FLAMM
[With despairing passion.] Girl, I don't care if it costs me everything …
[He embraces her and kisses her again and again.
ROSE
[Suddenly in extreme terror.] For the love o' … some one's comin', Mr. Flamm!
FLAMM in consternation, jumps up and disappears behind a bush.
ROSE gets up hastily, straightens her hair and her dress and looks anxiously about her. As no one appears she takes up the hoe and begins to weed the potato patch. After a while there approaches, unnoticed by her, the machinist ARTHUR STRECKMANN dressed in his Sunday coat. He is what would generally be called a handsome man—large, broad-shouldered, his whole demeanour full of self-importance. He has a blond beard that extends far down his chest. His garments, from his jauntily worn huntsman's hat to his highly polished boots, his walking coat and his embroidered waistcoat, are faultless and serve to show, in connection with his carriage, that STRECKMANN not only thinks very well of himself but is scrupulously careful of his person and quite conscious of his unusual good looks.
STRECKMANN
[As though but now becoming conscious of ROSE'S presence, in an affectedly well-modulated voice.] Good day, Rosie.
ROSE
[Turns frightened.] Good day, Streckmann. [In an uncertain voice] Why, where did you come from? From church?
STRECKMANN
I went away a bit early.
ROSE
[Excitedly and reproachfully.] What for? Couldn't you put up with the sermon?
STRECKMANN
[Boldly.] Oh, it's such beautiful weather out. An' that's why! I left my wife in the church too. A feller has got to be by himself once in a while.
ROSE
I'd rather be in church.
STRECKMANN
That's where the women folks belongs.
ROSE
I shouldn't wonder if you had your little bundle o' sins. You might ha' been prayin' a bit.
STRECKMANN
I'm on pretty good terms with the Lord. He don't keep such very particular accounts o' my sins.
ROSE
Well, well!
STRECKMANN
No, he don't bother with me much.
ROSE
A vain, fool—that's what you is!
STRECKMANN laughs in a deep and affected tone.
ROSE
If you was a real man, you wouldn't have to go an' beat your wife at home.
STRECKMANN
[With a gleam in his eyes.] That shows that I'm a real man! That shows it! That's proper! A man's got to show you women that he's the master.
ROSE
Don't be fancyin' such foolishness.
STRECKMANN
That's so, for all you say. Right is right. An' I never failed to get what I was wantin' that way.
ROSE laughs constrainedly.
STRECKMANN
People says you're goin' to leave Flamm's service.
ROSE
I'm not in Flamm's service at all. You see now that I'm doin' other things.
STRECKMANN
You were helpin' at Flamm's no later'n yesterday.
ROSE
Maybe so! Maybe I was or maybe I wasn't! Look after your own affairs.
STRECKMANN
Is it true that your father has moved?
ROSE
Where to?
STRECKMANN
With August over into Lachmann's house.
ROSE
August hasn't even bought the house yet. Those people—they knows more than I.
STRECKMANN
An' they says too that you'll be celebratin' your weddin' soon.
ROSE
They can be talkin' for all I care.
STRECKMANN
[After a brief silence approaches her and stands before her with legs wide apart.] Right you are! You can marry him any time. A fine girl like you don't need to hurry so; she can have a real good time first! I laughed right in his face when he told me. There's no one believes him.
ROSE
[Quickly.] Who's been sayin' it?
STRECKMANN
August Keil.
ROSE
August himself? An' this is what he gets from his silly talkin'.
STRECKMANN
[After a silence.] August he's such a peevish kind….
ROSE
I don't want to hear nothing. Leave me alone! Your quarrels don't concern me! One o' you is no better'n another.
STRECKMANN
Well, in some things—when it comes to bein' bold.
ROSE
Oh, heavens! That boldness o' yours. We knows that. Go about an' asks the women folks a bit. No, August isn't that kind.
STRECKMANN
[Laughs with lascivious boastfulness.] I'm not denyin' that.
ROSE
An' you couldn't.
STRECKMANN
[Looking at her sharply through half-closed lids.] It's not comfortable to make a fool o' me. What I wants of a woman—I gets.
ROSE
[Jeeringly.] Oho!
STRECKMANN
Yes, oho! What would you wager, Rosie! You been makin' eyes at me many a time.
[He has approached and offered to put his arms around her.
ROSE
Don't be foolish, Streckmann! Keep your hands off o' me!
STRECKMANN
If it was….
ROSE
[Thrusts him away.] Streckmann! I've been tellin' you! I don't want to have nothin' to do with you men. Go your own way.
STRECKMANN
What am I doin' to you?—[After a silence with a smile that is half malicious, half embarrassed.] You wait! You'll be comin' to me one o' these days! I'm tellin' you: you'll be comin' to me yourself some day! You can act as much like a saint as you wants to.—D'you see that cross? D'you see that tree? Confound it! There's all kinds o' things! I've been no kind o' a saint myself! But … right under a cross … you might be sayin' just that … I'm not so very partic'lar, but I'd take shame at that. What would your father be sayin' or August? Now, just f'r instance: this pear tree is hollow. Well an' good. There was a rifle in there.
ROSE
[Has been listening more and more intently in the course of her work. Deadly pale and quivering she bursts out involuntarily:] What are you sayin'?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'!—I'm sayin' nothin' more.—But when a feller hasn't no notion of nothin' an' is thinkin' no ill, a wench like you acts as high an' mighty!
ROSE
[Losing self-control and leaping in front of him in her terror.] What is't you say?
STRECKMANN
[Calmly returning her terrible gaze.] I said: A wench like you.
ROSE
An' what's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
That's got no special meanin'.
ROSE
[Clenches her fists and pierces him with her eyes in an intense passion of rage, hate, terror and consternation until in the consciousness of her powerlessness she drops her arms and utters almost whiningly the words:] I'll know how to get my good right about this!
[Holding her right arm before her weeping eyes and wiping her face with the left, she returns, sobbing brokenly, to her work.
STRECKMANN
[Looks after her with his old expression of malicious coldness and determination. Gradually he is seized with a desire to laugh and finally bursts out:] That's the way things go! Don't worry a bit.—What do you take me for anyhow, Rose? What's the row about? This kind o' thing don't do no harm! Why shouldn't a person fool her neighbours? Why not? Who made 'em so stupid? Them as can do it are the finest women in the world! Of course, a man like me knows how things are! You can believe me—I've always known about you.
ROSE
[Beside herself.] Streckmann! I'll do myself some harm! Do you hear? Or else go away from our bit o' patch! Go … I … something awful will happen, I tell you!
STRECKMANN
[Sits down and claps his flat hands over his knees.] For goodness' sake! Don't carry on so! D'you think I'll be goin' about everywhere an' tellin' what I know an' rakin' you over the coals? How does it concern me, I'd like to know, what your goin's on are?
ROSE
I'll go home an' hang myself on a beam! That's what Mary Schubert did too.
STRECKMANN
That was a different thing with her! That girl had different things on her conscience! An' I didn't have nothin' to do with her.—But if every woman was to go an' hang herself on account o' what you've done—there wouldn't be no more women in this world. That sort o' thing happens wherever you look—everywhere—that's the way things is. O' course, I have to laugh. That father o' yours, he carries himself so high! The way he stares at a feller that's gone a bit off the narrow way. It's enough to make you want to go an' hide your face. Well—people ought to begin at home …
ROSE
[Trembling in the terror of her heart.] O dear Lord, have mercy!
STRECKMANN
Can you deny that I'm right? You people stick in piety up to the very eyes—your father an' August Keil an' you too! A feller like me can't compete with you there.
ROSE
[With a new outburst of despair.] It's a lie … a lie! You saw nothing!
STRECKMANN
No? Saw nothing? Well, I'll be…! Then I must ha' been dreamin'. That's what it must ha' been! If that wasn't Squire Flamm from Diessdorf! I haven't had a drop o' anythin' to-day. Didn't he play at drivin' you by the braids o' your hair? Didn't he throw you into the grass? [With uncontrollable, hard laughter.] He had a good hold on you!
ROSE
Streckmann, I'll beat your head in with my hoe!
STRECKMANN
[Still laughing.] Listen to that! What now? You're not goin' to cut up so rough! Why shouldn't you ha' done it? I don't blame you. First come, first served: that's the way o' the world.
ROSE
[Weeping and moaning in her helpless grief and yet working convulsively.] A feller like that, presumes to …!
STRECKMANN
[Enraged and brutally.] It's you that presumes! 'Tisn't me that does! Not that I'd mind presumin' a good deal. If Flamm's good enough, it's certain that I am!
ROSE
[Sobbing and crying out in her despair.] I've been a decent girl all my life long! Let anybody come an' say somethin' against me if he can! I took care o' three little brothers an' sisters! Three o'clock in the mornin' I've gotten up, an' not so much as taken a drop o' milk! An' people knows that! Every child knows it!
STRECKMANN
Well, you needn't make such a noise about it! The bells is ringin' and the people is comin' from church. You might be a bit sociable with a feller. You people are just burstin' with pride. Maybe it's true … things look as if it was. I'm not sayin' but what you're a good worker an' a good saver. But otherwise you're no better'n other folks.
ROSE
[Gazing into the distance; in extreme fear.] Isn't that August that's comin' there?
STRECKMANN
[Looks in the same direction toward the village. Contemptuously:] Where? Oh, yes, that's him! There they both are! They're just walkin' around the parson's garden. Well, what about it? You think I ought to be gettin' away? I'm not afeard o' them psalm-singin' donkeys.
ROSE
[In quivering fear.] Streckmann, I've saved up twelve crowns …
STRECKMANN
Rosie, you know you've saved more than that.
ROSE
All right, I'll give you all my bit o' savin's! I don't care for the money … I'll bring it to you, to the last farthing. Streckmann, only have pity …
[She seeks to grasp his hands beseechingly, but he draws them away.
STRECKMANN
I takes no money.
ROSE
Streckmann! For the sake o' all good things in the world …
STRECKMANN
Well now, I can't see why you don't act sensible.
ROSE
If one person in the village finds that out….
STRECKMANN
It depends on you! Nobody needn't know. All you need to do is not to force it on 'em … [With sudden passion.] What's at the bottom of it?—I'm crazy about you …
ROSE
Where's the woman or girl you're not crazy about!
STRECKMANN
Maybe it's so. I can't change things. A man like me who has to go the round o' all the estates in the country with his threshin' machine—he don't have worry because he's not talked about. I know best how it is with me. Before ever Flamm came—I'm not mentionin' August—I'd thrown an eye on you. An' nobody knows what it's cost me. [With iron stubbornness.] But the devil fetch me now! Come what may, Rosie! There's no more use tryin' to joke with me! I happened to come upon somethin' to-day!
ROSE
An' what is it?
STRECKMANN
You'll see soon enough.
MARTHEL, ROSE'S younger sister, comes skipping along the field-path. She is neatly dressed in her Sunday garments and is still pronouncedly child-like.
MARTHEL
[Calls out.] Rose, is that you? What are you doin' here?
ROSE
I've got to finish hoein' the patch. Why didn't you stop to finish it o'
Saturday?
MARTHEL
Oh, dearie me, Rosie, if father sees you!
STRECKMANN
If there's a bit o' profit in it, he won't do nothing very bad. You let old Bernd alone for that!
MARTHEL
Who is that, Rosie?
ROSE
Oh, don't ask me!
Old BERND and AUGUST KEIL are approaching along the field-path from the village. The old, white-haired man, as well as the other who is about thirty-five years old, is dressed in his Sunday coat and each carries a hymn book. Old BERND has a white beard; his voice has a certain softness as though he had had and been cured of a severe pulmonary affection. One might imagine him to be a dignified retired family coachman. AUGUST KEIL, who is a bookbinder, has a pale face, thin, dark moustache and pointed beard. His hair is growing notably thin and he suffers from occasional nervous twitching. He is lean, narrow-chested; his whole appearance betrays the man of sedentary employment.
BERND
Isn't that Rosie?
AUGUST
Yes, father Bernd.
BERND
You can't nowise make the girl stop that. When the fit takes her, she's got to go an' toil—if it's weekday or holiday. [He is quite near her by this time.] Is there not time enough o' weekdays?
AUGUST
You do too much, Rosie! There's no need o' that!
BERND
If our good pastor saw that, it'd hurt him to the very soul. He wouldn't trust his own eyes.
AUGUST
An' he's been askin' for you again.
STRECKMANN
[Suggestively.] They say, too, as he wants her to be his housekeeper.
BERND
[Noticing him for the first time.] Why, that's Streckmann!
STRECKMANN
Yes, here I am, life-size. That girl, she's as busy as an ant or a bee! She'll be workin' if her sides crack. She's got no time to be sleepin' in the church.
BERND
It's little sleepin' we does there, I tell you. You might better say that them as are out here do the sleepin' an' don't want no awakenin'. The Bridegroom is at hand …
STRECKMANN
An' that's certainly true! But the bride, meantime, runs off!
AUGUST
You're in a merry mood this day.
STRECKMANN
Yes, that I am. I could hug a curbstone … or the handle o' your collection bag. I do feel most uncommonly jolly. I could laugh myself sick.
BERND
[To ROSE.] Put up your things an' we'll go home! Not that way! That way I'm not goin' home with you! Put your hoe in the hollow of the tree! Carryin' that o' Sunday would give offence.
AUGUST
There's them that even gads about with guns.
STRECKMANN
An' devils that take no shame carryin' a whisky-bottle.
[He pulls his bottle out of his pocket.
AUGUST
Each man does those things on his own responsibility.
STRECKMANN
True. An' at his own expense! Come, take courage an' have a drink with me for once.
[He holds out the bottle to AUGUST who pays no attention to him.
BERND
You know well enough that August drinks no spirits!—Whereabouts is your threshin' machine now?
STRECKMANN
But you, father Bernd; you can't go an' refuse to take a drop with me! You've been a distiller yourself! My machine is on the great estate down below.
BERND
[Takes the bottle hesitatingly.] Just because it's you, Streckmann, otherwise I wouldn't be touchin' it. When I was manager of the estate, I had to do a good many things! But I never liked to distil the drink an' I didn't touch it in them days at all.
STRECKMANN
[To AUGUST who has placed a spade in the hollow of the cherry tree.] You just look at that tree! Piff, paff! All you got to do is to take your aim and let it fly.
BERND
There's people that goes hunting o' Sundays.
STRECKMANN
Squire Flamm.
BERND
Just so. We ha' met him. 'Tis bad. I'm sorry for them folks.
STRECKMANN throws cock-chafers at ROSE.
ROSE
[Trembling.] Streckmann!
BERND
What's wrong?
AUGUST
What's the meanin' o' that?
STRECKMANN
Nothin'! We've got a little private quarrel!
AUGUST
You can have your little quarrels. But it'd be better if you had 'em without her.
STRECKMANN
[With malicious hostility.] You take care, August! Watch out!
BERND
Peace! Don't be quarrelsome! In God's name!
STRECKMANN
The dam' carrion always spits at me!
AUGUST
Carrion is a dead beast …!
STRECKMANN
August, let's be at peace. Father Bernd is right; people ought to like each other! An' it isn't Christian the way you act sour like! Come on now! Have a drink! You're not good-lookin', your worst enemy'd have to admit that, but you're fine when it comes to readin' an' writin' an' you've got your affairs pretty well arranged! Well, then, here's to your weddin'—an early one an' a merry one!
BERND takes the bottle and drinks since AUGUST remains quite unresponsive.
STRECKMANN
I take that real kind o' you, father Bernd.
BERND
When it comes to drinkin' to a happy weddin', I makes an exception!
STRECKMANN
Exactly! That's proper! That's right!—It isn't as if I was a horse-boy to-day as in the old times on the estate when you had the whip hand o' me. I've gotten to be a reputable kind o' feller. Anybody that's got a head on his shoulders makes his way.
BERND
God bestows his favours on them he wants to.—[To AUGUST.] Drink to a happy weddin'.
AUGUST
[Takes the bottle.] May God grant it! We don't have to drink to it.
STRECKMANN
[Slapping his thigh.] An' may he give plenty o' little Augusts, so that the grandfather can be glad. An' the oldest of 'em all must grow up to be a squire!—But now you ought to let Rosie have a drink too.
BERND
You're weepin', Rosie. What's troublin' you?
MARTHEL
The tears keep runnin' out o' her eyes all the time.
AUGUST
[To ROSE.] Drink a drop, so's to let him have his will.
ROSE takes the bottle, overcoming her repugnance by a violent effort.
STRECKMANN
Right down with it now! Let's be jolly!
ROSE drinks trembling and hands back the bottle to AUGUST with undisguised disgust.
BERND
[Softly in his paternal pride to STRECKMANN.] There's a girl for you! He'd better keep a good hold o' her.