Chapter VI: Act V

_The dining-room at_ Count Kellinghausen's. _In the middle of the stage a table with six covers. On the right a sofa, table, and chairs. Sideboard on the left. In the centre at the back a wide door leading into the drawing-room. Door on the right into anteroom, door on the left into inner apartments. A window on the right, in the foreground. Grey light of a winter's day_. Ellen _is busy arranging the flowers on the table_. Conrad _in the background. Enter_ Beata _from the left_.

Ellen.

Oh, mother, I'm so glad you've come. Will the flowers do?

Beata.

Beautifully, dear. (Conrad _goes out_.)

Ellen.

And the cards? Look--I've put you here, of course, with Baron Ludwig on your right, and Prince Usingen on your left.--Mother! You're not listening.

Beata.

Yes I am. But Brachtmann is older than the Prince. They must change places.

Ellen.

Very well. And this is Uncle Richard's seat, next to father's.

_Enter_ Kellinghausen.

Kellinghausen.

What about father?

Ellen.

I was only saying that I had put Uncle Richard next to you.

Kellinghausen.

Next to me?--Yes, yes; of course. Quite right. (_He pets her_.) Now, you monkey, be off!

Beata.

I shall see you before luncheon, dear.

Ellen.

Yes, mother. (_Goes out_.)

Kellinghausen.

I came to speak to you about our arrangements. I have just received a telegram from Rossitsch. Your rooms are ready for you. To prevent any talk, I shall take you there and leave you. I suppose you are ready to start this evening?

Beata.

Whenever you please, dear Michael.

Kellinghausen.

You don't seem to have made any preparations.

Beata (_smiling_).

I have so few to make!

Kellinghausen.

I have no objection to Ellen's remaining with you till the spring. Then we can see about sending her to a boarding-school.

Beata.

I consent to that too.

Kellinghausen.

You could hardly expect your refusal to make much difference.

Beata (_still smiling_).

Don't be afraid. I understand my position.

Kellinghausen.

And who is to blame for it?

Beata.

My dear Michael, we neither of us care for tragedy. Why not let that be?

Kellinghausen.

You're right.--Where have you put my seat?

Beata.

Here.

Kellinghausen.

Another torture to undergo!

Beata.

Isn't it more than you can bear?

Kellinghausen.

Perhaps--but it can't be helped. I had to have these people--I've got to go through with it.

Beata.

Yes, you've got to go through with it. And so have I. I need them more than you do.

Kellinghausen.

You? Why?

Beata.

You will see later.

Kellinghausen.

You have no right to keep anything from me----

Beata.

Are you keeping nothing from _me_? (_He turns away_.) Michael, here is a letter in which I have written something I can't well say to you. Will you promise not to open it till luncheon is over?

Kellinghausen.

Yes.

Beata.

You give me your word?

Kellinghausen.

Yes.

Beata (_giving him the letter_).

Here it is.

Kellinghausen.

Thank you. Then--I suppose--we-- (_Goes to the door_.)

Beata.

Michael!

Kellinghausen.

Eh?

Beata.

You know I'm not very strong--oh, don't misunderstand me! I'm not trying to work on your feelings--but you know how much is at stake. If Richard Voelkerlingk should die suddenly, and I----

Kellinghausen (_tortured_).

I beg of you, Beata! I----

Beata.

Well?

Kellinghausen.

Go on.

Beata.

You had something to say.

Kellinghausen (_confused_).

I--I was only going to tell you--that there will be no duel.

Beata.

Ah.--Then the danger I spoke of is removed, and I----

_Enter_ Conrad.

Conrad.

His Highness Prince Usingen and Baron Brachtmann are in the drawing-room.

Kellinghausen.

I will come at once. (Conrad _goes out_.)

Beata.

If you don't mind I will join you at table.

Kellinghausen.

You are not well.

Beata (_carelessly_).

It's nothing to speak of. Don't keep them waiting.--(Kellinghausen _stands before her, shaken with tearless sobs_. Beata _goes up to him and lays her hand softly on his arm_.) Michael, dear, when I think how I have hurt you I should like to fall down before you and kiss your hands--I should like to show you--what is in my heart--but it's too late to say such things now----

Kellinghausen.

Good-bye. (_He goes out_. Beata _rings and_ Conrad _enters_.)

Beata.

Ask Countess Ellen to bring me my drops. (Conrad _goes out_. Beata _stretches out her arms and passes her hands over her face_.)

_Enter_ Ellen.

Ellen (_in the doorway_).

Mother! Are you ill? (Beata _stretches out her arms again, half beckoning_ Ellen, _half warding her off_. Ellen, _hastening to her_.) Mother! Mother! what is it?

Beata (_softly_).

Nothing, nothing. (_She strokes_ Ellen's hair, _lets her arms slip gradually from the girl's shoulders, and finds the phial containing the drops in her left hand. A long shudder_.) Give me the drops.

Ellen.

How you snatch! Here they are. (Beata _turns the phial about in her hand_.) Mother, are we really going to Rossitsch, this evening?

Beata (_nodding_).

Yes.

Ellen.

In midwinter? Why do we go?

Beata.

H'm----

Ellen.

What will Norbert say? It looks as though you wanted to separate us----

Beata.

Does it? Does it really look so?

Ellen.

No, no, no--forgive me! No.

Beata.

But others might want to separate you--for life--for life, Ellen! Do you understand?

Ellen.

Mother!

Beata.

Shall I tell you what to do if ever that happens? Wait till you are of age, and then go to him wherever he is, and say: "My mother sent me." Do you see?

Ellen.

Yes, yes--but why----?

Beata.

By and by, at Rossitsch, I'll tell you. When we sit together in the big hall, over the fire, with the wind singing in the chimney. You'll like that, won't you, dear? We'll be so jolly together, you and I. And now, darling, go. (_Passionately_.) No, come back-- (_kissing her) and now-- (_smiling at her) go dear, go! (Ellen _goes out_.)

_Enter_ Conrad.

Beata.

Has every one come?

Conrad.

All but Baron Richard.

Beata.

You may announce luncheon, then. (Conrad _goes out. A moment later he throws open the doors, and_ Baron Ludwig, Prince Usingen, Baron Brachtmann, _and_ Kellinghausen _enter_.)

Beata.

Prince--Herr von Brachtmann--how do you do? (_To_ Baron Ludwig.) Your Excellency, you are to sit on my right.

Baron Ludwig.

You do me too much honour. (Conrad _closes the folding-doors_.)

Kellinghausen.

And now, gentlemen, shall we begin _a la Russe_, with a little caviare? (_He leads the others to the table near the sofa, where cold dishes and liqueurs are set out_.)

Prince.

Your true German can't abide a Russian, but we all adore their caviare.

Baron Ludwig.

Where can my brother be? The feast is given for him and he is the last to appear.

Brachtmann.

He's probably doing what we all do the day after. Poring over the papers.

Prince.

And wondering how it is that yesterday's laurels have already turned into thorns.

Baron Ludwig.

Ah, that's part of the game.

Prince.

No, it's the end of the game.

Beata.

What do you mean, Prince?

Prince.

That our growth ceases when we gain our end. Attainment means being nailed fast--nailed to a cross, sometimes!

Kellinghausen.

(_While_ Conrad _hands about glasses of wine_.) Gentlemen, won't you drop your epigrams and try some of my port?

Prince.

It's his Excellency's doing. He always begins!

_Enter a footman_.

The Footman.

Baron Richard von Voelkerlingk. (_There is an expectant murmur_.)

_Enter_ Richard.

Brachtmann (_aside to_ Prince).

I told you there was nothing wrong.

Prince.

Wait and see.

Richard (_kissing_ Beata's _hand_).

Forgive my being so late. A dozen things turned up at the last moment. Excuse me, Michael. (_The_ Prince _makes a sign to_ Brachtmann.)

Kellinghausen.

(_Shaking hands composedly with_ Richard.) Don't mention it, my dear fellow. We are lucky to get you at all. The man of the hour you can't have a moment to yourself.

Richard.

I've not had many yet. (_Shakes hands with him again and then turns to the others_.)

Beata.

Shall we have luncheon? Voelkerlingk, you can join us when you've had your caviare. (Richard _makes a gesture refusing the hors-d'[oe]uvre_.)

Brachtmann (_aside to the_ Prince).

Well?

Prince.

Irreproachable, as usual.

Brachtmann.

Thank God! (_They all seat themselves_.)

Prince (_to_ Baron Ludwig).

I can't make your brother out. You know him better than we do. Look at his face--what's the matter with him?

Baron Ludwig.

We are such complicated machines, your Highness. It's impossible to explain any one with a word.

Beata.

Take a hundred, then. (_With a short excited laugh_.) Life is long enough!

Kellinghausen (_to himself_).

Yes. Life is long enough.

Richard.

Instead of discussing my appearance I wish you would criticise my speech.

Prince.

What a _gourmet_ he is, Countess! He wants the disapproval of his friends to season the praise of his enemies!

Richard.

Now, then, Brachtmann?

Brachtmann.

Why, my dear fellow, if you insist--I must tell you frankly that I had hoped you would lay more stress on the view of marriage as a divine institution.

Richard.

I have the greatest respect for that view of marriage, but I fear it might have invalidated the scientific side of my argument. What do you say, Prince?

Prince.

And what if it did? It's much more gratifying to our vanity to think ourselves the objects of divine solicitude than the victims of natural law. (Brachtmann _and_ Baron Ludwig _protest_. Beata _laughs_.)

Kellinghausen.

Really, Usingen----!

Baron Ludwig.

Isn't your Highnesses scepticism a little overdone? Surely society has made us the natural protectors of the social order. The order may change with the times--all we ask is that it should maintain the moral balance of power. (Beata _laughs_.) You are amused, Countess?

Beata (_still laughing_).

I was only laughing to think how often I'd heard it before--the moral balance of power, and all the rest! I'm sure our ancestors sang the same song when they threw their victims to Moloch. And our souls are still thrown by the million to the Moloch of social expediency. We are all expected to sacrifice our personal happiness to the welfare of the race! (_She laughs excitedly_.)

Kellinghausen (_almost threateningly_).

Beata!

Baron Ludwig.

Countess, you are conjuring up a phantom.

Beata.

It may be a phantom, but it has us by the throat.--(_To_ Richard.) What are you thinking of, Voelkerlingk? You are not going to refuse our celebrated game-pie?

Richard.

I beg your pardon. I wasn't thinking. (_He helps himself to the dish_.)

Beata.

You must know that that pie is an invention of my own!

Prince.

Dear me, Countess, are you at home in every branch of learning?

Beata.

Oh, I had the making of a great cook in me. I believe I'm the last of the old school--the model housekeeper, the domestic wife, the high-priestess of the family! (_She goes on laughing excitedly and_ Michael _nervously echoes her laugh_.)

Richard.

(_Making a perceptible effort to change the conversation_.) My dear Countess, no one ever ventures to dispute your statements. But there is one family about which I want to say a word and that is the one we are in. (_Rising_.) I drink to the house of Kellinghausen!

The Others.

Hear--hear!

Richard.

The house of Kellinghausen! As I look back over my life, I don't know how to sum up all I owe to it. (_He turns to_ Beata.) To you, my dear friend----

Kellinghausen (_with forced gaiety_).

Is this a settlement in full, my dear fellow?

Richard.

(_Taken aback, but recovering himself instantly_.) You're right, Michael. There's no use trying; but there's something I want to say to you.

Kellinghausen.

Hear! hear!

Richard (_to the others_).

Since yesterday, you all know what I owe him. My success is his doing, all his doing. If I've gained my end, if I've reached the goal at last, it's to Kellinghausen I owe it. Here's to my good friend and yours!

The Others.

Hear! Hear! (_They clink their glasses_.)

Kellinghausen.

(_With a strained laugh, as he and_ Richard _touch glasses_.) You might have left that out.

Richard.

I should have written it if I hadn't said it.

Kellinghausen (_still on his feet_).

Gentlemen--Beata--I may speak for all of you, I believe? I think our friend Voelkerlingk proved conclusively yesterday that if he has taken my place it is because he has the best right to it. (_On the verge of an outburst_.) A better right to it--than-- (_He is checked by a terrified glance from_ Beata, _who utters a low exclamation_.) Well--well--I'm not much of a speech-maker.--Gentlemen--Beata--long life to our friend Voelkerlingk--long life to my successor!

Beata.

(_In a low voice, while the others gather about_ Richard.) Long life to him! (_She presses her hand to her heart, and rests heavily against the arm of her chair_.)

Prince (_to_ Kellinghausen).

Is anything wrong with the Countess?

Kellinghausen.

Beata!

Beata (_raising herself with a smile_).

Yes?

Kellinghausen.

Would you not rather go into the drawing-room? You look tired. (_She shakes her head_.)

Richard.

(_In a formal tone, with a glance at_ Michael.) We all beg of you, Countess----

Beata.

(_Looking from one to the other with growing apprehension_.) No--no--no--I'm quite--quite--on the contrary--_I_ have a toast to propose. (Richard _makes a startled gesture_.) Yes--a toast of my own! But please all sit down first----

Prince.

Woman disposes!

Kellinghausen.

Beata, you are overtaxing yourself. Be careful.

Beata.

My dear friends, you all go on wishing each other a long life but which of us is really alive? Which of us really dares to live? Somewhere, far off in the distance, we catch a glimpse of life--but we hide our eyes and shrink away from it like transgressors. And that's our nearest approach to living! Do you really think you're alive--any one of you? Or do you think I am? (_She springs up with an inspired look_.) But I, at least--I--whose whole life is one long struggle against death--I who never sleep, who hardly breathe, who barely stand--I at least know how to laugh, how to love life and be thankful for it! (_She staggers to her feet, raising her glass, her voice no more than a hoarse whisper_.) And as the only living soul among you, I drink to the joy of living!

The Others (_holding out their glasses_).

Good! Good! Bravo!

Beata.

(_Draws a deep breath, sets down her glass, and looks about her confusedly. Her eyes rest on_ Richard, _and then turn to_ Michael, _to whom she speaks_.) I think I will take your advice and go into the other room for a little while. (_She rises with an effort_.)

Kellinghausen.

There, Beata! I warned you.

Baron Ludwig (_offering her his arm_).

Won't you take my arm, Countess?

Beata.

No, no--thanks! Michael, make my excuses. I shall be back in a few minutes. (_She lingers in the doorway with a last smile and a last look at_ Richard.) Good-bye. I shall be back--in a few minutes. (_Goes out_.)

Kellinghausen (_to the others_).

Don't be alarmed. My wife often breaks down in this way--I knew by her excitement that it was coming. Please sit down again. I assure you that in a few minutes she--(_A heavy fall is heard in the next room_. Richard _starts violently_. Michael _half springs from his seat, but controls himself with an effort. There is a short pause_.)--she'll be coming back laughing as usual. (_Whispers are heard behind the door to the left_. Richard _is seen to listen intently_.) What are you listening to? What's the matter?

Richard (_agitated_).

I beg your pardon--I thought I-- (Ellen _is heard to utter a piercing scream. The men start to their feet_. Michael _rushes out_.)

Baron Ludwig.

Surely that was Countess Ellen's voice?

Prince.

It doesn't look as if the Countess were going to come back laughing as usual.

Michael _enters with a ghastly face_.

Kellinghausen (_hoarsely_).

The nearest doctor--any one--quick! (_Goes out again_. Richard _makes a motion as though to follow him, then turns and rushes out of the door to the right_.)

Brachtmann.

The Countess is subject to such attacks; but this seems--different.

Prince.

H'm--yes--quite so. (_There is a long silence_.)

Brachtmann (_to_ Baron Ludwig).

Your brother may not be able to find a doctor.

Baron Ludwig.

We must hope for the best. (_Another silence_.)

Prince.

Perhaps we had better be going----

Brachtmann.

(_Nods his assent; then to_ Baron Ludwig.) Are you coming?

Baron Ludwig.

I shall wait for my brother. (_He shakes hands with them_.)

Prince.

H'm. (_He and_ Brachtmann _go out_. Baron Ludwig _walks up and down the room shaking his head_.)

_Enter_ Conrad.

Baron Ludwig.

Well?

Conrad.

I can't say yet, your Excellency. (_He goes to the table_.) We are looking for the drops. Countess Ellen gave them to the Countess herself before luncheon.

Baron Ludwig.

I thought I saw something in her hand at luncheon. Has any one looked in her hand?

Conrad.

No. (_He goes out. There is a pause_.)

_Enter_ Richard _and a doctor_.

Richard.

Well? Has anything----

Baron Ludwig.

Nothing.

Richard.

Will you come this way, doctor?

The Doctor.

Thank you. (Richard _and the doctor go out_. Baron Ludwig _continues to pace the floor_.)

_Enter_ Norbert _by door on the right_.

Norbert.

Uncle, what has happened? I've just met Brachtmann and Usingen. They said--uncle-- (Baron Ludwig _points silently to the door on the left_. Norbert _hurries through it. Another pause_. Baron Ludwig _continues to pace up and down. The doctor_, Richard _and_ Michael _come slowly into the room_.)

The Doctor (_after a silence_).

Count, I am extremely sorry to have come too late. But it may be some comfort to you to know that I could have done nothing. Death was the result of heart disease--the end must have been instantaneous. May I ask who was the Countess's regular physician?

Kellinghausen.

Dr. Kahlenberg.

The Doctor.

I will notify him at once. Permit me to offer my sympathy.

Kellinghausen.

Thank you, doctor. (_Shakes his hand and accompanies him to the door. The doctor goes out_. Baron Ludwig _shakes_ Kellinghausen's _hand silently, nods to_ Richard _and withdraws_.)

Richard.

Thank you, Michael--for letting me be with her----

Kellinghausen.

Read this. (_Hands him_ Beata's _letter_.)

Richard.

(_Takes the letter, shudders at sight of the handwriting, tries to read it, and then hands it back_.) I cannot----

Kellinghausen.

Then I will read it to you. It's meant for both of us. (_He reads_.) "Dear Michael, even if the poison is found in me they will think I took it by mistake. To avoid suspicion I shall do it while we are all at luncheon. I see that some one must pay the penalty--better I than he. He has his work before him--I have lived my life. And so I mean to steal a march on him. Whatever you have agreed upon between you, my death will cancel the bargain--he cannot die now without causing the scandal you have been so anxious to avert. I have always loved happiness, and I find happiness now in doing this for his sake, and the children's and yours. Beata." As she says, this cancels our agreement. You see that I must give you back your word.

Richard.

And you see, Michael----

_Enter_ Norbert.

Norbert.

(_Throws himself weeping into_ Kellinghausen's _arms_.) Uncle Michael!

Kellinghausen.

Go, my son--go to Ellen. (Norbert _wrings_ Richard's _hand without speaking, and goes out_.)

Richard.

And you see, Michael, that _I_ live because I must--that I live--because I am dead----

Curtain.

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