MRS. FLAMM

Be open with me, you understand? For my part you can go home now! But come back to-morrow! An' listen to this thing I say: Be glad! A woman ought to be glad of her child....

ROSE

An' God knows that I am! An' I will fight it all through! Only—nobody can't help me to do it!

[Exit quickly.

MRS. FLAMM [Alone. She looks after ROSE, sighs, takes the child's shift from her lap, unfolds it as before and says:] Ah, lass,'tis a good fortune that you have, not an evil! There's none that's greater for a woman! Hold it fast!

THE CURTAIN FALLS



THE THIRD ACT

A fertile landscape. In the foreground, to the right, on a triangular piece of greensward slightly below the level of the fields, there stands an old pear tree, at the foot of which a spring empties into a primitive basin of stone. The middle distance is of meadow land. In the background a pool, bordered by reeds and dotted by water plants, lies in a grove of alder trees and bushes of hazelnut, willow and beech. The meadows extend on either side encircled by immemorial oaks, elms, beeches and birch trees. Between the foliage of the trees and bushes the church spires of distant villages are visible. To the left, behind the bushes, arise the thatched roofs of the field barns.

It is a hot afternoon of early August.

From afar is heard the hum of the threshing machine. BERND and AUGUST KEIL come from, the right. They are worn out from labour and from the heat. The men are clad only in their shirts, breeches, boots and caps. Each carries a hoe across his shoulder, a scythe in his hand, and carries at his belt a cowherd's horn and whetstone.

BERND

'Tis hot an' to spare to-day. A man must rest a bit! But a feelin' o' peace comes to you workin' on your own ground.

AUGUST

The trouble is I'm not used to mowin'.

BERND

You went an' did your share right bravely.

AUGUST

Yes, yes! But how long can I do it? All my limbs are twitchin' an' hurtin' me now.

BERND

You can rest content, my son. A man's got to be used to that kind o' work. An' in your case 'tis only an exception. But, 's I said, you could well go an' be a gard'ner.

AUGUST

For the space of a day. On the second I'd collapse. There's no use; I'm but a broken reed. I went to the county physician again. 'Twas the same as always. He just shrugged his shoulders.

BERND

You're well now an' in God's hands. The most you might do is to put a few rusty nails in water an' drink the rinsings two or three times a week. That purifies the blood an' strengthens the heart.—I only hope the weather'll keep on this way.

AUGUST

The heat's too terrible. When we were mowin', I thought I heard thunder.

BERND

[Kneeling down on the edge of the basin and drinking from the surface of the spring.] Water is the best drink for all they say.

AUGUST

How late is it?

BERND

'Tis about four o'clock, I'm wonderin' what keeps Rose with our evenin' meal. [He raises his scythe and looks at the blade. AUGUST does the same.] Will you have to sharpen? Mine will do a bit longer.

AUGUST

I can try it this way a while longer.

BERND

[Throws himself on the grass under the pear tree.] You'd better come an' sit down by me. An' if, maybe, you got your Testament with you, we might refresh ourselves with the Good Word.

AUGUST

[Sitting down exhausted and glad to be free.] All I say is: Thanks and praise be to the Lord.

BERND

D'you see, August, I said to you then: Let her be! The lass will find her own way! Now she's come to her senses! In the old days, before your time, often an' often I worried about her. A kind o' stubbornness used to come over her from time to time. An' 'twas always best to let her be!—Sometimes it seemed, as God lives, as if the lass was runnin' against a wall—a strong wall that nobody else couldn't see, an' as if she had to grope her way around it first.

AUGUST

What got into her that day ... I'm thankin' God on my knees ... but that day I didn't know what to make of it! Suddenly she—how that came about ...? No, I can't see the rights of it to this day.

BERND

An' how different did she act this time when we went down to the magistrate.

AUGUST

I'm glad that it's no longer Squire Flamm.

BERND

Yes, an' this time she didn't say a word an' in four or five minutes everythin' was straight. That's the way she is. 'Tis the way o' women.

AUGUST

D'you think it had somethin' to do with Streckmann? He called out some words behind you that day, an' first he had talked to her.

BERND

It may be so, an' it may not be so. I can't tell you. Times is when one can't get a word out o' her. 'Tis not a good thing. An' on that account I'm glad that she'll be the wife of a man who can influence her an' take that sullen way from her. You two are meant for one another. 'Tis well! The girl needs to be led, an' you have a kind hand an' a gentle one.

AUGUST

When I see that Streckmann, I feel as if I had to look upon the evil one hisself....

BERND

Maybe she thought as the feller meant mischief. He's been a sinner from his childhood on! Many a time his mother complained of it!... It may be! 'Twouldn't surprise no one in him.

AUGUST

When I see that man, I don't seem to be myself no longer. Hot an' cold shudders run down my back, an' I come near to accusin' our Heavenly Father ... because he didn't make me a Samson in strength. Such times, God forgive me, I have evil thoughts. [The whizzing of Streckmann's engine is heard.] There he is!

BERND

Don't take no notice of him.

AUGUST

I won't. An' when 'tis all over, I'll shut myself up in my four walls an' we can lead a quiet life.

BERND

A good, quiet life—God grant it!

AUGUST

And I don't want to know nothin' of the world no more! The whole business fills me with horror! I have taken such a disgust to the world and to men, that I ... Father, I don't hardly know how to say it ... but when the bitterness o' things rises up into my throat—then I laugh! Then I have a feelin' of peace in the thought of death; and I rejoice in it like a child.

A number of thirsty field labourers, an old woman and two young girls, all from the estate of the magistrate FLAMM, come hurriedly across the fields. They are HAHN, HEINZEL, GOLISCH, OLD MRS. GOLISCH, OLD KLEINERT, THE HEAD MAID SERVANT and her ASSISTANT. The men are clad in trousers, the women have their skirts gathered up, shawls over their breasts and manicoloured kerchiefs on their heads.

HAHN

[Thirty years old, bronzed and vigorous.] I'm always the first at the fountain! The rest o' ye c'n run all ye want to! Ye can't never ketch up with me! [He kneels down and leans over the spring.] Eh, but I'd like to jump right in.

THE ASSISTANT MAID

Don't ye dare! We've got a thirst too. [To the HEAD MAID SERVANT.] Have ye a bit of a cup with ye to dip up the water?

HEAD MAID SERVANT

Hold on there! I comes first.

HEINZEL

[Pulls the two women back by the shoulders and thrusts himself between them up to the spring.] First comes the men, then the women folks.

KLEINERT

There's space enough here for us all. Eh, father Bernd? Wish you a good meal.

BERND

Yes, yes. Only no meal's been brought for us to eat yet. We're waitin' for it—waitin' in vain.

GOLISCH

I ... I ... I'm wet enough to be wrung out! My tongue is lyin' in my mouth, dry as a piece o' charred wood.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Water!

KLEINERT

Here 'tis, enough for us all!

They all drink greedily, some immediately from the surface of the mater, some out of their hollowed hands, others out of their hats or out of little cups and bottles. The sounds of swallowing and of deep relieved breathing are clearly audible.

HEINZEL

[Getting up.] Water's a good thing but beer would be a better.

HAHN

An' a bit o' brandy wouldn't come amiss neither.

GOLISCH

August, you might be treatin' us to a quart.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

He'd better invite us all to the weddin'.

GOLISCH

We're all comin' to the weddin'. They says it's to be soon.

HEINZEL

I'm not comin'. What for? To swill cold water? I needn't go no farther than the spring for that. Or for the sake of a little coffee.

HAHN

An' prayin' an' singin' for dessert. An' mebbe, there's no tellin', the parson from Jenkau will come over an' see if we know the ten commandments.

HEINZEL

Or the seven beatitudes on top o' that! That'd be a fine state of affairs. I've long forgot it all.

KLEINERT

You folks had better stop teasin' August. I'm tellin' you now, if I had a girl of my own, I wouldn't be wantin' no better son-in-law. He knows his business! You always know where to find him.

The working men and women have scattered themselves at ease in a semicircle and are eating their evening meal; coffee in tin pots and great wedges of bread from which they cut pieces with their clasp-knives.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

There comes Rosie Bernd around from behind the farm.

GOLISCH

Look an' see, will you, how that girl can jump.

KLEINERT

She can lift a sack o' wheat and drag it to the very top o' the barn. This very mornin' I saw her with a great heavy chest o' drawers on a wheelbarrow, trundlin' it over to the new house. That there girl has got sap an' strength. She'll take care o' her household.

HAHN

If I could get along in the world like August in other respecks, my faith, I wouldn't a bit mind tryin'; I'd see what bein' pious can do for a man.

GOLISCH

You've got to know how to run after good fortune; then you'll get hold of it.

HAHN

When you consider how he used to go around from village to village with a sack full o' tracts; an' how, after that, he used to be writin' letters for people ... an' now, to-day, he's got the finest bit o' property an' can marry the handsomest girl in the county.

ROSE BERND approaches. In a basket she is carrying the evening meal for AUGUST and OLD BERND.

ROSE

A good afternoon to you.

SEVERAL VOICES

Good evenin'!—Good evenin'! Many thanks!

GOLISCH

You're lettin' your sweetheart starve, Rosie.

ROSE

[Merrily unpacking the food.] Don't you worry! He don't starve so easy as that.

HEINZEL

You must be feedin' him well, Rosie, or he'll put on no flesh.

GOLISCH

That's true. He'll be a sight too lean for you, lass.

BERND

Where have you been keepin' yourself so long? We've been waitin' this half hour.

AUGUST

[In a subdued but annoyed voice.] An' now the whole crowd is here again! An' we might have been through this long time.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Let him scold, lass, an' don't mind it.

ROSE

Who's scoldin'? There's no one here to scold. August wouldn't do it in a lifetime.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Even so! But that's right: you shouldn't care nothin' about it.

HEINZEL

'Cause, if he don't scold now, that'll be comin' later.

ROSE

I'm not afraid o' that ever comin'.

GOLISCH

You're mighty friendly, all of a sudden.

ROSE

We was always agreed with each other, wasn't we, August? What are you laughin' at? [She kisses him. Laughter is heard among the people.]

GOLISCH

Well, well, and I thought as I might be climbin' into her window some day.

KLEINERT

If you did, you'd be carrying home your bones in a handkerchief!

THE HEAD MAID SERVANT

[Sarcastically.] O Lordy, Lordy! I'd try it all the same. You can't never tell.

BERND

[Sombre but calm.] Take care what you're sayin', woman.

KLEINERT

Hear what he says, I tell you! Be careful of what you're sayin'. Old Bernd, he don't take no jokes.

ROSE

She's not sayin' anythin' special. Let her be.

KLEINERT

[Lighting his pipe.] He may be lookin' real mild now, but when he lets go, you won't hardly believe it. I know how it used to be when he was manager of the estate; the women folks didn't have much cause for laughin' then. He got the upper hand o' ten like you; there wasn't no gaddin 'about with fellers for them!

HEAD MAID SERVANT

Who's gaddin' about with fellers, I'd like to know!

KLEINERT

You'd better be askin' the machinist, Streckmann,

HEAD MAID SERVANT

[Crimson.] For all I care you can ask the Lord hisself!

[All present laugh.

The machinist STRECKMANN appears. He is dusty and comes straight from the threshing machine. He shows the effects of liquor.

STRECKMANN

Who's talkin' about the machinist Streckmann aroun' here? He's right here! He's standin' right here. Anybody wantin' to pick a quarrel with him? Good day to you all! Hope you're havin' a pleasant meal.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Talk of the devil an' he appears.

STRECKMANN

An' you're the devil's grandmother, I suppose. [He takes off his cockade and wipes the sweat from his forehead.] I tell you people I can't keep up with this: this kind o' work uses a man up skin and bones!—Hello, August! Good day to you, Rosie! Well, father Bernd—Great God, can't anybody answer?

HEINZEL

Let him be! Some people's better off than they can stand.

STRECKMANN

The Lord lets his own people have an easy time. A feller like me works and works and can't get ahead. [He has assumed a reclining position and squeezed himself between HEINZEL and KLEINERT. He now hands his whisky bottle to HEINZEL.] Let her go aroun'.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

You live the best life of us all, Streckmann! What in Heaven's name has you to complain about? You drinks your drinks and makes three times over what we do—all for standin' by the machine a bit.

STRECKMANN

What I want is work for my brain. I got a head on me. That's what you bran-heads can't understand. Of course! What does an old woman know about that! An', anyhow—the trouble I got....

GOLISCH

Lord, Streckmann and trouble—

STRECKMANN

More than enough!—there's somethin' that sticks into me, I can tell you—sticks into my belly and into my heart. I feel so rotten bad I'd like to be doin' somethin' real crazy. [To the ASSISTANT MAID.] Lass, shall I lie down with you?

ASSISTANT MAID

I'll bang you over the head with a whetstone!

GOLISCH

That's just what's troublin' him; everythin' gets black before his eyes, he don't see nothin' more, an' sudden like, he's lyin' abed with a lass.

[Loud laughter.

STRECKMANN

Yon can laugh, ye ragamuffins, laugh all ye want to! It's no laughin' matter with me, I can tell ye. [Blustering:] I'll let the machine squeeze off one of my arms! Or ye can run the piston through me if ye want to! Kill me, for all I care.

HAHN

Or mebbe you'd like to set a barn afire.

STRECKMANN

By God! There's fire enough inside of me. August there, he's a happy man ...

AUGUST

Whether I'm happy or whether I'm unhappy, that don't concern no one in this world.

STRECKMANN

What am I doin' to you? Can't you be sociable with a feller?

AUGUST

I'll look for my society elsewhere.

STRECKMANN

[Looks at him long with smouldering hatred; represses his rage and grasps the whisky bottle which has been handed back to him.] Give it to me! A feller's got to drown his sorrow!—[To ROSE.] You needn't be lookin' at me; a bargain's a bargain. [He gets up.] I'm goin'!—I don't want to come between you.

ROSE

You can go or you can stay for all I care.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

[Calling STRECKMANN back.] Look here, Streckmann, what was that happened t'other day? About three weeks ago at the threshin' machine?...

[Men and women burst into laughter.

STRECKMANN

That's all over. I don't know nothin' about that.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

An' yet, you swore by all that was good and holy....

KLEINERT

You people stop your gossippin'.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

He needn't be talkin' so big all the time.

STRECKMANN

[Comes back.] And I tell you what I says, that I puts through. I'll be damned if I don't! Let it go at that. I don't say no more.

[Exit.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH It's done just as easy without talkin'.

STRECKMANN

[Comes back, is about to speak out, but restrains himself.] Never mind! I don't walk into no such trap! But if you want to know exactly what it's all about, ask August there or father Bernd.

BERND

What's all this about? What's this we're supposed to know?

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

'Twas that time you went to the magistrate's, 'twas that time! An' didn't Streckmann pass you on the road an' didn't he cry out somethin' after ye?

KLEINERT

It's about time for you to be stoppin'.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

An' why, I'd like to know? That's all nothin' but a joke ... People wonders if that there time you all agreed, or if Rosie wasn't so willin' to join in!

BERND

God Almighty forgive you all for your sins! What I wants to ask you is this: Why can't the whole crowd o' you leave us in peace? Or is it that we ever did any harm to any o' ye?

GOLISCH

An' we're not doin' any wrong neither.

ROSE

An' whether I was willin' on that day or not—you needn't give yourself no concern about that! I'm willin' now an' that settles it,

KLEINERT

That's the right way, Rosie!

AUGUST

[Who has hitherto been reading, with apparent absorption, in his New Testament, now closes the book and arises.] Come, father, let's go to work.

HAHN

That takes it out o' you more than pastin' prayer books together or stirrin' the paste in your pot!

HEINZEL

And how do you think he'll feel after the weddin'? A girl like Rosie—she makes demands!

[Laughter.

STRECKMANN

[Also laughing.] Gee ...! I almost said somethin' I oughtn't to!—[He steps back among the people.] I'll give you a riddle to guess. Shall I? Still waters run deep! 'Tis bad. You mustn't taste blood—no, no! The thirst only gets worse an' worse—that's all.

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

What's that? Where did you get the taste o' blood?

BERND

I suppose he means the taste for whisky!

STRECKMANN

I'm goin' my way! Good-bye! I'm a good feller! Good-bye, father Bernd! Good-bye, August! Good-bye, Rosie! [To AUGUST.] What's wrong?—August, don't be showin' off. 'Tis all well! I'm willin'! You'll not see me again! But you—you've got reason enough to be grateful to me. You've always been an underhanded kind o' crittur! But I've given my consent to let things be! I've given my consent an' everything can go smoothly.

[STRECKMANN goes.

ROSE

[With violent energy.] Let him talk, August; pay no attention to him.

KLEINERT

Flamm is comin'! [He looks at his watch.] 'Tis over half an hour!

[The whistle of the engine is heard.

HAHN

[During the general stir.] Forward, Prussians! It's misery whistlin' for us!

The workingmen and the maids disappear swiftly with their scythes. ROSE, OLD BERND and AUGUST remain alone on the scene.

BERND

All the evil on earth seems broken loose here' What's all that Streckmann is sayin'? Tell me, Rose, do you understand it?

ROSE

No, an' I've got better things to be thinkin' of! [She gives AUGUST a friendly nudge on the head.] Isn't it so, August? We have no time for nonsense! We have to hurry these comin' six weeks.

[She gathers up the remnants of the meal in her basket.

AUGUST

Come over to us a bit later.

ROSE

I must wash and iron and sew buttonholes. 'Tis almost time now.

BERND

We'll be comin' to our supper after seven.

[Exit.

AUGUST

[Before he goes, earnestly:] Do you care for me, Rosie?

ROSE

Yes, I do care for you.

AUGUST disappears and ROSE is left alone. The hum of the threshing machine is heard as well as the muttering of thunder on the horizon. After ROSE has replaced bread, butter, the coffee pots and cups into her basket, she straightens herself up and seems to become aware of something in the distance which attracts her and holds her captive. With sudden, determination, she snatches up the head kerchief that has fallen to the ground and hurries off. Before she has disappeared from view, however, FLAMM becomes visible on the scene and calls to her.

FLAMM

Rose! Wait there! Confound it all! [Rose stands still with her face turned away.] You are to give me a drink! I suppose I'm worth a draught of water.

ROSE

There's plenty of water here.

FLAMM

I see. I'm not blind. But I don't care to drink like the beasts. Have you no cups in your basket? [ROSE pushes the cover of her basket aside.] Well, then! You even have a cup of Bunzlauer ware! I like to drink out of that best of all. [She hands him the cup, still with averted face.] I beg your pardon. You might practise a little politeness! I suppose you'll have to force yourself to it this one more time. [ROSE walks over to the spring, rinses the cup, fills it with water, sets it down next to the spring and then returns to her basket. She picks the latter up and waits with her back to FLAMM.] No, Rosie—that won't do at all. You might get rid of some gaol bird in that fashion. I don't know the habits of such persons very exactly. As things are, I'm still the magistrate Flamm. Am I going to get a drink or am I not? Well: One ... two ... three ... and ... there's an end to this, I' beg for some decency! No more nonsense! [ROSE has returned to the spring, has picked up the cup and now holds it out to FLAMM, still refusing to look at him.] So! Higher, though, a little higher! I can't get at it yet!

ROSE

But you must hold it.

FLAMM

How can I drink this way?

ROSE

[Amused against her will, turns her face to him.] Oh, but....

FLAMM

That's better already!—That's good!—[Apparently unintentionally and as if merely to hold the cup, he puts his own hands upon ROSE'S which support it. His mouth at the rim he lowers himself more and more—until he kneels on one knee.] So! Thank you, Rosie! Now you can let me go.

ROSE

[Making gentle efforts to disengage herself.] Oh, no! Do let me be, Mr. Flamm!

FLAMM

Is that so? You think, then, that I ought to let you be? Now, when at last I've succeeded in catching you! No, lassie,'tis not so easy as that. It won't do and you needn't ask it of me. You needn't wear yourself out! You can't escape me! First of all, look me square in the eyes once more! I haven't changed! I know; I know about—everything! I've had 'a talk with the magistrate Steckel about your having agreed to everything now. I thank God that I'm no longer the official who attends to the matchmaking! Another man takes care of the man-traps now. I even know the date of the funeral ... I'll be ... I meant the wedding, of course. And in addition, I've talked to myself, too. Rose, 'tis a hard nut! I hope we won't break our teeth on it!

ROSE

I dare not stand this way with you here.

FLAMM

You must. Whether you may or not—I don't care! In fact I don't give a tinker's damn! If this thing is really decreed in the council of God, as the song has it—I want a dismissal in all due form: I refuse to be just coolly shunted off.—Rose, is there anything in the past for which I need to ask your forgiveness?

ROSE

[Touched, shakes her head with energy.] Nothin', nothin' at all, Mr. Flamm.

FLAMM

No? Is that honest? [ROSE nods a hearty affirmation.] Well, I'm glad of that, at least! I hoped it would be so. Then at least we can keep something that's harmonious in our memories. Ah, Rose, it was a good, good time....

ROSE

An' you must go back to your wife....

FLAMM

A good time! And it rushes past ... past! And what do we keep of it?

ROSE

You must be kind, very kind to your wife, Mr. Flamm. She's an angel; 'tis she that saved me!

FLAMM

Come, let's sit down under the pear tree! Very well. But why talk of it? I'm always kind to my wife. Our relations are the very friendliest. Come, Rose! Tell me all about that. What d'you mean by that? Saved? What did she save you from, Rose? I'd naturally like to know that! What was the matter with you? Mother did drop all sorts of hints; but I was no wiser for them.

ROSE

Mr. Christopher ... Mr. Flamm! I can't sit down here. An' it don't matter! It can't lead to anythin'. 'Tis all over an' past now—well—'tis all dead an' gone. I know God will forgive me the sin. An' He won't lay it up against the poor, innocent child neither. He's too merciful to do that!

FLAMM

[Alluding to the hum of the threshing machine which grows louder and louder.] That confounded buzzing all the time!—What did you say, Rose? Sit down just a moment. I won't harm you; I won't even touch you! I give you my word, Rose. Have some confidence in me! I want you to speak out—to tell what's on your heart!

ROSE

I don't know ... there's ... there's just nothin' more to say! When once I'm married, you can go an' ask the good missis. Maybe she'll tell you then what was the trouble with me. I haven't told August nothin' either. I know he's good. I'm not afraid o' that. He's soft o' heart an' a good Christian man. An' now: Good-bye, Christie—keep well.—We've a long life ahead of us now an', maybe, we can be reel faithful an' do penance an' work hard an' pay off the debt.

FLAMM

[Holding ROSE'S hand fast in his.] Rose, stay one moment. It's all right and I must be satisfied. I'm not coming to your wedding, God knows! But even if I don't come to your wedding, still I admit that you're right.—But, oh, lass, I've loved you so truly, so honestly.... I can never tell you how much! And it's been, upon my word, as far back as I can think.—You had crept into my heart even in the old days when you were a child and were always so honest ... so frank about a thousand little things—so straight and true, however things were. No sneakiness, no subterfuge—whatever the consequences. I've known women enough in Tarant and in Eberswalde at the agricultural college and in the army, and I was usually lucky with them—ridiculously so. And yet I never knew true happiness except through you.

ROSE

Oh, Christie, I've loved you too!

FLAMM

Why you've been in love with me ever since you were a little thing! Why you used to make eyes at me.... Do you believe you'll ever think of it? And think of the mad, old sinner Flamm?

ROSE

That I will. I have a pledge....

FLAMM

You mean the ring with the bit of stone? And won't you come to our house some time?

ROSE

No, that can't be. That would cut a body too sorely to the heart. That wouldn't be nothin' but double sufferin' an' misery! There's got to be an end to it all. I'll bury myself in the house! There's work an' moil enough for two! 'Tis a new life that's beginnin' an' we mustn't look back on the old life. There's nothin' but sorrow an' heart's need on this earth; we has to wait for a better place.

FLAMM

And so this is to be our last farewell, Rose?

ROSE

Father an' August will be wonderin' now.

FLAMM

And if the little fishes in the river were to stand on their tails in wonderment and the bitterns on the trees did the same—I wouldn't lose one second—now! So it's to be all, all over and done with? And you won't even come to see mother?

ROSE

[Shaking her head.] I can't look her in the face no more! Maybe some day! Maybe in ten years or so! Maybe all this'll be conquered then. Good-bye, Mr. Christie! Good-bye, Mr. Flamm!

FLAMM

So be it. But, lass, I tell you, if it weren't for mother ... now ... even now ... I wouldn't fool around much ... I wouldn't give you much time....

ROSE

Yes, if it wasn't for that little word "if"! If August wasn't livin', an' father wasn't—who knows what I'd do. I'd like to go out into the wide world.

FLAMM

And I with you, Rose! Well, then we know what's in our hearts.—And now you might give me your hand once more.... [He presses her hand and their glances melt hotly into each other in this last farewell.] So it is. What was to be, must be! I suppose we must leave each other now.

[He turns resolutely and walks away with firm steps and without looking back.

ROSE [Looking after him, mastering herself, with tense volition:] What must be, must be!—'tis well now!—

[She put back the can into her basket and is about to walk in the opposite direction.

STRECKMANN appears.

STRECKMANN

[With pale, contorted face, creeping and basely hesitant in demeanour.] Rose! Rose Bernd! D'you hear? That was that rascally Flamm again! If ever I gets my hand on him ... I'll smash every bone in his carcase!—What's up? What did he want again! But I'm tellin' you this: things don't go that way! I won't bear it! One man is as good as another! I won't let nobody turn me off this way!

ROSE

What d'you say? Who are you anyhow?

STRECKMANN

Who am I? Damn it, you know that well enough!

ROSE

Who are you? Where did I ever see you?

STRECKMANN

Me? Where you saw me? You? You can look for somebody else to play your monkey tricks on!

ROSE

What do you want? What are you? What business has you with me?

STRECKMANN

What business? What I wants? Nothin' much, y'understand? God ... don't scream so!

ROSE

I'll call for all the world to come if you don't get out o' my way this minute!

STRECKMANN

Think o' the cherry tree! Think o' the crucifix....

ROSE

Who are you! Lies! Lies! What do you want with me? Either you get away from here straightway ... or I'll cry out for some one to come an' help me!

STRECKMANN

Girl, you've lost your senses!

ROSE

Then I won't have to drag 'em around with me no longer! Who are you! Lies! You've seen nothin'! I'll cry out! I'll shriek as long as I has breath in my body, if you don't go this very second.

STRECKMANN

[Frightened.] I'm goin', Rosie. It's all right.

ROSE

But now! This minute! Y'understand!

STRECKMANN

Right away! For all I care! An' why not? [He makes a farcical gesture as though avoiding a shower of rain.]

ROSE

[Half-mad with rage and scorn.] There he runs! The vile scoundrel! When you see a fellow like that from behind, you see the best side o' him! Fy, I says! He's all smooth an' spruce on the outside, an' his innards rotten as dirt. A body could die o' disgust!

STRECKMANN

[Turns, pale and sinister.] Ah ...! An' is that so indeed! You don't never mean it!... 'Tis not very appetisin' the way you makes it out. Why was you so hot after it, then?

ROSE

I? Hot after you?

STRECKMANN

Maybe you've forgotten already?

ROSE

Scoundrel!

STRECKMANN

Maybe I am.

ROSE

Scoundrel! Ruffian! Why do you go sniffin' around me now! Who are you? What has I done? You stuck to my heels! You followed me an' baited me an' snapped at me ... Rascal ... worse'n a dog ...

STRECKMANN

'Twas you that ran after me!

ROSE

What ...?

STRECKMANN

You came to my house an' made things hot for me!

ROSE

An' you ...

STRECKMANN

Well, what?

ROSE

An' you? An' you?

STRECKMANN

Well, I don't refuse a good thing that's offered.

ROSE

Streckmann! You has to die some day! D'you hear? Think o' your last hour! You has to stand before your Judge some day! I ran to you in the awful terror o' my heart! An' I begged you for the love o' God not to put nothin' between me an' August. I crept on my knees before you—an' you say, you, I ran after you! What was it truly? You committed a crime—a crime against me! An' that's worse'n a scoundrel's trick! 'Twas a crime—doubly and trebly! An' the Lord'll bring it home to you!

STRECKMANN

Listen to that! I'll take my chances!

ROSE

Is that what you say? You'll take your chances in that court? Then a person can spit in your face!

STRECKMANN

Think o' the cherry tree! Think o' the crucifix!

ROSE

An' you swore to me that you'd never mention it again! You swore by all that's holy. You put that hand o' yours on the cross, an' by the cross you swore—an' now you're beginnin' to persecute me again! What do you want?

STRECKMANN

I'm as good as Flamm. An' I don't want no more goin's on between you an' him!

ROSE

I'll jump into his bed, scoundrel! An' it wouldn't concern you that much!

STRECKMANN

Well, we'll see what'll be the end of all that!

ROSE

What? 'Tis violence that you did to me! You confused me! You broke me down! You pounced on me like a wild beast! I know! I tried to get out by the door! An' you took hold an' you rent my bodice an' my skirt! I bled! I might ha' gotten out by the door! Then you shot the latch! That's a crime, a crime! An' I'll denounce....

BERND and AUGUST appear on the scene. After them KLEINERT and GOLISCH and the other field hands.

BERND

[Close to STRECKMANN.] What's all this? What did you do to my lass?

AUGUST

[Pulls BERND back and thrusts himself forward.] 'Tis my place, father. What did you do to Rosie?

STRECKMANN

Nothin'!

BERND

[Coming forward again.] What did you do to the lass?

STRECKMANN

Nothin'!

AUGUST

[Approaching STRECKMANN once more.] You'll tell us now what you did to her!

STRECKMANN

Nothin'! The devil! I say nothin'!

AUGUST

You'll either be tellin' us now what you did to her—or ...

STRECKMANN

Or? Well, what? What about "or"?—Hands off!... Take your hands from my throat!!

KLEINERT

[Trying to separate them.] Hold on, now.

STRECKMANN

Hands off, I tell you!

BERND

You'll have to take the consequences now! Either ...

AUGUST

What did you do to the girl?

STRECKMANN

[Backing, in sudden fright, toward the pear tree, cries out:] Help!

AUGUST

What did you do to the girl? Answer me that! I got to know that!

[He has freed himself and faces STRECKMANN.

STRECKMANN

[Lifts his arm and strikes AUGUST full in the face.] There's my answer! That's what I did!

KLEINERT

Streckmann!

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Catch hold o' August! He's fallin'!

HEAD MAID

[Supports the falling man.] August!

BERND

[Paying no attention to AUGUST, but addressing STRECKMANN:] You'll have to account for this! It'll be brought home to you!

STRECKMANN

What? On account o' that there wench that's common to anybody as wants her....

[Withdraws.

BERND

What was that he said ...?

KLEINERT

[Who is helping the MAID, HAHN, GOLISCH and MRS. GOLISCH support AUGUST.] His eye is out!

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

Father Bernd, August didn't fare so very well this time....

KLEINERT

'Tis an evil wooin' that he has!

BERND

What? How? Christ In Heaven! [He goes to him.] August!

AUGUST

My left eye hurts that bad!

BERND

Rose, bring some water!

OLD MRS. GOLISCH

'Tis a misfortune.

BERND

Rose, fetch some water! D'you hear me?

GOLISCH

That'll mean a good year o' prison!

ROSE

[Suddenly awakening from a dazed condition.] He says ... he says ... What's the meanin' o' ... Didn't I get a doll o' Christmas....

THE MAID

[To ROSE.] Are you asleep?

ROSE

... There's no tellin' what ... No, lass: it can't be done! Such things don't come to good! ... Mebbe a girl can't do without a mother.

THE CURTAIN FALLS



THE FOURTH ACT

The same room in FLAMM'S house as in the second act. It is a Saturday afternoon toward the beginning of September. FLAMM is sitting over his accounts at the roller-top desk. Not far from the door to the hall stands STRECKMANN.

FLAMM

According to this there is due you the sum of twelve pounds, ten shillings, sixpence.

STRECKMANN

Yes, Mr. Flamm.

FLAMM

What was wrong with the machine? You stopped working one forenoon?

STRECKMANN

I had a summons to appear in the county court that day. There wasn't nothin' wrong with the machine.

FLAMM

Was that in connection with the trouble about ... Keil?

STRECKMANN

Yes. An' besides that Bernd sued me for slanderin' his daughter.

FLAMM

[Has taken money from a special pigeon hole and counts it out on the large table.] Here are twelve pounds and eleven shillings. So you owe me sixpence.

STRECKMANN

[Pockets the money and gives FLAMM a small coin.] An' so I'm to tell the head bailiff that by the end o' December you'll be ready for me again.

FLAMM

Yes, I want you for two days. Say, by the beginning of December. I'd like to empty the big barn at that time.

STRECKMANN

By the beginnin' o' December. All right, Mr. Flamm. Good-bye.

FLAMM

Good-bye, Streckmann. Tell me, though, what's going to be the outcome of that affair?

STRECKMANN

[Stops and shrugs his shoulders.] It isn't goin' to be much of an outcome for me!

FLAMM

Why?

STRECKMANN

I suppose I'll have to suffer for it.

FLAMM

What consequences a little thing will sometimes have!—How did it happen that you quarreled?

STRECKMANN

I can't say as I can remember clearly. That day—I must ha' been off my head—but the truth is I just can't get it straight how it did happen.

FLAMM

The bookbinder is known to be a very peaceable man.

STRECKMANN

An' yet he's always quarrelin' with me! But the thing's just gone from me.—All I know is that they fell on me just like hungry wolves! I thought they was tryin' to kill me right there! If I hadn't been thinkin' that, my hand wouldn't ha' slipped the way it did.

FLAMM

And the man's eye couldn't—be saved?

STRECKMANN

No, an' it makes a feller feel sorry. But ... there's nothin' to be done. The misfortune isn't on my conscience.

FLAMM

A thing of that kind is bad enough in itself. And when the courts take a hand in it, that only makes it worse. I'm especially sorry for the girl.

STRECKMANN

Yes; I'm thin an' wasted with the misery of it. It's gone straight to my heart. I tell you, your honour, I don't know what it is to sleep no more. I haven't got nothin' against August really. But, as I said, I just can't account for it.

FLAMM

You ought to go over and see Bernd some day. If you insulted his daughter and weren't in a clear state of mind, you could simply retract what you said.

STRECKMANN

That's none o' my business. That's his'n. Of course, if he knew what'll come out—he'd take back his accusation. Somebody else ought to tell him. He's not doin' the girl no service by it. That's how things is. Good-bye, your honour.

FLAMM

Good-bye.

STRECKMANN leaves the room.

FLAMM [Excitedly, to himself.] If one could only get at the throat of a creature like that!

MRS. FLAMM is wheeled in by a maid from FLAMM'S den.

MRS. FLAMM

What are you muttering about again?—[At a gesture from her the maid retires.]—Did you have any annoyance?

FLAMM

Oh, yes; a little.

MRS. FLAMM

Wasn't that Streckmann?

FLAMM

The handsome Streckmann. Yes, that was the handsome Streckmann.

MRS. FLAMM

How is that affair getting on now, Christie? Did you talk about Keil?

FLAMM

[Scribbling.] Oh, pshaw! My head is full of figures.

MRS. FLAMM

Do I disturb you, Christie?

FLAMM

No; only you must keep quiet.

MRS. FLAMM

If I can't do anything else—you can be sure I can do that.

[Silence.]

FLAMM

[Bursting out.] I'll be damned and double damned! There are times when one would like to take a gun and simply shoot down a scoundrel like that! There'd be no trouble about taking that on one's conscience.

MRS. FLAMM

But, Christie, you really frighten me.

FLAMM

It isn't my fault! I'm frightened myself!—I tell you, mother, that man is so low, so rotten with evil ... I tell you ... at least he has spells when he's that way ... that a man like myself, who is no saint either, feels as if his very bowels were turning in him! There's no end to that kind of corruption. A man may think he knows life inside out, that he's digested some pretty tough bits himself—but things like that—crimes—I tell you, one never gets beyond the elements in that kind of knowledge!

MRS. FLAMM

What has roused you so again?

FLAMM

[Writing again.] Oh, I'm only speaking in general.

MRS. FLAMM

I thought it was somehow connected with Streckmann. Because, Christie, I can't rid myself of the thought of that affair. And when it's convenient to you some day, I'd like to have a good talk with you about it!

FLAMM

With me? How does Streckmann concern me?

MRS. FLAMM

Not Streckmann exactly—not the man. But surely old Bernd and Rose. As far as the girl is concerned, 'tis bitter earnest for her—the whole thing! And if I weren't tied down here as I am, I would have gone over to see her long ago. She's never seen here any more.

FLAMM

You ... you want to go and see Rose? What do you want of her?

MRS. FLAMM

But, don't you see, Christie—you understand that—she isn't exactly the first comer! I ought to see about setting her affairs to rights a bit!

FLAMM

Ah well, mother! Do what you think is your duty. I hardly think that you'll accomplish much for the girl.

MRS. FLAMM

How is that, Christie? What do you mean?

FLAMM

One shouldn't mix up into other people's affairs. All you get for your pains is ingratitude and worry.

MRS. FLAMM

Even so! We can bear the worry, an' ingratitude—that's what you expect in this world. An' as far as Rose Bernd is concerned, I always felt as if she were more than half my own child. You see, Christie, as far as I can think back—when father was still chief forester—her mother already came to wash for us. Afterward, in the churchyard, at our little Kurt's grave—I see the girl standin' as clear as if it was to-day, even though I was myself more dead than alive. Except you an' me, I can tell you that, nobody was as inconsolable as the girl.

FLAMM

Do as you please, as far as I'm concerned! But what are your intentions exactly? I can't think what you're after, child!

MRS. FLAMM

First, I'm going to be real curious now.

FLAMM

What about?

MRS. FLAMM

Oh, about nothing you can describe exactly! You know, usually, I don't interfere in your affairs. But now ... I'd like real well to know ... what's come over you this while past?

FLAMM

Over me? I thought you were talking about Rose Bernd.

MRS. FLAMM

But now I'm talking about you, you see.

FLAMM

You can spare yourself the trouble, mother. My affairs are no concern of yours.

MRS. FLAMM

You say that! 'Tis easily said. But if a person sits still as I have to do and sees a man growing more an' more restless, an' unable to sleep o' nights, an' hears him sighin' an' sighin', and that man happens to be your own husband—why, you have all kinds of thoughts come over you!

FLAMM

Now, mother, you've gone off your head entirely. You seem to want to make me look utterly foolish! I sigh! Am I such an imbecile? I'm not a lovelorn swain.

MRS. FLAMM

No, Christie, you can't escape me that way!

FLAMM

Mother, what are you trying to do? Do you want, simply, to be tiresome, to bore me? Eh? Or make the house too disagreeable to stay in? Is that your intention? If so, you're going about it the best way possible.

MRS. FLAMM

I don't care what you say; you're keeping something secret!

FLAMM

[Shrugging his shoulders.] Do you think so?—Well, perhaps I am keeping something from you! Suppose it is so, mother.... You know me.... You know my nature in that respect.... The whole world could turn upside down and not get that much [he snaps his fingers] out of me! As for annoyance ... everyone has his share of it in this world! Yesterday I had to dismiss one of the brewers; day before yesterday I had to send a distiller to the devil. And, all in all, apart from such incidents, the kind of life one has to live here is really flat and unprofitable enough to make any decent individual as cross as two sticks.

MRS. FLAMM

Why don't you seek company? Drive in to town!

FLAMM

Oh, yes, to sit in the inn playing at cards with a crowd of Philistines or to be stilted with his honour, the prefect of the county! God forbid! I have enough of that nonsense! It couldn't tempt me out of the house! If it weren't for the bit of hunting a man could do—if one couldn't shoulder one's gun occasionally, one would be tempted to run away to sea.

MRS. FLAMM

Well, you see! There you are! That's what I say! You've just changed entirely! Till two, three months ago, you was as merry as the day's long; you shot birds an' stuffed them, increased your botanical collection, hunted birds' eggs—and sang the livelong day! 'Twas a joy to see you! An' now, suddenly, you're like another person.

FLAMM

If only we had been able to keep Kurt!

MRS. FLAMM

How would it be if we adopted a child?

FLAMM

All of a sudden? No, mother. I don't care about it now. Before, you couldn't make up your mind to it; now I've passed that stage too.

MRS. FLAMM

'Tis easily said: Take a child into the house! First of all it seemed to me like betraying Kurt ... yes, like a regular betrayal ... that's what the very thought of It seemed to me. I felt—how shall I say it?—as if we were putting the child away from us utterly—out of the house, out of his little room an' his little bed, an', last of all, out of our hearts.—But the main thing was this: Where can you get a child in whom you can hope to have some joy?—But let that rest where it is. Let's go back to Rose once more!—Do you know how it is with her, Christopher?

FLAMM

Oh, well! Of course; why not? Streckmann has cast a slur upon her conduct and old Bernd won't suffer that! 'Tis folly, to be sure, to bring suit in such a matter.—Because it is the woman who has to bear the brunt of it in the end.

MRS. FLAMM

I wrote a couple of letters to Rose and asked the lass to come here. In her situation, Christopher, she may really not know what to do nor where to turn.

FLAMM

Why do you think so?

MRS. FLAMM

Because Streckmann is right!

FLAMM

[Taken aback and with a show of stupidity.] What, mother? You must express yourself more clearly.

MRS. FLAMM

Now, Christie, don't let your temper get the better of you again! I've kept the truth from you till now because I know you're a bit harsh in such matters. You remember the little maid that you put straight out o' the house, and the trunk-maker to whom you gave a beating! Now this lass o' ours made a confession to me long ago—maybe eight weeks. An' we have to consider that 'tis not only Rose that's to be considered now, but ... a second being ... the one that's on the way. Did you understand me? Did you?

FLAMM

[With self-repression.] No! Not entirely, mother, I must say frankly. I've got a kind of a ... just to-day ... it comes over me ... the blood, you know ... it seems to go to my head suddenly, once in a while. It's like a ... it's horrible, too ... like an attack of dizziness! I suppose I'll have to ... at least, I think I'll have to take the air a bit. But it's nothing of importance, mother. So don't worry.

MRS. FLAMM

[Looking at him through her spectacles.] And where do you want to go with your cartridge belt?

FLAMM

Nowhere! What did I want to do with the cartridge belt? [He hurls the belt aside which he has involuntarily picked up.] One learns nothing ... is kept in the dark about everything! And then a point comes where one suddenly feels blind and stupid ... and a stranger ... an utter stranger in this world.

MRS. FLAMM

[Suspiciously.] Will you tell me, Christie, the meanin' of all this?

FLAMM

It hasn't any, mother—not the slightest ... none at all, in fact. And I'm quite clear in my head again, too—quite! Only now and then a feeling comes over me, a kind of terror, all of a sudden, I don't know how ... and I feel as if there were no solid footing under me any longer, and as if I were going to crash through and break my neck.

MRS. FLAMM

'Tis strange things you are saying to-day, Christie. [A knocking is heard at the door.] Who's knocking there? Come in!

AUGUST

[Still behind the scenes.] 'Tis only me, Mrs. Flamm.

FLAMM withdraws rapidly into his den.

MRS. FLAMM

Oh, 'tis you, Mr. Keil. Just step right in.

AUGUST KEIL appears on the scene. He is paler than formerly, more emaciated and wears dark glasses. His left eye is hidden by a black patch.

AUGUST

I have come, Mrs. Flamm, to bring Rose's excuses to you. Good-day, Mrs. Flamm.

MRS. FLAMM

Good-day to you, Mr. Keil.

AUGUST

My betrothed had to go to the county court to-day, or she would ha' come herself. But she'll be comin' in this evenin'.

MRS. FLAMM

I'm real pleased to get a chance to see you. How are you getting on? Sit down.

AUGUST

God's ways are mysterious! An' when His hand rests heavy on us, we mustn't complain. On the contrary, we must rejoice. An' I tell you, Mrs. Flamm, that's almost the way I'm feelin' nowadays. I'm content. The worse things gets, the gladder I am. 'Tis layin' up more an' more treasures in heaven.

MRS. FLAMM

[Taking a deep and difficult breath.] I trust you are right, Mr. Keil.—Did Rose get my letters?

AUGUST

She gave them to me to read. An' I told her, it wouldn't do—that she'd have to go to see you now.

MRS. FLAMM

I must tell you, Keil, I'm surprised that, after all these recent happenin's, she never once found her way here. She knows that she'll find sympathy here.

AUGUST

She's been reel afraid o' people recently. An', Mrs. Flamm, if you'll permit me to say so, you mustn't take it ill. First of all she had her hands full with tendin' to me. I was so in need o' care—an' she did a good work by me! An' then, since that man slandered her so terrible, she scarce dared go out o' the room.

MRS. FLAMM

I don't take offence, Keil. Oh, no! But how is she otherwise? An' what does she do?

AUGUST

'Tis hard to say, that's certain. To-day, for instance, when she had to go to court at eleven o'clock—'twas a regular dance she led us! She talked so strange, Mrs. Flamm, 'twas enough to scare a body out o' his wits.—First of all she didn't want to be goin' at all; next she thought she wanted to take me with her. In the end she was gone like a flash an' cried out to me that I wasn't to follow. Times she kept weepin' all day!—Naturally, a man has his thoughts.

MRS. FLAMM

What kind o' thoughts?

AUGUST

About several things.—Firstly, this mishap that came to me! She spoke of it to me many a time. That's cut her straight to the heart! An' about father Bernd an' that he has taken that business o' Streckmann so serious.

MRS. FLAMM

We're all alone here, Mr. Keil. Why shouldn't we speak openly for once. Did it never occur to you ... I mean about this Streckmann matter ... to you or, maybe to father Bernd—that there might be some truth in it?

AUGUST

I don't let myself have no thoughts about that.

MRS. FLAMM

That's right! I don't blame you for that in the least. There are times in life when one can't do better than stick one's head in the sand like an ostrich. But that isn't right for a father!

AUGUST

Well, Mrs. Flamm, as far as old Bernd goes, his mind is as far as the sky from any suspicion that somethin' mightn't be quite right. His conviction's as firm as a rock. He'd let you chop off his hands for it. Nobody wouldn't believe how strictly he thinks about things o' that kind. His honour was there too an' tried to persuade him to withdraw his charge....

MRS. FLAMM

[Excitedly.] Who was there?

AUGUST

His honour, Mr. Flamm.

MRS. FLAMM

My husband?

AUGUST

Yes! He talked to him a long time. You see, as for me—I've lost an eye, to be sure—but I don't care to have Streckmann punished. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord. But father—he can't be persuaded to think peaceably about this matter. Ask anythin' o' me, says he, but not that!

MRS. FLAMM

You say my husband went to see old Bernd?

AUGUST

Yes, that time he got the summons.

MRS. FLAMM

What kind o' summons was that?

AUGUST

To appear before the examining magistrate.

MRS. FLAMM

[With growing excitement.] Who? Old Bernd?

AUGUST

No; Mr. Flamm.

MRS. FLAMM

Was my husband examined too? What did he have to do with the affair?

AUGUST

Yes, he was examined too.

MRS. FLAMM

[Deeply affected.] Is that so? That's news to me! I didn't know about that. Nor that Christie went to see old Bernd!... I wonder where my smellin' bottle is?—No, August, you might as well go home now. I'm a bit ... I don't know what to call it! An' any special advice I can't give you, the way it all turns out. There's something that's gone through an' through me. Go home an' wait to see how everything goes. But if you love the lass truly, then ... look at me: I could tell you a tale! If a body is made that way: whether 'tis a man that the women run after, or a woman that all the men are mad about—then there's nothin' to do but just to suffer an' suffer and be patient!—I've lived that way twelve long years. [She pats her hand to her eyes and peers through her fingers.] An' if I want to see things at all, I have to see them from behind my hands.

AUGUST

I can't never believe that, Mrs. Flamm.

MRS. FLAMM

Whether you believe me or not. Life don't ask us if we want to believe things. An' I feel exactly like you: I can't hardly realise it either. But we have to see how we can reconcile ourselves to it—I made a promise to Rose! 'Tis easy promisin' an' hard keepin' the promise sometimes in this world. But I'll do the best in my power.—Good-bye—I can't expect you to ... God must take pity on us. That's all.

AUGUST, deeply moved, grasps the hand which MRS. FLAMM offers him and withdraws in silence.

MRS. FLAMM leans her head far back and, lost in thought, looks up. She sighs twice deeply and with difficulty. FLAMM enters, very pale, looks sidewise at his wife and begins to whistle softly. He opens the book case and pretends to be eagerly hunting for something._

MRS. FLAMM

Yes, yes; there it is—you whistle everything down the wind! But this ... this ... I wouldn't ha' thought you capable of.

FLAMM swings around, falls silent, and looks straight at her. He lifts both hands slightly and shrugs his shoulders very high. Then, he relaxes all his muscles and gazes simply and without embarrassment—thoughtfully rather than shamefacedly—at the floor.

MRS. FLAMM

You men take these things very lightly! What's to happen now?

FLAMM

[Repeating the same gesture but less pronouncedly.] That's what I don't know.—I want to be quite calm now. I should like to tell you how that came about. It may be that you will be able to judge me less harshly then. If not ... why, then I should be very sorry for myself.

MRS. FLAMM

I don't see how a body can fail to judge such recklessness harshly.

FLAMM

Recklessness? I don't think that it was mere recklessness. What would you rather have it be, mother—recklessness, or something more serious?

MRS. FLAMM

To destroy the future of just this girl, for whom we have to bear all the responsibility! We made her come to the house! An' she an' her people had blind confidence in us! 'Tis enough to make one perish o' shame! It looks as if one had ... that ... in view!

FLAMM

Are you done, mother?

MRS. FLAMM

Far from it!

FLAMM

Well, then I'll have to wait a bit longer.

MRS. FLAMM

Christie, what did I tell you that day when you out with it an' said you wanted to marry me?

FLAMM

What was it?

MRS. FLAMM

I'm much too old for you. A woman can be sixteen years younger than her husband, but not three or four years older. I wish you had listened to me then!

FLAMM

Isn't it real idle to dish up those old stories now? Haven't we something more important to do?—I may be wrong, but it seems to me that we have, mother.—I've had no notion until to-day of what Rose means to me. Otherwise I'd have acted very differently, of course. Now it's got to be seen if there's anything that can be retrieved. And for that very reason, mother, I was going to beg you not to be petty, and I wanted first of all to try to see whether you could gain some comprehension of what really happened. Up to the moment when it was agreed that that tottery manikin was to marry Rose—our relations were strictly honourable. But when that marriage was determined on—it was all over.—It may be that my ideas are becoming confused. I had seen the girl grow up ... some of our love for little Kurt clung to her. First of all I wanted to protect her from misfortune, and finally, one day, all of a sudden, the way such things happen ... even old Plato has described that correctly in the passage in Phaedrus about the two horses:—the bad horse ran away with me and then ... then the sea burst in and the dykes crashed down.

MRS. FLAMM

'Tis a real interesting story that you've told me, an' even tricked out with learned allusions. An' when you men do that—you think there's no more to say. A poor woman can look out then to see how to get even! Maybe you did it all just to make Rose happy, an' sacrificed yourself into the bargain ... There's no excuse for such things!

FLAMM

Very well, mother. Then we'll adjourn the session. Remember though, that when Kurt died, I couldn't bear to see the girl around the house. Who kept her and persuaded her to come back?

MRS. FLAMM

Because I didn't want life to become so dead around us. I didn't keep her for my sake.

FLAMM

And I have said nothing for your sake.

MRS. FLAMM

Every tear is wasted that one might shed for you an' your kind. But you can spare me your speeches, Flamm.

The MAID brings in the afternoon coffee.

THE MAID

Rose Bernd's out in the kitchen.

MRS. FLAMM

Come, girl! Wheel me out! [To FLAMM.] You can help shove me aside. Somewhere in the world there'll be a little room for me! I won't be in the way. You can call her in when I'm gone.

FLAMM

[Sternly, to the MAID.] Tell the girl to wait for a moment. [The MAID leaves the room.] Mother, you have to say a word to her! I can't.... My hands are tied.

MRS. FLAMM

An' what am I to say to her, Flamm?

FLAMM

Mother, you know that better than I! You know very well ... you spoke of it yourself.... For heaven's sake, don't be petty at this moment! She mustn't go from our door in any such fashion!

MRS. FLAMM

I can't clean her boots, Flamm!

FLAMM

And I don't want you to! It isn't a question of that! But you sent for her yourself.—You can't change so completely in a moment as to forget all compassion and sympathy. What did you say to me a while ago? And if the lass goes to the devil ... you know I'm not such a scoundrel that I'd care to drag out my life any longer. It's one thing or the other—don't forget that!

MRS. FLAMM

Well, Christie ... you men are not worth it, to be sure. An' yet, in the end, what is a body to do?—The heart bleeds! 'Tis our own fault. Why does a woman deceive herself again an' again, when she's old enough an' sensible enough to know better! An' don't deceive yourself about this thing either, Christie.... I'm willin'! I can do it! I'll talk to her! Not for your sake, but because it's right. But don't imagine that I can make whole what you've broken.—You men are like children in that respect!

The MAID comes back.

THE MAID

She don't want to wait no more!

MRS. FLAMM

Send her in!

The MAID withdraws again.

FLAMM

Be sensible, mother! On my word of honour....

MRS. FLAMM

You needn't give it! You needn't break it!

FLAMM leaves the room. MRS. FLAMM sighs and picks up her crochet work again. Thereupon ROSE BERND enters.

ROSE

[Showily dressed in her Sunday clothes. Her features are peaked and there is a feverish gleam in her eyes.] Good-day, madam.

MRS. FLAMM

Good-day! Sit down. Well, Rose, I've asked you to come here ... I suppose you've kept in mind what we talked about that time. There's many a thing that's changed since then!... In many respects, anyhow! But that made me want to talk to you all the more. That day, to be sure, you said I couldn't help you, that you wanted to fight it all out alone! An' to-day a good bit has grown clear to me—your strange behaviour that time, an' your unwillingness to let me help you.—But I don't see how you're goin' to get along all alone. Come, drink a cup o' coffee. [ROSE sits down on the edge of a chair by the table.] August was here to see me a while ago. If I had been in your shoes, lass, I'd have risked it long ago an' told him the truth. [Looking sharply at her.] But now, the way things has gone—I can't even advise you to do it! Isn't that true?

ROSE

Oh, but why, madam?

MRS. FLAMM

'Tis true, the older a person gets, the less can she understand mankind an' their ways. We've all come into the world the same way, but there's no mention to be made o' that! From the Emperor an' the archbishop down to the stable boy—they've all gotten their bit o' life one way ... one way ... an' 'tis the one thing they can't besmirch enough. An' if the stork but flies past the chimney-top—the confusion of people is great. Then they run away in every direction. A guest like that is never welcome!

ROSE

Oh, madam, all that would ha' been straightened up this long time, if it hadn't ha' been for this criminal an' scoundrel here ... this liar ... this Streckmann ...

MRS. FLAMM

No, girl. I don't understand that. How can you bear to say that the man lies? 'Tis your shape that almost tells the story now!

ROSE

He lies! He lies! That's all I know.

MRS. FLAMM

But in what respect does he lie?

ROSE

In every respeck an' in every way!

MRS. FLAMM

I don't believe you've really thought it all out! Do you remember who I am? Think, lass, think! In the first place you confessed it all to me, and furthermore, I know more than what you said: I know all that you didn't say.

ROSE

[Shivering with nervousness but obdurate.] An' if you was to kill me, I couldn't say what I don't know.

MRS. FLAMM

Is that so? Oh! Is that your policy now? I must say I didn't take you for a girl of that kind! It comes over me unexpectedly! I hope you talked a little plainer than that when you were questioned in court.

ROSE

I said just the same thing there that I'm tellin' you.

MRS. FLAMM

Girl, come to your senses! You're talking dreadful folly! People don't lie that way before the Judge! Listen to what I'm tellin' you! Drink a bit o' coffee, an' don't be frightened! Nobody's pursuing you, an' I won't eat you up either!—You haven't acted very well toward me: no one could say that you had! You might at least have told me the truth that day; maybe an easier way out could ha' been found. 'Tis a hard matter now! An' yet, we won't be idle, an' even to-day, maybe, some way o' savin' you can be found! Some way it may be possible yet! Well then!... An' especially ... this much is certain ... an' you can trust to that surely ... you shan't, either of you, ever suffer any need in this world! Even if your father abandons you and August, maybe, goes his own way, I'll provide for you an' for your child.

ROSE

I don't hardly know what you mean, madam!

MRS. FLAMM

Well, girl, then I'll tell you straight out! If you don't know that an' have forgotten it, then it's simply because you have a bad conscience! Then you've been guilty of something else! An', if you has another secret, it's connected with nobody but with Streckmann. Then, he's the fellow that's bringin' trouble upon you!

ROSE

[Violently.] No, how can you think such a thing o' me! You say that ... oh, for the good Lord's sake ... how has I deserved it o' you!... If only my little Kurt ... my dear little fellow ...

[She wrings her hands hysterically in front of the child's picture.

MRS. FLAMM

Rose, let that be, I beg o' you! It may be that you've deserved well o' me in other days. We're not arguin' about that now! But you're so changed, so ... I can never understand how you've come to change so!

ROSE

Why didn't my little mother take me to herself! She said she would when she died.

MRS. FLAMM

Come to your senses, lass. You're alive. What is your trouble?

ROSE

It has nothin' to do with Streckmann! That man has lied his soul black.

MRS. FLAMM

What did he lie about? Did he make his statements under oath?

ROSE

Oath or no oath! I says he lies, lies ...

MRS. FLAMM

An' did you have to take an oath too?

ROSE

I don't know.—I'm not such a wicked lass ... If that was true,'twould be a bitter crime!... An' that August lost his eye ... it wasn't I that was the cause o' it. The pains that poor man had to suffer ... they follows me day an' night. An' he might well despise me if they didn't. But you try an' work an' pray to save somethin' from the flames o' the world ... an' men comes an' they breaks your strength.

FLAMM enters in intense excitement.

FLAMM

Who is breaking your strength? Look at mother here! On the contrary, we want to save you!

ROSE

'Tis too late now! It can't be done no more.

FLAMM

What does that mean?

ROSE

Nothin'!—I can't wait no longer. Good-bye, I'll go my ways.

FLAMM

Here you stay! Don't move from this spot! I was at the door and heard everything, and now I want to know the whole truth.

ROSE

But I'm tellin' you the truth!

FLAMM

About Streckmann too?

ROSE

There wasn't nothin' between us. He lies!

FLAMM

Does he say that there was something between you?

ROSE

I say nothin' but that he lies!

FLAMM

Did he swear to that lie?

ROSE is silent.

FLAMM

[Regards ROSE long and searchingly. Then:] Well, mother, think as charitably of me as you can. Try to forgive me as much as possible. I know with the utmost certainty that that matter doesn't concern me in the least any longer! I simply laugh at it! I snap my fingers at it.

MRS. FLAMM

[To ROSE.] Did you deny everything?

ROSE

...

FLAMM

I spoke the truth in court, of course. Streckmann doesn't lie at such times neither. Perjury is a penitentiary crime—a man doesn't lie under such circumstances!

MRS. FLAMM

An' didn't you tell the truth, girl? You lied when you were under oath, maybe?—Haven't you any idea what that means an' what you've done? How did you happen to do that? How could you think o' such a thing?

ROSE

[Cries out brokenly.] I was so ashamed!

MRS. FLAMM

But Rose ...

FLAMM

Every word is wasted! Why did you lie to the judge?

ROSE

I was ashamed, I tell ye!... I was ashamed!

FLAMM

And I? And mother? And August? Why did you cheat us all? And you probably cheated Streckmann in the end too? And I wonder with whom else you carried on!... Yes, oh, yes; you have a very honest face. But you did right to be ashamed!

ROSE

He baited me an' he hunted me down like a dog!

FLAMM

[Laughing.] Oh, well, that's what you women make of us—dogs. This man to-day; that man to-morrow! 'Tis bitter enough to think! You can do what you please now; follow what ways you want to!—If I so much as raise a finger in this affair again, it'll be to take a rope and beat it about my ass's ears until I can't see out of my eyes!

ROSE stares at FLAMM in wide-eyed horror.

MRS. FLAMM

What I said, Rose, stands for all that! You two'll always be provided for.

ROSE

[Whispering mechanically.] I was so ashamed! I was so ashamed!

MRS. FLAMM

Do you hear what I say, Rose?—[ROSE hurries out.] The girl's gone!—'Tis enough to make one pray for an angel to come down....

FLAMM

[Stricken to the heart, breaks out in repressed sobbing.] God forgive me, mother, but ... I can't help it.

THE CURTAIN FALLS



FIFTH ACT

The living room in old BERND'S cottage. The room is fairly large; it has grey walls and an old-fashioned whitewashed ceiling supported by visible beams. A door in the background leads to the kitchen, one at the left to the outer hall. To the right are two small windows. A yellow chest of drawers stands between the two windows; upon it is set an unlit kerosene lamp; a mirror hangs above it on the wall. In the left corner a great stove; in the right a sofa, covered with oil-cloth, a table with a cloth on it and a hanging lamp above it. Over the sofa on the wall hangs a picture with the Biblical subject: "Suffer little children to come unto me"; beneath it a photograph of BERND, showing him as a conscript, and several of himself and his wife. In the foreground, to the left, stands a china closet, filled with painted cups, glasses, etc. A Bible is lying on the chest of drawers; over the door to the hall hangs a chromolithograph of "Christ with the crown of thorns." Mull curtains hang in front of the windows. Each of four or five chairs of yellow wood has its own place. The whole room makes a neat but very chilly impression. Several Bibles and hymnals lie on the china closet. On the door-post of the door to the hall hangs a collecting-box.

It is seven o'clock in the evening of the same day on which the events in Act Four have taken place. The door that leads to the hall as well as the kitchen door stands open. A gloomy dusk fills the house.

Voices are heard outside, and a repeated knocking at the window. Thereupon a voice speaks through the window.

THE VOICE

Bernd! Isn't there a soul at home? Let's be goin' to the back door!

A silence ensues. Soon, however, the back door opens and voices and steps are heard in the hall. In the door that leads to the hall appear KLEINERT and ROSE BERND. The latter is obviously exhausted and leans upon him.

ROSE

[Weak and faint.] No one's at home. 'Tis all dark.

KLEINERT

I can't be leavin' you alone this way now!

ROSE

An' why not, Kleinert? There's nothin' the matter with me!

KLEINERT

Somebody else can believe that—that there's nothin' wrong! I wouldn't ha' had to pick you up in that case!

ROSE

Eh, but I'd only gotten a bit dizzy. Truly ... 'tis better now. I really don't need you no more.

KLEINERT

No, no, lass; I can't leave you this way!

ROSE

Oh, yes, father Kleinert! I do thank you, but 'tis well! There's nothin' wrong with me! I'm on my feet an' strong again! It comes over me that way sometimes; but 'tis nothin' to worry over.

KLEINERT

But you lay half dead yonder behind the willow! An' you writhed like a worm.

ROSE

Kleinert, go your ways.... I'll be lightin' a light! An' I must light a fire, too ... go your ways ... the folks will be comin' to their supper!... Oh, no, Kleinert, Kleinert! But I'm that tired! Oh, I'm so terrible tired! No one wouldn't believe how tired I am.

KLEINERT

An' then you want to be lightin' a fire here? That's nothin' for you! Bed is the place where you ought to be!

ROSE

Kleinert, go your ways, go! If father, an' if August ... they mustn't know nothin'! For my sake, go! Don't do nothin' that'll only harm me!

KLEINERT

I don't want to do nothin' that'll harm you!

ROSE

No, no, I know it! You was always good to me! [She has arisen from the chair at the right on which, she had sunk down, gets a candle from behind the oven and lights it.] Oh, yes, yes, I'm well off again.—There's nothin' wrong.—You can be easy in your mind.

KLEINERT

You're just sayin' that!

ROSE

Because 'tis really so!

MARTHEL comes in from the fields with bare arms and feet.

ROSE

An' there's Marthel, too!

MARTHEL

Rose, is that you? Where have you been all day?

ROSE

I dreamed I was at the court.

KLEINERT

No, no; she was really at the court! Take a bit o' care o' your sister, Marthel. Look after her at least till your fatter comes back. 'Tisn't well with the girl.

ROSE

Marthel, hurry! Light the fire, so's we can start to put on the potatoes.—Where's father?

MARTHEL

On August's land.

ROSE

An' August?

MARTHEL

I don't know where he is. He was out on the field to-day.

ROSE

Have you got new potatoes?

MARTHEL

I have an apron full!

[Immediately behind the kitchen door she pours out the potatoes on the floor.

ROSE

Fetch me a pan and a saucepan, so's I can begin the peelin'. I can't get nothin' for myself.

KLEINERT

D'you want me to be givin' a message anywhere?

ROSE

To whom? To the grave-digger, maybe?... No, no, godfather, not on my account. 'Tis a special bit o' ground where I'll find rest.

KLEINERT

Well, good-bye!

ROSE

Good-bye to you!

MARTHEL

[Cheerily.] Come again, godfather!

KLEINERT as usual with his pipe in his mouth, departs shaking his head.

MARTHEL

[Lighting the fire.] Don't you feel well, Rosie?

ROSE

Oh, yes; well enough! [Softly wringing her hands, she speaks to the crucifix.] Jesus, Mary, have mercy on me!

MARTHEL

Rose!

ROSE

What?

MARTHEL

What's the matter with you?

ROSE

Nothin'. Bring me a pan an' the potatoes.

MARTHEL

[Has started the fire to burning and now brings ROSE an earthenware bowl of potatoes and a paring knife.] Oh, but Rosie, I'm that frightened! You look so ...!

ROSE

How does I look? Tell me that? How? Has I got spots on my hands? Is it branded over my eyes? Everythin's kind o' ghastly to me this day. [Laughing a ghastly laugh.] Lord! I can't see the face o' you! Now I see one hand! Now I see two eyes! Just dots now! Martha, maybe I'm growin' blind!

MARTHEL

Rosie, did somethin' happen to you?

ROSE

God protect you from what's happened to me.... You'd better be wishin' yourself an early death! Because, even if a body dies to this world, they do say that he passes into rest. Then you don't have to live an' draw breath no more.—How did it go with little Kurt Flamm? I've clean forgot ... I'm dizzy ... I'm forgettin' ... I've forgotten everythin' ... life's that hard ... If I could only keep on feelin' this way ... an' never wake up again ...! What's the reason o' such things comin' to pass in this world?

MARTHEL

[Frightened.] If only father would come home!

ROSE

Martha, come! Listen to me! You mustn't tell father that I was here or that I am here ... Martha, sure you'll promise me that, won't you?... Many a thing I've done for the love o' you ... Martha! You haven't forgotten that, nor you mustn't forget it, even if things grows dark around me now.

MARTHEL

Will you drink a bit of coffee? There's a drop left in the oven.

ROSE

An' don't be frightened! I'll go upstairs in the room an' lie down a wee bit ... just a bit. Otherwise I'm all right ... otherwise there's nothin' that ails me.

MARTHEL

An' I'm not to say nothin' to father?

ROSE

Not a word!

MARTHEL

An' not to August neither?

ROSE

Not a syllable! Lass, you've never known your mother an' I've raised you with fear an' heartache.—Many's the night I've watched through in terror because you was ill! I wasn't as old as you when I carried you about on my arm till I was near breakin' in two! Here you was—at my breast! An' if you go an' betray me now, 'tis all over between us!

MARTHEL

Rosie, 'tis nothin' bad is it ... nothin' dangerous, I mean?

ROSE

I don't believe it is! Come, Martha, help me a bit, support me a bit!... A body is left too lonely in this world ... too deserted! If only a body wasn't so lonely here ... so lonely on this earth!

[ROSE and MARTHEL pass out through the hall door.

For some moments the room remains empty. Then old BERND appears in the kitchen. He puts down his basket and the potato hoe and looks about him, earnestly and inquiringly. Meanwhile MARTHEL re-enters the living-room from the hall.

MARTHEL

Is it you, father?

BERND

Is there no hot water! You know I have to have my foot bath! Isn't Rose here yet?

MARTHEL

She isn't here yet, father!

BERND

What? Hasn't she come back from court yet? That isn't possible hardly! 'Tis eight o'clock. Was August here?

MARTHEL

Not yet.

BERND

Not yet either? Well, maybe she's with him then.—Have you seen that great cloud, Marthel, that was comin' over from the mountain about six o'clock, maybe?

MARTHEL

Yes, father; the world got all dark!

BERND

There'll come a day o' greater darkness than this! Light the lamp on the table for me an' put the Good Book down next to it. The great thing is to be in readiness. Marthel, are you sure you keep thinkin' o' the life eternal, so that you can stand up before your Judge on that day? Few is the souls that think of it here! Just now as I was comin' home along the water's edge, I heard some one cryin' out upon me from behind, as they often does. "Bloodsucker!" cried he. An' was I a bloodsucker when I was overseer on the domain? Nay, I did my duty,—that was all! But the powers of evil is strong! If a man is underhanded, an' closes his eyes to evil, an' looks on quietly upon cheatin'—then his fellows likes him well.—But I leans upon the Lord Jesus. We human bein's all need that support. 'Tisn't enough just to do good works! Maybe if Rose had given more thought to that, maybe we'd ha' been spared many a visitation an' a deal o' heaviness an' bitterness. [A CONSTABLE appears in the doorway.] Who's comin' there?

CONSTABLE

I have a summons to serve, I must speak to your daughter.

BERND

My oldest daughter?

CONSTABLE

[Reads from the document.] To Rose Bernd.

BERND

My daughter hasn't come back from court yet. Can I give her the letter?

CONSTABLE

No; I've got to make a personal search, too. I'll be back at eight in the mornin'.

AUGUST appears hastily.

BERND

There's August, too.

AUGUST

Isn't Rose here?

BERND

No; an' the sergeant here is askin' after her, too. I thought you an' she was together.

CONSTABLE

I has to make a search into one matter an' also to serve this paper.

AUGUST

Always an' forever this Streckmann business. 'Tis not only the loss of my eye—now we has these everlastin' troubles an' annoyances. It seems, God forgive me, to come to no end.

CONSTABLE

Good evenin'. To-morrow mornin' at eight!

[Exit.

AUGUST

Marthel, go into the kitchen a bit of a while.—Father, I've got to speak with you. Go, Marthel; go an' shut the door. But Marthel, didn't you see anythin' o' Rose?

MARTHEL

No, nothin'! [Surreptitiously she beckons to him with her hand.] I'll tell you something August.

AUGUST

Close the door, lass. I have no time now. [He himself closes the kitchen door.] Father, you'll have to withdraw your suit.

BERND

Anythin' but that, August. I can't do that!

AUGUST

'Tis not Christian. Yon must withdraw.

BERND

I don't believe that 'tis not Christian!—For why? 'Tis a piece of infamy to cut off a girl's honour that way. 'Tis a crime that needs to be punished.

AUGUST

I hardly know how to begin, father Bernd.... You've been too hasty in this matter....

BERND

My wife who's in her grave demands that of me! An' my honour demands it ... the honour o' my house and o' my lass. An' yours, too, if you come to think.

AUGUST

Father Bernd, father Bernd, how am I to speak to you if you're so set on not makin' peace? You've spoke o' so many kinds of honour. But we're not to seek our honour or glory in this world, but God's only an' no other!

BERND

'Tis otherwise in this matter. Here woman's honour is God's too! Or have you any complaint to make against Rose?

AUGUST

I've said to you: I make no complaint!

BERND

Or is your own conscience troublin' you on her account?

AUGUST

You know me in that respeck, father Bernd. Before I'd depart from the straight an' narrow way ...

BERND

Well, then. I know that! I always knew that! An' so justice can take its course.

AUGUST

[Wiping the sweat from his forehead.] If only we knew where Rose is!

BERND

Maybe she isn't back from the court at Striegau yet!

AUGUST

An examination like that don't take very long. She meant to be home by five o'clock.

BERND

Maybe she went to buy some things on the way. Wasn't she to get several things yet? I thought you were wantin' one thing or another.

AUGUST

But she didn't take along any money. An' the things we was needin' for the shop—curtains for the windows an' the door—we intended to buy those together.

BERND

I was thinkin' that she'd come with you!

AUGUST

I went to meet her on the road—more'n a mile, but I heard an' saw nothin' of her. Instead o' that, I met Streckmann.

BERND

I calls that meetin' the devil!

AUGUST

Ah, father, that man has a wife an' children too! His sins are no fault o' theirs! What good does it do me that he's got to go to gaol? If a man repents ... that's all I asks!

BERND

That bad man don't know repentance!

AUGUST

It looked very much as if he did.

BERND

Did you speak to him?

AUGUST

He gave me no peace. He ran along next to me an' talked an' talked. There wasn't a soul to be seen far an' wide! In the end I felt sorry for him; I couldn't help it.

BERND

You answered him! What did he say?

AUGUST

He said you should withdraw your suit.

BERND

I couldn't rest quiet in my grave if I did! 'Twouldn't matter if it concerned me! I can bear it; I can laugh at it! I'm not only a man but a Christian! But 'tis a different thing with my child! How could I look you in the face if I let that shameful thing stick to her! An' now, especially, after that terrible misfortune! Look, August, that can't be! That mustn't be!—Everybody's always been at our heels, because we lived different from the rest o' the world! Hypocrites they called us an' bigots, an' sneaks an' such names! An' always they wanted to trump up somethin' against us! What a feast this here thing would be to 'em! An' besides ... How did I bring up the lass? Industrious an' with the fear o' God in her heart so that if a Christian man marries her, he can set up a Christian household! That's the way! That's how I gives her out o' my care! An' am I goin' to let that poison cling to her? Rather would I be eatin' bread an' salt all my days than take a penny from you then!

AUGUST

Father Bernd, God's ways is mysterious! He can send us new trials daily! No man has a right to be self-righteous! An' even if I wanted to be, I couldn't! I can't spare you the knowledge no longer, father. Our Rose has been but a weak human bein' like others.

BERND

How do you mean that, August?

AUGUST

Father, don't ask me no more,

BERND

[Has sat down on a chair by the table in such a way that his face is turned to the wall. At AUGUST'S last words he has looked at him with eyes, wide-open and estranged. Then he turns to the table, opens the Bible with trembling hands, and turns its leaves hither and thither in growing excitement. He ceases and looks at AUGUST again. Finally he folds his hands over the book and lets his head sink upon them while his body twitches convulsively. In this posture he remains for a while, Then he straightens himself up.] No. I don't understand you rightly! Because, you see, if I did understand you rightly ... that'd be really ... an' I wouldn't know ... my God, the room swims with me ... why, I'd have to be deaf an' blind!—Nay, August, an' I'm not deaf an' blind! Don't let Streckmann impose on you! He'll take any means to get out o' the trap that he's in now. It's comin' home to him, an' he wants to sneak out at any cost! An' so he's incitin' you against the lass. No, August, ... truly, August ... not on that bridge ... you mustn't start for to cross that bridge!... Anybody can see through his villainy! ... He's laid traps enough for the lass. An' if one way don't succeed, he'll try another!... Now he's hit on this here plan.—Maybe he'll separate you two! It's happened in this world, more than once or twice that some devil with his evil schemes has tore asunder people that God meant for each other. They always grudged the girl her good fortune. Good: I'm willin'! I won't throw Rose after you! We've satisfied our hunger up to now! But if you'll heed my word: I'll put my right hand in the fire for....

AUGUST

But Mr. Flamm took oath.

BERND

Ten oaths against me ... twenty oaths against me!... Then he has sworn falsely an' damned hisself in this world an' in the world to come!

AUGUST

Father Bernd....

BERND

Now wait a bit before ever you say another word! Here I take the books! Here I take my hat! Here I take the collecting box o' the missions. An' all these things I puts together here. An' if that's true what you've been sayin'—if there's so much in it as a grain o' truth—then I'll go this minute to the pastor an' I'll say: Your reverence, this is how things is: I can't be a deacon no more; I can't take care o' the treasury for missions no more! Good-bye! And then nobody would see me no more! No, no, no, for the love o' God! But now go on! Say your say! But don't torture me for nothin'.

AUGUST

I had the same thought, too. I want to sell my house an' my land! Maybe one could find contentment somewhere else.

BERND

[In unspeakable astonishment.] You want to sell your house an' your land, August? How do all these strange things come about all of a sudden! It's enough ... A body might be tempted to make the sign o' the cross, even though we're not Catholics.—Has the whole world gone mad? Or is the Day o' Judgment at hand? Or maybe, 'tis but my last hour that has come. Now answer me, August, how is it? As you hope for a life to come, how is it?

AUGUST

However it is, father Bernd, I won't desert her.

BERND

You can do about that as you please. That don't concern me! I don't want to know if a man'd like a wench o' that kind in his house or not. Not me! I'm not that kind of a man. Well now ...?

AUGUST

I can't say nothin' more than this—somethin' must ha' happened to her! Whether 'twas with Flamm or with Streckmann....

BERND

That makes two of 'em ...!

AUGUST

I can't tell exactly ...!

BERND

Well, then I'll be goin' to the pastor! Brush me off, August, clean me a bit! I feel as if I had the itch on my body!

[He steps into the hall.

At the same moment MARTHEL rushes out of the kitchen and speaks to AUGUST in intense terror.

MARTHEL

I believe a misfortune has happened to Rose! She's upstairs! She's been home this long time!

BERND

[Returns, changed somewhat by a fright which he has felt.] Somebody must be upstairs.

AUGUST

Marthel is just sayin' that Rose is there.

MARTHEL

I hear her. She's comin' down the stairs.

BERND

God forgive me the sin! I don't want to see her.

He sits down at the table, as before, holds his thumbs over his ears and bends his head deep over the Bible. ROSE appears in the door. She has her house skirt on and a loose bodice of cotton cloth. She keeps herself erect by sheer force of will. Her hair hangs down, partly loose, partly braided. There is in her face an expression of terrible, fatalistic calm and of bitter defiance. For several moments she lets her eyes wander over the room, over OLD BERND sitting there with his Bible, over AUGUST who has slowly turned from the door and pretends to be looking intently out of the window. Then, groping for some support, she begins to talk with desperate energy.

ROSE

Good-evenin' to all o' ye!—?—Good evenin'.

AUGUST

[After some hemming.] The same to you.

ROSE

[With bitter iciness.] If you don't want me, I can go again.

AUGUST

[Simply.] Where else do you want to go to? An' where have you been?

ROSE

He that asks much, hears much. More sometimes than he'd like to.—Marthel, come over here to me a bit. [MARTHEL goes. Rose has seated herself not far from the stove and takes the younger girl's hand. Then she says:] What's the matter with father?

MARTHEL

[Embarrassed, timid, speaks softly.] I don't know that neither.

ROSE

What's the matter with father? You can speak right out! An' with you, August? What is the matter with you?... You've got cause, that you have, August, to despise me. I don't deny that. No....

AUGUST

I don't despise no one in this world.

ROSE

But I do! All of 'em ... all ... all!

AUGUST

Those is dark words to me that you're speakin'.

ROSE

Dark? Yes! I know it. The world's dark! An' you hear the roarin' o' wild beasts in it. An' then, later, it gets brighter ... but them are the flames o' hell that make it bright.—Martha....

BERND

[Who has been listening a little, arises and frees MARTHEL'S wrist from ROSE'S grasp.] Don't poison the little lass's mind. Take your hand away!—March off to bed! [MARTHEL goes weeping.] A man would like to be deaf, to be blind! A man'd like to be dead.

[He becomes absorbed again in his Bible.

ROSE Father!—I'm alive!—I'm sittin' here!—That's somethin'!—Yes, that's something when you considers!—I think, father, you might understand that! This is a world ...! Nobody can never do nothin' more to me! O Jesus, my Saviour—! All o' you, all o' you—you live together in a bit o' chamber an' you don't know what goes on outside in the world! I know it now ... I've learned it in bitterness an' wailin'! I had to get out o' that little chamber! An' then—somehow—the walls gave way, one wall an' another ... an' there I stood, outside, in the storm ... an' there—was nothin' under me an' nothin' above me ... nothin'. You're all like children compared to me.

AUGUST

[Frightened.] But, Rose, if it's true what Streckmann says, then you've committed perjury!...

ROSE

[Laughing bitterly.] I don't know. 'Tis possible ... I can't just remember this moment. The world is made up o' lies an' deception.

BERND

[Sighs.] O God ... my refuge evermore.

AUGUST

Is it so easy that you take the swearin' o' false oaths?

ROSE

That's nothin'! Nothin'! How could that be anythin'? There's somethin' that lies, out there, under a willow ... That's ... somethin' ... The rest don't concern me! There ... there ... I wanted to look up at the stars! I wanted to cry out an' to call out! No heavenly Father stirred to help me.

BERND

[Frightened, trembling.] You're blasphemin' our heavenly Father? Has it gone so far with you? Then I don't know you no more!

ROSE

[Approaching him on her knees.] 'Tis gone so far! But you know me anyhow, father! You cradled me on your knees, an' I've stood by you too many a time.—Now somethin' has come over us all—I've fought against it and struggled against it....