Josi. [Raising his voice in victorious derision.] Going—going—at five per shent! Dat’sh right. Now den, business! Any offer?... Don’t be in a hurry, gentlemen ... take your time! De picture is not going to run away: you can examine it, gentlemen, and shee dat dere is no deception. If dere ever wash any deception it was dree hundred years ago, when de man who painted it ran away from his creditors and pretended dat he had gone into de picture. Dere’sh de shtory for you—all complete.... Well? What offer? Won’t anybody make any offer?
[Olangsti pushes forward to bid; Apprentices and Craftsmen surround him, and hold out their hands, demanding money.
Crier. [Without.] Only ten sen! Only ten sen! Any buy?
Josi. Ten sen? Somebody offers ten sen. I presume dat he means ten yen? We’ll call it ten yen: de picture’s worth it.
Crier. [Without.] Only ten sen! Only ten sen!
Josi. Very well, ten sen! Going at ten sen! Going at ten sen! A picture dat ish dree hundred years old and still going strong! Now is your chance! Dish will not happen again.
Olang. Ah! ah! ah!
[At the word ‘going’ the picture comes dimly to life. In a veiled indistinctness Wiowani is seen seated within it. Olangsti sees, and lifting his hands wails despairingly. The crowd stares, stolidly amazed.
Crier. [Without.] Only ten sen! Only ten sen!
Josi. Well?... What for you shtaring at me? I am not de picture! Dere is de picture: a beautiful picture dat shpeaks for itshelf! A real picture,—wid a shtory in it dat may always come true. What? Will nobody give any more? Very well. At ten sen!—for dish time only—going at ten sen! Going, going.... [He turns.] Gone!!!