something to you.—I’m not Biebitz, but Biebitz is a friend of mine.
I’ll introduce him to you sometime. Biebitz’s play will be given
Sunday. I’ll send you tickets, and take you home after the performance.
You will tell me then how you liked the play. Won’t you?
MISS
Here you are talking about this Biebitz again.—I don’t understand what
it is all about.
POET
I won’t know you really, until I know what impression the play made on
you.
MISS
Now … I’m ready.
POET
Come, sweetheart.
(_They go out_)
THE POET AND THE ACTRESS
_A room in an inn in the country. It is an evening in spring;
moonlight floods the meadows and hills; the windows are open. A deep
silence reigns. The POET and the ACTRESS enter, and as they cross the
threshold, the candle which the POET is carrying in his hand is blown
out._
POET
Oh…
ACTRESS
What’s the matter?
POET
The candle.—But we don’t need any. Look, how light it is. Wonderful!
ACTRESS
(_Sinks suddenly down at the window with her hands folded_)
POET
What’s the matter with you?
ACTRESS
(_Remains silent_)
POET
(_Going to her_) What are you doing?
ACTRESS
(_Indignant_) Can’t you see that I am praying?—
POET
Do you believe in God?
ACTRESS
Of course I do; I am not a fool.
POET
Oh, I see!
ACTRESS
Come, kneel down beside me. It will do you good to pray just once. None
of the gems will drop out of your crown.
POET
(_Kneels beside her, and puts his arm around her waist_)
ACTRESS
Libertine!—(_Rises_). And do you know to whom I prayed?
POET
To God, I suppose.
ACTRESS
(_With deep sarcasm_) Oh, of course! It was to you to whom I prayed.
POET
Then why did you look out of the window?
ACTRESS
Tell me rather where you have lured me.
POET
But, child, it was your idea. You wanted to go to the country—and
picked out this very place.
ACTRESS
Well, wasn’t I right?
POET
Certainly. It’s charming here. When you consider that we are just two
hours from Vienna—complete solitude. And delightful scenery!
ACTRESS
Isn’t it? If you had any real talent, this place might inspire you to
write.
POET
Have you been here before?
ACTRESS
Have I been here before? Indeed I have! I have lived here for years.
POET
With whom?
ACTRESS
With Dick, of course.
POET
Oh, really!
ACTRESS
How I adored that man!—
POET
You’ve told me all about that already.
ACTRESS
I am sorry—I can go away again, if I bore you!
POET
You bore me?… You can’t imagine what you mean to me… You are a whole
world in itself… You are divine, you are a genius… You are the
simplicity which is holy… Yes, you… But you oughtn’t to talk about Dick
now.
ACTRESS
That was merely a slip! Well!—
POET
I am glad that you feel that way.
ACTRESS
Come, give me a kiss!
POET
(_Kisses her_)
ACTRESS
But now we had better say good night. Good night, darling!
POET
What do you mean by that?
ACTRESS
I mean, I am going to lie down and go to sleep.
POET
Yes,—that’s very well, but when it comes to saying “good night” … where
do I sleep?
ACTRESS
There are surely a lot of other rooms in this house.
POET
But they don’t appeal to me. Don’t you think I had better light a
candle now?
ACTRESS
Yes.
POET
(_Lights a candle, which stands upon the dressing-table_) What a
charming room … and what pious people they must be. Pictures of saints
everywhere… It would be interesting to spend some time among people
like this … quite another world. How little we know of the lives of
others!
ACTRESS
Don’t talk nonsense, but just give me the bag from the table.
POET
Here, beloved!
ACTRESS
(_Takes a small framed picture out of the hand-bag and puts it on the
dressing-table_)
POET
What’s that?
ACTRESS
That’s the Virgin.
POET
Do you always carry her around with you?
ACTRESS
She is my talisman. And now go, Robert!
POET
You are joking? Can’t I help you?
ACTRESS
No, you must go now.
POET
And when may I return?
ACTRESS
In ten minutes.
POET
(_Kisses her_) Au revoir!
ACTRESS
Where will you go?
POET
I shall walk up and down under your window. I love to wander about
outdoors at night time. My finest inspirations come to me that way. And
especially near you, under the breath of your longing, I might call it
… entwined in your art.
ACTRESS
You talk like an idiot…
POET
(_Hurt_) There are women who might say … like a poet.
ACTRESS
Oh, well, but do go now. But don’t start to flirt with the waitress.—
POET
(_Goes_)
ACTRESS
(_Undresses. She hears the POET going down the wooden stairway, and,
then hears his footsteps below her window. As soon as she is undressed,
she goes to the window and looks down to where he stands waiting. She
calls to him in a whisper_) Come!
POET
(_Comes quickly upstairs and runs toward her. She in the meantime has
gone to bed, and extinguished the light. He locks the door_)
ACTRESS
So, now you may sit down beside me, and tell me a story.
POET
(_Sits down on the bed beside her_) Hadn’t I better close the window?
Isn’t it too cold for you?
ACTRESS
Oh, no!
POET
Now, what shall I tell you?
ACTRESS
Tell me to whom you are unfaithful at this moment?
POET
I’m sorry, I’m not unfaithful yet.
ACTRESS
Well, if it’s any satisfaction to you, I am unfaithful to some one too.
POET
So I can imagine.
ACTRESS
And who do you suppose it is?
POET
But, child, how do you expect me to know?
ACTRESS
Guess, then.
POET
Wait … your manager.
ACTRESS
My dear man, I’m not a chorus-girl.
POET
Well, I am only guessing.
ACTRESS
Guess again.
POET
Then it’s your leading-man … Benno—
ACTRESS
Nonsense! He doesn’t care for women at all … didn’t you know that? He
carries on with his postman!
POET
No, really!—
ACTRESS
Now come, kiss me.
POET
(_Embraces her_)
ACTRESS
But what are you doing?
POET
Why do you torment me so?
ACTRESS
Listen, Robert, I have a suggestion to make to you. Come lie down in
bed with me.
POET
I accept.
ACTRESS
Come quickly, come quickly!
POET
Yes … if I had had my way, I would have been there long ago… Listen…
ACTRESS
What?
POET
The crickets are chirping outside.
ACTRESS
You are crazy, child, there are no crickets here.
POET
But surely you hear them.
ACTRESS
Hurry up.
POET
(_Beside her_) Here I am.
ACTRESS
Now lie quite still… Sh … don’t move…
POET
Yes, but why?
ACTRESS
You would rather like to have an affair with me?
POET
I should think that’s obvious by now.
ACTRESS
There are many who would like that…
POET
But it would seem that at the moment the odds are on my side…
ACTRESS
Then, come, my cricket! I shall call you “cricket” from now on.
POET
All right…
ACTRESS
Now, tell me, whom am I deceiving?
POET
Whom?… Perhaps me…
ACTRESS
Child, you have softening of the brain.
POET
Or some one … some one whom you have never seen … some one, whom you
don’t even know, some one—who is predestined for you and whom you will
never find…
ACTRESS
Please don’t talk such magnificent nonsense.
POET
… Isn’t it strange … you too—and yet one could think.—But no, it would
destroy the best in you, if one should … come, come—come.—
* * * * *
ACTRESS
That’s better than acting in idiotic plays… Don’t you think so?
POET
Well, it seems to me, that it is a good thing you sometimes have to act
in an intelligent one.
ACTRESS
You conceited puppy. I suppose you are thinking of one of your own
plays again.
POET
Yes, I am.
ACTRESS
(_Seriously_) It is really a splendid play!
POET
Well, then!
ACTRESS
You are a great genius, Robert!
POET
And you might also tell me now why you didn’t turn up the day before
yesterday. There was absolutely nothing the matter with you.
ACTRESS
Well, I wanted to annoy you.
POET
But why? What have I done to you?—
ACTRESS
You were over-bearing.
POET
In what way?
ACTRESS
Everybody at the theater thinks you are.
POET
Really.
ACTRESS
But I told them, he has a perfect right to be over-bearing.
POET
And what did they say?
ACTRESS
What could they say? I am not on speaking-terms with any of them.
POET
Oh, I see.
ACTRESS
They would like nothing better than to poison me, every one of them.
But they won’t succeed.
POET
Don’t think now of others. Let’s be happy that we are here together,
and tell me that you love me.
ACTRESS
What further proof can you want?
POET
It’s a thing that can’t be proven anyway.
ACTRESS
I like that! What else do you want?
POET
How many are there that you have tried to convince in this way … did
you love all of them?
ACTRESS
No, I have loved only one.
POET
(_Embraces her_) My…
ACTRESS
Dick.
POET
My name is Robert. What can I mean to you, if you are thinking of Dick,
now?
ACTRESS
You are a mood of mine.
POET
I am pleased to know it.
ACTRESS
Well, tell me, aren’t you proud?
POET
Why should I be proud?
ACTRESS
It seems to me that you have good reason to be.
POET
Oh, because of that.
ACTRESS
Yes, because of that, my little cricket!—What about the chirping? Are
they still chirping?
POET
All the time. Don’t you hear them?
ACTRESS
Of course, I hear them. But, child, those are frogs.
POET
You are wrong. Frogs croak.
ACTRESS
Of course, they croak.
POET
But this is not croaking, child, this is chirping.
ACTRESS
You are about the most stubborn person I have ever met. Kiss me,
froggie.
POET
Please don’t call me that. It gets on my nerves.
ACTRESS
Well, what shall I call you?
POET
My name is Robert.
ACTRESS
Oh, but that’s stupid.
POET
But won’t you please call me simply by my own name?
ACTRESS
Well, then, Robert, give me a kiss… Ah! (_She kisses him_) Now, are you
satisfied, froggie?
POET
May I light a cigarette?
ACTRESS
Give me one too. (_He takes his cigarette-case from the dressing-table;
takes two cigarettes out; lights both, and gives her one_) By the way,
you haven’t said a word about my performance yesterday.
POET
What performance?
ACTRESS
Well.
POET
Oh, yes. I wasn’t at the theater.
ACTRESS
You are joking.
POET
Not in the least. When you didn’t turn up the day before, I assumed you
hadn’t fully recovered yesterday, and so I decided not to go.
ACTRESS
You missed something wonderful.
POET
Yes.
ACTRESS
It was a sensation. The people actually grew pale.
POET
You saw that?
ACTRESS
Benno said: Child, you acted divinely.
POET
Hm!… And so ill the day before.
ACTRESS
Indeed I was. And do you know why? Because I felt such a longing for
you.
POET
A little while ago you said that you stayed away just to annoy me.
ACTRESS
But what do you know about my love for you? Everything leaves you cold.
And I have been delirious for nights. In a high fever—hundred and four
degrees.
POET
Rather high for a mood.
ACTRESS
You call that a mood? I am dying for love of you, and you call it a
mood—?
POET
And Dick…?
ACTRESS
Dick?… Don’t talk to me about that galley-slave!—
THE ACTRESS AND THE COUNT
_The bedroom of the ACTRESS, luxuriously furnished. It is midday. The
curtains are still down; a candle is burning on the dressing-table.
The ACTRESS is disclosed in her four-poster bed. Many newspapers are
strewn about on the cover. The COUNT in the uniform of a captain of the
Dragoons enters. He remains standing at the door._
ACTRESS
Ah, Count.
COUNT
Your mother said I might, otherwise I would not—
ACTRESS
Please, come closer.
COUNT
I kiss your hand. Pardon me—when you come in from the street … I can’t
see a thing yet. So … here we are (_at her bed_). I kiss your hand.
ACTRESS
Please sit down, Count.
COUNT
Your mother said, My daughter isn’t well… Nothing serious, I hope.
ACTRESS
Nothing serious? I was on the verge of death.
COUNT
Oh, dear, oh, dear, is it possible?
ACTRESS
It is very good of you to have taken the trouble to call.
COUNT
On the verge of death! And only last night you acted divinely.
ACTRESS
It was a great triumph, wasn’t it?
COUNT
Tremendous!… The audience was carried away. I won’t say anything about
myself.
ACTRESS
Thanks, for the beautiful flowers.
COUNT
Nothing at all, Mademoiselle.
ACTRESS
(_Indicating with her eyes a large flower-basket, which stands on a
little table near the window_) There they are.
COUNT
You were literally overwhelmed with flowers and wreaths yesterday.
ACTRESS
They are still in my dressing-room. All I brought home was your flowers.
COUNT
(_Kissing her hand_) How sweet of you.
ACTRESS
(_Suddenly seizes his hand, and kisses it_)
COUNT
But, Mademoiselle.
ACTRESS
Don’t be frightened, Count, it doesn’t put you under any obligations.
COUNT
You are a strange being … a sort of a problem almost—
(_Pause_)
ACTRESS
Miss Birken, I suppose, is much less of a problem.
COUNT
That little lady isn’t a problem at all, although … I really know her
only very slightly.
ACTRESS
Oh!
COUNT
That’s the actual truth. But you are a problem. I’ve always had a
yearning for a problem. It’s really been a deep personal loss to me,
that until yesterday… I _never_ saw you act.
ACTRESS
Really?
COUNT
Yes! You see, going to the theater is so complicated. I am used to
dining late … then when I get there, the best part of the play is over.
Isn’t that true?
ACTRESS
From now on, I suppose, you will dine earlier.
COUNT
I’ve thought of that too. Or maybe I won’t dine at all. Dining isn’t a
special pleasure anyhow.
ACTRESS
Are there any pleasures left to an old man like you?
COUNT
That’s a question I often ask myself. But I am not an old man. There
must be some other reason.
ACTRESS
Do you think so?
COUNT
Yes. Bobby, for instance, says, that I am a philosopher. You know he
means that I do too much thinking.
ACTRESS
Yes … thinking is a misfortune.
COUNT
I have too much time, that’s why I reflect. You see, I’ve often thought
if they would transfer me to Vienna, things would be better. There’s
diversion here, stimulation. But at the bottom, it’s not really very
different from up there.
ACTRESS
What do you mean by “up there”?
COUNT
Well, down there, you know, in Hungary, in the God forsaken country
towns, where I’ve been stationed most of the time.
ACTRESS
And what did you do in Hungary?
COUNT
Well, as I am telling you, military service.
ACTRESS
Yes, but why did you stay in Hungary so long?
COUNT
Oh, things happen that way.
ACTRESS
But it must be enough to drive one mad.
COUNT
But why? You have a lot more work there, than here. You know, drilling
recruits, breaking in mounts … and the country really isn’t as bad as
they say. They are really quite beautiful, the lowlands—and marvelous
sunsets. Too bad I’m not a painter, I’ve often thought if I were, I
would paint them. We had a young chap, Splany, in our regiment, who
could do it.—But, dear me, what dull stories I am telling you.
ACTRESS
Please go on; they are delightful!
COUNT
Do you know, the nice thing about you is the way one can chat with
you, Bobby told me all about it. And it’s so seldom one can find any
one like that.
ACTRESS
Down there in Hungary, I suppose.
COUNT
But it’s quite the same in Vienna! People are always the same.
Where there are more of them, the crowd is larger. That’s the whole
difference. Tell me, do you really like people?
ACTRESS
Like them—? I hate them! I hate to look at them. I never see any one.
I’m always alone. Nobody enters my house.
COUNT
You see, I sort of thought that you hated people. It must often be the
case with artists. If one lives in the higher regions… Well, you are
lucky, you know at least why you live!
ACTRESS
Who told you that? I haven’t the slightest notion what I’m living for!
COUNT
But really—to be famous—to be fêted—
ACTRESS
Does that mean happiness?
COUNT
Happiness? There really is no such thing as happiness. All the things
that people talk about most, don’t exist … for instance, love. That’s
one of them.
ACTRESS
I suppose you are right.
COUNT
Enjoyment … intoxication … very good, nobody can deny them … they are
something real. Now, when I am enjoying myself … very good, I am aware
that I am enjoying myself. Or I am intoxicated, good. That also is
something real. And when it’s over, well then it’s over.
ACTRESS
(_Grandly_) It is over.
COUNT
But as soon as one does not, how shall I express it, as soon as one
does not give oneself up to the moment, I mean, if one thinks of the
future or the past … well, everything is over in a moment… Afterwards …
there is sadness … before … there is uncertainty … in a word, one only
becomes confused. Isn’t that so?
ACTRESS
(_Nods with wide open eyes_) It seems, you have grasped the essence of
things.
COUNT
And, you see, when you have once clearly grasped this, it really
doesn’t matter whether you live in Vienna or in the Puszta[3] or in
Steinamanger.[4] You see, for instance … where may I put my cap? Yes,
thank you … what were we talking about?
ACTRESS
About the Puszta.
COUNT
Of course. Well, as I said, there isn’t much difference, whether I
spend the evening in the officers’ mess or at the club. It’s all the
same.
ACTRESS
And what about love?
COUNT
If you believe in it, some one will always be there who will love you.
ACTRESS
Like Miss Birken, for example.
COUNT
I really don’t see why you always have to come back to that little lady.
ACTRESS
But she’s your mistress, isn’t she?
COUNT
Who says so?
ACTRESS
Everybody knows it.
COUNT
Except myself, strange to say.
ACTRESS
But you fought a duel on her account!
COUNT
Maybe. I was even killed without my knowing it.
ACTRESS
You are a gentleman, won’t you sit closer to me?
COUNT
With pleasure.
ACTRESS
Here. (_She draws him to her, and passes her hand through his hair_) I
knew you would come to-day.
COUNT
How did you know?
ACTRESS
I knew it last night in the theater.
COUNT
You saw me from the stage, then?
ACTRESS
But man alive! Didn’t you notice that I acted for you alone?
COUNT
No, really?
ACTRESS
I was as on wings, when I saw you sitting in the first row.
COUNT
As on wings? On my account? I hadn’t the slightest suspicion that you
noticed me!
ACTRESS
Your aristocratic reserve is enough to drive one to despair.
COUNT
But…
ACTRESS
“But”!… At least, take your saber off!
COUNT
If you permit.
(_Takes it off, and leans it against the bed_)
ACTRESS
And now give me a kiss.
COUNT
(_Kisses her, she clings to him_)
ACTRESS
It would have been better if I had never seen you.
COUNT
But this seems better to me.
ACTRESS
Count, you are a poseur!
COUNT
I—why?
ACTRESS
Can’t you imagine how happy many a man would be if he were in your
place!
COUNT
I’m perfectly happy.
ACTRESS
Well, I thought happiness didn’t exist. Why do you look at me that way?
I believe you are afraid of me, Count!
COUNT
I told you, Mademoiselle, you are a problem.
ACTRESS
Oh, don’t bother me with your philosophy … come to me. And ask me for
anything at all … you can have whatever you want. You are so handsome.
COUNT
Well then, may I ask (_kissing her hand_) that I may call again this
evening?
ACTRESS
This evening … but I have to act then.
COUNT
After the play.
ACTRESS
And you ask for nothing else?
COUNT
I shall ask for everything else after the play.
ACTRESS
(_Hurt_) You can beg a long while then, you abominable poseur.
COUNT
But, see, we’ve been perfectly frank with each other so far … it seems
to me it would be so much more beautiful after the play … much cozier
than now, when … I have a sort of feeling the door might open any
moment…
ACTRESS
It does not open from the outside.
COUNT
Well, you see, I have an idea one shouldn’t lightly spoil in advance
something which may be very beautiful.
ACTRESS
Possibly!…
COUNT
To tell the truth, love in the morning seems rather horrible to me.
ACTRESS
Well—you are about the worst case of lunacy I have ever met!
COUNT
I am not talking about women in general … because in general it doesn’t
make any difference anyway. But women like you … no, you may call me a
fool a hundred times over. But women like you … one doesn’t take them
before breakfast. And so … you know … so…
ACTRESS
Oh, but you are a darling!
COUNT
You understand, what I have said, don’t you? I sort of imagine it like…
ACTRESS
How do you imagine it?
COUNT
Like this… I wait for you in a carriage after the play, then we drive
somewhere for supper—
ACTRESS
I am not Miss Birken.
COUNT
I didn’t mean to say you were. Only, it seems to me, you have to be in
the right sort of mood for everything. In my case the mood doesn’t come
until supper. The most beautiful thing of all is when we drive home
together, and then…
ACTRESS
And then?
COUNT
And then … well, that depends upon circumstances.
ACTRESS
Do sit closer. Closer.
COUNT
(_Sitting down on the bed_) Seems to me, that out of the pillows comes
a fragrance … mignonette—isn’t it?
ACTRESS
It’s very warm in here, don’t you think so?
COUNT
(_Bends down, and kisses her neck_)
ACTRESS
Oh, Count, that is contrary to your program.
COUNT
Who said anything about “program.” I never have any program.
ACTRESS
(_Drawing him close to her_)
COUNT
It really is very warm.
ACTRESS
Do you think so? And so dark, just as if it were evening… (_Draws him
toward her_) It is evening … it is night… Close your eyes, if there is
too much light for you. Come!… Come!…
COUNT
(_Offers no further resistance_)
* * * * *
ACTRESS
And what about atmosphere now, you poseur?
COUNT
You are a little devil.
ACTRESS
What a thing to say!
COUNT
Well, then an angel.
ACTRESS
You should have been an actor! Really! You understand women! And do you
know, what I shall do now?
COUNT
Well?
ACTRESS
I shall tell you that I shall never see you again.
COUNT
But why?
ACTRESS
Never, never. You are too dangerous! You would drive a woman mad. Here
you are standing before me, as though nothing had happened.
COUNT
But…
ACTRESS
Please remember, Count, I have just given you everything.
COUNT
I shall never forget it!
ACTRESS
And what about to-night?
COUNT
What do you mean?
ACTRESS
Well—you wanted to wait for me after the theater?
COUNT
Oh, yes, let’s say, the day after to-morrow.
ACTRESS
What do you mean by “the day after to-morrow”? We were talking about
to-day.
COUNT
There wouldn’t be much sense in that.
ACTRESS
Old man!
COUNT
You don’t quite understand me. What I mean has rather to do, how shall
I express myself, rather concerns the soul.
ACTRESS
What concern of mine is your soul?
COUNT
Believe me, it has much to do with it. It seems all wrong to me, this
notion, that you can separate the two.
ACTRESS
Don’t bother me with your philosophy. If I want any of that, I can read
books.
COUNT
One never learns from books.
ACTRESS
Very true! And that’s why you ought to wait for me to-night. As to the
soul, we will come to some sort of an understanding, you villain!
COUNT
Well, then, if I may, I shall wait in my carriage…
ACTRESS
You shall wait for me here in my home—
COUNT
… After the play.
ACTRESS
Of course.
(_He buckles on his sword_)
ACTRESS
What are you doing?
COUNT
It seems to me it is time for me to go. For a formal call I have stayed
a bit too long as it is.
ACTRESS
Well, this evening it shall be a formal call.
COUNT
Do you think so?
ACTRESS
I’ll take care of that. And now give me a last kiss, you darling little
philosopher. Here, you seducer, you … sweet child, you seller of souls,
you … panther. (_After she has ardently kissed him several times, she
thrusts him violently away_) Count, you have done me a great honor.
COUNT
Not at all, mademoiselle! (_At the door_) Au revoir.
ACTRESS
Good-by, and love to Steinamanger.
THE COUNT AND THE GIRL OF THE STREETS
_It is morning toward six o’clock. A poorly furnished room with one
window. The dirty yellowish blinds are down. Tattered, greenish
curtains. On the dresser are several photographs, and beside them a
cheap woman’s hat of conspicuously bad taste. Behind the mirror are
cheap Japanese fans. On the table over which is drawn a reddish cover
is an oil-lamp. It is burning low with a disagreeable odor, and has a
shade of yellow paper. Beside it is a pitcher with remains of beer,
and a half-empty glass.—On the floor beside the bed a woman’s clothes
are lying in disorder. They look as though they had just been quickly
thrown off. The GIRL lies sleeping in the bed, breathing quietly. The
COUNT is lying on the sofa fully dressed with his light overcoat on.
His hat lies on the floor at the head of the sofa._
COUNT