MAN

All right. Imagine a wonderful orchestra. Here is the Turkish drum--boom, boom, boom! _(He strikes his fist on the table as on a drum)_

WIFE

Why, dear, it's only in the circus that they attract crowds by beating drums, but in a palace--

MAN

Oh, hang it! Stop imagining that, then. Now imagine something else.

The violins are playing a melodious plaint; the flutes are singing gently; the double ba.s.s drones like a beetle.

_[Man sits down, still wearing his oak wreath, and strikes up a dance tune, clapping his hands in accompaniment. The melody is the same as in the next scene at Man's ball. The Wife dances. She is well-formed and graceful._

MAN

Oh, you darling!

WIFE

I am the queen of the ball.

_[The song and dance grow ever jollier. Man rises slowly and begins to dance lightly on the spot where he is standing; then he seizes his Wife and dances with her. The oak wreath slips to one side. Someone in Gray looks on indifferently, the candle burning brightly in his petrified hand._

CURTAIN

THE THIRD SCENE

A BALL AT MAN'S HOUSE

_The ball is in the drawing-room of Man's large mansion. It is a very lofty, s.p.a.cious, perfectly rectangular room. The floor is bright and smooth. There is a certain irregularity about the room due to the disproportionate size of the parts. Thus, the doors are very small in proportion to the windows. This produces a strange, irritating impression, as of something disharmonious, something lacking, and also of something superfluous and advent.i.tious. The whole is pervaded by a chilly white, the monotony of which is broken only by a row of windows in the rear wall. They are very high, reaching almost to the ceiling, and dense with the blackness of night. Not one gleam, not a bright spot shows in the blank s.p.a.ces between the window frames. Man's wealth shows in the abundance of gildings. There are gilded chairs, and very wide gold frames enclose the pictures. These const.i.tute the only furniture as well as the only ornamentation. The lighting is from three chandeliers shaped like tings, with a few electric lights placed at a great distance apart. At the ceiling the light is bright, but considerably less so below, so that the walls seem grayish.

The ball is in full swing. The music is furnished by an orchestra of three pieces. The musicians resemble closely their respective instruments; the violinist, a violin--lean neck, small head, a shock of hair brushed to one side, back somewhat bent, a handkerchief correctly adjusted on his shoulder under the violin; the flute-player, a flute--very, tall, with a thin, elongated face, and stiff, thin legs, the ba.s.s-violinist, a double-ba.s.s--stumpy, round-shouldered, lower part of his body very stout, wide trousers. The uncommon effort with which the musicians play is painfully evident. They beat time, swing their heads, and shake their bodies. The tune is the same throughout the ball, a short polka in two musical phrases, producing a jolly, hopping, extremely insipid effect. The three instruments do not quite keep time with one another, producing a sort of queer detachment, a vacant s.p.a.ce, as it were, between them and the sounds which they produce.

Young men and girls are dancing dreamily. All are handsome, distinguished-looking, with good figures. In contrast to the piercing notes of the music, their dancing is smooth, noiseless, light. At the first musical phrase, they circle around; at the second, they gracefully part and join again. There is a slight mannerism in their dancing.

Along the walls, on the gilded chairs, sit the Guests, stiff and constrained. They scarcely venture to move their heads. Their conversation is also constrained. They do not whisper to one another; they do not laugh, and they scarcely look at one another. They speak abruptly, as if chopping out the words of a text. Their hands hanging superciliously over their laps make their arms look as if they had been broken at the wrists. The monotony of their faces is strongly emphasized. Every face bears the same expression of self-satisfaction, haughtiness, and inane respect for the wealth of Man.

The dancing girls are all in white, the men in black. Some of the Guests wear black, white, and brightly yellow? flowers.

In the near corner, which is darker than the rest, Someone in Gray called He stands motionless. The candle in his hand is reduced two-thirds and burns with a strong, yellow light, casting a yellow sheen on His stony face and chin._

THE GUESTS' CONVERSATION

--It is a very great honor to be a guest at Man's ball.

--You may add, it is an honor of which very few have been deemed worthy. The whole city tried to get themselves invited, but only a very few succeeded. My husband, my children, and I are quite proud of the honor Man has showed us.

--I am really sorry for those who were not able to get here. They won't sleep the whole night from sheer envy, and to-morrow they'll say nasty things about the ball and call it a bore.

--They never saw such magnificence.

--Or such wonderful wealth and luxury.

--Or, I dare say, such charming, free and easy gayety.

--If this isn't gay, I should like to know what is.

--Oh, what's the use of talking? You can't convince people consumed by jealousy. They'll tell us we didn't sit on gilded chairs, absolutely not.

--They'll say that the chairs were of the commonest sort, bought at second hand.

--That the illumination was not by electricity, but just by tallow candles.

--Say candle stumps.

--Or dirty lamps.

--They'll have the impudence to maintain that the mouldings in Man's house are not gilded.

--And that the broad picture frames are not made of gold. It seems to me I can hear the very ring of it.

--You can see its glitter. That's quite sufficient, I should think.

--I have rarely had the pleasure of hearing such music.

--It is divine harmony. It transports the soul to higher spheres.

--I should think the music good enough, considering the money paid for it. It is the best trio in the city. They play on the most important and solemn occasions.

--If you listen awhile, it compels your absolute attention. After a ball at Man's, my children keep singing the tune a long time.

--I sometimes think I hear it in the street. I look around--no musicians, no music.

--What I like especially in these musicians is the great effort they make when they play. They know the price they're paid and don't want to get the money for nothing. That's very decent of them.

--It seems as if they became a part of their instruments, their efforts are so great.

--Or as if the instruments became part of them.

--How rich!

--How magnificent!

--How brilliant!