Chapter 11

Why later on?... (_He rises and stands leaning against the piano_) There can be no reasonable ground for changing our musical relationships. I think both of us would suffer equally from doing so. Without overestimating myself, I don't think it likely that you can find a better coach than I am. And as for my compositions, I don't know of anybody who could understand them better--with whom I would rather discuss them than with you.

CECILIA

And yet that's what you will have to come to.

AMADEUS

I can't see it. After all, we have nobody else to consider--at least, I have not.

CECILIA

Nor have I. I shall know how to preserve my freedom.

AMADEUS

Well, then...?!

CECILIA

Nevertheless, Amadeus.... That we must meet and talk is made necessary by our positions, of course.... But even in regard to our work things cannot possibly remain as hitherto. I'm sure you must realize that.

AMADEUS

I can't see it. And--leaving our artistic relations entirely aside--there is much else to be considered--things of more importance. Our boy, Cecilia. Why should the youngster all at once be made fatherless, so to speak?

CECILIA

That's entirely out of the question. We must come to an understanding, of course.

AMADEUS

An understanding, you say. But why make difficulties that could be avoided by a little good-will? The boy is mine as much as yours. Why shouldn't we continue to bring him up together?

CECILIA

You suggest things that simply can't be done.

AMADEUS

I don't feel like you about that.--On the contrary! The more I consider our situation calmly, the more irrational it seems to me that we should part ways like any ordinary divorced couple ... that we should give up the beautiful home we have in common....

CECILIA

Now you are dreaming again, Amadeus!

AMADEUS

We have been such good chums besides. And so we might remain, I think.

CECILIA

Oh, of course, we shall.

AMADEUS

Well, then! The things that bind us together are so compelling, after all, that any new experiences brought by our freedom must seem absolutely unessential in comparison. Don't you realize that as I do? And _we_ shouldn't have to consider what people may say. I think we have the right to place ourselves on a somewhat higher level. In the last instance, we must always belong together, even if a single tie should be severed among the hundreds that unite us. Or are we all of a sudden to forget what we have been to each other--as well as what we may and should be to each other hereafter? One thing remains certain: that no one else will ever understand you as I do, and no one me as you do.... And that's what counts in the end! So why shouldn't we....

CECILIA

No, it's impossible! Not because of the people. They concern me as little as they do you. But for our own sake.

AMADEUS

For our own sake...?

CECILIA

You see, there is one thing you forget: that, beginning with to-day, we shall have _secrets_ to keep from each other. Who knows how many--or how heavy they may prove?... But even the least of them must come between us like a veil.

AMADEUS

Secrets...?

CECILIA

Yes, Amadeus.

AMADEUS

No, Cecilia.

CECILIA

What do you mean?

AMADEUS

That's exactly what must not happen.

CECILIA

But--Amadeus!

AMADEUS

There must never be any secrets between us two. Everything depends on that--you are right to that extent. But why should there be any secrets between us? Remember that after to-day we shall no longer be man and wife, but chums--just chums, who can hide nothing from each other--who must not hide anything. Or is that more than you dare?

CECILIA

More than I dare...? Of course not.

AMADEUS

All right. We'll discuss everything frankly, just as we have been doing--nay, we shall have more things than ever to discuss. Truth becomes now the natural basis of our continued relationship--truth without any reservation whatsoever. And that should prove highly profitable, not only to our mutual relationship, but to each one of us individually. Because ... you don't think, do you, that either one of us could find a better chum than the other one?... Now we shall bring our joys and sorrows to each other. We shall be as good friends as ever, if not better still. And our hands shall be joined, even if chasms open between us. And thus we shall keep all that we have had in common hitherto: our work, our child, our home--all that we must continue to have in common if it is to retain its full value to both of us. And we shall gain many new things for which both of us have longed--things in which I could take no pleasure, by the way, if I had to lose you.

CECILIA (_drops him a curtsey_)

AMADEUS

That's how you feel, too, Cecilia. I am sure of it. We simply cannot live without each other. I certainly cannot live without you.--And how about you?

CECILIA

It's quite likely I should find it a little difficult.

AMADEUS

Then we agree, Cecilia!

CECILIA

You think so...?!

AMADEUS

Cecilia! (_He suddenly draws her closer to himself_)

CECILIA (_with new hope lighting her glance_)

What are you doing?

AMADEUS (_putting his arms about her_)

I now bid good-by to my beloved.

CECILIA

Forever.

AMADEUS

Forever. (_Pressing her hand_) And now I am welcoming my friend.

CECILIA

For all time to come--nothing but your friend.

AMADEUS

For all time...? Of course!

CECILIA (_draws a deep breath_)

AMADEUS

Yes, Cecilia, don't you feel much easier all at once?

CECILIA

The whole thing seems very strange to me--like a dream almost.

AMADEUS

There is nothing strange about it. Nothing could possibly be simpler or more sensible. Life goes right on ... and all is well.... Come on, Cecilia--let us run through those songs.

CECILIA

What songs...?

AMADEUS

Don't you care?

CECILIA

Oh, why not?--With pleasure....

AMADEUS (_seating himself at the piano_)

Really, I can't tell you how happy this makes me! There has practically been no change whatever. The uneasiness alone is gone ... that uneasiness of the last few weeks.... I have not had a very happy time lately. The sky has seemed so black above our house--and not only above _ours_. Now the clouds are vanishing. The whole world has actually grown light again. And I am going to write a symphony--oh, a symphony...!

CECILIA

Everything in due time.... Just now let us have one of those songs at least.... Oh, that one...?

AMADEUS

Don't you want it?

CECILIA

Oh, as it's there already....

AMADEUS

Now, then--I start. (_He strikes the first chord_) Please don't put a lot of sentimentality into the opening words. They should be reserved and ponderous.

CECILIA (_singing_)

"No more to meet you was my firm...."

AMADEUS

Very fine.

CECILIA

O Amadeus!

AMADEUS

What is it?

CECILIA

I am afraid you will become too lenient now.

AMADEUS

Lenient...? You know perfectly well that, as artist considered, you have no rival in my eyes, and will never have one.

CECILIA

Really, Amadeus, you shouldn't be flirting with all your pupils.

AMADEUS

I have the greatest respect for you.--Now let's go in!

CECILIA

"No more to meet...."

AMADEUS

What's the matter?

CECILIA

Nothing. I haven't tried to sing anything like this for a long time. Go right on!

AMADEUS (_begins playing again_)

CECILIA

"No more to meet you was my firm and sworn decision, and yet when evening comes, I...."

CURTAIN

THE SECOND ACT

_The same room as in the previous act. It is an evening in October. The stage is dark. Marie and the chambermaid enter together. The maid turns on the light._

MARIE

Thank you.--But if your mistress is tired, please tell her she mustn't let me disturb her.

CHAMBERMAID

She hasn't arrived yet. She's not expected until this evening.

AMADEUS (_enters from the right, with hat and overcoat on_) Who is it?... Oh, is it you, Marie! Glad to see you. Have you been here long?

MARIE

No, I just got here. I meant to call on Cecilia, but I hear....

AMADEUS

Then you can keep me company waiting for her. (_Handing overcoat and hat to the maid_) Please take these.

CHAMBERMAID (_goes out_)

AMADEUS

I have also just got home. I had to do a lot of errands. I start the day after to-morrow.

MARIE

So soon!--That'll be a short reunion.

AMADEUS

Yes.--Won't you sit down, please? (_Looking at his watch_) Cecilia should be here in an hour.

MARIE

She has had a tremendous success again.

AMADEUS

I should say so! Look here--the telegram I got this morning. (_He takes it from the writing desk and hands it to Marie_) It refers to her final appearance last night.

MARIE

Oh.... Twenty-seven curtain calls...!

AMADEUS

What?... Naw! That flourish belongs to the preceding word. Seven only! Otherwise she wouldn't be coming to-day.

MARIE (_reading again_)

"Have new offer on brilliant terms."

AMADEUS

On _brilliant_ terms!

MARIE

Then I suppose she'll do it at last?

AMADEUS

Do what?

MARIE

Settle down in Berlin for good.

AMADEUS

Oh, it isn't certain. "Have offer," she says, and not "have accepted offer." No, we'll have to talk it over first.

MARIE

Really?

AMADEUS

Of course. We consult each other about everything, my dear Marie--just as we used to do. And in a much more impersonal spirit than before. As far as I am concerned, I shall be quite free next year, and have no more reason to live in Vienna than in Berlin or in America.

MARIE

But it will be dreadful for me if Cecilia goes away.

AMADEUS

Well, these successes abroad may possibly force the people here to understand what they have in Cecilia, and to act accordingly.

MARIE

I hope so.--Besides, I think really that Cecilia has developed a great deal lately. To me her voice seems fuller and richer--with more soul to it, I might say.

AMADEUS

Yes, don't you think so? That's my feeling, too.

MARIE

But how she _does_ work! It had never occurred to me that a finished artist might be so industrious.

AMADEUS

Might, you say? Must, you should say.

MARIE

Last summer, when I came out mornings in the garden to play with my children, she would be practicing already--just like a young student. With absolute regularity, from nine until a quarter of ten. Then again before lunch, from twelve to half past. And finally another half hour in the evening.... If the weather was good or bad; if she was in good spirits or....

AMADEUS

Or...?

MARIE

She was always in good spirits for that matter. I don't think anything in the world could have kept her from practicing those runs and trills.

AMADEUS

Yes, that's her way. Nothing in the world could keep her from.... But then, what could there be to keep her from it last Summer? In that rustic retreat of yours, where you didn't see anybody ... or hardly anybody....

MARIE

Nobody at all.

AMADEUS

Well, you received a call now and then--or Cecilia did, at least.

MARIE

Oh, I see. You mean--Prince Sigismund. He could hardly be said to call.

AMADEUS (_smilingly, with an appearance of unconcern_)

Why not?

MARIE

He merely whisked by on his wheel.

AMADEUS (_as before_)

Oh, he must at least have stopped to lean against a tree for a few moments. He must even have taken time enough--and I am mighty glad he did--to photograph the little house in which you were living. (_He takes from the desk a small framed photograph and hands it to Marie, who is seated on the couch_)

MARIE (_surprised_)

And you have that standing on your writing desk?

AMADEUS (_slightly puzzled_)

Why shouldn't I?

MARIE (_studying the photograph_)

Just as it was--Cecilia and I sitting on the bench there--yes. And there's the hazel by the garden fence.... How it does bring back the memory of that beautiful, warm Summer day...

AMADEUS (_bending over the desk to look at the picture_)

I can make out you and Cecilia, but those three boys puzzle me hopelessly.

MARIE

In what way...? That's little Peter, who is doing like this ... (_She blinks_)

AMADEUS

Oh, is that it?

MARIE

And that's Max--and he with the hoop is Mauritz.

AMADEUS

So that's a hoop?... I took it for one of those cabins used by the watchmen along the railroad. The background comes out much better. The landscape actually looks as if steeped in Summer and stillness.... (_Brief pause_)

MARIE

It was really nice. The deep shadows of the woods right back of the house, and that view of the mountain peaks--oh, marvelous! And then the seclusion.... It's too bad that you never had a look at that darling place. We thought ... Cecilia did expect you after all....

AMADEUS (_has risen and is walking to and fro_)

I don't believe it.... And it didn't prove feasible, for that matter. The pull of the South was still on me.

MARIE (_smiling_)

You call that the South?

AMADEUS (_smiling also_)

Oh, Marie!

MARIE (_a little embarrassed_)

I hope you're not offended?

AMADEUS

Why should I be? I didn't make a secret of my whereabouts to anybody.

MARIE (_confidentially_)

Albert told me about the villa, and the park, and the marble steps....

AMADEUS

So he gave you all those details? And yet he wasn't there more than an hour.

MARIE

I think he intends to use the park for his last act.

AMADEUS

Is that so? If he would only bring it to me... I mean the last act. I want to take it with me on my tour.

MARIE

Do you think you'll find time to work?

AMADEUS

Why not? I am always working. And I have never in my life been more eager about it. I, too, am having a brilliant period. For years I have not been doing better. And I am no less industrious than Cecilia. With the difference that regular hours are not in my line--nine to nine-forty-five, twelve to twelve-thirty, and so on. But you ask Albert! When he threw himself on the bed exhausted, in that inn at the Fedaja Pass, I sat down and finished the instrumentation for the _Capriccio_ in my Fourth.

CHAMBERMAID (_enters with a couple of letters and goes out again_)

AMADEUS

You'll pardon me, my dear Marie?

MARIE

Please don't mind me. (_She rises_)

AMADEUS

A letter from Cecilia, written yesterday, before the performance. I have had letters like this every day.

MARIE

Go right on and read it, please.

AMADEUS (_having opened the letter_)

Oh, there's plenty of time. In another hour Cecilia will be telling me all that's in it.... (_He opens the other letter, runs through it, and flings it away_) How stupid people are ... _how_ stupid! ... Ugh! And mean! (_He glances through Cecilia's letter once more_) Cecilia writes me about a reception at the house of the Director.... Sigismund was there, too. Yes, you know, of course, that Sigismund has been in Berlin?

MARIE (_embarrassed_)

I ... I thought ... Or rather, I knew ...

AMADEUS (_with an air of superiority_)

Well, well--there is no cause for embarrassment in that. Don't you consider the Prince an uncommonly sympathetic person?

MARIE

Yes, he's very pleasant. But I can assure you, Amadeus, that he came only once to our place in the Pustertal,[4] and he didn't stay more than two hours.

[4] A valley along the river Rienz, marking the northern limit of the Dolomite ranges in the Tirol.

AMADEUS (_laughing_)

And what if he had stayed a week...? Really, Marie, you're very funny!

MARIE (_shyly_)

May I tell you something?

AMADEUS

Anything you want, Marie.

MARIE

I'm convinced that you two will find each other again in spite of all.

AMADEUS

Find each other...? Who should? Cecilia and I? (_He rises_) Find each other? (_He walks to and fro, but stops finally near Marie_) A sensible woman like you, Marie--you ought to understand that Cecilia and I have never lost each other in any way. I think it's very singular.... (_He strolls back and forth again_) Oh, you must understand that the relationship between her and me is so beautiful--that now only it has become such that we couldn't imagine anything more satisfactory. We don't have to find each other again! Look here now--here are her letters. She has been writing me from eight to twelve pages every day--frank, exhaustive letters, as you can only write them to a friend--or rather, only to your very best friend. It is simply impossible to imagine a finer relationship.

ALBERT (_entering from the right_)

Good evening.

AMADEUS

You're rather late in getting here.

ALBERT

Good evening, Marie. (_He pats her patronizingly on the cheek_)

AMADEUS

There will hardly be time for work now. Cecilia will be here very soon.

ALBERT

Oh, we can always put in half an hour. I have brought along some notes for the third act.

MARIE

I think I shall go home, as the boys will be expecting me soon.

ALBERT

All right, child, you go on home.

AMADEUS

Why don't you stay instead? I am sure Cecilia will be glad to see you. And then Albert can take you home. You might get Peter to entertain you in the meantime.... Or would you prefer to stay here and listen?

ALBERT

No, child, you had better go in to Peter. Especially as Mr. von Rabagas doesn't appear in the third act--so you won't be losing much.

MARIE

I'll leave you alone. Bye-bye! (_She goes out_)

ALBERT

Now let's fall to! (_He brings out some notes from one of his pockets and begins to read_) "The stage shows an open stretch of rolling ground that slopes gradually toward the footlights. In the background stands a villa, with marble steps leading up to it. Still farther back, the sea can be felt rather than seen." (_Bowing to Amadeus_) "A tall plane tree in full leaf stands in the center of the stage."

AMADEUS (_laughing_)

So you have got it there?

ALBERT

It's meant as a compliment to you.

AMADEUS

Many thanks.

ALBERT (_after a pause_)

Tell me, Amadeus, is it actually true that the Count has become reconciled with the Countess after his duel with the painter?

AMADEUS

I don't know. For a good long while I haven't seen the Countess except at the opera. (_He rises and begins walking to and fro again_)

ALBERT (_shaking his head_)

There's something uncanny about that affair.

AMADEUS

Why? I think it's quite commonplace. A husband who has discovered his wife's (_sarcastically_) "disloyalty"....

ALBERT

That wasn't the point. But that he discovers it only six months too late, when his wife is already deceiving him with another man.--There would have been nothing peculiar about the Count having a fight with you. But the case is much more complicated. Here we have a young man all but killed because of an affair that is long past. And in the meantime you are left perfectly unmolested--or have been so far, at least.

AMADEUS (_walking as before_)

ALBERT

Do you know, what I almost regret--looking at it from a higher viewpoint? That the painter is not a man of genius ... and that the Count hasn't _really_ killed him. That would have put something tremendously tragi-comical into the situation. And that's what would have happened, if ... _he up there_ had a little more wit....

AMADEUS

How? What do you mean by that?

ALBERT

I mean, if I had been writing the play....

AMADEUS (_makes a movement as if hearing some noise outside_)

ALBERT

What is it?

AMADEUS

I thought I heard a carriage, but it was nothing. (_He looks at his watch_) And it wouldn't be possible yet.... You read on, please. (_Once more he begins walking back and forth_)

ALBERT

You're very preoccupied. I'll rather come back to-morrow morning.

AMADEUS

No, go on. I am not at all....

ALBERT (_rising_)

Let me tell you something, Amadeus. If it would please you--and it would be all one to me, you know--I could go with you.

AMADEUS

Where?... What do you mean?

ALBERT

On your tour. For a week, at least, or a fortnight, I should be very glad to stay by you ... (_affectionately_) until you have got over the worst.

AMADEUS

But...! Good gracious, do you think it's because of the Countess...? Why, that story is over long ago.

ALBERT

Which I know. And I know, too, that you are now trying other means of making yourself insensible. But I see perfectly well that, under the circumstances, you can't succeed all at once.

AMADEUS

What circumstances are you talking of anyhow?

ALBERT

My dear fellow, I should never have dreamt of forcing myself into your confidence, but as the matter has already got into the papers....

AMADEUS

What has got into the papers?

ALBERT

Haven't you read that thing in the New Journal to-night?

AMADEUS

What thing?

ALBERT

That Cecilia and Prince Sigismund.... But, of course, you are familiar with the main facts?

AMADEUS

I'm familiar with nothing. What is in the New Journal?

ALBERT

Just a brief notice--without any names, but not to be mistaken.... It reads something like this: "One of our foremost artists, who has just been celebrating triumphs in the metropolis of an adjoining state ... until now the wife of a gifted musician" ... or perhaps it was "highly gifted" ... and so on ... and so on ... "and a well-known Austrian gentleman, belonging to our oldest nobility, intend, we are told ..." and so on....

AMADEUS

Cecilia and the Prince...?!

ALBERT

Yes ... and then a hint that, in such a case, it would not prove very difficult to obtain a dispensation from the Pope....

AMADEUS

Has everybody gone crazy?... I can assure you that not a word of it is true!... You won't believe me?... I hope you don't think I would deny it, if.... Or do you actually mean that Cecilia might have ... from me.... Oh, dear, and you are supposed to be a friend of ours, a student of the human soul, and a poet!

ALBERT

I beg your pardon, but after what has happened it would not seem improbable....

AMADEUS

Not improbable...? It is simply impossible! Cecilia has never thought of it!

ALBERT

However, it ought not to surprise you that such a rumor has been started.

AMADEUS

Nothing surprises me. But I feel as if the relationship between Cecilia and myself were being profaned by tittle-tattle of that kind.

ALBERT

Pioneers like yourself must scorn the judgment of the world. Else they are in danger of being proved mere braggarts.

AMADEUS

Oh, I am no pioneer. The whole thing is a private arrangement between me and Cecilia, which gives us both the greatest possible comfort. Be kind enough, at least, to tell the people who ask you, that we are not going to be divorced--but that, on the other hand, we are not deceiving each other, as it is asserted in these scrawls with which I have been bombarded for some time. (_He indicates the letter which arrived at the same time as Cecilia's_)

ALBERT (_picks up the letter, glances through it, and puts it away again_) An anonymous letter...? Well, that's part of it....

AMADEUS

Explain to them, please, that there can be no talk of deceit where no lies have been told. Tell them that Cecilia's and my way of keeping faith with each other is probably a much better one than that practiced in so many other marriages, where both go their own ways all day long and have nothing in common but the night. You are a poet, are you not--and a student of the human soul? Well, why don't you make all this clear to the people who refuse to understand?

ALBERT

To convey all that would prove a rather complicated process. But if it means so much to you, I could make a play out of it. Then they would have no trouble in comprehending this new kind of marriage--at least between the hours of eight-thirty and ten.

AMADEUS

Are you so sure of that?

ALBERT

Absolutely. In a play I can make the case much clearer than it is presented by reality--without any of those superfluous, incidental side issues, which are so confusing in life. The main advantage is, however, that no spectators attend the entr'acts, so that I can do just what I please with you during those periods. And besides, I shall make you offer an analogy illuminating the whole case.

AMADEUS

An analogy, you say...?

ALBERT