ANNA [_happily_]. I go, I go, I go and I shall never come back! And do not beg me and do not come after me. I have no more strength to have pity, when I say good-by, I shall be as dead to you! [_Runs off into her room. Paolo stunned, stares after her awaiting for her return. Anna returns with her hat and cloak, crosses to exit._]
PAOLO. No, Anna, no, no, no. Anna, no. For pity's sake wait! We are both mad. What will become of us? I need you. [_Paolo tries to get in her way to stop her._] Do not go. I do not want you to--remain here. I was crazy--do not go, you will see that--for all my life--[_Anna tries to break away._] No, for pity's sake--if you go--if you break from me--if you speak--I feel that this will be the end of everything! Remain! Remain, Anna! [_She breaks away._]
BY LEONID ANDREYEV TRANSLATED BY THOMAS SELTZER.
Copyright, 1914, by Albert and Charles Boni.
Reprinted from "The Plays of the Washington Square Players," published by Frank Shay.
The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by Mr. Thomas Seltzer. Applications for permission to produce the play should be made to Mr. Seltzer, 5 West 50th St., New York City.
_A man in an attitude of despair is standing on a tiny projection of a rock that rises almost sheer from the ground. How he got there it is not easy to say, but he cannot be reached either from above or below. Short ladders, ropes and sticks show that attempts have been made to save the unknown person, but without success._
_It seems that the unhappy man has been in that desperate position a long time. A considerable crowd has already collected, extremely varied in composition. There are venders of cold drinks; there is a whole little bar behind which the bartender skips about out of breath and perspiring--he has more on his hands than he can attend to; there are peddlers selling picture postal cards, coral beads, souvenirs, and all sorts of trash. One fellow is stubbornly trying to dispose of a tortoise-shell comb, which is really not tortoise-shell. Tourists keep pouring in from all sides, attracted by the report that a catastrophe is impending--Englishmen, Americans, Germans, Russians, Frenchmen, Italians, etc., with all their peculiar national traits of character, manner and dress. Nearly all carry alpenstocks, field-glasses and cameras. The conversation is in different languages, all of which, for the convenience of the reader, we shall translate into English._