Contemporary One-Act Plays Part 94

"And twenty years of rose-wreathed joy Would spring to life for me-- Yet twenty years could ne'er suffice To wors.h.i.+p it--and thee!"

THE PRINCESS. How nice that is! I've never had any verses written to me b----

STRuBEL. Ah, my dear young lady, ordinary folks like us have to do their own verse-making!

THE PRINCESS. And all for one rose! Dear me, how soon it fades! And then what is left you?

STRuBEL. No, my dear friend, a rose like that never fades--even as my love for the gracious giver can never die.

THE PRINCESS. But you haven't even got it yet!

STRuBEL. That makes no difference in the end. I'm entirely independent of such externals. When some day I shall be explaining Ovid to the beginners, or perhaps even reading Horace with the more advanced cla.s.ses--no, it's better for the present not to think of reaching any such dizzy heights of greatness--well, then I shall always be saying to myself with a smile of satisfaction: "You, too, were one of those confounded artist fellows--why, you once went so far as to love a princess!"

THE PRINCESS. And that will make you happy?

STRuBEL. Enormously! For what makes us happy, after all? A bit of happiness? Great heavens, no! Happiness wears out like an old glove.

THE PRINCESS. Well, then, what does?

STRuBEL. Ah, how should I know! Any kind of a dream--a fancy--a wish unfulfilled--a sorrow that we coddle--some nothing which suddenly becomes everything to us. I shall always say to my pupils: "Young men, if you want to be happy as long as you live, create G.o.ds for yourselves in your own image; these G.o.ds will take care of your happiness."

The Princess. And what would the G.o.d be like that you would create?

STRuBEL. _Would be?_ _Is_, my dear young lady, _is!_ A man of the world, a gentleman, well-bred, smiling, enjoying life--who looks out upon mankind from under bushy eyebrows, who knows Nietzsche and Stendhal by heart, and--[_pointing to his shoes_] who isn't down at the heels--a G.o.d, in short, worthy of my princess. I know perfectly well that all my life long I shall never do anything but crawl around on the ground like an industrious ant, but I know, too, that the G.o.d of my fancy will always take me by the collar when the proper moment comes and pull me up again into the clouds. Yes, up there I'm safe. And your G.o.d, or rather your G.o.ddess--what would she look like?

THE PRINCESS. [_Thoughtfully._] That's not easy to say. My G.o.ddess would be--a quiet, peaceful woman who would treasure a secret little joy like the apple of her eye, who would know nothing of the world except what she wanted to know, and who would have the strength to make her own choice when it pleased her.

STRuBEL. But that doesn't seem to me a particularly lofty aspiration, my dear young lady.

THE PRINCESS. Lofty as the heavens, my friend.

STRuBEL. My princess would be of a different opinion.

THE PRINCESS. Do you think so?

STRuBEL. For that's merely the ideal of every little country girl.

THE PRINCESS. Not her ideal--her daily life which she counts as naught.

It is my ideal because I can never attain it.

STRuBEL. Oh, I say, my dear young girl! It can't be as bad as that! A young girl like you--so charming and--I don't want to be forward, but if I could only help you a bit!

THE PRINCESS. Have you got to be helping all the time? Before, it was only a cheap lunch, now it's actually----

STRuBEL. Yes, yes, I'm an awful donkey, I know, but----

THE PRINCESS. [_Smiling._] Don't say any more about it, dear friend! I like you that way.

STRuBEL. [_Feeling oppressed by her superiority._] Really, you are an awfully strange person! There's something about you that--that----

THE PRINCESS. Well?

STRuBEL. I can't exactly define it. Tell me, weren't you wanting to go into the woods before? It's so--so oppressive in here.

THE PRINCESS. Oppressive? I don't find it so at all--quite the contrary.

STRuBEL. No, no--I'm restless. I don't know what--at all events, may I not escort you--? One can chat more freely, one can express himself more openly--if one----

[_Takes a deep breath._

THE PRINCESS. [_Smiling._] And you are leaving your far-away princess with such a light heart?

STRuBEL. [_Carelessly._] Oh, she! She won't run away. She'll be sitting there to-morrow again--and the day after, too!

THE PRINCESS. And so that is your great, undying love?

STRuBEL. Yes, but when a girl like you comes across one's path----

FRAU V. HALLDORF. [_Hurrying in and then drawing back in feigned astonishment._] Oh!

LIDDY AND MILLY. [_Similarly._] Oh!

STRuBEL. Well, ladies, didn't I tell you that you wouldn't find her?

Princesses don't grow along the roadside like weeds!

FRAU V. HALLDORF. [_Disregarding him--ceremoniously._] The infinite happiness with which this glorious event fills our hearts must excuse in some measure the extraordinary breach of good manners which we are committing in daring to address Your Highness. But, as the fortunate subjects of Your Highness's most n.o.ble fiance, we could not refrain from----

STRuBEL. Well, well! What's all this?

FRAU V. HALLDORF.--from offering to our eagerly awaited sovereign a slight token of our future loyalty. Liddy! Milly! [LIDDY _and_ MILLY _come forward, and, with low court bows, offer their bouquets_.] My daughters respectfully present these few flowers to the ill.u.s.trious princess----

STRuBEL. I beg your pardon, but who is doing the joking here, you or----?

[FRAU V. BROOK _enters_. THE PRINCESS, _taken unawares, has retreated more and more helplessly toward the door at the left, undecided whether to take flight or remain. She greets the arrival of_ FRAU V. BROOK _with a happy sigh of relief_.

FRAU V. BROOK. [_Severely._] Pardon me, ladies. Apparently you have not taken the proper steps toward being presented to Her Highness. In matters of this sort one must first apply to me. I may be addressed every morning from eleven to twelve, and I shall be happy to consider your desires.

FRAU V. HALLDORF. [_With dignity._] I and my children, madame, were aware of the fact that we were acting contrary to the usual procedure; but the impulse of loyal hearts is guided by no rule. I shall be glad to avail myself of your--very kind invitation.

[_All three go out with low curtsies to_ THE PRINCESS.

FRAU V. BROOK. What forwardness! But how could you come down without me?

And what is that young man over there doing? Does he belong to those people?

[THE PRINCESS _shakes her head_. STRuBEL, _without a word, goes to get his hat, which has been lying on a chair, bows abruptly, and is about to leave_.

THE PRINCESS. Oh, no! That wouldn't be nice. Not that way----