GUSTAV. What more did you say?
ADOLPH. Nothing at all.
GUSTAV. Yes, you did, but you have forgotten it--perhaps because you
don't dare remember it. You have put it away in a secret drawer, but you
have got to open it now!
ADOLPH. I can't remember!
GUSTAV. But I know. This is what you said: "You ought to be ashamed of
flirting when you are too old to have any more lovers!"
ADOLPH. Did I say that? I must have said it!--But how can you know that
I did?
GUSTAV. I heard her tell the story on board the boat as I came here.
ADOLPH. To whom?
GUSTAV. To four young men who formed her company. She is already
developing a taste for chaste young men, just like--
ADOLPH. But there is nothing wrong in that?
GUSTAV. No more than in playing brother and sister when you are papa and
mamma.
ADOLPH. So you have seen her then?
GUSTAV. Yes, I have. But you have never seen her when you didn't--I
mean, when you were not present. And there's the reason, you see, why a
husband can never really know his wife. Have you a portrait of her?
(Adolph takes a photograph from his pocketbook. There is a look of
aroused curiosity on his face.)
GUSTAV. You were not present when this was taken?
ADOLPH. No.
GUSTAV. Look at it. Does it bear much resemblance to the portrait
you painted of her? Hardly any! The features are the same, but the
expression is quite different. But you don't see this, because your own
picture of her creeps in between your eyes and this one. Look at it now
as a painter, without giving a thought to the original. What does
it represent? Nothing, so far as I can see, but an affected coquette
inviting somebody to come and play with her. Do you notice this cynical
line around the mouth which you are never allowed to see? Can you see
that her eyes are seeking out some man who is not you? Do you observe
that her dress is cut low at the neck, that her hair is done up in a
different way, that her sleeve has managed to slip back from her arm?
Can you see?
ADOLPH. Yes--now I see.
GUSTAV. Look out, my boy!
ADOLPH. For what?
GUSTAV. For her revenge! Bear in mind that when you said she could not
attract a man, you struck at what to her is most sacred--the one
thing above all others. If you had told her that she wrote nothing
but nonsense, she would have laughed at your poor taste. But as it
is--believe me, it will not be her fault if her desire for revenge has
not already been satisfied.
ADOLPH. I must know if it is so!
GUSTAV. Find out!
ADOLPH. Find out?
GUSTAV. Watch--I'll assist you, if you want me to.
ADOLPH. As I am to die anyhow--it may as well come first as last! What
am I to do?
GUSTAV. First of all a piece of information: has your wife any
vulnerable point?
ADOLPH. Hardly! I think she must have nine lives, like a cat.
GUSTAV. There--that was the boat whistling at the landing--now she'll
soon be here.
ADOLPH. Then I must go down and meet her.
GUSTAV. No, you are to stay here. You have to be impolite. If her
conscience is clear, you'll catch it until your ears tingle. If she is
guilty, she'll come up and pet you.
ADOLPH. Are you so sure of that?
GUSTAV. Not quite, because a rabbit will sometimes turn and run in
loops, but I'll follow. My room is nest to this. [He points to the door
on the right] There I shall take up my position and watch you while you
are playing the game in here. But when you are done, we'll change parts:
I'll enter the cage and do tricks with the snake while you stick to the
key-hole. Then we meet in the park to compare notes. But keep your back
stiff. And if you feel yourself weakening, knock twice on the floor with
a chair.
ADOLPH. All right!--But don't go away. I must be sure that you are in
the next room.
GUSTAV. You can be quite sure of that. But don't get scared afterward,
when you watch me dissecting a human soul and laying out its various
parts on the table. They say it is rather hard on a beginner, but
once you have seen it done, you never want to miss it.--And be sure to
remember one thing: not a word about having met me, or having made any
new acquaintance whatever while she was away. Not one word! And I'll
discover her weak point by myself. Hush, she has arrived--she is in her
room now. She's humming to herself. That means she is in a rage!--Now,
straight in the back, please! And sit down on that chair over there, so
that she has to sit here--then I can watch both of you at the same time.
ADOLPH. It's only fifteen minutes to dinner--and no new guests have
arrived--for I haven't heard the bell ring. That means we shall be by
ourselves--worse luck!
GUSTAV. Are you weak?
ADOLPH. I am nothing at all!--Yes, I am afraid of what is now coming!
But I cannot keep it from coming! The stone has been set rolling--and
it was not the first drop of water that started it--nor wad it the last
one--but all of them together.
GUSTAV. Let it roll then--for peace will come in no other way. Good-bye
for a while now! [Goes out]
(ADOLPH nods back at him. Until then he has been standing with the
photograph in his hand. Now he tears it up and flings the pieces under
the table. Then he sits down on a chair, pulls nervously at his tie,
runs his fingers through his hair, crumples his coat lapel, and so on.)
TEKLA. [Enters, goes straight up to him and gives him a kiss; her manner
is friendly, frank, happy, and engaging] Hello, little brother! How is
he getting on?
ADOLPH. [Almost won over; speaking reluctantly and as if in jest] What
mischief have you been up to now that makes you come and kiss me?
TEKLA. I'll tell you: I've spent an awful lot of money.
ADOLPH. You have had a good time then?
TEKLA. Very! But not exactly at that creche meeting. That was plain
piffle, to tell the truth.--But what has little brother found to divert
himself with while his Pussy was away?
(Her eyes wander around the room as if she were looking for somebody or
sniffing something.)
ADOLPH. I've simply been bored.
TEKLA. And no company at all?
ADOLPH. Quite by myself.
TEKLA. [Watching him; she sits down on the sofa] Who has been sitting
here? ADOLPH. Over there? Nobody.
TEKLA. That's funny! The seat is still warm, and there is a hollow
here that looks as if it had been made by an elbow. Have you had lady
callers?
ADOLPH. I? You don't believe it, do you?
TEKLA. But you blush. I think little brother is not telling the truth.
Come and tell Pussy now what he has on his conscience.
(Draws him toward herself so that he sinks down with his head resting in
her lap.)
ADOLPH. You're a little devil--do you know that?
TEKLA. No, I don't know anything at all about myself.
ADOLPH. You never think about yourself, do you?
TEKLA. [Sniffing and taking notes] I think of nothing but myself--I am
a dreadful egoist. But what has made you turn so philosophical all at
once?
ADOLPH. Put your hand on my forehead.
TEKLA. [Prattling as if to a baby] Has he got ants in his head again?
Does he want me to take them away, does he? [Kisses him on the forehead]
There now! Is it all right now?