FABIG
I’ll take good care, an’ it don’t concern me. If it’s your child or your sister’s child–I’m not goin’ to poke my nose in the parish register, nor I’m not goin’ to say nothin’ neither. But if you want a bit o’ good advice,’tis this: Tell Henschel straight out how ’tis. He won’t tear your head off by a long way!
HANNE
[_With increasing excitement as HENSCHEL’S voice grows more clearly audible._] Oh this here jabberin’! It’s enough to drive you crazy.
[_Exit into the adjoining room._
_HENSCHEL enters slowly and seriously. He wears a black suit, a top hat and white knitted gloves._
HENSCHEL
[_Remains standing and looks at FABIG with an expression of slow recollection. Simply and calmly._] Who are you?
FABIG
[_Alertly._] I buy rags, waste paper, furniture, cast off clothes, anythin’ that happens to be aroun’.
HENSCHEL
[_After a long glance, good-naturedly but with decision._] Out with the fellow!
_FABIG withdraws with an embarrassed smile._
HENSCHEL
[_Takes off his top-hat and wipes his forehead and neck with a manicoloured handkerchief. Thereupon, he places his hat on the table and speaks toward the door of the next room:_] Girl, where are you?
HANNE
I’m with Gustel here in the little room.
HENSCHEL
All right. I c’n wait. [_He sits down with a sigh that is almost a groan._] Yes, yes, O Lord–a man has his troubles.
HANNE
[_Enters busily._] The dinner’ll be ready this minute.
HENSCHEL
I can’t eat; I’m not hungry.
HANNE
Eatin’ and drinkin’ keeps body an’ soul together. I was once in service with a shepherd, an’ he said to us more’n one time: If a body has a heartache or somethin’ like that, even if he feels no hunger, ’tis best to eat.
HENSCHEL
Well, cook your dinner an’ we’ll see.
HANNE
You shouldn’t give in to it. Not as much as all that. You got to resign yourself some time.
HENSCHEL
Was that man Horand, the bookbinder, here?
HANNE
Everythin’s attended to. He made forty new billheads. There they are on the chest.
HENSCHEL
Then the work an’ the worry begins again. Drivin’ in to Freiburg mornin’ after mornin’ an’ noon after noon haulin’ sick people across the hills.
HANNE
You’re doin’ too much o’ the work yourself. Old Hauffe is too slow by half. I can’t help it–if I was you I’d get rid o’ him.
HENSCHEL
[_Gets up and goes to the window._] I’m sick of it–of the whole haulin’ business. It c’n stop for all I care. I got nothin’ against it if it does. To-day or to-morrow; it’s the same to me. All you got to do is to take the horses to the flayers, to chop up the waggons for kindlin’ wood, an’ to get a stout, strong bit o’ rope for yourself.–I think I’ll go up an’ see Siebenhaar.
HANNE
I was wantin’ to say somethin’ to you when I got a chance.
HENSCHEL
Well, what is it, eh?
HANNE
You see, it’s not easy for me. No, indeed. [_Elaborately tearful._] But my brother–he needs me that bad. [_Weeping._] I’ll have to leave–that’s sure.
HENSCHEL
[_In extreme consternation._] You’re not right in your mind. Don’t start that kind o’ business!
_HANNE, shedding crocodile tears, holds her apron to her eyes._
HENSCHEL
Well now, look here, lass: you’re not goin’ to play me that kind of a trick now! That would be fine! Who’s goin’ to manage the house? Summer’s almost with us now an’ you want to leave me in the lurch?
HANNE
[_With the same gesture._] ‘Tis the little one I feels sorry for!
HENSCHEL
If you don’t take care of her, who’s goin’ to?
HANNE
[_After a space collecting herself apparently by an effort of the will. Quietly:_] It can’t be done no different.
HENSCHEL
Everythin’ c’n be done in this world. All you needs is to want to do it.–You never said nothin’ about it before. An’ now, suddenly, you talk about your brother!–Maybe I been offendin’ you some way? Don’t you feel suited with me no more?
HANNE
There’s no end to the gossip that’s goin’ round.
HENSCHEL
What kind o’ gossip?
HANNE
Oh, I don’t know. I’d rather be goin out o’ the way of it.
HENSCHEL
I’d like to know just what you mean!
HANNE
I does my work an’ I takes my pay! An’ I won’t have nobody say such things o’ me. When the wife was still alive I worked all day; now that she’s dead, I don’t do no different. People c’n say all they wants to; I’m tryin’ to make you think I’m fine, an’ I want dead people’s shoes. I’d rather go into service some other place.
HENSCHEL
[_Relieved._] You needn’t say no more if that’s all it is!
HANNE
[_Takes up some piece of work as an excuse for leaving the room._] No, no, I’ll go. I can’t never stay!
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
[_Talking after her._] You c’n let people talk an’ not say much yourself. All them tongues has to wag for an occupation. [_He takes off his black coat and hangs it up. Sighing._] The pack o’ troubles don’t get no smaller.
_SIEBENHAAR comes in slowly. He carries a decanter full of water and a glass._
SIEBENHAAR
Good morning, Henschel.
HENSCHEL
Good mornin’ Mr. Siebenhaar,
SIEBENHAAR
Am I disturbing you?
HENSCHEL
Not a bit; not at all. You’re very welcome.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Placing the decanter and the glass on the table._] I’ve got to drink the medicinal spring water again. I’m having that old trouble with my throat. Well, dear me, a man has to die of something!
HENSCHEL
You must just go ahead an’ drink the waters. They’ll cure you.
SIEBENHAAR
Yes, that’s just what I’m doing.
HENSCHEL
An’ not from the Mill Spring nor from the Upper Spring. Ours is the best.
SIEBENHAAR
Well now, to change the subject. [_Half lost in thought he has been toying with a sprig of ivy. Now he observes this, starts slightly, runs his eyes over the top-hat and HENSCHEL himself and says suddenly:_] This was your wife’s birthday, wasn’t it?
HENSCHEL
She’d ha’ been thirty-six years old to-day.
SIEBENHAAR
Is it possible?
HENSCHEL
Oh, yes, yes.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, I’d better leave you alone now. But when it’s agreeable to you–to-morrow maybe, I’d like to talk over some business with you.
HENSCHEL
I’d rather you went ahead right now.
SIEBENHAAR
It’s about the thousand crowns …
HENSCHEL
Before we says any more, Mr. Siebenhaar. You c’n just keep that money till winter. Why should I be lyin’ to you? You see? I don’t need the money. I don’t care exackly when I gets it; an’ that it’s safe, I’m satisfied o’ that.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, Henschel, in that case I’m very grateful to you. You’re doing me a great favour. During the summer I take in money; you know that. Just now it would have been difficult for me.
HENSCHEL
Well, you see, so we c’n agree fine.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR.
[_Walking to and fro._] Yes, yes, I sometimes wonder over myself. I grew up in this house. And yet, to-day, if I could but make a decent closing out, I could leave it quite calmly.
HENSCHEL
I wouldn’t like to go, I must say. I wouldn’t hardly know where to go to.
SIEBENHAAR
Things have moved ahead with you, Henschel. But the same set of conditions that has counted in your favour, has been that against which I’ve had to struggle to keep my head above water.
HENSCHEL
The shoe pinches one man in this place an’ another man in that. Who’s goin’ to say which is worse off? You see, I got a good, hard blow, too. An’ if I’m goin’ to recover … well, I don’t hardly feel like myself yet.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, there’s a time for everything! You’ll have to conquer that now. You must go out among people, hear things, see things, drink a glass of beer once in a while, plunge into business, perhaps–somehow, put an end to this sad business. It can’t be helped, and so–forward!
HENSCHEL
‘Tis just as you say! You’re quite right!
SIEBENHAAR
To be sure, your wife was the best, most faithful woman. There’s only one opinion about that. But you are in the full current of life, Henschel; you’re in your best years; you still have a great deal to do in the world: who knows how much. You needn’t forget your wife on that account; on the contrary. And that’s entirely out of the question in the case of a man like you. But you must honour her memory in a saner way. This kind of brooding does no good. I’ve been watching you for a good while and I determined, without saying anything, to make a really strong appeal to you one day. You’re letting yourself be actually downed.
HENSCHEL
But what’s a man to do against it? You’re right–that you are; but times I hardly know what to do! You say: Plunge into business. But there’s somethin’ lackin’ all around. Four eyes sees better’n two; four hands–they c’n do a sight more. Now I got all these coaches here in the summer! An’ there’s no one to see to things at home! ‘Tis not easy, I c’n tell you that.
SIEBENHAAR
I thought that Hanne was quite a capable girl.
HENSCHEL
Well, you see, she’s given me notice, too.–‘Tis too hard for a man to get along without a wife. Yon can’t depend on no one. That’s just it; that’s just what I says!
SIEBENHAAR
Why don’t you marry, Henschel?
HENSCHEL
‘Twould be best!–What c’n I do without a wife? A man like me can’t get along without one. I was thinking in fact, of goin’ upstairs an’ askin’ the missis if, maybe, she could give me some advice in that direction. She died an’ left me alone in the midst of all these worries.–An’, also, to tell you the truth, this business of mine’s not what it used to be. How long is it goin’ to be before the railroad comes here? Well, you see, we’d put by a little, an’ we wanted to buy a small inn–maybe in two years or so. Well, that can’t be done without a woman neither.
SIEBENHAAR
True. You won’t be able to get along this way permanently. You can’t remain a widower the rest of your life. If for no other reason but for the child’s sake.
HENSCHEL
That’s what I always says.
SIEBENHAAR
Of course I have no right to interfere in your affairs. Still, we’re old friends. To wait, Henschel, just on account of what people will think–that’s sheer nonsense, no more, no less. If you are quite seriously thinking of marrying again, it would be better both for you and for the child if you did it soon. You needn’t be overhasty; assuredly not! But if you’ve quite made up your mind, then–go straight ahead! Why should you hesitate? [_After a pause during which HENSCHEL scratches his head._] Have you any one particular in view?
HENSCHEL
–If I got some one in view? That’s what you’d like to know? Maybe I has. Only I can’t marry her.
SIEBENHAAR
But why not?
HENSCHEL
You know it yourself.
SIEBENHAAR
I? I know it? How’s that?
HENSCHEL
All you got to do is a little thinkin’.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Shaking his head._] I can’t say that I recall at this moment.
HENSCHEL
Didn’t I have to go an’ promise my wife …
SIEBENHAAR.
——?–Oh, yes!!–You mean the girl–Hanne?–
[_Pause._]
HENSCHEL
I been thinkin’ an’ thinkin’. There’s no use in denyin’ it. When I wakes up during the night, I can’t sleep for a couple o’ hours sometimes. I got to be thinkin’ of it all the time. I can’t get over it any way!–The girl’s a good girl. She’s a bit young for an old fellow like me, but she c’n work enough for four men. An’ she’s taken very kindly to Gustel; no mother could do more’n she. An’ the girl’s got a head on her, that’s sure, better’n mine. She c’n do sums better’n I can. She might go an’ be a calculator. She knows a bit o’ business to the last farthing, even if six weeks have come an’ gone since. I believe she could make a fool o’ two lawyers.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, if you’re so thoroughly convinced of all that …!
HENSCHEL
There wouldn’t be no better wife for me! An’ yet … an’ yet! I can’t get over it.
[_Pause._]
SIEBENHAAR
I do remember quite dimly now what you mean. It was quite at the end of her life.–But I confess to you quite frankly: I didn’t take that matter so very seriously. Your wife was in a very excited condition. And that was caused largely by her illness.–I can’t think that that is the main question. The real question must finally be whether Hanne is really suitable for you! She has her advantageous qualities: no doubt about that. There are things about her that I like less. However: who hasn’t some faults. People say that she has a child.
HENSCHEL
That she has. I’ve inquired. Well, even so. I don’t care nothin’ about that. Was she to wait for me, eh? She didn’t know nothin’ about me when that happened. She’s hot-blooded; all right. That’ll come out somehow. When the pears is ripe, they falls to the ground. On that account–no, that don’t trouble me none.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, then! The other matter is trivial. Perhaps not trivial exactly. I can well understand how it’s taken hold of you. Still, one must get free of it. To be bound by it, in spite of one’s saner thought–that’s clearly folly, Henschel.
HENSCHEL
I’ve said that to myself ten times over. You see, my wife she didn’t never want anythin’ but what was for my best good. I mean, in the days when she was well. She wouldn’t want to stand in my way. Wherever she is, maybe, she’d want to see me get along.
SIEBENHAAR
Assuredly.
HENSCHEL
Well, I went out to her grave to-day. The missis had a wreath put there too. I thought to myself I’d better go there, that’s what I thought. Maybe she’ll be sendin’ you some message. Mother, I said in my thoughts, give me a sign. Yes or no! Anyway you answers, that way it’ll be! An’ I stood, there half an hour.–I prayed, too, an’ I put it all to her–just to myself, o’ course–about the child an’ the inn an’ that I don’t know what to do in my business–but she didn’t give me no sign.
_HANNE enters throwing sidelong glances at the two men, but at once going energetically to work. She puts the washbench and tub aside and busies herself at the stove._
SIEBENHAAR
[_To HENSCHEL._] God give the dead peace and blessedness. You are a man; you’re in the midst of life. Why should you need signs and miracles? We can find our way in this world by depending with fair certainty on our reason. You simply go your way. You’re captain on your own ship. Overboard with all these fancies and sickly notions! The more I think of your plan, the more rational it seems to me …
HENSCHEL
Hanne, what do you say about it?
HANNE
I don’t know. How c’n I tell what you’re talkin’ about?
HENSCHEL
You just wait: I’ll tell you later.
SIEBENHAAR
Well, good morning, Henschel. I’ll see you later. Meanwhile–good luck!
HENSCHEL
I’ll hope I’ll have it.
SIEBENHAAR
I’m not worried about you. You had a lucky way with you always.
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
Yon shouldn’t be sayin’ it! ‘Tis bad luck.
HANNE
If you spits three times, it’ll take the curse off.
[_Pause._]
HANNE
I can’t help thinkin’ as you’re too good.
HENSCHEL
What makes you think so?
HANNE
People just robs you: that’s what I says.
HENSCHEL
Did you think he wanted somethin’ of me?
HANNE
Well, what else? He ought to be ashamed to come beggin’ o’ poor people.
HENSCHEL
Hanne, you don’t know what you’re sayin’.
HANNE
I knows well enough.
HENSCHEL
That’s what you don’t. An’ you couldn’t know. But some day, later on, you’ll come to understand.–Now I’ll be goin’ to the taproom an’ buy me a mug o’ beer. It’ll be the first time these eight weeks. After that we c’n eat, an’ after the dinner then–listen to me–then we might say a word to each other. Then we c’n see how everythin’ c’n be straightened out.–Or, maybe, you don’t care about it?
HANNE
You was sayin’ yourself: We c’n see.
HENSCHEL
An’ that’s what I says now. We c’n wait.
[_Exit._
[_Pause._]
HANNE
[_Works on undisturbed. When HENSCHEL is out of hearing, she suddenly ceases, scarcely mastering her joyous excitement, she dries her hands and tears off her apron. In involuntary triumph:_] I’ll show you. Watch out!
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE THIRD ACT
_The same room as tn the two preceding acts._
_It is evening toward the end of November. A fire is burning in the oven; a lighted candle stands on the table. The middle door is closed. Muffled dance music penetrates into the room from the upper stories of the house._
_HANNE, now MRS. HENSCHEL, sits by the table and knits; she is neatly and suitably clad in a dress of blue cotton, and wears a red kerchief across her breast._
_HILDEBRANT, the smith, enters. A small, sinewy person._
HILDEBRANT
Good evenin’, missis, where’s your husband?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Gone to Breslau. He’s fetchin’ three new horses.
HILDEBRANT
Then I s’pose he won’t be comin’ home to-day, eh?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Not before Monday.
HILDEBRANT
Well, this is Saturday.–We’ve brought back the board waggon. It’s downstairs in the entry way. We had to renew all the four tires. Where’s Hauffe?
MRS. HENSCHEL
He hasn’t been with us this long time.
HILDEBRANT
So he hasn’t. ‘Tis nonsense I’m talkin’. I mean the new servant. Is Schwarzer here?
MRS. HENSCHEL
He’s gone along to Breslau.
HILDEBRANT
Fact is I knows all about Hauffe. He comes down to the smithy an’ just stands aroun’. He’s got nothin’ to do yet.
MRS. HENSCHEL
People says he’s beginnin’ to drink.
HILDEBRANT
I believes it. That’s the way it goes. ‘Tis bad for an old fellow like that; nobody wants him now.–What’s goin’ on up there to-day?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Dancin’!
HILDEBRANT
How’d it be if we was to go up there too, missis. Why shouldn’t we be joinin’ in a little waltz too?
MRS. HENSCHEL
They’d open their eyes pretty wide up there if we did.–But what is it you want of Henschel?
HILDEBRANT
His honour, the judge, has a chestnut stallion that don’t want to let hisself be shoed. So we wanted to ax Henschel to step over. If he can’t get any beast to stand still, why then–! Well, good evenin’, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Good evenin’.
_HILDEBRANT withdraws._
MRS. HENSCHEL.
[_Listens to a dragging noise out in the passage._] What kind of a noise is that there? [_She steps forward and opens the door._] Who’s makin’ all that racket out there?
FRANZISKA
[_Comes dancing in._] Get out of the way, Mrs. Henschel! I have no time.
[_She whirls about in the room to the measure of the waltz heard from above._]
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, this is a fine way to act! What’s the matter with you? Did a mad dog bite you, maybe?
_FRANZISKA dances on and hums the melody of the waltz._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_More and more amused._] For heaven’s sake! Somethin’s goin’ to happen to you!–No, girl, you’re goin’ clear out o’ your mind!
FRANZISKA
[_Sinks exhausted into a chair as the music breaks off._] Oh, Mrs. Henschel, I could dance myself to death!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Laughing._] At this here rate I believes you! It makes a body feel dizzy just to watch you.
FRANZISKA
Don’t you dance at all?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Me? If I dance? To be sure I do. ‘Twasn’t once or twice only that I got a pair o’ new shoes an’ danced ’em to pieces in one night!
FRANZISKA
Come and dance with me then!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Why don’t you go upstairs an’ dance with the folks there?
FRANZISKA
Oh, if only I might! Do you know what I’ll do? I’ll sneak up! I’ll sneak into the gallery! Have you ever been up there? The bags of prunes stand up there. I go up there quite boldly and look down, and eat prunes. Why shouldn’t I look down from there?
MRS. HENSCHEL
An’ maybe Siebenhaar’ll send for you to come down.
FRANZISKA
I just stare down as bold as you please. I don’t care a bit. And whenever a lady dances with Mr. Siebenhaar, I pelt her with plum pits.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You’re crazy about Siebenhaar–that’s certain!
FRANZISKA
Well, he’s a real swell–that’s what none of the others are. [_The music is heard again._] Ah, they’re starting. That’s a polka! [_Dancing again._] I’d like to dance with Mr. Siebenhaar this minute. D’you know what I’d do? I’d just kiss him before he knew what was happening.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Siebenhaar’d be too old for me!
FRANZISKA
Your husband is just as old, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Look here, girl, I want you to know that my husband is a good five years younger.
FRANZISKA
Well, he looks much older anyhow. Why, he looks so old and wrinkled. No, I wouldn’t care to kiss him.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You better see about getting out o’ here, or I’ll take a broom an’ help you along! Don’t you abuse my husband! An’ where would I get a better one? You wait till you’re a few years older an’ you’ll see what it means in this world to have a husband!
FRANZISKA
I won’t marry at all. I’ll wait till some fine, rich gentleman comes–some summer–for his health–a Russian, by preference–and then I’ll let him take me out into the world. I want to see the world–to wander far–I want to go to Paris. And then I’ll write you about myself, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I do believe you’ll run off some day!
FRANZISKA
You can wager anything that I will. Mr. Siebenhaar was in Paris, too, you know, during the revolution in ‘forty-eight, and he can tell you the most interesting stories! Oh, I’d like to see a revolution like that some day too. They build barricades …
WERMELSKIRCH’S VOICE
Franziska! Franziska! Where are you keeping yourself again?
FRANZISKA
Sh! Don’t say anything!
WERMELSKIRCH’S VOICE
Franziska! Franziska!
FRANZISKA
Sh! Keep still! He wants me to serve at the bar. And that’s horrid and I won’t do it!
WERMELSKIRCH’S VOICE
Franziska!
FRANZISKA
It’s papa’s or mama’s place to do that. Or they can hire a waiter. I won’t be turned into a bar maid.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That’s not the worst kind o’ thing!
FRANZISKA
Oh, if there were real gentlemen to serve! But they’re just well–attendants, coachmen and miners. Much obliged for such company! I don’t care about it!
MRS. HENSCHEL
If I was you, I’d do that reel easy. An’ I’d be gettin’ good tips. You could save a good many pennies an’ put by a nice sum.
FRANZISKA
I won’t accept pennies and farthings. And if some time Mr. Siebenhaar or the architect or Dr. Valentiner gives me a present, I spend it on sweetmeats right away.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Ah, that’s just it. You’re your father’s daughter. An’ your mother wasn’t much different neither. You people don’t take care o’ the business you has! If you’d ha’ done so you’d have money out at interest this day.
FRANZISKA
We’re not as stingy as you, that’s all.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I’m not stingy. But you got to keep your substance together.
FRANZISKA
People say you’re stingy, though!
MRS. HENSCHEL
People c’n be–! An’ you too! Hurry now an’ get out o’ here! I’m sick o’ your jabberin’ now! An’ you don’t need to come back here neither! I haven’t been longin’ for you, exackly! ‘Tis best not to see or hear anything o’ the whole crowd o’ you.
FRANZISKA
[_Turning once more at the door, with angry malice._] Do you know what else people say?
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don’t want to know nothin’! Get out o’ here! You look out that you don’t get to hear things about yourself! Who knows what’s between you an’ Siebenhaar? You two knows it an’ I knows it too. Otherwise you’d ha’ been kicked out twenty times over with your slovenly management! Teach me to know Siebenhaar!
FRANZISKA
Fy, fy and fy again!
[_Exit._
MRS. HENSCHEL
The baggage!
_The middle door has remained open. SIEBENHAAR and the waiter GEORGE, coming from different directions along the passage way, are seen to meet at the door. GEORGE affects the height of Vienna fashions–hat, cane, long overcoat, gay tie._
SIEBENHAAR
What are you after here?
GEORGE
You’ll forgive me but I have some business with Drayman Henschel.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel is not at home. You’ve been told three times now that there is no place for you in my house. If you can’t remember that henceforth I shall be compelled to have your memory assisted by–the constable.
GEORGE
I beg your pardon very humbly, Mr. Siebenhaar, but I begs to submit that I don’t come to see you. These people lives in your house. An’ you can’t prove nothin’ as touchin’ the question of my honour.
SIEBENHAAR
Very well. Only, if I should meet you again I’ll have the porter kick you out. So you had better act accordingly.
[_Exit._
GEORGE
_[Enters the room cursing.]_ I’ll take that there risk! We’ll see about that later!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Closes the door, with difficulty mastering her rage toward SIEBENHAAR._] We’re here, too, I’d have him know. Just let him try it! This here is our room, not his room, an’ anybody that comes here comes to us an’ not to him! He’s got no right to say nothin’ about it!
GEORGE
We’ll just wait an’ see–that’s all I says. He might have to pay good an’ dear for that. That kind o’ thing takes a man to the pen. He got hisself into a nasty mess with Alphonse, who was here two years ago. But he’d be gettin’ into a worse mess with me. A hundred crowns o’ damages’d be too little for me.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An’ he hasn’t got no hundred crowns in his pocket–the damned bankrupt! He’s been borrowing of everybody in the county. He’s got nothin’ but debts; you hear that on all sides. ‘Twon’t be long before there won’t be nothin’ left an’ he’ll have to leave the house hisself instead o’ puttin’ other people out of it!
GEORGE
[_Has recovered his overcoat, hung up his hat, and is now picking off the little feathers from his coat and trousers._] That’s right! An’ that’s no secret to nobody. Even the people that come here year in an’ out says the same. An’ nobody is sorry for him; no, they’re willin’ it should happen to him. My present boss, he can’t stand him neither. He gets reel venomous if you so much as mention Siebenhaar’s name. [_Takes a pocket-mirror and comb from his pocket and smooths his hair._] Lord knows, he says, there’s more tricks to that man than a few.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I believes that; I s’ppose he’s right there.
GEORGE
Now then, Hanne, has you got somethin’ warm for me?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Why didn’t you come yesterday?
GEORGE
You thinks I c’n get off every day, don’t you? ‘Twas hard enough to get to come here to-day! Yesterday I was busy till three o’clock in the mornin’.
MRS. HENSCHEL:
What was it happened?
GEORGE
There was a meetin’ o’ the fire board. They bought a new engine, an’ so they wanted to celebrate the purchase. That’s how they came to have a meetin’.
MRS. HENSCHEL
All they wants is an excuse to swill. An’ all that while I sat till late at night and waited. Once–I don’t know, but it must ha’ been a bird flyin’ against the window–I thought ’twas you, an’ so I went to the window an’ opened it. After that I was that mad, I couldn’t sleep half the night.
GEORGE
Oh, pshaw! What’s the use o’ havin’ things like that spoil one’s temper. [_He puts his arms around her._] That’s nothin’! Nothin’ at all.
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Frees herself from his embrace._] Oh, I don’t know! ‘Tis true–I don’t know how it comes–but things seem to go contrary with a body. Henschel sits aroun’ at home the whole week, an’ now that he’s gone for a bit, we has to let the time slide away!
GEORGE
Well, we got plenty o’ time to-day. He don’t come back till Monday, I thought.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who knows if it’s true!
GEORGE
I don’t know no reason why it shouldn’t be true!
MRS. HENSCHEL
That man is bound to sit aroun’ at home. ‘Twasn’t half as bad formerly. He used to go on trips weeks at a time; nowadays he whines if he’s got to sleep away from home a single night. An’ if he says: I’ll stay three days, he mostly comes back on the second–Listen … I believe they’ve come already! Who else’d be crackin’ whips like that in the yard?
GEORGE
[_After he has listened, in a restrained tone:_] The devil take ’em all–the whole damned crowd! A man hasn’t had time to get warm a bit. I s’pose I’ll have to leave right off, eh? I thought it’d be mighty different, I must say!
[_He slips his overcoat back on and takes up his hat._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Tears his hat from his head._] You stay right here! What d’you want to run off for? D’you think I got to be scared o’ Henschel. He’s got to come to my terms. I don’t has to think about him. If you’d come yesterday!–I told you …! Then nobody wouldn’t ha’ interrupted us, no Henschel an’ no Siebenhaar. To-day the devil’s broke loose!
_The horse dealer WALTHER enters–a handsome, vigorous fellow of forty. Bashly cap, fur jacket, hunting stockings and tall boots; his mits are fastened by cords._
WALTHER
Missis, your husband is outside in the yard. I’m just comin’ in for a minute to bid you good evenin’. I got to ride off again straight way. He’s bought some fine Flemish horses. An’ he’s brought along something else, for you too.
MRS. HENSCHEL
I thought he wouldn’t be comin’ back till Monday.
WALTHER
An’ that’s the way it would ha’ been. But we couldn’t ride on horseback no farther’n Kanth. There we had to take the train with the horses or they’d ha’ broken their necks an’ their limbs. Travellin’ was that bad on account o’ the sleet.
GEORGE
You makes better time with the train–that’s certain!
WALTHER
What kind of a feller is that there? Why, you’re tryin’ to be invisible, eh? Well, if that isn’t little George–I do believe! Why, you looks like a natural born baron!
GEORGE
A man earns more over there in the “Star” hotel. I has a much more profitable position. Here I had to work till my clothes dropped from me in rags. I was most naked in the end; now I’m beginnin’ to buy somethin’ again.
WALTHER
Now guess, missis, what your husband has brought home for you!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, what is it?
WALTHER
I wager you’ll be mighty glad of that present!
MRS. HENSCHEL
We’ll see. It depends on what it is.
WALTHER
Good luck to you then. I got to hurry or my wife’ll get ugly.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Good luck to you.
GEORGE
I might as well come along. Good night, Mrs. Henschel.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Didn’t you want to see Henschel about somethin’?
GEORGE
There’s plenty o’ time for that. There’s no hurry.
WALTHER
If you got somethin’ to say to him you’d better wait till to-morrow. He’s got different kinds o’ things in his mind to-day. D’you know what he’s bringin’ you, missis?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What should he be bringin’ me? Don’t talk so much nonsense.
WALTHER
Why, he’s bringin’ you your daughter!
MRS. HENSCHEL
–What’s that he’s bringin’? I didn’t hear right!
WALTHER
We was in Quolsdorf and fetched her.
MRS. HENSCHEL
You’re drunk, the two o’ ye, eh?
WALTHER
No, no, I’m tellin’ you the truth.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who did you get?
WALTHER
He didn’t tell me nothin’ about it. All of a sudden we was in the pub at Quolsdorf an’ sat down there.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, an’ what then?
WALTHER
We was sittin’ there an’ then, after a little while, your father came in with the bit of a girl.
MRS. HENSCHEL
‘Tis no girl o’ mine!
WALTHER
I don’t know nothin’ about that! I knows this much though: he’s got the child out there. He went up to your father an’ he said: The child’s a pretty child.–Then he took her in his arms an’ petted her. Shall I take you with me, he axes her, an’ she was willin’ right off.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Well, an’ my father?
WALTHER
Well, your father didn’t know who Henschel was!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Better an’ better! An’ is that all?
WALTHER
[_Almost addressing GEORGE now._] No, there was nothin’ more. He just took the little one out an’ said to your father: I’ll let the lass ride horseback. An’ she kept cryin’ out: Lemme ride! Lemme ride! Then Henschel mounted his great Flemish horse an’ I had to hand the child up to him. After that he said: Good-bye, an’ rode off.
MRS. HENSCHEL
An’ father just stood there an’ looked on?
WALTHER
What was he goin’ to do about it? The whole village might ha’ turned out for all the good it would ha’ done. When once Henschel lays his hands on somethin’–I wouldn’t advise nobody to cross him! An’ there’s no one in the county that likes to pick a quarrel with him neither! Your father, he didn’t know what was goin’ on. Then suddenly, o’ course, he roared like fury an’ cried out an’ cursed more’n enough. But the people just laughed. They knew Henschel. An’ he–Henschel–he just said reel quiet: Good luck to you, father Schäl; I’m takin’ her along. The mother is waitin’ for her at home. Stop drinkin’! he said, an’ maybe there’ll be a place with us for you some day, too.
GEORGE
Good-bye, I think I’ll maybe drop in to-morrow.
[_Exit._
MRS. HENSCHEL
An’ so he thinks I’m goin’ to keep her here. I’ll never do that–never in the world. She’s no child o’ mine! How would I be lookin’ before people? First in Quolsdorf, then here! Didn’t I work an’ worry enough? Day an’ night, you might say, I was busy with Gustel. An’ now the weary trouble is to begin all over again. That’d be fine, wouldn’t it? He’d better take care!
_HENSCHEL appears in the middle door. He is also clad in leathern breeches, fur jacket, tall boots, etc., just as he has dismounted. He leads by the hand a little girl of six–ragged and unwashed._
HENSCHEL
[_Almost merrily referring to HANNE’S last words, which he has overheard._] Who’s to take care?
MRS. HENSCHEL
–Oh, I don’t know!
HENSCHEL
Look, Hanne, look who comes here! [_To the child._] Go ahead, Berthel, an’ say good evenin’. Go on an’ say it! Say: Good evenin’, mama!
_BERTHEL leaving HENSCHEL unwillingly and walks, encouraged by friendly little shoves from him, diagonally across the room to where HANNE, assuming a disgruntled attitude, sits on the bench._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_To the child, who stands helplessly before her._] What do you want here?
BERTHEL
I rode on such a pitty horsie?
_HENSCHEL and WALTHER laugh heartily._
HENSCHEL
Well now we’ll keep her here. Hallo, Hanne! Are you angry about anythin’?
MRS. HENSCHEL
You are sayin’ you wouldn’t be back till Monday. There’s not a bite for supper in the house now.
HENSCHEL
There’ll be a bit o’ bread an’ bacon.
[_He hangs up his cap._
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_Pulling ungently at BERTHEL’S clothes._] How’d you get this way?
HENSCHEL
You’ll soon have to buy her somethin’ to put on! She’s got hardly nothin’ on her little body. ‘Twas a good thing I had plenty o’ blankets along, or she’d ha’ been half froze on the way. [_After he has removed his fur jacket and warmed his hands._] Best thing would be to put her right straight in a tub.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Best thing would ha’ been if you’d ha’ left her where she was.
HENSCHEL
What did you say?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Nothin’.
HENSCHEL
I thought you were sayin’ somethin’.–Into the tub with her! An’ then to bed! An’ you might go over her head a bit! I believe she’s got a little colony there. [_BERTHEL cries out._] What’s the matter? Don’t tug at her so rough!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Oh, don’t cry, girl! That’d be the last straw!
HENSCHEL
You must be a bit friendly with her. The lass is thankful for every kind word. Be quiet, Berthel, be quiet!
BERTHEL
I want to go to father!
HENSCHEL
You’re with mother now! Mother is good!–I’m reel satisfied that we has her with us. ‘Twas the highest time. A bit longer an’ we might ha’ had to look for her in the graveyard.
MRS. HENSCHEL
That wasn’t half as bad as you’re tryin’ to make out.
HENSCHEL
[_In some consternation but still kindly._] What’s the meanin’ o’ that?
[_Pause._]
WALTHER
Well, good luck to you all. I’ll have to be goin’.
HENSCHEL
Wait a bit an’ drink a glass o’ toddy.
MRS. HENSCHEL
If there were only some rum in the house!
HENSCHEL
Well, you can fetch it from Wermelskirch’s!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I don’t want to have nothin’ to do with those people!
WALTHER
No, no. I got to go home. I got no time. I got to be ridin’ half an hour yet. [_To HANNE._] I don’t want to be a bother to you.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who mentioned such a thing?
WALTHER
[_Humorously._] Nothin’! I didn’t say nothin’ at all. God forbid! I won’t let myself in for nothin’. You’re a hard customer. Good-bye an’ good luck!
HENSCHEL
Good-bye, an’ don’t forget a greetin’ to the wife!
WALTHER
[_Already from outside._] All right! Good night! I won’t forget nothin’.
[_Exit._
HENSCHEL
Well, didn’t I do the right thing this time?
MRS. HENSCHEL
What is I to say to people?
HENSCHEL
–You’re not goin’ to be ashamed o’ your own daughter!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Who’s sayin’ I is, eh? ‘Tis all the same to me! You’re willin’ to have ’em say evil o’ me. You force ’em to it! [_Harshly to the child._] Here, drink this milk! An’ then off to bed with you! [_BERTHEL drinks._]
HENSCHEL
Are you goin’ to go on this way?
MRS. HENSCHEL
Go on how?
HENSCHEL
With the child!
MRS. HENSCHEL
I’m not goin’ to bite her; there’s no fear!
[_She takes the still weeping child into the little room to bed._
HENSCHEL
[_Speaking after her._] She’s not here to be bitten. I needn’t ha’ brought her, you know!
[_A brief pause, after which HANNE returns._
HENSCHEL
A man can’t never know how to please you. There’s no gettin’ along with women folks. You always acted as if….
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_With tears of rage._] That’s a lie if you want to know it!
HENSCHEL
What’s a lie!
MRS. HENSCHEL
[_As above._] I never bothered you about Berthel. I never so much as mentioned her to you!
HENSCHEL
I didn’t say you had. Why d’you howl so? On that account, because you didn’t say nothin’, I wanted to help you in spite o’ your silence.
MRS. HENSCHEL
But couldn’t you ha’ asked? A man ought to say somethin’ before he does a thing like that!
HENSCHEL
Well now, I’ll tell you somethin’: This is Saturday night. I hurried all I could so’s to be at home again. I thought you’d meet me different! But if it’s not to be, it can’t be helped. Only, leave me in peace! You understand!
MRS. HENSCHEL
Nobody’s robbin’ you o’ your peace.
HENSCHEL
D’you hear me? I want my peace an’ that’s all. You brought me to that point. I didn’t think nothin’ but what was good doin’ this thing. Gustel is dead. She won’t come back no more. Her mother took her to a better place. The bed is empty, an’ we’re alone. Why shouldn’t we take care o’ the little lass? That’s the way I thinks an’ I’m not her father! You ought to think so all the more, ’cause you’re the child’s mother!
MRS. HENSCHEL
There you are! You’re beginnin’ to throw it up to me this minute!
HENSCHEL
If you don’t stop I’ll go to Wermelskirch an’ not come back all night! D’you want to drive me out o’ the house?–I’m always hopin’ things’ll be different, but they gets worse … worse! I thought maybe if you had your child with you, you’d learn a little sense. If these goin’s on don’t end soon …
MRS. HENSCHEL
All I say is this: If she stays in the house an’ if you tell people that she’s mine …
HENSCHEL
They all know it! I don’t have to tell ’em.
MRS. HENSCHEL
Then you c’n take your oath on it–I’ll run away!
HENSCHEL
Run, run all you can–all you want to! You ought to be ashamed o’ yourself to the bottom o’ your heart!
THE CURTAIN FALLS.
THE FOURTH ACT
_The tap room in WERMELSKIRCH’S public house. A flat, whitewashed room with a door leading to the inner rooms of the house on the left. The rear wall of this room is broken, toward its middle. The opening leads to a second, smaller, oblong room. On the right wall of this second room there is a glass door leading out into the open and, farther forward, a window. On the rear wall of the main room the bar is situated, filled with square whisky-bottles, glasses, etc. The beer is also on draught there. Highly varnished tables and chairs of cherry wood are scattered about the room. A red curtain divides the two rooms. In the oblong rear room are also chairs and tables and, in the extreme background, a billiard table. Lithographs, representing mainly hunting scenes, are hung on the walls._
_WERMELSKIRCH, in a dressing gown and smoking a long pipe, sits on the left, himself playing the piano. Three members of the voluntary fire-corps play billiards. In the foreground to the right HAUFFE sits brooding over a glass of whisky. He is noticeably shabby. MRS. WERMELSKIRCH, a gipsy-like, slovenly old woman, is rinsing glasses behind the bar. FRANZISKA is crouching on a window ledge at the right playing with a kitten. The waiter GEORGE is standing at the bar over a glass of beer. He has an elegant spring suit on, as well as patent-leather shoes, kid-gloves and a top-hat set far back on his head._
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Plays and sings._]
“When I was prince in realms Arcadian, I lived in splendour and in wealth.”
GEORGE
[_Who has accompanied the music by dancing gestures._] Go on, go on with, that!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Coughing affectedly._] Can’t be done! Quite hoarse! Anyhow … pshaw!… I’ll try again.
“When I was prince ….” [_He coughs._]
“When I was prince in realms Arcadian, I lived in splen … I lived in splen … “!
The devil take it!
GEORGE
Aw, why don’t you go on? That was quite right! That was fine!
WERMELSKIRCH
I see myself trying! It’s all over with me!
GEORGE
I don’t understand you! That’s the finest kind o’ chamber music!
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Laughing._] Chamber music!
GEORGE
Well, maybe not! I don’t know the differences so well. Hallo, Miss Franziska, what are you laughin’ at?
FRANZISKA
I’m laughing at your beautiful patent-leather boots.
GEORGE
Go right ahead! You don’t expect me to go barefoot. Give that man over there a glass of beer. How would you like a bit o’ cordial, Miss Franziska? You’re right, my boots is pretty fine ones. They cost me twenty crowns. Why not? I c’n stand the expense; I’m able to do it! In the “Sword” hotel a man c’n at least earn somethin’. To be sure, while I was at the “Star” I couldn’t ha’ bought no boots like this.
WERMELSKIRCH
So you like it better at the “Sword”?
GEORGE
I should say so! A boss like I got now, a reel good fellow–I never had before long’s I’ve been in the business. We’re like old friends–like brothers. I could say most anythin’ to him!
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, that’s very different from Siebenhaar.
_FRANZISKA laughs out._
GEORGE
An’ that just shows you: Pride goeth before a fall. Two or three weeks an’ he’ll be under the hammer. Then I c’n buy myself his gold watch.
WERMELSKIRCH
You’d better buy the whole house!
GEORGE
Not just now. You got to wait for the proper time to do a thing like that. An’ anyhow, it’s sold. Your health, gentlemen!… Your health, gentlemen! When you’re through, I’ll order more! What’s the name o’ the man that bought the house? Exner? Eh? He’s goin’ to bottle the spring water an’ export it. He’s goin’ to rent out the hotel.–I’d rent it this minute if I had the money.
HAUFFE
Why don’t you go to Henschel? He’ll give it to you.
GEORGE
That wouldn’t be as much out o’ the question as you thinks.
HAUFFE
No, that a fac’! You’re on pretty good terms with the wife!
[_FRANZISKA laughs aloud._]
GEORGE
Well, why shouldn’t I be. That there woman’s not half bad. I tell you, a fellow that knows how, c’n make the women feed out o’ his hand!
HAUFFE
Well, if you know enough to make Mrs. Henschel feed out o’ your hand, you must know your business pretty well. I’ll say that for you.
_FABIG enters, the cord of his pack around his shoulders. He sits down modestly in a corner._
GEORGE
Well, there you are; that’s what I’m tellin’ you! There’s pretty few that could come up to me that way. But a man has to be on the lookout, or he’d get a good beatin’ an’ that’s all!
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, you’re not through with it yet yourself. [_SIEBENHAAR enters from the left._] Where Henschel strikes down the grass stops growing. Your servant, Mr. Siebenhaar!
SIEBENHAAR
[_Somewhat pale._] Good morning!
GEORGE
I think I’ll play a game o’ billiards.
[_He takes up his glass and disappears behind the curtain in the rear._
SIEBENHAAR
[_Sitting down at a table near the piano._] Weren’t you just singing, Mr. Wermelskirch? Don’t let me interrupt you, please.
WERMELSKIRCH
What? I? Singing? That’s hardly possible! You know how deeply this business affects me. But if you say so it must be true. Permit me to sit down by you. Bring me a glass of beer, too, Franziska!
SIEBENHAAR
When one considers that you were completely hoarse three or four years ago, you must admit that you’ve recuperated remarkably.
WERMELSKIRCH
You’re quite right. But what good does it do me? I’ve half way crawled out of the slough. But who knows what’ll happen now?
FRANZISKA
[_Places a glass of beer before SIEBENHAAR; to WERMELSKIRCH:_] I’ll bring yours at once.
SIEBENHAAR
[_Having drunk._] What do you mean by that, exactly?
WERMELSKIRCH
I don’t know that I can tell you very exactly what I do mean. But I feel something in my bones. I believe there’ll be a change in the weather. Jesting aside–I have all kinds of omens that are familiar to an old actor. When the waters here began to do me so much good, I knew certainly that ten horses couldn’t drag me away. And it wasn’t a month before my road company had gone to smash. Now I suppose I’ll have to wander on in the same old way again–who knows whither?
SIEBENHAAR
Who knows whither? That’s the way of the world. As for me–I’m not sorry!
WERMELSKIRCH
Ah, but you’re a man in the prime of life. The world has a place for a man like you everywhere. It’s different with an old fellow like me. If I lose my means of making a living, I mean, if I’m given notice, what is there left me, I’d like to know? I might actually get me a hurdy-gurdy and Franziska could go about and collect the pennies.
FRANZISKA
That wouldn’t embarrass me a bit, papa!
WERMELSKIRCH
Not if it were to rain gold pieces!
FRANZISKA
And, anyhow, papa, how you always talk! You could go back on the stage!
WERMELSKIRCH
Not even at a monkey-show, girlie!
SIEBENHAAR
Did Mr. Exner intimate anything to you? According to what he told me he meant to leave everything pretty much as it is.
WERMELSKIRCH
Well, I hardly belong to what could be summed up as “everything.”
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
[_Approaching the table in great excitement._] I must say, Mr. Siebenhaar, I must say … And you can take my word for it! I’m an old woman of fifty and I’ve seen a good deal of the world, but the way we’ve been treated here–that’s really–I don’t know what to call it–but it’s just vulgar malice, the lowest kind of scheming, pure meanness. You can take my word for that!
WERMELSKIRCH
Oh, mother, are you starting in too? You’d better withdraw, if you don’t mind, and retire behind your barricade!
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
I’d like to know what our little Fanny did to that woman!
FRANZISKA
Oh, never mind, mama!
MRS. WERMELSKIRCH
On the contrary! Are we to put up with everything? Isn’t one to offer any resistance if that woman robs us of our very bread–if she spreads slander about our daughter? [_To SIEBENHAAR._] Did the child ever offend you in any way?
WERMELSKIRCH
Mama, mama! Come along now, mama, and rest a while. So! You spoke your part very well indeed. You can repeat it to-night.
[_He leads her behind the bar where her sobbing is heard for some time after._
WERMELSKIRCH
[_Having resumed his seat._] She’s quite right at bottom. I’ve heard all kinds of rumours too, to the effect that Henschel will rent the barroom. And, of course, his wife is behind that!
HAUFFE
An’ who else’d be back of it I’d like to know? If there’s anythin’ low happenin’ in the village nowadays, you don’t has to go an ax who’s back of it! That Henschel woman’s got the devil in her!
FABIG
An’ she’s had her eye on the barroom this long time.
SIEBENHAAR
[_To_ HAUFFE.] One hardly ever sees you any longer, Hauffe? Where did you land?
HAUFFE
Where d’you suppose? In misery an’ hunger’ An’ who gave me the shove? That damned crittur of a woman! Who else’d do it, I’d like to know! I never had no trouble with Henschel!
FABIG
His wife has the breeches on–that’s all!
HAUFFE
I wasn’t quick enough for her no more. I’m not as young as I was–that’s a fac’! An’ I don’t go hangin’ aroun’ no woman’s apron strings neither. An’ that there is what she wants. That’s what you got to do with her! She’s a hot one–you might say–she don’t never get enough.–But as for workin’: I c’n work! Them young fellers that she hires–they’re that stinkin’ lazy…. I could do as much as any three of ’em.
SIEBENHAAR
One feels sorry for old Henschel.
HAUFFE
If he’s satisfied, I don’t care. But he ought to know why my bones is stiff! They didn’t get stiff with lazyin’ aroun’, an’ if that man has a chest full o’ money to-day, he knows who it is that helped him earn a good lot of it!
SIEBENHAAR
I recall very well that you even worked for Wilhelm Henschel’s father.
HAUFFE
Well, who else but me! That’s the way it is! An’ I fed Wilhelm’s horses eighteen years an’ more–hitched ’em up an’ unhitched ’em–went on trips summer an’ winter. I drove ‘s far’s Freiburg an’ ‘s far’s Breslau: I had to drive ‘way to Bromberg. Many a night I had to sleep in the waggon. I got my ears an’ my hands frost bitten: I got chilblains on both feet big as pears. An’ now he puts me out! Now I c’n go!
FABIG
That’s all the woman’s doin’s: he’s a good man.
HAUFFE
Why did he go an’ load hisself with that wench! Now he can look out for hisself! An’ he couldn’t hardly wait to do it decent. His first wife–she wasn’t hardly cold when he ran to get married to this one!
SIEBENHAAR
Well, no one knew her, of course.
FABIG
I knew her well enough. O Lord–that I did! If he’d ha’ axed me, I could ha’ told him! If he wanted to send Gustel after her mother, there wasn’t no surer way for him to take: all he had to do was to make Hanne the child’s step-mother.
HAUFFE
Ah yes, yes … well, well … I’m not sayin’ nothin’ more. There’s many a one has shaken his head about that! But that’ll be comin’ home to him some day. First people just wondered; now they’d believe anythin’ of him.
SIEBENHAAR
That’s undoubtedly mere idle talk.
_The horse dealer WALTHER enters in riding boots, hunting jacket and cap. His whip is in his hand. He sits down at one of the tables and beckons FRANZISKA to bring him beer._
HAUFFE
You c’n say that. Maybe it’s true. But if the dead was to come back an’ was to say their say–’tis old Mrs. Henschel that could tell you a thing or two. She couldn’t live an’ she didn’t want to live! An’ what’s the main thing–she wasn’t to live!
SIEBENHAAR
Hauffe, you’d better take care! If Henschel were to get wind of that …
HAUFFE
I wouldn’t have to take care if he did! I’d say that to anyone’s face. Old Mrs. Henschel–she was meant to die! If they pisened her, I couldn’t say; I wasn’t on the spot. But that thing didn’t happen no natural way. She was a well woman; she might ha’ lived thirty years.
_SIEBENHAAR drinks and rises._
WALTHER
I c’n bear witness that she was well. She was my own sister an’ I ought to know. She was in the way an’ had to go.
_SIEBENHAAR leaves quietly._
WERMELSKIRCH
Would you like a little snuff, gentlemen? [_Softly and confidentially._] And don’t you think, gentlemen, that you’re going a little far? It seems so to me. I wish you would watch the man. He sat here till quite late yesterday. The man sighed so pitifully–there was no one else here–that I really felt very sorry for him.
HAUFFE
‘Tis his bad conscience that’s botherin’ him!
WALTHER
Don’t talk to me about Henschel! I’m sick o’ hearin’ about him. He an’ me–we’re through with each other this long time.
WERMELSKIRCH
No, no, Mr. Siebenhaar is right. One ought to feel sorry for him.
WALTHER
He c’n think about it what he pleases. I don’t care. But what I ought to think about Henschel–there’s nobody that need tell me nothin’ about that!
_HENSCHEL and the smith HILDEBRANT enter at the right. HENSCHEL is carrying little BERTHA, more neatly dressed than formerly, on his arm. A little pause of embarrassment falls upon the men._
WERMELSKIRCH
Welcome, Mr. Henschel.
HENSCHEL
Good mornin’, all of ye.
FRANZISKA
Well, Berthel, how are you?
HENSCHEL
Say thank you! Well, can’t you talk?–We gets along. A body has to be satisfied. Good mornin’, brother. [_He stretches out his hand carelessly to WALTHER who takes it in the same fashion._] How are you? How’s everythin’?
WALTHER
I gets along as usual. ‘Twouldn’t be bad if it was better! You’re a reg’lar nurse girl nowadays!
HENSCHEL
True, true! ‘Tis almost that!