DAVID BELASCO, JOHN LUTHER LONG
661
I am finish here. (Taking the American flag from the tobacco jar and giving it to the child.) Tha's your country—your flag. Now wave like fath-er say w'en excite—wave like "hell!" (Waves the child's hand.) Ha'rh! Ha'rh! (A ship's gun is heard.) Ah! (Madame Butterfly and Suzuki start for the balcony. Madame Butterfly runs back for the child as the gun is heard again; then returning to the shoji, looks through the glasses.) Look! Look! Warship! Wait . . . can't see name. . . .
Suzuki. Let me—
Madame Butterfly. No! Ah! Name is "Con-nec-ti-cut"! His ship! He's come back! He's come back! (Laughing, she embraces Suzuki—then sinks to the floor.) He's come back! Those robins nes' again an' we didn' know! O, bebby, bebby—your fath-er come back! Your fath-er's come back!!! (Shaking a bough of cherry blossoms, which fall on them both.) This is the bes' nize momen' since you was bomed. Now your name's Joy! Suzuki; the Moon Goddess sent that bebby straight from Bridge of Heaven to make me courage to wait so long.
Suzuki. Ah, ship's in. . . .
Madame Butterfly. (Rising in great excitement.) Hoarry, Suzuki, his room. (Suzuki pulls out a screen to form a little room.) We mus' hoarry—(Picking flowers from the pots and decorating the room) like we got eagle's wings an' thousan' feets. His cigarettes. (Setting the jar in the room.) His slipper. (Suzuki gets them from the shrine.) His chair, Suzuki—hustle! (Suzuki hastens off. Madame Butterfly shakes a cushion and drops it on the floor.) His bed. (Suzuki enters with a steamer chair, which she places upside down.) Now his room fixed! (Suzuki closes the shoji. Madame Butterfly adjusts the chair and sets the lanterns about the room.) Bring me my wides' obi, kanzashi for my hair, poppies—mus' look ver' pretty!
Suzuki. Rest is bes' beauty. He not come yet. Sleep liddle firs'. . . .
Madame Butterfly. No, no time. (Taking up a small mirror and looking critically at herself.) He mus' see me look mos' pretty ever. You thing I change since he went away—not so beauty? (Suzuki is silent.) W'at? . . . I am! (Brandishing the mirror.) Say so!
Suzuki. Perhaps you rest liddle, once more you get so pretty again.
Madame Butterfly. Again?. . . .
Suzuki. Trouble, tha's make change. . . .
Madame Butterfly. Moach change. (Still looking in the glass.) No, I am no more pretty—an' he come soon. (On her knees in front of Suzuki—resting her forehead on the maid's feet.) Ah, Suzuki, be kin' with me—make me pretty . . . don' say you can't—you moas'. An' tomorrow, the gods will. Ah, yes! You can—you can—you got to! Bring powder, comb, rouge, henna, fix it hair like on wedding day. (Suzuki brings the toilet articles and they sit on the floor. Suzuki puts the poppies and pins in Madame Butterfly's hair, and she, in turn, dresses the baby, enveloping him in an obi, so wide that it almost covers the child.) Now, bebby, when you cry, he'll sing you those liddle 'Merican song he sing me when I cry—song all 'Merican sing for bebby. (Sitting with the baby in front of her, swaying it by the arms, she sings.)
"Reg' a bye bebby,
Off in Japan,
You jus' a picture,
Off of a fan."
(Suzuki has found it very difficult to finish the toilet, but at last she accomplishes it. Madame Butterfly lifts the baby up, gives it a doll, then touches it with rouge and adds a final dash of rouge to her own face.) Now for watch for pa-pa!
(Putting the flag in the child's hand, she takes it up to the window and makes three holes in the shoji, one low down for the baby. As the three look through the shoji, they form the picture she has already described.)
(During the vigil, the night comes on. Suzuki lights the floor lamps, the stars come out, the dawn breaks, the floor lights flicker out one by one, the birds begin to sing, and the day discovers Suzuki and the baby fast asleep on the floor; but Madame Butterfly is awake, still watching, her face white and strained. She reaches out her hands and rouses Suzuki.)
Suzuki. (Starting to her feet, surprised
