Roses: Four One-Act Plays Part 22

Margot (_ecstatically_).

Yes, I am equal to anything now. I am not afraid to face the worst.

I can even marry that man. I shall send him my acceptance quite calmly.--Of course. Why not?

Ebeling (_shocked_).

What!

Margot.

Why should you be astonished at that? Now that I know you love me? Only for a year! Perhaps for two! Yes, two! Oh, please, two! Then, later, when you've left me, let others come! It's all the same, who! For marriage, of course, I'm entirely spoiled! But I'll be revenged on him!

On him and on Virtue and on Loyalty and on all that stuff with which they've so long tormented me. And the evening before my wedding--then may I--come to you again? Toward twilight! It must be on a Sunday. I'll arrange for that, so we can be alone. Ah, I shall count the days till then! Why do you look at me like that? (Ebeling _stands up and throws himself on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. A long pause._) What can I have done? (_She stands up. Another pause._) Surely I haven't done you any wrong by loving you?

Ebeling.

Go home now, my child.

Margot.

I wanted to leave some time ago, but you made me stay. (_She b.u.t.tons her coat, throws on her boa, and is about to go out. Then she turns around resolutely, and places herself before him._) Oh, I know--I'm disgraced--I'm not worthy of anything better--; but I needn't have had to endure _such_ scorn and contempt! (Ebeling _rises, looks at her, groans, buries his face in his hands, and falls back into the chair_.

Margot _kneels beside him, weeping._) Dear--dearest--what is it? What's wrong, my darling?

Ebeling (_compelling himself to be composed_).

Stand up! (_She does so._) I am going to tell you. (_Stands up himself._) I asked your mother's consent to my marrying you to-day.

There, now you know it. Good-bye. (_Sits down in the writing-chair. A pause._)

Margot.

(_Does not move. Her face becomes hard and bitter._) And now that you see what sort I am----H'm, yes. Ah, well, you'll soon console yourself.

There are so many others. Why should it be just I? Let me suggest one of my friends--a dear--a pretty girl--with white teeth. Why take it to heart? It hurts for the moment--but one easily forgets. Such girls as I deserve nothing better. To them--one does this! (_Plucks the petals from the roses which are standing before her in the vase._) And then one throws them away--like this! (_Throws the petals in his face._)

Ebeling (_brushing away the petals_).

What have the roses done to you, my child?

Margot.

I sent them to you. I, too, may destroy them.

Ebeling (_springing up_).

It was you, you who all these years----?

Margot.

Good evening, Herr Ebeling. (_She goes out._)

Ebeling.

(_Pauses for a moment irresolutely, struggling with himself, then hurries after her. His voice is heard._) Stay here! Stay here! Come in here! (_He reappears at the centre door, pulling her by the arm._) Come in here! Come back!

Margot.

What do you want of me? I'll cry for help----

Ebeling.

Come here! (_Drags her to the writing-table._)

Margot.

Leave me alone!

Ebeling.

Be quiet! Be quiet! (_Picks up one of the pictures standing on the table._) There! That woman dragged my name in the gutter. Will you do the same? Answer me! (Margot _stands motionless, the tears running down her cheeks._) Answer, I say.

Margot (_slowly and heavily_).

Ah, one thinks and says so much when there's no longer a particle of hope in one's life.

Ebeling.

I understand. (_He throws the picture on the ground; frame and gla.s.s are dashed to pieces._) Let us go to your parents. We'll arrange with them what's best to be done. (_As she doesn't move._) Well? (Margot _shakes her head._) You don't want to?

Margot.

Not that way! As I am now, humiliated--mortified--disgraced--no, not that way! I am so tired of playing Magdalen! No! When I come, I'll come with a free step. I'll be able to look every man in the face! But I must find out first what I am still worth, and (_looking him full in the face_) it must be a great, great deal--to be worthy of you.

Ebeling (_moved_).

Give me your hands, dear.

Margot (_doing so_).

When we see each other again, they'll be red and ugly. (Ebeling _kisses her hands and presses them to his face._) Good-bye. (_She turns to go._)

Curtain.

III

THE LAST VISIT