The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries Volume Ix Part 9

You are right--it was a vile thought!

MOTHER.

To your son you are only half a father! I must tell you that!

ANTONY.

Wife! We'll not discuss that today!

MOTHER.

He is not like you--but is that any reason why he must be bad?

ANTONY.

Then where is he now? The noon hour struck long ago! I'll wager the dinner is burning and spoiling, because Clara has secret orders not to set the table until he is here!

MOTHER.

Where do you think he is? At the worst he is only bowling, and he has to go the longest way about so that you won't see him. Naturally it takes him a long time to get back!--I cannot see what you have against the innocent game.

ANTONY.

Against the game? Nothing whatever! n.o.ble men must have some way to pa.s.s the time. Without the king of hearts, the real kings would often find life tedious; and if bowling b.a.l.l.s had not been invented, who knows whether princes and barons would not be using our heads for the purpose?

But an ordinary workingman cannot do anything worse than spend his hard-earned money on games. We must respect that which we have laboriously earned in the sweat of our brows; we must hold it high and precious, unless we are to lose our bearings and regard all our works and doings with contempt. How can I strain all my nerves to earn a thaler which I intend to throw away?

[_The door-bell is heard outside._]

SCENE VII

_Enter_ ADAM, _a Bailiff; another Bailiff._

ADAM (_to Master_ ANTONY).

Now, you just go ahead and pay your wager! No people in red coats with blue tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs [_with emphasis_] shall ever enter your house, eh?--Well, here are two of us!

[_To the other bailiff._]

Why don't you keep your hat on, as I do? Who is going to observe formalities among people of his own cla.s.s?

ANTONY.

Your own cla.s.s? You blackguard!

ADAM.

You are right--we are not among our own cla.s.s! Scoundrels and thieves are not of our cla.s.s! [_Points to the dresser._] Open that up! And then three steps away--so that you can't sneak anything out of it!

ANTONY.

What? What?

CLARA (_enters with things to set the table_).

Shall I--[_She stops, speechless._]

ADAM (_exhibits a paper_).

Can you read writing?

ANTONY.

Should I be able to do what even my schoolmaster could not do?

ADAM.

Then listen! Your son has stolen some jewelry! We have the thief already! Now we are here to search the house!

MOTHER (_falls down and dies_).

Oh, G.o.d!

CLARA.

Mother! Mother! How her eyes roll!

LEONARD.

I will fetch a doctor!

ANTONY.

Not necessary! That is the last look! I have seen it a hundred times!

Good night, Theresa! You died when you heard it! Let them write that on your gravestone!

LEONARD.

But perhaps it is [_starts to go_]--awful! But lucky for me!

[_Exit._]

ANTONY (_pulls a bunch of keys from his pocket and throws them down_).

There! Unlock everything! Drawer after drawer! Bring the ax! The key to the trunk is lost! Ha! Scoundrels and thieves! [_He turns his pockets inside out._] I find nothing here!

SECOND BAILIFF.