(Enter Alma dressed in the robe of the Indian Princess, her hands covering her face for shame. All laugh and exclaim in surprise at the costume. Auguste feels the material.)
Auguste. The Indian dress.
Michalski. From the stark-naked princess!
Alma. I--just--wanted--to try it on! I'll take it right off!
Frau Heinecke. Ach! what a little angel!
Alma. Aren't you angry with me any more?
Heinecke. Angry! (Then recalling his severity) That is--yes--very. But for once we'll allow mercy to take the place of justice. (Turning around) That was pretty good, eh?
Frau Heinecke. (Strokes Alma's hair and leads her toward the left) Come, sit down. No, here on the arm-chair!
Alma. What is it--what's happened?
Heinecke. Ha! ha!
(All take their places about him.)
Alma. And I can go to the masked ball?
Heinecke. Ha--ha! Yes, you can go to the masked ball.
Auguste. (Ironically) The poor child!
Heinecke. (Jumping up) I must go this minute to the bank!
Michalski. (Opening bottle of liqueur) Wait! We'll wet up our luck so it'll stick! Alma, some glasses.
Frau Heinecke. (Getting up) Let the poor child sit still! I'll 'tend to that myself! (She goes to the washstand and brings a set of liqueur glasses. To Auguste) What did you mean before about Robert?
Auguste. You'll see quick enough.
Frau Heinecke. He won't grudge us old folks a little good luck, will he?
Michalski. (Sings) "So leben wir, so leben wir!"
(The moving of a chair is heard in bedroom.)
Michalski. Ladies and Gentlemen, I drink to Fraulein Alma Heinecke, our lucky-child, and above all, the House that has always shown itself, generous----
Heinecke. The house of Muhlingk! Long live the House of Muhlingk! Hurrah!
(Robert appears at the bedroom door.)
All. Hurrah! Hurrah!
Frau Heinecke. (Startled) There he is!
(Embarrassed silence.)
Michalski. Morning, brother-in-law.
Robert. Will you kindly explain, Mother, how these two happen to be sitting at the table of respectable people?
Michalski. Oh!
Heinecke. Don't be so inhospitable!
Frau Heinecke. (Going toward him) Bobby, you mustn't be proud, specially to your own flesh and blood.
Robert. Hm--Alma, what is that? Who gave you permission----?
Heinecke. And you may as well know now as any time, there's no use having any hopes about India. I prefer to spend my money in Germany.
Robert. (Confused) What has happened?
Frau Heinecke. You tell him, Father, you're the one that got the check!
Robert. What check?
Heinecke. (Assuming a pose) My son!--one doesn't often seem what one really is--Such things are deeper--For that reason one must always be respectful--you can never tell what is hidden under tattered clothes. Anyone can wear a fur-lined coat.
Robert. Will you please explain what--- Heinecke. Explain?--What is there to explain--Don't look at me like that! What are you looking at me that way for. Mother, I won't stand it!
Frau Heinecke. Go on! Go on!
Heinecke. Well, as I said, it's simple enough. The Herr Councillor was here.
Robert. He? Why didn't you call me.
Heinecke. Ah--In the first place because it was not the young Muhlingk--When your friend comes, then you can receive him. The old gentleman is my friend--We've promised to call on each other. And second: because I don't have to ask my son what is right for me to do--Now you know--See?
Frau Heinecke. Oh, Father!
Heinecke. Don't interrupt me when I'm giving my son a little admonition. From now on I'm not going to be fooled with.
Michalski. (Behind him) That's the way to talk.
Robert. Was the discussion about Alma?
Heinecke. In the first place the discussion was about you. You have been discharged from his service, because of insubordination. Frankly, I expected more gratitude.
Robert. You?
Heinecke. (Sternly) Yes, me! Your honest old father!--It isn't pleasant for me to have my son wander around as a clerk out of a job. Now you've got till four to settle your accounts or it will go hard with you.
Robert. (About to break out--controls himself) Let's talk about Alma! Did he offer satisfaction?
Heinecke. Certainly, absolute.
Robert. (Hesitating, as if saying something foolish) Ah--marriage?
Heinecke. What marriage?
Robert. With his son----
Heinecke. You must be crazy.
Robert. (Anxiously) Well, what else?
Heinecke. (Slyly in his ear) Forty thousand marks! (Aloud) Fine, eh?
Robert. (With a cry) Money!
Frau Heinecke. (Frightened) Lord! I thought so!
Heinecke. Yes, sir! Here it is, good as gold!
Robert. What! you took it?
Heinecke. (Wonderingly) Well?
Robert. He offered you money and you took it! (Against his will he springs toward his father)
Michalski. (Stepping between them) I advise you to leave the old man alone!
Robert. (Reeling back without noticing him) Mother, you took it!
Frau Heinecke. (Folding her hands) We're poor folks, my boy! (Robert sinks down with a strange laugh on the work-stool. Michalski and Auguste gather about Heinecke and Frau Heinecke; Alma sits smiling, with folded hands) God have mercy on us! There's something wrong with him! (Puts her hand on his shoulder) My Boy, take a little advice from your poor old mother. Don't step on your good fortune's toes, for pride dies on the straw.
Robert. Straw wouldn't be the worst. Mother--I shall die on the grave's edge, or in the gutter like a street cur! Only do give the money back--(Desperately) See, I am talking perfectly calmly, perfectly sensibly, I'll show you as plain as day what you must do. That fellow has brought us into disgrace--But we are innocent--We needn't be ashamed before anyone. A man can steal honor just the same as he can steal a purse. No one can prevent that!--But if we let someone buy our honor with cold money, then we have no honor at all--and it serves us right--(Heinecke turns to Michalski, touching his forehead) Heaven knows I understand it all! I'm not critcizing--Really I'm not.--You are poor and you've always been poor. Such a miserable existence! Nothing but worry for daily bread destroys all judgment and all dignity. And now you let yourselves be blinded by a little money!--but believe me, it will never give you pleasure. Nothing will be left but disgust! (Choking) Ah, the disgust! It chokes----
Frau Heinecke. That kind of talk is enough to turn you cold----
Heinecke. So that is my son!
Robert. And don't imagine that you will lose by taking my advice. Look at me! I have learned a few things, haven't I? I'm healthy, I can be trusted, can't I--The few remaining years you can trust to me, can't you?--Can't you see. I want nothing better than to work for you--I'll make you rich! Rich! you can do what you like with me! I'll be your slave! Your pack-horse--Only give back that money!
Heinecke. That's all very well! But a bird in the hand--Let me tell you!
Michalski. You're right there, Father!
Heinecke. I certainly am right!--You run along and chase your sparrows, my boy. I'll keep the bird I've got.
Michalski. Bravo!
Robert. And you, Mother?--(She turns away) You too?--God, what have I left?--Alma, what about you? I offer you everything. Only help me! (He takes her hand. She struggles a little. He draws her toward the center) You've given yourself away. Well, perhaps that's your right. But you won't sell yourself--you can't sell your love in the public market. Alma, tell them that!
Alma. (Angrily) Let me go!
Auguste. He's breaking the kid's arm.
Alma. You've got nothing to say to me any more. (She breaks away)
Robert. Little sister!
Alma. And I'm going to the masked ball, too! Ask mother if I ain't.
Robert. Mother!
Frau Heinecke. Why shouldn't the poor child have a little fun once in a while?
Robert. (Overcome) So we've gone that far?
Michalski. (Sitting in chair, mockingly) Yes, we've gone that far!
Robert. You--Procuror! Get out of that chair! (Michalski remains seated, Robert takes hold of the back of the chair) Get up, I say, and get out of here, both of you!
Michalski. (Threateningly) Now that's a little too fresh!
Robert. (Who has seized the chair) Dare to lay a hand on me!
Frau Heinecke. (Throwing herself between them) You'll break my arm-chair.
Robert. I suppose that comes from our friends on the Avenue whom you hold in such high esteem!
Frau Heinecke. Of course it does!
Robert. From our dear Herr Kurt, I suppose?
Frau Heinecke. Well, yes!
Robert. (With a wild laugh) There it is, then! (He throws the chair to the floor, breaking it and kicking the pieces away from him)
Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) My beautiful arm-chair! (She picks up the pieces carrying them to the left--then she sinks down on stool)
Heinecke. This is getting uncomfortable! (He starts to go out, right)
Robert. (Standing in his way) Will you give that blood-money back? Yes or no?
Heinecke. Give it back? (Contemptuously) Huh!
Robert. Then I'm through with you! and you, too, Mother. Is a man brought into the world for that! To wear dishonor like a birthmark? Very good! If I had to be born, why didn't you leave me in the dirt when I first saw the day? Where I've got to wallow for the rest of my life because my worthy family desires it!
Auguste. Do you hear that, Mother, and he was always your favorite.
Robert. No, no, Mother, don't listen to me! (Kneeling beside her) I said nothing! If I said anything, it was only madness. To-day I feel as though I were cut loose from everything that is human--or natural! Mother, have pity on me! You can save me! Come with me!
Frau Heinecke. (Sobbing) How do I know you won't break the mirror, too! in your blind fits.
Robert. (Looks wildly at mirror, then rises) We speak different languages--We can't understand each other.
Michalski. (Who has been quietly talking to Heinecke. He slaps Robert on the shoulder) Now you've raised enough hell! Get out of here!
Robert. (Pushing him out of the way) Back! (As his parents and sisters surround him with angry cries. Breaks out in hollow laughter) Ah, so that's it! You throw me out?
Michalski. (Opens door) Get out!
(Count Trast appears on threshold.)
Trast. (Slapping Michalski on shoulder) Thank you humbly for the friendly welcome!
Robert. (Recognizing Trast, cries out, then extends his arms as if to urge him away) What do you want here?--In this dive?--Do you know who we are?--We sell ourselves!--(He laughs) Look at me! No, I can't bear it! (He covers his face with hands)
(At the sight of Trast, Alma shamefacedly slinks away. Michalski and Auguste follow her into kitchen.)
Trast. Pull yourself together! What has happened?
Heinecke. (Hat in hand) He acted very undutifully, Count! First he wanted to take us off to India, now he wants to take our money away. I'm just going to the bank--Whole forty thousand marks, Count, I have the honor--(Bowing) Count! (He goes out)
Trast. Yes, I understand. (Lays his hand on Robert's shoulder) Was Herr Muhlingk here?
Robert. My friend! Thank you--I had forgotten!
Trast. What is it?
Robert. He wants my accounts. He shall have them. (Hurries to trunk which he opens and feverishly looks for something)
Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) You can thank the Lord, Count, you're not married! There are right ungrateful sons in this world!
Trast. (To himself) You talk like a mother--(Realising what he has said) Pah! Trast, that wasn't nice!
Frau Heinecke. Ain't I right?
Trast. (Takes her hands in his) A mother is always right. She has suffered and loved too much to be anything else. (Shakes her hand)
Frau Heinecke. But, Count! You shake hands with a poor old woman!
Trast. I have sinned against the mothers, and I must beg forgiveness. And my own not the least. There are worse sons, than yours, my dear woman.
(Robert takes out a leather portfolio, looks through it, and lays it aside. Then he takes out a revolver which he tests.)
Trast. (Aside) Ah, a revolver! This is how he's going to settle accounts!
(Robert, seeing he is observed, quickly hides the revolver in his breast pocket. He takes his hat and portfolio and comes forward.)
Robert. Now I'm ready!
Trast. I'll go with you.
Robert. You?
Trast. Have I the right?
Robert. (Hesitatingly) Good, come!
Frau Heinecke. (Tenderly, in tears) Robert!
Robert. (Tries to conceal his excitement) I--shall come--again--to say--good-bye! Now I have something important to do. (He goes towards the door)
Frau Heinecke. (At the door, wringing her hands) Herr Kurt and him! Oh, there'll be trouble!
Trast. (Aside) Shh! ssh!--Well, are we off?
Robert. (To his mother, in great excitement, tenderly) And if we--don't see each other--(Controlling himself) Good! We'll go!
(Both go out as
THE CURTAIN FALLS.)
ACT IV.
Scene:--Same as in Act II.
(Trast, Wilhelm and Robert discovered. Robert carries a portfolio under his arm.)
Wilhelm. (Aside to Trast) I have strict orders not to let Herr Heinecke in.
Trast. Nor me?
Wilhelm. Oh, with the Count it is a different matter.
Trast. Thank you for the trust you put in me. Herr Heinecke is accompanied by me. I shall be responsible for his presence here. We shall wait for the Herr Councillor.
Wilhelm. But----
Trast. Which do you prefer--specie or paper? (Looking for money in his pocket-book) Is the whole house empty?
Wilhelm. The Herr Councillor has gone to the factory, the Gnadige Frau has a headache, the Gnadiges Fraulein has gone to the city--Herr Kurt likewise.
Trast. Together?
Wilhelm. Oh, they never go together--Herr Kurt wanted to countermand the invitation--because--(Indicates Robert)
Trast. (Gives him money) Good! That's all!
Wilhelm. Nothing further, sir?
Trast. Go.
(Wilhelm bows and goes out)
Trast. Come here, my boy.
Robert. What do you want?
Trast. What do I want? You know I never want anything. These things don't affect me. But the question is: What do you want here--in this house?
Robert. I want to settle my account.
Trast. Of course--we know that--But, inasmuch as you are willing to forego the generous handshake that the workman usually gets at this proud moment, I should think you would send the accounts to the office--and--(With gesture of finality)
Robert. That would be simple enough.
Trast. My dear man, let me talk to you as a friend!
Robert. Go ahead, talk!
Trast. You are pursuing a phantom!
Robert. Really?
Trast. No one has touched your honor.
Robert. Really!
Trast. Because nobody in the world could do it.
Robert. Really, really!
Trast. This thing that you call honor--this mixture of shame, and "tempo," and--honesty and pride, things you have acquired through a civilized existence and as a result of your own loyalty, why this can no more be taken away from you by a piece of treachery than your generosity or your judgment! Either it is a part of yourself or else it doesn't exist at all. The sort of honor that can be destroyed by a blow from a fop's glove has nothing to do with you! That is nothing but a mirror for the dandies, a plaything for the indolent and a perfume to the boulevardier.
Robert. You talk like someone trying to make a virtue out of necessity.
Trast. Perhaps--because every virtue is a direct result of necessity.
Robert. And my family?
Trast. I didn't think you had a family now! (Robert buries his face in his hands) I understand--it's a contraction of the nerves after the limb is amputated.--Don't deceive yourself! Even though the foot still pains you, the leg is gone!
Robert. You never had a sister!
Trast.--Tell me, must I, the aristocrat, learn what abasement means from you, a plebeian? My boy, don't forswear your parents. Don't say that they are worse than you or I.--They are different, that's all. Their sensations are sensations that are strange to you, the point of view they hold is simply beyond your comprehension. Therefore to criticize them is not only narrow-minded, but presumptuous--And you may as well know soon as late: in your struggle with your people you have been wrong from beginning to end!
Robert. Trast, you say that!
Trast. I take the liberty--You come back from a foreign country where you have been associating with triple-plated gentlemen, and then you expect your people, in order to please you, to change the very skins they live in; although they've fitted perfectly all these years! That is immodest, my boy! And your sister has really received back her honor from the family Muhlingk; the honor which she can make use of. For everything on this earth has its price and value. The honor of the Avenue may be paid for with blood--may be, I said. The honor of the Alley is restituted with a little capital, in integrum. (As Robert steps towards him angrily) Don't eat me up! I haven't finished! Yes--what other significance has a girl's honor--and that's what we're concerned with now--than to bring a sort of dowry of pure-heartedness and honesty to her husband. She is there for one purpose and that is marriage! Just be so good as to make a few inquiries in the society from which you come and see if your sister, with the money that has dropped into her lap, can't make a much better match than she otherwise could!
Robert. Trast, you are cruel, you are crude!
Trast. Crude like Nature, cruel like Truth! Only the indolent and the cowardly surround themselves a tout prix with idyllics--But you have nothing to do with them now. Come, give me your hand, shake the dust of home off your feet and don't look back!
Robert. First I must have personal satisfaction.
Trast. So you insist on fighting a duel with him?
Robert. Yes.
Trast. Don't be so old-fashioned.
Robert. Old-fashioned--I may be. Perhaps because I came into the world as a plebeian and because my conception of honor was acquired. I haven't the strength to rise to the heights of your standpoint. Let me go down in my own narrowness if I must.
Trast. But suppose he won't give satisfaction?
Robert. I shall find some way to force him.
Trast. Aha! (Aside) the revolver!--One thing more, my boy; if you have made up your mind to let Herr Kurt put a bullet through you, you must take away every pretext for his refusing.
Robert. Heavens, yes! you are right!
Trast. (Drawing out his pocket-book) Does that embarrass you?
Robert. No, you have done too much for me, for me to ask----
Trast. (Filling out a check) There!
Robert. And if I can never pay that back?
Trast. Then I'll write it in the largest ledger, where the accounts of friendships are kept (Stroking his head) It won't be as bad as that! Hm--my boy--one thing you've forgotten.
Robert. What?
Trast. Leonore.
Robert. (Shuddering) Don't speak of her!
Trast. You love her.
Robert. Oh!--I shan't answer!
Trast. Would you like to have her think of you as the murderer of her brother.
Robert. Better than if she had to think of me as a man without honor.
Trast. (Straightening up) Am I not a so-called "man without honor?" And haven't you found me a good fellow? And don't I carry my head as high as anyone in the world? Shame on you!
Robert. (After a pause) Trast--forgive me!
Trast. Forgive--Nonsense, I like you!--That's enough!
Robert. Trast--I--won't fight--the duel!
Trast. Your word?
Robert. My word!
Trast. Come, then.
Robert. Where?
Trast. How do I know? Into the world.
Robert. Forgive me--shall I?
(Enter Wilhelm.)
Wilhelm. The Herr Councillor has just come into his office.
Trast. (Aside) Kurt not home!--That's good.
Robert. I'll go in. (He takes his portfolio)
Trast. Good! Wait for me!
Robert. What do you want here?
Trast. Never mind about that. Come here. (Aside to Robert) Before you go, give me your revolver.
Robert. (Startled) You know?
Trast. Anyone could see it inside your coat
Robert. Please--let me keep it--or can't you trust me?
Trast. I'm afraid that story of Pepe will go to your head.
Robert. Hasn't a word of honor between two dishonored men any value?
Trast. Good! Keep it, (Robert goes out followed by Wilhelm. Trast is about to follow him, but stops) --Perhaps it was imprudent after all?--But if the youngster comes home, I'll keep them apart. Now there is something else to attend to. If this girl here is what I think she is--(Enter Leonore L. wearing a winter costume) Ah, this is very fortunate.
Leonore. (Giving him her hand. Excitedly) Count, do you know where I've been? To your apartment! (Takes her coat and hat off) Are you shocked at my boldness? But you were the only one to whom I could go to find out what has happened. I was afraid my brother was on the way to ruin that young girl. I suspected it. Has your friend found out?
Trast. If that were all!
Leonore. What else could there be----
Trast. I admit, I really can't find words to----
Leonore. Please tell me!
Trast. Very well! Your parents have considered it necessary to make those poor people forget their trouble--so they appealed to them on their weakest side--namely, by their poverty.
Leonore. Do you mean to say that?--that--they--bought my brother's--(As Trast nods) Oh, God!
Trast. It goes without saying that personally I offer no criticism of them whatever. That is the customary means of ending such relationships. But I am afraid for my friend.
Leonore. (Her face in her hands) How can I ever make it up to him?
Trast. Do you feel that it is your duty?
Leonore. My duty? My whole being revolts against this disgusting practice of my home!--Pay!--always pay! pay for honor, pay for love, pay for justice! We can afford it, we have the money. (Throws herself into a chair. Then springing up) Forgive me! I don't know what I'm doing! I spoke of my family as though they were strangers.
Trast. Perhaps they are more strangers to you than you think!
Leonore. (Confused) If you were only right! (As he appears to listen to something outside) What is it?
Trast. Isn't that your brother's voice?
Leonore. (At the door) Yes, with some of his friends.
Trast. (Aside) I shouldn't have let him keep the revolver. (Taking his hat) Is he going to the office?
Leonore. No, I think they are coming here.
Trast. (Putting his hat down again) Good, I will wait for him--One thing, Fraulein--My friend leaves this house to-day; he leaves the city to-morrow and perhaps Europe in a short time.
Leonore. (To herself) Oh, God!
Trast. But to-day I should like to prevent a meeting between him and your brother. If that meeting does occur, without my being able to prevent it, I should like you to remain in the vicinity.
Leonore. (She nods; voices are heard at the door. She hurries to the left, then turns) What shall I do. Count?
Trast. Be true to him!
Leonore. I will! (She goes)
Trast. Now--the brother!
(Enter Kurt, Lothar and Hugo.)
Kurt. (Surprised) Count!
Lothar. (Aside) Good thing we came with you!
Trast. I should like a few words with you, Herr Muhlingk.
Kurt. Sorry, but I am very pressed for time; my father is waiting for me!
Trast. (Aside) Oho!--(To Kurt) It's a personal favor.
Kurt. I have no secrets from my friends, Count. (They sit down)
Trast. Someone, a great friend of mine, has suffered deeply because of his honor. On my advice and as a favor to me he has foregone sending you a challenge.
Kurt. You are mistaken, Count; Herr Heinecke received satisfaction.
Lothar. We could allow no other satisfaction.
Trast. (Looks at him from head to foot) We won't go into that any further, Herr Muhlingk. My friend at this moment is with your father, settling his accounts in person.
Kurt, Well, that is his privilege.
Trast. He is to have an interview with him at the same time.
Kurt. That is also his privilege. Count.
Trast. In an hour my friend will have left this establishment. In consideration of the strain of excitement under which he is probably suffering at present, it would be to the advantage of both sides if a meeting between you could be avoided.
Lothar. That----
Trast, (Quietly) Herr Lieutenant, I have not as yet taken the liberty of addressing you! Herr Muhlingk, let us consider this seriously. You are speaking with some one who has your material welfare at heart--not out of sympathy, I am free to admit--Therefore, I may speak to you almost as a friend, don't let these gentlemen intimidate you.
Hugo. No, don't let us intimidate you!
Trast. And consider this! I don't dare think of the wrong I have done that man--you will--you'll do me this favor?
Lothar. (Behind Kurt) Now show him!
Kurt. I have nothing to say, Count, because I find it impossible to choose words to express my astonishment at your extraordinary request.