The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann Volume I Part 17

Oh, don't go! [_Hearing nothing there, she hastens over to the door of the conservatory, where she also listens for a few moments with tense expression. Folding her hands and in a tone of impa.s.sioned beseeching._]

Oh, don't go! Don't go!

THE CURTAIN FALLS

THE SECOND ACT

_It is about four o'clock in the morning. The windows in the inn are still lit. Through the gateway comes in the twilight of a pallid dawn which, in the course of the action, develops into a ruddy glow, and this, in its turn, gradually melts into bright daylight. Under the gateway, on the ground, sits BEIPST and sharpens his scythe. As the curtain rises, little more is visible than his dark outline which is defined against the morning sky, but one hears the monotonous, uninterrupted and regular beat of the scythe hammer on the anvil. For some minutes this is the only sound audible. Then follows the solemn silence of the morning, broken by the cries of roysterers who are leaving the inn. The inn-door is slammed with a crash. The lights in the windows go out. A distant barking of dogs is heard and a loud, confused crowing of c.o.c.ks. On the path from the inn to the house a dark figure becomes visible which reels in zigzag lines toward the farmyard. It is FARMER KRAUSE, who, as always, has been the last to leave the inn._

FARMER KRAUSE

[_Has reeled against the fence, clings to it for support with both hands, and roars with a somewhat nasal, drunken voice back at the inn._] The garden'sh mine ... the inn'sh mi-ine ... ash of a' inn-keeper! Hi-hee!

[_After mumbling and growling unintelligibly he frees himself from the fence and staggers into the yard, where, luckily, he gets hold of the handles of a plough._] The farm'sh mi'ine. [_He drivels, half singing._]

Drink ... o ... lil' brother, drink ... o ... lil' brother ... brandy'sh good t' give courash. Hi-hee--[_roaring aloud_]--ain' I a han'some man ... Ain' I got a han'some wife?... Ain' I got a couple o' han'some gals?

HELEN

[_Comes swiftly from the house. It is plain that she has only slipped on such garments as, in her hurry, she could find._] Papa!... dear papa!! Do come in! [_She supports him by one arm, tries to lead him and draw him toward the house._] Oh, do come ... do please come ... quick ... quick ... Come, oh, do, _do_ come!

FARMER KRAUSE

[_Has straightened himself up and tries to stand erect. Fumbling with both hands he succeeds, with great pains, in extracting from his breeches-pocket a purse bursting with coins. As the morning brightens, it is possible to see the shabby garb of KRAUSE, which is in no respects better than that of the commonest field labourer. He is about fifty years old. His head is bare, his thin, grey hair is uncombed and matted. His dirty shirt is open down to his waist. His leathern breeches, tied at the ankles, were once yellow but are now shiny with dirt. They are held up by a single embroidered suspender. On his naked feet he wears a pair of embroidered bedroom slippers, the embroidery on which seems to be quite new. He wears neither coat nor waist-coat and his shirtsleeves are unb.u.t.toned. After he has finally succeeded in extracting the purse, he holds it in his right hand and brings it down repeatedly on the palm of his left so that the coins ring and clatter, At the same time he fixes a lascivious look on his daughter._] Hi-hee! The money'sh mi-ine! Hey?

How'd y' like couple o' crownsh?

HELEN

Oh, merciful G.o.d! [_She makes repeated efforts to drag him with her. At one of these efforts he embraces her with the clumsiness of a gorilla and makes several indecent gestures. HELEN utters suppressed cries for help._] Let go! This minute! Let go-o!! Oh, please, papa, Oh-o!! [_She weeps, then suddenly cries out in an extremity of fear, loathing and rage:_] Beast! Swine!

[_She pushes him from her and KRAUSE falls to his full length on the ground. BEIPST comes limping up from his seat under the gateway. He and HELEN set about lifting KRAUSE._

FARMER KRAUSE

[_Stammers._] Drink ... o ... lil' brothersh ... drrr ...

[_KRAUSE is half-lifted up and tumbles into the house, dragging BEIPST and HELEN with him. For a moment the stage remains empty. In the house voices are heard and the slamming of doors. A single window is lit, upon which BEIPST comes out of the house again. He strikes a match against his leathern breeches in order to light the short pipe that rarely leaves his mouth. While he is thus employed, KAHL is seen slinking out of the house. He is in his stocking feet, but has slung his coat loosely over his left arm and holds his bedroom slippers in his left hand. In his right hand he holds his hat and his collar in his teeth. When he has reached the middle of the yard, he sees the face of BEIPST turned upon him. For a moment he seems undecided; then he manages to grasp his hat and collar also with his left hand, dives into his breeches' pocket and going up to BEIPST presses a coin into the latter's hand._

KAHL

There, you got a crown ... but shut yer mouth!

[_He hastens across the yard and climbs over the picket fence at the right._

[_BEIPST has lit his pipe with a fresh match. He limps to the gate, sits down and begins sharpening his scythe anew. Again nothing is heard for a time but the monotonous hammer blows and the groans of the old man, which he interrupts by short oaths when his work will not go to his liking. It has grown considerably lighter._

LOTH

[_Steps out of the house door, stands still, stretches himself, and breathes deeply several times._] Ah! The morning air. [_Slowly he goes toward the background until he reaches the gateway. To BEIPST._] Good morning! Up so early?

BEIPST

[_Squinting at LOTH suspiciously. In a surly tone._] 'Mornin'. [_A brief pause, whereupon BEIPST addresses his scythe which he pulls to and fro in his indignation._] Crooked beast! Well, are ye goin' to? Eksch! Well, well, I'll be ...

[_He continues to sharpen it._

LOTH

[_Has taken a seat between the handles of a cultivator._] I suppose there's hay harvesting to-day?

BEIPST

[_Roughly._] Dam' fools go a-cuttin' hay this time o' year.

LOTH

Well, but you're sharpening a scythe?

BEIPST

[_To the scythe._] Eksch! You ol'...!

[_A brief pause._]

LOTH

Won't you tell me, though, why you are sharpening your scythe if it is not time for the hay harvest?

BEIPST

Eh? Don't you need a scythe to cut fodder?

LOTH

So that's it. You're going to cut fodder?

BEIPST

Well, what else?

LOTH

And is it cut every morning?

BEIPST

Well, d' you want the beasts to starve?