Richard.
Let her. It's her specialty.
Beata.
Every one knows that she never comes here, and her being here to-night is making people talk.
Baron Ludwig.
(Approaching his brother, evidently atKellinghausen'sinstigation.) Ah, here are the two friends talking together.
Beata.
(Looking from one brother to the other.) And the two enemies, too--thank heaven!
Baron Ludwig.
The Countess is right, Richard. It was foolish of us not to speak to each other.
Richard.
My dear Ludwig, perhaps we hadn't enough to say.
Baron Ludwig.
Or too much!
Richard.
Possibly. (ToBeata.) But, Countess----
Beata(turning to join the others).
No, no. I am going to leave you two together. (She moves away.)
Richard.
Why do you look at her so strangely?
Baron Ludwig.
Strangely? What do you mean?
Richard.
You begrudge me this friendship, Ludwig.
Baron Ludwig.
Do I? Perhaps. You must remember that I am very lonely. I had hoped that your house might----
Richard.
My house? With Leonie----?
Baron Ludwig.
Yes--your friend is different from Leonie.
Richard.
You needn't envy me, Ludwig. My friend is a dying woman. Every day I ask myself if I shall ever see her again.
Baron Ludwig.
My dear Richard, the woman lives in a thousand energies. She will survive us both.
Richard.
God grant it!
Baron Ludwig.
But--be on your guard.
Richard.
What do you mean?
Baron Ludwig.
(Glancing atKellinghausen.) Can we find a quiet corner somewhere? (He takesRichard'sarm and they go toward the other room.)
EnterLeonie,onNorbert'sarm.
Leonie(meeting the brothers).
What a touching spectacle! Look, Norbert!
Baron Ludwig.
Don't detain us, Leonie. We're going to have our photograph taken. (He andRichardgo out.)
Leonie(advancing toward the front).
How enchanting! And Beata as the angel of peace! Quite a new rôle for you, isn't it, dear? But you'resoversatile!
Beata.
Dear Leonie, find fault with me when I sow discord, but praise me when I make peace.
Leonie.
Do you care so much for praise?
Beata.
Don't you?
Leonie.
Oh, no one ever praises me. I suppose I don't know how to play my cards. Norbert, please have the carriage called.
Norbert.
Very well, mother. (Goes out.)
Leonie.
Ah, Prince--good-evening! (He kisses her hand.) How is it we never see you at our missionary meetings? Her Royal Highness wished me to say that she counts on your help. Isn't that flattering? (To the others.) The Prince is one of us, you know. He serves the cause of religion faithfully----
Prince.
And in poverty of spirit. That's my special merit, you know, Baroness.
Brachtmann(aside to thePrince).
You reprobate!
Leonie.
But pray don't let me disturb you, for I must really be off. My carriage is waiting, and my coachman is so cross. We're all the slaves of our carriages. (ToKellinghausen.) It has been so delightful--dear Beata is such a wonderful hostess. Our great stateswoman knows so well how to keep her party in hand. Willingly or unwillingly, she makes them all come into line; don't you, Beata, dear?
Beata.
I'm afraid you are among the unwilling to-night, Leonie.
Leonie.
Oh, I'm not as adaptable as some of your friends.
Brachtmann(aside to thePrince).
Do you hear those amenities?
Prince(toBrachtmann).
The Baroness is dispensing Christian charity sprinkled with arsenic. Let's efface ourselves. (They move quietly into the background.)
Leonie.
(ToKellinghausen,with whom she has been talking.) No, no, my dear Count you mustn't think of it. Norbert will put me in my carriage. And meanwhile, I want to have a little chat with dear Beata. We always have so many things to say to each other.
Kellinghausen(kissing her hand).
At your orders, my dear friend. I'll draw the curtain to protect yourtête-à-tête. (He draws the curtain between the columns and goes out.)
Leonie.
How wonderfully well you look to-night, Beata! Not in the least like a prospective grandmother.
Beata.
Why, as to that, Leonie, it looks as though you and I were to be made grandmothers on the same day.
Leonie.
Ah, really? Well, Ellen is a delightful child. Where is she, by the way? You don't seem to care to let her be seen in your neighbourhood on such occasions.
Beata.
Seen? In my neighbourhood? You have an odd way of putting things. But I believe you had something to say to me.
Leonie.
I know I oughtn't to keep you from your other guests, but it's such a pleasure to have you to myself. I wonder what has become of Norbert?--I must say, Beata, I can't help admiring your self-possession. I don't see how you can be so unconcerned.
Beata.
What should I be concerned about?
Leonie.
Why, you don't mean--? I should almost think you-- But I don't know how to express myself. It's so very painful.--There are such dreadful people in the world.
Beata.
Are there?
Leonie.
This former secretary of Richard's, for instance, who has made such a shocking speech against him. You've received a copy, of course?
Beata.
Not that I know of.
Leonie(drawing a paper from her pocket).
Ah--I brought mine with me. Perhaps it might interest you.
Beata.
Not in the least, my dear.
Leonie.
You are mentioned in it, too.
Beata(smiling).
Really?
Leonie.
Only between the lines, of course.
Beata.
Between the lines? What do you mean?
Leonie.
This is the paragraph; the one marked with a blue pencil. Don't be horrified. It will make you laugh, of course. I laughed over it myself. (Beatatakes the paper, looking firmly atLeonieas she does so. She reads the paper, throws it aside, and looks atLeonieagain, without speaking.) Good heavens, how pale you are! I didn't realise-- Shall I get you a glass of water?
Beata.
No, thanks. (Controlling herself with an effort.) Does Richard know of this?
Leonie.
Oh, yes. Doesn't Michael?
Beata.
Certainly not.--He would have-- Will you let me have this paper?
Leonie.
To show Michael?
Beata.
Naturally. In a matter involving his honour----
Leonie.
You don't mean to make a scandal?
Beata.
What do you call a scandal? Haven't you made one in bringing me this?
Leonie.
I mean that your husband might----
Beata.
My husband will do as he sees fit.
Leonie.
You are very sure of yourself.
Beata.
My dear Leonie, remember that you are in my house.
Leonie.
My dear Beata, we are always in each other's houses; we can't meet at the street corners, like servants.
Beata.
You are right. Say what you were going to say.
Leonie.
Oh, I have held my tongue so long!
Beata.
Why have you, if you had anything to say?
Leonie.
Listen, Beata. I am not going to discuss the relations between my husband and yourself. It's a subject that no longer interests me. But it was you who took him away from me, and when I found you had taken him, I turned to my boy instead. Then you took him too. Now I have nothing left--nothing but my position in society, which I have built up slowly, year by year, by my own efforts, as you know. I am in the Princess Agnes's most intimate set, I am patroness of--but all this doesn't interest you. But how have I accomplished it? Simply by keeping my eyes shut and appearing to sanction your friendship with Richard.--And now, if you persist in dragging your husband in, there will be a scandal, and I shall have to sue for a divorce; and that will be excessively unpleasant for us all. Don't you agree with me?
Beata.
I might say so many things in reply.--In the first place, whatever I have taken was never really yours.--But no matter. I will only ask you one thing: have you thought of Ellen and Norbert?
Leonie.
Oh, Ellen and Norbert! I've no objection to the match, none whatever--but it'syourscheme, not mine, and you can't expect me to be particularly enthusiastic about it. But I should think it would be one more reason foryouto keep quiet.
Beata.
Then--if you don't mean to do anything--why did you bring me this?
Leonie(with irrepressible triumph).
Why did I bring it? Because I--(relapses into her usual amiability)--I thought it might interest you, and you see I was not mistaken. Ah, here comes Norbert!
EnterNorbert.
Norbert.
I'm sorry to have kept you, mother. The carriage was-- (Startled.) Why, Aunt Beata, what's the matter?
Beata(making an effort to smile).
Nothing, Norbert, dear.
Leonie.
Well, good-bye, Beata. Do be careful of yourself! I should be so sorry to think I had done anything to excite you. Come, Norbert, you must put me in the carriage, and then you can come back to your dear aunt.
Norbert.
I beg your pardon, mother, but I think Aunt Beata needs me now. If you'll wait for me a moment downstairs----
Leonie.
What did I say? I congratulate you, Beata! (She goes out alone.)
Norbert.
What has she been saying to you?
Beata.
Oh, she was right--so right!
Norbert(alarmed).
Aunt Beata!
Beata(with an effort).
Norbert--my son--take me to Ellen. In a few minutes I shall be quite----
Norbert.
Come, come-- (Leads her gently out. Sounds of talk and laughter come from the inner room.)
EnterKellinghausen.
Kellinghausen.
(Putting his head through the curtains.) Ha! No one there? Have our wives made way with each other? (ToRichard,who has followed him.) They're not so deuced fond of one another. I say, old man, just now, when I was talking about the elections, why did you all put on that air of statesmanlike reserve? Did I say anything out of the way?
Richard.
What an absurd idea!
Kellinghausen.
One is always liable to make an ass of one's self. I'm not conscious of having blundered, but--oh, well, I sha'n't get anything out of you. (Raising the curtain and calling out--) Brachtmann--Usingen--come here a moment.
Richard.
Michael, if you take my advice we'll drop the election for the present. I give you my word that if anything occurs that reflects on you----
Kellinghausen.
On me? Reflects on me? What on earth do you mean? I'm thinking of the party. Our business is to look out for the party.
EnterBrachtmannand thePrince,followed a moment or two later byNorbert.
Brachtmann.
Hear, hear! But what are you talking about?
Kellinghausen(toNorbert).
Aha, young man, where have you come from? Tea in the school-room, eh?
Norbert.
Aunt Beata was not very well, Uncle Michael. (Richardstarts.)
Kellinghausen.
Ah?
Norbert.
She is feeling better now. She will be here in a few minutes.
Kellinghausen.
That's good--that's good. By the way, Master Norbert, we're going to put you through your paces. How about this so-called "Ordeal," eh? Do you own up to it?
Norbert.
I'm proud to, Uncle. At least, no--not so very proud; for I've found out lately that it's all been said before, a thousand times better than I've said it.
Brachtmann.
And also by a member of the Conservative party?
Norbert.
Well--no--not exactly.
Brachtmann.
Ah--but that's the point.
Norbert.
I beg your pardon, Herr von Brachtmann, I thought truth was truth, no matter who uttered it.
Prince.
What is truth? said Pilate.
Norbert.
And washed his hands. We also wash our hands of many things, your Highness. I have even heard it said that the use of soap and water is the only thing that distinguishes us from the masses. But no matter how much washing we do, we can't wash off the blood we have shed in the abuse of our class-privileges.
Prince(toRichard). Very neatly parried. He has a good wrist.
Richard.
My dear Norbert, will you give your venerable parent a hearing? We have left far behind us many of what you call our "class-privileges"; but their traditional spirit still survives. And that spirit, whether the modern world condemns it, or the middle-classes make it ridiculous by aping it--that spirit is the safeguard of our order. Believe me, Norbert, we must stand or fall by it.
Norbert.
Then we must fall, father.
Richard.
Possibly--even probably. But meanwhile the one distinction we have left is the right to dispose of our lives. When a nobleman of the Italian Renaissance, or a young blade of the court of Louis XIII., crossed the threshold of his house, he was never sure of re-entering it alive. That was what gave him his audacity, his splendid indifference to danger. Today we no longer stake our lives so lightly; but the fact that they are ours to stake still gives its keenest edge to living.
The Others.
Hear! Hear!
Norbert.
My dear father, you have given us an admirable explanation of the personal view of death. But life is not a personal matter at all. You have said so often enough. Our lives belong to the ideals for which we fight, they belong to the state or to the race----
Kellinghausen.
And how about our personal sense of honour? What of that, Norbert? Are we to be forbidden to defend with our lives the few things we hold sacred on earth? May we no longer fall upon the scoundrel who assails them? You will hardly convince us of that, Norbert.
Richard.
Then again, Norbert, there may be cases--you are too young to have foreseen them, but they exist--where an honourable man may have done irreparable injury to another's honour. If he admits his guilt, and satisfaction is demanded of him, what is he to do? Is he to run away, or to shelter himself behind the law? The law, which was made to protect the honour of serfs! Should you expect that of him, Norbert?
Norbert.
If your man of honour admits his guilt, and is ready to pay the penalty, let him be his own judge.
Richard.
H'm----
Norbert.
But I beg your pardon, father; that is hardly the point. It was all very well for the aristocracy to make its own laws when it had the power to enforce them; but what is to become of its precious "class-privileges" when the modern world laughs at them and the mob refuses to recognise them? When that day comes, I don't see what we can do but take shelter behind the law.
Kellinghausen.
I don't understand you, Norbert. Give us an instance.
Norbert.
Nothing easier, Uncle Michael. What do you propose to do with the scoundrel who has been insulting you in his electioneering speeches? (There is a startled movement among his listeners.) You don't mean to challengehim, I suppose?
Kellinghausen.
What do you----?
Norbert.
Unless you treat the whole matter with silent contempt and I fancy you'll hardly do that it seems to me that a libel suit is the only alternative.
Kellinghausen.
Norbert--are you dreaming--or----
Norbert.
Why--Uncle Michael--didn't you know?
Prince.
Nowyou've done it, young man!
Kellinghausen.
Do any of you know what he's driving at?
Brachtmann.
Yes.
Kellinghausen.
Richard, what does this mean? What is going on behind my back? You call yourself my friend--why have you kept me in the dark?
Richard(very quietly).
In the first place, dear Michael, we only heard of the business an hour or two ago; in the second place (as he speaks,Beataenters from behind), I am mixed up in it myself.
Kellinghausen.
You? In a slander that concerns me? (Richardnods without speaking.) Then there was all the more reason----
Brachtmann.
My dear Kellinghausen, the fault is mine. For the sake of the party, I asked Völkerlingk not to--
Prince(suddenly noticingBeata).
H'm. Perhaps we had better-- (he advances towardBeata). My dear Countess----
Beataenters quietly.
Beata.
Don't be afraid. I know what you are speaking of. I know all about it. Michael, if these gentlemen would allow us to talk the matter over by ourselves----
Kellinghausen.
Thank you, my dear. But I think you had better keep out of it. Richard--Brachtmann--if you'll come to my study---- (They both assent.)
Richard(approachingBeata).
I will say good-night, Countess.
Beata.
Good-night, my dear Völkerlingk. (Rapidly, in a low voice, as he bends above her hand.) Does he know?
Richard(in the same tone).
Not yet.
Beata(aloud, with conventional cordiality).
I shall see you to-morrow? (Richardbows, and follows the other men toward the door.)
The same scene: in the afternoon.Holtzmannis waiting. EnterKellinghausenin hat and fur-lined coat.
Kellinghausen.
Ah, Holtzmann--this is very good of you. I'm extremely obliged to you for coming. (Shakes hands with him.) Sorry to have kept you waiting. (Takes off his hat and coat.) Sit down--sit down.--That is,--perhaps we'd better-- Oh, well, my wife's not likely to come in just now.--A cigarette?
Holtzmann.
Thanks. I don't smoke.
Kellinghausen(lighting a cigarette).
You remember Meixner the fellow who gave us such a lot of trouble during the elections? I believe you and he have crossed swords once or twice in public; and didn't you tell me that you knew him personally? When was it that you ran across him?
Holtzmann.
There was only one inn in the village, and his room and mine were on the same landing. The meeting was over at eleven, and I went to bed soon after. About midnight in walks Meixner, as cool as you please, and sits down on my bed. "We haven't finished that argument yet. Let's have it out now," he said. And there he sat till six in the morning.
Kellinghausen.
(Takes a copy of the"Lengenfeld News"out of his pocket and glances at it.) Did that happen before or after the twelfth of January?
Holtzmann.
It happened before he made that speech.
Kellinghausen(startled).
What? You knew----?
Holtzmann.
Why--naturally.