Time: a few minutes after the incident between HELEN and her step-mother in the yard. The scene is that of the first act.

Dr. SCHIMMELPFENNIG sits at the table in the foreground to the left. He is writing a prescription. His slouch hat, cotton gloves and cane lie on the table before him. He is short and thick-set of figure; his hair is black and clings in small, firm curls to his head; his moustache is rather heavy. He wears a black coat after the pattern of the Jaeger reform garments. He has the habit of stroking or pulling his moustache almost uninterruptedly; the more excited he is, the more violent is this gesture. When he speaks to HOFFMANN his expression is one of enforced equanimity, but a touch of sarcasm hovers about the corners of his mouth. His gestures, which are thoroughly natural, are lively, decisive and angular. HOFFMANN walks up and down, dressed in a silk dressing-gown and slippers. The table in the background to the right is laid for breakfast: costly porcelain, dainty rolls, a decanter with rum, etc.

HOFFMANN

Are you satisfied with my wife's appearance, doctor?

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

She's looking well enough. Why not?

HOFFMANN

And do you think that everything will pass favourably?

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

I hope so.

HOFFMANN

[After a pause, with hesitation.] Doctor, I made up my mind—weeks ago—to ask your advice in a very definite matter as soon as I came here.

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

[Who has hitherto talked and written at the same time, lays his pen aside, arises, and hands HOFFMANN the finished prescription.] Here … I suppose you'll have that filled quite soon. [Taking up his hat, cane and gloves.] Your wife complains of headaches, and so—[looking into his hat and adopting a dry, business-like tone]—and so, before I forget: try, if possible, to make it clear to your wife that she is in a measure responsible for the new life that is to come into the world. I have already said something to her of the consequences of tight lacing.

HOFFMANN

Certainly, doctor … I'll do my very best to make it clear to her that …

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

[Bowing somewhat awkwardly.] Good morning. [He is about to go but stops again.] Ah, yes, you wanted my advice …

[He regards HOFFMANN coldly.

HOFFMANN

If you can spare me a little while … [With a touch of affectation.] You know about the frightful death of my first boy. You were near enough to watch it. You know also what my state of mind was.—One doesn't believe it at first, but—time does heal!… And, after all, I have cause to be grateful now, since it seems that my dearest wish is about to be fulfilled. You understand that I must do everything, everything—it has cost me sleepless nights and yet I don't know yet, not even yet, just what I must do to guard the unborn child from the terrible fate of its little brother. And that is what I wanted to ask …

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

[Dryly and business-like.] Separation from the mother is the indispensable condition of a healthy development.

HOFFMANN

So it is that! Do you mean complete separation?… Is the child not even to be in the same house with its mother?

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

Not if you are seriously concerned for the preservation of your child. And your wealth permits you the greatest freedom of movement in this respect.

HOFFMANN

Yes, thank God. I have already bought a villa with a very large park in the neighbourhood of Hirschberg. Only I thought that my wife too …

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

[Pulls at his moustache and stares at the floor. Thoughtfully.] Why don't you buy a villa somewhere else for your wife?

[HOFFMANN shrugs his shoulders.

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

[As before.] Could you not, perhaps, engage the interest of your sister-in-law for the task of bringing up this child?

HOFFMANN

If you knew, doctor, how many obstacles … and, after all, she is a young, inexperienced girl, and a mother is a mother.

DR. SCHIMMELPFENNIG

You have my opinion. Good morning.

HOFFMANN

[Overwhelming the doctor with excessive courtesy.] Good morning. I am extremely grateful to you …

[Both withdraw through the middle door.

HELEN enters. Her handkerchief is pressed to her mouth; she is sobbing, beside herself, and lets herself fall on the sofa in the foreground to the left. After a few moments, HOFFMANN reenters, his hands full of newspapers.

HOFFMANN

Why, what is that? Tell me, sister, are things to go on this way much longer? Since I came here not a day has passed on which I haven't seen you cry.

HELEN

Oh!—what do you know? If you had any sense for such things you'd be surprised that you ever saw me when I didn't cry!

HOFFMANN

That isn't clear to me.

HELEN

Oh, but it is to me!

HOFFMANN

Look here, something must have happened!

HELEN

[Jumps up and stamps her foot.] Ugh … but I won't bear it any longer … it's got to stop! I won't endure such things any more! I don't see why … I …

[Her sobs choke her.

HOFFMANN

Won't you tell me at least what the trouble is, so that I …

HELEN

[Bursting out with renewed passion.] I don't care what happens to me! Nothing worse could. I've got a drunkard for a father, a beast—with whom his … his own daughter isn't safe.—An adulterous step-mother who wants to turn me over to her lover … And this whole life.—No, I don't see that anyone can force me to be bad in spite of myself. I'm going away! I'll run away! And if the people here won't let me go, then … rope, knife, gun … I don't care! I don't want to take to drinking brandy like my sister.

HOFFMANN

[Frightened, grasps her arm.] Nellie, keep still, I tell you; keep still about that.

HELEN

I don't care; I don't care one bit! I … I'm ashamed of it all to the very bottom of my soul. I wanted to learn something, to be something, to have a chance—and what am I now?

HOFFMANN

[Who has not released her arm, begins gradually to dram the girl over toward the sofa. The tone of his voice now takes on an excessive softness, an exaggerated, vibrant gentleness.] Nellie! Ah, I know right well that you have many things to suffer here. But be calm…! You need not tell one who knows. [He puts his right hand caressingly upon her shoulder and brings his face close to hers.] I can't bear to see you weep. Believe me—it hurts me. But don't, don't see things in a worse light than is needful—; and then: have you forgotten, that we are both—you and I—so to speak—in the same position?—I have gotten into this peasant atmosphere—do I fit into it? As little as you do yourself, surely.

HELEN

If my—dear little mother had suspected this—when she … when she directed—that I should be—educated at Herrnhut! If she had rather … rather left me at home, then at least … at least I wouldn't have known anything else, and I would have grown up in this corruption, But now …

HOFFMANN

[Has gently forced HELEN down upon the sofa and now sits, pressed close, beside her. In his consolations the sensual element betrays itself more and more strongly.] Nellie! Look at me; let those things be. Let me be your consolation, I needn't talk to you about your sister. [He embraces her more firmly. Passionately and feelingly.] Oh, if she were what you are!… But as it is … tell me: what can she be to me? Did you ever hear of a man, Nellie, of a cultured man whose wife—[he almost whispers]—is a prey to such an unhappy passion? One is afraid to utter it aloud: a woman—and—brandy … Now, do you think I am any happier?… Think of my little Freddie! Well, am I, when all's said, any better off than you are?… [With increasing passion.] And so, you see, fate has done us one kindness anyhow. It has brought us together. And we belong together. Our equal sorrows have predestined us to be friends. Isn't it so, Nellie?

[He puts his arms wholly around her. She permits it but with an expression which shows that she forces herself to mere endurance. She has grown quite silent and seems, with quivering tension of soul, to be awaiting some certainty, some consummation that is inevitably approaching.

HOFFMANN

[Tenderly.] You should consent to my plan; you should leave this house and live with us. The baby that is coming needs a mother. Come and be a mother to it; otherwise—[passionately moved and sentimentally]—it will have no mother. And then: bring a little, oh, only a very little brightness into my life! Do that! Oh, do that!

[He is about to lean his head upon her breast. She jumps up, indignant. In her expression are revealed contempt, surprise, loathing and hatred.

HELEN

Oh, but you are, you are … Now I know you thoroughly! Oh, I've felt it dimly before. But now I am certain.

HOFFMANN

[Surprised, put out of countenance.] What? Helen … you're unique—really.

HELEN

Now I know that you're not by one hair's breadth better … indeed, you're much worse—the worst of them all here!

HOFFMANN

[Arises. With assumed coldness.] D'you know, your behaviour to-day is really quite peculiar.

HELEN

[Approaches him.] You have just one end in view. [Almost whispering.] But you have very different weapons from father and from my stepmother, or from my excellent betrothed—oh, quite different. They are all lambs, all of them, compared to you. Now, now, suddenly, that has become clear as day to me.

HOFFMANN

[With hypocritical indignation.] Helen, you seem really not to be in your right mind; you're, suffering under a delusion…. [He interrupts himself and strikes his forehead.] Good Lord, of course! I see it all. You have … it's very early in the day, to be sure, but I'd wager … Helen! Have you been talking to Alfred Loth this morning?

HELEN

And why should I not have been talking to him? He is the kind of man before whom we should all be hiding in shame if things went by rights.

HOFFMANN

So I was right!… That's it … Aha … well, to be sure … then I have no further cause for surprise. So he actually used the opportunity to go for his benefactor a bit. Of course, one should really be prepared for things of that kind.

HELEN

Do you know, I think that is really caddish.

HOFFMANN

I'm inclined to think so myself.

HELEN

He didn't breathe one syllable, not one, about you.

HOFFMANN

[Slurring HELEN'S argument.] If things have reached that pass, then it is really my duty, my duty, I say, as a relative toward an inexperienced young girl like you …

HELEN

Inexperienced girl! What is the use of this pretence?

HOFFMANN

[Enraged.] Loth came into this house on my responsibility. Now I want you to know that he is, to put it mildly, an exceedingly dangerous fanatic—this Mr. Loth.

HELEN

To hear you saying that of Mr. Loth strikes me as so absurd, so laughably absurd!

HOFFMANN

And he is a fanatic, furthermore, who has the gift of muddling the heads not only of women, but even of sensible people,

HELEN

Well, now, you see, that again strikes me as so absurd. I only exchanged a few words with Mr. Loth and ever since I feel a clearness about things that does me so much good …

HOFFMANN

[In a rebukeful tone.] What I tell you is by no means absurd!

HELEN

One has to have a sense for the absurd, and that's what you haven't.

HOFFMANN

[In the same manner.] That isn't what we're discussing. I assure you once more that what I tell you is not at all absurd, but something that I must ask you to take as actually true … I have my own experience to guide me. Notions like that befog one's mind; one rants of universal brotherhood, of liberty and equality and, of course, transcends every convention and every moral law…. In those old days, for the sake of this very nonsense, we were ready to walk over the bodies of our parents to gain our ends … Heaven knows it. And he, I tell you, would be prepared, in a given case, to do the same thing to-day.

HELEN

And how many parents, do you suppose, walk year in and out over the bodies of their children without anybody's …

HOFFMANN

[Interrupting her.] That is nonsense! Why, that's the end of all…. I tell you to take care, in every … I tell you emphatically, in every respect. You won't find a trace of moral scrupulousness in that quarter.

HELEN

Oh, dear, how absurd that sounds again. I tell you, when once you begin to take notice of things like that … it's awfully interesting.

HOFFMANN

You may say what you please. I have warned you. Only I will tell you quite in confidence: at the time of that incident I very nearly got into the same damnable mess myself.

HELEN

But if he's such a dangerous man, why were you sincerely delighted yesterday when he …

HOFFMANN

Good Lord, I knew him when I was young. And how do you know that I didn't have very definite reasons for …

HELEN

Reasons? Of what kind?

HOFFMANN

Never mind.—Though, if he came; to-day, and if I knew what I do know to-day—

HELEN

What is it that you know? I've told you already that he didn't utter one word about you.

HOFFMANN

Well, you may depend on it that if that had been the case, I would have thought it all over very carefully, and would probably have taken good care not to keep him here. Loth is now and always will be a man whose acquaintance compromises you. The authorities have an eye on him.

HELEN

Why? Has he committed a crime?

HOFFMANN

The less said about it the better. Just let this assurance be sufficient for you: to go about the world to-day, entertaining his opinions, is far worse and, above all, far more dangerous than stealing.

HELEN

I will remember.—But now—listen! After all your talk about Mr. Loth, you needn't ask me any more what I think of you.—Do you hear?

HOFFMANN

[With cold cynicism.] Do you suppose that I'm so greatly concerned to know that? [He presses the electric button.] And, anyhow, I hear him coming in.

LOTH enters.

HOFFMANN

Hallo! Did you sleep well, old man?

LOTH

Well, but not long. Tell me this, though: I saw a gentleman leaving the house a while ago.

HOFFMANN

Probably the doctor. He was here a while ago. I told you about him, didn't I?—this queer mixture of hardness and sentimentality.

HELEN gives instructions to EDWARD, who has just entered. He leaves and returns shortly, serving tea and coffee.

LOTH

This mixture, as you call him, happened to resemble an old friend of my student days most remarkably. In fact, I could have taken my oath that it was a certain—Schimmelpfennig.

HOFFMANN

[Sitting down at the breakfast table.] That's quite right—Schimmelpfennig.

LOTH

Quite right? You mean?

HOFFMANN

That his name is really Schimmelpfennig.

LOTH

Who? The doctor here?

HOFFMANN

Yes, certainly, the doctor.

LOTH

Now that is really strange enough. Then of course, it's he?

HOFFMANN

Well, you see, beautiful souls find each other on sea and shore. You'll pardon me, won't you, if I begin? We were just about to sit down to breakfast. Do take a seat yourself. You haven't had breakfast anywhere else, have you?

LOTH

No.

HOFFMANN

Very well. Then sit down. [Remaining seated himself he draws out a chair for LOTH hereupon addressing EDWARD, who enters with tea and coffee.] Ah, by the way, is Mrs. Krause coming down?

EDWARD

The madame and Mrs. Spiller are taking their breakfast upstairs.

HOFFMANN

Why, that has never before …

HELEN

[Pushing the dishes to rights.] Never mind. There's a reason.

HOFFMANN

Is that so?… Loth, help yourself!… Egg? Tea?

LOTH

I wonder if I could have a glass of milk?

HOFFMANN

With all the pleasure in the world.

HELEN

Edward, tell Miele to get some fresh milk.

HOFFMANN

[Peeling an egg.] Milk—brrr! Horrible! [Helping himself to salt and pepper.] By the way, Loth, what brings you into these parts? Up to now I've forgotten to ask you.

LOTH

[Spreading butter on a roll.] I would like to study the local conditions.

HOFFMANN

[Looking up sharply.] That so?… What kind of conditions?

LOTH

To be precise: I want to study the condition of your miners.

HOFFMANN

Ah! In general that condition is a very excellent one, surely.

LOTH

Do you think so?—That would be a very pleasant fact … Before I forget, however. You can be of some service to me in the matter. You will deserve very well of political economy, if you …

HOFFMANN

I? How exactly?

LOTH

Well, you have the sole agency for the local mines?

HOFFMANN

Yes; and what of it?

LOTH

It will be very easy for you, in that case, to obtain permission for me to inspect the mines. That is to say: I would like to go down into them daily for at least a month, in order that I may gain a fairly accurate notion of the management.

HOFFMANN

[Carelessly.] And then, I suppose, you will describe what you've seen down there?

LOTH

Yes, my work is to be primarily descriptive.

HOFFMANN

I'm awfully sorry, but I've nothing to do with that side of things. So you just want to write about the miners, eh?

LOTH

That question shows how little of an economist you are.

HOFFMANN

[Whose vanity is stung.] I beg your pardon! I hope you don't think … Why? I don't see why that isn't a legitimate question?… And, anyhow: it wouldn't be surprising. One can't know everything.

LOTH

Oh, calm yourself. The matter stands simply thus: if I am to study the situation of the miners in this district, it is of course unavoidably necessary that I touch upon all the factors that condition their situation.

HOFFMANN

Writings of that kind are sometimes full of frightful exaggerations.

LOTH

That is a fault which I hope to guard against.

HOFFMANN

That will be very praiseworthy. [He has several times already cast brief and searching glances at HELEN, who hangs with naive devoutness upon LOTH'S lips. He does so again now and continues.] I say … it's just simply too queer for anything—how things will suddenly pop into a man's mind. I wonder how things like that are brought about in the brain?

LOTH

What is it that has occurred to you so suddenly?

HOFFMANN

It's about you.—I thought of your be—… No, maybe it's tactless to speak of your heart's secrets in the presence of a young lady.

HELEN

Perhaps it would be better for me to….

LOTH

Please stay. Miss Krause! By all means stay, at least as far as I'm concerned. I've seen for some time what he's aiming at. There's nothing in the least dangerous about it. [To HOFFMANN.] You're thinking of my betrothal, eh?

HOFFMANN

Since you mention it yourself, yes. I was, as a matter of fact, thinking of your betrothal to Anna Faber.

LOTH

That was broken off, naturally, when I was sent to prison.

HOFFMANN

That wasn't very nice of your….

LOTH

It was, at least, honest in her! The letter in which she broke with me showed her true face. Had she shown that before she would have spared herself and me, too, a great deal.

HOFFMANN

And since that time your affections haven't taken root anywhere?

LOTH

No.

HOFFMANN

Of course! I suppose you've capitulated along the whole line—forsworn marriage as well as drink, eh? Ah, well, À chacun son goÛt.

LOTH

It's not my taste that decides in this matter, but perhaps my fate. I told you once before, I believe, that I have made no renunciation in regard to marriage. What I fear is this, that I won't find a woman who is suitable for me,

HOFFMAN

That's a big order, Loth!

LOTH

I'm quite serious, though. It may be that one grows too critical as the years go on and possesses too little healthy instinct. And I consider instinct the best guarantee of a suitable choice.

HOFFMANN

[Frivolously.] Oh, it'll be found again some day—[laughing]—the necessary instinct, I mean.

LOTH

And, after all, what have I to offer a woman? I doubt more and more whether I ought to expect any woman to content herself with that small part of my personality which does not belong to my life's work. Then, too, I'm afraid of the cares which a family brings.

HOFFMANN

Wh-at? The cares of a married man? Haven't you a head, and arms, eh?

LOTH

Obviously. But, as I've tried to tell you, my productive power belongs, for the greater part, to my life's work and will always belong to it. Hence it is no longer mine. Then, too, there would be peculiar difficulties …

HOFFMANN

Listen! Hasn't some one been sounding a gong?

LOTH

You consider all I've said mere phrase-making?

HOFFMANN

Honestly, it does sound a little hollow. After all, other people are not necessarily savages, even if they are married. But some men act as though they had a monopoly of all the good deeds that are to be done in the world.

LOTH

[With some heat.] Not at all! I'm not thinking of such a thing. If you hadn't abandoned your life's work, your happy material situation would be of the greatest assistance …

HOFFMANN

[Ironically.] So that would be one of your demands, too?

LOTH

Demands? How? What?

HOFFMANN

I mean that, in marrying, you would have an eye on money.

LOTH

Unquestionably.

HOFFMANN

And then—if I know you at all—there's quite a list of demands still to come.

LOTH

So there is. The woman, for instance, must have physical and mental health. That's a conditio sine qua non.

HOFFMANN

[Laughing.] Better and better! I suppose then that a previous medical examination of the lady would be necessary.

LOTH

[Quite seriously.] You must remember that I make demands upon myself too.

HOFFMANN

[More and more amused.] I know, I know! I remember your going through all the literature of love once in order to determine quite conscientiously whether that which you felt at that time for a certain lady was really the tender passion. So, let's hear a few more of your demands.

LOTH

My wife, for instance, would have to practice renunciation.

HELEN

If … if … Ah, I don't know whether it's right to … but I merely wanted to say that women, as a rule, are accustomed to renounce.

LOTH

For heaven's sake! You understand me quite wrongly. I did not mean renunciation in the vulgar sense. I would demand renunciation only in so far, or, rather, I would simply ask my wife to resign voluntarily and gladly that part of myself which belongs to my chosen work. No, no, in regard to every thing else, it is my wife who is to make demands—to demand all that her sex has forfeited in the course of thousands of years.

HOFFMANN

Oho, oho! Emancipation of woman! Really, that sudden turn was admirable—now you are in the right channel. Fred Loth, or the agitator in a vest-pocket edition. How would you formulate your demands in this respect, or rather: to what degree would yam wife have to be emancipated?—It really amuses me to hear you talk! Would she have to smoke cigars? Wear breeches?

LOTH

Hardly that. I would want her, to be sure, to have risen above certain social conventions. I should not want her, for instance, to hesitate, if she felt genuine love for me, to be the first to make the avowal.

HOFFMANN

[Has finished his breakfast. He jumps up in half-humorous, half-serious indignation.] Do you know? That … that is a really shameless demand. And I prophesy, too, that you'll go about with it unfulfilled to your very end—unless you prefer to drop it first.

HELEN

[Mastering her deep emotion with difficulty.] If you gentlemen will excuse me now—the household … You know [to HOFFMANN] that mama is upstairs and so …

HOFFMANN

Don't let us keep you.

HELEN bows and withdraws.

HOFFMANN

[Holding a match case in his hand and walking over to the cigar-box which stands on the table.] There's no doubt … you do get a man excited … it's almost uncanny. [He takes a cigar from the box and sits down on the sofa in the foreground, left. He cuts off the end of his cigar, and, during what follows, he holds the cigar in his left, the severed end between the fingers of his right hand.] In spite of all that … it does amuse me. And then, you don't know how good it feels to pass a few days in the country this way, away from all business matters. If only to-day this confounded … how late is it anyhow? Unfortunately I have to go into town to a dinner to-day. It couldn't be helped: I had to give this banquet. What are you going to do as a business man? Tit for tat. The mine officials are used to that sort of thing.—Well, I've got time enough to smoke another cigar—quite in peace, too.

[He carries the cigar end to a cuspidor, sits down on the sofa again and lights his cigar.]

LOTH

[Stands at the table and turns the leaves of a deluxe volume.] "The Adventures of Count Sandor."

HOFFMANN

You'll find that trash among all the farmers in the neighbourhood.

LOTH

[Still turning the leaves.] How old is your sister-in-law?

HOFFMANN

She was twenty-one last August.

LOTH

Is she in delicate health?

HOFFMANN

Don't know. I hardly think so, though. Does she make that impression on you?

LOTH

She really looks rather worried than ill.

HOFFMANN

Well, if you consider all the miseries with her step-mother …

LOTH

She seems to be rather excitable, too.

HOFFMANN

In such an environment … I should like to see any one who wouldn't become excitable.

LOTH

She seems to possess a good deal of energy.

HOFFMANN

Stubbornness.

LOTH

Deep feeling, too?

HOFFMANN

Too much at times …

LOTH

But if the conditions here are so unfortunate for her, why doesn't your sister-in-law live with your family?

HOFFMANN

You'd better ask her that! I've often enough made her the offer. Women have these fancies, that's all. [Holding the cigar in his mouth, HOFFMANN takes out a note-book and adds a fete items.] You'll forgive me, won't you, if I have to leave you alone after a while?

LOTH

Assuredly.

HOFFMANN

How long do you think of stay—

LOTH

I mean to look for a lodging very soon. Where does Schimmelpfennig live?
The best thing would be to go to see him. He would probably be able to
secure one for me. I hope that I'll soon find a suitable place, otherwise
I'll spend the night at the inn next door.

HOFFMANN

Why should you? Of course you'll stay with us till morning, at least. To be sure, I'm only a guest in this house myself, otherwise I'd naturally ask you to … you understand?

LOTH

Perfectly.

HOFFMANN

But do tell me, were you really quite serious when you said …

LOTH

That I would spend the night at an inn…?

HOFFMANN

Nonsense … Of course not!… I mean what you mentioned a while ago—that business about your ridiculous descriptive essay?

LOTH

Why not?

HOFFMANN

I must confess that I thought you were jesting. [He gets up and speaks confidentially and half-humorously.] Now, you don't mean to say you're really capable of undermining the ground here where a friend of yours has been fortunate enough to get a firm foothold?

LOTH

You may take my word for it, Hoffmann; I had no idea that you were here.
If I had known that …

HOFFMANN

[Jumps up, delighted.] Very well, then; very well. If that's the way things are. And I assure you I'm more than glad that I was not mistaken in you. So now you do know that I am here. It goes without saying that I'll make up to you all your travelling expenses and all extras. No, you needn't be so excessively delicate. It's simply my duty as a friend … Now I recognise my excellent old friend again. But I tell you: for a time I had very serious suspicions of you … Now you ought to know this, however. Frankly, I'm not as bad as I sometimes pretend to be, not by any means. I have always honoured you, you and your sincere, single-minded efforts. And I'm the last man to fail to attach weight to certain demands of the exploited, oppressed masses, demands which are, most unfortunately, only too well justified.—Oh, you may smile. I'll go further and confess that there is just one party in parliament that has any true ideals, and that's the party to which you belong! Only—as I said before—we must go slowly, slowly!—not try to rush things through. Everything is coming, surely coming about exactly as it ought to. Only patience! Patience …

LOTH

One must have patience. That is certain. But one isn't justified on that account in folding one's hands in idleness.

HOFFMANN

Exactly my opinion.—As a matter of fact my thoughts have oftener been in accord with you than my words. It's a bad habit of mine, I admit, I fell into it in intercourse with people to whom I didn't always want to show my hand…. Take the question, of woman, for instance … You expressed a good many things quite strikingly. [He has, in the meantime, approached the telephone, taken up the receiver and now speaks alternately into the telephone and to LOTH.] My little sister-in-law, by the way, was all ear … [Into the telephone.] Frank! I want the carriage in ten minutes … [To LOTH.] You made an impression on her … [Into the telephone.] What—oh, nonsense!—well, that beats everything … Then hitch up the black horses at once … [To LOTH.] And why shouldn't you?… [Into the telephone.] Well, upon my…! To the milliner, you say? The madame? The ma—! Well, very well, then. But at once! Oh, very well! Yes! What's the—! [He presses the button of the servants' bell. To LOTH.] You just wait. Give me a chance to heap up the necessary mountain of shekels, and maybe you'll see something happen … [EDWARD has entered.] Edward, my leggings, my walking-coat! [EDWARD withdraws.] Maybe something will happen then that you fellows wouldn't believe of me now … If, at the end of two or three days—you must stay with us so long by all means—I'd consider it a real insult if you didn't—[he slips out of his dressing-gown]—if, at the end of two or three days, you're ready to go. I'll drive you over to the train.

EDWARD enters carrying gaiters and walking-coat.

HOFFMANN

[Permitting himself to be helped on with the coat.] So-o! [Sitting down on a chair.] Now the boots. [After he has pulled on one of them.] There's number one!

LOTH

Perhaps you didn't quite understand me after all.

HOFFMANN

Surely, that's quite possible. A fellow gets out of touch with things.
Nothing but musty business affairs. Edward, hasn't the mail come yet?
Wait a minute!—Do go up into my room. You'll find a document in a blue
cover on the left side of my desk. Get that and put it into the carriage.

EDWARD goes through the door at the right, reappears through the middle-door and then withdraws.

LOTH

I simply meant that you hadn't understood me in one particular respect.

HOFFMANN

[Worrying his foot into the other shoe.] Ouch! There! [He rises and stamps his feet.] There we are. Nothing is more disagreeable than tight shoes … What were you saying just now?

LOTH

You were speaking of my departure …

HOFFMANN

Well?

LOTH

But I thought I had explained that I must stay here for a specific purpose.

HOFFMANN

[In extreme consternation and thoroughly indignant at once.] Look here!… That comes near being caddish!—Don't you know what you owe me as your friend?

LOTH

Not, I hope, the betrayal of my cause!

HOFFMANN

[Beside himself.] Well then—in that case—I haven't the slightest motive for treating you as a friend. And so I tell you that I consider your appearance and demeanour here—to put it mildly—incredibly impudent.

LOTH

[Quite calmly.] Perhaps you'll explain what gives you the right to use such epithets …

HOFFMANN

Yon want an explanation of that? That is going to an extreme! Not to feel a thing like that it's necessary to have a rhinoceros-hide instead of skin on one's back! You come here, enjoy my hospitality, thresh out a few of your thread-bare phrases, turn my sister-in-law's head, go on about old friendship and other pleasant things, and then you tell me quite coolly: you're going to write a descriptive pamphlet about the local conditions. Why, what do you take me to be, anyhow? D'you suppose I don't know that these so-called essays are merely shameless libels?… You want to write a denunciation like that, and about our coal district, of all places! Are you so blind that you can't see whom such a rag would harm most keenly? Only me, of course! I tell you, the trade that you demagogues drive ought to be more firmly stamped out than has been done up to now! What is it you do? You make the miners discontented, presumptuous; you stir them up, embitter them, make them rebellious, disobedient, wretched! Then you delude them with promises of mountains of gold, and, in the meantime, grab out of their pockets the few pennies that keep them from starving!

LOTH

Do you consider yourself unmasked now?

HOFFMANN

[Brutally.] Oh, pshaw! You ridiculous, pompous wind-bag! What do you suppose I care about being unmasked by you?—Go to work! Leave off this silly drivelling!—Do something! Get ahead! I don't need to sponge on any one for two-hundred marks!

[He rushes out through the middle door.

For several moments LOTH looks calmly after him. Then, no less calmly, he draws a card case out of his inner pocket, takes a slip of paper therefrom—HOFFMANN'S cheque—and tears it through several times. Then he drops the scraps slowly into the coal-bin. Hereupon he takes his hat and cane and turns to go. At this moment HELEN appears on the threshold of the conservatory.

HELEN

[Softly.] Mr. Loth!

LOTH

[Quivers and turns.] Ah, it is you.—Well, then I can at least say farewell to you.

HELEN

[In spite of herself.] Did you feel the need of doing that?

LOTH

Yes! I did feel it, indeed. Probably, if you were in there, you heard what has taken place here, and—in that case….

HELEN

I heard everything.

LOTH

In that case it won't astonish you to see me this house with so little ceremony.

HELEN

No-o! I do understand—! But I should like you to feel less harshly toward my brother-in-law. He always repents very quickly. I have often….

LOTH

Quite possibly. But for that very reason what he has said just now probably expresses his true opinion of me.—In fact, it is undoubtedly his real opinion.

HELEN

Do you seriously believe that?

LOTH

Oh, yes, quite seriously. And so…. [He walks toward her and takes her hand.] I hope that life will be kind to you. [He turns but at once stops again.] I don't know…! or rather:—[he looks calmly and directly into HELEN'S face]—I do know, I know—at this moment the knowledge becomes clear—that it is not so easy for me to go away from here … and … yes … and … well, yes…!

HELEN

But if I begged you—begged you truly—from my heart … to stay a little longer—

LOTH

So you do not share Hoffmann's opinion?

HELEN

No!—and that—that is just what I wanted to be sure—quite sure to tell you, before … before—you—went.

LOTH

[Grasps her hand once more.] It helps me much to hear you say that.

HELEN

[Struggling with herself. Her excitement mounts rapidly and to the point of unconsciousness. She stammers out half-chokingly.] And more, oh, more I wanted to … to tell you … that I esteem and … and … honour you as … I've done no … man before … that I trust … you … that I'm ready to … to prove that … that I feel toward you …

[She sinks, swooning into his arms.

LOTH

Helen!

THE CURTAIN DROPS QUICKLY