The Joy Of Living (Es Lebe Das Leben) - LightNovelsOnl.com
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And Madame von Volkerlingk?
Richard.
My wife? Why do you ask?
Brachtmann.
Look at this. (_Leads_ Richard _to the writing-table and points to the paper_. Richard _starts, but controls himself instantly_.)
Prince.
We were just wondering how we could get rid of the thing before it is discovered, and we had reluctantly decided that none of us is sufficiently intimate here to tamper with the Countess's papers. Now, if _you_, my dear Baron--as an old friend of the family--knowing how important it is to spare her any excitement----
Richard (_looking at him sharply_).
There is only one person ent.i.tled to remove that paper, and that is Count Kellinghausen. I will speak to him at once.
Prince (_aside_).
Irreproachable!
Brachtmann.
My dear Volkerlingk, for heaven's sake leave Kellinghausen out of the question!
Richard.
How can I?
Brachtmann.
I have been in politics long enough to take such incidents philosophically. But Kellinghausen, easy-going as he is, strikes me as the kind of man who might make an a.s.s of himself in such an emergency.
If he loses his head he may do the party an incalculable amount of harm; whereas, if we can keep this thing from him, it will blow over in a week, and n.o.body be any the worse for it.
Richard.
But you forget that I am as much involved in this as Kellinghausen. It is impossible that I should stand aside and allow any reflection to be cast on--er----
Brachtmann.
You are quite right. But wait a moment. You said you meant to bring the matter up in committee, which is undoubtedly the proper way of dealing with it. The committee meets the day after to-morrow; and all I ask is that you should say nothing till then.
Richard.
And suppose I agree to that what becomes of this paper? (_Pointing to the writing-table_.) What if the Countess finds it?
von Berkelwitz.
Gentlemen, I'm only a plain country squire, and I haven't your refinements of conscience. (_He takes the paper, tears it up and throws it into the wastepaper basket_. Brachtmann _and the_ Prince _laugh_.)
von Berkelwitz.
After which act of felony I suppose I had better make my escape.
(_Shakes hands with the others and goes out_.)
Brachtmann.
Then it's understood that, in the interests of the party, you will----
Prince.
'Sh. Here is our host.
Kellinghausen _enters_.
Kellinghausen.
Ah, there you are, Richard! My dear fellow, I've been hunting for you high and low. I was actually reduced to asking Madame von Volkerlingk where you were. "My dear Count," she said, "it's fifteen years since I've known where my husband was." Nice reputation you've got! Well, now I've run you to earth, sit down and let's have a talk. (_To the others_.) I haven't had a chance to say two words to him yet.
Prince.
My dear Brachtmann, shall we----?
Kellinghausen.
No, no; don't run off. Richard and I have no secrets. Let us take possession of this quiet corner. (_To_ Conrad, _who is pa.s.sing with a tray of refreshments_.) Conrad, what have you got there? Lion brew from the wood, eh?
Conrad.
Yes, your Excellency.
Kellinghausen.
That's what we always had at Bismarck's. H'm--in those days there was a power in the land. It weighed on us rather heavily at times, but we were none the worse for it. Your health, Richard, my dear fellow!
Gentlemen, your healths! How deuced quiet you all are! You look as if I'd invited you to my own funeral. Good Lord, if you knew how glad I am to have got the Reichstag off my shoulders!--The other day, down at the polls, I said to one of our Lengenfeld peasants: "My dear friend--"
(they're all our dear friends at election-time; we even have to put up with being _their_ dear friends). "My dear friend," said I, "I hope you're going to vote for my successor?"--"What will he give me for it?"
says he. "What will the Socialist give you?" said I. "The Socialist will call you all names, and I like to hear you called names. It makes me laugh," the fellow answered. And he was right. We must amuse the ma.s.ses and they'll love us. Circus-riding, my dear friends that's all the n.o.bility are good for!
Brachtmann.
We shall miss your cheerful view of life, my dear Kellinghausen.
Kellinghausen.
H'm--that's about the only epitaph I can hope for. Ha! ha!--Well--I say, Richard, what sort of a fellow is that Meixner? (_The others look up quickly_.) Wasn't he your secretary at one time?
Richard.