(Alma appears at the half-open door. She wears a yellow jacket and a coquettish little hat. She wears suede gloves and many bracelets. She carries a fancy parasol.)
Alma. Good morning, everybody.
Robert. (Runs to her and embraces her) Alma! Thank God!
Michalski. (To Auguste) The two swells of the family!
Auguste. (Lovingly) Listen: little sister, if you were as ugly as you are pretty, you wouldn't take long to find out that your brother hated you.
Alma. Auguste, that's mean.
Robert. Oh, she didn't mean anything. Now be good again!
Alma. (Affected) My own dear brother!
Auguste. (Aside) Lord, ain't it touching!
(Frau Heinecke helps Alma off with her jacket.)
Heinecke. Now what do you say? (Stroking her cheek) Are you my little treasure or not, eh?
Alma. (Trilling) "Oui, cher papa! c'est Girofla!"
Heinecke. Do you hear how she sings? Real Italian!
Robert. Now what's this I hear: you want to be a great singer?
Alma. Well, I'd not object to that!
Frau Heinecke. Won't you cat a little piece of pound-cake, Alma?
Alma. Merci beaucoup! (Goes about in front of the mirror, eating)
Robert. And you are studying hard?
Alma. (Her mouth full of cake) I have lessons every afternoon--Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si--si, la, sol,--fa--Oh, those scales! Terrible bore! And practice--Eternal practice!--My nerves are ruined already!
Frau Heinecke. Poor child!
Alma. "Oh, yes. Ma!"[5] I've been studying English, too! I'm awfully cultured.--Oh, what I've learned!
Heinecke. Yes sir! D'ye see!
Alma. And above all--we only live once--have a good time, that's the main thing! Are you happy, too, brother?
Robert. Certainly, when I have reason to be.
Alma. The great art is to be happy without any reason. Why are we young? Oh, it's good to live! Every day something new!--And Berlin is so lovely! You know--the Linden!--and the electric light! Have you seen it yet? That's what I like the best of all. Everybody is so pretty and pale, so interesting!--And the restaurants have all got electric lights now, too. Grand!--I saw a chandelier in a cafe in the Donhoffplatz--it was a great big wreath of flowers and every flower had a light in it!
Robert. Were you in the cafe?
Alma. I? How could I be? Through the window it was! You don't have things like that in India? Do you?
Robert. No, we certainty don't.
Alma. We're pretty far advanced in culture here. Somebody told me that Berlin was almost as beautiful as Paris. Is that so?
Robert. I don't know Paris, dear.
Alma. Ugh! That's a shame! Every young man ought to know Paris.
Robert. (Charmed, yet shocked by her vulgarity) You little silly!
Alma. Ha I ha! ha! I'm a funny one! don't you think? Ha! ha! Yes, that's the way! (She goes about laughing, and rocks back and forth. She takes a little handkerchief, which she carries folded in triangular form in her belt; and holds it under Auguste's nose) Smell it?
Auguste. (Aside) Fine! What's that?
Alma. (Aside) Ixora, the very latest from Paris--got it to-day!
Auguste. Coming out to-night?
Alma. Don't know! He'll send me word--But to-morrow evening we're going to the masked ball! Ha! ha!
Robert. Now let's be sensible again, little one. Come here--Sit down--Here! Here!
Alma. Heavens! How you act! This is going to be a regular cross-examination!
Robert. I'm going to ask you a lot of questions.
(Frau and Herr Heinecke group themselves about Alma's chair. Michalski sits on the work table, Auguste beside him on the stool.)
Alma. Go ahead! S'il vous plait. Monsieur!
Michalski. (Aside to Auguste) This will be a nice mess!
Robert. How did you happen to discover this talent?
Alma. It comes like love--can't tell how!
Robert. (Unpleasantly affected) Hum--But someone must have told you about it!
(Alma shrugs her shoulders.)
Frau Heinecke. Don't you remember, child? It was Herr Kurt that----
Robert. The young manager?
Heinecke. Certainly.
Robert. But how did he know----?
Frau Heinecke. He heard her singing--through the window on the court. And the next thing, he said it was a sin and a shame that a voice like hers----
Robert. But why do you let Mother tell everything, Alma?
Auguste. (To Michalski) She's so modest.
Alma. That a voice like mine should be wasted here in the alley--and that I should not be wasted here in the alley, for that matter! It's really an imposition on you, Gnadiges Fraulein, he said!
Frau Heinecke. I heard that myself: "Gnadiges Fraulein!"
Heinecke. My daughter, yes sir!
Robert. Go ahead. Alma!
Alma. My parents took care of your brother, he said,--I'll take care of you!--Well, and then he found a teacher for me who held a cercle musical--that means a musical circle--made up of young ladies of the best families.--One is engaged to a lieutenant of the Hussars.
Robert. And what is the teacher's name?
Alma. (Suspiciously) What do you want to know for?
Robert. Because it can't be any secret!
Alma. Her name is Signora Paulucci.
Heinecke. (Enthusiastically) Real Italian!
Robert. (Taking out his note-book) And her address?
Alma. (Quickly) You don't need to go there. It's true!
Robert. Of course it's true. But I'd like to hear the teacher's own opinion about your voice. (Alma looks quickly toward Auguste)
Auguste. You can go to her lesson with her tomorrow.
Alma. Yes, to-morrow!
Robert. Good! (Gets up and walks back and forth excitedly) I don't want to make you feel badly, dear, but I must admit I don't share your great hopes.
Heinecke. Eh?
Robert. How many a young girl is enticed into these things purely through ambition and vanity! And it's dangerous! More dangerous than you realize--Of course I am sure that the young manager has the highest and the noblest of motives, but--Well, however that may be, to-morrow I'll hear myself what the teacher says, and if my doubts are groundless, I promise to take care of you myself, and we shan't rest a moment until you have reached the climax of your art! (Alma takes the vase from the table and buries her face in the flowers) Wouldn't it be strange if we were to owe everything--even this piece of good fortune--to the house of Muhlingk!
(Michalski laughs mockingly.)
Alma. Mama, who sent me this bouquet?
Frau Heinecke. That's a welcome to--(Indicates Robert) from the Gnadiges Fraulein!
Alma. Oh, from her! (She puts down the vase)
Robert. Wait a minute! One question! It seems that every time I mention the "Avenue" or any of the family, someone bursts out laughing, or makes some disapproving remark. Herr Muhlingk junior is the only one who seems to meet with your approval. Now, frankly, what have you against our benefactor? What has he done to offend you? (A pause) You, for instance. Brother-in-law, what made you laugh so scornfully? (Silence) Or you. Alma, that you won't have anything to do with the flowers that came from Miss Muhlingk! Mother just told me how kind she has always been!
Alma. Kind, is she? She's a stuck-up thing, that can't poke her nose high enough in the air when she meets me!--Never says a word to me; why, it's all she can do to return my bow! Oh, she----!
Auguste. She's the same way to me.
Robert. (Sorrowfully, to himself) That isn't like her!
Frau Heinecke. (Tenderly) Just wait till she marries my boy!
Robert. (Shocked,--interrupting her) Mother! But I'd forgotten: I've brought some presents for my sisters, and you, too, Brother-in-law.
Auguste. (Jumping up greedily) What have you got? Where is it?
Robert. In the bed-room. There's a card with each one's name on it.
(The three, Auguste ahead, hurry into the bedroom.)
Heinecke. And you've got nothing for us?
Robert. There wasn't anything out there good enough for you, dear parents. Tell me what you want?
Frau Heinecke. If I should see the day when I had a sofa to match them arm-chairs--(She sees that Robert is staring ahead without listening to her) But you ain't listening!
Robert. (Sadly reproving) No, mother, I wasn't listening!
Heinecke. (Defiantly) And I want a new paste-pot--you ought to be able to afford that! (The three come back from the bedroom. Auguste carries a colored shawl, Alma a jewel-case, Michalski a Turkish pipe. They surround Robert and thank him)
Auguste. What a pity they don't wear Indian shawls any more!
Michalski. (Puffing at the stem of his pipe) Course it don't draw!
Robert. (To Alma, who is playing with her jewels) Are you satisfied, Alma? Look at the three blue stones, they are Indian sapphire.
Alma. Very pretty! But to tell the truth, I like the dark-blue sapphires more! They have such beautiful brilliancy!
Robert. How do you know so much about such things?
Alma. Oh--from the shop windows! People of our sort like to look in windows!
Robert. And what's that shining in your ear?
Alma. Paste, that's all! Two Marks a pair!
Robert. Dear, you mustn't wear things like that!--Promise me you'll take them off this minute--and I'll show you another special surprise that I've brought you.
Alma. (Sullenly, taking off the ear-rings) As you please!
Robert. It's the dress of a hindoo Princess--looted on a military invasion undertaken by a friend of mine. Think of it! Pink and gold!
Alma. (Joyfully) Oh, how heavenly!
Michalski. (Laughing) And I s'pose you hung her up stark naked on a tree!
(Robert stares at him.)
Alma. (Lovingly) You're a dear, sweet, old brother!
(A coachman in livery knocks at the window.)
Frau Heinecke. Go, see what Johann wants, Father.
Alma. (To Auguste) Oh, but they'll all turn green with envy when I wear this to the masked ball to-morrow.
Auguste. Shh!
Heinecke. (From the window) Johann says Herr Kurt is going to drive to the city at three, and he wants to know if you'd like to go along.
(Alma and Auguste exchange glances.)
Robert. What does that mean?
Auguste. Simple enough! Herr Kurt has his carriage, and since he's an obliging young man he gave Alma a standing invitation to ride to the city with him.
Robert. What? She allowed that? You, sister, you accepted that?
Alma. A poor girl ought to be glad enough to ride in a carriage once in a while!
Frau Heinecke. And you save car-fare!
Robert. Good heavens! And what do the ladies on the Avenue say to that?
Alma. Oh, they don't know anything about it! When I ride with him he stops the carriage at the back doorway where only the tradespeople go in.
Robert. So much the worse! What a disgusting implication in all this secrecy! Alma, haven't you felt that yourself?--Alma, come here!--Look me in the eyes.
Alma. (Staring at him) Well?
Robert. (Takes her head in both his) You are pure!--you are--(He kisses her cheeks and forehead)
Heinecke. Decide, now! Johann is waiting!
Robert. Tell Johann, Father, that I'll speak to his master about it first.
Alma. What for? It's all been arranged already.
Robert. You won't use Herr Muhlingk's carriage any more! For a girl of your--our position, there is always the street-car!
(Alma begins to cry defiantly.)
Frau Heinecke. The poor child!
Auguste. You seem to want to turn everything in this house upside down!
(Children's voices are heard in the court.)
Heinecke. Come here!--Quick!--A Moor!--in a turban!
All. (Except Robert, who remains, troubled, rush to the window) That's not a Moor!
Alma. (Still sobbing) Robert--is that--a Moor?
Robert. (Darkly) No, that's my friend's Indian servant.
Frau Heinecke. Your friend?--is that the count?
Robert. Yes.
(The servant comes in, and they crowd about him.)
Robert. Ragharita, your master is welcome in the house of my father!
(Servant goes out. Great excitement. Frau Heinecke draws out the arm-chairs and polishes the mirror.)
Alma. (From the mirror) Is your count young or old? (Robert makes no answer) My eyes are red!--Red as fire, aren't they, Auguste? And he may be young! (She goes out, left)
Michalski. Come, Auguste, we won't disturb the great gentlemen!
Heinecke. Herr Count, I'll say, take a seat in this arm-chair, I'll say! Oh, we know how to act with the nobility!
Frau Heinecke. There was a baron here once--a gentleman friend of Herr Kurt. Don't you remember, Father? He came to ask after Alma--But a count! we never had a count!
Robert. Who did you say had been here, Mother?
(Enter Count Trast, a man between forty and fifty, with gray hair and a long, blond beard. He is dressed with careless foreign elegance. Robert rushes to him and takes his hand.)
Trast. (Aside to Robert) How is this? Hasn't the home fever abated yet! (Aloud) So here we have the long-expected son! (Shakes his hand) Do you know, my fine people, that a sort of foster-son of yours is standing here? The friendship with this dear old comrade of mine gives me almost a right to that title!
(Heinecke tiptoes out of the door.)
Frau Heinecke. Wouldn't the Count like a piece of pound-cake? There is still some there.
Trast. Thanks, I shall be glad--I certainly shall!
(Frau Heinecke curtseys out of the room.)
Trast. You're pale, my boy, and your hands are shaking--what's wrong?
Robert. Oh, nothing! The happiness--the excitement! It's only natural!
Trast. Naturally! (Aside) He's lying! (To Robert) Tell me, how long do you intend to stay here? I want to regulate my stay in this great Europe by that!
Robert. That's impossible, my friend! Our ways will have to part!
Trast. Nonsense!
Robert. I shall ask my employer to give me a position here. The climate in India--you understand----?
Trast. That's pleasant! He doesn't want to leave his mother's apron-strings again, eh?
Robert. Don't make fun of me. Since we're going to part--I have to say it some time--I thank you, you kind old wicked fellow, for all you've done for me. It was the most fortunate moment of my life when you saw me standing feverishly behind my young employer in the Club at Buitenzorg, when he was throwing one hundred-gulden note after the other onto the green cloth.
Trast. Why was I such a fool? If you're going to--Ugh! It isn't decent!
Robert. Trast! don't hurt me. See, I owe everything to you. When I heard your name then--the name of Trast and Company that is known from Yokohama to Aden, I felt as though I were standing before the Kaiser himself!
Trast. Kaiser, by the grace of coffee!
Robert. Muhlingk's undertaking in Batavia was on the road to ruin that minute.
Trast. No wonder, when it had the worst good-for-nothing in the Archipelago for its head.
Robert. There was nothing ahead of me but failure and discharge. And then you took the poor home-sick clerk under your pinion, your name opened a hundred doors for me and I grew up into manhood under your care! And Herr Benno Muhlingk led his merry life as he pleased, and I ran the entire business.
Trast. And the end of the story is that the firm of Muhlingk, along with its clever representative, is a few thousands richer because of us. It's a shame! you ought to have profited by it yourself. Well, I'll open your employer's eyes to the kind of a man you've been! If he doesn't at least make you a partner, I shall declare such a corner in coffee, in my righteous wrath, that the noble German oak-leaf[6] shall be valued as never before. But, seriously, why do you insist on this caprice of remaining with the Muhlingks? I offer you a tremendous salary and a pair of trousers every Christmas. (Robert shakes his head) It isn't only gratitude that makes a man cling to such an insane idea! Of course if the inventory of the firm included a fair German maiden--(Aside) Aha! (To Robert) Speaking of maidens, just listen to what happened to me last night. After we had left each other I wandered aimlessly along the street. A friendly poster invited into a masked ball. A hundred Indian dancers were to present their exciting dance according to the advertisement--well, that is my specialty--I went in. Everything seemed arranged to lead a young monk to forget his oath. And then suddenly there came before me a young girl, tender and fresh as a half-ripe peach. She seemed to be without a partner. I presented myself. Not at all bashful, she begged for a little plaything that hung on my watch-chain, in a little baby voice. It was my patron saint Ganesa, god of success, who rides on a little rat. And I smelled a rat myself. What do you suppose I found beneath her childish innocence? Naif depravity!
Robert. (Nervously) Are such things possible?
Trast. Listen. My heart always beats according to the tempo required by the custom of the land whose hospitality I am enjoying. I always keep a harem in the Orient; in Italy I climb the garden wall by moonlight, in France I pay the dressmaker's bills, and--Lord!--in Germany--well, I know the return journey from virtue, too! All according to rule! In the Orient one loves with his senses, in Italy with his imagination, in France with his pocketbook, in Germany with his conscience! So I tried to change this sinning child to a repentant Magdalen. Before I could get started, however, the champagne had to be uncorked--then came a gentleman, half demon and half fool, and claimed the lady as his own. I respected the ancient law of precedence, and went to bed the poorer by one good act. But I would give a good deal to know how it happened that a sweet little thing like--(Robert covers his face with his hands) Good Lord!--what is it?--Shh!
(Enter Frau Heinecke.)
Frau Heinecke. Bobby!
Robert. Mother!
Frau Heinecke. Have you got a corkscrew by you? (To Trast) My daughter would like to offer you a bottle of wine. It's no ordinary wine, either, it's the best there is!
Robert. Comes from the Avenue, I suppose?
Frau Heinecke. (Proudly) It does indeed.
Robert. There! (Throws down his knife on the table)
Frau Heinecke. How you do act!
Robert. Yes, I forgot!--Forgive me!
(Frau Heinecke goes out.)
Trast. Now confess, my boy! Trust in me!
Robert. Oh, if I had only never seen my home again!
Trast. Ha! so that's where the wind blows from.
Robert. I am ashamed of the position I was born in. My own people have become nothing to me. My whole being shudders from contact with them. I can't trust my mind, one mad suspicion follows the other! Trast! I almost believe I don't even respect the breast that nursed me!
Trast. That's simply rot!
Robert. If I could only explain what I have suffered! Every serious word strikes me like a blow! And every pleasantry like a slap in the face! It seems as though they could talk of nothing but what hurts me--I thought I was coming back to a home,--instead of that it's a strange world where I dare hardly breathe!--Advise me what to do!
Trast. Pack your trunk!
Robert. That would be a cowardly and heartless retreat! Do they deserve that--My own parents!
Trast. Listen--drop the pathetic note--The matter is simple enough for us. We've studied caste in its native wilds. The same castes exist here. They aren't established by food-laws, or marriage-rules and religious etiquette; those were simple. The chasm that can't be bridged is the difference of feeling--each caste has its own sense of honor, its own nice distinctions, its own ideas, yes, even its own speech. Unhappy is the man who has fallen out of his own caste and hasn't the courage to cut himself off from it entirely. Just such a declasse are you!--and you know, I was the same thing myself! Just what you are feeling now, I went through years ago. How do you suppose I felt, chic young cavalry officer, when I woke one morning to the realization that I had gambled away ninety thousand talers that had to be paid in twenty-four hours. What good did it do me to ride home and throw myself at my father's feet? He would have put his head in pawn to save the honor of our name--but he had already done so! And, since he had nothing else to give me, he gave me at least his curse!
Robert. (Brooding) How you had the courage to live after that!
Trast. Do you know what happened then?
Robert. (Absently, tortured by his own thoughts) I know nothing--nothing--nothing!
Trast. Then listen to me! Perhaps it may be of use to you. When my comrades said farewell to me they did me the last favor of placing a cocked revolver on my table. I looked at the matter from all sides. I took for granted that, without my honor I could not live. Then, as I pointed the thing to my forehead the thought came to me--this is brutal, this is silly! How different are you to-day from what you were three days ago? Perhaps you deserved punishment for having promised money that you didn't have; but not death! For thousands of years men have enjoyed the light of the sun without letting the phantom of honor darken it. To-day nine hundred and ninety thousands of people belong to that same class, live as they did, and work as they did, and enjoy the sun as they did! Twelve years later--of course my debt was long since cancelled--when I came back to Europe a sort of reconciliation took place between my father and me. But it was only an outward reconciliation. If he had found me, like a prodigal son, lying on his doorstep, he would have lifted me up from the dirt with trembling hands and pressed me to his bosom. Since I carried my head a little defiantly and was in a position to help him out with half a million or so he couldn't forgive me. A few weeks later I left. The rich coffee seller and the poor cavalier had nothing in common.
Robert. And now he's dead!
Trast. May he find peace in the heaven he believed in! Now the moral: leave your parents their point of view. You can't change that. Give where there is need--give all you have, and then--come with me!
Robert. I can't! Listen, I'll tell you why. I didn't tell you before because I was ashamed. I have a little sister, she was a baby when I left. Oh, how I longed to see her and looked forward to the meeting! And I wasn't disappointed, for she was prettier and sweeter than I had hoped! But my love for her before a thousand fears I am afraid to mention! For what she does and lets others do with her--in perfect innocence, of course--goes against every feeling of honor I possess! Just now when you were telling about that girl in the dance-hall; a cold shiver went through me! Because--no, no, a thousand times no! Here is my place! I must stay here, to stand or fall!
Trast. I admit you have reasons that are at least worth considering. But you are excited. I'll wager you are looking at the dark side!
Robert. Would to God! (He sits down)
(Enter Alma, with a tea-tray, upon which is a bottle of wine and three glasses. The Count makes a start, Alma cries out. The tea-tray almost falls)
Trast. (Quickly seizing the situation, steps to her aid) Came near being a catastrophe, Fraulein! (Aside) It is a catastrophe!
Robert. See, Trast, this is she! Isn't she an angel? There, give him your hand, and tell him he's welcome!
Alma. (Aside) Don't tell on me--eh?
Trast. (Aside) Poor devil! How can I get him out of it?
CURTAIN.
ACT II.
Scene:--The drawing-room in the Muhlingk's house (The "Vorderhaus"). The furnishings are rich but rather stiff. At the back, a wide door hung with portieres opens into the dining-room. On the left, beside a fire-place is a sofa and an oval table. Beside it a rocking-chair. In the dining-room the richly set table can be seen. Dinner is over and a servant is clearing away the things. Herr Muhlingk, Frau Muhlingk, Kurt and Leonore are drinking coffee in the drawing-room. The servant who has passed the cups goes out.
Kurt. As I remarked before, the black horse is fine!
Kurt. Expensive it certainly is!
Frau Muhlingk. I shall make up the rest of the money, just to stop the argument.
Kurt. (Kisses her hand) My best thanks, Mama;--Now I can show myself to Berlin mounted and spurred!--You can admire me, too, Lori!
Leonore. (Without looking up from her book) Yes, my dear.
Kurt. Lothar Brandt and Hugo Stengel wanted to come out to see the beast. Perhaps that doesn't interest you either, Lori?
Leonore. They will probably come often. They haven't anything else to do. (Looking at the clock--aside) Oh, how the time drags! (The servant goes out)
Frau Muhlingk. You must not speak so harshly about these gentlemen, my child. You know Lothar wants to pay court to you.
Leonore. Really?
Frau Muhlingk. Haven't you noticed it?
Leonore. I haven't paid any particular attention.
Frau Muhlingk. (To her husband) It's unbearable, Theodore!
Muhlingk. We've had enough of this tone, my child. Even the pride in your paternal bank account has its limits.
Leonore. (Looking at him) Pride in the paternal bank account?
Muhlingk. Well, how can we explain this manner you have assumed for the last ten years, sending home every rich and respected man who has proposed to you?--I am a simple, middle-class man. I made my own way with my own help----
Kurt. That is to say, he married a rich wife.
Muhlingk. What's that, Kurt?
Kurt. An exclamation of admiration, Father; nothing else.
Muhlingk. No, I didn't have it as easy as you, my boy. You might well follow my example. I don't like to play the spender and I don't care to see it in my children, either. That is the only way one can live tastefully!
Kurt. --and cheap, too!
Leonore. Your accusation doesn't apply to me, papa.
Frau Muhlingk. Will you condescend to give us an explanation then?
Leonore. Mama!
Frau Muhlingk. (Nervously) Well?
Leonore. (Rising) Oh, why can't you let me work out my own salvation? I am modest enough--I only ask to be allowed to live my own life.
Muhlingk. You call that modest? If that is modest, what is to become of the sanctity of family ties?
Frau Muhlingk. (To her husband) Do you hear that? I haven't slept for nights and nights!
Leonore. Because of me, mama?
Frau Muhlingk. Every day these mad ideas, these unconventional acts! Now what does it mean this time, when you plunder the hothouse to send flowers to a clerk!
Leonore. You mean Robert?
Frau Muhlingk. The young Herr Heinecke, I mean.
Leonore. He isn't a clerk. He is almost a member of the family!
Kurt. Oh, thank you.
Frau Muhlingk. (Mildly) That is, we brought him up out of the gutter.
Muhlingk. (As the servant enters) Eh?
Wilhelm. The young Herr Heinecke from the alley sends word that he will take the liberty of----
(Leonore looks at the clock involuntarily.)