Hands Around [Reigen]: A Cycle of Ten Dialogues

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53513 *** HANDS AROUND OF THIS EDITION, INTENDED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION ONLY, 1475 COPIES HAVE BEEN PRINTED, AFTER WHICH THE TYPE HAS BEEN DISTRIBUTED. THIS COPY IS NUMBER 738 HANDS AROUND [REIGEN] A CYCLE OF TEN DIALOGUES _By_ ARTHUR SCHNITZLER COMPLETELY RENDERED INTO ENGLISH AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION NEW YORK _Privately Printed for Subscribers_ MCMXX Copyright, 1920 By A. KOREN INTRODUCTION Humanity seems gayest when dancing on the brink of a volcano. The culture of a period preceding a social cataclysm is marked by a spirit of light wit and sophisticated elegance which finds expression in a literature of a distinct type. This literature is light-hearted, audacious and self-conscious. It can treat with the most charming insouciance subjects which in another age would have been awkward or even vulgar. But with the riper experience of a period approaching its end the writers feel untrammeled in the choice of theme by pride or prejudice knowing that they will never transgress the line of good taste. So it was in the declining days of the Roman civilization when Lucian of Samosata wrote his _Dialogues of the Hetærai_ and countless poets penned their intricate epigrams on the art and experience of love. So it was in England when the fine vigor of the Elizabethan and Miltonic age gave way to the Restoration and the calculating brilliance of a Congreve or a Wycherly. But the exquisite handling of the licentious was elaborated into a perfect technique in eighteenth century France. The spirit of the Rococo with its predilection for the well-measured pose was singularly well adapted to the artistic expression of what in a cruder age could only have been voiced with coarseness and vulgarity. In the literature of this period we meet again the spirit that animates the gracious paintings of Watteau and Fragonard. The scenes we admire in their panels recur in literary style in works like Choderlos de Laclos’ _Liaisons dangereuses_ and Louvet de Couvray’s _Les amours du Chevalier de Faublas_. Again the same note is heard in Beaumarchais’ _Le Mariage de Figaro_, in which the society of the period is travestied with brilliant wit and worldly philosophy. The court of Louis XVI., quite unaware, looked on and applauded a play which Napoleon later characterized as “the revolution already in action.” During the closing years of the nineteenth century a similar spirit has hovered over Vienna, when it was the last and staunchest stronghold of aristocracy in the modern world. Its literature reflected the charm of a fastidious amatory etiquette which is forbidden in sterner and soberer environment, while it gayly ignored the slow gathering of the clouds which foreshadowed its own catastrophe and martyrdom. As Percival Pollard once so well put it: “All that rises out of that air has had fascination, grace, insinuation, and intrigue. Neither tremendous passion nor tremendous problems have stirred, to all appearances, these polite artists of Vienna. Passion might be there, but what was to be artistically expressed was, rather, the witty or ironically mournful surfaces of passion.” The literary master of this world is concededly Arthur Schnitzler, in whom are curiously combined the sophisticated elegance of the Viennese man of letters and the disenchanting wisdom of the practising physician. He was born in Vienna in 1862, the son of a doctor. He studied medicine himself, took his degree in 1885, and was for two years connected with a hospital. Since then he has practised privately, and has also found the time to write a long series of plays, both in prose and verse, several novels, and many shorter stories. Of these a considerable number have appeared in English. _Reigen_, here translated as _Hands Around_, is a series of ten comedies—miniatures in dialogue between man and woman in various ages and walks of life. But transgressing the merely literary they are psychological studies of the interplay of sex, and keen analyses of the sophisticated modern soul, done with freedom and finesse. There are no grim questions of right and wrong in these subtle revelations of the merely human. In fact one might call them studies in the etiquette of the liaison and all its nuances. The cycle begins with a girl of the streets and a soldier. Then come the soldier and a parlor-maid, the parlor-maid and a young man, the young man and a young wife, the young wife and her husband, the husband and a sweet young miss, the sweet young miss and a poet, the poet and an actress, the actress and a count, until finally the cycle is completed with the count and the girl of the streets. A vicious circle, some may say, and such it surely would have been in the hands of a lesser artist than Schnitzler, for he would only have made the book hideously fleshly, instead of a marvelous psychological study in the ecstacies and disillusions of love and the whole tragedy of human wishes unsatisfied even in their apparent gratification. But as it is the silken portières of discreet alcoves are opened quietly before our eyes, and we hear the whisper of the most intimate secrets. But with all their realism there is no word in these dialogues which could antagonize the susceptibilities of any sincere student or true lover of humanity. All stratagems of sex are uncovered not through the curious observations of a faunic mind, but through the finer eyes of a connoisseur of things human. The Puritan fanatic with his jaundiced inhibitions or the moral ideologist with his heart of leather may toss the book aside resentful because of its inherent truth. The philosopher of human life, taking the larger aspect of this drama, will close it with the serene smile of understanding. Any attempt to turn a dialogue so full of delicate shades as is this of Schnitzler into a language like English, whose genius tends rather toward a graphic concreteness and realism, is full of pitfalls and difficulties. The translators, however, hope that they have accomplished their task with reasonable success, thinking always of the spirit rather than the letter. They also take this occasion to express their appreciation to Dr. Arthur Schnitzler for his kindness in granting them his authorization for this translation of _Reigen_. F. L. G. L. D. E. New York 1920 HANDS AROUND CHARACTERS THE GIRL OF THE STREETS, THE SOLDIER, THE PARLOR MAID, THE YOUNG MAN, THE YOUNG WIFE, THE HUSBAND, THE SWEET YOUNG MISS, THE POET, THE ACTRESS, THE COUNT. THE GIRL OF THE STREETS AND THE SOLDIER _Late in the evening near the Augarten Bridge._ SOLDIER (_Enters whistling, on his way home_) GIRL Hello, my beautiful angel! SOLDIER (_Turns and continues on his way_) GIRL Don’t you want to come with me? SOLDIER Oh, I am the beautiful angel? GIRL Sure, who else? Do come with me. I live very near here. SOLDIER I’ve no time. I must get back to the barracks. GIRL You’ll get to your barracks in plenty of time. It’s much nicer with me. SOLDIER (_Close to her_) That’s possible. GIRL Ps-st! A guard may pass any minute. SOLDIER Rot! A guard! I carry a saber too! GIRL Ah, come with me. SOLDIER Let me alone. I have no money anyway. GIRL I don’t want any money. SOLDIER (_Stopping. They are under a street-lamp_) You don’t want any money? What kind of a girl are you, then? GIRL The civilians pay me. Chaps like you don’t have to pay me for anything. SOLDIER Maybe you’re the girl my pal told me about. GIRL I don’t know any pal of yours. SOLDIER You’re she, all right! You know—in the café down the street—He went home with you from there. GIRL Lots have gone home with me from that café… Oh, lots! SOLDIER All right. Let’s go! GIRL So, you’re in a hurry now? SOLDIER Well, what are we waiting for? Anyhow, I must be back at the barracks by ten. GIRL Been in service long? SOLDIER What business is that of yours? Is it far? GIRL Ten minutes’ walk. SOLDIER That’s too far for me. Give me a kiss. GIRL (_Kissing him_) I like that best anyway—when I love some one. SOLDIER I don’t. No, I can’t go with you. It’s too far. GIRL Say, come to-morrow afternoon. SOLDIER Sure. Give me your address. GIRL But maybe you won’t come. SOLDIER If I promise! GIRL Look here—if my place is too far to-night—there … there… (_She points toward the Danube_) SOLDIER What’s there? GIRL It’s nice and quiet there, too … no one is around. SOLDIER Oh, that’s not the real thing. GIRL It’s always the real thing with me. Come, stay with me now. Who knows, if we’ll be alive to-morrow. SOLDIER Come along then—but quick. GIRL Be careful! It’s dark here. If you slip, you’ll fall in the river. SOLDIER Would be the best thing, perhaps. GIRL Sh-h. Wait a minute. We’ll come to a bench soon. SOLDIER You seem to know this place pretty well. GIRL I’d like to have you for a sweetheart. SOLDIER I’d fight too much. GIRL I’d cure you of that soon enough. SOLDIER Humph— GIRL Don’t make so much noise. Sometimes a guard stumbles down here. Would you believe we are in the middle of Vienna? SOLDIER Come here. Come over here. GIRL You are crazy! If we slipped here, we’d fall into the river. SOLDIER (_Has grabbed her_) Oh you— GIRL Hold tight to me. SOLDIER Don’t be afraid… * * * * * GIRL It would have been nicer on the bench. SOLDIER Here or there, it doesn’t matter to me… Well, pick yourself up. GIRL What’s your hurry—? SOLDIER I must get to the barracks. I’ll be late anyhow. GIRL Say, what’s your name? SOLDIER What’s that to you? GIRL My name is Leocadia. SOLDIER Humph! I never heard such a name before. GIRL Listen! SOLDIER Well, what do you want? GIRL Give me just a dime for the janitor. SOLDIER Humph!… Do you think I’m your meal-ticket? Good-by, Leocadia… GIRL Tightwad! Pimp! (_He disappears_) THE SOLDIER AND THE PARLOR-MAID _Prater Gardens. Sunday Evening. A road which leads from the Wurstelprater[1] into dark tree arcades. Confused music from the Wurstelprater can still be heard; also strains from the cheap dancehall, a vulgar polka, played by a brass band. THE SOLDIER. THE PARLOR-MAID._ MAID Now tell me why you wanted to leave. SOLDIER (_Grins sheepishly_) MAID It was so beautiful and I so love to dance. SOLDIER (_Puts his arm around her waist_) MAID (_Submitting_) But we aren’t dancing now. Why do you hold me so tight? SOLDIER What’s your name? Katy? MAID You’ve always got a “Katy” on your mind. SOLDIER I know—I know … Marie. MAID Goodness, it’s dark here. I’m afraid. SOLDIER You needn’t be afraid when I’m with you. I can take care of myself! MAID But where are we going? There’s no one around. Come, let’s go back!… It’s so dark! SOLDIER (_Pulling at his cigar until it glows brightly_) There … it’s already getting brighter. Ha—! Oh, you dearie! MAID Oh! what are you doing there? If I had known this before! SOLDIER The devil take me, if any one at the dance to-day felt softer and rounder than you, Miss Marie. MAID Did you find it out in the same way with all the others? SOLDIER You notice things … dancing. You find out lots that way! MAID But you danced much oftener with that cross-eyed blonde than with me. SOLDIER She’s an old friend of one of my pals. MAID Of the corporal with the upturned mustache? SOLDIER Oh no, I mean the civilian. You know, the one who was talking with me at the table in the beginning. The one who has such a husky voice. MAID Oh I know. He’s fresh. SOLDIER Did he do anything to you? I’ll show him! What did he do to you? MAID Oh nothing… I only noticed how he was with the others. SOLDIER Tell me, Miss Marie… MAID You’ll burn me with your cigar. SOLDIER Pardon me!—Miss Marie—or may I say Marie? MAID We’re not such good friends yet… SOLDIER There’re many who don’t like each-other, and yet use first names. MAID Next time, if we… But, Frank! SOLDIER Oh, you remember my name? MAID But, Frank… SOLDIER That’s right, call me Frank, Miss Marie. MAID Don’t be so fresh—but, sh-h, suppose some one should come! SOLDIER What if some one did come? They couldn’t see anything two steps off. MAID For goodness’ sake, where are we going? SOLDIER Look! There’s two just like us. MAID Where? I don’t see anything. SOLDIER There … just ahead of us. MAID Why do you say: “two like us”— SOLDIER Well, I mean, they like each other too. MAID Look out! What’s that there? I nearly fell. SOLDIER Oh, that’s the meadow-gate. MAID Don’t shove me so. I’ll fall. SOLDIER Sh-h, not so loud. MAID Stop! Now I’m really going to scream—What are you doing?… Stop now— SOLDIER There’s no one anywhere around. MAID Then, let’s go back where the people are. SOLDIER We don’t need them. Why—Marie, we need … for that… MAID Stop, Frank, please, for Heaven’s sake! Listen to me, if I had … known … oh … come! * * * * * SOLDIER (_Blissfully_) Once more… Oh… MAID … I can’t see your face at all. SOLDIER Don’t matter—my face… * * * * * SOLDIER Well, Miss Marie, you can’t stay here on the grass all night. MAID Please, Frank, help me. SOLDIER Oh, come along. MAID Oh, Lord help me, Frank. SOLDIER Well, what’s the matter with me? MAID You’re a bad man, Frank. SOLDIER Yes, yes. Say, wait a minute. MAID Why do you leave me alone? SOLDIER Can’t you let me light my cigar! MAID It’s so dark. SOLDIER It’ll be light again to-morrow morning. MAID Tell me, at least, you love me. SOLDIER Well, you must have felt that, Miss Marie! MAID Where are we going now? SOLDIER Back, of course. MAID Please, don’t walk so fast. SOLDIER Well, what’s wrong? I don’t like to walk around in the dark. MAID Tell me, Frank … do you love me? SOLDIER But I just told you that I loved you! MAID Won’t you give me a little kiss? SOLDIER (_Condescendingly_) There… Listen—There’s the music again. MAID Would you really like to go back, and dance again? SOLDIER Of course, why not? MAID But, Frank, see, I have to get home. Madame will scold me anyway,—she’s cranky … she’d like it best if I never went out. SOLDIER Well, you can go home. MAID But, I thought, Frank, you’d take me home. SOLDIER Take you home? Oh! MAID Please, it’s so sad to go home alone. SOLDIER Where do you live? MAID Not very far—in Porzellanstrasse. SOLDIER So? Then we go the same way … but it’s still too early for me … me for the dance… I’ve got late leave to-day… I don’t need to be back at the barracks before twelve o’clock. I’m going to dance. MAID Oh, I see, now it’s that cross-eyed blonde’s turn. SOLDIER Humph!—Her face isn’t so bad. MAID Oh Lord, how wicked men are. I’m sure you do the same to every one. SOLDIER That’d be too much!— MAID Please, Frank, no more to-day—stay with me to-day, you see— SOLDIER Oh, very well, all right. But I suppose I may dance. MAID I’m not going to dance with any one else to-night. SOLDIER There it is already… MAID What? SOLDIER The hall! How quick we got back. They’re still playing the same thing … that tatata-tum tatata-tum (_He hums with the band_)… Well, I’ll take you home, if you want to wait for me … if not … good-by— MAID Yes, I’ll wait. (_They enter the dancehall_) SOLDIER Say, Miss Marie, get yourself a glass of beer. (_Turning to a blonde who is just dancing past him in the arms of another, very formally_) Miss, may I ask for a dance?— THE PARLOR MAID AND THE YOUNG MAN _Sultry summer afternoon. The parents of the YOUNG MAN are away in the country. The cook has gone out. The PARLOR-MAID is in the kitchen writing a letter to the soldier who is now her sweetheart. The YOUNG MAN’S bell rings. She gets up and goes to his room. The YOUNG MAN is lying on a couch, smoking a cigarette and reading a French novel._ MAID Yes, Sir? YOUNG MAN Oh, yes, Marie, oh, yes; I rang, yes … I only wanted … yes, of course… Oh, yes, of course, let the blinds down, Marie… It’s cooler with the blinds down … yes… (_The MAID goes to the window and pulls down the blinds_) YOUNG MAN (_Continues reading_) What are you doing, Marie? Oh, yes. But, now, I can’t see to read. MAID You are always so studious, Sir. YOUNG MAN (_Ignoring the remark_) There, that’s better. (_MARIE goes._) YOUNG MAN (_Tries to go on with his reading, lets the book fall, and rings again_) MAID (_Enters_) YOUNG MAN I say, Marie … let’s see, what was it I wanted to say? … oh, yes… Is there any cognac in the house? MAID Yes, but it’s locked up. YOUNG MAN Well, who has the key? MAID Lini. YOUNG MAN Who is Lini? MAID The cook, Mr. Alfred. YOUNG MAN Well, then ask Lini for it. MAID Yes, but it’s Lini’s day out. YOUNG MAN So… MAID Can I get anything for you from the café, Sir? YOUNG MAN Thank you, no… It is hot enough as it is. I don’t need any cognac. Listen, Marie, bring me a glass of water. Wait, Marie,—let it run, till it gets quite cold. _Exit MAID. The YOUNG MAN gazes after her. At the door the MAID looks back at him, and the YOUNG MAN glances into the air. The MAID turns on the water and lets it run. Meanwhile, she goes into her room, washes her hands, and arranges her curls before the mirror. Then she brings the glass of water to the YOUNG MAN. She approaches the couch. The YOUNG MAN raises himself upon his elbow. The MAID gives him the glass of water and their fingers touch._ YOUNG MAN Thank you—Well, what is the matter?—Be careful. Put the glass back on the tray. (_He leans back, and stretches himself_) How late is it? MAID Five o’clock, Sir. YOUNG MAN Ah, five o’clock.—That’s fine.— MAID (_Goes. At the door she turns around. The YOUNG MAN has followed her with his eyes; she notices it, and smiles_) YOUNG MAN (_Remains stretched out awhile; then, suddenly, he gets up. He walks to the door, back again, and lies down on the couch. He again tries to read. After a few moments, he rings once more._) MAID (_Appears with a smile which she does not try to hide_) YOUNG MAN Listen, Marie, there was something I wanted to ask you. Didn’t Dr. Schueller call this morning? MAID No, Sir, nobody called this morning. YOUNG MAN That is strange. Then, Dr. Schueller didn’t call. Do you know Dr. Schueller by sight? MAID Of course, I do. He’s the big gentleman with the black beard. YOUNG MAN Yes. Then, perhaps, he called after all? MAID No, Sir. Nobody called. YOUNG MAN (_Resolutely_) Come here, Marie. MAID (_Coming a little nearer_) Yes, Sir. YOUNG MAN Still nearer … so … ah … I only thought… MAID Do you want anything, Sir? YOUNG MAN I thought… Well, I thought—only about your blouse … what kind of a blouse is it … can’t you come closer. I won’t bite you. MAID (_Comes close to him_) What is the matter with my blouse? Don’t you like it, Sir? YOUNG MAN (_Takes hold of her blouse, and draws her down to him_) Blue? It is a nice blue. (_Simply_) You are very prettily dressed, Marie. MAID But, Sir… YOUNG MAN Ah… What is the matter?… (_He has opened her blouse. In a matter of fact tone_) You have a beautiful white skin, Marie. MAID You are flattering me, Sir. YOUNG MAN (_Kissing her on the breast_) That can’t hurt you. MAID Oh, no. YOUNG MAN But you sigh so. Why are you sighing? MAID Oh, Mr. Alfred… YOUNG MAN And what charming little slippers you have… MAID … But … Sir … if the doorbell should ring.— YOUNG MAN Who will ring now? MAID But, Sir … look … it is so light… YOUNG MAN You needn’t feel at all shy with me. You needn’t feel shy with anybody … any one as pretty as you. Yes, really, you are, Marie… Do you know your hair actually smells sweet. MAID Mr. Alfred… YOUNG MAN Don’t make such a fuss, Marie… Anyway, I’ve already seen you otherwise. When I came home the other night and went to get some water, the door to your room was open … well… MAID (_Covering her face_) Oh, my, I didn’t know that Mr. Alfred could be so wicked. YOUNG MAN I _saw_ lots then … _that_ … and _that_ … that … and— MAID Oh, Mr. Alfred! YOUNG MAN Come, come … here … so—that’s it… MAID But if the doorbell should ring now— YOUNG MAN Now forget that … we simply wouldn’t open the door. * * * * * (_The bell rings_) YOUNG MAN Confound it… What a noise that fellow makes—Perhaps he rang before, and we didn’t notice it. MAID Oh, no. I was listening all the while. YOUNG MAN Well, see what’s the matter. Peek through the curtains. MAID Mr. Alfred … you are … no … such a bad man. YOUNG MAN Please go and see… (_Exit MAID_) YOUNG MAN (_Opens the blinds quickly_) MAID (_Returns_) He must have gone away again. Anyway, no one is there now. Perhaps, it was Dr. Schueller. YOUNG MAN (_Annoyed_) Thank you. MAID (_Drawing close to him_) YOUNG MAN (_Evading her_) Listen, Marie,—I’m going to the café now. MAID (_Tenderly_) So soon … Mr. Alfred. YOUNG MAN (_Formally_) I am going to the café now… If Dr. Schueller should call— MAID He won’t come any more to-day. YOUNG MAN (_Severely_) If Dr. Schueller should come, I—I am in the café. (_He goes to the adjoining room. The MAID takes a cigar from the smoking-stand, puts it in her blouse and goes out._) THE YOUNG MAN AND THE YOUNG WIFE _Evening—A drawing-room furnished with cheap elegance in a house in Schwind street. The YOUNG MAN has just come in; and, still wearing his hat and overcoat, he lights the gas. Then he opens a door to a side-room and looks in. The light from the drawing-room shimmers over the inlaid floor as far as the Louis Quinze bed, which stands against the opposite wall. A reddish light plays from the fire-place in the corner of the bedroom upon the hangings of the bed. The YOUNG MAN now inspects the bedroom. He takes an atomizer from the dressing-table, and sprays the bed-pillows with a fine rain of violet perfume. Then he carries the atomizer through both rooms, constantly pressing upon the bulb, so that soon the odor of violets pervades the place. He then takes off his hat and coat. He sits down in a blue velvet armchair, lights a cigarette, and smokes. After a short pause he rises again, and makes sure that the green shutters are closed. Suddenly, he goes into the bedroom, and opens a drawer in the dressing-table. He puts his hand in it, and finds a tortoise-shell hair-pin. He looks for a place to hide it, and finally puts it into a pocket of his overcoat. He opens the buffet in the drawing-room; takes a silver tray, with a bottle and two liqueur glasses, and puts them on the table. He goes back to his overcoat, and takes from it a small white package. Opening this, he places it beside the cognac. He goes again to the buffet, and takes two small plates and knives and forks. He takes a candied chestnut from the package and eats it. Then he pours himself a glass of cognac, and drinks it quickly. He then looks at his watch. He walks up and down the room. He stops a while before a large mirror, ordering his hair and small mustache with a pocket-comb. He next goes to the door of the vestibule and listens. Nothing is stirring. Then he closes the blue portières, which hang before the bedroom. The bell rings. He starts slightly. Then he sits down in the armchair, and rises only when the door has been opened and the YOUNG WIFE enters._ YOUNG WIFE (_Heavily veiled, closes the door behind her, pausing a moment with her left hand over her heart, as though mastering a strong emotion_) YOUNG MAN (_Goes toward her, takes her left hand, and presses a kiss on the white glove with black stitching. He says softly._) Thank you. YOUNG WIFE Alfred—Alfred! YOUNG MAN Come, Madame… Come, Emma… YOUNG WIFE Let me be for a minute—please … oh, please, please, Alfred! (_She is still standing at the door_) YOUNG MAN (_Standing before her, holding her hand_) YOUNG WIFE Where am I? YOUNG MAN With me. YOUNG WIFE This house is terrible, Alfred. YOUNG MAN Why terrible? It is a very proper house. YOUNG WIFE But I met two gentlemen on the staircase. YOUNG MAN Acquaintances of yours? YOUNG WIFE I don’t know. It’s possible. YOUNG MAN But, Madame—You surely know your friends! YOUNG WIFE I couldn’t see their faces. YOUNG MAN But even had they been your best friends—they couldn’t possibly have recognized you… I, myself … if I didn’t know it was you … this veil— YOUNG WIFE There are two. YOUNG MAN Won’t you come closer?… And take off your hat, at least? YOUNG WIFE What are you thinking of, Alfred? I promised you: Five minutes… Not a moment more … I swear it, no more— YOUNG MAN Well, then, your veil— YOUNG WIFE There are two of them. YOUNG MAN Very well, both of them—you will at least let me see your face. YOUNG WIFE Do you really love me, Alfred? YOUNG MAN (_Deeply hurt_) Emma! You ask me… YOUNG WIFE It’s so warm here. YOUNG MAN You’re still wearing your fur-coat—really, you will catch cold. YOUNG WIFE (_Finally enters the room, and throws herself into the armchair_) I’m tired—dead tired. YOUNG MAN Permit me. (_He takes off her veil, removes her hat-pin, and puts hat, pin, and veil aside_) YOUNG WIFE (_Permits it_) YOUNG MAN (_Stands before her, and shakes his head_) YOUNG WIFE What is the matter? YOUNG MAN You’ve never been so beautiful. YOUNG WIFE How is that? YOUNG MAN Alone … alone with you—Emma— (_He kneels down beside her chair, takes both her hands, and covers them with kisses_) YOUNG WIFE And now … now let me go again. I have done what you asked me to do. YOUNG MAN (_Lets his head sink into her lap_) YOUNG WIFE You promised me to be good. YOUNG MAN Yes. YOUNG WIFE It is stifling hot in this room. YOUNG MAN (_Gets up_) You still have your coat on. YOUNG WIFE Put it with my hat. YOUNG MAN (_Takes off her coat, and puts it on the sofa_) YOUNG WIFE And now—good-by— YOUNG MAN Emma—! Emma—! YOUNG WIFE The five minutes are long past. YOUNG MAN Not one yet!— YOUNG WIFE Alfred, tell me truly now, how late it is. YOUNG MAN It is now exactly a quarter past six. YOUNG WIFE I should have been at my sister’s long ago. YOUNG MAN You can see your sister any time… YOUNG WIFE Oh, Merciful Heaven, Alfred, why did you tempt me to come? YOUNG MAN Because … I adore you, Emma! YOUNG WIFE To how many have you said the same thing? YOUNG MAN Since I met you, to no one. YOUNG WIFE What a foolish woman I am! If anybody had predicted … just a week ago … or even yesterday… YOUNG MAN But you had already promised me the day before yesterday. YOUNG WIFE You plagued me so. But I didn’t want to do it. God is my witness—I didn’t want to do it… Yesterday, I was firmly decided… Do you know I even wrote you a long letter last night? YOUNG MAN I didn’t receive any. YOUNG WIFE I tore it up later. Oh, if only I had sent it to you. YOUNG MAN It is better as it is. YOUNG WIFE Oh, no, it’s awful … of me. I don’t understand myself. Good-by, Alfred, let me go. YOUNG MAN (_Seizes her, and covers her face with burning kisses_) YOUNG WIFE So … is that the way you keep your word… YOUNG MAN One more kiss—one more. YOUNG WIFE The last. (_He kisses her, and she returns the kiss; their lips remain joined for a long time_) YOUNG MAN Shall I tell you something, Emma? It is now for the first time that I know what happiness is. YOUNG WIFE (_Sinks back into the armchair_) YOUNG MAN (_Sits on the arm of the chair, and puts one arm lightly about her neck_) … or rather, I know now what happiness might be. YOUNG WIFE (_Sighs deeply_) YOUNG MAN (_Kisses her again_) YOUNG WIFE Alfred—Alfred, what are you doing to me! YOUNG MAN Wasn’t I right?—It isn’t so awfully uncomfortable here… And we are so safe here. It’s a thousand times better than those meetings outdoors… YOUNG WIFE Oh, don’t remind me of them. YOUNG MAN I shall always recall them with a thousand delights. Every minute you have let me spend with you is a sweet memory. YOUNG WIFE Do you remember the ball at the Manufacturers’ Club? YOUNG MAN Do I remember it…? I sat beside you through the whole supper—quite close to you. Your husband had champagne… YOUNG WIFE (_Looks at him with a hurt expression_) YOUNG MAN I meant to speak only of the champagne. Emma, would you like a glass of cognac? YOUNG WIFE Only a drop, but first give me a glass of water. YOUNG MAN Surely… But where is—oh, yes, I remember… (_He opens the portières, and goes into the bedroom_) YOUNG WIFE (_Follows him with her eyes_) YOUNG MAN (_Comes back with a water-bottle and two glasses_) YOUNG WIFE Where have you been? YOUNG MAN In … the adjoining room. (_Pours her a glass of water_) YOUNG WIFE Now I’m going to ask you something, Alfred—and you must tell me the truth. YOUNG MAN I swear— YOUNG WIFE Has there ever been any other woman in these rooms? YOUNG MAN But, Emma—this house was built twenty years ago!— YOUNG WIFE You know what I mean, Alfred … in these rooms, with you! YOUNG MAN With me—here—Emma!—It’s not kind of you even to imagine such a thing. YOUNG WIFE Then there was … how shall I… But, no, I’d rather not ask. It is better that I shouldn’t ask. It’s my own fault. Every fault has its punishment. YOUNG MAN But what is wrong? What is the matter with you? What fault? YOUNG WIFE No, no, no, I mustn’t think… Otherwise I would sink through the floor with shame. YOUNG MAN (_With the water-bottle in his hand, shakes his head sadly_) Emma, if you only knew how you hurt me. YOUNG WIFE (_Pours a glass of cognac_) YOUNG MAN I want to tell you something, Emma. If you’re ashamed of being here—if you don’t care for me—if you don’t feel you are all the happiness in the world for me—then you’d better go.— YOUNG WIFE Yes, I shall go. YOUNG MAN (_Taking hold of her hand_) But if you feel that I cannot live without you, that a kiss upon your hand means more to me than all the caresses of all the women in the whole world… Emma, I’m not like other young men, who are experienced in love-making—perhaps, I am too naïve … I… YOUNG WIFE But suppose you were like other young men? YOUNG MAN Then you wouldn’t be here to-night—because you are not like other women. YOUNG WIFE How do you know that? YOUNG MAN (_Drawing her close beside him on the sofa_) I have thought a lot about it. I know you are unhappy. YOUNG WIFE (_Pleased_) Yes. YOUNG MAN Life is so dreary, so empty—and then,—so short—so horribly short! There is only one happiness—to find some one who loves you.— YOUNG WIFE (_Takes a candied pear from the table, and puts it into her mouth_) YOUNG MAN Give me half of it! (_She offers it to him with her lips_) YOUNG WIFE (_Catches the hands of the Young Man that threaten to stray_) What are you doing, Alfred?… Is that the way you keep your promise? YOUNG MAN (_Swallows the pear, then, more daringly_) Life is so short. YOUNG WIFE (_Weakly_) But that’s no reason— YOUNG MAN (_Mechanically_) Oh, yes. YOUNG WIFE (_Still more weakly_) Alfred, you promised to be good … and then it’s so light… YOUNG MAN Come, come, you only, only… (_He lifts her from the sofa_) YOUNG WIFE What are you doing? YOUNG MAN It’s not so light in the other room. YOUNG WIFE Is there another room? YOUNG MAN (_Drawing her with him_) A beautiful one … and quite dark. YOUNG WIFE We’d better stay in here. YOUNG MAN (_Already past the bedroom portières with her, loosening her waist_) YOUNG WIFE You are so… O merciful Heaven, what are you doing with me!—Alfred! YOUNG MAN I adore you, Emma! YOUNG WIFE So then wait, wait a little… (_Weakly_) Go… I’ll call you. YOUNG MAN Let you help me—let us help you (_becoming confused_) … let … me—help—you. YOUNG WIFE But you’ll tear everything. YOUNG MAN You have no corset on? YOUNG WIFE I never wear a corset. Odilon[2] doesn’t wear any either. But you can unbutton my shoes. YOUNG MAN (_Unbuttons her shoes and kisses her feet_) YOUNG WIFE (_Slips into bed_) Oh, how cold it is. YOUNG MAN It’ll be warm in a minute. YOUNG WIFE (_Laughing softly_) Do you think so? YOUNG MAN (_Slightly hurt, to himself_) She ought not to have said that. (_He undresses in the dark_) YOUNG WIFE (_Tenderly_) Come, come, come! YOUNG MAN (_Mollified_) In a minute, dear— YOUNG WIFE It smells like violets here. YOUNG MAN That’s you… Yes (_To her_) you, yourself. YOUNG WIFE Alfred… Alfred!!!! YOUNG MAN Emma… * * * * * YOUNG MAN Apparently I love you too much … yes… I am as if out of my senses. YOUNG WIFE … … YOUNG MAN I have been beside myself all these days. I was afraid of this. YOUNG WIFE Don’t mind. YOUNG MAN Oh, certainly not. It’s perfectly natural, if one… YOUNG WIFE No … don’t… You are nervous. Calm yourself first. YOUNG MAN Do you know Stendhal? YOUNG WIFE Stendhal? YOUNG MAN The “Psychologie de l’amour.” YOUNG WIFE No. Why do you ask me? YOUNG MAN There’s a story in that book which is very much to the point. YOUNG WIFE What kind of a story? YOUNG MAN There is a gathering of cavalry officers— YOUNG WIFE Yes. YOUNG MAN And they are telling each other about their love affairs. And each one of them tells that with the woman he loved best—most passionately, you know … that with him, that then—well, in short, that the same thing happened just as it happened to me now. YOUNG WIFE Yes. YOUNG MAN That is very characteristic. YOUNG WIFE Yes. YOUNG MAN The story is not yet ended. One of them maintained … that this thing had never in his life happened to him, but, adds Stendhal—he was known as a great boaster. YOUNG WIFE And.— YOUNG MAN And, yet, it makes you feel blue—that’s the stupid side of it, even though it’s so unimportant. YOUNG WIFE Of course. Anyway, you know … you promised me to be good. YOUNG MAN Sh-h! Don’t laugh. That doesn’t help things any. YOUNG WIFE But no, I’m not laughing. That story of Stendhal’s is really interesting. I have always thought that only older people … or people who … you know, people who have lived fast… YOUNG MAN The idea! That has nothing to do with it. By the way, I had completely forgotten the prettiest of Stendhal’s stories. One of the cavalry officers went so far as to say that he stayed for three or even six nights… I don’t remember now—that is he stayed with a woman, whom he wanted for weeks—_desirée_—you understand—and nothing happened all those nights except that they wept for happiness … both… YOUNG WIFE Both? YOUNG MAN Yes. Does that surprise you? It seems very comprehensible—especially when two people love each other. YOUNG WIFE But surely there are many who don’t weep. YOUNG MAN (_Nervously_) Certainly … however, that is an exceptional case. YOUNG WIFE Oh—I thought Stendhal said that all cavalry officers weep on such an occasion. YOUNG MAN Look here, now you are laughing at me. YOUNG WIFE What an idea! Don’t be childish, Alfred. YOUNG MAN Well, it makes me nervous anyway… Besides I have the feeling that you are thinking about it all the time. That embarrasses me still more. YOUNG WIFE I’m not thinking of it at all. YOUNG MAN If I were only sure that you love me. YOUNG WIFE Do you want still further proofs? YOUNG MAN Didn’t I tell you … you are always laughing at me. YOUNG WIFE How so? Come, let me hold your sweet little head. YOUNG MAN Oh, that feels so good. YOUNG WIFE Do you love me? YOUNG MAN Oh, I’m so happy. YOUNG WIFE But you needn’t cry about it. YOUNG MAN (_Moving away from her, highly irritated_) There! Again! I begged you not to… YOUNG WIFE To tell you that you shouldn’t cry… YOUNG MAN You said: “You needn’t cry about it.” YOUNG WIFE You are nervous, sweetheart. YOUNG MAN I know. YOUNG WIFE But you ought not to be. It is beautiful even that … that we are together like good comrades… YOUNG MAN Now you are beginning again. YOUNG WIFE Don’t you remember! That was one of our first talks. We wanted to be comrades, nothing more. Oh, how nice that was … at my sister’s ball in January, during the quadrille… For heaven’s sake, I should have gone long ago… My sister expects me—what shall I tell her… Good-by, Alfred— YOUNG MAN Emma!—You will leave me in this way! YOUNG WIFE Yes—so!— YOUNG MAN Five minutes more… YOUNG WIFE All right. Five minutes more. But you must promise me … not to move?… Yes?… I want to give you a good-by kiss… Psst … be still … don’t move, I told you, otherwise I’ll get up at once, you, my sweetheart, sweet… YOUNG MAN Emma … my ador… … * * * * * YOUNG WIFE My Alfred! YOUNG MAN Oh, it is heaven to be with you. YOUNG WIFE But now I’ve really got to go. YOUNG MAN Oh, let your sister wait. YOUNG WIFE I must go home. It is much too late to see my sister. How late is it? YOUNG MAN How should I know? YOUNG WIFE You might look at your watch. YOUNG MAN My watch is in my waistcoat. YOUNG WIFE Get it. YOUNG MAN (_Gets up with a jump_) Eight o’clock. YOUNG WIFE (_Jumps up quickly_) For heaven’s sake… Quick, Alfred, give me my stockings. What shall I say? They must be waiting for me at home … eight o’clock… YOUNG MAN When shall I see you again? YOUNG WIFE Never. YOUNG MAN Emma! Don’t you love me any more? YOUNG WIFE Just for that reason. Give me my shoes. YOUNG MAN Never again? Here are your shoes. YOUNG WIFE My button-hook is in my bag. Please, be quick… YOUNG MAN Here is the button-hook. YOUNG WIFE Alfred, this may cost us our lives. YOUNG MAN (_Unpleasantly moved_) In what way? YOUNG WIFE What shall I say, if he asks me where I’ve been? YOUNG MAN At your sister’s. YOUNG WIFE Oh, if I only could lie. YOUNG MAN Well, you’ll have to. YOUNG WIFE Everything for a man like you. Oh, come here … let me give you a last kiss. (_She embraces him_)—And now—leave me by myself, go in the other room.—I can’t dress, if you are around. YOUNG MAN (_Goes into the drawing-room, where he dresses. He eats some pastry and drinks a glass of cognac_) YOUNG WIFE (_Calls after a while_) Alfred! YOUNG MAN Yes, sweetheart. YOUNG WIFE Isn’t it better that we didn’t weep? YOUNG MAN (_Smiling, not without pride_) How can you talk so frivolously?— YOUNG WIFE Oh, how difficult it will be now—if we should meet by chance in company? YOUNG MAN By chance?—sometime?… Surely you are coming to Lobheimer’s to-morrow? YOUNG WIFE Yes. You too? YOUNG MAN Of course. May I ask for the cotillion? YOUNG WIFE Oh, I shall not go. What do you imagine?—I would… (_She enters the drawing-room fully dressed, and takes a piece of chocolate pastry_) sink through the floor. YOUNG MAN To-morrow at Lobheimer’s. That’s fine. YOUNG WIFE No, no… I shall decline … certainly decline— YOUNG MAN Well, the day after to-morrow … here. YOUNG WIFE The idea! YOUNG MAN At six… YOUNG WIFE There are cabs at this corner, aren’t there? YOUNG MAN Yes, as many as you want. Well, the day after to-morrow, here at six o’clock. Please say “yes,” sweetheart. YOUNG WIFE … We’ll discuss that to-morrow night during the cotillion. YOUNG MAN (_Embracing her_) My angel. YOUNG WIFE Don’t muss my hair again. YOUNG MAN Well then, to-morrow night at Lobheimer’s, and the day after to-morrow in my arms. YOUNG WIFE Good-by… YOUNG MAN (_Suddenly anxious again_) And what will you—tell him to-night?— YOUNG WIFE Don’t ask me … don’t ask me … it’s too terrible.—Why do I love you so?—Good-by—If I meet any one again on the stairway, I shall faint.—Ugh! YOUNG MAN (_Kisses her hand for the last time_) YOUNG WIFE (_Exit_) YOUNG MAN (_Remains standing. Then he sits down on the couch. He smiles reflectively, and says to himself_) Now, at last, I have an affair with a respectable woman. THE YOUNG WIFE AND THE HUSBAND _A comfortable bedroom. It is half past ten at night. The WIFE is lying abed and reading. The HUSBAND enters the room in a dressing gown._ YOUNG WIFE (_Without looking up_) You have stopped working? HUSBAND Yes. I’m too tired. And besides… YOUNG WIFE Well?— HUSBAND I felt so lonely at my desk all at once. A longing for you came over me. YOUNG WIFE (_Looking up_) Really? HUSBAND (_Sitting down on the bed beside her_) Don’t read any more to-night. You will ruin your eyes. YOUNG WIFE (_Closing the book_) What’s the matter with you? HUSBAND Nothing, child. I’m in love with you. But you know that. YOUNG WIFE One might almost forget it sometimes. HUSBAND One _must_ forget it sometimes. YOUNG WIFE Why? HUSBAND Because, otherwise, marriage would be something imperfect. It would … how shall I express it … it would lose its sanctity. YOUNG WIFE Oh… HUSBAND Believe me—it is so… If we hadn’t sometimes forgotten that we are in love with each other during the five years we have been married—we might not be in love any longer. YOUNG WIFE That’s beyond me. HUSBAND The case is simply this. We have had perhaps ten or twelve love-affairs with each other… Doesn’t it seem that way to you, too? YOUNG WIFE I haven’t counted them! HUSBAND If we had enjoyed the first one to the last drop, if I had from the very beginning surrendered without restraint to my passion for you, the same thing would have happened to us that has happened to millions of other lovers. We would be tired of each other. YOUNG WIFE Ah … do you mean that? HUSBAND Believe me—Emma—in the early days of our marriage, I was afraid that this would happen. YOUNG WIFE I, too. HUSBAND See? Am I not right? Therefore, it is wise every now and then to live only as good friends. YOUNG WIFE Oh. HUSBAND And some can always experience new honeymoons, especially since I am careful never to let such weeks of honeymoon… YOUNG WIFE Run into months. HUSBAND That is true. YOUNG WIFE And now … now it seems we are at the end of another such period of friendship—? HUSBAND (_Pressing her tenderly to him_) So it might seem. YOUNG WIFE But if … if I should feel differently? HUSBAND You couldn’t. You are the wisest and most delicious being in the world. I am very happy to have found you. YOUNG WIFE You know how to make love very well—every now and then. HUSBAND (_Who has also gone to bed_) Well, for a man who has looked about in the world a bit—come, lay your head on my shoulder—who has seen something of the world, marriage is really something much more mysterious than it is for you sheltered young girls. You come to us entirely innocent and … to a certain degree, at least, ignorant of things, and therefore you really understand the essence of love much better than we. YOUNG WIFE (_Laughing_) Oh! HUSBAND Certainly. For we get all tangled up by the many experiences that we have to go through before marriage. You women, of course, hear a lot of things, you know a lot of things, no doubt read too much, but you can’t have any real idea of the things men experience. We men really become quite disgusted with this thing people call love, for the kind of creatures to which we are restricted really are… YOUNG WIFE Tell me—what kind of creatures are they? HUSBAND (_Kissing her on the forehead_) You ought to be glad, dear child, that you never have had a glimpse of relations like that. After all most of the poor things deserve pity—it is not for us to throw stones. YOUNG WIFE But—this pity—it doesn’t seem quite appropriate to me. HUSBAND (_With gentle benevolence_) They deserve it. You young girls of good family, who wait quietly under the care of your parents for the man who desires you in marriage,—you won’t know the misery that drives most of these poor creatures into the arms of sin. YOUNG WIFE Do all of them really sell themselves? HUSBAND I would hardly say that. I don’t mean the material misery alone. There is also—one might call it—a moral misery, a lack of appreciation for what is permissible, and, especially, for what is noble. YOUNG WIFE But why are they to be pitied?—They seem to enjoy themselves. HUSBAND You have strange ideas, my child. You must not forget that such people are predestined by nature to sink lower and lower. There is no stopping them. YOUNG WIFE (_Cuddling to him_) It seems pleasant to fall. HUSBAND (_Hurt_) How can you say things like that, Emma? I should think that to good women like you, nothing could be more repulsive than those who are not! YOUNG WIFE Of course, Karl, of course. I was just thinking. Go on, tell me more. I like it when you talk like this. Tell me something. HUSBAND What?— YOUNG WIFE Why—about these people. HUSBAND The idea! YOUNG WIFE But, I asked you a long time ago—you know, when we were first married to tell me something of your younger days. HUSBAND Why does that interest you? YOUNG WIFE Aren’t you my husband? Isn’t it a sort of injustice that I really know nothing about your past? HUSBAND You surely don’t think I have such bad taste, as to—No, Emma … it would be like a profanation. YOUNG WIFE And yet you have … heaven knows how many other women you have held in your arms, just as you are holding me now. HUSBAND Don’t say “women.” You are _the_ woman. YOUNG WIFE But you must answer one question … otherwise … otherwise … there won’t be any honeymoon. HUSBAND That’s a nice way to talk … remember you are a mother … our little girl is sleeping in there… YOUNG WIFE (_Snuggling against him_) But I want a boy, too. HUSBAND Emma! YOUNG WIFE Don’t be silly … of course, I am your wife … but I’d like also to be … to be your sweetheart. HUSBAND Would you?… YOUNG WIFE Well—now my question. HUSBAND (_Accommodating_) All right. YOUNG WIFE Was there … a married woman … amongst them? HUSBAND Why? What do you mean? YOUNG WIFE You know what I mean. HUSBAND (_Slightly disconcerted_) What makes you think of a thing like that? YOUNG WIFE I would like to know if … I mean—there are such women… I know that very well. But did you?… HUSBAND (_Seriously_) Do you know such a woman? YOUNG WIFE Well, I hardly know. HUSBAND Is there, perhaps, such a woman among your friends? YOUNG WIFE How can I be sure that there is—or that there isn’t? HUSBAND Did any of your friends … women talk about a lot of things—alone among themselves—did any of them ever confess—? YOUNG WIFE (_Uncertainly_) No. HUSBAND Do you suspect any of your friends—that she… YOUNG WIFE Suspect … oh … suspect. HUSBAND It would seem so. YOUNG WIFE No, indeed, Karl, most certainly not. When I think things over—I don’t believe there is any one. HUSBAND No one? YOUNG WIFE Not among my friends. HUSBAND Promise me something, Emma. YOUNG WIFE Well? HUSBAND That you will never associate with a woman about whom you have the slightest suspicion that she … doesn’t lead a completely blameless life. YOUNG WIFE And you think it necessary for me to promise that? HUSBAND I know that you will not seek out the company of such women. But, it might happen that you … in fact it often happens that such women, whose reputations are not of the best, seek out good women, partly to give them standing, and partly because they feel … how shall I say?… because they feel a certain homesickness for virtue. YOUNG WIFE Do they? HUSBAND Yes. I believe what I just said is very true. Homesickness for virtue. For all of these women are at heart very unhappy; you can believe that. YOUNG WIFE Why? HUSBAND You ask me, Emma?—How can you even ask?—Just imagine what a life these women lead! Full of lies, perfidy, vulgarity, and danger. YOUNG WIFE Yes, of course. You are right. HUSBAND Truly … they pay for their little happiness … their little… YOUNG WIFE Pleasure. HUSBAND Why “pleasure”? Why do you call it “pleasure”? YOUNG WIFE Well,—there must be something in it—! Otherwise, they wouldn’t do it. HUSBAND It is nothing … an intoxication. YOUNG WIFE (_Pensively_) An intoxication… HUSBAND No, it is not even intoxication. Like everything—it is dearly paid for, that much is certain. YOUNG WIFE Well … it has happened to you, hasn’t it? HUSBAND Yes, Emma.—And it is the thing I most regret. YOUNG WIFE Who was she? Tell me! Do I know her? HUSBAND The idea! YOUNG WIFE Was it long ago? Was it very long before you married me? HUSBAND Don’t ask me. Please, don’t ask. YOUNG WIFE But, Karl! HUSBAND She is dead. YOUNG WIFE Are you in earnest? HUSBAND Yes … it sounds almost ridiculous, but I have the feeling that all such women die young. YOUNG WIFE Did you love her very much? HUSBAND One doesn’t love women who lie. YOUNG WIFE Then why… HUSBAND An intoxication… YOUNG WIFE Really? HUSBAND Don’t talk about it any more, please. All that is passed long ago. I have only loved one woman—that is you. You only love where there is purity and truth. YOUNG WIFE Karl! HUSBAND Oh, how secure, how happy one feels in such arms. Why didn’t I know you as a child? I am sure I wouldn’t then even have looked at other women. YOUNG WIFE Karl! HUSBAND And how beautiful you are!… beautiful!… Oh, come… (_He puts the light out_) * * * * * YOUNG WIFE Do you know what I am thinking of to-night? HUSBAND What, sweetheart? YOUNG WIFE Of … of … of Venice. HUSBAND Our first night… YOUNG WIFE Yes… HUSBAND What then? Tell me! YOUNG WIFE You love me as much to-day. HUSBAND Yes, just as much. YOUNG WIFE Oh … if you would always… HUSBAND (_In her arms_) If I would what? YOUNG WIFE My Karl! HUSBAND What do you mean? If I would always?… YOUNG WIFE Well, yes. HUSBAND Well, what then, if I would always?… YOUNG WIFE Then I would always know that you love me. HUSBAND Yes. But you must know that anyway. One cannot always be a lover, sometimes one has to go out into the cold world to struggle and achieve! Don’t forget that, my child. There is a time for everything in marriage—that is the beauty of it. There are not many who can remember their Venice after five years. YOUNG WIFE True! HUSBAND And now … good-night, my child. YOUNG WIFE Good-night! THE HUSBAND AND THE SWEET YOUNG MISS _A private dining-room in the Riedhof, comfortably furnished with moderately good taste. A gas-grate is burning. The HUSBAND and the SWEET YOUNG MISS are disclosed. The remains of dinner are on the table, cream-cakes, fruit, cheese. In the wine-glasses is a Hungarian white wine._ HUSBAND (_Is smoking a Havana cigar, and leaning against the corner of a sofa_) MISS (_Sits beside him in an armchair, eating the cream out of a cake with a spoon, and tasting it with satisfaction_) HUSBAND Is it good? MISS (_Without stopping_) Oh! HUSBAND Do you want another? MISS No. I’ve eaten too much already. HUSBAND Your wine is all gone. (_He fills her glass_) MISS No … stop. I’ll leave it anyway. HUSBAND Why are you so shy? MISS Am I?—Well, it takes time to get acquainted. HUSBAND Come and sit here with me. MISS Right away… I’m not ready yet. HUSBAND (_Rises and stands behind her chair, and puts his arms around her, turning her face toward him_) MISS What’s the matter? HUSBAND I want a kiss. MISS (_Kissing him_) You are … excuse me, you have a lot of nerve. HUSBAND You’re just finding that out? MISS Oh, no, I knew that long ago … from the first, in the street.—You must— HUSBAND What? MISS You must have a nice opinion of me. HUSBAND Why? MISS Because I went right away with you to a private dining room. HUSBAND Well, you can hardly say “right away.” MISS But you asked in such a nice way. HUSBAND Do you think so? MISS And, after all, what is the harm? HUSBAND Of course. MISS Whether we go walking or— HUSBAND Besides, it’s much too cold for walking. MISS Yes, it was too cold. HUSBAND But here it’s nice and warm, isn’t it? (_He sits down again, puts his arms around the girl, and draws her to his side_) MISS (_Weakly_) Don’t. HUSBAND Tell me… You noticed me before, didn’t you? MISS Certainly. Several blocks before you spoke to me. HUSBAND I don’t mean to-day. I mean yesterday and the day before, when I was following you. MISS A lot of people follow me. HUSBAND I don’t doubt that. But did you notice me? MISS Guess … do you know what happened to me the other day? My cousin’s husband followed me in the dark, and didn’t recognize me. HUSBAND Did he speak to you? MISS What do you suppose? Do you imagine every one is as bold as you? HUSBAND But they sometimes do, don’t they? MISS Of course, they do. HUSBAND Well, and what do you do? MISS Why nothing—I just don’t answer. HUSBAND Hm-m … but you answered me. MISS Are you sorry? HUSBAND (_Kisses her violently_) Your lips taste like cream-cakes. MISS Oh, they are sweet by nature. HUSBAND I suppose many have told you that? MISS Many! What are you dreaming of? HUSBAND Now, be honest. How many have kissed this mouth before? MISS Why do you ask? You wouldn’t believe me anyhow, if I told you. HUSBAND Why not? MISS Guess, then. HUSBAND All right, I’ll guess—but you mustn’t get angry! MISS Why should I get angry? HUSBAND Well, then, I’ll guess … twenty. MISS (_Slipping away from him_) So—why not make it a hundred? HUSBAND Oh, I was just guessing. MISS You guessed badly. HUSBAND Say—ten. MISS (_Offended_) Oh, of course. A girl who lets a man talk to her on the street, and goes right away with him to a private dining-room! HUSBAND Don’t be childish. Whether we walk about in the streets or sit in a room… We are in a restaurant. The waiter may come in at any moment—it doesn’t signify anything at all… MISS That’s just what I thought. HUSBAND Have you ever been in a private dining-room before? MISS If I must tell the truth—yes. HUSBAND I am glad that you are honest with me at least. MISS But it wasn’t—no it wasn’t the way you imagine. I was in a private dining-room with a friend and her fiancé, once during the carnival. HUSBAND It wouldn’t have been anything tragic, if you had ever gone—with your sweetheart— MISS Of course, it wouldn’t have been anything serious. But I haven’t any sweetheart. HUSBAND Oh, come now. MISS I swear, I haven’t. HUSBAND But you don’t expect to make me believe that I… MISS Make you believe what?… I haven’t any—at least, haven’t had for six months. HUSBAND I see… But before then? Who was he? MISS Why are you so curious? HUSBAND I am curious because I love you. MISS Really? HUSBAND Of course! You should have noticed that. Tell me about him. (_Presses her tightly to him_) MISS What do you want me to tell? HUSBAND Don’t keep me in suspense so long. Who was he, that’s what I want to know. MISS (_Laughing_) Just a man. HUSBAND Well—well—who? MISS He looked something like you. HUSBAND No! MISS If you hadn’t looked so much like him— HUSBAND Well, what then? MISS Now, don’t ask, don’t you see that… HUSBAND (_Understanding_) That’s why you let me speak to you. MISS Yes, that’s it. HUSBAND I really don’t know whether I ought to be pleased or angry. MISS If I were you, I’d be pleased. HUSBAND All right. MISS You also remind me of him the way you speak … and the way you look at one… HUSBAND What was he? MISS And then, the eyes— HUSBAND What was his name? MISS Please don’t look at me that way; please don’t. HUSBAND (_Embraces her. A long, burning kiss_) MISS (_Trembles, and tries to get up_) HUSBAND Why do you want to leave me? MISS It’s time to go home. HUSBAND Later. MISS No, I really have to get home. What do you think mother will say. HUSBAND You live with your mother? MISS Of course, I live with my mother. What did you imagine? HUSBAND So—with your mother. Do you live alone with her? MISS Oh, yes, alone! There are five of us! Two boys and two more girls. HUSBAND Don’t sit so far away from me. Are you the oldest? MISS No, I’m the second. First comes Kitty. She’s working in a flower store. Then come I. HUSBAND Where do you work? MISS I stay at home. HUSBAND Always? MISS One of us has to stay home. HUSBAND Of course,—and what do you tell your mother, when you—come home so late? MISS That happens so seldom. HUSBAND Well, to-day, for example. Your mother will ask you, won’t she? MISS Of course, she’ll ask. It doesn’t matter how careful I am when I come home, she always wakes up. HUSBAND And what do you tell her? MISS Oh—that I’ve been to the theater. HUSBAND Does she believe that? MISS Why shouldn’t she believe it? I often go to the theater. I saw an opera on Sunday with my friend and her fiancé, and my oldest brother. HUSBAND Where did you get the tickets? MISS My brother is a hairdresser. HUSBAND Oh, yes, a hairdresser … at the theater, I suppose? MISS Why are you asking so many questions? HUSBAND Because I am interested. What does your other brother do? MISS He’s still going to school. He wants to become a teacher. Just imagine! HUSBAND And you also have a little sister? MISS Yes, she is a mere child, but you have to keep an eye on her all the time already. You have no idea how girls are spoiled at school. Just imagine! The other day I caught her keeping a date. HUSBAND Really? MISS Yes! She was out walking one evening at half-past seven with a boy from the school across the way. A mere child like her! HUSBAND And what did you do? MISS I gave her a spanking. HUSBAND Are you as strict as all that? MISS Well, who would be if I wasn’t? My older sister is working and mother does nothing but grumble—everything always depends on me. HUSBAND You are a dear, sweet girl! (_Kisses her, and grows more tender_) You also remind me of some one. MISS So—of whom? HUSBAND Of no one in particular … of bygone days … of my youth. Come, drink, child! MISS How old are you?… You … why … I don’t even know your name. HUSBAND Karl. MISS Is it possible? Your name is Karl? HUSBAND Was his name also Karl? MISS No, but that’s the queer thing … that is … the eyes … (_shaking her head_) the way you look at me… HUSBAND And who was he?—You haven’t told me yet. MISS Oh, he was a bad man—that’s sure, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone away. HUSBAND Did you love him very much? MISS Of course, I loved him. HUSBAND I know what he was—a lieutenant. MISS No, he wasn’t in the army. He couldn’t pass the examinations. His father owns a house in … but why do you have to know? HUSBAND (_Kisses her_) You have gray eyes. I thought, at first, they were black. MISS Well aren’t they pretty enough? HUSBAND (_Kisses her eyes_) MISS Don’t please—I can’t bear it… O, please don’t … let me get up … only for a moment—please. HUSBAND (_More tenderly still_) No, indeed. MISS But, please, Karl… HUSBAND How old are you?—eighteen—isn’t it? MISS Just past nineteen. HUSBAND Nineteen … and I— MISS You are thirty… HUSBAND And a little more—Don’t let’s talk about it. MISS He was thirty-two, when I first met him. HUSBAND How long ago was that? MISS I don’t remember… Listen, there must have been something in the wine. HUSBAND What makes you think so? MISS I am quite … see—everything is turning round about me. HUSBAND Then hold tight to me. So… (_He holds her close to him, and becomes more and more tender. She hardly resists_) I’ll tell you something, dear, we might go now. MISS Yes … home. HUSBAND Well, not exactly home… MISS What do you mean?… O, no—no… I won’t go anywhere else. What do you think I am? HUSBAND But listen to me, child—the next time we meet, you know, we will arrange it so that … (_He has slipped to the floor with his head in her lap_) This is so comfy, oh, so comfy! MISS What are you doing? (_She kisses his hair_) Something must have been in that wine—I’m so sleepy … what would happen, if I couldn’t get up again? But, but—look, but Karl … if some one should come in … please … the waiter. HUSBAND No … waiter … will ever come in … here… * * * * * MISS (_Leaning with closed eyes in the corner of the sofa_) HUSBAND (_Pacing up and down the little room, after having lighted a cigarette_) (_Long silence_) HUSBAND (_Looking for a long time at the girl; speaking to himself_) Who knows what sort of a person she really is—Confound it … so quickly … that wasn’t very cautious of me … hm-m… MISS (_Without opening her eyes_) There must have been something in the wine. HUSBAND Why? MISS Otherwise… HUSBAND Why do you blame everything on the wine?… MISS Where are you? Why do you stay so far away? Come to me. HUSBAND (_Sits beside her_) MISS Now tell me if you really love me. HUSBAND But you know that… (_He interrupts himself quickly_) Of course. MISS Listen… There must have … come, tell me the truth, what was in the wine. HUSBAND Well, do you think I … I would drug your wine? MISS Well, see, I can’t understand it. I’m really not that kind… We’ve known each other only since… Dear, I’m not that kind … honestly, I’m not—if you think that of me— HUSBAND Well—why worry about that? I don’t think anything bad of you. I only think that you love me. MISS Yes… HUSBAND After all, when two young people are alone in a room, and have dinner, and drink wine … there doesn’t need to be anything in the wine. MISS I merely said it to say something. HUSBAND But, why? MISS (_Almost defiantly_) Because I was ashamed. HUSBAND How absurd! There is no reason to be. Especially, since I made you think of your first sweetheart. MISS Yes. HUSBAND Your _first_ sweetheart. MISS Yes, yes… HUSBAND Now I should like to know who the others were. MISS There weren’t any. HUSBAND That is not true, it can’t be true. MISS Oh, please, don’t tease me. HUSBAND Would you like a cigarette? MISS No, thanks. HUSBAND Do you know how late it is? MISS Well? HUSBAND Half-past eleven. MISS Really? HUSBAND Well … and your mother? She’s used to this, is she? MISS Do you really want to send me home? HUSBAND But earlier in the evening you yourself wanted— MISS You are quite changed. What have I done to you? HUSBAND But, child, what is the matter with you, what do you imagine? MISS And it was only your looks, believe me, or you would have had to wait … many men have asked me to go with them to a private dining-room. HUSBAND Well, would you like … to come here again with me soon … or rather somewhere else? MISS I don’t know. HUSBAND What do you mean by, “I don’t know”? MISS Well, why don’t you make a date? HUSBAND When? First of all, I must explain that I do not live in Vienna. I am only here for a few days’ visit now and then. MISS Oh, you’re not a Viennese? HUSBAND Yes, I am a Viennese. But I am living out of town now… MISS Where? HUSBAND Oh, well, that doesn’t matter. MISS Oh, don’t be frightened, I won’t come to see you. HUSBAND If it would give you any pleasure you may come. I live in Graz. MISS Honestly? HUSBAND Yes, why does that surprise you? MISS You are married, aren’t you? HUSBAND (_Greatly surprised_) What makes you think that? MISS I just got the impression. HUSBAND And you wouldn’t mind that at all? MISS Well, I would rather that you were single.—So you are married!— HUSBAND But, tell me first what made you think of that? MISS If a man says he doesn’t live in Vienna, and he doesn’t always have time— HUSBAND But that’s not so improbable. MISS I don’t believe it. HUSBAND And wouldn’t it hurt your conscience to have caused a married man to become unfaithful? MISS Oh, my, no doubt your wife acts just like you. HUSBAND (_Very indignant_) That will do. No more of such remarks. MISS I thought you didn’t have a wife. HUSBAND Whether I have one or not—such remarks are uncalled for. (_He has risen_) MISS But Karl, Karl, what is the matter? Are you angry? I really didn’t know that you were married. I was just talking. Come, don’t be angry. HUSBAND (_Comes back to her after a few minutes_) You are strange creatures, you … women. (_He becomes tender again_) MISS Stop … don’t … it’s too late now. HUSBAND Well, listen to me a minute. Let’s talk seriously. I would like to see you again, to see you often. MISS Would you? HUSBAND But one thing is necessary … that I can depend upon you. I can’t look out for you. MISS Oh, I can look out for myself. HUSBAND You are … well, I can’t just say inexperienced—but, you are young—and—men in general are pretty unscrupulous. MISS Oh, my! HUSBAND I don’t mean on the moral side only.—Well, you know what I mean— MISS Tell me, what do you think I am? HUSBAND Look here—if you want me—me only—we can easily arrange it—even if I do generally live in Graz. In a place like this where some one may come in at any moment, it isn’t very comfortable. MISS (_Snuggles up to him_) HUSBAND Next time … we shall go somewhere else, won’t we? MISS Yes. HUSBAND Where we may be entirely alone. MISS Yes. HUSBAND (_Embracing her passionately_) We’ll discuss the rest on the way home. (_He rises, and opens the door_) Waiter … the bill! THE SWEET YOUNG MISS AND THE POET _A small room, furnished with taste and comfort. Red curtains half-darken the room. A large writing-table strewn with books and papers. A piano against the wall. The SWEET YOUNG MISS and the POET are disclosed. They are just entering. The POET closes the door._ POET (_Kisses her_) My darling! MISS (_With hat and coat_) Oh! It’s very pretty here! Only you can’t see anything! POET Your eyes will have to get used to this semi-darkness.—Those sweet eyes— (_Kisses her eyes_) MISS But there won’t be time enough. POET Why not? MISS Because I can only stop a moment. POET But, you can take your hat off, can’t you? MISS Just for the sake of a minute? POET (_Takes the pin out of her hat which he removes_) And your coat— MISS The idea!—I have to leave right away. POET But you must rest a while first. We have been walking for three hours. MISS Riding, you mean. POET Yes, we rode home—but we ran around for a full three hours in the country. Now come, sit down, child … wherever you like—here at my desk;—no, that’s not comfortable. Sit down on the sofa.—That’s it. (_He presses her down_) If you are very tired, you may as well lie down. So. (_He stretches her out on the sofa_) There, put your head on the cushion. MISS (_Laughing_) But I’m not tired at all! POET You merely imagine you’re not. So—and if you are sleepy, you can go to sleep. I shall be very quiet. And what’s more I can play you a lullaby … one of my own… (_He goes to the piano_) MISS One of yours. POET Yes. MISS But I thought, Robert, you were a professor. POET I? But I told you I was a writer. But what made you think of that? MISS Because you said the piece you are playing is your own. POET Yes … perhaps it is, perhaps it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter. Well? Anyway it doesn’t matter who composed it, if only it is beautiful. Don’t you agree? MISS Of course … it must be beautiful … that’s the chief thing!— POET Do you know what I meant by that? MISS By what? POET By what I just said. MISS (_Sleepily_) Of course I do. POET (_Gets up, goes to her, and strokes her hair_) You didn’t understand a word. MISS I’m not as stupid as that. POET Certainly you are, but that is just the reason why I love you. It is so beautiful, when girls are stupid. I mean in the way you are. MISS Go on, you are talking nonsense. POET Angel, little one! Isn’t it comfy on this soft, Persian couch cover? MISS Indeed, it is. Won’t you play something else on the piano? POET No, I’d rather stay near you. (_Caressing her_) MISS But hadn’t you better light the lamp? POET Oh, no… The dim light is so restful. We were as if bathed in sunbeams all day. Now we’ve just climbed out of the bath and slipped on … the twilight like a bathrobe—(_Laughs_) No—that ought to be expressed differently… Don’t you think so? MISS I don’t know. POET (_Moves slightly away from her_) Absolutely divine, this stupidity! (_He takes out a notebook, and writes a few words in it_) MISS What are you doing? (_She turns toward him_) What are you writing? POET (_Softly_) Sun, bath, twilight, cloak … so… (_He puts the notebook back. Aloud_) Nothing… Now tell me, sweetheart, wouldn’t you like something to eat or drink? MISS I’m not thirsty, but I am hungry. POET Hm … it would suit me better, if you were thirsty. I have some cognac at home, but I have to send out for food. MISS Can’t you send somebody? POET That is difficult, my servant isn’t here now—but, wait a minute—I will go myself … what would you like? MISS Oh, really don’t bother; I have to go home anyway. POET Child, that’s out of the question. Now I will tell you something; when we leave, we will go together somewhere for supper. MISS Oh, no. I haven’t time for that. And, then, where could we go? Somebody we know might see us. POET Do you know such a lot of people? MISS Well, it takes only one to make trouble for us. POET Why trouble? MISS Well, suppose mother should hear about it… POET We can go somewhere, where no one can see us. There are plenty of restaurants with private dining-rooms. MISS (_Singing_) “Let’s dine in a chambre separée!” POET Have you ever been in a private dining-room? MISS To tell the truth—yes. POET Who was the happy man? MISS Oh, it wasn’t the way you imagine… I went with a friend and her fiancé. They took me along. POET And you expect me to believe that? MISS You needn’t believe it! POET (_Close to her_) Did you blush? You can hardly see anything. I can’t even distinguish your features. (_He touches her cheeks with his hands_) But even so I recognize you. MISS Well, be careful that you don’t take me for some one else. POET It is strange, I don’t seem to remember how you look. MISS Thank you! POET (_Seriously_) It is almost uncanny. I can’t imagine any longer how you look—In a certain way I have already forgotten you—Now, if I couldn’t remember even the sound of your voice … what would you do then?—Something near and far away at the same time … it’s uncanny. MISS What are you talking about? POET Nothing, my angel, nothing. Where are your lips?… (_He kisses her_) MISS Wouldn’t it be better to light the lamp? POET No… (_Very tenderly_) Tell me, do you love me? MISS Very much … oh, so much! POET Have you ever loved any one as much as me? MISS I told you already that I didn’t. POET But… (_He sighs_) MISS He was my fiancé. POET I’d rather you wouldn’t think of him now. MISS Why … what’s the difference … look… POET We might imagine now that we were in a palace in India. MISS I’m sure people there wouldn’t be as wicked as you are. POET How idiotic! Perfectly divine—Ah, if you only know what you are to me… MISS Well? POET Don’t always push me away, I’m not going to hurt you— MISS My corset hurts me. POET (_Simply_) Take it off. MISS Yes. But you must behave. POET Of course! MISS (_Rises, and takes off her corset in the darkness_) POET (_Sits in the meantime on the sofa_) Tell me, aren’t you at all curious to know my name? MISS Yes, what is it? POET I’d rather not tell you my real name, but the name I go by. MISS What is the difference? POET I mean the name I use as a writer. MISS Oh, you don’t write under your real name? POET (_Close to her_) MISS Oh … stop … don’t. POET What fragrance! How sweet. (_He kisses her breasts_) MISS You are tearing my chemise. POET Away with it … away with it … everything is superfluous. MISS Oh, Robert. POET And now enter into our Indian palace. MISS Tell me first—do you really love me? POET I adore you. (_Kisses her passionately_) I adore you, my sweetheart, my springtime … my… MISS Robert … Robert… * * * * * POET It was heaven… My name is… MISS Robert—oh, my Robert! POET I call myself Biebitz. MISS Why do you call yourself Biebitz? POET My name is not Biebitz—I just use it as a pseudonym … well, don’t you recognize the name? MISS No. POET You don’t know the name Biebitz? Ah—Perfectly divine! Really? You are just pretending you don’t know it, aren’t you? MISS No really, I never heard it. POET Don’t you ever go to the theater? MISS Oh, yes—I was at the opera only the other day with—you know, with one of my friends and her uncle, to hear Cavalleria Rusticana. POET Hm, you don’t go then to see plays. MISS I never get tickets for them. POET I’ll send you a ticket soon. MISS Oh, do! And don’t forget it. But for something funny. POET Oh … something funny … you don’t care to see anything sad? MISS Not very much. POET Not even if it is a play of mine. MISS A play of yours? Do you write for the theater? POET Let me light a candle now. I haven’t seen you since you have become my best beloved—Angel! (_He lights a candle_) MISS Don’t. I’m ashamed. Give me a cover at least. POET Later! (_He approaches her with the light, and looks at her a long while_) MISS (_Covering her face with her hands_) Go away, Robert! POET You are beautiful, you are Beauty itself. You are Nature herself. You are the simplicity which is holy. MISS Ouch! You are dropping wax on me. Look, why aren’t you more careful? POET (_Puts the candle away_) You are that for which I have long sought. You love me for my own sake. You would love me even if I were only a counter-jumper. That’s balm to one’s heart. I must confess I was suspicious until this moment. Tell me, honestly, you didn’t have any notion that I am Biebitz? MISS Oh, pshaw, I don’t even know what you are talking about. I never heard of any Biebitz. POET What is fame! No, forget what I have told you. Forget even the name. I am Robert and I want to remain Robert to you. I was only joking. (_Lightly_) I am not a writer at all. I’m a clerk, and in the evening I play the piano in a dancehall. MISS But now I’m all mixed up … and the way you look at one. What is the matter, yes, what do you mean? POET It is very strange—something that has never happened to me, sweetheart; I am on the verge of tears. You move me deeply. We ought to live together. Will you? We will be very much in love with each other. MISS Is it true about the dancehall? POET Yes, but don’t ask any more about it. If you love me, don’t ask me anything. Tell me, can’t you get away for a few weeks? MISS How do you mean get away? POET Well, I mean, leave home? MISS How absurd! How could I! What would mother say? And without me everything would be topsy-turvy at home in no time. POET It would be so wonderful to live with you a few weeks, all alone with you, somewhere far away, in the forest, in the world of nature… Nature. And then, some day, “Good-by”—each going, without the other knowing where. MISS You are talking already about saying good-by. And I thought that you loved me such a lot. POET That is just the reason—(_Bends over her, and kisses her upon the forehead._) You sweet darling! MISS Please, hold me tight. I feel so cold. POET I fancy it’s time for you to dress. Wait, I’ll light a few more candles for you. MISS (_Rising_) Don’t look this way. POET No. (_At the window_) Tell me, child, are you happy? MISS What do you mean? POET I mean are you happy the way things are in general? MISS Well, they might be better. POET You misunderstand me. You have told me enough about your conditions at home. I know you are not a princess. Leaving all that aside, do you feel alive. Do you feel life pulsing through you? MISS Come, have you a comb? POET (_Goes to the dressing-table, hands her a comb, and watches her_) Good Lord, how lovely you look! MISS Please … don’t! POET Please, stay a while yet. I’ll get something for supper, and… MISS But it is awfully late already. POET It is not yet nine. MISS Dear me, I must hurry. Please! POET When shall I see you again? MISS When would you like to see me? POET To-morrow. MISS What day is to-morrow? POET Saturday. MISS Oh, then I can’t. I must take my little sister to her guardian. POET Then Sunday … hm … Sunday … on Sunday … now I’ll have to explain something to you.—I’m not Biebitz, but Biebitz is a friend of mine. I’ll introduce him to you sometime. Biebitz’s play will be given Sunday. I’ll send you tickets, and take you home after the performance. You will tell me then how you liked the play. Won’t you? MISS Here you are talking about this Biebitz again.—I don’t understand what it is all about. POET I won’t know you really, until I know what impression the play made on you. MISS Now … I’m ready. POET Come, sweetheart. (_They go out_) THE POET AND THE ACTRESS _A room in an inn in the country. It is an evening in spring; moonlight floods the meadows and hills; the windows are open. A deep silence reigns. The POET and the ACTRESS enter, and as they cross the threshold, the candle which the POET is carrying in his hand is blown out._ POET Oh… ACTRESS What’s the matter? POET The candle.—But we don’t need any. Look, how light it is. Wonderful! ACTRESS (_Sinks suddenly down at the window with her hands folded_) POET What’s the matter with you? ACTRESS (_Remains silent_) POET (_Going to her_) What are you doing? ACTRESS (_Indignant_) Can’t you see that I am praying?— POET Do you believe in God? ACTRESS Of course I do; I am not a fool. POET Oh, I see! ACTRESS Come, kneel down beside me. It will do you good to pray just once. None of the gems will drop out of your crown. POET (_Kneels beside her, and puts his arm around her waist_) ACTRESS Libertine!—(_Rises_). And do you know to whom I prayed? POET To God, I suppose. ACTRESS (_With deep sarcasm_) Oh, of course! It was to you to whom I prayed. POET Then why did you look out of the window? ACTRESS Tell me rather where you have lured me. POET But, child, it was your idea. You wanted to go to the country—and picked out this very place. ACTRESS Well, wasn’t I right? POET Certainly. It’s charming here. When you consider that we are just two hours from Vienna—complete solitude. And delightful scenery! ACTRESS Isn’t it? If you had any real talent, this place might inspire you to write. POET Have you been here before? ACTRESS Have I been here before? Indeed I have! I have lived here for years. POET With whom? ACTRESS With Dick, of course. POET Oh, really! ACTRESS How I adored that man!— POET You’ve told me all about that already. ACTRESS I am sorry—I can go away again, if I bore you! POET You bore me?… You can’t imagine what you mean to me… You are a whole world in itself… You are divine, you are a genius… You are the simplicity which is holy… Yes, you… But you oughtn’t to talk about Dick now. ACTRESS That was merely a slip! Well!— POET I am glad that you feel that way. ACTRESS Come, give me a kiss! POET (_Kisses her_) ACTRESS But now we had better say good night. Good night, darling! POET What do you mean by that? ACTRESS I mean, I am going to lie down and go to sleep. POET Yes,—that’s very well, but when it comes to saying “good night” … where do I sleep? ACTRESS There are surely a lot of other rooms in this house. POET But they don’t appeal to me. Don’t you think I had better light a candle now? ACTRESS Yes. POET (_Lights a candle, which stands upon the dressing-table_) What a charming room … and what pious people they must be. Pictures of saints everywhere… It would be interesting to spend some time among people like this … quite another world. How little we know of the lives of others! ACTRESS Don’t talk nonsense, but just give me the bag from the table. POET Here, beloved! ACTRESS (_Takes a small framed picture out of the hand-bag and puts it on the dressing-table_) POET What’s that? ACTRESS That’s the Virgin. POET Do you always carry her around with you? ACTRESS She is my talisman. And now go, Robert! POET You are joking? Can’t I help you? ACTRESS No, you must go now. POET And when may I return? ACTRESS In ten minutes. POET (_Kisses her_) Au revoir! ACTRESS Where will you go? POET I shall walk up and down under your window. I love to wander about outdoors at night time. My finest inspirations come to me that way. And especially near you, under the breath of your longing, I might call it … entwined in your art. ACTRESS You talk like an idiot… POET (_Hurt_) There are women who might say … like a poet. ACTRESS Oh, well, but do go now. But don’t start to flirt with the waitress.— POET (_Goes_) ACTRESS (_Undresses. She hears the POET going down the wooden stairway, and, then hears his footsteps below her window. As soon as she is undressed, she goes to the window and looks down to where he stands waiting. She calls to him in a whisper_) Come! POET (_Comes quickly upstairs and runs toward her. She in the meantime has gone to bed, and extinguished the light. He locks the door_) ACTRESS So, now you may sit down beside me, and tell me a story. POET (_Sits down on the bed beside her_) Hadn’t I better close the window? Isn’t it too cold for you? ACTRESS Oh, no! POET Now, what shall I tell you? ACTRESS Tell me to whom you are unfaithful at this moment? POET I’m sorry, I’m not unfaithful yet. ACTRESS Well, if it’s any satisfaction to you, I am unfaithful to some one too. POET So I can imagine. ACTRESS And who do you suppose it is? POET But, child, how do you expect me to know? ACTRESS Guess, then. POET Wait … your manager. ACTRESS My dear man, I’m not a chorus-girl. POET Well, I am only guessing. ACTRESS Guess again. POET Then it’s your leading-man … Benno— ACTRESS Nonsense! He doesn’t care for women at all … didn’t you know that? He carries on with his postman! POET No, really!— ACTRESS Now come, kiss me. POET (_Embraces her_) ACTRESS But what are you doing? POET Why do you torment me so? ACTRESS Listen, Robert, I have a suggestion to make to you. Come lie down in bed with me. POET I accept. ACTRESS Come quickly, come quickly! POET Yes … if I had had my way, I would have been there long ago… Listen… ACTRESS What? POET The crickets are chirping outside. ACTRESS You are crazy, child, there are no crickets here. POET But surely you hear them. ACTRESS Hurry up. POET (_Beside her_) Here I am. ACTRESS Now lie quite still… Sh … don’t move… POET Yes, but why? ACTRESS You would rather like to have an affair with me? POET I should think that’s obvious by now. ACTRESS There are many who would like that… POET But it would seem that at the moment the odds are on my side… ACTRESS Then, come, my cricket! I shall call you “cricket” from now on. POET All right… ACTRESS Now, tell me, whom am I deceiving? POET Whom?… Perhaps me… ACTRESS Child, you have softening of the brain. POET Or some one … some one whom you have never seen … some one, whom you don’t even know, some one—who is predestined for you and whom you will never find… ACTRESS Please don’t talk such magnificent nonsense. POET … Isn’t it strange … you too—and yet one could think.—But no, it would destroy the best in you, if one should … come, come—come.— * * * * * ACTRESS That’s better than acting in idiotic plays… Don’t you think so? POET Well, it seems to me, that it is a good thing you sometimes have to act in an intelligent one. ACTRESS You conceited puppy. I suppose you are thinking of one of your own plays again. POET Yes, I am. ACTRESS (_Seriously_) It is really a splendid play! POET Well, then! ACTRESS You are a great genius, Robert! POET And you might also tell me now why you didn’t turn up the day before yesterday. There was absolutely nothing the matter with you. ACTRESS Well, I wanted to annoy you. POET But why? What have I done to you?— ACTRESS You were over-bearing. POET In what way? ACTRESS Everybody at the theater thinks you are. POET Really. ACTRESS But I told them, he has a perfect right to be over-bearing. POET And what did they say? ACTRESS What could they say? I am not on speaking-terms with any of them. POET Oh, I see. ACTRESS They would like nothing better than to poison me, every one of them. But they won’t succeed. POET Don’t think now of others. Let’s be happy that we are here together, and tell me that you love me. ACTRESS What further proof can you want? POET It’s a thing that can’t be proven anyway. ACTRESS I like that! What else do you want? POET How many are there that you have tried to convince in this way … did you love all of them? ACTRESS No, I have loved only one. POET (_Embraces her_) My… ACTRESS Dick. POET My name is Robert. What can I mean to you, if you are thinking of Dick, now? ACTRESS You are a mood of mine. POET I am pleased to know it. ACTRESS Well, tell me, aren’t you proud? POET Why should I be proud? ACTRESS It seems to me that you have good reason to be. POET Oh, because of that. ACTRESS Yes, because of that, my little cricket!—What about the chirping? Are they still chirping? POET All the time. Don’t you hear them? ACTRESS Of course, I hear them. But, child, those are frogs. POET You are wrong. Frogs croak. ACTRESS Of course, they croak. POET But this is not croaking, child, this is chirping. ACTRESS You are about the most stubborn person I have ever met. Kiss me, froggie. POET Please don’t call me that. It gets on my nerves. ACTRESS Well, what shall I call you? POET My name is Robert. ACTRESS Oh, but that’s stupid. POET But won’t you please call me simply by my own name? ACTRESS Well, then, Robert, give me a kiss… Ah! (_She kisses him_) Now, are you satisfied, froggie? POET May I light a cigarette? ACTRESS Give me one too. (_He takes his cigarette-case from the dressing-table; takes two cigarettes out; lights both, and gives her one_) By the way, you haven’t said a word about my performance yesterday. POET What performance? ACTRESS Well. POET Oh, yes. I wasn’t at the theater. ACTRESS You are joking. POET Not in the least. When you didn’t turn up the day before, I assumed you hadn’t fully recovered yesterday, and so I decided not to go. ACTRESS You missed something wonderful. POET Yes. ACTRESS It was a sensation. The people actually grew pale. POET You saw that? ACTRESS Benno said: Child, you acted divinely. POET Hm!… And so ill the day before. ACTRESS Indeed I was. And do you know why? Because I felt such a longing for you. POET A little while ago you said that you stayed away just to annoy me. ACTRESS But what do you know about my love for you? Everything leaves you cold. And I have been delirious for nights. In a high fever—hundred and four degrees. POET Rather high for a mood. ACTRESS You call that a mood? I am dying for love of you, and you call it a mood—? POET And Dick…? ACTRESS Dick?… Don’t talk to me about that galley-slave!— THE ACTRESS AND THE COUNT _The bedroom of the ACTRESS, luxuriously furnished. It is midday. The curtains are still down; a candle is burning on the dressing-table. The ACTRESS is disclosed in her four-poster bed. Many newspapers are strewn about on the cover. The COUNT in the uniform of a captain of the Dragoons enters. He remains standing at the door._ ACTRESS Ah, Count. COUNT Your mother said I might, otherwise I would not— ACTRESS Please, come closer. COUNT I kiss your hand. Pardon me—when you come in from the street … I can’t see a thing yet. So … here we are (_at her bed_). I kiss your hand. ACTRESS Please sit down, Count. COUNT Your mother said, My daughter isn’t well… Nothing serious, I hope. ACTRESS Nothing serious? I was on the verge of death. COUNT Oh, dear, oh, dear, is it possible? ACTRESS It is very good of you to have taken the trouble to call. COUNT On the verge of death! And only last night you acted divinely. ACTRESS It was a great triumph, wasn’t it? COUNT Tremendous!… The audience was carried away. I won’t say anything about myself. ACTRESS Thanks, for the beautiful flowers. COUNT Nothing at all, Mademoiselle. ACTRESS (_Indicating with her eyes a large flower-basket, which stands on a little table near the window_) There they are. COUNT You were literally overwhelmed with flowers and wreaths yesterday. ACTRESS They are still in my dressing-room. All I brought home was your flowers. COUNT (_Kissing her hand_) How sweet of you. ACTRESS (_Suddenly seizes his hand, and kisses it_) COUNT But, Mademoiselle. ACTRESS Don’t be frightened, Count, it doesn’t put you under any obligations. COUNT You are a strange being … a sort of a problem almost— (_Pause_) ACTRESS Miss Birken, I suppose, is much less of a problem. COUNT That little lady isn’t a problem at all, although … I really know her only very slightly. ACTRESS Oh! COUNT That’s the actual truth. But you are a problem. I’ve always had a yearning for a problem. It’s really been a deep personal loss to me, that until yesterday… I _never_ saw you act. ACTRESS Really? COUNT Yes! You see, going to the theater is so complicated. I am used to dining late … then when I get there, the best part of the play is over. Isn’t that true? ACTRESS From now on, I suppose, you will dine earlier. COUNT I’ve thought of that too. Or maybe I won’t dine at all. Dining isn’t a special pleasure anyhow. ACTRESS Are there any pleasures left to an old man like you? COUNT That’s a question I often ask myself. But I am not an old man. There must be some other reason. ACTRESS Do you think so? COUNT Yes. Bobby, for instance, says, that I am a philosopher. You know he means that I do too much thinking. ACTRESS Yes … thinking is a misfortune. COUNT I have too much time, that’s why I reflect. You see, I’ve often thought if they would transfer me to Vienna, things would be better. There’s diversion here, stimulation. But at the bottom, it’s not really very different from up there. ACTRESS What do you mean by “up there”? COUNT Well, down there, you know, in Hungary, in the God forsaken country towns, where I’ve been stationed most of the time. ACTRESS And what did you do in Hungary? COUNT Well, as I am telling you, military service. ACTRESS Yes, but why did you stay in Hungary so long? COUNT Oh, things happen that way. ACTRESS But it must be enough to drive one mad. COUNT But why? You have a lot more work there, than here. You know, drilling recruits, breaking in mounts … and the country really isn’t as bad as they say. They are really quite beautiful, the lowlands—and marvelous sunsets. Too bad I’m not a painter, I’ve often thought if I were, I would paint them. We had a young chap, Splany, in our regiment, who could do it.—But, dear me, what dull stories I am telling you. ACTRESS Please go on; they are delightful! COUNT Do you know, the nice thing about you is the way one can chat with you, Bobby told me all about it. And it’s so seldom one can find any one like that. ACTRESS Down there in Hungary, I suppose. COUNT But it’s quite the same in Vienna! People are always the same. Where there are more of them, the crowd is larger. That’s the whole difference. Tell me, do you really like people? ACTRESS Like them—? I hate them! I hate to look at them. I never see any one. I’m always alone. Nobody enters my house. COUNT You see, I sort of thought that you hated people. It must often be the case with artists. If one lives in the higher regions… Well, you are lucky, you know at least why you live! ACTRESS Who told you that? I haven’t the slightest notion what I’m living for! COUNT But really—to be famous—to be fêted— ACTRESS Does that mean happiness? COUNT Happiness? There really is no such thing as happiness. All the things that people talk about most, don’t exist … for instance, love. That’s one of them. ACTRESS I suppose you are right. COUNT Enjoyment … intoxication … very good, nobody can deny them … they are something real. Now, when I am enjoying myself … very good, I am aware that I am enjoying myself. Or I am intoxicated, good. That also is something real. And when it’s over, well then it’s over. ACTRESS (_Grandly_) It is over. COUNT But as soon as one does not, how shall I express it, as soon as one does not give oneself up to the moment, I mean, if one thinks of the future or the past … well, everything is over in a moment… Afterwards … there is sadness … before … there is uncertainty … in a word, one only becomes confused. Isn’t that so? ACTRESS (_Nods with wide open eyes_) It seems, you have grasped the essence of things. COUNT And, you see, when you have once clearly grasped this, it really doesn’t matter whether you live in Vienna or in the Puszta[3] or in Steinamanger.[4] You see, for instance … where may I put my cap? Yes, thank you … what were we talking about? ACTRESS About the Puszta. COUNT Of course. Well, as I said, there isn’t much difference, whether I spend the evening in the officers’ mess or at the club. It’s all the same. ACTRESS And what about love? COUNT If you believe in it, some one will always be there who will love you. ACTRESS Like Miss Birken, for example. COUNT I really don’t see why you always have to come back to that little lady. ACTRESS But she’s your mistress, isn’t she? COUNT Who says so? ACTRESS Everybody knows it. COUNT Except myself, strange to say. ACTRESS But you fought a duel on her account! COUNT Maybe. I was even killed without my knowing it. ACTRESS You are a gentleman, won’t you sit closer to me? COUNT With pleasure. ACTRESS Here. (_She draws him to her, and passes her hand through his hair_) I knew you would come to-day. COUNT How did you know? ACTRESS I knew it last night in the theater. COUNT You saw me from the stage, then? ACTRESS But man alive! Didn’t you notice that I acted for you alone? COUNT No, really? ACTRESS I was as on wings, when I saw you sitting in the first row. COUNT As on wings? On my account? I hadn’t the slightest suspicion that you noticed me! ACTRESS Your aristocratic reserve is enough to drive one to despair. COUNT But… ACTRESS “But”!… At least, take your saber off! COUNT If you permit. (_Takes it off, and leans it against the bed_) ACTRESS And now give me a kiss. COUNT (_Kisses her, she clings to him_) ACTRESS It would have been better if I had never seen you. COUNT But this seems better to me. ACTRESS Count, you are a poseur! COUNT I—why? ACTRESS Can’t you imagine how happy many a man would be if he were in your place! COUNT I’m perfectly happy. ACTRESS Well, I thought happiness didn’t exist. Why do you look at me that way? I believe you are afraid of me, Count! COUNT I told you, Mademoiselle, you are a problem. ACTRESS Oh, don’t bother me with your philosophy … come to me. And ask me for anything at all … you can have whatever you want. You are so handsome. COUNT Well then, may I ask (_kissing her hand_) that I may call again this evening? ACTRESS This evening … but I have to act then. COUNT After the play. ACTRESS And you ask for nothing else? COUNT I shall ask for everything else after the play. ACTRESS (_Hurt_) You can beg a long while then, you abominable poseur. COUNT But, see, we’ve been perfectly frank with each other so far … it seems to me it would be so much more beautiful after the play … much cozier than now, when … I have a sort of feeling the door might open any moment… ACTRESS It does not open from the outside. COUNT Well, you see, I have an idea one shouldn’t lightly spoil in advance something which may be very beautiful. ACTRESS Possibly!… COUNT To tell the truth, love in the morning seems rather horrible to me. ACTRESS Well—you are about the worst case of lunacy I have ever met! COUNT I am not talking about women in general … because in general it doesn’t make any difference anyway. But women like you … no, you may call me a fool a hundred times over. But women like you … one doesn’t take them before breakfast. And so … you know … so… ACTRESS Oh, but you are a darling! COUNT You understand, what I have said, don’t you? I sort of imagine it like… ACTRESS How do you imagine it? COUNT Like this… I wait for you in a carriage after the play, then we drive somewhere for supper— ACTRESS I am not Miss Birken. COUNT I didn’t mean to say you were. Only, it seems to me, you have to be in the right sort of mood for everything. In my case the mood doesn’t come until supper. The most beautiful thing of all is when we drive home together, and then… ACTRESS And then? COUNT And then … well, that depends upon circumstances. ACTRESS Do sit closer. Closer. COUNT (_Sitting down on the bed_) Seems to me, that out of the pillows comes a fragrance … mignonette—isn’t it? ACTRESS It’s very warm in here, don’t you think so? COUNT (_Bends down, and kisses her neck_) ACTRESS Oh, Count, that is contrary to your program. COUNT Who said anything about “program.” I never have any program. ACTRESS (_Drawing him close to her_) COUNT It really is very warm. ACTRESS Do you think so? And so dark, just as if it were evening… (_Draws him toward her_) It is evening … it is night… Close your eyes, if there is too much light for you. Come!… Come!… COUNT (_Offers no further resistance_) * * * * * ACTRESS And what about atmosphere now, you poseur? COUNT You are a little devil. ACTRESS What a thing to say! COUNT Well, then an angel. ACTRESS You should have been an actor! Really! You understand women! And do you know, what I shall do now? COUNT Well? ACTRESS I shall tell you that I shall never see you again. COUNT But why? ACTRESS Never, never. You are too dangerous! You would drive a woman mad. Here you are standing before me, as though nothing had happened. COUNT But… ACTRESS Please remember, Count, I have just given you everything. COUNT I shall never forget it! ACTRESS And what about to-night? COUNT What do you mean? ACTRESS Well—you wanted to wait for me after the theater? COUNT Oh, yes, let’s say, the day after to-morrow. ACTRESS What do you mean by “the day after to-morrow”? We were talking about to-day. COUNT There wouldn’t be much sense in that. ACTRESS Old man! COUNT You don’t quite understand me. What I mean has rather to do, how shall I express myself, rather concerns the soul. ACTRESS What concern of mine is your soul? COUNT Believe me, it has much to do with it. It seems all wrong to me, this notion, that you can separate the two. ACTRESS Don’t bother me with your philosophy. If I want any of that, I can read books. COUNT One never learns from books. ACTRESS Very true! And that’s why you ought to wait for me to-night. As to the soul, we will come to some sort of an understanding, you villain! COUNT Well, then, if I may, I shall wait in my carriage… ACTRESS You shall wait for me here in my home— COUNT … After the play. ACTRESS Of course. (_He buckles on his sword_) ACTRESS What are you doing? COUNT It seems to me it is time for me to go. For a formal call I have stayed a bit too long as it is. ACTRESS Well, this evening it shall be a formal call. COUNT Do you think so? ACTRESS I’ll take care of that. And now give me a last kiss, you darling little philosopher. Here, you seducer, you … sweet child, you seller of souls, you … panther. (_After she has ardently kissed him several times, she thrusts him violently away_) Count, you have done me a great honor. COUNT Not at all, mademoiselle! (_At the door_) Au revoir. ACTRESS Good-by, and love to Steinamanger. THE COUNT AND THE GIRL OF THE STREETS _It is morning toward six o’clock. A poorly furnished room with one window. The dirty yellowish blinds are down. Tattered, greenish curtains. On the dresser are several photographs, and beside them a cheap woman’s hat of conspicuously bad taste. Behind the mirror are cheap Japanese fans. On the table over which is drawn a reddish cover is an oil-lamp. It is burning low with a disagreeable odor, and has a shade of yellow paper. Beside it is a pitcher with remains of beer, and a half-empty glass.—On the floor beside the bed a woman’s clothes are lying in disorder. They look as though they had just been quickly thrown off. The GIRL lies sleeping in the bed, breathing quietly. The COUNT is lying on the sofa fully dressed with his light overcoat on. His hat lies on the floor at the head of the sofa._ COUNT (_Stirs, rubs his eyes, sits up suddenly, remains seated, and looks around_) Where am I?… Oh, yes … I actually went home with the woman, it seems… (_He rises quickly, notices her bed_) Oh, there she is… Queer, what sort of things can happen, even at my age. I haven’t the faintest notion, did they carry me up here? No… I remember—coming into the room… I was still awake then, or waked up … or … or maybe it’s only the room that reminds of something?… ’Pon my soul, yes, of course … it was yesterday I saw it… (_Looks at his watch_) What! yesterday, a couple of hours ago!—But, I knew, that something had to happen… I felt it in my bones … when I began to drink yesterday, I felt that … and what has happened?… Nothing… Or did there…? ’Pon my soul … for … for ten years it hasn’t happened to me that I don’t know… Well, let’s be honest at any rate, I was drunk… If I only knew since when… I remember perfectly when Bobby and I went into the all-night café, and … no, no… We left together … and then on the way… Yes, that’s it, Bobby and I rode in my carriage… But, why do I worry my brains about it? It doesn’t really matter. Let’s see that we get out of here. (_Rises. The lamp shakes_) Oh! (_Looks at the sleeping GIRL_) Well, she sleeps the sleep of the just. I don’t remember anything—but I’ll put the money on the table … and then, good-by… (_He stands in front of her, and looks at her for a considerable time_) If I didn’t know what she is! (_Studies her_) I’ve known many who didn’t look as virtuous even in their sleep. ’Pon my soul… Bobby would say again, I’m philosophizing, but the truth is, sleep makes all equal, so it seems to me—like its brother, death… Hm, I should like to know, whether… No, I’d remember that… No, no, I dropped like a log on the sofa right away … and nothing happened… It is unbelievable how much alike all women sometimes look… Well, let’s go (_He is about to go_) Oh, of course. (_He takes his wallet, and is about to take out a banknote_) GIRL (_Awakening_) Well … who’s there so early in the morning—? (_Recognizing him_) Good morning, sonny! COUNT Good morning. Have a good sleep? GIRL (_Stretching_) Oh, come here. Give me a little kiss. COUNT (_Bends down to her, considers, and draws back_) I was just going… GIRL Going? COUNT It’s really about time. GIRL You want to go away? COUNT (_Half-embarrassed_) Well… GIRL Well, good-by, you’ll come some other time. COUNT Yes, good-by. But, won’t you give me your hand? GIRL (_Reaches out her hand from under the cover_) COUNT (_Takes her hand, and kisses it mechanically, and becoming aware of it, he smiles_) Just as with a princess. Besides, if one only… GIRL Why do you look at me that way? COUNT If one only sees the head, as now … anyway, each and every one looks innocent when she first awakes … ’pon my soul, one might imagine almost anything, if the kerosene didn’t smell so… GIRL Yes, the lamps are always a nuisance. COUNT How old are you really? GIRL Well, what would you guess? COUNT Twenty-four. GIRL Oh, of course! COUNT Older? GIRL I’m not yet twenty. COUNT And how long have you been… GIRL A year. COUNT You began early. GIRL Better too early, than too late. COUNT (_Sits down upon her bed_) Tell me, are you really happy? GIRL Am I, what? COUNT I mean, are things going well with you? GIRL Oh, things always go well with me. COUNT Yes… Well, did it never occur to you that you might become something else? GIRL What might I become? COUNT Well… You are a very pretty girl. You might take a lover, for example. GIRL Do you imagine I haven’t any? COUNT Yes, I know that—But I mean just one single one, who would take care of you, so that you wouldn’t have to go with everybody. GIRL I don’t go with everybody. Thank heaven, I don’t have to. I pick those I want. COUNT (_Looks around the room_) GIRL (_Noticing it_) We move downtown next month, to the Spiegelgasse. COUNT We? Who? GIRL Well, the Madam, and the couple of other girls who live here. COUNT There are others— GIRL Next door … don’t you hear?… that is Milly. She was in the café too. COUNT I hear some one snoring. GIRL That’s Milly. She will snore the whole day long until ten o’clock to-night. Then she gets up, and goes to the café. COUNT What an awful life! GIRL Of course it is. It annoys the Madam a lot. I’m always on the streets by noon. COUNT What do you do on the streets at noon? GIRL What do you suppose I do? I’m going on my beat then. COUNT Oh, yes … of course… (_Rises, takes out his wallet, and puts a banknote on the table_) Good-by! GIRL Going already… Good-by… Call again soon. (_Turns on her side_) COUNT (_Stands still_) Tell me, is everything a matter of indifference to you already? GIRL What? COUNT I mean, don’t you get pleasure out of anything any more? GIRL (_Yawning_) I want to sleep. COUNT It’s all the same to you whether he is young or old or whether he… GIRL Why do you ask? COUNT … Well (_Suddenly hitting upon a thought_) ’pon my soul, now I know of whom you remind me, it’s… GIRL Do I look like some one? COUNT Unbelievable, unbelievable. Now please, don’t talk, at least not for a minute… (_Looking at her_) The very same features. (_He kisses her suddenly on the eyes_), the very image. GIRL Well… COUNT ’Pon my soul, it’s too bad that you … aren’t something different… You could make your fortune! GIRL You talk just like Frank. COUNT Who is Frank? GIRL The waiter in our café. COUNT In what way am I just like Frank? GIRL He is also always telling me I might make my fortune, and wanting me to marry him. COUNT Why don’t you? GIRL No thank you… I don’t want to marry, no, not for any price… Later on, perhaps. COUNT The eyes … the very same eyes… Bobby would surely call me a fool.—But I must kiss your eyes once more … so … and now God bless you, now I must go. GIRL Good-by… COUNT (_At the door_) Tell me … aren’t you a bit surprised?… GIRL At what? COUNT That I don’t want anything of you. GIRL There are many men who aren’t in the mood in the morning. COUNT Of course… (_To himself_) Absurd, that I expect to be surprised… Well, good-by… (_He is near the door_) But really, I’m disappointed. I ought to know that women like her care only about money … what am I saying … it is beautiful, that at least she doesn’t pretend; should make one glad… (_Aloud_) Do you know, I shall come to see you again soon? GIRL (_With closed eyes_) All right. COUNT When are you at home? GIRL I’m always at home. You only have to ask for Leocadia. COUNT Leocadia… All right—Well, God bless you. (_At the door_) The wine is still in my head. But after all it is sublime… I am with a woman like her and haven’t done anything but kiss her eyes, because she reminded me of some one… (_Turns toward her_) Tell me, Leocadia, does it often happen that any one leaves you in this way? GIRL What way? COUNT As I do. GIRL In the morning? COUNT No … have you ever had any one with you,—who didn’t want anything of you? GIRL No, that has never happened to me. COUNT Well, what do you think then? Do you think I didn’t like you? GIRL Why shouldn’t you like me? You liked me well enough by night. COUNT I like you now, too. GIRL But you liked me better last night. COUNT What makes you think that? GIRL Why ask such foolish questions? COUNT Last night … well, tell me, didn’t I drop right down on the sofa? GIRL Certainly … with me. COUNT With you? GIRL Yes, don’t you remember? COUNT I did … both of us… GIRL But you fell asleep right away. COUNT Right away… So … that’s what happened?… GIRL Yes, sonny. But you must have been terribly drunk, that you don’t remember. COUNT So… And yet … there is a faint resemblance… Good-by… (_Listens_) … What is the matter? GIRL The servant is up. Give her a tip as you go out. The outside door is open, so you won’t have to give anything to the janitor. COUNT (_In the anteroom_) Well… It would have been beautiful, if I had kissed her only on the eyes. It would have been almost an adventure… But it wasn’t my destiny. (_The servant opens the door_) Ah—here… Good-night.— SERVANT Good morning! COUNT Of course … good morning … good morning. FOOTNOTES [1] The Luna Park of Vienna. [2] A Parisian dancer, famous in the nineties. [3] A monotonous, treeless region in the great plain of Hungary. [4] A provincial town in Hungary about 60 miles south of Vienna. End of Project Gutenberg's Hands Around [Reigen], by Arthur Schnitzler *** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 53513 ***