The same hall as on the preceding days. The two corners in the foreground, on the right the fireplace with its chairs, on the left the sofa and other furniture are both separated from the centre and background of the hall by means of a rectangular arrangement of oleanders in pots, thus affording two separate cozy corners, between whose high borders of oleander a somewhat narrow passage leads to the background. A banquet board in the form of a horseshoe, the sides of which run to the rear and are hidden by the oleanders. The centre, forming the head of the board, is plainly visible from the passage. It is almost noon. Dim light, reflected from the snow outside, comes in through the middle window of the back wall, a view of which is afforded through the opening in the centre. The snowflakes flutter down drearily as on the previous day. The fire now and then casts a red light upon the oleanders, which separate the space surrounding the fireplace from the background. Aunt Clara, in mourning as before, and Lene, also dressed in black, are busy at the table, which has been set. They move to and fro arranging plates, glasses and bottles. After a moment.

Aunt Clara (comes forward in the direction of the passage, inspects the whole arrangement and speaks to Lene who is occupied in the background, where she cannot be seen). Are all of the knives and forks properly arranged back there?

Lene (not visible). Everything's in order, Miss Clara.

Aunt Clara. Why, then we are through.

Lene. They can come right along now.

Aunt Clara. I can't help but think that it's time for the bell. (The old clock in the corridor outside begins to strike.)

Lene (has come forward). It's striking twelve.

Aunt Clara. You're certain, are you, that the roast is being basted properly?

Lene. Oh, Lizzie's looking after things.

Aunt Clara. The sermon seems to be pretty long.

Lene. Oh, he can never find his finish. Miss Clara.

Aunt Clara. Let him talk, for all I care! Only I might have put off the dinner.

Lene (listens). Now the bell is ringing. (Distant, indistinct tones of a church bell are heard.)

Aunt Clara (also listens). Yes, they are ringing. Then it is over. (She folds her hands as if in prayer.)

Lene (timidly). Now the coffin's in the ground, ain't it, Miss Clara?

Aunt Clara (murmurs). God grant him eternal peace!

Lene (also with hands folded). Amen!

Aunt Clara (continues murmuring). And light everlasting shine for him!

Lene (as before). Amen!

Aunt Clara (partly to herself). I should have been glad to pay him the last honor, but it was impossible. What would have become of the roast? We shall see each other in the next world anyhow. It will not be very long!

Lene (comforting her). Oh, Miss Clara.

Aunt Clara (seizes her arm). Don't stand there! Do your work! They will surely be here directly, (Counts the places.) Six ... eight ... twelve ... sixteen ... eighteen ... twenty ... twenty-two ...

Lene. That's the number. There are eight sleighs.

Aunt Clara. Go and open the door of the green room!

Lene (goes off to the left). What will Mrs. Warkentin say to that?

Aunt Clara. I will attend to that. It can't be helped today. We shall have to use the rooms for our coffee later.

Lene (returns). She'll make a nice fuss!

Aunt Clara. Off with you now. They are coming. Take the ladies and gentlemen into the front rooms until we have the dinner on the table. Then you can go and call them.

Lene. Very well, Miss Clara. (Quickly off to the right.)

[Short pause, during which Aunt Clara stands listening. Then Hella enters from the right, dressed in black.]

Hella (with a quick glance to the left, then to Aunt Clara who has retreated to the background). What is the matter with my room? Why are the doors open?

Aunt Clara. The guests certainly must have some place where they can relax a bit, later on.

Hella (nonplussed). In my rooms?

Aunt Clara. They surely can't sit around in this one place the whole afternoon. They must take their coffee somewhere.

Hella (from the left). Why I do say ...! Really! All of my books are gone!

Aunt Clara (indifferently). I put things to rights a bit, madam. Why I couldn't leave them as they were. I took the books upstairs.

Hella. Upstairs! Very well, then that's where I will go. (Starts out toward the right.)

Paul (enters and runs into Hella). Where are you going?

Hella. I am going upstairs.

Paul. Where are you going!

Hella. Upstairs. I can't find a nook down here today where I might rest.

Paul. So you really refuse to dine with us?

Hella (places her hand on his arm). Spare me the agony, Paul! You know I can't endure so many strangers. It will give me a headache.

Paul. Stay a short time at least! Show that much consideration!

Hella (retreats a step). Consideration ... No one shows me any consideration!

Paul (pacing up and down). Nice mess, when not even the nearest relatives ...

Hella. Why, you are to be present.

Paul. But you must be present! I desire it, Hella!

Hella. And what if I simply cannot?

Paul (plants himself before her). Why not?

Hella. Because I cannot. Because I hate these feeds!

Paul (more calmly). That is correct. So do I! But what can we do about it? It is the custom.

Hella. Custom, Paul, custom!... Have we founded our life upon old customs?

Paul (embittered). If we only had!

Hella (looks at him sharply). Do you think so?

Paul. Yes, possibly we should have fared better.

Hella (very emphatically). And then, my dear, I will tell you one thing more. You are compelling me to do so.

Paul. And that is?

Hella. I don't care to lie.

Paul. What do you mean by that?

Hella. I don't care to feign, to these people, feelings that are entirely absent. That is why I am going upstairs.

Paul (very calmly). Does that refer to ... the dead?

Hella. Yes, it does! I did not know him and he did not know me! Did not care to know me. What obligations remain for me? None at all.

Paul. Are you serious?

Hella (bolt upright). In all seriousness. Now it is out.

Paul (quite calm). Very well, then go!

Hella. I'll see you later. (She goes toward the right.)

Paul (struggles for composure, then suddenly). Hella! For my sake ... Do not go. Stay here!

Hella (turns to him). No, Paul, one should not force himself to do such things. Put the responsibility upon your father! I am not to blame. I am only acting as I must. You would do the same. [Off at the right.]

Paul (beside himself). It's well that you are reminding me of that.

Aunt Clara (approaches). Shall I remove your wife's plate?

Paul. Yes, take the plate away.

Aunt Clara. Have you seen the Laskowskis?

Paul. Yes, at the cemetery, Auntie. I shall go now and call the guests. (Goes off.)

[Aunt Clara walks toward the right, shaking her head, then pulls the bell.]

Lene (comes in from the right, behind the scene). What is it. Miss Clara?

Aunt Clara. Have the soup brought in! It will take me some time to fill all of the plates, anyhow.

Lene. Very well!

Aunt Clara. Now where are you to serve? And where is the coachman to serve? You haven't forgotten?

Lene. I am to serve on the right and the coachman on the left. Is that right?

Aunt Clara. Yes, you may go! And don't forget, all serving is to be done by way of the green room! Be sure not to come in from this side! [Lene goes off.]

[Aunt Clara retires to the background, where she is occupied for some time, without being very much in evidence. The door at the right is opened.]

Paul (still hidden to view). Come in, ladies and gentlemen! In this way! (von Tiedemann, Mrs. von Tiedemann, Dr. Bodenstein, Raabe, father and son, Mertens, Kunze, Mrs. Borowski, Schnaase, Mrs. Schnaase, Josupeit, Licentiate Schrock and others enter and dispose themselves in groups before and behind the Oleanders.)

Raabe, Sr. (puts his hand up to his side). I don't know, but that cemetery put a stitch into my side.

Schnaase. Yes, that was a nasty, cold snow. If we only get something to eat soon!... So we can warm up!

von Tiedemann. Ought to be a bit careful of yourself at your age, Mr. Raabe!

Raabe. Why, how old am I? Seventy!

von Tiedemann. Not worth mentioning, eh? Prime of life!... How old was Warkentin?

Schnaase. Why we just heard about that in the sermon, sixty-two!

von Tiedemann. Not very old!

Raabe. Yes, that's the way they go ...

Schnaase. To the grand army, eh Raabe, old boy? Who knows when we will get our orders.

Raabe. It will be our turn next.

von Tiedemann. Don't say that! It is not a matter of age! Look at Warkentin, did he give evidence of his end?

Schnaase. The affair with his son put him over, or he would be here today.

von Tiedemann (looks around). Why, where is the young man?

Schnaase. Pretty nice fellow in other respects!

von Tiedemann. He will have a deuce of a time if he intends to farm here. You can't pick that up helter skelter. Has any one heard? Does he intend to take it on? Or is he going to sell?

[He turns toward the rear. Meanwhile Antoinette, Paul, AND Glyszinski have entered from the right and have joined a group of guests in the background.]

Raabe. In the old days the son always followed in the footsteps of his father. The son of a land-owner became a land-owner. That's all out of style now. Everybody goes to school.

Schnaase. Well, your son is doing that very thing, Raabe.

Raabe, Jr. (has come forward). Good morning, Mr. Schnaase!

Schnaase. Good morning, brother student!

Raabe, Jr. Well, pa?

Raabe. Well, my son?

Schnaase. Keeping right after beerology, young man?

Raabe, Jr. Purty well, thanks! A fellow guzzles his way through.

Schnaase. How many semesters does this make, Mr. Raabe?

Raabe, Jr. Mebbie you'd better not ask about that.

Raabe. How many semesters? Twelve! Isn't that it, my son?

Raabe, Jr. Astoundingly correct!

Schnaase. Then I suppose you'll tackle the examinations one of these days, Mr. Raabe?

Raabe, Jr. There's plenty of time.

Raabe. Just let him study his fill! I'm not at all in favor of too much hurry! He'll get office and emoluments soon enough.

Schnaase. I know one thing, my boy will not get into a gymnasium! The agricultural school for him, till he can qualify for the one year's service and off with him. No big notions for him!

Raabe (holds his side). Outch, there's my stitch again!

Raabe, Jr. Take a whisky, pa! Shall I get us a couple?

Raabe. A few fingers might not do any harm.

Schnaase. Have the girl before you kiss her, according to Lehmann.[A]

[Footnote A: Nickname of Emperor William I, who according to popular report took an interest in girls.]

Raabe, Jr. What'll you bet? I can get some! (He hastens to the rear.)

Raabe. Divvel of a fellow!

Schnaase. Well now, I'd just like to see. (Both of them follow Raabe, JR. to the rear.)

Mrs. von Tiedemann and Mrs. Schnaase come from the left arm in arm.

Mrs. von Tiedemann (with a glance at the arrangements). That is not exactly extraordinary.

Mrs. Schnaase. Oh, I don't know, Elizabeth, I find it quite pretty.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. And the wife does not seem to be much in evidence.

Mrs. Schnaase. Yes, she seems a bit high toned.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Quite a bit. I wonder what kind of notions she has about the society that she has encountered here!

Mrs. Schnaase. Do you think they will stay here?

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Such creatures blow in from Berlin, puff up like a turkey gobbler. I'd hate to know about her past!

Mrs. Schnaase. Mrs. Laskowski looks pretty interesting today.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Do you think so? Well, perhaps she has her reasons.

Mrs. Schnaase. You don't say! Do tell.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Don't you know about it at all?

Mrs. Schnaase. Why no, what? I don't get out very much, you know.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. It was before your day. You were not here then. I have a dim recollection, when I was quite a young girl.

Mrs. Schnaase (all ear, seizes her arm). Is it possible? What was it?

Mrs. von Tiedemann (subdued). She had an affair with him ...

Mrs. Schnaase. With whom, pray tell?

Mrs. von Tiedemann. The man with whom she is standing there.

Mrs. Schnaase. Why that is young Mr. Warkentin.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Pst. They are coming. (Quite subdued.) Later she married her husband out of spite, because she did not get him!

Mrs. Schnaase (squints curiously at Antoinette). To think that she would still talk to him!

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Heavens, what does she care! (To Dr. Bodenstein, who is quietly conversing with Mertens at the fireplace.) Doctor, just a word!

Dr. Bodenstein. At your service, madam! (He straightens up promptly and hastens to her.)

Mrs. von Tiedemann. I only wanted to ask about a trifling matter, Doctor.

Dr. Bodenstein. I shall be delighted, madam.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. But no one must hear us. (Both disappear to the rear.)

Mertens (has also stepped out from the recess of the fireplace, to Mrs. Schnaase). If you are willing to put up with me for the present, madam?

Mrs. Schnaase. Oh, thank you very much! But I might ...

Mertens. Please, please, madam! May I offer you my arm? (He takes her arm.)

Josupeit (has rushed up to the two from the background). Too late! Just my luck! I was about to report!

Mertens. You will have to get up a bit earlier the next time, my dear fellow; I shall take you to the table, madam.

Josupeit (from the other side). Take me to the table dear, good madam! I'll tell you something quite interesting too.

Paul (has come forward with Antoinette). We shall eat immediately, Mr. Mertens.

Mertens. Please, please, as concerns me! (He escorts Mrs. Schnaase. )

Josupeit (catches sight of Paul, suddenly assumes a funereal air). My heartfelt sympathy, Mr. Warkentin! (He seizes his hand and shakes it.)

Paul, (reserved). I thank you! Josupeit (is silent for a moment, then continues). Another man of honor gone. (Paul nods silently. Josupeit again after a brief silence.) Terribly sudden!

Paul (nods again and says). But I must not detain you, Mr. Josupeit!

Josupeit. Once more, my heartfelt sympathy!

[Josupeit and the rest go off to the rear.]

Paul (to Antoinette who has stepped forward to the right near the fireplace). You see, madam, that's the way of it! Just back from the cemetery. One buried forever, and the next moment all of their thoughts somewhere else. Joyous and of good cheer.

Antoinette (stares into the fire, bitterly). Yes, that's the way of it!

Paul. Life rolls on merrily. The dead are dead. We shall have the same fate some day, madam.

Antoinette. Of course we shall. It is immaterial to me.

Paul (looks at her). Really?

Antoinette. It does not matter to me, whether it comes today or tomorrow. Sometime I shall have to go! So the quicker the better. It is all over with me!

Paul. Antoinette!

Antoinette. You may believe me, I am quite serious!

Paul (completely absorbed, as he looks at her). How calmly you say that! In the very bloom of life! I cannot think of you thus.

Antoinette. How?

Paul. Cold and dead.

Antoinette. But I can. Very well indeed. I am so now!

Paul. That isn't true, Antoinette. Your eyes tell a different story!

Antoinette (shrugging her shoulders). Never mind my eyes!

Paul. But I can't help it. I must look into them! I feel as if I must find something there.

Antoinette (turning away). Don't go to any trouble!

Paul. Indeed, indeed, Antoinette!

Antoinette. What in the world could you find?

Paul. ... Possibly my lost life?

Antoinette (excited). Why do you speak so to me, Paul?

Paul. Do I hear it from your lips, Paul, Paul, as of old?

Antoinette (frightened). Paul! Paul! Desist!

Paul. It has been a long time since I have heard that sound!

Antoinette. Desist, at least for today, I beg of you! It seems like a sin to me!

Paul. Why like a sin?

Antoinette. You were just remarking about the rest, and now you are doing the same thing, forgetting the dead.

Paul. I—forget him? I am thinking of him incessantly! And of his last words, before we parted forever! Do you know what they were, Toinette?

Antoinette (subdued). Tell me!

Paul. "Go! Some day you will be sorry!" ... Possibly he was right, the dear old man! Today it kept resounding from his open grave, as the clods and lumps of snow rumbled down on his coffin. "Are you sorry now? Are you sorry now?" ... I have tried to get rid of it, but it refuses to go. It keeps pursuing me and cries into my ears!

Laskowski (has approached the two). Well, dearie, how are you? What are you doing?

Antoinette (turns around, as if recoiling from something poisonous). Oh, it's you!

Laskowski. Who would it be? Ain't it up to me to look after my dearie now and then. Shan't we eat? They are all sitting down.

Paul (has become composed). Your husband is quite right, madam. We are the last. Unfortunately Mrs. Warkentin is not very well. May I request you to play the part of the hostess a bit?

Antoinette (distressed). If it must be, Doctor ...

Paul (looks at her). Yes, there is no help for it, madam. (Escorts her through the passage to the table.)

Laskowski (following them). And I, old boy. Where am I to go?

Paul (grimly). Wherever you please! The world is wide and there is room for all. (He leads Antoinette around the table to her place.)

Laskowski. I guess the shortest way is the best! I'm going to sit right here. (He sits down beside Mrs. von Tiedemann, all the rest have also gradually taken their places. The order at the visible central portion of the table is as follows, from left to right: Outside, Kunze, Laskowski, Mrs. von Tiedemann, Director Mertens, Mrs. Schnaase; opposite these inside, Mrs. Borowski, Paul, Antoinette, Mr. von Tiedemann, Dr. Bodenstein. During the whole of the following scene they are eating and drinking. Lene and Fritz, in livery, move to and fro, serving. Aunt Clara comes in and goes out as the occasion demands. She has her seat with those who are hidden and whose voices are only heard at times. At first the conversation remains subdued.)

Kunze (rises). Ladies and gentlemen! Before sitting down at the board, to regale ourselves with food and drink, does it not involve upon us to devote a few words to the memory of the beloved deceased, whose mortal remains we have today conducted to the last resting place. And how can we do that more fittingly, ladies and gentlemen, than by recalling the words recorded in holy writ. Ladies and gentlemen, what are the words of the psalmist? The days of our years are three-score years and ten; and if, by reason of strength, they be four-score years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow; for it is soon cut off and we fly away! Ladies and gentlemen! He who no longer dwells in our midst in the body, but whose spirit is looking down upon all of us, the beloved deceased, may he rest in peace.

[Silence. Short pause as they continue to eat.]

Laskowski (the first to finish his soup, leans back). A soup like that does warm a fellow up.

von Tiedemann. Especially when you have been out in your sleigh for nearly two hours.

Laskowski. And then a full hour at the cemetery on top of it.

Mrs. von Tiedemann (quickly). But the sermon was really touching. From the very heart. Any one who had known the dead man ...

Laskowski. Not a soul kept from crying!

von Tiedemann. Yes, remarkably beautiful!

Laskowski. A fellow forgot all about being hungry.

Mrs. Borowski (leans over to Paul). Are they talking about the sermon?

Paul (aloud). Yes, Mrs. Borowski.

Mrs. Borowski. I didn't understand very much.

Paul (courteously). At your age, Mrs. Borowski!

Mertens (in an undertone to Mrs. von Tiedemann). Who is she?

Mrs. von Tiedemann. It's the widow of the former teacher at the estate here.

Mertens. She seems to hail from the days of the French occupation!

von Tiedemann. Does she? She has at least eighty years on her back.

Mertens. But is well preserved.

Mrs. Borowski (to Paul). I say, Mr. Warkentin, I knew your father when he was no bigger than ... (Holding her hand not far from the ground.)

Paul (subdued). Fifty years ago?

Mrs. Borowski. Oh, it's longer than that. Almost sixty. I saw them all grow up. Now I'm almost the only one left from those times.

Laskowski (leans over toward her with his glass). Well, here's to you Auntie!... You don't drink very much any more I suppose? (He drinks.)

Mrs. Borowski. Oh, indeed! I am still able to take a glass.

Paul. Come, Mrs. Borowski, let me help you. (He fills her glass.)

Mrs. Borowski. When I was young I never caught sight of wine. Now that I'm old I have more than I can drink.

Laskowski. Drink ahead, Auntie! Drink ahead! Wine makes you young!

Mrs. Borowski. You know, your good wife is always sending me some.

Laskowski (nonplussed). I do say, dearie, why, I don't know a thing about that.

[Antoinette silently shrugs her shoulders and casts a quick glance at him.]

Laskowski (friendly again). Makes no difference, dearie, no difference at all! Just send ahead! We do have a lot of it.

Antoinette. There is surely enough for us to spare a little for an old lady.

Laskowski. Sure, dearie!

Mrs. Borowski (leans over to Antoinette). Do you remember, pet, how you used to come and call with your parents, now dead and gone? A little bit of a thing you were, Paul would lift you on the horse and you didn't cry at all, you sat there just like a grown-up ... I remember it very well.

Antoinette. I don't. Such things are forgotten.

Paul (looks at her). Have you really forgotten that, madam?

Antoinette. Heavens, I haven't thought of it again.

Mrs. Borowski. Just wait and see, pet, when you are old you will think of it again.

Antoinette. Not all people grow to be as old as you, dear Mrs. Borowski.

Laskowski (has partaken freely of the wine). Dearie, you'll grow as old as the hills! I can prophesy that much. Haven't you the finest kind of a time!

Antoinette. I?... Of course!

Laskowski (garrulously). What do you lack!... Nuthin'!... Children's what you lack!

Antoinette (looks at him sharply). Never mind, please!

Laskowski (abashed). Well, well, don't put on so, dearie!

Mrs. von Tiedemann (to Paul). Have you any children, Doctor?

Paul. No, I'm sorry to say, madam.

Mr. von Tiedemann (to his wife). We're better off in that respect, Bess, aren't we? Three lusty bairns!

Mrs. Schnaase. And we, with our five!

Laskowski (touched). Do you see, dearie! What am I always tellin' you! An agriculturalist without children ...

Kunze. Abraham scored one hundred when the Lord bestowed his son Isaac upon him.

Laskowski. But a fellow like me can't wait that long—stuff and nonsense. What if I die and ...

Paul. You will take care not to do that.

Laskowski. Don't say that, brother! I'm going to die young! I'm sure of it. An old woman once told my fortune, and she said I wouldn't see more than fifty. But, do you know what, dearie?

Mrs. von Tiedemann (to Antoinette). I suppose you frequently came to Ellernhof in the old days, Madam von Laskowski?

Antoinette. Why, the departed was my guardian, you know, Mrs. Von Tiedemann.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Oh yes. I had forgotten that.

von Tiedemann. Do you ride horseback as much as ever, madam?

Antoinette. Now and then, for pastime!

Laskowski. Now don't you say a word, dearie! Why, you're pasted on a horse all day long, and then from horseback right into the cold, cold water. Did anybody ever hear the like of it?

Paul (to Antoinette). Yesterday I had a horseback ride again too, madam. Have I told you about it? The first time in years. And, what is more, I got quite near your place. I was even able to see the houses of Klonowken.

Antoinette. Did you ride through the forest?

Paul. Of course, through the pine forest of Klonowken, yesterday morning. Right through the snow.

Antoinette. Why, I was out at the same time.

Paul (looks at her). You were, madam? Too bad! Why did we not chance to meet?

Antoinette. I suppose it was not ordained so.

Laskowski (after drinking again). I say, dearie, one of these days when I die, do you know what I'll do?

Mertens. If one of us dies, I'll go to Karlsbad, eh, Laskowski?

Laskowski. Listen, dearie! You'll inherit all I have an' marry another fellow!

Paul (sternly). Control yourself a bit, Laskowski.

Laskowski (undaunted). Ain't that true, dearie? Tell me that you'll come to my grave! Promise me that much, dearie! Then I'll die easy. You'll come along and sit down and cry a few tearies on my grave. (He chokes down his tears and drinks again.)

von Tiedemann (has also been drinking freely). Well, here's to our friend, departed in his prime. (He raises his glass to Laskowski. )

Mrs. von Tiedemann (disapprovingly). Why, Fritz!

von Tiedemann (collecting himself). H'm! Well ... Didn't think of that. One forgets. Pardon me!

Antoinette. Will you not help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen? (To Lene, who is just passing with dishes in her hands.) Serve around once more!

von Tiedemann (helps himself). My favorite dish, veal-roast!... (To Bodenstein. ) What do you say, Doctor, you are so quiet?

Dr. Bodenstein. Do whatever you do, with a will! I am now devoting myself to culinary delights!

Mertens. I regard this sauce a phenomenal achievement.

Mrs. Schnaase. There are tomatoes in it, I think.

Mertens. I must ask for the recipe.

Raabe, Junior's(voice in the background). Here's to you!

Voices (in confusion, in the background). Here's to you! Your health!

Laskowski (gets up, raises his glass toward the background). Here's to everybody!

Voices (from behind). Here's to you, Laskowski!

Schrock's (voice). Here's to you, old rough-neck!

Paul. Don't drink so much, Laskowski! (Antoinette bites her lips and looks away.)

Laskowski (whispering). Let me drink, brother! Drink and forget your pain, says Schiller. Ain't that it, old chap, ain't it, now? You're a kind of a poet yourself, ain't you?

von Tiedemann (in an undertone, to Mertens). He's tanking up again!

Antoinette (to Paul, through her teeth). Awful!

Paul (in an undertone). Oh, don't mind him.

Laskowski. Let me drink, old fellow. I'm not going to live long anyhow. It's on my chest ... Do you hear it rattle, old boy? Listen! Just listen! Listen to me, not to my dearie. When we're dead, we're out of it! We'll not get another drop! An' then we'll sleep till judgment day in the pitch-dark grave. Then you'll be rid of me, dearie!

Antoinette (gets up). Excuse me, Doctor!

Paul (also jumps up). Are you ill, madam?

Mrs. von Tiedemann (moves aside). Now it is getting a bit uncanny.

Mrs. Borowski (her hand at her ear). Are they talking about the judgment day?

Kunze (who eats away lustily, partly to himself). On the judgment day when the Lord will return to judge the quick and the dead.

Paul (to Antoinette, who partly leans upon him). How are you, Antoinette!

Antoinette (has become composed again). I am all right again.

Mrs. Schnaase. Would you like a glass of water?

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Yes, water!

Antoinette. No, thank you! This awful heat!... Don't let me disturb you.

[The conversation which had become very loud is carried on in a more subdued manner. All are whispering to each other.]

Paul, Shall I take you out, madam?

Antoinette (with a supreme effort). No, thank you, I shall remain! (Sits down again.)

Laskowski (with a stupid stare). Just stay here, dearie! Just stay here!

Paul. Now do be quiet, Laskowski. (Also sits down again.)

Laskowski Ain't I quiet, brother? Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet!... Quiet as the grave! Damn it all. I wonder how your father feels now.

Kunze. We are happy, but he is happier.

Antoinette (frantically controlling herself). Help yourselves, ladies and gentlemen! Mr. von Tiedemann, don't be backward!

von Tiedemann. I'm getting my share.

Mertens. So am I. I don't let things affect my appetite.

Laskowski (singing half audibly). Jinks, do you have to die, young as you are ... young as ...

Mrs. Borowski (to Paul). Now it has come, just as the departed always wished.

Paul. How so, Mrs. Borowski?

Mrs. Borowski. That you would be back, Paul, and that everything about the estate would go right on as before! If he could only look down upon that.

Paul (nervously). Yes!

von Tiedemann (leans over to Paul). Settled fact is it, Mr. Warkentin? Really going to get into the harness?

Laskowski (pricking up his ears). Can't do it, old chap! Come on!... Can't begin to do it!

Paul. I do intend to, Mr. von Tiedemann.

von Tiedemann. Well, you'd better think that over! Not every one can match your father as an agriculturalist.

Paul. With a little honest effort ...

von Tiedemann. If that were all! To begin with, you can't match your father physically. You have to be accustomed to such things. In all kinds of weather! And then ... No child's play to farm now-a-days! Starvation prices for grain! Simply a shame! If that continues I'll vouch that all this blooming farming will go to the devil within twenty years!

Mrs. von Tiedemann (shaking her head). To think of having you speak that way, Fritz!

von Tiedemann. Of course, if a fellow has a few pennies to fall back on, it's not so bad. But how many are there who have. The rest will go broke!

Laskowski (hums again). The Count of Luxemburg has squandered all his cash ... cash ... cash ...

von Tiedemann (eagerly). And who will have the advantage? The few who have money. They will buy for a song and some day, when times are better again, they will sell for twice as much. Some day they are likely to roll in wealth!

Laskowski (as before). Has squandered all his cash ... In one old merry night ... ha, ha!

Antoinette (leans back in her chair). My husband is no longer conscious of what he is saying!

Laskowski. Me? Not conscious?... Don't I know. Word for word! Shall I tell you, dearie? What you said and what I said and what Paul said to you ... Antoinette, how are you?... How are you Antoinette? (Short laugh.) Well, do I know, dearie? Did I hold on to it?

Paul. One must excuse you in your condition.

von Tiedemann. Don't worry about him, madam. He's one of these fellows with a big purse. He may chuckle! I can foresee that he will buy up the whole county some day!

Laskowski. Just what I'll do. What's the price of the world! Five bits a fling!... We can still raise that much. The more foolish the farmer, the bigger his spuds!

Mertens. His sugar-beets!

Laskowski. I say, boys!... Do you know how many tons of sugar-beets I raised to the acre! Last round?

von Tiedemann. Now, don't Spread it on!

Laskowski (jumps up). Fellows! My word of honor! I'm not lying! Thirty-five tons an acre! Who can match that? Nobody can! I can! I'm a devil of a fellow, I've always said so, ain't I, dearie? You know! (He strikes his chest and sits down.)

von Tiedemann. Thirty-five ton per acre! Ridiculous!

Mertens. I can honestly swear to the contrary!

Laskowski. And your dad, I tell you he was mad! He just couldn't look at me! But I don't bear him any grudge! I'm a man of honor! Shake hands, old chap! You say so, ain't I a man of honor? Put 'er there! Man of honor face to face with man of honor. But you must look at me, man alive! Or I won't believe you! (He extends his hand over to Paul. )

Paul (negative gesture). Never mind! Just believe me.

Laskowski (looks at Antoinette). Dearie, don't make such a face! Eat! Eat!... So you can get strong, so you can survive your poor Heliodor! (All except Paul and Antoinette laugh.)

Dr. Bodenstein (to Mertens). Incipient delirium!

[Mrs. von Tiedemann whispers something into Mertens' ear.]

Paul (to Antoinette). You really haven't taken a thing, madam!

Antoinette. I am not hungry. But will the ladies and gentlemen not take something more? A little more of the dessert, perhaps.

von Tiedemann. No, thanks, madam! I can't eat another thing! Not if I try! Or I'll burst!

Mrs. von Tiedemann (reproachfully). Fritz!

Dr. Bodenstein. Albumen! Fat! Carbo-hydrates! In hoc signo vinces. Mertens. And now a little cup of coffee!

von Tiedemann. And a cock-tail!

Dr. Bodenstein. To retard metabolism!

Paul. The coffee will be here directly!

[Aunt Clara appears upon the scene and talks to Antoinette in an undertone.]

Laskowski (who has been dozing, wakes up again, takes his glass and addresses Paul). You know what I'de done, Paul, if I'd been your dad?

Antoinette (nodding to Aunt Clara). Miss Clara tells me that the coffee is in the next room. Whenever the ladies and gentlemen are so disposed ...

Laskowski (interrupts). If I'de been your father, old chap, I'd drunk all of my claret before my wind-up! I wouldn't 'a left a drop!

Schrock's (voice). Greedy gut!

[All get up and are about to exchange formalities.]

Raabe Junior's (voice in the background). Here's to you!

Dr. Bodenstein (knocks on his glass, with a loud voice). Ladies and gentlemen! Let us dedicate a glass to the memory of the departed, according to the beautiful tradition of our fathers; that we must not mourn the dead, that we should envy them! Our slumbering friend lives on in the memory of those who were near to him! To immortality, in this sense, all of us may, after all, agree in a manner! (He raises his glass and clinks with those beside him. All the rest do the same. Silence prevails. Only the clinking of glasses is heard.)

Paul (raising his glass, to Antoinette). The doctor is right! Let us drink to his memory, madam! May the earth rest lightly on him! (Antoinette lowers her head and stifles her tears.)

Paul (looking at her fervently). Aren't yon going to respond?

Antoinette (musters her strength, raises her head, and with tears in her eyes clinks glasses with him).

Paul (drinks). To the memory of my father.

Antoinette (nods). Your father!

Paul. To that of our parents, madam! A silent glass! (He empties his glass.)

[Antoinette puts down her glass, after she has drunk.]

Laskowski (has noticed Antoinette). Just cry ahead, dearie! Cry your fill! That's the way they'll drink to your Heliodor some day!

Dr. Bodenstein. And so they will drink to all of us some day!

Kunze. For man's life on earth is like unto the grass of the field, on which the wind bloweth. It flourisheth for a season and withereth and no one remembereth it. So also the children of men.

Dr. Bodenstein. This goblet to the departed, one and all! (He drinks again.)

Paul. The departed on these walls! I drink to you! (He raises his glass to the portraits on the walls. All have risen meanwhile, and broken up into new groups. Confusion of voices in the background.)

Schrock and Raabe (have intonated the Gaudeamus. At first softly, then more distinctly the following stanza is sung):

Fording_the_River

FORDING THE WATER

Glyszinski (has joined in lustily at the end, and repeats alone). Ubi jam fuere!

[Mertens, von Tiedemann, Mrs. Schnaase, Mrs. von Tiedemann stand in the foreground where they have been conversing in an undertone.]

Mertens (in an undertone). Now the pot is boiling!

von Tiedemann (a bit mellow). That's the way a funeral should be! No airs! The dead won't become alive again anyhow!

Mertens. Many a man might object to that anyhow!

von Tiedemann. The devil take it. A fellow doesn't want to give up what he once has!

Mertens. Wasn't Laskowski superb again!

von Tiedemann. Always is, of late! Never see him any other way!

Mrs. von Tiedemann. And then Mrs. Laskowski? Did you watch, Gretchen?

Mrs. Schnaase. I don't exactly see, Elizabeth!

Mrs. von Tiedemann. You didn't, how they kept on whispering together? She hasn't a bit of modesty!

von Tiedemann. I'll bet my head Laskowski will plant himself here some day. The young man surely can't make it go in the long run. Why he can't hold on to the estate.

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Didn't she bat her eyes again!

Mertens. She does have eyes!

von Tiedemann. Does she!

Mrs. von Tiedemann. Just go ahead and propose to her, the togged-out thing!... Come on Gretchen!

[Both go off to the left.]

von Tiedemann. Bang!

Mertens. What do you think of that?

von Tiedemann. Let's see if we can find a cocktail! Come on Mertens! (They go out at the left.)

[Paul, Antoinette, Glyszinski come over from the right.]

[Illustration: FORDING THE WATER]

Glyszinski (quite intoxicated, to Antoinette). Without a doubt, madam, a beautiful, sensitive soul will, above all, find expression in the hand. So would you, perhaps, let me have your hand for a moment....

Antoinette (chilly). For what purpose?

Glyszinski (has seized her hand, impassioned). Only to imprint a kiss upon these beautiful, soft, delicate, distinguished, aristocratic finger-tips! (He kisses her finger-tips.)

Antoinette (withdraws her hand). I beg your pardon, sir!

Laskowski (is detained in a group consisting of Schrock, Raabe Jr. , and others. He has seen Glyszinski kiss Antoinette's hand). Boys, let me go!

Schrock, Raabe, and Others. Stay right here, old boy.

Laskowski. Let me go, I say ... I want to get to my dearie! (He tries to disengage himself.)

Schrock (very unsteady on his feet). Dear old chap! I'll ... not ... let you!... Let's have another drink first!

Laskowski. I want to get to my dearie! (They restrain him.)

Glyszinski (follows Antoinette with his eyes. She has retreated behind the oleanders in the foreground on the left). Ravishing creature! I must follow her! (About to follow her.)

Paul. That you will not do! (Intercepts him.)

Glyszinski. Let me pass!

Paul. That way, please! (He points to the left.)

Glyszinski (with clenched fists). Brutal fellow! (He struts toward the left and runs into Laskowski, who is still standing in the group with Schrock and the rest, and who immediately fraternizes with him.)

Paul (looking at him as he goes). A rare team!

Laskowski (approaches Glyszinski, trying to embrace him). Old chap!... Are you a Pole?

Glyszinski. A Pole! Yes, indeed! von Glyszinski!

Laskowski. Your name is Glyszinski! Mine is Laskowski! Come to my heart, fellow countryman!

Raabe. Boys, such a thing as that calls for a drink. (He goes over toward the left.)

Laskowski. Drink, fellow countryman! Drink and kiss my wife. Do you want to kiss my wife?

Glyszinski (pompously). Sir!

Laskowski. You may. Nobody else. A Pole may. Ain't she beautiful, that dearie of mine?

Glyszinski. Beautiful as the starry sky!

Laskowski (embracing his neck). Brother! Come along!

Schrock (stands near them, swaying). Your health, you ... jolly ... brothers!

Laskowski. Brotherhood? Yes, we'll drink to our brotherhood, my fellow countryman.

Raabe (comes in from the left). There's lots of good stuff in there. Come, be quick about it. Too bad to waste your time here!

Laskowski (leading Glyszinski, who resists a trifle, out at the left, singing as he goes). Poland is not lost forever!

[Raabe and Schrock follow arm in arm. The rest have gradually withdrawn toward the left in the course of the preceding scene. Lene and Fritz clear the table and carry out the dishes. Aunt Clara directs the work and assists now and then. Paul stands near the table in the foreground, lost in thought.]

Aunt Clara. Won't you go and have some coffee, Paul?

Paul. No, not now, Auntie! Later! I need a little rest! Will you soon be through?

Aunt Clara. Directly, my boy!... (To Lene. ) Hurry now! There is plenty of work ahead!

Paul (subdued). Leave me alone for a little while, Auntie!

Aunt Clara (understanding him). I'll be going, Paul!

[Lene and Fritz have completed their work and go out at the right.]

Aunt Clara (in an undertone, as she goes toward the right). Have a good chat, Paul!

Paul (seriously). No occasion!

[Aunt Clara goes off at the left. One can hear her, as she closes the door on the left. Silence.]

Paul (stands undecided for a moment, then he slowly walks over to the row of oleanders, where Antoinette sits leaning back in a chair at the sofa table with her hands pressed to her face. He looks at her for a long while, then softly says). Antoinette!

Antoinette (moans to herself, without stirring). My God!... My God!

Paul (places his hand on the crown of her head). You poor ... poor child! (He sits down in the chair beside her, takes her hand which she surrenders to him passively, presses it and tenderly kisses it, saying). Sweet ... sweet Toinette!

[Antoinette covers her face with her left hand while Paul continues to hold her right hand. She is breathing convulsively.]

Paul (looks at her with devotion, closes his hands nervously). I fairly worship you! (Continues to look at her, then says.) Won't you look at me, Antoinette? (He gently removes her hand from her face.) Please, please, Toinette! Let me see your eyes! Just let me see your eyes! (He stoops down over her.)

Antoinette (sinks upon his breast, putting her arms around his neck). Dearest!... Dearest Paul!

Paul (embraces her impetuously). Sweetheart!... Now you are mine!... Sweetheart! (Continuing in a silent, fervent embrace. Pause.)

Antoinette (startled, and tries to withdraw from him). God! Great God!... What have I done?

Paul (holds her and embraces her again). No retreat, Antoinette. No retreat is possible!

Antoinette (beside herself). Let me go, Paul!

Paul. I shall not let you go, Toinette. And if it is a matter of life and death.

Antoinette (with a slight outcry). Paul!

Paul, (presses her to him firmer than ever). Do you want the people to come in? Then call them! Let them find us!

Antoinette (on his breast). I had an intimation of this.

Paul. Did you? You too?

Antoinette. Both of us, Paul! (In rapture.) Kiss me, my friend!... My beloved!

Paul. A thousand times over! (He kisses her.)

Antoinette (returns his kisses). And I, you a thousand times over!

Paul. My dear, tell me that you love me!

Antoinette (nestling up to him). You know I do, dear! ... Why have me tell you?

Paul (with folded hands). Please, please tell me!

Antoinette. I do love you, Paul!

Paul. Tell me again! I have never heard the word! Say it once more!

Antoinette. I have always loved you, Paul!

Paul. Always? Always? Always?

Antoinette. Always!

Paul. And I failed to realize it all!... Fool, fool, fool! (He moans convulsively.)

Antoinette (places her arms about him again). Don't think of it! Not now!

Paul. You are right, dear! Our time is short!

Antoinette. Forget all! Forget! Forget!

Paul. I cannot forget! It was too long!

Antoinette. Indeed it was long! But I knew that you would return.

Paul. And you took the other man?

Antoinette (sadly, but with a touch of roguishness). And you the other woman!

Paul (startled). Do not remind me of it!

Antoinette (endearingly). I took the other man while I was thinking of you! I waited for you!

Paul. Waited for me, and I was not conscious of it. Missed my happiness. Staked my life for nothing! For a delusion! Some one had to die before I could realize what I might have enjoyed! Too late, too late, too late!

Antoinette (endearingly). Forget, my love! Forget! Forget! Lay your head upon my breast!

Paul (places his head upon her bosom). A good resting place.

Antoinette (rocks him in her arms). Sleep, beloved! Sleep!

Paul, (straightens up, beside himself with longing). Antoinette!...

Antoinette. Mine again, lover of my youth!

Paul. Dearest!... Dearest!

Antoinette. Cruel, cruel man!... Mine after tireless seeking.

Paul. Idol of my heart!... Safe in my arms at last! (Pause. Rapturous embrace.)

Paul (straightens up and looks into her eyes). Is this still sinful, sweetheart?

Antoinette (nods gravely). Still! And will remain so.

Paul (roguishly). Not to be forgiven?

Antoinette (gravely). Not to be forgiven!

Paul. And yet you consent, with all your piety?

Antoinette. I do consent! I have no other choice! (She leans upon his breast.)

Paul (embraces her, then with a sad smile). Never to be forgiven, Antoinette?

Antoinette (gently). Possibly! In heaven.

Paul. Your God is inexorable, Antoinette.

Antoinette (impassioned). You are my god! I have ceased to have another!

Paul. And would you follow me, even unto death?

Antoinette. Unto death and beyond!

Paul (is forced to smile). Even to damnation, I dare say?

Antoinette. These terrors have lost their force for both of us!

Paul. Do you think so? Have you already come to this?

Antoinette. We have had our damnation here on earth!

Paul (jumps up). Here on earth! But not one hour more! Now the end is at hand!

Antoinette. Come, dear, sit down with me.

Paul. Yes, let us ponder what we are to do now. (He sits down beside her again.)

Antoinette (nestles up to him). Not now! Not today! Promise me!

Paul. When, when, Toinette? It must come to an end.

Antoinette. It shall! But let me determine the hour, dearest!

Paul. You?

Antoinette, Yes, the day and the hour, do you hear?

Paul. Antoinette, if you put the matter in this way ... I cannot refuse, whatever you may ask!

Antoinette. Only one more day! Then I will write or come and tell you. Will you be ready?

Paul. Then I shall be ready for anything! Then we shall have a reckoning. Then life shall begin all over again.

Antoinette. Yes, another life!

Paul (sadly). Even though the sun is already sinking.... Possibly there is still time.

Antoinette. I shall do anything for you and you will do anything for me.... We agree to that! (They look into each other's eyes.)

Paul (gently). Do you remember, Toinette, on this very spot ...?

Antoinette. Ten years ago? I do! I do!

Paul. How strangely all has come about and how necessary nevertheless! So predestined! So inexorable! Fate! Fate!

Antoinette (brooding). I hung upon your lips and you ignored me! I had ceased to exist for you!

Paul. And so we lost each other.

Antoinette. But today, today we have found each other once more, oh lover of my youth!

Paul. Late, Toinette, so late!

Antoinette. Heavens, how stupid I was in those days!

Paul. Stupid because you loved me, Toinette?

Antoinette. No, because I did not tell you.

Paul. And I did not suspect it! Now who was worse?

Antoinette. Both of us, dear! We were too young!

Paul. And today I am an old man!

Antoinette. And what of me ... An old woman!

Paul. Beloved!... Young and beautiful as ever. How young you have remained all of these years!

Antoinette. For your sake, dear. I knew that I must remain young till you would return! That is why I insisted upon riding like a Cossack ...

Paul. That is why?

Antoinette. And swimming like a trout in the stream! And rowing like a sailor!

Paul. And all in order to remain young and beautiful?... You vain, vain creature!

Antoinette (mysteriously). And in order to forget, you foolish, foolish fellow!

Paul (to himself, bitterly). In order to forget!

Antoinette (taking his head in her hands). Don't think of it! Don't think of it! Now we have found each other again. That too is past!

Paul. Yes, all is past! I have you and shall never leave you!... (Looking up at the walls). Yes, look down upon me out of your frames! Father and mother, envy me! Venerable hall, rarely have you beheld such happiness!...

Antoinette. Happiness and death in one, lover!

Paul. Possibly they are one and the same! (The door at the left is opened, both get up.)

Aunt Clara's (voice from the left). Paul, are you here?

Paul. We are here. Aunt Clara! (Noise from the left.)

Aunt Clara (comes forward). Our guests are about to go, Paul.

Antoinette. Very well! Then we'll go too. (The two walk erectly into the center passage.)

Hella (has opened the door at the right, enters and sees Paul and Antoinette with Aunt Clara). Paul!

Paul (turning around very calmly). Is it you, Hella?

Hella. As you see! (She stands immediately before them, looks at them with a hostile expression; to Antoinette. ) I beg your pardon, madam!

Antoinette (nods her head). Please!

Paul (coldly). What do you wish?

Hella (looks at him nonplussed, is silent a moment and then says curtly). Where is Glyszinski? I need him!

Paul (as before). There, if you please. If you will take the trouble to step into the next room ... (Laskowski and Glyszinski, arm in arm, enter from the left, followed by the other guests.)

Laskowski (very tipsy, but not completely robbed of his senses). Brother! Polish brother! Don't leave me in the lurch ... Help me find my dearie!

Antoinette (with head erect). Here I am.

Laskowski (sobered at the sight of her). Why dearie, where have you been? Have you had a long talk with Paul?

Antoinette (extends her hand to Paul). Good-by, Doctor!

Paul. Good-by, madam! We shall see each other again! (He looks squarely into her eye.)

Antoinette (significantly). We shall see each other again.

Laskowski. Shan't we go, dearie? Why, it's almost evening. Antoinette. Yes, almost evening. I am ready. (She walks over to the right calmly and goes out. The guests prepare to go.)

Hella (has been standing silently witnessing the scene, and now approaches Paul). What does this mean, Paul?

Paul (about to go, frigidly). A woman whom I knew in the old days!... Good-by. (He leaves her and goes out at the right with the guests.)

Hella (partly to herself, partly calling after him). Paul! What does this mean?... Paul!