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 to-day, 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? 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