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Title: Hands Around [Reigen]
A Cycle of Ten Dialogues
Author: Arthur Schnitzler
Translator: L. D. Edwards
F. L. Glaser
Release Date: November 12, 2016 [EBook #53513]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
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HANDS AROUND
[REIGEN]
A Cycle of Ten Dialogues
By
ARTHUR SCHNITZLER
Completely Rendered
Into English
Authorized Translation
NEW YORK
Privately Printed for Subscribers
MCMXX
Copyright, 1920
By
A. KOREN
Humanity seems gayest when dancing on the brink of a volcano. The culture of a period preceding a social cataclysm is marked by a spirit of light wit and sophisticated elegance which finds expression in a literature of a distinct type. This literature is light-hearted, audacious and self-conscious. It can treat with the most charming insouciance subjects which in another age would have been awkward or even vulgar. But with the riper experience of a period approaching its end the writers feel untrammeled in the choice of theme by pride or prejudice knowing that they will never transgress the line of good taste.
So it was in the declining days of the Roman civilization when Lucian of Samosata wrote his Dialogues of the Hetærai and countless poets penned their intricate epigrams on the art and experience of love. So it was in England when the fine vigor of the Elizabethan and Miltonic age gave way to the Restoration and the calculating brilliance of a Congreve or a Wycherly.
But the exquisite handling of the licentious was elaborated into a perfect technique in eighteenth century France. The spirit of the Rococo with its predilection for the well-measured pose was singularly well adapted to the artistic expression of what in a cruder age could only have been voiced with coarseness and vulgarity. In the literature of this period we meet again the spirit that animates the gracious paintings of Watteau and Fragonard. The scenes we admire in their panels recur in literary style in works like Choderlos de Laclos’ Liaisons dangereuses and Louvet de Couvray’s Les amours du Chevalier de Faublas. Again the same note is heard in Beaumarchais’ Le Mariage de Figaro, in which the society of the period is travestied with brilliant wit and worldly philosophy. The court of Louis XVI., quite unaware, looked on and applauded a play which Napoleon later characterized as “the revolution already in action.”
During the closing years of the nineteenth century a similar spirit has hovered over Vienna, when it was the last and staunchest stronghold of aristocracy in the modern world. Its literature reflected the charm of a fastidious amatory etiquette which is forbidden in sterner and soberer environment, while it gayly ignored the slow gathering of the clouds which foreshadowed its own catastrophe[xi] and martyrdom. As Percival Pollard once so well put it: “All that rises out of that air has had fascination, grace, insinuation, and intrigue. Neither tremendous passion nor tremendous problems have stirred, to all appearances, these polite artists of Vienna. Passion might be there, but what was to be artistically expressed was, rather, the witty or ironically mournful surfaces of passion.”
The literary master of this world is concededly Arthur Schnitzler, in whom are curiously combined the sophisticated elegance of the Viennese man of letters and the disenchanting wisdom of the practising physician. He was born in Vienna in 1862, the son of a doctor. He studied medicine himself, took his degree in 1885, and was for two years connected with a hospital. Since then he has practised privately, and has also found the time to write a long series of plays, both in prose and verse, several novels, and many shorter stories. Of these a considerable number have appeared in English.
Reigen, here translated as Hands Around, is a series of ten comedies—miniatures in dialogue between man and woman in various ages and walks of life. But transgressing the merely literary they are psychological studies of the interplay of sex, and keen analyses of the sophisticated modern[xii] soul, done with freedom and finesse. There are no grim questions of right and wrong in these subtle revelations of the merely human. In fact one might call them studies in the etiquette of the liaison and all its nuances.
The cycle begins with a girl of the streets and a soldier. Then come the soldier and a parlor-maid, the parlor-maid and a young man, the young man and a young wife, the young wife and her husband, the husband and a sweet young miss, the sweet young miss and a poet, the poet and an actress, the actress and a count, until finally the cycle is completed with the count and the girl of the streets. A vicious circle, some may say, and such it surely would have been in the hands of a lesser artist than Schnitzler, for he would only have made the book hideously fleshly, instead of a marvelous psychological study in the ecstacies and disillusions of love and the whole tragedy of human wishes unsatisfied even in their apparent gratification.
But as it is the silken portières of discreet alcoves are opened quietly before our eyes, and we hear the whisper of the most intimate secrets. But with all their realism there is no word in these dialogues which could antagonize the susceptibilities of any sincere student or true lover of humanity. All stratagems of sex are uncovered not through[xiii] the curious observations of a faunic mind, but through the finer eyes of a connoisseur of things human.
The Puritan fanatic with his jaundiced inhibitions or the moral ideologist with his heart of leather may toss the book aside resentful because of its inherent truth. The philosopher of human life, taking the larger aspect of this drama, will close it with the serene smile of understanding.
Any attempt to turn a dialogue so full of delicate shades as is this of Schnitzler into a language like English, whose genius tends rather toward a graphic concreteness and realism, is full of pitfalls and difficulties. The translators, however, hope that they have accomplished their task with reasonable success, thinking always of the spirit rather than the letter. They also take this occasion to express their appreciation to Dr. Arthur Schnitzler for his kindness in granting them his authorization for this translation of Reigen.
F. L. G.
L. D. E.
New York
1920
Late in the evening near the Augarten Bridge.
Soldier
(Enters whistling, on his way home)
Girl
Hello, my beautiful angel!
Soldier
(Turns and continues on his way)
Girl
Don’t you want to come with me?
Soldier
Oh, I am the beautiful angel?
Girl
Sure, who else? Do come with me. I live very near here.
Soldier
I’ve no time. I must get back to the barracks.
Girl
You’ll get to your barracks in plenty of time. It’s much nicer with me.
Soldier
(Close to her) That’s possible.
Girl
Ps-st! A guard may pass any minute.
Soldier
Rot! A guard! I carry a saber too!
Girl
Ah, come with me.
Soldier
Let me alone. I have no money anyway.
Girl
I don’t want any money.
Soldier
(Stopping. They are under a street-lamp) You don’t want any money? What kind of a girl are you, then?
Girl
The civilians pay me. Chaps like you don’t have to pay me for anything.
Soldier
Maybe you’re the girl my pal told me about.
Girl
I don’t know any pal of yours.
Soldier
You’re she, all right! You know—in the café down the street—He went home with you from there.
Girl
Lots have gone home with me from that café… Oh, lots!
Soldier
All right. Let’s go!
Girl
So, you’re in a hurry now?
Soldier
Well, what are we waiting for? Anyhow, I must be back at the barracks by ten.
Girl
Been in service long?
Soldier
What business is that of yours? Is it far?
Girl
Ten minutes’ walk.
Soldier
That’s too far for me. Give me a kiss.
Girl
(Kissing him) I like that best anyway—when I love some one.
Soldier
I don’t. No, I can’t go with you. It’s too far.
Girl
Say, come to-morrow afternoon.
Soldier
Sure. Give me your address.
Girl
But maybe you won’t come.
Soldier
If I promise!
Girl
Look here—if my place is too far to-night—there … there…
(She points toward the Danube)
Soldier
What’s there?
Girl
It’s nice and quiet there, too … no one is around.
Soldier
Oh, that’s not the real thing.
Girl
It’s always the real thing with me. Come, stay with me now. Who knows, if we’ll be alive to-morrow.
Soldier
Come along then—but quick.
Girl
Be careful! It’s dark here. If you slip, you’ll fall in the river.
Soldier
Would be the best thing, perhaps.
Girl
Sh-h. Wait a minute. We’ll come to a bench soon.
Soldier
You seem to know this place pretty well.
Girl
I’d like to have you for a sweetheart.
Soldier
I’d fight too much.
Girl
I’d cure you of that soon enough.
Soldier
Humph—
Girl
Don’t make so much noise. Sometimes a guard stumbles down here. Would you believe we are in the middle of Vienna?
Soldier
Come here. Come over here.
Girl
You are crazy! If we slipped here, we’d fall into the river.
Soldier
(Has grabbed her) Oh you—
Girl
Hold tight to me.
Soldier
Don’t be afraid…
Girl
It would have been nicer on the bench.
Soldier
Here or there, it doesn’t matter to me… Well, pick yourself up.
Girl
What’s your hurry—?
Soldier
I must get to the barracks. I’ll be late anyhow.
Girl
Say, what’s your name?
Soldier
What’s that to you?
Girl
My name is Leocadia.
Soldier
Humph! I never heard such a name before.
Girl
Listen!
Soldier
Well, what do you want?
Girl
Give me just a dime for the janitor.
Soldier
Humph!… Do you think I’m your meal-ticket? Good-by, Leocadia…
Girl
Tightwad! Pimp!
(He disappears)
Prater Gardens. Sunday Evening. A road which leads from the Wurstelprater[1] into dark tree arcades. Confused music from the Wurstelprater can still be heard; also strains from the cheap dancehall, a vulgar polka, played by a brass band. The Soldier. The Parlor-Maid.
Maid
Now tell me why you wanted to leave.
Soldier
(Grins sheepishly)
Maid
It was so beautiful and I so love to dance.
Soldier
(Puts his arm around her waist)
Maid
(Submitting) But we aren’t dancing now. Why do you hold me so tight?
Soldier
What’s your name? Katy?
Maid
You’ve always got a “Katy” on your mind.
Soldier
I know—I know … Marie.
Maid
Goodness, it’s dark here. I’m afraid.
Soldier
You needn’t be afraid when I’m with you. I can take care of myself!
Maid
But where are we going? There’s no one around. Come, let’s go back!… It’s so dark!
Soldier
(Pulling at his cigar until it glows brightly) There … it’s already getting brighter. Ha—! Oh, you dearie!
Maid
Oh! what are you doing there? If I had known this before!
Soldier
The devil take me, if any one at the dance to-day felt softer and rounder than you, Miss Marie.
Maid
Did you find it out in the same way with all the others?
Soldier
You notice things … dancing. You find out lots that way!
Maid
But you danced much oftener with that cross-eyed blonde than with me.
Soldier
She’s an old friend of one of my pals.
Maid
Of the corporal with the upturned mustache?
Soldier
Oh no, I mean the civilian. You know, the one who was talking with me at the table in the beginning. The one who has such a husky voice.
Maid
Oh I know. He’s fresh.
Soldier
Did he do anything to you? I’ll show him! What did he do to you?
Maid
Oh nothing… I only noticed how he was with the others.
Soldier
Tell me, Miss Marie…
Maid
You’ll burn me with your cigar.
Soldier
Pardon me!—Miss Marie—or may I say Marie?
Maid
We’re not such good friends yet…
Soldier
There’re many who don’t like each-other, and yet use first names.
Maid
Next time, if we… But, Frank!
Soldier
Oh, you remember my name?
Maid
But, Frank…
Soldier
That’s right, call me Frank, Miss Marie.
Maid
Don’t be so fresh—but, sh-h, suppose some one should come!
Soldier
What if some one did come? They couldn’t see anything two steps off.
Maid
For goodness’ sake, where are we going?
Soldier
Look! There’s two just like us.
Maid
Where? I don’t see anything.
Soldier
There … just ahead of us.
Maid
Why do you say: “two like us”—
Soldier
Well, I mean, they like each other too.
Maid
Look out! What’s that there? I nearly fell.
Soldier
Oh, that’s the meadow-gate.
Maid
Don’t shove me so. I’ll fall.
Soldier
Sh-h, not so loud.
Maid
Stop! Now I’m really going to scream—What are you doing?… Stop now—
Soldier
There’s no one anywhere around.
Maid
Then, let’s go back where the people are.
Soldier
We don’t need them. Why—Marie, we need … for that…
Maid
Stop, Frank, please, for Heaven’s sake! Listen to me, if I had … known … oh … come!
Soldier
(Blissfully) Once more… Oh…
Maid
… I can’t see your face at all.
Soldier
Don’t matter—my face…
Soldier
Well, Miss Marie, you can’t stay here on the grass all night.
Maid
Please, Frank, help me.
Soldier
Oh, come along.
Maid
Oh, Lord help me, Frank.
Soldier
Well, what’s the matter with me?
Maid
You’re a bad man, Frank.
Soldier
Yes, yes. Say, wait a minute.
Maid
Why do you leave me alone?
Soldier
Can’t you let me light my cigar!
Maid
It’s so dark.
Soldier
It’ll be light again to-morrow morning.
Maid
Tell me, at least, you love me.
Soldier
Well, you must have felt that, Miss Marie!
Maid
Where are we going now?
Soldier
Back, of course.
Maid
Please, don’t walk so fast.
Soldier
Well, what’s wrong? I don’t like to walk around in the dark.
Maid
Tell me, Frank … do you love me?
Soldier
But I just told you that I loved you!
Maid
Won’t you give me a little kiss?
Soldier
(Condescendingly) There… Listen—There’s the music again.
Maid
Would you really like to go back, and dance again?
Soldier
Of course, why not?
Maid
But, Frank, see, I have to get home. Madame will scold me anyway,—she’s cranky … she’d like it best if I never went out.
Soldier
Well, you can go home.
Maid
But, I thought, Frank, you’d take me home.
Soldier
Take you home? Oh!
Maid
Please, it’s so sad to go home alone.
Soldier
Where do you live?
Maid
Not very far—in Porzellanstrasse.
Soldier
So? Then we go the same way … but it’s still too early for me … me for the dance… I’ve got late leave to-day… I don’t need to be back at the barracks before twelve o’clock. I’m going to dance.
Maid
Oh, I see, now it’s that cross-eyed blonde’s turn.
Soldier
Humph!—Her face isn’t so bad.
Maid
Oh Lord, how wicked men are. I’m sure you do the same to every one.
Soldier
That’d be too much!—
Maid
Please, Frank, no more to-day—stay with me to-day, you see—
Soldier
Oh, very well, all right. But I suppose I may dance.
Maid
I’m not going to dance with any one else to-night.
Soldier
There it is already…
Maid
What?
Soldier
The hall! How quick we got back. They’re still playing the same thing … that tatata-tum tatata-tum (He hums with the band)… Well, I’ll take you home, if you want to wait for me … if not … good-by—
Maid
Yes, I’ll wait.
(They enter the dancehall)
Soldier
Say, Miss Marie, get yourself a glass of beer. (Turning to a blonde who is just dancing past him in the arms of another, very formally) Miss, may I ask for a dance?—
Sultry summer afternoon. The parents of the Young Man are away in the country. The cook has gone out. The Parlor-maid is in the kitchen writing a letter to the soldier who is now her sweetheart. The Young Man’s bell rings. She gets up and goes to his room. The Young Man is lying on a couch, smoking a cigarette and reading a French novel.
Maid
Yes, Sir?
Young Man
Oh, yes, Marie, oh, yes; I rang, yes … I only wanted … yes, of course… Oh, yes, of course, let the blinds down, Marie… It’s cooler with the blinds down … yes…
(The Maid goes to the window and pulls down the blinds)
Young Man
(Continues reading) What are you doing, Marie? Oh, yes. But, now, I can’t see to read.
Maid
You are always so studious, Sir.
Young Man
(Ignoring the remark) There, that’s better.
(Marie goes.)
Young Man
(Tries to go on with his reading, lets the book fall, and rings again)
Maid
(Enters)
Young Man
I say, Marie … let’s see, what was it I wanted to say? … oh, yes… Is there any cognac in the house?
Maid
Yes, but it’s locked up.
Young Man
Well, who has the key?
Maid
Lini.
Young Man
Who is Lini?
Maid
The cook, Mr. Alfred.
Young Man
Well, then ask Lini for it.
Maid
Yes, but it’s Lini’s day out.
Young Man
So…
Maid
Can I get anything for you from the café, Sir?
Young Man
Thank you, no… It is hot enough as it is. I don’t need any cognac. Listen, Marie, bring me a glass of water. Wait, Marie,—let it run, till it gets quite cold.
Exit Maid. The Young Man gazes after her. At the door the Maid looks back at him, and the Young Man glances into the air. The Maid turns on the water and lets it run. Meanwhile, she goes into her room, washes her hands, and arranges her curls before the mirror. Then she brings the glass of water to the Young Man. She approaches the couch. The Young Man raises himself upon his elbow. The Maid gives him the glass of water and their fingers touch.
Young Man
Thank you—Well, what is the matter?—Be careful.[48] Put the glass back on the tray. (He leans back, and stretches himself) How late is it?
Maid
Five o’clock, Sir.
Young Man
Ah, five o’clock.—That’s fine.—
Maid
(Goes. At the door she turns around. The Young Man has followed her with his eyes; she notices it, and smiles)
Young Man
(Remains stretched out awhile; then, suddenly, he gets up. He walks to the door, back again, and lies down on the couch. He again tries to read. After a few moments, he rings once more.)
Maid
(Appears with a smile which she does not try to hide)
Young Man
Listen, Marie, there was something I wanted to ask you. Didn’t Dr. Schueller call this morning?
Maid
No, Sir, nobody called this morning.
Young Man
That is strange. Then, Dr. Schueller didn’t call. Do you know Dr. Schueller by sight?
Maid
Of course, I do. He’s the big gentleman with the black beard.
Young Man
Yes. Then, perhaps, he called after all?
Maid
No, Sir. Nobody called.
Young Man
(Resolutely) Come here, Marie.
Maid
(Coming a little nearer) Yes, Sir.
Young Man
Still nearer … so … ah … I only thought…
Maid
Do you want anything, Sir?
Young Man
I thought… Well, I thought—only about your blouse … what kind of a blouse is it … can’t you come closer. I won’t bite you.
Maid
(Comes close to him) What is the matter with my blouse? Don’t you like it, Sir?
Young Man
(Takes hold of her blouse, and draws her down to him) Blue? It is a nice blue. (Simply) You are very prettily dressed, Marie.
Maid
But, Sir…
Young Man
Ah… What is the matter?… (He has opened her blouse. In a matter of fact tone) You have a beautiful white skin, Marie.
Maid
You are flattering me, Sir.
Young Man
(Kissing her on the breast) That can’t hurt you.
Maid
Oh, no.
Young Man
But you sigh so. Why are you sighing?
Maid
Oh, Mr. Alfred…
Young Man
And what charming little slippers you have…
Maid
… But … Sir … if the doorbell should ring.—
Young Man
Who will ring now?
Maid
But, Sir … look … it is so light…
Young Man
You needn’t feel at all shy with me. You needn’t feel shy with anybody … any one as pretty as you. Yes, really, you are, Marie… Do you know your hair actually smells sweet.
Maid
Mr. Alfred…
Young Man
Don’t make such a fuss, Marie… Anyway, I’ve already seen you otherwise. When I came home the other night and went to get some water, the door to your room was open … well…
Maid
(Covering her face) Oh, my, I didn’t know that Mr. Alfred could be so wicked.
Young Man
I saw lots then … that … and that … that … and—
Maid
Oh, Mr. Alfred!
Young Man
Come, come … here … so—that’s it…
Maid
But if the doorbell should ring now—
Young Man
Now forget that … we simply wouldn’t open the door.
(The bell rings)
Young Man
Confound it… What a noise that fellow makes—Perhaps he rang before, and we didn’t notice it.
Maid
Oh, no. I was listening all the while.
Young Man
Well, see what’s the matter. Peek through the curtains.
Maid
Mr. Alfred … you are … no … such a bad man.
Young Man
Please go and see…
(Exit Maid)
Young Man
(Opens the blinds quickly)
Maid
(Returns) He must have gone away again. Anyway, no one is there now. Perhaps, it was Dr. Schueller.
Young Man
(Annoyed) Thank you.
Maid
(Drawing close to him)
Young Man
(Evading her) Listen, Marie,—I’m going to the café now.
Maid
(Tenderly) So soon … Mr. Alfred.
Young Man
(Formally) I am going to the café now… If Dr. Schueller should call—
Maid
He won’t come any more to-day.
Young Man
(Severely) If Dr. Schueller should come, I—I am in the café.
(He goes to the adjoining room. The Maid takes a cigar from the smoking-stand, puts it in her blouse and goes out.)
Evening—A drawing-room furnished with cheap elegance in a house in Schwind street. The Young Man has just come in; and, still wearing his hat and overcoat, he lights the gas. Then he opens a door to a side-room and looks in. The light from the drawing-room shimmers over the inlaid floor as far as the Louis Quinze bed, which stands against the opposite wall. A reddish light plays from the fire-place in the corner of the bedroom upon the hangings of the bed. The Young Man now inspects the bedroom. He takes an atomizer from the dressing-table, and sprays the bed-pillows with a fine rain of violet perfume. Then he carries the atomizer through both rooms, constantly pressing upon the bulb, so that soon the odor of violets pervades the place. He then takes off his hat and coat. He sits down in a blue velvet armchair, lights a cigarette, and smokes. After a short pause he rises again, and makes sure that the green shutters are closed. Suddenly, he goes into the bedroom, and opens a drawer in the dressing-table. He puts his hand in it, and finds a tortoise-shell hair-pin. He looks for a place to hide it, and[58] finally puts it into a pocket of his overcoat. He opens the buffet in the drawing-room; takes a silver tray, with a bottle and two liqueur glasses, and puts them on the table. He goes back to his overcoat, and takes from it a small white package. Opening this, he places it beside the cognac. He goes again to the buffet, and takes two small plates and knives and forks. He takes a candied chestnut from the package and eats it. Then he pours himself a glass of cognac, and drinks it quickly. He then looks at his watch. He walks up and down the room. He stops a while before a large mirror, ordering his hair and small mustache with a pocket-comb. He next goes to the door of the vestibule and listens. Nothing is stirring. Then he closes the blue portières, which hang before the bedroom. The bell rings. He starts slightly. Then he sits down in the armchair, and rises only when the door has been opened and the Young Wife enters.
Young Wife
(Heavily veiled, closes the door behind her, pausing a moment with her left hand over her heart, as though mastering a strong emotion)
Young Man
(Goes toward her, takes her left hand, and[59] presses a kiss on the white glove with black stitching. He says softly.) Thank you.
Young Wife
Alfred—Alfred!
Young Man
Come, Madame… Come, Emma…
Young Wife
Let me be for a minute—please … oh, please, please, Alfred!
(She is still standing at the door)
Young Man
(Standing before her, holding her hand)
Young Wife
Where am I?
Young Man
With me.
Young Wife
This house is terrible, Alfred.
Young Man
Why terrible? It is a very proper house.
Young Wife
But I met two gentlemen on the staircase.
Young Man
Acquaintances of yours?
Young Wife
I don’t know. It’s possible.
Young Man
But, Madame—You surely know your friends!
Young Wife
I couldn’t see their faces.
Young Man
But even had they been your best friends—they couldn’t possibly have recognized you… I, myself … if I didn’t know it was you … this veil—
Young Wife
There are two.
Young Man
Won’t you come closer?… And take off your hat, at least?
Young Wife
What are you thinking of, Alfred? I promised you: Five minutes… Not a moment more … I swear it, no more—
Young Man
Well, then, your veil—
Young Wife
There are two of them.
Young Man
Very well, both of them—you will at least let me see your face.
Young Wife
Do you really love me, Alfred?
Young Man
(Deeply hurt) Emma! You ask me…
Young Wife
It’s so warm here.
Young Man
You’re still wearing your fur-coat—really, you will catch cold.
Young Wife
(Finally enters the room, and throws herself into the armchair) I’m tired—dead tired.
Young Man
Permit me.
(He takes off her veil, removes her hat-pin, and puts hat, pin, and veil aside)
Young Wife
(Permits it)
Young Man
(Stands before her, and shakes his head)
Young Wife
What is the matter?
Young Man
You’ve never been so beautiful.
Young Wife
How is that?
Young Man
Alone … alone with you—Emma—
(He kneels down beside her chair, takes both her hands, and covers them with kisses)
Young Wife
And now … now let me go again. I have done what you asked me to do.
Young Man
(Lets his head sink into her lap)
Young Wife
You promised me to be good.
Young Man
Yes.
Young Wife
It is stifling hot in this room.
Young Man
(Gets up) You still have your coat on.
Young Wife
Put it with my hat.
Young Man
(Takes off her coat, and puts it on the sofa)
Young Wife
And now—good-by—
Young Man
Emma—! Emma—!
Young Wife
The five minutes are long past.
Young Man
Not one yet!—
Young Wife
Alfred, tell me truly now, how late it is.
Young Man
It is now exactly a quarter past six.
Young Wife
I should have been at my sister’s long ago.
Young Man
You can see your sister any time…
Young Wife
Oh, Merciful Heaven, Alfred, why did you tempt me to come?
Young Man
Because … I adore you, Emma!
Young Wife
To how many have you said the same thing?
Young Man
Since I met you, to no one.
Young Wife
What a foolish woman I am! If anybody had predicted … just a week ago … or even yesterday…
Young Man
But you had already promised me the day before yesterday.
Young Wife
You plagued me so. But I didn’t want to do it. God is my witness—I didn’t want to do it… Yesterday, I was firmly decided… Do you know I even wrote you a long letter last night?
Young Man
I didn’t receive any.
Young Wife
I tore it up later. Oh, if only I had sent it to you.
Young Man
It is better as it is.
Young Wife
Oh, no, it’s awful … of me. I don’t understand myself. Good-by, Alfred, let me go.
Young Man
(Seizes her, and covers her face with burning kisses)
Young Wife
So … is that the way you keep your word…
Young Man
One more kiss—one more.
Young Wife
The last.
(He kisses her, and she returns the kiss; their lips remain joined for a long time)
Young Man
Shall I tell you something, Emma? It is now for the first time that I know what happiness is.
Young Wife
(Sinks back into the armchair)
Young Man
(Sits on the arm of the chair, and puts one arm lightly about her neck) … or rather, I know now what happiness might be.
Young Wife
(Sighs deeply)
Young Man
(Kisses her again)
Young Wife
Alfred—Alfred, what are you doing to me!
Young Man
Wasn’t I right?—It isn’t so awfully uncomfortable here… And we are so safe here. It’s a thousand times better than those meetings outdoors…
Young Wife
Oh, don’t remind me of them.
Young Man
I shall always recall them with a thousand delights. Every minute you have let me spend with you is a sweet memory.
Young Wife
Do you remember the ball at the Manufacturers’ Club?
Young Man
Do I remember it…? I sat beside you through the whole supper—quite close to you. Your husband had champagne…
Young Wife
(Looks at him with a hurt expression)
Young Man
I meant to speak only of the champagne. Emma, would you like a glass of cognac?
Young Wife
Only a drop, but first give me a glass of water.
Young Man
Surely… But where is—oh, yes, I remember…
(He opens the portières, and goes into the bedroom)
Young Wife
(Follows him with her eyes)
Young Man
(Comes back with a water-bottle and two glasses)
Young Wife
Where have you been?
Young Man
In … the adjoining room.
(Pours her a glass of water)
Young Wife
Now I’m going to ask you something, Alfred—and you must tell me the truth.
Young Man
I swear—
Young Wife
Has there ever been any other woman in these rooms?
Young Man
But, Emma—this house was built twenty years ago!—
Young Wife
You know what I mean, Alfred … in these rooms, with you!
Young Man
With me—here—Emma!—It’s not kind of you even to imagine such a thing.
Young Wife
Then there was … how shall I… But, no,[69] I’d rather not ask. It is better that I shouldn’t ask. It’s my own fault. Every fault has its punishment.
Young Man
But what is wrong? What is the matter with you? What fault?
Young Wife
No, no, no, I mustn’t think… Otherwise I would sink through the floor with shame.
Young Man
(With the water-bottle in his hand, shakes his head sadly) Emma, if you only knew how you hurt me.
Young Wife
(Pours a glass of cognac)
Young Man
I want to tell you something, Emma. If you’re ashamed of being here—if you don’t care for me—if you don’t feel you are all the happiness in the world for me—then you’d better go.—
Young Wife
Yes, I shall go.
Young Man
(Taking hold of her hand) But if you feel that I cannot live without you, that a kiss upon your[70] hand means more to me than all the caresses of all the women in the whole world… Emma, I’m not like other young men, who are experienced in love-making—perhaps, I am too naïve … I…
Young Wife
But suppose you were like other young men?
Young Man
Then you wouldn’t be here to-night—because you are not like other women.
Young Wife
How do you know that?
Young Man
(Drawing her close beside him on the sofa)
I have thought a lot about it. I know you are unhappy.
Young Wife
(Pleased) Yes.
Young Man
Life is so dreary, so empty—and then,—so short—so horribly short! There is only one happiness—to find some one who loves you.—
Young Wife
(Takes a candied pear from the table, and puts it into her mouth)
Young Man
Give me half of it!
(She offers it to him with her lips)
Young Wife
(Catches the hands of the Young Man that threaten to stray) What are you doing, Alfred?… Is that the way you keep your promise?
Young Man
(Swallows the pear, then, more daringly) Life is so short.
Young Wife
(Weakly) But that’s no reason—
Young Man
(Mechanically) Oh, yes.
Young Wife
(Still more weakly) Alfred, you promised to be good … and then it’s so light…
Young Man
Come, come, you only, only…
(He lifts her from the sofa)
Young Wife
What are you doing?
Young Man
It’s not so light in the other room.
Young Wife
Is there another room?
Young Man
(Drawing her with him) A beautiful one … and quite dark.
Young Wife
We’d better stay in here.
Young Man
(Already past the bedroom portières with her, loosening her waist)
Young Wife
You are so… O merciful Heaven, what are you doing with me!—Alfred!
Young Man
I adore you, Emma!
Young Wife
So then wait, wait a little… (Weakly) Go… I’ll call you.
Young Man
Let you help me—let us help you (becoming confused) … let … me—help—you.
Young Wife
But you’ll tear everything.
Young Man
You have no corset on?
Young Wife
I never wear a corset. Odilon[2] doesn’t wear any either. But you can unbutton my shoes.
Young Man
(Unbuttons her shoes and kisses her feet)
Young Wife
(Slips into bed) Oh, how cold it is.
Young Man
It’ll be warm in a minute.
Young Wife
(Laughing softly) Do you think so?
Young Man
(Slightly hurt, to himself) She ought not to have said that.
(He undresses in the dark)
Young Wife
(Tenderly) Come, come, come!
Young Man
(Mollified) In a minute, dear—
Young Wife
It smells like violets here.
Young Man
That’s you… Yes (To her) you, yourself.
Young Wife
Alfred… Alfred!!!!
Young Man
Emma…
Young Man
Apparently I love you too much … yes… I am as if out of my senses.
Young Wife
… …
Young Man
I have been beside myself all these days. I was afraid of this.
Young Wife
Don’t mind.
Young Man
Oh, certainly not. It’s perfectly natural, if one…
Young Wife
No … don’t… You are nervous. Calm yourself first.
Young Man
Do you know Stendhal?
Young Wife
Stendhal?
Young Man
The “Psychologie de l’amour.”
Young Wife
No. Why do you ask me?
Young Man
There’s a story in that book which is very much to the point.
Young Wife
What kind of a story?
Young Man
There is a gathering of cavalry officers—
Young Wife
Yes.
Young Man
And they are telling each other about their love affairs. And each one of them tells that with the woman he loved best—most passionately, you know … that with him, that then—well, in short, that the same thing happened just as it happened to me now.
Young Wife
Yes.
Young Man
That is very characteristic.
Young Wife
Yes.
Young Man
The story is not yet ended. One of them maintained … that this thing had never in his life happened to him, but, adds Stendhal—he was known as a great boaster.
Young Wife
And.—
Young Man
And, yet, it makes you feel blue—that’s the stupid side of it, even though it’s so unimportant.
Young Wife
Of course. Anyway, you know … you promised me to be good.
Young Man
Sh-h! Don’t laugh. That doesn’t help things any.
Young Wife
But no, I’m not laughing. That story of Stendhal’s is really interesting. I have always thought that only older people … or people who … you know, people who have lived fast…
Young Man
The idea! That has nothing to do with it. By the way, I had completely forgotten the prettiest of Stendhal’s stories. One of the cavalry officers went so far as to say that he stayed for three or even six nights… I don’t remember now—that is he stayed with a woman, whom he wanted for weeks—desirée—you understand—and nothing happened all those nights except that they wept for happiness … both…
Young Wife
Both?
Young Man
Yes. Does that surprise you? It seems very comprehensible—especially when two people love each other.
Young Wife
But surely there are many who don’t weep.
Young Man
(Nervously) Certainly … however, that is an exceptional case.
Young Wife
Oh—I thought Stendhal said that all cavalry officers weep on such an occasion.
Young Man
Look here, now you are laughing at me.
Young Wife
What an idea! Don’t be childish, Alfred.
Young Man
Well, it makes me nervous anyway… Besides I have the feeling that you are thinking about it all the time. That embarrasses me still more.
Young Wife
I’m not thinking of it at all.
Young Man
If I were only sure that you love me.
Young Wife
Do you want still further proofs?
Young Man
Didn’t I tell you … you are always laughing at me.
Young Wife
How so? Come, let me hold your sweet little head.
Young Man
Oh, that feels so good.
Young Wife
Do you love me?
Young Man
Oh, I’m so happy.
Young Wife
But you needn’t cry about it.
Young Man
(Moving away from her, highly irritated) There! Again! I begged you not to…
Young Wife
To tell you that you shouldn’t cry…
Young Man
You said: “You needn’t cry about it.”
Young Wife
You are nervous, sweetheart.
Young Man
I know.
Young Wife
But you ought not to be. It is beautiful even that … that we are together like good comrades…
Young Man
Now you are beginning again.
Young Wife
Don’t you remember! That was one of our first talks. We wanted to be comrades, nothing more. Oh, how nice that was … at my sister’s ball in January, during the quadrille… For heaven’s sake, I should have gone long ago… My sister expects me—what shall I tell her… Good-by, Alfred—
Young Man
Emma!—You will leave me in this way!
Young Wife
Yes—so!—
Young Man
Five minutes more…
Young Wife
All right. Five minutes more. But you must promise me … not to move?… Yes?… I want to give you a good-by kiss… Psst … be still … don’t move, I told you, otherwise I’ll get up at once, you, my sweetheart, sweet…
Young Man
Emma … my ador… …
Young Wife
My Alfred!
Young Man
Oh, it is heaven to be with you.
Young Wife
But now I’ve really got to go.
Young Man
Oh, let your sister wait.
Young Wife
I must go home. It is much too late to see my sister. How late is it?
Young Man
How should I know?
Young Wife
You might look at your watch.
Young Man
My watch is in my waistcoat.
Young Wife
Get it.
Young Man
(Gets up with a jump) Eight o’clock.
Young Wife
(Jumps up quickly) For heaven’s sake… Quick, Alfred, give me my stockings. What shall I say? They must be waiting for me at home … eight o’clock…
Young Man
When shall I see you again?
Young Wife
Never.
Young Man
Emma! Don’t you love me any more?
Young Wife
Just for that reason. Give me my shoes.
Young Man
Never again? Here are your shoes.
Young Wife
My button-hook is in my bag. Please, be quick…
Young Man
Here is the button-hook.
Young Wife
Alfred, this may cost us our lives.
Young Man
(Unpleasantly moved) In what way?
Young Wife
What shall I say, if he asks me where I’ve been?
Young Man
At your sister’s.
Young Wife
Oh, if I only could lie.
Young Man
Well, you’ll have to.
Young Wife
Everything for a man like you. Oh, come here … let me give you a last kiss. (She embraces[84] him)—And now—leave me by myself, go in the other room.—I can’t dress, if you are around.
Young Man
(Goes into the drawing-room, where he dresses. He eats some pastry and drinks a glass of cognac)
Young Wife
(Calls after a while) Alfred!
Young Man
Yes, sweetheart.
Young Wife
Isn’t it better that we didn’t weep?
Young Man
(Smiling, not without pride) How can you talk so frivolously?—
Young Wife
Oh, how difficult it will be now—if we should meet by chance in company?
Young Man
By chance?—sometime?… Surely you are coming to Lobheimer’s to-morrow?
Young Wife
Yes. You too?
Young Man
Of course. May I ask for the cotillion?
Young Wife
Oh, I shall not go. What do you imagine?—I would… (She enters the drawing-room fully dressed, and takes a piece of chocolate pastry) sink through the floor.
Young Man
To-morrow at Lobheimer’s. That’s fine.
Young Wife
No, no… I shall decline … certainly decline—
Young Man
Well, the day after to-morrow … here.
Young Wife
The idea!
Young Man
At six…
Young Wife
There are cabs at this corner, aren’t there?
Young Man
Yes, as many as you want. Well, the day after to-morrow, here at six o’clock. Please say “yes,” sweetheart.
Young Wife
… We’ll discuss that to-morrow night during the cotillion.
Young Man
(Embracing her) My angel.
Young Wife
Don’t muss my hair again.
Young Man
Well then, to-morrow night at Lobheimer’s, and the day after to-morrow in my arms.
Young Wife
Good-by…
Young Man
(Suddenly anxious again) And what will you—tell him to-night?—
Young Wife
Don’t ask me … don’t ask me … it’s too terrible.—Why do I love you so?—Good-by—If I meet any one again on the stairway, I shall faint.—Ugh!
Young Man
(Kisses her hand for the last time)
Young Wife
(Exit)
Young Man
(Remains standing. Then he sits down on the couch. He smiles reflectively, and says to himself) Now, at last, I have an affair with a respectable woman.
A comfortable bedroom. It is half past ten at night. The Wife is lying abed and reading. The Husband enters the room in a dressing gown.
Young Wife
(Without looking up) You have stopped working?
Husband
Yes. I’m too tired. And besides…
Young Wife
Well?—
Husband
I felt so lonely at my desk all at once. A longing for you came over me.
Young Wife
(Looking up) Really?
Husband
(Sitting down on the bed beside her) Don’t read any more to-night. You will ruin your eyes.
Young Wife
(Closing the book) What’s the matter with you?
Husband
Nothing, child. I’m in love with you. But you know that.
Young Wife
One might almost forget it sometimes.
Husband
One must forget it sometimes.
Young Wife
Why?
Husband
Because, otherwise, marriage would be something imperfect. It would … how shall I express it … it would lose its sanctity.
Young Wife
Oh…
Husband
Believe me—it is so… If we hadn’t sometimes forgotten that we are in love with each other during the five years we have been married—we might not be in love any longer.
Young Wife
That’s beyond me.
Husband
The case is simply this. We have had perhaps[93] ten or twelve love-affairs with each other… Doesn’t it seem that way to you, too?
Young Wife
I haven’t counted them!
Husband
If we had enjoyed the first one to the last drop, if I had from the very beginning surrendered without restraint to my passion for you, the same thing would have happened to us that has happened to millions of other lovers. We would be tired of each other.
Young Wife
Ah … do you mean that?
Husband
Believe me—Emma—in the early days of our marriage, I was afraid that this would happen.
Young Wife
I, too.
Husband
See? Am I not right? Therefore, it is wise every now and then to live only as good friends.
Young Wife
Oh.
Husband
And some can always experience new honeymoons, especially since I am careful never to let such weeks of honeymoon…
Young Wife
Run into months.
Husband
That is true.
Young Wife
And now … now it seems we are at the end of another such period of friendship—?
Husband
(Pressing her tenderly to him) So it might seem.
Young Wife
But if … if I should feel differently?
Husband
You couldn’t. You are the wisest and most delicious being in the world. I am very happy to have found you.
Young Wife
You know how to make love very well—every now and then.
Husband
(Who has also gone to bed) Well, for a man[95] who has looked about in the world a bit—come, lay your head on my shoulder—who has seen something of the world, marriage is really something much more mysterious than it is for you sheltered young girls. You come to us entirely innocent and … to a certain degree, at least, ignorant of things, and therefore you really understand the essence of love much better than we.
Young Wife
(Laughing) Oh!
Husband
Certainly. For we get all tangled up by the many experiences that we have to go through before marriage. You women, of course, hear a lot of things, you know a lot of things, no doubt read too much, but you can’t have any real idea of the things men experience. We men really become quite disgusted with this thing people call love, for the kind of creatures to which we are restricted really are…
Young Wife
Tell me—what kind of creatures are they?
Husband
(Kissing her on the forehead) You ought to be glad, dear child, that you never have had a glimpse[96] of relations like that. After all most of the poor things deserve pity—it is not for us to throw stones.
Young Wife
But—this pity—it doesn’t seem quite appropriate to me.
Husband
(With gentle benevolence) They deserve it. You young girls of good family, who wait quietly under the care of your parents for the man who desires you in marriage,—you won’t know the misery that drives most of these poor creatures into the arms of sin.
Young Wife
Do all of them really sell themselves?
Husband
I would hardly say that. I don’t mean the material misery alone. There is also—one might call it—a moral misery, a lack of appreciation for what is permissible, and, especially, for what is noble.
Young Wife
But why are they to be pitied?—They seem to enjoy themselves.
Husband
You have strange ideas, my child. You must[97] not forget that such people are predestined by nature to sink lower and lower. There is no stopping them.
Young Wife
(Cuddling to him) It seems pleasant to fall.
Husband
(Hurt) How can you say things like that, Emma? I should think that to good women like you, nothing could be more repulsive than those who are not!
Young Wife
Of course, Karl, of course. I was just thinking. Go on, tell me more. I like it when you talk like this. Tell me something.
Husband
What?—
Young Wife
Why—about these people.
Husband
The idea!
Young Wife
But, I asked you a long time ago—you know, when we were first married to tell me something of your younger days.
Husband
Why does that interest you?
Young Wife
Aren’t you my husband? Isn’t it a sort of injustice that I really know nothing about your past?
Husband
You surely don’t think I have such bad taste, as to—No, Emma … it would be like a profanation.
Young Wife
And yet you have … heaven knows how many other women you have held in your arms, just as you are holding me now.
Husband
Don’t say “women.” You are the woman.
Young Wife
But you must answer one question … otherwise … otherwise … there won’t be any honeymoon.
Husband
That’s a nice way to talk … remember you are a mother … our little girl is sleeping in there…
Young Wife
(Snuggling against him) But I want a boy, too.
Husband
Emma!
Young Wife
Don’t be silly … of course, I am your wife … but I’d like also to be … to be your sweetheart.
Husband
Would you?…
Young Wife
Well—now my question.
Husband
(Accommodating) All right.
Young Wife
Was there … a married woman … amongst them?
Husband
Why? What do you mean?
Young Wife
You know what I mean.
Husband
(Slightly disconcerted) What makes you think of a thing like that?
Young Wife
I would like to know if … I mean—there are such women… I know that very well. But did you?…
Husband
(Seriously) Do you know such a woman?
Young Wife
Well, I hardly know.
Husband
Is there, perhaps, such a woman among your friends?
Young Wife
How can I be sure that there is—or that there isn’t?
Husband
Did any of your friends … women talk about a lot of things—alone among themselves—did any of them ever confess—?
Young Wife
(Uncertainly) No.
Husband
Do you suspect any of your friends—that she…
Young Wife
Suspect … oh … suspect.
Husband
It would seem so.
Young Wife
No, indeed, Karl, most certainly not. When I think things over—I don’t believe there is any one.
Husband
No one?
Young Wife
Not among my friends.
Husband
Promise me something, Emma.
Young Wife
Well?
Husband
That you will never associate with a woman about whom you have the slightest suspicion that she … doesn’t lead a completely blameless life.
Young Wife
And you think it necessary for me to promise that?
Husband
I know that you will not seek out the company[102] of such women. But, it might happen that you … in fact it often happens that such women, whose reputations are not of the best, seek out good women, partly to give them standing, and partly because they feel … how shall I say?… because they feel a certain homesickness for virtue.
Young Wife
Do they?
Husband
Yes. I believe what I just said is very true. Homesickness for virtue. For all of these women are at heart very unhappy; you can believe that.
Young Wife
Why?
Husband
You ask me, Emma?—How can you even ask?—Just imagine what a life these women lead! Full of lies, perfidy, vulgarity, and danger.
Young Wife
Yes, of course. You are right.
Husband
Truly … they pay for their little happiness … their little…
Young Wife
Pleasure.
Husband
Why “pleasure”? Why do you call it “pleasure”?
Young Wife
Well,—there must be something in it—! Otherwise, they wouldn’t do it.
Husband
It is nothing … an intoxication.
Young Wife
(Pensively) An intoxication…
Husband
No, it is not even intoxication. Like everything—it is dearly paid for, that much is certain.
Young Wife
Well … it has happened to you, hasn’t it?
Husband
Yes, Emma.—And it is the thing I most regret.
Young Wife
Who was she? Tell me! Do I know her?
Husband
The idea!
Young Wife
Was it long ago? Was it very long before you married me?
Husband
Don’t ask me. Please, don’t ask.
Young Wife
But, Karl!
Husband
She is dead.
Young Wife
Are you in earnest?
Husband
Yes … it sounds almost ridiculous, but I have the feeling that all such women die young.
Young Wife
Did you love her very much?
Husband
One doesn’t love women who lie.
Young Wife
Then why…
Husband
An intoxication…
Young Wife
Really?
Husband
Don’t talk about it any more, please. All that is passed long ago. I have only loved one woman—that is you. You only love where there is purity and truth.
Young Wife
Karl!
Husband
Oh, how secure, how happy one feels in such arms. Why didn’t I know you as a child? I am sure I wouldn’t then even have looked at other women.
Young Wife
Karl!
Husband
And how beautiful you are!… beautiful!… Oh, come…
(He puts the light out)
Young Wife
Do you know what I am thinking of to-night?
Husband
What, sweetheart?
Young Wife
Of … of … of Venice.
Husband
Our first night…
Young Wife
Yes…
Husband
What then? Tell me!
Young Wife
You love me as much to-day.
Husband
Yes, just as much.
Young Wife
Oh … if you would always…
Husband
(In her arms) If I would what?
Young Wife
My Karl!
Husband
What do you mean? If I would always?…
Young Wife
Well, yes.
Husband
Well, what then, if I would always?…
Young Wife
Then I would always know that you love me.
Husband
Yes. But you must know that anyway. One cannot always be a lover, sometimes one has to go out into the cold world to struggle and achieve! Don’t forget that, my child. There is a time for everything in marriage—that is the beauty of it. There are not many who can remember their Venice after five years.
Young Wife
True!
Husband
And now … good-night, my child.
Young Wife
Good-night!
A private dining-room in the Riedhof, comfortably furnished with moderately good taste. A gas-grate is burning. The Husband and the Sweet Young Miss are disclosed. The remains of dinner are on the table, cream-cakes, fruit, cheese. In the wine-glasses is a Hungarian white wine.
Husband
(Is smoking a Havana cigar, and leaning against the corner of a sofa)
Miss
(Sits beside him in an armchair, eating the cream out of a cake with a spoon, and tasting it with satisfaction)
Husband
Is it good?
Miss
(Without stopping) Oh!
Husband
Do you want another?
Miss
No. I’ve eaten too much already.
Husband
Your wine is all gone.
(He fills her glass)
Miss
No … stop. I’ll leave it anyway.
Husband
Why are you so shy?
Miss
Am I?—Well, it takes time to get acquainted.
Husband
Come and sit here with me.
Miss
Right away… I’m not ready yet.
Husband
(Rises and stands behind her chair, and puts his arms around her, turning her face toward him)
Miss
What’s the matter?
Husband
I want a kiss.
Miss
(Kissing him) You are … excuse me, you have a lot of nerve.
Husband
You’re just finding that out?
Miss
Oh, no, I knew that long ago … from the first, in the street.—You must—
Husband
What?
Miss
You must have a nice opinion of me.
Husband
Why?
Miss
Because I went right away with you to a private dining room.
Husband
Well, you can hardly say “right away.”
Miss
But you asked in such a nice way.
Husband
Do you think so?
Miss
And, after all, what is the harm?
Husband
Of course.
Miss
Whether we go walking or—
Husband
Besides, it’s much too cold for walking.
Miss
Yes, it was too cold.
Husband
But here it’s nice and warm, isn’t it?
(He sits down again, puts his arms around the girl, and draws her to his side)
Miss
(Weakly) Don’t.
Husband
Tell me… You noticed me before, didn’t you?
Miss
Certainly. Several blocks before you spoke to me.
Husband
I don’t mean to-day. I mean yesterday and the day before, when I was following you.
Miss
A lot of people follow me.
Husband
I don’t doubt that. But did you notice me?
Miss
Guess … do you know what happened to me the other day? My cousin’s husband followed me in the dark, and didn’t recognize me.
Husband
Did he speak to you?
Miss
What do you suppose? Do you imagine every one is as bold as you?
Husband
But they sometimes do, don’t they?
Miss
Of course, they do.
Husband
Well, and what do you do?
Miss
Why nothing—I just don’t answer.
Husband
Hm-m … but you answered me.
Miss
Are you sorry?
Husband
(Kisses her violently) Your lips taste like cream-cakes.
Miss
Oh, they are sweet by nature.
Husband
I suppose many have told you that?
Miss
Many! What are you dreaming of?
Husband
Now, be honest. How many have kissed this mouth before?
Miss
Why do you ask? You wouldn’t believe me anyhow, if I told you.
Husband
Why not?
Miss
Guess, then.
Husband
All right, I’ll guess—but you mustn’t get angry!
Miss
Why should I get angry?
Husband
Well, then, I’ll guess … twenty.
Miss
(Slipping away from him) So—why not make it a hundred?
Husband
Oh, I was just guessing.
Miss
You guessed badly.
Husband
Say—ten.
Miss
(Offended) Oh, of course. A girl who lets a man talk to her on the street, and goes right away with him to a private dining-room!
Husband
Don’t be childish. Whether we walk about in the streets or sit in a room… We are in a restaurant. The waiter may come in at any moment—it doesn’t signify anything at all…
Miss
That’s just what I thought.
Husband
Have you ever been in a private dining-room before?
Miss
If I must tell the truth—yes.
Husband
I am glad that you are honest with me at least.
Miss
But it wasn’t—no it wasn’t the way you imagine. I was in a private dining-room with a friend and her fiancé, once during the carnival.
Husband
It wouldn’t have been anything tragic, if you had ever gone—with your sweetheart—
Miss
Of course, it wouldn’t have been anything serious. But I haven’t any sweetheart.
Husband
Oh, come now.
Miss
I swear, I haven’t.
Husband
But you don’t expect to make me believe that I…
Miss
Make you believe what?… I haven’t any—at least, haven’t had for six months.
Husband
I see… But before then? Who was he?
Miss
Why are you so curious?
Husband
I am curious because I love you.
Miss
Really?
Husband
Of course! You should have noticed that. Tell me about him.
(Presses her tightly to him)
Miss
What do you want me to tell?
Husband
Don’t keep me in suspense so long. Who was he, that’s what I want to know.
Miss
(Laughing) Just a man.
Husband
Well—well—who?
Miss
He looked something like you.
Husband
No!
Miss
If you hadn’t looked so much like him—
Husband
Well, what then?
Miss
Now, don’t ask, don’t you see that…
Husband
(Understanding) That’s why you let me speak to you.
Miss
Yes, that’s it.
Husband
I really don’t know whether I ought to be pleased or angry.
Miss
If I were you, I’d be pleased.
Husband
All right.
Miss
You also remind me of him the way you speak … and the way you look at one…
Husband
What was he?
Miss
And then, the eyes—
Husband
What was his name?
Miss
Please don’t look at me that way; please don’t.
Husband
(Embraces her. A long, burning kiss)
Miss
(Trembles, and tries to get up)
Husband
Why do you want to leave me?
Miss
It’s time to go home.
Husband
Later.
Miss
No, I really have to get home. What do you think mother will say.
Husband
You live with your mother?
Miss
Of course, I live with my mother. What did you imagine?
Husband
So—with your mother. Do you live alone with her?
Miss
Oh, yes, alone! There are five of us! Two boys and two more girls.
Husband
Don’t sit so far away from me. Are you the oldest?
Miss
No, I’m the second. First comes Kitty. She’s working in a flower store. Then come I.
Husband
Where do you work?
Miss
I stay at home.
Husband
Always?
Miss
One of us has to stay home.
Husband
Of course,—and what do you tell your mother, when you—come home so late?
Miss
That happens so seldom.
Husband
Well, to-day, for example. Your mother will ask you, won’t she?
Miss
Of course, she’ll ask. It doesn’t matter how careful I am when I come home, she always wakes up.
Husband
And what do you tell her?
Miss
Oh—that I’ve been to the theater.
Husband
Does she believe that?
Miss
Why shouldn’t she believe it? I often go to the theater. I saw an opera on Sunday with my friend and her fiancé, and my oldest brother.
Husband
Where did you get the tickets?
Miss
My brother is a hairdresser.
Husband
Oh, yes, a hairdresser … at the theater, I suppose?
Miss
Why are you asking so many questions?
Husband
Because I am interested. What does your other brother do?
Miss
He’s still going to school. He wants to become a teacher. Just imagine!
Husband
And you also have a little sister?
Miss
Yes, she is a mere child, but you have to keep an eye on her all the time already. You have no idea how girls are spoiled at school. Just imagine! The other day I caught her keeping a date.
Husband
Really?
Miss
Yes! She was out walking one evening at half-past seven with a boy from the school across the way. A mere child like her!
Husband
And what did you do?
Miss
I gave her a spanking.
Husband
Are you as strict as all that?
Miss
Well, who would be if I wasn’t? My older sister is working and mother does nothing but grumble—everything always depends on me.
Husband
You are a dear, sweet girl! (Kisses her, and grows more tender) You also remind me of some one.
Miss
So—of whom?
Husband
Of no one in particular … of bygone days … of my youth. Come, drink, child!
Miss
How old are you?… You … why … I don’t even know your name.
Husband
Karl.
Miss
Is it possible? Your name is Karl?
Husband
Was his name also Karl?
Miss
No, but that’s the queer thing … that is … the eyes … (shaking her head) the way you look at me…
Husband
And who was he?—You haven’t told me yet.
Miss
Oh, he was a bad man—that’s sure, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone away.
Husband
Did you love him very much?
Miss
Of course, I loved him.
Husband
I know what he was—a lieutenant.
Miss
No, he wasn’t in the army. He couldn’t pass the examinations. His father owns a house in … but why do you have to know?
Husband
(Kisses her) You have gray eyes. I thought, at first, they were black.
Miss
Well aren’t they pretty enough?
Husband
(Kisses her eyes)
Miss
Don’t please—I can’t bear it… O, please don’t … let me get up … only for a moment—please.
Husband
(More tenderly still) No, indeed.
Miss
But, please, Karl…
Husband
How old are you?—eighteen—isn’t it?
Miss
Just past nineteen.
Husband
Nineteen … and I—
Miss
You are thirty…
Husband
And a little more—Don’t let’s talk about it.
Miss
He was thirty-two, when I first met him.
Husband
How long ago was that?
Miss
I don’t remember… Listen, there must have been something in the wine.
Husband
What makes you think so?
Miss
I am quite … see—everything is turning round about me.
Husband
Then hold tight to me. So… (He holds her close to him, and becomes more and more tender. She hardly resists) I’ll tell you something, dear, we might go now.
Miss
Yes … home.
Husband
Well, not exactly home…
Miss
What do you mean?… O, no—no… I won’t go anywhere else. What do you think I am?
Husband
But listen to me, child—the next time we meet, you know, we will arrange it so that … (He[129] has slipped to the floor with his head in her lap) This is so comfy, oh, so comfy!
Miss
What are you doing? (She kisses his hair) Something must have been in that wine—I’m so sleepy … what would happen, if I couldn’t get up again? But, but—look, but Karl … if some one should come in … please … the waiter.
Husband
No … waiter … will ever come in … here…
Miss
(Leaning with closed eyes in the corner of the sofa)
Husband
(Pacing up and down the little room, after having lighted a cigarette)
(Long silence)
Husband
(Looking for a long time at the girl; speaking to himself) Who knows what sort of a person she really is—Confound it … so quickly … that wasn’t very cautious of me … hm-m…
Miss
(Without opening her eyes) There must have been something in the wine.
Husband
Why?
Miss
Otherwise…
Husband
Why do you blame everything on the wine?…
Miss
Where are you? Why do you stay so far away? Come to me.
Husband
(Sits beside her)
Miss
Now tell me if you really love me.
Husband
But you know that… (He interrupts himself quickly) Of course.
Miss
Listen… There must have … come, tell me the truth, what was in the wine.
Husband
Well, do you think I … I would drug your wine?
Miss
Well, see, I can’t understand it. I’m really not that kind… We’ve known each other only since… Dear, I’m not that kind … honestly, I’m not—if you think that of me—
Husband
Well—why worry about that? I don’t think anything bad of you. I only think that you love me.
Miss
Yes…
Husband
After all, when two young people are alone in a room, and have dinner, and drink wine … there doesn’t need to be anything in the wine.
Miss
I merely said it to say something.
Husband
But, why?
Miss
(Almost defiantly) Because I was ashamed.
Husband
How absurd! There is no reason to be. Especially, since I made you think of your first sweetheart.
Miss
Yes.
Husband
Your first sweetheart.
Miss
Yes, yes…
Husband
Now I should like to know who the others were.
Miss
There weren’t any.
Husband
That is not true, it can’t be true.
Miss
Oh, please, don’t tease me.
Husband
Would you like a cigarette?
Miss
No, thanks.
Husband
Do you know how late it is?
Miss
Well?
Husband
Half-past eleven.
Miss
Really?
Husband
Well … and your mother? She’s used to this, is she?
Miss
Do you really want to send me home?
Husband
But earlier in the evening you yourself wanted—
Miss
You are quite changed. What have I done to you?
Husband
But, child, what is the matter with you, what do you imagine?
Miss
And it was only your looks, believe me, or you would have had to wait … many men have asked me to go with them to a private dining-room.
Husband
Well, would you like … to come here again with me soon … or rather somewhere else?
Miss
I don’t know.
Husband
What do you mean by, “I don’t know”?
Miss
Well, why don’t you make a date?
Husband
When? First of all, I must explain that I do not live in Vienna. I am only here for a few days’ visit now and then.
Miss
Oh, you’re not a Viennese?
Husband
Yes, I am a Viennese. But I am living out of town now…
Miss
Where?
Husband
Oh, well, that doesn’t matter.
Miss
Oh, don’t be frightened, I won’t come to see you.
Husband
If it would give you any pleasure you may come. I live in Graz.
Miss
Honestly?
Husband
Yes, why does that surprise you?
Miss
You are married, aren’t you?
Husband
(Greatly surprised) What makes you think that?
Miss
I just got the impression.
Husband
And you wouldn’t mind that at all?
Miss
Well, I would rather that you were single.—So you are married!—
Husband
But, tell me first what made you think of that?
Miss
If a man says he doesn’t live in Vienna, and he doesn’t always have time—
Husband
But that’s not so improbable.
Miss
I don’t believe it.
Husband
And wouldn’t it hurt your conscience to have caused a married man to become unfaithful?
Miss
Oh, my, no doubt your wife acts just like you.
Husband
(Very indignant) That will do. No more of such remarks.
Miss
I thought you didn’t have a wife.
Husband
Whether I have one or not—such remarks are uncalled for.
(He has risen)
Miss
But Karl, Karl, what is the matter? Are you angry? I really didn’t know that you were married. I was just talking. Come, don’t be angry.
Husband
(Comes back to her after a few minutes) You are strange creatures, you … women.
(He becomes tender again)
Miss
Stop … don’t … it’s too late now.
Husband
Well, listen to me a minute. Let’s talk seriously. I would like to see you again, to see you often.
Miss
Would you?
Husband
But one thing is necessary … that I can depend upon you. I can’t look out for you.
Miss
Oh, I can look out for myself.
Husband
You are … well, I can’t just say inexperienced—but, you are young—and—men in general are pretty unscrupulous.
Miss
Oh, my!
Husband
I don’t mean on the moral side only.—Well, you know what I mean—
Miss
Tell me, what do you think I am?
Husband
Look here—if you want me—me only—we can easily arrange it—even if I do generally live in[138] Graz. In a place like this where some one may come in at any moment, it isn’t very comfortable.
Miss
(Snuggles up to him)
Husband
Next time … we shall go somewhere else, won’t we?
Miss
Yes.
Husband
Where we may be entirely alone.
Miss
Yes.
Husband
(Embracing her passionately) We’ll discuss the rest on the way home. (He rises, and opens the door) Waiter … the bill!
A small room, furnished with taste and comfort. Red curtains half-darken the room. A large writing-table strewn with books and papers. A piano against the wall. The Sweet Young Miss and the Poet are disclosed. They are just entering. The Poet closes the door.
Poet
(Kisses her) My darling!
Miss
(With hat and coat) Oh! It’s very pretty here! Only you can’t see anything!
Poet
Your eyes will have to get used to this semi-darkness.—Those sweet eyes—
(Kisses her eyes)
Miss
But there won’t be time enough.
Poet
Why not?
Miss
Because I can only stop a moment.
Poet
But, you can take your hat off, can’t you?
Miss
Just for the sake of a minute?
Poet
(Takes the pin out of her hat which he removes)
And your coat—
Miss
The idea!—I have to leave right away.
Poet
But you must rest a while first. We have been walking for three hours.
Miss
Riding, you mean.
Poet
Yes, we rode home—but we ran around for a full three hours in the country. Now come, sit down, child … wherever you like—here at my desk;—no, that’s not comfortable. Sit down on the sofa.—That’s it. (He presses her down) If you are very tired, you may as well lie down. So. (He stretches her out on the sofa) There, put your head on the cushion.
Miss
(Laughing) But I’m not tired at all!
Poet
You merely imagine you’re not. So—and if you are sleepy, you can go to sleep. I shall be very quiet. And what’s more I can play you a lullaby … one of my own…
(He goes to the piano)
Miss
One of yours.
Poet
Yes.
Miss
But I thought, Robert, you were a professor.
Poet
I? But I told you I was a writer. But what made you think of that?
Miss
Because you said the piece you are playing is your own.
Poet
Yes … perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter. Well? Anyway it doesn’t matter who composed it, if only it is beautiful. Don’t you agree?
Miss
Of course … it must be beautiful … that’s the chief thing!—
Poet
Do you know what I meant by that?
Miss
By what?
Poet
By what I just said.
Miss
(Sleepily) Of course I do.
Poet
(Gets up, goes to her, and strokes her hair) You didn’t understand a word.
Miss
I’m not as stupid as that.
Poet
Certainly you are, but that is just the reason why I love you. It is so beautiful, when girls are stupid. I mean in the way you are.
Miss
Go on, you are talking nonsense.
Poet
Angel, little one! Isn’t it comfy on this soft, Persian couch cover?
Miss
Indeed, it is. Won’t you play something else on the piano?
Poet
No, I’d rather stay near you.
(Caressing her)
Miss
But hadn’t you better light the lamp?
Poet
Oh, no… The dim light is so restful. We were as if bathed in sunbeams all day. Now we’ve just climbed out of the bath and slipped on … the twilight like a bathrobe—(Laughs) No—that ought to be expressed differently… Don’t you think so?
Miss
I don’t know.
Poet
(Moves slightly away from her) Absolutely divine, this stupidity!
(He takes out a notebook, and writes a few words in it)
Miss
What are you doing? (She turns toward him) What are you writing?
Poet
(Softly) Sun, bath, twilight, cloak … so… (He puts the notebook back. Aloud) Nothing… Now tell me, sweetheart, wouldn’t you like something to eat or drink?
Miss
I’m not thirsty, but I am hungry.
Poet
Hm … it would suit me better, if you were thirsty. I have some cognac at home, but I have to send out for food.
Miss
Can’t you send somebody?
Poet
That is difficult, my servant isn’t here now—but, wait a minute—I will go myself … what would you like?
Miss
Oh, really don’t bother; I have to go home anyway.
Poet
Child, that’s out of the question. Now I will tell you something; when we leave, we will go together somewhere for supper.
Miss
Oh, no. I haven’t time for that. And, then, where could we go? Somebody we know might see us.
Poet
Do you know such a lot of people?
Miss
Well, it takes only one to make trouble for us.
Poet
Why trouble?
Miss
Well, suppose mother should hear about it…
Poet
We can go somewhere, where no one can see us. There are plenty of restaurants with private dining-rooms.
Miss
(Singing) “Let’s dine in a chambre separée!”
Poet
Have you ever been in a private dining-room?
Miss
To tell the truth—yes.
Poet
Who was the happy man?
Miss
Oh, it wasn’t the way you imagine… I went with a friend and her fiancé. They took me along.
Poet
And you expect me to believe that?
Miss
You needn’t believe it!
Poet
(Close to her) Did you blush? You can hardly see anything. I can’t even distinguish your features. (He touches her cheeks with his hands) But even so I recognize you.
Miss
Well, be careful that you don’t take me for some one else.
Poet
It is strange, I don’t seem to remember how you look.
Miss
Thank you!
Poet
(Seriously) It is almost uncanny. I can’t imagine any longer how you look—In a certain way I have already forgotten you—Now, if I couldn’t remember even the sound of your voice … what would you do then?—Something near and far away at the same time … it’s uncanny.
Miss
What are you talking about?
Poet
Nothing, my angel, nothing. Where are your lips?…
(He kisses her)
Miss
Wouldn’t it be better to light the lamp?
Poet
No… (Very tenderly) Tell me, do you love me?
Miss
Very much … oh, so much!
Poet
Have you ever loved any one as much as me?
Miss
I told you already that I didn’t.
Poet
But…
(He sighs)
Miss
He was my fiancé.
Poet
I’d rather you wouldn’t think of him now.
Miss
Why … what’s the difference … look…
Poet
We might imagine now that we were in a palace in India.
Miss
I’m sure people there wouldn’t be as wicked as you are.
Poet
How idiotic! Perfectly divine—Ah, if you only know what you are to me…
Miss
Well?
Poet
Don’t always push me away, I’m not going to hurt you—
Miss
My corset hurts me.
Poet
(Simply) Take it off.
Miss
Yes. But you must behave.
Poet
Of course!
Miss
(Rises, and takes off her corset in the darkness)
Poet
(Sits in the meantime on the sofa) Tell me, aren’t you at all curious to know my name?
Miss
Yes, what is it?
Poet
I’d rather not tell you my real name, but the name I go by.
Miss
What is the difference?
Poet
I mean the name I use as a writer.
Miss
Oh, you don’t write under your real name?
Poet
(Close to her)
Miss
Oh … stop … don’t.
Poet
What fragrance! How sweet.
(He kisses her breasts)
Miss
You are tearing my chemise.
Poet
Away with it … away with it … everything is superfluous.
Miss
Oh, Robert.
Poet
And now enter into our Indian palace.
Miss
Tell me first—do you really love me?
Poet
I adore you. (Kisses her passionately) I[153] adore you, my sweetheart, my springtime … my…
Miss
Robert … Robert…
Poet
It was heaven… My name is…
Miss
Robert—oh, my Robert!
Poet
I call myself Biebitz.
Miss
Why do you call yourself Biebitz?
Poet
My name is not Biebitz—I just use it as a pseudonym … well, don’t you recognize the name?
Miss
No.
Poet
You don’t know the name Biebitz? Ah—Perfectly divine! Really? You are just pretending you don’t know it, aren’t you?
Miss
No really, I never heard it.
Poet
Don’t you ever go to the theater?
Miss
Oh, yes—I was at the opera only the other day with—you know, with one of my friends and her uncle, to hear Cavalleria Rusticana.
Poet
Hm, you don’t go then to see plays.
Miss
I never get tickets for them.
Poet
I’ll send you a ticket soon.
Miss
Oh, do! And don’t forget it. But for something funny.
Poet
Oh … something funny … you don’t care to see anything sad?
Miss
Not very much.
Poet
Not even if it is a play of mine.
Miss
A play of yours? Do you write for the theater?
Poet
Let me light a candle now. I haven’t seen you since you have become my best beloved—Angel!
(He lights a candle)
Miss
Don’t. I’m ashamed. Give me a cover at least.
Poet
Later!
(He approaches her with the light, and looks at her a long while)
Miss
(Covering her face with her hands) Go away, Robert!
Poet
You are beautiful, you are Beauty itself. You are Nature herself. You are the simplicity which is holy.
Miss
Ouch! You are dropping wax on me. Look, why aren’t you more careful?
Poet
(Puts the candle away) You are that for which I have long sought. You love me for my own sake. You would love me even if I were only a counter-jumper.[156] That’s balm to one’s heart. I must confess I was suspicious until this moment. Tell me, honestly, you didn’t have any notion that I am Biebitz?
Miss
Oh, pshaw, I don’t even know what you are talking about. I never heard of any Biebitz.
Poet
What is fame! No, forget what I have told you. Forget even the name. I am Robert and I want to remain Robert to you. I was only joking. (Lightly) I am not a writer at all. I’m a clerk, and in the evening I play the piano in a dancehall.
Miss
But now I’m all mixed up … and the way you look at one. What is the matter, yes, what do you mean?
Poet
It is very strange—something that has never happened to me, sweetheart; I am on the verge of tears. You move me deeply. We ought to live together. Will you? We will be very much in love with each other.
Miss
Is it true about the dancehall?
Poet
Yes, but don’t ask any more about it. If you love me, don’t ask me anything. Tell me, can’t you get away for a few weeks?
Miss
How do you mean get away?
Poet
Well, I mean, leave home?
Miss
How absurd! How could I! What would mother say? And without me everything would be topsy-turvy at home in no time.
Poet
It would be so wonderful to live with you a few weeks, all alone with you, somewhere far away, in the forest, in the world of nature… Nature. And then, some day, “Good-by”—each going, without the other knowing where.
Miss
You are talking already about saying good-by. And I thought that you loved me such a lot.
Poet
That is just the reason—(Bends over her, and kisses her upon the forehead.) You sweet darling!
Miss
Please, hold me tight. I feel so cold.
Poet
I fancy it’s time for you to dress. Wait, I’ll light a few more candles for you.
Miss
(Rising) Don’t look this way.
Poet
No. (At the window) Tell me, child, are you happy?
Miss
What do you mean?
Poet
I mean are you happy the way things are in general?
Miss
Well, they might be better.
Poet
You misunderstand me. You have told me enough about your conditions at home. I know you are not a princess. Leaving all that aside, do you feel alive. Do you feel life pulsing through you?
Miss
Come, have you a comb?
Poet
(Goes to the dressing-table, hands her a comb, and watches her) Good Lord, how lovely you look!
Miss
Please … don’t!
Poet
Please, stay a while yet. I’ll get something for supper, and…
Miss
But it is awfully late already.
Poet
It is not yet nine.
Miss
Dear me, I must hurry. Please!
Poet
When shall I see you again?
Miss
When would you like to see me?
Poet
To-morrow.
Miss
What day is to-morrow?
Poet
Saturday.
Miss
Oh, then I can’t. I must take my little sister to her guardian.
Poet
Then Sunday … hm … Sunday … on Sunday … now I’ll have to explain something to you.—I’m not Biebitz, but Biebitz is a friend of mine. I’ll introduce him to you sometime. Biebitz’s play will be given Sunday. I’ll send you tickets, and take you home after the performance. You will tell me then how you liked the play. Won’t you?
Miss
Here you are talking about this Biebitz again.—I don’t understand what it is all about.
Poet
I won’t know you really, until I know what impression the play made on you.
Miss
Now … I’m ready.
Poet
Come, sweetheart.
(They go out)
A room in an inn in the country. It is an evening in spring; moonlight floods the meadows and hills; the windows are open. A deep silence reigns. The Poet and the Actress enter, and as they cross the threshold, the candle which the Poet is carrying in his hand is blown out.
Poet
Oh…
Actress
What’s the matter?
Poet
The candle.—But we don’t need any. Look, how light it is. Wonderful!
Actress
(Sinks suddenly down at the window with her hands folded)
Poet
What’s the matter with you?
Actress
(Remains silent)
Poet
(Going to her) What are you doing?
Actress
(Indignant) Can’t you see that I am praying?—
Poet
Do you believe in God?
Actress
Of course I do; I am not a fool.
Poet
Oh, I see!
Actress
Come, kneel down beside me. It will do you good to pray just once. None of the gems will drop out of your crown.
Poet
(Kneels beside her, and puts his arm around her waist)
Actress
Libertine!—(Rises). And do you know to whom I prayed?
Poet
To God, I suppose.
Actress
(With deep sarcasm) Oh, of course! It was to you to whom I prayed.
Poet
Then why did you look out of the window?
Actress
Tell me rather where you have lured me.
Poet
But, child, it was your idea. You wanted to go to the country—and picked out this very place.
Actress
Well, wasn’t I right?
Poet
Certainly. It’s charming here. When you consider that we are just two hours from Vienna—complete solitude. And delightful scenery!
Actress
Isn’t it? If you had any real talent, this place might inspire you to write.
Poet
Have you been here before?
Actress
Have I been here before? Indeed I have! I have lived here for years.
Poet
With whom?
Actress
With Dick, of course.
Poet
Oh, really!
Actress
How I adored that man!—
Poet
You’ve told me all about that already.
Actress
I am sorry—I can go away again, if I bore you!
Poet
You bore me?… You can’t imagine what you mean to me… You are a whole world in itself… You are divine, you are a genius… You are the simplicity which is holy… Yes, you… But you oughtn’t to talk about Dick now.
Actress
That was merely a slip! Well!—
Poet
I am glad that you feel that way.
Actress
Come, give me a kiss!
Poet
(Kisses her)
Actress
But now we had better say good night. Good night, darling!
Poet
What do you mean by that?
Actress
I mean, I am going to lie down and go to sleep.
Poet
Yes,—that’s very well, but when it comes to saying “good night” … where do I sleep?
Actress
There are surely a lot of other rooms in this house.
Poet
But they don’t appeal to me. Don’t you think I had better light a candle now?
Actress
Yes.
Poet
(Lights a candle, which stands upon the dressing-table) What a charming room … and what pious people they must be. Pictures of saints[170] everywhere… It would be interesting to spend some time among people like this … quite another world. How little we know of the lives of others!
Actress
Don’t talk nonsense, but just give me the bag from the table.
Poet
Here, beloved!
Actress
(Takes a small framed picture out of the hand-bag and puts it on the dressing-table)
Poet
What’s that?
Actress
That’s the Virgin.
Poet
Do you always carry her around with you?
Actress
She is my talisman. And now go, Robert!
Poet
You are joking? Can’t I help you?
Actress
No, you must go now.
Poet
And when may I return?
Actress
In ten minutes.
Poet
(Kisses her) Au revoir!
Actress
Where will you go?
Poet
I shall walk up and down under your window. I love to wander about outdoors at night time. My finest inspirations come to me that way. And especially near you, under the breath of your longing, I might call it … entwined in your art.
Actress
You talk like an idiot…
Poet
(Hurt) There are women who might say … like a poet.
Actress
Oh, well, but do go now. But don’t start to flirt with the waitress.—
Poet
(Goes)
Actress
(Undresses. She hears the Poet going down the wooden stairway, and, then hears his footsteps below her window. As soon as she is undressed, she goes to the window and looks down to where he stands waiting. She calls to him in a whisper) Come!
Poet
(Comes quickly upstairs and runs toward her. She in the meantime has gone to bed, and extinguished the light. He locks the door)
Actress
So, now you may sit down beside me, and tell me a story.
Poet
(Sits down on the bed beside her) Hadn’t I better close the window? Isn’t it too cold for you?
Actress
Oh, no!
Poet
Now, what shall I tell you?
Actress
Tell me to whom you are unfaithful at this moment?
Poet
I’m sorry, I’m not unfaithful yet.
Actress
Well, if it’s any satisfaction to you, I am unfaithful to some one too.
Poet
So I can imagine.
Actress
And who do you suppose it is?
Poet
But, child, how do you expect me to know?
Actress
Guess, then.
Poet
Wait … your manager.
Actress
My dear man, I’m not a chorus-girl.
Poet
Well, I am only guessing.
Actress
Guess again.
Poet
Then it’s your leading-man … Benno—
Actress
Nonsense! He doesn’t care for women at all … didn’t you know that? He carries on with his postman!
Poet
No, really!—
Actress
Now come, kiss me.
Poet
(Embraces her)
Actress
But what are you doing?
Poet
Why do you torment me so?
Actress
Listen, Robert, I have a suggestion to make to you. Come lie down in bed with me.
Poet
I accept.
Actress
Come quickly, come quickly!
Poet
Yes … if I had had my way, I would have been there long ago… Listen…
Actress
What?
Poet
The crickets are chirping outside.
Actress
You are crazy, child, there are no crickets here.
Poet
But surely you hear them.
Actress
Hurry up.
Poet
(Beside her) Here I am.
Actress
Now lie quite still… Sh … don’t move…
Poet
Yes, but why?
Actress
You would rather like to have an affair with me?
Poet
I should think that’s obvious by now.
Actress
There are many who would like that…
Poet
But it would seem that at the moment the odds are on my side…
Actress
Then, come, my cricket! I shall call you “cricket” from now on.
Poet
All right…
Actress
Now, tell me, whom am I deceiving?
Poet
Whom?… Perhaps me…
Actress
Child, you have softening of the brain.
Poet
Or some one … some one whom you have never seen … some one, whom you don’t even know, some one—who is predestined for you and whom you will never find…
Actress
Please don’t talk such magnificent nonsense.
Poet
… Isn’t it strange … you too—and yet one could think.—But no, it would destroy the best in you, if one should … come, come—come.—
Actress
That’s better than acting in idiotic plays… Don’t you think so?
Poet
Well, it seems to me, that it is a good thing you sometimes have to act in an intelligent one.
Actress
You conceited puppy. I suppose you are thinking of one of your own plays again.
Poet
Yes, I am.
Actress
(Seriously) It is really a splendid play!
Poet
Well, then!
Actress
You are a great genius, Robert!
Poet
And you might also tell me now why you didn’t turn up the day before yesterday. There was absolutely nothing the matter with you.
Actress
Well, I wanted to annoy you.
Poet
But why? What have I done to you?—
Actress
You were over-bearing.
Poet
In what way?
Actress
Everybody at the theater thinks you are.
Poet
Really.
Actress
But I told them, he has a perfect right to be over-bearing.
Poet
And what did they say?
Actress
What could they say? I am not on speaking-terms with any of them.
Poet
Oh, I see.
Actress
They would like nothing better than to poison me, every one of them. But they won’t succeed.
Poet
Don’t think now of others. Let’s be happy that we are here together, and tell me that you love me.
Actress
What further proof can you want?
Poet
It’s a thing that can’t be proven anyway.
Actress
I like that! What else do you want?
Poet
How many are there that you have tried to convince in this way … did you love all of them?
Actress
No, I have loved only one.
Poet
(Embraces her) My…
Actress
Dick.
Poet
My name is Robert. What can I mean to you, if you are thinking of Dick, now?
Actress
You are a mood of mine.
Poet
I am pleased to know it.
Actress
Well, tell me, aren’t you proud?
Poet
Why should I be proud?
Actress
It seems to me that you have good reason to be.
Poet
Oh, because of that.
Actress
Yes, because of that, my little cricket!—What about the chirping? Are they still chirping?
Poet
All the time. Don’t you hear them?
Actress
Of course, I hear them. But, child, those are frogs.
Poet
You are wrong. Frogs croak.
Actress
Of course, they croak.
Poet
But this is not croaking, child, this is chirping.
Actress
You are about the most stubborn person I have ever met. Kiss me, froggie.
Poet
Please don’t call me that. It gets on my nerves.
Actress
Well, what shall I call you?
Poet
My name is Robert.
Actress
Oh, but that’s stupid.
Poet
But won’t you please call me simply by my own name?
Actress
Well, then, Robert, give me a kiss… Ah! (She kisses him) Now, are you satisfied, froggie?
Poet
May I light a cigarette?
Actress
Give me one too. (He takes his cigarette-case from the dressing-table; takes two cigarettes out; lights both, and gives her one) By the way, you haven’t said a word about my performance yesterday.
Poet
What performance?
Actress
Well.
Poet
Oh, yes. I wasn’t at the theater.
Actress
You are joking.
Poet
Not in the least. When you didn’t turn up the day before, I assumed you hadn’t fully recovered yesterday, and so I decided not to go.
Actress
You missed something wonderful.
Poet
Yes.
Actress
It was a sensation. The people actually grew pale.
Poet
You saw that?
Actress
Benno said: Child, you acted divinely.
Poet
Hm!… And so ill the day before.
Actress
Indeed I was. And do you know why? Because I felt such a longing for you.
Poet
A little while ago you said that you stayed away just to annoy me.
Actress
But what do you know about my love for you? Everything leaves you cold. And I have been delirious for nights. In a high fever—hundred and four degrees.
Poet
Rather high for a mood.
Actress
You call that a mood? I am dying for love of you, and you call it a mood—?
Poet
And Dick…?
Actress
Dick?… Don’t talk to me about that galley-slave!—
The bedroom of the Actress, luxuriously furnished. It is midday. The curtains are still down; a candle is burning on the dressing-table. The Actress is disclosed in her four-poster bed. Many newspapers are strewn about on the cover. The Count in the uniform of a captain of the Dragoons enters. He remains standing at the door.
Actress
Ah, Count.
Count
Your mother said I might, otherwise I would not—
Actress
Please, come closer.
Count
I kiss your hand. Pardon me—when you come in from the street … I can’t see a thing yet. So … here we are (at her bed). I kiss your hand.
Actress
Please sit down, Count.
Count
Your mother said, My daughter isn’t well… Nothing serious, I hope.
Actress
Nothing serious? I was on the verge of death.
Count
Oh, dear, oh, dear, is it possible?
Actress
It is very good of you to have taken the trouble to call.
Count
On the verge of death! And only last night you acted divinely.
Actress
It was a great triumph, wasn’t it?
Count
Tremendous!… The audience was carried away. I won’t say anything about myself.
Actress
Thanks, for the beautiful flowers.
Count
Nothing at all, Mademoiselle.
Actress
(Indicating with her eyes a large flower-basket,[189] which stands on a little table near the window) There they are.
Count
You were literally overwhelmed with flowers and wreaths yesterday.
Actress
They are still in my dressing-room. All I brought home was your flowers.
Count
(Kissing her hand) How sweet of you.
Actress
(Suddenly seizes his hand, and kisses it)
Count
But, Mademoiselle.
Actress
Don’t be frightened, Count, it doesn’t put you under any obligations.
Count
You are a strange being … a sort of a problem almost—
(Pause)
Actress
Miss Birken, I suppose, is much less of a problem.
Count
That little lady isn’t a problem at all, although … I really know her only very slightly.
Actress
Oh!
Count
That’s the actual truth. But you are a problem. I’ve always had a yearning for a problem. It’s really been a deep personal loss to me, that until yesterday… I never saw you act.
Actress
Really?
Count
Yes! You see, going to the theater is so complicated. I am used to dining late … then when I get there, the best part of the play is over. Isn’t that true?
Actress
From now on, I suppose, you will dine earlier.
Count
I’ve thought of that too. Or maybe I won’t dine at all. Dining isn’t a special pleasure anyhow.
Actress
Are there any pleasures left to an old man like you?
Count
That’s a question I often ask myself. But I am not an old man. There must be some other reason.
Actress
Do you think so?
Count
Yes. Bobby, for instance, says, that I am a philosopher. You know he means that I do too much thinking.
Actress
Yes … thinking is a misfortune.
Count
I have too much time, that’s why I reflect. You see, I’ve often thought if they would transfer me to Vienna, things would be better. There’s diversion here, stimulation. But at the bottom, it’s not really very different from up there.
Actress
What do you mean by “up there”?
Count
Well, down there, you know, in Hungary, in the God forsaken country towns, where I’ve been stationed most of the time.
Actress
And what did you do in Hungary?
Count
Well, as I am telling you, military service.
Actress
Yes, but why did you stay in Hungary so long?
Count
Oh, things happen that way.
Actress
But it must be enough to drive one mad.
Count
But why? You have a lot more work there, than here. You know, drilling recruits, breaking in mounts … and the country really isn’t as bad as they say. They are really quite beautiful, the lowlands—and marvelous sunsets. Too bad I’m not a painter, I’ve often thought if I were, I would paint them. We had a young chap, Splany, in our regiment, who could do it.—But, dear me, what dull stories I am telling you.
Actress
Please go on; they are delightful!
Count
Do you know, the nice thing about you is the way[193] one can chat with you, Bobby told me all about it. And it’s so seldom one can find any one like that.
Actress
Down there in Hungary, I suppose.
Count
But it’s quite the same in Vienna! People are always the same. Where there are more of them, the crowd is larger. That’s the whole difference. Tell me, do you really like people?
Actress
Like them—? I hate them! I hate to look at them. I never see any one. I’m always alone. Nobody enters my house.
Count
You see, I sort of thought that you hated people. It must often be the case with artists. If one lives in the higher regions… Well, you are lucky, you know at least why you live!
Actress
Who told you that? I haven’t the slightest notion what I’m living for!
Count
But really—to be famous—to be fêted—
Actress
Does that mean happiness?
Count
Happiness? There really is no such thing as happiness. All the things that people talk about most, don’t exist … for instance, love. That’s one of them.
Actress
I suppose you are right.
Count
Enjoyment … intoxication … very good, nobody can deny them … they are something real. Now, when I am enjoying myself … very good, I am aware that I am enjoying myself. Or I am intoxicated, good. That also is something real. And when it’s over, well then it’s over.
Actress
(Grandly) It is over.
Count
But as soon as one does not, how shall I express it, as soon as one does not give oneself up to the moment, I mean, if one thinks of the future or the past … well, everything is over in a moment… Afterwards … there is sadness … before … there is uncertainty … in a word, one only becomes confused. Isn’t that so?
Actress
(Nods with wide open eyes) It seems, you have grasped the essence of things.
Count
And, you see, when you have once clearly grasped this, it really doesn’t matter whether you live in Vienna or in the Puszta[3] or in Steinamanger.[4] You see, for instance … where may I put my cap? Yes, thank you … what were we talking about?
Actress
About the Puszta.
Count
Of course. Well, as I said, there isn’t much difference, whether I spend the evening in the officers’ mess or at the club. It’s all the same.
Actress
And what about love?
Count
If you believe in it, some one will always be there who will love you.
Actress
Like Miss Birken, for example.
Count
I really don’t see why you always have to come back to that little lady.
Actress
But she’s your mistress, isn’t she?
Count
Who says so?
Actress
Everybody knows it.
Count
Except myself, strange to say.
Actress
But you fought a duel on her account!
Count
Maybe. I was even killed without my knowing it.
Actress
You are a gentleman, won’t you sit closer to me?
Count
With pleasure.
Actress
Here. (She draws him to her, and passes her[197] hand through his hair) I knew you would come to-day.
Count
How did you know?
Actress
I knew it last night in the theater.
Count
You saw me from the stage, then?
Actress
But man alive! Didn’t you notice that I acted for you alone?
Count
No, really?
Actress
I was as on wings, when I saw you sitting in the first row.
Count
As on wings? On my account? I hadn’t the slightest suspicion that you noticed me!
Actress
Your aristocratic reserve is enough to drive one to despair.
Count
But…
Actress
“But”!… At least, take your saber off!
Count
If you permit.
(Takes it off, and leans it against the bed)
Actress
And now give me a kiss.
Count
(Kisses her, she clings to him)
Actress
It would have been better if I had never seen you.
Count
But this seems better to me.
Actress
Count, you are a poseur!
Count
I—why?
Actress
Can’t you imagine how happy many a man would be if he were in your place!
Count
I’m perfectly happy.
Actress
Well, I thought happiness didn’t exist. Why do you look at me that way? I believe you are afraid of me, Count!
Count
I told you, Mademoiselle, you are a problem.
Actress
Oh, don’t bother me with your philosophy … come to me. And ask me for anything at all … you can have whatever you want. You are so handsome.
Count
Well then, may I ask (kissing her hand) that I may call again this evening?
Actress
This evening … but I have to act then.
Count
After the play.
Actress
And you ask for nothing else?
Count
I shall ask for everything else after the play.
Actress
(Hurt) You can beg a long while then, you abominable poseur.
Count
But, see, we’ve been perfectly frank with each other so far … it seems to me it would be so much more beautiful after the play … much cozier than now, when … I have a sort of feeling the door might open any moment…
Actress
It does not open from the outside.
Count
Well, you see, I have an idea one shouldn’t lightly spoil in advance something which may be very beautiful.
Actress
Possibly!…
Count
To tell the truth, love in the morning seems rather horrible to me.
Actress
Well—you are about the worst case of lunacy I have ever met!
Count
I am not talking about women in general … because in general it doesn’t make any difference anyway. But women like you … no, you may call me a fool a hundred times over. But women[201] like you … one doesn’t take them before breakfast. And so … you know … so…
Actress
Oh, but you are a darling!
Count
You understand, what I have said, don’t you? I sort of imagine it like…
Actress
How do you imagine it?
Count
Like this… I wait for you in a carriage after the play, then we drive somewhere for supper—
Actress
I am not Miss Birken.
Count
I didn’t mean to say you were. Only, it seems to me, you have to be in the right sort of mood for everything. In my case the mood doesn’t come until supper. The most beautiful thing of all is when we drive home together, and then…
Actress
And then?
Count
And then … well, that depends upon circumstances.
Actress
Do sit closer. Closer.
Count
(Sitting down on the bed) Seems to me, that out of the pillows comes a fragrance … mignonette—isn’t it?
Actress
It’s very warm in here, don’t you think so?
Count
(Bends down, and kisses her neck)
Actress
Oh, Count, that is contrary to your program.
Count
Who said anything about “program.” I never have any program.
Actress
(Drawing him close to her)
Count
It really is very warm.
Actress
Do you think so? And so dark, just as if it were evening… (Draws him toward her) It is evening … it is night… Close your eyes, if there is too much light for you. Come!… Come!…
Count
(Offers no further resistance)
Actress
And what about atmosphere now, you poseur?
Count
You are a little devil.
Actress
What a thing to say!
Count
Well, then an angel.
Actress
You should have been an actor! Really! You understand women! And do you know, what I shall do now?
Count
Well?
Actress
I shall tell you that I shall never see you again.
Count
But why?
Actress
Never, never. You are too dangerous! You would drive a woman mad. Here you are standing before me, as though nothing had happened.
Count
But…
Actress
Please remember, Count, I have just given you everything.
Count
I shall never forget it!
Actress
And what about to-night?
Count
What do you mean?
Actress
Well—you wanted to wait for me after the theater?
Count
Oh, yes, let’s say, the day after to-morrow.
Actress
What do you mean by “the day after to-morrow”? We were talking about to-day.
Count
There wouldn’t be much sense in that.
Actress
Old man!
Count
You don’t quite understand me. What I mean has rather to do, how shall I express myself, rather concerns the soul.
Actress
What concern of mine is your soul?
Count
Believe me, it has much to do with it. It seems all wrong to me, this notion, that you can separate the two.
Actress
Don’t bother me with your philosophy. If I want any of that, I can read books.
Count
One never learns from books.
Actress
Very true! And that’s why you ought to wait for me to-night. As to the soul, we will come to some sort of an understanding, you villain!
Count
Well, then, if I may, I shall wait in my carriage…
Actress
You shall wait for me here in my home—
Count
… After the play.
Actress
Of course.
(He buckles on his sword)
Actress
What are you doing?
Count
It seems to me it is time for me to go. For a formal call I have stayed a bit too long as it is.
Actress
Well, this evening it shall be a formal call.
Count
Do you think so?
Actress
I’ll take care of that. And now give me a last kiss, you darling little philosopher. Here, you seducer, you … sweet child, you seller of souls, you … panther. (After she has ardently kissed him several times, she thrusts him violently away) Count, you have done me a great honor.
Count
Not at all, mademoiselle! (At the door) Au revoir.
Actress
Good-by, and love to Steinamanger.
It is morning toward six o’clock. A poorly furnished room with one window. The dirty yellowish blinds are down. Tattered, greenish curtains. On the dresser are several photographs, and beside them a cheap woman’s hat of conspicuously bad taste. Behind the mirror are cheap Japanese fans. On the table over which is drawn a reddish cover is an oil-lamp. It is burning low with a disagreeable odor, and has a shade of yellow paper. Beside it is a pitcher with remains of beer, and a half-empty glass.—On the floor beside the bed a woman’s clothes are lying in disorder. They look as though they had just been quickly thrown off. The Girl lies sleeping in the bed, breathing quietly. The Count is lying on the sofa fully dressed with his light overcoat on. His hat lies on the floor at the head of the sofa.
Count
(Stirs, rubs his eyes, sits up suddenly, remains seated, and looks around) Where am I?… Oh, yes … I actually went home with the woman, it seems… (He rises quickly, notices her bed) Oh, there she is… Queer, what sort of things[210] can happen, even at my age. I haven’t the faintest notion, did they carry me up here? No… I remember—coming into the room… I was still awake then, or waked up … or … or maybe it’s only the room that reminds of something?… ’Pon my soul, yes, of course … it was yesterday I saw it… (Looks at his watch) What! yesterday, a couple of hours ago!—But, I knew, that something had to happen… I felt it in my bones … when I began to drink yesterday, I felt that … and what has happened?… Nothing… Or did there…? ’Pon my soul … for … for ten years it hasn’t happened to me that I don’t know… Well, let’s be honest at any rate, I was drunk… If I only knew since when… I remember perfectly when Bobby and I went into the all-night café, and … no, no… We left together … and then on the way… Yes, that’s it, Bobby and I rode in my carriage… But, why do I worry my brains about it? It doesn’t really matter. Let’s see that we get out of here. (Rises. The lamp shakes) Oh! (Looks at the sleeping Girl) Well, she sleeps the sleep of the just. I don’t remember anything—but I’ll put the money on the table … and then, good-by… (He stands in front of her, and looks at her for a considerable time) If I[211] didn’t know what she is! (Studies her) I’ve known many who didn’t look as virtuous even in their sleep. ’Pon my soul… Bobby would say again, I’m philosophizing, but the truth is, sleep makes all equal, so it seems to me—like its brother, death… Hm, I should like to know, whether… No, I’d remember that… No, no, I dropped like a log on the sofa right away … and nothing happened… It is unbelievable how much alike all women sometimes look… Well, let’s go (He is about to go) Oh, of course.
(He takes his wallet, and is about to take out a banknote)
Girl
(Awakening) Well … who’s there so early in the morning—? (Recognizing him) Good morning, sonny!
Count
Good morning. Have a good sleep?
Girl
(Stretching) Oh, come here. Give me a little kiss.
Count
(Bends down to her, considers, and draws back) I was just going…
Girl
Going?
Count
It’s really about time.
Girl
You want to go away?
Count
(Half-embarrassed) Well…
Girl
Well, good-by, you’ll come some other time.
Count
Yes, good-by. But, won’t you give me your hand?
Girl
(Reaches out her hand from under the cover)
Count
(Takes her hand, and kisses it mechanically, and becoming aware of it, he smiles) Just as with a princess. Besides, if one only…
Girl
Why do you look at me that way?
Count
If one only sees the head, as now … anyway, each and every one looks innocent when she first[213] awakes … ’pon my soul, one might imagine almost anything, if the kerosene didn’t smell so…
Girl
Yes, the lamps are always a nuisance.
Count
How old are you really?
Girl
Well, what would you guess?
Count
Twenty-four.
Girl
Oh, of course!
Count
Older?
Girl
I’m not yet twenty.
Count
And how long have you been…
Girl
A year.
Count
You began early.
Girl
Better too early, than too late.
Count
(Sits down upon her bed) Tell me, are you really happy?
Girl
Am I, what?
Count
I mean, are things going well with you?
Girl
Oh, things always go well with me.
Count
Yes… Well, did it never occur to you that you might become something else?
Girl
What might I become?
Count
Well… You are a very pretty girl. You might take a lover, for example.
Girl
Do you imagine I haven’t any?
Count
Yes, I know that—But I mean just one single one, who would take care of you, so that you wouldn’t have to go with everybody.
Girl
I don’t go with everybody. Thank heaven, I don’t have to. I pick those I want.
Count
(Looks around the room)
Girl
(Noticing it) We move downtown next month, to the Spiegelgasse.
Count
We? Who?
Girl
Well, the Madam, and the couple of other girls who live here.
Count
There are others—
Girl
Next door … don’t you hear?… that is Milly. She was in the café too.
Count
I hear some one snoring.
Girl
That’s Milly. She will snore the whole day long until ten o’clock to-night. Then she gets up, and goes to the café.
Count
What an awful life!
Girl
Of course it is. It annoys the Madam a lot. I’m always on the streets by noon.
Count
What do you do on the streets at noon?
Girl
What do you suppose I do? I’m going on my beat then.
Count
Oh, yes … of course… (Rises, takes out his wallet, and puts a banknote on the table) Good-by!
Girl
Going already… Good-by… Call again soon.
(Turns on her side)
Count
(Stands still) Tell me, is everything a matter of indifference to you already?
Girl
What?
Count
I mean, don’t you get pleasure out of anything any more?
Girl
(Yawning) I want to sleep.
Count
It’s all the same to you whether he is young or old or whether he…
Girl
Why do you ask?
Count
… Well (Suddenly hitting upon a thought) ’pon my soul, now I know of whom you remind me, it’s…
Girl
Do I look like some one?
Count
Unbelievable, unbelievable. Now please, don’t talk, at least not for a minute… (Looking at her) The very same features. (He kisses her suddenly on the eyes), the very image.
Girl
Well…
Count
’Pon my soul, it’s too bad that you … aren’t something different… You could make your fortune!
Girl
You talk just like Frank.
Count
Who is Frank?
Girl
The waiter in our café.
Count
In what way am I just like Frank?
Girl
He is also always telling me I might make my fortune, and wanting me to marry him.
Count
Why don’t you?
Girl
No thank you… I don’t want to marry, no, not for any price… Later on, perhaps.
Count
The eyes … the very same eyes… Bobby would surely call me a fool.—But I must kiss your[219] eyes once more … so … and now God bless you, now I must go.
Girl
Good-by…
Count
(At the door) Tell me … aren’t you a bit surprised?…
Girl
At what?
Count
That I don’t want anything of you.
Girl
There are many men who aren’t in the mood in the morning.
Count
Of course… (To himself) Absurd, that I expect to be surprised… Well, good-by… (He is near the door) But really, I’m disappointed. I ought to know that women like her care only about money … what am I saying … it is beautiful, that at least she doesn’t pretend; should make one glad… (Aloud) Do you know, I shall come to see you again soon?
Girl
(With closed eyes) All right.
Count
When are you at home?
Girl
I’m always at home. You only have to ask for Leocadia.
Count
Leocadia… All right—Well, God bless you. (At the door) The wine is still in my head. But after all it is sublime… I am with a woman like her and haven’t done anything but kiss her eyes, because she reminded me of some one… (Turns toward her) Tell me, Leocadia, does it often happen that any one leaves you in this way?
Girl
What way?
Count
As I do.
Girl
In the morning?
Count
No … have you ever had any one with you,—who didn’t want anything of you?
Girl
No, that has never happened to me.
Count
Well, what do you think then? Do you think I didn’t like you?
Girl
Why shouldn’t you like me? You liked me well enough by night.
Count
I like you now, too.
Girl
But you liked me better last night.
Count
What makes you think that?
Girl
Why ask such foolish questions?
Count
Last night … well, tell me, didn’t I drop right down on the sofa?
Girl
Certainly … with me.
Count
With you?
Girl
Yes, don’t you remember?
Count
I did … both of us…
Girl
But you fell asleep right away.
Count
Right away… So … that’s what happened?…
Girl
Yes, sonny. But you must have been terribly drunk, that you don’t remember.
Count
So… And yet … there is a faint resemblance… Good-by… (Listens) … What is the matter?
Girl
The servant is up. Give her a tip as you go out. The outside door is open, so you won’t have to give anything to the janitor.
Count
(In the anteroom) Well… It would have been beautiful, if I had kissed her only on the eyes. It would have been almost an adventure… But[223] it wasn’t my destiny. (The servant opens the door) Ah—here… Good-night.—
Servant
Good morning!
Count
Of course … good morning … good morning.
[1] The Luna Park of Vienna.
[2] A Parisian dancer, famous in the nineties.
[3] A monotonous, treeless region in the great plain of Hungary.
[4] A provincial town in Hungary about 60 miles south of Vienna.
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