_Same setting. Above the centre table a lighted hanging-lamp. Another
lamp on table, L. The glass doors to garden are open. Full moonshine
falls partly into the room. At rise of curtain, at table, L., are_
Brauer, Mrs. Brauer _and_ Pastor. _At centre table_, Gertrude _and_
George. _It is evening_.
Brauer.
Now, then, tell Marie to bring the bowl!
Pastor.
Ah! you are going to have a bowl?
Mrs. Brauer.
Why, of course, Pastor. This is St. John's Eve. The villagers will set
off tar-barrels and bonfires, and we will celebrate it with a bowl.
Brauer.
[_Mischievously_.] But perhaps this festival is too heathenish for the
clergy----
Pastor.
Bless you, that all depends. If you have not the clergy's sanction,
then it is wicked and heathenish----
Brauer.
But if they are invited, then it is Christianly and good? Ha, ha----!
Pastor.
Well, I did not say that. You had better apply to the consistory, they
are better able to decide that point.
Brauer.
Ah, Pastor, you are a diplomat. Well, what are you two doing over
there? You are not saying a word.
Gertrude.
George is too lazy. He is drawing little men, and I am writing.
Brauer.
In his place I think I would prefer to draw little women. Eh, Pastor?
George.
Just as you say, uncle!
Brauer.
[_Aside_.] What the devil is the matter with him to-day? Come,
children, be jolly, this is St. John's Eve! Ah, here is the punch! Now,
then, Gertrude, lend a hand!
[Marie _has entered with the bowl and glasses_.]
Gertrude.
Yes, papa.
Brauer.
[_Drinks_.] Excellent, Marie! Superb! I tell you, Pastor, whoever gets
her for a wife will be a lucky man indeed.
Gertrude.
[_With a glass to_ George, _who has gone back and is looking out_.]
Don't you want some, George?
George.
[_Caressing her, with a shy glance at_ Marie.] Why, yes, little one,
thank you! Look, how bright and beautiful the moon shines to-night!
Everything wrapped as in silvery spider web! How beautiful!
Marie.
[_Oppressed_.] They will soon set off the bonfires.
Brauer.
See, see--at last you have spoken; I feared you had lost your tongue.
Come here, my child. Get your glasses, all of you---- Your health! The
Pastor shall give us a toast; yes, yes, Pastor!--a genuine pagan toast,
well suited to this night! Now, tell me, my child, are you obliged to
go to the city again to-night?
Marie.
Yes, papa dear.
Brauer.
But if I will not allow it?
Marie.
You gave your permission quite two weeks ago, papa dear!
Brauer.
But not to go in the middle of the night!
Marie.
I must go, papa. The men are to be there at seven in the morning, and
if I am not there to give instructions the house will never be finished
in time.
Mrs. Brauer.
Never mind, Henry, there is no help for it.
Brauer.
But look at her!
Marie.