The Dramatic Works of Gerhart Hauptmann Volume I Part 67

ANSORGE

Yes, yes, a curse upon them!

OLD BAUMERT

[_Clenching his fist, threateningly._] You prey on man and woman.

JAEGER

[_Reads._]

The suppliant knows he asks in vain, Vain every word that's spoken.

"If not content, then go and starve-- Our rules cannot be broken."

OLD BAUMERT

What is it? "The suppliant knows he asks in vain"? Every word of it's true ... every word ... as true as the Bible. He knows he asks in vain.

ANSORGE

Yes, yes! It's all no good.

JAEGER

[_Reads._]

Then think of all our woe and want, O ye who hear this ditty!

Our struggle vain for daily bread Hard hearts would move to pity.

But pity's what _you've_ never known, You'd take both skin and clothing, You cannibals, whose cruel deeds Fill all good men with loathing.

OLD BAUMERT

[_Jumps up, beside himself with excitement._] Both skin and clothing.

It's true, it's all true! Here I stands, Robert Baumert, master-weaver of Kaschbach. Who can bring up anything against me?... I've been an honest, hard-workin' man all my life long, an' look at me now! What have I to show for it? Look at me! See what they've made of me! Stretched on the rack day after day, [_He holds out his arms._] Feel that! Skin and bone!

"You villains all, you brood of h.e.l.l!!"

[_He sinks down on a chair, weeping with rage and despair._

ANSORGE

[_Flings his basket from him into a corner, rises, his whole body trembling with rage, gasps._] An' the time's come now for a change, I say. We'll stand it no longer! We'll stand it no longer! Come what may!

END OF THE SECOND ACT

THE THIRD ACT

_The common-room of the princ.i.p.al public-house in Peterswaldau. A large room with a raftered roof supported by a central wooden pillar, round which a table runs. In the back mall, a little to the right of the pillar, is the entrance-door, through the opening of which the s.p.a.cious lobby or outer room is seen, with barrels and brewing utensils. To the right of this door, in the corner, is the bar--a high wooden counter with receptacles for beer-mugs, gla.s.ses, etc.; a cupboard with rows of brandy and liqueur bottles on the wall behind, and between counter and cupboard a narrow s.p.a.ce for the barkeeper. In front of the bar stands a table with a gay-coloured cover, a pretty lamp hanging above it, and several cane chairs placed around it. Not far off, in the right wall, is a door with the inscription: Bar Parlour. Nearer the front on the same side an old eight-day clock stands ticking. At the back, to the left of the entrance-door, is a table with bottles and gla.s.ses, and beyond this, in the corner, is the great tile-oven. In the left wall there are three small windows.

Below them runs a long bench; and in front of each stands a large oblong wooden table, with the end towards the wall. There are benches with backs along the sides of these tables, and at the end of each facing the window stands a wooden chair. The walls are washed blue and decorated with advertis.e.m.e.nts, coloured prints and oleographs, among the latter a portrait of Frederick William IV._

_WELZEL, the publican, a good-natured giant, upwards of fifty, stands behind the counter, letting beer run from a barrel into a gla.s.s._

_MRS. WELZEL is ironing by the stove. She is a handsome, tidily dressed woman in her thirty-fifth year._

_ANNA WELZEL, a good-looking girl of seventeen, with a quant.i.ty of beautiful, fair, reddish hair, sits, neatly dressed, with her embroidery, at the table with the coloured cover. She looks up from her work for a moment and listens, as the sound of a funeral hymn sung by school-children is heard in the distance._

_WIEGAND, the joiner, in his working clothes, is sitting at the same table, with a gla.s.s of Bavarian beer before him. His face shows that he understands what the world requires of a man if he is to attain his ends--namely, craftiness, swiftness, and relentless pushing forward._

_A COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER is seated at the pillar-table, vigorously masticating a beef-steak. He is of middle height, stout and thriving-looking, inclined to jocosity, lively, and impudent. He is dressed in the fashion of the day, and his portmanteau, pattern-case, umbrella, overcoat, and travelling rug lie on chairs beside him._

WELZEL

[_Carrying a gla.s.s of beer to the TRAVELLER, but addressing WIEGAND._]

The devil's broke loose in Peterswaldau to-day.

WIEGAND

[_In a sharp, shrill voice._] That's because it's delivery day at Dreissiger's.

MRS. WELZEL

But they don't generally make such an awful row.

WIEGAND

It's may be because of the two hundred new weavers that he's going to take on.

MRS. WELZEL

[_At her ironing._] Yes, yes, that'll be it. If he wants two hundred, six hundred's sure to have come. There's no lack of _them_.

WIEGAND

No, they'll last. There's no fear of their dying out, let them be ever so badly off. They bring more children into the world than we know what to do with. [_The strains of the funeral hymn are suddenly heard more distinctly._] There's a funeral to-day too. Weaver Nentwich is dead, you know.

WELZEL

He's been long enough about it. He's been goin' about like a livin' ghost this many a long day.

WIEGAND

You never saw such a little coffin, Welzel; it was the tiniest, miserablest little thing I ever glued together. And what a corpse! It didn't weigh ninety pounds.