LITMIR.BIZ

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not a German, but just the same....

      Miss Cœurne. What! I am not as silly as all that.

      Gerardo. Now look here, my dear girl—you have your tennis court, your skating club; you have your riding class, your dances; you have all a young girl can wish for. What on earth made you come to me?

      Miss Cœurne. Because all those things are awful, and they bore me to death.

      Gerardo. I will not dispute that. Personally, I must tell you, I know life from an entirely different side. But, my child, I am a man; I am thirty-six. The time will come when you, too, will claim a fuller existence. Wait another two years and there will be some one for you, and then you won't need to—hide yourself behind curtains, in my room, in the room of a man who—never asked you, and whom you don't know any better than—the whole continent of Europe knows him—in order to look at life from his—wonderful point of view. [Miss Cœurne sighs deeply.] Now then ... Many thanks from the bottom of my heart for your roses. [He presses her hand.] Will this do for to-day?

      Miss Cœurne. I had never in all my life thought of a man, until I saw you on the stage last night in "Tannhäuser." And I promise you—

      Gerardo. Oh, don't promise me anything, my child. What good could your promise do me? The burden of it would all fall upon you. You see, I am talking to you as lovingly as the most loving father could. Be thankful to God that with your recklessness you haven't fallen into the hands of another artist. [He presses her hand again.] Let this be a lesson to you and never try it again.

      Miss Cœurne [holding her handkerchief to her face but shedding no tears]. Am I so homely?

      Gerardo. Homely! Not homely, but young and indiscreet. [He rises nervously, goes to the right, comes back, puts his arm around her waist and takes her hand.] Listen to me, child. You are not homely because I have to be a singer, because I have to be an artist. Don't misunderstand me, but I can't see why I should simply, because I am an artist, have to assure you that I appreciate your youthful freshness and beauty. It is a question of time. Two hundred, maybe three hundred, nice, lovely girls of your age saw me last night in the rôle of Tannhäuser. Now if every one of those girls made the same demands upon me which you are making—what would become of my singing? What would become of my voice? What would become of my art?

      [Miss Cœurne sinks into a seat, covers her face and weeps.]

      Gerardo [leaning over the back of her chair, in a friendly tone]. It is a crime for you, child, to weep over the fact that you are still so young. Your whole life is ahead of you. Is it my fault if you fell in love with me? They all do. That is what I am for. Now won't you be a good girl and let me, for the few minutes I have left, prepare myself for to-morrow's appearance?

      Miss Cœurne [rising and drying her tears]. I can't believe that any other girl would have acted the way I have.

      Gerardo [leading her to the door]. No, dear child.

      Miss Cœurne [with sobs in her voice]. At least, not if—

      Gerardo. If my valet had stood before the door.

      Miss Cœurne. If—

      Gerardo. If the girl had been as beautiful and youthfully fresh as you.

      Miss Cœurne. If—

      Gerardo. If she had heard me only once in "Tannhäuser."

      Miss Cœurne [indignant]. If she were as respectable as I am!

      Gerardo [pointing to the piano]. Before saying good-by to me, child, have a look at all those flowers. May this be a warning to you in case you feel tempted again to fall in love with a singer. See how fresh they all are. And I have to let them wither, dry up, or I give them to the porter. And look at those letters. [He takes a handful of them from a tray.] I don't know any of those women. Don't worry; I leave them all to their fate. What else could I do? But I'll wager with you that every one of your lovely young friends sent in her little note.

      Miss Cœurne. Well, I promise not to do it again, not to hide myself behind your curtains. But don't send me away.

      Gerardo. My time, my time, dear child. If I were not on the point of taking a train! I have already told you, I am very sorry for you. But my train leaves in twenty-five minutes. What do you expect?

      Miss Cœurne. A kiss.

      Gerardo [stiffening up]. From me?

      Miss Cœurne. Yes.

      Gerardo [holding her around the waist and looking very serious]. You rob Art of its dignity, my child. I do not wish to appear an unfeeling brute, and I am going to give you my picture. Give me your word that after that you will leave me.

      Miss Cœurne. Yes.

      Gerardo. Good. [He sits at the table and autographs one of his pictures.] You should try to become interested in the operas themselves instead of the men who sing them. You would probably derive much greater enjoyment.

      Miss Cœurne [to herself]. I am too young yet.

      Gerardo. Sacrifice yourself to music. [He comes down stage and gives her the picture.] Don't see in me a famous tenor but a mere tool in the hands of a noble master. Look at all the married women among your acquaintances. All Wagnerians. Study Wagner's works; learn to understand his leit motifs. That will save you from further foolishness.

      Miss Cœurne. I thank you.

      [Gerardo leads her out and rings the bell. He takes up his piano score again. There is a knock at the door.]

      Valet [coming in out of breath]. Yes, sir.

      Gerardo. Are you standing at the door?

      Valet. Not just now, sir.

      Gerardo. Of course not! Be sure not to let anybody come up here.

      Valet. There were three ladies who asked for you, sir.

      Gerardo. Don't you dare to let any one of them come up, whatever she may tell you.

      Valet. And then here are some more letters.

      Gerardo. Oh, all right. [The Valet places the letters on a tray.] And don't you dare to let any one come up.

      Valet [at the door]. No, sir.

      Gerardo. Even if she offers to settle a fortune upon you.

      Valet. No, sir. [He goes out.]

      Gerardo [singing]. "Isolde! Geliebte! Bist du...." Well, if women don't get tired of me—Only the world is so full of them; and I am only one man. Every one has his burden to carry. [He strikes a chord on the piano.]

      [Prof. Duhring, dressed all in black, with a long white beard, a red hooked nose, gold spectacles, Prince Albert coat and silk hat, an opera score under his arm, enters without knocking.]

      Gerardo. What do you want?

      Duhring. Maestro—I—I—have—an opera.

      Gerardo. How did you get in?

      Duhring. I have been watching for two hours for a chance to run up the stairs unnoticed.

      Gerardo. But, my dear good man, I have no time.

      Duhring. Oh, I will not play the whole opera for you.

      Gerardo. I haven't the time. My train leaves in forty minutes.

      Duhring. You haven't the time! What should I say? You are thirty and successful. You have your whole life to live yet. Just listen to your part in my opera. You promised to listen to it when you came to this city.

      Gerardo. What is the use? I am not a free agent—

      Duhring. Please! Please! Please! Maestro! I stand before you an old man, ready to fall on my knees before you; an old man who has never cared for anything in the world

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