Chapter VII: Part 7

You'll soon find it comprehensible, I think. The discouraging attitude of Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg proves nothing at all in this connection, I must say. As long as Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg has not been set free by you--even if that be done against her own will--she is, in a sense, bound to you. To get this matter fully cleared up, it seems to me necessary that you yourself, my dear Master, insist on a divorce. Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg will not be in a position to choose freely until she has been divorced from you. Until then the struggle between us two will not be on equal terms--as, I trust, you would like to have it.

AMADEUS

There can be no talk of any struggle here. You misunderstand the actual state of affairs in a manner that seems to me incomprehensible. For I have no right to suppose that Cecilia has made any secret of the more deep-lying reasons that have so far prevented us from considering a dissolution of our marriage.

SIGISMUND

Certainly, I am aware of those reasons, but to me they don't by any means seem sufficiently pressing--not even from your own viewpoint--to exclude all thought of a divorce. And I am anxious to assure you that, under all circumstances, I shall feel bound to treat those reasons with the most profound respect.

AMADEUS

What do you mean?

SIGISMUND

You know, my dear Master, that the reverence I have for your art, even if I am not always capable of grasping it, equals the admiration I feel for the singing of Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg. I know how much you two mutually owe to each other, and how you--if I may say so--complement each other musically. And it would never occur to me to put any difficulties whatsoever in the way of your continued artistic relationship. I am equally aware of the tenderness with which you regard your child--for whom, by the way, as you probably know, I have a great deal of devotion--and I can give you my word that the doors leading to the quarters of little Peter will always stand open to you.

AMADEUS

In other words, you would have no objection to seeing the former husband of your--of the wife--of the Princess Lohsenstein, admitted to your house as a friend?

SIGISMUND

Any such objection would be regarded by me as an insult to your--to my--to Mrs. Cecilia Adams-Ortenburg, as well as to you, my dear Master. With those provisions made, the new arrangement, which I am taking the liberty to suggest, would be more sensible and--if you'll allow me a frank expression--more decent than the one to which all of us now have to submit. I am convinced, my dear Master, that, when you have had chance to consider the matter calmly, you will not only agree with me, but you will be surprised that this simple solution of an unbearable situation has not occurred to yourself long ago. As for me, I want to add that, to me personally, this solution seems the only possible one. Yes, I don't hesitate to say that I would leave the city, without hope of ever seeing Mrs. Cecilia again, rather than keep on compromising her in a manner that must be equally painful to all of us.

AMADEUS

Oh, has it come to that all at once? Well, if the matter doesn't trouble Cecilia or me, I think _you_ might well regard it with indifference. I hope you know that we have arranged our life to suit ourselves, without the least regard for popular gossip, and that I don't care at all whether or no Cecilia be compromised--as you call it.

SIGISMUND

I know you don't. But I feel differently. A lady to whom I'm so devoted, and whom I respect so highly that I would lead her to the altar, must appear spotless to God and man alike.

AMADEUS

You might have kept that in mind before. Your previous behavior has given no indication of such a view. You have been waiting for my wife in the immediate vicinity of the opera; you have been walking with her for hours at a time; you have visited her in the country; you have followed her to Berlin and come back here in her company....

SIGISMUND (_surprised_)

But it was in your power to stop all those things, if they didn't suit you....

AMADEUS

Stop them ... because they didn't suit...? What has that to do with what I am talking of?--I am not the person who has found this situation unbearable and compromising.

SIGISMUND

Oh, I understand. Considering, however, that you have placed such emphasis on your indifference to popular gossip, I must say that your tone sounds pretty excited. But permit me to assure you that this impresses me rather pleasantly. Bear in mind that I am merely human. What young man in my place would have refrained from meeting the adored one, when everything was rendered so easy for him? And nevertheless I didn't visit the Pustertal or make the tour to Berlin without an inward struggle--in fact, I have often had to struggle with myself while waiting for her near the opera. And I cannot tell you how I have suffered under the searching glances directed at Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg and myself when we were having supper together after one of the Berlin performances, for instance, or when we went for an afternoon drive in the Tiergarten.[7] Not to speak of the painful impression my aunt's remarks made on me when I called to bid her good-by! Really, I can't find words to express it.

[7] A large park in the center of Berlin, corresponding to
the Central Park of New York or the Hyde Park of London.

AMADEUS

How much longer do you mean to keep up this remarkable comedy, my dear Prince?

SIGISMUND (_drawing back_)

Do you mean....

AMADEUS

What in the world makes you appear before me in a part which I don't know whether to call tasteless or foolhardy?

SIGISMUND

Sir!... Oh...! You think.... I see now.... And you imagine that I would have crossed your threshold again under such circumstances?

AMADEUS

Why should _that_ particular thing not be imagined?

SIGISMUND

Later on we shall get back to what you think of me. But a third person is concerned in this matter, and I am not going to stand....

AMADEUS

May I ask whether you have been equally angry with everyone who has dared to question the virtue of Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg?

SIGISMUND

You are at least the first one who has dared to question it to my face, and the last one who may dare to do so unpunished.

AMADEUS

Do you think the punishment threatening the impertinent one in your mind will be apt to restore the reputation of Cecilia? Do you think it would put an end to the gossip if you, of all people, tried to champion the honor of Mrs. Adams-Ortenburg?

SIGISMUND

Who could, if not I?

AMADEUS

If it is _not_ a comedy you are now playing, then you haven't the right even!

SIGISMUND

Do you mean to say that Cecilia is the only woman in the world who must stand unprotected against _any_ slander?

AMADEUS

If you are telling the truth, Prince Sigismund, then there is only one person in the world who has the right to protect Cecilia, and that person am I.

SIGISMUND

Considering what has happened, I have excellent reason to think that you will neither avail yourself of that right nor fulfill that duty.

AMADEUS

You are mistaken. And if you will take the trouble of returning home, you will soon be convinced of your mistake.

SIGISMUND

What do you mean?

AMADEUS

I mean simply that two of my friends are now on their way to your house on my behalf....

SIGISMUND

Well...?

AMADEUS

To demand reparation for what ... (_looking Sigismund straight in the eye_) I believed you guilty of.

SIGISMUND (_takes a step back; a pause ensues during which they stare hard at each other_) You have challenged.... (_Reaching out his hand_) That's fine!

AMADEUS (_does not accept the proffered hand_)

SIGISMUND

But it's splendid! I can assure you that the whole matter now assumes quite a different aspect. And, of course, I shall be at your disposal just the same, if you insist.

AMADEUS (_draws a deep breath, looks long at Sigismund, and shakes his head at last_) No, I won't any longer. (_He shakes hands with him, and then begins walking to and fro, muttering to himself_) Cecilia.... Cecilia...! (_Returning to Sigismund and addressing him in a totally different tone_) Won't you please be seated, Sigismund?

SIGISMUND

No, thank you.

AMADEUS (_feeling repelled and suspicious again_)

Just as you please.

SIGISMUND

Don't misunderstand me, please. But I suppose this ends our conference, my dear Master. (_Looking around_) And yet I must admit that your rude treatment has made me feel a great deal more at ease. Isn't that strange? And in spite of the fact that, after this unexpected turn, my hopes must be held practically--I beg your pardon!--completely disposed of.... In spite of this I feel actually in much better spirits than I have done for a long time. Even if I am not to have the happiness of which I have foolishly dared to dream so long....

AMADEUS

Was it so very foolish?

SIGISMUND (_good-humoredly_)

Oh, yes. But this is at least an acceptable conclusion. (_Shaking his head_) It seems queer! If I hadn't come here at this very moment, you might never have learned--you might never have believed--might have believed that Cecilia.... And one of us might perhaps--must perhaps have.... (_He makes a gesture to complete the sentence_)

AMADEUS

It was indeed a strange coincidence that made you choose this particular moment....

SIGISMUND

Coincidence, you say? Oh, no, there are no coincidences--as you will discover sooner or later. (_Pause_) Well, good-by then, and give my regards to Mrs. ... Adams ...

AMADEUS

You can safely call her Cecilia.

SIGISMUND

... and tell her, please, that she mustn't be angry with me for having taken such a step without her knowledge. Of course, my going away won't surprise her. When leaving her yesterday, I told her that I couldn't continue this kind of existence.

AMADEUS

And she...? What did she say?

SIGISMUND (_hesitatingly_)

She....

AMADEUS (_excited again_)

She tried to keep you here...?

SIGISMUND

Yes.

AMADEUS

So that after all...!

SIGISMUND

Now she won't try any longer, my dear Master. (_With a wistful smile_) I have served my purpose.

AMADEUS

What do you mean?

SIGISMUND

Oh, I can see now why she needed me--of course, you were not at all aware of it!

AMADEUS

Why did she need you?

SIGISMUND

Simply and solely as a means of winning you back.

AMADEUS

What makes you think...?

SIGISMUND

What...? That she has succeeded.

AMADEUS

No, Sigismund--she hadn't lost me--in spite of all that had happened. In fact, I feel as if I had rather lost her than she--me.

SIGISMUND

That's awfully kind of you. But now--God be with you!

AMADEUS (_with something like emotion_)

And when shall we see you again?

SIGISMUND

I don't know. Perhaps never.---Please don't imagine that I might take my own life. I shall get over it, being still young.--Oh, my dear Master, if things could only become what they used to be, so that I could sit here at the fireplace while Cecilia was singing--or hammer away at the piano after supper...!

AMADEUS

Don't be quite so modest, please! The fame of your piano playing has reached Berlin even, I hear.

SIGISMUND

So she has told you that, too?!--But you see, dear Master, all that can never come back--we could no longer feel at ease with each other.... So--never to meet again!

AMADEUS

Never.... Why? Perhaps I shall see you very soon alone. I am also--going away.

SIGISMUND

I know. We were talking of it yesterday, in the dining car. You are to conduct your--number-which-one is it now?

AMADEUS

The fourth.

SIGISMUND

So you have got that far already?--And where are you going anyhow?

AMADEUS

To the Rhine district first of all; then by way of Munich to Italy--Venice, Milan, Rome.

SIGISMUND

Rome...? There we may possibly meet. But you'll have to pardon me for not coming to your concerts. So far I have not been able to understand your symphonies.... But I am sure I shall sometime! One does grow more and more clever, and sorrow and experiences in particular have a maturing influence.... "Now he's making fun of it," I suppose you are thinking. But, really, I am not in a very humorous mood. Farewell, my dear Master--and my most respectful compliments to your wife. (_He goes out_)

AMADEUS (_walks back and forth; takes a few deep breaths, as if relieved; goes out into the garden; returns; sits down at the piano and plays a few improvisations; gets up and goes to the writing desk, where he begins to look for something among the papers_) Where's that Solo? ... She's going to sing it, and I shall be present...! (_He seats himself at the piano again, apparently in a very happy mood_) Cecilia!... Cecilia!

CECILIA (_enters_)

AMADEUS (_rising_)

Ah, there you are at last, Cecilia!

CECELIA (_very calmly_)

Good-morning, Amadeus.

AMADEUS

A little late.

CECILIA (_smiling_)

Yes. (_She takes off her hat and goes to the mirror to arrange her hair_)

AMADEUS

What made you get out so early?

CECILIA

Various things I had to attend to.

AMADEUS

And may one ask...?

CECILIA

One may.--Look here, what I have got for you. (_She takes a letter from a small bag_)

AMADEUS

What's that? (_He takes it_) What...? My letter to Philine...! Did you go to her, Cecilia?

CECILIA

Well, I felt a little nervous about it. Now I think it was rather silly of me.

AMADEUS

And how...?

CECILIA

Oh, the simplest thing in the world! I asked her for it, and she gave it to me. It was lying in an open drawer in her writing desk--with others. I think you can call yourself lucky.

AMADEUS

Cecilia! (_He tears the letter to pieces and throws these into the fireplace_)

CECILIA

Well, you would never have made up your mind to demand it of her, and that would have kept me in a state of irritation. I can't have anything like that on my mind when I want to work.--And now that's settled. (_She turns away_) Then I went to the opera, too. I have had a talk with the Director. He's going to indorse my request to be set free.

AMADEUS

Your request to be set free...?

CECILIA

Yes, I shall go to Berlin on the first of January.

AMADEUS

But, Cecilia, we haven't talked it over yet....

CECILIA

What's the use of postponing a thing that's already settled in my own mind?--You know I never like to do that.

AMADEUS

But it means a whole year of separation!

CECILIA

To start with. But I think it might be just as well to prepare ourselves for a still longer period.

AMADEUS

Do you mean to leave me, Cecilia?!

CECILIA

What else can I do, Amadeus? That ought to be as clear to you as it is to me.

AMADEUS

So it would have been a little while ago, Cecilia. But I have come to see our future in a different light.... Cecilia ... Sigismund has been here!

CECILIA

Sigismund?!... You have talked with him?... What did he want?

AMADEUS

What did he want...? Your hand.

CECILIA

And you refused...?

AMADEUS

He is sending you his farewell greetings through me, Cecilia.

CECILIA

So that's what has put you in such a good humor all at once! (_Pause_) And if he hadn't come here?

AMADEUS

If he hadn't come here....

CECILIA

Speak out, please!

AMADEUS (_remains silent_)

CECILIA

You didn't mean to ... to fight him?

AMADEUS

I did. Albert was on his way to him at the time.

CECILIA

What vanity, Amadeus!

AMADEUS

No, not vanity, Cecilia. I love you.

CECILIA (_remains wholly unresponsive_)

AMADEUS

You can't guess, of course, what took place within me while his words were gradually bringing home the truth to me! Once more the doors of heaven have been thrown open to me!

CECILIA

The only thing you forget is that they must remain closed to me forever.

AMADEUS

Don't say that, Cecilia. What has happened to me in the past seems so very insignificant, after all.

CECILIA

Insignificant, you say?--And if it had happened to me, it would have been so significant that people should have had to kill or be killed on that account? How can you think then, that I might get over it so easily?

AMADEUS

How can I...? Because you have proved it already. You knew just what had happened, and yet you became mine again.... You knew that I had been faithless, while you had kept your faith, and yet....

CECILIA

You say that I have kept my faith?--No, I haven't! And even if I should seem faithful to you, I have long ago ceased to be so in my own mind. _I_ know the desires that have burned within me.... _I_ know how often my body has trembled and yearned in the presence of some man.... And what I told you last night--that I am waiting with wide-open arms, full of longings and expectations--that's true, Amadeus--no less true than it is that I am standing face to face with you now.

AMADEUS

If that be true, what has kept you from satisfying all your longings--you, who have been as free as I have?

CECILIA

I am a woman, Amadeus. And we seem to be like that. Something makes us hesitate even when we have already made up our minds.

AMADEUS

And because you seemed guilty in your own mind, you remained silent?... And for no other reason have you left me--me, whose sufferings you might have relieved by a single word--to believe you as guilty as myself?

CECILIA

Perhaps....

AMADEUS

And how long did you mean to let me go on believing that?

CECILIA

Until it became true, Amadeus.

AMADEUS

But there has been enough of it now, Cecilia. It will never become true ... never after this.

CECILIA

Where do you get that idea, Amadeus? It is going to be true. Do you think, perhaps, that all this was meant as a kind of ordeal for you? Do you think I was playing a childish comedy in order to punish you, and that now, when you have discovered the truth prematurely, I shall sink into your arms and declare everything right again? Have you really imagined that everything could now be forgotten, and that we might resume our marriage relations at the exact point where they were interrupted? How can you possibly have wished that such might be the case--so that our marriage would be like thousands of others, where both deceive each other, and become reconciled, and deceive each other again--just as the moment's whim happens to move them?

AMADEUS

We have neither deceived each other, nor become reconciled--we have been free, and have merely found each other again.

CECILIA

Each other, you say?... As if that were possible! What is it then, that has made me seem so desirable to you all at once? Not the fact that I am Cecilia--oh, no! But the fact that I seem to have come back another woman. And have I really become yours again? Not at all! Not unless you have grown so modest all at once that you can be satisfied with a happiness that might have fallen to somebody else perhaps, if he had merely chanced to be on hand at that particular moment.

AMADEUS (_shrinking back_)

But even if last night be sacrificed to this fixed idea of yours, Cecilia--it is daylight now--we are awake--and in this moment of clear light you must feel, no less than I, that we love each other, Cecilia--love as we have never loved before.

CECILIA

This moment might prove deceptive--and I am sure it would. No other moment would be more apt to prove such. Do you think those many moments in which we felt our tenderness gradually ebbing away--those many moments when we felt the lure of other loves--do you think them less worthy of consideration than this one? The only thing urging us together now is our fear of the final leave-taking. And our feelings at this moment make a pretty poor sample upon which to base an eternity. I don't trust them. What has happened once, may ... nay, must repeat itself--to-morrow--or two years from now--or five ... in a more indiscreet manner, perhaps, or in a manner more tragical--but certainly in a manner to be much more regretted.

AMADEUS

Oh, no--never again! Now--after what I have felt and experienced lately, I can vouch for myself.

CECILIA

I don't feel equally certain of myself, Amadeus.

AMADEUS

That doesn't scare me, Cecilia, for now I'm prepared to fight for you--now I'm worthy and capable of fighting for you. Hereafter you shall never more be left unprotected as you were in the past--my tenderness will guard you.

CECILIA

But I don't want to be guarded! I shall no longer permit you to guard me! And I can no more give you any promises than I care to accept yours.

AMADEUS

And if I should forgo them myself--if I should risk it on a mere uncertainty?

CECILIA

That's more than I dare--whether the risk concern you or myself ... more than I would risk even with certainty in mind. (_She turns away from him_)

AMADEUS

Then I cannot possibly understand you, Cecilia. What is it you want to make us pay for so dearly--yes, both of us? Is it our guilt or our happiness?

CECILIA

Why should either one of them be paid for? What's the use of such a word between us? Neither one of us has done anything that requires atonement. Neither one of us has any right to reproach the other one. Both of us have been free, and each one has used his freedom in accordance with his own desire and ability. I think nothing has happened but what must happen. We have trusted each other too much--or too little. We were neither made to love each other faithfully forever nor to maintain a pure friendship. Others have become resigned--I can't--and you mustn't allow yourself, Amadeus. Our experiment has failed. Let us admit our disillusionment. That can be borne. But I have no curiosity to find how it tastes when everything comes to an end in sheer loathing.

AMADEUS

Comes to an end, you say?--But that can't be possible, Cecilia! It can't be possible that we should really leave each other--part from each other like strangers! We are still face to face--each of us can feel the closeness of the other one--and that's why you cannot yet realize what it would mean. Consider all the things that might come into your life as well as into mine during a separation of that kind--so prolonged and so void of responsibility--things that now have no place in your imagination even, and for which there could be no reparation.

CECILIA

Could they be worse than what has already befallen me? Faithfulness to each other in the ordinary sense matters least of all, I should think. And we could probably more easily find our way back to each other sometime from almost any other experience than that adventure of last night, or from a moment of self-deception like this one.

AMADEUS

Find our way back, you say...?

CECILIA

It's also possible that, after a couple of years, we won't care to do so--that everything may be over between us to such an extent that we cannot imagine it now. That's possible, I say. But if we stayed together now, everything would be over within the next few seconds. For then we should be no better than all those we have despised hitherto--the one difference being that we had arranged ourselves more comfortably than the rest.

ALBERT (_entering_)

I beg your pardon for coming in unannounced like this, but....

CECILIA (_withdraws toward the background_)

AMADEUS (_going to meet Albert_)

Yes, I know--you didn't find the Prince--he has been here himself.

ALBERT

What does that mean?

AMADEUS

That there was no reason why I should want to kill him.

ALBERT

I see.--Well, I'll be hanged if I haven't suspected something of the kind myself!--Then I suppose everything is once more in perfect order in this house?

AMADEUS

Yes, in perfect order. When I return, Cecilia will be in Berlin, and I shall not follow her.

ALBERT

What? Then you are going to ask for a separation after all?

CECILIA (_approaching them_)

No, we are not going to ask for a separation. We'll just separate.

ALBERT

What?... (_He looks from one to the other; pause_) Really I like that. Indeed, I do. I think both of you are splendid--but especially you, Cecilia--and, of course, there is nothing else left for you to do now.

PETER (_enters, carrying some of his puppets_)

Papa! Mamma! I can play theater beautifully. Won't you come and look? Oh, please come!

CECILIA (_strokes his hair_)

AMADEUS (_remains standing at some distance from them_)

ALBERT

Well, isn't this just like life--the life you are always talking of! This should be the moment when you had to fall into each others' arms with absolute certainty, if you had had the luck to be imaginatively created--that is, not by me, of course.

CECILIA

No, the boy means too much to both of us to make that possible--don't you think so, Amadeus?

AMADEUS (_losing control of himself after a glance at Peter_) All at once to be alone in the world again--it's a thought I can hardly face!

CECILIA

But we shall be somewhere in that world, you know--your child, and the mother of your child. We are not parting as enemies, after all.... (_With a smile_) I am even ready to come here and sing that Solo of yours--although we shall not be able to study it together.

AMADEUS

It's more than I can bear...!

CECILIA

It will have to be borne. We must work--both of us.

ALBERT (_to Amadeus_)

Yes, and it remains to be seen what effect a real sorrow like this may have on you. It's just what you have lacked so far. I expect you'll get a lot out of it. In a sense, I might almost envy you.

PETER

What's the matter?... Look here, mamma, how they jump about! That's the king, and this is the devil.

ALBERT

Come on, sonny, and play your piece to _me_. But I insist that the hero must either marry in the end, or be carried off by the devil. In either case you can go home quite satisfied when the curtain drops. (_He goes out with Peter_)

CECILIA (_after a glance at Amadeus, starts to follow them_)

AMADEUS

Cecilia!

CECILIA (_turns back_)

AMADEUS (_passionately_)

Why didn't you show me the door, Cecilia, when you knew...?

CECILIA

Well, _did_ I know?... I have loved you, Amadeus. And all I wanted, perhaps, was that the inevitable end should be worthy of our love--that we should part after a final moment of bliss, and with a pang.

AMADEUS

With a pang, you say...? Do you really feel anything like that?

CECILIA (_coming close to him and speaking very gently_)

Why don't you try to understand me, Amadeus? I feel it just as keenly as you do. But there is another thing I feel more strongly than you, and it is well for us both that I do. It is this, Amadeus, that we have been so much to each other that we must keep the memory of it pure. If that was nothing but an adventure last night, then we have never been worthy of our past happiness.... If it was a farewell, then we may expect new happiness in the future ... perhaps.... (_She starts toward the garden_)

AMADEUS

And that's our reward, then, for having always been honest to each other!

CECILIA (_turning toward him again_)

Honest, you call it...? Have we always been that?

AMADEUS

Cecilia!

CECILIA

No, I can't think so any longer. Let everything else have been honest--but that both of us should have resigned ourselves so promptly when you told me of your passion for the Countess and I confessed my affection for Sigismund--that was not honest. If each of us had then flung his scorn, his bitterness, his despair into the face of the other one, instead of trying to appear self-controlled and superior--then we should have been honest--which, as it was, we were not. (_She walks across the veranda outside and disappears into the garden_)

AMADEUS (_to himself_)

All right--then we were not honest. (_After a pause_) And suppose we had been?! (_For a moment he seems to consider; then he goes to the writing desk and puts the manuscript music lying there into the little handbag; after a glance into the garden, he goes into his own room, returning at once with his hat and overcoat; then he opens the handbag again and picks out a manuscript, which he places on the piano; then he goes out rapidly, taking hat, overcoat and handbag with him; a brief pause follows_)

CECILIA (_enters and notices that the handbag is gone; she goes quickly into Amadeus' room, but returns immediately; she crosses the room to the main entrance and remains standing there, opening her arms widely at first, and then letting them sink down again; going to the piano, she catches sight of the manuscript lying there and picks it up; while looking at it, she sinks down on the piano stool_)

PETER (appears on the veranda with Albert and calls from there) Mother!

CECILIA (_does not hear him_)

ALBERT (_observing that Cecilia is alone and sunk in grief, takes Peter with him into the garden again_)

CECILIA (_begins to weep softly and lets her head sink down on the piano_)

CURTAIN

COUNTESS MIZZIE

OR

THE FAMILY REUNION

(_Komtesse Mizzi oder der Familientag_)

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

1907

PERSONS

COUNT ARPAD PAZMANDY

MIZZIE } His daughter

PRINCE EGON RAVENSTEIN

LOLO LANGHUBER

PHILIP

PROFESSOR WINDHOFER

WASNER

THE GARDENER

THE VALET

COUNTESS MIZZIE

_The garden of Count Arpad. In the background, tall iron fence. Near the middle of this, but a little more to the right, there is a gate. In the foreground, at the left, appears the façade of the two-storied villa, which used to be an imperial hunting lodge about 180 years ago and was remodeled about thirty years ago. A narrow terrace runs along the main floor, which is raised above the ground. Three wide stairs lead from the terrace down to the garden. French doors, which are standing open, lead from the terrace into the drawing-room. The windows of the upper floor are of ordinary design. Above that floor appears a small balcony, to which access is had through a dormer window. This balcony holds a profusion of flowering plants. A garden seat, a small table and an armchair stand under a tree at the right, in the foreground._

COUNT (_enters from the right; he is an elderly man with gray mustaches, but must still be counted decidedly good-looking; his bearing and manners indicate the retired officer; he wears a riding suit and carries a crop_)

VALET (_entering behind the Count_)

At what time does Your Grace desire to have dinner to-day?

COUNT (_who speaks with the laconism affected by his former colleagues, and who, at that particular moment, is engaged in lighting a huge cigar_) At two.

VALET

And when is the carriage to be ready, Your Grace?

MIZZIE[1] (_appearing on the balcony with a palette and a bunch of brushes in one hand, calls down to her father_) Good morning, papa.

[1] Diminutive of Maria.

COUNT

Morning, Mizzie.

MIZZIE

You left me all alone for breakfast again, papa. Where have you been anyhow?

COUNT

Most everywhere. Rode out by way of Mauer and Rodaun.[2] Perfectly splendid day. And what are you doing? At work already? Is there anything new to be seen soon?

[2] Small towns south of Vienna. The subsequent reference to
the Tiergarten shows that the Pazmandy residence must be in
the little suburb of Lainz, at the extreme southwestern corner
of Vienna. Near the Tiergarten there is actually an imperial
hunting lodge, which the playwright seems to have appropriated
for his purpose.

MIZZIE

Yes, indeed, papa. Nothing but flowers though, as usual.

COUNT

Isn't the professor coming to see you to-day?

MIZZIE

Yes, but not until one.

COUNT

Well, don't let me interrupt you.

MIZZIE (_throws a kiss to him and disappears from the balcony_)

COUNT (_to the valet_)

What are you waiting for? Oh, the carriage. I'm not going out again to-day. Joseph can take a holiday. Or wait a moment. (_He calls up to the balcony_) Say, Mizzie....

MIZZIE (_reappears on the balcony_)

COUNT

Sorry to disturb you again. Do you think you'll want the carriage to-day?

MIZZIE

No, thank you, papa. I can think of nothing.... No, thanks. (_She disappears again_)

COUNT

So Joseph can do what he pleases this afternoon. That's--oh, see that Franz gives the nag a good rubbing down. We got a little excited this morning--both of us.

VALET (_goes out_)

COUNT (_sits down on the garden seat, picks up a newspaper from the table and begins to read_)

GARDENER (_enters_)

Good morning, Your Grace.

COUNT

Morning, Peter. What's up?

GARDENER

With Your Grace's permission, I have just cut the tea roses.

COUNT

Why all that lot?

GARDENER

The bush is full up. It ain't wise, Your Grace, to leave 'em on the stem much longer. If maybe Your Grace could find some use....

COUNT

Haven't got any. Why do you stand there looking at me? I'm not going to the city. I won't need any flowers. Why don't you put them in some of those vases and things that are standing about in there? Quite the fashion nowadays, isn't it? (_He takes the bunch of flowers from the gardener and inhales their fragrance while he seems to be pondering something_) Wasn't that a carriage that stopped here?

GARDENER

That's His Highness' pair of blacks. I know 'em by their step.

COUNT

Thanks very much then. (_He hands back the roses_)

PRINCE (_comes in by the gate_)

COUNT (_goes to meet him_)

GARDENER

Good morning, Your Highness.

PRINCE

Hello, Peter.

GARDENER (_goes out toward the right_)

PRINCE (_wears a light-colored Summer suit; is fifty-five, but doesn't look it; tall and slender; his manner of speech suggests the diplomat, who is as much at home in French as in his native tongue_)

COUNT

Delighted, old chap. How goes it?

PRINCE

Thanks. Splendid day.

COUNT (_offers him one of his gigantic cigars_)

PRINCE

No, thank you, not before lunch. Only one of my own cigarettes, if you permit. (_He takes a cigarette from his case and lights it_)

COUNT

So you've found time to drop in at last. Do you know how long you haven't been here? Three weeks.

PRINCE (_glancing toward the balcony_)

Really that long?

COUNT

What is it that makes you so scarce?

PRINCE

You mustn't mind. But you are right, of course. And even to-day I come only to say good-by.

COUNT

What--good-by?

PRINCE

I shall be off to-morrow.

COUNT

You're going away? Where?

PRINCE

The sea shore. And you--have you made any plans yet?

COUNT

I haven't given a thought to it yet--this year.

PRINCE

Well, of course, it's wonderful right here--with your enormous park. But you have to go somewhere later in the Summer?

COUNT

Don't know yet. But it's all one.

PRINCE

What's wrong now?

COUNT

Oh, my dear old friend, it's going downhill.

PRINCE

How? That's a funny way of talking, Arpad. What do you mean by downhill?

COUNT

One grows old, Egon.

PRINCE

Yes, and gets accustomed to it.

COUNT

What do you know about it--you who are five years younger?

PRINCE

Six almost. But at fifty-five the springtime of life is pretty well over. Well--one gets resigned to it.

COUNT

You have always been something of a philosopher, old chap.

PRINCE

Anyhow, I can't see what's the matter with you. You look fine. (_Seats himself; frequently during this scene he glances up at the balcony; pause_)

COUNT (_with sudden decision_)

Have you heard the latest? She's going to marry.

PRINCE

Who's going to marry?

COUNT

Do you have to ask? Can't you guess?

PRINCE

Oh, I see. Thought it might be Mizzie. And that would also.... So Lolo is going to marry.

COUNT

She is.

PRINCE

But that's hardly the "latest."

COUNT

Why not?

PRINCE

It's what she has promised, or threatened, or whatever you choose to call it, these last three years.

COUNT

Three, you say? May just as well say ten. Or eighteen. Yes, indeed. In fact, since the very start of this affair between her and me. It has always been a fixed idea with her. "If ever a decent man asks me to marry him, I'll get off the stage _stante pede_." It was almost the first thing she told me. You have heard it yourself a couple of times. And now he's come--the one she has been waiting for--and she's to get married.

PRINCE

Hope he's decent at least.

COUNT

Yes, you're very witty! But is that your only way of showing sympathy in a serious moment like this?

PRINCE

Now! (_He puts his hand on the Count's arm_)

COUNT

Well, I assure you, it's a serious moment. It's no small matter when you have lived twenty years with somebody--in a _near_-marital state; when you have been spending your best years with her, and really shared her joys and sorrows--until you have come to think at last, that it's never going to end--and then she comes to you one fine day and says: "God bless you, dear, but I'm going to get wedded on the sixteenth...." Oh, damn the whole story! (_He gets up and begins to walk about_) And I can't blame her even. Because I understand perfectly. So what can you do about it?

PRINCE

You've always been much too kind, Arpad.

COUNT

Nothing kind about it. Why shouldn't I understand? The clock has struck thirty-eight for her. And she has said adieu to her profession. So that anybody can sympathize with her feeling that there is no fun to go on as a ballet dancer retired on half pay and mistress on active service to Count Pazmandy, who'll be nothing but an old fool either, as time runs along. Of course, I have been prepared for it. And I haven't blamed her a bit--'pon my soul!

PRINCE

So you have parted as perfect friends?

COUNT

Certainly. In fact, our leave-taking was quite jolly. 'Pon my soul, I never suspected at first how tough it would prove. It's only by degrees it has come home to me. And that's quite a remarkable story, I must say....

PRINCE

What's remarkable about it?

COUNT

I suppose I had better tell you all about it. On my way home that last time--one night last week--I had a feeling all of a sudden--I don't know how to express it ... tremendously relieved, that's what I felt. Now you are a free man, I said to myself. Don't have to drive to Mayerhof Street[3] every night God grants you, merely to dine and chatter with Lolo, or just sit there listening to her. Had come to be pretty boresome at times, you know. And then the drive home in the middle of the night, and, on top of it, to be called to account when you happened to be dining with a friend in the Casino or taking your daughter to the opera or a theater. To cut it short--I was in high feather going home that night. My head was full of plans already.... No, nothing of the kind you have in mind! But plans for traveling, as I have long wanted to do--to Africa, or India, like a free man.... That is, I should have brought my little girl along, of course.... Yes, you may well laugh at my calling her a little girl still.

[3] A street in the district of Wieden, near one of the
principal shopping districts and leading to the great
Theresian Riding Academy.

PRINCE

Nothing of the kind. Mizzie looks exactly like a young girl. Like quite a young one. Especially in that Florentine straw hat she was wearing a while ago.

COUNT

Like a young girl, you say! And yet she's exactly of an age with Lolo. You know, of course! Yes, we're growing old, Egon. Every one of us. Oh, yes.... And lonely. But really, I didn't notice it to begin with. It was only by degrees it got hold of me. The first days after that farewell feast were not so very bad. But the day before yesterday, and yesterday, as the time approached when I used to start for Mayerhof Street.... And when Peter brought in those roses a moment ago--for Lolo, of course--why, then it seemed pretty plain to me that I had become a widower for the second time in my life. Yes, my dear fellow. And this time forever. Now comes the loneliness. It has come already.

PRINCE

But that's nonsense--loneliness!

COUNT

Pardon me, but you can't understand. Your way of living has been so different from mine. You have not let yourself be dragged into anything new since your poor wife died ten years ago. Into nothing of a serious nature, I mean. And besides, you have a profession, in a sense.

PRINCE

Have I?

COUNT

Well, as a member of the Upper House.

PRINCE

Oh, I see.

COUNT

And twice you have almost been put into the cabinet.

PRINCE

Yes, almost....

COUNT

Who knows? Perhaps you will break in some time. And I'm all done. Had myself retired three years ago in the bargain--like a fool.

PRINCE (_with a smile_)

That's why you are a free man now. Perfectly free. With the world open before you.

COUNT

And no desire to do a thing, old man. That's the whole story. Since that time I haven't gone to the Casino even. Do you know what I have been doing the last few nights? I have sat under that tree with Mizzie--playing domino.

PRINCE

Well, don't you see? That's not to be lonely. When you have a daughter, and particularly such a sensible one, with whom you have always got on so well.... What does she say about your staying at home nights anyhow?

COUNT

Nothing. Besides, it has happened before, quite frequently. She says nothing at all. And what could she say? It seems to me she has never noticed anything. Do you think she can have known about Lolo?

PRINCE (_laughing_)

Man alive!

COUNT

Of course. Yes, I know. Of course, she must have known. But then, I was still almost a young man when her mother died. I hope it hasn't hurt her feelings.

PRINCE

No, _that_ wouldn't. (_Casually_) But being left so much alone may have troubled her at times, I should think.

COUNT

Has she complained of me? There's no reason why you shouldn't tell me.

PRINCE

I am not in her confidence. She has never complained to me. And, heavens, it may never have troubled her at all. She has so long been accustomed to this quiet, retired life.

COUNT

Yes, and she seems to have a taste for it, too. And then she used to go out a good deal until a few years ago. Between you and me, Egon, as late as three years ago--no, two years ago--I still thought she might make the plunge after all.

PRINCE

What plunge? Oh, I see....

COUNT

If you could only guess what kind of men have been paying attention to her quite recently....

PRINCE

That's only natural.

COUNT

But she won't. She absolutely won't. What I mean is, that she can't be feeling so very lonely ... otherwise she would ... as she has had plenty of opportunity....

PRINCE

Certainly. It's her own choice. And then Mizzie has an additional resource in her painting. It's a case like that of my blessed aunt, the late Fanny Hohenstein, who went on writing books to a venerable old age and never wanted to hear a word about marriage.

COUNT

It may have some connection with her artistic aspirations. At times I'm inclined to look for some psychological connection between all these morbid tendencies.

PRINCE

Morbid, you say? But you can't possibly call Mizzie morbid.

COUNT

Oh, it's all over now. But there was a time....

PRINCE

I have always found Mizzie very sensible and very well balanced. After all, painting roses and violets doesn't prove a person morbid by any means.

COUNT

You don't think me such a fool that her violets and roses could make me believe.... But if you remember when she was still a young girl....

PRINCE

What then?

COUNT

Oh, that story at the time Fedor Wangenheim wanted to marry her.

PRINCE

O Lord, are you still thinking of that? Besides, there was no truth in it. And that was eighteen or twenty years ago almost.

COUNT

Her wanting to join the Ursuline Sisters rather than marry that nice young fellow, to whom she was as good as engaged already--and then up and away from home all at once--you might call that morbid, don't you think?

PRINCE

What has put you in mind of that ancient story to-day?

COUNT

Ancient, you say? I feel as if it happened last year only. It was at the very time when my own affair with Lolo had just begun. Ah, harking back like that...! And if anybody had foretold me at the time...! You know, it really began like any ordinary adventure. In the same reckless, crazy way. Yes, crazy--that's it. Not that I want to make myself out worse than I am, but it was lucky for all of us that my poor wife had already been dead a couple of years. Lolo seemed ... my fate. Mistress and wife at the same time. Because she's such a wonderful cook, you know. And the way she makes you comfortable. And always in good humor--never a cross word.... Well, it's all over. Don't let us talk of it.... (_Pause_) Tell me, won't you stay for lunch? And I must call Mizzie.

PRINCE (_checking him_)

Wait--I have something to tell you. (_Casually, almost facetiously_) I want you to be prepared.

COUNT

Why? For what?

PRINCE

There is a young man coming here to be introduced.

COUNT (_astonished_)

What? A young man?

PRINCE

If you have no objection.

COUNT

Why should I object? But who is he?

PRINCE

Dear Arpad--he's my son.

COUNT (_greatly surprised_)

What?

PRINCE

Yes, my son. You see, I didn't want--as I'm going away....

COUNT

Your son? You've got a son?

PRINCE

I have.

COUNT

Well, did you ever...! You have got a young man who is your son--or rather, you have got a son who is a young man. How old?

PRINCE

Seventeen.

COUNT

Seventeen! And you haven't told me before! No, Egon ... Egon! And tell me ... seventeen...? My dear chap, then your wife was still alive....

PRINCE

Yes, my wife was still alive at the time. You see, Arpad, one gets mixed up in all sorts of strange affairs.

COUNT

'Pon my soul, so it seems!

PRINCE

And thus, one fine day, you find yourself having a son of seventeen with whom you go traveling.

COUNT

So it's with him you are going away?

PRINCE

I am taking that liberty.

COUNT

No, I couldn't possibly tell you.... Why, he has got a son of seventeen!... (_Suddenly he grasps the hand of the Prince, and then puts his arms about him_) And if I may ask ... the mother of that young gentleman, your son ... how it happens ... as you have started telling me....

PRINCE

She's dead long ago. Died a couple of weeks after he was born. A mere slip of a girl.

COUNT

Of the common people?

PRINCE

Oh, of course. But a charming creature. I may as well tell you everything about it. That is, as far as I can recall it myself. The whole story seems like a dream. And if it were not for the boy....

COUNT

And all that you tell me only now! To-day only--just before the boy is coming here!

PRINCE

You never can tell how a thing like that may be received.

COUNT

Tut, tut! Received, you say...? Did you believe perhaps ... I'm something of a philosopher myself, after all.... And you call yourself a friend of mine!

PRINCE

Not a soul has known it--not a single soul in the whole world.

COUNT

But you might have told me. Really, I don't see how you could.... Come now, it wasn't quite nice.

PRINCE

I wanted to wait and see how the boy developed. You never can tell....

COUNT

Of course, with a mixed pedigree like that.... But you seem reassured now?

PRINCE

Oh, yes, he's a fine fellow.

COUNT (_embracing him again_)

And where has he been living until now?

PRINCE

His earliest years were spent a good way from Vienna--in the Tirol.

COUNT

With peasants?

PRINCE

No, with a small landowner. Then he went to school for some time at Innsbruck. And during the last few years I have been sending him to the preparatory school at Krems.[4]

[4] Innsbruck is the capital of the province of Tirol. Krems
is a small city on the Donau, not so very far from Vienna,
having a fine high school or "gymnasium." The idea is, of
course, that as the boy grew up, his father became more and
more interested and wanted to have him within easier reach.

COUNT

And you have seen him frequently?

PRINCE

Of course.

COUNT

And what's _his_ idea of it anyhow?

PRINCE

Up to a few days ago he thought that he had lost both his parents--his father as well--and that I was a friend of his dead father.

MIZZIE (_appearing on the balcony_)

Good morning, Prince Egon.

PRINCE

Good morning, Mizzie.

COUNT

Well, won't you come down a while?

MIZZIE

Oh, if I am not in the way.... (_She disappears_)

COUNT

And what are we going to say to Mizzie?

PRINCE

I prefer to leave that to you, of course. But as I am adopting the boy anyhow, and as a special decree by His Majesty will probably enable him to assume my name in a few days ...

COUNT (_surprised_)

What?

PRINCE

... I think it would be wiser to tell Mizzie the truth at once.

COUNT

Certainly, certainly--and why shouldn't we? Seeing that you are adopting him.... It's really funny--but, you see, a daughter, even when she gets to be an old maid, is nothing but a little girl to her father.

MIZZIE (_appears; she is thirty-seven, but still very attractive; wears a Florentine straw hat and a white dress; she gives the Count a kiss before holding out her hand to the Prince_) Well, how do you do, Prince Egon? We don't see much of you these days.

PRINCE

Thank you.--Have you been very industrious?

MIZZIE

Painting a few flowers.

COUNT

Why so modest, Mizzie? (_To the Prince_) Professor Windhofer told her recently that she could safely exhibit. Won't have to fear comparison with Mrs. Wisinger-Florian herself.[5]

[5] "Neben der Wiesinger-Florian." The name is slightly
misspelt in the German text. It is that of Mrs. Olga
Wisinger-Florian, a well-known Viennese painter of floral
pieces, whose work is represented in many of the big galleries
in Europe. She was born in 1844, made her name in the early
eighties, and is still living.

MIZZIE

That's so, perhaps. But I have no ambition of that kind.

PRINCE

I'm rather against exhibiting, too. It puts you at the mercy of any newspaper scribbler.

MIZZIE

Well, how about the members of the Upper House--at least when they make speeches?

COUNT

And how about all of us? Is there anything into which they don't poke their noses?

PRINCE

Yes, thanks to prevailing tendencies, there are people who would blackguard your pictures merely because you happen to be a countess, Mizzie.

COUNT

Yes, you're right indeed.

VALET (_entering_)

Your Grace is wanted on the telephone.

COUNT

Who is it? What is it about?

VALET

There is somebody who wishes to speak to Your Grace personally.

COUNT

You'll have to excuse me a moment. (_To the Prince, in a lowered voice_) Tell her now--while I am away. I prefer it. (_He goes out followed by the valet_)

MIZZIE

Somebody on the telephone--do you think papa can have fallen into new bondage already? (_She seats herself_)

PRINCE

Into _new_ bondage, you say?

MIZZIE

Lolo used always to telephone about this time. But it's all over with her now. You know it, don't you?

PRINCE

I just heard it.

MIZZIE

And what do you think of it, Prince Egon. I am rather sorry, to tell the truth. If he tries anything new now, I'm sure he'll burn his fingers. And I do fear there is something in the air. You see, he's still too young for his years.

PRINCE

Yes, that's so.

MIZZIE (_turning so that she faces the Prince_)

And by the way, you haven't been here for ever so long.

PRINCE

You haven't missed me very much ... I fear.... Your art ... and heaven knows what else....

MIZZIE (_without affectation_)

Nevertheless....

PRINCE

Awfully kind of you.... (_Pause_)

MIZZIE

What makes you speechless to-day? Tell me something. Isn't there anything new in the world at all?

PRINCE (_as if he had thought of it only that moment_)