HELLA. I am glad for you and both of us!

PAUL (seizes her hand). Yes, for both of us. We must come to an agreement, Hella!

HELLA (cautiously). I hope we are agreed. And, moreover, you know how we can remain so!

PAUL (thoughtful again). Well, as I rode along, strange! So many years of desk work, I thought to myself, and nothing but desk work. My bones have almost become stiff as a result and, after all, what has come of it? Little enough! You surely must admit that.

HELLA (seriously). I can not admit that, Paul.

PAUL. But we do live in a continual turmoil, Hella, in an everlasting struggle the outcome of which we can not foresee and from which we shall reap no rewards. We are working for strangers, are sacrificing our best years and have forgotten to consider ourselves. Do you suppose they will thank us some day when we are down and out? Not a soul!

HELLA. Nor do I demand gratitude and recognition. I do what I have recognized to be correct; that constitutes my happiness.

PAUL. But not mine. I want more, Hella! I am at an age when fine words no longer avail me. And see, here is a world in which I have what I need, what I am seeking, here at last I can follow myself up, can see what is really in me and not what has merely been imposed upon me. I am on the crest of my life, Hella. Possibly past it. Do not take it amiss! I need rest, composure ...

HELLA (reserved). And for that you are going to the end of the world?

PAUL. I had got to the end of the world! Now I shall begin all over again. Would the attempt not be worth while? Tell me, comrade! (He seizes both of HELLA'S hands and looks squarely into her eyes.)

HELLA (reserved). I can't answer you now, Paul.

PAUL (visibly relieved). Very well! If you can not at present ... There is plenty of time.

HELLA. Isn't there? You will give me time. I should like to put it off only a few days longer.

PAUL (joyously). Why as long as you please. Till then I shall be assured of you and meanwhile you will get acclimated?

HELLA. Only a few days, Paul. Possibly I can make a definite proposition to you by that time.

PAUL (shakes her hands again, happy). Hella, my clever, unusual Hella! (He puts his arms around her waist, about to kiss her.)

HELLA (with quick resistance). What are you doing, Paul! Don't you see how wet you are?

PAUL. Snow-water! Clear snow-water. What harm will that do! Give me a kiss, Hella!

HELLA (reluctantly). You do have notions at times!... So here is your kiss! (Extends her cheek to him.)

PAUL (embraces her.) Oh, no! Today I must have something unusual! (He tries to kiss her mouth.)

HELLA (warding him off). Do stop that, Paul! I beg you urgently!

PAUL (looks into her eyes). But why not, Hella! Just for today ...! (His voice is soft and pleading.)

HELLA (with her face toward the sofa). Why Glyszinski is sitting there.

PAUL (impatiently). What is Glyszinski to me? It's surely all right for a husband and wife to kiss each other.

HELLA. But not before strangers! I can't bear that, Paul!

PAUL (bitterly). Calm down! It never happens anyhow! (He releases her and walks through the hall with great strides).

HELLA (shrugging her shoulders). Because it is really not proper for two people who are as old as we have become. People should become sensible sometime.

PAUL (with increasing excitement). You always were! Why, I don't know you any other way.

HELLA. You must have liked it well enough.

PAUL (bursting out). Yes I probably did ...! At that time! Because I was a fool!

HELLA (picks up her book again, turns as if to go away). Now you are becoming abusive! Good-by, I have work to do!

PAUL (intercepts her). Hella! I am coming to you with an overflowing heart! I have a yearning to be alone with you, once, only once; I am almost desperate for a heart to heart talk ...

GLYSZINSKI (who has silently followed the scene from the sofa, presumably engrossed in his book, but at times has cast over a furtive glance, makes a motion as if to rise). If I'm disturbing you, you only need to say so ...

HELLA. Do not be funny, doctor. You do know that I wanted to go to my room some time ago. Please let me pass, Paul!

PAUL (has retreated, with an angry bow). You have plenty of room! (Across to GLYSZINSKI) Hella is quite right. There is no longer any occasion for you to go. (He goes to the fireplace and sits down facing the fire.)

HELLA (remains in the centre of the hall a few moments longer, then takes a step in the direction of PAUL, and speaks in a changed, gentler voice). Paul! (PAUL does not stir).

HELLA (urgently). Paul!

PAUL. That's all right!

HELLA. Oh, is it! Very well! (She turns away abruptly, goes over toward the right, opens the door and turns around, saying curtly). I wish to work, so please do not disturb me. (She goes out.)

PAUL (has become restless, gets up and calls). Hella! (One can hear how the door is being locked on the other side.) As you please, then! (He sits down again).

GLYSZINSKI (looking up from his book). Hella has locked the door.

[PAUL sets his teeth and is silent. Pause.]

GLYSZINSKI. Am I disturbing you?

PAUL (without turning around). I have already told you, no! Not any longer, now!

GLYSZINSKI. So I have been disturbing you?

PAUL. I'll leave that to you.

GLYSZINSKI. You would like to have me go away?

PAUL. Dear Glyszinski, don't ask such stupid questions!

GLYSZINSKI. Well, I should have gone long ago ...

PAUL (cutting). Indeed?

GLYSZINSKI. I can see very well how irksome I am to you.

PAUL. You are not at all irksome, dear Glyszinski, neither now nor formerly. You are only funny.

GLYSZINSKI. You two admitted me to your household.

PAUL. Excuse me! Hella admitted you.

GLYSZINSKI. That is what I was going to say. Upon Hella's express invitation ...

PAUL. Correct.

GLYSZINSKI. Indeed I may say upon her wish ...

PAUL. Also correct.

GLYSZINSKI. I came into your house.

PAUL. That was very kind of you.

GLYSZINSKI. And so I can leave it only upon her invitation. Not before! I should be offending Hella, and that I cannot take upon myself. I revere her too much for that.

PAUL (cutting). Sensitive soul that you are!

GLYSZINSKI. Of course my views may not agree with all the conventional rules of society, but there are still other, higher duties.

PAUL (amused). And you honor them?

GLYSZINSKI (casting a piercing look at PAUL). Yes, it is my duty to protect Hella.

PAUL. Protect Hella?... (He gets up.) Do you know! One is impelled to feel sorry for you! (He turns away and walks through the hall.)

GLYSZINSKI. Well!

PAUL. Yes, you have no idea how far you are off the track. That's the reason.

GLYSZINSKI. Thanks for your sympathy!

PAUL. You are badly off the track, and will hardly get on again, unless you are warned in time. Whether or not that will do you any good, is your affair.

GLYSZINSKI (agitated). But what does all of this mean? I don't understand you.

PAUL (very seriously). In a word, that means: look out for women who are like Hella! Look out for that ilk! That tells the whole story! The whole story!

GLYSZINSKI (jumps up). And you expect me to follow that advice?

PAUL. Do not follow it, but don't be surprised later on if you find yourself in the position in which I am today. It has taken me ten to twelve years to arrive at it. Half of that time will suffice for you.

GLYSZINSKI. Why that is sheer nonsense! Your position is estimable enough.

PAUL. I am a bankrupt! That's all!

GLYSZINSKI (greatly excited). Imagination, pure imagination! You have your position! You have a name in the movement!

PAUL (bitterly). Oh yes! This movement!

GLYSZINSKI. I wish I were that far along!

PAUL. Possibly you are, without knowing it. But as for myself, when I was of your age and began to fly the track, the aforesaid track, I was quite another fellow! Today as I rode through the snow knee-deep, that became quite clear to me! I saw myself as I had been once upon a time and then realized what had later become of me! All the strength! All the life! All the color! All lost! All gone!... Colorless and commonplace! That is the outcome! (He sinks down in complete collapse.)

GLYSZINSKI (very uncomfortably). And you blame Hella for all that?

HELLA (a pen behind her ear, puts in her head and calls). Glyszinski! Doctor! Why don't you come in! I want you to help me write a number of letters. I shall dictate to you. (Withdraws again.)

GLYSZINSKI (with precipitation). Immediately, madam. (He runs to the right.)

PAUL (raising his finger). You have been warned!

GLYSZINSKI (already at the door on the right). Some other time! I have no time now!

[Goes off, the door closes again and is bolted on the other side.]

PAUL (looks after him, then, after a pause). He is going the same course! (Takes a few steps through the hall, remains standing before the portraits on the wall, looks up at them for a long while, breathes deeply and says, only just audibly): The Warkentins bring no luck!... And they have no luck!...

[He steps across to the spinet which is open, sits down, and softly strikes a number of chords. AUNT CLARA comes in quickly from the right, looks around.]

PAUL (sitting at the spinet). Well, Aunt Clara? (He lowers his hands from the keys.)

AUNT CLARA (cautiously). It is well that you are here, my boy! (She approaches.)

PAUL (absent-minded). Is there anything?...

AUNT CLARA (shaking her head). Why a person can't talk to your wife. And that young man ... There's something about him too. Where in the world are the two now?

PAUL (feigning indifference). There, in the other room, Aunt Clara.

AUNT CLARA. Do you suppose she will hear us?

PAUL. Oh no, Auntie! They are in the green room. The sun-parlor lies between. And then ... when Hella is working, she doesn't hear anyhow.

AUNT CLARA. Those two! I do say! They just have to stay together the whole day! But I was going to say ... Laskowskis ...

PAUL. What about Laskowski?

AUNT CLARA. Wonder whether we ought to send them an announcement?

PAUL. I don't care! Although I do not exactly consider it necessary.

AUNT CLARA. Just on account of the wife.

PAUL. Whose wife?

AUNT CLARA. Well, Mrs. Laskowski. Why, don't you know?

PAUL (turns around). Not a thing! Is Laskowski married?

AUNT CLARA. Why, Paul! Didn't he marry Antonie?

PAUL (recoils). Antoinette ...? Our Antoinette? And I am just finding out about that!

AUNT CLARA. Well, I didn't know whether you cared to hear anything about Antonie.

PAUL (approaches her and speaks to her in an interested manner). Why, Auntie, one is interested in the people who were once near and dear.

AUNT CLARA. Then, you didn't ask about her yesterday!

PAUL. Goodness, Aunt Clara! I didn't want to ask!... After all, I'm finding out soon enough!... Poor Antoinette!... Wasn't she able to find any one else?...

AUNT CLARA. You had been gone a year and a half, Paul, and then they got married.

PAUL (depressed). Well, well ...! That long ago? Then it has really ceased to be news! How does she look? (Bitterly.) I suppose quite...? (He makes a significant derogatory gesture.)

AUNT CLARA. Don't say that, Paul! She can vie with the youngest and most beautiful of them! She is in her very prime now! Just set her over against your wife!

PAUL (embarrassed). Well, well! Hella is not exactly obliged to conceal herself, it seems to me.

AUNT CLARA (eagerly). But oh, you should see Mrs. Laskowski!

PAUL (crabbed). Well, then old Laskowski may thank his stars. How in all the world did Antoinette run into that fellow? I could never bear him!

AUNT CLARA. Have you forgotten every thing Paul? Why, he was forever after her, even when you were still here.

PAUL. Why, he is the greatest crook on God's green earth!

AUNT CLARA. At first Antonie didn't care a thing in the world for him, but later she took him just the same, when it was all over with you.

PAUL (disdainfully). Of course he had his eye on her estate, the sly rogue! I'd vouch for that.

AUNT CLARA (gleefully). Her estate, Grosz-Rukkoschin, went to him right at her marriage. You know that belongs to her from her father's side. You might have that now, Paul.

PAUL (interested). Well, and how do the two get along? He and Antoinette?

AUNT CLARA (shrugging her shoulders). Oh, Paul, what do I know about it? They have no children.

PAUL (relieved). They haven't any children either? Well!

AUNT CLARA. They did have one, a girl! But they lost her.

PAUL. Lost her ... Well, well!... Hm! Antoinette!... Antoinette Rousselle as Mrs. von Laskowski!... Could I have dreamed such a thing when I was a sophomore with old Heliodor! (He shakes his head, burdened with memories, then with a sudden change.) Well, of course, we shall send the Laskowskis an announcement. We'll attend to that at once! (Starts to go.)

AUNT CLARA (holds him by the arm). Never mind, Paul! I have sent it. Yesterday. I was certain it would be all right with you.

PAUL (forced to smile). Well, what do you think of Aunt Clara!...

AUNT CLARA. It's only on account of the neighbors. Now that you are here and they live right next to us, if we should not even invite them to the funeral....

PAUL (absent-minded). Yes, yes, quite right!

AUNT CLARA (searchingly). For you'll have to observe a bit of neighborliness with the estate-owners around here, my boy ...

PAUL (warding off). Oh, Aunt Clara, here's the same old question again!

AUNT CLARA. Now really, Paul, don't you know yet what you are going to do, whether you intend to remain?

PAUL (very seriously). Aunt Clara! I shall never be able to induce Hella. That is becoming clearer and clearer to me!

AUNT CLARA (bolt upright). If Ellernhof is sold, I shall not survive it! I have been here thirty-three years! I have carried you all in my arms, you and your brothers and sisters. All of the rest are dead. You are still here, Paul. I closed your mother's eyes for her. I witnessed the death of your father. In all of my days I have known only Ellernhof. At the cemetery I've selected a place for myself where all of them are lying. Shall I go away now at the very end? At least, wait until I am dead!

PAUL (passionately). Don't make it so desperately hard for me, Aunt Clara!

AUNT CLARA (looking at the walls). Here they all hang on the walls, those who were once active here ...

PAUL, (follows her eyes). Do you hear? The door-bell. (The door-hell rings.)

AUNT CLARA. Callers.

PAUL. Callers! Again!

AUNT CLARA. Probably to express their condolences.

PAUL (impatiently). Just at the most inopportune moment!

AUNT CLARA (listening). I shouldn't be surprised if the Laskowskis were coming!

PAUL (giving a start). Antoinette ...? Why, that ...! And I in my riding boots! Do see who it is!

AUNT CLARA. Why, of course it is! I can hear him from here ... Shall I bring them in, Paul?

PAUL, Can't we take them somewhere else?

AUNT CLARA. Where, pray tell? (She goes to the door on the right.)

PAUL (goes to the door on the left, knocks). Hella, open the door! I want to change my clothes. There are callers.

AUNT CLARA. Why, never mind, you are all right!

PAUL (turns away, resigned to his fate). It wouldn't do any good anyhow. Hella does not hear me. Go ahead then! Bring them right along.

[AUNT CLARA opens the door at the right and goes out. Conversation outside becomes audible.]

PAUL (also comes over to the right, seems to be in great agitation, controls himself nervously, steps upon the threshold at the right and addresses those about to enter). This way, if you please. (He steps aside for ANTOINETTE and LASKOWSKI, and makes a short bow). We are very glad to see you!

LASKOWSKI (seizes both of his hands and shakes them a number of times). Glad to see you, old chap! Think of seeing you again. (He and ANTOINETTE have taken off their wraps outside. He wears a black morning coat and black gloves.)

PAUL (reserved). Unfortunately on a sad occasion!

ANTOINETTE (in a black gown, simple but elegant). Be assured of our heartfelt sympathy, doctor! (She extends the tips of her fingers to him.)

PAUL (somewhat formally). Thank you very much, madam! (His eyes are fastened upon her.)

AUNT CLARA (is the last to enter. She closes the door behind her). Will you not be seated? Antonie, please take the sofa!

PAUL. Yes indeed, madam, please! Or would you prefer to sit at the fire? You have been riding.

ANTOINETTE. Thank you! I am quite warm. I'll sit down here. (She sits down on the sofa and lets her eyes roam about.)

LASKOWSKI. Think of my wife sitting at the fire! It would have to come to a pretty pass! One who knocks about in the open all day long, like her! (He sits down on the chair to the left of the sofa.)

PAUL (under a spell). Do you do that, madam?

ANTOINETTE. Just as it comes! A little horseback, skating ... Whatever winter pastimes there may be!

PAUL (who is still standing at his chair). And in summer?

LASKOWSKI. Oh, in summer something else is doing again! Then there is rowing, fishing and swimming to beat the band!

ANTOINETTE. Fortunately we have the lake right near our place.

PAUL (has been speaking privately to AUNT CLARA). Very well, Auntie, bring us that!

ANTOINETTE. Don't go to any trouble, Miss Clara. We can't stay long.

LASKOWSKI (winks). Well, well, we'll remain a bit longer. I'll still have to go to the inn to take a look at that gelding.

PAUL (beckons to his aunt). So bring it along!

AUNT CLARA. Very well, boysie, I'm going. (Goes off at the right.)

PAUL (sits down in the chair opposite the sofa and becomes absent-minded again). So you have a lake? Where is it? Surely not at Klonowken?

ANTOINETTE. If we only did have that at Klonowken! We have nothing at all there.

LASKOWSKI (joining in with laughter). Heaven knows! The fox and the wolf do the social stunt there!

ANTOINETTE. The lake is at Rukkoschin.

LASKOWSKI (informing him). That is the estate that my dearie brought to me.

PAUL (abruptly). Yes, yes.

LASKOWSKI (laughing). That's a different layout from the sandy blowouts of Klonowken! Prime soil! And a forest, I tell you, cousin! Over two thousand acres! One trunk as fine as another! Each one fit for a ship's mast! If I ever have them cut down! That will put grease into the pan! Yes, yes, Rukkoschin is a catch that's worth while. We did a good job of that, didn't we, dearie? (He laughs at ANTOINETTE slyly.)

PAUL. I suppose, dear Laskowski, that no one has ever doubted your slyness.

LASKOWSKI (strikes his shoulder). Do you see, Doc, now you say so yourself, and at school you gave me the laugh. That fool Laskowski, so you thought, he'll never get beyond pounding sand in a rat-hole. Have I come up a bit in your eyes? How's that, old boy? Shake hands. Pretty damned long since we have met! (He extends his hand to PAUL, who does not seem to notice it.)

ANTOINETTE (who has been biting her lips and looking into space during the words of her husband, suddenly interrupts). We received the announcement this morning, Mr. Warkentin. We thank you very much.

PAUL (reserved). It was no more than our duty, madam. LASKOWSKI. Yes, we were very glad, my wife and I ...

ANTOINETTE (quickly). Not to be forgotten!...

LASKOWSKI. You hit the nail on the head, that's what you did, dearie! You go on and talk. A fellow like myself isn't so handy with his tongue! But he feels it just the same!

PAUL (grimly). Rather sudden, was it not, madam?

ANTOINETTE. The best thing that one can wish for!

PAUL. Do you think so? I don't know.

LASKOWSKI. Of course. Heart failure's the thing to have!

ANTOINETTE. It grieved me very much.

PAUL. Yes, madam.

ANTOINETTE. You see, he was my guardian.

PAUL. I know it.

ANTOINETTE. Of course we had not seen each other for some time ...

LASKOWSKI. Goodness, dearie, that's the way it goes sometimes! This fellow's busy and then that fellow's busy ... It's not like in the city. But everybody knows how you feel about it, just the same. And then if you do meet in the city, or at the stockyards, or somewhere else, the jollification is twice as big. Just lately I met your father in just that way. It's not been four weeks. Met him at the station just as I was going to town. And the old gent crossed my path and acted as if he didn't see me. It was right at the ticket window. Of course, I called him! Good morning, major, says I! Howdy? Chipper, and up and coming as ever? Oh, says he, not particularly! Those very words! I can still see him as he stood there!

ANTOINETTE (incredulously). Why you didn't tell me a thing about that.

LASKOWSKI. Guess I forgot to. Who'd think it would be the last time. When I heard that he was dead, day before yesterday, it came to me again. Then we rode in the same compartment and he kept telling me a lot about you, Doc.

PAUL, (sarcastically). Really?

LASKOWSKI. He was pretty much bothered, what would become of the place, when he'd be dead and gone ...

PAUL. You don't say!

LASKOWSKI. On my honor, Doc.! Expect me to fib to you. Of course I talked him out of it, and told him not to bother about it. First of all that it wasn't up to him yet, and if it was, I was still in the ring.

PAUL. Very kind of you.

LASKOWSKI. With all my heart! You and me, Doc., h'm? We understand each other! We'll come to terms all right. Old chap! Old crony! How tickled I am to see you right here before me again! How often I have said if Paul was only here now. Didn't I, dearie!

ANTOINETTE (gesture of impatience). Yes, yes.

LASKOWSKI. Well, what have you been doing all this time, Doc.?

PAUL. All kinds of things.

LASKOWSKI. Regular old Socrates. It makes a fellow's wheels buzz to think of what he's got in his head all the time! Do you remember, old chap, how you used to help me out when we were juniors?

PAUL. Sophomores, dear Laskowski! You failed to make junior standing.

LASKOWSKI (strikes his fist on the table, in great glee). Damn it all! Did you remember that? I see, old chap, that a fellow has to be on his guard with you.

PAUL (with a determined look). If you think ...



LASKOWSKI. These fellows from Berlin. They are up to snuff! That's the place! If they ever come out into the country, look out, boys. They'll not leave a shirt on your back! Guess you made a good deal of spondulics in Berlin, didn't you, Doc.? (He goes through with the gesture of counting money.)

PAUL (cutting). Why?

LASKOWSKI. Goodness, a fellow will ask about that. You don't need it, of course. Ellernhof is worth sixty, seventy thousand dollars any day, and a fellow can live off of that. If you can only find a buyer ...

PAUL. I haven't the least desire, dear Laskowski.

LASKOWSKI. It's a hard thing too, now-a-days. Buyers are scarce and times are hard for the farmer.

[AUNT CLARA comes from the right, carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and glasses.]

ANTOINETTE. You have gone to all this trouble, after all, Miss Clara.

AUNT CLARA. Not at all worth mentioning! (Sets the things on the table.)

LASKOWSKI (examines the wine-bottle). Why, what have you brought here, Miss?

PAUL. You drink port, don't you, madam?

LASKOWSKI (affectionately). If you don't care for it, dearie, I drink for you.

ANTOINETTE. You may pour me one glass. (She holds out her glass, which PAUL fills.)

LASKOWSKI You're sure it won't hurt you, dearie?

ANTOINETTE. Why should it? I drink on other occasions.

LASKOWSKI. Because you are always getting a headache.

ANTOINETTE (looks at him). I?

LASKOWSKI. Now don't get mad right off! Can't a fellow crack a joke? Don't you see that it's a joke? Drink ahead, dearie! I'm drinking too. And then I must be going too.

PAUL (who has filled all the glasses). Must you; where?

LASKOWSKI (raises his glass and empties it). Of a forenoon, there's nothing up to a glass of port.

PAUL. Why don't you drink, Aunt Clara! (He also drinks.)

AUNT CLARA. Oh, I don't care much for wine, my boy, as you may remember. (She sips a little.)

LASKOWSKI (to ANTOINETTE). Well, did you like it, dearie?

PAUL. May I give you some more, madam?

ANTOINETTE. No, thank you. It would go to my head.

LASKOWSKI (pushes his glass over). I'll take another glass. Then I must be going. (Looks at his watch.) It's a quarter of eleven.

PAUL (fills it). What else have you in mind?

LASKOWSKI. Well, since it just fits in, we being here today, I just want to go over to the inn. They've advertised a gelding there. Take a look at him. If he can be had cheap ... Haven't put one over on anybody for some time! (He laughs, empties the glass and holds it up before him.) Your old gent did invest in a cellar! There ain't a thing, Doc., that I envy you as much as that cellar! (He gets up.)

ANTOINETTE. I shall wait till you return. Come back soon!

LASKOWSKI. On the spot, dearie. I'll only take a vertical whisky over at the inn! Good-by, dearie! Good-by, Doc.! (He goes out at the right.)

AUNT CLARA (has also risen, with a sly look). Mercy, my dinner! You can't depend upon these girls! First thing, it'll be burned. (She hastens out at the right.)

ANTOINETTE. Did you not bring Mrs. Warkentin with you, Doctor?

PAUL (nervously). Yes, Auntie, please tell Lene to go around and tell my wife we have callers. This door is locked. She cannot get through here. (He has risen and walked over to the right.)

AUNT CLARA (going out). Very well, Paul, I shall see to it.

[Goes off. Pause. PAUL stands at the fireplace and stares into the fire. Antoinette has leaned back on the sofa and is gazing into space.]

PAUL (with an effort). You are not cold, are you, madam? Or I will put on some more wood.

ANTOINETTE (without stirring). Not on my account! I am accustomed to the cold.

PAUL (forced). Strange! As hardened as all that.

ANTOINETTE. Completely!

PAUL, (takes a step toward her). Antoinette ...?

ANTOINETTE (motionless). Doctor?

PAUL, (painfully). Once my name was Paul. Don't you remember?

ANTOINETTE. I have forgotten it!

PAUL (controls himself). Well then, madam, may I speak to you?

ANTOINETTE. Will you not call your wife?

PAUL. May I not speak to you?

ANTOINETTE. I don't know what you could have to say.

PAUL. Something that concerns only you and me and not another soul!

ANTOINETTE (gets up). I do not care to hear it. (Takes a few steps into the hall.)

PAUL (seizes her hand). Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE (frees herself). Don't!

PAUL. Then why have you come?

ANTOINETTE. Don't, I tell you!

PAUL. Then why have you come, I ask of you?

ANTOINETTE (stands with her back to him, blurts out). They fairly dragged me here!

PAUL. So you did not come of your own accord?

ANTOINETTE. No!... I should never have come!

PAUL. Antoinette ... Is that the truth?

[Antoinette presses her hand to her face and is silent.]

PAUL (with bowed head). Then to be sure ...!

ANTOINETTE. Why in the world doesn't your wife come in? (She walks toward the window.)

PAUL. Very well! Let her come! (He bites his lips and turns away.)

LENE (appears in the door at the left). Mr. Warkentin ...?

PAUL (startled). What is it?

LENE. Mrs. Warkentin says that she has no time now, she'll come directly.

PAUL. Very well!... You may go!

LENE. Thank you, Mr. Warkentin! (She casts a glance at the two and goes out. Short pause.)

PAUL (with grim humor). As you see, it is not to be, madam!

ANTOINETTE (stands at the window with her back toward the hall). It would seem so. (Presses her face against the panes.)

PAUL (walks to and fro, then approaches her). I have had to endure much, Antoinette, very much!

ANTOINETTE (suppressed). Possibly I have too.

PAUL. Why, Antoinette, you are weeping? (He stands behind her and tries to look into her face.)

ANTOINETTE (wards him off). I? Not at all!

PAUL (heavily). You are weeping, Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE (sinks down). I can't help it. (She surrenders to her pain, but quietly and softly, making her appear all the more touching.)

PAUL (kindly). Come, madam! Let me conduct you to the sofa. (About to take her arm.)

ANTOINETTE (refusing). I can go alone. Why do you concern yourself about me at all?

PAUL. Antoinette! Don't be stubborn at this moment! Our time is short. Who knows whether we shall ever speak to each other again as we now do. (He leads her forward a short distance.)

ANTOINETTE. All the better!

PAUL. Our time is awfully short. I cannot let you go away so! We must make use of the moment! (Bitterly.) The moment that will possibly never return. (He has slowly led her to the front of the stage.)

ANTOINETTE (frees herself violently). Do permit me to go by myself! I do not need you! I need no one!

PAUL (bitterly). Very well! I shall not molest you! As you please!

ANTOINETTE (sits down in the chair at the left of the sofa, seems composed again). You see I am quite calm. It was only a temporary indisposition.

PAUL (coaxing). May I sit down near you, Antoinette?

ANTOINETTE. What have you to say to me?

PAUL, (sits down in the chair before her, looks at her squarely, then, after a moment of devoted contemplation). I am forced to look at you, Antoinette! Pardon me! I am forced to look at you again and again!

ANTOINETTE. Do save up these compliments for your wife, doctor!

PAUL (with growing excitement). No compliments, Antoinette! The moment is too precious!

ANTOINETTE. Then why don't you spare yourself the trouble?

PAUL. Didn't you feel it, the very moment you came in, Antoinette; I could not keep away from you.

ANTOINETTE. Quite flattering!

PAUL. Antoinette! Now you must listen to me to the very end.

ANTOINETTE. Goodness! What do you expect of me?

PAUL. Or you should not have come!

ANTOINETTE. Why in the world did I do it?

PAUL (fervently, but in an undertone). Antoinette! You are so wonderful! More wonderful than I have ever seen you before!

ANTOINETTE (sarcastically). Oh, indeed ...! Possibly you are even sorry.

PAUL (straightens up, harshly). For shame, madam. Such expressions are not suited to you! Leave them to others!

ANTOINETTE (passionately). Your own fault! You have brought mo to this!

PAUL (painfully). You have become unfeeling, Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE. I am simply no longer that stupid little creature that you can wind around your finger as once upon a time. Do you still remember that Christmas Eve, Doctor Warkentin?

PAUL. I remember it all, Antoinette. Why on that evening my life was decided.

ANTOINETTE. So was mine. In this very hall. I sat at this very place and you before me as now. There is such a thing as providence. I have always believed in that! But now I see it with my own eyes. God in heaven will not be mocked! On my knees I have prayed to him ...!

PAUL (frightened). Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE (furiously). On my knees I prayed for him to punish you.

PAUL. Toinette, you are mad! What awful injury did I inflict upon you?

ANTOINETTE (Scornfully). You upon me? Oh, none at all! Did you know about me at all? You scorned me! What, that stupid little thing wants me, the great man! Who am I and what is she! Off with her.

PAUL. Toinette!

ANTOINETTE (filled with hatred). Yes, off with her. And I did throw myself away! I knew all the time it would spell misfortune for me if I married this ... this man.

PAUL (starts up). Is that the way matters stand?

ANTOINETTE. Yes, indeed, that's the way they stand. I don't think of making a secret of it. The whole world knows it. It is shouted from the house-tops!

PAUL (clenches his fists). The dog!

ANTOINETTE. It's easy for you to use strong terms now. You hounded me into it! I owe it all to you. But one consolation has remained for me. I have become unhappy. But so are you! And that is why I have come.

PAUL (straightens up). What does this mean, Antoinette?

ANTOINETTE. Heavens! Simple enough! You do take an interest in the woman that has been preferred to you. You would like to make the acquaintance of such a marvel.

PAUL (offended). You are malicious, madam!

ANTOINETTE. Not at all. I only wanted to see, with my own eyes, how happy you are. But I am quite sufficiently informed. One only needs to take a look at you.

PAUL (painfully). Are you satisfied now?

ANTOINETTE (from the bottom of her heart). Yes.

PAUL. Are you compelled to detest me?

ANTOINETTE. Do you expect me to thank you?

PAUL (fervently). Does it really make you happy to talk to me in this manner, Antoinette?

ANTOINETTE. Happy or not, what I have vowed before the altar, I shall not fail to keep.

PAUL (earnestly and sadly). I am the last person to hinder you, Toinette! But I surely may look at you? Will you forbid that?

ANTOINETTE (struggling with herself). Don't talk to me in this manner!

PAUL (excited). Just look into your face, Antoinette, the few moments that remain! Stamp upon my mind how much I have lost! Look into your eyes, just once more! Into your wonderful eyes!

ANTOINETTE (jumps up). Don't talk to me in this manner, I say. I haven't deserved it!

PAUL (has also risen, seizes her hand). Antoinette, I have found none of the things that I was seeking. I have been miserably deceived! Are you satisfied now?

[ANTOINETTE sinks back into her chair, begins to sob spasmodically.]

PAUL (wildly). Why aren't you glad? (He strides through the hall.)

[ANTOINETTE chokes down her sobs.]

PAUL (comes back again, bows down to her). Weep, Antoinette! Weep! I wish I could. (He softly presses a kiss upon her hair). [Silence.]

ANTOINETTE (jumps up). I must go! Where is my husband? I must have fresh air! My head! (She looks crazed.)

PAUL (takes her arm). Yes, fresh air, Toinette, there we shall feel less constraint. It is fine outside, the snow is falling. Everything is white. Everything is old. Just as both of us have become, Toinette.

ANTOINETTE (leaning on him). I am so afraid! So terribly afraid!

PAUL (leading her to the door). You will feel better. Snow is soothing. Come and I will tell you about my life. Possibly you will forgive me then, Antoinette? (He looks at her imploringly and extends his hand to her).

ANTOINETTE (hesitates a moment, then opening her eyes widely she lays her hand in his). Possibly!...

PAUL (happy). Thank you, Toinette! Thank you!... And now come.

ANTOINETTE (on his arm, sadly). Where shall we go?

PAUL. To the park, Toinette, to the brook, do you remember, to the alders?

ANTOINETTE (nods). To the alders, I remember.

PAUL. Out into the snow, to seek our childhood.

[He slowly leads her out at the right.]



ACT III

The same hall as on the preceding days. The two corners in the foreground, on the right the fireplace with its chairs, on the left the sofa and other furniture are both separated from the centre and background of the hall by means of a rectangular arrangement of oleanders in pots, thus affording two separate cozy corners, between whose high borders of oleander a somewhat narrow passage leads to the background. A banquet board in the form of a horseshoe, the sides of which run to the rear and are hidden by the oleanders. The centre, forming the head of the board, is plainly visible from the passage. It is almost noon. Dim light, reflected from the snow outside, comes in through the middle window of the back wall, a view of which is afforded through the opening in the centre. The snowflakes flutter down drearily as on the previous day. The fire now and then casts a red light upon the oleanders, which separate the space surrounding the fireplace from the background. AUNT CLARA, in mourning as before, and LENE, also dressed in black, are busy at the table, which has been set. They move to and fro arranging plates, glasses and bottles. After a moment.

AUNT CLARA (comes forward in the direction of the passage, inspects the whole arrangement and speaks to LENE who is occupied in the background, where she cannot be seen). Are all of the knives and forks properly arranged back there?

LENE (not visible). Everything's in order, Miss Clara.

AUNT CLARA. Why, then we are through.

LENE. They can come right along now.

AUNT CLARA. I can't help but think that it's time for the bell. (The old clock in the corridor outside begins to strike.)

LENE (has come forward). It's striking twelve.

AUNT CLARA. You're certain, are you, that the roast is being basted properly?

LENE. Oh, Lizzie's looking after things.

AUNT CLARA. The sermon seems to be pretty long.

LENE. Oh, he can never find his finish. Miss Clara.

AUNT CLARA. Let him talk, for all I care! Only I might have put off the dinner.

LENE (listens). Now the bell is ringing. (Distant, indistinct tones of a church bell are heard.)

AUNT CLARA (also listens). Yes, they are ringing. Then it is over. (She folds her hands as if in prayer.)

LENE (timidly). Now the coffin's in the ground, ain't it, Miss Clara?

AUNT CLARA (murmurs). God grant him eternal peace!

LENE (also with hands folded). Amen!

AUNT CLARA (continues murmuring). And light everlasting shine for him!

LENE (as before). Amen!

AUNT CLARA (partly to herself). I should have been glad to pay him the last honor, but it was impossible. What would have become of the roast? We shall see each other in the next world anyhow. It will not be very long!

LENE (comforting her). Oh, Miss Clara.

AUNT CLARA (seizes her arm). Don't stand there! Do your work! They will surely be here directly, (Counts the places.) Six ... eight ... twelve ... sixteen ... eighteen ... twenty ... twenty-two ...

LENE. That's the number. There are eight sleighs.

AUNT CLARA. Go and open the door of the green room!

LENE (goes off to the left). What will Mrs. Warkentin say to that?

AUNT CLARA. I will attend to that. It can't be helped today. We shall have to use the rooms for our coffee later.

LENE (returns). She'll make a nice fuss!

AUNT CLARA. Off with you now. They are coming. Take the ladies and gentlemen into the front rooms until we have the dinner on the table. Then you can go and call them.

LENE. Very well, Miss Clara. (Quickly off to the right.)

[Short pause, during which AUNT CLARA stands listening. Then HELLA enters from the right, dressed in black.]

HELLA (with a quick glance to the left, then to AUNT CLARA who has retreated to the background). What is the matter with my room? Why are the doors open?

AUNT CLARA. The guests certainly must have some place where they can relax a bit, later on.

HELLA (nonplussed). In my rooms?

AUNT CLARA. They surely can't sit around in this one place the whole afternoon. They must take their coffee somewhere.

HELLA (from the left). Why I do say ...! Really! All of my books are gone!

AUNT CLARA (indifferently). I put things to rights a bit, madam. Why I couldn't leave them as they were. I took the books upstairs.

HELLA. Upstairs! Very well, then that's where I will go. (Starts out toward the right.)

PAUL (enters and runs into HELLA). Where are you going?

HELLA. I am going upstairs.

PAUL. Where are you going!

HELLA. Upstairs. I can't find a nook down here today where I might rest.

PAUL. So you really refuse to dine with us?

HELLA (places her hand on his arm). Spare me the agony, Paul! You know I can't endure so many strangers. It will give me a headache.

PAUL. Stay a short time at least! Show that much consideration!

HELLA (retreats a step). Consideration ... No one shows me any consideration!

PAUL (pacing up and down). Nice mess, when not even the nearest relatives ...

HELLA. Why, you are to be present.

PAUL. But you must be present! I desire it, Hella!

HELLA. And what if I simply cannot?

PAUL (plants himself before her). Why not?

HELLA. Because I cannot. Because I hate these feeds!

PAUL (more calmly). That is correct. So do I! But what can we do about it? It is the custom.

HELLA. Custom, Paul, custom!... Have we founded our life upon old customs?

PAUL (embittered). If we only had!

HELLA (looks at him sharply). Do you think so?

PAUL. Yes, possibly we should have fared better.

HELLA (very emphatically). And then, my dear, I will tell you one thing more. You are compelling me to do so.

PAUL. And that is?

HELLA. I don't care to lie.

PAUL. What do you mean by that?

HELLA. I don't care to feign, to these people, feelings that are entirely absent. That is why I am going upstairs.

PAUL (very calmly). Does that refer to ... the dead?

HELLA. Yes, it does! I did not know him and he did not know me! Did not care to know me. What obligations remain for me? None at all.

PAUL. Are you serious?

HELLA (bolt upright). In all seriousness. Now it is out.

PAUL (quite calm). Very well, then go!

HELLA. I'll see you later. (She goes toward the right.)

PAUL (struggles for composure, then suddenly). Hella! For my sake ... Do not go. Stay here!

HELLA (turns to him). No, Paul, one should not force himself to do such things. Put the responsibility upon your father! I am not to blame. I am only acting as I must. You would do the same. [Off at the right.]

PAUL (beside himself). It's well that you are reminding me of that.

AUNT CLARA (approaches). Shall I remove your wife's plate?

PAUL. Yes, take the plate away.

AUNT CLARA. Have you seen the Laskowskis?

PAUL. Yes, at the cemetery, Auntie. I shall go now and call the guests. (Goes off.)

[AUNT CLARA walks toward the right, shaking her head, then pulls the bell.]

LENE (comes in from the right, behind the scene). What is it. Miss Clara?

AUNT CLARA. Have the soup brought in! It will take me some time to fill all of the plates, anyhow.

LENE. Very well!

AUNT CLARA. Now where are you to serve? And where is the coachman to serve? You haven't forgotten?

LENE. I am to serve on the right and the coachman on the left. Is that right?

AUNT CLARA. Yes, you may go! And don't forget, all serving is to be done by way of the green room! Be sure not to come in from this side! [LENE goes off.]

[AUNT CLARA retires to the background, where she is occupied for some time, without being very much in evidence. The door at the right is opened.]

PAUL (still hidden to view). Come in, ladies and gentlemen! In this way! (VON TIEDEMANN, MRS. VON TIEDEMANN, DR. BODENSTEIN, RAABE, father and son, MERTENS, KUNZE, MRS. BOROWSKI, SCHNAASE, MRS. SCHNAASE, JOSUPEIT, LICENTIATE SCHROCK and others enter and dispose themselves in groups before and behind the Oleanders.)

RAABE, SR. (puts his hand up to his side). I don't know, but that cemetery put a stitch into my side.

SCHNAASE. Yes, that was a nasty, cold snow. If we only get something to eat soon!... So we can warm up!

VON TIEDEMANN. Ought to be a bit careful of yourself at your age, Mr. Raabe!

RAABE. Why, how old am I? Seventy!

VON TIEDEMANN. Not worth mentioning, eh? Prime of life!... How old was Warkentin?

SCHNAASE. Why we just heard about that in the sermon, sixty-two!

VON TIEDEMANN. Not very old!

RAABE. Yes, that's the way they go ...

SCHNAASE. To the grand army, eh Raabe, old boy? Who knows when we will get our orders.

RAABE. It will be our turn next.

VON TIEDEMANN. Don't say that! It is not a matter of age! Look at Warkentin, did he give evidence of his end?

SCHNAASE. The affair with his son put him over, or he would be here today.

VON TIEDEMANN (looks around). Why, where is the young man?

SCHNAASE. Pretty nice fellow in other respects!

VON TIEDEMANN. He will have a deuce of a time if he intends to farm here. You can't pick that up helter skelter. Has any one heard? Does he intend to take it on? Or is he going to sell?

[He turns toward the rear. Meanwhile ANTOINETTE, PAUL, AND GLYSZINSKI have entered from the right and have joined a group of guests in the background.]

RAABE. In the old days the son always followed in the footsteps of his father. The son of a land-owner became a land-owner. That's all out of style now. Everybody goes to school.

SCHNAASE. Well, your son is doing that very thing, Raabe.

RAABE, JR. (has come forward). Good morning, Mr. Schnaase!

SCHNAASE. Good morning, brother student!

RAABE, JR. Well, pa?

RAABE. Well, my son?

SCHNAASE. Keeping right after beerology, young man?

RAABE, JR. Purty well, thanks! A fellow guzzles his way through.

SCHNAASE. How many semesters does this make, Mr. Raabe?

RAABE, JR. Mebbie you'd better not ask about that.

RAABE. How many semesters? Twelve! Isn't that it, my son?

RAABE, JR. Astoundingly correct!

SCHNAASE. Then I suppose you'll tackle the examinations one of these days, Mr. Raabe?

RAABE, JR. There's plenty of time.

RAABE. Just let him study his fill! I'm not at all in favor of too much hurry! He'll get office and emoluments soon enough.

SCHNAASE. I know one thing, my boy will not get into a gymnasium! The agricultural school for him, till he can qualify for the one year's service and off with him. No big notions for him!

RAABE (holds his side). Outch, there's my stitch again!

RAABE, JR. Take a whisky, pa! Shall I get us a couple?

RAABE. A few fingers might not do any harm.

SCHNAASE. Have the girl before you kiss her, according to Lehmann.[A]

[Footnote A: Nickname of Emperor William I, who according to popular report took an interest in girls.]

RAABE, JR. What'll you bet? I can get some! (He hastens to the rear.)

RAABE. Divvel of a fellow!

SCHNAASE. Well now, I'd just like to see. (Both of them follow RAABE, JR. to the rear.)

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN and MRS. SCHNAASE come from the left arm in arm.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (with a glance at the arrangements). That is not exactly extraordinary.

MRS. SCHNAASE. Oh, I don't know, Elizabeth, I find it quite pretty.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. And the wife does not seem to be much in evidence.

MRS. SCHNAASE. Yes, she seems a bit high toned.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Quite a bit. I wonder what kind of notions she has about the society that she has encountered here!

MRS. SCHNAASE. Do you think they will stay here?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Such creatures blow in from Berlin, puff up like a turkey gobbler. I'd hate to know about her past!

MRS. SCHNAASE. Mrs. Laskowski looks pretty interesting today.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Do you think so? Well, perhaps she has her reasons.

MRS. SCHNAASE. You don't say! Do tell.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Don't you know about it at all?

MRS. SCHNAASE. Why no, what? I don't get out very much, you know.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. It was before your day. You were not here then. I have a dim recollection, when I was quite a young girl.

MRS. SCHNAASE (all ear, seizes her arm). Is it possible? What was it?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (subdued). She had an affair with him ...

MRS. SCHNAASE. With whom, pray tell?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. The man with whom she is standing there.

MRS. SCHNAASE. Why that is young Mr. Warkentin.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Pst. They are coming. (Quite subdued.) Later she married her husband out of spite, because she did not get him!

MRS. SCHNAASE (squints curiously at ANTOINETTE). To think that she would still talk to him!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Heavens, what does she care! (To DR. BODENSTEIN, who is quietly conversing with MERTENS at the fireplace.) Doctor, just a word!

DR. BODENSTEIN. At your service, madam! (He straightens up promptly and hastens to her.)

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. I only wanted to ask about a trifling matter, Doctor.

DR. BODENSTEIN. I shall be delighted, madam.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. But no one must hear us. (Both disappear to the rear.)

MERTENS (has also stepped out from the recess of the fireplace, to MRS. SCHNAASE). If you are willing to put up with me for the present, madam?

MRS. SCHNAASE. Oh, thank you very much! But I might ...

MERTENS. Please, please, madam! May I offer you my arm? (He takes her arm.)

JOSUPEIT (has rushed up to the two from the background). Too late! Just my luck! I was about to report!

MERTENS. You will have to get up a bit earlier the next time, my dear fellow; I shall take you to the table, madam.

JOSUPEIT (from the other side). Take me to the table dear, good madam! I'll tell you something quite interesting too.

PAUL (has come forward with ANTOINETTE). We shall eat immediately, Mr. Mertens.

MERTENS. Please, please, as concerns me! (He escorts MRS. SCHNAASE.)

JOSUPEIT (catches sight of PAUL, suddenly assumes a funereal air). My heartfelt sympathy, Mr. Warkentin! (He seizes his hand and shakes it.)

PAUL, (reserved). I thank you! JOSUPEIT (is silent for a moment, then continues). Another man of honor gone. (PAUL nods silently. JOSUPEIT again after a brief silence.) Terribly sudden!

PAUL (nods again and says). But I must not detain you, Mr. Josupeit!

JOSUPEIT. Once more, my heartfelt sympathy!

[JOSUPEIT and the rest go off to the rear.]

PAUL (to ANTOINETTE who has stepped forward to the right near the fireplace). You see, madam, that's the way of it! Just back from the cemetery. One buried forever, and the next moment all of their thoughts somewhere else. Joyous and of good cheer.

ANTOINETTE (stares into the fire, bitterly). Yes, that's the way of it!

PAUL. Life rolls on merrily. The dead are dead. We shall have the same fate some day, madam.

ANTOINETTE. Of course we shall. It is immaterial to me.

PAUL (looks at her). Really?

ANTOINETTE. It does not matter to me, whether it comes today or tomorrow. Sometime I shall have to go! So the quicker the better. It is all over with me!

PAUL. Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE. You may believe me, I am quite serious!

PAUL (completely absorbed, as he looks at her). How calmly you say that! In the very bloom of life! I cannot think of you thus.

ANTOINETTE. How?

PAUL. Cold and dead.

ANTOINETTE. But I can. Very well indeed. I am so now!

PAUL. That isn't true, Antoinette. Your eyes tell a different story!

ANTOINETTE (shrugging her shoulders). Never mind my eyes!

PAUL. But I can't help it. I must look into them! I feel as if I must find something there.

ANTOINETTE (turning away). Don't go to any trouble!

PAUL. Indeed, indeed, Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE. What in the world could you find?

PAUL. ... Possibly my lost life?

ANTOINETTE (excited). Why do you speak so to me, Paul?

PAUL. Do I hear it from your lips, Paul, Paul, as of old?

ANTOINETTE (frightened). Paul! Paul! Desist!

PAUL. It has been a long time since I have heard that sound!

ANTOINETTE. Desist, at least for today, I beg of you! It seems like a sin to me!

PAUL. Why like a sin?

ANTOINETTE. You were just remarking about the rest, and now you are doing the same thing, forgetting the dead.

PAUL. I—forget him? I am thinking of him incessantly! And of his last words, before we parted forever! Do you know what they were, Toinette?

ANTOINETTE (subdued). Tell me!

PAUL. "Go! Some day you will be sorry!" ... Possibly he was right, the dear old man! Today it kept resounding from his open grave, as the clods and lumps of snow rumbled down on his coffin. "Are you sorry now? Are you sorry now?" ... I have tried to get rid of it, but it refuses to go. It keeps pursuing me and cries into my ears!

LASKOWSKI (has approached the two). Well, dearie, how are you? What are you doing?

ANTOINETTE (turns around, as if recoiling from something poisonous). Oh, it's you!

LASKOWSKI. Who would it be? Ain't it up to me to look after my dearie now and then. Shan't we eat? They are all sitting down.

PAUL (has become composed). Your husband is quite right, madam. We are the last. Unfortunately Mrs. Warkentin is not very well. May I request you to play the part of the hostess a bit?

ANTOINETTE (distressed). If it must be, Doctor ...

PAUL (looks at her). Yes, there is no help for it, madam. (Escorts her through the passage to the table.)

LASKOWSKI (following them). And I, old boy. Where am I to go?

PAUL (grimly). Wherever you please! The world is wide and there is room for all. (He leads Antoinette around the table to her place.)

LASKOWSKI. I guess the shortest way is the best! I'm going to sit right here. (He sits down beside MRS. VON TIEDEMANN, all the rest have also gradually taken their places. The order at the visible central portion of the table is as follows, from left to right: Outside, KUNZE, LASKOWSKI, MRS. VON TIEDEMANN, DIRECTOR MERTENS, MRS. SCHNAASE; opposite these inside, MRS. BOROWSKI, PAUL, ANTOINETTE, MR. VON TIEDEMANN, DR. BODENSTEIN. During the whole of the following scene they are eating and drinking. LENE and FRITZ, in livery, move to and fro, serving. AUNT CLARA comes in and goes out as the occasion demands. She has her seat with those who are hidden and whose voices are only heard at times. At first the conversation remains subdued.)

KUNZE (rises). Ladies and gentlemen! Before sitting down at the board, to regale ourselves with food and drink, does it not involve upon us to devote a few words to the memory of the beloved deceased, whose mortal remains we have today conducted to the last resting place. And how can we do that more fittingly, ladies and gentlemen, than by recalling the words recorded in holy writ. Ladies and gentlemen, what are the words of the psalmist? The days of our years are three-score years and ten; and if, by reason of strength, they be four-score years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly away! Ladies and gentlemen! He who no longer dwells in our midst in the body, but whose spirit is looking down upon all of us, the beloved deceased, may he rest in peace.

[Silence. Short pause as they continue to eat.]

LASKOWSKI (the first to finish his soup, leans back). A soup like that does warm a fellow up.

VON TIEDEMANN. Especially when you have been out in your sleigh for nearly two hours.

LASKOWSKI. And then a full hour at the cemetery on top of it.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (quickly). But the sermon was really touching. From the very heart. Any one who had known the dead man ...

LASKOWSKI. Not a soul kept from crying!

VON TIEDEMANN. Yes, remarkably beautiful!

LASKOWSKI. A fellow forgot all about being hungry.

MRS. BOROWSKI (leans over to PAUL). Are they talking about the sermon?

PAUL (aloud). Yes, Mrs. Borowski.

MRS. BOROWSKI. I didn't understand very much.

PAUL (courteously). At your age, Mrs. Borowski!

MERTENS (in an undertone to MRS. VON TIEDEMANN). Who is she?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. It's the widow of the former teacher at the estate here.

MERTENS. She seems to hail from the days of the French occupation!

VON TIEDEMANN. Does she? She has at least eighty years on her back.

MERTENS. But is well preserved.

MRS. BOROWSKI (to PAUL). I say, Mr. Warkentin, I knew your father when he was no bigger than ... (Holding her hand not far from the ground.)

PAUL (subdued). Fifty years ago?

MRS. BOROWSKI. Oh, it's longer than that. Almost sixty. I saw them all grow up. Now I'm almost the only one left from those times.

LASKOWSKI (leans over toward her with his glass). Well, here's to you Auntie!... You don't drink very much any more I suppose? (He drinks.)

MRS. BOROWSKI. Oh, indeed! I am still able to take a glass.

PAUL. Come, Mrs. Borowski, let me help you. (He fills her glass.)

MRS. BOROWSKI. When I was young I never caught sight of wine. Now that I'm old I have more than I can drink.

LASKOWSKI. Drink ahead, Auntie! Drink ahead! Wine makes you young!

MRS. BOROWSKI. You know, your good wife is always sending me some.

LASKOWSKI (nonplussed). I do say, dearie, why, I don't know a thing about that.

[ANTOINETTE silently shrugs her shoulders and casts a quick glance at him.]

LASKOWSKI (friendly again). Makes no difference, dearie, no difference at all! Just send ahead! We do have a lot of it.

ANTOINETTE. There is surely enough for us to spare a little for an old lady.

LASKOWSKI. Sure, dearie!

MRS. BOROWSKI (leans over to ANTOINETTE). Do you remember, pet, how you used to come and call with your parents, now dead and gone? A little bit of a thing you were, Paul would lift you on the horse and you didn't cry at all, you sat there just like a grown-up ... I remember it very well.

ANTOINETTE. I don't. Such things are forgotten.

PAUL (looks at her). Have you really forgotten that, madam?

ANTOINETTE. Heavens, I haven't thought of it again.

MRS. BOROWSKI. Just wait and see, pet, when you are old you will think of it again.

ANTOINETTE. Not all people grow to be as old as you, dear Mrs. Borowski.

LASKOWSKI (has partaken freely of the wine). Dearie, you'll grow as old as the hills! I can prophesy that much. Haven't you the finest kind of a time!

ANTOINETTE. I?... Of course!

LASKOWSKI (garrulously). What do you lack!... Nuthin'!... Children's what you lack!

ANTOINETTE (looks at him sharply). Never mind, please!

LASKOWSKI (abashed). Well, well, don't put on so, dearie!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (to PAUL). Have you any children, Doctor?

PAUL. No, I'm sorry to say, madam.

MR. VON TIEDEMANN (to his wife). We're better off in that respect, Bess, aren't we? Three lusty bairns!

MRS. SCHNAASE. And we, with our five!

LASKOWSKI (touched). Do you see, dearie! What am I always tellin' you! An agriculturalist without children ...

KUNZE. Abraham scored one hundred when the Lord bestowed his son Isaac upon him.

LASKOWSKI. But a fellow like me can't wait that long—stuff and nonsense. What if I die and ...

PAUL. You will take care not to do that.

LASKOWSKI. Don't say that, brother! I'm going to die young! I'm sure of it. An old woman once told my fortune, and she said I wouldn't see more than fifty. But, do you know what, dearie?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (to ANTOINETTE). I suppose you frequently came to Ellernhof in the old days, Madam von Laskowski?

ANTOINETTE. Why, the departed was my guardian, you know, Mrs. Von Tiedemann.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Oh yes. I had forgotten that.

VON TIEDEMANN. Do you ride horseback as much as ever, madam?

ANTOINETTE. Now and then, for pastime!

LASKOWSKI. Now don't you say a word, dearie! Why, you're pasted on a horse all day long, and then from horseback right into the cold, cold water. Did anybody ever hear the like of it?

PAUL (to ANTOINETTE). Yesterday I had a horseback ride again too, madam. Have I told you about it? The first time in years. And, what is more, I got quite near your place. I was even able to see the houses of Klonowken.

ANTOINETTE. Did you ride through the forest?

PAUL. Of course, through the pine forest of Klonowken, yesterday morning. Right through the snow.

ANTOINETTE. Why, I was out at the same time.

PAUL (looks at her). You were, madam? Too bad! Why did we not chance to meet?

ANTOINETTE. I suppose it was not ordained so.

LASKOWSKI (after drinking again). I say, dearie, one of these days when I die, do you know what I'll do?

MERTENS. If one of us dies, I'll go to Karlsbad, eh, Laskowski?

LASKOWSKI. Listen, dearie! You'll inherit all I have an' marry another fellow!

PAUL (sternly). Control yourself a bit, Laskowski.

LASKOWSKI (undaunted). Ain't that true, dearie? Tell me that you'll come to my grave! Promise me that much, dearie! Then I'll die easy. You'll come along and sit down and cry a few tearies on my grave. (He chokes down his tears and drinks again.)

VON TIEDEMANN (has also been drinking freely). Well, here's to our friend, departed in his prime. (He raises his glass to LASKOWSKI.)

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (disapprovingly). Why, Fritz!

VON TIEDEMANN (collecting himself). H'm! Well ... Didn't think of that. One forgets. Pardon me!

ANTOINETTE. Will you not help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen? (To LENE, who is just passing with dishes in her hands.) Serve around once more!

VON TIEDEMANN (helps himself). My favorite dish, veal-roast!... (To BODENSTEIN.) What do you say, Doctor, you are so quiet?

DR. BODENSTEIN. Do whatever you do, with a will! I am now devoting myself to culinary delights!

MERTENS. I regard this sauce a phenomenal achievement.

MRS. SCHNAASE. There are tomatoes in it, I think.

MERTENS. I must ask for the recipe.

RAABE, JUNIOR'S (voice in the background). Here's to you!

VOICES (in confusion, in the background). Here's to you! Your health!

LASKOWSKI (gets up, raises his glass toward the background). Here's to everybody!

VOICES (from behind). Here's to you, Laskowski!

SCHROCK'S (voice). Here's to you, old rough-neck!

PAUL. Don't drink so much, Laskowski! (ANTOINETTE bites her lips and looks away.)

LASKOWSKI (whispering). Let me drink, brother! Drink and forget your pain, says Schiller. Ain't that it, old chap, ain't it, now? You're a kind of a poet yourself, ain't you?

VON TIEDEMANN (in an undertone, to MERTENS). He's tanking up again!

ANTOINETTE (to PAUL, through her teeth). Awful!

PAUL (in an undertone). Oh, don't mind him.

LASKOWSKI. Let me drink, old fellow. I'm not going to live long anyhow. It's on my chest ... Do you hear it rattle, old boy? Listen! Just listen! Listen to me, not to my dearie. When we're dead, we're out of it! We'll not get another drop! An' then we'll sleep till judgment day in the pitch-dark grave. Then you'll be rid of me, dearie!

ANTOINETTE (gets up). Excuse me, Doctor!

PAUL (also jumps up). Are you ill, madam?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (moves aside). Now it is getting a bit uncanny.

MRS. BOROWSKI (her hand at her ear). Are they talking about the judgment day?

KUNZE (who eats away lustily, partly to himself). On the judgment day when the Lord will return to judge the quick and the dead.

PAUL (to ANTOINETTE, who partly leans upon him). How are you, Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE (has become composed again). I am all right again.

MRS. SCHNAASE. Would you like a glass of water?

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Yes, water!

ANTOINETTE. No, thank you! This awful heat!... Don't let me disturb you.

[The conversation which had become very loud is carried on in a more subdued manner. All are whispering to each other.]

PAUL, Shall I take you out, madam?

ANTOINETTE (with a supreme effort). No, thank you, I shall remain! (Sits down again.)

LASKOWSKI (with a stupid stare). Just stay here, dearie! Just stay here!

PAUL. Now do be quiet, Laskowski. (Also sits down again.)

LASKOWSKI Ain't I quiet, brother? Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet as the grave! Damn it all. I wonder how your father feels now.

KUNZE. We are happy, but he is happier.

ANTOINETTE (frantically controlling herself). Help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen! Mr. von Tiedemann, don't be backward!

VON TIEDEMANN. I'm getting my share.

MERTENS. So am I. I don't let things affect my appetite.

LASKOWSKI (singing half audibly). Jinks, do you have to die, young as you are ... young as ...

MRS. BOROWSKI (to PAUL). Now it has come, just as the departed always wished.

PAUL. How so, Mrs. Borowski?

MRS. BOROWSKI. That you would be back, Paul, and that everything about the estate would go right on as before! If he could only look down upon that.

PAUL (nervously). Yes!

VON TIEDEMANN (leans over to PAUL). Settled fact is it, Mr. Warkentin? Really going to get into the harness?

LASKOWSKI (pricking up his ears). Can't do it, old chap! Come on!... Can't begin to do it!

PAUL. I do intend to, Mr. von Tiedemann.

VON TIEDEMANN. Well, you'd better think that over! Not every one can match your father as an agriculturalist.

PAUL. With a little honest effort ...

VON TIEDEMANN. If that were all! To begin with, you can't match your father physically. You have to be accustomed to such things. In all kinds of weather! And then ... No child's play to farm now-a-days! Starvation prices for grain! Simply a shame! If that continues I'll vouch that all this blooming farming will go to the devil within twenty years!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (shaking her head). To think of having you speak that way, Fritz!

VON TIEDEMANN. Of course, if a fellow has a few pennies to fall back on, it's not so bad. But how many are there who have. The rest will go broke!

LASKOWSKI (hums again). The Count of Luxemburg has squandered all his cash ... cash ... cash ...

VON TIEDEMANN (eagerly). And who will have the advantage? The few who have money. They will buy for a song and some day, when times are better again, they will sell for twice as much. Some day they are likely to roll in wealth!

LASKOWSKI (as before). Has squandered all his cash ... In one old merry night ... ha, ha!

ANTOINETTE (leans back in her chair). My husband is no longer conscious of what he is saying!

LASKOWSKI. Me? Not conscious?... Don't I know. Word for word! Shall I tell you, dearie? What you said and what I said and what Paul said to you ... Antoinette, how are you?... How are you Antoinette? (Short laugh.) Well, do I know, dearie? Did I hold on to it?

PAUL. One must excuse you in your condition.

VON TIEDEMANN. Don't worry about him, madam. He's one of these fellows with a big purse. He may chuckle! I can foresee that he will buy up the whole county some day!

LASKOWSKI. Just what I'll do. What's the price of the world! Five bits a fling!... We can still raise that much. The more foolish the farmer, the bigger his spuds!

MERTENS. His sugar-beets!

LASKOWSKI. I say, boys!... Do you know how many tons of sugar-beets I raised to the acre! Last round?

VON TIEDEMANN. Now, don't Spread it on!

LASKOWSKI (jumps up). Fellows! My word of honor! I'm not lying! Thirty-five tons an acre! Who can match that? Nobody can! I can! I'm a devil of a fellow, I've always said so, ain't I, dearie? You know! (He strikes his chest and sits down.)

VON TIEDEMANN. Thirty-five ton per acre! Ridiculous!

MERTENS. I can honestly swear to the contrary!

LASKOWSKI. And your dad, I tell you he was mad! He just couldn't look at me! But I don't bear him any grudge! I'm a man of honor! Shake hands, old chap! You say so, ain't I a man of honor? Put 'er there! Man of honor face to face with man of honor. But you must look at me, man alive! Or I won't believe you! (He extends his hand over to PAUL.)

PAUL (negative gesture). Never mind! Just believe me.

LASKOWSKI (looks at ANTOINETTE). Dearie, don't make such a face! Eat! Eat!... So you can get strong, so you can survive your poor Heliodor! (All except PAUL and ANTOINETTE laugh.)

DR. BODENSTEIN (to MERTENS). Incipient delirium!

[MRS. VON TIEDEMANN whispers something into MERTENS' ear.]

PAUL (to ANTOINETTE). You really haven't taken a thing, madam!

ANTOINETTE. I am not hungry. But will the ladies and gentlemen not take something more? A little more of the dessert, perhaps.

VON TIEDEMANN. No, thanks, madam! I can't eat another thing! Not if I try! Or I'll burst!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN (reproachfully). Fritz!

DR. BODENSTEIN. Albumen! Fat! Carbo-hydrates! In hoc signo vinces.

MERTENS. And now a little cup of coffee!

VON TIEDEMANN. And a cock-tail!

DR. BODENSTEIN. To retard metabolism!

PAUL. The coffee will be here directly!

[AUNT CLARA appears upon the scene and talks to ANTOINETTE in an undertone.]

LASKOWSKI (who has been dozing, wakes up again, takes his glass and addresses PAUL). You know what I'de done, Paul, if I'd been your dad?

ANTOINETTE (nodding to AUNT CLARA). Miss Clara tells me that the coffee is in the next room. Whenever the ladies and gentlemen are so disposed ...

LASKOWSKI (interrupts). If I'de been your father, old chap, I'd drunk all of my claret before my wind-up! I wouldn't 'a left a drop!

SCHROCK'S (voice). Greedy gut!

[All get up and are about to exchange formalities.]

RAABE JUNIOR'S (voice in the background). Here's to you!

DR. BODENSTEIN (knocks on his glass, with a loud voice). Ladies and gentlemen! Let us dedicate a glass to the memory of the departed, according to the beautiful tradition of our fathers; that we must not mourn the dead, that we should envy them! Our slumbering friend lives on in the memory of those who were near to him! To immortality, in this sense, all of us may, after all, agree in a manner! (He raises his glass and clinks with those beside him. All the rest do the same. Silence prevails. Only the clinking of glasses is heard.)

PAUL (raising his glass, to ANTOINETTE). The doctor is right! Let us drink to his memory, madam! May the earth rest lightly on him! (ANTOINETTE lowers her head and stifles her tears.)

PAUL (looking at her fervently). Aren't yon going to respond?

ANTOINETTE (musters her strength, raises her head, and with tears in her eyes clinks glasses with him).

PAUL (drinks). To the memory of my father.

ANTOINETTE (nods). Your father!

PAUL. To that of our parents, madam! A silent glass! (He empties his glass.)

[ANTOINETTE puts down her glass, after she has drunk.]

LASKOWSKI (has noticed ANTOINETTE). Just cry ahead, dearie! Cry your fill! That's the way they'll drink to your Heliodor some day!

DR. BODENSTEIN. And so they will drink to all of us some day!

KUNZE. For man's life on earth is like unto the grass of the field, on which the wind bloweth. It flourisheth for a season and withereth and no one remembereth it. So also the children of men.

DR. BODENSTEIN. This goblet to the departed, one and all! (He drinks again.)

PAUL. The departed on these walls! I drink to you! (He raises his glass to the portraits on the walls. All have risen meanwhile, and broken up into new groups. Confusion of voices in the background.)

SCHROCK and RAABE (have intonated the Gaudeamus. At first softly, then more distinctly the following stanza is sung):

Ubi sunt qui ante nos In mundo fuere? Vadite ad superos, Transite ad inferos, Ubi jam fuere.



GLYSZINSKI (has joined in lustily at the end, and repeats alone). Ubi jam fuere!

[MERTENS, VON TIEDEMANN, MRS. SCHNAASE, MRS. VON TIEDEMANN stand in the foreground where they have been conversing in an undertone.]

MERTENS (in an undertone). Now the pot is boiling!

VON TIEDEMANN (a bit mellow). That's the way a funeral should be! No airs! The dead won't become alive again anyhow!

MERTENS. Many a man might object to that anyhow!

VON TIEDEMANN. The devil take it. A fellow doesn't want to give up what he once has!

MERTENS. Wasn't Laskowski superb again!

VON TIEDEMANN. Always is, of late! Never see him any other way!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. And then Mrs. Laskowski? Did you watch, Gretchen?

MRS. SCHNAASE. I don't exactly see, Elizabeth!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. You didn't, how they kept on whispering together? She hasn't a bit of modesty!

VON TIEDEMANN. I'll bet my head Laskowski will plant himself here some day. The young man surely can't make it go in the long run. Why he can't hold on to the estate.

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Didn't she bat her eyes again!

MERTENS. She does have eyes!

VON TIEDEMANN. Does she!

MRS. VON TIEDEMANN. Just go ahead and propose to her, the togged-out thing!... Come on Gretchen!

[Both go off to the left.]

VON TIEDEMANN. Bang!

MERTENS. What do you think of that?

VON TIEDEMANN. Let's see if we can find a cocktail! Come on Mertens! (They go out at the left.)

[PAUL, ANTOINETTE, GLYSZINSKI come over from the right.]



GLYSZINSKI (quite intoxicated, to ANTOINETTE). Without a doubt, madam, a beautiful, sensitive soul will, above all, find expression in the hand. So would you, perhaps, let me have your hand for a moment....

ANTOINETTE (chilly). For what purpose?

GLYSZINSKI (has seized her hand, impassioned). Only to imprint a kiss upon these beautiful, soft, delicate, distinguished, aristocratic finger-tips! (He kisses her finger-tips.)

ANTOINETTE (withdraws her hand). I beg your pardon, sir!

LASKOWSKI (is detained in a group consisting of SCHROCK, RAABE JR., and others. He has seen GLYSZINSKI kiss ANTOINETTE'S hand). Boys, let me go!

SCHROCK, RAABE, and OTHERS. Stay right here, old boy.

LASKOWSKI. Let me go, I say ... I want to get to my dearie! (He tries to disengage himself.)

SCHROCK (very unsteady on his feet). Dear old chap! I'll ... not ... let you!... Let's have another drink first!

LASKOWSKI. I want to get to my dearie! (They restrain him.)

GLYSZINSKI (follows ANTOINETTE with his eyes. She has retreated behind the oleanders in the foreground on the left). Ravishing creature! I must follow her! (About to follow her.)

PAUL. That you will not do! (Intercepts him.)

GLYSZINSKI. Let me pass!

PAUL. That way, please! (He points to the left.)

GLYSZINSKI (with clenched fists). Brutal fellow! (He struts toward the left and runs into LASKOWSKI, who is still standing in the group with SCHROCK and the rest, and who immediately fraternizes with him.)

PAUL (looking at him as he goes). A rare team!

LASKOWSKI (approaches GLYSZINSKI, trying to embrace him). Old chap!... Are you a Pole?

GLYSZINSKI. A Pole! Yes, indeed! von Glyszinski!

LASKOWSKI. Your name is Glyszinski! Mine is Laskowski! Come to my heart, fellow countryman!

RAABE. Boys, such a thing as that calls for a drink. (He goes over toward the left.)

LASKOWSKI. Drink, fellow countryman! Drink and kiss my wife. Do you want to kiss my wife?

GLYSZINSKI (pompously). Sir!

LASKOWSKI. You may. Nobody else. A Pole may. Ain't she beautiful, that dearie of mine?

GLYSZINSKI. Beautiful as the starry sky!

LASKOWSKI (embracing his neck). Brother! Come along!

SCHROCK (stands near them, swaying). Your health, you ... jolly ... brothers!

LASKOWSKI. Brotherhood? Yes, we'll drink to our brotherhood, my fellow countryman.

RAABE (comes in from the left). There's lots of good stuff in there. Come, be quick about it. Too bad to waste your time here!

LASKOWSKI (leading GLYSZINSKI, who resists a trifle, out at the left, singing as he goes). Poland is not lost forever!

[RAABE and SCHROCK follow arm in arm. The rest have gradually withdrawn toward the left in the course of the preceding scene. LENE and FRITZ clear the table and carry out the dishes. AUNT CLARA directs the work and assists now and then. PAUL stands near the table in the foreground, lost in thought.]

AUNT CLARA. Won't you go and have some coffee, Paul?

PAUL. No, not now, Auntie! Later! I need a little rest! Will you soon be through?

AUNT CLARA. Directly, my boy!... (To LENE.) Hurry now! There is plenty of work ahead!

PAUL (subdued). Leave me alone for a little while, Auntie!

AUNT CLARA (understanding him). I'll be going, Paul!

[LENE and FRITZ have completed their work and go out at the right.]

AUNT CLARA (in an undertone, as she goes toward the right). Have a good chat, Paul!

PAUL (seriously). No occasion!

[AUNT CLARA goes off at the left. One can hear her, as she closes the door on the left. Silence.]

PAUL (stands undecided for a moment, then he slowly walks over to the row of oleanders, where ANTOINETTE sits leaning back in a chair at the sofa table with her hands pressed to her face. He looks at her for a long while, then softly says). Antoinette!

ANTOINETTE (moans to herself, without stirring). My God!... My God!

PAUL (places his hand on the crown of her head). You poor ... poor child! (He sits down in the chair beside her, takes her hand which she surrenders to him passively, presses it and tenderly kisses it, saying). Sweet ... sweet Toinette!

[ANTOINETTE covers her face with her left hand while PAUL continues to hold her right hand. She is breathing convulsively.]

PAUL (looks at her with devotion, closes his hands nervously). I fairly worship you! (Continues to look at her, then says.) Won't you look at me, Antoinette? (He gently removes her hand from her face.) Please, please, Toinette! Let me see your eyes! Just let me see your eyes! (He stoops down over her.)

ANTOINETTE (sinks upon his breast, putting her arms around his neck). Dearest!... Dearest Paul!

PAUL (embraces her impetuously). Sweetheart!... Now you are mine!... Sweetheart! (Continuing in a silent, fervent embrace. Pause.)

ANTOINETTE (startled, and tries to withdraw from him). God! Great God!... What have I done?

PAUL (holds her and embraces her again). No retreat, Antoinette. No retreat is possible!

ANTOINETTE (beside herself). Let me go, Paul!

PAUL. I shall not let you go, Toinette. And if it is a matter of life and death.

ANTOINETTE (with a slight outcry). Paul!

PAUL, (presses her to him firmer than ever). Do you want the people to come in? Then call them! Let them find us!

ANTOINETTE (on his breast). I had an intimation of this.

PAUL. Did you? You too?

ANTOINETTE. Both of us, Paul! (In rapture.) Kiss me, my friend!... My beloved!

PAUL. A thousand times over! (He kisses her.)

ANTOINETTE (returns his kisses). And I, you a thousand times over!

PAUL. My dear, tell me that you love me!

ANTOINETTE (nestling up to him). You know I do, dear! ... Why have me tell you?

PAUL (with folded hands). Please, please tell me!

ANTOINETTE. I do love you, Paul!

PAUL. Tell me again! I have never heard the word! Say it once more!

ANTOINETTE. I have always loved you, Paul!

PAUL. Always? Always? Always?

ANTOINETTE. Always!

PAUL. And I failed to realize it all!... Fool, fool, fool! (He moans convulsively.)

ANTOINETTE (places her arms about him again). Don't think of it! Not now!

PAUL. You are right, dear! Our time is short!

ANTOINETTE. Forget all! Forget! Forget!

PAUL. I cannot forget! It was too long!

ANTOINETTE. Indeed it was long! But I knew that you would return.

PAUL. And you took the other man?

ANTOINETTE (sadly, but with a touch of roguishness). And you the other woman!

PAUL (startled). Do not remind me of it!

ANTOINETTE (endearingly). I took the other man while I was thinking of you! I waited for you!

PAUL. Waited for me, and I was not conscious of it. Missed my happiness. Staked my life for nothing! For a delusion! Some one had to die before I could realize what I might have enjoyed! Too late, too late, too late!

ANTOINETTE (endearingly). Forget, my love! Forget! Forget! Lay your head upon my breast!

PAUL (places his head upon her bosom). A good resting place.

ANTOINETTE (rocks him in her arms). Sleep, beloved! Sleep!

PAUL, (straightens up, beside himself with longing). Antoinette!...

ANTOINETTE. Mine again, lover of my youth!

PAUL. Dearest!... Dearest!

ANTOINETTE. Cruel, cruel man!... Mine after tireless seeking.

PAUL. Idol of my heart!... Safe in my arms at last! (Pause. Rapturous embrace.)

PAUL (straightens up and looks into her eyes). Is this still sinful, sweetheart?

ANTOINETTE (nods gravely). Still! And will remain so.

PAUL (roguishly). Not to be forgiven?

ANTOINETTE (gravely). Not to be forgiven!

PAUL. And yet you consent, with all your piety?

ANTOINETTE. I do consent! I have no other choice! (She leans upon his breast.)

PAUL (embraces her, then with a sad smile). Never to be forgiven, Antoinette?

ANTOINETTE (gently). Possibly! In heaven.

PAUL. Your God is inexorable, Antoinette.

ANTOINETTE (impassioned). You are my god! I have ceased to have another!

PAUL. And would you follow me, even unto death?

ANTOINETTE. Unto death and beyond!

PAUL (is forced to smile). Even to damnation, I dare say?

ANTOINETTE. These terrors have lost their force for both of us!

PAUL. Do you think so? Have you already come to this?

ANTOINETTE. We have had our damnation here on earth!

PAUL (jumps up). Here on earth! But not one hour more! Now the end is at hand!

ANTOINETTE. Come, dear, sit down with me.

PAUL. Yes, let us ponder what we are to do now. (He sits down beside her again.)

ANTOINETTE (nestles up to him). Not now! Not today! Promise me!

PAUL. When, when, Toinette? It must come to an end.

ANTOINETTE. It shall! But let me determine the hour, dearest!

PAUL. You?

ANTOINETTE, Yes, the day and the hour, do you hear?

PAUL. Antoinette, if you put the matter in this way ... I cannot refuse, whatever you may ask!

ANTOINETTE. Only one more day! Then I will write or come and tell you. Will you be ready?

PAUL. Then I shall be ready for anything! Then we shall have a reckoning. Then life shall begin all over again.

ANTOINETTE. Yes, another life!

PAUL (sadly). Even though the sun is already sinking.... Possibly there is still time.

ANTOINETTE. I shall do anything for you and you will do anything for me.... We agree to that! (They look into each other's eyes.)

PAUL (gently). Do you remember, Toinette, on this very spot ...?

ANTOINETTE. Ten years ago? I do! I do!

PAUL. How strangely all has come about and how necessary nevertheless! So predestined! So inexorable! Fate! Fate!

ANTOINETTE (brooding). I hung upon your lips and you ignored me! I had ceased to exist for you!

PAUL. And so we lost each other.

ANTOINETTE. But today, today we have found each other once more, oh lover of my youth!

PAUL. Late, Toinette, so late!

ANTOINETTE. Heavens, how stupid I was in those days!

PAUL. Stupid because you loved me, Toinette?

ANTOINETTE. No, because I did not tell you.

PAUL. And I did not suspect it! Now who was worse?

ANTOINETTE. Both of us, dear! We were too young!

PAUL. And today I am an old man!

ANTOINETTE. And what of me ... An old woman!

PAUL. Beloved!... Young and beautiful as ever. How young you have remained all of these years!

ANTOINETTE. For your sake, dear. I knew that I must remain young till you would return! That is why I insisted upon riding like a Cossack ...

PAUL. That is why?

ANTOINETTE. And swimming like a trout in the stream! And rowing like a sailor!

PAUL. And all in order to remain young and beautiful?... You vain, vain creature!

ANTOINETTE (mysteriously). And in order to forget, you foolish, foolish fellow!

PAUL (to himself, bitterly). In order to forget!

ANTOINETTE (taking his head in her hands). Don't think of it! Don't think of it! Now we have found each other again. That too is past!

PAUL. Yes, all is past! I have you and shall never leave you!... (Looking up at the walls). Yes, look down upon me out of your frames! Father and mother, envy me! Venerable hall, rarely have you beheld such happiness!...

ANTOINETTE. Happiness and death in one, lover!

PAUL. Possibly they are one and the same! (The door at the left is opened, both get up.)

AUNT CLARA'S (voice from the left). Paul, are you here?

PAUL. We are here. Aunt Clara! (Noise from the left.)

AUNT CLARA (comes forward). Our guests are about to go, Paul.

ANTOINETTE. Very well! Then we'll go too. (The two walk erectly into the center passage.)

HELLA (has opened the door at the right, enters and sees PAUL and ANTOINETTE with AUNT CLARA). Paul!

PAUL (turning around very calmly). Is it you, Hella?

HELLA. As you see! (She stands immediately before them, looks at them with a hostile expression; to ANTOINETTE.) I beg your pardon, madam!

ANTOINETTE (nods her head). Please!

PAUL (coldly). What do you wish?

HELLA (looks at him nonplussed, is silent a moment and then says curtly). Where is Glyszinski? I need him!

PAUL (as before). There, if you please. If you will take the trouble to step into the next room ... (LASKOWSKI and GLYSZINSKI, arm in arm, enter from the left, followed by the other guests.)

LASKOWSKI (very tipsy, but not completely robbed of his senses). Brother! Polish brother! Don't leave me in the lurch ... Help me find my dearie!

ANTOINETTE (with head erect). Here I am.

LASKOWSKI (sobered at the sight of her). Why dearie, where have you been? Have you had a long talk with Paul?

ANTOINETTE (extends her hand to PAUL). Good-by, Doctor!

PAUL. Good-by, madam! We shall see each other again! (He looks squarely into her eye.)

ANTOINETTE (significantly). We shall see each other again.

LASKOWSKI. Shan't we go, dearie? Why, it's almost evening. ANTOINETTE. Yes, almost evening. I am ready. (She walks over to the right calmly and goes out. The guests prepare to go.)

HELLA (has been standing silently witnessing the scene, and now approaches PAUL). What does this mean, Paul?

PAUL (about to go, frigidly). A woman whom I knew in the old days!... Good-by. (He leaves her and goes out at the right with the guests.)

HELLA (partly to herself, partly calling after him). Paul! What does this mean?... Paul!



ACT IV

Afternoon, two days later. The banquet hoard and oleanders have been removed, every trace of the funeral has been carefully obliterated. Clear sunlight comes in from the garden windows in the background and lights up the spacious, sombre hall. The bushes and trees of the garden are coated with ice. The fire is burning as usual. Toward the end of the act the sunlight gradually vanishes and a light, gray dusk fills the hall. AUNT CLARA stands at the fireplace with her arms folded over her waist, and looks into the fire.

PAUL (who has been pacing the floor, stops and passes his hand over his hair nervously). So no letter has come, Aunt Clara?

AUNT CLARA (looking up). No, no, my boy.

PAUL (impatiently). And no messenger either?

AUNT CLARA. From where do you expect one?

PAUL (in agony). Great God, from where? From where? From anywhere? Some tiding! Some word! A letter! (Paces the floor again excitedly.)

AUNT CLARA. Why I can't tell. Are you expecting anything from some source or other?

PAUL (impetuously). Would I be asking, Aunt Clara?

[Silence.]

PAUL (violently agitated, partly to himself). Incomprehensible! Incomprehensible! Two days without news! Two full days!

AUNT CLARA (sadly). I do not comprehend you either, my boy!

PAUL (takes a few steps without heeding her). This stillness! This death-like stillness!

AUNT CLARA (sits down). Isn't it good, when peace prevails?

PAUL. As you look at it. Certainly it is good! But first of all one must be at peace himself! Must have become calm and clear about the matters that concern one. Know what one wants to do and is expected to do and what one is here for in this world.

AUNT CLARA. But every one knows that, Paul.

PAUL (without listening to her, rather to himself). Uncanny, this silence all around one. Doubly and three-fold one feels, how it seethes and boils within, without one's getting anywhere. One can hear himself think! (He stops, then in a changed voice, as he looks up.) No no, Aunt Clara, people who have closed their account, belong in the country. Others do not! (AUNT CLARA looks at him and is silent. After a moment.) The rest need noise, diversion, human beings about them. One must have something in order to be able to forget! Some narcotic to put one to sleep! There are people, who do that all of their lives and are quite, happy, who never come to themselves, are continually living in a kind of intoxication and leave this world without attaining real consciousness. You see, Auntie, the city is the proper place for that. There you can dull your feelings and forget.

AUNT CLARA. I could not stand the city.

PAUL. Yes, you, Aunt Clara! You are a child of the country.

AUNT CLARA. Well, aren't you, Paul?

PAUL. True! But you have never been alienated from the soil! I tell you the man who has once partaken of that poison, can not give it up, he is forced to go back to it again and again.

AUNT CLARA (impatiently). One simply can't understand you, Paul. When you arrived, you said one thing and now you are saying another. The very idea!

PAUL (is forced to smile). You fail to understand that, you good old soul! Of course, you do not know what has come to pass since then. At that time I was not at odds with myself ...

AUNT CLARA. At that time! When, pray tell? You came on the third holiday and this is New Year's eve. You have been here for five days.

PAUL. Today it's quite a different matter. Quite different!

AUNT CLARA. What on earth has happened, pray tell!

PAUL. Much, much, Aunt Clara!

AUNT CLARA (probing). I suppose because they were a bit boisterous at the funeral! That's the way of it, you know, when they get to drinking.

PAUL (negative gesture). Good heavens, no!... No!

AUNT CLARA. That's the way they always act at funerals. I know of funerals where there was dancing.

PAUL. Yes, yes, that may be!

AUNT CLARA. And then they all were so friendly with you.

PAUL. Oh, yes. With the friendliest kind of an air, they told me not to take it into my head that I know how to farm.

AUNT CLARA. Why, Paul. You only imagine that!

PAUL. The good neighbors. At bottom they are right! How should an old man be able to learn the things that call for the efforts of a whole life, just as any other career does! Ridiculous! Why that simply must have lurid consequences.

AUNT CLARA (impatiently). I should never have thought that you would act this way, Paul!

PAUL. Act what way? I am only checking over the possibilities. Every business man does that! And I tell you, the prospects are desperately bad! I can fairly see Laskowski establish himself here after I have lost the place! (He has slowly walked over to the garden window on the right and looks out into the garden.)

[Silence.]

PAUL (after a time). What a beautiful day! The snow is glittering in the sunlight. The trees stand so motionless.

AUNT CLARA. Awfully cold out-doors, my boy!

PAUL. I know it. Aunt Clara, but the light is refreshing after all of the dark days. The old year is shining forth once more in its full glory.

AUNT CLARA. The days are getting longer again.

PAUL (meditating). Didn't you tell me, once upon a time, Auntie, that the time between Christmas and New Year is called the holy season?

AUNT CLARA. The time between Christmas and Epiphany, Paul. If anyone dies then ... (She suddenly stops.)

PAUL (calmly). Finish it, Aunt Clara! If some one dies then, another member of the family will follow him. Isn't that the purport?

AUNT CLARA. Why Paul, I don't know! Purport of what? Who would believe in all of those things?

PAUL. Of course not! [Brief silence.]

AUNT CLARA (with her hand behind her ear). Do you hear the whips crack, Paul?

PAUL (also listens). Faintly, yes. It seems to be out in front.

AUNT CLARA. The young folks are lashing the old year out. They always do that on New Year's Eve when the sun goes down.

PAUL (reflecting). I know. I know. I have heard it many a New Year's Eve. When the sun was setting.

AUNT CLARA. Another one gone!

PAUL (stares out). Just so it stood between the trees, and kept on sinking and sinking, and I was a little fellow and watched it from the window. And at last it was down and twilight came on.

AUNT CLARA. Thank God, Paul, this year is over.

PAUL. Who knows what the day may still have in store for us! Things are taking their course.

AUNT CLARA. Tonight we shall surely all take punch together, Paul?

PAUL. If we have time and the desire to do so, yes.

AUNT CLARA (nervously). How you are talking, Paul! Don't make a person afraid!

PAUL (glancing at the sinking sun). Now it is directly over the pavilion. Now we shall not enjoy it much longer. (With a wave of his hand.) I greet thee, sun! Sinking sun!

AUNT CLARA. I was going to ask you, in regard to the pavilion ...

PAUL (turns around). Yes I'm glad that I've thought of it! (He comes forward and pulls the bell.)

LENE (opens the door at the right and enters). Did you ring, sir?

PAUL. Yes. My trunks, books, all of my things are to be taken over to the garden-house. Understand?

LENE (astonished). To the garden-house?

PAUL. Yes, to the pavilion. Put the rooms in proper order. Don't forget to make a fire. I suppose there's a bed there for the night?

AUNT CLARA. Everything, my boy. Only it will have to be put to rights, because no one has put up there this many a day.

LENE. Are the madam's things also to be ...?

PAUL. No they are not! They are to stay here!

[AUNT CLARA shakes her head and turns away.]

LENE. Shall I do so immediately ...?

PAUL. Is madam still asleep?

LENE. I think so.

PAUL. Then wait till madam is up, and go there afterward.

LENE. What if madam should ask ...?

PAUL. Then tell her that I requested you to do so.

LENE (confused). I'm to say that Mr. Warkentin has requested ...

PAUL (resolutely). And you are to do what I have requested. Do you understand me?

LENE. Very well, sir!... And I was going to say, the inspector has been here.

PAUL. Has he? Back from town already? (Struck by a sudden thought.) Did he possibly have a letter for me?

LENE. I don't know. I think he only wanted to know about the work ...

PAUL. And there hasn't been a messenger? Say, from Klonowken?

LENE. No, nothing.

PAUL. Then you may go. Oh yes, when the inspector returns, you might call me. (LENE goes off to the right.)

PAUL (walks through the hall, clenching his fists nervously). Nothing yet? Nothing yet? And the day is almost gone!

AUNT CLARA (with growing anxiety). What's the matter with you, Paul? Something is brewing here!

PAUL. That may be very true!

AUNT CLARA. And then, that you insist upon changing your quarters today! It does seem to me ...!

PAUL. You can only take pleasure in that. You see by that, that I have resolved to stay at Ellernhof. Or I should certainly not go to the trouble.

AUNT CLARA. Yes, yes, but your wife?

PAUL. Who? Hella? All the better if the matter comes to a head. The issue is dead ripe!

AUNT CLARA (approaches him anxiously). Paul, Paul! This will not come to a good end.

PAUL. Quite possible. That is not at all necessary!

AUNT CLARA. And I am to blame for all.

PAUL. You? Why?

AUNT CLARA. I got you into it! No one else!

PAUL (is forced to smile). Innocent creature! Individuals quite apart from you got me into it. It has taken a whole lifetime to bring it about! You are as little to blame for that as you are for the fall of Adam and the existence of the world and the fact that some day we shall all have to die!

AUNT CLARA (with her apron before her face). I told you about Antoinette! For she is at the bottom of it! I'll stake my head on that!

PAUL. Don't torture me, Aunt Clara!

AUNT CLARA. She is at the bottom of it! And I, in my stupidity, cap the climax by leaving the two of you alone at the funeral day before yesterday.

PAUL. I shall be grateful to you for that all of my life, Aunt Clara!

AUNT CLARA. My notion was for you to have a little talk together, and then to think what it has led to! May God forgive what I have done.

PAUL (partly to himself). She promised me to come. And she is not coming! She promised me to write. And she does not write. Not a word. Not the remotest token! How do I know, but everything was a delusion? Childish fancy and nothing more? The intoxication of a moment which seized her and vanished again when she sat in her sleigh and rode away in the winter night? Do I know? (He puts his hand to his head.)

AUNT CLARA (very uneasy). Paul, what are you talking about? Tell me!

PAUL (jumps up without listening to her). No!... Then farewell Ellernhof! Farewell my home and everything!

AUNT CLARA. Do be quiet! What in the world is the matter?

PAUL (walks up and down impatiently, stops again, speaks to himself in an undertone). At that time I deceived her, deceived her without knowing and wishing to. What if she deceives me now? What if she pays me back? (He sinks down in the chair near the fireplace in violent conflict with himself.)

AUNT CLARA (in despair). What a calamity! What a calamity!

PAUL (as if shaking something off). No! No! No!... it cannot but come out right. (Heaves a sigh of relief.)

AUNT CLARA (joyful again). Do you see, my boy?

PAUL (gloomily). Don't rejoice prematurely, Auntie! It seems to me that this house fosters misfortune! All that you need to do is to look at those faces! They all have a suggestion of melancholy and gloom. (He looks up at the portraits pensively.) Just as if the sun had never shone into their hearts, you know. No air of hopefulness, no suggestion of light and freedom! So chained to the earth! So savagely taciturn? Can that be due to the air and soil? It will probably assert itself in me too, after I have been here for some time. Possibly it would have been better, Auntie, if I had never returned to this house! I should have continued that life of mine, not cold, not warm, not happy, not unhappy! I should never have found out what I have really missed and yet can never find. Possibly it would have been better. [Short pause.]

LENE (opens the door at the right and stands in the door). The inspector is here, sir. Shall he come in? He is lunching just now.

PAUL (gets up). No, never mind. One moment, Auntie! (He nods to her and goes out with LENE.)

[AUNT CLARA shakes her head apprehensively as she follows him with her eyes, heaves a deep sigh, occupies herself with this and that in the room, then seems to be listening to a noise on the left. She straightens up energetically. Presently the door on the left is opened.]

HELLA (enters, dressed in black. She looks solemn and rather pale. She slowly approaches AUNT CLARA. The two face each other and eye each other for a moment). I thought Paul was here.

AUNT CLARA. Paul will surely be back any minute.

HELLA. Will he? Then I shall wait. (She turns around and starts for the window.)

AUNT CLARA (hesitates a moment, then with a sudden effort). Madam ... Doctor ...? (Takes a step in the direction of HELLA.)

HELLA (looks around surprised). Were you saying something?

AUNT CLARA (erect). Keep an eye on Paul, madam!... That's all I have to say!

HELLA (approaches). How so?

AUNT CLARA. I am simply saying, keep an eye on Paul!

HELLA (steps up to her, with a searching look). What is going on?...

AUNT CLARA, Talk to him yourself. I can't fathom it.

HELLA. Then I will tell you. Do you think I am blind? Do you suppose that I am unable to see through the situation here? I know Paul and I know you, all of you who are turning Paul's head!

AUNT CLARA (angered). Mercy me! I, turn Paul's head!

HELLA. Yes, you, and all of you around here! I will tell you to your face! You are trying to set Paul against me!