Honor: A Play in Four Acts Part 8

(Frau Heinecke _goes out._)

Trast. Now confess, my boy! Trust in me!

Robert. Oh, if I had only never seen my home again!

Trast. Ha! so that's where the wind blows from.

Robert. I am ashamed of the position I was born in. My own people have become nothing to me. My whole being shudders from contact with them. I can't trust my mind, one mad suspicion follows the other! Trast! I almost believe I don't even respect the breast that nursed me!

Trast. That's simply rot!

Robert. If I could only explain what I have suffered! Every serious word strikes me like a blow! And every pleasantry like a slap in the face! It seems as though they could talk of nothing but what hurts me--I thought I was coming back to a home,--instead of that it's a strange world where I dare hardly breathe!--Advise me what to do!

Trast. Pack your trunk!

Robert. That would be a cowardly and heartless retreat! Do they deserve that--My own parents!

Trast. Listen--drop the pathetic note--The matter is simple enough for us. We've studied caste in its native wilds. The same castes exist here. They aren't established by food-laws, or marriage-rules and religious etiquette; those were simple. The chasm that can't be bridged is the difference of feeling--each caste has its own sense of honor, its own nice distinctions, its own ideas, yes, even its own speech.

Unhappy is the man who has fallen out of his own caste and hasn't the courage to cut himself off from it entirely. Just such a decla.s.se are you!--and you know, I was the same thing myself! Just what you are feeling now, I went through years ago. How do you suppose I felt, _chic_ young cavalry officer, when I woke one morning to the realization that I had gambled away ninety thousand talers that had to be paid in twenty-four hours. What good did it do me to ride home and throw myself at my father's feet? He would have put his head in p.a.w.n to save the honor of our name--but he had already done so! And, since he had nothing else to give me, he gave me at least his curse!

Robert. (_Brooding_) How you had the courage to live after that!

Trast. Do you know what happened then?

Robert. (_Absently, tortured by his own thoughts_) I know nothing--nothing--nothing!

Trast. Then listen to me! Perhaps it may be of use to you. When my comrades said farewell to me they did me the last favor of placing a c.o.c.ked revolver on my table. I looked at the matter from all sides. I took for granted that, without my honor I could not live. Then, as I pointed the thing to my forehead the thought came to me--this is brutal, this is silly! How different are you to-day from what you were three days ago? Perhaps you deserved punishment for having promised money that you didn't have; but not death! For thousands of years men have enjoyed the light of the sun without letting the phantom of honor darken it. To-day nine hundred and ninety thousands of people belong to that same cla.s.s, live as they did, and work as they did, and enjoy the sun as they did! Twelve years later--of course my debt was long since cancelled--when I came back to Europe a sort of reconciliation took place between my father and me. But it was only an outward reconciliation. If he had found me, like a prodigal son, lying on his doorstep, he would have lifted me up from the dirt with trembling hands and pressed me to his bosom. Since I carried my head a little defiantly and was in a position to help him out with half a million or so he couldn't forgive me. A few weeks later I left. The rich coffee seller and the poor cavalier had nothing in common.

Robert. And now he's dead!

Trast. May he find peace in the heaven he believed in! Now the moral: leave your parents their point of view. You can't change that. Give where there is need--give all you have, and then--come with me!

Robert. I can't! Listen, I'll tell you why. I didn't tell you before because I was ashamed. I have a little sister, she was a baby when I left. Oh, how I longed to see her and looked forward to the meeting!

And I wasn't disappointed, for she was prettier and sweeter than I had hoped! But my love for her before a thousand fears I am afraid to mention! For what she does and lets others do with her--in perfect innocence, of course--goes against every feeling of honor I possess!

Just now when you were telling about that girl in the dance-hall; a cold s.h.i.+ver went through me! Because--no, no, a thousand times no! Here is my place! I must stay here, to stand or fall!

Trast. I admit you have reasons that are at least worth considering.

But you are excited. I'll wager you are looking at the dark side!

Robert. Would to G.o.d! (_He sits down_)

(_Enter_ Alma, _with a tea-tray, upon which is a bottle of wine and three gla.s.ses. The Count makes a start_, Alma _cries out. The tea-tray almost falls_)

Trast. (_Quickly seizing the situation, steps to her aid_) Came near being a catastrophe, Fraulein! (_Aside_) It is a catastrophe!

Robert. See, Trast, this is she! Isn't she an angel? There, give him your hand, and tell him he's welcome!

Alma. (_Aside_) Don't tell on me--eh?

Trast. (_Aside_) Poor devil! How can I get him out of it?

CURTAIN.

ACT II.

Scene:--_The drawing-room in the_ Muhlingk's _house_ (_The "Vorderhaus"_). _The furnis.h.i.+ngs are rich but rather stiff. At the back, a wide door hung with portieres opens into the dining-room. On the left, beside a fire-place is a sofa and an oval table. Beside it a rocking-chair. In the dining-room the richly set table can be seen.

Dinner is over and a servant is clearing away the things_. Herr Muhlingk, Frau Muhlingk, Kurt _and_ Leonore _are drinking coffee in the drawing-room. The servant who has pa.s.sed the cups goes out_.

Kurt. As I remarked before, the black horse is fine!

Kurt. Expensive it certainly is!

Frau Muhlingk. I shall make up the rest of the money, just to stop the argument.

Kurt. (_Kisses her hand_) My best thanks, Mama;--Now I can show myself to Berlin mounted and spurred!--You can admire me, too, Lori!

Leonore. (_Without looking up from her book_) Yes, my dear.

Kurt. Lothar Brandt and Hugo Stengel wanted to come out to see the beast. Perhaps that doesn't interest you either, Lori?

Leonore. They will probably come often. They haven't anything else to do. (_Looking at the clock--aside_) Oh, how the time drags! (_The servant goes out_)

Frau Muhlingk. You must not speak so harshly about these gentlemen, my child. You know Lothar wants to pay court to you.

Leonore. Really?

Frau Muhlingk. Haven't you noticed it?

Leonore. I haven't paid any particular attention.

Frau Muhlingk. (_To her husband_) It's unbearable, Theodore!

Muhlingk. We've had enough of this tone, my child. Even the pride in your paternal bank account has its limits.

Leonore. (_Looking at him_) Pride in the paternal bank account?

Muhlingk. Well, how can we explain this manner you have a.s.sumed for the last ten years, sending home every rich and respected man who has proposed to you?--I am a simple, middle-cla.s.s man. I made my own way with my own help----

Kurt. That is to say, he married a rich wife.

Muhlingk. What's that, Kurt?