ROSE
[_Suddenly in extreme terror._] For the love o' ... some one's comin',
Mr. Flamm!
_FLAMM in consternation, jumps up and disappears behind a bush._
_ROSE gets up hastily, straightens her hair and her dress and looks
anxiously about her. As no one appears she takes up the hoe and
begins to weed the potato patch. After a while there approaches,
unnoticed by her, the machinist ARTHUR STRECKMANN dressed in his
Sunday coat. He is what would generally be called a handsome
man--large, broad-shouldered, his whole demeanour full of
self-importance. He has a blond beard that extends far down his
chest. His garments, from his jauntily worn huntsman's hat to his
highly polished boots, his walking coat and his embroidered
waistcoat, are faultless and serve to show, in connection with his
carriage, that STRECKMANN not only thinks very well of himself but is
scrupulously careful of his person and quite conscious of his unusual
good looks._
STRECKMANN
[_As though but now becoming conscious of ROSE'S presence, in an
affectedly well-modulated voice._] Good day, Rosie.
ROSE
[_Turns frightened._] Good day, Streckmann. [_In an uncertain voice_]
Why, where did you come from? From church?
STRECKMANN
I went away a bit early.
ROSE
[_Excitedly and reproachfully._] What for? Couldn't you put up with the
sermon?
STRECKMANN
[_Boldly._] Oh, it's such beautiful weather out. An' that's why! I left
my wife in the church too. A feller has got to be by himself once in a
while.
ROSE
I'd rather be in church.
STRECKMANN
That's where the women folks belongs.
ROSE
I shouldn't wonder if you had your little bundle o' sins. You might ha'
been prayin' a bit.
STRECKMANN
I'm on pretty good terms with the Lord. He don't keep such very
particular accounts o' my sins.
ROSE
Well, well!
STRECKMANN
No, he don't bother with me much.
ROSE
A vain, fool--that's what you is!
_STRECKMANN laughs in a deep and affected tone._
ROSE
If you was a real man, you wouldn't have to go an' beat your wife at
home.
STRECKMANN
[_With a gleam in his eyes._] That shows that I'm a real man! That shows
it! That's proper! A man's got to show you women that he's the master.
ROSE
Don't be fancyin' such foolishness.
STRECKMANN
That's so, for all you say. Right _is_ right. An' I never failed to get
what I was wantin' that way.
_ROSE laughs constrainedly._
STRECKMANN
People says you're goin' to leave Flamm's service.
ROSE
I'm not in Flamm's service at all. You see now that I'm doin' other
things.
STRECKMANN
You were helpin' at Flamm's no later'n yesterday.
ROSE
Maybe so! Maybe I was or maybe I wasn't! Look after your own affairs.
STRECKMANN
Is it true that your father has moved?
ROSE
Where to?
STRECKMANN
With August over into Lachmann's house.
ROSE
August hasn't even bought the house yet. Those people--they knows more
than I.
STRECKMANN
An' they says too that you'll be celebratin' your weddin' soon.
ROSE
They can be talkin' for all I care.
STRECKMANN
[_After a brief silence approaches her and stands before her with legs
wide apart._] Right you are! You can marry him any time. A fine girl like
you don't need to hurry so; she can have a real good time first! I
laughed right in his face when he told me. There's no one believes him.
ROSE
[_Quickly._] Who's been sayin' it?
STRECKMANN
August Keil.
ROSE
August himself? An' this is what he gets from his silly talkin'.
STRECKMANN
[_After a silence._] August he's such a peevish kind....
ROSE
I don't want to hear nothing. Leave me alone! Your quarrels don't concern
me! One o' you is no better'n another.
STRECKMANN
Well, in some things--when it comes to bein' bold.
ROSE
Oh, heavens! That boldness o' yours. We knows that. Go about an' asks the
women folks a bit. No, August isn't that kind.
STRECKMANN
[_Laughs with lascivious boastfulness._] I'm not denyin' that.
ROSE
An' you couldn't.
STRECKMANN
[_Looking at her sharply through half-closed lids._] It's not comfortable
to make a fool o' me. What I wants of a woman--I gets.
ROSE
[_Jeeringly._] Oho!
STRECKMANN
Yes, oho! What would you wager, Rosie! You been makin' eyes at me many a
time.
[_He has approached and offered to put his arms around her._
ROSE
Don't be foolish, Streckmann! Keep your hands off o' me!
STRECKMANN
If it was....
ROSE
[_Thrusts him away._] Streckmann! I've been tellin' you! I don't want to
have nothin' to do with you men. Go your own way.
STRECKMANN
What am I doin' to you?--[_After a silence with a smile that is half
malicious, half embarrassed._] You wait! You'll be comin' to me one o'
these days! I'm tellin' you: you'll be comin' to me yourself some day!
You can act as much like a saint as you wants to.--D'you see that cross?
D'you see that tree? Confound it! There's all kinds o' things! I've been
no kind o' a saint myself! But ... right under a cross ... you might be
sayin' just that ... I'm not so very partic'lar, but I'd take shame at
that. What would your father be sayin' or August? Now, just f'r instance:
this pear tree is hollow. Well an' good. There was a rifle in there.
ROSE
[_Has been listening more and more intently in the course of her work.
Deadly pale and quivering she bursts out involuntarily:_] What are you
sayin'?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'!--I'm sayin' nothin' more.--But when a feller hasn't no notion of
nothin' an' is thinkin' no ill, a wench like you acts as high an' mighty!
ROSE
[_Losing self-control and leaping in front of him in her terror._] What
is't you say?
STRECKMANN
[_Calmly returning her terrible gaze._] I said: A wench like you.
ROSE
An' what's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
That's got no special meanin'.
ROSE
[_Clenches her fists and pierces him with her eyes in an intense passion
of rage, hate, terror and consternation until in the consciousness of her
powerlessness she drops her arms and utters almost whiningly the words:_]
I'll know how to get my good right about this!
[_Holding her right arm before her weeping eyes and wiping her face
with the left, she returns, sobbing brokenly, to her work._
STRECKMANN
[_Looks after her with his old expression of malicious coldness and
determination. Gradually he is seized with a desire to laugh and finally
bursts out:_] That's the way things go! Don't worry a bit.--What do you
take me for anyhow, Rose? What's the row about? This kind o' thing don't
do no harm! Why shouldn't a person fool her neighbours? Why not? Who made
'em so stupid? Them as can do it are the finest women in the world! Of
course, a man like me knows how things are! You can believe me--I've
always known about you.
ROSE
[_Beside herself._] Streckmann! I'll do myself some harm! Do you hear? Or
else go away from our bit o' patch! Go ... I ... something awful will
happen, I tell you!
STRECKMANN
[_Sits down and claps his flat hands over his knees._] For goodness'
sake! Don't carry on so! D'you think I'll be goin' about everywhere an'
tellin' what I know an' rakin' you over the coals? How does it concern
me, I'd like to know, what your goin's on are?
ROSE
I'll go home an' hang myself on a beam! That's what Mary Schubert did
too.
STRECKMANN
That was a different thing with her! That girl had different things on
her conscience! An' I didn't have nothin' to do with her.--But if every
woman was to go an' hang herself on account o' what you've done--there
wouldn't be no more women in this world. That sort o' thing happens
wherever you look--everywhere--that's the way things is. O' course, I
have to laugh. That father o' yours, he carries himself so high! The way
he stares at a feller that's gone a bit off the narrow way. It's enough
to make you want to go an' hide your face. Well--people ought to begin at
home ...
ROSE
[_Trembling in the terror of her heart._] O dear Lord, have mercy!
STRECKMANN
Can you deny that I'm right? You people stick in piety up to the very
eyes--your father an' August Keil an' you too! A feller like me can't
compete with you there.
ROSE
[_With a new outburst of despair._] It's a lie ... a lie! You saw
nothing!
STRECKMANN
No? Saw nothing? Well, I'll be...! Then I must ha' been dreamin'. That's
what it must ha' been! If that wasn't Squire Flamm from Diessdorf! I
haven't had a drop o' anythin' to-day. Didn't he play at drivin' you by
the braids o' your hair? Didn't he throw you into the grass? [_With
uncontrollable, hard laughter._] He had a good hold on you!
ROSE
Streckmann, I'll beat your head in with my hoe!
STRECKMANN
[_Still laughing._] Listen to that! What now? You're not goin' to cut up
so rough! Why shouldn't you ha' done it? I don't blame you. First come,
first served: that's the way o' the world.
ROSE
[_Weeping and moaning in her helpless grief and yet working
convulsively._] A feller like that, presumes to ...!
STRECKMANN
[_Enraged and brutally._] It's you that presumes! 'Tisn't me that does!
Not that I'd mind presumin' a good deal. If Flamm's good enough, it's
certain that I am!
ROSE
[_Sobbing and crying out in her despair._] I've been a decent girl all my
life long! Let anybody come an' say somethin' against me if he can! I
took care o' three little brothers an' sisters! Three o'clock in the
mornin' I've gotten up, an' not so much as taken a drop o' milk! An'
people knows that! Every child knows it!
STRECKMANN
Well, you needn't make such a noise about it! The bells is ringin' and
the people is comin' from church. You might be a bit sociable with a
feller. You people are just burstin' with pride. Maybe it's true ...
things look as if it was. I'm not sayin' but what you're a good worker
an' a good saver. But otherwise you're no better'n other folks.
ROSE
[_Gazing into the distance; in extreme fear._] Isn't that August that's
comin' there?
STRECKMANN
[_Looks in the same direction toward the village. Contemptuously_:]
Where? Oh, yes, that's him! There they both are! They're just walkin'
around the parson's garden. Well, what about it? You think I ought to be
gettin' away? I'm not afeard o' them psalm-singin' donkeys.
ROSE
[_In quivering fear._] Streckmann, I've saved up twelve crowns ...
STRECKMANN
Rosie, you know you've saved more than that.
ROSE
All right, I'll give you all my bit o' savin's! I don't care for the
money ... I'll bring it to you, to the last farthing. Streckmann, only
have pity ...
[_She seeks to grasp his hands beseechingly, but he draws them away._
STRECKMANN
I takes no money.
ROSE
Streckmann! For the sake o' all good things in the world ...
STRECKMANN
Well now, I can't see why you don't act sensible.
ROSE
If one person in the village finds that out....
STRECKMANN
It depends on you! Nobody needn't know. All you need to do is not to
force it on 'em ... [_With sudden passion._] What's at the bottom of
it?--I'm crazy about you ...
ROSE
Where's the woman or girl you're not crazy about!
STRECKMANN
Maybe it's so. I can't change things. A man like me who has to go the
round o' all the estates in the country with his threshin' machine--he
don't have worry because he's not talked about. I know best how it is
with me. Before ever Flamm came--I'm not mentionin' August--I'd thrown an
eye on you. An' nobody knows what it's cost me. [_With iron
stubbornness._] But the devil fetch me now! Come what may, Rosie! There's
no more use tryin' to joke with me! I happened to come upon somethin'
to-day!
ROSE
An' what is it?
STRECKMANN
You'll see soon enough.
_MARTHEL, ROSE'S younger sister, comes skipping along the field-path.
She is neatly dressed in her Sunday garments and is still
pronouncedly child-like._
MARTHEL
[_Calls out._] Rose, is that you? What are you doin' here?
ROSE
I've got to finish hoein' the patch. Why didn't you stop to finish it o'
Saturday?
MARTHEL
Oh, dearie me, Rosie, if father sees you!
STRECKMANN
If there's a bit o' profit in it, he won't do nothing very bad. You let
old Bernd alone for that!
MARTHEL
Who is that, Rosie?
ROSE
Oh, don't ask me!
_Old BERND and AUGUST KEIL are approaching along the field-path from
the village. The old, white-haired man, as well as the other who is
about thirty-five years old, is dressed in his Sunday coat and each
carries a hymn book. Old BERND has a white beard; his voice has a
certain softness as though he had had and been cured of a severe
pulmonary affection. One might imagine him to be a dignified retired
family coachman. AUGUST KEIL, who is a bookbinder, has a pale face,
thin, dark moustache and pointed beard. His hair is growing notably
thin and he suffers from occasional nervous twitching. He is lean,
narrow-chested; his whole appearance betrays the man of sedentary
employment._
BERND
Isn't that Rosie?
AUGUST
Yes, father Bernd.
BERND
You can't nowise make the girl stop that. When the fit takes her, she's
got to go an' toil--if it's weekday or holiday. [_He is quite near her by
this time._] Is there not time enough o' weekdays?
AUGUST
You do too much, Rosie! There's no need o' that!
BERND
If our good pastor saw that, it'd hurt him to the very soul. He wouldn't
trust his own eyes.
AUGUST
An' he's been askin' for you again.
STRECKMANN
[_Suggestively._] They say, too, as he wants her to be his housekeeper.
BERND
[_Noticing him for the first time._] Why, that's Streckmann!
STRECKMANN
Yes, here I am, life-size. That girl, she's as busy as an ant or a bee!
She'll be workin' if her sides crack. She's got no time to be sleepin' in
the church.
BERND
It's little sleepin' we does there, I tell you. You might better say that
them as are out here do the sleepin' an' don't want no awakenin'. The
Bridegroom is at hand ...
STRECKMANN
An' that's certainly true! But the bride, meantime, runs off!
AUGUST
You're in a merry mood this day.
STRECKMANN
Yes, that I am. I could hug a curbstone ... or the handle o' your
collection bag. I do feel most uncommonly jolly. I could laugh myself
sick.
BERND
[_To ROSE._] Put up your things an' we'll go home! Not that way! That way
I'm not goin' home with you! Put your hoe in the hollow of the tree!
Carryin' that o' Sunday would give offence.
AUGUST
There's them that even gads about with guns.
STRECKMANN
An' devils that take no shame carryin' a whisky-bottle.
[_He pulls his bottle out of his pocket._
AUGUST
Each man does those things on his own responsibility.
STRECKMANN
True. An' at his own expense! Come, take courage an' have a drink with me
for once.
[_He holds out the bottle to AUGUST who pays no attention to him._
BERND
You know well enough that August drinks no spirits!--Whereabouts is your
threshin' machine now?
STRECKMANN
But you, father Bernd; you can't go an' refuse to take a drop with me!
You've been a distiller yourself! My machine is on the great estate down
below.
BERND
[_Takes the bottle hesitatingly._] Just because it's you, Streckmann,
otherwise I wouldn't be touchin' it. When I was manager of the estate, I
had to do a good many things! But I never liked to distil the drink an' I
didn't touch it in them days at all.
STRECKMANN
[_To AUGUST who has placed a spade in the hollow of the cherry tree._]
You just look at that tree! Piff, paff! All you got to do is to take your
aim and let it fly.
BERND
There's people that goes hunting o' Sundays.
STRECKMANN
Squire Flamm.
BERND
Just so. We ha' met him. 'Tis bad. I'm sorry for them folks.
_STRECKMANN throws cock-chafers at ROSE._
ROSE
[_Trembling._] Streckmann!
BERND
What's wrong?
AUGUST
What's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'! We've got a little private quarrel!
AUGUST
You can have your little quarrels. But it'd be better if you had 'em
without her.
STRECKMANN
[_With malicious hostility._] You take care, August! Watch out!
BERND
Peace! Don't be quarrelsome! In God's name!
STRECKMANN
The dam' carrion always spits at me!
AUGUST
Carrion is a dead beast ...!
STRECKMANN
August, let's be at peace. Father Bernd is right; people ought to like
each other! An' it isn't Christian the way you act sour like! Come on
now! Have a drink! You're not good-lookin', your worst enemy'd have to
admit that, but you're fine when it comes to readin' an' writin' an'
you've got your affairs pretty well arranged! Well, then, here's to your
weddin'--an early one an' a merry one!
_BERND takes the bottle and drinks since AUGUST remains quite
unresponsive._
STRECKMANN
I take that real kind o' you, father Bernd.
BERND
When it comes to drinkin' to a happy weddin', I makes an exception!
STRECKMANN
Exactly! That's proper! That's right!--It isn't as if I was a horse-boy
to-day as in the old times on the estate when you had the whip hand o'
me. I've gotten to be a reputable kind o' feller. Anybody that's got a
head on his shoulders makes his way.
BERND
God bestows his favours on them he wants to.--[_To AUGUST._] Drink to a
happy weddin'.
AUGUST
[_Takes the bottle._] May God grant it! We don't have to drink to it.
STRECKMANN
[_Slapping his thigh._] An' may he give plenty o' little Augusts, so that
the grandfather can be glad. An' the oldest of 'em all must grow up to be
a squire!--But now you ought to let Rosie have a drink too.
BERND
You're weepin', Rosie. What's troublin' you?
MARTHEL
The tears keep runnin' out o' her eyes all the time.
AUGUST
[_To ROSE._] Drink a drop, so's to let him have his will.
_ROSE takes the bottle, overcoming her repugnance by a violent
effort._
STRECKMANN
Right down with it now! Let's be jolly!
_ROSE drinks trembling and hands back the bottle to AUGUST with
undisguised disgust._
BERND
[_Softly in his paternal pride to STRECKMANN._] There's a girl for you!
He'd better keep a good hold o' her.
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE SECOND ACT
_The large living room in FLAMM'S house. The large, low room which is
on a level with the ground has a door at the right leading to the
outer hall. A second door in the rear hall leads into a smaller
chamber, filled with hunting implements, etc., which FLAMM calls his
den. When this door is open, garments and rifles and stuffed bird
heads are to be seen covering the walls of the smaller room. In it
stands, also, the chest of drawers in which FLAMM stores the
documents kept by him as magistrate. The large room with its three
windows on the left side, its dark beams and its furnishings creates
an impression of home-likeness and comfort. In the left corner stands
a large sofa covered with material of an old-fashioned, flowery
pattern. Before it stands an extension table of oak. Above the door
of the den hangs a glass case containing a group of stuffed
partridges. Immediately to the right of this door a key-rack with
keys. Not far from this stands a bookcase with glass doors which is
filled with books. Upon this bookcase stands a stuffed owl and next
to it hangs a cuckoo clock. A great tile oven of dappled blue
occupies the right corner of the room. In all the three windows of
the left wall are potted plants in bloom. The window beside the table
is open as well as the one farther forward. In front of the latter
MRS. FLAMM is sitting in an invalid's chair. All the windows have
mull curtains. Not far from the window nearest to the spectator there
is an old chest of drawers covered by a lace scarf upon which are to
be seen glasses, bric-a-brac and family mementos of various kinds. On
the wall above hang family photographs. Between the oven and the door
that leads to the outer hall stands an old-fashioned grand piano and
an embroidered piano-stool. The keyboard of the instrument is turned
toward the tile oven. Above the piano there are glass cases
containing a collection of butterflies. In the foreground, to the
right, a brightly polished roller-top desk of oak with a simple
chair. Several such chairs are set against the mall near the desk.
Between the windows an old armchair covered with brown leather. Above
the table a large brass lamp of English manufacture is suspended.
Above the desk hangs the large photograph of a handsome little boy of
five. The picture is in a simple wooden frame wreathed in fresh field
flowers. On top of the desk a large globe of glass covers a dish of
forget-me-nots. It is eleven o'clock in the forenoon on a magnificent
day of late spring._
_MRS. FLAMM is an attractive, matronly woman of forty. She wears a
smooth, black alpaca dress with a bodice of old-fashioned cut, a
small cap of white lace on her head, a lace collar and soft lace
cuffs which all but cover her emaciated, sensitive hands. A book and
a handkerchief of delicate material lie in her lap. MRS. FLAMM'S
features are not without magnanimity and impressiveness. Her eyes are
light blue and piercing, her forehead high, her temples broad. Her
hair, already gray and thin is plainly parted in the middle. From
time to time she strokes it gently with her finger tips. The
expression of her face betrays kindliness and seriousness without
severity. About her eyes, her nose and her mouth there is a flicker
of archness.
MRS. FLAMM
[_Looks thoughtfully out into the open, sighs, becomes absorbed in her
book for a moment, then listens and closes her book after inserting a
bookmark. Finally she turns toward the door and speaks in a slightly
raised, sympathetic voice._] Whoever is out there ... come in! [_A tap is
heard, the door to the hall is slightly opened and the head of old BERND
is seen._] Well, who is it? Ah, that's father Bernd, our deacon and
trustee. Come right in! I'm not going to bite you.
BERND
We was wantin' to speak to the squire.
[_He enters, followed by AUGUST KEIL. Both are once more in their
best clothes._
MRS. FLAMM
Well, well, you do look solemn.
BERND
Good mornin', Missis.
MRS. FLAMM
Good day to you, father Bernd.--My husband was in his den there a minute
ago. [_Referring to AUGUST._] And there is your future son-in-law too.
BERND
Yes, by God's help, Mrs. Flamm.
MRS. FLAMM
Well, then, do take a seat. I suppose you want to make official
announcement of the marriage? It's to be at last.
BERND
Yes, thanks be to God; everythin' is in readiness now.
MRS. FLAMM
I'm glad o' that. This waiting leads to very little. If something is to
be, then 'tis better to have it done! So the girl has made up her mind to
it at last?
BERND
Yes. An' it's like takin' a stone off my heart. She has kept us all
hangin' about this long time. Now she wants to hurry of her own free
will. She'd rather have the weddin' to-day than to-morrow.
MRS. FLAMM
I'm very glad of that, Mr. Keil! Very glad, indeed, Bernd. Christie! I
think my husband will be here presently! So this matter has been adjusted
at last! Well, father Bernd, I think you ought to feel that you're lucky!
You must be well content.
BERND
An' so I am! You're right indeed, Mrs. Flamm! Day before yesterday we
talked it all over. An' God has given us an especial blessin' too. For
August went to see the lady of Gnadau an' she was so extraordinar'
kind-hearted as to loan him a thousand crowns. An' with that he can go
an' buy the Lachmann house now.
MRS. FLAMM
Is that true? Is that possible? Now there you see again how life is,
father Bernd. When your master let you go without a bit o' pension or
anything for your old age, you were quite desperate and hopeless. An'
'twas an unfeeling thing to do! But now God has turned everything to
good.
BERND
So it is! But men has too little faith!
MRS. FLAMM
Well, then! Now you're well off! In the first place the house is right
opposite the church, an' then it has a good bit o' land that goes with
it! And Rose, well, I'm sure she knows how to manage. Yes, you can really
be satisfied.
BERND
The blessin's that a lady like that can spread! Next to God ... it's to
her we owe the most. If I'd been in her service an' had ruined my health
as I did workin' for my master, I wouldn't ha' had to complain.
MRS. FLAMM
You have nothing more to complain of now, Bernd.
BERND
My goodness, no! In one way not!
MRS. FLAMM
You can't count on gratitude in this world. My father was chief forester
for forty years an' when he died my mother knew want for all that.--You
have an excellent son-in-law. You can live in a pleasant house and you'll
even have your own land to work on. And that everything goes from better
to better--well, you can let your children see to that.
BERND
An' that's what I hope for too. No, I haven't no doubt o' that at all. A
man who has worked himself up in the world that way by carryin' tracts
...
MRS. FLAMM
Weren't you thinking once of being a missionary?
AUGUST
Unfortunately my health was too bad for that.
BERND
... An' learned readin' an' writin' an' his trade too the while, an' is
so upright an' Christian--well, I feel that I can lay down my head in
peace if it is to lay it down to my last sleep.
MRS. FLAMM