The Lecturer

(Variation IV)
Consolation: Piano Solo

( He continues to improvise, completely at ease.)

Ah, how I love music! At one time- I was go-ing to become a musician. Naturally, she oesn't. Like music, I mean.

No birds ever sang for her. No string quartets. No operas for her. She won't even sing hymns in a church to save her own soul.

(Still accompanying himself at the piano he sings proudly in a splendid voice.)

To every man and nation
Comes the moment to decide
Then it is the brave man chooses
While the cow ard stands aside:

New occasions come but rarely.
Offring each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever:
'Twixt the darkness and the light.

(He continues to remain at the piano, accompanying himself.)

By the way, I teach solfeggio and arithmetic and chemistry and geography and history and Latin and Latin and Latin and Latin and Latin and Latin and Latin and Latin!

Lobipes lobatus; Phalacrocorax carbo; Sterna dougalli. For dancing, drawing or singing, my wife charges extra.;

I also teach dancing, drawing and singing. Our school is located in Waterloo Lane... Number thirteen!

(He strikes a harsh chord and rises suddenly to pace agitatedly about the rostrum. At points indicated he crosses the beam of light between projector and screen which, temporarily blinds him and superimposes his enlarged shadow among the images of the birds.)

I suppose my life has been a failure because the number of our house is thirteen. And all my daughters were born on the thirteenth.

(An idea comes. He stops pacing and ponders; closes his eyes and mentally counts while his pointer jabs in space.)

I might have known! Even the house has thirteen windows.

Thirteen! Thirteen! Nothing succeeds with me. I've grown old and stupid. Of course, l seem cheerful and happy; after all, here I am, delivering a lecture on the habits of waterbirds.

Oh, but if you only knew. If you only knew how I long to cry out at the top of my voice!

(He moves quickly to the footlights and anxiously surveys the audience.)

Only there's nobody there to cry out to. Your daughters, you will say. Ha! ha! My daughters. I try to talk to them and they only laugh at me.

Latin I taught them, and singing and drawing but that much they managed to learn flom her! Oh, sometimes I yearn, I yearn to fly away, away, fly away to the ends of the earth to fly away like...like...

To You


Stranger, if you passing, meet me,
And desire to speak to me,
Why should you not speak to me?
And why should I not speak to you?


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