off. An OFFICER sits at the table, on which there are bottles of champagne and glasses. Beside him sits a musician taking down the song.
AFRÉMOV (standing L. U.). Asleep?
FÉDYA (on couch L. Raising his hand warningly). Sh! Don't talk! Now let's have "No More at Evening."
GYPSY LEADER. Impossible, Fedor Protosov. Masha must have her solo first.
FÉDYA. Afterwards. Now let's have "No More at Evening."
GYPSY WOMAN (R. C., when they finish singing, turning to Musician who is sitting at table R., with his back to audience). Have you got it?
MUSICIAN. It's impossible to take it down correctly. They change the tune each time, and they seem to have a different scale, too. (He calls a gypsy woman.) Is this it?
[He hums a bar or two.
GYPSY WOMAN (clapping her hands). Splendid! Wonderful! How can you do it?
FÉDYA (rising. Goes to table L. back of couch and pours out glass of wine). He'll never get it. And even if he did and shovelled it into an opera, he'd make it se
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