night? You? a couple of musical donkeys? Tigers, lions? Nobody cares for those hungry cats!
| Zinida |
Leave the tigers alone. |
| Mancini |
Beg your pardon, Zinida. I did not mean to hurt your feelings—honestly. I really marvel at your furious audacity—at your grace—you are a heroine—I kiss your tiny hands. But what do they understand about heroism? An orchestra softly plays the Tango in the circus. He continues with enthusiasm. Hear! hear! Now tell me, honest vagabonds, who but Consuelo and Bezano draws the crowds! That Tango on horseback—it is—it is—Oh, the devil! Even his fatuousness the Pope could not withstand its lure. |
| Polly |
True! It’s a great trick—wasn’t the idea Bezano’s? |
| Mancini |
Idea! Idea! The lad’s in love, like a cat—that’s the idea. What’s the good of an idea without a woman! You wouldn’t dance very far with your idea alone, eh, Papa Briquet? |
| Briquet |
We have a contract. |
| Mancini |
Such base formalities. |
| Zinida |
Give him ten francs and let him go. |
| Mancini |
Ten! Never! Fifteen! Don’t be stubborn, Papa. For the traditions of my house—twenty. I swear—on my honour—I can’t do with less. Briquet hands him twenty francs. Nonchalantly. Merci. Thanks. |
| Zinida |
Why don’t you take it from your baron? |
| Mancini |
Raising his eyebrows haughtily, quite indignant. From the Baron? Woman! who do you think I am that I should be beholden to a stranger? |
| Zinida |
You’re plotting something artful. I know you very little, but I guess you’re an awful scoundrel. |
| Mancini |
Laughs. Such an insult from such beautiful lips. |
|
Enter an “artist,” apparently an athlete. |
| Athlete |
Papa Briquet, there’s a gentleman from beyond the grave asking for you. |
| Actress |
A ghost? |
| Athlete |
No. He seems alive. Did you ever see a drunken ghost? |
| Briquet |
If he’s drunk, tell him I’m out, Thomas. Does he want to see me or the Count? |
| Athlete |
No, you. Maybe he’s not drunk, but just a ghost. |
| Mancini |
Draws himself together, puffs up. A society man? |
| Athlete |
Yes. I’ll tell him to come in. |
|
One hears the whip cracking in the ring. The Tango sounds very low and distant—then comes nearer—louder. Silence. |
| Briquet |
Touching Zinida’s arm. Tired? |
| Zinida |
Drawing back a little. No. |
| Polly |
Your red lion is nervous today, Zinida! |
| Zinida |
You shouldn’t tease him. |
| Polly |
I played a melody from Traviata for him. And he sang with me. Wouldn’t that be a good trick to stage, Papa Briquet? |
|
Thomas brings in the gentleman, points out the manager, and goes heavily away. The gentleman is not young, and he is ugly, but his rather strange face is bold and lively. He wears an expensive overcoat, with a fur collar, and holds his hat and gloves in his hand. |
| Gentleman |
Bowing and smiling. Have I the pleasure of addressing the manager? |
| Briquet |
Yes. Won’t you sit down, please? Tilly, bring a chair. |
| Gentleman |
Oh! Don’t trouble. Looks around. These are your artists? Very glad— |
| Mancini |
Straightening and bowing slightly. Count Mancini. |
| Gentleman |
Surprised. Count? |
| Briquet |
Indignantly. Yes, Count. And whom have I the honour of— |
| Gentleman |
I don’t quite know myself—yet. As a rule you choose your own names, don’t you? I have not chosen yet. Later you might advise me about it. I have an idea already, but I am afraid it sounds too much like literature—you know. |
| Briquet |
Literature? |
| Gentleman |
Yes! Too sophisticated. They all look surprised. I presume these two gentlemen are clowns? I am so glad. May I shake hands with them? Stands up and shakes hands with clowns, who make silly faces. |
| Briquet |
Excuse me—but what can I do for you? |
| Gentleman |
With the same pleasant, confident smile. Oh. You do something for me? No. I want to do something for you, Papa Briquet. |
| Briquet |
Papa Briquet? But you don’t look like— |
| Gentleman |
Reassuringly. It’s all right. I shall become “like.” These two gentlemen just made remarkable faces. Would you like to see me imitate them? Look! He makes the same silly faces as the clowns. |
| Briquet |
Yes! Involuntarily. You are not drunk, sir? |
| Gentleman |
No. I don’t drink as a rule. Do I look drunk? |
| Polly |
A little. |
| Gentleman |
No—I don’t drink. It is a peculiarity of my talent. |
| Briquet |
Familiarly. Where did you work before? Juggler? |
| Gentleman |
No. But I am glad you feel in me a comrade, Papa Briquet. Unfortunately I am not a juggler, and have worked nowhere—I am—just so. |
| Mancini |
But you look like a society man. |
| Gentleman |
Oh, you flatter me, Count. I am just so. |
| Briquet |
Well, what do you want? You see I am obliged to tell you that everything is taken. |
| Gentleman |
That’s immaterial. I want to be a clown, if you will allow me. Some of the actors smile, Briquet begins to grow angry. |
| Briquet |
But what can you do? You’re asking too much. What can you do? |
| Gentleman |
Why! Nothing! Isn’t that funny! I can’t do a thing. |
| Briquet |
No, it’s not funny. Any scoundrel knows that much. |
| Gentleman |
Rather helpless, but still smiling and looking around. We can invent something— |
| Briquet |
Ironically. From literature? |
|
The clown Jackson enters slowly without being noticed by the others. He stands behind the gentlemen. |
| Gentleman |
Yes, one can find something literary, too. A nice little speech for instance on, let’s say, a religious topic. Something like a debate among the clowns. |
| Briquet |
A debate! The devil! This is no academy. |
| Gentleman |
Sadly. I am very sorry. Something else then. Perhaps a joke about the creation of the world and its rulers? |
| Briquet |
What about the police? No, no—nothing like that! |
| Jackson |
Coming forward. The rulers of the world? You don’t like them? I don’t either. Shake. |
| Briquet |
Introducing. Our chief clown, the famous Jackson. |
| Gentleman |
Enthusiastically. Great heavens—you! Allow me to shake hands with you heartily! You, with your genius, you have given me so much joy! |
| Jackson |
I’m glad indeed! |
| Briquet |
Shrugs his shoulders; to Jackson. He wants to be a clown! Look him over, Jim. |
|
Jackson makes a motion at which the gentleman hurriedly removes his coat and throws it on a chair. He is ready for the examination. Jackson turns him round, looking him over critically. |
| Jackson |
Clown? Hm! Turn round then. Clown? Yes? |