[He is now in.  A towel is tied about his head with a big blotch of red ink over his temple.  He carries a broom as a flagstaff to which a red bandanna handkerchief is attached as a red flag.]

No ot tigee do bretanskeye morye
Armeya krasnaya vsekh seelnaye.

[On chorus, MARTIN’S better voice cuts in strong.  He seizes LAURA by the arm, forcing her to march with TIPPY. And KEN, beating time with goose step, also sings.]

ALL.  Tak poost Zheh krasnaya
            Shumayet vlasno
            Svoe shtik mozoleestoy rookoy
            Es vse dolshnee mwee
            Neudersheemo
            Ette v poslednee sharkee boy.
            [This chorus repeats.]

[The BISHOP has appeared in the open doorway; they do not see him and march and sing lustily, BISHOP HOLDEN stands and watches them in growing consternation.  They see him and stop suddenly.  Only MARTIN’S voice finishes the last line.]

LAURA.  Bishop Holden!

BISHOP.  What is this?

KEN.  Hello, Dad.

TIPPY.  Just a bit of fun. [He tosses the broom with its flag into a corner, but has forgotten to take off bandage.  He steps up and offers his hand to the Bishop.] How are you, sir?

BISHOP. [Shaking hands.] What is the matter with your head?

TIPPY.  Oh Jesus! [Yanks off towel.]

BISHOP.  Were you rehearsing for a theatrical?

TIPPY.  Full dress.  My wound was dressed with red ink.

BISHOP.  And that song you were singing?  I couldn’t quite place it.

MARTIN.  That’s a Red Army song.

BISHOP.  Red Army?

MARTIN.  Soviet—­Russian.

BISHOP.  So you were all engaged in a little burlesque?  Sorry to have disturbed you.

MARTIN.  Tippy was making it burlesque.  He refuses to take anything seriously.

BISHOP.  And the—­uh—­occasion?

MARTIN.  The occasion was that I had just brought home those posters.

BISHOP. [Looking at the posters.] Ah, I see.

MARTIN.  How do you like them?

BISHOP.  The lettering has some Greek characters.  I take it that is
Russian?

KEN.  Of course, dad.  They’re Soviet posters.—­A rather distinctive form of art.

BISHOP.  Ah, it is the unique art and the martial music you find entertaining—­or were you burlesquing a Communist meeting?

KEN.  It was just Tippy’s idea of fun.

BISHOP. [Not quite satisfied.] But you were all singing that song as if you know it well.

LAURA.  Martin’s always singing it—­till we’ve memorized it without the least idea what it means.

BISHOP. [Satisfied.] Ah yes, of course.  I once learned a Japanese song.

MARTIN.  I’m studying Russian.

KEN.  It’s quite a language, dad.  It would be easy for you with your knowledge of Greek.