The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann, Volume II
by Gerhart Hauptmann · English · Gutenberg #9972 · 512,479 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann, Volume II
Author: Gerhart Hauptmann
Editor: Ludwig Lewisohn
Release date: February 1, 2006 [eBook #9972]
Most recently updated: December 27, 2020
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/9972
Credits: Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Thomas Berger and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DRAMATIC WORKS OF GERHART HAUPTMANN, VOLUME II ***
Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Keren Vergon, Thomas Berger
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
THE DRAMATIC WORKS
OF
GERHART HAUPTMANN
(Authorized Edition)
Edited By LUDWIG LEWISOHN
Assistant Professor in The Ohio State University
VOLUME TWO: SOCIAL DRAMAS
1913
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
_By the Editor_.
DRAYMAN HENSCHEL (Fuhrmann Henschel)
_Translated by the Editor_.
ROSE BERND (Rose Bernd)
_Translated by the Editor_.
THE RATS (Die Ratten)
_Translated by the Editor_.
INTRODUCTION
The first volume of the present edition of Hauptmann's Dramatic Works is
identical in content with the corresponding volume of the German edition.
In the second volume _The Rats_ has been substituted for two early prose
tales which lie outside of the scope of our undertaking. Hence these two
volumes include that entire group of dramas which Hauptmann himself
specifically calls social. This term must not, of course, be pressed too
rigidly. Only in _Before Dawn_ and in _The Weavers_ can the dramatic
situation be said to arise wholly from social conditions rather than from
the fate of the individual. It is true, however, that in the seven plays
thus far presented all characters are viewed primarily as, in a large
measure, the results of their social environment. This environment is, in
all cases, proportionately stressed. To exhibit it fully Hauptmann uses,
beyond any other dramatist, passages which, though always dramatic in
form, are narrative and, above all, descriptive in intention. The silent
burden of these plays, the ceaseless implication of their fables, is the
injustice and inhumanity of the social order.
Hauptmann, however, has very little of the narrow and acrid temper of the
special pleader. He is content to show humanity. It is quite conceivable
that the future, forgetful of the special social problems and the
humanitarian cult of to-day, may view these plays as simply bodying forth
the passions and events that are timeless and constant in the inevitable
march of human life. The tragedies of _Drayman Henschel_ and of _Rose
Bernd_, at all events, stand in no need of the label of any decade. They
move us by their breadth and energy and fundamental tenderness.
No plays of Hauptmann produce more surely the impression of having been
dipped from the fullness of life. One does not feel that these men and
women--Hanne Schäl and Siebenhaar, old Bernd and the Flamms--are called
into a brief existence as foils or props of the protagonists. They led
their lives before the plays began: they continue to live in the
imagination long after Henschel and Rose have succumbed. How does
Christopher Flamm, that excellent fellow and most breathing picture of
the average man, adjust his affairs? He is fine enough to be permanently
stirred by the tragedy he has earned, yet coarse enough to fall back into
a merely sensuous life of meaningless pleasures. But at his side sits
that exquisite monitor--his wife. The stream of their lives must flow on.
And one asks how and whither? To apply such almost inevitable questions
to Hauptmann's characters is to be struck at once by the exactness and
largeness of his vision of men. Few other dramatists impress one with an
equal sense of life's fullness and continuity,
"The flowing, flowing, flowing of the world."
The last play in this volume, _The Rats_, appeared in 1911, thirteen
years after _Drayman Henschel_, nine years after _Rose Bernd_. A first
reading of the book is apt to provoke disappointment and confusion. Upon
a closer view, however, the play is seen to be both powerful in itself
and important as a document in criticism and _Kulturgeschichte_. It
stands alone among Hauptmann's works in its inclusion of two separate
actions or plots--the tragedy of Mrs. John and the comedy of the
Hassenreuter group. Nor can the actions be said to be firmly interwoven:
they appear, at first sight, merely juxtaposed. Hauptmann would
undoubtedly assert that, in modern society, the various social classes
live in just such juxtaposition and have contacts of just the kind here
chronicled. His real purpose in combining the two fables is more
significant. Following the great example, though not the precise method,
of Molière, who produced _La Critique de l'École des Femmes_ on the
boards of his theater five months after the hostile reception of _L'École
des Femmes_, Hauptmann gives us a naturalistic tragedy and, at the same
time, its criticism and defense. His tenacity to the ideals of his youth
is impressively illustrated here. In his own work he has created a new
idealism. But let it not be thought that his understanding of tragedy and
his sense of human values have changed. The charwoman may, in very truth,
be a Muse of tragedy, all grief is of an equal sacredness, and even the
incomparable Hassenreuter--wind-bag, chauvinist and consistent
_Goetheaner_--is forced by the essential soundness of his heart to blurt
out an admission of the basic principle of naturalistic dramaturgy.
The group of characters in _The Rats_ is unusually large and varied. The
phantastic note is somewhat strained perhaps in Quaquaro and Mrs. Knobbe.
But the convincingness and earth-rooted humanity of the others is once
more beyond cavil or dispute. The Hassenreuter family, Alice Rütterbusch,
the Spittas, Paul John and Bruno Mechelke, Mrs. Kielbacke and even the
policeman Schierke--all are superbly alive, vigorous and racy in speech
and action.
The language of the plays in this volume is again almost wholly
dialectic. The linguistic difficulties are especially great in _The Rats_
where the members of the Berlin populace speak an extraordinarily
degraded jargon. In the translation I have sought, so far as possible, to
differentiate the savour and quaintness of the Silesian dialect from the
coarseness of that of Berlin. But all such attempts must, from their very
nature, achieve only a partial success. The succeeding volumes of this
edition, presenting the plays written in normal literary German, will
offer a fairer if not more fascinating field of interpretation.
LUDWIG LEWISOHN.
DRAYMAN HENSCHEL
_LIST OF PERSONS_
DRAYMAN HENSCHEL.
MRS. HENSCHEL.
HANNE SCHÄL (_later MRS. HENSCHEL_).
BERTHA.
HORSE DEALER WALTHER.
SIEBENHAAR.
KARLCHEN.
WERMELSKIRCH.
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH.
FRANZISKA WERMELSKIRCH.
HAUFFE.
FRANZ.
GEORGE.
FABIG.
HILDEBRANT.
VETERINARIAN GRUNERT.
FIREMAN.
Time: Toward the end of the eighteen sixties.
Scene: The "Gray Swan" hotel in a Silesian watering place.
THE FIRST ACT
_A room, furnished peasant fashion, in the basement of the "Grey
Swan" hotel. Through two windows set high in the left wall, the
gloomy light of a late winter afternoon sickers in. Under the windows
there stands a bed of soft wood, varnished yellow, in which MRS.
HENSCHEL is lying ill. She is about thirty-six years of age. Near the
bed her little six-months-old daughter lies in her cradle. A second
bed stands against the back wall which, like the other walls, is
painted blue with a dark, plain border near the ceiling. In front,
toward the right, stands a great tile-oven surrounded by a bench. A
plentiful supply of small split kindling wood is piled up in the
roomy bin. The wall to the right has a door leading to a smaller
room. HANNE SCHÄL, a vigorous, young maid servant is very busy in the
room. She has put her wooden pattens aside and walks about in her
thick, blue stockings. She takes from the oven an iron pot in which
food is cooking and puts it back again. Cooking spoons, a twirling
stick and a strainer lie on the bench; also a large, thick
earthenware jug with a thin, firmly corked neck. Beneath the bench
stands the water pitcher. HANNE'S skirts are gathered up in a thick
pad; her bodice is dark grey; her muscular arms are bare. Around the
top of the oven is fastened a square wooden rod, on which long
hunting stockings are hung up to dry, as well as swaddling clothes,
leathern breeches and a pair of tall, water-tight boots. To the right
of the oven stand a clothes press and a chest of drawers--old
fashioned, gaily coloured, Silesian pieces of furniture. Through the
open door in the rear wall one looks out upon a dark, broad,
underground corridor which ends in a glass door with manicoloured
panes. Behind this door wooden steps lead upward. These stairs are
always illuminated by a jet of gas so that the panes of the door
shine brightly. It is in the middle of February; the weather without
is stormy._
_FRANZ, a young fellow in sober coachman's livery, ready to drive
out, looks in._
FRANZ
Hanne!
HANNE
Eh?
FRANZ
Is the missis asleep?
HANNE
What d'you suppose? Don't make so much noise!
FRANZ
There's doors enough slammin' in this house. If that don't wake her up--!
I'm goin' to drive the carriage to Waldenburg.
HANNE
Who's goin'?
FRANZ
The madam. She's goin' to buy birthday presents.
HANNE
Whose birthday is it?
FRANZ
Little Karl's.
HANNE
Great goin's on--those. To hitch up the horses on account o' that fool of
a kid an' travel to Waldenburg in such weather!
FRANZ
Well, I has my fur coat!
HANNE
Those people don't know no more how to get rid o' their money! We got to
slave instead!
_In the passage appears, slowly feeling his may, the veterinarian
GRUNERT. He is a small man in a coat of black sheep's fur, cap and
tall boots. He taps with the handle of his whip against the door post
in order to call attention to his presence._
GRUNERT
Isn't Henschel at home yet?
HANNE
What's wanted of him?
GRUNERT
I've come to look at the gelding.
HANNE
So you're the doctor from Freiburg, eh? Henschel, he's not at home. He
went to Freiburg carryin' freight; seems to me you must ha' met him.
GRUNERT
In which stall do you keep the gelding?
HANNE
'Tis the chestnut horse with the white star on his face, I believe they
put him in the spare stall. [_To FRANZ._] You might go along an' show him
the way.
FRANZ
Just go straight across the yard, 's far as you can, under the big hall,
right into the coachman's room. Then you c'n ask Frederic; he'll tell
you!
[_Exit GRUNERT._
HANNE
Well, go along with him.
FRANZ
Haven't you got a few pennies change for me?
HANNE
I s'pose you want me to sell my skin on your account?
FRANZ
[_Tickling her._] I'd buy it right off.
HANNE
Franz! Don't you--! D'you want the woman to wake up? You don't feel reel
well, do you, if you can't wring a few farthings out o' me! I'm fair
cleaned out. [_Rummaging for the money._] Here! [_She presses something
into his hand._] Now get out!
[_The bell rings._
FRANZ
[_Frightened._] That's the master. Good-bye.
[_He goes hastily._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Has waked up and says weakly._] Girl! Girl! Don't you hear nothin'?
HANNE
[_Roughly._] What d'you want?
MRS. HENSCHEL
I want you to listen when a body calls you!
HANNE
I hear all right! But if you don't talk louder I can't hear. I got only
just two ears.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Are you goin' to cut up rough again?
HANNE
[_Surly._] Ah, what do I--!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Is that right, eh? Is it right o' you to talk rough like that to a sick
woman?
HANNE
Who starts it, I'd like to know! You don't hardly wake up but what you
begin to torment me. Nothin's done right, no matter how you do it!
MRS. HENSCHEL
That's because you don't mind me!
HANNE
You better be doin' your work yourself. I slaves away all day an' half o'
the night! But if things is that way--I'd rather go about my business!
[_She lets her skirts fall and runs out._
MRS. HENSCHEL
Girl! Girl!--Don't do that to me! What is it I said that was so bad? O
Lord, O Lord! What'll happen when the men folks comes home? They wants to
eat! No, girl ... girl!
[_She sinks back exhausted, moans softly, and begins to rock her
baby's cradle by means of a cord which is within her reach._
_Through the glass door in the rear KARLCHEN squeezes himself in with
some difficulty. He carries a dish full of soup and moves carefully
and timidly toward MRS. HENSCHEL'S bed. There he sets down the dish
on a wooden chair._
MRS. HENSCHEL
Eh, Karlchen, is that you! Do tell me what you're bringin' me there?
KARLCHEN
Soup! Mother sends her regards and hopes you'll soon feel better and that
you'll like the soup, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Eh, little lad, you're the best of 'em all. Chicken soup! 'Tis not
possible. Well, tell your mother I thank her most kindly. D'you hear?
Don't go an' forget that! Now I'll tell you somethin', Karlchen! You c'n
do me a favour, will you? See that rag over there? Get on this bench,
will you, an' pull the pot out a bit. The girl's gone off an' she put it
too far in.
KARLCHEN
[_After he has found the rag mounts the bench cheerfully and looks into
the oven. He asks:_] The black pot or the blue one, Mrs. Henschel?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What's in the blue pot?
KARLCHEN
Sauerkraut.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Agitated._] Pull it out! That'll be boilin' to nothin'!--Eh, what a
girl, what a girl!
KARLCHEN
[_Has pulled the pot in question forward._] Is this right?
MRS. HENSCHEL
You c'n let it stand that way! Come here a bit now an' I'll give you a
piece o' whip cord. [_She takes the cord from the window-sill and gives
it to him._] An' how is your mother?
KARLCHEN
She's well. She's gone to Waldenburg to buy things for my birthday.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I'm not well, myself. I think I'm goin' to die!
KARLCHEN
Oh, no, Mrs. Henschel!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Yes, yes, you c'n believe me; I'm goin' to die. For all I care you can
say so to your mother.
KARLCHEN
I'm goin' to get a Bashly cap, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Yes, yes, you c'n believe me. Come over here a bit. Keep reel still an'
listen. D'you hear how it ticks? D'you hear how it ticks in the rotten
wood?
KARLCHEN
[_Whose wrist she holds in her fevered grasp._] I'm afraid, Mrs.
Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, never mind. We all has to die! D'you hear how it ticks? Do you? What
is that? 'Tis the deathwatch that ticks. [_She falls back._] One ... two
... one ...--Oh, what a girl, what a girl!
_KARLCHEN, released from her grasp, withdraws timidly toward the
door. When his hand is on the knob of the glass door a sudden terror
overtakes him. He tears the door open and slams it behind him with
such force that the panes rattle. Immediately thereupon a vigorous
cracking of whips is heard without. Hearing this noise MRS. HENSCHEL
starts up violently._
MRS. HENSCHEL
That's father comin'!
HENSCHEL
[_Out in the hallway and yet unseen._] Doctor, what are we goin' to do
with the beast?
[_He and the veterinarian are visible through the doorway._
GRUNERT
He won't let you come near him. We'll have to put the twitch on him, I
think.
HENSCHEL
[_He is a man of athletic build, about forty-five years old. He wears a
fur cap, a jacket of sheep's fur under which his blue carter's blouse is
visible, tall boots, green hunting stockings. He carries a whip and a
burning lantern._] I don't know no more what's wrong with that beast. I
carted some hard coal from the mine yesterday. I came home an' unhitched,
an' put the horses in the stable, an'--that very minute--the beast throws
hisself down an' begins to kick.
[_He puts his long whip in a corner and hangs up his cap._
_HANNE returns and takes up her work again, although visibly
enraged._
HENSCHEL
Girl, get a light!
HANNE
One thing after another!
HENSCHEL
[_Puts out the light in the lantern and hangs it up._] Heaven only knows
what all this is comin' to. First my wife gets sick! Then this here horse
drops down! It looks as if somethin' or somebody had it in for me! I
bought that gelding Christmas time from Walther. Two weeks after an' the
beast's lame. I'll show him. Two hundred crowns I paid.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Is it rainin' outside?
HENSCHEL
[_In passing._] Yes, yes, mother; it's rainin'.--An' it's a man's own
brother-in-law that takes him in that way.
[_He sits down on the bench._
_HANNE has lit a tallow candle and puts it into a candle stick of
tin, which she sets on the table._
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're too good, father. That's what it is. You don't think no evil o'
people.
GRUNERT
[_Sitting down at the table and writing a prescription._] I'll write down
something for you to get from the chemist.
MRS. HENSCHEL
No, I tell you, if that chestnut dies on top o' everythin' else--! I
don't believe God's meanin' to let that happen!
HENSCHEL
[_Holding out his leg to HANNE._] Come, pull off my boots for me! That
was a wind that blew down here on the road from Freiburg. People tell me
it unroofed the church in the lower village more'n half, [_To HANNE._]
Just keep on tuggin'! Can't you get it?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_To HANNE._] I don't know! You don't seem to learn nothin'!
[_HANNE succeeds in pulling off one boot. She puts it aside and
starts on the other._
HENSCHEL
Keep still, mother! You don't do it any better!
HANNE
[_Pulls off the second boot and puts it aside. Then in a surly voice to
HENSCHEL._] Did you bring me my apron from Kramsta?
HENSCHEL
All the things I'm axed to keep in my head! I'm content if I c'n keep my
own bit of business straight an' get my boxes safe to the railroad. What
do I care about women or their apron-strings?
GRUNERT
No, you're not famous for caring about them.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' it'd be a bad thing if he was!
HENSCHEL
[_Slips on wooden pattens and rises. To HANNE._] Hurry now! Hurry! We got
to get our dinner. This very day we still has to go down to the smithy.
GRUNERT
[_Has finished writing his prescription, which he leaves lying on the
table. He slips his note book and pencil back into his pocket and says as
he is about to go:_] You'll hurry this to the chemist's. I'll look in
early in the morning.
[_HENSCHEL sits down at the table._
_HAUFFE comes in slowly. He has wooden pattens on and leathern
breeches and also carries a lighted lantern._
HAUFFE
That's dirty weather for you again!
HENSCHEL
How's it goin' in the stable?
HAUFFE
He's goin' to end by knockin' down the whole stall.
[_He blows out the light in the lantern and hangs it up next to
HENSCHEL'S._
GRUNERT
Good night to all of you. All we can do is to wait. We doctors are only
human too.
HENSCHEL
To be sure. We know that without your telling us! Good night; I hope you
won't overturn. [_GRUNERT goes._] Now tell me, mother, how is it with
you?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh. I've been worritin' so much again!
HENSCHEL
What is it that worries you?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Because for all I c'n do, I'm not able to lend a hand even.
_HANNE places a disk of dumplings and one of sauerkraut on the table;
she takes forks from the table drawer and puts them on the table._
HENSCHEL
The girl's here to do the work!
MRS. HENSCHEL
A girl like her is that thoughtless!
HENSCHEL
Oh, we gets enough to eat an' everythin' seems to go smoothly.--If you
hadn't got up out o' bed too soon the first time, you might be dancin'
this day!
MRS. HENSCHEL
O Lord, me an' dancin'. What an idea!
_HANNE has prepared three plates, putting a small piece of pork on
each. She now draws up a stool for herself and sits down at the
table._
HAUFFE
There's not much left o' the oats, neither.
HENSCHEL
I bought some yesterday; thirty sacks. Saturday a load o' hay'll come
too. The feed gets dearer all the time.
HAUFFE
If the beasts is to work they has to eat.
HENSCHEL
But people thinks they live on air, an' so everybody wants to cut down
the carting charges.
HAUFFE
He said somethin' like that to me too.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who said that--the inspector?
HENSCHEL
Who else but him? But this time he met the wrong man.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, well, I'm not sayin', but that's the end of everythin'! What's to
become of us these hard times?
HANNE
The inspector of roads was here. He wants you to send him teams for the
big steam roller, I believe. They're in Hinterhartau now.
_Behind the glass door MR. SIEBENHAAR is seen descending the stairs.
He is little over forty. Most carefully dressed; black broadcloth
coat, white waist-coat, light-coloured, English trousers--an elegance
of attire derived from the style of the 'sixties. His hair, already
grey, leaves the top of his head bald; his moustache, on the
contrary, is thick and dark blond. SIEBENHAAR wears gold-rimmed
spectacles. When he desires to see anything with exactness, he must
use, in addition, a pair of eye-glasses which he slips in behind the
lenses of his spectacles. He represents an intelligent type._
SIEBENHAAR
[_Approaches the open door of the room. In his right hand he holds a
candle-stick of tin with an unlit candle in it and a bunch of keys; with
his left hand he shades his sensitive eyes._] Has Henschel come back yet?
HENSCHEL
Yes, Mr. Siebenhaar.
SIEBENHAAR
But you're just at your dinner. I have something to do in the cellar. We
can talk that matter over later.
HENSCHEL
No, no; you needn't put nothin' off on my account. I'm through!
SIEBENHAAR
In that case you'd better come up to see me. [_He enters the room and
lights his candle by the one which is burning on the table._] I'll only
get a light here now. We're more undisturbed in my office.--How are you,
Mrs. Henschel? How did you like the chicken-soup?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, goodness, gracious! I clean forgot about it!
SIEBENHAAR
Is that so, indeed?
HANNE
[_Discovering the dish of chicken soup._] That's true; there it stands.
HENSCHEL
That's the way that woman is! She'd like to get well an' she forgets to
eat and to drink.
SIEBENHAAR
[_As a violent gust of wind is felt even indoors._] Do tell me: what do
you think of it? My wife's driven over to Waldenburg, and the weather is
getting wilder and wilder. I'm really beginning to get worried. What's
your opinion?
HENSCHEL
I s'pose it sounds worse than it is.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, well, one shouldn't take such risks. Didn't you hear that rattling?
The wind broke one of the large windows in the dining-hall looking out
over the verandah. You know. It's a tremendous storm!
HENSCHEL
Who'd ha' thought it!
MRS. HENSCHEL
That'll be costin' you a good bit again!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Leaving the room by way of the passage to the left._] There's nothing
inexpensive except death.
HENSCHEL
He's got his bunch o' troubles like the rest of us.
MRS. HENSCHEL
What do you think he wants o' you again, father?
HENSCHEL
Nothin'! How c'n I tell? I'll hear what he says.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I do hope he won't be askin' for money again.
HENSCHEL
Don't begin talkin' nonsense, mother.
HANNE
But if them people is as hard up as all that, why does the woman has to
have a twenty shillin' hat?
HENSCHEL
You hold your tongue! No one asked you! You poke your nose over your
kneadin' board an' not into other folks' affairs! It takes somethin' to
keep a hotel like this goin'. Two months in the year he makes money. The
rest o' the time he has to do the best he can.
HAUFFE
An' he had to go an' build atop o' that!
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' 'twas that as got him in worse'n ever. He should ha' let it be.
HENSCHEL
Women don't understand nothin' o' such affairs. He had to build; he
couldn't do no different. We gets more an' more people who come here for
their health nowadays; there wasn't half so many formerly. But in those
times they had money; now they wants everythin' for nothin'. Get the
bottle. I'd like to drink a nip o' whiskey.
HAUFFE
[_Slowly clasping his knife and getting ready to rise._] Forty rooms,
three big halls, an' nothin' in 'em excep' rats an' mice. How's he goin'
to raise the interest?
[_He rises._
_FRANZISKA WERMELSKIRCH peeps in. She is a pretty, lively girl of
sixteen. She wears her long, dark hair open. Her costume is slightly
eccentric: the skirts white and short, the bodice cut in triangular
shape at the neck, the sash long and gay. Her arms are bare above the
elbows. Around her neck she wears a coloured ribbon from which a
crucifix hangs down._
FRANZISKA
[_Very vivaciously._] Wasn't Mr. Siebenhaar here just now? I wish you a
pleasant meal, ladies and gentlemen! I merely took the liberty of asking
whether Mr. Siebenhaar hadn't been here just now?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Gruffly._] We don't know nothin'. He wasn't with us!
FRANZISKA
No? I thought he was!
[_She puts her foot coquettishly on the bench and ties her shoe
strings._
MRS. HENSCHEL
Mr. Siebenhaar here an' Mr. Siebenhaar there! What are you always wantin'
of the man?
FRANZISKA
I? nothing! But he's so fond of gooseliver. Mama happens to have some and
so papa sent me to tell him so.--By the way, Mr. Henschel, do you know
that you might drop in to see us again, too!
MRS. HENSCHEL
You just let father bide where he is! That'd be a fine way! He's not
thinkin' about runnin' into taverns these days.
FRANZISKA
We're broaching a new keg to-day, though.
HENSCHEL
[_While HAUFFE grins and HANNE laughs._] Mother, you stick to your own
affairs. If I should want to go an' drink a glass o' beer I wouldn't be
askin' nobody's consent, you c'n be sure.
FRANZISKA
--How are you anyhow, Mrs. Henschel?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, to-morrow I'll be gettin' me a sash too an' take to rope-dancin'.
FRANZISKA
I'll join you. I can do that splendidly. I always practice on the
carriage shafts.
HENSCHEL
So that's the reason why all the shafts are bent!
FRANZISKA
Do you see, this is the way it's done; this is the way to balance
oneself. [_Imitating the movements of a tight rope dancer, she prances
out by the door._] Right leg! Left leg! _Au revoir!_
[_Exit._
HAUFFE
[_Taking down his lantern._] She'll go off her head pretty soon if she
don't get no husband.
[_Exit._
MRS. HENSCHEL
If she had to lend a hand an' work good an' hard, she'd get over that
foolishness.
HANNE
She's not allowed to come upstairs. Mrs. Siebenhaar won't have her.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' she's right there. I wouldn't bear it neither.
HANNE
She's always chasin' an' sniffin' around Mr. Siebenhaar. I'm willin'
people should please theirselves. But she's goin' it hard.
MRS. HENSCHEL
The Siebenhaars ought to put them people out. The goin's on with the men
an' the wenches.
HENSCHEL
Aw, what are you talkin' about, mother?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, in the tap room.
HENSCHEL
Well, they has to live same as anybody. D'you want to see 'em put in the
streets? Wermelskirch's not a bad fellow at all.
MRS. HENSCHEL
But the woman's an old witch.
HENSCHEL
If he pays his rent nothin' won't happen to him on that account. An' not
on account o' the girl by a long way. [_He has arisen and bends over the
cradle._] We've got a little thing like that here too, an' nobody's goin'
to put us out for that!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Eh, that would be ...! She's asleep all the time; she don't seem to want
to wake up!
HENSCHEL
There's not much strength in her.--Mother, sure you're not goin' to
die!--[_Taking his cap from the nail._] Hanne, I was just foolin' you a
while ago. Your apron is lyin' out there in the waggon.
HANNE
[_Eagerly._] Where is it?
HENSCHEL
In the basket. Go an' look for it!
[_HENSCHEL leaves by way of the middle door; HANNE disappears into
the small adjacent room._
MRS. HENSCHEL
So he brought her the apron after all!
_HANNE runs quickly through the room again and goes out by the middle
door._
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' he brought her the apron after all!
_SIEBENHAAR enters carefully, carrying his candle and keys as before
and, in addition, two bottles of claret._
SIEBENHAAR
All alone, Mrs. Henschel?
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' he brought the apron ...
SIEBENHAAR
It's me, Mrs. Henschel. Did you think it was a stranger?
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don't hardly believe ...
SIEBENHAAR
I hope I didn't wake you up. It's me--Siebenhaar.
MRS. HENSCHEL
To be sure. Yes. To be sure.
SIEBENHAAR
And I'm bringing you a little wine which you are to drink. It will do you
good.--Is it possible you don't recognize me?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, now, that'd be queer. You are, sure--you are our Mr. Siebenhaar.
Things hasn't come to such a pass with me yet. I recognise you all
right!--I don't know: has I been dreamin' or what?
SIEBENHAAR
You may have been. How are you otherwise?
MRS. HENSCHEL
But sure enough you're Siebenhaar.
SIEBENHAAR
Perhaps you thought I was your husband!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don't know ... I reely can't say ... I was feelin' so queer ...
SIEBENHAAR
Seems to me you're not lying comfortably. Let me straighten your pillows
a bit. Does the doctor see you regularly?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_With tearful excitement._] I don't know how it is--they just leaves me
alone. No, no, you're Mr. Siebenhaar, I know that. An' I know more'n
that: you was always good to me an' you has a good heart, even if
sometimes you made an angry face. I can tell you: I'm that afraid! I'm
always thinkin': it don't go quick enough for him.
SIEBENHAAR
What doesn't go quick enough?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Bursting into tears._] I'm livin' too long for him--! But what's to
become o' Gustel?
SIEBENHAAR
But, my dear Mrs. Henschel, what kind of talk is that?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Sobbing softly to herself._] What's to become o' Gustel if I die?
SIEBENHAAR
Mrs. Henschel, you're a sensible woman! And so do listen to me! If one
has to lie quietly in bed, you see, the way you have had to do
unfortunately--week after week--why then one naturally has all kinds of
foolish thoughts come into one's head. One has all sorts of sickly
fancies. But one must resist all that resolutely, Mrs. Henschel! Why,
that would be a fine state of affairs, if that--! Such stuff! Put it out
of your mind, Mrs. Henschel! it's folly!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Dear me, I didn't want to believe it: I know what I says!
SIEBENHAAR
That's just what you don't know. That's just what, unfortunately, you
don't know at present. You will simply laugh when you look back upon, it
later. Simply laugh!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Breaking out passionately._] Didn't he go an' see her where she sleeps!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Utterly astonished but thoroughly incredulous._] Who went to see whom?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Henschel! The girl!
SIEBENHAAR
Your husband? And Hanne? Now look here; whoever persuaded you of that is
a rascally liar.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' when I'm dead he'll marry her anyhow!
_HENSCHEL appears in the doorway._
SIEBENHAAR
You're suffering from hallucinations, Mrs. Henschel!
HENSCHEL
[_In good-natured astonishment._] What's the matter, Malchen? Why are you
cryin' so?
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, you mustn't leave your wife alone!
HENSCHEL
[_Approaches the bed in kindly fashion._] Who's doin' anythin' to you?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Throws herself in sullen rage on her other side, turning her back to
HENSCHEL and facing the wall._] ... Aw, leave me in peace!
HENSCHEL
What's the meanin' o' this?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Snarling at him through her sobs._] Oh, go away from me!
_HENSCHEL, visibly taken aback, looks questioningly at SIEBENHAAR,
who polishes his glasses and shakes his head._
SIEBENHAAR
[_Softly._] I wouldn't bother her just now.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_As before._] You're wishin' me into my grave!
SIEBENHAAR
[_To HENSCHEL, who is about to fly into a rage._] Sh! Do me the favour to
keep still!
MRS. HENSCHEL
A body has eyes. A body's not blind! You don't has to let me know
everythin'. I'm no good for nothin' no more; I c'n go!
HENSCHEL
[_Controlling himself._] What do you mean by that, Malchen?
MRS. HENSCHEL
That's right! Go on pretendin'!
HENSCHEL
[_Perplexed in the extreme._] Now do tell me--anybody ...!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Things c'n go any way they wants to ... I won't be deceived, an' you c'n
all sneak aroun' all you want to! I c'n see through a stone wall! I c'n
see you for all--yes--for all! You thinks: a woman like that is easy to
deceive. Rot, says I! One thing I tell you now--If I dies, Gustel dies
along with me! I'll take her with me! I'll strangle her before I'd leave
her to a damned wench like that!
HENSCHEL
But mother, what's come over you?
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're wishin' me into my grave!
HENSCHEL
Hold on, now, hold on! Or I'll be gettin' wild!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Warning him softly._] Be calm, Henschel. The woman is ill.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Who has overheard._] Ill? An' who was it made me ill? You two--you an'
your wench!
HENSCHEL
Now I'd like to know who in the world put notions like that into your
head? The girl an' I! I don't understand the whole blasted thing! I'm
supposed to have dealin's with her?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Don't you fetch aprons an' ribands for her?
HENSCHEL
[_With renewed perplexity._] Aprons and ribands?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Yes, aprons and ribands.
HENSCHEL
Well, that's the queerest thing--!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Don't you think everythin' she does right an' fine? D'you ever give her a
angry word? She's like the missis of the house this very day.
HENSCHEL
Mother, keep still: I'm advisin' you!
MRS. HENSCHEL
'Tis you that has to keep still, 'cause there's nothin' you c'n say!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Standing by the bed._] Mrs. Henschel, you must collect yourself! All
this you're saying is the merest fancy!
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're no better'n he; you don't do no different! An' the poor
women--they dies of it! [_Dissolved in self-pitying tears._] Well, let
'em die!
_SIEBENHAAR gives a short laugh with an undertone of seriousness,
steps up to the table and opens one of the bottles of wine
resignedly._
HENSCHEL
[_Sitting on the edge of the bed speaks soothingly_] Mother, mother--you
turn over now an' I'll say a word to you in kindness. [_He turns her over
with kindly violence._] Look at it this way, mother: You've been havin' a
dream. You dreamed--that's it! Our little dog, he dreams queer things too
now an' then. You c'n see it. But now wake up, mother! Y'understan'? The
stuff you been talkin'--if a man wanted to make a load o' that the
strongest freight waggon'd break down. My head's fair spinnin' with it.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Having looked for and found a glass which he now fills._] And then you
raked me over the coals too!
HENSCHEL
Don't take no offence, sir. A woman like that! A man has his troubles
with her.--Now you hurry up, mother, an' get well, or some fine day
you'll be tellin' me I been to Bolkenhain an' stole horses.
SIEBENHAAR
Here, drink your wine and try to gain some strength.
MRS. HENSCHEL
If only a body could be sure!
_SIEBENHAAR supports her while she drinks._
HENSCHEL
What's wrong now again?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_After she has drunk._] Could you give me a promise?
HENSCHEL
I'll give you any promise you wants.
MRS. HENSCHEL
If I dies, would you go an' marry her?
HENSCHEL
Don't ask such fool questions.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Yes or no!
HENSCHEL
Marry Hanne? [_Jestingly._] O' course I would!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I mean it--serious ...!
HENSCHEL
Now I just wish you'd listen to this, Mr. Siebenhaar! What's a man to
say? You're not goin' to die!
MRS. HENSCHEL
But if I does?
HENSCHEL
I won't marry her anyhow! Now you see? An' now you know it! We can make
an end o' this business.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Can you promise it?
HENSCHEL
Promise what?
MRS. HENSCHEL
That you wouldn't go an' marry the girl!
HENSCHEL
I'll promise, too; I'm willin' to.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' you'll give me your hand in token?
HENSCHEL
I'm tellin' you: Yes. [_He puts his hand into hers._] But now it's all
right. Now don't worry me no more with such stuff.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE SECOND ACT
_A beautiful forenoon in May._
_The same room as in the first act. The bed, in which MRS. HENSCHEL
lay, is no longer there. The window which it covered is wide open.
HANNE, her face toward the window, her sleeves turned up above her
elbows, is busy at the washtub._
_FRANZ, his shirt-sleeves and trousers also rolled up, his bare feet
in wooden pattens, comes in carrying a pail. He has been washing
waggons._
FRANZ
[_With awkward merriment._] Hanne, I'm comin' to see you! Lord A'mighty!
Has you got such a thing as some warm water?
HANNE
[_Angrily throwing the piece of linen which she has on the washboard back
into the tub and going over to the oven._] You come in here a sight too
often!
FRANZ
Is that so? What's wrong, eh?
HANNE
[_Pouring hot water into the pail._] Don't stop to ask questions. I got
no time.
FRANZ
I'm washin' waggons; I'm not idlin' neither.
HANNE
[_Violently._] You're to leave me alone! That's what you're to do! I've
told you that more'n once!
FRANZ
What am I doin' to you?
HANNE
You're not to keep runnin' after me!
FRANZ
You've forgotten, maybe, how it is with us?
HANNE
How 'tis with us? No ways; nothin'! You go you way an' I goes mine, an'
that's how it is!
FRANZ
That's somethin' bran' new!
HANNE
It's mighty old to me!
FRANZ
That's how it seems.--Hanne, what's come between us!
HANNE
Nothin', nothin'! Only just leave me alone!
FRANZ
Has you anythin' to complain of? I been true to you!
HANNE
Oh, for all I care! That's none o' my business! Carry on with anybody you
want to! I got nothin' against it!
FRANZ
Since when has you been feelin' that way?
HANNE
Since the beginnin' o' time!
FRANZ
[_Moved and tearful._] Aw, you're just lyin', Hanne!
HANNE
You don't need to start that way at me. 'Twon't do you no good with me! I
don't let a feller like you tell me I'm lyin'! An' now I just want you to
know how things is. If your skin's that thick that you can't be made to
notice nothin' I'll tell you right out to your face: It's all over
between us!
FRANZ
D'you really mean that, Hanne?
HANNE
All over--an' I want you to remember that.
FRANZ
I'll remember it all right! [_More and more excited and finally weeping
more than speaking._] You don't need to think I'm such a fool; I noticed
it long before to-day. But I kept thinkin' you'd come to your senses.
HANNE
That's just what I've done.
FRANZ
It's all the way you look at it. I'm a poor devil--that's certain; an'
Henschel--he's got a chest full o' money. There's one way, come to think
of it, in which maybe you has come to your senses.
HANNE
You start at me with such talk an' it just makes things worse an' worse.
That's all.
FRANZ
It's not true, eh? You're not schemin' right on to be Mrs. Henschel? I'm
not right, eh?
HANNE
That's my business. That don't concern you. We all has to look out for
ourselves.
FRANZ
Well, now, supposin' I was to look out for myself, an' goes to Henschel
an' says: Hanne, she promised to marry me; we was agreed, an' so....
HANNE
Try it, that's all I says.
FRANZ
[_Almost weeping with pain and rage._] An' I will try it, too! You take
care o' yourself an' I'll take care o' myself. If that's the way you're
goin' to act, I c'n do the same! [_With a sudden change of front._] But I
don't want to have nothin' more to do with you! You c'n throw yourself at
his head for all I cares! A crittur like you isn't good enough for me!
[_Exit hastily._
HANNE
So it worked at last. An' that's all right.
_While HANNE continues busy at her washing, WERMELSKIRCH appears in
the passage at the rear. He is a man in the fifties; the former actor
is unmistakable in him. He wears a thread-bare dressing-gown,
embroidered slippers, and smokes a very long pipe._
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Having looked in for a while without being noticed by HANNE._] Did you
hear him cough?
HANNE
Who?
WERMELSKIRCH
Why, a guest--a patient--has arrived upstairs.
HANNE
'Tis time they began to come. We're in the middle of May.
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Slowly crosses the threshold and hums throatily._]
A pulmonary subject I,
Tra la la la la, bum bum!
It can't last long until I die,
Tra la la la la, bum bum!
[_HANNE laughs over her washing._] Things like that really do one good.
They show that the summer is coming.
HANNE
One swallow don't make no summer, though!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Clears a space for himself on the bench and sits down._] Where is
Henschel?
HANNE
Why he went down, to the cemetery to-day.
WERMELSKIRCH
To be sure, it's his wife's birthday. [_Pause._] It was a deuce of a blow
to him, that's certain.--Tell me, when is he coming back?
HANNE
I don't know why he had to go an' drive there at all. We needs the horses
like anything an' he took the new coachman with him too.
WERMELSKIRCH
I tell you, Hanne, anger spoils one's appetite.
HANNE
Well, I can't help bein' angry! He leaves everythin' in a mess. The 'bus
is to leave on time! An' the one-horse carriage sticks in the mud out
there an' Hauffe can't budge it! The old fellow is as stiff as a goat!
WERMELSKIRCH
Yes, things are beginning to look busy. The _chef_ upstairs starts in
to-day. It's beginning to look up in the tap-room too.
HANNE
[_With a short derisive laugh._] You don't look, though, as if you had
much to do!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Taking no offence._] Oh, that comes later, at eleven o'clock. But then
I'm like a locomotive engine!
HANNE
I believe you. There'll be a lot o' smoke. You won't let your pipe get
cold whatever happens.
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Smiling a little._] You're pleased to be pointed in your
remarks--pointed as a needle.--We've got to-day, for our table music,
wait now, let me think--: First of all, a bass violin; secondly, two
cellos; thirdly, two first violins and two second violins. Three first,
two second, three second, two first: I'm getting mixed up now. At all
events we have ten men from the public orchestra. What are you laughing
at? Do you think I'm fooling you? You'll see for yourself. The bass
violin alone will eat enough for ten. There'll be work enough to do!
HANNE
[_Laughing heartily._] Of course: the cook'll have a lot to do!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Simply._] My wife, my daughter, the whole of my family--we have to work
honestly and hard.--And when the summer is over we've worked ourselves to
the bone--for nothing!
HANNE
I don't see what you has to complain of. You've got the best business in
the house. Your taproom don't get empty, if it's summer or winter. If I
was Siebenhaar upstairs, you'd have to whistle a different tune for me.
You wouldn't be gettin' off with no three hundred crowns o' rent. There
wouldn't be no use comin' around me with less'n a thousand. An' then
you'd be doin' well enough for yourself!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Has arisen and walks about whistling._] Would you like anything else?
You frighten me so that my pipe goes out!
_GEORGE, a young, alert, neat waiter comes very rapidly down the
stairs behind the glass door, carrying a tray with breakfast service.
While still behind the door he stops short, opens the door, however,
and gazes up and down the passage way._
GEORGE
Confound it all! What's this place here?
HANNE
[_Laughing over her tub._] You've lost your way! You has to go back!
GEORGE
It's enough, God knows, to make a feller dizzy, No horse couldn't find
his way about this place.
HANNE
You've just taken service here, eh?
GEORGE
Well o' course! I came yesterday. But tell me, ladies an' gentlemen!
Nothin' like this has ever happened to me before. I've been in a good
many houses but here you has to take along a kind o' mountain guide to
find your way.
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Exaggerating the waiter's Saxonian accent._] Tell me, are you from
Dresden, maybe?
GEORGE
Meissen is my native city.
WERMELSKIRCH
[_As before._] Good Lord A'mighty, is that so indeed?
GEORGE
How do I get out of here, tell me that!
HANNE
[_Alert, mobile, and coquettish in her way in the waiter's presence._]
You has to go back up the stairs. We has no use down here for your
swallow tails.
GEORGE
This is the first story, eh? Best part o' the house?
HANNE
You mean the kennels or somethin' like that? We'll show you--that we
will! The very best people live down here!
GEORGE
[_Intimately and flirtatiously._] Young woman, do you know what? You come
along an' show me the way? With you I wouldn't be a bit afraid, no matter
where you lead me to. I'd go into the cellar with you or up into the hay
loft either.
HANNE
You stay out o' here! You're the right kind you are! We've got enough of
your sort without you.
GEORGE
Young woman, do you want me to help with the washin'?
HANNE
No! But if you're aimin' at it exackly, I c'n help you to get along!
[_Half drawing a piece of linen out of the suds._] Then you'd be lookin'
to see where your starched shirt-front went to!
GEORGE
O dear! You're not goin' to mess me up that way, are you? Well, well,
that wouldn't do! We'd have to have a talk about that first! That so,
young woman? Well, o' course! We'll talk about it--when I has time,
later.
[_He mounts the stairs and disappears._
WERMELSKIRCH
He won't lose his way very often after this! Siebenhaar will see to it
that he gets to know the way from the dining hall to the kitchen.--Hanne,
when is Henschel coming back?
HANNE
About noon, I s'pose! D'you want me to give him a message?
WERMELSKIRCH
Tell him--don't forget, now--tell him that I--send him my regards.
HANNE
Such foolishness. I might ha' thought ...!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Passing her with a slight bow._] Thoughts are free ... I wish you a
good morning.
[_Exit._
HANNE
[_Alone, washing vigorously._] If only Henschel wasn't such a fool!
_Above the cellar, outside, the pedlar FABIG, kneeling down, looks in
at the window._
FABIG
Good mornin', young woman! How are you? How's everythin'?
HANNE
Who are you anyhow?
FABIG
Why--Fabig, from Quolsdorf. Don't you know me no more? I'm bringin' you a
greetin' from your father. An' he wants me to tell you ... Or maybe you'd
want me to come in?
HANNE
Aw, I know. I believe you. He wants money again. Well, I has none myself.
FABIG
I told him that myself. He wouldn't believe me. Are you all alone, young
woman?
HANNE
Why d'you ax?
FABIG
[_Lowering his voice._] Well now you see, there's more'n one thing I has
on my heart. An', through the window, people might be hearin' it.
HANNE
Oh well, I don't care. You c'n come in! [_FABIG disappears from the
window._] That that feller had to be comin' to-day ...!
[_She dries her hands._
_FABIG enters. He is a poorly clad, strangely agile, droll pedlar,
with a sparse beard, about thirty-six years old._
FABIG
A good mornin' to you, young woman.
HANNE
[_Fiercely._] First of all, I'm no young woman but a girl.
FABIG
[_With cunning._] Maybe so. But from all I hears you'll be married soon.
HANNE
That's nothin' but a pack o' mean lies--that's what it is.
FABIG
Well, that's what I heard. It's no fault o' mine. People is sayin' it all
over; because Mrs. Henschel died ...
HANNE
Well, they can talk for all I care. I does my work. That's all that
concerns me.
FABIG
That's the best way. I does that way myself. There's little that folks
hasn't said about me some time ... In Altwasser they says I steals
pigeons. A little dog ran after me ... o' course, they said I stole it.
HANNE
Well now, if you got anythin' to say to me, go ahead an' don't waste
words.
FABIG
Now you see, there you are. That's what I always says too. People talks a
good deal more'n they ought to. They has a few rags to sell an' they
talks an' talks as if it was an estate. But I'll say just as little as
possible. What I wants to tell you about, young woman--now don't fly up:
the word just slipped out!--I meant to say: lass--what I wants to tell
you about is your daughter.
HANNE
[_Violently._] I has no daughter, if you want to know it. The girl that
father is takin' care of, is my sister's child.
FABIG
Well now, that's different, that is. We've all been thinkin' the girl was
yours. Where is your sister?
HANNE
Who knows where she is? She's not fool enough to tell us. She thinks,
thinks she: they c'n have the trouble an' see how they gets along.
FABIG
Well, well, well! There you see again how folks is mistaken. I'd ha'
taken any oath ... an' not me, not me alone, but all the folks over in
Quolsdorf, that you was the mother o' that child.
HANNE
Yes, I knows right well who says that o' me. I could call 'em all by
name! They'd all like to make a common wench o' me. But if ever I lays my
hands on 'em I'll give 'em somethin' to remember me by.
FABIG
Well, it's a bad business--all of it! Because this is the way it is: the
old man, your father, I needn't be tellin' you--things is as they is--he
don't hardly get sober. He just drinks in one streak. Well, now that your
mother's been dead these two years, he can't leave the little thing--the
girl I mean--at home no more. The bit o' house is empty. An' so he drags
her around in the pubs, in all kinds o' holes, from one village taproom
to the next. If you sees that--it's enough to stir a dumb beast with
pity.
HANNE
[_With fierce impatience._] Is it my fault that he swills?
FABIG
By no means an' not at all. Nobody c'n keep your old man from doin' his
way! 'Tis only on account o' the child, an' it's that makes a body feel
sorry. But if that there little one can't be taken away from him an'
given in the care o' decent folks, she won't live no ten weeks after
this.
HANNE
[_Hardening herself._] That don't concern me. I can't take her. I got all
I can do to get along!
FABIG
You'd better come over to Quolsdorf some time an' look into it all.
That'd be best, too. The little girl ... 'tis a purty little thing, with
bits o' hands an' feet like that much porcelain, so dainty an' delicate.
HANNE
She's not my child an' she don't concern me.
FABIG
Well, you better come over an' see what's to be done. It's hard for
people to see such things goin' on. If a man goes into an inn, in the
middle of the night or some time like that--I got to do that, you see, in
the way o' business--an' sees her sittin' there with the old man in the
midst o' tobacco smoke--I tell you it hurts a body's soul.
HANNE
The innkeepers oughtn't to serve him nothin'. If they was to take a stick
an' beat him out o' their places, maybe he'd learn some sense.--A
waggon's just come into the yard. Here you got a sixpence. Now you get
along an' I'll be thinkin' it all over. I can't do nothin' about it this
minute. But if you goes aroun' here in the inns an' talks about it--then
it's all over between us.
FABIG
I'll take good care, an' it don't concern me. If it's your child or your
sister's child--I'm not goin' to poke my nose in the parish register, nor
I'm not goin' to say nothin' neither. But if you want a bit o' good
advice,'tis this: Tell Henschel straight out how 'tis. He won't tear your
head off by a long way!
HANNE
[_With increasing excitement as HENSCHEL'S voice grows more clearly
audible._] Oh this here jabberin'! It's enough to drive you crazy.
[_Exit into the adjoining room._
_HENSCHEL enters slowly and seriously. He wears a black suit, a top
hat and white knitted gloves._
HENSCHEL
[_Remains standing and looks at FABIG with an expression of slow
recollection. Simply and calmly._] Who are you?
FABIG
[_Alertly._] I buy rags, waste paper, furniture, cast off clothes,
anythin' that happens to be aroun'.
HENSCHEL
[_After a long glance, good-naturedly but with decision._] Out with the
fellow!
_FABIG withdraws with an embarrassed smile._
HENSCHEL
[_Takes off his top-hat and wipes his forehead and neck with a
manicoloured handkerchief. Thereupon, he places his hat on the table and
speaks toward the door of the next room:_] Girl, where are you?
HANNE
I'm with Gustel here in the little room.
HENSCHEL
All right. I c'n wait. [_He sits down with a sigh that is almost a
groan._] Yes, yes, O Lord--a man has his troubles.
HANNE
[_Enters busily._] The dinner'll be ready this minute.
HENSCHEL
I can't eat; I'm not hungry.
HANNE
Eatin' and drinkin' keeps body an' soul together. I was once in service
with a shepherd, an' he said to us more'n one time: If a body has a
heartache or somethin' like that, even if he feels no hunger, 'tis best
to eat.
HENSCHEL
Well, cook your dinner an' we'll see.
HANNE
You shouldn't give in to it. Not as much as all that. You got to resign
yourself some time.
HENSCHEL
Was that man Horand, the bookbinder, here?
HANNE
Everythin's attended to. He made forty new billheads. There they are on
the chest.
HENSCHEL
Then the work an' the worry begins again. Drivin' in to Freiburg mornin'
after mornin' an' noon after noon haulin' sick people across the hills.
HANNE
You're doin' too much o' the work yourself. Old Hauffe is too slow by
half. I can't help it--if I was you I'd get rid o' him.
HENSCHEL
[_Gets up and goes to the window._] I'm sick of it--of the whole haulin'
business. It c'n stop for all I care. I got nothin' against it if it
does. To-day or to-morrow; it's the same to me. All you got to do is to
take the horses to the flayers, to chop up the waggons for kindlin' wood,
an' to get a stout, strong bit o' rope for yourself.--I think I'll go up
an' see Siebenhaar.
HANNE
I was wantin' to say somethin' to you when I got a chance.
HENSCHEL
Well, what is it, eh?
HANNE
You see, it's not easy for me. No, indeed. [_Elaborately tearful._] But
my brother--he needs me that bad. [_Weeping._] I'll have to leave--that's
sure.
HENSCHEL
[_In extreme consternation._] You're not right in your mind. Don't start
that kind o' business!
_HANNE, shedding crocodile tears, holds her apron to her eyes._
HENSCHEL
Well now, look here, lass: you're not goin' to play me that kind of a
trick now! That would be fine! Who's goin' to manage the house? Summer's
almost with us now an' you want to leave me in the lurch?
HANNE
[_With the same gesture._] 'Tis the little one I feels sorry for!
HENSCHEL
If you don't take care of her, who's goin' to?
HANNE
[_After a space collecting herself apparently by an effort of the will.
Quietly:_] It can't be done no different.
HENSCHEL
Everythin' c'n be done in this world. All you needs is to want to do
it.--You never said nothin' about it before. An' now, suddenly, you talk
about your brother!--Maybe I been offendin' you some way? Don't you feel
suited with me no more?
HANNE
There's no end to the gossip that's goin' round.
HENSCHEL
What kind o' gossip?
HANNE
Oh, I don't know. I'd rather be goin out o' the way of it.
HENSCHEL
I'd like to know just what you mean!
HANNE
I does my work an' I takes my pay! An' I won't have nobody say such
things o' me. When the wife was still alive I worked all day; now that
she's dead, I don't do no different. People c'n say all they wants to;
I'm tryin' to make you think I'm fine, an' I want dead people's shoes.
I'd rather go into service some other place.
HENSCHEL
[_Relieved._] You needn't say no more if that's all it is!
HANNE
[_Takes up some piece of work as an excuse for leaving the room._] No,
no, I'll go. I can't never stay!
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
[_Talking after her._] You c'n let people talk an' not say much yourself.
All them tongues has to wag for an occupation. [_He takes off his black
coat and hangs it up. Sighing._] The pack o' troubles don't get no
smaller.
_SIEBENHAAR comes in slowly. He carries a decanter full of water and
a glass._
SIEBENHAAR
Good morning, Henschel.
HENSCHEL
Good mornin' Mr. Siebenhaar,
SIEBENHAAR
Am I disturbing you?
HENSCHEL
Not a bit; not at all. You're very welcome.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Placing the decanter and the glass on the table._] I've got to drink
the medicinal spring water again. I'm having that old trouble with my
throat. Well, dear me, a man has to die of something!
HENSCHEL
You must just go ahead an' drink the waters. They'll cure you.
SIEBENHAAR
Yes, that's just what I'm doing.
HENSCHEL
An' not from the Mill Spring nor from the Upper Spring. Ours is the best.
SIEBENHAAR
Well now, to change the subject. [_Half lost in thought he has been
toying with a sprig of ivy. Now he observes this, starts slightly, runs
his eyes over the top-hat and HENSCHEL himself and says suddenly:_] This
was your wife's birthday, wasn't it?
HENSCHEL
She'd ha' been thirty-six years old to-day.
SIEBENHAAR
Is it possible?
HENSCHEL
Oh, yes, yes.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, I'd better leave you alone now. But when it's agreeable to
you--to-morrow maybe, I'd like to talk over some business with you.
HENSCHEL
I'd rather you went ahead right now.
SIEBENHAAR
It's about the thousand crowns ...
HENSCHEL
Before we says any more, Mr. Siebenhaar. You c'n just keep that money
till winter. Why should I be lyin' to you? You see? I don't need the
money. I don't care exackly when I gets it; an' that it's safe, I'm
satisfied o' that.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, Henschel, in that case I'm very grateful to you. You're doing me a
great favour. During the summer I take in money; you know that. Just now
it would have been difficult for me.
HENSCHEL
Well, you see, so we c'n agree fine.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR.
[_Walking to and fro._] Yes, yes, I sometimes wonder over myself. I grew
up in this house. And yet, to-day, if I could but make a decent closing
out, I could leave it quite calmly.
HENSCHEL
I wouldn't like to go, I must say. I wouldn't hardly know where to go to.
SIEBENHAAR
Things have moved ahead with you, Henschel. But the same set of
conditions that has counted in your favour, has been that against which
I've had to struggle to keep my head above water.
HENSCHEL
The shoe pinches one man in this place an' another man in that. Who's
goin' to say which is worse off? You see, I got a good, hard blow, too.
An' if I'm goin' to recover ... well, I don't hardly feel like myself
yet.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, there's a time for everything! You'll have to conquer that now.
You must go out among people, hear things, see things, drink a glass of
beer once in a while, plunge into business, perhaps--somehow, put an end
to this sad business. It can't be helped, and so--forward!
HENSCHEL
'Tis just as you say! You're quite right!
SIEBENHAAR
To be sure, your wife was the best, most faithful woman. There's only one
opinion about that. But you are in the full current of life, Henschel;
you're in your best years; you still have a great deal to do in the
world: who knows how much. You needn't forget your wife on that account;
on the contrary. And that's entirely out of the question in the case of a
man like you. But you must honour her memory in a saner way. This kind of
brooding does no good. I've been watching you for a good while and I
determined, without saying anything, to make a really strong appeal to
you one day. You're letting yourself be actually downed.
HENSCHEL
But what's a man to do against it? You're right--that you are; but times
I hardly know what to do! You say: Plunge into business. But there's
somethin' lackin' all around. Four eyes sees better'n two; four
hands--they c'n do a sight more. Now I got all these coaches here in the
summer! An' there's no one to see to things at home! 'Tis not easy, I c'n
tell you that.
SIEBENHAAR
I thought that Hanne was quite a capable girl.
HENSCHEL
Well, you see, she's given me notice, too.--'Tis too hard for a man to
get along without a wife. Yon can't depend on no one. That's just it;
that's just what I says!
SIEBENHAAR
Why don't you marry, Henschel?
HENSCHEL
'Twould be best!--What c'n I do without a wife? A man like me can't get
along without one. I was thinking in fact, of goin' upstairs an' askin'
the missis if, maybe, she could give me some advice in that direction.
She died an' left me alone in the midst of all these worries.--An', also,
to tell you the truth, this business of mine's not what it used to be.
How long is it goin' to be before the railroad comes here? Well, you see,
we'd put by a little, an' we wanted to buy a small inn--maybe in two
years or so. Well, that can't be done without a woman neither.
SIEBENHAAR
True. You won't be able to get along this way permanently. You can't
remain a widower the rest of your life. If for no other reason but for
the child's sake.
HENSCHEL
That's what I always says.
SIEBENHAAR
Of course I have no right to interfere in your affairs. Still, we're old
friends. To wait, Henschel, just on account of what people will
think--that's sheer nonsense, no more, no less. If you are quite
seriously thinking of marrying again, it would be better both for you and
for the child if you did it soon. You needn't be overhasty; assuredly
not! But if you've quite made up your mind, then--go straight ahead! Why
should you hesitate? [_After a pause during which HENSCHEL scratches his
head._] Have you any one particular in view?
HENSCHEL
--If I got some one in view? That's what you'd like to know? Maybe I has.
Only I can't marry her.
SIEBENHAAR
But why not?
HENSCHEL
You know it yourself.
SIEBENHAAR
I? I know it? How's that?
HENSCHEL
All you got to do is a little thinkin'.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Shaking his head._] I can't say that I recall at this moment.
HENSCHEL
Didn't I have to go an' promise my wife ...
SIEBENHAAR.
------?--Oh, yes!!--You mean the girl--Hanne?--
[_Pause._]
HENSCHEL
I been thinkin' an' thinkin'. There's no use in denyin' it. When I wakes
up during the night, I can't sleep for a couple o' hours sometimes. I got
to be thinkin' of it all the time. I can't get over it any way!--The
girl's a good girl. She's a bit young for an old fellow like me, but she
c'n work enough for four men. An' she's taken very kindly to Gustel; no
mother could do more'n she. An' the girl's got a head on her, that's
sure, better'n mine. She c'n do sums better'n I can. She might go an' be
a calculator. She knows a bit o' business to the last farthing, even if
six weeks have come an' gone since. I believe she could make a fool o'
two lawyers.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, if you're so thoroughly convinced of all that ...!
HENSCHEL
There wouldn't be no better wife for me! An' yet ... an' yet! I can't get
over it.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
I do remember quite dimly now what you mean. It was quite at the end of
her life.--But I confess to you quite frankly: I didn't take that matter
so very seriously. Your wife was in a very excited condition. And that
was caused largely by her illness.--I can't think that that is the main
question. The real question must finally be whether Hanne is really
suitable for you! She has her advantageous qualities: no doubt about
that. There are things about her that I like less. However: who hasn't
some faults. People say that she has a child.
HENSCHEL
That she has. I've inquired. Well, even so. I don't care nothin' about
that. Was she to wait for me, eh? She didn't know nothin' about me when
that happened. She's hot-blooded; all right. That'll come out somehow.
When the pears is ripe, they falls to the ground. On that account--no,
that don't trouble me none.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, then! The other matter is trivial. Perhaps not trivial exactly. I
can well understand how it's taken hold of you. Still, one must get free
of it. To be bound by it, in spite of one's saner thought--that's clearly
folly, Henschel.
HENSCHEL
I've said that to myself ten times over. You see, my wife she didn't
never want anythin' but what was for my best good. I mean, in the days
when she was well. She wouldn't want to stand in my way. Wherever she is,
maybe, she'd want to see me get along.
SIEBENHAAR
Assuredly.
HENSCHEL
Well, I went out to her grave to-day. The missis had a wreath put there
too. I thought to myself I'd better go there, that's what I thought.
Maybe she'll be sendin' you some message. Mother, I said in my thoughts,
give me a sign. Yes or no! Anyway you answers, that way it'll be! An' I
stood, there half an hour.--I prayed, too, an' I put it all to her--just
to myself, o' course--about the child an' the inn an' that I don't know
what to do in my business--but she didn't give me no sign.
_HANNE enters throwing sidelong glances at the two men, but at once
going energetically to work. She puts the washbench and tub aside and
busies herself at the stove._
SIEBENHAAR
[_To HENSCHEL._] God give the dead peace and blessedness. You are a man;
you're in the midst of life. Why should you need signs and miracles? We
can find our way in this world by depending with fair certainty on our
reason. You simply go your way. You're captain on your own ship.
Overboard with all these fancies and sickly notions! The more I think of
your plan, the more rational it seems to me ...
HENSCHEL
Hanne, what do you say about it?
HANNE
I don't know. How c'n I tell what you're talkin' about?
HENSCHEL
You just wait: I'll tell you later.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, good morning, Henschel. I'll see you later. Meanwhile--good luck!
HENSCHEL
I'll hope I'll have it.
SIEBENHAAR
I'm not worried about you. You had a lucky way with you always.
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
Yon shouldn't be sayin' it! 'Tis bad luck.
HANNE
If you spits three times, it'll take the curse off.
[_Pause._]
HANNE
I can't help thinkin' as you're too good.
HENSCHEL
What makes you think so?
HANNE
People just robs you: that's what I says.
HENSCHEL
Did you think he wanted somethin' of me?
HANNE
Well, what else? He ought to be ashamed to come beggin' o' poor people.
HENSCHEL
Hanne, you don't know what you're sayin'.
HANNE
I knows well enough.
HENSCHEL
That's what you don't. An' you couldn't know. But some day, later on,
you'll come to understand.--Now I'll be goin' to the taproom an' buy me a
mug o' beer. It'll be the first time these eight weeks. After that we c'n
eat, an' after the dinner then--listen to me--then we might say a word to
each other. Then we c'n see how everythin' c'n be straightened out.--Or,
maybe, you don't care about it?
HANNE
You was sayin' yourself: We c'n see.
HENSCHEL
An' that's what I says now. We c'n wait.
[_Exit._
[_Pause._]
HANNE
[_Works on undisturbed. When HENSCHEL is out of hearing, she suddenly
ceases, scarcely mastering her joyous excitement, she dries her hands and
tears off her apron. In involuntary triumph:_] I'll show you. Watch out!
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE THIRD ACT
_The same room as tn the two preceding acts._
_It is evening toward the end of November. A fire is burning in the
oven; a lighted candle stands on the table. The middle door is
closed. Muffled dance music penetrates into the room from the upper
stories of the house._
_HANNE, now MRS. HENSCHEL, sits by the table and knits; she is neatly
and suitably clad in a dress of blue cotton, and wears a red kerchief
across her breast._
_HILDEBRANT, the smith, enters. A small, sinewy person._
HILDEBRANT
Good evenin', missis, where's your husband?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Gone to Breslau. He's fetchin' three new horses.
HILDEBRANT
Then I s'pose he won't be comin' home to-day, eh?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Not before Monday.
HILDEBRANT
Well, this is Saturday.--We've brought back the board waggon. It's
downstairs in the entry way. We had to renew all the four tires. Where's
Hauffe?
MRS. HENSCHEL
He hasn't been with us this long time.
HILDEBRANT
So he hasn't. 'Tis nonsense I'm talkin'. I mean the new servant. Is
Schwarzer here?
MRS. HENSCHEL
He's gone along to Breslau.
HILDEBRANT
Fact is I knows all about Hauffe. He comes down to the smithy an' just
stands aroun'. He's got nothin' to do yet.
MRS. HENSCHEL
People says he's beginnin' to drink.
HILDEBRANT
I believes it. That's the way it goes. 'Tis bad for an old fellow like
that; nobody wants him now.--What's goin' on up there to-day?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Dancin'!
HILDEBRANT
How'd it be if we was to go up there too, missis. Why shouldn't we be
joinin' in a little waltz too?
MRS. HENSCHEL
They'd open their eyes pretty wide up there if we did.--But what is it
you want of Henschel?
HILDEBRANT
His honour, the judge, has a chestnut stallion that don't want to let
hisself be shoed. So we wanted to ax Henschel to step over. If he can't
get any beast to stand still, why then--! Well, good evenin', Mrs.
Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Good evenin'.
_HILDEBRANT withdraws._
MRS. HENSCHEL.
[_Listens to a dragging noise out in the passage._] What kind of a noise
is that there? [_She steps forward and opens the door._] Who's makin' all
that racket out there?
FRANZISKA
[_Comes dancing in._] Get out of the way, Mrs. Henschel! I have no time.
[_She whirls about in the room to the measure of the waltz heard from
above._]
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, this is a fine way to act! What's the matter with you? Did a mad
dog bite you, maybe?
_FRANZISKA dances on and hums the melody of the waltz._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_More and more amused._] For heaven's sake! Somethin's goin' to happen
to you!--No, girl, you're goin' clear out o' your mind!
FRANZISKA
[_Sinks exhausted into a chair as the music breaks off._] Oh, Mrs.
Henschel, I could dance myself to death!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Laughing._] At this here rate I believes you! It makes a body feel
dizzy just to watch you.
FRANZISKA
Don't you dance at all?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Me? If I dance? To be sure I do. 'Twasn't once or twice only that I got a
pair o' new shoes an' danced 'em to pieces in one night!
FRANZISKA
Come and dance with me then!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Why don't you go upstairs an' dance with the folks there?
FRANZISKA
Oh, if only I might! Do you know what I'll do? I'll sneak up! I'll sneak
into the gallery! Have you ever been up there? The bags of prunes stand
up there. I go up there quite boldly and look down, and eat prunes. Why
shouldn't I look down from there?
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' maybe Siebenhaar'll send for you to come down.
FRANZISKA
I just stare down as bold as you please. I don't care a bit. And whenever
a lady dances with Mr. Siebenhaar, I pelt her with plum pits.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're crazy about Siebenhaar--that's certain!
FRANZISKA
Well, he's a real swell--that's what none of the others are. [_The music
is heard again._] Ah, they're starting. That's a polka! [_Dancing
again._] I'd like to dance with Mr. Siebenhaar this minute. D'you know
what I'd do? I'd just kiss him before he knew what was happening.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Siebenhaar'd be too old for me!
FRANZISKA
Your husband is just as old, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Look here, girl, I want you to know that my husband is a good five years
younger.
FRANZISKA
Well, he looks much older anyhow. Why, he looks so old and wrinkled. No,
I wouldn't care to kiss him.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You better see about getting out o' here, or I'll take a broom an' help
you along! Don't you abuse my husband! An' where would I get a better
one? You wait till you're a few years older an' you'll see what it means
in this world to have a husband!
FRANZISKA
I won't marry at all. I'll wait till some fine, rich gentleman
comes--some summer--for his health--a Russian, by preference--and then
I'll let him take me out into the world. I want to see the world--to
wander far--I want to go to Paris. And then I'll write you about myself,
Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I do believe you'll run off some day!
FRANZISKA
You can wager anything that I will. Mr. Siebenhaar was in Paris, too, you
know, during the revolution in 'forty-eight, and he can tell you the most
interesting stories! Oh, I'd like to see a revolution like that some day
too. They build barricades ...
WERMELSKIRCH'S VOICE
Franziska! Franziska! Where are you keeping yourself again?
FRANZISKA
Sh! Don't say anything!
WERMELSKIRCH'S VOICE
Franziska! Franziska!
FRANZISKA
Sh! Keep still! He wants me to serve at the bar. And that's horrid and I
won't do it!
WERMELSKIRCH'S VOICE
Franziska!
FRANZISKA
It's papa's or mama's place to do that. Or they can hire a waiter. I
won't be turned into a bar maid.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That's not the worst kind o' thing!
FRANZISKA
Oh, if there were real gentlemen to serve! But they're just
well--attendants, coachmen and miners. Much obliged for such company! I
don't care about it!
MRS. HENSCHEL
If I was you, I'd do that reel easy. An' I'd be gettin' good tips. You
could save a good many pennies an' put by a nice sum.
FRANZISKA
I won't accept pennies and farthings. And if some time Mr. Siebenhaar or
the architect or Dr. Valentiner gives me a present, I spend it on
sweetmeats right away.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Ah, that's just it. You're your father's daughter. An' your mother wasn't
much different neither. You people don't take care o' the business you
has! If you'd ha' done so you'd have money out at interest this day.
FRANZISKA
We're not as stingy as you, that's all.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I'm not stingy. But you got to keep your substance together.
FRANZISKA
People say you're stingy, though!
MRS. HENSCHEL
People c'n be--! An' you too! Hurry now an' get out o' here! I'm sick o'
your jabberin' now! An' you don't need to come back here neither! I
haven't been longin' for you, exackly! 'Tis best not to see or hear
anything o' the whole crowd o' you.
FRANZISKA
[_Turning once more at the door, with angry malice._] Do you know what
else people say?
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don't want to know nothin'! Get out o' here! You look out that you
don't get to hear things about yourself! Who knows what's between you an'
Siebenhaar? You two knows it an' I knows it too. Otherwise you'd ha' been
kicked out twenty times over with your slovenly management! Teach me to
know Siebenhaar!
FRANZISKA
Fy, fy and fy again!
[_Exit._
MRS. HENSCHEL
The baggage!
_The middle door has remained open. SIEBENHAAR and the waiter GEORGE,
coming from different directions along the passage way, are seen to
meet at the door. GEORGE affects the height of Vienna fashions--hat,
cane, long overcoat, gay tie._
SIEBENHAAR
What are you after here?
GEORGE
You'll forgive me but I have some business with Drayman Henschel.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel is not at home. You've been told three times now that there is
no place for you in my house. If you can't remember that henceforth I
shall be compelled to have your memory assisted by--the constable.
GEORGE
I beg your pardon very humbly, Mr. Siebenhaar, but I begs to submit that
I don't come to see you. These people lives in your house. An' you can't
prove nothin' as touchin' the question of my honour.
SIEBENHAAR
Very well. Only, if I should meet you again I'll have the porter kick you
out. So you had better act accordingly.
[_Exit._
GEORGE
_[Enters the room cursing.]_ I'll take that there risk! We'll see about
that later!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Closes the door, with difficulty mastering her rage toward
SIEBENHAAR._] We're here, too, I'd have him know. Just let him try it!
This here is our room, not his room, an' anybody that comes here comes to
us an' not to him! He's got no right to say nothin' about it!
GEORGE
We'll just wait an' see--that's all I says. He might have to pay good an'
dear for that. That kind o' thing takes a man to the pen. He got hisself
into a nasty mess with Alphonse, who was here two years ago. But he'd be
gettin' into a worse mess with me. A hundred crowns o' damages'd be too
little for me.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' he hasn't got no hundred crowns in his pocket--the damned bankrupt!
He's been borrowing of everybody in the county. He's got nothin' but
debts; you hear that on all sides. 'Twon't be long before there won't be
nothin' left an' he'll have to leave the house hisself instead o' puttin'
other people out of it!
GEORGE
[_Has recovered his overcoat, hung up his hat, and is now picking off the
little feathers from his coat and trousers._] That's right! An' that's no
secret to nobody. Even the people that come here year in an' out says the
same. An' nobody is sorry for him; no, they're willin' it should happen
to him. My present boss, he can't stand him neither. He gets reel
venomous if you so much as mention Siebenhaar's name. [_Takes a
pocket-mirror and comb from his pocket and smooths his hair._] Lord
knows, he says, there's more tricks to that man than a few.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I believes that; I s'ppose he's right there.
GEORGE
Now then, Hanne, has you got somethin' warm for me?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Why didn't you come yesterday?
GEORGE
You thinks I c'n get off every day, don't you? 'Twas hard enough to get
to come here to-day! Yesterday I was busy till three o'clock in the
mornin'.
MRS. HENSCHEL:
What was it happened?
GEORGE
There was a meetin' o' the fire board. They bought a new engine, an' so
they wanted to celebrate the purchase. That's how they came to have a
meetin'.
MRS. HENSCHEL
All they wants is an excuse to swill. An' all that while I sat till late
at night and waited. Once--I don't know, but it must ha' been a bird
flyin' against the window--I thought 'twas you, an' so I went to the
window an' opened it. After that I was that mad, I couldn't sleep half
the night.
GEORGE
Oh, pshaw! What's the use o' havin' things like that spoil one's temper.
[_He puts his arms around her._] That's nothin'! Nothin' at all.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Frees herself from his embrace._] Oh, I don't know! 'Tis true--I don't
know how it comes--but things seem to go contrary with a body. Henschel
sits aroun' at home the whole week, an' now that he's gone for a bit, we
has to let the time slide away!
GEORGE
Well, we got plenty o' time to-day. He don't come back till Monday, I
thought.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who knows if it's true!
GEORGE
I don't know no reason why it shouldn't be true!
MRS. HENSCHEL
That man is bound to sit aroun' at home. 'Twasn't half as bad formerly.
He used to go on trips weeks at a time; nowadays he whines if he's got to
sleep away from home a single night. An' if he says: I'll stay three
days, he mostly comes back on the second--Listen ... I believe they've
come already! Who else'd be crackin' whips like that in the yard?
GEORGE
[_After he has listened, in a restrained tone:_] The devil take 'em
all--the whole damned crowd! A man hasn't had time to get warm a bit. I
s'pose I'll have to leave right off, eh? I thought it'd be mighty
different, I must say!
[_He slips his overcoat back on and takes up his hat._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Tears his hat from his head._] You stay right here! What d'you want to
run off for? D'you think I got to be scared o' Henschel. He's got to come
to my terms. I don't has to think about him. If you'd come yesterday!--I
told you ...! Then nobody wouldn't ha' interrupted us, no Henschel an' no
Siebenhaar. To-day the devil's broke loose!
_The horse dealer WALTHER enters--a handsome, vigorous fellow of
forty. Bashly cap, fur jacket, hunting stockings and tall boots; his
mits are fastened by cords._
WALTHER
Missis, your husband is outside in the yard. I'm just comin' in for a
minute to bid you good evenin'. I got to ride off again straight way.
He's bought some fine Flemish horses. An' he's brought along something
else, for you too.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I thought he wouldn't be comin' back till Monday.
WALTHER
An' that's the way it would ha' been. But we couldn't ride on horseback
no farther'n Kanth. There we had to take the train with the horses or
they'd ha' broken their necks an' their limbs. Travellin' was that bad on
account o' the sleet.
GEORGE
You makes better time with the train--that's certain!
WALTHER
What kind of a feller is that there? Why, you're tryin' to be invisible,
eh? Well, if that isn't little George--I do believe! Why, you looks like
a natural born baron!
GEORGE
A man earns more over there in the "Star" hotel. I has a much more
profitable position. Here I had to work till my clothes dropped from me
in rags. I was most naked in the end; now I'm beginnin' to buy somethin'
again.
WALTHER
Now guess, missis, what your husband has brought home for you!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, what is it?
WALTHER
I wager you'll be mighty glad of that present!
MRS. HENSCHEL
We'll see. It depends on what it is.
WALTHER
Good luck to you then. I got to hurry or my wife'll get ugly.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Good luck to you.
GEORGE
I might as well come along. Good night, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Didn't you want to see Henschel about somethin'?
GEORGE
There's plenty o' time for that. There's no hurry.
WALTHER
If you got somethin' to say to him you'd better wait till to-morrow. He's
got different kinds o' things in his mind to-day. D'you know what he's
bringin' you, missis?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What should he be bringin' me? Don't talk so much nonsense.
WALTHER
Why, he's bringin' you your daughter!
MRS. HENSCHEL
--What's that he's bringin'? I didn't hear right!
WALTHER
We was in Quolsdorf and fetched her.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're drunk, the two o' ye, eh?
WALTHER
No, no, I'm tellin' you the truth.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who did you get?
WALTHER
He didn't tell me nothin' about it. All of a sudden we was in the pub at
Quolsdorf an' sat down there.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, an' what then?
WALTHER
We was sittin' there an' then, after a little while, your father came in
with the bit of a girl.
MRS. HENSCHEL
'Tis no girl o' mine!
WALTHER
I don't know nothin' about that! I knows this much though: he's got the
child out there. He went up to your father an' he said: The child's a
pretty child.--Then he took her in his arms an' petted her. Shall I take
you with me, he axes her, an' she was willin' right off.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, an' my father?
WALTHER
Well, your father didn't know who Henschel was!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Better an' better! An' is that all?
WALTHER
[_Almost addressing GEORGE now._] No, there was nothin' more. He just
took the little one out an' said to your father: I'll let the lass ride
horseback. An' she kept cryin' out: Lemme ride! Lemme ride! Then Henschel
mounted his great Flemish horse an' I had to hand the child up to him.
After that he said: Good-bye, an' rode off.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' father just stood there an' looked on?
WALTHER
What was he goin' to do about it? The whole village might ha' turned out
for all the good it would ha' done. When once Henschel lays his hands on
somethin'--I wouldn't advise nobody to cross him! An' there's no one in
the county that likes to pick a quarrel with him neither! Your father, he
didn't know what was goin' on. Then suddenly, o' course, he roared like
fury an' cried out an' cursed more'n enough. But the people just laughed.
They knew Henschel. An' he--Henschel--he just said reel quiet: Good luck
to you, father Schäl; I'm takin' her along. The mother is waitin' for her
at home. Stop drinkin'! he said, an' maybe there'll be a place with us
for you some day, too.
GEORGE
Good-bye, I think I'll maybe drop in to-morrow.
[_Exit._
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' so he thinks I'm goin' to keep her here. I'll never do that--never in
the world. She's no child o' mine! How would I be lookin' before people?
First in Quolsdorf, then here! Didn't I work an' worry enough? Day an'
night, you might say, I was busy with Gustel. An' now the weary trouble
is to begin all over again. That'd be fine, wouldn't it? He'd better take
care!
_HENSCHEL appears in the middle door. He is also clad in leathern
breeches, fur jacket, tall boots, etc., just as he has dismounted. He
leads by the hand a little girl of six--ragged and unwashed._
HENSCHEL
[_Almost merrily referring to HANNE'S last words, which he has
overheard._] Who's to take care?
MRS. HENSCHEL
--Oh, I don't know!
HENSCHEL
Look, Hanne, look who comes here! [_To the child._] Go ahead, Berthel,
an' say good evenin'. Go on an' say it! Say: Good evenin', mama!
_BERTHEL leaving HENSCHEL unwillingly and walks, encouraged by
friendly little shoves from him, diagonally across the room to where
HANNE, assuming a disgruntled attitude, sits on the bench._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_To the child, who stands helplessly before her._] What do you want
here?
BERTHEL
I rode on such a pitty horsie?
_HENSCHEL and WALTHER laugh heartily._
HENSCHEL
Well now we'll keep her here. Hallo, Hanne! Are you angry about anythin'?
MRS. HENSCHEL
You are sayin' you wouldn't be back till Monday. There's not a bite for
supper in the house now.
HENSCHEL
There'll be a bit o' bread an' bacon.
[_He hangs up his cap._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Pulling ungently at BERTHEL'S clothes._] How'd you get this way?
HENSCHEL
You'll soon have to buy her somethin' to put on! She's got hardly nothin'
on her little body. 'Twas a good thing I had plenty o' blankets along, or
she'd ha' been half froze on the way. [_After he has removed his fur
jacket and warmed his hands._] Best thing would be to put her right
straight in a tub.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Best thing would ha' been if you'd ha' left her where she was.
HENSCHEL
What did you say?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Nothin'.
HENSCHEL
I thought you were sayin' somethin'.--Into the tub with her! An' then to
bed! An' you might go over her head a bit! I believe she's got a little
colony there. [_BERTHEL cries out._] What's the matter? Don't tug at her
so rough!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, don't cry, girl! That'd be the last straw!
HENSCHEL
You must be a bit friendly with her. The lass is thankful for every kind
word. Be quiet, Berthel, be quiet!
BERTHEL
I want to go to father!
HENSCHEL
You're with mother now! Mother is good!--I'm reel satisfied that we has
her with us. 'Twas the highest time. A bit longer an' we might ha' had to
look for her in the graveyard.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That wasn't half as bad as you're tryin' to make out.
HENSCHEL
[_In some consternation but still kindly._] What's the meanin' o' that?
[_Pause._]
WALTHER
Well, good luck to you all. I'll have to be goin'.
HENSCHEL
Wait a bit an' drink a glass o' toddy.
MRS. HENSCHEL
If there were only some rum in the house!
HENSCHEL
Well, you can fetch it from Wermelskirch's!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don't want to have nothin' to do with those people!
WALTHER
No, no. I got to go home. I got no time. I got to be ridin' half an hour
yet. [_To HANNE._] I don't want to be a bother to you.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who mentioned such a thing?
WALTHER
[_Humorously._] Nothin'! I didn't say nothin' at all. God forbid! I won't
let myself in for nothin'. You're a hard customer. Good-bye an' good
luck!
HENSCHEL
Good-bye, an' don't forget a greetin' to the wife!
WALTHER
[_Already from outside._] All right! Good night! I won't forget nothin'.
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
Well, didn't I do the right thing this time?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What is I to say to people?
HENSCHEL
--You're not goin' to be ashamed o' your own daughter!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who's sayin' I is, eh? 'Tis all the same to me! You're willin' to have
'em say evil o' me. You force 'em to it! [_Harshly to the child._] Here,
drink this milk! An' then off to bed with you! [_BERTHEL drinks._]
HENSCHEL
Are you goin' to go on this way?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Go on how?
HENSCHEL
With the child!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I'm not goin' to bite her; there's no fear!
[_She takes the still weeping child into the little room to bed._
HENSCHEL
[_Speaking after her._] She's not here to be bitten. I needn't ha'
brought her, you know!
[_A brief pause, after which HANNE returns._
HENSCHEL
A man can't never know how to please you. There's no gettin' along with
women folks. You always acted as if....
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_With tears of rage._] That's a lie if you want to know it!
HENSCHEL
What's a lie!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_As above._] I never bothered you about Berthel. I never so much as
mentioned her to you!
HENSCHEL
I didn't say you had. Why d'you howl so? On that account, because you
didn't say nothin', I wanted to help you in spite o' your silence.
MRS. HENSCHEL
But couldn't you ha' asked? A man ought to say somethin' before he does a
thing like that!
HENSCHEL
Well now, I'll tell you somethin': This is Saturday night. I hurried all
I could so's to be at home again. I thought you'd meet me different! But
if it's not to be, it can't be helped. Only, leave me in peace! You
understand!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Nobody's robbin' you o' your peace.
HENSCHEL
D'you hear me? I want my peace an' that's all. You brought me to that
point. I didn't think nothin' but what was good doin' this thing. Gustel
is dead. She won't come back no more. Her mother took her to a better
place. The bed is empty, an' we're alone. Why shouldn't we take care o'
the little lass? That's the way I thinks an' I'm not her father! You
ought to think so all the more, 'cause you're the child's mother!
MRS. HENSCHEL
There you are! You're beginnin' to throw it up to me this minute!
HENSCHEL
If you don't stop I'll go to Wermelskirch an' not come back all night!
D'you want to drive me out o' the house?--I'm always hopin' things'll be
different, but they gets worse ... worse! I thought maybe if you had your
child with you, you'd learn a little sense. If these goin's on don't end
soon ...
MRS. HENSCHEL
All I say is this: If she stays in the house an' if you tell people that
she's mine ...
HENSCHEL
They all know it! I don't have to tell 'em.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Then you c'n take your oath on it--I'll run away!
HENSCHEL
Run, run all you can--all you want to! You ought to be ashamed o'
yourself to the bottom o' your heart!
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE FOURTH ACT
_The tap room in WERMELSKIRCH'S public house. A flat, whitewashed
room with a door leading to the inner rooms of the house on the left.
The rear wall of this room is broken, toward its middle. The opening
leads to a second, smaller, oblong room. On the right wall of this
second room there is a glass door leading out into the open and,
farther forward, a window. On the rear wall of the main room the bar
is situated, filled with square whisky-bottles, glasses, etc. The
beer is also on draught there. Highly varnished tables and chairs of
cherry wood are scattered about the room. A red curtain divides the
two rooms. In the oblong rear room are also chairs and tables and, in
the extreme background, a billiard table. Lithographs, representing
mainly hunting scenes, are hung on the walls._
_WERMELSKIRCH, in a dressing gown and smoking a long pipe, sits on
the left, himself playing the piano. Three members of the voluntary
fire-corps play billiards. In the foreground to the right HAUFFE sits
brooding over a glass of whisky. He is noticeably shabby. MRS.
WERMELSKIRCH, a gipsy-like, slovenly old woman, is rinsing glasses
behind the bar. FRANZISKA is crouching on a window ledge at the right
playing with a kitten. The waiter GEORGE is standing at the bar over
a glass of beer. He has an elegant spring suit on, as well as
patent-leather shoes, kid-gloves and a top-hat set far back on his
head._
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Plays and sings._]
"When I was prince in realms Arcadian,
I lived in splendour and in wealth."
GEORGE
[_Who has accompanied the music by dancing gestures._] Go on, go on with,
that!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Coughing affectedly._] Can't be done! Quite hoarse! Anyhow ...
pshaw!... I'll try again.
"When I was prince ...." [_He coughs._]
"When I was prince in realms Arcadian,
I lived in splen ... I lived in splen ... "!
The devil take it!
GEORGE
Aw, why don't you go on? That was quite right! That was fine!
WERMELSKIRCH
I see myself trying! It's all over with me!
GEORGE
I don't understand you! That's the finest kind o' chamber music!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Laughing._] Chamber music!
GEORGE
Well, maybe not! I don't know the differences so well. Hallo, Miss
Franziska, what are you laughin' at?
FRANZISKA
I'm laughing at your beautiful patent-leather boots.
GEORGE
Go right ahead! You don't expect me to go barefoot. Give that man over
there a glass of beer. How would you like a bit o' cordial, Miss
Franziska? You're right, my boots is pretty fine ones. They cost me
twenty crowns. Why not? I c'n stand the expense; I'm able to do it! In
the "Sword" hotel a man c'n at least earn somethin'. To be sure, while I
was at the "Star" I couldn't ha' bought no boots like this.
WERMELSKIRCH
So you like it better at the "Sword"?
GEORGE
I should say so! A boss like I got now, a reel good fellow--I never had
before long's I've been in the business. We're like old friends--like
brothers. I could say most anythin' to him!
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, that's very different from Siebenhaar.
_FRANZISKA laughs out._
GEORGE
An' that just shows you: Pride goeth before a fall. Two or three weeks
an' he'll be under the hammer. Then I c'n buy myself his gold watch.
WERMELSKIRCH
You'd better buy the whole house!
GEORGE
Not just now. You got to wait for the proper time to do a thing like
that. An' anyhow, it's sold. Your health, gentlemen!... Your health,
gentlemen! When you're through, I'll order more! What's the name o' the
man that bought the house? Exner? Eh? He's goin' to bottle the spring
water an' export it. He's goin' to rent out the hotel.--I'd rent it this
minute if I had the money.
HAUFFE
Why don't you go to Henschel? He'll give it to you.
GEORGE
That wouldn't be as much out o' the question as you thinks.
HAUFFE
No, that a fac'! You're on pretty good terms with the wife!
[_FRANZISKA laughs aloud._]
GEORGE
Well, why shouldn't I be. That there woman's not half bad. I tell you, a
fellow that knows how, c'n make the women feed out o' his hand!
HAUFFE
Well, if you know enough to make Mrs. Henschel feed out o' your hand, you
must know your business pretty well. I'll say that for you.
_FABIG enters, the cord of his pack around his shoulders. He sits
down modestly in a corner._
GEORGE
Well, there you are; that's what I'm tellin' you! There's pretty few that
could come up to me that way. But a man has to be on the lookout, or he'd
get a good beatin' an' that's all!
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, you're not through with it yet yourself. [_SIEBENHAAR enters from
the left._] Where Henschel strikes down the grass stops growing. Your
servant, Mr. Siebenhaar!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Somewhat pale._] Good morning!
GEORGE
I think I'll play a game o' billiards.
[_He takes up his glass and disappears behind the curtain in the
rear._
SIEBENHAAR
[_Sitting down at a table near the piano._] Weren't you just singing, Mr.
Wermelskirch? Don't let me interrupt you, please.
WERMELSKIRCH
What? I? Singing? That's hardly possible! You know how deeply this
business affects me. But if you say so it must be true. Permit me to sit
down by you. Bring me a glass of beer, too, Franziska!
SIEBENHAAR
When one considers that you were completely hoarse three or four years
ago, you must admit that you've recuperated remarkably.
WERMELSKIRCH
You're quite right. But what good does it do me? I've half way crawled
out of the slough. But who knows what'll happen now?
FRANZISKA
[_Places a glass of beer before SIEBENHAAR; to WERMELSKIRCH:_] I'll bring
yours at once.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Having drunk._] What do you mean by that, exactly?
WERMELSKIRCH
I don't know that I can tell you very exactly what I do mean. But I feel
something in my bones. I believe there'll be a change in the weather.
Jesting aside--I have all kinds of omens that are familiar to an old
actor. When the waters here began to do me so much good, I knew certainly
that ten horses couldn't drag me away. And it wasn't a month before my
road company had gone to smash. Now I suppose I'll have to wander on in
the same old way again--who knows whither?
SIEBENHAAR
Who knows whither? That's the way of the world. As for me--I'm not sorry!
WERMELSKIRCH
Ah, but you're a man in the prime of life. The world has a place for a
man like you everywhere. It's different with an old fellow like me. If I
lose my means of making a living, I mean, if I'm given notice, what is
there left me, I'd like to know? I might actually get me a hurdy-gurdy
and Franziska could go about and collect the pennies.
FRANZISKA
That wouldn't embarrass me a bit, papa!
WERMELSKIRCH
Not if it were to rain gold pieces!
FRANZISKA
And, anyhow, papa, how you always talk! You could go back on the stage!
WERMELSKIRCH
Not even at a monkey-show, girlie!
SIEBENHAAR
Did Mr. Exner intimate anything to you? According to what he told me he
meant to leave everything pretty much as it is.
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, I hardly belong to what could be summed up as "everything."
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
[_Approaching the table in great excitement._] I must say, Mr.
Siebenhaar, I must say ... And you can take my word for it! I'm an old
woman of fifty and I've seen a good deal of the world, but the way we've
been treated here--that's really--I don't know what to call it--but it's
just vulgar malice, the lowest kind of scheming, pure meanness. You can
take my word for that!
WERMELSKIRCH
Oh, mother, are you starting in too? You'd better withdraw, if you don't
mind, and retire behind your barricade!
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
I'd like to know what our little Fanny did to that woman!
FRANZISKA
Oh, never mind, mama!
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
On the contrary! Are we to put up with everything? Isn't one to offer any
resistance if that woman robs us of our very bread--if she spreads
slander about our daughter? [_To SIEBENHAAR._] Did the child ever offend
you in any way?
WERMELSKIRCH
Mama, mama! Come along now, mama, and rest a while. So! You spoke your
part very well indeed. You can repeat it to-night.
[_He leads her behind the bar where her sobbing is heard for some
time after._
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Having resumed his seat._] She's quite right at bottom. I've heard all
kinds of rumours too, to the effect that Henschel will rent the barroom.
And, of course, his wife is behind that!
HAUFFE
An' who else'd be back of it I'd like to know? If there's anythin' low
happenin' in the village nowadays, you don't has to go an ax who's back
of it! That Henschel woman's got the devil in her!
FABIG
An' she's had her eye on the barroom this long time.
SIEBENHAAR
[_To_ HAUFFE.] One hardly ever sees you any longer, Hauffe? Where did you
land?
HAUFFE
Where d'you suppose? In misery an' hunger' An' who gave me the shove?
That damned crittur of a woman! Who else'd do it, I'd like to know! I
never had no trouble with Henschel!
FABIG
His wife has the breeches on--that's all!
HAUFFE
I wasn't quick enough for her no more. I'm not as young as I was--that's
a fac'! An' I don't go hangin' aroun' no woman's apron strings neither.
An' that there is what she wants. That's what you got to do with her!
She's a hot one--you might say--she don't never get enough.--But as for
workin': I c'n work! Them young fellers that she hires--they're that
stinkin' lazy.... I could do as much as any three of 'em.
SIEBENHAAR
One feels sorry for old Henschel.
HAUFFE
If he's satisfied, I don't care. But he ought to know why my bones is
stiff! They didn't get stiff with lazyin' aroun', an' if that man has a
chest full o' money to-day, he knows who it is that helped him earn a
good lot of it!
SIEBENHAAR
I recall very well that you even worked for Wilhelm Henschel's father.
HAUFFE
Well, who else but me! That's the way it is! An' I fed Wilhelm's horses
eighteen years an' more--hitched 'em up an' unhitched 'em--went on trips
summer an' winter. I drove 's far's Freiburg an' 's far's Breslau: I had
to drive 'way to Bromberg. Many a night I had to sleep in the waggon. I
got my ears an' my hands frost bitten: I got chilblains on both feet big
as pears. An' now he puts me out! Now I c'n go!
FABIG
That's all the woman's doin's: he's a good man.
HAUFFE
Why did he go an' load hisself with that wench! Now he can look out for
hisself! An' he couldn't hardly wait to do it decent. His first wife--she
wasn't hardly cold when he ran to get married to this one!
SIEBENHAAR
Well, no one knew her, of course.
FABIG
I knew her well enough. O Lord--that I did! If he'd ha' axed me, I could
ha' told him! If he wanted to send Gustel after her mother, there wasn't
no surer way for him to take: all he had to do was to make Hanne the
child's step-mother.
HAUFFE
Ah yes, yes ... well, well ... I'm not sayin' nothin' more. There's many
a one has shaken his head about that! But that'll be comin' home to him
some day. First people just wondered; now they'd believe anythin' of him.
SIEBENHAAR
That's undoubtedly mere idle talk.
_The horse dealer WALTHER enters in riding boots, hunting jacket and
cap. His whip is in his hand. He sits down at one of the tables and
beckons FRANZISKA to bring him beer._
HAUFFE
You c'n say that. Maybe it's true. But if the dead was to come back an'
was to say their say--'tis old Mrs. Henschel that could tell you a thing
or two. She couldn't live an' she didn't want to live! An' what's the
main thing--she wasn't to live!
SIEBENHAAR
Hauffe, you'd better take care! If Henschel were to get wind of that ...
HAUFFE
I wouldn't have to take care if he did! I'd say that to anyone's face.
Old Mrs. Henschel--she was meant to die! If they pisened her, I couldn't
say; I wasn't on the spot. But that thing didn't happen no natural way.
She was a well woman; she might ha' lived thirty years.
_SIEBENHAAR drinks and rises._
WALTHER
I c'n bear witness that she was well. She was my own sister an' I ought
to know. She was in the way an' had to go.
_SIEBENHAAR leaves quietly._
WERMELSKIRCH
Would you like a little snuff, gentlemen? [_Softly and confidentially._]
And don't you think, gentlemen, that you're going a little far? It seems
so to me. I wish you would watch the man. He sat here till quite late
yesterday. The man sighed so pitifully--there was no one else here--that
I really felt very sorry for him.
HAUFFE
'Tis his bad conscience that's botherin' him!
WALTHER
Don't talk to me about Henschel! I'm sick o' hearin' about him. He an'
me--we're through with each other this long time.
WERMELSKIRCH
No, no, Mr. Siebenhaar is right. One ought to feel sorry for him.
WALTHER
He c'n think about it what he pleases. I don't care. But what I ought to
think about Henschel--there's nobody that need tell me nothin' about
that!
_HENSCHEL and the smith HILDEBRANT enter at the right. HENSCHEL is
carrying little BERTHA, more neatly dressed than formerly, on his
arm. A little pause of embarrassment falls upon the men._
WERMELSKIRCH
Welcome, Mr. Henschel.
HENSCHEL
Good mornin', all of ye.
FRANZISKA
Well, Berthel, how are you?
HENSCHEL
Say thank you! Well, can't you talk?--We gets along. A body has to be
satisfied. Good mornin', brother. [_He stretches out his hand carelessly
to WALTHER who takes it in the same fashion._] How are you? How's
everythin'?
WALTHER
I gets along as usual. 'Twouldn't be bad if it was better! You're a
reg'lar nurse girl nowadays!
HENSCHEL
True, true! 'Tis almost that!
WALTHER
You're hardly ever seen without the girl. Can't you leave her with her
mother?
HENSCHEL
She's always scourin' an' workin'. The little thing is just in her way!
[_He sits down on a bench along the wall near the bar, not far from his
brother-in-law. He keeps the little girl on his lap. HILDEBRANT sits down
opposite him._] How is it, Hildebrant, what shall we have? I think we've
earned a bumper o' beer? Two of 'em, then, an two glasses o' brandy.
HILDEBRANT
That son of a--actually broke my skin!
HENSCHEL
Nothin' but a foal neither an' has the strength o'--... Good mornin',
Hauffe.
HAUFFE
Mornin'.
HENSCHEL
He's a bit surly. Let's not bother him.
FABIG
Mr. Henschel, won't you buy something o' me? A needle box for the wife,
maybe, or a pretty little comb to stick in the hair! [_All laugh._]
George, the waiter, he bought one too.
HENSCHEL
[_Laughing good-naturedly with the others._] Don't you come botherin' me
with your trash! [_To WERMELSKIRCH._] Give him a measure o' beer!--'Tis a
quaint little chap he is. Who is it?
HILDEBRANT
'Tis Fabig from Quolsdorf, I think--the most mischievous little scamp in
the county.
HENSCHEL
Well, I got a little native from Quolsdorf here too.
FABIG
[_To BERTHA._] We're good old friends, eh?
BERTHA
[_To FABIG._] Why don't you dive me some nuts?
FABIG
Aha, she knows who I is! I'll look an' see if I c'n find some!
BERTHA
Outside in the waggon!
FABIG
No, they're here in my pocket! [_He gives them to the child._] You see,
you don't get out o' the pubs. Long ago your grandfather took you along;
now you got to go about with Henschel.
HENSCHEL
[_To BERTHA._] Tell him to attend to his bit o' trash! Tell him you're
bein' looked out for! Tell him that!
_GEORGE comes vivaciously out of the billiard room._
GEORGE
[_Without noticing HENSCHEL._] Well,--I never saw the likes o' that! That
there feller c'n eat glass like anythin'. Put it down on the reckoning,
Miss Franziska: a lot o' beer! There's five o' us!
FRANZISKA
[_Has taken BERTHA on her arm. She goes with the child behind the bar._]
Bertha won't permit it; I can't do it now!
GEORGE
Good heavens, Mr. Henschel, there you are too!
HENSCHEL
[_Without noticing GEORGE, to HILDEBRANT._] Your health, Hildebrant!
[_They clink their glasses and drink._
FABIG
[_To GEORGE who, a little taken aback, lights his cigar at one of the
tables._] Tell me this, mister George, you're a kind of a wizard, eh?
GEORGE
Well, I do declare! What makes you think so?
FABIG
'Cause a while ago, you was gone like a light that's blown out.
GEORGE
Well, what's the use o' huntin' for disagreeable things. Siebenhaar an'
me--we can't agree, that's all.
FABIG
[_With the gesture of boxing another's ears._] People do say that
somethin' happened.--[_Passing by, to HAUFFE._] Did you win in the
lottery? eh?
HAUFFE
You damned vermin!
FABIG
Yes, that's just what I am.
HENSCHEL
Is it true that you're working down at Nentwich's now?
HAUFFE
What business is it o' yours?
HENSCHEL
[_Laughing and quite even-tempered._] Now look at that feller. He pricks
like a weasel wherever you touches him.
WALTHER
I s'pose you'll be our host here pretty soon now?
HENSCHEL
[_After he has glanced at him in astonishment._] That's the first ever
I've heard of it!
WALTHER
Oh, I thought! I don't know exackly who 'twas that told me.
HENSCHEL
[_Drinking: indifferently._] Whoever told you that must ha' been
dreamin'!
[_Pause._]
HILDEBRANT
In this here house everythin' is bein' turned upside down now. An' what I
says is this: You'll be all sighin' to have Siebenhaar back some day.
HENSCHEL
[_To HAUFFE._] You might go over to Landeshut. I got two coach horses
standin' there. You might ride them in for me.
HAUFFE
The hell I will--that's what I'll do for you.
HENSCHEL
[_Laughing and calmly._] Well, now you c'n sit there till you gets blue
in the face. I won't concern myself that much about you!
HAUFFE
You c'n keep busy sweepin' before your own door.
HENSCHEL
'Tis well, 'tis well. We'll let that there be.
HAUFFE
You got filth enough in your own house!
HENSCHEL
Hauffe, I tell you right now: I wouldn't like to do it. But if you're
goin' to start trouble here--I tell you that--I'll kick you out!
WERMELSKIRCH
Peace, gentlemen! I beg of you: peace!
HAUFFE
You're not the host here an' you can't kick nobody out! You has no more
right to say anythin' here than me! I don't let you nor nobody tell me to
hold my tongue. No, not you an' not your wife, no matter how you scheme,
you two! That don't scare me an' don't bother me that much!
_Without any show of anger, HENSCHEL grasps HAUFFE by the chest and
pushes him, struggling in vain, toward the door. Just before reaching
it he turns slightly, opens the door, puts HAUFFE out, and closes it
again. During this scene the following colloquy takes place:_
HAUFFE
Let go, I tell you! I just warn you: let go!
WERMELSKIRCH
Mr. Henschel, that won't do; I can't permit that!
HENSCHEL
I gave you fair warnin'! There's no help for you now.
HAUFFE
Are you goin' to choke me? Let go, I tell you! You're not the host here!
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
[_From behind the bar._] What's the meaning of this? That will never do,
Ludwig! You can't permit yourself to be treated that way!
FABIG
[_While HENSCHEL, holding HAUFFE, is rapidly approaching the door._] You
might as well let it be. There's nothin' to be done. That there man--he's
like an athlete. He'll bite his teeth into the edge of a table, and he'll
lift the table up for you so steady, you won't notice a glass on it
shakin'. If he went an' took the notion, I tell you, we'd all be flyin'
out into the street different ways!
_HAUFFE has been put out, HENSCHEL returns._
HENSCHEL
[_Resuming his seat amid a general silence._] He wouldn't give no
rest--he's that stubborn.
FIRST FIREMAN
[_Who has come in out of the billiard room and drunk a glass of whisky at
the bar._] I'd like to pay. A man had better go. In the end anybody
might be flyin' out o' here, you know.
WERMELSKIRCH
Yon take another glass of beer. That would be the last straw. After all,
I am still master here.
WALTHER
If that's the way you're goin' to do, Henschel, when you stands behind
the bar and runs this here place instead o' Wermelskirch--you won't keep
many customers, I c'n tell you that!
HENSCHEL
Customers like that don't matter.
WALTHER
You won't be able to pick 'em out, though. Hauffe don't pay with
counterfeit money neither.
HENSCHEL
He c'n pay anyway he wants to, for all I care. But I tell you again now:
Don't start that there business over again. I won't be takin' this place
at all. If I was goin' to take it, I ought to know better than anybody
else. Well, then: if I'm ready to buy a pub some day--I'll let you know!
Afterward you c'n give me your advice. An' if you don't like the place
an' don't patronise it--well, then, Lord A'mighty, you don't has to!
_The FIREMAN goes out slamming the door angrily behind him._
WALTHER
I s'pose it's just as well to go....
[_He prepares to pay his score._
WERMELSKIRCH
Mr. Henschel, surely that isn't right of you. You drive my customers out.
HENSCHEL
Well, my goodness! Now tell me: If that man runs out, what has I to do
with it? For my part he can stay here till mornin'.
WALTHER
[_Pocketing his money again._] You got no right to put anybody out o'
here. You're not the host.
HENSCHEL
Anythin' else you know?
WALTHER
People knows a good deal. Only they rather keep still. Wermelskirch knows
that best of all!
WERMELSKIRCH
Why I exactly? Now, look here, that's ...
HENSCHEL
[_Firmly and collectedly._] What is't you know? Out with it! One o' you
knows one thing an' another another, an' altogether you don't know that
much!
[_Pause._]
WALTHER
[_In a changed tone._] If you were only the same man you used to be! But
God only knows what's gotten into you! In those days you had a standin'
among men. People came from far an' wide to get your advice. An' what you
said, that was--you might say--almost like the law o' the land. 'Twas
like Amen in church. An' now there's no gettin' along with you!
HENSCHEL
Go right ahead with your preachin'.
WALTHER
Very well, I s'pose you're noticin' it all yourself. Formerly, you had
nothin' but friends. Nowadays nobody comes to you no more; an' even if
they did want to come they stay away on account o' your wife. Twenty
years Hauffe served you faithful. Then, suddenly, he don't suit your
wife, an' you take him by the scruff an' put him out. What's the meanin'
o' that! That woman has but to look at you an' you're jumpin' at her
beck, instead o' goin' an' takin' a stout rope an' knockin' the
wickedness out o' her!
HENSCHEL
If you don't keep still this minute--I'll take you by the scruff too.
GEORGE
[_To HENSCHEL._] Don't forget yourself, whatever you do, Mr. Henschel!
That man don't know no better, you see.
[_Exit rapidly into the billiard room._
WALTHER
I believe, Henschel, if a man comes nowadays an' tells you the truth,
you're capable o' flingin' him against the wall. But a feller like that,
a worthless windbag like George--he c'n lie to you day an' night. Your
wife an' he--they c'n compete with each other makin' a fool o' you! If
you want to be cheated--all right! But if you got a pair o' eyes left in
your head, open 'em once an' look around you an' look at that there
feller good an' hard. Them two deceive you in broad daylight!
HENSCHEL
[_About to hurl himself upon WALTHER, masters his rage._] What did you
say--eh? Nothin'! Aw, it's all right.
[_Pause._]
FABIG
It's reg'lar April weather this day. Now the sun shines an' now it blows
again.
HAUFFE'S VOICE
[_From without._] I'll pay you back for this! You watch out! You c'n let
it be now! We'll meet again: we'll meet at court--that's where.
WALTHER
[_Finishes his glass._] Good-bye. I'm meanin' well by you, Henschel.
HENSCHEL
[_Lays his hand about WALTHER'S wrist._] You stay here! Y' understan'?
WALTHER
What is I to do here?
HENSCHEL
You'll see for yourself. All I says is: You stay! [_To FRANZISKA._] Go
down an' tell my wife she's to come up!
_FRANZISKA goes._
WERMELSKIRCH
But, dear Mr. Henschel, I beg you, for heaven's sake, don't cause a
scandal here! The police will be coming at me next, and then ...
HENSCHEL
[_In an outburst of towering, withering rage--bluish-red of face._] I'll
beat you all to death if Hanne don't come here--now!!!
WALTHER
[_In helpless perplexity._] Wilhelm, Wilhelm, don' go an' commit some
foolishness now! I wish I hadn't said nothin'. An' it didn't mean
nothin'. You know yourself how people will talk!
HILDEBRANT
Wilhelm, you're a good man. Come to your senses! My God, how you look!
Think, man, think! Why, you fairly roared! What's the matter with you?
That must ha' been heard all over the house!
HENSCHEL
Anybody c'n hear me now that wants to. But you stay here an' Hanne is to
come here.
WALTHER
Why should I be stayin' here? I don't know what for! Your affairs--they
don't concern me a bit. I don't mingle in 'em an' I don't want to!
HENSCHEL
Then you should ha' thought before you spoke!
WALTHER
Everythin' else that's between us'll be settled in court. There we'll see
who's in the right. I'll get hold o' my money; never fear! Maybe you're
wife'll think it over once or twice before she goes an' perjures herself.
The rest don't concern me. I tell you to let me go. I has no time. I has
to go to Hartau, an' I can't be kept waitin' here.
_SIEBENHAAR re-enters._
SIEBENHAAR
What's happened here?
WERMELSKIRCH
Goodness, gracious, I don't know! I don't know what Mr. Henschel wants!
HENSCHEL
[_Who continues to imprison WALTHER'S wrist._] Hanne is to come here:
that's all.
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
[_To SIEBENHAAR._] The men were drinking their beer quite peacefully.
Suddenly Mr. Henschel came in and began a dispute as though he were
master here.
SIEBENHAAR
[_With a deprecating gesture._] All right; all right. [_To HENSCHEL._]
What's happened to you, Henschel?
HENSCHEL
Mr. Siebenhaar, it's no fault o' mine. I couldn't help things comin'
about this way. You may think what you please, Mr. Siebenhaar. I give you
my word--'twasn't my fault.
SIEBENHAAR
You needn't excuse yourself to me, Henschel. I know you're a man of
peace.
HENSCHEL
Yes. I was in your father's service long ago, an' even if it looks that
way a thousand times over--it wasn't my fault that this here has
happened. I don't know myself what I has done. I never was
quarrelsome--that's certain! But now things has come about ...! They
scratch an' they bite at me--all of 'em! An' now this man here has said
things o' my wife that he's got to prove--prove!!--or God help him!
SIEBENHAAR
Why don't you let the people gossip?
HENSCHEL
Proofs! Proofs! Or God help him!
WALTHER
I can prove it an' I will. There are not many people in this room that
don't know it as well as I. That there woman is on an evil way. 'Tis no
fault o' mine, an' I wouldn't ha' mentioned it. But I'm not goin' to let
you strike me. I'm no liar. I always speaks the truth! Ask it of anybody!
Ask Mr. Siebenhaar here on his honour an' conscience! The sparrows is
twitterin' it on every roof--an' worse things 'n that!
SIEBENHAAR
Think over what you're saying carefully, Walther.
WALTHER
He forces me to it! Why don't he let me go? Why is I to suffer for other
people? You know it all as well as I? How did you used to stand with
Henschel in other years when his first wife was alive? D'you think people
don't know that? An' now you don't cross his threshold.
SIEBENHAAR
The relations between us are our private affair. And I will not permit
remark or interference.
WALTHER
All right. But if first his wife dies, though she's as well as anybody,
an' when Gustel goes an' dies eight weeks later, then, I'm thinkin' it's
more'n a private affair!
HENSCHEL
What?--Hanne is to come!
_MRS. HENSCHEL enters suddenly and quickly, just as she has come from
her work and still drying her hands._
MRS. HENSCHEL
What're you roarin' about so?
HENSCHEL
'Tis well that you're here.--This man here says--
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Makes a movement as if to go._] Damned rot that it ...
HENSCHEL
You're to stay here!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Are you all drunk together? What're you thinkin' of, anyhow? D'you think
I'm goin' to stay here an' play monkey tricks for you?
[_She is about to go._
HENSCHEL
Hanne, I advise you ... This man here says ...
MRS. HENSCHEL
Aw, he c'n say what he wants to, for all I cares!
HENSCHEL
He says that you deceive me before my face an' behind my back!
MRS. HENSCHEL
What? What? What? What?
HENSCHEL
That's what he says! Is he goin' to dare to say that? An' that ... my
wife ...
MRS. HENSCHEL
Me? Lies! Damned lies!
[_She throws her apron over her face and rushes out._
HENSCHEL
That I ... that my wife ... that we together ... that our Gustel ... 'Tis
well! 'Tis well!
[_He releases WALTHER'S hand and lets his head sink, moaning, on the
table._
WALTHER
I won't be made out a liar here.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE FIFTH ACT
_The same room as in the first three acts. It is night, but the
moonlight throws a moderate brightness into the room. It is empty.
Several days have passed since the occurrences in the fourth act._
_A candle is lit in the small adjoining room; at the end of a few
seconds HENSCHEL enters, carrying the candle in a candlestick of tin.
He wears leathern breeches but his feet are cased in bedroom
slippers. Slowly he approaches the table, gazes hesitatingly first
backward, then toward the window, finally puts the candlestick on the
table and sits down by the window. He leans his chin on his hand and
stares at the moon._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Invisible, from the adjoining chamber, calls:_] Husband! Husband! What
are you doin' out there?--the same mortal foolishness all the time!
--[_She looks in, but half-clad._] Where are you? Come 'n go to bed! 'Tis
time to sleep! To-morrow you won't be able to go out again! You'll be
lyin' like a sack o' meal and everythin' 'll go upside down in the yard.
[_She comes out, half-clad as she is, and approaches HENSCHEL
hesitatingly and fearfully._] What are you doin', eh?
HENSCHEL
--Me?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Why are you sittin' there an' not sayin' a word?
HENSCHEL
I'm lookin' at the clouds.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, no, my goodness; it's enough to confuse a person's head! What's to be
seen up there, I'd like to know! The same worry, night after night.
There's no rest in the world for nobody no more. What are you starin' at?
Say somethin', won't you?
HENSCHEL
Up there!... That's where they are!
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're dreaming, eh? You, Wilhelm, wake up! Lay down in your bed an' go
to sleep. There's nothin' but clouds up there!
HENSCHEL
Anybody that has eyes c'n see what there is!
MRS. HENSCHEL
An' anybody that gets confused in his mind goes crazy.
HENSCHEL
I'm not confused.
MRS. HENSCHEL I'm not sayin' that you are! But if you go on actin' this
way, you will be!
[_She shivers, pulls on a jacket, and stirs the ashes in the oven
with a poker._
HENSCHEL
What time is it?
MRS. HENSCHEL
A quarter of two.
HENSCHEL
You've got a watch hangin' to you; it used to hang behind the door.
MRS. HENSCHEL
What fancies is you goin' to have next? 'Tis hangin' where it always did.
HENSCHEL
[_Rising._] I think I'll go over to the stables a bit.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I tells you to go to bed, or I'll raise an alarm. You got nothin' to do
in the stable now! 'Tis night, an' in bed is where you belong!
HENSCHEL
[_Remains standing quietly and looking at HANNE._] Where's Gustel?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What are you botherin' for? She's lyin' in bed asleep! What are you
always worritin' over the girl for? She don't lack for nothin'! I don't
do nothin' to her!
HENSCHEL
She don't lack for nothin'. She's gone to bed. She's gone to sleep
betimes--Gustel has. I don't mean Berthel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Wailing, stuffs her apron into her mouth._] I'll run away! I won't stay
here!
HENSCHEL
--Go to bed, go! I'll come too. Your cryin' can't help no more now. 'Tis
our Lord alone knows whose fault it is. You can't help it; you don't need
to cry.--Our Lord an' me--we two, we knows.
_[He turns the key in the door._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Hastily turning it back again._] Why d'you lock the door? I won't stand
bein' locked in.
HENSCHEL
I don't rightly know why I turned the key.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Them people has gone an' addled your brains for you! They'll have to
answer some day for the things they've put into your head! I took as good
care o' your girl as I did o' my own. She wouldn't ha' died o' that! But
I can't wake the dead. If a body is to die, she dies--in this world.
There's no holdin' people like that; they has to go. There never was much
strength in Gustel--you know that as well as I. Why do you go axin' me
an' lookin' at me as if I done God knows what to her!
HENSCHEL
[_Suspiciously._] Maybe you did somethin'. 'Tis not impossible.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Beside herself._] Oh, if somebody'd foretold this--I'd ha' gone beggin'
my bread first. No, no, O my goodness, if I'd ha' known that! To have to
listen to things like that! Didn't I want to go? An' who kept me back?
Who held me fast in the house here? I could ha' made my livin' any time!
I wasn't afraid; I could always work. But you didn't let up. Now I got my
reward. Now _I_ got to suffer for it!
HENSCHEL
'Tis true, maybe, that you has to suffer for it. Things comes _as_ they
come. What c'n a body do?
[_He locks the door again._
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're to leave the door open, Wilhelm, or I'll cry for help!
HENSCHEL
--Sh! Keep still! Did you hear? There's somethin' runnin' along the
passage. D'you hear? Now it goes to the washstand. D'you hear the
splashin'? She's standin' there an' washin' herself!
MRS. HENSCHEL
You! Wilhelm! You're dreamin'! The wash-stand is in here!
HENSCHEL
That's just it! I know very well! They can't deceive me. I know what I
know, [_Hurriedly._] That's all I say.--Come, come, let's go to bed.
Time'll show.
[_While he approaches the door of the next room, Mrs. HENSCHEL softly
unlocks the door to the hall and slips out._
HENSCHEL
[_Taking down a whip from the frame of the door._] Why, that's my old
Triest whip! Where does that old thing come from? I haven't seen it for
over a year. That was bought in mother's time. [_He listens._] What d'you
say? Eh?--O' course ... Certainly.--Nothin'!--Well, s'posin'! An' why
not? 'Tis well!--I know what I has to do!--I won't be stubborn.--You let
that be too.
_SIEBENHAAR enters by the door which is slightly ajar. By means of
gestures he signifies to WERMELSKIRCH, who follows him, that the
latter is to remain behind, also to MRS. HENSCHEL. He is fully clad
except that he wears a silk kerchief instead of a collar.
WERMELSKIRCH is in his dressing-gown._
SIEBENHAAR
Good evening, Mr. Henschel! What? Are you still up? You're not well, eh?
What's the matter with you?
HENSCHEL
[_After he has, for several seconds, regarded him with perplexity;
simply:_] I just can't sleep. I don't get sleepy at all! I'd like to take
some medicine, if I knew any. I don't know how it comes. God knows!
SIEBENHAAR
I'll tell you somethin', old friend: You go quietly to bed now, and
to-morrow, real early, I'll send the doctor in. You must really take some
serious step now.
HENSCHEL
No doctor won't be able to help me.
SIEBENHAAR
You mustn't say that; we'll see about that! Doctor Richter knows his
business. My wife couldn't sleep for weeks; her head ached as if it would
burst. Last Monday she took a powder, and now she sleeps all night like
the dead.
HENSCHEL
Yes, yes ... well, well ... 'Tis possible! I'd like it well enough if I
could sleep.--Is the madam reel sick?
SIEBENHAAR
Oh, we're all a little under the weather. When once Monday is past,
everything will straighten out again.
HENSCHEL
I s'pose you has to turn over the property on Monday.
SIEBENHAAR
Yes, I hope it will be possible to arrange it by Monday. In the meantime
the work is heaping up so--what with writing and making the
inventory--that I scarcely get out of my clothes. But come now, Henschel,
and go to bed. One man has one trouble and another has another. Life is
no joke and we must all see how we can best fight our way through. And
even if many strange thoughts pass through your head--don't take them to
heart so!
HENSCHEL
Thank you many times, Mr. Siebenhaar. Don't take anythin' in ill part,
please. An' good luck to you an' your wife!
SIEBENHAAR
We'll see each other again to-morrow, Henschel. You owe me no thanks for
anything. We've done each other many a service in the years that we've
lived together here. And those services compensate for each other. We
were good friends and, surely, we will remain such.
HENSCHEL
[_Silently takes a few steps toward the window and looks out._]--Ah,
them's queer things here. Time don't stand still in this world. Little
Karl, he never came to see us no more ... I can't make no objection.
Maybe you was right. The lad couldn't ha' learned nothin' good here.
'Twas different--once!
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, I don't know what you mean now!
HENSCHEL
An' you didn't cross my threshold neither. 'Tis nine months since you
did.
SIEBENHAAR
I had too much to worry me; that's all.
HENSCHEL
Those were the very times you used to come before. No, no, I know. You
were right. An' the people are right too--all of 'em. I can't take no
pride in myself no more.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, you must take some rest now.
HENSCHEL
No, no; we c'n talk about it a bit. You see, I know 'tis all my fault--I
know that, an' with that we can let it be. But before I went an' took
this woman--Hanne, I mean--before that it all began ... slowly it began,
slowly--but downhill right along. First thing, a good bonehandled whip
broke. After that, I remember it right well, I drove over my dog an' he
died. 'Twas the best little dog I had. Then, one right after another,
three o' my horses died; an' one of 'em was the fine stallion that cost
me five hundred crowns. An' then, last of all ... my wife died. I noticed
it well enough in my own thoughts that fate was against me. But when my
wife went away from me, I had a minute in my own mind when I thought to
myself: Now it's enough. There's not much else that c'n be taken from me.
But you see, there was somethin' else.--I don't want to talk about
Gustel. A man loses first his wife an' then a child--that's common. But
no: a snare was laid for me an' I stepped into it.
SIEBENHAAR
Who laid a snare for you?
HENSCHEL
Maybe the devil; maybe, too, somebody else. It's throttlin' me--that's
certain.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
That's a most unhappy notion of yours ...
HENSCHEL
An' I'm denyin' nothin'. A bad man I've come to be, only it's no fault o'
mine. I just, somehow, stumbled into it all. Maybe it's my fault too. You
c'n say so if you want to. Who knows? I should ha' kept a better watch.
But the devil is more cunnin' than me. I just kept on straight ahead.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, you're just your own worst enemy. You're fighting phantoms
which have no existence at any time or place. The devil has done nothing
to you, nor have you stepped into any snare. And no one is throttling you
either. That is all nonsense. And such fancies are dangerous.
HENSCHEL
We'll see; we c'n wait an' see.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, tell me something definite. You won't be able to do it, however you
try. You are neither bad, as you say, nor are you burdened by any guilt.
HENSCHEL
Ah, I know better.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, what is your guilt?
HENSCHEL
Here stood the bed. An' she was lyin' in it. An' here I gave her my
promise. I gave her my promise an' I've broken it!
SIEBENHAAR
What promise was that?
HENSCHEL
You know well enough!--I broke it an' when I did that, I was lost. I was
done for. The game was up.--An' you see: now she can't find no rest.
SIEBENHAAR
Are you speaking of your dead wife?
HENSCHEL
'Tis of her, of her exackly that I'm speakin'. She can't find no rest in
the grave. She comes an' she goes an' she finds no rest.--I curry the
horses; there she stands. I take a sieve from the feed-bin, an' I see her
sittin' behind the door. I mean to go to bed in the little room; 'tis she
that's lyin' in the bed an' lookin' at me.--She's hung a watch aroun' my
neck; she knocks at the wall; she scratches on the panes.--She puts her
finger on my breast an' I'm that smothered, I has to gasp for air. No,
no, I know best. You got to go through a thing like that before you know
what it is. You can't tell about It. I've gone through a deal--you c'n
believe me.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, this is my last word to you: Gather all the strength you have
in you; plant yourself firmly on both legs. Go and consult a physician.
Tell yourself that you are ill, very ill, but drive these phantoms away.
They are mere cobwebs of the brain, mere fancies.
HENSCHEL
That's what you said that there time, too. Just so or somethin' like it
you said.
SIEBENHAAR
Very likely, and I'm willing to stand by it now. What you did in the
matter of your marriage, it was your entire right to do. There was no
question of any sin or guilt.
_WERMELSKIRCH steps forward._
WERMELSKIRCH
Henschel, come over to me. We'll light the gas and play cards. We'll
drink beer or whatever you want to and smoke a pipe with it; then the
ghosts can come if they want to. In two hours it will be bright daylight.
Then we can drink some coffee and take a walk. The devil is in this if
you can't be made to be your old self again.
HENSCHEL
Maybe so; we c'n try it all right.
WERMELSKIRCH
Well then, come along.
HENSCHEL
I won't go to your place no more.
WERMELSKIRCH
On account of that little nonsense the other day? That was only a
misunderstanding. And all that has been cleared up. I simply won't let
Hauffe come in any more. The fellow is always drunk; that's a fact.
Things are often said in heat that simply enter at one ear and pass out
at the other. And that's the way to treat such incidents, I always do.
HENSCHEL
An' that'd be best too. You're quite right. But no--I won't be comin'
into the barroom no more. I'm goin' to travel about a good bit, I think.
Maybe they won't follow me all roun'. An' now sleep well. I'm feelin'
sleepy too.
SIEBENHAAR
How would it be, Henschel, if you came up with me? There's light upstairs
and my office is heated. There we can all three play a little game. I
wouldn't lie down to-night anyhow.
HENSCHEL
Yes, yes; we could be doin' that together. 'Tis long since I've touched a
card.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That's right. Go on up. You wouldn't be able to sleep nohow.
HENSCHEL
I'm not goin'! Y' understand me now?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, if you're goin' to stay, then I won't. God knows what you'll be up
to this night. You'll begin to be playin' aroun' with knives again. Yes,
that's what he did yesterday. A body's not sure o' her life no more.
HENSCHEL
You won't see me goin' up there. He advised me to do what I did, an' then
he was the first one to despise me for doin' it.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, I never despised you. You're an honourable fellow, through and
through; don't talk nonsense now. There are certain fates that come upon
men. And what one has to bear is not easy. You have grown ill, but you
have remained a good man. And for that truth I'll put my hand in the
fire!
HENSCHEL
Maybe that's true too, Mr. Siebenhaar.--Let it be; we'll talk about
somethin' else. 'Tisn't your fault; I always said that. An' I can't blame
my brother-in law neither. He knows where he gets all that from, 'Tis she
herself goes roun' to people an' tells 'em. She's everywhere--now here
an' now there. I s'pose she was with her brother too.
WERMELSKIRCH
Who is it that goes about among people? Not a soul is thinking of that
affair of the other night, That's quite forgotten by this time.
HENSCHEL
It sticks to me--it does--turn it any way you please. _She_ knows how to
go about it. She's everywhere, an' she'll persuade folks. An' even, if
people was goin' to be silent for my sake an' wasn't after me like so
many dogs--nothin' c'n do any good. It'll stick to me.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, we won't go away until you've put that, out of your mind. You
must calm, yourself entirely.
HENSCHEL
Oh, I'm sensible now an' quiet, reel quiet.
SIEBENHAAR
Very well. In that case we can talk quite frankly. You see for yourself
how your wife repents. That waiter fellow is gone; he's far away by this
time and you'll never set your eyes on him again. Anyone may fall into
sin--no matter who it is. And so take each other's hands. Bury that
matter, hide it out of sight and be at peace.
HENSCHEL
I don't has to make no peace with her. [_To HANNE._] I c'n give you my
hand! I don't mind. That you've gone an' made a mistake--the Lord c'n
judge that in this world. I won't condemn you on that account.--If only
... about Gustel ... if only we could know somethin' ... about that ...
for certain!
MRS. HENSCHEL
You c'n both kill me this minute. May I drop dead if I did any harm to
Gustel!!
HENSCHEL
That's what I've been sayin': It'll stick to me.--Well, we c'n talk it
over again to-morrow. Before we get through talkin' about that, many a
drop o' water'll have time to run into the sea, I'm thinkin'.
WERMELSKIRCH
Why don't you build a comfortable fire and cook a cup of hot coffee.
After rain comes the sunshine. That's the way it is between married
people. There will be storms in every marriage. But after the storm
everything grows greener. The main thing is: Bye, baby, bye--[_He
imitates the gesture of one rocking a child in his arms._]--That's the
right way. That's the thing that you two must get for yourselves.
[_Jovially patting HENSCHEL'S shoulder._] That's what the old man likes.
You two must get together and buy a toy like that. Confound it, Henschel!
It would be queer if that weren't easy. A giant of a man like you! Good
night all.
SIEBENHAAR
Everything changes. One must have courage.
WERMELSKIRCH
Just keep cool and dress warmly--that's it!
_SIEBENHAAR and WERMELSKIRCH withdraw. HENSCHEL goes slowly to the
door and is about to lock it again._
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're to leave that open!
HENSCHEL
All right; I don't mind.--What are you doin' there?
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Who has been bending down before the oven, draws herself up quickly._]
I'm makin' a fire. Don't you see that?
HENSCHEL
[_Sitting down, heavily by the table._] For my part you c'n light the
lamp too.
[_He pulls out the drawer of the table._
MRS. HENSCHEL
What are you lookin' for?
HENSCHEL
Nothin'.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Then you c'n push it back in. [_She steps forward and shuts the drawer._]
I s'ppose you want to wake Berthel up?
[_Pause._]
HENSCHEL
Monday he's goin'. Then we'll be alone.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who's goin' on Monday?
HENSCHEL
Siebenhaar. The Lord knows how we'll get along with the new owner.
MRS. HENSCHEL
He's a rich man. He won't borrow money of you at least.
HENSCHEL
--Hanne, one of us two'll have to go. One of us two. Yes, yes,'tis true.
You c'n look at me. That can't be changed.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I'm to go away? You want to drive me away?
HENSCHEL
We'll see about that later--_who_ has to go! Maybe 'twill be me, an'
maybe 'twill be you. If I was to go ... I know this for sure--you
wouldn't be scared about yourself. You're able to look after the business
like a man.--But 's I said: it don't matter about me.
MRS. HENSCHEL
If one of us has to go--I'll go. I'm still strong enough. I'll leave an'
nobody needn't see me no more. The horses an' the waggons--they're all
yours. You got the business from your father an' you can't go an' leave
it. I'll go an' then the trouble'll be over.
HENSCHEL
'Tis easy sayin' that. We got to consider one thing at a time.
MRS. HENSCHEL
There's no use in drawin' it out. What's over and done with is over.
HENSCHEL
[_Rising heavily and going toward the adjoining room._] An' Berthel?
What's to become o' the lass?
MRS. HENSCHEL
She'll have to go to father, over in Quolsdorf.
HENSCHEL
[_At the door of the bedroom._] Let it be. To-morrow is another day.
Everythin' changes, as Siebenhaar says. To-morrow, maybe, everythin' 'll
look different.
[_Pause._]
HENSCHEL
[_Invisible in the next room._] Berthel is sweating all over again.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That won't do her no harm to be sweatin' a bit. The drops are runnin'
down my neck too. Oh, what a life--[_She opens a window._]--a body'd
rather be dead.
HENSCHEL
What are you talkin' about? I don't understand.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Lie down on your side an' leave me alone.
HENSCHEL
Are you comin' too?
MRS. HENSCHEL
It's most day now.
[_She winds the clock._]
HENSCHEL
Who's windin' the clock?
MRS. HENSCHEL
You're to keep still now. If Berthel was to wake up it'd be a fine to do.
She'd howl for half an hour. [_She sits down at the table and leans both
elbows upon it._] 'Twould be best if a body got up an' went away,
_SIEBENHAAR peers in._
SIEBENHAAR I'm lookin' in once more. Is your husband calmer now?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Yes, yes, he lay down to sleep. [_She calls._] Husband! Wilhelm!
SIEBENHAAR
Sh! You'd better be grateful. Hurry and go to bed yourself.
MRS. HENSCHEL
There's nothin' else left to do. I'll go an' try. [_She goes to the door
of the bedroom, stands still as if spellbound and listens._] Wilhelm! You
might answer.--[_Louder and more frightened._] Wilhelm! You're not to
frighten me this way! Maybe you think I don't know that you're still
awake!!--[_In growing terror._]--Wilhelm, I tell you!... [_BERTHEL has
waked up and wails._] Berthel, you look out an' keep still! Keep still or
I don't know what'll happen!--Wilhelm! Wilhelm!
[_She almost shrieks._
SIEBENHAAR looks in again.
SIEBENHAAR
What's the matter, Mrs. Henschel?
MRS. HENSCHEL
I call an' call an' he don't answer!
SIEBENHAAR
Are you crazy? Why do you do that?
MRS. HENSCHEL
--'Tis so still ... Somethin's happened.
SIEBENHAAR
What?--[_He takes up the candle and goes toward the bedroom door._]
Henschel, have you fallen asleep?
[_He enters the bedroom._
[_Pause._]
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Not daring to follow him._] What is it? What is it? What's goin' on?
_WERMELSKIRCH looks in._
WERMELSKIRCH
Who's in there?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Mr. Siebenhaar.--'Tis so still. Nobody don't answer.--
SIEBENHAAR
[_Very pale and holding BERTHEL on his arm hurries out of the bedroom._]
Mrs. Henschel, take your child and go up to my wife.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Already with the child in her arms._] For God's sake, what has
happened?
SIEBENHAAR
You'll find that out all too soon.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_With a voice that is first repressed and at last rises to a scream._] O
God, he's done hisself some harm!
_[She runs out with the child._
WERMELSKIRCH
Shall I call the doctor?
SIEBENHAAR
Too late! He could give no help here.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
ROSE BERND
LIST OF PERSONS
BERND.
ROSE BERND.
MARTHEL.
CHRISTOPHER FLAMM.
MRS. FLAMM.
ARTHUR STRECKMANN.
AUGUST KEIL.
HAHN. HEINZEL. GOLISCH. KLEINERT. _Field Labourers_
OLD MRS. GOLISCH.
THE HEAD MAID SERVANT.
THE ASSISTANT MAID SERVANT.
A CONSTABLE.
THE FIRST ACT
_A level, fertile landscape. It is a clear, warm, sunny morning in
May. Diagonally from the middle to the foreground extends a path. The
fields on either side are raised slightly above it. In the immediate
foreground a small potato patch on which the green shoots are already
visible. A shallow ditch, covered with field flowers, separates the
path from the fields. To the left of the path on a slope about six
feet in height an old cherry tree, to the right hazelnut and
whitethorn bushes. Nearly parallel with this path, but at some
distance in the background, the course of a brook is marked by
willows and alder trees. Solitary groves of ancient trees add a
park-like appearance to the landscape. In the background, left, from
among bushes and tree-tops arise the gables and the church steeple of
the village. A crucifix stands by the wayside in the foreground,
right. It is Sunday._
_ROSE BERND, a beautiful, vigorous peasant girl of twenty-two
emerges, excited and blushing, from the bushes at the left and sits
down on the slope, after having peered shyly and eagerly in all
directions. Her skirt is caught up, her feet are bare, as are her
arms and neck. She is busily braiding one of her long, blonde
tresses. Shortly after her appearance a man comes stealthily from the
bushes on the other side. It is the landowner and magistrate,
CHRISTOPHER FLAMM. He, too, gives the impression of being embarrassed
but at the same time amused. His personality is not undignified; his
dress betrays something of the sportsman, nothing of the dandy--laced
boots, hunter's hose, a leather bottle slung by a strap across his
shoulder. Altogether FLAMM is robust, unspoiled, vivid and
broad-shouldered and creates a thoroughly pleasant impression. He
sits down on the slope at a carefully considered distance from ROSE.
They look at each other silently and then break out into
inextinguishable laughter._
FLAMM
[_With rising boldness and delight sings ever louder and more heartily,
beating time like a conductor._]
"In heath and under greenwood tree,
There is the joy I choose for me!
I am a huntsman bold
I am a huntsman bold!"
ROSE
[_Is at first frightened by his singing; then, more and more amused, her
embarrassment gives way to laughter._] Oh, but Mr. Flamm ...
FLAMM
[_With a touch of jaunty boldness._] Sing with me, Rosie!
ROSE
Oh, but I can't sing, Mr. Flamm.
FLAMM
Ah, that isn't true, Rosie. Don't I hear you often and often singing out
on the farm:
"A huntsman from the Rhineland ..." Well!
"Rides through the forest green."
ROSE
But I don't know that song a bit, Mr. Flamm.
FLAMM
You're not to say Mr. Flamm! Come now!
"Girlie, come and move
Here to my favourite si-i-ide!"
ROSE
[_Anxiously._] The people will be comin' from church in a minute, Mr.
Flamm.
FLAMM
Let 'em come! [_He gets up and takes his rifle from the hollow cherry
tree to the left._] I'd better hang it around again anyhow. So.--And now
my hat and my pipe! Good. They can come whenever they please. [_He has
slung his gun across his shoulder, straightened his hat which is
ornamented with a cock's feather, taken a short pipe out of his pocket
and put it between his lips._] Look at the wild cherries. They're thick.
[_He picks up a handful of them and shows them to ROSE. With heartfelt
conviction:_] Rosie, I wish you were my wife!
ROSE
Goodness, Mr. Flamm!
FLAMM
I do, so help me!
ROSE
[_Nervously trying to restrain him_] Oh no, no!
FLAMM
Rosie, give me your dear, good, faithful little paw. [_He holds her hand
and sits down._] By heaven, Rosie! Look here, I'm a deucedly queer
fellow! I'm damned fond of my dear old woman; that's as true as ...
ROSE
[_Hiding her face in her arm._] You make me want to die o' shame.
FLAMM
Damned fond of her I tell you ... but--[_His patience snaps._]--this
doesn't concern her a bit!
ROSE
[_Again tempted to laugh against her will._] Oh, but how you talk, Mr.
Flamm!
FLAMM
[_Filled with hearty admiration of her._] Oh, you're a lovely woman! You
are lovely! You see: my wife and I ... that's a queer bit of business,
that is. Not the kind of thing that can be straightened out in a minute.
You know Henrietta ... She's sick. Nine solid years she's been bedridden;
at most she creeps around in a wheel chair.--Confound it all, what good
is that sort o' thing to me?
[_He grasps her head and kisses her passionately._
ROSE
[_Frightened under his kisses._] The people are comin' from church!
FLAMM
They're not thinking of it! Why are you so worried about the people in
church to-day?
ROSE
Because August's in church too.
FLAMM
That long-faced gentry is always in church! Where else should they be?
But, Rosie, it isn't even half past ten yet; and when the service is over
the bells ring. No, and you needn't be worried about my wife either.
ROSE
Oh, Christopher, she keeps lookin' at a body sometimes, so you want to
die o' shame.
FLAMM
You don't know my old lady; that's it. She's bright; she can look through
three board walls! But on that account ...! She's mild and good as a lamb
... even if she knew what there is between us; she wouldn't take our
heads off.
ROSE
Oh, no! For heaven's sake, Mr. Flamm!
FLAMM
Nonsense, Rosie! Have a pinch, eh? [_He takes snuff._] I tell you once
more: I don't care about anything! [_Indignantly._] What is a man like me
to do? What, I ask you? No, don't misunderstand me! Surely you know how
seriously I think of our affair. Let me talk ahead once in a while.
ROSE
Mr. Christie, you're so good to me ...! [_With a sudden ebullition of
tenderness, tears in her eyes, she kisses FLAMM'S hand._] So good ... but
...
FLAMM
[_Moved and surprised._] Good to you? No wonder! Deuce take me, Rosie.
That's very little, being good to you. If I were free, I'd marry you. You
see, I've lost the ordinary way in life! Not to speak of past affairs!
I'm fit for ... well, I wonder what I _am_ fit for! I might have been a
royal chief forester to-day! And yet, when the governor died, I went
straight home and threw over my career. I wasn't born for the higher
functions of society. All this even is too civilised for me. A block
house, a rifle, bear's ham for supper and a load of lead sent into the
breeches of the first comer--that would be ...!
ROSE
But that can't be had, Mr. Flamm! And ... things has got to end sometime.
FLAMM
[_Half to himself._] Confound it all to everlasting perdition! Isn't
there time enough left for that spindle-shanked hypocrite? Won't there be
far too much left for that fellow anyway? No> girlie, I'd send him about
his business.
ROSE
Oh, but I've kept him danglin' long enough. Two years an' more he's been
waitin'. Now he's urgent; he won't wait any longer. An' things can't go
on this way no more.
FLAMM
[_Enraged._] That's all nonsense; you understand. First you worked
yourself to the bone for your father. You haven't the slightest notion of
what life is, and now you want to be that bookbinder's pack horse. I
don't see how people can be so vulgar and heartless as to make capital
out of another human being in that way! If that's all you're looking
forward to, surely there's time enough.
ROSE
No, Christie ... It's easy to talk that way, Mr. Flamm! But if you was
put into such circumstances, you'd be thinkin' different too.--I know how
shaky father's gettin'! An' the landlord has given us notice too. A new
tenant is to move in, I believe! An' then it's father's dearest wish that
everythin's straightened out.
FLAMM
Then let your father marry August Keil, if he's so crazy about the
fellow. Why, he's positively obsessed. It's madness the way he's taken
with that man!
ROSE
You're unjust, Mr. Flamm; that's all.
FLAMM
Say rather ... Well, what? What was I going to say?... I can't bear that
sanctimonious phiz! My gorge rises at the sight of him. God forgive me,
Rosie, and forgive you especially! Why shouldn't I be open with you? It
may be that he has his merits. They say, too, that he's saved up a few
shillings. But that's no reason why you should go and drown yourself in
his paste-pot!
ROSE
No, Christopher! Don't talk that way! I musn't listen to such talk, the
dear Lord knows!--August, he's been through a lot!--His sickness an' his
misfortunes--that goes right to a person's soul ...
FLAMM
A man can never understand you women folks. You're an intelligent and
determined girl, and suddenly, on one point, your stupidity is simply
astonishing--goose-like, silly! It goes straight to your soul, does it?
From that point of view you might as well marry an ex-convict, if pity or
stupidity are reasons. You ought to raise a bit of a row with your father
for once! What's hurting August? He grew up in the orphan house and
succeeded in making his way for all that. If you won't have him, his
brethren in the Lord will find him another. They're expert enough at
that!
ROSE
[_With decision._] No, that won't do. And--it has got to be, Mr.
Flamm.--I'm not sorry for what's happened, though I've had my share o'
sufferin' in quiet. All to myself, I mean. But never mind. An' nothin'
can change that now. But it's got to come to an end some day--it can't
never an' never go on this way.
FLAMM
Can't go on? What do you mean by that exactly?
ROSE
Just ... because things is no different in this world. I can't put him
off no longer; an' father wouldn't bear with it. An' he's quite right in
that matter. Dear Lord ha' mercy! 'Tis no easier on that account! But
when it'll all be off a body's soul ... I don't know--[_She touches her
breast._] they calls it, I believe, strain o' the heart, Oh, times are
when I has real pains in my heart ... An' a person can't feel that way
all the time.
FLAMM
Well, then there's nothing more to be done just now. It's time for me to
be getting home. [_He gets up and throws the rifle across his shoulder._]
Another time then, Rosie. Good-bye!
_ROSE stares straight in front of her without answering._
FLAMM
What's the matter, Rosie? Won't there be another time?
_ROSE shakes her head._
FLAMM
What, have I hurt you, Rosie?
ROSE
There'll never be another time--like this--Mr. Flamm.
FLAMM
[_With despairing passion._] Girl, I don't care if it costs me everything
...
[_He embraces her and kisses her again and again._
ROSE
[_Suddenly in extreme terror._] For the love o' ... some one's comin',
Mr. Flamm!
_FLAMM in consternation, jumps up and disappears behind a bush._
_ROSE gets up hastily, straightens her hair and her dress and looks
anxiously about her. As no one appears she takes up the hoe and
begins to weed the potato patch. After a while there approaches,
unnoticed by her, the machinist ARTHUR STRECKMANN dressed in his
Sunday coat. He is what would generally be called a handsome
man--large, broad-shouldered, his whole demeanour full of
self-importance. He has a blond beard that extends far down his
chest. His garments, from his jauntily worn huntsman's hat to his
highly polished boots, his walking coat and his embroidered
waistcoat, are faultless and serve to show, in connection with his
carriage, that STRECKMANN not only thinks very well of himself but is
scrupulously careful of his person and quite conscious of his unusual
good looks._
STRECKMANN
[_As though but now becoming conscious of ROSE'S presence, in an
affectedly well-modulated voice._] Good day, Rosie.
ROSE
[_Turns frightened._] Good day, Streckmann. [_In an uncertain voice_]
Why, where did you come from? From church?
STRECKMANN
I went away a bit early.
ROSE
[_Excitedly and reproachfully._] What for? Couldn't you put up with the
sermon?
STRECKMANN
[_Boldly._] Oh, it's such beautiful weather out. An' that's why! I left
my wife in the church too. A feller has got to be by himself once in a
while.
ROSE
I'd rather be in church.
STRECKMANN
That's where the women folks belongs.
ROSE
I shouldn't wonder if you had your little bundle o' sins. You might ha'
been prayin' a bit.
STRECKMANN
I'm on pretty good terms with the Lord. He don't keep such very
particular accounts o' my sins.
ROSE
Well, well!
STRECKMANN
No, he don't bother with me much.
ROSE
A vain, fool--that's what you is!
_STRECKMANN laughs in a deep and affected tone._
ROSE
If you was a real man, you wouldn't have to go an' beat your wife at
home.
STRECKMANN
[_With a gleam in his eyes._] That shows that I'm a real man! That shows
it! That's proper! A man's got to show you women that he's the master.
ROSE
Don't be fancyin' such foolishness.
STRECKMANN
That's so, for all you say. Right _is_ right. An' I never failed to get
what I was wantin' that way.
_ROSE laughs constrainedly._
STRECKMANN
People says you're goin' to leave Flamm's service.
ROSE
I'm not in Flamm's service at all. You see now that I'm doin' other
things.
STRECKMANN
You were helpin' at Flamm's no later'n yesterday.
ROSE
Maybe so! Maybe I was or maybe I wasn't! Look after your own affairs.
STRECKMANN
Is it true that your father has moved?
ROSE
Where to?
STRECKMANN
With August over into Lachmann's house.
ROSE
August hasn't even bought the house yet. Those people--they knows more
than I.
STRECKMANN
An' they says too that you'll be celebratin' your weddin' soon.
ROSE
They can be talkin' for all I care.
STRECKMANN
[_After a brief silence approaches her and stands before her with legs
wide apart._] Right you are! You can marry him any time. A fine girl like
you don't need to hurry so; she can have a real good time first! I
laughed right in his face when he told me. There's no one believes him.
ROSE
[_Quickly._] Who's been sayin' it?
STRECKMANN
August Keil.
ROSE
August himself? An' this is what he gets from his silly talkin'.
STRECKMANN
[_After a silence._] August he's such a peevish kind....
ROSE
I don't want to hear nothing. Leave me alone! Your quarrels don't concern
me! One o' you is no better'n another.
STRECKMANN
Well, in some things--when it comes to bein' bold.
ROSE
Oh, heavens! That boldness o' yours. We knows that. Go about an' asks the
women folks a bit. No, August isn't that kind.
STRECKMANN
[_Laughs with lascivious boastfulness._] I'm not denyin' that.
ROSE
An' you couldn't.
STRECKMANN
[_Looking at her sharply through half-closed lids._] It's not comfortable
to make a fool o' me. What I wants of a woman--I gets.
ROSE
[_Jeeringly._] Oho!
STRECKMANN
Yes, oho! What would you wager, Rosie! You been makin' eyes at me many a
time.
[_He has approached and offered to put his arms around her._
ROSE
Don't be foolish, Streckmann! Keep your hands off o' me!
STRECKMANN
If it was....
ROSE
[_Thrusts him away._] Streckmann! I've been tellin' you! I don't want to
have nothin' to do with you men. Go your own way.
STRECKMANN
What am I doin' to you?--[_After a silence with a smile that is half
malicious, half embarrassed._] You wait! You'll be comin' to me one o'
these days! I'm tellin' you: you'll be comin' to me yourself some day!
You can act as much like a saint as you wants to.--D'you see that cross?
D'you see that tree? Confound it! There's all kinds o' things! I've been
no kind o' a saint myself! But ... right under a cross ... you might be
sayin' just that ... I'm not so very partic'lar, but I'd take shame at
that. What would your father be sayin' or August? Now, just f'r instance:
this pear tree is hollow. Well an' good. There was a rifle in there.
ROSE
[_Has been listening more and more intently in the course of her work.
Deadly pale and quivering she bursts out involuntarily:_] What are you
sayin'?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'!--I'm sayin' nothin' more.--But when a feller hasn't no notion of
nothin' an' is thinkin' no ill, a wench like you acts as high an' mighty!
ROSE
[_Losing self-control and leaping in front of him in her terror._] What
is't you say?
STRECKMANN
[_Calmly returning her terrible gaze._] I said: A wench like you.
ROSE
An' what's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
That's got no special meanin'.
ROSE
[_Clenches her fists and pierces him with her eyes in an intense passion
of rage, hate, terror and consternation until in the consciousness of her
powerlessness she drops her arms and utters almost whiningly the words:_]
I'll know how to get my good right about this!
[_Holding her right arm before her weeping eyes and wiping her face
with the left, she returns, sobbing brokenly, to her work._
STRECKMANN
[_Looks after her with his old expression of malicious coldness and
determination. Gradually he is seized with a desire to laugh and finally
bursts out:_] That's the way things go! Don't worry a bit.--What do you
take me for anyhow, Rose? What's the row about? This kind o' thing don't
do no harm! Why shouldn't a person fool her neighbours? Why not? Who made
'em so stupid? Them as can do it are the finest women in the world! Of
course, a man like me knows how things are! You can believe me--I've
always known about you.
ROSE
[_Beside herself._] Streckmann! I'll do myself some harm! Do you hear? Or
else go away from our bit o' patch! Go ... I ... something awful will
happen, I tell you!
STRECKMANN
[_Sits down and claps his flat hands over his knees._] For goodness'
sake! Don't carry on so! D'you think I'll be goin' about everywhere an'
tellin' what I know an' rakin' you over the coals? How does it concern
me, I'd like to know, what your goin's on are?
ROSE
I'll go home an' hang myself on a beam! That's what Mary Schubert did
too.
STRECKMANN
That was a different thing with her! That girl had different things on
her conscience! An' I didn't have nothin' to do with her.--But if every
woman was to go an' hang herself on account o' what you've done--there
wouldn't be no more women in this world. That sort o' thing happens
wherever you look--everywhere--that's the way things is. O' course, I
have to laugh. That father o' yours, he carries himself so high! The way
he stares at a feller that's gone a bit off the narrow way. It's enough
to make you want to go an' hide your face. Well--people ought to begin at
home ...
ROSE
[_Trembling in the terror of her heart._] O dear Lord, have mercy!
STRECKMANN
Can you deny that I'm right? You people stick in piety up to the very
eyes--your father an' August Keil an' you too! A feller like me can't
compete with you there.
ROSE
[_With a new outburst of despair._] It's a lie ... a lie! You saw
nothing!
STRECKMANN
No? Saw nothing? Well, I'll be...! Then I must ha' been dreamin'. That's
what it must ha' been! If that wasn't Squire Flamm from Diessdorf! I
haven't had a drop o' anythin' to-day. Didn't he play at drivin' you by
the braids o' your hair? Didn't he throw you into the grass? [_With
uncontrollable, hard laughter._] He had a good hold on you!
ROSE
Streckmann, I'll beat your head in with my hoe!
STRECKMANN
[_Still laughing._] Listen to that! What now? You're not goin' to cut up
so rough! Why shouldn't you ha' done it? I don't blame you. First come,
first served: that's the way o' the world.
ROSE
[_Weeping and moaning in her helpless grief and yet working
convulsively._] A feller like that, presumes to ...!
STRECKMANN
[_Enraged and brutally._] It's you that presumes! 'Tisn't me that does!
Not that I'd mind presumin' a good deal. If Flamm's good enough, it's
certain that I am!
ROSE
[_Sobbing and crying out in her despair._] I've been a decent girl all my
life long! Let anybody come an' say somethin' against me if he can! I
took care o' three little brothers an' sisters! Three o'clock in the
mornin' I've gotten up, an' not so much as taken a drop o' milk! An'
people knows that! Every child knows it!
STRECKMANN
Well, you needn't make such a noise about it! The bells is ringin' and
the people is comin' from church. You might be a bit sociable with a
feller. You people are just burstin' with pride. Maybe it's true ...
things look as if it was. I'm not sayin' but what you're a good worker
an' a good saver. But otherwise you're no better'n other folks.
ROSE
[_Gazing into the distance; in extreme fear._] Isn't that August that's
comin' there?
STRECKMANN
[_Looks in the same direction toward the village. Contemptuously_:]
Where? Oh, yes, that's him! There they both are! They're just walkin'
around the parson's garden. Well, what about it? You think I ought to be
gettin' away? I'm not afeard o' them psalm-singin' donkeys.
ROSE
[_In quivering fear._] Streckmann, I've saved up twelve crowns ...
STRECKMANN
Rosie, you know you've saved more than that.
ROSE
All right, I'll give you all my bit o' savin's! I don't care for the
money ... I'll bring it to you, to the last farthing. Streckmann, only
have pity ...
[_She seeks to grasp his hands beseechingly, but he draws them away._
STRECKMANN
I takes no money.
ROSE
Streckmann! For the sake o' all good things in the world ...
STRECKMANN
Well now, I can't see why you don't act sensible.
ROSE
If one person in the village finds that out....
STRECKMANN
It depends on you! Nobody needn't know. All you need to do is not to
force it on 'em ... [_With sudden passion._] What's at the bottom of
it?--I'm crazy about you ...
ROSE
Where's the woman or girl you're not crazy about!
STRECKMANN
Maybe it's so. I can't change things. A man like me who has to go the
round o' all the estates in the country with his threshin' machine--he
don't have worry because he's not talked about. I know best how it is
with me. Before ever Flamm came--I'm not mentionin' August--I'd thrown an
eye on you. An' nobody knows what it's cost me. [_With iron
stubbornness._] But the devil fetch me now! Come what may, Rosie! There's
no more use tryin' to joke with me! I happened to come upon somethin'
to-day!
ROSE
An' what is it?
STRECKMANN
You'll see soon enough.
_MARTHEL, ROSE'S younger sister, comes skipping along the field-path.
She is neatly dressed in her Sunday garments and is still
pronouncedly child-like._
MARTHEL
[_Calls out._] Rose, is that you? What are you doin' here?
ROSE
I've got to finish hoein' the patch. Why didn't you stop to finish it o'
Saturday?
MARTHEL
Oh, dearie me, Rosie, if father sees you!
STRECKMANN
If there's a bit o' profit in it, he won't do nothing very bad. You let
old Bernd alone for that!
MARTHEL
Who is that, Rosie?
ROSE
Oh, don't ask me!
_Old BERND and AUGUST KEIL are approaching along the field-path from
the village. The old, white-haired man, as well as the other who is
about thirty-five years old, is dressed in his Sunday coat and each
carries a hymn book. Old BERND has a white beard; his voice has a
certain softness as though he had had and been cured of a severe
pulmonary affection. One might imagine him to be a dignified retired
family coachman. AUGUST KEIL, who is a bookbinder, has a pale face,
thin, dark moustache and pointed beard. His hair is growing notably
thin and he suffers from occasional nervous twitching. He is lean,
narrow-chested; his whole appearance betrays the man of sedentary
employment._
BERND
Isn't that Rosie?
AUGUST
Yes, father Bernd.
BERND
You can't nowise make the girl stop that. When the fit takes her, she's
got to go an' toil--if it's weekday or holiday. [_He is quite near her by
this time._] Is there not time enough o' weekdays?
AUGUST
You do too much, Rosie! There's no need o' that!
BERND
If our good pastor saw that, it'd hurt him to the very soul. He wouldn't
trust his own eyes.
AUGUST
An' he's been askin' for you again.
STRECKMANN
[_Suggestively._] They say, too, as he wants her to be his housekeeper.
BERND
[_Noticing him for the first time._] Why, that's Streckmann!
STRECKMANN
Yes, here I am, life-size. That girl, she's as busy as an ant or a bee!
She'll be workin' if her sides crack. She's got no time to be sleepin' in
the church.
BERND
It's little sleepin' we does there, I tell you. You might better say that
them as are out here do the sleepin' an' don't want no awakenin'. The
Bridegroom is at hand ...
STRECKMANN
An' that's certainly true! But the bride, meantime, runs off!
AUGUST
You're in a merry mood this day.
STRECKMANN
Yes, that I am. I could hug a curbstone ... or the handle o' your
collection bag. I do feel most uncommonly jolly. I could laugh myself
sick.
BERND
[_To ROSE._] Put up your things an' we'll go home! Not that way! That way
I'm not goin' home with you! Put your hoe in the hollow of the tree!
Carryin' that o' Sunday would give offence.
AUGUST
There's them that even gads about with guns.
STRECKMANN
An' devils that take no shame carryin' a whisky-bottle.
[_He pulls his bottle out of his pocket._
AUGUST
Each man does those things on his own responsibility.
STRECKMANN
True. An' at his own expense! Come, take courage an' have a drink with me
for once.
[_He holds out the bottle to AUGUST who pays no attention to him._
BERND
You know well enough that August drinks no spirits!--Whereabouts is your
threshin' machine now?
STRECKMANN
But you, father Bernd; you can't go an' refuse to take a drop with me!
You've been a distiller yourself! My machine is on the great estate down
below.
BERND
[_Takes the bottle hesitatingly._] Just because it's you, Streckmann,
otherwise I wouldn't be touchin' it. When I was manager of the estate, I
had to do a good many things! But I never liked to distil the drink an' I
didn't touch it in them days at all.
STRECKMANN
[_To AUGUST who has placed a spade in the hollow of the cherry tree._]
You just look at that tree! Piff, paff! All you got to do is to take your
aim and let it fly.
BERND
There's people that goes hunting o' Sundays.
STRECKMANN
Squire Flamm.
BERND
Just so. We ha' met him. 'Tis bad. I'm sorry for them folks.
_STRECKMANN throws cock-chafers at ROSE._
ROSE
[_Trembling._] Streckmann!
BERND
What's wrong?
AUGUST
What's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'! We've got a little private quarrel!
AUGUST
You can have your little quarrels. But it'd be better if you had 'em
without her.
STRECKMANN
[_With malicious hostility._] You take care, August! Watch out!
BERND
Peace! Don't be quarrelsome! In God's name!
STRECKMANN
The dam' carrion always spits at me!
AUGUST
Carrion is a dead beast ...!
STRECKMANN
August, let's be at peace. Father Bernd is right; people ought to like
each other! An' it isn't Christian the way you act sour like! Come on
now! Have a drink! You're not good-lookin', your worst enemy'd have to
admit that, but you're fine when it comes to readin' an' writin' an'
you've got your affairs pretty well arranged! Well, then, here's to your
weddin'--an early one an' a merry one!
_BERND takes the bottle and drinks since AUGUST remains quite
unresponsive._
STRECKMANN
I take that real kind o' you, father Bernd.
BERND
When it comes to drinkin' to a happy weddin', I makes an exception!
STRECKMANN
Exactly! That's proper! That's right!--It isn't as if I was a horse-boy
to-day as in the old times on the estate when you had the whip hand o'
me. I've gotten to be a reputable kind o' feller. Anybody that's got a
head on his shoulders makes his way.
BERND
God bestows his favours on them he wants to.--[_To AUGUST._] Drink to a
happy weddin'.
AUGUST
[_Takes the bottle._] May God grant it! We don't have to drink to it.
STRECKMANN
[_Slapping his thigh._] An' may he give plenty o' little Augusts, so that
the grandfather can be glad. An' the oldest of 'em all must grow up to be
a squire!--But now you ought to let Rosie have a drink too.
BERND
You're weepin', Rosie. What's troublin' you?
MARTHEL
The tears keep runnin' out o' her eyes all the time.
AUGUST
[_To ROSE._] Drink a drop, so's to let him have his will.
_ROSE takes the bottle, overcoming her repugnance by a violent
effort._
STRECKMANN
Right down with it now! Let's be jolly!
_ROSE drinks trembling and hands back the bottle to AUGUST with
undisguised disgust._
BERND
[_Softly in his paternal pride to STRECKMANN._] There's a girl for you!
He'd better keep a good hold o' her.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE SECOND ACT
_The large living room in FLAMM'S house. The large, low room which is
on a level with the ground has a door at the right leading to the
outer hall. A second door in the rear hall leads into a smaller
chamber, filled with hunting implements, etc., which FLAMM calls his
den. When this door is open, garments and rifles and stuffed bird
heads are to be seen covering the walls of the smaller room. In it
stands, also, the chest of drawers in which FLAMM stores the
documents kept by him as magistrate. The large room with its three
windows on the left side, its dark beams and its furnishings creates
an impression of home-likeness and comfort. In the left corner stands
a large sofa covered with material of an old-fashioned, flowery
pattern. Before it stands an extension table of oak. Above the door
of the den hangs a glass case containing a group of stuffed
partridges. Immediately to the right of this door a key-rack with
keys. Not far from this stands a bookcase with glass doors which is
filled with books. Upon this bookcase stands a stuffed owl and next
to it hangs a cuckoo clock. A great tile oven of dappled blue
occupies the right corner of the room. In all the three windows of
the left wall are potted plants in bloom. The window beside the table
is open as well as the one farther forward. In front of the latter
MRS. FLAMM is sitting in an invalid's chair. All the windows have
mull curtains. Not far from the window nearest to the spectator there
is an old chest of drawers covered by a lace scarf upon which are to
be seen glasses, bric-a-brac and family mementos of various kinds. On
the wall above hang family photographs. Between the oven and the door
that leads to the outer hall stands an old-fashioned grand piano and
an embroidered piano-stool. The keyboard of the instrument is turned
toward the tile oven. Above the piano there are glass cases
containing a collection of butterflies. In the foreground, to the
right, a brightly polished roller-top desk of oak with a simple
chair. Several such chairs are set against the mall near the desk.
Between the windows an old armchair covered with brown leather. Above
the table a large brass lamp of English manufacture is suspended.
Above the desk hangs the large photograph of a handsome little boy of
five. The picture is in a simple wooden frame wreathed in fresh field
flowers. On top of the desk a large globe of glass covers a dish of
forget-me-nots. It is eleven o'clock in the forenoon on a magnificent
day of late spring._
_MRS. FLAMM is an attractive, matronly woman of forty. She wears a
smooth, black alpaca dress with a bodice of old-fashioned cut, a
small cap of white lace on her head, a lace collar and soft lace
cuffs which all but cover her emaciated, sensitive hands. A book and
a handkerchief of delicate material lie in her lap. MRS. FLAMM'S
features are not without magnanimity and impressiveness. Her eyes are
light blue and piercing, her forehead high, her temples broad. Her
hair, already gray and thin is plainly parted in the middle. From
time to time she strokes it gently with her finger tips. The
expression of her face betrays kindliness and seriousness without
severity. About her eyes, her nose and her mouth there is a flicker
of archness.
MRS. FLAMM
[_Looks thoughtfully out into the open, sighs, becomes absorbed in her
book for a moment, then listens and closes her book after inserting a
bookmark. Finally she turns toward the door and speaks in a slightly
raised, sympathetic voice._] Whoever is out there ... come in! [_A tap is
heard, the door to the hall is slightly opened and the head of old BERND
is seen._] Well, who is it? Ah, that's father Bernd, our deacon and
trustee. Come right in! I'm not going to bite you.
BERND
We was wantin' to speak to the squire.
[_He enters, followed by AUGUST KEIL. Both are once more in their
best clothes._
MRS. FLAMM
Well, well, you do look solemn.
BERND
Good mornin', Missis.
MRS. FLAMM
Good day to you, father Bernd.--My husband was in his den there a minute
ago. [_Referring to AUGUST._] And there is your future son-in-law too.
BERND
Yes, by God's help, Mrs. Flamm.
MRS. FLAMM
Well, then, do take a seat. I suppose you want to make official
announcement of the marriage? It's to be at last.
BERND
Yes, thanks be to God; everythin' is in readiness now.
MRS. FLAMM
I'm glad o' that. This waiting leads to very little. If something is to
be, then 'tis better to have it done! So the girl has made up her mind to
it at last?
BERND
Yes. An' it's like takin' a stone off my heart. She has kept us all
hangin' about this long time. Now she wants to hurry of her own free
will. She'd rather have the weddin' to-day than to-morrow.
MRS. FLAMM
I'm very glad of that, Mr. Keil! Very glad, indeed, Bernd. Christie! I
think my husband will be here presently! So this matter has been adjusted
at last! Well, father Bernd, I think you ought to feel that you're lucky!
You must be well content.
BERND
An' so I am! You're right indeed, Mrs. Flamm! Day before yesterday we
talked it all over. An' God has given us an especial blessin' too. For
August went to see the lady of Gnadau an' she was so extraordinar'
kind-hearted as to loan him a thousand crowns. An' with that he can go
an' buy the Lachmann house now.
MRS. FLAMM
Is that true? Is that possible? Now there you see again how life is,
father Bernd. When your master let you go without a bit o' pension or
anything for your old age, you were quite desperate and hopeless. An'
'twas an unfeeling thing to do! But now God has turned everything to
good.
BERND
So it is! But men has too little faith!
MRS. FLAMM
Well, then! Now you're well off! In the first place the house is right
opposite the church, an' then it has a good bit o' land that goes with
it! And Rose, well, I'm sure she knows how to manage. Yes, you can really
be satisfied.
BERND
The blessin's that a lady like that can spread! Next to God ... it's to
her we owe the most. If I'd been in her service an' had ruined my health
as I did workin' for my master, I wouldn't ha' had to complain.
MRS. FLAMM
You have nothing more to complain of now, Bernd.
BERND
My goodness, no! In one way not!
MRS. FLAMM
You can't count on gratitude in this world. My father was chief forester
for forty years an' when he died my mother knew want for all that.--You
have an excellent son-in-law. You can live in a pleasant house and you'll
even have your own land to work on. And that everything goes from better
to better--well, you can let your children see to that.
BERND
An' that's what I hope for too. No, I haven't no doubt o' that at all. A
man who has worked himself up in the world that way by carryin' tracts
...
MRS. FLAMM
Weren't you thinking once of being a missionary?
AUGUST
Unfortunately my health was too bad for that.
BERND
... An' learned readin' an' writin' an' his trade too the while, an' is
so upright an' Christian--well, I feel that I can lay down my head in
peace if it is to lay it down to my last sleep.
MRS. FLAMM
Do you know, by the way, father Bernd, that my husband is giving up his
office as magistrate? He'll hardly marry your girl.
BERND
They're in a hurry....
MRS. FLAMM
I know, I know. Rose is helpin' along too. She was in to see me this
morning. If you wouldn't mind, going to look ... right behind the yard
... Christie!... There he is....
FLAMM
[_Not yet visible, calls:_] Presently! In a moment!
MRS. FLAMM
It's official business.
_FLAMM, without coat or waistcoat, appears in the door of his den.
His gleaming white shirt is open in front. He is busy cleaning the
barrels of a shotgun._
FLAMM
Here I am. The machinist Streckmann was here just now. I'd like to have
my threshing done at once, but the machine is down there on the estate
and they're far from being done ... Dear me! Surely that's father Bernd.
BERND
Yes, Mr. Flamm, we have come here. We were wantin' to....
FLAMM
One thing after another! Patience! [_He examines the barrels of the gun
carefully._] If you have official business for the magistrate, you'd
better wait a little while. Steckel will be my successor and he will take
these matters a deal more solemnly.
MRS. FLAMM
[_Holding her crocheting needle to her chin and observing her husband
attentively._] Christie, what silly stuff are you talking?
AUGUST
[_Who, pale from the first, has grown paler at the mention of
STRECKMANN'S name, now arises solemnly and excitedly._] Your honour, we
want to announce a marriage.--I am ready, by God's help, to enter into
the holy state of matrimony.
FLAMM
[_Stops looking at the gun. Lightly._] Is it possible? And are you in
such a hurry about it?
MRS. FLAMM
[_Banteringly._] How does that concern you, Christie? Dear me, let the
good folks marry in peace! You're a reg'lar preacher, you are! If that
man had his will, father Bernd, there wouldn't be hardly anything but
single men and women.
FLAMM
Well, marriage is a risky business,--You're the bookbinder August Keil.
AUGUST
At your service.
FLAMM
You live over in Wandriss? And you've bought the Lachmann house?
AUGUST
Exactly.
FLAMM
And you want to open a book-shop?
AUGUST
A book and stationery shop. Yes. Probably,
BERND
He thinks o' sellin' mostly devotional books.
FLAMM
There's some land that belongs to the Lachmann house, isn't there? It
must be there by the big pear tree?
BERND _and_ AUGUST
[_At the same time._] Yes.
FLAMM
Why then our properties adjoin! [_He lays down the barrels of the gun,
searches in his pockets for a bunch of keys and then calls out through
the door:_] Minna! Come and wheel your mistress out!
[_Resignedly though unable to control his disquiet, he sits down at
the desk._
MRS. FLAMM
A very chivalrous man! But he's in the right! I'm in the way just now!
[_To the neat maid who has come in and stepped behind her._] Come, my
girl, wheel me into the den. An' you might well pin up your hair more
smoothly.
_MRS. FLAMM and the MAID disappear in the den._
FLAMM
I'm really sorry for the Lachmanns. [_To KEIL._] You invested your
savings in a mortgage on that property, didn't you? [_AUGUST coughs
excitedly and in embarrassment._] Well, that's all the same in the end!
Whoever owns that property, though, has cause to congratulate
himself.--So you want to marry? Well, all that's wanting is the lady! How
is that? Is the lady stubborn?
AUGUST
[_Very much wrought up and quite determined._] We're at one entirely, so
far as I know.
BERND
I'll go an' fetch her, Mr. Flamm.
[_Exit rapidly._
FLAMM
[_Who has opened the desk in obvious absentmindedness, observes BERND'S
departure too late._] Nonsense, there's no such terrible hurry. [_For a
few moments he gazes in some consternation at the door through which
BERND has disappeared. Then he shrugs his shoulders._] Do as you please!
Exactly as you please! I can light a pipe in the meanwhile. [_He gets up,
takes a tobacco pouch from the bookcase and a pipe from a rack on the
wall, fills the pipe and lights it. To AUGUST._] Do you smoke?
AUGUST
No.
FLAMM
Nor take snuff?
AUGUST
No.
FLAMM
And you drink no whisky, no beer, no wine?
AUGUST
Nothing except the wine in the sacrament.
FLAMM
Iron principles, I must say! Quite exemplary!--Come in! I thought someone
was knocking. Or wasn't there? Those confounded ...! You practise a bit
of quackery now and then as a diversion, don't you? [_AUGUST shakes his
head._] I thought you healed by prayer? Seems to me I heard something
like that.
AUGUST
That would be somethin' very different from quackery.
FLAMM
In what respect?
AUGUST
Faith can move mountains. And whatever is asked in the right spirit ...
there the Father is still almighty to-day.
FLAMM
Come in! Surely someone's been knocking again! Come in! Come in! Confound
it all! [_Old BERND, very pale himself, urges ROSE to enter. She is pale
and resists him. She and FLAMM look steadfastly into each other's eyes
for a moment. Thereupon FLAMM continues:_] Very well! Just wait one
little minute.
[_He goes into the den as though to search for something._
_The following colloquy of BERND, ROSE and AUGUST is carried on in
eager whispers._
BERND
What was Streckmann sayin' to you?
ROSE
Who? But, father ...
BERND
Streckmann was out there, talkin' an' talkin' to her!
ROSE
Well, what should he ha' been talkin' to me about?
BERND
That's what I'm askin' you.
ROSE
An' I know about nothin'.
AUGUST
You ought to have no dealin's with such a scamp!
ROSE
Can I help it if he talks to me?
BERND
You see, you must confess that he's been talkin' to you!
ROSE
An' if he has! I didn't listen to him--
BERND
I'll have to be givin' notice about that feller Streckmann. I'll have to
get the help o' the law against him. We was walkin' past there a while
ago where they're workin' with that threshin' machine. You hear? They're
beginnin' again! [_From afar the humming and rumbling of the machine is
heard._] An' then he called out somethin' after us. I couldn't just
rightly hear what it was.
AUGUST
If a girl talks as much as two words to that man, her good repute is
almost ruined.
ROSE
Well, go an' get yourself a better girl.
FLAMM
[_Re-enters. He has put on a collar and a hunting coat. His demeanour is
firm and dignified._]
Good morning, everybody. Now what can I do for you? When is this wedding
to take place? What's the trouble? You don't seem to be in agreement.
Well, won't you please say something? Well, my good people, it doesn't
look as though you were really ready. Suppose you take my advice: go home
and think it all over once more. And when you've quite made up your minds
come in again.
AUGUST
[_Dictatorially._] The matter'll be adjusted now.
FLAMM
I have surely nothing against it, Keil. [_About to make the necessary
notes with a pencil._] When is the ceremony to take place?
BERND
As soon as ever it's possible, we was thinkin'.
AUGUST
Yes; in four or five weeks if it could be done.
FLAMM
In four or five weeks? So soon as that?
AUGUST
Yes, Mr. Flamm.
FLAMM
Then I must beg you to name the exact date. It's very difficult to make
such arrangements so rapidly and....
ROSE
[_Involuntarily from the depth of her painful excitement._] An' it might
well wait a bit longer'n that.
FLAMM
What do you mean, Rosie? I should say Miss Bernd. We've known, each other
all our lives. But one shouldn't--be so familiar with a girl who's
betrothed. However, it seems, then, that you are not in agreement....
AUGUST
[_Who has started violently at ROSE'S words, has stared at her
uninterruptedly since. Now he fights down his emotion and says with
unnatural calm:_] Very well then. Good-bye and good luck to you, father
Bernd.
BERND
Stay right where you are, August, I tell you! [_To ROSE._] An' as for
you! I'm tellin' you now that you must make up your mind one way or
t'other! D'you understand? Long enough has I had patience with you, an'
August too, more than was need. We went an' took your foolishness upon
ourselves. We was thinkin': Patience, patience! The Almighty will bring
the lass to her senses. But things gets worse an' worse with you. Three
days ago you give me your sacred promise an' plighted your troth to
August, an' you yourself was hard put to it to wait. An' to-day comes an'
you want to be shirkin'. What's the meanin' o' that? What do you think o'
yourself? D'you think you can dare anything because you've been a good,
decent lass? Because you've had self-respect an' been industrious, an' no
man can say evil o' you? Is that the reason? Ah, you're not the only one
o' that kind. That's no more'n our dooty! An' we're not permitted to
think anything of ourselves on that account! There's others as don't go
gaddin' to the dance! There's others as has taken care o' her brothers
an' sisters an' kept house for an old father! They're not all slovens an'
gadabouts even though you're a pious, decent lass! An' how would things
ha' been if you had been different? The street would ha' been your home!
No girl like that could be a daughter o' mine! This man here, August, he
has no need o' you! A man like that has but to stretch out his hand ...
an' he can have any girl he wants, even if her people are of the best. He
might be havin' a very different wife from yourself! Truly, a man's
patience can't bear everything! It'll snap sometime! Pride, arrogance,
recklessness--that's what it is in you! Either you keep your promise,
or....
FLAMM
Now, now, father Bernd! You must be gentle!
BERND
Your honour, you don't know how it's been! A girl that leads on and makes
a fool of an honest man that way--she can't be no daughter o' mine!
AUGUST
[_Nearly weeping._] What have you got to reproach me with, Rose? Why are
you so hard toward me? 'Tis true, I never had no confidence in my good
fortune? An' why should I have? I'm made for misfortune! An' that's what
I've always told you, father Bernd, in spite of it all I've taken thought
an' I've worked an' God has given his blessin' so that I've not fallen by
the wayside. But I can weep; these things aren't for me! That would ha'
been too much of a blessin'. I grew up in an orphan house! I never knew
what it was to have a home! I had no brother an' no sister ... well, a
man can still hold fast to his Saviour.--It may be I'm not much to look
at, lass! But I asked you an' you said yes. 'Tis the inner man that
counts! God looks upon the heart ... You'll be bitter sorry some day!
[_He tries to go but BERND holds him back._
BERND
Once more! Here you stay, August!--D'you understand, Rosie! I means these
words: This man here ... or ... no, I can't permit that! That man here
was my friend an' support long before he asked you to be his wife. When I
was down with the sickness an' couldn't earn nothin', an' no one was good
to us--he shared his bit o' bread with us! [_AUGUST, unable to master his
emotion any longer, takes his hat and goes out._] He was like an angel o'
the Lord to us!--August!
ROSE
I'm willin'. Can't you give me a little time?
BERND
He's given you three years! The good pastor has tried to persuade you ...
Now August is tired out! Who's to blame him for't? Everything must end
somewhere! He's in the right! But now you can look after yourself an' see
what becomes o' you ... I can't take no more pride in such a daughter.
[_Exit._
FLAMM Well, well, well, well! This is the damnedest ...!
_ROSE has become alternately red and deathly pale. It is clear that
she is struggling with emotions so violent that she can scarcely hold
them in check. After BERND has gone out the girl seems to fall into a
state of desperate numbness._
FLAMM
[_Closing the public registration book and finding courage to look at
ROSE._] Rose! Wake up! What's the matter with you? Surely you're not
going to worry about all that ranting? [_A fever seems to shake her and
her great eyes are full of tears._] Rose! Be sensible! What's the ...?
ROSE
I know what I want--and--maybe--I'll be able to put it through! An'--if
not--it don't matter--neither!
FLAMM
[_Walks up and down excitedly, stopping to listen at the door._]
Naturally. And why not? [_Apparently absorbed in the key-rack from which
he takes several keys, whispers in feverish haste._] Rose! Listen! Rose,
do you hear me? We must meet behind the outbuildings! I must talk it all
over with you once more. Ssh! Mother's in there in the den. It's not
possible here!
ROSE
[_Uttering her words with difficulty but with an iron energy._] Never an'
never, Mr. Flamm!
FLAMM
I suppose you want to drive us all mad? The devil has gotten into you!
I've been running around after you for the better part of a month, trying
to say a sensible word to you and you avoid me as if I were a leper!
What's the result? Things of this kind!
ROSE
[_As before._] An' if everythin' gets ten times worse'n it is--_no_! You
can all beat down on me; I don't deserve no better! Go on an' wipe your
boots on me, but ...
FLAMM
[_Who is standing by the table, turns suddenly with indignant
astonishment toward ROSE. He strives to master his rage. Suddenly however
he brings down his fist on the table top with resounding violence._] I
will be damned to all ...!
ROSE
For heaven's sake ...
_MRS. FLAMM, wheeled by a maid servant, appears at the door of the
den._
MRS. FLAMM
What is the trouble, Christopher?
_FLAMM who has turned deadly pale, pulls himself together
energetically, takes his hat and cane from the wall and goes out
through the door at the right._
MRS. FLAMM
[_Looks at her husband in consternation, shakes her head at his abrupt
departure and then turns questioningly to ROSE._] What has happened?
What's the matter with him?
ROSE
[_Overwhelmed by her profound wretchedness._] Oh, dear Mrs. Flamm, I'm
that unhappy!
[_She sinks down before MRS. FLAMM and buries her head in the
latter's lap._
MRS. FLAMM
Now do tell me!... For pity's sake, lass ... what's come over you! What
is it? You're like a different creature. I can't never understand that!
[_To the maid who has wheeled her in._] I don't need you now; you can
come back later! Get everything ready in the kitchen. [_The maid leaves
the room._] Now then! What is the trouble? What has happened? Tell me
everything! It'll ease you! What? What is't you say? Don't you want to
marry that pasty August? Or maybe you're carryin' some other fellow
around in your thoughts? Dear me! one o' them is about as good as
another, an' no man is worth a great deal.
ROSE
[_Controlling herself and rising._] I know what I wants and that's the
end o't!
MRS. FLAMM
Is that true? You see, I was afraid you didn't know! Sometimes a woman
don't know, especially a young one like you. An' then, maybe, an older
woman can help a bit. But if you know what you want,'tis well! You'll be
findin' your own way out o' your trouble. [_Putting on her spectacles,
with a keen glance._] Rosie, are you ill maybe?
ROSE
[_Frightened and confused._] Ill? How ...?
MRS. FLAMM
Why, don't people get ill? You used to be so different formerly.
ROSE
But I'm not ill!
MRS. FLAMM
I'm not sayin' it. I just ask. I ask because I want to know! But we must
understand each other rightly! 'Tis true! Don't let's talk round about
the thing we want to know, or play hide an' seek.--You're not afraid that
I don't mean well? [_ROSE shakes her head vigorously._] An 'twould be
strange if you did. That's settled then. You used to play with my little
Kurt. You two grew up together until it pleased God to take my only
child.--An' that very time your mother died too an' I remember--she was
lyin' on her deathbed--that she was askin' me that I might, if possible,
look after you a bit.
ROSE
[_Staring straight before her._] The best thing for me would be to jump
into the river! If things is that way ... God forgive me the sin!
MRS. FLAMM
If things are that way? How? I don't understand you! You might well speak
a bit more clearly.--In the first place, I'm a woman myself, an' it won't
astonish me. An' then--I've been a mother myself, even if I have no
children now. Lass, who knows what's wrong with you? I've been watchin'
you for weeks an' weeks; maybe you didn't notice anything, but now I want
you to come out with the truth.--Wheel me over to that chest o' drawers.
[_ROSE obeys her._] So! Here in these drawers are old things--a child's
clothes an' toys. They were Kurt's ... Your mother said to me once: My
Rose, she'll be a mother o' children! But her blood is a bit too hot!--I
don't know. Maybe she was right. [_She takes a large doll from one of the
drawers._] Do you see? Things may go as they want to in this world, but a
mother is not to be despised.--You and Kurt used to play with this doll.
'Twas you mainly that took care o' her, washed her, fed her, gave her
clean linen, an' once--Flamm happened to come up--you put her to your
breast.--You brought those flowers this morning, didn't you? The
forget-me-nots in the little dish yonder? An' you put flowers on Kurt's
grave o' Sunday. Children an' graves--they're women's care. [_She has
taken a little child's linen shift from the drawer, she unfolds it,
holding it by the sleeves, and speaks from behind it._] Didn't you,
Rosie? An' I thank you for it, too. Your father, you see, he's busy with
his missionary meetin's an' his Bible lessons an' such things. All people
are sinners here, says he, an' he wants to make angels of 'em. It may be
that he's right, but I don't understand those things. I've learned one
thing in this world, an' that is what it is to be a mother an' how a
mother is blessed with sorrows.
_ROSE overwhelmed and moaning has sunk down beside MRS. FLAMM and
kisses the latter's hands again and again in gratitude and as a sign
of confession._
MRS. FLAMM
[_Shows by a sudden gleam in her eyes that she understands the truth and
has received the confession. But she continues to speak quietly._] You
see, lass, that's what I've learned. I've learned that one thing which
the world has forgotten. I don't know very much about anything else. As
much as most people, maybe, an' that's not any real knowledge. [_She lays
down the child's shift carefully on her lap._] Well, now you go home an'
be of good courage! I'll be thinkin' things over for you. 'Tis well so
far. I'll ask you no more just now. You're different now ... all's
different. An' I'll be doubly careful. I don't want to know anything, but
I want you to depend on me. Little I care, anyhow, who the father is--if
'tis a councillor or a beggar. It's we who have to bring the children
into the world, an' no one can help us there. Three things you must think
about--how about your father, and about August ... an' something more.
But I have time enough! I'll think it all over an' I'll feel that I'm
still good for something in this world.
ROSE
[_Has arisen and passed again into a state of moral numbness._] No, no,
Mrs. Flamm, don't do that! You can't! Don't take no interest in me! I've
not deserved it of him nor of no one! I know that! I've got to fight it
through--alone! There's no help in others for me; it's ... no, I can't
tell you no clearer!... You're as good to me as an angel! Dear God,
you're much too good! But it's no use! I can't take your help.
Good-bye....
MRS. FLAMM
Wait a little! I can't let you go this way. Who knows what you may be
doin'?
ROSE
No, you can be reel quiet about that, Mrs. Flamm. I'm not that desperate
yet. If there's need, I can work for my child. Heaven's high an' the
world is wide! If it was just me, an' if it wasn't for father an' if
August didn't seem so pitiful ... an' then, a child ought to have a
father!
MRS. FLAMM
Good. You just be resolute. You were always a brave girl. An' 'tis better
if you can keep your courage up!--But, if I've understood you rightly, I
can't see at all why you want to fight against the weddin'.
ROSE
[_Becomes sullen, pale and fearful._] What can I say? I don't hardly
know! An' I don't want to fight against it no more. Only ...
Streckmann....
MRS. FLAMM
Be open with me, you understand? For my part you can go home now! But
come back to-morrow! An' listen to this thing I say: Be glad! A woman
ought to be glad of her child....
ROSE
An' God knows that I am! An' I will fight it all through! Only--nobody
can't help me to do it!
[_Exit quickly._
MRS. FLAMM [_Alone. She looks after ROSE, sighs, takes the child's shift
from her lap, unfolds it as before and says:_] Ah, lass,'tis a good
fortune that you have, not an evil! There's none that's greater for a
woman! Hold it fast!
THE CURTAIN FALLS
THE THIRD ACT
_A fertile landscape. In the foreground, to the right, on a
triangular piece of greensward slightly below the level of the
fields, there stands an old pear tree, at the foot of which a spring
empties into a primitive basin of stone. The middle distance is of
meadow land. In the background a pool, bordered by reeds and dotted
by water plants, lies in a grove of alder trees and bushes of
hazelnut, willow and beech. The meadows extend on either side
encircled by immemorial oaks, elms, beeches and birch trees. Between
the foliage of the trees and bushes the church spires of distant
villages are visible. To the left, behind the bushes, arise the
thatched roofs of the field barns._
_It is a hot afternoon of early August._
_From afar is heard the hum of the threshing machine. BERND and
AUGUST KEIL come from, the right. They are worn out from labour and
from the heat. The men are clad only in their shirts, breeches, boots
and caps. Each carries a hoe across his shoulder, a scythe in his
hand, and carries at his belt a cowherd's horn and whetstone._
BERND
'Tis hot an' to spare to-day. A man must rest a bit! But a feelin' o'
peace comes to you workin' on your own ground.
AUGUST
The trouble is I'm not used to mowin'.
BERND
You went an' did your share right bravely.
AUGUST
Yes, yes! But how long can I do it? All my limbs are twitchin' an'
hurtin' me now.
BERND
You can rest content, my son. A man's got to be used to that kind o'
work. An' in your case 'tis only an exception. But, 's I said, you could
well go an' be a gard'ner.
AUGUST
For the space of a day. On the second I'd collapse. There's no use; I'm
but a broken reed. I went to the county physician again. 'Twas the same
as always. He just shrugged his shoulders.
BERND
You're well now an' in God's hands. The most you might do is to put a few
rusty nails in water an' drink the rinsings two or three times a week.
That purifies the blood an' strengthens the heart.--I only hope the
weather'll keep on this way.
AUGUST
The heat's too terrible. When we were mowin', I thought I heard thunder.
BERND
[_Kneeling down on the edge of the basin and drinking from the surface of
the spring._] Water is the best drink for all they say.
AUGUST
How late is it?
BERND
'Tis about four o'clock, I'm wonderin' what keeps Rose with our evenin'
meal. [_He raises his scythe and looks at the blade. AUGUST does the
same._] Will you have to sharpen? Mine will do a bit longer.
AUGUST
I can try it this way a while longer.
BERND
[_Throws himself on the grass under the pear tree._] You'd better come
an' sit down by me. An' if, maybe, you got your Testament with you, we
might refresh ourselves with the Good Word.
AUGUST
[_Sitting down exhausted and glad to be free._] All I say is: Thanks and
praise be to the Lord.
BERND
D'you see, August, I said to you then: Let her be! The lass will find her
own way! Now she's come to her senses! In the old days, before your time,
often an' often I worried about her. A kind o' stubbornness used to come
over her from time to time. An
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