154
FRÁŇA ŠRÁMEK
Ledynska. He is already dressed, and his face is flushed from sleep, suffused, as it were, with a surplus of energy: in stockings.)
JENIK: Morning, all!
MRS. LEDYNSKA (surprised): He comes flying in like a demon . . . why, we didn't even hear you get up. Well . . . well, you have been sleeping a time.
JENIK (flinging himself on the chair by the table): Like a top, mother, like a top. . . But I'm hungry,—my stomach's making most uncalled-for remarks. My goodness me, Lidka, do move yourself . . . kindly show some slight trace of feeling. . . The food's got to appear on the table, at once. . . Women, women. . . ye shall serve man, somebody once remarked in an enlightened moment . . . Vermicelli soup, mother, eh? I had a dream about vermicelli, last night. It looked like stay-laces, but it was vermicelli, for all that, ha, ha. . . Look alive, my dears, and I'll whistle to you. . . (He whistles a march, while Mrs. Ledynska puts plates on the table.)
LIDKA (who has run into the kitchen, calls out from there): The soup is still warm, but the cutlet—
MRS. LEDYNSKA: Shall we warm up the cutlet for you?
JENIK:. . . over here with it, I'll manage to warm it up somehow. (Tapping Mrs.
