Chapter XI: Part 11

LOUISE. Yes.

VENNEMA. Through gambling?

LOUISE. Yes.

VENNEMA. Good God! Gambling, too? And to-night you must pay all that money.

SOPHIE [_entering excitedly with a small bunch of flowers_]. Madam, Madam.

LOUISE [_looks up slowly and sees the flowers_]. What is it?

SOPHIE. These are the compliments of Mr. De Brandeis.

LOUISE. Mr. De Brandeis?

SOPHIE. The gentleman is waiting below in a carriage.

VENNEMA. Tell that gentleman to go away.

LOUISE. It was too beautiful, too good to be true. Now it will never be.

VENNEMA. Why not? I shall give you the money.

LOUISE. Father, I tell you it can never be.

VENNEMA. What do you mean? What are you going to do, Louise?

LOUISE. Father, I can't go back home with you. [_To Sophie._] Take the flowers and tell Mr. De Brandeis that--that--

[_Vennema sinks into a chair. Sophie stands at the door with the
flowers. Van der Elst stands listening anxiously._]

LOUISE [_with a sob in her throat_]. Tell him, that I am going to stand by him.

[_She stands looking at the door, twitching her handkerchief
nervously._]

[_Curtain._]

THE GRANDMOTHER

A PLAY
BY LAJOS BIRO

Authorized Translation by Charles Recht.
Copyright, 1920, by Charles Recht.
All rights reserved.

CHARACTERS

THE GRANDMOTHER.
HER GRANDCHILDREN:
THE BLOND YOUNG LADY.
THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY.
THE BRIDE.
THE VIVACIOUS GIRL.
THE MELANCHOLY GIRL.
THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL.
THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN.
THE POLITE YOUNG MAN.
THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN.

All rights reserved by Charles Recht and John Biro, 47 West 42nd
Street, New York. Applications for permission to produce THE
GRANDMOTHER must be made to Mr. Charles Recht.

THE GRANDMOTHER

A PLAY BY LAJOS BIRO

[_There is only this notable thing to be said about
Grandmother--her hair is snow white, her cheeks rosy and her eyes
violet blue. She is the most youthful and enthusiastic, best and
most cordial grandmother ever beloved by her grandchildren._

_The scene opens on a broad, sunny terrace furnished with garden
furniture, chairs, small tables and chaises longues. Back of the
terrace is the beautiful summer residence of Grandpa. Behind it is
a large English garden in its lenten blossoms. The Disagreeable
Young Man enters; yawns; stretches discontentedly; slouches here
and there; picks up a volume from the table, then falls into a
couch at right and, lighting a cigarette, begins to read. The
other grandchildren enter in groups of two and three and seat
themselves._]

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. My word, children, I am too full for utterance. What a spread! Now for a good cigar and a soft chair and I am as rich as a king.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. We are having such charming weather. Is not this park like a paradise?

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. How did you like the after-dinner speeches?

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. Uncle Heinrich was splendid. [_There is great laughter._]

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Uncle Heinrich was never strong in speechmaking, but in the beginning even Demosthenes stuttered.

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. The trouble is that Uncle Heinrich stopped where Demosthenes began. Besides a manufacturer has no time to parade on the sea shore with pebbles under his tongue.

[_There is more laughter._]

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Children, who wants a cigarette?

THE BLOND AND BRUNETTE YOUNG LADIES. I!

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN [_handing them cigarettes and lighting a match for them. He speaks to the Bride_]. Aren't you going to smoke?

BRIDE. No, I thank you.

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. Lord, no! She must not! The noble bride must not permit tobacco smoke to contaminate her rosy lips. [_They all laugh._]

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. May I have a cigarette, too?

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. You be careful or the same misfortune may happen to you at any minute that happened to Lucy [_pointing to the Bride, he hands the Vivacious Girl a cigarette._]

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. If my bridegroom shall object to tobacco smoke, he can pack his things and--off.

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. Well, young people, what are we going to do next?

THE MELANCHOLY YOUNG LADY. Let's remain here. The park looks so beautiful.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. Oh, I object. We'll remain here until the sun goes down a little and then we'll play tennis. [_They agree._]

THE MELANCHOLY YOUNG LADY. Can't we remain here? Let us enjoy the spring in the garden.

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. Let's play tennis. A little exercise is the best cure for romance. And you can enjoy your spring out there as well--you dreamer. [_They laugh._]

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. You are as loud as the besiegers of Jericho in your planning.

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. Behold! He speaketh. [_They laugh._]

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. You are so overbearing in your jollifications that it is positively disgusting. For the past hour you have been giggling away without the slightest reason. You have so much leisure you do not know what to do with yourselves.

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. Curt, must you always be the killjoy in a party!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. If you would at least take yourselves off from here.

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. But admit that to-day there is reason enough for every kind of jollity.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Is there, indeed? You have finished a costly banquet and now are enjoying a good digestion. You are young and have a healthy animal appetite; but why deck sentimentalism on your horns?

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Your pardon! Do you suppose that all a person gets out of this remarkable occasion is a good dinner? Have you no appreciation? Do you realize what this day means to all of us?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Very well, my boy. Now tell me why you are so over-filled with joy?

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Yes, I will. I am glad that I can celebrate the golden wedding of my grandfather. I am glad that just thirty years ago to-day grandfather founded his factory. I am glad because of our large and happy family and that so many lovely and good and happy people have come here to celebrate this remarkable event; all of them good and prosperous.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Prosperous!

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Yes, I rejoice at their prosperity.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. The laborers down there in the foundry, however, are not as over-joyed at this prosperity as you are. For this prosperity of yours they have been starving these past thirty years.

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Grandfather was always good to his employees.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Indeed! Our grandfather has managed by hook or by crook to amass an enormous fortune and you are glad that his fortune is now made and you do not have to resort to questionable means.

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN [_hurt_]. Questionable means? You do not intend to assert that our grandpapa....

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. I assert nothing. But mark you this. There is only one honest way to gain a large fortune: inheriting it. You cannot earn it without resorting to questionable means.

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Shame! to say a thing like that!

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. Shame to say that of grandfather.

[_All of them are upset and disturbed. Grandmother appears on the
balcony._]

GRANDMOTHER. Why, children, what is it? What's wrong?

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Why, grandma, just think of it! Curt said that grandpa made his fortune by questionable means.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. I did not say exactly that--

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Yes, you did.

THE OTHERS [_chiming in_]. You said that. Yes, you said that.

GRANDMOTHER [_as energetically as possible for her_]. I think you are in error, Curt. In the entire fortune of your grandpa there is not a single copper that was not earned by him in the most honest way.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. But look, grandma,--what I said was--generally in those cases no one--

GRANDMOTHER [_hurt_]. When I tell you this, boy, it _is so_. When I tell you anything, my child, you should never doubt it.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Yes, grandma, you are quite right. But I maintain that human learning and experience have proved--

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Why don't you stop? Do you perhaps want to insult grandma? You are taking too great an advantage of our good nature--I'll tell you that!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. If you folks had any sense--

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Don't you know enough....

THE OTHER GRANDCHILDREN. ... to shut up. [_Attacks him._] Indeed. He's right. Stop--shut up!

[_The Disagreeable Young Man, in spite of this scene, wants to
continue, but the protests of the others drown his voice. He casts
a contemptuous look at them, shrugs his shoulders, throws himself
on the sofa and begins to read._]

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Now don't trouble yourself about him any longer, grandma dear. Here, rest yourself nicely in this chair among us.

THE JOVIAL YOUNG MAN. There, grandma! The old folks are there at table. We young people are here in the fresh air. We lacked only the youngest one of us all. And here you are.

[_There is a glad assent as the Grandmother sits down._]

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. Are you quite comfortable, grandma dear? Would you like something to rest your feet on?

GRANDMOTHER. Thanks, my child, I am quite all right, and I am very happy.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. Yes, grandma, you ought to feel happy.

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. How young you look, and how lovely and rosy!

THE BRIDE. Grandma?

GRANDMOTHER. What is it, my angel?

THE BRIDE. Tell me, how does a woman manage so that she is admired by her husband for full fifty years, as you are by grandfather?

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. Yes, how did you manage that?

GRANDMOTHER. You will all be loved and admired after fifty years as I have been. A person must be good. We must love each other.

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. But, grandmother, is it not wonderful at seventy and seventy-five to love so beautifully and purely as you and grandfather have loved?

GRANDMOTHER. You must always be good and patient with each other, and brave. Never lose courage.

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. But look, grandma, not even I could be as brave as you have been. And no one can ever say that I lose courage. [_They all laugh._] I still shudder when I think how in those days in March of Forty-eight you had to run away! Or in the Sixties when the city was bombarded, you with my mamma and Aunt Olga escaped from the burning house....

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. How interesting that was! Tell us another story, grandma. [_There is loud assent._] Yes, yes, grandma shall tell us another story!

GRANDMOTHER. But I have already told you so much. You heard all our history.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Not I, grandma; I have not heard the story of when you got lost in the _Friedrichsrode_ forest.

GRANDMOTHER. That story I have told you so often, children. Ask your mother about it; she'll tell you.

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. But, grandma, I haven't heard it, either. Just tell us that one and we'll go to play tennis.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. If you'll pardon me, grandma, I believe you ought to tell us a different incident to-day. I've heard that history so often. Tell us something contemporaneous. Tell us about the first sewing machine, or the first railroad, or about crinolines or contemporary theater or art.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. No. Tell us about the woods.

THE OTHERS. Yes, yes, that's right,--the story of how you got lost.

[_The Disagreeable Young Man shrugs his shoulder and buries his
head in his book. Grandmother begins to narrate, and the circle of
her admiring and attentive audience grows narrower._]

GRANDMOTHER. Well, my children, it happened in the year eighteen hundred and forty, a year after grandfather was almost shot by error. In those days the happenings took us quite far away from here to _Friedrichsrode_, my dears, where you have never been. Your grandfather had a small estate there, and that's how we made our livelihood. We always wished and prayed to get the management of the large estate of the Count of Schwanhausen. But we lived there humbly in the little house.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. Was my mamma home then?

GRANDMOTHER. No, she was not in this world yet. But a year later she was born. So your grandfather and I lived then in this little red-roofed house. Your grandfather used to be busy with the land the entire day. Those days I was taking on weight, and to reduce I would take long walks through the country. One day in October--in the afternoon--it was beautiful sunny autumn weather--as usual I went again on my long walk. The country there is very beautiful--all hills--covered with dense forests. This afternoon my way led into the famous forest of _Friedrichsrode_. When there I kept on walking--here and there I would stop to pick a flower.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. Don't forget, grandma, that it was quite late when you left your house.

GRANDMOTHER. You are correct, my dear. After our dinner I had some things to attend to in the house and that is why I started that day later than usual. I was walking through the forest, going in deeper and deeper and suddenly I began to realize that it was getting dark. It was in the autumn and the days were getting short. When I saw how dark it was I turned homeward. But in the meanwhile evening came sooner than I counted, and suddenly it got dark altogether. Now, thought I, I must hustle. I hurried, as well as I could, but as much as I hurried I did not get home. Had I gone home the right way I would have reached it then, and so it dawned on me that I had lost my way.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Great Heavens....

GRANDMOTHER. Indeed, my child, I was really lost in the woods and in the _Friedrichsrode_ forest, besides. What that meant you cannot now realize. Since that time these woods have been considerably cleared. Then also we live in a different world to-day. But in those days _Friedrichsrode_ forest was a very, very dismal place. It spread away into the outskirts of the Harz Mountains and was a wild, primaeval, godforsaken forest where highway robbers were hiding. And in the winter it was full of the wolves from the mountains.

[_There is a short pause._]

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. And what did you do, grandmother?

GRANDMOTHER. Really, my child, a great anxiety came upon me. I stood still and tried to fix my direction. Then I turned to a path which I figured ought to lead me home. After I walked a half hour, however, I found that the forest instead of getting lighter was getting thicker and thicker. Three or four times I changed the direction, but no matter what I did I was walking deeper and deeper into the dark woods. Although the moon was shining then, the branches of the trees were so thick that I could see but little. And that which I saw only frightened me all the more. Every tree stump, every overhanging bough excited my fear. My feet were continuously caught in the roots of big trees and the undergrowth tore my bleeding face and feet; and it was getting cold. I felt frozen. And dismally quiet, terribly dark was the night in the forest.

[_There is a pause and suspense._]

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Good heavens, how perfectly terrible!

GRANDMOTHER. Then I collected all my wits. I said to myself, if I keep on walking I will lose my way all the more. I ought to remain where I am and wait. When grandfather arrives at home and misses me he will start a search with all the help and people. They will go into the woods with torchlights--and then I will see the lights from the distance and hear them call--and in that way I can get home.

THE MELANCHOLY GIRL. How clever of our grandma!

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. And how brave!

GRANDMOTHER. After I figured it out that way I looked about for a sheltered nook. In between two great big tree trunks there was a cave, like a little house, a place all filled with soft moss. A pleasant camping place. I fell into this and prepared myself for a long wait. I waited and waited. The night peopled the woods with every kind of sound. There was whistling, whispering, humming, blowing, screeching and once from a distance a long-drawn deep howling. This, undoubtedly, was the wolves.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL [_frightened_]. Merciful God!

GRANDMOTHER. Then even I lost my courage. I wanted to run, run as long as my legs would carry me. But I realized that the wiser thing was to be brave and to remain. So I set my teeth and kept on waiting. And then gradually the howling ceased. So, I sat there on this moss bank gazing before me and thought of many things. Suddenly I heard a noise. I straightened up and listened. It was a breaking sound and a rustle as though some one were brushing aside the underbrush.... The noise was getting nearer and nearer.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Oh!

GRANDMOTHER. I was all ears. I could clearly distinguish now that the sound was the footstep of a human being. Frightened, I started through the darkness and in the dull moonlight I saw that actually a man was wading through the thick underbrush. What was I to do? I pressed against the tree trunk and my fast and loud-beating heart seemed to be in my throat. The man was coming directly toward me. When he was about three paces away from me and I could distinguish his features, I felt like fainting. It was "Red Mike," a very dangerous fellow from our neighborhood; every one knew that he was a robber. Later on he was imprisoned for murder, but he escaped from the prison. Now he was there.... What should I do?

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL [_breathlessly_]. What did you do, grandma?

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. Great heavens!

GRANDMOTHER. Frenzied, I pressed against the tree trunk. I wanted to hide, but the robber came directly toward me. It was as though he could see me even in this darkness and behind the tree trunk. Later on when he was caught, I found out, that he had prepared this very place for his night's resting place. He had brought all this soft moss there. Of course, I did not know that he just came there to rest himself. All I saw was that he was making directly for me. Then such a great fear seized me that instead of pressing against the tree and letting him go past me I shrieked just as he came within reaching distance and began to run away.

[_There is a pause and feverish suspense._]

THE MELANCHOLY YOUNG LADY. And what did the robber do?

GRANDMOTHER. My sudden outcry and quick dash and flight scared him for the moment, but as soon as I appeared in the moonlight, he saw that it was only a woman who had frightened him. He hesitated about a half a minute and then started to pursue me. I flew. I was young then and I could run fast. But it was dark and I did not know my way. As I pressed forward I ran into a low branch and tore my cheek so that it bled. My skirt was torn into shreds. Suddenly I stumbled and fell to the ground. I hurt myself quite painfully, but in spite of that I rose quickly again and commenced to run. And the robber after me all the time. I could always hear his footsteps in my wake. My legs were about to give up under me when I got an idea to hide behind a stout tree trunk. But the robber began to look through the underbrush in the spot where he last saw me and he finally found me. He came near me.

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. How terrible!

GRANDMOTHER. With one single leap I jumped aside and started to run again. Once more I fell down and again I rose. Aimlessly I ran wildly over roots and stones and the robber kept right on after me.... And the distance between me and my pursuer was getting smaller and smaller. Then all of a sudden I heard the sound of his footsteps close to me--to escape him I tried to dash away to the side of him but with a sudden leap he was by my side. Grabbing me by my shoulder he threw me on the ground and I fell upon my back. He had run so fast that he dashed a couple of paces past me. He turned about.... And then I saw that he had a long knife in his hand.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL [_horrified_]. Merciful heaven!

GRANDMOTHER. I could not budge.... And unspeakable fear seized me.... Then I uttered a piercing shriek.... The robber approached me.... I cried out....

[_There is a pause._]

THE MELANCHOLY GIRL. Then, then--

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. Well, what then? What?

GRANDMOTHER. I cried out like an insane person.... Now the robber was near me.... He bent over me.... Suddenly a voice sounded,--"_who is crying here?_" the voice seemed to be near--the footsteps were audible--"who's crying here?" it asked the second time.... The branches parted and a man in a hunting habit with a gun in his hand appeared. The robber took to his heels and flew into the woods. The hunter now came near me and called to a second man who followed. They helped me to rise and they carried me over to a small clearing. There I saw a light buggy into which they lifted me. Soon they fetched the horses and in a half hour I was in the Schwanhausen castle sipping hot brandy which they had prepared for me. The man in the hunting habit was the Count of Schwanhausen, who had been hunting in the woods.

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL. How interesting!

GRANDMOTHER. In the castle I quite recovered. Then the Count ordered another carriage to drive me home and at six in the morning I landed safely in our house. Your grandpa was sick with worry.... He and his people had searched for me in the woods for hours. And that's how I was almost lost. A few days later grandpa went to thank the Count for my rescue. The Count took a liking to him.

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. That was the old Count?

GRANDMOTHER. Yes, it was the old Count. The benefactor of all of us. Grandfather thanked him courteously for my rescue. The Count took a liking to him and soon after that grandfather got the management of the entire Schwanhausen estate, which proved the cornerstone of his good fortune. And that, my dears, is the story of my night wander in the forest of _Friedrichsrode_.

[_Amid general approval, Grandma is surrounded. Everybody is
indebted to her. They all speak at once, except the The
Disagreeable Young Man._]

"We thank you cordially."

"It was wonderful, grandma, dear."

"Interesting."

"Beautiful."

THE VIVACIOUS GIRL. Grandma is a story-telling genius!

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. A most wonderful one!

GRANDMOTHER. Very well, my dears, but now run along to your tennis game. I'll come over later to watch on. [_They all agree._]

THE POLITE YOUNG MAN. Three cheers for our very dear beloved charming grandma.

[_They all cheer three times, then they surround her, kiss her
cheeks and head and stroke her hair._]

THE BLOND YOUNG LADY. _Adieu_--old sweetheart.

THE BRUNETTE YOUNG LADY. _Auf wiedersehen_--precious grandma!

THE SENTIMENTAL HIGH SCHOOL GIRL [_inspired_]. Grandma...! [_She rushes over to her and covers her with kisses._]

[_Grandma bears all these amiabilities with pleasurable tolerance.
She strokes and pats the grandchildren and as they retire, she
fondly gazes after them, nodding to them with laughter._]

GRANDMOTHER. Curt--are not you going with the others?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. No.

GRANDMOTHER. Why not, Curt? Why don't you follow the others?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. They think that I am bad, and I know that they are stupid.

[_Grandmother seats herself in silence. The Disagreeable Young Man
continues to read. He lights a new cigarette. While lighting the
cigarette--_]

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Grandma!

GRANDMOTHER. What is it, my child?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Whatever you say might, of course, never be questioned....

GRANDMOTHER. No, my child.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. But do tell me, grandma, did that story really happen in that way?

GRANDMOTHER. What story?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. The night wander through the _Friedrichsrode_ forest.

GRANDMOTHER. Certainly it happened.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Exactly as you told it? Are you quite sure that you remember all those details.

GRANDMOTHER. Yes. Why?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Oh, just so. I merely wanted to inquire, grandma.

GRANDMOTHER. But why did you want to?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. I was just interested. Thank you very much. Do not let me disturb you further, grandma.

[_He takes up his book and continues to read. The Grandmother
remains seated, but is greatly embarrassed. She would like to keep
on gazing into the park and enjoying her quiet, but she is unable
to concentrate her thoughts. She is getting more and more
disturbed. There is a pause._]

GRANDMOTHER. Curt!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Yes--grandma, dear.

GRANDMOTHER. Curt, why have you asked me if the forest incident happened that way?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. I merely wanted to find out, grandma.

GRANDMOTHER. You just wanted to find out. But one does not ask such things without some good reason.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. I was interested.

GRANDMOTHER. Interested, but why are you interested?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Just in general. But do not get disturbed on account of that, grandma.

[_The Grandmother is silent._]

[_The Disagreeable Young Man picks up his book. The Grandmother
wants to drop the subject at this point. She does not succeed, but
continues to look over toward the young man. He reads on._]

GRANDMOTHER. Curt!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Yes, grandma, dear.

GRANDMOTHER. Curt, you shall tell me this instant the reason you asked if the incident really happened that way!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. But, grandma ... I have already told you that....

GRANDMOTHER. Don't you tell me again that you asked because the matter interested you. You would have never asked such a question if you did not have some special reason for it.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. But, grandma--

GRANDMOTHER. Curt, if you do not this moment tell me why you said that, then I will never--[_her voice becomes unusually strong and shakes_] I never in my life will speak to you again.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. But, grandma, I do not want to insult you.

GRANDMOTHER. You will not insult me if you will be sincere and open. Be sincere always.... And you will not insult me. But when your trying to hide something from me, that's when you insult me. This _cannot_ remain in this way. I must know what you are thinking of. I must know that.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Grandma, I was afraid you would be angry with me.

GRANDMOTHER. If you keep on concealing things I shall be angry. No matter what you have to say I will not hold it against you.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Are you not angry now?

GRANDMOTHER. No. I promise you I will not be angry. Say whatever you please.

[_The Disagreeable Young Man hesitates._]

GRANDMOTHER. Well, then--out with it--speak up, my child--be it what it may as long as it is frank and sincere. Speak up, now. Come!

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Very well then, grandma. It is impossible that the story could happen in that manner.

GRANDMOTHER [_offended_]. You mean that I told an untruth?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Oh, no. I did not say that the incident did not happen. I just maintain that it could not have happened in that fashion.

GRANDMOTHER. But why not?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. On account of the details. Let us take it for granted, grandma, that as you state you commenced your exercise walk in the afternoon....

GRANDMOTHER. Yes.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Let's say that you had household duties and started out quite late--about four o'clock.

GRANDMOTHER [_disturbed, but following the cross-examination intently_]. Yes.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Very well, you started at four o'clock. The walk was a good one and consumed--let us say one hour and a half.

GRANDMOTHER. Yes.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Yes? This brings us to half-past five o'clock. In October and in a dense forest besides at half-past five it gets fairly dark at that hour. It was then that you lost your way?

THE GRANDMOTHER [_nods her head in assent_].

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Another hour and a half spent in wandering--that brings us to seven o'clock. You now reached the night lodging of the robber--here you were resting?

GRANDMOTHER. Exactly.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Quite right. Here you were waiting and resting--now we want to allow a long time for it--three--let us say--three and a half hours.

GRANDMOTHER [_involuntarily_]. Not that long....

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Oh, yes ... let us ... we'll then have reached half-past ten o'clock. It could not have been later when this forest bandit came. These pirates never go to their bed earlier. They shun light and must get their sleep while the world is the darkest. He could not sleep during the day even in the darkest forests. In short, then, it was half-past ten?

GRANDMOTHER. Half-past ten.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. Now began the flight and the pursuit. You ran--let us say--full twenty minutes. That is a great deal. I was a track runner in college and I know what a twenty-minute stretch means. Shall we say twenty minutes?

GRANDMOTHER. Twenty minutes....

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. In any circumstances it was not even eleven when you were safely out of danger?

GRANDMOTHER. Yes.

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. And--and a half hour later you were sipping hot brandy in the Schwanhausen castle?

GRANDMOTHER. Yes.

[_The Disagreeable Young Man is silent._]

GRANDMOTHER [_shaking with excitement_]. And--what else?

[_The Disagreeable Young Man is silent._]

GRANDMOTHER [_she shakes with fear as to what will follow, but forces herself to face it_]. Well, say on ... what else?...

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. At six on the following morning you reached your home and.... [_He pauses._]

GRANDMOTHER [_if her loud-speaking could be called an outcry, then she cries out_]. Yes ... what else?... What happened then?... Go on ... say it ... what else?

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN. [_He makes a new attempt to tell everything bravely at once, but hesitates._] In the morning at six you arrived at home. The others had no idea as to the distance between _Schwanhausen_ and _Friederichsrode_. But I wanted to see it myself, so last year with a friend I made a walking trip through that country. I tried this distance. In a half hour of slow walking I reached from one place to the other, and the horses in the Count's stables and the state roads were then in as good condition as to-day. Well, then you started from the castle at half-past five in the morning; but you reached there at half-past eleven the preceding night.... You spent six entire hours in the castle.... Then, another point--they all speak of the count, the "benefactor of us all," as the "old count."... When he died five years ago he was, of course, an old count--an old man of seventy.... But thirty-five years ago he was a young count of thirty years of age.

[_The Grandmother stares blindly at The Disagreeable Young Man.
Alarmed over Grandma's fright, he rises. He would very much like
to make up to her, but he lacks words. The Grandmother rises. She
is trembling. With a shaking hand she is nervously setting her
dress to rights. Twice she turns to the young man to speak to him,
but is unable to utter a word. Then she turns; she is about to
return into the house, but remains near the doorstep. Again she
turns; then she is about to go in, but turns again and remains
standing._]

THE DISAGREEABLE YOUNG MAN [_frightened_]. Grandma, you gave me your word that you would not be angry.

GRANDMOTHER [_she stumbles forward a few steps. She is disturbed, shivering, beside herself, complaining, almost sobbing_]. You are an evil child! You are a bad, bad and evil child! For fifty years I have told the same story ... always the same, same way ... and that it happened differently never, never even came into my mind.

[_Curtain._]

THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL

A PLAY

BY GIUSEPPE GIACOSA
TRANSLATED BY THEODORA MARCONE.

Copyright, 1920, by Stewart & Kidd Company.
All rights reserved.

CHARACTERS

PAOLO.
MARIO.
ANNA.
MADDALENA.

PLACE: _A villa at Brianza_.
TIME: _The Present_.

Applications for the right of performing THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL must
be made to Frank Shay, who may be addressed in care of Stewart & Kidd
Company.

THE RIGHTS OF THE SOUL

ONE ACT BY GIUSEPPE GIACOSA

[SCENE: _A living-room well furnished in an old fashioned style
but not shabbily. An open fire-place which is practical. A sofa. A
writing desk. A closet at the back. Door leading into Anna's room
at the left. Window at the right._

_Paolo discovered seated at the writing desk upon which there is a
confusion of papers._]

[_Servant--Maddalena enters._]

PAOLO. Well, has he returned yet?

MADDALENA. Not yet.

PAOLO. He has taken a lot of time!

MADDALENA. I have been to look for him at the post-office cafe.

PAOLO. I told you to look in his room or in the garden. Was it necessary to run all over the country?

MADDALENA. Well, he wasn't there. I thought--he wasn't at the cafe either, but they told me where he was. He'll be back shortly. He went to the station at Poggio to meet the engineer of the water-works. The tax collector saw him walking in that direction. He always walks. But he will return by the stage for the engineer's sake. The stage should be here at any moment. It is sure though--but are you listening?

PAOLO. No, you may go.

MADDALENA. Yes, sir. But it is sure that if the engineer of the water-works really has arrived, your brother will not go away to-morrow. You and the Madame intend leaving to-morrow, don't you?

PAOLO. Yes, no. I don't know--yes, we will go to-morrow. Leave me alone.

MADDALENA. All right, but see if I'm wrong; I say that your brother will not go to-morrow, nor the day after to-morrow. Here he is.

MARIO. Were you looking for me?

PAOLO. Yes, for the last hour.

MADDALENA. Mr. Paolo--here asked me--

PAOLO. I did not ask you anything. Go away. [_He takes her by the arm and pushes her out._]

MARIO. What has happened?

PAOLO. She is insufferable. She isn't listening at the door, is she?

MARIO. No, be calm. I hear her in the garden. What has happened. You look worried.

PAOLO. [_After a pause._] Do you know why Luciano killed himself?

MARIO. No.

PAOLO. He killed himself for love. For the love of Anna. I have the proofs--they are there. I just found it out to-day, a moment ago. He has killed himself for the love of my wife. You and I were his relatives; he was a companion of my youth, my dearest friend. He tried to force her to love him. Anna repulsed him. He insisted; Anna responded firmly. Highly strung as he was, he killed himself.

MARIO. How did you find out?

PAOLO. I have the proofs, I tell you. I have been reading them for an hour. I am still stunned! They have been there for a month. You know that as soon as I received the telegram in Milan which announced his suicide in London, I ran to Luciano's room and gathered all his papers, made a packet of them, sealed it and brought them here.

MARIO. I told you to burn them.

PAOLO. I wanted to in fact, but afterward I thought it better to await until the authorities of the hospital, to whom he left the estate, had verified the accounts. The Syndic came here an hour ago, at the order of the sub-Prefect, to give me the wallet which was found on the body and which our Consul at London had sent to the Minister of Foreign Affairs. I was just putting them away into the desk, when I felt the desire, I don't know why, to look for the reason of his suicide which no one seemed able to explain. [_Mario starts._] You know? You suspect the reason?

MARIO. I suspected--

PAOLO. Suspected! You knew of this love?

MARIO. There, there--I will tell you, don't excite yourself!

PAOLO. No--answer me! You knew?

MARIO. I felt it--yes, that Luciano had lost his head.

PAOLO. And you never told me anything?

MARIO. What had I to tell you? Seen by others these things appear greater and more offensive than they are. And then I might have been wrong; I only see you and Anna during your short visits to the country. If you, who are with her all the year, did not see anything--On the other hand, Anna was always on her guard, she knew perfectly how to defend herself.

PAOLO. Oh, Anna! Anna is a saint! I have always thought of her as one. But now--

MARIO. GO on--tell me.

PAOLO. In the wallet I found a letter and noticed it was in Anna's handwriting.

MARIO. It was perfectly natural that your wife should write to our cousin.

PAOLO. Naturally. In fact I have read it. Here it is. [_Mario starts to take the letter._] No, listen. [_Paolo reads._] "You write me--" [_Speaking._] There is no heading. [_Reads._] "You write me that if I do not respond you will return immediately. I love my husband, that is my reply. This and only this forever. I beg you not to torment me. Anna."

MARIO. Of course.

PAOLO. The scoundrel.

MARIO. What date is that letter?

PAOLO. Luciano himself has noted the hour and date when he received it. He has written here in pencil: "Received to-day, June 26th, 11 A.M." He killed himself before noon.

MARIO. Poor devil! One can see it was a stroke of insanity; the writing demonstrates that.

PAOLO. You understand of course, that I did not stop there. I opened the wallet. I found four other letters from Anna all on the same subject and in the same tone. The first is of three years ago. There are few words; returning a letter Luciano had written. I looked for this letter of Luciano--it is not here. He must have destroyed it. He kept only hers. Then there is a little note from Rome; you know Anna visited her mother in Rome for a month last winter. It is evident that our friend followed her. Anna would not see him. Then there is a long one which must have been written when he was recovering from that fall he had from his horse. It is the only long one among the five--written in affectionate terms, reasoning and begging; a wonderful letter, good, noble; read--read.

MARIO [_turning away_]. No, no, no.

PAOLO. Listen, just a moment.

MARIO. I don't like to.

PAOLO. She does nothing but speak of me, of our brotherly youth. She also speaks of you. She says--

MARIO. No, I beg of you. It is useless. I know what kind of a woman my sister-in-law is and I do not need proofs of her virtue. Why do you bother with those poor letters? Is it so painful that you have found them?

PAOLO. Painful? It is painful that I am not able to weep for a false relative who wished to rob--

MARIO. Let him alone. He is dead and he has not robbed you of anything. If he had lived he would not have robbed you of anything, the same. Anna knew how--

PAOLO. And this? And this? You count as little? Is this painful? I never had the shadow of a doubt about Anna, but--nor has the thought even passed through my mind--but it is different not to have doubted and not to have thought, than to possess the palpable proof of her faith and love. "I love my husband." It is the refrain of all her letters.

MARIO. Was it necessary that she tell you this?

PAOLO. She did not tell it to me, she told it to him. She told it to him--do you understand? Luciano had all the qualities which attract a woman. He was younger, better looking than I, well spoken, full of fire and courage.

MARIO. How it pleases you, eh? To praise him now!

PAOLO. Painful? If I had burned, as you wished, those papers and then one day I should have discovered this love, who could then have lifted this suspicion from my mind?

MARIO. The certainty makes you suspicious!

PAOLO. What do you mean?

MARIO. If you had feared this a year ago, that which has happened would not have occurred. I was wrong not to have opened your eyes. A long way off, perhaps Luciano would not have killed himself.

PAOLO. But I would have lacked the proof.

MARIO. Your tranquility costs much--to the others.

PAOLO. You can't pretend that I should feel badly about the fate of Luciano?

MARIO. I am not speaking of him.

PAOLO. Of whom?

MARIO. Of your wife. Think what she must be suffering!

PAOLO. Do you think she blames herself?

MARIO. Of course.

PAOLO. I have noticed that she was distressed but not agitated.

MARIO. You do not see the continuous things, you only see the unexpected. Besides, Anna is mistress of herself.

PAOLO. And she has done her duty.

MARIO. It is a long time that she has done her duty.

PAOLO. I shall know how to comfort her, there, I shall know how to cheer her. You shall see, Mario. I feel that we have returned to the first days of our marriage, that I possess her only from to-day.

MARIO. Leave it to time. You have read--you have known. It is enough. It is useless that Anna knows you know.

PAOLO. She was here when the Syndic gave me the wallet. But she went out immediately.

MARIO. She does not know, then, that you have read?

PAOLO. She will have imagined it.

MARIO. No. And in any case she would be grateful if you pretended to ignore....

PAOLO. Let us be frank. Don't let's argue. Nothing is more dreadful than to plan out a line of conduct in these matters. What she has done, Anna has done for me. I must think how to repay her. She has done this for me, for me, do you understand?

MARIO. And who says the contrary? See how you excite yourself.

PAOLO. Excite myself! Certainly, I will not go and say: "I have read your letters and I thank you very much!" One understands that when I speak of comforting her and of cheering her I intend to do it with the utmost tenderness, with the utmost confidence. I have always been like that. That was why she loved me. There is no need to change even to please you.

MARIO. How you take it!

PAOLO. It is you who take it badly. You have not said a just word to me. I thought better of you. One would say, to hear you, that this discovery was a disgrace. What has happened new from this discovery? Luciano is dead a month ago, the first grief is passed. If I did continue to ignore everything he would not return to life! He did not arrive to do me the harm he wanted to; so peace be to his soul. There remains the certainty of my wife's love and for this, think as you wish, I rejoice for the best fortune which could befall me.

MARIO. Come here. [_He places an arm around Paolo's shoulders._] Are you persuaded that I love you?

PAOLO. Yes.

MARIO. Well then, if you are content, so am I. Is it all right?

PAOLO. Yes. Now go and pack your bag.

MARIO. Ah, that reminds me, I cannot go to-morrow.

PAOLO. No!

MARIO. The engineer Falchi has arrived. The day after to-morrow there is the meeting of the water-company.

PAOLO. Send it to the devil.

MARIO. I cannot, I am the president.

PAOLO. It was arranged that we were to leave to-day. We put it off on your account.

MARIO. How could it be helped? I had to sell the hay. It is now a question of three days, four at the most.

PAOLO. Suppose Anna and I go meanwhile? The rent of the chalet started fifteen days ago. You can join us as soon as you are free.

MARIO. If you think so--

PAOLO. I'll tell you. The day after to-morrow is Anna's birthday. Until the business kept me in Milan all of July, we always passed that day together--just Anna and I. We did not do this on purpose, but things turned out so. Last year I was able to be free early in July and we came here to stay until September. Well, three days before her birthday, Anna begged me to take her for a trip to Switzerland. She did not tell me, you understand, the reason for her desire, but insisted upon leaving immediately. We went to Interlaken and from there we went up to Murren. The day of Saint Anna we were at Murren. The place was so lovely, Anna liked it so much, that then and there I arranged for a chalet for this year. Fifteen days ago you--who never go anywhere, proposed to accompany us--

MARIO. Did you find it indiscreet of me?

PAOLO. No. You saw that Anna was pleased. She is very fond of you.

MARIO. I know.

PAOLO. When you had to postpone your leaving it was the same as to propose that we wait for you. But the first delay would still have allowed us to arrive in time; this second one will not and I, for my part, now especially desire to be there at the date arranged. It is childish if you wish--

MARIO. No. All right. I will join you there.

PAOLO. We postponed leaving until to-morrow to await you; but now that you cannot come immediately we could leave this evening. [_Jumping up._] I must go--to get out of here. Those letters--

MARIO. Burn them. Give them to me.

PAOLO. Ah, no. Not yet.

MARIO. Go. Go to-night; it is better. But will Anna be ready?

ANNA. [_Who has entered._] To do what?

MARIO. I was telling Paolo that I could not leave to-morrow; nor for three or four days. It is useless that you two remain here in the heat to wait for me. Paolo must be back in Milan at the beginning of September; every day shortens his vacation. I am old enough to travel alone; as soon as I am free I will join you. What do you say?

ANNA. As you wish.

MARIO. I also desire to thoroughly clean the house and garden. Your presence would disturb me, and mine is necessary.

PAOLO. And as Mario cannot accompany us, we may as well leave this evening.

ANNA. So soon?

PAOLO. Your luggage is almost finished.

MARIO. You will gain a day. At this season of the year it is better to travel by night than by day. It is full moon now and the Gottard road is charming.

ANNA [_distractedly_]. Yes. Yes.

MARIO [_to Paolo_]. Then you had better go immediately to the stable in the piazza and tell them to hold a carriage in readiness. At what time does the train leave from Poggio?

PAOLO. At seven-thirty.

MARIO. Tell him to be here at six. I would send Battista to order it, but the engineer has taken him with him. On the other hand, it is better that you see the carriage, they have some antediluvian arks!

PAOLO. And why don't you go? He knows you and you know his arsenal--you could choose better.

MARIO. You are right. Anna, I will send Maddalena to help you with your luggage?

ANNA. Yes, thank you, Mario. Send Maddalena to help me.

MARIO [_going off_]. And dinner is at five.

PAOLO. Yes.

[_Mario exits. Silence. Anna takes a few steps toward the desk.
Paolo goes impetuously to Anna and takes her in his arms and
kisses her. She breaks away violently._]

ANNA. Oh--horrors! [_The words escape from her lips involuntarily._]

PAOLO [_drawing back_]. Anna!

ANNA. There was one of my letters in that wallet, wasn't there?

PAOLO. Yes, there was.

ANNA. You have read it?

PAOLO. Yes.

ANNA. I have killed a man and you embrace me for that?

PAOLO. I did not want to. I was tempted not to tell you. Mario advised me not to. Then when I saw you--you filled me with tenderness! But what did you say, Anna?

ANNA. Pardon me. And promise me that you will never speak of all this again, either here or hereafter, directly or indirectly--never.

PAOLO. I promise.

ANNA. You will not keep your promise.

PAOLO. Oh!

ANNA. You will not keep it. I know you. What a misfortune that you should have known it! I saw it in your eyes when I came in, that you knew. I had hoped that you would always have ignored it. I prayed so. But as soon as I entered I saw immediately. [_With imperceptible accent of mocking pity._] You had a modest and embarrassed air. I know you so well. Do you want to hear how well? When Mario proposed you go for the carriage, I thought--he will not go. When you sent him instead, I smiled.

PAOLO. I noticed it, but I did not understand.

PAOLO. That's nothing. That you should read me is natural.

ANNA. In exchange, eh? And listen--when Mario was leaving, I also thought--now the minute we are alone--he will come to me and embrace me.

PAOLO. You imagine very well....

ANNA. This was also natural, wasn't it?

PAOLO. I love you so much, Anna. [_A long pause._] It is strange that in your presence I have a sense of restraint. I tell you something and immediately I think should I tell her? Was it better I kept silent? It is the first time I have had this feeling toward you. We both need distraction.

ANNA. Yes, but to-day I do not leave.

PAOLO. No? But you said--

ANNA. I have thought better. There is not the time to get ready.

PAOLO. Your luggage is ready.

ANNA. Oh, there is a lot to do.

PAOLO. We have eight hours yet.

ANNA. I am tired.

PAOLO. Mario has just gone to order the carriage.

ANNA. It can be for another day.

PAOLO. Perhaps to-morrow--

ANNA. Not to-day, certainly.

PAOLO. I do not know how to tell Mario. It looks like a whim.

ANNA. Oh, Mario will understand.

PAOLO. More than I do.

ANNA. I did not wish to say--

PAOLO. Anna, you do not pardon me for having read those letters.

ANNA. You see, you have already begun to speak of them again! Well, no, no, no, poor Paolo, it is not that. I have nothing to pardon. Believe me. I feel no wrath or bitterness. I would have given, I don't know what, if you had ignored them; for you, for your own good, for your peace, not for me. But I felt that some time or other--[_Pause._] It has been a useless tragedy--you will see.

PAOLO. What do you mean?

ANNA. I don't know, don't mind me--excuse me--[_Moves up._]

PAOLO. Are you going?

ANNA. Yes.

PAOLO. So you won't tell me if we go to-morrow?

ANNA. We have time to decide.

PAOLO. Oh, rather. [_Anna exits. Silence._] A useless tragedy! [_Sits with his elbows upon his knees and his head in his hands._]

MARIO [_coming in_]. There, that is done. And Anna?

PAOLO. She's there. [_Points off._]

MARIO. Maddalena will be here immediately, she was still at the wash-house. Well? Come, come, shake yourself, throw off that fixed idea. One knows that at the first opportunity--You do well to leave immediately, the trip will distract you.

PAOLO. We do not go.

MARIO. What?

PAOLO. Anna does not want to.

MARIO. Why?

PAOLO [_shrugs his shoulders_].

MARIO. She said so?

PAOLO. She understood, she asked me.... I could not deny it.

MARIO. She asked of her own accord, without you saying anything?

PAOLO. Do me the favor of not judging me now. If you knew what I am thinking!

MARIO. Do you wish that I speak to her? I am convinced that to remain here is the worse thing to do.

PAOLO. Try it. Who knows? You understand her so well! She said so herself.

MARIO. And you promise me not to worry meanwhile?

PAOLO. What is the use of promising? I wouldn't keep it. She said that also. She knows me. Don't you know me?

MARIO. Is she in her room?

PAOLO. I think so.

MARIO. Leave it to me.