Six Characters in Search of an Author

and Actors burst out laughing. The Father Hurt. I am sorry you laugh, because we carry in us a drama, as you can guess from this woman here veiled in black. The Manager Losing patience at last and almost indignant. Oh, chuck it! Get away please! Clear out of here! To Property Man. For Heaven’s sake, turn them out! The Father Resisting. No, no, look here, we⁠ ⁠… The Manager Roaring. We come here to work, you know. Leading Actor One cannot let oneself be made such a fool of. The Father Determined, coming forward. I marvel at your incredulity, gentlemen. Are you not accustomed to see the characters created by an author spring to life in yourselves and face each other? Just because there is no “book” Pointing to the prompter’s box. which contains us, you refuse to believe⁠ ⁠… The Step-Daughter Advances towards The Manager, smiling and coquettish. Believe me, we are really six most interesting characters, sir; sidetracked however. The Father Yes, that is the word! To The Manager all at once. In the sense, that is, that the author who created us alive no longer wished, or was no longer able, materially to put us into a work of art. And this was a real crime, sir; because he who has had the luck to be born a character can laugh even at death. He cannot die. The man, the writer, the instrument of the creation will die, but his creation does not die. And to live for ever, it does not need to have extraordinary gifts or to be able to work wonders. Who was Sancho Panza? Who was Don Abbondio? Yet they live eternally because⁠—live germs as they were⁠—they had the fortune to find a fecundating matrix, a fantasy which could raise and nourish them: make them live for ever! The Manager That is quite all right. But what do you want here, all of you? The Father We want to live. The Manager Ironically. For Eternity? The Father No, sir, only for a moment⁠ ⁠… in you. An Actor Just listen to him! Leading Lady They want to live, in us⁠ ⁠… ! Juvenile Lead Pointing to The Step-Daughter. I’ve no objection, as far as that one is concerned! The Father Look here! look here! The comedy has to be made. To The Manager. But if you and your actors are willing, we can soon concert it among ourselves. The Manager Annoyed. But what do you want to concert? We don’t go in for concerts here. Here we play dramas and comedies! The Father Exactly! That is just why we have come to you. The Manager And where is the “book”? The Father It is in us! The Actors laugh. The drama is in us, and we are the drama. We are impatient to play it. Our inner passion drives us on to this. The Step-Daughter Disdainful, alluring, treacherous, full of impudence. My passion, sir! Ah, if you only knew! My passion for him! Points to The Father and makes a pretence of embracing him. Then she breaks out into a loud laugh. The Father Angrily. Behave yourself! And please don’t laugh in that fashion. The Step-Daughter With your permission, gentlemen, I, who am a two months’ orphan, will show you how I can dance and sing. Sings and then dances Prenez garde a Tchou-Thin-Tchou.

Les chinois sont un peuple malin,
De Shangaî à Pekin,
Ils ont mis des écriteux partout:
Prenez garde à Tchou-Thin-Tchou.

Actors and Actresses Bravo! Well done! Tip-top! The Manager Silence! This isn’t a café concert, you know! Turning to The Father in consternation. Is she mad? The Father Mad? No, she’s worse than mad. The Step-Daughter To The Manager. Worse? Worse? Listen! Stage this drama for us at once! Then you will see that at a certain moment I⁠ ⁠… when this little darling here⁠ ⁠… Takes The Child by the hand and leads her to The Manager. Isn’t she a dear? Takes her up and kisses her. Darling! Darling! Puts her down again and adds feelingly. Well, when God suddenly takes this dear little child away from that poor mother there; and this imbecile here. Seizing hold of The Boy roughly and pushing him forward. does the stupidest things, like the fool he is, you will see me run away. Yes, gentleman, I shall be off. But the moment hasn’t arrived yet. After what has taken place between him and me, Indicates The Father with a horrible wink. I can’t remain any longer in this society, to have to witness the anguish of this mother here for that fool.⁠ ⁠… Indicates The Son. Look at him! Look at him! See how indifferent, how frigid he is, because he is the legitimate son. He despises me, despises him, Pointing to The Boy. despises this baby here; because⁠ ⁠… we are bastards. Goes to The Mother and embraces her. And he doesn’t want to recognize her as his mother⁠—she who is the common mother of us all. He looks down upon her as if she were only the mother of us three bastards. Wretch! She says all this very rapidly, excitedly. At the word “bastards” she raises her voice, and almost spits out the final “Wretch!”. The Mother To The Manager, in anguish. In the name of these two little children, I beg you.⁠ ⁠… She grows faint and is about to fall. Oh God! The Father Coming forward to support her as do some of the Actors. Quick a chair, a chair for this poor widow! The Actors Is it true? Has she really fainted? The Manager Quick, a chair! Here! One of the Actors brings a chair, the others proffer assistance. The Mother tries to prevent The Father from lifting the veil which covers her face. The Father Look at her! Look at her! The Mother No, no; stop it please! The Father Raising her