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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text 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. 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Teja--Fritzchen--The Eternal Masculine</title> +<meta name="Author" content="Hermann Sudermann"> +<meta name="Publisher" content="Charles Scribner's Sons"> +<meta name="Date" content="1910"> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> +body {margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; background-color:#FFFFFF;} + + +p.normal {text-indent:.25in; text-align: justify;} +p.center {text-align:center; margin-top:9pt;} + + +p.right {text-align:right; margin-right:20%;} + +p.continue {text-indent: 0in; margin-top:9pt;} +.text10 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:10%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} +.text20 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:20%; margin-right:0px; font-size:90%;} + +.t0 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:0em; margin-right:0px;} +.t1 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:1em; margin-right:0px;} +.t2 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:2em; margin-right:0px;} +.t3 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:3em; margin-right:0px;} +.t4 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:4em; margin-right:0px;} +.t5 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:5em; margin-right:0px;} +.t6 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:6em; margin-right:0px;} +.t7 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:7em; margin-right:0px;} +.t8 {margin-top:0px; margin-bottom:0px; margin-left:8em; margin-right:0px;} + +.quote {font-size:90%; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} +.dateline {text-align:right; font-size:90%; margin-right:10%; margin-top:24pt; margin-bottom:24pt} + +h1,h2,h3,h4,h5 {text-align: center;} + +span.sc {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:100%; font-weight:bold} +span.sc2 {font-variant: small-caps; font-size:90%; font-weight:bold} + +hr.W10 {width:10%; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt; + color:black;} + +hr.W20 {width:20%; margin-top:12pt; margin-bottom:12pt; + color:black;} + +hr.W50 {width:50%; margin-top:12pt; color:black;} +hr.W90 {width:90%; margin-top:12pt; color:black;} + +p.hang1 {margin-left:1em; text-indent:-1em;} +p.hang2 {margin-left:1em; text-indent:0em;} + +.poem { + margin-top: 24pt; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + text-align: left; + margin-bottom: 24pt + } + .poem .stanza { + margin : 1em 0; + margin-top:24pt; + } + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +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 + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Notes:<br> + 1. Page scan source:<br> + http://www.archive.org/details/moriturithreeone00sudeiala<br> +<br> + 2. See footnote 3 explaining correction of printing error.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<table style="width:60%; margin-left:20%; border-top:solid black 2px; +border-bottom:solid black 2px; border-right:solid black 2px; border-left:solid black 2px"> +<tr><td> +<h3>BOOKS BY HERMANN SUDERMANN</h3> +<h4><span class="sc">Published By CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</span></h4> + +<hr class="W90"> +<p class="hang1">The Joy of Living (<i>Es Lebe das Leben</i>). A Play in Five +Acts. Translated from the German by Edith Wharton. <i>net</i> $1.25</p> + +<p class="hang1">Roses. Four One-Act Plays. Translated from the German by Grace +Frank. +<i>net</i> $1.25</p> + +<p class="hang1">Morituri. Three One-Act Plays. Translated from the German by +Archibald Alexander. <i>net</i> $1.25</p></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>MORITURI</h1> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h1>MORITURI</h1> + +<h2>THREE ONE-ACT PLAYS</h2> + +<h3>TEJA--FRITZCHEN--THE ETERNAL MASCULINE</h3> +<br> +<br> +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>HERMANN SUDERMANN</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h4>TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN</h4> + +<h5>BY</h5> + +<h3>ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</h2> +<h2>NEW YORK::::::::::::::::::::::::1910</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3><span class="sc">Copyright, 1910, by</span><br> + + CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br> + + Published September, 1910</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + +<div style="margin-left:20%"> +<p class="continue"><a name="div1Ref_teja" href="#div1_teja">Teja</a></p> + +<p class="continue"><a name="div1Ref_fritzchen" href="#div1_fritzchen">Fritzchen</a></p> + +<p class="continue"><a name="div1Ref_masculine" href="#div1_masculine">The Eternal Masculine</a></p> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>I</h2> + +<h1><a name="div1_teja" href="#div1Ref_teja">Teja</a></h1> + +<h2>A DRAMA IN ONE ACT</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<table style="width:90%; margin-left:5%"> +<colgroup><col style="width:40%"><col style="width:5%"><col style="width:55%"></colgroup> +<tr> +<td colspan="3"><h2>PERSONS</h2></td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Teja</span>, King of the Goths.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Balthilda</span>, Queen.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Amalaberga</span>, her mother.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Agila</span>,</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Bishop</span>.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td><span class="sc2">Euric</span></td> +<td rowspan="3" style="vertical-align:middle; font-size:48pt">}</td> +<td rowspan="3" style="vertical-align:middle;">Lords in the former kingdom of +the Goths.</td> +<td></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><span class="sc2">Theodemir</span></td> +</tr><tr> +<td><span class="sc2">Athanaric</span></td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Ildibad</span>, spearbearer of the King.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Haribalt</span>, a warrior.</td> +</tr><tr> +<td colspan="3"><span class="sc2">Two Camp Watchers</span>.</td> +</tr></table> + + + + +<h2>Teja</h2> +<br> + +<p class="normal"><i>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.</i></p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIRST SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">TWO CAMP WATCHERS</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ho thou! Art thou fallen asleep?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why should I be fallen asleep?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Because thou leanest so limber upon thy spear, bent like the +bow of a Hun.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I stand so bent, because thus hunger gripes me less.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">'Tis of no avail. It availeth as little as thy belt. +Afterward, in standing upright, it is the more severe.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How long is this to last?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Until the ships come--that is simple indeed.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, but when are the ships coming?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Verily, if the Byzantian let them pass.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Byzantian hath no ships.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">These seven weeks!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Think'st thou the King had more?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There is gold enough.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, the wives are there well enough--thou hast none, I +suppose.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">A Greek dishonoured mine, and I stabbed him to death! (<i>Pauses</i>.) +Good! The wives must have meat; they must have wine too. But how long that-- (<i>Noise +and clash of weapons, slowly approaching</i>.) There, the marriage is surely +ended.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Silence! There cometh the aged Ildibad--with the King's +shield. (<i>Both put themselves on guard</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SECOND SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">ILDIBAD</span>.</p> + + +<p class="normal">(<i>Hangs the shield in its place, and puts away the weapons +lying about</i>.) Hath any news been sent down?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are ye hungry?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Camp Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, yea.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hunger is for women--mark ye that! And show not such dark +faces to our young Queen. That becometh not a marriage day.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>THIRD SCENE</i>.</h2> + +<p class="normal"><i>Surrounded by noisy people</i>, <span class="sc2">Teja </span><i> +and </i><span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>have appeared in front of the +tent. They enter led by </i><span class="sc2">Bishop Agila</span>. <i>Before +them, two choir-boys swinging censers. Behind them</i>, <span class="sc2"> +Amalaberga</span>, <span class="sc2">Euric</span>, +<span class="sc2">Athanaric</span>, <span class="sc2">Theodemir</span>, <i>and +other lords and military leaders. The tent covers are let down. Exeunt the +watchers</i>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Bishop </span><i>lets go the hands of the +bridal pair, and turns back to </i> +<span class="sc2">Amalaberga</span>.) + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Teja </span><i>stands gloomy and brooding</i>. <span class="sc2"> +Balthilda </span><i>casts a shy imploring look around her. Painful silence</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> +<br> +<p class="normal">Now must thou say something, King, to welcome thy young wife.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> +<br> +<p class="normal">Must I? (<i>Taking +one of the choir-boys by the nape of the neck</i>.) Not so vehemently, boy; the +smoke cometh up into our nostrils. What dost thou when thou wieldest not thy +censer?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Boy</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I wield my sword, King.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That is right. But make ye haste with wielding the sword, or +ye may easily be too late. (<i>Softly</i>.) Nothing to be seen of the ships, +Ildibad?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nothing, my King. But thou must speak to thy young wife.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea ... so now I have a wife, Bishop?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Here standeth thy wife. King, and waiteth on thy word.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">King ... my mother ... taught me ... (<i>She stops</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>with assumed kindness</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And what taught thee thy mother?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Amalaberga</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That a wife belongeth to her husband--above all, in the hour +of distress; she taught her that, King.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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,</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Amalaberga</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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. (<span class="sc2">Amalaberga </span><i>bows</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Heh! Thou hast but now spoken so beautifully at the +field-altar,</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dost thou desire to preach so soon again?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I will speak to thee, because bitterness devoureth thy soul.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Verily? Thou thinkest it? Then I give ear.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That it surely doth, ha, ha! Not a mouse can come through.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Our gaze wandereth wistfully seaward: for thence hath God +promised us bread.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No tidings of the ships?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span> (softly). Nothing.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Found ye that your King loved life overmuch?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thou art the King, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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--(<i>shudders</i>)--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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My King, take heed lest thou be angry.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank thee, friend. Yet that signifieth nothing. It is but +my marriage humour.... But now I will speak to ye in earnest--(<i>Ascends to the +high seat of the throne</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Who on the right has secretly spoken in bewilderment to a watcher who has +just entered</i>.) Yea, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What have we still in our stores, old man?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span> (<i>controlling his emotion</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Truly, thou hast given away almost all thy provisions.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I ask thee, what remaineth?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">A jar of fermented milk, and two stale crusts of bread.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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--</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<i>To </i><span class="sc2">Ildibad</span>, +<i>who glides across the stage to his side</i>) What is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">The watch departeth. The ships are lost.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Without the least change of countenance</i>.) +Lost--how--in what way?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Treason.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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. (<i>Sinks reeling upon the seat of the throne, and +gazes absently into the distance</i>.) The Men. What aileth the King? Look to +the King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Surely he is hungry, mother. (<i>Approaches him. The men draw +back</i>.) My King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Who art thou, woman? What wilt thou, woman?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Can I help thee, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, it is thou, the Queen! Pardon me; and pardon me, also, ye +men. (<i>Rises</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">King, thou must husband thy strength. Theoderic. Yea, King, +for the sake of us all. The Men. For the sake of us all.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Amalaberga</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Make thy obeisance, child!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Mother, will he speak no more to me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Amalaberga</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Make thy obeisance! (<i>Balthilda obeys</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fare ye well! (<i>Exeunt </i><span class="sc2">Balthilda</span>, <span class="sc2">Amalaberga</span>, +<span class="sc2">Bishop</span>. <i>Shouts of applause without, greet them</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FOURTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Theodemir. Euric.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The Watcher. The Lords.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hereby ye know, men: the ships are lost. (<i>Tumult. Cries of +horror</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Quiet, friends, quiet! Thy name is Haribalt. Watcher. Yea, +Sire!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How long hast thou stood at thy post? Watcher. Since early +yesterday, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where are thy two companions? Watcher. They remain above, as +thou hast commanded, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Stay! What signal bare the ships? Watcher. The foresail bound +crosswise and----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And? Watcher. A palm branch at the stern.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ye saw the palm branch? Watcher. As I see thee, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Good, go on. Watcher. Then we perceived that the fishing-boats +with which the Byzantians take their food, closely surrounded the ships, and +then----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What then? Watcher. Verily, Sire, they steered quite peaceably +toward the camp of the enemy. There they unloaded. (<i>The men cover their +heads. Silence</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Who looks, smiling, from one to the other</i>.) It is +good.... That is: thou shalt say nothing there without.... From me they should +learn it. (<i>Exit Watcher</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIFTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>. <span class="sc2">TEJA</span>. <span class="sc2">THEODEMIR</span>. <span class="sc2">EURIC</span>. <span class="sc2">ATHANARIC </span><i>and the </i> +<span class="sc2">OTHERS</span>. <span class="sc2">LORDS</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Your counsel, ye men!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, we have none to give.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And thou, Euric, with all thy wisdom? Euric. Sire, I have +served the great Theoderic. And yet he would have had none to give.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No Gothic man doeth that, King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">All</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, that is impossible.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">King, consider, we are one against a hundred.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And thou, Euric? Euric. Sire, thou leadest us to destruction.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">All</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay, King, +nay! Euric. Sire, grant us time to accustom ourselves to that horrible thing.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span> (<i>falling down before him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank thee, Sire! Why ask whether I come!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">All</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">We too, King. We all, we all!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">We, surely not!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">All</span> (<i>with cruel laughter</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wife and child! Wife and child! What have we to do with them? +Athanaric. King, thou revilest the dearest of our possessions.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And wilt thou thyself nevermore see thy young wife?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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! (<i>Exeunt +all, with </i><span class="sc2">Ildibad </span><i>slowly following</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SIXTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="hang1"><i>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</i>. <span class="sc2">Ildibad </span><i>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</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SEVENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">ILDIBAD</span>. <span class="sc2">BISHOP AGILA</span> (<i>tottering in with exhaustion and excitement</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilt thou not be seated, most worthy lord?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And goest thou not to hear what the King saith?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That hath naught to do with me, most worthy lord. The King and +I--for a long time, we are united in action.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Verily, he standeth there like the angel of death.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Whether angel or devil, it is the same for me. (<i>The shout +of enthusiasm rises anew and approaches the tent</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>EIGHTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">THE KING</span> (<i>with flaming eyes, pale yet calm</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are the weapons in order?--Ah, 'tis thou, Bishop!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">King, my King!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Surely, thou shall now be driven to seek another flock,</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilt thou but give me thy blessing, pray give it quickly.... +Theodemir is about to come.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And dost thou know thyself to be free, my son, from the +trembling of every dying creature?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My son, I understand thee not.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">For that I am sorry, my father.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And hast thou taken leave?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Leave--of whom? Rather have I a mind to cry "welcome"; but yet +nothing is there!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span> (<i>indignantly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I speak of thy wife, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At this hour, I know only men,</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Of wives I know nothing. Farewell! (<i>Enter </i><span class="sc2">Theodemir </span> +<i>and </i><span class="sc2">Ildibad</span>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Bishop</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Farewell--and God be gracious to thy soul!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank thee, Bishop.... Ah, there art thou, Theodemir. (<i>Exit </i> +<span class="sc2">Bishop Agila</span>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>NINTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">TEJA</span>. <span class="sc2">THEODEMIR</span>. <span class="sc2"> +ILDIBAD</span> (<i>in the background, occupied with the King's weapons, going +noiselessly in and out</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What are the warriors doing?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">They who have their wives here, are gone to the Wagenburg.... +There they will surely eat and drink and play with their children.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And is thy wife here also?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, Sire!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And thy children?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Two boys, Sire!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And thou didst not go?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I waited on thy call, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What hour is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The ninth, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And what do they who are free--the unmarried, and they whose +wives are not here?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">They lie by the fires and are silent. (<i>Exit </i><span class="sc2"> +Ildibad</span>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">See to it that something is brought to them also. I already +ordered it. Will they sleep?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No one will sleep.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At midnight, come and fetch me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, Sire. (<i>Makes as if to go</i>.) Teja (<i>with a shade +of anxiety</i>). Theodemir, stay!... Thou hast always been my adversary.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I was, Sire. For a long time I have ceased to be.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>stretches out his arms</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Come! (<i>They hold each other in a close embrace; then they +clasp hands</i>.) I would fain hold thee here, but truly thou must go to thy +wife. (<span class="sc2">Ildibad </span><i>again enters</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, Sire. (<i>Exit</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>TENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">TEJA</span>. <span class="sc2">ILDIBAD</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now, my old man, we should have nothing further to do +upon this earth. Shall we talk?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, if I might beg a favour for myself.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Still favours, at this time?... I believe thou wouldst flatter +me, old companion!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>With a new gleam of deep anxiety</i>.) Go, but not far +away.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Good-night! (<i>Exit </i><span class="sc2">Ildibad</span>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>ELEVENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">TEJA</span>. <i>Afterward </i><span class="sc2">BALTHILDA</span>. +(<span class="sc2">TEJA </span><i>left alone, throws himself on his couch, staring +straight before him with a bitter, wearied smile</i>. <span class="sc2">BALTHILDA </span><i>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</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>half rising</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Who art thou?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>feebly and timidly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Knowest thou me not, King?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>rising from his couch</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">The torches burn +dimly.... Thy voice I have heard before!... What wilt thou of me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I am indeed thy wife, King.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>after a silence</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And what wilt thou of me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My mother sendeth me. I am to bring thee food and wine. The +others eat and drink, and so my mother saith---- (<i>She stops</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How didst thou enter here?... Did not the watch forbid thee to +enter?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>drawing herself up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I am the Queen, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, verily. And Ildibad, what said he?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thy old spearbearer lay and slept. I stepped across him, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank thee, Balthilda.... I am not hungry. I thank thee. (<i>Silence</i>. +<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>stands and looks tearfully at him</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I see, thou hast still a request to make of me. I pray thee, +speak!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>smiling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And what shall the men say?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">He esteemeth her so little that--he consenteth not to take +food from her hand.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then indeed must ye have been mightily hungry, ye women?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, it hath done us no hurt, Sire.... It was for a feast.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">In truth? Ye believed we should celebrate a feast to-day?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well ... is it then not a feast, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Is silent and bites his nether lip, examining her +furtively</i>.) Wilt thou not be seated, Balthilda?... I should not yet let thee +go home! That too would be a reproach, would it not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>is silent and +looks down</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And if I bade thee, wouldst thou wish to stay?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, how should a wife not wish to stay beside her husband?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hast thou then the feeling in thy heart, that +I--am--thy--husband?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The Bishop hath joined us +together.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And wert thou glad when he did it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea.... Nay, I was not glad then.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>with a bright glance</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Perhaps because, because ... I was afraid, Sire, and I was praying.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What didst thou pray?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Which I from thee--that didst thou pray?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, may I not offer thee the food, and the wine?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay, nay!... Hearken, Balthilda: without, by our fires, are +warriors--they are hungry--I am not hungry.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, give them what thou pleasest ... give them everything!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank thee, Balthilda. (<i>Raising the curtain</i>.) Ho +there, watch! Come in, but +prudently so as not to wake the old man.... (<i>Watcher enters</i>.) Here, take +this basket with food and wine, and divide it honestly.... Say your Queen sends +it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Watcher</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">May I thank the Queen, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Teja </span><i>nods</i>. <span class="sc2">Watcher </span><i>shakes +her hand heartily. Exit</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Go--and bring me to eat!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">Balthilda (<i>perplexed</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire--why--mockest thou--me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dost thou then not understand me? If thou wilt be my wife, +thou must offer me my property, not thine!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Is not all of mine thy property, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hm! (<i>Silence. He takes her hands.</i>) Call me not Sire and +call me not King.... Knowest thou not my name?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thy name is Teja!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Say it yet once again! Balthilda (<i>softly, turning away</i>). +Teja!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Is the name so strange to thee? (<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>shakes her head</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then why hesitate?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And before thou knewest it, what was then thy thought?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, why dost thou ask?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And why dost thou not answer?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That hast thou thought?--That hast thou----?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, was it wrong that I should think it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire--I----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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! (<i>He sinks to his seat overcome with anguish, and stares +straight before him</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>with a shy attempt at a caress</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">My poor dear King! Dear Teja!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Raises his head and looks confusedly around him</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, Sire, how thou dost fret thyself!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>anxiously</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Didst thou ever see him?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Never.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>eagerly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Is it not so?--Is it not so?--How ... Ah, that +doeth good! (<i>Stretching himself</i>.) Ah, thou doest me good!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How proud thou makest me, Sire!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But hadst thou seen him and compared him to me, thou wouldst +spit upon me! Balthilda (<i>fervently</i>). I should have seen only thee, Sire +dear, dear Sire!</p> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Teja </span><i>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</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Follows him shyly and kneels down beside him</i>.) Teja, +beloved, if I hurt thee, pardon me!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>rises and grasps her arm</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Tell it to no one!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That thou hast seen me weep! Swear it to me!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">If thou art a piece of my body, then come nearer to me, that +thou mayst not see my tears.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Let me dry them for thee! See, for this cause am I here.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How should I laugh at thee, beloved?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I am hungry.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>springing up in surprise</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Alas, surely thou hast given everything away!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, by no means! Go just over there, wilt thou? (<i>She obeys</i>.) +Behind my couch--seest thou the fireplace?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Here where the ashes lie?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There standeth a chest?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilt thou open the lid?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, it is heavy!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now feel within! Deep, deep!... There Ildibad the old +miser--well?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>disappointedly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">A couple of bread crusts; is that all, Sire?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There is indeed nothing more.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">May I not then go quickly over to the Wagenburg?... Perhaps +still ...</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea. (<i>She sits beside him</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I fear there is not enough for thee.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay, that is against the agreement.... So.... Is it not good +to the taste?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To me nothing hath ever tasted half so sweet.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And better than those without, with meat and wine--do we not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, did I not tell thee?... But thou hast a bad seat!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay, I am seated well!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Come, stand up! Pray, stand up! Balthilda (<i>rising</i>). +Well?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sit there, just above! Balthilda (<i>terrified</i>). Upon the +throne--for God's sake--how dare I----?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Art thou not then the Queen? Balthilda (<i>decidedly</i>). If +I must sit there in earnest! But in jest--nay!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, the stupid bit of wood! (<i>He hurls down the throne</i>.) +At least it should be of use for something!... So now lean against it!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Beloved, doest thou justly?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>surprised</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay! (<i>He +sets the throne up again, leads her to her former place, and places her head +against the seat</i>.) 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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There, take!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Still--remain quite still! I shall fetch it for myself. (<i>He +kneels upon the podium beside her</i>.) 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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Never knew!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Never had a sister.... No one.... Never played in my life.... +That I am surely learning last not least.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why last not least?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ask not--nay? Ah thou, thou! Ha, ha, ha! Pray eat! Bite from +mine--yea? Obediently--thou knowest what the Bishop said?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>bites +and then springs up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">But wilt thou not also drink?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, surely! Bring me only the milk jar! Bring me only the milk +jar.... Thou knowest the one that Ildibad told us of.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>who has +walked across</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Is this the one?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>rising</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">That is indeed it. +But thou also must drink.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Is it fitting so?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I know not. It should be!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So be it, then. (<i>She drinks and shakes with laughter</i>.) +Ugh! That hath a bad taste.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Give it to me. (<i>He drinks</i>.) Nay! (<i>He drinks again</i>.) +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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I will love thee!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thou--my wife! Thou ... (<i>They fly into one another's arms. +Softly</i>.) And wilt thou not kiss me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>shakes her head, ashamed</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>again shakes her head</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet tell me, why not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I will tell thee in thine ear.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thou hast a downy beard.<a name="div2Ref_01" href="#div2_01"><sup>[1]</sup></a></p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Wipes his month in terror, then in assumed anger</i>.) +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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">A--downy--beard.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Now, wait!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>TWELFTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">ILDIBAD</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, thou calledst? (<i>He stands rigid with astonishment, +and is about to retire silently</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>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</i>.) Stop, stay, what happens without?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The warriors return from the Wagenburg, sire, and most of the +wives come with them.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are the leaders assembled?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">They might have patience for a moment more.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">For I also have a wife.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Ildibad</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, verily, Sire.</p> + +<p class="center">[<i>Exit</i>.]</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>THIRTEENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">TEJA</span>. <span class="sc2">BALTHILDA</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Teja, beloved, what happeneth to thee?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Remains standing before her and takes her head in his +hands</i>.) 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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, what dost thou require of me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thou wilt not entreat and wilt not cry out?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nay, Sire.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The day draweth nigh. Before us standeth death.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, I understand thee not. None can attack us, and until the +ships come----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The ships come never more.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Balthilda </span><i>strokes herself on +the cheeks, and then stands motionless</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But we men are going forth upon the field, to fight.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That can ye not do--that is surely--impossible.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">We must. Art thou the Queen, and perceivest not that we must?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea--I--per--ceive--it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The King fights in the foremost rank, and we shall see each +other no more alive.... Knowest thou that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Balthilda</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yea, I know it!... (<i>Silence. They look at each other</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thy blessing will I have upon the way. (<i>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</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Springs up and tears back the curtain</i>.) Enter, who +waiteth there!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FOURTEENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">AMALABERGA</span>, <span class="sc2"> +EURIC</span>, <span class="sc2">AGILA</span>, <span class="sc2">ATHANARIC</span>, <span class="sc2"> +THEODEMIR</span>, <i>and other leaders</i>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Amalaberga</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">King, I sent my child to thee.... I hear ye men have to +act.... Give her again to me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Here hast thou thy child! (<i>Exeunt </i><span class="sc2">Amalaberga </span><i>and </i> +<span class="sc2">Balthilda</span>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIFTEENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <i>Except </i><span class="sc2"> +AMALABERGA </span><i>and </i><span class="sc2">BALTHILDA</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Stares after them, rouses himself, and perceives the +Bishop</i>.) Bishop, I treated thee basely this evening. Forgive me and have my +thanks, for surely I also know why the Goth loveth death.... (<i>Grasps his +sword</i>.) Now be ye ready? Have the farewells been said?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And then have cried ah and woe?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Theodemir</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sire, they have silently kissed the blessing of death upon our +brows.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Teja</span> (<i>exclaims half to himself</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">They also! (<i>Aloud</i>.) Truly we are a nation of kings. It +is our misfortune. So come! (<i>He strides to the background. The others follow. +Amid the noisy cries of the people greeting the King, the curtain falls</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>II</h2> + +<h1><a name="div1_fritzchen" href="#div1Ref_fritzchen">FRITZCHEN</a></h1> + +<h2>A DRAMA IN ONE ACT</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>PERSONS</h2> +<div style="margin-left:20%"> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Herr von Drosse</span>, Major (retired), +Lord of the Manor.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Helene</span>, his wife.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Fritz</span>, their son.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Agnes</span>, niece of Frau von Drosse.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Von Hallerpfort</span>, lieutenant.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Stephan</span>, overseer.</p> +<p class="continute"><span class="sc2">Wilhelm</span>, servant.</p> +</div> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>FRITZCHEN</h2> + +<p class="normal"><i>The action takes place on Herr von Drosse's estate. Time, +the present</i>.</p> + +<p class="normal"><i>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.</i></p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIRST SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc2">Wilhelm</span> (<i>servant over sixty, in +half livery, is engaged in arranging the samovar for the afternoon coffee</i>). <span class="sc2"> +Agnes</span> (<i>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</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Wilhelm, has the postman been here?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>sighing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, yes, he was here.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where are the things?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">They are on the table, Fräulein.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Goes quickly to the table and with feverish haste looks +through the small pile of newspapers and letters lying there</i>.) Again, +nothing!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, indeed--and this is the seventh day. Ah, it is really heart-breaking.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are your master and mistress still taking their afternoon nap?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I have just heard the Major. He will be here directly--there +he is now!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SECOND SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">MAJOR VON +DROSSE</span> (<i>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</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Afternoon, Agnes!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Afternoon, uncle!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Goes to the table, examines the letters, sits down and +looks straight before him for a little while</i>.) Wilhelm!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What does the Major wish?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Stephan is to come at once to the castle.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well, Major. (<i>Exit</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Uncle!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well, dear uncle.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just come here, girl, look me in the face ... We two know each +other and ... Eh?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>casts down her eyes</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now see, I know very well that for two years you have been +secretly corresponding with Fritz.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Uncle! (<i>Presses her hands to her face</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, uncle!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hm!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">Agnes (<i>hesitating, embarrassed</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">For some time we have not corresponded.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So?--Ho, ho ...! Who is to blame for that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, let us not talk about that, uncle. But from another +quarter, I have had news of him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">When?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yesterday.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And that you have----?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Taking a letter from her pocket</i>.) Please read--and I +think you will not reproach me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">Major</span> (<i>unfolding the letter</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">Ah, from the little Frohn! Now then, what does the little +Frohn write? (<i>Reads, muttering</i>.) Lanskis--Steinhof--met cousin--danced (<i>aloud</i>). +Indeed, then he could dance, but not write, that is a nice business--I should +not have believed it of him at all.... (<i>Reads further, muttering</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I think I have controlled myself, uncle?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, very true, girl, no one has noticed anything.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>THIRD SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">WILHELM</span>. <i> +Afterward </i><span class="sc2">STEPHAN</span>, <i>the overseer</i>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>entering from the right</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Herr Stephan is there, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Come in!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>Enter </i><span class="sc2">Stephan</span>.)</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Stephan</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, indeed, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Which are in better condition now, the browns or the whites?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Stephan</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That I don't permit myself to decide, Major. They have all had +it severely!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, I will just go and have a look myself. Wilhelm--cap!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well, Major. (<i>Exit to the right</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 (<i>softly, looking around at </i><span class="sc2">Agnes</span>) how we managed it the other +times when I was out at night.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Stephan</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">All right, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where is that fellow stopping with my cap? (<i>Enter </i> +<span class="sc2">Wilhelm</span>.) Where were you hiding, man? (<span class="sc2">Wilhelm </span><i>hands him the cap</i>.) And he +is tottering on his old legs! What are you tottering so for?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed I am not tottering, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, come on, Stephan! (<i>Exeunt </i><span class="sc2">Major</span>, <span class="sc2">Stephan</span>, +<i>through the garden door</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FOURTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">AGNES</span>. <span class="sc2">WILHELM</span>. +<i>Afterward </i><span class="sc2">LIEUTENANT VON HALLERPFORT</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ask the lieutenant to come in, and keep a lookout, if my aunt +comes.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Wilhelm </span><i>opens the door on the +right, and disappears through the door on the left hand</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Meeting the lieutenant as he enters</i>.) Herr von +Hallerpfort, what has happened to Fritz?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nothing, Fräulein, not the least thing.... I am surprised that +he is not yet here.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span> (<i>rising joyfully</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah! (<i>With a sigh of relief</i>.) Ha!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I beg pardon a thousand times if I startled you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Will you please take a seat.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thank you, most humbly! (<i>They are seated</i>.) Your uncle +and aunt, I hope, will not----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Uncle has just gone to the stables, and aunt's coming will be +announced to us.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How is your aunt?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, I thank you, much as usual.--Herr von Hallerpfort, be +frank with me: What is this all about?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, absolutely nothing of any consequence. A little +surprise--nothing further--nothing further!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To be sure, if he is really on his way here--didn't you ride +here together?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, I came by the way of the levee, and thought to overtake +him. He will have ridden by the highway.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then what is the object of this secrecy?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 (<i>takes +out his watch</i>) 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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ten minutes--that is, by a short cut through the park, about +five.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At Braun's? I think you know, Herr von Hallerpfort, that this +house----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And all that is the truth?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Absolutely.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>entering at the left</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Fräulein, your aunt.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span> (<i>springing up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Good-bye, then! And be reassured, it is all about a +joke--about----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">If only your face were not so serious.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, that--that is deceptive. (<i>Exit quickly to the right</i>.</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIFTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">AGNES</span>. <span class="sc2">FRAU VON +DROSSE</span> (<i>extremely delicate in appearance, forty, suffering--with +girlish complexion--gay, absent smile--dreamy, gentle expression--gliding, +careful walk--breathing deeply</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Hastens to meet her, to support her</i>.) Forgive me, +aunt, that I did not go to fetch you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No matter, darling ... I could manage.... Is there any news?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>shakes her head</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse </span><i>sighing</i>).</p> +<p class="normal">Ah, yes.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Do you know, aunt, I have a sort of presentiment that he will +soon be here himself.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, if things happened according to presentiments!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SIXTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">MAJOR</span>. <span class="sc2"> +WILHELM</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, darling, are you in good spirits?... No!... Well, what +is it then? What is it then?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, Richard, you surely know.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>who is handing the coffee</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And were you at all worried then?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Old donkey.... Well, you see how it is ... The same old story.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Richard, do you know, last night a thought came to me. They +all idolise him--that boy.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, with the ladies of the regiment, it is no great +wonder....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So far as they wish to get married--no.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, the poor devil! And for that purpose, one of the kind.... +Who then is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why! You surely know her ... Frau von Lanski of Steinhof.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>winces</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, indeed--well, to be sure, hm--that is quite probable.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, you are not a lieutenant of hussars, darling.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Won't you drink your coffee, aunt? It will be quite cold.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, the stupid fig-coffee. To be sure, your health is good, +you don't need anything of the kind! (<i>drinks</i>) Richard, do you know, last +night I saw a vision.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, what did you see this time, darling?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.... (<i>Excitedly</i>.) And suddenly the door was opened wide +and at the side of the Emperor----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Drink, aunt--tell about it later--it excites you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, my sweet one, yes. (<i>Drinks and leans back exhausted</i>.) +You know, Richard, perhaps they are to increase his pay.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Surely he has enough, darling. Do you wish him to gamble it +away?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">Major</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, it is surely only restlessness. Ah, I wish he were +only----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Who had gone out, appears excitedly at the door on the +right and calls softly</i>.) Major, Major!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>springing up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">What is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span> (<i>in a whisper</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">The--the--young master!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span> (<i>turning round +suddenly</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">What is it about the young master?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">Major</span> (<i>rushes out. His voice is +heard</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Boy, boy, boy!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Frau von Drosse </span><i>breaks out in +ecstatic laughter</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Quietly, aunt! Quietly! Don't excite yourself!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SEVENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">FRITZ VON +DROSSE</span> (<i>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</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Goes to meet him with outstretched arms</i>.) My God! +there he really is!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I should think he was! (<i>Presses her to his heart and +strokes her hair, closes his eyes a moment, as if overcome with faintness</i>.) +But be seated, mamma, be seated. Confound it, but I have ridden! And on the way, +my horse lost another shoe.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Mohammed?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, I am riding the Spy.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where did it happen?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>Exit </i><span class="sc2">Wilhelm</span>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Come here, my Fritzchen, sit beside me!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well, mamma, let us, very well!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You see, Agnes she had a presentiment about you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah! Good-day, Agnes!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Good-day, Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You are so formal!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I?... Ah, no, dear Fritz.... Would you not like to drink +something?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Fritz </span><i>stares at her, without +replying</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>starting up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, father!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You are asked a question.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="center">You go eagerly at the stuff, my son....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Forgive me, father, if I was too bold. I don't know how I came +to do it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">Major</span> (<i>to </i><span class="sc2"> +Agnes</span>).<p> + +<p class="normal">Just bring it, bring it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>takes the keys from the +shelf and goes out to the right</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How long have you furlough, my boy?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Furlough? Ha, ha, furlough ... No furlough at all. Sixty +precious minutes, I have spared for you (<i>stretching himself</i>) then it is +over! (<i>Throws himself into a chair standing near the place where his mother +is sitting</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is "over," what does that mean? Are you then on duty?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">On duty?... Well, yes indeed, I am on duty--to be sure--of +course.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What duty can that be?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, a patrol ride, of course.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">When did you set out?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At noon, father.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Remarkable. In my time, the cavalry rode in patrol service +rather about midnight.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, the old man<a name="div2Ref_02" href="#div2_02"><sup>[2]</sup></a> +does such things.... It is all one to him. If he can give petty annoyance. Yes.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How do you have time to stop in here?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Of course you are right about that.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span> (<i>stroking his hands</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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! (<i>Bends down her head and kisses him on the forehead</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Fritz </span><i>closes his eyes and utters +a low whimpering exclamation of pain</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What was it? Did I hurt you, my boy?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>with embarrassed laughter</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, no--no!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Control yourself, Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, father!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Let him alone, Richard! Remember he has to leave directly.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>staring straight before him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, I must go directly.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>shaking his head, examines +him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Remarkable!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span> (<i>who returns with a bottle +and glasses</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">There is the wine, dear Fritz.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, if only the wine is there! (<i>Hurries to the table and +pours the wine</i>.) Does no one touch glasses with me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just wait, I will touch glasses with you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then long life to us, friends! May we live happily.... Long +may we live.... (<i>Musing</i>.) May we live as long as possible!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But you are not drinking.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, yes. (<i>Tosses down a glass</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, I should like to take this occasion to ask you just why +you don't write to us any more.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Please, Richard, please say nothing to him--he telegraphed.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>starting anxiously</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Telegraphed? What did I telegraph?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Major </span><i>makes signals to him behind +his mother's back</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, of course. You see, father, I telegraphed.... And then, +not long ago, I fell from the trapeze and sprained my arm a bit.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You see, Richard, that is what hurt him just now; and yet you +scolded him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why do you ask <i>me</i>, Fritz?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Remarkable!... You know, darling, the boy would like something +to eat. In such cases, you always see to it yourself--eh?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, indeed, mother--stay here, mother. (<i>He grasps her hands</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span> (<i>imploringly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Richard, the time is just now so short.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Won't do, child! I have to speak to him about something.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What is it, father? There is indeed no question of ...</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span> (<i>standing up and +sighing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Don't be too long, Richard. Remember I wish to have something +more of him. (<i>Goes with </i><span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>to the door on the left, where she turns +again</i>.) My boy, don't you look at me any more?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Who has been standing with averted face, biting his lips, +turns suddenly</i>.) At your service, mother!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now he is on his "at your service" footing, even with me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>Exit </i><span class="sc2">Frau von Drosse </span><i>with </i><span class="sc2"> +Agnes</span>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>EIGHTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">MAJOR</span>. <span class="sc2">FRITZ</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, Fritz, my boy, here we are now alone, just out with what +you have to say ... Exactly what is the matter?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Nothing, father, absolutely nothing ... What should be the +matter?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You know, this story about the sprained arm and the patrol +ride, that is simply a lie!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How so?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Will you smoke a cigar with me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">If you please ... That is, I should like a glass of water. (<i>Tosses +down two glasses of water</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>lights his cigar</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Just see, Fritz, in your rage you fail to notice that I am +insulting you here.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How can a father be said to insult his son? If you don't +believe me, then you just don't believe me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, to be sure.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, I have gambled too.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Have you lost?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, I have won.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then, as to women--how is it about women?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>shrugs his shoulders</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Boy, don't be so hard in the mouth.... Do you think I don't +know you are in love?...</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">In love? Ah, good God!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed? Do you believe it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I should think I did remember it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>smiling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And now, it seems to me, you have had some experience.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, yes, there is no denying that.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>still smiling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>impetuously</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Father, how do you come to refer to Frau von Lanski?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That I can well believe, father, if only you have the time +necessary to do it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>smiling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, why haven't I?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Because, in twenty-four hours, I shall be a dead man.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Springing up, and taking him by the shoulder</i>.) Boy!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>flying into a passion</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">So, there's a scandal.... You had to carry it to the point of +making a scandal--you damned fool! (<i>More calmly</i>.) Lanski has challenged +you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Fritz </span><i>nods assent</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>hoarsely</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I don't understand that, Fritz.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then don't ask me!... I can't say it, father.... I had rather +bite off my tongue. (<i>Pauses</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Goes to the door on the left, opens it, looks out, and +closes it again</i>.) Now speak! (<i>Wildly</i>.) Speak or----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">For me, father, there is no more any "or." ... Whether you +turn me out or not, it is all the same.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>softly, grinding his teeth</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Do you wish to drive me mad, boy?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc">Fritz </span><i>crying out</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">He whipped me--across the courtyard--out into the +street--whipped me like a beast!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>after a silence</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Where was your sabre? You could have run him through.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Fritz </span><i>silent, with downcast eyes</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where was your sabre, I ask you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was--not--at hand, father.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was not at hand.... Hm!... Now I understand it all. Surely +there is nothing left to wish! And this catastrophe occurred when?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yesterday evening, father!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At what time?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It was still--daylight!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ha, ha!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Father, only don't laugh! Have pity on me!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Did I drive you, then, after other men's wives?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Stop! Have pity! Stop!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Embracing him, and stroking his hair</i>.) My son--my +all--my boy--I don't permit--I will not----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Silence, silence, father! Mother should not hear that.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, forgive me for giving way. It shall not happen again.... +So how does the affair stand now?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I reported myself to the old man, that very night.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My God! Whatever did the old Frohn say?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why did you summon a court of honor?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What was I to do, father, after Lanski declared to those who +delivered my challenge that I was no longer--capable of having satisfaction?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah! I will shoot the dog dead for that.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, I hope they will decide favourably to me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">If not, the dev-- (<i>Softly</i>.) 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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Enough, enough, father, that is of no further use.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What does that mean? Is it possible that you will--to +Lanski?----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lanski will hit me. Depend upon it....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Man, are you--are you----?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lanski will hit me. Depend upon it....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Man, yet have--yet consider----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I will not, father! And if you had seen the spectacle which +the people of Wartenstein saw yesterday (<i>shudders</i>), you would demand +nothing more of life for me than a half-respectable death....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>brokenly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Perhaps--they will not--grant you--the duel.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>perplexed</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Say then say!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>drawing himself up</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">No! (<i>Sinks down in his chair</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So you see, father--so or so--your Fritz is done for.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>sunk in gloomy reverie</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">My fault!--my----</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>NINTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">WILHELM</span>. +<i>Afterward </i><span class="sc2">LIEUTENANT VON HALLERPFORT</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Wilhelm</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lieutenant von Hallerpfort wishes to speak to the young +master.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Hurrying past him to the door</i>.) Well?</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Hallerpfort </span><i>shakes hands with him +and the </i><span class="sc2">Major</span>, <i>and casts a glance at </i><span class="sc2"> +Wilhelm</span>, <i>who forthwith disappears</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Does your father know?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, my dear Hallerpfort, I know.--Granted?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To-morrow morning, half after four o'clock behind the large +drill-ground.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thank God!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Thank God! (<i>They embrace</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>disengaging himself</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Conditions?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fifteen paces--advance--five paces barrier--exchange of +shots----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To a finish?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To a finish.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well!</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Major </span><i>turns toward the door, and presses his +hands to his face</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span> (<i>approaching him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Major, as your son's best friend----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>grasping his hands</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank you, my dear Hallerpfort, I thank you.... You will +ride away at once, will you not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Unfortunately we must, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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....</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It will be as you order, Major.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And now, courage, Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That is understood, father!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Holding open the door on the left, in a different tone</i>.) +Now, boys, just come quickly in! Only think, darling----</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>TENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">FRAU VON +DROSSE</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah--Herr von Hallerpfort! (<i>He kisses her hand</i>.) How +does this happen? Two lieutenants in the house at the same time--if that doesn't +bring luck!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>quickly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">We have orders together, mamma.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And alas, madam, we have to be off this very minute.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But, dear child, service is service.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span> (<i>with quick decision</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">So, good-bye, mamma!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span> (<i>embracing him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">My boy--you will soon have furlough, won't you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes indeed, mamma! After the manœuvres. Then we are free. Then +we will be merry!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And Hallerpfort is coming with you, isn't he?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Hallerpfort</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">With your permission, madam.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Major</span> (<i>softly, to </i><span class="sc2">Agnes</span>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Take leave of him! You will never see him again!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Stretching out his hand cheerfully to her</i>.) Dear Ag-- +(<i>Looks into her face, and understands that she knows. Softly, earnestly</i>.) +Farewell, then.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Farewell, Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I love you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Agnes</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I shall always love you, Fritz!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Away then, Hallerpfort! Au revoir, papa! Au revoir! Revoir! (<i>Starts +for the door on the right</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Go by the park, boys--there I have you longer in sight.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Fritz</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well, mamma, we will do it! (<i>Passes with </i> +<span class="sc2">Hallerpfort </span><i>through the door at the centre; on the terrace, he turns with a +cheerful gesture, and calls once more</i>.) Au revoir! (<i>His voice is still +audible</i>.) Au revoir!</p> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Frau von Drosse </span><i>throws kisses after him, and waves +her handkerchief, then presses her hand wearily to her heart and sighs heavily</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>ELEVENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">MAJOR</span>. <span class="sc2">FRAU VON +DROSSE</span>. <span class="sc2">AGNES</span>.</p> +<br> +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Agnes </span><i>hurries to her, and leads her to a chair, then goes +over to the </i><span class="sc2">Major</span>, <i>who, with heaving breast is +lost in thought</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Frau von Drosse</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 (<i>More +softly, looking far away with a beatific smile</i>.) And the Emperor said----</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h3>CURTAIN.</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>III</h2> + +<h1><a name="div1_masculine" href="#div1Ref_masculine">THE ETERNAL MASCULINE</a></h1> + +<h2>A PLAY IN ONE ACT</h2> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>PERSONS</h2> +<br> +<div style="margin-left:20%"> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">The Marshal</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Valet de Chambre</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Sleepy Maid of Honour</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">The Deaf Maid of Honor</span>.</p> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc">A Child as Cupid</span>.</p> +</div> +<br> +<p class="normal">Several other Marquises and Maids of Honour.</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<h2>THE ETERNAL MASCULINE</h2> + +<p class="normal"><i>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.</i></p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIRST SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> + +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE QUEEN </span><i>in a plaited coronation +robe, on the throne</i>. <span class="sc2">THE PAINTER </span> +<i>with palette in hand, painting</i>. <span class="sc2">A CHILD </span><i>as </i><span class="sc2"> +CUPID</span>, <i>suspended by the waist, swings on </i><span class="sc2">THE +QUEEN'S </span><i>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 </i><span class="sc2"> +THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR</span>, <span class="sc2">THE SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR</span>, <span class="sc2"> +THE MARQUIS IN PINK</span>, and <span class="sc2">MARQUIS IN PALE BLUE</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">SONG OF THE MAIDS OF HONOUR</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Led by The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.)</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<p class="t4">Zephyr rises at the dawn<br> + From the budding pillows of the roses.<br> + Lo, he will cool his hot desire<br> + In the silvery dew,<br> + Since he must console himself<br> + That his dream still fans the flame,<br> + And that Luna's icy kiss<br> + Does but touch his parched mouth.</p> +<p class="t4"> </p> +<p class="t4">And Aurora's violet passion<br> + Looks on him with floods of tears.<br> + Ah! What matters Luna's favour?--<br> + She knows not how to kiss.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center">The Queen (<i>yawning</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, your Majesty!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are you a poet, Marquis?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">Cupid </span><i>begins to cry</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Maid of Honour</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What is the matter with him?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Second Maid of Honour</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, the sweet child!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">First Maid of Honour</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Be good! Nice and good! Here is a sweetmeat!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Cupid</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I want to get down! My legs are cold.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, fie! The word offends my ears.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It seems to me that the little fellow lacks education.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hereafter, only children from superior families should be +chosen for this purpose.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And you, respected artist, have no word to say?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">The Queen </span><i>laughing, makes a sign. +Two maids of honour set him free</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What a way of speaking!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What a plebeian!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How self-conscious!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And she dotes on him!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 <i>feel</i> perhaps even better--yet these gentlemen +talk as if they were in a fever.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquises</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, your Majesty!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, that is severe!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, that is almost deadly!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I am one!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So am I!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I don't think ill of you! I like you. You don't disturb my +repose--yet, dear master, what say you to that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.<//p> + +<p class="normal">I pray, your Majesty, still a little farther to the right.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span> (<i>smiling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And is that all? Does nothing which may occur in this room +interest you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Pardon me, your Majesty, the daylight is scanty, and +besides--I am painting.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 (<i>points to the palette</i>) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How, your Majesty?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">She inflames him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">On the contrary, she cools him off.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just to inflame him anew.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I wonder if she truly loves him?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">At any rate, she wishes to excite him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There, Jean, <i>merci</i>.... Yet what was I about to say, has +no one seen anything of our Marshal?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span> (<i>softly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Is he still missing?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Why does she want <i>him</i>, too?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>turning to </i><span class="sc2"> +The Queen</span>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Is the Marshal back? The Marshal here?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>to himself</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">The Marshal.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis In Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Half aloud to </i><span class="sc2">The Painter</span>.) +Admit, sir, that his coming is inconvenient to you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Do you know him, master?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Your Majesty, I have never seen him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet you would like to make his acquaintance?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That I don't know.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Softly to </i><span class="sc2">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.) How the coward +betrays himself!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What did I say? He is afraid.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That is splendid!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">We must see to that and profit by it. (<i>Aloud</i>.) Yet I +advise you, dear master, hold your own. He has a habit sometimes of running +people through. Yet----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How do you intend that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I have a right to be angry!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, indeed, you have been insulted!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ha! Fearful is a man in anger! What do you think--can the +dauber defend himself?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Attack him first from behind, then to his face.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I believe it. One of them is asleep.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">The other can't hear.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Good-bye! I wish you to go home to do penance for your sins of +love. (<i>Goes to the door on the right</i>.) One thing more. When you see the +good Marshal, give him my greetings. (<i>Exit, followed by the ladies. Only the +sleepy lady remains, sitting</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Softly to the deaf lady</i>.) Pst! Wake her! (<i>She nods +to him pleasantly and goes out</i>.) Ah, yes, she is deaf!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Pointing at the lady asleep</i>.) Pluck her by the sleeve.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fräulein, allow me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Sleepy Maid Of Honour</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Springs up with a little cry, makes a low curtsey to </i> +<span class="sc2">The Marquis</span>, +<i>which he returns in kind, then follows the other ladies</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SECOND SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE MARQUISES</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +PAINTER</span>.</p> +<br> +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>paints, without +noticing the others, then takes a buttered roll from his pocket and eats</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ha, now I am going to kill him!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Another Marquis</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Pardon me, Marquis, why not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Second Marquis</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ha, terrible!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Third Marquis</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Who told you that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Have pity on us, friend, and give us proofs!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, his Majesty (<i>all bow</i>) is, alas, well on in years! +(<i>All assent sorrowfully</i>.) Whom else does she love? There must at any rate +be some one!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">For God's sake, be prudent and speak softly!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What is he doing there?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Second Marquis</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">He is eating.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Fie, how vulgar!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What will happen to the Marshal?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>All chuckle</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Dead sparrow is excellent!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">This murder--listen--is bound to put the other one into +disfavour. The King's Majesty (<i>all bow</i>) will shorten his leave of +absence, and we, we shall be freed of him.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>All chuckle</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very good! But if things turn out differently, what then?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Never mind! Take advantage of the right moment. No more is +needed. For she cannot refrain, she must see people kneel to her.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Famous! Brilliant! A splendid plan! (<i>To </i><span class="sc2">The Painter</span>, +<i>with a low bow which all imitate</i>.) Honoured sir, permit us to greet you!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>very politely</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">My greeting implies the esteem of which you are aware.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">We lay our esteem at your feet! (<i>After further bows, which </i> +<span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>good-humouredly returns</i>, <span class="sc2">The Marquises </span><i>depart at the +centre</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>smiling, continues to +paint</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h3><i>THIRD SCENE</i></h3> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE PAINTER</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +VALET DE CHAMBRE</span>. <i>Then </i> +<span class="sc2">THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR</span>. <span class="sc2">THE SLEEPY +MAID OF HONOUR</span>. <span class="sc2">THE QUEEN</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">The Valet </span><i>entering from the left, +greets </i><span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>with condescending nods, and +walks over to the throne</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Eh!--what?... Ah, indeed! (<i>Laughs aloud</i>.) Strange +world, where the lackey carries his head the highest!</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">Valet </span><i>after arranging the +cushions, places himself before the easel, and ogles the portrait</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What is it?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Pleasantly, as a connoisseur</i>.) Ah these little furrows +in the cheeks! (<i>Benevolently</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>laughing heartily</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Opening the door on the left, announces</i>.) Her Majesty!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">The Two Maids of Honour </span><i>have +entered during this soliloquy, and have taken their positions to the right and +left of the door</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Nods cordially to </i><span class="sc2">The Painter</span>, <i>and takes her seat +on the throne, as before</i>.) My dear Jean, I must dispense with you now. Don't +stay too late.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>Exit Jean</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FOURTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="hang1"><span class="sc2">THE QUEEN</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +PAINTER</span>.<span class="sc2">THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR</span> (<i>who seats +herself behind the screen</i>). <span class="sc2">THE SLEEPY MAID OF HONOUR</span> +(<i>who falls asleep directly on a chair near the door on the left</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Well, master, tell me: what is Genius doing?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, your Majesty, he is pursuing Beauty.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet since Beauty lingers no more on earth, your genius will +soon grow weary.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There spoke the painter. But what says the man?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">He has no opinion, your Majesty!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.... (<i>Alarmed</i>.) It +seems to me I am confiding in you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Consider me as a thing--as a slave!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And you know how to be silent? Tell me--swear!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What you did not will me to hear, that I have not heard. What +I did not hear, I cannot keep as a secret.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Lofty sentiment and noble will find expression in you. So, in +all silence, I may show your heart what favours are granted to you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>tremulously</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Am I worth it? And if you regret it to-morrow?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Your Majesty! Remember the ladies there!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Sure enough.... Yet when I consider----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>laughing to himself</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Who has lost his head!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So I saw him in my dreams. I feel, too, that you could quite +overflow, and I am a little afraid of it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Controlling himself with difficulty</i>.) 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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And yet you think that I am beautiful?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>impulsively</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, you are beautiful! You--(<i>restraining himself</i>). +Your Majesty, I beg you to turn a little more to the left.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Turns her head quite to the left</i>.) So?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What are you painting now?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Your hand.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span> (<i>pointing to her face</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And it is for that, that I am to turn to the left?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I meant, just to the centre.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Is the hand well posed?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Very well.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Can you see it from where you sit?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, yes--(<i>she laughs</i>). Forgive me if I am talking +nonsense.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span> (<i>spreading out her hand</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Instead of finding fault with me, look! I have painted it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span> (<i>pouting</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">You have indeed painted it, but you have not kissed it. From +that I conclude that it is not attractive.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It seems as if you wished to avoid the subject. I was speaking +of a hand--you speak of stars.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed, do you believe that? (<i>She rises and goes to the +easel</i>.) Now pray what happened? You willed nothing and compelled nothing, +yet please observe--the hand is there.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, now it becomes interesting! You look at me as savagely as +if a hatred quite unappeased and unappeasable possessed you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">A hatred? No, what I laughingly veiled from you was not +hatred, no--yet +<i>if</i> 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<a name="div2Ref_03" href="#div2_03"><sup>[3]</sup></a> +hands laden with the splendid tokens of love: yet stop--think of the end, by the +holy God--I recognise myself no more.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Never yet did I hear such words.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Shrinking back to the throne</i>.) Enough, I should not +listen to you any longer.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You must. You have so willed it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I will beg you, sir, I will conjure you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>FIFTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc">THE +MARSHAL</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">The Queen.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Who until now has listened, anxious but not altogether +unfriendly, collects herself, and draws herself up in sudden anger</i>.) I +deliver this insolent fellow to you, Marshal. Deal with him as he deserves. (<i>She +goes to the door. There she stops, and gives </i><span class="sc2">The Sleepy Maid of Honour </span><i> +two angry little blows with her fan. The latter springs up, bows, and goes out +gravely behind </i><span class="sc2">The Queen</span>, <i>with </i><span class="sc2">The Deaf Maid of Honour</span>, <i>who has +risen</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SIXTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE MARSHAL</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +PAINTER</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">The Marshal</span>.</p> +<br> +<p class="normal">Sir, if you wish to say a paternoster, make haste with it.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">By your will, it has become mine, and I will gladly keep it. +So, draw your sword!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I, sir?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">So, draw!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">No, that you will never live to see!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then why do you wear a sword?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Because I choose to.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You are a coward.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Controlling himself, with a smiling bow</i>.) And you are +a hero! (<i>In the meanwhile the door at the centre is opened</i>. <span class="sc2"> +The Marquises </span><i>put their heads in, listening</i>. <span class="sc2">The +Painter </span><i>observes it and takes his sword from the table where he has +just laid it</i>.) 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. (<span class="sc2">The +Marquises </span><i>draw back. The door at the centre is suddenly closed</i>.) +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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are you still young?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I am not exactly old, yet my fortune has been so checkered and +various that I joyfully had given seven every-day lives for <i>one</i> 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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I may be a judge, but I am not an executioner. So do me the +favour----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You are mocking me, surely!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Still a little farther to the right!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What does that mean?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You seem altogether mad.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I beg you to grant me a respite. I shall be glad to let you +kill me, yet only after your portrait is finished.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And by your creation, you hope to obtain all manner of favour, +and quietly to escape. You are cunning indeed.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is the peculiar pleasure of magnanimity to suspect the +magnanimity of others.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are you reading me a lecture?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">By heaven, sir, you risk a great deal!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And so I, you? Yet no song tells us that Homer ever kneeled +before Helen.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Not that. But every child knows why: the poor singer was +blind.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That is true.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I am sorry for you.</p> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Without cause, I assure you!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You call it crime--I call it folly!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet I ask you whether <i>this</i> picture invited you to a +banquet. Speak quickly--by my sword!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You know very well that no gallant man should move an eyelash +at such a question.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">You do not love her--only like a faun you make bold to court +her madly. (<i>Taking hold of him</i>.) But I love her, and for this reason, you +must die.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It seems you set spies at the door!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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 <i>me</i>: 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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">A poison is distilled from your words which eats into the very +marrow of my soul.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Explain yourself!</p> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">In order to know exactly how you are thought of in the highest +place, you must perish in the duel.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">In the duel?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Understand me rightly: only in appearance.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And my reputation as a swordsman goes with it into the +bargain.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, not at all! You will get up again.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span> (<i>laughing</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">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!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Come on!... Yet no, by your leave! So that they may believe +the incredible about me, I will arrange the thing in naturalistic fashion. (<i>He +draws his sword</i>.) Is the door locked? (<i>He walks to the door at the +centre, and points his sword at the keyhole</i>.) Eyes away! I am going to +thrust! (<i>A scream is uttered in the antechamber</i>.) And now look out! I am +going to mark horrid pools of spilt blood! (<i>He mixes colours on the palette, +and hands the </i><span class="sc2">Marshal </span><i>his sword</i>.) Hold it, I beg you. (<i>He smears +the sword blade with his brush</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">My blood!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Without doubt! <i>Merci</i>. (<i>Takes back his sword</i>.) +Just one tap upon the breast. Yet in case you wish that I spare the waistcoat?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">By no means! That would be too much loss of blood!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Just as you please. (<i>He moves the easel and table to one +side. Softly</i>.) And make no mistake, the door will open at the first clash of +blades.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Are you ready?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>nods assent. They +fence</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Famous.... Do you know that feint?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is a good one, is it not?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Who taught you that?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And this!...</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There you missed the quint.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Damnation!...</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Ah, that was admirable!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet at painting I do better.... Is any one listening?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">They are huddled together in a confused group.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now, if you please!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Only be at it!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Be careful of the throne, or you will get a bump if you fall! +(<i>He lunges at </i><span class="sc2">The Marshal</span>, <i>far under the armpit</i>. <span class="sc2">The Marshal </span><i> +falls</i>. <span class="sc2">The Marquises </span><i>who are pressing in at the half-open door, draw back +in horror</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>SEVENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +MARQUIS IN PINK</span>. +<span class="sc2">THE MARQUIS IN PALE BLUE</span>. <span class="sc2">THE OTHER +MARQUISES</span>.</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Listen to me, gentlemen! What are you about in there? Stay and +bear witness to what you saw.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis In Pink</span> (<i>approaching +timidly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">We stand benumbed at such a glorious deed.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis In Pale Blue</span> (<i>likewise</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">And we are almost beside ourself with admiration.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">What? Really dead?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>tauntingly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Sir, you seem to be in doubt?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, dear man, how could you think it? I wished only to afford +myself the rapture of seeing whether you had altogether freed us.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">He stalked about, puffed up with self-conceit, and when we +were rising in the esteem of his or her majesty----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Then came this man with a couple of new triumphs.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How odious!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pink</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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----</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">There, wait!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">All The Marquises </span><i>starting With +fear</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis In Pink</span> (<i>trembling</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">You said?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I said nothing at all.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yet plainly----</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>EIGHTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">THE VALET +DE CHAMBRE</span>. <span class="sc2">THE QUEEN</span>. +<span class="sc2">THE DEAF MAID OF HONOUR</span>. <span class="sc2">THE SLEEPY +MAID OF HONOUR</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span> (<i>announces</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Her Majesty!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<span class="sc2">The Marshal </span><i>clears his throat +softly</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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. (<span class="sc2">The Marquises </span><i>eagerly +assent</i>.) 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. (<span class="sc2">The +Painter </span><i>clears his throat softly. She stretches out her hand to him, which he +kisses</i>.) And be not grieved! (<i>To </i><span class="sc2">The Marquises</span>.) Does not what has +happened seem almost like a judgment of God?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is true! Here a higher power has been at work.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Deaf Maid of Honor</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Pardon me, your Majesty! The Marshal is laughing.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquises</span> (<i>muttering in horror</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Is he laughing? Is he laughing? (<i>Silence</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span> (<i>rising</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Madam, forgive me! In the fight a sudden fainting fit overcame +me.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marquis in Pale Blue</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Pointing at </i><span class="sc2">The Painter's </span><i> +sword lying on the floor</i>.) And what is this blood? (<i>Movement by </i><span class="sc2"> +The Painter</span>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Until the return to my senses relieved me (<i>with emphasis</i>) +of <i>this</i> trouble and <i>another</i> trouble.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Queen</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Quickly collecting herself. Sharply</i>.) 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! (<i>Exit </i> +<span class="sc2">Jean </span><i>on the left</i>. <span class="sc2">The Queen</span>, <i>punishing </i><span class="sc2">The Painter </span><i>with a +glance of unspeakable scorn, follows slowly. The two Maids of Honour go after +her</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>NINTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="normal"><span class="sc2">THE MARSHAL</span>. <span class="sc2">THE +PAINTER</span>. <span class="sc2">THE MARQUISES</span> (<i>in the background</i>).</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">I thank you, sir! The mists are dissipated. The eye sees +clearly once more; the will has a free hand.</p> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But I was silently executed. Did you notice her look?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span> (<i>pointing at </i><span class="sc2"> +The Marquises</span>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Of looks, there are sufficient.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>snatching up his sword</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Oho! I am always expecting foul play.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">For what reason? Get along with you! Get along with you! Be +quick!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">It is true. You are right. Here, we are ruined.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And what is to become of you?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">That has never troubled me. The world is wide. One can walk +about it, and find something to sketch by the way.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">How would it be if you went with me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Where?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">To the camp.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes, and what is there?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Plenty for you! You will find gay fare, and pastimes and +diversions. As much as you want.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And are there fights too?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed, there are!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And will there be a bold reconnoissance by night?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Often.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Plenty of them!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Hurrah! There is music too!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And in the story-telling by night at the camp-fire many a tale +of human destiny will be unfolded to you.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">A world of pictures! (<i>More softly</i>.) And love +adventures?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">If you choose to call them "adventures."</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">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.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Take care!</p> +<br> +<br> +<h2><i>TENTH SCENE</i>.</h2> +<br> +<p class="center"><span class="sc2">THE SAME</span>. <span class="sc2">THE VALET +DE CHAMBRE</span>. +<span class="sc2">THE QUEEN</span>. <span class="sc2">THE TWO MAIDS OF HONOUR</span>.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Your Majesty!</p> + +<p class="normal">(<span class="sc2">The Queen </span><i>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 </i><span class="sc2">Valet </span> +<i>a scroll with which he advances. Then she goes out, followed by the Maids of +Honour</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Now the hastily contrived reward of our misdeeds is at hand. (<i>To </i> +<span class="sc2">Jean</span>.) My noble sir, bestir yourself. (<i>To </i><span class="sc2"> +The Painter</span>.) That is the handsome Jean as an angel of justice! (<i>He +unfolds the scroll and reads, laughing</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And to me, what do you bring to me?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>With an expression of awkward contempt</i>.) +You?--Nothing!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Exquisite!</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But yes! Your reward shall be meted out to you in the office +of the Marshal of the court.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>amused</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Indeed?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Yes! (<i>Behind the scenes on the right are heard cries of +"Jean! Jean!"</i>)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Deaf Maid of Honor</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Hurries in from the right</i>.) Jean! Have you forgotten +her Majesty?</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Valet</span> (<i>sweetly</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">Oh, no! Tell her Majesty I am coming directly.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter </span><span class="sc">and </span><span class="sc"> +The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">(<i>Look at each other, and break out into laughter</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">Look, look, my friend! He seems to have got into bad habits.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span> (<i>pointing at him</i>).</p> + +<p class="normal">It is rightly so. I had almost begged him, at the court where +we men are forbidden, proudly to represent the eternal masculine. (<i>Laughing, +they both bow to him</i>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center">(<i>Exit </i><span class="sc2">The Valet</span>.)</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Painter</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">But we are going into the flowery open, to our merry pursuits.</p> +<br> + +<p class="center"><span class="sc">The Marshal</span>.</p> + +<p class="normal">And to combat! (<i>They walk arm in arm, bowing right and +left, toward the door, past </i><span class="sc2">The Marquises</span>, <i>who, +without hiding their disrespect, nevertheless recognise them in a not uncourtly +fashion</i>.)</p> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>Curtain.</h3> +<br> +<br> +<br> + +<h3>FOOTNOTE:</h3> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div2_01" href="#div2Ref_01">Footnote 1</a>: +Milchbart--literally "milky beard."</p> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div2_02" href="#div2Ref_02">Footnote 2</a>: The +colonel.</p> + +<p class="hang1"><a name="div2_03" href="#div2Ref_03">Footnote 3</a>: The +document is defective here--showing "--iry." I have inserted the word "fairy" +based on context.--<span class="sc2">Transcriber</span>.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +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-h.htm or 34359-h.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. 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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: ASCII + +*** 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, Fraeulein. + + 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_). + +Fraeulein, just now as I went out, Lieutenant von Hallerpfort was +standing there and wished to speak with Fraeulein, privately. Neither +the master nor the mistress is to know anything of it ... God, Fraeulein +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, Fraeulein, 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, Fraeulein.... 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_). + +Fraeulein, 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 abbe who, in society, once excused +the absence of his bishop with the words: "Monseigneur est en retard a +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. + +Fraeulein, 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.txt or 34359.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. 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