(_He takes off her veil, removes her hat-pin, and puts hat,

HANDS AROUND

OF THIS EDITION, INTENDED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION ONLY, 1475 COPIES

HAVE BEEN PRINTED, AFTER WHICH THE TYPE HAS BEEN DISTRIBUTED.

THIS COPY IS NUMBER 738

HANDS AROUND

[REIGEN]

A CYCLE OF TEN DIALOGUES

_By_

ARTHUR SCHNITZLER

COMPLETELY RENDERED

INTO ENGLISH

AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION

NEW YORK

_Privately Printed for Subscribers_

MCMXX

Copyright, 1920

By

A. KOREN

INTRODUCTION

Humanity seems gayest when dancing on the brink of a volcano. The

culture of a period preceding a social cataclysm is marked by a spirit

of light wit and sophisticated elegance which finds expression in

a literature of a distinct type. This literature is light-hearted,

audacious and self-conscious. It can treat with the most charming

insouciance subjects which in another age would have been awkward or

even vulgar. But with the riper experience of a period approaching

its end the writers feel untrammeled in the choice of theme by pride

or prejudice knowing that they will never transgress the line of good

taste.

So it was in the declining days of the Roman civilization when Lucian

of Samosata wrote his _Dialogues of the Hetærai_ and countless poets

penned their intricate epigrams on the art and experience of love. So

it was in England when the fine vigor of the Elizabethan and Miltonic

age gave way to the Restoration and the calculating brilliance of a

Congreve or a Wycherly.

But the exquisite handling of the licentious was elaborated into a

perfect technique in eighteenth century France. The spirit of the

Rococo with its predilection for the well-measured pose was singularly

well adapted to the artistic expression of what in a cruder age could

only have been voiced with coarseness and vulgarity. In the literature

of this period we meet again the spirit that animates the gracious

paintings of Watteau and Fragonard. The scenes we admire in their

panels recur in literary style in works like Choderlos de Laclos’

_Liaisons dangereuses_ and Louvet de Couvray’s _Les amours du Chevalier

de Faublas_. Again the same note is heard in Beaumarchais’ _Le

Mariage de Figaro_, in which the society of the period is travestied

with brilliant wit and worldly philosophy. The court of Louis XVI.,

quite unaware, looked on and applauded a play which Napoleon later

characterized as “the revolution already in action.”

During the closing years of the nineteenth century a similar spirit has

hovered over Vienna, when it was the last and staunchest stronghold

of aristocracy in the modern world. Its literature reflected the

charm of a fastidious amatory etiquette which is forbidden in sterner

and soberer environment, while it gayly ignored the slow gathering

of the clouds which foreshadowed its own catastrophe and martyrdom.

As Percival Pollard once so well put it: “All that rises out of that

air has had fascination, grace, insinuation, and intrigue. Neither

tremendous passion nor tremendous problems have stirred, to all

appearances, these polite artists of Vienna. Passion might be there,

but what was to be artistically expressed was, rather, the witty or

ironically mournful surfaces of passion.”

The literary master of this world is concededly Arthur Schnitzler,

in whom are curiously combined the sophisticated elegance of the

Viennese man of letters and the disenchanting wisdom of the practising

physician. He was born in Vienna in 1862, the son of a doctor. He

studied medicine himself, took his degree in 1885, and was for two

years connected with a hospital. Since then he has practised privately,

and has also found the time to write a long series of plays, both in

prose and verse, several novels, and many shorter stories. Of these a

considerable number have appeared in English.

_Reigen_, here translated as _Hands Around_, is a series of ten

comedies—miniatures in dialogue between man and woman in various ages

and walks of life. But transgressing the merely literary they are

psychological studies of the interplay of sex, and keen analyses of the

sophisticated modern soul, done with freedom and finesse. There are no

grim questions of right and wrong in these subtle revelations of the

merely human. In fact one might call them studies in the etiquette of

the liaison and all its nuances.

The cycle begins with a girl of the streets and a soldier. Then come

the soldier and a parlor-maid, the parlor-maid and a young man, the

young man and a young wife, the young wife and her husband, the

husband and a sweet young miss, the sweet young miss and a poet, the

poet and an actress, the actress and a count, until finally the cycle

is completed with the count and the girl of the streets. A vicious

circle, some may say, and such it surely would have been in the hands

of a lesser artist than Schnitzler, for he would only have made the

book hideously fleshly, instead of a marvelous psychological study in

the ecstacies and disillusions of love and the whole tragedy of human

wishes unsatisfied even in their apparent gratification.

But as it is the silken portières of discreet alcoves are opened

quietly before our eyes, and we hear the whisper of the most intimate

secrets. But with all their realism there is no word in these dialogues

which could antagonize the susceptibilities of any sincere student

or true lover of humanity. All stratagems of sex are uncovered not

through the curious observations of a faunic mind, but through the

finer eyes of a connoisseur of things human.

The Puritan fanatic with his jaundiced inhibitions or the moral

ideologist with his heart of leather may toss the book aside resentful

because of its inherent truth. The philosopher of human life, taking

the larger aspect of this drama, will close it with the serene smile of

understanding.

Any attempt to turn a dialogue so full of delicate shades as is

this of Schnitzler into a language like English, whose genius tends

rather toward a graphic concreteness and realism, is full of pitfalls

and difficulties. The translators, however, hope that they have

accomplished their task with reasonable success, thinking always of

the spirit rather than the letter. They also take this occasion to

express their appreciation to Dr. Arthur Schnitzler for his kindness in

granting them his authorization for this translation of _Reigen_.

F. L. G.

L. D. E.

New York

1920

HANDS AROUND

CHARACTERS

THE GIRL OF THE STREETS,

THE SOLDIER,

THE PARLOR MAID,

THE YOUNG MAN,

THE YOUNG WIFE,

THE HUSBAND,

THE SWEET YOUNG MISS,

THE POET,

THE ACTRESS,

THE COUNT.

THE GIRL OF THE STREETS AND THE SOLDIER

_Late in the evening near the Augarten Bridge._

SOLDIER

(_Enters whistling, on his way home_)

GIRL

Hello, my beautiful angel!

SOLDIER

(_Turns and continues on his way_)

GIRL

Don’t you want to come with me?

SOLDIER

Oh, I am the beautiful angel?

GIRL

Sure, who else? Do come with me. I live very near here.

SOLDIER

I’ve no time. I must get back to the barracks.

GIRL

You’ll get to your barracks in plenty of time. It’s much nicer with me.

SOLDIER

(_Close to her_) That’s possible.

GIRL

Ps-st! A guard may pass any minute.

SOLDIER

Rot! A guard! I carry a saber too!

GIRL

Ah, come with me.

SOLDIER

Let me alone. I have no money anyway.

GIRL

I don’t want any money.

SOLDIER

(_Stopping. They are under a street-lamp_) You don’t want any money?

What kind of a girl are you, then?

GIRL

The civilians pay me. Chaps like you don’t have to pay me for anything.

SOLDIER

Maybe you’re the girl my pal told me about.

GIRL

I don’t know any pal of yours.

SOLDIER

You’re she, all right! You know—in the café down the street—He went

home with you from there.

GIRL

Lots have gone home with me from that café… Oh, lots!

SOLDIER

All right. Let’s go!

GIRL

So, you’re in a hurry now?

SOLDIER

Well, what are we waiting for? Anyhow, I must be back at the barracks

by ten.

GIRL

Been in service long?

SOLDIER

What business is that of yours? Is it far?

GIRL

Ten minutes’ walk.

SOLDIER

That’s too far for me. Give me a kiss.

GIRL

(_Kissing him_) I like that best anyway—when I love some one.

SOLDIER

I don’t. No, I can’t go with you. It’s too far.

GIRL

Say, come to-morrow afternoon.

SOLDIER

Sure. Give me your address.

GIRL

But maybe you won’t come.

SOLDIER

If I promise!

GIRL

Look here—if my place is too far to-night—there … there…

(_She points toward the Danube_)

SOLDIER

What’s there?

GIRL

It’s nice and quiet there, too … no one is around.

SOLDIER

Oh, that’s not the real thing.

GIRL

It’s always the real thing with me. Come, stay with me now. Who knows,

if we’ll be alive to-morrow.

SOLDIER

Come along then—but quick.

GIRL

Be careful! It’s dark here. If you slip, you’ll fall in the river.

SOLDIER

Would be the best thing, perhaps.

GIRL

Sh-h. Wait a minute. We’ll come to a bench soon.

SOLDIER

You seem to know this place pretty well.

GIRL

I’d like to have you for a sweetheart.

SOLDIER

I’d fight too much.

GIRL

I’d cure you of that soon enough.

SOLDIER

Humph—

GIRL

Don’t make so much noise. Sometimes a guard stumbles down here. Would

you believe we are in the middle of Vienna?

SOLDIER

Come here. Come over here.

GIRL

You are crazy! If we slipped here, we’d fall into the river.

SOLDIER

(_Has grabbed her_) Oh you—

GIRL

Hold tight to me.

SOLDIER

Don’t be afraid…

* * * * *

GIRL

It would have been nicer on the bench.

SOLDIER

Here or there, it doesn’t matter to me… Well, pick yourself up.

GIRL

What’s your hurry—?

SOLDIER

I must get to the barracks. I’ll be late anyhow.

GIRL

Say, what’s your name?

SOLDIER

What’s that to you?

GIRL

My name is Leocadia.

SOLDIER

Humph! I never heard such a name before.

GIRL

Listen!

SOLDIER

Well, what do you want?

GIRL

Give me just a dime for the janitor.

SOLDIER

Humph!… Do you think I’m your meal-ticket? Good-by, Leocadia…

GIRL

Tightwad! Pimp!

(_He disappears_)

THE SOLDIER AND THE PARLOR-MAID

_Prater Gardens. Sunday Evening. A road which leads from the

Wurstelprater[1] into dark tree arcades. Confused music from the

Wurstelprater can still be heard; also strains from the cheap

dancehall, a vulgar polka, played by a brass band. THE SOLDIER.

THE PARLOR-MAID._

MAID

Now tell me why you wanted to leave.

SOLDIER

(_Grins sheepishly_)

MAID

It was so beautiful and I so love to dance.

SOLDIER

(_Puts his arm around her waist_)

MAID

(_Submitting_) But we aren’t dancing now. Why do you hold me so tight?

SOLDIER

What’s your name? Katy?

MAID

You’ve always got a “Katy” on your mind.

SOLDIER

I know—I know … Marie.

MAID

Goodness, it’s dark here. I’m afraid.

SOLDIER

You needn’t be afraid when I’m with you. I can take care of myself!

MAID

But where are we going? There’s no one around. Come, let’s go back!…

It’s so dark!

SOLDIER

(_Pulling at his cigar until it glows brightly_) There … it’s already

getting brighter. Ha—! Oh, you dearie!

MAID

Oh! what are you doing there? If I had known this before!

SOLDIER

The devil take me, if any one at the dance to-day felt softer and

rounder than you, Miss Marie.

MAID

Did you find it out in the same way with all the others?

SOLDIER

You notice things … dancing. You find out lots that way!

MAID

But you danced much oftener with that cross-eyed blonde than with me.

SOLDIER

She’s an old friend of one of my pals.

MAID

Of the corporal with the upturned mustache?

SOLDIER

Oh no, I mean the civilian. You know, the one who was talking with me

at the table in the beginning. The one who has such a husky voice.

MAID

Oh I know. He’s fresh.

SOLDIER

Did he do anything to you? I’ll show him! What did he do to you?

MAID

Oh nothing… I only noticed how he was with the others.

SOLDIER

Tell me, Miss Marie…

MAID

You’ll burn me with your cigar.

SOLDIER

Pardon me!—Miss Marie—or may I say Marie?

MAID

We’re not such good friends yet…

SOLDIER

There’re many who don’t like each-other, and yet use first names.

MAID

Next time, if we… But, Frank!

SOLDIER

Oh, you remember my name?

MAID

But, Frank…

SOLDIER

That’s right, call me Frank, Miss Marie.

MAID

Don’t be so fresh—but, sh-h, suppose some one should come!

SOLDIER

What if some one did come? They couldn’t see anything two steps off.

MAID

For goodness’ sake, where are we going?

SOLDIER

Look! There’s two just like us.

MAID

Where? I don’t see anything.

SOLDIER

There … just ahead of us.

MAID

Why do you say: “two like us”—

SOLDIER

Well, I mean, they like each other too.

MAID

Look out! What’s that there? I nearly fell.

SOLDIER

Oh, that’s the meadow-gate.

MAID

Don’t shove me so. I’ll fall.

SOLDIER

Sh-h, not so loud.

MAID

Stop! Now I’m really going to scream—What are you doing?… Stop now—

SOLDIER

There’s no one anywhere around.

MAID

Then, let’s go back where the people are.

SOLDIER

We don’t need them. Why—Marie, we need … for that…

MAID

Stop, Frank, please, for Heaven’s sake! Listen to me, if I had … known

… oh … come!

* * * * *

SOLDIER

(_Blissfully_) Once more… Oh…

MAID

… I can’t see your face at all.

SOLDIER

Don’t matter—my face…

* * * * *

SOLDIER

Well, Miss Marie, you can’t stay here on the grass all night.

MAID

Please, Frank, help me.

SOLDIER

Oh, come along.

MAID

Oh, Lord help me, Frank.

SOLDIER

Well, what’s the matter with me?

MAID

You’re a bad man, Frank.

SOLDIER

Yes, yes. Say, wait a minute.

MAID

Why do you leave me alone?

SOLDIER

Can’t you let me light my cigar!

MAID

It’s so dark.

SOLDIER

It’ll be light again to-morrow morning.

MAID

Tell me, at least, you love me.

SOLDIER

Well, you must have felt that, Miss Marie!

MAID

Where are we going now?

SOLDIER

Back, of course.

MAID

Please, don’t walk so fast.

SOLDIER

Well, what’s wrong? I don’t like to walk around in the dark.

MAID

Tell me, Frank … do you love me?

SOLDIER

But I just told you that I loved you!

MAID

Won’t you give me a little kiss?

SOLDIER

(_Condescendingly_) There… Listen—There’s the music again.

MAID

Would you really like to go back, and dance again?

SOLDIER

Of course, why not?

MAID

But, Frank, see, I have to get home. Madame will scold me anyway,—she’s

cranky … she’d like it best if I never went out.

SOLDIER

Well, you can go home.

MAID

But, I thought, Frank, you’d take me home.

SOLDIER

Take you home? Oh!

MAID

Please, it’s so sad to go home alone.

SOLDIER

Where do you live?

MAID

Not very far—in Porzellanstrasse.

SOLDIER

So? Then we go the same way … but it’s still too early for me … me for

the dance… I’ve got late leave to-day… I don’t need to be back at the

barracks before twelve o’clock. I’m going to dance.

MAID

Oh, I see, now it’s that cross-eyed blonde’s turn.

SOLDIER

Humph!—Her face isn’t so bad.

MAID

Oh Lord, how wicked men are. I’m sure you do the same to every one.

SOLDIER

That’d be too much!—

MAID

Please, Frank, no more to-day—stay with me to-day, you see—

SOLDIER

Oh, very well, all right. But I suppose I may dance.

MAID

I’m not going to dance with any one else to-night.

SOLDIER

There it is already…

MAID

What?

SOLDIER

The hall! How quick we got back. They’re still playing the same thing …

that tatata-tum tatata-tum (_He hums with the band_)… Well, I’ll take

you home, if you want to wait for me … if not … good-by—

MAID

Yes, I’ll wait.

(_They enter the dancehall_)

SOLDIER

Say, Miss Marie, get yourself a glass of beer. (_Turning to a blonde

who is just dancing past him in the arms of another, very formally_)

Miss, may I ask for a dance?—

THE PARLOR MAID AND THE YOUNG MAN

_Sultry summer afternoon. The parents of the YOUNG MAN are away in

the country. The cook has gone out. The PARLOR-MAID is in the kitchen

writing a letter to the soldier who is now her sweetheart. The YOUNG

MAN’S bell rings. She gets up and goes to his room. The YOUNG MAN is

lying on a couch, smoking a cigarette and reading a French novel._

MAID

Yes, Sir?

YOUNG MAN

Oh, yes, Marie, oh, yes; I rang, yes … I only wanted … yes, of course…

Oh, yes, of course, let the blinds down, Marie… It’s cooler with the

blinds down … yes…

(_The MAID goes to the window and pulls down the blinds_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Continues reading_) What are you doing, Marie? Oh, yes. But, now, I

can’t see to read.

MAID

You are always so studious, Sir.

YOUNG MAN

(_Ignoring the remark_) There, that’s better.

(_MARIE goes._)

YOUNG MAN

(_Tries to go on with his reading, lets the book fall, and rings again_)

MAID

(_Enters_)

YOUNG MAN

I say, Marie … let’s see, what was it I wanted to say? … oh, yes… Is

there any cognac in the house?

MAID

Yes, but it’s locked up.

YOUNG MAN

Well, who has the key?

MAID

Lini.

YOUNG MAN

Who is Lini?

MAID

The cook, Mr. Alfred.

YOUNG MAN

Well, then ask Lini for it.

MAID

Yes, but it’s Lini’s day out.

YOUNG MAN

So…

MAID

Can I get anything for you from the café, Sir?

YOUNG MAN

Thank you, no… It is hot enough as it is. I don’t need any cognac.

Listen, Marie, bring me a glass of water. Wait, Marie,—let it run, till

it gets quite cold.

_Exit MAID. The YOUNG MAN gazes after her. At the door the MAID looks

back at him, and the YOUNG MAN glances into the air. The MAID turns on

the water and lets it run. Meanwhile, she goes into her room, washes

her hands, and arranges her curls before the mirror. Then she brings

the glass of water to the YOUNG MAN. She approaches the couch. The

YOUNG MAN raises himself upon his elbow. The MAID gives him the glass

of water and their fingers touch._

YOUNG MAN

Thank you—Well, what is the matter?—Be careful. Put the glass back on

the tray. (_He leans back, and stretches himself_) How late is it?

MAID

Five o’clock, Sir.

YOUNG MAN

Ah, five o’clock.—That’s fine.—

MAID

(_Goes. At the door she turns around. The YOUNG MAN has followed her

with his eyes; she notices it, and smiles_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Remains stretched out awhile; then, suddenly, he gets up. He walks

to the door, back again, and lies down on the couch. He again tries to

read. After a few moments, he rings once more._)

MAID

(_Appears with a smile which she does not try to hide_)

YOUNG MAN

Listen, Marie, there was something I wanted to ask you. Didn’t Dr.

Schueller call this morning?

MAID

No, Sir, nobody called this morning.

YOUNG MAN

That is strange. Then, Dr. Schueller didn’t call. Do you know Dr.

Schueller by sight?

MAID

Of course, I do. He’s the big gentleman with the black beard.

YOUNG MAN

Yes. Then, perhaps, he called after all?

MAID

No, Sir. Nobody called.

YOUNG MAN

(_Resolutely_) Come here, Marie.

MAID

(_Coming a little nearer_) Yes, Sir.

YOUNG MAN

Still nearer … so … ah … I only thought…

MAID

Do you want anything, Sir?

YOUNG MAN

I thought… Well, I thought—only about your blouse … what kind of a

blouse is it … can’t you come closer. I won’t bite you.

MAID

(_Comes close to him_) What is the matter with my blouse? Don’t you

like it, Sir?

YOUNG MAN

(_Takes hold of her blouse, and draws her down to him_) Blue? It is a

nice blue. (_Simply_) You are very prettily dressed, Marie.

MAID

But, Sir…

YOUNG MAN

Ah… What is the matter?… (_He has opened her blouse. In a matter of

fact tone_) You have a beautiful white skin, Marie.

MAID

You are flattering me, Sir.

YOUNG MAN

(_Kissing her on the breast_) That can’t hurt you.

MAID

Oh, no.

YOUNG MAN

But you sigh so. Why are you sighing?

MAID

Oh, Mr. Alfred…

YOUNG MAN

And what charming little slippers you have…

MAID

… But … Sir … if the doorbell should ring.—

YOUNG MAN

Who will ring now?

MAID

But, Sir … look … it is so light…

YOUNG MAN

You needn’t feel at all shy with me. You needn’t feel shy with anybody

… any one as pretty as you. Yes, really, you are, Marie… Do you know

your hair actually smells sweet.

MAID

Mr. Alfred…

YOUNG MAN

Don’t make such a fuss, Marie… Anyway, I’ve already seen you otherwise.

When I came home the other night and went to get some water, the door

to your room was open … well…

MAID

(_Covering her face_) Oh, my, I didn’t know that Mr. Alfred could be so

wicked.

YOUNG MAN

I _saw_ lots then … _that_ … and _that_ … that … and—

MAID

Oh, Mr. Alfred!

YOUNG MAN

Come, come … here … so—that’s it…

MAID

But if the doorbell should ring now—

YOUNG MAN

Now forget that … we simply wouldn’t open the door.

* * * * *

(_The bell rings_)

YOUNG MAN

Confound it… What a noise that fellow makes—Perhaps he rang before, and

we didn’t notice it.

MAID

Oh, no. I was listening all the while.

YOUNG MAN

Well, see what’s the matter. Peek through the curtains.

MAID

Mr. Alfred … you are … no … such a bad man.

YOUNG MAN

Please go and see…

(_Exit MAID_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Opens the blinds quickly_)

MAID

(_Returns_) He must have gone away again. Anyway, no one is there now.

Perhaps, it was Dr. Schueller.

YOUNG MAN

(_Annoyed_) Thank you.

MAID

(_Drawing close to him_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Evading her_) Listen, Marie,—I’m going to the café now.

MAID

(_Tenderly_) So soon … Mr. Alfred.

YOUNG MAN

(_Formally_) I am going to the café now… If Dr. Schueller should call—

MAID

He won’t come any more to-day.

YOUNG MAN

(_Severely_) If Dr. Schueller should come, I—I am in the café.

(_He goes to the adjoining room. The MAID takes a cigar from the

smoking-stand, puts it in her blouse and goes out._)

THE YOUNG MAN AND THE YOUNG WIFE

_Evening—A drawing-room furnished with cheap elegance in a house in

Schwind street. The YOUNG MAN has just come in; and, still wearing

his hat and overcoat, he lights the gas. Then he opens a door to a

side-room and looks in. The light from the drawing-room shimmers over

the inlaid floor as far as the Louis Quinze bed, which stands against

the opposite wall. A reddish light plays from the fire-place in the

corner of the bedroom upon the hangings of the bed. The YOUNG MAN now

inspects the bedroom. He takes an atomizer from the dressing-table,

and sprays the bed-pillows with a fine rain of violet perfume. Then

he carries the atomizer through both rooms, constantly pressing upon

the bulb, so that soon the odor of violets pervades the place. He then

takes off his hat and coat. He sits down in a blue velvet armchair,

lights a cigarette, and smokes. After a short pause he rises again, and

makes sure that the green shutters are closed. Suddenly, he goes into

the bedroom, and opens a drawer in the dressing-table. He puts his hand

in it, and finds a tortoise-shell hair-pin. He looks for a place to

hide it, and finally puts it into a pocket of his overcoat. He opens

the buffet in the drawing-room; takes a silver tray, with a bottle and

two liqueur glasses, and puts them on the table. He goes back to his

overcoat, and takes from it a small white package. Opening this, he

places it beside the cognac. He goes again to the buffet, and takes two

small plates and knives and forks. He takes a candied chestnut from

the package and eats it. Then he pours himself a glass of cognac, and

drinks it quickly. He then looks at his watch. He walks up and down

the room. He stops a while before a large mirror, ordering his hair

and small mustache with a pocket-comb. He next goes to the door of the

vestibule and listens. Nothing is stirring. Then he closes the blue

portières, which hang before the bedroom. The bell rings. He starts

slightly. Then he sits down in the armchair, and rises only when the

door has been opened and the YOUNG WIFE enters._

YOUNG WIFE

(_Heavily veiled, closes the door behind her, pausing a moment with her

left hand over her heart, as though mastering a strong emotion_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Goes toward her, takes her left hand, and presses a kiss on the

white glove with black stitching. He says softly._) Thank you.

YOUNG WIFE

Alfred—Alfred!

YOUNG MAN

Come, Madame… Come, Emma…

YOUNG WIFE

Let me be for a minute—please … oh, please, please, Alfred!

(_She is still standing at the door_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Standing before her, holding her hand_)

YOUNG WIFE

Where am I?

YOUNG MAN

With me.

YOUNG WIFE

This house is terrible, Alfred.

YOUNG MAN

Why terrible? It is a very proper house.

YOUNG WIFE

But I met two gentlemen on the staircase.

YOUNG MAN

Acquaintances of yours?

YOUNG WIFE

I don’t know. It’s possible.

YOUNG MAN

But, Madame—You surely know your friends!

YOUNG WIFE

I couldn’t see their faces.

YOUNG MAN

But even had they been your best friends—they couldn’t possibly have

recognized you… I, myself … if I didn’t know it was you … this veil—

YOUNG WIFE

There are two.

YOUNG MAN

Won’t you come closer?… And take off your hat, at least?

YOUNG WIFE

What are you thinking of, Alfred? I promised you: Five minutes… Not a

moment more … I swear it, no more—

YOUNG MAN

Well, then, your veil—

YOUNG WIFE

There are two of them.

YOUNG MAN

Very well, both of them—you will at least let me see your face.

YOUNG WIFE

Do you really love me, Alfred?

YOUNG MAN

(_Deeply hurt_) Emma! You ask me…

YOUNG WIFE

It’s so warm here.

YOUNG MAN

You’re still wearing your fur-coat—really, you will catch cold.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Finally enters the room, and throws herself into the armchair_) I’m

tired—dead tired.

YOUNG MAN

Permit me.

(_He takes off her veil, removes her hat-pin, and puts hat, pin, and

veil aside_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Permits it_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Stands before her, and shakes his head_)

YOUNG WIFE

What is the matter?

YOUNG MAN

You’ve never been so beautiful.

YOUNG WIFE

How is that?

YOUNG MAN

Alone … alone with you—Emma—

(_He kneels down beside her chair, takes both her hands, and covers

them with kisses_)

YOUNG WIFE

And now … now let me go again. I have done what you asked me to do.

YOUNG MAN

(_Lets his head sink into her lap_)

YOUNG WIFE

You promised me to be good.

YOUNG MAN

Yes.

YOUNG WIFE

It is stifling hot in this room.

YOUNG MAN

(_Gets up_) You still have your coat on.

YOUNG WIFE

Put it with my hat.

YOUNG MAN

(_Takes off her coat, and puts it on the sofa_)

YOUNG WIFE

And now—good-by—

YOUNG MAN

Emma—! Emma—!

YOUNG WIFE

The five minutes are long past.

YOUNG MAN

Not one yet!—

YOUNG WIFE

Alfred, tell me truly now, how late it is.

YOUNG MAN

It is now exactly a quarter past six.

YOUNG WIFE

I should have been at my sister’s long ago.

YOUNG MAN

You can see your sister any time…

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, Merciful Heaven, Alfred, why did you tempt me to come?

YOUNG MAN

Because … I adore you, Emma!

YOUNG WIFE

To how many have you said the same thing?

YOUNG MAN

Since I met you, to no one.

YOUNG WIFE

What a foolish woman I am! If anybody had predicted … just a week ago …

or even yesterday…

YOUNG MAN

But you had already promised me the day before yesterday.

YOUNG WIFE

You plagued me so. But I didn’t want to do it. God is my witness—I

didn’t want to do it… Yesterday, I was firmly decided… Do you know I

even wrote you a long letter last night?

YOUNG MAN

I didn’t receive any.

YOUNG WIFE

I tore it up later. Oh, if only I had sent it to you.

YOUNG MAN

It is better as it is.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, no, it’s awful … of me. I don’t understand myself. Good-by, Alfred,

let me go.

YOUNG MAN

(_Seizes her, and covers her face with burning kisses_)

YOUNG WIFE

So … is that the way you keep your word…

YOUNG MAN

One more kiss—one more.

YOUNG WIFE

The last.

(_He kisses her, and she returns the kiss; their lips remain joined for

a long time_)

YOUNG MAN

Shall I tell you something, Emma? It is now for the first time that I

know what happiness is.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Sinks back into the armchair_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Sits on the arm of the chair, and puts one arm lightly about her

neck_) … or rather, I know now what happiness might be.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Sighs deeply_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Kisses her again_)

YOUNG WIFE

Alfred—Alfred, what are you doing to me!

YOUNG MAN

Wasn’t I right?—It isn’t so awfully uncomfortable here… And we are so

safe here. It’s a thousand times better than those meetings outdoors…

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, don’t remind me of them.

YOUNG MAN

I shall always recall them with a thousand delights. Every minute you

have let me spend with you is a sweet memory.

YOUNG WIFE

Do you remember the ball at the Manufacturers’ Club?

YOUNG MAN

Do I remember it…? I sat beside you through the whole supper—quite

close to you. Your husband had champagne…

YOUNG WIFE

(_Looks at him with a hurt expression_)

YOUNG MAN

I meant to speak only of the champagne. Emma, would you like a glass of

cognac?

YOUNG WIFE

Only a drop, but first give me a glass of water.

YOUNG MAN

Surely… But where is—oh, yes, I remember…

(_He opens the portières, and goes into the bedroom_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Follows him with her eyes_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Comes back with a water-bottle and two glasses_)

YOUNG WIFE

Where have you been?

YOUNG MAN

In … the adjoining room.

(_Pours her a glass of water_)

YOUNG WIFE

Now I’m going to ask you something, Alfred—and you must tell me the

truth.

YOUNG MAN

I swear—

YOUNG WIFE

Has there ever been any other woman in these rooms?

YOUNG MAN

But, Emma—this house was built twenty years ago!—

YOUNG WIFE

You know what I mean, Alfred … in these rooms, with you!

YOUNG MAN

With me—here—Emma!—It’s not kind of you even to imagine such a thing.

YOUNG WIFE

Then there was … how shall I… But, no, I’d rather not ask. It is

better that I shouldn’t ask. It’s my own fault. Every fault has its

punishment.

YOUNG MAN

But what is wrong? What is the matter with you? What fault?

YOUNG WIFE

No, no, no, I mustn’t think… Otherwise I would sink through the floor

with shame.

YOUNG MAN

(_With the water-bottle in his hand, shakes his head sadly_) Emma, if

you only knew how you hurt me.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Pours a glass of cognac_)

YOUNG MAN

I want to tell you something, Emma. If you’re ashamed of being here—if

you don’t care for me—if you don’t feel you are all the happiness in

the world for me—then you’d better go.—

YOUNG WIFE

Yes, I shall go.

YOUNG MAN

(_Taking hold of her hand_) But if you feel that I cannot live without

you, that a kiss upon your hand means more to me than all the caresses

of all the women in the whole world… Emma, I’m not like other young

men, who are experienced in love-making—perhaps, I am too naïve … I…

YOUNG WIFE

But suppose you were like other young men?

YOUNG MAN

Then you wouldn’t be here to-night—because you are not like other women.

YOUNG WIFE

How do you know that?

YOUNG MAN

(_Drawing her close beside him on the sofa_)

I have thought a lot about it. I know you are unhappy.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Pleased_) Yes.

YOUNG MAN

Life is so dreary, so empty—and then,—so short—so horribly short! There

is only one happiness—to find some one who loves you.—

YOUNG WIFE

(_Takes a candied pear from the table, and puts it into her mouth_)

YOUNG MAN

Give me half of it!

(_She offers it to him with her lips_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Catches the hands of the Young Man that threaten to stray_) What are

you doing, Alfred?… Is that the way you keep your promise?

YOUNG MAN

(_Swallows the pear, then, more daringly_) Life is so short.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Weakly_) But that’s no reason—

YOUNG MAN

(_Mechanically_) Oh, yes.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Still more weakly_) Alfred, you promised to be good … and then it’s

so light…

YOUNG MAN

Come, come, you only, only…

(_He lifts her from the sofa_)

YOUNG WIFE

What are you doing?

YOUNG MAN

It’s not so light in the other room.

YOUNG WIFE

Is there another room?

YOUNG MAN

(_Drawing her with him_) A beautiful one … and quite dark.

YOUNG WIFE

We’d better stay in here.

YOUNG MAN

(_Already past the bedroom portières with her, loosening her waist_)

YOUNG WIFE

You are so… O merciful Heaven, what are you doing with me!—Alfred!

YOUNG MAN

I adore you, Emma!

YOUNG WIFE

So then wait, wait a little… (_Weakly_) Go… I’ll call you.

YOUNG MAN

Let you help me—let us help you (_becoming confused_) … let …

me—help—you.

YOUNG WIFE

But you’ll tear everything.

YOUNG MAN

You have no corset on?

YOUNG WIFE

I never wear a corset. Odilon[2] doesn’t wear any either. But you can

unbutton my shoes.

YOUNG MAN

(_Unbuttons her shoes and kisses her feet_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Slips into bed_) Oh, how cold it is.

YOUNG MAN

It’ll be warm in a minute.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Laughing softly_) Do you think so?

YOUNG MAN

(_Slightly hurt, to himself_) She ought not to have said that.

(_He undresses in the dark_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Tenderly_) Come, come, come!

YOUNG MAN

(_Mollified_) In a minute, dear—

YOUNG WIFE

It smells like violets here.

YOUNG MAN

That’s you… Yes (_To her_) you, yourself.

YOUNG WIFE

Alfred… Alfred!!!!

YOUNG MAN

Emma…

* * * * *

YOUNG MAN

Apparently I love you too much … yes… I am as if out of my senses.

YOUNG WIFE

… …

YOUNG MAN

I have been beside myself all these days. I was afraid of this.

YOUNG WIFE

Don’t mind.

YOUNG MAN

Oh, certainly not. It’s perfectly natural, if one…

YOUNG WIFE

No … don’t… You are nervous. Calm yourself first.

YOUNG MAN

Do you know Stendhal?

YOUNG WIFE

Stendhal?

YOUNG MAN

The “Psychologie de l’amour.”

YOUNG WIFE

No. Why do you ask me?

YOUNG MAN

There’s a story in that book which is very much to the point.

YOUNG WIFE

What kind of a story?

YOUNG MAN

There is a gathering of cavalry officers—

YOUNG WIFE

Yes.

YOUNG MAN

And they are telling each other about their love affairs. And each one

of them tells that with the woman he loved best—most passionately, you

know … that with him, that then—well, in short, that the same thing

happened just as it happened to me now.

YOUNG WIFE

Yes.

YOUNG MAN

That is very characteristic.

YOUNG WIFE

Yes.

YOUNG MAN

The story is not yet ended. One of them maintained … that this thing

had never in his life happened to him, but, adds Stendhal—he was known

as a great boaster.

YOUNG WIFE

And.—

YOUNG MAN

And, yet, it makes you feel blue—that’s the stupid side of it, even

though it’s so unimportant.

YOUNG WIFE

Of course. Anyway, you know … you promised me to be good.

YOUNG MAN

Sh-h! Don’t laugh. That doesn’t help things any.

YOUNG WIFE

But no, I’m not laughing. That story of Stendhal’s is really

interesting. I have always thought that only older people … or people

who … you know, people who have lived fast…

YOUNG MAN

The idea! That has nothing to do with it. By the way, I had completely

forgotten the prettiest of Stendhal’s stories. One of the cavalry

officers went so far as to say that he stayed for three or even six

nights… I don’t remember now—that is he stayed with a woman, whom he

wanted for weeks—_desirée_—you understand—and nothing happened all

those nights except that they wept for happiness … both…

YOUNG WIFE

Both?

YOUNG MAN

Yes. Does that surprise you? It seems very comprehensible—especially

when two people love each other.

YOUNG WIFE

But surely there are many who don’t weep.

YOUNG MAN

(_Nervously_) Certainly … however, that is an exceptional case.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh—I thought Stendhal said that all cavalry officers weep on such an

occasion.

YOUNG MAN

Look here, now you are laughing at me.

YOUNG WIFE

What an idea! Don’t be childish, Alfred.

YOUNG MAN

Well, it makes me nervous anyway… Besides I have the feeling that you

are thinking about it all the time. That embarrasses me still more.

YOUNG WIFE

I’m not thinking of it at all.

YOUNG MAN

If I were only sure that you love me.

YOUNG WIFE

Do you want still further proofs?

YOUNG MAN

Didn’t I tell you … you are always laughing at me.

YOUNG WIFE

How so? Come, let me hold your sweet little head.

YOUNG MAN

Oh, that feels so good.

YOUNG WIFE

Do you love me?

YOUNG MAN

Oh, I’m so happy.

YOUNG WIFE

But you needn’t cry about it.

YOUNG MAN

(_Moving away from her, highly irritated_) There! Again! I begged you

not to…

YOUNG WIFE

To tell you that you shouldn’t cry…

YOUNG MAN

You said: “You needn’t cry about it.”

YOUNG WIFE

You are nervous, sweetheart.

YOUNG MAN

I know.

YOUNG WIFE

But you ought not to be. It is beautiful even that … that we are

together like good comrades…

YOUNG MAN

Now you are beginning again.

YOUNG WIFE

Don’t you remember! That was one of our first talks. We wanted to be

comrades, nothing more. Oh, how nice that was … at my sister’s ball in

January, during the quadrille… For heaven’s sake, I should have gone

long ago… My sister expects me—what shall I tell her… Good-by, Alfred—

YOUNG MAN

Emma!—You will leave me in this way!

YOUNG WIFE

Yes—so!—

YOUNG MAN

Five minutes more…

YOUNG WIFE

All right. Five minutes more. But you must promise me … not to move?…

Yes?… I want to give you a good-by kiss… Psst … be still … don’t move,

I told you, otherwise I’ll get up at once, you, my sweetheart, sweet…

YOUNG MAN

Emma … my ador… …

* * * * *

YOUNG WIFE

My Alfred!

YOUNG MAN

Oh, it is heaven to be with you.

YOUNG WIFE

But now I’ve really got to go.

YOUNG MAN

Oh, let your sister wait.

YOUNG WIFE

I must go home. It is much too late to see my sister. How late is it?

YOUNG MAN

How should I know?

YOUNG WIFE

You might look at your watch.

YOUNG MAN

My watch is in my waistcoat.

YOUNG WIFE

Get it.

YOUNG MAN

(_Gets up with a jump_) Eight o’clock.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Jumps up quickly_) For heaven’s sake… Quick, Alfred, give me my

stockings. What shall I say? They must be waiting for me at home …

eight o’clock…

YOUNG MAN

When shall I see you again?

YOUNG WIFE

Never.

YOUNG MAN

Emma! Don’t you love me any more?

YOUNG WIFE

Just for that reason. Give me my shoes.

YOUNG MAN

Never again? Here are your shoes.

YOUNG WIFE

My button-hook is in my bag. Please, be quick…

YOUNG MAN

Here is the button-hook.

YOUNG WIFE

Alfred, this may cost us our lives.

YOUNG MAN

(_Unpleasantly moved_) In what way?

YOUNG WIFE

What shall I say, if he asks me where I’ve been?

YOUNG MAN

At your sister’s.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, if I only could lie.

YOUNG MAN

Well, you’ll have to.

YOUNG WIFE

Everything for a man like you. Oh, come here … let me give you a last

kiss. (_She embraces him_)—And now—leave me by myself, go in the other

room.—I can’t dress, if you are around.

YOUNG MAN

(_Goes into the drawing-room, where he dresses. He eats some pastry and

drinks a glass of cognac_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Calls after a while_) Alfred!

YOUNG MAN

Yes, sweetheart.

YOUNG WIFE

Isn’t it better that we didn’t weep?

YOUNG MAN

(_Smiling, not without pride_) How can you talk so frivolously?—

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, how difficult it will be now—if we should meet by chance in company?

YOUNG MAN

By chance?—sometime?… Surely you are coming to Lobheimer’s to-morrow?

YOUNG WIFE

Yes. You too?

YOUNG MAN

Of course. May I ask for the cotillion?

YOUNG WIFE

Oh, I shall not go. What do you imagine?—I would… (_She enters the

drawing-room fully dressed, and takes a piece of chocolate pastry_)

sink through the floor.

YOUNG MAN

To-morrow at Lobheimer’s. That’s fine.

YOUNG WIFE

No, no… I shall decline … certainly decline—

YOUNG MAN

Well, the day after to-morrow … here.

YOUNG WIFE

The idea!

YOUNG MAN

At six…

YOUNG WIFE

There are cabs at this corner, aren’t there?

YOUNG MAN

Yes, as many as you want. Well, the day after to-morrow, here at six

o’clock. Please say “yes,” sweetheart.

YOUNG WIFE

… We’ll discuss that to-morrow night during the cotillion.

YOUNG MAN

(_Embracing her_) My angel.

YOUNG WIFE

Don’t muss my hair again.

YOUNG MAN

Well then, to-morrow night at Lobheimer’s, and the day after to-morrow

in my arms.

YOUNG WIFE

Good-by…

YOUNG MAN

(_Suddenly anxious again_) And what will you—tell him to-night?—

YOUNG WIFE

Don’t ask me … don’t ask me … it’s too terrible.—Why do I love you

so?—Good-by—If I meet any one again on the stairway, I shall faint.—Ugh!

YOUNG MAN

(_Kisses her hand for the last time_)

YOUNG WIFE

(_Exit_)

YOUNG MAN

(_Remains standing. Then he sits down on the couch. He smiles

reflectively, and says to himself_) Now, at last, I have an affair with

a respectable woman.

THE YOUNG WIFE AND THE HUSBAND

_A comfortable bedroom. It is half past ten at night. The WIFE is lying

abed and reading. The HUSBAND enters the room in a dressing gown._

YOUNG WIFE

(_Without looking up_) You have stopped working?

HUSBAND

Yes. I’m too tired. And besides…

YOUNG WIFE

Well?—

HUSBAND

I felt so lonely at my desk all at once. A longing for you came over me.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Looking up_) Really?

HUSBAND

(_Sitting down on the bed beside her_) Don’t read any more to-night.

You will ruin your eyes.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Closing the book_) What’s the matter with you?

HUSBAND

Nothing, child. I’m in love with you. But you know that.

YOUNG WIFE

One might almost forget it sometimes.

HUSBAND

One _must_ forget it sometimes.

YOUNG WIFE

Why?

HUSBAND

Because, otherwise, marriage would be something imperfect. It would …

how shall I express it … it would lose its sanctity.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh…

HUSBAND

Believe me—it is so… If we hadn’t sometimes forgotten that we are in

love with each other during the five years we have been married—we

might not be in love any longer.

YOUNG WIFE

That’s beyond me.

HUSBAND

The case is simply this. We have had perhaps ten or twelve

love-affairs with each other… Doesn’t it seem that way to you, too?

YOUNG WIFE

I haven’t counted them!

HUSBAND

If we had enjoyed the first one to the last drop, if I had from the

very beginning surrendered without restraint to my passion for you, the

same thing would have happened to us that has happened to millions of

other lovers. We would be tired of each other.

YOUNG WIFE

Ah … do you mean that?

HUSBAND

Believe me—Emma—in the early days of our marriage, I was afraid that

this would happen.

YOUNG WIFE

I, too.

HUSBAND

See? Am I not right? Therefore, it is wise every now and then to live

only as good friends.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh.

HUSBAND

And some can always experience new honeymoons, especially since I am

careful never to let such weeks of honeymoon…

YOUNG WIFE

Run into months.

HUSBAND

That is true.

YOUNG WIFE

And now … now it seems we are at the end of another such period of

friendship—?

HUSBAND

(_Pressing her tenderly to him_) So it might seem.

YOUNG WIFE

But if … if I should feel differently?

HUSBAND

You couldn’t. You are the wisest and most delicious being in the world.

I am very happy to have found you.

YOUNG WIFE

You know how to make love very well—every now and then.

HUSBAND

(_Who has also gone to bed_) Well, for a man who has looked about

in the world a bit—come, lay your head on my shoulder—who has seen

something of the world, marriage is really something much more

mysterious than it is for you sheltered young girls. You come to us

entirely innocent and … to a certain degree, at least, ignorant of

things, and therefore you really understand the essence of love much

better than we.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Laughing_) Oh!

HUSBAND

Certainly. For we get all tangled up by the many experiences that we

have to go through before marriage. You women, of course, hear a lot

of things, you know a lot of things, no doubt read too much, but you

can’t have any real idea of the things men experience. We men really

become quite disgusted with this thing people call love, for the kind

of creatures to which we are restricted really are…

YOUNG WIFE

Tell me—what kind of creatures are they?

HUSBAND

(_Kissing her on the forehead_) You ought to be glad, dear child, that

you never have had a glimpse of relations like that. After all most of

the poor things deserve pity—it is not for us to throw stones.

YOUNG WIFE

But—this pity—it doesn’t seem quite appropriate to me.

HUSBAND

(_With gentle benevolence_) They deserve it. You young girls of good

family, who wait quietly under the care of your parents for the man who

desires you in marriage,—you won’t know the misery that drives most of

these poor creatures into the arms of sin.

YOUNG WIFE

Do all of them really sell themselves?

HUSBAND

I would hardly say that. I don’t mean the material misery alone. There

is also—one might call it—a moral misery, a lack of appreciation for

what is permissible, and, especially, for what is noble.

YOUNG WIFE

But why are they to be pitied?—They seem to enjoy themselves.

HUSBAND

You have strange ideas, my child. You must not forget that such people

are predestined by nature to sink lower and lower. There is no stopping

them.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Cuddling to him_) It seems pleasant to fall.

HUSBAND

(_Hurt_) How can you say things like that, Emma? I should think that to

good women like you, nothing could be more repulsive than those who are

not!

YOUNG WIFE

Of course, Karl, of course. I was just thinking. Go on, tell me more. I

like it when you talk like this. Tell me something.

HUSBAND

What?—

YOUNG WIFE

Why—about these people.

HUSBAND

The idea!

YOUNG WIFE

But, I asked you a long time ago—you know, when we were first married

to tell me something of your younger days.

HUSBAND

Why does that interest you?

YOUNG WIFE

Aren’t you my husband? Isn’t it a sort of injustice that I really know

nothing about your past?

HUSBAND

You surely don’t think I have such bad taste, as to—No, Emma … it would

be like a profanation.

YOUNG WIFE

And yet you have … heaven knows how many other women you have held in

your arms, just as you are holding me now.

HUSBAND

Don’t say “women.” You are _the_ woman.

YOUNG WIFE

But you must answer one question … otherwise … otherwise … there won’t

be any honeymoon.

HUSBAND

That’s a nice way to talk … remember you are a mother … our little girl

is sleeping in there…

YOUNG WIFE

(_Snuggling against him_) But I want a boy, too.

HUSBAND

Emma!

YOUNG WIFE

Don’t be silly … of course, I am your wife … but I’d like also to be …

to be your sweetheart.

HUSBAND

Would you?…

YOUNG WIFE

Well—now my question.

HUSBAND

(_Accommodating_) All right.

YOUNG WIFE

Was there … a married woman … amongst them?

HUSBAND

Why? What do you mean?

YOUNG WIFE

You know what I mean.

HUSBAND

(_Slightly disconcerted_) What makes you think of a thing like that?

YOUNG WIFE

I would like to know if … I mean—there are such women… I know that very

well. But did you?…

HUSBAND

(_Seriously_) Do you know such a woman?

YOUNG WIFE

Well, I hardly know.

HUSBAND

Is there, perhaps, such a woman among your friends?

YOUNG WIFE

How can I be sure that there is—or that there isn’t?

HUSBAND

Did any of your friends … women talk about a lot of things—alone among

themselves—did any of them ever confess—?

YOUNG WIFE

(_Uncertainly_) No.

HUSBAND

Do you suspect any of your friends—that she…

YOUNG WIFE

Suspect … oh … suspect.

HUSBAND

It would seem so.

YOUNG WIFE

No, indeed, Karl, most certainly not. When I think things over—I don’t

believe there is any one.

HUSBAND

No one?

YOUNG WIFE

Not among my friends.

HUSBAND

Promise me something, Emma.

YOUNG WIFE

Well?

HUSBAND

That you will never associate with a woman about whom you have the

slightest suspicion that she … doesn’t lead a completely blameless life.

YOUNG WIFE

And you think it necessary for me to promise that?

HUSBAND

I know that you will not seek out the company of such women. But, it

might happen that you … in fact it often happens that such women, whose

reputations are not of the best, seek out good women, partly to give

them standing, and partly because they feel … how shall I say?… because

they feel a certain homesickness for virtue.

YOUNG WIFE

Do they?

HUSBAND

Yes. I believe what I just said is very true. Homesickness for virtue.

For all of these women are at heart very unhappy; you can believe that.

YOUNG WIFE

Why?

HUSBAND

You ask me, Emma?—How can you even ask?—Just imagine what a life these

women lead! Full of lies, perfidy, vulgarity, and danger.

YOUNG WIFE

Yes, of course. You are right.

HUSBAND

Truly … they pay for their little happiness … their little…

YOUNG WIFE

Pleasure.

HUSBAND

Why “pleasure”? Why do you call it “pleasure”?

YOUNG WIFE

Well,—there must be something in it—! Otherwise, they wouldn’t do it.

HUSBAND

It is nothing … an intoxication.

YOUNG WIFE

(_Pensively_) An intoxication…

HUSBAND

No, it is not even intoxication. Like everything—it is dearly paid for,

that much is certain.

YOUNG WIFE

Well … it has happened to you, hasn’t it?

HUSBAND

Yes, Emma.—And it is the thing I most regret.

YOUNG WIFE

Who was she? Tell me! Do I know her?

HUSBAND

The idea!

YOUNG WIFE

Was it long ago? Was it very long before you married me?

HUSBAND

Don’t ask me. Please, don’t ask.

YOUNG WIFE

But, Karl!

HUSBAND

She is dead.

YOUNG WIFE

Are you in earnest?

HUSBAND

Yes … it sounds almost ridiculous, but I have the feeling that all such

women die young.

YOUNG WIFE

Did you love her very much?

HUSBAND

One doesn’t love women who lie.

YOUNG WIFE

Then why…

HUSBAND

An intoxication…

YOUNG WIFE

Really?

HUSBAND

Don’t talk about it any more, please. All that is passed long ago. I

have only loved one woman—that is you. You only love where there is

purity and truth.

YOUNG WIFE

Karl!

HUSBAND

Oh, how secure, how happy one feels in such arms. Why didn’t I know you

as a child? I am sure I wouldn’t then even have looked at other women.

YOUNG WIFE

Karl!

HUSBAND

And how beautiful you are!… beautiful!… Oh, come…

(_He puts the light out_)

* * * * *

YOUNG WIFE

Do you know what I am thinking of to-night?

HUSBAND

What, sweetheart?

YOUNG WIFE

Of … of … of Venice.

HUSBAND

Our first night…

YOUNG WIFE

Yes…

HUSBAND

What then? Tell me!

YOUNG WIFE

You love me as much to-day.

HUSBAND

Yes, just as much.

YOUNG WIFE

Oh … if you would always…

HUSBAND

(_In her arms_) If I would what?

YOUNG WIFE

My Karl!

HUSBAND

What do you mean? If I would always?…

YOUNG WIFE

Well, yes.

HUSBAND

Well, what then, if I would always?…

YOUNG WIFE

Then I would always know that you love me.

HUSBAND

Yes. But you must know that anyway. One cannot always be a lover,

sometimes one has to go out into the cold world to struggle and

achieve! Don’t forget that, my child. There is a time for everything in

marriage—that is the beauty of it. There are not many who can remember

their Venice after five years.

YOUNG WIFE

True!

HUSBAND

And now … good-night, my child.

YOUNG WIFE

Good-night!

THE HUSBAND AND THE SWEET YOUNG MISS

_A private dining-room in the Riedhof, comfortably furnished with

moderately good taste. A gas-grate is burning. The HUSBAND and the

SWEET YOUNG MISS are disclosed. The remains of dinner are on the table,

cream-cakes, fruit, cheese. In the wine-glasses is a Hungarian white

wine._

HUSBAND

(_Is smoking a Havana cigar, and leaning against the corner of a sofa_)

MISS

Hands Around [Reigen]: A Cycle of Ten Dialogues · 第 1 / 4 段