Page:Poet Lore, volume 36, 1925.pdf/404

 old man; and besides, the Princess, and goodness knows who else—And perhaps they intend staying here—brr—

(Carries both chairs to the left, where he turns them upside down, and again retires to the stairs on left.

Zan (Carrying a table with the ).—To the front, farther to the front, so—

Maid.—So the Count is really not coming?

Zan.—I believe not.—But why are you running away?

Maid.—I’m afraid of that—I keep thinking he is standing behind me—uh!

Zan.—The dead monk?

Maid.—Does he walk here?

Zan.—Sometimes.

screams slightly, is about to run.

Zan.—Are you crazy, Tereza? Now for the chairs. (Turns to the right.) They are not here. Why, I placed them right here.

Maid (Frightened).—And they are over there and upside down!

Zan.—Did you do that?

Maid.—I didn’t even have them in my hands.

Zan.—You don’t say so!

Maid.—Don’t you remember, I didn’t leave your side for a single step.

Zan.—And I stood them yonder and now they are—That happened while we were fetching the table—

Maid.—But who, who,—who? would— Perhaps the—oh!

Zan.—The dead monk. But it isn’t midnight yet.

Maid.—Come, let us get away from here I am getting terrified?

sighs deeply.

Maid.—Did you hear that? (Grasps by the hand.) Come, for mercy’s sake, come! (Pulls after her to the door.)

Zan.—But Tereza, perhaps that was mere imagination. (Stands at the door, looks about.)

, on the bottom step on the left, stands rigid, silent, with eyes glaring threatingly.

Zan.—O! (Involuntarily crosses himself.) screams