SCENE V.
Minna, Franziska
MIN.
So that is your Sergeant, Franziska?
FRAN. (aside).
I have not time to reproach her for that jeering your.
(Aloud.)
Yes, my lady, that is my Sergeant. You think him, no doubt, somewhat
stiff and wooden. He also appeared so to me just now; but I observed,
he thought he must march past you as if on parade. And when soldiers
are on parade, they certainly look more like wooden dolls than men.
You should see and hear him when he is himself.
MIN.
So I should, indeed!
FRAN.
He must still be in the next room; may I go and talk with him a
little?
MIN.
I refuse you this pleasure unwillingly: but you must remain here,
Franziska. You must be present at our conversation. Another thing
occurs to me.
(Takes her ring from her finger.)
There, take my ring; keep it for me, and give me the Major's in the
place of it.
FRAN.
Why so?
MIN. (whilst Franziska is fetching the ring).
I scarcely know, myself; but I fancy I see, beforehand, how I may make
use of it. Some one is knocking. Give it to me, quickly.
(Puts the ring on.)
It is he.
SCENE VI.
Major von Tellheim (in the same coat, but otherwise as Franziska
advised), Minna, Franziska
MAJ. T.
Madam, you will excuse the delay.
MIN.
Oh! Major, we will not treat each other in quite such a military
fashion. You are here now; and to await a pleasure, is itself a
pleasure. Well
(looking at him and smiling)
dear Tellheim, have we not been like children?
MAJ. T.
Yes, Madam; like children, who resist when they ought to obey quietly.
MIN.
We will drive out, dear Major, to see a little of the town, and
afterwards to meet my uncle.
MAJ. T.
What!
MIN.
You see, we have not yet had an opportunity of mentioning the most
important matters even. He is coming here to-day. It was accident that
brought me here without him, a day sooner.
MAJ. T.
Count von Bruchsal! Has he returned?
MIN.
The troubles of the war drove him into Italy: peace has brought him
back again. Do not be uneasy, Tellheim; if we formerly feared on his
part the greatest obstacle to our union!!!!!
MAJ. T.
To our union!
MIN.
He is now your friend. He has heard too much good of you from too many
people, not to become so. He longs to become personally acquainted
with the man whom his heiress has chosen. He comes as uncle, as
guardian, as father, to give me to you.
MAJ. T.
Ah! dear lady, why did you not read my letter? Why would you not read
it?
MIN.
Your letter! Oh! yes, I remember you sent me one. What did you do with
that letter, Franziska? Did we, or did we not read it? What was it you
wrote to me, dear Tellheim?
MAJ. T.
Nothing but what honour commands me.
MIN.
That is, not to desert an honourable woman who loves you. Certainly
that is what honour commands. Indeed, I ought to have read your
letter. But what I have not read, I shall hear, shall not I?
MAJ. T.
Yes, you shall hear it.
MIN.
No, I need not even hear it. It speaks for itself. As if you could be
guilty of such an unworthy act, as not to take me! Do you know that I
should be pointed at for the rest of my life? My countrywomen would
talk about me, and say. "That is she, that is the Fraulein von
Barnhelm, who fancied that because she was rich could marry the noble
Tellheim; as if such men were to be caught with money." That is what
they would say, for they are all envious of me. That I am rich, they
cannot deny; but they do not wish to acknowledge that I am also a
tolerably good girl, who would prove herself worthy of her husband. Is
that not so, Tellheim?
MAJ. T.
Yes, yes, Madam, that is like your countrywomen. They will envy you
exceedingly a discharged officer, with sullied honour, a cripple, and
a beggar.
MIN.
And are you all that? If I mistake not, you told me something of the
kind this forenoon. Therein is good and evil mixed. Let us examine
each charge more closely. You are discharged? So you say. I thought
your regiment was only drafted into another. How did it happen that a
man of your merit was not retained?
MAJ. T.
It has happened, as it must happen. The great ones are convinced that
a soldier does very little through regard for them, not much more from
a sense of duty, but everything for his own advantage. What then can
they think they owe him? Peace has made a great many, like myself
superfluous to them; and at last we shall all be superfluous.
MIN.
You talk as a man must talk, to whom in return the great are quite
superfluous. And never were they more so than now. I return my best
thanks to the great ones that they have given up their claims to a man
whom I would very unwillingly have shared with them. I am your
sovereign, Tellheim; you want no other master. To find you discharged,
is a piece of good fortune I dared scarcely dream of! But you are not
only discharged; you are more. And what are you more? A cripple, you
say! Well!
(looking at him from head to foot),
the cripple is tolerably whole and upright—appears still to be pretty
well, and strong. Dear Tellheim, if you expect to go begging on the
strength of your limbs, I prophesy that you will be relieved at very
few doors; except at the door of a good-natured girl like myself.
MAJ. T.
I only hear the joking girl now, dear Minna.
MIN.
And I only hear the "dear Minna" in your chiding. I will not joke any
longer; for I recollect that after all you are something of a cripple.
You are wounded by a shot in the right arm; but all things considered,
I do not find much fault with that. I am so much the more secure from
your blows.
MAJ. T.
Madam!
MIN.
You would say, "You are so much the less secure from mine." Well,
well, dear Tellheim, I hope you will not drive me to that.
MAJ. T.
You laugh, Madam. I only lament that I cannot laugh with you.
MIN.
Why not? What have you to say against laughing? Cannot one be very
serious even whilst laughing? Dear Major, laughter keeps us more
rational than vexation. The proof is before us. Your laughing friend
judges of your circumstances more correctly than you do yourself.
Because you are discharged, you say your honour is sullied; because
you are wounded in the arm, you call yourself a cripple. Is that
right? Is that no exaggeration? And is it my doing that all
exaggerations are so open to ridicule? I dare say, if I examine your
beggary that it will also be as little able to stand the test. You may
have lost your equipage once, twice, or thrice; your deposits in the
hands of this or that banker may have disappeared together with those
of other people; you may have no hope of seeing this or that money
again which you may have advanced in the service; but are you a beggar
on that account? If nothing else remained to you but what my uncle is
bringing for you!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Your uncle, Madam, will bring nothing for me.
MIN.
Nothing but the two thousand pistoles which you so generously advanced
to our government.
MAJ. T.
If you had but read my letter, Madam!
MIN.
Well, I did read it. But what I read in it, on this point, is a
perfect riddle. It is impossible that any one should wish to turn a
noble action into a crime. But explain to me, dear Major.
MAJ. T.
You remember, Madam, that I had orders to collect the contribution for
the war most strictly in cash in all the districts in your
neighbourhood. I wished to forego this severity, and advanced the
money that was deficient myself.
MIN.
I remember it well. I loved you for that deed before I had seen you.
MAJ. T.
The government gave me their bill, and I wished, at the signing of the
peace, to have the sum entered amongst the debts to be repaid by them.
The bill was acknowledged as good, but my ownership of the same was
disputed. People looked incredulous, when I declared that I had myself
advanced the amount in cash. It was considered as bribery, as a
douceur from the government, because I at once agreed to take the
smallest sum with which I could have been satisfied in a case of the
greatest exigency. Thus the bill went from my possession, and if it be
paid, will certainly not be paid to me. Hence, Madam, I consider my
honour to be suspected! not on account of my discharge, which, if I
had not received, I should have applied for. You look serious, Madam!
Why do you not laugh? Ha! ha! ha! I am laughing.
MIN.
Oh! stifle that laugh, Tellheim, I implore you! It is the terrible
laugh of misanthropy. No, you are not the man to repent of a good
deed, because it may have had a bad result for yourself. Nor can these
consequences possibly be of long duration. The truth must come to
light. The testimony of my uncle, of our government!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Of your uncle! Of your government! Ha! ha! ha!
MIN.
That laugh will kill me, Tellheim. If you believe in virtue and
Providence, Tellheim, do not laugh so! I never heard a curse more
terrible than that laugh! But, viewing the matter in the worst light,
if they are determined to mistake your character here, with us you
will not be misunderstood. No, we cannot, we will not, misunderstand
you, Tellheim. And if our government has the least sentiment of
honour, I know what it must do. But I am foolish; what would that
matter? Imagine, Tellheim, that you have lost the two thousand
pistoles on some gay evening. The king was an unfortunate card for
you: the queen
(pointing to herself)
will be so much the more favourable. Providence, believe me, always
indemnifies a man of honour—often even beforehand. The action which
was to cost you two thousand pistoles, gained you me. Without that
action, I never should have been desirous of making your acquaintance.
You know I went uninvited to the first party where I thought I should
meet you. I went entirely on your account. I went with a fixed
determination to love you—I loved you already! with the fixed
determination to make you mine, if I should find you as dark and ugly
as the Moor of Venice. So dark and ugly you are not; nor will you be
so jealous. But, Tellheim, Tellheim, you are yet very like him! Oh!
the unmanageable, stubborn man, who always keeps his eye fixed upon
the phantom of honour, and becomes hardened against every other
sentiment! Your eyes this way! Upon me,—me, Tellheim!
(He remains thoughtful and immovable, with his eyes fixed on one
spot.)
Of what are you thinking? Do you not hear me?
MAJ. T. (absent).
Oh, yes; but tell me, how came the Moor into the service of Venice?
Had the Moor no country of his own? Why did he hire his arm and his
blood to a foreign land?
MIN. (alarmed).
Of what are you thinking, Tellheim? It is time to break off. Come!
(taking him by the hand).
Franziska, let the carriage be brought round.
MAJ. T. (disengaging his hand, and following Franziska).
No, Franziska; I cannot have the honour of accompanying your mistress.
Madam, let me still retain my senses unimpaired for to-day, and give
me leave to go. You are on the right way to deprive me of them. I
resist it as much as I can. But hear, whilst I am still myself, what I
have firmly determined, and from which nothing in the world shall turn
me. If I have not better luck in the game of life; if a complete
change in my fortune does not take place; if!!!!!
MIN.
I must interrupt you, Major. We ought to have told him that at first,
Franziska.—You remind me of nothing.—Our conversation would have
taken quite a different turn, Tellheim, if I had commenced with the
good news which the Chevalier de la Marliniere brought just now.
MAJ. T.
The Chevalier de la Marliniere! Who is he?
FRAN.
He may be a very honest man, Major von Tellheim, except that!!!!!
MIN.
Silence, Franziska! Also a discharged officer from the Dutch service,
who!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Ah! Lieutenant Riccaut!
MIN.
He assured us he was a friend of yours.
MAJ. T.
I assure you that I am not his.
MIN.
And that some minister or other had told him, in confidence, that your
business was likely to have the very best termination. A letter from
the king must now be on its way to you.
MAJ. T.
How came Riccaut and a minister in company? Something certainly must
have happened concerning my affair; for just now the paymaster of the
forces told me that the king had set aside all the evidence offered
against me, and that I might take back my promise, which I had given
in writing, not to depart from here until acquitted. But that will be
all. They wish to give me an opportunity of getting away. But they are
wrong, I shall not go. Sooner shall the utmost distress waste me away
before the eyes of my calumniators, than!!!!!
MIN.
Obstinate man!
MAJ. T.
I require no favour; I want justice. My honour!!!!!
MIN.
The honour of such a man!!!!!
MAJ. T. (warmly).
No, Madam, you may be able to judge of any other subject, but not of
this. Honour is not the voice of conscience, not the evidence of a few
honourable men!!!!!
MIN.
No, no, I know it well. Honour is... honour.
MAJ. T.
In short, Madam... You did not let me finish.—I was going to say,
if they keep from me so shamefully what is my own; if my honour be not
perfectly righted—I cannot, Madam, ever be yours, for I am not
worthy, in the eyes of the world, of being yours. Minna von Barnhelm
deserves an irreproachable husband. It is a worthless love which does
not scruple to expose its object to scorn. He is a worthless man, who
is not ashamed to owe a woman all his good fortune; whose blind
tenderness!!!!!
MIN.
And is that really your feeling, Major?
(turning her back suddenly).
Franziska!
MAJ. T.
Do not be angry.
MIN. (aside to Franziska).
Now is the time! What do you advise me, Franziska?
FRAN.
I advise nothing. But certainly he goes rather too far.
MAJ. T. (approaching to interrupt them).
You are angry, Madam.
MIN. (ironically).
I? Not in the least.
MAJ. T.
If I loved you less!!!!!
MIN. (still in the same tone).
Oh! certainly, it would be a misfortune for me. And hear, Major, I
also will not be the cause of your unhappiness. One should love with
perfect disinterestedness. It is as well that I have not been more
open! Perhaps your pity might have granted to me what your love
refuses.
(Drawing the ring slowly from her finger.)
MAJ. T.
What does this mean, Madam?
MIN.
No, neither of us must make the other either more or less happy. True
love demands it. I believe you, Major; and you have too much honour to
mistake love.
MAJ. T.
Are you jesting, Madam?
MIN.
Here! take back the ring with which you plighted your troth to me.
(Gives him the ring.)
Let it be so! We will suppose we have never met.
MAJ. T.
What do I hear?
MIN.
Does it surprise you? Take it, sir. You surely have not been
pretending only!
MAJ. T. (takes the ring from her).
Heavens! can Minna speak thus?
MIN.
In one case you cannot be mine; in no case can I be yours. Your
misfortune is probable; mine is certain. Farewell!
(Is going.)
MAJ. T.
Where are you going, dearest Minna?
MIN.
Sir, you insult me now by that term of endearment.
MAJ. T.
What is the matter, Madam? Where are you going?
MIN.
Leave me. I go to hide my tears from you, deceiver!
(Exit.)
SCENE VII.
Major von Tellheim, Franziska
MAJ. T.
Her tears? And I am to leave her.
(Is about to follow her.)
FRAN. (holding him back).
Surely not, Major. You would not follow her into her own room!
MAJ. T.
Her misfortune? Did she not speak of misfortune?
FRAN.
Yes, truly; the misfortune of losing you, after!!!!!
MAJ. T.
After? After what? There is more in this. What is it, Franziska? Tell
me! Speak!
FRAN.
After, I mean, she has made such sacrifices on your account.
MAJ. T.
Sacrifices for me!
FRAN.
Well, listen. It is a good thing for you, Major, that you are freed
from your engagement with her in this manner.—Why should I not tell
you? It cannot remain a secret long. We have fled from home. Count von
Bruchsal has disinherited my mistress, because she would not accept a
husband of his choice. On that every one deserted and slighted her.
What could we do? We determined to seek him, whom!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Enough! Come, and let me throw myself at her feet.
FRAN.
What are you thinking about! Rather go, and thank your good fortune.
MAJ. T.
Pitiful creature! For what do you take me? Yet no, my dear Franziska,
the advice did not come from your heart. Forgive my anger!
FRAN.
Do not detain me any longer. I must see what she is about. How easily
something might happen to her. Go now, and come again, if you like.
(Follows Minna.)
SCENE VIII.
Major von Tellheim
MAJ. T.
But, Franziska! Oh! I will wait your return here.—No, that is more
torturing!—If she is in earnest, she will not refuse to forgive me.
Now I want your aid, honest Werner!—No, Minna, I am no deceiver!
(Rushes off.)
ACT V.
SCENE I.
Major von Tellheim (from one side), Werner (from the other)
MAJ. T.
Ah! Werner! I have been looking for you everywhere. Where have you
been?
WER.
And I have been looking for you, Major; that is always the way.—I
bring you good news.
MAJ. T.
I do not want your news now; I want your money. Quick, Werner, give me
all you have; and then raise as much more as you can.
WER.
Major! Now, upon my life, that is just what I said—"He will borrow
money from me, when he has got it himself to lend."
MAJ. T.
You surely are not seeking excuses!
WER.
That I may have nothing to upbraid you with, take it with your right
hand, and give it me again with your left.
MAJ. T.
Do not detain me, Werner. It is my intention to repay you; but when
and how, God knows!
WER.
Then you do not know yet that the treasury has received an order to
pay you your money? I just heard it at!!!!!
MAJ. T.
What are you talking about? What nonsense have you let them palm off
on you? Do you not see that if it were true I should be the first
person to know it? In short, Werner, money! money!
WER.
Very well, with pleasure. Here is some! A hundred louis d'ors there,
and a hundred ducats there.
(Gives him both.)
MAJ. T.
Werner, go and give Just the hundred louis d'ors. Let him redeem the
ring again, on which he raised the money this morning. But whence will
you get some more, Werner? I want a good deal more.
WER.
Leave that to me. The man who bought my farm lives in the town. The
date for payment is a fortnight hence, certainly; but the money is
ready, and by a reduction of one half per cent!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Very well, my dear Werner! You see that I have had recourse to you
alone—I must also confide all to you. The young lady you have seen is
in distress!!!!!
WER.
That is bad!
MAJ. T.
But to-morrow she shall be my wife.
WER.
That is good!
MAJ. T.
And the day after, I leave this place with her. I can go; I will go. I
would sooner throw over everything here! Who knows where some good
luck may be in store for me? If you will, Werner, come with us. We
will serve again.
WER.
Really? But where there is war, Major!
MAJ. T.
To be sure. Go, Werner, we will speak of this again.
WER.
Oh! my dear Major! The day after to-morrow! Why not to-morrow? I will
get everything ready. In Persia, Major, there is a famous war; what do
you say?
MAJ. T.
We will think of it. Only go, Werner!
WER.
Hurrah! Long live Prince Heraclius!
(Exit.)
SCENE II.
Major von Tellheim
MAJ. T.
How do I feel!... My whole soul has acquired a new impulse. My own
unhappiness bowed me to the ground; made me fretful, short-sighted,
shy, careless: her unhappiness raises me. I see clearly again, and
feel myself ready and capable of undertaking anything for her sake.
Why do I tarry?
(Is going towards Minna's room, when Franziska comes out of it.)
SCENE III.
Franziska, Major von Tellheim
FRAN.
Is it you? I thought I heard your voice. What do you want, Major?
MAJ. T.
What do I want? What is she doing? Come!
FRAN.
She is just going out for a drive.
MAJ. T.
And alone? Without me? Where to?
FRAN.
Have you forgotten, Major?
MAJ. T.
How silly you are, Franziska! I irritated her, and she was angry. I
will beg her pardon, and she will forgive me.
FRAN.
What! After you have taken the ring back, Major!
MAJ. T.
Ah! I did that in my confusion. I had forgotten about the ring. Where
did I put it?
(Searches for it.)
Here it is.
FRAN.
Is that it?
(Aside, as he puts it again in his pocket.)
If he would only look at it closer!
MAJ. T.
She pressed it upon me so bitterly. But I have forgotten that. A full
heart cannot weigh words. She will not for one moment refuse to take
it again. And have I not hers?
FRAN.
She is now waiting for it in return. Where is it, Major? Show it to
me, do!
MAJ. T. (embarrassed).
I have... forgotten to put it on. Just—Just will bring it
directly.
FRAN.
They are something alike, I suppose; let me look at that one. I am
very fond of such things.
MAJ. T.
Another time, Franziska. Come now.
FRAN. (aside).
He is determined not to be drawn out of his mistake.
MAJ. T.
What do you say? Mistake!
FRAN.
It is a mistake, I say, if you think my mistress is still a good
match. Her own fortune is far from considerable; by a few calculations
in their own favour her guardians may reduce it to nothing. She
expected everything from her uncle; but this cruel uncle!!!!!
MAJ. T.
Let him go! Am I not man enough to make it all good to her again!
FRAN.
Do you hear? She is ringing; I must go in again.
MAJ. T.
I will accompany you.
FRAN.
For heaven's sake, no! She forbade me expressly to speak with you.
Come in at any rate a little time after me.
(Goes in.)