Chapter 6

He has a child! He has a child! (_Pause_) Why do you permit it to be drifting around in the world then?

JULIAN

You yourself have given the explanation: in this respect the very best of us remains always something of a cad. And I am not the best one at that.

IRENE

Why don't you go and get it?

JULIAN

How could it be any of my concern? How could I dare to make it my concern? Oh, that's enough.... (_Pause_) Do you want another cup of tea?

IRENE

No, thanks. No more now. (_Pause; it is growing darker_) He has a child, and I have never known it! (_Protracted silence_)

VALET (_enters_)

JULIAN

What is it?

VALET

Lieutenant Wegrat asks if you are at home, sir?

JULIAN

Certainly. Ask him in.

VALET (_goes out after having turned on the light_)

IRENE

Young Wegrat?--I thought he had already left again.--The poor chap! He seemed utterly stunned.

JULIAN

I can imagine.

IRENE

You visited him at Salzburg?

JULIAN

Yes, I happened to be there a couple of days last August.

FELIX (_enters, dressed as a civilian_)

Good evening.--Good evening, Miss Herms.

IRENE

Good evening, Lieutenant.

JULIAN

My dear Felix--I was going to call on you--this very evening. It's extremely nice of you to take the trouble.

FELIX

I have to be off again the day after to-morrow, and so I wasn't sure whether I could find any chance at all to see you.

JULIAN

Won't you take off your coat?--Think of it, I didn't have the slightest idea.... It was Sala who told me--less than an hour ago.

[_Irene is looking from one to the other._

FELIX

We didn't dream of this when we took that walk in the Mirabell Gardens[4] last summer.

[4] The palace of Mirabell is one of the sights of Salzburg, the city near the Bavarian border, where Felix's regiment was stationed. It is now used as a museum. The gardens adjoining it are of the formal type so dear to, and so characteristic of, the eighteenth century.

JULIAN

Was it very sudden?

FELIX

Yes. And I, who couldn't be with her.... Late that evening I had to leave, and she died during the night.

IRENE

Say rather that she didn't wake up again next morning.

FELIX

We owe a lot of thanks to you, Miss Herms.

IRENE

Oh, please...!

FELIX

It always gave my mother so much pleasure to have you with her, chatting, or playing the piano to her.

IRENE

Oh, don't mention my playing...!

[_A clock strikes._

IRENE

Is it that late? Then I have to go.

JULIAN

What's the hurry, Miss Herms?

IRENE

I'm going to the opera. I have to make good use of the few days I shall still be here.

FELIX

Shall we see you at our house again, Miss Herms?

IRENE

Certainly.--You'll have to leave before me, won't you?

FELIX

Yes, my furlough will be up....

IRENE (_as if en passant_)

How long have you been an officer anyhow, Felix?

FELIX

For three years really--but I didn't apply for a commission until this year--a little too late, perhaps.

IRENE

Too late? Why?--How old are you, Felix?

FELIX

Twenty-three.

IRENE

Oh! (_Pause_) But when I saw you four years ago as a volunteer, I thought at once you would stay in the service.--Do you remember, Julian, I told you so at the time?

JULIAN

Yes....

FELIX

That must have been in the summer, the last time you called on us.

IRENE

I think so....

FELIX

Many things have changed since then.

IRENE

Indeed! Those were still happy days.--Don't you think so, Julian? For we haven't met either since we spent those beautiful summer evenings in the garden of the Wegrats.

JULIAN (_nods assent_)

IRENE (_stands again looking now at Julian and now at Felix; brief pause_) Oh, but now it's high time for me to be gone.--Good-by. Remember me at home, Lieutenant.--Good-by, Julian. (_She goes out, accompanied to the door by Julian_)

FELIX

Haven't you made some changes here?

JULIAN

Not to my knowledge. And how could you know anyhow? You have only been here two or three times.

FELIX

Yes. But the last time at one of the most important moments in my life. I came here to get your advice.

JULIAN

Well, everything has turned out in accordance with your wish. Even your father has resigned himself to it.

FELIX

Yes, he has resigned himself. Of course, he would have preferred to see me continue my technical studies. But now he has seen that it is quite possible to lead a sensible life in uniform too--without any debts or duels. In fact, my life is almost too smooth. However, there is at least more to anticipate for one of us than for most people. And that's always something.

JULIAN

And how are things at home?

FELIX

At home.... Really, it's almost as if that word had lost its meaning.

JULIAN

Has your father resumed his duties again?

FELIX

Of course. Two days later he was back in his studio. He is wonderful. But I can't quite understand it.... Am I disturbing you, Mr. Fichtner? You were putting your papers in order, I think.

JULIAN

Oh, there's no hurry about that. They're easily put in order. Most of them I burn.

FELIX

Why?

JULIAN

It's more sensible, don't you think, to destroy things one hardly cares to look at any more?

FELIX

But doesn't it make you rather sad to clean out your past like that?

JULIAN

Sad?... No, it's entirely too natural a process for that.

FELIX

I can't see it that way. Look here. To burn a letter, or a picture, or something of that kind, immediately after you have got it--that seems quite natural to me. But something at all worthy of being kept as a remembrance of some poignant joy or equally poignant sorrow would seem incapable of ever losing its significance again. And especially in the case of a life like yours, that has been so rich and so active.... It would seem to me that at times you must feel something like--awe in the face of your own past.

JULIAN

Where do you get such thoughts--you, who are so young?

FELIX

They just came into my head this minute.

JULIAN

You are not so very much mistaken, perhaps. But there is something else besides, that makes me want to clean house. I am about to become homeless, so to speak.

FELIX

Why?

JULIAN

I'm giving up my rooms here, and don't know yet what my next step will be. And so I think it's more pleasant to let these things come to a decent end rather than to put them in a box and leave them to molder away in a cellar.

FELIX

But don't you feel sorry about a lot of it?

JULIAN

Oh, I don't know.

FELIX

And then you must have mementoes that mean something to other people besides yourself. Sketches of all kinds, for instance, which I think you have saved to some extent.

JULIAN

Are you thinking of those little things I showed you in Salzburg?

FELIX

Yes, of those too, of course.

JULIAN

They are still wrapped up. Would you like to have them?

FELIX

Indeed, I should feel very thankful. They seemed to have a particular charm for me. (_Pause_) But there's something else I wanted to ask of you. A great favor. If you will let me....

JULIAN

Tell me, please.

FELIX

I thought you might still have left a picture of my mother as a young girl. A small picture in water colors painted by yourself.

JULIAN

Yes, I did paint such a picture.

FELIX

And you have still got it?

JULIAN

I guess it can be found.

FELIX

I should like to see it.

JULIAN

Did your mother remember this picture...?

FELIX

Yes, she mentioned it to me the last evening I ever saw her--the evening before she died. At the time I didn't imagine, of course, that the end was so near--and I don't think she could guess it either. To-day it seems rather peculiar to me that, on that very evening, she had to talk so much of days long gone by.

JULIAN

And of this little picture, too?

FELIX

It's a very good one, I understand.

JULIAN (_as if trying to remember_)

Where did I put it? Wait now.... (_He goes to a book case, the lower part of which has solid doors; these he opens, disclosing several shelves piled with portfolios_) I painted it in the country--in the little house where your grandparents used to live.

FELIX

I know.

JULIAN

You can hardly recall the old people, I suppose?

FELIX

Very vaguely. They were quite humble people, were they not?

JULIAN

Yes. (_He has taken a big portfolio from one of the shelves_) It ought to be in this portfolio. (_He puts it on the writing desk and opens it; then he sits down in front of it_)

FELIX (_stands behind him, looking over his shoulder_)

JULIAN

Here is the house in which they lived--your grandparents and your mother. (_He goes through the sketches, one by one_) And here is a view of the valley seen from the cemetery.

FELIX

In Summer....

JULIAN

Yes.--And here is the little inn at which your father and I used to stop.... And here.... (_He looks in silence at the sketch; both remain silent for a long while_)

FELIX (_picking up the sketch_)

How old was my mother at the time?

JULIAN (_who remains seated_)

Eighteen.

FELIX (_going a few steps away and leaning against the bookcase in order to get better light on the picture_)

A year before she was married, then.

JULIAN

It was done that very year. (_Pause_)

FELIX

What a strange look that meets me out of those eyes.... There's a smile on her lips.... It's almost as if she were talking to me....

JULIAN

What was it your mother told you--that last evening?

FELIX

Not very much. But I feel as if I knew more than she had told me. What a queer thought it is, that as she is now looking at me out of this picture, so she must have been looking at you once. It seems as if there was a certain timidity in that look. Something like fear almost.... In such a way you look at people out of another world, for which you long, and of which you are afraid nevertheless.

JULIAN

At that time your mother had rarely been outside the village.

FELIX

She must have been different from all other women you have met, wasn't she?--Why don't you say anything? I am not one of those men who cannot understand--who won't understand that their mothers and sisters are women after all. I can easily understand that it must have been a dangerous time for her--and for somebody else as well. (_Very simply_) You must have loved my mother very much?

JULIAN

You have a curious way of asking questions.--Yes, I did love her.

FELIX

And those moments must have been very happy ones, when you sat in that little garden with its overgrown fence, holding this canvas on your knees, and out there on the bright meadow, among all those red and white flowers, stood this young girl with anxiously smiling eyes, holding her straw hat in one hand.

JULIAN

Your mother talked of those moments that last evening?

FELIX

Yes.--It is childish perhaps, but since then it has seemed impossible to me that any other human being could ever have meant so much to you as this one?

JULIAN (_more and more deeply moved, but speaking very quietly_) I shall not answer you.--In the end I should instinctively be tempted to make myself appear better than I am. You know very well how I have lived my life--that it has not followed a regulated and direct course like the lives of most other people. I suppose that the gift of bestowing happiness of the kind that lasts, or of accepting it, has never been mine.

FELIX

That's what I feel. It is what I have always felt. Often with something like regret--or sorrow almost. But just people like you, who are destined by their very nature to have many and varied experiences--just such people should, I think, cling more faithfully and more gratefully to memories of a tender, peaceful sort, like this--rather than to more passionate and saddening memories.--Am I not right?

JULIAN

Maybe you are.

FELIX

My mother had never before mentioned this picture to me. Isn't it strange?... That last night she did it for the first time.--We were left alone on the veranda. The rest had already bid me good-by.... And all of a sudden she began to talk about those summer days of long, long ago. Her words had an undercurrent of meanings which she probably did not realize. I believe that her own youth, which she had almost ceased to understand, was unconsciously taking mine into its confidence. It moved me more deeply than I can tell you.--Much as she cared for me, she had never before talked to me like that. And I believe that she had never been quite so dear to me as in those last moments.--And when finally I had to leave, I felt that she had still much more to tell me.--Now you'll understand why I had such a longing to see this picture.--I have almost the feeling that it might go on talking to me as my mother would have done--if I had only dared to ask her one more question!

JULIAN

Ask it now.... Do ask it, Felix.

FELIX (_who becomes aware of the emotion betrayed in the voice of Julian, looks up from the picture_)

JULIAN

I believe that it can still tell you a great many things.

FELIX

What is the matter?

JULIAN

Do you want to keep that picture?

FELIX

Why...?

JULIAN

Well ... take it. I don't give it to you. As soon as I have settled down again, I shall want it back. But you shall have a look at it whenever you want. And I hope matters will be so arranged that you won't have far to go either.

FELIX (_with his eyes on the picture_)

It grows more alive every second.... And that look was directed at you.... That look...? Can it be possible that I read it right?

JULIAN

Mothers have their adventures, too, like other women.

FELIX

Yes, indeed, I believe it has nothing more to hide from me.

[_He puts down the picture. Then a long pause follows. At last Felix puts on his coat._

JULIAN

Are you not going to take it along?

FELIX

Not just now. It belongs to you much more than I could guess.

JULIAN

And to you ...

FELIX

No, I don't want it until this new thing has become fully revealed to me. (_He looks Julian firmly in the eyes_) I don't quite know where I am. In reality, of course, there has been no change whatever. None--except that I know now what I ...

JULIAN

Felix!

FELIX

No, that was something I could never have guessed. (_Looks long at Julian with an expression of mingled tenderness and curiosity_) Farewell.

JULIAN

Are you going?

FELIX

I need badly to be by myself for a while.--Until to-morrow.

JULIAN

Yes, and no longer, Felix. To-morrow I shall come to your--I'll call on _you_, Felix.

FELIX

I shall be waiting for you. (_He goes out_)

JULIAN (_stands quite still for a moment; then he goes to the writing desk and stops beside it, lost in contemplation of the picture_)

CURTAIN

THE THIRD ACT

_A room at the Wegrats' adjoining the veranda. The outlook is, of course, determined by the location._

JOHANNA (_is seated on a stool with her hands folded in her lap_)

SALA (_enters_)

Good morning, Johanna.

JOHANNA (_rises, goes to meet him, and draws him close to herself_) Are you coming for the last time?

SALA

For the last time? What an idea! There has not been the slightest change in our arrangements. To-day is the seventh of October, and the ship will leave Genoa on the twenty-sixth of November.

JOHANNA

Some day you will suddenly have disappeared. And I shall be standing by the garden door, and nobody will come to open it.

SALA

But that sort of thing is not needed between us two.

JOHANNA

No, indeed--bear that in mind.

FELIX (_enters_)

Oh, is that you, Mr. von Sala? (_They shake hands_) Well, how far have you got with your preparations?

SALA

There are hardly any needed. I shall pack my trunk, pull down the shades, lock the doors--and be off for the mysteries of far-away. There is something I want to ask you apropos of that, Felix. Would you care to come along?

FELIX (_startled_)

If I care.... Are you asking seriously, Mr. von Sala?

SALA

There is just so much seriousness in my question as you wish to put into it.

FELIX

What does it mean anyhow? If I want to go along to Asia? What use could they have for me in a venture of that kind?

SALA

Oh, that's pretty plain.

FELIX

Is the expedition not going to be one of purely scientific character?

SALA

Yes, that's what it is meant for, I suppose. But it is quite possible that various things may happen that would make the presence of some young men like you very desirable.

FELIX

Men like me...?

SALA

When Rolston went out there seven years ago, a lot of things happened which were not provided for in the original program. And they had to fight a regular battle, on a small scale, in the Kara-Kum district, not far from the river Amu-Daria.

REUMANN (_who has entered while Sala was speaking_)

To those who had to stay behind forever the scale of your battle was probably large enough. (_All greet each other and shake hands without letting the conversation be interrupted_)

SALA

In that respect you are probably right, Doctor.

FELIX

Pardon me, Mr. von Sala, but does this come from you alone? Is it just a sudden notion--or something more?

SALA

I have received no direct request from anybody to speak of this. But after the conference which took place at the Foreign Department yesterday, and which I attended, I feel entitled to add a little more.--Oh, no secrets at all!--You have probably read, Felix, that a member of the General Staff as well as several artillery and engineering officers are being sent with us in what might be termed a semi-official capacity. On account of the latest news from Asia--which, however, does not seem very reliable to me, as it has come by way of England--it has been decided to secure the additional cooperation of some young line officers, and all arrangements of this kind must be left to private initiative.

FELIX

And there might be a possibility for me...?

SALA

Will you permit me to speak to Count Ronsky?

FELIX

Have you already mentioned my name to him?

SALA

I have received permission to ask whether you could be prepared to board the ship with the rest at Genoa on the twenty-sixth of November.

REUMANN

Do you mean to leave Vienna as soon as that?

SALA (_sarcastically_)

Yes. Why did you look at me like that, Doctor? That glance of yours was a little indiscreet.

REUMANN

In what respect?

SALA

It seemed to say: Yes, you can start, of course, but if you ever come back, that's more than doubtful.

REUMANN

Let me tell you, Mr. von Sala, that in the face of a venture like yours one might well express such doubts quite openly. But are you at all interested in whether you get back or not, Mr. von Sala? I don't suppose you belong to the kind of people who care to put their affairs in order.

SALA

No, indeed. Especially not as, in cases of that kind, it is generally the affairs of others which give you needless trouble. If I were to be interested at all in my own chances, it would be for much more selfish reasons.

JOHANNA

What reasons?

SALA

I don't want to be cheated out of the consciousness that certain moments are my final ones.

REUMANN

There are not many people who share your attitude in that respect.

SALA

At any rate, Doctor, you would have to tell me the absolute truth if I ever asked you for it. I hold that one has the right to drain one's own life to the last drop, with all the horrors and delights that may lie hidden at the bottom of it. Just as it is our evident duty every day to commit every good deed and every rascality lying within our capacity.... No, I won't let you rob me of my death moments by any kind of hocus-pocus. It would imply a small-minded attitude, worthy neither of yourself nor of me.--Well, Felix, the twenty-sixth of November then! That's still seven weeks off. In regard to any formalities that may be required, you need have no worry at all.

FELIX

How long a time have I got to make up my mind?

SALA

There's no reason to be precipitate. When does your furlough end?

FELIX

To-morrow night.

SALA

Of course, you are going to talk it over with your father?

FELIX

With my father.... Yes, of course.--At any rate I'll bring you the answer early to-morrow morning, Mr. von Sala.

SALA

Fine. It would please me very much. But you must bear in mind: it will be no picnic. I expect to see you soon, then. Good-by, Miss Johanna. Farewell, Doctor.

[_He goes out. A brief pause. Those left behind show signs of emotion._

JOHANNA (_rising_)

I'm going to my room. Good-by, Doctor. (_She goes out_)

REUMANN

Have you made up your mind, Felix?

FELIX

Almost.

REUMANN

You'll come across much that is new to you.

FELIX

And my own self among it, I hope--which would be about time.... (_Quoting_) "The mysteries of far-away ..." And will it really come true? Oh, the thrill of it!

REUMANN

And yet you ask time to consider?

FELIX

I hardly know why. And yet ... The thought of leaving people behind and perhaps never seeing them again--and certainly not as they were when you left them; the thought, too, that perhaps your going will hurt them ...

REUMANN

If nothing else makes you hesitate, then every moment of uncertainty is wasted. Nothing is more sure to estrange you from those dear to you than the knowledge that duty condemns you to stay near them. You must seize this unique opportunity. You must go to see Genoa, Asia Minor, Thibet, Bactria.... Oh, it must be splendid! And my best wishes will go with you. (_He gives his hand to Felix_)

FELIX

Thank you. But there will be plenty of time for wishes of that kind. Whatever may be decided, we shall meet more than once before I leave.

REUMANN

I hope so. Oh, of course!

FELIX (_looking hard at him_)

Doctor ... it seems to me there was a final farewell in that pressure of your hand.

REUMANN (_with a smile_)

Is it ever possible to tell whether you will meet again?

FELIX

Tell me, Doctor--did Mr. von Sala interpret your glance correctly?

REUMANN

That has nothing to do with your case anyhow.

FELIX

Will he not be able to go with us?

REUMANN (_with hesitation_)

That's very hard to predict.

FELIX

You have never learned to lie, Doctor.

REUMANN

As the matter stands now, I think you can bring it to a successful conclusion without further assistance.

FELIX

Mr. von Sala called on you a few days ago?

REUMANN

Yes, it was only a while ago. (_Pause_) Well, you can see for yourself that he is not well, can't you?--So God be with you, Felix.

FELIX

Will you continue to befriend this house when I am gone?

REUMANN

Why do you ask questions like that, Felix?

FELIX

You don't mean to come here again?--But why?

REUMANN

I assure you ...

FELIX

I understand ...

REUMANN (_embarrassed_)

What can there be to understand...?

FELIX

My dear Doctor ... I know now ... why you don't want to come to this house any more.... It's another case of somebody else breaking his neck.... Dear friend ...

REUMANN

Good luck to you ... Felix ...

FELIX

And if anybody should call you back ...

REUMANN

Nobody will.... But if I should be _needed_, I can always be found ...

JOHANNA (_comes into the room again_)

REUMANN

Good-by ... Good-by, Miss Johanna ...

JOHANNA

Are you going already, Doctor?

REUMANN

Yes.... Give my regards to your father. Good-by.... (_He shakes her hand_)

JOHANNA (_calmly_)

Did he tell you that Sala is doomed?

FELIX (_hesitates about what to say_)

JOHANNA

I knew it. (_With an odd gesture of deprecation as Felix wants to say something_) And you are going--with or without him?

FELIX

Yes. (_Pause_) There won't be much doing in this place after this.

JOHANNA (_remains unmoved_)

FELIX

And how are you going to live, Johanna?... I mean, how are the two of you going to live--you and father?

JOHANNA (_gives him a look as if his question surprised her_)

FELIX

He is going to be lonely. I think he would feel very grateful if you took a little more interest in him--if you went for a walk for him when there is time for it. And you, too ...

JOHANNA (_brusquely_)

How could that help me or him? What can he be to me or I to him? I was not made to assist people in days of trial. I can't help it, but that's the way I am. I seem to be stirred by a sort of hostility against people who appeal to my pity. I felt it like that all the time mother was sick.

FELIX