Honor: A Play in Four Acts - LightNovelsOnl.com
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Robert. (_To himself with a sigh of relief_) Oh, now I'm doubly curious to know what satisfaction he'll offer--and I shall have to refuse!
Refuse a duel!--They'll call me a coward and I'll be dishonored! Oh, well, I don't need their honor, I have to earn my bread.
Frau Heinecke. (_Entering_) Everything is laid out on the table--or do you want to write here?
Robert. No, no, I shan't be disturbed in there.
Frau Heinecke. You look tired. You must rest a little!
Robert. (_Shakes his head_) If Herr Muhlingk, Junior, sends word, or comes himself, call me. (_He goes off_)
Frau Heinecke. (_Sinking to the chair_) India!
Heinecke. Drag us old folks half round the world!
Frau Heinecke. Lord Almighty!
Heinecke. What is it?
Frau Heinecke. Michalskis!
Heinecke. What? Them! (_b.u.t.tons his coat_) They'd better come!
(_A knock is heard._)
Both. (_Quietly_) Come in!
(_Enter_ Michalski _and_ Auguste.)
Michalski. Morning!
Frau Heinecke. Shh!
Heinecke. (_Threatening with his fist_) You--you two--get out of here!
Auguste. (_Sitting down_) It's right cold this morning!
Michalski. (_Sits down and uncorks a bottle_) Here's a bottle of liqueur I've brought you. Extra fine--Get me a corkscrew.
Frau Heinecke. Some other time! We have orders to throw you out the door!
Auguste. Who said so?
Frau Heinecke. Shh! Robert!
Auguste. What? You let him order you around in your own house.
Heinecke. (_In an undertone_) Shh! he's In the bedroom there.
Auguste. (_Pityingly_) Poor father! He's trembling with fear!
Michalski. The idea of frightening two honest people like that! The scoundrel!
Frau Heinecke. He ain't a scoundrel! He's a good boy and he's going to take care of us!
Heinecke. Even if he does want us to go to India!
Both. What! Where?
Frau Heinecke. To India.
Auguste. What for?
Frau Heinecke. Just because Alma wanted to go to a masked ball.
Michalski. Crazy!
Frau Heinecke. The few pieces of furniture that made the home so friendly we've got to leave 'em all behind.
Auguste. (_Sentimentally_) And poor me, are you going to leave me, too?--Are you going to sell 'em?
Frau Heinecke. The furniture? (Auguste _nods_) We'll have to.
Auguste. The mirror and chairs, too? (Frau Heinecke _nods--With feeling_) If I was in your place, instead of selling them for a song, I'd give them to your daughter you're leaving behind. Then you'd be sure they'd be in good hands!
Frau Heinecke. (_Looking at her suspiciously, then confidentially, to her husband_) Father! she wants the arm-chairs already.
Auguste. (_Returning to the subject_) Or if you will sell 'em, we would always be the ones to pay the highest, just to keep them in the family.
Heinecke. But we ain't gone yet.
Michalski. If I was in your place----
Frau Heinecke. What'll we do? Now, we're absolutely dependent on him!
When he orders, we've got to obey, or else we're put on your hands.
Auguste. We haven't enough to eat for ourselves.
(_A knock is heard. Enter_ Councillor Muhlingk.
_All start up frightened._)
Muhlingk. Good-morning, my people. Is your son at home?
Heinecke. (_Humbly_) Yes, sir.
