usual one in your circles, I will go and not annoy you any longer. But as
a father I have the right before God, to demand of you that henceforth
you refuse to my deluded son this so-called dramatic instruction. I hope
I shall not have to look for further ways and means of enforcing this
demand.
HASSENREUTER
I won't only do that, but I'll actually put him out of doors.
[_He accompanies the PASTOR to the door, slams it behind him and
returns alone._
HASSENREUTER
[_Waving his arms through the air._] All that one can say here is: Plain
parson! [_He rushes halfway up the stairs to the loft._] Spitta!
Walburga! Come down here, will you?
_WALBURGA and SPITTA come down._
HASSENREUTER
[_To WALBURGA, who looks at him questioningly._] Go to your high stool
over there and sit down on the humorous part of your anatomy! Well, and
you, my dear Spitta, what do you want?
SPITTA
You called us both, sir.
HASSENREUTER
Exactly. Now look me in the eye!
SPITTA Certainly.
[_He looks straight at HASSENREUTER._
HASSENREUTER
You two want to make an ass of me. But you won't succeed! Silence! Not a
word! I would have expected something very different from you! This is a
striking proof of ingratitude. Keep still! Furthermore, a gentleman was
here just now! That gentleman is afraid in Berlin! March! Follow him!
Take him down into the street and try to make it clear to him that I'm
neither your bootblack nor his.
[_SPITTA shrugs his shoulders, takes his hat and goes._
HASSENREUTER
[_Strides up to WALBURGA energetically and tweaks her ear._] And as for
you, my dear, you'll have your ears soundly boxed if ever again without
my permission you exchange two words with this rascal of a theologian
gone to smash!
WALBURGA
Ouch, papa, ouch!
HASSENREUTER
This fellow who is fond of making such an innocent face as if he couldn't
harm a fly and whom I was careless enough to admit to my house is,
unfortunately, a man behind whose mask the most shameless impudence lies
in wait. I and my house are in the service of true propriety. Do you want
to besmirch the escutcheon of oar honour as the sister of this fellow
seems to have done--a girl who disgraced, her parents by coming to an end
in the street and the gutter?
WALBURGA
I don't share your opinion about Erich, papa.
HASSENREUTER
What's that? Well, at least you know my opinion. Either you give him his
walking papers or else you can look out for yourself and find out what it
is to get along, away from your parental roof, in a way of life
regardless of honour, duty and decency! In that case you can go! I have
no use for daughters of that kind!
WALBURGA
[_Pale and sombre._] You are always saying, papa, that you too had to
make your way independently and without your parents.
HASSENREUTER
You're not a man.
WALBURGA
Certainly not. But think, for instance, of Alice Rütterbusch.
[_Father and daughter look firmly into each other's eyes._
HASSENREUTER
Why should I? Have you a fever, eh? Or have you gone mad? [_He drops the
whole discussion, noticeably put out of countenance, and taps at the
library door._] Where did we leave off? Begin at the proper place.
_KEGEL and KÄFERSTEIN appear._
KEGEL _and_ KÄFERSTEIN
[_Declaim:_]
"A wiser temper
Beseemeth age.
I, being reasonable,
Salute him first."
_Led and directed by SPITTA appear PAULINE PIPERCARCKA in street
dress and MRS. KIELBACKE, who carries an infant on a pillow._
HASSENREUTER
What do you want here? What kind of women are you bringing here to annoy
me?
SPITTA
It isn't my fault, sir. The women insisted on coming to you.
MRS. KIELBACKE
No; all we wants is to see Mrs. John.
PAULINE
An' Mrs. John she's always up here with you!
HASSENREUTER
True. But I'm beginning to regret the fact, and I must insist, at all
events, that she hold her private receptions in her own rooms and not
here. Otherwise I'll soon equip the door here with patent locks and
mantraps.--What's the matter with you, my good Spitta? I suppose you'll
have to have the goodness to show these ladies the place they really want
to go to.
PAULINE
But Mrs. John ain't to be found in her rooms downstairs.
HASSENREUTER
Well, she's not to be found up here either.
MRS. KIELBACKE
The reason is because this here young lady has her little son boardin'
with Mrs. John.
HASSENREUTER
Glad to hear it! Please march now without further delay! Save me,
Käferstein!
MRS. KIELBACKE
An' now a gentleman's come from the city, from the office of the
government guardian office to see how the child is an' if it's well taken
care of an' in good condition. An' then he went into Mrs. John's room an'
we went with him. An' there was the child an' a note pinned to it what
said that Mrs. John was workin' for you up here.
HASSENREUTER
Where was the child boarding?
MRS. KIELBACKE
With Mrs. John.
HASSENREUTER
[_Impatiently._] That's simply a piece of imbecility. You are quite
wrong.--Spitta, you would have been much better employed accompanying the
old gentleman after whom I sent you than aiding these ladies to come
here.
SPITTA
I looked for the gentleman you speak of but he was already gone.
HASSENREUTER
These ladies don't seem to believe me. Will you kindly inform them,
gentlemen, that Mrs. John has no child in board, and that they are quite
obviously mistaken in the name.
KÄFERSTEIN
I am asked to tell you that you are probably mistaken in the name.
PAULINE
[_Vehemently and tearfully._] She has got my baby! She had my baby
boardin' with her. An' the gentleman came from the city an' he said that
the child wasn't in no good hands an' that it was neglected. She went an'
ruined my baby's health.
HASSENREUTER
There is no doubt but what you have mistaken the name of the woman of
whom you speak, Mrs. John has no child in board.
PAULINE
She had my baby in her claws, that's what! An' she let it starve an' get
sick! I gotta see her! I gotta tell her right out! She's gotta make my
little baby well again! I gotta go to court. The gentleman says as how I
gotta go to court an' give notice.
HASSENREUTER
I beg of you not to get excited. The fact is that you are mistaken! How
did you ever hit on the idea that Mrs. John has a child in board?
PAULINE
Because I gave it to her myself.
HASSENREUTER
But Mrs. John has her own child and it just occurs to me that she has
taken it along with her on a visit to her sister-in-law.
PAULINE
She ain't got no child. No, Mrs. John ain't got none! She cheats an' she
lies. She ain't got none. She took my little Alois an' she ruined him.
HASSENREUTER
By heaven, ladies, you are mistaken!
PAULINE
Nobody won't believe me that I had a baby. My intended he wrote me a
letter an' he says it ain't true an' that I'm a liar an' a low creature.
[_She touches the pillow on which the infant is resting._] It's mine an'
I'll prove it in court! I c'n swear it by the holy Mother o' God.
HASSENREUTER
Do uncover the child. [_It is done and HASSENREUTER observes the infant
attentively._]--H-m, the matter will not remain long in obscurity. In the
first place ... I know Mrs. John. If she had had this child in board it
could never look as it does. And that is true quite simply because, where
it is a question of children, Mrs. John has her heart in the right place.
PAULINE
I want to see Mrs. John. That's all I says. I don't has to tell my
business to everybody in the world. I c'n tell everythin' in court, down
to the least thing--the day an' the hour an' jus' exackly the place where
it was born! People is goin' to open their eyes; you c'n believe me.
HASSENREUTER
What you assert, then, if I understand you rightly, is that Mrs. John has
no baby of her own at all, and that the one which passes as such is in
reality yours.
PAULINE
God strike me dead if that ain't the truth!
HASSENREUTER
And this is the child in question? I trust that God won't take you at
your word this time.--You must know that I, who stand before you, am
manager Hassenreuter and I have personally had in my own hands the child
of Mrs. John, my charwoman, on three or four occasions. I even weighed it
on the scales and found it to weigh over eight pounds. This poor little
creature doesn't weigh over four pounds. And on the basis of this fact I
can assure you that this child is not, at least, the child of Mrs. John.
You may be right in asserting that it is yours. I am in no position to
throw doubt on that. But I know Mrs. John's child and I am quite sure
that it is, in no wise, identical with this.
MRS. KIELBACKE
[_Respectfully._] No, no; that's right enough. It ain't identical.
PAULINE
This baby here is identical enough all right, even if it's a bit underfed
an' weakly. This business with the child is all straight enough! I'll
take an oath that it's identical all right.
HASSENREUTER
I am simply speechless. [_To his pupils._] Our lesson is ruled by an evil
star to-day, my dear boys. I don't know why, but the error which these
ladies are making engrosses me. [_To the women._] You may have entered
the wrong door.
MRS. KIELBACKE
No, me an' the gentleman from the guardian's office an' the young lady
went an' fetched this here child outa the room what has the name plate o'
Mrs. John on it, an' took it out into the hall. Mrs. John wasn't there
an' her husband the mason is absent in Hamburg.
_POLICEMAN SCHIERKE comes in, fat and good-natured._
HASSENREUTER
Ah, there's Mr. Schierke! What do you want here?
SCHIERKE
I understand, sir, that two women fled up here to you.
MRS. KIELBACKE
We ain't fled at all.
HASSENREUTER
They were inquiring for Mrs. John.
SCHIERKE
May I be permitted to ax somethin' too?
HASSENREUTER
If you please.
PAULINE
Jus' let him ax. We don't has to worry.
SCHIERKE
[_To MRS. KIELBACKE._] What's your name?
MRS. KIELBACKE
I'm Mrs. Kielbacke.
SCHIERKE
You're connected with the society for raisin' children, eh? Where do you
live?
MRS. KIELBACKE
Linien street number nine.
SCHIERKE
Is that your child that you have there?
MRS. KIELBACKE
That's Miss Pipercarcka her child.
SCHIERKE
[_To PAULINE._] An' your name?
PAULINE
Paula Pipercarcka from Skorzenin.
SCHIERKE
This woman asserts that the child is yours. Do you assert that too?
PAULINE
Sergeant, I has to ax for your protection because suspicions is cast on
me an' I'm innercent. The gentleman from the city did come to me. An' I
did get my child outa the room o' Mrs. John what I had it in board with
...
SCHIERKE
[_With a searching look._] Yes? Maybe it was the door across the way
where the restaurant keeper's widow Knobbe lives. Nobody knows what
you're up to with that child nor who sent you an' bribed you. You ain't
got a good conscience! You took the child an' slipped up here with it
while its rightful mother, the widow Knobbe, what it's been stolen from,
is huntin' all over the stairs an' halls for it an' while a detective is
standin' acrost the way.
PAULINE
I don't care about no detective. I'm ...
HASSENREUTER
You are refuted, my good girl. Can't you comprehend that? First you say
that Mrs. John has no child. Next you say--kindly attend to me--that you
had taken your child, which has been passing for Mrs. John's, out of the
latter's room. However; all of us here happen to know Mrs. John's child
and the one you have here is another. Is that clear to you? Hence your
assertion cannot, in any circumstances, be a correct one!--And now,
Schierke, you would do me a favour if you would conduct these ladies out
so that I can continue giving my lesson.
SCHIERKE
All right, but if I does that we'll get into that Knobbe crowd. Because
her child has been stolen.
PAULINE
It ain't me that done it; it's Mrs. John.
SCHIERKE
That's all right. [_Continuing his account to HASSENREUTER._] And they
says that the child has blue blood in it on its father's side. So Mrs.
Knobbe thinks as how it's a plot of enemies 'cause they grudges her the
alimony in some quarters an' a gentleman's eddication for the kid.
[_Someone is beating at the door with fists._] That's the Knobbe woman.
There she comes now!
HASSENREUTER
Mr. Schierke, you are responsible to me. If these people trespass on my
premises and I suffer any damages thereby, I'll complain to the chief of
police. I know Mr. Maddei very well. Don't be afraid, my dear boys. You
are my witnesses.
SCHIERKE
[_At the door._] You stay out there! You don't get in here!
_A small mob howls outside of the door._
PAULINE
They c'n holler all they wants to but they can't get my child.
HASSENREUTER
Perhaps this is the better way. You go into the library for the present.
[_He escorts PAULINE, MRS. KIELBACKE and the child into the library._]
And now, Mr. Schierke, we might risk letting that fury enter in here.
SCHIERKE
[_Opening the door slightly._] All right. But only Mrs. Knobbe! Come in
here a minute.
_MRS. SIDONIE KNOBBE appears. She is tall and emaciated and dressed
in a badly worn but fashionable summer gown. Her face bears the
stigma, of a dissolute life but gives evidence of a not ungentle
origin. Her air is curiously like that of a gentlewoman. She talks
affectedly and her eyes show addiction to alcohol and morphine._
MRS. KNOBBE
[_Sailing in._] There is no cause for any anxiety, Mr. Hassenreuter.
Those without are principally little boys and girls who have come with me
because I am fond of children. Pray pardon me if I intrude. One of the
children told me that two women had sneaked up here with my little boy. I
am looking for my little son, named Helfgott Gundofried, who has actually
disappeared from my dwelling. At the same time I do not wish to incommode
you.
SCHIERKE
An' you better not do that if I has any say about it.
MRS. KNOBBE
[_Disregarding these words except by a proud toss of the head._] To my
great regret I caused a certain amount of disturbance in the yard. From
the yard as a place of vantage it is possible to command every window and
I made inquiries of the poor cigar maker in the second story and of the
consumptive little seamstress in the third as to whether my Selma and my
little son were with either of them. But nothing is farther from my
intention than to create a scandal. I want you to know--- for I am quite
conscious of being in the presence of a distinguished, indeed, of a
famous man--you are to know that where Helfgott Gundofried is concerned I
am obliged to be strictly on my guard! [_With quivering voice and an
occasional application of her handkerchief to her eyes._] I am an
unfortunate woman who is pursued by fate, who has sunk low but who has
seen better days. I do not care to bore you with my troubles. But I am
being pursued and there are those who would rob me of my last hope.
SCHIERKE
Aw, hurry up an' say what you has to!
MRS. KNOBBE
[_As before._] It is not enough that I was forced to lay aside my honest
name. Later I lived in Paris and then married a brutal person, a south
German inn-keeper, because I had the foolish thought that my affairs
might be bettered thereby. O these scoundrels of men!
SCHIERKE
This don't lead to nothin'! You cut it short, I tell you.
MRS. KNOBBE
But I am glad of the opportunity of standing, once more, face to face
with a man of culture and intellect. I could a tale unfold ... Popularly
I am known here as "the countess" and God is my witness that in my
earlier youth I was not far removed from that estate! For a time I was an
actress, too. What did I say! I could unfold a tale from my life, from my
past, which would have the advantage of not being invented!
SCHIERKE
Maybe not. Nobody c'n tell.
MRS. KNOBBE
[_With renewed emphasis._] My wretchedness is not invented, although it
may seem so when I relate how, one night, sunk in the deepest abysses of
my shame, I met on the street a cousin--the playmate of my youth--who is
now captain in the horse-guards. He lives in the world: I live in the
underworld ever since my father from pride of rank and race disowned me
because in my earliest youth I had made a mistake. Oh, you have no
conception of the dullness, the coarseness, the essential vulgarity that
obtains in those circles. I am a trodden worm, sir, and yet not for a
moment do I yearn to be there, in that glittering wretchedness....
SCHIERKE
Maybe you don't mind comin' to the point now!
HASSENREUTER
If you please, Mr. Schierke, all that interests me. So suppose you don't
interrupt the lady for a while. [_To MRS. KNOBBE._] You were speaking of
your cousin. Didn't you say that he is a captain in the horse-guards?
MRS. KNOBBE
He was in plain clothes. He is, however, a captain in the horse-guards.
He recognised me at once and we dedicated some blessed though painful
hours to memories. Accompanying him there was--I will not call his
name--a very young lieutenant, a fair, sweet boy, delicate and brooding.
Mr. Hassenreuter, I have forgotten what shame is! Was I not even, the
other day, turned out of church? Why should a down-trodden, dishonoured,
deserted creature, more than once punished by the laws--why should such
an one hesitate to confess that _he_ became the father of Helfgott
Gundofried?
HASSENREUTER
Of this baby that's been stolen from you?
MRS. KNOBBE
Yes, stolen! At least it is so asserted! It may be! But though my enemies
are mighty and have every means at their command, I am not yet wholly
convinced of it. And yet it may be a plot concocted by the parents of the
child's father whose name you would be astonished to hear, for they
represent one of the oldest and most illustrious families. Farewell!
Whatever you may hear of me, sir, do not think that my better feelings
have been wholly extinguished in the mire into which I am forced to cast
myself. I need this mire in which I am on terms of equality with the
dregs of mankind. Here, look! [_She thrusts forward her naked arm._]
Forgetfulness! Insensibility! I achieve it by means of chloral, of opium.
Or I find it in the abysses of human life. And why not? To whom am I
responsible?--There was a time when my dear mama was scolded by my father
on my account! The maid had convulsions because of me! Mademoiselle and
an English governess tore each other's _chignons_ from their heads
because each asserted that I loved _her_ best--! Now ...
SCHIERKE
Aw, I tell you to shut it now! We can't take up people's time an' lock
'em up. [_He opens the library door._] Now tell us if this here is your
kid?
_PAULINE, staring at MRS. KNOBBE with eyes full of hatred, comes out
first. MRS. KIELBACKE, carrying the child, comes next. SCHIERKE
removes the shawl, that has been thrown over the child._
PAULINE
What d'you want o' me? Why d'you come chasin' me? I ain' no gypsy! I don'
go in people's houses stealin' their children! Eh? You're crazy, I
wouldn't do no such thing. I ain't hardly got enough to eat for myself
an' my own child. D'you s'pose I'm goin' to steal strange children an'
feed 'em till they're grown when the one I got is trouble an' worry
enough!
_MRS. KNOBBE stares about her inquiringly and as if seeking help.
Rapidly she draws a little flask from her pocket and pours its
contents upon a handkerchief. The latter she carries swiftly to her
mouth and nose, inhaling the fragrance of the perfume to keep her
from fainting._
HASSENREUTER
Well, why don't you speak, Mrs. Knobbe? This girl asserts that she is the
mother of the child--not you.
_MRS. KNOBBE lifts her umbrella in order to strike out with it. She
is restrained by those present._
SCHIERKE
That won't do! You can't practice no discipline like that here! You c'n
do that when you're alone in your nursery downstairs.--The main thing is:
who does here kid belong to? An' so--now--Mrs. Knobbe, you just take care
an' think so's to tell nothin' but the truth here! Well! Is it yours or
is it her'n?
MRS. KNOBBE
[_Bursts out_] I swear by the holy Mother of God, by Jesus Christ,
Father, Son and Holy Ghost that I am the mother of this child.
PAULINE
An' I swears by the Holy Mother o' God ...
HASSENREUTER
You'd better not if you want to save your soul! We may have a case here
in which the circumstances are complicated in the extreme! It is
possible, therefore, that you were about to swear in perfectly good
faith. But you will have to admit that, though each of you may well be
the mother of twins--two mothers for one child is unthinkable!
WALBURGA
[_Who, like MRS. KNOBBE, has been staring steadily at the child._] Papa,
papa, do look at the child a moment first!
MRS. KIELBACKE
[_Tearfully and horrified._] Yes, the poor little crittur's been a-dyin',
I believe, ever since I was in the other room there!
SCHIERKE
What?
HASSENREUTER
How? [_Energetically he strides forward, and now regards the child
carefully too._] The child is dead. There's no question about that! It
seems that invisible to us, one has been in our midst who has delivered
judgment, truly according to the manner of Solomon, concerning the poor
little passive object of all this strife.
PAULINE
[_Who has not understood._] What's the matter?
SCHIERKE
Keep still!--You come along with me.
_MRS. KNOBBE seems to have lost the power of speech. She puts her
handkerchief into her mouth. A moaning sob is heard deep in her
chest. SCHIERKE, MRS. KIELBACKE with the dead child, followed by MRS.
KNOBBE and PAULINE PIPERCARCKA, leave the room. A dull murmur is
heard from the outer hall. HASSENREUTER returns to the foreground
after he has locked the door behind those who have left._
HASSENREUTER
_Sic eunt fata hominum._ Invent something like that, if you can, my good
Spitta.
THE FOURTH ACT
_The dwelling of the foreman-mason JOHN as in the second act. It is
eight o'clock on a Sunday morning._
_JOHN is invisible behind the partition. From his plashing and
snorting it is clear that he is performing his morning ablutions._
_QUAQUARO has just entered. His hand is still on the knob of the
outer door._
QUAQUARO
Tell me, Paul, is your wife at home?
JOHN
[_From behind the partition._] Not yet, Emil. My wife went with the boy
out to my married sister's in Hangelsberg. But she's goin' to come back
this mornin'. [_Drying his hands and face, JOHN appears in the door of
the partition wall._] Good mornin' to you, Emil.
QUAQUARO
Mornin', Paul.
JOHN
Well, what's the news? I didn't come from the train till about half an
hour ago.
QUAQUARO
Yes, I saw you goin' into the house an' mountin' the stairs.
JOHN
[_In a jolly frame of mind._] That's right, Emil! You're a reglar old
watch-dog, eh?
QUAQUARO
Tell, me, Paul: How long has your wife'n the kid been out in Hangelsberg?
JOHN
Oh, that must be somethin' like a week now, Emil. D'you want anythin' of
her? I guess she paid her rent an' on time all right. By the way, I might
as well give you notice right now. We got it all fixed. We're goin' to
move on the first of October. I got mother to the point at last that we
c'n move outa this here shaky old barracks an' into a better
neighbourhood.
QUAQUARO
So you ain't goin' back to Hamburg no more?
JOHN
Naw. It's a good sayin': Stay at home an' make an honest livin'! I'm not
goin' outa town no more. Not a bit of it! First of all, it's no sort o'
life, goin' from one lodgin' to another. An' then--a man don' get no
younger neither! The girls, they ain't so hot after you no more ... No,
it's a good thing that all this wanderin' about is goin' to end.
QUAQUARO
Your wife--she's a fine schemer.
JOHN
[_Merrily._] Well, this is a brand new household what's jus' had a child
born into it. I said to the boss: I'm a newly married man! Then he axed
me if my first wife was dead. On the contrary an' not a bit of it, I
says. She's alive an' kickin', so that she's jus' given birth to a
kickin' young citizen o' Berlin, that's what! When I was travellin' along
from Hamburg this mornin' by all the old stations--Hamburg, Stendal,
Ultzen--an' got outa the fourth-class coach at the Lehrter station with
all my duds, the devil take me if I didn't thank God with a sigh. I guess
he didn't hear on account o' the noise o' the trains.
QUAQUARO
Did you hear, Paul, that Mrs. Knobbe's youngest over the way has been
taken off again?
JOHN
No. What chance did I have to hear that? But if it's dead, it's a good
thing, Emil. When I saw the poor crittur a week ago when it had
convulsions an' Selma brought it in an' me an' mother gave it a spoonful
o' sugar an' water--well, it was pretty near ready for heaven then.
QUAQUARO
An' you mean to tell me that you didn't hear nothin' o' the
circumstances, about the how an' the why o' that child's death?
JOHN
Naw! [_He fetches a long tobacco pipe from behind the sofa._] Wait a
minute! I'll light a pipe first! I didn't have no chanct to hear nothin'.
QUAQUARO
Well, I'm surprised that your wife didn't write you nothin' at all.
JOHN