Chapter III: Part 3

FRIEDRICH: Well, then you ought to be able to understand what dreadful feelings overcame me when I discovered, sooner than you or the world, the affection of my father for you. That was--no, you cannot grasp it.

RITA (_looks at him searchingly_): Sooner than I and all the world?

FRIEDRICH: Oh, a great deal sooner ... that was.... That time was the beginning of the hardest innermost struggles for me. What was I to do? (_He sighs deeply_.) Ah, Miss Erna, we people are really----

RITA: Yes, yes.

FRIEDRICH: We are dreadfully shallow-minded. How seldom one of us can really live as he would like to. Must we not always and forever consider others--and our surroundings?

RITA: Must?

FRIEDRICH: Well, yes, we do so, at least. And when it is our own father! For, look here, Erna, I never would have been able to oppose my father! I was used, as you well know, from childhood to always look up to my father with the greatest respect. He used to be severe, my father, proud and inaccessible, but--if I may be permitted to say so, he was an excellent man.

RITA: Well?

FRIEDRICH (_eagerly_): Yes, indeed! You must remember that it was he alone who established our business by means of his powerful energy and untiring diligence. Only now I myself have undertaken the management of the establishment. I am able to see what an immense work he has accomplished.

RITA (_simply_): Yes, he was an able business man.

FRIEDRICH: In every respect! Ability personified, and he had grown to be fifty-two years of age and was still, still--how shall I say?

RITA: Still able.

FRIEDRICH: Well, yes; I mean a vigorous man in his best years. For fifteen years he had been a widower, he had worked, worked unceasingly, and then--the house was well established--he could think of placing some of the work upon younger shoulders. He could think of enjoying his life once more.

RITA (_softly_): That is----

FRIEDRICH (_continuing_): And he thought he had found, in you, the one who would bring back to him youth and the joy of life.

RITA (_irritated_): Yes, but then you ought to--(_Breaks off._) Oh, it is not worth while.

FRIEDRICH: How? I should have been man enough to say: No, I forbid it; that is a folly of age. I, your son, forbid it. I demand her for myself. The young fortune is meant for me--not for you?----No, Erna, I could not do that. I could not do that.

RITA: No.

FRIEDRICH: I, the young clerk, with no future before me!

RITA: No!

FRIEDRICH: My entire training and my conceptions urged me to consider it my duty to simply stand aside and stifle my affection, as I did--as I already told you even before any other person had an idea of the intentions of my father. I gradually grew away from you.

RITA (_amused_): Gradually--yes, I recollect. You suddenly became formal. Indeed, very nice!

FRIEDRICH: I thought----

(_Bertha comes with the coffee and serves._)

RITA: Will you take a cup with me?

FRIEDRICH (_thoughtlessly_): I thought----(_Correcting himself_) pardon me! I thank you!

RITA: I hope it will not disturb you if I drink my coffee while you continue.

FRIEDRICH: Please (_embarrassed_). I thought it a proper thing. I hoped that my cold and distant attitude would check a possible existing affection for me.

RITA: Possible existing affection! Fie! Now you are beginning to lie! (_She jumps up and walks nervously through the room._) As though you had not positively known that! (_Stepping in front of him_) Or what did you take me for when I kissed you?

FRIEDRICH (_very much frightened, also rises_): O, Erna, I always----

RITA (_laughs_): You are delightful! Delightful! Still the same bashful boy--who does not dare--(_she laughs and sits down again_.) Delightful.

FRIEDRICH (_after a silence, hesitatingly_): Well, are you going to allow me to call you Erna again, as of yore?

RITA: As of yore. (_She sighs, then gaily_) If you care to.

FRIEDRICH (_happy_): Yes? May I?

RITA (_heartily_): O, yes, Fritz. That's better, isn't it? It sounds more natural, eh?

FRIEDRICH (_presses her hand and sighs_): Yes, really. You take a heavy load from me. Everything that I want to say to you can be done so much better in the familiar tone.

RITA: Oh! Have you still so much to say to me?

FRIEDRICH: Well--but now tell me first: how was it possible for you to undertake such a step. What prompted you to leave so suddenly? Erna, Erna, how could you do that?

RITA (_proudly_): How I could? Can you ask me that? Do you really not know it?

FRIEDRICH (_softly_): Oh, yes; I do know it, but--it takes so much to do that.

RITA: Not more than was in me.

FRIEDRICH: One thing I must confess to you, although it was really bad of me. But I knew no way out of it. I felt relieved after you had gone.

RITA: Well, then, that was _your_ heroism.

FRIEDRICH: Do not misunderstand me. I knew my father had----

RITA: Yes, yes--but do not talk about it any more.

FRIEDRICH: You are right. It was boyish of me. It did not last long, and then I mourned for you--not less than your parents. Oh, Erna! If you would see your parents now. They have aged terribly. Your father has lost his humor altogether, and is giving full vent to his old passion for red wine. Your mother is always ailing, hardly ever leaves the house, and both, even though they never lose a word about it, cannot reconcile themselves to the thought that their only child left them.

RITA (_after a pause, awakens from her meditation, harshly_): Perhaps you were sent by my father?

FRIEDRICH: No--why?

RITA: Then I would show you the door.

FRIEDRICH: Erna!

RITA: A man, who ventured to pay his debts with me----

FRIEDRICH: How so; what do you mean?

RITA: Oh--let's drop that. Times were bad. But to-day the house of Hattenbach enjoys its good old standing, as you say, and has overcome the crisis. Then your father must have had some consideration--without me. Well, then.----And Rudolstadt still stands--on the old spot. That's the main thing. But now let us talk about something else, I beg of you.

FRIEDRICH: No, no, Erna. What you allude to, that----do you really believe my father had----

RITA: Your father had grown used to buy and attain everything in life through money. Why not buy me also? And he had already received the promise--not from me, but from my father. But I am free! I ran away and am my own mistress! (_With haughtiness._) A young girl, all alone! Down with the gang!

(_Friedrich is silent and holds his head._)

RITA (_steps up to him and touches his shoulder, in a friendly manner_): Don't be sad. At that time your father was the stronger, and----Life is not otherwise. After all, one must assert oneself.

FRIEDRICH: But he robbed you of your happiness.

RITA (_jovially_): Who knows? It is just as well.

FRIEDRICH (_surprised_): Is that possible? Do you call that happiness, this being alone?

RITA: Yes. That is MY happiness--my freedom, and I love it with jealousy, for I fought for it myself.

FRIEDRICH (_bitterly_): A great happiness! Outside of family ties, outside the ranks of respectable society.

RITA (_laughs aloud, but without bitterness_): Respectable society! Yes. I fled from that--thank Heaven. (_harshly_) But if you do not come in the name of my father, what do you want here? Why do you come? For what purpose? What do you want of me?

FRIEDRICH: Erna, you ask that in a strange manner.

RITA: Well, yes. I have a suspicion that you--begrudge me my liberty. How did you find me, anyway?

FRIEDRICH: Yes, that was hard enough.

RITA: Rita Revera is not so unknown.

FRIEDRICH: Rita Revera! Oh, no! How often I have read that name these last years--in the newspapers in Berlin, on various placards, in large letters. But how could I ever have thought that you were meant by it?

RITA (_laughs_): Why did you not go to the "Winter Garden" when you were in Berlin?

FRIEDRICH: I never frequent such places.

RITA: Pardon me! Oh, I always forget the old customs.

FRIEDRICH: Oh, please, please, dear Erna; not in this tone of voice!

RITA: Which tone?

FRIEDRICH: Erna! Do not make matters so difficult for me. See, after I had finally discovered, through an agency in Berlin, and after hunting a long time, that you were the famous Revera, I was terribly shocked at first, terribly sad, and, for a moment, I thought of giving up everything. My worst fears were over. I had the assurance that you lived in good, and as I now see, in comfortable circumstances. But, on the other hand, I had to be prepared that you might have grown estranged to the world in which I live--that we could hardly understand each other.

RITA: Hm! Shall I tell you what was your ideal--how you would have liked to find me again? As a poor seamstress, in an attic room, who, during the four years, had lived in hunger and need--but respectably, that is the main point. Then you would have stretched forth your kind arms, and the poor, pale little dove would have gratefully embraced you. Will you deny that you have imagined it thus and even wished for it?

FRIEDRICH (_looks at her calmly_): Well, is there anything wrong about it?

RITA: But how did it happen that, regardless of this, of this disappointment, you, nevertheless, continued to search for me?

FRIEDRICH: Thank goodness, at the right moment I recollected your clear, silvery, childlike laughter. Right in the midst of my petty scruples it resounded in my ears, as at the time when you ridiculed my gravity. Do you still remember that time, Erna?

(_Rita is silent._)

BERTHA (_enters with an enormous bouquet of dark red roses_): My lady--from the Count.

RITA (_jumps up, nervously excited_): Roses! My dark roses! Give them to me! Ah! (_She holds them toward Friedrich and asks_) Did he say anything?

BERTHA: No, said nothing, but----

FRIEDRICH (_shoves the bouquet, which she holds up closely to his face, aside_): I thank you.

RITA (_without noticing him, to Bertha_): Well?

BERTHA (_pointing to the bouquet_): The Count has written something on a card.

RITA: His card? Where? (_She searches among the flowers_) Oh, here! (_She reads; then softly to Bertha_) It is all right.

(_Bertha leaves_.)

RITA (_reads again_): "Pour prendre congé." (_With an easy sigh_) Yes, yes.

FRIEDRICH: What is the matter?

RITA: Sad! His education was hardly half finished and he already forsakes me.

FRIEDRICH: What do you mean? I do not understand you at all.

RITA (_her mind is occupied_): Too bad. Now he'll grow entirely stupid.

FRIEDRICH (_rises importantly_): Erna, answer me. What relationship existed between you and the Count?

RITA (_laughs_): What business is that of yours?

FRIEDRICH (_solemnly_): Erna! Whatever it might have been, this will not do any longer.

RITA (_gaily_): No, no; you see it is already ended.

FRIEDRICH: No, Erna, that must all be ended. You must get out of all this--entirely--and forever.

RITA (_looks at him surprised and inquiringly_): Hm! Strange person.

FRIEDRICH (_grows more eager and walks up and down in the room_): Such a life is immoral. You must recognize it. Yes, and I forbid you to live on in this fashion. I have the right to demand it of you.

RITA (_interrupts him sharply_): Demand? You demand something of me?

FRIEDRICH: Yes, indeed, demand! Not for me--no--in the name of morals. That which I ask of you is simply a moral demand, do you understand, a moral demand, which must be expected of every woman.

RITA: "Must!" And why?

FRIEDRICH: Because--because--because--well, dear me--because--otherwise everything will stop!

RITA: What will stop? Life?

FRIEDRICH: No, but morals.

RITA: Ah, I thank you. Now I understand you. One must be moral because--otherwise morality will stop.

FRIEDRICH: Why, yes. That is very simple.

RITA: Yes--now, please, what would I have to do in order to fulfill your demand? I am curious like a child now, and shall listen obediently. (_She sits down again._)

FRIEDRICH (_also sits down and grasps her hand, warmly_): Well, see, my dear Erna, everything can still be undone. In Rudolstadt everybody believes you are in England with relatives. Even if you have never been there----

RITA: Often enough. My best engagements.

FRIEDRICH: So much the better. Then you certainly speak English?

RITA: Of course.

FRIEDRICH: And you are acquainted with English customs. Excellent. Oh, Erna. Your father will be pleased, he once confessed to me, when he had a little too much wine. You know him: he grows sentimental then.

RITA (_to herself_): They are all that way.

FRIEDRICH: How?

RITA: Oh, nothing. Please continue. Well--I could come back?

FRIEDRICH: Certainly! Fortunately, during these last years, since you have grown so famous, nobody has----

RITA: I have grown notorious only within a year.

FRIEDRICH: Well, most likely nobody in Rudolstadt has ever seen you on the boards. In one word, you _must_ return.

RITA: From England?

FRIEDRICH: Yes, nothing lies in the way. And your mother will be overjoyed.

RITA: Nay, nay.

FRIEDRICH: How well that you have taken a different name.

RITA: Ah, that is it. Yes, I believe that. Then they know that I am Rita Revera.

FRIEDRICH: I wrote them. They will receive you with open arms. Erna! I beg of you! I entreat you; come with me! It is still time. To-day. You cannot know, but anybody from Rudolstadt who knows might come to the theatre and----

RITA (_decidedly_): No one from Rudolstadt will do that. They are too well trained for that. You see it by your own person. But go on! If I would care to, if I really would return--what then?

FRIEDRICH: Then? Well, then, you would be in the midst of the family and society again--and then----

RITA: And then?

FRIEDRICH: Then, after some time has elapsed and you feel at home and when all is forgotten, as though nothing had ever happened----

RITA: But a great deal has happened.

FRIEDRICH: Erna, you must not take me for such a Philistine that I would mind that. At heart I am unprejudiced. No, really, I know (_softly_) my own fault, and I know Life. I know very well, and I cannot ask it of you, that you, in a career like yours, you----

RITA: Hm?

FRIEDRICH: Well, that you should have remained entirely faultless. And I do not ask it of you either.

RITA: You do well at that.

FRIEDRICH: I mean, whatever has happened within these four years--lies beyond us, does not concern me--but shall not concern you any longer either. Rita Revera has ceased to be--Erna Hattenbach returns to her family.

RITA: Lovely, very lovely. Hm!--but then, what then? Shall I start a cooking school?

FRIEDRICH (_with a gentle reproach_): But, Erna! Don't you understand me? Could you think of anything else than---- Of course, I shall marry you then.

(_Rita looks at him puzzled._)

FRIEDRICH: But that is self-evident. Why should I have looked you up otherwise? Why should I be here? But, dear Erna, don't look so stunned.

RITA (_still stares at him_): "Simply--marry." Strange. (_She turns around towards the open piano, plays and sings softly_) Farilon, farila, farilette.

FRIEDRICH (_has risen_): Erna! Do not torment me!

RITA: Torment? No. That would not be right. You are a good fellow. Give me a kiss. (_She rises._)

FRIEDRICH (_embraces and kisses her_): My Erna! Oh, you have grown so much prettier! So much prettier!

(_Rita leans her head on his shoulder._)

FRIEDRICH: But now come. Let us not lose one moment.

(_Rita does not move_.)

FRIEDRICH: If possible let everything be.... Come! (_He pushes her with gentle force_) You cry?

RITA (_hastily wipes the tears from her eyes, controls herself_): O, nonsense. Rita Revera does not cry--she laughs. (_Laughs forcedly._)

FRIEDRICH: Erna, do not use that name. I do not care to hear it again!

RITA: Oh--you do not want to hear it any more. You would like to command me. You come here and assume that that which life and hard times have made of me you can wipe out in a half hour! No! You do not know life and know nothing of me. (_Harshly_) My name is Revera, and I shall not marry a merchant from Rudolstadt.

FRIEDRICH: How is that? You still hesitate?

RITA: Do I look as though I hesitated? (_She steps up closer to him._) Do you know, Fred, that during the years after my escape I often went hungry, brutally hungry? Do you know that I ran about in the most frightful dives, with rattling plate, collecting pennies and insults? Do you know what it means to humiliate oneself for dry bread? You see; that has been my school. Do you understand that I had to become an entirely different person or go to ruin? One who owes everything to himself, who is proud of himself, but who no longer respects anything, above all, no conventional measures and weights? And do you understand, Fred, that it would be base on my part were I to follow you to the Philistine?

FRIEDRICH (_after a pause, sadly_): No, I do not understand that.

RITA (_again gaily_): I thought so. Shall I dread there every suspicion and tremble before every fool, whereas I can breathe free air, enjoy sunshine and the best conscience. You know that pretty part in the Walküre? (_She sings_):

"Greet Rudolstadt for me,
Greet my father and mother
And all the heroes....
I shall not follow you to them!"

Now you know. (_She sits down at the piano again._)

FRIEDRICH (_after silence_): Even if you have lived through hard times, that still does not give you the right to disregard the duties of morals and customs.

RITA (_plays and sings_): "Farilon, farila, farilette--"

FRIEDRICH: I cannot understand how you can refuse me, when I offer you the opportunity of returning to ordered circumstances.

RITA: I do not love the "ordered" circumstances. On the contrary, I must have something to train.

FRIEDRICH: And I? I shall never be anything to you any more? You thrust me also aside in your stubbornness.

RITA: But not at all. Why?

FRIEDRICH: How so? Did you not state just now that you would never marry a merchant from Rudolstadt.

RITA: Certainly----

FRIEDRICH: Do you see? You cannot be so cold and heartless towards me? (_Flattering_) Why did you kiss me before? I know you also yearn in your innermost heart for those times in which we secretly saw and found each other. You also, and, even if you deny it, I felt it before when you cried. (_Softly_) Erna! Come along, come along with me! Come! Become my dear wife!

RITA (_looks at him quietly_): No, I shall not do such a thing.

FRIEDRICH (_starts nervously; after a pause_): Erna! Is that your last word?

RITA: Yes.

FRIEDRICH: Consider well what you say!

RITA: I know what I am about.

FRIEDRICH: Erna! You want--to remain what you are?

RITA: Yes. That's just what I want.

FRIEDRICH (_remains for some time struggling, then grasps his hat_): Then--adieu! (_He hurries toward the left into the bedroom._)

RITA (_calls smiling_): Halt! Not there.

FRIEDRICH (_returns, confused_): Pardon me, I----

RITA: Poor Fred, did you stray into my bedroom? There is the door. (_Long pause. Several times he tries to speak. She laughs gently. Then she sings and plays the song from "Mamselle Nitouche"_):

A minuit, après la fête,
Rev'naient Babet et Cadet;
Cristi! la nuit est complète,
Faut nous dépêcher, Babet.
Tâche d'en profiter, grosse bête!
Farilon, farila, farilette.
J'ai trop peur, disait Cadet--
J'ai pas peur, disait Babet--
Larirette, larire,
Larirette, larire.-- -- --

(_Friedrich at first listens against his will, even makes a step toward the door. By and by he becomes fascinated and finally is charmed. When she finishes, he puts his stiff hat on the table and walks toward her with a blissful smile._)

RITA: Now? You even smile? Did I impress you?

FRIEDRICH (_drops down on his knees in front of her_): Oh, Erna, you are the most charming woman on earth. (_He kisses her hands wildly._)

RITA (_stoops down to him, softly and merrily_): Why run away? Why? If you still love me, can you run off--you mule?

FRIEDRICH: Oh, I'll remain--I remain with you.

RITA: It was well that you missed the door.

FRIEDRICH: Oh, Erna----

RITA: But now you'll call me Rita--do you understand? Well? Are you going to--are you going to be good?

FRIEDRICH: Rita! Rita! Everything you wish.

RITA: Everything I wish. (_She kisses him._) And now tell me about your moral demand. Yes? You are delightful when you talk about it. So delightful.

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+England's Ideal, and Other Papers on Social Subjects.+ By Edward Carpenter. Edward Carpenter is at once a profound student of social problems, an essayist with a most charming style, and a writer of true poetic insight. Everything he writes is worth reading. Cloth +$1.00+

+The Social Revolution.+ By Karl Kautsky. Translated by A. M. and May Wood Simons. Cloth +50c.+

+The Origin and Growth of Village Communities in India.+ By B. H. Baden-Powell. A scientific study of a remarkable survival of a phase of primitive communism in the British dominions to-day. Cloth +$1.00+

+American Communities.+ By William Alfred Hinds. Mr. Hinds was for many years a resident of one of these colonies and has visited, personally, scores of others, which particularly fits him for the task. Cloth, 433 pages, with 17 full-page illustrations +$1.00+

+The Sale of an Appetite.+ By Paul Lafargue. This book by one of the foremost socialists of Europe is a notable work of art considered merely as a story and at the same time it is one of the most stirring indictments of the capitalist system ever written. Cloth, illustrated +50c.+

+The Triumph of Life.+ By Wilhelm Boelsche. The German critics of this book all agree that it is more interesting than his previous work on "The Evolution of Man," and those who have read the former work will realize what this means. The book is the story of the victory of life over the planet earth and is told in a marvelously vivid and picturesque manner. Cloth +50c.+

+Poems of Walt Whitman.+ We have secured a reprint of Whitman's famous "Leaves of Grass" for the benefit of those who, having read Mrs. Maynard's charming introduction, may desire to read the poet. Nearly all of Whitman's poems are contained therein, and John Burroughs has written a biographical introduction.

TO YOU, WHOEVER YOU ARE.

I will leave all, and come and make the hymns of you;
None have understood you, but I understand you,
None have done justice to you--you have not done justice to
yourself.

Cloth, 341 pages +75c.+

+Crime and Criminals.+ By Clarence S. Darrow. This is an address delivered to the prisoners at the county jail in Chicago. It shows the real cause of what is called crime and the real way to put an end to it. Paper +10c.+

+Katharine Breshkovsky--"For Russia's Freedom."+ By Ernest Poole. This is the true story of a Russian woman revolutionist who has been addressing immense crowds in American cities. "Daughter of a nobleman and earnest philanthropist; then revolutionist, hard-labor convict, and exile for twenty-three years in Siberia; and now a heroic old woman of sixty-one, she has plunged again into the dangerous struggle for freedom." Paper +10c.+

All Orders, Money Prepaid, to be sent to E. GOLDMAN, Box 217, Madison Square Station, New York City.

End of Project Gutenberg's Mother Earth, Vol. 1 No. 2, April 1906, by Various