Just you wait till he sees the empty greenhouse to-morrow. There’s waste enough without my keeping another gardener; the bee-hives, they’re gone too. No flowers need trouble themselves to grow for anything I care, they only give you headaches; and then the insects——I don’t know what he gets out of it; and for that, one must be ordered about like a good-for-nothing! The first “hallo!” startles me out of my wits. Oh, this world is no longer any good.
Robert(while Mrs Scholz speaks, shrugs his shoulders and turns to go, then stops and answers).
Was it ever better, then?
Mrs Scholz.
Better! I should think so!!
Robert.
Really! that must have been before my time!
[Goes out through lower door.
Mrs Scholz(listening again on stairway).
When I remember—they’re talking upstairs (she looks up, sees she is alone, listens again uneasily, and finally goes out through stairway, one hand up to her ear, her face expressing fright and curiosity).
[Ida and William enter through the glass door: William is of middle height, strong, healthy-looking; fair hair, cut short; his clothes fit well without being foppish; overcoat, hat, satchel. His left arm is laid round Ida’s shoulders. Shehas her right arm thrown around him, and with gentle force is pushing him on.]
Ida.
You see now, you’re inside! The worst is over already.
William.
Ah no!
[Sighs heavily.
Ida.
You may believe me how very glad your mother is—and Gussie too. (She pulls off his winter gloves) Where did you get these from!
William.
So you know my—mother now?
Ida.
All of them, dearest; we’re sworn friends already.
William.
And how do you—like them?
Ida.
Dearpeople, as you know very well.
William(growing each moment more constrained and depressed, speaks as though to himself).
Extraordinary! (his eyes catch sight of the Christmas tree, he immediately lowers them; starting involuntarily).
Ida.
But, dearest, surely that’s not the first Christmas tree which you—
William.
Yes,here, and you cannot possibly feel with me how—how—extraordinary——
Ida(taking off his coat; he remains passive).
Please, please, Willy (standing in front of him, his coat over her arm, his hat and satchel in her hand), Willy, look at me! (encouragingly) straight—(stands a moment drawn up to her full height, then puts the things quickly to one side, and comes back to William). You have promised me!
William.
Have you ever,—Ida,—have you ever seen a vaulted tomb hung with wreaths and—
Ida(shocked).
Oh William! (quite beside herself, throws her arms about him) thatisbad of you!—that is too bad! that is really too,toobad of you!
William(putting her gently from him with suppressed emotion).
All that means nothing, nothing at all. (Coldly repelling her.) Be reasonable, be reasonable!
Ida.
Oh! whatisthe matter with you!
William(looking through the tree).
Everything else is as it used to be. Ida, you must really, really remember what this all means to me.
Ida.
I’m getting so frightened, Willy! Perhaps, after all, it would have been better to——Mother certainly did not know that it would besohard for you,—and I—I only thought—because mother said—it wasn’t thatIwished it—! But now, now that you’ve got so far, do—will you?—for my sake! Ah! (putting her arms round him).
William(drawn a little further into the room by Ida’s embrace, with sighs of deep inward disturbance).
Every step forwards—what I have lived through in this very place!
Ida.
Only don’t stir that up! Don’t stir all that up!
William.
See! now it’s getting clear to me—your mother should not have persuaded me to this. She’s always so confident,—so—I knew—I told her—but that simple absolute confidence! If only I hadn’t allowed myself to be blinded—
Ida.
Ah! how seriously you take everything, William! Believe me, you will speak differently to-morrow,—as soon as you’ve once seen them all again. Then you’ll at any rate have done your part; you will have proved that you were in earnest in your wish to live at peace with your family.
William.
To see it all again! all the old places! Everything comes back—so vividly, you know—the past comes so close to me—so oppressively close—one can—one is quite helpless—
Ida(embracing him with tears).
When I see you like this, William—ah, don’t think—for pity’s sake don’t think I would have urged you. I am so frightfully sorry for you!
William.
Ida, I can tellyou!—I assure you—I must get away from here! That’s evident.—I’m not equal to this struggle evidently; it might wreck me altogether! You are such a child, Ida! a sweet, innocent child—how should you know! Thank God indeed that you cannot even dream what I—what this man whom you know—I can tellyou—Hatred!—Bitterness!—the very moment I came in—
Ida.
Shall we go? shall we go away? this minute?
William.
Yes! For in these surroundings you—even you—I can scarcely separate you in my mind from the rest! I’m losing you! It’s criminal in me the mere fact that you should be here!
Ida.
If you could only explain, William, there must be—something terrible must have happened here that—
William.
Here! A crime—all the more terrible because it did not count as one. Here my life was given to me, and here that same life—I can tellyou, was—I had almost said systematically destroyed, till it grew loathsome to me—till I dragged it—bowed down like a beast of burden—crept about with it—buried myself, hid myself.—What can I say—one suffers beyond words!—Fury—hate—revenge—despair without ceasing, day and night; the same gnawing devouring pain (pointing to his forehead)here(pointing to his heart) andthere!
Ida.
Only—what can I do, William? I dare not trust myself to advise you in any way, I am so—
William.
You should have been contented to leave me with at least the happiness that I had gained. It had all grown so mercifully dim, I realise nowhowdim! (overcome with excitement, he sinks on to a chair).
Ida(with a suppressed cry).
William!
Mrs Buchner(rushing in through the stairway to William).
William! listen to me! Only remember now what has been said between us. Now that I am so muchto you—I implore you—now show your—yes, I demand it—I demand it from you, as the mother of my child! William, it rests withyounow—with you only, William! you have been terribly, terribly to blame; you have a terrible debt to pay—you shall be happy again; I have done it, I have spoken to your father—he—
William(springs up, straight and stiff, with fixed eyes, stammering):—
F—F—father!—what—t—to my f—father (he staggers and stumbles like one out of his mind, and catches at his overcoat) I—
Ida(frightened).
Willy! Willy!
William(makes signs that he must not be stopped).
Ida.
Ah, mother! William! you—you shouldn’t have told him so suddenly.
Mrs Buchner.
William! are you a man! you cannot have deceived us. If you have still a spark of love for us—for Ida, I demand it of you. I—a woman—
Ida(intercepts William, who has seized his outdoor things, flings her arms round and holds him fast).
You shall not go—or else I—mother, if he goes, I go with him!
William.
Why have you concealed this from me?
Ida.
Never! don’t think so badly of us! We have concealed nothing from you! All of us, your mother, your sister, we had not an idea, any more than you had; he only came a few minutes ago,—without letting anyone know beforehand, and so, you see—I thought immediately—
William.
Who has told you that?
Mrs Buchner(in tears, seizing his hands).
You were terribly, terribly to blame.
William.
So you know?
Mrs Buchner.
Yes, now.
William.
Everything?
Mrs Buchner.
Yes, everything, and you see I was right: you were still dragging a load, that was the secret.
William.
You know that I—?
Mrs Buchner(nods affirmatively).
William.
And Ida, is she to be sacrificed to a man like—like me? Does she know it—do you know it, Ida, too?
Ida.
No, William, but whether I know it or not, that really does not matter.
William.
No?—This hand, that you, that you have often,—this hand (to Mrs Buchner), itwasthat?
Mrs Buchner(nods as before).
William(to Ida).
How shamefully I have deceived you! No, I can’t tell you—another time!
Mrs Buchner.
William, I know what I am asking, but I—youmusthumble yourself before your poor father; till then you will never feel quite free! Call to him, pray to him. Ah! William! youmust! You must cling to his knees, and if he spurns you with his foot, you must not defend yourself! You must not speak a word! patient as a lamb! Believe me, a woman who wishes thebestfor you!
William.
Youdon’tknow, you cannot know, what you are asking of me! Ah! you may thank God, Mrs Buchner, that he has hidden the extent of your cruelty from you! Infamous it may have been what I did! Sacrilegious!—But what I have gone through, here—fought through, suffered—those fearful tortures—he laid the full burden, all the burden on me, and at the endof all, that accursed sin! But in spite of all (after a long deep look into Ida’s eyes, bracing himself as if to a firm resolution), perhaps I shall succeed—in spite of all!