office as magistrate? He'll hardly marry your girl.
BERND
They're in a hurry....
MRS. FLAMM
I know, I know. Rose is helpin' along too. She was in to see me this
morning. If you wouldn't mind, going to look ... right behind the yard
... Christie!... There he is....
FLAMM
[_Not yet visible, calls:_] Presently! In a moment!
MRS. FLAMM
It's official business.
_FLAMM, without coat or waistcoat, appears in the door of his den.
His gleaming white shirt is open in front. He is busy cleaning the
barrels of a shotgun._
FLAMM
Here I am. The machinist Streckmann was here just now. I'd like to have
my threshing done at once, but the machine is down there on the estate
and they're far from being done ... Dear me! Surely that's father Bernd.
BERND
Yes, Mr. Flamm, we have come here. We were wantin' to....
FLAMM
One thing after another! Patience! [_He examines the barrels of the gun
carefully._] If you have official business for the magistrate, you'd
better wait a little while. Steckel will be my successor and he will take
these matters a deal more solemnly.
MRS. FLAMM
[_Holding her crocheting needle to her chin and observing her husband
attentively._] Christie, what silly stuff are you talking?
AUGUST
[_Who, pale from the first, has grown paler at the mention of
STRECKMANN'S name, now arises solemnly and excitedly._] Your honour, we
want to announce a marriage.--I am ready, by God's help, to enter into
the holy state of matrimony.
FLAMM
[_Stops looking at the gun. Lightly._] Is it possible? And are you in
such a hurry about it?
MRS. FLAMM
[_Banteringly._] How does that concern you, Christie? Dear me, let the
good folks marry in peace! You're a reg'lar preacher, you are! If that
man had his will, father Bernd, there wouldn't be hardly anything but
single men and women.
FLAMM
Well, marriage is a risky business,--You're the bookbinder August Keil.
AUGUST
At your service.
FLAMM
You live over in Wandriss? And you've bought the Lachmann house?
AUGUST
Exactly.
FLAMM
And you want to open a book-shop?
AUGUST
A book and stationery shop. Yes. Probably,
BERND
He thinks o' sellin' mostly devotional books.
FLAMM
There's some land that belongs to the Lachmann house, isn't there? It
must be there by the big pear tree?
BERND _and_ AUGUST
[_At the same time._] Yes.
FLAMM
Why then our properties adjoin! [_He lays down the barrels of the gun,
searches in his pockets for a bunch of keys and then calls out through
the door:_] Minna! Come and wheel your mistress out!
[_Resignedly though unable to control his disquiet, he sits down at
the desk._
MRS. FLAMM
A very chivalrous man! But he's in the right! I'm in the way just now!
[_To the neat maid who has come in and stepped behind her._] Come, my
girl, wheel me into the den. An' you might well pin up your hair more
smoothly.
_MRS. FLAMM and the MAID disappear in the den._
FLAMM
I'm really sorry for the Lachmanns. [_To KEIL._] You invested your
savings in a mortgage on that property, didn't you? [_AUGUST coughs
excitedly and in embarrassment._] Well, that's all the same in the end!
Whoever owns that property, though, has cause to congratulate
himself.--So you want to marry? Well, all that's wanting is the lady! How
is that? Is the lady stubborn?
AUGUST
[_Very much wrought up and quite determined._] We're at one entirely, so
far as I know.
BERND
I'll go an' fetch her, Mr. Flamm.
[_Exit rapidly._
FLAMM
[_Who has opened the desk in obvious absentmindedness, observes BERND'S
departure too late._] Nonsense, there's no such terrible hurry. [_For a
few moments he gazes in some consternation at the door through which
BERND has disappeared. Then he shrugs his shoulders._] Do as you please!
Exactly as you please! I can light a pipe in the meanwhile. [_He gets up,
takes a tobacco pouch from the bookcase and a pipe from a rack on the
wall, fills the pipe and lights it. To AUGUST._] Do you smoke?
AUGUST
No.
FLAMM
Nor take snuff?
AUGUST
No.
FLAMM
And you drink no whisky, no beer, no wine?
AUGUST
Nothing except the wine in the sacrament.
FLAMM
Iron principles, I must say! Quite exemplary!--Come in! I thought someone
was knocking. Or wasn't there? Those confounded ...! You practise a bit
of quackery now and then as a diversion, don't you? [_AUGUST shakes his
head._] I thought you healed by prayer? Seems to me I heard something
like that.
AUGUST
That would be somethin' very different from quackery.
FLAMM
In what respect?
AUGUST
Faith can move mountains. And whatever is asked in the right spirit ...
there the Father is still almighty to-day.
FLAMM
Come in! Surely someone's been knocking again! Come in! Come in! Confound
it all! [_Old BERND, very pale himself, urges ROSE to enter. She is pale
and resists him. She and FLAMM look steadfastly into each other's eyes
for a moment. Thereupon FLAMM continues:_] Very well! Just wait one
little minute.
[_He goes into the den as though to search for something._
_The following colloquy of BERND, ROSE and AUGUST is carried on in
eager whispers._
BERND
What was Streckmann sayin' to you?
ROSE
Who? But, father ...
BERND
Streckmann was out there, talkin' an' talkin' to her!
ROSE
Well, what should he ha' been talkin' to me about?
BERND
That's what I'm askin' you.
ROSE
An' I know about nothin'.
AUGUST
You ought to have no dealin's with such a scamp!
ROSE
Can I help it if he talks to me?
BERND
You see, you must confess that he's been talkin' to you!
ROSE
An' if he has! I didn't listen to him--
BERND
I'll have to be givin' notice about that feller Streckmann. I'll have to
get the help o' the law against him. We was walkin' past there a while
ago where they're workin' with that threshin' machine. You hear? They're
beginnin' again! [_From afar the humming and rumbling of the machine is
heard._] An' then he called out somethin' after us. I couldn't just
rightly hear what it was.
AUGUST
If a girl talks as much as two words to that man, her good repute is
almost ruined.
ROSE
Well, go an' get yourself a better girl.
FLAMM
[_Re-enters. He has put on a collar and a hunting coat. His demeanour is
firm and dignified._]
Good morning, everybody. Now what can I do for you? When is this wedding
to take place? What's the trouble? You don't seem to be in agreement.
Well, won't you please say something? Well, my good people, it doesn't
look as though you were really ready. Suppose you take my advice: go home
and think it all over once more. And when you've quite made up your minds
come in again.
AUGUST
[_Dictatorially._] The matter'll be adjusted now.
FLAMM
I have surely nothing against it, Keil. [_About to make the necessary
notes with a pencil._] When is the ceremony to take place?
BERND
As soon as ever it's possible, we was thinkin'.
AUGUST
Yes; in four or five weeks if it could be done.
FLAMM
In four or five weeks? So soon as that?
AUGUST
Yes, Mr. Flamm.
FLAMM
Then I must beg you to name the exact date. It's very difficult to make
such arrangements so rapidly and....
ROSE
[_Involuntarily from the depth of her painful excitement._] An' it might
well wait a bit longer'n that.
FLAMM
What do you mean, Rosie? I should say Miss Bernd. We've known, each other
all our lives. But one shouldn't--be so familiar with a girl who's
betrothed. However, it seems, then, that you are not in agreement....
AUGUST
[_Who has started violently at ROSE'S words, has stared at her
uninterruptedly since. Now he fights down his emotion and says with
unnatural calm:_] Very well then. Good-bye and good luck to you, father
Bernd.
BERND
Stay right where you are, August, I tell you! [_To ROSE._] An' as for
you! I'm tellin' you now that you must make up your mind one way or
t'other! D'you understand? Long enough has I had patience with you, an'
August too, more than was need. We went an' took your foolishness upon
ourselves. We was thinkin': Patience, patience! The Almighty will bring
the lass to her senses. But things gets worse an' worse with you. Three
days ago you give me your sacred promise an' plighted your troth to
August, an' you yourself was hard put to it to wait. An' to-day comes an'
you want to be shirkin'. What's the meanin' o' that? What do you think o'
yourself? D'you think you can dare anything because you've been a good,
decent lass? Because you've had self-respect an' been industrious, an' no
man can say evil o' you? Is that the reason? Ah, you're not the only one
o' that kind. That's no more'n our dooty! An' we're not permitted to
think anything of ourselves on that account! There's others as don't go
gaddin' to the dance! There's others as has taken care o' her brothers
an' sisters an' kept house for an old father! They're not all slovens an'
gadabouts even though you're a pious, decent lass! An' how would things
ha' been if you had been different? The street would ha' been your home!
No girl like that could be a daughter o' mine! This man here, August, he
has no need o' you! A man like that has but to stretch out his hand ...
an' he can have any girl he wants, even if her people are of the best. He
might be havin' a very different wife from yourself! Truly, a man's
patience can't bear everything! It'll snap sometime! Pride, arrogance,
recklessness--that's what it is in you! Either you keep your promise,
or....
FLAMM
Now, now, father Bernd! You must be gentle!
BERND
Your honour, you don't know how it's been! A girl that leads on and makes
a fool of an honest man that way--she can't be no daughter o' mine!
AUGUST
[_Nearly weeping._] What have you got to reproach me with, Rose? Why are
you so hard toward me? 'Tis true, I never had no confidence in my good
fortune? An' why should I have? I'm made for misfortune! An' that's what
I've always told you, father Bernd, in spite of it all I've taken thought
an' I've worked an' God has given his blessin' so that I've not fallen by
the wayside. But I can weep; these things aren't for me! That would ha'
been too much of a blessin'. I grew up in an orphan house! I never knew
what it was to have a home! I had no brother an' no sister ... well, a
man can still hold fast to his Saviour.--It may be I'm not much to look
at, lass! But I asked you an' you said yes. 'Tis the inner man that
counts! God looks upon the heart ... You'll be bitter sorry some day!
[_He tries to go but BERND holds him back._
BERND
Once more! Here you stay, August!--D'you understand, Rosie! I means these
words: This man here ... or ... no, I can't permit that! That man here
was my friend an' support long before he asked you to be his wife. When I
was down with the sickness an' couldn't earn nothin', an' no one was good
to us--he shared his bit o' bread with us! [_AUGUST, unable to master his
emotion any longer, takes his hat and goes out._] He was like an angel o'
the Lord to us!--August!
ROSE
I'm willin'. Can't you give me a little time?
BERND
He's given you three years! The good pastor has tried to persuade you ...
Now August is tired out! Who's to blame him for't? Everything must end
somewhere! He's in the right! But now you can look after yourself an' see
what becomes o' you ... I can't take no more pride in such a daughter.
[_Exit._
FLAMM Well, well, well, well! This is the damnedest ...!
_ROSE has become alternately red and deathly pale. It is clear that
she is struggling with emotions so violent that she can scarcely hold
them in check. After BERND has gone out the girl seems to fall into a
state of desperate numbness._
FLAMM
[_Closing the public registration book and finding courage to look at
ROSE._] Rose! Wake up! What's the matter with you? Surely you're not
going to worry about all that ranting? [_A fever seems to shake her and
her great eyes are full of tears._] Rose! Be sensible! What's the ...?
ROSE
I know what I want--and--maybe--I'll be able to put it through! An'--if
not--it don't matter--neither!
FLAMM
[_Walks up and down excitedly, stopping to listen at the door._]
Naturally. And why not? [_Apparently absorbed in the key-rack from which
he takes several keys, whispers in feverish haste._] Rose! Listen! Rose,
do you hear me? We must meet behind the outbuildings! I must talk it all
over with you once more. Ssh! Mother's in there in the den. It's not
possible here!
ROSE
[_Uttering her words with difficulty but with an iron energy._] Never an'
never, Mr. Flamm!
FLAMM
I suppose you want to drive us all mad? The devil has gotten into you!
I've been running around after you for the better part of a month, trying
to say a sensible word to you and you avoid me as if I were a leper!
What's the result? Things of this kind!
ROSE
[_As before._] An' if everythin' gets ten times worse'n it is--_no_! You
can all beat down on me; I don't deserve no better! Go on an' wipe your
boots on me, but ...
FLAMM
[_Who is standing by the table, turns suddenly with indignant
astonishment toward ROSE. He strives to master his rage. Suddenly however
he brings down his fist on the table top with resounding violence._] I
will be damned to all ...!
ROSE
For heaven's sake ...
_MRS. FLAMM, wheeled by a maid servant, appears at the door of the
den._
MRS. FLAMM
What is the trouble, Christopher?
_FLAMM who has turned deadly pale, pulls himself together
energetically, takes his hat and cane from the wall and goes out
through the door at the right._
MRS. FLAMM
[_Looks at her husband in consternation, shakes her head at his abrupt
departure and then turns questioningly to ROSE._] What has happened?
What's the matter with him?
ROSE
[_Overwhelmed by her profound wretchedness._] Oh, dear Mrs. Flamm, I'm
that unhappy!
[_She sinks down before MRS. FLAMM and buries her head in the
latter's lap._
MRS. FLAMM
Now do tell me!... For pity's sake, lass ... what's come over you! What
is it? You're like a different creature. I can't never understand that!
[_To the maid who has wheeled her in._] I don't need you now; you can
come back later! Get everything ready in the kitchen. [_The maid leaves
the room._] Now then! What is the trouble? What has happened? Tell me
everything! It'll ease you! What? What is't you say? Don't you want to
marry that pasty August? Or maybe you're carryin' some other fellow
around in your thoughts? Dear me! one o' them is about as good as
another, an' no man is worth a great deal.
ROSE
[_Controlling herself and rising._] I know what I wants and that's the
end o't!
MRS. FLAMM
Is that true? You see, I was afraid you didn't know! Sometimes a woman
don't know, especially a young one like you. An' then, maybe, an older
woman can help a bit. But if you know what you want,'tis well! You'll be
findin' your own way out o' your trouble. [_Putting on her spectacles,
with a keen glance._] Rosie, are you ill maybe?
ROSE
[_Frightened and confused._] Ill? How ...?
MRS. FLAMM
Why, don't people get ill? You used to be so different formerly.
ROSE
But I'm not ill!
MRS. FLAMM
I'm not sayin' it. I just ask. I ask because I want to know! But we must
understand each other rightly! 'Tis true! Don't let's talk round about
the thing we want to know, or play hide an' seek.--You're not afraid that
I don't mean well? [_ROSE shakes her head vigorously._] An 'twould be
strange if you did. That's settled then. You used to play with my little
Kurt. You two grew up together until it pleased God to take my only
child.--An' that very time your mother died too an' I remember--she was
lyin' on her deathbed--that she was askin' me that I might, if possible,
look after you a bit.
ROSE
[_Staring straight before her._] The best thing for me would be to jump
into the river! If things is that way ... God forgive me the sin!
MRS. FLAMM
If things are that way? How? I don't understand you! You might well speak
a bit more clearly.--In the first place, I'm a woman myself, an' it won't
astonish me. An' then--I've been a mother myself, even if I have no
children now. Lass, who knows what's wrong with you? I've been watchin'
you for weeks an' weeks; maybe you didn't notice anything, but now I want
you to come out with the truth.--Wheel me over to that chest o' drawers.
[_ROSE obeys her._] So! Here in these drawers are old things--a child's
clothes an' toys. They were Kurt's ... Your mother said to me once: My
Rose, she'll be a mother o' children! But her blood is a bit too hot!--I
don't know. Maybe she was right. [_She takes a large doll from one of the
drawers._] Do you see? Things may go as they want to in this world, but a
mother is not to be despised.--You and Kurt used to play with this doll.
'Twas you mainly that took care o' her, washed her, fed her, gave her
clean linen, an' once--Flamm happened to come up--you put her to your
breast.--You brought those flowers this morning, didn't you? The
forget-me-nots in the little dish yonder? An' you put flowers on Kurt's
grave o' Sunday. Children an' graves--they're women's care. [_She has
taken a little child's linen shift from the drawer, she unfolds it,
holding it by the sleeves, and speaks from behind it._] Didn't you,
Rosie? An' I thank you for it, too. Your father, you see, he's busy with
his missionary meetin's an' his Bible lessons an' such things. All people
are sinners here, says he, an' he wants to make angels of 'em. It may be
that he's right, but I don't understand those things. I've learned one
thing in this world, an' that is what it is to be a mother an' how a
mother is blessed with sorrows.
_ROSE overwhelmed and moaning has sunk down beside MRS. FLAMM and
kisses the latter's hands again and again in gratitude and as a sign
of confession._
MRS. FLAMM
[_Shows by a sudden gleam in her eyes that she understands the truth and
has received the confession. But she continues to speak quietly._] You
see, lass, that's what I've learned. I've learned that one thing which
the world has forgotten. I don't know very much about anything else. As
much as most people, maybe, an' that's not any real knowledge. [_She lays
down the child's shift carefully on her lap._] Well, now you go home an'
be of good courage! I'll be thinkin' things over for you. 'Tis well so
far. I'll ask you no more just now. You're different now ... all's
different. An' I'll be doubly careful. I don't want to know anything, but
I want you to depend on me. Little I care, anyhow, who the father is--if
'tis a councillor or a beggar. It's we who have to bring the children
into the world, an' no one can help us there. Three things you must think
about--how about your father, and about August ... an' something more.
But I have time enough! I'll think it all over an' I'll feel that I'm
still good for something in this world.
ROSE
[_Has arisen and passed again into a state of moral numbness._] No, no,
Mrs. Flamm, don't do that! You can't! Don't take no interest in me! I've
not deserved it of him nor of no one! I know that! I've got to fight it
through--alone! There's no help in others for me; it's ... no, I can't
tell you no clearer!... You're as good to me as an angel! Dear God,
you're much too good! But it's no use! I can't take your help.
Good-bye....
MRS. FLAMM
Wait a little! I can't let you go this way. Who knows what you may be
doin'?
ROSE
No, you can be reel quiet about that, Mrs. Flamm. I'm not that desperate
yet. If there's need, I can work for my child. Heaven's high an' the
world is wide! If it was just me, an' if it wasn't for father an' if
August didn't seem so pitiful ... an' then, a child ought to have a
father!
MRS. FLAMM
Good. You just be resolute. You were always a brave girl. An' 'tis better
if you can keep your courage up!--But, if I've understood you rightly, I
can't see at all why you want to fight against the weddin'.
ROSE
[_Becomes sullen, pale and fearful._] What can I say? I don't hardly
know! An' I don't want to fight against it no more. Only ...
Streckmann....
MRS. FLAMM
Be open with me, you understand? For my part you can go home now! But
come back to-morrow! An' listen to this thing I say: Be glad! A woman
ought to be glad of her child....
ROSE
An' God knows that I am! An' I will fight it all through! Only--nobody
can't help me to do it!
[_Exit quickly._
MRS. FLAMM [_Alone. She looks after ROSE, sighs, takes the child's shift
from her lap, unfolds it as before and says:_] Ah, lass,'tis a good
fortune that you have, not an evil! There's none that's greater for a
woman! Hold it fast!
THE CURTAIN FALLS
THE THIRD ACT
_A fertile landscape. In the foreground, to the right, on a
triangular piece of greensward slightly below the level of the
fields, there stands an old pear tree, at the foot of which a spring
empties into a primitive basin of stone. The middle distance is of
meadow land. In the background a pool, bordered by reeds and dotted
by water plants, lies in a grove of alder trees and bushes of
hazelnut, willow and beech. The meadows extend on either side
encircled by immemorial oaks, elms, beeches and birch trees. Between
the foliage of the trees and bushes the church spires of distant
villages are visible. To the left, behind the bushes, arise the
thatched roofs of the field barns._
_It is a hot afternoon of early August._
_From afar is heard the hum of the threshing machine. BERND and
AUGUST KEIL come from, the right. They are worn out from labour and
from the heat. The men are clad only in their shirts, breeches, boots
and caps. Each carries a hoe across his shoulder, a scythe in his
hand, and carries at his belt a cowherd's horn and whetstone._
BERND
'Tis hot an' to spare to-day. A man must rest a bit! But a feelin' o'
peace comes to you workin' on your own ground.
AUGUST
The trouble is I'm not used to mowin'.
BERND
You went an' did your share right bravely.
AUGUST
Yes, yes! But how long can I do it? All my limbs are twitchin' an'
hurtin' me now.
BERND
You can rest content, my son. A man's got to be used to that kind o'
work. An' in your case 'tis only an exception. But, 's I said, you could
well go an' be a gard'ner.
AUGUST
For the space of a day. On the second I'd collapse. There's no use; I'm
but a broken reed. I went to the county physician again. 'Twas the same
as always. He just shrugged his shoulders.
BERND
You're well now an' in God's hands. The most you might do is to put a few
rusty nails in water an' drink the rinsings two or three times a week.
That purifies the blood an' strengthens the heart.--I only hope the
weather'll keep on this way.
AUGUST
The heat's too terrible. When we were mowin', I thought I heard thunder.
BERND
[_Kneeling down on the edge of the basin and drinking from the surface of
the spring._] Water is the best drink for all they say.
AUGUST
How late is it?
BERND
'Tis about four o'clock, I'm wonderin' what keeps Rose with our evenin'
meal. [_He raises his scythe and looks at the blade. AUGUST does the
same._] Will you have to sharpen? Mine will do a bit longer.
AUGUST
I can try it this way a while longer.
BERND
[_Throws himself on the grass under the pear tree._] You'd better come
an' sit down by me. An' if, maybe, you got your Testament with you, we
might refresh ourselves with the Good Word.
AUGUST
[_Sitting down exhausted and glad to be free._] All I say is: Thanks and
praise be to the Lord.
BERND
D'you see, August, I said to you then: Let her be! The lass will find her
own way! Now she's come to her senses! In the old days, before your time,
often an' often I worried about her. A kind o' stubbornness used to come
over her from time to time. An' 'twas always best to let her
be!--Sometimes it seemed, as God lives, as if the lass was runnin'
against a wall--a strong wall that nobody else couldn't see, an' as if
she had to grope her way around it first.
AUGUST
What got into her that day ... I'm thankin' God on my knees ... but that
day I didn't know what to make of it! Suddenly she--how that came about
...? No, I can't see the rights of it to this day.
BERND
An' how different did she act this time when we went down to the
magistrate.
AUGUST
I'm glad that it's no longer Squire Flamm.
BERND
Yes, an' this time she didn't say a word an' in four or five minutes
everythin' was straight. That's the way she is. 'Tis the way o' women.
AUGUST
D'you think it had somethin' to do with Streckmann? He called out some
words behind you that day, an' first he had talked to her.
BERND
It may be so, an' it may not be so. I can't tell you. Times is when one
can't get a word out o' her. 'Tis not a good thing. An' on that account
I'm glad that she'll be the wife of a man who can influence her an' take
that sullen way from her. You two are meant for one another. 'Tis well!
The girl needs to be led, an' you have a kind hand an' a gentle one.
AUGUST
When I see that Streckmann, I feel as if I had to look upon the evil one
hisself....
BERND