Part 5

The Lady (_somewhat excited_).

Don't mention that name, Herr von Wolters! I can't stand it! What could have possessed that man Renoir--? But do tell me the rest. I've heard only the merest details. They've only told me what they thought necessary.

v. Wolters.

No one knows what actually occurred between the two men. He begged me to ask no questions. You know, he was so reserved of late. It may be that certain expressions which passed between them a few days ago--after they had been drinking--had something to do with it--no one knows. Perhaps there was some insult which was given in private--and which neither of them would make public. The assurance that the injury, whatever it may have been, was irreparable, must satisfy us.

The Lady.

Oh, how I hate that man Renoir!--quite apart from the trouble which he has gotten me into! My husband warned me against him long ago. "That scoundrel will compromise you some day," he said, "and then I'll have to fight a duel with him." Instead--this! Oh, you poor, poor darling! And now, when all was so quiet and peaceful between us!

v. Wolters.

My dear Countess, if you think that the change which came over him in the last few months betokened peace and quiet----

The Lady (_nervously_).

I don't know anything about that! It wasn't my fault! Was I to blame if he insisted on having notions? Tell me one thing, Herr von Wolters, did he die easily?

v. Wolters.

No one dies easily, Countess.

The Lady.

Was he still living when they reached the house?

v. Wolters.

No, he died on the field.

The Lady.

Do you know my first name, Herr von Wolters?

v. Wolters.

Certainly.

The Lady (_hesitating_).

Did he--by any chance--speak--that name?

v. Wolters.

That would have betrayed his secret, Countess.

The Lady.

I only meant--at the very last--when he was no longer--conscious.

v. Wolters.

No, Countess. But--pardon me, I don't want to be indelicate--but did he ever call you by some little--little term of endearment--some-- (_Stops, embarrassed._)

The Lady.

Why do you ask?

v. Wolters.

At the very end, he kept murmuring something that sounded like "Girlie"--or----

The Lady (_indignantly_).

My dear Herr von Wolters, our intimacy was of a different sort.

v. Wolters.

Pardon me, Countess, but you yourself asked. (_She nods. A short pause._)

The Lady.

Good heavens--these curtains over the mirrors! They make me feel as if I were looking a blind man in the eyes!

v. Wolters.

Would you like to have me remove them?

The Lady.

No, no. Never mind. I want to ask you something, Herr von Wolters. Tell me, what do you think of me?

v. Wolters (_confused_).

What do you mean, Countess?

The Lady.

I want to know what I have done that I should be doomed to bring so much sorrow into the lives of others. I had only just left school when a strange young man shot himself under my window. It was on my account that my husband was transferred here from his former garrison. Tell me, what mark of Cain do I bear that all men follow me? I dress as simply as I can. I never go out without a double veil. Sometimes I have actually been tempted to throw vitriol in my face!

v. Wolters (_candidly_).

Oh, that would have been a shame, Countess!

The Lady (_severely_).

Herr von Wolters!

v. Wolters.

Yes, Countess, to mar that image of divinity would be a sin--and I do not hesitate to repeat it beside the coffin of my friend.

The Lady.

Don't! (_Reaches him her hand, which he kisses respectfully._) Dear me, how strange it seems! Yesterday we scarcely knew one another--those few visits at my house don't count. To-day--this short conversation--and here we are, sitting side by side, the guardians of a secret which will be buried forever with him. It will, Herr von Wolters?

v. Wolters.

Ah, my dear Countess, please do not offend me.

The Lady.

Very well, I shall not worry. Did you love him very dearly?

v. Wolters.

I thought a great deal of him, Countess. He took care of me when I was a young fellow quite alone in the world. He was so-- Really, I don't know how I shall-- (_breaking down._)

The Lady.

Courage, dear friend! We must both try to be brave.

v. Wolters (_firmly_).

Thank you, Countess. You will not have to reprove me again.

The Lady.

You evaded my question before. Do you consider me very guilty, Herr von Wolters?

v. Wolters.

He loved you, Countess. That makes you holy in my eyes.

The Lady.

I thank you for that word--little as I deserve it. It has never been my way to undervalue myself. But your opinion meant so much to me----

v. Wolters (_puzzled_).

What difference could my humble opinion----

The Lady.

Don't say that, my dear friend. There are few people--perhaps not even my own husband--who have ever seen me as you see me at this moment--so weak, so helpless, so--I had almost said--unguarded. Remember that--and spare me.

v. Wolters.

I hope that I have not been inconsiderate, Countess.

The Lady.

(_Putting her hand to her brow, stammering._) No, no, no; it's--it's grieving for him that makes me lose my wits. The world had so long set me on a pedestal that I thought I belonged there. Now I feel as if I were torn down. Now I lie there-- Herr von Wolters, pay no attention to me!

v. Wolters.

If I could only help you, Countess!

The Lady (_smiling sorrowfully_).

Help me--you? And yet, why not? His friend and his beloved! It is we, you and I, who are paying the last honours to the dead. Who could know his worth better than we? Whose grief could be more eloquent than ours? No, no, no--I must not talk. Ah, I see him before me now with his bright, careless smile--his conqueror's smile! I suppose you never were courted by women as he was?

v. Wolters.

My dear Countess, I lead a fairly quiet, uneventful life.

The Lady.

But you're not--you're not a Puritan, are you?

v. Wolters.

I must let others judge of that, Countess.

The Lady.

Oh! I should like to cry out my sorrow to the whole world--say to them all, "You sordid souls, you couldn't know how much I loved him! What do I care if you damn me, if you----" (_The bell rings. She starts._) There's the bell!

v. Wolters (_reassuringly_).

Probably just a wreath.

The Lady.

And if it's not--a----?

v. Wolters.

Why, Daisy is outside. But to make sure-- (_Listens at the door, then opens it cautiously._) Daisy! (The Lady _drops her veil_. Daisy _appears at the threshold._)

Daisy.

What is it, Herr von Wolters?

v. Wolters.

Who rang?

Daisy.

It was a wreath.

v. Wolters (_to_ The Lady).

Just as I supposed.

The Lady (_to_ Daisy).

Come here, dear. (Daisy _comes forward._) You used to open the door for me, didn't you?

Daisy.

Yes.

The Lady.

But you don't know who I am?

Daisy.

No.

The Lady.

You'll not try to find out?

Daisy.

Oh, no.

The Lady.

Was he fond of you?

Daisy.

Oh, yes.

The Lady.

And have you been crying since he died?

Daisy.

No.

The Lady.

You're a pretty little girl.

Daisy (_going_).

Has my lady any more questions?

The Lady.

(_Taking out a gold purse, to_ v. Wolters.) Do you think one might give her anything? (v. Wolters _shakes his head._) Thank you, dear. We shall see each other again. (_As_ Daisy _lingers._) What is it?

Daisy.

Very well--since I shall see my lady again. (_Goes out._)

The Lady.

It did seem though, as if she were waiting for something.

v. Wolters.

If you will pardon me for the suggestion, it was surely not--not for money.

The Lady.

By the way, this incident reminds me of something I was just about to-- Herr von Wolters, are you my friend?

v. Wolters.

If you consider me worthy of that distinction, Countess.

The Lady.

Most assuredly. Well, Herr von Wolters, there is something that troubles me--something that desecrates my grief, if I may use the word. There's the anxiety--the fear that-- Yes, yes--I must tell you all. Herr von Wolters, he has my letters. Do you understand? (_He nods._) Didn't he give you something for me--a small, sealed package, perhaps--nothing?

v. Wolters.

You are forgetting, Countess, that I was ignorant of all this until a short time ago.

The Lady.

Yes, that's true. H'm--it's really too bad. Who has the keys?

v. Wolters.

Why, he gave them to me just before the duel. I have them with me.

The Lady.

You've looked through the writing-table?

v. Wolters.

Yes, I had to hand over his papers to the legal authorities. I didn't consider myself entitled to touch his private correspondence at present.

The Lady.

Why not?

v. Wolters.

He made a will the day before the duel.

The Lady.

Really? In whose favor?

v. Wolters.

I don't know.

The Lady.

What! Didn't he make any allusion--nothing----?

v. Wolters.

The only thing he said was that he had named me as executor.

The Lady.

But he had no relatives. Who is to inherit his large fortune?

v. Wolters.

As I've said, I don't know. However, he made a remark that I didn't quite understand, and that I--pardon me--would rather not repeat, if you don't mind.

The Lady.

Oh, please!

v. Wolters.

It might give you pain, Countess.

The Lady (_sadly_).

Nothing can give me pain after _this_.

v. Wolters.

Well, he said with a decided emphasis--though perhaps he did not intend that I should notice it--he said, "The one who loved me best shall be my heir."

The Lady.

What! He said that? Who could have loved him best if not I? (_Terrified._) For God's sake, Herr von Wolters!

v. Wolters.

Don't be alarmed, Countess. That would be too grotesque.

The Lady.

Perhaps this is his revenge.

v. Wolters.

Revenge? On you? What for?

The Lady.

No, no--I'm quite out of my senses, I-- But, as you have the keys, you won't mind doing me this slight favour.

v. Wolters.

What favour, Countess?

The Lady.

Search for the letters with me--now. It seems to me your duty, not only as a friend but as a gentleman.

v. Wolters.

Pardon me, my dear Countess, you were certainly his last--perhaps his only great love. But his life was varied--and if we were to open his desk now--I really don't know what we might find there.

The Lady.

You mean there would be letters from other----?

v. Wolters.

I must say no more.

The Lady.

Well, I'll shut my eyes. I'll only look for my own handwriting.

v. Wolters.

The will is to be opened in a few days, Countess. He has doubtless inserted a clause authorising me as executor to return certain papers to their owners--or destroy them.

The Lady.

Ah, I see you're a Puritan, after all.--No, no, I'll not trouble your conscience. This loyalty which you bear him to the very grave is so beautiful, so poetical, and I feel so near to you because of it--(_Putting her hand over her eyes._) Oh, those curtains in front of the mirrors! They make me feel as if I were dead myself, (v. Wolters _is about to tear them down._) No, no--don't. Thanks. Tell me, how long will it be before the will is opened?

v. Wolters.

Unfortunately, the day is not yet appointed.

The Lady.

I shall not sleep a moment until then. Not even my love, my grief, can outweigh this terrible fear. My honour, my future, my life--everything is at stake!

v. Wolters (_amazed_).

Countess!

The Lady.

Please stop calling me Countess.

v. Wolters.

Forgive me. What should I----?

The Lady.

Call me your friend. I want to be that. From this day you become closer to me than any other being in all the world. Are you not the legacy, as it were, that our dear dead has left me?--Ah, you and I must become like brother and sister, two beings who have--nothing--to conceal from one another. Herr von Wolters, will you be my guide, my confidant--my friend?

v. Wolters.

Countess! My dear, dear Countess!

The Lady (_softly_).

But you're not to----

v. Wolters.

Forgive me. Your kindness to me makes me feel so--confused--I----

The Lady.

Why should it? I feel certain that if he could see us at this moment, he himself would join our hands together.

v. Wolters.

Countess, if you ever need a man who would let himself be torn to pieces for you----

The Lady.

No, not that. I only want you to take this great weight from my soul.

v. Wolters.

Ah, Countess, I am a man of my word.

The Lady.

And that's what you call being torn to pieces for me?

v. Wolters (_trembling_).

Whether I can answer for this to him and to my own conscience--whether I can ever again think of him--without shame--will depend upon what we shall find in there.

The Lady.

But you will open it? (_A pause._) Herr von Wolters, you'll not let me die of fear and distraction?

v. Wolters.

I'll open it.

The Lady (_laying her hand on his arm_).

Thanks, thanks! Ah, you are good----

v. Wolters (_taking out the key_).

Don't thank me. I feel as if he could hear it in there.

The Lady (_shuddering involuntarily_).

No--no! (v. Wolters _turns the key in the keyhole unavailingly._) Won't it work?--Heavens, why your hand is trembling. Let me have it.

v. Wolters (_with a last attempt at resistance_).

The keys were entrusted to _me_, Countess.

The Lady (_coaxingly_).

Oh, do let me have it. (_Sits at the writing-table and opens the drawer. With a low cry of surprise._) Empty!

v. Wolters (_bending over her_).

Empty?

The Lady.

Are you sure that this was----?

v. Wolters.

Yes, that was the drawer in which he kept his private papers. I'm sure of it.

The Lady (_staring straight ahead_).

Well, how can you explain----?

v. Wolters.

Perhaps he burned everything.

The Lady (_springing to her feet_).

And perhaps not!--Who knows?--This is the way he played with the honour of the woman who gave him all! This is my thanks! This is the action of a gentleman!

v. Wolters.

No gentleman, Countess, can do more than let himself be shot for a woman.

The Lady.

Who asked him to do it? Was it my fault if jealousy of Renoir drove him mad? And perhaps this is really his revenge! Perhaps we'll live to see even more interesting disclosures!--This is my reward! This-- (Daisy _appears at the door in the centre._) What do you want?

Daisy.

I beg your pardon. My lady is looking for--letters?

The Lady.

So you've been in there eavesdropping, have you?

Daisy.

I brought in a wreath.

The Lady.

Well, what do you know about my letters?

Daisy.

Here they are. (_Takes a small package of letters from her dress and hands it to_ The Lady.) I intended to give them to you _secretly_ when you left.

The Lady.

(_Snatches the letters from her hand and looks at them._) How do you happen to have these letters?

Daisy (_wonderingly_).

Why, how should I happen to have them? He gave them to me.

The Lady.

To you? Who are you? Why to you?

Daisy.

Because he knew that I would do exactly what he told me to do.

The Lady (_to_ v. Wolters).

Can you understand this?

v. Wolters (_gently_).

What did he tell you to do, Daisy?

Daisy.

He said to me, "These letters belong to the lady who used to come to see me sometimes. No one is to know about her--not even Herr von Wolters.--When I am dead, the lady will----

v. Wolters.

Did he say that?

Daisy.

Yes. "When I am dead, the lady will probably come here again. If she does, give her these letters. If she doesn't, then burn them with the others."

v. Wolters.

What others?

Daisy.

Those over there in the stove.

The Lady (_examining the letters_).

Look at this! Unsealed! Unwrapped!

Daisy (_smiling_).

He knew that I wouldn't read them.

The Lady.

I suppose from now on I shall be at _your_ mercy!

Daisy.

I don't know you, my lady. And even if I did, you need have no fear.

The Lady (_to_ v. Wolters).

Isn't she kind!

Daisy (_always respectfully_).

But I should like to ask you a favour, my lady.

The Lady.

By all means. What could I deny you, my dear?

Daisy.

(_Goes into the room behind and returns with the flowers that_ The Lady _had brought._) Oh please, please take these roses--away--with you.

The Lady.

What does this mean?

Daisy (_imploringly_).

Oh, please take them!

The Lady.

What right have you to make such a shameless request of me?

Daisy.

I heard--forgive me, I didn't want to--I heard the way you spoke about him before. And it seems to me that your flowers no longer belong upon his coffin.

The Lady.

What do you say to that, Herr von Wolters? This person acts as if she were the mistress of the house!

Daisy (_proudly_).

I am.

The Lady.

(_Stares at her through her lorgnette and smiles._) Oh, really!

Daisy (_her bearing pure and proud_).

The night before he died I became--his wife. (_A long pause._)

The Lady.

I hope you'll come and take tea with me in the near future, Herr von Wolters.

v. Wolters.

Pray, excuse me, but official duties will make it impossible for me to----

The Lady.

(_Taken aback, but quickly recovering herself._) Thank you just the same. (_A loud ring._)

Daisy (_starts and looks at the clock_).

There are the troops already.--Would you be so kind, Herr von Wolters--? Please let no one come in here. (v. Wolters _bows and hurries out at the right._) May I take you out the back way, my lady? No one will see you--or at least, only my mother. (_As the heavy steps of the soldiers are heard, to herself, in suppressed agony._) And meanwhile--they will--take the coffin--away! (_Regaining possession of herself._) But wouldn't it be better to drop your veil? (The Lady _does so._) And your roses--do take them! (The Lady _snatches the roses from her hand._) This way, please. (_She opens the door at the left and goes out slowly behind_ The Lady, _her eyes turned longingly toward the room behind._)

Curtain.

IV

THE FAR-AWAY PRINCESS

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

CHARACTERS

The Princess von Geldern. Baroness von Brook, her maid of honour. Frau von Halldorf. Liddy \ > her daughters Milly / Fritz Struebel, a student. Frau Lindemann. Rosa, a waitress. A Lackey.

The Present Day.

_The scene is laid at an inn situated above a watering-place in central Germany._

THE FAR-AWAY PRINCESS

_The veranda of an inn. The right side of the stage and half of the background represent a framework of glass enclosing the veranda. The left side and the other half of the background represent the stone walls of the house. To the left, in the foreground, a door; another door in the background, at the left. On the left, back, a buffet and serving-table. Neat little tables and small iron chairs for visitors are placed about the veranda. On the right, in the centre, a large telescope, standing on a tripod, is directed through an open window_. Rosa, _dressed in the costume of the country, is arranging flowers on the small tables_. Frau Lindemann, _a handsome, stoutish woman in the thirties, hurries in excitedly from the left_.

Frau Lindemann.

There! Now she can come--curtains, bedding--everything fresh and clean as new! No, this honour, this unexpected honour--! Barons and counts have been here often enough. Even the Russian princes sometimes come up from the Springs. I don't bother my head about them--they're just like--that!--But a princess--a real princess!

Rosa.

Perhaps it isn't a real princess after all.

Frau Lindemann (_indignantly_).

What? What do you mean by that!

Rosa.

I was only thinking that a real princess wouldn't be coming to an inn like this. Real princesses won't lie on anything but silks and velvets. You just wait and see; it's a trick!

Frau Lindemann.

Are you going to pretend that the letter isn't genuine;--that the letter is a forgery?

Rosa.

Maybe one of the regular customers is playing a joke. That student, Herr Struebel, he's always joking. (_Giggles._)

Frau Lindemann.

When Herr Struebel makes a joke, he makes a decent joke, a real, genuine joke. Oh, of course one has to pretend to be angry sometimes--but as for writing a forged letter--My land!--a letter with a gold crown on it--there! (_She takes a letter from her waist, and reads._) "This afternoon, Her Highness, the Princess von Geldern, will stop at the Fairview Inn, to rest an hour or so before making the descent to the Springs. You are requested to have ready a quiet and comfortable room, to guard Her Highness from any annoying advances, and, above all, to maintain the strictest secrecy regarding this event, as otherwise the royal visit will not be repeated. Baroness von Brook, maid of honour to Her Highness." Now, what have you got to say?

Rosa.

Herr Struebel lent me a book once. A maid of honour came into that, too. I'm sure it's a trick!

Frau Lindemann (_looking out toward the back_).

Dear, dear, isn't that Herr Struebel now, coming up the hill? To-day of all days! What on earth does he always want up here?

Rosa (_pointedly_).

He's in such favour at the Inn.--He won't be leaving here all day.

Frau Lindemann.

That won't do at all. He's got to be sent off. If I only knew how I could--Oh, ho! I'll be disagreeable to him--that's the only way to manage it!

(Struebel _enters. He is a handsome young fellow without much polish, but cheerful, unaffected, entirely at his ease, and invariably good-natured._)

Struebel.

Good day, everybody.

Frau Lindemann (_sarcastically_).

Charming day.

Struebel (_surprised at her coolness_).

I say! What's up? Who's been rubbing you the wrong way? May I have a glass of beer any way? Glass of beer, if you please!--Several glasses of beer, if you please.--(_Sits down._) Pestiferously hot this afternoon.

Frau Lindemann (_after a pause_).

H'm, H'm!

Struebel.

Landlady Linda, dear, why so quiet to-day?

Frau Lindemann.

In the first place, Herr Struebel, I would have you know that my name is Frau Lindemann.

Struebel.

Just so.

Frau Lindemann.

And secondly, if you don't stop your familiarity----

Struebel.

(_Singing, as_ Rosa _brings him a glass of beer._) "Beer--beer!"--Heavens and earth, how hot it is! (_Drinks._)

Frau Lindemann.

If you find it so hot, why don't you stay quietly down there at the Springs?

Struebel.

Ah, my soul thirsts for the heights--my soul thirsts for the heights every afternoon. Just as soon as ever my sallow-faced pupil has thrown himself down on the couch to give his red corpuscles a chance to grow, "I gayly grasp my Alpine staff and mount to my beloved."

Frau Lindemann (_scornfully_).

Bah!

Struebel.

Oh, you're thinking that _you_ are my beloved? No, dearest: my beloved stays down there. But to get nearer to her, I have to come up here--up to your telescope. With the aid of your telescope I can look right into her window--see?

Rosa (_laughing_).

Oh, so that's why----

Frau Lindemann.

Perhaps you think I'm interested in all that?--Besides, I've no more time for you.--Moreover, I'm going to have this place cleaned right away. Good-bye, Herr Struebel. (_Goes out._)

Struebel (_laughing_).

I certainly caught it that time! See here, Rosa, what's got into her head?

Rosa (_mysteriously_).

Ahem, there are crowned heads and other heads--and--ahem--there are letters _with_ crowns and letters _without_ crowns.

Struebel.

Letters--? Are you----?

Rosa.

There are maids of honour--and other maids! (_Giggles._)

Struebel.

Permit me. (_Tapping her forehead lightly with his finger._) Ow! Ow!

Rosa.

What's the matter?

Struebel.

Why, your head's on fire! Blow! Blow! And while you are getting some salve for my burns, I'll just-- (_Goes to the telescope._)

(_Enter_ Frau Von Halldorf, Liddy, _and_ Milly. Frau Von Halldorf _is an aristocratic woman, somewhat supercilious and affected._)

Liddy.

Here's the telescope, mother. Now you can see for yourself.

Frau v. Halldorf.

What a pity that it's in use just now.

Struebel (_stepping back_).

Oh, I beg of you, ladies--I have plenty of time. I can wait.

Frau v. Halldorf (_condescendingly_).

Ah, thanks so much. (_She goes up to the telescope, while Struebel returns to his former place._) Waitress! Bring us three glasses of milk.

Liddy (_as_ Milly _languidly drops into a chair_).

Beyond to the right is the road, mother.

Frau v. Halldorf.

Oh, I have found the road, but I see no carriage--neither a royal carriage nor any other sort.

Liddy.

Let me look.

Frau v. Halldorf.

Please do.

Liddy.

It has disappeared now.

Frau v. Halldorf.