Page:Poet Lore, volume 27, 1916.djvu/71

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JAROSLAV KVAPIL
57

Suddenly he advances towards Helen).—Helen, forgive me!

Helen (Rising).—Is it going to begin all over again? (Points to the door.) I hope, that now we needn’t act the farce any longer.

Vlasák (Frightened).—For God’s sake, Helen——

Helen (With icy calmness).—Did you hear? And you know what I told you a moment ago?

((Vlasák surprisedly shakes his head.)

Helen (Sorrowfully).—Just recall! Without your or my fault everything has suddenly changed. (Takes his head between her hands and looks into his eyes.) Poor fellow! Poor fellow!

Vlasák (Not comprehending).—No, Helen,—you are the one needing pity! I am to blame and you are the one sacrificed!

Helen (Wondering).—Only I? And not you? (Violently seizes his hand.)—What will you do now, Victor?

Vlasák (Crushed).—I don’t know—

Helen (Surprised).—You don’t know? Now, at this moment, you don’t know? At this moment when perhaps even the street-arabs are running about Prague saying——

Vlasák.—Helen!

Helen.—Yes, when in a little while the scandal will be the topic of discussion in every coffee-house and restaurant in the city? And you don’t know?

Vlasák (In hollow tones).—I know, Helen.

Helen (Icily).—Have you asked for Clara’s hand?

(Vlasák shakes his head.)

Helen.—Are you otherwise bound to her?

(Vlasák remains silent.)

Helen (Harshly).—Aren’t you?

(Vlasák again shakes his head.)

Helen (Slowly but firmly).—And when do you wish to speak to my father?

Vlasák (Frightened at the word but quickly recovers).—When you wish.

Helen.—At once, tomorrow! (A pause.) Tomorrow, you understand? (Looks at him.) Do you want to?

Vlasák (Resignedly).—Yes!

Helen (Gives him her hand).—Thank you, Victor! (Sinks on the divan.) Poor boy! (Glancing at Vlasák, she buries her face in her hands.)

Curtain.