ACT I.
Scene:--_A room in_ Heinecke's _house--The cheap, lower middle-class decorations and tawdry furnishings are in sharp contrast with two silk-upholstered arm-chairs, which are covered during the first part of the act--and a large gilded mirror. A chest of drawers and several shelves are covered with various worn articles of household use. To the right of the spectator, below the traditional German sofa, is a table with a coffee service. To the left is a long, rough-hewn work-table; upon it are pieces of cardboard, a pile of cardboard boxes and a large paste-pot. Beside the table is a workstool._
(Frau Heinecke _is busily engaged in cleaning the room_. Frau Hebenstreit _stands on the threshold of the door to the left_.)
Frau Hebenstreit. So it's really true?--Your son is home?
Frau Heinecke. Sh! sh!--for the Lord's sake--he's asleep!
Frau Hebenstreit. There is Alma's bedroom?
Frau Heinecke. Yes!--I don't know what I'm about!--I'm actually dizzy from joy! (_Drops into_ the work-stool)
Frau Hebenstreit. Do the folks on the avenue know about it yet?[1]
Frau Heinecke. He had to report to 'em to-day because they're his boss. To-morrow he'll make the visit.
Frau Hebenstreit. How long has he been gone, anyway?
Frau Heinecke. Seven--eight--nine and a half years. It's as long as that since I've seen my boy! (_She sobs_)
Frau Hebenstreit. And did you recognize him right off?
Frau Heinecke. Well, how should I? Last night about eight--Heinecke was half asleep over the Lokal Anzeiger.[2] and I'm sitting there sewing a lace hem on Alma's underwaist,--that girl's always got to have something new for her underwear!--Well, all of a sudden there was a knock, and a man come in, and Lord save us if there didn't stand a gentleman, a fine gentleman in a beaver coat--there it hangs!--just feel that beaverskin once!--I thought to myself: it's one of Alma's swell acquaintances, one of young Herr Kurt's friends----
Frau Hebenstreit. (_Listening attentively_) Ah----
Frau Heinecke. For they ain't too stuck up to come around and see us poor folks on the alley--Well, as I was saying, he throws his hat and coat on the floor--a real top hat--right down on the floor, mind you!--and he gets right down on his knees in front of me--well, I thought I was losing my mind, but when he calls out; "Mother, Father, don't you know me?--It's me, Robert, your son Robert"--Well, Frau Hebenstreit, it was just too good to be true! I'll never get over it! (_She cries_)
Frau Hebenstreit. Don't get excited, neighbor; the pleasure won't last! Every rat has a head and tail--and a rat's tail is poison, they do say.
Frau Heinecke. How can you say a thing like that! My son is a good son, a fine son.
Frau Hebenstreit. Too fine, Frau Heinecke! When a person's been traveling around in all them foreign lands and living in silks and satins----
Frau Heinecke. He can have all that here--(_Indicating the silk upholstered chairs_)
Frau Hebenstreit. (_With a grimace_) Yes, yes,--but whether he will or not----
Frau Heinecke. Whether he will or not, Frau Hebenstreit! A mother's heart don't reckon with rank and society!--And--Good Lord! Here I am a-standing--Where on earth can Heinecke be? Have you seen Heinecke?--The way he has to hobble along with his lame leg!
Frau Hebenstreit. I saw him standing outside with a sign as big as all outdoors, drying his sign he said--and the thermometer at thirty above zero!
Frau Heinecke. Let the old man enjoy himself. He was working on that sign half the night. Couldn't sleep a wink--neither of us--we was so happy----
(Heinecke _enters, limping, with a huge placard. One of his arms is stiff. _)
Heinecke. Hurrah! Now we've----
Frau Heinecke. Will you be still!
Heinecke. (_Reading the placard_) "Welcome, beloved son, to your father's house." Fine, eh?
Frau Hebenstreit. Looks for all the world like a target!
Heinecke. With a heart in the middle! You old--!
Frau Heinecke. Hold your tongue!--(_To_ Frau Hebenstreit) You know how he is!
(Heinecke _takes a hammer and tacks and climbs on chair to tack up the placard. _)
Frau Hebenstreit. I wonder where your son got all his fine manners anyway? Not from _his_ family, did he?
Frau Heinecke. No, nor mine either. It was seventeen years ago, when our boss on the avenue got his title of Councillor of Commerce--there was a great time: carriages and fireworkings and free beer for all the workmen in the factory. Well, my husband was a little bit full--and why not?--Pa, quit pounding! when it didn't cost nothing? Well, one of the carriages run over him,--broke his leg and his arm!
Heinecke. (_Standing on the stool_) Talking about me? Yes, that wasn't no joke, neither! (_Whistles_)
Frau Heinecke. Don't whistle! The folks in front can hear that from the balcony, and they'll send round to find out what's the matter with our family affairs!--And the boss was so tickled over his new title, that he was feelin' free with his pocket-book and he promised to take care of us and give our oldest an education.
Frau Hebenstreit. And did he stick to it?
Heinecke. (_Working_) Ah, there!
Frau Heinecke. Couldn't 've done better! They gave us a place here on the alley, where, thank God, we still are, and they sent Robert off to the school where he got his learning. And when he came back home on his vacations, he was always invited over on the avenue to drink chocolate with whip-cream,--on purpose to play with the little Miss. Young Herr Kurt was still sucking a rubber nipple then.
Frau Hebenstreit. That was all before Alma--?
Frau Heinecke. (_More quietly_) What do you mean by that?
Frau Hebenstreit. Aw, nothing, I----
Frau Heinecke. And then afterwards they sent him to Hamburg to learn about the foreign business, you know--and when he was seventeen off he goes to India, where they say it's so outlandish hot! The Councillor's nephew is out there. He's got a big coffee and tea plantation!
Heinecke. It grows out there just like daisies do around here! (_Gets down from the stool_) Fine, eh?
Frau Heinecke. And he got along pretty well out there, and, Lord, here he is home again and I stand around and----
Frau Hebenstreit. I'm a-going. Good-bye, and don't forget the poison in the rat's tail! (_Aside_) It's a pretty kettle of fish! (_She goes out_)
Heinecke. She's an old poison-toad herself!
Frau Heinecke. Jealousy--jealousy--jealousy!
Heinecke. Well! Where did you get the pound-cake!
Frau Heinecke. The cook brought it, with the compliments of the Miss.
Heinecke. (_Turning away_) What comes from the avenue don't interest me! The boy must have had enough sleep by this time. The factory whistle will blow for the second lunch[3] in a minute! (_Looking lovingly at the placard_) "Welcome, beloved son----"
Frau Heinecke. (_Suddenly_) Father, he's here!
Heinecke. Who?
Frau Heinecke. Our boy!
Heinecke. (_Pointing to placard_) We're ready for him!
Frau Heinecke. Shh! I heard something! (_Listening_) Yes, I told you! He's putting on his shoes. When I think of it! There he is a-sitting putting on his shoes, and in a minute he'll come through this door----
Heinecke. All I'll say is: "Welcome, beloved"--did you put some of that swell soap of Alma's on his washstand?
Frau Heinecke. And how many times have I set here and thought to myself: has he even got a decent bed under him?--and--and--have the savages eaten him up already? And now all of a sudden here he is, Father--Father we've got him again! May the luck keep up!
Heinecke. Look here a minute--does this look all right?
Frau Heinecke. Quiet!--He's coming. Your tie's slipped up again! I'm ashamed of you! (_Smoothes the cover of the arm-chair_) Lord, how nervous I am!
(Robert _bursts into the room and runs to his parents, who stand stiffly before him, embarrassed._)
Robert. Good morning. Father!--Good morning, Mother I (_He embraces his mother and repeatedly kisses her hand_) I am--absolutely--inhumanly--happy!
Heinecke. "Welcome, beloved son"--(_As_ Robert _bows over his hand he rubs it on his trousers_) You're going to kiss my hand?!!
Robert. Certainly, if you'll let me!
Heinecke. (_Extending his hand_) Now you can see what a good son he is!
Robert. (_Looking about_) And here is where I once--I hardly know--is it really possible?--Or am I actually dreaming still? That would be too bad--Oh,--and the homesickness!--Lord in heaven, that homesickness!--Just think! You sit out there at night in some corner, and everything you have left appears about you, living;--mother, father,--the court, the garden, the factory--and then all of a sudden you see the long palm branches waving over you, or a parrot screams in the distance and you come to yourself and realise that you are all alone at the other end of the world! Brrr!
Heinecke. Parrots? That must be nice! Here only the rich folks can have 'em!
Robert. Yes, and if you only knew how I worried these last years, and even on the journey home, for fear I shouldn't find everything the way my longing had painted it!
Heinecke. Why?
Robert. There was a man--otherwise a dear friend, my best friend, too--who tried to prepare me for disappointment. You have become foreign, he said, and you shouldn't try to put together what Fate has separated so long ago--Heaven knows what else he said--and I was almost afraid of him, and you, and myself too! Thank God that doesn't bother me any more; every single thing has come out as I hoped! Everything I had imagined for ten years is exactly as I expected--there is Father--there's Mother, sweet and simple and (_Tenderly_) a bit of a chatterbox! (_Stretching himself_) But what are these two young arms for? Just watch! They've learned to make money!---And the sisters will soon be ready too! Just see!--And here is father's old paste-pot--(_Strokes the paste-pot_) And my confirmation certificate--framed! And the machinery makes the same, dear old noise!
Frau Heinecke. You never slept a wink on account of that old machine--eh? It bumps and bangs the whole night!
Robert. I was never sung to sleep by a sweeter lullaby, Mother. When I was almost asleep I kept saying: snort if you want, puff if you like, you old horse! Keep at it, but work as you will while I am lying here in bed, _you_ can't do anything for the glory of the house of Muhlingk. _Here_ is a lever that must be reckoned with! Wasn't that a proud thought?--And then my heart warmed for our benefactor.
Heinecke. Huh!
Robert. What, Father?
Heinecke. Aw, nuthin'!
Robert. And I have sworn that I won't slacken in his service until I've drawn my last breath!
Heinecke. I should think by this time you'd have done about enough for them!
Frau Heinecke. You've scraped and slaved for them for ten years!
Robert. Oh, it wasn't as bad as that, Mother. But now let's not talk about them this way any more. Every day we have one reason or other for thanking the Muhlingks. The letters I had from the Councillor, and from Kurt especially,--he's a partner now,--were like letters from a close friend.
Heinecke. Kurt--Oh, he's a fine young gentleman! But as for the rest--"The Moor has paid his debt"[4] as the Berliner says--show me the rabble! (Robert _swallows his answer and turns away, frowning_) But, Bobby, look around! Don't you notice anything? He don't see anything, Mother!
Frau Heinecke. Oh, stop your chatter!
Heinecke. Chatter! Ho! When I try to welcome my dear son back to his father's house, then it's chatter! (_Leads_ Robert _to the placard_) W--what do you say to that, eh?
Robert. Did you make that, Father, you with your lame arm?
Heinecke. Ah! I make lots of things. If the poor old cripple didn't take a hand this fine family would have starved long ago!--(_Rather roughly_) What are you standing there staring at. Mother? Where's the coffee?
Frau Heinecke. Well, well! (_Starts to go_)
Robert. (_Hurrying after her_) Oh, Mother, he didn't mean anything!
Frau Heinecke. Mean anything? Ha! Ha! he's only talking that way to make you think he's the man of the house! (_She goes out_)
Robert. (_After a pause, he tries to soothe over the unpleasantness_) You still paste boxes. Father?
Heinecke. Still at it!
Robert. And the arm doesn't bother you?
Heinecke. My arm, ha! ha! ha! my arm! Do you want to see how I do it! First the pasteboard--so--then the fold--so! (_With great speed he sweeps the pastebrush across two sheets of cardboard, pressing them into place with his left elbow_) Who could beat your old cripple at that?
Robert. You are a regular juggler.
Heinecke. That's what! But who admits it? Who appreciates me? Who appreciates me? Nobody! How could the daughters--one of 'em already a Missus--respect me when their own mother gives 'em such a bad example!
Robert. (_Indignantly_) Father!
Heinecke. Yes, you're a long way from her lap--far away cows have long horns--There, it's "dear little Mother! sweet little sister!"--But if you knew what I've had to stand! Not once does she give me horse-car-fare when I want to go to town for a glass of beer!
Robert. Are you quite fair to her? Doesn't she cherish you as the apple of her eye?
Heinecke. Lord, I didn't mean to say anything against her--shh!--here she comes! (_Enter_ Frau Heinecke _with a steaming coffee-pot_) Sit down, Bobby,--No, here in the arm-chair! Wait a minute! (_Pulls off the covering from the chair_) Such a fine gentleman ought to sit on pure silk!
Frau Heinecke. Yes, and the other's just the same! Two pieces we've got! And have you seen the pier-glass? All gold creepers, and the glass in one piece! Augusta's husband says it cost at least two hundred marks!
Robert. Where did all these wonderful things come from.
Frau Heinecke. From the Councillor!
Robert. He gives you things like this?
Heinecke. Naw, only----
Frau Heinecke. (_Aside_) Ssh! don't you know that Herr Kurt doesn't want it known? (_To_ Robert) Yes, last Christmas he gave us the mirror, and this Christmas the two chairs. Father, quit boring holes in the pound cake!
Robert. Really, I don't like this sort of generosity!
Frau Heinecke (_Pouring out coffee_) This furniture 'd be too good for some people! But when we have such fine visitors and such a distinguished gentleman for a son, and such an awful talented daughter----
Robert. Alma?
Heinecke. Yessir! We did everything for our girl we were able to do.
Frau Heinecke. And you always sent money----
Robert. So that she should have a proper schooling, and learn millinery and bookkeeping. That's what we agreed on.
Frau Heinecke. Yes--that was before--!
Robert. Before? Hasn't she the same position now?
Frau Heinecke. Not for the last six months.
Robert. What is she doing now?
Heinecke. (_Proudly_) She is cultivating her voice!
Robert. Why, I never heard she was musical!
Heinecke. Awful musical!
(_They drink the coffee._)
Frau Heinecke. She was examined by some Italian singer--Seenyora or something--she said she had never heard anything like it before and she would take it as an honor to develop Alma's voice herself at her own cost.
Robert. But why did you keep that from me?
Frau Heinecke. Oh, it was such a long way, clear out to India, you forget such things--and then, we wanted to give you a surprise!
Robert. (_Gets up and walks excitedly up and down_) Auguste really takes good care of her?
Frau Heinecke. Certainly. She never lets her eye off her. Alma eats at her house and practises at her house and when she stays too late to catch the horsecar she sleeps there--same as she did last night.
Robert. And when she stays away all night, doesn't that worry you?
Heinecke. Huh! Big girl like that!
Frau Heinecke. No, not when we've brought her up so well--and she's with Auguste, too! She ought to be here soon. The milk-man took the letter over early. How surprised she'll be!
Robert. And Auguste is happy?
Frau Heinecke. Oh, so--so. Her husband boozes a little, and when it comes to working, he ain't much, but----
Heinecke. But when it comes to sulking and raising Cain, he's right at home!
Frau Heinecke. But, all in all, they get along all right. Auguste has furnished up two swell rooms, and rented 'em to a gentleman from Potsdam that ain't there half the time, but pays for the whole month! That brings in many a pretty penny. He pays a whole mark just for his coffee in the morning, (_Goes to the window_) There she comes! And she's brought her husband along, too!
Robert. What? Isn't Alma with her?
(Auguste _and_ Michalski _come in._)
Auguste. Well, well, here you are! (_They kiss each other_) Everything has been going fine with you, hasn't it? What's the use of asking? When a man goes around in clothes like those!--Of course everything ain't gold that glitters--here's my husband!
Robert. Well, brother-in-law, give me your hand,--one of the family!
Michalski. Honored! Don't often happen that a horny hand like this is so honored!
Robert. That doesn't sound very brotherly. (_To Auguste_) Where's Alma?
Auguste. Our Princess was afraid she wasn't beautiful enough for the foreign brother! She had to stay and burn her bangs first. (Robert _is deeply concerned_) She'll probably come by the next car. Where did you get the pound-cake? (Frau Heinecke _passes the cake around and_ Michalski _and_ Auguste _eat_)
Frau Heinecke. Eat another piece, Bobby!
(Robert _refuses, but the others eat._)
Heinecke. (_After a pause_) What do you say to that, Michalski, "Welcome, beloved son."
Michalski. (_Eating_) Nonsense!
Robert. (_Surprised_) Brother-in-law!
Heinecke. What? What I did with this noble heart and this lame arm!
(Robert _pacifies him._)
Michalski. I'm a simple man and I ain't afraid to say what I think! I've got no use for that kind of rot and nonsense! When a man has got to work the way we do with his stomach empty and a whip at his back----
Heinecke. 'Specially when a man goes walking at eleven o'clock and eats pound-cake to boot!
Auguste. Are you two at it again? (_To_ Michalski) Will you never shut up? Can't you see he's in his second childhood?
Heinecke. I'm in--Good!--Now you see! That's the way I'm treated by my own children!
Robert. (_Aside to_ Auguste) Really, sister, I never thought you would say a thing like that!
Auguste. What are you talking about?
(_Enter_ Wilhelm.)
All. (_Except_ Robert) It's Wilhelm! Good morning, Wilhelm! (Heinecke _and_ Michalski _shake hands with him_)
Frau Heinecke. Who is the pretty bouquet for? That must be for somebody in the city.
Wilhelm. No, it's for you ... You are the young gentleman? (Robert _nods--cordially_) Awful glad to know you! (_About to offer his hand_)
Robert. (_Smiling_) Very kind of you.
Wilhelm. The honorable family sends you a hearty welcome and these flowers. They are the rarest in the conservatory. But, between you and me, the flowers came from the Gnadiges Fraulein. And the Gnadiges Fraulein was pretty anxious to----
Robert. Were you commissioned to say that, too? (_Controlling his feelings_)
Wilhelm. No, not----
Robert. Then keep it to yourself!
(_The servant starts to go._)
Frau Heinecke. Wouldn't you like to have a piece of pound-cake with us, Wilhelm? There's plenty left!
Robert. Please, Mother! (_Gives_ Wilhelm _a gold-piece_) The man has his pay--Tell the Councillor that the Count von Trast-Saarburg and I beg the honor of a meeting with him at three o'clock! You may go! (Wilhelm _goes_)
Frau Heinecke. A count! What sort of a count?
Robert. A friend of mine, Mother, to whom I am under great obligation.
Auguste. (_Softly to_ Michalski) He pretends to have a count for a friend!
Frau Heinecke. Wait, I'll put the flowers in water. But you oughtn't to have been so harsh with Wilhelm, Bobby! He's a good friend of ours.
Auguste. Us common folks don't have counts for friends!
Michalski. We have to be contented with servants!
Frau Heinecke. Yes, you must be nice to Wilhelm, Robert, for our sakes; he can do a lot for us! How many pieces of roasts and how many bottles of wine has he slipped us!
Robert. And you accepted them, Mother?
Frau Heinecke. Why not, my boy! We're poor folks--we ought to be glad to get things like that for nothing!
Robert. Mother, I'll double my efforts; I'll give you what I can spare for my bare living expenses. But promise me you won't take anything more from that servant, will you?
Frau Heinecke. Oh, that would be foolish pride and waste! You should not look a gift-horse in the mouth! And he only wanted to do you a favor, when he told you that about the Gnadiges Fraulein! That's something special! Whenever I met her in the court, there wasn't a single time when she didn't stop me and ask if there was any news from you, and how you got on with the hot weather and all! And at the same time she smiled so friendly--if you were a smart boy, Robert----
Robert. For heaven's sake. Mother, stop!
Heinecke. That wouldn't be so bad--two millions!
Michalski. Would you lend me a little then, eh, Brother-in-law?
Robert. (_To himself_) How much longer must I be tortured?
(Alma _appears at the half-open door. She wears a yellow jacket and a coquettish little hat. She wears suede gloves and many bracelets. She carries a fancy parasol._)
Alma. Good morning, everybody.
Robert. (_Runs to her and embraces her_) Alma! Thank God!
Michalski. (_To_ Auguste) The two swells of the family!
Auguste. (_Lovingly_) Listen: little sister, if you were as ugly as you are pretty, you wouldn't take long to find out that your brother hated you.
Alma. Auguste, that's mean.
Robert. Oh, she didn't mean anything. Now be good again!
Alma. (_Affected_) My own dear brother!
Auguste. (_Aside_) Lord, ain't it touching!
(Frau Heinecke _helps_ Alma _off with her jacket._)
Heinecke. Now what do you say? (_Stroking her cheek_) Are you my little treasure or not, eh?
Alma. (_Trilling_) "Oui, cher papa! c'est Girofla!"
Heinecke. Do you hear how she sings? Real Italian!
Robert. Now what's this I hear: you want to be a great singer?
Alma. Well, I'd not object to that!
Frau Heinecke. Won't you cat a little piece of pound-cake, Alma?
Alma. Merci beaucoup! (_Goes about in front of the mirror, eating_)
Robert. And you are studying hard?
Alma. (_Her mouth full of cake_) I have lessons every afternoon--Do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si--si, la, sol,--fa--Oh, those scales! Terrible bore! And practice--Eternal practice!--My nerves are ruined already!
Frau Heinecke. Poor child!
Alma. "Oh, yes. Ma!"[5] I've been studying English, too! I'm awfully cultured.--Oh, what I've learned!
Heinecke. Yes sir! D'ye see!
Alma. And above all--we only live once--have a good time, that's the main thing! Are you happy, too, brother?
Robert. Certainly, when I have reason to be.
Alma. The great art is to be happy without any reason. Why are we young? Oh, it's good to live! Every day something new!--And Berlin is so lovely! You know--the Linden!--and the electric light! Have you seen it yet? That's what I like the best of all. Everybody is so pretty and pale, so interesting!--And the restaurants have all got electric lights now, too. Grand!--I saw a chandelier in a cafe in the Donhoffplatz--it was a great big wreath of flowers and every flower had a light in it!
Robert. Were you in the cafe?
Alma. I? How could I be? Through the window it was! You don't have things like that in India? Do you?
Robert. No, we certainty don't.
Alma. We're pretty far advanced in culture here. Somebody told me that Berlin was almost as beautiful as Paris. Is that so?
Robert. I don't know Paris, dear.
Alma. Ugh! That's a shame! Every young man ought to know Paris.
Robert. (_Charmed, yet shocked by her vulgarity_) You little silly!
Alma. Ha I ha! ha! I'm a funny one! don't you think? Ha! ha! Yes, that's the way! (_She goes about laughing, and rocks back and forth. She takes a little handkerchief, which she carries folded in triangular form in her belt; and holds it under_ Auguste's _nose_) Smell it?
Auguste. (_Aside_) Fine! What's that?
Alma. (_Aside_) Ixora, the very latest from Paris--got it to-day!
Auguste. Coming out to-night?
Alma. Don't know! He'll send me word--But to-morrow evening we're going to the masked ball! Ha! ha!
Robert. Now let's be sensible again, little one. Come here--Sit down--Here! Here!
Alma. Heavens! How you act! This is going to be a regular cross-examination!
Robert. I'm going to ask you a lot of questions.
(Frau _and_ Herr Heinecke _group themselves about_ Alma's _chair_. Michalski _sits on the work table_, Auguste _beside him on the stool._)
Alma. Go ahead! S'il vous plait. Monsieur!
Michalski. (_Aside to_ Auguste) This will be a nice mess!
Robert. How did you happen to discover this talent?
Alma. It comes like love--can't tell how!
Robert. (_Unpleasantly affected_) Hum--But someone must have told you about it!
(Alma _shrugs her shoulders._)
Frau Heinecke. Don't you remember, child? It was Herr Kurt that----
Robert. The young manager?
Heinecke. Certainly.
Robert. But how did he know----?
Frau Heinecke. He heard her singing--through the window on the court. And the next thing, he said it was a sin and a shame that a voice like hers----
Robert. But why do you let Mother tell everything, Alma?
Auguste. (_To_ Michalski) She's so modest.
Alma. That a voice like mine should be wasted here in the alley--and that _I_ should not be wasted here in the alley, for that matter! It's really an imposition on you, Gnadiges Fraulein, he said!
Frau Heinecke. I heard that myself: "Gnadiges Fraulein!"
Heinecke. My daughter, yes sir!
Robert. Go ahead. Alma!
Alma. My parents took care of your brother, he said,--I'll take care of you!--Well, and then he found a teacher for me who held a _cercle musical_--that means a musical circle--made up of young ladies of the best families.--One is engaged to a lieutenant of the Hussars.
Robert. And what is the teacher's name?
Alma. (_Suspiciously_) What do you want to know for?
Robert. Because it can't be any secret!
Alma. Her name is Signora Paulucci.
Heinecke. (_Enthusiastically_) Real Italian!
Robert. (_Taking out his note-book_) And her address?
Alma. (_Quickly_) You don't need to go there. It's true!
Robert. Of course it's true. But I'd like to hear the teacher's own opinion about your voice. (Alma _looks quickly toward_ Auguste)
Auguste. You can go to her lesson with her tomorrow.
Alma. Yes, to-morrow!
Robert. Good! (_Gets up and walks back and forth excitedly_) I don't want to make you feel badly, dear, but I must admit I don't share your great hopes.
Heinecke. Eh?
Robert. How many a young girl is enticed into these things purely through ambition and vanity! And it's dangerous! More dangerous than you realize--Of course I am sure that the young manager has the highest and the noblest of motives, but--Well, however that may be, to-morrow I'll hear myself what the teacher says, and if my doubts are groundless, I promise to take care of you myself, and we shan't rest a moment until you have reached the climax of your art! (Alma _takes the vase from the table and buries her face in the flowers_) Wouldn't it be strange if we were to owe everything--even this piece of good fortune--to the house of Muhlingk!
(Michalski _laughs mockingly._)
Alma. Mama, who sent me this bouquet?
Frau Heinecke. That's a welcome to--(_Indicates_ Robert) from the Gnadiges Fraulein!
Alma. Oh, from her! (_She puts down the vase_)
Robert. Wait a minute! One question! It seems that every time I mention the "Avenue" or any of the family, someone bursts out laughing, or makes some disapproving remark. Herr Muhlingk junior is the only one who seems to meet with your approval. Now, frankly, what have you against our benefactor? What has he done to offend you? (_A pause_) You, for instance. Brother-in-law, what made you laugh so scornfully? (_Silence_) Or you. Alma, that you won't have anything to do with the flowers that came from Miss Muhlingk! Mother just told me how kind she has always been!
Alma. Kind, is she? She's a stuck-up thing, that can't poke her nose high enough in the air when she meets me!--Never says a word to me; why, it's all she can do to return my bow! Oh, she----!
Auguste. She's the same way to me.
Robert. (_Sorrowfully, to himself_) That isn't like her!
Frau Heinecke. (_Tenderly_) Just wait till she marries my boy!
Robert. (_Shocked,--interrupting her_) Mother! But I'd forgotten: I've brought some presents for my sisters, and you, too, Brother-in-law.
Auguste. (_Jumping up greedily_) What have you got? Where is it?
Robert. In the bed-room. There's a card with each one's name on it.
(_The three_, Auguste _ahead, hurry into the bedroom._)
Heinecke. And you've got nothing for us?
Robert. There wasn't anything out there good enough for you, dear parents. Tell me what you want?
Frau Heinecke. If I should see the day when I had a sofa to match them arm-chairs--(_She sees that_ Robert _is staring ahead without listening to her_) But you ain't listening!
Robert. (_Sadly reproving_) No, mother, I wasn't listening!
Heinecke. (_Defiantly_) And I want a new paste-pot--you ought to be able to afford that! (_The three come back from the bedroom_. Auguste _carries a colored shawl_, Alma _a jewel-case_, Michalski _a Turkish pipe. They surround_ Robert _and thank him_)
Auguste. What a pity they don't wear Indian shawls any more!
Michalski. (_Puffing at the stem of his pipe_) Course it don't draw!
Robert. (_To_ Alma, _who is playing with her jewels_) Are you satisfied, Alma? Look at the three blue stones, they are Indian sapphire.
Alma. Very pretty! But to tell the truth, I like the dark-blue sapphires more! They have such beautiful brilliancy!
Robert. How do you know so much about such things?
Alma. Oh--from the shop windows! People of our sort like to look in windows!
Robert. And what's that shining in your ear?
Alma. Paste, that's all! Two Marks a pair!
Robert. Dear, you mustn't wear things like that!--Promise me you'll take them off this minute--and I'll show you another special surprise that I've brought you.
Alma. (_Sullenly, taking off the ear-rings_) As you please!
Robert. It's the dress of a hindoo Princess--looted on a military invasion undertaken by a friend of mine. Think of it! Pink and gold!
Alma. (_Joyfully_) Oh, how heavenly!
Michalski. (_Laughing_) And I s'pose you hung her up stark naked on a tree!
(Robert _stares at him._)
Alma. (_Lovingly_) You're a dear, sweet, old brother!
(_A coachman in livery knocks at the window._)
Frau Heinecke. Go, see what Johann wants, Father.
Alma. (_To_ Auguste) Oh, but they'll all turn green with envy when I wear this to the masked ball to-morrow.
Auguste. Shh!
Heinecke. (_From the window_) Johann says Herr Kurt is going to drive to the city at three, and he wants to know if you'd like to go along.
(Alma _and_ Auguste _exchange glances._)
Robert. What does that mean?
Auguste. Simple enough! Herr Kurt has his carriage, and since he's an obliging young man he gave Alma a standing invitation to ride to the city with him.
Robert. What? She allowed that? You, sister, you accepted that?
Alma. A poor girl ought to be glad enough to ride in a carriage once in a while!
Frau Heinecke. And you save car-fare!
Robert. Good heavens! And what do the ladies on the Avenue say to that?
Alma. Oh, they don't know anything about it! When I ride with him he stops the carriage at the back doorway where only the tradespeople go in.
Robert. So much the worse! What a disgusting implication in all this secrecy! Alma, haven't you felt that yourself?--Alma, come here!--Look me in the eyes.
Alma. (_Staring at him_) Well?
Robert. (_Takes her head in both his_) You are pure!--you are--(_He kisses her cheeks and forehead_)
Heinecke. Decide, now! Johann is waiting!
Robert. Tell Johann, Father, that I'll speak to his master about it first.
Alma. What for? It's all been arranged already.
Robert. You won't use Herr Muhlingk's carriage any more! For a girl of your--our position, there is always the street-car!
(Alma _begins to cry defiantly._)
Frau Heinecke. The poor child!
Auguste. You seem to want to turn everything in this house upside down!
(_Children's voices are heard in the court._)
Heinecke. Come here!--Quick!--A Moor!--in a turban!
All. (_Except_ Robert, _who remains, troubled, rush to the window_) That's not a Moor!
Alma. (_Still sobbing_) Robert--is that--a Moor?
Robert. (_Darkly_) No, that's my friend's Indian servant.
Frau Heinecke. Your friend?--is that the count?
Robert. Yes.
(_The servant comes in, and they crowd about him._)
Robert. Ragharita, your master is welcome in the house of my father!
(_Servant goes out. Great excitement_. Frau Heinecke _draws out the arm-chairs and polishes the mirror_.)
Alma. (_From the mirror_) Is your count young or old? (Robert _makes no answer_) My eyes are red!--Red as fire, aren't they, Auguste? And he may be young! (_She goes out, left_)
Michalski. Come, Auguste, we won't disturb the great gentlemen!
Heinecke. Herr Count, I'll say, take a seat in this arm-chair, I'll say! Oh, we know how to act with the nobility!
Frau Heinecke. There was a baron here once--a gentleman friend of Herr Kurt. Don't you remember, Father? He came to ask after Alma--But a count! we never had a count!
Robert. Who did you say had been here, Mother?
(_Enter_ Count Trast, _a man between forty and fifty, with gray hair and a long, blond beard. He is dressed with careless foreign elegance_. Robert _rushes to him and takes his hand._)
Trast. (_Aside to_ Robert) How is this? Hasn't the home fever abated yet! (_Aloud_) So here we have the long-expected son! (_Shakes his hand_) Do you know, my fine people, that a sort of foster-son of yours is standing here? The friendship with this dear old comrade of mine gives me almost a right to that title!
(Heinecke _tiptoes out of the door._)
Frau Heinecke. Wouldn't the Count like a piece of pound-cake? There is still some there.
Trast. Thanks, I shall be glad--I certainly shall!
(Frau Heinecke _curtseys out of the room._)
Trast. You're pale, my boy, and your hands are shaking--what's wrong?
Robert. Oh, nothing! The happiness--the excitement! It's only natural!
Trast. Naturally! (_Aside_) He's lying! (_To_ Robert) Tell me, how long do you intend to stay here? I want to regulate my stay in this great Europe by that!
Robert. That's impossible, my friend! Our ways will have to part!
Trast. Nonsense!
Robert. I shall ask my employer to give me a position here. The climate in India--you understand----?
Trast. That's pleasant! He doesn't want to leave his mother's apron-strings again, eh?
Robert. Don't make fun of me. Since we're going to part--I have to say it some time--I thank you, you kind old wicked fellow, for all you've done for me. It was the most fortunate moment of my life when you saw me standing feverishly behind my young employer in the Club at Buitenzorg, when he was throwing one hundred-gulden note after the other onto the green cloth.
Trast. Why was I such a fool? If you're going to--Ugh! It isn't decent!
Robert. Trast! don't hurt me. See, I owe everything to you. When I heard your name then--the name of Trast and Company that is known from Yokohama to Aden, I felt as though I were standing before the Kaiser himself!
Trast. Kaiser, by the grace of coffee!
Robert. Muhlingk's undertaking in Batavia was on the road to ruin that minute.
Trast. No wonder, when it had the worst good-for-nothing in the Archipelago for its head.
Robert. There was nothing ahead of me but failure and discharge. And then you took the poor home-sick clerk under your pinion, your name opened a hundred doors for me and I grew up into manhood under your care! And Herr Benno Muhlingk led his merry life as he pleased, and I ran the entire business.
Trast. And the end of the story is that the firm of Muhlingk, along with its clever representative, is a few thousands richer because of us. It's a shame! you ought to have profited by it yourself. Well, I'll open your employer's eyes to the kind of a man you've been! If he doesn't at least make you a partner, I shall declare such a corner in coffee, in my righteous wrath, that the noble German oak-leaf[6] shall be valued as never before. But, seriously, why do you insist on this caprice of remaining with the Muhlingks? I offer you a tremendous salary and a pair of trousers every Christmas. (Robert _shakes his head_) It isn't only gratitude that makes a man cling to such an insane idea! Of course if the inventory of the firm included a fair German maiden--(_Aside_) Aha! (_To_ Robert) Speaking of maidens, just listen to what happened to me last night. After we had left each other I wandered aimlessly along the street. A friendly poster invited into a masked ball. A hundred Indian dancers were to present their exciting dance according to the advertisement--well, that is my specialty--I went in. Everything seemed arranged to lead a young monk to forget his oath. And then suddenly there came before me a young girl, tender and fresh as a half-ripe peach. She seemed to be without a partner. I presented myself. Not at all bashful, she begged for a little plaything that hung on my watch-chain, in a little baby voice. It was my patron saint Ganesa, god of success, who rides on a little rat. And I smelled a rat myself. What do you suppose I found beneath her childish innocence? Naif depravity!
Robert. (_Nervously_) Are such things possible?
Trast. Listen. My heart always beats according to the tempo required by the custom of the land whose hospitality I am enjoying. I always keep a harem in the Orient; in Italy I climb the garden wall by moonlight, in France I pay the dressmaker's bills, and--Lord!--in Germany--well, I know the return journey from virtue, too! All according to rule! In the Orient one loves with his senses, in Italy with his imagination, in France with his pocketbook, in Germany with his conscience! So I tried to change this sinning child to a repentant Magdalen. Before I could get started, however, the champagne had to be uncorked--then came a gentleman, half demon and half fool, and claimed the lady as his own. I respected the ancient law of precedence, and went to bed the poorer by one good act. But I would give a good deal to know how it happened that a sweet little thing like--(Robert _covers his face with his hands_) Good Lord!--what is it?--Shh!
(_Enter_ Frau Heinecke.)
Frau Heinecke. Bobby!
Robert. Mother!
Frau Heinecke. Have you got a corkscrew by you? (_To_ Trast) My daughter would like to offer you a bottle of wine. It's no ordinary wine, either, it's the best there is!
Robert. Comes from the Avenue, I suppose?
Frau Heinecke. (_Proudly_) It does indeed.
Robert. There! (_Throws down his knife on the table_)
Frau Heinecke. How you _do_ act!
Robert. Yes, I forgot!--Forgive me!
(Frau Heinecke _goes out._)
Trast. Now confess, my boy! Trust in me!
Robert. Oh, if I had only never seen my home again!
Trast. Ha! so that's where the wind blows from.
Robert. I am ashamed of the position I was born in. My own people have become nothing to me. My whole being shudders from contact with them. I can't trust my mind, one mad suspicion follows the other! Trast! I almost believe I don't even respect the breast that nursed me!
Trast. That's simply rot!
Robert. If I could only explain what I have suffered! Every serious word strikes me like a blow! And every pleasantry like a slap in the face! It seems as though they could talk of nothing but what hurts me--I thought I was coming back to a home,--instead of that it's a strange world where I dare hardly breathe!--Advise me what to do!
Trast. Pack your trunk!
Robert. That would be a cowardly and heartless retreat! Do they deserve that--My own parents!
Trast. Listen--drop the pathetic note--The matter is simple enough for us. We've studied caste in its native wilds. The same castes exist here. They aren't established by food-laws, or marriage-rules and religious etiquette; those were simple. The chasm that can't be bridged is the difference of feeling--each caste has its own sense of honor, its own nice distinctions, its own ideas, yes, even its own speech. Unhappy is the man who has fallen out of his own caste and hasn't the courage to cut himself off from it entirely. Just such a declasse are you!--and you know, I was the same thing myself! Just what you are feeling now, I went through years ago. How do you suppose I felt, _chic_ young cavalry officer, when I woke one morning to the realization that I had gambled away ninety thousand talers that had to be paid in twenty-four hours. What good did it do me to ride home and throw myself at my father's feet? He would have put his head in pawn to save the honor of our name--but he had already done so! And, since he had nothing else to give me, he gave me at least his curse!
Robert. (_Brooding_) How you had the courage to live after that!
Trast. Do you know what happened then?
Robert. (_Absently, tortured by his own thoughts_) I know nothing--nothing--nothing!
Trast. Then listen to me! Perhaps it may be of use to you. When my comrades said farewell to me they did me the last favor of placing a cocked revolver on my table. I looked at the matter from all sides. I took for granted that, without my honor I could not live. Then, as I pointed the thing to my forehead the thought came to me--this is brutal, this is silly! How different are you to-day from what you were three days ago? Perhaps you deserved punishment for having promised money that you didn't have; but not death! For thousands of years men have enjoyed the light of the sun without letting the phantom of honor darken it. To-day nine hundred and ninety thousands of people belong to that same class, live as they did, and work as they did, and enjoy the sun as they did! Twelve years later--of course my debt was long since cancelled--when I came back to Europe a sort of reconciliation took place between my father and me. But it was only an outward reconciliation. If he had found me, like a prodigal son, lying on his doorstep, he would have lifted me up from the dirt with trembling hands and pressed me to his bosom. Since I carried my head a little defiantly and was in a position to help him out with half a million or so he couldn't forgive me. A few weeks later I left. The rich coffee seller and the poor cavalier had nothing in common.
Robert. And now he's dead!
Trast. May he find peace in the heaven he believed in! Now the moral: leave your parents their point of view. You can't change that. Give where there is need--give all you have, and then--come with me!
Robert. I can't! Listen, I'll tell you why. I didn't tell you before because I was ashamed. I have a little sister, she was a baby when I left. Oh, how I longed to see her and looked forward to the meeting! And I wasn't disappointed, for she was prettier and sweeter than I had hoped! But my love for her before a thousand fears I am afraid to mention! For what she does and lets others do with her--in perfect innocence, of course--goes against every feeling of honor I possess! Just now when you were telling about that girl in the dance-hall; a cold shiver went through me! Because--no, no, a thousand times no! Here is my place! I must stay here, to stand or fall!
Trast. I admit you have reasons that are at least worth considering. But you are excited. I'll wager you are looking at the dark side!
Robert. Would to God! (_He sits down_)
(_Enter_ Alma, _with a tea-tray, upon which is a bottle of wine and three glasses. The Count makes a start_, Alma _cries out. The tea-tray almost falls_)
Trast. (_Quickly seizing the situation, steps to her aid_) Came near being a catastrophe, Fraulein! (_Aside_) It is a catastrophe!
Robert. See, Trast, this is she! Isn't she an angel? There, give him your hand, and tell him he's welcome!
Alma. (_Aside_) Don't tell on me--eh?
Trast. (_Aside_) Poor devil! How can I get him out of it?
CURTAIN.