MUMMY. Do you know this man, Bengtsson?
BENGTSSON. Oh yes, I know him, and he knows me. Life has its ups and downs, as you know. I have been in his service, and he has been in mine. For two years he came regularly to our kitchen to be fed by our cook. Because he had to be at work at a certain hour, she made the dinner far ahead of time, and we had to be satisfied with the warmed-up leavings of that beast. He drank the soup-stock, so that we got nothing but water. Like a vampire, the sucked the house of all nourishment, until we became reduced to mere skeletons—and he nearly got us into jail when we dared to call the cook a thief. Later I met that man in Hamburg, where he had another name. Then he was a money-lender, a regular leech. While there, he was accused of having lured a young girl out on the ice in order to drown her, because she had seen him commit a crime, and he was afraid of being exposed....
MUMMY. [Making a pass with her hand over the face ofHUMMELas if removing a mask] That's you! And now, give up the notes and the will!
JOHANSSONappears in the hallway and watches the scene with great interest, knowing that his slavery will now come to an end.HUMMELproduces a bundle of papers and throws them on the table.
JOHANSSONappears in the hallway and watches the scene with great interest, knowing that his slavery will now come to an end.
HUMMELproduces a bundle of papers and throws them on the table.
MUMMY. [Stroking the back ofHUMMEL] Polly! Are you there, Jacob?
HUMMEL. [Talking like a parrot] Here is Jacob!—Pretty Polly! Currrr!
MUMMY. May the clock strike?
HUMMEL. [With a clucking noise like that of a clock preparing to strike] The dock may strike! [Imitating a cuckoo-clock]Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo....
MUMMY. [Opening the closet door] Now the clock has struck! Rise and enter the closet where I have spent twenty years bewailing our evil deed. There you will find a rope that may represent the one with which you strangled the Consul as well as the one with which you meant to strangle your benefactor.... Go!
HUMMELenters the closet.
HUMMELenters the closet.
MUMMY. [Closes the door after him] Put up the screen, Bengtsson.... The Death Screen!
BENGTSSONplaces the screen in front of the door.
BENGTSSONplaces the screen in front of the door.
MUMMY. It is finished! God have mercy on his soul!
ALL. Amen!
Long silence. Then theYOUNG LADYappears in the Hyacinth Room with theSTUDENT.She seats herself at a harp and begins a prelude, which changes into an accompaniment to the following recitative:
Long silence. Then theYOUNG LADYappears in the Hyacinth Room with theSTUDENT.She seats herself at a harp and begins a prelude, which changes into an accompaniment to the following recitative:
STUDENT. [Singing]
"Seeing the sun, it seemed to my fancyThat I beheld the Spirit that's hidden.Man must for ever reap what he planted:Happy is he who has done no evil.Wrong that was wrought in moments of angerNever by added wrong can be righted.Kindness shown to the man whose sorrowSprang from your deed, will serve you better.Fear and guilt have their home together:Happy indeed is the guiltless man!"
Curtain.
THIRD SCENE
A room furnished in rather bizarre fashion. The general effect of it is Oriental. Hyacinths of different colours are scattered everywhere. On the mantelshelf of the fireplace is seen a huge, seated Buddha, in whose lap rests a bulb. From that bulb rises the stalk of a shallot(Allium Ascalonicum),spreading aloft its almost globular cluster of white, starlike flowers.An open door in the rear wall, toward the right-hand side, leads to the Round Room, where theCOLONELand theMUMMYare seated. They don't stir and don't utter a word. A part of the Death Screen is also visible.Another door, at the left, leads to the pantry and the kitchen. TheYOUNG LADY[Adèle] and theSTUDENTare discovered near a table. She is seated at her harp, and he stands beside her.
A room furnished in rather bizarre fashion. The general effect of it is Oriental. Hyacinths of different colours are scattered everywhere. On the mantelshelf of the fireplace is seen a huge, seated Buddha, in whose lap rests a bulb. From that bulb rises the stalk of a shallot(Allium Ascalonicum),spreading aloft its almost globular cluster of white, starlike flowers.
An open door in the rear wall, toward the right-hand side, leads to the Round Room, where theCOLONELand theMUMMYare seated. They don't stir and don't utter a word. A part of the Death Screen is also visible.
Another door, at the left, leads to the pantry and the kitchen. TheYOUNG LADY[Adèle] and theSTUDENTare discovered near a table. She is seated at her harp, and he stands beside her.
YOUNG LADY. Sing to my flowers.
STUDENT. Is this the flower of your soul?
YOUNG LADY. The one and only.—Are you fond of the hyacinth?
STUDENT. I love it above all other flowers. I love its virginal shape rising straight and slender out of the bulb that rests on the water and sends its pure white rootlets down into the colourless fluid. I love the colour of it, whether innocently white as snow or sweetly yellow as honey; whether youthfully pink or maturely red; but above all if blue—with the deep-eyed, faith-inspiring blue of the morning sky. I love these flowers, one and all; love them more than pearls or gold, and have loved them ever since I was a child. I have always admired them, too, because they possess every handsome quality that I lack.... And yet....
YOUNG LADY. What?
STUDENT. My love is unrequited. These beautiful blossoms hate me.
YOUNG LADY. How do you mean?
STUDENT. Their fragrance, powerful and pure as the winds of early spring, which have passed over melting snow—it seems to confuse my senses, to make me deaf and blind, to crowd me out of the room, to bombard me with poisoned arrows that hurt my heart and set my head on fire. Do you know the legend of that flower?
YOUNG LADY. Tell me about it.
STUDENT. Let us first interpret its symbolism; The bulb is the earth, resting on the water or buried in the soil. From that the stalk rises, straight as the axis of the universe. At its upper end appear the six-pointed, starlike flowers.
YOUNG LADY. Above the earth—the stars! What lofty thought! Where did you find it? How did you discover it?
STUDENT. Let me think.... In your eyes!—It is, therefore, an image of the Cosmos. And that is the reason why Buddha is holding the earth-bulb in his lap, brooding on it with a steady gaze, in order that he may behold it spread outward and upward as it becomes transformed into a heaven.... This poor earth must turn into a heaven! That is what Buddha is waiting for!
YOUNG LADY. I see now.... Are not the snow crystals six-pointed, too, like the hyacinth-lily?
STUDENT. You are right! Thus the snow crystal is a falling star....
YOUNG LADY. And the snowdrop is a star of snow—grown out of the snow.
STUDENT. But the largest and most beautiful of all the stars in the firmament, the red and yellow Sirius, is the narcissus, with its yellow-and-red cup and its six white rays....
YOUNG LADY. Have you seen the shallot bloom?
STUDENT. Indeed, I have! It hides its flowers within a ball, a globe resembling the celestial one, and strewn, like that, with white stars....
YOUNG LADY. What a tremendous thought! Whose was it?
STUDENT. Yours!
YOUNG LADY. No, yours!
STUDENT. Ours, then! We have jointly given birth to something: we are wedded....
YOUNG LADY. Not yet.
STUDENT. What more remains?
YOUNG LADY. To await the coming ordeal in patience!
STUDENT. I am ready for it. [Pause] Tell me! Why do your parents sit there so silently, without saying a single word?
YOUNG LADY. Because they have nothing to say to each other, and because neither one believes what the other says. This is the way my father puts it: "What is the use of talking, when you can't fool each other anyhow?"
STUDENT. That's horrible....
YOUNG LADY. Here comes the Cook.... Look! how big and fat she is!
STUDENT. What does she want?
YOUNG LADY. Ask me about the dinner.... You see, I am looking after the house during my mother's illness.
STUDENT. Have we to bother about the kitchen, too?
YOUNG LADY. We must eat.... Look at that Cook.... I can't bear the sight of her....
STUDENT. What kind of a monster is she?
Young Lady. She belongs to the Hummel family of vampires. She is eating us alive.
STUDENT. Why don't you discharge her?
YOUNG LADY. Because she won't leave. We can do nothing with her, and we have got her for the sake of our sins.... Don't you see that we are pining and wasting away?
STUDENT. Don't you get enough to eat?
YOUNG LADY. Plenty of dishes, but with all the nourishment gone from the food. She boils the life out of the beef, and drinks the stock herself, while we get nothing but fibres and water. In the same way, when we have roast, she squeezes it dry. Then she eats the gravy and drinks the juice herself. She takes the strength and savour out of everything she touches. It is as if her eyes were leeches. When she has had coffee, we get the grounds. She drinks the wine and puts water into the bottles....
STUDENT. Kick her out!
YOUNG LADY. We can't!
STUDENT. Why not?
YOUNG LADY. We don't know! But she won't leave! And nobody can do anything with her. She has taken all our strength away from us.
STUDENT. Will you let me dispose of her?
YOUNG LADY. No! It has to be as it is, I suppose.—Here she is now. She will ask me what I wish for dinner, and I tell her, and then she will make objections, and in the end she has her own way.
STUDENT. Why don't you leave it to her entirely?
YOUNG LADY. She won't let me.
STUDENT. What a strange house! It seems to be bewitched!
YOUNG LADY. It is!—Now she turned back on seeing you here.
COOK. [Appearing suddenly in the doorway at that very moment] Naw, that was not the reason.
[She grins so that every tooth can be seen.
[She grins so that every tooth can be seen.
STUDENT. Get out of here!
COOK. When it suits me! [Pause] Now it does suit me!
[She disappears.
[She disappears.
YOUNG LADY. Don't lose your temper! You must practise patience. She is part of the ordeal we have to face in this house. We have a chambermaid, too, after whom we have to put everything back where it belongs.
STUDENT. Now I am sinking!Cor in aethere!Music!
YOUNG LADY. Wait!
STUDENT. Music!
YOUNG LADY. Patience!—This is named the Room of Ordeal.... It is beautiful to look at, but is full of imperfections.
STUDENT. Incredible! Yet such things have to be borne. It is very beautiful, although a little cold. Why don't you have a fire?
YOUNG LADY. Because the smoke comes into the room.
STUDENT. Have the chimney swept!
YOUNG LADY. It doesn't help.—Do you see that writing-table?
STUDENT. Remarkably handsome!
YOUNG LADY. But one leg is too short. Every day I put a piece of cork under that leg. Every day the chambermaid takes it away when she sweeps the room. Every day I have to cut a new piece. Both my penholder and my inkstand are covered with ink every morning, and I have to clean them after that woman—as sure as the sun rises. [Pause]What is the worst thing you can think of?
STUDENT. To count the wash. Ugh!
YOUNG LADY. That's what I have to do. Ugh!
STUDENT. Anything else?
YOUNG LADY. To be waked out of your sleep and have to get up and dose the window—which the chambermaid has left unlatched.
STUDENT. Anything else?
YOUNG LADY. To get up on a ladder and tie on the cord which the chambermaid has torn from the window-shade.
STUDENT. Anything else?
YOUNG LADY. To sweep after her; to dust after her; to start the fire again, after she has merely thrown some wood into the fireplace! To watch the damper in the fireplace; to wipe every glass; to set the table over again; to open the wine-bottles; to see that the rooms are aired; to make over your bed; to rinse the water-bottle that is green with sediment; to buy matches and soap, which are always lacking; to wipe the chimneys and cut the wicks in order to keep the lamps from smoking and in order to keep them from going out when we have company, I have to fill them myself....
STUDENT. Music!
YOUNG LADY. Wait! The labour comes first—the labour of keeping the filth of life at a distance.
STUDENT. But you are wealthy, and you have two servants?
YOUNG LADY. What does that help? What would it help to have three? It is troublesome to live, and at times I get tired.... Think, then, of adding a nursery!
STUDENT. The greatest of joys....
YOUNG LADY. And the costliest.... Is life really worth so much trouble?
STUDENT. It depends on the reward you expect for your labours.... To win your hand I would face anything.
YOUNG LADY. Don't talk like that. You can never get me.
STUDENT. Why?
YOUNG LADY. You mustn't ask.
[Pause.
[Pause.
STUDENT. You dropped your bracelet out of the window....
YOUNG LADY. Yes, because my hand has grown too small....
[Pause.TheCOOKappears with a bottle of Japanese soy in her hand.
[Pause.
TheCOOKappears with a bottle of Japanese soy in her hand.
YOUNG LADY. There is the one that eats me and all the rest alive.
STUDENT. What has she in her hand?
COOK. This is my colouring bottle that has letters on it looking like scorpions. It's the soy that turns water into bouillon, and that takes the place of gravy. You can make cabbage soup out of it, or mock-turtle soup, if you prefer.
STUDENT. Out with you!
COOK. You take the sap out of us, and we out of you. We keep the blood for ourselves and leave you the water—with the colouring. It's the colour that counts! Now I shall leave, but I stay just the same—as long as I please!
[She goes out.
[She goes out.
STUDENT. Why has Bengtsson got a medal?
YOUNG LADY. On account of his great merits.
STUDENT. Has he no faults?
YOUNG LADY. Yes, great ones, but faults bring you no medals, you know.
[Both smile.
[Both smile.
STUDENT. You have a lot of secrets in this house....
YOUNG LADY. As in all houses.... Permit us to keep ours! [Pause.
STUDENT. Do you care for frankness?
YOUNG LADY. Within reason.
STUDENT. At times I am seized with a passionate craving to say all I think.... Yet I know that the world would go to pieces if perfect frankness were the rule. [PauseI attended a funeral the other day—in one of the churches—and it was very solemn and beautiful.
YOUNG LADY. That of Mr. Hummel?
STUDENT. Yes, that of my pretended benefactor. An elderly friend of the deceased acted as mace-bearer and stood at the head of the coffin. I was particularly impressed by the dignified manner and moving words of the minister. I had to cry—everybody cried.... A number of us went to a restaurant afterward, and there I learned that the man with the mace had been rather too friendly with the dead man's son....
TheYOUNG LADYstares at him, trying to make out the meaning of his words.
TheYOUNG LADYstares at him, trying to make out the meaning of his words.
STUDENT. I learned, too, that the dead man had borrowed money of his son's devoted friend.... [Pause] And the next day the minister was arrested for embezzling the church funds.—Nice, isn't it?
YOUNG LADY. Oh! [Pause.
STUDENT. Do you know what I am thinking of you now?
YOUNG LADY. Don't tell, or I'll die!
STUDENT. I must, lestIdie!
YOUNG LADY. It is only in the asylum you say all that you think....
STUDENT. Exactly! My father died in a madhouse....
YOUNG LADY. Was he sick?
STUDENT. No, perfectly well, and yet mad. It broke out at last, and these were the circumstances. Like all of us, he was surrounded by a circle of acquaintances whom he called friends for the sake of convenience, and they were a lot of scoundrels, of course, as most people are. He had to have some society, however, as he couldn't sit all alone. As you know, no one tells people what he thinks of them under ordinary circumstances, and my father didn't do so either. He knew that they were false, and he knew the full extent of their perfidy, but, being a wise man and well brought up, he remained always polite. One day he gave a big party.... It was in the evening, naturally, and he was tired out by a hard day's work. Then the strain of keeping his thoughts to himself while talking a lot of damned rot to his guests.... [TheYOUNG LADYis visibly shocked] Well, while they were still at the table, he rapped for silence, raised his glass, and began to speak.... Then something loosed the trigger, and in a long speech he stripped the whole company naked, one by one, telling them all he knew about their treacheries. At last, when utterly tired out, he sat down on the table itself and told them all to go to hell!
YOUNG LADY. Oh!
STUDENT. I was present, and I shall never forget what happened after that. My parents had a fight, the guests rushed for the doors—and my father was taken to a madhouse, where he died! [Pause] To keep silent too long is like letting water stagnate so that it rots. That is what has happened in this house. There is something rotten here. And yet I thought it paradise itself when I saw you enter here the first time.... It was a Sunday morning, and I stood gazing into these rooms. Here I saw a Colonel who was no colonel. I had a generous benefactor who was a robber and had to hang himself. I saw a Mummy who was not a mummy, and a maiden—how about the maidenhood, by the by?... Where is beauty to be found? In nature, and in my own mind when it has donned its Sunday clothes. Where do we find honour and faith? In fairy-tales and childish fancies. Where can I find anything that keeps its promise? Only in my own imagination!... Your flowers have poisoned me and now I am squirting their poison back at you.... I asked you to become my wife in a home full of poetry, and song, and music; and then the Cook appeared....Sursum corda!Try once more to strike fire and purple out of the golden harp.... Try, I ask you, I implore you on my knees.... [As she does not move] Then I must do it myself! [He picks up the harp, but is unable to make its strings sound] It has grown deaf and dumb! Only think that the most beautiful flower of all can be so poisonous—that it can be more poisonous than any other one.... There must be a curse on all creation and on life itself.... Why did you not want to become my bride? Because the very well-spring of life within you has been sickened.... Now I can feel how that vampire in the kitchen is sucking my life juices.... She must be a Lamia, one of those that suck the blood of children. It is always in the servants' quarters that the seed-leaves of the children are nipped, if it has not already happened in the bedroom.... There are poisons that blind you, and others that open your eyes more widely. I must have been born with that second kind of poison, I fear, for I cannot regard what is ugly as beautiful, or call evil good—I cannot! They say that Jesus Christ descended into hell. It refers merely to his wanderings on this earth—his descent into that madhouse, that jail, that morgue, the earth. The madmen killed him when he wished to liberate them, but the robber was set free. It is always the robber who gets sympathy! Woe! Woe is all of us! Saviour of the World, save us—we are perishing!
Toward the end of theSTUDENT'Sspeech, theYOUNG LADYhas drooped more and more. She seems to be dying. At last she manages to reach a bell and rings forBENGTSSON,who enters shortly afterward.
Toward the end of theSTUDENT'Sspeech, theYOUNG LADYhas drooped more and more. She seems to be dying. At last she manages to reach a bell and rings forBENGTSSON,who enters shortly afterward.
YOUNG LADY. Bring the screen! Quick! I am dying!
BENGTSSONfetches the screen, opens it and places it so that theYOUNG LADYis completely hidden behind.
BENGTSSONfetches the screen, opens it and places it so that theYOUNG LADYis completely hidden behind.
STUDENT. The liberator is approaching! Be welcome, thou pale and gentle one!—Sleep, you beauteous, unhappy and innocent creature, who have done nothing to deserve your own sufferings! Sleep without dreaming, and when you wake again—may you be greeted by a sun that does not burn, by a home without dust, by friends without stain, by a love without flaw! Thou wise and gentle Buddha, who sitst waiting there to see a heaven sprout from this earth, endow us with patience in the hour of trial, and with purity of will, so that thy hope be not put to shame!
The strings of the harp begin to hum softly, and a white light pours into the room.
The strings of the harp begin to hum softly, and a white light pours into the room.
STUDENT. [Singing]
"Seeing the sun, it seemed to my fancyThat I beheld the Spirit that's hidden.Man must for ever reap what he planted:Happy is he who has done no evil.Wrong that was wrought in moments of angerNever by added wrong can be righted.Kindness shown to the man whose sorrowSprang from your deed, will serve you better.Fear and guilt have their home together:Happy indeed is the guiltless man!"[1]
A faint moaning sound is heard from behind the screen.
A faint moaning sound is heard from behind the screen.
STUDENT. You poor little child—you child of a world of illusion, guilt, suffering, and death—a world of eternal change, disappointment, and pain—may the Lord of Heaven deal mercifully with you on your journey!
The whole room disappears, and in its place appears Boecklin's "The Island of Death...." Soft music, very quiet and pleasantly wistful, is heard from without.
The whole room disappears, and in its place appears Boecklin's "The Island of Death...." Soft music, very quiet and pleasantly wistful, is heard from without.
[1]The lines recited by theSTUDENTare a paraphrase of several passages from "The Song of the Sun" in the Poetic Edda. It is characteristic of Strindberg's attitude during his final period that this Eddic poem, which apparently has occupied his mind great deal, as he has used it a number of times in "The Bridal Crown" also, is the only one of that ancient collection which is unmistakably Christian in its colouring. It has a certain apocryphal reputation and is not regarded on a par with the other contents of the Poetic Edda.
[1]The lines recited by theSTUDENTare a paraphrase of several passages from "The Song of the Sun" in the Poetic Edda. It is characteristic of Strindberg's attitude during his final period that this Eddic poem, which apparently has occupied his mind great deal, as he has used it a number of times in "The Bridal Crown" also, is the only one of that ancient collection which is unmistakably Christian in its colouring. It has a certain apocryphal reputation and is not regarded on a par with the other contents of the Poetic Edda.
CHARACTERS
TheHUSBAND,thirty-seven (Axel Brunner)TheWIFE,thirty-six (Olga Brunner)ROSE,fifteenTheBARONESS,her mother, forty-sevenAMAID
The scene is laid in Germany, about1890.
A German dining-room, with a rectangular dinner-table occupying the middle of the floor. A huge wardrobe stands at the right. There is an oven of glazed bricks.The door in the background stands open, disclosing a landscape with vineyards, above which appears a church spire.At the left is a door papered like the rest of the wait. A travelling-bag is placed on a chair by the wardrobe.TheWIFEis writing at the table, on which lie a bunch of flowers and a pair of gloves.
A German dining-room, with a rectangular dinner-table occupying the middle of the floor. A huge wardrobe stands at the right. There is an oven of glazed bricks.
The door in the background stands open, disclosing a landscape with vineyards, above which appears a church spire.
At the left is a door papered like the rest of the wait. A travelling-bag is placed on a chair by the wardrobe.
TheWIFEis writing at the table, on which lie a bunch of flowers and a pair of gloves.
HUSBAND. [Entering] Good morning—although it's noon already. Did you sleep well?
WIFE. Splendidly, considering the circumstances.
HUSBAND. Yes, we might have broken away a little earlier from that party last night....
WIFE. I seem to remember that you made the same remark a number of times during the night....
HUSBAND. [Playing with the flowers] Do you really remember that much?
WIFE. I remember also that you got mad because I sang too much.... Please don't spoil my flowers!
HUSBAND. Which previously belonged to the Captain, I suppose?
WIFE. Yes, and which probably belonged to the gardener before the florist got them. But now they are mine.
HUSBAND. [Throwing away the flowers] It's a nice habit they have in this place—of sending flowers to other people's wives.
WIFE. I think it would have been well for you to go to bed a little earlier.
HUSBAND. I am perfectly convinced that the Captain was of the same opinion. But as my one choice was to stay and be made ridiculous, or go home alone and be made equally ridiculous, I preferred to stay....
WIFE. ... And make yourself ridiculous.
HUSBAND. Can you explain why you care to be the wife of a ridiculous man? I should never care to be the husband of a ridiculous woman.
WIFE. You are to be pitied!
HUSBAND. Right you are. Frequently I have thought so myself. But do you know what is the most tragical feature of my ridiculousness?
WIFE. I am sure your own answer will be much cleverer than any one I could give.
HUSBAND. It is—that I am in love with my wife after fifteen years of marriage....
WIFE. Fifteen years! Have you begun to use a pedometer?
HUSBAND. For the measurement of my thorny path, you mean? No. But you, who are dancing on roses, might do well in counting your steps To me you are still as young as ever—unfortunately—while my own hair is turning grey. But as we are of the same age, my looks should tell you that you must be growing old yourself....
WIFE. And that is what you are waiting for?
HUSBAND. Exactly. How many times have I not wished that you were old and ugly, that you were pock-marked, that your teeth were gone, just to have you to myself and be rid of this worry which never leaves me!
WIFE. How charming! And once you had me old and ugly, then everything would be so very peaceful until you began to worry about somebody else, and I was left to enjoy all that peace alone, by myself.
HUSBAND. No!
WIFE. Yes! It has been well proved that your love loses its fervour the moment you have no reason to be jealous. Do you remember last summer, when there was not a soul on that island but we two? You were away all day, fishing, hunting, getting up an appetite, putting on flesh—and developing a self-assurance that was almost insulting.
HUSBAND. And yet I recall being jealous—of the hired man.
WIFE. Merciful Heavens!
HUSBAND. Yes, I noticed that you couldn't give him an order without making conversation; that you couldn't send him out to cut some wood without first having inquired about the state of his health, his future prospects, and his love-affairs.... You are blushing, I think?
WIFE. Because I am ashamed of you....
HUSBAND... Who....
WIFE. ... Have no sense of shame whatever.
HUSBAND. Yes, so you say. But will you please tell me why you hate me?
WIFE. I don't hate you. I simply despise you! Why? Probably for the same reason that makes me despise all men as soon as they—what do you call it?—are in love with me. I am like that, and I can't tell why.
HUSBAND. So I have observed, and my warmest wish has been that I might hate you, so that you might love me. Woe is the man who loves his own wife!
WIFE. Yes, you are to be pitied, and so am I, but what can be done?
HUSBAND. Nothing. We have roved and roamed for seven years, hoping that some circumstance, some chance, might bring about a change. I have tried to fall in love with others, and have failed. In the meantime your eternal contempt and my own continued ridiculousness have stripped me of all courage, all faith in myself, all power to act. Six times I have run away from you—and now I shall make my seventh attempt. [He rises and picks up the travelling-bag.
WIFE. So those little trips of yours were attempts to run away?
HUSBAND. Futile attempts! The last time I got as far as Genoa. I went to the galleries, but saw no pictures—only you. I went to the opera, but heard nobody—only your voice back of every note. I went to a Pompeian café, and the one woman that pleased me looked like you—or seemed to do so later.
WIFE. [Revolted] You have visited places of that kind?
HUSBAND. Yes, that far have I been carried by my love—and by my virtue, which has embarrassed me by making me ridiculous.
WIFE. That's the end of everything between us two!
HUSBAND. So I suppose, as I can't make you jealous.
WIFE. No, I don't know what it is to be jealous—not even of Rose, who loves you to distraction.
HUSBAND. How ungrateful of me not to notice it! On the other hand, I have had my suspicions of the old Baroness, who is all the time finding excuses for visiting that big wardrobe over there. But as she is our landlady, and the furniture belongs to her, I may be mistaken as to the motive that makes our rooms so attractive to her.... Now I'll get dressed, and in half an hour I shall be gone—without any farewells, if you please!
WIFE. You seem rather afraid of farewells.
HUSBAND. Particularly when you are concerned in them!
He goes out. TheWIFEremains alone a few moments. ThenROSEenters. She is carelessly dressed, and her hair is down. A scarf wrapped about her head and covering her cheeks and chin indicates toothache. There is a hole on the left sleeve of her dress, which ends half-way between her knees and her ankles.
He goes out. TheWIFEremains alone a few moments. ThenROSEenters. She is carelessly dressed, and her hair is down. A scarf wrapped about her head and covering her cheeks and chin indicates toothache. There is a hole on the left sleeve of her dress, which ends half-way between her knees and her ankles.
WIFE. Well, Rose!—What's the matter, child?
ROSE. Good morning, Mrs. Brunner. I have such a toothache that I wish I were dead!
WIFE. Poor little thing!
ROSE. To-morrow is the Corpus Christi festival, and I was to walk in the procession—and to-day I should be binding my wreath of roses, and Mr. Axel has promised to help me with it.... Oh, those teeth!
WIFE. Let me see if there are any signs of decay—open your mouth now!—What wonderful teeth you have! Perfect pearls, my dear child! [She kissesROSEon the mouth.
ROSE. [Annoyed] You mustn't kiss me, Mrs. Olga! You mustn't! I don't want it! [She climbs up on the table and puts her feet on one of the chairs] Really, I don't know what I want! I should have liked to go to that party yesterday—but I was forced to stay at home all by myself in order to get my lessons done—just as if I were nothing but a child—and then I have to sit on the same bench with those kids! But all the same I won't let the Captain chuck me under the chin any longer, for I am no child! No, I am not! And if my mother tries to pull my hair again—I don't know what I'll do to her!
WIFE. What's the matter, my dear Rose? What has happened, anyhow?
ROSE. I don't know what is the matter, but I have shooting pains in my head and in my teeth, and I feel as if I had a red-hot iron in my back—and I am disgusted with life. I should like to drown myself. I should like to run away, and go from one fair to another, and sing, and be insulted by all sorts of impudent fellows....
WIFE. Listen, Rose! Listen to me now!
ROSE. I wish I had a baby! Oh, I wish it were not such an awful shame to have a baby! Oh, Mrs. Olga [She catches sight of the travelling-bag] Who is going away?
WIFE. My ... my husband.
ROSE. Then you have been nasty to him again, Mrs. Olga.—Where is he going? Is he going far away? When will he be back?
WIFE. I—Iknow nothing at all!
ROSE. Oh, you don't? Haven't you asked him even? [She begins to ransack the bag] But I—Ican see that he is going far away, because here is his passport. Very far, I am sure! How far, do you think?—Oh, Mrs. Olga, why can't you be nice to him, when he is so kind to you?
[She throws herself weeping into the arms of Mrs. Brunner.
[She throws herself weeping into the arms of Mrs. Brunner.
WIFE. Now, now, my dear child! Poor little girl—is she crying? Poor, innocent heart!
ROSE. I like Mr. Axel so much!
WIFE. And you are not ashamed of saying so to his own wife? And you want me to console you—you, who are my little rival?—Well, have a good cry, my dear child. That helps a whole lot.
ROSE. [Tearing herself away] No! If I don't want to cry, I don't have to! And if it suits me to pick up what you are throwing away, I'll do so!—I don't ask any one's permission to like anybody or anything!
WIFE. Well, well, well! But are you so sure that he likes you?
ROSE. [Throwing herself into the elder woman's arms again, weeping] No, I am not.
WIFE. [Tenderly, as if talking to a baby] And now perhaps you want me to ask Mr. Axel to like you? Is that what Mrs. Olga has to do?
ROSE. [Weeping] Ye-es!—And he mustn't go away! He mustn't!—Please be nice to him, Mrs. Olga! Then he won't go away.
WIFE. What in the world am I going to do, you little silly?
ROSE. I don't know. But you might let him kiss you as much as he wishes.... I was watching you in the garden the other day, when he wanted, and you didn't—and then I thought....
BARONESS. [Entering] Sorry to disturb you, madam, but with your permission I should like to get into the wardrobe.
WIFE. [Rising] You're perfectly welcome, Baroness.
BARONESS. Oh, there is Rose.—So you are up again, and I thought you were in bed!—Go back to your lessons at once.
ROSE. But you know, mamma, we have no school to-morrow because of the festival.
BARONESS. You had better go anyhow, and don't bother Mr. and Mrs. Brunner all the time.
WIFE. [Edging toward the door in the background] Oh, Rose is not bothering us at all. We couldn't be better friends than we are.... We were just going into the garden to pick some flowers, and then we meant to try on the white dress Rose is to wear to-morrow.
ROSE. [Disappears through the door in the background with a nod of secret understanding to theWIFE] Thank you!
BARONESS. You are spoiling Rose fearfully.
WIFE. A little kindness won't spoil anybody, and least of all a girl like Rose, who has a remarkable heart and a head to match it.
TheBARONESSis digging around in the wardrobe for something. TheWIFEstands in the doorway in the rear. Entering by the door at the left with a number of packages, theHUSBANDexchanges a glance of mutual understanding with his wife. Then hath watch theBARONESSsmilingly for a moment. At last theWIFEgoes out, and theHUSBANDbegins to put his packages into the travelling-bag.
TheBARONESSis digging around in the wardrobe for something. TheWIFEstands in the doorway in the rear. Entering by the door at the left with a number of packages, theHUSBANDexchanges a glance of mutual understanding with his wife. Then hath watch theBARONESSsmilingly for a moment. At last theWIFEgoes out, and theHUSBANDbegins to put his packages into the travelling-bag.
BARONESS. Pardon me for disturbing you.... I'll be through in a moment....
HUSBAND. Please don't mind me, Baroness.
BARONESS. [Emerging from the wardrobe] Are you going away again, Mr. Brunner?
HUSBAND. I am.
BARONESS. Far?
HUSBAND. Perhaps—and perhaps not.
BARONESS. Don't you know?
HUSBAND. I never know anything about my own fate after having placed it in the hands of another person.
BARONESS. Will you pardon me a momentary impertinence, Mr. Brunner?
HUSBAND. That depends.... You are very friendly with my wife, are you not?
BARONESS. As friendly as two women can be with each other. But my age, my experience of life, my temperament.... [She checks herself abruptly] However—I have seen that you are unhappy, and as I have suffered in the same way myself, I know that nothing but time will cure your disease.
HUSBAND. Is it really I who am diseased? Is not my behaviour quite normal? And is not my suffering caused by seeing other people behave abnormally or—pathologically?
BARONESS. I was married to a man whom I loved.... Yes, you smile! You think a woman cannot love because.... But I did love him, and he loved me, and yet—he loved others, too. I suffered from jealousy so that—so that—I made myself insufferable. He went into the war—being an officer, you know—and he has never returned. I was told that he had been killed, but his body was never found, and now I imagine that he is alive and bound to another woman.—Think of it! I am still jealous of my dead husband. At night I see him in my dreams together with that other woman.... Have you ever known torments like that, Mr. Brunner?
HUSBAND. You may be sure I have!—But what makes you think that he is still alive?
[He begins to arrange his things in the travelling-bag.
[He begins to arrange his things in the travelling-bag.
BARONESS. A number of circumstances combined to arouse my suspicions at one time, but for years nothing happened to revive them. Then you came here four months ago, and, as a strange fate would have it, I noticed at once a strong resemblance between you and my husband. It served me as a reminder. And as my dreams took on flesh and blood, so to speak, my old suspicions turned into certainty, and now I really believe that he is alive? I am in a constant torment of jealousy—and that has enabled me to understand you.
HUSBAND. [Becoming attentive, after having listened for a while with apparent indifference] You say that I resemble your husband.—Won't you be seated, Baroness?
BARONESS. [Sits down at the table with her back to the public; theHUSBANDtakes a chair beside her] He looked like you, and—barring certain weaknesses—his character also....
HUSBAND. He was about ten years older than I.... And he had a scar on his right cheek that looked as if it had been made by a needle....
BARONESS. That's right!
HUSBAND. Then I met your husband one night in London.
BARONESS. Is he alive?
HUSBAND. I have to figure it out—for the moment I can't tell.... Let's see! That was five years ago—in London, as I told you. I had been to a party—men and women—and the atmosphere had been rather depressed. On leaving the place, I joined the first man who gave me a chance to unburden myself. We wereen rapportat once, and our chat developed into one of those endless sidewalk conversations, during which he let me have his entire history—having first found out that I came from his own district.
BARONESS. Then he is alive?...
HUSBAND. He was not killed in the war—that much is certain—because he was taken prisoner. Then he fell in love with the mayor's daughter, ran away with her to England, was deserted by his fair lady, and began to gamble—with constant bad luck. When we separated in the morning hours, he gave me the impression of being doomed. He made me promise that if chance should ever put you in my way after a year had gone by, and provided that he had not in the meantime communicated with me by advertisement in a newspaper I am always reading, I was to consider him dead. And when I met you, I was to kiss you on the hand, and your daughter on the brow, saying on his behalf: "Forgive!"
As he kisses the hand of theBARONESS,ROSEappears on the veranda, outside the open door, and watches them with evident excitement.
As he kisses the hand of theBARONESS,ROSEappears on the veranda, outside the open door, and watches them with evident excitement.
BARONESS. [Agitated] Then he is dead?
HUSBAND. Yes, and I should have given you his message a little more promptly, if I had not long ago forgotten the man's name as well as the man himself. [TheBARONESSis pulling at her handkerchief, apparently unable to decide what to say or do] Do you feel better now?
BARONESS. Yes, in a way, but all hope is gone, too.
HUSBAND. The hope of suffering those sweet torments again....
BARONESS. Besides my girl, I had nothing to interest me but my anxiety.... How strange it is that even suffering can be missed!
HUSBAND. You'll have to pardon me, but I do think that you miss your jealousy more than your lost husband.
BARONESS. Perhaps—because my jealousy was the invisible tie connecting me with that image of my dreams.... And now, when I have nothing left [She takes hold of his hand] You, who have brought me his last message—you, who are a living reminder of him, and who have suffered like me....
HUSBAND. [Becomes restless, rises and looks at his watch] Pardon me, but I have to take the next train—really, I must!
BARONESS. I was going to ask you not to do so. Why should you go? Don't you feel at home here?
ROSEdisappears from the veranda.
ROSEdisappears from the veranda.
HUSBAND. Your house has brought me some of the best hours I have experienced during these stormy years, and I leave you with the greatest regret—but I must Baroness. On account of what happened last night?
HUSBAND. Not that alone—it was merely the last straw.... And now I must pack, if you'll pardon me.
[He turns his attention to the travelling-bag again.
[He turns his attention to the travelling-bag again.
BARONESS. If your decision is irrevocable.... won't you let me help you, as no one else is doing so?
HUSBAND. I thank you ever so much, my dear Baroness, but I am almost done.... And I shall ask you to make our leave-taking less painful by making it short.... In the midst of all trouble, your tender cares have been a sweet consolation to me, and I find it almost as painful to part from you as—[TheBARONESSlooks deeply moved]—from a good mother. I have read compassion in your glances, even when discretion compelled you to remain silent, and I have thought at times that your presence tended to improve my domestic happiness—as your age permitted you to say things that a younger woman would not like to hear from one of her own generation....
BARONESS. [With some hesitation] You must forgive me for saying that your wife is no longer young....
HUSBAND. In my eyes she is.
BARONESS. But not in the eyes of the world.
HUSBAND. So much the better, although, on the other hand, I find her coquetry the more disgusting the less her attractions correspond to her pretensions—and if a moment comes when they begin to laugh at her....
BARONESS. They are doing so already.
HUSBAND. Really? Poor Olga! [He looks thoughtful; then, as a single stroke of a bell is heard from the church tower outside, he pulls himself together] The clock struck. I must leave in half an hour.
BARONESS. But you cannot leave without your breakfast.
HUSBAND. I am not hungry. As always, when starting on a journey, I am so excited that my nerves tremble like telephone wires in very cold weather....
BARONESS. Then I'll make you a cup of coffee. You'll let me do that, won't you? And I'll send up the maid to help you pack.
HUSBAND. Your kindness is so great, Baroness, that I fear being tempted into weaknesses that I should have to regret later on.
BARONESS. You would never regret following my advice—if you only would! [She goes out.
TheHUSBANDremains alone for a few moments. ThenROSEenters from the rearwith a basketful of roses.
TheHUSBANDremains alone for a few moments. ThenROSEenters from the rearwith a basketful of roses.
HUSBAND. Good morning, Miss Rose. What's the matter?
ROSE. Why?
HUSBAND. Why.... Because you have your head wrapped up like that.
ROSE. [Tearing off the scarf and hiding it within her dress] There is nothing the matter with me. I am perfectly well. Are you going away?
HUSBAND. Yes, I am.
TheMAIDenters.
TheMAIDenters.
ROSE. What do you want?
MAID. The Baroness said I should help Mr. Brunner to pack.
ROSE. It isn't necessary. You can go!
TheMAIDhesitates.
TheMAIDhesitates.
ROSE. Go, I tell you!
TheMAIDgoes out.
TheMAIDgoes out.
HUSBAND. Isn't that rather impolite to me, Miss Rose?
ROSE. No, it is not. I wanted to help you myself. But you are impolite when you run away from your promise to help me with the flowers for to-morrow's festival. Not that I care a bit—as I am not going to the festival to-morrow, because—I don't know where I may be to-morrow.
HUSBAND. What does that mean?
ROSE. Can't I help you with something, Mr. Axel? Won't you let me brush your hat?
[She picks up his hat and begins to brush it.
[She picks up his hat and begins to brush it.
HUSBAND. No, I can't let you do that, Miss Rose.
[He tries to take the hat away from her.
[He tries to take the hat away from her.
ROSE. Let me alone! [She puts her fingers into the hole on her sleeve and tears it open] There, now! You tore my dress!
HUSBAND. You are so peculiar to-day, Miss Rose, and I think your restiveness is troubling your mother.
ROSE. Well, what do I care? I am glad if it troubles her, although I suppose that will hurtyou. But I don't care any more for you than I care for the cat in the kitchen or the rats in the cellar. And if I were your wife, I should despise you, and go so far away that you could never find me again!—You should be ashamed of kissing another woman! Shame on you!
HUSBAND. Oh, you saw me kissing your mother's hand, did you? Then I must tell you that it was nothing but a final greeting from your father, whom I met abroad after you had seen him for the last time. And I have a greeting for you, too....
He goes toROSEand puts his hands about her head in order to kiss her brow, butROSEthrows her head back so that her lips meet his. At that moment theWIFEappears on the veranda, shrinks back at what she sees and disappears again.
He goes toROSEand puts his hands about her head in order to kiss her brow, butROSEthrows her head back so that her lips meet his. At that moment theWIFEappears on the veranda, shrinks back at what she sees and disappears again.
HUSBAND. My dear child, I meant only to give you an innocent kiss on the brow.
ROSE. Innocent? Ha-ha! Yes, very innocent!—And you believe those fairy-tales mother tells about father, who died several years ago! That was a man, I tell you, who knew how to love, and who dared to make love! He didn't tremble at the thought of a kiss, and he didn't wait until he was asked! If you won't believe me, come with me into the attic, and I'll let you read the letters he wrote to his mistresses.... Come! [She opens the papered door, so that the stairs leading to the attic become visible] Ha-ha-ha! You're afraid that I am going to seduce you, and you look awfully surprised ... surprised because a girl like me, who has been a woman for three years, knows that there is nothing innocent about love! Do you imagine that I think children are born through the ear? Now I can see that you despise me, but you shouldn't do that, for I am neither worse nor better than anybody else.... I am like this!
HUSBAND. Go and change your dress before your mother comes, Miss Rose.
ROSE. Do you think I have such ugly arms? Or don't you dare to look at them?—Now I think I know why why your wife why you are so jealous of your wife!
HUSBAND. Well, if that isn't the limit!
ROSE. Look at him blush! On my behalf, or on your own? Do you know how many times I have been in love?
HUSBAND. Never!
ROSE. Never with a bashful fellow like you!—Tell me, does that make you despise me again?
HUSBAND. A little!—Take care of your heart, and don't put it where the birds can pick at it, and where it gets—dirty. You call yourself a woman, but you are a very young woman—a girl, in other words....
ROSE. And for that reason just for that reason.... But I can become a woman....
HUSBAND. Until you have—I think we had better postpone conversations of this kind. Shake hands on that, Miss Rose!
ROSE. [With tears of anger] Never! Never! Oh, you!
HUSBAND. Are we not going to part as friends—we who have had so many pleasant days together during the gloomy winter and the slow spring?
WIFE. [Enters, carrying a tray with the coffee things on it; she seems embarrassed and pretends not to noticeROSE] I thought you might have time to drink a nice cup of coffee before you leave. [ROSEtries to take the tray away from her] No, my little girl, I can attend to this myself.
HUSBAND. [Watching his wife in a questioning and somewhat ironic manner] That was an excellent idea of yours....
WIFE. [Evading his glance] I am glad ... that....
ROSE. Perhaps I had better say good-bye now—to Mr. Brunner....
HUSBAND. So you mean to desert me now, Miss Rose....
ROSE. I suppose I must ... because ... your wife is angry with me.
WIFE. I? Why in the world....
ROSE. You promised to try on my dress....
WIFE. Not at this time, child. You can see that I have other things to do now. Or perhaps you wish to keep my husband company while I get the dress ready?
HUSBAND. Olga!
WIFE. What is it?
ROSEputs her fingers into her mouth, looking at once embarrassed and angry.
ROSEputs her fingers into her mouth, looking at once embarrassed and angry.
WIFE. You had better dress decently, my dear young lady, if you are to go with us to the train.
ROSEremains as before.
ROSEremains as before.
WIFE. And suppose you take your flowers with you, if there is to be any demonstration....
HUSBAND. That's cruel, Olga!
ROSE. [Dropping a curtsey] Good-bye, Mr. Brunner.
HUSBAND. [Shaking hands with her] Good-bye, Miss Rose. I hope you will be happy, and that you will be a big girl soon-a very big girl.
ROSE. [Picking up her flowers] Good-bye, Mrs. Brunner. [As she gets no answer] Good-bye! [She runs out.
HUSBANDandWIFElook equally embarrassed; she tries to avoid looking him in the face.
HUSBANDandWIFElook equally embarrassed; she tries to avoid looking him in the face.
WIFE. Can I be of any help?
HUSBAND. No, thank you, I am practically done.
WIFE. And there are so many others to help you.
HUSBAND. Let me have a look at you!
[He tries to take hold of her head.
[He tries to take hold of her head.
WIFE. [Escaping him] No, leave me alone.
HUSBAND. What is it?
WIFE. Perhaps you think that I am—that I am jealous?
HUSBAND. I think so when you say it, but I could never have believed it before.
WIFE. Of a schoolgirl like that—ugh!
HUSBAND. The character of the object seems immaterial in cases of this kind. I felt jealous of a hired man You saw, then, that....
WIFE. That you kissed her!
HUSBAND. No, it was she who kissed me.
WIFE. How shameless! But minxes like her are regular apes!
HUSBAND. Yes, they take after the grown-up people.
WIFE. You seem to be pleased by her attentions anyhow.
HUSBAND. Little used as I am to such attentions....
WIFE. On the part of young ladies, perhaps—but you seem less timid with the old ones....
HUSBAND. You saw that, too, did you?
WIFE. No, but Rose told me. Apparently you are quite a lady-killer.
HUSBAND. So it seems. It's too bad that I can't profit by it.
WIFE. You'll soon be free to choose a younger and prettier wife.
HUSBAND. I am not aware of any such freedom.
WIFE. Now when I am old and ugly!
HUSBAND. I can't make out what has happened. Let me have another look at you. [He comes close to her.
WIFE. [Hiding her face at his bosom] You mustn't look at me!
HUSBAND. What in the world does this mean? You are not jealous of a little schoolgirl or an old widow....
WIFE. I have broken—one of my front teeth. Please don't look at me!
HUSBAND. Oh, you child!—With pain comes the first tooth, and with pain the first one goes.
WIFE. And now you'll leave me, of course?
HUSBAND. Not on your life! [Closing the bag with a snap] To-morrow we'll start for Augsburg to get you a new tooth of gold.
WIFE. But we'll never come back here.
HUSBAND. Not if you say so.
WIFE. And now your fears are gone?
HUSBAND. Yes—for another week.
BARONESS. [Enters carrying a tray; looks very embarrassed at seeing them together] Excuse me, but I thought....
HUSBAND. Thank you, Baroness, I have had coffee already, but for your sake I'll have another cup. And if you—[ROSE,dressed in white, appears in the doorway at that moment] and Miss Rose care to keep us company, we have no objection. On the contrary, nothing could please us better, as my wife and I are leaving on the first train to-morrow morning.