Page:Poet Lore, volume 27, 1916.djvu/25

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
JAROSLAV KVAPIL
11

Dušek (Exasperated).—Good-bye! (Extends his hand to her.)

Stáza (Turns away and bursts into sobs).

Hlaváček (Moves).—Miss Stázička. . . .

Stáza (Extends her hand to Hlaváček). Thank you, Mr. Hlaváček. (She ceases crying for a few moments.)

Dušek (Excited).—Stáza!

Stáza (Crying again and indicating with her hand that he is not to detain her).

Dušek (Seizes her hand).—Stáza, don’t be angry with me! If you only knew—

Stáza (With a smile of pain).—I know! (She draws a ring from her left hand.) This ring—was—from you—Mr. Dušek. (She offers it to him.)

Dušek (Pushes aside Staza’s hand).

Stáza.—No—I must return it to you! (She lays it on the table.) Let there be an end to it forever. (She presses a handkerchief to her eyes.) Good-bye! (Departing towards the door she extends her hand to Hlaváček.) Good-bye, Mr. Hlaváček!

Hlaváček (Accompanying Stáza to the door, presses her hand).—It will be best for you both this way. And if you insist on going to Vienna, why. . . (He departs with Stáza, towards the entrance).

Dušek (Advances after them, but at the door by a motion of the hand he indicates a sudden resolution. He returns. He puts his hands to his head and with staring eyes gazes into space. He seats himself on a low stool and buries his head in his hands. After a while, he arises, in a listening attitude. Looking towards the table where Stáza had placed the ring, he reaches for it and drawing a purse from his pocket throws in the ring. The door in the entrance hall bangs. Dušek sighs deeply).

Hlaváček (Returns, incensed. With long strides, his hands in his pockets, he paces the studio. After a pause).—Hereafter enact such scenes as this without my presence, I beg you, Dušek!

Dušek (striking his hands together).—For God’s sake, please, Hlaváček . . . (Explodes.) You have something for your companions and the ale-house—haven’t you?

Hlaváček (Suddenly and wrathily).—Dušek! (Maliciously.) Now the ropes are torn to pieces—and now—you can soar! Away off somewhere to the New Town to St. James’ Square—yes?

Dušek.—Ládo, if you knew how I feel now you wouldn’t torture me!

Hlaváček.—Oh, you’ll console yourself again. (Recovering.)