Part 4
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Well, to tell the truth, I don't recognize the scene.
THE MANAGER. My dear lady, you can't possibly suppose that we can construct that shop of Madame Pace piece by piece here? (_To the Father_): You said a white room with flowered wall paper, didn't you?
THE FATHER. Yes.
THE MANAGER. Well then. We've got the furniture right more or less. Bring that little table a bit further forward. (_The stage hands obey the order. To Property Man_): You go and find an envelope, if possible, a pale blue one; and give it to that gentleman (_indicates Father_).
PROPERTY MAN. An ordinary envelope?
MANAGER _and_ FATHER. Yes, yes, an ordinary envelope.
PROPERTY MAN. At once, sir (_exit_).
THE MANAGER. Ready, everyone! First scene--the Young Lady. (_The Leading Lady comes forward_). No, no, you must wait. I meant her (_indicating the Step-Daughter_). You just watch--
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_adding at once_). How I shall play it, how I shall live it!...
LEADING LADY (_offended_). I shall live it also, you may be sure, as soon as I begin!
THE MANAGER (_with his hands to his head_). Ladies and gentlemen, if you please! No more useless discussions! Scene I: the young lady with Madame Pace: Oh! (_looks around as if lost_). And this Madame Pace, where is she?
THE FATHER. She isn't with us, sir.
THE MANAGER. Then what the devil's to be done?
THE FATHER. But she is alive too.
THE MANAGER. Yes, but where is she?
THE FATHER. One minute. Let me speak! (_turning to the actresses_). If these ladies would be so good as to give me their hats for a moment....
THE ACTRESSES (_half surprised, half laughing, in chorus_). What?
Why?
Our hats?
What does he say?
THE MANAGER. What are you going to do with the ladies' hats? (_The actors laugh_).
THE FATHER. Oh nothing. I just want to put them on these pegs for a moment. And one of the ladies will be so kind as to take off her mantle....
THE ACTORS. Oh, what d'you think of that?
Only the mantle?
He must be mad.
SOME ACTRESSES. But why?
Mantles as well?
THE FATHER. To hang them up here for a moment Please be so kind, will you?
THE ACTRESSES (_taking off their hats, one or two also their cloaks, and going to hang them on the racks_). After all, why not?
There you are!
This is really funny.
We've got to put them on show.
THE FATHER. Exactly; just like that, on show.
THE MANAGER. May we know why?
THE FATHER. I'll tell you. Who knows if, by arranging the stage for her, she does not come here herself, attracted by the very articles of her trade? (_Inviting the actors to look towards the exit at back of stage_): Look! Look!
(_The door at the back of stage opens and_ MADAME PACE _enters and takes a few steps forward. She is a fat, oldish woman with puffy oxygenated hair. She is rouged and powdered, dressed with a comical elegance in black silk. Round her waist is a long silver chain from which hangs a pair of scissors. The Step-Daughter runs over to her at once amid the stupor of the actors_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_turning towards her_). There she is! There she is!
THE FATHER (_radiant_). It's she! I said so, didn't I? There she is!
THE MANAGER (_conquering his surprise, and then becoming indignant_). What sort of a trick is this?
LEADING MAN (_almost at the same time_). What's going to happen next?
JUVENILE LEAD. Where does _she_ come from?
L'INGÉNUE. They've been holding her in reserve, I guess.
LEADING LADY. A vulgar trick!
THE FATHER (_dominating the protests_). Excuse me, all of you! Why are you so anxious to destroy in the name of a vulgar, commonplace sense of truth, this reality which comes to birth attracted and formed by the magic of the stage itself, which has indeed more right to live here than you, since it is much truer than you--if you don't mind my saying so? Which is the actress among you who is to play Madame Pace? Well, here is Madame Pace herself. And you will allow, I fancy, that the actress who acts her will be less true than this woman here, who is herself in person. You see my daughter recognized her and went over to her at once. Now you're going to witness the scene!
_But the scene between the_ STEP-DAUGHTER _and_ MADAME PACE _has already begun despite the protest of the actors and the reply of_ THE FATHER. _It has begun quietly, naturally, in a manner impossible for the stage. So when the actors, called to attention by_ THE FATHER, _turn round and see_ MADAME PACE, _who has placed one hand under the_ STEP-DAUGHTER'S _chin to raise her head, they observe her at first with great attention, but hearing her speak in an unintelligible manner their interest begins to wane._
THE MANAGER. Well? well?
LEADING MAN. What does she say?
LEADING LADY. One can't hear a word.
JUVENILE LEAD. Louder! Louder please!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_leaving Madame Pace, who smiles a Sphinx-like smile, and advancing towards the actors_). Louder? Louder? What are you talking about? These aren't matters which can be shouted at the top of one's voice. If I have spoken them out loud, it was to shame him and have my revenge (_indicates Father_). But for Madame it's quite a different matter.
THE MANAGER. Indeed? indeed? But here, you know, people have got to make themselves heard, my dear. Even we who are on the stage can't hear you. What will it be when the public's in the theatre? And anyway, you can very well speak up now among yourselves, since we shan't be present to listen to you as we are now. You've got to pretend to be alone in a room at the back of a shop where no one can hear you.
(THE STEP-DAUGHTER _coquettishly and with a touch of malice makes a sign of disagreement two or three times with her finger_).
THE MANAGER. What do you mean by no?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_sotto voce, mysteriously_). There's someone who will hear us if she (_indicating Madame Pace_) speaks out loud.
THE MANAGER (_in consternation_). What? Have you got someone else to spring on us now? (_The actors burst out laughing_).
THE FATHER. No, no sir. She is alluding to me. I've got to be here--there behind that door, in waiting; and Madame Pace knows it. In fact, if you will allow me, I'll go there at once, so I can be quite ready. (_Moves away_).
THE MANAGER (_stopping him_). No! Wait! wait! We must observe the conventions of the theatre. Before you are ready....
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_interrupting him_). No, get on with it at once! I'm just dying, I tell you, to act this scene. If he's ready, I'm more than ready.
THE MANAGER (_shouting_). But, my dear young lady, first of all, we must have the scene between you and this lady ... (_indicates Madame Pace_). Do you understand?...
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Good Heavens! She's been telling me what you know already: that mamma's work is badly done again, that the material's ruined; and that if I want her to continue to help us in our misery I must be patient....
MADAME PACE (_coming forward with an air of great importance_). Yes indeed, sir, I no wanta take advantage of her, I no wanta be hard....
(_Note. Madame Face is supposed to talk in a jargon half Italian, half Spanish_).
THE MANAGER (_alarmed_). What? What? She talks like that? (_The actors burst out laughing again_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_also laughing_). Yes yes, that's the way she talks, half English, half Italian! Most comical it is!
MADAME PACE. Itta seem not verra polite gentlemen laugha atta me eef I trya best speaka English.
THE MANAGER. _Diamine_! Of course! Of course! Let her talk like that! Just what we want. Talk just like that, Madam, if you please! The effect will be certain. Exactly what was wanted to put a little comic relief into the crudity of the situation. Of course she talks like that! Magnificent!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Magnificent? Certainly! When certain suggestions are made to one in language of that kind, the effect is certain, since it seems almost a joke. One feels inclined to laugh when one hears her talk about an "old signore" "who wanta talka nicely with you." Nice old signore, eh, Madame?
MADAME PACE. Not so old my dear, not so old! And even if you no lika him, he won't make any scandal!
THE MOTHER (_jumping up amid the amazement and consternation of the actors who had not been noticing her. They move to restrain her_). You old devil! You murderess!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_running over to calm her Mother_). Calm yourself, mother, calm yourself! Please don't....
THE FATHER (_going to her also at the same time_). Calm yourself! Don't get excited! Sit down now!
THE MOTHER. Well then, take that woman away out of my sight!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_to Manager_). It is impossible for my mother to remain here.
THE FATHER (_to Manager_). They can't be here together. And for this reason, you see: that woman there was not with us when we came.... If they are on together, the whole thing is given away inevitably, as you see.
THE MANAGER. It doesn't matter. This is only a first rough sketch--just to get an idea of the various points of the scene, even confusedly.... (_Turning to the Mother and leading her to her chair_): Come along, my dear lady, sit down now, and let's get on with the scene....
(_Meanwhile, the_ STEP-DAUGHTER, _coming forward again, turns to Madame Pace_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Come on, Madame, come on!
MADAME PACE (_offended_). No, no, _grazie_. I not do anything witha your mother present.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Nonsense! Introduce this "old signore" who wants to talk nicely to me (_addressing the company imperiously_). We've got to do this scene one way or another, haven't we? Come on! (_to Madame Pace_). You can go!
MADAME PACE. Ah yes! I go'way! I go'way! Certainly! (_Exits furious_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_to the Father_). Now you make your entry. No, you needn't go over here. Come here. Let's suppose you've already come in. Like that, yes! I'm here with bowed head, modest like. Come on! Out with your voice! Say "Good morning, Miss" in that peculiar tone, that special tone....
THE MANAGER. Excuse me, but are you the Manager, or am I? (_To the Father, who looks undecided and perplexed_): Get on with it, man! Go down there to the back of the stage. You needn't go off. Then come right forward here.
(THE FATHER _does as he is told, looking troubled and perplexed at first. But as soon as he begins to move, the reality of the action affects him, and he begins to smile and to be more natural. The actors watch intently_).
THE MANAGER (_sottovoce, quickly to the Prompter in his box_). Ready! ready? Get ready to write now.
THE FATHER (_coming forward and speaking in a different tone_). Good afternoon, Miss!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_head bowed down slightly, with restrained disgust_). Good afternoon!
THE FATHER (_looks under her hat which partly covers her face. Perceiving she is very young, he makes an exclamation,
## partly of surprise, partly of fear lest he compromise
himself in a risky adventure_) "Ah ... but ... ah ... I say ... this is not the first time that you have come here, is it?"
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_modestly_). No sir.
THE FATHER. You've been here before, eh? (_Then seeing her nod agreement_): More than once? (_Waits for her to answer, looks under her hat, smiles, and then says_): Well then, there's no need to be so shy, is there? May I take off your hat?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_anticipating him and with veiled disgust_). No sir ... I'll do it myself. (_Takes it off quickly_).
(THE MOTHER, _who watches the progress of the scene with_ THE SON _and the other two children who cling to her, is on thorns; and follows with varying expressions of sorrow, indignation, anxiety, and horror the words and actions of the other two. From time to time she hides her face in her hands and sobs_).
THE MOTHER. Oh, my God, my God!
THE FATHER (_playing his part with a touch of gallantry_). Give it to me! I'll put it down (_takes hat from her hands_). But a dear little head like yours ought to have a smarter hat. Come and help me choose one from the stock, won't you?
L'INGÉNUE (_interrupting_). I say ... those are our hats you know.
THE MANAGER (_furious_). Silence! silence! Don't try and be funny, if you please.... We're playing the scene now I'd have you notice. (_To the Step-Daughter_). Begin again, please!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_continuing_). No thank you, sir.
THE FATHER. Oh, come now. Don't talk like that. You must take it. I shall be upset if you don't. There are some lovely little hats here; and then--Madame will be pleased. She expects it, anyway, you know.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. No, no! I couldn't wear it!
THE FATHER. Oh, you're thinking about what they'd say at home if they saw you come in with a new hat? My dear girl, there's always a way round these little matters, you know.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_all keyed up_). No, it's not that. I couldn't wear it because I am ... as you see ... you might have noticed.... (_showing her black dress_).
THE FATHER. ... in mourning! Of course: I beg your pardon: I'm frightfully sorry....
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_forcing herself to conquer her indignation and nausea_). Stop! Stop! It's I who must thank you. There's no need for you to feel mortified or specially sorry. Don't think any more of what I've said. (_Tries to smile_). I must forget that I am dressed so....
THE MANAGER (_interrupting and turning to the Prompter_). Stop a minute! Stop! Don't write that down. Cut out that last bit. (_Then to the Father and Step-Daughter_). Fine! it's going fine! (_To the Father only_). And now you can go on as we arranged. (_To the actors_). Pretty good that scene, where he offers her the hat, eh?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. The best's coming now. Why can't we go on?
THE MANAGER. Have a little patience! (_To the actors_): Of course, it must be treated rather lightly.
LEADING MAN. Still, with a bit of go in it!
LEADING LADY. Of course! It's easy enough! (_To Leading Man_): Shall you and I try it now?
LEADING MAN. Why, yes! I'll prepare my entrance. (_Exit in order to make his entrance_).
THE MANAGER (_to Leading Lady_). See here! The scene between you and Madame Pace is finished. I'll have it written out properly after. You remain here ... oh, where are you going?
LEADING LADY. One minute. I want to put my hat on again (_goes over to hat-rack and puts her hat on her head_).
THE MANAGER. Good! You stay here with your head bowed down a bit.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. But she isn't dressed in black.
LEADING LADY. But I shall be, and much more effectively than you.
THE MANAGER (_to Step-Daughter_). Be quiet please, and watch! You'll be able to learn something. (_Clapping his hands_) Come on! come on! Entrance, please!
(_The door at rear of stage opens, and the Leading Man enters with the lively manner of an old gallant. The rendering of the scene by the actors from the very first words is seen to be quite a different thing, though it has not in any way the air of a parody. Naturally, the Step-Daughter and the Father, not being able to recognize themselves in the Leading Lady and the Leading Man, who deliver their words in different tones and with a different psychology, express, sometimes with smiles, sometimes with gestures, the impression they receive_).
LEADING MAN. Good afternoon, Miss....
THE FATHER (_at once unable to contain himself_). No! no!
(THE STEP-DAUGHTER _noticing the way the_ LEADING MAN _enters, bursts out laughing_).
THE MANAGER (_furious_). Silence! And you please just stop that laughing. If we go on like this, we shall never finish.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Forgive me, sir, but it's natural enough. This lady (_indicating Leading Lady_) stands there still; but if she is supposed to be me, I can assure you that if I heard anyone say "Good afternoon" in that manner and in that tone, I should burst out laughing as I did.
THE FATHER. Yes, yes, the manner, the tone....
THE MANAGER. Nonsense! Rubbish! Stand aside and let me see the action.
LEADING MAN. If I've got to represent an old fellow who's coming into a house of an equivocal character....
THE MANAGER. Don't listen to them, for Heaven's sake! Do it again! It goes fine. (_Waiting for the actors to begin again_): Well?
LEADING MAN. Good afternoon, Miss.
LEADING LADY. Good afternoon.
LEADING MAN (_imitating the gesture of the Father when he looked under the hat, and then expressing quite clearly first satisfaction and then fear_). Ah, but ... I say ... this is not the first time that you have come here, is it?
THE MANAGER. Good, but not quite so heavily. Like this (_acts himself_): "This isn't the first time that you have come here".... (_To Leading Lady_) And you say: "No, sir."
LEADING LADY. No, sir.
LEADING MAN. You've been here before, more than once.
THE MANAGER. No, no, stop! Let her nod "yes" first.
"You've been here before, eh?" (_The Leading Lady lifts up her head slightly and closes her eyes as though in disgust. Then she inclines her head twice_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_unable to contain herself_). Oh my God! (_Puts a hand to her mouth to prevent herself from laughing_).
THE MANAGER (_turning round_). What's the matter?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Nothing, nothing!
THE MANAGER (_to Leading Man_). Go on!
LEADING MAN. You've been here before, eh? Well then, there's no need to be so shy, is there? May I take off your hat?
(THE LEADING MAN _says this last speech in such a tone and with such gestures that the_ STEP-DAUGHTER, _though she has her hand to her mouth, cannot keep from laughing_).
LEADING LADY (_indignant_). I'm not going to stop here to be made a fool of by that woman there.
LEADING MAN. Neither am I! I'm through with it!
THE MANAGER (_shouting to Step-Daughter_). Silence! for once and all, I tell you!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Forgive me! forgive me!
THE MANAGER. You haven't any manners: that's what it is! You go too far.
THE FATHER (_endeavouring to intervene_). Yes, it's true, but excuse her....
THE MANAGER. Excuse what? It's absolutely disgusting.
THE FATHER. Yes, sir, but believe me, it has such a strange effect when....
THE MANAGER. Strange? Why strange? Where is it strange?
THE FATHER. No, sir; I admire your actors--this gentleman here, this lady; but they are certainly not us!
THE MANAGER. I should hope not. Evidently they cannot be you, if they are actors.
THE FATHER. Just so: actors! Both of them act our parts exceedingly well. But, believe me, it produces quite a different effect on us. They want to be us, but they aren't, all the same.
THE MANAGER. What is it then anyway?
THE FATHER. Something that is ... that is theirs--and no longer ours....
THE MANAGER. But naturally, inevitably. I've told you so already.
THE FATHER. Yes, I understand ... I understand....
THE MANAGER. Well then, let's have no more of it! (_Turning to the actors_): We'll have the rehearsals by ourselves, afterwards, in the ordinary way. I never could stand rehearsing with the author present. He's never satisfied! (_Turning to Father and Step-Daughter_): Come on! Let's get on with it again; and try and see if you can't keep from laughing.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Oh, I shan't laugh any more. There's a nice little bit coming for me now: you'll see.
THE MANAGER. Well then: when she says "Don't think any more of what I've said. I must forget, etc.," you (_addressing the Father_) come in sharp with "I understand, I understand"; and then you ask her....
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_interrupting_). What?
THE MANAGER. Why she is in mourning.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Not at all! See here: when I told him that it was useless for me to be thinking about my wearing mourning, do you know how he answered me? "Ah well," he said "then let's take off this little frock."
THE MANAGER. Great! Just what we want, to make a riot in the theatre!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. But it's the truth!
THE MANAGER. What does that matter? Acting is our business here. Truth up to a certain point, but no further.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. What do you want to do then?
THE MANAGER. You'll see, you'll see! Leave it to me.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. No sir! What you want to do is to piece together a little romantic sentimental scene out of my disgust, out of all the reasons, each more cruel and viler than the other, why I am what I am. He is to ask me why I'm in mourning; and I'm to answer with tears in my eyes, that it is just two months since papa died. No sir, no! He's got to say to me; as he did say: "Well, let's take off this little dress at once." And I; with my two months' mourning in my heart, went there behind that screen, and with these fingers tingling with shame....
THE MANAGER (_running his hands through his hair_). For Heaven's sake! What are you saying?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_crying out excitedly_). The truth! The truth!
THE MANAGER. It may be. I don't deny it, and I can understand all your horror; but you must surely see that you can't have this kind of thing on the stage. It won't go.
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Not possible, eh? Very well! I'm much obliged to you--but I'm off!
THE MANAGER. Now be reasonable! Don't lose your temper!
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. I won't stop here! I won't! I can see you've fixed it all up with him in your office. All this talk about what is possible for the stage ... I understand! He wants to get at his complicated "cerebral drama," to have his famous remorses and torments acted; but I want to act my part, _my part_!
THE MANAGER (_annoyed, shaking his shoulders_). Ah! Just _your_ part! But, if you will pardon me, there are other parts than yours: His (_indicating the Father_) and hers (_indicating the Mother_)! On the stage you can't have a character becoming too prominent and overshadowing all the others. The thing is to pack them all into a neat little framework and then act what is actable. I am aware of the fact that everyone has his own interior life which he wants very much to put forward. But the difficulty lies in this fact: to set out just so much as is necessary for the stage, taking the other characters into consideration, and at the same time hint at the unrevealed interior life of each. I am willing to admit, my dear young lady, that from your point of view it would be a fine idea if each character could tell the public all his troubles in a nice monologue or a regular one hour lecture (_good humoredly_). You must restrain yourself, my dear, and in your own interest, too; because this fury of yours, this exaggerated disgust you show, may make a bad impression, you know. After you have confessed to me that there were others before him at Madame Pace's and more than once....
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_bowing her head, impressed_). It's true. But remember those others mean him for me all the same.
THE MANAGER (_not understanding_). What? The others? What do you mean?