He Who Gets Slapped, Leonid Andreyev [great novels to read .txt] 📗

that so? Nobody knows him, everybody knows me, everyone is afraid for me, while⁠—And he is such a silly man⁠—you will see him. Laughs. But don’t you think of entering the cage yourself! My red one would give you such a slap! Briquet Displeased. There you are again, Zinida⁠—stop it. Zinida Laughs. All right⁠—go. Oh yes, Louis, send me Bezano. I have to settle an account with him. He and the director go out. Zinida looks at the card once more, then hides it. She gets up and walks quickly up and down the room. She stops to listen to the Tango, which ends abruptly. Then she stands motionless, looking straight at the dark opening of the door through which Bezano comes. Bezano Entering. You called me, Zinida? What do you want? Tell me quickly, I have no time⁠— Zinida looks at him silently. Bezano flushes with anger, and knits his eyebrows. He turns to the door to go. Zinida Bezano! Bezano Stops, without looking up. What do you want? I have no time. Zinida Bezano! I keep hearing people say that you are in love with Consuelo. Is it true? Bezano Shrugging his shoulders. We work well together. Zinida Takes a step forward. No⁠—Tell me, Alfred, do you love her? Bezano Flushes like a boy, but looks straight into Zinida’s eyes. Proudly. I do not love anybody. No, I love nobody. How can I? Consuelo? She is here today, gone tomorrow, if her father should take her away. And I? Who am I? An acrobat, the son of a Milanese shoemaker⁠—She! I cannot even talk about it. Like my horses I have no words. Who am I to love? Zinida Do you love me? A little? Bezano No. I told you before. Zinida Still no? Not even a little? Bezano After a silence. I am afraid of you. Zinida Wants to cry out, indignantly, but masters herself and lowers her eyes, as if in an effort to shut out their light; turns pale. Am I⁠ ⁠… so terrifying a woman⁠— Bezano You are beautiful, like a queen. You are almost as beautiful as Consuelo. But I don’t like your eyes. Your eyes command me to love you⁠—and I don’t like to be commanded. I am afraid of you. Zinida Do I command, Bezano? No⁠—only implore. Bezano Then why not look at me straight? Now I have it. You know yourself that your eyes cannot implore. Laughs. Your lions have spoiled you. Zinida My red lion loves me⁠— Bezano Never! If he loves you, why is he so sad? Zinida Yesterday he was licking my hands like a dog. Bezano And this morning he was looking for you to devour you. He thrusts out his muzzle and looks out, as if he sees only you. He is afraid of you, and he hates you. Or do you want me to lick your hands too, like a dog? Zinida No, Alfred, but I⁠—I want to kiss your hand. With passion. Give it to me! Bezano Severely. I am ashamed to listen to you when you speak like that. Zinida Controlling herself. One should not torture another as you torture me. Alfred, I love you. No, I do not command. Look into my eyes⁠—I love you. Silence. Bezano Turns to go. Goodbye. Zinida Alfred⁠— He appears in the doorway, and stops. Bezano Please never tell me any more that you love me. I don’t want it. Otherwise I will quit. You pronounce the word love as if you were cracking me with your whip. You know it is disgusting⁠— He turns brusquely and goes. Both notice He; Bezano, frowning, passes out quickly. Zinida returns to her place at the desk, with a proudly indifferent expression. He Coming in. I beg your pardon, but I⁠— Zinida There you are again, poking your nose into everything, He. Do you really want a slap? He Laughing. No. I simply forgot my overcoat. I didn’t hear anything. Zinida I don’t care whether you did or not. He May I take my coat? Zinida Take it if it’s yours. Sit down, He. He I am sitting down. Zinida Now tell me He, could you love me? He Laughing. I? I and Love! Look at me, Zinida. Did you ever see a lover with such a face? Zinida One can succeed with such a face⁠— He That’s because I am happy⁠—because I lost my hat⁠—because I am drunk⁠—or perhaps I am not drunk. But I feel as dizzy as a young girl at her first ball. It is so nice here⁠—slap me, I want to play my part. Perhaps it will awaken love in my heart, too. Love⁠—as if listening to his own heart with pretended terror do you know⁠—I feel it! In the circus the Tango is played again. Zinida Listening too. For me? He No. I don’t know. For everyone. Listens to the music. Yes, they are dancing⁠—how beautiful Consuelo is⁠—and how beautiful is the youth. He has the body of a Greek God; he looks as if he had been modeled by Praxiteles. Love! Love! Silence, music.. Zinida Tell me, He⁠— He At your service, Queen! Zinida He, what shall I do, to make my lions love me? Curtain. Act II

The same room, during the evening performance. Occasional music, laughter, shrieks, and applause are audible. Through the small windows, back centre, the light is shining.

Consuelo and Baron Regnard occupy the stage; Consuelo wears her stage costume; she sits with her feet on the sofa, a small shawl covering her shoulders. Before her stands the Baron, a tall stout man in evening dress, a rose in his buttonhole; grasping the ground with feet well apart, he gazes at her with convex spider-like eyes.

Baron Is it true that your father, the Count, has introduced you to a certain Marquis Justi, a very rich man? Consuelo Surprised. No, he is only joking. I have often heard him speak of a Marquis Justi but I have never seen him⁠— Baron And do you know