The Ride Across Lake Constance and Other Plays

by Peter Handke

  She observes the strange scene beneath her with lowered eyelids: JANNINGS and GEORGE are busy pulling each other’s ears and patting each other’s cheeks. She moves a few steps farther down and now remains standing, face forward, on the wide center staircase. With lowered eyelids she appears to observe the two below her: JANNINGS is just showing GEORGE the back of his hand; GEORGE replies by making a circle with his thumb and forefinger and then holding his hand in front of his face; and JANNINGS replies to this sign by holding both hands above his head, loosely clasping one wrist with thumb and forefinger of the other hand and letting the clasped hand circle about itself, whereupon both of them burst out laughing once again, and again start slapping each other’s thighs, making exclamations such as “Exactly!” “You guessed it!” Then one of them slowly calms down while the other continues to slap his thighs.

  In the meantime, two other persons have appeared on the right section of the staircase; both of them have stopped at once and observed the strange scene below: a man and a woman. One can recognize them: ERICH VON STROHEIM and HENNY PORTEN. He is impressive, wears a red dressing gown over a gray vest and pants as the only hint at a costume. She wears an evening dress with a velvet stole.

  As they appear, PORTEN loudly claps her handbag shut and VON STROHEIM pulls up the zipper in back of her dress, then fastens his collar button: “As I said …” But it now becomes unclear how they belong together; they stand two steps apart.

  The noise of the handbag has made one of the two downstairs gradually quiet down. “Don’t turn around!” he says to the other.

  The other immediately turns around and sees the three persons standing on the staircase. “No corpse,” he says to the other. “You can turn around: everyone is alive.”

  The other turns around, then he rubs his eyes fervently.

  “Don’t you believe me?” the first one asks.

  “I just wasn’t prepared for such a bright light,” he replies. “I didn’t know that it was so late already. We’ve lost all track of time with our talking!”

  “We?” the first one asks at once.

  “I,” answers the other.

  Pause.

  “Yes, me too,” the first one says.

  PORTEN is rocking back and forth on the stairway, plays with her stole; the others are rather quiet.

  PORTEN slowly proceeds farther down the stairway, grazes VON STROHEIM with her stole, then exaggerates the way she steps around him. VON STROHEIM quickly overtakes her, stops with his back to her as if to block her path. PORTEN smooths down the back collar of his dressing gown, which was turned up, blows softly on his neck, and walks on. Where the two sections of the staircase join, VON STROHEIM stops next to BERGNER and bends over her neck from the back. She slowly turns around with lowered eyelids, puts her arms around his neck, leans her head against his chest. PORTEN has come closer, touches BERGNER’S hip with the handbag. BERGNER turns her head toward her, frees herself from VON STROHEIM, with slow movements takes the handbag from PORTEN and dreamily hangs it over her own shoulder, and in the same manner offers her hand to VON STROHEIM, palm up. He suggests a kiss on the palm, then takes a step aside so that PORTEN, who in the meantime has stepped behind him, now “takes her turn” and bends over the hand which BERGNER has turned over. PORTEN gives the incident a different interpretation by only looking at the hand over which she is bent. She straightens up, keeps the hand in hers, and guides it to VON STROHEIM as if she wanted to point out something on it to him. VON STROHEIM nods as though he saw it too. This nodding, however, gradually becomes a sign that he agrees to the following: PORTEN guides BERGNER’S hand under VON STROHEIM’S vest and moves it caressingly around, BERGNER suddenly withdraws the hand and lets it drop. But it is PORTEN who emits a brie scream. She makes a small curtsy in front of BERGNER and then suggests a bow in front of VON STROHEIM. Then she takes a step back, squints at one of the two—one doesn’t know at whom—and proceeds to go down the few steps into the room.

  GEORGE and JANNINGS have been the audience in the meantime. But when PORTEN begins to walk down, they become alert and begin to count simultaneously: “One, two, three …” PORTEN slowly descends into the room. “Four, five, seven!” She was just about to place her foot on the sixth step, now she hesitates as if she might fall, then runs back up the steps. She begins to walk down again. “One, two, three, four, five, six, and seven!” But there is also an eighth step and PORTEN, thinking she had reached level ground, stumbles, staggers into the room, gasps for air, and quickly runs back upstairs as if she had been repulsed. She snuggles up to VON STROHEIM.

  “Courage! Get up your courage!” they call to her from below. They whistle the way one whistles to a°dog.

  VON STROHEIM puts his arm around her, supports her by the shoulder, proceeds to lead her slowly downstairs. Her eyes are closed.

  The two below have started counting again. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine!” At “eight” VON STROHEIM and PORTEN have safely arrived downstairs, but at “nine” they walk down one more step, one that does not exist. They bounce on the floor, go half down to their knees, stagger. PORTEN wants to run back but VON STROHEIM, who is also unsteady on his feet, leads her to a sofa. He eases her down, but while he is doing so she clutches him, feels with one hand for the sofa, and then lets herself gradually down. She slowly leans back and sits there with tightly closed eyes, immobile, while VON STROHEIM walks step by step to the table where JANNINGS and GEORGE sit and watch. Hesitating after each movement, both hands propped up on it, he gradually sits down in the fauteuil without a footstool. He wants to lean back, stops, sits there quietly with open eyes. He blinks rapidly, with long pauses in between.

  The audience now looks up to BERGNER. She stands there with lowered eyelids. GEORGE and JANNINGS tiptoe quickly to the stairs and, each holding a finger to the other’s mouth, lie down parallel to the lowest step, one on his back, the other on his stomach. BERGNER comes down the stairs and steps over stomach and back on the floor. She is already on her way to the table. As GEORGE and JANNINGS get up and wipe the dust off each other’s clothes, she has already settled in the easy chair, taken the cozy off the teapot, poured tea for herself, and, without looking up, brought the cup to her lips—as if she had done all that in one single movement.

  GEORGE and JANNINGS Walk black to the table, confused.)

  GEORGE

  Once more: I offer you my fauteuil. (BERGNER makes no reply.) May I offer you my fauteuil?

  BERGNER

  (As if asleep) On the streets the insurmountable filth, the frost, the snowstorms, the immense distances …

  JANNINGS

  What did she say?

  GEORGE

  Nothing. She is dreaming. (To BERGNER, as to someone who is talking in his sleep) Who are you?

  BERGNER

  I only walked into the parlor to turn off the light and have been lost without a trace ever since.

  GEORGE

  Who?

  BERGNER

  Watch out! the candlestick is falling! (JANNINGS and GEORGE turn around, but the candlestick stands motionless on the table. BERGNER quickly opens her eyes; screams at once) Who are you? What do you want? Where am I? (During these questions she has quieted down again and finished them only for form’s sake. She gets up and sits down in one of the free fauteuils, but leaps up again at once.) It’s still warm! (She tries the second fauteuil and gets up again at once.) How dare you offer me a chair that is still warm?

  JANNINGS

  I?

  BERGNER

  No, he. (She points at GEORGE.)

  PORTEN

  (Sitting quietly in the rear on the sofa, has opened her eyes.) What snowstorms?

  (VON STROHEIM stops blinking his eyes and follows the conversation.)

  BERGNER

  (To GEORGE) Why don’t you answer? (To JANNINGS) He doesn’t answer? (JANNINGS stammers.) Think before you speak!

  (Pause.)

  JANNINGS

  (Fluently) Perhap
s he felt you didn’t expect an answer to your question.

  BERGNER

  Can’t he answer for himself?

  JANNINGS

  I speak for him.

  BERGNER

  Are you more powerful than he is?

  JANNINGS

  Why? I mean, why do you ask?

  BERGNER

  Because you speak for him. (JANNINGS is taken aback. He looks at GEORGE, who returns the glance. JANNINGS stammers. Pause. BERGNER quickly) Does he please you? (JANNINGS nods absentmindedly.) Naturally, as your friend he can’t help but please you.

  JANNINGS

  More powerful? Yes … Yes, why not? (To GEORGE) Right? I speak for you, therefore you have to listen to what I say! (GEORGE nods playfully.) You’re not my friend! If someone has something to say here, it’s me! (Pause. JANNINGS and GEORGE begin to play. JANNINGS drops into the fauteuil and stretches out his feet.) The boots! (GEORGE quickly steps up to him, gets down on one knee, and puts on JANNINGS’S boots.) The tea! (GEORGE quickly pours into a cup; hands him the cup.) The sugar! (GEORGE offers him the sugar bowl. JANNINGS takes a piece with the sugar tongs and lets it drop elegantly into the cup.) A spoon! (GEORGE hands him a spoon. Both grin, are close to giggling. JANNINGS stirs once snappily with the spoon.) The newspaper! (GEORGE is already by the newspaper table and back.) My glasses!

  GEORGE

  (Blurts out) But you don’t wear glasses!

  JANNINGS

  (Snorts.) The mustard! The hairbrush! The … (He hesitates.)

  GEORGE

  (Assists him.) The photo album! The pincers!

  JANNINGS

  (With a surgeon’s gesture) The scalpel! The scissors!

  GEORGE

  A permanent—and make it snappy!

  JANNINGS

  (Reaching blindly behind him with gestures of an auto mechanic.) The pliers! The monkey wrench! The soldering iron!

  GEORGE

  Hand over all your money—and be quick about it, if you please!

  JANNINGS

  The sun!

  GEORGE

  (Hesitates.) Why the sun?

  JANNINGS

  (Fatigued by the game) The sun has come up.

  GEORGE

  (Confused) Why? I mean, why do you say that?

  JANNINGS

  (Snaps at him.) Those are my words! (As if exhausted) I don’t know why.

  GEORGE

  (Confused, but indifferent) Your saying so doesn’t change anything. (The last words he has spoken to himself.)

  (In fact, the dawn light did change gradually some time ago to a normal stage light.

  Finally one hears VON STROHEIM. )

  VON STROHEIM

  Wrong! Entirely wrong! (He gets up quickly. BERGNER has turned toward him; whereas she previously had turned away from the others as if disappointed.) I’ll show you how it should be done!

  (Pause. All prepare to watch.

  VON STROHEIM takes a slow look around as if he is about to pick out someone. GEORGE and JANNINGS draw in their heads when his glance passes them. Finally VON STROHEIM examines PORTEN. Since he has his back to the audience, the fact that he is looking at her can only be gleaned from her response to him. First she leans forward, sits upright. Then she rises like a sleepwalher, walks toward VON STROHEIM, stops in front of him. Standing before him, she wants to take off his dressing gown, but then steps behind him and take it off from behind; while doing so, she does not seem to touch him. She walks to the tapestry door behind which the vacuum cleaner is stored, hangs the coat inside, takes out a wine-red smoking jacket; back again behind VON STROHEIM, she spreads it out and he slips into it; again they do not touch one another. GEORGE, as spectator, coughs.)

  JANNINGS

  Psst!

  (PORTEN pulls VON STROHEIM’S cuffs from under his jacket sleeves. Pause. VON STROHEIM now describes a quarter circle with his hand, signaling PORTEN to stand in front of him. She obeys immediately and, in doing so, makes sure never to turn her back to him. She stops in front of him. He beckons her with his index finger to come closer. Pause.

  JANNINGS, eagerly watching, points with a similar circular movement of his hand at the cigar box. GEORGE, also enthralled, has noticed the movement out of the corner of his eye and obeys blindly by handing JANNINGS the box from the table, still watching the two. Then he realizes what he has done and is quite startled. He looks toward JANNINGS. They look at one another rather startled and immediately turn back to the action.

  VON STROHEIM pulls PORTEN closer to him by the stole. Playfully he steps a little to the side so that PORTEN is completely visible too. He grabs her with his index finger under the chin and lifts her face. Pause. He strokes the back of her head. Pause. He pats her fondly on the shoulder. Pause. He drums with two fingers on her cheek. Pause. He snaps his fingers against her teeth. Pause. He pulls her lower eyelid down with his finger. Pause. He gives her a pat on the behind so that she goes half down on her knees. Pause. GEORGE coughs.)

  JANNINGS

  Psst!

  (VON STROHEIM turns PORTEN around, so that she stands with her back to him and walks back a step. Pause. GEORGE coughs. Still sitting, JANNINGS gives him a kick. GEORGE, standing by the table, jerks forward a little; but PORTEN, as if she had been kicked, tumbles across the stage toward the sofa and remains lying in front of it. In fact, VON STROHEIM had already lifted his knee to administer a kick. Pause. Startled, they all look at each other. Pause.)

  BERGNER

  It’s nice to watch when something is beginning to function smoothly. It’s like watching a sale: move after move. Here the goods, there the money! Here the money, there the goods! Or like listening to two people talking: first the question, then the reply. Someone holds out his hand, the other shakes it. How are you, I’m fine! How do you like him, I think he’s okay! Someone gets up, you’re already leaving? Someone sighs, and you pat him. Oh, that’s beautiful!

  (VON STROHEIM slowly lowers his leg, turns around slightly dazed. PORTEN pulls herself up on the sofa and sits down, her face half turned away.

  GEORGE sits down bewildered in the fauteuil. JANNINGS looks at the boot with which he kicked him. He punches his leg and upper arm a few times. GEORGE, too, fiercely pinches his arm once. BERGNER sighs. She walks up to VON STROHEIM, then stops short. He comes toward her, then stops. She takes his hand, puts it on her breast. She caresses herself with his hand until he begins to caress her. PORTEN suddenly gets up and runs toward the table. GEORGE, who from her viewpoint is sitting behind the table, stands up unintentionally. BERGNER and VON STROHEIM let go of each other and watch.)

  GEORGE

  (Asks) What would you like? (The words slipped out.)

  PORTEN

  (Like a customer) Do you carry gas pistols?

  GEORGE

  Gas pistols? You mean “tear-gas pistols”?

  PORTEN

  Aren’t you the salesman? (GEORGE makes no reply.) You were sitting behind the table and got up when I came in; you’re the salesman, aren’t you?

  GEORGE

  (Looks at JANNINGS, who signifies to him to agree with her.) The salesman? You mean I am “the salesman”? Well, why shouldn’t I be the salesman? I asked you, didn’t I, “What would you like?” What would you like? A weapon perhaps, for the way home after dark?

  PORTEN

  A tear-gas pistol!

  GEORGE

  (To JANNINGS, who sits as if he were the boss in his fauteuil.) Do we carry tear-gas pistols?

  (JANNINGS pulls a small riding crop out of his boot and hands it to GEORGE, who puts it on the table. PORTEN looks at it without touching it.)

  JANNINGS

  (Sits with his face turned away from her.) This riding crop will do the trick too.

  GEORGE

  A riding crop like this will do the trick too.

  PORTEN

  I want this one.

  JANNINGS

  Is she our first customer today?

  GEORGE

  (Translates.) A cus
tomer like you should be treated like the first customer of the day. It’s yours!

  PORTEN

  (Takes the crop.) Is it a good one?

  GEORGE

  First-rate.

  PORTEN

  Can I believe you?

  GEORGE

  What reason would I have to trick you? (She hands the crop back to him, and he slashes through the air with it. One can hear the sound. Then he slaps the crop on the table.) Just imagine the sound in the dark! (He hands her the crop.)