Now smile. Wider⁠—broader⁠—do you call that a smile? So⁠—that’s better. There is something, yes⁠—but for full developments⁠—Sadly. Probably you can’t even turn a somersault? Gentleman Sighs. No. Jackson How old are you? Gentleman Thirty-nine. Too late? Jackson moves away with a whistle. There is a silence. Zinida Softly. Take him. Briquet Indignant. What the hell shall I do with him if he doesn’t know a thing? He’s drunk! Gentleman Honestly I am not. Thank you for your support, Madame. Are you not the famous Zinida, the lion tamer, whose regal beauty and audacity⁠— Zinida Yes. But I do not like flattery. Gentleman It is not flattery. Mancini You are evidently not accustomed to good society, my dear. Flattery? This gentleman expresses his admiration in sincere and beautiful words⁠—and you⁠—you are not educated, Zinida. As for myself⁠— Enter Consuelo and Bezano in circus costume. Consuelo You here, Daddy? Mancini Yes, my child, you are not tired? Kisses her on the forehead. My daughter, sir, Countess Veronica. Known on the stage as Consuelo, The Bareback Tango Queen. Did you ever see her? Gentleman I have enjoyed her work. It is marvellous! Mancini Yes! Of course. Everyone admits it. And how do you like the name, Consuelo? I took it from the novel of George Sand. It means “Consolation.” Gentleman What a wonderful knowledge of books! Mancini A small thing. Despite your strange intention, I can see, sir, that you are a gentleman. My peer! Let me explain to you, that only the strange and fatal misfortunes of our ancient family⁠—“sic transit gloria mundi,” sir. Consuelo It’s a bore, Daddy⁠—Where’s my handkerchief, Alfred? Bezano Here it is. Consuelo Showing the handkerchief to the gentleman. Genuine Venetian. Do you like it? Gentleman Again bowing. My eyes are dazzled, how beautiful! Papa Briquet, the more I look around me the more I want to stay with you. Makes the face of a simpleton. On the one hand a count, on the other⁠— Jackson Nods approval. That’s not bad. Look here, think a bit⁠—find something. Everyone here thinks for himself. Silence. The gentleman stands with a finger on his forehead, thinking. Gentleman Find something⁠—find something⁠ ⁠… Eureka! Polly That means found. Come! Gentleman Eureka⁠—I shall be among you, he who gets slapped. General laughter. Even Briquet smiles. Gentleman Looks at them smiling. You see I made even you laugh⁠—is that easy? All grow serious. Polly sighs. Tilly No, it’s not easy. Did you laugh, Polly? Polly Sure, a lot. Did you? Tilly I did. Imitating an instrument, he plays with his lips a melody at once sad and gay. Jackson “He Who Gets Slapped,” that’s not bad. Gentleman It’s not, is it? I rather like it myself. It suits my talent. And comrades, I have even found a name⁠—you’ll call me “He.” Is that all right? Jackson Thinking. “He”⁠—Not bad. Consuelo In a singing, melodic voice. “He” is so funny⁠—“He”⁠—like a dog. Daddy, are there such dogs? Jackson suddenly gives a circus slap to the gentleman. He steps back and grows pale. Gentleman What!⁠—General laughter covers his exclamation. Jackson He Who Gets Slapped. Or didn’t you get it? Polly Comically. He says he wants more⁠—The gentleman smiles, rubbing his cheek. Gentleman So sudden.⁠—Without waiting.⁠—How funny⁠—you didn’t hurt me, and yet my cheek burns. Again there is loud laughter. The clowns cackle like ducks, hens, cocks; they bark. Zinida says something to Briquet, casts a glance toward Bezano, and goes out. Mancini assumes a bored air and looks at his watch. The two actresses go out. Jackson Take him, Papa Briquet⁠—he will push us. Mancini Again looking at his watch. But bear in mind, that Papa Briquet is as close as Harpagon. If you expect to get good money here you are mistaken. He laughs. A slap? What’s a slap? Worth only small change, a franc and a half a dozen. Better go back to society; you will make more money there. Why for one slap, just a light tap, you might say, my friend, Marquis Justi, was paid fifty thousand lire! Briquet Shut up, Mancini. Will you take care of him, Jackson. Jackson I can. Polly Do you like music? A Beethoven sonata played on a broom, for instance, or Mozart on a bottle? He Alas! No. But I will be exceedingly grateful if you will teach me. A clown! My childhood’s dream. When all my school friends were thrilled by Plutarch’s heroes, or the light of science⁠—I dreamed of clowns. Beethoven on a broom, Mozart on bottles! Just what I have sought all my life! Friends, I must have a costume! Jackson I see you don’t know much! A costume putting his finger on his forehead is a thing which calls for deep thought. Have you seen my Sun here? Strikes his posterior. I looked for it two years. He Enthusiastically. I shall think! Mancini It is time for me to go. Consuelo, my child, you must get dressed. To He. We are lunching with Baron Regnard, a friend of mine, a banker. Consuelo But I don’t want to go, Daddy. Alfred says I must rehearse today. Mancini Horrified, holding up his hands. Child, think of me, and what a situation you put me in! I promised the Baron, the Baron expects us. Why, it is impossible! Oh, I am in a cold sweat. Consuelo Alfred says⁠— Bezano Drily. She has to work. Are you rested? Then come on. Mancini But⁠—the devil take me if I know what to make of it. Hey, Bezano, bareback rider! Are you crazy? I gave you permission for Art’s sake, to exercise my daughter’s talent⁠—and you⁠— Consuelo Go along, Papa, and don’t be so silly. We’ve got to work, haven’t we? Have lunch along with your Baron. And Daddy, you forgot to take a clean handkerchief again, and I washed two for you yesterday. Where did you put them? Mancini Ashamed, blushing. Why, my linen is washed by the laundress, and you, Consuelo, are still playing with toys. It is stupid! You’re a chatterbox. You don’t think. These gentlemen might imagine Heaven knows