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diff --git a/58473-0.txt b/58473-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..52176fd --- /dev/null +++ b/58473-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4026 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58473 *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + THE DRAMA + + A QUARTERLY REVIEW OF DRAMATIC LITERATURE + + NO. 8 NOVEMBER 1912 + + + + THE GOOD HOPE. + + A DRAMA OF THE SEA IN FOUR ACTS. + + BY HERMAN HEIJERMANS, JR. + + TRANSLATED BY HARRIET GAMPERT HIGGINS. + + + + + + + + +THE PLAYS OF HERMAN HEIJERMANS. + + +To those content with convenient superficialities the plays of a +dramatist such as Heijermans are easy of definition. He is dismissed +as "a realistic writer," "a playwright of the naturalistic school," +a follower of Ibsen, or Hauptmann, or Tolstoy, or Zola. Even then, +perhaps, the definitions are not exhausted. They spring from the +encyclopedia of commonplaces, and are as chaotic as the minds of their +authors. There is the adjective "meticulous," for example,--invaluable +to critics. And "morbid,"--equally indispensable, in the form of +"morbid psychology." "Photographic" and "kinematographic" must not be +forgotten; the latter an almost brand-new weapon of offence. For the +rest, "grey," "faithful," "squalid" or "lifelike" will serve their +turn, according to the critic's point of view. + +In phrases such as these we hear the echoes of a controversy now a +generation old; a controversy dating back to the "free theatres" of +the 1890 period in Paris, Berlin and London, the first performances of +Ibsen's "Ghosts," and the early plays of Hauptmann and Strindberg. Then +the issues between Realist and Philistine were sharply defined; +the very terms were mutually exclusive. To be modern, to be "free," +was to be an Ibsenite, an apostle of moral indignation, an author or +playgoer burning to lay bare social hypocrisies and shams; not merely +pour épater le bourgeois, but in order to assert the Great Truths +of Actual Life, so recently discovered by the stage. It mattered +little that Ibsenites owed their existence to their misunderstanding +of Ibsen. He had supplied them with an essential war cry. The old +domination of insincere sentiment and false romance in the theatre +was indefensible and insupportable. All the enthusiasm of dramatic +reformers was perforce directed to the advance of the new realistic +movement. Hence arose a battle of epithets between the two camps, +with "antiquated," "conventional," "sentimental," "romantic" on the +one hand, and "vulgar," "dreary," "indecent," "noisome" on the other. + +In Anglo-Saxon countries, naturally enough, the issue was made one of +morality rather than artistic method. Ibsen's views on marriage were +suspect, and the whole dramatic movement lay in quarantine. Indeed, +realism in literature came to be regarded as an unsettling tendency, +emanating from the Continent, and directed against all British +institutions from property to religion. The division of opinion may +be studied in historical documents such as the criticisms of the +London Press on the first English performance of "Hedda Gabler," and +the early prefaces of Bernard Shaw; the one side tilting at realism, +the other at romance;--both, alas, the most shifty of windmills where +morality is concerned. + +The provocative cry of "naturalism," raised by the newer dramatists and +their supporters, was responsible for half the trouble. A naturalist, +in good English usage, is taken to be a professor with a butterfly net +or an inquirer into the lower forms of pond life; and there is a good +deal to be said for the analogy as applied to the author of realistic +literature. Pins and chloroform may be his implements of tragedy; his +coldly scientific method gives point to the comparison. Undoubtedly +the "naturalistic drama" suggested probable inhumanity and possible +horror. In any case it clearly offered no hope of an enjoyable evening, +and was condemned from the first to be unpopular. + +So much for the misconception encouraged by a purely journalistic +phrase. Useless to maintain that the older dramatists, from +Robertson and Dumas fils to Sardou, held a monopoly of the milk +of human kindness, while Ibsen, Hauptmann, Tolstoy and Strindberg +wallowed in mere brutal, original sin. The alleged "naturalism" of +the latter belied its name. It ranged from revolutionary Utopianism +to the creation of most unnatural giants,--stage characters removed +from the average of everyday life by their own distinction. Indeed, +the differences between the old school and the new were as nothing +compared with the intellectual gulf between, say, Strindberg and +Tolstoy. Setting out from the common ground of external approximation +to life, the dramatists of the period soon diverged upon individual +paths. Hauptmann passed from the vivid and revolutionary "Weavers" +to the mythology of "Hannele" and the "Sunken Bell," and the simple +domestic drama of "Fuhrmann Henschel" and "Rose Bernd." Tolstoy became +a preacher; Strindberg a Swedenborgian mystic. Of the early playwrights +of the French Théâtre Libre, Courteline and Ancey, practised the +Comédie rosse, or brutal comedy, until Paris, tired of the uncouth +novelty, turned to the more amiable and no less natural work of Capus +and Donnay. Brieux devoted himself to the composition of dramatic +tracts. Bernard Shaw, after protesting that he "could none other" than +dramatize slum landlords and rent collectors in "Widowers' Houses," +found readier targets for his wit in bishops, professors of Greek and +millionaires. Nature, in fact, proved too strong for naturalism. No +formula could embrace all the individual playwrights of that stormy +time. The most catholic of "schools" could not hold them. + +Formulas, however, die hard; and it is still necessary to free +Heijermans from the "naturalistic" label so conveniently attached in +1890 to works like Tolstoy's "Power of Darkness," Hauptmann's Vor +Sonnenaufgang and Zola's "Therèse Raquin." All that his plays have +in common with theirs is a faithful observation of life, and more +particularly of life among the common people. Moreover, he belongs +to a newer generation. He had written several short pieces (notably +Ahasuerus and 'n Jodenstreek?) in 1893 and 1894, but "The Ghetto" +(1899) was his first important play. This three-act tragedy of the +Jewish quarter in a Dutch city has been published in an English +adaptation which woefully misrepresents the original, and I should +rather refer readers to a German translation (Berlin, Fleische) +revised by Heijermans himself. Like most early work, the play did +not satisfy its author, and several versions exist. + +The story is simple enough. Rafael, the son of an old Jewish merchant, +has an intrigue with the Gentile maidservant, Rose. His father, +Sachel, lives in an atmosphere of mistrust, hard dealing, thievery; +a patriarch with all the immemorial wrongs of the ghetto upon his +shoulders, and all the racial instinct to preserve property, family +and religion from contact with "strange people." He is blind, but +in the night he has heard the lovers' footsteps in the house. Rose +has lied to him; Rafael, as usual, is neglecting his business for +Gentile companions. So the play opens. After some bargaining over +the dowry, a marriage is arranged for Rafael with the daughter of +another merchant. The authority of the Rabbi is called in, but Rafael +refuses. He is a freethinker; in the ghetto, but not of it. "Oh, +these little rooms of yours,--these hot, stifling chambers of despair, +where no gust of wind penetrates, where the green of the leaves grows +yellow, where the breath chokes and the soul withers! No, let me speak, +Rabbi Haeser! Now I am the priest; I, who am no Jew and no Christian, +who feel God in the sunlight, in the summer fragrance, in the gleam of +the water and the flowers upon my mother's grave ... I have pity for +you, for your mean existence, for your ghettos and your little false +gods--for the true God is yet to come, the God of the new community; +the commonwealth without gods, without baseness, without slaves!" + +Sachel is blamed for allowing this open rupture to come about. It +is better to pay the girl off quietly and have done with her, +argue the other Jews. Every woman has her price--and especially +every Gentile woman. A hundred gulden--perhaps two hundred if she +is obstinate--will settle the matter. The money is offered, but Rose +is not to be bought. She has promised to go away with Rafael as his +wife. He has gone out, but he will return for her. The family tell +her that the money is offered with his consent; that he is tired of +her and has left home for good. But she is unmoved. She has learned +to mistrust the word of the Jews; she will only believe their sacred +oath. At last old Sachel swears by the roll of the commandments that +his son will not return. In despair, Rose throws herself into the +canal and is drowned. Rafael comes too late to save her. The God of +the Jews has taken his revenge. + +The play is perhaps a little naïve and crudely imagined, but it +has all the essential characteristics of Heijermans' later work; +the intense humanitarian feeling, the burning rhetoric, the frankly +partisan denunciation of society. Indeed, it could not be otherwise. In +dealing with such a case of bigotry and racial intolerance, it is +idle for a playwright to hold the scales with abstract justice. At +most he can only humanise the tragedy by humanising the villains of +his piece, and showing them driven into cruelty by traditional forces +beyond their control. That is the part of the "Ankläger," the social +prophet and Public Prosecutor; and it is the part which Heijermans, +above all others, has filled in the newer dramatic movement. + +In Het Pantser ("The Coat of Mail") his subject is the life of a Dutch +garrison town. "The Coat of Mail" is militarism; the creed of the +governing caste. And the setting is peculiarly apt for the presentation +of a social issue. In a small country such as Holland military +patriotism may be strong, but it is tempered by the knowledge that the +country only exists by the tolerance, or the diplomatic agreement, of +more powerful neighbours, and that in case of war it could do no more +than sacrifice an army to the invader. To the philosophic workman, +then, well read in revolutionary literature from Marx to Kropotkin, +the standing army presents itself simply as a capitalist tool, a +bulwark of the employing class against trade unionism. The industrial +struggle is uncomplicated by sentimentality. Patriotic stampedes to the +conservative side are unknown. Social Democracy is strong. Strikes are +frequent, and the protection of "blackleg" labourers is in the hands +of the garrison. That is the theme of this "romantic military play." + +Mari, a second lieutenant, refuses to serve on strike duty. He is a +weak but sincere idealist; his head full of humanitarian enthusiasm, +his rooms stocked with anti-militarist pamphlets. He will leave the +army rather than order his men to fire on the factory workers. Around +him stand the members of the military caste, linked together by +tradition and family relationship. His father is a colonel in the same +regiment; the father of his fiancée, Martha, is commanding officer. One +friend he has: an army doctor named Berens, who has infected himself +with cancer serum in attempting to discover a cure for the disease, +and passes for a drunkard because he keeps the symptoms in check by +alcohol. Here a parallel is drawn between military bravery and the +civilian courage of the scientist. + +Mari is put under arrest, but the affair is kept secret in order to +avoid a scandal. He can only be reinstated by full withdrawal and +apology. Martha comes to him and implores him to withdraw. The strike +is thought to be over. He can plead the excitement of the moment +in excuse, and the matter will be settled honorably. He gives way +and apologises. A friendly discussion of the point with his superior +officers is interrupted by a volley in the street outside. The troops +have fired upon the mob, and the son of the shoemaker over the way +has been shot. + +Mari sends in his papers; but a newspaper has published the facts of +the case, and he is met with the disgrace of immediate dismissal from +the army. This does not suit Martha. She must marry a soldier; civilian +life with a dismissed lieutenant was not in the bond. So Mari suffers +another disillusionment, and the end of the play sees him setting +out from home, while the old shoemaker is left to lament for his son. + +And the sum total of it all? A warm heart, a weakness for rhetoric, +and--a study in vacillation. + +In Ora et Labora Heijermans is less rhetorical; rather, one suspects, +for lack of a mouthpiece. His peasants bear their fate, if not in +silence, with almost inarticulate resignation. They are too hungry to +waste words. Moreover, there is no visible enemy to denounce, no Coat +of Mail, no racial prejudice, no insatiate capitalism. Winter is the +villain of the piece. This is indeed naturalism, in the literal sense; +humanity devoured by Nature. Everything is frost-bound: the canal, +the soil, the very cattle. The barges are idle. There is no work and +no warmth. When the last cow upon the farm dies of disease, its throat +is cut so that it can be sold to the butcher. All hopes are centred +in the father of the family, who is to sell the carcase in the town; +but he spends the money and returns home drunk. As a last resort, +his son Eelke enlists in the army for six years' colonial service, +leaving Sytske, the girl he was about to marry. His advance pay buys +fuel and food, but the lovers part with a hopeless quarrel, and the +old peasants are left wrangling over the money he has brought. + +Allerzielen (1906) is a later work. A village pastor finds a woman +in a state of collapse upon his threshold. He takes her in, and she +gives birth to a child. She is a stranger in the district, Rita by +name. The child is sent into the village to be nursed, while the +pastor gives up his own room to the mother. She recovers slowly, and +meanwhile the peasants set their tongues to work upon the scandal. The +child is discovered to be illegitimate. A good village housewife is +suckling a bastard. The pastor is housing an outcast, and shows no +sign of sending her about her business. The neighbouring clergy are +perturbed. Dimly and distantly the Bishop is said to be considering +the facts.... Amid alarums and excursions the affair pursues its +course. The village passes from astonishment to ribaldry, from ribaldry +to stone-throwing. The pastor speaks gently of Christian charity and +souls to be saved, but fails to appease his parishioners. They are +hot upon the scent in a heresy-hunt. If they could see within the +parsonage walls, they would yelp still louder. For Rita proves to be +an unblushing hedonist. No prayers for her, when the birth-pangs are +once over; no tears, no repentance. She sings gaily in her room while +the pastors argue about duty and morals. She feels "heavenly." She +invades the study to enjoy a view of sunlight, clouds and sea. She +finds the waves more musical than the wheezing of the church organ. If +only the child were with her, her happiness would be complete. + +But the child is neglected by its foster mother. It sickens and +dies. The pastor is driven from his church by the Bishop, and leaves +the broken windows of the parsonage to his successor. Rita and he +are both homeless now. And then the child's father comes,--another +hedonist. The child is dead, but Life remains. Its body lies in +unconsecrated ground, but the vows of love are renewed at the +graveside. The Church can only crush its own slaves. All roads are +open to the spirits of the free. The pastor can only offer a hopeless +"Farewell" as the two set out upon their way. But Rita calls after, +"No,--no! You will come over to us." + +It matters nothing that this gospel of Life has often been +preached. Heijermans has caught the spirit of it as well as the +letter. His characters say and do nothing particularly original; +nothing that would even pass for originality by reason of its +manner. He works in vivid contrasts, without a shade of paradox. He +figures the opposed forces of Reaction and Revolution in religion, +in statecraft, in economics, in all human relationships, with a +simplicity of mind which would draw a smile from the forever up-to-date +"intellectual." Reaction is a devilish superstition; Revolution +a prophetic angel pointing the way to the promised land. The one +is false, the other true. There is no disputing the point, since +truth and falsehood are absolute terms. Perhaps the secret is that +Heijermans never tires of his own philosophy. He is content to see it +firmly planted on the ground; he does not demand that it should walk +the tight-rope or turn somersaults as an intellectual exercise. He +has accepted a view of life which some call materialistic, and others +positivist, or scientific, or humanitarian; but for him it is simply +humane,--founded upon social justice and human need. + +A philosophy, however, does not make a dramatist. In the plays I +have already described Heijermans shows his power of translating +the world-struggle of thought into the dramatic clash of will, but +it is upon "The Good Hope" (Op Hoop van Zegen) that his reputation +chiefly depends. He chooses a great subject; not merely the conflict +of shipowners and fishermen in the struggle for existence, but the +sea-faring life and the ocean itself. Truly "a sea-piece"; tempestuous, +powerful. One can hear the breaking of the waves. From the opening +scene, with the old men's tale of sharks, to the night of the storm +in the third act, when the women and children huddle in Kneirtje's +cottage for shelter, the story is always the same. The sea is the +symbol of Fate. It takes a father here, a brother there. It seizes +Geert and Barend alike; the one going aboard carelessly, the other +screaming resistance. Sometimes it plays with its victims on shore, +making no sign, leaving months of hope to end in despair. In a more +merciful mood it sends children running through the village to cry +"'n Ball op! 'n Ball op!" as an overdue ship is signalled from the +coastguard tower. And there an echo of the sea-ballad now and again; +when raps are heard upon the door at the height of the storm, or +a flapping curtain blows out the lamp, or a pallid face is seen at +the window.... + +In sheer force of theatrical construction "The Good Hope" is still +more striking. There are great moments, finely conceived. The play is +full of natural rather than violent coincidence. Barend has always +feared death by drowning, and he makes his first and last voyage in +a leaky trawler. His father sank in a wreck, and it is his mother, +unable to maintain the household, who persuades him to go. She fears +the disgrace of his refusal after the papers are signed, but he is +dragged aboard by the harbour police. His brother Geert sets out +proudly enough, singing the Marseillaise and preaching rebellion; +but he sinks far away, impotent, unheard, and leaves his sweetheart +to bear a fatherless child. Old Cobus can only reflect, "We take +the fishes, and God takes us." That is perhaps the most dramatic +thread of all,--the parallel of fate. The struggle for existence on +land drives men to the fishing-boats and the Dogger Bank. From the +minnows to leviathan, there is no escape. "We take the fishes, and +God takes us." A gale of wind and rain whistles through the play, +sweeping the decks of life, tossing men out into the unknown. + +Let us turn to the social standpoint. The ship-owner, Bos, is frankly +a villain. He knows "The Good Hope" is unseaworthy, but he allows her +to sail. True, the warning comes from a drunken ship's carpenter, +but he understands the risks. Business is business. The ship is +well insured.... + +It is implied, then, that shipowners are unscrupulous scoundrels, +and fishermen their unhappy victims. Here is a bias which makes +the actual tragedy no more impressive. Good ships, as well as bad, +may perish in a storm. Nature is cruel enough without the help of +man. The problem of the big fish and the little fish is one of size, +not of morality. Even sharks may possibly rejoice in an amiable +temperament. It can only be said that Heijermans has here chosen the +right motive for his own particular type of drama. His sympathy is +with the fishermen. He knows that, humanly speaking, in every conflict +between employers and employed, the men are right and the masters +wrong. Impossible to redress the balance by individual virtue or +kindliness. The masters stand for the exploiting system; for capital, +for insurance, for power, for law and order and possession. Their +risks are less and their temptations greater. Even from the standpoint +of abstract justice, a dishonest employer may fairly be set against +a drunken labourer or a gaol-bird fisherman. The one is no less +natural than the other. But Heijermans goes beyond all finicking +considerations of this sort. He seeks to destroy and rebuild, not +to repair or adjust. He avoids mere naturalism; the "conscientious +transcription of all the visible and repetition of all the audible" +is not for him. And here he is undoubtedly justified, not only by +his own experience, but by that of other dramatists. There was no +inspiration in the movement towards mere actuality on the stage. It +sickened of its own surfeit of "life." Its accumulated squalor became +intolerable. It was choked by its own irrelevance, circumscribed +by its own narrowness. For naturalism is like a prison courtyard; +it offers only two ways of escape. One is the poet's upward flight, +the other the revolutionist's battering-ram. Heijermans has chosen +his own weapon, and used it well. He has given us "The Good Hope," +not as a mere pitiful study in disillusionment, but as a tragic symbol +of human effort in the conquest of despair. + + Ashley Dukes. + + + + + + + + + THE GOOD HOPE. + + A Drama of the Sea in Four Acts. + + By Herman Heijermans, Jr. + + Translated by Harriet Gampert Higgins. + + + + + +PERSONS. + + + Kneirtje, a fisherman's widow. + Geert } + Barend } her sons. + Jo, her niece. + Cobus, her brother. + Daantje, from the Old Men's Home. + Clemens Bos, a ship owner. + Clementine, his daughter. + Mathilde, his wife. + Simon, a ship carpenter's assistant. + Marietje, his daughter. + Mees, Marietje's betrothed. + Kaps, a bookkeeper. + Saart, a fisherman's widow. + Truus, a fisherman's wife. + Jelle, a beggar. + First Policeman. + Second Policeman. + + +The Drama is laid in a North Sea fishing village. + +Copyright 1912 by The Dramatic Publishing Company. + + + + + + + + + THE GOOD HOPE + + A Drama of the Sea in Four Acts. + + By Herman Heijermans, Jr. + + +ACT I. + + +[Kneirtje's home, a poor living-room. At the left, two wall bedsteads +and a door; to the right, against the wall, a chest of drawers +with holy images, vases and photographs. A chimney fireplace nearer +front. At the back wall, near right corner, a wicket leading to the +cooking shed; at left against the wall a cupboard; a cage with dove; +window with flower pots, left of center; in back wall right of center a +door overlooking a narrow cobblestone roadway backed by a view of beach +with sea in middle distance and horizon. Through the window to the left +is seen the red tiled lower corner of roof of a cottage. Time, noon.] + +CLEMENTINE. [Sketch book on her knee.] Now, then! Cobus! + +COBUS. [Who poses, awakes with a start, smiles.] He-he-he! I wasn't +asleep--No, no-- + +CLEM. Head this way--still more--what ails you now? You were sitting +so natural. Hand on the knee again. + +COBUS. Tja--when you sit still so long--you get stiff. + +CLEM. [Impatiently.] Please! please! stop chewing. + +COB. I haven't any chew. Look. + +CLEM. Then keep your mouth shut. + +DAANTJE. [Entering by the cooking shed.] Good day. + +CLEM. Good day. Take a walk around the corner. + +DAAN. No, Miss--time's up. [Looking at sketch.] It don't look like +him yet. + +CLEM. [Smiling.] + +DAAN. [Shifting his spectacles.] You see--if I may take the liberty, +Miss--his chin sets different--and his eyes don't suit me--but his +nose--that's him--and--and--his necktie, that's mighty natural--I'd +swear to that anywhere. + +CLEM. Indeed. + +DAAN. And the bedstead with the curtains--that's fine. Now, Miss, +don't you think you could use me? + +CLEM. Perhaps. Hand higher--keep your mouth still. + +COB. That's easy said--but when y'r used to chewing and ain't allowed +to--then you can't hold your lips still--what do you say, Daantje? + +DAAN. I say time's up. We eat at four and the matron is strict. + +CLEM. That will be necessary with you old fellows. + +DAAN. Peh! We've a lot to bring in, haven't we? An Old Man's Home is a +jail--scoldings with your feed--as if y'r a beggar. Coffee this morning +like the bottom of the rain barrel--and peas as hard as y'r corns. + +CLEM. If I were in your place--keep your mouth still--I'd thank God +my old age was provided for. + +COB. Tja--tja--I don't want to blaspheme, but-- + +DAAN. Thank God?--Not me--sailed from my tenth year--voyages--more +than you could count--suffered shipwreck--starvation--lost two sons +at sea--no--no. I say the matron is a beast--I'd like to slap her jaw. + +CLEM. That will do! This is no dive. + +DAAN. I know that, but it makes your gorge rise. I wasn't allowed to +go out last week because, begging your pardon, I missed and spat beside +the sand box. Now I ask, would you spit beside a box on purpose? An old +man's home is a jail--and when they've shut you up, in one of them, +decent, they're rid of you. Wish the sharks had eaten me before I +quit sailing. + +COB. [Giggling.] He! he! he! Man, the sharks wouldn't eat you--you +were too tough for them. + +CLEM. Keep your lips still! + +COB. Tja, tja. + +DAAN. Sharks not like me--They'll swallow a corpse. Peh! I saw old +Willem bitten in two till the blood spouted on high. And he was a +thin man. + +CLEM. Was old Willem eaten by a shark? + +DAAN. By one? By six. Quick as he fell overboard they grabbed him. The +water was red. + +CLEM. Hey! How frightful. And yet--I'd rather like to see a thing +like that. + +DAAN. Like to see it! We had to. + +CLEM. Did he scream? + +DAAN. Did he scream! + +COB. Tja, wouldn't you if you felt the teeth in your flesh? He--hehe! + +[Sound of a fiddle is heard outside. Cobus sways in his chair in time +to the tune.] Ta da da de--da da da-- + +CLEM. [Hastily closing the sketch book.] There then! [Rises.] Tomorrow +you sit still--You hear! + +COB. [Stretching himself.] All stiff! [Dances, snapping his fingers, +his knees wabbling.] Ta de da da--da-da-da. + +DAAN. [At the window.] Psst! Nobody home. + +JELLE. [Playing at window outside.] If you please. + +DAAN. Nobody home. + +JELLE. I come regular once a week. + +DAAN. They have gone to the harbor. + +CLEM. [Throws a coin out of the window.] There! [Playing stops.] + +JELLE. Thank you. [Searches for the coin.] + +COB. Behind that stone, stupid. + +DAAN. No; more that way. + +CLEM. I threw it out that way. Hey! what a donkey! Is he near-sighted? + +COB. He's got only half an eye--and with half an eye you don't see +much. [To Jelle.] Behind you! + +JELLE. I don't see anything. + +DAAN. [Barend appears at door.] Psst! Hey! Barend, you help him---- + +CLEM. There is a ten-cent piece out there. + +BAREND. [Basket of driftwood on his back.] Give it to 'im in his paws +then. [Enters.] [Throws down basket with a thud.] Here! + +COB. Did you hear that impudent boy? + +CLEM. Say there, big ape, were you speaking to me? + +BAR. [Shy and embarrassed.] No, Miss. I did not know you were there, +I thought---- + +COB. What right had you to think--better be thinking of going to sea +again to earn your Mother's bread. + +BAR. That's none of your business. + +COB. Just hear his insolence to me--when he's too bashful to open +his mouth to others. [Taunting.] I'm not afraid--he-he-he!--No, +I don't get the belly ache when I must go to sea--he-he-he! + +DAAN. Come along now. It's struck four. + +CLEM. Ten o'clock tomorrow, Cobus. + +DAAN. He can't do it, Miss, we must pull weeds in the court yard. + +COB. Yes, we must scratch the stones. + +CLEM. Tomorrow afternoon, then. + +COB. Tja! I'll be here, then. Good day, Miss. [To Barend.] Good day, +pudding breeches. + +CLEM. [Pinning on her hat.] He teases you, doesn't he? + +BAR. [Laughing bashfully.] Yes, Miss. + +CLEM. Been out searching the beach? [He nods embarrassed.] Found much? + +BAR. No, it was ebb last night--and--and--[Gets stuck.] + +CLEM. Are you really afraid to go to sea, silly boy? [He nods, +laughing.] They all go. + +BAR. [Dully.] Yes, they all go. + +CLEM. A man must not be afraid---- + +BAR. No, a man must not be afraid. + +CLEM. Well, then? + +BAR. [Timidly.] I'd rather stay on shore. + +CLEM. I won't force you to go--How old are you? + +BAR. Rejected for the army last month. + +CLEM. Rejected? + +BAR. For my--for my--I don't know why, but I was rejected. + +CLEM. [Laughing.] That's lucky--A soldier that's afraid! + +BAR. [Flaring up quickly.] I'm not afraid on land--let them come at +me--I'll soon stick a knife through their ribs! + +CLEM. Fine! + +BAR. [Again lapsing into embarrassment.] Beg pardon, Miss. [The soft +tooting of a steamboat whistle is heard.] That's the Anna--there's +a corpse on board---- + +CLEM. Another one dead? + +BAR. The flag hung half-mast. + +CLEM. Tu-tu-tu-tu--The second this week. First, the Agatha Maria---- + +BAR. No, 'twas the Charlotte. + +CLEM. Oh, yes! The Agatha was last week--Do they know who? [He shakes +his head.] Haven't you any curiosity? + +BAR. Ach--you get used to it--and none of our family are +aboard. [Embarrassed silence.] Father can't--Hendrick can't--Josef +can't--you know about them--and--and--Geert--he's still under arrest. + +CLEM. Yes, he's brought disgrace on all of you. + +BAR. Disgrace--disgrace---- + +CLEM. When is he free? + +BAR. I don't know. + +CLEM. You don't know? + +BAR. They gave him six months--but they deduct the time before +trial--we don't know how long that was, so we can't tell. + +KNEIRTJE. [Through the window.] Good day, Miss. + +CLEM. Good day. + +KNEIR. How did the chickens get out? Do look at that rooster! Get out, +you salamander! Kischt! Jo! Jo! + +BAR. Let them alone. They'll go of themselves. + +KNEIR. [Entering the room.] That's an endless devilment, Miss. [To +Barend.] Come, you, stick out your paws. Must we have another row +with Ari? + +BAR. Then we'll have a row. [Goes off indifferently, chases away the +chickens, outside.] + +KNEIR. Then we'll--such a lazy boy, I wish he'd never been +born--Sponger!--Are you going so soon, Miss? + +CLEM. I am curious to know what's happened on the Anna. + +KNEIR. Yes--I was on the way there--but it takes so long--and I've +had my fill of waiting on the pier--if that pier could only talk. Have +you finished my brother's portrait? + +CLEM. Tomorrow. I want to make a drawing of Barend also--just as he +came in with the basket on his shoulders. + +KNEIR. Barend? Well--All the same to me. + +CLEM. He doesn't seem to get much petting around here. + +KNEIR. [Annoyed.] Pet him! I should say not! The sooner I get rid of +him, the better! [Through the window.] Chase them away! Kischt! Kischt! + +BAR. [Outside.] All that yelling makes the rooster afraid. + +KNEIR. Afraid! He takes after you, then! Kischt! + +CLEM. Hahaha! Hahaha! Say, he's enjoying himself there on Ari's roof. + +JO. [Coming through the door at left. Brown apron--gold head pieces +on the black band around her head.] Good day. + +KNEIR. The chickens are out again! The rooster is sitting on Ari's +roof. + +JO. [Laughing merrily.] Hahaha! He's not going to lay eggs there! + +KNEIR. [Crossly.] Hear her talk! She knows well enough we almost came +to blows with Ari because the hens walked in his potato patch. + +JO. I let them out myself, old cross patch--Truus dug their potatoes +yesterday. + +KNEIR. Why didn't you say so then? + +JO. What am I doing now? Oh, Miss--she would die if she couldn't +grumble; she even keeps it up in her sleep. Last night she swore out +loud in her dreams. Hahaha! Never mind! scold all you like; you're a +good old mother just the same. [To Barend, who enters the room.] Ach, +you poor thing! Is the rooster setting on the roof? And does he refuse +to come down? + +BAR. You quit that now! + +JO. I'll wager if you pet the hens he will come down of himself from +jealousy. Hahaha! He looks pale with fear. + +CLEM. Now, now. + +JO. Say, Aunt, you should make a baker of him. His little bare feet +in the rye flour. Hahaha! + +BAR. You can all----[Goes angrily off at left.] + +JO. [Calling after him.] The poor little fellow! + +CLEM. Now, stop teasing him. Are you digging potatoes? + +JO. Tja; since four o'clock this morning. Nothing--Aunt--all rotten. + +KNEIR. We poor people are surely cursed--rain--rain--the crops had +to rot--they couldn't be saved--and so we go into the winter--the +cruel winter--Ach,--Ach,--Ach! + +JO. There! You're worrying again. Come, Mother, laugh. Am I ever +sad? Geert may return at any moment. + +KNEIR. Geert--and what then? + +JO. What then? Then--then--then, nothing! Cheer up! You don't add +to your potatoes by fretting and grumbling. I have to talk like this +all day to keep up her spirits--See, I caught a rabbit! + +CLEM. In a trap? + +JO. As neat as you please. The rascal was living on our poverty--the +trap went snap as I was digging. A fat one--forty cents at the least. + +CLEM. That came easy--I must go now. + +BOS. [At door.] Hello! Are you going to stay all day--May I come in? + +KNEIR. [Friendly manner.] Of course you may, Meneer; come in, Meneer. + +BOS. My paws are dirty, children. + +KNEIR. That's nothing. A little dry sand doesn't matter--will you +sit down? + +BOS. Glad to do so--Yes, Kneir, my girl, we're getting older every +day--Good day, little niece. + +JO. Good day, Meneer. [Points, laughing, to her hands.] You see---- + +BOS. Have you put on gloves for the dance? + +JO. [Nods saucily.] The hornpipe and the Highland fling, hey? + +BOS. Hahaha! Saucy black eye. [To Clementine.] Come, let me have +a look. + +CLEM. [Petulantly.] No, you don't understand it, anyway. + +BOS. Oh, thanks!--You educate a daughter. Have her take drawing +lessons, but must not ask to see--come! Don't be so childish! + +CLEM. [With spoiled petulance.] No. When it is finished. + +BOS. Just one look. + +CLEM. Hey, Pa, don't bother me. + +BOS. Another scolding, ha ha ha! + +[Barend enters.] + +BAR. [Bashfully.] Good day, Meneer. + +BOS. Well, Barend, you come as if you were called. + +BAR. [Surprised laugh.] I? + +BOS. We need you, my boy. + +BAR. Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. The deuce! How you have grown. + +BAR. Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. You're quite a man, now--How long have you been out of a job? + +BAR. [Shyly.] Nine months. + +KNEIR. That's a lie--It's more than a year. + +BAR. No, it isn't. + +JO. Well, just count up--November, December-- + +BOS. That'll do, children. No quarreling. Life is too short. Well, +Barend, how would the forty-seven suit you?--Eh, what?---- + +BAR. [Anxiously.] The forty-seven---- + +BOS. The Good Hope---- + +CLEM. [Surprised.] Are you going to send out the Good Hope?---- + +BOS. [Sharply.] You keep out of this! Keep out, I say! + +CLEM. And this morning---- + +BOS. [Angrily.] Clementine! + +CLEM. But Pa---- + +BOS. [Angrily stamping his foot.] Will you please go on? + +CLEM. [Shrugging her shoulders.] Hey! How contemptible, to get mad--how +small--Bonjour! [Exits.] + +KNEIR. Good day, Miss. + +BOS. [Smiling.] A cat, eh! Just like her Mama, I have to raise the +devil now and then,--hahaha!--or my wife and daughter would run +the business--and I would be in the kitchen peeling the potatoes, +hahaha! Not but what I've done it in my youth. + +KNEIR. And don't I remember---- + +BOS. [Smacking his lips.] Potatoes and fresh herring! but what's +past is gone. With a fleet of eight luggers your mind is on other +things--[Smiling.] Even if I do like the sight of saucy black +eyes--Don't mind me, I'm not dangerous--there was a time.----Hahaha! + +KNEIR. Go on, Meneer. Don't mind us. + +BOS. Well, our little friend here, what does he say? + +KNEIR. Open your mouth, speak! + +BAR. I would rather---- + +KNEIR. [Angrily.] Rather--rather! + +JO. Hey! What a stupid!---- + +BOS. Children! No quarreling. Boy, you must decide for yourself. Last +year at the herring catch the Good Hope made the sum of fourteen +hundred guilders in four trips. She is fully equipped, Hengst is +skipper--all the sailors but one--and the boys--Hengst spoke of you +for oldest boy. + +BAR. [Nervously.] No, no, Meneer---- + +KNEIR. Ah, the obstinate beast! All my beating won't drive him aboard. + +JO. If I were a man---- + +BOS. Yes, but you're not; you're a pretty girl--ha, ha, ha! We can't +use such sailors. Well, Daddy! And why don't you want to go? Afraid +of seasickness? You've already made one trip as middle boy---- + +KNEIR. And as play boy. + +JO. He'd rather loaf and beg. Ah! what a big baby. + +BOS. You are foolish, boy. I sailed with your grandfather. Yes, I, +too, would rather have sat by Mother's pap-pot than held eels with +my ice cold hands; rather bitten into a slice of bread and butter +than bitten off the heads of the bait. And your father---- + +BAR. [Hoarsely.] My father was drowned--and brother Hendrick--and +Josef--no, I won't go! + +BOS. [Rising.] Well--if he feels that way--better not force him, +Mother Kneirtje; I understand how he feels, my father didn't die +in his bed, either--but if you begin to reason that way the whole +fishery goes up the spout. + +KNEIR. [Angrily.] It's enough to---- + +BOS. Softly--softly--You don't catch tipsy herrings with force---- + +JO. [Laughing.] Tipsy herring, I would like to see that! + +BOS. [Laughing.] She doesn't believe it, Kneir! We know better! Eh, +what! + +KNEIR. Ach--it's no joking matter, Meneer, that miserable bad +boy talks as if--as if--I had forgotten my husband--and my good +Josef--and--and--but I have not. [Ends in low sobbing.] + +JO. Come, foolish woman! please, Aunty dear!--Good-for-nothing Torment! + +BOS. Don't cry, Kneir! Tears will not restore the dead to life---- + +KNEIR. No, Meneer--I know that, Meneer. Next month it will be twelve +years since the Clementine went down. + +BOS. Yes, it was the Clementine. + +KNEIR. November--'88--He was a monkey of seven then, and yet he +pretends to feel more than I do about it. + +BAR. [Nervously.] I didn't say that. I don't remember my father, +nor my brothers--but--but---- + +BOS. Well, then? + +BAR. I want another trade--I don't want to go to sea--no--no---- + +KNEIR. Another trade--What else can you do? Can't even read or +write---- + +BAR. Is that my fault? + +KNEIR. No--it is mine, of course! Three years I had an allowance--the +first year three--the second two twenty-five--and the third one +dollar--the other nine I had to root around for myself. + +BOS. Have you forgotten me entirely? + +KNEIR. I shall always be grateful to you, Meneer. If you and the +priest hadn't given me work and a warm bite now and then to take +home--then--then--and that booby even reproaches me!---- + +BAR. I don't reproach--I--I---- + +JO. Out with it! The gentleman is looking for a place to live off +his income. + +BAR. Shut up!--I will do anything--dig sand--plant broom--salting +down--I'll be a mason, or a carpenter--or errand boy---- + +JO. Or a burgomaster! Or a policeman! Hahaha! And walk about dark +nights to catch thieves--Oh!--Oh!--what a brave man! + +BOS. Little vixen! + +BAR. You make me tired!--Did I complain when the salt ate the flesh +off my paws so I couldn't sleep nights with the pain? + +KNEIR. Wants to be a carpenter--the boy is insane--A mason--see the +accidents that happen to masons. Each trade has something. + +BOS. Yes, Barendje--There are risks in all trades--my boy. Just think +of the miners, the machinists, the stokers--the--the--How often do +not I, even now, climb the man rope, or row out to a lugger? Fancies, +my boy! You must not give way to them. + +KNEIR. And we have no choice. God alone knows what the winter will +be. All the potatoes rotted late this fall, Meneer. + +BOS. Yes, all over the district. Well, boy? + +BAR. No, Meneer. + +KNEIR. [Angrily.] Get out of my house, then--sponger! + +BAR. [Faintly.] Yes, Mother. + +KNEIR. March! Or I'll----[Threatening.] + +BOS. Come, come. [A pause during which Barend walks timidly away.] + +JO. If I had a son like that---- + +BOS. Better get a lover first---- + +JO. [Brightly.] I've already got one!--If I had a son like that I'd +bang him right and left! Bah! A man that's afraid! [Lightly.] A sailor +never knows that sooner or later--He never thinks of that--If Geert +were that way--there, I know--Aunt, imagine--Geert---- + +BOS. Geert?---- + +JO. He'd face the devil--eh, Aunt? Now, I'm going to finish the +potatoes. Good bye, Meneer. + +BOS. Say, black eyes--do you laugh all the time? + +JO. [With burst of laughter.] No, I'm going to cry. [Calls back from +the opened door.] Aunt--speak of Geert. [Goes off.] + +BOS. Geert?--Is that your son, who---- + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. Six months? + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. Insubordination? + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer--Couldn't keep his hands at +home. + +BOS. The stupid blockhead! + +KNEIR. I think they must have teased him---- + +BOS. That's nonsense! They don't tease the marines. A fine state +of affairs. Discipline would be thrown overboard to the sharks if +sailors could deal out blows every time things didn't go to suit them. + +KNEIR. That's so, Meneer, but---- + +BOS. And is she--smitten with that good-for-nothing? + +KNEIR. She's crazy about him, and well she may be. He's a handsome +lad, takes after his father--and strong--there is his photograph--he +still wore the uniform then--first class--now he is---- + +BOS. Degraded?---- + +KNEIR. No, discharged--when he gets out. He's been to India twice--it +is hard--if he comes next week--or in two weeks--or tomorrow, I don't +know when--I'll have him to feed, too--although--I must say it of +him, he won't let the grass grow under his feet--A giant like him +can always find a skipper. + +BOS. A sweet beast--I tell you right now, Kneir, I'd rather not take +him--dissatisfied scoundrels are plenty enough these days--All that +come from the Navy, I'm damned if it isn't so--are unruly and I have +no use for that kind--Am I not right? + +KNEIR. Certainly, Meneer, but my boy---- + +BOS. There was Jacob--crooked Jacob, the skipper had to discharge +him. He was, God save him, dissatisfied with everything--claimed +that I cheated at the count--yes--yes--insane. Now he's trying it at +Maassluis. We don't stand for any nonsense. + +KNEIR. May I send him to the skipper then--or direct to the water +bailiff's office? + +BOS. Yes, but you tell him---- + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. If he comes in time, he can go out on the Good Hope. She's just +off the docks. They are bringing the provisions and casks aboard +now. She'll come back with a full cargo--You know that. + +KNEIR. [Glad.] Yes, Meneer. + +BOS. Well--Good bye! [Murmur of voices outside.] What's that? + +KNEIR. People returning from the harbor. There's a corpse aboard +the Anna. + +BOS. Pieterse's steam trawler--The deuce! Who is it? + +KNEIR. I don't know. I'm going to find out. + +[Both go off--the stage remains empty--a vague murmur of voices +outside. Fishermen, in conversation, pass the window. Sound of +a tolling church bell. Geert sneaks inside through the door at +left. Throws down a bundle tied in a red handkerchief. Looks cautiously +into the bedsteads, the cooking shed, peers through the window, then +muttering he plumps down in a chair by the table, rests his head on +his hand, rises again; savagely takes a loaf of bread from the back +cupboard, cuts off a hunk. Walks back to chair, chewing, lets the +bread fall; wrathfully stares before him. The bell ceases to toll.] + +BAR. [From the cooking shed.] Who's there?--Geert!--[Entering.] + +GEERT. [Curtly.] Yes--it's me--Well, why don't you give me a paw. + +BAR. [Shaking hands.] Have you--have you seen Mother yet? + +GEERT. [Curtly.] No, where is she---- + +BAR. Mother, she--she---- + +GEERT. What are you staring at? + +BAR. You--you--Have you been sick? + +GEERT. Sick? I'm never sick. + +BAR. You look so--so pale---- + +GEERT. Give me the looking-glass. I'll be damned. What a mug! [Throws +the mirror roughly down.] + +BAR. [Anxiously.] Was it bad in prison? + +GEERT. No, fine!--What a question--They feed you on beefsteaks! Is +there any gin in the house? + +BAR. No. + +GEERT. Go and get some then--if I don't have a swallow, I'll keel over. + +BAR. [Embarrassed.] I haven't any money. + +GEERT. I have. [Peers in his pocket, throws a handful of coins on +the table.] Earned that in prison--There!---- + +BAR. At the "Red" around the corner? + +GEERT. I don't care a damn--so you hurry. [Calling after him.] Is--is +Mother well? [A pause.]--and Jo? + +BAR. [At door.] She is digging potatoes. + +GEERT. Are they mad at me? + +BAR. Why? + +GEERT. Because I--[Savagely.] Don't stare so, stupid---- + +BAR. [Embarrassed.] I can't get used to your face--it's so queer. + +GEERT. Queer face, eh! I must grow a beard at once!--Say, did they +make a devil of a row? [Gruffly.] Well?---- + +BAR. I don't know. + +GEERT. Go to the devil! You don't know anything. + +[A pause, Barend slips out. Jo enters, a dead rabbit in her hand.] + +JO. Jesus! [Lets the rabbit fall.]--Geert! [Rushes to him, throws +her arms about his neck, sobbing hysterically.] + +GEERT. [In a muffled voice.] Stop it! Stop your damned bawling--stop! + +JO. [Continuing to sob.] I am so happy--so happy, dear Geert---- + +GEERT. [Irritated.] Now! Now! + +JO. I can't help it. [Sobs harder.] + +GEERT. [Pulling her arms from his neck.]--Now then! My head can't +stand such a lot of noise---- + +JO. [Startled.] A lot of noise? + +GEERT. [Grumbling.] You don't understand it of course--six months +solitary--in a dirty, stinking cell. [Puts his hand before his eyes +as if blinded by the light.] Drop the curtain a bit--This sunshine +drives me mad! + +JO. My God--Geert---- + +GEERT. Please!--that's better. + +JO. Your beard---- + +GEERT. They didn't like my beard--The government took that--become +ugly, haven't I?--Look as if I'd lost my wits? Eh? + +JO. [With hesitating laugh.] You? No--What makes you think that? You +don't show it at all. [Sobs again softly.] + +GEERT. Well, damn it! Is that all you have to say. [She laughs +hysterically. He points to his temples.] Become grey, eh? + +JO. No, Geert. + +GEERT. You lie. [Kicking away the mirror.] I saw it myself. The +beggars; to shut up a sailor in a cage where you can't walk, where you +can't speak, where you--[Strikes wildly upon the table with his fist.] + +BAR. Here is the gin. + +JO. The gin? + +BAR. For Geert. + +GEERT. Don't you meddle with this--Where is a glass?--Never +mind--[Swallows eagerly.]--That's a bracer! What time is it? + +BAR. Half past four. + +JO. Did you take bread? Were you hungry? + +GEERT. Yes, no--no, yes. I don't know. [Puts the bottle again to +his lips.] + +JO. Please, Geert--no more--you can't stand it. + +GEERT. No more? [Swallows.] Ripping!--Hahaha! That's the best way +to tan your stomach. [Swallows.] Ripping! Don't look so unhappy, +girl--I won't get drunk! Bah! It stinks! Not accustomed to it--Are +there any provisions on board? + +JO. Look--a fat one, eh? Trapped him myself. [Picks up the rabbit.] Not +dead an hour. + +GEERT. That will do for tomorrow--Here, you, go and lay in a +supply--some ham and some meat---- + +BAR. Meat, Geert? + +JO. No--that's extravagance--If you want to buy meat, keep your money +till Sunday. + +GEERT. Sunday--Sunday--If you hadn't eaten anything for six months but +rye bread, rats, horse beans--I'm too weak to set one foot before the +other. Stop your talk--Hurry up! and--and a piece of cheese--I feel +like eating myself into a colic. Hahaha! Shall I take another wee drop? + +[Barend goes off.] + +JO. No. + +GEERT. Good, not another drop. Is there any tobacco? + +JO. God!--I'm glad to see you cheerful again. Yes, there's some +tobacco left--in the jar. + +GEERT. That's good. Fine! Is that my old pipe? + +JO. I saved it for you. + +GEERT. Who did you flirt with, while I sat---- + +JO. [Merrily.] With Uncle Cobus! + +GEERT. You women are all trash. [Fills his pipe; smokes.] Haven't +had the taste in my mouth for half a year. This isn't tobacco; +[Exhales.] tastes like hay--Bah! The gin stinks and the pipe stinks. + +JO. Eat something first---- + +GEERT. [Laying down the pipe.] Say, do you still sleep with Mother? + +JO. Yes, next to the pig stye. + +GEERT. [Laughing.] And must I sleep under the roof again? + +JO. You'll sleep nice and warm up there, dear. + +KNEIR. [Outside.] Why is the window curtain down? + +JO. [Finger on her lips.] Sst! [Goes and stands before Geert.] + +KNEIR. [Inside.] What's going on here? Why is the looking-glass on +the floor? Who sits---- + +GEERT. [Rising.] Well, little old one! + +KNEIR. God almighty! + +GEERT. No--it's me--Geert---- + +KNEIR. [Dropping into a chair.] Oh!--Oh!--My heart beats so! + +GEERT. Hahaha! That's damned good! [Tries to embrace her.] + +KNEIR. No--no--not yet--later. + +GEERT. Not yet?--Why later? + +KNEIR. [Reproachfully.] You--what have you done to make me happy! + +JO. [Coaxingly.] Never mind that now---- + +GEERT. I've got enough in my head now. If you intend to reproach +me?--I shall---- + +KNEIR. You shall---- + +GEERT. Pack my bundle!---- + +KNEIR. And this is his home-coming! + +GEERT. Do you expect me to sit on the sinner's bench? No, thank you. + +KNEIR. [Anxious; almost crying.] The whole village talked about you--I +couldn't go on an errand but---- + +GEERT. [Curtly.] Let them that talk say it to my face. I'm no thief +or burglar. + +KNEIR. No, but you raised your hand against your superior. + +GEERT. [Fiercely.] I should have twisted my fingers in his throat. + +KNEIR. Boy--boy; you make us all unhappy. + +[Begins to sob.] + +GEERT. [Stamping.] Treated like a beast, then I get the devil +besides. [Grabs his bundle.] I'm in no mood to stand it. [At the door, +hesitates, throws down his bundle.] Now! [Lower voice.] Don't cry, +Mother--I would rather--Damn it! + +JO. Please--Auntie dear---- + +KNEIR. Your father lies somewhere in the sea. Never would he have +looked at you again--And he also had a great deal to put up with. + +GEERT. I'm glad I'm different--not so submissive--It's a great honor +to let them walk over you! I have no fish blood in me--Now then, +is it to go on raining? + +KNEIR. [Embracing him.] If you would only repent. + +GEERT. [Flaring up.] I'd knock the teeth out of his jaw tomorrow. + +KNEIR. How did it happen? + +JO. Hey! Yes--tell us all about it. Come, now, sit down peaceably. + +GEERT. I've sat long enough, hahaha!--Let me walk to get the hang of +it. [Lighting his pipe again.] Bah! + +JO. Stop smoking then, donkey! + +GEERT. Now I'll--But for you it would never have happened---- + +JO. [Laughing.] But for me?--that's a good +one! + +GEERT. I warned you against him. + +JO. Against who--What are you talking about? + +GEERT. That cad--Don't you remember dancing with him at the tavern +van de Rooie? + +JO. I?--Danced?---- + +GEERT. The night before we sailed. + +JO. With that cross-eyed quartermaster?--I don't understand a word +of it--was it with him?--And you yourself wanted me to---- + +GEERT. You can't refuse a superior--On board ship he had stories. I +overheard him tell the skipper that he---- + +JO. [Angrily.] What? + +GEERT. That he--never mind what--He spoke of you as if you were any +sailor's girl. + +JO. I!--The low down---- + +GEERT. When he came into the hold after the dog watch, I hammered +him on the jaw with a marlin spike. Five minutes later I sat in +irons. Kept in them six days--[Sarcastically.] the provost was full; +then two weeks provost; six months solitary; and suspended from the +navy for ten years; that, damn me, is the most--I'd chop off my two +hands to get back in; to be nigger-driven again; cursed as a beggar +again; ruled as a slave again---- + +KNEIR. Geert--Geert--Don't speak such words. In the Bible it stands +written---- + +GEERT. [Grimly.] Stands written--If there was only something written +for us---- + +KNEIR. Shame on you---- + +JO. Well, wasn't he in the right? + +KNEIR. If he had gone politely to the Commander---- + +GEERT. Hahaha! You should have been a sailor, +Mother--Hahaha! Politely? They were too glad of the chance to clip and +shear me. While I was in the provost they found newspapers in my bag I +was not allowed to read--and pamphlets I was not allowed to read--that +shut the door--otherwise they would have given me only third class---- + +KNEIR. Newspapers you were not allowed to read? Then why did you +read them? + +GEERT. Why--simple soul--Ach!--when I look at your submissive face I +see no way to tell why--Why do men desert?--Why, ten days before this +happened to me, did Peter the stoker cut off his two fingers?--Just +for a joke? No, on purpose! I can't blame you people--you knew no +better--and I admired the uniform--But now that I've got some brains +I would like to warn every boy that binds himself for fourteen years +to murder. + +KNEIR. To murder? Boy, don't say such dreadful things--you are +excited---- + +GEERT. Excited? No--not at all--worn out, in fact--in Atjeh I fought +with the rest--stuck my bayonet into the body of a poor devil till the +blood spurted into my eyes--For that they gave me the Atjeh medal. I +have it still in my bundle. Hand it here. [Jo picks up the bundle; +Barend looks on.] Where is the thing? [Jerks the medal from his +jacket, throws it out of the window.] Away! you have dangled on my +breast long enough! + +KNEIR. Geert! Geert! Who has made you like this! I no longer know +you---- + +GEERT. Who--who took an innocent boy, that couldn't count ten, and +kidnaped him for fourteen years? Who drilled and trained him for a +dog's life? Who put him in irons when he defended his girl? Irons--you +should have seen me walking in them, groaning like an animal. Near me +walked another animal with irons on his leg, because of an insolent +word to an officer of the watch. Six days with the damned irons on +your claws and no power to break them. Six days lower than a beast. + +JO. Don't talk about it any more, you are still so tired---- + +GEERT. [Wrapped in the grimness of his story.] Then the provost, +that stinking, dark cage; your pig stye is a palace to it. A cage +with no windows--no air--a cage where you can't stand or lie down. A +cage where your bread and water is flung to you with a "there, dog, +eat!" There was a big storm in those days,--two sloops were battered to +pieces;--when you expected to go to the bottom any moment. Never again +to see anyone belongin' to me--neither you--nor you--nor you. To go +down in that dark, stinking hole with no one to talk to--no comrade's +hand!--No, no, let me talk--it lightens my chest! Another drop. [Drinks +quickly.] From the provost to the court martial. A fellow has lots to +bring in there. Your mouth shut. Sit up; mouth shut some more. Gold +epaulettes sitting in judgment on the trash God has kicked into the +world to serve, to salute, to---- + +KNEIR. Boy--boy---- + +GEERT. Six months--six months in a cell for reformation. To be reformed +by eating food you could not swallow;--rye bread, barley, pea soup, +rats! Three months I pasted paper bags, and when I saw the chance I +ate the sour paste from hunger. Three months I sorted peas; you'll +not believe it, but may I never look on the sea again if I lie. At +night, over my gas light, I would cook the peas I could nip in my +slop pail. When the handle became too hot to hold any longer, I ate +them half boiled--to fill my stomach. That's to reform you--reform +you--for losing your temper and licking a blackguard that called your +girl a vile name, and reading newspapers you were not allowed to read. + +KNEIR. [Anxiously.] That was unjust. + +GEERT. Unjust! How dare you say it! Fresh from the sea--in a cell--no +wind and no water, and no air--one small high window with grating like +a partridge cage. The foul smell and the nights--the damned nights, +when you couldn't sleep. When you sprang up and walked, like an insane +man, back and forth--back and forth--four measured paces. The nights +when you sat and prayed not to go insane--and cursed everything, +everything, everything! [Drops his head upon his hands.] + +JO. [After a long pause goes to him and throws her arms about his +neck. Kneirtje weeps, Barend stands dazed.] Geert! + +GEERT. Now! Don't let us--[Forcibly controlling his tears.] A +light! [Smokes.] Now, Mother! [Goes to the window--says to Barend.] Lay +out the good things--[Draws up the curtain.] I'll be damned! if the +rooster isn't sitting on the roof again, ha, ha, ha! will you believe +it? I would like to sail at once--two days on the Sea! the Sea! the +Sea!--and I'm my old self again. What?--Why is Truus crying as she +walks by? Truus! [Calling.] + +KNEIR. Ssst!--Don't call after her. The Anna has just come in without +her husband. [A few sad-looking, low-speaking women walk past the +window.] Poor thing! Six children---- + +GEERT. Is Ari--[She nods.] That's damned sad! [Drops the window +curtain, stands in somber thought.] + + + CURTAIN. + + + + + + + + +ACT II. + + +[Same Room. Time--Early Afternoon.] + +JO. [By the table.] Hey! + +MARIETJE. [Entering.] They haven't come yet? + +SIMON. No, they haven't come yet. [Starting to go.] + +JO. Are you running away again? + +SIMON. That is to say---- + +MARIETJE. Good gracious, father, do stay awhile. + +SIMON. Yes--I won't go far--I must---- + +MARIETJE. You must nothing---- + +SIMON. Well, Salamander, am I a child? I must--I must----[Abruptly +off.] + +MARIETJE. Stop it if you can. It begins early in the morning. + +JO. Is he bad again? + +MARIETJE. You should have seen him day before yesterday--half the +village at his heels. Ach! Ach! When Mother was living he didn't +dare. She used to slap his face for him when he smelled of gin--just +let me try it. + +JO. [Bursting into a laugh.] You say that as though--ha ha ha! Mees +ought to hear that. + +MARIETJE. I never have seen Mees drinking--and father very seldom +formerly. Ah well--I can't put a cork in his mouth, nor lead him +around by a rope. [Looks through the window.] Gone, of course--to +the Rooie. Horrid old drunkard. How old is Kneirtje today? + +JO. Sixty-one. Young for her years, isn't she, eh? Sit down and tell me +[Merrily.] when are you going to be married? + +MARIETJE. That depends on the length of the voyage. You know we would +like to marry at once [Smiles, hesitates.] because--because----Well, +you understand. But Mees had to send for his papers first--that takes +two weeks--by that time he is far out at sea; now five weeks--five +little weeks will pass quickly enough. + +JO. [Joyfully confidential.] We shall be married in December. + +MARIETJE. That's about the same----Are you two!----Now?----I told +you everything---- + +[Jo shrugs her shoulders and laughs.] + +KNEIR. [Entering.] Laughing as usual. + +MARIETJE. [Kissing her.] May you live to be a hundred---- + +KNEIR. God forbid!--a hundred years. I haven't the money for +that! [Opening a bag.] You may try one--you, too--gingerbread nuts--no, +not two, you, with the grab-all fingers! For each of the boys a +half pound gingerbread nuts--and a half pound chewing tobacco--and +a package of cigars. Do you know what I'm going to give Barend since +he has become so brave--look---- + +JO. Now--you should give those to Geert---- + +KNEIR. No, I'm so pleased with the lad that he has made up his mind +I want to reward him. + +MARIETJE. Did you buy them? + +KNEIR. No, indeed! These are ever so old, they are earrings. My +husband wore them Sundays, when he was at home. + +MARIETJE. There are little ships on them--masts--and sails--I wish +I had them for a brooch. + +JO. Why give them to that coward? That's not right. + +MARIETJE. You had a time getting him to sign--Eh! + +KNEIR. Yes--yes. But he was willing to go with his brother--and +now take it home to yourself--a boy that is not strong--not very +strong--rejected for the army, and a boy who heard a lot about his +father and Josef. + +JO. I just can't stand that! First you curse and scold at him, and +now nothing is too good. + +KNEIR. Even so, no matter what has been. In an hour he will be gone, +and you must never part in anger. Have a sweet dram, Marietje. We +have fresh wafers and ginger cakes all laid in for my birthday--set it +all ready, Jo. Saart is coming soon, and the boys may take a dram, too. + +COBUS. [Through the window. Daantje with him.] + + A sweet young Miss + And a glass of Anis-- + I shall surely come in for this. + +KNEIR. Throw your chew away before you come in. + +COB. Indeed I'll not! [Hides it in his red handkerchief.] No--now--you +know what I want to say. + +DAAN. Same here. Same here. + +JO. I don't need to ask if----[Pours the dram.] + +COB. No--no--go ahead--just a little more. + +JO. There!--now it is running over. + +COB. No matter, I shan't spill a drop. [Bends trembling to the +table. Lips to the glass, sucks up the liquor.] He, he, he! + +DAAN. Ginger cake? If you please. [Yawns.] + +MARIETJE. [Imitating his yawn.] Ah! Thanks! + +DAAN. When you have my years!--Hardly slept a wink last night--and +no nap this afternoon. + +JO. Creep into the bedstead. + +COB. That's what he would like to do---- + +MARIETJE. Better take a hot bottle, Daan! + +COB. Now, if I had my choice---- + +KNEIR. Hold your tongue--Story teller! The Matron at the Home has to +help dress him. And yet he---- + +JO. Ha, ha, ha! Oh, Uncle Cobus! + +MARIETJE. Oh! Oh! Hahaha! + +COB. Tja! the Englishman says: "The old man misses the kisses, and +the young man kisses the misses." Do you know what that means? + +JO. Yes, that means, "Woman, take your cat inside, its beginning to +rain." Hahaha! Hahaha! + +SAART. [Through door at left.] Good day! Congratulations everybody! + +COB. Come in. + +SAART. Good day, Daantje; day, Cobus; and day, Marietje; and day, +Jo. No, I'll not sit down. + +KNEIR. A dram---- + +SAART. No, I'll not sit down. My kettle is on the fire. + +JO. Come now! + +SAART. No, I'm not going to do it--my door is ajar--and the cat may +tip over the oil stove. No, just give it to me this way--so--so--many +happy returns, and may your boys--Where are the boys? + +KNEIR. Geert has gone to say good bye, and Barend has gone with Mees +to take the mattresses and chests in the yawl. They'll soon be here, +for they must be on board by three o'clock. + +SAART. Hey, this burns my heart out. [Refers to the anisette.] Were +you at Leen's yesterday? + +KNEIR. No, couldn't go. + +SAART. There was a lot of everything and more too. The bride was +full,--three glasses "roses without thorns," two of "perfect love," +and surely four glasses of "love in a mist." Well! Where she stowed +it all I don't know. + +COB. Give me the old fashioned dram, brandy and syrup--eh! Daantje? + +DAANTJE. [Startled.] What? + +KNEIR. He's come here to sleep--you look as if you hadn't been to +bed at all. + +COB. In his bed--he, he, he! + +DAAN. [Crossly.] Come, no jokes. + +COB. Hehehe! [Takes out his handkerchief.] + +KNEIR. No, I say, don't take out your chew. + +SAART. Old snooper! + +COB. Snooper? No, you'd never guess how I got it. Less than ten +minutes ago I met Bos the ship-owner, and he gave me--he gave me a +little white roll--of--of tissue paper with tobacco inside. What do +you call the things? + +MARIETJE. Cigarettes. + +COB. Yes, catch me smoking a thing like that in--in paper--that's a +chew with a shirt on. + +SAART. And you're a crosspatch without a shirt. No, I'm not going to +sit down. + +JO. It's already poured out. + +SIMON. [Drunk.] Day. + +KNEIR. Day, Simon--shove in, room for you here. + +SIMON. [Plumps down by door at left.] I'll sit here. + +COB. Have a sweet dram? + +MARIETJE. No. + +SIMON. [Huskily.] Why no? + +MARIETJE. You've had enough. + +SIMON. Have I? Salamanders! + +MARIETJE. No, I won't have it. + +KNEIR. Did you see Geert? + +SIMON. [Muttering.] Wh--wh--Geert! + +COB. Give him just one, for a parting cup. + +MARIETJE. [Angrily.] No! No! + +SIMON. [Thickly.] No? I'll be damned! [Lights a nose warmer.] + +KNEIR. Is there much work in the dry dock, Simon? + +SIMON. That stands fast. + +SAART. Well--I'm going. + +JO. Hey! How unsociable! They'll soon be here. Come sit down---- + +SAART. No, if I sit down I stay too long. Well then, half a +glass--no--no cookies. + +GEERT. [Through door at left.] It looks like all hands on deck +here! Good day, everybody! [Pointing to Simon.] Lazarus! Eh, Simon? + +SIMON. [Muttering.] Uh--ja---- + +MARIETJE. Let him alone. + +GEERT. The deuce, but you're touchy! We've got a quarter of an hour, +boys! Pour out the drinks, Jo. [Sits between Kneir. and Jo.] Here's +to you, Mother! Prost! Santy, Jo! Santy, Daantje! Santys! + +JO. Hahaha! Fallen asleep with a ginger nut in his hand. + +KNEIR. Isn't he well? + +COB. No. Sick in the night--afraid to call the matron; walked about +in his bare feet; got chilled. + +GEERT. Afraid of the Matron! Are you eating charity bread? + +COB. It's easy for you to talk, but if you disturb her, she keeps +you in for two weeks. + +GEERT. Poor devils--I don't want to live to be so old. + +JO. Oh, real sweet of you. We're not even married +yet--and he's a widower already! + +GEERT. [Gaily.] There's many a slip! Hahaha! Shall I give him a +poke? I don't need a belaying pin----[Sings.] + + "Sailing, sailing, don't wait to be called; + Starboard watch, spring from your bunk; + Let the man at the wheel go to his rest; + The rain is good and the wind is down. + It's sailing, it's sailing, + It's sailing for the starboard watch." + +[The others join him in beating time on the table with their fists.] + +Hahaha! [General laugh.] + +DAAN. [Awakes with a start.] You'll do the same when you're as old +as I am. + +GEERT. Hahaha! I'll never be old. Leaky ships must sink. + +JO. Now, Geert. + +SAART. Never be old! You might have said that a while back when you +looked like a wet dish rag. But now! Prison life agreed with you, boy! + +COB. Hehehe! Now we can make up a song about you, pasting paper +bags--just as Domela--he he he! [Sings in a piping voice.] + + My nevvy Geert pastes paper bags, + Hi-ha, ho! + My nevvy Geert---- + +SAART. Pastes paper bags. + +DAAN., JO., MARIETJE AND COBUS. Hi--ha--ho! + +GEERT. [Laughing.] Go to thunder! You're making a joke of it! + +KNEIR. [Anxiously.] Please don't be so noisy. It isn't best. + +JO. Oh! I expected that! This is your birthday, see! Do take a chair, +Saart. + +SAART. Chair. I'm blest if I see---- + +MARIETJE. I don't mind standing. + +SAART. No--there's room here. [Squeezes in beside Cobus.] + +COB. I'll be falling off here! + +MARIETJE. [Standing beside her dazed father.] Father! + +SIMON. [Muttering.] They must--they must--not--not--that's fast. + +MARIETJE. Come, now! + +GEERT. Let the man sail his own mast overboard! He isn't in the way. + +SIMON. [With dazed gesture.] You must--you must---- + +MARIETJE. [Crossly.] What's the matter now? + +SIMON. [Mumbling.] The ribs--and--and----[Firmly.] That's fast!---- + +GEERT, JO., COBUS, DAANTJE AND SAART. Ha, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha! + +MEES. [Enters.] Salute! + +KNEIR. [Anxiously.] Are you alone? Where's Barend? + +MEES. I don't know. + +KNEIR. You went together to take the mattresses and chests---- + +MEES. Row with the skipper! He's no sailor! + +JO. A row? Has the trouble begun already? + +MEES. Can't repeat a word of it--afraid--afraid--always afraid----[To +Marietje, who has induced her father to rise.] Are you coming along? + +JO. No, take a dram before you go. It's Aunt's birthday. + +MEES. You don't say! Now--now--Kneir, many happy returns. + +KNEIR. You have made me anxious. + +JO. [Laughing.] Anxious! + +KNEIR. Yes, anxious! She's surprised at that. I've taken an advance +from Bos. + +GEERT. He's signed, hasn't he? Don't worry, Mother! + +COB. Perhaps he's saying good-bye to his girl. [Sound of Jelle's +fiddle outside.] Ta, de, da! + +SAART. Do sit still--one would think you'd eaten horse flesh. + +DAAN. They give us meat? Not even a dead cat! + +JELLE. [Playing the old polka.] If you please! + +GEERT. Come on in, old man! + +JO. Poor old fellow, gets blinder every day. + +JELLE. [Playing.] I come regular once a week. + +GEERT. Another tune first, Old Man! Not that damned old polka. + +JO. Yes, play that tune of--of--what do you call 'em? + +COB. Yes, the one she mentions is fine. + +SAART. You know, Jelle, the one--that one that goes [Sings.] "I know +a song that charms the heart." + +MEES. Say! Give us----[Jelle begins the Marseillaise.] That's better +fare. [Sings.] "Alloose--vodela--bedeije--deboe--debie--de boolebie." + +MARIETJE. Hahaha! That's the French of a dead codfish! + +JO. Hahaha! + +MEES. Laugh all you please! I've laid in a French port--and say, it +was first rate! When I said pain they gave me bread--and when I said +"open the port," they opened the door. Great! + +GEERT. All Gammon! Begin again, Jelle. Why the devil! Let's use the +Dutch words we've got for it. + +[Jelle begins again. Geert roars.] + + "Arise men, brothers, all united! + Arise burgers, come join with us! + Your wrongs, your sorrows be avenged"-- + +BOS. [Who has stood at the open window listening during the singing, +yells angrily.] What's going on here? [Scared hush over all.] Damn +it! It's high time you were all on board! [Goes off furious.] + +KNEIR. [After a long pause.] Oh--Oh--how he scared me--he! he! + +JO. What's the matter with him? + +MEES. I couldn't think where the voice came from. + +SAART. How stupid of you to roar like a weaned pig, when you know +Meneer Bos lives only two doors away. + +MARIETJE. Lord, wasn't he mad. + +COB. Hehehe! You'll never eat a sack of salt with him. + +KNEIR. What business had you to sing those low songs, anyway? + +GEERT. Well, I'll be damned! Am I in my own house or not? If he +hadn't taken me by surprise! An old frog like that before your eyes +of a sudden. I'd cleaned out his cupboard! Play on, Jelle! + +[Jelle begins again.] + +KNEIR. Ach, please don't, Geert. I'm afraid that if Meneer +Bos----[Motions to Jelle to stop.] + +GEERT. This one is afraid to sail, this one of the Matron of the Old +Men's Home, this one of a little ship owner! Forbids me in my own +house! Commands me as though I were a servant! + +SAART. Fun is fun, but if you were a ship owner, you wouldn't want +your sailors singing like socialists either. + +KNEIR. When he knows how dependent I am, too. + +GEERT. [Passionately.] Dependent! Don't be dependent! Is it an +honor to do his cleaning! Why not pay for the privilege! Thank him +for letting you scrub! Dependent! For mopping the office floor and +licking his muddy boots you get fifty cents twice a week and the +scraps off their plates. + +JO. Don't get so angry, foolish boy! + +KNEIR. Oh, what a row I'll get Saturday! + +GEERT. A row, you? Why should he row with you? If you hadn't all your +life allowed this braggart who began with nothing to walk over you +and treat you as a slave, while father and my brothers lost their +lives on the sea making money for him, you'd give him a scolding and +damn his hide for his insolence in opening his jaw. + +KNEIR. I--I--God forbid. + +GEERT. God forbids you to bend your neck. Here--take it--Jelle. Next +year Mother will give you pennies to play. "Arise men, brothers, +all unite-e-ed"---- + +KNEIR. Please, Geert, please don't. [Lays her hand on his mouth.] + +JO. Hey! Stop tormenting your old mother on her birthday. [Jelle +holds out his hand.] Here, you can't stand on one leg. + +COB. Do you want money from me? It's all in the bank. [Pointing to +Daan.] He's the man to go to. + +DAAN. [Crossly, drinking.] Peh! Don't make a fool of me. + +JELLE. Well, thanks to you both. [Off.] + +MEES. Will you come along now? + +GEERT. I'll wait a few minutes for Barend. What's your hurry? The +boys will come by here any way. + +SAART. Don't you catch on that those two are--A good voyage. + +MEES AND MARIETJE. [Shaking hands.] Good voyage! + +KNEIR. Half past two--I'm uneasy. + +SAART. Half past two? Have I staid so long--and my door ajar! Good +voyage. Good day, Kneir. [Off.] + +BOS. [Brusquely coming through the kitchen door.] Are you also planning +to stay behind? + +GEERT. [Gruffly.] Are you speaking to me? + +BOS. [Angrily.] Yes, to you. Skipper Hengst has my orders. Understand? + +GEERT. [Calmly to the others.] Gone crazy---- + +BOS. [More angry.] The police have been notified. + +GEERT. [With forced calm.] You and the police make me tired. [Cobus +and Daantje slink away, stopping outside to listen at the window.] Are +you out of your head? Who said I wasn't going? + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer, he is all ready to go. + +BOS. That other boy of yours that Hengst engaged--refuses to go. + +KNEIR. Oh, good God! + +BOS. [To Cobus and Daan.] Why are you listening? [They bow in a +scared way and hastily go on.] This looks like a dive--drunkenness +and rioting. + +JO. [Excusing.] It's Aunt's birthday. + +GEERT. [Angrily.] Mother's birthday or not, we do as we please here. + +BOS. You change your tone or---- + +GEERT. My tone? You get out! + +KNEIR. [Anxious.] Ach--dear Geert--Don't take offense, Meneer--he's +quick tempered, and in anger one says---- + +BOS. Things he's no right to say. Dirt is all the thanks you get for +being good to you people. [Threatening.] If you're not on board in +ten minutes, I'll send the police for you! + +GEERT. You send--what do you take me for, any way! + +BOS. What I take him for--he asks that--dares to ask----[To +Kneirtje.] You'll come to me again recommending a trouble-maker kicked +out by the Navy. + +GEERT. [Mocking.] Did you recommend? Hahaha! You make me laugh! You +pay wages and I do the work. For the rest you can go to hell. + +BOS. You're just a big overgrown boy, that's all! + +GEERT. [Threatening.] If it wasn't for Mother--I'd---- + +KNEIR. [Throwing her arms about him.] Geert! Geert! [A long pause.] + +BOS. And this in your house! Good day. [At the door.] Kneir, Kneir, +consider well what you do--I gave you an advance in good faith---- + +KNEIR. Ach, yes, Meneer--Ach, yes---- + +BOS. Haven't I always treated you well? + +KNEIR. Yes, Meneer--you and the priest---- + +BOS. One of your sons refuses to go, the other--you'll come to a bad +end, my little friend. + +GEERT. Haul in your fore sheet! On board I'm a sailor--I'm the skipper +here. Such a topsy turvy! A ship owner layin' down the law; don't do +this and don't do that! Boring his nose through the window when you +don't sing to suit him. + +BOS. For my part, sing, but a sensible sailor expecting to marry ought +to appreciate it when his employer is looking out for his good. Your +father was a thorough good man. Did he ever threaten his employer? You +young fellows have no respect for grey hairs. + +GEERT. Respect for grey hairs? By thunder, yes! for grey hairs that +have become grey in want and misery---- + +BOS. [Shrugging his shoulders.] Your mother's seen me, as child, +standing before the bait trays. I also have stood in an East wind +that froze your ears, biting off bait heads---- + +GEERT. That'll do. We don't care for your stories, Meneer. You have +become a rich man, and a tyrant. Good!--you are perhaps no worse than +the rest, but don't interfere with me in my own house. My father was +a different sort. We may all become different, and perhaps my son may +live to see the day when he will come, as I did, twelve years ago, +crying to the office, to ask if there's any news of his father and +his two brothers! and not find their employer sitting by his warm fire +and his strong box, drinking grog. He may not be damned for coming so +often to ask the same thing, nor be turned from the door with snubs +and the message, "When there's anything to tell you'll hear of it." + +BOS. [Roughly.] You lie--I never did anything of the sort. + +GEERT. I won't soil any more words over it. Only to let you know I +remember. My father's hair was grey, my mother's hair is grey, Jelle, +the poor devil who can't find a place in the Old Men's Home because +on one occasion in his life he was light-fingered--Jelle has also +grey hairs. + +BOS. Fine! Reasoning without head or tail. If you hear him or crooked +Jacob, it's the same cuckoo song. [To Kneir.] It's come out, eh? But +now I'll give another word of advice, my friend, before you go under +sail. You have an old mother, you expect to marry, good; you've been +in prison six months--I won't talk of that; you have barked out your +insolence to me in your own house, but if you attempt any of this +talk on board the Hope you'll find out there is a muster roll. + +GEERT. Every year old child knows that. + +BOS. When you've become older--and wiser--you'll be ashamed of your +insolence--"the ship owner by his warm stove, and his grog"---- + +GEERT. And his strong box---- + +BOS. [Hotly.] And his cares, you haven't the wits to understand! Who +feeds you all? + +GEERT. [Forced calmness.] Who hauls the fish out of the sea? Who +risks his life every hour of the day? Who doesn't take off his +clothes in five or six weeks? Who walks with hands covered with salt +sores,--without water to wash face or hands? Who sleep like beasts +two in a bunk? Who leave wives and mothers behind to beg alms? Twelve +head of us are presently going to sea--we get twenty-five per cent +of the catch, you seventy-five. We do the work, you sit safely at +home. Your ship is insured, and we--we can go to the bottom in case +of accident--we are not worth insuring---- + +KNEIR. [Soothing.] Geert! Geert! Geert! + +BOS. That's an entertaining lad! You should be a clown in a +circus! Twenty-seven per cent isn't enough for him---- + +GEERT. I'll never eat salted codfish from your generosity! Our whole +share is in "profit and loss." When luck is with us we each make eight +guilders a week, one guilder a day when we're lucky. One guilder a +day at sea, to prepare salt fish, cod with livers for the people in +the cities--hahaha!--a guilder a day--when you're lucky and don't go +to the bottom. You fellows know what you're about when you engage us +on shares. + +[Old and young heads of fishermen appear at the window.] + +A VOICE. Are you coming? [Bos is politely greeted.] + +GEERT. I shall soon follow you. + +BOS. Good voyage, men! And say to the skipper--no, never mind--I'll +be there myself----[A pause.] Twenty-five minutes past two. Now I'll +take two minutes more, blockhead, to rub under your nose something +I tried three times to say, but you gave me no chance to get in a +word. When you lie in your bunk tonight--as a beast, of course!--try +and think of my risks, by a poor catch--lost nets and cordage--by +damages and lightning in the mast, by running aground, and God knows +what else. The Jacoba's just had her hatches torn off, the Queen +Wilhelmina half her bulwarks washed away. You don't count that, +for you don't have to pay for it! Three months ago the Expectation +collided with a steamer. Without a thought of the catch or the nets, +the men sprang overboard, leaving the ship to drift! Who thought of +my interests? You laugh, boy, because you don't realize what cares I +have. On the Mathilde last week the men smuggled gin and tobacco in +their mattresses to sell to the English. Now the ship lies chained. Do +you pay the fine? + +GEERT. Pluck feathers off a frog's back. Hahaha! + +BOS. If you were talking about conditions in Middelharnis or Pernis, +you'd have reason for it. My men don't pay the harbor costs, don't +pay for bait, towing, provisions, barrels, salt. I don't expect you +to pay the loss of the cordage, if a gaff or a boom breaks. I go into +my own pocket for it. I gave your mother an advance, your brother +Barend deserts. + +KNEIR. No, Meneer, I can't believe that. + +BOS. Hengst telephoned me from the harbor, else I wouldn't have +been here to be insulted by your oldest son, who's disturbing the +whole neighborhood roaring his scandalous songs! I'm going to the +ship! [Angrily.] If you're not on board on time I'll apply "Article +Sixteen" and fine you twenty-five guilders. + +GEERT. Yes, why not? I can stand it! + +BOS. [Turning to Kneir.] As for you, my wife doesn't need you at +present, you're all a bad lot here. + +KNEIR. [Anxiously.] Ach, Meneer, it isn't my fault! + +GEERT. Must you punish the old woman too? + +BOS. Blame your own sons for that! After this voyage you can look for +another employer, who enjoys throwing pearls before swine better than +I do! + +GEERT. And now, get out! Get out! [Pushes the door shut after Bos.] + +KNEIR. What a birthday! What a birthday! + +JO. Don't hang your head so soon, Aunt! Geert was in the right---- + +KNEIR. In the right! What good does that do? + +GEERT. You're not running after him? + +KNEIR. No, to look for Barend. Great God, if he should desert--if he +deserts--he also goes to prison--two sons who---- + +GEERT. Aren't you going to wish me a good voyage--or don't you think +that necessary? + +KNEIR. My head is queer. I'm coming to the harbor. Yes, I'm coming---- + +JO. I'm sorry for her, the poor thing. + +GEERT. He's a hound, that fellow! + +JO. Where's your sou'wester? Hope it isn't mislaid. You gave him a +talking to, didn't you? It was drunken Simon that set him going. Now +don't look so solemn. Here it is. [Picks a geranium from a flower +pot.] There! And you keep it on, so. [On his knee.] And you will +think of me every night, will you? Will you? [Springing up.] What, +are you back so soon? + +KNEIR. [Enters.] Isn't he in here? + +GEERT. He's in the pocket of my jacket! Hahaha! + +KNEIR. Truus saw him hanging around the house. Ach! Ach! Ach! + +GEERT. We're going! Come along with us. If that coward refuses to go, +your sitting at home won't help a damn. + +KNEIR. No, no, no. + +JO. Follow after us, then! + +KNEIR. [Anxiously.] Yes, yes, yes! Don't forget your chewing tobacco +and your cigars---- + +GEERT. [Gaily.] If you're too late--I'll never look at you again! + +[Exeunt Geert and Jo.] + +BAR. [Entering quickly from left.] S-s-s-st! + +KNEIR. You miserable bad boy! + +BAR. S-ssst! + +KNEIR. What sssst! I'll shout the whole village together if you don't +immediately run and follow Geert and Jo. + +BAR. [Panting.] If you can keep Geert from going--call him back! + +KNEIR. Have you gone crazy with fear, you big coward? + +BAR. [Panting.] The Good Hope is no good, no good--her ribs are +rotten--the planking is rotten!---- + +KNEIR. Don't stand there telling stories to excuse yourself. After +half past two! March!---- + +BAR. [Almost crying.] If you don't believe me! + +KNEIR. I won't listen. March! or I'll slap your face. + +BAR. Strike me then! Strike me then! Ah, God! keep Geert from +going! Simon the ship carpenter warned me. + +KNEIR. Simon, the ship carpenter--that drunken sot who can't speak +two words. You are a disgusting bad boy. First you sign, then you +run away! Get up! + +BAR. Me--you may beat me to death!--but I won't go on an unseaworthy +ship! + +KNEIR. What do you know about it? Hasn't the ship been lying in the +dry docks? + +BAR. There was no caulking her any more--Simon---- + +KNEIR. Shut your mouth with your Simon! March, take your package of +chewing tobacco. + +BAR. [Yelling.] I'm not going--I'm not going. You don't know--you +didn't see it! The last voyage she had a foot of water in her hold! + +KNEIR. The last voyage? A ship that has just returned from her fourth +voyage to the herring catch and that has brought fourteen loads! Has +it suddenly become unseaworthy, because you, you miserable coward, +are going along? + +BAR. [With feverish anxiety.] I looked in the hold--the barrels were +floating. You can see death that is hiding down there. + +KNEIR. Bilge water, as in every ship! The barrels floating! Tell that +to your grandmother, not to an old sailor's wife. Skipper Hengst +is a child, eh! Isn't Hengst going and Mees and Gerrit and Jacob +and Nellis--your own brother and Truus' little Peter? Do you claim +to know more than old seamen? [Fiercely.] Get up! I'm not going to +stand it to see you taken aboard by the police---- + +BAR. [Crying.] Oh, Mother dear, Mother dear, don't make me go! + +KNEIR. Oh, God; how you have punished me in my children--my children +are driving me to beggary. I've taken an advance--Bos has refused to +give me any more cleaning to do--and--and----[Firmly.] Well, then, +let them come for you--you'd better be taken than run away. Oh, oh, +that this should happen in my family---- + +BAR. [Running to the cooking shed.] + +KNEIR. [Barring the way.] You'll not get out---- + +BAR. Let me pass, Mother. I don't know what I'm doing--I might hurt---- + +KNEIR. Now he is brave, against his sixty year old mother----Raise +your hand if you dare! + +BAR. [Falls on a chair shaking his head between his hands.] Oh, oh, +oh--If they take me aboard, you'll never see me again--you'll never +see Geert again---- + +KNEIR. The ship is in God's hands. It's tempting God to rave this +way with fear----[Friendlier tone.] Come, a man of your age must +not cry like a child--come! I wanted to surprise you with Father's +earrings--come! + +BAR. Mother dear--I don't dare--I don't dare--I shall drown--hide +me--hide me---- + +KNEIR. Have you gone insane, boy! If I believed a word of your talk, +would I let Geert go? [Puts a package in his pocket.] There's a +package of tobacco, and one of cigars. Now sit still, and I'll put +in your earrings--look--[Talking as to a child.]--real silver--ships +on them with sails--sit still, now--there's one--there's two--walk +to the looking glass---- + +BAR. [Crying.] No--no!---- + +KNEIR. Come now, you're making me weak for nothing--please, +dear boy--I do love you and your brother--you're all I have on +earth. Come now! Every night I will pray to the good God to bring you +home safely. You must get used to it, then you will become a brave +seaman--and--and----[Cries.] Come now, Barend, Barend! [Holds the +mirror before him.] Look at your earrings--what?---- + +1ST POLICEMAN. [Coming in through door at left, good-natured +manner.] Skipper Hengst has requested the Police----If you please, +my little man, we have no time to lose. + +BAR. [Screaming.] I won't go! I won't go! The ship--is rotten---- + +2ND POLICEMAN. [Smiling good naturedly.] Then you should not have +mustered in. Must we use force? Come now, little man. [Taps him kindly +on the shoulder.] + +BAR. Don't touch me! Don't touch me! [Clings desperately to the +bedstead and door jamb.] + +2ND POLICEMAN. Must we put on the handcuffs, boy? + +BAR. [Moaning.] Help me, Mother! You'll never see me again! I shall +drown in the dirty, stinking sea! + +1ST POLICEMAN. [Crossly.] Come, come! Let go of the door jamb! [Seizes +his wrists.] + +BAR. [Clinging harder.] No! [Shrieking.] Cut off my hands! Oh God, Oh +God, Oh God! [Crawls up against the wall, beside himself with terror.] + +KNEIR. [Almost crying.] The boy is afraid---- + +1ST POLICEMAN. Then you tell him to let go! + +KNEIR. [Sobbing as she seizes Barend's hands.] Come now, boy--come +now--God will not forsake you---- + +BAR. [Moaning as he loosens his hold, sobs despairingly.] You'll +never see me again, never again---- + +1ST POLICEMAN. Forward, march! + +[They exeunt, dragging Barend.] + +KNEIR. Oh, oh---- + +TRUUS. [With anxious curiosity, at side door.] What was the matter, +Kneir? + +KNEIR. [Sobbing.] Barend had to be taken by the police. Oh, and now +I'm ashamed to go walk through the village, to tell them good bye--the +disgrace--the disgrace---- + + CURTAIN. + + + + + + + + +ACT III. + + +[Scene: Same as before. Evening. A lighted lamp--the illuminated +chimney gives a red glow. A rushing wind howls about the house. Jo +and Kneirtje discovered. Kneirtje lying on bed, dressed, Jo reading +to her from prayerbook.] + +JO. And this verse is mighty fine. Are you listening? [Reads.] + + "Mother Mary! in piteousness, + To your poor children of the sea, + Reach down your arms in their distress; + With God their intercessor be. + Unto the Heart Divine your prayer + Will make an end to all their care." + +[Staring into the bed.] Are you asleep? Aunt! Are you asleep? [A +knock--she tiptoes to cook-shed door, puts her finger to her lips in +warning to Clementine and Kaps, who enter.] Softly, Miss. + +CLEMENTINE. [To Kaps.] Shut the door. What a tempest! My eyes are +full of sand. [To Jo.] Is Kneir in bed? + +JO. She's lying down awhile in her clothes. She's not herself yet, +feverish and coughing. + +CLEMENTINE. I've brought her a plate of soup, and a half dozen +eggs. Now then, Kaps! Kaps! + +KAPS. Yes? + +CLEMENTINE. On the table. What a bore! Deaf as a post! What were +you reading? + +JO. The "Illustrated Catholic." + +CLEMENTINE. Where did you put the eggs? + +KAPS. I understand. + +KNEIRTJE. [From the bedstead.] Is anyone there? + +CLEMENTINE. It's me, Clementine. + +KNEIRTJE. [Rising.] Hasn't the wind gone down yet? + +CLEMENTINE. I've brought you some veal soup, Kneir. It's +delicious. Well, Almighty! You've spilled it all over. + +KAPS. I'd like to see you carry a full pan with the sand blowing in +your eyes. + +CLEMENTINE. Well, its mighty queer. There was twice as much meat in it. + +KAPS. What? Can't hear, with the wind. + +KNEIRTJE. Thank you kindly, Miss. + +CLEMENTINE. [Counting the eggs.] One, two, three, four! The others? + +KAPS. There's five--and--[Looking at his hand, which drips with egg +yolk.]--and---- + +CLEMENTINE. Broken, of course! + +KAPS. [Bringing out his handkerchief and purse covered with egg.] I +put them away so carefully. What destruction! What a muss! + +JO. [Laughing.] Make an omelet of it. + +KAPS. That's because you pushed against me. Just look at my keys. + +CLEMENTINE. [Laughing.] He calls that putting them away +carefully. You'd better go home. + +KAPS. [Peevishly.] No, that's not true. + +CLEMENTINE. [Louder.] You may go! I can find the way back alone! + +KAPS. My purse, my handkerchief, my cork screw. [Crossly.] Good +night. [Off.] + +CLEMENTINE. I don't know why Father keeps that bookkeeper, deaf, +and cross. Does it taste good? + +KNEIRTJE. Yes, Miss. You must thank your mother. + +CLEMENTINE. Indeed I'll not. Pa and Ma are obstinate. They haven't +forgotten the row with your sons yet. Mouth shut, or I'll get a +scolding. May Jo go to the beach with me to look at the sea? The +waves have never been so high! + +JO. Yes, I'll go, Miss. + +KNEIRTJE. No, don't leave me alone. Go on the beach in such a +storm! [Crash outside, she screams.] + +JO. What was that? + +CLEMENTINE. I heard something break. [Enter Cobus.] + +COB. God bless me! That missed me by a hair. + +JO. Are you hurt? + +COB. I got a tap aft that struck the spot. Lucky my head wasn't +there! The tree beside the pig stye was broken in two like a pipe stem. + +KNEIRTJE. Did it come down on the pig stye? + +COB. I believe it did. + +KNEIRTJE. I'm afraid it's fallen in. The wood is so rotten. + +JO. Ach, no! Aunt always expects the worst. [Surprised.] Uncle Cobus, +how do you come to be out, after eight o'clock, in this beastly +weather? + +COB. To fetch the doctor for Daan. + +CLEMENTINE. Is old Daan sick? + +COB. Tja. Old age. Took to his bed suddenly. Can't keep anything on +his stomach. The beans and pork gravy he ate---- + +CLEMENTINE. Beans and pork gravy for a sick old man? + +COB. Tja. The matron broils him a chicken or a beefsteak--Eh? She's +even cross because she's got to beat an egg for his breakfast. This +afternoon he was delirious, talking of setting out the nets, and paying +out the buoy line. I sez to the matron, "His time's come." "Look out or +yours'll come," sez she. I sez, "The doctor should be sent for." "Mind +your own business," sez she, "am I the Matron or are you?" Then I +sez, "You're the matron." "Well then," sez she. Just now, she sez, +"You'd better go for the doctor." As if it couldn't a been done this +afternoon. I go to the doctor and the doctor's out of town. Now I've +been to Simon to take me to town in his dog car. + +JO. Is Simon coming here? + +CLEMENTINE. If drunken Simon drives, you're likely to roll off +the dyke. + +COB. He isn't drunk tonight. + +JO. Give him a chalk mark for that. Must the doctor ride in the dog +car? Hahaha! + +COB. Why not if he feels like it? Shall I tell you something? Hey, +what a storm! Listen! Listen! The tiles will soon be coming down. + +JO. Go on, now, tell us the rest. + +COB. What I want to say is, that it's a blessing for Daantje he's +out of his head, 'fraid as he's always been of death. Afraid! + +JO. So is everyone else, Cobus. + +COB. Every one? That's all in the way you look at it. If my time +should come tomorrow, then, I think, we must all! The waters of the sea +will not wash away that fact. God has given, God has taken away. Now, +don't laugh, think! God takes us and we take the fish. On the fifth +day He created the Sea, great whales and the moving creatures that +abound therein, and said: "Be fruitful," and He blessed them. That +was evening and that was morning, that was the fifth day. And on the +sixth day He created man and said also: "Be fruitful," and blessed +them. That was again evening and again morning, that was the sixth +day. No, now, don't laugh. You must think. When I was on the herring +catch, or on the salting voyage, there were times when I didn't dare +use the cleaning knife. Because when you shove a herring's head +to the left with your thumb, and you lift out the gullet with the +blade, the creature looks at you with such knowing eyes, and yet +you clean two hundred in an hour. And when you cut throats out of +fourteen hundred cod, that makes twenty-eight hundred eyes that look +at you! Look! Just look. Ask me how many fish have I killed? I had few +equals in boning and cutting livers. Tja, tja, and how afraid they all +were! Afraid! They looked up at the clouds as if they were saying: +"How about this now. He blessed us same as He blessed you?" I say: +we take the fish and God takes us. We must all, the beasts must, +and the men must, and because we all must, none of us should--now, +that's just as if you'd pour a full barrel into an empty one. I'd +be afraid to be left alone in the empty barrel, with every one else +in the other barrel. No, being afraid is no good; being afraid is +standing on your toes and looking over the edge. + +KNEIRTJE. Is that a way to talk at night? You act as if you'd had +a dram. + +COB. A dram? No, not a drop! Is that Simon? + +KNEIRTJE. [Listening between the bedsteads.] Am I right about the pig +stye or not? Hear how the poor animal is going on out there. I'm sure +the wall has fallen in. + +JO. Let me go then. Don't you go outside! + +KNEIRTJE. Ach, don't bother me! [Off.] + +JO. You pour yourself out a bowl, Uncle Cobus! I'll give her a +helping hand. + +COB. Take care of the lamp chimney. + +CLEMENTINE. [At the window.] Oh! Oh! Oh! What a gale! [Returning to +the table.] Cobus, I'll thank God when the Good Hope is safely in. + +COB. Tja. No ship is safe tonight. But the Hope is an old ship, +and old ships are the last to go down. + +CLEMENTINE. That's what you say. + +COB. No, that's what every old sailor says. Have a bowl, Miss? + +CLEMENTINE. [After a silence, staring.] All the same, I shall pray +God tonight. + +COB. That's real good of you, Miss. But the Jacoba is out and the +Mathilda is out and the Expectation is out. Why should you pray for +one ship? + +CLEMENTINE. The Good Hope is rotten--so--so----[Stops anxiously.] + +COB. [Drinking coffee.] Who said that? + +CLEMENTINE. That's what----Why--that's what----I thought----It just +occurred to me. + +COB. No, you are lying now. + +CLEMENTINE. Oh, you are polite! + +COB. If the Good Hope was rotten, then your father would---- + +CLEMENTINE. Oh, shut your fool mouth, you'll make Kneir anxious. Quick, +Kneir, shut the door, for the lamp. + +KNEIRTJE. [Entering with Jo.] Good thing we looked. + +JO. The stye had blown down. + +KNEIRTJE. Oh, my poor boys! How scared Barend will be, and just as +they're homeward bound. + +JO. Coffee, Mother? Aunt! Funny, isn't it, eh? I keep saying +Mother. You take another cup, Miss. The evening is still so long and +so gloomy--Yes? + +[Enter Simon and Marietje, who is crying.] + +SIMON. Good evening. Salamanders, what a wind! Stop your damn +howling---- + +KNEIRTJE. What's the matter? + +MARIETJE. When I think of Mees. + +KNEIRTJE. Now, now, look at Jo. Her lover is also--be a good seaman's +wife. Foolish girl! Don't be childish. Give her a bowl to cheer her up. + +MARIETJE. It's going into the sixth week. + +COB. Don't cry before you're hurt! You girls haven't had any trouble +yet! Is the carriage at the door? + +SIMON. I'm damned if I like the trip. If it wasn't for Daan---- + +JO. Here, this will warm you up, Simon. + +SIMON. [Drinking.] Curse it, that's hot. It's happened to me before +with the dog car, in a tempest like this. It was for Katrien. She was +expecting every minute. I was upset twice, car and all. And when the +doctor came, Katrien was dead and the child was dead, but if you ask +me, I'd rather sit in my dog car tonight than to be on the sea. + +KNEIRTJE. Yes! Yes! + +JO. Another bowl? + +SIMON. No, don't let us waste our time. Ready, Cobus? + +COB. If you'll only be careful! Good night, all! [Both exit.] + +JO. Jesus! Don't sit around so solemn! Let's talk, then we won't +think of anything. + +MARIETJE. Last night was stormy, too, and I had such a bad dream. It +was so awful. + +CLEMENTINE. Foolish girl! Dreams are not real. + +MARIETJE. I can't rightly say it was a dream. There was a rap on the +window, once. I lay still. Again a rap, then I got up. Nothing to be +seen. Nothing. Soon as I lay down there came another rap, so. [Raps on +the table with her knuckles.] And then I saw Mees, his face was pale, +pale as--God! Oh, God! and there was nothing. Nothing but the wind. + +KNEIRTJE. [In deadly fear.] Rapped three times? Three times? + +MARIETJE. Each time--like that, so----[Raps.] + +JO. You stupid, you, to scare the old woman into a fit with your +raps. [A rap. All startled. Enter Saart and Truus.] + +SAART. How scared you all look! Good evening, Miss. + +TRUUS. May we come in awhile? + +JO. Hey! Thank God you've come. + +SAART. Nasty outside! My ears and neck full of sand, and it's +cold. Just throw a couple of blocks on the fire. + +TRUUS. I couldn't stand it at home either, children asleep, no one +to talk to, and the howling of the wind. Two mooring posts were +washed away. + +KNEIR. [Darning a sock.] Two mooring posts! + +SAART. Talk about something else. + +JO. Yes, I say so too. What's that to us----Milk and sugar? Yes, eh? + +SAART. What a question! I take coffee without sugar! + +JO. Well, Geert never takes sugar. + +CLEMENTINE. Your little son was a brave boy, Truus. I can see him +now as he stood waving good-bye. + +TRUUS. [Knitting.] Yes, that boy's a treasure, barely twelve. You +should have seen him two and a half months ago. When the Anna came +in without Ari. The child behaved like an angel, just like a grown +man. He would sit up evenings to chat with me, the child knows more +than I do. The lamb, hope he's not been awfully sea sick. + +SAART. [Knitting.] Now, you may not believe it, but red spectacles +keep you from being sea sick. + +JO. [Mending a flannel garment.] Hahaha! Did you ever try it +yourself? You're like the doctors, they let others swallow their doses. + +SAART. Many's the night I've slept on board; when my husband was +alive I went along on many a voyage. + +JO. Should like to have seen you in oil skins. + +CLEMENTINE. Were you ever married, Saart? + +SAART. Hear, now, the young lady is flattering me. I'm not so bad +looking as that, Miss. Yes, I was married. Spliced good and fast, +too! He was a good man. An excellent man. Now and then, when things +didn't go to suit him, without speaking ill of the dead, I may say, +he couldn't keep his paws at home; then he'd smash things. I still +have a coffee pot without a handle I keep as a remembrance.--I wouldn't +part with it for a rix dollar. + +CLEMENTINE. I won't even offer you a guilder! Hahaha! + +JO. Say, you're such a funny story teller, tell us about the Harlemmer +oil, Saart. + +SAART. Yes, if it hadn't been for Harlemmer oil I might not have been +a widow. I could marry again! + +CLEMENTINE. How odd! + +JO. You must hear her talk. Come, drink faster! + +SAART. I'm full to the brim! What are you staring at Kneir? That's just +the wind. Now, then, my man was a comical chap. Never was another like +him. I'd bought him a knife in a leather sheath, paid a good price +for it too, and when he'd come back in five weeks and I'd ask him: +"Jacob, have you lost your knife?" he'd say, "I don't know about my +knife--you never gave me a knife." He was that scatter-brained. But +when he'd undress himself for the first time in five weeks, and pulled +off his rubber boots, bang, the knife would fall on the floor. He +hadn't felt it in all that time. + +CLEMENTINE. Didn't take off his rubber boots in five weeks? + +SAART. Then I had to scrub 'im with soap and soda; he hadn't seen +water, and covered with vermin. + +CLEMENTINE. Hey! Ugh! + +SAART. Wish I could get a cent a dozen for all the lice on board; +they get them thrown in with their share of the cargo. Hahaha! Now +then, his last voyage a sheet of water threw him against the bulwarks +just as they pulled the mizzen staysail to larboard, and his leg was +broke. Then they were in a fix--The skipper could poultice and cut a +corn, but he couldn't mend a broken leg. Then they wanted to shove a +plank under it, but Jacob wanted Harlemmer oil rubbed on his leg. Every +day he had them rub it with Harlemmer oil, and again Harlemmer oil, +and some more Harlemmer oil. Ach, the poor thing! When they came in +his leg was a sight. You shouldn't have asked me to tell it. + +JO. Last time you laughed about it yourself. + +SAART. Now, yes; you can't bring the dead back to life. And when you +think of it, it's a dirty shame I can't marry again. + +CLEMENTINE. Why not? Who prevents you? + +SAART. Who? Those that pieced together the silly laws! A year later +the Changeable went down with man and mouse. Then, bless me, you'd +suppose, as your husband was dead, for he'd gone along with his leg +and a half, you could marry another man. No, indeed. First you must +advertise for him in the newspapers three times, and then if in three +times he don't turn up, you may go and get a new license. + +TRUUS. [Monotonously knitting.] I don't think I'll ever marry again. + +SAART. That's not surprisin' when you've been married twice already; +if you don't know the men by this time. + +TRUUS. I wish I could talk about things the way you do. No, it's +anxiety. With my first it was a horror; with my second you know +yourselves. + +CLEMENTINE. Go on, Truus. I could sit up all night hearing tales of +the sea. + +KNEIRTJE. Don't tell stories of suffering and death---- + +SAART. Hey! How fretful you are! Come, pour us some more coffee. + +TRUUS. [Quietly knitting and speaking in a toneless voice.] Ach, +it couldn't have happened here, Kneir. We lived in Vlaardingen then, +and I'd been married a year without any children. No, Pietje was Ari's +child--and he went away on the Magnet. Yes, it was the Magnet. On the +herring catch. That's gone up now. And you understand what happened; +else I wouldn't have got acquainted with Ari and be living next door +to you now. The Magnet stayed on the sands or some other place. But +I didn't know that then, and so didn't think of it. + +JO. Ssst! Keep still! + +SAART. It's nothing. Only the wind. + +TRUUS. Now in Vlaardingen they have a tower and on the tower a lookout. + +MARIETJE. Same as at Maassluis. + +TRUUS. And this lookout hoists a red ball when he sees a lugger or +a trawler or other boat in the distance. And when he sees who it +is, he lets down the ball, runs to the ship owner and the families +to warn them; that's to say: the Albert Koster or the Good Hope is +coming. Now mostly he's no need to warn the family. For, as soon as +the ball is hoisted in the tower, the children run in the streets +shouting, I did it, too, as a child: "The ball is up! The ball is +up!" Then the women run, and wait below for the lookout to come down, +and when it's their ship they give him pennies. + +CLEMENTINE. And then---- + +TRUUS. [Staring into the fire.] And--and--the Magnet with my first +husband, didn't I say I'd been married a year? The Magnet stayed out +seven weeks--with provisions for six--and each time the children +shouted: "The ball is up, Truus! The ball is up, Truus!" Then I +ran like mad to the tower. No one looked at me. They all knew why +I ran, and when the lookout came down I could have torn the words +out of his mouth. But I would say: "Have you tidings--tidings of +the Magnet?" Then he'd say: "No, it's the Maria," or the Alert, +or the Concordia, and then I'd drag myself away slowly, so slowly, +crying and thinking of my husband. My husband! And each day, when +the children shouted, I got a shock through my brain, and each day I +stood by the tower, praying that God--but the Magnet did not come--did +not come. At the last I didn't dare to go to the tower any more when +the ball was hoisted. No longer dared to stand at the door waiting, +if perhaps the lookout himself would bring the message. That lasted +two months--two months--and then--well, then I believed it. [Toneless +voice.] The fish are dearly paid for. + +CLEMENTINE. [After a silence.] And Ari?--What happened to him? + +TRUUS. Ari? + +JO. Now, that's so short a time since. + +TRUUS. [Calmly.] Ach, child, I'd love to talk about it to every +one, all day long. When you've been left with six children--a good +man--never gave me a harsh word--never. In two hours he was gone. A +blow from the capstan Bar. He never spoke again. Had it happened six +days later they would have brought him in. We would have buried him +here. The sharks already swam about the ship. They smell when there's +a corpse aboard. + +KNEIRTJE. Yes, that's true, you never see them otherwise. + +TRUUS. [Resigned.] You'll never marry a fisherman, Miss; but it's sad, +sad; God, so sad! when they lash your dear one to a plank, wrapped in +a piece of sail with a stone in it, three times around the big mast, +and then, one, two, three, in God's name. The fish are dearly paid +for. [Sobs softly.] + +JO. [Rising and embracing her.] Now, Truus! + +SAART. Pour her out another bowl. [To Marietje.] Are you crying +again? She keeps thinking of Mees? + +MARIETJE. No, I wasn't thinking of Mees, I was thinking of my little +brother, who was also drowned. + +JO. [Nervously.] You all seem to enjoy it. + +CLEMENTINE. Wasn't that on the herring catch? + +MARIETJE. [Going on with her knitting.] His second voyage, a blow +from the fore sail, and he lay overboard. He was rope caster. The +skipper reached him the herring shovel, but it was smooth and it +slipped from his hands. Then Jerusalem, the mate, held out the broom +to him--again he grabbed hold. The three of them pulled him up; then +the broom gave way, he fell back into the waves, and for the third +time the skipper threw him a line. God wanted my little brother, the +line broke, and the end went down with him to the bottom of the sea. + +CLEMENTINE. Frightful! frightful!--Grabbed it three times, and lost +it three times. + +MARIETJE. As if the child knew what was coming in the morning, he had +lain crying all night. So the skipper told. Crying for Mother, who was +sick. When the skipper tried to console him, he said: "No, skipper, +even if Mother does get well, I eat my last herring today." That's +what started Father to drinking. + +CLEMENTINE. Now, Marietje. + +MARIETJE. No, truly, Miss, when he came back from Pieterse's with the +money, Toontje's share of the cargo as rope caster, eighteen guilders +and thirty-five cents for five and a half weeks. Then he simply acted +insane, he threw the money on the ground, then he cursed at--I won't +repeat what--at everything. And I, how old was I then? Fourteen. I +picked up the money, crying. We needed it. Mother's sickness and burial +had cost a lot. Eighteen guilders is a heap of money, a big heap. + +JO. Eighteen guilders for your child, eighteen--[Listening in alarm +to the blasts of the wind.] Hush! keep still! + +SAART. Nothing, nothing at all! What makes you so afraid tonight? + +JO. Afraid? I afraid? No, say, Hahaha!---- + +KNEIRTJE. [Staring straight ahead.] Yes, yes, if the water could +only speak. + +CLEMENTINE. Come now, you tell a tale of the sea. You've had so +much experience. + +KNEIRTJE. A tale? Ach, Miss, life on the sea is no tale. Nothing +between yourself and eternity but the thickness of a one-inch +plank. It's hard on the men, and hard on the women. Yesterday I passed +by the garden of the Burgomaster. They sat at table and ate cod from +which the steam was rising, and the children sat with folded hands +saying grace. Then, thought I, in my ignorance--if it was wrong, may +God forgive me--that it wasn't right of the Burgomaster--not right +of him--and not right of the others. For the wind blew so hard out +of the East, and those fish came out of the same water in which our +dead--how shall I say it?--in which our dead--you understand me. [A +pause.] It was foolish to think such nonsense. It is our living, +and we must not rebel against our living. + +TRUUS. Yes, I know how that is. + +KNEIRTJE. [Quietly darning.] My husband was a fisherman. One out of a +thousand. When the lead was dropped he could tell by the taste of the +sand where they were. Often in the night he'd say we are on the 56th +and on the 56th they'd be. And what experiences he had sailing! Once +he drifted about two days and nights in a boat with two others. That +was the time they were taking in the net and a fog came up so thick +they couldn't see the buoys, let alone find the lugger. Two days and +nights without food. Later when the boat went to pieces--you should +have heard him tell it--how he and old Dirk swam to an overturned +rowboat; he climbed on top. "I'll never forget that night," said +he. Dirk was too old or tired to get a hold. Then my husband stuck +his knife into the boat. Dirk tried to grasp it as he was sinking, +and he clutched in such a way that three of his fingers hung +down. Yes! yes! It all happened. Then at the risk of his own life, +my husband pulled Dirk up onto the overturned boat. So the two of +them drifted in the night, and Dirk--old Dirk--from loss of blood +or from fear, went insane. He sat and glared at my husband with the +eyes of a cat. He raved of the devil that was in him. Of Satan, and +the blood, my husband said, ran all over the boat--the waves were +kept busy washing it away. Just at dawn Dirk slipped off, insane +as he was. My man was picked up by a freighter that sailed by. But +it was no use, three years later--that's twelve years ago now--the +Clementine--named after you by your father--stranded on the Doggerbanks +with him and my two oldest. Of what happened to them, I know nothing, +nothing at all. Never a buoy, or a hatch, washed ashore. Nothing more, +nothing. You can't realize it at first, but after so many years one +can't recall their faces any more, and that's a blessing. For hard it +would be if one remembered. Now, I've told my story. Every sailor's +wife has something like this in her family, it's not new. Truus is +right: "The fish are dearly paid for." Are you crying, Miss? + +CLEMENTINE. [Bursting out.] God! If any ships should go down tonight. + +KNEIRTJE. We are all in God's hands, and God is great and good. + +JO. [Springing up wildly.] Ships go down! Ships go down! The one +howls. The other cries. I wish I'd sat alone tonight. [Beating her +head with her fists.] You're all driving me mad, mad, mad! + +CLEMENTINE. [Amazed.] Jo, what ails you? + +JO. [Passionately.] Her husband and her little brother--and my poor +uncle--those horrible stories--instead of cheering us up! Ask me now +for my story! [Shrieking.] My father was drowned, drowned, drowned, +drowned! There are others--all--drowned, drowned!--and--you are all +miserable wretches--you are! [Violently bangs the door shut as she +runs out.] + +TRUUS. [Anxiously.] I believe she's afraid. + +MARIETJE. Shall I go after her? + +KNEIRTJE. No, child, she will quiet down by herself. Nervous strain +of the last two days. Are you going now, Miss? + +CLEMENTINE. It has grown late, Kneir, and your niece--your niece was a +little unmannerly. No, I'm not offended. Who is going to take me home? + +SAART. If one goes, we all go. Together we won't blow away. Good +night, Kneir. + +MARIETJE. [Depressed.] Good night, Aunt Kneir. + +KNEIRTJE. Thank you again, Miss, for the soup and eggs. + +TRUUS. Are you coming to drink a bowl with me tomorrow night? Please +say yes. + +KNEIRTJE. Well, perhaps. Good night, Miss. Good night, Marietje. Good +night, Saart. If you see Jo send her in at once. [All go out except +Kneirtje. She clears away the cups. A fierce wind howls, shrieking +about the house. She listens anxiously at the window, shoves her +chair close to the chimney, stares into the fire. Her lips move in +a muttered prayer while she fingers a rosary. Jo enters, drops into +a chair by the window and nervously unpins her shawl.] + +KNEIRTJE. You'd better go to bed. You are all unstrung. What an +outburst! And that dear child that came out in the storm to bring me +soup and eggs. + +JO. [Roughly.] Your sons are out in the storm for her and her father. + +KNEIRTJE. And for us. + +JO. And for us. [A silence.] The sea is so wild. + +KNEIRTJE. Have you been to look? + +JO. [Anxiously.] I couldn't stand against the wind. Half the guard +rail is washed away, the pier is under water. [A silence. Kneirtje +prays.] Oh! Oh! I'm dead from those miserable stories! + +KNEIRTJE. You're not yourself tonight. You never went on like this +when Geert sailed with the Navy. Go to bed and pray. Prayer is the +only consolation. A sailor's wife must not be weak. In a month or two +it will storm again; each time again. And there are many fishermen on +the sea besides our boys. [Her speech sinks into a soft murmur. Her +old fingers handle the rosary.] + +JO. Barend, we almost drove him away! I taunted him to the +last. [Seeing that Kneirtje prays, she walks to the window wringing +her hands, pulls up the curtain uncertainly, stares through the window +panes. Then she cautiously opens a window shutter. The wind blows the +curtain on high, the lamp dances, the light puffs out. She swiftly +closes the window.] + +KNEIRTJE. [Angry from fear.] Have you gone crazy! Keep your paws off +that window! + +JO. [Moaning.] Oh! oh! oh!---- + +KNEIRTJE. [Terrified.] Shut your mouth! Look for the matches! Not so +slow! Quick! Beside the soap dish. [A silence.] Have you got them? [Jo +lights the lamp, shivering with fear.] I'm completely chilled. [To Jo, +who crouches sobbing by the chimney.] Why do you sit there? + +JO. I'm afraid. + +KNEIRTJE. [Anxiously.] You must not be. + +JO. If anything happens--then--then---- + +KNEIRTJE. Be sensible. Undress yourself. + +JO. No, I shall stay here all night. + +KNEIRTJE. Now, I ask you, how will it be when you're married? When +you are a mother yourself? + +JO. [Passionately.] You don't know what you say! You don't know +what you say, Aunt Kneir! If Geert--[Stops, panting.] I didn't dare +tell you. + +KNEIRTJE. Is it between you and Geert? [Jo sobs loudly.] That was not +good of you--not good--to have secrets. Your lover--your husband--is +my son. [A silence, the wind shrieks.] Don't stare that way into the +fire. Don't cry any more. I shall not speak any hard words. Even if +it was wrong of you and of him. Come and sit opposite to me, then +together we will--[Lays her prayerbook on the table.] + +JO. [Despairingly.] I don't want to pray. + +KNEIRTJE. Don't want to pray? + +JO. [Excitedly.] If anything happens---- + +KNEIRTJE. [Vehemently.] Nothing will happen! + +JO. [Wildly.] If anything--anything--anything--then I'll never pray +again, never again. Then there is no God. No Mother Mary--then there +is nothing--nothing---- + +KNEIRTJE. [Anxiously.] Don't talk like that. + +JO. What good is a child without a husband! + +KNEIRTJE. How dare you say that? + +JO. [Beating her head on the table.] The wind! It drives me mad, mad! + +KNEIRTJE. [Opens the prayerbook, touches Jo's arm. Jo looks up, sobbing +passionately, sees the prayerbook, shakes her head fiercely. Again +wailing, drops to the floor, which she beats with her hands. Kneirtje's +trembling voice sounds.] Oh Merciful God! I trust! With a firm faith, +I trust. [The wind races with wild lashings about the house.] + + + CURTAIN. + + + + + + + + +ACT IV. + + +[An old-fashioned office. Left, office door, separated from the +main office by a wooden railing. Between this door and railing are +two benches; an old cupboard. In the background; three windows with +view of the sunlit sea. In front of the middle window a standing +desk and high stool. Right, writing table with telephone--a safe, +an inside door. On the walls, notices of wreckage, insurance, maps, +etc. In the center a round iron stove.] + +[Kaps, Bos and Mathilde discovered.] + +MATHILDE. Clemens!---- + +KAPS. [Reading, with pipe in his mouth.] "The following wreckage, +viz.: 2,447 ribs, marked Kusta; ten sail sheets, marked 'M. S. G.'" + +MATHILDE. Stop a moment, Kaps. + +KAPS. "Four deck beams, two spars, five"---- + +MATHILDE. [Giving him a tap.] Finish your reading later. + +KAPS. Yes, Mevrouw. + +BOS. [Impatiently.] I have no time now. + +MATHILDE. Then make time. I have written the circular for the tower +bell. Say, ring up the Burgomaster. + +BOS. [Ringing impatiently.] Quick! Connect me with the +Burgomaster! Yes! This damn bother while I'm busy. Up to my ears +in--[Sweetly.] Are you there? My little wife asks---- + +MATHILDE. If Mevrouw will come to the telephone about the circular. + +BOS. [Irritably.] Yes! yes! Not so long drawn--[Sweetly.] If Mevrouw +will come to the telephone a moment? Just so, Burgomaster,--the +ladies--hahaha! That's a good one. [Curtly.] Now? What do you want +to say? Cut it short. [To Mathilde.] + +MATHILDE. Here, read this circular out loud. Then it can go to the +printers. + +BOS. [Angrily.] That whole sheet! Are you crazy? Do you think I +haven't anything on my mind! That damned---- + +MATHILDE. Keep your temper! Kaps!---- + +BOS. Go to hell! [Sweetly.] Yes, Mevrouw. Tomorrow. My wife? No, +she can't come to the telephone herself, she doesn't know +how. [Irritably.] Where is the rag? Hurry up! [Reaches out hand for +paper. Mathilde hands it to him.] My wife has written the circular for +the tower bell. Are you listening? [Reads.] "Date, postmark, MM." What +did you say? You would rather have L. S.? Yes, yes, quite right. Do you +hear? [Reads.] "You are no doubt acquainted with the new church."--She +says, "No," the stupid! I am reading, Mevrouw, again. "You are no +doubt acquainted with the new church. The church has, as you know, +a high tower; that high tower points upward, and that is good, that is +fortunate, and truly necessary for many children of our generation"---- + +MATHILDE. Read more distinctly. + +BOS. [To Mathilde.] Shut your mouth. Pardon, I was speaking to +my bookkeeper. [In telephone.] Yes--yes--ha, ha, ha--[Reads again +from paper.] "But that tower could do something else that also is +good. Yes, and very useful. It can mark the time for us children of the +times. That it does not do. It stands there since 1882 and has never +answered to the question, 'What time is it?' That it should do. It +was indeed built for it, there are four places visible for faces; +for years in all sorts of ways"--Did you say anything? No?--"for years +the wish has been expressed by the surrounding inhabitants that they +might have a clock--About three hundred guilders are needed. Who will +help? The Committee, Mevrouw"--What did you say? Yes, you know the +names, of course. Yes, very nicely worded? Yes--Yes--All the ladies of +the Committee naturally sign for the same amount, a hundred guilders +each? Yes--Yes--Very well--My wife will be at home, Mevrouw. [Rings off +angrily.] Damned nonsense!--a hundred guilders gone to the devil! What +is it to you if there's a clock on the damn thing or not? + +MATHILDE. [Turns away.] I'll let you fry in your own fat. + +BOS. She'll be here in her carriage in quarter of an hour. + +MATHILDE. Bejour! bejour! If you drank less grog in the evenings +you wouldn't have such a bad temper in the mornings. Just hand me +five guilders. + +BOS. No, no! You took five guilders out of my purse this morning +while I was asleep. I can keep no---- + +MATHILDE. I take a rix dollar! What an infamous lie. Just one +guilder! Bah, what a man, who counts his money before he goes to bed! + +BOS. Bejour! bejour! + +MATHILDE. Very well, don't give it--Then I can treat the Burgomaster's +wife to a glass of gin presently--three jugs of old gin and not a +single bottle of port or sherry! [Bos angrily throws down two rix +dollars.] Say, am I your servant? If it wasn't for me you wouldn't +be throwing rix dollars around!--Bah! [Goes off angrily.] + +KAPS. [Reading.] IJmuiden, 24 December--Today there were four sloops +in the market with 500 to 800 live and 1,500 to 2,100 dead haddock +and some--live cod--The live cod brought 7 1/4--the dead---- + +BOS. Haven't you anything else to do? + +KAPS. The dead haddock brought thirteen and a half guilders a basket. + +BOS. [Knocking on the desk.] I know all that! Here, take hold! Take +your book--turn to the credit page of the Expectation---- + +KAPS. [Looking.] The Jacoba? no, the Queen Wilhelmina? no, the +Mathilde? no--the Good Hope?--We can whistle for her. The Expectation? + +BOS. What was the gross total? + +KAPS. Fourteen hundred and forty-three guilders and forty-seven cents. + +BOS. I thought so. How could you be so ungodly stupid, to deduct four +guilders, 88, for the widows and orphans' fund? + +KAPS. Let's see. [Figuring.]--1,443--3 per cent off--that's +1,400--that's gross three hundred and 87 guilders--yes, it should be +three guilders, 88, instead of four, 88. + +BOS. [Rising.] If you're going into your dotage, Jackass! you can +go. Your errors are always on the wrong side! + +KAPS. [With a knowing laugh.] There might be something to say against +that, Meneer--you didn't go after me when, when---- + +BOS. Now, that'll do, that'll do!---- + +KAPS. And that was an error with a couple of big ciphers after it. [Bos +goes off impatiently at right.] Hehehe! It all depends on what side---- + +[Looks around, sees Bos is gone, pokes up the fire; fills his pipe from +Bos's tobacco jar, carefully steals a couple of cigars from his box.] + +SIMON. [Entering.] Is Bos here? + +KAPS. Mynheer Bos, eh?--no. + +SIMON. Is he out? + +KAPS. Can't you give me the message? + +SIMON. I ask you, is he out? + +KAPS. Yes. + +SIMON. No tidings? + +KAPS. No. Has this running back and forth begun again? Meneer said +that when he got news, he---- + +SIMON. It will be nine weeks tomorrow. + +KAPS. The Jacoba came in after fifty-nine days' lost time. + +SIMON. You are--You know more than you let on. + +KAPS. Are you loaded already? + +SIMON. Not a drop. + +KAPS. Then it's time--I know more, eh? I'm holding off the ships by +ropes, eh? + +SIMON. I warned you folks when that ship lay in the docks. What were +the words I spoke then, eh? + +KAPS. [Shrugging his shoulders.] All tales on your part for a glass +of gin! + +SIMON. You lie. You was there, and the Miss was there. I says, +"The ship is rotten, that caulking was damn useless. That a floating +coffin like that"---- + +KAPS. Good! that's what you said. I don't deny it. What of it? Are +you so clever that when you're half drunk---- + +SIMON. [Angry.] That's a damned lie! + +KAPS. Not drunk then, are you such an authority, you a shipmaster's +assistant, that when you say "no," and the owner and the Insurance +Company say "yes," my employer must put his ship in the dry docks? + +SIMON. Damned rot! I warned you! And now, I say--now, I say--that +if Mees, my daughter's betrothed, not to speak of the others, if +Mees--there will be murder. + +KAPS. You make me laugh! Go get yourself a dram and talk sense. + +[Enter Marietje.] + +SIMON. Better have stayed outside. No tidings. + +MARIETJE. [Softly sobbing.] No tidings. + +SIMON. Murder will come of it. [Both off.] + +BOS. [Enters.] Who's here? + +KAPS. Simon and his daughter. Threats! Are you going out? + +BOS. Threats! Is the fellow insane? I'll be back in ten +minutes. Whoever comes must wait. + +KAPS. He spoke of---- + +BOS. I don't care to hear! [Off.] + +KAPS. [Goes back to his desk; the telephone rings. He solemnly listens +at the receiver.] Can't understand you. I am the bookkeeper. Mynheer +will be back in ten minutes. Ring up again. + +[Enter Saart.] + +SAART. Good day, my dear. + +KAPS. You here again? What do you want? + +SAART. I want you--Jesus! What a cold wind! May I warm my hands +a moment? + +KAPS. Stay on that side of the railing. + +SAART. Sweet beast! You make me tired. Mynheer Bos just went round the +corner. [Warms herself.] No use asking about the Hope. Jesus! Seven +families. How lucky that outside of the children there were three +unmarried men on board. Nothing washed ashore anywhere? + +KAPS. No, no! + +SAART. Now, don't eat me up. + +KAPS. I wish you'd stay behind the railing. What do you want? + +SAART. [Looking in his pocket.] Look out! Or you'll break Meneer's +cigars. Old thief! [He smiles.] Kaps, do you want to make a guilder? + +KAPS. That depends. + +SAART. I'm engaged to Bol, the skipper. + +KAPS. I congratulate you! + +SAART. He's lying here, with a load of peat for the city. Now, how +can I marry him? + +KAPS. How can you? + +SAART. I can't; because they don't know if my husband's dead. + +KAPS. The legal limit is---- + +SAART. I know that much myself. + +KAPS. You must summons him, 'pro Deo,' three times in the papers and +if he doesn't come then, and that he'll not do, for there aren't any +more ghosts in the world, then you can---- + +SAART. Now, if you'd attend to this little matter, Bol and I would +always be grateful to you. + +KAPS. That is lawyer's business. You must go to the city for that. + +SAART. Gracious, what botheration! When your common sense tells you +I haven't seen Jacob in three years and the---- + +[Cobus enters, trembling with agitation.] + +COB. There are tidings! There are tidings! + +KAPS. Tidings? What are you telling us? + +COB. [Almost crying.] There must be tidings of the boys--of--of--the +Hope. + +KAPS. Nothing! [Friendlier.] Now, there is no use in your coming +to this office day after day. I haven't any good news to give you, +the bad you already know. Sixty-two days---- + +COB. The water bailiff received a telegram. Ach, ach, ach; Meneer Kaps, +help us out of this uncertainty. My sister--and my niece--are simply +insane with grief. [Trembling violently.] + +KAPS. On my word of honor. Are you running away again? + +COB. My niece is sitting alone at home--my sister is at the Priest's, +cleaning house. There must be something--there must be something. + +KAPS. Who made you believe that? + +COB. The water bailiff's clerk said--said--Ach, dear God----[Off.] + +SAART. Perhaps he is right. + +KAPS. Everything is possible. + +SAART. Has Meneer Bos any hope? + +KAPS. Hope? Nine weeks! that old ship! after that storm--all things +are possible. No, I wouldn't give a cent for it. Provisions for +six weeks. If they had run into an English harbor, we would have +had tidings. + +CLEMENTINE. [Enters.] Good day, Saart. Are there visitors inside, Kaps? + +KAPS. [Looking through window.] The Burgomaster's carriage. Committee +meeting for the clock. A new span. I wish I had their money. + +CLEMENTINE. [Laying her sketch book on Kaps's desk.] I saw Cobus go +by. Poor thing! How he has aged. I hardly recognized him. [Opening +the sketch book.] Look. That's the way he was three months ago, +hale and jolly. You may look, too, Kaps. + +KAPS. No, Miss, I haven't the time. + +SAART. Daantje's death was a blow to him--you always saw them together, +always discussing. Now he hasn't a friend in the "Home"; that makes +a big difference. + +CLEMENTINE. Do you recognize these? + +SAART. Well, that's Kneir, that's Barend with the basket on his back, +and that's--[The telephone bell rings. Clementine closes her book.] + +KAPS. Meneer is out. They rang once before. + +CLEMENTINE. [Listening at telephone.] Yes!--Papa isn't here. How long +will he be, Kaps? + +KAPS. Two or three minutes. + +CLEMENTINE. [Startled.] What did you say? A hatch marked +47--and--[Trembling.]--I don't understand you. [Screams and lets the +receiver fall.] + +KAPS. What's that? What's that? + +CLEMENTINE. [Painfully shocked.] I don't dare listen--Oh, oh! + +KAPS. Was that the water bailiff? + +CLEMENTINE. [Passionately.] Barend washed ashore. Oh God, now it +is ended! + +SAART. Barend?----Barend?---- + +CLEMENTINE. A telegram from Nieuwediep. A hatch--and a corpse---- + +[Enter Bos.] + +BOS. What's going on here? Why are you crying? + +KAPS. Tidings of the Good Hope. + +BOS. Tidings? + +KAPS. The water bailiff is on the 'phone. + +BOS. The water bailiff?--Step aside--Go along, you! What are you +gaping at? + +SAART. I--I--[Goes timidly off.] + +BOS. [Ringing.] Hello! Who is that? The water bailiff? A +telegram from Nieuwediep? North of the Hook? I don't understand +a word! Stop your howling! a hatch, you say? 47?--Well, +that's damned--miserable--that! the corpse--advanced stage of +decomposition! Barend--mustered in as oldest boy! Recognized by +who? by--oh!--The Expectation has come into Nieuwediep disabled? And +did Skipper Maatsuiker recognize him? Earrings? Yes, yes, silver +earrings. No, never mind that. So it isn't necessary to send any +one from here for the identification? Yes, damned sad--yes--yes--we +are in God's hand--Yes--yes--I no longer had any doubts--thank +you--yes--I'd like to get the official report as soon as possible. I +will inform the underwriters, bejour! [Hangs up the receiver.] I'm +simply dead! twelve men! + +KAPS. Barend? Kneirtje's son? Washed ashore? That's--that's a wonder. I +never expected to hear of the ship again. With the Clementine. + +BOS. [Angrily.] Yes--yes--yes--yes--[To Clementine.] Go inside to +your mother! What stupidity to repeat what you heard in that woman's +presence. It won't be five minutes now till half the village is +here! Don't you understand me? You sit there, God save me, and take +on as if your lover was aboard---- + +CLEMENTINE. Why didn't you listen? [Sobs softly.] + +BOS. Listen! + +CLEMENTINE. When Simon, the shipbuilder's assistant---- + +BOS. The fellow was drunk. + +CLEMENTINE. [Firmly.] He was not! + +BOS. He was, too! And if he hadn't been, what right have you to stick +your nose into matters you don't understand? + +CLEMENTINE. Dear God, now I am also guilty---- + +BOS. [Angrily.] Guilty? Guilty! Have the novels you read gone to +your head? Guilty! Are you possessed, to use those words after such +an accident? + +CLEMENTINE. He said that the ship was a floating coffin. Then I heard +you say that in any case it would be the last voyage for the Hope. + +BOS. [Angrily at first.] That damned boarding school; those damned +boarding school fads! Walk if you like through the village like a fool, +sketching the first rascal or beggar you meet! But don't blab out +things you can be held to account for. A floating coffin! Say, rather, +a drunken authority--The North, of Pieterse, and the Surprise and the +Willem III and the Young John. I can keep on naming them. Half of the +fishing fleet and half the merchant fleet are floating coffins. Did +you hear that, Kaps? + +KAPS. [Timidly.] No, Meneer, I don't hear anything. + +BOS. If you had asked me: "Father, how is this?" I would have explained +it to you. But you conceited young people meddle with everything and +more, too! What stronger proof is there than the yearly inspection of +the ships by the underwriters? Do you suppose that when I presently +ring up the underwriter and say to him, "Meneer, you can plank down +fourteen hundred guilders"--that he does that on loose grounds? You +ought to have a face as red as a buoy in shame for the way you flapped +out your nonsense! Nonsense, I say! Nonsense; that might take away +my good name, if I wasn't so well known. + +CLEMENTINE. [Sadly.] If I were a ship owner--and I heard---- + +BOS. God preserve the fishery from an owner who makes drawings and +cries over pretty vases! I stand as a father at the head of a hundred +homes. Business is business. When you get sensitive you go head over +heels. What, Kaps? [Kaps makes a motion that he cannot hear.] Now, +go to your mother. The Burgomaster's wife is making a call. + +KAPS. Here is the muster roll. [Reading.] Willem Hengst, aged +thirty-seven, married, four children---- + +BOS. Wait a moment till my daughter---- + +CLEMENTINE. I won't speak another word. + +KAPS. [Reading on.] Jacob Zwart, aged thirty-five years, married, +three children. Gerrit Plas, aged twenty-five years, married, one +child. Geert Vermeer, unmarried, aged twenty-six years. Nellis Boom, +aged thirty-five years, married, seven children. Klaas Steen, aged +twenty-four years, married. Solomon Bergen, aged twenty-five years, +married, one child. Mari Stad, aged forty-five years, married. Mees, +aged nineteen years. Jacob Boom, aged twenty years. Barend Vermeer, +aged nineteen years. Pietje Stappers, aged twelve years. + +BOS. [Cast down.] Seven homes. + +CLEMENTINE. Sixteen children. + +[Enter Truus and Marietje.] + +TRUUS. [Panting.] Are there tidings? Tidings of my little son? [Wild +despair.] Ach, God! Ach, God; don't make me unhappy, Meneer!---- + +BOS. I'm sorry, Mrs. Stappers---- + +MARIETJE. [Shrieking.] It can't be! It can't be! You lie!--It isn't +possible!---- + +BOS. [Gently.] The Burgomaster at Nieuwediep has telegraphed the water +bailiff. Barend Vermeer was washed ashore. You know what that means, +and a hatch of the 47---- + +TRUUS. [Loudly.] Oh, Mother Mary, must I lose that child, too? that +lamb of twelve years! [With a whimpering cry.] Oh, oh, oh, oh! Oh, +oh, oh, oh!--Pietje--Pietje---- + +MARIETJE. [Bewildered.] Then--Then--[Bursts into a hysterical +laugh.] Hahaha!--Hahaha!---- + +BOS. Give her a glass of water. + +MARIETJE. [Striking the glass from Clementine's hand.] Go away! Go +away! [Falling on her knees, her hands catching hold of the railing +gate.] Let me die!--Let me die, please, dear God, dear God! + +CLEMENTINE. [Sobbing.] Come Marietje, be calm; get up. + +TRUUS. On his first voyage. And so brave; as he stood there, waving, +when the ship--[Sobs loudly.] + +BOS. It can't be helped, Truus. It is a visitation. There hasn't +been a storm like that in years. Think of Hengst with four children, +and Jacob and Gerrit--And, although it's no consolation, I will hand +you your boy's wages today, if you like. Both of you go home now and +resign yourselves to the inevitable--take her with you--she seems---- + +MARIETJE. [With trembling sobs.] I don't want to go home. I want to +die, die---- + +CLEMENTINE. [Supporting her.] Cry, Marietje, cry, poor lamb---- + +[They go off.] + +BOS. [Angrily walking back and forth.] What's the matter with you? Are +you too lazy to put pen to paper today? You needn't answer! Have you +the Widows' and Orphans' fund at hand? Well! + +KAPS. [Shuffling to the safe.] The top drawer is still locked. [Bos +throws him the keys.] Oh, thank you. [Opens the safe, shuffles back +to Bos's desk with the book.] If you please, Meneer. + +BOS. Ninety-five widows, fourteen old sailors and fishermen. + +KAPS. Yes, the fund fell short some time ago. We will have to put in +another appeal. + +MATHILDE. [Entering.] Clemens, what a misfortune! The Burgomaster's +wife asks if you will come in for a moment. She sits there crying. + +BOS. No! Crying enough here. No time! + +MATHILDE. Ach! Ach! Kaps, here is the copy for the circular. Hurry, +do you hear! + +BOS. Talk to her about making a public appeal for the unfortunates. + +MATHILDE. Yes, but, Clemens, isn't that overdoing it, two begging +parties? + +BOS. I will do it myself, then--[Both exit.] + +CLEMENTINE. [Enters. Softly weeping.] Kaps! Kaps! [Goes to his desk +and sits down opposite to him.] I feel so miserable---- + +KAPS. Very unwise, Miss. Many ships go down. The Good Hope scarcely +counts. I have it here. Where is it? where is it? The statement of +Veritas for October--October alone; lost, 105 sailing vessels and +30 steamships--that's a low estimate; fifteen hundred dead in one +month. [Pointing to the sea.] Yes, when you see it as it appears +today, so smooth, with the floating gulls, you wouldn't believe that +it murders so many people. + +[Enter Jo and Cobus.] + +CLEMENTINE. [To Jo and Cobus, who sit alone in a dazed way.] Come in, +Jo. Jo! [Jo slowly shakes her head.] + +COB. [Trembling.] We have just run from home--for Saart just as I +said--just as I said---- + +[Enter Bos.] + +BOS. [To Jo.] Here, sit down. [Shoves a chair by the stove.] You stay +where you are, Cobus. You have no doubt heard?---- + +JO. [Sobbing.] About Barend? Yes, but Geert! It happens so often that +they get off in row boats. + +BOS. I can't give you that consolation. Not only was there a hatch, +but the corpse was in an extreme state of dissolution. + +JO. [Anxiously.] Yes! Yes! But if it shouldn't be Barend. Who says +it was Barend? + +BOS. Skipper Maatsuiker of the Expectation identified him, and the +earrings. + +JO. Maatsuiker? Maatsuiker? And if--he should be mistaken----I've +come to ask you for money, Meneer, so I can go to the Helder myself. + +BOS. Come, that's foolish! + +JO. [Crying.] Barend must be buried any way. + +BOS. The Burgomaster of Nieuwediep will take care of that---- + +[Enter Simon.] + +SIMON. [Drunk.] I--I--heard----[Makes a strong gesture towards Bos.] + +BOS. [Nervous vehemence.] Get out, you drunken sot! + +SIMON. [Stammering.] I--I--won't murder you. I--I--have no evil +intentions---- + +BOS. [Trembling.] Send for a policeman, Kaps. Must that drunken +fellow---- + +SIMON. [Steadying himself by holding to the gate.] No--stay where +you are--I'm going--I--I--only wanted to say how nicely it came +out--with--with--The Good Hope. + +BOS. You get out, immediately! + +SIMON. Don't come so close to me--never come so close to a man with +a knife----No-o-o-o--I have no bad intentions. I only wanted to say, +that I warned you--when--she lay in the docks. + +BOS. You lie, you rascal! + +SIMON. Now just for the joke of it--you ask--ask--ask your bookkeeper +and your daughter--who were there---- + +BOS. [Vehemently.] That's a lie. You're not worth an answer, you sot! I +have nothing to do with you! My business is with your employer. Did +you understand me, Kaps? + +SIMON. My employer--doesn't do the caulking himself. [To Kaps, who +has advanced to the gate.] Didn't I warn him?--wasn't you there? + +KAPS. [Looking anxiously at Bos.] No, I wasn't there, and even if I +was, I didn't hear anything. + +BOS. [To Clementine.] And now, you! Did that drunken sot---- + +CLEMENTINE. [Almost crying with anxiety.] Papa! + +BOS. [Threatening.] As my daughter do you permit----[Grimly.] Answer +me! + +CLEMENTINE. [Anxiously.] I don't remember---- + +SIMON. That's low--that's low--damned low! I said, the ship was +rotten--rotten---- + +BOS. A drunken man's stories. You're trying to drag in my bookkeeper +and daughter, and you hear---- + +COB. Yes, but--yes, but--now I remember also---- + +BOS. By thunder! you warned us too, eh? + +COB. No, no, that would be lying. But your daughter--your daughter +says now that she hadn't heard the ship was rotten. And on the second +night of the storm, when she was alone with me at my sister Kneirtje's, +she did say that--that---- + +CLEMENTINE. [Trembling.] Did I--say---- + +COB. Yes, that you did! That very evening. These are my own words +to you: "Now you are fibbing, Miss; for if your father knew the Good +Hope was rotten"---- + +JO. [Springing up wildly, speaking with piercing distinctness.] You, +you lie! You began to cry. You were afraid ships would be lost. I +was there, and Truus was there, and----Oh, you adders! + +BOS. [Banging his desk with his fist.] Adders? Adders? You scum! Who +gives you your feed, year in, year out? Haven't you decency enough to +believe us instead of that drunken beggar who reels as he stands there? + +JO. [Raving with anger.] Believe you? You! She lies and you lie! + +BOS. [Threatening.] Get out of my office! + +JO. You had Barend dragged on board by the police; Geert was too +proud to be taken! Thief! thief! [Overwrought, hysterical laugh.] No, +no, you needn't point to your door! We are going. If I staid here +any longer I would spit in your face--spit in your face! [Makes +threatening gesture.] + +COB. [Restraining her.] Come--come---- + +BOS. [After a silence.] For your Aunt's sake I will consider that you +are overwrought; otherwise--otherwise----The Good Hope was seaworthy, +was seaworthy! Have I no loss? Even if the ship was insured? And even +had the fellow warned me--which is a lie, could I, a business man, +take the word of a drunkard who can no longer get a job because he +is unable to handle tools? + +SIMON. [Stammering.] I--I told you and him and her--that a floating +coffin like that. That stands fast! + +JO. [Bursting out.] Oh! oh! Geert and Barend and Mees and the +others! Oh God, how could you allow it! [Sinks on the chair +sobbing.] Give me the money to go to Nieuwediep myself, then I won't +speak of it any more. + +BOS. [Vindictively.] No! Not a red cent! A girl that talks to me as +rudely as you did---- + +JO. [Confused, crying.] I don't know what I said--and--and--I don't +believe that you--that you--that you would be worse than the devil. + +BOS. The water-bailiff says that it isn't necessary to send any one +to Nieuwediep. + +JO. [Staggering to the door.] Not necessary! Not necessary! What will +become of me now?---- + +[Cobus and Simon follow her out.] + +[Bos walks back and forth. Kaps creeps up on his stool.] + +BOS. [To Clementine.] And you--don't you ever dare to set foot again +in my office. + +CLEMENTINE. [With a terrified look.] No, never again. [A long +pause.] Father, I ask myself [Bursts into sobs.] how I can ever again +respect you? Ever again respect myself? [Exits.] + +BOS. Crazy! She would be capable of ruining my good name--with +her boarding-school whims. Who ever comes now you send away, +understand? Trash! Rabble! That whole set are no good! That damned +drunkard! That fellow that stinks of gin! [Sound of Jelle's fiddle +outside.] That too? [At the window.] Go on! No, not a cent! [The +music stops.] I am simply worn out. [Falls into his chair, takes +up Clementine's sketch book; spitefully turns the leaves; throws +it on the floor; stoops, jerks out a couple of leaves, tears them +up. Sits in thought a moment, then rings the telephone.] Hello! with +Dirksen--Dirksen, I say, the underwriter! [Waits, looking +sombre.] Hello! Are you there, Dirksen? It's all up with the +Good Hope. A hatch with my mark washed ashore and the body of a +sailor. [Changing to quarrelsome tone.] What do you say? I should +say not! No question of it! Sixty-two days! The probabilities are too +small. [Calmer.] Good! I shall wait for you here at my office. But be +quick about it! Yes, fourteen hundred guilders. Bejour. [Rings off; +at the last words Kneirtje has entered.] + +KNEIRTJE. [Absently.] I----[She sinks on the bench, patiently weeping.] + +BOS. [At the safe, without seeing her.] Have you mislaid the +policies? You never put a damn thing in its place. + +KAPS. [Pointing from his stool.] The policies are higher, behind +the stocks. + +BOS. [Snappishly.] All right, shut your mouth, now! [Turning around +with the policies in his hand.] Why don't you knock? + +KNEIRTJE. I wanted to---- + +BOS. [Peevishly.] You've come five minutes too late. That hussy that +lives with you has been in here kicking up such a scandal that I came +near telephoning for the police. [Crossly.] Come in. Close the gate +after you. + +KNEIRTJE. [Speaking with difficulty.] Is it true--is it true +that----The priest said----[Bos nods with a sombre expression.] Oh, +oh----[She stares helplessly, her arms hang limp.] + +BOS. I have sympathy for you. I know you as a respectable woman--and +your husband too. But your children! I'm sorry to have to say it to you +now after such a blow, your children and that niece of yours have never +been any good. [Kneirtje's head sinks down.] How many years haven't +we had you around, until your son Geert threatened me with his fists, +mocked my grey hairs, and all but threw me out of your house--and your +other son----[Frightened.] Kneirtje! Kneirtje! [Rising.] Kaps! Water! +[Bathing her forehead and wrists.] I'll be damned! I'll be damned! + +KAPS. Shall I call Mevrouw or your daughter? + +BOS. No! Stay here! she's coming to. [Kneir. with long drawn out sobs, +sits looking before her with a dazed stare.] + +KAPS. Kneir---- + +BOS. Keep still! Let her have her cry. + +KNEIRTJE. [In an agonized voice, broken with sobs.] He didn't want +to go! He didn't want to go! And with my own hands I loosened his +fingers from the door post. [Moans softly.] + +BOS. [In a muffled voice.] You have no cause to reproach yourself---- + +KNEIRTJE. [In the same voice as before.] Before he went I hung his +father's rings in his ears. Like--like a lamb to the slaughter---- + +BOS. Come---- + +KNEIRTJE. [Panting.] And my oldest boy that I didn't bid good +bye----"If you're too late"--these were his words--"I'll never look +at you again."--"Never look at you again!" + +BOS. [Strongly moved.] Stop! in God's name, stop!---- + +KNEIRTJE. Twelve years ago--when the Clementine--I sat here as I am +now. [Sobs with her face between her trembling old hands.] + +BOS. Come now, be strong. + +[Mathilde enters.] + +MATHILDE. Clemens! Ach, poor, dear Kneir, I am so sorry for you. It's +dreadful! It is frightful! Two sons! + +KNEIRTJE. [Staring.] My husband and four sons---- + +MATHILDE. [Consoling.] But don't you worry. We have written an +appeal, the Burgomaster's wife and I, and it's going to be in all +the papers tomorrow. Here, Kaps----[Hands Kaps a sheet of paper which +he places on desk--Bos motions to her to go.] Let her wait a while, +Clemens. [Sweetly.] I have a couple of cold chops--that will brace +her up--and--and--let's make up with her. You have no objections +to her coming again to do the cleaning? We won't forget you, do you +hear? Good day, Kneir. Be brave. [Exits.] + +BOS. No, we will not forget you. + +KNEIRTJE. Now, my only hope is--my niece's child. + +BOS. [Surprised.] A child? + +KNEIRTJE. That misfortune is added. She is with child by my +son----[Softly smiling.] Misfortune? No, that isn't a misfortune +now---- + +BOS. And you sit and tell that? This immorality under your own +roof? Don't you know the rules of the fund, that no aid can be +extended to anyone leading an immoral life, or whose conduct does +not meet with our approval? + +KNEIRTJE. [Submissive voice.] I leave it to the gentlemen +themselves--to do for me--the gentlemen---- + +BOS. It will be a tussle with the Committee--the committee of the +fund--your son had been in prison and sang revolutionary songs. And +your niece who----However, I will do my best. I shall recommend +you, but I can't promise anything. There are seven new families, +awaiting aid, sixteen new orphans. [Rising and closing the safe.] No, +sit awhile longer. My wife wants to give you something to take home +with you. [Exits.] + +MATHILDE. [Invisible.] Kaps! Kaps! [The bookkeeper rises, disappears +for a moment, and returns with a dish and an enamelled pan.] + +KAPS. [Kindly.] If you will return the dish when it's convenient, +and if you'll come again Saturday, to do the cleaning. [She stares +vacantly. He closes her nerveless hands about the dish and pan; +shuffles back to his stool. A silence. Kneirtje sits motionless, +in dazed agony; mumbles--moves her lips--rises with difficulty, +stumbles out of the office.] + +KAPS. [Taking up sheet of paper from desk.] Appeal, for the +newspapers! [Smiling sardonically, he comes to the foreground; leaning +on Bos's desk, he reads.] "Benevolent Fellow Countrymen: Again we +urge upon your generosity an appeal in behalf of a number of destitute +widows and orphans. The lugger Good Hope----[As he continues reading.] + + + CURTAIN. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Good Hope, by Herman Heijermans, Jr. + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58473 *** |