HELLEBORE
THE
CLOWN
Maurice
Rowdon


CHARAC 1 E R S
HELLEBORE
* a clown, otherwise Jonathan
Finstanley.
a child and the son of Hellebore.
Albert Lorraine
a theatrical manager and owner.
Bernard Charpentier.
* a journalist.
Neinrich Grelheim
an illusionist, otherwiseHein *
piselhoin.
Eielleim
Eliza Manning.
One of Wwk's assistants.
Eielhein
Helen Eugenie.
e * another of Hjdpia's assistants.
Jean Duloi-Bordeau..
e * - an acrobat.
Pierre Duloi-Bordeau
his brother, also an acrobat.
Henry Sangson.
a young Englishman.
Giordano Celida
an Italian jeweller.
Maria Celida...
* his wife.
Francine Berger
a seamstress, nicknamed "The Virgin"
Benediet Amurrat
R the producer.
Louis Comte.. -
the stage manager.
Jaques..
the dancing master.
PRONOGUE
The scene apart from that of the MMIAAA - is laid in Paris
during Easter, 1920.


PRoho GUE
WWWORWWWWVW
Scene: A hill in Sussex during the early spring of 1907.
Dawn.
A group of aotors stood on the crest of the hill
wi th Hellebore, while the others strolled d own to a path
which crossed the valley. On the right of the hill was the
road leading back to London, and waiting there at this momen t
were the four hac ckney carriages belonging to the company. a
The coachmen were ga ther ed round the first carriage polis hing
wine-glasses and putting them on a large silver tray.
Hellebore was wearing a black overcoat much too big
for him, and at his side, holding on to his trousers, stood
alsmut
alout
a child oflten BSO years.
They were both looking do wn
into the valley, a few feet from the other actors. Hellebore
had thrown part of his overcoat across the boy's shoulders.
The first morning vind was beginning to blow.
Hellelm Hlauced dan at ka clidd und Tpoke to kiu:
Hellebore:
"rdu were asleep, Edgar, We had to carry you
down to the cab.
Edgar:
a Jeanne promised to wake me up, but she didn't,
N tze cliill anend, boutnig. A
the bitch, 'Did you see her?


Hellebore:
"No, I only saw the Irish girl. Jeanne was
still asleep. How is she? '
L 1 seaue aih
Edgar:
: Oh, all riy
Hellebore:
How are things at Monty Brane's?
becaye Lxcited and -camplet
Edgar Zinst ently)/"wo of the ponie S go t S ome thing wr ong with
*1 %e seid.
them, h "They both went down together, and they
had to be shot. ti
H.woddcd, auh tey witihad e
Edw iia silence. Thay tord
close
Hellebore:
"Have you been
ching Jeanne lately?"A.abed
mnete
Egetce;
clild.ei
dreaning, while Edgar:
Yes, but I don't like trapeze work. She wants
te ackors lelind them lalhed
eet X
me to try, but I don't like the work,
theix
ud saufer luill Hellebore:
Well, they can't make you do it if you don't
tace 9 ke
kew
un AU befse
want to.
wan durk.
wan lgfet mercar Edgar:
Oh, Jeanne told me to tell you that people
Igh
Ley
still talk about the Fins, Edgnr Ied Lim
Supily.
Hellebore:
Do they? I should never have thought so.
Edgar:
( What was the Fins? Is
Hellebore:
I'Your mother and me used to do a turn together.
Did you try those stunts I showed you?
Bancat dww
rolvows vecisad aile in
Eid
Edgar:
"Yes, and I did them on my own';
e under his
*e titt Wnou T
leak X-py
Hel le bore :
I'll come down and see you at it one dey a I 111
Lie
take you by surprise, Well. Gaid.
Edgar:
Are you going to take me away this summer?
Helle bore :
11 Well, the show comes off in the first week of


June, I'll write to Jeanne about it. Don't
sweat on it"
The cleild € an nieut t a
seat, then added:
Edgar :
I heard Jeanne sey to Monty you're. a rich
man. Is it true?
Hellebore:
Yes, I'm richer than those two rolled together.
What W ere you doing listening?
Edgar:
I was next door. I heard them.
Hellebore:
"Don't call Jeanne a bitch, ei ther.
Hellolwe
He looked-down at
a child and put his arm round -
te cliild's
aud
his shoulder, He turned to a young actre ss standing near
him.
Hellebore :
Hear what he called Jeannef' he ushed.
Actress:
"on, I expect he hears worse than that.
Hellebore:
Down at Monty Brane's, you mean?
Aotress:
Yes'
41 Nell Illone urdded:
Hellebore:
They have to grow up early down there.
Actress:
Has he st arted properly yet?" ke achen asked
Hellebore:
(1 No, not till he's turned fourteen. Then he '11
be like his dad.
caueup ton
and shipered I lin:
An actor Apehind Hellebore "Wel1, you can keep yoi ur da wns,
Jack,
aypesed
Hellebore with a laught: You'll pull through. There's some
br andy coming.


The coachmen brought the silver trey and glasses to
a stile at. the foot of the hill, and when he saw them
Hellebore walked d own wi th the others.
When the C ompany was
together again he filled the glasses wi th brandy and took
the trey from one person to another.
While the carriages were being turned round they
stood drinking in silence, wato ching the dawn come up.
Hellebore bent down and gave Edgar a sip from his glass.




Scene:
The Hatel de la Regne in the Rue de Rivoli, The
evening of Good Friday, 1920.
Holleline
On Hu Lote lts n.Gmd frtay, 1980
wan due to meat Adert honaine th the t euf 9 the Adelaf
in te Que de Rivoki, The foyer was a long hall with wi aker chairs and
palms on either side, and at the end there was a wide stair-
case leading up to the epartments,
Albert Lorreine stood
waiting at the foot of the staircase in his evening clothes.
He glanced at his watch, then touched his hair lightly with
the tips of his fingers.
He was between fifty and sixty
years old, a small, plump man with a very pale face. He had
tiny, delicate eyes and lips nervously pursed.
He walked back and glanced in at the lounge, where
there were already thirty or forty'people, most of them
st anding and talking together.
A clock on the foyer-wall
chimed half-past seven.
Hellebore turned the comer of the first landing
and waved to Lorraine, They smiled at each other. When he
reached the foot of the staircase they S hook hands in silence,
looking into each other's ey es. Lorraine took Hellebore's
as3
kimn
armx and they went toward the lounge, und afpead
sfocttim
Lorraine:
Did the journey pass quickly ?
Hellehete w eed slug, drawing trucke thwtes e
domereine.
Hellbore (shyly). "Yes, I enjoyed it, Albert, Le sAiA,
and
Lorraine Aputtng his hand on Hellebore's shoulder/ walking
slowerk a
There are fifty people caming tonight,
he said


Hellebore: :
Fifty? Do I know any of them?
Lorraine:
"You know Bernard Charpenter, end Eliza
Manning, Françine Berger, Jean and Pierre
Duloi-Bordeau.
Hellebore:
Is Eiselheim here?
howaine rejalied.
Pf I
Lorraine:
"No, he steyed at the theatre, # We've inter-
upted rehearsals, you see.
Netcloe
Steplmed:
Hellebore:
What, for me?"
Lorraine:
"Xes. We wanted to give you a good welcome,
Jack.
Hellebore:
Have you seen Eliza?
Lorraine:
"Yes, She's inside waiting to see you.
Hellebore glenced into the lounge and instantly
took hold of Lorraine's arm, He drew him back from the do or.
Hellebore:
Is all this for me?
te asked
Lorraine (with nervous
loraine
smile): Yes, Jack, auiaseard with A
smmaile.
HeAA
Hellebore :
But I don't know these people,
Lorraine:
1l I'll keep most of them away from you. I do
promise that. We'll have the introductions
after dinner.
They went into the lounge side by side and most of
the guests turned to look at them. Lorraine took Hellebore
between the groups of standing people, looking about him.
Lorraine:
41 Can you see Eliza? &0 heraise Ashad hina.


sulocd,
short
and ekethise :
Heveyen
Hellebore (aleo looking about):" Are you sure she ceme? s Es Pne
Hen
kim
Bret- fisr A young woman walked up behind Hellebore and said
Se had pu Shad Aamyh vke
quietly in his ear: "I'm here, Jack." / She was a well-built
tnw ph 9 begale Wtuiung alr Me ntinet ya He salm.
young woman, a little taller than both Lorraine and Hellebore, 7.
card
LAcross her right cheek there was a derk scar. Helle bore
turne d instantly.
Helle bore :
Eliza!
They hugged each other, laughing.
sed
Eliza flooking at him cl osely): I've been BO nervous waiting
for
A8 She said,
you,
Hellebore took her hand end turned to Lorraine:
Hellebore:
"Let's find somewhere quiet, - just the three
of us, 0t hE setrist
mtad Vocd
honaine wettod
a dlant anbeint traded
Lorraine: Coi Yegpwel11 have the intr oduc tions after
Hal Nhang W ds
dinner.
They walked to a corner of the lounge and sat down,
a little apart from the other guests.
n.said.
Lorraine:
I heerd you kept cattle in the War, Jaok,
MAaS
Hellebore:
I only had a couple of Ayrshires.
etinp tnhewr Lissif hewns Ase
Lorraine.( (glancing ab out the room):Well, I want thear
lt trtd BESA eek f Levane
about all that, # Have you decided what it's
to be after the Théatre de la Fete?
H. Komet
Hellebore :
Yes, Madrid, - the Circo Allggpia. (To
Eliza)
What ab out Eiselheim? Where will he be going?
he abked.


Re dET
Eliza (wat ching him wi th a smile): Belgium again, I think,
A'He went down well there. - I shall see more of
you now that you're working again, shan't I?
Did you really not go on a stage once?
Hellebore:
I ga ve three private performences, that's all.
And one of those wes at my own place a
mgeng
Eliza (Zouching the back of his hand with her finger-tips)
elon thae who Mwa baaih yraing et thoun B
"Why, Jack? Nobody here: knows why you did it.
Hellebore:
I don't think I know myself.
Lorraine turned towards them, and yorte la lyn:
Lorraine (to Elita): "He did keep his hand in, though. Did
you hear about the gymnasium?
Eliza:
Yes, Bernard was telling me last night, ste Said
hwafe
Lorraine (to Hellebore): I told Bénédict a dress rehearsal
at three o'clock tomorrow afternoon. Is
that convenient?
Hellebore:
Yes, provided I have the stage in the morning,
Lorraine:
I - shall call for you here soon after ten
o'clock,
(To Eliza): Has he changed?
Eliza (gazing at Hellebore): I don't think so, Albert. The
eyebrows are a little fairer, and he isn't
quite so slim. (To Hellebore) What about me ?
Hellebore:
No, you haven't changed, my dear. Are you


going to have lunch with me tomorrow in the
Crimson Tower? Does it still exist?
LArreine:
I had it lengthened, Jack, It now has a
magnificent balcony of its own, and the walls
are panelled wi th mirrors. I shall take you
round the theatre tomorrow morning,
Eliza:
All right, then, we'll lunch together in the
Crimson Tower.
Hellebore:
And ask Helen. Is she here tonight?
Eliza:
No, she's at the theatre wi th Heinrich. They
do annoy me,
Hellebore:
Why, are they together too much?
Eliza:
They spend all day together, but he never
seys a word to her.
They just look at each
other.
She adores him, you know. And I
think he's jealous of you.
Lorraine (quietly): You shouldn't tell Jack these things,
Eliza, I don't know what you can have against
Eiselheim. What have you got against him?
Eliza (half smiling): His silence, his composure
Sometimes he makes me feel quite frightened.
Sometimes I turn round, and there he is
watching me, His eyes are so clear!


Hellebore laughed.
Eliza:
He hasn't come tonight be cause he is jealous
of you, Jack (To Lorraine, as he began to
speak) Of course he is : And Helen must always
follow his whims, Sometimes I'd like to
bang their heads together.
Lorraine:
Don't listen to her, Jack. Eiselheim is at
rehearsal,
Eliza: (Waving her hand in front of Lorraine) Oh, the re-
hearsal isn't important! We only finished at
Brussels three - days ago. He could easily have
come, Jack, So could Helen.
A wai ter brought each of them an aperitif. Lorraine
and : Eliga raised their glasses to Hellebore, and they drank.
Hellebore * (looking up at the ceiling, then at the palms); This
is different from the old place in the Rue
de Tournon. They'll miss me there.
Lornaine:
I thought it was better to have you near the
theatre.
Hellebore (to Eliza): You know why, don't you?
Eliza:
No, tell me.
Hellebore:
He likes to keep an eye on his first turns -
There's a clause in my contract about my
leaving the hotel after midnight, too.


He couldn't keep his eye on me in the Rue
de Tournon.
Eliza:
What's the clause, then?
Hellebore:
You tell her, Albert.
Lorraine:
It simply says that if Jack leaves his hotel
after midnight during rehearsal-time he is
guilty of a breach of cantract, except in the
case of war, fire, pestilence, robbery, earth-
quake, assault or kidnap. But Jack isn't the
only one who has it in his contract.
Eliza: (To Hellebore, with a smile): You're his prisoner,
dear.
Hellebore (hiding a yawn with his hand): A willing one
tonight,
Eliza:
Did the journey tire you out?
Hellebore:
No. I sat on deck and enjoyed myself. It
was sunny all the way over.
Eliza:
Have you spoken to Bernard yet?
Hellebore:
Eliza (pointing): Well, there he is. He has just come in.
She pointed to a tall man, not older than forty, who
was standing by the entrance to the lounge talking and
laughing.
He wore a heavy black cloak with a bronze clasp
and chain at the neck.
He stooped a little as he talked.


Lorraine:
I've asked him to manage the press t onight.
We shall be leaving the press until after
dinner.
Hellebore gazed at him with a frown.
Hellebore:
Leaving what? What are you springing on me?
Lorraine: (stroking his chin) Well, I thought they'd like to
hear a few words from you. After all no-one
in Paris has seen you for five years. (Turning
to look at Charpent tier) Naturally, the newspapers are inter-
ested.
Hellebore (nodding ironi cally): Ah, the newspapers
what
do they want to know?
Larraine (preoccupied): Will you excuse me if I go and have
a word with Bernard? (Rising). What do they
want to know? Perhaps you'd better talk to
Bernard about that over dinner, Jack. I've
put him next to you at table. Will you
excuse me, then?
Hellebore nodded, and Lorraine left him.
Hellebore (watching Lorraine walk towards the door): What's
he up to?
Eliza: Well, you have a big reputation now, dear. People
haven't seen you on a stage for aearly five
years. He wants you to meet the journalists
afterwards and talk to them.


Hellebore: (still watching Lorraine). Well, I'm not a
paper doll.
Eliza (laughing and squeezing his hand); Perhaps you are to
Albert, my dear. He has sunk six hundred
thousand francs in this show, He told me this
afternoon he'd never spent more on a show in
his life.
Hellebore :
I doubt that, (Glencing at her) I was very
surprised to see that note waiting for me,
you know, telling me to wear my dinner jacket
and be punctual.
I thought we were going to
have a nice little supper-party on the stage
or in my dressing-room, like we used to, Does
he expect me to enjoy this?
Eliza:
What about us, then?
We haven't had a bite
to eat since two o'clock this afternoon.
Hellebore:
Why not?
Eliza:
We came straight from rehearsals. Albert in-
sisted. He promised us a little snack as so on
as we got here, but nothing came of it. He
said he must have at least five pe ople from the
theatre here, * so there are Frangine, the
Duloi-Bordeau's, myself and Charpentier,
She picked up his gless and offered it to him, He
took a sip and she laid it down.


Eliza:
You haven't asked after the Virgin,
Hellebore:
No, I was looking round for her a minute ago.
Eliza:
Even now she doesn't look a day older than
seventeen.
She was a nurse in the War. She
was in one of the hospitals very near the front
line, and she had to deal with all sorts of
horrible cases, so Albert was telling me a
And when she was offered leave she wouldn't
take it. She refused leave twice.
Hellebore:
Yes, she's a calm girl, very calm. Has she
still got that lovely fair hair down to her
shoulders?
She hasn't cut it?
Eliza:
No, dear.
She took his hand again.
Eliza (in a low voice): I heard about your son. Where was
he killed?
Hellebore:
Flanders somewhere. I don't know exactly.
Eliza (with asigh): We came down from Brussels by car, and
all along the road there were those ruined
villages,
They sat in silence for some. time,
Eliza:
Did you notice my scar when you came in?
Hellebore:
No, of course not. It doesn't make any diff-
erence to your face,


Lorraine came back and sat down again. He watched
Hellebore anxi ously.
Hellebore :
What's the matter?
Lorraine:
I was thinking, Jack. There's still time
enough to postpone - (intimately) if you really
want to.
I have everything ready in case you
want to do the wise thing and rehearse for
another week, You know what I feel about it
from my letters.
Hellebore:
I know just when I need a long rehearsal, and
at present : a day's enough for me.
Lorraine (frowning): Of course, this leaves me feeling a
little worried,
Hellebore:
When weren't you worried over a First Night?
Lorraine:
I sent you twenty-four cables inside ten days,
Jack, but you seem set against all advice. In
1911 you let me revise the whole of your turn,
but you've changed since then. (Xeaning forward)
You see, Jack, business has been none too good
since the Armis tice, and I have sunk more into
this show of yours than I like to think about.
My restoration coste since 1918 have actually
trebled the fund I set aside for repairs and
dilapidations. During the War, Jack, my


my theatres went to wrack and ruin. Now with-
out you I can't recbup that loss. Naturally,
I'm unwilling to take unnecessery risks, Of
course, Jack, like all business men I tend to
minimise my profits and make much of a loss.
But business ien't an easy' game, and I don't
want to throw away our chances for the sake of
a few more reheersals.
Hellebore:
What do you think I've been doing in Englend?
Lorraine:
But I wesn't there to Bee you, Jack, and
from my point of view over here that show of
ours is going to be under-rehearsed. It's not
arisk I enjoy taking, and the more I think
ab out it the more terrible it seems. Wh% can
whom/
I consult about your rehearsals in England?
No one. Four years is time enough to lose all
your abilities, Jack. In that time you could
forget how to act, you could run to fat, you
could lose enthusiasm, you could forget what it
feels like to stand in front of two thousand
people every man, W oman and child of whom look
on you as the greatest clown in the world.
Eliza:
Don't be depressing, Albert. You're silly
to talk like that.


Lorraine (watching Hellebore): I want him to do the wise
thing. And I wonder whether an English man-
ager would take the risk I'm taking.
Hellebore:
Shall I go back and find out?
Eliza:
You're annoying him, Albert.
Lorraine:
In the War, Jack, people used to be asking
about you all the time. Bernard kept you alive
in this country, and without that column of his
people W ould never have gone on asking, Where
is Hellebore?
Eliza:
Don't take any notice, Jack.
He had no sleep
last night,
Lorraine:
No, I'm very worried about it.
He gazed at the floor with a frown, then he S1 uddenly
smiled and looked up et Hellebore.
Lorraine:
I promise not to worry over dinner. And -
(feeling in one of his pockets) * I wanted to give you S ome-
thing for luck, Jack. Did I bring it?
Eliza:
Yes. I saw you put it in your pooket. It's
only beads, Jack.
Hellebore (with a smile): Ah, you still carry y our beads,
do you?
Lorraine:
Now don't refuse them, Jack, because I must be
humoured in these things, as Bernard will tell
you.


He took from one of his pockets a rosary with black
beads and a silver-plated erucifiz.
He handed it to
Hellebore.
Lorraine:
Now take it to the theatre tomorrow. (Smiling
at Eliza and leaning back in his chair) There, that makes
me feel better.
Do I look tired?
Eliza:
A little pale, Albert.
Hellebore:
Do you still suffer at nights?
Lorraine nodded.
Lorraine:
Nowedays I keep a little samovar in my bedroom,
and when I know there's no hope of sleep I
drink tea.
I usually know by three or four
o'clock. (With a sigh) Leaving the bedroom
at dawn is like walking out of a tomb.
Some-
times I have gone without sleep for three or
four nights together, Jack.
Hellebore:
You worry too much.
You ought to see a doctor.
Lorraine:
But I don't believe in doctors. (Glancing about
him again)
And the older I grow the more I
think about death.
Eliza:
You've got a long way to go yet.
Lorraine:
Whenever I see a young girl, I imagine to myself
what she'll be like in fifty years' time.
can't sit in this lounge without thinking what
it will be like tomorrow morning when everybody


has gone.
Sometimes I'm afraid to go to sleep, you know,
Perha ps that is why I don't sleep at nigats.
Perhaps I'm
afraid I shall die in my sleepx Weil, sleep is a kind of
death, isn't it?
He raised his glass to Hellebore and smiled.




Soene: Hellebore's ap artment in the Hotel de la Rigne.
Fifteen minutes before midnight on Good Friday, 1920.
On the mentel in Hellebore's drawing room stood a
slim damask vase with a handle on each side. He took Lorr-
aine's rosary from his pocket and laid it over the neck of
this vase, so that it was supported by the two handles. A
large and hot log-fire burned in the hearth.
He sat down and for some time gazed into the fire,
then he began to doze.
His head fell very slowly to the
back of the chair, his mouth opened and his right hand became
limp on his knee.
He breathed deeply, as though exhausted.
A church-bell near the hotel struck midnight, and
he woke up with a sharp snore and stared about him. Then
he went to the bedroom and undressed in the dark, He fell
asleep instantly.
At ten minutes past midnight there was a knock on his
drav wing ro om door, then silence again.
The door opened and
closed.
Someone took two or three steps into the room, and
the lights went up. A male voice called out softly: "Mr.
Finstenley." #
It was an Englishman's voice, precise and ed-
ucat ed.
Hellebore opened his eyes.


Hellebore:
Who is that?
Visitor (in confusi on): I'd no idea you'd be in bed.
Hellebore:
Who is it?
Visitor:
My name is Henry Sangson,
Hellebore oursed. He went to the bedroom door and
opened it. He stood on the threshold in his pyjamas, his
hair tumbled, frowning and peering into the lighted drawing-
Eais vatatun
Vivine
Fergeeh Loule i
Henry Sangson stood before the log-fire, He was a
slim young man, no taller than Hellebore. He had a sharp,
aad lang handla.
He bnet Ate abbearn Cf
pale face,
pneat, the
mug,
yeretres
Hellebore:
I'm' sorry. We haven't met before.
Sengson:
My name is Sangson. I knew your son, Edgar,
Hellebore walked into the drawing-room, staring at
the young man.
Sangson:
We were in the army together.
Hellebore shook hands with him absently. They
without
without
watched each other/speeking.
Sengson (lowering his eyes): I was told you kept late hours,
otherwise I should never have come.
Hellebore:
Were you with him when he was killed?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore nodded, then yawned.
Hellebore:
You must give me time to wake up *


Sangson (anxiously): Let me see you tomorrow.
Hellebore:
Now that I'm up you may as well stay a few
minutes. Who told you I kept late hours,
Edgar?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore:
You are about his age, I expect.
Sangs on:
A little older.
Hellebore indicated a chair by the fire, and they
sat down.
Hellebore:
I have nothing to offer you here. And I can't
ring for anyone, be cause that might worry my
manager. I'm a prisoner here, young man. I'm
insured down to my finger-tips. Did Edgar
tell you that?
Sangson: (watching him thoughtfully) Yes, he was always
talking about you.
Hellebore:
How did you come by the name of this hotel?
But perhaps you were at the dinner-perty
downstairs?
Sangson:
No, I wasn't. Mademoiselle Berger told me.
Hellebore:
You know her?
Sangson:
A little.
Hellebore:
She was there to-night.
Sangson:
She told me when you'd be arriving in Paris


and when your dinner-party was likely to end.
I promised Edgar that I'd visit you.
Hellebore:
He asked you to?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore (ill at ease): Was that his dying wish?
Sangson (with a smile); On, no: But I felt under a special
obligation to him be cause we were intimate
friends, and because when he asked me to come
and see you he asked me in a specially serious
way.
Hellebore:
Why?
Sangson:
I don't know why.
They both gazed into the fire.
Sangson:
He worshipped you.
Hellebore:
Did he?
Sangs on:
It was a kind of religious worship. The
thought of you consoled him. He never conn-
ected you with the War. Among your theatres
and, circuses you were holy and immaculate. As
for himself, he thought he was exactly the kind
who ought to suffer it. So there was a kind
of mercy in it for him,
the mercy that it
wasn't being inflicted on you.
If you had
put on a uniform and gone out to Flanders he


W ould have lost faith, because the only
thought that made it bearable to him was the
thought that there was something in the uni-
verse unconnected with war, - namely, you.
He looked about the room with a smile,
Sangson:
I feel likea child who has just come into a
palace. And like a child I don't really
believe you exist. After a time Edgar and I
ceased to think of you in the flesh. You
have a beautiful room here.
Hellebore:
I hadn't really noticed it.
Sangson:
It's the kind of - room I expected you to have.
Edgar told me about the extraordinary houses
you used to buy in England.
He told me you
decorated them fabulously, then, got tired of
them in a few weeks and sold out.
Hellebore:
Oh, those are stories people pick up. I
wasn't used to money, that's true. But don't
believe all those stories.
Sangson:
He used to tell me about your retinue of
doctors, secretaries, gymnasts and masseurs in
the old days. He used. to tell me about your
little daily rituals massage. at ten o'clock
in the morning, a ride in the afternoon, a


coffee-party before each performance. He told
me about the banquets in your honour, your
crowds at the stagedoors, your magnificent
clothes, your opening of charity bazaars, y our
statements to the press, your signature under
the forewords of books, the gymnasium you built
in Wiltshire during the War which could be
turned into a little theatre with a seating cap-
acity of a hundred.
There were so many
things, and I've forgotten most of them. I
never expected to know you in the flesh, and
now, with you in front of me, I can't bring the
two together in my mind - you and Hellebore.
He told me, about your tours from country to
country, and how half the world never. realised
what nationality you were.
The French elaimed
you as French, the Hungarians claimed you as
Hungarian, He told me about the little royal
processions of hansom carriages you used to
take out of London to see the dawn come up, and
the brandy you served from a tray just before
the return journey. (Watching Hellebore with
awe) When you came into this room from your
bedroom just now it was rather like seeing God
for the first time,


Hellebore puzzled, staring at the young man): Was it?
Sangson:
A porter at the door downstairs has instruct-
ions to keep out visitors. A banquet is given
in your honour. Legends fly about that you
keep late hours and perform every evening on
two or three hour's sleep. A special hush falls
on people at the Théâtre de la rete when y our
name is mentioned.
Hellebore:
What people?
Sangson:
I'm thing of Françine Berger. She is a lady-
-in-waiting of the court. A kind of sacred-
ness surrounds you. That's how Edgar and I
used to think of you. We felt we had a special
claim on your attentions because he was your
son and I was your son's best friend. We
seemed to possess you. We could carry you
like a feather in our caps, and sometimes you
made us feel immune to danger.
Hellebore (glancing down): . I'm glad.
Sangson:
He was always proud when people told him he
was like you. And sometimes he annoyed me by
appearing to have a secret too good for other
men, too good even for me. The. secret was you.
It annoyed me to think that you were more his:


possession than mine, being his father. But
I used to console. myself with the thought that
after all he was very unlike you: he had none
of the clown in him. We used to talk about
you in the dug-outs, and between bombardments,
and when it was cold and raining, and when we
were going up for an attack, and when a patrol
had turned out badly. (Awkwardly) When he was
killed the world he had made up for both of
us out of you - fell to pieces, and I was
left in its ruins. You see, he should never
have been allowed to come back to the front
after he was wounded - the first time,
Hallebore:
Wounded? Was he wounded?
Sangson:
Yes, in the spring of 1916. Didn't you know?
Hellebore (mumbling): No, I didn't know that.
Sangson:
But you must have known.
Hellebore (a little impatiently): No, I tell you I didn't.
Sangson:
I say that because the authorities must have
notified you.
Hellebore:
I never heard a word about it.
Sangson:
But he was sent back to England, and he was
in an English hospital for two months. It was
a hospi tal in Herefordshire. He came back to


my company the following year.
Hellebore: (quietly) Well, I was never told about that.
Sangson:
But the War Office must have notified you.
Hellebore shrugged his shoulders, and shivered a
little. He got up, rubiing his hands together, and went to
his bedroom. There he put on a dressing-gown of white
towelling and a pair of bedroom slippers. He walked back
to the fire without looking at the young man and warmed his
hands.
He then went to one of the windows. He pulled the
curtain aside and looked out.
Hellebore:
When was he wounded, did you say?
Sangson:
Early in 1916.
Hellebore:
Well, it's possible they notified me, I suppose.
I moved about a lot in 1916.
The letter was
probably passed on from place to place, and
then lost. I didn't have a settled address
in 1916, you see. It's possible they notified
me and I never got the letter. Was it a bad
wound?
Sangson:
It wes a shrapnel wound in the thigh from a
heavy German shell. I thought it must get him
his discharge from the Arny, be'cause of the
damage to his thigh-bone, But it healed and
within six months he was fit again.


Hellebore (looking at the roofs opposite): I might have been
able to see him, then.
Sangson:
Being an officer
You knew he was an
officer?
Hellebore: (with a frown, lowering his head a little) No,
I didn't realise.
Sangson:
Being an officer he knew what was expected of
him, so he went back to the line in 1917, and
a few weeks after that he was killed. Had his
nerve not been broken when he was W ounded he
would never have been killed, I'm sure of that.
One oE
One of
He was killed in the fiercest battles of the
War. He could no longer bear to hear men
seream. He was always on the point of running#
#away, he was always panic-stricken, though
his face looked determined enough. A terrified
child
man in battle is. like a vulnerable child.
Normally he sees his own death in advance.
(Turning his head to look at Hellebore) The knowledge gives
him a grey, condemned, mute, beseeching look
about the eyes.
Nei ther of them spoke for a few moments.
Sangson;
The authorities should have seen at the end of
1916 that his nerve was going * e But there.


He shrugged his shoulders and there was silence
again.
Sangson:
He wrote you a letter, I think, at the end
of 1915 or in January, 1916.
It was to
tell you he had joined the frny and was
embarking for France.
Hellebore: :
Yes, I remember that one letter.
Sangson:
He thought you might disapprove of it, and
he wrote the letter to find out.
Hellebore: (puzzled by this) Disapprove of what?
Sangson:
Disapprove of his having joined the Army
and volunteered for the western front.
Hellehore:
Who was I to disapprove?
Sangson:
He had such a deep respect for you. He
was anxious to know what you thought.
was anxious to have your good will.
Hellebore:
Oh, he had that.
Sangson:
He tried to imagine your face as you read
the letter. One minute he thought you'd
di sapprove and refuse to answer.
Another
minute he thought you'd be proud of him and
that your answer had gone astray. Another
minute you were preparing a surprise for
him, a father's surprise.


Hellebore:
Did I not reply, then?
Sangson:
I think he put it down to the bad
postal arrangements.
They were bad at the
time.
It was a pity. You could have
helped him, you see.
You could have. prevent-
ed his death.
Hellebore:
How?
Sangson:
He wrote you many letters, you see, and you
answered none of them. * He should never have
been allowed to go back to France.
His nerve
had gone.
It was quite easy to see that from
his letters.
He knew it himself.
He wrote
you two letters from hospital and asked you
to do your best for him, in just so many words.
Hellebore:
But I only remember that one letter.
Perhaps the others never reached me. I only
remember the first one, at the beginning of
And how could I help a soldier?
Sangson:
You could have used your influence to keep
him in England.
Your influence must have
been very great on certain people.
In those
letters he told you his nerve had gone and
that if he went into the line again he'd
certainly walk into trouble.
He told you
that nightmares woke him up at night, that


he seemed to hear men screaming.
He wanted
the company of gentle people, so that he
could learn how to be at his ease again.
Yet he lacked the courage to tell the Army
that.
It was up to you.
He depended on
you.
Hellebore:
What influence had I got, - a clown?
Sangson:
Everyone knew your name o
You must have had
powerful friends.
You could have insisted
like a father on his staying in England.
He expected your fatherly interest and felt
quite confident of it eveni when he was dying.
Hellebore:
What could I have done?
Sangson:
The thing to do was to go straight down to
the hospital and find out how long he'd be
there, then make representations to the War
Office, then visit all your most influential
friends in London to press your claim private-
ly. Oh, it was often done successfully.
I've heard of many instances where mothers
and fathers were able to do this service of
mercy for their children simply by speaking
to the right people at the right time.
had done quite enough in the War.
People
would have knovn that.
When he was wounded


in 1916 he was one of only twelve or fifteen
survivors.
That was out of a battalion. trte
M a o zoa
Hellebore: (turning nervously) You must understand, young
man, 1916 was one of the busiest years of my
life.
There were contracts to terminate,
managers to see, à I had thousands of jobs
to do and I was never in the same place for
more than a fortnight.
(Pacing the room,
frowning)
lly secretary dealt with most of
the correspondence.
And you must understand
that every year I had many, many begging
letters from people, * begging for money, for
release from gaol, for rescue from cruel
husbands.
He stopped and stared at Sangson, then
walked to his chair.
Hellebore: (leaning back wearily) Did you come here to-night
to show me how ruch I'm to blame?
Sangson: (politely) No, Mr. Finstanley.
Hellebore:
I had the letter about his death when I was
alone in the country at the end of 1917.
That was one of my quieter years.
I thought
about his death.
I wrote to Jeanne straight
away.


Sangson:
I remember he wrote your name as his next-of-
kin in his army book.
He gave your address,
not his mother's.
Hellebore:
Well, she brought him up.
I only took him
for holidays and taught him a few stunts.
Sangson:
Really, I suppose, he invented you.
You
were one of his dreams, and very necessary to
him.
You were necessary to both of us, to
bring some warnth into our bodies.
We talked
about you as if you belonged to us.
You
helped us to deny that everything we saw and
heard and touched had death in it, that every
man was dead or dying, that the meaning of
everything in our world was death,
You
helped us to deny the truth,
You helped us
not to die too soon. (Leaning forward) I
curse the day when my eyes were opened to that
empty, forlorn world where your son died.
When he died he was cold, wet to the skin,
speechless and blind, and he couldn't move.
I remember the rain pouring down his face.
He was sitting up.
It was dark.
All he
could do was to sit and wait for death.
wish I could put that memory out.
It was
one thing to know and live in a dead and


ruined world, but, my God, to fall into it,
to become part of it as he did, to have the
universe turn its back on you, to be wi thout
any foothold in a huge desert of emptiness...
They sat gloomily in. silence.
Hellebore:
Are you blaming me for that?
Sangson:
You could have spared him that.
Hellebore: (quietly) But I had my own life.
He gazed at Sangson though tfully for some time.
Hellebore:
Will you listen to me if I tell you a few
things about myself?
Sangson:
Of course.
Hellebore:
When Edgar was born I was only a boy of twenty-
two.
His mother and I separated when he was
five.
He only grew up to think of me as a
father because I had a famous name. Monty
Brane and my wife lived together like married
people, and Monty was more of a father to him
than I was. He heard so many gaudy stories
about me down at Monty Brane's RN the stories
he used to tell you - that he grew up very
proud of me.
I used to give him treats,
and t another thing a I never put my hand
round his mouth like lonty Brane did now and
again.


He paused to watch Sangson.
Hellebore:
Now I was born in a circus, and my father
trained me up as an acrobat and tightrope
walker.
When I was seventeen I could do
everything outside juggling and bareback
riding.
I met Jeanne when my circus went
on its first foreign tour in 1894.
I brought
her over to England and we got married.
She
pursuaded me to go in with her as a partner
for an act of our own, so we practiced a high-
wire and trapeze turn.
I went down to see
Monty Brane, and he signed us on as The Fins.
But I was a clown, young man. I was born a
clown.
We had a lot of quarrels.
When I
was just turned twenty-two I fell off a rope-
ladder in the middle of our act, and I broke
my leg.
I was away for two months, and while
I was away she found out she was going to have
Edger
Edgar
mdlersienerogatsdNMAML-MREMOMANNOMASANR That was
Jorme.
very convenient A Monty Brane took me on in'
a turn of my own, as a clown, Wsoloveawdo
A9WM and tAu I told Jeanne I was
finished with The Fins.
I told her I wanted
to try the halls.
MAMUAAHAWwuOn
Rupwatoropagaauataasoribeuebumantavenctiboa
tuNMevoudAdddoonsacenNMASANserserarrra


Maarvonvotutwwuathtgwtastvl/uta-ldbtt tivt
Aberlouitloueletloueent MANACLOL N
MolmoupordlbuwtorMondbartharsomunt - Aatt a Y F uade
MEDMAZLNN
MMNVELEklagevt
bogterustnytiaarsevugu I learnt a lot
about the stage in the next few years,
especially about the way to use my face.
had hardly used my face at all in the circus.
The trouble with the circus is while you're
making one side of the audience laugh, the
other side can only see the back of your head.
Ahpbhng I got Ery first good contract in London
in 1903, and I took the name Hellebore.
(With a smile) So I'm made of flesh and blood,
after all.
It took me years of practice to
build up my turn. A lot of people used to
worship me like Edgar did.
That's quite
natural.
I was mobbed once.
But you can't
lay a whole war at my feet.
You and I lived
in two different worlds.
I knew nothing
about yours.
Thousands of men were killed
in the War, but you can't lay their deaths
at my feet.
Sangson:
I would never try to.
Hellebore: (with an uneasy smile) You sounded as though you
were.


Sangson: (without passion) All I said was that a word from
you could have prevented Edgar's death.
That was all.
Hellebore:
But I hardly had a private life at all.
Sometimes I never had a moment to myself for
six months on end.
Thousands of people
used to write ne letters.
I had to travel
up and down the country every week.
When I
wasn't travelling I was practising, and when
I wasn't practising I was on the stage
performing.
Sangson:
Then you'd become a kind of statue.
Hellebore:
Listen to me, young man, you could take all
mry carpets and my managers and Iry earnings
and my cronies and my clothes and my cabs
and my hotel suites and my foreign contracts
and Ery nasseurs, you could take them away
and drop thon in the sea if you liked, but
I'd go out in the street and I'd do a turn
and I'd get an audience somehow.
That's
because I've got the spunk of a clown,
a clown down to the nails on my feet. (Tap-
ping his own chest, his face flushed) What
do you think I am, some pot-bellied pie-can


with a million of money?
It's people like
you who make me a statue, people like you and
Edgar.
What about all those stories he told
you, about rides in the Park and royal
processions?
They're not true, I tell you,
they're not true.
Sangson glanced at him diffidently and they sat
in silence.
Suddenly Hellebore smiled and jumped up.
Hellebore: (briskly) Let's go out, young man. Let's find
somewhere warms
I'm wide-awake and I'm
hungry. You know Paris.
Take me somewhere.
Sangson: (astonished by this) But surely you must sleep now,
Hellebore: (walking towards his bedroom) Come and talk to me
while I change.
Sangson followed him into the bedroom, and Hellebore
took his evening clothes out of the wardrobe.
Hellebore: (excitedly)I haven't done this, I haven't gone
out at this hour of the morning for the best
part of five years,
He began changing while Sangson stood at the door,
watching him,
Hellebore:
Are you always thinking about the War?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore:
It seems to have got into your blood.
Sangson:
Yes, I suppose I belong to the War. I feel


I shall never be able to tear myself away
from it.
It won't let me live properly.
Before it happened I felt I belonged to a
few friends and a small town in Somerset,
but now I don't belong to anything,
except
to War,
When you fight in a war you root
yourself like a plant into another world,
a world of murder.
Whereas once you helped
people into chairs and smiled at them, now
you set mines for them to fall on, and you
run your bayonet through them.
And these
are things you can't forget.
bhebilactsu
rubsupr
toplictaktateutblotintlotitotb E
Abopllutolsbstorattwituagcellttulbttopmastan
Mbhous/ortiver(vconeattadtisehgowitnincald
AMAAIA I ought to have been killed, like
Edgar, That would have been logical.
Hellebore drew his chair nearer the mirror to tie
his bow.
Hellebore:
Go about the world as if you didn't have a
past, it can be done. (Turning from the
mirror to face him) What's your work?
Sangson:
I work in a jeweller's shop.
Hellebore:
In a shop?
An educated young fellow like
yourself?


Sangson: (nodding resignedly) Exactly.
The work has no
meaning for me.
Hellebore:
Why do it, then?
Are you free to leave it?
Could you leave Paris if you wanted to?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore:
Well, then, why don't you?
Sangson:
I'm well looked after here.
I've nothing to
go away to.
Hellebore:
And suppose there had never been a war
what would you have done?
Sangson:
I had work as a solicitor's clerk when I was
fifteen, and I would have saved money from
that and used it to take a teachers' certifi-
cate when I was nineteen.
Hellebore: (staring at him) And here you are selling jewels
in a Paris shop.
Sangson:
I refused to go back to England because my
childhood was finished.
In the War I met a
man called Celida.
We became friends, and
he invited me to his house here in Paris.
Then he offered me a job in one of his shops.
He is a rich man, and his wife is devoted to
He has a large house, and servants.
Hellebore:
But how is it you can do work that bores you?


Sangson:
Oh, I think while I'm doing it.
Hellebore got up to put his jacket and overcoat on.
Hellebore:
War took away all your hope.
But we've got
to get used to death,
Sangson: (shaking his head) I never did, and I never will.
Hellebore:
But mustn't you try and forget these things?
Sangson:
Have you ever seen a dead man?
Hellebore stared at him.
Hellebore :
Sangson:
You came upon him suddenly.
There he was,
blind and mute, exactly as trees are.
You
sometimes felt him watching you.
A moment
before, perhaps, you heard his voice, but now
you were alone.
He was still there, yet you
were alone.
That's the petrifying thing
that happens when you come across a dead man:
you become alone in a universe of mute,
eternal things.
And you can't get used to
that.
No man can get used to that.
Hellebore buttoned his overcoat, then took his hat
and can from the dressing-table.
Sangson: (watching him put on white gloves) I've been an
evil visitation to-night.
Hellebore walked into the sitting room.
As he
passed Sangson he pinched his cheek lightly with his gloved


hand.
Hellebore:
But suppose you had never come?
I should
have gone on living like an orchid on other
people's dresses. (With a glance at the
dying ashes in the fireplace) I shall move
tomorrow.
This room feels like an under-
taker's.
Well, I'm ready to make a night
of it.
Where shall it be?
Sangson:
I know a phar called Les Anges.
It's the
only place I can recommend after midnight.
Hellebore:
Is it far?
Sangson:
It's in the Rue St. Honore.
Hellebore went across to a snall table between
the windows and took a rose from the bowel.
He put it in
his button-hole and smiled at Sangson.
Hellebore:
One for you?
He looked at Sangson in silence, waiting for an
answer, smiling.
Sangson:
You see, when I say you helped to kill Edgar
I really mean you helped to kill me.


III


Scene 1: Les Anges, a casino at the fashionable end of the
Rue St. Honore, soon after one o'clock in the morning.
The entrance hall of Les Anges had high columns
and tapestried walls on either side.
At the top of a wide
stone staircase was the corridor leading into the club-rooms
themselves.
The lustres in this entrance hall were not
alight, and only a bare arc-lamp shone down onto the
stair-case from the third landing.
weuttotiltullodiestttableolelbtbeclluel Lebbldlletietiddballtidddlt
* D - Aatobleucbtlibtteereblildibuditulitholltaylebctymsutabed
canercavensioted lecuasatorevebsadeupulageroblsnobansubetr
If Hellebose
Mey walked behind Sangson down the narrow corridor to the
curtained doors of the dining room.
Sangson pulled aside
one of the curtains and went in.
The orchestra could be
heard from their right playing a quick waltz.
Uslibiteveowuauotovaduainintasapaptubbn
duutaulevrbeubulbstinuribonscubeuseerrstletsbet
tmuaroadatbbsoguletadagttlarmlsoreubilltdsotbedlltr
Hotbucldablod
tusauautucibct a altulttilitscacbepe
Rustbeauchbuumoinconbancrwber -
a3 6 A à A C sade
Lohhbugeb
AEbOLRUS dal r
The
ceiling was made of frosted glass with robed figures
engraved across it.
Being illuminated from behind this
glass had the appearance of being a huge, solid block of


light. <
Some people in fancy dress were throwing long paper
streamers over the heads of the dancers in the ballroom.
One after another the streamers flew across the room, fall-
ing onto the shoulders of the dancers, then gradually
floating down until they were split and trodden underfoot.
The throwers laughed loudly, and one of them clapped his
hands at a waiter nearby and imitated a man thirstily
drinking.
sauthelbsldlddatitblbLoN0L00g-0bbauAaed
eumetylwstlaeroueroargeraobbandsoudlbongiear UstdbwM
In thesa walls there were arched niches each containing
small plaster casts of classical soulpture illuminated by
violet, blue and yellow lights.
Belloulooladutpuvatonassbasciakedtnciunkesteradlisila
enultblatudtAbAbAuugaistlulaalBb okddullatiANgNOUEiLvelougrurellougiue
lononulavasllotimhavelindaguouosotlogiony nnwuuautongs
18 fellelute aud Saupion weut up
Abletsuthantablas
aoounusonoasd/to a table at the
very back of the room, almost under ftg minstrel's gallery,
atwrtutellodonprellose.bsoubendusteibilzuredlitasdedolbcubdibur
Gubltllallabodbunthannccnleduthellutltticbldseginconiblarca
AMMOUMMANUALbwdaWnbota


Hellebore:
Who owns it?
Sangson:
A wealthy silk-merchant.
He bought
it in the last year of the War, and it was
only opened six months' ago.
Hellebore:
He bought the entire house?
Sangson:
No, only this small wing of it.
The house was built in the middle
of the seventeenth century and it was
called the Hôtel de Serabini.
Then
twenty years ago it became a consulate,
and the consulate released this wing
in the last year of the War.
The
entrance hall downstairs still belongs


them, It used to be their grand reception
hall. (Leaning back with a smile) This is
yhat happens when a manufacturer from Lyons
decides to buy a club.
He thought he was
going to get a fashionable clientele, but all
he got were people much like himself.
Hellebore (quietly, still watehing the ballroom): What are
you doing here, then, as a member?
There
aren't any young people here.
It's a club
for middle-aged people.
None of these people
have ever been young. You can see that by
the look on their faces.
Sangson:
The Italians I share house with brought me
here.
Hellebore:
Has the War taken all the go out of you, then?
Sangson (puzzled): Why?
Hellebore:
Well, I thought any other young man would
have found a club of his own.
You don't
seem to know Paris.
You don't know where
to eat and have a good time.
You come here
where everybody is middle-aged.
The waltz ended, and two or three couples ascended
from the ballroom to the dining room.
Sangson:
But you wanted supper (Rising) By the way a
I shall have to introduce you to my benefactor:


They're here.
Hellebore:
To who?
Sangson:
To the Italian couple I told you about this
evening; the Celidans, the people I share
house with.
I saw then as I came in.
Hellebore:
Yes, you must tell me about them.
Sangson left the table, spoke to a waiter on his
way down the steps to the second tier, then he turned left
into a corridor.
A new dance began, and Hellebore watched a man
and woman from the table nearest him go. down to the second
tier of the dining room, then into the ballroom.
The
streamers were now all in fragments on the dance-floor and
their rustling could be heard from the dining room as the
couples swept them forward with their feet.
While Sangson was away a waiter brought two glasses
of Italian Vermouth to the table, then laid the cutlery
for a meal.
Hellebore sipped his drink, and a few
moments later Sangson returned.
Hellebore:
They only seem to do the old dances.
I've
been waiting for the one-step. phtdvekorat
AMIAA
Sangson:
No, they don't play ragtime here.
The band
Sir
does FE Roger de Coverley and the Lancers
if you ask them.
You have to put in a


request with one of the waiters.
Hellebore:
But do these French people know how to dance
Sir
Sir
Roger de Coverley and the Lancers?
Sangson:
Some do.
Hellebore continued to stare down into the ballroom
with a frown.
They were silent.
Sangson sipped his
drink shyly, watching Hellebore.
Sangson:
Do you prefer the new dances, then?
Hellebore:
No, I like the old tunes.
But I'd give any-
thing to see young people dancing round that
floor and enjoying themselves.
I like the
one-step MMMMNMAA because young
people do it.
Again they sat in silence, listening to the
orches tra.
Sangson:
Have I nade you miserable this evening?
I'm sorry I used those words about your
killing me.
I don't know why I said it or
what I meant.
Hellebore:
No, but the fact is you said it.
He turned towards Sangson slowly.
Hellebore:
Listen to me, Sangson.
You went out to
Flanders because you wanted to.
I didn't
ask you to go.
And in your place I'd never
have gone.
In your place I'd never have


joined up.
My work comes first with me 2
and it always has done o
I don't care if
Jerry had won the War and then burnt my
theatre down, my work still comes first.
You'd never have caught me taking the trip
to Flanders.
If Edgar wanted to go.out and
risk his life, that was his business.I didn't
ask either of you to go, and I don't owe you
any thanks for winning the War.
Sangson (uncomfortably): We weren't fighting for you or
anyone else.
We weren't even fighting for
our country.
Hellebore:
You went out to cut fine figures, though.
Sangson:
Well, that may be true.
Hellebore:
If he'd come to me and asked me what to do,
I should have said, do what you want to do
if you do that you'll only have yourseli to
blame.
When I was fourteen years old I
wanted to be a clown and get a first turn,
and I became a clown and I got a first turn.
I'm the sort that gets what he wants. You've
only got to look at my chin we it belongs to
a man who gets what he wants. (Putting his
hands on the table) And the same with my
hands.
I never came along and asked you to


live my life for me, and I'm not going to
live yours for you.
Every man's free to do
what he can in this world.
He watched Sangson in silence.
Hellebore:
You let the War Office push you about, and
you've only yourself to blame. If you
didn't like the War you ought to have been
a conchy.
It's no good being a conchy
afterwards.
Sangson:
It wasn't against my conscience to kill
Germans.
I volunteered to do it.
wanted to do it.
Hellebore:
Why?
Sangson:
I think I volunteered to see men die, to see
their blood and hear them scream,
I only
volunteered when I knew what kind of war it
was, when I heard about the explosives and
the casualty rate.
I couldn't bear that
there should be so much suffering and E not
there.
I wanted to suffer.
Hellebore (Bhaking his head in wonder): I can't understand
What made you want to suffer?
can't understand it.
Why go and throw
away your life? R a decent young man like you?
Sangson (with a shrug): Oh, well, I would have had to go
anyway.


Hellebore:
But I can't understand it.
Here you are
working in Paris in a jewellers' shop when
you could go back to England to-morrow if
you wanted to and live a life of your own.
Sangson:
No, the War killed my faith in - well, it
simply killed my faith.
Hellebore:
How did it do that?
Sangson (after a pause): It taught me that at any minute
the worst can happen.
It seemed to kill my
sense of having a future before me. After
the War the world became a cold and desolate
place for me.
I needed protecting against
And my work at the jeweller's shop
does protect me. It's so simple.
needs no thought whatsoever.
Hellebore: (staring at him) How does it protect you?
Sangson:
It gives my life a fixed order.
I go to
the shop soon after nine in the norning,
I call on Signor Celida for lunch at half-
past noon, and then I return home for a bath
and aperitifs soon after five o'clock in
the evening.
I daren't live otherwise.
I couldn't bear to have all day in which to
remember my past.
I couldn't bear freedom.
I've become terrified of thinking, I suppose.


Hellebore:
Then the War turned you into a child. Yes,
you've got the look of a Trightened child
sometimes.
What do you think about at your
work, then?
Sangson (glancing away): Oh, I daydream.
Hellebore:
But don't you ever want to do something else?
Sangson:
Yes, I do, very often.
But as far as
ambition goes I'm like a man who worships
the dawn and always sleeps through it.
He looked down at the second tier of the dining-
room and watched a man and woman rise from their table and
go towards the archway.
Sangson:
Look.
Those are my friends.
Hellebore:
The Italian couple?
Sangson:
Yes.
Hellebore watched them Eo down the staircase to
the ballroom and begin dancing.
The woman was dark and
well-built, and she appeared to be in her late thirties.
Her husband was a small, slim man with a pale face and
hair grey at the edges.
His clothes were very neat, and
he moved deftly.
Sangson:
They've been kind to me.
Without them I
shouldn't be living in Paris.
Giordano
and I met in Belgium in 1916, and we became
friends.
Then we met again in the last few


months of the War and he invited me here.
They have a large house in the Rue du Bois
de Boulogne.
Hellebore :
She's a fine-looking young woman.
Sangson:
They're not a happy couple. (With a quick
glance at Hellebore) They both want a child,
and he can't give her one.
Hellebore:
Sangson:
He'll never be able to.
Hellebore:
Did he have an accident in the War, then?
Sangson (shyly): No.
He has been to the doctors, and
it's true he's sterile.
No doubt there
are explanations.
It isn't merely that
they'd like a child: they feel they must
have one.
She yearns for a child every day.
And in a few years' time she'll be too old.
Her body cries out for a child, the more so
because she feels she might never have one.
And of course the idea of his being sterile
horrifies Giordano.
He'd be willing to let
her sleep with someone else just to get the
child.
Hellebore: (quietly) Well, then, there's the solution.
Why doesn't she go and sleep with someone
else?


Sangson:
It's so difficult for them..
He turned and watched the couple dancing.
Sangson:
She has her religion, and sleeping with some-
one else is a mortal sin.
Hellebore (with a shrug): It depends how badly she needs
the child.
Sangson:
She doesn't want to hurt Giordano.
She
insists they choose a father together.
They've waited too long, I think.
She has
dreamed about it too much.
They've talked
it over too much.
Giordano knew he was
sterile five years ago.
They've waited all
this time, presumably for the right father..
Oh, it's a very miserable business, believe
The more they wait for the right man
the less likely are they to find him.
Hellebore:
What about yourself?
You could have slept
with her,
You aren't sterile.
You're
decent-looking.
Sangson (a little taken aback): It would seem like incest,
I suppose.
I live in the same house, and
ever since I came to Paris Maria has treated
me like a son.
(With a smile) Perhaps I
sometimes look to them like a frightened
child, as I do- to you.
When I came to Paris
I needed a little nursing.
No; perhaps


they'll never be able to choose.
She may
be incapable of being unfaithful to'him,
and he of allowing it.
I often wonder
whether they are too devoted to each other.
A waiter brought champagne and an ice-box to the
side of their table.
Hellebore (nodding slowly): Yes.
It's a miserable
business.
The dance ended.
Most of the couples went to
the velvet seats at the side of the ballroom, and three or
four waiters clad in white hurried down from the dining
room to take their orders.
As Haria Celida returned to
her table she looked towards the minstrel's gallery and
noticed Sangson.
She waved her hand, then pointed him
out to her husband,
He bowed and smiled.
Hellebore: (watching them) They seem out of place here.
Sangson:
Yes, they look as though they are thinking
something out between themselves.
Yet
they're rich shopkeepers like all the other
people here.
Hellebore:
They must have confided in you a lot.
Sangson:
Yes, they've been honest with me a
Hellebore:
But they're very fond of you.
They trust
you.
I can see that.
Sangson: (gazing down at the Celidals) We've laid our


sufferings honestly before each other.
Perhaps that's why.
The waiter drew their champagne from the ice and
turned away from the table. He crouched with the bottle
between his knees and opened it.
Hellebore yawned.
Sangson:
Are you tired?
Hellebore:
A little.
But I'm not going back to that
room of mine in a hurry.
It reminds me of
death, after all your talk. A young fellow
like you ought to have something better to
talk about.
(Taking up his champagne,
sipping it). But I like hearing you talk.
None has talked to me like that since I left
the eircus seventeen years ago. We used to
sit and talk in the caravans at night
Another waiter brought the first course of their
dinner, and they began eating.
Sangson:
I saw the rosary in your room.
Are you
religious?
Hellebore:
That was a present from Albert Loraine.
(With respect) He's very superstitious.
Sangson:
Who's Lorraine?
Hellebore:
Hy manager for continental tours, No, I've
never been in need of religion myself.
Sangson filled dellebore's glass with champagne.


Hellebore:
You must meet some of these people. (Struck
by the idea).
You must meet Lorraine for
one thing, then Eliza.
They'd like you.
Come along to the theatre tomorrow afternoon
and we'll meet a few of them.
Sangson (a little awkwardly): But Mademoiselle Berger...
lellebore:
Ah, of course, you know Francine.
Sangson:
She tells me the rehearsals are going to be
rushed.
Perhaps I ought to come next week.
Hellebore:
Yes, it's true the rehearsals are going to
be rushed. (Excitedly) I've come from
England with only a day to spare.
I wanted
to slip into the show at the last minute.
My dress-rehearsal is tomorrow afternoon.
I didn't want to break the spell.
I would
rather have begun my rehearsal tonight as
soon as I arrived.
Those five years off
the stage made me very impatient. (Looking
up at Sangsof)But that won't prevent us
having a cup of tea together in the dressing
room.
No, let's meet in the Crimson Tower.
That's behind the Dress Circle.
It's a
crimson room we use for rehearsals.
Call
at the Box Office first and find out whether
I've left a message for you.
I'll have


finished my dress rehearsal by five o'clock.
Come at four o'clock.
Sangson (politely): Very well, then. I shall look
forward to that.
Hellebore:
Lorraine is the son of an American business-
man.
I think he's going to like you.
His
mother was French, a very religious woman.
She brought him back to France when he was
fourteen.
Then he came into his father's
money when he was a young man and invested
some of it in a theatre.
In 1889 he built
his own theatre, and that's where I'm going
to perform tomorrow night, 1 the Théâtre de
la Féte.
Of course, nowadays he owns four
or five theatres in Paris, but that's his
favourite.
He puts on all the biggest shows
at the Theatre de la Fête. He's putting
six hundred thousand francs into this show
of mine tomorrow night, and I doubt whether
he has spent more on a single show in his
life.
Yet I haven't been near a professional
stage for five years. (Drinking back his
champagne) He's one of the richest men in
France, but he'll never miss going to Church.


I think he worries too much.
But that's
because he isn't married.
He needs a woman
behind him, though I should think a woman
would find him a little too fussy. He likes
his two baths every day, and his fingernails
are always just so.
I've never seen a crease
in his suit.
He's terrified of being ill,
and of course he never is ill.
He takes
good care to look after himself.
Sangson:
Who was the other person you mentioned?
young woman.
Hellebore:
Eliza,
You'll like her.
She's a special
friend of mine.
N OW Lorraine's keen on her.
She has a scar down one side of her face which
I think makes her look all the prettier.
Have you ever heard of Nidok?
Sangson:
Who?
Hellebore:
Nidok the Illusionist.
Sangson:
Hellebore:
Well, he's in the show tomorrow night.
And
Lliza is one of his assistants.
She gets
sawn in half, and that sort of thing.
She's
a fine, sturdy girl.
You ought to see her
among the tigers.
She can do anything wi th
them.


Sangson:
The tigers?
Hell ebore:
Yes, Nidok's tigers.
They are part of his
act.
That's how she got the scar. She
was mauled during a performance about twelve
years ago, when she was a girl of twenty-two.
All the tigers were on their perches, and one
of them got angry with Nidok.
He had his
back turned and the tiger tried to claw at
his shoulder.
It missed and then looked as
though it was going to leap on Nidok from
behind,
Eliza ran across and gave it a
smack on the mouth with her whip.
At the
same time she shouted, and Nidok jumped out
of the way. The tiger turned on her.
knocked the whip out of her hand and caught
her on the right cheek with one of its claws.
Sangson:
How horrible!
Hellebore:
Now that tiger never gave any trouble before
and it has never given any trouble since.
Every day it watches Eliza come into the cage,
and it never stirs.
She can do what she like
with that animal.
It licks her hand and lets
her tickle its ears.
Animals can be funny
like that.
This one was born in captivity,
and they're always more dangerous than the


wild ones.
They suddenly turn.
The wild-
ness comes out of then, and then it's all
over.
If you saw that tiger now you'd call
her a docile animal.
She'll be on that stage
tomorrow night.
I wonder if she remembers
turning on Eliza like that?
He took the champagne and filled Sangson's glass,
then his own.
Sangson:
Have you ever had an accident in the circus?
Hellebore:
Yes, I've had a good many little falls. But
the worst accident I ever had was when I was
doing an act called The Fins with my wife..
Now I had that accident because I was unhappy.
There was no other reason.
I wasn't giving
myself to the work.
It was stilted work.
There was nothing versatile in it. I always
say a man's work is what he needs to do, not
what he's got to do.
This was plain acro-
batics and trapeze-work.
ily heart wasn't in
I fell and broke my leg.
I was half-
way up the rope ladder to the high-wire and I
slipped.
My right foot went between the rung
I lost my grip and fell backwards.
The
ladder swung out a foot or two into the ring,
otherwise I should have fallen straight int o


the audience.
I fell on one leg about
twelve feet. (Leaning forward eagerly. )
You see, I was engry with my work,
I was
ashamed of it.
I used to sulk for hours on
end. I was like a prisoner to this woman. *
She thought I was in the circus for a job of
work.
She didn't understand the circus was
my life.
Now since I've been a clown with
an act of my own I've hardly had a fall to
speak of. I never have to think what I'm
doing.
My body wants the work, and therefore
it obeys me all the time.
When I was working
with her I couldn't look people in the eyes.
I remember that.
I was ashamed of myself,
you see.
It wasn't my work.
Yet another
man would say the same about clowning.
He'd
say it was dirty work,
Well, it is some-
times.
He looked to his left at the table where the
Celida's were sitting, on the lower tier.
Hellebore:
Do they come here often?
Sangson:
Who?
Hellebore :
Your Italian friends.
Sangson:
Oh, yes, they consider it the fashionable
thing to do.
They come here twice or three
times a week.
They'd look on themselves as


dull people if they didn't.
(Looking about
at the other members) You'd be surprised
what, illegal business goes on between some
of these people.
Giordano has done a bit
of smugeling in his time across the Italian
border.
Most of them deserve a prison
sentence.
Hellebore:
I can well believe it.
Sangson:
Paris is no place for Maria.
Her father was
a small farmer in Tuscany.
She was born and
brought up there.
You can see by the way
she danced just now that she's a country
woman.
She doesn't try to dance elegantly
like the other women here.
Sangson sipped his champagne slowly, and Hellebore
watched him as he did so.
Hellebore:
Are you fond of the drink?
Sangson: (pointing to his glass) This, you mean?
Hellebore:
I mean, do you drink a lot?
Sangson:
I very rarely have more than a few
glasses of wine.
Hellebores
My father took to drink,
He was finished
for the circus after that.
He tried his
luck at the stagedoor selling songs at a
dollar a number, but no good came of it.


That was when I was fourteen.
He used to be
a fine acrobat in his day. Of course, those
were the days when the cireus used to ride
through your town in a long procession, and
the day when the circus turned up was a real
holiday.
The band used to go in front, then
the horses and ponies and elephants all
spruced up.
There used to be big golden
tableux on the carts with the frapeze-girls
on top, and you could see the lions in their
cages.
The clowns used to walk alongside;
they used to fool about and give sweets to
the kiddies.
You don't see that kind of
thing nowadays.
The circus my father was in
went round the same circuit for thirty years,
between 1862 and 1892.
It was always the
same circuit up to Leeds and back again.
The circus could be a rough life, you know.
We had to be careful of the gangs.
Sometimes
they'd try to burn the tents down.
Three or four waiters went across the ballroom
gathering up the paper streamers.
The plush seats on
either side were now crowded with people waiting for the
next dance.
When the floor was again clear the orchestra
struck up into a pfolka, and most of them moved down to
dance.


Hellebore watehed the dance closely, tapping his
feet to the music.
When they had eaten Sangson called a
wine-waiter to the table and ordered cognac.
Hellebore
leaned back with a smile.
Hellebore:
I've eaten like a trooper.
It shows you I
couldn't have eaten much at the hotel tonight.
I was nervous.
They asked me to give a
little speech.
I didn't feel at home.
expected something quite different when I got
off the boat.
Sangson:
Well, now we've eaten I ought to ask Maria
and Giordano to join us here. What do you
think?
Hellebore:
I should be delighted.
H ow's the time?
Sangson:
A little after two o'clock. (Looking into
his eyes) Would you rather go back now?
Hellebore (emphatically): No, no.
Let me me et your
friends.
Sangson rose and was just about to leave the table
when a waiter came with cognac.
He drank it standing in
one gulp.
Hellebore watched him, then did the same -
They put their glasses back on the table simultaneously,
and as they did so they glanced at each other and laughed.
Sangson went down to the second tier and spoke to
Maria and Giordano Celida.
They turned and looked up with


surprise at Hellebore.
Giordano Celida peered at him
and smiled as Sangson talked to them.
Then he nodded and
rose, and all three came up the narrow gangway towards
Hellebore's table *
Hellebore was still laughing a little
to himself.
He got up and pushed his chair back noisily,
then went a little way to meet them, his hand outstretched.
Sangson introduced them, and a waiter brought two
more chairs to the table.
Giordano (genially): We have a box for tomar row night,
Monsieur.
Hellebore:
I'm delighted.
Maria (with a smile): Tonight, my dear.
Giordano:
Of course! (Neatly pulling back his sleeve
and glancing at his watch) - In eighteen hours'
time.
Hellebore:
Don't remind me *
Maria and Giordano laughed politely.
Giordano turned and beckoned to one of the waiters
who was standing on the lower tier.
Giordano:
I saw one of your performances in Italy.
Hellebore:
Where would that have been?
Giordano:
Ah, of course, you don't remember it.
was a long time ago, eleven years ago, in
Rimini,
Hellebore :
But I do remember. (Turning to Sangson) That
was my first continental tour.


A waiter stood at Giordano Celida's side, bowing
respectfully.
Giordano:
Now we shall celebrate this honour. (Leying
his hand on Hellebore's arm) Because you
understand it is an honour meeting you here.
I always thought you were a little.. a little
magical.
But here you are in the flesh.
So a (taking a wine-list from the waiter) -
we shall celebrate.
(With a quick, method-
ical glance at Hellebore) You like champagne ?
Hellebore nodded, watching him.
Giordano selected
a vintage, and the waiter left hurriedly.
Hellebore:
Have you always lived in Paris?
Giordano:
No, Monsieur.
We came away from Italy in
Hellebore:
What made you want to leave?
Giordano (moving closer to him): There wasn't a big enough
living to be had.
Both of us love our country
but
(rubbing his thumb and forefinger togeth-
er) - it was a question of bread and butter,
you understand. My idea was to go to America.
I had just enough money.
We were both young.
Maria was just turned twenty-one. But there!
Maria + well, you know what women are!
Maria:
I hated the thought of going to America.


Giordano (smiling at her): Shef the daughter of a Tuscan
farmer, and it was all I could do to get her
here.
We had ten years in Toulouse.
were in partnership with another Italian,
not a very successiul partnership.
Then we
came to Paris a few months before War broke
out.
I managed to put the business on its
feet in the first year of the War, a though
I don't know how.
Maria (to Hellebore): By working very hard, believe me.
Giordano:
It went well during the War, and now we have
a very fashionable little business.
And one
of our clients is a gentleman called Monsieur
Albert Lorraine who (with a little bow) I
believe is known to you.
Hellebore:
Of course, of course.
Giordano: (flattered) He often visits us..e Yes, I saw you
perform in Rimini eleven years ago.
I remem-
ber your name outside the theatre: ELLEBORO.
But I never thought I would ever come face to
face with you.
(To Sangson) You called at
Mr. Finstanley's hotel, then?
Sangson:
Yes.
Maria:
You should have told me before.
Then we
could all have had dinner at home.


A waiter brought champagne and fresh glasses to
their table.
Maria (to Sangson): We were so surprised to see you.
Did you walk down?
Sangson:
Yes.
I left the house soon after eleven
and walked down to the Rue de Rivoli.
Maria:
You could have borrowed the car. We could
quite easily have left it.
The waiter poured the champagne, and Giordano
raised his glass.
Giordano (to Hellebore): A health, then.
Maria and Sangson raised their glasses.
Giordano:
In honour of Hellebore, wishing him success
tomorrow night - (correcting himself with a
smile)
tonight.
Hellebore raised his glass first to Maria, then to
Giordano, and they all drank.
Hellebore:
Thank you both.
The polka came to an end and there was the sound
of applause from the ballroom.
Maria and Giordano turned.
All the couples who had been dancing remained on the floor
to applaud the orchestra.
Maria (with a laugh, to Hellebore): They want it again!
Giordano :
She tires me out dancing.
Silence fell in the ballroom, and then the crowd


sighed.
The conductor raised his baton under a yellow
spotlight from the minstrel's gallery, and the orchestra
struck up into a second polka.
Maria (eogerly ): It's another one!
Giordano and Sangson laughed at her, and, seeing
them laugh, she put her hand over her mouth.
There were
now many couples on the dance-floor, and the light stamp-
ing of their feet could be heard above the orchestra.
Giordano (laying his hand on Hellebore's arm): Dance with
my wife.
Please.
Show her how you dance.
Hellebore:
I should be delighted.
He got up and bowed to Maria.
Together they went
down to the crowded ballroom.
Giordano and Hangson
watched them as they took up the dance.
Giordano:
What made you call on him?
Sangson: (still watching Hellebore): I don't know why I
went, Giordano.
I'd already gone to bed.
I got up again just after eleven and walked
down to the hotel.
Francine told me which
hotel it would be.
Giordano:
Does he know about her?
Sangson:
Know what?
Giordano:
I mean, what did you tell him about her?
Sangson (understanding): Oh, I said we were friends,
more.


Giordano:
And you talked about Edgar?
Sangson nodded sadly.
Giordano:
I expect he was glad to see his son's only
friend.
Sangson:
He seemed to have forgotten a lot about Edgar.
Giordano:
Well, three years is time enough to forget. I
I expect you made him feel a little miserable.
But I'm glad you saw him,
Maria thinks it
must be a relief to you.. You needed to
talk these things over, though I sometimes
wonder whether it was wise to go back over the
past like that.
(Sipping his champagne)
You look very tired, my dear boy.
Sangson:
Yes, I worked hard today. I stayed at the
shop until after seven.
Giordano:
Oh, by the way, did the assignment for Udine
Sangson:
Yes.
They ought to be there by Thursday of
next week,
I expect they'll go by aeroplane.
Giordano:
And you included my little personal message?
Sangson nodded.
Giordano:
Good.
One never knows, - I may be going to
Italy soon.
He turned and gazed at Hellebore and Maria as they
danced.
Giordano:
That's how I like to see a man dance, with


his shoulders firm and straight.
Look, he's
as light as a feather.
(Glancing at Sangson)
He's shorter than I would have thought.
looks taller on the stage, at least as I
remember him, though that was eleven years ago *
Perhaps it's due to the floppy clothes he
wears on the stage.
He doesn't look sad now,
does he?
Hellebore was laughing as he danced, and at every
fourth beat he hopped particularly high.
Sangson:
This is the first time he has left England
since the War broke out.
Giordano (gazing down at Hellebore with a smile): Then I
expect he means to enjoy himself.
As soon as the dance came to an end Hellebore and
Maria returned to the table, laughing and breathless.
Maria (to Giordano): Hadn't we better go back to the table,
if only for a few minutes?
Giordano glanced down at the table on the lower tier
where they had been sitting.
Giordano:
Not yet, my dear.
We'll have a little more
champagne, then go.
(To Hellebore) We have,
three or four friends down there.
We mustn't
neglect them altogether.
He took the bottle of champagne and filled Maria's


glass. He then offered it to Hellebore, who shook his
head.
Hellebore:
No, thank you. I'm merry enough, thank you.
Giordano chuckled and held the bottle up to the
light, squinting at it.
It was a quarter full.
Giordano:
Come, you must have another glass. We must
finish the bottle before we go back to our
own table.
Yes?
Of course!
He filled Hellebore's glass. Then they all touched
glasses and drank.
Giordano (to Haria): The next dance ought to be for Henry.
He looks so lonely sitting there.
Maria (with a tender glance at Sangson): Yes, I shall take
him down to the ballroom and whirl him round.
He looks so sad.
Sangson:
I'm only feeling a little tired.
Giordano:
He stayed at the shop until after seven this
evening.
(Glancing first at Maria, then at
Hellebore) And a little more ch ampagne would
do you both good.
You look hot, both of you.
Yes, I think so.
He beckoned to one of the waiters and ordered more
champagne.
Maria:
Mr. Finstanley has already refused it,
Giordano.
Giordano:
Oh, mere politeness!
Do you want to be


off home, then?
Maria:
No, please! - Let's make a night of it!
Giordano (triumphantly, to Hellebore and Sangson): Shall
we, then?
Maria:
We can all go back to the house together for
an early breakfast at dawn!
Giordano (to Hellebore): Does that suit you?
Hellebore (nodding): You are both very kind.
The orchestra began a slow waltz, and Maria got up.
She touched Sangson's hair lightly, putting it back from
his forehead, and together they went down into the ballroom.
A waiter brought the second bottle of champagne, and
Giordano moved to a chair at Hellebore's side. He filled
their glasses.
Hellebore:
You came to know Sangson during the War, I
believe?
Giordano:
Yes, my friend.
Has he made you feel sad?
Has he brought back the past?
Hellebore (with a shrug, staring down at the table):
has suffered too much.
It isn't right.
Giordano:
Yes, he did suffer.
I feel like a father
towards him, you know, just as you must have
felt towards Edgar. I met him first in 1916,
and we made friends very quickly.
Then I
met him again towards the end of the War after


your son's death, and he was a different young
man altogether,
helpless, quite helpless.
He said he would never go back to England,
I don't know why. I wanted to give him a
home, and I knew Maria and I could give him a
home.
So I invited him to this house of mine
in Paris.
We have no children of our own,
you see.
I felt he needed a home more than
anything else.
We gave him a couple of ro oms 9
and I found him a little work in one of our
shops.
(Watching Sangson and Maria in the
ballroom) He is so very polite, you know.
I can send him to talk trade with business
agents from all over the world, and I can
always be confident that he'll give a better
impression chan I ever could.
(With a glance
at Hellebore)
He's an educated young man.
I'm a shopkeeper.
An education counts for
a great deal these days.
Hellebore:
I like listening to him talk.
Giordano:
Yes, he can talk well.
They gazed down into the ballroom in silence.
Giordano :
He liked war, you know.
Hellebore:
Liked it?
Giordano:
Yes.
He liked the fighting.
I think he was
a good fighter.
He's lost now the War's over.


Hellebore:
Yes, he talks like a lost man.
Giordano (with a sigh): All the War meant for me was : my
separation from Maria.
We were too much in
love with each other, perhaps.
I used to
yearn to be with her until I was almost mad,
I was in the French army for three years.
lost weight.
I had skin-trouble.
I caught
malaria, and one thing after another. I'm
not a fighter.
War isn't for people like
myself., War is for young men with nothing
to lose.
Hellebore:
Was Sangson like that?
Giordano:
Well, what had he got to lose?
Hellebore nodded slowly, then glanced up at Giordano. e
Hellebore:
Did you ever meet my son?
Giordano:
No, my friend.
Maria and Sangson returned to the table before the
dance ended, and Giordano got up.
Giordano (to Maria): Now we really must go back to our
table.
(To Hellebore) For a few minutes,
would you mind?
Hellebore (rising): Not at all.
(To Maria) But we must
have another dance or two before dawn,
Maria laughed shyly.
Giordano:
The champagne is there for you to drink. /


They returned to their table, which was at the
moment empty.
Maria: (looking into the ballroom) The others are dancing.
I can see them.
Giordano:
Would you prefer the lounge?
Maria (sitting down): Oh no, my dear.
I like to watch the
dancing.
(Glancing back at Hellebore's table)
Is he as you remember him?
Giordano:
Well, of course, they have their faces painted.
He's shorter than I would have expected.
Maria:
Who is this Lorraine you mentioned?
Giordano:
His manager.
He often comes to the shop,
though I've never seen him myself.
Perhaps
you remember that fine little crucifix I
picked up last year, 1 a gold frame inset
with rubies.
He bought it and had it clipped
onto one of his rosaries.
He's a shrewd man,
I believe. He certainly knows the value of
money.
And his house is full of the most
fabulous things, - so they say in the trade.
Maria:
Is he richer than Hr. Finstanley, then?
Giordano:
But of course.
I should think Mr. Finstanley
is a good deal poorer than I am.
He gazed at Maria though tfully.
Giordano:
Yet on the whole perhaps he 's the richer' man.
He doesn't have to keep on the right side of


people to make his profits, as I do. He
doesn't have to entertain people he dislikes.
He doesn't have to serve rude customers.
Lorraine does all the scrambling for him, -
all the investing and worrying and speculating.
It must be wonderful, my dear, not to have to
think about money all the time. Imagine what
it must be like to feel the money piling up
while you walk the streets or go to rehearsal!
Maria (a little pained by this): But aren't you proud of
your work?
You chose it yourself.
Nobody
forced you into it.
Giordano:
Yes, I chose my work and I enjoy doing it.
But I have to be thinking about money all the
time.
We live very lavishly, you know. The
money doesn't come of its own accord, though
sometimes you behave as though it does. I
have to be watching the narket all the time
and exchanging this investment for that. I
have to keep an eye on the rival firms, and I
have to open up new contacts in foreign
countries.
It seems to me I never have a
moment's peace from money, even when we come
out to enjoy ourselves.
You wouldn't believe
me if I told you how much we spend on enter-


taining people, on dinner-parties and visit
to the theatre and cocktails and trips to the
country, from one end of the year to the other.
But I can tell you it gives me quite a headache
now and again.
Maria:
But Mr. Finstanley has a lot of business, too.
There must be contracts to sign,for one thing.
And don't you remember Henry telling us how
lavishly he used to live before the War, how
he used to build houses and then get tired of
them as soon as they were finished?
Well,
there are your mortgages and loans and invest-
ments.
Giordano:
Yes, but it isn't the same.
He could enter-
tain all the most influential people in Europe,
but that wouldn't help him give a better per-
formance on the stage.
He isn't obliged to
think about money all the time.
Maria:
Well, someone has to do the thinking, otherwise
there wouldn't be such a thing as trade, and
where would his food and costumes and houses
come from?
Giordano (with a smile): I agree with you, my dear.
only saying I envy him a little.
I envy him
his rowers, you see.
Maria:
Well, you've made a success of your work,


that's one thing.
Giordano:
But sometimes I do get tired of it.
I admire
a man who isn't on the make all the time.
The slow waltz came to an end, and Hellebore turned
to Sangson.
Hellebore:
This is my real welcome back to Paris.
beginning to feel among friends.
I didn't
feel among friends at the dinner party this
evening.
Most of them were tired. They had
left the theatre in the middle of rehearsals,
and most of them had gone without a bite to
eat since the early afternoon.
That was
Lorraine's doing, of course.
He wanted some-
thing dignified.
He wanted it described in
all the newspapers.
I like your friends.
They're easy to get on with.
Sangson held the champagne bottle up to the light.
Hellebore:
Empty.
Sangson (calling to one of the waiters): Deux cognacs!
Hellebore:
In the old days we used to take hansom cabs
round the West End after the show, We used
to talk and sing in each others' bedrooms
until the dawn came through.
We used to have
suppers on the stage with our make-up on.
We used to play tricks on each other during
the show.
I wonder whether it'll ever be the


same again?
While the War was on I never
went near the stage.
I had no managers and
no cronies.
I used to see a few friends now
and again, but somehow the real old-time
artistes disappeared during the War.
All I
wanted to do was to keep away from the theatre;
I didn't want to go near London.
I - felt too
sad. None of my old pals were there. No,
I didn't feel comfortable at the hotel tonight,
except with Eliza.
Perhaps when we've all
worked together again things will be like they
used to be.
A waiter brought their cognac.
They touched glasses
and drank it in one gulp.
Hellebore:
That's one for old times.
He reeled a little in his chair and gripped the
table firmly with both hands.
Hellebore : (with a loose smile) I did murder Edgar.
Sangson: (starting) Are you drunk?
Your eyes are very
bloodshot.
Hellebore: (vehemently) I nurdered him.
He stared at Sangson for a moment, then took his
hands from the table and leaned back with a smile.
Hellebore (quietly): I'm drunk.
I'n not used to all this.
I never touch it.
Sangson:
Do you feel sick?


Hellebore:
Sangson:
Do you feel you might fall?
Hellebore:
I feel dizzy, and very sleepy.
Sangson looked down at the second tier where the
Celidats were sitting.
They had now been joined by their
guests, and one of them was watching Hellebore.
Sangson:
You must sit still.
You must try and sit
still, and talk as little as possible.
Hellebore frowned and stared at the table.
swayed a little and tried to look at Sangson.
Hellebore: :
Why?
Sangson:
People are watching you.
I'll get you some
tonic water and a cachet.
(Speaking very
distinctly) But meanwhile you must try and
sit very still.
Try not to fall.
Hellebore:
Who's watching me?
Sangson:
Maria's friends.
They all know who you are
by now,
Hellebore:
There you are, I'm still a statue.
Wherever
I go they treat me like a statue.
You can
see for yourself.
It's their fault. It
isn't my fault.
I'll be alright.
(Leaning
across the table and grasping Sangson's arm)
I'll be alright.
It was that brandy. Click.
Sangson (rising): I'll get the tonic water.
Then we must
go straight back to the hotel.
You've got


to sleep.
I can take Giordano's car.
Hellebore (shaking his head very slowly): No.
I won't go
back, because I wouldn't sleep.
I'm going
to dance with that woman.
I said I was going
to dance with that woman and I'm going to.
Sangson (with a sigh): Let me get you the tonic water, then.
He went down to the second tier.
As he turned
left towards the lounge Maria called and beckoned to him.
He went to her table and bowed to the other guests.
Hellebore watched him, his eyes narrowed.
iaria said
something to Sangson, and he nodded awkwardly.
Some minutes later he returned to Hellebore's table
with a waiter.
Sangson (in Hellebore's ear): Luckily you don't look very
drunk.
The waiter put a glass of tonic water before
Hellebore and departed.
Sangson (sitting down again): Maria wants me to get her wrap.
She left it at home.
So I shall be taking
the car.
(Hesitantly) She wants you to
join their little party while I'm gone.
Will you?
Hellebore nodded and sipped the tonic water.
Sangson:
Or should I take you back to the hotel?
Hellebore:
No, I'll be alright.
It's just a turn.


Sangson:
Your eyes are so bloodshot. (Giving Hellebore
a tablet). Swallow that with the water.
won't make you sick?
Hellebore:
No, I don't feel sick.
I feel dizzy.
Sangson:
I'll wait until you're better. Then you must
go to the lavatory and smarten yourself up.
You've spilt champagne down your shirt-front,
and your hair needs combing.
When you join
Maria's party refuse the first dance or two,
until you are feeling really well.
Hellebore (watching him with a smile): You look like a
school-teacher.


Scene 2:
The sane, two hours later.
The dining-room was now deserted.
A few couples
were daneing, but most of them were sitting talking and
drinking on the seats at the side.
All the lights were
lower than before.
Sangson stood with Maria's fur wrap over his arm
looking down into the ballroom.
He stared in astonishment
at Maria and Hellebore as they danced swiftly round the
floor, faster than any of the other couples and more reck-
less. (Hellebore whirled her round and round on the same
spot (as the dance ended.) Maria fell back giddily, but
he caught her in time with a laugh.
They turned, and Maria waved to Sangson.
She came
up the staircuse, smiling at him.
Hellebore came after
her, sweating and panting.
Maria (taking the wrap):
Thank you, my dear. We've been
dancing all this time.
She kissed him lightly on the cheek.
Sangson:
Where's Giordano?
Maria:
He went back home.
Sangson:
How long ago?
Maria:
About an hour ago.
Sangson:
He must have walked, then, because I had the
car.
Maria ;
No, he took a cab.
(Taking his hand and


Squeezing it) You mustn't worry about thing
my dear.
He shrugged, and she went towards the lounge.
He drew Hellebore to one of the tables near the white arch,
and they sat down.
Sangson (in a soft voice): You've won her, then.
Hellebore :
What do you mean?
Sangson:
She has chosen you.
Hellebore shook his head with a smile.
Hellebore:
We had a dance or two.
We had a good time.
She's a lovely little dancer. That doesn't
mean anything.
Giordano went home of his
own free will.
Sangson:
She has chosen you as the father of her child.
I know her better than you do.
Hellebore looked at him thoughtfully, wiping his
brow.
Sangson:
She'll ask you about it tonight or tomorrow.
Or perhaps Giordano will.
Hellebore:
To give her a child?
Sangson:
As soon as I told her you were coming to
Faris she began asking me questions about you.
(With a smile) Well, you're a famous man,
so it'll be a kind of imnaculate conception,
which is what she's after.
Would you do it?


Hellebore (avoiding his gaze): Anybody wi th a heart would.
She's a pretty woman.
And I expect she
knows a trick or two.
Sangson:
Would you do it, then?
Hellebore:
Yes.
But I wonder what it would be like,
in cold blood like that...
Sangson:
Has she mentioned anything of the kind to you?
Hellebore:
We've been dancing.
We've hardly said
a word to each other.
Sangson:
There you are, then.
The blood wasn't cold
while you danced, was it?
Why should it be
at any other time?
A waiter came to the table and put two glass of
cognac before them.
Sangson:
Did you order this?
Hellebore:
Maria said she'd send something in.
Hellebore drank his cognac and got up.
He swayed
a little at the edge of the table, then steadied himself
against the arch.
Hellebore:
Excuse me.
Sangson:
Are you alright?
Hellebore:
Yes.Im only going for my coat and hat.
He went to the door leading out of the dining-room
on the second tier.
He turned in the half-light and waved
to Sangson, then went out.


Another dance began, and Maria returned from the
lounge.
Sangson (rising): He'll be back soon, I expect.
Maria:
Shall we dance while he's gone?
Sangson (impatiently): No, Maria.
I'm sick of this place.
I want a walk.
Come for a walk.
He took her arm and tried to bring her away from
the table.
Maria:
No, Henry!
What about Hillebore?
Sangson:
We'll come back for him.
I only want a
short walk.
But I shall be sick otherwise.
Marias
No, I'll wait here. You go, and we'll wait
for you here.
Sangson (with a sigh): Alright, then!
Maria (seeing his expression): No, I'll come, if it's a
very short walk, and if you really want me to.
Sangson:
I do.
He drew the wrap round her shoulders and they left
the club.


Scene 3:
The streets of Paris, a little later.
There were low, dark clouds, and the street-lamps
were still alight.
One side of the sky was clearer,
where the dawn was coming, and a chill wind was beginning
to blow.
The streets were deserted and quiet, apart from
a hansom cab here and there.
Sangson and Maria walked slowly down the Rue St.
Honore towards the Place Vendôme, arm in arm.
Sangson:
You sent me home for the wrap so that you
could be alone with him.
Maria:
No, I didn't.
I really wanted the wrap.
I began to feel cold between the dances.
Sangson:
Anyway, you got what you were after.
Why
can't you leave my friends alone?
We went
there for a quiet meal together.
I was
afraid you'd do this.
Maria:
But what have I done?
I got tired of
Giordano's friends.
They were all pigs,
and Hellebore is a wonderful dancer,
Sangson:
But you've chosen hin, haven't you?
Maria:
Chosen him?
Sangson:
Yes.
You've chosen him to give you a child,
haven't you?
Maria:
I don't know, I don't know.
Sangson:
You've chosen him because he has a famous


name, o the cheapest possible reason.
You
chose him immediately you saw him in the
flesh.
In fact, you were astounded to find
that he'd got flesh at all!
Maria (half stopping, in tears): That isn't true.
Why
are you so angry?
Sangson:
You've chosen hin, haven't you?
You're
going to ask him to give you a child, aren't
you? (frantically, gripping her arm) Tell
me, Maria!
Maria:
I can't answer you.
I haven't thought about
Sangson:
Well, why have you waited all this time?
You've been waiting five years, and soon
you'll be too old.
Why don't you let me do
it, Maria?
Let me give you a child, Maria!
He took her by the shoulders and tried to pull her
towards him.
They swayed together on the pavemento
Maria:
Henry!
Henry: What's the matter? For
God's sake tell me :
Sangson (his head bent forvard, sobbing and screaming):
I could do it!
I could do it, Maria!
Hellebore turned into the Champs Elysees and went
huge, deserlid aveme.
huge, deserty/
to the middle of the
su k He carried his top hat, and
avenue.
his black overcoat was open.
He lifted his feet high,


as if there were steps to mount in front of him.
stood still, swaying a little, with a frown.
porkth
lath
He reeled, then ran forward in a helpless, headlong
rush, trying to stop himself falling.
His top hat slipped
out of his hand onto the road and rolled over on its brim.
He bent down and moved towards it, his arm stretched out.
He fell forward onto his knees and crawled to the hat.
He put it on the back. of his head and slowly lifted himself
He began walking towards the Arc de Triomphe.
As he walked he closed his eyes and smiled, and
began singing at the top of his voice:
Bon soir, old thing, cheerio, chin-chin,
Na-poo, toodleoo, goodbye-ee!




Scene 1:
Hellebore's apartment at the Hôtel de la Regne
on the morning of Easter Saturday, 1920.
About fifteen
minutes to ten.
The curtains were still drawn in Hellebore's bed-
room, and he lay asleep on his bed.
He was still fully
dressed, and his overcoat was torn from the shoulder down
to the middle of his back.
He lay on his S tomach, breath-
ing very deeply.
On the floor, at the foot of the bed,
was an eiderdown.
Albert Lorraine entered the drawing room and looked
about him.
He wore a dark morning suit with a carnation
in his button-hole.
He called out "Jack!" then went
across to the bedroom.
He opened the door and gasped with
surprise when he caught sight of Hellebore in the darkness.
He quickly pulled the curtains back and sat down on the bed
at Hellebore's side.
He bent forward to have a better
look at his face.
He noticed the torn overcoat and gazed
at it with horror.
He then went into the ba throom and
returned with a tumbler of water.
He flicked the water
gently into Hellebore's eyes, and after a few moments
Hellebore started up and stared about him., almost knocking
the tumbler out of his hand.
Lorraine (in a soft voice): Shall I call the nurse?
Hellebore shook his head.
Lorraine :
Our own, I mean.


Hellebore:
No, Albert.
Lorraine gave him a towel for his face.
pulled up the eiderdown from the floor and put it round
Hellebore's shoulders.
Lorraine:
The hall porter rang me last night and told
me you'd left the hotel.
You look very
ill, Jack.
Hellebore lay back on his pillow wit th a frown and
put his hand to his head.
Hellebore:
Did the porter see me ?
Lorraine:
Yes, he saw you go out.
Hellebore (irritated): No.
Did he see me come back?
Lorraine:
You must have been very drunk.
Look
at your overcoat.
He lifted a piece of the torn overcoat which lay
under Hellebore's shoulder.
Hellebore (peering at Lorraine): Look at you, with your
flower. You look like a tallyman's ink-
bottle.
Lorraine:
Well, I had this morning planned.
But now
we shall have to postpone e
Hellebore:
Have you any tablets for my head?
Lorraine:
I want to see you in a bath, Jack, then we
mus t go to the theatre.
Postponeme ents are
complicated.
There is a great deal to be


done.
Conferences have got to be called,
and contracts prolonged, and a new show has
got to be rehearsed at short no tice.
Hellebore:
Help me down, then.
He put one foot over the side of the bed, then the
other.
He sat for a moment on the edge with his head in
his hands.
Lorraine:
A postponement of two weeks would be fair.
Let me help you to the bathroom.
Hellebore put an arm round his shoulder and togeth er
they went to the bathroom.
Lorraine:
Now you must tell me what happened.
Hellebore sat huddled at the side of the bath, and
Lorraine ran the hot water.
Hellebore:
A young fellow called.
I was just hopping
into bed.
His name was Sangson,
Have you
heard about him?
He's a friend of my son's.
(Glancing up drowsily) Do I look drunk?
Lorraine:
Your eyes are very bloodshot, and you look
paler than I've ever seen you.
I ought to
call a nurse, I really ought to.
Hellebore:
No, I shall be alright.
L orraine:
Where did you go?
Hellebore:
Where. what?
Lorraine:
Where were you off to when the porter saw you?
Hellebore:
A club called Les Anges in the Rue St.Honore.


Lorraine :
I know it.
Business people go there.
Is your young friend in comnerce, then?
Hellebore:
No, he's a jeveller's assistant.
Lorraine: :
Shall I help you in?
Hellebore shook his head and began taking off his
clothes.
When he was naked he leaned onto the side of
the bath.
He stayed there for a moment with his eyes
closed, then he got into the water.
Hellebore:
I met an Italian jeweller and his wife.
Giordano and Maria were their names.
forget their surnames.
Lorraine: (watching him closely) How long have you known
this young man?
Hellebore took a sponge and pressed some water over
his Torehead.
Hellebore:
Is there a towel handy?
Lorraine put a towel into his outstretched hand.
Lorraine:
How long have you known him?
Hellebore:
I toldyou. I saw him for the first time
last night.
I've never seen him before in
my life.
Lorraine (a little disturbed by this): But you said he
was a friend of your son's.
Hellebore:
So he was.
They were soldiers together.
Lorraine:
But I thought you meant he was a friend of
the family.


Hellebore:
What family?
Lorraine (at a loss): A friend of Jeanne's, perhaps.
But why did he coie last night?
Hellebore:
I don't know. He talked about the War.
That's all I remember.
He's a good talker.
Lorraine watched him in silence while he washed.
After a few minutes Hellebore lay back in the bath, exhausted
He closed his eyes.
Hellebore:
It's lovely here.
Lorraine (glancing at his watch): You ought to jump out now.
Hellebore:
Jump.
Listen to that.
He sat up, put his hands on the bottom of the bath
knuckles downwards and heaved himself up to a kneeling
position,
Lorraine laid the bath-mat across the floor and
went to stand in the doorway.
Hellebore drew one of the
chairs ne arer to the bath.
With one hand he clung to the
rim of the bath and wi th the other he held the chair.
lifted himself up, but as he did so the chair slipped back,
he lost his grip and fell downwards, hitting his chin on
the side of the bath.
The water splash ed across the room,
andu there was a booming noise from the bath as he struck it.
Instantly Lorraine ran forward and took him by the arm.
Hellebore clung to his shoulder and gradually pulled himself
out of the bath.
As he did so he drenched Lorraine's
jacket.
Lorraine:
Oh, my goodness, look,


He stated at his wet sleeve and went into Helle-
bore's bedroom.
With a look of distaste he took the
jacket off and laid it over the hot water pipes.
Hellebore dried himself and came into the bedrooi m
to dress.
Lorraine:
Where do they all live?
Hellebore:
Who?
Lorraine:
This young man and these jevellery people.
Hellebore: :
I've no idea.
Lorraine :
Isn't that an odd hour to call?
Hellebore :
He happened to hear about your dinner-party -
Lorraine :
Who from?
Hellebore 2
Oh, these things get around Paris.
Lorraine :
How is it the hall-porter failed to see him?
Hellebore:
Perhaps he did see him.
Lorraine :
No, he didn't.
He has ins tructions to
'phone me if you receive strange visitors.


Avemue
Aveme des/
Scene 2.
The Théatre de la Féte in the PRe desChamps
Elysées, an hour later.
Behind the dress circle of the Theatre de la Fete
a door led into a wide lounge with mirror-panelled walls.
It was customary for the artistes to use this room during
rehearsals, and among them it was known as the Crims on
Tower, because its balustrade skirted an immense dome of
stained glass over the foyer.
Lorraine and Hellebore:
sat drinking coffee by one of the windows.
Hellebore:
When am I seeing Benddict?
Lorraine:
Seeing Benedict for what?
Hellebore:
For the rehearsak,
Lorraine stared at Hellebore.
Hellebore:
Well?
Lorraine :
Which rehearsals?
Hellebore:
The rehearsals this morning,
what's the
matter with you?
The rehearsals for to-
night's performance.
Lorraine (quietly and deliberately): But I am postponing,
Jack,
I told you I was postponing.
thought we agreed.
I am postponing.
Hellebore:
You are not.
Lorraine :
I thought all our difficulties were over,
and that for once we had agreed with each
other.
Why must you open the question up
again?


Hellebore :
Beaause tonight is First Night, and we are
not postponing.
Lorraine:
Look at you, Jack, with your head in your
hands - you won't be fit for a First Night
before the end of next week.
I have every-
thing ready for a postponement.
You heard
me tell you I was pos tponing at the hotel
and you said not a word.
Why open the
question up again?
Hellebore:
I felt ill.
Now I feel better.
Lorraine :
You look, if anything, worse.
Hellebore:
That won't show under powder and a wig.
Lorraine 8
It will show in your movements.
I won't have
you falling off the wire simply to gratify
your pride.
I shall call a conference at
half-past eleven, and there'll be no perf orn-
ance tonight.
I have made up my mind.
Hellebore:
You are going to turn a couple of thousand
people away from the door tonight?
Lorraines
Oh yes, and more if you wish.
But I won't
have you throwing away your career, and also
my money.
I shall call a conference at
half-past eleven, and meanwhile I shall show
you round the new wing.
You have all the
time in the world.
I am the one who'll be busy


today.
Sit here and rest for half-an-hour
if you wish.
Or let me take you round the
new wing. o
Do whichever you want.
Hellebore (with a yawn, rubbing his eyes): I shall see
Benddict.
Lorraine:
We shall all see Benedict at half-past el even.
Shall I show you round the new wing?
Hellebore:
Show me my dressing room.
That's all I want
to see.
I want to see my paints and costumes
and the Virgin; and I want to be left alone
with them.
Call a conference if you like,
Albert, call a dozen, but we won't postpone.
Lorraine:
I have made my mind up.
Hellebore:
And I have made up mine.
They left the lounge and walked along a carpetted
gallery under the glass dome, then down the foyer staircase
to one of the entrance doors of the auditorium.
A corridor
went from the back of the pit along the whole length of the
theatre to the dressing-rooms, passing underneath the stage.
Outside the dressing-room Lorraine took Hellebore 's
arm and drew him back.
Lorraine:
Look.
I just want you to see that.
Hellebore looked up and above the framed door
saw in gilt and flourished letters the words: Le Salon
Hellebore.
Hellebore:
Was that your idea?
Lorraine:
Yes.


Hellebore:
What are you going to do now, scrub it out?
Lorraine:
No, that won't be necessary.
Hellebore:
You'd better scrub it out.
Lorraine :
Why?
Hellebore:
Because you don't think I am worthy of it.
Lorraine:
Oh, you'll be worthy of it and more in a week,
provided you are sensible.
Hellebore:
Get a man up to scrub it out, then.
Shall
we go in?
Lorraine opened the wide double doors and they
went in.
It was a long room, its ceiling high and carved:
much more a drawing-room than a dressing-room.
Two wall-
length windows faced the door, and between them stood
Hellebore's dressing-table.
On the left, behind a table,
there was a wide couch which could serve as a bed, and
beyond it a curtain drawn to conceal one corner of the ro om,
on the right there was a tapestried screen and beyond this
wardrobe furniture, a sewing table and a wicker chair.
On the walls there were ink portraits of the two Grimaldi'sg
porars
Hellebore:
All this is new.
Was it your idea again?
Lorraine:
No, this time Charpentier helped me in the
design.
We spent many hours together over
Hellebores
When I was last here I had a room fifteen
feet by ten; this is a change from that.


It must have cost you money a
Lorraine (casually): Oh, money..
Hellebore walked towards his dressing-bable but
then stopped in the middle of the room and stared before
him.
Hellebore:
Albert.
I want to be sick.
Lorraine:
You what?
Hellebore:
I want to be sick.
Lorraine:
There's a sink, then, quickly!
Lorraine ran to the corner of the room on the left
of Hellebore's dressing-table and pulled back the curtain;
behind it was a wash-basin and a mirror.
Hellebore went
to it, his hand over his mouth,
Lorraine turned away as
he vomited thickly into the basin.
He retched three or
four times, then turned both taps on.
He leaned over the
basin with his eyes_closed, and Lorraine supported his brow
with the palm of his hand.
Lorraines
Look, that's only for a quick wash.
show you the bathroom and lavatory.
He led Hellebore to the opposite side of the room
and showed him a door behind the screen and wardrobe
furniture.
Lorraine:
I expect you could use it,
Hellebore shook his head and turned back into the
room again.
Lorraine:
May I use the telephone on your table?


Hellebore (hoarsely) I didn't know I had one.
Lorraine:
I want to call the conference.
You'll be
well enough by that time, Io doubt.
Hellebore:
Go to hell with your conferenc es.
Help me
toget better.
Lorraine :
Lie down on the couch, Jack.
Don't talk.
Lie back,
Put your head back - (as Hellebore
lay down) that's right.
ly God, you look
washed right out.
I'l1 call the Virgin up.
Hellebore (with effort): No, leave her alone. I want to
get rid of this burning in my throat.
Lorraine took a white handkerchier from one of the.
drawers in the dressing-table, sprinkled Eau de Cologne
over it and took it to Hellebore; he laid it across his
brow, and Hellebore closed his eyes.
Hellebore (almost inaudibly): I'm sick to death of all this.
I want to go away.
I'm sick of the job.
Lorraine (turning swiftly): What's that?
Hellebore:
I'm sick of the job.
I want to go away.
Lorraine:
Well, exactly, so would anyone in the world,
and that's why I decided to post tpone.
Hellebore:
I want to go away for good.
To hell with
your pos tponements.
Lorraine :
I simply don't understand you.
Hellebore:
I'd like to break all these walls down, all
these thick walls.
I'd like to set fire to


then and go away for good.
Lorraine:
Would you include this room, Jack?
Hellebore:
Yes; oh, I'd include this room, I'd start
with it.
I'd smash the mirrois first mi
Lorraine (with distaste): The ones over the dressing table?
Hellebore:
Yes.
Lorraine:
Well, that would be a good beginning, they
are worth quite a little fortune in th emselves.
What else?
Hellebore:
Oh, I'd set a match to the curtains.
That
screen c
Lorraine:
I thought you'd go for that screen.
The
tapestry is one of the rarest things in this
theatre.
Hellebore:
Burn it, burn it.
I'm sick to death of it
all.
You can't keep me walled up in this
place.
I've finished with everything, and
I'm glad I've finished.
Lorraine:
I don't understand that.
Whoever wants to
keep you walled up?
That's the talk of a
sick man.
Hellebore:
I'm glad, then, glad.
Lorraine :
Glad about what?
Hellebore:
Well, it's all over.
I've been sick down
the sink, and that's the end of Hellebore.
Lorraine :
Why should that be the end of Hellebore?


Hellebore:
Why, why... Hellebore was only a dead
carcase, anyway, so good riddance.
Lorraine:
Listen.to me, Jack.
You are a sick man, 9
and you hardly know what you are saying.
I shall postpone the show for a week, and
then you'll have your First Night, and the
best one of your career.
Hellebore:
Do you think I don't mean what I say?
Lorraine:
You mean it, my dear.fellow, but tomorrow
you will mean something different. Mean-
while I shall call a conference and postpone
the show.
Hellebore:
Shall I tell you what we'll do?
We'll
cancel the show, we'll tear the contract up
this morning.
I said I've finished with
everything.
Lorraine:
What?
Hellebore raised himself and leaned forward on
his elbow, opening his eyes.
Hellebore:
There, that's what I mean.
And that's what
I say.
Lorraine (turning away): No, no.
Hellebore:
I am finished, I am not fit to go on a stage
again.
That's the bare truth of the matter.
Your instincts were right last night; I'm
not fit to go.on a stage again.
So let me


go away.
I've finished with Hellebore.
Bring the contract here and we'll tear it
up, go on.
Lorraine (awed and pale): This is a different tune, Jack.
Hellebore:
I tell you, Hellebore is finished, so see
him decently buried.
Lorraine (with compassion):
What have these people been
doing to you?
Hellebore:
What people?
Lorraine:
These jewellers and this young man of yours.
Hellebore:
Oh, I'm old enough to look after myself.
Didn't I cancel the contract out of my own
free will last night?
Lorraine :
How?
Hellebore:
I walked out of the hotel after midnight
and there wasn't a war or revolution on.
That was a breach of contract, wasn't it?
Lorraine shrugged his shoulders and pouted glumly.
Lorraine:
These are very serious words, Jack.
Hellebore:
The whole world's changed.
I can't find
a footing again...
Lorraine:
I shall postpone the show for a week, and
ehe
the /
I'll leave you to think /rest over.
It can't
be true. Those are very serious words,
Jack.
They mean the end of a career, and


I won't allow it.
Hellebore:
They are true.
Hellebore's dead, so give
him a decent burial.
Lorraine (Stupefied):
Are they true?
Hellebore:
Yes.
Lorraine:
ly poor, dear old fellow.
What a sight you
are, lying there. I could never have
predicted it.
What I said last night was
due to had nerves
Hellebore:
Bah
Lorraine:
It was due to bad nerves.
Hellebore still leaning forward on one elbow,
groped in his pocket for - something.
Hellebore:
Here, take this bloody souvenir away.
He drew Lorraine's rosary from his pocket and threw
it violently at Lorraine's feet.
It clattered against
the leg of his chair.
Lorraine:
I've seen them behave like this before.
Hellebore:
Them?
Them?
What do you mean, 1 them?
Lorraine:
The celebrities like yourself.
It's a form
of hysteria tha t comes with middl e-age.
You are forty-five, aren't you?
Hellebore:
My name is Jack Finstanley. Aren't I more
to you than them?
Lorraine :
You appal me.
Lorraine, pale and trembling, bent down and picked


up his rosary from the floor.
He then rose and walked to
the door without glancing at the couch,
Having opened
the door, he turned.
Lorraine (deliberately): Very well, I shall cancel the
contract.
He left the room and Hellebore lay back on the
couch again with a long sigh.
Lorraine went swiftly to his own office.
This was
on the floor above the dressing rooms. One of its doors
communicated with a wooden gallery running across the stage
high above it in the flies; its windows overlooked a small
park which adjoined the theatre at the rear wall, behind
the stage.
He slammed the door and went straight to his desk,
his lips pressed together and his eyes narrowed.
Charpentier rose from an armchair by one of the windows.
Charpentier: The entire theatre has been ringing you for
the last hour.
You look troubled.
Lorraine :
I have just come from Jack.
Some thing very
nasty has been going on.
Charpentier: Where is he, then?
Lorraine:
Where is Jack Finstanley?
I'll tell you
where Jack Finstanley is.
He is lying on
his backside in his dressing room: his face
is green and he has been behaving like a
madman.
Charpentier: No.


Lorraine :
He has been most dreadfully sick. Some
young adventurer came up to his room at mid-
night and the worst happened: they filled
him with drink and sent him back at five in
the morning.
Charpentier: Who?
Lorraine:
I have my suspicions, but no more. Listen
to me, Bernard: I shall need your help,
because I think this will be our busiest day
since the Armistice.
Charpentier: Why?
Lorraine:
Listen to me, Bernard: I am going to run an
entirely new show. I am cancelling tonight's
performance.
And I am tearing up Jack's
contract.
Charpentier (with a laugh): Oh, Albert, come, come !
Lorraine:
I am going to tear up his contract.
All
that will take time.
Charpentier: You can't tear up a contract signed by
Hellebore.
Any manager who tears up a
contract signed by Hellebore is a fool or a
madman: which are you?
Lorraine:
But, Bernard, I have just come from his
dressing room. For the last five minutes I
have been listening to him telling me that he


is finished for good, that he wants to leave
Paris and that he would like to burn his
dressing room and then the entire theatre down;
and I know when Jack is in earnest.
Charpentier: He got drunk, I suppose?
Lorraine:
Drunk?
I found him lying on his bed with
all his clothes on, and the shoulder of his
jacket torn. He had two hours'
chappulat Singgad, and
kssk leleers
Cortan
Charpentier:
h shrug "It
sound like the end
dolmnt
of the theatrical world to me, K said.
Lorraine:
"His eyes are bloodshot.
His hair's all over
the place.
His face is swollen, there's a
bruise the size of your finger on his chin,
his hands are trembling.
If that is the
Jack Finstanley I knew yesterday and the
Jack Finstanley I signed up a month ago then
I have nothing more to say: but it isn't.
He could. no more play Hellebore tonight
than you or I could.
And he realises that.
He sees it very clearly.
He said it very
slowly and plainly to me, I am finished,
he said, Hellebore is finished.
And he
asked me to give him a decent burial by
tearing the contract up.


Bnt Capautis Sill Xuorl lis Reul:
Charpentier: Get him down onto the stage and see how
he shapes; postpone the show until next
week e
Lorraine:
No, I can't have dealings with the fellow,
I have other shows waiting to see the
light of day.
Charpentier: It may be that he's only trying out your
loyalty, and it may be that after a little
rest he'll be himself again.
Lorraine:
And it may be that he is, as he himself
says, finished.
Charpentier: Well, it would be most amusing if you
tore up his contract and he then recovered
and fell straight into the arms of another
manager.
It would be most anusing to see
him sign up with another manager.
Lorraine:
Oh, that can't be helped.
Charpentier: Still, it would be amusing.
Lorraine went to the window and looked down at the
park in silence.
Lorraine:
Would. you back him with your last frano in
his present state?


Charpentier: Yes.
You see, Albert, if you intend to
destroy Jack you won't do it by tearing
his contract up.
Lorraine:
Why should I want to destroy him?
Charpentier: If you refuse to sign him up you are obliged
to destroy him, or at least to try.
How can you afford to let him strike
bargains with other managers in France?
You must know that quite half of all
business enterprise consists in
thwarting other people's.
You can't
destroy him by tearing his contract up.
But you can destroy him by letting him
go on the stage tonight and deserve
his cat-oalls.
In that ease he will be his own enemy;
he will destroy himself.


And that is the best you can hope
for: that he will destroy hinself.
In that case not another manager
between here and Tokyo would touch
him.
And should he recover: suppose
this First Night were his best?
Who would be the gainer then?


Lorraine :
I can't forget those bloodshot eyes.
Charpentier: Send him a message that Benédict is waiting
for him on the stage.
Lorraine:
No, I must think about it.
Charpentier: Well, the time is already sixteen minutes
past eleven.
Lorraine:
And I already feel worn out.
Francine Berger, dressed in a white surgical overall,
knocked on the door of Hellebore's dressing room and walked
She drew back the moment she saw him.
One of his
arms hung down at the side of the couch, his eyes were
closed and his mouth open; across his chin was a dark blue
bruise.
She closed the door and went to him; she knelt
and listened to his breathing.
Then she pulled him by both
armpits further onto the couch so that he would lie more
securely.
He gasped and shook his head - limply as she
moved him,
Hellebore:
What's the matter?
Francine:
You are in your dressing room.
Hellebore:
I know.
What's the matter with you, I mean?
What do you want to move me for?
Francine :
I thought you looked uncomfortable.
When I
came in I thought there had been a tragedy.
I thought someone had killed you,
May I get
something to cool your head?
You look so ill.


She went to the wash-basin and made up a strip of
wet flannel.
Francine:
Tell me what happened.
Hellebore:
I think I was struck last night, but I'm not
sure what happened.
I was sick a little while
ago, so I feel better than I did.
Francine:
What about the bruise on your chin?
You must
have had an accident.
Hellebore:
I hit it on the side of the bath this morning S
This is an unlucky day.
Francine:
Oh, don't say that.
Remember tonight.
She laid the strip of cold wet flannel across his
brow.
Francine:
I have been wait ting in my room since ten
o'clock,
Everyone was looking for Lorraine. .
Has he seen you?
Hellebore:
Oh, yes, we've seen each other.
We've
certainly seen each other.
Francine:
I cannot remember you drunk at the hotel last
night.
Hellebore:
Someone called on me shortly before mid-
night.
We went out together.
Francine :
This was a friend of yours, I suppose?
She took from one of her pockets a bottle of smelling
salts and held it under his nose.


Hellebore:
No, a stranger.
Francine:
What was his name?
Hellebore:
Sangson.
She became quite still and stared at him in silence.
She then replaced the smelling salts in her pocket and rose,
Francine:
What are we to do, then?
It is so odd, you
lying there at this time.
You are usually
up on the stage.
Hellebore :
I shall be going up soon.
I want you to leave
me here to rest a little.
Just leave me a
little and I shall give you a ring when I'm
ready.
Francine:
Shall I draw the curtains?
Will that help?
Hellebore:
Yes.
Francine:
You must not get drunk on important occasi ons *
She took the wet flannel from his forehead and wrung
it out in the basin.
She then drew the curtains across
both windows and left the room.
Hellebore slept again, then stirred and looked about
him.
The room was in half darkness.
There was not a
sound from the stage or the other dressing-rooms.
He pushed himself lower down the couch so that his
head would lie at the same level as his body. He lay
absolutely straight, with his arms firmly at his side:
he began breathing deeply and regularly, expanding his
chest to the utmost each tine. He continued this exercise


for some minutes. Then he turned himself to a position at
right angles with the length of the couch, so that only his
trunk lay across it, while the calfs of his legs on one
side and his head on the other were unsupported.
He raised
his arms and drew them in a circle over his head so that
they touched the floor under him palm downwards; then
gradually he began lowering his head and shoulders to bring
them nearer the floor. At the same time he strained
upwards with his hips and thighs.
He trembled, he began
to sweat, but gradually his legs came up.
When they were
clear of the couch he swung himself up into a vertical
hand-stand.
But the instant he was there, balanced on his
head and the palms of his hands, a pain seemed to strike
his middle, and he flung his legs down to find a sitting
position.
As his right leg descended it caught the side
of his dressing table, and a glass jar fell and smashed
on the floor.
He went to the dressing table and sat down before
the mirrors.
He leaned close to the mirrors in the half
darkness and peered hard into them.
He dabbed rose-water
on his temples and along his upper lip.
He widened first
one eye and then the other by holding back the lids.
took a pair of nail scissors from the table and carefully
cut the hairs in. his nose, drawing his upper lip down over
his teeth.
He rubbed cold cream into the bruise on his
chin, and combed his hair.
He then went behind the screen;


from the chest of drawers he took a silk blouse, a pair cf
cloth trousers secured with elastic at the ankle, and a
pair of slippers.
He changed into these and left the room.
Eliza Manning entered Lorraine's office just as
Charpentier rose from his chair.
Eliza:
Hullo, what's the matter with everyone ?
Benedict has been down on the stage for the
last hour.
Charpentier: Albert will tell you everything.
I'm off
to see Jack.
Charpentier left the room. Eliza Manning went
across to Lorraine and kissed him lightly on the forehead.
Eliza:
Well, what's the matter?
You look nervous
again.
Lorraine (averting his gaze): Oh, Jack's been playing the
fool. But I refuse to talk about it now.
Sit down.
He indicated a chair next to his own.
Lorraine:
We had a little disagreement, and I want to
forget about it.
I promised to see you at
ten o'clock, my treasure, and I wasn't here.
That was due to Jack.
I am sorry. Let me
kiss your hand,
He drew her hand across the arm of his chair,


smiled at her sadly and gently kissed it.
Lorraine:
You looked pert and handsome last night.
I would have Eiselheim on permanent contract
if I could, just to keep you in Paris.. .Did
I disgust you by talking about death?
Eliza:
You must never worry about what I think.
Lorraine:
Do I disgust you?
Eliza:
No, my dear.
He looked at her for a few moments, then sighed.
Lorraine :
You understand my faith in Michela don't you?
Eliza:
Yes.
Lorraine:
You don't think it's laughable?
Eliza:
No, Albert.
Lorraine:
Well, I wrote to him about that very question
of death some weeks ago.
Would you like to
see what he wrote back?
I've never shown
you one of his letters.
Would you like to
see it?
He opened one of the drawers in his desk and took
from it a sheaf of papers secured by a clip onto an oblong
piece of three-ply wood.
All these papers were numbered,
beginning with number one at the top.
On the wooden board
itself there was a subject-indez.
He pushed back the
sheaf of papers and ran his fingers down this index until
he found under the letter D the word Death, No. 57.


He turned to No. 57 of the
papers and withdrew it from
the sheaf. He handed it to Eliza,
Eliza:
How careful you are with your things.
Fancy keeping an index.
Lorraine:
Is that foolish?
Eliza:
No, it's clever.
She read the letter while Lorraine looked over her
shoulder:
"How miserable a life everlasting on earth would
be. Death is not your melancholic thoughts about
It is not drab, empty, dark, loathsome.
It is peace.
It is the door by which you so out. 6
Try to casto away these memories of funerals,
thpse devils of the mind: they have to do only
with the living death, with the hell that is inside
us now, not with the real death, that is everlast-
ing peace.
Every melancholic thought you have
is a temptation from the devil, and you mus t treat
it as such.
Do not pity yourself.
Be heartless
to yourself, and in this you will be heartless to
the devil.
Self-pity is a pleasure indulged most
by melancholic people: it is their sin and shame,
and it is no more forgivable than the most heinous
crime.
In Jesus Christ,
Father Michelon. #


Hellebore entered the pit by a door at the side
of the stalls.
Grey dust sheets covered all the seats.
The curtain was, up and there were noises of hammering and
shouting in the wings.
Only a dim blue light came from
the stage,
Subdued red stars were alight in the domed
ceiling of the auditorium, twenty or thirty in number,
and from the centre of this dome hung a huge silver
chandelier.
In the pit itself, where Hellebore stood,
the air was hot, but now and then a swift cold wind blew
down from the wings. uts There were only cables, ropes,
ladders and chairs on the stage, and no backcloth, so that
the dark brick wall behind it was visible.
Someone in the wings shouted "Voila!" and two
powerful arc-lamps were switched on.
Hellebore turned
away, for the moment blinded.
He watched Benedict Amurrat
walk across the stage, then he went up the centre gangway
to the back of the pit.
He pushed open one of the doors
marked SORTIE and peeped into the wide carpetted foyer;
this was the same door through which Lorraine had led him
on their way from the Crimson Tower to the dressing room.
Someone passed across the foyer outside: Hellebore quickly.
took his hand from the door and returned down the gangway.
He stood behind the conductors' rostrum and waited.
The
arc-lamps were switched down and the auditorium was once
more in darkness


Nidok came into the foyer from the street.
wore a black overcoat with a fur collar.
He was a tall,
slim man, with a dark moustache and watchful eyes.
stood still in the foyer for a moment, listening.
There
were footsteps along one of the corridors above, and they
were coming nearer the foyer.
He walked swiftly behind
one of the pillars near the entrance and waited.
The
footsteps died away.
He walked out into the foyer again,
listened, then entered the dark auditorium.
Francine Berger returned to Hellebore's dressing-
room and after glancing at the couch pulled the curtains
back.
She immediately caught sight of the smashed glass
and powder at the foot of his dressing-table.
She paused
over it with a frown, then went to the couch and tidied the
cover.
She stood listening for a moment; then she went
to the door, opened it, took the key from the outside,
closed the door again and locked it.
She went straight to
the dressing-table and sat down before his mirrors.
She
pulled out all the drawers of this table one by one, and
she scrutinised closely every article and scrap of paper
within them.
She replaced the things with a sigh and ppened the
door again.
She then went behind the screen and began
laying out Hellebore's costumes one by one.


Hellebore put one hand on the conductor's rostrum
to support himself and closed his eyes.
Eliza:
.death soon enough!
Hellebore: (starting back) Eliza!
Eliza:
It's Jack!
Lorraine (Behind her in the darkness): Jack?
Eliza:
What on earth are you standing here for?
Lorraine:
Ah, so you got my message.
We've just come
down from the office.
Hellebore:
What message?
Lorraine:
To say that Benedict was witing 9
on the stage
for you,
Bernard went down to tell you.
Hellebore:
No, I never had it.
Lorraine :
Then you got into tights - ? (Peering) Those
e are tights, aren't they?
Hellebore:
Yes, I'm in tights.
Lorraine:
Well, I've never known such behaviour.
First
you will never go on the stage again and th en
you jump into a pair of tights.
Hellebore:
Wait and see, perhaps I am finished.
Lorraine:
What were you doing,
trying me out?
Hellebore:
No a
I spoke my mind.
Lorraine:
But you have changed it now.
Hellebore:
No, I haven't.
Lorraine:
Why are you in tights, then?


Hellebore:
Out of habit.
Lorraine (scoffingly): Habit...
Eliza:
What has been the trouble, Jack?
Albert
won't tell me.
Hellebore:
Oh, I was drunk last night.
Eliza:
What, in the lounge during the party?
Hellebore :
No, afterwards.
Eliza:
Well, that isn't a crime, Alberty is it?
Lorraine :
Ah, wait until you see his face.
That is.
He went off with a bunch of ne'er-do-wells.
They released him at five o'clock this morning,
Hellebore:
Released...
Eliza:
Stop biting at each other.
Hellebcre:
Take him for a walk, Eliza.
Make him say
his beads.
Just as Francine Berger laid Hellebore's sequin
suit across the table Charpentier entered.
He glanced at
the couch.
Francine (turning): I suppose you are looking for Jack?
Charpentier: Yes, and the bird appears to have flown.
Francine:
He must have gone up to the stage, but God
knows what he has been doing with himself.
Charpentier: Have you seen him, then?
Francine:
Yes, and he needs looking after.
He is
really ill.


Charpentier: Oh, he was only a little drunk last night.
Francine:z
I came back just now and found one of his
powder-jars on the floor.
Charpentier: Broken, you mean? How?
Francine:
Perhaps he fell against the table.
That
corner smells of vomit.
What chance will he
stand this evening?
Charpentier: Only he himself knows,
fraueine
Hirginie went behind the screen to her sewing table.
Charpentier: Ah, so these are the legendary accoutrements!
He approached the table where Hellebore's costumes
lay.
Charpentier: Let me touch them.
May I?
Francine (from behind the screen): By all means.
Charpentier: (lifting a pierrot's dress with awe) It is
like touching anci ent parchments.
I can
already see them as museum exhibits.
remember these pom-poms and neck-frill wis what
will he use this pierrot's dress for, Francine?
Francine:
He always used it for his entrance, but I
don't know what he means to do with it tonight.
Charpentier: Yes, I remember those sudden entranc es in
white.
Francine:
Onto an empty stage.
Charpentier: Yes.


Francine (joining him): Haven 't you seen his stuff before?
Charpentier: From the pit, yes, but never backs stage, to
touch with my own fingers.
When does he
wear this sequin jacket?
Remind me *
Francine:
I don't think he used it for his last two
shows in Paris, but before then he did his
trapeze work in it.
Charpentier: It used to make those flashes, - of course.
And the big shoes - I remember them well.
(Taking one of them up) It must be two feet
long?
Francine:
Mrowtnactsnyrongthavrarnrelh
Yes.
pactolrpssMtuleatletyabdAotadot A All that
part (pointing out the toe) is very lightly
made a so that it can flap up and down.
makes a smacking noise when he walks.
Charpentier: And where are the removable tails?
Francine:
Here, look.
She brought up the tails of a morning jacket from
under the sequin suits then the jacket itself
like a
Spuisef
Apanith jacket - onto which the tails clipped.
Charpentier: Yes, yes, I remember that clearly.
I remem-
ber him tumbling over and over.
Francine:
Feel for the little water-tank.
Can you
feel it?


She handed him a pair of black trousers, and he
felt in the right hand pocket.
Charpentier: Yes, I can feel it.
Those are his tears?
Francine:
Yes.
Charpentier: And I can renember the outsize check suit.
He used it for the shooting parties.
But no
gun.
No gun this year?
Francine:
Perhaps he won't use it this season.
Charpentier: And why the bowler-hat and this horse-whip?
He lifted up first a tiny bowler-hat, no more than
six inches wide, and then a long horse-whip of the type
used in circuses.
Francine:
I have never seen them before.
But th ere
they were, among his other costumes.
It is
something new, I dare say.
Charpentier: But I know what these are for.
Don't you?
He took from a deep box on the table two or three
white china eggs.
Francine (with a nod): So does Eiselheim, I fear.
Charpentier: Yes, there may be a little trouble about that.
Where are the kerchiefs, the top-hat and the
other incriminating articles?
Francine:
In the cupboard.
I dare not put them out
on the table lest Eiselheim or Helen should
come in.


Charpentier: Eliza would love the idea, of course.
Francine:
Oh, Eliza - she is disloyal.
Charpentier: Do you think so? (Replacing the china eggs
slowly, then going towards the door) Your
English is remarkably fluent now.
Where did
you learn it?
Francine:
That is my secret.
Charpenti ier: You are a relentless woman... Adieu.
The chorus of fifteen girls filed onto the stage,
and Jaques, the dancing master, was behind them.
He trotted
nimbly downstage and stood with his back to the footlights:
he was a small man, quick and loud-voiced.
He made a
peremptory signal with his hand, and his girls moved quickly
into line before him.
He told them in French, pronouncing
his words slowly and clearly, to keep their heads up, th eir
backs straight and their eyes level.
He told th em to keep
their eyes fixed on the lowest part visible to them of the
and to smile within as well as
press dircle,
without, not
mechanically.
Lorraine was standing with Eliza by one of the are-
lamps in the wings, while Hellebore was still behind the
conductor's rostrum and visible from the stage.
Jaques
continuaaly glanced obsequiously to his right, at Lorraine,
then to his rear, at Hellebore; as he talked he made secret
little signs to his chorus e his eyebrows raised urgently


so that they should impress this special audience.
The dance began and Jaques clapped his hands to
the rhythm of the piano. He went among the girls as they
danced; he pressed one girl's head further down as she
lag
bent forward, and lifted higher another girl's hed as she
danced on one foot.
Continually throughout the dance he
cried out, to the rhythm of the music: "Heads up, backs
straight, eyes level"; a girl glanced down at the floor or
the footlights, he ran forward and scolded her.
During the dance Bénédict Amurrat entered the stage,
peered down into the pit, Baw Hellebore and then descended.
Hellebore walked along the gangway to meet him and they
shook hands.
Nidok watched Eliza from the other side of the stage 9
then walked behind the chorus to where she stood with
Lorraine.
As he passed her he turned shyly to speak, after
the briofest smile at Lorraine.
Nidok:
Do you happen to know where Helen is?
Eliza (rudely): Don't you? Surely you know?
He immediately drew back in surprise; he looked
at her appalled for a moment, then smiled.
Nidok:
I am afraid I do not.
He bowed slightly to them both and left the stage.
Lorraine put his arm in Eliza's and drew her closer to him.
Lorraine:
Now, Eliza, now.


Eliza:
Now what?
Lorraine: :
You are so rude to him, my dear.
Eliza:
I can't hear a thing with this piano!
Lorraine (in her ear): Why are you so rude to Eiselheim?
He hasn't the right nature to deal with your
rudeness.
Why do you do it?
Eliza:
Well, why do you quarrel with Jack?
Lorraine:
Yes, I suppose we all have our reasons.
Eliza:
What has been the trouble between you?
still want to know, and I shall worry you
until you tell me.
Lorraine:
There are always disagreements in the first
week, Eliza.
They are a form of First Night
nerves.
They help to brace one up -
Eliza:
Tell me the truth.
(Fixing her eyes on him)
Have you been talking to him about postpone-
ment again this morning?
Lorraine (uncomfortably):
Not yet.
Eliza:
Have you?
Lorraine :
We talked about cancelling his contract, you
see.
Eliza:
Cancelling? You have both gone mad.
Lorraine: :
But he is in no fit state to give a perform-
ance today Or even tomorrow.
You saw his
face yourself, didn't you, when the lights
came on again?


Eliza:
Then I can't understand why the rehearsals
are going on. Look at the time, it's already
half-past eleven.
You should be at work now
if you want to postpone.
Lorraine:
We shall have to see how he goes this morning.
Eliza:
By the time you have discussed that it will be
too late to do anything.
(Shaking Lorraine e's
What do you intend to do?
Lorraine (passively):
I don't know, I simply don't know.
(Kissing her lightly on the temple) I must
leave you now.
Lorraine went to the very back of the stage and
climbed the steep wooden stairs which led to his gallery
in the flies: he: leaned over the rail of the gallery and
waved to Eliza far below, then he turned and entered his
office.
He was about to go to his desk when he heard
someone knock on the door which communicated wi th the
corridor in the new wing.
He opened it and saw Jean Duloi-
Bordeau.
He did not invite Duloi-Bordeau into the office
but walked into the corridor and closed the door behind
him.
Jean Duloi-Bordeau:
I tried to see you alone all day
yesterday.
The kroupe's tired, Albert,
and we would like to know whether you could
drop us out of the next show, when Jack goes


to Spain.
will only be for a fortnight,
and we should be fresher for it.
Lorraine smiled and patted Duloi-Bordeau's shoulder.
Lorraine:
The Reason will be finished in a couple of
months.
Duloi-Bordeau:
But we nust have a rest.
We are tired.
Lorraine &
Listen, mry dear fellow, I an not your family
doctor, I am your manager.
If you want to be
somebody in the theatre you must be prepared
to fight out your problems alone. I am alone,
Jack is alone, Eiselheim is alone, you are
alone w and the Théatre de la Fête would
collapse in a ruin tomorrow if we all tried
to lean on each other's shoulders.
If you
want to drop out of the contract, come and
tell me so, but that will be your last chance
to sign up with me, or indeed with any manager
of ny standing in France or England.
I told
you at the beginning didn't I?- how horrible
success can be.
Duloi-Bordeau: - My sister is a sick woman.
She has to go
on every night with that ulcer of hers...
Lorraine (with a gentle shrug): I am in love with a young
lady, Jean, and that young lady refuses to
take me as a husband.
What will you do about


that? What could you do about that? And
the audience doesn't care one way or the other.
He gazed into Duloi-Bordeau's eyes, then returned
to his office and closed the door, while Duloi-Bordeau
renained standing in the corridor.
Eliza and Charpentier net in the corridor not far
from Hellebore's dressing room, on the ground floor of the
new wing,
Charpentier: Have you seen Jack, my dear?
Eliza:
Yes, I saw him standing in the stalls just now.
What has been the trouble, 1 you must tell me,
Bernard.
Charpentier: All I know is what Albert told me, that Jack
was drunk last night and sick this morning.
He suspects a plot, an attempt at blackmail or
larcency or some such thing, but then he
usually does the day before an opening.
Eliza:
What was this about cancelling the show?
Charpentier: Cancelling the contract, dearest, not just the
show. That was Albert at the end of his
patience.
I pleaded for Jack, and he agreed
to give him a few hours' grace.
Eliza:
But how can you RW
cancel a contract just before
the tabs are due to go up?
Charpentier: Well, of course, Albert is quite helpless.


So you have seen Jack: how does he look?
Eliza:
Dreadful, the poor dear.
His face has swollen
in all the wrong places.
Charpentier: I've just come from his dressing-room. He
fell onto his table and smashed a glass jar
while the Virgin was away.
Eliza:
Has she been mursing him, then?
Charpentier: She has been trying, but he evades her.
Eliza:
Who wouldn't?
Charpentier: Exactly.
Eliza:
The first thing Albert talked about in the
office this morning was Michelon.
He showed
me one of his letters on death.
Did you
know that Albert keeps all those letters
clipped together dnto a board, with a neat
index of all the subjectk ?
Charpent ier: No, he rarely mentions Michelon to me.
Eliza:
I was astonished; it showed me another side
of his character altogether.
Charpentier: (eith a chuckle) What Albert will never
confess to Michelon is that he finds doing
good tedious, and evil both exciting and
lucrative.
Benédict Amurrat pulled back the grey dust-sheet
from the first row of seats in the stalls, and with Helle-


-bore he sat down.
While Hellebore talked Amurrat made
notes in a long green file, and when the dancing of the
chorus was over they went up to the stage. Pwo scene-
the
Jich had been used
the chms
shifters wheeled ene piano loif the stage ant another iu
ayl
tuthur upifage, ro make wyn
austkor me, a Maushache
S em the winger this they almed with a chalk-mark made
graud Piauo with tho paint vanish wasked aud feaking, the whoneh
on the boards by Amurrat and the stage manager. Hellebore
lesp encked aud buud up with vope and rougp, te lid
played a few casual notes, He touched a lever at the side
uulo - deveral parts xo katnie Ruug: akr ues tta
oft the piano and the keyboard lid fell with a
stuug Whee ugred Tke a wwber J plauks
ked
nodded to the
DARELAAE
scene-shifters and they once more wheeled it
rofethes
aud tte
yella urh uge. Tues the revonifcn
into the wings. Emuseta to Amurrat.
aligned .
Hellebore:
I forgot to ask the Virgin for my bowler hat.
Amurrat:
Look out a moment.
He drew Hellebore by the sleeve further upstage,
and they both looked up as a trapeze descended slowly from
the flies at the point where Hellebore had been stan ding.
When the lowest bar was at a level with Hellebore's middle
it stopped.
He poised hinself and made a leap forward onto
it, so that he lay across its bar as if he had fallen there.
He nodded to Amurrat, and Amurrat waved his hand at the
operator in the flies: the trapeze promptly ascended again
with Hellebore lying across it, 1 slumped forward.
But
suddenly he was no longer firm,
He yelled out and the
trapeze stopped just in time, nine feet above the boards,
to prevent him falling from it head first.
The trapeze
returned to the stage and he jumped off, perspiring and
shivering.
Amurrat patted him on the shoulder, and the


operator in the flies shouted down: "Qu'y a-t-il?"
Hellebore:
That would have been a nice fall.
Let me
try again.
I'll have it still this time.
Amurrat shouted up Hellebore's instructions in
French to the flies, and Hellebore onc e more jumped forward
onto the trapeze.
He sat himself firmly on the cross-bar,
turning this way and that to make sure of his balance.
He nodded to Amurrat, and Amurrat shouted up: "Vas-y!"
The trapeze went swiftly up behind the prosdenium arch
with Hellebore secure on it: then it returned to the stage
and he jumped off with a smile.
Fraueme
Francine
In the wings Virginte handed the stage manager a
tiny bowler-hat, then departed.
He brought it onto the
stage and attached it to a scarcely visible thread which
had been lowered from the flies.
The producer made a signal
to someone on the wooden gallery above and the bowler-hat
swung into the air: he pointed to the right and it swung
to the right, then to the left and it swung to the left,
upwards and it soared upwards, to the boards and it came to
rest.
He consulted with Hellebore and then mounted the
steps up to the wooden. gallery. He called down to Hellebore
when he was ready.
Hellebore stood a few paces from the
bowler-hat.
He contemplated it and then approached it
stealthily, and immediately it moved away from him, as if of
its own accord.
He tried to grasp it, but immediately it


swung upwards and away from him.
It came to rest and
again he plunged forward and made as if to grab it.
Amurrat operated the thread from one side to the other,
and with quickening impatience Hellebore chased it across
and around the stage.
Then he held up his hand and the
hat came to a halt: it was pulled back into the flies and,
Hellebore, panting heavily, found a small arm-chair in the
wings under the electrical switchboard.
While be sat there the producer and the stage
manager supervised the erection on the stage of a taut steel
"wire nine or ten feet from the ground, supported between
steel stays on either side of the stage and out of view to
the auditorium,
Each stay had a ladder, and at the top of
these ladders were little square platforms leading onto the
tu wwe
wire. If When it had been tightened sufficiently by the
aue
stagehands Hellebore mounted the lacderson-the rigat-hand-
side and then, Standing on the platform,fbogan chalking the
phan
soles of his slippers. He/leaned back against the platform-
rest for a moment and held his head as though it hurt hing,
Cut Som
phem/he stepped forward and slid his right foot along the
wire,
Without hesitating he walked quickly onto the wire
reached
and with tiny steps attained the other side of the stage.
There he jumped straight down from the platform.
murmured to Amurrat: "Too looses", and Amurrat ins tructed
two of the stagehands to tighten the wire further.


Tacle.
Amurrat:
You're trembling, L Is that alright?
Hellebore:
Well, it will be.
Ouce las
Taistine he mounted the platiorm Gn the left hané
Lnd
Agau
side,
Ageinhe slid his right foot onto the wire.and again
tonard tta SEN sde S 7ta sTage naip ad
he walked swiftly along
But this time he stopped in
la lliag Suusotila th eacl d'mt
the middle, poised himself and jumped directly upwards with
his arms outstretched. - He landed back on the wire with his
feet splayed outwards, so that the wire went across his
insteps. Several times he repeated this, his hands on his
hips, each time jumping higher, testing the wire for tautness
Then he leapt from the wire, and the stagehands began dis-
mantling the stays.
A garlanded staircase, ending in a vertical drop
at the highest step, was next wheeled onto the stage.
Its.
exact place was decided between Hellebore and Amurrat.
Hellebore ran quickly up and down it.
He went to the top
and made a jumping somersault backwards to land upright
on the fourth step down.
While it was being wheeled backstage again he
performed two or three cartwheels near the footlights,
looked at the palms of his hands, rubbed his calf-muscles
and, with his hands on his hips, took deep and long breaths.
The piano was now wheeled back onto the left-hand side of
the stage, and the producer called hii over.
Hellebore:
I shall want ten seconds.
Amurrat took out a stop-watch.
Hellebore stood


in front of the piano and at a signal from Amurrat bent
his trunk forward, hit the keys with the palms of both hands
to make a hideous discordance, then began playing wildly
and furiously snatches of several tunes. At the tenth
second Amurrat raised his hand and Hellebore ceased playing.
Froducer:
Ten seconds. Bang.
Good.
Two sceneshifters brought a small box from the
wings with a wire attached to it.
This they inserted under
the ledge of the piano above the keyboard, then they ran its
wire along the ledge, down a leg of the piano and thus out
of sight to a detonator mechanism operated in the wings.
Hellebore and Amrrat walked across the other side of the
stage.
An electrician in the wings pressed a detonator
button and instantly there was a loud report and a cloud of
white smoke burst from the key-board and enveloped the piano,
rolling and turning across the stage.
The producér junped
down into the pit and whon the piano was once more visible
to him he pressed his stop-watch.
Amurrat:
That was twenty.
Hellebore:
Ample, ample.
We'll try it.
An electrician dismantled the burnt box from under
the piano ledge and inserted a new one *
Again Hellebore
went to the piano and again at a sign from Amurrat he began
playing wildly.
At the tenth second Amurrat nodded to an
electrician in the wings, and again there waa a loud report:


the piano and Hellebore were enveloped in the white smoke,
and his playing ceased abruptly.
Out of sight from the
auditorium he jumped quickly to the back of the piano near
the wings and went through several actions in mine: he
went through the actions of taking off his shoes, his
trousers and his jacket, then of receiving from a stage-hand
in the wings another jacket and pair of trousers, then of
tugging something from his right temple a all in the course
of a few seconds.
Now he reeled and stumbled across the
stage through the smoke-cloud until he was once more in view
from the auditorium: the moment he saw Amurrat in the pit
below he ceased miming, and Amurrat pressed his stop-watch
again.
Amurrat:
You had ten seconds to spare.
So there
should be no trouble about that.
Hellebore:
It's the trousers will be the trouble.
Amurrat:
Perhaps you. could leave the others on after
all.
Hellebore:
I must have the torn ones.
Nidok went to one of the windows in Lorraine's office
and gazed down at the park, quite still.
Lorraine:
Are you sure?
Nidok:
Quite sure.
There are very seldom misunder-
standings between us,
She has a headstrong
nature, but I accept it.


Lorraine:
I was thinking, you see, of asking her to
take some permanent work in this theatre.
Nidok:
Yes, but she isn't unhappy with me. You
ast allow for her temperament: suddenly she
will turn on someone, - then it is all over.
Believe me. I have known her many years.
Lorraine:
Well, she did talk last night as if she were
a little discontented.
Nidok: E
But do you think it is safe to judge any
woman by her words?
Lorraine:
She is usually sincere with me.
Nidok:
Try, then.
Ask her to take some permanent
work here.
But I don't think she will hear
of it.
Lorraine:
Would you be willing to let her go if she did
agree?
Nidok:
Yes, certainly.
But I know she won't hear of
(Lowering his gaze) Of course, I do
understand your concern for Eliza.
I am not
trying to interfere with that.
Lorraine:
Of course not.
They said no more to each other for some time.
Then Nidok turned from the window and faced Lorraine.
Nidok (secretively):
How is Mr. Finstanley this morning?
Lorraine looked down quickly and blinked, with


Nidok's dark, narrow eyes upon him.
Lorraine:
We must give him time to find his feet again,
you know.
Nidok:
I saw hin slip on the trapeze this morning.
I thought that was unusual.
There was a knock on the door and Charpentier enter-
Charpentier: Jack has been rehearsing for the last half-
hour.
Good morning, Heinrich.
Nidok (without a smile): Good morning, Mr. Charpenti er.
Lorraine (watching Nidok as he rose): We'll go down togethei
then, and have a look at him.
The conductor played several dances on the piano
and during each of them Hellebore danced a few steps so
that between them they could determine the speed at which
the music should be taken.
The conductor marked his score
according to Hellebore's ins tructions.
Nidok left Lorraine and Charpentier in the corridor:
they walked together down to the stage and crossed it while
Hellebore was leaning over the conductor's shoulder to look
at a seore.
They found Amurrat with an electrician in the
wings, and all three descended to the first row of the stall:
Lorraine:
I heard he slipped on the trapeze.
Amurrat:
Oh, that was nothing to speak of.
But he
does seem to be trembling a great deal this


morning.
Lorraine (tetchily): How is everything going to be co-or-
dinated at such short notice?
What are the
chances of an utter fiasco tonight?
Amurrat (with surprise): Well, only Jack is under-rehearsed,
everything else is all right.
Lorraine: :
Only Jack!
Only the heart and purpos e of
the entire show!
Amurrat:
You misunderstand me *
I meant that every-
thing in the show apart from Jack was well
rehearsed and co-ordinated, and that as for
Jack he. 1 could be depended on to look after
eHE:
himself.
Lorraine :
Do you think so?
Amurrat (impationuly):
Bernard, what is the matter with
our manager this morning?
Charpentier: First Night nerves, my dear chap. : He hears
your words but not your meaning.
Lorraine:
All I am asking is whether anybody, anybody
in the world, can expect to give a perform-
ance on half-a-day's rehearsal which looks to
the audience neither patched-up nor improvised
Remember this, Benédict: that Jack hasn't
seen a theatre this size for five years.
Amurrat (perplezed): Of course, that is a consideration.


but a consideration for you, not for me.
You. sign the people up, I don't.
And you
yourself laid this plan before me a month.ago.
You called me into your office and told me
that everything else in the show must be
prepared in such a way that. Jack could slip
into it with perfect ease on the very day of
the opening performance. Do you deny it?
Do you deny that what you are witnessing this
morning is the unfolding of your own plan as
you laid it before me a month ago?
Lorraine:
I am denying nothing, and I am not apportion-
ing blame. - I am asking a question.
What
are the chances of a fiasco tonight?
Amurrat:
And all I can say is what I have said, that
the show apart from Jack is thoroughly co-or-
dinated and rehearsed.
Its success now rests
with one man, and that man is Jack,
I know
my tasks, the stage manager knows his, the
conductor knows his, and so do the electricians
and the stagehands.
The chorus dances better
than it has ever done before; Nidok is in
fine fettle; the Duloi-Bordeau's have re-
hearsed until now they can barely stand up.
But for Hellebore I cannot vouch: I can only


vouch for my own faith in him and my own qui.
private expectations.
Everything has been
prepared for him, and the success of the show
is now between himself and the gods.
Perhaps
he is under-rehearsed, perhaps not: but only
he is the judge of that.
Such men defy
prediction.
For my part I can do no more
than what I have done: from now on our eyes
are on him alone.
What happens in this
theatre tonight only he can decide.
From
beginning to end he is his own master.
All
I can do is to prepare the way for him and
give him help when he asks for it.
Lorraine:
Has he been on the wire yet?
Amurrat:
Yes, about twenty minutes ago.
Lorraine:
He didn't slip - he only slipped on the
trapeze, I understand?
Amurrat:
On the wire he was perfectly steady, though,
as I say, he has been trembling rather strange-
ly this morning.
But try as you may you won't
be able to predict his performance tonight
from his rehearsals this morning: it can
never be ione. All you have to go on are
your own premonitions.
Charpentier: For the Lord's sake don't leave him alone with
those, Benedict:
They are notoriously dismal.


A voice in the wings called out for Amurrat and
he returned to the stage.
Lorraine and Charpentier walked
slowly up the centre gangway.
Charpentier: Are you persuaded yet that he isn't after all
finished?
Lorraine:
Almost, yes, but I find it difficult to forget
his own words.
You know I shall blame you
if anything goes wrong tonight, don't you?
Charpentier (with a smile): Of course, my dear Albert, you
are a master of retort and recrimina tion.
Lorraine :
Well, forewarned is forearmed.
Charpentier: When are we meeting for our traditional little
conference?
Lorraine (uncomfortably): Which conference?
Charpentier: Oh, not the conference you were going to call
this morning.
Divine providence took ch arge
of that. No, I mean the one we always have
you, Jack and myself 1 on the day of the open-
ing performance.
Lorraine:
At three o'clock this afternoon.
They turned and looked at the stage.
Charpentier: There you are, look at that.
He's still a
showman,
Hellebore performed a number of very fast cartwheels,
flinging his body over with an immense force.


He tuke aud Saspesl
Lorraine:
When they reach that age Now you look at
that.
On the rebound from his last cartwheel Hellebore
slipped backwards: he managed to right hinself, but not
without pulling one of his calf-muscles painfully.
limped to the armchair in the wings and sat down.
Lorraine:
This is an exact repetition of my most fearful
dream, even to the point of the strange: in-
truder in the dead of night.
Even I was not
superstitious enough to believe that my worst
fears could materialise in such close detail.
In future I shall pay more attention to those
foolish fears of mine; apparently there is
less folly in them than you or I or anybody
else thought.
Charpentier: But I'm afraid that if you begin taking note
of your fears and premonitions, Albert, you
will never float another show or take another
business risk as long as you live, and you
will end a pauper.


Scene 3:
The same, two hours later.
At noon each day during rehearsals the Crimson
Tower became a dining-room for theartistes and members of
the orchestra: the armchairs and cocktail-tables were mov ed
back to the walls, and round mahogany tables and stiff-
backed chairs were brought in.
Hellebore, Eliza and Helen Eugenie sat near one of
the windows, talking after their lunch.
Hellebore was
dressed in a light country-tweed suit.
Helen Eugenie,
Nidok's second stage assistant, was taller and older than
Eliza;
Bhe was sombre, her hands were long.
She was
dressed in black, with a. black lace collar high at her neck.
The clouds were still low, but now and again there
was a sharp ray of sunlight from between them which lit up
the lounge suddenly and then died quickly down,
Helen:
You haven't said a. kind word to him since
we arrived in Paris, and goodness knows what
you've been saying behind his back.
If he
makes you so unhappy why don't you leave him
and find other work?
Eliza:
What other work?
Helen:
Oh, my dear girl, Lorraine would surely find
something for you.
Eliza:
Yes, with certain conditions attached.
Helen:
Still, it might make you see Heinrich in a


better light.
Never has he once done you an
unkindness.
Kever once has he even snapped
at you..
Eliza (bitterly): No. He never talks, that's why. : It's
the silence I can't bear.
Helen:
Well, I should try noisier work if I were you,
and then perhaps you'd call his silence peace
of mind, and run back to it like a naughty
child.
I suppose you have noticed that he
never answers your rudeness.
Eliza:
Yes, but I wish he would answer me just once:
Iwish he's smack my face or call me a slovenly
little bitch,
Imagine Heinrich calling me a
slovenly little bitch, Jack!
Helen:
I dare say you could find cruel and foul-
mouthed employers enough; there are plenty
of them in our profession.
Why don't you
go out and look for one?
Eliza:
Because I am lazy and stupid.
I want a
husband and I want children.
There is nothing
Heinrich can do about that, but you'd think.
that if he were as holy as you say he is he
would try to give me a little comfort. A
little comfort, I don't know what, but a holy
man would know, e so you would think, wouldn't


she
she/
you? Yes, Jack, - called him holy the other
day.
She worships him.
Hellebore (shyly, to Helen): Do you think I ought to have
a word with him about Eliza?
She isn't
happy
Eliza:
Yes, tell him I've been in love wit th you for
the last ten years; what could his holiness
do about that?
Helen (perhaps a little panic-stricken by Hellebore's
proposal): It wouldn't be wise, Jack.
You
would only hurt him and achieve nothing for
Eliza.
Hellebore:
How could I hurt him?
Helen (with difficulty): You wouldn't be able to get a
word out of him. All I can tell you is that
he would become quite silent.
He would stand
there as if he were paralysed and dumb.
the best of times he is shy with men - a whereas
with women he relies on his instincts.
How
can I explain it?
He hates putting his
feelings into words.
They seeu insufficient
to him; they always belie his feelings and get
him into trouble.
Words hurt him.
He told
me once he would like to go through life in an
unbroken silence; all his communications with


other people would be in silence.
That is
why he has never once uttered a word during
one of his acts since he first went on the
stage thirty-four years ago.
He loves
silence; I have seen him stand in some of
those Bavarian valleys as if he were listening
to. their silence. I know exactly how he
would feel if you tried to talk to him,
you must trust my knowledge of him. He would
be shy and bongue-tied; he would feel as if
he were stuck fast in a terrible mire and
being sucked down.
His only thought would be
to get himself free, to find himself again in
silence and solitude.
He would be like a
caught animal, and your own pity and compass-
ion would make you set him free again. - You
would see for yourself what I mean, but I want
you to trust what I say . and not even try to
see him; I do my best to protect him, you see,
Jack.
When he is allowed to be alone for
hours on end and to go through the day wi thout
a lot of words, he feels free and clean and
wholesome : his eyes look rested and calm, and
one feels very secure in his company.
But I
know exactly when he has been troubled by con-
versations with people, because his eyes. are :


no longer clear, he looks a little feverish,
his walk is uncertain, his mouth is less
resolved, he moves his arms about awkwardly,
he is no longer master of himself; a ghastly
fever has got the better of him.
Eliza:
But in any case he hates Jack.
Helen:
Oh, Eliza... You say these rash things, but
do you think whether they are true or not?
Eliza:
I know that's true.
I can use my own eyes.
(Turning to Hellebore) They both hate you.
If she could put an end to your career tomorrow
she'd do it, for Heinrich's sake. She'd lay
the whole world waste for Heinrich's sake.
Everything she does is for Heinrich
Helen (near tears): No, Eliza, no!
Eliza:
She goes everywhere with that horrible set
smile of hers; it means she's thinking about
Heinrich.
Dear Heinrich a
Hellebore (disgusted): Oh, shut up. What the hell's it
got to do with me?
Wine?
He held the wine bottle diagonally before Helen,
and she shook her head.
He held it before Eliza, and she
merely averted her eyes without uttering a word.
He filled
his own glass and laid the bottle down meditatively.
Helen (to Hellebore): Forgive her.
She is only acting out


her little, melodrama.
Hellebore:
No, she isn't acting anything.
Helen:
He's so considerate, Jack : she has nothing
at all to complain of.
Hellebore:
I think she is fond of him, Helen, but there,
he never addresses a word to her...
Helen:
That's his a nature, which God gave hime I'm
48SNEEESR
used to it, because I've taken the trouble to
know and understand him. She would never
take that trouble.
Hellebore:
She isn't the silent kind.
She enjoys talk-
ing.
She behaves very naturally.
The two
of you are driving her out of her mind.
must say I wouldn't like to spend my life with
people who sat and stared at me and never said
a word. You've aged her in the last five
years. I can see that, having been away for
five years.
She's so touchy now.
Helen:
You say "the two of you" as if Heinrich and I
were in a conspiracy together.
Eliza (quietly, her eyes lovingly on Hellebore): You are,
I'n sure you do horrible things togeth er,
like putting spells on people.
Helen (with pity): You don't believe that, do you, Eliza?
Eliza:
Yes, I do; you told me yourself that you
believed in his spells.


Helen (devoutly): I believe in a certain power he has to
change natural events.
I believe some very
rare and extraordinary human beings have that
power
Eliza:
Well, then, I say he tries to practice spells
on people, and with your help.
When he looks
at me sometimes with those holy eyes of his
which never move he terrifies me a
I'm not
saying MAt I believe in his powers or take
his spells seriously, but yes, that's the
right word, you two are in a conspiracy. If
you could do it by spells you'd murder Jack
in his bed.
Helen:
Do you think Heinrich is professionally so
incompetent that he would have to AAANASS
mtVeA resort to: those methods?
Eliza:
It always hurts him to think of Jack's position
in the theatre.
Helen (with calm logic): Why does he accept a contract in
one of Jack's most important shows?
Eliza:
Because Jack fascinates him.
I can feel him
watching Jack all the time, trying to discover
his secret, measuring him with that holy cool-
ness of his.
Helen:
Isn't it possible that he admires Jack, and


watches him with awe?
Eliza:
Don't degrade yourself, Helen!
Watch him
with awe! Why, whenever I mention Jack in
his company he jumps out of his shoes.
Helen:
Well, I'm glad you say all this to me and not
to his face.
If only you'd take the trouhle
to understand him, as I have...
Eliza:
I'm even tired of talking about him. You can
give me some wine now, Jack,
Hellebore filled her glass and winked at her: she
took a sip of her wine, looked pained, as if the taste dis-
pleased her, then set her glass down again.
Eliza:
I don't know vhy I drink this yellow piss.
I loved Campeachy Bay last year because they
had all those. beautiful fruit drinks. You
can keep your vintage wine.
Helen:
You can't forgive Heinrich his strangeness,
can you? You want everyone to be hail-fellow-
well-met.
Eliza (with bitter gaiety): Yes, I do.
Helen:
But since you spend so much time with him don't
you think you ought to try and understand him?
Eliza:
Does he try and understand me?
Helen:
He knows you as a mother knows the fruit of
her : own womb.
You hate his strangeness, but
he has always been strange, (Coolly determined


to vindicate Eiselheim) He even believes in fairies,
like a child.
Why don't you laugh?
Eliza:
I don't want to laugh.
Helen:
Most people would, and I thought you preferr ed
most people to one so unique and strange.
Yes,
he believes in fairics, and he adores birds.
(Her eyes fixed on Eliza) DENHRLR I have seen him
talking to birds in the Piazza Cataluna in
Barcelona, with all the Spaniards staring at
him.
He can speak to birds, you know, and
make them understand.
And shall I tell you
something about his childhood?
He was the
son of an officer in the Prussian army. He
never knew family life in the proper sense.
His father was killed when he was five, and
before that he had only seen him three or four
times.
With his mother he travelled from one
town to another and one country to another in-
cessantly year after year. He was a dreaming
child, and his dreams were what he could carry
from one place to another without damaging theme
He spent his childhood among the women friends
of hiss mother, mos t of them officers' wives.
Thése women were restless. They would do any-
thing to kill time. They played games of
hypnosis with professional hypnotisers, they


were always finding new card-tricks, and they
were all enthusiastic a.strologers.
In effect
Heinrich was bred and educated by these rest-
less and superstitious women, some of whom were
German, others Poles, others French, and others
Rumanian.
From them he learned his silence,
his separateness and his dark powers. Already
as a child he dreamed his way silently through
SEE
each day 5 and no doubt he was already as a
child making enemies like yourself, enemies
whose hatred he never sought to provoke and
therefore never deserved.
(Glancing at
Hellebore, then at Eliza) And sha 11 I tell
pitaful
spiltoful/ - P
you how old he is, i this/young man'yht A DMMO
lpronspparsartone n
He is
fifty-four years old, Eliza.
Hellebore - and Eliza looked at her with surpri se.
Helen:
Yes, he was born just after the outbreak of
the Austro-P-Prussian War. But there, he
doesn't need my defence. He is so sufficient
to himself, and he was probably no less so
when he was four years' old.
Lorraine wiped the sweat from his upper lip with
a handkerchief and pulled one of his windows down. For a
few minutes he stood still by the window and watched three


children playing in the park below, then he returned wi th
a sigh to his desk. He rubbed his right ear and shifted
in his chair.
There was not a sound in the office.
put his hand on the telephone receiver but immediately with-
drew it.
He took a memorandum book from the edge of his
desk and began writing: "You said that everything in the
world was my responsibility so long as I thought about it,
and that the more I thi ink about the more I am responsible
for, I must have this clear,
When I am face to face with
you I feel empty. I want the strength to say what is in
ny mind, or rather the strength to bring back to my mind
the thoughts which your presence frightened away. I have
a lot to tell you about pride. You said that a man can
also sin by failing to do good.
What did I fail to do?
What am I failing to do now?"
He went to the window and looked out again.
The
three children were no longer visible.
The telephone
bell rang and he disregarded it.
He returned to his
desk and wrote the following words: "If only I could be
granted a moment of innocence r
Françine Berger's private room was on the ground
floor of the new wing, behind the stage andat the very
back of the theatre.
Its one window gave out onto the
park, the same area of park that could be seen, two floors
above, from the windows of Albert Lorraine's office. It


was a very small room, and an elm-tree immediately outside
the window made it dark at all times of the day.
Most of the furniture had clearly been stage
properties at one time.
Under the window there was a
violet divan with satin-covered cushions, and against the
wall near the door there was a dressing-table with an ebony-
inlaid top.
In the middle of the room, on a fragment of
rich Persian carpet, stood a light crimson pouf.
Nailed
onto the wall were trinkets, gold-framed medallions bearing
the portraits of past actors and actresses, euttings from
old newspapers, a silver-plated crucifix, visiting cards
with signatures on them, and, over the dressing-table, a
long polished cutlass with a blue ribbon and tassle at
its handle.
In the hearth there was a gas-fire, and at
this moment it was alight.
Francine Berger lay naked on the divan, and in the
armchair next to the gas-fire, facing the window and the
divan, sat Henry Sangson, also naked. (Francine (turning her
head towards the window, gazing at the elm-tree) You
killed people when you were a soldier, and
now you're ashamed of it.
That's why you are always talking about
murder, because you yourself are a murderer.
Sangson:
Yes, perhaps you are right.
He leaned forward to warm himself at the gas-fire.


Neither spoke for a few monents.
Francine:
What made you go and see him?
Sangson:
Bagar Finstanley asked me to. And I want ed
to on my own account.
Francine:
But why?
Sangson:
Well, I told you long ago how important he was
to both of us. We lived among the dead, and
death seemed the most either of us could look
forward to. We lived among dead things,
everything we touched was dead, every noise
denoted the nearness of death.
In our world
the worst always happened.
We were young.
I still an young.
(Bitterly) Naturally,
I wanted to see Hellebore. I needed to see
him. I wanted to get back a little warmth
into my fingers.
Francine:
But you made him ill.
Did that make you
feel warmer?
This morning he was sick, and
this evening he'll be unfit to go on the stagen
If he makes a mess of it you'l1 be to blame.
(Leaning forward on her elbows, frowning at
him) what made you call on him so late at
night?
What made you take him along to
that club?
Sangson (lowering his eyes): You told me he kept late


hours, and I expected to find him with his
guests.
Francine (lying back angrily): Well, he needia protecting
against people like you. I don't know how
he can possibly get through his act tonightt
I've never seen him look so ill.
You're a
fine one to talk about murder.
Her cheeks were a little flushed as she spoke.
Sangson looked at her in silence. He mddenly seehalb vealise
Spmetlung aud looked acun ut her with clear eyed.
Sangson:
11 You feel warmer towards him than you do
' hesaid.
towards me , K"I can see that.
Na the - 1 Int Yur pakence, piderig at
Francine (losing-her patienee) 1 But you 're thinking about
te Clanket
/ cae
yourself all the time!" Miou called on him
to get back a little warnth into your fingers 1
into your fingers.
And now you are wanting
more warmth out of mee
Sangson (disturbed): No, I didn't mean that. I think you
are right to feel more warnly towards him.
He snulad
I wasn't asking for pity. (With a smile)
"If you think I was, you aren't a good judge
of men.
Francine (more agreeably): ta But you were wrong to
there
he wus X Leuthe wou
at minight and upset him, my dear. "Iou
make the mistake of talking too lainly to
people.
You don't realise how all this


miserable talk about murder and death and
emptiness may affect some of them.
You
shouldn't have called on him at midnight,
and you shouldn't have talked to him about
Sue Look
his own son.
(Shaking her head in per-
plexity) I don't know, a you seem to go
along like a blind man. You behave sometimes
as if you were soft in the head. Even now
you don't seen to realise what"you. did last
night: you don't seem to realise that Jack
may make a mess of everything tonight just
because of you,
You don't seem to realise
you may have murdered a great career.
Sangson (warming his hands again): Perhaps I don't think
I have murdered a great career.
Franci ne :
We shall see tonight.
Look at you, - even
now you don't seem to be grasping what I say.
Sangson shrugged his shoulders, and they said
nothing for some time.
Francine (coldly): If you were a self-sufficient person
you would never have called on him and upset
him like that.
You only did it because you
can't stand on your own feet.
You have to
suck other people to death in order to live.
You aren't self-sufficient, not as Jack must


have been when he was your age.
Sangson (with resignation): Oh, come, a you're only trying
to be cruel.
Francine:
Your job is jewel-cutting, but you aren't
interested in it as other men are interested
in their work.
You aren't capable of leading
your own life: that's why you called on Jack
last night.
During the Wax you killed people
like every other soldier, but now you won't
forget it, and you won't let other people
forget it.
(With sudden anger): Why couldn't
you have gone off to war and done your job
like everybody else, and then come back wi th-
out all this fuss and bother?
Sangson:
Don't the others make any fuss?
Francine:
Sangson:
The fools don't, I agree 6
Francine:
Well, where does your wisdom get you? No
further than a jeweller's shop.
(Turnins
her head towards him) Suppose there had
never been a war?
What would have happened
to you?
Sangson:
I thinl- I would have taken up a teachers'
certificate and taught in a country schooli.
I would have married, no doubt,
And I would
have joined an archaeological society. But


the point is I shouldn't have watched myself
living, as I do now,
The War taught me to
do that.
Francine:
You haven't found your proper friends,
that's all you mean.
You are with the wrong
people.
The Celida's aren't your kind, nor
am I, really.
Sangson:
But where are the right people?
Nowhere.
Francine:
Exactly. - You aren't self-sufficient,
She drew a blanket over her legs and hips.
Sangson:
Are you the wrong person for me, then?
Francine:
Well, you don't love me. You only need me
sometimes,
You've just made love to me, but
we don't know each other any better for it.
You're alone all the time, even. when you make
love to me.
Sangson:
But so are you in a different way.
Francine (angrily): Well, I've told you before.
You must
treat me like a oripple.
You must try to give
me the sympathy you'd give to a cripple.
But
all your talk won't make me enjoy it more,
Sangson (staring at her): But you do believe that making love
is horrible.
Francine:
I've never said that.
Sangson:
And you are right.
It is horrible. It is sex.


The word itself is horrible.
It is sharp,
merciless, brief, metallic.
Secare is the Zatin
for divide or cut.
That's where the word sex
comes from.
But love, Francine, is from Tubet:
it pleases.
The love is disappearing from our
world, Francine, and instead of men and women
there are everywhere creatures alone with their
own flesh, dying for lack of blood and warmth,
cut off from each other, just as you and I are
cut off from each other.
In sex we are only
two persons funbling with each other like
monsters.
I hate and despise sex.
It is a
twentieth century invention, like the shrapnel
bullet.
An act of sex is an aot of murder.
It is two people joined together in a conspiracy
of murder.
Francine: (quietly) Have we just committed an act of murder.
then? Is everything in the world murder?
Sangson:
We are too secretive about each other, Francine.
We must let other peopie see us together. Even
Giordano and Maria don't know about us. I ought
to feel free in this theatre.
We musn't hide
away as if it were a crime we were committing.
Francine:
But suppose there really is no love between us?
Suppose we really never can please each other?


rmm
Sangson:
Well, in future, when people ask me whether I
know you I shall say, yes, I'm her lover.
shall force. myself into the open.
Francine (despondently):
But you will still be alone. I
don't think we shall ever be able to break
through to each other.
Sangson:
We can try. The will is there.
Francine:
But you're secretive about everything you're
really interested in. You asked me all those
questions about where Jack was going to stay and
when he would be arriving in Paris, but you never
said you might call on him.
And I don't expect
I should ever have known about last night if he
hadn't told me himself.
Sangson:
I had nothing in mind -when I asked you those
questions.
Francine:
I don't believe it.
You must have played with
the idea of visiting Jack, because Edgar asked
you to do so. No, we shall never be lovers in
the true sense.
She lay staring up at the ceiling in silence.
Sangson rose and went to the window.
He stood at
the end of her divan.
He looked across the lawn of the park.
Francine:
Be careful. Someone might see you.
He drew back a little from the window.


Sangson:
You must try to understand what I tell you.
War was a kind of religious experience for me;
it is holy for me.
I went out to Flanders
to suffer, not to kill people.
I went to
die rather than to kill.
War was a crucifizion
for me.
I went out to be crudified.
(Looking down at her)
And somehow 1 I can't
tell you why dpe I expected to suffer my
crucifixion without dying.
And that was my
horrible error, to believe that I was inviolate.
How did I expect to survive? How did I expect to
be nailed to the cross and have my side pierced,
and yet survive?
How did I expect to survive
just the exposure and the loss of blood? But of
course I had to die.
And now I can no longer
feel the life in my fingers, as I am always
telling you.
So you mustn't begrudge me my
little midnight adventure.
Nidok walked swiftly across the stage towards the
wings.
Only a part of a battery of lights in the flies
was switched on, so that the light was weak.
Just as he
reached the centre of the stage he seemed to hear sonething
and stopped.
He turned and peered at some flats elose to
the rear wall of the stage, where at present the light was


weakest.
Standing by these flats in the darkness were
Hellebore and Eliza Banning.
Nidok stepped back in his
astonishment.
They were talking to each other, but what
they said was made inaudible fron the front of the stage by
the heavy flats behind them.
Hellebore nodded to her,
then put his arm on her shoulder and kissed her brow gently.
She smiled and seemed from the distance to look deep into
his eyes.
Hellebore went towarde the staircase leading up
to Lorraine's office, and Eliza turned towards the wings on
the right hand side.
Nidok walked into the darkness on his left and leaned
against the procenium arch.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
le war Oun f les hal
>ulfesesl smie shak, 4h Le:
wen luestnig laanly
aud hin lead wur Lnned.


Lorraine put down his pen and switched on the desk-
lamp.
Outside the clouds were dark and low, and a violent
wind was now blowing across the park.
He sealed an envelope
and wrote the words "Father Michelon" on it.
Nothing could
be heard from the stage below.
There was a knock on the door, and Hellebore entered
by the gallery-door.
Lorraine looked up, then rose with a
smile and went towards him.
Hellebore:
I just wanted to see how you were.
Lorraine nodded and took his arm, then led him to
a chair in silence,
Lorraine:
I had to put the light ono
Were you caught
in the storm?
Hellebore:
No, I was in the Crimson Tower.
Lorraine sat down and put the envelope in one of the
top drawers of his desk.
Lorraine:
I was frightened this morning.
You looked
very ill, Jack.
I thought that was the end
of tonight's show.
Hellebore:
Yes, I was still shaking like a leaf during
rehearsals.
But I had a good lay-down after-
wards, and I feel steady enough now.
Have
you anything to drink : nere?
I'm parched.
Lorraine (rising and taking a key from his waistcoat pocket)
By all means.
What shall I give you?
Hellebore:
Anything as long as it isn't cognac.


Lorraine (with a smile): Will water do?
Hellebore:
I prefer it.
Lorraine unlocked a corner cupboard behind his desk
and took out a tumbler.
He bent down and looked along the
bottom shelf, then brought out an earthenware flagon, which
he put down on the desk.
He broke its seal with a heavy
paper-knife and drew out the cork.
Hellebore watched him
closely.
Hellebore:
Is that water?
Lorraine:
Yes.
Hellebore: -
What's it doing in there, then?
Lorraine :
It's Lourdes water.
Hellebore:
What, : a kind of spa water?
Lorraine:
No, no, * holy water.
(With a shy smile) I
wanted God to be on your side tonight.
Hellebore (playfully) Well, I hope it does me good.
Lorraine:
It comes from the holy spring at Lourdes.
He filled the tumbler and handed it to Hellebore.
Lorraine looked out of the window at the park.
was now in half-darkness; raindrops were flying against the
window-panes, and occasionally the window rattled.
The elm-
trees close to the theatre wall were no longer visible.
Lorraine :
Where did you eat?
Hellebore:
In the Crimson Tower, with Helen and Eliza.
Lorraine:
How was Eliza?
Hellebore:
She certainly isn't happy, you know.


Lorraine (with a sigh): No, I'm anxious about her. I don't
think Eiselheim understands her well enough.
Of course, she's still in love with you.
Hellebore:
She'd like me to marry her, but I don't think
it amounts to more than that, though it did
before the War.
Lorraine (quietly, with assurance): Oh, yes, it amounts to
very much more than that.
The wind suddenly dropped ands for a moment not - a
sound could be heard.
It gradually started up again and
the rain grew heavier.
Hellebore:
will you be coming down this afternoon?
Lorraine:
Yes, I shall be down. I'm only sitting here
now because I feel so sleepy.
This is the
time of day when I feel a sleepless night most.
And I usually feel sad at this time of day.
I prefer the evenings.
I find them exciting.
He took the tumbler and earthenware flagon, and
without rising from his chair he put them badk in the cupboard
behind him. He did this slowly and thoughi - tfully.
Lorraine:
I'm glad we let things take their course.
We shall see a fine performance from you
tonight. (Glancing at Hellebore hesitantly)
Suppose we'd cancelled your contract?
They smiled at' each other.
Hellebore:
We could have drawn up another one.


Hellebore rose and went towards the door.
Hellebore: :
Well, thank you for the holy water. I'm
Beradict
going down to change,
I told Leets Amurrat
two-fifteen.
Lorraine :
Can you manage our little conf erence with
Bernard at three?
Hellebore:
Yes, I'll slip in at three.
Lorraine :
I shall be down at the stage in a few minutes.
I'm very anxious to see the new stuff, Jack.
Hellebore:
I think it will please you,
Hellebore left the office and returned to his own
dressing-room.
From the stage there was the sound of
hammering and shouting.
On his dressing-table, pinned to the white cover,
there was a letter addressed to "Monsieur Finstanley (Helle-
He switched on the mirfor lights and read it.
"Please come without fail to Les Anges this evening
at seven o'clock. I shall keep you only for a very
few minutes. I should be happier if Sangson were
were not told about this. Forgive the scribble.
Maria Celida. #
He screwed the letter up and walked towards the
hearth.
He was about to throw it onto the flames, but he
stopped and opened it out again.
He looked at it closely
a second time, then bent down and set light to it.


The stage was now brightly lit, and stagehands were
hurriedly clearing ladders, cables and flats from the back.
The garlanded staircase was brought in well upstage, and a
section of the stage was raised to a height of ten or fifteen
feet to make a first landing.
A plain light blue curtain
was then lowered in front of this structure, concealing it
from the stalls and leaving the front part of the stage empty
Three sceneshifters wheeled in the ramshackle piano
from the left, and simultaneously side-curtains were lowered
to conceal the wings. A trapeze was lowered from the flies
so that it hung half-way between the boards and the proscen-
ium arch, and a chest of drawers was placed on the right
near the footlights.
The tiny bowler-hat descended from the
flies, and a sceneshifter guided it towards the top of the
chest of drawers, where it remained.
Meanwhile the steel
wire was drawn taut between the stays, which were off-stage.
A white skipping-rope was laid on the piano, and two chairs
were placed near the back-drop curtains.
Two arc-lamps were switched on from each side, and
the front curtain was swiftly lowered and raised again.
Hellebore left his dressing-room and went up to the
stage.
He wore his white pierrots' costume with the pom-
Be upd.c(
pom buttons, but no wig or make-up.
Leais Amurrat was
standing in the wings, and Hellebore went to his side.


He glanced across the stage at the light blue curtain.
Hellebore:
Where's my own backdrop?
Amurrat:
You'll see it tonight, Jack. This one came
from the old stage.
I believe you used it
Hellebore nodded and walked on to the stage.
somersaulted to the centre, just as the last scene shifters
were going into the wings.
He stood on the tips of his
toes for a moment, then cartwheeled rapidly towards the
footlights.
He seemed out of breath when he rose.
thred himself onto his hands and hand-walked from one side
of the stage to the other, his legs curled over so that the
soles of his feet were parallel with the floor.
The orchestra began taking their places and tuning up,
and a faint light was turned on at the conductor's ros trum.
Two electricians brought on a fresh smoke-box and
fixed it to the piano.
8E5
Louis Comte went over to Hellebore, who was standing
upstage with his hands on his hips, breathing heavily
Comte:
Albert Lorraine would like to see you down in
the stalls.
Hellbbore:
Is he there now?
Comte:
He was on his way there when I saw him.
Hellebore:
We ought to be away by now.
The orchestra
was late.
What's the time?


Comte:
Nine teen minutes past two.
Hellebore:
Yes, well I was down here by two-fifteen.
He went between the footlights and the proscenium
arch to the wooden steps leading down to the stalls.
The
dust-covers had now been removed, and Lorraine was sitting
in the front row, alone. He called to Hellebore as he came
down.
Hellebore: (sitting at Lorraine's side) Is the storm over?
Lorraine:
The wind has dropped, but it's still raining.
k. Janud cl H's SiTe I like seeing you in that costume again.
dun, 4
(Glancing at him) But your breathing is still
Toclud ri ndy :
none too good.
luttas m
pon thte
The conductor climbed to his rostrum and sat down.
The curtain was lowered, and now only the footlights remained
to illuminate the stalls where Lorraine and Hellebore sat.
Lorraine:
You feel safe now,do=you?
Hellebore:
Safe?
Lorraine :
I mean, you'll be giving all your mind to the
work from now on, will you?
This morning in
the dressing-room you said you were sick of
the work,
(Uncomfortably) I wanted to know
if you are still even a very little sick of it.
Lorraine gazed at the curtain, waiting for an answer.
For a few moments Hellebore did not speak.


Arlax le said:
Hellebore:
My arms ache, my legs ache, every step I tak e
on that stage I have to think about. I can't
get my breath properly.
I was never like
this before the War. And I'm not an old mans
slana We t,
Lorraine E (watching him alertly in the shadows) What's the
trouble, Jack?
I thought you were back in
the old style thirty minutes ago.
Hellebore (quietly): I am sick of the work.
walue
iu a Slustd, lueattdes) voa :
Lorraine
MLE
(frightened): Eut can't postpone or cancel now 9.
Jack.
It's too late. You ought to have
spoken sooner.
I don't believe it: I don't
believe a man like you can get sick of his
work. You wait until you're up on the stage.
Hellebore:
I've just been up on the stage.
Lorraine:
But this morning you insisted on getting into
your tights, - what has come over you since
then?
Amurrat told me you were your old self
during rehearsals this morning, and I believe
your act is full of new and solid stuff.
He leaned back in his seat, frowning.
The conductor
tapped the music-stand lightly with his baton, and the
orchestra ceased tuning up.
Lorraine :
Are you seeing that young man this afternoon?
Hellebore:
Yes, at' four o'clock, in my dressing-room.


Lorraine:
Has he brought you all this misery?
Is it
him?
The orchestra struck up into a quick waltz.
Lorraine (shouting above the music, moving closer to Helle-
bore): I've never seen you like this before,
Jack!
Hellebore sat low in his seat, staring at his out-
stretched legs. He did-not-speak until the music was over
and the auditorium once more silent.
Hellebore:
I should have answered my son's letters.
wrote me letters during the War, and to me
they were much like all the other begging letten
I got.
It was in my hands to save his life.
Lorraine (sceptically): How?
Hellebore:
These things happen to bits of kids because of
people like me, I suppose.
Lorraine:
What things?
Hellebore:
He turned my room into an
undertakers' with all his talk about war.
He blamed me.
Lorraine (perplexed): But what could you have done?
What
were these letters you should have answered?
What was it you did wrong to your son?
Hellebore:
It's too long a story, Albert.
Lorraine:
But what does this young man complain about'


(Watching Hellebore suspiciously): I want you
to tell me, Jack, what was he after? Why
did he call you up so late?
Why did he take
you out to a club and introduce you to the
Italian couple?
Tell me what you think his
motives were, because it's him. who has got
under your skin.
I've never seen you worry
like this before.
Until now I never thought
you had a conscience for anything outside your
work.
Hellebore:
He just wanted to see me, and che eer himself
up a bit.
He's finished.
The War finished
him.
He's a boy without a future.
He really
didn't survive the War at all.
(Turning to
Lorraine)
I want to help him, I could take
him on tour, you know, like my own son.
The orchestra began its second tune, - a loud military
two-step.
Hellebore (shouting above the music): I wish to God I could
go back to that hotel now and forget this dress-
rehearsal!
I don't want other people watching
Lorraine stared at him in astonishment.
Lorraine:
Don't see anything more of those people, Jack
Hellebore (bitterly): I shall see Sangson at four o'clock


this afternoon, and this evening I shall see
the Italian woman at Les Anges.
Lorraine:
Not just before the performance?
Hellebore:
Yes, at seven o'clock.
Lorraine (helplessly, touching Hellebore's white sleeve):
What are they up to, these people?
What
are they up to?
Bénedict Amurrat pulled back the curtain and peered
down into the dark stalls.
The moment he saw Amurrat's
head Hellebore rose.
Hellebore:
We're ten minutes late starting.
He left Lorraine and returned to the stage. The
music ended, and Lorraine remained sitting in the stalls,
staring before him.
Just as the curtain began to rise he
jumped up and walked to a small door at the side of the stage.
He walked along a narrow corridor, then ascended some
steps into the wings at the very back of the stage.
walked past the garlanded staircase and behind a silver back-
drop to the stairs leading up to his own office.
Jus t as
he reached the gallery outside his door there was a smart
explosion from the stage below and he turned nervously and
looked down.
A cloud of white snoke issued from the grand
piano, and he watched it move slowly from right to left of
the stage.
He looked at the taut steel wire and the
hanging trapeze, then he entered the office.


He took up the telephone. *
Lorraine (into the mouthpiece): Get me Monsieur Charpentier.
A pause, until Charpentier answered) Bernard,
pos tpone our little conf erence unt: il four o'-
clock.... Well, a number of things.... Four
o'clock, then.
The sky was no longer dark, though it was still
raining.
He leaned across his desk and switched off the
lamp, then picked the telephone up again.
Lorraine (into thermouthpicce): Get me Vonsierr Jean Duloi-
Bordeau... (Listening) His dressing-room I
think. (Listening) Hullo, Jean. Listen to
I want you to come up to the office
immediately. (Listening) Albert Lorrai: ne :
And, Jean, I want you to bring your brother.
But you must both come immediately.
He walked across to the gallery-door, then out onto
the gallery. As he opened the door a bxass-drum sounded out
from the stage below, then a clown's yell of di smay. He
looked down,
Hellebore had just fallen onto his back near
the chest-of-drawers, and one of the drawers was open. His
white pierrot's costume was in rags, and his vest and combina-
tions were now visible.
Lorraine leaned on the gallery-
bannisters, gazing at a battery of lights above the stage a'
at the top of the proscenium arch, his lips pursed.


remained there until, a few minutes later, there was a knock
on the other door of his office.
He went quickly back and
closed the gallery-door, then admitted Jean and Pierre
Duloi-Bordeau.
Jean wore a dark suit with a high starched collar
of the kind no longer in vogue, while Pierre was in tights
and blouse.
Pierre Duloi-Bordeau was taller and thinner
than his brother; he moved about awkwardly, and in deference
to the others he took a chair near the window, a little
apart from them.
Lorraine (quietly, his eyes on the desk): A young man is
going to visit Jack this afternoon whom I
suspect of trying to blackmail him,
Have
you noticed anything wrong with Jack today?
Jean (a little startled): No.
Lorraine:
Did you watch this morning's rehearsal?
Jean (thinking slowly, with effort): Yes.
I saw Jack
rehearse. I thought he was a bit slow off
the mark, but I'd no idea he was in trouble.
Lorraine:
He was a sick man, He vomitfed in his
dressing-room, and I don't think he had more
than a couple of horrst sleep last night.
I found him on his bed with his jacket torn:
that was after nine this morning.
Pierre leaned forward inquisitively.


Jean:
What had happened?
Lorraine:
A young man called on him at midnight.
They
left the hotel together and went to a club.
At the club they were joined by an Italian
couple.
Jack came back to the hotel at five
o'clock this morning, and he was very drunk and
ill.
And these people have dispirited him.
Somehow they have broken his will. (Glancing
up at Jean) He's sick at heart.
He lost a
son during the War, 1 I believe it all has
something to do with that.
Somehow th ese
people have played on his compassion.
I've no
grounds for saying they intend blackmail; I
simply don't know what they are up to. All I
can tell you is that today Jack is a miserable,
listless, sick man, whereas last night, before
these people came on the scene, he was happy
enough.
You talked to him last night, didn't
you?
Jean:
Yes.
He was his old self.
Lorraine:
Exactly.
He leaned back in his chair, still gazing at the desk.
Lorraine:
In any case, whether they. are up to mischief or
not, we mustn't take risks.
I am determined
to stop that young man visiting Jack this


after --noon.
I simply. cannot afford to take a risk;
He glanced at Pierre, then at Jean.
Lorraine:
I want your help, you understand.
I want you
to prevent that young man entering this theatre.
All I can tell-you is that he's an Englishman.
He has arranged to see Jack in this theatre
at four o'clock this afternoon.
One of you
must wait for him in the foyer, the other at
the stage door.
You must tell him that Jack's
dress rehearsal has been cancelled and that he
wishes to see the young man at his hotel. You
will have my car, but not the chauffeur. You
must then offer to drive him down to Jack's
hotel.
Drop him there and tell him to await
Jack in the lounge.
But he must be kept away
from this theatre.
Of course, it's possible
that this is a harnless young man,
It's
possible that Jack wanted a night out last night
and took more than was good for him,
But I'm
not prepared to take a risk: and if the young
man offers you violence run him to the nearest
police station and call me up immediately.
Perhaps he did after all soldier with Jack's
son, as he claims he did: but I'm not prepared
to take any risk.


Pierre (slyly) I was watching Jack this morning from the
wings, and he slipped once. But he seemed
alright in himself.
Lorraine:
We've got to be careful precisely because this
immense show - it's the most important one in
my career, perhaps in yours esa
He raised his eyebrows and Jean Duloi-Bordeau nodded.
Lorrai ne:
depends on Jack being able to give his mind
to his work.
Now I don't want you to talk
to anyone else about this.
He picked up the telephone.
Lorraine (into the mouthpiece): Get me the stage... Hullo.
I want Monsieur Amurrat and Honsieur Comte to
visit me in my office immediately.
Deliver
that message, please... Monsieur Lorraine...
Hullo...Yes...I'm not the slightest concerned
about the dress rehearsal.
I wish to see
Benedict and Louis at once. I shall keep them
for as little time as possible.
Tell th em
that... Thank you.
He replaced the receiver and once more turned to
Jean and Pierre.
Lorraine:
We are protecting Jack, you see, against people
who want to break his will.
(Rising) Very
well, I shall call you up again at half-past


three.
He walked towards the door, and Jean and Pierre rose.
Lorraine:
Please stay in your dressing-room until I call
you again.
He held the door open for them, and they walked past
him into the corridor.
Jean still seemed a little startled,
and in the corridor he turned, waiting for Lorraine to say
something more.
But Lorraine only nodded and smiled at hin,
then closed the door silently behind them.
He returned tothe-desk and took from one of his
drawers the file containing Father Michelon's letters.
pushed back the sheaf of letters and looked at the subject-
index.
He turned to the fifth letter.
"You ask for innocence. But that is a. very tall
demand for a man over forty. It is an even taller
demand for a business-man over forty. And how much
taller a demand is it for a business-man over forty in
the theatre!"
I shall come and see you. FT
Father Michelon.
He laid the file down and went. to the window.
gazed out across the park for a moment, through the thick
rain,
Then he returned to the desk and took from a drawer
oul
the letter he had not long before addressed to Father Michefu
He sat down and drew the waste-paper basket nearer to him


then tore the letter up into tiny fragment S.
There was a knock on the gallery-door, and Lorraine
pushed the basket away from him.
Louis Comte entered the
room, and then Amurrat.
Amurrat:
You wanted us?
Lorraine :
Yes.
Amurrat:
With the dress rehearsal on?
Lorraine (rising): Yes.
The matter's urgent, you see.
He went across to the gallery-door, which Amurrat
had left ajar, and closed it tight.
The orchestra could be
heard from the stage below playing slow, melancholy music.
He returned to his desk and put the file containing Father
Michelon's letters back into one of the drawers.
Comte and
Amurrat watched him in silence.
Lorraine (glancing up at Amurrat): How is Jack going?
Amurrat:
He's a little slow, Albert.
I noticed that
this morning,
But he'll pull back into his
old style tonight.
Lorraine:
Iou think so?
Amurrat:
Yes. He's saving himself up perhaps.
Lorraine:
I expect you noticed that he was a sick man
this morning.
He was trembling a little.
You must have noticed that.
I'm afraid,
Benedict, that he has got himself into a bit
of trouble.


Both Amurrat and Comte looked at him in
surprise.
Lorraine:
I'm very anxious about him, and I'm
afraid that a catastrophe tonight is
possible.
That's why I called you
up here.
I want you to arrange an
alternative programne.
Amurrat (baffled by this): But he's down there
performing now, Albert.
Come and
watch him yourself.
He can't be so
ill.
Lorraine : (gloomily): I happen to know, Benedict,
he was very reluctant to go on that
stage this afternoon.
And I happen
to know there is someone in Paris -
perhaps more than one person whose
object is to break his will.
Believe me, he's not saving himself
up for tonight, he's using every bit
of strength in his body down on that
stage at this moment.
Naturally,


he looks slow, but he'll be slower to-
night.
I don't believe he will pull
back into his old style, Benedict.
Amurrat:
Well, I didn't expect this.
(Turning to Comte)
Have you heard about it downstairs?
Comte:
Everyone knows he was on the loose,
of course.
Lorraine:
I want you to arrange an alternative
programme which can be used at a
moment's notice.
But arrange it as
quietly as you can: I don't want to
discourage Jack, and he'd never forgive
me if he got word of it.
(Lowering his gaze)
All the others
need be told is that the time of his
performance may be altered and that
they must be ready to play out of schedule.
I shall see Nidok nyself later this
afternoon, since he would be


the mainstay of any alternative programme.
He paused and touched the edge of his desk.
Lorraine:
I don't see why Jack, Bernard or the Virgin
should get to hear of this.
(lore bri skly)
But I do hope to God there isn't going to be
trouble.
My business rivals in Paris i and
all over Hurope have a lot to gain if the
show fails tonight.
And I have many, many
rivals. I don't expect either of you know
much about my early days in the business when
I bought my first theatre, but I haven't always
been on top of the market and I haven't always
been able to outbid my rivals.
The show ton-
ight is the biggest I've ever attempted, and
I'm not prepared to take unnecessary risks.
If the show goes down we all go down.
Amurrat (quietly): But an alternative programme wouldn't
save the show.
It means nothing without Jack.
Lorraine :
Yes, Benedict, but the least we can do is to
save our faces, and an alternative programme
would help us do that.
(Rising) I won't keep
you any longer because of the rehearsal.
This will mean a very busy two hours before the
curtain goes up, I'm afraid.
Amurrat got up choughtfully and walked to the gallery-
door. There he turned.


Amurrat:
I hope you're not exaggerating.
Lorraine:
Whether I am or not, we can't afford to take
risks.
Amurrat:
Well, I hope you're wrong.
I've put a lot of
blood into this show.
Lorraine nodded and patted him on the shoulder.
They all went out into the gallery e
Lorraine:
I want you to visit me again at half-past four.
Comte:
Me as well?
Lorraine (watching them descend the staircase): Yes, both of
you.
The orchestra was playing a bold and loud march.
Lorraine looked down at the stage.
Hellebore was now perform-
ing on the steel wire, He sprang higher and higher to the
tune of the music, then rolled head over heels in the air
and returned feet first to the wire; sprang higher and higher
again, and rolled head over heels a second time. He now wore
only his vest and combinations.
Lorraine returned to the office and closed the gallery-
door.
He sat behind his desk for several minutes, his eyes
closed.
The music ceased, and there was a noise from outside
the gallery-door of ropes and pullies moving in the flies.


Scene 4:
The same, at a few minutes before four o'clock.
Hellebore jumped elear of the grand piano, which
the stagehands were wheeling off-stage, and ran towards the
pass-door.
He was dressed in his sequin cost tume, wi th
white stockings to his knee, and his face and hair were
saturated with sweat.
He went straight to his dressing-
room and began undressing behind the screen.
A mome nt
later Francine Berger entered, carrying his giant's shoes,
his spotted cravat, his yellow shirt and his outsize tweed
suit.
While Hellebore took a bath she laid out his costumes
side by side for the evening performance.
The orchestra was still rehearsing, but the stage
was once more bare, lit only by one arc-lamp in the wings.
None of the sceneshifters remained.
At ten minutes past four Hellebore léft his dressing-
room and went up to the Crimson Tower by me ans of a corridor
which ran along by the amphitheatre.
He was now in ordinary
clothes.
The Crimson Tower was empty and once more furnished
as the circle lounge.
He walked across to one of the French
windows, opened it and stepped down onto the balcony which
skirted the foyer dome.
It was no longer raining, and the
sky was thick with white cloud.
He went to the edge of the
balcony and looked down into the street.
A hansom-cab and
two motor-cars were standing outside the theatre doors, but
there were no pedestrians near them.


He went back into the Crimson Tower, then across
the Dress Circle to the foyer-balus trade which led round to
the amphitheatre and boxes.
The foyer was enpty and dark:
none of the lustres were yet alight.
He walked slowly down
the wide carpetted staircase to the box office and knocked
twice on the side-door.
There was no reply.
He knocked
again, waited for a moment, then went to the glass doors
leading into the street.
He tried then one by one, and
found the last one'open.
He walked out onto the pavement;
frowning and very pale.
He looked up and down the street,
which was a little less deserted than before.. The hansom-
cab and motor-cars were still there. He waited until a
number of people had passed by him, then he went back insi de.
He walked down the steps to the door leading inc o the pit.
The light of the street had blinded him and he could not
find his way down the [entre gangway to the stage.
The front
curtain was now down, and only a few of the footlights were
The orchestra had departed, and nothing could be heard
throughout the auditorium.
He walked slowly down the
centre gangway, his left arm extended, feeling for one of
the pillars which supported the circle above,
Half way
down to the stage he quickened his pace and immediately
stumbled.
He slipped forward and hit his thigh, then his
stomach, on one of the arm-rests on the left-hand side.
He steadied himself by holding onto the back of a seat, then
he sat down and rested.
He waited until his eyes were


accustomed to the light, then he went slowly up to the stage,
through the pass-door and back again to his dressing-room.
Francine turned and looked at him anxiously when he
entered the room.
He sighed and went to the divan, where
he lay down.
She walked across to him andi looked down at
him, then wiped the sweat from his nose and brow with a
handkerchief.
Francine:
You're still ill, aren't you?
Hellebore (his eyes closed): I can't keep steady on my feet.
It's no good, I'll never be able to do it
tonight.
She sat down at his side.
Francine:
But what's the matter?
Tell me what's the
matter!
Hellebore (shaking his head): I'll come a cropper tonight ;
you see.
He opened his eyes drowsily and looked at her, then
touched her chin with his hand.
Hellebore:
Now you keep quiet about that, Judy.
The telephone bell rang, and Francine answered it.
Francine (listening): Very well... I shall tell him.
She laid the receiver down and turned to Hellebore.
Francine:
Albert Lorraine asks you to go up immediately.
You are twenty minutes late.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Francine brought
over a small cloth saturated with Eau de Cologne and rubbed


it over his brow and neck, then he got up and went to
the dressing table, He gazed at his face in the mirror,
first at his drowsy, bloodshot eyee, then at his mouth,
He raised his eyebrows and moved his mouth a little,
B0 as to make his expression appear less gloomy. He was
etill pale. He went to the door and opened it.
Hellbore : (turning) Did anyone call uhile I was away just now?
Francine: (for face averted) No.
Hellbore: And there waen't a phone message?
Francine: No*
Hellebore: How does the tine stand?
Francine looked at the alarm clock on the chest-of-dramers
behind the soreene
Franeine: Twenty-five minutes past four,
Hellbore nodded sadly and left the roome He walked up
to Lorraine's offige end went in vithout knocking.
Bernard Charpentier sat behind
desk, and Lorraine
himself was standing nervously by the windowe
Charpantier held an empty glass in his right hand.
Charpentier: Come in, Jack Pudding, lie are twenty-five minutes
late, and I'm just off.
He gazed at Hellebore with a smile, his eyes half-closed.
Lorraine: He's been at it since four o'olock, Jack.


Hellebore (eitting down): What, this time of the afternoon?
Charpentier (rising and pulling his cloak round his shoulders):
Yes, hell in the belly, heaven in the head,
my eternal biurcation, Jaok.
He swayed a little, then put his empty glase
on Lorraine's desk.
Charpentier: My headlines violate, Jaok. They are a public
indecenoy. You look 1l1. And my kidneys
I think it's my kidneys. (Standing near Hellebore,
looking down at him) Well, you are now a French
institution 1ike the Bourse. The War hae
institutionalised you. Welve decided that between
us. It is not without significance that Hellebore
has chosen Paris as the acene of his return to
public life. He knows with what warmth he was
always, ever since he left the airous in 1901,
received in Paris. He remembers how, on one occasion
in 1911, he received twelve curtains from a First
Night audience. And he remembers the welcome
accorded him at the opening of the new Cirque Blanc
at Versailles. Albert Lorraine in private life
his intimate friend promised the theatrical world
at the beginning of the War that one day Hellebore
would return to the stage of the méatre de la Fete,
and it is entirely to him that we owe the present
visit. This first show is in the nature of a send-


off for a long continental tour across Spain,
Germany and perhaps Soandinavia, and it is to be
hoped that, the tour once over, Mr. Finstanley
will again visit Parie for a run at the same
theatre, lasting at the very least sis weeks.
Later in the year Albert Lorraine will probably
ask him to undertake a tour of French towns
including Rouon, Amiens, Aube, Orleans, Bordeaux,
Toulouse and Perpignan; of these tome only two
Rouen and Toulouse will remember former visits
from Hellebore, both of them in 1908, It was
largely with Hellebore's visit in mind that a year
ago Albert Lorraine made certain alterations in
the structure of the Theatre de la Pete. The roof
above the stage was lifted to make more flying
space, and the stage iteelf was built baok to give
it twice the previous depth. More epace is now
atailable in the wings, the 1ighting sytem has
been overhauled and brought up to date, and there
are twenty new dressing-rooms and offices. There
is now a modified revolving-stage system and twice
as much space as hitherto in front and underneath
the stage * These alterations favour the extra-
vagant shows, and Albert Lorraine intende henoe-
forward to use the Théatre de la réte for pantomimes


large-scale music-hall programmes from London,
and for cirouses. It will be remembered that he
opened the theatre in its new state with Monty
Erane's Circus: elephants, tigers, seals, horses,
dogs, trapeze-artists and jugglers performed quite
oomfortably on this stage, though six yeare' before
the same troupe found its run almost impossible
for lack of amenities and epace. The present show,
like Monty Brane's Cirous, takes every advantage
of the alterations. Thus, Hellebore's visit is,
as it were, a christening for the new Théatre de
la Potes There, that's what we've deoided. And
now I must rush,
He went tomards the door.
PAr
Charpentier (stopping): Jou're quite certain, Jaok, that nothing
ought to be said about your retirement during the
War?
Hellebore:
No, leave that out of it.
Charpentier:
It's a shame, Jaok. I had a lot of little lies
to tell about that. They'11 be told in time,
of course, by the other journalists. (To Lorraine)
I don't like Eiselheim, Albert. But I suppose I
shall have to mention those packed houses at
Brussels. I don't like these thin, silent men.
They walk about like my conscience. They shame
the infidel in me,
perhaps that's it.


Lorrainet
Nell, it could do nith sheminga
Charpentiert I shall be there tonight in the second rou
of the stalls as usual, Jaok, your acolyte.
Thank you for the flames of hell, Albert.
I teel excitedt a good eign.
He bowed to each of them in turn and
left the rooms
Lorraine glanced hesitantly at Hellebore.
lorrainet
How aid the rehearsal go?
Hellebores
I ras steadier on my feet. (ion-commitally)
But you'a better ask Amurrate
He got up and seemed about to leave
the room, but then 1ingered.
Hellebore:
I'w glad we agreed with each other in the end.
You've been good to me, Alberte Ison't let
you downe
Lorraine looked at hin wretabedly.
Cnt PITT


Lorraine (in embarrassment):
How do you feel now?
Hellebore:
Steadier, as I said.
He went to the door, and Lorraine followed him.
Lorraine:
Is there anything I can do for you?
I'll
take you back to the hotel in wy car. I'll
call in at the dressing-room just before I
leave.
Shall I send the nurse up to your
rooms this evening?
Hellebore:
Why?
Lorraine:
Just to have a look at your temperature.
Hellebcre:
Alright, thena
I must go.
I've got this
appointment in the Crimson Tower.
Lorraine gazed at him helplessly, his mouth open,
as he left the room.
Immediately the door closed he went
towards it quickly, as if to call Hellebore back, then he
stopped and went slowly back to his desk.
Hellebore went down to the foyer again and f ound it
empty. He again knocked at the box-office door,and there
was no reply. He visited the Crimson Tower, and that also
was empty. Ho returned to his dressing-room and looked in.
Hellebore:
Has anybody been?
Francine :
Not a soul, Jack.
He returned to Lorraine's office.
Lorraine was
again standing at the window.
Hellebore (in a low voice):
He didn't come.
Lorraine (guiltily):
Who?


Hellebore:
Sangson.
I must see him again, what shall
I do, Albert?
Lorraine walked towards him, his eyes on the floor.
Lorraine:
Tell me, Jack.
What makes you want to see
him so badly?
Hellebore (eagerly): I feel sorry for him, - that's the
trouble.
Lorraine: :
Yes, we're all at our weakest in our compassion-
ate moments.
Hellebore:
Sometimes a look came into his eyes as if he
was
thought
going to be cruel to hin.
(Seeing Lorraine's smile) I should have made
a few sacrifices for Edgar, - at the right time.
Lorraine:
Why not make a sacrifice of your whole career,
now?
It looks to me as if that's what your
young friend wants.
Hellebore shook hishead, as if this were too absurd
to think about.
Lorraine :
After a life like yours, Jack, failure is going
to be a very bitter thing.
You could never
survive it.
He gazed at Hellbbore for a moment under his eyebrows.
Lorraine :
He was afraid to come.
He smelt a rat.
have had experience of such people.
Hellebore looked at him sleepily.


Hellebore:
When all is said and done I did murder Eagar.
You've never had a son.
You're too selfish.
You're too fussy to have a child of your own.
You don't understand the young.
You make them
feel awkward, you make them go silent and shy.
I've noticed it.
All you think about is your
business.
You sit on your money like an old
black beetle.
Lorrai ne (turning away): What a comf ort your conversation




Scene I: Les Anges at seven o'clock the same evening.
The dining-room was empty end all the tables were leid
for dinner.
There were no lights apart from those which
illuminated the plaster statues in the niches.
Hellebore opened the door quietly. He stood still,
growing accustomed to the darkness. He walked to the table
on the higher tier where Sangson and he had sat the previous
evening. He walked slowly, tapping his gane against the
table-legs.
He laid his hat and cane down on the table and opened
his overcoat, then walked back to the steps which led into
the ballroom. He peered down into the deserted ballroom,
listening. He snapped his fingers and coughed.
There was
silence agein.
A few minutes later Maria entered and looked about her in
the shadows. Hellebore immediately went towards her. He
took her axm and slowly guided her up to the table on the
second tier.
Maria:
I haven't kept you waiting?
Hellebore: Not at all.
He pulled a chair out for her and they sat down,
Mariat
We looked for you everywhere this morning,
Hellebore: Who did?
Maria:
Henry and I. We walked up to the Place Vendome,
and then we went back to the club.


Hellebore: I don't remember leaving the club.
Maria:(peering at him in the darknese): Is that a bruise on
your chin?
Hellebore: Yes. I fell on the side of the bath. I just
slipped.
Maria:
It haen't swollen, luckily.
Hellebore gazed down into the dark ballroom.
Hellebore: Do you know where Sangson is?
Maria:
He came into the house about an hour ago, but
we didn't see each other.
Hellebore: I arranged to see him this afternoon. He didn't
came, and I thought perhaps you knew why.
Maria:
No, he went strai ght. to: his ro pou.
They sat without speaking for some time.
Maria:
He is sometimes strange like that.
Hellebore (quietly) He knows all about you, doesn' 't he?
Maria (a little startled) Did he tell you anything about me,
then?
Hellebore:(glancing down at the table) He told me you wanted
a child. And he said.you'd chosen me as father.
Is that true?
Maria (with a light gasp) Yes.
Hellebore: And you've come here to ask me to give you a
child?
Maria: (her head bowed) Yes. - But he had no right to tell


you anything.
Helledore; Well, he has saved you a lot of emberrassment.
Asking me yourself would have taken some doing.
(warmly). I shall give you your baby, Maria,
because I loved you last night dancing round that
floor.
Maria:
Thank God, then!
Hellebore: But not in cold blood, only because we like each
other. I went it to be natural. It musn't be
too soon. Dancing wi th you made me feel I'd
known you a long time. Dancing always does that.
But try and forget you asked me. Let it happen
naturally.
Maria:
We must see each other very often, You must be a
kind of husband to me.
Giordano will go awey.
Hellebore: Where was he last night?
Meria:
He went home.
Hellebore; Alone?
Maria:
Yes.
Hellebore: Will he mind?
Maria:
He needs a child as much as I do, and we've
waited so long,
Hellebore: But why have you wai ted all this time -a fine
beautiful woman like you?


Maria:
I wanted to wait until I chose someone spontaneously
I don't want anybody's child, you see. I want a
certain kind of child. And I think you can give
me that.
Hellebore (fascinated by this) What made you choose me, then?
Maria;
Well, I simply chopse you ** as soon as I saw you.
Hellebore: Why?
Mari a:
Everybody knows who Hellebore is. I only had to
see you in the flesh.
Hellebore: Does Giordano agree?
Mari a:
Yes. He knew I had made up my mind before I told
him. (With a smile) He was cleverer than he
normally is in these things,
Hellebore: And you never thought of Sangson as a Father?
Mari a:
He is so young. He is like my own son. I love
his company, of course.
Hellebore: You are together a lot, I suppose.
Maria:
Yes, we see each other every day. He is so
different from Giordano's friends. He notices
everything. He's so quiet.
Hellebore: And a wond erful talker.
Mari at
Yes, he has been my refuge against all those
commercial people since the War. (with a sigh)
Well, I feel happier.
She glanced at the clock in the wall on her left, but it


was too dark to read the time.
Maria:
Shouldn't we be walking towards the theatre?
I've sent the car away. (Watching him) You
seem so calm? Are you always like this before
you go on?
Hellebore: I was sick this morning and I neerly fell off
the trapeze. I'm tired, (Putting his hand to
his brow) I'm not calm, I'm tired. Think of
all those people watching me tonight.
He stared at her with a frown. She rose slowly and
went to his side,
Maria:
You'll feel better in your dressing-room. (As he
got up) Don't forget your sti ck,


Scene 2:
The Theatre de la Féte a little later.
Francine Berger entered Hellebore's dressing-room.
She went across to his table and began arranging his crean-
pots, brushes, rouge-sticks, powder-puffs and scissors.
Beside them she put a large napkin and an alarm clock.
Some minutes before eight o'clock Hellebore came in.
He smiled at her, and she helped him off with his overcoat.
He went behind the screen and took off his jacket, then he
washed his face and hands.
He sat down at the dressing-table
and, with the napkin tucked round his neck, began creaming
his face.
The telephone bell rang.
Francine (answering it): Yes, he has just this minute
arrived.
(Listening) He appears to be.
(Listening) I shall ask him.
She put her hand over the mouthpiece and turned to
him.
Francine:
It's Albert Lorraine.
He wishes to know if
you'd like the nurse to come in and see you.
Hellebore (impatiently): No.
Francine (at the telephone): He says no, but thank you.
(Listening) Making up at the moment. Very wel"
She put the receiver down, and Hellebore creamed hif
cheeks briskly.
Hellebore:
What else did he have to say?


Francine:
He asked what time it was when you arrived and
whether you seemed well.
Hellebore:
He has been a proper fidget-arse today. He
has done nothing but wory.
Francine:
Well, do you wonder at it?
You were drunk
last night and this morning you were too ill
to move.
It would make any manager in Europe
worry: especially when you always used to be
so good and reliable.
The foyer was empty and dimly lit.
Two of the
entrance doors were suddenly pushed open, and Jean and Pierre
Duloi-Bordeau entered breathlessly from thes : treet.
They
ran down the centre gangway of the stalls and made for the
dressing-rooms.
At the conductor's rostrum Jean suddenly
stopped and turned about: he called to Pierre to go on,
then he returned to the foyer.
He walked across to the Bost
office and knocked on the side-door.
Lorraine turned the key in the office door and wnat
back to his desk,
He sat down beside Eliza, his own chair
touching her's at the arm.
She was dressed for the street
in a black cloche hat and a simple coat with a collar of black
fur.
Nothing could be heard from the corridor outside or
from the stage.
Lorraine laid his hand on her arm without turning his
head.
Lorraine Cimost in a whisper): You aren't contented with


Eiselheim. You won't be young eternally.
You are thirty-four, my dear, and you want
children.
You do want childrén, you need them,
a strong and clean girl like yourself, Eliza.
I'm so unbearably sad when you're away from me
I love just to be with you, simply to touch
your arm like this. I want your smells, I
want to feel you close to me, I want to look at
you and look at you, I want to bathe and satur-
ate myself in you.
I wish I could be worthy
of you, I wish I was better-looking.
I wish
I was cleverer with my tongue.
(Persuasively)
But you see, my dear Eliza, you'd change me.
If you took me you'd give me a new life and
will, whereas now I am helpless, I feel old,
and I am always sad nowadays, and it seems to
me I have no future, nothing new or warm for
me between now and my death.
You have the
power to give me a future.
Without you I'm
so miserable, I enjoy nothing, except thinking
about you.
I yearn for you, Eliza, hour after
hour, waking and sleeping, day after day.
All my dreams are about you.
I dream and
dream and dream about loving you, and again
and again I imagine to myself what I would t ell


you and how I would touch your body if you
took me.
I dream of you lying in your bed
and the dawn coming across the room,
But if
you refuse me what you really do is to condenn
me to death, and I shall go through the rest
of my life like a corpse;
I shall be alone,
a bachelor ministering to himself.
I want
to : offer you everything I have, for you to
destroy if you wish.
He clasped her arm tighter but still he did not
glance towards her.
Lorraine:
Help me, Eliza.
I'm so deeply in love with
you.
Eliza:
I can't bear you to talk like that.
It makes me feel so helpless.
I never
tried to make you fall in love with me?
I didn't, did I?
Lorraine shook his head.
Eliza:
I never tried to be with you more than
with anyone else in this theatre.
haven't been more charming to you than
to other people.
I can't bear you to
talk like that.
It doesn't alter


either of us when you say these things,
At the end of it we are still separate
from each other, and I can still do nothing
to help you,
I wish with all my heart and
soul I could help you, darling, because my
pity for you is like a real pain.
could sleep with you, my dear, but that wouldn't
make me love you: there is nothing anybody
in the world could do to make me love you.
Do you understand me?
Lorraine nodded.
Eliza:
I'd marry you tomorrow if I didn't know
quite well that it would make me wretched
and miserable, and that you would realise
my wretchedness and then blame yourself
for causing it:
That would be an insult
to you, a beastly insult I could never
undo, and you'd suffer worse than you are
suffering now by my refusing you.
would make you hate yourself, or else you'd
come to hate me, and I won't risk that.
Lorraine:
We don't Imow that until we've tried... You
may be wrong.
You might grow to love me,


or does that sound absurd to you?
Eliza:
No. I wish it could be true.
Lorraine:
Perhaps a child would bring us love.
You
can't tell unless you take the plunge.
Eliza:
I can tell.
You must trust the woman to know.
He glanced at her.
Lorraine:
Your mind is made up, isn't it?
Eliza:
Yes.
Lorraine (wearily): So I need never ask you again.
Eliza:
No, my dear.
Lorraine (in hopeless gloom): I thought you would have
agreed.
I truly thought this time that you'd
agree. Of course, you are in love with Jack
still.
Eliza:
That was a dream I had ten years ago. Now
and again it come E 4 . back.
I can't forget him,
that's true, but I have been without him so
long that I take it for granted and I no longer
worry him.
The trouble he had with me was
exactly the trouble I am having with you.
He wanted to help me and - couldn't, he loved me
as a friend.
So I do know what it is like to
be you at this moment, and it's a torment for
me knowing that I'm the cause of it and can do
nothing about it.
She bent her head forward and sobbed, then with


helpless cries she began to weep.
Lorraine moved his hand
down to hers' and murmured: "Eliza, Eliza," his eyes averted
from her and narrowed to pr event tears.
Francine:
I must speak with you about tomorrow.
She took a light wicker chair from behind the screen
and sat by the dressing-table, facing Hellebore,
In her
hand was a small appointment book,
Francine:
When will you see the masseur?
Hellebore:
I won't.
Francine (with surprise): He is expecting to come e
Hellebore:
I don't need w (indicating her book impatiently)
all that.
Francine:
But you usually have the masseur.
Hellebore:
Not tomorrow, though, or the next day.
Francine:
Very well.
(With a glance at her book) Also
the doctor usually calls on the second morning.
Hellebore:
I don't need a doctor.
Cancel him.
Francine laid the book down on her knee and looked
at him with a frown.
Francine:
There are thirty appointments for you in this
book.
Are you going to cancel every one of
them?
What is the matter with you?
Hellebore continued to powder his face.
Hellebore:
When I'm off the stage my time is my own.
Francine:
It did not use to be.


Hellebore:
I won't have a retinue of masseurs and doctors.
They make me feel dead, they make me feel a
prisoner.
Francine closed her book and smile d.
Francine:
Very well.
That will surprise some people.
Hellebore:
Yes, a few people are going to catch a cold
over that.
Francine:
I thought a full appointment book made you feel
proud.
Hellebore:
It used to, sweetheart.
But that was before
the War.
Francine went behind the screen and Hellebore began
painting in his immense red lips.
Hellebore:
Listen to me, Francine. I shan't want to
use this room again.
This is the last time
I dress in it.
Francine came to the edge of the screen and looked
at him in silence for a moment.
Francine:
Why is that?
Hellebore (leaning back from the mirror, studying his lips):
I don't feel at home here; I don't feel myself a
It gives me nasty feelings.
(Hunching his
shoulders up as if cold) That sort of feeling.
So you must tell Lorraine about my little fancy
and then you mst find me another dressing-roam


before tomorrow night's performance.
Other-
wise I'll dress in the corridor.
Francine:
But this is such a beautiful room.
Hellebore:
Yes, it's like a mortuary.
Francine:
Lorraine will be hurt's
Hellebore:
It will teach him not to build me a mortuary
and call it Le Salon Hellebore.
Francine (peering at him): You have changed, you know.
Hellebore (touching up his lips) I've had too much of it.
I built myself a gymnasium during the War, in
the gardens of my house.
I think I'll burn
it down when I go back; that would give me
pleasure, you know.
I even had Japanese ch erry
trees planted along the sides of the path
leading down from the house.
And at night
there were fairy lights hanging from them.
lairy lights...
Francine:
Do you regret it now?
Hellebore:
I no longer need it, so I say to hell with it.
I told Lorraine this morning I'd like to burn
this room down and I'd begin with the curtains.
Francine:
They are the loveliest things in the room.
Hellebore:
I'm going to travel from now on and I shall go
on travelling until I wear myself out.
But
I'm not going to be stuffed alive by Lorraine
or anybody else.


Francine:
Your secretary arrived from England this
afternoon.
What about her?
Hellebore:
I don't need her, sweetheart.
What's the
use of a secretary when there are no appoint-
ments to keep and no letters to write?


Someone knocked on the door of Lorraine's office,
but neither he nor Eliza moved.
Lorraine:
Who is it?
A voice from the corridor answered: "Duloi-Bordesu. I
Lorraine tumed to Eliza end shrugged.
There was still
her
the trace of tears on KES cheeke,
Eliza (rising): I must go, We can't sit here for ever.
I'll go down by the other door.
Lorraine looked ill and distraught, end he rose
heavily from his chair without a word. He accompanied her
to the door which led ento the wooden gallery. Just before
she went out she leaned towards him and offered him her
cheek to be kissed. But he shook his head with a sad smile
and drew back a little, then took her hand in a formal hand-
shake.
As he closed the door behind her Duloi-Bordeau
knocked a second time, Staring before him, Lorraine walked
aeross to the other door. He put his hand on the knob, but
then he turned away and went towards his desk; half way
there he stopped agéin, then walked to the gallery-door.
He leaned on the gallery-bannisters and gazed down
at the stage.
The curtain was down, and only a battery
of dim russet lights was switohed on at this moment.


Bénédict Amurrat walked from the wings on Lorraine's left
to the centre of the stage where Louis Oomte was standing.
Lorraine watehed them talking together. Then he raised him-
self and walked down the wooden stairs, his eyes still aghast.
He held the reil vight as he walked. Amurrat turned and wat-
ched him. He called out "Bon soir!" but Lorraine failed to
hear him. At the foot of the staircase he turned and caught
sight of Comte and Amurrat. He nodded to them wretchedly,
As he passed Amurrat he stopped.
Lorraine:
Ie Eiselheim about?
Amarrat:
Who?
Lorraine:
Eiselheim,
Amurrat:
Yes, I saw him a few minutes ago outside his
dressing room. I think I saw him.
Lorraine walked away before he finished speaking.
Just short of the stone steps leading from the stage
to one of the property rooms, he met Helen Eugenie. He
stopped and tried to smile et her.
Hel en:
What has been happening to you?
Lorreine:
Why, a how do I look?
Helen:
You look sick.
Lorraine:
I'm a little tired. Is Eiselheim well?
Helen:
Yes, very well.
Lorraine (absently): That's the style.


Helen:
There's something about him today, à I dan't
know what. It's as if he's going to do better
tonight than he has ever done before. I can
alwaye tell when he feels sure of himself.
He nodded quickly to her and passed on. - He went
down into the properties room and across to a corridor
leading into the new wing. He walked past Hellebore's
dressing-ro om and ascended the stairs back to his own office.
Duloi-Bordeau was still standing outside the door.
He seemed astonished to see Lorraine.
Duloi-Bordeau (staring at him): I could have sworn I heard
your voice inside there.
Lorraine nodded, but did not look directly at him.
He took a key from his pocket and opened the door. They
entered the office,
Duloi-Bordeau: But I could have aworn it.
Lorraine (without interest): I went out by the other. door.
Duloi-Bordeau (seating himself) ;Isee, Yes,I'd forgotten that
other door.
Lorraine stood by his desk in silence for several
moments.
Duloi-Bordeau (hesi tating to break this silence): Well, we
saw him.
Lorraine made no reply.


Duloi-Bordeau (humbly): I've only ten minutes to dress in,
you see,
Lorraine watched him.
Lorraine:
Yes, tell me about it as qui ckly as you can.
Where is he?
Duloi-Bordeau (earnestly): We let him go.
Lorraine (sharply): Why did you do that?
Duloi-Bordeau: Well, if appearances are anything to go by he
was an honest young man, We asked him all the
questions, and we told him to keep clear of
the theatre tonight. We told him he was sus-
pected of this and that, but we didn't say who
suspeoted him, And what more could be done?
We couldn't lay hands on a polite and educated
young man like that.
Lorraine:
When you told him about my suspi cions WEE he
alarmed?
Duloi -Bordeaut No, he said it was # ridiculous, and he laughed.
Then he said he could understand our point of
view very well
Lorraine:
Our? Who is we?
Duloi-Bordeau: Mine and Pierre's. You told me not to
mention your name.


Lorraine:
Was he well dressed?
Duloi-Bordeau: Most respectably. He took us to his house
near the Bois de Boulogne for an aperitif.
Lorraine:
Does he own a house?
Duloi-Bordeau: No, he shares house wi th Italian people called
Celida.
Lorraine:
Oh, yes, the jewellery people.
Duloi-Bordeau: We couldn't lay hands on a young English
gentlemen, could we? Where would that have
ended?
Lorraine with anxiety): But I don't feel safe. Suppose he
came to the theatre tonight and caused
trouble?
Duloi-Bordeau: We know what he looks like, And we know that
a box has been reserved in the name of Celida
for tonightt.
Lorraine: -
Ah, you found that out, did you?
Duloi-Bordeau (with pride): Yes, I looked in at the box-
-office on my way up.
Lorraine:
It might have been better to hold him....
Duloi-Bordeau: But that would be a criminal offence.
Lorraine (biting his lip): Even so.


Duloi-Bordeau: No, there would have been hell to pay for
that.
Lorraine:
He must know someone in this theatre.
Duloi-Bordeau: Oh, he does.
Lorraine (swiftly): who?
Duloi-Bordeau: Mademoiselle Berger.
They*re lovers.
Lorraine:
Who told you that?
Duloi-Bordeau: He did.
Lorraine:
Lovers! (With a shrug) Well, he told you that
himself so perhaps it's all above board.
That's the feeling you had in his presence,
was it not? that he was above board?
Duloi-Bordeay: If appearances are anything to go by, yes.
Lorraine:
You'd better go down and change, then. On
your way tell the attendants at the stagedoor
not to admit any personal visitors for Mr.
Finstanley.
Duloi-Bordeau: I think you worry too much.
Goodbye.
Just as Duloi-Bordeau left the room Lorraine picked
up the telephone receiver.
Jacques clapped his hands and ushered the girls of
the dancing chorus onto the stage.
A powerfuls battery of
yellow lights in the fizes was switched on, then two plain
arc-lamps in the wings.
The girls formed two lines in front
of him, then following his example they began taking up one
dancing posture after another without piano accompaniment


They were dressed in blouses and short frilled skirts of
black lace, with black stockings. On their right legs, just
above their knee-caps, there was a single silver garter two
or three inches in width,
Some yards behind one of the arc-lamps in the winge
Nidok, in a yellow, black-edged dressing-gown, handed a stage-
hand his two doves,
The attendant held them over a basket;
they fluttered down into it, and he closed the lid. At that
moment a call-boy ran down from the wooden staircase and
handed Nidok a message. Nidok read it, spoke a few words to
the stagehand and went behind the back-drop to the wooden
staircase. He went up to Lorraine's office.
Lorraine was sitting behind his desk, huddled up,
resigned and silent.
Nidok came across the room and shook
his hand, but he barely moved.
Lorraine:
They found Sangson, and it appears e I only
say it appears - as if we made a mistake.
Nidok:
So you didn't detain him?
Lorraine:
No, they let him go.
Nidok:
Wisely, I think. But why did we make a
mistake?
Lorraine:
It appears he behaved like any English gentle-
man.
But
But
Nidok MAtMaN a A hiel
: they are sometimes the worst
sya haasf
criminals oprptas you know.


Lorraine (peering at him): You aren't convinced, then?
Nidok:
Convinced by what?
You haven't told me
enything. You haven't told me, for instance,
why he called on Finstanley at such an odd
hour last night,
Lorreine:
No, I forgot to ask Duloi-Bordeau about that.
Nidok:
I've no doubt he convinced Duloi-Bordeau,
though.
Lorraine (with fresh anxiety): I wonder if there is going to
be any trouble? - I wish to God I knew what
these people were up to. I've sent down a
description of Sangson to the attendants at the
stagedoor. But perhaps we ought to have held
him, oriminal offence or no criminal offenoe.
He sighed and shifted in his chair.
Lorraine:
Something ie going to happen. It doesn't mat-
ter what Duloi-Bordeau seys. I can feel it.
I've been feeling it all day: that something
is going to happen tonight.
This is the
worst First Night I have ever known in my life.
There is something in the air d I can feel it.
I tell you, Eiselheim, I'm terrified of to-
night. (Glancing at the door, then leaning


forward, lowering his voice) Jaok's going to get
the bird. 5
Nidok (abruptly): We can't tell that before he goes on the
stage.
Lorraine:
No. (Witha reminiscent smile) All I have
are my premonitions. (With sudden remorse) Why
in the name of God am I letting him go on to-
night at all? He's a sick man, I told him
this morning I was postponing the performance
I had everything ready: what has happened
between this . morning and now to alter my plan?
Why is he going on? I can't tell you, It's
so obvious that he shouldn't be going on, What
has happened during the day to alter my plan?
I can't remember, Eiselheim. These last few
hours have gone pest like a sleep. (Pixing
Nidok with his eyes) Can I stop him now? Such
things have been done before.
Nidok:
How can you turn awey two thousand people? No,
if Finstanley is about to end his career, let
him do it in good style. Let everybody see it,
let everybody know it for certain,
that
Hellebore is finished once and for all. Then
there '11 be no question of further contracts.


There'll be no more worrying on future First
Nights. Take him off the programme tonight,
and tomorrow you'll be blaming yourself for
having done it: you will feel that after all
he mey have done well if you'd let him go on.
I believe in letting a man go to his ruin if
that's what he wishes to do,
Eiselheim's lips. were pursed as he spoke, and he
gazed at Lorreine with clear, knowing eyes.
Frangine, standing behind Hellebore at the dressing
table, fitted a wig carefully over his haad. It was a wig
with ample ginger tufte at each side and a white bald petch
between.
As she pressed the edges down the telephone bell
reng. She leened forward over Hellebore, keeping one hend
securely on his wig, and took the receiver.
Françine:
Yes..... a I shall come at once.
She replaced the receiver slowly and looked at
Hellebore through the dressing-table mirror.
Hellebore:
What's the matter?
Frangine:
Lorraine wante me to go up and see him at onee.
Hellebore (brusquely): At onoe? No, you're needed here.
What's he up to?
Frang çine :
He said he wouldn't keep me from you more than
a few minutes, end it's urgent.


Hellebore:
Run along, then.
She took off her smock and tidied her hair in his
mirror, then left the room, He pressed at the wig in the
nape of his neck and got up. He went behind the screen and
took off his shirt. He set down to undo his shoes, then
held his white pierrot's costume with the pom-pom buttons
up to the light.
There was a knock at the door and someone entered
the room. Lorraine's voice called out, "Jack?"
Hellebore (recognizing Lorraine's voice): Hullo, she's on
the way up. She left just this minute.
Lorraine:
Who?
Hellebore:
The Virgin.
Lorraine:
Oh, yes, but I thought I'd slip down and tell
you the news.
Hellebore:
You sound miserable. (Slipping the cos tume
over his head) What news is this?
Lorraine:
The Virgin and your young friend Sengson are
lovers, Jack,
Hellebore (surprised by this): How do you know?
Lorraine:
Birds, It makes it all the more suspicious
to my mind,
Lorraine paused. He looked down at the powder-puff,
rouge-stiok and lerge ebe ony camb on Hellebore's table.


Lorraine:
I have never trusted that girl. (Turning away
to the door, in helpless misery) I shall sack her.
Hellebore (quietly): Don't you sack that girl, Albert.
Lorraine;
I shall see you later, We must talk about it.
He left the room, On his wey back to the office he
buttoned up his jacket, re-arranged the carnation in his
button-hole and smoothed back his hair. When he reached his
office-door he drew himself up a little, then entered the
ro om.
Françine Berger was elready there, sitting between
his desk and the window,
Françine:
Good evening.
Lorreine: (tersely, going straight to his desk): You happen
to be a close friend of a young men called
Sangson, Do you mind telling me why he called
on Jack Finstanley last night?
Françine stared at him as he sat down, hermouth a
little open, She seemed about to reply, but said nothing,
Lorraine:
You do know, don't you, that he called on Jack
Finstanley last night at the hotel, and that
Jack Finstanley was il1 this morning and
perhaps unfit to perform toright * because of
that visit?


He spoke and looked as if he were suffering pain.
He gazed not into her eyes but above her head at the wall
behind her.
Françine : (in an awed whisper): I knew he went to the hotel.
But I don't know why he went.
Lorraine:
What was the point of visiting hin at midnight?
Francine (bewildered): I don't know.
Lorreine:
And why talk to him about his son? Why make
him feel that he had murdered his son? Wasn't
there a better time for all this?
Françine:
I knew nothing about his visit until this after-
noon.
Lorraine:
But presumably his intention was to break the
man's heart, wasn't it?
Franpine: (coldly, her anger rising): I don't know. I suppose
he wanted to tell the truth,
: what he
thought was the truth, But that's only my guess
and my guees is no better then your's in this
metter.
Lorraine:
And by what right does one man tell another man
the truth, by what right? Let him keep it to
himself.
Frengine:
Sangson is a friend of mine, but I'm not res-
ponsible for what my friends do.


usapit
Lorreine:
But in a way, you see, you are responsible.
For instance, you told your friend where Jack
Finstanley's hotel was, and you told him what
hours he kept, and'you told him when he would
be arriving. in Paris.
Françine:
I didn't think he'd use what I told him.
Lorraine:
No, I'm not suggesting you did think. But I'm
suggesting you think now, and tell me by what
right and with what intention this young man
decided to put his nose into the affairs of
this theatre.
Frangine:
I know nothing about his intentions.
Lorraine:
What had Jack Finstanley done to deserve that
talk about murder?
He never harmed anyone
during the War.
Frangine:
Sangs on and Jack are grown men. They can look
after themselves. You talk about them as if
they were children in need of protection.
Lorraine:
Yes, well, it strikes me that your.young
friend is a child and that other people like
Jack Finstanley do need protecting against
him. Like a child he doesn't know when
to hold the truth inside him as a secret, and
when to tell it. Like a child running to


fat ther he runs to Finstanley with the news of
his guilt. Had he been a religious child a
as I was a religious child - he would have gone
to confession, and that would have been the end
of it, Instead, he used Finstanley as his
priest, - with consequences which I have to
mènd as best I can.
And who was he to judge
Finstanley?
Whonis any man to judge another?
A priest would have told him to cleanse himself
before he set about trying to cleanse other
people.
Françine: (with a shrug) Oh, I dan't understand it.
Lorraine (severely): But I want you to understand this: that
I dislike the idea of any of my employees intro-
ducing meddlers
dangerous meddlers - to my
best artistes. I have been thinking of asking
you to leave this theatre for that reason.
Frangine (shocked by this): I've nowhere else to go. My
parents are dead.
Lorraine:
Then it's all the more important that you
understand me : I won't have my artistes inter-
fered with. As you know, I'm rather a sus-
picious man, I have to be; and I feel your
Cont. P aa6.


young friend is up to something, though it
isn't likely you'd tell me exactly what it is
he's up to. (With sudden anger) Enormous
fortunes depend on these artistes of mine,
en orm ous fortunes and the careers of hundreds
up on hundreds of people, and I won't have
these - these boys coming forward and imputing
crimes to men with a thousand times their
distinotion.
That's all I have to say.
Françine rose, looked at him with curiosity for a
moment, then left the room.
He stared after her, pale
and furi ous .
Lorraine (between his teeth): Des gosses, alors d -
The foyer and the wide balustrade behind the fress
Arcle were now crowded.
Silver and crims on lights, designed
like five-pointed stars, shone from out of the glass dome
above the foyer.
The noise of cars and hans am cabs in the
street could be heard whenever the entrance doors were opened
Giordano and Maria Celida arrived ten minutes or
so before the curtain was due to go up. They followed' an
attendant to the end of a long carpetted corridor which ran
along the side of the auditorium, and there they were ad-
mitted to a box at the very edge of the stage. Giordano,
slipped a few coins into the attendant's hand, then followed


his wife nervously to a seat. Maria Celida gazed without
embarrassment at the stalls, which were now half full with
people, but Giordano averted his eyes and coughed into his
hand awkwardly.
Maria (watching a. group of people take their seats below):
You are beginning to stoop when you walk,
Giordano.
I noticed it this evening for the
first time. (Facing him suddenly) You are
going to take it badly, aren't you?
Giordano (his eyes lowered): No, my dear. And even if I do,
it's my choice, I shall have to go through
with it.
Maria (wat ching his mouth): Yes, but it doesn't make me
feel any more comfortable. I would far
rather you went away (with a vehement glance
at him) right away for a week, or a month, so that
could
you/put your mind to other things.
Giordano:
Well, I am going away.
Maris:
Yes, but you aren't anxious to go away. You
want to stay with me till the last moment.
(wi th warm compassion) My poor Giordano, it doesn't do you
any good to brood.
Giordano:
I shan't brood once I am out of Paris.
Maria:
Are you really g oing?


Giordano:
Of course I'm going. I told you I was going.
I have booked my seat on the train. Don't
you believe me?
Maria:
Oh, I thought you might find it too hard to
leave me,
Gi ordano:
Well, I've booked, as I say. The train leaves
soon after eleven o'clock. I shall find it
unpleasent, but I shall go.
Maria:
You look ill, my dear. (Zaying her hand on his)
Think of the child. Don't think of Hellebore,
Giordano withdrew his hand and nodded politely.
She continued to watch him.
Maria:
Why do you tomment yourself by coming here
at all?
There was no need. We shall see
each other when you come back to Paris. We
shall have a lovely holiday and we'll go
everywhere together from morning to night. An
hour or two makes no difference. Why do you
want to came here and torment yourself with
the sight of him?
Giordano:
How do you know I shall be tormenting myself?
Maria (in a low voice): I think you will be.
Giordano:
Yes, I suppose so. But I decided to go about
everything as usual, I didn't tell anyone at


the shop I'd be leaving. That's a job for
you tomorrow.
Maria:
You are coming to the party, then?
Giordano:
Yes. But I shall leave you there and go to
the station alone.
Maria (anxi ously): You're not going to brood, are you?
Giordano:
Maria:
You look so ill, my dear. Grasping his hand).
Let's leave Paris together and go down into
Italy and- forget all about Hellebore, a if
you want to. I'll come with you if you want
me to!
Giordano:
No, we must go through with it. I hate thdse
delays,
Maria:
But I can't bear to think of you brooding, my
dear. If you want me to I'll leave this
theatre now and we'll pack our things and go
away from Paris and forget all about Hellebore
and adopt a little child from an orphanage.
Giordano:
No. I want the child to be your child.
He pushed her hands away lightly, as if to dis-
courage her gesticulations. He turned half away from her


in his chair and looked at the audience below, calmer now, .
Giordano:
You get yourself a child. I'll look after
myself.
Maria:
You won't blame me for anything?
Giordano:
No, of course not.
They gazed in silence at the members of the orches-
tra who were taking their places.
Giordano:
Who'll be at the party?
Maria:
Oh, theatre people.
Giordano:
I've no right to ask fidelity of you, A at
any time. I've taught myself to think that,
ever since I married you. You're not obliged
to be faithful to me because I'm not really
your husband.
Maria (in a low voice): Yes, you are, My religion says you
are -
Giordano (glancing up at the fallery and then at the chan-
delier over the auditorium): I shall W orry about one thing
while I'm away.
Maria;
What?
Giordano:
Suppose you no longer want me once you have
slept with him?
Maria (bitterly): That's impossible.
Giordano:
Why?


Maria:
I don't know why.
Giordano:
I'll tell you why its possible: because a
waman with any life in her at all feels a strong
last
last
tie to the man who/takes her to bed, a
especially to the man whofgives her a child,
(With a cunning glance at her) What do you think?
Meria:
I shall be doing it for the child, * and nothing
else.
Gi ordano:
But the child will be a tie. You'll see the
father whenever you look at it.
Maria (with a sigh): Very well, then, we 'l1 leave Paris toge the:
and we'll forget about him, This was your plan
as well as mine, remember.
Giordano:
No, we must go through with it. I only wanted
to know what you think.
Maria:
Well, I think you are talking nonsense.
She took a programme from a chair next to her and
broke its peper seal. She opened it and laid it in front of
her.
Maria:
You seem to forge t my religion. My religion
wouldn't allow me to forsake you, it wouldn't
allow me to stay with him, even if he wanted
me to.
Cont. P.233


Giordano:
Yes, but it's small comfort knowing you'd
only come back to me out of a sfnse of duty
towards God, or something. (With another
cunning glance) Won't you be coming back to me
out of a sense of love?
She looked at him in surprise, then turned to look
at the curtin agein,
Maria:
I want you to believe in me, Giordano. Other-
wise everything's finished, isn't it?
Bernard Charpentier took off his cloak in the foyer
and handed it to one of the attendants. He went up to the
balustrade behind the dress circle and leaned over the parapet,
He gazed down at the groups of people in the foyer and
watched the doors open and close,
Hellebore was dressed in his white pierrot's
costume, end his feet were bare.
His nose was now painted
red; he had large red lips and thick semicircular eyebrows,
and the rest of his face was chalk-white,
He went to the mirror and pressed a tiny contrap-
tion under his costume at his left thigh: he watched the
ginger hair on his wig stand up on end, quiver, then fall
back into place again. He did this twice more, watching
his hair intently through the mirror.


He picked up his tweed suit from the table behind
the screen, then his sequin costume, then his outsize shoes,
then his morning suit with the detachable tails: he peered
closely at each of these articles in turn.
Hellebore:
What about that tear in the sequin?
Frangine came from the dressing table and took the
sequin costume.
Sh- showed him a place under the left sleeve
which had been perfectly repaired.
Hellebore (with a smile): How clever you are.
Frangine:
Shall I do the neck-frill?
Hellebore nodded and sat down. She took a needle
and white thread from a small mahogany work box behind him
and began sewing up a little tear at the back of his goffered
neck-frill.
Hellebore :
He upset you, didn't he?
Frangine;
(Tossing the hair out of her eyes): He
frightened me. I have nowhere else to go. He
knows that. He knows he can frighten me.
Hellebore:
Don't worry. I wouldn't allow it, I could
employ you myself,
Françine: (her eyes narrowed) But still, it makes me feel
unsafe. I thought he liked me.
Hellebore:
He'll come round to you again. But you must
give him time.
Time is all he needs. (Biting


his lower lip) By the way, he said you were Sangson's lover:
is that true?
Françine:
Yes, but it must have been his own guess.
Hellebore:
I don't want to interfere with you. I only
asked out of curiosity. Are you going to
marry him?
Françine (off her guard):
We've never SI poken to each other
about it. (Pausing, with a frown) No, we
shall never marry. We are drawn to each
other, but ageinst our wishes perhaps.
are never really intimate together, we are
too strange to each other. We just explore
each other,
Hellebore; :
Would you like to marry, - yourself?
Fran gine:
No, I don't think so. I think I am happy alone,
I have my work here, and I don't feel I need
children.
Hellebore :
Are you sure?
Françine: (flushing slightly) Yes, quite sure. *
Hellebore:
How did you get to know Sangson?
Frangine:
I met him/ during the War, when I was a nurse.
He came to my casualty station.
Hellebore:
Was he wounded, then?


Françine :
No. His nerve had broken. I remember when he
came in he was shivering and staring like a
man with acute frost-bite. In peactime we
should never have got to know each other; we
are too different. But soon after he came the
War ended and there was very little work for
the nurses, so we talked to each other and
then travelled to Paris together.
Hellebore:
Why did his nerve break?
Frangine:
Oh, soldiers were always losing their nerve *
(Reluctantly) But he put it down to your son's death.
She cut the white thread and put back her thimble
and needle in the work-box.
Frangine :
There, I've finished.
Hellebore took from the table a pair of white socks
and a pair of white slippers with a pom-pom on each,
Hellebore:
He brought home Edgar's death to me last night,
you know.
Frangine:
Yes, so I believe.
Hellebore:
He frightened me, too. His words fightened me.
He made me feel like a murderer. Well, I told
Lorraine this eveningt I em a murderer, I did
kill my son.
Until Sangs son spoke to me last
night I hardly realised I had a son, (Turning


suddenly to look at her) Do you think he's a clever young
man?
Frangine: (smiling at his expression) Yes, I think he's
clever. Why do you ask?
Hellebore (thoughtfully): Well,. I ask because I think an un-
educated man 4 as I am uneducated ae can some-
times have. the wool pulled over his eyes. I
have to be careful, you see; I meet so many
educated people.
Nidok glanced thr ough a peep-hole in the curtain at
the audi ence and watched Bernard Charpentier take his place
in the second row of the stalls.
Nidok
Nidek
(with an ironical smile): Monsieur Gobe-Mouches,
alors!
He touched Helen Eugenie's arm and pointed Char-
pentier out to her: she smiled, then mimi oked Charpentier's
frown, drawing herself up imperiously.
A red light above the switch-boards went on and off,
and the orchestra struck up into a quick waltz. Two stage-
hands began sweeping the : stage from the left to the right, and
as they passed behind them Nidok and Eliza Manning walked
slowly into the wings. Four flats descended slowly onto
the stage, two at either side, and were pushed into position.
A backdrop curtain coloured plain yellow was then lowered from


the flies.
Several sceneshifters stood waiting for it,
then steadied it as it approached the boards. Two cables
were drawn out of sight, and a step-ladder was taken back
stage.
Louis Comte, standing under the switchboard, ordered
the stage to be cleared.
Hellebore heard the orchestra strike up, and he
started.
Hellebore :
'Blige me, what's the time?
Françine:
I put the clock on the table,
Hellebore (turning): So you did,
He looked across at the alerm clook on his dressing
table. The time was fifteen minutes past eight. i
Hellebore:
That band gave me a turn. I thought it was a
good deal earlier.
Françine:
Well, you're perfectly ready. How do you
feel?
Hellebore: :
I can't feel anything at all, (Rising) Feel.
Are they cold?
He laid his fingers on her cheek, She drew back,
Françine:
They're so'cold!
Hellebore:
Well, I can't feel them.
Françine (also rising): But it's hot in here.
Hellebore went to his dressing-table.


Hellebore:
Lorraine and Charpentier designed this room.
But they forgot a simple thing like a clock.
They could have had one fixed onto this table
of mine.
That would have been just the idea.
I had a. clock with green hands in my old room
d'you remember? I used to have a round table
covered wi th signed photographs and old pro-
grammes pasted on the wall, if you remember.
What happened to those things,- do you happen
to know?
Frangine:
I think they were burned when the old dressing-
-rooms were demolished. But perhaps they are
downstairs am ong the cld junk.
For a moment the stage was empty.
Jaques entered
from the right hand side.
He turned and impatiently clapped
his hands to hurry his chorus girls forward from the wings.
They entered the stage talking and laughing, passing Jaques
wi thout looking in his direction. They took up their places
in two rows, and Jaques went among them tidying their frilled
skirts.
He then walked into the wings and nodded to Bénédict
Amurrat.
The girls waited, patting their hair and talking
to each other.
The orchestra ended its waltz. The chandelier in


the auditorium faded out and the footlights were switched on,
The audience stirred and those who had been standing in the $
gangways took their seats. The wall lights, then the smaller
single lights in the roof, faded out,
Louis Amurrat looked at his watch and turned to the
electrician at his side, A long battery of red lights in
the flies were switched on, so that the backdrop curtain in-
orange.
stantly turned from yellow to a deep ghevie
Two arc-lamps
shone from the wings. The electrician pressed a switch at
his side and the orchestra struck up into a quick ragtime
tune. The red light above the ewitchboard switched on and
off three times. The chorus girls stood ready, their heads
lifted high. Jaques went forward from the wings and raised
his hand.
The moment he lowered it they joined arms and
began the first dance, with smiles on their faces.
The curtain slowly rose and the chorus girls were
dancing in two rows, their frilled skirts rising and falling
as they kicked out their legs.
Jean and Pierre Duloi-Bordeau hurri ed down to the
wings in their black dressing-gowns. The rest of their acro-
batic troupe
two women and a young boy came close behind
them. They talked loudly to each other as they hurried
al ong the stone corridor.
The dance ended a few minutes afterwards and the


curtain dropped rapidly to the boards. During the applause
the orchestra struck up into a military march,
Jaques ushered the chorus girls off the stage,
smiling and patting their'shoulders as they passed. The
yellow backdrop curtein rose swiftly up into the flies: the
ladders, cables and chains behind it were : cleared awey.
Again the stage was swept.
Two trapezes were lowered to the
level of the stage, and a ladder, a jumping-box, a steel
see-saw and a tall structure wi th cross-bars and platforms
for the acrobatic tableaux were brought on. A long mat was
unrolled and a white back-drop, much further back than the
previous one, was lowered.
The Duloi-Bordeau acrobatic troupe handed their
black dressing-gowns to the attendants and ran together onto
the stage.
They cartwheeled, somersaulted and hend-walked
along the mat, while the two women went straight to the
trapeze and were lifted, seated on the cross-bars, to places
just short of the proscenium arch.
The red light ab ove the switchboard went on and off
three times. Jean, Pierre and the boy stood ready on the
mat, the women on their trapezes, smiling, The orchestra
struck up again, and the curtain rose.
Hellebore put on his white slippers.


Hellebore (in a quiet voice): He said he'd be in the Crims on
Tower at four o'clock this afternoon. But
he didn't come *
Frangine:
You invited him?
Hellebore:
Yes, at the club last night.
Françi ne :
He said nothing to me about it. Perhaps he
knew IT would have forbidden it.
Hellebore (glancing at her sherply): Why?
Françine:
Well, I thought he upset you last night. And
he might have done the same again just before
your performence. You can't deny that he
did upset you.
Hellebore:
Oh, yes, he upset me. (Eagerly) But I wanted
another telk with him, Françine. I had a
lot to tell him. He's a fine talker, you
know, Why didn't he come?
Frangine:
I've no idea, Jack.
Hellebore :
When did you last see him?
Frangine: (after a little hesitation): This afternoon. He
left my room about half-past two or three,
Hellebore:
Where did he go?
Frengine:
To Signor Celida's shop in the Concorde.
Hellebore:
Then why didn't he come? I invited him last
night.


Frangine (gazing at him calmlz): Why are you so anxious
about it?
He got up and walked towards his dressing table.
Hellebore :
Oh, he's just the sort of young man who gets
himself into harm,
Frangine :
But what sort of harm?
Hellebore:
Well, an accident or * I don't know exactly
what. He has a frightened look sometimes,
don't you think so? (Puzzled) I feel res-
ponsible for him, more than I ever did for
Edgar. He neede someone to look after him.
Do you take enough care of him?
She began needleesly rearranging the costumes.
Frangine (sadly): He has enough care taken of him. He's got
me, and Signora Celida, and now you. #
T/ONVHMEOR
Hellebore :
Is he in the audi ence tonight?
Françine :
Hellebore :
Good.
Françine:
Why?
Hellebore:
I don't know why.
Françine; :
Do you think you're going to make a mess of it?


Hellebore:
Oh, I don't know!
Françine :
You won't make a mess of it. You're so calm,
like you us ed to be before the War.
Hellebore:
That's because I know I will make a mess of it.
Another talk with Sangson tonight might have
made me feel better. It was my fault Edgar
died, you see! I wish I could go back into
the past. I'm alone, Frangine, There's no-
body to help me *
Things were different be-
fore the War. I could depend on other people.
I trusted Lorraine, Everybody laughed more,
they weren't so selfish and suspicious.
(Turning and staring at Frençine). Everybody's waiting for
me to do something wrong. They're all watohing
me, That's what it feels like, I've.got no
real friends.
Frangine:
You've only been in Paris a few hours, so how
can you tell?
A muffled sound of epplause came from the auditorium.
Françi ne :
Listen to that. They aren't unfriendly. It's
a good house tonights
Hellebore (diseansolately): Well, if I get the bird I shan't
try again, Once is enough for me.


There was a hushed roll of drums as Pierre Duloi-
-Bordeau put his hends on the soles of Jeen's feet, leaned
forward and then jumped swiftly up into a hand-stand. Jean
wes lying undernea th him on his back, with his knees fully
bent over his chest. When Pierre was quite steady the boy
eame forward with a short steel ladder. At its base were
shoe-like attachments. Carrying the ladder, he put his
right foot on one of Jean's knees and climbed slowly onto
Pierre's shoulders. He then lifted the ladder so that
Pierre could fit his feet into the shoes. When it was balan-
ced at a slight angle he climbed further up until he had his
foot on the first rung.
The drum-roll ceased. There was
ei lence, and the group remained quite still. Jean called
out: "Allez!" and the boy began very slowly to climb the
ladder. He reached the top rung and gripped it with both
hands.
There was another ery from Jean, and the boy raised
hims self slowly into a hand-stand,
The bass-drum sounded
out and amid the applause the orchestra started up again.
The trapeze-girls swung to the floor by means of
ropes. The boy came down from the ladder, and Jean and
Pierre jumped to their feet.
The troupe bowed low and the
eurtain fell.
Hellebore sat before his mirrof again and put the
finishing touches to his face,


There was a knock on the door and Lorraine entered
the room, neater than before and in evening clothes. His
lips were pursed and white with nervousness,
Frangine came ty from behind the sereen, then immed-
iately wi thdrew when she saw who it was. Hellebore lowered
his head and glanced through the mirrot. He laughed.
Hellebore:
Look at this, Frangine: a call-boy in tails!
Frangine went to the fireplace at the opposite end
of the room. As she passed him Lorraine turned awey, delib-
erately showing her his back,
Lorraine:
(To Hellebore) How do you feel?
Hellebore (powdering his forehead, where the wig was fixed)
Better then you do, I dare say.
Lorraine sat down on the divan-bed and si ghed,
while Françine put fresh logs on the fire,
A muted bell in the wall behind the sereen rang
three times, and Françine went hurriedly to the door and
held it open for Hellebore. As she did so an immense roar
of applause sounded down the corridor from the wings above.
Hellebore had a last look at his face, then rose,
A call-boy ran down from the stage to the dreseing-
-room and was just about to call out to Hellebore when
Lorraine got up from the diven and, without looking directly


at him, waved to him to go away. The boy stood still in
the corridor for a moment, daunted and frightened, then ran
back to the stage.
Hellebore left the dressing-room followed by Lorraine
and Frengine. The bell behind the screen rang again as they
reached the stone steps leading to the pass-door. Hellebore
walked slowly, his eyes. on the ground: Lorraine seemed in
pain, end there were large beads of sweat all over his brow,
As Frangine pushed open the pass-door a great hot breeth of
air rushed out to them from the wings.
The orehestra was playing again, and sceneshifters
were running noisily to and fro, across the stage, One of
the two trapezes used by the acrobatic troupe had been raised
out of sight and the other moved a little more to the centre.
The mat was rolled up, and the steel see-saw, the ladders and
the jumping-box were quickly taken off into the wings. When
the stage was alear the garlanded staircase for Hellebore's
turn was brought on and a section of the stage reised against
it to form a balustrade. Hellebore's backdrop was slowly
lowered in front of it.
This backdrop curtain was black, and diagonally
across it, from corner to comer, there was a huge Christmas
rose with dark green mottled leaves and a very deep red bloom.


As Hellebore oame into the wings the stagehands and
electricians drew back to make way for him. They watehed
him as he walked towarde the switchboard and stood there alone,
Bénédiot Amurrat ren from the other side of the stage and
shook hands with him. Hellebore smiled at him calmly, then
looked about him, at the stagehands in the wings, then at
the stage, as if the soene-changing deeply interested him.
He stood quite still and spoke to no one #
The ramshackle piano was now wheeled on, end the
wire was made taut between its stays. on either side, Two
stagehands brought on a chest-of-drawers, and the tiny
bowler-hat was lowered from the flies.
The red light above the switchboard shone three
times, and the orhestra played the finel chords of its waltz.
The last scene-shifters ran off the stage, and a great battery
of lights up above was switched on, then the two arc-lamps
on either side of the stage. The audi ence grew quiet, end
the red light above the swit tchboard shone once more *
The stage was now empty and Amurrat turned with a
smile to Hellebore. Throughout the auditorium there was utter
silence, and the curtain slowly rose,.
Hellebore continued to gaze at the stage, lost and
helf-smiling. A few Beconds passed, end he remained there,


Amurrat ran to his side,
Amurrat (in an urgent whisper): The tabs are up, Jack.
Hellebore turned and stared at him sternly, as if
he were trying to recognise his face. Then he nodded a little
drowsily and went to the edge of one of the flats at the side
of the stage. He carefully put his hand round its edge so
that his fingers would be visible to the.audience, Then
he leened forward and peered round the flat at the auditorium,
so that now the fingers of his right hand, and the whole of
his head were visible. There was a long sighing xoise from
the audience. He started, his ginger hair rose and fell
mgr
qui ckly, and in en instant he withdrew his head and hand.
Laughter went across the auditorium, from the stalls to the
gallery, and died away.
Hellebore walked slowly onto the stage in his white
pierrot's costume. The audience clepped this entrance, but
he did not look in their direction. As silence fell again he
began strolling about the stage, staring casually at its
furni iture, e first at the piano, then up at the trapeze and
the taut wire, then at the huge Christmas rose a cross the
backdrop curtain, then at the chest of drawers and the bowler-
-hat. He stared at them inquisitively, but he seemed afraid
to touch anything. The audience wes watching him very closel


He went towards the piano and bent down to have a
look et its legs. But in the.act of doing this he seemed
to become aware of the audi enee for the first time. He
slowly raised himself up again and cast a quick side-glance at
them. Then he turned his face in their direction, his jaw
fell, his hair again rose and fell; he became rigid with
panio and looked wildly behind him, He was just about to
flee towards the black curtain when he seemed to grow calm
again: he came towards the footlights wi th his former casual
walk, stering down int o the pit, Just short of the foot-
lights he seemed to reel, and a lightlaugh came from the audi-
torium. He stood quite still, end the theatre was again in
utter silence. For many seconds he did nothing, then seemed
about to topple forward into the scorching footlights, but
held himself back in time, The audience was not certain
what he meant by this and continued to watch him closely,
wai ting for the laugh,
He peered into it as if he were trying to make out
the faces) He stood still, legs astride, looking down into
the pit.
Then he seemed to shudder. There was the sound
of whispering in the wings. Someone backstage shouted.
Hellebore turned quickly to the left,
The moment he did.so
he lost his balance. He begen toppling forward. Suddenly
his eyes alosed and tears poured down his face. He collapsed


onto his left shoulder, then turned over onto his back,
The audience wes just about to laugh but the ourtain fell
repidly, and the orchestra struck up into loud, gay music,
The bottom of the curtain strack the boards only a few inches
from Hellebore's head.
Stagehands and electriciens ran onto the stage. Two
of them lifted Hellebore clear of the drop-ourtain, and
Amurrat shouted for a stretcher, Hellebore was not unconsoiow
He leened forward on his right elbow, weeping and shuddering.
Amurret tried to lift his head to look at his eyes, but he
pushed him av way, A stret cher was brought, and one of the men
clasped him under the arm-pits. At this moment Hellebore
opened his eyes agein and, looking down, saw one of the hands.
He watched it with en expression of terror, - Then he looked
up at the men's face,
Hellebore (deliriously, as he wes laid on the stretcher):
There's blood on your fingers.
The man let go of Hellebore's shoulders. He stared
down at his own hand, then at Hellebore suspiciously.
Comte:
It's all right, he's delirious.
The stagehands were about to carry him backstage
when Lorraine ran in from the wings, He was in his shirt-
-sleeves. His arm-pits and the greater part of his sleeves
were drenched with sweat. He pushed the stagehands aside


and went to the stretcher.
Hellebore lay there with his
eyes closed, breathing heavily.
His powder was smudged,
and there were red marks across his forehead. There were
also stains on his neck-frill, and one of the pom-pom
buttons on his costume was missing,
Lorraine (to Amurrat, shouting): What happened?
Amurrat:
Nobody knows! He isn't hurt!
Lorraine (turning to a stagehend): Oall the nurse! (To
will the
other
Comte) Get on/ with the other programme.
mogramme.
Comte ran into the wings, and onee more the scene-
shif ters begen clearing the stage, The stretcher was laid
down behind one of the flats on the left-hand side. Lorraine
walked over to the stretcher-bearers, shouting to them as he
came.
Lorraine:
No! No! Take him straight down to the
dressing-ro om!
But at this moment the nurse eame onto the stage.
She waved smelling salts under Hellebore's nose and laid a
oold towel across his forehead.
He was still sobbing and
shuddering a little as he lay on the stretcher.
The trapeze was drawn out of sight, and the stage
was once again alear, The chorus girls crowded together
behind a flat on the other side of the stage, waiting to go


on, and a few yerds in front of Hellebore stagehands were dis-
mantling the steel-wire,
The cold towel revived Hellebore, and he suddonly
started forward in the nurse's arme, Amurrat bent down to
him immedia tely.
Amurrat:
What happened, Jack?
The beckdrop curtain with the Christmas rose left
the stage end ascended slowly into the flies, and behind it
Hellebore's garlanded stairoase: was being dismentled. He
looked aghast et the rising backdrop, then at the chorus-girls
and his stripped staircase,
Hellebore (with horri fi ed astonishment) Stop them doing that.
Stop those girls coming ons
Amurrat:
lt's the other programme, We mustn't waste
time, Jack,
Hellebore pushed the nurse's arm away and jumped up
He stered et Amurrat.
Hellebore :
What happened?
Amurrat:
You just fell downs
Hellebore:
Well, get my etuff on the stage again.
Lorraine came forward from behind the stretcher and
took Hellebore's arms Hellebore turned,
Hellebore (wildly, looking from Amurrat to Lorraine) Who's
runing another progremme?


Lorraine:
You're ill, Jack, Look at yous (Hardly able
to speak)
I knew you'd do this,
Hellebore:
I'm not illt (Shaking his head violently)
I don't know what happened, I don't know
what happened!
He grasped the lepel of Lorraine's waistooat.
Hellebore:
Stop them.
Lorraine:
No, I'm powerless to do that now, a
Hellebore:
Stop them.
Lorraine shook his head mutely. Hellebore watched
his steel wire go loose and fall to the ground, them with his
chin thrust forward, he strode aeross to the other side of
the stage and shouted something to Jaques in English. Jaques
drew back in fear, not underst anding the English. His
him
him/
ohorus girls were wai ting together behind Maletn, and the
yellow backdrop for their turn was just about to be lowered.
Hellebore pushed at Jaques wildly, and Jaques fell against
one of the flats with a shrill ory.
Hellebore (to the girls) Allee! Allee!
He stretched out his arms and pushed against them,
so that they moved back as a crowd. They screamed and
shouted to Amurrat, and some of them fled through the pass-
-door. Lorraine and Amurrat ran up behind him and pulled
him back, Most of the sceneshifters were now standing still


wat ching the group,
Hellebore: :
I'm going on again.
Lorraine:
You've made that impossible, Jack,
Hellebore:
Listen to me, I'm not leaving thie stage
tonight until I've done my turn, You can run
another programme if you like, but I'm not
leaving this stage, I'll go out in front of
that curtain and do my turn in the pit, if
you like. (To Comte, in the w ings) Call the
Virgin!
He turned and faced the stage. He looked at the
sceneshifters who were dismantling his staircase and shouted
up at them,
Hellebore (tapping his own chest) Hellebore! Hellebore!
(Pointing to the chorus girls on his right) Non la danse!
Amurrat (hesitantly): Are you going to let him try?
The sceneshifters watched Lorraine, wai ting for a
decision. The sweat was still pouring from his brow, He
looked Bad and troubled.
At last he nodded. Some of the
Bceneshifters groaned with annoyance, and Lorraine walked
back into the winge with Amurrat, shaking his head sadly.
Lorraine:
We're finished, Bénédict. I knew he'd do
this,
Amurrat: :
Suppose it goes wrong again?


Lorraine (with resignation): Oh, it will go wrong. But I'm
going to let everybody see for themselves he's
finished, I don't care what it costs me, but
no one is going to tell me after this that I
stopped him going on. If he wants to ruin
himself in front of two thousand people, let
him. Not a manager in Burope is going to
touch him after this. That was Eiselheim's
advice to me this morning: let everybody see
for themselves he's finished. And it's going
to cost me six hundred thousand france.
Françine ran through the pass-door carrying rouge,
a powder-puff, a brush and a mirror. Once more Hellebore's
backdrop was lowered to the stage and the stays for his
steel wire erected. A stagehand brought him a chair and
placed it near the switchboard, He sat down and smiled,
watching his scenery return.
Françine quickly powdered
and rouged his face again, too nervous to speak,
She painted
in his thick eyebrows and rubbed white powder into the stains
on his neck-frill.
Lorraine left Amurrat and walked behind the scenery
to the stairs leading up to his office. He climbed slowly
up, in resigned despair.
He stood still on the gallery


for a moment, panting heavily after his olimb, then he went
into the office and slammed the door. He sat down at his
desk. He wiped his brow end closed his eyes.
Hellebore's scene was once more in place. The
last ste agehands re off the stage, and the music came to an
end as the red light shone three times.
Hellebore stood
behind one of the flate as before. The theatre was in
silence again, and slowly the curtain rose,
Hellebore entered from the right and walked drow-
sily across the stage wi thout looking at the audience. He
strolled to the piao and deftly played a little tune with
his right hand.
Suddenly the lid fell smartly down on his
fingers and he gave a terrified jump in the air. There was
loud laughter, as if with relief.
He ran to the centre
of the stage sucking his fingers. Then he uttered a long,
wild yell of pain.
He stopped, and seemed surprised at
his own voice.
He yelled again, experimentally, and agein
listened to his own voice, Then he began to weep. The
tears poured down onto his pierot's costume. They grew,
until they were two thin sprays of water from the corners of
his eyes.
He stood still for a moment, and again there was
utter silence throughout the theatre.
Suddenly he ran back to the piano, flung the lid
up, and began playing furiously, jumping up and down as he


played.
Then there wes a deaf ening explosion, the piano-
-pleying ceased, and neither he nor the piano could be seen
for a great cloud of white smoke,
This cloud went slowly upwards, and after a few
seconds he,became visible at its edge, reeling and stumbling,
his pierrot's costume in rags,
One tuft of ginger hair
hung down OV er his right ear, his slippers with the pom-pom
buttons were missing, and benea th the regs of his dress, a
red and yellow striped vest and yellow pents were now
visible.
Slowly he recovered his balance, and the. su oke
cleared away.
He glanced malevolently at the piano, then caught
sight of the chest-of1-drewers on the right hand side. Its
top drawer was slightly opens He went towards it self-
-righteously and pushed the top-drawer home, but instantly
the lower drawer came out. He stared down at it, and his
one tuft of ginger hair rose and fell, He bent down,
pushed the lower drewer hone, and this time the second drawer
struck him a blow on the head and he somersaulted backwards.
He junped up again and stood looking at the chest from a
distance, He went towards it, kicked the middle drawer
home with his foot and then ran wildly to the other side of
the stage,
There, behind the piano, he turned and looked


back. All the drawers were now shut.
He walked back again. He smiled, and pointed to
the tiny bowler-hat. He took it and tried it on. He
grinned shyly at the audience, then huddled up his shoulders
and giggled.
An idea struck him, He laid the hat down
agein and ran over to the piano, He opened the main lid end
brought out a huge hend-mirror two or three feet in length.
This he took over to the chest-of-drewers. He put the
bowler hat on again, leaned against the top drawer and
simpered in front of the mirror.
Suddenly the top drawer
came out and stnuck him smartly onf the shoulder. He yelled
out with pain and fell straight on his back. The huge
hand-mirror toppled to the ground as the bass-drum sounded
out. He lay rigid for some time, then slowly, daunted and
frightened, he got up e He looked about disconsolately for
his hat and found it immediately in front of the lower
drawer. He went to the side of the chest, with his back to
the audience, and kicked the hat towards the back of the
stage, Then he walked round behind the chest. Just as he
was about to pick the hat up, it moved a little further to-
wards the centre of the stage. He stared at it, his head on
one side, Again he bent down, and again it moved away a
He pondered, chin in hand, Then he walked round to the other
side of the hat and again bent down, This time it came


towards him, he chuckled and gathered it like a hen into his
hands - He put it back on his head and began strutting about
the stage - But as he walked towards the footlights it rose
into the air slowly end remained stationery three or four
feet above his head.
He continued to strut about, unaware
of this. He walked round the chest-of-drawers and struck
it vehemently with his foot as he passed.
The more the eud-
ience laughed, the prouder he became. He bowed. He walked
to the back of the stage, studied the Christmas rose on the
back drop, then returned to the footlights.
As he came
down the stage he caught sight of the bowler hat in mid-air.
He stopped short and again his one tuft of ginger hair rose
and fell.
Slowly he raised his hand to his head and found
nothing there.
He gazed bitterly at the hanging hat, then
made an absurd effort to reach it by standing on his toes.
He stamped his foot impa tiently and turned his back on the
audie ence. *
He walked away from the footlights, sighing deeply.
As he did so he caught sight of the steel wire. He
stopped and gazed upwards.
He turned to the audi enoe again
with a smile. He came to the fo otlights again. He pointed
to himself, then to the steel wire, his eyebrows raised. He
walked to one side of the prosceni Lum arch and began taking
off his torn costume fragment by fragment. He folded each
piece and carefully laid it down in front of the footlights,


and at last he stood in his striped vest and long yellow pants.
He went into the wings, and silence gradually fell on the
theatre again.
The orchestra began playing quietly. Hellebore
appeared on the wire at the right of the stage. He stepped
forward, lost his footing, almost fell and ran back to his
little platform wi th a loud cry.
He stepped onto the vre
again, and this time he ran precintately to the middle. He
jumped in the air end turned about, his feet turned slightly
outwards. He jumped higher and higher in the air as the
wire bounced up end down, and the orchestra took up his
rhythm, He somersaulted forwards in the air, holding his
knees. When he had reached a sufficient height he took two
forward somersaults in the air above the wire.
He jumped with
reckless confidence, crying out at the top of his voice, his
arms stretched sideways.
Sometimes he landed on his feet,
sometimes he landed at a si tting posi tion.
He moved his
limbs in the air with a wonderful swiftness and ease. He
preended t
took a backward somersault in the air,/missen his footing
on the wire and seemed about to fall straight down to the stage,
The orchestra stopped playing instantly, there was a crash
on the bass-drum, and Hellebore hung by his left arm on the
wire, his confidence gone, tears pouring from his eyes,
yelling out mournfully, his legs kicking wildly in space. He


tried several times to reach the wire with his right foot,
but feiled. He hung there by both hands, and at last he
managed by swinging his body upwards to grip it between his
feet. He pulled himself up, lay along the wire on his stomach,
steadied himself, then. lost his balance again and twisted
round underneath it. Again he dangled in space. But this
time he looked down and saw that he had no more than three
feet or so to drop. He jumped lightly down end stared
sulkily at the audience as they applauded him, He walked
to the footlights and lifted his chin defiantly. He had lost
his self-assurance. With sudden revengeful fury he threw
himself over into a forward somersault. He threw himself
onto his hands, then back onto his feet again, so that he
seemed momentarily to bend like a rubber dumny. He hand-
-walked round the stage, taking long, rapid strides, and
jumped to his feet with the orchestra's final chords. He
bowed proudly, showing himself off, Quiently confident again,
nis lips pursed, he began putting on his pierrot's dress.
He put on his left sleeve, then one of his trouser legs. He
dressed himself with dignity, caring for every little torn
fragment. A spotlight rested on him at the side of the stage
as he delicately fingered his dress.
With grotesque dignity he walked back across the


ste age. As he came towards it the tiny bowler-hat - which
had remained in the air - fell a little lower and came to
rest immediately in front of his head. He stopped and stared
at it. He stepped to the right, but it moved with him. He
walked forward end it slipped onto his head. He stopped,
then walked on again, and it remained with him. He ran
a few paces, and it was still there. He looked into the
auditorium and smled shrewdly. The curtain fell.
When it rose again the piano and the chest-of-drawers
were no longer on the stage. There was now a card-table
near the footlight and on it were a top-hat, a small beer-
barrel, a saw, a wand and en immense pack of cards.
Hellebore entered dressed in evening clothes that
were stained and many sizes too big for him. He had a.
starched front, and there was a red flower dangling from his
button-hole. He walked briskly to the table, He coughed
into his hand.
He picked up the immense pack of cards and
began shuffling them wi th astonishing swiftness, throwing
them up with one hand and catching them with the other. He
put them together again end ran his thumb along the top of
the pack, so that they made a loud smacking noise. He showed
the Queen of Heerts to the audience and then leaned/against
the beer-barrel with its blank side showing. He brought the


rest of the pack to the footlights and solemnly bent down.
He crouched over the pack, raised himself, stretched out his
arms, and the pack was gone * He turned round and walked
back to the table.
As he did so the oards fell loudly one
after another from the tail of his jacket onto the floor.
He stared down at them with horror, petrified in his tracks,
He unhooked the tails of his jacket and began inspecting the
pocket inside them for holes, Then he shrugged and threw
them wit th the cards into the wings - He returned to the table
a little glumly.
An idea occurred to him, and he smiled.
He picked up the card which was leaning against the barrel
and showed it to the audie ence, It had changed to the King
of Spades. He nodded persuasively as he showed it to them,
and giggled
He struck a match and lit a scrap of paper. He
put this lighted paper into a small box and wrapped it round
with a silk kerchief. He touched it lightly with his wand.
He was about to untie the kerchief, fingering it gingerly,
when thick smoke began to pour out of it. He hopped about,
hollering and throwing the box from one hand to the other,
then he ran to the side of the stage and threw it into the
wings * He hastened back to the middle sucking his fingers,
He bowed austerely.


He opened a small lid in the barrel and pulled out
one coloured silk after another.
He turned on the tap, and
nothing cane forth.
He held up his finger : shrewdly to the
audience and took his wand from the table,
He tapped the
barrel twice with this wand,
He turned the tap on agein,
and this time a red liquid flowed out.
He took a large
tumbler from one of his bulging pockets and held it for a
moment under the tap.
He raised it against the light and
stared at it.
He took a sip and immediately, with a
contorted face, spat it out.
He looked at the tumbler
defiantly but took another sip.
This time he nodded with
a smile and swallowed the liquid.
He drew an egg from his left sleeve, held it up
before him between his fingertips and then placed it on the
table.
He drew another from his right sleeve.
Nonchalantly he drew a number of eggs from his hair, his
seak
Seat
pocket and the berret of his trousers.
He hiccoughed.
The hiccough threw him forward a
little, and another egg rolled out from under one of his
trouser-legs.
He stood still, gazing down at the egg with
horror.
He tried to smile at the audience.
He waited,
seeming to listen apprehensively, and there was silence.
Again he hiccoughed, and this time three or four eggs fell
noisily from his collar, the cuff of his sleeve and one of
his pockets.
He remained standing in the same position,


with a troubled, ploading look.
Agaia he waited, and again
there was silence.
He had his head bent sideways, listening.
The moments passed and the hiccough did not comes He sighed
with relief and smiled graciously.
He returned to the table
and drew hinself ups
But just as he was about to pick up
his wand he hiccoughed agzin, andthis time a huge spotted
ostrich egg rolled quietly out of his trouser leg and came
to rest a few feet from him.
He first looked defiant, then wept.
He walked
furiously to the centre of the stage.
Then he turned
suddenly.
He went back to the table and began throwing
his properties into the wings with an immense clatter.
pushed the barrel onto the floor, rolled it into the wings and
then sent the table after it.
He dusted his hands off and
strolled smeentiently to the other side of the stage.
whistled crudely, his hands in his pockets.
As he strolled
about, bored and pondering, the lights began to fade, and
in a few noments the stage was in utter darkness.
His
whistling gradually became less forthright, then ceased
alt9Sether*
The orchestra began softly playing a polka, and
slowly the lights cane on.
He was standing in the same
position as before, but the stage had now been transformed.


There were now tall pillars on either side, and where the
black curtain with the Christmas rose had been there was now
the wall of a large ballroom, with gilt tables and chairs. He
stared all about him, turning round on his heels like a
wondering child.
Invisible guests came to being on the stage, and
he moved respeatfully among them. He re-arranged the red
flower in his button-hole and tried to smooth down the tufts
of ginger hair with the tips of his fingers. He wiped the
toes of his shoes surreptit ti ously on his trouser-legs as he
welked, smiling to someone whenever he did so. He listened
to a group of people gossiping, then he hinself joined in.
He gabbled silently, his head thrust forward, his lips moving
with an extraordi nery rapidity, his eyes darting this way and
that. He found a partner, smiled to her and bowed. They
began dancing together, and he became portly and solemn. He
took rigid little jumps up and down in the polka, holding her
hand high, A waltz followed, and this he danced alone, - The
music seemed to draw his limbs into movement, swooning end
dying away, then lighting up again. He moved with wonderful
sureness, delivered helplessly into the music. He danced
the Lancers, taking long, soft strides round and round the
stage, narrowly avoiding the other guests.
The orchestra stopped suddenly in the middle of a


ohord, and he was struck still. He looked about him, the
spell broken.
The guests seemed to draw eway. He became
panic-strioken at the thought of their leaving him. He ran
to the side of the stage to block their exit. He snapped his
fingers at them, blew kisses et them, clapped his hands and
pointed with pathetic gaiety onto the stage. But the orchestra
remained silent.
The pillars on either side rose slowly
back into the flies.
The ballroom wall gave place to the
black curtain again, and the gilt chairs and tables sank
underneath the stage by traps. Forlorn and sad, he walked
to the footlights,
He took an invisible apple from his pocket and
polished it on his sleeve. He took one bite, chewed it,
then ate the whole apple with fierce voracity, twirling it
round and round in his fingers.
He put his hands in his pockets again end walked to
the middle of the stage, staring at the floor.
There was
silence.
He whistled a snatch of one of the tunes to which
he had danced.
He danced a few steps and smiled to himself.
He sighed nostalgically, and there were two or three very
quick spurts of water from his eyes.
From somewhere behind him came the sound of soft
idyllft music, full of bird-notes. He stopped and listened.
He turned and as he did so the back-drop curtain rose into


the air,
Behind it was a sunlit balustrade with a narrow
flight of stairs leading up to it. There were three arches
in the Gothic style, and these were covered with wild
alimbing roses end other blossoms in profusion. Above the
three arches were written the words: "Le berceau de verdure
enchanté."
The branches of a willow-tree hung down onto
the balustrade, behind the arches.
He walked slowly up the staircase, gazing at every-
thing wi th his mouth open, At the top he began smelling
the blossoms. He smelt them like a giraffe, long-necked,
slender and inquisitive, He stood on tip-toe to smell a
particularly full flower. The idyll music ceased. He smelt
the flower, then wanted to pull it down. He grasped hold
of it, then pulled.
A flood of water instantly poured
down all over him, He yelled out.
It became a continuous
down-pour. He tried to struggle back down the staircase but
became entangled in the branches of the willow-tree. At last,
drenched to the skin, he threw himself out of one of the
arches, and in doing this he brought down with him to the
stage all the wild climbing roses. He stood weeping and
yelling among them, and the curtain fell,
There was a great roar of applause. Hellebore
change d quickly into his sequin costume at the side of the
stage.
The trapeze was lowered, and he sat on the cross-ber.


He was lifted up into the flies, and the ourtain rose again.
There was a pause during which the stage was empty, then
Hellebore came down from the flies on the trapeze in his
sparkling sequin suit. The applause grew louder, and he
waved his hand,
Lorraine opened his eyes and started in his chair.
He picked up the telephone.
Lorraine:
Get me the stage..i. Hullo... Hullo, yes # I €
What the devil's that noise? (Listening) No!
He put the receiver back and stared before him.
He got up and went to the gallery-door, and as he opened it
the applause grew louder, He looked down at the stage, The
curtain was at that moment up and the stage empty.
Then
Hellebore came cartwheeling from the wings in his sequin
costume. He jumped to his feet just short of the footlights
and bowed.
The curtain came down agein and Hellebore
etrolled to the side of the stage. He dabbed his neck wi th
a handkerchief. Amurrat ran forward and shook him by the hand.
Lorraine went back to his desk and put his jacket
on. Then he went down to the stage by the wooden staircase.
Hellebore took off his wig: and slipped between
the folds of the curtein which two attendants were holding
back for him,
The applause grew into a huge roar as he


appeared under the yellow spotlight in his sparkling sequin
dress. He bowed low with the wig in his right hand.
Behind the eurtain sceneshifters were putting up
the cage for Nidok's act.
Its walls were about ten feet
high, with spikes at the top curving inwards, Nidok stood at
the side in evening clothes and a top hat. He stood very
still, watching the sceneshifters at work. Behind him stood
Eliza and Helen in long Chinese tea-gownis and sandals, their
hair shining wi th oil and gathered at the back into buns.
Their eyes were painted to give the appearance of being narrow
and slented.
When the walls were up they were connected with a
wire corridor in the wings along whi ch the tigers would enter.
Nidck's table was taken into the cage, then his other properties
a. black chest, a number of coloured silk kerchiefs, two top
hate, a large dice, a wand decorated with tinsel, a tiny
barrel with a golden tap, a saw, a pack df cards, two chairs, a
number of hoops and an imitation bass-drum,
After the eighth curtain Hellebore took his last bow.
The yellow spotlight went out and the orohestra played again.
Nidok, Eliza and Helen went into the cage, and the
door was looked behind them. At a signal from Nidok two
sceneshi fters raised the grating over the wire corridor by
means of a chain, and others standing in the wings goaded the


animels along with their pikes, The first tiger stoppe ed
fet7
two or three feet from the entrence end yawned. It looked
ab out sleepily, then stared at the stage. It growled at an
attendant's pike, then walked slowly forward, its teeth a
little bared. Eliza waited at the entrance with a trainer's
whip. Nidok called to the tiger and showed it a stool on
the right hand side.
Eliza trailed her whip along the
floor towards the stool, coaxing it,
The tiger stopped
again, It stared first at Nidok, then et her. It walke d
past her whip and leapt softly onto the box, turning to growl
at her as she went towards the entrance again.
When all five tigers were on their boxes the scene-
shifters lowered the grating again, and the red light came
Nidok stood behind his table, wi th Eliza and Helen on
either side. Behind them the tigers waited on their boxes,
watchful and drowsy.
The curtain rose #
Lorraine shook hands with Hellebore fervently. He
gazed into his eyes, nodding all the time, but saying nothing,
He put his arm round his shoulder, and together they went
towards the pass-door 2 between an avenue of jostling people,
all of whom were trying to congratulate Hellebore or present
him with flowers,
The dressing-room door was opens
Waiting inside
were Bernard Charpentier, Prangine Berger and Jean and Pierre
Duloi-Bordeau,
On the right as Hellebore entered was a


great bank of
roses shaped like a horse-shoe and
as high as a man, with the letter H in white roses against
a red background.
He pointed to it with astonishment as
he came in, and laughed.
The men shook hands with him,
and Françine, tears in her eyes, came forwerd and kissed
him on the cheek.
Lorraine took Charpentier aside just by the door.
Lorraine (in a low voice):
Take oare of him, Bernard. I
must slip upstairs for a minute or two.
Charpentier nodded, and Lorraine quietly left the
room, closing the door behind him,
Hellebore: (turning) Where's he off to?
Charpentier shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
Lorraine returned to his office,
He sat down at
his desk agen end put his left hand over his eyes.
Nidok took out one of the sides of the bass-drum
and held it aloft. Eliza bent down and curled herself up
inside the drum, and he put the side back, so that she
could no longer be seen, He rolled the drum slowly from
one side of the cage to the other, then he touched it
several times with his wand.
He again removed one of the
si des, and Helen removed the other.
The drum was now
empty. He lifted up the drum-girdle and showed it to the


audi ence. He held the girdle over one of the tigers, and
it leapt through it onto another box,
Nidok then looked about him with a frown. He went
up to enother of the tigers an d spoke to it, The tiger
raised itself up, slowly glanced from one side of the cage to
the other, then leapt to the floor. It began prowling to and
fro across the st age, and Nidok watched it closely. It went
across to the black chest at the far side of the cage and
growled there. Nidok followed it to the chest, then pulled
open the lid, and Eliza stepped out wi th a smile. f
Charpentier lay on the divan with his head against
the oushions. Jean and Pierre Duloi-Bordeau sat on one
side of the fire, Hellebore in an easy chairy on the other.
Frangine sat on a low stool close to Hellebore. Her hair
was now brushed straight down to her shoulders, and she was
dressed in a white silk evening gown.
The dressing-table had now been cleared of Hellebore'
paints and creams, and was covered from end to end with
some fifty or sixty champagne glasses.
Hellebore:
Well, what did you think was up, then?
Charp entier: I was puzzled, Jack, like everybody else. All
your reeling about looked to me part of the
act, So did your collapse. I wes just going
to burst out laughing and the curtain fell,


It was like having the door closed in one's
façe.
Hellebore :
Did the lights go up?
Cherpenti er: Oh, yes.
Hellebore:
I can't understand it. I went on that stage
with real first night nerves, but the minute I
got near the piano I felt all right. I was
just ste eaming up nicely, then my legs went
weak. No, first of all something seemed to
get hold of me in the belly, the? - I felt my legs
go. I tried to stand still, but of course with
everybody staring at me I lost my head.
Charpentier: Were you unconscious ?
Hallebore :
Everything went black for a few minutes, that's
all,
When I saw that curtain come down I
could have wept.
Charpentier: You did weep, s0 Louis told me, And you told
a st agéhand that he had blood on his fingers.
(Laughing) I should like to have seen his
face! D'you remember saying that?
Hellebore (with a tired smile): Yes. Now I looked down at
that hand and I eould have sworn there was
blood all over the fingers.
Charpentier: You were delirious, my dear chap. * Anyway, I


I shall explain the whole thing in tomorrow
morning's edition. It'll make a good story. -
A hushed sigh of surprise came from the auditorium.
Charpentier yawned, and Jean Duloi-Bordeau looked up at
Frangine.
Jean:
What was so dangerous about your friend Henry
Sangson?
Françine started and glanced at Hellebore.
Hellebore (gazing at Jean through half-olosed eyes): Why,
what do you know about Sangson?
Jean:
We met him in the foyer this afternoon.
Hellebore:
Why?
Jean:
Lorraine told us to. He wanted him kept away
from you this afternoon.
Hellebore (astonished): Where is he now, then?
Jean:
Oh, we didn't do him any harm.
Charpentier (to Hellebore): Is this the young man who
called on you last night?
Hellebore (his eyes on Jean): Yes.
Charpentier: And a friend of Françine's?
Hellebore:
Yes. (To Jean) What was Lorraine's idea?
Jean:
He thought Sangson might be a blackmailer.
He asked us to protect you against him, so of
course we said yes right away.


Charpentier chuckling): Poor Albert!
Jean (tuming to him): Wasn't he right, then?
Hellebore :
Of course, he wasn't.
Jean:
Well, that's what I said. He was such a
polite young man, and he told us he knew
Frangine.
Hellebore :
What happened in the foyer, then?
Jean:
We told him your rehearsal had been cancelled
and would he wait for you at the hotel. So
we took him along to your hotel.
Hellebore:
And there was I running all over this theatre
trying to find him.
Jean:
We're sorry, Jack.
Pierre:
Yes.
Françine (bitterly): Lorraine threat en ed to throw me out
for en couraging intruders.
Charpentier: Oh, you mustn't take that to heart. You ought
to know Lorraine by now, Françine. Nothing
can be done about his little nightmares. Only
afterwards does he realise the truth, and then
he suffers the most terrible remorse. So you
needn't take his threat very seriously.
(Gazing at the ceiling) And I sometimes wonder whether his
little nightmares aren't useful to us all.


They do keep us alert, And it's possible,
Jack, that wi thout this nightmare of his about
your young friend we wouldn't be sitting here
now wait ting for your guests to come in and
toast your health, Your young friend could
have been up to some mischief. And how was
Lorraine to know?
Hellebore:
I could have told him.
Charpentier: Do you know, I believe he has suddenly become
an old men, quite suddenly, in the last few
deys? He needs our sympathy, Jack.
Hellebore (laughing): Yes, we'll have an appeal fund. My
friends ar e my friends, and I won't have Lor-
reine or anybody else interfering with them.
First he runs a second programme, then he sets
Jean and Pierre on a good friend of mine. One
of these days he '11 get himself into bad
trouble. He'll end in the law-courts if he
isn't careful. I know a thing or two about
Lorreine that might interest the police. Then
he'd turn to me for help. I met Lorraine long
before you did, Bernard, and I'll give you
a word of advice: when he looks old and sad,


wat ch out for yourself, he's up to something.
Charpentier (to Francine): What was your friend's idea in
calling on Jack last night, then?
Francine (looking at him coldly): Lorraine asked me that.
How am I to know? I'm not responsible for
what my friends do. Perhaps he oalled on Jack
to see the father of s omeone he had served with
during the War a and whom he buried.
Charpentier (politely): I see.
He smiled at her and got up from the divan.
Charpentier: Whenever you mention the War to me you sound a
little harsh, Françine, (Walking towards her)
Do you know what I did during your Wer?
Françine (staring at his shces): No.
Charpentier: I kept my head well down. (Ducking his head
wi th a ohuckle) Whereas you were positively up to your eyes
in blood, weran't you? And by the look on
your face you are going to ask me why I should
have considered myself different from anybody
else. But I won't let you sey it, because it
would be so boring. That's the trouble with
heroes and heroines, isn 't it? they're so
boring.
He teased her with a smile end she lowered her eyes.


Frangine:
I wasn't going to sey that, as a matter of fact
wese
wee
Charpentier: By the grace of God we spared it, then.
(Turning end going towards the door) I shall go up and see
the old gentlemen now, (With a glanoe at
Françine)
Try and pretend you're a human being, my dear.
The results might be interesting.
Hellebore laughed. : He patted Frangine's arm, and
Charpent ier left the room,
Nidok took off his top hat. He collapsed it and
opened it again. He twirled it round on his finger-tips,
Fhen put it orown downwerds on the table. Eliza brought him
a large green kerchief, then an orange one, then a yellow
one, and these he pushed down into the hat. Helen brought
him a mauve kerchief, E violet and a purple. He turned the
hat brim downward, with the silks inside. He tapped it
out
twice with his wand.
He then lifted it, and two doves flew)
from underneath. E
They flew up out of sight behind the prosoenium
arch, Nidok, Eliza end Helen gazed upwerds, and after a
pause the doves came fluttering down from the flies. One
of them carried a green kerchief in its bill, the other a
Hkem
mauve - They settled on Nidok's shoulders, He thanked, (with
a nod and took the kerchiefs from their bills. They flew
up agein and this time they brought an orange kerchief and
a violet.
They flew baok for a third time and returned
with the yellow and purple kerchiefs,


There was a little clapping.
Charpentier entered Lorraine's office. Lorraine
indicated a chair and yawned,
Charpentier: You ought to be downstairs wi th Jack, He
has just taken eight curtains and there you
are si tting wi th your head in your hands.
Did you even see the turn?
Lorraine:
No, Bernerd,
Charpentier si ghed.
Charpentier: I've been hearing a strange account downstairs
of how you sent the Duloi-Bordeau's to waylay
a hermless young friend of Frangine's,
Lorraine :
I wasn't to know he was harmless. Everything
seemed different before the show, I felt
so feverish.
Charpentier: But that sort of behaviour can get you into
the lew-courts.
Lorreine (with a friendly smile): Zwoulan't be for the
first time.
Charpentier: You threatened Frangine wi th dismissal, I
believe.
Lorra ine :
You know, Bernard, I thought that was the end
of my career when I saw him lying on that


stage, I thought it was the end of all of
us. (Yewning again) I feel so tired I could
sleep the eternal sleep. How quiet every-
thing is, Who's on?
Charpentier: Eiselheim,
Lorraine:
Ah, that explains it.
He got up and went to the door leading out onto
the gallery. Cherpentier followed him, end together they
looked down at the stage, Eliza was trying to coax one
of the tigers back to its box. She wes trailing her whip
along the floor in front of the animal, her head and shoul-
ders bent forward.
The tiger watched her, its long body
stretoned out, and growled at the whip. Nidok stood at
the table drawing off a dark liquid from the berrel into
a wine-glass. Throughout the theatre there was utter
silence, epart from the tiger's low growling.
Cherpentier and Lorraine returned to the office and
closed the door.
Hellebore leaned forwerd and wermed his hands at
the fire.
Hellebore:
What annoys me is when people try and stuff
me alive, That's why I hate this room,
(Turning to Françine) Have you told Lorraine about that?


Françine:
No. I think it's a lovely room,
Hellebore looked about him and smiled. He glanced
back at the dressing-table and the curtains behind it.
Hellebore :
Well, it looks better than it did an hour ago.
Françi ne :
It only needs to be lived in.
Hellebore (To Jean agein): Who was he to proteet me, as if
I hadn't got a mind of my own. If I want to
be robbed or kidnapped or blackmailed, that's
my own business. I'm free. I could leave
the stage tomorrow if I wanted to. I like
being alone, standing on my own two feet. You
never got a minute to yourself in the circus,
but at least your boss never interfered with
your friends.
There was a sudden hushed sound of applause from the
auditori um below, and Lorraine's telephone rang.
Lorraine:."
Speaking. (Listening) Yes. I thought it
looked a little slow. (Listening). - It does
sound subdued. I'll come down.
He put the receiver down and looked at Charpentier.
Lorraine :
The boot's on the other foot. The audience
went dead on Eiselheim, I thought it looked
slow, didn't you? Well, one dan never account


for these things.
Charpe pentier: Were there cat-calls?
Lorraine :
No, they just went dead on him. He'll take
it to heart, of course, He takes everything
to heart. I'll go dow,
Lorraine left the office by thé gallery-door,
Charpentier by the other one, Lorraine hurried down to the
stage, He slipped between the running stagehands, jumped
over one of Nidok's coloured boxes, bent to avoid a swinging
flat and made for the right of the stage,
Eliza cracked her whip at one of the tigers who
had stopped on its way along the wire passage. There were
tears in her eyes. Lorraine called to her and she turned,
Lorraine (taking her hand): What went wrong, my dear?
Eliza (bresthlessly, through her sobs): There was just
no go in it tonight. He couldn't get anything
out of them.
Lorraine :
But did anything particular go wrong?
Elizat
No, that's what I oan't understand. It's a
beautiful act, Albert. He did the same tum
in Brussels a fortnight ago and they wouldn't
let him go off the stage. He seemed to hang
fire tonight. He's broken-hearted about it.


He's going to ask you to cancel his contract:
you won't do it, will you?
Lorraine (averting his face): Well, perhaps he does need a
rest.
Eliza (shaking his arm): No, Albert! Once you cancel his
contract he'll never try agein. Look at me,
dear. You won't cancel his cantract, even if
he pleads with you, will you?
He looked at her tenderly for a moment.
Lorraine :
Very well, then.
The aro-lamps came on, and the stage was cleered for
the chorus, * The orchestfa struck up again. Eliza and
Lorraine walked behind the back-drop towards the wooden
stairoase.
Lorraine :
Come up to the office, Eliza,
Miza:
Noa I want to change now # I'll see you at
Jack'e party.
Lorraine looked about him, then gripped her arm
earnestly.
Lorraine:
Leave him, Eliza! Let Helen look after him
for a little while, Don't go away so soon
Stay heze on. whatever terms you like to make.
I shall agree to anything, Will you?


Eliza (helplessly, as if she had no further strength) No,
My answer will always be, no. Always no, no,
Even if you cancel his contract I shall go
away just the same, I don't know where I shall
go, but I shan't stay here.
Lorraine (wi thdrawing his hand): Forgive me for asking you,
then. Sey you forgive me.
forgire
Eliza (aghast at his expression): Yes, my deer. I
you.
Wts/tt/daralAveteaa/abla


Scene 2: The same, thirty minutes later.
Hellebore tidied the diven cover and patted down
the cushions where Charpentier had been lying.
Hellebore:
Will you help me unbutton, Frangine?
She followed him behind the sereen, where he sat
down on a stool, and began unbuttoning the back of his sequin
dre ss. *
There was a knock at the door and someone came in.
Frangine looked round the screen,
Fra ngi ne :
Good evening.
Hellebore (turning): Who is it?
Françine :
Mr. Eiselheim,
Hellebore stared at her in as tonishment.
Hellebore :
Tell him to come through.
He stood up, and Nidok came to the edge of the
screen. He wore his overcoet and was carrying a hat and
cane.
Nidok;
I shall take very little of your time,
Hellebore:
Won't you sit down?
Françine Berger went back to the hearth, where the
brothers Duloi-Bordeau were si tting.
Nidok (nervously watching him): No, thank you. e I must go
imme dia tely.


Hellebore stood awkwardly by his stool wi th his
sequin costume open at the back.
Nidok (in a lower voice): The audience died on me *
Hellebore gasped.
Hellebore:
You got the bird?
Nidok:
Not exactly. But it amounts to the same thing.
Hellebore :
Oh, well, it won't happen tomorrow night.
Nidok:
I've come to tell you that I shall be leaving
Peris tonight,
Hellebore (with a frown): Why?
Nidok (his eyes on the floor): I feel I'm no longer fit
for the stage, Mr. Finst anley. I heven't had
a rest for twelve years. I'm beginning to
rely on my reputation, and I don't think of
new things as I used to. I have lost the
power of (hesitating) a putting thinge into
effect. Just now I asked Lorraine to cancel
my contract.
Hellebore (instantly): What did he say?
Nidok:
He agreed it was wise,
Hellebore:
Don't listen to him, Eiselheim.
Nidok:
I shall leave Paris tonight whatever he thinks *
Hellebore (puzzled): But it isn't as if they had really


given you the bird, is it? I can't understand
you,
Nidok:
The se things depend on a man's state of con-
fidence, as you must know, Mr. Finstanley.
I have lost faith in myself. That's why they
died on me. In the last few months I have
been imagining to myself all sorts of enmity
where there has been none, i a sure sign of
my weakness, a sure sign that I had come to
believe in the power of other people over me,
and no longer in my own. I saw you on the
etage this afternoon with Eliza, and I thought
there must be some conspiracy against me
between you.
Hellebore;
What conspiracy?
Nidok (embarrassedl: Eliza has been miserable wit th us/
lately, and it seemed to be natural that she
should conspire wi th you against me, One day
I shall probably return to the stage, but now
I need a long rest, a long period of s olitude.
(More briskly) I won't deny I hoped it would be you who got
the bird tonight, I knew what was going on
in Lorraine's mind this norning à


Hellebore:
What about ?
Nidok:
About whether the show ought to be postponed.
Hellebore:
Ah, yes.
Nidok:
And as a colleague I should have come al ong
and told you, It was a sign of my weakness
that I didn't.
This morning Lorraine wanted
to postpone the show, and I tried to persuade
him to let you_go on. I did that because I
wanted you to prove to everybody that you were
finished a I thought you were and not because
I wanted him to give you a fair chance. Can
you forgive me that?
Hellebore (mumbling): Of course.
Nidok held out his hand and Hellebore took it.
Nidok:
I wanted to part from you on good terms.
Hellebore (uncomfortably): Where will you go now?
Nidok:
Oh, perhaps to Germany, perhaps to Poland.
But there is something else I wanted to ask
you. Will you give Eliza your help if she
needs it?
Heilebore:
Where is she now?
Nidok:
In my dressing-room. She wants to go with me,
but I shan't let her.


Hellebore:
Why not?
Nidok:
Becase I am very deeply attaohed to her. She
mus t break a way from me, otherwise she'll never
be a happy young woman. At present I am her
exouse for not being heppy. I shall remove
that excuse.
He held out his hand agein.
Nidok:
Goodbye to you, then.
Forgive me my
(with a smile) strangeness.
They shook hends, and Nidok left the ro om silently.
Hellebore went to the edge of the screen and stared after
him, He took a white flower from the bank of (hatopts
roses and put it to his nose.


a9a
Soene 3: The Casa Celida in the Rue du Bois de Boulogne,
Two hours later, at about fifteen minutes past midnight.
A log fire burned in Maria Celida's bedroom. Close
to it there was a table laid for two, with two bottles,
several covered dishes and a lighted candelabra in the middle.
On the other side of the room there was a wide four-poster
bed enclosed by heavy damask curtains.
These ourtains hung
down from a dome of carved wood fixed to the ceiling.
The only light in the room was from the candelabra.
Hellebore set on one of the chairs by the table,
still in his evening clothes, and Maria Celida lay on the
bed with the ourtain at her side half drawn back. He gazed
into the fire, his legs stretched out before him.
Maria's
long fur wrap lay over the back of one of the chairs.
Maria:
I dhall never forget those dances you did.
(Opening her eyes and looking across at him) You were
quite near our box when you ate the apple, you
know.
Hellebore: I didn't rellise you were there.
Otherwise I
could have given you a little wink.
He got up and went towards the bed. He sat down at her
side, and they kissed.
Maria (drawing him further down) Come closer.
Hellebore: I feel drunk after that champagne, but not like
last night.


Maria:
Open one of these bottles if you want to.
Hellebore: Later. We've got the night all to ourselves.
Mari a:
I feel happy.
Hellebore (gazing into her eyes) Shall we go for a walk
at dawn?
Maria:
No, you must
H. : "Atdam. loc dewrs, 1 Kmemlier.. eleep. - He uned A - Kiead T Aares
Whur"
Hellebore: I don't feel tired any
ul- the coupel lost,
suuhe.
longer.
muth gen
Nesneld, und said She pulled his arms underneath her shoulders, end again
he kiseed her.
Footsteps sounded from above them, and instantly Maria
raised herself on her elbows. She listened, staring before
her.
Mariarlin a whisper) Who is that?
Hellebore (shaking his head)
I don't know.
The footsteps left the room above and came down the staira
at the far end of the corridor leading to the bedroom. They
slowly came nearer the bedroom and stopped just outside,
There was a light knook on the door, and Maria gripped Helle-
bore's arm. They waited in silence, .and there was another
louder knock.
Sangson: (from outside, speaking softly): Maria, did Giordano
come back with you?
Neither of them moved. Hellebore stared at the fire,
bent forward.
Sangson:
Maria, is Giordano in the house? Are you there,
Maria?


Maria: (whispering to Hellebore and trying to rise) He needs
somehody.
Call him in. Please call him in.
Hellebore(holding her shoulders down) What can you do for him?
Zeave him alone,
Sangson walked away, and after a few moments a door at
Theydey luge" shen egai
the other end of the corridor closed quietly.
iia wleuce, lis heud Suk don m Yv Mmide
Hellebore: What did you mean, when you said he needed somebody?
henhispen
Maria:
Oh, I don't. know he needs our help.
utfer
N.mmuen. - sutter
Hellebore: "We must forget about him. "Let him, A if he's got
het hia >-lfe.
He went to the door and quietly turned the key in the
lock, then returned to the bed and sat down at her side. He
touched her brow, then her hair.
Hellebore: Forget about him, Maria. hesud.