epub:type="z3998:stage-direction">Opening her eyes. No!
He, I was feeling so happy, and suddenly I forgot it all. Yet something of it all is still in my heart. Help me again,
He, remind me. It hurts, I hear so many voices. They all sing “Consuelo—Consuelo.” What comes after?
Silence; pause. What comes after? It hurts. Remind me,
He.
Silence—in the ring, the music suddenly bursts forth in a tempestuous circus gallop. Silence. He,
opens her eyes and smiles that’s Alfred galloping. Do you recognize his music?
He
With rage. Leave the boy alone!
Suddenly falls on his knees before Consuelo. I love you, Consuelo, revelation of my heart, light of my nights, I love you, Consuelo.
Looks at her in ecstasy and tears—and gets a slap; starting back. What’s this?
Consuelo
A slap! You forget who you are.
Stands up, with anger in her eyes. You are
He Who Gets Slapped! Did you forget it? Some god! With such a face—slapped face! Was it with slaps they threw you down from heaven, god?
He
Wait! Don’t stand up! I—did not finish the play!
Consuelo
Sits. Then you were playing?
He
Wait! One minute.
Consuelo
You lied to me. Why did you play so that I believed you?
He
I am
He Who Gets Slapped!
Consuelo
You are not angry because I struck you? I did not want to really, but you were so—disgusting. And now you are so funny again. You have great talent,
He—or are you drunk?
He
Strike me again.
Consuelo
No.
He
I need it for my play. Strike!
Consuelo
Laughs, and touches his cheek with her fingertips. Here, then!
He
Didn’t you understand that you are a queen, and I a fool who is in love with his queen? Don’t you know, Consuelo, that every queen has a fool, and he is always in love with her, and they always beat him for it.
He Who Gets Slapped.
Consuelo
No. I didn’t know.
He
Yes, every queen. Beauty has her fool. Wisdom, too. Oh, how many fools she has! Her court is overcrowded with enamoured fools, and the sound of slaps does not cease, even through the night. But I never received such a sweet slap as the one given by my little queen.
Someone appears at the door. He notices it, and continues to play, making many faces. Clown
He can have no rival! Who is there who could stand such a deluge of slaps, such a hailstorm of slaps, and not get soaked?
Feigns to cry aloud. “Have pity on me. I am but a poor fool!”
Enter two men: an actor, dressed as a bareback rider, and a gentleman from the audience. He is spare, dressed in black, very respectable. He carries his hat in his hand.
Consuelo
Laughing, embarrassed. He, there is someone here. Stop!
He
Gets up. Who is it? Who dares to intrude in the castle of my queen?
He stops, suddenly. Consuelo, laughing, jumps up and runs away, after a quick glance at the gentleman.
Consuelo
You cheered me up,
He. Goodbye.
At the door. You shall get a note tomorrow.
The Bareback Rider
Laughing. A jolly fellow, sir. You wanted to see him? There he is.
He, the gentleman wants to see you.
He
In a depressed voice. What can I do for you?
The actor bows, and goes away, smiling. Both men take a step toward each other.
Gentleman
Is this you?
He
Yes! It is I. And you?
Silence.
Gentleman
Must I believe my eyes? Is this you, Mr.—
He
In a rage. My name here is
He. I have no other name, do you hear?
He Who Gets Slapped. And if you want to stay here, don’t forget it.
Gentleman
You are so familiar. As far as I can remember—
He
We are all familiar, here.
Contemptuously. Besides, that’s all you deserve, anywhere.
Gentleman
Humbly. You have not forgiven me,
He?
Silence.
He
Are you here with my wife? Is she, too, in the circus?
Gentleman
Quickly. Oh, no! I am alone. She stayed there!
He
You’ve left her already?
Gentleman
Humbly. No—we have—a son. After your sudden and mysterious disappearance—when you left that strange and insulting letter—
He
Laughs. Insulting? You are still able to feel insults? What are you doing here? Were you looking for me, or is it an accident?
Gentleman
I have been looking for you, for half a year—through many countries. And suddenly, today—by accident, indeed—I had no acquaintances here, and I went to the circus. We must talk things over …
He, I implore you.
Silence.
He
Here is a shadow I cannot lose! To talk things over! Do you really think we still have something to talk over? All right. Leave your address with the porter, and I will let you know when you can see me. Now get out.
Proudly. I am busy.
The gentleman bows and leaves.
He does not return his bow, but stands with outstretched hand, in the pose of a great man, who shows a boring visitor the door.
Curtain.
Act III
The same room. Morning, before the rehearsal. He is striding thoughtfully up and down the room. He wears a broad, particoloured coat, and a prismatic tie. His derby is on the back of his head, and his face is clean-shaven like that of an actor. His eyebrows are drawn, lips pressed together energetically, his whole appearance severe and sombre. After the entrance of the gentleman he changes. His face becomes clown-like, mobile—a living mask.
The gentleman comes in. He is dressed in black, and has an extremely well-bred appearance. His thin face is yellowish, like an invalid’s. When he is upset, his colourless, dull eyes often twitch. He does not notice him.
Gentleman
Good morning, sir.
He
Turning around and looking at him absentmindedly. Ah! It’s you.
Gentleman
I am not late? You look as if you did not expect me. I hope I am not disturbing you? You fixed this time yourself however, and
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