+Characters+: _Pictures, The_ +Young Man with a Glove+ _... L’Homme
au Gant_, +The Woman at her Toilet+, _supposed to be Laura
Dianti. Other masterpieces, but unseen._
+Human Beings+: _The_ +Glove Young Man+; +Laura+, _an Art-student;
Visitors to the galleries of the Louvre, including a_ +Husband+
_and_ +Wife+, _an_ +Elderly Party+ _from the country with her
niece, a_ +Teacher and her Class+, _and a rhapsodic_ +German
Lady+; _a_ +Gardien+ _of the Louvre galleries._
+Time+: _The present._
+Scene+: _The spot in the Salon Carré of the Louvre where hangs
Titian’s picture, L’Homme au Gant. In front of the railing which
guards the walls is room for persons to pass. At one side is the
regulation velvet-covered bench. On the other, at her easel,
sits_ +Laura+, _making a copy of the picture._
[_As the curtains part, the_ +Husband+ _and_ +Wife+ _enter from the
right._]
+The Husband.+
[_With catalogue, announces with authority._]
Fifteen-ninety-two is L’Homme au Gant.
Ha! French!
+The Wife.+
[_Looking over his shoulder timidly corrects._]
Venetian.
+The Husband.+
L’Homme is French for man.
Gant, glove.
+The Wife.+
Titian. Venetian School. Just look!
+The Husband.+
’Tis not the question where he went to school.
L’Homme stamps him French.
+The Wife.+
[_Timidly venturing a joke._]
Perhaps his gloves are French.
+The Husband.+
[_Determined to find fault._]
Gant, glove, is singular. It should be called
A Man with Pair of Gloves. I shall report
The matter! Come!
[_They pass to the left._]
+Laura.+
Oh, dear! Such people make
Me weary!
+German Lady.+
[_Enters from the left. Speaks rapturously._]
Ach, du lieber ... wunderschön!
[_Some_ +French Visitors+, _entering, accidentally jostle the_
+German Lady+. _Apologies are exchanged in their respective
tongues._]
+One French Visitor.+
[_Looking at the picture._]
Superbe! Magnifique!
+Another French Visitor.+
Pas grande chose!
[_They pass on._]
[_The_ +Elderly Party+ _and_ +Young Woman+ _enter, right._]
+Elderly Party.+
Who’s this young feller?
+German Lady.+
Wunder-wunder-wunderschön!
+Elderly Party.+
[_Consulting catalogue._]
St. George
And Dragon! He’s some dressy for a saint!
And, ef they haven’t left the dragon out!
I allus had a notion I should like
To see one!
+Young Woman.+
[_Beckoning on the left._]
Auntie! Over here!
+Elderly Party.+
[_Joining the_ +Young Woman.+ _Scrutinizes an unseen
masterpiece._]
Do tell!
Is that a dragon? Mercy, ain’t he plain!
+Laura.+
Cattle! Why don’t they stay in home-pastures!
Not come and trample down Elysian fields!
[_Notices_ +German Lady+ _still enraptured._]
Well, on my word, does she intend to spend
The whole day, wunderschöning here? I beg
Your pardon!
+German Lady.+
Fräulein?
+Laura.+
You are not, as you
May think, transparent!
+German Lady.+
[_Apologetically, moving away._]
Fräulein!
+Laura.+
Thanks. The Louvre
Contains some other works of interest!...
The creature acts as if she thought she owned
This portrait!
[_Jealously._]
+Young Man with Glove.+
[_Slightly bored._]
Oh, ta, ta!
+Laura.+
[_Agitated._]
What’s that!
It seemed to move, to say--
+Young Man with Glove.+
Oh, ta, ta, ta!
[_Unable to believe the evidence of her senses_, +Laura+ _resumes
work._ +Teacher and Class+ _enter from the left._]
+Teacher.+
[_Dictating from Baedeker._]
Giorgione’s work.
Take notes. “A Rustic Festival.”
+Class.+
[_Mechanically, taking notes._]
Giorgione, Rustic Festival.
+Teacher.+
[_Dictating._]
Remark the depth and warmth of coloring,
Rich treatment of the landscape!
+Youngest Pupil.+
[_Looking at the picture._]
I don’t see
The landscape!
+Teacher.+
Well, it’s here!
[_Indicating Baedeker, then glances up at picture._]
Oh, wait a bit!
[_Turns over leaves, finding place._]
The After-Dinner Concert.... Magdalen
With Ointment.... Here we are. Young Man in
Black with Glove.
+Some of the Class.+
[_Mechanically, taking notes._]
Young Man in Black Glove.
+Others.+
Black Young Man in Glove!
+The Oldest Pupil.+
What must we say
Of this?
+Teacher.+
[_Dictating._]
“An admirable portrait....”
+Class+
An admirable portrait.
+Youngest Pupil.+
Please. Portrait
Of whom?
+Oldest Pupil.+
[_Glancing up at picture._]
Why, Portrait of a Man!
+Class.+
[_Glancing up at picture._]
Of course!
+Teacher.+
[_Consulting Baedeker._]
No, no. “An admirable portrait of
His Middle Period.”
+Class.+
[_Writing._]
His Middle Period.
+Oldest Pupil.+
How much must we admire this: _very_ much?
+Teacher.+
Marked with but one star, no; not _very_ much.
In the Salon Carré, admire, of course.
One star, more admiration than for those
Without one. But unstinted raptures keep
For double-stars. For instance, this one, here....
[_Leading to the right._]
St. Catharine--Correggio. All take notes.
Of which Vasari says--
+Youngest Pupil.+
[_Lingering._]
We don’t have time
To see the pictures!
+Teacher.+
[_Wearily._]
How can I help that?
An hour is all we have to do the Louvre!
“Of which Vasari says....” Take notes!
+Laura.+
Barbarians! Of all
The hordes, nose-glued to Baedekers, that pass,
Scarce one is worthy to lift eyes to thee,
O masterpiece of masterpieces!
+Young Man with Glove.+
Oh, ta, ta!
+Laura.+
Good Heavens, there it goes again ... ta, ta!
Absurd. I’m dreaming. Eyesight overtaxed,
Nerves play me false. To work again. Right hand
A patch of light, significant that seems
To follow whither eyes direct, those eyes
Alive with challenge, charm! His gracile ease,
As on the parapet he leans, denotes
No haste. We catch him unawares. Near by
Some interlocutor--by which I mean,
God help me!--interlocutress, for whom
He feels a more than common interest!
Oh, for a miracle. Would that those lips
Might break the seal of centuries for me
To learn his secret!
+Young Man with Glove.+
Oh, ta, ta!
+Laura.+
He lives,
Moves, speaks! It is too much to bear! Help! Help!
[_Runs off, left, crying for help._]
+Gardien.+
[_Hurrying on from the right._]
Au secours! Au secours!
[_Seeing nothing demanding his services, he dusts the bench with
his handkerchief._]
+The Husband.+
[_Entering from the left._]
Do come!
+The Wife.+
[_Following, looking back, to the left._]
But that poor girl in trouble!
+The Husband.+
[_Taking his wife’s arm and steering her, right._]
Well,
Don’t look! Don’t meddle with.... How dare you, sir!
[_Bumping into_ +Gardien+ _who is going to the left._]
+Gardien.+
M’sieur! Mille pardons!
+The Husband.+
Certainly not. You ought to be discharged!
[_Going to the right, sees a picture further on, exclaims._]
Bless my soul!
That red-head hussy yonder, doing up
Her hair, while someone, obviously a man,
Holds up two looking-glasses! Shameless thing!
[_Putting up eyeglass to get a better view._]
+The Wife.+
Oh, exquisite! A Titian!
+The Husband.+
A disgrace!
If this is what art’s coming to--!
+The Wife.+
My dear,
That’s an Old Master!
+The Husband.+
Old enough to know
Much better. I shall write a letter to
The Times about it!
[_Exclaims, as the_ +Young Man with Glove+, _leaning forward,
knocks his hat over one eye._]
What a draught! But where
Can it be coming from!
[_Again exclaims, as the_ +Young Man+ _knocks his hat which he
just has righted, over the other eye._]
And where can it
Be going to! I shall report it! Come!
[_He goes to the right, the wife following._]
+Young Man with Glove.+
[_Laughing, emerges from his frame, vaulting neatly over the
railing._]
A neat revenge; eh, compari?
+Unseen Pictures.+
Bravo!
Bravissimo!
+The Woman at her Toilet.+
[_Enters from the right, gathering some rich drapery about
herself._]
Red-head, indeed, and hussy! I can’t wait
Till closing time, Signore, to express
My warmest gratitude.... I fain would say
My heartfelt, had I but a heart; for this
Your gallant championship!
[_Curtseying._]
+Young Man with Glove.+
[_Bowing low._]
With pleasure duty lies in your behalf.
Madonna ... Laura Dianti, I believe?
+Woman at her Toilet.+
A point on which historians divide!
The name suits me as well as any! You,
Signore, were baptized--?
+Young Man with Glove.+
In oils alone!
Unsired, came I into this picture-world!
No human mother bore me that I knew!
Even as you I sprang from hand and brain
Of the Vecelli! But what man he used
As manikin to fit my features on,
Have I forgotten, if I ever knew!
As for a name, oft I amuse myself
By filching one from passers-by! To-day
Carlo of the Neroni seems to ring
Not unbecomingly. What think you?
+Woman at her Toilet.+
Fine!
From whom derived?
+Young Man with Glove.+
A letter that I found
Beside this easel. Charley Black, ’tis signed.
Which I translated.... But why do we stand?
My frame why not enter with me awhile?
+Woman at her Toilet.+
[_Hesitating._]