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diff --git a/31081-h/31081-h.htm b/31081-h/31081-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e5bef4 --- /dev/null +++ b/31081-h/31081-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23862 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + +<head> +<title>The German Classics: Masterpieces of German Literature. Vol. XX.</title> +<meta name="Editor" content="Kuno Francke"> +<meta name="Publisher" content="The German Publication Society"> +<meta name="Date" content="1914"> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { + line-height:100%; + font-size: 14pt; + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + background-color:#FFFFFF; +} + + +p.normal { + text-indent:.25in; + text-align: justify; +} +p.center { + text-align:center; + margin-top:9pt; +} + +p.hang1 { margin-left:1.5em; + text-indent:-1.5em; + text-align: justify; +} +p.hang2 { margin-left:3.5em; + text-indent:-2em; + text-align: justify; +} +p.hang3 {margin-left:7em; + text-indent:-7em} +p.hang4 {margin-left:7em; +} +p.hang5 {margin-left:9.5em; + text-indent:-1em} + + +p.right { + text-align:right; + margin-top: 9pt; + margin-right:25%;} + + +p.continue { + text-indent: 0in; + margin-top:9pt; +} + + + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} + +span.sc {font-variant: small-caps;} +span.space {letter-spacing: 2pt; } + +hr.ftn { text-align:left; width:30%; margin-top:48pt; color:black; } +div.ftn { font-size: 100%; margin-top:9pt; color:#000000} +sup.ftnRef {font-size:100%; color:black; } +p.ftnText { margin-left: 3em; text-indent: -1em; margin-top:14pt; text-align:justify; } +div.ftnlast { font-size: 90%; margin-top:9pt; margin-bottom:64pt; color:#000000} + + + +.pagenum { + display: inline; + font-size:80%; + text-align: left; + position: absolute; left: 1%; +} + +hr.W10 { + width:10%; + margin-top:12pt; + margin-bottom:12pt; + color:black; +} +hr.W20 { + width:20%; + margin-top:12pt; + margin-bottom:12pt; + color:black; +} +</style> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics, v. 20, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The German Classics, v. 20 + Masterpieces of German Literature + +Author: Various + +Editor: Kuno Francke + +Release Date: January 25, 2010 [EBook #31081] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GERMAN CLASSICS, V. 20 *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from scans obtained from The +Internet Archive. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<p class="continue">Transcriber's Note: Source of this book is found in the Web Archive at +http://www.archive.org/details/germanclassicsof20franuoft</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>VOLUME XX</h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_wassermann" href="#div1_wassermann">JAKOB WASSERMANN</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_kellermann" href="#div1_kellermann">BERNHARD KELLERMANN</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_halbe" href="#div1_halbe">MAX HALBE</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_hofmannsthal" href="#div1_hofmannsthal">HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_schnitzler" href="#div1_schnitzler">ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_wedekind" href="#div1_wedekind">FRANK WEDEKIND</a></h2> + +<h2><a name="div1Ref_hardt" href="#div1_hardt">ERNST HARDT</a></h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_front" href="#pixRef_front"><img src="images/warden.png" alt="The_Warden_of_Paradise"></a></p> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>THE GERMAN CLASSICS</h1> +<br> +<h3>Masterpieces of German Literature</h3> +<br> +<h4>TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH</h4> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>Patron's Edition</h4> +<h4>IN TWENTY VOLUMES</h4> +<br> +<h4>ILLUSTRATED</h4> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>THE GERMAN PUBLICATION SOCIETY</h3> +<h3>NEW YORK</h3> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<p class="center">Copyright 1914<br> +by<br> +<span class="sc">The German Publication Society</span></p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTRIBUTORS AND TRANSLATORS</h2> +<h4>VOLUME XX</h4> +<hr class="W20"> + +<h4>Special Writers</h4> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Amelia von Ende:</span></p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">The Contemporary German Drama.</p> + +<h4>Translators</h4> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul H. Grummann, A.M.</span>, Professor of +Modern German Literature, University of Nebraska:</p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">Mother Earth.</p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Bayard Quincy Morgan</span>, Ph.D., Assistant +Professor of German, University of Wisconsin:</p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">The Marriage of Sobeide.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">John Heard, Jr.</span>:</p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">Tristram the Jester.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Katharine Royce:</span></p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">God's Beloved.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albert Wilhelm Boesche</span>, Ph.D., +Assistant Professor of German, Cornell University:</p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">The Court Singer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">A. I. du P. Coleman, A.M.</span>, Professor of +English Literature, College of the City of New York:</p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">Literature.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Julia Franklin:</span></p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">Clarissa Mirabel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Horace Samuel:</span></p> +<p style="text-indent:3em">The Green Cockatoo.</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTENTS OF VOLUME XX</h2> + + +<table style="margin-left:10%;"> +<colgroup><col style="width:90%;vertical-align:top"><col style="width:10%; text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom"></colgroup> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" style="text-align:right"><span class="sc">PAGE</span></td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>JAKOB WASSERMANN</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_mirabel" href="#div2_mirabel">Clarissa Mirabel</a>. Translated by Julia Franklin</td> +<td>1</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>BERNHARD KELLERMANN</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_beloved" href="#div2_beloved">God's Beloved</a>. Translated by Katharine Royce</td> +<td>59</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_drama" href="#div2_drama">The Contemporary German Drama</a>. By Amelia von Ende</td> +<td>94</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>MAX HALBE</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_earth" href="#div2_earth">Mother Earth</a>. Translated by Paul H. Grummann</td> +<td>111</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><p class="hang1"><a name="div2Ref_sobeide" href="#div2_sobeide">The Marriage of Sobeide</a>. Translated by Bayard Quincy Morgan</p></td> +<td>234</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_cockatoo" href="#div2_cockatoo">The Green Cockatoo</a>. Translated by Horace Samuel</td> +<td>289</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_literature" href="#div2_literature">Literature</a>. Translated by A. I. du P. Coleman</td> +<td>332</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>FRANK WEDEKIND</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_singer" href="#div2_singer">The Court Singer</a>. Translated by Albert Wilhelm Boesche</td> +<td>360</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="2"><h3>ERNST HARDT</h3></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="div2Ref_tristram" href="#div2_tristram">Tristram the Jester</a>. Translated by John Heard, Jr.</td> +<td>398</td> +</tr></table> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS—VOLUME XX</h2> + + +<table style="margin-left:10%" class="page2"> +<colgroup><col style="width:90%;vertical-align:top"><col style="width:10%; text-align:right; vertical-align:bottom"></colgroup> +<tr> +<td colspan="2" style="text-align:right"><span class="sc">PAGE</span></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_front" href="#pix_front">The Warden of Paradise</a>. By Franz von Stuck</td> +<td>Frontispiece</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_20" href="#pix_20">Jakob Wassermann</a></td> +<td>20</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_40" href="#pix_40">Bathing Woman</a>. By Rudolf Riemerschmid</td> +<td>40</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_70" href="#pix_70">Hera</a>. By Hans Unger</td> +<td>70</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_100" href="#pix_100">In the Shade</a>. By Leo Putz</td> +<td>100</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_130" href="#pix_130">Max Halbe</a></td> +<td>130</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_160" href="#pix_160">Mother Earth</a>. By Robert Weise</td> +<td>160</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_190" href="#pix_190">Fording the Water</a>. By Heinrich von Zügel</td> +<td>190</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_220" href="#pix_220">Sheep</a>. By Heinrich von Zügel</td> +<td>220</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_240" href="#pix_240">Lake in the Grunewald</a>. By Walter Leistikow</td> +<td>240</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_260" href="#pix_260">Lake in the Grunewald</a>. By Walter Leistikow</td> +<td>260</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_280" href="#pix_280">A Brandenburg Lake</a>. By Walter Leistikow</td> +<td>280</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_290" href="#pix_290">Arthur Schnitzler</a></td> +<td>290</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_310" href="#pix_310">Henrik Ibsen</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>310</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_330" href="#pix_330">Georg Brandes</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>330</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_340" href="#pix_340">Gerhart Hauptmann</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>340</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_350" href="#pix_350">Paul Heyse</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>350</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_360" href="#pix_360">Frank Wedekind</a></td> +<td>360</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_370" href="#pix_370">Siegfried Wagner</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>370</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_380" href="#pix_380">Leo Tolstoy</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>380</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_390" href="#pix_390">D. Mommsen</a>. (From Olaf Gulbransson's "Famous Contemporaries")</td> +<td>390</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_420" href="#pix_420">Ernst Hardt</a></td> +<td>420</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_440" href="#pix_440">A Daughter of the People</a>. By Karl Haider</td> +<td>440</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><a name="pixRef_480" href="#pix_480">Approaching Thunderstorm</a>. By Karl Haider</td> +<td>480</td> +</tr></table> + + + +<p class="continue">[Blank Page]</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>EDITOR'S NOTE</h2> + + + +<p class="normal">This, the last volume of <span class="sc">THE GERMAN CLASSICS</span>, +was intended to be devoted to the contemporary drama exclusively. But the +harvest of the contemporary German Short Story is so rich that an overflow from +Volume XIX had to be accommodated in Volume XX. It is hoped that this has not +seriously crippled the representative character of the dramatic selections, +although the editors are fully aware of the importance of such dramatists as +Herbert Eulenberg, Wilhelm Schmidtbonn, or Fritz von Unruh. The principal +tendencies, at any rate, of the hopeful and eager activity which distinguishes +the German stage of today are brought out in this volume with sufficient +clearness, especially in combination with the selections from Schönherr and +Hofmannsthal in Volumes XVI and XVII.</p> + +<p class="normal">The European war, unfortunately, has prevented us from making +the selections from contemporary German painting in Volumes XIX and XX as varied +and representative as we had hoped.</p> + +<p class="right">KUNO FRANCKE.</p> + + +<p class="continue">[Blank page]</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_wassermann" href="#div1Ref_wassermann">JAKOB WASSERMANN</a></h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div2_mirabel" href="#div2Ref_mirabel">CLARISSA MIRABEL (1906)</a></h2> +<h3>TRANSLATED BY JULIA FRANKLIN</h3> + +<p class="normal">In the little town of Rodez, situated on the western side of +the Cévennes and washed by the waters of the river Aveyron, there lived a lawyer +by the name of Fualdes, a commonplace man, neither good nor bad. Notwithstanding +his advanced age, he had only recently retired from affairs, and his finances +were in such a bad shape that he was obliged, in the beginning of the year 1817, +to dispose of his estate of La Morne. With the proceeds he meant to retire to +some quiet spot and live on the interest of his money. One evening—it was the +nineteenth of March—he received from the purchaser of the estate, President +Seguret, the residue of the purchase-money in bills and securities, and, after +locking the papers in his desk, he left the house, having told the housekeeper +that he had to go to La Morne once more in order to make some necessary +arrangements with the tenant.</p> + +<p class="normal">He neither reached La Morne nor returned to his home. The +following morning a tailor's wife from the village of Aveyron saw his body lying +in a shallow of the river, ran to Rodez and fetched some people back with her. +The rocky slope was precipitously steep at that point, rising to a height of +about forty feet. A great piece of the narrow footpath which led from Rodez to +the vineyards had crumbled away, and it was doubtless owing to that circumstance +that the unfortunate man had been precipitated to the bottom. It had rained very +heavily the day before, and the soil on top had, according to the testimony of a +number of people who worked in the vineyards, been loose for a long time. It +seemed a singular fact that there was a deep gash in the throat of the dead man; +but as jagged stones projected all over the rocky surface of the slope, such an +injury explained itself. On examination of the steep wall, no traces of blood +were found on stone or earth. The rain had washed away everything.</p> + +<p class="normal">The news of the occurrence spread rapidly, and all through the +day two or three hundred people from Rodez—men, women, and children—were +standing on both shores staring with a look of fascination and self-induced +horror into the depths of the ravine. The question was raised whether it was not +a will-o'-the-wisp that had misled the old man. A woman alleged that she had +spoken with a shepherd who declared he had heard a cry for help; this, it is +true, occurred about midnight, and Fualdes had left his house at eight o'clock. +A stout tinker contended that the darkness had not been as dense as all +believed; he himself had crossed the fields, on his way from La Valette, at nine +o'clock, and the moon was then shining. The inspector of customs took him +severely to task, and informed him that a new moon had made its appearance the +day before, as one could easily find out by looking in the calendar. The tinker +shrugged his shoulders, as if to say that in such conjunctures even the calendar +was not to be trusted.</p> + +<p class="normal">When it grew dusk the people wandered homeward, in pairs and +groups, now chatting, now silent, now whispering with an air of mystery. Like +dogs that have become suspicious and keep circling about the same spot, they +strained with hungry eagerness for a new excitement. They looked searchingly in +front of them, heard with sharpened ears every word that was uttered. Some cast +suspicious side-glances at each other; those who had money closed their doors +and counted their money over. At night in the taverns the guests told of the +great riches that the miserly Fualdes had accumulated; he had, it was said, sold +La Morne only because he shrank from compelling the lessee, Grammont, who was +his nephew, by legal means to pay two years' arrears of rent.</p> + +<p class="normal">The spoken word hung halting on the lips, carrying a +half-framed thought in its train. It was an accepted fact among the citizens +that Fualdes, the liberal Protestant, a former official of the Empire, had been +annoyed by threats against his life. The dark fancies spun busily at the web of +fear. Those who still believed it was an accident refrained from expressing +their reasons; they had to guard against suspicion falling upon themselves. +Already a band of confederates was designated, drawn from the Legitimist party, +now become inimical, threatening, arrogant. Dark hatred pointed to the Jesuits +and their missions as instigators of the mysterious deed. How often had justice +halted when the power of the mighty shielded the criminal!</p> + +<p class="normal">The spring sun of the ensuing day shone upon tense, agitated, +eager faces gradually inflamed to fierceness. The Royalists began to fear for +their belongings; in order to protect themselves, infected as they, too, were by +the general horror which emanated from the unknown, they admitted that a crime +had been perpetrated. But how? and where? and through whom?</p> + +<p class="normal">A cobbler has a better memory, as a rule, and a more active +brain, than other people. The shoemaker, Escarboeuf, used to gather his +neighbors and trusty comrades about him now and then at the hour of vespers. He +remembered exactly what the doctor had said on the discovery of the corpse; he +was standing close by and had heard every syllable. "It almost looks as if the +man had been murdered;" those were the astonished words of the doctor when he +was examining the wound in the throat. "Murdered? what are you saying, man?" +interposed one of the company. "Yes, murdered!" cried the cobbler +triumphantly.—"But it is said that there was sand sticking to the wound," +remarked a young man shyly.—"O pshaw! sand, sand!" retorted the shoemaker, "What +does sand prove anyway?"—"No, sand proves nothing," all of them admitted. And by +midday the report in all the houses of the quarter ran: Fualdes had been +murdered, he had been butchered. The word gave the inflamed minds a picture, the +whispering tongues a hint.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now, by a strange chance it happened that on that fateful +evening the night watchman had deposited in the guardroom a cane with an ivory +knob and a gilt ring, which he had found in front of the Bancal dwelling, +separated from lawyer Fualdes' house by the Rue de l'Ambrague, a dark cross +street. Fualdes' housekeeper, an old deaf woman, asserted positively that the +cane was the property of her master; her assertion seemed incontestable. A long +time after, it came to light that the cane belonged to a traveling tradesman who +had spent the night carousing in the company of some wenches; but at the time, +attention was at once turned to the Bancal house, a dilapidated, gloomy building +with musty, dirty corners. It had formerly been owned by a butcher, and pigs +were still kept in the yard. It was a house of assignation and was visited +nightly by soldiers, smugglers, and questionable-looking girls; now and then, +too, heavily veiled ladies and aristocratic-looking men slipped in and out. On +the ground floor there lived, beside the Bancal couple, a former soldier, +Colard, and his sweetheart, the wench Bedos, and the humpbacked Missonier; above +them, there dwelt an old Spaniard, by the name of Saavedra, and his wife; he was +a political refugee who had sought protection in France.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the afternoon of the twenty-first of March, the soldier, +Colard, was standing at the corner of the Rue de l'Ambrague, playing a +monotonous air on his flute, one that he had learned from the shepherds of the +Pyrenees. The shopkeeper, Galtier, came up the road, stood still, made a +pretense of listening, but finally interrupted the musician, addressing him +severely: "Why do you gad about and pretend to be ignorant, Colard? Don't you +know, then, that the murder is said to have been committed in your house?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Colard, brushing his scrubby moustache from his lips, replied +that he and Missonier had been in Rose Feral's tavern, alongside the Bancal +house, that night. "Had I heard a noise, sir," he said boastfully, "I should +have gone to the rescue, for I have two guns."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who else was at Rose Feral's?" pursued the shopkeeper. Colard +meditated and mentioned Bach and Bousquier, two notorious smugglers. "The +rascals, they had better be on their guard," said the shopkeeper, "and you, +Colard, come along with me; poor Fualdes is going to be buried, and it is not +fitting to be playing the flute."</p> + +<p class="normal">Scarcely had they reached the main street, where a great +number of people had collected, when they were suddenly joined by Bousquier, who +exhibited a strange demeanor, now laughing, now shaking his head, now gazing +vacantly before him. Colard cast a shy, sidelong glance at him, and the +shopkeeper, who thought of nothing but the murder and saw in all this the +manifestations of a bad conscience, observed the man keenly. Those around them, +too, became watchful, and it at once struck everybody that if any one had a +knowledge of the crime committed in the Bancal house, it was Bousquier. The +excited Galtier questioned him bluntly. Bousquier was the worse for liquor, the +unusual hubbub intoxicated him still more; he seemed confused, but felt himself, +at the same time, a person of importance. At first he assumed an air of +unwillingness to speak out, then he related with solemn circumstantiality that +he was summoned on the night of the murder by a tobacco-dealer clad in a blue +coat; three times had the stranger sent for him, finally he went, was told to +carry a heavy bundle, and was paid with a gold piece.</p> + +<p class="normal">Even while he was speaking, an expression of horror ran across +the face of the loquacious fellow; he grew gradually conscious of the +significance of his words. The listeners had formed a compact circle around him, +and a shrill voice rang out from the crowd: "It was surely the corpse that was +wrapped up in that bundle!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Bousquier looked uneasy. He had to start at the beginning +again and again, and the strained glances turned upon him forced him to invent +new minor details, such as that the tobacco-dealer suddenly disappeared in an +unaccountable manner, and that his face was concealed by a black mask, "Where +did you have to carry the body?" asked Galtier, with clenched teeth. Bousquier, +horrified, remained silent; then, intimidated by the many threatening glances, +he replied in a low tone: "Toward the river."</p> + +<p class="normal">Two hours later he was arrested and put behind bolts and bars. +That same evening he was brought before the police magistrate, Monsieur Jausion, +and when the unfortunate man became aware that the matter was growing grave, +that his chatter was to be turned into evidence, that every word he spoke was +being noted down, and that he would have to answer for them with his freedom, +nay, perhaps with his life, he was seized with terror. He denied the story of +the tobacco-dealer and the heavy bundle, and when the magistrate grew angry, +relapsed into complete silence. On being remanded to his cell he fell into a +dull brooding. "Come, wake up, Bousquier," the jailer exhorted him, "you mustn't +keep the gentlemen waiting; if you are stubborn, you will have to pass some bad +nights."</p> + +<p class="normal">Bousquier shook his head. The jailer fetched a heavy folio, +and as he himself could not read, he called another prisoner, who was made to +read aloud a passage of the law, according to which a person who was present by +compulsion at the commission of a crime, and voluntarily confessed it, would get +off with a year's imprisonment. The jailer held the lantern close to the tanned +face of the reader and nodded encouragingly to Bousquier. The latter was +mumbling the Lord's Prayer. Greatly agitated, and groping about for a way out of +his plight, he said finally that everything was as he had first related, only +the tobacco-dealer had paid him not with a gold-piece but a couple of silver +coins. He repeated his confession before the magistrate, who had been summoned +despite the lateness of the hour.</p> + +<p class="normal">The next morning all Rodez knew that Bousquier had confessed +that Fualdes had been murdered in the Bancal house, and the body carried at +night to the river. Lips that had up to that time been sealed with fear were +suddenly opened. Some one, whose name could not be ascertained, declared that he +had seen some figures stealing past the house of Constans the merchant; he had +also noticed that they halted some steps further on and drew together for +consultation, whereupon, divining the horrible deed, he fled. The search for +this witness, whose voice died away so quickly amid the other voices, and yet +who was the first to trace, as with an invisible hand, a sketch of the nocturnal +funeral train, proved vain. Each one's fancy silently carried out the picture +further; they saw the body itself on the stretcher; the bier was depicted with +distinctness as if it were a concrete token of the mysterious deed; a carpenter +even drew it in chalk in bold strokes on the wall of the court-house. A woman +who suffered from insomnia stated that she was sitting at the window that night +and in spite of the darkness, recognized Bancal as well as the soldier, Colard, +who were bearing the two front handles of the bier. Furthermore, she had heard +the laborer, Missonier, who closed the procession, cursing. Summoned before the +magistrate, she fell into a contradictory mood, which was excused on the score +of her readily-comprehended excitement. But the words had been said; what weight +should be attached to them depended on the force and peculiarity of the +circumstances; the lightly spoken word weighed as heavily in the ears of the +chance auditor as if it had been his own guilt, so that he sought to free +himself of the burden and passed it on as if it would burn his tongue should he +delay but a moment. Perhaps it was this sleepless woman, perhaps the lips of +nameless Rumor herself, that enriched the picture of this murder-caravan with +the figure of a tall, broad-shouldered man, armed with a double-barreled gun, +who headed the procession. Now the gray web had a central point, and received a +sort of illumination and vividness through the probable and penetrable +criminality of a single individual. Twelve hours more, and every child knew the +exact order of the nocturnal procession: first, the tall, powerful man with the +double-barreled gun, then Bancal, Bach and Bousquier, bearing the bier, then the +humpbacked Missonier, as rear-guard. At the last houses of the town the road to +the river grew narrow and steep; as there was not room enough for two people to +walk abreast, Bousquier and Colard had to carry the body alone, and it was +Bousquier, not Missonier, who cursed, on that account, cursed so loud that the +licentiate, Coulon, was startled from his sleep and called for his servant. On +the steep place in front of the vineyards the body of the dead man was unwrapped +and thrown into the water, and when that had been done, the tall, powerful man, +pointing his gun at his confederates, imposed eternal silence upon them.</p> + +<p class="normal">By this action the stranger with the double-barreled gun +emerged completely from the mist of legend and the position of a merely +picturesque accessory; his threatening attitude shed a flood of light upon the +past. What had taken place after the murder, then, had outline and life. But had +no eye accompanied poor Fualdes on his last walk? Had no one seen him leave his +house, without any foreboding, and, whistling merrily perhaps, pass through the +dark Rue de l'Ambrague, where the accomplices of the murder doubtless lay in +waiting? Yes. The same licentiate whom Bousquier's cursing had roused from his +sleep had seen the old man at eight in the evening turn into the narrow street, +and shortly after some one follow hastily behind him; whether a man or a woman, +Monsieur Coulon could not remember. Besides, a locksmith's apprentice came +forward who had observed, from the mayor's residence, some persons signaling to +each other. The mayor's dwelling was situated, it is true, in a different +quarter of the town, but that circumstance was considered of little account in +so widespun a conspiracy—had they not the testimony of a coachman who had seen +two men standing motionless in the Rue des Hebdomadiers? Many of the inhabitants +of that street now recalled that they had heard a constant whispering, hemming +and hawing, and calling, to which, being in an unsuspicious mood at the time, +they naturally paid no special heed. It was an accepted fact that watchers were +posted at every corner, nay, even a female sentinel had been observed in the +gateway of the Guildhall. The tailor, Brost, asserted that he had heard the +whispering or sighing more distinctly than any one else; he had, thereupon, +opened his window and seen five or six people enter the Bancal house, among them +the tall, powerful man. Some time after, a neighbor had observed a person being +dragged over the pavement; believing it was a girl who had drunk too much, he +attached no further significance to it. Far more important than such confused +rumors did it seem that as late as between nine and ten o'clock, an +organ-grinder was still playing in the Rue des Hebdomadiers. The purpose was +clear: it was to drown the death-cry of the victim. It soon turned out that +there must have been two organ-grinders, one of whom, a cripple, had squatted on +the curbstone in front of the Rue de l'Ambrague. To be sure, it had been the +annual fair-day in Rodez, and the presence of organ-grinders would, therefore, +not have signified anything mysterious, if the lateness of the hour had not +exposed them to suspicion. Several persons even mentioned midnight as the time +of the playing. A search was instituted for the musicians, and the villages in +the vicinity were scoured for them, but they had disappeared as completely as +the suspicious tobacco-dealer.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the same morning when the Bancal house was searched and a +policeman found a white cloth with dark spots in the yard, the Bancals, Bach, +and the laborer Missonier, were taken into custody and, loaded with chains, were +thrown into prison. Staring vacantly before them, the five men sat in the police +wagon, which, followed by a crowd of people, chattering, cursing, and clenching +their fists, carried them through the streets. The report of the cloth +discovered in the yard spread in an instant; that the spots were blood-spots +admitted no doubt; that it had been used to gag Fualdes was a matter of course.</p> + +<p class="normal">Meanwhile Bousquier, all unstrung by his miserable plight, +dragged from one hearing to another, alarmed by threats, racked by hunger, +enticed by hopes of freedom and illusory promises, had confessed more and more +daily. He was driven by the jailer, he was driven by the magistrate; for the +latter felt the impatience and fury of the people, and the fables of the press, +like the lash of a whip. Bousquier had seemed to be stubborn; but the +presentation of his former stories, which now, like creditors, extorted an +ever-increasing usurious interest of lies, sufficed to render him tractable. He +appeared to be worn out, to be incapable of expressing what he had seen, of +describing what he had heard,—Monsieur Jausion assisted him by questions which +contained the required answers.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thus he admitted that he had gone into the Bancal house, and +found the Bancals, the soldier Colard, the smuggler Bach, two young women, and a +veiled lady in the room. The more persons he mentioned, the more conciliatory +grew the countenance of the magistrate, and, as though into the jaws of a hungry +beast, he continued unconcernedly throwing him bit after bit. He probably +recalled other nights spent in the motley company, and it struck him that the +person of the veiled lady would be an addition which might enhance his credit. +Monsieur Jausion found, however, that an important figure was lacking, and he +asked in a stern tone whether Bousquier had not forgotten somebody. Bousquier +was startled and pondered. "Try your best to remember," urged the magistrate; +"what you conceal may turn into a rope for your neck. Speak out, then: was there +not a tall, robust man present also?" Bousquier realized that this new person +must be included. One shadowy shape after another, wild, fantastic, started up +in his distracted brain, and he had to let the puppets play, to satisfy his +tormentor. To the question of how the tall, powerful man looked and how he was +dressed, he answered: "Like a gentleman."</p> + +<p class="normal">And now it was his turn to describe, to vivify the scene of +action. On the large table in Bancal's room there lay, not the bundle of tobacco +for which he had been called, but a corpse. He tried to flee, but the tall, +robust man followed him and threatened him with a pistol.</p> + +<p class="normal">The magistrate shook his head reproachfully. "With a pistol?" +he said. "Think well, Bousquier, was it not a gun, perhaps? was it not a +double-barreled gun?" "All right," reflected Bousquier, infuriated; "if they are +bent upon a gun, it may just as well have been a gun." He nodded as if ashamed, +and went on to say that, his life being thus threatened, he was obliged to +remain in Bancal's chamber and aid and abet him. The dead man was wrapped in a +linen cloth, bound with ropes, and placed upon the stretcher. The stretcher was +constructed, in Bousquier's imagination, aided by the turnkey, with the utmost +perfection. When he was about to describe the funeral train, however, the +tortured man lost consciousness, and when, late in the evening, he was again +conducted to the hearing—rarely did the night and the candle-light in the dreary +room fail of their spectral effects—he unexpectedly denied everything, cried, +screamed, and acted as if completely bereft of his senses. In order to encourage +and calm him. Monsieur Jausion resorted to a measure as bold as it was simple; +he said that Bach and Colard had likewise made a confession, and it was +gratifying that their declarations coincided with those of Bousquier; if he +comported himself sensibly now, he would soon be allowed to leave the prison.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bousquier was startled. The longer he reflected, the more +profoundly was he impressed by what he had heard. His face blanched and he grew +cold all over. It was as if a disordered dream were suddenly turned into a +waking reality, or as if a person in a state of semi-intoxication, recounting +the fictitious story of some misfortune and becoming more and more enmeshed in a +web of falsehoods with every new detail, suddenly learned that everything had +actually taken place as he had related. A peculiar depression took possession of +him, he had a horror of the solitude of his cell, a dread of sleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">All Rodez had listened to Bousquier's statements with feverish +avidity. Finally the form of the stranger with the double-barreled gun obtained +distinctness and tangibility. That he had the air of a gentleman spurred the +rage of the people, and the Legitimist party, which was composed in great part +of the rich and the aristocracy, began to tremble. It was probably among them +that a person was first mentioned whose name ran, first cautiously, then boldly, +then accusingly, from mouth to mouth, and over whose head a thunder-cloud, born +of a wreath of mist, hung arrested, quivering with lightning. It was well known +that Bastide Grammont, the tenant of La Morne, in spite of his relationship to +the lawyer Fualdes, lived in a state of animosity, or at least of the oppressive +dependence of a debtor, with the old man. Every one knew, or thought he knew, +that stormy scenes had often taken place between uncle and nephew. Was not that +enough? Moreover, Bastide's domineering temperament and harsh nature, the sudden +sale of La Morne, and a well connected chain of little suspicious signs—who +still dared to doubt?</p> + +<p class="normal">The unwearied architect who was at work somewhere there, in +the earth below or the air above, took care that the circle of ruin should be +complete, and enlisted associates with malicious pleasure in every street, among +high and low. In the forenoon of the nineteenth of March, Fualdes and Grammont +were walking up and down the promenade of Rodez. A woman who dealt in +second-hand things had heard the young fellow say to the old man: "This evening, +then, at eight o'clock." A mason who was shoveling sand for a new building had +heard Monsieur Fualdes exclaim: "You will keep your word, then?" Whereupon +Grammont replied: "Set your mind at rest, this evening I shall settle my account +with you." The music-teacher Lacombe remembered distinctly how Bastide, with a +wrathful countenance, had called to the old man: "You drive me to extremity." +The idle talk of a chatterbox gained, in the buzz of hearsay, the same +importance as well established observations, and what had been said before and +after was blended and combined with audacious arbitrariness. Thus, Professor +Vignet, one of the heads of the Royalists, alleged that he had gone into a fruit +store about seven in the evening, shortly before the murder, and met one of his +colleagues there. He related that he had seen Bastide Grammont, who was walking +rather rapidly on passing him. He declared that he exclaimed: "Don't you find +that Grammont has an uncanny face?" To which the other answered affirmatively +and said that one must be on one's guard against him. Witnesses came forward who +confirmed this conversation. Witnesses came forward who claimed to have seen +Bastide in front of the Bancal house; he had emitted a shrill whistle a number +of times and then dodged into the shadow.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide Grammont had lived at La Morne for five years. He was +perhaps the only man in the entire district who never concerned himself about +politics, and kept aloof from all party activity, and this proud independence +exposed him to the ill will, nay, the hatred, of his fellow-citizens. When upon +one occasion a demonstration in favor of the Bourbons was to take place in +Rodez, and the streets were filled with an excited crowd, he rode with grave +coolness on his dapple-gray horse through the inflamed throng and returned the +wild, angry glances directed at him with a supercilious smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was related of him that he had wasted his youth and a +considerable fortune in Paris, and had returned home from there sick and tired +of mankind. His mode of life pointed to a love of the singular. In former years +a learned father from the neighboring Benedictine abbey had often been his +guest; it seemed as if the quiet student of human nature took a secret pleasure +in the unbridled spirit and the pagan fervor of Nature-worship of the hermit, +Bastide; but when he forcibly abducted a seamstress, pretty Charlotte Arlabosse, +from Alby, and lived with her in unlawful union, the Benedictine, in obedience +to the command of his superiors, was obliged to break off the intercourse. +Thenceforth, Bastide renounced all intimate human contact. He had no friend; he +wished for none. He secluded himself with disdainful pride; the sight of a new +face turned his distant and cold; people in society he treated with insulting +indifference. Perhaps it was only from a fear of disappointment that he harshly +withstood even the most friendly advances, for there lay at times a vague +yearning for love in the depths of his eyes. To grow hard because unfulfilled +claims afflict and darken the soul, to retire into solitude because overweening +pride shuns to lay bare the glowing heart, to be unjust from a feeling of shame +and misunderstood defiance—that was perhaps his lot, and certainly his +shortcoming.</p> + +<p class="normal">For days at a time he would roam about with his dogs in the +valleys of the Cévennes. He gathered stones, mushrooms, flowers, caught birds +and snakes, hunted, sang, and fished. If something went wrong and his blood was +up, he mounted the fieriest horse in his stable and rode over the most dangerous +paths across the rocks, to Rieux. In winter, in the early cold hours, he was +seen bathing in the river; in sultry summer nights he lay naked and feverish +under the open sky. He declared then that he saw the stars dance and the earth +tremble. At vintage time he was, without ever drinking, as if intoxicated; he +organized festivals with music and torch-light processions, and was the patron +of all the love-affairs among the workers in the vineyards. In case of +long-continued bad weather he grew pale, languid, and supersensitive, lost sleep +and appetite, and was subject to sudden fits of rage which were the dread of his +servants; on one such occasion he cut down half a dozen of the grandest trees in +the garden, which, as everybody knew, he loved as passionately as if they were +his brothers.</p> + +<p class="normal">That with such an irregular management the income of the +estate diminished year by year, astonished no one but himself. He fell into +debt, but to speak or think about it caused him the greatest annoyance, and his +resource against it was a regular participation in various lotteries, to whose +dates of payment he always looked forward with childish impatience.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="space">* * * * *</span></p> + +<p class="normal">When the court, in compliance with the opinion and accusation +of the people, which could not be ignored, ordered Bastide's arrest, he already +knew the forces at work against him. He was sitting under a huge plane-tree, +occupied with some wood-carving, when the constables appeared in the yard. +Charlotte Arlabosse rushed up to him and seized his arm, but he shook her off, +saying: "Let them have their way, the abscess has been ripe a long time." +Stepping forward to meet the gendarmes with satirical pomposity, he cried: "Your +servant, gentlemen."</p> + +<p class="normal">The occupants of La Morne were subjected to a rigorous +examination. According to Bastide's own statement, he had ridden to Rodez on the +afternoon of the nineteenth of March; at seven in the evening he was already +with his sister in the village of Gros; there he remained over night, returned +in the morning to La Morne, then upon the news of his uncle's death, he had +ridden to Rodez once more and spent about half an hour in Fualdes' house. His +sister confirmed his statement that he had passed the night in her house, and +added that he had been particularly cheerful and amiable. The maid, too, who had +waited on him and prepared his bed, declared that he had retired at ten o'clock. +As to the domestics at La Morne, they babbled of one thing and another. In order +to say something and not stand there like simpletons or accomplices, they +involved themselves in speeches of significant obscurity; thus one of the +servants remarked that if the master's gray mare could but speak he could tell +of some hard riding that night. The maids spoke incoherently or shed tears; +Charlotte Arlabosse even fled, but was captured in the vineyards and +incarcerated in the town prison.</p> + +<p class="normal">These occurrences were by no means concealed from Bousquier +and his associates; nay, insignificant details were emphatically dwelt upon, in +order to give them a sense of security and assist their memory. It was the +smuggler Bach, in particular—who, with the Bancal couple, could not at first be +induced to make a statement—that the police magistrate had in view. He had +terrified judges and keepers by his violent paroxysms of rage, and, to punish +and subdue him, had been put in chains. Unconscious of it himself, this man +suffered from a fierce longing for freedom, for he was the model of a roving +vagabond and tramp. One night when he had attempted to strangle himself. +Monsieur Jausion acquainted him with the confession of his comrade, Bousquier, +and admonished him too to abandon his fruitless stubbornness. Thereupon the +demeanor of the man changed at once; he became cheerful and communicative, and, +grinning maliciously, said: "All right, if Bousquier knows much, I know still +more." And in fact, he did know more. He was a stammerer and took advantage of +this defect to gain time for reflection when his imagination halted, and every +time he strayed into the regions of the fabulous the keen-witted Monsieur +Jausion led him gently back to the path of reality.</p> + +<p class="normal">This was his story: When he entered the room with Bousquier, +lawyer Fualdes was seated at the table, and was made to sign papers. The tall, +powerful man, Bastide Grammont, of course—no doubt it was Grammont; Bach in this +relied upon the information of the magistrate and upon glib Rumor—stuck the +signed papers in his pocket-book. In the meanwhile Madame Bancal cooked a +supper, chicken with vegetables, and veal with rice; an important detail, +indicating the cold-bloodedness of the murderers. Shortly before eight o'clock +two drummers came in, but the face of the host or of the strange gentleman +displeased them; they thought they were in the way and left, whereupon the gate +was locked. But there was a knocking several times after that; the preconcerted +signal was three rapid knocks with the fist, and one after the other there +entered the soldier Colard with his sweetheart, the humpbacked Missonier, an +aristocratic looking veiled lady with green feathers in her hat, and a +tobacco-dealer in a blue coat. The hat with the green feathers was a special +proof of Bach's powers of invention, and stood out with picturesque +verisimilitude against the blue-coated tobacconist.</p> + +<p class="normal">At half past eight Madame Bancal went up to the attic to put +her daughter Madeleine to bed, and now Bastide Grammont explained to the old man +that he must die. The imploring supplications of the victim resulted only in the +powerful Bastide seizing him, and, in spite of his violent resistance, laying +him on the table, from which Bancal hastily removed two loaves of bread which +some one had brought along. Fualdes begged pitifully that he might be given time +to reconcile himself with God, but Bastide Grammont replied gruffly: "Reconcile +yourself with the devil."</p> + +<p class="normal">Here M. Jausion interrupted the relation, and inquired whether +a hand-organ had not perchance at that moment commenced to play in front of the +house. Bach eagerly confirmed the supposition, and continued his report, which +now wrought up the narrator himself to a pitch of excitement and horror: Colard +and Bancal held the old man's legs, while the tobacconist and his sweetheart +seized his head and arms. A gentleman with a wooden leg and a three-cornered hat +held a candle high in the air. There was something weird about the emergence of +this new figure; if it stood for nothing more than a finishing touch to the +horror of that night of murder, it fulfilled its aim to perfection. The +wooden-legged man uplifting the candle was like an impious spirit from the +nether world, and it was not necessary to dwell upon the narrow chin, the +sneering mouth, the spectral eye.</p> + +<p class="normal">With a broad knife Bastide Grammont gave the old man a stab; +Fualdes, by a superhuman effort, succeeded in breaking loose; he sprang up and +ran, already mortally wounded, through the room; Bastide Grammont, pursuing, +seized hold of him, threw him again on the table, the table rocked, one leg +broke; now the dying man was placed upon two benches rapidly moved close to each +other, and Bastide Grammont thrust the knife into his throat. With the last +groan of the old man, Bancal came and his wife caught up the flowing blood in an +earthen pot; the part that ran on the floor was scrubbed up by the women. In the +pockets of the murdered man a five franc piece and several sous were found. +Bastide Grammont threw the money into the apron of the Bancal woman, saying: +"Take it! We are not killing him for his money." A key, too, was found; that +Bastide kept. Madame Bancal had a hankering for the fine shirt of the dead man, +and remarked covetously that it looked like a chorister's shirt; she was +diverted from her desire, however, on being presented with an amethyst ring on +Fualdes' finger. This ring was taken away the following day by a stranger for a +consideration of ten francs.</p> + +<p class="normal">When Bach's recital with all its circumstantiality and its +simulated completeness of strange and illuminating details became known, there +lacked but little to hailing the imaginative scamp as a deliverer. Indignation +fed belief, and criticism seemed treason. The public, the witnesses, the judges, +the authorities, all believed in the deed and all began to join in invention. +Bach and Bousquier, who were confronted with each other, quarreled and called +each other liars; one claimed that lie had gone into the Bancal house before, +the other after, the murder; one declared that he had assisted in the deed, the +other that he had only lifted the body, which was wrapped in a sheet and bound +with ropes. The half-witted Missonnier designated still another batch of persons +whom he had seen in the Bancal house, two notaries from Alby and a cook. In Rose +Feral's tavern, where all sorts of shady characters congregated, and old warlike +exploits and thieveries were the subjects of discussion, on the night of the +murder the talk fell upon the pillaging of a house, the property of a Liberal. +This report was designed to heighten the apprehension of the quiet citizens, and +that afterward all the conspirators, even well-to-do people, met in Bancal's +house gave no cause for astonishment. Everything harmonized in the intricate, +devilish plot; in the clothes of the dead Fualdes no money, on his fingers no +ring, had been found; Grammont had the bailiff in his house as late as the +seventeenth of March, and this circumstance, singled out at an opportune moment +from the quagmire of lies, inspired security. Bastide was hopelessly entangled. +The prisoners were thrown into a panic by the palpable agitation of the people; +each one appeared guilty in the other's eyes, each one was ready to admit +anything that was desired concerning the other, in order to exonerate himself; +they were ignorant of their fate, they lost all sense of the meaning of words, +they were no longer conscious of themselves, their bodies, their souls; they +felt themselves encompassed by invisible clasps, and each sought to free himself +on his own account, without knowing what he had actually done or failed to do. +Every day new arrests were made, no traveler passing through was sure of his +freedom, and after a few weeks half of France was seized with the intoxication +of rage, a craving for revenge, and fear. Of the figures of the +ludicrously-gruesome murder imbroglio, now this, now that one emerged with +greater distinctness and reality, and the one that stood out finally as the most +important, because her name was constantly brought forward, was the veiled lady +with the green feather in her hat; nay, she gradually became the centre and +impelling power of the bloody deed, perhaps only because her origin and +existence remained a mystery. Many raised their voices in suspicion against +Charlotte Arlabosse, but she was able to establish her innocence by well-nigh +unassailable testimony; besides, she appeared too harmless and too much like a +victim of Bastide's tyrannical cruelty, to answer to the demoniacal picture of +the mysterious unknown.</p> + +<p class="normal">While Bach and Bousquier, in a rivalry which hastened their +own ruin, tempted the authorities to clemency by ever new inventions, and, +encouraged by the gossip which filtered through to them by subterranean +channels, disturbed further the already troubled waters; while the soldier +Colard and the Bancal couple, owing to the rigorous confinement, the harsh +treatment of the keepers, and the excruciating hearings, were thrown into +paroxysms of insanity, so that they reported things which even Jausion, used as +he was to extravagance, had to characterize as the mere phantoms of a dream; +while the other prisoners, steering unsteadily between their actual experiences +and morbid visions, constantly suspected each other, and retracted today what +they had sworn to yesterday, now whined for mercy, now maintained a defiant +silence; while the inhabitants of the city, the villages, the whole province, +demanded the termination of the long-winded procedure and the punishment of the +evil-doers, with a fanaticism whose fire was tended and fed by mysterious +agents; while, finally, the court, in the uncontrollably increasing flood of +accusations and calumnies, lost its sense of direction, and was gradually +becoming a tool in the hands of the populace;—in the meanwhile the boundless +forces at work succeeded in poisoning the mind of a child, who appeared as a +witness against father and mother, and led the deluded people to believe that +God himself had by a miracle loosened the tongue of an infant.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_20" href="#pixRef_20"><img src="images/wassermann.png" alt="Jakob_Wassermann"></a></p> +<p class="center">JAKOB WASSERMANN</p> + +<p class="normal">At the outset the eleven-year-old Madeleine Bancal had been +questioned by the police magistrate; she knew nothing. Subsequently the child +came to the tavern, and at once people came forward who had heard from others, +who again had heard from third or fourth parties, that the girl had seen the old +man laid upon the table and her mother receiving money. Of course it was +ascertained by Counselor Pinaud, the only man who retained clarity and judgment +in the wild confusion, that Madeleine had taken presents from the managers of +the tavern, as well as from other people; but it was too late by that time to +discover and extirpate the root of the lie. She was persuaded ever more firmly +into a belief of her first statement, and the recital kept expanding the greater +the attention paid her, the more her vanity was flattered, until she believed +she had really witnessed all that she related, and she experienced a feeling of +satisfaction in the sympathy and pity of the grown people. Her mother had taken +her to the attic, so she reported, but fearing the cold, she had stealthily +crept downstairs and hidden herself in the bed in the alcove. Through a hole in +the curtain she could see and hear everything. When the old man was about to be +stabbed, the lady with the green feather ran terrified into the room and +attempted to escape through the window. Bastide Grammont dragged her forth and +wanted to kill her. Bancal and Colard begged him to spare her, and she had to +swear an awful oath which pledged her to silence. A little later, Grammont, +whose suspicions were not silenced, examined the bed also. Madeleine pretended +to be asleep. He felt her twice, and then said to the mother that she must +attend to getting rid of the child, which Madame Bancal promised to do for a sum +of four hundred francs. The next morning the mother sent the child to the field, +where the father had just dug a deep hole. She thought her father meant to throw +her in, but he embraced her, weeping, and admonished her to be good.</p> + +<p class="normal">Even if people had been ready to doubt every other testimony, +the report of the child passed as irrefutable, and no one concerned himself as +to how it had been concocted, how the ignorant young thing had been courted, +bribed, how she had been intoxicated by fondling, applause, or, it may be, even +by fear. She was dragged from her sleep at night, in order to take advantage of +her bewilderment; every new fancy was welcomed, the girl thought she was doing +something remarkable, and played her part with increasing readiness. In such +wise she molded out of nothing things which were calculated to throw a +singularly realistic light upon the fevered image of the fateful night; for +instance, how the mother had cut bread with the same knife with which the old +gentleman had been stabbed, and how Madeleine had refused the bread, because it +made her shudder; or how the blood, caught up in the pan, had been given to one +of the pigs to drink, and how the animal had become wild in consequence, and had +rushed, screaming madly, through the yard.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide Grammont bore hearing after hearing with a cold +placidity. His frigidly haughty dignity, his mocking smile, the mute shrug of +his shoulders, caused Monsieur Jausion frequent annoyance. But there were times +when, carried away by impatience, he interrupted the judge outright, and +attacked, boldly and eloquently, the frail yet indestructible structure of the +evidence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"If it was my intention and interest to do away with my uncle, +did it require a conspiracy of so many people?" he asked, his face blazing with +scorn. "Am I supposed to have such a combination of craft and stupidity as to +ally myself with brothel-keepers, harlots, smugglers, old women, and convicted +criminals, people who would, as long as I live, remain my masters and +blackmailers, even supposing silence to be among their virtues? Can anything +more senseless be imagined than to seize a man on an open road and drag him into +a house known to be suspicious? Why all this elaborate plot? Did no better +occasion offer itself to me? Could I not have enticed the old man to the estate, +shot him and buried him in the woods? It is claimed that I forced him to sign +bills,—where are they, these bills? They would be bound to turn up and expose +me. You say yourself that the Bancal house is dilapidated, that one can look +into Bancal's room from the Spaniards' dwelling through the rotten boards; why, +then, did Monsieur Saavedra hear nothing! Aha, he slept! A sound sleep, that. Or +is he likewise, in the conspiracy, like my mother, my sister, my sweetheart, my +faithful servants? And admitting all, were not the Bancal couple sufficient to +help kill a feeble old man and dispose of his body; did I have to fetch half a +dozen suspicious fellows, besides, from the taverns? Why did not my uncle cry +out? He was gagged; well and good; but the gag was found in the yard. Then he +did scream, after all, when the gag was removed, and I had the organ-grinders +play. But such organs are noisy and draw people to the windows and into the +street. And why butcher the victim, since so many strong men could easily have +strangled him? Show me the medical report. Monsieur, does it not speak of a gash +rather than a stab? And what twaddle, that about the funeral train, what +betraying arrangements in a country where every sign-post has eyes! I am accused +of having rushed into my uncle's house the following day and stolen some papers. +Where are those papers? My uncle died almost poor. His claim against me was +transferred to President Seguret. Why, then, the deed? What do they want with +me? Who that has eyes sees my hands stained?"</p> + +<p class="normal">This language was defiant. It aroused the displeasure of the +court and increased the hatred of the multitude, whom it reached in garbled +shape. Through fear of the people, no lawyer dared undertake Bastide Grammont's +defense. Monsieur Pinaud, who alone had the courage to point out the +improbabilities and the fantastic origin of most of the testimony, came near +paying with his life for his zeal for truth. One night a mob, including some +peasants, marched to his house, smashed his windows, demolished the gate, and +set fire to the steps. The terrified man made his escape with difficulty, and +fled to Toulouse.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide Grammont clearly recognized that, for the present, it +was useless to offer any resistance; he determined, therefore, to transform all +his valor into patience and keep his lips closed as if they were doors through +which his hopes might take flight. He, the freest of men, had to pass the +radiant spring days, the fragrant summer nights, in a damp hole which rendered +one's own breath offensive; he, to whom animals spoke, for whom flowers had +eyes, the earth at times a semblance of the glow of love, who walked, strode, +roamed, rode, as artists produce enchanting creations—he was condemned by the +perverse play of incomprehensible circumstances to a foretaste of the grave and +deprived of what he held dearest and most precious. Frequent grew the nights of +sullenness when his eyes, brimming over with tears, were dulled at the thought +of disgrace; more frequent the days of irrepressible longing, when every grain +of sand that crumbled from the moist walls was a reminder of the wondrous being +and working of the earth, the meadow, the wood. From the events which had +overshadowed his life he turned away his thoughts in disgust, and he scarcely +heard the keeper when he appeared one morning and exultingly informed him that +the mysterious unknown, who was destined to become the chief witness, the lady +with the green feathers, had finally been found; she had come forward of her own +accord, and she was the daughter of President Seguret, Clarissa Mirabel.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide Grammont gazed gloomily before him. But from that hour +that name hovered about his ears like the fluttering of the wings of inevitable +Fate.</p> + +<hr class="W10"> + +<p class="normal">This is what took place: Madame Mirabel confessed that on the +night of the murder she had been in the Bancal house. This confession, however, +was made under a peculiar stress, and in less time than it took swift Rumor to +make it public, she retracted everything. But the word had fallen and bred deed +upon deed.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa Mirabel was the only child of President Seguret. She +was brought up in the country, in the old Château Perrié, which her father had +bought at the outbreak of the Revolution. Owing to the political upheavals, and +the uncertain condition of things, she did not enjoy the benefit of any regular +instruction in her childhood. The profound isolation in which she grew up +favored her inclination to romanticism. She idolized her parents; in the +agitated period of anarchy, the girl, scarcely fourteen years old, exhibited at +her father's side such a spirit of self-sacrifice and such devotion that she +aroused the attention of Colonel Mirabel, who, five years later, came and sued +for her hand. She did not love him,—she had shortly before entered into a +singularly romantic relationship with a shepherd,—yet she married him, because +her father bade her. The union was not happy; after three months she separated +from her husband; the Colonel went with the army to Spain. At the conclusion of +the war he returned, and Clarissa received an intimation of his desire that she +should live with him; she refused, however, and declared her refusal, moreover, +in writing, incensed that he should have sent strangers to negotiate with her. +But she learned that he was wounded, and this caused a revulsion of feeling. In +the night, by secret passages, with ceremonious formalities, the Colonel was +carried into the château, and Clarissa tended him, in a remote chamber, with +faithful care. As long as it remained secret, the new sort of relationship to +the man as a lover fascinated her, but her mother discovered everything and +believed that nothing stood in the way of a complete reconciliation between the +pair. Clarissa succeeded in removing him; in a thicket near the village she had +nightly rendezvous with him. Colonel Mirabel, however, grew weary of these +singular doings; he obtained a position in Lyons, but died soon after from the +consequences of his excesses.</p> + +<p class="normal">Years passed; her mother, too, died, and Clarissa's grief was +so overwhelming that she would spend entire days at the grave, and the influence +of her more readily consoled father alone succeeded in inducing her to reconcile +herself to her lonely, empty existence. Left completely to herself, she indulged +in the pleasure of indiscriminate reading, and her wishes turned, with hidden +passion, toward great experiences. Her peculiar tastes and habits made her a +subject of gossip in the little town; she had children and half-grown boys and +girls come to the château, and recited poems to them and trained them for +acting. Her frank nature created enemies; she said what she thought, offended +with no ill intention, caused confusion and gossip in all innocence, exaggerated +petty things and overlooked great ones, took pleasure at times in masking, +appearing in disguise, and impersonating imaginary characters, and captivated +the susceptible by the charm of her speech, the bright versatility of her +spirit, the winning heartiness of her manner.</p> + +<p class="normal">She was now thirty-five years old; but not only because she +was so exceedingly slender, small, and dainty, did she seem like a girl of +eighteen—her nature, too, was permeated by a rare spirit of youth; and when her +eye rested, absorbed and contemplative, upon an object, it had the clearness and +dreamy sweetness of the gaze of a child. She was a product of the border: +southern vivacity and northern gravity had resulted in a restless mixture; she +was fond of musing, and, playful as a young animal, was capable of arousing in +men of all sorts desire mingled with shyness.</p> + +<p class="normal">The flood of reports concerning the death of the lawyer +Fualdes left her, at first, unmoved, although her father, by his purchase of the +domain of La Morne, seemed directly interested in the happenings, and new +accounts were brought to the château daily. The occurrence was too complicated +for her, and everything connected with it smelt too much of the unclean. Only +when the name of Bastide Grammont was first mentioned did she prick up her ears, +follow the affair, and have her father or the servants report to her the +supposed course of events, displaying more interest than astonishment.</p> + +<p class="normal">She knew nothing about Bastide Grammont. Nevertheless, his +name, as soon as she heard it, fell like a weight upon her watchful soul. She +began to make inquiries about him, ventured upon secret rides to La Morne, and +led one or another of his servants to talk about him; nay, once she even +succeeded in speaking with Charlotte Arlabosse, who was free again at that time. +What she learned aroused a strange, pained astonishment; she had a feeling of +having missed an important meeting.</p> + +<p class="normal">In addition, she suddenly remembered having seen him. It must +have been he, if she but half comprehended the confused descriptions of his +person. It was a year ago, one early morning in the first days of spring. Seized +by the general unrest with which the vernal season stirs the blood and rouses +the sleeper sooner than his wont, she had wandered from the château, over the +vine-clad hills, into the woody vale of Rolx. And as she strode through the dewy +underbrush glistening with sunshine, above her the warbling of birds and the +glowing blue of the celestial dome, beneath her the earth breathing like a +sentient being, she caught sight of a man of powerful build who was standing +erect, bareheaded, with nose in the air, and was enjoying with a preternatural +eagerness, with distended gaze, all that lay open for enjoyment—the scents, the +sun, the intoxicating dewiness, the splendor of the heavens. He seemed to scent +it all, sniffing like a dog or a deer, and while his upturned face bore an +expression of unfettered, smiling satisfaction, his arms, hanging by his side, +trembled as in a spasm.</p> + +<p class="normal">She was frightened then; she fled without his perceiving her, +without his hearing the sound of her footsteps. Now the picture assumed a +different significance. Often when she was alone she would abandon herself to a +fancied image of that hour: how she had gone forward to meet the singular being, +and by skilfully planned questions beguiled answer upon answer from his stubborn +lips, and how, unable to disguise his feelings any longer, he had spontaneously +opened his heart to her. And one night he came riding on a wild steed, forced +his way into the castle, took her and rode away with her so swiftly that it +seemed as if the storm was his servant, and lent wings to his steed. When the +talk at table or in company turned upon Bastide Grammont and his murderous +crime, of which no one stood in doubt, Clarissa never occupied herself with the +enormity of the deed, which must forever separate such a man from the fellowship +of the good. Enveloped in a voluptuous mist, she was sensible of the influence +of his compelling force, of the heroic soul that spoke in his gestures, of the +reality of his existence and the possibility of a close approach to the figure +which persisted in haunting her troubled dreams. She was frightened at herself; +she gazed into the dreaded depths of her soul, and she often felt as if she +herself were lying in prison and Bastide were walking back and forth outside, +planning means for forcing the door, while his swift steed was neighing in +triumph.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now she was entangled in all the talk, whisperings, and tales, +and the whole mass of abominations, too, in which design and arbitrariness were +hopelessly mingled, passed, steadily growing, before her. The thing had an +increasingly strange effect upon her, and she felt as if she were breathing +poisoned air; she would walk through one of the streets of Rodez and fancy that +all eyes were fastened upon her in accusation, so that she hastened her steps, +hurried home, pale and confused, and gazed at herself in the mirror with +faltering pulse.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had recently been entertained at the estate of a family on +terms of friendship with her father. One day the master of the house, a scholar, +was thrown into great agitation over the loss of a valuable manuscript. The +servants were ordered to ransack every room, but no one was suspected of theft. +Clarissa fell by and by into a painful state; she imagined that she was +suspected; in every word she felt a sting, in every look a question; she took +part in the search with anxious zeal, fevered visions of prison and disgrace +already floated before her, she longed to hasten to her father, to assert her +innocence—when suddenly the manuscript was found under some old books; Clarissa +breathed again as if saved from peril of death, and never before had she been as +witty, talkative, and captivatingly lovable as in the hours that followed.</p> + +<p class="normal">When in the imagination of the multitude the lady with the +green feathers grew steadily more distinct, along with the other figures +implicated in the brutal slaughter of poor Fualdes, Clarissa was thrown into a +consternation with which she only trifled at first, as if to test herself in a +probability or balance herself upon a possibility, like a lad who with a +pleasing shudder ventures upon the frozen surface of a stream to test its +firmness. She devoured the reports in the newspapers. The timorous dallying grew +into a haunting idea, chiefly owing to the fact that she really was the +possessor of a hat with green feathers. That circumstance could not be regarded +as remarkable. Fashion permitted the use of green, yellow, or red feathers; +nevertheless, the possession of the hat became a torment to Clarissa. She dared +no longer touch it; it seemed to her as if the feathers were enveloped in a +bloody lustre, and she finally hid it in a lumber-room under the roof. She +busied herself with plans of travel, and meant to visit Paris; but her +resolution grew more shaky every day. Meanwhile June set in. A traveling +theatrical company gave a number of performances in Rodez, and an officer by the +name of Clemendot, who had long been pursuing Clarissa with declarations of +love, but who had always, on account of his commonplaceness and evident crudity, +been coolly, nay, at times ignominiously repulsed, brought her a ticket and +invited her to accompany him to the theatre. She declined, but at the last +moment she felt a desire to go, and had to suffer Captain Clemendot's taking the +vacant seat to her right, after the rise of the curtain.</p> + +<p class="normal">The troupe presented a melodrama, whose action dragged out at +great length and with great gusto the misfortune and gruesome murder of an +innocent youth. At the close of the last act a woman disguised as a man appeared +upon the scene; she wore a pointed round hat, and a mask covered her face. A +hurried love-scene, carried on in whispers, by the light of the dismal lamp of a +criminal quarter, with the chief of the band of murderers, sealed the fate of +the unhappy victim, who was kneeling in prayer. In the house an eager silence +reigned, all eyes were burning. Clarissa seemed to hear the hundred hearts beat +like so many hammers; she grew hot and cold, every feeling of the real present +vanished, and when, in the ensuing interval. Captain Clemendot in his half +humble, half impudent way became importunate, a shudder ran through her body, +and at the fumes of wine which he exhaled she came near fainting. Suddenly she +threw back her head, fixed her gaze upon his muddled, besotted countenance and +asked in a low, sharp, hurried tone: "What would you say, Captain, if it were +I—I—who was present at the Bancal house?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Captain Clemendot turned pale. His mouth opened slowly, his +cheeks quivered, his eyes glistened with fear, and when Clarissa broke into a +soft, mocking, but not quite natural, laugh, he rose and, with an embarrassed +farewell, left her. He was a simple man, as illiterate as a drummer, and, like +everybody else in Rodez, completely under the sway of the blood-curdling +reports. When the performance was at an end, he approached Clarissa, who, with +an impassive air, was making her way to the exit, and asked whether she had been +trying to jest with him, and she, her lips dry, and something like a prying +hatred in her eyes, answered, laughing again: "No, no, Captain." After that her +face resumed its earnest, almost sad, expression and her head dropped on her +breast.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clemendot went home with a disturbed mind, thoroughly +convinced that he had received an important confession. He felt in duty bound to +speak out, and unbosomed himself next morning to a comrade. The latter drew a +second friend into the secret, they deliberated together, and by noon the +magistrate had been informed. Monsieur Jausion had the Captain and Madame +Mirabel summoned. After long and singular reflection Clarissa declared that the +whole thing was a joke, and the magistrate was obliged to dismiss her for the +present.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not joking, however, that the gentlemen wanted, but +earnest. The Prefect, advised of what had happened, called in the evening on +President Seguret and had a brief interview with the worthy man, who, shaken to +his inmost soul, had to learn what a disgrace, to himself and her, his daughter +had conjured up, menacing thus the peace of his old age. Clarissa was called in; +she stood as if deprived of life before the two aged men, and the grief which +spoke in her father's every motion and feature struck her heart with sorrow. She +pleaded the thoughtlessness of the moment, the mad humor and confusion of her +mind; in vain, the Prefect openly showed his incredulity. Monsieur Seguret, who +in spite of his fondness for a jovial life, was of an exceedingly suspicious +disposition, lacking, too, a firm and clear judgment of men, could not help +regarding the depressed spirits of his daughter as a proof of guilt, and he +explained to her, with cutting severity, that the truth alone would keep him +from thrusting her from his heart. Clarissa ceased speaking; words rushed in +upon her like destroying demons. The President grew sleepless and agitated, and +wandered, distracted, about the castle all night long. His reflections consisted +in fathoming Clarissa's nature on the side of its awful possibilities, and he +very soon saw her impenetrable character covered with the blots and stigmas of +the vice of romanticism. He, too, was completely under the spell of the general +fanatical opinion, his experience could not hold out against the poisoned breath +of calumny; the fear of being connected with the monstrous deed was stronger +than the voice of his heart; suspicion became certainty, denial a lie. When he +reflected upon Clarissa's past, her ungovernable desire to desert the beaten +paths—a quality which appeared to him now as the gate to crime—no assumption was +too daring, and her image interwove itself in the dismal web.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sleep was banished from Clarissa, too. She surprised her +father in the gray morning hours in his disturbed wanderings through the rooms, +and threw herself sobbing at his feet. He made no attempt to console her or +raise her; to her despairing question as to what she could be seeking in the +Bancal house, since as a widow she was perfectly free to come and go as she +pleased and could dispense with secrecy, the President's reply was a significant +shrug; and so firmly was his sinister conjecture imbedded, that upon her +dignified demand for a just consideration, he only flung back the retort: "Tell +the truth."</p> + +<p class="normal">The news was not slow to travel. Relatives and friends of the +President made their appearance: amazed, excited, eager, malicious. To see the +impenetrably peculiar, elusively unapproachable Clarissa cast into the mire was +a sight they were all anxious to enjoy. A few of the older ladies attempted a +hypocritically gentle persuasion, and Clarissa's contemptuous silence and the +pained look of her eyes seemed to imply avowals. The Prefect came once more, +accompanied by two officials. For the Government and the local functionaries +everything was at stake; the cry for revenge of the citizens, anxious for their +safety, the defiance and rancor of the Bonapartists, grew more violent every +day, the papers demanded the conviction of the guilty persons, the rural +population was on the point of a revolt. A witness who had no share in the deed +itself, like Madame Mirabel, could quickly change and terminate everything; +persuasion was brought to bear, she was promised, as far as the oath to which +she subscribed in the Bancal house was concerned, a written dispensation from +Rome, and a Jesuit priest whom the Mayor brought to the château expressly +confirmed this. When everything proved vain and Clarissa began to oppose the +cruel pressure by a stony calm, she was threatened with imprisonment, with +having her disgrace and depravity made public through all France. And at these +words of the Prefect her father fell upon his knees before her, as she had done +that morning before him, and conjured her to speak. This was too much; with a +shriek, she fell fainting to the floor.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa believed she remembered having spent the evening of +the nineteenth of March with the Pal family, in Rodez; she believed she +remembered that Madame Pal herself remarked to her the following day: "We were +so merry yesterday, and perhaps at that very time poor Fualdes was being +murdered." Upon referring to this, the Pals made a positive denial of +everything; they denied that Clarissa had paid them a visit; nay, in their +vague, cowardly fright, they even declared that they had been on bad terms with +Madame Mirabel for years.</p> + +<p class="normal">To human pity spirits blinded by fear and delusion were no +longer accessible. Even had the sound sense of a single individual attempted +resistance, it would have been useless; the giant avalanche could not be stayed. +A diabolical plot was concocted, and it was the Prefect, Count d'Estournel, who +perfected it in such wise that it promised the best success. Toward one o'clock +at night a carriage drove into the castle grounds; Clarissa was compelled to +enter it; the President, the Magistrate, the Prefect, were her companions. The +carriage stopped in front of the Bancal house. Monsieur Seguret led his daughter +into the ground floor room on the left, a cave-like chamber, gloomy as a bad +conscience. On the shelf over the stove there stood a miserable little lamp +whose light fell on two sheriff's officers and a lawyer's clerk, with stern +countenances, leaning against the wall. The windows were hung with rags, the +alcoves were pitchy dark, a mute silence reigned throughout the house.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Do you know this place?" asked the Prefect with solemn +deliberation. All turned their gaze upon Clarissa. In order to soften the +frightful tension of her breast, she listened to the rain, which was beating +against the wall outside; all her senses seemed to have gathered in her ear to +that end. Her body grew limp, her tongue refused to utter more than "no" or +"yes," and since the first promised new torment and agony, but the latter +perchance peace, she breathed a "yes:" a little word, born of fear and +exhaustion, and, scarce alive, winged with a mysterious power. Her mind, +confused and consumed with longing, turned a phantom image, the creation of a +thousand effervescent brains, into an actual experience. The half consciously +heard, half distractedly read, became a burning reality. Her existence seemed +strangely entangled in that of the man of the wood and dale, who had fervently +lifted his head to heaven, and sniffed in the air with the expression of a +thirsting animal. Now she stood upon the bridge which led to his domain; she +beheld herself sitting at his feet, drops of blood from his outstretched hand +fell upon her bowed head. Consternation on the one hand, and the most radiant +hope on the other, seized her heart, while between there flamed like a torch, +there rang out exultant like a battle-cry, the name Bastide Grammont, a +plaything for her dreams.</p> + +<p class="normal">An expression of relief flitted over the faces of the men upon +this first syllable of a significant confession. President Seguret covered his +eyes with his hand. He resolved in his heart to renounce his love for his +misguided child. Clarissa felt it; all the ties which had hitherto bound her +were broken.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had, then, been in the room on the evening of the +nineteenth of March? she was asked. She nodded. How had she come there? +questioned Monsieur Jausion further, and his tone and mien were marked by a +certain cautiousness and nicety, as if he feared to disturb the still timorous +spirits of memory. Clarissa remained silent. Had she come by way of the Rue des +Hebdomadiers? asked the Prefect. Clarissa nodded. "Speak! Speak!" thundered +Monsieur Seguret suddenly, and even the two sheriff's officers were startled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I met several persons," Clarissa whispered in a tone so low +that all involuntarily bent their heads forward. "I was afraid of them, and I +ran, from fear, into the first open house."</p> + +<p class="normal">Monsieur Jausion winked to the clerk. "Into this house, then?" +he asked in a caressing voice, while the clerk seated himself on the bench near +the stove and wrote in a crouching position.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa continued in the same plaintive whisper: "I opened +the door of this room. Somebody seized me by the arm and led me into the alcove. +He enjoined me to be silent. It was Bastide Grammont."</p> + +<p class="normal">At last the name! But how different it was to pronounce it +than merely to think it! Clarissa paused, while she closed her eyes and elapsed +her hands convulsively. "After leaving me alone a while," she resumed as if +speaking in her sleep, "he returned, bade me follow him and led me into the +street. There he stood still and asked whether I knew him. I first said yes, +then no. Thereupon he asked me if I had seen anything, and I said no. 'Go away!' +he ordered, and I went. But I had not reached the centre of the town when he was +again at my side and took my hand in his. 'I am not one of the murderers,' he +protested, 'I met you and my only object was to save you. Swear that you will +remain silent, swear on your father's life.' I swore, whereupon he left me. And +that is all."</p> + +<p class="normal">Monsieur Jausion smiled skeptically. "You claim, Madame, to +have fled in here from the street," he remarked, "but it has been established by +unexceptionable testimony that the gate was locked from eight o'clock on. How do +you explain that?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa remained mute, even her breath seemed to stop. The +Prefect motioned to Monsieur Jausion to desist; for the present enough had been +attained, it was enough that Bastide Grammont had been recognized by Clarissa. +The resolve to force the criminal, who denied all share in the guilt, to a +confession by having him unexpectedly confront the witness, came as a matter of +course.</p> + +<p class="normal">The gentlemen led Clarissa to the carriage, as she was +scarcely able to walk. At home she lapsed into a peculiar state. First she lay +back lethargically in a chair; suddenly she sprang up and cried: "Take away the +murderers!" The door opened and the terrified face of a servant appeared in the +crack. All the domestics stood waiting in the hall, most of them resolved to +leave the President's service. Clarissa saw herself deprived of all the +protection of love, and cast out from the circle where birth is respected and +binding forms are recognized as the least of duties. She was exposed to every +eye, the boldest gaze could pry into her inmost soul, she had become a public +object, nothing about her was any longer her own, she herself could no longer +find herself, find anything in herself upon which she could lean, she was +branded, without and within, food for the general prurience, tossed +defenselessly upon the filthy floods of gossip, the centre of a fearful +occurrence from which she could no more dissever her thoughts. Sadness, grief, +anxiety, scorn, these were no longer feelings for her, her blood coursed too +wildly for that; uncertainty of herself dominated her, doubts as to her +perception, doubts as to visible things in general; and now and then she would +prick her finger with a needle just to feel the pain, which would serve as +evidence of her being awake and might preserve her heart from decay. Added to +this, the torment she suffered from the intrusive: appeals to tell the truth, +the jeers from below, the command from above, the thirst for revenge and the +ineffaceableness of a word once spoken; lastly, she saw the whole world filled +with red tongues, ceaselessly chattering; bloody tongues with snakelike +movements, directed toward her; every object she touched turned into a slippery +tongue. Human countenances grew dim, save one, which, despite guilt and +condemnation, was enthroned, in heroic suffering, high above the others, nay, +appeared preeminent through his guilt as well as his defiance. And the day she +was told that she was to confront Bastide Grammont in order to accuse him, her +pulses beat in joyous measure again for the first time, and she arrayed herself +as if for a festival.</p> + +<p class="normal">The meeting was to take place in the magistrate's office. +Besides Monsieur Jausion and his clerks, Counselor Pinaud, who had returned, was +present. Monsieur Jausion cast a malicious glance at him over his spectacles as +Clarissa Mirabel, decked in lace, rustled in, bowed smiling to the gentlemen, +and then swept her gaze with cheerful calmness over the inhospitable room. From +a frame in the centre of the wall the fat and ill-humored face of the King +looked down upon her, as ill-humored as if each one of his subjects were +especially repugnant to him. She forgot that it was only a picture that hung +before her and looked up with a coquettish pout.</p> + +<p class="normal">The magistrate made a sign, a side-door was thrown open, and +Bastide Grammont, with hands chained together and with an officer of justice on +either side of him, walked in. Clarissa gave a low cry and her face turned +livid.</p> + +<p class="normal">Prison atmosphere enveloped Bastide. The shaggy hair, the +long, neglected beard, the staring, somewhat dazed look, the slight stoop, as of +a carrier of burdens, of the gigantic form, the secretly quivering wrath upon +his newly furrowed brow—all proclaimed their cause and origin. Yes, he seemed to +carry about him the invisible walls which filled him with agony and gloom, and +which, month after month, pictured to him with more and more hopeless brilliance +the images of freedom, until finally they refused to delude him with blooming +tree or flourishing field; then they resembled the desolate gray of an autumn +evening, when the air already smacks of winter, the hearse rattles oftener than +usual past the garden-gate toward the little churchyard, and the rising +half-moon floats in glowing radiance in the misty azure like a bleeding, divided +heart.</p> + +<p class="normal">And yet that haughty eye, in which shone the resolve to be +true to himself? And yet that strangely bitter scorn in his mien which might be +compared to the cautious and at the same time majestic crouching of a tiger cat? +The infinite contempt with which he looked at the hands of the clerks, prepared +to write, his inner freedom and grand detachment in spite of the handcuffs and +the two soldiers?</p> + +<p class="normal">It was this that wrung the cry from Clarissa's lips, and drove +the mad merriment from her face. Not, indeed, because she was forced to behold +the former genius of the woods and wilds bound and shattered, but because she +recognized as in a flash of lightning that that hand could not have wielded a +murderous knife, that such a deed did not touch the circle of his being, even if +he may have been capable of the act, and that all was in vain, an +incomprehensible intoxication and madness, an impenetrable horror, an exhibition +of hypocrisy and disease, A dizziness seized her as if she were falling from a +high tower. She was ashamed of her showy dress, its conspicuous finery, and in +passionate excitement she tore the costly lace from her arms and, with an +expression of the utmost loathing, threw it on the ground.</p> + +<p class="normal">Monsieur Jausion must have interpreted it differently. Again +he smiled at Monsieur Pinaud, but this time in triumph, as if he would say: the +sample tallies. "Do you know this lady, Bastide Grammont?" he asked the +prisoner. Bastide turned his head aside, and his look of careless, bitter +disdain cut Clarissa to the quick. "I don't know her," he replied gloomily, "I +have never seen her."</p> + +<p class="normal">And once more Monsieur Jausion smiled, as if to correct a +parsing error, and murmured: "That is not possible; Madame Mirabel, dressed at +that time as a man, and with a hat with green feathers, was in the Bancal house, +and was led by you yourself to the street, where you received her oath. I beg +you to call it to mind."</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide's face contracted as if at the annoying persistence of +a fly, and he repeated in a loud, energetic tone: "I don't know the lady. I have +never seen her." And his tightly compressed lips betrayed his firm resolve to +remain silent.</p> + +<p class="normal">Monsieur Jausion adjusted his wig and looked troubled. "What +answer have you to that, Madame?" he asked, addressing Clarissa.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He may not know that I saw him," she said in a whisper, but +her voice had the penetrating quality of the chirping of a cricket.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide turned toward her once more, and in the somewhat +oblique glance of his wearily brilliant eyes there was a mixture of curiosity +and scorn, no more, however, than would be bestowed upon a mushroom or a spider. +Inwardly he weighed, as it were, the slender, childlike form, wondered casually +at the agitation of her gestures, her flashing eyes, the helpless twitching of +her lips, wondered at the lace lying on the floor, and thought he was dreaming +when he became aware that an imploring gesture of her hands was meant for him.</p> + +<p class="normal">The magistrate sprang up and, with distorted face, cried: "Do +not jest with us, Madame, it may cost you dear. Speak out, then! A forced oath +is not valid! The peace of your fellow-citizens, the peace of the country is at +stake. Free yourself from the spell of the wretched being! Your infamous smile, +Grammont, will be laid to your account on the day of the sentence."</p> + +<p class="normal">Counselor Pinaud stepped forward and murmured a few words into +the ear of Bastide, who lifted his arms, and with an expression of consuming +rage pressed his clenched, chained hands to his eyes. Clarissa staggered to the +magistrate's table, and while a deadly pallor overspread her cheeks, she +shrieked: "It is all a lie! Lie! Lie!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Monsieur Jausion measured her from head to foot. "Then I place +you in the position of an accused person, Madame, and declare you under arrest."</p> + +<p class="normal">A gleam of mournful satisfaction flitted over Clarissa's +features. Swiftly, with the lightning-like wheeling of a dancer, she turned +toward Bastide Grammont, looked at him as one looks up at a stormy sky after a +sultry day, and with a pained, long-drawn breath, she called his name in a low +voice. He, however, stepped back as if at an impure touch, and never before had +Clarissa encountered such a glance and expression of disdain. Her knees shook, a +feeling of distress overcame her, her eyes filled with tears. It was only when +the door of the prison closed behind her that the helpless sensation of being +flogged left her. Shame and remorse overpowered her; even the mysteriousness of +her position afforded her but slight consolation. Controlled by no law, she +seemed to have been shoved off the track upon which, in the ordinary course of +nature, cause and effect, cumbrously linked together, crawl along in the slow +process of experience.</p> + +<p class="normal">In accordance with her station, she had been assigned the best +room in the prison. The first hours she lay on the straw-bed and writhed in +agony. When the keeper on her urgent request brought a light, as she feared she +would go insane in the darkness, the candle-light fell upon the image of Christ +upon the cross with the crown of thorns, which hung upon the gray-tinted wall. +She gave a shriek, her overstrained senses found in the features of the Saviour +a resemblance to those of Bastide Grammont. His lips had had the same agonized +curve when he pressed his clenched hands to his eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">Once more she rebelled against the boundless injustice. To +live with the world was her real element; her entire nature was attuned to a +kindly understanding with people. She asked for paper and pen, and wrote a +letter to the Prefect.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Justice, Count!" she wrote. "It is still time to prevent the +worst. Remember the difficulty you had in extorting from me what was supposed to +be the truth, remember the threats which made me compliant. I am a victim of +circumstances. Whatever I confessed is false. No man of sense can discover the +stamp of probability in my statements. In a freak of desperation I bore false +witness. Tell my father that his cruelty is more sure to rob him of his daughter +than her seeming transgression. Already I know not what I should believe, the +past escapes my memory, my confidence begins to totter. If it is too much to ask +for justice, then I beg for mercy. My destiny seeks to try me, but my heart is +clear as the day."</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_40" href="#pixRef_40"><img src="images/bathing.png" alt="Bathing_Woman"></a></p> + +<p class="normal">It was in vain. It was too late for words, even if the mouth +of a prophet had proclaimed them in tones of thunder. The next morning many of +the witnesses and prisoners were brought before Clarissa. Thus there were Bach, +the Bancals, the soldier Colard, Rose Feral, Missonier, and little Madeleine +Bancal. Bousquier was ill. The sight of the crushed, slouching, phantom-like +creatures, intimidated by a hundred torments, revengefully ready for any deed, +disturbed her to the core, and gave her at the same time a feeling of indelible +contamination. "Is she the one?" each of the unfortunates was asked—and with +insolent indifference they answered: "It is she." Missonier alone stood there +laughing like an idiot.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa was amazed. She had not expected that the answers +would be characterized by such assurance, such a matter-of-fact air. With inward +sobs she held from her what was undeniable in the present situation, and +shudderingly sought a path in her memory to that past situation on which the +present was founded and which she was asked to verify. Her agitated spirit crept +back to her earlier years, back to her youth, to her childhood, in order to +discover her inimical second-self; that which had seemed weird and strange +gradually became the essence and centre of her being, and the fateful night in +Bancal's house turned, like the rest of the world, into a vision of blood and +wounds.</p> + +<p class="normal">But athwart the gloomy fancies the way led to Bastide +Grammont; a flowery path among burning houses. It seemed fine to her to be +assured of his guilt. Perchance he had pressed his lips to hers before he had +clutched the murderous knife. She coupled her own obscurely felt guilt with his +greater one. That which cut him off from humanity bound him to her. His reasons +for the deed? She did not concern herself about them. No doubt it had struck +root when she had first beheld him, when he had swallowed in a breath all the +wood, all the springtime. No matter whether he dipped his hands in the sunlight +or in blood, both pertained to his image, to her mysterious passion, and Fualdes +was the evil genius and the destructive principle. "Ah," she reflected in her +singular musing, "had I known of it, I should have committed the deed myself and +might have been a heroine like Charlotte Corday!" Why, however, did he deny it, +why was he silent? Why that look of overwhelming contempt, which she could not +forget and which still scorched her skin like a brand of infamy? Was he too +proud to bow to a sentence which put his crime on a level with that of any +highwayman? No doubt he did not recognize his judges. She could, then, draw him +down to herself, make him dependent upon the breath of her lips; and she forgot +the iron alternatives that confront one's destiny here, and let herself go like +a child that knows nothing of death.</p> + +<p class="normal">The trial before the court of assizes was set for the +sixteenth of October. At noon of the tenth, Clarissa requested an interview with +Monsieur Jausion. Conducted before the magistrate, she declared she knew about +the whole matter, and wished to confess everything. In a voice trembling with +excitement. Monsieur Jausion summoned his clerks.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I came into the room and saw the knife glisten," Clarissa +confessed. "I took refuge in the alcove, Bastide Grammont hurried after me, +embraced and kissed me. He confided to me that Fualdes must die, for the old +devil had destroyed his happiness and made life worthless to him. Bastide was +intoxicated, as it were, with enthusiasm, and when I raised objections, he +stopped my mouth with kisses once more, yes, he kissed me so hard that I could +not offer any resistance. Then he had me take an oath, whereupon he left me and +I heard a groaning, I heard a terrible cry; little Madeleine Bancal, who was +lying in bed, raised herself suddenly and wept. Then I lost consciousness, and +when I regained it I found myself in the street."</p> + +<p class="normal">She recounted this story in a mechanically measured tone; her +voice had a metallic ring, her eyes were veiled and half closed, her little +hands hung heavy at her side, and when she ceased she gazed before her with a +pleased smile.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You had consorted with Bastide Grammont before that, then?" +questioned the Magistrate.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, we met in the forest. In the neighborhood of La Morne +there is an old well in the field; there, also, we used to meet frequently; +particularly at night and by moonlight. Once Bastide took me on his horse and we +rode at a furious pace to the gorge at Guignol. I asked, 'What are you fleeing +from, Bastide?' for I was cold with fright; and he whispered: 'From myself and +from the world.' Otherwise, however, he was always gentle. I have never known a +better man."</p> + +<p class="normal">More and more silvery rang her voice, and finally she spoke +like one transported or asleep. Her statement was read aloud to her; she affixed +her signature calmly and without hesitation, whereupon Monsieur Jausion stated +to her that she was free.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the château she was met by a hostile silence. The few +domestics who remained whispered insolently behind her back. Nobody looked to +her comfort, she had to fetch the pitcher of water herself from the kitchen. In +the meantime when President Seguret returned home, he already knew, as did the +whole town, about Clarissa's confession. The circumstance of her amorous +relation to Bastide shed a sudden light upon preceding events and wove a halo +about her former silence. But Monsieur Seguret only hardened his heart all the +more, and when he passed her as she stood on the threshold of her room, he +turned away his head with a gesture of disgust.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the evening the President entertained a number of his +friends. In the course of the meal the door opened and Clarissa made her +appearance. Monsieur Seguret sprang from his chair, rage robbing him of speech. +"Do not dare," he stammered hoarsely, "do not dare!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Regardless of that, Clarissa advanced to the edge of the +table. A radiant, bewitching expression lit up her countenance. She turned her +full gaze upon her father, so that he dropped his glance as if dazzled. "Do not +revile me, father," she said gently in a tone of captivating entreaty.</p> + +<p class="normal">She turned to one of the guests with a commonplace question. +The gentleman addressed hesitated, seemed confounded, astonished, but was unable +to resist. Her features, pallid from the prison atmosphere, had acquired +something dreamily spiritual; the most ordinary word from her lips had a charm +of its own.</p> + +<p class="normal">The conversation became general; the guests conquered, nay, +forgot, their secret amazement. Clarissa's wit and playful humor exercised a +great fascination. Along with them, there was a sensuously pungent air about her +which does not escape men, her gestures had something flattering, her eyes +glowed with a romantic fire. Disturbed, lending but a reluctant ear. Monsieur +Seguret could, nevertheless, not wholly evade the witchery which took his guests +captive. A power stronger than his resolve forced him to leniency; he took a +timid share in the conversation, in spite of the heavy load upon his heart. The +talk turned upon politics, books, art, hunting, the war, nothing and +everything—a sparkling interchange of polished phrases and sparkling +reflections, of smiles and plaudits, jest and earnest. At times it seemed like a +scene in a play enacted with masterly skill, or as if a light intoxication +induced by champagne had exhilarated their spirits; each one was at his best and +strove to outdo himself, and Clarissa held and led them all, like a fairy who +upon a chariot of clouds guides a flock of pigeons.</p> + +<p class="normal">Shortly after midnight she rose, a fleeting, complacent, +capricious smile flashing across her face, and, with a rather affected bow, she +left the room, the men relapsing into a sudden, strange silence. Monsieur +Seguret was agitated when he conducted his guests to the door, and they left the +château as silently as thieves.</p> + +<p class="normal">The President strode up and down the entrance-hall awhile, his +thoughts chasing each other like a fleeing troop of wild animals. As the echo of +his footsteps struck him unpleasantly, he stepped out into the garden, and, +strolling in the winding paths, he inhaled the fresh night air with a feeling of +relief. As lie was leaving the avenue of yews, a streak of light fell across the +path; Monsieur Seguret stepped upon the low wall encircling a small fountain and +could thus look into Clarissa's room, the windows of which stood open. With +difficulty he refrained from crying out in astonishment on beholding Clarissa in +a loose nightdress, dancing with an expression of ecstasy and with passionate +movements. Her eyes were tightly closed, as if they were sealed, her eyebrows +lifted in coquettish anxiety, her shoulders rocked in a stream of inaudible +tones whose tempo seemed now hurried, now excessively slow. Suddenly she seized +something and held it before her,—it was a mirror; glancing into it, she +recoiled with a shudder and let it fall, so that the listener could hear the +clinking of the broken glass; then she went up to the window, tore her dress +from her bosom, laid her hand upon her bare breast and looked straight in the +direction where Monsieur Seguret was standing. He crouched down as if a gun had +been aimed at him; Clarissa, however, did not see him; she fixed her gaze awhile +upon the sweeping clouds and then closed the window. The President remained +standing at his post some time longer and was unable to divert the current of +his thoughts. Whom is she deceiving? he pondered, distressed—herself, or people +in general, or God?</p> + +<p class="normal">For the first time in many days Clarissa enjoyed a peaceful +sleep once more. Yet when she laid herself in her white bed the pillows seemed +to assume a purple hue and she fell into slumber as into an abyss. She dreamed +of landscapes, of weird old houses, and of a sky that looked like clotted blood. +She herself wandered in the silvery light, and without feeling any touch or +seeing any human form, she nevertheless had a sensation of passionate kisses +being pressed upon her lips, and there was a stirring in her body as of life +taking shape.</p> + +<p class="normal">This strange mood and agitation endured for days afterward. A +silvery veil lay between her and the world. For fear of rending it, she spoke in +low tones and walked with measured steps; beyond it, the sun had no more +illuminating power than the moon. When, on the evening before the trial, she was +returning from a stroll in the fields, she saw two women standing in the gateway +of the château. One of them hurried forward to meet her, threw herself on her +knees and seized her hands. It was Charlotte Arlabosse. "What have you done?" +murmured the beautiful girl, panting. "He is innocent, by Christ's Passion, he +is innocent! Have mercy, Madame, even if not upon me, at least upon his old +mother!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The crimson of the setting sun lit up her features, distorted +by grief. Behind Charlotte there stood a lady of portly build, with great warts +on her hands; yet her face was thin, and her countenance as motionless as that +of the dead. She resembled a tree exuberant in strength, whose crown is +blighted.</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa made a deprecatory gesture, yet she retained a +friendly and calm air. A second later, she thought she beheld herself in the +kneeling figure, beheld her double; and a cruel triumph filled her heart. "Have +no care, my child," said she, smiling, in a low voice; "as far as Bastide is +concerned, everything is already settled." Thereupon she opened the gate and +walked into the house. Charlotte arose and gazed motionless through the grating.</p> + +<p class="normal">That night Clarissa retired early, but she awoke at four +o'clock and began dressing. She selected a black velvet dress, and, as her only +ornament, she fastened a diamond star in the edge of it at her bare neck. Her +heart beat faster the nearer the hour approached. At eight o'clock the carriage +drew up; it was a long drive to Alby, where the Court of Assizes sat. Monsieur +Seguret had ridden away early in the morning, nobody knew whither.</p> + +<p class="normal">The walls of the old town had hardly come in sight before such +a mass of people was to be seen on the road that the horses were obliged to +slacken their pace. They surrounded the carriage and gazed with strained +attention into the open windows; women lifted up their children that they, too, +might see the famous Madame Mirabel. She did not seek to escape the general +curiosity; with the happy smile of a bride she sat there, her fine black brows +lifted high on her forehead.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the stroke of ten President Enjalran, who was to preside at +the trial, appeared in the overcrowded hall, and after the reading of the +lengthy indictment Bastide was summoned to the hearing.</p> + +<p class="normal">Firm as if cast in bronze he stood before the judge's table. +His answers were cool, terse, and clear. From beginning to end he now saw +through the senseless fable, woven of stupidity and malice. By a biting sarcasm +he showed his unutterable contempt of all the accusations against him, thus +placing the counsel assigned to him at the last moment, with whom he stubbornly +refused to confer, in no slight embarrassment.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now and then he turned his glance toward the tall, church-like +windows, and when he caught sight of a bird that had alighted on the sill and +dug his yellow bill into the feathers on his breast, he lost his self-command +for a moment and his lips parted in pain.</p> + +<p class="normal">His examination lasted but a short time. It was only a matter +of form, for his fate was sealed. With Bach, Colard, and the other accomplices, +Monsieur d'Enjalran's task was easy; their testimony was petrified, as it were. +Bousquier had died in prison. Of the others, each one sought to grab at a little +remnant of innocence; they produced the impression of men crushed and wholly +bereft of will-power. A sensation was created by old Bancal, who became +hysterical during his examination, and then, protesting his innocence, behaved +like a madman. The humpbacked Missonier grinned when the question of his +presence at the murder was discussed; he had become brutalized by his long +imprisonment and the repeated examinations. Little Madeleine Bancal behaved like +an actress, and greeted her acquaintances and patrons in the audience by +throwing them kisses. Rose Feral turned deadly pale at the sight of the bloody +rags on the Judge's table, and could not utter a word. Madame Bancal remembered +that Monsieur Fualdes was dragged into her house by six men, that he was made to +sign a number of papers, crisscross, as she said. The day following, she had +found one of these bills, made out upon stamped paper, but as it was stained +with blood, had burned it. More than that she positively refused to confess, met +all questions with a stolid silence, and declared finally that whatever else she +knew she would confide to her confessor alone.</p> + +<p class="normal">The witnesses testified placidly the most incredible things. +Their memory was so good that they recollected the hour and minute of the merest +trifles, which are forgotten from one day to the next. In night and fog they had +seen and recognized people, their features, their gestures, the color of their +clothes. They had heard speaking, whispering, sighing, through thick walls. A +beggar by the name of Laville, who used to sleep in Missonier's stable, had +heard not only the organ-grinders but also four men carrying a burden, something +like men dragging a barrel. Bastide Grammont laughed repeatedly at statements +which he declared to be shameless lies. When the Bancal woman began her +testimony he remarked that since it came so late he had expected that the old +woman would be delivered of it with still greater difficulty. To another witness +he represented, in a vibrating voice, how the hand of Heaven rested heavy upon +her, and reminded her of the awful death of her child. He was like a fencer +whose opponent is the mist; nobody, indeed, replied to him, he stood alone, the +contradictions which he believed he had demonstrated remained there, that was +all. At first he was self-confident and maintained his composure, looked firmly +into the witnesses' faces; then he felt as if his sense for the significance of +words were leaving him, not alone for his own but for that of all the words in +existence, or as if the ground were giving way under him and he were falling +irresistibly from space to space into an awful, infinite, boundless void. His +mind refused to work; he asked himself, horrified, whether this was still life, +dared call itself life; Nature's glorious structure seemed to him ravaged like a +wall rent by a storm, the speaking mouth of all these people struck him as +nothing but a chasm convulsively and repellently opening and shutting, darkness +invaded his spirit, he burned with a feeling of shame, he felt ashamed in the +name of the nameless God, ashamed that his body was molded like that of these +creatures around him. He had loved the world, had once loved the people in it; +now he was ashamed of them. It pained him to think that he had ever cherished +hopes, buoyed up his heart with promises, that sunshine and sky had ever been +able to lure from him a joyful glance, sportive words a smile; he wished he had, +like the stone by the wayside, never betrayed what he felt, so that he might not +have been doomed to bear witness before his own branded, scourged, unspeakably +humiliated self. Thought alone seemed offensive enough to him, how much more so +what he could have said; it was nothing, less than a breath. What could he +depend upon? what hope for? They had no faith, not even in his scorn, not even +in his silence. And Bastide locked himself up, and looked into the dawning +countenance of Death.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was already growing dark when the King's evidence, Madame +Mirabel, was finally summoned to the court-room, and the whole tired assemblage +started up convulsively like a single body. She entered, and in spite of the +close air of the room, she seemed to be shivering. She trembled visibly on +taking the oath. Monsieur d'Enjalran urged her to testify in accordance with the +truth. In a strange, uniformly dull tone, yet speaking rather hurriedly, she +repeated the statement that she had made before the examining magistrate. An +oppressive silence pervaded the hall, and her voice, in consequence, grew +steadily lower. She knew now a multitude of details, had seen the long knife +lying on the table, had seen Bancal and Colard bring in a wooden tub, and the +lawyer Fualdes sitting with bowed shoulders near the lamp, writing. She had also +seen the mysterious stranger with the wooden leg, and noticed that Bach and +Bousquier unfolded a large white cloth. To the question why she had appeared in +men's clothes, she gave no reply. And when, with fingers convulsively clasped, +head bowed, her slender body bent slightly forward, writhing almost +imperceptibly, as if in the clutches of an animal, yet with that blissful, sweet +smile which lent her countenance an expression of subdued madness, she related +with bated breath how Bastide had embraced and kissed her in the dark adjoining +room, he sprang up suddenly, wrung his hands in despair and made a few hurried +steps until he stood at Clarissa's side. His heavy breathing was audible to all.</p> + +<p class="normal">The presiding officer rebuked him for his behavior, which he +designated as indelicate, but Bastide cried in a firm, ringing voice: "Before +God, who hears me and will judge me, I declare that it is all an awful lie. I +have never as much as touched that woman or set eyes upon her."</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa turned as white as chalk. It seemed to her as if she +had but just now heard the clinking of the shattered mirror which she had dashed +to the floor after the dance. When the prosecuting attorney asked her to +continue, she remained silent; her eyes rolled and her whole body shook +convulsively.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Speak out!" exclaimed Bastide, addressing her, and +indignation almost choked his voice, "speak! Your silence is even more ruinous +to me than all the lies."</p> + +<p class="normal">Clarissa lifted her eyes to him and asked with curious +emotion: "Do you really not know me, Bastide?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No! no! no!" he burst out, and looking upward he muttered in +distress: "She is demented."</p> + +<p class="normal">Within a second's space Clarissa grew fiery red and again +deathly pale. And turning toward Bastide once more, she exclaimed in a terrible +tone of reproach: "Oh, murderer!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The public applauded. Clarissa reeled, however; an usher of +the court hurried to her side and caught her in his arms, a number of ladies +left their places and busied themselves about her, and half an hour elapsed +before she regained consciousness; but her appearance was as changed as if she +had suddenly aged by twenty years. Monsieur d'Enjalran tried to continue the +examination, but she answered only in incoherent words; she did not know; it was +possible; she did not wish to contradict. Bastide Grammont had resumed his seat +in the prisoner's dock; immeasurable distress and consternation were pictured on +his countenance. His counsel bade Clarissa, since she had spoken, to continue. +"I adjure you, Madame, make yourself clear," he said; "it depends upon you +whether an innocent man shall be saved or shall be sent to the scaffold." +Clarissa remained silent, as if she had not heard; in her breast there surged, +like morning mist over the waters, a consoling and captivating image. Counselor +Pinaud now turned to her with a severe exhortation; she was not to think she +could make her assertions at will and suppress what she wished. The prosecuting +attorney spoke up for her, saying that the cause of her silence was known; she +herself had asserted that she entertained a conviction the grounds of which she +could not state; it should suffice that she had uttered what was of the greatest +importance; nay, he declared, moreover, that any further urging would be +improper. He had not concluded his speech when Clarissa interrupted him; raising +her right arm she said in solemn protest: "I have taken no oath."</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide Grammont looked up. Shaking off his stupor, he raised +himself slowly and began in a voice all the more affecting by its calmness: +"Prison walls do not speak. And yet the time will come when they will find a +voice and will proclaim the secret means which have been employed to force all +these wretches to make lies a shameful bulwark of their lives. Fualdes was not +my enemy, he was only my creditor. If covetousness had misled a man otherwise +decent and moderate, if it had armed his hand, I would never, for all that, have +raised it against a defenseless old man. If you want a sacrifice, take me; I am +ready, but do not mingle my lot with that of this brood. My family, who have +always dwelt in the country, and have followed the customs and simple ways of +rural life, are disgraced. My mother weeps and is crushed. Judge whether I, who +am plunged in this sea of misfortune, can still cherish a love of life. I loved +freedom once, I loved animals, the water, the sky, the air, and the fruits of +the trees; but now I am dishonored, and if there were a future before me it +would be sullied with shame, and the time would have an ill taste. Is it a court +of justice before which I have been summoned? No, it is a hunt, the judge has +become a hunter and prepares the innocent one to be a tidbit for the rabble. I +ask no longer for justice, it is too late to mete out justice to me, too late, +were the crown of France itself to be offered to me. I surrender myself to you +to destroy me, your conscience will be loaded with that burden. One guilty man +makes many, and your children's children will for this flood the living world +with disgrace."</p> + +<p class="normal">A paralyzed silence succeeded these words. But suddenly there +burst forth an indescribable tumult. The public and the jurors arose and +clenched their fists at Bastide Grammont, screamed and howled in wild confusion, +Monsieur d'Enjalran's exhortation dying away unheard. And just as suddenly a +deathly silence ensued. A faint, long-drawn cry which arose in the din, and now +continued its plaintive note, petrified the faces of the listeners. All eyes +tourned toward Clarissa. She felt the glances showering down upon her like the +beams in a falling building.</p> + +<p class="normal">Her heart was aflame with a desire for expiation ...</p> + +<p class="normal">The speech of the public prosecutor gathered together once +more the weapons of hatred which Rumor had forged against its victims; with +cunning skill, he painted the night of the murder in such colors that the horror +of it seemed to live for the first time, Bastide's advocate, on the other hand, +contented himself with high-sounding phrases; he waxed warm, his listeners +remained cold. While he was speaking there was a shoving and pushing in the rear +of the hall; some of the ladies shrieked, a fair-sized dog ran through an +opening in the bar, looked around him with glistening eyes, and, giving a short +bark, crouched at Bastide's feet. Deeply moved, he laid his hand on the animal's +neck, and motioned the usher, who wanted to remove it, back with a commanding +gesture.</p> + +<p class="normal">When the court retired for consultation, no one dared speak +above a whisper. A woman sobbed and she was told to be quiet; it was the Benoit +girl, Colard's sweetheart. She had wound her arms about the poor wretch's +shoulders and her tear-stained face expressed but one desire—to share his fate. +A relative of Bastide approached him in order to speak to him; Bastide shook his +head and did not even look at the man. A sort of drowsiness had settled on his +countenance—at any rate, words no longer carried any weight in his ears. Yet it +happened that he lifted his eyes once more and after coursing through +illimitable space they met those of Clarissa. Now the strange woman did not +strike him as so strange. He heard, again the sound of her voice when she called +him murderer; was it not rather a cry for help than an accusation? and that +beseeching look, as if invisible hands were clutching at her throat? and that +most delicate form so singularly free from indications of her age, quivering +like a young birch in autumn?</p> + +<p class="normal">Two lonely shipwrecked beings are driven by the currents of +the ocean to the same spot, coming from opposite ends of the earth, unable to +abandon the plank upon which their life depends, unable even to grasp each +other's hands simply driven by the gradually dying wind to unknown depths. There +was something weird in their mutual feeling of compassion. Yet Bastide's pained +and gloomy astonishment gave way to the dreamy intoxication of fatigue, and the +watchful eyes of his dog appeared to him like two reddish stars between black +tree-tops. He heard the sentence of death when the court returned; he had risen, +and listened to the words of the presiding judge; it sounded like the splashing +of raindrops on withered leaves. He heard himself say something, but what it was +he hardly knew. He saw many faces turned toward him in the dim light, and they +gave him the impression of worm-eaten and decaying apples.</p> + +<p class="normal">The verdict concerning the other accused persons was not to be +announced until the following day. The crowds in the hall, in the entrances, and +on the street, dispersed slowly. When Clarissa passed through the corridor every +one stepped timidly aside.</p> + +<p class="normal">She had learned that Bastide was not to be taken back to +Rodez, but was to remain in the prison at Alby. She thereupon dismissed the +carriage that was waiting for her, betook herself to an inn near by, where she +asked for a room, and wrote a letter to her father—a few feverishly agitated +sentences: "I know no longer what is truth and what is falsehood; Bastide is +innocent, and I have destroyed him, though my desire was to help him; Yes and No +are in my breast like two extinguished flames; if I were to return whence I came +I should suffer a continual death; for that reason and because people live as +they do, I go where I must." It was already past midnight when she asked to +speak to the host. She requested him to send the letter in the morning to +Château Perrié by a reliable messenger; she then asked the startled man to sell +her a small basket of fresh fruit. The host expressed a polite regret that he +had nothing more in his storeroom. Passionately urgent, she offered him ten, +twentyfold its value and threw a gold piece on the table. "It is for a dying +person," she said, "everything depends upon it." The man gazed anxiously at the +pallid, gleaming countenance of the distinguished looking woman and pondered, +declaring finally that he would rouse his neighbor, and bidding her wait. Left +alone, she knelt down by the bedside, buried her face in the pillows and wept. +After half an hour the host returned, carrying a basket full of pears, grapes, +pomegranates, and peaches. Shaking his head, he followed her with his eyes as +she hastened away, and held the sealed letter, which he was to forward, +inquisitively up to the light.</p> + +<p class="normal">The streets were desolate and bathed in shadowy moonlight. The +windows of the little houses were blinking drowsily; under a gateway stood the +night-watchman with a halberd and mumbled like a drunken man. In front of the +low prison building there was an open space; Clarissa seated herself on a stone +bench, and, as there was a pump near by and she felt thirsty, drank her fill. +The softly swelling outlines of the hills melted almost imperceptibly into the +sky, and behind a depression in the landscape a fire-light was glowing; she +seemed to hear, too, on listening intently, the ringing of bells. The whole +world was not asleep, then, and she could link her anxious heart to human +concerns once more. After a time she rose, stepped over to the building, set the +basket of fruit on the ground, and knocked with the knocker at the gate. It was +a long while before the door-keeper appeared and gruffly demanded what she +wanted. "I must speak to Bastide Grammont," she declared. The man made a face as +if a demented person had waylaid him, growled in a threatening tone and was +about to bang the door in her face. Clarissa clutched his arm with one hand, and +tore the diamond brooch from her breast with the other. "There, there, there!" +she stammered. The old man raised his lantern and examined the sparkling jeweled +ornament on all sides. Clarissa misinterpreted his grinning, anxious joy, +thought he was not satisfied, and gave him her purse into the bargain, "What is +in the basket?" he inquired respectfully but suspiciously. She showed him what +it contained. He contented himself with that, thought she was most likely the +mistress of the condemned man, and, upon locking the door, walked on in front of +her. They descended a few steps, then crossed a narrow passage. "How long do you +wish to stay inside?" asked the keeper, when they had reached an iron door. +Clarissa drew a deep breath and replied in a whisper that she would give three +knocks on the door. The old man nodded, said he would wait at the head of the +stairs, opened the door cautiously, handed the woman his lantern and locked the +door behind her.</p> + +<p class="normal">Inside Clarissa clung to the wall to give her riotous pulses +time to subside. The room seemed moderately large and not altogether +uninhabitable. Bastide lay on a pallet along the opposite wall, asleep and fully +dressed. "What a stillness!" thought Clarissa shuddering, and stole softly to +the bedside of the sleeping man. What quiet in that countenance, too, what a +beautiful slumber, thought she, and her lips parted in mute sorrow. She placed +the lantern on the floor where its light would strike his face, then she knelt +down and listened to his steady breathing. Bastide's mouth was firmly closed, +his eyelids were motionless, a sign of dreamlessness; his long beard encircled +cheeks and chin like brown brushwood, his head was thrown slightly backward, and +his hair shone with a moist gleam. Gradually the peace of his countenance passed +into Clarissa too; all words, all signs which she had brought with her vanished, +she determined to do nothing more than place her gift by his bed and depart. +Accordingly she emptied the basket, and started and paused every time she heard +but a grain of sand crunch under her feet. When she had laid out all the fruit +and passed her hand tenderly over each, she grew more and more peaceful and +calm; she felt herself so strangely bound to death that she dismissed the +thought of leaving this room with a feeling akin to fear, and prepared to do +what possessed her so strongly, with a composed assurance. A desire to kiss him +arose within her, and she actually bent down toward him, but a commanding awe +arrested her, more even than the fear that he might awake. Her body twisted and +turned, she embraced him in spirit and felt as if she were freed from the earth, +like a pearl dropped from a ring. She then rose quietly, walked softly to the +other side of the room, stretched herself on the floor, took a small penknife +and opened the veins in both wrists by deep cuts. Within a quarter of an hour +she sighed twice, and the hand of Death sought in vain to wipe the enraptured +smile from her pallid lips.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bastide still slept on, that abysmal sleep where total +oblivion chains and numbs body and spirit. Then he began to dream. He found +himself in a spacious, secluded chamber, the centre of which was occupied by a +richly decked table. Many people were seated around it; they were carousing and +having a merry time. Suddenly all eyes were turned to the middle of the table, +where a vessel of opaque blue glass, which had not been there before, now stood. +What was in the glass receptacle? what could it signify? who brought it? was +asked in muffled tones. Thereupon an uncanny silence ensued; all gazed now at +the blue vessel, now, with sullen suspicion, at each other. All at once, the +jovial revelers of a few moments ago arose and one accused the other of having +placed the covered dish on the table. A violent clamor now arose, some drew +their poniards, others swung chairs about, and meanwhile a slim, nude girl's +figure was seen to emerge, like white smoke, from the vessel on the table. +Bastide knew the face, it was that of the false witness Clarissa; with +snake-like glistening eyes she gazed at him, always only at him. All the men +followed her glance and they hurled themselves upon him. "You must die! You must +die!" resounded from hoarse throats, but while they were still shouting their +voices died away, the shadowy arms of the false witness stretched themselves out +and divided one of the walls, exposing to view a blooming garden, in the centre +of which stood a scaffold hung with branches laden with ripe fruit. Bastide was +a boy once more; slowly he strode out, Clarissa's hands waved above him and +plucked the fruit, and his fear of death was dulled by their intoxicating +perfume, which, like a cloud, filled the entire hall, nay, the entire universe.</p> + +<p class="normal">Here he awoke. His first drowsy glance fell upon the +flickering light of the lantern, the second upon a huge pear, which, yellow as a +rising moon, lay at his bedside. In dazed, joyous astonishment he grasped it, +but on raising it to his lips noticed that it was stained with blood. He was +startled, thought he was still dreaming. Beyond the windows the gray light of +dawn was already spreading. Now he caught sight of the other fruit, gorgeous and +abundant, as if paradise had been pillaged. But all was stained with blood ... A +little rivulet of blood, divided into two streams, trickled over from the corner +of the wall.</p> + +<p class="normal">And Bastide saw ...</p> + +<p class="normal">He tried to rise, but his unfinished sleep still paralyzed his +body.</p> + +<p class="normal">Bitter and wild grief wrung his breast. He longed no more for +the day which awoke so drearily outside; weary of his own heart-beats and +perfectly sure of what had happened and must happen, he yearned for the final +end. He desired no special knowledge of the consummated fate of the being on the +other side of the cell, who, dominated by mysterious spirits, had trust herself +into his path—no knowledge of men and what they built or destroyed. Man was an +abomination to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">And yet when his glance fell upon the splendid fruit once +more, he felt the woe of all creation; he wished at least to close the eyes of +the giver. But just then the keeper, grown suspicious, turned the key in the +lock.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_kellermann" href="#div1Ref_kellermann">BERNHARD KELLERMANN</a></h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div2_beloved" href="#div2Ref_beloved">GOD'S BELOVED (1911)</a></h2> +<h3>TRANSLATED BY KATHARINE ROYCE</h3> + + +<p class="normal">Before dawn the lawyer rose from his bed, and at that very +moment a thousand little birds, who lived in his room, began to twitter and +trill. "Awake so early, little ones!" whispered the lawyer. He never spoke +aloud.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, good morning! Hush! Hush!"</p> + +<p class="normal">And the thousand little birds chirped in answer and then +obediently stopped singing.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer wrapped a thick woolen shawl around his shoulders, +for he was always very cold, slipped his feet into his wadded boots, drew on his +gloves, put his fur cap on his bald head and went out of the house.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was still night and everything looked unreal and magical. +Now and then the grass would bow down with a sudden jerk, as people do in their +sleep, if they dream that they are falling, and then for a moment the lawyer +would feel a warm breath, which vanished as suddenly as it came. A confused mass +of gray and black clouds swept rapidly across the sky and at the zenith three +golden stars were visible in a line, so that they looked like a flying spear +darting through the clouds. The lawyer gazed thoughtfully for some moments at +the flying spear while his mind struggled with some dim idea. Then he hurried +with short shuffling steps as quietly as possible along the sandy paths of the +asylum gardens.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush, keep still!" he whispered, as he passed some bushes in +which something was stirring.</p> + +<p class="normal">At the edge of the kitchen-garden there was an old well with a +pump which was no longer used, and here the lawyer began his task. He put the +watering-pot under the spout and began to pump, trying to make no noise. As +there was but little water in the well and the lawyer pumped slowly and +cautiously, it took him half an hour to fill the pot. Then, panting and +coughing, the little man carried it to the garden beds, and began to water the +flowers, smiling happily and speaking lovingly to them meanwhile. "Don't be in +such a hurry, little ones," he whispered, "my dear children, how you drink! Good +morning!"</p> + +<p class="normal">But just then began a great fluttering and stirring in an +elder bush. Hundreds of little birds suddenly thrust their heads out between the +leaves and chirped to the lawyer.</p> + +<p class="normal">He made a startled gesture. "For heaven's sake, be quiet!" +said he. "You are always trying to be the first! Every morning. Hush!" And +immediately silence reigned in the elder bush.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer went quietly from bed to bed and watered his +flowers. He stopped frequently to draw a deep breath and gazed up at the sky, +where the motionless golden spear still seemed to be darting through the clouds. +He pondered for some time over that and shook his head. From the "violent ward" +came a longdrawn wailing, which at regular intervals was merged in pitiful +weeping. But the lawyer paid no attention to these sounds. He only heard the +birds fluttering their wings and whetting their beaks in the bushes.</p> + +<p class="normal">A night nurse passed by, shivering.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Already at work, so early?" said she, turning her pale face +toward him.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer put down his watering-pot, bowed and took off his +cap. "One must keep at it," he whispered, "the little ones will not wait."</p> + +<p class="normal">Then he began with the tenderest care to water the beds beside +the principal buildings. He paused by the open windows of the kitchen, which +were very low, and examined the window-sills. He shook his head and seemed much +grieved and disappointed. Yes, they had once more forgotten to put out the bread +crumbs for his birds! How could any one rely upon such maids?</p> + +<p class="normal">He hunted up a couple of little pebbles on the path and threw +them, one at a time, into the dark kitchen, laughing softly to himself. They +really must learn to be more careful. O, he would soon teach them to put the +bread crumbs regularly on the window-sill. There was plenty of gravel on the +path. And what if they had already complained so often!</p> + +<p class="normal">The watering-pot was empty and in the gray light of dawn the +lawyer walked back to the well.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ever since his wife's death the poor man had been a friend of +birds and flowers. When she was dying, she had said, with her last breath, "The +flowers must always be watered and the birds must always be fed." Those had been +her last words and the lawyer heard them ringing in his ears day and night. He +heard them in every breeze, in every conversation, even when all was silent they +were wafted to him. In his wife's room there had stood a dark, heavy clothes +press (which, oddly enough, he could still remember), and this large, dark +object also repeated his wife's last words, although it made no sound whatever. +The lawyer continued to live in seclusion and solitude, and watered the flowers +in the window-boxes and fed and watered the birds in the cages. The flowers +withered and the birds died, one by one. The lawyer took no notice of his loss. +Indeed it seemed to him as if the birds were hopping and twittering gaily in +their cages. They hatched their young and kept on increasing. And the lawyer +took a childlike pleasure in this increase. Finally there were hundreds, +thousands, whose chirping he heard from morning till night. They lived in the +walls, on the ceiling, everywhere. And the good man could not understand why +others neither saw nor heard them.</p> + +<p class="normal">As the sun rose, the lawyer had already finished a good part +of his day's work and turned back to the ward, which looked like a country +cottage standing in a pretty garden.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the doorway, leaning against the doorpost, Michael Petroff, +a former officer in the Russian army, stood smiling, and greeted him with a +bright, cheerful "Good morning, my friend!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer in his woolen shawl, scarf and wadded boots, bowed +and touched his cap.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good morning, Captain!"</p> + +<p class="normal">They bowed several times, for they respected each other +highly, and shook hands only after the completion of this ceremony.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did you sleep well, Herr Advokat?" asked Michael Petroff, +bending forward a little and smiling pleasantly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Did I sleep well? Yes, thank you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I too passed an excellent night," Michael Petroff continued +with a bright happy laugh. "Really excellent. I had a dream—," he added, smiling +and gazing out into the garden with his right eye half closed. "Yes, indeed!—Now +do come into my office, my friend. I have news. After you!" He laid his hand on +the little lawyer's shoulder and with a slight bow allowed him to pass in first.</p> + +<p class="normal">Captain Michael Petroff was a tall slender man with cheerful +steel-blue eyes and a small blond mustache, which like his soft, blond, parted +hair, was beginning to turn white. He was dressed with scrupulous neatness and +was carefully shaved. His chin was round and exquisitely formed, though a trifle +weak, the modeling of his mouth was unusually fine and delicate, like that of a +mere boy.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Please be seated," said Michael Petroff, while with a gesture +he invited the lawyer to sit on the sofa.</p> + +<p class="normal">"But perhaps I am intruding?" whispered the lawyer, and +remained standing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, indeed! How could you—?" And Michael Petroff led the +lawyer over to the sofa. The little man sat down timidly, looking gratefully up +at his host. "You are so very busy—I know—," said he, and nodded at the writing +table, which was heaped with documents, newspapers, and manuscripts.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I have plenty to do," added Michael Petroff, with a curious +smile on his pretty boyish lips. "But one has always time for one's friends. +Here, do listen! I have just outlined a petition to the Hessian government—," +Michael Petroff smiled and balanced a sheet of paper on his hand—"The Hessian +government is to be urgently requested, most—urgently—requested, to reconsider +the verdict in the case of a teacher!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff glanced at his guest while four deep lines +suddenly appeared on his forehead. "This teacher," he went on, "was sentenced to +four years' imprisonment, only think—four years. He had ten mouths to feed and +he embezzled some funds. Voilà tout! What do you think of that! Ha, ha! That is +the way of the world, you see! In my petition I demand not merely that the +sentence should be revoked, but also that officers' salaries should be +increased. I demand it—I, Captain Michael Petroff, and I shall also appear in +the <i>Non-Partisan</i>. You will see, my friend!" Michael Petroff cast a +fearless, triumphant glance at the little baldheaded lawyer, who listened and +nodded, although he did not quite understand what the Captain meant.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You do a great deal of good!" he whispered, nodding, while a +childish smile flitted over his sad, pale little face. And after a moment's +reflection he added, "You are a good man. You surely are!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff shook his head. "I do my duty!" he declared +earnestly. And laying his hand on his heart while his clear steel-blue eyes +flashed, he added: "My sacred duty!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Captain Michael Petroff, former officer in a St. Petersburg +regiment, considered it his life work to plead for justice in this world. He +called himself "The Tribunal of right and justice." He subscribed for two large +daily papers, and searched them every day for cases in which, according to his +judgment, injustice had been done to some one. And every day Michael Petroff +found cases. Cases and nothing but cases. These cases he cut out, arranged them +in chronological order and immediately went to work on them.</p> + +<p class="normal">He often sat up late in his office, as he called his room, or +in his editorial sanctum, as he sometimes designated it in an undertone when +speaking to his confidential friend. There he would sit and write, in a hand as +neat as copperplate, his memorials, protests, petitions, which he delivered +every day at six o'clock to the head physician. Dr. März. who had undertaken to +forward them regularly. Dr. März was glad to receive these manuscripts which he +laid in a separate pigeonhole, in order to use them from time to time as +material for his work on Graphomania.</p> + +<p class="normal">The little time that this activity left him, Michael Petroff +employed in editing his newspaper. And it was because of this paper that he +sometimes secretly referred to his room as "his editorial sanctum." This +newspaper did not appear regularly, but only when it happened to be ready. It +usually appeared once a year, but sometimes twice, if his nervous condition +urged him to greater haste.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff's paper was a fairly accurate representation +of an ordinary daily paper, from the heading, in which the conditions of +subscription were stated, as well as the name of the city in which the paper +appeared—the city was arbitrarily chosen by Michael Petroff—to the fictitious +names of the publisher and editor. Like any other paper, it contained +advertisements, which Michael Petroff simply cut out of other papers, a leading +article, and contributions. The whole editorial part, however, was engaged—with +the exception of a few articles which were slipped in as a disguise—with the +question: Is the confinement of Michael Petroff, Captain in the Russian army, +justified? The titles of the separate articles varied from year to year, +although the ideas expressed in them were similar. The Russian government's +Ultimatum!—A letter from the Czar to the head physician, Dr. März! And every +year the paper appeared under a different name. Michael Petroff called it <i>The +Eye of the World, The Conscience of Europe, The Bayonet.</i></p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff made no secret of his petitions, but he spoke +of his newspaper only to his confidant, the lawyer. And although he was +naturally friendly and very kind-hearted, possibly the reason he was so +extremely fond of the lawyer was that he could talk to him about his paper.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just a moment, my friend," said he. "There is such news! I +want to tell you the very latest. Please stay."</p> + +<p class="normal">He went to the door and cleared his throat and listened. Then +he stepped out into the corridor, coughed, looked up and down and came back +satisfied. He drew out the editorial drawer, the key of which he wore around his +neck, and with a happy laugh began: "The very latest! Listen! This cannot fail +to have its effect. Just hear the headline: Doctor März arrested!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Dr. März arrested?" whispered the lawyer anxiously, looking +up at Petroff in open-mouthed astonishment.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff laughed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Arrested? No, of course not. I go on to explain in the +article that Dr. März is going to be arrested, and that the only way for him to +escape arrest is to give Michael Petroff his discharge immediately."</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer nodded. "I see," said he, smiling because he saw +Petroff looking so cheerful. And yet he was not thinking anything about +Petroff's article, but only that he must give the birds their water. He grew +restless and started to rise.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just a moment, please!" said Michael Petroff eagerly. "Yes, +it is really an excellent idea," he continued rapidly, while his cheeks flushed +with joy. "In my article I emphasize the fact that Dr. März is an honorable man +and a highly prized and respected physician, so that his conduct in this +particular case causes widespread astonishment. I should like to ask you, my +friend, what he will do when he reads this article? Ha, ha, ha! They will find +out something, my dear fellow. I am not going to be unkind to him, not in the +least. Well, in fact, in fact, I shall say, my dear Doctor, ha, ha! But just +look at this too, in the <i>Non-Partisan</i>. Only look at this title, will you +please!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Which one—?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Why, this one!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"An interrogation point?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes! Ha, ha—Simply an interrogation point! And beneath that: +Where is Michael Petroff? An appeal to the public! But look at this, in the +little <i>Feuilleton</i>: Michael Petroff, a Captain in the Russian army, has +just completed his six-volume work on Shooting Stars. All the scientific +journals are praising the clearness and acumen of this epoch-making work. Ha, +ha, ha, didn't I tell you that there was news, my friend?"</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer crouched in the sofa corner and made such an effort +to think, that he held his breath.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I don't understand—?" he whispered and slowly shook his head.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What don't you understand?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"That he should keep you in confinement."</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff glanced at the lawyer in surprise. Then he +leaned forward and whispered: "But I have already told you that my relations pay +him."</p> + +<p class="normal">"They pay him?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, of course!" answered Michael Petroff cheerfully. +"Enormous sums. Millions!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh!" The lawyer began to understand now.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, you see, that is how it is in the world!" said Michael +Petroff, and snapped his fingers.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the lawyer did not wholly comprehend yet.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I do not understand," he began again. "Dr. März is so +kindhearted. I live here, I have my home and my food and I pay nothing. He has +never asked me for any money.—I have no money, you know," he ended anxiously in +a still lower tone.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff laid his hand pompously but protectingly on +his friend's shoulder. "You work in the garden," said he, "you water the +flowers. How could he have the face to expect you to pay money? That is +perfectly simple. But perhaps you too have relations outside who pay for you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Relations?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. Outside—there!" A bitter smile curved Michael Petroff's +beautiful boyish mouth. Should he tell this little old man in the woolen shawl +where he really was? Should he perhaps explain to this little old man with the +grayish wrinkled face, that there was an "outside"—where one could even get into +a railway train or wash one's hands before sitting down to table? Suddenly he +stood up on his tiptoes and instantly lost all conception of his own actual +body; he seemed to himself like a gigantic tower rising up to the clouds, and +looking down on the little baldheaded man, who had only two thin tufts of gray +hair above his ears. He was seized with the desire to make the lawyer cry.</p> + +<p class="normal">But suddenly he bowed slightly to his friend and said: "Please +forgive Michael Petroff!" He walked across the room, then turned to his guest +and said in precisely his usual tone: "Will the fair weather last today?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I think so—I am not sure," answered the lawyer doubtfully.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Well, we will play cricket this afternoon. Are you cold?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," whispered the lawyer and drew his scarf closer.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff gazed at him with his head on one side. "I +cannot understand how you can be cold today." And he laughed gaily. "Come," said +he, "let us—" he paused, for he did not know what he wanted to do—"Let us—Oh +yes, let us go and see Friend Engelhardt. Come!—The Doctor was with him last +night," he ended mysteriously.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The Doctor?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes. Our friend is ill. Hm, hm." Michael Petroff carefully +locked up the manuscript of his newspaper, put on a big gray English traveling +cap, looked in the glass, and they left the room together. Michael Petroff +laughed a soft guttural laugh. At Engelhardt's door they paused to listen, and +then knocked.—</p> + +<p class="normal">There were two great days in the year for Michael Petroff.</p> + +<p class="normal">One was his birthday, the sixteenth of May. Michael Petroff +never forgot it. On May sixteenth he would walk about with an important air, and +looking about him he would say to every one he met: "This is my birthday. I +thank you for your good wishes!" The attendant always came before dinner and +asked him to come to Dr. März's room to receive his congratulations.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then Michael Petroff would go, with quick, light steps to Dr. +März's parlor, shake hands with him and thank him for the wonderful bouquet of +white roses that Dr. März gave him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael never suspected where the bunch of white roses came +from. He did not know that, on his birthday, his wife and daughter stood behind +the portiere of the parlor, nor that they made the long journey every year to +see him. The first few years the Captain's wife had had golden hair, but it had +gradually turned gray, and now it was white, although she was still quite a +young woman. Formerly she used to come alone, but for three years past she had +always been accompanied by a young lady, who wept bitterly when she arrived and +when she went away. This young lady had but one ear and concealed the +disfigurement by the way in which she dressed her hair. Michael Petroff had cut +off her other ear when she was only a child, during the first outbreak of his +malady.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff chatted and laughed pleasantly with the head +physician and carried the roses to his friend, the lawyer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here are some flowers for you. I do not want them!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer's eyes opened wide with delight, and he took the +roses carefully as if they were fragile.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff's second great day was that on which his +newspaper appeared.</p> + +<p class="normal">The paper was always printed in the town. Michael Petroff had +induced the porter of the Sanatorium to undertake take this commission. The +porter delivered the manuscript to the printer and brought back the twenty-five +printed copies to Michael Petroff. And then for a few days he was in a state of +the greatest excitement. He sent the paper to the doctors, especially to Dr. +März, and waited in suspense to see what effect it would have. At such times he +could not work, but wandered about the house and garden all day. If he met a +doctor, he would stop and cast a triumphant glance at him, smiling as if secure +of victory.</p> + +<p class="normal">But a few days later he would question the doctors: "May I ask +whether you have received a newspaper?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"A newspaper?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes! I received it myself. <i>The Bayonet</i>?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh yes, I remember now. I will take a look at it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, please do. There may be some things in it that will +interest you. Ha, ha, ha!" And he laid his hand on the Doctor's shoulder and +gazed meaningly at him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Finally he asked the head physician himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes, yes," answered he, "certainly I read that paper, my dear +Captain. A curious thing. I made inquiries immediately, but the editors were not +to be found, in spite of all my pains. They do not seem to be in existence. Or +else they are gone. I scarcely know what to think of the paper, my dear +Captain."</p> + +<p class="normal">Then for a few days Michael Petroff would wander +disconsolately about, and his depression might even bring on melancholia or +frenzy. But after a few days he would always regain his cheerful spirits. He +would greet his friends, and apologize for his disagreeable behavior. And +immediately he would begin to plan out another newspaper. This time it must +surely be a success. Take care. Dr. März!</p> + +<p class="normal">Such was Michael Petroff, Captain in the Russian army.</p> + +<p class="normal">Friend Engelhardt, whom Michael Petroff and the lawyer were +going to visit, was a gray-haired man about fifty years old, who had been only a +year in Dr. März's sanatorium. He was a shoemaker by trade and had sat all his +life, year in, year out, under his glass globe of water,[A] tapping away on +leather. He was unmarried, lived much alone and since he was industrious and +economical, he had laid up a comfortable little property. And there he sat under +his glass globe and nothing whatever happened. But gradually the globe began to +look more and more strange to him. It flashed upon him and dazzled him, so that +he sometimes felt for a moment a certain unacknowledged fear of it. It seemed to +grow bigger and bigger, until at last the time came when Engelhardt's hair stood +on end with horror—</p> + +<p class="normal"> +[Footnote A: German shoemakers used a glass globe full of water placed in front +of their lamp, to concentrate the light upon their work.]</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_70" href="#pixRef_70"><img src="images/hera.png" alt="Hera"></a></p> +<p class="center">Hera</p> +<p class="normal">And thenceforth he suffered from the strange and terrible +delusion that he was the centre of the universe and that it was his task to keep +the whole world in equilibrium. The myriad forces of all creation were united in +him and he felt with agonizing constancy, how the suns and the planets were +circling about him, and how everything was rushing and whirling through space. +If a chain of skaters revolves around one man who is in the middle, that man +will feel the extraordinary force with which the two rushing wings whirl around +him, and he will be obliged to exert all his strength to maintain his position. +Engelhardt felt precisely so and since his efforts were unremitting, his +delusion exhausted him to such an extent, that in one year he had aged as if in +ten. Even if—so he said—the heavenly bodies had been so marvelously ordained by +the almighty Creator, that through all eternity they revolved in their +foreordained circles and spirals (as he said), yet he suffered beyond endurance +from the slightest disturbance in outer space. During the winter he had been +unable to sleep for two weeks, because a swiftly moving star was pulling at him. +Curiously enough, at this very time a comet appeared which astonished all the +astronomers. Just then Schwindt, an attendant, had died under peculiar +circumstances and Engelhardt—as he himself said—had <i>drunk in</i> his soul, +from which he had gained fresh strength, sufficient to last him throughout the +spring and summer. But now again his task was wearing him out more every day and +his powers were failing rapidly. The shooting stars and the swarms of meteors +dragged at him, until he became dizzy, and especially the moon exerted at this +period a terrible power over him. It sucked in his strength, and Engelhardt +imagined that at any moment the ground might give way beneath him and he might +sink into the depths and the whole universe might collapse above him.</p> + +<p class="normal">When Michael Petroff and the little lawyer entered +Engelhardt's room, after vainly knocking at the door for some time, they found +him in bed, with his thin hairy hands lying helplessly on the coverlet. He was +gazing directly upward, and indeed his eyes were rolled up so far that the +whites showed, and he seemed to be looking fixedly at some special point in the +ceiling. His face was of a somewhat yellowish tone and gave the impression of +being made of porcelain, the skin was so smooth and the bones were so prominent. +His forehead was uncommonly large in proportion to his small face and mouth, +which was drawn together as if ready to whistle and was surrounded by many +little lines centering at the lips. The shoemaker had wasted away so during the +year that the collar of his bright colored shirt stood out a finger's breadth +from his thin neck.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good morning!" said Michael Petroff gently and cheerfully. +"Here are some friends to see you!" The lawyer remained timidly standing in the +doorway.</p> + +<p class="normal">Engelhardt did not answer. A shudder passed over him, and his +thin hairy hands twitched from time to time, as if he were receiving an electric +shock of varying strength.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff smiled and came toward him. "How are you, my +dear friend?" said he softly and sympathetically, bending over Engelhardt. "Did +the Doctor come to see you last night?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Engelhardt rolled his head from side to side on the pillow. He +was exhausted by a sleepless night and by the effects of the hypnotics that the +Doctor had given him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very ill!" answered he in a lifeless tone.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very ill?" Michael Petroff raised his eyebrows anxiously. He +turned to the little lawyer, who still stood at the door. "Our poor friend does +not feel well!" said he.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Are you in pain?" Michael Petroff bent once more over the +sick man and held his ear near Engelhardt's mouth.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," answered the sick man in a dull and lifeless tone, and +murmured something in Petroff's ear. It sounded as if he were praying.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff straightened up again and glanced at the +little lawyer. "He says that he has come to the end of his strength, our poor +friend. He needs a new soul—like that time in the winter, when the attendant +died, don't you remember?" And he shouted into the ear of the sufferer, +unnecessarily loud: "I will speak with the Doctor, Friend Engelhardt. This is +the Doctor's business. In one way or another he will get you a soul!"</p> + +<p class="normal">But the little lawyer suddenly wrapped himself closer in his +shawl. He was as cold as ice. Ordinarily very few impressions remained in his +memory, but he still remembered clearly the death of the attendant Schwindt—and +how Michael Petroff had come to his room and whispered mysteriously in his ear: +"The attendant is dead. Engelhardt has taken his soul, don't you see!" So now he +was horrified at the thought that Engelhardt might perhaps demand <i>his</i> +soul, and there was nothing that he feared more than death.</p> + +<p class="normal">Death dwelt in his confused sick brain as a figure that was +invisible all but the hands. Suddenly, Oh so suddenly, it would stand near him, +close by his side. And a horrible chill would stream forth from the dread form, +and all the flowers, white with frost, would die, and the millions of swift +little birds would fall frozen through the air, and he himself would be changed +into a little heap of snow.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer drew in his head, so that his thin gray beard +pushed out above his scarf, and gazed timidly at Michael Petroff with his little +mouse-like eyes and shivered.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff looked at him in astonishment. "What is the +matter, my dear fellow?" he drawled, smilingly. "Are you afraid! Why should you +be, I wonder? I shall go at once to Dr. März and explain to him what Engelhardt +requires. From what I know of him, he will not delay, and so everything will be +attended to. I would gladly place my own soul at your disposal. Friend +Engelhardt, but I still need it myself—-I have a mission to fulfil, you know—I +am Napoleon, and I fight a battle every day, I am—" But here he paused suddenly +and listened.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The Doctor is coming! Don't you hear him?" he whispered. "He +will be here immediately—"</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. März had come into the ward. He could be heard speaking +with some one in the corridor, and the three men in the shoemaker's room +listened. The Doctor's voice was the only one which had the power to change the +current of their thoughts and to give them hopes, great hopes, indefinite though +they were. It affected them somewhat as a voice affects wanderers, who believe +that they are lost in a solitary wilderness. And yet Dr. März did not talk much, +but he had become a master of the art of listening, and would pay attention for +hours every day to the complaints, the lamentations, and the hundreds of +requests of his patients. But a few words from him had the power to encourage, +to comfort, to cheer and to influence the mood of his patients for the whole +day.</p> + +<p class="normal">Suddenly the lawyer ceased to shiver, Michael Petroff began to +laugh happily, and Engelhardt withdrew his gaze from the point in the ceiling +and looked toward the half open door. He gazed so intently that his small bright +eyes seemed to squint.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Listen! The Rajah is talking with him!" said Michael Petroff, +holding up his finger for silence.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Nobody is watching you, my dear friend," said the Doctor's +quiet voice.</p> + +<p class="normal">And a deep and almost gentler voice replied: "I heard the +watchman walking back and forth before my door all night, Sir. And I also heard +the drum when the watch was relieved."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My friend," answered the Doctor, "You must have been +dreaming."</p> + +<p class="normal">"No," continued the man whom Michael Petroff had called the +"Rajah," "I excuse you, Sir, because I know that you are only doing your duty. +But your tact ought to prevent you from carrying out your precautions in such an +obvious way. I have given you my word of honor not to make any attempt to +escape. I want you to tell that to the English government, by whose authority +you are keeping me here in confinement. Neither have I any weapons concealed in +my room. I want you to search it."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I know that perfectly well, my friend!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"All the same, I want you to search."</p> + +<p class="normal">And the "Rajah" would not be satisfied until the Doctor had +promised that his room should be searched immediately.</p> + +<p class="normal">During this conversation Dr. März had appeared in the doorway, +with the "Rajah" just behind him. Dr. März was a small man, dressed in a +light-gray suit, with a ruddy beardless face and a quick, searching but gentle +eye, while the "Rajah" stood behind him, tall and dark, and almost filling up +the doorway. The "Rajah" had a long black beard and a fearless, dark brown face, +in which the whites of his eyes showed strikingly.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" was simply a teacher, who had taught for a few +years in India in a German school. A protracted fever had caused an incipient +delusion, which, after his return to his native land, took entire possession of +him. He imagined himself to be an Indian prince, who had been exiled by the +English government.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was extremely silent and reserved, and never talked with +the other patients. His bearing expressed an inscrutable calm and an apparently +quite natural pride. For days together he would favor no one with a glance. He +would walk up and down the garden, very slowly, gazing scornfully at the flowers +and trees, and every evening, if the weather permitted, he would sit apart on a +bench and gaze at the sinking sun, turning his dark face toward it until it +disappeared. And as he gazed at the setting sun, an obscure, wistful sorrow +glowed in his dark eyes. For he saw palm trees, that seemed to melt into the +sun, so that only their tops showed, edged with flame, while their trunks were +invisible—and elephants, stepping proudly, with their little brown +<i>mahouts</i> upon their necks—and glittering golden temples, and crowds of +dark, half naked natives, trotting along with branches in their hands, and +uttering shrill cries—and then too, he saw himself, going on board the steamer +that was to carry him into exile, while the dark people threw themselves down on +the quay and wept. The "Rajah's" soul was filled with deep and bitter sorrow, +and he rose and held his broad shoulders more erect, as if he were bearing a +heavy burden. And he bore it! The "Rajah" never complained, never showed +despondency, nor did he ever show any sign of what was taking place within him.</p> + +<p class="normal">Even in his own room he behaved tranquilly. Very rarely was he +heard to speak, and only once in a while—in his sleep—would he utter a +long-drawn singing cry, such as street venders use in the Orient.</p> + +<p class="normal">As Dr. März entered the room, the little baldheaded lawyer +bowed, with his cap in his hand, and stood modestly against the wall. His +gratitude knew no bounds, because the Doctor allowed him to live quietly and +peacefully among his flowers and birds, without ever asking him to pay anything. +So today he did not even venture to ask Dr. März for crumbs for the birds nor to +complain of the negligence of the maids in the kitchen, although he had fully +determined to do so.</p> + +<p class="normal">But the lawyer could not look at the "Rajah" who stood dark +and unapproachable in the passageway, without feeling timid and slightly +anxious. To express his respect, he bowed low to the "Rajah," and since the +latter did not notice him, he bowed once more, moving his lips in a whisper. But +the "Rajah" did not vouchsafe him a glance. For a moment the lawyer thought of +approaching and kissing the "Rajah's" hand. For he recalled a circumstance that +had been sharply impressed upon his memory: One evening he had met the "Rajah" +in the corridor and had bowed to him. They had been quite alone. The "Rajah" had +come toward him and had said in a deep, mysterious voice, "My loyal subject!" +and had given him his hand to kiss. "Wait!" the "Rajah" had continued, "I will +show my favor to you. I have very little of the treasure left, that I brought +with me into exile, but—here, take this." And the "Rajah" had slipped a little +gray stone into his hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff, on the contrary, looked smilingly and +questioningly at Dr. März, while he stood politely back against the door. +Meanwhile he tipped his head somewhat backward and sidewise and looked at the +Doctor, as if he expected some very special news from him and as if he knew +quite well that Dr. März had such news for him today. So confidently did he look +at him, while a smile played about his pretty boyish mouth.</p> + +<p class="normal">But Engelhardt, whose brows were drawn up with pain as if they +were fastened with rivets, had half sat up in bed and was explaining his needs +and his sufferings to the Doctor. He spoke in a guttural tone, rapidly, in a +murmur that was hard to understand, and his voice sounded like the distant +barking of a dog, heard on a still night.</p> + +<p class="normal">He had come to the end of his strength—the moon was drawing at +him!—in the night thousands of people had begged him on their knees not to give +them up to destruction—only a new soul could give him back his strength—he felt +that he was bending over more and more to the left and the whole universe might +collapse at any moment: all this he muttered indistinctly, confusedly, his +distressful eyes fixed pleadingly upon Dr. März.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. März listened gravely, as did also Michael Petroff and +even the "Rajah," who had stepped inside the door. And because they were all +listening so earnestly—especially the "Rajah," whose large brilliant eyes were +fixed upon Engelhardt—the little lawyer was once more seized with fear. He felt +as if his legs were sinking through the floor, as if in a swamp, but just when +this fear was about to overwhelm him like black darkness, a bird lit on the +window-sill and chirped, and the lawyer seemed suddenly transformed.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am coming!" he whispered hurriedly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't go!" said Michael Petroff softly, taking hold of his +arm. "Where are you going?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"He was calling me!" answered the lawyer and slipped quickly +away.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How he is hurrying!" thought Michael Petroff, and heard +himself laughing inwardly. And presently he said to Dr. März, laying his hand +confidentially on his shoulder: "The lawyer is certainly a clever, well educated +man—and yet he thinks that the birds call him! Between you and me, Doctor, +hasn't it ever occurred to you, that he is not quite right—?"</p> + +<p class="normal"> +After luncheon Dr. März's patients went out into the garden as usual. They +trotted along in little groups, one after the other, round and round the biggest +flower bed, at equal distances, silently, lost in thought. Only the "Inventor," +a young man, sometimes paused, rested his hand on his side, put his other hand +to his forehead and gazed steadily at a point on the ground.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer was watering his flowers and listening delightedly +to the thousands and thousands of birds that were hopping in the bushes and +treetops. Michael Petroff was in high good humor. There was news—! Just listen! +Just listen! He was smoking a cigarette that Dr. März had given him, and was +enjoying every whiff of it. He held the cigarette with his fingers coquettishly +crossed, and swung it in sweeping curves, as if he were taking off his hat to +some one, and at every whiff he drew, he stood still and blew the smoke up into +the sunny air and watched the blue cloud drift away. Everything gave him +pleasure. Even walking was a delight to him. His steps were short, his knees +sprung playfully; and he felt with delight how his toes crackled a little and +how the elastic balls of his feet rebounded in his thin soled shoes from the +ground, while his heels touched the path but lightly and his knees swung. When +he stood still, he set the muscles of his thighs, by a certain pressure of the +knees, and then enjoyed the firmness with which he stood there like a statue. He +was convinced that nothing could have knocked him down. He walked along smiling +and glancing cheerfully about him, as if to share his happiness. He greeted +everyone, and whenever he met an acquaintance he would tell him the great event +that had happened today.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Just hear this, my friend!" he called out to the little +lawyer, who was standing on the lawn, stooping over a tulip bed to water the +flowers in the middle of it. "Do come over here! There is such news! Oh, please +do come!"</p> + +<p class="normal">He waited with friendly impatience until the lawyer had +finished and came back to the path, meaning to go back to the well with his +empty green can. "I want to tell you what has happened today," he began hastily, +"His Majesty the king of Saxony has condescended—"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me," the lawyer interrupted him in a whisper and +started to leave him, "I am in a hurry. It is hot and the flowers are drying +up."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will walk to the well with you," continued Michael Petroff +good humoredly, and walked rapidly beside the departing lawyer. "I can tell you +just as well while we are walking. So I said to the Doctor today: 'Now, Doctor, +haven't you anything for me today?' 'No,' said he, 'my dear Captain, nothing at +all, I am sorry to say.' 'Really nothing,' said I, and I took him by the arm. +'Has not there been a single answer for weeks? Really nothing, Doctor?' He +looked at me and thought a while. 'Oh yes,' he said, 'I had almost forgotten. A +document did come for you. It is about that carpenter, you know, Captain.' 'A +carpenter, Doctor? I don't remember'—so I took out my memorandum book, in which +I enter all the documents that I send out: 'Where did the answer come from? From +Saxony? Ah!' said I, 'then it must be about the butcher's apprentice who was +condemned to death.' 'Yes,' said the Doctor, 'that is it. The fellow was a +butcher's apprentice.' And now listen, my friend. Because of my petition, his +Majesty the King of Saxony has condescended to pardon him. I must write a letter +of thanks to His Majesty this very day."</p> + +<p class="normal">"How the sun burns today," the lawyer responded to Michael +Petroff's tale, and began to work the pump handle. "All the flowers look so +wilted."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Ha, ha!" laughed Michael Petroff. "You're not listening at +all, are you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">No, the lawyer was not listening. He was looking into his can +to see if it was full.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff looked at him a while with his head on one +side, then he laughed quietly to himself and walked rapidly away. He glanced +about the garden in search of some one to whom he could tell his cheerful tale.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just then he espied the "Rajah," who was walking up and down +in the vegetable garden between two beds of lettuce. According to his habit, the +"Rajah" was alone, and in a place where no one else would be apt to come.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff rose up on tiptoes and considered whether he +had better, with one jump, spring over the beds, which separated him by about a +hundred paces from the "Rajah." He would only have to soar upward a very little +and he would be there. But he was afraid of being impolite to the "Rajah" or +perhaps of startling him, so he gave up the idea.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" was pacing up and down with his usual pride and +dignity, but today he was restless and troubled. Engelhardt's words about +preserving the equilibrium of the universe had taken possession of his mind. He +had been considering the matter, and after long and inexorable reflection he had +come to the decision that there was only one way—only one—</p> + +<p class="normal">Just then Michael Petroff came up to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you permit me to disturb you?" he asked politely, taking +off his gray English traveling cap. "I am Captain Michael Petroff."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" gazed at him earnestly with his glowing dark eyes.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What do you want," he asked quietly.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff smiled. "I want to tell you a piece of good +news," he began. "This morning I said to the Doctor: 'Now, Doctor, haven't you +anything for me today—?'"—And beaming with joy, he went on to tell the same +story that he had told a dozen times that day.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" listened in silence, looking thoughtfully at +Michael Petroff. Then he said: "I should like to have a word with you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am quite at your service!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah's" eyes wandered over the garden slowly and with +dignity.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Shall we go over to that bench?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"With pleasure."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" sat down, and with a condescending gesture invited +Michael Petroff to be seated also.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I see you writing all the time—" he began,</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff lifted his cap. "Michael Petroff, Captain in +the Russian army," he said politely.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" looked at him and went on, with his usual quiet +pride: "Since you write, you must understand. And you surely must have gained +knowledge of men and things from sacred books, which are closed to the rest of +us, and you must have passed your life in meditation, according to the rules of +your caste. Very well. Then explain to me the words of the Fakir, who, according +to the inscrutable decision of the Gods, is bearing up the universe on his +shoulders. Speak!"</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff smiled, highly flattered, and bowed to the +"Rajah." He did not really understand all that the "Rajah" said, but he +perceived that his words expressed respect and admiration. He felt that it was +in some way his duty to confide to the "Rajah" the secret of his paper, but to +his own surprise he asked: "You mean our friend Engelhardt?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"You heard what he said?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then speak!" It appeared that the "Rajah" had not forgotten a +single word that Engelhardt had said to Dr. März. Michael Petroff, on the +contrary, remembered almost nothing, and so fell into the "Rajah's" disfavor.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Pardon me!" he apologized. "So many things pass through my +head."</p> + +<p class="normal">"But what will happen if he cannot get another soul?" asked +the "Rajah."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, the Doctor will take care of that."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Even Fakirs are only human. What will happen if his strength +gives way? Will the world collapse?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Surely it will collapse!" replied Michael Petroff, laughing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What are you laughing at?" asked the "Rajah" quietly, while +his dark eyes gleamed. "What will you do if it collapses?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I?" Michael Petroff smiled and pointed to the cottage, which +showed dimly through the shrubbery. "If that house tumbles down," he went on, "I +will run away as fast as I can, and go back to my own country. Russia is my +native land. Do you know about Russia? You could hold Germany on the palm of +your hand, but you couldn't carry Russia even on your back. My country is so +big."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" considered this idea long and carefully.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then he said slowly, and as if speaking to himself: "If the +world collapses, will my kingdom be destroyed too? The mountains and the +temples, the forests and the towns, will they all fall in ruins?"</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff nodded, laughing maliciously. "I suppose so!"</p> + +<p class="normal">And now the "Rajah" nodded too. He bowed his head slowly +several times. "All my subjects would be destroyed?" he asked, and nodded. He +rose and shook his head. "No," he said solemnly, gazing at Michael Petroff. +"That must not be! We cannot allow it."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" turned away. Through the sunshine he walked, +slowly and with dignity, back to the ward.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff looked after him. He smiled and shook his +head. "What a curious being he is though!" said he, laughing. And when he heard +his own laughter, he laughed again, loudly and gaily and snapped his fingers. +Ha, ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="normal">But the "Rajah" went to Engelhardt's room and informed him +that he had decided to give up his own soul to him. "If the Gods deign to accept +my sacrifice."</p> + +<p class="normal">Engelhardt, who lay in his bed as if he were already dead, +opened his eyes and looked at the "Rajah."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Will you?" he gasped, while his hands and face twitched +convulsively.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I will try to hold out for three days yet!" gasped +Engelhardt.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" closed the door. He went to his own room and +wrote, in a large rapid hand that wandered in all directions, a short letter to +Dr. März.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Your Excellency," he wrote, "It is the will of Heaven. We +shall see the blue river no more. We shall see no more the flooded rice fields, +nor the white elephants with bands of gold upon their tusks. It is the will of +Heaven and we obey. Say to the English Government that we are too noble for +bitterness or revenge. Say to the English Government that we are pleased to +rescue our subjects and to yield up our soul, if the sacrifice is pleasing to +the Gods."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" rang for the attendant and gave him the letter, +quietly and with great dignity. Then he undressed and went to bed, prepared to +die.</p> + +<p class="normal"> +At nightfall, when it was growing dark, the lawyer, much excited, rushed into +Michael Petroff's room, without knocking, or waiting at the door, as he was in +the habit of doing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Help me. Captain!" he whispered, and threw himself into the +arms of the astonished Michael Petroff. The lawyer was trembling with fright.</p> + +<p class="normal">"What in the world—?" exclaimed Michael Petroff, surprised and +startled.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is standing in the corridor!" whispered the lawyer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Who? What is the matter with you?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Engelhardt! He is standing at the 'Rajah's' door. He is +taking away his soul."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What's that you say?" Michael Petroff laughed softly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I saw him standing there. Don't let him come near me. Oh good +God!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush!" interrupted Michael Petroff. "I will attend to it."</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer clung to his knees. "He will come in here! Oh my +God, my God!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear friend," Michael Petroff reassured him, "control +yourself. He shall not come in here. I promise you. But I must go and see!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The little lawyer cowered on the floor and covered his face +with his hands. But Michael Petroff left the room. After a while he came back, +looking somewhat pale, but laughing to keep his courage up.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes," he said in a low tone, "he is standing at the 'Rajah's' +door listening. What makes you tremble so, my friend?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Don't leave me!" whispered the lawyer, still covering his +face with his hands.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" lay motionless in his bed, gazing far, far away +with his great, brilliant eyes. His swarthy face was transfigured by a solemn +peace and resignation. He declined to get up and refused all nourishment. Dr. +März took his temperature and found it somewhat low, and his pulse rather slow, +but he could not discover any symptoms of bodily disorder or of an approaching +illness. With cheerful earnestness he advised the "Rajah" to get up and to eat, +but as the "Rajah" did not answer, he left him in peace. He was accustomed to +his patients' whims and knew that they went as suddenly as they came.</p> + +<p class="normal">But Engelhardt, on the contrary, caused him great anxiety. In +spite of long continued baths and all sorts of quieting treatments, he had +passed another sleepless and excited night. He now lay in a sort of half sleep, +and shrank and trembled with the effort that his horrible delusion required of +him. He heard voices, the cries of millions of men, who wrung their hands and +begged him not to give them up to destruction, he heard the ringing of bells, +the chanting of processions, the prayers of emperors and kings, bishops and +popes. His skin was dry and parched, his pulse was rapid and unsteady. Dr. März +sat for a long time by his bedside watching him attentively, and sometimes, +closing his eyes for a moment, he would recall with lightning rapidity all his +knowledge and experience of such cases. At last, with a thoughtful and baffled +air, he left Engelhardt.</p> + +<p class="normal">But an hour later he was beside him again.</p> + +<p class="normal">The patients in the ward showed that special form of +nervousness that was always present whenever the frequent visits of the doctor +indicated that some one was very ill. They walked quietly, spoke in undertones, +and many of them refused to leave the room at all. The little lawyer hardly +dared to stir and begged the thousands of birds, that lived in his room, to be +very quiet, when he put their bread and water on the table. Again and again some +unknown power drove him to look through the keyhole. He would stand there a long +time, covering his left eye with his hand as children do and peering with his +right at the white wall of the corridor. But whenever a passer-by darkened his +outlook, he would shrink back startled. If he had to go out to attend to his +flowers, he opened the door slowly and silently and walked backward, fixing his +eyes on Engelhardt's door, until he reached the steps. There he would turn +quickly and hurry away, possessed by the fear that a hand would suddenly seize +him by the coat collar.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff was the only one upon whom the general +restlessness had no effect. He sat at his writing table, cut out his cases, +numbered, registered, pasted, wrote. He shook his head smilingly over the little +lawyer's terror, but promised him his protection in any case.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Make your mind easy, my friend!" said he patronizingly. "So +long as I am living, you have no cause for anxiety!" And with a pompous air he +added: "I have been to see him. He told me that the "Rajah" had promised him his +soul. Voilà tout. You may rely on Michael Petroff!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thank you!" whispered the lawyer, and started to kiss +Michael Petroff's hand.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh no! Why should you?" said Michael Petroff, but he felt +pleased and flattered.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer was calmer as he turned away. But in the night he +heard Engelhardt crying out and crept under the bedclothes with his teeth +chattering. It seemed to him as if he were buried in the ground, on a high +mountain and he scarcely dared to breathe for fear. But just then he saw an +enormous flock of birds flying swiftly over the sky in a gentle curve. He +beckoned to them and called out: "Where are you going?"—"Come too, come too!" +chirped the birds in answer. "To Vienna, to Vienna!" and they flew away in the +distance. The lawyer gazed after them and fell asleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah's" strength failed visibly, although artificial +nourishment was given him, by Dr. März's orders. He was fading away as fast as +twilight in the tropics. His brown face and hands had taken on a dull gray hue, +like dry garden earth, and his broad and powerful chest rose and sank rapidly +and silently under the bedclothes. His eyelids, which were paler than his face, +drooped so as to half cover his eyes, but as soon as any one entered the room, +they opened slowly, and his large, brilliant eyes rested questioningly on the +newcomer.</p> + +<p class="normal">His pulse was growing weak and rapid, and Dr. März sat almost +constantly at the sick man's bedside. The rapid loss of strength was +incomprehensible to the Doctor, and the inexplicable and rapid decline of the +heart action caused especial anxiety. He sat there, closing his eyes from time +to time, observed the patient, considered, tried all conceivable means—and by +evening he knew that the "Rajah" was beyond all human aid.</p> + +<p class="normal">"How is he, Doctor?" asked Michael Petroff, who had been +watching for the Doctor in the corridor, and nodded his head toward the +"Rajah's" door.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, not so badly off!" answered Dr. März absentmindedly.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff laughed softly behind his back. Then he went +at once to the lawyer's room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The 'Rajah' is dying!" he said with a triumphant glance.</p> + +<p class="normal">The lawyer looked up at him timidly; he did not answer.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Yes!" Michael Petroff sat down in a cane-seated chair, and +drew up his trousers a little, so as not to get them out of shape at the knees. +"I asked the Doctor just now. He answered: 'Not so badly off.' Now that means +that the 'Rajah' is dying. When Heinrich was dying, Heinrich who used to sing +the jolly songs that you laughed at so, my friend, what did the Doctor say? 'Not +so badly off!' And Heinrich died. Oh yes! I understand the doctors."</p> + +<p class="normal">The little lawyer wrapped himself in his shawl. He was +freezing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"He is sucking the soul out of his body," continued Michael +Petroff with an important air. "He understands his business, Engelhardt does. +How did he manage with Schwindt, the attendant? The very same way, don't you +see!"</p> + +<p class="normal">And Michael Petroff left the room, rubbing his hands +cheerfully. He was interested in everything that went on around him, in +everything that he +<i>saw through</i>. There was news—! In the best of spirits, he sat down at his +writing table to give the final touches to his article: "Doctor März arrested."</p> + +<p class="normal"> +That very night, toward three o'clock, the "Rajah" died. It was a warm, still +night and the moonlight was so bright that one could read out of doors. The +patients were restless, they cleared their throats, walked up and down and +talked together. But once in a while they would all be silent: that was when +Engelhardt began to scream out. "I can't bear it any longer!" And then he would +declaim aloud the petitions that kings and princes addressed to him on their +knees.</p> + +<p class="normal">The little lawyer had not dared to go to bed. He sat fully +dressed on the sofa, with all his blankets wrapped around him. And yet he was so +cold that his teeth chattered. Whenever Engelhardt began to cry out, he moved +his lips in prayer and crossed himself.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff, on the contrary, had gone to bed with +complete unconcern. He lay, with his arms under his head, and pondered over a +suitable title for his next paper. For this time he would take the Doctor by +surprise, he would catch him—just wait and see! What was the sense of a title +like the <i>Non-Partisan</i>, if you please? Could one overcome this +case-hardened Doctor with that? What? Oh, no, no. Surely not. The title must +smell of fire and brimstone. It must be like the stroke of a sword, like the +muzzle of a gun aimed at the Doctor—for Dr. März must be startled when he reads +the title! And after much reflection, Michael Petroff decided that this time he +would call his paper <i>The Sword of the Archangel</i>. He could plainly see +this Archangel sweeping obliquely forward, with terrible fluttering garments and +an appalling and angry mien, holding his sword with both hands somewhat backward +above his head. And this sword, that was as sharp as a razor and very broad at +the back, slit the firmament open and a steaming bloodred stream appeared. This +steaming red stream gave Michael Petroff a feeling of luxurious delight. He sat +up and said: "Just wait! Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p class="normal">But suddenly he covered his eyes with his hand. A dim, longing +pain had come over him, and he could not tell why.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Michael Petroff—?" said he softly, "Michael Petroff—?" and +the tears sprung to his eyes. And so, with his hand over his wet eyes and a +confused sorrow in his heart, he fell asleep.</p> + +<p class="normal">He was sleeping soundly when he was awakened by a knock at his +door: "It is I, the attendant, don't be startled."</p> + +<p class="normal">"What is it!"</p> + +<p class="normal">The attendant stepped in and said in an undertone: "Dr. März +told me to ask you to come. The teacher wants to speak to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"The teacher?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The 'Rajah,' you know."</p> + +<p class="normal">"You do not know what he wants of me?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"No, Dr. März has sent for you."</p> + +<p class="normal">"Very well, I will come."</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff rose and made his toilet slowly and +scrupulously. The attendant came back and begged him to hurry. Michael Petroff +was tying his cravat carefully. "I am coming at once," said he impatiently, "but +I can't make a call half dressed."</p> + +<p class="normal">Finally he was ready; he looked in the glass a moment, stroked +his moustache and stepped out.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh Captain!" whispered the little lawyer through the crack of +the door, for the knocking and talking in Petroff's room had made him still more +anxious. "I beg you—!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am in a hurry," answered Michael Petroff, and hastened +along the corridor. As he passed Engelhardt's door he heard him declaiming: "We +pray thee, do not destroy the dome of the world. Praised be thy name!" And with +an altered, gasping voice Engelhardt went on: "I am struggling, I am +struggling—!" In the room overhead a step went restlessly up and down, back and +forth, like the distant throbbing of a machine.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then the attendant opened the door of the "Rajah's" room and +Michael Petroff stepped in.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Good morning!" said he, loudly and cheerfully, as if it were +broad daylight and as if the "Rajah" were not a dying man. "Good morning, +Doctor. Here I am.—Good morning—Prince!" he added more softly after a glance at +the "Rajah." "Michael Petroff, Captain in the Russian army."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah's" appearance had greatly impressed Michael +Petroff. The "Rajah" was sitting up in bed with his great dark eyes fixed upon +him. A shaded electric light burned above his head, but in spite of the dim +light the "Rajah's" face, framed by his dark hair and beard, shone like dull +gold, yes, it positively shone. And it was this strange brightness which had so +impressed Michael Petroff that he spoke more softly and addressed him as Prince. +He had, in fact, never seriously considered who the "Rajah" really was. He was a +Prince, who possessed a great kingdom somewhere and lived in exile. Now Michael +Petroff believed all this without thinking very much about it. Yet at this +moment he +<i>understood</i> that the "Rajah" was a Prince, and he entirely altered his +bearing toward him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"You were pleased to send for me?" said he, with timid +hesitation, and bowed.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" turned his face toward Dr. März.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I thank you, Sir," he said, in a deep, quiet voice, whose +tone had changed. "I know that you could have refused me this favor, since I am +your prisoner."</p> + +<p class="normal">"My dear friend"—answered the Doctor, but the "Rajah" paid no +further attention to him.</p> + +<p class="normal">"I sent for you," he said, turning to Michael Petroff, "in +order that you may write down my last will and testament."</p> + +<p class="normal">"I am at your disposal," answered Michael Petroff, bowing +slightly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then write what I tell you."</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff felt in his pockets confusedly. "I will run," +said he, "I will be back at once"—and he left the room rapidly, to bring pencil +and paper from his office.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Michael Petroff—" whispered the little lawyer pleadingly. +"You are leaving me—?"</p> + +<p class="normal">"The 'Rajah' commands me!" answered Michael Petroff +impatiently, and hurried past the trembling lawyer's little outstretched hands +back to the dying man's room.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Here I am, pardon me?" he stammered breathlessly.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Then write!" said the "Rajah."</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael seated himself properly and the "Rajah" began:</p> + +<p class="normal">"We, Rajah of Mangalore, banished by the English Government, +too noble to harbor feelings of revenge toward our enemies, since we are dying, +in order to rescue our subjects, make known to our people:</p> + +<p class="normal">"We greet you, our people! We greet the palm forests that +shelter the temples of our ancestors! We greet the blue river that refreshes our +land!"—</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff, who was writing busily and industriously what +the "Rajah" dictated, looked up as the "Rajah" paused. He saw that two great +tears were falling from the "Rajah's" brilliant dark eyes. They ran down his +thin but strangely glowing cheeks into his beard.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" raised his hand with a dignified gesture. Then he +went on to the end calmly and majestically:</p> + +<p class="normal">"We grant a universal amnesty! All our dungeons and prisons +are to be opened and then burned to ashes. From this time forth no more blood +shall be shed!"</p> + +<p class="normal">"Oh, my Lord—my Prince—!" whispered Michael Petroff as he +wrote.</p> + +<p class="normal">"There shall no longer be an army in our land and no man shall +go begging with his bowl. The treasure in our vaults shall be equally shared +among our people. Neither castes nor classes shall exist from this time forth. +All men shall be equal and all shall be brothers and sisters.</p> + +<p class="normal">"The aged shall have their huts to die in, and to the children +we bequeath the meadows to play in. To the sick we grant health, and to the +unhappy sleep, quiet sleep. There shall be no more war and no more hatred +between the peoples, whatever their color, for so we decree. The judges shall be +wise and just, and to evil doers one must say: Go and be happy, for unhappiness +causes evil doing.</p> + +<p class="normal">"To mankind we grant the earth, that they may occupy the same, +to the fish we give the waters and the sea, to the birds the heavens, and to the +beasts the forests, and the meadows that lie hidden amongst them!</p> + +<p class="normal">"But you, our own people, we bless and kiss you, for we are +dying."</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" raised his hands in benediction and sank back upon +the pillows.</p> + +<p class="normal">All who were present remained motionless and gazed at him. His +chest rose and fell feebly and rapidly while his lids drooped over his eyes and +showed like bright spots in his dark face.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. März stepped gently to the bedside.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just then the "Rajah" smiled. He threw his head back and +opened his lips, as if he were going to sing. But only a thin, musical cry +passed his lips, so high, so thin and so far away that it seemed as if the +"Rajah" were already calling from some distant realm. It was the cry of the +street venders in the Orient.</p> + +<p class="normal">The "Rajah" was dead.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff stood on tiptoes and gazed with parted lips at +the pale, mysteriously beautiful face that shone beneath the rich dark hair. He +felt a sense of shame. He had lived so long with him who was now dead, without +realizing who he was. He longed to kneel beside the dead man's bed and whisper: +"Prince, my Prince!" But he did not dare to approach, he was afraid and stole +out of the room.</p> + +<p class="normal"> +After a while, when Dr. März stepped out into the corridor, he was impressed by +the quiet that reigned in the ward. There was not a sound to be heard. The +muffled tread overhead, that had paced back and forth for hours, was still. And +Engelhardt had ceased crying and groaning.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dr. März went to the shoemaker's door. All was as still as +death within. He opened the door and listened. Engelhardt—was sleeping! His +breathing was deep and regular ... Dr. März shook his head and went thoughtfully +out of the ward. On the steps leading to the garden he lit a cigar and turned up +his coat collar. He was shivering.</p> + +<p class="normal">So now he is asleep, thought he, as he walked through the +moonlit garden, where the bushes cast long, pale shadows. Is there any +discoverable connection between the teacher's death and Engelhardt's sleep? And +he thought of one of his colleagues, who would invent a connection in any case, +and then he thought how much he would enjoy a cup of strong coffee just now. +Suddenly he paused, slightly startled. In the moonlight a little man, all +wrapped up, was moving. It was the lawyer.</p> + +<p class="normal">The little man had passed the whole night shivering and +trembling in his dark room. But when the first cock crowed he had slipped out of +the ward to water his flowers.</p> + +<p class="normal">"Hush, hush!" he whispered to the thousands of little birds +that began to chirp in the bushes as soon as he came near. "Sleep a bit longer, +little ones!"</p> + +<p class="normal">And while he was watering the flowers, he quite forgot the +night, the "Rajah," and Engelhardt who needed another soul, and began to smile. +"Good morning, my pets," he said softly, "here I am, I have come back to you."</p> + +<p class="normal">But in Michael Petroff's room the light was burning.</p> + +<p class="normal">Michael Petroff was sitting at his writing table, smiling and +goodhumored, writing diligently. For the impression that the "Rajah's" death had +made upon him had vanished as quickly as the tears that he had shed for him. He +was now working on an article which he regarded as a marvelously important +contribution for his newspaper. And this work brought back his happy cheerful +spirits.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the neatest characters he wrote:</p> + +<p class="normal">"A telegram! The Rajah of Mangalore—against whose exile we +have registered our telegraphic protest with the English Government—fell gently +asleep tonight toward three o'clock. We had the honor to be present at his +deathbed and to draw up the last will and testament of this great ruler. We will +favor our readers with a copy:</p> + +<p class="normal">"'We, Rajah of Mangalore, banished by the English Government, +too noble to harbor feelings of revenge toward our enemies, since we are dying, +in order to rescue our subjects, make known to our people ...'"</p> + +<p class="normal">Only as the sun rose did Michael Petroff lie down to rest.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="div2_drama" href="#div2Ref_drama">THE CONTEMPORARY GERMAN DRAMA</a></h2> + +<h3>By <span class="sc">Amelia von Ende</span></h3> + + +<p class="normal">A period of transition in a nation's life is not the best +foundation upon which to rear a new literature. The change of religious, moral, +I social and political standards from their well-established and time-honored +base to new and untried planes does not favor the development of minds, +well-defined and well-balanced, and of characters, able to translate a clear +purpose into consistent achievement.</p> + +<p class="normal">Germany passed through such a change toward the end of the +nineteenth century. The unification of the Empire with its era of material +prosperity and progress strengthened the roots of national consciousness; the +gospel of the superman with its absolute ego-cult stimulated individual +self-assertion; the wave of altruism which swept across the world at the same +time roused the slumbering sense of social responsibility. These three +forces—national consciousness, individual self assertion, social +responsibility—profoundly affected the character of the young generation growing +up in the newly reestablished Empire. Embracing each of these principles in +turn, theorizing about them, the young men and women of the time became +unsettled. With the gradual realization of the seriousness of the underlying +ideas grew the desire to experiment with them in life, to prove them by +practice. In the attempt to live these new ideals the individual became involved +in a conflict with the old conscience that no philosophy had yet been able to +argue away, and the road out of this dilemma lay along the line of least +resistance, which consisted in drifting with the changing tides. The result was +the gradual evolution of a type of hero which modified the drama of the country. +While the hero of old encountered and conquered obstacles mainly of external +circumstance and complication, the hero of the present is the victim of doubts +and moods rooted within himself, defeating his purpose and paralyzing his will.</p> + +<p class="normal">The modern German drama deals with these conditions and +characters. The writers whose creative instinct awoke in the seventies stood +upon the firm ground of old traditions and were inspired by the optimism of the +national renascence. The writers who responded to the same instinct in the +eighties stood on the plane of a philosophy which had undermined the old +traditions and conventions and had not yet crystallized into constructive +principles that could safely guide the individual through life. Their souls +wavered between self-realization and self-renunciation; their minds eagerly +followed the example of Ibsen inquiring into individual motives and +responsibilities, and their eyes were at the same time opened to the economic +struggle of the masses which had roused the social conscience. A world unknown +to the poets of the previous generation, or ignored by them, had come within the +range of vision; it engaged not only the humanitarian's sympathy and the +philosopher's speculation, but the artist's interest. It was studied for its +scientific meaning and exploited for its esthetic possibilities.</p> + +<p class="normal">The floodgates of a literature rich in stimulating ideas were +opened and the new subject-matter demanded a new manner, a new style. The +influence of Darwin was not lost upon the young generation. The significance of +circumstance and environment in the making of man led to a minute painting of +the milieu, of the external setting of each individual life at every moment of +its existence in drama or fiction. The language of the characters became the +language of their class in ordinary life. The action was immediately and +directly transferred to the written page and became a record of unadorned +reality. The cry for truth became one of the party cries of the period. +Naturalistic fiction and naturalistic drama came into being.</p> + +<p class="normal">Within the brief space of less than twenty-five years were +born three men whose literary personalities represent this development of German +drama. Ernst von Wildenbruch in the main held fast to the traditions of the +past, which he treated in historical plays in the manner of a poet who had +matured in the period of Germany's unification and was inspired with the +consciousness of national renascence. Hermann Sudermann, who rose on the horizon +just as the old traditions began to weaken, chose to ignore the past, took his +cue from the social note of the present, but sought a compromise with the old +forms and with the taste of the great mass of the people. Gerhart Hauptmann, the +youngest of the three, discarded all precedent and built upon new foundations +with new material in a new manner. By the success which he gained in spite of +his uncompromising attitude, he became the leader of the young generation.</p> + +<p class="normal">The intellectual atmosphere in the decade that witnessed the +advent of Sudermann and Hauptmann was extraordinarily alive and stimulating and +the drama was chosen by an amazing number of young aspirants to literary fame as +the vehicle of the message they had for the world. The plays of the period +suggest the fermentation going on in the young brains, the unsettling of old and +the dawn of new creeds, religious, social and esthetic. The clash of two +generations became one of the most popular themes. Cæsar Flaischlen, a Suabian, +handled it most thoughtfully and effectively in <i>Martin Lehnhardt</i>. Though +the author modestly called it "dramatic scenes," it was a play presenting with +spirited rhythm a phase of the spiritual revolution and moral revaluation then +taking place, and in the orthodox uncle and the radical nephew he created two +figures full of real dramatic life. The well-to-do and well-satisfied +middle-class with its somewhat shopworn ideals was a popular topic with these +young men who lustily set about to demolish the Mosaic and other codes of life. +Otto Erich Hartleben was hailed as the Juvenal of the society of his time, +flaying it mercilessly in satirical comedies like <i>Education for Marriage</i>, <i> +The Moral Requirement</i>, and <i>Rose-Monday</i>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Whatever were the shortcomings of these young hot-spurs, there +is no doubt that there were among them earnest seekers for new values of life +and letters. Many were contented with pathetic seriousness and doubtful results +to imitate their successful and popular model, Gerhart Hauptmann. Some made no +attempt at concealing that they walked closely in the footsteps of their master. +Nor did the critics of the new school esteem them any less for being followers +and imitators rather than creators of independent merit. Among these youths, +Georg Hirschfeld, a born Berliner, was the most promising. He was of a type +abundant in every metropolis having an intense intellectual life: sensitive, +impressionable, with an amazing talent for absorption and adaptation and a +facile gift of language. The reception accorded to his drama. +<i>The Mothers</i> (1896), which was frankly reminiscent of Sudermann's contrast +between the front and the rear house and of Hauptmann's dialogue of real life, +was so generous, that it gave the author, then barely twenty-three, a position +quite out of proportion to his achievement. His efforts at following up the +easily won success made him a pathetic figure in the drama of that decade. He +experienced failure upon failure and has now, after the publication of some +stories of varying merit and the stage success of a clever comedy directed +against the esthetes—<i>Mieze and Maria</i>—once more dropped out of sight.</p> + +<p class="normal">A far more robust figure came to the fore in Max Halbe, a West +Prussian and an individuality deeply rooted in the soil of his forefathers. That +soil and his close kinship with nature gave Halbe a firmer foundation than the +shifting quicksands of metropolitan life offered. These were the premises upon +which he set out to build. But he would not have been a child of his time had he +not seen life through the temperament of his generation. With all his sturdy +mental and moral fibre he could not withstand the torrential current of +skepticism and revaluation that swept through the intellectual world and +uprooted its spiritual mainstays. Though the action of his plays was based upon +eternal conflicts of the human tragi-comedy—the irreconcilable contrast between +two generations, between two orders of life, between love and duty—his +characters are of the new type, his unheroic heroes are like the men he saw +about him, reeds swayed by the breath of the Zeitgeist, and true to the +naturalistic creed of his generation they were represented by him without any +attempt at idealization.</p> + +<p class="normal">Halbe made his debut in 1889 with the tragedy of a peasant +parvenu. The play was fashioned according to old formulas, but of charming local +color and with more than a touch of the new type in one of the characters. This +was followed in 1890 by <i>Free Love</i>, the hero of which is one of those +individuals unable to reconcile their convictions with their actions—a conflict +which becomes a source of torture to themselves and those about them. The <i> +Ice-Floe</i> (1892) was a powerful drama, in which the sudden thaw, destroying +what has been, but bringing with it a breath of the spring and the new life to +come, admirably symbolized the passing of the old order. But it was not until +the following year, which saw the publication of his <i>Youth</i>, that Halbe +attracted serious attention outside of the circles of that Young Germany which +has become identified with the literary revolution. +<i>Youth</i> was of a human significance and of an artistic calibre which could +not well be ignored. This work presented the old theme of youth, love and sin in +the provincial setting that he knew so well; the characters were taken from real +life and portrayed with striking truthfulness. But over it all was the +atmosphere of spring, of sunshine and blossoms and thundershowers that quicken +the germs in the womb of the earth. This was suggested with a delicacy and a +chastity rare in the literature of that period of storm and stress. <i>Youth</i> +was the work of a true poet and would have been hailed as such even had the +author been born into a period less generous in its bestowal of praise upon the +works of the "coming men."</p> + +<p class="normal">In <i>Mother Earth</i>, published in 1897, Max Halbe shows +himself at his best both in spirit and in manner. The hero of that play is +estranged from his paternal hearth, with its ancestral traditions and from the +simple rural life and the innocent tender love of his youth. For he has gone to +Berlin, has drifted into the circles of the intellectuals, married the brilliant +and advanced daughter of a professor and become actively interested in feminist +propaganda. Subconsciously, however, this life does not satisfy him, and when on +the death of his father he returns to the old home and feels once more its +charm, he realizes that he has forfeited real happiness for a vague and alien +ideal. In this work with its firmly knit and logically evolved action Max Halbe +reached a climax in his development. Since its production his star has been +steadily declining and the thirteen or more works that have since come from his +pen have not added to his reputation. Embittered by his failures, he chose some +years ago to attack his rivals and critics in a satirical comedy. <i>The Isle of +the Blessed</i>, but he had miscalculated the effect of the poorly disguised +personal animosities upon an audience not sufficiently interested in the +author's friendships and enmities. He has, however, not become sadly resigned to +his fate, like Hirschfeld, but continues to court the favor of the stage with +the tenacity of a man disappointed in his hopes but unwilling to admit his +defeat.</p> + +<p class="normal">An important aspect of the social and esthetic programme of +the new school was the unflinching frankness with which it faced a problem +belonging to intimate life and barring public discussion, yet closely connected +with the economic conditions of society: the problem of sex. The curious revival +of pagan eroticism in lyric poetry and the growing tendency toward a scientific +cynicism in fiction were supplemented by attempts to handle sex from the +standpoint of modern psychology and social ethics in drama. With works of that +class has the name of Frank Wedekind become inseparably associated. He is the +most positive intellect among the writers of Young Germany and their most +radical innovator in regard to form. He is a fanatic of truth and deals only +with facts; discarding the mitigating accessories of the <i>milieu</i>, he +places those facts before us in absolute nudity. This would make him the most +consistent naturalist; but when facts are presented bald and bare, they do not +make the impression of reality, but rather of grotesque caricature. Hence +Wedekind has sometimes been compared with early English dramatists and classed +with romanticists like Lenz, Grabbe and Heine. He himself has no esthetic +theories whatever that could facilitate his being enrolled under some fetching +label. Nor has he any ethical principles, some critics allege, if they do not +curtly call him immoral. Yet his work, from the appearance of <i>Spring's +Awakening</i> (1891) to his <i>Stone of Wisdom</i>, (1909) and his most recent +works, proves him to be concerned with nothing but the moral problem. He treats +social morality with mordant irony from an a-moral standpoint. The distinction +between a-moral and immoral must be borne in mind in any attempt to interpret +the puzzling and paradoxical personality of the author and to arrive at an +approximate understanding of the man behind his work.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_100" href="#pixRef_100"><img src="images/shade.png" alt="In_the_Shade"></a></p> +<p class="center">IN THE SHADE</p> + +<p class="normal">That Wedekind is not only an author, but an actor as well, has +in no small degree complicated his case. The pose seems so inseparably connected +with the art of the actor, that his intransigent policy in sex matters and his +striking impersonations of the characters in his plays have been interpreted as +the unabashed bid for notoriety of a clever poseur. But his acting could hardly +have made palatable to theatre audiences topics tabooed in polite conversation +and with appalling candor presented by him on the stage. Neither his quality as +actor nor his quality as author could account for the measure of popularity his +plays have attained. It would rather indicate that the German public was ready +for open discussion of the problems involved and that Wedekind's frankness and +honesty, his lapses into diabolical grimace and grotesque hyperbole +notwithstanding, met a demand of his time. Nor did he restrict himself to that +one particular problem. His irony spared no institution, no person: lèse-majesté +was one of his offenses; nor did he spare himself. Born into a generation which +took itself very seriously, he created the impression as if he at least were not +taking himself too seriously. Yet a survey of his work, regardless of the +comparisons and conclusions it may suggest, tends to substantiate the claim that +Frank Wedekind is not only an uncompromising destroyer of antiquated sentiment +and a fanatic of positive life, but a grim moralist. It is easy to recognize him +in some of his characters, and these figures, like the banished king in <i>Thus +is Life</i>, the secretary Hetman in <i>Hidalla</i>, the author Lindekuh in +<i>Musik</i>, and others, are always the tragic moralists in an immoral world. +There is something pathetic in the perseverance with which he is ever harping on +the one string.</p> + +<p class="normal">For although he is now one of the more popular writers of his +generation, his attitude has not changed much in the course of his career. The +man who hurled into the world <i>Spring's Awakening</i>, is still behind the +social satirist who has become a favorite with theatre audiences through his +clever portrayal of a crook in <i>The Marquis of Keith</i> and of the popular +stage favorite in <i>The Court Singer</i>. He is little concerned with the +probability of the plot; his situations will not bear the test of serious +scrutiny. They are only the background from which the figure of the hero stands +out in strong relief. The popular tenor, who is an amusing combination of the +artist and the businessman, is one of the characters in the plays of Wedekind +that have little or no trace in them of the author himself. He is seen with +astonishing objectivity and presented with delectable sarcasm. The story of the +famous singer, who between packing his valise to take the train for his next +engagement, studying a new role, running over numerous letters from admirers, +makes love to the one caller he cannot get rid of, a woman who chooses that +inopportune moment to shoot herself before his eyes, is a typical product of his +manner, and a grotesque satire upon the cult of histrionic stars practised by +both sexes.</p> + +<p class="normal">While the initiative in the literary revolution of which Halbe +and Wedekind are such striking examples was taken by Northern Germany and +centred in Berlin, Austria was not slow in adding a note of its own by giving +the German drama of the period two of its most interesting individualities. Both +Arthur Schnitzler and Hugo von Hofmannsthal—to whom might be added the clever +and versatile Hermann Bahr—reflect the complex soul of their native city, +Vienna; for if Austria is acknowledged to be a most curious racial composite, +Vienna contains its very essence. Situated at the parting of the ways for the +South and the Orient, it has ever been a much-coveted spot. After the conquest +of the original Celtic settlement by the Romans, Teutons, Huns, and Turks have +successively fought for its possession and have left their imprint upon its +physiognomy. Intermarriage with the neighboring Czechs and Magyars, the +affiliations of the court with Spain, Italy, and France, and the final +permeation of all social strata by the Hebrew element, have produced what may be +called the Viennese soul. Political conditions, too, have influenced it: to +maintain peace in a country which is a heterogeneous conglomerate of states +rather than an organic growth, requires a diplomacy the chief aim of which is to +prevent anything from happening. This attitude of the Viennese court and its +vast machinery of functionaries slowly affected other classes, until the people +of Vienna as a body seem to refrain from anything that means action. It is this +passive fatalism which has hampered the intellectual development of Vienna. +Oldest in culture among the German-speaking cities of Europe it has never been +and is not likely ever to be a leader.</p> + +<p class="normal">Minds that entered upon this local heritage were only too +ready to receive the seeds of skepticism abundant in the spiritual atmosphere of +the century's end. But Nietzsche's gospel of the Superman, Ibsen's heretical +analysis of human motives and Zola's cry for truth did not affect the young +generation of Vienna intellectuals as they did those of Paris or Berlin, where +the revision of old standards of life and letters was promptly followed by +daring experiments with new ideals. Young Vienna heard the keynotes of the new +time, but it was content to evolve a new variety of an old tune. Time-honored +pessimism, world-sorrow, gave way to a sophisticated and cynical world-weariness +which is symptomatic of decadence. Widely different as their individualities +present themselves, between the pages of their books and on the stage, both +Schnitzler and Hofmannsthal reflect that attitude of mind.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the work of Arthur Schnitzler the Hebrew element +predominates; it has quickened the somewhat inert Vienna blood and finds +expression in analytical keenness and sharpness of vision, a wit of Gallic +refinement and a language of sparkling brilliancy. Schnitzler's profession, too, +has not been without some influence upon his poetical work. A physician facing +humanity daily not in strength and health, but in weakness and disease, cannot +divest himself of a certain pessimistic bias. Brought up and practising in a +city like Vienna, he cannot escape the cynicism which belongs alike to the man +of the world as to the doctor before whom all veils and pretenses are discarded. +It is difficult, indeed, to banish the idea that the consultation-room of Arthur +Schnitzler, Dr. med., is the confessional which furnishes material to Arthur +Schnitzler, author. For the modern physician is not concerned with his patient's +body only, but also with his soul. He must be a psychologist as well, and the +success of his diagnosis depends upon his skill to unravel the intricate +interrelations between both. That Schnitzler is such a physician admits of no +doubt. His perspicacity as diagnostician lends subtlety to his analysis and +portrayal of characters. While his professional bias may in a manner limit the +range of his vision, his professional knowledge and experience are strong assets +of the dramatist Schnitzler.</p> + +<p class="normal">The world that he knows best is the modern society of Vienna. +His heroes are mostly men engaged in a quest for the joys of life, but never +attaining whole-hearted enjoyment, because of their innate streak of +world-weariness. When the hero of his <i>Anatol</i> (1893) calls himself +"light-hearted pessimist," Schnitzler creates a term which fits as well his +Fedor in <i>Märchen</i> (1894), his Fritz in <i>Liebelei</i> (1895), and other +specimens of a type related to the heroes of Musset and other Frenchmen. His +women, too, have a streak of French blood, both his "sweet girls" and his +married heroines; but unmistakably Austrian and Viennese is their willingness to +resign rather than to resist. Frau Gabriele give Anatol flowers to take to his +sweetheart and bids him tell her: "These flowers, my ... sweet girl ... a woman +sends you, who can perhaps love as well as you, but had not the courage ..." The +playlets collectively called <i>Anatol</i> are only scenes and dialogues between +two men or a man and a woman exchanging confidences. Limited as he seems in his +choice of themes and types, both by temperament and association, it is amazing +with what virtuosity Schnitzler varies almost identical situations and +characters until they are differentiated from one another by some striking +individual touch and when presented on the stage act with a new and potent +charm.</p> + +<p class="normal">For that just balance of contents and form which makes for +perfection, Schnitzler's renaissance drama <i>The Veil of Beatrice</i> is the +most noteworthy specimen. But in all his work his style is his greatest +achievement. It is of a rare spontaneity, vivacity and grace—qualities that make +his dialogue appear an impromptu performance rather than a carefully planned +structure. It abounds in paradoxes that do not blind the vision, but reveal +vistas, and that do not impress as high lights added for effect, but as organic +parts of the whole. It scintillates with wit, though it lacks humor. It is the +just medium of expression for his characters, those types of modern +intellectuals, affected by the corrosive skepticism of the period and in turn +buoyed by the light-hearted temperament and depressed by the passive melancholy +that are indigenous to Vienna. It is this literary excellence that renders works +like <i>Literature</i> (1902) and <i>The Green Cockatoo</i> (1899) enjoyable to +readers to whom their spirit may be absolutely foreign. It is their polish that +robs their cynicism of its sting and brings into relief only their formal +beauty. <i>Literature</i> deals effectively with the literary exploitation of +intimate personal experience: it presents characters which with due local +modification can be found in every intellectual centre and is a little +masterpiece of irony. In <i>The Green Cockatoo</i> the poet has seen his theme +in a sort of phantasmagorical perspective; he plays with reality and appearance +in a play within a play which is unique in literature. He makes his spectators +feel the hot breath of the French Revolution without burdening them with the +ideas that were back of it. It is the most solidly constructed of his works and +the one most sure of success on any stage. Exquisite as is the art of +Schnitzler, it is deeply rooted in life and does not approach that art for art's +sake which was one of the striking phenomena of that period.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet the atmosphere of Vienna and the leisurely pace of its +life seem to favor the development of an art that has little or no connection +with the pressing realities of the day and is bent upon seeking the beauty of +the word rather than the truth of its message. Such a movement had been +inaugurated in German letters in 1890 by Stefan George, who gathered about him a +small group of collaborators in the privately circulated magazine <i>Blätter für +die Kunst</i>. It stood for a remoteness from reality which formed a strong +contrast to the naturalistic creed and for a formal craftsmanship which set out +to counteract the grooving tendency to break away from the fetters of +conventional forms. The work of the group bordered often upon archaic +preciosity, yet its influence was wholesome in holding up the ideal of a +formalism which is after all one of the basic conditions of art. Though not a +native of Vienna, Stefan George settled there after launching the movement and +found among its young intellectuals not a few disciples that have since followed +in his wake. There is something about an art for art's sake that appeals to an +aristocracy of birth and breeding; it touched a responsive chord in the soul of +Hugo von Hofmannsthal,[A] whose earlier work distinctly shows its influence and +who to that influence still owes his admirable mastery of form.</p> + + +[Footnote A: For Hofmannsthal, compare Vol. XVII, pp. 482-527.] + + +<p class="normal">Hofmannsthal's descent from an old nobility that had passed +the zenith of its power and was but little modified by a strain of the more +democratic Hebrew blood, seemed to predestine him for the part he has played in +the literature of the present. He made his debut as a mere youth of seventeen, +when in 1891 he published the dramatic study +<i>Yesterday</i>, giving evidence of an amazingly precocious mind and a +prematurely developed formal talent. Gifted writers of that kind are usually +doomed to remain prodigies whatever may be their medium of expression. Coming +into their heritage, which is the accumulated knowledge and experience of their +ancestors, before they have acquired a direct and profound grasp of life, they +seem to enter the world full-fledged, while it is only that ancestral heritage +that works through the impressions of the youthful brain and gives them the +color of age. Knowing and satiated when the mind is most receptive, such +individualities rarely develop beyond their first brilliant phase. Hugo von +Hofmannsthal was for a long time considered a perfect specimen of that type. For +the hero of that first work, as of every work published by him during the first +decade of his career, was his double, was Hofmannsthal himself. All the +virtuosity of style could not conceal the paucity of invention in subject matter +and in the creation of real living characters. Even in that charming Oriental +play <i>The Marriage of Sobeide</i> (1899) and <i>The Mine of Falun</i> (1906) +the personality of the author obtrudes itself upon the vision of the reader.</p> + +<p class="normal">These works, however, marked a transition. For with his +thirtieth year Hofmannsthal entered upon a new period and a new manner. The +study of the antique Greek drama and of early English dramatists diverted him +from the self-absorption and self-reflection of his previous work, and may have +brought home to him the necessity of finding a more fertile source for his art +than his own individual soul. The extraordinary success of Wilde's <i>Salome</i> +opened possibilities of applying the pathological knowledge of the present to +the interpretation of the past. He chose for this momentous departure the <i> +Electra</i> of Sophocles (1903). Taking from the Greek poet the mere skeleton of +the story, he modified the characters according to his own vision and the +psychopathic viewpoint of the time—a liberty which some critics justified, +others branded as an unpardonable license. But the work was a turning-point for +Hofmannsthal, for he has since begun to face life more directly and squarely and +though he has not reached a wholesome reading of it, he has at least struck new +and powerful notes that contrast strongly with the spirit of his previous works. +Enforced by the music of Richard Strauss, whose naturalism is the immediate +expression of his robust virility, Hofmannsthal's <i>Electra</i> has made the +name of the author known throughout the world. To his association with the +sturdy Bavarian composer is also due the comedy <i>Der Rosenkavalier</i> (1911), +which with its daring situations and touches of drastic burlesque harks back to +the spirit of the comedy of Molière's time, though in its way it is also a +product of the reaction against the puerile and commonplace inoffensiveness of +mid-century letters inaugurated by Young Germany. Since his association with +Richard Strauss has weaned Hofmannsthal from the somewhat effete estheticism and +pessimism of his youth, it is a matter of interesting conjecture what further +effect it may have upon his development.</p> + +<p class="normal">It seems to follow with the inevitableness of a physical law, +that the alternate swing of the pendulum between a naturalism which set above +everything the material fact and the cry for truth, and a subtle estheticism +which set the word above the spirit, would in the end usher in an art that had +profited by and learned to avoid both extremes. There was little surprise when +the Royal Schiller prize, which had not been awarded for some years, was in 1908 +divided between Karl Schönherr[A] for his play <i>Erde</i> and Ernst Hardt for <i> +Tristram the Jester</i>. For Schönherr, the Tyrolese, had drawn his inspiration +from the source which ever Antæsus-like renews the strength of humanity, and +Hardt had drawn upon the rich source of racial lore. But when a jury consisting +of men like Dr. Jacob Minor, Dr. Paul Schlenther, Hermann Sudermann, Carl +Hauptmann and others within a few weeks after that contest awarded the popular +Schiller prize also to Hardt and for the same play, with a competitor like +Hofmannsthal in the race, it seemed safe to argue that this unanimity indicated +a turn of the tide. Both Schönherr and Hardt stand for that sane eclecticism +which seems destined to pilot German drama out of the contrary currents to which +it has long been a prey toward a type more in harmony with the classical ideal.</p> + + +[Footnote A: For Schönherr, compare Vol. XVI, pp. 410-479.] + + +<p class="normal">Though comparatively unknown when he issued as victor from +those contests and suddenly obtained a measure of celebrity, Hardt was by no +means a novice in the world of letters. The first book bearing his name, <i> +Priests of Death</i> (1898), contained some stories of an epic dignity and a +dramatic rhythm that challenged attention and secured interest for the works +that followed. These were another volume of fiction, one of poetry, some plays +and a number of translations from Taine, Flaubert, Balzac, and other French +writers, which are remarkable specimens of his ability to grasp the spirit of a +foreign world and to convey its essence through the medium of his native tongue. +It seems natural that his familiarity with French literature had some influence +upon the character of his prize drama, since he had chosen for its topic a story +belonging alike to German and Gallic lore. To re-create the story of Tristan and +Isolde upon the foundation of the German source would have challenged comparison +not only with the cherished epic of Master Gottfried of Strassburg, but also +with the music-drama of Richard Wagner, who had treated it with something like +finality,—at least for the present generation. By going back to the old French +legend and to J. Bédier's book <i>Le roman de Tristan et Yseult</i> (1900), the +author was able to present that most tragic of all love-stories from a different +angle. By complicating the plot through the introduction of the second Isolde, +jealousy became the secondary, though hardly less powerful theme. This deviation +from the comparatively simple plot of the German story is of course more +difficult of comprehension upon the stage. It is not easy to convince an +audience that jealousy of Isolde White-hand, whom Tristan had married after +being banished from Cornwall, blinds Isolde Blond-hair into refusing to +recognize him when he returns and pleads his case before her in the disguise of +Tristram the Jester. Cavilling critics were quick to discover and to expatiate +upon this weakness of the play. But the fine lines upon which it is built and +the plastic figures standing out against the medieval background, the glowing +color, radiant lights and brooding shadows of its atmosphere, and lastly, the +language, the verse-form admirably adapted to the subject,—all this together +makes of the drama a work coming very near that perfect balance of contents and +form which is the ideal of art.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is a rather circuitous path which German drama has traveled +since the memorable performance of Gerhart Hauptmann's play <i>Before Sunrise</i> +in 1889. It has outgrown the one-sided naturalism which had seemed the only +medium of translating life directly into literature. It has turned aside from +the orphic symbolism and verbal artistry rooted only in literature and having +nothing in common with life. Men like Karl Schönherr, Carl Hauptmann, and others +have found in the native soil and its people and in the problems that confront +that people at all times as rich a source of thematic material as previous +generations of poets had found in the historic past. Men like Ernst Hardt and +others have infused new life into the old legends of racial lore. As German +drama is completing this cycle of its development it gives hopeful evidence of +returning to the safe middle course of normal growth toward a new type, +indigenous to the soil and the soul of the country.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_halbe" href="#div1Ref_halbe">MAX HALBE</a></h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div2_earth" href="#div2Ref_earth">MOTHER EARTH</a></h2> + + +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h3> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Paul Warkentin</span>, <i>publisher of a +feminist journal</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Hella Warkentin-Bernhardy</span>, <i>his +wife</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Dr. von Glyszinski</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Heliodor von Laskowski</span>, <i>owner of +the estate Klonowken</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>, <i>his wife</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>, <i>estate owner</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Raabe, Senior</span>, <i>estate owner</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>, <i>estate owner</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnasse</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Raabe, Junior</span>, <i>student</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>, <i>physician</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc"><span class="sc">Mertens</span></span>, <i> +manager of a factory</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Josupeit</span>, <i>rentier</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>, <i>widow of a teacher</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Kunze</span>, <i>organist</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Schrock</span>, <i>licentiate</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Zindel</span>, <i>inspector</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Lene</span>, <i>chambermaid</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>, <i>coachman</i></p> + +<p class="center">Time: The present. Place: Estate Ellernhof.</p> + + +<h2>MOTHER EARTH (1897)</h2> + +<h3>A Drama in Five Acts</h3> + +<h4>TRANSLATED BY <span class="sc">Paul</span> H. GRUMMANN, A.M.</h4> +<h4>Professor of Modern German Literature, University of Nebraska</h4> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT I</h2> + +<p class="hang1">Ancient hall of the manor. Broad and spacious. Low ceiling. In +the rear wall, toward the garden, the bare trees of which are visible, three +wide windows with white crossbars. Chair at both ends of each window. A folding +card table between the chairs of the middle window. An Empire commode in each +space between the windows. In the centre of the two lateral walls, folding +doors, the one at the left leading into another room, the one at the right into +the vestibule. On the left, in the foreground, a sofa which is well preserved +and gives evidence of former elegance, and similar chairs with stiff backs and +light variegated covers, grouped around a large oval table. Opposite this in the +foreground at the right, an old-fashioned fireplace, before which three similar +chairs are placed. In the background at the right, near the window, a spinet +with a chair before it. In the corresponding place on the left near the window a +tall, gilt framed mirror resting on a cabinet base. An old fashioned chandelier, +ornate with gilt and glass, is suspended in the centre of the hall. A number of +pictures, men and women in the fashions of the last one hundred years, cover the +walls. Painted board floor. Rugs only before sofa and spinet. Furniture in light +mahogany. Wall paper of gilt design. Solid, but faded finery of the twenties and +thirties of the nineteenth century with a few more recent additions. The general +character of the hall is bright and inviting, nevertheless serious and somewhat +shut in by the low ceiling, giving the large room an air of emptiness, for the +scant furniture along the walls seems to be lost. A mixture of a dancing hall +and an ancestral portrait gallery. At present it looks gloomy, almost spectral. +It is an early morning near the end of December. As yet not a ray of sunlight +comes in through the heart-shaped apertures of the shutters, which are hung on +the outside and are fastened on the inside by means of thumbscrews. A lamp +stands at the extreme end of the room on one of the commodes. Beyond its radius +deep shadows gather on every side. In the foreground logs are burning brightly +in the fireplace. An indistinct light falls past the chairs over the foreground. +From the other side, the light of a candle falls upon the sofa table which is +covered with a white cloth. It also illumines only the immediate vicinity. Dusk +predominates in the spacious hall. At every passing and repassing great shadows +flit back and forth.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> stands on a chair under the +chandelier and slowly revolves it, scrutinizing it, and causing the glass prisms +to tinkle.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> in a fur coat and cap +stands at the door on the right and is about to go out.</p> +<br> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with a heavy gray cloth +wrapped about her head, speaks down from the chair). Yes, just go and see, +Zindel, whether they are coming; see whether you can hear anything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Just so, Miss. I +shall be back right off. (He opens the door and runs into <span class="sc">Lene</span>, +who is about to enter with a tray full of dishes for the morning coffee.) Whoa! +Look out! Don't knock anything over! (Partly to himself.) Or the old man will +play us the trick and wake up again. (He goes out, and closes the door behind +him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (speaking down from the +chair). Is it you, Lene?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (has come forward with the dishes, +shrinks so that the tray and dishes clatter). Heavens and all the saints! Why, I +didn't see you at all, Miss! Why, I was so frightened! (She draws several deep +breaths, places the tray beside the candle on the white cloth of the sofa table, +and begins to arrange the cups.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (as before). Why in the +world are you frightened? You see, don't you, that I am attending to the +chandelier, am doing your work again?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (busy at the table). Expect a +person not to get scared, when all of a sudden a voice like that comes out of +the dark, when, on top of it all, a dead man's in the house. As a rule I'm not +afraid, but I won't dare to go to the back part of the house alone any more, +it's just as if Mr. Warkentin would turn up right before you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Stuff and nonsense, I +suppose you kept the candle burning the whole night in your room again? I am +likely to come and get your candle one of these days.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Why Miss Clara is afeared +herself. She won't go a step without a light. Ain't it true, Miss Clara, you're +a little afeared too. You only won't let on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I shall afear your back +before long! I have closed the eyes of many in my day. That's nothing new to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (interested). But all of a sudden, +like Mr. Warkentin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. When they get to be about +seventy, one knows how it goes, old widower Fritz in Kobieken went that way too. +Fell over and was gone, it's the best kind of a death. That comes just as it +comes.... Have you arranged the cups?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Everything in order. (Counting.) +The young master, the lady (correcting herself), no, the lady on the sofa and +the young master here (points to a chair), Miss Clara here and the fourth cup +... I suppose some one else is coming with the young master?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, and don't ask so many +questions! Come here and hold the light, I want to light the chandelier.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (comes with the candle). Light the +chandelier? Why, it's almost daytime.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Do as I say. When the young +master arrives, it will still be dark.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (hands the candle up to her). +Wonder whether the young master'll stay long?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has lighted the lights of +the chandelier, one after another). Wait and see. (About to get down.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (extends her hand to her). Now +don't you fall, Miss!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (gets down from the chair +carefully). Now then!... One does realize, after all, that the years are coming +on! When I was of your age, I jumped from the straw stack. You girls of today! +you have no sap, no vim! A girl as strong as a bear, and afraid of going to +pieces.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (admiring the chandelier). Oh my, +but now it's beautiful, Miss Clara! The young master will be pleased when he +comes.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> stands before the +chandelier with folded hands, engrossed in thought. The hall is now brightly +illumined. Only the remotest corners remain in a shadow.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (comes in again from +the right with a lighted lantern, stops in astonishment). The deuce, Miss Clara! +You're up to the business. I do say, the world must come to an end, in grand +style! (He puts down the lantern beside the fireplace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Anything else to do, Miss?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (absent-minded). You may go +now. If I need you I'll call.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (departing). All right, Miss, the +water's been put on for the coffee. (Goes off to the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. I was out on the +road. Miss. Not a sound yet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (starts from her dreams and +points to the chandelier). For ten years it has not been lighted, Zindel! Ever +since Paul has been gone!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (approaching from the +fireplace, mysteriously). Do you know, Miss Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with a start). Goodness!... +What is it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. I say, Miss Clara? +You'll put in a good word for me with the young master? A fellow does want to +know where he's at.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, yes. (Listens toward +the outside.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Especially now that +the old master is dead, and the young master doesn't know about things, all of +the work is on a fellow's shoulders, you see.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (still listening). Don't you +hear something, Zindel? It seems to me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (is startled and +listens also). Where, pray tell?... </p> +<p class="right">[Brief silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (taking her hand from her +ear). No, nothing. It only seemed to me....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Heavens, Miss +Clara!... Where was it—? (He walks up and down restlessly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has sat down in a chair at +the table before the sofa). Now they may be here at any time. What time is it, +Zindel?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Almost seven. Miss. +The Berlin train arrives at ten minutes after six.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. You were outside, Zindel, +weren't you; didn't you hear a carriage on the road?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (warms his hands at +the fireplace). The wind's from the other way, Miss. One can hear nothing. And +it's cold as the deuce! They'll be nice and cold on the way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I do not know how it comes, +but the day seems unwilling to break this morning. How does it look outside?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Dark, pitch dark. Not +a star, nothing. Only over toward the Sobbowitz woods, it's beginning to dawn a +bit.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (yawning). Of course, that's +where the sun must rise.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (also yawning). We'll +not get much of a peep at it today. It's going to be a gloomy day.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Possibly it will snow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. May be, why it's +time. Christmas without snow, I can't remember such a thing for the last few +years.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. No night has ever turned +out as long as the present one for me. I haven't closed an eye. I heard the +clock strike every time. And all the things that I saw and heard!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. (approaching again). +Don't tell it, Miss!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I continually saw the dead +man, but he was alive and opened the door and came toward me. And yet I knew he +was dead. And when I was about to scream, the clock struck and all was gone.</p> +<p class="hang2">[Outside a clock strikes. It has the silvery sound of old +chimes. Both are startled.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Thunderation! You can +put it over a fellow. (He goes back to the fireplace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (counts the strokes, first +in an undertone, then louder, and meanwhile rises). Five ... six ... seven ... +It has struck seven, Zindel. They will surely be here any moment. (She listens +again.) I believe I hear something now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (at the fireplace, +seizes the lantern). Here they are. You can hear the carriage on the road.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (busily). After all they +came sooner than we expected! Hurry, Zindel, they are driving up now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> (already at the door +on the right, swinging the lantern). This minute, Miss Clara ...!</p> +<p class="right">[Goes off.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (also on the way to the +door, stops a moment and folds her hands). If he really <i>is</i> here, praise +and thanks to God!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (appears in the door at the +right). They are coming, Miss Clara, they are coming!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (busy again). Why are you +still there? Out with you and help the guests take off their wraps!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Why, I'm doing that very thing, +Miss!</p> +<p class="right">[Goes off.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (calling after her). And +keep the coffee in readiness, when I ring.</p> +<p class="hang2">[She also goes out at the right, leaves the door slightly open +behind her. Voices are heard outside. Brief silence. Then the door is opened +wide. <span class="sc">Paul</span>, <span class="sc">Hella</span>, <span class="sc"> +von Glyszinski</span>, <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> + appear in the door. <span class="sc">Paul</span> has taken off his coat +and hat outside. + <span class="sc">Hella</span> wears a fur coat and toque. <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span> wears a hat and heavy winter overcoat, turned up over his +ears.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> Well, if it's all right with +you, I prefer to go to my room for the present.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. As you please. Aunt Clara will +show you the way upstairs. Won't you, Auntie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, I'll be glad to show +the gentleman up.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (smiling). Or aren't the +guest-rooms upstairs any more?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (reproachfully). Why, my +boy, we should certainly not think of changing the rooms around. They are very +satisfactory and then they've been there so long.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (as before). Why, of course. They +have been there so long!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Shall we go?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (places her hand on <span class="sc"> +Paul's</span> shoulder). You will find, Paul, everything here is pretty much as +of old. Just make yourself comfortable! I shall be back directly. (To <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>. ) Please, will you come this way? (She points toward the +outside. The two go out. The door is closed behind them.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (who, until now, has not faced the +hall, remains standing in astonishment). Well, the chandelier in full splendor. +(Meditating.) The old chandelier. Heavens, how sacred it was to me when I was a +boy. It was fine of Aunt Clara to light the chandelier.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (meanwhile has slowly walked +through the hall, scrutinizing various things, sits down on the arm of a chair +near the sofa, still wearing her cloak and toque and keeping her muff in her +hand as if she were on the point of departing again at once. She smiles a trifle +sarcastically). Yes, for a bright morning, the chandelier suggests this, that +and what not.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (fixing his eyes upon her calmly). +To me the morning seemed pretty dark, as we were riding along. Didn't it to you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Oh yes, you are right. It was +even disagreeably dark. I kept on fearing we should fall into the ditch. I don't +like to ride in a strange region by night.</p> +<p class="right">[Brief silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (facing <span class="sc">Hella</span>, +shaking his head). I do not see what objections you can have to the chandelier.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (meeting his eye calmly). None +whatever, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Aunt Clara's intentions were +certainly good. One does realize that one was expected. (He turns away and takes +several steps through the hall.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. But you know that I do not like +such occasions. That is simply my disposition. I cannot make myself over.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I certainly do not demand that. +(Turns on his heel and approaches again.) Or have I not always allowed you to +have your own way!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (also compromising). Certainly, +certainly, up to the present we +<i>have</i> agreed on this point.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And shall continue in the future. +(He extends his right hand to +<span class="sc">Hella</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (grasps his hand and looks into +his face squarely). I am true to my old self, Paul, remain so too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Simply because each one of us has +freely gone his own way, nothing has been able to separate us. That is the +reason why we have kept together so firmly, all of these years. Don't you think +so too?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It seems to me that I held that +point of view long before we were acquainted.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (seriously) Rather say, with that +point of view, we found each other. For this point of view, I sacrificed my +home, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, therefore it surprises me +all the more, that you suddenly seem to be forgetting all about that ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. In what respect?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (continuing). That you behave +like a school boy who is coining home for his vacation.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (is silent for a moment, then +continues). Hella!... My father is lying there on his bier. (He points toward +the right.) I did not see him again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Was it your fault? He forbade +you his house! This house!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (without listening to her). I have +not been able to come to an understanding with him. I shall never come to an +understanding with him! Do you realize what that means? (He turns away.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Hella</span> shrugs her shoulders and remains +silent. Pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has walked through the hall with +heavy steps, then becomes composed and speaks in a more unconcerned manner). +Will you take off your things, Hella? (rises, wavering). I don't know, I am +cold.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (near her). But how can you be +cold. The fire is roaring in the fireplace. Our good aunt has made such perfect +preparations. Who knows when she got up in order that we might be comfortable. +(He goes to the fireplace and throws wood into it.) (leaning on the chair, +taciturnly). It is probably due to the night ride.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (approaches her). Well, come +along! I'll help you!... You will surely not remain in your furs. (He helps her. +She takes off her hat and cloak and goes to the fireplace not without +hesitation.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (following her with his eyes, +gloomily). You are acting as if you preferred to leave again at once? (turning +fully toward him). Frankly, Paul, that is what I should like to do.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (flaring up). Hella! (Calm again, +coldly.) I simply do not understand you! (has sat down at the fireplace, holds +her feet up to the fire). I do not understand you, and you do not understand me! +That is as broad as it is long.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shrugging his shoulders). I don't +know how you can think of going away under the present circumstances.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Quite simple. I do not demand +that you shall go with me. You can remain here as long as you are needed, order +your affairs, look about for a purchaser of the estate, and when good luck +favors you in finding him, you can come on. For the present I may as well +precede you to Berlin. You know that editing cannot be put off, the next number +must be out in a week. <i>Both</i> of us <i>can</i> not be absent. At least <i>I</i> +am indispensable.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And for this purpose you made a +trip of eight hours from Berlin to this place? Hella! (He places his hand on her +shoulder.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, this unfortunate trip!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with a deep breath). Unfortunate +trip, yes indeed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. For I must tell you, Paul ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I have a feeling that I am not +quite suited to this place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). Aha! That is at the +bottom of this insistence about the new number of <i>Women's Rights</i>, which +is all but complete even now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (unswervingly). I have a feeling +that I am not adapted to this environment, and my feelings have rarely deceived +me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh, your feelings, Hella! Your +feelings! If you had only followed them solely, many matters would stand better +today! Believe me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I follow my feelings entirely +too much, or I should have remained in Berlin and should not sit here in the +presence of peasants where I have nothing at stake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But I have, Hella! I have very +much at stake here. After all a man does not abandon his inheritance point +blank. Do not forget that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (straightening up). Of what +concern is that to me! Sell it, why don't you! It's nothing but a dead weight to +you anyhow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why, I agree with you, Hella. And +I am in favor of selling the estate. But not today nor tomorrow. Such things +call for deliberation.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. But I simply cannot wait that +long. Just confess it, Paul, my place is in the world. You surely don't expect +me to desert my post. Our whole cause is hazarded, if I throw up the game now. +Particularly at this moment. You are demanding too much!... Do you expect me to +give up my life work, simply because you cannot break away from your clod, on +account of a stupid loyalty?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controlling himself). It seems to +me, Hella, that we have a career <i>in common</i>. You are acting as if you +alone had a career.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. We have had, up to this day. You +are the one who is retreating! Not I!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (becoming excited). Hella! You +have been my friend! My comrade in stress and tribulation, I may say. We have +builded our life on our own resources, our new life, when the old life had +renounced us. We have stood together in the combat, for ten years! Are you +willing to forget that now? (Has stepped up to her and seized both of her +hands.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (tries to disengage herself). +Goodness, Paul ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (fixing his eyes upon her). For +years you have come to me with your wishes. Now I am coming to you! Now your +friendship is to assert itself. Answer me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (convinced against her will, is +forced to smile). Do not fall into tragedy, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (unswervingly). You are to tell me +whether you can leave me alone at this time, whether you can bring yourself to +that point. Only a word!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Am I not here? What else do you +expect? And I shall remain here. At least for the immediate present.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shaking her hands vigorously). +Oh, then all will turn out well! You will remain here! Thank you for that! +(Breaking out in joy.) Now everything may turn out well after all. (He walks to +and fro in suppressed excitement.) Mad as it may sound, Hella, under these +circumstances. (He stops, facing her.) I am almost merry! (He continues to pace +up and down.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (scrutinizes him and shakes her +head). Paul! Paul! Childishness! From one extreme to the other! When will you +come to reason. Take an example in me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stopping in the centre of the +hall, sweeping his hand around). Hella!... This is the soil which nurtured my +youth. Do you expect me not be happy?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (enters again from the +right. She has taken off her head-cloth and wears a black dress). Now then, +Paul, here I am again. Have you made yourself at home? Is it warm enough in the +hall for both of you? You probably got good and cold on the way. You had the +wind to face, didn't you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (reflecting). Yes, pretty much! I +think it was from the east.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. It did take me rather a +long while, didn't it, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You probably had some other +matters that required attention? (Now that she stands directly before him he +looks at her more closely.) And how Aunt Clara has dressed up! (He shakes his +finger at her.) Well, well, Auntie. Still so vain, in your years?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, Paul, this old dress! +(She strokes her skirt with her hands.) I have worn it so many years. Don't you +remember at all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, yes, now ... (Meditates a +moment.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I was wearing it when your +mother died. That is the time I had it made.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (abruptly). Oh yes. That has been +a long time, to be sure!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. In waiting for you, I had +quite forgotten that I still had on my morning dress. So I quickly put on +something else.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. That is exactly what I intend to +do, dear Miss Clara. (She approaches the two.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, Auntie, you see, I don't +even know where you have quartered us? Possibly you would show Hella ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Right next door, dear Mrs. +... Mrs. —— Doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (nodding to her to desist). Well +then, please do not go to any trouble.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Hella</span>, +who has picked up her things). May I relieve you of something? Or can I help you +in any other way? Unlock the trunk, for instance?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (refusing). Do drop these +courtesies, Paul! That kind of thing is certainly not in vogue with us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (curtly). As you please!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Hella</span> goes out with her things through +the open door on the left, closing it behind her.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>, +who has been listening in amazement). So you have lodged us next door? +(Hesitating as he points to the right.) Over there, I suppose ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (nodding). Yes, over there, +Paul, there ... the body lies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gloomily). Shall we not go in. +Aunt Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, not at once, my boy! +You certainly must have something to eat first! Refresh yourself a little. I'll +just call Lene, and have her bring the coffee! (Starts for the bell-pull.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (restraining her). I think we had +better wait until Hella and the gentleman are ready.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (looking at him tenderly). +Now you're not <i>cold</i> at all, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (significantly). No, Auntie, I am +not cold here. (With less constraint.) Just look at the fine fire in the +fireplace, how it flickers and crackles! I believe it too is glad that I am here +again. But who is gladdest of all, well, Auntie, just guess who that may be?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (shaking her head). Why, I +can't know that. I can't guess any more with this old head of mine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (slyly). <i>That</i> she doesn't +know! Oh Auntie, Auntie! Why, you yourself, you good old soul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (unaffectedly). I did light +the chandelier for you, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Of course, the chandelier! Do you +suppose I did not notice that you were at the bottom of that, Auntie? Come give +me your hand; thank you very much, Auntie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (putting her arms around +him). I'm going to give you a kiss, my boy. Your wife will take no offense at +that. (She kisses him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh my wife! That needn't ... (He +gently disengages himself from his aunt's embrace and goes to and fro +meditating.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (following him with her +eyes). Do you still remember, Paul, how I would hold you on my knees and rock +you when you were a little fellow?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (paces to and fro again). Yes, +yes, how all of that comes back again! How it is resurrected from its sleep!... +(He sits down before the fireplace in deep thought and stares into the fire.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (also goes to the +fireplace). Right there, where you are sitting now, my boy, you often read fairy +tales to me, about Snow-White and Cinderella and about the wolf and the old +grandmother ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (dreaming). Fairy tales, yes +indeed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. You sat here, and I here, +and you held up your fairy tale book and acted as if you were grown up ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (smiling). I suppose that's the +way one felt too!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And papa and mamma were out +in society or in the city ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, quite so, that's it. For, on +the whole, as I remember, I was not in this hall frequently. There was always a +little fear mixed up with it. Quite natural! The pictures, the spaciousness, the +emptiness and all that! Later that did disappear. The last time that I was in +this room, when may it have been ...? (He leans his head on his hand in +meditation.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. It was Christmas Eve, ten +years ago, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Christmas Eve ten years ago! You +may be right. I remember it was a short time before I had ... the crash with +father. I had come home at Christmas just because I imagined that that was the +best time to come to an understanding with father about all of those matters, my +future and other affairs, and I also recall that I wanted to allow the holidays +to pass before I dared to come out with my projects, the founding of my journal +and my marriage and all the beautiful surprises! Oh it was postponed as long as +possible. One did have an inkling of what it would lead to. Of course no one had +an idea how it would +<i>really</i> turn out!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. No, Paul, no one had an +idea that that would be the last Christmas Eve that we should celebrate +together. Your father least of all. All of us were as merry as ever. There stood +the tree and the chandelier was lighted ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Correct, correct! And Antoinette +... wasn't Antoinette present too? Why of course? That's what complicated the +matter so terribly for me. There she sits, my father has invited her, I know +that he intends her for me, I am to marry her, I'm to become engaged to her +right under the Christmas-tree, as nearly as I can tell. The word is expected +from me. All of you are waiting, and I ... why I simply can't. I simply +<i>cannot</i>, because I have forged quite different plans for my future, +because I too have obligations, in short, simply because it is impossible. (He +gets up in excitement.) Because it <i>was</i> impossible, Aunt Clara! Because I +imagined I could not stand it in the country, was destined for something better +than a sturdy estate owner and family father, simply because Hella was putting +such bees in my bonnet and because, in my stupidity, I believed it all! Just as +if the world had been waiting for me to come and set it right! Ridiculous! But +at that time I was convinced of it. At that time I had to make a clean breast of +it or it would have cost me my life. But, oh, how I <i>did</i> suffer in those +days!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. If you had only told me +about it, Paul! But I didn't know a thing about it. Not until it was too late +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (breathing deeply). Yes, then it +came quickly. I could not conceal it any longer. It simply burst forth. It can +have been only a few days later ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Three days, my boy ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Three days, yes, very likely. To +me, to be sure, they seemed like eternity. And strangely enough: terrible as the +clash with father was, when he found out what intentions I had and that I did +not want to remain with him and marry Antoinette and take over the estate some +day. Believe me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>, it was a relief in a sense, +after all, when it had been said, and father had forbidden me the house and I +sat in the carriage and drove away and was free for good. Yes for good! That is +what I made myself believe at the time and I fairly breathed with relief and +imbibed the crisp air! That must have been approximately this time of the year. +Why, certainly! Just about. It was at Christmas.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Third holiday is when it +was, Paul. I can still see you get into the carriage. It gave me such a shock. I +thought I'd fall over.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (caressing her). Good soul that +you are! Yes you always took my part ... (Interrupting himself.) Third holiday, +you say, it took place? (Striking his forehead.) Why that is today. Ten years +ago today!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. This very day!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (goes back and forth excitedly). I +say ... I say ... Ten years! Horrible!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And you see, my boy, all +this time these candles have not been lighted! (She points to the chandelier.) +Just as they were put out on Christmas Eve, they are in their places today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gloomily). So that is why you +lighted the chandelier, Auntie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, now that you are here +again, it occurred to me that the candles ought to be lighted again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I think we shall let that +suffice. Broad daylight is already peering through the shutters. (He points to +the background where broad daylight comes in through the heart-shaped apertures +of the shutters, then slowly puts out the candles, one by one.) Now then, let us +put them out!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (goes to the background and +unscrews the shutters, opens them, letting the daylight stream in, and puts out +the lamp on the commode). Praise the Lord! After all it has become daylight once +more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has put out the candles and looks +over at her). What do you mean by that. Aunt Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (having opened the shutters, +comes forward again and whispers). I was forced to think so much, because it was +the first night that your father has been dead and has been lying there in the +corner room.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with suppressed feeling, after a +short struggle). Will you not tell me how father died?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Oh, Paul what is there to +tell about that? Didn't I telegraph to you? Heart failure, is what Doctor +Bodenstein said. He went to bed at ten o'clock that night, as always; it was +night before last, the first holiday.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Didn't he call at all? Did he not +succeed in making himself heard at all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Not a word! From that time +on, no mortal heard another sound from him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (covers his face with his hands, +then hesitatingly). Do you think he still thought of me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The departed thought of you +very often especially lately when thoughts of death were coming to him, I am +certain of that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And did he not want to see me +once more?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. He said nothing about that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Nothing, Aunt Clara? Nothing? +Think!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. He <i>said</i> nothing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (excited). But he <i>thought</i> +it. And did not have time to do it! Now he is taking it down into his grave with +him.</p> +<p class="right">[Pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I was going to ask you, +Paul ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Well? (He stands before her at +the fireplace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. What kind of a man can that +be who came with you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Glyszinski?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why yes, the one I took up +stairs, the young man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Heavens, he is a friend of ours. +Particularly of Hella.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Of your wife? Why, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (smiling). Oh, Auntie! There is no +danger in him. You need not have any scruples about that. Hella indeed crams her +head with thoughts quite distinct from love. She never did suffer from that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. But to think that he just +came along? Did you invite him?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shrugging his shoulders). Well, +what is a man to do? He lives with us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (more and more astonished). +He lives with you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. We keep house together, yes. And +so he wanted to come with us, and Hella was also of the opinion that we could +not exactly desert him. He is likely to do some fool thing. You know he is +always doing fool things ... It <i>wasn't</i> very agreeable to me, I must +confess. But it +<i>would</i> not do to leave him at home. When Hella takes a thing like that +into her head ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Don't be offended, Paul, I +can't get that through my head ... Aren't you the master of your house?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (smiling). Master of my house?... +No, Auntie, Hella would never put up with that and on that point I am forced to +agree with her.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The things that one does +get to hear in one's old age! I'm too dense for that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Well you see. Aunt Clara, these +are views that are not exactly understood in the country. One has to work up to +that gradually.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Are you really happy with +them, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why I have fought almost fifteen +years for these views! Surely a man will not do a thing like that without +serious consideration.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. So you held those very +views at the time when you had your quarrel with your father, who is now dead +and gone?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That's the very reason I went +away, Auntie. Do you understand now why it was impossible for me to remain?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. (after a short silence, +significantly). And do you sometimes still think of Antonie, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (meditating). Antoinette?... Oh +yes, sometimes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Now do be frank, Paul! Has +the thought never come to you that you would really like to have Antonie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (absent-minded). Who? I have her?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why Paul? <i>You</i> have <i> +her</i> and <i>she</i> have <i>you</i>! Didn't you really care for each other a +bit?</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_130" href="#pixRef_130"><img src="images/pg130.png" alt="Max_Halbe"></a></p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (as before, supporting his head on +his hand). Do you think so? That is so long ago? Possibly. What do I know about +it? (He sits up.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. We were always in the habit +of saying they'll make a fine couple when they are big, you and Antonie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Paul</span> (almost painfully). You see, Auntie, what mistakes +one can make. Nothing can be determined beforehand. But I almost think you are +right. I liked her quite well, once upon a time. Something like that begins to +dawn on me. A big, stupid, love-sick lubber. That's <i>me</i>. And <i>she</i> +... What was <i>she</i>? (With the suggestion of a smile.) A remarkably +beautiful, sweet young thing with ashy-blond braids. Yes, yes, something like +that dawns upon me. She did have splendid ashy-blond hair and dark eyes. (He +leans his head on his hand.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. How well you still remember +that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (collects himself again). Yes, +strange, as it comes to me now. But at that time, you know, when I came back as +a student, the aforesaid Christmas, it was all gone, as if obliterated, not a +trace of it left. Then my head was filled with things of quite another nature. +My home had become strange to me, that is it, Auntie. Hella was in my mind. For +that reason nothing could come of it, the match between Antoinette and me. (<span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> +enters from the right, followed by <span class="sc">Lene</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (remaining at the door). Shall I +bring the coffee. Miss Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has also stepped to the +door). Yes, and don't forget the pound-cake!... But no, wait, I'll get it +myself. Just a moment, Paul! (She motions to him and goes out at the right with <span class="sc"> +Lene</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has stepped to the center +of the room. He is faultlessly clad in a black suit, spick and span from top to +toe). Here I am! (He looks about.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (approaches <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>). Yes, here you are!... You have spent much time on your +toilet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Why, not more than usual.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. To be sure! That's correct. +(Looking at him with a bitter senile.) Well it <i>did</i> pay for the trouble. +You are fit for a ball.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>(looks around again). Where +is your wife?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Also busy with her toilet. But +will surely be here directly. It doesn't take her half as long as it does you. +Meanwhile, sit down! (He invites him to sit down on a chair by the sofa.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (sits down on the chair at +the right of the sofa, keeping his eye on the door at the left.) Ah, here comes +madam! (He gets up to meet <span class="sc">Hella</span>, who is just entering +the door on the left, clad in a pleated blouse and a plain skirt.) May I conduct +you to the table, madam? (He offers her his arm.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (places her arm on his and looks +over at the table). Why, is it time?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (leads <span class="sc"> +Hella</span> to the sofa). Please, here in the place of honor.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Is it absolutely required that I +should occupy the sofa? Will you not sit here, Paul? (She stands at the sofa +hesitating.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (with the tips of his +fingers placed together). Please, please, madam. You are to preside!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (walks through the hall with his +hands on his back and speaks over his shoulder). Don't be embarrassed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I am not particularly in love +with this old uncomfortable furniture. I distinctly prefer a pretty modern +fauteuil. (She sits down).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (comes in at the right with the +coffee service, places the tray containing the coffee-pot, cream-pitcher and +cake on the table between the cups. Addresses <span class="sc">Hella</span>). +Miss Clara will bring the pound-cake directly. Shall I fill the cups?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You may go. We shall attend to +that.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Lene</span> casts a curious glance at the +two, then at <span class="sc">Paul</span>, and goes out at the right.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (in an undertone to <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>). Seems to be a regular country hussy. Did you notice the +stupid expression?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (quoting with dignity). Upon +her brow the Lord did nail a brazen slab!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (to <span class="sc">Paul</span>, +who is still walking about). Paul, can't you stop that everlasting marching?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I find it agreeable after the +night's travel. Have you any objections?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, it makes me nervous, +especially here in this awful hall, where every step reverberates ten times +over, because you do not even have the proper carpets. Isn't there another room, +where one can sit with some comfort. (See pours out her coffee.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with restrained asperity). No, +not at present!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Then at least do me the favor to +sit down, your coffee is getting cold, anyhow. (She pours out <span class="sc"> +Paul's</span> coffee.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (approaching). Very well! I shall +sit down then.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (raising his cup). And I, +madam? Am I to have none?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (decisively). Have you forgotten +our household regulations, dear sir?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (grumbling). But he got +some, didn't he?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I have allowed an exception in +Paul's case today. Just take the pot and help yourself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (shaking his head). Too bad! +Too bad! (He pours out his coffee.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has entered from the right +carrying a platter with a large pound-cake). Children, here comes the +pound-cake! Fresh from the oven. It's fairly steaming still. (She cuts the +cake.) You surely haven't taken your coffee already?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (very courteously). You are +really going to too much trouble, dear Miss Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Trouble, well, well. But +now do help yourself! (She puts a large piece of cake on each plate.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (smiling). Do you know, Hella, I +do almost feel as I did as a schoolboy, when I came home for the Christmas +vacation. In those days we would also sit in the hall and over there the fire +would burn and the pound-cake would stand on the table exactly as today. Only +that my mother had done the baking.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (in the chair opposite the +fireplace). Now you must imagine: +<i>I</i> am your mother, Paul. (She has also poured out her coffee and begins to +drink it.) How do you like it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Just as much as in the old days. +It seems to me as if it were today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Then eat away, my boy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You have really had very good +luck with this pound-cake, my dear Miss Clara. Accept my compliments.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (consumes his piece with +great satisfaction). Delicious! A work of art!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You may well feel set up about +that, Auntie. Glyszinski knows all about cake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Yes in such matters we +Poles are connoisseurs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Their whole nourishment is made +up of desserts.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I consider sweets a +thousand times more elegant than that brutal alcohol, which deadens all finer +instincts.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I suppose the gentleman was +also born in this region.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Yes, mademoiselle, I am a +Pole.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. A Pole, and attended the +gymnasium in Berlin!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Unfortunately I got away +too early. Nevertheless I shall remain what I always was.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Do you remember Laskowski, +Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. From Klonowken?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, quite nearby! He owns +the neighboring estate.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why, of course! He is even a +relative in a sense. What makes you think of him. Aunt Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. It just occurred to me, +simply because he is also a Polander and gets along with his German so well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why, I even attended school with +him for a while. He <i>was</i> a fox if there ever was one.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (in a searching manner). +Aren't you glad, Paul, that your father held on to Ellernhof for you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. How so? Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. He might have sold the +estate to Laskowski or some one else.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (who has been leaning back and +playing the part of the silent but attentive listener, takes a hand). I cannot +see in what sense that would have been a misfortune.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. If Ellernhof had gone over into +the hands of strangers? You are simply judging from your point of view. Then I +should never have seen my childhood home again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (forcibly). But what are we to do +with it. We have it on our hands and can't help but be glad to get rid of it at +any price.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with growing uneasiness, to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). What is your wife saying? You intend to go away, intend to sell?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, certainly! As soon as +possible! What else is there for us to do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. You intend to sell the +estate that has been in the family over two hundred years?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. That can be of no possible +advantage to us. Do you expect us to settle down here? Do you suppose I have the +least inclination to degenerate out here in the country?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And you, Paul, what have +you to say to that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Paul fully agrees with me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gets up, distressed). Don't +torment me with that now, good people, I beg of you. I am really not in the +proper mood. There is certainly no hurry about that matter.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Don't you realize that you +will commit a sin, if you sell the fine estate that your father maintained for +you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Oh sin! Sin! Do you not, from +your point of view, consider the manner in which Paul's father behaved toward us +a sin? I am unable to see any difference. There was no compunction about locking +the door upon us. I was treated as a nondescript, bringing disgrace to the +family! As if my family could not match up with the Warkentins any day! After +all, I am the daughter of a university professor, my dear Miss Clara. You +possibly fail to appreciate that a bit. Therefore I repeat to you, Paul hasn't +the slightest reason to be ashamed of me! And he hasn't been. But Paul's father <i> +was</i>. He forced us to earn our daily bread! And now that we have been +successful, now that we have won a place for ourselves, now they begin to think +of us, simply because they need us. Now they are becoming sentimental. No, +dearest! You did not concern yourselves about us! Now we shall not concern +ourselves about you! Now we shall simply pay it all back! That's the sin that +you were talking about. Ellernhof has no claims upon us, (She breathes deeply +and leans back on the sofa.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has hung upon her lips, +enthusiastically). Madam, your hand! (He extends his hand.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (curtly). Oh do let us dispense +with that for the present, doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has been listening from the +fireplace and now approaches). That is quite correct, Hella, but there is one +thing that you must not forget. I really did provoke my father at the time. I +was young and inexperienced. I felt compelled to tell him at the outset, even +before I went to the university, that I did not believe that I should be able to +endure life in the country later on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. And the fact that he expected +you to marry any woman that suited +<i>him</i>; you don't seem to think of that at all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, yes, you are right ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Tell me, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, Auntie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. What in the world have you +to do in Berlin that prevents you from staying here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh, Aunt Clara, that is a +difficult matter! I publish a journal.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. A journal? Hm!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. We publish a feminist journal +which we ourselves have founded and simply cannot desert.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (naïvely). Well is that so +very necessary, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. <i>Is</i> it necessary?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (dubiously). Oh Hella! (Shrugs his +shoulders.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes it is necessary. If <i>you</i> +are able to forget it, <i>I</i> am +<i>not</i>!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I shall not quarrel now, the hour +does not seem fitting to me. I want to go in. (He makes a significant gesture to +the right.) Would you care to go with me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You want to see him?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, I want to see him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (gets up and steps up to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Excuse me, Paul! I am really not in the frame of mind.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. As you think best.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You know very well that I spare +myself the sight of the dead, whenever I can. I did not even see <i>my</i> +father.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has risen). I'll go with +you, my boy, brace up!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (nods to her, choking down his +words). I'm all right. (The two slowly go out at the right.) [Short silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (stands at the chair, clenches +her fist, stamps her foot, in a burst of passion). I cannot look at the man who +has forbidden me his house! Never!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has also risen, steps up to <span class="sc"> +Hella</span>). How I admired you, madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (still struggling). I cannot +bring myself to <i>that</i>!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (sentimentally). How you sat +there! How you spoke! Every word a blow! No evasion! No retreat! Mind triumphing +over matter! The first time I ever had this impression of you, Hella, do you +recall, the large meeting when you stood on the stage and your eye controlled +thousands? Then and there my soul rushed out to you! Now you possess it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (stands erect, resolutely and +deliberately). If I really possess your soul, dear doctor, listen to my request.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I am your slave, command +me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It concerns Paul. You see how +matters stand with him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (gloomily). Paul is not a +modern man. I knew that long ago.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Let us avoid all digressions +now! (With unflinching emphasis.) Paul <i>must</i> ... <i>not</i> ... <i>remain +here</i>! Do you understand?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. What can I do in the +matter?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (taps her finger on his chest). +You must help me get him away from here as soon as possible!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. And you would ask <i>me</i> +to do <i>that</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why shouldn't I?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Expect me to help +reestablish the bond between you? Don't be inhuman, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. But you surely realize the +relations that obtain between you and me, doctor. You are my co-worker, my +friend!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Is that all, Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, do you demand more? Beyond +friendship I can give you nothing! No, it will be better for you to help me plan +how we can get him away most readily. Rather today than tomorrow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Even if I were willing; why +he pays no attention to me. Sometimes he strikes the pose of the man of thirty +and treats me like a schoolboy. If it were not for you, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (goes back and forth in intense +excitement). I see it coming! I see it coming! Irresistible! I have been +watching it for a year. Something is working on him. The old spirits have been +revived in him. They are restless to assert themselves. That calls for prompt +action. He must not remain here. He must absolutely not remain in this +atmosphere, which unsettles the mind, this funereal atmosphere. Oh! I can't +stand it! Come on, doctor, I must have some fresh air! Get my things!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I am on the wing! (About to +start in some direction or other.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (restrains him). But no, wait a +moment! We can go right through our rooms. A door leads to the garden from +there. (She listens.) Isn't that Paul, now? Do you hear?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. It seems to be.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (hurriedly). Quickly! I do not +care to see him now! I don't want to hear about the dead man. I can't endure it. +Do hurry! (She draws him along out toward the left.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Paul</span> and <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> +come in again from the right. <span class="sc">Paul</span> walks slowly through +the hall with his head bowed. For a moment he remains standing before the chair +near the sofa, then suddenly sits down and presses his face into his hands. <span class="sc"> +Aunt Clara</span> has slowly followed him, stands before him, and looks at him +lovingly and sadly. Brief silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (puts her hand on his head). +Compose yourself, Paul! What's the good of it! Your father is past all trouble.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (without raising his head). Yes, +he's beyond it all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. All of us may be glad when +we are that far along.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (between his teeth). When we are +that far along, yes, yes, Aunt Clara! When we are all through with it, this +incomprehensible, senseless force! (He leans back in the chair and folds his +hands over his head.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Your dead father enjoys the +best lot after all. It's not at all an occasion for weeping, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (nods his head mechanically). You +caught the meaning, Auntie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I am old, my boy. I know +what is back of life. Nothing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You have caught the meaning.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. When you are as far along +as I am, you will think so too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (throws his head back on his +chair, yielding to his pain). I am tired, Aunt Clara! Tired enough to die!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. That is due to the journey, +Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (repeats mechanically). That is +due to the journey. (Waking up.) You are right, Aunt Clara. To the long journey +and the long, long way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Now you will take a rest, +my boy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That's what I should like to do, +Aunt Clara. Take a real rest after all of the wild years! And they do say the +best rest is to be found at home.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Do you see how good it is +for you to be at home again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (absorbed). How calmly he lay +there. How great and serene! Not the vestige of a doubt left! Everything +overcome. All the questions solved!... (Lamenting.) Father, father, if I were +only in your place! (He presses his head in his hands.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (worried). Paul, what's the +matter!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Nothing, Aunt Clara, it's over +now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. No, no, my boy, there's +something wrong with you. You needn't tell me. I know well enough.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controlling himself). You know +nothing at all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And you can't talk me out +of it. It's your wife. What I know, I know. Your wife is to blame! And if you <i> +do</i> say no ten times over!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gets up, with a firm voice). I +repeat, Aunt Clara, you know nothing about it! I do not want to hear one word +about that, please remember. (With marked emphasis.) I do not want to hear of +it! (Walks up and down in excitement.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Paul, Paul, if you had only +taken Antonie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sits down in the chair at the +fireplace, restraining his pain). Be quiet, Aunt Clara!... Do you want to make +me even more miserable than I am?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (gets up, steps up to him +and lays her hand on his head). My poor, poor boy!</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT II</h2> + +<p class="hang1">The forenoon of the following day. The gloomy light of a winter +day comes in through the wide windows at the background of the hall, as on the +day before. Outside, white bushes and trees loom up vaguely. A dark velvet cover +is spread over the sofa table now. A fire again biases in the fireplace.</p> + +<p class="hang1">In front of it on the left sits <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> +with his feet toward the fire and a book in his hand. He is again faultlessly +clad in a black suit; looks pale. At his right, in the center chair <span class="sc"> +Hella</span> reposes comfortably. She likewise holds a book and looks as if she +had been reading. As on the previous day, her dress is dark, but not black.</p> + +<br> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. These awful visits of condolence +all day yesterday! If calls of that kind continue today, I'll simply lock myself +in and fail to appear. Let Paul settle it as he may.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. And yet! How easily and +graciously you can dispose of the good people. I can't get over my astonishment.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes and then to feign a sadness +that one does not remotely feel, cannot feel! What an idea!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (after a moment of +reflection, whispering). Do you know what makes me glad?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (curtly). No, possibly you will +tell me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (halts a bit). That the dead +man is out of the house!... I suppose they took him to the church?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, quite early this morning. +The coffin is to be there till tomorrow. I suppose you were afraid?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>, Why you know that I +sometimes see things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You modern creature, you! Look +at me! I <i>try</i> to see <i>things</i> by daylight. I can battle with <i>them</i>! +Not with the other kind.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Oh you don't realize how I +have envied you for that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why don't you follow my example +then? Do not lose yourself deeper and deeper in your riddles. Enter the +conflict! Just as I do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. You, Hella +...! I cannot vie with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Don't be a weakling! Try it! You +are old enough.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (grumbling). <i>Too</i> old.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (more and more impassioned). Too +old! Ridiculous. When Paul was of your age he was already in the fray, founding +our <i>Women's Rights</i>. And I, I helped him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. You must have been of +firmer fiber than we of the younger generation.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (gets up, stands up straight, +folds her hands over her head). Possibly! I was scarcely twenty at the time, but +I felt strong enough to throw down the gauntlet to the whole world, when it was +a question of my rights. I had an uncontrollable thirst for freedom, and it is +not too much to assert that I gave Paul the incentive for all that followed.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. That's just like you, +Hella! I suppose he would simply have remained in his old trot if it had not +been for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (supporting herself on the +chair). I should not go that far. He had already freed himself, but did not know +in what direction to move. He was still groping. He might have followed an +utterly wrong course, might have fooled away his time with literature and +impractical things like that. His rescue from all that was my work. I guided +him! You know he was a pupil of my father. When we became acquainted, I had no +difficulty in showering things upon him. You see I had spent my whole childhood +in this intellectual atmosphere. And he ... well, you can see from where he had +come. (She sweeps her hand around.) That is just why I was ahead of him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (lamenting). Why was I not +born ten years earlier? Then I should have found what he now has and fails to +value!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (walks through the hall slowly, +engrossed in memories). Yes it was a joyous time! All of us young, vigorous and +certain of victory! (Her manner becomes gloomy.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has followed her with his +eyes). Are you so no longer, Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (morosely). I?... (Collects +herself.) More than ever ... But I have become tired, Doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (subdued). I do suppose it +requires more than mortal strength to hold out, in this fashion, a whole life +long.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (straightening up). Yes, if one +did not know that he is going to prevail, that he will carry out his demands; +one can rest assured only when he has the better arguments in his favor. Not +until then. (She steps to the background in great excitement.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (jumps up). Hella! Hella!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (comes back again). Not an hour +before that, I tell you. Do you understand the terrible aspect of my present +position now? My nails fairly tingle. Whenever I hear the clock strike out +there, something seems to drive me away. Another hour gone, and life is so +short. It cries within me, go to your post, and I am forced to remain! I must +remain on account of Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (strikes his fist on the +chair). Oh he doesn't deserve to have you sacrifice yourself for him! If you +called me in this manner ... I should follow you to the scaffold!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (approaches him, in a changed +manner). What was your impression of Paul today, Doctor? Be frank!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (gloomily). Why do you ask <i> +me</i> about that? I scarcely caught sight of him before he rode away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It seemed to me that he was more +cheerful, freer. (To herself.) Possibly because the body was out of the house. +(She turns away again.)</p> + +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> steps to the background, +shaking his head, seems in a quandary.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has paid no attention to him, +since her thoughts completely dominate her, speaks as if to herself). May be all +will turn out for the best after all. (She gains control of herself and looks +up.) Where in the world are you, Doctor? (She approaches him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (stands at the window and +looks into the garden). I am watching the snow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I suppose you are surprised that +I am hopeful again?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Since I have been in your +company nothing surprises me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (continues). But Paul must listen +to reason. My position is clearly correct. You do not know him as I do. Paul is +tender-hearted; all that is necessary is to know how to deal with him. (She +reflects a moment and concludes.) Possibly I did not always know how to do that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (deprecatingly). Don't +belittle yourself, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. And there shall be a change. But +first of all he must get away from here. Of course we shall have to wait till +after the funeral. But then I shall not allow myself to be kept here any longer. +I'll get in and ride away and Paul will be forced to come along. When I once +have him in Berlin again ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. And the estate?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I'll simply sell that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (rushes up to her with +flaming eyes). Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (coldly). Well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Are you going to leave +Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. How so? What is the matter with +you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (seizes her hand). Can't you +leave Paul! My life is at stake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Dear friend, don't stake your +life so foolishly! And release my hand. I do not want to leave Paul! I haven't +the slightest reason to do so. We agree very well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (drops his head). Then I was +mistaken, after all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, it seems so to me also. You +simply do not know what Paul has been to me. [Pause.] I want to go to work, I +still have much to do. The editorial work is crowding. (Takes several steps.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (enters from the right, clad in a +riding suit and riding boots, shakes of the snow and waves his hat vigorously as +he speaks). Good morning, you stay-at-homes! Just see how I look.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has turned around at his +approach and looks at him). You are bringing winter in with you, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with dash). That's what I'm +doing. I'm bringing winter in with me. Regular country winter, with ice and +snow, such as the city knows only by hearsay. Don't you envy me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (surprised). How so? For what?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. For what, she asks! Why for all +the snow in which I have been stamping about! For this honest winter mood, that +I have not had for so many years!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Where in the world have you +been!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sits down, facing the fire, and +crosses his legs). Far, far away, I can tell you.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> has risen from his chair +and has slowly walked over toward the left, where he sits down on the sofa and +pretends to become interested in a book.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. One can tell that. You are in a +beautiful condition.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stares into the fire, spinning +away at his thoughts). I rode a great, great distance!... To the border of our +possessions!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Is that so very far?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Very far!... At least it seemed +so to me when I was a child.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, of course, to a child +everything seems larger.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But this time it was no delusion! +It was really quite a distance. And I did remain away long enough too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (sarcastically). Are you not +boasting, Paul? I believe you were riding around in a circle.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (waking up). And so I did. Criss +cross over the fields, taking ditches, helter skelter as it were, right through +the dense snow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (as before). <i>Can</i> you +really ride, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I? Well, I should say! I supposed +I had forgotten how, during all of these empty years, but when I had mounted, +for a moment I was unsteady, but only for a moment, then I felt my old power. +The bay realized that I still know how, and off we were like destruction itself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (from the sofa). I should +like to try it myself sometime.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (without heeding him). And +curiously enough Hella, strange as the way had naturally become to me, I +nevertheless got along easily. After all, one does not forget the things with +which one has once been familiar, and, you see, my father took me with him often +enough in my boyhood. (Smiling.) Possibly in order that, some day in the future, +I might get my bearings in the old fields! At last I got into the forest and +when I was out of that, I saw the houses of Klonowken, all covered with snow ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has listened very attentively, +interrupts). Klonowken, you say! Isn't that the estate where—what is his +name?—your relative lives?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. <span class="sc">Laskowski</span>, +you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Quite right, <span class="sc"> +Laskowski</span> ... But you did not call on him, did you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. No, then I came back.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. The ride has certainly agreed +with you. Your color is much better than yesterday.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (joyously). <i>Is</i> it?... Well +that is just the way I feel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Then you can see more clearly +today, what you wish to do and what is necessary?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Much more clearly, Hella! As I +trotted along in the snowstorm, many things dawned upon me. My head has became +clear, Hella.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I am glad for you and both of +us!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (seizes her hand). Yes, for both +of us. We must come to an agreement, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (cautiously). I hope we are +agreed. And, moreover, you know how we can remain so!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (thoughtful again). Well, as I +rode along, strange! So many years of desk work, I thought to myself, and +nothing but desk work. My bones have almost become stiff as a result and, after +all, what has come of it? Little enough! You surely must admit that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (seriously). I can <i>not</i> +admit that, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But we do live in a continual +turmoil, Hella, in an everlasting struggle the outcome of which we can not +foresee and <i>from</i> which we shall reap no rewards. We are working for +strangers, are sacrificing our best years and have forgotten to consider +ourselves. Do you suppose they will thank us some day when we are down and out? +Not a soul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Nor do I demand gratitude and +recognition. I do what I have recognized to be correct; that constitutes my +happiness.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But not mine. I want more, Hella! +I am at an age when fine words no longer avail me. And see, here is a world in +which I have what I need, what I am seeking, here at last I can follow myself +up, can see what is really in me and not what has merely been imposed upon me. I +am on the crest of my life, Hella. Possibly past it. Do not take it amiss! I +need rest, composure ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (reserved). And for that you are +going to the end of the world?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I had got to the end of the +world! Now I shall begin all over again. Would the attempt not be worth while? +Tell me, comrade! (He seizes both of <span class="sc">Hella's</span> hands and +looks squarely into her eyes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (reserved). I can't answer you +now, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (visibly relieved). Very well! If +you can not at present ... There is plenty of time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Isn't there? You will give me +time. I should like to put it off only a few days longer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (joyously). Why as long as you +please. Till then I shall be assured of you and meanwhile you will get +acclimated?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Only a few days, Paul. Possibly +I can make a definite proposition to you by that time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shakes her hands again, happy). +Hella, my clever, unusual Hella! (He puts his arms around her waist, about to +kiss her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with quick resistance). What are +you doing, Paul! Don't you see how wet you are?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Snow-water! Clear snow-water. +What harm will that do! Give me a kiss, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (reluctantly). You <i>do</i> have +notions at times!... So here is your kiss! (Extends her cheek to him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embraces her.) Oh, no! Today I +must have something unusual! (He tries to kiss her mouth.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (warding him off). Do stop that, +Paul! I beg you urgently!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks into her eyes). But why +not, Hella! Just for today ...! (His voice is soft and pleading.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with her face toward the sofa). +Why Glyszinski is sitting there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (impatiently). What is Glyszinski +to me? It's <i>surely</i> all right for a husband and wife to kiss each other.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. But not before strangers! I +can't bear that, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). Calm down! It never +happens anyhow! (He releases her and walks through the hall with great strides).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (shrugging her shoulders). +Because it is really not proper for two people who are as old as we have become. +People should become sensible sometime.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with increasing excitement). You +always were! Why, I don't know you any other way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You must have liked it well +enough.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bursting out). Yes I probably did +...! At that time! Because I was a fool!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (picks up her book again, turns +as if to go away). Now you are becoming abusive! Good-by, I have work to do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (intercepts her). Hella! I am +coming to you with an overflowing heart! I have a yearning to be alone with you, +once, only once; I am almost desperate for a heart to heart talk ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (who has silently followed +the scene from the sofa, presumably engrossed in his book, but at times has cast +over a furtive glance, makes a motion as if to rise). If I'm disturbing you, you +only need to say so ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Do not be funny, doctor. You do +know that I wanted to go to my room some time ago. Please let me pass, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has retreated, with an angry +bow). You have plenty of room! (Across to <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>) +Hella is quite right. There is no longer any occasion for you to go. (He goes to +the fireplace and sits down facing the fire.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (remains in the centre of the +hall a few moments longer, then takes a step in the direction of <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>, and speaks in a changed, gentler voice). Paul! (<span class="sc">Paul</span> +does not stir).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (urgently). Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That's all right!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Oh, is it! Very well! (She turns +away abruptly, goes over toward the right, opens the door and turns around, +saying curtly). I wish to work, so please do not disturb me. (She goes out.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has become restless, gets up and +calls). Hella! (One can hear how the door is being locked on the other side.) As +you please, then! (He sits down again).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (looking up from his book). +Hella has locked the door.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Paul</span> sets his teeth and is silent. +Pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Am I disturbing you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (without turning around). I have +already told you, +<i>no</i>! Not any longer, now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. So I <i>have</i> been +disturbing you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I'll leave that to <i>you</i>.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. You would like to have me +go away?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Dear Glyszinski, <i>don't</i> ask +such stupid questions!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Well, I <i>should</i> have +gone long ago ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (cutting). Indeed?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I can see very well how +irksome I am to you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You are not at all irksome, dear +Glyszinski, neither now nor formerly. You are only funny.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. You two admitted me to your +household.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Excuse me! <i>Hella</i> admitted +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. That is what I was going to +say. Upon Hella's express invitation ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Correct.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Indeed I may say upon her +wish ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Also correct.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I came into your house.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That was very kind of you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. And so I can leave it only +upon her invitation. Not before! I should be offending Hella, and that I cannot +take upon myself. I revere her too much for that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (cutting). Sensitive soul that you +are!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Of course my views may not +agree with all the conventional rules of society, but there are still other, +higher duties.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (amused). And <i>you</i> honor +them?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (casting a piercing look at <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Yes, it is my duty to protect Hella.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Protect Hella?... (He gets up.) +Do you know! One is impelled to feel sorry for you! (He turns away and walks +through the hall.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Well!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, you have no idea how far you +are off the track. That's the reason.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Thanks for your sympathy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You are badly off the track, and +will hardly get on again, unless you are warned in time. Whether or not that +will do you any good, is your affair.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (agitated). But what does +all of this mean? I don't understand you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (very seriously). In a word, that +means: look out for women who are like Hella! Look out for that ilk! That tells +the whole story! The whole story!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (jumps up). And you expect +me to follow that advice?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do not follow it, but don't be +surprised later on if you find yourself in the position in which I am today. It +has taken me ten to twelve years to arrive at it. Half of that time will suffice +for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Why that is sheer nonsense! +Your position is estimable enough.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I am a bankrupt! That's all!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (greatly excited). +Imagination, pure imagination! You have your position! You have a name in the +movement!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). Oh yes! This movement!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I wish I were that far +along!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Possibly you are, without knowing +it. But as for myself, when I was of your age and began to fly the track, the +aforesaid <i>track</i>, I was quite another fellow! Today as I rode through the +snow knee-deep, that became quite clear to me! I saw myself as I had been once +upon a time and then realized what had later become of me! All the strength! All +the life! All the color! All lost! All gone!... Colorless and commonplace! That +is the outcome! (He sinks down in complete collapse.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (very uncomfortably). And +you blame Hella for all that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (a pen behind her ear, puts in +her head and calls). Glyszinski! Doctor! Why don't you come in! I want you to +help me write a number of letters. I shall dictate to you. (Withdraws again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (with precipitation). +Immediately, madam. (He runs to the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (raising his finger). You have +been warned!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (already at the door on the +right). Some other time! I have no time now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"> [Goes off, the door closes again and is bolted on the +other side.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks after him, then, after a +pause). He is going the same course! (Takes a few steps through the hall, +remains standing before the portraits on the wall, looks up at them for a long +while, breathes deeply and says, only just audibly): The Warkentins bring no +luck!... And they <i>have</i> no luck!...</p> +<p class="hang2">[He steps across to the spinet which is open, sits down, and +softly strikes a number of chords. <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> comes in +quickly from the right, looks around.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sitting at the spinet). Well, +Aunt Clara? (He lowers his hands from the keys.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (cautiously). It is well +that you are here, my boy! (She approaches.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (absent-minded). Is there +anything?...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (shaking her head). Why a +person can't talk to your wife. And that young man ... There's something about +him too. Where in the world are the two now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (feigning indifference). There, in +the other room, Aunt Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Do you suppose she will +hear us?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh no, Auntie! They are in the +green room. The sun-parlor lies between. And then ... when Hella is working, she +doesn't hear anyhow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Those two! I do say! They +just have to stay together the whole day! But I was going to say ... Laskowskis +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. What about Laskowski?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Wonder whether we ought to +send them an announcement?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I don't care! Although I do not +exactly consider it necessary.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Just on account of the +wife.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Whose wife?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Well, Mrs. Laskowski. Why, +don't you know?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns around). Not a thing! Is +Laskowski married?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, Paul! Didn't he marry +Antonie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (recoils). Antoinette ...? Our +Antoinette? And I am just finding out about that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Well, I didn't know whether +you cared to hear anything about Antonie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (approaches her and speaks to her +in an interested manner). Why, Auntie, one <i>is</i> interested in the people +who were once near and dear.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Then, you didn't ask about +her yesterday!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Goodness, Aunt Clara! I didn't <i> +want</i> to ask!... After all, I'm finding out soon enough!... Poor +Antoinette!... Wasn't she able to find any one else?...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. You had been gone a year +and a half, Paul, and then they got married.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (depressed). Well, well ...! That +long ago? Then it has really ceased to be news! How <i>does</i> she look? +(Bitterly.) I suppose quite ...? (He makes a significant derogatory gesture.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Don't say that, Paul! She +can vie with the youngest and most beautiful of them! She is in her very prime +now! Just set her over against your wife!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embarrassed). Well, well! Hella +is not exactly obliged to conceal herself, it seems to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (eagerly). But oh, you +should see Mrs. Laskowski!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (crabbed). Well, then old +Laskowski may thank his stars. How in all the world did Antoinette run into that +fellow? I could never +<i>bear</i> him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Have you forgotten <i>every</i> +thing Paul? Why, he was forever after her, even when you were still here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why, he is the greatest crook on +God's green earth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. At first Antonie didn't +care a thing in the world for him, but later she took him just the same, when it +was all over with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (disdainfully). Of course he had +his eye on her estate, the sly rogue! I'd vouch for that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (gleefully). Her estate, +Grosz-Rukkoschin, went to him right at her marriage. You know that belongs to +her from her father's side. +<i>You</i> might have that now, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (interested). Well, and how do the +two get along? He and Antoinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (shrugging her shoulders). +Oh, Paul, what do I know about it? They have no children.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (relieved). They haven't any +children either? Well!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. They did have one, a girl! +But they lost her.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Lost her ... Well, well!... Hm! +Antoinette!... Antoinette Rousselle as Mrs. von Laskowski!... Could I have +dreamed such a thing when I was a sophomore with old Heliodor! (He shakes his +head, burdened with memories, then with a sudden change.) Well, of course, we +shall send the Laskowskis an announcement. We'll attend to that at once! (Starts +to go.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (holds him by the arm). +Never mind, Paul! I <i>have</i> sent it. Yesterday. I was certain it would be +all right with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (forced to smile). Well, what do +you think of Aunt Clara!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. It's only on account of the +neighbors. Now that you are here and they live right next to us, if we should +not even invite them to the funeral....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (absent-minded). Yes, yes, quite +right!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (searchingly). For you'll +have to observe a bit of neighborliness with the estate-owners around here, my +boy ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (warding off). Oh, Aunt Clara, +here's the same old question again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Now really, Paul, don't you +know yet what you are going to do, whether you intend to remain?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (very seriously). Aunt Clara! I +shall <i>never</i> be able to induce Hella. That is becoming clearer and clearer +to me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (bolt upright). If Ellernhof +is sold, I shall not survive it! I have been here thirty-three years! I have +carried you all in my arms, you and your brothers and sisters. All of the rest +are dead. You are still here, Paul. I closed your mother's eyes for her. I +witnessed the death of your father. In all of my days I have known only +Ellernhof. At the cemetery I've selected a place for myself where all of them +are lying. Shall I go away now at the very end? At least, wait until I am dead!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (passionately). Don't make it so +desperately hard for me, Aunt Clara!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (looking at the walls). Here +they all hang on the walls, those who were once active here ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (follows her eyes). Do you hear? +The door-bell. (The door-hell rings.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Callers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Callers! Again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Probably to express their +condolences.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (impatiently). Just at the most +inopportune moment!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (listening). I shouldn't be +surprised if the Laskowskis were coming!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (giving a start). Antoinette ...? +Why, that ...! And I in my riding boots! Do see who it is!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, of course it is! I can +hear him from here ... Shall I bring them in, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, Can't we take them somewhere +else?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Where, pray tell? (She goes +to the door on the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (goes to the door on the left, +knocks). Hella, open the door! I want to change my clothes. There are callers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, never mind, you are +all right!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns away, resigned to his +fate). It wouldn't do any good anyhow. Hella does not hear me. Go ahead then! +Bring them right along. [<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> opens the door at +the right and goes out. Conversation outside becomes audible.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (also comes over to the right, +seems to be in great agitation, controls himself nervously, steps upon the +threshold at the right and addresses those about to enter). <i>This way, if you +please.</i> (He steps aside for <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> and <span class="sc"> +Laskowski</span>, and makes a short bow). We are very glad to see you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (seizes both of his hands and +shakes them a number of times). Glad to see you, old chap! Think of seeing you +again. (He and +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> have taken off their wraps outside. He wears +a black morning coat and black gloves.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (reserved). Unfortunately on a sad +occasion!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (in a black gown, simple but +elegant). Be assured of our heartfelt sympathy, doctor! (She extends the tips of +her fingers to him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (somewhat formally). Thank you +very much, madam! (His eyes are fastened upon her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (is the last to enter. She +closes the door behind her). Will you not be seated? Antonie, please take the +sofa!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes indeed, madam, please! Or +would you prefer to sit at the fire? You have been riding.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Thank you! I am quite warm. +I'll sit down here. (She sits down on the sofa and lets her eyes roam about.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Think of my wife sitting at +the fire! It would have to come to a pretty pass! One who knocks about in the +open all day long, like her! (He sits down on the chair to the left of the +sofa.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (under a spell). Do you do that, +madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Just as it comes! A little +horseback, skating ... Whatever winter pastimes there may be!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (who is still standing at his +chair). And in summer?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Oh, in summer something else +is doing again! Then there is rowing, fishing and swimming to beat the band!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Fortunately we have the +lake right near our place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has been speaking privately to <span class="sc"> +Aunt Clara</span>). Very well, Auntie, bring us that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Don't go to any trouble, +Miss Clara. We can't stay long.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (winks). Well, well, we'll +remain a bit longer. I'll still have to go to the inn to take a look at that +gelding.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (beckons to his aunt). So bring it +along!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Very well, boysie, I'm +going. (Goes off at the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sits down in the chair opposite +the sofa and becomes absent-minded again). So you have a lake? Where is it? +Surely not at Klonowken?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. If we only did have that at +Klonowken! We have nothing at all there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (joining in with laughter). +Heaven knows! The fox and the wolf do the social stunt there!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. The lake is at Rukkoschin.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (informing him). That is the +estate that my dearie brought to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (abruptly). Yes, yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (laughing). That's a +different layout from the sandy blowouts of Klonowken! Prime soil! And a forest, +I tell you, cousin! Over two thousand acres! One trunk as fine as another! Each +one fit for a ship's mast! If I ever have them cut down! That will put grease +into the pan! Yes, yes, Rukkoschin is a catch that's worth while. We did a good +job of that, didn't we, dearie? (He laughs at <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> +slyly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I suppose, dear Laskowski, that +no one has ever doubted your slyness.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (strikes his shoulder). Do +you see, Doc, now you say so yourself, and at school you gave me the laugh. That +fool Laskowski, so you thought, he'll never get beyond pounding sand in a +rat-hole. Have I come up a bit in your eyes? How's that, old boy? Shake hands. +Pretty damned long since we have met! (He extends his hand to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>, who does not seem to notice it.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (who has been biting her +lips and looking into space during the words of her husband, suddenly +interrupts). We received the announcement this morning, Mr. Warkentin. We thank +you very much.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (reserved). It was no more than +our duty, madam.</p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Yes, we were very glad, my +wife and I ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (quickly). Not to be +forgotten!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. You hit the nail on the +head, that's what you did, dearie! +<i>You</i> go on and talk. A fellow like myself isn't so handy with his tongue! +But he feels it just the same!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (grimly). Rather sudden, was it +not, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. The best thing that one can +wish for!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you think so? I don't know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Of course. Heart failure's +the thing to have!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. It grieved me very much.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You see, he was my +guardian.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I know it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Of course we had not seen +each other for some time ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Goodness, dearie, that's the +way it goes sometimes! This fellow's busy and then that fellow's busy ... It's +not like in the city. But everybody knows how you feel about it, just the same. +And then if you do meet in the city, or at the stockyards, or somewhere else, +the jollification is twice as big. Just lately I met your father in just that +way. It's not been four weeks. Met him at the station just as I was going to +town. And the old gent crossed my path and acted as if he didn't see me. It was +right at the ticket window. Of course, I called him! Good morning, major, says +I! Howdy? Chipper, and up and coming as ever? Oh, says he, not particularly! +Those very words! I can still see him as he stood there!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (incredulously). Why you +didn't tell me a thing about that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Guess I forgot to. Who'd +think it would be the last time. When I heard that he was dead, day before +yesterday, it came to me again. Then we rode in the same compartment and he kept +telling me a lot about you, Doc.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (sarcastically). Really?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. He was pretty much bothered, +what would become of the place, when he'd be dead and gone ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You don't say!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. On my honor, Doc.! Expect me +to fib to you. Of course I talked him out of it, and told him not to bother +about it. First of all that it wasn't up to him yet, and if it was, <i>I</i> was +still in the ring.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Very kind of you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. With all my heart! You and +me, Doc., h'm? We understand each other! We'll come to terms all right. Old +chap! Old crony! How tickled I am to see you right here before me again! How +often I have said if Paul was only here now. Didn't I, dearie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gesture of impatience). +Yes, yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Well, what have you been +doing all this time, Doc.?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. All kinds of things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Regular old Socrates. It +makes a fellow's wheels buzz to think of what he's got in his head all the time! +Do you remember, old chap, how you used to help me out when we were juniors?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Sophomores, dear Laskowski! You +failed to make junior standing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (strikes his fist on the +table, in great glee). Damn it all! Did you remember that? I see, old chap, that +a fellow has to be on his guard with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with a determined look). If you +think ...</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_160" href="#pixRef_160"><img src="images/pg160.png" alt="Mother_Earth"></a></p> +<p class="center">MOTHER EARTH</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. These fellows from Berlin. +They are up to snuff! That's the place! If they ever come out into the country, +look out, boys. They'll not leave a shirt on your back! Guess you made a good +deal of spondulics in Berlin, didn't you, Doc.? (He goes through with the +gesture of counting money.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (cutting). Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Goodness, a fellow will ask +about that. You don't need it, of course. Ellernhof is worth sixty, seventy +thousand dollars any day, and a fellow can live off of that. If you can only +find a buyer ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I haven't the least desire, dear +Laskowski.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. It's a hard thing too, +now-a-days. Buyers are scarce and times are hard for the farmer.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> comes from the right, +carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and glasses.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You have gone to all this +trouble, after all, Miss Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Not at all worth +mentioning! (Sets the things on the table.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (examines the wine-bottle). +Why, what have you brought here, Miss?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You drink port, don't you, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (affectionately). If you +don't care for it, dearie, I drink for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You <i>may</i> pour me one +glass. (She holds out her glass, which <span class="sc">Paul</span> fills.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> You're sure it won't hurt +you, dearie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Why should it? I drink on +other occasions.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Because you are always +getting a headache.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (looks at him). I?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Now don't get mad right off! +Can't a fellow crack a joke? Don't you see that it's a joke? Drink ahead, +dearie! I'm drinking too. And then I must be going too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (who has filled all the glasses). +Must you; where?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (raises his glass and empties +it). Of a forenoon, there's nothing up to a glass of port.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why don't you drink, Aunt Clara! +(He also drinks.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Oh, I don't care much for +wine, my boy, as you may remember. (She sips a little.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). Well, did you like it, dearie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. May I give you some more, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No, thank you. It would go +to my head.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (pushes his glass over). I'll +take another glass. Then I must be going. (Looks at his watch.) It's a quarter +of eleven.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (fills it). What else have you in +mind?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Well, since it just fits in, +we being here today, I just want to go over to the inn. They've advertised a +gelding there. Take a look at him. If he can be had cheap ... Haven't put one +over on anybody for some time! (He laughs, empties the glass and holds it up +before him.) Your old gent did invest in a cellar! There ain't a thing, Doc., +that I envy you as much as that cellar! (He gets up.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I shall wait till you return. Come back +soon!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. On the spot, dearie. I'll +only take a vertical whisky over at the inn! Good-by, dearie! Good-by, Doc.! (He +goes out at the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (has also risen, with a sly +look). Mercy, my dinner! You can't depend upon these girls! First thing, it'll +be burned. (She hastens out at the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Did you not bring Mrs. +Warkentin with you, Doctor?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (nervously). Yes, Auntie, please +tell Lene to go around and tell my wife we have callers. This door is locked. +She cannot get through here. (He has risen and walked over to the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (going out). Very well, +Paul, I shall see to it.</p> +<p class="hang2">[Goes off. Pause. <span class="sc">Paul</span> stands at the +fireplace and stares into the fire. <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> has +leaned back on the sofa and is gazing into space.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with an effort). You are not +cold, are you, madam? Or I will put on some more wood.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (without stirring). Not on +my account! I am accustomed to the cold.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (forced). Strange! As <i>hardened</i> +as all that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Completely!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (takes a step toward her). +Antoinette ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (motionless). Doctor?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (painfully). Once my name was +Paul. Don't you remember?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I have forgotten it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controls himself). Well then, +madam, may I speak to you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Will you not call your +wife?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. May I not speak to you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I don't know what you could have to say.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Something that concerns only you +and me and not another soul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gets up). I do not <i>care</i> +to hear it. (Takes a few steps into the hall.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (seizes her hand). Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (frees herself). Don't!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then why have you come?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Don't, I tell you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then why have you come, I ask of +you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (stands with her back to +him, blurts out). They fairly dragged me here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. So you did not come of your own +accord?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No!... I should never have +come!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Antoinette ... Is that the truth?</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> presses her hand to her +face and is silent.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with bowed head). Then to be sure +...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Why in the world doesn't +your wife come in? (She walks toward the window.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Very well! Let her come! (He +bites his lips and turns away.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (appears in the door at the left). +Mr. Warkentin ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (startled). What is it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Mrs. Warkentin says that she has +no time now, she'll come directly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Very well!... You may go!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Thank you, Mr. Warkentin! (She +casts a glance at the two and goes out. Short pause.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with grim humor). As you see, it +is not to be, madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (stands at the window with +her back toward the hall). It would seem so. (Presses her face against the +panes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (walks to and fro, then approaches +her). I have had to endure much, Antoinette, very much!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (suppressed). Possibly I +have too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why, Antoinette, you are weeping? +(He stands behind her and tries to look into her face.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (wards him off). I? Not at +all!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (heavily). You are weeping, +Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sinks down). I can't help +it. (She surrenders to her pain, but quietly and softly, making her appear all +the more touching.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (kindly). Come, madam! Let me +conduct you to the sofa. (About to take her arm.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (refusing). I can go alone. +Why do you concern yourself about me at all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Antoinette! Don't be stubborn at +this moment! Our time is short. Who knows whether we shall ever speak to each +other again as we now do. (He leads her forward a short distance.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. All the better!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Our time is awfully short. <i>I +cannot</i> let you go away so! We must make use of the moment! (Bitterly.) The +moment that will possibly never return. (He has slowly led her to the front of +the stage.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (frees herself violently). +Do permit me to go by myself! I do not need you! I need no one!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). Very well! I shall not +molest you! As you please!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sits down in the chair at +the left of the sofa, seems composed again). You see I am quite calm. It was +only a temporary indisposition.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (coaxing). May I sit down near +you, Antoinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. What have you to say to me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (sits down in the chair before +her, looks at her squarely, then, after a moment of devoted contemplation). I am +forced to look at you, Antoinette! Pardon me! I am forced to look at you again +and again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Do save up these +compliments for your wife, doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with growing excitement). No +compliments, Antoinette! The moment is too precious!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Then why don't you spare +yourself the trouble?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Didn't you feel it, the very +moment you came in, Antoinette; I could not keep away from you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Quite flattering!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Antoinette! Now you must listen +to me to the very end.</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Goodness! What do you expect of me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Or you should not have come!</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Why in the world <i>did</i> I do it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (fervently, but in an undertone). +Antoinette! You are so wonderful! More wonderful than I have ever seen you +before!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sarcastically). Oh, indeed +...! Possibly you are even sorry.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (straightens up, harshly). For +shame, madam. Such expressions are not suited to you! Leave them to others!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (passionately). Your own +fault! You have brought mo to this!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (painfully). You have become +unfeeling, Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I am simply no longer that +stupid little creature that you can wind around your finger as once upon a time. +Do you still remember that Christmas Eve, Doctor Warkentin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I remember it all, Antoinette. +Why on that evening my life was decided.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. So was mine. In this very +hall. I sat at this very place and you before me as now. There is such a thing +as providence. I have always believed in that! But now I see it with my own +eyes. God in heaven will not be mocked! On my knees I have prayed to him ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (frightened). Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (furiously). On my knees I +prayed for him to punish you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Toinette, you are mad! What awful +injury did I inflict upon you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (Scornfully). You upon me? +Oh, none at all! Did you know about me at all? You scorned me! What, that stupid +little thing wants me, the great man! Who am I and what is she! Off with her.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Toinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (filled with hatred). Yes, +off with her. And I did throw myself away! I knew all the time it would spell +misfortune for me if I married this ... this man.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (starts up). Is that the way +matters stand?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Yes, indeed, that's the way +they stand. I don't think of making a secret of it. The whole world knows it. It +is shouted from the house-tops!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (clenches his fists). The dog!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. It's easy for you to use +strong terms now. You hounded me into it! I owe it all to you. But one +consolation has remained for me. I have become unhappy. But so are you! And that +is why I have come.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (straightens up). What does this +mean, Antoinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Heavens! Simple enough! You +do take an interest in the woman that has been preferred to you. You would like +to make the acquaintance of such a marvel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (offended). You are malicious, +madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Not at all. I only wanted +to see, with my own eyes, how happy you are. But I am quite sufficiently +informed. One only needs to take a look at you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (painfully). Are you satisfied +now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (from the bottom of her +heart). Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Are you compelled to detest me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Do you expect me to thank you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (fervently). Does it really make +you happy to talk to me in this manner, Antoinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Happy or not, what I have +vowed before the altar, I shall not fail to keep.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (earnestly and sadly). I am the +last person to hinder you, Toinette! But I surely may look at you? Will you +forbid that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (struggling with herself). +Don't talk to me in this manner!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (excited). Just look into your +face, Antoinette, the few moments that remain! Stamp upon my mind how much I +have lost! Look into your eyes, just once more! Into your wonderful eyes!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (jumps up). Don't talk to me +in this manner, I say. I haven't deserved it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has also risen, seizes her hand). +Antoinette, I have found none of the things that I was seeking. I have been +miserably deceived! Are you satisfied now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"> [<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> sinks back into her +chair, begins to sob spasmodically.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (wildly). Why aren't you glad? (He +strides through the hall.)</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> chokes down her sobs.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (comes back again, bows down to +her). Weep, Antoinette! Weep! I wish I could. (He softly presses a kiss upon her +hair). [Silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (jumps up). I must go! Where +is my husband? I must have fresh air! My head! (She looks crazed.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (takes her arm). Yes, fresh air, +Toinette, there we shall feel less constraint. It is fine outside, the snow is +falling. Everything is white. Everything is old. Just as both of us have become, +Toinette.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (leaning on him). I am so +afraid! So terribly afraid!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (leading her to the door). You +will feel better. Snow is soothing. Come and I will tell you about my life. +Possibly you will forgive me then, Antoinette? (He looks at her imploringly and +extends his hand to her).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (hesitates a moment, then +opening her eyes widely she lays her hand in his). Possibly!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (happy). Thank you, Toinette! +Thank you!... And now come.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (on his arm, sadly). Where +shall we go?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. To the park, Toinette, to the +brook, do you remember, to the alders?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nods). To the alders, I +remember.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Out into the snow, to seek our +childhood.</p> +<p class="right">[He slowly leads her out at the right.]</p> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ACT III</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">The same hall as on the preceding days. The two corners in the +foreground, on the right the fireplace with its chairs, on the left the sofa and +other furniture are both separated from the centre and background of the hall by +means of a rectangular arrangement of oleanders in pots, thus affording two +separate cozy corners, between whose high borders of oleander a somewhat narrow +passage leads to the background. A banquet board in the form of a horseshoe, the +sides of which run to the rear and are hidden by the oleanders. The centre, +forming the head of the board, is plainly visible from the passage. It is almost +noon. Dim light, reflected from the snow outside, comes in through the middle +window of the back wall, a view of which is afforded through the opening in the +centre. The snowflakes flutter down drearily as on the previous day. The fire +now and then casts a red light upon the oleanders, which separate the space +surrounding the fireplace from the background. <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>, +in mourning as before, and <span class="sc">Lene</span>, also dressed in black, +are busy at the table, which has been set. They move to and fro arranging +plates, glasses and bottles. After a moment.</p> +<br> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (comes forward in the +direction of the passage, inspects the whole arrangement and speaks to <span class="sc"> +Lene</span> who is occupied in the background, where she cannot be seen). Are +all of the knives and forks properly arranged back there?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (not visible). Everything's in +order, Miss Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, then we are through.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. They can come right along now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I can't help but think that +it's time for the bell. (The old clock in the corridor outside begins to +strike.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (has come forward). It's striking +twelve.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. You're certain, are you, +that the roast is being basted properly?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Oh, Lizzie's looking after +things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The sermon seems to be +pretty long.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Oh, he can never find his finish. +Miss Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Let him talk, for all I +care! Only I might have put off the dinner.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (listens). Now the bell is +ringing. (Distant, indistinct tones of a church bell are heard.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (also listens). Yes, they +are ringing. Then it is over. (She folds her hands as if in prayer.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (timidly). Now the coffin's in the +ground, ain't it, Miss Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (murmurs). God grant him +eternal peace!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (also with hands folded). Amen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (continues murmuring). And +light everlasting shine for him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (as before). Amen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (partly to herself). I <i> +should</i> have been glad to pay him the last honor, but it <i>was</i> +impossible. What would have become of the roast? We shall see each other in the +next world anyhow. It will not be +<i>very</i> long!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (comforting her). Oh, Miss Clara.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (seizes her arm). Don't +stand there! Do your work! They will surely be here directly, (Counts the +places.) Six ... eight ... twelve ... sixteen ... eighteen ... twenty ... +twenty-two ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. That's the number. There are +eight sleighs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Go and open the door of the +green room!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (goes off to the left). What <i> +will</i> Mrs. Warkentin say to that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. <i>I</i> will attend to +that. It can't be helped today. We shall have to use the rooms for our coffee +later.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (returns). She'll make a nice +fuss!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Off with you now. They are +coming. Take the ladies and gentlemen into the front rooms until we have the +dinner on the table. Then you can go and call them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Very well, Miss Clara. (Quickly +off to the right.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[Short pause, during which <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> +stands listening. Then + <span class="sc">Hella</span> enters from the right, dressed in black.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with a quick glance to the left, +then to <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> who has retreated to the background). +What is the matter with my room? Why are the doors open?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The guests certainly must +have some place where they can relax a bit, later on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (nonplussed). In my rooms?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. They surely can't sit +around in this one place the whole afternoon. They must take their coffee <i> +some</i>where.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (from the left). Why I <i>do</i> +say ...! Really! All of my books are gone!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (indifferently). I put +things to rights a bit, madam. Why I +<i>couldn't</i> leave them as they were. I took the books upstairs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Upstairs! Very well, then that's +where <i>I</i> will go. (Starts out toward the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (enters and runs into <span class="sc"> +Hella</span>). Where are you going?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I am going upstairs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. <i>Where</i> are you going!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Upstairs. I <i>can't</i> find a +nook down <i>here</i> today where I might rest.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. So you really refuse to dine with +us?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (places her hand on his arm). +Spare me the agony, Paul! You know I can't endure so many strangers. It will +give me a headache.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Stay a short time at least! Show +that much consideration!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (retreats a step). Consideration +... No one shows <i>me</i> any consideration!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (pacing up and down). Nice mess, +when not even the nearest relatives ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, you are to be present.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But you must be present! I desire +it, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. And what if I simply <i>cannot</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (plants himself before her). Why +not?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Because I cannot. Because I hate +these feeds!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (more calmly). That is correct. So +do I! But what can we do about it? It <i>is</i> the custom.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Custom, Paul, custom!... Have we +founded our life upon old customs?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embittered). If we only had!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (looks at him sharply). Do you +think so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, possibly we should have +fared better.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (very emphatically). And then, my +dear, I will tell you one thing more. You are compelling me to do so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And that is?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I don't care to lie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. What do you mean by that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I don't care to feign, to these +people, feelings that are entirely absent. That is why I am going upstairs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (very calmly). Does that refer to +... the dead?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, it does! I did not know <i> +him</i> and he did not know <i>me</i>! Did not care to know me. What obligations +remain for me? None at all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Are you serious?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (bolt upright). In all +seriousness. Now it is out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (quite calm). Very well, then go!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I'll see you later. (She goes +toward the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (struggles for composure, then +suddenly). Hella! For <i>my</i> sake ... Do <i>not</i> go. Stay here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (turns to him). No, Paul, one +should not force himself to do such things. Put the responsibility upon your +father! I am not to blame. I am only acting as I must. You would do the same. +[Off at the right.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (beside himself). It's well that +you are reminding me of that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (approaches). Shall I remove +your wife's plate?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, take the plate away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Have you seen the +Laskowskis?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, at the cemetery, Auntie. I +shall go now and call the guests. (Goes off.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"> [<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> walks toward the +right, shaking her head, then pulls the bell.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (comes in from the right, behind +the scene). What is it. Miss Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Have the soup brought in! +It will take me some time to fill all of the plates, anyhow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Very well!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Now where are you to serve? +And where is the coachman to serve? You haven't forgotten?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. I am to serve on the right and +the coachman on the left. Is that right?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, you may go! And don't +forget, all serving is to be done by way of the green room! Be sure not to come +in from this side! [<span class="sc">Lene</span> goes off.]</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> retires to the background, +where she is occupied for some time, without being very much in evidence. The +door at the right is opened.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (still hidden to view). Come in, +ladies and gentlemen! In this way! (<span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>, <span class="sc"> +Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>, <span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>, <span class="sc"> +Raabe</span>, father and son, <span class="sc">Mertens</span>, <span class="sc"> +Kunze</span>, <span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>, <span class="sc">Schnaase</span>, <span class="sc"> +Mrs. Schnaase</span>, +<span class="sc">Josupeit</span>, <span class="sc">Licentiate Schrock</span> and +others enter and dispose themselves in groups before and behind the Oleanders.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Sr</span>. (puts his hand up to his +side). I don't know, but that cemetery put a stitch into my side.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Yes, that was a nasty, cold +snow. If we only get something to eat soon!... So we can warm up!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Ought to be a bit +careful of yourself at your age, Mr. Raabe!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Why, how old <i>am</i> I? +Seventy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Not worth mentioning, eh? Prime of +life!... How old +<i>was</i> Warkentin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Why we just heard about that +in the sermon, sixty-two!</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Not very old!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Yes, that's the way they go ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. To the grand army, eh Raabe, +old boy? Who knows when we will get our orders.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. It will be our turn next.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Don't say that! It is +not a matter of age! Look at Warkentin, did he give evidence of his end?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. The affair with his son put +him over, or he would be here today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (looks around). Why, +where is the young man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Pretty nice fellow in other +respects!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. He will have a deuce of +a time if he intends to farm here. You can't pick that up helter skelter. Has +any one heard? Does he intend to take it on? Or is he going to sell?</p> +<p class="hang2">[He turns toward the rear. Meanwhile <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>, <span class="sc">Paul</span>, AND + <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> have entered from the right and have +joined a group of guests in the background.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. In the old days the son always +followed in the footsteps of his father. The son of a land-owner became a +land-owner. That's all out of style now. Everybody goes to school.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Well, your son is doing that +very thing, Raabe.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. (has come forward). Good +morning, Mr. Schnaase!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Good morning, brother +student!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. Well, pa?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Well, my son?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Keeping right after +beerology, young man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. Purty well, thanks! A fellow +guzzles his way through.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. How many semesters does this +make, Mr. Raabe?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. Mebbie you'd better not ask +about that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. How many semesters? Twelve! +Isn't that it, my son?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. Astoundingly correct!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Then I suppose you'll tackle +the examinations one of these days, Mr. Raabe?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. There's plenty of time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Just let him study his fill! I'm +not at all in favor of too much hurry! He'll get office and emoluments soon +enough.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. I know one thing, <i>my</i> +boy will not get into a gymnasium! The agricultural school for him, till he can +qualify for the one year's service and off with him. No big notions for him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span> (holds his side). Outch, there's +my stitch again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. Take a whisky, pa! Shall I +get us a couple?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. A few fingers might not do any +harm.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. <i>Have</i> the girl before +you kiss her, according to Lehmann.[A]</p> + +<p class="hang2">[Footnote A: Nickname of Emperor William I, who according to +popular report took an interest in girls.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Jr</span>. What'll you bet? I can get +some! (He hastens to the rear.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Divvel of a fellow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schnaase</span>. Well now, I'd just like to +see. (Both of them follow <span class="sc">Raabe</span>, JR. to the rear.)</p> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span></span> +and <span class="sc"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span></span> come from the +left arm in arm.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (with a glance at +the arrangements). That is not exactly extraordinary.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Oh, I don't know, +Elizabeth, I find it quite pretty.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. And the wife does +not seem to be much in evidence.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Yes, she seems a bit +high toned.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. <i>Quite a bit.</i> +I wonder what kind of notions <i>she</i> +has about the society that she has encountered here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Do you think they will +stay here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Such creatures blow +in from Berlin, puff up like a turkey gobbler. I'd hate to know about her past!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Mrs. Laskowski looks +pretty interesting today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Do you think so? +Well, perhaps she has her reasons.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. You don't say! Do tell.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Don't you know +about it at all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Why no, what? I don't +get out very much, you know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. It was before your +day. You were not here then. I have a dim recollection, when I was quite a young +girl.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span> (all ear, seizes her +arm). Is it possible? What was it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (subdued). She had +an affair with him ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. With whom, pray tell?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. The <i>man</i> with +whom she is standing there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Why that is young Mr. +Warkentin.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Pst. They are +coming. (Quite subdued.) Later she married her husband out of spite, because she +did not get him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span> (squints curiously at <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). To think that she would still talk to him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Heavens, what does +she care! (To <span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>, who is quietly conversing +with <span class="sc">Mertens</span> at the fireplace.) Doctor, just a word!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. At your service, madam! +(He straightens up promptly and hastens to her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. I only wanted to +ask about a trifling matter, Doctor.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. I shall be <i>delighted</i>, +madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. But no one must +hear us. (Both disappear to the rear.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span> (has also stepped out from the +recess of the fireplace, to +<span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>). If you are willing to put up with me for +the present, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Oh, thank you very much! +But I might ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. Please, please, madam! May I +offer you my arm? (He takes her arm.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Josupeit</span> (has rushed up to the two from +the background). Too late! Just my luck! <i>I</i> was about to report!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. You will have to get up a bit +earlier the next time, my dear fellow; <i>I</i> shall take you to the table, +madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Josupeit</span> (from the other side). Take me +to the table dear, good madam! I'll tell you something quite interesting too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has come forward with <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). We shall eat immediately, Mr. Mertens.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. Please, please, as concerns +me! (He escorts <span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Josupeit</span> (catches sight of <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>, suddenly assumes a funereal air). My heartfelt sympathy, Mr. +Warkentin! (He seizes his hand and shakes it.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (reserved). I thank you! +<span class="sc">Josupeit</span> (is silent for a moment, then continues). +Another man of honor gone. (<span class="sc">Paul</span> nods silently. <span class="sc"> +Josupeit</span> again after a brief silence.) Terribly sudden!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (nods again and says). But I must +not detain you, Mr. Josupeit!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Josupeit</span>. Once more, my heartfelt +sympathy!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Josupeit</span> and the rest go off to the +rear.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> +who has stepped forward to the right near the fireplace). You see, madam, that's +the way of it! Just back from the cemetery. One buried forever, and the next +moment all of their thoughts somewhere else. Joyous and of good cheer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (stares into the fire, +bitterly). Yes, that's the way of it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Life rolls on merrily. The dead +are dead. We shall have the same fate some day, madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Of course we shall. It is immaterial to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her). Really?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. It does not matter to me, +whether it comes today or tomorrow. Sometime I shall have to go! So the quicker +the better. It is all over with me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You may believe me, I am +quite serious!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (completely absorbed, as he looks +at her). How calmly you say that! In the very bloom of life! I cannot think of +you thus.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. How?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Cold and dead.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. But I can. Very well +indeed. I am so now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That isn't true, Antoinette. Your +eyes tell a different story!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (shrugging her shoulders). +Never mind my eyes!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. But I can't help it. I must look +into them! I feel as if I must find something there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (turning away). Don't go to +any trouble!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Indeed, indeed, Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. What in the world could you +find?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. ... Possibly my lost life?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (excited). Why do you speak +so to me, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do I hear it from your lips, +Paul, Paul, as of old?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (frightened). Paul! Paul! +Desist!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. It has been a long time since I +have heard that sound!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Desist, at least for today, +I beg of you! It seems like a sin to me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why like a sin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You were just remarking +about the rest, and now you are doing the same thing, forgetting the dead.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I—forget him? I am thinking of +him incessantly! And of his last words, before we parted forever! Do you know +what they were, Toinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (subdued). Tell me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. "Go! Some day you will be sorry!" +... Possibly he was right, the dear old man! Today it kept resounding from his +open grave, as the clods and lumps of snow rumbled down on his coffin. "Are you +sorry now? Are you sorry now?" ... I have tried to get rid of it, but it refuses +to go. It keeps pursuing me and cries into my ears!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (has approached the two). +Well, dearie, how are you? What are you doing?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (turns around, as if +recoiling from something poisonous). Oh, it's you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Who would it be? Ain't it up +to me to look after my dearie now and then. Shan't we eat? They are all sitting +down.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has become composed). Your +husband is quite right, madam. We are the last. Unfortunately Mrs. Warkentin is +not very well. May I request you to play the part of the hostess a bit?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (distressed). If it must be, +Doctor ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her). Yes, there is no +help for it, madam. (Escorts her through the passage to the table.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (following them). And I, old +boy. Where am I to go?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (grimly). Wherever you please! The +world is wide and there is room for all. (He leads Antoinette around the table +to her place.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. I guess the shortest way is +the best! I'm going to sit right here. (He sits down beside <span class="sc"> +Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>, all the rest have also gradually taken their places. +The order at the visible central portion of the table is as follows, from left +to right: Outside, <span class="sc">Kunze</span>, +<span class="sc">Laskowski</span>, <span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>, <span class="sc"> +Director Mertens</span>, <span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>; opposite these +inside, <span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>, <span class="sc">Paul</span>, <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>, <span class="sc">Mr. von Tiedemann</span>, <span class="sc"> +Dr. Bodenstein</span>. During the whole of the following scene they are eating +and drinking. <span class="sc">Lene</span> and <span class="sc">Fritz</span>, in +livery, move to and fro, serving. <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> comes in +and goes out as the occasion demands. She has her seat with those who are hidden +and whose voices are only heard at times. At first the conversation remains +subdued.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Kunze</span> (rises). Ladies and gentlemen! +Before sitting down at the board, to regale ourselves with food and drink, does +it not involve upon us to devote a few words to the memory of the beloved +deceased, whose mortal remains we have today conducted to the last resting +place. And how can we do that more fittingly, ladies and gentlemen, than by +recalling the words recorded in holy writ. Ladies and gentlemen, what are the +words of the psalmist? The days of our years are three-score years and ten; and +if, by reason of strength, they be four-score years, yet is their strength labor +and sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly away! Ladies and gentlemen! He who +no longer dwells in our midst in the body, but whose spirit is looking down upon +all of us, the beloved deceased, may he rest in peace.</p> +<p class="right">[Silence. Short pause as they continue to eat.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (the first to finish his +soup, leans back). A soup like that does warm a fellow up.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Especially when you have +been out in your sleigh for nearly two hours.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. And then a full hour at the +cemetery on top of it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (quickly). But the +sermon was really touching. From the very heart. Any one who had known the dead +man ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Not a soul kept from crying!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Yes, remarkably +beautiful!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. A fellow forgot all about +being hungry.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span> (leans over to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Are they talking about the sermon?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (aloud). Yes, Mrs. Borowski.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. I didn't understand very +much.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (courteously). At your age, Mrs. +Borowski!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span> (in an undertone to <span class="sc"> +Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>). Who is she?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. It's the widow of +the former teacher at the estate here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. She seems to hail from the +days of the French occupation!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. <i>Does</i> she? She has +at least eighty years on her back.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. But is well preserved.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span> (to <span class="sc">Paul</span>). +I say, Mr. Warkentin, I knew your father when he was no bigger than ... (Holding +her hand not far from the ground.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (subdued). Fifty years ago?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. Oh, it's longer than +that. Almost sixty. I saw them all grow up. Now I'm almost the only one left +from those times.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (leans over toward her with +his glass). Well, here's to you Auntie!... You don't drink very much any more I +suppose? (He drinks.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. Oh, indeed! I am still +able to take a glass.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Come, Mrs. Borowski, let me help +you. (He fills her glass.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. When I was young I never +caught sight of wine. Now that I'm old I have more than I can drink.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Drink ahead, Auntie! Drink +ahead! Wine makes you young!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. You know, your good wife +is always sending me some.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (nonplussed). I do say, +dearie, why, I don't know a thing about that.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> silently shrugs her +shoulders and casts a quick glance at him.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (friendly again). Makes no +difference, dearie, no difference at all! Just send ahead! We do have a lot of +it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. There is surely enough for +us to spare a little for an old lady.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Sure, dearie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span> (leans over to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). Do you remember, pet, how you used to come and call with +your parents, now dead and gone? A little bit of a thing you were, Paul would +lift you on the horse and you didn't cry at all, you sat there just like a +grown-up ... I remember it very well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I don't. Such things <i>are</i> +forgotten.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her). Have you really +forgotten that, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Heavens, I haven't thought +of it again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. Just wait and see, pet, +when you are old you will think of it again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Not all people grow to be +as old as you, dear Mrs. Borowski.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (has partaken freely of the +wine). Dearie, you'll grow as old as the hills! I can prophesy that much. +Haven't you the finest kind of a time!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I?... Of course!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (garrulously). What do you +lack!... Nuthin'!... Children's what you lack!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (looks at him sharply). +Never mind, please!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (abashed). Well, well, don't +put on so, dearie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Have you any children, Doctor?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. No, I'm sorry to say, madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mr. von Tiedemann</span> (to his wife). We're +better off in that respect, Bess, aren't we? Three lusty bairns!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. And <i>we</i>, with our +five!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (touched). Do you see, +dearie! What am I always tellin' you! An agriculturalist without children ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Kunze</span>. Abraham scored one hundred when +the Lord bestowed his son Isaac upon him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. But a fellow like me can't +wait that long—stuff and nonsense. What if I die and ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You will take care not to do +that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Don't say that, brother! I'm +going to die young! I'm sure of it. An old woman once told my fortune, and she +said I wouldn't see more than fifty. But, do you know what, dearie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). I suppose you frequently came to Ellernhof in the old days, +Madam von Laskowski?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Why, the departed was my +guardian, you know, Mrs. Von Tiedemann.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Oh yes. I had +forgotten that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Do you ride horseback as +much as ever, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Now and then, for pastime!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Now don't you say a word, +dearie! Why, you're pasted on a horse all day long, and then from horseback +right into the cold, cold water. Did anybody ever hear the like of it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Antoinette</span>). +Yesterday I had a horseback ride again too, madam. Have I told you about it? The +first time in years. And, what is more, I got quite near your place. I was even +able to see the houses of Klonowken.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Did you ride through the +forest?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Of course, through the pine +forest of Klonowken, yesterday morning. Right through the snow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Why, I was out at the same +time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her). You were, madam? +Too bad! Why did we not chance to meet?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I suppose it was not +ordained so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (after drinking again). I +say, dearie, one of these days when I die, do you know what I'll do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. If one of us dies, I'll go to +Karlsbad, eh, Laskowski?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Listen, dearie! You'll +inherit all I have an' marry another fellow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sternly). Control yourself a bit, +Laskowski.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (undaunted). Ain't that true, +dearie? Tell me that you'll come to my grave! Promise me that much, dearie! Then +I'll die easy. You'll come along and sit down and cry a few tearies on my grave. +(He chokes down his tears and drinks again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (has also been drinking +freely). Well, here's to our friend, departed in his prime. (He raises his glass +to <span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (disapprovingly). +Why, Fritz!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (collecting himself). +H'm! Well ... Didn't think of +<i>that</i>. One forgets. Pardon me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Will you not help +yourselves, ladies and gentlemen? (To +<span class="sc">Lene</span>, who is just passing with dishes in her hands.) +Serve around once more!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (helps himself). My +favorite dish, veal-roast!... (To +<span class="sc">Bodenstein</span>. ) What do you say, Doctor, you are so quiet?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. Do whatever you do, +with a will! I am now devoting myself to culinary delights!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. I regard this sauce a +phenomenal achievement.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. There are tomatoes in +it, I think.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. I must ask for the recipe.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe, Junior's</span>(voice in the +background). Here's to you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Voices</span> (in confusion, in the +background). Here's to you! Your health!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (gets up, raises his glass +toward the background). Here's to everybody!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Voices</span> (from behind). Here's to you, +Laskowski!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock's</span> (voice). Here's to you, old +rough-neck!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Don't drink so much, Laskowski! (<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> +bites her lips and looks away.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (whispering). Let me drink, +brother! Drink and forget your pain, says Schiller. Ain't that it, old chap, +ain't it, now? You're a kind of a poet yourself, ain't you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (in an undertone, to <span class="sc"> +Mertens</span>). He's tanking up again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (to <span class="sc">Paul</span>, +through her teeth). Awful!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (in an undertone). Oh, don't mind +him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Let me drink, old fellow. +I'm not going to live long anyhow. It's on my chest ... Do you hear it rattle, +old boy? Listen! Just listen! Listen to <i>me</i>, not to my dearie. When we're +dead, we're out of it! We'll not get another drop! An' then we'll sleep till +judgment day in the pitch-dark grave. Then you'll be rid of me, dearie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gets up). Excuse me, +Doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (also jumps up). Are you ill, +madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (moves aside). Now +it is getting a bit uncanny.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span> (her hand at her ear). +Are they talking about the judgment day?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Kunze</span> (who eats away lustily, partly to +himself). On the judgment day when the Lord will return to judge the quick and +the dead.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Antoinette</span>, +who partly leans upon him). How are you, Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (has become composed again). +I am all right again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. Would you like a glass +of water?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Yes, water!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No, thank you! This awful +heat!... Don't let me disturb you.</p> +<p class="hang2">[The conversation which had become very loud is carried on in a +more subdued manner. All are whispering to each other.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, Shall I take you out, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (with a supreme effort). No, +thank you, I shall remain! (Sits down again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (with a stupid stare). Just +stay here, dearie! Just stay here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Now do be quiet, Laskowski. (Also +sits down again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> Ain't I quiet, brother? +Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet as the grave! Damn it all. I wonder how your +father feels now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Kunze</span>. We are happy, but he is happier.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (frantically controlling +herself). Help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen! Mr. von Tiedemann, don't be +backward!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. I'm getting my share.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. So am I. I don't let things +affect my appetite.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (singing half audibly). +Jinks, do you have to die, young as you are ... young as ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span> (to <span class="sc">Paul</span>). +Now it has come, just as the departed always wished.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. How so, Mrs. Borowski?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Borowski</span>. That you would be back, +Paul, and that everything about the estate would go right on as before! If he +could only look down upon that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (nervously). Yes!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (leans over to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Settled fact is it, Mr. Warkentin? Really going to get into the +harness?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (pricking up his ears). Can't +do it, old chap! Come on!... Can't begin to do it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I do intend to, Mr. von +Tiedemann.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Well, you'd better think +that over! Not every one can match your father as an agriculturalist.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. With a little honest effort ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. If <i>that</i> were all! +To begin with, you can't match your father physically. You have to be accustomed +to such things. In all kinds of weather! And then ... No child's play to farm +now-a-days! Starvation prices for grain! Simply a shame! If that continues I'll +vouch that all this blooming farming will go to the devil within twenty years!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (shaking her head). +To think of having you speak that way, Fritz!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Of course, if a fellow +has a few pennies to fall back on, it's not so bad. But how many are there who +have. The rest will go broke!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (hums again). The Count of +Luxemburg has squandered all his cash ... cash ... cash ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (eagerly). And who will +have the advantage? The few who have money. They will buy for a song and some +day, when times are better again, they will sell for twice as much. Some day +they are likely to roll in wealth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (as before). Has squandered +all his cash ... In one old merry night ... ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (leans back in her chair). +My husband is no longer conscious of what he is saying!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Me? Not conscious?... Don't +I know. Word for word! Shall I tell you, dearie? What you said and what I said +and what Paul said to you ... Antoinette, how are you?... How are you +Antoinette? (Short laugh.) Well, do I know, dearie? Did I hold on to it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. One must excuse you in your +condition.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Don't worry about <i>him</i>, +madam. He's one of these fellows with a big purse. He may chuckle! I can foresee +that he will buy up the whole county some day!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Just what I'll do. What's +the price of the world! Five bits a fling!... We can still raise that much. The +more foolish the farmer, the bigger his spuds!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. His sugar-beets!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. I say, boys!... Do you know +how many tons of sugar-beets I raised to the acre! Last round?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Now, don't Spread it on!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (jumps up). Fellows! My word +of honor! I'm not lying! Thirty-five tons an acre! Who can match that? Nobody +can! I can! I'm a devil of a fellow, I've always said so, ain't I, dearie? You +know! (He strikes his chest and sits down.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Thirty-five ton per +acre! Ridiculous!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. I can honestly swear to the +contrary!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. And your dad, I tell you he +was mad! He just couldn't look at me! But I don't bear him any grudge! I'm a man +of honor! Shake hands, old chap! You say so, ain't I a man of honor? Put 'er +there! Man of honor face to face with man of honor. But you must look at me, man +alive! Or I won't believe you! (He extends his hand over to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (negative gesture). Never mind! +Just believe me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (looks at <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). Dearie, don't make such a face! Eat! Eat!... So you can get +strong, so you can survive your poor Heliodor! (All except <span class="sc">Paul</span> +and <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> laugh.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span> (to <span class="sc"> +Mertens</span>). Incipient delirium!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> whispers something +into <span class="sc">Mertens</span>' ear.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to <span class="sc">Antoinette</span>). +You really haven't taken a thing, madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I am not hungry. But will +the ladies and gentlemen not take something more? A little more of the dessert, +perhaps.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. No, thanks, madam! I +can't eat another thing! Not if I try! Or I'll burst!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span> (reproachfully). +Fritz!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. Albumen! Fat! +Carbo-hydrates! <i>In hoc signo vinces.</i> <span class="sc">Mertens</span>. And +now a little cup of coffee!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. And a cock-tail!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. To retard metabolism!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. The coffee will be here directly!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> appears upon the scene and +talks to <span class="sc">Antoinette</span> in an undertone.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (who has been dozing, wakes +up again, takes his glass and addresses <span class="sc">Paul</span>). You know +what I'de done, Paul, if I'd been your dad?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nodding to <span class="sc"> +Aunt Clara</span>). Miss Clara tells me that the coffee is in the next room. +Whenever the ladies and gentlemen are so disposed ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (interrupts). If I'de been +your father, old chap, I'd drunk all of my claret before my wind-up! I wouldn't +'a left a drop!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock's</span> (voice). Greedy gut!</p> + +<p class="right">[All get up and are about to exchange formalities.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe Junior's</span> (voice in the +background). Here's to you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span> (knocks on his glass, +with a loud voice). Ladies and gentlemen! Let us dedicate a glass to the memory +of the departed, according to the beautiful tradition of our fathers; that we +must not mourn the dead, that we should envy them! Our slumbering friend lives +on in the memory of those who were near to him! To immortality, in this sense, +all of us may, after all, agree in a manner! (He raises his glass and clinks +with those beside him. All the rest do the same. Silence prevails. Only the +clinking of glasses is heard.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (raising his glass, to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). The doctor is right! Let us drink to his memory, madam! May +the earth rest lightly on him! (<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> lowers her +head and stifles her tears.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looking at her fervently). Aren't +yon going to respond?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (musters her strength, +raises her head, and with tears in her eyes clinks glasses with him).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (drinks). To the memory of my +father.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nods). Your father!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. To that of our parents, madam! A +silent glass! (He empties his glass.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> puts down her glass, after +she has drunk.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (has noticed <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). Just cry ahead, dearie! Cry your fill! That's the way +they'll drink to your Heliodor some day!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. And so they will drink +to all of us some day!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Kunze</span>. For man's life on earth is like +unto the grass of the field, on which the wind bloweth. It flourisheth for a +season and withereth and no one remembereth it. So also the children of men.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dr. Bodenstein</span>. This goblet to the +departed, one and all! (He drinks again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. The departed on these walls! I +drink to you! (He raises his glass to the portraits on the walls. All have risen +meanwhile, and broken up into new groups. Confusion of voices in the +background.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock</span> and <span class="sc">Raabe</span> +(have intonated the Gaudeamus. At first softly, then more distinctly the +following stanza is sung):</p> +<div style="margin-left:6em"> +<p class="continue">Ubi sunt qui ante nos<br> + In mundo fuere?<br> + Vadite ad superos,<br> + Transite ad inferos,<br> + Ubi jam fuere.</p> +</div> +<p class="center"><a name="pix_190" href="#pixRef_190"><img src="images/pg190.png" alt="Fording_the_River"></a></p> +<p class="center">FORDING THE WATER</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has joined in lustily at +the end, and repeats alone). Ubi jam fuere!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Mertens</span>, <span class="sc">von +Tiedemann</span>, <span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>, <span class="sc">Mrs. +von Tiedemann</span> stand in the foreground where they have been conversing in +an undertone.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span> (in an undertone). Now the pot +is boiling!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span> (a bit mellow). That's +the way a funeral should be! No airs! The dead won't become alive again anyhow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. Many a man might object to +that anyhow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. The devil take it. A +fellow doesn't want to give up what he once has!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. Wasn't Laskowski superb again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Always is, of late! +Never see him any other way!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. And then Mrs. +Laskowski? Did you watch, Gretchen?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. Schnaase</span>. I don't exactly see, +Elizabeth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. You <i>didn't</i>, +how they kept on whispering together? She hasn't a bit of modesty!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. I'll bet my head +Laskowski will plant himself here some day. The young man surely can't make it +go in the long run. Why he can't hold on to the estate.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Didn't she bat her +eyes again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. She <i>does</i> have eyes!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. <i>Does</i> she!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mrs. von Tiedemann</span>. Just go ahead and +propose to her, the togged-out thing!... Come on Gretchen!</p> +<p class="right">[Both go off to the left.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Bang!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mertens</span>. What do you think of <i>that</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">von Tiedemann</span>. Let's see if we can find +a cocktail! Come on Mertens! (They go out at the left.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Paul</span>, <span class="sc">Antoinette</span>, <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski </span>come over from the right.]</p> + +<p class="center">[Illustration: FORDING THE WATER]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (quite intoxicated, to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>). Without a doubt, madam, a beautiful, sensitive soul will, +above all, find expression in the hand. So would you, perhaps, let me have your +hand for a moment....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (chilly). For what purpose?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (has seized her hand, +impassioned). Only to imprint a kiss upon these beautiful, soft, delicate, +distinguished, aristocratic finger-tips! (He kisses her finger-tips.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (withdraws her hand). I beg +your pardon, sir!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (is detained in a group +consisting of <span class="sc">Schrock</span>, <span class="sc">Raabe Jr</span>. , +and others. He has seen <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> kiss <span class="sc"> +Antoinette's</span> hand). Boys, let me go!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock</span>, <span class="sc">Raabe</span>, +and <span class="sc">Others</span>. Stay right here, old boy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Let me go, I say ... I want +to get to my dearie! (He tries to disengage himself.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock</span> (very unsteady on his feet). +Dear old chap! I'll ... not ... let you!... Let's have another drink first!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. I want to get to my dearie! +(They restrain him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (follows <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span> with his eyes. She has retreated behind the oleanders in the +foreground on the left). Ravishing creature! I must follow her! (About to follow +her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That you will not do! (Intercepts +him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Let me pass!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That way, please! (He points to +the left.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (with clenched fists). +Brutal fellow! (He struts toward the left and runs into <span class="sc"> +Laskowski</span>, who is still standing in the group with +<span class="sc">Schrock</span> and the rest, and who immediately fraternizes +with him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looking at him as he goes). A +rare team!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (approaches <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>, trying to embrace him). Old chap!... Are you a Pole?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. A Pole! Yes, indeed! von +Glyszinski!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Your name is Glyszinski! +Mine is Laskowski! Come to my heart, fellow countryman!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span>. Boys, such a thing as that calls +for a drink. (He goes over toward the left.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Drink, fellow countryman! +Drink and kiss my wife. Do you want to kiss my wife?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (pompously). Sir!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. <i>You</i> may. Nobody else. +A Pole may. Ain't she beautiful, that dearie of mine?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Beautiful as the starry +sky!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (embracing his neck). +Brother! Come along!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Schrock</span> (stands near them, swaying). +Your health, you ... jolly ... brothers!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Brotherhood? Yes, we'll +drink to our brotherhood, my fellow countryman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Raabe</span> (comes in from the left). There's +lots of good stuff in there. Come, be quick about it. Too bad to waste your time +here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (leading <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>, who resists a trifle, out at the left, singing as he goes). +Poland is not lost forever!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Raabe</span> and <span class="sc">Schrock</span> +follow arm in arm. The rest have gradually withdrawn toward the left in the +course of the preceding scene. + <span class="sc">Lene</span> and <span class="sc">Fritz</span> clear the +table and carry out the dishes. <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> directs the +work and assists now and then. <span class="sc">Paul</span> stands near the +table in the foreground, lost in thought.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Won't you go and have some +coffee, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. No, not now, Auntie! Later! I +need a little rest! Will you soon be through?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Directly, my boy!... (To <span class="sc"> +Lene</span>. ) Hurry now! There is plenty of work ahead!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (subdued). Leave me alone for a +little while, Auntie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (understanding him). I'll be +going, Paul!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Lene</span> and <span class="sc">Fritz</span> +have completed their work and go out at the right.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (in an undertone, as she +goes toward the right). Have a good chat, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (seriously). No occasion!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> goes off at the left. One +can hear her, as she closes the door on the left. Silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stands undecided for a moment, +then he slowly walks over to the row of oleanders, where <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span> sits leaning back in a chair at the sofa table with her hands +pressed to her face. He looks at her for a long while, then softly says). +Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (moans to herself, without +stirring). My God!... My God!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (places his hand on the crown of +her head). You poor ... poor child! (He sits down in the chair beside her, takes +her hand which she surrenders to him passively, presses it and tenderly kisses +it, saying). Sweet ... sweet Toinette!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> covers her face with her +left hand while <span class="sc">Paul</span> continues to hold her right +hand. She is breathing convulsively.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her with devotion, +closes his hands nervously). I fairly worship you! (Continues to look at her, +then says.) Won't you look at me, Antoinette? (He gently removes her hand from +her face.) Please, please, Toinette! Let me see your eyes! Just let me see your +eyes! (He stoops down over her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sinks upon his breast, +putting her arms around his neck). Dearest!... Dearest Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embraces her impetuously). +Sweetheart!... Now you are mine!... Sweetheart! (Continuing in a silent, fervent +embrace. Pause.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (startled, and tries to +withdraw from him). God! Great God!... What have I done?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (holds her and embraces her +again). No retreat, Antoinette. No retreat is possible!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (beside herself). Let me go, +Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I shall not let you go, Toinette. +And if it is a matter of life and death.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (with a slight outcry). +Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (presses her to him firmer than +ever). Do you want the people to come in? Then call them! Let them find us!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (on his breast). I had an +intimation of this.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Did you? You too?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Both of us, Paul! (In +rapture.) Kiss me, my friend!... My beloved!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. A thousand times over! (He kisses +her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (returns his kisses). And <i> +I</i>, <i>you</i> a thousand times over!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. My dear, tell me that you love +me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nestling up to him). You +know I do, dear! ... Why have me tell you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with folded hands). Please, +please tell me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I do love you, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Tell me again! I have never heard +the word! Say it once more!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I have always loved you, +Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Always? Always? Always?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Always!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And I failed to realize it +all!... Fool, fool, fool! (He moans convulsively.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (places her arms about him +again). Don't think of it! Not now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You are right, dear! Our time is +short!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Forget all! Forget! Forget!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I <i>cannot</i> forget! It was +too long!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Indeed it was long! But I +knew that you would return.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And you took the other man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sadly, but with a touch of +roguishness). And <i>you</i> the other woman!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (startled). Do not remind me of +it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (endearingly). I took the +other man while I was thinking of you! I waited for you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Waited for me, and I was not +conscious of it. Missed my happiness. Staked my life for nothing! For a +delusion! Some one had to die before I could realize what I might have enjoyed! +Too late, too late, too late!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (endearingly). Forget, my +love! Forget! Forget! Lay your head upon my breast!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (places his head upon her bosom). +A good resting place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (rocks him in her arms). +Sleep, beloved! Sleep!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (straightens up, beside himself +with longing). Antoinette!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Mine again, lover of my +youth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Dearest!... Dearest!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Cruel, cruel man!... Mine +after tireless seeking.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Idol of my heart!... Safe in my +arms at last! (Pause. Rapturous embrace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (straightens up and looks into her +eyes). Is this still sinful, sweetheart?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nods gravely). Still! And +will remain so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (roguishly). Not to be forgiven?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gravely). Not to be +forgiven!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And yet you consent, with all +your piety?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I do consent! I have no +other choice! (She leans upon his breast.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embraces her, then with a sad +smile). <i>Never</i> to be forgiven, Antoinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gently). Possibly! In +heaven.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Your God is inexorable, +Antoinette.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (impassioned). You are my +god! I have ceased to have another!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And would you follow me, even +unto death?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Unto death and beyond!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (is forced to smile). Even to +damnation, I dare say?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. These terrors have lost +their force for both of us!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you think so? Have you already +come to this?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. We have had our damnation +here on earth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (jumps up). Here on earth! But not +one hour more! Now the end is at hand!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Come, dear, sit down with +me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, let us ponder what we are to +do now. (He sits down beside her again.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nestles up to him). Not +now! Not today! Promise me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. When, when, Toinette? It must +come to an end.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. It shall! But let <i>me</i> +determine the hour, dearest!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>, Yes, the day and the hour, +do you hear?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Antoinette, if you put the matter +in this way ... I cannot refuse, whatever you may ask!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Only one more day! Then I +will write or come and tell you. Will you be ready?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then I shall be ready for +anything! Then we shall have a reckoning. Then life shall begin all over again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Yes, another life!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sadly). Even though the sun is +already sinking.... Possibly there is still time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I shall do anything for you +and you will do anything for me.... We agree to that! (They look into each +other's eyes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gently). Do you remember, +Toinette, on this very spot ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Ten years ago? I do! I do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. How strangely all has come about +and how necessary nevertheless! So predestined! So inexorable! Fate! Fate!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (brooding). I hung upon your +lips and you ignored me! I had ceased to exist for you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And so we lost each other.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. But today, today we have +found each other once more, oh lover of my youth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Late, Toinette, so late!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Heavens, how stupid I was +in those days!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Stupid because you loved me, +Toinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No, because I did not tell +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And I did not suspect it! Now who +was worse?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Both of us, dear! We were +too young!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And today I am an old man!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. And what of <i>me</i> ... +An old woman!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Beloved!... Young and beautiful +as ever. How young you have remained all of these years!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. For your sake, dear. I knew +that I must remain young till you would return! That is why I insisted upon +riding like a Cossack ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That is why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. And swimming like a trout +in the stream! And rowing like a sailor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And all in order to remain young +and beautiful?... You vain, vain creature!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (mysteriously). And in order +to forget, you foolish, foolish fellow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (to himself, bitterly). In order +to forget!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (taking his head in her +hands). Don't think of it! Don't think of it! Now we have found each other +again. That too is past!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, all is past! I have you and +shall never leave you!... (Looking up at the walls). Yes, look down upon me out +of your frames! Father and mother, envy me! Venerable hall, rarely have you +beheld such happiness!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Happiness and death in one, +lover!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Possibly they are one and the +same! (The door at the left is opened, both get up.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara's</span> (voice from the left). +Paul, are you here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. We are here. Aunt Clara! (Noise +from the left.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (comes forward). Our guests +are about to go, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Very well! Then we'll go +too. (The two walk erectly into the center passage.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has opened the door at the +right, enters and sees <span class="sc">Paul</span> and +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> with <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>). +Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turning around very calmly). Is +it you, Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. As you see! (She stands +immediately before them, looks at them with a hostile expression; to <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span>. ) I beg your pardon, madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nods her head). Please!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (coldly). What do you wish?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (looks at him nonplussed, is +silent a moment and then says curtly). Where is Glyszinski? I need him!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (as before). There, if you please. +If you will take the trouble to step into the next room ... (<span class="sc">Laskowski</span> +and <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>, arm in arm, enter from the left, +followed by the other guests.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (very tipsy, but not +completely robbed of his senses). Brother! Polish brother! Don't leave me in the +lurch ... Help me find my dearie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (with head erect). Here I +am.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span> (sobered at the sight of +her). Why dearie, where have you been? Have you had a long talk with Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (extends her hand to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Good-by, Doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Good-by, madam! We shall see each +other again! (He looks squarely into her eye.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (significantly). We <i>shall</i> +see each other again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Laskowski</span>. Shan't we go, dearie? Why, +it's almost evening. +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Yes, almost evening. I am ready. (She walks +over to the right calmly and goes out. The guests prepare to go.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has been standing silently +witnessing the scene, and now approaches <span class="sc">Paul</span>). What +does this mean, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (about to go, frigidly). A woman +whom I knew in the old days!... Good-by. (He leaves her and goes out at the +right with the guests.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (partly to herself, partly +calling after him). Paul! What <i>does</i> +this mean?... Paul!</p> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ACT IV</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">Afternoon, two days later. The banquet hoard and oleanders have +been removed, every trace of the funeral has been carefully obliterated. Clear +sunlight comes in from the garden windows in the background and lights up the +spacious, sombre hall. The bushes and trees of the garden are coated with ice. +The fire is burning as usual. Toward the end of the act the sunlight gradually +vanishes and a light, gray dusk fills the hall. <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> +stands at the fireplace with her arms folded over her waist, and looks into the +fire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (who has been pacing the floor, +stops and passes his hand over his hair nervously). So no letter has come, Aunt +Clara?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (looking up). No, no, my +boy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (impatiently). And no messenger +either?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. From where do you expect +one?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (in agony). Great God, from where? +From where? From anywhere? Some tiding! Some word! A letter! (Paces the floor +again excitedly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why I can't tell. Are you +expecting anything from some source or other?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (impetuously). Would I be <i> +asking</i>, Aunt Clara?</p> +<p class="right">[Silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (violently agitated, partly to +himself). Incomprehensible! Incomprehensible! Two days without news! Two full +days!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (sadly). I do not comprehend +you either, my boy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (takes a few steps without heeding +her). This stillness! This death-like stillness!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (sits down). Isn't it good, +when peace prevails?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. As you look at it. Certainly it +is good! But first of all one must be at peace himself! Must have become calm +and clear about the matters that concern one. Know what one wants to do and is +expected to do and what one is here for in this world.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. But every one knows that, +Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (without listening to her, rather +to himself). Uncanny, this silence all around one. Doubly and three-fold one +feels, how it seethes and boils within, without one's getting anywhere. One can +hear himself +<i>think</i>! (He stops, then in a changed voice, as he looks up.) No no, Aunt +Clara, people who have closed their account, belong in the country. Others do +not! (<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> looks at him and is silent. After a +moment.) The rest need noise, diversion, human beings about them. One +<i>must</i> have something in order <i>to be able to</i> forget! Some narcotic +to put one to sleep! There <i>are</i> people, who do that all of their lives and +are quite, happy, who never come to themselves, are continually living in a kind +of intoxication and leave this world without attaining real consciousness. You +see, Auntie, the city is the proper place for that. There you can dull your +feelings and forget.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I could not stand the city.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, you, Aunt Clara! You are a +child of the country.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Well, aren't you, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. True! But you have never been +alienated from the soil! I tell you the man who has once partaken of that +poison, can not give it up, he is forced to go back to it again and again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (impatiently). One simply +can't understand you, Paul. When you arrived, you said one thing and now you are +saying another. The very idea!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (is forced to smile). You fail to +understand that, you good old soul! Of course, you do not know what has come to +pass since then. At that time I was not at odds with myself ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. At that time! When, pray +tell? You came on the third holiday and this is New Year's eve. You have been +here for five days.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Today it's quite a different +matter. Quite different!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. What on earth has <i> +happened</i>, pray tell!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Much, much, Aunt Clara!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (probing). I suppose because +they were a bit boisterous at the funeral! That's the way of it, you know, when +they get to drinking.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (negative gesture). Good heavens, +no!... No!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. That's the way they <i> +always</i> act at funerals. I know of funerals where there was dancing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, yes, that may be!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And then they all were so +friendly with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh, yes. With the friendliest +kind of an air, they told me not to take it into my head that I know how to +farm.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why, Paul. You only imagine +that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. The good neighbors. At bottom +they are right! How should an old man be able to learn the things that call for +the efforts of a whole life, just as any other career does! Ridiculous! Why that +simply must have lurid consequences.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (impatiently). I should +never have thought that you would act this way, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Act what way? I am only checking +over the possibilities. Every business man does that! And I tell you, the +prospects are desperately bad! I can fairly see Laskowski establish himself here +after I have lost the place! (He has slowly walked over to the garden window on +the right and looks out into the garden.)</p> +<p class="right">[Silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (after a time). What a beautiful +day! The snow is glittering in the sunlight. The trees stand so motionless.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Awfully cold out-doors, my +boy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I know it. Aunt Clara, but the +light is refreshing after all of the dark days. The old year is shining forth +once more in its full glory.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The days are getting longer +again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (meditating). Didn't you tell me, +once upon a time, Auntie, that the time between Christmas and New Year is called +the holy season?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The time between Christmas +and Epiphany, Paul. If anyone dies then ... (She suddenly stops.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (calmly). Finish it, Aunt Clara! +If some one dies then, another member of the family will follow him. Isn't that +the purport?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Why Paul, I don't know! +Purport of what? Who would believe in all of those things?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Of course not! [Brief silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with her hand behind her +ear). Do you hear the whips crack, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (also listens). Faintly, yes. It +seems to be out in front.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. The young folks are lashing +the old year out. They always do that on New Year's Eve when the sun goes down.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (reflecting). I know. I know. I +have heard it many a New Year's Eve. When the sun was setting.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Another one gone!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stares out). Just so it stood +between the trees, and kept on sinking and sinking, and I was a little fellow +and watched it from the window. And at last it was down and twilight came on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Thank God, Paul, this year +is over.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Who knows what the day may still +have in store for us! Things are taking their course.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Tonight we shall surely all +take punch together, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. If we have time and the desire to +do so, yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (nervously). How you <i>are</i> +talking, Paul! Don't make a person afraid!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (glancing at the sinking sun). Now +it is directly over the pavilion. Now we shall not enjoy it much longer. (With a +wave of his hand.) I greet thee, sun! Sinking sun!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I was going to ask you, in +regard to the pavilion ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns around). Yes I'm glad that +I've thought of it! (He comes forward and pulls the bell.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (opens the door at the right and +enters). Did you ring, sir?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes. My trunks, books, all of my +things are to be taken over to the garden-house. Understand?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (astonished). To the garden-house?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, to the pavilion. Put the +rooms in proper order. Don't forget to make a fire. I suppose there's a bed +there for the night?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Everything, my boy. Only it +will have to be put to rights, because no one has put up there this many a day.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Are the madam's things also to be +...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. No they are <i>not</i>! They are +to stay here!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> shakes her head and turns +away.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Shall I do so immediately ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Is madam still asleep?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. I think so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then wait till madam is up, and +go there afterward.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. What if madam should ask ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then tell her that I requested +you to do so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (confused). I'm to say that Mr. +Warkentin has requested ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (resolutely). And you are to do +what I have requested. Do you understand me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. Very well, sir!... And I was +going to say, the inspector has been here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Has he? Back from town already? +(Struck by a sudden thought.) Did he possibly have a letter for me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. I don't know. I think he only +wanted to know about the work ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And there hasn't been a +messenger? Say, from Klonowken?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span>. No, nothing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then you may go. Oh yes, when the +inspector returns, you might call me. (<span class="sc">Lene</span> goes off to +the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (walks through the hall, clenching +his fists nervously). Nothing yet? Nothing yet? And the day is almost gone!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with growing anxiety). +What's the matter with you, Paul? Something is brewing here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That may be very true!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And then, that you insist +upon changing your quarters today! It does seem to me ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You can only take pleasure in +that. You see by that, that I have resolved to stay at Ellernhof. Or I should +certainly not go to the trouble.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Yes, yes, but your wife?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Who? Hella? All the better if the +matter comes to a head. The issue is dead ripe!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (approaches him anxiously). +Paul, Paul! This will not come to a good end.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Quite possible. That is not at +all necessary!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. And I am to blame for all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You? Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I got you into it! No one +else!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (is forced to smile). Innocent +creature! Individuals quite apart from you got me into it. It has taken a whole +lifetime to bring it about! You are as little to blame for that as you are for +the fall of Adam and the existence of the world and the fact that some day we +shall all have to die!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with her apron before her +face). I told you about Antoinette! For she is at the bottom of it! I'll stake +my head on that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Don't torture me, Aunt Clara!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. She is at the bottom of it! +And I, in my stupidity, cap the climax by leaving the two of you alone at the +funeral day before yesterday.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I shall be grateful to you for +that all of my life, Aunt Clara!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. My notion was for you to +have a little talk together, and then to think what it has led to! May God +forgive what I have done.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (partly to himself). She promised +me to come. And she is not coming! She promised me to write. And she does not +write. Not a word. Not the remotest token! How do I know, but everything was a +delusion? Childish fancy and nothing more? The intoxication of a moment which +seized her and vanished again when she sat in her sleigh and rode away in the +winter night? Do I know? (He puts his hand to his head.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (very uneasy). Paul, what +are you talking about? <i>Tell</i> me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (jumps up without listening to +her). No!... Then farewell Ellernhof! Farewell my home and everything!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Do be quiet! What in the +world is the matter?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (walks up and down impatiently, +stops again, speaks to himself in an undertone). At that time I deceived her, +deceived her without knowing and wishing to. What if she deceives me now? What +if she pays me back? (He sinks down in the chair near the fireplace in violent +conflict with himself.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (in despair). What a +calamity! What a calamity!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (as if shaking something off). No! +No! No!... it cannot but come out right. (Heaves a sigh of relief.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (joyful again). Do you see, +my boy?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gloomily). Don't rejoice +prematurely, Auntie! It seems to me that this house fosters misfortune! All that +you need to do is to look at those faces! They all have a suggestion of +melancholy and gloom. (He looks up at the portraits pensively.) Just as if the +sun had never shone into their hearts, you know. No air of hopefulness, no +suggestion of light and freedom! So chained to the earth! So savagely taciturn? +Can that be due to the air and soil? It will probably assert itself in me too, +after I have been here for some time. Possibly it would have been better, +Auntie, if I had never returned to this house! I should have continued that life +of mine, not cold, not warm, not happy, not unhappy! I should never have found +out what I have really missed and yet can never find. Possibly it would have +been better. [Short pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lene</span> (opens the door at the right and +stands in the door). The inspector is here, sir. Shall he come in? He is +lunching just now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gets up). No, never mind. One +moment, Auntie! (He nods to her and goes out with <span class="sc">Lene</span>. )</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> shakes her head +apprehensively as she follows him with her eyes, heaves a deep sigh, occupies +herself with this and that in the room, then seems to be listening to a noise on +the left. She straightens up energetically. Presently the door on the left is +opened.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (enters, dressed in black. She +looks solemn and rather pale. She slowly approaches <span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. +The two face each other and eye each other for a moment). I thought Paul was +here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Paul will surely be back +any minute.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Will he? Then I shall wait. (She +turns around and starts for the window.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (hesitates a moment, then +with a sudden effort). Madam ... Doctor ...? (Takes a step in the direction of <span class="sc"> +Hella</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (looks around surprised). Were +you saying something?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (erect). Keep an eye on +Paul, madam!... That's all I have to say!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (approaches). How so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. I am simply saying, keep an +eye on Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (steps up to her, with a +searching look). <i>What</i> is going on?...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>, Talk to him yourself. I +can't fathom it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Then I will tell you. Do you +think I am blind? Do you suppose that I am unable to see through the situation +here? I know Paul and I know you, all of you who are turning Paul's head!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (angered). Mercy me! <i>I</i>, +turn Paul's head!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, you, and all of you around +here! I will tell you to your face! You are trying to set Paul against me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (with increasing +excitement). I never set nobody against no one! Nobody ever said such a thing +about me! God knows! You are the first person to do that! And on top of it all, +I have the best intentions! I even want to help you! Well, I do say ...! (Takes +several steps through the hall.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with contemptuous laughter). You +help me?... H'm! You wanted to get rid of me, and that is why you started all +this about the estate, and staying here, and who knows <i>what</i> else. But I +declare to you, once and for all! Don't go to any trouble! You will not succeed +in parting Paul and me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (in spite of herself). May +be not I!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. <i>Not you</i>?... Oh indeed!... +Not you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (continuing in her anger). +No! Not I! Of course not! Even if you have deserved it, ten times over!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (also continues her lead). Not +you?... Well, well! So it's some other woman! (She steps up before <span class="sc"> +Aunt Clara</span>. ) Some other woman is trying to separate us, Paul and me? Is +that it? Yes or no?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (frightened). I haven't said +a thing. I know nothing about it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (triumphantly). I thought so! And +now I grasp the whole situation!... That accounts for Paul's behavior, this +strange behavior! Well, well! (She walks to and fro excitedly, speaks partly to +herself.) But you shall not succeed! No, no! (Addressing <span class="sc">Aunt +Clara</span> again.) You shall not succeed! We'll just see who knows Paul +better, you or I!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (very seriously). Madam, I +am an old woman, you may believe me or not, I tell you, don't carry matters too +far with Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (reflecting again). So it was +she?... The Polish woman, of course! Didn't I know it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (almost threatening). Don't +carry matters too far! Remember what I say.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with a sudden change). Where is +Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (anxiously). What is the +matter?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (very calmly and firmly). I must +speak to Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span>. Merciful God! Now I see it +coming!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, I am going away and Paul is +going with me. That is the end of the whole matter. I suppose that is not just +exactly what you had expected.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (petrified). And you are +going to desert Ellernhof!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It will be a long time before +the estate sees us again. Prepare for that. As for the rest, we shall see later.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (turns away). Then I might +as well order my grave at once, the sooner the better.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with an air of superiority). +Don't worry! You will be cared for.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (straightening up). Not a +soul needs to care for me henceforth, madam! My way is quite clear to me. It +will not be very long. Look at the men and women on these walls, they all +followed this course. Now I shall emulate their example. What is coming now is +no longer suitable for me. (She slowly steps to the door with head bowed).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (partly to herself). No, what is +coming now is the new world and new men and women! (She stands and reflects for +a moment, then resolutely.) New men and women! Yes! Yes, we are ready to fight +for that! (She clasps her hands vigorously, suggesting inflexible resolution.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (enters from the right, comes upon <span class="sc"> +Aunt Clara</span>, who is going out). What ails you, Auntie? How you do look!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Aunt Clara</span> (shakes her head). Don't ask +me, my boy. I have lived my life! (She goes out slowly and closes the door.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (steps to the fireplace pondering +deeply and drops down in a chair). What did she say?... Lived my life?... A +soothing phrase! A cradle-song! No more pain, no more care! All over!... Lived +my life! (Supports his head on his hand.)</p> +<p class="right">[Short pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (steps up to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>, lays her hand on his shoulder and says kindly). Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Be a man, Paul! I beg of you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks up, with a deep breath). +That is just what I intend to do.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. For two days you have been +walking around without saying a word. That surely cannot continue.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That <i>will</i> not continue, I +am sure.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why don't you speak? What have I +done to you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). You to me?... Nothing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. See here, Paul, I stayed here on +your account, longer than I had intended and than seems justifiable to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why did you? I did not ask you +again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Quite right. I did it of my own +accord. Now don't you think that counts for more, Paul? (She closely draws up a +chair and sits down facing <span class="sc">Paul</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Up to the day before yesterday <i> +anything</i> would have counted with me. Today no longer, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (eagerly). I remained because I +kept in mind that it might be agreeable to you to have me near you. I have given +you time to come to yourself again. I know very well what is going on in you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hardly!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Indeed, Paul, indeed! You have +seen the soil of your boyhood home again. You have buried your father. I +understand your crisis completely.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Really! All at once!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. From the very beginning!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I did not realize very much of +it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (interrupting him). Simply +because I thought it would be best to let you settle that for yourself. That is +why I have not interfered; allowed you to go your own way, these days. (<span class="sc">Paul</span> +shrugs his shoulders and is silent.) Does all this fail to convince you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (distressed). Drop that, Hella.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (excited). What does this mean, +Paul! We must have an understanding!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That is no longer possible for +us, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It certainly has been, up to the +present. How often we have quarreled in these years, and sailed into each other, +and we have always found our way back to each other again for the simple reason +that we belong together! Why in the world should that be impossible now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (struggles with himself; jumps +up). Because ... Because ... (Groping for words.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has become calm). Well, +because?... Possibly because I did not care to stay down here, day before +yesterday, did not dine with your guests when you asked me to do so? Is that it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That and many other things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (gets up). Paul, don't be petty! +I really can't bear to hear you talk in this manner. Are you so completely +unable to enter into my feelings? I could not share your sorrow. Your father did +not give me any occasion for that. I do not wish to speak ill of him, but I +cannot forget it. After all, that is only human!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. So the dead man stands between +us. Why don't you say so frankly!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. If you insist, yes. At least, +for the moment! I was not able to stay with you. I <i>had</i> to be alone.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then blame yourself for the +consequences! You deserted me at a moment when simply everything was unsettling +me ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (interrupts him). Oh, you suppose +I don't know what you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (excited). Well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Shall I tell you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controlling himself with +difficulty). Please!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (triumphantly). Dear Paul! Just +recall the lady with the ashy-blonde hair, for a moment!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embarrassed). What lady?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, Paul? The one with whom I +saw you after the banquet, day before yesterday. Your aunt was there too, wasn't +she?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (affecting surprise). You seem to +refer to Madam von Laskowski.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (smiling). Quite right. The +Polish beauty! Was it not that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (beside himself). Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (as before). Don't become +furious, Paul! There's no occasion at all for that! I am not reproaching you in +the least! On the contrary, I am of the opinion that you were quite right!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (comes nearer, plants himself +before her). What are you trying to say? What does all this mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with a very superior air). We +had quarreled, you were furious, wanted to revenge yourself, looked about for a +fitting object and naturally hit upon ... whom?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns away). Why it's simply +idiotic to continue answering such questions! (He walks through the hall +excitedly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Hit upon whom?... With the kind +of taste that you do seem to have ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hella, I object to that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, I am absolutely serious, +Paul! You can't expect me to question your taste! I should compromise my own +position. No, no, I really agree with you, of all those present she was +decidedly the most piquant. The typical beauty that appeals to men! Of course +you hit upon her, probably courted her, lavished compliments upon her, all the +things that you men do when you suppose that you are in the presence of an +inferior woman ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hella, now restrain yourself! Or +I may tell you something ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Very well, let us even suppose +that you fell in love with her for the time and she with you, that you went into +ecstasy over each other and turned each other's heads, then you parted and the +next day the intoxication passed off, and, if not on the next day, then on the +following one ... Am I not right? Do you expect me to be jealous of such a thing +as that? No, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (in supreme excitement, struggling +with himself). You are a demon! A demon!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has become serious). I am your +friend, Paul! Believe me! I desire nothing but your own good, simply because I +care for you and because, I'll be frank with you, I should not want to lose you. +You may be convinced of it, Paul, conceited as it may sound, but you will never +find another woman like me! One with whom you can share everything! I don't know +what you may have said to the Polish woman or what she may have said to you, but +do you really suppose that she still knows about that today, even though the +most fervent vows were exchanged?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (jumps up). Hella, Hella, you do +not know what you are saying.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Would you teach me to know my +own sex? They aren't all like me, dear Paul. You have been spoiled by me. Very +few, indeed, have attained maturity as yet, or even know what they are doing. +You can depend upon very few of them. It seems to me that we are in the best +possible position to know that, Paul, after our years of work. And I am to fear +<i>such</i> competition? Expect me to be jealous of a Polish country beauty? +Me,—Hella Bernhardy!... No, Paul, I have been beyond that type of jealousy for +some time! (She walks up and down slowly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stands at the window, struggling +with himself). Would it not be better to say that you have <i>never</i> had it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Possibly! There are some who +consider that an advantage.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Theorists, yes! The kind that <i> +I</i> was, once upon a time. But now I know better! Now I know that the absence +of jealousy was nothing but an absence of love.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (energetically). That is not +true, Paul. I always cared for you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Cared! Cared! A fine word!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>, Why should you demand more than +that? I respected you, Paul, valued you as my best friend!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. All but a little word, a little +word ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. What is that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Imagine!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I know what you are thinking of! +I am not a friend of strong words, but if you insist upon hearing it, I have <i> +loved</i> you too!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You ... <i>me</i>!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, I have loved you, Paul, for +what you were, the unselfish idealist ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bitterly). Oh, indeed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, Paul! Do not forget about +one thing! I am not one of these petty little women, to whom men are the alpha +and omega! If you assumed that, of course you have been mistaken.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. To be sure! And the mistake has +cost me my life!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You knew it beforehand, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Because I was blinded!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>, And yet I tell you, say what you +please, leave me for instance, but you will not find another woman who can +satisfy you after you have had me! I know it and will stake my life on it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you rate yourself so highly?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I am rating <i>you</i> highly, +Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (wavering). Do you mean to say I +am ruined for happiness?... Possibly you are right.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Whoever has once become +accustomed to the heights of life, will never again descend.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (repeats to himself). Will never +again descend.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You are too good for a woman of +the dead level! See here, Paul, I <i>have</i> at times made life a burden to +you, I now and then refused to enter upon many things just because my head was +full of ideas, possibly I have been too prone to disregard your emotional +nature.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hella, do not remind me of that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. We must come to an +understanding, Paul! All of that may be true. And there <i>shall</i> be a +change. There <i>will</i> be a change, that much I promise you today, but show +me the kindness, pack your things and come with me! Today rather than tomorrow! +(She has stepped up to him and places her hands on his shoulders.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (in the most violent conflict). +Hella! Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Look into my face, Paul! Are you +happy here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (lowers his head). Do not ask me, +Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (triumphantly). Then you are not! +Didn't I know it? I am proud of you for that, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (blurting out). Hella, do not +exult! I <i>cannot</i> go back again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (undaunted). Yes you can! Are +these people here meant for you? Do you mean to say that you are suited to these +peasants? You, with your refined instincts? You would think of degrading +yourself consciously! Nobody can do that, you least of all! I tell you once +more, you are too good for these rubes!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (frees himself from her). Give me +time till this evening, Hella! Then I will give you a full explanation!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (seizes his hand). Not thirty +minutes, Paul! You are to decide at once! As I have you at this moment, I shall +possibly never have you again. Pack your trunk and come with me! Have some one +manage the estate. We will go back tomorrow morning and begin the new life with +the new year. Thank your stars when you are once more out of this stuffy air. It +induces thoughts in you that can never make you happy. Say <i>yes</i>, Paul, say +that we are going!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has not listened to the last +words, listens to what is going on outside). Do you hear, Hella? (He frees +himself and goes to the foreground. One can hear people singing outside, +accompanied by a deep-toned instrument.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (impatiently). What in the world +is that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I have an idea, the people of the +estate, coming to proclaim Saint Sylvester, (The door at the right is opened.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (enters, makes a sign +suggesting silence, points toward the outside). Do you hear that instrument, +madam? That's what they call a pot harp, very interesting!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (as before). Interesting or not. +Why must you disturb us just now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (offended). If I had known +this, I should not have come! (About to go out.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (quite cold again). Stay right +here, dear Glyszinski! You haven't disturbed us up to the present! I do not see +that you are disturbing us now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector</span> (comes in through the open +door). Sir, the people are outside with the pot harp and want to sing their +song.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (annoyed). Oh, tell them to go +and be done with it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (quickly). No, please, Hella, that +won't do. That is an old custom here on New Year's eve. Let them sing their +song. Besides, I like to hear it. I heard it many a time in my boyhood days.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector</span>. Shall I leave the door open, +sir?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Please! (He sits down at the +fireplace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (steps up to him, with a voice +that betrays excitement). Paul, do not listen to that nonsense out there! Don't +let them muddle your head!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. My head is clearer than ever, +Hella! Don't go to any further trouble! I can see my way quite plainly now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"> +<span class="sc">Hella</span> (retreats to the sofa, embittered). And now that +old trumpery must interfere too!</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Inspector</span> stands at the door with <span class="sc"> +Glyszinski</span>, motions to those outside. A brief silence, then singing to +the accompaniment of the pot harp. The lines run as follows:]</p> +<div style="margin-left:6em"> +<p class="continue">We wish our dear lord<br> + At his board, a full dish,<br> + And at all four corners<br> + A brown roasted fish:<br> + A crown for our dame;<br> + When the year's course is run<br> + The joy of all joys,<br> + A lusty young son.</p> +</div> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Will that continue much longer, +Paul?</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Paul</span> gets up, motions to the inspector +and goes out with him. The door is closed behind them. The muffled tones of the +pot harp and the singing can still be heard, but the text becomes +unintelligible. <span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>, who also has been listening +till now, starts to go out.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (from the sofa). One moment, +Doctor!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (absent-minded). Were you +calling me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Why, yes, now that you are here, +I might as well make use of the occasion.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (approaches, somewhat +reserved). What can I do for you, madam?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Dear friend, do not be startled. +We shall have to part.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (staggering). Part? We?...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (calmly). Yes, Doctor, it must +be!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Why, who compels us to? No +one!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (frigidly). My <i>decision</i> +compels us, dear friend! Is that sufficient for you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (whimpering). Your decision, +Hella? You are cruel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, I myself am sorry, of +course. I shall probably miss you quite frequently!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (as before). Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Especially in connection with my +correspondence. You have certainly been a real help to me there. I shall have to +carry that burden alone again, now. But what is to be done about it? No other +course is possible. We must part.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. But why? At least, give me +a reason! Don't turn me out in this fashion.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It is necessary on account of my +husband, dear friend! I must make this sacrifice for him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (raging). The monster! (He +paces through the hall wildly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with clarity). You know, it +cannot be denied that Paul can't bear you, that he is always annoyed when he +sees you ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. Do you suppose the reverse +is not true?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, you men are exasperating. +No one can eradicate your jealousy! <i>That</i> makes an unconstrained +intercourse impossible! But what is to be done? Paul is my husband, <i>not you</i>. +And so I am compelled to request you to yield.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> (with his hands raised). +Kill me, Hella, but don't turn me out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (wards him off). A pleasant +journey. <i>You</i> will be able to find comfort.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. I shall be alone, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (straightening up). All of us +are!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span>. May I ever see you again, +Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Possibly later! And now go! I do +not care to have my husband find you here when he comes. Why here he is now. +(She pushes him over toward the right, the door has been opened and the singing +has ceased in the meantime.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has entered, sees Glyszinski, +frigidly). Are you still here? If you wish to talk together, I'll go out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (comes over to <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>). Please stay, Paul! </p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> has just been telling me +that he is going to take the night train back to Berlin and he is asking you for +a sleigh. Isn't that it, Doctor? (<span class="sc">Glyszinski</span> nods +silently, passes by <span class="sc">Paul</span> and goes out at the right.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (frigidly). What's the use of this +farce?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (places her hand on his +shoulder). Not a farce, Paul! It is really true! When we get to Berlin tomorrow +evening, you will no longer find Glyszinski at our rooms! Are you satisfied now? +Have I finally succeeded in pleasing you, you grumbler!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns away, clenching his fists +nervously). Oh, well!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Look into my face, Paul, old +comrade! Tell me if you are pleased with your comrade. (<span class="sc">Paul</span> +is silent.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (frowning). Now isn't that a +proof to you of my fidelity and sincerity?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do not torment me, Hella. My +decision is final!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (worried). I don't know what you +mean! Surely the matter is settled. We are going, aren't we? (She looks at him +anxiously.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (frees himself from her). That is +not settled! I shall <i>remain</i>! [A moment of silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (furiously). You are going to +remain?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (curtly). I shall remain ... And +no power on earth will swerve me from my purpose! Not even you, Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (plants herself before him). Are +you trying to play the part of the stronger sex? Eye to eye, Paul! No evasions +now! Are you playing the farce of the stronger sex?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I do what I must do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. What you must?... Well so must <i> +I</i>.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (bows his head). I know that, and +I am not hindering you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (reflects a moment, then). And do +you realize that that practically means separation for us?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I have already told you, Hella, I +am prepared for anything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (looks at him sharply; with quick +decision). And what if I stay also, Paul, what then?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. (is startled). If you also ...? +You are not serious about that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Assume that I am!... If I should +remain also, for your sake? (She stands before him erectly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (furiously). Don't jest, Hella! It +is not the proper moment!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I am certainly not jesting! I am +your wife! I shall keep you company. <i>Aren't</i> you pleased with that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (straightens up). The dead man +stands between us, as you have said. Very well, let that be final! You have +wished it so! The bond between us is broken. We have come to the parting of our +ways. (He goes to the left, opens the door and walks out slowly. Deep twilight +has set in.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (stands rigidly and whispers to +herself). To the parting of our ways? (Waking up, with a wild defiance.) If I <i> +consent</i>, I say!... If I consent!</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_220" href="#pixRef_220"><img src="images/pg220.png" alt="Sheep"></a></p> +<p class="center">SHEEP</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT V</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">A room in the garden house. The door in the background leads +out-doors. There are windows at both sides of the door and also in the right +wall. They all look out upon the garden, but are draped with long, heavy +curtains. On the left a door leads into the bedroom. On the same side farther +back a tile stove. A divan, table and chair, very near the stove. Bookshelves +along the walls. The general impression is that of simple comfort.</p> + +<p class="hang1">It is evening, a short time after the preceding act. A lamp is +burning on the table and lights up the no more than fair-sized cozy room.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> appears in the open +door at the background. Before him stands <span class="sc">Paul</span>. </p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. As I was saying, have the bay +saddled in case I should still want to take a ride.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Very well, sir! +Immediately?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. In about thirty minutes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Shall the coachman +bring out the bay or will you come to the stable?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Have it brought out! Good-by. (He +comes back into the room.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. Good night, sir! (He +withdraws and closes the door behind him.)</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Paul</span> walks up and down excitedly +several times. He seems to be in a violent struggle with himself, sometimes +listens for something outside, shakes his head, groans deeply, finally throws +himself on the divan and crosses his arms under his head. Short pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (opens the door in the +background, enters and looks around). Are you here, Paul? (She has thrown a +shawl around her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (jumps up, disappointed). Hella, +you? (Sits down.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (approaches). Yes, it is I, +Hella! Who else? Were you expecting some one else?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (painfully). Why do you still +insist upon coming? Don't make it unnecessarily hard for both of us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (calmly). I am waiting for an +explanation from you. Since you will not give it to me of your own accord, I am +compelled to get it. It seems to me I have a right to claim it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You certainly have.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with folded arms). Please, then!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hella, what is the purpose of +this? You do know everything now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I know nothing. I should like to +find out from you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (gets up). Very well, then I will +tell you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I assume that the Polish woman +is mixed up in this affair.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. So you do know! Why in the world +are you going to the trouble of asking me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. So it's really true? I am to +stand aside for a little goose from the country!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>(starts up). A little goose from +the country?... Hella, control your tongue!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (walks up and down). If it were +not so ridiculous, it would be exasperating!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. The woman under discussion is not +a little goose from the country, my dear, just as little as you are one from the +city.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Thank you for your flattering +comparison.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That woman has had her struggles +and trials as much as you have, and in spite of it has remained a woman, which <i> +you</i> have <i>not</i>!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (scornfully). Well, well. Are you +now asserting your real nature? Are you throwing off the mask? Go on! Go on!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controls himself with an effort). +That is all! I am only standing up for one who is dear to me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Ha, ha! Dear! Today and +tomorrow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You are mistaken, Hella! I +believe in Antoinette, and I shall not swerve from that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with a sudden inspiration). +Antoinette ... Antoinette ... Why that name ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Let me assist you, Hella. +Antoinette is the friend of my youth ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (nonplussed). The friend of your +youth?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, Indeed, Hella, I have known her +longer than I have known you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. The one whom you were to marry +once upon a time? Is it she?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sadly). Whom I was to marry, whom +I refused on your account, Hella.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You met <i>her</i> again here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. As Mrs. von Laskowski, yes, +Hella!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (starts for him, with a savage +expression). And you kept that from me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Why you did not give me a chance +to speak, when I tried to tell you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. So that was the confidence you +had! Well, of course, then, of course!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Oh, my confidence, Hella! Don't +mention that. That had died long before!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. To be deceived so shamefully.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Blame yourself! You have killed +it systematically!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I? What else, pray tell!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Yes, by forever considering only +yourself and never me! That could not help but stifle all my feelings in time. I +fought against it as long as I could, Hella, but it had to come to an end some +time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. And I went about without +misgivings, while behind my back a conspiracy was forming ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shrugging his shoulders). Who +conspired?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. All of you! This whole owl's +nest of a house was in league against me! You had conspired against me, you and +your ilk, simply because I was superior to you, that's the reason why you wanted +to shoulder me off! Do you suppose I don't realize that? Very well, let baseness +prevail! I am willing to retreat!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. It always has been your trick, +Hella, to play the part of offended innocence! It is well that you are reminding +me of that in this hour! You are making the step easier for me than I had hoped.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. This is the thanks!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Thanks!... How in the world could +you expect thanks?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with infuriated hatred). Because +I made a <i>human being</i> +of you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (starting up). Hella, you are +making use of <i>words</i>!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (beside herself). Yes, made a <i> +human</i> being of you. I will repeat it ten times over!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Won't you kindly call in the +whole estate with your shrieking.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. The whole world, for all I care! +What were you when you came into my hands? A crude student, utterly helpless, +whom I directed into the proper channels, <i>I</i>, single handed! Without me +you would have gone to the dogs or you might have become one of those novelists +whom no one reads! I was the first one to put sound ideas in your head, roused +your talent and pointed out to you all that is really <i>demanded</i>. Through +me you attained a name and reputation, and now that you are fortunate enough to +be that far along, you go and throw yourself away upon a Polish goose, you ... +you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (as if under a lash). There are +limits to all things, Hella, even to consideration for your sex! Do not assume +that you still have me in your power. It has lasted fifteen years. It is over +today. Do you suppose I ought to thank you for sapping everything from me, my +will-power, my strength, my real talents, all the faith in love and beauty that +was once in me, which you have systematically driven out with your infernal +leveling process? Where shall I ever find a trace of all that again? I might +seek for a hundred years and not strike that path again! I might have become an +artist, at life or art itself, who cares! And you have made me a beggar, a +machine, that reels off its uniform sing-song day after day! You have cheated me +out of my life, you imp!... Give it back to me! (He stands before her, breathing +heavily, struggling for air.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has become quite calm). Why did +you <i>allow</i> yourself to be cheated. It's your own fault!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (suddenly calm, but sad and +resigned). That is a profound word, Hella! Why have you ... <i>allowed</i> ... +yourself to be cheated!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You had your will-power just as +I had mine. Why did you not make use of it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. <i>You</i>, with your ideas, +would say <i>that</i>, Hella?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Yes, <i>one</i> or the other is +stronger, of course! Why should we women not be stronger?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns away). That is sufficient, +Hella. We are through with each other. There is nothing more to say.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. As you may decide. So it is +really all over between us?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (stands in deep thought and +murmurs to himself). Why did you +<i>allow</i> yourself to be cheated? Terrible! Terrible! Why must this +conviction come too late?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (in a lurking manner). I suppose +you are going to the other woman now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (breathes a deep sigh of relief). +We are going together!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (with a sudden inspiration). If I <i> +release</i> you, you mean!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (quite calmly). I suppose you will +be <i>compelled</i> to!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (triumphantly). Who can compel +me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (starts up). Hella, then ... Then +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Well? Then?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (controls himself, with a strange +expression). Then we shall see who is the stronger. (The door in the background +has been opened.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (has entered quickly, starts +at seeing <span class="sc">Hella</span>, stops in the background and sags, in a +subdued voice). Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (turns around frightened, exclaims +passionately). Antoinette! (He rushes up to her, about to embrace her. She turns +him aside gently and looks at <span class="sc">Hella</span>. The two press each +other's hands firmly and look into each other's eyes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (softly). I am here, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Thank you, thank you, dear!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (has recovered from her +astonishment and starts for Antoinette, savagely). Who <i>are</i> you, and what +do you want here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (steps between them, very +seriously). Hella ... If you please ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (restrains <span class="sc"> +Paul</span>, with a quiet, distinguished bearing). I am not afraid, Paul. Just +continue, madam.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (furiously). Who has given you +the right to intrude here?</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Paul</span> has retreated a little in +response to <span class="sc">Antoinette's</span> + entreating glance.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Ask yourself, madam. Who +was here earlier, you or I?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (turns away abruptly). I shall +not quarrel with you, I shall simply show you the door!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Well, well. We are standing on <i> +my</i> soil now, Hella! Remember that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (infuriated). Oh, I suppose you +are insisting upon your rights!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, Why I simply must. You are +forcing me to do so!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Very well. I am doing that very +thing!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (clenches his fists). Really now! +You will not change your mind?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I will not change my mind. I +shall not release you. Now do as you please!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You will not release me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. No!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>, (beside himself). You!... You!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Be quiet, dear! No mortal +can interfere with us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. How affectionate! You probably +suppose that you have him +<i>already</i>? That I shall simply go and your happiness is complete! Don't +deceive yourself! You shall not enjoy happiness when I am compelled to battle.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Did I not battle?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Your little battle. Simply +because you did not happen to get the man that you wanted! We have had battles +of quite other dimensions!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Do not believe for a moment +that you have a right to look down upon me! I shall pick up your gauntlet in the +things that really count.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. You? My gauntlet? Ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You <i>too</i> are only a +woman, just as I am, and although you may rate yourself ever so much higher, you +will remain a woman nevertheless!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Woman or not! I shall show you +with whom you have to deal! I shall not retreat and that settles it! Under the +law, you shall never get each other. Now show your courage.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I shall show you my +courage!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. Dare to do so without the law! +Bear the consequences! Suffer yourself to be cast out by all the world! Have +them point their fingers at you! That is the absconded wife who is living with a +run-away husband! Take that ban upon you! Do you see now? <i>I</i> should. I +should scorn the whole world! Can you do the same?</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> bows her head and is +silent.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span> (triumphantly). You can't do +that! I knew it very well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (composed). What I can and +what I cannot do is in the hand of God. That is all that I have to say to you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. That is all I need to know! I +wish you a happy life!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has been restraining himself, +steps up to <span class="sc">Hella</span>). Hella, one last word!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It has been spoken!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you remember what we agreed to +do once upon a time?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I don't remember anything now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Hella, remember! On our wedding +day we agreed, if either one of us, from an honest conviction, should demand his +freedom, he should have it, our compact should be ended. That occasion is here. +Remember!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. I don't remember a thing now. <i> +You</i> certainly do not.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Don't say another word, +dear!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Hella</span>. It would certainly do no good! +Good-by! As for the rest, we shall see!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. We shall.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Hella</span> goes out with head erect and +closes the door behind her. Pause. <span class="sc">Paul</span> and <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span> stand face to face for a moment and look into each other's +eyes.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (morosely). Now the bridges are +burned behind us!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. They are, dear. Do you +realize it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. What now? What now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (sinks upon his breast). +Paul! My Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (embraces her, presses her to him +fervently. They embrace in silence, then he draws her down beside him on the +divan, and looks at her affectionately). It was a long time before you came, +Toinette.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. But now I am here, and +shall leave you no more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You will not leave me, beloved?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I shall never leave you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And I shall not leave you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. And you will not leave me. +(They embrace each other.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (straightens up). Why did you stay +so long, Toinette?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Much was to be set in +order, dear.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I was almost beginning to doubt +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You wicked man. Then I +should have been forced to go alone.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Alone? Where would you have gone, +you poor, helpless, little soul</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Do not think that! I have +the thing that will help me. That is why I am so late!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (shrinking). Antoinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (smiling). Don't be +frightened, dear! Two drops and all is over.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (has risen). You would?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (gently). Yes, I will. Are +you going with me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Toinette! Toinette! (Walks +through the room excitedly.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Think of her words, she +will not release you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Is Hella right? You <i>haven't</i> +the courage?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (passionately). Courage I +have, Paul. To the very end!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Very well, then we shall +undertake it in spite of them all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (excited). The absconded +wife! The runaway husband! Did you forget those words? Those terrible words! +They keep on ringing in my ears. Are we to live in the scorn of people. I +cannot, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. You do not <i>want</i> to.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No, I <i>do</i> not want +to! I do not care to descend into the mire! I have hated it all of my life. They +shall not be able to reproach us for anything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (in passionate excitement). Is it +to be? Is it to be? (<span class="sc">Antoinette</span>nods silently).</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (suddenly overcome with emotion, +falls upon his knees before +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> and presses his head to her bosom). Kiss me, +kiss me, beloved!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (puts her arms around him). +Here on your brow, my lover! Are you content? (She kisses his brow.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Content in life or death. (He +gets up, sits down beside +<span class="sc">Antoinette</span> and looks at her). Are you weeping, +sweetheart?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (lowers her head, gently). +Why, you are, too, Paul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (passes his hand over his eyes). +All over! Tell me what you think now, dear!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (also controlling her +tears). It is this, dear, our time is short. I rode away from my husband! He was +riding ahead of me in the sleigh. I had told him that I would follow and I +mounted my horse and came to you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (puts his arms around her). +Courageous soul! Rode through the forest?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Right on through the +forest. The sun was already going down, when I set out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. The sun of New Year's Eve ... Did <i> +you</i> see it too?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. When it was down, the +gloaming afforded me light, and later the snow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sadly with a touch of +roguishness). Dearest, when the sun is down, there is nothing left to give +light.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Indeed, my beloved, indeed! +Then come the stars. They are finer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you believe in the stars?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. You heretic, I believe!...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Still believe in heaven and hell?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. No longer for us. For us, +the stars.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you think so? For us?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. For us and lovers such as +we are!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. How do you know that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Since I have you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then I believe it too!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. My friend! My beloved! My +life! (She presses him to her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. My beloved! My wife! [Blissful +silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (straightens up). Don't you +hear steps? (She listens.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (also listens). Where, pray tell.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (has risen). Out in the +garden. It seemed so to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I hear nothing. All is still.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (leans upon him). I am +afraid, Paul.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Afraid? Of what?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. That he will come and get +me. Our time is short.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Then I will protect you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Paul, I don't want to see +him again! I don't want to see another soul!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her with glowing eyes). +How beautiful you are now, Toinette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Am I beautiful? Am I +beautiful. For you, my Paul, for you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. For me. (He puts his arms around +her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (proudly). I am still +beautiful and young and yet I shall cast it away. I am not afraid.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (his arms about her). We are not +afraid!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Out into night and death +together with you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. It is not worth living! We have +realized that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (looks up at him, smiling). +Haven't we, Paul, we two lost creatures? (In each other's embrace, they are +silent for a moment.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (roguishly). Do you +remember, dear, what you used to do when you were a little boy?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. No, sweetheart, tell me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Try to recall, dear. What +did you do when your mother gave us bread and cake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. I took the bread first, is that +what you mean, and then finished up with the cake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (shakes her finger at him). +Kept the cake for the end, you crafty fellow!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (is forced to laugh). Kept the +best part for the end! Yes that's what I did.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (on his breast). Just wait, +you rogue. Now I'll make you answer. Tell me, what am <i>I</i> now, bread or +cake!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. My last, my best, my all, that's +what you are to me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. There can be no joy beyond +this. Shall we become old and gray and withered? Come, my dear, come!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (looks at her for a long time). Do +you know of what you remind me now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Of what, Paul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. That is just the way you stood in +our park when you were a girl, out there under the alders, and beckoned to me +when you wanted me to come and play with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (beckoning roguishly). Come +on, Paul. Come on. Isn't that it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Just so! Just so!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Catch me, Paulie!... Catch +me! (She runs to the left, opens the door and remains standing.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (runs after her and seizes her). +Now I have you, you rogue?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (in his arms). Have me and +hold me fast!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. New Year's Eve! New Year's +Eve!... Is it here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. It's no longer necessary +for us to cast lead to find out how long we are to live. We know!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Soon we shall know nothing!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Soon we shall know all!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. On your stars, do you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (nods). On our star, my +lover, you and I shall meet again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. There we shall meet again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (starts, and listens). Do +you hear?</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> opens the door in the +background and stands in the door. <span class="sc">Paul</span> and <span class="sc"> +Antoinette</span> let go of each other, keeping their places.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. The bay is bridled, +sir, and stands out here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (has an inspiration). The +bay bridled? Is my gray there, too?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span>. It is, madam!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. Very well. Stay with the +horses. We shall be there immediately!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Inspector Zindel</span> withdraws.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (astonished). What is it, dear? +What do you intend to do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (with frantic passion). To +our horses, dearest! To our horses!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (incredulously). Out into the +world, after all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (with a wild fervor). Out +with you into the night ... the night of Saint Sylvester!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (sadly). Stay here, Toinette! Why +begin the farce anew! Let it end upon this soil, that nurtured our childhood!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span> (imploring). Come, dearest, +to our horses! Let us ride to my home.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. To your home?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. To Rukkoschin, the house of +my fathers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Do you wish to go there?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. I wish to see it once more!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. And then we shall be ready?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. The house lies secluded and +empty and dead.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span>. Only the spirits of your fathers +are stirring.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. But I know of one room +where I played as a child, that has suffered no change.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (overcome). To our horses! To our +horses!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Antoinette</span>. The night is clear. Many +thousands of stars will light the way. We shall ride through the forest. Right +across the lake. The ice is firm.</p> +<p class="right">[She draws him out.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Paul</span> (with a gesture toward the +outside). Farewell, Hella! Your reign is over!... We are returning to Mother +Earth! (They depart through the door in the background.)</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_hofmannsthal" href="#div1Ref_hofmannsthal">HUGO VON HOFMANNSTHAL</a></h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div2_sobeide" href="#div2Ref_sobeide">THE MARRIAGE OF SOBEIDE</a></h2> + +<h2><span class="sc">A Dramatic Poem</span></h2> + + +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h3> + + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">A Wealthy Merchant</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>, <i>his young wife</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Bachtjar</span>, <i>the Jeweler</i>, +<span class="sc">Sobeide's</span> <i>father</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Sobeide's Mother</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Shalnassar</span>, <i>the Carpet-dealer</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>, <i>his son</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">GÜlistane</span>, <i>a ship-captain's widow</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>An Armenian Slave</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>An old Camel-driver</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>A Gardener</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>His wife</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Bahram</span>, <i>Servant of the</i> +<span class="sc">Merchant</span></p> +<p class="continue"><i>A Debtor of</i> <span class="sc">Shalnassar</span></p> + + +<p class="center">An old city in the Kingdom of Persia</p> + +<p class="center">The time is the evening and the night after the wedding-feast +of the wealthy merchant.</p> + +<div style="margin-right:11em"> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>THE MARRIAGE OF SOBEIDE (1899)</h2> + +<h3>TRANSLATED BY BAYARD QUINCY MORGAN, PH.D.</h3> +<h3>Assistant Professor of German, University of Wisconsin</h3> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">Sleeping chamber in the house of the wealthy <span class="sc"> +Merchant</span>. To the rear an alcove with dark curtains. To the left a door, +to the right a small door leading into the garden, and a window. Candles.</p> + +<p class="center">Enter the <span class="sc">Merchant</span> and his old +Servant, <span class="sc"><span class="sc">BAHRAM</span>. </span> </p> + + + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br>Speak, Bahram, gav'st thou +heed unto my bride?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br>Heed, in what sense!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> She is not cheerful, +Bahram.</p> + + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> She is a serious girl. +And 'tis a moment<br> + That sobers e'en the flightiest, remember.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br>Not she alone: the more I +bade them kindle<br> + Lights upon lights, the heavier hung a cloud<br> + About this wedding-feast. They smiled like masks,<br> + And I could catch the dark or pitying glances<br> + They flung to one another; and her father<br> + Would oft subside into a dark reflection,<br> + From which he roused himself with laughter forced,<br> + Unnatural.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> My Lord, our +common clay<br> + Endureth none too well the quiet splendor<br> + Of hours like these. We are but little used<br> + To aught but dragging through our daily round<br> + Of littleness. And on such high occasions<br> + We feel the quiet opening of a portal<br> + From which an unfamiliar, icy breath<br> + Our spirit chills, and warns us of the grave.<br> + As in a glass we then behold our own<br> + Forgotten likeness come into our vision,<br> + And easier 'twere to weep than to be merry.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> She tasted not a morsel +that thou placed<br> + Before her.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> Lord, her +modest maidenhood<br> + Was like a noose about her throat; but yet<br> + She ate some of the fruit.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +Yes, one small seed,<br> + I noticed that, 'twas a pomegranate seed.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> Then too she suddenly +bethought herself<br> + That wine, a blood-red flame in sparkling crystal,<br> + Before her stood, and raised the splendid goblet<br> + And drank as with a sudden firm resolve<br> + The half of it, so that the color flooded<br> + Her cheeks, and deep she sighed as with relief.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Methinks that was no +happy resolution.<br> + So acts the man who would deceive himself,<br> + And veils his glance, because the road affrights him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> Vain torments these: this +is but women's way.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (looks about the room, +smiles).<br> + A mirror, too, I see thou hast provided.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> Thine own command, the +mirror is thy mother's,<br> + Brought hither from her chamber with the rest.<br> + And thou thyself didst bid me, just this one ...</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> What, did I so? It was a +moment, then,<br> + When I was shrewder than I am just now.<br> + Yes, yes, a youthful bride must have a mirror.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> Now I will go to fetch +your mother's goblet<br> + And bring the cooling evening drink.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +Ah yes,<br> + Go, my good Bahram, fetch the evening drink. +<p class="right">[Exit <span class="sc">BAHRAM</span>. ]</p> +<p style="margin-left:7em;">Thou mirror of my mother, dwells no glimmer<br> + In thee of her sweet pallid smile, to rise<br> + As from the dewy mirror of a well-spring?<br> + Her smile, the faintest, loveliest I have known,<br> + Was like the flutter of a tiny birdling,<br> + That sleeps its last upon the hollowed hand. +<p class="right">[Stands before the mirror.]</p> +<p style="margin-left:7em;">No, naught but glass. Too long it empty stood.<br> + Only a face that does not smile—my own.<br> + My Self, beheld with my own eyes, so vacant<br> + As if one glass but mirrored forth another,<br> + Unconscious.—Oh for higher vision yet,<br> + For but one moment infinitely brief,<br> + To see how stands upon <i>her</i> spirit's mirror<br> + My image! Is't an old man she beholds?<br> + Am I as young as oft I deem myself,<br> + When in the silent night I lie and listen<br> + To hear my blood surge through its winding course?<br> + Is it not being young, to have so little<br> + Of rigidness or hardness in my nature?<br> + I feel as if my spirit, nursed and reared<br> + On nourishment so dreamlike, bloodless, thin,<br> + Were youthful still. How else should visit me<br> + This faltering feeling, just as in my boyhood,<br> + This strange uneasiness of happiness,<br> + As if 'twould slip each moment from my hands<br> + And fade like shadows? Can the old feel this?<br> + No, old men take the world for something hard<br> + And dreamless; what their fingers grasp and hold,<br> + They hold. While <i>I</i> am even now a-quiver<br> + With all this moment brings; no youthful monarch<br> + Were more intoxicated, when the breezes<br> + Should waft to him that cryptic word "possession."</p> +<p class="right">[He nears the window.]</p> +<p style="margin-left:7em;">Ah, lovely stars, are ye out there as ever?<br> + From out of this unstable mortal body<br> + To look upon your courses in your whirling<br> + Eternal orbits—that has been the food<br> + That bore with ease my years, until I thought<br> + I scarcely felt my feet upon the earth.<br> + And have I really withered, while my eyes<br> + Clung to yon golden suns, that do not wither?<br> + And have I learned of all the quiet plants,<br> + And marked their parts and understood their lives,<br> + And how they differ when upon the mountains,<br> + Or when by running streams we find them growing,—<br> + Almost a new creation, yet at bottom<br> + A single species; and with confidence<br> + Could say, this one does well, its food is pure,<br> + And lightly bears the burden of its leaves,<br> + But this through worthless soil and sultry vapors<br> + Has thickened stems, and bloated, swollen leaves ...<br> + And more ... and of myself I can know nothing,<br> + And heavy scales are crusted on my eyes,<br> + Impeding judgment ...</p> +<p class="hang5">[He hastily steps before the mirror again.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Soulless tool!<br> + Not like some books and men caught unawares:<br> + Thou never canst reveal the hidden truth<br> + As in a lightning flash.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span> (returning).<br> + My master.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +Well?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> The guests depart. The +father of thy bride<br> + And others have been asking after thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> And what of her?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Servant</span>. <br> She takes +leave of her parents.</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Merchant</span> stands a moment with staring<br> + eyes, then goes out at the door to the left<br> + with long strides. <span class="sc">Servant</span> follows him.<br> + The stage remains empty for a short time.<br> + Then the <span class="sc">Merchant</span> reënters, hearing a<br> + candelabrum which he places on the table<br> + beside the evening drink. <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> enters<br> + behind him, led by her father and mother.<br> + All stop in the centre of the room, somewhat<br> + to the left, the <span class="sc">Merchant</span> slightly removed<br> + from the rest. <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> gently releases<br> + herself. Her veil hangs down behind her.<br> + She wears a string of pearls in her hair,<br> + a larger one about her neck.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Father</span>. <br> From much in life I have +been forced to part.<br> + This is the hardest. My belovéd daughter,<br> + This is the day which I began to dread<br> + When still I saw thee smiling in thy cradle,<br> + And which has been my nightmare o'er and o'er.<br> +<p class="center">(To the <span class="sc">Merchant</span>. )</p> + <p class="hang4">Forgive me. She is more to me than child.<br> + I give thee that for which I have no name,<br> + For every name comprises but a part—<br> + But she was everything to me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Dear father,<br> + My mother will be with thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mother</span> (gently).<br> +Cross him not:<br> + He is quite right to overlook his wife.<br> + I have become a part of his own being,<br> + What strikes me, strikes him too; but what I do<br> + Affects him only as when right and left<br> + Of his own body meet. Meanwhile, however,<br> + The soul remains through all its days a nursling,<br> + And reaches out for breasts more full of life,<br> + Farewell. Be no worse helpmeet than I was,<br> + And mayst thou be as happy too. This word<br> + Embraces all.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Embrace—that is the word;<br> + Till now my fate was in your own embraced,<br> + But now the life of this man standing here<br> + Swings wide its gates, and in this single moment<br> + I breathe for once the blessed air of freedom:<br> + No longer yours, and still not his as yet.<br> + I beg you, go; for this unwonted thing,<br> + As new to me as wine, has greater power,<br> + And makes me view my life and his and yours<br> + With other eyes than were perhaps befitting.</p> + <p class="center">(With a forced smile.)</p> + <p class="hang4">I beg you, look not in such wonderment:<br> + Such notions oft go flitting through my head,<br> + Nor dream nor yet reality. Ye know,<br> + As child I was much worse. And then the dance<br> + Which I invented, is't not such a thing:<br> + Wherein from torchlight and the black of night<br> + I made myself a shifting, drifting palace,<br> + From which I then emerged, as do the queens<br> + Of fire and ocean in the fairy-tales.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The <span class="sc">Mother</span> has meanwhile + thrown the<br> + FATHER a glance and has noiselessly gone<br> + to the door. Noiselessly the FATHER has<br> + followed her. Now they stand with clasped<br> + hands in the doorway, to vanish the next<br> + moment.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Ye go so softly? What? And are ye gone?</p> + <p class="hang5">[She turns and stands silent, her eyes cast<br> + down.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (caresses her with a long +look, then goes to the<br> + rear, but stops again irresolute).<br> + Wilt thou not lay aside thy veil?</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> starts, looks + about her absent-mindedly.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (points to the glass).<br> + 'Tis yonder.</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> takes no step, + loosens mechanically<br> + the veil from her hair.]</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_240" href="#pixRef_240"><img src="images/pg240.png" alt="Lake in the Grunewald"></a></p> +<p class="center">LAKE IN THE GRUNEWALD</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Here—in thy house—and +just at first perhaps<br> + Thou mayst lack much. This house, since mother's death,<br> + Has grown disused to serve a woman's needs.<br> + And our utensils here do not display<br> + The splendor and magnificence in which<br> + I fain had seen thee framed, but yet for me<br> + Scant beauty dwells in what all men may have:<br> + So from the stuffy air of chests and caskets<br> + That, like the sandal-wood in sanctuary,<br> + Half took my breath, I had all these removed<br> + And placed there in thy chamber for thy service,<br> + Where something of my mother's presence still—<br> + Forgive me—seems to cling. I thought in this<br> + To show and teach thee something ... On some things<br> + There are mute symbols deeply stamped, with which<br> + The air grows laden in our quiet hours,<br> + And fuses something with our consciousness<br> + That could not well be said, nor was to be.</p> +<p class="right">[Pause.]</p> + <p class="hang4">It hurts me when I see thee thus, benumbed<br> + By all these overladen moments, that<br> + Scarce walk upright beneath their heavy burden.<br> + But let me say, all good things enter in<br> + Our souls in quiet unpretentious ways,<br> + And not with show and noise. One keeps expecting<br> + To see Life suddenly appear somewhere<br> + On the horizon, like a new domain,<br> + A country yet untrodden. Yet the distance<br> + Remains unpeopled; slowly then our eyes<br> + Perceive its traces ling'ring here and yonder,<br> + And that it compasses, embraces us,<br> + And bears us, is in us, and nowhere fails us.<br> + The words I say can give thee little pleasure,<br> + Too much renunciation rings in them.<br> + But not to me, by Heaven! My sweet child,<br> + Not like a beggar do I feel before thee,</p> +<p class="center">(With a long look at her.)</p> + <p class="hang4">However fair thy youth's consummate glory<br> + Envelop thee from top to toe ... thou knowest<br> + Not much about my life, thou hast but seen<br> + A fragment of its shell, as dimly gleaming<br> + In shadows through the op'nings of a hedge.<br> + I wish thine eye might pierce the heart of it:<br> + As fully as the earth beneath my feet<br> + Have I put from me all things low and common.<br> + Callst thou that easy, since I now am old?<br> + 'Tis true, I've lost some friends by death ere this—<br> + And thou at most thy grandam—many friends,<br> + And those that live, where are they scattered now?<br> + To them was linked the long forgotten quiver<br> + Of nights of youth, those evening hours in which<br> + Vague fear with monstrous, sultry happiness<br> + Was mingled, and the perfume of young locks<br> + With darkling breezes wafted from the stars.</p> +<hr class="W10"> + <p class="hang4">The glamor of the motley towns and cities,<br> + The distant purple haze—that now is gone,<br> + Nor could be found, though I should go to seek it;<br> + But here within me, when I call, there rises<br> + A something, rules my spirit, and I feel<br> + As if it might in thee as well—</p> +<p class="right">[He changes his tone.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Knowst thou the day, on which thou needst must dance<br> + Before thy father's guests? A smile unfading<br> + Dwelt on thy lips, than any string of pearls<br> + More fair, and sadder than my mother's smile,<br> + Which thou hast ne'er beheld. This is to blame:<br> + That smile and dance were interlaced, like wondrous<br> + Fingers of dreamlike possibilities.<br> + Wouldst thou they ne'er had been, since they're to blame,<br> + My wife, that thou art standing here with me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (in such a tone that her voice +is heard<br> + to strike her teeth).<br> + Commandest thou that I should dance? If not,<br> + Commandest thou some other thing?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +My wife,<br> + How wild thou speakest with me, and how strangely!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Wild? Hard, perhaps: my +fate is none too soft.<br> + Thou speakest as a good man speaks, then be<br> + So good as not to speak with me today.<br> + I am thy chattel, take me as thy chattel,<br> + And let me, like a chattel, keep my thoughts<br> + Unspoken, only uttered to myself!</p> + <p class="hang5">[She weeps silently with compressed lips, her<br> + face turned toward the darkness.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> So many tears and in +such silence. This<br> + Is not the shudder that relieves the anguish<br> + Of youth. Here there is deeper pain to quiet<br> + Than inborn rigidness of timid spirits.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Lord, shouldst thou +waken in the night and find<br> + Me weeping thus whenas I seem to sleep,<br> + Then wake me, lest I do what thy good right<br> + Forbids me. For in dreams upon thy bed<br> + I shall be seeing then another man<br> + And longing for him; this were not becoming,<br> + And makes me shudder at myself to think it.<br> + Oh promise me that thou wilt then awake me!</p> + <p class="hang5">[Pause. The <span class="sc">Merchant</span> is + silent; deep feeling<br> + darkens his face.]</p> + <p class="hang4">No question who it is? Does that not matter?<br> + No? But thy face is gloomy and thou breathest<br> + With effort? Then I will myself confess it:<br> + Thou hast beheld him at our house ere now,<br> + His name is Ganem—son of old Shalnassar,<br> + The carpet-dealer—and 'tis three years now<br> + Since first I knew him. But since yesteryear<br> + I have not seen him more.<br> + This I have said, this last thing I reveal,<br> + Because I will permit no sediment<br> + Of secrecy and lies to lurk within me.<br> + I care not thou shouldst know: I am no vessel<br> + Sold off as pure, but lined with verdigris<br> + To eat its bottom out—and then because<br> + I wanted to be spared his frequent visits<br> + In this abode—for that were hard to bear.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (threateningly, but soon +choked by wrath and pain).<br> + Thou! Thou hast ... thou hast ...</p> +<p class="right">[He claps his hands to his face.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Thou weepest too, then, +on thy wedding-day?<br> + And have I spoiled some dream for thee? Look hither:<br> + Thou sayst, I am so young, and this, and this—</p> +<p class="right">[Points to hair and cheeks.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Are young indeed, but weary is my spirit,<br> + So weary, that there is no word to tell<br> + How weary and how aged before my time.<br> + We are one age, perhaps thou art the younger.<br> + In conversation once thou saidst to me,<br> + That almost all the years since I was born<br> + Had passed for thee in sitting in thy gardens<br> + And in the quiet tower thou hast builded,<br> + To watch the stars from it. 'Twas on that day<br> + It first seemed possible to me, that thy<br> + And, more than that, my father's fond desire<br> + Might be ... fulfilled. For I supposed the air<br> + In this thy house must have some lightness in it,<br> + So light, so burdenless!—And in our house<br> + It was so overladen with remembrance,<br> + The airy corpse of sleepless nights went floating<br> + All through it, and on all the walls there hung<br> + The burden of those fondly cherished hopes,<br> + Once vivid, then rejected, long since faded.<br> + The glances of my parents rested ever<br> + Upon me, and their whole existence.—Well,<br> + Too well I knew each quiver of an eyelash,<br> + And over all there was the constant pressure<br> + Of thy commanding will, that on my soul<br> + Lay like a coverlet of heavy sleep.<br> + 'Twas common, that I yielded at the last:<br> + I seek no other word. And yet the common<br> + Is strong, and all our life is full of it.<br> + How could I thrust it down and trample on it,<br> + While I was floundering in it up to the neck?</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> So my desire lay like a +cruel nightmare<br> + Upon thy breast! Then thou must surely hate me ...</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> I hate thee not, I have +not learned to hate,<br> + And only just began to learn to love.<br> + The lessons stopped, but I am fairly able<br> + To do such things as, with that smile thou knowest,<br> + To dance, with heart as heavy as the stones,<br> + To face each heavy day, each coming evil<br> + With smiles: the utmost power of my youth<br> + That smile consumed, but to the bitter end<br> + I wore it, and so here I stand with thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> In this I see but +shadowy connection.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> How I connect my being +forced to smile<br> + And finally becoming wife to thee?<br> + Wilt thou know this? And must I tell thee all?<br> + Then knowst thou, since thou art rich, so little<br> + Of life, and hast no eyes for aught but stars,<br> + And flowers in thy heated greenhouse? Listen:<br> + This is the cause: a poor man is my father,<br> + Not always poor, much worse: once rich, now poor,<br> + And many people's debtor, most of all<br> + Thy debtor. And his starving spirit lived<br> + Upon my smile, as other people's hearts<br> + On other lies. These last years, since thou camest,<br> + I knew my task; till then had been my schooling.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> And so became my wife!<br> + As quick she would have grasped her pointed shears<br> + And opened up a vein and with her blood<br> + Have let her life run out into a bath,<br> + If that had been the price with which to purchase<br> + Her father's freedom from his creditor!<br> + ... Thus is a wish fulfilled!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Be not distressed. This +is the way of life.<br> + I am myself as in a waking dream.<br> + As one who, taken sick, no more aright<br> + Compares his thoughts, nor any more remembers<br> + How on the day before he viewed a matter,<br> + Nor what he then had feared or had expected:<br> + He cannot look with eyes of yesterday ...<br> + So also when we reach the worser stages<br> + Of that great illness: Life. I scarcely know<br> + Myself how great my fear of many things,<br> + How much I longed for others, and I feel,<br> + When some things cross my mind, as if it were<br> + Another woman's fate, and not my own,<br> + Just some one that I know about, not I.<br> + I tell thee, I am bitter, but not evil:<br> + And if at first I was too wild for thee,<br> + There will be no deception in me later,<br> + When I shall sit at ease and watch thy gardeners.<br> + My head is tired out. I grow so dizzy,<br> + When I must keep two things within myself<br> + That fight against each other. Much too long<br> + Have I been forced to do this. Give me peace!<br> + Thou giv'st me this, and for that I am grateful.<br> + Call not this little: terrible in weakness<br> + Is everything that grows on shifting sands<br> + Of doubt. But here is perfect certainty.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> And how of him?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> That too +must not distress thee.<br> + 'Twere hard to judge, had I concealed it from thee;<br> + I have revealed it now, so let it rest.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Thou art not free of +him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +So thinkest thou?<br> + When is one "free?" Things have no hold on us,<br> + Except we have in us the will to hold them.<br> + All that is past. [Gesture.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (after a pause).<br> + His love was like to thine? +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> nods.]</p> + <p class="hang4">But then, why then, how has it come to pass<br> + That he was not the one—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Why, we were poor!<br> + No, more than poor, thou knowst. His father, too.<br> + Poor too. Besides, a gloomy man, as hard<br> + As mine was all too soft, and on him weighing<br> + As mine on me. The whole much easier<br> + To live through than to put in words. For years<br> + It lasted. We were children when it started,<br> + Ere long as tired as foals, too early harnessed<br> + For drawing heavy wagons in the harvest.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> But let me tell thee, +this cannot be true<br> + About his father. I know old Shalnassar,<br> + The carpet-dealer. Well, he is a graybeard,<br> + And he who will may speak good of his name,<br> + But I will not. A wicked, bad old man!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> May be, all one. To him +it is his father.<br> + I ne'er have seen him. Ganem sees him so.<br> + He calls him sick, is saddened when he speaks<br> + Of him. And therefore I have never seen him,<br> + That is, not since my childhood, when I saw<br> + Him now and then upon the window leaning.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> But he's not poor, no, +anything but poor!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (sure of her facts, sadly +smiling).<br> + Thinkst thou I should be here?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +And he?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> What, he?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> He clearly made thee +feel<br> + He thought impossible, what he and thou<br> + Had wished for years and long held possible?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Why, for it was +impossible? ... and then<br> + "Had wished for years"—thou seest, all these matters<br> + Are different, and the words we use<br> + Are different. At one time this has ripened,<br> + But to decay again. For there are moments<br> + With cheeks that burn like the eternal suns—<br> + When somewhere hovers mute an unconfessed<br> + Confession, somewhere vanishes in air<br> + The echo of a call that never reached<br> + Its utterance; here in me something whispers,<br> + "I yielded to him;" mark: in thought! "I yielded"—<br> + The following moment swallows everything,<br> + As night the lightning flash ... How all began<br> + And ended? Well, in this wise: first I sealed<br> + My lips, soon then set seal upon my eye-lids,<br> + And he—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Well, how was +he?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Why, very noble.<br> + As one who seeks to sully his own image<br> + In other eyes, to spare that other pain—<br> + Quite different, no longer kind as once<br> + —It was the greatest kindness, so to act—<br> + His spirit rent and full of mockery, that<br> + Perhaps was bitterer to himself than me,<br> + Just like an actor oftentimes, so strangely<br> + With set intent. At other times again<br> + Discoursing of the future, of the time<br> + When I should give my hand—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (vehemently).<br> + To me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (coldly).<br> + When I should give my hand to any other;—<br> + Describing what he knew that I should never<br> + Endure, if life should ever take that form.<br> + As little as himself would e'er have borne it<br> + A single hour, for he but made a show,<br> + Acquaint with me, and knowing it would cost<br> + The less of pain to wrench my heart from him,<br> + So soon as I had come to doubt his faith.</p> +<hr class="W10"> + + <p class="hang4">'Twas too well acted, but what wealth of goodness<br> + Was there.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> The greatest goodness, <i> +if</i> 'twas really<br> + Naught but a pose assumed.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (passionately).<br> + I beg thee, husband,<br> + This one thing: ruin not our life together.<br> + As yet 'tis young and blind as tiny fledglings,<br> + A single speech like this might swiftly slay it!<br> + I shall not be an evil wife to thee:<br> + I mean that slowly I shall find, perhaps,<br> + In other things a little of that bliss<br> + For which I held out eager fingers, thinking<br> + There was a land quite full of it, both air<br> + And earth, and one might enter into it.<br> + I know by now that <i>I</i> was not to enter ...<br> + I shall be almost happy in that day,<br> + All longing, painless, shared 'twixt past and present,<br> + Like shining sunlight on the fresh green trees,<br> + And like an unburdened sky behind the garden<br> + The future: empty, yet quite full of light ...<br> + But we must give it time to grow:<br> + As yet confusion everywhere prevails.<br> + Thou must assist me, it must never happen<br> + That with ill-chosen words thou link this present<br> + Too strongly to the life which now is over.<br> + They must be parted by a wall of glass,<br> + As airtight and as rigid as in dreams.</p> + <p class="center">(At the window.)</p> + <p class="hang4">That evening must not come, that should discover<br> + Me sitting at this window without thee:<br> + —Just not to be at home, not from the window<br> + Of my long girlhood's chamber to look out<br> + Into the darkness, has a dangerous,<br> + Peculiar and confusing power, as if<br> + I lay upon the open road, no man's possession,<br> + As fully mine as never in my dreams!<br> + A maiden's life is much more strictly ruled<br> + By pressure of the air, than thou conceivest,<br> + To whom it seems most natural to be free.<br> + The evening ne'er must come, when I should thus<br> + Stand here, with all the weight of heavy shadows,<br> + My parents' eyes, all, all behind me thrust,<br> + Involved in yon dark hangings at my back,<br> + And this brave landscape with the golden stars,<br> + The gentle breeze, the bushes, thus before me.</p> + <p class="center">(With growing agitation.)</p> + <p class="hang4">The evening ne'er must come, when I should see<br> + All this with eyes like these, to say to me:<br> + Here lies a road that shimmers in the moonlight:<br> + Before the gentle breeze the next light cloudlet<br> + Impels to meet the moon, a man could run<br> + That road unto its end, between the hedges,<br> + Then comes a cross-road, now a planted field,<br> + And then the shadow of the standing corn,<br> + At last a garden! There his hand would touch<br> + At once a curtain, back of which is all:<br> + All kissing, laughing, all the happiness<br> + This world can give promiscuously flung<br> + About like balls of golden wool, such bliss<br> + That but a drop of it on parchéd lips<br> + Suffices to be lighter than a flame,<br> + To see no more of difficulty, nor<br> + To understand what men call ugliness!</p> + <p class="center">(Almost shrieking.)</p> + <p class="hang4">The evening ne'er must come, that with a thousand<br> + Unfettered tongues should cry to me: why not?<br> + Why hast thou never run in dark of night<br> + That road? Thy feet were young, thy breath sufficient:<br> + Why hast thou saved it, that thou mightst have plenty<br> + To weep a thousand nights upon thy pillow?</p> + <p class="hang5">[She turns her back to the window, clutches<br> + the table, collapses and falls to her knees,<br> + and remains thus, her face pressed to the<br> + table, her body shaken with weeping. A<br> + long pause.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> And if the first door I +should open wide,<br> + The only locked one on this road of love?</p> + <p class="hang5">[He opens the small doorway leading into<br> + the garden on the right; the moonlight<br> + enters.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (still kneeling by the table).<br> + Art thou so cruel as, in this first hour,<br> + To make a silly pastime of my weeping!<br> + Art thou so fain to put thy scorn upon me?<br> + Art thou so proud of holding me securely?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (with the utmost +self-control).<br> + How much I could have wished that thou hadst learned<br> + To know me otherwise, but now there is<br> + No time for that.<br> + Thy father, if 'tis this which so constrains thee,<br> + Thy father owes me nothing now, indeed<br> + Within some days agreements have been made<br> + Between us twain, from which some little profit<br> + And so, I hope, a much belated gleam<br> + Of joyousness may come.</p> + <p class="hang5">[She has crept closer to him on her knees,<br> + listening.]</p> + <p class="hang4">So then thou mightest—<br> + Thou mayst, I mean to say, if it was this<br> + That lamed thee most, if in this—<i>alien</i> + dwelling<br> + Again thou feel the will to live, which thou<br> + Hadst lost, if, as from heavy sleep aroused,<br> + Yet not awake, thou feel it is this portal<br> + That leads thee out to pulsing, waking life—<br> + Then in the name of God and of the stars<br> + I give thee leave to go where'er thou wilt.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (still on her knees).<br> + What?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> I do no more regard thee +as my wife<br> + Than any other maid who, for protection<br> + From tempest or from robbers by the wayside,<br> + Had entered for a space into my house,<br> + And I renounce herewith my claim upon thee,<br> + Just as I have no valid right to any,<br> + Whom such a chance might cast beneath my roof.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> What sayest thou?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> I +say that thou art free<br> + To pass out through this door, and where thou wilt.<br> + Free as the wind, the butterfly, the water.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (half standing).<br> + To go?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> To go.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Where'er I will?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +Where 'er<br> + Thou wilt, and at what time thou wilt.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (still half dazed, now at the +door).<br> + Now? Here?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> Or now, or later.<br> + Here, or otherwhere.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (doubtfully).<br> + But to my parents only?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (in a more decided tone).<br> + Where thou wilt.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (laughing and Weeping at once).<br> + This dost thou then? O never in a dream<br> + I ventured such a thought, in maddest dreams<br> + I ne'er had crept to thee upon my knees</p> +<p class="right">[She falls on her knees before him.]</p> + <p class="hang4">With this request, lest I should see thy laughter<br> + Upon such madness ... yet thou doest it,<br> + Thou doest it! O thou! Thou good, good man!</p> + <p class="hang5">[He raises her gently, she stands bewildered.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (turns away).<br> + When wilt thou go?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +This very instant, now!<br> + O be not angry, think not ill of me!<br> + Consider: can I tarry in thy house,<br> + A stranger's house this night? Must I not go<br> + At once to him, since I belong to him?<br> + How may his property this night inhabit<br> + An alien house, as it were masterless?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (bitterly).<br> + Already his?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Why +sir, a proper woman<br> + Is never masterless: for from her father<br> + Her husband takes her, she belongs to him,<br> + Be he alive or resting in the earth.<br> + Her next and latest master—that is Death.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Then wilt thou not, at +least till break of day,<br> + Return to rest at home?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +No, no, my friend.<br> + All that is past. My road, once and for all,<br> + Is not the common one, this hour divides<br> + Me altogether from all maiden ways.<br> + So let me walk it to its very end<br> + In this one night, that in a later day<br> + All this be like a dream, nor I have need<br> + To feel ashamed.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Then +go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +I give thee pain?</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Merchant</span> turns away.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Permit a single draught from yonder goblet.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> It was my mother's, take +it to thyself.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> I cannot. Lord. But let +me drink from it. +<p class="right">[Drinks.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> Drain this, and never +mayst thou need in life<br> + To quench thy thirst with wine from any goblet<br> + Less pure than that.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Farewell.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +Farewell.</p> +<p class="right">[She is already on the threshold.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Hast thou no fear? Thou never yet hast walked<br> + Alone. We dwell without the city wall.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Dear friend, I feel +above all weakling fear,<br> + And light my foot, as never in the daytime.</p> +<p class="right">[Exit.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (after following her long +with his eyes, with a<br> + gesture of pain).<br> + As if some plant were drawing quiet rootlets<br> + From out my heart, to take wing after her,<br> + And air were entering all the empty sockets!</p> +<p class="right">[He steps away from the window.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Does she not really seem to me less fair,<br> + So hasty, so desirous to run thither,<br> + Where scarce she knows if any wait her coming!<br> + No: 'tis her youth that I must see aright;<br> + This is a part of all things beautiful,<br> + And all this haste becomes this creature just<br> + As mute aspects become the fairest flowers.</p> + +<p class="right">[Pause.]</p> + <p class="hang4">I think what I have done is of a part<br> + With my conception of the world's great movement.<br> + I will not have one set of lofty thoughts<br> + When I behold high up the circling stars,<br> + And others when a young girl stands before me.<br> + What <i>there</i> is truth, must be so here as well,<br> + And I must say, if yonder wedded child<br> + Cannot endure to harbor in her spirit<br> + Two things, of which the one belies the other,<br> + Am I prepared to make my acts deny<br> + What I have learned through groping premonition<br> + And reason from that monstrous principle<br> + That towers upon the earth and strikes the stars?<br> + I call it Life, that monstrous thing, this too<br> + Is life—and who might venture to divide them?<br> + And what is ripeness, if not recognizing<br> + That men and stars have but one law to guide them?<br> + And so herein I see the hand of fate,<br> + That bids me live as lonely as before,<br> + And heirless—when I speak the last good-by—<br> + And with no loving hand in mine, to die.</p> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">A wainscoted room in <span class="sc">Shalnassar's</span> +house. An ascending stairway, narrow and steep, in the right background; a +descending one at the left. A gallery of open woodwork with openings, inner +balconies, runs about the entire stage. Unshaded hanging lamps. Curtained +doorways to the left and right. Against the left wall a low bench, farther to +the rear a table and seats.</p> +<p class="hang1">Old <span class="sc">Shalnassar</span> sits on the bench near +the left doorway, wrapped in a cloak. Before him stands a young man, the +impoverished merchant.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Were I as rich as you +regard me—truly<br> + I am not so, quite far from that, my friend—<br> + I could not even then grant this postponement,<br> + Nay, really, friend, and solely for your sake:<br> + For too indulgent creditors, by Heaven,<br> + Are debtors' ruin.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + Hear me now, Shalnassar!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> No more. I can hear +nothing. Yea, my deafness<br> + But grows apace with all your talking. Go!<br> + Go home, I say: think how you may retrench.<br> + I know your house, 'tis overrun with vermin,<br> + I mean the servants. Curtail the expenses<br> + Your wife has caused: they are most unbecoming<br> + For your position. What? I am not here<br> + To give you counsel. Home with you, I tell you.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + I wanted to, my heart detains me here,<br> + This heart that swells with pain. Go home? To me<br> + The very door of my own house is hateful.<br> + I cannot enter, but some creditor<br> + Would block my way.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Well, +what a fool you were.<br> + Go home and join your lovely wife, be off!<br> + Go home! Bring offspring into life. Then starve!</p> + <p class="hang5">[He claps his hands. The Armenian slave<br> + comes up the stairs. <span class="sc">Shalnassar</span> whispers<br> + with him, without heeding the other.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + Not fifty florins have I in the world.<br> + You spoke of servants? Aye, one withered crone<br> + To carry water, that is all. And she<br> + How long? No wretch abandoned, fed with alms,<br> + Feels misery like mine: for I have known<br> + The sweets of wealth. Through every night I slept,<br> + Contentment round my head, and sweet was morning.<br> + But hush! she loves me still, and so my failure<br> + Is bright and golden. O, she is my wife!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> I beg you, go, the lamps +will have to burn<br> + So long as you are standing round. Go with him.<br> + Here are the keys.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span> (overcoming his fear).<br> + A word, good Shalnassar!<br> + I had not wished to beg you for reprieve.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> What? Does my deafness +cause me some illusion?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + No, really.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> But?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + But for another loan.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span> (furious).<br> + What do You want?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + Not what I want, but must.<br> + Thou never hast beheld her, thou must see her!<br> + My heavy heart gives o'er its sullen beating<br> + And leaps with joy, whene'er I look upon her.<br> + (With growing agitation.)<br> + All this must yet be altered. Her fair limbs<br> + Are for the cult of tenderness created,<br> + Not for the savage claws of desperation.<br> + She cannot go a-begging, with such hair.<br> + Her mouth is proud as it is sweet. O, fate<br> + Is trying to outwit me—but I scorn it—<br> + If thou couldst see her, old man—<p class="hang3"><span class="sc"> +Shalnass</span>. <br> I <i>will</i> see her!<br> + Tell her the man of years, upon whose gold<br> + Her husband young so much depends—now mark:<br> + The good old man, say, the decrepit gray-beard—<br> + Desired to see her. Tell her men of years<br> + Are childish, why should this one not be so?<br> + But still a call is little. Tell her this:<br> + It is almost a grave that she would visit,<br> + A grave just barely breathing. Will you do't?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Debtor</span>. <br> + I've heard it said that you adore your gold<br> + Like something sacred, and that next to that<br> + You love the countenance of anguished men,<br> + And looks that mirror forth the spirit's pain.<br> + But you are old, have sons, and so I think<br> + These evil sayings false. And therefore I<br> + Will tell her this, and if perchance she asks me,<br> + "What thinkest thou?" then I will say, "My dearest,<br> + Peculiar, but not bad."—Farewell, but pray you,<br> + When your desire is granted, let not mine,<br> + Shalnassar, wait long for its due fulfilment.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The <span class="sc">Debtor</span> and the + Armenian slave exeunt<br> + down the stairs.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. (alone, rises, stretches, +seems much taller now).<br> + A honeyed fool is that, a sweet-voiced babbler,<br> + "Hear, aged man!"—"I beg you, aged man!"<br> + I've heard men say his wife is beautiful,<br> + And has such fiery color in her hair<br> + That fingers tumbling it feel heat and billows<br> + At once. If she comes not, then she shall learn<br> + To sleep on naked straw....<br> +<span style="letter-spacing:40px"> </span> +... 'Twere time to sleep.<br> + They say that convalescents need much sleep.<br> + But if I must be deaf, then I'll be deaf<br> + To wisdom such as this. Sleep is naught other<br> + Than early death. I would enjoy my nights<br> + Together with the days still left to me.<br> + I will be generous, whenas I please:<br> + To Gülistane I Will give more this evening<br> + Than she could dream. And this shall be my pretext<br> + To have her change her room and take a chamber<br> + Both larger and near mine. If she will do't,<br> + Her bath shall be the juice of violets, roses,<br> + Or pinks, and gold and amber she shall quaff,<br> + Until the roof-beams reel in dizzy madness.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He claps his hands, a slave comes. Exit<br> + left, followed by slave. <span class="sc">Gülistane</span> comes<br> + up the stairs, an old slave-woman behind<br> + her. <span class="sc">Ganem</span> bends forward from a niche<br> + above, spies <span class="sc">Gülistane</span> and comes down<br> + the stairs.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (takes her by the hand).<br> + My dream, whence comest thou? So long I lay<br> + To wait for thee.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The old slave-woman mounts the stairs.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + I? From my bath I come<br> + And go now to my chamber.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +How thou shinest<br> + From bathing.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + It was flowing, glowing silver<br> + Of moonlight.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> Were I one +of yonder trees,<br> + I would cast off my foliage with a quiver,<br> + And leap to thee! O were I master here!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Aye, if thou wert! Thy father is quite well.<br> + He bade me dine alone with him this evening.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> Accursèd skill, that +roused this blood again,<br> + Which was already half coagulated.<br> + I saw him speaking with thee just this morning.<br> + What was it?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + I have told thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> Speak, was that all? +Thou liest, there was more!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + He asked me—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> What? But hush, +the walls have ears.</p> +<p class="right">[She whispers.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Beloved!<br> + While thou art speaking, ripes in me a plan,<br> + Most wonderful, note well, and based on this:<br> + He now is but the shadow of himself,<br> + And though he still stands threatening there, his feet<br> + Are clay. His wrath is thunder without lightning.<br> + And—mark me well—all this his lustfulness<br> + Is naught but senile braggadocio.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Well,<br> + What dost thou base on this?</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +The greatest hope.</p> +<p class="right">[He whispers.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + But such a poison—<br> + Suppose there should be one of such a nature,<br> + To end the life, but leave the corpse unmarred—<br> + This poison none will sell thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Aye, no man,<br> + A woman will—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + For what reward?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +For this,<br> + That, thinking I am wed, she also thinks<br> + To call me husband—after.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Who'll believe it?...</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> There long has been a +woman who believes it.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> Thou liest: saidst thou +not the plan was new?<br> + And now thou sayst there long has been a woman.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> There has: I meshed her +in this web of lies<br> + Before I saw the goal. Today 'tis clear.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Who is't?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> The limping +daughter of a poor<br> + Old pastrycook, who lives in the last alley<br> + Down in the sailors' quarter.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + And her name?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> What's in a name? Her +eyes, with doglike fear,<br> + Clung to me when I passed, one of those faces<br> + That lure me, since so greedily they drink<br> + In lies, and weave out of themselves such fancies.<br> + And so I oft would stand and talk to her.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_260" href="#pixRef_260"><img src="images/pg260.png" alt="Lake in the Grunewald"></a></p> +<p class="center">LAKE IN THE GRUNEWALD</p> +<p class="center"><i>From the Painting by Walter Leistikow</i></p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + And who gives her the poison?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Why, her father,<br> + By keeping it where she can steal it from him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> What? He a pastry-maker?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>.<br> +But quite skilful,<br> + And very poor—and yet not to be purchased<br> + By us at any price: he is of those<br> + Who secretly reject our holy books,<br> + And eat no food on which our shadow falls.<br> + I'll visit her, while thou art eating dinner<br> + With him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> So each will +have his part to play.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>.<br> + But mine shall end all further repetition<br> + Of thine. Soon I return. Make some excuse<br> + To leave him. If I found thee with him—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (puts her hand over his +mouth).<br> + Hush!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (overcome).<br> + How cool thy fingers are, and yet, how burns<br> + Thy blood within them, sorceress! Thou holdest<br> + Me captive in the deepest cell, and feedest<br> + Me e'er at midnight with thy kennels' leavings;<br> + Thou scourgest me, and in the dust I grovel.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + E'en so, and thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (crushed by her look).<br> + And I?</p> +<p class="right">[Looks down at his feet.]</p> +<p class="right">My name is Ganem,</p> + <p class="hang4">Ganem, the slave of love.</p> + +<p class="right">[He sinks before her, clasping her feet.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Go quickly, go!<br> + I hear thy father, go! I bid thee go!<br> + I will not have them find us here together.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> I have a silly smile, +quite meaningless,<br> + 'Twould serve me well to look him in the face.</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Gülistane</span> goes up the + stairs. The Armenian<br> + slave comes from below. <span class="sc">Ganem</span> turns<br> + to go out on the right.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> + Was Gülistane with thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. [Shrugs his shoulders.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> + But thou wast speaking.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> Aye, with my hound.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> + Then she is doubtless here.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He goes up the stairs. The stage remains<br> + empty awhile, then <span class="sc">Shalnassar</span> enters<br> + from the left with three slaves hearing vessels<br> + and ornaments. He has everything set<br> + down by the left wall, where there is<br> + a table with low seats.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Put this down here, this +here. Now ye may serve.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He goes to the lowest step of the stairway.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Ah, convalescents, so they say, should seek<br> + The sun. Well, here I stand,</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Gülistane</span> comes down and + he leads her to<br> + the gifts.]</p> + <p class="hang4">And know no more<br> + Of sickness, than that amber is its work,<br> + And pearls, when it resides in trees or + oysters.<br> + My word, they both are here. And here are + birds,<br> + Quite lifelike, woven into gleaming silk,<br> + If it be worth thy while to look at them.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + This is too much.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br>Aye, for a pigeon-house,<br> + But scarcely for a chamber large enough<br> + To hold such rose-perfume as yonder vases<br> + Exhale, and yet not fill the air to stifling.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + O see, what wondrous vases!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> +This is onyx,<br> + And that one Chrysophrase, beneath thy notice.<br> + Impenetrable they are called, but odors<br> + Can pass their walls as they were rotten wood.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> How thank thee?</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Shalnassar</span> does not understand.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> How, I +say, am I to thank thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> By squandering all this:<br> + This desk of sandal-wood and inlaid pearl<br> + Use stead of withered twigs on chilly nights<br> + To warm thy bath: watch how the flames will sparkle,<br> + With sweet perfume!</p> + <p class="hang5">[A dog is heard to give tongue, then several.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + What sheer and fragile lace! [Lifts it up.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Dead, lifeless stuff. +I'll bring to thee a dwarf,<br> + Hath twenty tongues of beasts and men within him.<br> + Instead of apes and parrots I will give thee<br> + Most curious men, abortions of the trees<br> + That marry with the air. They sing by night.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> Thou shalt have kisses.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The baying of the dogs grows stronger,<br> + seems nearer.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> +Say, do young lovers<br> + Give better gifts?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> What +wretched blunderers<br> + In this great art, but what a master thou!</p> + <p class="hang5">[The Armenian slave comes, plucks <span class="sc"> + Shalnassar</span><br> + by the sleeve, and whispers.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> A maiden sayst thou? +Doubtless 'tis a woman,<br> + But young? I do not understand.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + What maiden meanest thou. Beloved?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> None, none. I merely +bade this slave "remain,"<br> + And thou misheardest. (To the slave.) Hither<br> + come, speak softly.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> She is half dead with +fear, for some highwayman<br> + Pursued her here, and then the dogs attacked her<br> + And pulled her down. All out of breath she asked me,<br> + "Is this Shalnassar's house, the carpet-dealer?"</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> It is the wife of that +sweet fool. He sent her.<br> + Be still. (He goes to <span class="sc">Gülistane</span>, who is just<br> + putting a string of pearls about her throat.)<br> + O lovely! they're not worth their place. +<p class="right">[He goes back to the slave.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> + She also speaks of Ganem.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> +Of my son?<br> + All one. Say, is she fair?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> +I thought so.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> +What!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> + But all deformed with fear.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Some business?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span> (to her).<br> +None,<br> + But serving thee.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He puts out his hand to close the clasp at<br> + her neck, but fails.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Forbear!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span> (puts his hand to his eye).<br> + A little vein<br> + Burst in my eye. I must behold thee dance,<br> + To make the blood recede.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> +A strange idea.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Come, for my sake.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> +Why, then I must put up<br> + My hair.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Then put it +up. I cannot live<br> + While thou delayest.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Gülistane</span> goes up the stairs.]</p> + <p class="right">(To the slave.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Lead her here to me.<br> + Say only this: the one she seeks awaits her.<br> + Mark that: the one she seeks; no more.</p> +<p class="right">[He walks up and down; exit slave.]</p> + <p class="hang4">No being is so simple; no, I cannot<br> + Believe there are such fools. Highwaymen, bosh!<br> + He sent her here, and all that contradicts it<br> + Is simply lies.<br> + I little thought that she would come tonight,<br> + But gold draws all this out of nothingness.<br> + I'll keep her if she pleases me: her husband<br> + Shall never see her face again. With fetters<br> + Of linked gold I'll deck her pretty ankles.<br> + I'll keep them both and make them both so tame<br> + That they will swing like parrots in one ring.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The slave leads <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> up + the stairs. She<br> + is agitated, her eyes staring, her hair<br> + disheveled, the strings of pearls torn off.<br> + She no longer wears her veil.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> O that my son might die +for very wrath!<br> + Well, well, and how she trembles and dissembles.</p> +<p class="right">[He motions the slave out.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (looks at him fearfully).<br> + Art thou Shalnassar?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Yes. And +has thy husband—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> My husband? Knowst thou +that? Why, did I not<br> + Just now ... was it not just this very night?...<br> + What?... or dost thou surmise?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> +Coquettish chatter<br> + May do for youthful apes. But I am old,<br> + And know the power that I have over you.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> That power thou hast, +but thou wilt not employ it<br> + To do me hurt.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> No, by the eternal +light!<br> + But I am not a maker of sweet sayings,<br> + Nor fond of talk.<br> + Deliberate flattery I put behind me:<br> + The mouth that sucks the sweetness of the fruit<br> + Is mute. And this is chiefly autumn's trade.<br> + Yea, though the spring may breathe a sweeter odor,<br> + Old autumn laughs at him.—Nay, look not so<br> + Upon my hand. Because 'tis full of veins,<br> + Rank weeds, in which the juice of life dries up.—<br> + O, it will seize thee yet and it can hold thee!<br> + What, pain so soon? I'll soothe it with a string<br> + Of pearls, come, come!</p> +<p class="right">[Tries to draw her away.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (frees herself).<br> + Have mercy, thou, my poor enfeebled brain<br> + Is all deranged. Is it to me thou speakest?<br> + Speak, thou art surely drunken or wouldst mock me.<br> + Knowst thou then who I am? Oh yes, thou saidst<br> + My husband. Yes, this was my wedding-day!<br> + Knowst thou it? When I stood with him alone,<br> + My husband, then it all came over me;<br> + I wept aloud, and when he asked me, then<br> + I lifted up my voice against him, spoke<br> + To him of Ganem, of thy son, and told him<br> + The whole. I'll tell thee later how it was.<br> + Just now I know not. Only this: the door<br> + He opened for me, kindly, not in anger,<br> + And said to me I was no more his wife,<br> + And I might go where'er I would.—Then go<br> + And fetch me Ganem! Fetch him here for me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. (angrily grasps his beard).<br> + Accursed deception! Speak, what devil let thee in?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Dear sir, I am the only +child of Bachtjar,<br> + The jeweler.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> (claps his hands, the +slave comes).<br> + Call Ganem.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (involuntarily).<br> + Call him hither.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. (to the slave).<br> + Bring up the dinner. Is the dwarf prepared?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Slave</span>. <br> They're feeding him; for +till his hunger's gone,<br> + He is too vicious.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Good, +I'll go and see it.</p> +<p class="right">[Exit with the slave to the left.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (alone).<br> + Now I am here. Does fortune thus begin?<br> + Yes, this has had to come, and all these colors<br> + I know because I dreamed them, mingled thus.<br> + We drink from goblets which a little child,<br> + With eyes that sparkle as through garlands gay,<br> + Holds out—but from the branches of a tree-top<br> + Black drops drip down into the goblet's bowl<br> + And mingle death and night with what we drink.</p> +<p class="right">[She sits down on the bench.]</p> + <p class="hang4">With whatsoe'er we do some night is mingled,<br> + And e'en our eye has something of its blackness.<br> + The glitter in the fabrics of our looms<br> + Is but the woof, the pattern, its true warp<br> + Is night.<br> + Aye, death is everywhere; and with our glances<br> + And with our words we cover him from sight,<br> + And like the children, when in merry playing<br> + They hide some toy, so we forget forthwith<br> + That we are hiding death from our own glances.<br> + Oh, if <i>we</i> e'er have children, they must keep<br> + From knowing this for many, many years.<br> + Too soon I learned it. And the cruel pictures<br> + Are evermore in me: they perch within me<br> + Like turtle-doves in copses and come swarming<br> + Upon the least alarm.</p> + +<p class="right">[She looks up.]</p> + <p class="hang4">But now Ganem will come. Oh, if my heart<br> + Would cease from holding all my blood compressed.<br> + I'm wearied unto death. Oh, I could sleep.</p> +<p class="right">[With forced liveliness.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Ganem will come, and then all will be well! </p> +<p class="right">[She breathes the scent of oil of roses and<br> + becomes aware of the precious objects.]</p> + <p class="hang4">How all this is perfumed, and how it sparkles!</p> +<p class="right">[With alarmed astonishment.]</p> + <p class="hang4">And there! Woe's me, this is the house of wealth,<br> + Deluded, foolish eyes, look here and here!</p> +<p class="right">[She rouses her memory feverishly.]</p> + <p class="hang4">And that old man was fain with strings of pearls<br> + To bind my arms and hands—why, they are rich!<br> + And "poor" was every second word he uttered.<br> + He lied then, lied not once but many times!<br> + I saw him smiling when he lied, I feel it,<br> + It chokes me here!</p> +<p class="right">[She tries to calm herself.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Oh, if he lied—but there are certain things<br> + That can constrain a spirit. And his father<br> + I have done much for my old father's sake—<br> + His father this? That chokes me more than ever.<br> + Inglorious heart, he comes, and something, something<br> + Will be revealed, all this I then shall grasp,<br> + I then shall grasp—</p> + <p class="hang5">[She hears steps, looks about her wildly, then<br> + cries in fear.]</p> + <p class="right">Come, leave me not alone!</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Gülistane</span> and an old + serving-woman come<br> + down the stairs and go to the presents by<br> + the table.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (starting).<br> + Ganem, is it not thou?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (in an undertone).<br> + Why, she is mad.</p> + <p class="hang5">[She lays one present after another on the<br> + servant's arms.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (standing at some distance from +her).<br> + No, no, I am not mad. Oh, be not angry.<br> + The dogs are after me! But first a man.<br> + I'm almost dead with fear. He is my friend,<br> + Will tell you who I am. Ye do not know<br> + How terror can transform a human being.<br> + I ask you, are not all of us in terror<br> + Of even drunken men? This was a murd'rer.<br> + I am not brave, but with a lie that sped<br> + Into my wretched head I held him off<br> + Awhile—then he came on, and I could feel<br> + His hands. Take pity on me, be not angry!<br> + Ye sit there at the table fair with candles,<br> + And I disturb. But if ye are his friends,<br> + Ask him to tell you all. And later on,<br> + When we shall meet and ye shall know me better,<br> + We both will laugh about it. But as yet</p> + <p class="center">(Shuddering.)</p> + <p class="hang4">I could not laugh at it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (turning to her).<br> + Who is thy friend, and who will tell us all?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (with innocent friendliness).<br> + Why, Ganem.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> Oh, what business hast +thou here?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (steps closer, looks fixedly at +her).<br> + What, art thou not the widow<br> + Of Kamkar, the ship-captain?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + And thou the daughter<br> + Of Bachtjar, the gem-dealer?</p> +<p class="right">[They regard each other attentively.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> It is long since<br> + We saw each other.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + What com'st thou here<br> + To do?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Then thou liv'st here?—I +come to question Ganem</p> + <p class="center">(Faltering.)</p> + <p class="hang4">About a matter—on which much depends—<br> + Both for my father—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Hast not seen him lately?<br> + Ganem, I mean.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Nay, 'tis +almost a year.<br> + Since Kamkar died, thy husband, 'tis four years.<br> + I know the day he died. How long hast thou<br> + Lived here?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + They are my kin. What is't to thee,<br> + How long? But then, what odds? Why then, three years.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> is silent.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (to the slave).<br> + Look to't that nothing fall. Hast thou the mats?</p> + <p class="center">(To <span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. )</p> + <p class="hang4">For it may be, if one were left to lie<br> + And Ganem found it, he would take the notion<br> + To bed his cheek on it, because my foot<br> + Had trodden it, and then whate'er thou spokest,<br> + He would be deaf to thine affair. Or if<br> + He found the pin that's fallen from my hair<br> + And breathing still its perfume: then his senses<br> + Would fasten on that trinket, and he never<br> + Would know thy presence.</p> + <p class="center">(To the slave.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Pick it up for me.<br> + Come, bend thy back.</p> + <p class="hang5">[She pushes the slave. <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> + bends quickly<br> + and holds out the pin to the slave. <span class="sc">Gülistane</span><br> + takes it out of her hand and thrusts<br> + with it at <span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Alas, why prickst thou +me?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> That I may circumvent +thee, little serpent.<br> + Go, for thy face is such a silly void<br> + That one can see what thou wouldst hide in it.<br> + Go home again, I counsel thee.—Come thou<br> + And carry all thou canst.</p> + <p class="center">(To <span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. )</p> + <p class="hang4">Mark thou my words:<br> + What's mine I will preserve and keep from + thieves!</p> +<p class="hang5">[She goes up the stairs with the slave.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (alone).<br> + What's left for me? How can this turn to good,<br> + That so begins? No, no, my destiny<br> + Would try me. What should mean to him this woman?<br> + This is not love, it is but lust, a thing<br> + That men find needful to their lives. He comes,</p> + <p class="center">(In feverish haste.)</p> +<p class="hang4">And he will cast this from him with a word<br> + And laugh at me. Arise, my recollections,<br> + For now I need you or shall never need you!<br> + Woe, woe, that I must call you in this hour!<br> + Will not one loving glance return to me?<br> + One unambiguous word? Ah, words and glances,<br> + Deceitful woof of air. A heavy heart<br> + Would cling to you, and ye are rent like cobwebs.<br> + Away, fond recollection! My old life<br> + Today is cast behind me, and I stand<br> + Upon a sphere that rolls I know not whither.</p> + <p class="center">(With increasing agitation.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Ganem will come to me, and his first word<br> + Will rend the noose that tightens on my throat.<br> + He comes, will take me in his arms—all dripping<br> + With fear and horror, stead of oils and perfumes,—<br> + I'll say no word, I'll hang upon his neck<br> + And drink the words he speaks. For his first word,<br> + The very first will lull all fears to sleep ...<br> + He'll smile all doubt away ... and put to flight ...<br> + But if he fail?... I will not think it, will not!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Ganem</span> comes up the stairs.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (cries out).<br> + Ganem!</p> + <p class="hang5">[She runs to him, feels his hair, his face,<br> + falls before him, presses her head against<br> + him, at once laughing and weeping convulsively.]</p> + <p class="hang4">I'm here, Oh take me, take me, hold me fast!<br> + Be good to me, thou knowst not all as yet.<br> + I cannot yet ... How lookest thou upon me?</p> + <p class="hang5">[She stands up again, steps back, and looks<br> + at him in fearful suspense.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (stands motionless before her.)<br> + Thou!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (in breathless haste).<br> + I belong to thee, am thine, my Ganem!<br> + Ask me not now how this has come to pass:<br> + This is the centre of a labyrinth,<br> + But now we stand here. Wilt thou not behold me!<br> + He gave me freedom, he himself, my husband ...<br> + Why does thy countenance show such a change?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> No cause. Come hither, +they may overhear us ...</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> I feel that there is +something in me now<br> + Displeases thee. Why dost thou keep it from me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> What wouldst thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Nothing, if I + may but please thee.<br> + Ah, be indulgent. Tell me my shortcomings.<br> + I will be so obedient. Was I bold?<br> + Look thou, 'tis not my nature so; I feel<br> + As if this night had gripped me with its fists<br> + And flung me hither, aye, my spirit shudders<br> + At all that I had power there to say,<br> + And that I then had strength to walk this road.<br> + Art sorry that I had it?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Why this weeping?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Thou hast the power to +change me so. I cannot<br> + But laugh or weep, or blush or pale again<br> + As thou wouldst have it.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Ganem</span> kisses her.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +When thou kissest me,<br> + O look not thus! But no, I am thy slave.<br> + Do as thou wilt. Here let me rest. I will<br> + Be clay unto thy hands, and think no more.<br> + And now thy brow is wrinkled?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Aye, for soon<br> + Thou must return. Thou smilest?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Should I not?<br> + I know thou wouldst but try me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +No, in earnest,<br> + Thou art in error. Thinkest thou perhaps<br> + That I can keep thee here? Say, has thy husband<br> + Gone over land, that thou art not afraid?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> I beg thee cease, I +cannot laugh just now.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> No, seriously, when +shall I come to thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> To me, what for? Thou +seest, I am here:<br> + Look, here before thy feet I sit me down;<br> + I have no other home except the straw<br> + Beside thy hound, if thou wilt not provide<br> + A bed for me; and none will come to fetch me.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He raises her, then claps his hands delightedly.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> O splendid! How thou playst +a seeming part<br> + When opportunity demands. And it becomes thee,<br> + Oh, most superbly! We'll draw profit from it.<br> + There'll be no lack of further free occasion,<br> + To yield ourselves to pleasure undismayed—<br> + When shall I come to thee?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (stepping back).<br> + Oh, I am raving!<br> + My head's to blame, for that I hear thee speaking<br> + Quite other words than those thou really utter'st.<br> + O Ganem, help me! Have thou patience with me,<br> + What day is this today?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Why ask that now?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> 'Twill not be always so, +'tis but from fear,<br> + And then because I've had to feel too much<br> + In this one fleeting night; that has confused me.<br> + <i>This</i> was my wedding-day: then when alone<br> + With him, my husband, I did weep and said<br> + It was because of thee. He oped the door<br> + And let me out.—<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +He has the epilepsy,<br> + I'll wager, sought fresh air. Thou art too foolish!<br> + Let me undo thy hair and kiss thy neck.<br> + But then go quickly home: what happens later<br> + Shall be much better than this first beginning.</p> +<p class="right">[He tries to draw her to him.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (frees herself, steps back).<br> + Ganem, he oped the door for me, and said<br> + I was no more his wife, and I might go<br> + Where'er I would ... My father free of debt<br> + ... And he would let me go where'er I would ...<br> + To thee, to thee! [She bursts into sobs.]<br> + I ran, there was the man who took away<br> + My pearls and would have slain me—<br> + And then the dogs—</p> + <p class="hang5">(With the pitiable expression of one forsaken.)</p> + <p class="hang4">And now I'm here with thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (inattentively, listening +intently up stage).<br> + I think I hear some music, hear'st it thou?—<br> + 'Tis from below.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Thy +face and something else,<br> + O Ganem, fill me with a mighty fear—<br> + Hark not to that, hear me! hear me, I beg thee!<br> + Hear me, that here beneath thy glance am lying<br> + With open soul, whose ebb and flow of blood<br> + Proceeds but from the changes of thy mien.<br> + Thou once didst love me—that, I think, is past—<br> + For what came then, I only am to blame:<br> + Thy brightness waxed within my gloomy soul<br> + Like moons in fog—</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Ganem</span> listens as before. + <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> with<br> + growing wildness.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Suppose thou loved me not:<br> + Why didst thou lie? If I was aught to thee,<br> + Why hast thou lied to me? O speak to me—<br> + Am I not worth an answer?</p> + <p class="hang5">[Weird music and voices are heard outside.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Yes, by heaven,<br> + It is the old man's voice and Gülistane's!</p> + <p class="hang5">[Down the stairs come a fluting dwarf and an<br> + effeminate-looking slave playing a lute,<br> + preceded by others with lights; then<br> + <span class="sc">Shalnassar</span>, leaning on <span class="sc"> + Gülistane</span>; finally a<br> + eunuch with a whip stuck in his belt.<br> + <span class="sc">Gülistane</span> frees herself and comes + forward,<br> + seeming to search the floor for something;<br> + the others come forward also. The music<br> + ceases.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (over her shoulder, to <span class="sc"> +Shalnassar</span>).<br> + I miss a tiny jar, of swarthy onyx<br> + And filled with ointment. Art thou ling'ring still,<br> + Thou Bachtjar's daughter? Bend thy lazy back<br> + And try to find it.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> is silent, looking at <span class="sc"> +Ganem</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Let it +be and come!<br> + I'll give thee hundreds more.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> +It was a secret,<br> + The ointment in it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (close to <span class="sc"> +Gülistane</span>).<br> + What means this procession?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> Come on, why not? The +aged cannot wait.<br> + And ye, advance! Bear lights and make an uproar!<br> + Be drunken: what has night to do with sleep!<br> + Advance up to the door, then stay behind!</p> +<p class="right">[The slaves form in order again.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (furious).<br> + Door, door? What door?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. (to <span class="sc"> +Gülistane</span>, who leans against him).<br> + Say, shall I give an answer?<br> + If so, I'll do 't to flatter thee. If not,<br> + 'Twill be to show thee that my happiness<br> + Requireth not old envy's flattery.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (to <span class="sc">Gülistane</span>).<br> + Say no, say he is lying!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> + Go, good Ganem,<br> + And let us pass. Thy father is recovered,<br> + And we are glad of it. Why stand so gloomy?<br> + One must be merry with the living, eh,<br> + While yet they live? [She looks into his eyes.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (snatches the whip from the +eunuch).<br> + Old woman, for what purpose is this whip?<br> + Now flee and scatter, crippled, halting folly! +<br> + [He strikes at the musicians and the lights,<br> + then casts down the whip.]<br> + Out, shameful lights, and thou, to bed with thee,<br> + Puffed, swollen body; and ye bursting veins,<br> + Ye reddened eyes, and thou putrescent mouth,<br> + Off to a solitary bed, and night,<br> + Dark, noiseless night instead of brazen torches<br> + And blaring horns!</p> +<p class="right">[He motions the old man out.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shalnass</span>. <br> (bends with an effort to +take the whip).<br> + Mine is the whip, not thine!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (cries out).<br> + His father! Son and father for one woman!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (wrests the whip out of <span class="sc"> +Shalnassar</span>'S hand).<br> + Go thou to bed thyself, hot-headed Ganem,<br> + And leave together them that would be joined.<br> + Rebuke thy father not. An older man<br> + Can pass a sounder judgment, is more faithful<br> + Than wanton youth. Hast thou not company?<br> + Old Bachtjar's daughter stands there in the darkness,<br> + And often I've been told that she is fair.<br> + I know right well, thou wast in love with her.<br> + So then good night. [They all turn to go.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (wildly).<br> Go not +with him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (speaking backward over her +shoulder).<br> I go<br> + Where'er my heart commands.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (beseechingly).<br> +Go not with him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span>. <br> Oh, let us through: +there will be other days.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (lying before her on the stairs).<br> + Go not with him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gülistane</span> (turning around).<br> + Thou daughter of old Bachtjar,<br> + Keep him, I say, I want him not, I trample<br> + Upon his fingers with my feet! Seest thou?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (as if demented).<br> + Aye, aye, now let us dance a merry round!<br> + Take thou my hand and Ganem's; I Shalnassar's.<br> + Our hair we'll loosen, and that one of us<br> + That has the longer hair shall have the young one<br> + Tonight—tomorrow just the other way!<br> + King Baseness sits enthroned! And from our faces<br> + Lies drip like poison from the salamander!<br> + I claim my share in your high revelry.</p> + <p class="hang5">(To <span class="sc">Ganem</span>, who angrily + watches them mount<br> + the stairs.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Go up and steal her from thy father's bed<br> + And choke him sleeping: drunken men are helpless!<br> + I see how fain thou art to lie with her.<br> + When thou are sated or wouldst have a change,<br> + Then come to me, but softly we will tread,<br> + For heavy sleep comes not to my old husband,<br> + Such as they have, who can give ear to this,<br> + And then sleep through it!</p> +<p class="right">[She casts herself on the floor.]</p> + <p class="hang4">But with grievous howling<br> + I will arouse this house to shame and wrath<br> + And lamentation ...</p> + <p class="center">(She lies groaning.)</p> + <p class="hang4">... I have loved thee so,<br> + And so thou tramplest on me!</p> + <p class="hang5">[An old slave appears in the background,<br> + putting out the lights; he picks up a fallen<br> + fruit and eats it.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (claps his hands in sudden +anger).<br> + Come, take her out! Here is a shrieking woman,<br> + I scarcely know her, says she weeps for me.<br> + Her father fain would wed her to the merchant,<br> + The wealthy one, but she perverts the whole,<br> + And says her husband is a similar pander,<br> + But he's no more than fool, for aught I see.</p> + <p class="hang5">(He steps close to her, mockingly sympathetic.)</p> + <p class="hang4">O ye, too credulous by far. But then,<br> + Your nature's more to blame than skill of ours.<br> + No, get thee up. I will no more torment thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (raises herself up. Her voice +is hard).<br> + Then naught was true, and back of all is naught.<br> + From this I cannot cleanse myself again:<br> + What came into my soul today, remaineth.<br> + Another might dispel it: I'm too weary.</p> + <p class="center">(Stands up.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Away! I know my course, but now away<br> + From here!</p> + <p class="hang5">[The old slave has gone slowly down the<br> + stairs.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> I will not hold thee. +Yet the road—<br> + How wilt thou find it? Still, thou foundst it once.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> The road, the self-same +road!<br> + (She shudders.) Yon aged man<br> + Shall go with me. I have no fear, but still<br> + I would not be alone: until the dawn—</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Ganem</span> goes up stage to fetch the +slave.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Meseems I wear a robe to +which the pest<br> + And horrid traces of wild drunkenness<br> + And wilder nights are clinging, and I cannot<br> + Put off the robe, but all my flesh goes too.<br> + Now I must die, and all will then be well.<br> + But speedily, before this shadow-thinking<br> + About my father gathers blood again:<br> + Else 'twill grow stronger, drag me back to life,<br> + And I must travel onward in this body.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span> (slowly leads the old slave +forward).<br> + Give heed. This is rich Chorab's wife, the merchant.<br> + Hast understood?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span> (nods).<br> + The rich one.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> +Aye, thou shalt<br> + Escort her.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span>. <br> + What?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> I say, thou art +to lead her<br> + Back to her house.</p> + <p class="center">(<span class="sc">Old Slave</span> + nods.)</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Just +to the garden wall.<br> + From there I only know how I must go.<br> + Will he do that? I thank thee. That is good,<br> + Most good. Come, aged man, I go with thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganem</span>. <br> Go out this door, the +old man knows the path.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> He knows it, that is +good, most good. We go.</p> + <p class="hang5">[They go out through the door at the right.<br> + <span class="sc">Ganem</span> turns to mount the stairs.] + +<br> +<br> + +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">The garden of the rich merchant. The high wall runs from the +right foreground backward toward the left. Steps lead to a small latticed gate +in the wall. To the left a winding path is lost among the trees. It is early +morning. The shrubs are laden with blossoms, and the meadows are full of +flowers. In the foreground the gardener and his wife are engaged in taking +delicate blooming shrubs from an open barrow and setting them in prepared holes.</p> +<br> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> The rest are coming now. +But no, that is<br> + A single man ... The master!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> +What? He's up<br> + Ere dawn, and yesterday his wedding-day?<br> + Alone he walks the garden—that's no man<br> + Like other men.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> Be still, +he's coming hither.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (walks up slowly from the +left).<br> + The hour of morn, before the sun is up,<br> + When all the branches in the lifeless light<br> + Hang dead and dull, is terrible. I feel<br> + As if I saw the whole world in a frightful<br> + And vacant glass, as dreary as my mind's eye.<br> + O would all flowers might wither! Would my garden<br> + Were poisonous morass, filled to the full<br> + With rotted corpses of these blooming trees,<br> + And my corpse in their midst.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He is pulling to pieces a blossoming twig,<br> + stops short and drops it.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Ah, what a fool!<br> + A gray-haired fool, as old as + melancholy,<br> + Ridiculous as old! I'll sit me down<br> + And bind up wreaths and weep into the + water.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He walks on a few paces, lifts his hand as<br> + if involuntarily to his heart.]</p> + <p class="hang4">O how like glass this is, and how the finger<br> + With which fate raps upon it, like to iron!<br> + Years form no rings on men as on the trees,<br> + Nor fashion breast-plates to protect the heart.</p> + + <p class="hang5">[Again he walks a few paces, and so comes<br> + upon the gardener, who takes off his straw<br> + hat; he starts up out of his revery, and<br> + looks inquiringly at the gardener.]</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_280" href="#pixRef_280"><img src="images/pg280.png" alt="A_Brandenburg_Lake"></a></p> +<p class="center">A BRANDENBURG LAKE</p> +<p class="center">From the Painting by Walter Leistikow</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> + Thy servant Sheriar, lord; third gardener I.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> +What? Sheriar, Oh yes. And this thy wife?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> + Aye, lord.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> + But she is younger far than thou,<br> + And once thou cam'st to me to make complaint<br> + That she and some young lad,—I can't recall ...</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> It was the donkey-driver.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> + So I chased<br> + Him from my service, and she ran away.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span> (bowing low).<br> + Thou know'st the sacred courses of the stars,<br> + Yet thou rememberest the worm as well,<br> + That in the dust once crawled beside thy feet.<br> + 'Tis so, my lord. But she returned to me,<br> + And lives with me thenceforth.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> And +lives with thee?<br> + The fellow beat her, doubtless! Thou dost not.</p> +<p class="right">[He turns away, his tone becomes bitter.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Why, let us seat ourselves here in the grass,<br> + And each will tell his story to the other.<br> + He lives with her thenceforth. Why yes, he has her!<br> + Possession is the end of all! And folly<br> + It were to scorn the common, when our life<br> + Is made up of the common through and through.</p> + <p class="hang5">[Exit to the right with vigorous strides.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span> (to the gardener).<br> + What did he say to thee?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> + Oh, nothing, nothing.</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> and the + camel-driver appear at the<br> + latticed gate.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + I'll tell thee something.</p> +<p class="right">[Draws near him.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Look, look there!<br> + The bride! That is our master's bride!<br> + And see how pale and overwrought.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> + Pay heed<br> + To thine affairs.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + Look there, she has no veil,<br> + And see who's with her. Look. Why, that is none<br> + Of master's servants, is it?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span>. <br> + I don't know.</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Sobeide</span> puts her arm, + through the lattice,<br> + seeking the lock.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + She wants to enter. Hast thou not the key!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span> (looking up).<br> + Aye, that I have, and since she is the mistress,<br> + She must be served before she opes her lips.</p> + <p class="hang5">[He goes to the gate and unlocks it. <span class="sc"> + Sobeide</span><br> + enters, the old slave behind her. The<br> + gardener locks the gate. <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> walks<br> + forward with absent look, the old slave<br> + following. The gardener walks past her,<br> + takes off his straw hat, and is about to<br> + return to his work. The wife stands a few<br> + paces to the rear, parts the bushes curiously.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Pray tell me, is the +pond not here at hand,<br> + The big one, with the willows on its banks?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span> (pointing to the right).<br> + Down there it lies, my mistress, thou canst see it.<br> + But shall I guide thee?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (with a vehement gesture).<br> +No, no, leave me, go!</p> + <p class="hang5">[She is about to go off toward the right; the<br> + old slave catches her dress and holds her<br> + back. She turns. <span class="sc">Old Slave</span> holds out his<br> + hand like a beggar, but withdraws it at<br> + once in embarrassment.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> What?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span>. <br> + Thou art at home, I'm going back again.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Oh yes, and I have +robbed thee of thy sleep,<br> + And give thee naught for it. And thou art old<br> + And poor. But I have nothing, less than nothing!<br> + As poor as I no beggar ever was.</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Old Slave</span> screws up his + face to laugh, holds out his hand again.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (looks helplessly about her, +puts her hand to her<br> + hair, feels her pearl pendants, takes them off,<br> + and gives them to him).<br> + Take this, and this, and go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span> (shakes his head).<br> + Oh no, not that!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (in a torment of haste).<br> + I give them gladly, only go, I beg of thee!</p> +<p class="right">[Starts away.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span> (holds them in his hand).<br> + No, take them back. Give me some little coin.<br> + I'm but a poor old fool. And they would come,<br> + Shalnassar and the others, down upon me,<br> + And take the pearls away. For I am old<br> + And such a beggar. This would be my ruin.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> I have naught else. But +come again tonight<br> + And bring them to the master here, my husband.<br> + He'll give thee money for them.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span>. <br> +Thou'lt be here?<br> + Ask but for him; go now and let me go.</p> +<p class="right">[Starts away.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Slave</span> (holds her back).<br> + If he is kind, oh do thou pray for me,<br> + That he may take me as a servant. He<br> + Is rich and has so many. I am eager,<br> + Need little sleep. But in Shalnassar's house<br> + I always have such hunger in the evening.<br> + I will—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (frees herself).<br> + Just come tonight and speak to him,<br> + And say I wanted him to hear thy prayer.<br> + Now go, I beg thee, for I have no time.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The old slave goes toward the gate, but<br> + stands still in the shrubbery. The gardener's<br> + wife has approached <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> from the<br> + left. <span class="sc">Sobeide</span> takes a few steps, then + lets<br> + her vacant glance wander about, strikes<br> + her brow as if she had forgotten something.<br> + She suddenly stands still before the gardener's<br> + wife, looks at her absently, then<br> + inquires hastily:]</p> + <p class="hang4">The pond is there, I hear? The pond?</p> +<p class="right">[Points to the left.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + No, here.</p> +<p class="right">[Points to the right.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Here down this winding path. It turns right there.<br> + Wouldst overtake my lord? He's walking slowly:<br> + When thou art at the crossways, thou wilt see him.<br> + Thou canst not miss him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (more agitated).<br> + I, the master?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + Why yes, dost thou not seek him?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Him?—Yes, yes,<br> + Then—I'll—go—there.</p> + <p class="hang5">[Her glance roves anxiously, suddenly is<br> + fixed upon an invisible object at the left<br> + rear.]</p> + <p class="hang4">The tower, is it locked?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + The tower?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Yes, the +steps to mount it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + No,<br> + The tower's never locked, by day or night.<br> + Dost thou not know?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Oh +yes.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + Wilt thou go up it?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (smiling painfully).<br> + No, no, not now. Perhaps another time.</p> + <p class="center">(Smiling with a friendly gesture.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Go, then. Go, go.</p> + <p class="center">(Alone.)</p> + <p class="hang4">The tower, the tower!<br> + And quick. He comes from there. Soon 'tis too late.</p> + <p class="hang5">[She looks searchingly about her, walks<br> + slowly at first to the left, then runs through<br> + the shrubbery. The old slave, who has<br> + watched her attentively, slowly follows<br> + her.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span> (through with his work).<br> + Come here and help me, wife.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Wife</span>. <br> + Yes, right away.<br> + [They take up the barrow and carry it along<br> + toward the right.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (enters from the right.)<br> + I loved her so! Ah, how this life of ours<br> + Resembles dreams illusory. Today<br> + I might have had her, here and always, I!<br> + Possession is the whole: slow-growing power<br> + That sifts down through the soul's unseen and hidden<br> + Interstices, feeds thus the wondrous lamp<br> + Within the spirit, and soon from such eyes<br> + There bursts a mightier, sweeter gleam than moonlight.<br> + Oh, I have loved her so! I fain would see her,<br> + See her once more. My eye sees naught but death:<br> + The flowers wilt before my eyes like candles,<br> + When they begin to run: all, all is dying,<br> + And all dies to no purpose, for she is<br> + Not here—</p> + <p class="hang5">[The old camel-driver comes running from<br> + the left across the stage to the gardener<br> + and shows him something that seems to be<br> + happening rather high in the air to the left;<br> + the gardener calls his wife's attention to it,<br> + and all look.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (becomes aware of this, +follows the direction of<br> + their glances, grows deathly pale).<br> + God, God! Give answer! There, there, there!<br> + The woman on the tower, bending forward,<br> + Why does she so bend forward? Look, look<br> + there! [<span class="sc">Wife</span> shrieks and covers her face.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gardener</span> (runs to the left, looks, +calls back).<br> + She lives and moves! Come, master, come this way.</p> + <p class="hang5">[The merchant runs out, the gardener's wife<br> + following. Immediately thereafter the<br> + merchant, the gardener, and his wife come<br> + carrying <span class="sc">Sobeide</span>, and lay her down in the<br> + grass. The gardener takes off his outer<br> + garment and lays it under her head. The<br> + old camel-driver stands at some distance.]</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (kneeling).<br> + Thou breathest, thou wilt live for me, thou must!<br> + Thou art too fair to die!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span> (opens her eyes).<br> + Forbear, I'm dying; hush, I know it well.<br> + Dear husband, hush, I beg thee. Thee I had<br> + Not thought to see again—<br> + I need to crave thy pardon.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (tenderly).<br> + Thou!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> +Not this.<br> + This had to be.—No, what took place last night:<br> + I did to thee what should become no woman,<br> + And all my destiny I grasped and treated<br> + As I in dancing used to treat my veils.<br> + With fingers vain I tampered with my Self.<br> + Speak not, but understand.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> + What happened—then?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Ask not what happened; +ask me not, I beg thee.<br> + I had before been weary: 'twas the same<br> + Up to the end. But now 'tis easy. Thou<br> + Art good, I'll tell thee something else: my parents—<br> + Thou knowest how they are—I bid thee take them<br> + To live with thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> + Yes, yes, but thou wilt live.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> No, say not so; but +mark, I fain would tell thee<br> + A many things. Oh yes, that graybeard man.<br> + He's very poor, take him into thy house<br> + At my request.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> + Now thou shalt bide with me.<br> + I will thy every wish divine: breathe softly<br> + As e'er thou wilt, yet I will be the lyre<br> + To answer every breath with harmony,<br> + Until thou weary and bid it be still.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Say not such words, for +I am dizzy and<br> + They flicker in my eyes. Lament not much,<br> + I beg of thee. If I remained alive,<br> + All mangled as I am, I never could<br> + Bring children into life for thee; my body<br> + Would be so ugly, whereas formerly<br> + I know I had some beauty. This would be<br> + So hard for thee to bear and hide from me.<br> + But I shall die at once, I know, my dear.<br> + This is so strange: our spirits dwell in us<br> + Like captive birds. And when the cage is shattered,<br> + + It flies away. No, no, thou must not smile:<br> + I feel it is so. Look, the flowers know it,<br> + And shine the brighter since I know it too.<br> + Canst thou not understand? Mark well my words. [Pause.]<br> + Art thou still there, and I too, all this while?<br> + Oh, now I see thy face, and it is other<br> + Than e'er I saw till now. Art thou my husband?</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span>. <br> My child!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Sobeide</span>. <br> Thy spirit +seems to bend and lean<br> + Out of thine eyes, and oh, the words thou speakest!<br> + They quiver in the air, because the heart<br> + So quivers, whence they come. Weep not, I can<br> + Not bear it, for I love thee so. O let<br> + Me see as last of all thine eyes. We should<br> + Have lived together long and had our children.<br> + But now 'tis fearful—for my parents.</p> +<p class="right">[Dies.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Merchant</span> (half bowed).<br> + Thus noiseless falls a star. Meseems, her heart<br> + Was never close united with the world.<br> + And what have I of her, except this glance,<br> + Whose closing was involved in rigid Lethe,<br> + And in such words as by false breath of life<br> + Were made to sound so strong, e'en while they faded,<br> + Just as the wind, ere he lies down to sleep,<br> + Deceitful swells the sails as ne'er before.</p> +<p class="right">[He rises.]</p> +<p style="margin-left:7em;">Aye, lift her up. So bitter is this life:<br> + A wish was granted her, and that one door<br> + At which she lay with longing and desire<br> + Was oped—and back she came in such distress,<br> + Death-stricken, that but issued forth the evening prior—<br> + As fishers, cheeks with sun and moon afire,<br> + Prepare their nets—in hopes of great success.</p> +<p class="right">[They lift up the body to carry it in.]</p> +</div> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_schnitzler" href="#div1Ref_schnitzler">ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</a></h1> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2><a name="div2_cockatoo" href="#div2Ref_cockatoo">THE GREEN COCKATOO</a></h2> + +<h2>A Grotesque in One Act</h2> + +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Emile</span>, <i>Duc de Cadignan</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">François</span>, <i>Vicomte de Nogeant</i> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Albin</span>, <i>Chevalier de la Tremouille</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Marquis de Lansac</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>, <i>his wife</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>, <i>Poet</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Prosper</span> (<i>formerly Theatre Manager</i>), <span class="sc"> +Host</span></p> +<table style="text-align:left; width:50%;"> +<tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Henri</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Jules</span></td> +<td><b>\</b></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Etienne</span></td> +<td> <b>></b></td> +<td><i>His Troup</i></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Maurice</span></td> +<td><b>/</b></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Georgette</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Michette</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td style="border-right:solid black"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span></td> +<td></td> +<td></td> +</tr> +</table> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>, <i>Actress, wife of Henri</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>, <i>Philosopher</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>, <i>Tailor</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Grain</span>, <i>a vagabond</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">The Commissaire of Police</span></p> + +<p class="center">Nobles, Actors, Actresses, Citizens, and Citizens' Wives</p> +<p class="normal">The Action takes place in Paris in the evening of the 14th +July, 1789, in the underground tavern of <span class="sc">Prosper</span>. </p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>THE GREEN COCKATOO (1899)</h2> + +<h3>TRANSLATED BY HORACE SAMUEL</h3> + + + +<h3>SCENE.—THE TAVERN OF THE GREEN COCKATOO</h3> + + +<p class="normal">A medium-sized underground room. Seven steps lead down to it +on the Right (rather far back). The stairs are shut off by a door on top. A +second door which is barely visible is in the background on the Left. A number +of simple wooden tables with chairs around them fill nearly the whole room. On +the Left in the Centre is a bar; behind the bar a number of barrels with pipes. +The room is lighted by small oil lamps which hang from the ceiling.</p> + +<p class="center">The <span class="sc">Host</span>, <span class="sc">Prosper</span>. +Enter the citizens <span class="sc">Lebrêt</span> and <span class="sc">Grasset</span>. </p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (coming down the steps). Come +in, Lebrêt. I know the tap. My old friend and chief has always got a cask of +wine smuggled away somewhere or other, even when all the rest of Paris is +perishing of thirst.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Good evening, Grasset. So you +show your face again, do you? Away with Philosophy! Have you a wish to take an +engagement with me again?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. The idea! Bring some wine +rather. I am the guest—you the host.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Wine? Where shall I get wine +from, Grasset? They've sacked all the wine-shops in Paris this very night. And I +would lieve wager that you had a hand therein.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Out with the wine. The mob who +are coming an hour after us are bound— (Listening.) Do you hear anything, +Labrêt?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. It is like slight thunder.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Good!—Citizens of Paris— (To <span class="sc"> +Host</span>. ) You're sure to have another barrel in reserve for the mob—so out +with our wine; my friend and admirer, the Citizen Labrêt, tailor of the Rue St. +Honoré, will pay for everything.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_290" href="#pixRef_290"><img src="images/pg290.png" alt="Arthur_Schnitzler"></a></p> +<p class="center">ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span> Certainly, certainly, I will +pay.</p> + <p class="right">[<span class="sc">Host</span> + hesitates.]</p> + + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Show him that you have money, +Labrêt.</p> + <p class="right">[<span class="sc">Lebrêt</span> + draws out his purse.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Now I will see if I— (He opens +the cock of a barrel and fills two glasses.) Where do yon come from, Grasset? +The Palais-Royal?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. For sure—I made a speech +there. Ay, my good friend, it is my turn now. Do you know whom I spoke after?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. After Camille Desmoulins. Yes, +indeed, I dared to do it. And tell me, Labrêt, who had the greater +applause—Desmoulins or I?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. You—without a doubt.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. And how did I bear myself?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Splendidly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Do you hear, Prosper? I placed +myself on the table—I looked like a monument—indeed I did—and all the +thousands—five thousands, ten thousands, assembled round me—just as they had +done before round Camille Desmoulins—and cheered me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. It was a louder cheer,</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Indeed it was ... not much +louder, but it was louder. And now they're all moving toward the Bastille ... +and I make bold to say they have followed my call. I swear to you before the +evening is out we shall have it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Yes, to be sure, if the walls +fall down before your speeches!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. What—speeches—are you deaf? +'Tis a case of shooting now. Our valiant soldiers are there. They have the same +hellish fury against the accursed prison as we have. They know that their +brothers and fathers sit imprisoned behind those walls.... But there would have +been no shooting if we had not spoken. My dear Prosper, great is the power of +intellect. There—(to <span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>) where are the papers?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Here! (Pulls pamphlets out of +his pocket.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Here are the latest pamphlets +which have just been distributed in the Palais-Royal. Here is one by my friend +Cerutti—"Memorial for the French People;" here is one by Desmoulins, who +certainly speaks better than he writes—"Free France."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. When's your own pamphlet going to +appear—the one you're always talking about, you know?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. We need no more. The time has +come for deeds. Anyone who sits within his four walls today is a knave. Every +real man must go out into the streets.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Bravo!—Bravo!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. In Toulon they have killed the +mayor; in Brignolles they have sacked a dozen houses; but we in Paris are always +sluggards and will put up with anything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You can scarcely say that now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. (who has been drinking +steadily). Up, you citizens, up!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Up! Lock up your shop and come +with us now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I'll come right enough, when the +time comes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Ay, to be sure, when there is +no more danger.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. My good friend, I love Liberty as +well as you do, but my calling comes before everything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. There is only one calling now +for citizens of Paris—freeing their brothers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Yes, for those who have nothing +else to do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. What says he? He makes game of +us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Never dreamt of it. But now, my +friends, look to it that you go away—my performance will begin in a minute, and +I can't find you a job in it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. What performance? Is this a +theatre?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Certainly, 'tis a theatre. Why, +only a fortnight ago your friend was playing here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Were you playing here, +Grasset?... Why do you let the fellow jeer at you like that without punishing +him?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Calm yourself—it is true; I +did play here. This is no ordinary tavern: 'tis a den of thieves. Come.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You'll pay first.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. If this is a den of thieves I +won't pay a single sou.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Explain to your friend where he +is.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. This is a strange place. +People who play criminals come here—and others who are criminals without +suspecting it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Indeed?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. I would have you mark that +what I just said was very witty; it is positively capable of making the +substance of a whole speech.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. I don't understand a word of +all you say.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. I was simply telling you that +Prosper was my manager. And he is still playing comedy with his actors, but a +different kind from before. My former gentlemen and lady colleagues sit around +and behave as though they were criminals. Do you understand! They tell +blood-curdling stories of things that have never happened to them—speak of +crimes they have never committed ... and the audience that comes here enjoys the +pleasant titillation of hobnobbing with the most dangerous rabble in +Paris—swindlers, burglars, murderers—and—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. What kind of an audience?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. The most elegant people in Paris.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Noble—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Gentlemen of the Court.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Down with them!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. It does 'em good. It gives a +fillip to their jaded senses. 'Twas here that I made my start, Labrêt—here that +I delivered my first speech as though for a joke; here it was that I first began +to hate the dogs who sat amongst us with all their fine clothes and perfumes and +rottenness ... and I am very glad indeed, my good Labrêt, that you, too, should +see just for once the place from which your great friend raised himself. (In +another tone.) I say, Prosper, supposing the business doesn't come off—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What business?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Why, my political career—will +you engage me again?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Not for anything!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (lightly). Why—I thought there +might be still room for somebody besides your Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Apart from that ... I should be +afraid that you might forget yourself one fine day and fall foul in earnest of +one of my paying customers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (flattered). That would +certainly be possible—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I—I have control over myself—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Frankly, Prosper, I must say +that I would admire you for your self-control, if I happened not to know that +you are a poltroon.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Ah! my friend, I am satisfied +with what I can do in my own line. I get enough pleasure out of being able to +tell the fellows my opinion of them to their faces and to insult them to my +heart's content—while they take it for a joke. That, too, is a way of venting +one's wrath. (Draws a dagger and makes it flash.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Citizen Prosper, what is the +meaning of this?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Have no fear. I wager that the +dagger is not even sharpened.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. In that, my friend, you may be +making a mistake. One fine day the jest may turn to earnest—and so I am ready +for all emergencies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. The day is nigh. We live in +great times. Come, Citizen Labrêt, we will go to our comrades. Farewell, +Prosper; you will see me either a great man or never again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span> (giddily). As a great man—or—not +at all.</p> +<p class="hang2">[Exeunt. <span class="sc">Host</span> remains behind, sits on a +table, opens a pamphlet, and reads aloud.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. "Now that the beast is in the +noose, throttle it." He doesn't write badly, that little Desmoulins. "Never was +richer booty offered to the victors. Forty thousand palaces and castles, +two-fifths of all the property in France, will be the reward of valor. Those who +plume themselves on being conquerors will be put beneath the yoke, the nation +will be purged."</p> +<p class="center">Enter the <span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. </p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (sizing him up). Hallo—the +rabble's beginning to come in pretty early tonight.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. My dear Prosper, don't +start any of your jokes on me; I am the Commissaire of your district.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. And how can I be of any service?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. I have orders to attend +the performance in your tavern this evening.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. It will be an especial honor for +me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. 'Tis nothing of that, my +excellent Prosper. The authorities wish to have definite information as to what +really goes on in your place. For some weeks—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. This is a place of amusement, M. +le Commissaire—nothing more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Let me finish what I was +saying. For some weeks past this place is said to have been the theatre of wild +orgies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You are falsely informed, M. le +Commissaire. We make jokes here, nothing more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. It begins with that, I +know. But it finishes up in another way, so I am informed. You have been an +actor.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. A manager, sir—manager of a +first-class troupe who last played in Denis.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. That is immaterial. Then +you came into a small legacy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Not worth speaking about, M. le +Commissaire.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Your troupe split up.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. And my legacy as well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span> (smiling). Very well! (Both +smile. Suddenly serious.) You started a tavern.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. That fared wretchedly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. After which you had an +idea that, which, as one must admit, possesses a certain quantum of originality.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You make me quite proud, sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. You gathered your troupe +together again, and have a comedy played here which is of a peculiar and by no +means harmless character.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. If it were harmful, M. le +Commissaire, I should not have my audience—the most aristocratic audience in +Paris, I'm in a position to say. The Vicomte de Nogeant is my daily customer. +The Marquis de Lansac often comes, and the Duc de Cadignan, M. le Commissaire, +is the most enthusiastic admirer of my leading actor, the celebrated Henri +Baston.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. As well as of the art or +arts of your actresses.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. When you get to know my little +actresses, M. le Commissaire, you won't blame anybody in the whole world for +that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Enough. The authorities +have been informed that the entertainments which your—what shall I say—?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. The word "artists" ought to +suffice.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. I will decide on the word +"subjects"—that the entertainments which your subjects provide transgress in +every sense the limits the laws allow. Speeches are said to be delivered by +your—what shall I say?—by your artist-criminals which—what does my information +say?—(he reads from a notebook, as he had been doing previously) which are +calculated to produce not only an immoral effect, which would bother us but +little, but a highly seditious effect—a matter to which the authorities +absolutely cannot be indifferent, at a time so agitated as the one in which we +live.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. M. le Commissaire, I can only +answer that accusation by politely inviting you to see the thing just once for +yourself. You will observe that nothing of a seditious nature takes place here, +if only because my audience will not permit itself to be made seditious. There +is simply a theatrical performance here, that is all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. I naturally cannot accept +your invitation, but I will stay here by virtue of my office.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I think I can promise you a +first-class entertainment, M. le Commissaire; but I will take the liberty of +advising you to doff your official garb and to appear here in civilian clothes. +If people actually saw a Commissaire in uniform here, both the spontaneity of my +artists and the mood of my audience would suffer thereby.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. You are right, M. Prosper; +I will go away and come back as an elegant young man.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You will have no difficulty about +that, M. le Commissaire. You would be welcomed here even as a vagabond—that +would not excite attention—but not as a Commissaire.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Good-by. (Starts to go.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (bowing). When will the blessed +day come when I can treat you and your damned likes—?</p> +<p class="hang2">[The <span class="sc">Commissaire</span> meets <span class="sc"> +Grain</span> in the doorway. + <span class="sc">Grain</span> is in absolute rags and gives a start when +he sees the <span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. The latter looks at him first, +smiles, and then turns courteously to <span class="sc">Host</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. One of your artists +already? [Exit.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span> (whining pathetically). Good +evening.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (after looking at him for a long +time). If you're one of my troupe, I won't grudge you my recognition ... of your +art, because I don't recognize you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. No jests now; take off your wig; +I'd rather like to know who you are. (He pulls at his hair.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Oh, dear!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. But 'tis genuine! Heavens—who are +you? You appear to be a real ragamuffin.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I am!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What do you want of me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Have I the honor of speaking to +Citizen Prosper?—the host of The Green Cockatoo?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I am he.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. My name is Grain, sometimes +Carniche—very often Shrieking Pumice-stone; but I was sent to prison, Citizen +Prosper, under the name of Grain, and that is the real point.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Ah, I understand. You want to +play in my establishment and start off with playing me. Good. Go on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Citizen Prosper, don't look upon +me as a swindler. I am a man of honor. If I tell you that I was imprisoned, 'tis +the complete truth.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Host</span> looks at him suspiciously.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span> (pulling a paper out of his pocket). Here, Citizen +Prosper, you can see from this that I was let out yesterday afternoon at four +o'clock.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. After two years' imprisonment! +Zounds, 'tis genuine!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Were you all the time doubting +it, then. Citizen Prosper?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. + What did you do to get two years?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I would have been hanged; but I +was lucky enough to be still half a child when I killed my poor aunt.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Nay, fellow, how can a man kill +his own aunt?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Citizen Prosper, I would never +have done it if my aunt had not deceived me with my best friend.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Your aunt?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. That's it—she was dearer to me +than aunts usually are to their nephews. The family relations were peculiar—it +made me embittered, most embittered. May I tell you about it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Go on telling—perhaps you and I +will be able to do business together.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. My sister was but half a child +when she ran away from home—and whom do you think she went with?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. 'Tis difficult to guess.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. With her uncle. And he left her +in the lurch—with a child—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. A whole one, I hope.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. 'Tis indelicate of you, Citizen +Prosper, to jest about such things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I'll tell you what, Shrieking +Pumice-stone, you—your family history bores me. Do you think I'm here to listen +to every Tom, Dick, or Harry o' a ragamuffin telling me whom he has killed? +What's all that go to do with me? I take it you wish something of me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Ay, truly. Citizen Prosper; I've +come to ask you for work.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (sarcastically). I would have you +mark that there are no aunts to murder in my place—this is a house of +entertainment.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Oh, I found the once quite +enough. I want to become a respectable member of society—I was recommended to +come to you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. By whom, if I may ask?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. A charming young man whom they +put in my cell three days ago. Now he's alone. His name's Gaston!... and you +know him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Gaston! Now I know why I've +missed him for three evenings. One of my best interpreters of pickpockets. He +told yarns—ah! it made 'em split their sides.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Quite so. And now they've nabbed +him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Nabbed—what do you mean? He +didn't really steal I suppose.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Yes, he did. But it must have +been the first time, for he seems to have gone about it with incredible +clumsiness. Just think of it—(confidentially)—just made a grab at the pocket of +a lady in the Boulevard des Capucines, and pulled out her purse—an absolute +amateur. You inspire me with confidence, Citizen Prosper, and so I'll make a +confession to you. There was a time when I, too, transacted little bits of +business of that sort, but never without my dear father. When I was still a +child, when we all lived together, when my poor aunt was still alive—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What are you moaning for! I think +'tis in bad taste. You ought not to have killed her.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Too late. But the point I was +coming to is—take me on here. I will do just the opposite of Gaston. He played +the thief and became one—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I will give you a trial. You will +produce a fine effect with your make-up. And at a given moment you'll just +describe the aunt matter—how it all happened—someone or other will be sure to +ask you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I thank you, Citizen Prosper. +And with regard to my wages—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Tonight you will play on trial, +and I am, therefore, not yet in a position to pay you wages. But you will get +good stuff to eat and drink; and I shall not mind a franc or so for a night's +lodging.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I thank you. And just introduce +me to your other colleagues as a visitor from the provinces.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Oh, no. We will tell them right +away that you are a real murderer. They will much prefer that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Pardon me. I don't wish to do +anything against my interests, but I don't see why—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. When you have been on the boards +a bit longer, you will understand.</p> + +<p class="center">Enter <span class="sc">Scaevola</span> and <span class="sc"> +Jules</span>. </p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Good evening, Chief.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. How many times have I got to tell +you that the whole joke falls flat if you call me Chief?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Well, whatever you are, I +don't think we shall play tonight.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. And why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. The people won't be in the +mood. There's a hellish uproar in the streets, and in front of the Bastille +especially they are yelling like men possessed.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What matters that to us? The +shouting has been going on for months, and our audience hasn't stayed away from +us. It goes on diverting itself just as it did before.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Ay, it has the gaiety of +people who are shortly going to be hanged.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. If only I live to see it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. In the meanwhile, give us +something to drink to get me into the vein. I don't feel at all in the vein +tonight.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. That's often the case with you, +my friend. I must tell you that I was most dissatisfied with you last night.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Why so, if I may ask?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. The story about the burglary was +simply babyish.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Babyish?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. To be sure. Absolutely +incredible. Mere roaring is of no avail.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. I didn't roar.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You are always roaring. It will +really be necessary for me to rehearse things with you. One can never rely on +your inspirations. Henri is the only one.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Henri—never anything but +Henri! Henri simply plays to the gallery. My burglary of last night was a +masterpiece. Henri will never do anything as good as that as long as he lives. +If I don't satisfy you, my friend, then I'll just go to a proper theatre. +Anyhow, yours is nothing but a cheap-jack establishment. Hallo! (Notices <span class="sc"> +Grain</span>. ) Who is this! He isn't one of our lot, is he? Perhaps you've just +engaged someone? But what a make-up the fellow has!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Calm yourself. 'Tis not a +professional actor. 'Tis a real murderer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Oh, indeed. (Goes up to him.) +Very glad to know you. My name is Scaevola.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. My name is Grain.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Jules</span> has been walking around in the +room the whole time, frequently standing still, like a man tortured inwardly.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What ails you, Jules?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span>. I am learning my part.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span>. Remorse. Tonight I am playing a +man who is a prey to remorse. Look at me. What do you think of the furrow in the +forehead here? Do I not look as though all the furies of hell—(Walks up and +down.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span> (roars). Wine—wine, here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Calm yourself.... There is no +audience yet.</p> +<p class="center">Enter <span class="sc">Henri</span> and <span class="sc"> +Léocadie</span>. </p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Good evening. (He greets those +sitting at the back with a light wave of his hand.) Good evening, gentlemen.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Good evening, Henri. What do I +see?—you and Léocadie together?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span> (who has noticed <span class="sc"> +Léocadie</span>, to <span class="sc">Scaevola</span>). Why, I know her. (Speaks +softly with the others.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Yes, my dear Prosper, it is +I.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I have not seen you for a year on +end. Let me greet you. (He tries to kiss her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Stop that. (His eyes often rest +on <span class="sc">Léocadie</span> with pride and passion, but also a certain +anxiety.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. But, Henri—as between old +comrades—your old chief Léocadie!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Oh, the good old times. +Prosper!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What are you sighing about? When +a wench has made her way in the way you have! No doubt about it, a pretty young +woman has always a much easier time of it than we have.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (wild with rage). Stop it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Why the deuce do you keep on +shouting at me like that? Because you've picked up with her once more?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Hold your tongue—she became my +wife yesterday.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Your ...? (To <span class="sc"> +Léocadie</span>. ) Is he joking?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. He has really married me. +Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Then I congratulate you.... I +say, Scaevola, Jules, Henri is married.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span> (comes to the front). I wish +you joy (winks at <span class="sc">Léocadie</span>).</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Jules</span> shakes hands with them both.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span> (to <span class="sc">Host</span>). Ah! How +strange! I saw that woman—a few minutes after I was let out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. She was the first pretty woman +I'd seen for two years. I was very moved. But it was another gentleman with +whom— (Goes on speaking to <span class="sc">Host</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (in an exalted tone as though +inspired, but not theatrically). Léocadie, my love, my wife ... all the past is +over now. A great deal is blotted out on an occasion like this.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Scaevola</span> and <span class="sc">Jules</span> +have gone to the back. <span class="sc">Host</span> + comes forward again.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What sort of occasion?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. We are united now by a holy +sacrament. That means more than any human oath. God is now watching over us, and +one ought to forget everything which has happened before. Léocadie, a new age is +dawning. Everything becomes holy now, Léocadie. Our kisses, however wild they +may be, are holy from henceforth. Léocadie, my love, my wife! (He contemplates +her with an ardent glance.) Isn't her expression quite different. Prosper, from +what you ever knew her to have before? Is not her forehead pure! What has been +is blotted out—not so, Léocadie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Surely, Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. And all is well. We leave Paris +tomorrow. Léocadie makes her last appearance tonight at the Porte St. Martin, +and I am placing here tonight for the last time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Are you mad, Henri? Do you want +to desert me? Besides, the manager of the Porte St. Martin will never think of +letting Léocadie go away. Why, she makes the fortune of his house. The young +gentlemen stream thither, so they say.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Hold your peace. Léocadie will +go with me. She will never desert me. Tell me that you will never desert me, +Léocadie. (Brutally.) Tell me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. I will never desert you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. If you did, I would ... (pause). +I am sick of this life. I want quiet—I wish to have quiet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. But what do you want to do then, +Henri? It is quite ridiculous. I will make you a proposition. So far as I am +concerned, take Léocadie from the Porte St. Martin, but let her stay here with +me. I will engage her. Anyway, I have rather a dearth of talented women +characters.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. My mind is made up. Prosper. We +are leaving town. We are going into the country.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Into the country? But where?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. To my old father, who lives +alone in our poor village—I haven't seen him for seven years. He has almost +given up hope of ever seeing his lost son again. He will welcome me with joy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Prosper</span>. What will you do in the +country? In the country they all starve. People are a thousand times worse off +there than in town. What on earth will you do there? You are not the man to till +the fields. Don't imagine you are.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Time will prove that I am the +man to do even that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Soon there won't be any corn +growing in any part of France. You are going to certain misery.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. To happiness. Prosper. Not so, +Léocadie? We have often dreamt of it. I yearn for the peace of the wide plains. +Yes, Prosper, I have seen myself in my dreams going over the fields with her, in +an infinite stillness with the wonderful placid heavens over us. Ay, we will +flee from this awful and dangerous town; the great peace will come over us. Is +it not true, Léocadie, that we have often had such dreams?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Yes, we have often had such +dreams.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Look here, Henri, you should +consider it. I will gladly raise your wages and I will give Léocadie quite as +much as you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Hear you that, Henri?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I really don't know who's to take +your place here. Not a single one of my people has such precious inspirations as +you have, not one of them is so popular with my audience as you ... don't go +away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. I can quite believe that no one +will take my place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Stay by me, Henri. (Throws <span class="sc"> +Léocadie</span> a look; she intimates that she will arrange matters.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. And I can promise you that they +will take my departure to heart—they, not I. For tonight—for my final appearance +I have reserved something that will make them all shudder ... a foreboding of +the end of this world will come over them ... for the end of their world is +nigh. But I shall only experience it from a safe distance ... they will tell us +about it out there, Léocadie, many days after it has happened.... But I tell +you, they will shudder. And you yourself will say, "Henri has never played so +well."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What are you going to play? What? +Do you know what, Léocadie?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. I never know anything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. But has anyone any idea of what +an artist lies hidden within me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. They certainly have an idea, and +that's why I tell you that a man with a talent such as yours doesn't go and bury +himself in the country. What an injustice to yourself! and to Art!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. I don't care a straw about Art. +I wish for quiet. You don't understand that, Prosper; you have never loved—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. As I love. I want to be alone +with her—that's the only way ... that's the only way, Léocadie, of forgetting +everything. But then we shall be happier than human beings have ever been +before. We shall have children; you will be a good mother, Léocadie, and a true +wife. All the past, all the past will be blotted out. (Great pause.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. 'Tis getting late, Henri. I +must go to the theatre. Farewell, Prosper; I am glad at last to have seen your +famous den, the place where Henri scores such triumphs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. But why did you never come?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Henri would not let +me—because I should have to sit next to the young men, you know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (has gone to the back). Give me a +drink, Scaevola. (He drinks.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to <span class="sc">Léocadie</span>, +when <span class="sc">Henri</span> is out of hearing). Henri is an arrant +fool—if you had only sat next to them!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Now then! no remarks of that +sort.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Take my tip and be careful, you +silly gutter-brat. He will kill you one of these days.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. What's up, then?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You were seen only yesterday with +one of your fellows.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. That was not a fellow, you +blockhead; that was—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (turns round quickly). What's the +matter with you? No jokes, if you don't mind. No more whispering. No more +secrets now. She is my wife.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What did you give her for a +wedding present?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Heavens! he never thinks +about such things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Well, you shall have one this +very night.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span> and <span class="sc">Jules</span>. +What are you going to give her?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (quite seriously). When you have +finished your scene, you must come here and see me act. (They laugh.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. No woman ever had a more +glorious wedding present. Come, Léocadie. Good-by for the present, Prosper. I +shall soon be back again.</p> +<p class="right">[Exeunt <span class="sc">Henri</span> and <span class="sc"> +Léocadie</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="center">Enter together <span class="sc">François</span>, Vicomte de +Nogeant, and <span class="sc">Albin</span>, Chevalier de la Tremouille.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. What a contemptible braggart!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Good evening, you swine. [<span class="sc">Albin</span> +starts back.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (without taking any notice). +Was not that the little Léocadie of the Porte St. Martin, who went away with +Henri?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Of course it was.—If she really +took great trouble she could eventually make you remember that even you are +something of a man, eh?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (laughing). That is not +impossible. It seems we are rather early tonight.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. In the meanwhile you can amuse +yourself with your minion.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Albin</span> is on the point of flying into a +passion.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Let it pass. I told you what +went on here. Bring us wine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Ay, that I will. The time will +soon come when you will be very satisfied with Seine water.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Quite so, quite so ... but +tonight I would fain ask for wine, and the best wine into the bargain.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Host</span> goes to the bar.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. That is really a dreadful +fellow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. But just think, it's all a +joke. And, withal, there are places where you can hear similar things in real +earnest.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Is it not forbidden?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (laughs). One sees that you +come from the provinces.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Ah! we, too, are having a bad +time of it nowadays. The peasants are getting so insolent ... one doesn't know +what to do any more....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. What would you have? The poor +devils are hungry—that is the secret.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. How can I help it? How can my +great-uncle help it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Why do you mention your +great-uncle?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Well, I do so because they +actually held a meeting in our village—quite openly—and at the meeting they +actually called my great-uncle, the Comte de Tremouille, a corn-usurer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Is that all?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Nay, is that not enough!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. We will go to the +Palais-Royal tomorrow, and there you will have a chance of hearing the monstrous +speeches the fellows make. But we let them speak—it is the best thing to do. +They are good people at bottom; one must let them bawl themselves out in that +way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (pointing to <span class="sc"> +Scaevola</span>, etc.). What suspicious characters those are! Just see how they +look at one. (He feels for his sword.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (draws his hand away). Don't +be ridiculous. (To the three others.) You need not begin yet; wait till there is +more audience. (To <span class="sc">Albin</span>. ) They're the most respectable +people in the world, actors are. I will warrant you have already sat at table +with worse knaves.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. But they were better attired. [<span class="sc">Host</span> +brings wine.]</p> + +<p class="center">Enter <span class="sc">Michette</span> and <span class="sc"> +Flipotte</span>. </p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. God be with you, children! +Come and sit down by us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Here we are. Come along, +Flipotte. She is still somewhat shy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. Good evening, young +gentleman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Good evening, ladies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. The little one is a dear. +(She sits on <span class="sc">Albin's</span> lap.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. But, François, please explain, +are these respectable ladies?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. What does he say?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. No, that's not quite the word +for the ladies who come here. Odds life, you are silly, Albin!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What shall I bring for their +Graces?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Bring me a very sweet wine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (pointing to <span class="sc"> +Flipotte</span>). A friend of yours?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. We live together. Yes, we +have only one bed between us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span> (blushing). Would you find it +a very great nuisance should you come and see her! (Sits on <span class="sc"> +François's</span> lap.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. She is not at all shy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span> (stands up; gloomily turning +to the table where the young people are). At last I've found you. (To <span class="sc"> +Albin</span>. ) And you, you miserable seducer, aren't you ashamed that you ... +She is mine.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Host</span> looks on.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (to <span class="sc">Albin</span>). +a joke—a joke....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. She isn't his—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Go away. You let me sit where +I want to.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Scaevola</span> stands there with clenched +fists.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (behind). Now, now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Ha, ha!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (takes him by the collar). Ha, ha! +(By his side.) You have not a farthing's worth of talent. Roaring, that's the +only thing you can do.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span> (to <span class="sc">François</span>). +Recently he did it much better.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span> (to <span class="sc">Host</span>). +I'm not in the vein. I'll make a better show later on, when more people are +here; you see. Prosper, I need an audience.</p> + +<p class="center">Enter the DUC DE CADIGNAN.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Already in full swing!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Michette</span> and <span class="sc">Flipotte</span> +go up to him.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. My sweet Duke.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Good evening, <span class="sc"> +Emile</span> ... (introducing) My young friend, Albin, Chevalier de +Tremouille—the Duc de Cadignan.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. I am delighted to make your +acquaintance. (To the girls, who are hanging on to him.) Leave me alone, +children! (To <span class="sc">Albin</span>. ) So you, too, are having a look at +this droll tavern?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. It bewilders me in the extreme.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. The Chevalier has only been +in Paris a few days.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (laughing). Then you have +certainly chosen a nice time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. How so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. He still has that delicious +perfume! There isn't another man in Paris who has such a pleasant smell. (To <span class="sc"> +Albin</span>. ) ... You can't perceive it like that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. She speaks of the seven or eight +hundred whom she knows as well as me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. Will you let me play with +your sword, dear?</p> +<p class="hang2">[She draws his sword out of its sheath and flashes it about.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span> (to Host). He's the man—'twas him +I saw her with—</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Host</span> lets him go on, seems +astonished.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Henri is not here yet, then? (To <span class="sc"> +Albin</span>. ) If you see him, you will not regret having come here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to <span class="sc">Duke</span>). +Oh, so you're here again, are you? I am glad. We shall not have the pleasure +much longer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Why? I find it very nice at your +place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. I believe that. But since in any +case you will be one of the first ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What does that mean!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You understand me well enough. +The favorites of fortune will be the first! (Goes to the back.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (after reflection). If I were +king, I would make him my Court Fool; I mean to say, I should have many Court +Fools, but he would be one of them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What did he mean by saying that +you were too fortunate?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. He means, Chevalier ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Please, don't call me Chevalier. +Everybody calls me Albin, simply Albin, just because I look so young.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (smiling). Good.... But you must +call me Emile—eh?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. With pleasure, if you allow it, +Emile.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_310" href="#pixRef_310"><img src="images/pg310.png" alt="Henrik_Ibsen"></a></p> +<p class="center">HENRIK IBSEN.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. They have a sinister wit, have +these people.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Why sinister? I find it quite +reassuring. So long as the mob is in the mood for jests, it will never come to +anything serious.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Only the jests are much too +strange. I learnt a thing today that gives food for thought.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Tell us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span> and <span class="sc">Michette</span>. +Ay, tell us, sweet Duke!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Do you know Lelange?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Of course—the village ... the +Marquis de Montferrat has one of his finest hunts there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Quite right; my brother is now at +the castle with him, and he has written home about the things I am going to tell +you. They have a mayor at Lelange who is very unpopular.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. If you can tell me the name +of one who is popular—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Just listen. The women of the +village paraded in front of the mayor's house with a coffin.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. What? Did they carry it? +Carry a coffin? I wouldn't like to carry a coffin for anything in the world.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Hold your tongue. Nobody is +asking you to carry a coffin. (To the <span class="sc">Duke</span>. ) Well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. And one or two of the women went +into the mayor's house and explained to him that he must die, but they would do +him the honor of burying him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Well, have they killed him?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. No; at least, my brother doesn't +write anything about it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Well then ... blusterers, +talkers, clowns—that's what they are. Today they're roaring in Paris at the +Bastille for a change, just as they've already done half a dozen times before +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Well, if I were king I should +have made an end of it long ago.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Is it true that the king is so +good-natured?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. You have not yet been presented +to His Majesty?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. This is the first time the +Chevalier has been in Paris.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Yes, you are incredibly young. +How old, if I may ask?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. I only look so young; I am +already seventeen.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Seventeen!—how much is still in +front of you! I am already four-and-twenty!... I am beginning to regret how much +of my youth I have missed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (laughs). That is good. You, +Duke—you count every day lost in which you have not conquered a woman or killed +a man.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Only the unfortunate thing is +that one never makes a conquest of the right woman, and always kills the wrong +man. And that as a matter of fact is how one misses one's youth. You know what +Rollin says?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. What does Rollin say?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. I was thinking of his new piece +that they are playing at the Comédie—there is such a pretty simile in it. Don't +you remember?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. I have no memory for verses.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Nor have I, unfortunately ... I +only remember the sense. He says, youth which a man does not enjoy is like a +feather-ball, which you leave lying in the sand instead of throwing it up into +the air.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (like a wiseacre). I think that +is quite right.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Is it not true? The feathers +gradually lose their color and fall out. 'Tis better for it to fall into a bush +where it cannot be found.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. How should one understand that, +Emile?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. 'Tis more a matter of feeling +than of understanding. If I could repeat the verses, you would understand it at +once.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. I have an idea, Emile, that you, +too, could make verses if you wished.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Since you have been here, it +seems to me as though life were flaming up.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (smiling). Yes? Is life flaming +up?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Won't you come and sit with +us after all?</p> +<p class="hang2">[Meanwhile, two nobles come in and sit down at a distant table. <span class="sc"> +Host</span> appears to be addressing insults to them.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. I cannot stay here. But in any +case I will come back again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Stay with me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. Take me with you. (They try +to hold him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (coming to the front). Just you +leave him alone. You're not bad enough for him by a long way. He's got to run +after a whore off the streets—that's where he feels most in his element.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. I shall certainly come back, if +only not to miss Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. What do you think, when we +came, Henri was just going out with Léocadie.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Really—he has married her. Did +you know that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Is that so? What will the +others have to say to it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What others?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. She is loved all around, you +know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. And he wants to go away with her +... what do I know about it?... Somebody told me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Indeed? Did they tell you? +(Glances at the <span class="sc">Duke</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (having first looked at <span class="sc"> +Host</span>). It is too silly. Léocadie was made to be the greatest, the most +splendid whore in the world.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Who doesn't know that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Could anything be more +unreasonable than to take people away from their true calling? (As <span class="sc"> +François</span> laughs.) I am not joking. Whores are born, not made—just as +conquerors and poets are.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. You are paradoxical.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. I am sorry for her, and for +Henri. He should stay here—no, not here—I should like to bring him to the +Comédie—though even there—I always feel as though nobody understood him as well +as I do. Of course, that may be an illusion, since I have the same feeling in +regard to most artists. But I must say if I were not the Duc de Cadignan, I +should really like to be a comedian like him—like him, I say ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Like Alexander the Great.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span> (smiling). Yes, Alexander the +Great.... (To <span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. ) Give me my sword. (He puts it +in the sheath. Slowly.) It is the finest way of making fun of the world; a man +who can play any part and at the same time play us is greater than all of us. (<span class="sc">Albin</span> +looks at him in astonishment.) Don't you reflect on what I say. 'Tis all only +true at the actual moment. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Give me a kiss before you go.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. Me too!</p> +<p class="hang2">[They hang on to him, the Duke kisses them both at once and +goes. In the meanwhile:]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. a wonderful man!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. That is quite true; ... but +the existence of men like that is almost a reason for not marrying.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. But do explain; what are those +girls?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Actresses. They, too, belong +to the troupe of Prosper, who is at present the host of the tavern. No doubt +they've done in the past much the same as they're doing now.</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Guillaume</span> rushes in apparently +breathless.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span> (making toward the table +where the actors are sitting, with his hand on his heart—speaking with +difficulty—supporting himself). Saved—ay, saved!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. What is it? What ails you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What has happened to the man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. That is part of the acting +now. Mark you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Ah!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc"> +Flipotte</span> (going quickly to <span class="sc">Guillaume</span>). What is +it? What ails you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Sit down. Take a draught!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span>. More!—more! Prosper, more +wine! I have been running. My tongue cleaves to my mouth. They were right at my +heels.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span> (gives a start). Ah! be careful; +they really are at our heels.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Come, tell us, what happened +then? (To the actors.) Movement!—more movement!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span>. Women here ... women—ah! +(Embraces <span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. ) That brings one back to life again! +(To <span class="sc">Albin</span>, who is highly impressed.) The Devil take me, +my boy, if I thought I would ever see you alive again. (As though he were +listening.) They come!—they come! (Goes to the door.) No, it is nothing ... They +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. How strange! There really is a +noise, as though people outside were pressing forward very quickly. Is that part +of the stage effects as well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. He goes in for such damned +subtleties every blessed time. (To <span class="sc">Jules</span>. ) 'Tis too +silly—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Come now, tell us why they are at +your heels again?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span>. Oh, nothing special. But if +they got me, it would cost me my head. I've set fire to a house.</p> +<p class="hang2">[During this scene young nobles come in and sit down at the +tables.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (softly). Go on!—go on!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span> (in the same tone). What more +do you want? Isn't it enough for you if I've set fire to a house?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. But tell me, my friend, why +you set fire to the house.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span>. Because the President of the +Supreme Court lived in it. We wanted to make a beginning with him. We wanted to +keep the good Parisian householders from taking folk into their houses so +lightly who send us poor devils to the prison.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. That's good! That's good!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span> (looks at <span class="sc"> +Grain</span> and is surprised; then goes on speaking). All the houses must be +fired. Three more fellows like me and there won't be any more judges in Paris.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. Death to the judges!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span>. Yes ... but there may be one +whom we can't annihilate.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span>. I should like to know who he +is.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span>. The judge within us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (softly). That's tasteless. Leave +off. Scaevola, roar! Now's the time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Wine here, Prosper; we want +to drink to the death of all the judges in France.</p> +<p class="hang2">[During the last words enter the <span class="sc">Marquis de +Lansac</span>, with his wife, <span class="sc">Séverine</span>, and <span class="sc"> +Rollin</span>, the poet.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Death to all who have the +power in their hands today!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. See you, Séverine, that is how +they greet us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Marquise, I warned you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Whom do I see? The Marquise! +Allow me to kiss your hand. Good evening. Marquis. Well met to you, Rollin. And +you, Marquise, you dare to venture into this place!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. I heard such a lot about it. +And besides, we are having a day of adventures already—eh, Rollin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Yes. Just think of it, +Vicomte; you would never believe where we come from—from the Bastille.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Are they still keeping up the +tumult there?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Ay, indeed! It looks as +though they meant to storm it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span> (declaiming). Like to a flood +that seethes against its banks, And rages deep that its own child, the Earth, +Resists it.—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Don't, Rollin! We left our +carriages there in the neighborhood. It is a magnificent spectacle—there is +always something so grand about crowds.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Yes, yes, if they only did +not smell so vilely.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. And my wife would not leave me +in peace—I had to bring her here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Well, what is there so very +special here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to <span class="sc">Lansac</span>). +Well, so you're here, are you, you dried-up old scoundrel? Did you bring your +wife along because she wasn't safe enough for you at home?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span> (with a forced laugh). He's +quite a character.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. But take heed that she is not +snatched away from under your nose in this very place. Aristocratic ladies like +her very often get a deuce of a fancy to try what a real rogue is like.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I suffer unspeakably, Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. My child, I prepared you for +this—it is high time that we went.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. What ails you? I think it's +charming. Nay, let us seat ourselves.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Would you allow me. Marquise, +to present to you the Chevalier de la Tremouille. He is here for the first time, +too. The Marquis de Lansac; Rollin, our celebrated poet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Delighted. (Compliments; they +sit down.) (To <span class="sc">François</span>. ) Is that one of those that are +playing, or—I can't make it out—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Don't be so stupid. That is +the lawful wife of the Marquis de Lansac ... a lady of extreme propriety.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span> (to <span class="sc">Séverine</span>). +Say that thou lovest me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Yes, yes; but ask me not +every minute.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Have we missed a scene +already?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Nothing much. An incendiary's +playing over there, 'twould appear.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Chevalier, you must be the +cousin of the little Lydia de la Tremouille who was married today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Quite so, Marquise; that was one +of the reasons why I came to Paris.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. I remember having seen you in +the church.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (embarrassed). I am highly +flattered, Marquise.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +What a dear little boy!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. My dear Séverine, you have +never yet managed to know a man without his pleasing you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Indeed I did; and what is +more, I married him straight away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I am always so afraid, +Séverine—I am sure there are moments when it's not safe for you to be with your +own husband.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (brings wine). There you are. I +wish it were poison; but for the time being, the law won't let us serve it to +you, you scum.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. The time'll soon come, +Prosper.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +What is the matter with both those pretty girls? Why don't they come nearer? Now +that we once are here, I want to join in everything. I really think that +everything is extremely moral here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Have patience, Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. I think nowadays one diverts +oneself best in the streets. Do you know what happened to us yesterday when we +went for a drive in the Promenade de Longchamps?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Please, please, my dear +Séverine, why—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. A fellow jumped onto the +footboard of our carriage and shouted, "Next year you will stand behind your +coachman and we shall be sitting in the carriages."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Hm! That is rather strong.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Odds life! I don't think one +ought to talk of such things. Paris is now somewhat feverish, but that will soon +pass off again.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Guillaume</span> (suddenly). I see +flames—flames everywhere I look—red, high flames.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to him). You're playing a madman, +not a criminal.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Does he see flames?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. But all this is still not the +real thing. Marquise.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +I cannot tell you how bewildered I feel already with everything.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span> (comes to the <span class="sc"> +Marquis</span>). I have not yet greeted you, darling, you dear old pig.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span> (embarrassed). She jests, dear +Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. It does not look that way. +Tell me, little one, how many love-affairs have you had so far?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span> (to <span class="sc">François</span>). +It is really wonderful how well my wife the Marquise knows how to adapt herself +to every situation.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Yes, it is wonderful.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Have you counted yours?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. When I was still as young as +you ... of course ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +Tell me, M. Rollin, is the Marquise joking, or is she really like—? I positively +can't make it out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Reality ... playing ... do you +know the difference so exactly. Chevalier?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. At any rate ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I don't. And what I find so +peculiar here is that all apparent distinctions, so to speak, are taken away. +Reality passes into play—play into reality. Just look now at the Marquise. How +she gossips with those creatures as though she were one of them. At the same +time she is—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Something quite different.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I thank you, Chevalier.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to <span class="sc">Grain</span>). +Well, how did it all happen?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Why, the affair with your aunt, +for which you went to prison for two years.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I told you, I strangled her.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. That is feeble. He is an +amateur. I have never seen him before.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span> (comes quickly in, dressed +like a prostitute of the lowest class). Good evening, children. Is my Balthasar +not here yet?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Georgette, sit by me. Your +Balthasar will yet be here in time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. If he is not here in ten +minutes, he won't bring off anything again—he won't come back at all then.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Watch her, Marquise. She is +the wife of that Balthasar of whom she has just been speaking, and who will soon +come in. She represents just a common street-jade, while Balthasar is her bully. +All the same, she is the truest wife to be found in the whole of Paris.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span> comes in.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. My Balthasar! (She runs +toward him and embraces him). So there you are.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. It is all in order. (Silence +around him.) It was not worth the trouble. I was almost sorry for him. You +should size up your customers better, Georgette. I am sick of killing promising +youths for the sake of a few francs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Splendid!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What—?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. He brings out the points so +well.</p> + +<p class="center">Enter the <span class="sc">Commissaire</span>, disguised; sits +down at table.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to him). You come at a good time, +M. le Commissaire. This is one of my best exponents.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. One should really try and +find another profession. On my soul, I am not a craven, but this kind of bread +is hard earned.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. I can well believe so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. What's the matter with you +today?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. I will tell you what. +Georgette—I think you're a trifle too tender with the young gentlemen.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. See what a child he is! But +be reasonable, Balthasar. I must needs be very tender so as to inspire them with +confidence.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. What she says is really deep.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. If I thought for a moment +that you felt anything when another—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. What do you say to that? +Dumb jealousy will yet bring him to his grave.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. I have already heard one +sigh, Georgette, and that was at a moment when one of them was already giving +sufficient proofs of his confidence.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. One can't leave off playing +a woman in love so suddenly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. Be careful, Georgette—the +Seine is deep. (Wildly.) Should you ever deceive me—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. Never, never.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. I positively can't make it out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Rollin, that is the right +interpretation!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. You think so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span> (to <span class="sc">Séverine</span>). +It is time we were going, Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Why? I am beginning to enjoy +it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. My Balthasar, I adore you. +(Embrace.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Bravo! bravo!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. What loony is that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. This is unquestionably too +strong; this is—</p> + +<p class="hang1">Enter <span class="sc">Maurice</span> and <span class="sc"> +Etienne</span>. They are dressed like young nobles, but one can see that they +are only disguised in dilapidated theatrical costumes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">From the Actors' Table</span>. Who are they?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. May the devil take me if it +ain't Maurice and Etienne.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Georgette</span>. Of course it is they!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. Georgette!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Heavens! what monstrously +pretty young persons.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. It is painful, Séverine, to see +you so violently excited by every pretty face.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. What did I come here for, +then?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Tell me, at any rate, that you +love me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (with a peculiar look). You +have a short memory.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Etienne</span>. Well, where do you think we +have come from?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Listen, Marquis; they're a +couple of quite witty youths.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. A wedding.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Etienne</span>. One has got to dress up a bit +in places like this. Otherwise one of those damned secret police gets on one's +track at once.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. At any rate, have you made a +good haul?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Let's have a look.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span> (drawing watches out of his +waistcoat). What'll you give me for this?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. For that there? A louis.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. Indeed?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. It is not worth more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. That is a lady's watch. Give +it to me, Maurice.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. What will you give me for't?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. Look at me—isn't that enough?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. No, give it to me; look at +me—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. My dear children, I can have +that without risking my head.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. You are a conceited ape.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. I swear that's no acting.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Of course not; there is a flash +of reality running through the whole thing. That is the chief charm.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. What wedding was it, then?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. The wedding of Mademoiselle de +la Tremouille; she was married to the Comte de Banville.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Do you hear that, François? I +assure you they are real knaves.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Calm yourself, Albin. I know +the two. I have seen them play a dozen times already. Their specialty is the +portrayal of pickpockets.</p> + +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Maurice</span> draws some purses out of his +waistcoat.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Well, you can do the handsome +tonight.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Etienne</span>. It was a very magnificent +wedding. All the nobility of France was there. Even the King was represented.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (excited). All that is true.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span> (rolls some money over the +table). That is for you, my friends, so that you can see that we all stick to +one another.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Properties, dear Albin. (He +stands up and takes a few coins.) We, too, you see, come in for a share.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You take it—you have never earned +anything so honestly in your life.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span> (holds in the air a garter set +with diamonds). And to whom shall I give this? (<span class="sc">Georgette</span>, <span class="sc"> +Michette</span>, and <span class="sc">Flipotte</span> make a rush after it.) +Patience, you sweet pusses. We will speak about that later on. I will give it to +the one who devises a new caress.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +Would you not like to let me join in the competition!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I protest you will drive me +mad, Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Séverine, had we not better be +going now? I think—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Oh, no. I am enjoying myself +excellently. (To +<span class="sc">Rollin</span>. ) Ah well, my mood is getting so—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Michette</span>. How did you get hold of the +garter?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Maurice</span>. There was such a crush in the +church—and when a lady thinks one is courting her— (All laugh.)</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Grain</span> has stolen <span class="sc"> +François's</span> purse.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span> (showing the money to <span class="sc"> +Albin</span>). Mere counters. Are you satisfied now? [<span class="sc">Grain</span> +wants to get away.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (going after him softly). Give me +the purse at once which you took from this gentleman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. I—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Straightaway ... or it will be +the worse for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grain</span>. You need not be churlish. (Gives +it to him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. And stay here. I have no time to +search you now. Who knows what else you have pouched. Go back to your place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Flipotte</span>. I shall win the garter.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (throwing the purse to <span class="sc"> +François</span>). Here's your purse. You lost it out of your pocket.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. I thank you, Prosper. (To <span class="sc"> +Albin</span>. ) You see, we are in reality in the company of most respectable +people.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Henri</span>, who has already been present +for some time and has sat behind, suddenly stands up.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Henri—there is Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Is he the one you told me so +much about?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Assuredly. The man one really +comes here to see.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Henri</span> comes to the front of the stage, +very theatrically; is silent.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">The Actors</span>. Henri, what ails you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. Observe the look. A world of +passion. You see, he is playing the man who commits a crime of passion.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. I prize that highly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. But why does he not speak?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. He is beside himself. Just +watch. Pay attention.... He has wrought a fearful deed somewhere.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. He is somewhat theatrical. It +looks as though he were going to get ready for a monologue.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Henri, Henri, where do you come +from?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. I have murdered.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. What did I say?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Whom?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. The lover of my wife.</p> +<p class="hang2">[<span class="sc">Prosper</span> looks at him; at this moment +he obviously has the feeling that it might be true.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (looks up). Well, yes, I've done +it. What are you looking at me like that for? That's how the matter stands. Is +it, then, so wonderful after all? You all know what kind of a creature my wife +is; it was bound to end like that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. And she—where is she?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. See, the host takes it +seriously. You notice how realistic that makes the thing.</p> +<p class="right">[Noise outside—not too loud.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Jules</span>. What noise is that outside?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Do you hear, Séverine?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. It sounds as though troops were +marching by.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Oh, no; it is our dear people +of Paris. Just listen how they bawl. (Uneasiness in the cellar; it grows quiet +outside.) Go on, Henri—go on.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Yes, do tell us, Henri—where is +your wife? Where have you left her?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Oh, I have no qualms about her. +She will not die of it. Whether it is this man or that man, what do the women +care? There are still a thousand other handsome men running about Paris—whether +it is this man or that man—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Balthasar</span>. May it fare thus with all +who take our wives from us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. All who take from us what +belongs to us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span> (to <span class="sc">Host</span>). +These are seditious speeches.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. It is dreadful ... the people +mean it seriously.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scaevola</span>. Down with the usurers of +France! We would fain wager that the fellow whom he caught with his wife was +another again of those accursed hounds who rob us of our bread as well.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. I propose we go.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Henri!—Henri!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. But, Marquise—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Please, dear Marquis, ask the +man how he caught his wife—or I will ask him myself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span> (after resisting). Tell us, +Henri, how did you manage to catch the pair?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (who has been for a long while +sunk in reverie). Know you my wife, then? She is the fairest and vilest creature +under the sun. And I loved her! We have known one another for seven years—but it +is only yesterday that she became my wife. In those seven years there was not +one day, nay, not one day, in which she did not lie to me, for everything about +her is a lie—her eyes and her lips, her kisses and her smiles.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. He rants a little.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Every boy and every old man, +every one who excited her and every one who paid her—every one, I think, who +wanted her—has possessed her, and I have known it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Not every one can boast as +much.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. And all the same she loved me, +my friends. Can any one of you understand that? She always came back to me +again—from all quarters back again to me—from the handsome and from the ugly, +from the shrewd and from the foolish, from ragamuffins and from courtiers—always +came back to me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (to <span class="sc">Rollin</span>). +Now, if only you had an inkling that it is just this coming back which is really +love.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. What I suffered ... tortures, +tortures!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. It is harrowing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. And yesterday I married her. We +had a dream—nay, I had a dream. I wanted to get away with her from here. Into +solitude, into the country, into the great peace. We wished to live like other +happy married couples—we dreamt also of having a child—-</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span> (softly). Séverine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Very good!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. François, that man is speaking +the truth.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Quite so; the love-story is +true, but the real pith is the murder-story.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. I was just one day too late.... +There was just one man whom she had forgotten, otherwise—I believe—she wouldn't +have wanted any one else.... But I caught them together ... it is all over with +him.</p> + +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">Actors</span>. Who?—who? How did it happen? +Where does he lie? Are you pursued? How did it happen? Where is she?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span> (with growing excitement). I +escorted her ... to the theatre ... today was to be the last time.... I kissed +her ... at the door ... and she went to her dressing-room ... and I went off +like a man who has nothing to fear. But when I had gone a hundred yards, I began +... to have ... within me—do you understand? ... a terrible unrest ... and it +was as though something forced me to turn round ... and I turned round and went +back. But once there I felt ashamed and went away again ... and again I walked a +hundred yards away from the theatre ... and then something gripped me ... again +I went back. Her scene was at an end—she hasn't got much to do, she just stands +awhile on the stage half naked—and then she has finished. I stood in front of +her dressing-room, put my ear to the door, and heard whispers. I could not make +out a word ... the whispering ceased ... I pushed open the door ... (he roars +like a lion) it was the Duc de Cadignan, and I murdered him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (who now at last takes it for the +truth). Madman!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Henri</span> looks up, gazes fixedly at <span class="sc"> +Host</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Bravo!—bravo!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. What are you doing. Marquise? +The moment you call out "bravo!" you make it all acting again—and the pleasant +shudder is past.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. I do not find the shudder so +pleasant. Let us applaud, my friends; that is the only way we can throw off the +spell.</p> +<p class="hang2">[A gentle bravo, growing continually louder; all applaud.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to <span class="sc">Henri</span>, +during the noise). Save yourself—flee, Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. What!—what!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Let this be enough, and see that +you get away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Hush!... Let us hear what the +host says.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (after a short reflection). I am +telling him that he ought to get away before the watch at the city gates are +informed. The handsome Duke was a favorite of the King—they will break you on +the wheel. Far better had it been had you stabbed that scum, your wife.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. What playing up to each +other!... Splendid!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Prosper, which of us is mad, you +or I! (He stands there and tries to read in <span class="sc">Prosper's</span> +eyes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. It is wonderful; we all know +that he is acting, and yet if the Duc de Cadignan were to enter now, it would be +like a ghost appearing.</p> +<p class="hang2">[Noise outside—growing stronger and stronger. People come in; +shrieks are heard. Right at their head <span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Others, +among them <span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>, force their way over the steps. Cries +of "Liberty! Liberty!" are heard.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Here we are, my boys—in here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. What is that? Is that part of +the performance?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. What means it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. What people are those?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. In here! I tell you, my friend +Prosper has still got a barrel of wine left, and we have earned it. (Noise from +the streets.) Friend! Brother! We have them!—we have them!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Shouts</span> (from outside). Liberty! +Liberty!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. What has happened?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Let us get away—let us get +away; the mob approaches.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. How do you propose to get away?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. It has fallen; the Bastille +has fallen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What say you? Speaks he the +truth?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Hear you not?</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Albin</span> wants to draw his sword.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Stop that at once, or we are +all lost.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (reeling in down the stairs). +And if you hasten, you will still be in time to see quite a merry sight ... the +head of our dear Delaunay stuck on a very high pole.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. Is the fellow mad?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Shouts</span>. Liberty! Liberty!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. We have cut off a dozen heads; +the Bastille belongs to us; the prisoners are free! Paris belongs to the people!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Hear you?—hear you? Paris belongs +to us!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. See you how he gains courage +now. Yes, shout away, Prosper; naught more can happen to you now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span> (to the nobles). What say you to +it, you rabble? The joke is at an end.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Said I not so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. The people of Paris have +conquered.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Silence! (They laugh.) +Silence! I forbid the continuance of the performance!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Who is that nincompoop?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Prosper, I regard you as +responsible for all these seditious speeches.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Is the fellow mad?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. The joke is at an end. Don't you +understand? Henri, do tell them—now you can tell them. We will protect you—the +people of Paris will protect you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Yea, the people of Paris.</p> + +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Henri</span> stands there with a fixed +stare.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Henri has really murdered the Duc +de Cadignan.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>, <span class="sc">François</span>, +and <span class="sc">Marquis</span>. What says he?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> and others. What means all this, +Henri?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Henri, pray speak.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. He found him with his wife and he +has killed him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. 'Tis not true!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. You need fear naught more now; +now you can shout it to all the world. I could have told you an hour past that +sue was the Duke's mistress. By God, I was nigh telling you—is't not true, you, +Shrieking Pumice-stone?—did we not know it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Who has seen her? Where has she +been seen?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. What matters that to you now? The +man's mad ... you have killed him; of a truth you cannot do more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. In heaven's name, is't really +true or not?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Ay, it is true.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Henri, from henceforth you +must be my friend. Vive la Liberté!—Vive la Liberté!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Henri, speak, man!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. She was his mistress? She was +the mistress of the Duke? I knew it not ... he lives ... he lives ... +(Tremendous sensation.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (to the others). Well, where's +the truth now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. My God!</p> +<p class="hang2">[The <span class="sc">Duke</span> forces his way through the +crowd on the steps.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (who sees him first). The +Duke!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Some Voices</span>. The Duke.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Well, well, what is it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Host</span>. Is it a ghost?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. Not that I know of. Let me +through!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. What won't we wager that it is +all arranged! The fellows yonder belong to Prosper's troupe. Bravo, Prosper! +This is a real success.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Duke</span>. What is it? Is the playing still +going on here, while outside ... but don't you know what manner of things are +taking place outside? I have seen Delaunay's head carried past on a pole. Nay, +why do you look at me like that? (Steps down.) Henri—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. Guard yourself from Henri.</p> + +<p class="hang2">[Henri rushes like a madman on the Duke and plunges a dagger +into his neck.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span> (stands up). This goes too +far!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">All</span>. He bleeds.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. A murder has been done here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. The Duke is dying.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. I am distracted, dear +Séverine, to think that today of all days I should have brought you to this +place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Why not? (In a strained +tone.) It is a wonderful success. One does not see a real duke really murdered +every day.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Rollin</span>. I cannot grasp it yet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. Silence! Let no one leave +the place!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. What does he want?</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_330" href="#pixRef_330"><img src="images/pg330.png" alt="Georg Brandes"></a></p> +<p class="center">GEORG BRANDES</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Commissaire</span>. I arrest this man in the +name of the law.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (laughs). It is we who make the +laws, you blockheads! Out with the rabble! He who kills a duke is a friend of +the people. Vive la Liberté!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span> (draws his sword). Make way! +Follow me, my friends! [<span class="sc">Léocadie</span> +rushes in over the steps.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Voices</span>. His wife!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Let me in here. I want my +husband! (She comes to the front, sees, and shrieks out.) Who has done this? +Henri! [<span class="sc">Henri</span> looks at her.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. Why have you done this?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Henri</span>. Why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Léocadie</span>. I know why. Because of me. +Nay, nay, say not 'twas because of me. Never in all my life have I been worth +that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span> (begins a speech). Citizens of +Paris, we will celebrate our victory. Chance has led us on our way through the +streets of Paris to this amiable host. It could not have fitted in more +prettily. Nowhere can the cry "Vive la Liberté!" ring sweeter than over the +corpse of a duke.</p> + +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">Voices</span>. Vive la Liberté! Vive la +Liberté!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">François</span>. I think we might go. The +people have gone mad. Let us go.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Albin</span>. Shall we leave the corpse here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span>. Vive la Liberté! Vive la +Liberté!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Marquis</span>. <br> Are you mad?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Citizens</span> <i>and</i> <span class="sc">Actors</span>. +Vive la Liberté! Vive la Liberté!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Séverine</span> (leading the nobles to the +exit). Rollin, wait you tonight outside my window. I will throw the key down +like t'other night. We will pass a pretty hour—I feel quite pleasurably excited.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Shouts</span>. Vive la Liberté! Vive Henri! +Vive Henri!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Lebrêt</span>. Look at the fellows—they are +running away from us.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Grasset</span>. Let them for tonight—let them; +they will not escape us.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="div2_literature" href="#div2Ref_literature">LITERATURE</a></h2> +<h2>A COMEDY IN ONE ACT</h2> + +<hr class="W20"> + +<h2>CHARACTERS</h2> + +<h3><span class="sc"><span class="sc">Margaret</span></span></h3> +<h3><span class="sc">Clement</span></h3> +<h3>GILBERT</h3> + + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>LITERATURE (1902)</h2> +<h3>BY ARTHUR SCHNITZLER</h3> +<h3>TRANSLATED BY A. I. DU P. COLEMAN, A.M.</h3> +<h3>Professor of English Literature, College of the City of New York</h3> +<br> + +<p class="hang1">Scene, a decently but not richly furnished room, belonging to +<span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Table, small writing-desk, chairs, a cupboard, +two windows up stage, doors right and left. At rise of curtain, <span class="sc"> +Clement</span> is discovered leaning against mantelpiece, in a very elegant dark +gray morning suit, smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. <span class="sc"> +Margaret</span> stands by window, then walks up and down, finally comes behind <span class="sc"> +Clement</span> and runs her hands through his hair. She seems rather restless. <span class="sc"> +Clement</span> goes on reading, then seizes her hand and kisses it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Horner is sure of his game—or +rather my game. Waterloo five to one, Barometer twenty to one, Busserl seven to +one, Attila sixteen to one.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Sixteen to one!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Lord Byron six to four—that's +us, darling!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Besides, it's still six weeks +to the race.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Apparently he thinks it's a +dead certainty.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. The way she knows all the +terms ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I've known these terms longer +than I have you. And is it quite settled that you'll ride Lord Byron yourself?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. How can you ask? The Ladies' +Plate! Whom else should I put up? If Horner didn't know I was going to ride him +myself, he wouldn't be standing at six to four, you may be sure of that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I believe you. You're so +handsome on horseback—simply fit to take one's breath away! I shall never forget +how you looked at Munich, the day I got to know you ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Don't remind me of it! I had +awful luck that day. Windisch would never have won the race if he hadn't got ten +lengths start. But this time—ah ...! And the next day we go away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. In the evening.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Yes ... But why?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Because in the morning we +shall be getting married, I suppose.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Yes, yes, darling.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I'm so happy! (Embraces him.) +And where shall we go?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I thought we'd agreed about +that—to my place in the country.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes, later. But can't we have +a little while on the Riviera first?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That'll depend on the Ladies' +Plate; if I win it ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Dead certainty!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. And anyhow, in April the +Riviera really isn't the thing any more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, that's it, is it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Of course that's it, child. +You've retained from your old life certain conceptions of what's the thing which +are—you'll forgive me for saying it—just a little like those of the comic +papers.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Really, Clement ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh well, we'll see. (Goes on +reading.) Badegast fifteen to one ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Badegast? He won't be in it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. How do you know that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Szigrati himself told me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. How was that? Where?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Why, yesterday up at the +Freudenau, while you were talking to Milner.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. To my way of thinking, +Szigrati isn't the right sort of company for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Jealous?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Nonsense! Anyhow, after this I +shall introduce you everywhere as my fiancée. (She kisses him.) Well, what did +Szigrati tell you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. That he wasn't going to enter +Badegast for the Ladies' Plate.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, you mustn't believe +everything Szigrati tells you. He's spreading the report that Badegast won't run +just in order that the odds may be longer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Why, that's just like +speculation.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Well, don't you suppose we've +got any speculators among us? For many men the whole thing is a business. Do you +suppose a man like Szigrati has the slightest feeling for sport? He might just +as well be on the stock exchange. But for the matter of that, as far as Badegast +is concerned, people might well lay a hundred to one against him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh? I thought he looked +splendid this morning.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, she's seen Badegast too!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. To be sure—didn't Butters +give him a gallop this morning after Busserl?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. But Butters doesn't ride for +Szigrati. That must have been a stable-boy. Well, anyhow, Badegast may look as +splendid as you like, it makes no difference—he's no good. Ah, Margaret, with +your brains you'll soon learn to distinguish real greatness from false. It's +really incredible, the quickness with which you've already—what shall I +say?—initiated yourself into all these things—it surpasses my boldest +expectations.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (annoyed). Why does it surpass +your expectations? You know very well that all these things are not so new to +me. Some very good people used to visit my parents' house—Count Libowski and +various others; and also at my husband's ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, of course—I know ... At +bottom I've really got nothing against the cotton business.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What has it to do with my +personal views that my husband had a cotton factory? I always continued my +education in my own fashion. But let's not talk any further about those +days—they're far enough away, thank God!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. But there are others that are +nearer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. To be sure. But what does +that mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, I only mean that in your +Munich surroundings you can't have heard much of sporting matters, as far as I +am able to judge.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I wish you'd stop reproaching +me with the surroundings in which you learned to know me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Reproaching you? There can't +be any question of that. But it has always been and still is incomprehensible to +me how you got in with those people.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You talk exactly as if they +had been a gang of criminals!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Child, I give you my word, +there were some of them that looked exactly like highway-robbers. What I can't +understand is how you, with your well-developed sense of ... Well, I won't say +anything more than your taste for ... cleanliness and nice perfumes ... could +bear living among those people, sitting down at the table with them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (smiling). Didn't you do it +too?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I sat down near them—not with +them. And you know it was for your sake, exclusively for your sake, that I did +it. I won't deny that some of them improved on closer acquaintance; there were +some really interesting people among them. And you mustn't get the idea, +darling, that when I'm among ill-dressed people I have a feeling of conscious +superiority. It's not that—but there's something in their whole bearing, in +their very nature, that makes one nervous.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, I think that's rather a +sweeping statement.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Now don't get offended with +me, darling. I've just said there were some very interesting people among them. +But how a <i>lady</i> can feel at home with them for any length of time, I shall +never be able to understand.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You forget one thing, my dear +Clement—that in a certain sense I belong to their circle, or did belong to it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. You—I beg your pardon!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. They were artists.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Ah good—we're back on that +subject again!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes—and that's the thing that +always hurts me, that you can't feel with me there.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. "Can't feel with you" ... I +like that! I can feel with you all right—but you know what it was I always +disliked about your scribbling, and you know that it's a very personal thing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, there are women who in +my situation at that time would have done worse things than write poetry.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. But such poetry! (He picks up +a little book on the mantelpiece.) That's the whole question. I can assure you, +every time I see it lying there, every-time I even think of it, I'm ashamed to +think it's yours.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You simply don't understand +it. No, you mustn't be vexed with me; if you had just that one thing more, you'd +be perfect—and that probably is not to be. But what is it that disturbs you in +the verses? You surely know that I haven't experienced anything like that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I hope not!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You know it's all +imagination.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. But then I can't help asking +myself ... how comes a lady to have such an imagination? (Reads.)</p> + +<p class="hang4" style="margin-left:8em"> "So, drunk with bliss, I +hang upon thy neck And suck thy lips' drained sweetness ..."</p> + +<p class="hang4">(Shakes his head.) How can a lady write such stuff, or allow it +to be printed? Everybody who reads it must call up a picture of the authoress +and the neck and ... the intoxication.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. When I give you my word that +such a neck has never existed ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. No, I can't believe that it +has. Lucky for me that I can't—and ... for you too, Margaret. But how did you +ever come by such fancies? All these glowing emotions can't possibly be referred +to your first husband—you told me yourself he never understood you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Of course he didn't—that's +why I got a divorce from him. You know all about that. I simply couldn't exist +by the side of a man who had no ideas beyond eating and drinking and cotton.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Yes, I know. But all that's +three years ago—and you wrote the verses later.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes ... But just think of the +position in which I found myself ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. What sort of a position? You +hadn't any privations to put up with, had you? From that point of view your +husband, to give him his due, behaved really very well. You weren't forced to +earn your own living. And even if they gave you a hundred florins for a +poem—they certainly wouldn't give more—you weren't obliged to write a book like +that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Clement, dear, I didn't mean +the word "position" in a material sense; I meant the position in which my soul +was. Haven't you any conception ...? When you first met me, it was much +better—to a certain extent I had found myself; but at first ...! I was so +helpless and distracted. I did everything I could—I painted, I even gave English +lessons in the boardinghouse where I was living. Just think what it was like, to +be there as a divorced woman at twenty-two, to have no one ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Why didn't you stay quietly in +Vienna?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Because I was not on good +terms with my family. No one has really understood me. Oh, these people ...! Do +you suppose any of my relations could conceive that one should want anything +else from life except a husband and pretty clothes and a position in society! +Oh, good heavens ...! If I had had a child, things might have been very +different—and again they might not. I am a very complex creature. But after all, +what have you to complain of! Wasn't my going to Munich the best thing I could +have done? How else should I ever have known you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That's all right—but you +didn't go there with that purpose in view.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I went because I wanted to be +free—inwardly free. I wanted to see if I could make the thing go on my own +resources. And you must admit that it looked as if I should be able to. I was on +the road to becoming famous. (<span class="sc">Clement</span> looks at her +dubiously.) But I cared more for you than even for fame.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span> (good-naturedly). And I'm a bit +more dependable.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I wasn't thinking about that. +I loved you from the very first moment—that was the thing that counted. I had +always dreamed of some one just like you; I had always known that no other sort +of man could make me happy. Blood isn't a mere empty word; it's the only thing +that counts. Do you know, that's why I always have a kind of idea ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. At least now and then the +thought comes to me that there may be some noble blood in my veins too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. How so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, it would be a +possibility.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I don't understand.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I told you that there used to +be aristocratic visitors at my parents' house ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Well, and if there were ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Who knows ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, I say, Margaret! How can +you talk of such things!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, when you're about one can +never say what one thinks! That's the only thing the matter with you—if it +weren't for that you'd be perfect. (She nestles up to him.) I do love you so +tremendously. The very first evening, when you came into the café with +Wangenheim, I knew it at once—knew that you were the man for me. You know you +strode in among those people like a being from another world.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I hope so. And you, thank +goodness, didn't look as if you belonged to that one. No ... when I remember +that crowd—the Russian girl, for example, who looked like a student with her +close-cropped hair, only that she didn't wear the cap ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. She's a very talented artist, +the Baranzewich.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I know—you showed her to me in +the Pinakothek, standing on a ladder, copying pictures. And then the fellow with +the Polish name ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (begins to recall the name). +Zrkd ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, don't bother—you won't +need to pronounce it any more. Once he delivered a lecture in the café, when I +was there, without seeming in the least embarrassed.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. He's a great genius—you may +take my word for it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, of course—they're all +great geniuses at the café. And then there was that insufferable cub ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Who?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, you know the fellow I +mean—the one that was always making tactless remarks about the aristocracy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Gilbert—you must mean +Gilbert.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That's the one. Of course I +don't undertake to defend everybody in my station of life; there are clowns and +boobies in every rank, even among poets, I've been told. But it's unmannerly of +the fellow, one of us being there ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, that was his way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I had to take myself sharply +in hand, or I should have said something rude. </p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_340" href="#pixRef_340"><img src="images/pg340.png" alt="Gerhart Hauptmann"></a></p> +<p class="center">GERHART HAUPTMANN</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Permission Albert Langen, Munich</i><br> +FROM OLAF GULBRANSSON'S "FAMOUS CONTEMPORARIES"</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. He was an interesting man for +all that ... yes. And besides—he was fearfully jealous of you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. So I thought I noticed. +(Pause.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, they were all jealous of +you. Naturally ... you were so different. And then they all paid court to me, +just because they were all quite indifferent to me. You must have noticed that, +too, didn't you? What are you laughing at?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. It's comical ... If any one +had prophesied to me that I should marry one of the crowd at the Café +Maximilian! The ones I liked best were the two young painters—they were really +just as if they'd stepped out of a farce at the theatre. You know, those two +that looked so much alike, and shared everything together—I fancy even the +Russian girl on the step-ladder.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I never troubled my head +about such things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Those two must have been Jews, +weren't they?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What makes you think so?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh ... because they were +always cutting jokes—and then their pronunciation ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I think you might dispense +with anti-Semitic remarks.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Come, child, don't be so +sensitive. I know you're half-Jewish. And really, you know, I've nothing against +the Jews. I even had an instructor once, who put me through my Greek for my +final exam. He was a Jew, if you like—and a splendid fellow. One meets all kinds +of people ... And I'm not sorry to have had a chance to see your Munich +circle—it's all a bit of experience.—But, you admit, I must have appeared to you +as a kind of life-saver.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes, indeed you did. Oh, +Clement, Clement ...! (She embraces him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. What are you laughing at?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, a thought struck me ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Well ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. "So, drunk with bliss, I hang +upon thy neck ..."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span> (annoyed). I don't know why you +always have to spoil a fellow's illusions!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Tell me honestly, +Clement—wouldn't you be proud if your girl—if your wife—were a great, famous +authoress?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I've told you already what I +think. You may call me narrow if you like, but I assure you that if you began +writing poems again, or, even more, having them printed, in which you gushed +about me or told the world all about our happiness, there'd be an end of the +marriage—I should be up and off.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. And you say that—you, a man +who has had a dozen notorious affairs!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Notorious or not, my dear, <i> +I</i> never told anybody about them; I never rushed into print when a girl hung, +drunk with bliss, about my neck, so that anybody could buy it for a gulden and a +half. That's the thing, you see. I know that there are people who get their +living that way—but I don't consider it the thing to do. I tell you it seems +worse to me than for a girl to show herself off in tights as a Greek statue at +the Ronacher. At least she keeps her mouth shut—but the things that one of your +poets blabs out, well, they're past a joke!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (uneasily). Dearest, you +forget that a poet doesn't always tell the truth. We tell things which we +haven't experienced at all, but what we've dreamed, invented.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. My dear Margaret, I wish you +wouldn't always keep saying "we." Thank heaven, you're out of that sort of thing +now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Who knows?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. What do you mean by that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (tenderly). Clem, I really +must tell you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Why, what's up now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, I'm not out of it—I +haven't given up writing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. You mean by that ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Just what I say—that I'm +still writing, or at least that I have written something. Yes, this impulse is +stronger than other people can conceive. I believe I should have gone to pieces +if I hadn't written.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Well, what have you been +writing this time?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. A novel. I had too much in my +breast that wanted to be said—I should have choked if I hadn't got it out. I +haven't said anything about it before—but of course I had to tell you sooner or +later. Künigel is delighted with it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Who is Künigel?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. My publisher.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Then somebody's read the thing +already?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes—and many more will read +it. Clement, you'll be proud—believe me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. You're mistaken, my dear +child. I think you have ... Well, what sort of things have you put into it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. That's not so easy to explain +in one word. The book contains, so to say, the best of what is to be said about +things.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Brava!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. And so I am able to promise +you that from this time on I shan't touch a pen. There's no more need.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Margaret, do you love me or +not?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. How can you ask? I love you, +and you alone. Much as I have seen, much as I have observed, I have felt +nothing—I waited for you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Then bring it here, your +novel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Bring it here? How do you +mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That you felt you had to write +it—may be; but at least no one shall read it. Bring it here—we'll throw it in +the fire.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Clement ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I ask that much of you—I have +a right to ask it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, it isn't possible! It's +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Not possible! When I wish +it—when I explain that I make everything else dependent on it ... you understand +me ... it may perhaps turn out to be possible.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. But, Clement, it's already +printed.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. What—printed?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes ... in a few days it'll +be for sale everywhere.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Margaret ...! And all this +without a word to me ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I couldn't help it, Clement. +When you see it, you'll forgive me—more than that, you'll be proud of me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. My dear girl, this is past a +joke.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Clement ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Good-by, Margaret.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Clement ...! What does this +mean? You are going?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. As you see.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. When will you be back?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That I can't at the present +moment say. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Clement ...! (Tries to +restrain him.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. If you please ... [Exit.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (alone). Clement ...! What +does this mean! He's leaving me? Oh, what shall I do?—Clement!—Can he mean that +all is over ...? No—it's impossible! Clement! I must follow him ... (Looks about +for her hat. The bell rings.) Ah ...he's coming back! He was only trying to +frighten me ... Oh, my Clement! (Goes toward door. Enter <span class="sc"> +Gilbert</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (to maid, who has opened door +for him). I told you I was sure she was at home. Good morning, Margaret.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (taken aback). You ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Yes, I—Amandus Gilbert.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I ... I'm so surprised ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. That is evident. But there's +no reason why you should be. I am only passing through—I'm on my way to Italy. +And really I've come to see you just for the purpose of bringing you a copy of +my latest work in remembrance of our old friendship. (Hands her the book. As she +does not take it at once, he lays it on the table.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You're very kind ... thank +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, not at all. You have a +certain right to this book. So this is where you live ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes. But ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, it's only temporary, I +know. For furnished rooms they aren't bad. To be sure, these family portraits on +the walls would drive me to distraction.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. My landlady is the widow of a +general.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, you needn't apologize.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Apologize ...? I wasn't +thinking of it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. It's very queer, when one +comes to think ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. To think of what?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Why shouldn't I say it? Of the +little room in the Steinsdorfer Strasse, with the balcony looking out on the +Isar. Do you remember it, Margaret?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Do you think you'd better +call me Margaret ... now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. As you please ... (Pause. +Suddenly.) You know really you behaved very badly ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Or do you prefer that I should +speak in paraphrases? Unfortunately I can't find any other expression for your +conduct. And it was all so unnecessary—it would have been just as well to be +honest with me. There was nothing to be gained by stealing away from Munich in +the dead of night.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It wasn't the dead of night—I +left Munich by the express at 8.30 A. M., in bright sunshine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Well, anyhow, you might just +as well have said good-by, mightn't you? (Sits.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. The Baron may come in at any +moment.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Well, what if he does? You +surely haven't told him that once upon a time you lay in my arms and adored me. +I am just an old acquaintance from Munich—and as such I have surely the right to +call on you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Any other old +acquaintance—not you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Why? You persist in +misunderstanding me. I am really here only as an old acquaintance. Everything +else is over—long ago over ... Well, you'll see there. (Points to his book.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What book is that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. My latest novel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, you're writing novels?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. To be sure.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Since when have you risen to +that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, I remember that your real +field was the small sketch, the observation of trivial daily occurrences ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (excitedly). My field ...? My +field is the world! I write what I choose to write—I don't allow any bounds to +be set to my genius. I don't know what should prevent me from writing a novel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, the standard critics +used to say ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What standard critic do you +mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I remember, for example, a +feuilleton of Neumann's in the +<i>Allgemeine</i> ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (angrily). Neumann is an idiot! +I've given him a blow in the face.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You've given him ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, not literally ... +Margaret, you used to be as disgusted with him as I was—we agreed entirely in +the view that Neumann was an idiot. "How can that mere cipher dare ..."—those +were your very words, Margaret, "How can he dare to set limits to you—to +strangle your next book before its birth?" That's what you said! And now you +appeal to that charlatan!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Please don't shout so. My +landlady ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I can't bother with thinking +about generals' widows when ray nerves are on edge.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>, But what did I say? I really +can't understand your being so sensitive.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Sensitive? You call it being +sensitive? You, who used to quiver from head to foot if the merest scribbler in +the most obscure rag ventured to say a word of criticism!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I don't remember that ever +any disparaging words have been written about me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh ...? Well, you may be +right. People are usually gallant to a pretty woman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Gallant ...? So they used to +praise my poems only out of gallantry? And your own verdict ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Mine ...? I needn't take back +anything that I said—I may confine myself to remarking that your few really +beautiful poems were written in <i>our</i> time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. And so you think the credit +of them is really yours?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Would you have written them if +I had never existed? Weren't they written to <i>me</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What? Not written to me? Oh, +that's monstrous!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. No, they were not written to +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. You take my breath away! Shall +I remind you of the situations in which your finest verses had their origin?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. They were addressed to an +ideal ... (<span class="sc">Gilbert</span> points to himself.) ... whose earthly +representative you happened to be.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Ha! That's fine! Where did you +get it? Do you know what the French say in such circumstances? "That is +literature!"</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (imitating his tone). "That is <i> +not</i> literature!" That is the truth—the absolute truth. Or do you really +believe that I meant you by the slender youth—that I sang hymns of praise to +your locks? Even in those days you were ... well, not slender; and I shouldn't +call this locks. (Passes her hand over his hair. Taking the opportunity, he +seizes her hand and kisses it. In a softer voice.) What are you thinking of?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. You thought so in those +days—or at least that was your name for it. Ah, what won't poets say for the +sake of a smooth verse, a sounding rhyme? Didn't I call you once, in a sonnet, +"my wise maiden?" And all the time you were neither ... No, I mustn't be unjust +to you—you <i>were</i> wise, confoundedly wise, revoltingly wise! And it has +paid you. But one oughtn't to be surprised; you were always a snob at heart. +Well, now you've got what you wanted. You caught your prey, your blue-blooded +youth with the well-kept hands and the neglected brain, the splendid rider, +fencer, shot, tennis-player, heart-breaker—Marlitt couldn't have invented +anything more disgusting. What more do you want? Whether it will always content +you, that knew something higher once, is of course another question. I can only +say this one thing to you—in my eyes you are a renegade from love.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You thought that up in the +train.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I thought it up just now—just +a moment ago!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Write it down, then—it's +good.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What was it that attracted you +to a man of this sort? Nothing but the old instinct, the common instinct!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I don't think <i>you've</i> +got any right ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. My dear child, in the old days +I had a soul too to offer you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, at times, only this ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Don't try now to depreciate +our relation—you won't succeed. It will remain always your most splendid +experience.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Bah ... when I think that I +tolerated that rubbish for a whole year!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Tolerated? You were entranced +with it. Don't be ungrateful—I'm not. Miserably as you behaved at the last, for +me it can't poison my memories. And anyhow, that was part of the whole.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You don't mean it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Yes ... And now listen to this +one statement I owe to you: at the very time when you were beginning to turn +away from me, when you felt this drawing toward the stable—<i>la nostalgie de +l'écurie</i>—I was realizing that at heart I was done with you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. No ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. It's quite characteristic, +Margaret, that you hadn't the least perception of it. Yes, I was done with you. +I simply didn't need you any more. What you could give me, you had given me; you +had fulfilled your function. You knew in the depths of your heart, you knew +unconsciously ... that your day was over. Our relation had achieved its purpose; +I do not regret having loved you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. <i>I</i> do!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. That's splendid! In that one +small observation lies, for the connoisseur, the whole deep distinction between +the true artist and the dilettante. To you, Margaret, our relation is today +nothing more than the recollection of a few mad nights, a few deep talks of an +evening in the alleys of the English Garden; I have made of it a work of art.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. So have I.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. How so? What do you mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What you've succeeded in +doing, if you please, I've succeeded in doing too. I also have written a novel +in which our former relations play a part, in which our former love—or what we +called by that name—is preserved to eternity.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. If I were in your place, I +wouldn't say anything about eternity until the second edition was out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, anyhow, it means +something different when <i>I</i> write a novel from what it does when you write +one.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Yes ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You see, you're a free +man—you haven't got to steal the hours in which you can be an artist; and you +don't risk your whole future.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh ... do you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I have! Half an hour ago +Clement left me because I owned up to him that I had written a novel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Left you? For ever?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I don't know. It is possible. +He went away in anger. He is unaccountable—I can't tell beforehand what he will +decide about me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Ah ... so he forbids you to +write! He won't allow the girl he loves to make any use of her brains—oh, that's +splendid! That's the fine flower of the nation! Ah ... yes. And you—aren't you +ashamed to experience the same sensations in the arms of such an idiot that you +once ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I forbid you to talk like +that about him! You don't understand him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Ha ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You don't know why he objects +to my writing—it's only out of love. He feels that I live in a world which is +closed to him; he blushes to see me exposing the innermost secrets of my soul to +strangers. He wants me for himself, for himself alone. And that's why he rushed +off ... no, not rushed; Clement isn't the sort of person who rushes off ...</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_350" href="#pixRef_350"><img src="images/pg350.png" alt="Paul_Heyse"></a></p> +<p class="center">PAUL HEYSE</p> + + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. An admirable bit of +observation. But at any rate he's gone. We needn't discuss the tempo of his +departure. And he's gone because he won't allow you to yield to your desire to +create.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, if he could only +understand that! I could be the best, the truest, the noblest wife in the world, +if the right man existed!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. You admit by that expression +that he isn't the right one.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I didn't say that!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I want you to realize that he +is simply enslaving you, ruining you, seeking to crush your personality out of +sheer egoism. Oh, think of the Margaret you were in the old days! Think of the +freedom you had to develop your ego when you loved me! Think of the choice +spirits who were your associates then, of the disciples who gathered round me +and were your disciples too. Don't you sometimes long to be back again? Don't +you sometimes think of the little room with the balcony ... and the Isar flowing +beneath the window ... (He seizes her hands and draws near to her.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. O God ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. It can all be so again—it +needn't be the Isar. I'll tell you what to do, Margaret. If he comes back, tell +him that you have some important business to see to in Munich, and spend the +time with me. Oh, Margaret, you're so lovely! We'll be happy once again, +Margaret, as we used to be. You remember, don't you? (Very close to her.) "So, +drunk with bliss, I hang upon thy neck ..."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (retreats quickly from him). +Go—go! No... no ... go, I tell you! You know I don't love you any more.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, ... h'm ... Really? Well, +then I can only beg your pardon. (Pause.) Good-by, Margaret ... good-by.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Good-by.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Good-by ... (Turns back once +more.) Won't you at least, as a parting gift, let me have a copy of your novel? +I gave you mine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It isn't out yet—it won't be +till next week.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. If you don't mind telling me +... what sort of a story is it?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It is the story of my life—of +course disguised, so that no one can recognize me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh ...? How did you manage +that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It was quite simple. The +heroine, to begin with, is not a writer but a painter ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Very clever of you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Her first husband was not a +cotton-manufacturer but a great speculator—and she deceived him not with a tenor +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Aha!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What are you laughing at?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. So you deceived him with a +tenor? That's something I didn't know.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. How do you know I did?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Why, you've just informed me +yourself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I ...? How? I said the +heroine of my novel betrays her husband with a baritone.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. A basso would have been +grander—a mezzo-soprano more piquant.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Then she goes not to Munich +but to Dresden, and there has a relation with a sculptor.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Myself, I suppose ... +disguised?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Oh, very much disguised. The +sculptor is young, handsome, and a genius. In spite of all that, she leaves him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. For ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Guess!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Presumably a jockey.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Silly!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. A count, then? A prince?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. No—an archduke!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (with a bow). Ah, you've spared +no expense.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes—an archduke, who abandons +his position at court for her sake, marries her, and goes away with her to the +Canary Islands.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. The Canary Islands! That's +fine. And then ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. With their landing in ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. ... the Canaries ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. ... the novel ends.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, I see ... I'm very +curious—especially about the disguise.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Even you would not be able to +recognize me, if it were not ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Well ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. If it were not that in the +last chapter but two I've reproduced all our correspondence!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes—all the letters you wrote +me, and all those I wrote you are included.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Excuse me ... but how did you +get yours to me? I've got them all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Ah, but I kept the rough +drafts of them all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Rough drafts?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Rough drafts ...! Of those +letters to me that seemed to be dashed off in quivering haste? "Just one word +more, dearest, before I sleep—my eyes are closing already ..." and then, when +your eyes had quite closed, you wrote me off a fair copy?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Well, have you anything to +complain of?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I might have suspected it. I +suppose I ought to congratulate myself that they weren't borrowed from a Lover's +Manual. Oh, how everything crumbles around me ... the whole past is in ruins! +She kept rough drafts of her letters!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You ought to be glad. Who +knows whether my letters to you will not be the only thing people will remember +about you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. But it's an extremely awkward +situation for another reason ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What is that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (points to his book). You see, +they're all in there too.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What? Where?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. In my novel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What's in your novel?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Our letters ... yours and +mine.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. How did you get yours, then, +since I have them? Ah, you see you wrote rough drafts too!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh no—I only made copies of +them before I sent them to you. I didn't want them to be lost. There are some in +the book that you never got; they were too good for you—you'd never have +understood them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. For heaven's sake, is that +true? (Quickly turns over the leaves of <span class="sc">Gilbert's</span> book.) +Yes, it is! Oh, it's just as if we told the whole world that we had ... Oh, good +gracious ...! (Excitedly turning over the leaves.) You don't mean to tell me you +put in the one I wrote you the morning after the first night ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Of course I did—it was really +brilliant.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. But that's too dreadful! +It'll be a European scandal. And Clement ... heavens! I'm beginning to wish that +he may not come back. I'm lost—and you with me! Wherever you go, he'll know how +to find you—he'll shoot you down like a mad dog!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (puts his book in his pocket). +A comparison in very poor taste.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. How came you by that insane +idea? The letters of a woman whom you professed to love ...! It's easy to see +that you are no gentleman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, that's too amusing! Didn't +you do exactly the same thing?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I am a woman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. You remember it now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It is true—I have nothing to +boast of over you. We are worthy of each other. Yes ... Clement was right; we +are worse than the women at the Ronacher who exhibit themselves in tights. Our +most hidden bliss, our sorrows, all ... given to the world ... Bah! I loathe +myself! Yes, we two belong together—Clement would be quite right to drive me +from him. (Suddenly.) Come, Amandus!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What are you going to do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I accept your proposal.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Proposal? What proposal?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. I'll fly with you! (Looks +about for her hat and cloak.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What are you thinking of?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (very much excited, puts her +hat on with decision). It may all be as it was before—so you said just now. It +needn't be the Isar ... Well, I'm ready.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. But this is perfectly crazy! +Fly with me ...? What would be the use of that? Didn't you say yourself that he +would know how to find me wherever I went? If you were with me, he would find +you too. It would be a great deal more sensible for each of us alone ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. You wretch! Would you abandon +me now? And a few minutes ago you were on your knees to me! Have you no shame?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What is there to be ashamed +of? I am an ailing, nervous man ... I am subject to moods ... (<span class="sc">Margaret</span>, +at window, utters a loud cry.) What's the matter? What will the general's widow +think of me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. There he is! He's coming!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. In that case ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What—you're going?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I didn't come hero with the +intention of calling on the Baron.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. He'll meet you on the +stairs—that would be worse still! Stay where you are—I refuse to be the only +victim.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Don't be a fool! Why are you +trembling so? He can't have read both novels. Control yourself—take off your +hat. Put your cloak away. (Helps her to take her things off.) If he finds you in +this state, he'll be bound to suspect ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. It's all one to me—as well +now as later. I can't endure to wait for the horror—I'll tell him everything at +once.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Everything?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes, as long as you're here. +If I come out honestly and confess everything, he may forgive me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. And what about me? I have +better things to do in the world than to allow myself to be shot down like a mad +dog by a jealous baron! (Bell rings.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. There he is—there he is!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. You won't say anything!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Yes, I mean to speak out.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, you will, will you? Have a +care, then! I'll sell my skin dearly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. What will you do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I'll hurl such truths into his +very face as no baron ever heard before. (Enter CLEMENT; rather surprised at +finding him, very cool and polite.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh ... Herr Gilbert, if I'm +not mistaken?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Yes, Baron. Happening to pass +this way on a journey to the south, I could not refrain from coming to pay my +respects ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Ah, I see ... (Pause.) I'm +afraid I have interrupted a conversation—I should be sorry to do that. Please +don't let me be in the way.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (to <span class="sc">Margaret</span>). +Ah ... what <i>were</i> we talking about?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Perhaps I may be able to +assist your memory. In Munich you always used to be talking about your books ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Ah ... precisely. As a matter +of fact, I <i>was</i> speaking of my new novel ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh ... then please go on. It's +quite possible to discuss literature with me—isn't it, Margaret? What is your +novel? Naturalist! Symbolist? A chapter of experience?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Oh, in a certain sense we all +write but of things we have lived.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. That's very interesting.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Even when one writes a Nero, +it's absolutely indispensable that at least in his heart he shall have set fire +to Rome ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Of course.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Where else is one to get +inspiration except from oneself? Where is one to find models except in the life +around one? (<span class="sc">Margaret</span> is growing more and more uneasy.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. The trouble is that the +model's consent is so seldom asked. I'm bound to say, if I were a woman, I +shouldn't thank a man for telling the world ... (Sharply.) In decent society we +call that ... compromising a woman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I don't know whether I may +include myself in "decent society"—but I call that doing honor to a woman.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. The essential thing is to hit +the mark. What, in the higher sense, does it matter whether a woman has been +happy in one man's arms or another's?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Herr Gilbert, I will call your +attention to the fact that you are speaking in the presence of a lady!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. I am speaking in the presence +of an old comrade who may be supposed to share my views on these matters.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (suddenly). Clement ...! +(Throws herself at his feet.) Clement ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span> (taken aback). Really ... +really, Margaret!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. Forgive me, Clement!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. But—Margaret ...! (To <span class="sc"> +Gilbert</span>. ) It is extremely unpleasant for me, Herr Gilbert ... Get up, +Margaret—get up! It's all right. (<span class="sc">Margaret</span> looks up at +him inquiringly.) Yes—get up! (She rises.) It's all right—it's all settled. You +may believe me when I tell you. All you've got to do is to telephone a single +word to Künigel. I've arranged everything with him. We'll call it in—you agree +to that?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. What are you going to call in, +may I ask? Her novel?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Oh, you know about it? It +would seem, Herr Gilbert, that the comradeship you speak of has been brought +pretty well up to date.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Yes ... There is really +nothing for me to do but to ask your pardon. I am really in a very embarrassing +position ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. I regret very much, Herr +Gilbert, that you have been forced to be a spectator of a scene which I may +almost describe as domestic ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. Ah ... well, I do not wish to +intrude any further—I will wish you good day. May I, as a tangible token that +all misunderstanding between us has been cleared up, as a feeble evidence of my +good wishes, present you, Baron, with a copy of my latest novel?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. You are very kind, Herr +Gilbert. I must own, to be sure, that German novels are not my pet weakness. +Well, this is probably the last I shall read—or the next to the last ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>, <span class="sc">Gilbert</span>. +The next to the last ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. And the last to be ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. Yours, my dear. (Takes a book +from his pocket.) You see, I begged Künigel for a single copy, in order to +present it to you—or rather to both of us. (<span class="sc">Margaret</span> and <span class="sc"> +Gilbert</span> exchange distracted glances.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. How good you are! (Takes the +book from him.) Yes ... that's it!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span>. We'll read it together.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span>. No, Clement ... no ... I +can't let you be so good! There ...! (Throws the book into the fire.) I don't +want to hear any more of all that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (delighted). Oh, but ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Clement</span> (goes toward the chimney). +Margaret ...! What are you doing?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Margaret</span> (stands in front of fire, +throws her arms round CLEMENT). +<i>Now</i> will you believe that I love you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gilbert</span> (much relieved). I think I am +rather in the way ... Good-by ... good day, Baron ... (Aside.) To think that I +should have to miss a climax like that ...! [Exit.]</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_wedekind" href="#div1Ref_wedekind">FRANK WEDEKIND</a></h1> +<hr class="W20"> +<h2><a name="div2_singer" href="#div2Ref_singer">THE COURT SINGER</a></h2> +<h3><span class="sc">A Play in One Act</span></h3> +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h3> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span>, <i>Imperial and Royal Court +Singer</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mrs. Helen Marowa</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Professor Dühring</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Miss Isabel Coeurne</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Müller</span>, <i>hotel proprietor</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>A valet</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>An elevator boy</i></p> +<p class="continue"><i>A piano teacher</i></p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_360" href="#pixRef_360"><img src="images/pg360.png" alt="Frank_Wedekind"></a></p> +<p class="center">FRANK WEDEKIND</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE COURT SINGER (1900)</h2> + +<h3>TRANSLATED BY ALBERT WILHELM BOESCHE, PH.D.<br> +Assistant Professor of German, Cornell University</h3> + +<h2><span class="sc">SCENERY</span></h2> + + +<p class="hang1">Pretentiously furnished room in a hotel. Entrance from the +corridor in the centre; also side doors. In front to the right a window with +heavy closed curtains. To the left a grand piano. Behind the piano a Japanese +screen covering the fireplace. Big open trunks are standing around. Enormous +laurel wreaths on several upholstered armchairs. A mass of bouquets are +distributed about the room, some of them being piled up on the piano.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + +<p class="center">Valet de chambre. Immediately afterward an elevator boy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (enters with an armful of clothes +from the adjoining room, puts them into one of the big trunks. Knocks on the +door; he straightens up). Well?—Come in!</p> + +<p class="center">[Enter an elevator boy.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Boy</span>. There's a woman downstairs wants +to know if Mr. Gerardo is in.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. No, he isn't in. (Exit elevator +boy. Valet goes into the adjoining room, returns with another armful of clothes. +Knock on the door. He lays the clothes aside and walks to the door.) Well, who's +this now? (Opens the door, receives three or four large bouquets, comes forward +with them and lays them carefully on the piano, then resumes packing. Another +knock, he goes to the door, opens it, receives a batch of letters in all +varieties of colors, comes forward and examines the addresses.) "Mr. +Gerardo."—"Courtsinger Gerardo."—"Monsieur Gerardo."—"Gerardo Esq."—"To the Most +Honorable Courtsinger Gerardo"—that's from the chambermaid, sure!—"Mr. Gerardo, +Imperial and royal Courtsinger." (Puts the letters on a tray, then continues +packing.)</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span>, valet, later the elevator +Boy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> What, aren't you through with +packing yet?—How long does it take you to pack?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. I'll be through in a minute, +Sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Be quick about it. I have some +work left to do before I go. Come, let me have a look at things. (He reaches +into one of the trunks.) Great Heavens, man! Don't you know how to fold a pair +of trousers? (Takes out the garment in question.) Do you call that packing? Well +I <i>do</i> believe, I might teach you a thing or two, though, surely, you ought +to be better at this than I! Look here, that's the way to take hold of a pair of +trousers. Then hook them here. Next, turn to these two buttons. Watch closely +now, it all depends on these two buttons; and then—pull—the trousers straight. +There you are! Now finish up by folding them once—like this. That's the way. +They won't lose their shape now in a hundred years!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (quite reverent, with eyes cast +down). Perhaps Mr. Gerardo used to be a tailor once.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> What? A tailor, I? Not quite. +Simpleton! (Handing the trousers to him.) There, put them back, but be quick +about it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (bending down over the trunk). +There's another batch of letters for you, Sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (walking over to the left). +Yes, I've seen them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. And flowers!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Yes, yes. (Takes the letters +from the tray and throws himself into an armchair in front of the piano.) Now, +for pity's sake, hurry up and get through. Valet disappears in adjoining room. +Gerardo opens the letters, glances through them with a radiant smile, crumples +them up and throws them under his chair. From one of them he reads as follows:) +"... To belong to you who to me are a god! To make me infinitely happy for the +rest of my life, how little that would cost you! Consider, please, ..." (To +himself.) Great Heavens! Here I am to sing Tristan in Brussels tomorrow night +and don't remember a single note!—Not a single note! (Looking at his watch.) +Half-past three.—Forty-five minutes left. (A knock.) Come i—n!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Boy</span> (lugging in a basket of champagne). +I was told to put this in Mr....</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> <i>Who</i> told you?—Who is +downstairs?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Boy</span>. I was told to put this in Mr. +Gerardo's room.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (rising). What is it? (Relieves +him of the basket.) Thank you. (Exit elevator boy. <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +lugs basket forward.) For mercy's sake! Now what am I to do with this! (Reads +the name on the giver's card and calls out.) George!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (enters from the adjoining room +with another armful of clothes). It's the last lot. Sir. (Distributes them among +the various trunks which he then closes.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Very well.—I am at home to no +one!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. I know. Sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> To no one, I say!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. You may depend on me, Sir. +(Handing him the trunk keys.) Here are the keys, Mr. Gerardo.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (putting the keys in his +pocket). To <i>no one!</i></p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. The trunks will be taken down at +once. (Starts to leave the room.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Wait a moment ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (returning). Yes, Sir?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (gives him a tip). What I said +was: to <i>no one!</i></p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. Thank you very much indeed. Sir. +[Exit.]</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (alone, looking at his watch). +Half an hour left. (Picks out the piano arrangement of "Tristan and Isolde" from +under the flowers on the piano and, walking up and down, sings mezza voce:)</p> +<p style="margin-left:4em">"Isolde! Beloved! Art thou mine?<br> + Once more my own? May I embrace thee?"</p> + +<p style="margin-left:2em">(Clears his throat, strikes two thirds on the piano +and begins anew:)</p> +<p style="margin-left:4em">"Isolde! Beloved! Art thou mine?<br> + Once more my own? ..."</p> +<p style="margin-left:2em">(Clears his throat.) The air is simply infernal in +here! (Sings:)</p> +<p style="margin-left:4em">"Isolde! Beloved! ..."</p> +<p style="margin-left:2em">I feel as if there were a leaden weight on me! I must +have a breath of fresh air, quick! (Goes to the window and tries to find the +cord by which to draw the curtain aside.) Where can that thing be?—On the other +side. There! (Draws the curtain aside quickly and seeing <span class="sc">Miss +Coeurne</span> before him, throws back his head in a sort of mild despair.) +Goodness gracious!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE IV</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. <span class="sc">Gerardo</span></p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (sixteen years old, short +skirts, loose-hanging light hair. Has a bouquet of red roses in her hand, speaks +with an English accent, looks at <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> with a full and +frank expression). Please, do not send me away.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> What else am I to do with you? +Heaven knows <i>I</i> did not ask you to come here. It would be wrong of you to +take it amiss but, you see, I have to sing tomorrow night. I must tell you +frankly. I thought I should have this half hour to myself. Only just now I've +given special and strictest orders not to admit anybody, no matter who it might +be.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (stepping forward). Do not +send me away. I heard you as Tannhäuser last night and came here merely to offer +you these roses.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Yes?—Well?—And—?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. And myself!—I hope I am +saying it right.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (grasps the back of a chair; +after a short struggle with himself he shakes his head). Who are you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Miss Coeurne.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I see.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. I am still quite a simple +girl.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I know. But come here, Miss +Coeurne. (Sits down in an armchair and draws her up in front of him.) Let me +have a serious talk with you, such as you have never heard before in your young +life but seem to need very much at the present time. Do you think because I am +an artist—now don't misunderstand me, please. You are—how old are you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Twenty-two.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> You are sixteen, at most +seventeen. You make yourself several years older in order to appear more +attractive to me. Well now? You are still quite simple, to be sure. But, as I +was going to say, my being an artist certainly does not impose upon me the duty +to help you to get over being simple! Don't take it amiss. Well? Why are you +looking away now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. I told you I was still +very simple because that's the way they like to have young girls here in +Germany.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am not a German, my child, +but at the same time ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Well?—I am not so simple, +after all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am no children's nurse +either! That's not the right word, I feel it, for—you are no longer a child, +unfortunately?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. No!—Unfortunately!—Not +now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> But you see, my dear young +woman—you have your games of tennis, you have your skating club, you may go +bicycling or take mountain trips with your lady friends. You may enjoy yourself +swimming or riding on horseback or dancing whichever you like. I am sure you +have everything a young girl could wish for. Then why do you come to me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Because I hate all of +that and because it's such a bore!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> You are right; I won't dispute +what you say. Indeed, you embarrass me. I myself, I must frankly confess, see +something else in life. But, my child, I am a man and I am thirty-six years old. +The time will come when you may likewise lay claim to a deeper and fuller life. +Get two years older and, I am sure, the right one will turn up for you. Then it +will not be necessary for you to come unasked to me, that is to say to one whom +you do not know any more intimately than—all Europe knows him—and to conceal +yourself behind the window curtains in order to get a taste of the higher life. +(Pause. <span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> breathes heavily.) Well?—Let me +thank you cordially and sincerely for your roses! (Presses her hand.) Will you +be satisfied with that for today?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. As old as I am, I never +yet gave a thought to a man until I saw you on the stage yesterday as +Tannhäuser.—And I will promise you ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Oh please, child, don't +promise me anything. How can a promise you might make at the present time be of +any value to me? The disadvantage of it would be entirely yours. You see, my +child, the most loving father could not speak more lovingly to you than I. Thank +a kind providence for not having been delivered into some other artist's hands +by your indiscretion. (Presses her hand.) Let it be a lesson to you for the rest +of your life and be satisfied with that.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (covering her face with +her handkerchief, in an undertone, without tears). Am I so ugly?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Ugly?—How does that make you +ugly?—You are young and indiscreet! (Rises nervously, walks over to the left, +returns, puts his arm around her and takes her hand.) Listen to me, my child! If +I have to sing, if I am an artist by profession, how does that make you ugly? +What an unreasonable inference: I am ugly, I am ugly. And yet it is the same +wherever I go. Think of it! When I've only a few minutes left to catch the +train, and tomorrow night it's Tristan ...! Do not misunderstand me, but surely, +my being a singer does not make it incumbent upon me to affirm the charm of your +youthfulness and beauty. Does that make you ugly, my child? Make your appeal to +other people who are not as hard-pressed as I am. Do you really think it would +ever occur to me to, say such a thing to you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. To say it? No. But to +think it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Now, Miss Coeurne, let us be +reasonable! Do not inquire into my thoughts about you. Really, at this moment +they do not concern us in the least. I assure you, and please take my word for +it as an artist, for I could not be more honest to you: I am unfortunately so +constituted that I simply cannot bear to see any creature whatsoever suffer, not +even the meanest. (Looking at her critically, but with dignity.) And for you, my +child, I am sincerely sorry; I may say that much, after you have so far fought +down your maidenly pride as to wait for me here. But please, Miss Coeurne, do +take into account the life I have to lead. Just think of the mere question of +time! At least two hundred, may be as many as three hundred charmingly +attractive young girls of your age saw me on the stage yesterday in the part of +Tannhäuser. Suppose now every one of these young girls expected as much of me as +you do. What in the world would become of my singing? What would become of my +voice? Just how could I keep up my profession? (She sinks into a chair, covers +her face and weeps; he sits down on the armrest beside her, bends over her, +sympathetically.) It's really sinful of you, my child, to shed tears over being +so young. Your whole life is still before you. Be patient. The thought of your +youth should make you happy. How glad the rest of us would be—even if one lives +the life of an artist like myself—to start over again from the very beginning. +Please be not ungrateful for hearing me yesterday. Spare me this disconcerting +sequel. Am I to blame for your falling in love with me? You are only one of +many. My manager insists on my assuming this august manner on the stage. You see +there's more to it than mere singing. I simply have to play the part of +Tannhäuser that way. Now be good, my child. I have only a few moments left. Let +me use them in preparing for tomorrow.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (rises, dries her tears), +I cannot imagine another girl acting like me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (manœuvering her to the door). +Quite right, my child ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (gently resisting him, +sobbing). At least not—if ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> If my valet were not guarding +the door downstairs.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (as above). —if—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> If she is as pretty and +charmingly young as you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (as above). —if—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> If she has heard me just once +as Tannhäuser.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (sobbing again violently). +If she is as respectable as I!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (pointing to the grand piano). +Now, before you leave, take a look at those flowers. Let it be a warning to you, +if you should ever feel tempted again to fall in love with a singer. Do you see, +how fresh they are, all of them! I just let them fade and go to waste or give +them to the porter. Then look at these letters. (Takes a handful from the tray.) +I know none of the ladies who have written them; don't you worry. I leave them +to their fate. What else can I do? But, you may believe me, every one of your +charming young friends is among them.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (pleadingly). Well, I +won't hide myself a second time.—I won't do it again ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Really, my child, I haven't +any more time. It's too bad, but I am about to leave town. I told you, did I +not, that I am sorry for you? I really am, but my train is scheduled to leave in +twenty-five minutes. So what more do you want?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. A kiss.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (standing up stiff and +straight). From me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (putting his arm around her, +dignified, but sympathetic). You are desecrating art, my child. Do you really +think it's for this that they are willing to pay my weight in gold? Get older +first and learn to respect more highly the chaste goddess to whom I devote my +life and labor.—You don't know whom I mean?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> That's what I thought. Now, in +order not to be inhuman, I will present you with my picture. Will you give me +your word that after that you will leave me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Very well, then. (Walks back +of the table to sign one of his photographs.) Why don't you try to interest +yourself in the operas themselves rather than in the men on the stage? You may +find it to be a higher enjoyment, after all.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span> (in an undertone). I am +too young.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Sacrifice yourself to music! +(Comes forward and hands her the photograph.) You are too young, but—may be +you'll succeed in spite of that. Do not see in me the famous singer, but the +unworthy tool in the hands of a master. Look around among the married women you +know; all of them Wagnerians! Study his librettos, learn to feel each leitmotiv. +That will keep you from committing indiscretions.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Miss Coeurne</span>. I thank you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (escorts her out into the hall, +rings for the valet in passing through the door. Returns and picks up again the +piano arrangement of "Tristan and Isolde;" walks to the right). Come in!</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE V</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> <span class="sc">Valet</span>. </p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (panting and breathless). Yes, +Sir? Your orders?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Are you standing at the door +downstairs?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. Not at present. Sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I can see as much—simpleton! +But you won't let anybody come up here, will you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. There were three ladies +inquiring about you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Don't you dare admit anybody, +whatever they tell you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. Then there's another batch of +letters.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Yes, never mind. (Valet puts +letter on tray.) Don't you dare admit anybody!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (at the door). Very well. Sir.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Not even, if they should offer +you an annuity for life.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span>. Very well, Sir. [Exit.]</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VI</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span></p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (alone, tries to sing). +"Isolde! Beloved! Art thou ..." I should think these women might get tired of me <i> +some</i> time! But, then, the world holds so many of them! And I am only one. +Well, everybody bears his yoke and has to bear it! (Walks to the piano and +strikes two thirds.)</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_370" href="#pixRef_370"><img src="images/pg370.png" alt="Siegfried_Wagner"></a></p> +<p class="center">SIEGFRIED WAGNER</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VII</h2> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> <span class="sc">Professor +Dühring</span>. Later a piano teacher.</p> + +<p class="hang1">Professor Dühring, seventy years old, dressed in black, long, +white beard, his aquiline nose tinged with red, suggesting fondness for wine, +gold ringed spectacles, frock coat and silk hat, carries the score of an opera +under his arm, enters without knocking.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (turning around). What do you +want?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Mr. Gerardo, I—I have ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> How did you get in here?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. I've been watching my chance +for two hours down on the sidewalk, Mr. Gerardo.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (recollecting). Let me see, you +are ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. For fully two hours I've been +standing down on the sidewalk. What else was I to do?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> But, my dear sir, I haven't +the time.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. I don't mean to play the whole +opera to you now.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I haven't the time left ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. You haven't the time left! How +about <i>me</i>! You are thirty. You have attained success in your art. You can +continue following your bent through the whole long life that still is before +you. I will ask you to listen only to your own part in my opera. You promised to +do so when you came to town.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It's to no purpose, Sir. I am +not my own master ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Please, Mr. Gerardo! Please, +please! Look at me, here's an old man lying before you on his knees who has +known only one thing in life: his art. I know what you would reply to me, you, a +young man who has been carried aloft on the wings of angels, one might say. "If +you would have the goddess of Fortune find you, don't hunt for her." Do you +imagine, when one has cherished but a single hope for fifty years, one could +possibly have overlooked any means whatsoever within human reach, to attain that +hope? First one turns cynical and then serious again. tries to get there by +scheming, one is once more a light hearted child, and again an earnest seeker +after one's artistic ideals—not for ambition's sake, not for conviction's sake, +but simply because one cannot help it, because it's a curse which has been laid +on one by a cruel omnipotence to which the life-long agony of its creature is a +pleasing offering! A pleasing offering, I say, for we whom art enthralls rebel +against our lot as little as does the slave of a woman against his seductress, +as little as does the dog against his master who whips him.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (in despair). I am powerless +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Let me tell you, my dear Sir, +the tyrants of antiquity who, as you know, would have their slaves tortured to +death just for a pleasant pastime, they were mere children, they were harmless +innocent little angels as compared with that divine providence which thought it +was creating those tyrants in its own image.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> While I quite comprehend you +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (while <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +vainly tries several times to interrupt him; he follows <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +through the room and repeatedly blocks his attempt to reach the door). You do +not comprehend me. You cannot comprehend me. How could you have had the time to +comprehend me! Fifty years of fruitless labor, Sir, that is more than you can +comprehend, if one has been a favorite child of fortune like you. But I'll try +to make you realize it approximately, at least. You see, I am too old to take my +own life. The proper time to do that is at twenty-five, and I have missed my +opportunity. I must live out my life now, my hand has grown too unsteady. But +would you know what an old man like me will do! You ask me how I got in here. +You have put your valet on guard at the hotel entrance. I did not try to slip by +him, I've known for fifty years what he will tell me: the gentleman is not in. +But with my score here I stood at the corner of the building for two hours in +the rain until he went up for a moment. Then I followed him, and while you were +speaking to him in here, I concealed myself on the staircase—I need not tell you +where. And then, when he had gone down again, I entered here. That's what a man +of my years will do to reach one who might be his grandson. Please, Sir, please, +let not this moment be without result for me even though it cost you a day, even +though it cost you a whole week. It will be to your advantage as well as mine. A +week ago, when you came to town on your starring tour, you promised me to let me +play my opera to you; and since that time I've called every day. You either were +rehearsing or had lady visitors. And now you are about to depart, which would +mean that an old man like me in vain spent a whole week standing around in the +street! And all it would cost you is a single word: "I will sing your Hermann." +Then my opera will be performed. Then you will thank God for my intrusiveness, +for—you sing "Siegfried," you sing "Florestan"—but you haven't in your repertory +a more grateful part, one more adapted to a singer of your resources than that +of "Hermann." Then with loud acclaim they will draw me out of my obscurity, and +perhaps I'll have the opportunity of giving to the world at least a part of what +I might have given, if it had not cast me out like a leper. But the great +material gain resulting from my long struggle will not be mine, you alone will +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (having given up the attempt to +stop his visitor, leans on the mantle piece of the fireplace. While drumming on +the marble slab with his right hand, something behind the screen seems to excite +his curiosity. He investigates, then suddenly reaches out and draws a piano +teacher forward, dressed in gray. Holding her by the collar, with outstretched +arm, he thus leads her forward in front of the piano and out through the centre +door. Having locked the door, to <span class="sc">Dühring</span>). Please, don't +let this interrupt you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. You see, there are performed +ten new operas every year which become impossible after the second night, and +every ten years a good one which lives. Now this opera of mine <i>is</i> a good +one, it is well adapted for the stage, it is sure to be a financial success. If +you let me, I'll show you letters from Liszt, from Wagner, from Rubinstein, in +which these men look up to me as to a superior being. And why has it remained +unperformed to the present day? Because I don't stand in the public +market-place. I tell you, it's like what will happen to a young girl who for +three years has been the reigning beauty at all dancing parties, but has +forgotten to become engaged. One has to give way to another generation. Besides +you know our court theatres. They are fortresses, I can assure you, compared +with which the armor-plate of Metz and Rastadt is the merest tin. They would +rather dig out ten corpses than admit a single living composer. And it's in +getting over these ramparts that I ask you to lend me a hand. You are inside at +thirty, I am outside at seventy. It would cost you just a word to let me in, +while I am vainly battering my head against stone and steel. That's why I have +come to you (<i>very passionately</i>) and if you are not absolutely inhuman, if +your success has not killed off in you the very last trace of sympathy with +striving fellow-artists, you cannot refuse my request.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I will let you know a week +from now. I will play your opera through. Let me take it along.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. I am too old for that, Mr. +Gerardo. Long before a week, as measured by your chronology, has elapsed, I +shall lie beneath the sod. I've been put off that way too often. (Bringing down +his fist on the piano.) Hie Rhodus! Hie salta! It's five years ago now that I +called on the manager of the Royal Theatre, Count Zedlitz: "What have you got +for me, my dearest professor?" "An opera, your Excellency." "Indeed, you have +written a new opera? Splendid!" "Your Excellency, I have not written a new +opera. It's an old opera. I wrote it thirteen years ago."—It wasn't this one +here, it was my <i>Maria de Medicis</i>.—"But why don't you let us have it then? +Why, we are just hunting for new works. We simply cannot shuffle through any +longer, turning the old ones over and over. My secretary is traveling from one +theatre to another, without finding anything, and you, who live right here, +withhold your production from us in proud disdain of the common crowd!" "Your +Excellency," I replied, "I am not withholding anything from anybody. Heaven is +my witness. I submitted this opera to your predecessor, Count Tornow, thirteen +years ago and had to go to his office myself three years later to get it back. +Nobody had as much as looked at it." "Now just leave it here, my dear professor. +A week from now at the latest you'll have our answer." And in saying this he +pulls the score from under my arm and claps it into the lowest drawer and that's +where it is lying today! That's where it is lying today, Sir! But what would I +do, child that I am in spite of my white hair, but go home and tell my Gretchen: +they need a new opera here at our theatre. Mine is practically accepted now! A +year later death took her away from me,—and she was the one friend left who had +been with me when I began to work on it. (Sobs and dries his tears.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Sir, I cannot but feel the +deepest sympathy for you ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. That's where it is lying +today.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> May be you actually are a +child in spite of your white hair. I must confess I doubt if I can help you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (in violent rage). So you can +endure the sight of an old man dragging himself along beside you on the same +path on which your victorious flight carries you to the sun! Who knows but +tomorrow you will lie on your knees before me and boast of knowing me, and today +you see in the agonized groan of a creative artist nothing but a sad mistake and +you cannot wring from your greed of gold the half hour it would take to rid me +of the chains that are crushing me.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Sit down and play, sir! Come!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (sits down at the piano, opens +his score, and strikes two chords). No, that's not the way it reads. I have to +get back into it first. (Strikes three chords, then turns several leaves.) That +is the overture; I won't detain you with it.—Now here comes the first scene ... +(Strikes two chords.) Here you stand at the deathbed of your father. Just a +moment until I get my bearings ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Perhaps all you say is quite +true. But at any rate you misjudge my position.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (plays a confused orchestration +and sings in a deep grating voice).</p> +<div style="margin-left:4em"> +<p class="continue">Alas, now death has come to the castle<br> + As it is raging in our huts.<br> + It moweth down both great and small ...</p> +</div> +<p class="hang1">(Interrupting himself.) No, that's the chorus. I had thought of +playing it to you because it's very good. Now comes your turn. (Resumes the +accompaniment and sings hoarsely:)</p> +<div style="margin-left:4em"> +<p class="continue"> My life unto this fateful hour<br> + Was dim and gray like the breaking morn.<br> + Tortured by demons, I roamed about.<br> + My eye is tearless!<br> + Oh let me kiss once more thy hoary hair!</p> +</div> +<p class="hang1">(Interrupting himself.) Well? (Since <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +does not answer, with violent irritation.) These anæmic, threadbare, plodding, +would-be geniuses who are puffing themselves up today! Whose technique is so +sublime, it makes them sterile, impotent at twenty! Meistersingers, philistines, +that's what they are, whether they are starving or basking in the public favor. +Fellows that go to the cookbook rather than to nature to satisfy their hunger. +They think, indeed, they've learned her secret—naiveté! Ha—ha!—Tastes like +plated brass!—They make art their starting-point rather than life! Write music +for musicians rather than for yearning mankind! Blind, benighted ephemerons! +Senile youths whom the sun of Wagner has dried and shriveled up! (Seizing <span class="sc"> +Gerardo's</span> arm violently.) To judge a man's creative genius, do you know +where I take hold of him first?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (stepping back). Well?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (putting his right hand around +his own left wrist and feeling his pulse). This is where I take hold of him +first of all. Do you see, right here! And if he hasn't anything here—please, let +me go on playing. (Turning more leaves.) I won't go through the whole monologue. +We shouldn't have the time anyway. Now here, scene three, end of the first act. +That's where the farm laborer's child, who had grown up with you in the castle, +suddenly enters. Now listen—after you have taken leave of your highly revered +mother. (Rapidly reading the text:) Demon, who art thou? May one enter? (To <span class="sc"> +Gerardo.</span>) Those words are hers, you understand. (Continues reading.) +Barbette! Yes, it is I. Is your father dead? There he lies! (Plays and sings in +the highest falsetto.)</p> +<div style="margin-left:4em"> +<p class="continue"> Full often did he stroke my curls.<br> + Wherever he met me he was kind to me.<br> + Alas, this is death.<br> + His eyes are closed ...</p> +</div> +<p class="hang1">(Interrupting himself, looking at <span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +with self-assurance.) Now isn't that music?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Possibly.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (striking two chords). Isn't +that something more than the +<i>Trumpeter of Säkkingen</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span>, Your confidence compels me to +be candid. I cannot imagine how I could use my influence with any benefit to +you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. In other words you mean to +tell me that it is antiquated music.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I would much rather call it +modern music.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Or modern music. Pardon my +slip of the tongue, Mr. Gerardo. It's what will happen when one gets old. You +see, one manager will write me: We cannot use your opera, it is antiquated +music—and another writes: We cannot use it because it is modern music. In plain +language both mean the same: We don't want any opera of yours, because as a +composer <i>you don't count</i>.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am a Wagner singer, Sir, I +am no critic. If you want to see your opera performed, you had better apply to +those who are paid for knowing what is good and what is bad. My judgment in such +matters, don't doubt that for a moment, Sir, counts the less, the more I am +recognized and esteemed as a singer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. My dear Mr. Gerardo, you may +rest assured, I don't believe in your judgment either. What do I care for your +judgment! I think I know what to expect of a tenor. I am playing this opera to +you to make you say: I'll sing your Hermann! I'll sing your Hermann!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It won't avail you anything. I +must do what I am asked to do; I am bound by my contracts. You can afford to +stand down in the street for a week. A day more or less makes no difference to +you. But if <i>I</i> do not leave here by the next train, my prospects in this +world are ruined. May be, in another world they will engage singers who break +their contracts! My chains are drawn more tightly than the harness of a carriage +horse. If anybody, even an absolute stranger, asks me for material assistance +lie will find I have an open hand, although the sacrifice of happiness my +calling exacts of me is not paid for with five hundred thousand francs a year. +But if you ask of me the slightest assertion of personal liberty, you are +expecting too much of a slave such as I am. I <i>can not</i> sing your Hermann +as long as you don't count as a composer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Please, Sir, let me continue. +It will give you a desire for the part.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> If you but knew, Sir, how +often I have a desire for things which I must deny myself and how often I must +assume burdens for which I have not the least desire! I have absolutely no +choice in the matter. You have been a free man all your life. How can you +complain of not being in the market? Why don't you go and put yourself in the +market?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Oh, the haggling—the +shouting—the meanness you meet with! I have tried it a hundred times.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> One must do what one is +capable of doing and not what one is incapable of doing.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Everything has to be learned +first.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> One must learn that which one +is capable of learning. How am I to know if the case is not very much the same +with your work as a composer.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. I <i>am</i> a composer, Mr. +Gerardo.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> You mean by that, you have +devoted your whole strength to the writing of operas.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Quite so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> And you hadn't any left to +bring about a performance.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. Quite so.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> The composers whom I know go +about it just the other way. They slap their operas on paper the best way they +know and keep their strength for bringing about a performance.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. They are a type of composer I +don't envy.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> They would reciprocate that +feeling, Sir. These people do count. One must be <i>something</i>. Name me a +single famous man who did not +<i>count</i>! If one is not a composer, one is something else, that's all, and +there's no need of being unhappy about it, either. I was something else myself +before I became a Wagner singer—something, my efficiency at which nobody could +doubt, and with which I was entirely satisfied. It is not for <i>us</i> to say +what we are intended for in this world. If it were, any Tom, Dick, or Harry +might come along! Do you know what I was before they discovered me? I was a +paperhanger's apprentice. Do you know what that is like! (Indicating by +gesture.) I put paper on walls—with paste. I don't conceal my humble origin from +anybody. Now just imagine, that as a paperhanger I should have taken it into my +head to become a Wagner singer! Do you know what they would have done to me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. They would have sent you to +the madhouse.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_380" href="#pixRef_380"><img src="images/pg380.png" alt="Leo_Tolstoy"></a></p> +<p class="center">LEO TOLSTOY</p> +<p class="center"><i>Permission Albert Langen, Munich</i><br> +FROM OLAF GULBRANSSON'S "FAMOUS CONTEMPORARIES"</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Exactly, and rightly so. +Whoever is dissatisfied with what he is will not get anywhere as long as he +lives. A healthy man does that at which he is successful; if he fails, he +chooses another calling. You spoke of the judgment of your friends. It does not +take much to obtain expressions of approbation and admiration which do not cost +those anything who utter them. Since my fifteenth year I have been paid for +every labor I've performed and should have considered it a disgrace to be +compelled to do something for nothing. Fifty years of fruitless struggling! Can +anybody be so stubborn as not to have that convince him of the impossibility of +his dreams! What did you get out of your life? You have sinfully wasted it! I +have never striven for anything out of the ordinary; but, Sir, I can assure you +of one thing: that since my earliest childhood days I have never had enough time +left to stand out in the street for a whole week. And if I were to think that in +my old days I might be compelled to do that very thing—Sir, I am speaking only +for myself now—but I cannot imagine how I could still muster the courage to look +people in the face.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. What? With such an opera in +your hands! Remember, I am not doing it for my own sake; I am doing it for art's +sake.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> You overestimate art. Let me +tell you that art is something quite different from what people make themselves +believe about it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span>. I know nothing higher on +earth!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> That's a view shared only by +people like yourself to whose interest it is to make this view prevail +generally. We artists are merely one of bourgeoisie's luxuries in paying for +which they will outbid each other. If you were right, how would an opera like <i> +Walküre</i> +be possible which deals with things the exposure of which is absolutely +abhorrent to the public. Yet when <i>I</i> sing the part of Siegmund, the most +solicitous mothers will not hesitate to bring in their thirteen or fourteen year +old daughters. And indeed, as I am standing on the stage, I know for certain +that not one person in the audience any longer pays the slightest attention to +the action itself. If they did they would get up and out. That's what they +actually did when the opera was still new. Now they have accustomed themselves +to ignoring it. They notice it as little as they notice the air separating them +from the stage. That, you see, is the meaning of what you call art! To this you +have sacrificed fifty years of your life! Our real duty as artists is to produce +ourselves to the paying public night after night under one pretense or another. +Nor is its interest limited to such exhibitions; it fastens itself as +tenaciously upon our private life. One belongs to the public with every breath +one draws; and because we submit to this for money, people never know which they +had better do most, idolize us or despise us. Go and find out how many went to +the theatre yesterday to hear me sing and how many came to gape at me as they +would gape at the emperor of China if he were to come to town tomorrow. Do you +know what the public is after in its pursuit of art? To shout bravos, to throw +flowers and wreaths upon the stage, to have something to talk about, to be seen +by others, to say Ah and Oh, once in a while to take a hand in unhitching a +performer's horses—these are the public's real wants, and I satisfy them. If +they pay me half a million, I in return furnish a living to a legion of cabmen, +writers, milliners, florists, tavernkeepers. The money is made to circulate. +People's blood is made to circulate. Young girls become engaged, old maids get +married, wives fall victims to their husbands' friends, and grandmothers get no +end of topics for gossip. Accidents and crimes are made to happen. At the ticket +office a child is trampled to death, a lady is robbed of her pocketbook, a +gentleman in the audience becomes insane during a performance. That creates +business for physicians, lawyers ... (he is seized by a fit of coughing.) And to +think in this condition I am to sing Tristan tomorrow!—I am not telling you +these things out of vanity but to cure you of your delusion. The standard by +which to judge a man's importance in this world is the world itself and not some +fixed conviction one may have acquired through years of brooding meditation. I +did not put myself in the market either; they discovered me. There are no +unappreciated, neglected geniuses. We are not the makers and masters of our own +fate; man is born a slave!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (who has been turning the +leaves of his manuscript). Please, before I go, let me play to you the first +scene of the second act. It's laid in a park, you know, just like the famous +picture: <i>Embarquement pour Cythère</i> ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> But I told you I haven't the +time! Besides what am I to gather from a few detached scenes?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (slowly packing up his +manuscript). I am afraid, Mr. Gerardo, you are somewhat misjudging me. After +all, I am not quite so unknown to the rest of the world as I am to you. My +person and name are known. Wagner himself mentions me often enough in his +writings. And let me tell you, if I die today, my works will be performed +tomorrow. I am as sure of that as I know that my music will retain its value. My +Berlin publisher writes me every day: All that's needed is for you to die. Why +then in the world don't you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> All I can reply to you is +this: that since Wagner's death there hasn't been a call for new operas +anywhere. If you offer new music, you have all conservatories, all singers and +the whole public against you from the start. If you want to see your works +performed, write a music which does not differ the least from what is in vogue +today; just copy; steal your opera in bits and scraps from the whole of Wagner's +operas. Then you may count with considerable probability on having it accepted. +My tremendous hit last night should prove to you that the old music is all +that's needed for years to come. And my opinion is that of every other singer, +of every manager and of the whole paying public. Why should I go out of my way +to have a new music whipped into me when the old music has already cost me such +inhuman whippings?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (offers him his trembling +hand). I am sorry but I fear I'm too old to learn to steal. That's the kind of +thing one has to begin young or one will never learn.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I hope I haven't offended you, +Sir.—But, my dear Sir,—if you would permit me—the thought that life means a hard +struggle to you—(speaking very rapidly) it so happens that I have received five +hundred marks more than I ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Dühring</span> (looks at <span class="sc"> +Gerardo</span> with his eyes wide open, then suddenly starts for the door). +Please, please, I beg of you, no! Don't finish what you meant to say. No, no, +no! That is not what I came for. You know what a great sage has said:—They are +all of them good-natured, but ...!—No, Mr. Gerardo, I did not ask you to listen +to my opera in order to practise extortion on you. I love my child too much for +that. No indeed, Mr. Gerardo ...</p> +<p class="right">[Exit through the centre door.]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (escorting him to the door). Oh +please. Sir.—Happy to have known you, Sir.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VIII</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (alone, comes forward, sinks +into an armchair, with basket of champagne in front of him, looks at the +bottles). For whom am I raking together so much money?—For my children I Yes, if +I had any children!—For my old age?—Two more years will make a wreck of me!—Then +it will be:</p> +<div style="margin-left:4em"> +<p class="continue"> "Alas, alas,<br> + The hobby is forgotten!"</p> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE IX</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span>, <span class="sc">Helen Marowa</span>, +later the valet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (of striking beauty, twenty-seven +years, street dress, muff; greatly excited). I am just likely, am I not, to let +that creature block my way! I suppose you placed him down there to prevent me +from reaching you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (has started from his chair). +Helen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Why, you knew that I was coming, +didn't you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Valet</span> (in the open door which has been +left so by <span class="sc">Helen</span>; holds hand to his cheek). I did my +very best, Sir, but the lady ... she ... she ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Boxed your ears!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Would you expect me to put up +with such an insult?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (to the valet). You may go. +[Exit <span class="sc">Valet</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (lays her muff on a chair). I can +no longer live without you. Either you will take me along or I shall kill +myself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I shall kill myself! You cut +asunder my vital nerve if you insist on our separation. You leave me without +either heart or brain. To live through another day like yesterday, a whole day +without seeing you,—I simply cannot do it. I am not strong enough for it. I +implore you, Oscar, take me along! I am pleading for my life!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It is impossible.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Nothing is impossible if you are +but willing! How can you say it is impossible? It is impossible for you to leave +me without killing me. These are no empty words, I do not mean it as a threat; +it is the simple truth! I am as certain of it as I can feel my own heart in +here: not to have you means death to me. Therefore take me along. If not for my +sake, do it for human mercy's sake! Let it be for only a short time, I don't +care.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I give you my word of honor, +Helen, I cannot do it.—I give you my word of honor.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. You must do it, Oscar! Whether +you can or not, you must bear the consequences of your own acts. My life is dear +to me, but you and my life are one. Take me with you, Oscar, unless you want to +shed my blood!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Do you remember what I told +you the very first day within these four walls?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I do. But of what good is that +to me now?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> That there could be no thought +of any real sentiment in our relations?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Of what good is that to me now? +Did I know you then? Why, I did not know what a man could be like until I knew +you! You foresaw it would come to this or you would not have begun by exacting +from me that promise not to make a scene at your departure. Besides do you think +there is anything I should not have promised you if you had asked me to? That +promise means my death. You will have cheated me out of my life if you go and +leave me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I cannot take you with me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Good Heavens, didn't I know that +you would say that! Didn't I know before coming here! It's such a matter of +course! You tell every one of them so. And why am I better than they! I am one +of a hundred. There are a million women as good as I. I needn't be told, I +<i>know</i>.—But I am ill, Oscar! I am sick unto death! I am love-sick! I am +nearer to death than to life! That is your work, and you can save me without +sacrificing anything, without assuming a burden. Tell me, why can you not?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (emphasizing every word). +Because my contract does not allow me either to marry or to travel in the +company of ladies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (perplexed). What is to prevent +you?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> My contract.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. You are not allowed to ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am not allowed to marry +until my contract has expired.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. And you are not allowed to ...?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am not allowed to travel in +the company of ladies.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. That's incomprehensible to me. +Whom in the world does it concern?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It concerns my manager.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Your manager?—What business is +it of his?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It is his <i>business</i>.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Perhaps because it might affect +your voice?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Why, that's childish!—<i>Does</i> +it affect your voice?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> It does not.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Does your manager believe such +nonsense?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> No, he does not believe it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. That's incomprehensible to me. I +don't understand how a—respectable man can sign such a contract!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> My rights as a man are only a +secondary consideration. I am an artist in the first place.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes, you are. A great artist! An +eminent artist! Don't you comprehend how I must love you? Is that the only thing +your great mind cannot comprehend? All that makes me appear contemptible now in +my relation to you is due to just this, that I see in you the only man who has +ever made me feel his superiority to me and whom it has been my sole thought to +win. I have clenched my teeth to keep from betraying to you what you are to me +for fear you might weary of me. But my experience of yesterday has left me in a +state of mind which no woman can endure. If I did not love you so madly, Oscar, +you would think more of me. That is so terrible in you that you must despise the +woman whose whole world you are. Of what I formerly was to myself there is not a +trace left. And now that your passion has left me a burned-out shell, would you +leave me here? You are taking my life with you, Oscar! Then take with you as +well this flesh and blood which has been yours, or it will perish!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Contracts! What are contracts to +you! Why, there's not a contract made that one cannot get around in some way! +What do people make contracts for? Don't use your contract as a weapon with +which to murder me. I am not afraid of your contracts! Let me go with you, +Oscar! We'll see if he as much as mentions a breach of contract. He won't do it +or I am a poor judge of human nature. And if he does object, it will still be +time for me to die.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> But we have no right to +possess each other, Helen! You are as little free to follow me as I am to assume +such a responsibility. I do not belong to myself; I belong to my art ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Oh don't talk to me of your art! +What do I care for your art. I've clung to your art merely to attract your +attention. Did Heaven create a man like you to let you make a clown of yourself +night after night? Are you not ashamed of boasting of it? You see that I am +willing to overlook your being an artist. What wouldn't one overlook in a +demigod like you? And if you were a convict, Oscar, I could not feel differently +toward you. I have lost all control over myself! I should still lie in the dust +before you as I am doing now! I should still implore your mercy as I am doing +now! My own self would still be abandoned to you as it is now! I should still be +facing death as I am now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (laughing). Why, Helen, you and +facing death! Women so richly endowed for the enjoyment of life as you are do +not kill themselves. You know the value of life better than I. You are too +happily constituted to cast it away. That is left for others to do—for stunted +and dwarfed creatures, the stepchildren of nature.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Oscar, I did not say that I was +going to shoot myself. When did I say that? How could I summon the courage? I +say that I shall die if you do not take me with you just as one might die of any +ailment because I can live only if I am with you! I can live without anything +else—without home, without children, but not without you, Oscar! I can +<i>not</i> live without <i>you</i>!</p> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (uneasy). Helen—if you do not +calm yourself now, you will force me to do something terrible! I have just ten +minutes left. The scene you are making here won't be accepted as a legal excuse +for my breaking my contract! No court would regard your excited state of mind as +a sufficient justification. I have ten more minutes to give you. If by that time +you have not calmed yourself, Helen—then I cannot leave you to yourself!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Oh let the whole world see me +lie here!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Consider what you will risk!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. As if I had anything left to +risk!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> You might lose your social +position.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. All I can lose is you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> What about those to whom you +belong?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I can now belong to no one but +you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> But I do not belong to you!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I've nothing left to lose but +life itself.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> How about your children?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (flaring up). Who took me away +from them, Oscar! Who robbed my children of their mother!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Did I make advances to <i>you</i>?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (with intense passion). No, no! +Don't think that for a moment! I just threw myself at you and should throw +myself at you again today! No husband, no children could restrain me! If I die, +I have at least tasted life! Through you, Oscar! I owe it to you that I have +come to know myself! I have to thank you for it, Oscar!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen—now listen to me calmly +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes, yes—there are ten minutes +left ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Listen to me calmly ... (Both +sit down on the sofa.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (staring at him). I have to thank +you for it ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen—</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I don't ask you to love me. If I +may but breathe the same air with you ...!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (struggling to preserve his +composure). Helen—to a man like me the conventional rules of life cannot be +applied. I have known society women in all the lands of Europe. They have made +me scenes, too, when it was time for me to leave—but when it came to choosing, I +always knew what I owed to my position. Never yet have I met with such an +outburst of passion as yours. Helen—I am tempted every day to withdraw to some +idyllic Arcadia with this or that woman. But one has his duty to perform; you as +well as I; and duty is the highest law ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. I think I know better by this +time, Oscar, what is the highest law.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Well, what is it? Not your +love, I hope? That's what every woman says! Whatever a woman wants to carry +through she calls good, and if anybody refuses to yield to her then he is bad. +That's what our fool playwrights have done for us. In order to draw full houses +they put the world upside down and call it great-souled if a woman sacrifices +her children and her family to indulge her senses. I should like to live like a +turtledove, too. But as long as I have been in this world I have first obeyed my +duty. If after that the opportunity offered, then, to be sure, I've enjoyed life +to the full. But if one does not follow one's duty, one has no right to make the +least claims on others.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (looking away; abstractedly). +That will not bring the dead to life again ...</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_390" href="#pixRef_390"><img src="images/pg390.png" alt="D._Mommsen"></a></p> +<p class="center">D. MOMMSEN</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (nervously). Why, Helen, don't +you see, I want to give back your life to you! I want to give back to you what +you have sacrificed to me. Take it, I implore you! Don't make more of it than it +is! Helen, how can a woman so disgracefully humiliate herself! What has become +of your pride? With what contempt would you have shown me my proper place if I +had fallen in love with you, if it had occurred to me to be jealous! What am I +in the eyes of the society in which you move! A man who makes a clown of +himself! Would you fling away your life for a man whom a hundred women have +loved before you, whom a hundred women will love after you without allowing it +to cause them a moment of distress! Do you want your flowing blood to make you +ridiculous in the sight of God and man?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (looking away). I know very well +that I am asking an unheard-of thing of you but—what else can I do ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (soothingly). I have given you +all that's in my power to give. Even to a princess I could not be more than I +have been to you. If there is one thing further our relations, if continued, +might mean to you, it could only be the utter ruin of your life. Now release me, +<span class="sc">Helen</span>! I understand how hard you find it, but—one often +fears one is going to die. I myself often tremble for my life—art as a +profession is so likely to unstring one's nerves. It's astonishing how soon one +will get over that kind of thing. Resign yourself to the fortuitousness of life. +We did not seek one another because we loved each other; we loved each other +because we happened to find one another! (Shrugging his shoulders.) You say I +must bear the consequences of my acts, Helen. Would you in all seriousness think +ill of me now for not refusing you admittance when you came under the pretext of +having me pass on your voice? I dare say you think too highly of your personal +advantages for that; you know yourself too well; you are too proud of your +beauty. Tell me, were you not absolutely certain of victory when you came?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (looking away). Oh, what was I a +week ago! And what—what am I now!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (in a matter-of-fact way). +Helen, ask yourself this question: what choice is left to a man in such a case? +You are generally known as the most beautiful woman in this city. Now shall I, +an artist, allow myself to acquire the reputation of an unsociable lout who +shuts himself up in his four walls and denies himself to all visitors? The +second possibility would be to receive you while at the same time pretending not +to understand you. That would give me the wholly undeserved reputation of a +simpleton. Third possibility—but this is extremely dangerous—I explain to you +calmly and politely the very thing I am saying to you now. But that is very +dangerous! For apart from your immediately giving me an insulting reply, calling +me a vain conceited fool, it would, if it became known, make me appear in a most +curious light. And what would at best be the result of my refusing the honor +offered me? That you would make of me a contemptible helpless puppet, a target +for your feminine wit, a booby whom you could tease and taunt as much as you +liked, whom you could torment and put on the rack until you had driven him mad. +(He has risen from the sofa.) Say yourself, Helen; what choice was left to me? +(She stares at him, then turns her eyes about helplessly, shudders and struggles +for an answer.) In such a case I face just this alternative:—to make an enemy +who despises me or—to make an enemy who at least respects me. And (stroking her +hair) Helen!—one does not care to be despised by a woman of such universally +recognized beauty. Now does your pride still permit you to ask me to take you +with me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (weeping profusely). Oh God, oh +God, oh God, oh God ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Your social position gave you +the opportunity to make advances to me. You availed yourself of it.—I am the +last person to think ill of you for that. But no more should you think ill of me +for wishing to maintain my rights. No man could be franker with a woman than I +have been with you. I told you that there could be no thought of any +sentimentalities between you and me. I told you that my profession prevented me +from binding myself. I told you that my engagement in this city would end today +...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (rising). Oh how my head rings! +It's just words, words, words I hear! But I (putting her hands to her heart and +throat) am choking here and choking here! Oscar—matters are worse than you +realize! A woman such as I am more or less in the world—I have given life to two +children. What would you say, Oscar ... what would you say if tomorrow I should +go and make another man as happy as you have been with me? What would you say +then, Oscar?—Speak!—Speak!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> What I should say? Just +nothing. (Looking at his watch.) Helen ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Oscar!—(On her knees.) I am +imploring you for my life! For my life! It's the last time I shall ask you for +it! Demand anything of me! But not that! Don't ask my life! You don't know what +you are doing! You are mad! You are beside yourself! It's the last time! You +detest me because I love you! Let not these minutes pass!—Save me! Save me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (pulls her up in spite of her). +Now listen to a kind word!—Listen to a—kind—word ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (in an undertone). So it must be!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen—how old are your +children?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. One is six and the other four.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Both girls?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> The one four years old is a +boy?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> And the younger one a girl?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Both boys?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Have you no pity for them?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> How happy I should be if they +were mine!—Helen—would you give them to me?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (half jokingly). Suppose I +should be as unreasonable as you—taking it into my head that I am in love with +some particular woman and can love no other! I cannot marry her. I cannot take +her with me. Yet I must leave. Just what would that lead me to?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (from now on growing constantly +calmer). Yes, yes.—Certainly.—I understand.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Believe me, Helen, there are +any number of men in this world like me. The very way you and I have met ought +to teach you something. You say you cannot live without me. How many men do you +know? The more you will come to know the lower you will rate them. Then you +won't think again of taking your life for a man's sake. You will have no higher +opinion of them than I have of women.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. You think I am just like you. I +am not.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> I am quite serious, Helen. +Nobody loves just one particular person unless he does not know any other. +Everybody loves his own kind and can find it anywhere when he has once learned +how to go about it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (smiling). And when one has met +one's kind, one is always sure of having one's love returned!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (drawing her down on the sofa). +You have no right, Helen, to complain of your husband! Why did you not know +yourself better! Every young girl is free to choose for herself. There is no +power on earth that could compel a girl to belong to a man whom she doesn't +like. No such violence can be done to woman's rights. That's a kind of nonsense +those women would like to make the world believe who having sold themselves for +some material advantage or other would prefer to escape their obligations.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (smiling). Which would be a +breach of contract, I suppose.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> If <i>I</i> sell myself, they +are at least dealing with an honest man!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (smiling). Then one who loves is +not honest!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> No!—Love is a distinctly +philistine virtue. Love is sought by those who do not venture out into the +world, who fear a comparison with others, who haven't the courage to face a fair +trial of strength. Love is sought by every miserable rhymester who cannot live +without being idolized by some one. Love is sought by the peasant who yokes his +wife together with his ox to his plow. Love is a refuge for molly-coddles and +cowards!—In the great world in which I live everybody is recognized for what he +is actually worth. If two join together, they know exactly what to think of one +another and need no love for it.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (once more in a pleading tone). +Will you not introduce me into that great world of yours!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen—would you sacrifice your +own happiness and that of your family for a fleeting pleasure!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. No.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Do you promise me to return to +your family without show of reluctance!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> And that you will not die, not +even as one might die of some ailment!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Do you really promise me!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> That you will be true to your +duties as a mother—and as a wife!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Helen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes!—What more do you want!—I +promise you.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> That I may leave town without +fear!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span> (rising). Yes.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo.</span> Now shall we kiss each other +once more!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. Yes—yes—yes—yes—yes—yes ...</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (after kissing her in a +perfunctory manner). A year from now, Helen, I shall sing again in this town.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Helen</span>. A year from now!—Yes, to be +sure.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (affectedly sentimental). +Helen! (<span class="sc">Helen</span> presses his hand, takes her muff from the +chair, pulls from it a revolver, shoots herself in the head and sinks to the +floor.) Helen! (He totters forward, then backward and sinks into an armchair.) +Helen! (Pause.)</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE X</h2> + +<p class="center">Same as before. The elevator boy. Two chambermaids. A +scrubwoman. +<span class="sc">Müller</span>. proprietor of the hotel. The valet.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Elevator Boy</span> (enters, looks at <span class="sc"> +Gerardo</span> and at <span class="sc">Helen</span>). Mr.—Mr. Gerardo! (<span class="sc">Gerardo</span> +does not move. Boy steps up to <span class="sc">Helen</span>. Two chambermaids +and a scrubwoman, scrubber in hand, edge their way in hesitatively and step up +to <span class="sc">Helen</span>. )</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Scrubwoman</span> (after a pause). She's still +alive.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (jumps up, rushes to the door +and runs into the proprietor. Pulls him forward). Send for the police! I must be +arrested! If I leave now, I am a brute and if I remain, I am ruined, for it +would be a breach of contract. (Looking at his watch.) I still have a minute and +ten seconds left. Quick! I must be arrested within that time!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Müller</span>. Fritz, get the nearest +policeman!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Elevator Boy</span>. Yes, Sir!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Müller</span>. Run as fast as you can! (Exit +elevator boy. To <span class="sc">Gerardo.</span>) Don't let it upset you, Mr. <span class="sc"> +Gerardo.</span> That kind of thing is an old story with us here.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (kneels down beside <span class="sc"> +Helen</span>, takes her hand). Helen! She's still alive! She's still alive! (To <span class="sc"> +Müller</span>. ) If I am arrested, it counts as a legal excuse. How about my +trunks?—Is the carriage at the door?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Müller</span>. Has been there the last twenty +minutes, Sir. (Goes to the door and lets in the valet who carries down one of +the trunks.)</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (bending over <span class="sc"> +Helen</span>). Helen!—(In an undertone.) It can't hurt me professionally. (To <span class="sc"> +Müller</span>. ) Haven't you sent for a physician yet?</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Müller</span>. The doctor has been 'phoned to +at once. Will be here in just a minute, I am sure.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (putting his arms under <span class="sc"> +Helen's</span> and half raising her). Helen!—Don't you recognize me, Helen?—Come +now, the physician will be here in just a moment!—Your Oscar, Helen!—Helen!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Elevator Boy</span> (in the open door). Can't +find a policeman anywhere!</p> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Gerardo</span> (forgets everything, jumps up, +lets <span class="sc">Helen</span> fall back to the floor). I must sing +"Tristan" tomorrow! (Colliding with several pieces of furniture, he rushes out +through the centre door.)</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1><a name="div1_hardt" href="#div1Ref_hardt">ERNST HARDT</a></h1> + +<hr class="W10"> + +<h2><a name="div2_tristram" href="#div2Ref_tristram">TRISTRAM THE JESTER</a>[A]</h2> + +<p class="center">[Footnote A: Permission Richard G. Badger, Boston.]</p> +<br> +<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ</h3> + +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Mark</span>, <i>King of Cornwall</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> <i>of Ireland</i> (<span class="sc">Mark's</span> <i> +wife</i>)</p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>, <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> <i> +lady</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>, <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> <i> +lady</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>, <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> <i> +page</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Duke Denovalin</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Sir Dinas</span> <i>of Lidan</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Sir Ganelun</span></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>, <span class="sc">Mark's</span> <i> +jester</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Strange Jester</span>, <i>disguise of</i> <span class="sc"> +TRISTRAM</span> <i>of Lyonesse</i></p> +<p class="continue"><span class="sc">Strange Leper</span>, <i>disguise of</i> <span class="sc"> +TRISTRAM</span> <i>of Lyonesse</i></p> + +<p class="hang1">Also five Gaelic Barons. <span class="sc">Iwein</span>, the +King of the Lepers. The Lepers of Lubin, a Herald, a young shepherd, the +Executioner. Three guards in full armor, the Strange Knight, Knights, +Men-at-arms, grooms and a group of the inhabitants of the town.</p> +<p class="hang1">Dress and bearing of the characters have something of the +chaste, reserved manner of the princely statues in the choir of Naumburg +Cathedral.</p> + +<p class="center">Scene—The Castle of St. Lubin</p> + + + + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<div style="margin-right:11em"> + +<h2>TRISTRAM THE JESTER (1907)</h2> + +<h3>TRANSLATED BY JOHN HEARD, JR.</h3> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ACT I</h2> + + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Iseult's</span> apartment at St. Lubin.—A +curtain hung from the ceiling cuts off one-third of the room. This third is +raised one step above the rest of the room. The background is formed by a double +bay-window through which may be seen the tops of some pine trees. In front of a +couch, on a small table, stands a large gold shrine in which rests the magic +brachet Peticru, a toy of jewels and precious metals. Beside it stands a burning +oil torch. The remaining two-thirds of the room are almost empty. A table stands +in the foreground; on the floor lies a rug on which are embroidered armorial +designs. In the middle and at both sides are wide double doors. <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span> sits on the couch before the shrine. She is clad in a fur-trimmed +robe. <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> loosens <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> +hair which is divided into two braids. The cold, gray light of dawn brightens +gradually; the rising sun falls on the tops of the trees, coloring them with a +flood of red and gold.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (singing).<br> + Brachet of safran and em'rald!<br> + Oh, brachet of purple and gold<br> + Once made by the mighty Urgán<br> + In Avalun's wondrous wold.</p> + +<p class="hang4">Oh purple, and safran, and gold,<br> + When cast in the dim of the night,<br> + Have magical power to aid<br> + All lovers in sorrowful plight!</p> + +<p class="hang4">Lord Tristram slew mighty Urgán,<br> + Lord Tristram the loving, the true,<br> + And pitying sorrowful lovers<br> + He carried away Peticru.<br> + Lord Tristram, the thoughtful and valiant,<br> + Lord Tristram, the noble and high,<br> + Has sent me this wondrous brachet<br> + Lest weeping and grieving I die.</p> + +<p class="hang4">Lord Tristram, my friend, is unfaithful,<br> + And God's wrath on him shall descend;<br> + Though cruelly he has betrayed me,<br> + My love even death cannot end.</p> + +<p class="hang4">Iseult with her hair of spun gold,<br> + Where rubies and emeralds shine,<br> + When the end of her life is at hand,<br> + Round Tristram some charm can entwine.</p> + +<p class="hang4">—When Tristram too shall die....</p> + +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span> stands up, extinguishes the +light,<br> + and, flooded by her hair, steps to the window.<br> + <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> opens a chest from which she +takes<br> + robes, combs, a mirror, and several small<br> + boxes. She prepares a small dressing table.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> The light begins to +filter through the land;<br> + Behold, the trees with storm-bow'd tips drop down<br> + A thousand drops into the moss below<br> + That seem as many sparks, all cold and bright.</p> + +<p class="hang4">Each day is followed by another one,<br> + And then another day, and after each<br> + Comes night. Thus runs my life's long chain of beads,<br> + All black and white, endless, and all the same.</p> + +<p class="right">[She turns and throws off her cloak.]</p> + +<p class="hang4">Give me my new white cloak, and comb my hair,<br> + I pray, Brangaene.—O, it aches!</p> + +<p class="hang5"> [<span class="sc">Brangaene</span> throws a cloak over her +shoulders.<br> + <span class="sc">Iseult</span> sits down at the dressing table +while<br> + <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> combs her hair, dividing it +into<br> + strands and throwing it, as she combs it,<br> + over <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> shoulder.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> The +comb<br> + Slides like a keel. Its narrow teeth can find<br> + No bottom, neither shore in this blond sea.<br> + I never saw thy hair so full, Iseult,<br> + Nor yet so heavy! See the golden gold.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> It aches—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> And here it's damp +as though last night<br> + It secretly had dried full many tears.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I wonder if Lord +Tristram spent last night<br> + By his new bride—and if he calls her all<br> + Those sweetest names he made for me.<br> + Perhaps<br> + He sat upon her couch and told her tales<br> + Of me that made them laugh—! I wonder too<br> + If she be fair. Lord Tristram's new-wed bride!—</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> turns quickly as her page comes +in by the right hand door. He carries a chess-board and sets it down on the +table in the foreground.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Were then thy dreams too +painfully like this life,<br> + Paranis, that thou hast outstripped the sun<br> + And now, with eyes all red and swollen, star'st<br> + So heavily?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Your +pardon. Queen Iseult,<br> + I could not sleep. Oh lady, what a night!<br> + I tremble still!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> The +night indeed was wild.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Ay, like the sea the +gale whips up. The wind<br> + Swept all the covers from my bed and left<br> + Me cold and trembling. Branches beat the wall<br> + Above my head like demons of the storm.<br> + The owls kept screaming in the groaning eaves<br> + And whispered like lost souls in agony!<br> + Hark! Hear him roar! Oh God, it's Husdent!<br> + Oh listen to him roar. I never heard<br> + A hound thus howl before!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Peace, child. He cries<br> + Thus every night since he has lost his lord.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> What? Every night and +yet King Mark can sleep?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> King Mark can sleep as +all good knights can sleep<br> + At any time and any where, while we,<br> + Poor souls, must like a beggar sue for sleep<br> + As for an alms.</p> + <p class="right">(To <span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. )<span style="letter-spacing:20px"> + </span><br> + The mirror and the cloak.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Pray tell me, Queen +Iseult, why came we here<br> + With good King Mark and left Tintagel's halls?<br> + Why journeyed we to St. Lubin? The place<br> + Is gloomy and an awful wood grows round<br> + The castle walls. Oh 'tis an awful wood.<br> + I am afraid, Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> <span style="letter-spacing:50px"> </span> +Yea, boy, the wood<br> + Is black and gloomy here. Give me some oil,<br> + Brangaene, for my lips are parched and dried<br> + From weeping all this never-ending night.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (goes to the casement).<br> + Above Tintagel, lo, the sky was blue;<br> + The sun shone on a foreign ship that came<br> + Across the seas and lay at anchor there<br> + And made it look like gold. The ship came in<br> + As we rode through the gate. I wish that I<br> + Were at Tintagel once again and saw<br> + That ship. For here black clouds obscure the sun<br> + And hang close to the ground; they fly along<br> + Like mighty ghosts. The earth smells damp and makes<br> + Me shiver—Ugh—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (steps to the casement beside +him and puts her arm about his neck).<br> Nay, not today, for see,<br> + The sun will shine and pour its golden rays<br> + E'en o'er the Morois.</p> + <p class="hang5">[She leans out until her head is overflowed<br> + by the sunlight.]</p> + <p class="right">Oh, it's very hot!<span style="letter-spacing:10px"> + </span></p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (falling on his knees).<br> + Oh Queen Iseult pray take the fairy dog<br> + Into thy hands and it will comfort thee—<br> + That wondrous brachet, Tristram's latest gift.<br> + For, lo, since from Tintagel we have come<br> + My heart is troubled by a wish to ask<br> + Of thee a question, for Brangaene says<br> + That when thou think'st of certain things thou weep'st<br> + But I have never felt the like.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br><span style="letter-spacing:90px"> + </span> Poor boy!<br> + I lay awake the whole night through and yet<br> + Not once did I take Petikru to me,<br> + So ask, my child! What wouldst thou know!<br> + Mine eyes<br> + Are dry, for all my tears are spent, and gone.<br> + [She has returned to the dressing table.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Is this the wood where +thou and Tristram dwelt,<br> + As people say, when ye had fled away?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> 'Tis true this wood once +sheltered us.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (at the casement). <span style="letter-spacing:70px"> + </span> This wood?<br> + This fearful wood? 'Twas here that thou, Iseult<br> + Of Ireland, Iseult the Goldenhaired,<br> + Took refuge with Lord Tristram like a beast<br> + Hard pressed by dogs and men? There hang, perhaps.<br> + Among the branches still some tattered shreds<br> + From robes thou wor'st; and blood still tints the roots<br> + Thou trod'st upon with bare and wounded feet!<br> + 'Twas here thou say'st? Within this wood?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (rising).<br> + Yes, child,<br> + And this the castle—</p> + <p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Brangaene</span> takes the cloak + from <span class="sc">Iseult's</span><br> + shoulders and helps her put on a loose<br> + flowing garment. <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> hair is hidden<br> + beneath a close-fitting cap.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (steps nearer, in great +surprise).<br> + Where ye fled from Mark's<br> + Abom'nable decree? The castle makes<br> + Me shudder and the wood that grows around.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (quoting the decree).<br> +this day on Lord Tristram dares<br> + To show himself within my realm—he dies,<br> + And with him dies Iseult of Ireland ..."</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (quoting).<br> + "And witness here my name signed with my blood—"</p> + <p class="hang5">[She goes to the table on the right and sets<br> + up the chess-men. <span class="sc">Paranis</span> sits on a + cushion<br> + at her feet. <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> clears the + dressing<br> + table.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Is it since that day +thou hast wept, my Queen?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Thou know'st my secret +boy and yet canst ask!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Inquire not too much, +Paranis, lest<br> + A deeper knowledge of such things consume<br> + Thy soul, and leave in place a cinder-pile.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> There's more they say, +yet I believe no more.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And what do people say, +Paranis?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +Why,<br> + They say Lord Tristram, since he fled away<br> + To save his life, and, ay, to save thine too.<br> + Forgot thee. Queen Iseult, and thy great love<br> + And wed another in a foreign land.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> They call her Isot of +the Fair White Hands. </p> + +<p class="right">[A pause.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> When I'm a man, and wear +my gilded spurs<br> + I'll love and serve thee with a truer love<br> + Than Tristram did.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> How old +art thou, my child?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> When I first came to +serve thee as a page<br> + Thirteen I was; that was a year ago.<br> + I'm fourteen now, but when I dream, I dream<br> + That I am older and I love thee then<br> + In knightly fashion, and my sword is dull'd<br> + And scarred by blows that it has struck for thee.<br> + My heart beats high when I behold thy face;<br> + My cheek burns hot or freezes ashen pale.<br> + And then, at other times, I dream that I<br> + Have died for thee, only to wake and weep<br> + That I am still a child!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Listen to me,<br> + Paranis. Once, wandering, a gleeman came<br> + Two years agone and sang a lay in Mark's<br> + High hall; but, see! I said not it applied<br> + To us, this song of his. A song it was<br> + And nothing more. This lay told of a queen,<br> + A certain queen whose page once loved her much,<br> + With all the courtesy of Knighthood's laws;<br> + Whose every glance was for his lady's face;<br> + Whose cheeks alternately went hot and cold<br> + When she was near. But when the King perceived<br> + His changing color and his burning looks,<br> + He slew the boy, and, tearing out his heart,<br> + Now red, now pale, he roasted it, and served<br> + It to his queen and told her 'twas a bird<br> + His favorite hawk had slain that day.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +Tell me,<br> + I pray, my lady, when a Knight has won<br> + His spurs may he write songs?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Ay, that he may.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> Since that is so, I'd +rather sing than fight.<br> + I'll go from court to court and sing in each<br> + How Tristram was untrue to Queen Iseult!<br> + I will avenge thy wrongs in songs instead<br> + Of with the sword, and every one who hears<br> + My words shall weep as thou, my queen, has wept.<br> + I like the lay about that page's heart<br> + Thou toldst me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Remember it, my child;<br> + Brangaene knows the melody thereof.<br> + And she shall teach it thee that thou mayst learn<br> + The lay.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (at the window).<br> + The King's awake; I hear him call<br> + His hounds.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Then go, +Paranis, bear to him<br> + My morning and my wifely greeting; say<br> + I rested well this night; that thou hast left<br> + Me overjoyed and happy that the day<br> + Is fair. Now haste thee, boy, for soon<br> + The Gaelic barons through the gates shall ride<br> + Coming to pay their homage to King Mark,<br> + Delay not, child, and if the King shall grant<br> + Thee spurs, with mine own hands I'll choose thee out<br> + The finest pair, and deep my name shall stand<br> + Engravèd in the gold. Go greet the King.</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Paranis</span> kisses the hem of her robe and<br> + goes.]</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Lord Tristram has kept +true unto my name<br> + At least—if not to me! 'Tis now the tenth<br> + Year that I mourn for him! In countless nights<br> + Of endless agony have I repaid<br> + Those other nights of happiness and bliss.<br> + Through age-long days now beggared of their joy<br> + I have atoned for all the smiles of yore.<br> + Unkindly have ye dealt with me, sweet friend!<br> + Disloyal Tristram! God shall punish thee.<br> + Not I.<br> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Brangaene</span> kneels weeping beside her +and<br> + buries her face in <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> robes. <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span><br> + raises her up.]</p> + +<p class="hang4"> And thou, dear one, sweet sister, come!<br> + My sorrow's past enduring! Help me, help!<br> + At Lubin here the very walls have tongues;<br> + At Lubin here the sombre forest moans;<br> + At Lubin here old Husdent whimpers day<br> + And night unceasingly. 'Twas at Lubin<br> + I parted from him last, my dearest friend,<br> + And to his parting vows I answered thus:<br> + "Take, friend, this golden ring with em'rald stone,<br> + And if in thy name one shall bring it me,<br> + No dungeon walls, no castle gates, no bolts<br> + Shall keep me far from thee." And he: "I thank<br> + Thee, dearest lady, and I swear that if,<br> + At any time, in any place, one calls<br> + On me by thy sweet name I'll stand and wait<br> + And answer in thy name by day or night."<br> + And then—and then—he rode away!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +Iseult!<br> + Iseult, my dearest, might I die, for I,<br> + Wretch that I am, am most at fault,<br> + Too ready for deceits and secret ways!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Because I love a life, +and better still<br> + A death, that's great from savage unrestraint,<br> + Such as I found in mighty Tristram's love,<br> + 'Tis not thy fault. And formerly when thou<br> + Didst lend me thine own maiden smock to wear<br> + Upon my bridal night with Mark, since mine<br> + Was torn when I set foot on Cornish ground,<br> + Thou didst fulfill what, as my guardian friend,<br> + Thou hadst foreseen in earlier days. Weep not<br> + Because I weep; Lord Tristram's treachery<br> + Is his, not ours. For this it is I weep.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Thou shouldst not say, +he is not faithful still.<br> + Dear sister. What know we of him or his?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> That he has married!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Ay, +her name's Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> My name! I shudder when +I think thereon.<br> + And lo, his perjured tongue rots not, nor cleaves<br> + Unto his teeth, nor does the name he calls<br> + Her by choke in his throat and strangle him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Mark me, Iseult, I had +not meant to speak,<br> + But now I must: a servant of King Mark's<br> + Spoke lately of that ship we saw sail in<br> + And then cast anchor 'neath Tintagel's walls.<br> + A merchant ship it is, he said, and hails<br> + Direct from Arundland. Now send<br> + And bid these merchants leave their ship and come,<br> + That they may tell what they have seen or heard<br> + Of Tristram and his fate.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (runs in and leaps upon the +window-sill).<br> + Oh Queen, there come<br> + Three Gaelic earls! Dinas of Lidan first.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (hastening to his side).<br> + Come then, Iseult, and from the casement here<br> + Behold the faithful Dinas, Tristram's friend!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> + The one in coat of mail who rides behind<br> + Who is the man, Brangaene, canst thou see?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> + Oh God! Denovalin, ill-omened bird<br> + Of grim Tintagel.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Arund? +Didst thou say<br> + A merchant ship sailed in from Arundland?<br> + That great gold sail, Brangaene, came across<br> + The ocean to Tintagel? What? A ship,<br> + And merchant men from Arund? Speak, friend, speak!<br> + Thou talk'st of Arund, and remain'st unmoved!<br> + Brangaene, cruel, speak and say the men<br> + Are on their way to me, or are now here!<br> + Torture me not!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Nay, +hear me speak, Iseult;<br> + I said a servant of King Mark's said this;<br> + I know not whether it be true; to know<br> + We must be back within Tintagel's walls.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in rising agitation).<br> + Wait till we're back within Tintagel's walls?<br> + Not see the merchants till we are gone back,<br> + And linger thus for three whole days, say'st thou?<br> + Nay, nay, Brangaene, nay I will not wait.<br> + 'Twas not for this ten never-ending years<br> + I sat upon Tintagel's tower and watched<br> + With anxious eyes the many ships sail o'er<br> + The green expanse from sky to sky. 'Twas not<br> + For this; that day by day Paranis went,<br> + At my behest, down to the port, while I<br> + Sat counting every minute, one by one,<br> + Until he should return, and tell me tales<br> + Of ships and lands indifferent as a fly's<br> + Short life to me!—And now thou tellest me<br> + A ship is here; a great gold sail lies moor'd<br> + Hard by Tintagel's walls, a ship in which<br> + Men live, and speak, and say when asked:<br> + "Where come ye from!" "From Arundland we sail."<br> + Go quick, Brangaene; to Tintagel send, I pray,<br> + At once some swift and faithful messenger,<br> + And bid him with all haste lead here to me<br> + These merchants over night. I need both silks<br> + And laces, samite and the snowy fur<br> + Of ermines, and whatever else they have.<br> + All that they have I'll gladly buy! Let them<br> + But ride with speed!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Ay, +ride as peddlers do!<br> + Yet will I send Gawain, since 'tis thy wish,<br> + And with him yet another.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +Queen Iseult,<br> + May I go with Gawain? I'll make them ride,<br> + These merchant-men! I'll stick my dagger twixt<br> + Their shoulder blades and prick them 'till from fear<br> + They fairly fly to thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Nay, rather, child,<br> + Stay here with me; but help Brangaene find Gawain.<br> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Brangaene</span> and <span class="sc">Paranis</span> +open the door at<br> + the back of the stage but stand back on<br> + either side to permit <span class="sc">Mark</span> and the three<br> + Barons to enter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> The King!</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE IV</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> and <span class="sc">Paranis</span> +go. <span class="sc">Mark</span> and the barons remain standing at some distance +from <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <span class="sc">Denovalin</span> remains +in the background and during this and the following scene stands almost +motionless in the same spot.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> There +stands Iseult, my queen,<br> + All glorious as the summer day that shines<br> + O'er all the world! Now welcome, my Iseult!<br> + Now welcome to Lubin! These gallant lords<br> + Are come to greet thee—Dinas, Ganelun,<br> + Denovalin.—They have not seen thee now<br> + For many months. And ye, my noble lords.<br> + Is she not blonder than of yore?<br> +<p class="hang5">[He glances at a locket that hangs about his neck.]<br> + For see!<br> + This lock of hair Lord Tristram brought me once.<br> + Behold it now, 'tis almost black next hers.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I greet thee, Dinas, +Lord of Lidan, friend,<br> + Most loyal friend:—and thou. Lord Ganelun,<br> + Most heartily, for many days have pass'd<br> + Since last we met.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> + Ay, many days, Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Hast thou forgot +Tintagel's King and Queen?<br> + 'Twas not so once.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> + I've been at Arthur's court<br> + Nigh on two years, and there have taken part<br> + In many deeds of high renown. 'Tis this<br> + Has kept me from Tintagel and from home.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> And I, fair Queen +Iseult, am growing old;<br> + I've left the saddle for the pillow's ease.</p> + <p class="center">(Pointedly.)</p> + <p class="hang4">I see the chess-board stands prepared and so,<br> + If Mark permits, 'tis I who in his place<br> + Will lead the crimson pawns today, as we<br> + Were wont to do in former days. I love<br> + The game but have no friend with whom to play.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Ay, Dinas, good it is to +have some one<br> + Who loves us near us in our twilight years;<br> + So play today with Goldenhaired Iseult.<br> + Perchance it may amuse her too, for oft<br> + She seemeth sad, and mourns as women do<br> + Who have no children.—God forgive us both!<br> + But come, my lords, first let us drink a pledge<br> + Of greeting, and permit this man to make<br> + His peace with my fair queen. I hate long feuds.<br> + Come, friends, come, let us drink, for all this day<br> + We'll spend together in good fellowship.<br> +<p class="hang5">[He leaves the room with <span class="sc">Dinas</span> and <span class="sc"> +Ganelun</span><br> + by the door on the right. <span class="sc">Iseult</span> and<br> + <span class="sc">Denovalin</span> stand opposite each other, some<br> + distance apart, silent and motionless.]</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE V</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (calmly and insinuatingly).<br> + Am I a vulture, Queen Iseult, that thou<br> + Art silent when I am within thy cage?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily).<br> + My Lord Denovalin, how dar'st thou show<br> + Thyself thus brazenly before me here?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>Harsh words the Queen +Iseult is pleased to use!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And I shall beg the King +that he forbid<br> + Thee to appear within a mile around<br> + The castle with thy visor raised.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> +King Mark<br> + Is not my over-lord. I'm not his liege.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And I tell thee, my Lord +Denovalin,<br> + Thy face is more abhorred by me than plague;<br> + More hateful than dread leprosy! Away!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>More measured should'st +thou be in thy reproof.</p> +<p class="center">(Much moved.)</p> +<p class="hang4">It was for thee I came today, harsh Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (passionately).<br> + When last thou stoodst before my face, my Lord,<br> + Naked I was, and men at arms prepar'd<br> + The glowing pyre whereon thy jealousy<br> + Had doomed my youthful body to be burned!<br> + Calm wast thou then; no quiver moved thy face,<br> + Untroubled by thy deed. Dost thou forget?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>And Tristram stood beside +thee then, as he<br> + Had stood, when I accused thee to King Mark,<br> + And when I see him standing next to thee,<br> + My eyes grow dim and all the world seems red<br> + With blood. 'Twas him I saw, not thee, Iseult,<br> + Else had I died of sorrow and of shame.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> What, <i>thou</i>? <i> +Thou</i> grieve! <i>Thou</i> die of shame? The stones<br> + Shall soften and shall melt ere thou, my lord,<br> + Hast learned what pity means!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> +Thou dost misjudge<br> + Me, Queen Iseult, for when thy foot first touched<br> + The Cornish strand as thou stepped'st from thy ship<br> + And came to be the bride of Mark, I saw<br> + Thee then, and by the Lord, a solemn oath<br> + Of loyalty upon thy golden hair<br> + To thee I swore! Oh thou wast wondrous fair!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And I, my Lord, what +evil did I thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>Thou loved'st Tristram.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +What? Denovalin,<br> + When, by a miracle of God, I have<br> + Escaped the fiery death which thou prepared'st;<br> + When, with these tender hands of mine, I bore<br> + Before my judges, and without a burn<br> + The glowing iron, and with sacred oath<br> + Have sworn, thou darest doubt Almighty God's<br> + Decree, and dar'st accuse me still, and say<br> + I love Lord Tristram with a guilty love?<br> + This nephew of my wedded spouse! Of this<br> + I'll make complaint unto my sponsors, Lord!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (calmly).<br> + Almighty God thou hast, perhaps, deceived,<br> + But we, at least, Iseult, we must be frank,<br> + Though enemies, and deal straightforwardly<br> + With one another.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Go, +thou were-wolf!—Go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>There was a time when I, +too, heard the song<br> + Of birds in spring-time; but the fragrant breath<br> + Thy golden hair exhales,—that hair which I<br> + Have seen flow rippling through Lord Tristram's hands—<br> + Has made me hard and rough—a very beast!<br> + I live pent up within my castle walls<br> + As some old wolf! I sleep all day and ride<br> + At night! Ay, ride until my steed comes home<br> + With gasping nostril and with bloody flank,<br> + And lies as dead when morning comes! My hounds<br> + Fall dead along the road! And yet, may be,<br> + That long before the earliest cock has crowed<br> + I cry aloud upon thy name each day<br> + Like one who swelters in his own life's blood!<br> + Remember this, for hadst thou once, Iseult,<br> + Beside me ridden ere the night grew dark,<br> + Perchance this hatred of all living things<br> + Had never got such hold upon my soul.<br> + Remember this, throughout the many things<br> + Which shall, ere evening, come to pass.<br> + And evening comes to thee, Iseult,—to me,<br> + To all! And so 'tis best thou understand<br> + The secret of the past fairly to judge.<br> + This is the peace I fain would have with thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I am afraid—afraid—of +thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> +Thou shouldst<br> + Not fear, Iseult, these words so seemingly<br> + Devoid of sense!</p> + <p class="center">(Changing the subject.)</p> + + <p class="hang4">At dawn today I rode<br> + Along the Morois.</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Ay, since that's the +road<br> + That leads the straightest from thy lofty hall<br> + To St. Lubin.—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> I met a +quarry there!<br> + A quarry wondrous strange! Shall I, Iseult,<br> + Go bring it bound to thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in great anxiety).<br> +I wish no fur,<br> + Or pelts slain by thy hand, Denovalin—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> That I believe, Iseult, +yet it might please<br> + King Mark.</p> +<p class="center">(Breaking out passionately.)</p> + <p class="hang4">It might be that once more<br> + Thou felt'st the burning touch of death, all hot<br> + And red. And if no safe retreat there were<br> + For thee in Cornwall, save my castle walls,<br> + And not a man in Cornwall stood to shield<br> + Thy golden tresses from the hangman's hand<br> + Except myself! If such the case what wouldst<br> + Thou do if I said "come?"</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (wild with terror and despair).<br> + If such the case,<br> + Oh God of Bethlehem! If such the case<br> + I'd fling my arms about the neck of Death,<br> + And, clinging close to him, I'd spit at thee,<br> + Denovalin! Those wrinkles, cold and hard,<br> + About thy mouth on either side disgust<br> + Me! Go, Denovalin! I loath thee! Go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>I go, Iseult, for thou +hast made thy choice;<br> + Forget it not. Forget not, too, the pact<br> + Of peace my soul has made with thine. Farewell!<br> + I'll go and bid Lord Dinas come to play<br> + At chess with thee. Play quickly, Queen Iseult,<br> + Thy time is short, and short shall be thy game!</p> +<p class="right">[He goes.]</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VI</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Oh God, how bitter are +his words! They cut<br> + Like sharpen'd swords and burn like hissing flames!<br> + What is his will? His speech, though witless, ay,<br> + And senseless too, insults and threatens me.—<br> + It warns me too—of what?—Oh God, I quake!<br> + If but Brangaene came, or Dinas came!<br> + They come not and this creeping fear—how hard<br> + It grips my soul!—More Gaelic barons come—!<br> + How often have I stood concealed here<br> + And seen him come proud riding through the gate!<br> + My friend that comes no more! How grand he was!<br> + His lofty stature did o'ertop them all!<br> + How nobly trod his steed!—Dear Tristram, friend.<br> + Does thy new Isot's heart beat quick as mine<br> + At but the thought of thy dear step?</p> +<p class="center">(Kneels down in front of the little shrine.)</p> +<p class="hang4"> And thou,<br> + Oh little brachet, thinks thy lord of me,<br> + As I of him!—"For they who drink thereof<br> + Together so shall love with every sense<br> + Alive, yet senseless—with their every thought<br> + Yet thoughtless too, in life, in death, for aye—.<br> + Yet he, who once has known the wond'rous bliss<br> + Of that intoxicating cup of love,<br> + Spits out the draught disloyally, shall be<br> + A homeless and a friendless worm—a weed<br> + That grows beside the road." Oh Tristram, Lord.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> enters. <span class="sc">Iseult</span> +rushes toward him.</p> + +<p class="hang4">Dinas of Lidan! Dearest friend, most true!<br> + With what has this man threatened me? Of what,<br> + Then, warned?—friend, speak, for round me whirls the world;<br> + My brain is dizzy with each thought!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +My Lord<br> + Denovalin has bid me come to thee<br> + To play at chess. He said thou wast in haste.<br> + And has he, as Mark ordered him, made peace<br> + With thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Made +peace with me! I told<br> + Thee, Dinas, that he has stirred up the past<br> + With gloomy words and threatened me. He spoke<br> + Forebodingly of coming days—; I fear<br> + His words and know not what is brewing o'er<br> + My head!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Denovalin +has threatened thee!<br> + That bodes no good!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> What think'st thou, +Dinas? Speak!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> It makes me almost fear +that I was not<br> + Deceived this morn as through the mist I rode.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Oh Dinas!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> For I saw a +man who rode<br> + As secretly, and stole along the way<br> + Concealèd in the murky mists of dawn.<br> + I—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Dinas!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Tristram's +in the land, Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Oh Dinas, speak! +(Softly.) My friend. Lord<br> + Tristram came<br> + At dawn today—? The man who loved me so!<br> + My dearest Lord—! Oh Dinas, Dinas, didst</p> +<p class="center">(recovering herself)</p> +<p class="hang4">Thou speak to him?</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> (sternly).<br> Twice +called I him. He fled.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Oh, why didst thou not +call him in my name?<br> + He would have stood thee answer then, for that<br> + He swore to me he'd do, by day or night<br> + At any place....</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br>I called him in thy name,<br> + And yet he fled away.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> He +fled from thee?</p> +<p class="center"> (Angrily.)</p> +<p class="hang4">It was not Tristram then! How dar'st thou speak<br> + Such slander 'gainst my Lord!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +I swore that I<br> + Would be thy friend, and for thy sake, Iseult,<br> + His friend. But now I say Lord Tristram broke<br> + The oath he swore to thee, and on this day<br> + Hath wronged thee grievously, Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (heavily and brokenly).<br> The +spouse<br> + Of Isot of the Fair White Hands appeared<br> + To thee, say'st thou, and broke his parting oath.<br> + The last he swore to Iseult Goldenhaired?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (enters in ill-suppressed +excitement).<br> + Lord Dinas, from King Mark I come. He bids<br> + Thee come to him straightway with all despatch,<br> + For in the name of justice calls he thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br>Oh Dinas, Dinas, Tristram +broke his oath—!<br> + Lord Tristram broke his oath—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +And dost thou know,<br> + My queen, that we must now attempt to ward<br> + The consequences of King Mark's decree<br> + And its fulfilment from thy head?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily).<br> How can<br> + An alien woman's spouse affect my life?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> I go to stem with all +the strength I have<br> + This current of perdition. Fare thee well.</p> +<p class="hang5">[As <span class="sc">Dinas</span> goes out, three armed guards<br> + step into the room and stand on either<br> + side of the door.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And fare thee well, thou +truest of the true!</p> + <p class="center">(To the guards.)</p> + <p class="hang4">And ye, what seek ye here?</p> +<p class="hang3">GUARD.<br> King Mark has bid<br> + Us guard thy door; thou may'st not go abroad<br> + Till Mark has bid thee come.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (falls on his knees).<br> + Gawain lies bound;<br> + Brangaene's cast into a prison cell,<br> + And something awful's taking place within<br> + The castle walls!—I know not what it is!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Paranis, child, be +still.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h2>ACT II</h2> + + +<p class="hang1">The High Hall of St. Lubin Castle.—Bay windows. On the right, +in the background is a wide double-door. On the left, in the background, and +diagonally to it stands a long table surrounded by high-back chairs. The chairs +at either end of the table are higher than the others and are decorated with the +royal arms. Against the wall on the left stands a throne.</p> +<p class="hang1">Four Gaelic barons stand, or sit about the table. <span class="sc"> +Lord Ganelun</span> enters.</p> + + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Baron</span>. <br> And canst thou tell us +now. Lord Ganelun,<br> + What's taking place that we are summoned here<br> + In council while our legs are scarcely dry<br> + From our long ride?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> A +welcome such as this<br> + I like not, Lords!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> I +know no more than ye,<br> + My lords, who are but lately come.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> +And where<br> + Is Mark, the King?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Instead of greeting us<br> + He sends a low born knave, and bids us wait<br> + Within these dry and barren walls.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span> (stands up).<br> + By God,<br> + I feel a wish to mount my horse and ride<br> + Away!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span> (entering).<br> + Do ye, my Lords, know why King Mark<br> + Lets Tristram's savage hound, old Husdent live?<br> + It needed but a little that it caused<br> + My death!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Baron</span>. <br> Just now?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br> As +I rode by its cage<br> + It leap'd against the bars, and made them shake<br> + With such a noise that my affrighted horse<br> + Uprear'd, and headlong sprang across the court.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> The hound is wolflike; +none can go within<br> + His cage. Three keepers has he torn to death.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br>A wild and dang'rous +beast! I would not keep<br> + The brute within my castle walls.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span> (walks irritatedly to the +window).<br> How this<br> + Long waiting irks my soul, good friends!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> +So cold<br> + A welcome have I never yet received,<br> + And new the custom is!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Have patience, sirs,<br> + It seems King Mark and Lord Denovalin<br> + Discuss in secret weighty things—<p class="hang3"><span class="sc"> +3rd Baron</span>. <br> —And wish<br> + To teach us how to wait!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Nay, +here's King Mark!</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_420" href="#pixRef_420"><img src="images/pg420.png" alt="Ernst_Hardt"></a></p> +<p class="center">ERNST HARDT</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Mark</span> and <span class="sc">Denovalin</span> +enter; behind them comes a man-at-arms who closes the door and stands against +the wall beside it. <span class="sc">Mark</span> holds a parchment in his hand, +and, without noticing the barons, walks agitatedly to the front of the stage. <span class="sc"> +Denovalin</span> goes behind the table and places himself between it and the +throne. The barons rise.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>Does Mark no longer know +us that he greets<br> + Us not?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> + And dost thou know, my Lord—?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (turning angrily upon the baron).<br> + Am I<br> + A weak old man because my hair is gray,<br> + Because my hands are wrinkled, ay, and hard,<br> + Because at times my armor chafes my back?<br> + Am I an old and sapless log? A man<br> + Used up who shall forever keep his peace?</p> + <p class="hang4">(Controlling himself.)</p> + <p class="hang4">I crave your pardon, Lords, pray take your seats.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Thou badst me come to +thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Yes, Dinas, yes,<br> + So take thy place.</p> + <p class="hang5">(He controls his emotion with great difficulty<br> + and speaks heavily.)<br> + And ye, my noble friends,<br> + Give ear. A great and careful reckoning shall<br> + Take place 'twixt you and me. Your sanctioning word<br> + I wish, for what I am about to do,<br> + For yonder man has, with an evil lance,<br> + Attacked me and he has so lifted me<br> + Out of my saddle that my head doth swim,<br> + And trembles from the shock, and so I pray<br> + You to forgive the churlish greeting ye<br> + Received; 'twas accident, not scorn. I bid<br> + You welcome, one and all, most heartily.</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> + We greet thee, Mark.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> But tell +us now what thing<br> + So overclouds thy mind; thy welfare dwells<br> + Close intertwined with ours.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (unfolding the parchment).<br> + And now, my Lords,<br> + Are any of the witnesses not here<br> + Who signed the contract and decree which Mark<br> + Drew up with Tristram and with Queen Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>'Tis then of this decree +that thou wouldst speak?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> + I signed.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Baron</span>. <br> + And I.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br> And +I.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Three witnesses<br> + There were, and ye are three. 'Tis good, my Lords,<br> + That we are all assembled here.</p> +<p class="hang5">[He speaks brokenly and with all the marks<br> + of mental suffering and suppressed emotion.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Ye know<br> + How long I lived alone within these + walls<br> + With my good nephew Tristram and not + once<br> + Did any woman cross my threshold + o'er.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br>And 'twas through us that +things were changed; we cried<br> + Upon thee for a son and heir.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Iseult<br> + Then came from Ireland to be thy Queen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (coldly, firmly, and in a +loud voice).<br> + Nobly escorted, in Lord Tristram's care!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (softly).<br> + I wooed Iseult, and much it pleased me then<br> + To call this sweet and noble lady mine,<br> + And so to honor her. But see, it was<br> + But for a single day, then came this man</p> + <p class="center">(Points to <span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. )</p> + <p class="hang4">And spake to me and said: "Thy wife Iseult<br> + And Tristram whisper in the dark!" And since<br> + The speaking of that evil word, this world<br> + Has turned to hell, and through my veins my blood<br> + Has run like seething fire for her sake,<br> + Who was my wife, and cried for her as though<br> + She were not mine!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> But +thou didst not believe<br> + These evil words?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> No, +never in my life<br> + Did I fight off a foeman from myself<br> + More fiercely than these words.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (sternly).<br> + But soon this man<br> + Came back and said: "The hands of Queen Iseult<br> + And Tristram's hands are locked when it is dark."</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> And then I slunk about +them like a wretch,<br> + My lords; I spied upon their lips, their hands,<br> + Their eyes! I watched them like a murderer;<br> + I listened underneath their window-sills<br> + At night to catch their dreaming words, until<br> + I scorned myself for this wild wretchedness!<br> + Nothing, nothing I found, and yet Iseult<br> + From that time on was dearer than my God<br> + And his Salvation!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Yet +thou ever held'st<br> + Iseult in honor and esteem!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Ay, that I did,<br> + Friend Ganelun, but soon that man there came<br> + And whispered in mine ear: "Art thou stone blind?<br> + Thy nephew Tristram and thy Queen Iseult<br> + Are sleeping in each other's arms by day<br> + And night!" Oh God! Oh God! My Lords, I set<br> + To work—and thought I'd caught the pair!—Poor fool!</p> +<p class="center"> (He hides his face.)</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> 'Tis so; and thou badst +build a mighty pyre<br> + Of seasoned wood and well dried peat. But God<br> + Almighty blew the fire out. They fled,<br> + The twain together, to the Morois land.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span>. <br> And then one night I +stole upon them both.<br> + (Lord Dinas knew of this alone, my Lords.)<br> + Iseult was sleeping, and Lord Tristram slept<br> + An arm's length scarce before me in the moss<br> + All pale and wan, and breathed so heavily,<br> + So wearily, like some hard hunted beasts.</p> + <p class="center">(Groaning.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Oh God, how easy was it then!—See what<br> + Befell! There, 'twixt their bodies lay a sword,<br> + All naked, ay, and sharp—<br> + 'Twas Morholl's sword!<br> + —Then silently I took it, and I left<br> + Mine own, and, like a fool, I wept at their<br> + Great purity!</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> Was +Tristram so much moved<br> + By this exchange of swords that he gave back<br> + Thy wife Iseult?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (violently).<br> + And, God! I took her! See<br> + His cunning counsel circumvented then<br> + The red hot steel and made her innocence<br> + Seem more apparent, and her hands shone white,<br> + Unburned, and all unscarred like ivory<br> + After the test! My nephew Tristram fled,<br> + Exiled, and the decree that ye all know<br> + Was sealed. So harken now, ye witnesses<br> + Of the decree: if Tristram were to break<br> + The bond and secretly, and in disguise<br> + Return to Cornwall—</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> +God forbid!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Baron</span>. <br> +Yet if<br> + Lord Tristram should do this and break the bond,<br> + And thus endanger both his life and Queen Iseult's—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br> If such the +case they lied to thee,<br> + King Mark, and unto God!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +They lied! They lied!<br> + Ay, man, they lied to me and unto God!<br> + And now I need no longer feel my way<br> + Nor tap about me in the dark, nor bump<br> + My soul against my blindness! Ay, they lied!<br> + My bed was foul; my life a jest for knaves,<br> + For they had lied. But then, behold, that man<br> + There came,—Denovalin I hate thee!—came<br> + And said Lord Tristram broke the bond—</p> +<p class="right">[The Barons spring up.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> +How so?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br>What knows he?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> + Speak, Denovalin!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Thou say'st<br> + Lord Tristram broke the bond that holds his life?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br>I'll not believe it!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Baron</span>. <br> + Tristram wed, ye know,<br> + The daughter of King Kark of Arundland.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> + Denovalin must bring us proofs!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Gently,<br> + My Lords. Before the high tribunal shall<br> + He speak. Go, call the Queen.</p> +<p class="right">[The man-at-arms goes.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +King Mark,<br> + Why dost thou hasten to believe this tale?<br> + Remember, 'tis Denovalin who speaks.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> 'Tis not a matter of +belief, my friend,<br> + I wish to know if for her sake he came;<br> + To see her once again—no more. The rest<br> + I know, and I know, too, the end of this;<br> + This game that's played about my life, my blood.<br> + Mine honor!</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang1">The guardsman announces the queen who enters the hall followed +by +<span class="sc">Paranis</span>. She remains in the background. The barons rise +as she appears.</p> +<br> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Guardsman</span>. <br> Place! Iseult the +queen comes! Place!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (quietly and gently).<br> + Ye called me, sirs; now speak, for I am here.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (takes an angry step toward her, +checks himself, and stares at her a moment. He speaks slowly and without +moving).<br> + Lord Dinas, bid Iseult of Ireland draw near!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span>, without waiting for <span class="sc"> +Dinas</span>, steps<br> + to the middle of the hall. <span class="sc">Mark</span> does not<br> + move and speaks louder.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Lord Dinas, bid Iseult of Ireland draw near!<br> + And sit there by the board—there at the head<br> + And facing me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> And may I ask thee now<br> + What this extraordinary custom is,<br> + That twice thou dost repeat it, Mark? In mine<br> + Own land of Ireland I never saw<br> + A man thus treat his wife. So, if it suits<br> + Thy will,—I'll stand!</p> +<p class="hang5">[Neither <span class="sc">Mark</span> nor the barons move.<br> + Anxiously.]</p> + <p class="right">Will no one speak to me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> My Lords, sit down.</p> +<p class="hang5">[He walks in front of the table. <span class="sc">Paranis</span><br> + kneels beside <span class="sc">Iseult</span>, who lays her hand<br> + upon his head as on the head of a dog.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Thou call'dst +me, Mark, and bad'st<br> + Me come in terms full stern and harsh—I came,<br> + For 'tis my heartfelt duty to obey.<br> + Since thou art good to me and kind. Thou know'st<br> + This hall, these men, that stand around, awake<br> + Full many a painful memory in my heart,<br> + And so I crave a swift reply. What will<br> + Ye of me here?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (roughly).<br> Why +was Gawain sent forth<br> + In secret to Tintagel from Lubin?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> He went not secretly, +but openly,<br> + My Lord, and that because some merchant-men<br> + Came to Tintagel from across the seas<br> + With merchandise. I wished to bid them come<br> + To me that I might choose me from their stock the wares<br> + That pleased me and the many things I need.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (scornfully).<br> + The purchase must be made at once, I trow!<br> + Since here, more than elsewhere, thou need'st such things.<br> + 'Tis true that fifteen beasts of burden stayed<br> + Behind, all laden with thy things alone,<br> + Unnoticed by a well beside the road,<br> + Iseult, I recollect me now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Nay, Lord,<br> + Yet St. Lubin brings me full many a sad<br> + And weary hour. I, therefore, thought to gain<br> + Some slight diversion and amusement too<br> + To soothe my woe. Thou know'st the joy I have<br> + Of mingled masses of bright colored things<br> + Both strange and rare!</p> + <p class="center">(Anxiously.)</p> + <p class="hang4">The rustling silks; the gold—;<br> + Th' embroidery of robes; the jewel's flash;—<br> + Furs, chains and golden girdles, needles,<br> + clasps! To see, and in my hands to hold such things<br> + O'erjoys me much!—A childish whim, perhaps,<br> + But thou thyself this pleasure oft procured'st<br> + And sent the merchants to my bower. What<br> + Wonder is it then that I myself should think<br> + Of this same thing?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> 'Tis so, I +wronged thy thoughts,<br> + For I myself have often brought such men<br> + To thee. These peddlers and these mountebanks<br> + Are famous friends! I see it now! They come<br> + From far and wide; they travel much; they are<br> + Both wise and cunning—apt, indeed, to serve<br> + As messengers!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Ay, Mark, +thou didst me wrong.<br> + But greater to Brangaene and Gawain!<br> + I pray thee set them free; they but obeyed<br> + My will.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (angrily).<br> Bring forth the +pair, and set them free<br> + These go-betweens Brangaene and Gawain!</p> +<p class="right">[The soldier goes.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Tell now, my Lord Denovalin, thy tale,<br> + And speak thy words distinctly, ay, and loud!<br> + And ye, my Lords, I pray you, listen well;<br> + A pretty tale!</p> + +<p class="hang5">[He crouches on the steps of the throne,<br> + and stares at <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <span class="sc"> +Denovalin</span> steps<br> + forward from behind the table.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> I rode +today at dawn,<br> + And, coming through the Morois, saw, while yet<br> + The mist was hanging in the trees, around<br> + A curving of the road, a man who rode.<br> + Full proud and straight he sat upon his steed,<br> + But yet he seemed to wish that none should see<br> + Him there, for carefully did he avoid<br> + The clearer spots, and peering round about,<br> + He listened and he keenly watched, then turned<br> + Into a thicket when afar he heard<br> + The hoof-beats of my horse. I followed him,<br> + And soon I was as near as a man's voice<br> + Will carry. Loud and haughtily I called<br> + To him, but then he drove the spurs so deep<br> + Into his steed that, like a wounded stag,<br> + It sprang into the air and dashed away.<br> + I followed close behind, and bade the man<br> + In knightly and in manly honor stand.<br> + He heeded not my words and fled away,<br> + And then I cried aloud that he should stand,<br> + And called him by Iseult the Goldenhaired.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (passionately and firmly).<br> + And at my name Lord Tristram stood.</p> + <p class="center">(Anxiously.)</p> +<p class="hang4">Did he<br> + Not stand and wait?</p> + <p class="center">(Imploringly.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Oh, say that at that call<br> + Lord Tristram stood!</p> + <p class="center">(Passionately.)</p> + <p class="hang4">And I will bless thy lips.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (cries out in a muffled voice).<br> + Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I'll kiss thy +hand, my Lord, and I—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>Who says, proud Queen +Iseult, the man I saw<br> + Was Tristram, noble Lord of Lyonesse?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (her voice becomes proud and +cold).<br> + My Lord Denovalin, I'll kiss thy hands<br> + If thou wilt say my husband's nephew stood<br> + And bided you, for sorely would it vex<br> + My heart if such a knight should flee from such<br> + A man as thou! 'Twould shame me much, for know,<br> + My Lord Denovalin, I scorn and hate<br> + Thee as a cur!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (suppressing his emotion).<br> + If Tristram stood or fled<br> + From me, I do not say.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +That vexes me<br> + Indeed, for now, my Lords, I turn to you<br> + With deeper and more serious complaints<br> + Against Lord Tristram that so rashly he<br> + Has broken Mark's decree, thus forcing me<br> + To share a guilt of which my soul is clean!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (crouches on the steps of the +throne groaning).<br> + Oh see how well her Irish tongue can twist<br> + Her words to suit her will! Her words are smooth;<br> + So smooth that when one grasps them they escape<br> + The hand like shining, slippery, squirming snakes!<br> + And she has subtle words, caressing words,<br> + And words that set the mind on fire; hot words<br> + That burn, and haughty ones that swell and puff<br> + Like stallions' nostrils, and toss high their heads!<br> + Oh she has words, and words, and many words<br> + With which to frame her lies!</p> + <p class="center">(He takes a step toward <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. + Angrily.)</p> + <p class="hang4">And see her eyes!<br> + Those wondrous eyes! Eyes for deceit! She + has<br> + Deceived me with those eyes and lips of hers + since first<br> + She set her foot upon the Cornish shore!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (trembling with shame and +anger).<br> + Thy words are like the shame of women, Mark!<br> + Like filthy hands! Irish I am, but there,<br> + In word and deed, polite restraint prevails<br> + And courteous measuredness; there fiery wrath<br> + Becomes ne'er master of the man! And so<br> + I was not taught in early youth to guard<br> + Myself from drunkenness of wrath!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +O hark!<br> + That was a sample of her haughty words!<br> + Iseult the Goldenhaired of Ireland<br> + Didst thou with thine own hand and blood sign this?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Ay, Mark, I signed the +bond.</p> + <p class="center">(With closed eyes quoting.)</p> + <p class="hang4">"And if from this<br> + Day on Lord Tristram dares to show himself<br> + Within my realm, he dies, and with him dies<br> + Iseult of Ireland"—I signed my name<br> + And wrote it with my blood.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Denovalin<br> + Most solemnly has pledged his head and soul<br> + That he has seen my nephew Tristram, Lord<br> + Of Lyonesse within my realm, and so,<br> + If none stand forth to contradict, Iseult<br> + Of Ireland shall die.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> (stands up).<br> +Denovalin<br> + Has lied!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Dinas of +Lidan!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Well said, good<br> + Dinas!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> I, too, did meet a +man today<br> + At early dawn whom I first held to be<br> + Lord Tristram, nephew of King Mark.<br> + Since from the east I rode and thou, my Lord<br> + Denovalin, came through the Morois land<br> + From thy good castle in the west, and since<br> + Lubin stood as a central point between<br> + Us both, Lord Tristram must have been two-fold<br> + That in the east and in the west he crossed<br> + My path, and at the self-same hour, the road<br> + Of Lord Denovalin. This cannot be<br> + And so one of the men was not the true<br> + Lord Tristram; one of us was therefore wrong.<br> + And if 'twas one, then why not both<br> + My Lord Denovalin and I?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Dinas,<br> + Had I not known thee from thy youth I might<br> + Have held thee guilty with Iseult! Has she<br> + Ensnared thee too with perjured oaths and false<br> + And lying countenance, that thou dost seek<br> + To die for her so eagerly? Thy hair<br> + Is gray like mine. Thou dreamest, man,<br> + Denovalin has pledged his word that he<br> + Has seen Lord Tristram! Ponder well ere thou<br> + Take up his downflung glove.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Yet Dinas may<br> + Be right.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> I think so +too.</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">5th Baron</span>. <br> +There cannot be<br> + Two Tristrams in the Morois wood.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (springing up).<br> + My Lords,<br> + I've pledged my word! Take heed unto your tongues!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> It seems but right to me +that Queen Iseult<br> + Should not be put to death until the true<br> + Lord Tristram, quick or dead, be found.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Well said<br> + Lord Ganelun!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Baron</span>. <br> So think +we all. King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> By God! my Lords, it is +enough! ye sit<br> + Discussing here in calm indifference<br> + If I shall live or die, as though I were<br> + An animal! My race is nobly sprung;<br> + I will that ye bow down before my blood,<br> + Since ye do not bow down to womanhood!<br> + I will that ye permit me to return<br> + To my apartments and that ye do not<br> + Here keep me standing like a haltered beast!<br> + King Mark may let me know your will when ye<br> + Decide. And now I wish to go.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (in swelling anger).<br> +Oh hear her,<br> + My Lords, hear her, does she not make one wish.<br> + Groaning, to cast oneself before her feet;<br> + To kiss her very shoes when she can find<br> + Such noble sentiments and words! Behold<br> + Her there! Is she not fuller than the whole<br> + Wide world of smiles and tears. And when she laughed<br> + With that fair mouth, entrancing and all pale,<br> + Or silvery bright that God's whole world did dance<br> + And sing in God's own hand, 'twas not on me<br> + She smiled. And when upon her lowered lids<br> + There trembled tears like drops of pearly dew<br> + Upon a flower's brim, 'twas not for me<br> + She wept! A phantom hovered over us<br> + In all the sweet dark hours; 'twas for this ghost,<br> + The phantom likeness of Lord Tristram's self,<br> + She wept and smiled, true to her soul, though all<br> + The while her soulless body lay all cold<br> + Within mine arms deceiving me with smiles<br> + And tears! She shall not die till Tristram can<br> + Be found. Bethink you, Lords, the minutes that<br> + Ye grant that mouth to smile! The minutes that<br> + Ye grant those eyes to weep! Whom will it not<br> + Deceive,—her laughter and her tears! Both you,<br> + And me, and God! But I will change her smiles<br> + To tears; her weeping to the bitter laugh<br> + Of hideousness, that we at last may rest,<br> + And be secure from all her woman's wiles!<br> + And since she shall not die, then I will give her<br> + As a gift! This surely is my kingly right,<br> + For I am Mark, her lawful spouse and lord.<br> + Today at noon, when in the sun her hair<br> + Shall shine the brightest in the golden light<br> + Unto the leprous beggars of Lubin<br> + I'll give her as a gift!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Mark, art thou mad?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> The Queen! Oh help!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (recovering herself).<br> 'Tis +nought; I'm better now.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Thou speak'st a thing, in +sorrow and in wrath,<br> + A thing so terrible one fears to think<br> + Thereon!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> Bethink thee, +Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Thou ravest, King.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Baron</span>. <br> Thou dost a most foul +thing;—recall thy words!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (crouches on the steps of the +throne with his back to the barons).<br> + At mid-day shall the lepers of Lubin<br> + Collect, and wait within the court.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Farewell,<br> + King Mark, I'll stay with thee no more!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +I go<br> + With thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> And I.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> We leave +thee, one and all!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (turns his head, almost smiling).<br> + Will no one stay with me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (stepping forward).<br> +I will, King Mark.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (springing up).<br> + Oh, drive this man outside the walls, and bid<br> + Him ride with speed! I feel a great<br> + Desire to dip my hands in his foul blood<br> + After this awful marriage feast! And if<br> + A second time the Lord shall testify<br> + 'Gainst thee, Denovalin, then shalt thou die!<br> + I swear it! Thou shalt die!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (calmly).<br> + My castle walls<br> + Are high and strong, oh Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> What +loathsome brutes,<br> + What wretched beasts lust makes of men! Behold<br> + Thyself, Oh Mark, thou that art wise and kind;<br> + How deep consumed by lust! Thou wilt not let<br> + Me live, but dost thy best to shame. That which<br> + Thou lovest most, thou castest forth to be<br> + A prey to vultures, and thou think'st the while<br> + Thou hatest me! Oh Mark, how thou dost err<br> + In thinking that thou hatest me! Behold,<br> + I pity thee! And shall I now beseech,<br> + And wring my hands, humbling myself to thee?<br> + I do not know how women nobly born<br> + Can live on through the loathsome leper test,<br> + And will not think thereon, for 'tis enough<br> + To make a woman die, yet, once again,<br> + Before you all; before my God I swear,<br> + And will repeat my solemn oath, and then,<br> + When I have sworn it, He will send His help<br> + Or let my flesh be torn between the dogs<br> + And leprous human vultures of Lubin.<br> + I swear that I have never thrilled with love<br> + But for that man who elapsed me in his arms,<br> + A maiden still, as clean and pure as snow<br> + New-fallen on a winter's morn. This man,<br> + And this man only, have I loved with all<br> + The faith and passion of my womanhood.<br> + I gave myself to him with all my soul;<br> + My heart was full of dancing and of song;<br> + My love was wreathed in smiles as some May-morn<br> + Laughs softly on the mountain tops. This man<br> + I loved; no other have I loved, though he<br> + May grieve, and shame me, and deceive!—King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (almost screaming).<br> + Oh shield me, he that loves me, from her oaths!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span> (turns calmly to <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span>).<br> + Lead back the Queen into her chamber, page!</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT III</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<p class="hang1">The Inner Courtyard of the Castle.—In the foreground at the +left is the Castle gate. In the background on the right, at the top of a broad +flight of steps, under an arcade of columns, stands the door of the chapel. At +the left of the gate entering the courtyard are some buildings, behind which may +be seen the high castle walls surmounted by trees. The road from the Castle to +the church is laid with carpets. In the middle of the stage, on the right, +stands a stone well. In the background is a crowd of people held back by three +armed guards. At the foot of the steps, one on each side, stand two men-at-arms.</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> + Back, crowd not there! Stand back!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Guard</span>. <br> +The children may<br> + Stand in the front, but hold them. There crawls one!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Guard</span> (pushing the child back into +the crowd).<br> + My little friend, get back! Now see, I'll make<br> + A line upon the ground, and if thy toes,<br> + But by a hair's breadth, cross that line again,<br> + I'll drop my spear on them and they shall be<br> + As flat as any barley cake. [Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Girl</span>. <br> +Ha, Ha!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Girl</span>. <br> Hast thou become a +baker, oh Gilain!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Guard</span> (lifting his mailed hand).<br> + Ay, wench, would'st see me knead my dough?</p> + +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Boy</span>. <br> +Be still<br> + I hear the crier's voice from down below!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> He's wandered up and +down the streets since dawn<br> + And called until my blood runs cold!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Boy</span>. <br> +Hush.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Girl</span>. <br> +Hark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Voice of the Crier</span> (distant and +ringing).<br> + Today at noon, because King Mark has found<br> + Her faithless and untrue, shall Queen Iseult<br> + Be given to the lepers of Lubin,—<br> + A gift to take or leave. And, furthermore,<br> + Lord Tristram, who was once her paramour,<br> + Transgressed King Mark's decree by entering<br> + His realm. Whoever catches him and brings<br> + Him quick or dead unto the King shall have<br> + One hundred marks of gold for his reward.<br> + 'Tis good King Mark's decree that every one<br> + Should hear and know these things that I have cried.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Child</span>. <br> Oh, I'm afraid! Will he +come here, that man?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Girl</span>. <br> I know it all by heart, +and still he cries!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> Ay, let him cry!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Another Man</span>. <br> Lord +Tristram, he's a fox;<br> + To catch him they must have a good deep pit<br> + Or else he'll scratch them so that all their lives<br> + They'll think thereon.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> +Tristram's a noble lord,<br> + I'd shield him an I could.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Second Girl</span>. <br> +I want to see<br> + The Queen close by.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Third Girl</span>. <br> +Ay, so do I!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Fourth Girl</span>. <br> +I'll strew<br> + Some flowers in her path as she goes past.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Girl</span>. <br> My father made her once +a pair of shoes<br> + Of fine white satin, bound with golden clasps<br> + And crimson 'broidery. He says her feet<br> + Are delicate and small; as white and slim<br> + As are the Virgin Mary's in the shrine<br> + That stands within Tintagel's lofty church<br> + Above the great high altar.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Girl</span>. <br> +Poor, poor soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Woman</span>. <br> Ay, let her see where +those white feet of hers<br> + Have carried her!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Guard</span> (to a boy who has climbed upon +the wall).<br> + Hey, thou! Come down! The wall<br> + And rocks are full an hundred fathoms high,<br> + So, if thou fall, thy howling will not help.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Boy</span>. <br> I want to sit here when +the lepers come!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Another Boy</span>. <br> + A good place that! I'll climb up too.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Fourth Boy</span>. <br> +I too!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> Now none of you may stay +within the court<br> + To stare when Queen Iseult is given o'er<br> + Unto the lepers. Mark has granted this<br> + Unto the Queen since 'twas her only wish.<br> + Ye all must go into the church.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> +May none<br> + Then stay without and watch the lepers?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Another Man</span>. <br> +'s wounds!<br> + Why then I came for nothing, all this way!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Woman</span> (indignantly).<br> + Oh shame, thou beast, would'st gloat and make a show<br> + Of that which one scarce dares to think of? Fie!<br> + For such foul thoughts thou shouldst be thrown<br> + To Husdent to devour!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Guard</span>. <br> +Stop wrangling, there!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> Poor Queen! I pity her!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Second Girl</span>. <br> +King Mark's too harsh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> She's made a cuckold of +him, Girl!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Woman</span>. <br> +And now<br> + He's tossing her with those new horns of his!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Shepherd</span>. <br> + Is then the Queen Iseult so wondrous fair<br> + As she is said to be?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> +Hast thou not seen<br> + The Queen?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> No, never +yet!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> +He's never seen<br> + The Queen?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Boy</span>. <br> Behold, here's +one who never saw<br> + Our Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> Who is he?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> Speak, where +wast thou, friend,<br> + When Queen Iseult stood bound here to the stake?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> All naked in her +wondrous beauty—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Another Girl</span>. <br> +All<br> + For her great love.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Boy</span>. <br> We all +did see her then.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> I've come since then +from Toste in the hills.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Woman</span>. <br> Here, let this fellow +stand in front, that he<br> + May see the Queen's fair face before this swarm<br> + Of vultures has devoured it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +Come here;<br> + If thou hast never seen the Queen thou may'st<br> + Stand here beside the steps.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> +I thank thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Soldier</span> (drawing him beside him).<br> +Here!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> Here come the soldiers!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Child</span>. <br> +Lift me, father.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> +Hsh—!</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="hang1">Soldiers march past and enter the church. The church door stays +open.</p> +<br> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> I pray thee, Gilain, who +will lead the Queen?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> The hangman and King +Mark.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Girl</span>. <br> +Poor soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Woman</span>. <br> +Why weep'st<br> + Thou, girl?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Man</span> (as a crucifix is carried +past).<br> + Friends, cross yourselves. The crucifix!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span> (leans forward so that he can +see across the courtyard into the castle).<br> + Behold, she comes! My God, how beautiful—!<br> + An angel—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Soldier</span> (as <span class="sc"> +Gimella</span> passes).<br> + That, my friend, is but her maid<br> + Gimella.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Guard</span>. <br> Back! Stand back! +Thou shalt not push!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> Oh there! Behold, she is +a fairy! Yea,<br> + And she is fairer than Gimella far!<br> + I'll fall upon my knees when she goes past.<br> + She's wondrous fair, ay, fairer than a flower,<br> + A lily—See—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Soldier</span> (as <span class="sc"> +Brangaene</span> goes by).<br> + Stand up, thou knave, for that's<br> + Brangaene. She's our lady's faithful maid.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> She too was fair! Can +one imagine then,<br> + There's any one more beautiful than she?<br> + What wondrous women Mark has at his court!<br> + Such ladies have I never seen—There dwell<br> + None such in Toste! See—! This one—! Oh, God!<br> + Oh, God! The sun has fall'n—! Its blinding<br> + rays—! [Falls on his knees.]</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_440" href="#pixRef_440"><img src="images/pg440.png" alt="A_Daughter_of_the_People"></a></p> +<p class="center">A DAUGHTER OF THE PEOPLE</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Soldier</span> (softly).<br> + That was the Queen!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span> walks past between <span class="sc"> +Mark</span> and the<br> + hangman. She is draped in a purple cloak;<br> + her feet are bare. <span class="sc">Paranis</span> follows her.<br> + Part of the crowd kneels down.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span> (staring).<br> Oh, +Queen Iseult! Iseult<br> + The Goldenhaired!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> Oh +fairest, dearest one!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Another Girl</span>. <br> Oh Queen, smile down +upon us once again!</p> +<p class="hang5">[A rattling sound is heard. The Strange<br> + Leper steps from behind one of the columns.<br> + His bearded face is hidden by the hood of<br> + his cloak. The crowd draws away shuddering,<br> + the procession halts. The leper kneels<br> + before <span class="sc">Iseult</span> and bows so low that his<br> + forehead almost touches her feet.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> A leper, see!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> Oh Virgin +Mary, help!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 2d Girl</span>. <br> Whence came he here!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 3d Girl</span>. <br> He had +concealed himself!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (slowly).<br> + —Thou cam'st too soon my friend!<br> +<p class="hang5">[The leper disappears sidewise under the<br> + steps. The procession goes into the<br> + church, from which an organ begins to<br> + sound. The soldiers and the crowd follow<br> + after.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span> (covering her face with her +hands).<br> + Oh, our poor Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 2d Girl</span>. <br> She was like alabaster, +cold and white!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 3d Girl</span>. <br> Not once along the awful +way she raised<br> + Her eyes!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 4th Girl</span>. <br> She did not +wish to see!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The 1st Girl</span>. <br> +Oh fie,<br> + That Mark should shame her so!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The 2d Guard</span>. <br> +Make haste, ye must<br> + Go in!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Guard</span> (to the kneeling shepherd).<br> + Wake up! Thou too must go within<br> + The church. Now come!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> +The sun fell down!<br> + It grazed my eyes!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> I'll pray +with all my heart<br> + For our poor Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A 2d Girl</span>. <br> We all +will pray—and curse<br> + The King!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Guard</span>. <br> Thou slut, be +still, and hold thy tongue!<br> + Make haste into the church—go in!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +I hear<br> + The lepers coming! hark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Guard</span>. <br> Here, +girl, thou'st dropped<br> + Thy kerchief! [He picks it up.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Girl</span>. <br> Thanks!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Guard</span> (taking the old man by the +arm).<br> + Take hold of me, old man.<br> + Make haste.</p> +<p class="hang5">[The doors of the church close: the stage<br> + remains empty for a few seconds. The music<br> + of the organ swells, and a hymn is heard.<br> + Then, by snatches, first distantly, then<br> + nearer, the rythmical rattling of the lepers<br> + resounds.]</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang1">The lepers enter the courtyard. They are a wild pack dressed in +gaudy rags, and rumpled, armless cloaks with hoods; carrying long staves and +crutches; with colored cloths bound about their sinister foreheads. Their faces +are sunburnt, their hair is snow-white and streams in the wind. Some have their +heads shaved. Their arms and feet are bare. Altogether they present a motley +appearance, though the hardships of their life, as a band forced to live +together, give them the aspect of weather-beaten and dried chaff driven hither +and thither by the wind. They stand shyly and rock unsteadily on their dried and +shrunken legs—silent and restless. Like ghosts of the noonday, they try to hush +their voices throughout the scene.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span> (is the first to enter; the +others file past him).<br> + Come quick! They've all gone in!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Leper</span>. <br> +Right here<br> + The cat shall catch the bird!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Young Leper</span> (wearing a wreath, made +of three or four<br> + large red flowers, in his dark hair).<br> + Heisa! Heisa!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Speak softly, there, +lest ye disturb the mass.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">An Old Leper</span> (feeble, and supporting +himself on a crutch, in the tone of the town crier, almost singing).<br> + Today shall Queen Iseult, our good King's spouse<br> + Be given to us, the lepers of Lubin—<br> + So cried the herald!—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> +Brother, brother, dance<br> + With me, for I'm the bridegroom—Ah!—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span> (in the same tone).<br> +Today<br> + Shall Queen Iseult—</p> +<p class="hang5">[Every time that the old leper begins to<br> + speak he is silenced by the others.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span> (striking him).<br> Thou +fool!</p> + <p class="center">(To a fourth leper.)</p> + <p class="right">Come dance!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> +Be still!<br> + At noon to eat raw turnips, then at night<br> + To have the Queen to sleep with in the straw!<br> + Ha, ha! It makes me laugh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> +King Mark shall give<br> + Us wine to celebrate our wedding feast!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span> (dancing).<br> + Oh, brother, come and dance with me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Sixth Leper</span>. <br> +I want<br> + To look at her and then get drunk!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> +Come, then,<br> + And dance with me, my little brother, dance!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span> (coming from the gate).<br> + Be still, and stand in order by the steps,<br> + That we may see her when the hangman brings<br> + Her forth.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span> (sits down on the ground).<br> + I will not stand.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Then +crawl, thou toad!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span>. <br> Iseult the +Goldenhaired!—The lepers' bride,<br> + And Queen!</p> + <p class="center">(He laughs.)</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> Well spoken, +friend! We'll call her that!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span>. <br> Today shall Queen +Iseult—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">8th Leper</span>. <br> +She shall be mine<br> + I' the morning of all holidays!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> +And I<br> + Will have her late at night.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> +I'll take her first!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span>. <br> Not so; Iwein shall have +her first for he's<br> + Our King!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span> (to redhaired leper).<br> + Who? Thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">9th Leper</span>. <br> Thou have +her first? Who art<br> + Thou, then, thou redhaired knave?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span> (calling out loudly).<br> +Here's one who says<br> + He'll tame the Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> Oh, +break his jaw!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> +I want<br> + Her now, my friends; my loins burn and itch<br> + For her!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> I'll beat you, +cripples, and I'll make<br> + You all more cripple than ye are,<br> + Unless ye give her me to kiss and hug<br> + For one full week at least!</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> +What crowest thou,<br> + Redheaded rooster!—Ye shall all draw lots<br> + For who shall have her after me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">11th Leper</span>. <br> +Ay, let's<br> + Draw lots.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> Plague on +you all!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> +It's on us now!<br> + Come, let's draw lots!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span>. <br> Draw lots!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span>. <br> But first of +all<br> + I'll make her mend my clothes.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span> (tearing up a cloth).<br> +I'll tear the lots!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> Here, put them in my +cloak! Now come, and draw!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">12th Leper</span>. <br> Look yonder! There's +another one.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> +Where! Where?</p> +<p class="hang5">[As they crowd around, the Strange Leper<br> + steps from behind the column.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span>. <br> There, yonder, see—?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span>. <br> Who +is he?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">9th Leper</span>. <br> +Look!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span> (goes to the steps).<br> +Who art<br> + Thou!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Speak! Art thou a +leper too, as we?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span> (to the stranger).<br> + Today shall Queen Iseult, our good King's spouse—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> + Be still, old fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Wilt +thou not answer me?<br> + I am Iwein, the Lepers' King; what wouldst<br> + Thou here?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper throws money among them.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span> (leaping, with the rest, to +seize the money).<br> + Holla!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span>. <br> He's +throwing money! See!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> I am a leper from +Karesh and wish<br> + To dwell among you here at St. Lubin.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> Thou'st smelt the bird +from far, good friend!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> +We will<br> + Admit no new companion to our band!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">9th Leper</span>. <br> Go home, we'll none of +thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">11th Leper</span>. <br> +Hast thou more gold?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (holding up a purse).<br> + Iwein shall have it and distribute it<br> + Among you, if ye'll take me in.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">12th Leper</span>. <br> +Ha! 's death!<br> + Thou art a rich young varlet!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> +Let him stay!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> I care not if there be +one more or less!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Come down to us. What is +thy name?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper comes down from the<br> + steps.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span>. <br> +How tall<br> + Thou art! If Godwin dares to threaten me<br> + Thou'lt punish him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> And +what's thy name?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +Why, call<br> + Me then the Sad One, for that is my name.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Then come, thou Sad One, +take thy place. They'll keep<br> + Us not much longer waiting for our spouse.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span> (to the stranger).<br> + King Mark's a kind and gen'rous King to think<br> + Of giving us a wife!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span> (to the stranger).<br> The +herald cried<br> + That Queen Iseult of Ireland, King Mark's<br> + Own spouse today should be—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Fool, hold thy tongue!<br> + Let's all together make a noise, and shake<br> + Our clappers as a sign.</p> +<p class="right">[They shake their rattles.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">12th Leper</span>. <br> +The door! The door!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> Be still! Be still! +She's coming now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> +Be still.</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE IV</h2> +<p class="hang3"> +<p class="hang1">The door of the church is partially opened. The hangman leads <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span> +out. The Strange Leper falls on his knees and bows deep to the ground.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> Let's fall upon our +knees, Iwein!</p> + +<p class="hang5">[A few lepers kneel. The hangman takes<br> + <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> crown and cloak away. She stands<br> + there, draped only in her golden hair. Her<br> + eyes are closed and she remains motionless.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Hangman</span> (kissing <span class="sc"> +Iseult's</span> foot).<br> Forgive<br> + Me, Queen Iseult, for God's sweet sake!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He goes back into the church. The door<br> + closes and the organ sounds louder in the<br> + silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> +We are<br> + The lepers of Lubin, and thou, by Mark's<br> + Decree, art now our bride. Come down that we—</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper, with a violent effort,<br> + springs to his feet, and turns upon the<br> + lepers.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> Who spoke? Which one of +you? Tell me, who spoke?<br> + Scabs! Vultures! Curs, away! Be off! If one<br> + Of you but speaks again I'll trample you<br> + Beneath my feet and grind you in the dirt.<br> + What wish ye here? Here's gold! Be off, ye curs!<br> +<p class="hang5">[Only a few stoop to gather the gold he<br> + throws among them.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span> (rushes at him; <span class="sc"> +Iwein</span> holds him back).<br> + Thou! Thou!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iwein</span>. <br> Who art thou +that insults us thus?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span>. <br> Thou! Hold thy tongue, +else will Iwein give thee<br> + So sound a drubbing that thou shalt fall dead<br> + Upon the ground!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">8th Leper</span>. <br> Iwein +is strong!—He was<br> + A mighty Lord!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> Will ye +not go?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> +Hark, thou,<br> + This woman here is ours.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span> (thrusting a stick into <span class="sc"> +Iwein's</span> hand).<br> + Go, knock him down!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span>. <br> Come on!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper snatches the club from<br> + the feeble leper so that he falls, knocks<br> + <span class="sc">Iwein</span> to the ground, and leaps into the<br> + crowd dealing fierce blows right and left.<br> + In his left hand he holds a sword which<br> + he does not use. In the following scene,<br> + also, the lepers' voices are hushed from<br> + fear and surprise.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> There lies +Iwein! Be off, ye dogs!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span>. <br> Ai! oh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span>. <br> He's killed +Iwein!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> +Lay hold of him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span>. <br> Thou, Red One, seize him +by the throat—I'll leap<br> + Upon him from behind!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper knocks the Redhaired<br> + Leper down.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Redhaired Leper</span>. <br> Help! +Help!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +There lies<br> + Your Red One!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">4th Leper</span>. <br> Fly! He has a +sword!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">11th Leper</span> (receiving a blow).<br> +Oh help!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Old Leper</span>. <br> Come, brothers, let us +run.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span> (struck).<br> +Oh, oh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +Away<br> + With you! Be off!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span> (struck).<br> Ai! +Ai!</p> +<p class="hang5">[Some of the lepers try to carry away the<br> + wounded as they run.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Young Leper</span>. <br> +Let's carry off<br> + Iwein! Come, pick him up.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Leper</span>. <br> +And Godwin too!<br> + Make haste!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">11th Leper</span> (struck).<br> Oh help!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (driving the whole troupe to +the gate).<br> + Back, curs, back to your holes!<br> + Crawl back into your noisome dens!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">7th Leper</span> (struck).<br> +Oh! 'tis<br> + Beelzebub himself!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">10th Leper</span>. <br> The +devil!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">9th Leper</span>. <br> +Hold!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">12th Leper</span>. <br> We go! We go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">6th Leper</span>. <br> King Mark +shall punish thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (throwing the club after +them).<br> + Here, take your crutch and flee, ye curs!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Voices of the Lepers</span> (outside).<br> +Oh, oh!—<br> + He wounded me!—Fly!—Fly!—</p> + + + + + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE V</h2> +<p class="hang1">The Strange Leper, whose hood has fallen back during the +conflict, goes quickly to the foot of the steps. His forehead is bound with a +narrow band. <span class="sc">Iseult</span> stands motionless with closed eyes.</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +Iseult!</p> + <p class="right">(Anxiously, wonderingly and imploringly.)</p> + <p class="right">Iseult!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (throws back her head, +shuddering. She keeps her eyes closed. Slowly and heavily.)<br> + Thou beast! Thou dog!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> + Iseult! 'Tis I who call!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (hastily, as though to cover +herself with the words).<br> + I beg thee, beast, thou evil beast, speak not!<br> + If in thy loathsome carcass there still dwells<br> + Some remnant of a man, I pray thee slay<br> + Me, but speak not!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (uncertainly).<br> +Iseult!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He falls on his knees opposite the steps,<br> + but at a distance from them; and leans<br> + back until his thighs rest upon his heels.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Speak not! Be still,<br> + And kill me now! They've left me not so much<br> + As one small pin with which to kill myself!<br> + Behold! I kneel to thee, and like some low<br> + And humble maid, I beg thee, beast, to kill<br> + Me, and I'll bless thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> Oh, +Iseult, dost thou<br> + No longer love Lord Tristram who was once<br> + Thy friend?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (stares at him for a moment).<br> + Thou speak'st, thou speak'st, thou beast, and star'st!<br> + Yet God shall punish thee since, though I beg,<br> + Thou would'st not kill me now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (crying out despairingly).<br> +Iseult, awake!<br> + Oh Golden One, 'tis Tristram calls!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Thou seekst<br> + With scorn and biting words to martyr me,<br> + And kill me then! Oh say that thou wilt kill<br> + Me afterward—when thou hast railed enough!<br> + —And thou wilt come no nearer than thou art?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br>Iseult, awake! Awake, +Iseult, and speak,<br> + And tell me if thou lovest Tristram still!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Ah, he was once my +friend! Why dost thou use<br> + The dagger of his name to prick my heart?<br> + I loved him once, and 'tis for that I stand<br> + Here!—Kill me now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (going to the foot of the +steps).<br> + God help me! Hear me speak,<br> + Iseult, for I'm—</p> + <p class="center">(His voice breaks with a sigh.)</p> + <p class="hang4">I'm Tristram's messenger!<br> + Thine erstwhile friend—Him whom thou loved'st!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily).<br> Would'st +shame<br> + Me in my shame? Thou beast!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +I wish to save<br> + Thee now. Dost thou love Tristram still?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (going down a few steps, slowly +and carefully).<br> + Thou art<br> + A messenger of his?—And dost thou come,<br> + Perchance, to take me to him?</p> + <p class="center">(Breaking out.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Does thy Lord<br> + Desire me, to give me as a gift<br> + From some strange land, to his new + bride?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Leper hides his face in his<br> + hands.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Am I<br> + To sit within a cage and watch + him kiss<br> + Her? Listen to him call his wife + "Iseult?"<br> + Was this his sweet design, or + does Iseult<br> + The Snowy Handed crave my golden + hair<br> + To make a pillow for voluptuous + hours?<br> + How strange that Tristram should + so long for me<br> + That he sends forth his + messengers! And will<br> + He lay us both within the + self-same bed?<br> + Caress and kiss us both at once + throughout<br> + The night's long, heavy hours? + In other days<br> + More modest was thy Lord in his + desires.</p> + <p class="center">(Passionately.)</p> +<p class="hang4">Now kill me, kill me, beast! I've lived enough.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> Iseult, dost thou not +know me yet?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +How should<br> + I know thee, beast, or in what roadside ditch<br> + Lord Tristram found thee as he fled away<br> + This morning through the Morois from a man<br> + Who called upon him in my name?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> +Oh, judge<br> + Him not too quickly. Queen Iseult! He stood<br> + And waited for the man, who in thy name<br> + Had called!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in fierce anger).<br> + He stood, say'st thou? Why then<br> + He has not wed Iseult, white handed Queen?<br> + I dreamed it all, and sobbed but in my dreams,<br> + Perhaps? 'Twas then dream-tears I wept at this<br> + Report?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> Be merciful to +Tristram, Queen!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span> descends a few more steps; +looks<br> + at him searchingly, and speaks, in a way,<br> + questioningly.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Wast thou his servant +while he still was true,<br> + And caught'st the plague while on his wedding trip?<br> + Then weep for him, thou poor diseasèd beast!<br> + I know thee not. And if thy master stood<br> + Here too,—Lord Tristram, whom I once did love<br> + And who returned my love in youthful years—<br> + If he now stood before me here, I should<br> + Not recognize his face behind the mask<br> + Of cowardice which he has worn of late.<br> + His faithlessness sticks to him like black slime!<br> + Go tell him that!—I hate him in this mask!<br> + He was so loving and so true when first<br> + I knew and loved him! God shall punish him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br>Iseult, great God has +punished him enough;<br> + His soul is writhing in its agony<br> + Before thy feet!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> His +soul is leprous, ay!<br> + And 'tis an awful thing when one's own soul<br> + Is leprous grown!—I loathe and hate him now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (leaping up).<br> + Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (wildly).<br> + Go call the Vultures, call them forth!<br> + I want to dance in their white arms, and flee<br> + From Tristram's leprous soul that has betrayed<br> + And shamed me thus!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br> May +God in mercy help<br> + Him, for he loves thee still, Iseult, in life<br> + And death! [He starts toward the gate.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Voice of Lord Denovalin</span>. <br> + Let none go out! Draw up the bridge,<br> + And close the castle gates! I'll catch the hound!</p> +<p class="hang5">[Iseult staggers a few steps and collapses.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span>. <br>Denovalin, Iseult! Our +hated foe<br> + Denovalin! Quick, hide thy nakedness<br> + Within this cloak!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He covers her with his cloak and bends<br> + over her.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Dear lady I will kill<br> + This man and then myself!</p> + <p class="center">(Denovalin enters.)</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br> +Thou, there! Who art<br> + Thou? Speak, thou hound! Who dares thus brazenly<br> + To set at naught King Mark's decreed commands?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (who has sprung upon the +curbing of the wall).<br> + Denovalin, a second time thou shalt<br> + Not flee from me!—Take heed, and guard thyself!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He springs at <span class="sc">Denovalin</span> and overthrows<br> + him. He then swings himself up on the<br> + wall and stands there for a second; his<br> + leper's garment is thrown back and he<br> + appears in a coat of silver mail, shining<br> + in the sunlight.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Denovalin</span>. <br>Tristram of Lyonesse!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Leper</span> (pulling his cloth from his +head).<br> + Dost recognize<br> + Him by the stroke? God help me now!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He leaps down from the wall. The stage<br> + remains for a time empty. The organ<br> + sounds; the gates are opened and two<br> + guards stand on either side of the steps.<br> + The church is gradually emptied.]</p> + + + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VI</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Soldier</span> (in subdued tones).<br> +What? Dost<br> + Thou weep, Forzin?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> I'm not +ashamed! There's none<br> + But weeps, save Mark alone! The very stones<br> + Must weep!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span>. <br> It makes me +shudder when I think<br> + Of it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> Come, come, let's +all go home.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> +Oh hark!<br> + Methought I heard one moan!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Girl</span>. <br> +Oh God! Behold!<br> + Here lies the Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Girl</span>. <br> +They've murdered her!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span> (running to the spot).<br> +The Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> My God!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span>. <br> The King doth +call!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> +She lives no more.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">3d Girl</span>. <br> Here lies another!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span> (running up).<br> Lord +Denovalin!<br> + Stone dead!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> Who? Where?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> He bleeds +and does not move!</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (rushes up and throws himself +down beside <span class="sc">Iseult</span>).<br> + Oh God! My queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span> (pulling him away).<br> +Stand back there, boy!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +Oh let<br> + Me kneel beside the Queen!—I always did!<br> + Oh, Queen Iseult, how pale thou art!—But, see,<br> + She breathes!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> The Queen still +breathes!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +She is not dead!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> Go call it out within +that all may come,<br> + She is not dead!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Knight</span>. <br> Why shout ye +so?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Boy</span>. <br> +Behold,<br> + The lepers would not have Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Boy</span>. <br> +Proclaim<br> + It round about!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> Be still, +here comes the King!<br> + Make room!</p> +<p class="hang5">Mark comes down the steps and stops on<br> + the last one, motionless and staring.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span>. <br> King Mark, here +lies the Queen Iseult.<br> + She breathes, but shows no signs of life.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Soldier</span>. <br> +And here<br> + Lies Lord Denovalin. He's dead, King Mark.</]> +<p class="hang5">[Mark leans against a column to support<br> + himself and stares down upon the scene.<br> + The crowd groups itself and throngs the<br> + door of the church behind him.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> What's this?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Boy</span>. <br> The lepers +would not have Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span> (to <span class="sc">Gimella</span>).<br> + Here lies the Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> +Untouched and pure!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Woman</span>. <br> +A great,<br> + And wondrous thing!—A judgment from the sky!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> No one has touched her, +see!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Voice</span>. <br> +Is she asleep?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Man</span>. <br> See, one has wrapped her +in a cloak!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span> (calling aloud).<br> +The cloak<br> + Shall hang within the church!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Girl</span>. <br> +Brangaene, come!<br> + She's smiling through her tears.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (bending over <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span>—softly).<br> + Oh dear Iseult!<br> + Belovèd one!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> She breathes +as feverishly<br> + And deep as does a sick and suffering child<br> + At midnight in its sleep!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Soldier</span>. <br> +I'll to the gate<br> + And ask the guards if they have seen some sign<br> + Or token how this miracle occur'd!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (cries angrily).<br> + I'll crucify the man who asks!</p> +<p class="hang5">[All heads turn then in his direction and a<br> + terrified expression comes over all<br> + countenances. <span class="sc">Mark</span> speaks harshly and +calmly.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Dinas<br> + Of Lidan? Is he here?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +Lord Dinas left<br> + The castle gate today at dawn, my Lord.</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Did Lord Denovalin +receive his wound<br> + In front, or from behind?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +Here, at the throat.<br> + The wound is small and deep, as though a shaft<br> + Of lightning struck him there between the helm<br> + And gorget—sharp and swift.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Voices</span>. <br> +Oh listen! See,<br> + 'Twas God that struck Denovalin, since he<br> + Had falsely testified against the Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Then let the executioner +strip off<br> + His arms, and hang them in my armory,<br> + So that the sun shall shine thereon. The corpse<br> + Shall he bind to a horse's tail, and drag<br> + It o'er the common land and let it rot!<br> + Where lies the Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Shepherd</span>. <br> Stand back +there, for King Mark<br> + Would see the Queen in her pale beauty! Back!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The crowd stands back and a space is<br> + cleared around <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <span class="sc"> +Mark</span> looks down<br> + upon her from above and speaks coldly<br> + and slowly, controlling himself.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Let Queen Iseult be +carried on that cloak<br> + Within the castle. Place her there upon<br> + Soft pillows. Strew fresh flowers round about<br> + Her bed, and moisten all her robes and clothes<br> + With sweetest perfumes. Kneel ye down and pray<br> + When she doth speak to you, for she must be<br> + In some way sacred, since God loves her thus.</p> + <p class="center">(Almost shouting.)</p> + <p class="hang4">And if she should be found in Tristram's bed<br> + I'll kill the man who tells me of it, ay,<br> + And let his body rot upon the ground!<br> + Now saddle me a horse that I may go<br> + To seek Lord Dinas, my most loyal friend! </p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT IV</h2> + +<br> +<br> +<p class="hang1">The High Vaulted Hall of the Castle.—In the middle of the hall +on the left opens a high, wooden staircase. In the background on the left, +bay-windows; on the right, a broad, barred door. Through the grating one sees +the outer court. In the middle of the wall on the right is a wide fireplace on +each side of which jut out low stone benches. In front of the windows stands a +table at which <span class="sc">Dinas</span> and <span class="sc">Ganelun</span>, +the First and Second Barons, are playing chess. In the foreground, a table on +which chess-boards stand prepared for play. The table by the stone-bench stands +on a dais which is shut off from behind by a railing. On the dais and on the +floor are carpets. Servants take wine-flagons from a sideboard which stands on +the left beside the stairs, and place them in front of the players. In front of +the raised table <span class="sc">Ugrin</span>, the King's Jester, is asleep. +The oil-torches give only a dim light. For a moment the players continue their +game in silence. </p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> Take heed unto thy +queen, Lord Ganelun,<br> + Unless thou willingly dost sacrifice<br> + Her to my pawns, as Mark gave Queen Iseult<br> + Unto his lepers!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Wait! for see, I move<br> + My bishop back.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> Check! Dinas, +check and mate!<br> + Thou mad'st it easy, friend. Thou never shouldst<br> + Have sacrificed the knight, for thus my rook<br> + Escaped, attacking thee.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Forgive; my thoughts<br> + Were troubled, ay, and wandered from the game.</p> +<p class="hang5">[Two knights come in from the courtyard.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span>. <br> I cannot make one ray +of sense from all<br> + These strange occurrences, my Lords! I greet<br> + Thee, Ganelun!</p> +<p class="right">[Shakes hands with the Barons.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2nd Knight</span> (shaking hands).<br> + At chess! At chess my Lords!<br> + Your blood must run full slowly in your veins!</p> +<p class="right">[Comes forward.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> King Mark has bid us +play, and order'd wine<br> + For us to drink, since otherwise 'twould be<br> + A dull and sombre evening here tonight<br> + Within the castle hall, for Queen Iseult,<br> + I ween, will stay in her retirement.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span>. <br> King Mark bade us come +hither too.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +"Oh God!<br> + Men! Men! Bring lights and let me see the face<br> + Of human beings 'round about!" So cried<br> + My cousin Mark not half an hour agone,<br> + As one on whom the mirth of loneliness<br> + Falls all too heavily!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> What +think ye, Lords,<br> + Of this most wondrous thing?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> +And do ye know<br> + That Kaad, King Mark's old stable groom, beheld<br> + St. George leap from the battlement where wall<br> + And rock drop off an hundred fathom sheer?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Barons stand up and crowd about him.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>St. George?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> What's that thou +say'st?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Dost thou know more?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> I know but what old Kaad +himself recounts;<br> + That, as he led Mark's charger down to drink,<br> + There suddenly appeared before his eyes<br> + The lofty shape of good St. George, erect,<br> + Upon the wall!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span> (crossing himself).<br> God +save my soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +And then?<br> + What happened then?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> Kaad +thought at first<br> + He was some mortal man and cried to him<br> + To heed; but in that selfsame moment leapt<br> + The holy knight, and cleared the wall, and fell<br> + The hundred fathoms. But when Kaad ran up,<br> + With all the speed he might unto the spot,<br> + St. George had vanished and had left no trace.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>No trace?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> 'Tis strange!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> A +wondrous thing!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +But say,<br> + By what did Kaad first recognize the saint?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> I know not, but he says +'twas he; and all<br> + The people, are rejoicing at this new<br> + And wondrous miracle of good St. George.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span>. <br> What says King Mark +about this miracle,<br> + This saving of the Queen by God Himself?<br> + Hast seen him, Dinas?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> (returning to the table). Ay, his +heart and mind<br> + Are heavy and his soul distressed.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> +And Queen<br> + Iseult?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span>. <br> What said the King +of her?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +The King<br> + Refused to see her, or to speak with her,<br> + Since neither dares to speak of this foul deed<br> + Which has occurred; its memory still throbs,<br> + And tingling flows throughout their blood.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +And yet<br> + He sent the Queen, and without message too,<br> + The head that pledged a perjured oath today,<br> + Upon a silver shield. And well he did.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> My Lord Denovalin a +victim fell<br> + Unto a saintly and a holy hand,<br> + But died ingloriously!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +As he deserved<br> + So died he. Sir.</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Barons and Knights sit down again<br> + at the table. King <span class="sc">Mark</span>, unnoticed by<br> + the others, comes slowly down the steps,<br> + and walks about. He is oppressed and<br> + agitated. At length he stops, and, leaning<br> + against the end post of the bannister,<br> + listens to the conversation of the others.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span>. <br> A +leper has been stoned<br> + Because he cried throughout Lubin that 'twas<br> + The devil who had done the thing.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Such leaps<br> + By God or devil can alone be done.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> 'Tis true, my Lords, no +mortal man can spring<br> + An hundred fathoms.</p> +<p class="hang5">[Mark steps up to the table and lays his<br> + arm about Dinas' neck.]</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +True, Lord Ganelun!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span> (springing up).<br> + The King!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span><br> The King here! +Pardon, sire!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +I thank<br> + You all, my Lords, that ye were not enraged<br> + And angered at a weak old man, and came<br> + Again to me. I would not willingly<br> + Have spent this night alone.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Most cheerfully<br> + We came. The Queen's miraculous escape<br> + O'er joys us all.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> There lack +but three to make<br> + The tale complete; those three, my Lords, who stood<br> + As sponsors of the bond.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +They're coursing through<br> + The gloomy forest paths and seek to catch<br> + That which, since God hath spoken, cannot be<br> + Therein. I've sent my riders to recall<br> + Them here to me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Give me thy +hand, King Mark,<br> + For I am glad that thou didst err!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (his voice is bitter and +despairing).<br> + I, too,<br> + Am glad, for if this morning I appeared<br> + A wreckless youth, a foolish boy who dared<br> + In arrogant presumption to assert<br> + Himself and to rebel against your word,<br> + Forgive me. Passion is the heritage<br> + Of man; his deeds the natural consequence<br> + Of passion. Think ye not the same? And see,<br> + How God, now for the second time, has wrought,<br> + And sternly proved the truth! Is it, perchance,<br> + His will that I should learn unseeingly,<br> + Unquestioningly to revere His stars<br> + On which our actions here on earth depend?<br> + What think ye, sirs? for so it seems to me;<br> + And therefore hath He hid from me that which<br> + Most eagerly I wish to know, so that<br> + Before this veiled uncertainty, my blood<br> + Ran riot in my veins. But from this day<br> + I'll change my mode of life; I will regard<br> + My blindness and His unavoidable<br> + Decree; for wisdom lies in piety,<br> + As says an ancient proverb; hence I will,<br> + From this day on, learn piety that I<br> + Become a very sage for wisdom.</p> +<p class="right">[Goes away.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">A Knight</span>. <br> +Calm<br> + Thyself!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (calling to <span class="sc">Mark</span>).<br> +Ay, cousin, make thyself a monk!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (turning back).<br> + And I will learn to laugh at God that He<br> + Should give Himself such trouble for a man<br> + Like me—poor fool! Enough! Forgive my wrongs<br> + In friendly wise, as I will overlook<br> + Your sins with all my heart. But, if a man<br> + Grown lately wise may counsel you, sin not;<br> + Your work is the beginning, God's the end.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (calling out to him).<br> + Amen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> I've broken +in upon your game<br> + My friends, and chattered on. Forgive it me;<br> + Resume your play and cups; drink on, I pray.</p> +<p class="right">[He goes over to <span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. ]</p> + <p class="hang4">Thy jokes are empty of all wit today,<br> + Ugrin.</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> My wit has fallen +off, say'st thou?<br> + Decay of time, believe me Mark; for wit<br> + Is wine, and wine is poured into a cup<br> + Of sparkling gold, and not into a crack'd<br> + Old jug, and thou, illustrious cousin, art<br> + Become a broken pot since noon today!/p> +<p class="right">[Hands him his jester's sceptre.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Here, hit thyself! Behold the ring is gone!<br> + My wit's too precious for a ringless cup.<br> + At Easter tide I'll seek me out as lord<br> + Some jovial soul who loves his wine; who plays<br> + Wild pranks, and gives his wife away when he<br> + Is tired of her!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (sitting down on the stone bench).<br> + Friend Ugrin, I warn<br> + Thee, heed thy tongue!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Ay, +cousin! Ay, 'twere best<br> + Since thou'st forsworn all quarreling!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +I wish<br> + That I might put thee on the rack and have<br> + Thee whipped before I go to rest! Instead<br> + I'll give thee two broad marks of gold if thou<br> + Can'st move Iseult to laughter; and I'll give<br> + Besides the gold a brand-new cloak to wear<br> + In winter time!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Well lined?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (takes him by both ears).<br> +I've set my heart<br> + Upon it that Iseult shall laugh, so do<br> + Thy best, my friend!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (stands up).<br> + With some well-chosen words,<br> + Perhaps, I briefly might describe to her<br> + The leper's throng! What say'st thou, cousin?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Or I might ask her what +it's like when one's<br> + Own husband, from unfeeling jealousy,<br> + Ordains one to be burnt; or yet again<br> + I might, with due solemnity, implore<br> + Her to be kind—to love thee once again,<br> + Good cousin! Surely she must laugh at that!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Peace, fool! Thou +weariest me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +If thou intend<br> + To grow thy beard in this new way I'll turn<br> + Thy barber! I shall serve thee better then<br> + Than now as fool! What say'st to this?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Oh fool,<br> + If only thou wast not a fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (noticing <span class="sc">Iseult</span> +at the head of the stairs). No fool<br> + So great as thou thyself! Behold her now,<br> + The woman whom thou gav'st away! Oh fie!<br> + Fool cousin, art thou not ashamed?<br> + (Sinks to his knees and calls out.)<br> + The Queen<br> + Approaches! Queen Iseult!</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang1">The Knights and Barons rise; <span class="sc">Mark</span> springs up and steps +back a pace. +<span class="sc">Iseult</span> remains standing on the bottom step. <span class="sc"> +Brangaene</span>, <span class="sc">Gimella</span> and +<span class="sc">Paraniss</span> are behind her.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +I beg of you,<br> + My Lords, consider what is past as 'twere<br> + A dream, since otherwise we could not find<br> + Fit words or proper sentiments to stand<br> + Before each other with unblushing cheek,<br> + For very shame and horror at this deed.</p> +<p class="right">[She steps down into the hall.]</p> +<p class="hang4">My Lords, I bid you welcome, one and all!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> I kiss thy mantle's hem, +oh Queen!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> +So do<br> + We all who stand before thee now. We feel<br> + That thou art holy, Queen Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Ye do<br> + Me wrong in praising me too much, good friends.<br> + I did but swear the truth and keep what I<br> + Had sworn. Continue now your play. I would<br> + Not hinder you!</p> +<p class="hang5">[She turns to <span class="sc">Mark</span>; both stare at each<br> + other for a moment and then <span class="sc">Iseult</span><br> + speaks timidly, almost childishly.]<br> + I wish to play at chess<br> + —With Mark and Dinas—that true, loyal friend—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (after a short pause, quietly and +kindly).<br> + Play thou with Dinas first, since I, this morn,<br> + Did interrupt thy game. I promised him<br> + That he should play with thee.</p> +<p class="right">[He goes to the chest.]</p> +<p class="center">(Breaking out.)</p> +<p class="hang4">I'll choose Ugrin<br> + As my opponent! Come, Sir Fool, and play<br> + With me! [Sits down on the chest.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> So be it, Mark. Friend +Dinas, come;<br> + And thou Gimella play with Ganelun.</p> +<p class="center">(To <span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. )</p> +<p class="hang4">Stand thou beside me here and help me worst<br> + Mine adversary. Come.</p> +<p class="hang5">[She seats herself with <span class="sc">Dinas</span> at the +raised<br> + table. <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> stands beside the table<br> + and leans over the bannister. <span class="sc">Paranis</span><br> + seats himself at <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> feet. <span class="sc"> +Gimella</span><br> + takes her place at the other table. The<br> + Strange Jester slinks across the court<br> + and presses his pale, beardless face,<br> + drawn with suffering, against the bars<br> + of the grating. His head is shaved and<br> + his clothes are torn and ragged.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +Laugh at me, Queen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Tell me, Ugrin, why +should I laugh at thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> I beg thee laugh; most +fondly I implore<br> + Thee laugh at me, Iseult. My cousin here<br> + Hath promised me much gold if I can make<br> + Thee laugh at me but once—I want that gold<br> + So much!—Come, laugh at me, Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +First earn<br> + Thy gold, good fool. Be off and let us play.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (kneels down by <span class="sc"> +Mark</span> beside the chest).<br> + Thy wife's not in her sweetest mood today,<br> + Good cousin. Know'st thou why perhaps?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +A truce<br> + To thy dull jokes! Come, play the game. Sir Knave!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I'll take thy castle, +Dinas! Heed thy game.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (humming).<br> + Oh once there was a mighty King,<br> + Who had a lady fair.<br> + This King did love his beauteous dame<br> + As though his wife she were—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Thy castle falls—<br> + (Softly.)<br> + I hardly see the squares!<br> + They sway and rock like billows on the sea.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Why weepest thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I am +not happy, friend.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span> (softly).<br> + Oh God!—There, see! Through yonder window's bars<br> + There peers a man.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Where, boy?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +There! There!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (calling through the +grating).<br> + Holla!<br> + King Mark! Holla!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> What's that!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (rising).<br> +Who storms outside<br> + My door? Such noises in the night I will<br> + Not brook! Who's there?</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Ugrin</span> runs to the grating.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + A jester, King; a poor<br> + And witless fool. Let me come in! I'll crack<br> + New jokes to make thee laugh!—Let me come in.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> A fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> How came he here?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +He startled me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Indeed we weary of +Ugrin's stale jests.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> I'm a poor jester that +would come to thee,<br> + So let me in. King Mark.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (going to the grating).<br> +The fools, it seems,<br> + Smell out my door as carrion-vultures smell<br> + A corpse.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Cousin; let +him be driven out!<br> + I beg thee, have him whipped.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Guard</span> (from without).<br> I've +caught thee, rogue!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> How came this strange +fool past the gates, Gilain?<br> + Wast thou asleep?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> King Mark, +this man has slunk<br> + About the gate since it grew dark. He says<br> + He wants to see thee. Many times have we<br> + Already driven him away, but still<br> + He sticks like pitch about the gate.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I am<br> + A jester from a foreign land—I wish<br> + To come to thee. King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +Behold the fool!<br> + He cries like that unceasingly.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Speak, fool,<br> + What need hast thou of me?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Mark, let me in!<br> + I'll make such jests that thou, and all thy lords<br> + And ladies die from laughing at my wit.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span> (laughing).<br> + The merry jests!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> This +wandering knave intrudes<br> + Too boldly!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Rogue! Oh +shameless one. I'll give<br> + Thee such a drubbing as thou ne'er hast felt.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Know'st thou, in truth, +new jests.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Ay, Mark, new jests<br> + To make thee laugh or weep. Ay, merry jests!</p> + + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE IV</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> opens the grating and lets the +Strange Jester in. The Jester advances a few feet on the right, and stops to +stare at <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <span class="sc">Ugrin</span> +walks about him, examining him.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Then come, thou +jail-bird. Hark, Gilain, let now<br> + The guard be doubled at the lower gate<br> + That none, unnoticed, may come in.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + But should<br> + A stranger King arrive,—a stranger King,<br> + The master of this stranger fool—let him<br> + Come in, Gilain.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Play, Dinas, play thy +game!<br> + Their chatter wearies me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Now tell me, rogue,<br> + Why clamorest thou so loudly at my gate?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I wish to stay with thee.</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br>What cooked they in thy +kitchen, Mark, tonight<br> + That all the fools have smelt it out?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I saw<br> + The fire glowing in thy hall; I saw<br> + The light and so I came—I'm cold.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +Then wrap<br> + Thyself more closely in thy cloak, thou fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +I've given it away.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (laughing).<br> It +seems thou art<br> + A tender hearted fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> +And yet it does<br> + Not seem as though thou couldst give much away!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (looking at the fool carefully).<br> + Whence comest thou, Sir Fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I come from there—<br> + From there outside, from nowhere else—<br> + (Looking at <span class="sc">Iseult</span> and in a soft voice—<br> + almost singing.)<br> + And yet<br> + My mother was Blanchefleur!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span> starts and stares across at +him.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (goes back laughing to his seat. <span class="sc"> +Ugrin</span> follows him).<br> + Ha! ha! The jest<br> + Is poor. Hast thou no better ones, my friend?<br> + Blanchefleur was mine own sister. She begat<br> + No fool like thee!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + 'Twas then some other one<br> + Who bore the self-same name and me the pain<br> + And sorrow, Mark. What matters it to thee?</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span> (laughingly).<br> + Our jesting rogue grows bitter in his mirth!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Let this strange jester +stand a little forth<br> + That we may see him in the light.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Come here,<br> + Sir Fool, and stand before the Queen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +He is<br> + An ass as awkward as I e'er beheld!<br> + So cousin, judge by contrast 'twixt us two,<br> + And see the priceless thing thou hast in me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Go, fool, be not afraid.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (steps in front of the +stone bench on the<br> + left, opposite <span class="sc">Iseult's</span> table).<br> + —I'm cold!—I'm cold!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (after looking at him for a +moment breaks into<br> + a clear and relieved laugh).<br> + A sorry sight to look upon!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Jester hides his face in his<br> + hands.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span> (springing forward).<br> +The Queen<br> + Is laughing—see!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Made he +some witty jest?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> Why laughst thou so, +Iseult?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +'Tis horrible<br> + To see the fool's distorted face!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +He looks<br> + So pitifully at me! it makes me laugh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> I'm angry with thee, +Queen Iseult! Oh fie!<br> + For shame, how couldst thou laugh at that strange fool?<br> + (Turning to <span class="sc">Mark</span>. )<br> + I pray thee, Mark, good cousin, wilt thou give<br> + To him the two whole marks of gold?</p> +<p class="hang5">[During this time the Strange Jester sits<br> + on the railing which joins the bench to the<br> + fireplace. He rests his elbows on his<br> + knees and his face on his hands. He<br> + stares at <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. ]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +Rejoice!<br> + The King will give thee a reward since thou<br> + Hast cheered the Queen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (without changing his +attitude).<br> + Would that I'd make her weep,<br> + This Queen, instead of laugh!</p> +<p class="right">[Soft and low laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +How's that?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Because<br> + I am a fool for sorrow, not for mirth!</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter; the fool springs up.]</p> +<p class="hang4">And none shall laugh when he beholds my face!</p> +<p class="hang5">[Laughter; the fool seats himself again.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (earnestly).<br> + How strangely speaks the fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +My friend, I think,<br> + That some one cut thee from the gallows!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (stares at <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span>—slowly).<br> Mark,<br> + How proud and cold a wife thou hast! Her name's<br> + Iseult, I think. Am I not right?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (smiling).<br> +Doth she<br> + Please thee. Sir Fool?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Ay! ay! She pleases me.</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Iseult the Goldenhaired!—I'm cold, King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> The fool is mad!—I like +him not.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (to the Strange Jester).<br> +Thou hast<br> + Thine answer now!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> Is this +the first time thou<br> + Beheldst the Queen?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Art thou a +stranger, friend?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +Mayhap I've seen the Queen before; mayhap<br> + I never have.—I know not, Mark.</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span> (laughing).<br> +A strange<br> + And curious jest, i' faith!</p> +<p class="center">(To those laughing at the other table.)</p> +<p class="hang4"> Come here, my Lords,<br> + For this new jester is most wondrous strange.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (in rising grief).<br> + I had a sweetheart once, and she was fair!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (laughing).<br> + Ay! I believe thee, friend!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Yea, she was fair,<br> + Almost as fair as Queen Iseult, thy wife.</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> +<p class="hang4">I'm cold!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily).<br> Thou fool, why +starest thou at me?<br> + Avaunt!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Laugh once again at me, Iseult!<br> + Thy laugh was fair, and yet, methinks, those eyes<br> + Must be still fairer when they overflow<br> + With tears.—I wish that I could make thee weep,<br> + Iseult! [A silence.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (going over to him).<br> + Ho, ho! Are those thy jokes! I'll fall<br> + A weeping straight, thou croaking raven!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (springing up).<br> +Take<br> + This fool away, or else I'll smite him dead!</p> +<p class="right">[<span class="sc">Ugrin</span> jumps backward.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Thou art a gloomy +jester, boy!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> +His jests<br> + Are all of some new fangled sort.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Speak, fool,<br> + Whom hast thou served till now?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I've served King Mark<br> + In far off Cornwall—.</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> +<p class="hang4">And he had a wife,<br> + And she was fair, with long and golden hair!</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Why laughst thou Dinas, friend?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The laughter dies suddenly; the Barons<br> + and Knights, who, with the exception of<br> + those at the Queen's table, had formed a<br> + circle around the Strange Jester, shrink<br> + back.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> (startled).<br> +My God! He knows<br> + My name as well!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> 'Tis passing +strange!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +Thou!—Fool—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> He's quick, and makes +good use of what he hears!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> His jests are +impudent,—I wish that he<br> + Would go away! He wearies me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +And yet<br> + There's something in the knave that pleases me.<br> + His madness lies still deeper than it seems—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Ay, cousin, in his +belly, for, methinks,<br> + He has a stomachache!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Come, friend, tell us<br> + A tale.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (starting up). Why stare ye +so at me, ye pack<br> + Of rogues? Why mock ye me?<br> + (In anguish.)<br> + I'm but a fool!<br> + A wretched fool! Send them away. King Mark,<br> + And listen thou to me. We'll stay here all<br> + Alone:—the Queen, and thou, and I, and then<br> + I'll tell thee pretty things, sweet things,—so sweet<br> + That one must shiver when one hears! Now send<br> + Away the rest!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> Take heed. +Sir Fool, be not<br> + Too bold.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> He should be +soundly beaten!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Leave<br> + Him, Lords, in peace. I like his foolishness,<br> + Because he does not crack the silly jokes<br> + That other jesters do.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I, too, was once<br> + As good a knight as they—!</p> +<p class="right">[Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span> (laughing).<br> +I wish I'd seen<br> + Thee, knave!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (steadily).<br> + Thou saw'st me many times and wast<br> + My friend, Lord Ganelun!</p> +<p class="right">[All step back nervously.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span> (crossing himself).<br> God +save us, friends!<br> + He knows us all by name!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +A gruesome fool!<br> + Send him away. King Mark; he's mad.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Speak on!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +My tongue cleaves to my gums; my throat is parch'd!<br> + Give me to drink.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (stands up and takes a goblet from +the table).<br> + I had forgot, poor fool!<br> + But thou shalt drink wine from a golden cup.<br> + Thy foolishness has touched my heart. At times.<br> + My Lords, 'twould be an easy thing to turn<br> + To such a fool. Iseult! Come pledge the cup<br> + That he may have somewhat of which to dream<br> + On cold and thirsty nights. Grant him this<br> + boon. [He gives Iseult the cup.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> I pledge—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (jumping down from the +bench).<br> + Drink not! Drink not!—She drank!</p> +<p class="right">[He waves aside the cup.]</p> +<p class="hang4"> I will<br> + Not drink.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> A brazen knave!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +Fie, fie! For shame!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +I'll not drink with a woman from one cup<br> + The self-same wine again.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +What hinders thee?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +Ask Queen Iseult.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily and fearfully).<br> + Oh, Mark! He mocks me. Send<br> + The fool away!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (he throws himself on the +ground before the<br> + dais and whispers low and tensely to <span class="sc">Iseult</span>).<br> + "For they who drink thereof<br> + Together, so shall love with every sense<br> + Alive, yet senseless—with their every thought,<br> + Yet thoughtless, too, in life, in death, for aye—<br> + Yet he, who having known the wond'rous bliss<br> + Of that intoxicating cup of love.<br> + Spits out the draught disloyally, shall be<br> + A homeless and a friendless worm,—a weed<br> + That grows beside the road"—So spake my love,<br> + And handed me a golden cup of wine<br> + And bade me drink,—But evil came thereof—.</p> +<p class="hang5">[During his speech <span class="sc">Iseult</span> sits up in +her<br> + chair, and bending backward, stares down<br> + at him in horror.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> The Queen turns pale!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +Iseult! My God! Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> He conjures!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> 'Twas a magic +spell!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> +Lay hold<br> + Of him! He is a conjurer.</p> +<p class="hang5">[A few men start to seize the jester—he<br> + jumps upon the bench.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (trembling with fright).<br> +Excuse—<br> + My weakness—'tis—'tis but—let be—this fool's<br> + Strange jesting is most ghastly—it revolts my soul<br> + And—made me faint—.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Thou knave! I'll +have thee whipped!<br> + Tell me thy name—Who art thou? Speak!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Come not<br> + Too near!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> I have a +dungeon deep and strong,<br> + And I can have thee thrown to Husdent. He<br> + Will tear thee limb from limb, thou conjurer!<br> + Who art thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (in a friendly tone).<br> + Answer, friend, our Cousin Mark<br> + Speaks not in jest!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Call in the guards!</p> +<p class="hang5">[A Knight tries to lay hold of the Strange<br> + Jester.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Let go!<br> + I'm but a wretched fool!—I have no name!<br> + What matters it to you? I've smirched my good<br> + And noble name—so now I have no name.<br> + I had one once that rang full true and high!<br> + I've twisted it about, and broken it!</p> +<p class="center"> (In rising agitation.)</p> +<p class="hang4">I broke my name, and throwing up the bits<br> + I caught them as they fell, and threw them up<br> + Again; and so I played with my fair name<br> + Until the fragments rang again and fell<br> + At last back to my hand, deformed and changed,<br> + To stick, and make a name that is no name—<br> + So call me Tramtris.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> —Tramtris—!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Ugrin</span> claps his hands and rolls +laughing<br> + on the ground.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Fool, what ails<br> + Thee now?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> The jester +jesteth. Seest thou not?<br> + Why, turn it 'round! Tramtris—Tristram!<br> + He says<br> + He was Lord Tristram! Ho! [Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +That was the jest<br> + That he so cunningly devised!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> +This shaft<br> + Of irony has struck the mark and hits<br> + This day and thee, King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Knight</span>. <br> +A clever fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (laughing softly).<br> + I wish Lord Tristram saw the knave!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> +He'd laugh!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (trembling with anger).<br> + Let not thy nephew Tristram's knightly fame<br> + And noble name serve as a mockery<br> + To such a ghoul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (gaily).<br> +Forgive me, fair Iseult;<br> + And yet it makes me laugh to think that this<br> + Poor fool went mad from thinking that he was<br> + My noble nephew Tristram. Speak, thou toy of fate,<br> + Wast thou Lord Tristram once!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (almost timidly).<br> +Ay, Mark, I was;<br> + And often was I with Iseult, thy wife!<br> + Forgive it me! [Laughter.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Dost +thou permit that he<br> + Should heap such insults on thy wife's fair<br> + name?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (gaily).</p> + +<p class="hang3">Heed not his words; the people love such jests.<br> + (To the jester.)<br> + Give us a sign, Sir Fool.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +A sign! A sign!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>Ay, let the fool describe +the Queen. Give ear.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> 'Twill be a royal sport! +And first he shall<br> + Describe her feet! Speak on!</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Ugrin</span> sits on the ground. <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span> hides<br> + her face in <span class="sc">Brangaene's</span> breast.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span> (to <span class="sc">Iseult</span> +laughingly).<br> He'll liken thee<br> + Unto his wench!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Why +dost thou hesitate?<br> + I grant thee jester's freedom, Fool. Begin!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (softly and hesitatingly).<br> + From pedestals white snowy columns rise<br> + Of ivory, draped in softly whispering silk,<br> + That arched, and all immaculate, stretch up,—<br> + The swelling pillars of her body's frame—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> A graceful speech, my +friend. Canst thou go on?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (in rising agitation and +feverish emotion).<br> + Her body is a gleam of silvery light<br> + Cast by the full moon in the month of May<br> + Changed to the snowy marvel of herself.<br> + Thou art a garden wild wherein there grow<br> + Deep purple fruits that stupefy and yet<br> + That make one burn! Thy body is a church<br> + Of rarest marble built—a fairy mount<br> + Where sounds the music of a golden harp;<br> + A field of virgin snow! Thy breasts are buds<br> + Of the most sacred plant that flowering grows<br> + Within the garden,—swelling fruits that wait<br> + To suck the honeyed dew of summer moons!<br> + Thy neck is like a lily's stem! Thy arms<br> + Are like the blossoming branches of a young<br> + And tender almond-tree, directing us<br> + Within that Paradise where rules the chaste<br> + Perfection of thy rounded limbs, enthroned<br> + Within thy wondrous body like a God<br> + Who threatens from on high. Thou art—</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Oh hear<br> + How this impostor talks! The token, fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (softly, trembling and +feverishly).<br> + Below the left breast of this master-piece<br> + Of His creation God has set his mark—<br> + A darkened cross—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (hoarsely).<br> O seize +the knave! The cross<br> + Is there.—She bears the mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Christ save my soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>I feel an awful dread of +this strange fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span> (drawing).<br> + I'll run him through the body with my sword!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. (tears the sword from his +hand, and springs<br> + upon the bench).<br> + Take heed unto thyself! Come not too near!<br> + I'll tear thee like a beast.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +His words are not<br> + So marvelously strange. Hast thou forgot,<br> + King Mark, that once, before a heaped up pyre<br> + Thou bad'st me stand, stark naked and exposed<br> + Unto the rabble's gaze? It well may be<br> + That this low jester cast his shaming eyes<br> + Upon me then.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Saw'st thou +the Queen when she<br> + Stood on the burning pile?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I saw the Queen;<br> + I stood beside her there!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> +Behold, that sight<br> + Has made him lose his wits!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +Poor witless fool!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +Glare not at me! I'm but a fool, a poor<br> + Mad fool—a wretched fool that wished to tell<br> + You tales to make you laugh!<br> + (Almost screaming.)<br> + For God's sake laugh!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He throws the sword down. It falls clattering<br> + on the floor. The First Guard enters while two<br> + others stand outside the grating with the Strange<br> + Knight.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Whom bring'st thou +there?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> King +Mark, thy messengers<br> + Have found the witnesses that signed the bond<br> + Too late, for in the forest they had caught<br> + A man whom they have sent to thee. The man<br> + Is wounded; when they called on him to stand<br> + He fled. His horse fell dead. They know him not.<br> + He is a stranger in the land.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +How heavily<br> + God's wrath descends upon my head. This blood<br> + I've spilled was innocent!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> +This man is near<br> + His end; his dying wish is to behold<br> + The Queen Iseult. He much desires it.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Gimella</span>. <br> Poor soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Bring in the man. How +things mischance!<br> + My castle is a gruesome place today.<br> + An idiot first, and then a corpse have knocked<br> + To crave admittance to my hall! My Lords,<br> + I pray you to forgive my sins.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Paranis</span>. <br> +There comes<br> + The wounded Knight.</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Knight is led before <span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> + He walks firmly, standing erect.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Knight</span>. <br> —Art +thou Iseult?—Iseult<br> + The Goldenhaired? May God be merciful<br> + Unto thy soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (crouches on the bench, +taking no interest in<br> + what is said). My brother Kuerdin!<br> + Dear friend! In a disastrous hour went<br> + We forth. I pity thee!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Strange Knight turns and looks at<br> + him searchingly.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span> (angrily and oppressed). Will +death not close<br> + Thy mouth, thou cur!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Dost thou +then know this man?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +I've said so, Mark! I'll sit beside him here<br> + Until he dies. I'll be his priest.</p> + +<p class="center"><a name="pix_480" href="#pixRef_480"><img src="images/pg480.png" alt="Approaching_Thunderstorm"></a></p> +<p class="center">APPROACHING THUNDERSTORM</p> + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Knight</span>. <br> +Keep off.<br> + This babbling fool; his chatter shames my death.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Methinks this was the +man I saw at dawn<br> + Today as I rode through the wood, and yet<br> + He bore a shield on which I thought I saw<br> + Lord Tristram's arms.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Unhappy man, who art<br> + Thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Knight</span> (calmly and quietly).<br> + One who knoweth how to die. Lay me<br> + On yonder bench and wrap me in my cloak.</p> +<p class="hang5">[He is laid on the bench near the chimney,<br> + and lies there like an effigy.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (to the First Guard).<br> + Where are his shield and arms?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Knight</span>. <br> +I bore the shield<br> + Of Tristram, Lord of Lyonesse, since we,<br> + For our great love, exchanged our arms. I am<br> + His brother, for my sister is his wife.<br> + Lord Tristram greets thee, Mark.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (to him passionately).<br> +Speak, friend, and put<br> + An end unto the quandary in which<br> + I stand. God shall reward thee soon. Where is<br> + Lord Tristram?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Knight</span> (groaning).<br> + With his wife whom he holds dear.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +Thou liest, brother, yet thou speak'st the truth!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> God mocks me, Lords! God +mocks me!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I will watch<br> + By him and guard his body through the night.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Be still, thou toad! Be +still!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st GUARD</span>. <br> King +Mark, the Knight<br> + Upon his left hand wears a ring—a stone<br> + Rich set in gold. Shall he retain the ring<br> + Upon his hand?—He's dead.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (seizing the ring).<br> +The ring is mine!<br> + I gave it him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span> (striking him).<br> Away! +Thou damned thief!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +The ring is mine, I say. My love once gave<br> + It me and sware thereon; but now I'll give<br> + It as a jester's gift unto the Queen.<br> + I pray thee take the ring, Iseult.</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Iseult</span> takes the ring, looks at it a +moment<br> + and lets it fall. She totters.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Cast not<br> + Away my gift!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Help! Help! +The Queen.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in great agitation).<br> +Oh God,<br> + I pray Thee open now mine eyes, and set<br> + Me free! I know not if I am alive!<br> + There lies a corpse—There stands a ghost and I<br> + Between them, here! I hear a moaning sound<br> + Pass whimpering through the halls—!</p> +<p class="right">[She runs to the stairs.]</p> +<p class="hang4">Let me go up!<br> + Brangaene, come, and thou Gimella, too!</p> +<p class="hang5">[Half way up the stairs she turns.]</p> + +<p class="hang3">Be not too angry with me, Mark, for thou<br> + Hast set a loathsome ghost to mock and jeer<br> + At me to make thee laugh. He makes my heart<br> + Grow cold with horror! Come, my ladies, come!<br> + Stand by me now—this awful game has made<br> + Me shudder. [She hastens up the stairs.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (springs onto the table to +look after her).<br> + Queen Iseult, thou fairest one.<br> + Have pity on my leper's soul!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> +Be still,<br> + Thou croaking raven!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br> Smite +him dead and spit<br> + Upon his corpse!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">2d Baron</span>. <br> Thou +filthy worm!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Lay hold<br> + Upon the jester! Hold him fast. Thou fool,<br> + Thou base-born cur, how dar'st thou vex my wife<br> + So bitterly with thy presumptuous wit?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +Mark, heed thy words!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Knight</span> (catching his wrists from +behind).<br> + I have the knave!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +The Guards<br> + Shall whip the rogue for his bold impudence,<br> + And cast him from the castle gates. Let loose<br> + The dogs upon him if he does not run,<br> + And leave my walls as though they were on fire!<br> + Away with him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (in greatest haste and +agitation).<br> + King Mark, oh good King Mark,<br> + Behold, he is my brother in my kind,<br> + A much abused and crazy fool who means<br> + No evil with his foolish jests! See now<br> + How pitiful his mien! He strove to make<br> + Thee laugh in his poor way as I in mine.<br> + Forgive the knave, and drive him not away<br> + Into the darkness like a snarling cur<br> + That whines about the house! He hungers, too,<br> + For thou hast given him naught to eat or drink<br> + Since he has been beneath thy kingly roof.<br> + I am an old, old man, King Mark; he is<br> + My brother, and a jester like myself;<br> + I pity him! I pray thee let me keep<br> + Him here with me until tomorrow's morn,<br> + That he may sleep with me within my bed.<br> + Then, when the sun shall shine upon his road,<br> + He shall depart and seek a dwelling place.<br> + 'Twas thou thyself encouraged him to jest;<br> + Judge then thy guilt and his with equal eye.<br> + He is a fool, a crazy, blundering fool,<br> + Yet drive him not away! I pray thee let<br> + Him sleep beside me here a while that he<br> + Refresh himself! He looks so pitifully!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> Why, Ugrin, friend, 'tis +new for thee to act<br> + The part of charity!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> I +serve thee, Mark,<br> + With foolishness and jests—and thou but knowest<br> + Me by my services.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +I still can make<br> + One person glad tonight! Keep, then, thy fool<br> + But thou stand'st surety for him if he should<br> + Attempt to burn the castle or to do<br> + Some other mischief in his madness.</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Knight lets the Strange Jester go; he<br> + crouches on the dais.] + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> +Mark,<br> + Thou art indeed my dear, kind, cousin, still!<br> + Good-night, fair cousin, go and sleep. Thou needst<br> + It sorely—and—I pray that thou forget<br> + Not my new wisdom!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span>. <br> +Sirs, I wish you all<br> + A restful night for this has been a day<br> + Of many cares and many tribulations.<br> + Tomorrow shall we bury this brave Knight<br> + With all the honors due his noble rank,<br> + For he was innocent.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ganelun</span>. <br> Sleep +well. King Mark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">1st Baron</span>. <br>May God watch o'er thee, +Mark!</p> +<p class="hang5">[The Barons go up the stairs; the Knights<br> + and guards go out. The servants extinguish<br> + all but a few of the lights.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Mark</span> (on the stairs).<br> +Come, Dinas, come<br> + With me, and we will watch a little while.<br> + My heart is sorrowful tonight!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Dinas</span> (following him up the stairs).<br> +I'll stay<br> + With thee until the morning break if thou<br> + Desire it so.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span> (calling after them).<br> And +cousins take good heed<br> + Ye catch not cold!</p> +<p class="hang5">[They leave the stage, the moon shines<br> + through the grating, and the shadow of<br> + the bars falls into the hall. The Strange<br> + Jester crouches motionless. <span class="sc">Ugrin</span> turns<br> + to him.]</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE VI</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Ugrin</span>. <br> Ay, so they are! "Whip, +whip the fool!" We wrack<br> + Our weary brains to make a jest and then,<br> + In payment, we are whipped if they so feel<br> + Inclined! They treat us more like dogs than men!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He goes to the table where the food stands,<br> + and takes a bite.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Art hungry, brother? Wait, I'll bring my cloak.<br> + For thou art cold.</p> + +<p class="hang5">[He draws a cloak from under the stairs.]</p> +<p class="hang4">'Tis here, beneath the stairs,<br> + I sleep.—A very kennel! 'Tis a shame.</p> +<p class="right">[He eats again.]</p> +<p class="hang4"> + Wilt thou not eat a morsel of what's left<br> + Upon the table here? Nor drink a drop?<br> + 'Tis not forbidden, friend; our cousin lets<br> + Us eat and drink of what is left.</p> + +<p class="hang5">[He goes into the middle of the hall and<br> + bends down to look into the Strange<br> + Jester's face.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Art sad<br> + Dear brother? Speak to me! Come, + come, look not<br> + So sorrowful!</p> + +<p class="hang5">[Bending over the corpse of the dead<br> + Knight.]</p> + <p class="hang4">This man is colder still<br> + Than thou! Art thou afraid? He'll not awake.</p> + +<p class="right">[Comes close to the Strange Jester.]</p> + <p class="hang4">I'll wrap thee close within my cloak that thou<br> + May'st sleep. Dost thou not wish to sleep!<br> + Why then I'll sing a song to make thee sleep. Alas!<br> + I know but joyous, silly songs! Come lay<br> + Thee down.</p> + +<p class="hang5">[He sits on the bench and draws the head<br> + upon his lap.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Thou look'st not happy, brother. Hast<br> + A sorrow? Tell it me; here canst thou rest<br> + At ease, and I will sing a song. Thou seemst<br> + A child to whom one must sing songs to make<br> + It sleep. I'll sing the song that Queen Iseult<br> + Is wont to sing at even when she thinks<br> + Of Tristram, her dear friend, sitting beside<br> + Her open casement. 'Tis a pretty song.</p> + +<p class="hang5">[With bowed head and closed eyes he hums<br> + very softly as if in his sleep. The body<br> + of the Strange Jester under the black<br> + cloak that covers it is shaken by sobs<br> + of anguish.]</p> + <p class="hang4">"Lord Tristram, my friend, is unfaithful,<br> + And God's wrath on him shall descend;<br> + Though cruelly he has betrayed me—"</p> + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>ACT V</h2> +<br> +<p class="hang1">Same as Act IV.—The first glow of dawn shines through the +grated door and windows, becoming brighter until the end of the Act. The Strange +Jester sits cowering on the steps of the dais. <span class="sc">Brangaene</span> +comes hesitatingly down the steps; she carries an oil-lamp in her hand.</p> + + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE I</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (her voice is muffled by +fear).<br> + Art thou still here, thou ghastly being? Ghost<br> + Of awful midnight hours?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Brangaene I<br> + Am here, and here I shall remain.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (looking for something on the +ground).<br> + Methought<br> + King Mark had paid thy jests with whips and had<br> + Then driven thee away; and yet thou sitst<br> + Here in the self-same place and starest still<br> + With blear'd and fish-like eyes. Dost thou not know<br> + That day is come? Fool, if thou hast a heart<br> + Through which the warm blood flows, I pray thee go!<br> + Go ere the Queen come down and see thee here!<br> + Begone!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +What seekest thou?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> +I seek the ring;<br> + The ring that Queen Iseult let fall last night.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +The ring is mine; I picked it up!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (angrily).<br> +Iseult<br> + Desires the ring! Str. Jester. I will not give it up!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> The Queen will have thee +hung unless thou give<br> + The ring to her. She wants the ring!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Iseult<br> + Received the ring; she cast my gift away,<br> + As she threw me away. I'll keep it now.<br> + But if she wishes it so earnestly<br> + Let her then come and beg the ring of me.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Audacious knave! How +vauntest thou thyself!<br> + Give me the ring, and then begone, thou fool,<br> + Ere Mark awake!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + To Queen Iseult herself<br> + I'll give the ring, and to none else. She shall<br> + Not let me die in misery as she<br> + Desires God may help her in her grief!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (going up the stairs).<br> + Thou fool, may God's damnation strike thee dead,<br> + Thou and Lord Tristram for the night that's passed!<br> + I'll bring thy words into the Queen that she<br> + May have thee slain in secret by Gwain!</p> + +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE II</h2> + +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> disappears above; the Strange +Jester cowers motionless, his head buried in his hands. After a moment <span class="sc"> +Iseult</span>, in a white night robe, comes down the stairs with <span class="sc"> +Brangaene</span>. She steps close in front of the Jester, who does not move. <span class="sc"> +Brangaene</span> remains on the lowest step, leaning against the post of the +bannister.</p> +<br> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Thou gruesome fool, art +thou some bird of prey.<br> + Some wolf that comes to feed upon my soul?<br> + Wilt thou not go? Why liest thou in wait<br> + For me here in the dawning light like some<br> + Wild beast that waits its quarry?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (looking up heavily).<br> +Queen Iseult!<br> + Oh dearest, fairest, sweetest one!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +How dar'st<br> + Thou call me by such names! My boiling blood<br> + Turns cold and shudders! Go!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (groaning softly).<br> +Where, lady, can<br> + I find a sea whose endless depths are deep<br> + Enough to drown my bitter misery?<br> + Where? Tell me where, and I will go.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Go where<br> + Thou wilt, so it be far away—so far<br> + That the whole world shall sever thee and me,<br> + And shall divide me from thy woe! My soul<br> + Bleeds like an unheal'd wound when thou art near.<br> + As though thou wert its murderer, and lo,<br> + 'Twill bleed to death from thy propinquity,<br> + Thou fool! Hence, go, but give me first the ring<br> + Thou stol'st last night and which in wanton jest<br> + Thou torest from the hand of yon dead Knight.<br> + It is Lord Tristram's ring.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Ay, Queen Iseult,<br> + The ring is his—above all other things<br> + He values it!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Give me +the ring, else shalt<br> + Thou die! I'll have thee slain, I swear, as sure<br> + As I have suffered all this night such pangs<br> + As suffered Mary at the cross of Christ.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (standing up).<br> + The ring is mine! I gave it yonder man<br> + To cherish like his life.—He's died for thee<br> + And me;—I gave him too my soul to guard<br> + That by this ring he might compel and bring<br> + Thee to me in the wood tonight. Oh, 'twas<br> + An evil hour for us both, Iseult,<br> + That Lord Denovalin rode through the wood<br> + Today. Now, answer me, Iseult, wilt thou<br> + Still keep the oath thou sware to Tristram once?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (fixedly).<br> + I'll break no oath that I have sworn, for God<br> + Has sanctioned all my vows.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Then call I thee,<br> + Iseult the Goldenhaired, in Tristram's name,<br> + And by this ring. [He hands her the ring.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Knowst thou +that oath as well.<br> + Thou ghost!</p> + <p class="center">(Solemnly.)</p> + <p class="hang4">Oh God, here in this hand, grown pale<br> + And hot from resting on my heart all night,<br> + I hold the ring of gold and emerald stone<br> + By which I sware to Tristram to obey<br> + His will, and come to him when one should call<br> + Upon me by this ring and in his name!<br> + Lo, thou hast called upon me; I obey!<br> + What wishest thou of me, thou evil ghost<br> + With hollow sunken eyes? What wouldst thou have.<br> + Thou spectre of the twilight gloom?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + I call<br> + On thee, Iseult, my love, in my distress!<br> + Oh know me now, who was thy lover once!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Thou suck'st my blood!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Thy blood was mine! Thy blood<br> + Was once mine own! It was a crimson trust<br> + reposing in my knightly hands to keep<br> + Irrevocably until Death. And where<br> + Thou goest there go I; and where thou stayst<br> + There stay I too. So spoke thy blood—I come<br> + To claim but what is mine.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in great passion).<br> +What have I done<br> + To thee that thou recountest my past life<br> + As 'twere a mocking song? Who art thou, fool?<br> + Who art thou? Speak? I'm knocking at thy soul<br> + As knocks a dead man's soul outside the gates<br> + Of Paradise! Who art thou, fool? Art thou<br> + Magician? Art thou ghost? Art thou some soul<br> + Forever wandering for some evil deed?<br> + Art thou some faithless lover barred from Heav'n<br> + And Hell eternally, whose punishment<br> + It is to wander restless through the world<br> + Forever begging love from women's hearts?<br> + Did God permit that thou shouldst know what none,<br> + Save only Tristram and myself have known?<br> + That thou shouldst taste of bitter torment still<br> + By thinking thou art Tristram and shouldst thus<br> + Make greater expiation for thy sins?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> +I am a faithless lover who has loved<br> + Most faithfully, Iseult, belovèd one!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Why criest thou my name +unceasingly,<br> + As scream enhungered owls, thou pallid fool?<br> + Why starest thou at me with eyes that tears<br> + And pain have rendered pitiless? I know<br> + Naught of thy grief and am no leech to cure<br> + Thy fool's disease!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Iseult!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in growing agitation).<br> +Shall I shave off<br> + My hair as thou hast done? Shall I too wear<br> + A jester's parti-colored garb? Shall I<br> + Go through the land, and howling in the streets<br> + Bawl out Lord Tristram's name to make the throng<br> + Of greasy knaves laugh? Speak? Is this the cure<br> + Thou needest for thy grief? Does Tristram mock<br> + Me through thy ribald wit? Does he revenge<br> + Himself upon me thus because I loved<br> + Him long before he saw Iseult, the Fair<br> + Whitehanded Queen, and gave my soul and blood<br> + To him? In scornful and in bitter words<br> + Has he revealed our secret love to thee?<br> + Has he betrayed me to his wife? Art thou<br> + In league with her? Has her black spirit sent<br> + Thee here to torture me by raising up<br> + The phantom images of that past life<br> + Which once I knew, but which is dead?<br> + Confess!<br> + And! I will load thee down with precious gifts,<br> + And daily pray for thee! I'll line thy way<br> + With servants and I'll honor thee as though<br> + Thou wert of royal blood where e'er thou art!</p> +<p class="right">[She falls on her knees.]</p> +<p class="hang4"> Release my soul, thou fool, before I turn<br> + A fool from very horror and from dread!</p> + + + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (raising her).<br> + Kneel not to me, Beloved One! Arise!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (remains a moment in his arms +and then draws<br> + away shuddering).<br> + When Tristram called, the Heavens echoed back<br> + A golden peal, as echoes through the land<br> + The music of a golden bell; the world rejoiced<br> + And from its depths sprang up sweet sounds of joy.<br> + And with them danced my heart exultingly!<br> + When Tristram stood beside me, all the air<br> + Was wont to quiver with a secret bliss<br> + That made the beasts move 'round uneasily.<br> + The birds sang in the dead of night and so<br> + Betrayed us! Say, who broke the bond that knit<br> + Our kindred souls in one?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Lord Tristram broke<br> + The bond and, faithless, took another wife!<br> + Oh see, Iseult, how great the wrong he did<br> + Us both!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (looking at him fixedly).<br> + I hear a raven's croak; I feel<br> + The icy breath of some strange body when<br> + Thou standest burning by my side, thou fool!<br> + Thou pallid ghost!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Yet hast thou oft embraced<br> + These limbs upon the journey o'er the wide<br> + And purple sea along the starry way<br> + Of our great happiness—just thou and I,<br> + Alone in blissful loneliness! And thou<br> + Hast often listened to this voice when it.<br> + In the deep forest, called the nightingales,<br> + Alluring them to sing above thy head,<br> + And like them whispered in thine ears<br> + Soft words that made a wave of passion flow,<br> + Sweet and voluptuous, through thy burning veins!<br> + Iseult, shall I repeat those words? Wilt thou<br> + Again go wandering through the world<br> + With singing blood that makes our hearts beat high<br> + In perfect unison of love, with souls that dream<br> + In silent happiness?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Lord Tristram's steps<br> + Beside me made my blood soar heavenward<br> + And bore me up until the earth bowed down,<br> + And bent beneath our feet like surging waves,<br> + And carried us like lofty ships that sail<br> + To victory!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Ay, Ay, Iseult, 'Twas so we walked!<br> + Iseult, art thou still mindful of the day<br> + When, hawk on fist, we galloped o'er the downs,<br> + For Mark was with Lord Dinas on that day?<br> + Dost thou remember how I lifted thee<br> + From thy good steed and placed thee on mine own,<br> + And held thee close embraced, while thou didst cling<br> + To me like some fond child.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +And Tristram, bold<br> + In the intoxication of his love,<br> + Let go the reins, and gave his horse the spurs,<br> + Till, like an arrow in full flight, it clove<br> + The golden air and bore us heavenward!<br> + How often have I dreamed of that wild ride.<br> + And now with Isot of the Fair White Hands<br> + He rides, as formerly with me—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + And shall<br> + I sing to thee, Iseult the Goldenhaired,<br> + The lay of that White-handed wife who sits<br> + And grieves by day and night? It is the sad<br> + And sombre song of my great guilt. Her eyes<br> + Are red from weeping—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Ay, and mine are red<br> + From weeping too! Fool, Fool, why mock'st thou me?<br> + But since thou knowst so much of Tristram, tell<br> + Me this; why did Lord Tristram marry her—,<br> + This Isot of the Fair White Hands?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (slowly and painfully).<br> +There plays<br> + About her mouth a silver smile; this smile<br> + Enchanted him one lonely night. But, when,<br> + At cold gray dawn, he heard her called Iseult<br> + He nigh went mad with sorrow and with joy<br> + From thinking of the real Iseult—of her,<br> + The Goldenhaired—the beautiful, about<br> + Whose mouth there plays a golden smile. Then, sick<br> + At heart, and weary of this life, he wished<br> + To die, until his sorrow drove him here,<br> + To Cornwall, once again to see his love<br> + Before he died and, face to face stand once<br> + Again with her!—The rest thou knowest well.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (angrily).<br> + Ay, fool, I know the rest, and I know too<br> + That for these black and loathsome lies of thine<br> + There's one reward!—And that is death! I'll put<br> + An end to my great suffering! If thou<br> + Art Tristram thou shalt live, and, in mine arms,<br> + That yearn for Tristram, thou shalt find a hot<br> + And passionate forgetfulness of cool<br> + And silver smiles thou fledest from! If thou<br> + Hast lied no longer shalt thou dream at night<br> + Of golden and of silver smiles!</p> + <p class="center">(To <span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. )</p> + <p class="hang4">Go fetch<br> + The key, Brangaene, of the upper + cell!</p> +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (horrified).<br> + Iseult, what wouldst thou do?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Obey me, girl!<br> + Now listen, spectre, to my words. There lives<br> + Within these walls a hound who has become<br> + A wild and raging beast from his great love<br> + For Tristram, once his master. Fool, this dog<br> + Is full as savage as a fierce white wolf<br> + That lusts for human flesh; his food is thrust<br> + Into his cage on sticks. Since Tristram left,<br> + The beast has slain three keepers. Fool, what think'st<br> + Thou of this hound? Would he attack and tear<br> + Lord Tristram like a wolf should Tristram chance<br> + To step within his cage?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span> (rising, tall, determined, +and noble).<br> + Oh Queen Iseult—!<br> + Oh Queen Iseult—! Old Husdent ever was<br> + My faithful hound—. Let me go to him now.</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (starting back).<br> + Thou knowst his name—!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Str. Jester</span>. <br> + Brangaene, lead the fool.<br> + Obey thy mistress's command. Thou needst<br> + Not lead me to the cage! I know the way.<br> + Give me the key!</p> +<p class="hang5">[He snatches the key from <span class="sc">Brangaene's</span><br> + hand and disappears with long strides<br> + behind the stairs. He is erect and proud.<br> + The two women stand looking at each<br> + other amazed and motionless.]</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2>SCENE III</h2> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Poor +fool, I pity him!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (breaking out passionately).<br> + He must not go! My God, he must not! Call<br> + Him back, Brangaene, call him back!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">The Voice of the Jester</span> (joyfully).<br> +Husdent!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> Oh, hark!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (in increasing fear).<br> + His cry! His dying cry, perhaps!<br> + Brangaene, dearest sister, what thinkst thou<br> + Of this Strange Jester Tramtris?</p> +<p class="hang5">[The women stare at each other without<br> + speaking.]</p> + <p class="hang4">Wilt thou go<br> + And look between the bars?</p> +<p class="hang5">[<span class="sc">Brangaene</span> goes after the Strange +Jester.]<br> + Oh Thou who hast<br> + Created this great world, why didst Thou then<br> + Create me, too?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (reentering in great +excitement).<br> + Iseult! Oh God, Iseult!<br> + Old Husdent's cage is empty, and the fool<br> + With Husdent leapt the wall and they are<br> + gone! [She hastens to the window.]</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> Has he then slain the +dog and fled away?</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span>. <br> + Behold! There goes the fool, and Husdent jumps<br> + And dances round him as he walks and, mad<br> + With joy, leaps howling up and licks his face<br> + And hands!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span> (jumps on to the bench before +the window and<br> + waves her hand joyously).<br> + Oh Tristram, Tristram, thou dear fool!<br> + My dear belovèd friend!—He does not turn!<br> + —Oh call! Oh call him back!—Run! Run! Make haste<br> + To follow him and bring him back! He does<br> + Not hear my voice!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Brangaene</span> (shaking the bars of the +gate).<br> + The gate! my God, the gate!<br> + The guards are still asleep!</p> + +<p class="hang3"><span class="sc">Iseult</span>. <br> +Oh God! I die!<br> + Oh Tristram! Tristram! Tristram! See, he turns<br> + Not back! God is unkind. He loves me not.<br> + I'll bathe thy feet with tears and dry them then<br> + With burning kisses! Tristram! Tramtris, come!<br> + Belovèd fool, turn back! He goes! He's gone!<br> + See how the sun shines on his jester's garb,<br> + And makes his red cloak gleam! How grand, how tall<br> + He is! See! Tristram goes back to the world<br> + Forever now!</p> +<p class="hang5">[She raises herself to her full height—<br> + fixedly.]</p> + <p class="hang4">My friend, Brangaene, my<br> + Belovèd friend was here!</p> + + <p class="hang5">[She sinks back into <span class="sc">Brangaene's</span> + arms.] +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The German Classics, v. 20, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GERMAN CLASSICS, V. 20 *** + +***** This file should be named 31081-h.htm or 31081-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/0/8/31081/ + +Produced by Charles Bowen, from scans obtained from The +Internet Archive. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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