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THE MANAGER. Now, look here! On the stage, you as yourself, cannot exist. The actor here acts you, and that's an end to it!
THE FATHER. I understand. And now I think I see why our author who conceived us as we are, all alive, didn't want to put us on the stage after all. I haven't the least desire to offend your actors. Far from it! But when I think that I am to be acted by ... I don't know by whom....
LEADING MAN (_on his dignity_). By me, if you've no objection!
THE FATHER (_humbly, mellifluously_). Honoured, I a.s.sure you, sir. (_Bows_). Still, I must say that try as this gentleman may, with all his good will and wonderful art, to absorb me into himself....
LEADING MAN. Oh chuck it! "Wonderful art!" Withdraw that, please!
THE FATHER. The performance he will give, even doing his best with make-up to look like me....
LEADING MAN. It will certainly be a rat difficult! (_The actors laugh_.)
THE FATHER, Exactly! It will be difficult to act me as I really am. The effect will be rather--apart from the make-up--according as to how he supposes I am, as he senses me--if he does sense me--and not as I inside of myself feel myself to be. It seems to me then that account should be taken of this by everyone whose duty it may become to criticize us....
THE MANAGER. Heavens! The man's starting to think about the critics now! Let them say what they like. It's up to us to put on the play if we can (_looking around_). Come on! come on! Is the stage set? (_To the actors and Characters_): Stand back--stand back! Let me see, and don't let's lose any more time! (_To the Step-Daughter_): Is it all right as it is now?
THE STEP-DAUGHTER. Well, to tell the truth, I don't recognize the scene.
THE MANAGER. My dear lady, you can't possibly suppose that we can construct that shop of Madame Pace piece by piece here? (_To the Father_): You said a white room with flowered wall paper, didn't you?
THE FATHER. Yes.
THE MANAGER. Well then. We've got the furniture right more or less. Bring that little table a bit further forward.
(_The stage hands obey the order. To Property Man_): You go and find an envelope, if possible, a pale blue one; and give it to that gentleman (_indicates Father_).
PROPERTY MAN. An ordinary envelope?
MANAGER _and_ FATHER. Yes, yes, an ordinary envelope.
PROPERTY MAN. At once, sir (_exit_).
THE MANAGER. Ready, everyone! First scene--the Young Lady.
(_The Leading Lady comes forward_). No, no, you must wait. I meant her (_indicating the Step-Daughter_). You just watch--
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_adding at once_). How I shall play it, how I shall live it!...
LEADING LADY (_offended_). I shall live it also, you may be sure, as soon as I begin!
THE MANAGER (_with his hands to his head_). Ladies and gentlemen, if you please! No more useless discussions! Scene I: the young lady with Madame Pace: Oh! (_looks around as if lost_). And this Madame Pace, where is she?
THE FATHER. She isn't with us, sir.
THE MANAGER. Then what the devil's to be done?
THE FATHER. But she is alive too.
THE MANAGER. Yes, but where is she?
THE FATHER. One minute. Let me speak! (_turning to the actresses_). If these ladies would be so good as to give me their hats for a moment....
THE ACTRESSES (_half surprised, half laughing, in chorus_).
What?
Why?
Our hats?
What does he say?
THE MANAGER. What are you going to do with the ladies' hats?
(_The actors laugh_).
THE FATHER. Oh nothing. I just want to put them on these pegs for a moment. And one of the ladies will be so kind as to take off her mantle....
THE ACTORS. Oh, what d'you think of that?
Only the mantle?
He must be mad.
SOME ACTRESSES. But why?
Mantles as well?
THE FATHER. To hang them up here for a moment Please be so kind, will you?
THE ACTRESSES (_taking off their hats, one or two also their cloaks, and going to hang them on the racks_). After all, why not?
There you are!
This is really funny.
We've got to put them on show.
THE FATHER. Exactly; just like that, on show.
THE MANAGER. May we know why?
THE FATHER. I'll tell you. Who knows if, by arranging the stage for her, she does not come here herself, attracted by the very articles of her trade? (_Inviting the actors to look towards the exit at back of stage_): Look! Look!
(_The door at the back of stage opens and_ MADAME PACE _enters and takes a few steps forward. She is a fat, oldish woman with puffy oxygenated hair. She is rouged and powdered, dressed with a comical elegance in black silk.
Round her waist is a long silver chain from which hangs a pair of scissors. The Step-Daughter runs over to her at once amid the stupor of the actors_).
THE STEP-DAUGHTER (_turning towards her_). There she is!
There she is!
THE FATHER (_radiant_). It's she! I said so, didn't I? There she is!
