[Pictures shake themselves as if saying no.]
Behavior, eh? ... I move that you adjourn!
[Pictures signify no.]
Oh, very well!
[He whistles. The sword-clash grows louder.]
I see! Life’s short but art is long! Is that
Your motto?
[Pictures signify assent.]
Your motto? You intend to kill me?
[Pictures assent.]
Your motto? You intend to kill me? So!
The ayes would seem to have it! Go ahead!
Once in a lifetime only can one die!
And as an angel I would sooner be
The real article than just a sham,
Old, tarnished, cracked, and canvas-back, like—
[There is a terrible clash, while the pictures seem to close about the Young Man. Suddenly the Woman at her Toilet runs in from the right, shrieking.]
Woman at her Toilet.
Spare him! Spare him to me!
Glove Young Man.
Spare him! Spare him to me! Good gracious! Who
Is this enthusiastic but somewhat
Imperfectly attired young female! Miss,
Your name escapes me, but ... my business card!
Woman at her Toilet.
As hostage let him live, to me enchained!
Price of the masterwork a mortal’s love
This day destroyed! I ask it in the name
Of Titian and of Art!
Unseen Pictures.
Of Titian and of Art! So be it!
Others.
Of Titian and of Art! So be it! Amen!
[The Pictures in evidence retreat.]
Woman at her Toilet.
Come!
[Glove Young Man descends from frame.]
Glove Young Man.
Kindest thanks for timely help! But—who—?
Woman at her Toilet.
Come forth into the world with me!
Glove Young Man.
Come forth into the world with me! Aren’t you
Afraid of taking cold?
Woman at her Toilet.
Not while the sun is shining, and with you!
Glove Young Man.
Sunshine is so uncertain. If you had
A rag of fringe, a lambrequin, a sash,
To patch you up a bit! And then your hair—
Woman at her Toilet.
Am I not beautiful the way I am?
Glove Young Man.
Too beautiful by half!
Woman at her Toilet.
Too beautiful by half! One cannot have
Too much of beauty! So all artists say!
Glove Young Man.
But my dear Miss ... or Madam, is it? I
Am not an artist! Such a thing—tap wood!
Has never happened in our family!
Woman at her Toilet.
Your time has come! Not artist; work of art,
Like to myself, I’ll render you! Take off
Those hideous clothes!
Glove Young Man.
Those hideous clothes! My goodness gracious me!
Unseen Pictures.
Do as she bids!
Glove Young Man.
Do as she bids! How many and how much
Will satisfy the Louvre proprieties?
[Reluctantly preparing to remove his coat. Laura, who has wakened gradually, now sits up with a gasp.]
Laura.
Why, Charley Black! What would your mother say!
Glove Young Man.
If only it were mother!... Do you mind
Turning your back?
Laura.
Turning your back? How dare you!
Glove Young Man.
Turning your back? How dare you! Oh, I dare
Do all that may become a work of art!
Who dares do more is none!
Woman at her Toilet.
Who dares do more is none! Oh, bravely said,
And worthy of our School!
[Cries of “Hear, hear!” from Unseen Pictures.]
Laura.
[Noticing the Woman for the first time, advances on her.]
And worthy of our School! You scandalous
Young Masterpiece—or, rather, Mistresspiece!
Go right back to the frame where you belong!
Woman at her Toilet.
Never! Take you my place! With him I go,
When he is decently undressed!
Glove Young Man.
[Ruefully.]
I’ll wreathe myself in smiles!
Laura.
I’ll wreathe myself in smiles! You will, will you! Oh, Charley Black!
What shall I do!
[Bursting into tears.]
Young Man with a Glove.
[Suddenly appears at her side.]
What shall I do! Absorbed in yon dusk shades,
Emerge ... and not alone! in sunlit groves
In Italy!
Laura.
[Shrieks.]
In Italy! How dare you! Get right back
Into your frame! Charley, put on your coat
And come with me!
Unseen Pictures.
And come with me! Do as he bids!
Laura.
And come with me! Do as he bids! I won’t!
Young Man with a Glove.
And come with me! Do as he bids! I won’t! Fear not!
Although a chromo, as compared to us,
Ill-dressed, pretentious, modern at its worst,
Your hair is not unTitianesque, your lines
Susceptible of change!
Laura.
Susceptible of change! You horrid thing!
Charley, why don’t you knock him down?
Woman at her Toilet.
We waste the daylight! Come!
[Trying to lead the Glove Young Man to the right.]
Unseen Pictures.
We waste the daylight! Come! Do as she bids!
Glove Young Man.
[Ruefully, to Laura.]
Sorry, my dear! This lady seems to have
A lien upon me!—At your service, ma’am!
We’ll take a taxi to the nearest shop,
Outfitted with a raincoat, rubber shoes,
Hairpins and usual et ceteras
You won’t feel quite so, well, conspicuous
In Paris!
Woman at her Toilet.
In Paris! Wonted to the gaze am I
Of the admiring throng! As breath of life
To me their plaudits are! O welcome chance
On exhibition so to place myself!
Then, come!
Young Man with a Glove.
Then, come! And you, into the background thrust
A hundred years or so haply may learn
Humbly, upon your knees, the rudiments
Of all you glibly chatter now about!
Unseen Pictures.
[With a menacing clash.]
Do as they bid!
Laura.
Do as they bid! I won’t! I’d sooner die!
Charley, forgive me! It is you I love,
While as for you—You cinquecento dude—
[There is a terrible sword clash, followed by lightning and violent thunder. When the darkness clears the Young Man with a Glove is seen in his original attitude within his frame, while the Woman at her Toilet has disappeared. Laura is composedly gathering up her painting materials, the Glove Young Man, fully equipped, assisting her.]
Glove Young Man.
Storm’s over.
[Picking up the easel.]
Laura.
[Looking at her study of the picture.]
Storm’s over. ’Tisn’t really good!
Glove Young Man.
[Admiring it.]
Storm’s over. ’Tisn’t really good! Oh, yes,
It is, though!
Laura.
[Comparing it with the original.]
It is, though! No. I know enough to know
What I don’t know! Still, I will keep it as
A souvenir.
[Dreamily.]
Glove Young Man.
A souvenir. Of what?
Laura.
[As if waking, laughs.]
A souvenir. Of what? I do not know.
Charley, he looks a little bit like you!
Glove Young Man.
Well, I can stand it, if he can! This way!
[Leading Laura to the right.]
I saw a picture of a red-haired girl....
Like you!
[They laugh, and kiss.]
Gardien.
[Passing through.]
Like you! On ferme!
Glove Young Man.
Like you! On ferme! Where would you like to spend
The honeymoon: in Italy?
Laura.
The honeymoon: in Italy? N-no!
That’s too exciting. Just some quiet place!
Glove Young Man.
Why not Niagara?
Laura.
[Agreeing.]
Why not Niagara? Niagara!
Gardien.
[Again passing through.]
On ferme! On ferme!
[The lovers kiss again and pass out on the right.]
Gardien.
[Again passing through.]
On ferme!
Woman at her Toilet.
[Advances stealthily a few steps from the right.]
Signore.... Our ruse succeeded!
Young Man with a Glove.
Signore.... Our ruse succeeded! So it seems,
Madonna!
Woman at her Toilet.
Madonna! Fare you well, then!
Young Man with a Glove.
Madonna! Fare you well, then! Fare you well!
[The Woman at her Toilet disappears on the right. The Young Man with a Glove becomes a picture again. The light fades. The Gardien, again passing through, cries, “On ferme!” on which the curtains are drawn.]