ACT III.

Scene:--The same as in Act I. A lamp is burning on the table. Daylight is coming through the window. Up-stage to the left is a bed, turned down. It has not been slept in. Robert sits at the table his face in his hands.

(Enter Frau Heinecke in night-cap and wearing a woollen under-skirt.)

Frau Heinecke. Good-morning, my son! (He does not answer) Poor thing! he ain't even been to bed! (Goes to him, wiping her eyes) Bobby!

Robert. (Starts up) What is it? What do you want?

Frau Heinecke. Lord, how you yell at me! And your teeth are chattering with cold! Won't you drink some coffee? (He shakes his head decisively) Take a little piece of advice from your old mother, Bobby; even if a person is in trouble, he's got to sleep. Sleep puts marrow in the bones. (Puts out the lamp)

Robert. Mother, Mother, what have you done?

Frau Heinecke. (Crying) We aren't to blame, my boy!

Robert. Not to blame!

Frau Heinecke. I brought her up honorably. There has never been a bad example in this house. I kept her at her schooling and I had her confirmed, though that ain't even necessary any more. She went up to the altar in a new black pleated dress. I bought it myself at a bargain, and I put my own wedding handkerchief into her hand, and the preacher spoke so movin', so movin'.

Robert. But how could you allow her to have anything to do with that--fellow!

Frau Heinecke. Perhaps it wasn't really so bad----

Robert. What further proof do you want? Didn't he admit everything to me with the most brutal frankness? Or did Alma try to lie about it? And to cap the climax, last evening I was in Michalski's house. Everything was beautifully arranged. Your dear daughter Auguste had prepared a secret nest, with curtains and carpets and red hanging lamps. She kept watch at the door herself and was--paid, paid for it! The cur was in my hands yesterday. If I had only finished him then!

Frau Heinecke. Why, Robert----

Robert. Be still! He promised satisfaction. I accomplished that much at least. He saw I was ready for anything. He said he would find means of giving me satisfaction by to-day. I thought of the poor little girl's future and let him go.

Frau Heinecke. Well, I never suspected anything wrong.

Robert. You must have seen it coming. What did you think when he brought her home so late at night?

Frau Heinecke. When a person is asleep, he's glad enough he don't have to think. Besides, she had a latchkey.

Robert. But you couldn't neglect the fact that if he brought her home he must have met her somewhere in the city.

Frau Heinecke. Well, yes. I thought she was going with him.

Robert. I don't know what you mean.

Frau Heinecke. She was going with him.

Robert. So you said, but I----

Frau Heinecke. Just like any young girl goes with a young gentleman.

Robert. Goes? Where?

Frau Heinecke. To concerts, to restaurants--If he's got money, to the theater, and in summer to Grunewald[7] or Treptow.[8]

Robert. Alone?

Frau Heinecke. Alone? (Clacks her tongue) No! With the young man!

Robert. I meant: without her parents?

Frau Heinecke. Certainly. Or do you expect the old mother is going to toddle after the young ones on her weak legs.

Robert. Mm! So you knew she "went" with him?

Frau Heinecke. No, I just thought so.

Robert. And when you asked her?

Frau Heinecke. Why should I ask? That would only be wasting breath. A girl ought to know herself what's good for her.

Robert. Oh!

Frau Heinecke. But that she--oh, who'd have thought it! Lord, how you tremble. I must get this room warm for you. (Goes to stove)

Robert. (To himself) No way out! No way to save things! Shame!--a life of shame!

Frau Heinecke. (Into the kitchen) Father, bring in some coke! (Kneels and shakes down the fire)

Robert. (To himself) What sort of satisfaction can he have meant? Marriage? (He laughs) And if it came to that, I'm not sure whether I should want marriage for her. At least there is the chance of a duel. If he shoots me down, then I'm saved. But--what will become of these? (Gesture)

(Enter Heinecke in a torn dressing-gown, and large felt slippers, he carries a basket of coke.)

Heinecke. (Gruffly) Good-morning.

Robert. Good-morning, Father.

Heinecke. (Muttering) Yes, yes----

Frau Heinecke. Quit grumbling, Father. Help me make a fire.

Heinecke. Yes--Yes, we'll make a fire, (They both kneel before the stove)

Robert. (To himself) And if I kill him? I'll admit that would be a relief! But the question remains: what will become of them? (Looking toward his parents) I'm afraid that I can't afford the luxury of a sense of honor. (Crying out) Oh, how vile I am!

Heinecke. Something wrong, my boy?

Frau Heinecke. It's because of Alma. He hasn't even been to bed.

Heinecke. Yes, Alma! That's what a man grows gray in honor for. But I always said it: the Avenue'll bring us trouble some day.

Frau Heinecke. (To Heinecke) Father, don't cry! (They embrace)

Robert. (To himself) But someone's heart must break!

Heinecke. Oh, I'm not crying! I'm master of this house! I know what I've got to do! Poor cripple has his honor, too. Think I'll stand for it! My daughter! She'll see! (Swinging the poker) I'll give her my curse! My paternal curse!

Frau Heinecke. (Arranging the bed) Now, now, now----

Heinecke. Yes, you! You don't understand anything about honor. (Strikes his breast) There lies honor! Out into the streets she'll go! Out into the night and the storm!

Robert. Do you want her to be absolutely ruined?

Frau Heinecke. Let him talk, he don't mean anything.

Robert. Won't you see where she is? I suppose she's ashamed to show herself.

Frau Heinecke. She wanted to sleep.

Robert. Oh!

Frau Heinecke. (She goes to the bed-room door) Alma! (No answer)

Robert. Oh, she never should have been left alone.

Frau Heinecke. (Opens the door) Just as I said, she's asleep.

Robert. She can sleep!

Frau Heinecke. Will you get up, you worthless girl?

Heinecke. Come, get up, or there'll be trouble.

Robert. Father, Mother, quick, before she comes! Don't be too hard with her. It will only make her more stubborn.

Frau Heinecke. You are a good deal more clever than your old mother, but just the same I know how to take care of my children. I'll keep her like in a reform-school if it breaks my heart:--cleaning boots, peeling potatoes, cleaning floors, scrubbing steps, she's got to do it all.

Robert. And suppose she runs away some night?

Heinecke. Pah, she'll be locked up. I'll have the key in my pocket. How'll she run away then?

Robert. But think, she is only a child! And the rest are more to blame than she. Her own sister--Ah, if you want to be severe you ought to be severe with that damned procuress!--I hope I can demand once for all that Alma be taken absolutely away from under the influence of her sister and that you'll show Auguste and her husband the door!

Heinecke. Certainly, we'll make a clean sweep of that outfit. I've had enough of Michalski. Now you see. Mother, Robert has to come all the way from India to say it! You haven't any respect for me, poor old man!

Robert. I beg your pardon. Father--this doesn't concern you.

Heinecke. Just the same----

Frau Heinecke. (Her apron over her face) But she is my child, too! And I love all my children the same!

Robert. Even if they aren't worthy of your love?

Frau Heinecke. Then all the more.

Robert. Shh!

(Alma appears in the bed-room door dressed in a nightgown and a while underskirt, her hair is down and she looks fearfully from one to the other.)

Heinecke. Hoho!

Frau Heinecke. (Wringing her hands) Child! child, is this our reward? Haven't I done everything in the world for you? Haven't I kept you like a princess? But now it's over. What are you standing there for? Get a broom! Sweep the room!

(Alma slips past her with her elbows up, as if fearing a blow, into the kitchen.)

Heinecke. (Walking excitedly up and down) I'm your poor old father and I tell you I brought you into the world!--Yes, an honest old man! That I am!

(Alma appears in the kitchen door with broom and dustpan.)

Robert. (To himself) How sweet she looks in her penitence! and she----

Frau Heinecke. Well, are you going to begin?

Heinecke. (Ceremoniously) Alma, my daughter, come here--close!

Alma. Please, please, don't strike me.

Heinecke. That is the least I'll do! I'm an honest old man! Yes, here lies honor! Do you know what I'm going to do with you now? I'm going to curse you! What do you say to that?

Alma. Go away--let me alone.

Heinecke. You defy me, do you?--you don't know me yet! you!

Frau Heinecke. Father, be still! she's got to work.

Heinecke. What! I can't be allowed to curse my own disobedient child.

Frau Heinecke. Oh, that only happens in books!

Heinecke. Hey?

Robert. My dear parents! You mustn't go on like this! Please leave me alone with her a moment. Meanwhile, dress. I daresay there will be visitors.

Heinecke. And I'm not allowed to curse my--Hmm, wait!

(Frau Heinecke pulls him out of the room.)

Robert. (To himself) Now I'll see what she really thinks, and what I have to do! (Softly) Come here, sister.

Alma. Mother said I had to clean the room.

Robert. That can wait! (Takes her hand) You don't need to be afraid I won't strike you! And I won't curse you, either. You may be sure you have one good friend who is willing to keep watch over you--a true and considerate friend.

Alma. You are too good--Much too good! (She sinks down before him weeping)

Robert. There, there--get up! Sit on the footstool!--There--(She sits on the stool) and straighten up, so I can see your eyes. (Tries to lift her head, but she hides it in her lap) You won't! Well, cry then! I won't send you away from here--and you will cry for many a day and many a night when you really understand what you have done! Tell me, you realize, don't you, that all the rest of your life must be repentance?

Alma. Yes, I know.

Robert. (Takes her head in his hands) Yes, yes, sister, and this is what a man works ten years in a foreign country to build up a fortune for--Ten long years! and twenty will hardly be enough to make us forget this disgrace----

Alma. In twenty years I'll be old.

Robert. Old?--What difference does that make? For us two there is no more youth.

Alma. Oh, God!

Robert. (Springing up in excitement) Don't be afraid, we'll stay together! We'll find some hiding place; like hunted animals! Yes, that's what we are! We've been hunted and mangled! (Alma sinks down, her face in the empty chair) Only we two can heal each other's wounds! You mine, and I yours. (To himself) Oh, how she lies there! God in Heaven, there is only one thing to do!--the pure little child-soul he has trampled into the dirt, he can never give back--other satisfaction I don't need!--Alma!

Alma. (Sitting up) What?

Robert. You really love him?

Alma. Whom?

Robert. Whom? Him!

Alma. Oh, yes.

Robert. And if you lost him entirely, would you feel that you could not bear it at all?

Alma. Oh no!

Robert. Good!--You are a brave little girl!--One can learn to forget!--One can learn--(He sits down) Above all, you must work! The singing nonsense is over, of course! You have learned dressmaking, you can begin that again! But you mustn't go back into a shop. There are too many temptations and bad examples there!

Alma. Yes, yes, the girls are bad.

Robert. Let him among you who is without sin--you know! And least of all, you! Where we shall go I can't say as yet. I couldn't think of uprooting our old parents; otherwise I should take them along. It doesn't matter where--only a long, long way, where you will belong only to me and your work--For you can take my word for it all--tired is half-happy!--Mother and Father would live with us, and you shall help me to take care of them. Besides your dressmaking, you'll have to wash and cook. Will you do that and be patient with Father and Mother?

Alma. If you want me to.

Robert. No, you must want to with a good will, otherwise it is useless. I ask you again, will you?

Alma. Yes, from to-morrow on, I'll do everything.

Robert. That's right--but why from to-morrow and not from to-day?

Alma. Because to-day I was----

Robert. Well, well?

Alma. Oh, please----

Robert. (Kindly) Out with it!

Alma. I wanted--to--go--so bad--to the masked ball! (There is a long pause, Robert gets up and paces the room) May I?

Alma. May I?

Robert. Call father and mother.

Alma. Why not? (Whining) Just once! Can't a person have just one good time, if it's to be the last of everything.

Robert. Do you know what you're saying?--You----

Alma. (Arrogantly) Yes, I do know what I'm saying! I'm not such a little fool! I know a few things about life myself--What are you so excited about, anyway? Isn't it a pretty hard lot when a person has to sit here for nothing? The sun never shines in an old hole like this, nor the moon either, and all you hear on every side is jabbering and scolding!--and nobody with any decent manners. Father scolds, and mother scolds--and you sew your fingers bloody!--and you get fifty pfennigs a day and that don't even pay for the kerosene!--and when you are young and pretty--and you want to have a good time and go in decent society a little--I was always in favor of something higher--I always liked to read about it in the stories. And as for getting married? Who should I marry, then? Such plebeians as those that work down there in the factory don't interest me! No siree! All they can do is drink up their pay and come home and beat you!--I want a gentleman and if I can't have one I don't want anybody! And Kurt has always treated me decently--I never learned any dirty words from him, I'll tell you--I've picked them up right here at home! And I'm not going to stay here, either! And I don't need you to take care of me, either! Girls like me don't starve to death!

Robert. (Starts to speak then stops) Call Father and mother!

Alma. And now I'm going to ask father if I--(As he threatens her) Yes, yes, I'm going! (She goes out)

Robert. So that is the way it stands?--That's my sister! Ah, what a weak fool I was!--Began to sugar this indecency with poetry and sorrow!--That wasn't seduction--it was in the blood!--Well, I must act, now! Rough if need be, otherwise everything is lost.

(Enter Frau Heinecke, pushing Alma before her, Heinecke follows, his mouth full.)

Heinecke. This impudence!

Frau Heinecke. Masked balls cost money. Now, you'll stay at home.

Heinecke. Do you deserve my curse or not? I curse you again, you toad!

Robert. Alma, go into the other room! I have something to say to father and mother.

Frau Heinecke. And don't slop around so! Dress yourself! The gray dress with the patches!

Alma. That old thing!

Heinecke. Get out!

Frau Heinecke. And you won't drink any coffee, either! Now, now, don't cry! (Aside) It's on the back of the stove.

(Alma goes out.)

Robert. Father, Mother,--don't be angry with me--I--you--there must be a great change in your life.

Heinecke. What's the matter?

Robert. I am certain that Alma will be absolutely ruined if she is not brought into surroundings that make it impossible for her to return to her previous life.--But what will become of you? You can't stay here, if you did, you would soon be a prey to the Michalskis. So the long and short of it is--you must come with me.

Frau Heinecke. (Frightened) To India?

Robert. It makes no difference where. Perhaps even as far as India. Trast's influence reaches a long way. We are in a position to choose.

Heinecke. (Defiantly) Oh yes, choose India!

Frau Heinecke. I don't know which end I'm on!

Robert. It will be hard for you! I realize that. But don't worry; it's not as bad as it seems. You can live a thousand times more comfortably in the tropics than here. You can have as many servants as you like!

Heinecke. Thousands!

Robert. And your own house!

Heinecke. And palms?

Robert. More than you can use.

Heinecke. And you can pick the fruit right off the trees.

Robert. It picks itself.

Heinecke. And it costs nothing.

Robert. Almost nothing.

Heinecke. And the parrots fly around--and the apes? Like out at the zoo?

Robert. So you will come?

Frau Heinecke. What do you think. Father?

Heinecke. Well--'s far's I'm concerned, we'll come.

Robert. Thank you, thank you! (Aside) Thank God, I didn't have to force them! And now we mustn't lost a moment. Where is paper and pen?

(Heinecke meditatively scratches his head.)

Frau Heinecke. Alma has some. (She goes into bedroom)

Heinecke. Of course, she's always writing letters. (He shuts the stove door)

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! (Buttons 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.

Frau Heinecke, (Opening the door) Robert! (Tenderly) Oh, the dear boy, he's fallen asleep in his chair! He didn't sleep a wink all night--Bobby! The Herr Councillor--He's sound asleep!

Muhlingk. (Kindly) Ah? so much the better! Don't wake him.

Heinecke. Shut the door!

Frau Heinecke. But didn't he say----

Heinecke.--If the young Herr Muhlingk came, he said--(He shuts the door quietly)

Auguste. (To Michalski , with gesture of counting money) Watch!

Muhlingk. (Who has been looking around the room) You seem to be living in a very comfortable place, my good people.

Heinecke. (Deferentially) Would the Herr Councillor be so kind as to sit down?

Muhlingk. Ha! ha! real silk.

Frau Heinecke. Yes, it is silk.

Muhlingk. A present, perhaps?

Frau Heinecke. (Hesitatingly) Well, yes, you might say----

Muhlingk. (Innocently) From my son?

Heinecke. Yes, sir.}(Together)
Frau Heinecke. Sh!

Muhlingk. (Aside) Rascal! (Aloud) By the way, your good son has not acted in a very dutiful manner toward mine. Frankly, I expected a little more gratitude. You can tell him that he is discharged and that I shall give him until four this afternoon to settle his accounts.

Frau Heinecke. Oh, that will make him feel bad.

Heinecke. He loved the Herr Councillor like his own father!

Muhlingk. Really! I'm glad to hear it! But that is not what brought me here, good people; you have a daughter.

Auguste. (Advancing) At your service!

Muhlingk, What can I do for you?

Auguste. (Deferentially) I am the daughter.

Muhlingk. Ah! very good, very good. But I was not referring to you. The girl's name is Alma.

Frau Heinecke. That's it. And a mighty pretty girl, if I do say it myself.

Muhlingk. Ah! it is always pleasing to see children who make their parents happy. But there is one thing that I don't like--your daughter has taken advantage of the fact that I have allowed you to occupy my house, and has established illicit relations with my son. Frankly, I expected a little more gratitude.

Frau Heinecke. Oh, Herr Councillor!

Muhlingk. In order to sever all connection whatsoever between your house and mine, I offer you a cash compensation--which you, my dear Heinecke, and your daughter Alma, may divide, with the understanding that half will go to her as a dowry, as soon as she finds someone who--(Laughs discreetly) Well, you understand! Until then, the entire sum will be at your disposal. Do you agree?

Auguste. (Behind Heinecke) Say yes!

Heinecke. I--I----

Muhlingk. I have offered an unusually large amount in order to free myself of a promise extracted yesterday by your son from my son.--It amounts to--a--fifty thousand marks.

Heinecke. (With an exclamation) God! Herr Councillor, are you in earnest?

Frau Heinecke. I'm getting dizzy! (Sinks into a chair)

Muhlingk. (Aside) I made it too high!--I put the question again, will you be satisfied with forty thousand marks?

Auguste. (Nudging her father) Say yes, quick--or he'll come down again.

Heinecke. I can't believe it, Herr Councillor! Even the forty--There isn't that much money--It's nonsense--show me the money.

Muhlingk. It is at the office, waiting for you.

Heinecke. And the cashier won't say: Put the fellow out--he's drunk!--Oh, he can be right sharp with the poor people when he wants to--that cashier! (Muhlingk draws out a check and fills it; hands it to Heinecke: they all study the writing) Forty thousand marks! Always the generous gentleman, Herr Councillor. Give me your hand!

Muhlingk. (Putting his hand in his pocket) One thing more: to-morrow evening a moving van will be in front of your door; within two hours you will be good enough to leave my property,--and I hope that will be the last I hear of you.

Heinecke. Don't say that, Herr Councillor! If the visit of an honest old man isn't disagreeable to you, I'll take the liberty of calling now and then. Yes, I'm an honest old man!

Muhlingk. Certainly! Good-day, my good people! (Aside) Pah! (He goes out)

Heinecke. Mother! Forty thousand! (Michalski tries to embrace him) Three paces to the rear, my son! (Takes out an old handkerchief and carefully does up the check in it, then puts it in breast pocket) Now you can be as tender as you like.

Frau Heinecke. I'm half sick with joy! (The two embrace and weep) When I think! I don't need to go to market without money any more. And when I'm cold in the afternoons, I can make a fire without having a bad conscience--a good fire--and in the evening cold meat!

Heinecke. And in the evening I can take the horse-car whenever I want!

Michalski. Exactly four hundred thousand times, at ten pfennigs per!

Frau Heinecke. And you'll buy me a sofa.

Auguste. Now you won't be going to India.

Frau Heinecke. For the Lord's sake.

Heinecke. Are you crazy?

Auguste. And what will Herr Robert have to say to that?

Frau Heinecke. (Happily) Yes--Robert! (Goes to bedroom door)

Auguste. (Holding her back) I advise you to let him sleep. He'll hear about it soon enough.

Frau Heinecke. (Startled) What d'you mean by that?

Heinecke. (Pulling at Frau Heinecke's dress and pointing to kitchen door) He! he! Her! In there!

Frau Heinecke. Oh, the poor, dear child!

Heinecke. (Mysteriously) Well give her a little surprise!--Shh! (All tiptoe to the kitchen door--Heinecke, who is leading the way, opens the door suddenly, then with a cry, starts back) Wha--wh--Mother! What's that?

Frau Heinecke. (Clasping her hands above her head) Good Lord!

Michalski. (Looking over their shoulders) The devil!

Heinecke. (With pretended severity) You come here!

Alma. (Outside) Oh, please--no!

Heinecke. Are you coming?

(Enter Alma dressed in the robe of the Indian Princess, her hands covering her face for shame. All laugh and exclaim in surprise at the costume. Auguste feels the material.)

Auguste. The Indian dress.

Michalski. From the stark-naked princess!

Alma. I--just--wanted--to try it on! I'll take it right off!

Frau Heinecke. Ach! what a little angel!

Alma. Aren't you angry with me any more?

Heinecke. Angry! (Then recalling his severity) That is--yes--very. But for once we'll allow mercy to take the place of justice. (Turning around) That was pretty good, eh?

Frau Heinecke. (Strokes Alma's hair and leads her toward the left) Come, sit down. No, here on the arm-chair!

Alma. What is it--what's happened?

Heinecke. Ha! ha!

(All take their places about him.)

Alma. And I can go to the masked ball?

Heinecke. Ha--ha! Yes, you can go to the masked ball.

Auguste. (Ironically) The poor child!

Heinecke. (Jumping up) I must go this minute to the bank!

Michalski. (Opening bottle of liqueur) Wait! We'll wet up our luck so it'll stick! Alma, some glasses.

Frau Heinecke. (Getting up) Let the poor child sit still! I'll 'tend to that myself! (She goes to the washstand and brings a set of liqueur glasses. To Auguste) What did you mean before about Robert?

Auguste. You'll see quick enough.

Frau Heinecke. He won't grudge us old folks a little good luck, will he?

Michalski. (Sings) "So leben wir, so leben wir!"

(The moving of a chair is heard in bedroom.)

Michalski. Ladies and Gentlemen, I drink to Fraulein Alma Heinecke, our lucky-child, and above all, the House that has always shown itself, generous----

Heinecke. The house of Muhlingk! Long live the House of Muhlingk! Hurrah!

(Robert appears at the bedroom door.)

All. Hurrah! Hurrah!

Frau Heinecke. (Startled) There he is!

(Embarrassed silence.)

Michalski. Morning, brother-in-law.

Robert. Will you kindly explain, Mother, how these two happen to be sitting at the table of respectable people?

Michalski. Oh!

Heinecke. Don't be so inhospitable!

Frau Heinecke. (Going toward him) Bobby, you mustn't be proud, specially to your own flesh and blood.

Robert. Hm--Alma, what is that? Who gave you permission----?

Heinecke. And you may as well know now as any time, there's no use having any hopes about India. I prefer to spend my money in Germany.

Robert. (Confused) What has happened?

Frau Heinecke. You tell him, Father, you're the one that got the check!

Robert. What check?

Heinecke. (Assuming a pose) My son!--one doesn't often seem what one really is--Such things are deeper--For that reason one must always be respectful--you can never tell what is hidden under tattered clothes. Anyone can wear a fur-lined coat.

Robert. Will you please explain what--- Heinecke. Explain?--What is there to explain--Don't look at me like that! What are you looking at me that way for. Mother, I won't stand it!

Frau Heinecke. Go on! Go on!

Heinecke. Well, as I said, it's simple enough. The Herr Councillor was here.

Robert. He? Why didn't you call me.

Heinecke. Ah--In the first place because it was not the young Muhlingk--When your friend comes, then you can receive him. The old gentleman is my friend--We've promised to call on each other. And second: because I don't have to ask my son what is right for me to do--Now you know--See?

Frau Heinecke. Oh, Father!

Heinecke. Don't interrupt me when I'm giving my son a little admonition. From now on I'm not going to be fooled with.

Michalski. (Behind him) That's the way to talk.

Robert. Was the discussion about Alma?

Heinecke. In the first place the discussion was about you. You have been discharged from his service, because of insubordination. Frankly, I expected more gratitude.

Robert. You?

Heinecke. (Sternly) Yes, me! Your honest old father!--It isn't pleasant for me to have my son wander around as a clerk out of a job. Now you've got till four to settle your accounts or it will go hard with you.

Robert. (About to break out--controls himself) Let's talk about Alma! Did he offer satisfaction?

Heinecke. Certainly, absolute.

Robert. (Hesitating, as if saying something foolish) Ah--marriage?

Heinecke. What marriage?

Robert. With his son----

Heinecke. You must be crazy.

Robert. (Anxiously) Well, what else?

Heinecke. (Slyly in his ear) Forty thousand marks! (Aloud) Fine, eh?

Robert. (With a cry) Money!

Frau Heinecke. (Frightened) Lord! I thought so!

Heinecke. Yes, sir! Here it is, good as gold!

Robert. What! you took it?

Heinecke. (Wonderingly) Well?

Robert. He offered you money and you took it! (Against his will he springs toward his father)

Michalski. (Stepping between them) I advise you to leave the old man alone!

Robert. (Reeling back without noticing him) Mother, you took it!

Frau Heinecke. (Folding her hands) We're poor folks, my boy! (Robert sinks down with a strange laugh on the work-stool. Michalski and Auguste gather about Heinecke and Frau Heinecke; Alma sits smiling, with folded hands) God have mercy on us! There's something wrong with him! (Puts her hand on his shoulder) My Boy, take a little advice from your poor old mother. Don't step on your good fortune's toes, for pride dies on the straw.

Robert. Straw wouldn't be the worst. Mother--I shall die on the grave's edge, or in the gutter like a street cur! Only do give the money back--(Desperately) See, I am talking perfectly calmly, perfectly sensibly, I'll show you as plain as day what you must do. That fellow has brought us into disgrace--But we are innocent--We needn't be ashamed before anyone. A man can steal honor just the same as he can steal a purse. No one can prevent that!--But if we let someone buy our honor with cold money, then we have no honor at all--and it serves us right--(Heinecke turns to Michalski, touching his forehead) Heaven knows I understand it all! I'm not critcizing--Really I'm not.--You are poor and you've always been poor. Such a miserable existence! Nothing but worry for daily bread destroys all judgment and all dignity. And now you let yourselves be blinded by a little money!--but believe me, it will never give you pleasure. Nothing will be left but disgust! (Choking) Ah, the disgust! It chokes----

Frau Heinecke. That kind of talk is enough to turn you cold----

Heinecke. So that is my son!

Robert. And don't imagine that you will lose by taking my advice. Look at me! I have learned a few things, haven't I? I'm healthy, I can be trusted, can't I--The few remaining years you can trust to me, can't you?--Can't you see. I want nothing better than to work for you--I'll make you rich! Rich! you can do what you like with me! I'll be your slave! Your pack-horse--Only give back that money!

Heinecke. That's all very well! But a bird in the hand--Let me tell you!

Michalski. You're right there, Father!

Heinecke. I certainly am right!--You run along and chase your sparrows, my boy. I'll keep the bird I've got.

Michalski. Bravo!

Robert. And you, Mother?--(She turns away) You too?--God, what have I left?--Alma, what about you? I offer you everything. Only help me! (He takes her hand. She struggles a little. He draws her toward the center) You've given yourself away. Well, perhaps that's your right. But you won't sell yourself--you can't sell your love in the public market. Alma, tell them that!

Alma. (Angrily) Let me go!

Auguste. He's breaking the kid's arm.

Alma. You've got nothing to say to me any more. (She breaks away)

Robert. Little sister!

Alma. And I'm going to the masked ball, too! Ask mother if I ain't.

Robert. Mother!

Frau Heinecke. Why shouldn't the poor child have a little fun once in a while?

Robert. (Overcome) So we've gone that far?

Michalski. (Sitting in chair, mockingly) Yes, we've gone that far!

Robert. You--Procuror! Get out of that chair! (Michalski remains seated, Robert takes hold of the back of the chair) Get up, I say, and get out of here, both of you!

Michalski. (Threateningly) Now that's a little too fresh!

Robert. (Who has seized the chair) Dare to lay a hand on me!

Frau Heinecke. (Throwing herself between them) You'll break my arm-chair.

Robert. I suppose that comes from our friends on the Avenue whom you hold in such high esteem!

Frau Heinecke. Of course it does!

Robert. From our dear Herr Kurt, I suppose?

Frau Heinecke. Well, yes!

Robert. (With a wild laugh) There it is, then! (He throws the chair to the floor, breaking it and kicking the pieces away from him)

Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) My beautiful arm-chair! (She picks up the pieces carrying them to the left--then she sinks down on stool)

Heinecke. This is getting uncomfortable! (He starts to go out, right)

Robert. (Standing in his way) Will you give that blood-money back? Yes or no?

Heinecke. Give it back? (Contemptuously) Huh!

Robert. Then I'm through with you! and you, too, Mother. Is a man brought into the world for that! To wear dishonor like a birthmark? Very good! If I had to be born, why didn't you leave me in the dirt when I first saw the day? Where I've got to wallow for the rest of my life because my worthy family desires it!

Auguste. Do you hear that, Mother, and he was always your favorite.

Robert. No, no, Mother, don't listen to me! (Kneeling beside her) I said nothing! If I said anything, it was only madness. To-day I feel as though I were cut loose from everything that is human--or natural! Mother, have pity on me! You can save me! Come with me!

Frau Heinecke. (Sobbing) How do I know you won't break the mirror, too! in your blind fits.

Robert. (Looks wildly at mirror, then rises) We speak different languages--We can't understand each other.

Michalski. (Who has been quietly talking to Heinecke. He slaps Robert on the shoulder) Now you've raised enough hell! Get out of here!

Robert. (Pushing him out of the way) Back! (As his parents and sisters surround him with angry cries. Breaks out in hollow laughter) Ah, so that's it! You throw me out?

Michalski. (Opens door) Get out!

(Count Trast appears on threshold.)

Trast. (Slapping Michalski on shoulder) Thank you humbly for the friendly welcome!

Robert. (Recognizing Trast, cries out, then extends his arms as if to urge him away) What do you want here?--In this dive?--Do you know who we are?--We sell ourselves!--(He laughs) Look at me! No, I can't bear it! (He covers his face with hands)

(At the sight of Trast, Alma shamefacedly slinks away. Michalski and Auguste follow her into kitchen.)

Trast. Pull yourself together! What has happened?

Heinecke. (Hat in hand) He acted very undutifully, Count! First he wanted to take us off to India, now he wants to take our money away. I'm just going to the bank--Whole forty thousand marks, Count, I have the honor--(Bowing) Count! (He goes out)

Trast. Yes, I understand. (Lays his hand on Robert's shoulder) Was Herr Muhlingk here?

Robert. My friend! Thank you--I had forgotten!

Trast. What is it?

Robert. He wants my accounts. He shall have them. (Hurries to trunk which he opens and feverishly looks for something)

Frau Heinecke. (Weeping) You can thank the Lord, Count, you're not married! There are right ungrateful sons in this world!

Trast. (To himself) You talk like a mother--(Realising what he has said) Pah! Trast, that wasn't nice!

Frau Heinecke. Ain't I right?

Trast. (Takes her hands in his) A mother is always right. She has suffered and loved too much to be anything else. (Shakes her hand)

Frau Heinecke. But, Count! You shake hands with a poor old woman!

Trast. I have sinned against the mothers, and I must beg forgiveness. And my own not the least. There are worse sons, than yours, my dear woman.

(Robert takes out a leather portfolio, looks through it, and lays it aside. Then he takes out a revolver which he tests.)

Trast. (Aside) Ah, a revolver! This is how he's going to settle accounts!

(Robert, seeing he is observed, quickly hides the revolver in his breast pocket. He takes his hat and portfolio and comes forward.)

Robert. Now I'm ready!

Trast. I'll go with you.

Robert. You?

Trast. Have I the right?

Robert. (Hesitatingly) Good, come!

Frau Heinecke. (Tenderly, in tears) Robert!

Robert. (Tries to conceal his excitement) I--shall come--again--to say--good-bye! Now I have something important to do. (He goes towards the door)

Frau Heinecke. (At the door, wringing her hands) Herr Kurt and him! Oh, there'll be trouble!

Trast. (Aside) Shh! ssh!--Well, are we off?

Robert. (To his mother, in great excitement, tenderly) And if we--don't see each other--(Controlling himself) Good! We'll go!

(Both go out as

THE CURTAIN FALLS.)