Chapter III: Act II

_The same scenery as in the first act. The drawing-room is brightly lit, the curtain in the opening at back of stage drawn back, showing two other apartments, also brilliantly lit. In the nearest one a group of gentlemen are at the billiard-table. In the third room the rest of the guests have just left the table. For some minutes_ Beata _is seen among them_. Brachtmann, Prince Usingen _and_ von Berkelwitz-Gruenhof _are just coming out of the billiard-room, talking together._

Brachtmann.

(_Coming forward with_ Usingen.) Prince, I want a word with you later--an important matter.

Prince.

And I want a word with you.

Brachtmann.

On the same subject, probably.

Prince.

Perhaps.

von Berkelwitz (_looking about him_).

Deuced fine--magnificent! You've got to come up to town to see this kind of thing.

Brachtmann.

How is it we never see you in the Reichstag nowadays, my dear fellow?

von Berkelwitz.

What's a man to do? I'm a country squire--I've got to work--and besides I'm too poor to live in town. A man has got to make a show here--keep up appearances--I--hang it, that champagne's gone to my head--what was I going to say? Oh, yes: well, you see, I've got four boys growing up; one is in the Rathenow Hussars--crack regiment, you know--I always look out for that sort of thing--but costs like the devil! The second is with the Pacific squadron on board the Princess William. _He_ doesn't cost as much except when he's ashore. The third is to study forestry, and just now he's with his rifle-corps. The fourth is at college--Bonn--belongs to all the most expensive clubs--but smart, deuced smart! That's the chief thing. I expect all four to make their living out of the state, but meanwhile they're a confounded expense to me. You've no idea what it costs to keep Oscar alone in white gloves!

Prince (_to_ Brachtmann).

And these are the sources of German statesmanship!

von Berkelwitz.

What did you say, Prince?

Prince.

Nothing, nothing.

von Berkelwitz.

Not that we can't give you as good a dinner as you'll get here. But as to keeping up a countryseat and a town house and a shooting-box and a racing-stable--why, it's out of the question. I've had to mortgage my place--and the men's wages--coming round every Saturday! well--well--I tell my boys--rich marriages--_that's_ the cure. And they _ought_ to, by gad! Good-looking fellows, you understand. What the deuce are we Prussian noblemen for, if the state doesn't provide for us? Just answer me that!

Prince (_who has been studying the pictures_).

You ought to ask the Socialists that, Herr von Berkelwitz--ask it in the Reichstag, you know. It would be rather effective. (_Turns back to the pictures_.) A capital Sustermans.

Brachtmann (_smiling_).

After all, we're all looking out for ourselves.

von Berkelwitz.

And how have we succeeded? What have we landed proprietors accomplished? Oh, we can all talk loud enough; but when it comes to action, there we stand with our hands in our pockets.

Prince.

(_Who is turning over photograph-albums on the table_.) Other people's pockets.

Brachtmann (_laughing_).

Prince--Prince!

von Berkelwitz.

(_In a low tone, to_ Brachtmann.) I say, is that fellow making fun of us?

Brachtmann.

He's ten times more of a Conservative than either of us.

von Berkelwitz.

He talks like a Radical.

Prince (_in a startled tone_).

Oh, the devil!

Brachtmann.

What's the matter?

Prince.

Isn't this the Countess's writing-table?

Brachtmann.

Yes.

Prince.

Come here a moment, will you, and just glance discreetly over these papers. Do you notice anything? (Brachtmann _shrugs his shoulders_.) I mean among the newspapers.

Brachtmann (_in a low voice, much agitated_).

The devil!--That was what I wanted to speak to you about. (_He points to one of the papers_.)

Prince.

Ah--they've sent you one too?

Brachtmann.

In the same wrapper, addressed in the same hand. An hour ago, just as I left the house. I suppose they haven't had time to look at the last post here.

Prince.

(_Taking up the paper and looking at the wrapper_.) Do you know, I've half a mind----

Brachtmann.

No, no, Prince--can't be done.

Prince.

I know it can't, my dear Baron. That's the very reason.--Don't our political opponents say that property is theft? Why not reverse the axiom, and----

von Berkelwitz.

What the deuce----?

Prince.

Why, instead of putting our hands into other people's pockets, we might put other people's property into ours.

Brachtmann.

Prince, we all know your way----

von Berkelwitz.

If your Highness has made yourself sufficiently witty at our expense, perhaps you'll explain what this is? (_Pointing to the paper_.)

Prince.

This, my dear Herr von Berkelwitz, is a copy of the "Lengenfeld News," the Socialist organ----

von Berkelwitz.

Faugh! How can you touch it?

Prince.

Well, it touches _us_, and rather nearly, as you'll see.

von Berkelwitz.

Why, what's up?

Prince.

(_Taking a newspaper out of his pocket_.) Look here----

von Berkelwitz.

That's the same as the other?

Prince.

Precisely. I brought it with me on your account. You will find in it an interesting report of a meeting of Socialist electors. Do me the favour to read the passage which they have thoughtfully marked for our benefit.

von Berkelwitz (_reading_).

"It is seldom that the honourable gentlemen of the Right, the self-constituted guardians of public morality, give us an opportunity to see what goes on behind the scenes, in the gilded saloons to which the man in the street may not presume to penetrate"--confound their insolence!--"it is not often that we get a hint of what goes on behind their silken bed-curtains"--h'm, I wish they could see what I sleep on!

Prince.

Go on.

von Berkelwitz (_reading_).

"But now and then a happy accident yields us an edifying glimpse of their private histories. And, if I might venture to speak openly, I could give you such a glimpse into the private life of the honourable member from Lengenfeld, and into his relations with the friend whose seat in the Reichstag he has taken--the confiding friend who, instead of keeping watch in his own house, has been travelling from place to place, canvassing for the honourable member. (Laughter. Prolonged cheering.)" Lengenfeld? Lengen--why, that is Voelkerlingk's district. (Brachtmann _nods affirmatively_.)

von Berkelwitz.

And the friend--the friend who----? (_He breaks off, and points vaguely to the room_. Brachtmann _nods again_.) The deuce!

Brachtmann.

On account of the party I suppose we shall have to take some notice of this.

Prince.

Kellinghausen evidently doesn't know of it yet. But Voelkerlingk does. I watched him.

Brachtmann.

The Countess is not well. Who is the proper person to take that paper away before she sees it?

Prince (_smiling_).

Well, frankly, I should say Voelkerlingk----

Brachtmann.

You don't mean----

Prince (_still smiling_).

I don't mean anything.

von Berkelwitz.

Gentlemen, I'm only a plain country squire, but I should like to suggest that the morals of our hostess are hardly a subject for discussion.

Prince.

Morals? Morals? What do morals signify? They were only invented for the preservation of the race.

von Berkelwitz.

That's over my head, your Highness.

Prince.

It's simple enough. Mankind is bound to go on reproducing itself--that's its fundamental instinct. Morality was invented to keep the strain pure. If it ceases to accomplish that purpose, it had better abdicate in favour of immorality. That's all.

von Berkelwitz.

I'll be hanged if I understand a single word.

Prince.

We all know the old families wouldn't have survived till now if the stock hadn't been renewed--surreptitiously, so to speak--by----

Brachtmann.

Really, Prince--really----

Prince.

My dear Brachtmann, it's all very well for you to look shocked. Your family hasn't had to resort to such expedients: your patent of nobility isn't more than two hundred years old. But my people have been misbehaving since the time of Lewis the Pious. Look at the result--look at _me_. Jaw prognathous--frontal bone asymmetrical--ears abnormal--all the symptoms of a decaying race. Thanks to several centuries of inbreeding, I must go through life a degenerate, and I assure you I haven't any talent for it. If only I could marry a healthy dairy-maid! Under such circumstances, do you wonder one loses one's respect for morality? What if two people in this house have followed the dictates of their temperament?

Brachtmann.

Prince, von Berkelwitz is right. As long as we're in the house ourselves, we'll postpone any discussion of its inmates.

Prince.

As you please. (Richard Voelkerlingk _is seen approaching. The_ Prince _glances toward him_.) Which won't prevent my feeling the sincerest sympathy for our friend there. His phenomenal self-possession is enough to confirm my suspicions.

_Enter_ Richard.

Richard.

I've been looking for you every where, Brachtmann. I want to shake hands and tell you how glad I am to be under your orders again.

Brachtmann.

We won't talk of being under my orders, my dear Voelkerlingk. You know how badly we need you, and how anxious we are to have you take the lead in the coming debate. (Richard _bows_.) I suppose we may count on your speaking on the Divorce Bill next Friday?

Richard (_hesitating_).

Why--I had hardly expected----

Brachtmann.

It's the very thing we want of you. According to the Socialists, a man and his wife are no more bound to each other than a pair of cuckoos. We need a speaker of your eloquence and your convictions to proclaim the sanctity of the marriage-bond.

Richard.

But I hardly know if I should have time to get my facts together. And besides-- (_He draws_ Brachtmann _aside and continues in a low tone_.) An hour or two ago I received a copy of a speech that a fellow called Meixner has been making against me. The man is a former secretary of mine, turned Socialist----

Brachtmann.

Ah--Meixner was your secretary?

Richard.

You knew of this?

Brachtmann.

My dear Voelkerlingk, don't you see that after such an attack it's doubly important that you should speak on this very question? As for the party, I think I may say in its name that our asking you to do so is equivalent to a vote of confidence.

Richard.

Thanks, Brachtmann. I believe you're right. My refusal might be misinterpreted.

Brachtmann (_turning toward the others_).

We were speaking of this when you joined us. We have all received copies of the paper.

Richard (_to the group_).

Then I must apologise for not having mentioned the matter; but I was waiting to bring it before you in committee. It seems to be a question of personal spite, for my son has received the paper too.

Brachtmann.

And Madame von Voelkerlingk?

Richard.

My wife? Why do you ask?

Brachtmann.

Look at this. (_Leads_ Richard _to the writing-table and points to the paper_. Richard _starts, but controls himself instantly_.)

Prince.

We were just wondering how we could get rid of the thing before it is discovered, and we had reluctantly decided that none of us is sufficiently intimate here to tamper with the Countess's papers. Now, if _you_, my dear Baron--as an old friend of the family--knowing how important it is to spare her any excitement----

Richard (_looking at him sharply_).

There is only one person entitled to remove that paper, and that is Count Kellinghausen. I will speak to him at once.

Prince (_aside_).

Irreproachable!

Brachtmann.

My dear Voelkerlingk, for heaven's sake leave Kellinghausen out of the question!

Richard.

How can I?

Brachtmann.

I have been in politics long enough to take such incidents philosophically. But Kellinghausen, easy-going as he is, strikes me as the kind of man who might make an ass of himself in such an emergency. If he loses his head he may do the party an incalculable amount of harm; whereas, if we can keep this thing from him, it will blow over in a week, and nobody be any the worse for it.

Richard.

But you forget that I am as much involved in this as Kellinghausen. It is impossible that I should stand aside and allow any reflection to be cast on--er----

Brachtmann.

You are quite right. But wait a moment. You said you meant to bring the matter up in committee, which is undoubtedly the proper way of dealing with it. The committee meets the day after to-morrow; and all I ask is that you should say nothing till then.

Richard.

And suppose I agree to that what becomes of this paper? (_Pointing to the writing-table_.) What if the Countess finds it?

von Berkelwitz.

Gentlemen, I'm only a plain country squire, and I haven't your refinements of conscience. (_He takes the paper, tears it up and throws it into the wastepaper basket_. Brachtmann _and the_ Prince _laugh_.)

von Berkelwitz.

After which act of felony I suppose I had better make my escape. (_Shakes hands with the others and goes out_.)

Brachtmann.

Then it's understood that, in the interests of the party, you will----

Prince.

'Sh. Here is our host.

Kellinghausen _enters_.

Kellinghausen.

Ah, there you are, Richard! My dear fellow, I've been hunting for you high and low. I was actually reduced to asking Madame von Voelkerlingk where you were. "My dear Count," she said, "it's fifteen years since I've known where my husband was." Nice reputation you've got! Well, now I've run you to earth, sit down and let's have a talk. (_To the others_.) I haven't had a chance to say two words to him yet.

Prince.

My dear Brachtmann, shall we----?

Kellinghausen.

No, no; don't run off. Richard and I have no secrets. Let us take possession of this quiet corner. (_To_ Conrad, _who is passing with a tray of refreshments_.) Conrad, what have you got there? Lion brew from the wood, eh?

Conrad.

Yes, your Excellency.

Kellinghausen.

That's what we always had at Bismarck's. H'm--in those days there was a power in the land. It weighed on us rather heavily at times, but we were none the worse for it. Your health, Richard, my dear fellow! Gentlemen, your healths! How deuced quiet you all are! You look as if I'd invited you to my own funeral. Good Lord, if you knew how glad I am to have got the Reichstag off my shoulders!--The other day, down at the polls, I said to one of our Lengenfeld peasants: "My dear friend--" (they're all our dear friends at election-time; we even have to put up with being _their_ dear friends). "My dear friend," said I, "I hope you're going to vote for my successor?"--"What will he give me for it?" says he. "What will the Socialist give you?" said I. "The Socialist will call you all names, and I like to hear you called names. It makes me laugh," the fellow answered. And he was right. We must amuse the masses and they'll love us. Circus-riding, my dear friends that's all the nobility are good for!

Brachtmann.

We shall miss your cheerful view of life, my dear Kellinghausen.

Kellinghausen.

H'm--that's about the only epitaph I can hope for. Ha! ha!--Well--I say, Richard, what sort of a fellow is that Meixner? (_The others look up quickly_.) Wasn't he your secretary at one time?

Richard.

Yes.

Kellinghausen.

How long ago?

Richard.

It must be ten or twelve years.

Kellinghausen.

Well, he has certainly profited by the training you gave him. He's raving against you like a madman.

Richard.

Did you happen to run across him?

Kellinghausen.

Heaven forbid!

Richard.

Did you hear what he said?

Kellinghausen.

Yes; Holtzmann told me about him. And I've had a lot of his speeches and proclamations sent to me. Capital stuff for lighting the fire. Well, thank the Lord, it's all over.

Richard.

I wish I knew how to thank you, Michael----

Kellinghausen.

Nonsense. None of that. By the way, I picked up a pamphlet in the train to-day--"The Ordeal" or some such name. Holtzmann tells me that Norbert wrote it. Is that true? (Richard _nods_.)

Brachtmann.

Ah, indeed--your son wrote----?

Kellinghausen.

I say, Richard, you give him a long rein, don't you?

Richard.

My dear Michael, the chief thing I have to thank my father for is that he gave _me_ one. I vowed long ago that Norbert should have as much freedom as I had.

Kellinghausen.

Well, we shall have to take the young scamp in hand before long.

Richard.

I wish you would. I should like to know who has put him up to this. He won't tell me.

_Enter_ Beata, _with_ Baron Ludwig von Voelkerlingk.

Beata.

May we join you? Don't let us break up your party.

Baron Ludwig.

(_Advancing toward the other men_.) Will you allow me?

Beata (_to_ Michael, _in a low tone_).

Well, are you enjoying yourself?

Kellinghausen.

Immensely, dear, immensely.

Beata.

Did you like the way I arranged the seats at table?

Kellinghausen.

Couldn't have been better. The brothers not too close together, yet near enough to talk. Now you must follow it up, and get them to make friends--eh?

Beata.

That is what I've come for. (_To_ Richard.) My dear Voelkerlingk, I want to speak to you.

Kellinghausen.

(_To_ Richard, _as he approaches_.) Mind you obey orders, now! (_Joins the others_.)

Richard.

I am glad you are not too tired, Beata.

Beata.

I've been growing stronger every day since the elections. But you must take some notice of Leonie, Richard. She is saying things.

Richard.

Let her. It's her specialty.

Beata.

Every one knows that she never comes here, and her being here to-night is making people talk.

Baron Ludwig.

(_Approaching his brother, evidently at_ Kellinghausen's _instigation_.) Ah, here are the two friends talking together.

Beata.

(_Looking from one brother to the other_.) And the two enemies, too--thank heaven!

Baron Ludwig.

The Countess is right, Richard. It was foolish of us not to speak to each other.

Richard.

My dear Ludwig, perhaps we hadn't enough to say.

Baron Ludwig.

Or too much!

Richard.

Possibly. (_To_ Beata.) But, Countess----

Beata (_turning to join the others_).

No, no. I am going to leave you two together. (_She moves away_.)

Richard.

Why do you look at her so strangely?

Baron Ludwig.

Strangely? What do you mean?

Richard.

You begrudge me this friendship, Ludwig.

Baron Ludwig.

Do I? Perhaps. You must remember that I am very lonely. I had hoped that your house might----

Richard.

My house? With Leonie----?

Baron Ludwig.

Yes--your friend is different from Leonie.

Richard.

You needn't envy me, Ludwig. My friend is a dying woman. Every day I ask myself if I shall ever see her again.

Baron Ludwig.

My dear Richard, the woman lives in a thousand energies. She will survive us both.

Richard.

God grant it!

Baron Ludwig.

But--be on your guard.

Richard.

What do you mean?

Baron Ludwig.

(_Glancing at_ Kellinghausen.) Can we find a quiet corner somewhere? (_He takes_ Richard's _arm and they go toward the other room_.)

_Enter_ Leonie, _on_ Norbert's _arm_.

Leonie (_meeting the brothers_).

What a touching spectacle! Look, Norbert!

Baron Ludwig.

Don't detain us, Leonie. We're going to have our photograph taken. (_He and_ Richard _go out_.)

Leonie (_advancing toward the front_).

How enchanting! And Beata as the angel of peace! Quite a new role for you, isn't it, dear? But you're _so_ versatile!

Beata.

Dear Leonie, find fault with me when I sow discord, but praise me when I make peace.

Leonie.

Do you care so much for praise?

Beata.

Don't you?

Leonie.

Oh, no one ever praises me. I suppose I don't know how to play my cards. Norbert, please have the carriage called.

Norbert.

Very well, mother. (_Goes out_.)

Leonie.

Ah, Prince--good-evening! (_He kisses her hand_.) How is it we never see you at our missionary meetings? Her Royal Highness wished me to say that she counts on your help. Isn't that flattering? (_To the others_.) The Prince is one of us, you know. He serves the cause of religion faithfully----

Prince.

And in poverty of spirit. That's my special merit, you know, Baroness.

Brachtmann (_aside to the_ Prince).

You reprobate!

Leonie.

But pray don't let me disturb you, for I must really be off. My carriage is waiting, and my coachman is so cross. We're all the slaves of our carriages. (_To_ Kellinghausen.) It has been so delightful--dear Beata is such a wonderful hostess. Our great stateswoman knows so well how to keep her party in hand. Willingly or unwillingly, she makes them all come into line; don't you, Beata, dear?

Beata.

I'm afraid you are among the unwilling to-night, Leonie.

Leonie.

Oh, I'm not as adaptable as some of your friends.

Brachtmann (_aside to the_ Prince).

Do you hear those amenities?

Prince (_to_ Brachtmann).

The Baroness is dispensing Christian charity sprinkled with arsenic. Let's efface ourselves. (_They move quietly into the background_.)

Leonie.

(_To_ Kellinghausen, _with whom she has been talking_.) No, no, my dear Count you mustn't think of it. Norbert will put me in my carriage. And meanwhile, I want to have a little chat with dear Beata. We always have so many things to say to each other.

Kellinghausen (_kissing her hand_).

At your orders, my dear friend. I'll draw the curtain to protect your _tete-a-tete_. (_He draws the curtain between the columns and goes out_.)

Leonie.

How wonderfully well you look to-night, Beata! Not in the least like a prospective grandmother.

Beata.

Why, as to that, Leonie, it looks as though you and I were to be made grandmothers on the same day.

Leonie.

Ah, really? Well, Ellen is a delightful child. Where is she, by the way? You don't seem to care to let her be seen in your neighbourhood on such occasions.

Beata.

Seen? In my neighbourhood? You have an odd way of putting things. But I believe you had something to say to me.

Leonie.

I know I oughtn't to keep you from your other guests, but it's such a pleasure to have you to myself. I wonder what has become of Norbert?--I must say, Beata, I can't help admiring your self-possession. I don't see how you can be so unconcerned.

Beata.

What should I be concerned about?

Leonie.

Why, you don't mean--? I should almost think you-- But I don't know how to express myself. It's so very painful.--There are such dreadful people in the world.

Beata.

Are there?

Leonie.

This former secretary of Richard's, for instance, who has made such a shocking speech against him. You've received a copy, of course?

Beata.

Not that I know of.

Leonie (_drawing a paper from her pocket_).

Ah--I brought mine with me. Perhaps it might interest you.

Beata.

Not in the least, my dear.

Leonie.

You are mentioned in it, too.

Beata (_smiling_).

Really?

Leonie.

Only between the lines, of course.

Beata.

Between the lines? What do you mean?

Leonie.

This is the paragraph; the one marked with a blue pencil. Don't be horrified. It will make you laugh, of course. I laughed over it myself. (Beata _takes the paper, looking firmly at_ Leonie _as she does so. She reads the paper, throws it aside, and looks at_ Leonie _again, without speaking_.) Good heavens, how pale you are! I didn't realise-- Shall I get you a glass of water?

Beata.

No, thanks. (_Controlling herself with an effort_.) Does Richard know of this?

Leonie.

Oh, yes. Doesn't Michael?

Beata.

Certainly not.--He would have-- Will you let me have this paper?

Leonie.

To show Michael?

Beata.

Naturally. In a matter involving his honour----

Leonie.

You don't mean to make a scandal?

Beata.

What do you call a scandal? Haven't you made one in bringing me this?

Leonie.

I mean that your husband might----

Beata.

My husband will do as he sees fit.

Leonie.

You are very sure of yourself.

Beata.

My dear Leonie, remember that you are in my house.

Leonie.

My dear Beata, we are always in each other's houses; we can't meet at the street corners, like servants.

Beata.

You are right. Say what you were going to say.

Leonie.

Oh, I have held my tongue so long!

Beata.

Why have you, if you had anything to say?

Leonie.

Listen, Beata. I am not going to discuss the relations between my husband and yourself. It's a subject that no longer interests me. But it was you who took him away from me, and when I found you had taken him, I turned to my boy instead. Then you took him too. Now I have nothing left--nothing but my position in society, which I have built up slowly, year by year, by my own efforts, as you know. I am in the Princess Agnes's most intimate set, I am patroness of--but all this doesn't interest you. But how have I accomplished it? Simply by keeping my eyes shut and appearing to sanction your friendship with Richard.--And now, if you persist in dragging your husband in, there will be a scandal, and I shall have to sue for a divorce; and that will be excessively unpleasant for us all. Don't you agree with me?

Beata.

I might say so many things in reply.--In the first place, whatever I have taken was never really yours.--But no matter. I will only ask you one thing: have you thought of Ellen and Norbert?

Leonie.

Oh, Ellen and Norbert! I've no objection to the match, none whatever--but it's _your_ scheme, not mine, and you can't expect me to be particularly enthusiastic about it. But I should think it would be one more reason for _you_ to keep quiet.

Beata.

Then--if you don't mean to do anything--why did you bring me this?

Leonie (_with irrepressible triumph_).

Why did I bring it? Because I--(_relapses into her usual amiability_)--I thought it might interest you, and you see I was not mistaken. Ah, here comes Norbert!

_Enter_ Norbert.

Norbert.

I'm sorry to have kept you, mother. The carriage was-- (_Startled_.) Why, Aunt Beata, what's the matter?

Beata (_making an effort to smile_).

Nothing, Norbert, dear.

Leonie.

Well, good-bye, Beata. Do be careful of yourself! I should be so sorry to think I had done anything to excite you. Come, Norbert, you must put me in the carriage, and then you can come back to your dear aunt.

Norbert.

I beg your pardon, mother, but I think Aunt Beata needs me now. If you'll wait for me a moment downstairs----

Leonie.

What did I say? I congratulate you, Beata! (_She goes out alone_.)

Norbert.

What has she been saying to you?

Beata.

Oh, she was right--so right!

Norbert (_alarmed_).

Aunt Beata!

Beata (_with an effort_).

Norbert--my son--take me to Ellen. In a few minutes I shall be quite----

Norbert.

Come, come-- (_Leads her gently out. Sounds of talk and laughter come from the inner room_.)

_Enter_ Kellinghausen.

Kellinghausen.

(_Putting his head through the curtains_.) Ha! No one there? Have our wives made way with each other? (_To_ Richard, _who has followed him_.) They're not so deuced fond of one another. I say, old man, just now, when I was talking about the elections, why did you all put on that air of statesmanlike reserve? Did I say anything out of the way?

Richard.

What an absurd idea!

Kellinghausen.

One is always liable to make an ass of one's self. I'm not conscious of having blundered, but--oh, well, I sha'n't get anything out of you. (_Raising the curtain and calling out_--) Brachtmann--Usingen--come here a moment.

Richard.

Michael, if you take my advice we'll drop the election for the present. I give you my word that if anything occurs that reflects on you----

Kellinghausen.

On me? Reflects on me? What on earth do you mean? I'm thinking of the party. Our business is to look out for the party.

_Enter_ Brachtmann _and the_ Prince, _followed a moment or two later
by_ Norbert.

Brachtmann.

Hear, hear! But what are you talking about?

Kellinghausen (_to_ Norbert).

Aha, young man, where have you come from? Tea in the school-room, eh?

Norbert.

Aunt Beata was not very well, Uncle Michael. (Richard _starts_.)

Kellinghausen.

Ah?

Norbert.

She is feeling better now. She will be here in a few minutes.

Kellinghausen.

That's good--that's good. By the way, Master Norbert, we're going to put you through your paces. How about this so-called "Ordeal," eh? Do you own up to it?

Norbert.

I'm proud to, Uncle. At least, no--not so very proud; for I've found out lately that it's all been said before, a thousand times better than I've said it.

Brachtmann.

And also by a member of the Conservative party?

Norbert.

Well--no--not exactly.

Brachtmann.

Ah--but that's the point.

Norbert.

I beg your pardon, Herr von Brachtmann, I thought truth was truth, no matter who uttered it.

Prince.

What is truth? said Pilate.

Norbert.

And washed his hands. We also wash our hands of many things, your Highness. I have even heard it said that the use of soap and water is the only thing that distinguishes us from the masses. But no matter how much washing we do, we can't wash off the blood we have shed in the abuse of our class-privileges.

Prince (_to_ Richard).

Very neatly parried. He has a good wrist.

Richard.

My dear Norbert, will you give your venerable parent a hearing? We have left far behind us many of what you call our "class-privileges"; but their traditional spirit still survives. And that spirit, whether the modern world condemns it, or the middle-classes make it ridiculous by aping it--that spirit is the safeguard of our order. Believe me, Norbert, we must stand or fall by it.

Norbert.

Then we must fall, father.

Richard.

Possibly--even probably. But meanwhile the one distinction we have left is the right to dispose of our lives. When a nobleman of the Italian Renaissance, or a young blade of the court of Louis XIII., crossed the threshold of his house, he was never sure of re-entering it alive. That was what gave him his audacity, his splendid indifference to danger. Today we no longer stake our lives so lightly; but the fact that they are ours to stake still gives its keenest edge to living.

The Others.

Hear! Hear!

Norbert.

My dear father, you have given us an admirable explanation of the personal view of death. But life is not a personal matter at all. You have said so often enough. Our lives belong to the ideals for which we fight, they belong to the state or to the race----

Kellinghausen.

And how about our personal sense of honour? What of that, Norbert? Are we to be forbidden to defend with our lives the few things we hold sacred on earth? May we no longer fall upon the scoundrel who assails them? You will hardly convince us of that, Norbert.

Richard.

Then again, Norbert, there may be cases--you are too young to have foreseen them, but they exist--where an honourable man may have done irreparable injury to another's honour. If he admits his guilt, and satisfaction is demanded of him, what is he to do? Is he to run away, or to shelter himself behind the law? The law, which was made to protect the honour of serfs! Should you expect that of him, Norbert?

Norbert.

If your man of honour admits his guilt, and is ready to pay the penalty, let him be his own judge.

Richard.

H'm----

Norbert.

But I beg your pardon, father; that is hardly the point. It was all very well for the aristocracy to make its own laws when it had the power to enforce them; but what is to become of its precious "class-privileges" when the modern world laughs at them and the mob refuses to recognise them? When that day comes, I don't see what we can do but take shelter behind the law.

Kellinghausen.

I don't understand you, Norbert. Give us an instance.

Norbert.

Nothing easier, Uncle Michael. What do you propose to do with the scoundrel who has been insulting you in his electioneering speeches? (_There is a startled movement among his listeners_.) You don't mean to challenge _him_, I suppose?

Kellinghausen.

What do you----?

Norbert.

Unless you treat the whole matter with silent contempt and I fancy you'll hardly do that it seems to me that a libel suit is the only alternative.

Kellinghausen.

Norbert--are you dreaming--or----

Norbert.

Why--Uncle Michael--didn't you know?

Prince.

_Now_ you've done it, young man!

Kellinghausen.

Do any of you know what he's driving at?

Brachtmann.

Yes.

Kellinghausen.

Richard, what does this mean? What is going on behind my back? You call yourself my friend--why have you kept me in the dark?

Richard (_very quietly_).

In the first place, dear Michael, we only heard of the business an hour or two ago; in the second place (_as he speaks_, Beata _enters from behind_), I am mixed up in it myself.

Kellinghausen.

You? In a slander that concerns me? (Richard _nods without speaking_.) Then there was all the more reason----

Brachtmann.

My dear Kellinghausen, the fault is mine. For the sake of the party, I asked Voelkerlingk not to--

Prince (_suddenly noticing_ Beata).

H'm. Perhaps we had better-- (_he advances toward_ Beata). My dear Countess----

Beata _enters quietly_.

Beata.

Don't be afraid. I know what you are speaking of. I know all about it. Michael, if these gentlemen would allow us to talk the matter over by ourselves----

Kellinghausen.

Thank you, my dear. But I think you had better keep out of it. Richard--Brachtmann--if you'll come to my study---- (_They both assent_.)

Richard (_approaching_ Beata).

I will say good-night, Countess.

Beata.

Good-night, my dear Voelkerlingk. (_Rapidly, in a low voice, as he bends above her hand_.) Does he know?

Richard (_in the same tone_).

Not yet.

Beata (_aloud, with conventional cordiality_).

I shall see you to-morrow? (Richard _bows, and follows the other men toward the door_.)

Curtain.

ACT III