initial commit of ebook 34359HEADmain

1 files changed, 5616 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/34359-8.txt b/34359-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c428b7a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/34359-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,5616 @@
+Project Gutenberg's Morituri: Three One-Act Plays, by Hermann Sudermann
+
+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: Morituri: Three One-Act Plays
+       Teja--Fritzchen--The Eternal Masculine
+
+Author: Hermann Sudermann
+
+Translator: Archibald Alexander
+
+Release Date: November 18, 2010 [EBook #34359]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORITURI: THREE ONE-ACT PLAYS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://www.archive.org/details/moriturithreeone00sudeiala
+
+   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
+
+   3. See footnote 3 explaining correction of printing error.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+                       BOOKS BY HERMANN SUDERMANN
+                  Published By CHARLES SCRIBNER'S Sons
+
+
+The Joy of Living (_Es Lebe das Leben_). A Play in Five Acts.
+Translated from the German by Edith Wharton. _net_ $1.25
+
+Roses. Four One-Act Plays. Translated from the German by Grace Frank.
+_net_ $1.25
+
+Morituri. Three One-Act Plays. Translated from the German by Archibald
+Alexander. _net_ $1.25
+
+                           *   *   *   *   *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                MORITURI
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                MORITURI
+
+                             THREE ONE-ACT PLAYS
+
+                 TEJA--FRITZCHEN--THE ETERNAL MASCULINE
+
+
+                                   BY
+
+                           HERMANN SUDERMANN
+
+
+
+                       TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN
+
+                                   BY
+
+                          ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER
+
+
+
+
+
+                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+                 NEW YORK::::::::::::::::::::::::1910
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          Copyright, 1910, by
+
+                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+                       Published September, 1910
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                CONTENTS
+
+
+      Teja
+
+      Fritzchen
+
+      The Eternal Masculine
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   I
+
+                                  TEJA
+
+                           A DRAMA IN ONE ACT
+
+
+
+
+                                PERSONS
+
+      Teja, King of the Goths.
+      Balthilda, Queen.
+      Amalaberga, her mother.
+      Agila, Bishop.
+      Euric             \
+      Theodemir          >Lords in the former kingdom of the Goths.
+      Athanaric         /
+      Ildibad, spearbearer of the King.
+      Haribalt, a warrior.
+      Two Camp Watchers.
+
+
+
+
+                                  TEJA
+
+
+_The scene represents the King's tent. The curtains are open in the
+background and permit a view through the camp of the Gothic warriors,
+over toward Vesuvius, and the distant sea, which shine in the splendour
+of the setting sun. On the left stands the rudely constructed throne of
+the King. In the centre, a table with seats around it. On the right,
+the King's couch, consisting of skins pieced together; above, a rack
+holding many kinds of weapons. Link torches on the right and left._
+
+
+                             _FIRST SCENE_.
+
+                           TWO CAMP WATCHERS.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Ho thou! Art thou fallen asleep?
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Why should I be fallen asleep?
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Because thou leanest so limber upon thy spear, bent like the bow of a
+Hun.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+I stand so bent, because thus hunger gripes me less.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+'Tis of no avail. It availeth as little as thy belt. Afterward, in
+standing upright, it is the more severe.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+How long is this to last?
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Until the ships come--that is simple indeed.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Yea, but when are the ships coming?
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+How can I know that? Look toward the heights. There, high upon the
+Milchberg, there standeth the watch, and overlooketh the sea for twenty
+miles. If he knoweth not! There, behind the Misenian hills, there they
+must be coming.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Verily, if the Byzantian let them pass.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+The Byzantian hath no ships.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+The Byzantian hath so many ships that he can surround the whole Italian
+world with them as with a hedge; as close as the Byzantian Eunuch hath
+surrounded us, these seven weeks.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+These seven weeks!
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Knowest thou what I got for nourishment, at noon this day? The same
+rind of bacon on which I brake my teeth eight days ago. Forsooth, I had
+cut my three crosses, with my knife. That was a meeting again! But
+to-day, I devoured it ... a noble feast for a king's marriage day!
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Think'st thou the King had more?
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+And think'st thou we would suffer ourselves to be beaten to death,
+suffer ourselves to be broken on the wheel, to be thrust through and
+put to shame, if he had more than we? Think'st thou we would lie here
+like chained dogs, and watch, did we not know that there is nothing to
+watch?
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+There is gold enough.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Gold! Pah, gold! Of gold I have enough myself. In my cellar at
+Canusium, I have buried a treasure--eh! ... thou! The wives behind
+there in the Wagenburg must have meat left ... wine too, they must
+still have.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Yea, the wives are there well enough--thou hast none, I suppose.
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+A Greek dishonoured mine, and I stabbed him to death! (_Pauses_.) Good!
+The wives must have meat; they must have wine too. But how long that--
+(_Noise and clash of weapons, slowly approaching_.) There, the marriage
+is surely ended.
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Silence! There cometh the aged Ildibad--with the King's shield. (_Both
+put themselves on guard_.)
+
+
+                            _SECOND SCENE_.
+
+                           THE SAME. Ildibad.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+(_Hangs the shield in its place, and puts away the weapons lying
+about_.) Hath any news been sent down?
+
+                          First Camp Watcher.
+
+Nay!
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Are ye hungry?
+
+                          Second Camp Watcher.
+
+Oh, yea.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Hunger is for women--mark ye that! And show not such dark faces to our
+young Queen. That becometh not a marriage day.
+
+
+                             _THIRD SCENE_.
+
+_Surrounded by noisy people_, Teja _and_ Balthilda _have appeared in
+front of the tent. They enter led by_ Bishop Agila. _Before them, two
+choir-boys swinging censers. Behind them_, Amalaberga, Euric,
+Athanaric, Theodemir, _and other lords and military leaders. The tent
+covers are let down. Exeunt the watchers_.
+
+(Bishop _lets go the hands of the bridal pair, and turns back to_
+Amalaberga.)
+
+(Teja _stands gloomy and brooding_. Balthilda _casts a shy imploring
+look around her. Painful silence_.)
+
+                          Ildibad (_softly_).
+
+Now must thou say something, King, to welcome thy young wife.
+
+                            Teja (_softly_).
+
+Must I? (_Taking one of the choir-boys by the nape of the neck_.) Not
+so vehemently, boy; the smoke cometh up into our nostrils. What dost
+thou when thou wieldest not thy censer?
+
+                                  Boy.
+
+I wield my sword, King.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+That is right. But make ye haste with wielding the sword, or ye may
+easily be too late. (_Softly_.) Nothing to be seen of the ships,
+Ildibad?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Nothing, my King. But thou must speak to thy young wife.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yea ... so now I have a wife, Bishop?
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Here standeth thy wife. King, and waiteth on thy word.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Forgive me, Queen, if I find not this word. I have been brought up in
+the midst of battles, and other dwelling-place have I not known. It
+will be hard for thee to share this with me.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+King ... my mother ... taught me ... (_She stops_.)
+
+                    Teja (_with assumed kindness_).
+
+And what taught thee thy mother?
+
+                              Amalaberga.
+
+That a wife belongeth to her husband--above all, in the hour of
+distress; she taught her that, King.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+That may indeed be true and holy to ye wives.... If only the husband
+also belonged to his wife in the hour of distress. And yet one thing,
+Amalaberga. It hath been told me that in the morning, cocks crow near
+ye wives yonder in the Wagenburg. For weeks, the warriors have eaten no
+meat. I counsel ye, give them the cocks. (Amalaberga _bows_.)
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+My King!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Heh! Thou hast but now spoken so beautifully at the field-altar,
+Bishop. Dost thou desire to preach so soon again?
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+I will speak to thee, because bitterness devoureth thy soul.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Verily? Thou thinkest it? Then I give ear.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Behold, like the spirit of divine wrath, so hast thou risen up among
+us, young man.... Not thy years did the nation count, only thy
+deeds.... Old men bowed willingly to thy youth, and since thou hadst
+yet a long time to serve, as one of the humblest, wert thou already our
+ruler. From the golden throne of Theoderic, where mercy had sat in
+judgment, where Totilas bestowed pardon with a smile, rang out sternly
+thy bloody word ... And woe clave to us as a poisoned wound.... Pursued
+hither and thither beneath the hot outpourings of Vesuvius, we are now
+encamped with women and children; while Byzantium, with its hireling
+soldiers, holdeth us surrounded.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+That it surely doth, ha, ha! Not a mouse can come through.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Our gaze wandereth wistfully seaward: for thence hath God promised us
+bread.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+No tidings of the ships?
+
+                           Ildibad (softly).
+
+Nothing.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Before we armed ourselves for a new war with misery, as free men, true
+to the ancient law, we determined to choose thee a wife, for in his own
+body should the King taste why the Goth loveth death.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Found ye that your King loved life overmuch?
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+My King!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Nay, that dared ye not, for every hour of this life would hold ye up to
+mockery.... And even if the ancient law required it, why must ye weld
+me with this young thing which, trembling for fear before me and ye,
+hideth in her mother's skirts? And especially on so fitting a day, when
+hunger doth furnish the marriage music.... Look upon me, Queen--I must
+call thee by thy title of a half-hour, for, by God! I hardly yet know
+thy name. I pray thee, look upon me! Dost thou know me?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Thou art the King, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yea. But for thee I should be man, not King.... And knowest thou what
+manner of man standeth here before thee?... Behold! These arms have
+been hitherto plunged in reeking blood, not the blood of men shed in
+manly strife, I speak not of that, that honoureth the man--blood of
+unarmed pale children, of--(_shudders_)--Thou shalt have great joy, if
+I come with these arms to wind them about thy neck.... Dost thou indeed
+hear me? Have I not a beautiful voice, a sweet voice? Only it is a
+little hoarse. It is weary with screaming loud commands to murder....
+Peculiar pleasure shall be thine when thou hearest tender words with
+this bewitching hoarseness. Am I not truly a born lover? These wise men
+knew that; therefore they taught me my calling.... Or believe ye, it
+was your duty to beguile your King in the weariness of camp life; as
+the great Justinian dallied in golden Byzantium, and sent forth his
+eunuchs to slay Gothic men? Ha, ha, ha!
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+My King, take heed lest thou be angry.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I thank thee, friend. Yet that signifieth nothing. It is but my
+marriage humour.... But now I will speak to ye in earnest--(_Ascends to
+the high seat of the throne_.) On the golden throne of Theoderic, where
+mercy sat in judgment, can I, alas! not take my place; for that is
+being chopped into firewood at Byzantium.... Neither smiling like
+Totilas can I pardon, for no one longer desireth our pardon.... From
+the glorious nation of the Goths, there hath sprung a horde of hungry
+wolves therefore it needeth a wolf as master. Thou, Bishop, didst call
+me the spirit of divine wrath, which I am not.... I am but the spirit
+of your despair. As one who all his life hath hoped for nothing, hath
+wished for nothing, I stand before you, and so I shall fall before you.
+That ye knew, and therefore ye are wrong, ye men, to reproach me
+secretly. Contradict me not!... I read it clearly enough between your
+lowering brows.... Because it goeth ill with us, make not a scapegoat
+of me--that I counsel ye.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+King, wound us not.... The last drop of our blood belongeth to thee.
+Cast us not into the pot with these old men.
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+We old men fight as well as they; and love, young man, as well as they.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Then let that suffice. Your Queen shall soon enough learn how, in
+misfortune, friends quarrel among themselves. And as ye pass through
+the camp, tell the warriors, the only thing that frets the King this
+day this day of joy, is it not?--is that he hath not the power to offer
+them a worthy marriage feast ... or yet perchance-- Ildibad.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+(_Who on the right has secretly spoken in bewilderment to a watcher who
+has just entered_.) Yea, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+What have we still in our stores, old man?
+
+                  Ildibad (_controlling his emotion_).
+
+Truly, thou hast given away almost all thy provisions.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I ask thee, what remaineth?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+A jar of fermented milk, and two stale crusts of bread.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ha, ha, ha! Now thou seest, Queen, what a poor husband thou hast got.
+Yet if the ships be there, as the people say, then will I do royal
+honours to every one, even as is his due. Yet tell it not, that would
+mar their joy. But if they hear the trumpets sound, then tell them
+there will be meat and wine on the long tables, so much as--
+
+(_To_ Ildibad, _who glides across the stage to his side_) What is it?
+
+                          Ildibad (_softly_).
+
+The watch departeth. The ships are lost.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Without the least change of countenance_.) Lost--how--in what way?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Treason.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yea, verily! Yea--meat and wine so much as each one will, at long white
+tables--I shall have it divided--and Sicilian fruits for the women, and
+sweetmeats from Massilia. (_Sinks reeling upon the seat of the throne,
+and gazes absently into the distance_.)
+
+                                The Men.
+
+What aileth the King? Look to the King!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Surely he is hungry, mother. (_Approaches him. The men draw back_.) My
+King!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Who art thou, woman? What wilt thou, woman?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Can I help thee, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ah, it is thou, the Queen! Pardon me; and pardon me, also, ye men.
+(_Rises_.)
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+King, thou must husband thy strength.
+
+                               Theoderic.
+
+Yea, King, for the sake of us all.
+
+                                The Men.
+
+For the sake of us all.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+In truth, ye warn me rightly. Women, I pray ye, return to your
+encampment. We have to take counsel. Do thou, Bishop, see well to their
+safe conduct.
+
+                         Amalaberga (_softly_).
+
+Make thy obeisance, child!
+
+                         Balthilda (_softly_).
+
+Mother, will he speak no more to me?
+
+                              Amalaberga.
+
+Make thy obeisance! (_Balthilda obeys_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Fare ye well! (_Exeunt_ Balthilda, Amalaberga, Bishop. _Shouts of
+applause without, greet them_.)
+
+
+                            _FOURTH SCENE_.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Theodemir. Euric. Ildibad. The Watcher. The Lords.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I have sent away the women and the priest; for what comes now
+concerneth us warriors alone. Where is the watcher? Come forth, man.
+
+                          The Men (muttering).
+
+The watcher from the hill! The watcher!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Hereby ye know, men: the ships are lost. (_Tumult. Cries of horror_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Quiet, friends, quiet! Thy name is Haribalt.
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+Yea, Sire!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+How long hast thou stood at thy post?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+Since early yesterday, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Where are thy two companions?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+They remain above, as thou hast commanded, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Good, then what saw ye?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+The smoke of Vesuvius, Sire, descended upon the sea, beyond the
+promontory of Misenum. Thus we saw nothing until to-day about the sixth
+hour of the evening. Then suddenly the ships appeared five in number
+quite near the shore, there where it is said a city of the Romans lies
+buried in ruins.... One of us determined to hasten away, since----
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Stay! What signal bare the ships?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+The foresail bound crosswise and----
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+A palm branch at the stern.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ye saw the palm branch?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+As I see thee, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Good, go on.
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+Then we perceived that the fishing-boats with which the Byzantians take
+their food, closely surrounded the ships, and then----
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+What then?
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+Verily, Sire, they steered quite peaceably toward the camp of the
+enemy. There they unloaded. (_The men cover their heads. Silence_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Who looks, smiling, from one to the other_.) It is good.... That is:
+thou shalt say nothing there without.... From me they should learn it.
+(_Exit Watcher_.)
+
+
+                             _FIFTH SCENE_.
+
+       TEJA. THEODEMIR. EURIC. ATHANARIC _and the_ OTHERS. LORDS.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Your counsel, ye men!
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Sire, we have none to give.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And thou, Euric, with all thy wisdom?
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+Sire, I have served the great Theoderic. And yet he would have had none
+to give.
+
+                                 Teja.
+Come then, I know.... It is easy and quick to be understood: Die!...
+Why look ye at me with such mistrust?... Do ye not yet understand me?
+Think ye I require ye to wrap yourselves in your mantles, like cowardly
+Greeks, and beg your neighbours for a thrust in the back? Be calm:
+I will protect you against shame, since I can no more lead you to
+honour.--Our place here cannot be taken, so long as thirty of us have
+power to wield our spears. But the hour shall come--and at no distant
+time--when the last arm, crippled by hunger, can no more be
+outstretched to beg quarter of the invading murderers.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+No Gothic man doeth that, King!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+For what thou art, thou canst give surety; for what thou shalt become,
+thou givest no surety to me. So I counsel and command ye to prepare
+yourselves for the last conflict. In the first gray of the morning, we
+shall burst forth from the clefts, and array ourselves against the
+Byzantian in open field.
+
+                                  All.
+
+Sire, that is impossible.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+King, consider, we are one against a hundred.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And thou, Euric?
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+Sire, thou leadest us to destruction.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yea, verily. Said I anything else? Do ye believe me to be so untried in
+things of war that I know not that? Why then halt ye? When Totilas led
+us, we were more than a hundred thousand. Now we are but five. They all
+knew how to die, and can we, a miserable remnant, have forgotten it?
+
+                                  All.
+
+Nay, King, nay!
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+Sire, grant us time to accustom ourselves to that horrible thing.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Horrible? What seemeth horrible to ye? I speak not indeed to Romans who
+reel from the mass to the lupanar, and from the lupanar to the mass.
+Yet there is not one among ye whose breast is not covered with scars
+like an old stone with moss. These twenty years ye have made sport of
+death, and now it cometh in earnest, doth a Gothic man speak of
+"horrible"? What will ye? Will ye lie and hunger? Will ye devour one
+the other, like rats? Good. But I shall not do it with ye! Not I!
+To-morrow, I take spear and shield, and go to gain on my own account
+the bit of death for which I long and languish like a thief since ye
+made me leader of your lost cause.--And thou at least, my old
+companion, thou comest with me--eh?
+
+                  Ildibad (_falling down before him_).
+
+I thank thee, Sire! Why ask whether I come!
+
+                                  All.
+
+We too, King. We all, we all!
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Thou shouldst be praised, King, that thou hast pointed to us the way of
+happiness. And be not angry with us, if we were not able straightway to
+follow thee. Now I perceive clearly thy great thought. From grief and
+discord and despair, we rise, we do not go down to death.... Laughing,
+treadeth each on the other's corpse, in order laughing to sink down
+like him.... A light will go forth from us over the wide world.... Ah,
+that will be a draught from golden goblets--that will be a riot of
+exultant joy. Thank thee, my King. Often have I envied thee thy crown,
+now I venture to envy it no more.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+The thing will come to pass for the most part otherwise than thou dost
+imagine it, Theodemir. Yet I am glad that among the Goths, such
+inspiration still abideth.
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+Also to me, King, grudge not a word; for I have indeed seen golden
+days.... Thou art not only the boldest, thou art also the wisest of
+all.... Had we now faltered, so should we all have fallen without
+defence, by the murderer's sword ... And not only we, but the sick--and
+the children--and the wives.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ay, indeed, the wives! Of them I had not thought at all.
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+But now to-morrow, we shall stand in battle, and on the second and
+third day, if we hold out so long, so that astonishment and fear at the
+miracle will lay hold on the Byzantian and all the rabble of Huns and
+Suevians which he draggeth after him.... We cannot utterly destroy
+them, but we can bait them with our blood till they be weary.... And
+when no one on that side is able to hold spear and bow, then shall the
+hour come when the Eunuch will have it said: "Depart in peace." How
+many of ye are then still left? I fear not many----
+
+                           Teja (_laughing_).
+
+We, surely not!
+
+                      All (_with cruel laughter_).
+
+Nay, we surely not!
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+Then shall they take wives and children into the midst of them, and,
+head high, with naked swords, descend straight through the Byzantian
+camp toward Naples, to buy a piece of bread. And I tell ye, with such
+fear shall they be gazed at, that not even once shall a dog of the Huns
+dare to bark at them.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Wife and child! Wife and child! What have we to do with them?
+
+                               Athanaric.
+
+King, thou revilest the dearest of our possessions.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Maybe!--I know only that there were too many mouths in the morning when
+the rations were divided. Otherwise we might have been able to support
+ourselves. And yet, this one thing I say to ye--and I shall enjoin it
+on the men without, upon their word as warriors--that none of the women
+know aught of our purpose. I will not that even one man be softened by
+the tears and cries of women.
+
+                               Athanaric.
+
+Sire, that is inhuman which thou requirest, to take no leave of our
+wives.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Take leave of them, me notwithstanding, but remain dumb as ye do it. He
+that hath wife and child here, let him go to the Wagenburg, and provide
+himself food and drink, for the women delight to keep a remnant between
+their fingers. This let him share with the unmarried, and be joyful
+when he can.
+
+                                 Euric.
+
+And what should they say to their wives, Sire, since already thou hast
+strictly forbidden communication?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Say ye, it happens because of my marriage! Or the ships are there, if
+that sounds more worthy of belief. Say what ye will. Only that one
+thing, keep for yourselves.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+And wilt thou thyself nevermore see thy young wife?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Eh? Nay.... I mark not the least desire to. Surely now I shall speak to
+the people. I would that I had thy tongue, Theodemir.--The errand is
+troublesome to me, for I should speak great words, and I feel them not.
+Come! (_Exeunt all, with_ Ildibad _slowly following_.)
+
+
+                             _SIXTH SCENE_.
+
+
+_The stage remains unoccupied for a short time. The voice of the King
+is heard, who is received with acclamation. Then after a few seconds,
+subdued cries of woe_. Ildibad _returns and sits down upon a stump near
+the curtain. Then he lights two torches which he puts into the links,
+and prepares the weapons of the King. Outside arises a shout of
+enthusiasm, which again is subdued_.
+
+
+                            _SEVENTH SCENE_.
+
+ILDIBAD. BISHOP AGILA (_tottering in with exhaustion and excitement_).
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Wilt thou not be seated, most worthy lord?
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+And goest thou not to hear what the King saith?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+That hath naught to do with me, most worthy lord. The King and I--for a
+long time, we are united in action.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Verily, he standeth there like the angel of death.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Whether angel or devil, it is the same for me. (_The shout of
+enthusiasm rises anew and approaches the tent_.)
+
+
+                            _EIGHTH SCENE_.
+
+     THE SAME. THE KING (_with flaming eyes, pale yet calm_).
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Are the weapons in order?--Ah, 'tis thou, Bishop!
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+King, my King!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Surely, thou shall now be driven to seek another flock, Bishop. Wilt
+thou but give me thy blessing, pray give it quickly.... Theodemir is
+about to come.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+And dost thou know thyself to be free, my son, from the trembling of
+every dying creature?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Bishop, I have been a good servant of thy church. To dedicate her
+temples, as once Totilas did, have I not been able; but what there was
+to kill, I have killed for her welfare. Shall I perform a posture for
+the blessed Arius?
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+My son, I understand thee not.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+For that I am sorry, my father.
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+And hast thou taken leave?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Leave--of whom? Rather have I a mind to cry "welcome"; but yet nothing
+is there!
+
+                        Bishop (_indignantly_).
+
+I speak of thy wife, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+At this hour, I know only men, Bishop. Of wives I know nothing.
+Farewell! (_Enter_ Theodemir _and_ Ildibad.)
+
+                                Bishop.
+
+Farewell--and God be gracious to thy soul!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I thank thee, Bishop.... Ah, there art thou, Theodemir. (_Exit_ Bishop
+Agila.)
+
+
+                             _NINTH SCENE_.
+
+Teja. Theodemir. Ildibad (_in the background, occupied with the King's
+weapons, going noiselessly in and out_).
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+What are the warriors doing?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+They who have their wives here, are gone to the Wagenburg.... There
+they will surely eat and drink and play with their children.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And is thy wife here also?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Yea, Sire!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And thy children?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Two boys, Sire!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And thou didst not go?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+I waited on thy call, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+What hour is it?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+The ninth, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And what do they who are free--the unmarried, and they whose wives are
+not here?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+They lie by the fires and are silent.
+
+                           (_Exit_ Ildibad.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+See to it that something is brought to them also. I already ordered it.
+Will they sleep?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+No one will sleep.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+At midnight, come and fetch me.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Yea, Sire. (_Makes as if to go_.)
+
+                   Teja (_with a shade of anxiety_).
+
+Theodemir, stay!... Thou hast always been my adversary.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+I was, Sire. For a long time I have ceased to be.
+
+                    Teja (_stretches out his arms_).
+
+Come! (_They hold each other in a close embrace; then they clasp
+hands_.) I would fain hold thee here, but truly thou must go to thy
+wife. (Ildibad _again enters_.) And forget not to have food brought to
+those who are gazing at the fires. They should have occupation.
+Brooding profiteth not in such an hour.
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Yea, Sire. (_Exit_.)
+
+
+                             _TENTH SCENE_.
+
+                             TEJA. ILDIBAD.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Now, my old man, we should have nothing further to do upon this earth.
+Shall we talk?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Sire, if I might beg a favour for myself.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Still favours, at this time?... I believe thou wouldst flatter me, old
+companion!
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Sire, I am old. My arm would grow weary with bearing a spear, more
+quickly than is good for thy life. And by my fault shouldst thou not
+fall, Sire.... If no one else sleeps, think not evil of me, and let me
+sleep away the two hours.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_With a new gleam of deep anxiety_.) Go, but not far away.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Surely, Sire, I have always lain as a dog before thy tent. In respect
+of that, on this last night, nothing will be changed.... Hast thou
+orders to give, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Good-night! (_Exit_ Ildibad.)
+
+
+                           _ELEVENTH SCENE_.
+
+TEJA. _Afterward_ BALTHILDA. (TEJA _left alone, throws himself on his
+couch, staring straight before him with a bitter, wearied smile_.
+BALTHILDA _enters shyly. In one hand she carries a basket containing
+meat, bread, and fruits; in the other, a golden tankard of wine. She
+advances a few steps toward the table_.)
+
+                         Teja (_half rising_).
+
+Who art thou?
+
+                   Balthilda (_feebly and timidly_).
+
+Knowest thou me not, King?
+
+                    Teja (_rising from his couch_).
+
+The torches burn dimly.... Thy voice I have heard before!... What wilt
+thou of me?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+I am indeed thy wife, King.
+
+                       Teja (_after a silence_).
+
+And what wilt thou of me?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+My mother sendeth me. I am to bring thee food and wine. The others eat
+and drink, and so my mother saith---- (_She stops_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+How didst thou enter here?... Did not the watch forbid thee to enter?
+
+                   Balthilda (_drawing herself up_).
+
+I am the Queen, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yea, verily. And Ildibad, what said he?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Thy old spearbearer lay and slept. I stepped across him, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I thank thee, Balthilda.... I am not hungry. I thank thee. (_Silence_.
+Balthilda _stands and looks tearfully at him_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I see, thou hast still a request to make of me. I pray thee, speak!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+My King, if I return home with a well-filled basket, then shall I be
+mocked by all the women.... And the men shall say----
+
+                           Teja (_smiling_).
+
+And what shall the men say?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+He esteemeth her so little that--he consenteth not to take food from
+her hand.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+On my word, I assure thee, Balthilda, the men have other things to
+think on ... yet nevertheless ... reproach thou shalt not suffer
+through me. Set thy basket there.... Have ye still much of such things?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, these two weeks have my mother and I and the women about us put
+aside the best of our share--flour and fruits--and the fowls have we
+not killed till this very day.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Then indeed must ye have been mightily hungry, ye women?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Ah, it hath done us no hurt, Sire.... It was for a feast.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+In truth? Ye believed we should celebrate a feast to-day?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Well ... is it then not a feast, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Is silent and bites his nether lip, examining her furtively_.) Wilt
+thou not be seated, Balthilda?... I should not yet let thee go home!
+That too would be a reproach, would it not?
+
+                (Balthilda _is silent and looks down_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And if I bade thee, wouldst thou wish to stay?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, how should a wife not wish to stay beside her husband?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Hast thou then the feeling in thy heart, that I--am--thy--husband?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The Bishop hath joined us together.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And wert thou glad when he did it?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Yea.... Nay, I was not glad then.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Why not?
+
+                  Balthilda (_with a bright glance_).
+
+Perhaps because, because ... I was afraid, Sire, and I was praying.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+What didst thou pray?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+That God would grant to me, his humble handmaid, the power to bring
+thee the happiness which thou needest, and which thou awaitest from me.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Which I from thee--that didst thou pray?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, may I not offer thee the food, and the wine?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Nay, nay!... Hearken, Balthilda: without, by our fires, are
+warriors--they are hungry--I am not hungry.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, give them what thou pleasest ... give them everything!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I thank thee, Balthilda. (_Raising the curtain_.) Ho there, watch! Come
+in, but prudently so as not to wake the old man.... (_Watcher enters_.)
+Here, take this basket with food and wine, and divide it honestly....
+Say your Queen sends it.
+
+                                Watcher.
+
+May I thank the Queen, Sire?
+
+        (Teja _nods_. Watcher _shakes her hand heartily. Exit_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Go--and bring me to eat!
+
+                        Balthilda (_perplexed_).
+
+Sire--why--mockest thou--me?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Dost thou then not understand me? If thou wilt be my wife, thou must
+offer me my property, not thine!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Is not all of mine thy property, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Hm! (_Silence. He takes her hands._) Call me not Sire and call me not
+King.... Knowest thou not my name?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Thy name is Teja!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Say it yet once again!
+
+                  Balthilda (_softly, turning away_).
+
+Teja!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Is the name so strange to thee?
+
+                     (Balthilda _shakes her head_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Then why hesitate?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Not for that, Sire! Since I knew that I was to serve thee as thy wife,
+I have often named thee by day and in the night. Only I never said it
+aloud....
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And before thou knewest it, what was then thy thought?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, why dost thou ask?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And why dost thou not answer?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, when I heard of thy bloody commands, and the others feared
+thee--then I often thought: How unhappy must he be that the destiny of
+the Goths compelleth him to such deeds!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+That hast thou thought?--That hast thou----?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, was it wrong that I should think it?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Thou hadst never seen my face, and thou didst understand me? And they
+who were around me, the wise men and tried soldiers, they understood me
+not!... Who art thou, woman? Who hath taught thee to read my heart?
+Thee, thee alone of all?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire--I----
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+All shuddered and muttering hid themselves from me in corners--and saw
+not the way, the only way which haply might still have saved them. When
+the butcher's knife was already at their throat, they still told
+themselves some tale of compromise. And then came the crafty Greeks,
+measured themselves with them, and killed them one by one. Thus
+perished the hundred thousand. And I wrapped myself in grief and
+anger--I cast hope away from me like a bloody rag, I sprang into the
+breach with scornful laughter. I sowed horrors about me, when my own
+heart was convulsed with horror of myself. I have not once been drunk
+with all the blood. I have killed, killed, and still knew all the
+while: it is in vain! (_He sinks to his seat overcome with anguish, and
+stares straight before him_.)
+
+             Balthilda (_with a shy attempt at a caress_).
+
+My poor dear King! Dear Teja!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Raises his head and looks confusedly around him_.) My God, what do I
+here?... Why do I tell all this to thee? Thou must not despise me
+because I am such a babbler.... Nor must thou believe that it is aught
+of remorse that compels me to this confession.... Perhaps I feel pity
+for the victims, but my conscience stands high above all that!... Far
+higher than my poor Gothic throne.... Look not upon me so.... There is
+in thy eye something that compels me to reveal my inmost thought to
+thee.... Who hath endued thee with this power over me?... Begone!...
+Nay, stay ... Stay! I wish to tell thee yet something, quite in secret,
+before thou goest.... Besides, I should not cry out so, otherwise the
+watch may hear.... Incline thine ear to me. Never yet have I confessed
+it to any man, nor have I held it possible that I should ever confess
+it.... I bear an envy within me which devoureth my heart, whenever I
+think--knowest thou toward whom?... Toward Totilas.... Yea, toward
+Totilas in his grave.... They called him the "shining" Totilas and
+their affection still cleaveth to him to-day.... Their eyes still flash
+when they even think of him.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Ah, Sire, how thou dost fret thyself!
+
+                          Teja (_anxiously_).
+
+Didst thou ever see him?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Never.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+God be thanked! For hadst thou ever seen him as I saw him on the
+morning of the battle in which he fell ... arrayed in golden armour ...
+and the white steed pranced beneath him, and his yellow locks streamed
+like sunlight about him. And he laughed the foe in the face.... Laughed
+like a child!... Ah, laughing to die like him!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+His lot was easy, Sire! He went from hence, but left to thee as an
+inheritance the half-destroyed kingdom.... How shouldst thou then have
+laughed?
+
+                           Teja (_eagerly_).
+
+Is it not so?--Is it not so?--How ... Ah, that doeth good! (_Stretching
+himself_.) Ah, thou doest me good!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+How proud thou makest me, Sire!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+But hadst thou seen him and compared him to me, thou wouldst spit upon
+me!
+
+                        Balthilda (_fervently_).
+
+I should have seen only thee, Sire dear, dear Sire!
+
+(Teja _looks askance at her, shyly and distrustfully, then walks
+silently to the left, sinks down before the seat on the throne, and
+burying his face in the chair, weeps bitterly_.)
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+(_Follows him shyly and kneels down beside him_.) Teja, beloved, if I
+hurt thee, pardon me!
+
+                   Teja (_rises and grasps her arm_).
+
+Tell it to no one!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+What, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+That thou hast seen me weep! Swear it to me!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+It hath been told me that I am now even as a piece of thy body--and of
+thy soul also!... Wherefore should I swear?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+If thou art a piece of my body, then come nearer to me, that thou mayst
+not see my tears.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Let me dry them for thee! See, for this cause am I here.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ah, 'tis well with me.... I must indeed have died of shame, for never
+yet hath a Gothic man been seen to weep. Even when we buried Totilas,
+we wept not.... Yet I am not ashamed.... If I but knew why suddenly it
+is so well with me!... Balthilda, I will tell thee something. But thou
+must not laugh me to scorn.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+How should I laugh at thee, beloved?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I am hungry.
+
+                Balthilda (_springing up in surprise_).
+
+Alas, surely thou hast given everything away!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Oh, by no means! Go just over there, wilt thou? (_She obeys_.) Behind
+my couch--seest thou the fireplace?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Here where the ashes lie?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+There standeth a chest?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Yea.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Wilt thou open the lid?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Ah, it is heavy!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Now feel within! Deep, deep!... There Ildibad the old miser--well?
+
+                     Balthilda (_disappointedly_).
+
+A couple of bread crusts; is that all, Sire?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+There is indeed nothing more.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+May I not then go quickly over to the Wagenburg?... Perhaps still ...
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Oh nay.... They themselves need the fragments.... Bring that hither! As
+brothers we shall share it--eh? And then there is sufficient for both.
+Wilt thou?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Yea. (_She sits beside him_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+So, now give to me! Ah, that is good to the taste! Is it not good to
+the taste? But ah, thou also must eat.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+I fear there is not enough for thee.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Nay, that is against the agreement.... So.... Is it not good to the
+taste?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+To me nothing hath ever tasted half so sweet.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Pray come nearer to me ... I will take the crumbs from thy lap ...
+So--why is it that suddenly I am hungry? See, now we celebrate our
+marriage feast.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+And better than those without, with meat and wine--do we not?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Well, did I not tell thee?... But thou hast a bad seat!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Nay, I am seated well!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Come, stand up! Pray, stand up!
+
+                         Balthilda (_rising_).
+
+Well?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Sit there, just above!
+
+                        Balthilda (_terrified_).
+
+Upon the throne--for God's sake--how dare I----?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Art thou not then the Queen?
+
+                        Balthilda (_decidedly_).
+
+If I must sit there in earnest! But in jest--nay!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ah, the stupid bit of wood! (_He hurls down the throne_.) At least it
+should be of use for something!... So now lean against it!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Beloved, doest thou justly?
+
+                          Teja (_surprised_).
+
+Nay! (_He sets the throne up again, leads her to her former place,
+and places her head against the seat_.) There indeed thou art well
+seated--yea!... And we trespass not against this trash. If the Bishop
+had seen that--he, ha, ha, ha! Wait, I will eat again!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+There, take!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Still--remain quite still! I shall fetch it for myself. (_He kneels
+upon the podium beside her_.) Now I am quite upon my knees before
+thee.... What is there that we do not learn!... Thou art beautiful!...
+I never knew my mother!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Never knew!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Never had a sister.... No one.... Never played in my life.... That I am
+surely learning last not least.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Why last not least?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ask not--nay? Ah thou, thou! Ha, ha, ha! Pray eat! Bite from mine--yea?
+Obediently--thou knowest what the Bishop said?
+
+                Balthilda (_bites and then springs up_).
+
+But wilt thou not also drink?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Ah, surely! Bring me only the milk jar! Bring me only the milk jar....
+Thou knowest the one that Ildibad told us of.
+
+                  Balthilda (_who has walked across_).
+
+Is this the one?
+
+                            Teja (_rising_).
+
+That is indeed it. But thou also must drink.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Is it fitting so?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+I know not. It should be!
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+So be it, then. (_She drinks and shakes with laughter_.) Ugh! That hath
+a bad taste.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Give it to me. (_He drinks_.) Nay! (_He drinks again_.) Go!... Art thou
+then such a despiser of nourishment?... Yea, who art thou then? And how
+comest thou hither? And just what wilt thou of me?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+I will love thee!
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Thou--my wife! Thou ... (_They fly into one another's arms. Softly_.)
+And wilt thou not kiss me?
+
+                (Balthilda _shakes her head, ashamed_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Why not?
+
+                  (Balthilda _again shakes her head_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Yet tell me, why not?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+I will tell thee in thine ear.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Well?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Thou hast a downy beard.[1]
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Wipes his month in terror, then in assumed anger_.) What have I?
+Knowest thou not who I am? How then dost thou suffer thyself to tell
+thy King he--say it yet once more! I will but see.
+
+                        Balthilda (_laughing_).
+
+A--downy--beard.
+
+                           Teja (_laughing_).
+
+Now, wait!
+
+
+                            _TWELFTH SCENE_.
+
+                           THE SAME. ILDIBAD.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Sire, thou calledst? (_He stands rigid with astonishment, and is about
+to retire silently_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Collects himself abruptly. He appears to wake out of a dream. His
+manners and bearing revert to the gloomy energy which previously had
+the ascendency_.) Stop, stay, what happens without?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+The warriors return from the Wagenburg, sire, and most of the wives
+come with them.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Are the leaders assembled?
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Yea, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+They might have patience for a moment more.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Yea, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+For I also have a wife.
+
+                                Ildibad.
+
+Yea, verily, Sire.
+
+                               [_Exit_.]
+
+
+                          _THIRTEENTH SCENE_.
+
+                            TEJA. BALTHILDA.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Teja, beloved, what happeneth to thee?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Remains standing before her and takes her head in his hands_.) To me,
+it is as if in this hour we had strayed hand in hand through a whole
+world of joy and sorrow. That disappeareth--all disappeareth. I am
+again the--I was--nay, I am not he.--But be thou high above all the
+women, the Queen ... Wilt thou?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, what dost thou require of me?
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Thou wilt not entreat and wilt not cry out?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Nay, Sire.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+The day draweth nigh. Before us standeth death.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Sire, I understand thee not. None can attack us, and until the ships
+come----
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+The ships come never more.
+
+(Balthilda _strokes herself on the cheeks, and then stands
+motionless_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+But we men are going forth upon the field, to fight.
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+That can ye not do--that is surely--impossible.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+We must. Art thou the Queen, and perceivest not that we must?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Yea--I--per--ceive--it.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+The King fights in the foremost rank, and we shall see each other no
+more alive.... Knowest thou that?
+
+                               Balthilda.
+
+Yea, I know it!... (_Silence. They look at each other_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Thy blessing will I have upon the way. (_He sinks on his knees before
+her; she lays her hands upon his head, bends down to him, trembling,
+and kisses him on the forehead_.)
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Springs up and tears back the curtain_.) Enter, who waiteth there!
+
+
+                          _FOURTEENTH SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. AMALABERGA, EURIC, AGILA, ATHANARIC, THEODEMIR, _and other
+leaders_.
+
+                              Amalaberga.
+
+King, I sent my child to thee.... I hear ye men have to act.... Give
+her again to me.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+Here hast thou thy child! (_Exeunt_ Amalaberga _and_ Balthilda.)
+
+
+                           _FIFTEENTH SCENE_.
+
+             THE SAME. _Except_ AMALABERGA _and_ BALTHILDA.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+(_Stares after them, rouses himself, and perceives the Bishop_.)
+Bishop, I treated thee basely this evening. Forgive me and have my
+thanks, for surely I also know why the Goth loveth death.... (_Grasps
+his sword_.) Now be ye ready? Have the farewells been said?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Sire, we have disobeyed thy command. Which of our wives betrayed it,
+and which of us told it, that cannot be determined. Enough, they all
+know it.
+
+                                 Teja.
+
+And then have cried ah and woe?
+
+                               Theodemir.
+
+Sire, they have silently kissed the blessing of death upon our brows.
+
+                   Teja (_exclaims half to himself_).
+
+They also! (_Aloud_.) Truly we are a nation of kings. It is our
+misfortune. So come! (_He strides to the background. The others follow.
+Amid the noisy cries of the people greeting the King, the curtain
+falls_.)
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   II
+
+                               FRITZCHEN
+
+                           A DRAMA IN ONE ACT
+
+
+
+
+
+                                PERSONS
+
+      Herr von Drosse, Major (retired), Lord of the Manor.
+      Helene, his wife.
+      Fritz, their son.
+      Agnes, niece of Frau von Drosse.
+      Von Hallerpfort, lieutenant.
+      Stephan, overseer.
+      Wilhelm, servant.
+
+
+
+
+
+                               FRITZCHEN
+
+_The action takes place on Herr von Drosse's estate. Time, the
+present_.
+
+_The scene represents a drawing-room on the ground floor. In the rear
+are wide glass doors which stand open, and permit a view of the terrace
+and splendid park lying beyond. Windows to the right and left. On the
+right side, a sofa with table and chairs; on the left, a secretary with
+writing materials. Handsome old-fashioned decorations, pictures of
+battles, portraits in oval frames, racing prints, etc. The terrace is
+sheltered by a broad awning which slightly subdues the glare of the
+bright summer afternoon._
+
+
+                             _FIRST SCENE_.
+
+Wilhelm (_servant over sixty, in half livery, is engaged in arranging
+the samovar for the afternoon coffee_). Agnes (_extremely slender,
+nervous, with traces of mental distress--twenty years of age--blonde
+hair smoothed on the temples, light muslin gown, a garden hat in her
+hand--enters from the terrace_).
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Wilhelm, has the postman been here?
+
+                          Wilhelm (_sighing_).
+
+Yes, yes, he was here.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Where are the things?
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+They are on the table, Fräulein.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+(_Goes quickly to the table and with feverish haste looks through the
+small pile of newspapers and letters lying there_.) Again, nothing!
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Yes, indeed--and this is the seventh day. Ah, it is really
+heart-breaking.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Are your master and mistress still taking their afternoon nap?
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+I have just heard the Major. He will be here directly--there he is now!
+
+
+                            _SECOND SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. MAJOR VON DROSSE (_about fifty, tall, broad-shouldered,
+rather stout. Dark-grayish full beard parted in the middle, waving
+right and left over his shoulders. In the full, well-browned face with
+flashing eyes and bushy eyebrows, there are energy and abundant
+vitality, controlled by the self-command and chivalric manner of an old
+officer. Brief in speech, domineering, but never without a gleam of
+inner kindness_).
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Afternoon, Agnes!
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Afternoon, uncle!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+(_Goes to the table, examines the letters, sits down and looks straight
+before him for a little while_.) Wilhelm!
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+What does the Major wish?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Stephan is to come at once to the castle.
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Very well, Major. (_Exit_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Agnes, my child, just listen to me ... You are a reasonable creature
+... One that I can talk to.... So the rascal has again not written.
+He should have come to us, day before yesterday. Has made no
+excuses--doesn't write--nothing. That has not happened during the six
+years that he has been away from home. I ordered him most strictly to
+send a letter, or at least a card, every day--for with her illness,
+your aunt must be guarded against the slightest anxiety or excitement.
+He knows that, and moreover has always observed it conscientiously. I
+can't any longer be responsible for your aunt and her weakened heart.
+Unless we use every means to keep her in her--visionary life, she will
+go to pieces.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Uncle!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+We must make up our minds to that, Agnes. Really, I do what I can.
+Yesterday I even forged a telegram to her--you know that, eh! I did
+intend to write to his intimate friend Hallerpfort, but thought better
+of it. I shall drive into town directly after dark. Without your aunt
+knowing it, of course--for now, during the harvest, that would upset
+her still more. So you will stay all night with her, and er--well, the
+rest I will arrange with Stephan.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Very well, dear uncle.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Just come here, girl, look me in the face ... We two know each other
+and ... Eh?
+
+                     (Agnes _casts down her eyes_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Now see, I know very well that for two years you have been secretly
+corresponding with Fritz.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Uncle! (_Presses her hands to her face_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+There, that will do, that will do, that will do.... You can well
+believe, if I had been opposed to it on principle, I should have
+long since put an end to the business, shouldn't I?... But there are
+things--well, in short, that you don't understand. Well, I should not
+have begun about the matter to-day, but necessity knows no law, eh? And
+if I go to see him this evening, I don't wish to grope altogether in
+the dark.... So--on the basis of what has just been said--have you,
+perhaps, by any chance had a letter from him?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+No, uncle!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Hm!
+
+                   Agnes (_hesitating, embarrassed_).
+
+For some time we have not corresponded.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+So?--Ho, ho ...! Who is to blame for that?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Ah, let us not talk about that, uncle. But from another quarter, I have
+had news of him.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+When?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Yesterday.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+And that you have----?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+(_Taking a letter from her pocket_.) Please read--and I think you will
+not reproach me.
+
+                    Major (_unfolding the letter_).
+
+Ah, from the little Frohn! Now then, what does the little Frohn write?
+(_Reads, muttering_.) Lanskis--Steinhof--met cousin--danced (_aloud_).
+Indeed, then he could dance, but not write, that is a nice business--I
+should not have believed it of him at all.... (_Reads further,
+muttering_.) Eyes for the so-called beautiful Frau von Lanski ... The
+whole regiment is talking of it.... Hm! eh, what! Such a goose! What
+things such a goose does cackle!... Regiment has other things to bother
+itself about.... But such a regulation goose ... If a young lieutenant
+like that isn't all the time trotting after them. And when he once
+shows attention to a lady who doesn't belong to the regiment ...
+Besides, the Lanski is nearly forty ... Such idiocy! Then he might at
+least--hm--hm--eh, pardon! Now then, what is it?... My poor old girl
+... Yes, yes, jealousy ... You have borne up disgracefully since
+yesterday.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+I think I have controlled myself, uncle?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Yes, very true, girl, no one has noticed anything.
+
+
+                             _THIRD SCENE_.
+
+        THE SAME. WILHELM. _Afterward_ STEPHAN, _the overseer_.
+
+                  Wilhelm (_entering from the right_).
+
+Herr Stephan is there, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Come in!
+
+                           (_Enter_ Stephan.)
+
+Very well, my dear Stephen, I must drive into town directly after
+dark. Unless I should be detained, I shall be here early to-morrow
+morning--four and a half and four and a half more miles--nine miles....
+The coach horses have been exercised to-day?
+
+                                Stephan.
+
+Yes, indeed, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Which are in better condition now, the browns or the whites?
+
+                                Stephan.
+
+That I don't permit myself to decide, Major. They have all had it
+severely!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, I will just go and have a look myself. Wilhelm--cap!
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Very well, Major. (_Exit to the right_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+And at half after nine this evening, send a message to my wife and have
+her told that I must stay all night at the brick kilns--eh, you
+remember (_softly, looking around at_ Agnes) how we managed it the
+other times when I was out at night.
+
+                                Stephan.
+
+All right, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Where is that fellow stopping with my cap? (_Enter_ Wilhelm.) Where
+were you hiding, man? (Wilhelm _hands him the cap_.) And he is
+tottering on his old legs! What are you tottering so for?
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Indeed I am not tottering, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, come on, Stephan! (_Exeunt_ Major, Stephan, _through the garden
+door_.)
+
+
+                            _FOURTH SCENE_.
+
+        AGNES. WILHELM. _Afterward_ LIEUTENANT VON HALLERPFORT.
+
+                          Wilhelm (_softly_).
+
+Fräulein, just now as I went out, Lieutenant von Hallerpfort was
+standing there and wished to speak with Fräulein, privately. Neither
+the master nor the mistress is to know anything of it ... God, Fräulein
+is deadly pale!
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Ask the lieutenant to come in, and keep a lookout, if my aunt comes.
+
+(Wilhelm _opens the door on the right, and disappears through the door
+on the left hand_.)
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+(_Meeting the lieutenant as he enters_.) Herr von Hallerpfort, what has
+happened to Fritz?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Nothing, Fräulein, not the least thing.... I am surprised that he is
+not yet here.
+
+                       Agnes (_rising joyfully_).
+
+Ah! (_With a sigh of relief_.) Ha!
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+I beg pardon a thousand times if I startled you.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Will you please take a seat.
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Thank you, most humbly! (_They are seated_.) Your uncle and aunt, I
+hope, will not----
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Uncle has just gone to the stables, and aunt's coming will be announced
+to us.
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+How is your aunt?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Oh, I thank you, much as usual.--Herr von Hallerpfort, be frank with
+me: What is this all about?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Oh, absolutely nothing of any consequence. A little surprise--nothing
+further--nothing further!
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+To be sure, if he is really on his way here--didn't you ride here
+together?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+No, I came by the way of the levee, and thought to overtake him. He
+will have ridden by the highway.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Then what is the object of this secrecy?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+That will soon be cleared up, Fräulein.... At this moment, in Fritz's
+interest, I have to ask a great favour of you.... It is now (_takes out
+his watch_) three forty-five o'clock. At four o'clock let us say five
+minutes after four--even if we take into account some unforeseen
+delay--yes--he must be here.... How long does it take to go to the
+village to Braun's inn?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Ten minutes--that is, by a short cut through the park, about five.
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Thank you most humbly. Then will you have the great kindness to reckon
+by your watch a half hour from the moment when he comes in here, and
+then send me a message to Braun's where I am stopping?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+At Braun's? I think you know, Herr von Hallerpfort, that this house----
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Oh, certainly that I know!... I only made the mistake of putting my
+horse at the entrance to Braun's, and as he doesn't belong to me, it is
+my duty to look after him.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+And all that is the truth?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Absolutely.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+I should not be so persistent--forgive me for it--but here we have all
+been so distressed about him. For nearly a week, we have sat and waited
+for news.... Tell me truly.
+
+                   Wilhelm (_entering at the left_).
+
+Fräulein, your aunt.
+
+                     Hallerpfort (_springing up_).
+
+Good-bye, then! And be reassured, it is all about a joke--about----
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+If only your face were not so serious.
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Oh, that--that is deceptive. (_Exit quickly to the right_.)
+
+
+                             _FIFTH SCENE_.
+
+AGNES. FRAU VON DROSSE (_extremely delicate in appearance, forty,
+suffering--with girlish complexion--gay, absent smile--dreamy, gentle
+expression--gliding, careful walk--breathing deeply_).
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+(_Hastens to meet her, to support her_.) Forgive me, aunt, that I did
+not go to fetch you.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+No matter, darling ... I could manage.... Is there any news?
+
+                       (Agnes _shakes her head_.)
+
+                      Frau von Drosse (_sighing_).
+
+Ah, yes.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Do you know, aunt, I have a sort of presentiment that he will soon be
+here himself.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Yes, if things happened according to presentiments!
+
+
+                             _SIXTH SCENE_.
+
+                       THE SAME. MAJOR. WILHELM.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, darling, are you in good spirits?... No!... Well, what is it
+then? What is it then?
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Ah, Richard, you surely know.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Oh, nonsense! Don't worry yourself uselessly.... A young badger like
+that--service and casino and what not! I used not to do any better
+myself ... Eh, Wilhelm, that you will have remembered even in your
+booziness? Many a time I didn't write for four weeks.
+
+                 Wilhelm (_who is handing the coffee_).
+
+Yes, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+And were you at all worried then?
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Yes, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Old donkey.... Well, you see how it is ... The same old story.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Richard, do you know, last night a thought came to me. They all idolise
+him--that boy.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Yes?
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Well, with the ladies of the regiment, it is no great wonder....
+
+                                 Major.
+
+So far as they wish to get married--no.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+But there is another who takes a very special interest in
+him--motherly, as one might say.... No, motherly is not just the right
+word, but at any rate, purely human, purely spiritual--you know what I
+mean. At the last ball in Wartenstein, she questioned me at length
+about him, about his childhood, and everything possible. At the time I
+was really rather indignant, but now it pleases me.... I shall write to
+her to-day and ask her to keep an eye upon him. For you see, a woman's
+influence--that is what he needs.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Ah, the poor devil! And for that purpose, one of the kind.... Who then
+is it?
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Why! You surely know her ... Frau von Lanski of Steinhof.
+
+                           (Agnes _winces_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Ah, indeed--well, to be sure, hm--that is quite probable.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Their estate is quite close to the city ... There he could always go in
+the evenings ... If only the husband were not so rude. I should be
+afraid of him.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, you are not a lieutenant of hussars, darling.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Won't you drink your coffee, aunt? It will be quite cold.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Ah, the stupid fig-coffee. To be sure, your health is good, you don't
+need anything of the kind! (_drinks_) Richard, do you know, last night
+I saw a vision.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, what did you see this time, darling?
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+There was a wide chamber with many mirrors and lights--perhaps it was
+Versailles--perhaps the castle at Berlin. And hundreds of generals
+stood there and waited.... (_Excitedly_.) And suddenly the door was
+opened wide and at the side of the Emperor----
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Drink, aunt--tell about it later--it excites you.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Yes, my sweet one, yes. (_Drinks and leans back exhausted_.) You know,
+Richard, perhaps they are to increase his pay.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Surely he has enough, darling. Do you wish him to gamble it away?
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Very well, then, let him gamble it away. I find that in general we pay
+so little heed to him.... I am obliged to think all the time how he
+acted in a roundabout way in the matter of Foxblaze. He didn't trust
+himself even to tell it.
+
+                          Major (_laughing_).
+
+No, child--but just stop.... Besides the charger he already has two
+others ... And one of them is Mohammed! Such a big stable--it is only a
+nuisance to him.... Just consider!
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Ah, it is surely only restlessness. Ah, I wish he were only----
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+(_Who had gone out, appears excitedly at the door on the right and
+calls softly_.) Major, Major!
+
+                        Major (_springing up_).
+
+What is it?
+
+                       Wilhelm (_in a whisper_).
+
+The--the--young master!
+
+              Frau von Drosse (_turning round suddenly_).
+
+What is it about the young master?
+
+               Major (_rushes out. His voice is heard_).
+
+Boy, boy, boy!
+
+          (Frau von Drosse _breaks out in ecstatic laughter_.)
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Quietly, aunt! Quietly! Don't excite yourself!
+
+
+                            _SEVENTH SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. FRITZ VON DROSSE (_in hussar uniform, his mother's son,
+slender, delicate, very youthful, blond to the roots of his closely
+cropped hair, small curled moustache, erratic person. Uneasiness is
+veiled beneath a noisy cheerfulness_).
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+(_Goes to meet him with outstretched arms_.) My God! there he really
+is!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+I should think he was! (_Presses her to his heart and strokes her hair,
+closes his eyes a moment, as if overcome with faintness_.) But be
+seated, mamma, be seated. Confound it, but I have ridden! And on the
+way, my horse lost another shoe.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Mohammed?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+No, I am riding the Spy.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Where did it happen?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Thank God! just near Gehlsdorf.... I wasted twenty-five minutes at the
+blacksmith's.... But then--when--you should have seen!... Yes, Wilhelm,
+just see to it that the horse is well scraped and rubbed down. And
+don't let him stand just now--first lead him about properly.... An
+hour, feeding time--understand, old chap?... There, give me your
+paw--so!--don't be so agitated.... And now, go on, out with you!
+
+                           (_Exit_ Wilhelm.)
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Come here, my Fritzchen, sit beside me!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Very well, mamma, let us, very well!
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+You see, Agnes she had a presentiment about you.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Ah! Good-day, Agnes!
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Good-day, Fritz!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+You are so formal!
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+I?... Ah, no, dear Fritz.... Would you not like to drink something?
+
+               (Fritz _stares at her, without replying_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Fritz!
+
+                         Fritz (_starting up_).
+
+Yes, father!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+You are asked a question.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+To be sure, pardon me!... Pardon me, dear Agnes!... It is the heat ...
+It makes one quite idiotic.... Please bring me anything you like....
+No, bring me rather some Rhine wine.... Bring some of the '64.
+
+                          Major (_laughing_).
+
+You go eagerly at the stuff, my son....
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Forgive me, father, if I was too bold. I don't know how I came to do
+it.
+
+                          Major (_to_ Agnes).
+
+Just bring it, bring it.
+
+(Agnes _takes the keys from the shelf and goes out to the right_.)
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+How long have you furlough, my boy?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Furlough? Ha, ha, furlough ... No furlough at all. Sixty precious
+minutes, I have spared for you (_stretching himself_) then it is over!
+(_Throws himself into a chair standing near the place where his mother
+is sitting_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+It is "over," what does that mean? Are you then on duty?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+On duty?... Well, yes indeed, I am on duty--to be sure--of course.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+What duty can that be?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Well, a patrol ride, of course.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+When did you set out?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+At noon, father.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Remarkable. In my time, the cavalry rode in patrol service rather about
+midnight.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, the old man[2] does such things.... It is all one to him. If he
+can give petty annoyance. Yes.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+How do you have time to stop in here?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Well, I had to unsaddle, and anyhow have ridden four and a half miles.
+It was only the question whether I should feed the horse at Braun's at
+the entrance where one gets merely water or----
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Of course you are right about that.
+
+                Frau von Drosse (_stroking his hands_).
+
+See what brown hands the boy has got.... I wonder how they can be
+burned through the gloves ... Just look, Richard, he has the white mark
+on his forehead, there where it is shaded. The last time, it was not
+there. My boy, my boy! (_Bends down her head and kisses him on the
+forehead_.)
+
+(Fritz _closes his eyes and utters a low whimpering exclamation of
+pain_.)
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+What was it? Did I hurt you, my boy?
+
+                  Fritz (_with embarrassed laughter_).
+
+Oh, no--no!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Control yourself, Fritz!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, father!
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Let him alone, Richard! Remember he has to leave directly.
+
+                 Fritz (_staring straight before him_).
+
+Yes, I must go directly.
+
+               Major (_shaking his head, examines him_).
+
+Remarkable!
+
+            Agnes (_who returns with a bottle and glasses_).
+
+There is the wine, dear Fritz.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Ah, if only the wine is there! (_Hurries to the table and pours the
+wine_.) Does no one touch glasses with me?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Just wait, I will touch glasses with you.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Then long life to us, friends! May we live happily.... Long may we
+live.... (_Musing_.) May we live as long as possible!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+But you are not drinking.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, yes. (_Tosses down a glass_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, I should like to take this occasion to ask you just why you don't
+write to us any more.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Please, Richard, please say nothing to him--he telegraphed.
+
+                     Fritz (_starting anxiously_).
+
+Telegraphed? What did I telegraph?
+
+        (Major _makes signals to him behind his mother's back_.)
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, of course. You see, father, I telegraphed.... And then, not long
+ago, I fell from the trapeze and sprained my arm a bit.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+You see, Richard, that is what hurt him just now; and yet you scolded
+him.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Mamma, father is right.... A soldier is not allowed to show signs of
+pain--he has no pain. That is something which doesn't happen, it is
+something which doesn't happen at all, does it, Agnes?
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Why do you ask _me_, Fritz?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Remarkable!... You know, darling, the boy would like something to eat.
+In such cases, you always see to it yourself--eh?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+No, indeed, mother--stay here, mother. (_He grasps her hands_.)
+
+                    Frau von Drosse (_imploringly_).
+
+Richard, the time is just now so short.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Won't do, child! I have to speak to him about something.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+What is it, father? There is indeed no question of ...
+
+              Frau von Drosse (_standing up and sighing_).
+
+Don't be too long, Richard. Remember I wish to have something more of
+him. (_Goes with_ Agnes _to the door on the left, where she turns
+again_.) My boy, don't you look at me any more?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+(_Who has been standing with averted face, biting his lips, turns
+suddenly_.) At your service, mother!
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Now he is on his "at your service" footing, even with me.
+
+                 (_Exit_ Frau von Drosse _with_ Agnes.)
+
+
+                            _EIGHTH SCENE_.
+
+                             MAJOR. FRITZ.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, Fritz, my boy, here we are now alone, just out with what you have
+to say ... Exactly what is the matter?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Nothing, father, absolutely nothing ... What should be the matter?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+You know, this story about the sprained arm and the patrol ride, that
+is simply a lie!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+How so?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Will you smoke a cigar with me?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+If you please ... That is, I should like a glass of water. (_Tosses
+down two glasses of water_.)
+
+                      Major (_lights his cigar_).
+
+Just see, Fritz, in your rage you fail to notice that I am insulting
+you here.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+How can a father be said to insult his son? If you don't believe me,
+then you just don't believe me.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+But we are both officers, my son.... Well, let us set that
+aside--besides that, we are a couple of good friends from time
+immemorial.... Isn't that the case--are we not?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Oh, to be sure.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+And when I see you running about here--in ecstasy or despair--I can
+make nothing out of it. Yes, I should like to advise you to put a
+little more confidence in me.... The affair is surely not so bad that a
+man of experience cannot put it in order again.... So just sit down
+here a while.... Have you gambled?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, I have gambled too.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Have you lost?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+No, I have won.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Then, as to women--how is it about women?
+
+                    Fritz (_shrugs his shoulders_).
+
+Ah!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Boy, don't be so hard in the mouth.... Do you think I don't know you
+are in love?...
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+In love? Ah, good God!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Just think, my boy, only a year and a half ago, you came to me one fine
+day and explained to me that you wished to engage yourself to Agnes....
+You know that I have not the slightest objection to Agnes. She will
+make an excellent Frau von Drosse.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Indeed? Do you believe it?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+But your twenty-one years and, ah, good God!... You still carry about
+with you most merrily the eggshells on your back--as the infantry
+carries the knapsack. You hadn't the slightest idea of what are
+commonly called "women"--of course, I don't count barmaids and such
+people.... So I said to you: "My boy, let this interview be buried--and
+above all, so far as Agnes is concerned.... Do as your father and your
+grandfather did! Get some experience and--then come again." Don't you
+remember that?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+I should think I did remember it.
+
+                           Major (_smiling_).
+
+And now, it seems to me, you have had some experience.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Oh, yes, there is no denying that.
+
+                        Major (_still smiling_).
+
+You have in the end had a so-called "passion," or are stuck in the
+middle of it; which of the two I don't know. Yet to judge from the
+discontinuance of your letters, the latter is the case.... Since we are
+here together as two men, I will not expostulate with you further....
+You know perhaps the story of that abbé who, in society, once excused
+the absence of his bishop with the words: "Monseigneur est en retard à
+cause d'amour." To a certain extent, this holds good in every case....
+But in spite of that, on your mother's account, don't do it again. That
+is my advice to you.... There! And now we'll enter at once upon the
+matter itself.... Just see, Frau von Lanski is, it will be admitted, a
+very charming woman, but----
+
+                         Fritz (_impetuously_).
+
+Father, how do you come to refer to Frau von Lanski?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+There, there, there, only take it calmly, only take it calmly.... I
+know just what there is to know about such affairs, and I don't by any
+means wish to pry into your secrets ... But so far as the grand passion
+is concerned, be calm.... I can cure you again ... Be quite calm.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+That I can well believe, father, if only you have the time necessary to
+do it.
+
+                           Major (_smiling_).
+
+Well, why haven't I?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Because, in twenty-four hours, I shall be a dead man.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+(_Springing up, and taking him by the shoulder_.) Boy!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Father, I did not wish to tell anything. I came here only to take
+farewell of you in silence. But you have drawn it out of me, father.
+
+                    Major (_flying into a passion_).
+
+So, there's a scandal.... You had to carry it to the point of making a
+scandal--you damned fool! (_More calmly_.) Lanski has challenged you?
+
+                         (Fritz _nods assent_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Well, yes--and it is well known--Lanski is a dead shot. He is perhaps
+the best shot anywhere hereabouts.... But still your wrist is in good
+order. How can one throw the thing away like that? I have fought three
+duels, and two of them under difficult conditions--eh--and--there, see
+here! How can one say such a thing? How can one, man?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Father, the affair at this moment is in such a state that, after all, I
+don't know whether I shall be granted a duel!
+
+                          Major (_hoarsely_).
+
+I don't understand that, Fritz.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Then don't ask me!... I can't say it, father.... I had rather bite off
+my tongue. (_Pauses_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+(_Goes to the door on the left, opens it, looks out, and closes it
+again_.) Now speak! (_Wildly_.) Speak or----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+For me, father, there is no more any "or." ... Whether you turn me out
+or not, it is all the same.
+
+                 Major (_softly, grinding his teeth_).
+
+Do you wish to drive me mad, boy?
+
+                         (Fritz _crying out_).
+
+He whipped me--across the courtyard--out into the street--whipped me
+like a beast!
+
+                       Major (_after a silence_).
+
+Where was your sabre? You could have run him through.
+
+                 (Fritz _silent, with downcast eyes_.)
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Where was your sabre, I ask you?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+It was--not--at hand, father.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+It was not at hand.... Hm!... Now I understand it all. Surely there is
+nothing left to wish! And this catastrophe occurred when?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yesterday evening, father!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+At what time?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+It was still--daylight!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Ha, ha!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Father, only don't laugh! Have pity on me!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Have you had pity on me?... Or on your mother? or on--on.... Just look,
+look about you ... All that was made for you!... All that was waiting
+for you.... For two centuries we Drosses have struggled and scraped
+together and fought with death and devil merely for you.... The house
+of Drosse was resting on your two shoulders, my son.... And you have
+let it fall into the mire, and now you would like to be pitied!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Dear father, listen.... Since you have known it, I am quite calm....
+What you say is all very true, but I cannot bear the responsibility
+alone. Listen; when I came to you that time, on account of Agnes, my
+whole heart was attached to her. So far as I was concerned, other men's
+wives could go to the devil.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Did I drive you, then, after other men's wives?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes, father, otherwise what does that mean: "Get some experience,
+ripen, do as your father and grandfather did"?... In the regiment, they
+still call you the wild Drosse, and tales are still told of your former
+love adventures.... They tell some such stories even of a late date....
+For my part, I had not the least taste for such diversions. I used to
+see in every woman who did not belong to me, a sort of holy thing....
+That may have been a green way of looking at it, but you would have
+allowed it; and with Agnes, I should have quietly----
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Stop! Have pity! Stop!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+See, now you say to me all at once, "have pity"--Father, I am a dying
+man, I did not come here to make reproaches, but do you make none to
+me!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+(_Embracing him, and stroking his hair_.) My son--my all--my boy--I
+don't permit--I will not----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Silence, silence, father! Mother should not hear that.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Yes, forgive me for giving way. It shall not happen again.... So how
+does the affair stand now?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+I reported myself to the old man, that very night.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+My God! Whatever did the old Frohn say?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Spare me that, father.... Of course, I obtained the usual furlough at
+once, until the discharge comes. Well, that doesn't matter now.... It
+does not last long, thus.... This morning, the court of honor had a
+sitting. After my hearing, I rode away at once, so as to lose no time.
+I gave Mohammed to Hallerpfort in order to have him follow me as soon
+as judgment was pronounced. He may be here at any moment.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Why did you summon a court of honor?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+What was I to do, father, after Lanski declared to those who delivered
+my challenge that I was no longer--capable of having satisfaction?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Ah! I will shoot the dog dead for that.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Well, I hope they will decide favourably to me.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+If not, the dev-- (_Softly_.) And then I will tell you a couple of
+measures to take so as to have a steady hand. Sleep properly, and don't
+eat a bite, and then tell the doctor----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Enough, enough, father, that is of no further use.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+What does that mean? Is it possible that you will--to Lanski?----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Lanski will hit me. Depend upon it....
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Man, are you--are you----?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Lanski will hit me. Depend upon it....
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Man, yet have--yet consider----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+I will not, father! And if you had seen the spectacle which the people
+of Wartenstein saw yesterday (_shudders_), you would demand nothing
+more of life for me than a half-respectable death....
+
+                          Major (_brokenly_).
+
+Perhaps--they will not--grant you--the duel.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Well, if we have got to that last hope, father, then we are indeed in
+bad straits.... Shall I perhaps open a dram-shop in Chicago, or a
+cattle business with my paternal capital? Yes? Would you have done it?
+
+                          Major (_perplexed_).
+
+I?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Say then say!
+
+                     Major (_drawing himself up_).
+
+No! (_Sinks down in his chair_.)
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+So you see, father--so or so--your Fritz is done for.
+
+                   Major (_sunk in gloomy reverie_).
+
+My fault!--my----
+
+
+                             _NINTH SCENE_.
+
+       THE SAME. WILHELM. _Afterward_ LIEUTENANT VON HALLERPFORT.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+What is it?
+
+                                Wilhelm.
+
+Lieutenant von Hallerpfort wishes to speak to the young master.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+(_Hurrying past him to the door_.) Well?
+
+(Hallerpfort _shakes hands with him and the_ Major, _and casts a glance
+at_ Wilhelm, _who forthwith disappears_.)
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Well?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Does your father know?
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Yes, my dear Hallerpfort, I know.--Granted?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+To-morrow morning, half after four o'clock behind the large
+drill-ground.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Thank God!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Thank God! (_They embrace_.)
+
+                     Fritz (_disengaging himself_).
+
+Conditions?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Fifteen paces--advance--five paces barrier--exchange of shots----
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+To a finish?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+To a finish.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Very well!
+
+(Major _turns toward the door, and presses his hands to his face_.)
+
+                    Hallerpfort (_approaching him_).
+
+Major, as your son's best friend----
+
+                     Major (_grasping his hands_).
+
+I thank you, my dear Hallerpfort, I thank you.... You will ride away at
+once, will you not?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+Unfortunately we must, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+Then just listen.... I will pass the hours until the duel, with my
+son.... That you can understand, can't you?... My carriage is hitched
+up but I cannot go away with you for fear of making my sick wife
+uneasy. Wait for me at the end of half an hour in Schrander's inn....
+Don't fear. We shall be on time....
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+It will be as you order, Major.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+And now, courage, Fritz!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+That is understood, father!
+
+                                 Major.
+
+(_Holding open the door on the left, in a different tone_.) Now, boys,
+just come quickly in! Only think, darling----
+
+
+                             _TENTH SCENE_.
+
+                       THE SAME. FRAU VON DROSSE.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Ah--Herr von Hallerpfort! (_He kisses her hand_.) How does this happen?
+Two lieutenants in the house at the same time--if that doesn't bring
+luck!
+
+                           Fritz (_quickly_).
+
+We have orders together, mamma.
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+And alas, madam, we have to be off this very minute.
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+How is that? Then I don't have my full hour? And now everything is so
+beautifully arranged.... Fritz, my dear Hallerpfort--just a bite, won't
+you?... Richard, dear, come to my aid.
+
+                                 Major.
+
+But, dear child, service is service.
+
+                     Fritz (_with quick decision_).
+
+So, good-bye, mamma!
+
+                   Frau von Drosse (_embracing him_).
+
+My boy--you will soon have furlough, won't you?
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Yes indeed, mamma! After the man[oe]uvres. Then we are free. Then we
+will be merry!
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+And Hallerpfort is coming with you, isn't he?
+
+                              Hallerpfort.
+
+With your permission, madam.
+
+                      Major (_softly, to_ Agnes).
+
+Take leave of him! You will never see him again!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+(_Stretching out his hand cheerfully to her_.) Dear Ag-- (_Looks into
+her face, and understands that she knows. Softly, earnestly_.)
+Farewell, then.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+Farewell, Fritz!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+I love you.
+
+                                 Agnes.
+
+I shall always love you, Fritz!
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Away then, Hallerpfort! Au revoir, papa! Au revoir! Revoir! (_Starts
+for the door on the right_.)
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Go by the park, boys--there I have you longer in sight.
+
+                                 Fritz.
+
+Very well, mamma, we will do it! (_Passes with_ Hallerpfort _through
+the door at the centre; on the terrace, he turns with a cheerful
+gesture, and calls once more_.) Au revoir! (_His voice is still
+audible_.) Au revoir!
+
+(Frau von Drosse _throws kisses after him, and waves her handkerchief,
+then presses her hand wearily to her heart and sighs heavily_.)
+
+
+                           _ELEVENTH SCENE_.
+
+                     MAJOR. FRAU VON DROSSE. AGNES.
+
+(Agnes _hurries to her, and leads her to a chair, then goes over to
+the_ Major, _who, with heaving breast is lost in thought_.)
+
+                            Frau von Drosse.
+
+Thank you, my darling!--Already, I am quite well again!... God, the
+boy! How handsome he looked! And so brown and so healthy.... You see, I
+saw him exactly like that last night.... No, that is no illusion! And I
+told you how the Emperor led him in among all the generals! And the
+emperor said (_More softly, looking far away with a beatific smile_.)
+And the Emperor said----
+
+
+
+                                CURTAIN.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                  III
+
+                         THE ETERNAL MASCULINE
+
+                           A PLAY IN ONE ACT
+
+
+
+
+
+                                PERSONS
+
+
+      The Queen.
+      The Marshal.
+      The Painter.
+      The Valet de Chambre.
+      The Marquis in Pink.
+      The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+      The Sleepy Maid of Honour.
+      The Deaf Maid of Honour.
+      A Child as Cupid.
+
+Several other Marquises and Maids of Honour.
+
+
+
+
+
+                         THE ETERNAL MASCULINE
+
+_The scene represents a state apartment in a royal castle. On the left,
+a throne in baroque style. On the right, in the background a screen
+with a table and chairs beside it. In the centre, an easel._
+
+
+                             _FIRST SCENE_.
+
+THE QUEEN _in a plaited coronation robe, on the throne_. THE PAINTER
+_with palette in hand, painting_. A CHILD _as_ CUPID, _suspended by the
+waist, swings on_ THE QUEEN'S _left, holding a crown over her head. The
+background and the right of the stage are occupied by ladies and
+gentlemen of the court, among them_ THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR, THE SLEEPY
+MAID OF HONOUR, THE MARQUIS IN PINK, and MARQUIS IN PALE BLUE.
+
+                      SONG OF THE MAIDS OF HONOUR.
+
+                   (Led by The Marquis in Pale Blue.)
+
+            Zephyr rises at the dawn
+            From the budding pillows of the roses.
+            Lo, he will cool his hot desire
+            In the silvery dew,
+            Since he must console himself
+            That his dream still fans the flame,
+            And that Luna's icy kiss
+            Does but touch his parched mouth.
+
+            And Aurora's violet passion
+            Looks on him with floods of tears.
+            Ah! What matters Luna's favour?--
+            She knows not how to kiss.
+
+                         The Queen (_yawning_).
+
+The pretty verses which you have just sung to sweeten this long posing
+for me, grieve me slightly. Yet--aside from that--accept my thanks.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Oh, your Majesty!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Are you a poet, Marquis?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Oh, your Majesty, up to this time I have not been; but who should not
+speak in verse where this magic enthrals us, where our hearts are
+habitually broken, and Cupid himself bears the royal crown?
+
+                        (Cupid _begins to cry_).
+
+                         First Maid of Honour.
+
+What is the matter with him?
+
+                         Second Maid of Honour.
+
+Ah, the sweet child!
+
+                         First Maid of Honour.
+
+Be good! Nice and good! Here is a sweetmeat!
+
+                                 Cupid.
+
+I want to get down! My legs are cold.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Oh, fie! The word offends my ears.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Pardon him, your Majesty, the saucy child surely does not know that in
+your presence one can speak only of roses, lilies, and such delicate
+things.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+It seems to me that the little fellow lacks education.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Hereafter, only children from superior families should be chosen for
+this purpose.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+And you, respected artist, have no word to say?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It is not fitting that every one should speak. I am engaged to paint,
+not to make speeches. Still, may I ask you to send the boy away?
+
+(The Queen _laughing, makes a sign. Two maids of honour set him free_.)
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+What a way of speaking!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+What a plebeian!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+ How self-conscious!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+And she dotes on him!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Nay, dear master, speak! For rarely do I have the pleasure of finding
+my thought sympathetically stimulated by the thought of another. I do
+so like to think--I like to _feel_ perhaps even better--yet these
+gentlemen talk as if they were in a fever.
+
+                             The Marquises.
+
+Oh, your Majesty!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Yes, indeed! Look for the man who without hope of meretricious gain
+knows how to devote himself faithfully to noble service, and who
+without honeyed phrases gracefully pursues what is dear to his soul; as
+for you--you could borrow for yourselves a little of love's fire merely
+from the confectioner's kitchen.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Oh, that is severe!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Oh, that is almost deadly!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Then resist, and do not drag along inoffensively the burden, new every
+day, of my old contempt which I bestow upon you, because it pleases me
+to, like the ordinance of God. But let him expect my reward who can say
+worthily and honourably: Behold, oh Queen, I am a man!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+I am one!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+So am I!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I don't think ill of you! I like you. You don't disturb my repose--yet,
+dear master, what say you to that?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I pray, your Majesty, still a little farther to the right.
+
+                         The Queen (_smiling_).
+
+And is that all? Does nothing which may occur in this room interest
+you?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Pardon me, your Majesty, the daylight is scanty, and besides--I am
+painting.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Look at him! A ray of light is of more value to him than all the
+foolish, gaudy songs of love. Is it not true? See, his very silence and
+bow betoken decided resistance.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Madam, forgive me if my words and bearing were an occasion and reason
+for misunderstanding. I speak now, because you call on me to speak.
+Every ray of light is a ray of love, and if its portrayer were to shut
+it out, I should like to know what would remain of this poor art which
+derives its sublimest power from the sources of desire. If our heart
+does not tremble in our hand, if into the flood of forms which stream
+from it, no flash of inner lightning shines, how shall we express in
+these colours life's image, the storm of the passions, the shy play of
+slight feeling, the desperate vacillation of exhausted hope, and all
+the rest of our inner life? In these seven blotched colours (_points to
+the palette_) where the whole wide universe is portrayed, where if our
+senses are starving for truth, is phantasy to look for food and
+deliverance? Yet if we have to speak with wisdom, elegantly and
+cleverly, then the mysterious volition is silent and the promised land
+recedes far away from us. Therefore, madam, leave me what belongs to us
+who are poor, the sacred right to create and to be silent.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+You call yourself poor and yet you are rich. You might be equal to the
+rulers of this earth. Yet what avails the kingdom of your vision? The
+splendid gift of confidence is wanting to you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+How, your Majesty?
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Like a Harpagon, you guard the treasures of your soul, lest any
+of your feelings should be stolen. No one risks it--Jean, give me my
+smelling-bottle.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+She inflames him.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+On the contrary, she cools him off.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Just to inflame him anew.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+I wonder if she truly loves him?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+At any rate, she wishes to excite him.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+There, Jean, _merci_.... Yet what was I about to say, has no one seen
+anything of our Marshal?
+
+                    The Marquis in Pink (_softly_).
+
+Is he still missing?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Why does she want _him_, too?
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I really believe the good Marshal is offended. It is three days since I
+spoke to him graciously at the state reception.... That seems long to
+me.
+
+                 The Painter (_turning to_ The Queen).
+
+Is the Marshal back? The Marshal here?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+May it please your Majesty, a gentleman of the court met him to-day. He
+was standing in a pouring rain, and trying a new sword.
+
+                      The Painter (_to himself_).
+
+The Marshal.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+(_Half aloud to_ The Painter.) Admit, sir, that his coming is
+inconvenient to you?
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Do you know him, master?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Your Majesty, I have never seen him.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Yet you would like to make his acquaintance?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+That I don't know.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+(_Softly to_ The Marquis in Pale Blue.) How the coward betrays himself!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Too often I have heard his name spoken in wonder, here with disfavour,
+there with enthusiasm, yet always as if a miracle was happening to me,
+too often for me not to view with apprehension the nearness of this
+powerful man.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+What did I say? He is afraid.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+That is splendid!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+We must see to that and profit by it. (_Aloud_.) Yet I advise you, dear
+master, hold your own. He has a habit sometimes of running people
+through. Yet----
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+As one impales flies--of an afternoon--on the wall? My felicitations,
+Marquis! Happily for you, it is plain that he has never been bored.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+How do you intend that?
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Gentlemen, I must beg you! At court, the master has good company. It
+amuses me when he meets your insolence with wit and spirit, and gives
+you a return thrust. Only try the experiment! I am waiting.... Please,
+Jean, my handkerchief!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+I have a right to be angry!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Yes, indeed, you have been insulted!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Ha! Fearful is a man in anger! What do you think--can the dauber defend
+himself?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Attack him first from behind, then to his face.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I thank you, Jean.... Well, now, you dear men, you whisper, sulk, and
+mutter to each other. What is the use of my kindling your wit? I don't
+strike even a little spark from the stone. So you are dismissed....
+Take a holiday. And do you, my children, go home. But in a little
+while, master, let us talk together, after our hearts' desire! The
+ladies of the suite--they will not disturb you.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+I believe it. One of them is asleep.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+The other can't hear.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Good-bye! I wish you to go home to do penance for your sins of love.
+(_Goes to the door on the right_.) One thing more. When you see the
+good Marshal, give him my greetings. (_Exit, followed by the ladies.
+Only the sleepy lady remains, sitting_.)
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+(_Softly to the deaf lady_.) Pst! Wake her! (_She nods to him
+pleasantly and goes out_.) Ah, yes, she is deaf!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+(_Pointing at the lady asleep_.) Pluck her by the sleeve.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Fräulein, allow me?
+
+                       The Sleepy Maid Of Honour.
+
+(_Springs up with a little cry, makes a low curtsey to_ The Marquis,
+_which he returns in kind, then follows the other ladies_.)
+
+
+                            _SECOND SCENE_.
+
+                      THE MARQUISES. THE PAINTER.
+
+(The Painter _paints, without noticing the others, then takes a
+buttered roll from his pocket and eats_.)
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Ha, now I am going to kill him!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Don't you know it is forbidden? The punishment would be severe. They
+say, too, that he wields a keen blade, and before you know it you are
+dead as a mouse.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+I am surprised at that. Yet whether we love or hate him, one thing is
+as clear to me as day: he must not be allowed to quit this palace
+alive.
+
+                            Another Marquis.
+
+Pardon me, Marquis, why not?
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+You don't see deeply into this, Marquis. It seems almost as if you were
+a simpleton. Has she not mocked us, and exclaimed at our cooing,
+rustling, sweet speaking, and whimpering? Yet she delights to have him
+paint her; and as a reward, she loves him.
+
+                          The Second Marquis.
+
+Ha, terrible!
+
+                           The Third Marquis.
+
+Who told you that?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Have pity on us, friend, and give us proofs!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Well, his Majesty (_all bow_) is, alas, well on in years! (_All assent
+sorrowfully_.) Whom else does she love? There must at any rate be some
+one!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+For God's sake, be prudent and speak softly!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+What is he doing there?
+
+                          The Second Marquis.
+
+He is eating.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Fie, how vulgar!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+What will happen to the Marshal?
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+That seems to me doubtful. Sometimes she is pleasant with him,
+sometimes ill-humoured. I have tried to get rid of him, but he still
+stays by me. He causes me the pangs of jealousy. She must love one of
+us. We are here for that purpose. Yet inasmuch as this wandering fellow
+has stolen her heart, he must die--and that on the spot.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Patience, Marquis, patience! Of all the means of shaking off this
+insolent fellow, there is one which is really exquisite. Without
+breaking the laws, if we set the Marshal on him, instead of being
+disturbers of the peace, we shall escape scot-free. He dies, of course,
+and it would be a wonder--yet what am I saying?--He is already as good
+as a dead sparrow.
+
+                            (_All chuckle_.)
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Dead sparrow is excellent!
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+This murder--listen--is bound to put the other one into disfavour. The
+King's Majesty (_all bow_) will shorten his leave of absence, and we,
+we shall be freed of him.
+
+                            (_All chuckle_.)
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+What are they about? Alas, if they are glad, perhaps that means the
+ruin of some man of honour. Perhaps they are meditating some ribaldry.
+But in truth, what matters to me this vermin?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Now let us send out a message hastily to the Marshal, that we are
+gathered in the antechamber, and while this poor dead mouse--no, pardon
+me sparrow!--stammers his love to her, he, driven by us to extremes,
+will burst in unannounced--and this fellow is detected.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Very good! But if things turn out differently, what then?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Never mind! Take advantage of the right moment. No more is needed. For
+she cannot refrain, she must see people kneel to her.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Famous! Brilliant! A splendid plan! (_To_ The Painter, _with a low bow
+which all imitate_.) Honoured sir, permit us to greet you!
+
+                     The Painter (_very politely_).
+
+My greeting implies the esteem of which you are aware.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+We lay our esteem at your feet! (_After further bows, which_ The
+Painter _good-humouredly returns_, The Marquises _depart at the
+centre_.)
+
+              (The Painter _smiling, continues to paint_.)
+
+
+                             _THIRD SCENE_.
+
+THE PAINTER. THE VALET DE CHAMBRE. _Then_ THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR. THE
+SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR. THE QUEEN.
+
+(The Valet _entering from the left, greets_ The Painter _with
+condescending nods, and walks over to the throne_.)
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Eh!--what?... Ah, indeed! (_Laughs aloud_.) Strange world, where the
+lackey carries his head the highest!
+
+(Valet _after arranging the cushions, places himself before the easel,
+and ogles the portrait_.)
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+What is it?
+
+                               The Valet.
+
+(_Pleasantly, as a connoisseur_.) Ah these little furrows in the
+cheeks! (_Benevolently_.) It can't be expected, sir, of you that your
+brush should do justice to every fine point. Yet--aside from that--the
+likeness is good.
+
+                   The Painter (_laughing heartily_).
+
+Indeed?
+
+                               The Valet.
+
+(_Opening the door on the left, announces_.) Her Majesty!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I scent trouble in this, and a voice says to me flee! I have already
+committed many a folly, but I never loved a queen! Take heed to
+yourself!
+
+(The Two Maids of Honour _have entered during this soliloquy, and have
+taken their positions to the right and left of the door_.)
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+(_Nods cordially to_ The Painter, _and takes her seat on the throne, as
+before_.) My dear Jean, I must dispense with you now. Don't stay too
+late.
+
+                             (_Exit Jean_.)
+
+
+                            _FOURTH SCENE_.
+
+THE QUEEN. THE PAINTER. THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR (_who seats herself
+behind the screen_). THE SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR (_who falls asleep
+directly on a chair near the door on the left_).
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Well, master, tell me: what is Genius doing?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Oh, your Majesty, he is pursuing Beauty.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Yet since Beauty lingers no more on earth, your genius will soon grow
+weary.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+How so? Does your Majesty think it roams in the sky? It lingers just at
+the goal and cries: Oh behold! and what thou beholdest, that give to
+eternity!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I did not know, my dear master, that you were so ready with your
+compliments. Very well! As a man of many travels and of great
+reputation, you tread continually on the scorn of men; and since we are
+here chatting in confidence, take heart and tell me without reserve,
+tell me quite frankly: am I really beautiful?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+If I were to speak as a man, every word would be presumptuous. Yet you
+ask the painter only. And he says that his hand is withered with
+anxiety lest on this canvas there will be found only a pale blotted
+vapour seen by a blind man.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+There spoke the painter. But what says the man?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+He has no opinion, your Majesty!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+What a pity! One hears now and then this thing and that thing, yet that
+seems to me insipid above all things. And one must be strict and always
+be suppressing--suppressing. You don't need that. So I tell you
+discreetly, I can't resist the suspicion that my beauty is leaving me.
+Yes, indeed. And besides that, I am growing old. Yes, indeed. I am
+almost thirty, and the matron has to go to the rear. I indeed do what I
+can. They take great pains with me. And my late brother used to send me
+a beauty powder from the holy sepulchre which was good for my
+complexion. Then it is my habit to wash myself with the extract of
+lilies, and off and on to nibble at arsenic bonbons. That is very
+good--the eyes flash, and the blood comes to the cheeks....
+(_Alarmed_.) It seems to me I am confiding in you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Consider me as a thing--as a slave!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+And you know how to be silent? Tell me--swear!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+What you did not will me to hear, that I have not heard. What I did not
+hear, I cannot keep as a secret.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Lofty sentiment and noble will find expression in you. So, in all
+silence, I may show your heart what favours are granted to you.
+
+                      The Painter (_tremulously_).
+
+Am I worth it? And if you regret it to-morrow?
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I do not know a to-morrow nor a to-day. My weary sense with crippled
+wing never strays into the far future, for ah! I, poor, poor Queen,
+suffer from intense melancholy. I have too much feeling. I have told
+you that already, and then I am tired of my throne in this world of
+dreary elegance, where----
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Your Majesty! Remember the ladies there!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Ah, the ladies! No chance favours me. That you have perceived already.
+Yet there is no question of the ladies. One doesn't hear a word; the
+other sleeps, even while standing up.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Sure enough.... Yet when I consider----
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Consider nothing.... Give me only a consoling word, which in the
+sultriness of this perverted nature may penetrate my soul like a breath
+from the forest. You are a man!
+
+                  The Painter (_laughing to himself_).
+
+Who has lost his head!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+So I saw him in my dreams. I feel, too, that you could quite overflow,
+and I am a little afraid of it.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+(_Controlling himself with difficulty_.) Oh, fear nothing. I know very
+well the barrier between me and the height of your throne. Not a
+desire, not a thought, rises to you.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+And yet you think that I am beautiful?
+
+                      The Painter (_impulsively_).
+
+Yes, you are beautiful! You--(_restraining himself_). Your Majesty, I
+beg you to turn a little more to the left.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+(_Turns her head quite to the left_.) So?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Yes.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+What are you painting now?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Your hand.
+
+                  The Queen (_pointing to her face_).
+
+And it is for that, that I am to turn to the left?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I meant, just to the centre.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Is the hand well posed?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Very well.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Can you see it from where you sit?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+No, yes--(_she laughs_). Forgive me if I am talking nonsense.
+
+                 The Queen (_spreading out her hand_).
+
+Here you have it! How the sapphire sparkles! A beautiful stone!... You
+praised my face, but yet you don't say whether you like my hand.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Instead of finding fault with me, look! I have painted it.
+
+                         The Queen (_pouting_).
+
+You have indeed painted it, but you have not kissed it. From that I
+conclude that it is not attractive.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And forgive me, if I transgress the rules of your court, more from
+shyness than from want of intelligence. Even so, the sailor knows well
+the laws of the stars' movements and yet must often sail a false
+course.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+It seems as if you wished to avoid the subject. I was speaking of a
+hand--you speak of stars.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+You were speaking of your hand and that is so far from me that even the
+eternal will, the might which compels the starry heaven, brings it not
+one inch nearer to me.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Indeed, do you believe that? (_She rises and goes to the easel_.) Now
+pray what happened? You willed nothing and compelled nothing, yet
+please observe--the hand is there.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Madam, where others fell down before you, here it is my duty to warn
+you. I am not a simple shepherd, and never do I let people make game of
+me.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Ah, now it becomes interesting! You look at me as savagely as if a
+hatred quite unappeased and unappeasable possessed you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+A hatred? No, what I laughingly veiled from you was not hatred, no--yet
+_if_ I hate, I hate myself, because, dazzled with splendour, like a
+drowning man I grasp at the little words which you mockingly deal out
+to me; because, after the manner of a venal courtier, I quite forgot
+the pride of the man, and by your favour ate sweetmeats greedily from
+these hands! Yes, just show them--the white fairy[3] hands laden with
+the splendid tokens of love: yet stop--think of the end, by the holy
+God--I recognise myself no more.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+Never yet did I hear such words.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+When did you ever bow yourself to force? When did passion build you a
+throne on the ruins of the universe, the only throne to win which is
+more than an idle pastime, on which in splendid grandeur, instead of
+all the queens, sits Woman! And if a drone playing in colours ever
+indeed won a smile from you, take from me but your crown, for I, oh
+Queen, am--a man!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+(_Shrinking back to the throne_.) Enough, I should not listen to you
+any longer.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+You must. You have so willed it.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I will beg you, sir, I will conjure you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Too late. You offered me love's pay as you would throw a gold piece
+into the cap of a beggar crouching in the street, and if I, thrilled
+now by hot desire, employ the only moment of life which commits you
+into my hands, I will not have you play with me any longer. I will, and
+you--you--must--before this throne our alliance is ratified. Take away
+the hand. That, others may kiss, but I, Queen, will have the mouth. I
+will----
+
+
+                             _FIFTH SCENE_.
+
+                         THE SAME. THE MARSHAL.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+(_Who until now has listened, anxious but not altogether unfriendly,
+collects herself, and draws herself up in sudden anger_.) I deliver
+this insolent fellow to you, Marshal. Deal with him as he deserves.
+(_She goes to the door. There she stops, and gives_ The Sleepy Maid of
+Honour _two angry little blows with her fan. The latter springs up,
+bows, and goes out gravely behind_ The Queen, _with_ The Deaf Maid of
+Honour, _who has risen_.)
+
+
+                             _SIXTH SCENE_.
+
+                       THE MARSHAL. THE PAINTER.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Sir, if you wish to say a paternoster, make haste with it.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Your magnanimity affects me deeply, Marshal. But my soul carries light
+baggage. Even so, it will journey to heaven. And instead of a last
+testament, I present this portrait to you, so that, in the confusion,
+no serious danger may happen to it.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+By your will, it has become mine, and I will gladly keep it. So, draw
+your sword!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I, sir?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+So, draw!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+No, that you will never live to see!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Then why do you wear a sword?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Because I choose to.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+You are a coward.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+(_Controlling himself, with a smiling bow_.) And you are a hero! (_In
+the meanwhile the door at the centre is opened_. The Marquises _put
+their heads in, listening_. The Painter _observes it and takes his
+sword from the table where he has just laid it_.) See! As the traveller
+uses the staff to defend himself against dogs, so I must wield it. Such
+people are to be found at all doors where small men work and lie in
+wait and play the parasite. (The Marquises _draw back. The door at the
+centre is suddenly closed_.) Yet ever to bare the sword against you,
+with whom, out of a timid trustfulness, a bond, a splendid bond of
+pride, entwined me; whom of all the incompletely great men, I
+admiringly called the only great man--if ever I were to be guilty of
+such ignominy, I should not find my small share of peace even in the
+shade of the most beautiful church-yard lindens.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Are you still young?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I am not exactly old, yet my fortune has been so checkered and various
+that I joyfully had given seven every-day lives for _one_ surfeit of
+this. And in the end--however one may work and strive, it is man's
+destiny: he dies of Woman. Therefore, instead of passing away slowly
+by my own, I will quickly find my end by the wife of another. My
+chariot of victory stops indeed suddenly. I greet its well-appointed
+driver--and I greet my judge. Thrust on!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+I may be a judge, but I am not an executioner. So do me the favour----
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And fighting, let you run me through? No, Marshal! That I must refuse.
+See! Each of us two has his art. You employ the sword, I the palette.
+How would it be if I should say to you now in accordance with the
+practice of my craft: Come, we will paint on a wager? And you do not
+know the merest precept of light-value, azure, modelling. Very well,
+you are a dead man for me. Afterward you might--that is allowed
+you--come to life into the bargain, if you liked.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+You are mocking me, surely!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Surely, no! Yet every fight should be a fight on a wager. Because in a
+fight between men you are a complete man, I should like to show that I
+too can do something. You are laughing.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+One who is so nimble with his tongue has, it is said, a sure hand.
+Perhaps, too, many a device unknown to me is concealed in the wielding
+of your sword. So be quick, I pray you. I hear the sound of footsteps.
+Do you stare at me in silence?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Still a little farther to the right!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+What does that mean?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+So!--And that may not be looked at, because one is mouldering away! I
+cannot get over it. Never yet have I found lines like those, never yet
+a working so gloriously true in the frontal plexus of veins, in the
+eyebrows, as if one by pure will became a giant. The body delicate--the
+cheeks thin; for Nature when she fashions her best, makes no boast of
+vigorous strength.... The wish overpowers me--Before I die, sir, I must
+paint you.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+You seem altogether mad.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I beg you to grant me a respite. I shall be glad to let you kill me,
+yet only after your portrait is finished.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And by your creation, you hope to obtain all manner of favour, and
+quietly to escape. You are cunning indeed.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It is the peculiar pleasure of magnanimity to suspect the magnanimity
+of others.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Are you reading me a lecture?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It seems that I must. I must make an effort to win your heart's esteem,
+which is worth more to me than any amount of foolish play with briskly
+wielded swords.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+By heaven, sir, you risk a great deal!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I risk nothing. I am a man of death. The world lies behind me--a
+many-colored picture which God has bestrewed with crumbs of white
+bread, where each one snatches up and devours and yet does not satisfy
+his appetite. Only in intoxication can a child of fortune know how the
+flowers beneath bloom and wither. I have been able to, and my soul with
+every new work drank to satiety. What matters it if life has deceived
+me? I asked nothing of it--that was my strength. You see I am
+pronouncing my obituary. Yet I depart gladly.... Already the new host
+approaches and swarms for me in forests and on plains: What matters it
+that this hand was mortal; for the portraying is as eternal as the
+image.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+You are mistaken. Only the deed is eternal. If with bloody sword it did
+not teach mankind to remember, I should perish like a seed sown by the
+wind.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It is you who are mistaken, sir. Not your deed has life. It soon
+follows you into the grave. The portrait of the dead which we give to
+posterity, in song and form, in parchment and stone, this it is which
+belongs to immortality. By this you shall be hereafter loved and
+hated.--So even if Achilles destroys the whole world, he has but to let
+Homer live.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And so I, you? Yet no song tells us that Homer ever kneeled before
+Helen.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Not that. But every child knows why: the poor singer was blind.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Your brush, alas, will not help you at all. Yet I should be well
+disposed toward you. For he who in death seems to remain a trifler, has
+taken life in earnest.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+That is true.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+I am sorry for you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Without cause, I assure you!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And why could you not be silent? How did you so dare, contrary to good
+reason to climb to your Queen? Did nothing within you say: this is a
+crime?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+You call it crime--I call it folly!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Do you pursue your secret pleasures, then, like a sly, cold-hearted
+thief? The one thing fails which spoke in your favour, the almighty
+love which disturbs the brain!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Marshal, see, love is a tribute which we piously pay to eternal
+beauty; and since Nature in creative pride has poured it forth out of
+her fulness, how should we in fretful resignation say: "This one I
+love--not that one"? In my love, I love only the picture which proceeds
+from the lap of pure forms; even as this Queen bestows it as a favour,
+so it sheds its light far and near; and wherever a picture invites me
+to a banquet, my heart is present without delay.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Yet I ask you whether _this_ picture invited you to a banquet. Speak
+quickly--by my sword!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+You know very well that no gallant man should move an eyelash at such a
+question.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+You do not love her--only like a faun you make bold to court her madly.
+(_Taking hold of him_.) But I love her, and for this reason, you must
+die.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Forgive me if I am surprised at your logic. It is a great honour
+for me to know whom you love; moreover, you have already told
+me repeatedly that I must die; yet that you are confused as to
+this--is--indeed--only--temper. And see, it is but proper that you love
+her. The contrary--according to court manners and practice--would be
+unnatural. Yet the more important question seems to be: does she love
+you? You look away. Very well, I will tell you. She has met you with
+smiles and furtive questions, with sweet glances, half longingly, has
+promised you a thousand delights and gradually has subdued you and your
+obstinacy. Yet if it involved keeping her promises, she would
+understand how to wrap herself in her innocence.----It was so--was it
+not? You are silent, because you are ashamed of the game. Pardon me,
+sir, if I irritate your wounds.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+It seems you set spies at the door!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Why spies? Eve's old practice, that, Marshal, I know well. Yet what
+lies behind it, whether true love or not, for you or me, cannot be
+deciphered. If I should survive the duel, she would probably love _me_:
+yet because it is decreed that by your arm, you should be the victor in
+this absurd quarrel, she will love you, Marshal. Where woman's glory
+rules the world, that is the law--so says natural history. Do you say
+nothing?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+A poison is distilled from your words which eats into the very marrow
+of my soul.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Only the truth! I swear it, I promise it! And since against my wish I
+am still very much alive, because of your favour, be of use to me, sir,
+in an experiment.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Explain yourself!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+In order to know exactly how you are thought of in the highest place,
+you must perish in the duel.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+In the duel?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Understand me rightly: only in appearance.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And my reputation as a swordsman goes with it into the bargain.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Oh, not at all! You will get up again.
+
+                       The Marshal (_laughing_).
+
+My friend, I am not sorry that you are still alive. I have become
+reconciled with you, and I who have dared a great deal in toil and
+strife, am astonished at the extent of your courage. Very well, what
+your cunning mind has devised for your escape, I accept. Yet woe to you
+if this time you do not win! And now to the work!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Come on!... Yet no, by your leave! So that they may believe the
+incredible about me, I will arrange the thing in naturalistic fashion.
+(_He draws his sword_.) Is the door locked? (_He walks to the door at
+the centre, and points his sword at the keyhole_.) Eyes away! I am
+going to thrust! (_A scream is uttered in the antechamber_.) And now
+look out! I am going to mark horrid pools of spilt blood! (_He mixes
+colours on the palette, and hands the_ Marshal _his sword_.) Hold it, I
+beg you. (_He smears the sword blade with his brush_.)
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+My blood!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Without doubt! _Merci_. (_Takes back his sword_.) Just one tap upon the
+breast. Yet in case you wish that I spare the waistcoat?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+By no means! That would be too much loss of blood!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Just as you please. (_He moves the easel and table to one side.
+Softly_.) And make no mistake, the door will open at the first clash of
+blades.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Are you ready?
+
+                (The Painter _nods assent. They fence_.)
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Famous.... Do you know that feint?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It is a good one, is it not?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Who taught you that?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And this!...
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+There you missed the quint.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Damnation!...
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Ah, that was admirable!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Yet at painting I do better.... Is any one listening?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+They are huddled together in a confused group.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Now, if you please!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Only be at it!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Be careful of the throne, or you will get a bump if you fall! (_He
+lunges at_ The Marshal, _far under the armpit_. The Marshal _falls_.
+The Marquises _who are pressing in at the half-open door, draw back in
+horror_.)
+
+
+                            _SEVENTH SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. THE MARQUIS IN PINK. THE MARQUIS IN PALE BLUE. THE OTHER
+MARQUISES.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Listen to me, gentlemen! What are you about in there? Stay and bear
+witness to what you saw.
+
+              The Marquis In Pink (_approaching timidly_).
+
+We stand benumbed at such a glorious deed.
+
+                 The Marquis In Pale Blue (_likewise_).
+
+And we are almost beside ourself with admiration.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+What? Really dead?
+
+                      The Painter (_tauntingly_).
+
+Sir, you seem to be in doubt?
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+Oh, dear man, how could you think it? I wished only to afford myself
+the rapture of seeing whether you had altogether freed us.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Yes, indeed, freed! For even although you hated him, you can never
+imagine how, in the chambers of this castle, he has trodden on our
+dignity.
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+He stalked about, puffed up with self-conceit, and when we were rising
+in the esteem of his or her majesty----
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Then came this man with a couple of new triumphs.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+How odious!
+
+                          The Marquis In Pink.
+
+If you please, sir, how we have laughed when his dear name rang through
+all the streets after some brand-new fight! As the clever man is aware,
+fools advertise fools. And without going too near him, I will----
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+There, wait!
+
+               (All The Marquises _starting With fear_.)
+
+                   The Marquis In Pink (_trembling_).
+
+You said?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+I said nothing at all.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+Yet plainly----
+
+
+                            _EIGHTH SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. THE VALET DE CHAMBRE. THE QUEEN. THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR. THE
+SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR.
+
+                        The Valet (_announces_).
+
+Her Majesty!
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+I heard a rumour which greatly displeased me and troubled my peace of
+mind extremely. Is it true?... There lies the great hero; and truly, in
+death he seems even more insignificant than he was--as insignificant as
+one of the most insignificant. Yet mourn with me! We have had a great
+loss. Even if ambition urge you on with a double spur, many a fine day
+will come and go before his like will be born to us.
+
+               (The Marshal _clears his throat softly_.)
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+May his courtliness, too, be pleasantly remembered! After his campaign
+he always brought back to his Queen the best of the splendid spoil of
+his booty. That touched my royal heart and will be cited as a glorious
+example. And yet now to you ... What did they say to me? It sounds
+almost untrue and unnatural: are you the David of our Goliath? I use
+the term "Goliath" only figuratively. For though we are mourning at his
+bier, it cannot be said that he was a giant. Yet we know his
+disposition was haughty. (The Marquises _eagerly assent_.) Surely he
+broke in upon you in sudden anger? You are silent out of generosity. So
+I will graciously forgive this fault and another fault too. (The
+Painter _clears his throat softly. She stretches out her hand to him,
+which he kisses_.) And be not grieved! (_To_ The Marquises.) Does not
+what has happened seem almost like a judgment of God?
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+It is true! Here a higher power has been at work.
+
+                        The Deaf Maid Of Honour.
+
+Pardon me, your Majesty! The Marshal is laughing.
+
+                 The Marquises (_muttering in horror_).
+
+Is he laughing? Is he laughing? (_Silence_.)
+
+                        The Marshal (_rising_).
+
+Madam, forgive me! In the fight a sudden fainting fit overcame me.
+
+                       The Marquis in Pale Blue.
+
+(_Pointing at_ The Painter's _sword lying on the floor_.) And what is
+this blood? (_Movement by_ The Painter.)
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Until the return to my senses relieved me (_with emphasis_) of _this_
+trouble and _another_ trouble.
+
+                               The Queen.
+
+(_Quickly collecting herself. Sharply_.) My congratulations, sir! And
+my sympathy as well! What has happened to you gives me unspeakable
+distress. The court atmosphere is indeed rather close, and seems
+insupportable to great conquerors; which often betrays itself in wrong
+fancies and swoons. Therefore I am obliged to exercise my power as
+Queen, and protect your good health against danger. Jean, announce me
+to his Majesty! (_Exit_ Jean _on the left_. The Queen, _punishing_ The
+Painter _with a glance of unspeakable scorn, follows slowly. The two
+Maids of Honour go after her_.)
+
+
+                             _NINTH SCENE_.
+
+THE MARSHAL. THE PAINTER. THE MARQUISES (_in the background_).
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+I thank you, sir! The mists are dissipated. The eye sees clearly once
+more; the will has a free hand.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+But I was silently executed. Did you notice her look?
+
+               The Marshal (_pointing at_ The Marquises).
+
+Of looks, there are sufficient.
+
+                The Painter (_snatching up his sword_).
+
+Oho! I am always expecting foul play.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+For what reason? Get along with you! Get along with you! Be quick!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+It is true. You are right. Here, we are ruined.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And what is to become of you?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+That has never troubled me. The world is wide. One can walk about it,
+and find something to sketch by the way.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+How would it be if you went with me?
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Where?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+To the camp.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Yes, and what is there?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Plenty for you! You will find gay fare, and pastimes and diversions. As
+much as you want.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And are there fights too?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Indeed, there are!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And will there be a bold reconnoissance by night?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Often.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Capital! I will ride with you. In my mind's eye I see already golden
+moonrise, and silver vapour on the dark alder bush.... Are there also
+songs and notes of the mandolin?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Plenty of them!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Hurrah! There is music too!
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And in the story-telling by night at the camp-fire many a tale of human
+destiny will be unfolded to you.
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+A world of pictures! (_More softly_.) And love adventures?
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+If you choose to call them "adventures."
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Agreed, sir! And an excess of happiness will flow out of my soul like a
+prayer.--Yet it seems I am forgetting the greatest happiness. I shall
+be with you. I may paint you.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Take care!
+
+
+                             _TENTH SCENE_.
+
+THE SAME. THE VALET DE CHAMBRE. THE QUEEN. THE TWO MAIDS OF HONOUR.
+
+                                 Valet.
+
+Your Majesty!
+
+(The Queen _rustles over from the left to the right, without bestowing
+a glance on the two men. At the door on the right she gives the_ Valet
+_a scroll with which he advances. Then she goes out, followed by the
+Maids of Honour_.)
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Now the hastily contrived reward of our misdeeds is at hand. (_To_
+Jean.) My noble sir, bestir yourself. (_To_ The Painter.) That is the
+handsome Jean as an angel of justice! (_He unfolds the scroll and
+reads, laughing_.)
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+And to me, what do you bring to me?
+
+                               The Valet.
+
+(_With an expression of awkward contempt_.) You?--Nothing!
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+Exquisite!
+
+                               The Valet.
+
+But yes! Your reward shall be meted out to you in the office of the
+Marshal of the court.
+
+                        The Painter (_amused_).
+
+Indeed?
+
+                               The Valet.
+
+Yes! (_Behind the scenes on the right are heard cries of "Jean!
+Jean!"_)
+
+                        The Deaf Maid of Honour.
+
+(_Hurries in from the right_.) Jean! Have you forgotten her Majesty?
+
+                         The Valet (_sweetly_).
+
+Oh, no! Tell her Majesty I am coming directly.
+
+                      The Painter and The Marshal.
+
+          (_Look at each other, and break out into laughter_.)
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+Look, look, my friend! He seems to have got into bad habits.
+
+                    The Painter (_pointing at him_).
+
+It is rightly so. I had almost begged him, at the court where we men
+are forbidden, proudly to represent the eternal masculine. (_Laughing,
+they both bow to him_.)
+
+                          (_Exit_ The Valet.)
+
+                              The Painter.
+
+But we are going into the flowery open, to our merry pursuits.
+
+                              The Marshal.
+
+And to combat! (_They walk arm in arm, bowing right and left, toward
+the door, past_ The Marquises, _who, without hiding their disrespect,
+nevertheless recognise them in a not uncourtly fashion_.)
+
+
+
+                                Curtain.
+
+
+
+                               FOOTNOTE:
+
+[Footnote 1: Milchbart--literally "milky beard."]
+
+[Footnote 2: The colonel.]
+
+[Footnote 3: The document is defective here--showing "--iry." I have
+inserted the word "fairy" based on context.--Transcriber]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Morituri: Three One-Act Plays, by Hermann Sudermann
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MORITURI: THREE ONE-ACT PLAYS ***
+
+***** This file should be named 34359-8.txt or 34359-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/3/5/34359/
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web 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.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+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
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.