_Scene:_ Room in house of Herr Von Donniges.
[Furnishings are rich and old-fashioned, as becomes the house of a
collector of revenue. Helene pacing the room talking to
maidservant, who sits quietly sewing.]
HELENE. It is only a week since I saw Lassalle--only a week. Yet my poor
head says it is a year, and my heart says a lifetime. For six days my
father kept me locked in that little room in the tower, where not even
you were allowed to enter. The butler silently pushed food in at the
door and as silently went away. Once each day at exactly noon my father
came and solemnly asked, "Do you renounce Lassalle?" and I as solemnly
answered, "I will yet be the wife of Lassalle." But since yesterday,
when I wrote the letter at their dictation to Lassalle telling him that
he was free, and that I was soon to marry Prince Yanko Racowitza, I feel
a load lifted from my heart. How queer! Perhaps it is because I am
relieved of the pressure of my parents and have been given my freedom!
MAID. Not quite freedom; for see--there is a guard pacing back and forth
at the door!
[Guard is seen through the window pacing his beat.]
HELENE. Oh, freedom is only comparative--but now you are with me. I
needed some one to whom I could talk. Yet I did not renounce Lassalle
until he failed to rescue me--he did not even answer my letter----
MAID. Possibly he did not receive it!
HELENE. But you bribed the porter!
MAID. True; but some one may have paid him more!
HELENE. Listen, do you still think it possible that Lassalle has not
forgotten me?
MAID. Not only possible, but probable. A man of his intellect would
guess that the letter you wrote was forced from you.
HELENE. A lawyer surely would understand that for things done _in
terrorem_ one is not responsible. Now see what I am doing--yesterday I
hoped never again to see Lassalle, and now I am planning and praying he
will come to me.
MAID. Your heart is with Lassalle.
HELENE. It seems so.
MAID. Then God will bring it about, and you shall be united.
_Enter SERVANT_
SERVANT. Prince Racowitza!
_Enter PRINCE RACOWITZA_
[The Prince is small, dark, dapper, unobjectionable. He is much
agitated. Helene holds out her hand to him in a friendly, but
non-committal, discreet way. Maid starts to go.]
PRINCE. [_To maid_] Do not leave the room--I have serious news, and your
mistress may need your services when I tell her what I have to say!
HELENE. [_Relieved by the thought that the Prince is about to renounce
all claims to one so caught in the web of scandal_] You will remain with
me, Elizabeth; I may need you. And now, Prince Yanko--I am steeled
[_tries to smile_]--give me the worst. [_The Prince making passes in
the air, tierce and thrust with his cane at an imaginary foe_] I say,
dear Prince, tell me the worst--I think I can bear it. [_Helene is
almost amused by the sight of the semi-comic opera-bouffe prince_] Tell
me the worst!
PRINCE. Lassalle has challenged your father!
HELENE. [_Blanching_] Lassalle has challenged my father!
PRINCE. To the death. [_Aiming with his cane at a piece of statuary in
the corner_] One, two, three--fire!
HELENE. It is not so. Lassalle is opposed to the code on principle.
PRINCE. There are no principles in time of war! Are you ready,
gentlemen--One, two, three!
HELENE. [_Contemptuously_] Why do you not fight him?
PRINCE. Is there no way, gentlemen, by which this unfortunate affair can
be arranged? If not----
HELENE. You did not hear me!
PRINCE. Oh, yes, I heard you, and I am to fight him at sunrise. Your
father turned the challenge over to me!
HELENE. To you?
PRINCE. And your father has fled to Paris--it is a serious thing to be a
party to a duel in Germany--a sure-enough duel!
HELENE. But you are not a swordsman, nor have you ever shot a
pistol--you told me so once.
PRINCE. But I have been practising at the shooting-gallery for two
hours. The keeper there says I am a wonderful shot--I hit a
plaster-of-Paris rabbit seven times in succession!
[Helene is excited; her thought is that Lassalle, being a sure shot
and a brave man, will surely kill the Prince. This will eliminate
one factor in the tangle. Lassalle having killed his man will have
to flee--the Government only tolerates him now. And she will flee
with him--her father in Paris, the Prince dead, exile for
Lassalle--the way lubricated by the gods--good.]
HELENE. [_Excitedly_] Yes, fight him, kill him!
PRINCE. I will fight him at sunrise--at once after the meeting, I will
drive directly here. If I am unhurt, we will fly--you and I--for Paris
to meet your father. If I am wounded, the carriage will come with the
horses walking; if I am dead, the horses will be on a run; if I am
unharmed, the horses will simply trot and----
HELENE. [_Who knows that Lassalle will kill the Prince, hysterically_]
Will trot--good! And now good-by, good-by!
[Kisses him explosively and backs him out of the door.]
[_Exit Prince._]
HELENE. [_In ecstasy_] Lassalle will kill him!
MAID. I am afraid he will.
HELENE. And this will make us free, free!
MAID. It will exile you.
HELENE. And since this home is a prison, exile would be paradise.
* * * * *