Gussie It’s a soliloquy from a tragedy that I like to recite when I’m upset.
Hasty I don’t care for tragedies.
Gussie Oh, Halle, worlds away!—Maybe I shouldn’t blame it all on you. Your father forbade you to write to me—but love surmounts all obstacles.—You’ve forgotten me …
Hasty (suspiciously) Even in bed I have to decipher everything you say.
Gussie (kisses Hasty’s hands with abandon) Oh, heavenly Romeo!
Hasty (crossly) I’m not Romeo, I’m Hasty, if you don’t mind. (Gussie turns to the wall, weeps. Hasty remorsefully kisses her hand and gazes at her for a while) What happened to Abelard could happen to me. I seem to recall that you’ve read the romance, Miss von Berg. Would you recapitulate what you know of Abelard and Héloise?
Gussie When it became known that Abelard and Héloise had secretly married, her uncle, Monsignor Fulbert, canon in Paris, had him seized and deprived of his manhood.
Hasty I hear footsteps in the hall!
Gussie My father—Oh God—you’ve stayed three-quarters of an hour too long. (Hasty hurries away) Oh Fritz, my love!
11
Mrs. von Berg’s parlor. August.
Mrs. von Berg, Count Vermouth, the Major.
Mrs. von Berg (at the spinet) Ah, dear count, so many talents are doomed to hide their light. They find no scope in this narrow world. Oh, to be a singer! With the candles shining on me, perhaps even the footlights. It’s denied us, our station doesn’t permit of such liberties. Do you like this one? (She sings a languishing air)
Count Superb!
Mrs. von Berg Flatterer! I’m not in good voice today. This one … (Sings another)
Count A natural talent. Some have it, some don’t. And if they don’t, nothing helps.
Mrs. von Berg Believe me, it’s training and hard work as well. Sheer will power.
Count I wish Miss Gussie had inherited such genius. Where is she?
Mrs. von Berg Ah, yes. (Hums) I see I’m keeping you. Is there anything more ghastly than an artist—however talented—who doesn’t know when to stop? Just one more, may I? (She sings)
Count Charming. But, madame, am I never to see Miss Gussie again? Has she been well since the hunt the other day?
Mrs. von Berg Thank you for asking. She had a toothache last night, that’s why she must keep out of sight today. And your stomach, count, after the oysters?
Count Oh, I’m used to it.—I must say that Miss Gussie has developed magnificently—blossomed out like a rose since last fall.
Mrs. von Berg These modern young girls … they change from day to day. Those sentimental books they read give them consumptive shadows under their eyes; but then a little drawing from nature brings back the bloom … I always say that proper health begins at forty.
Count And health is the true source of beauty. (Mrs. von Berg plays the spinet again) If Miss Gussie were to come down, I should like to take a stroll in the garden with her. I can’t ask you, dear madame, because of the fontanelle on your leg.
Mrs. von Berg If only certain people were as concerned about my well-being … Since the war the major has had only one interest, his damnable farm. All day he’s in the fields, and when he comes home he sits there like a stick.—Oh, dear count … A few days ago he took it into his head to sleep with me again, but in the middle of the night he jumped out of bed and started … ha, ha, ha, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but you know how ridiculous my husband can be …
Count Started …?
Mrs. von Berg Poring over his account books. And groaning something dreadful. I could hear him down in his study. But his foolishness is nothing to me. Let him turn Quaker or Pietist if he wants to. It won’t make him any uglier or more amiable in my eyes than he is now. (She looks roguishly at the count)
Count (chucks her under the chin) What wicked things you say!
—But where is Gussie? I’d really like to take a stroll with her.
Mrs. von Berg Hush! Here comes the major … Why don’t you go out with him, count? He’ll show you his hothouse.
Count Fancy that!—But it’s your daughter I want to see.
Mrs. von Berg I dare say she’s not dressed yet. The girl is insufferably lazy.
(Major von Berg comes in, his coat bespattered with mud)
Mrs. von Berg (plays Handel’s Largo on the spinet) Well, husband? What have you been up to now? I don’t lay eyes on you from morning to night, and now look at him, count. Doesn’t he look exactly like Terence’s Self-Tormentor in Madame Dacier’s edition? I do believe you’ve been carting manure, Major von Berg.
Count It’s true, major, you’ve never looked so horrible. I’d never have expected farming to go to your head like this.
Mrs. von Berg Avarice, pure, execrable avarice. He thinks we’ll starve if he doesn’t go burrowing in the muck like a mole. He spades, he plows, he harrows. If you must turn peasant, couldn’t you find me another husband first?
Major Zounds, woman, you forget that wars have to be paid for. But it’s true, I never see you ladies any more. Where’s Gussie?
Mrs. von Berg (still playing) Gussie! Gussie! Gussie! That’s all I ever hear! The mole, there’s nothing else left in his head. Only Gussie. His Gussie, always his Gussie.
Major Yes, and you keep her away from me because you’re jealous of her.
Mrs. von Berg How the man speaks to me! As if I kept her locked up. I’m sick of it. She should come down when there are visitors. (Goes out)
Count I am embarrassed, Major von Berg. Permit me to take my leave.
Major Just hang around.
Count (after a pause) Speaking of economics, have you seen a gazette recently? There’s been quite a stir about the king founding a bank in Berlin on the French …
Major Berlin!
Count Don’t say anything against Berlin. We are definitely making progress, all Europe is watching us. First the ballet and now the bank, à la bonne heure!
Major A bank! It’s a rotten business, count, take it from me. We can perish like Sodom without any need for banks and such-like novelties, indeed we can.
Count But think of the ballet. Between you and me, major, I’ve always felt that a brief excursion to Sodom now and then is good for the blood.
(Mrs. von Berg rushes in)
Mrs. von Berg Help! Help! Husband—we’re lost—the family! The family!
Count Madame, what on earth …?
Mrs. von Berg The family—the infamy—oh, I can’t go on. (Falls on a chair) Your daughter!
Major (goes toward her) What’s happened? Out with it! Speak up or I’ll wring your neck!
Mrs. von Berg Your daughter—the tutor—hurry! (She faints)
Major Has he made a whore of her? (Shakes her) Is this what I burrow in the earth for? What’s the good of collapsing? This is no time to collapse. Made a whore of her? Is that it? All right. Let them turn the whole world into a whore, with ballets, banks and spinets. And you, Berg, take up your pitchfork. (To his wife) Come on, you’re a whore too! Watch me! (Tears the doors open) I’ll set an example. That’s what God has preserved me for to this day—to make an example of my wife and children.—Burn it all, burn, burn, burn! (Carries his wife, who is still in a faint, off the stage)
Count Parbleu!
12
Village school near Insterburg.
Wenceslas, Hasty, Lisa.
Wenceslas (sitting at a table, spectacles on his nose, ruling sheets of paper) Who’s there? What is it?
Hasty (who has rushed in breathlessly) Help! Save me! Dear schoolmaster! They’ll kill me!
Wenceslas Who are you?
Hasty The tutor at the castle. Major von Berg is after me with all his servants. He wants to shoot me.
Wenceslas God forbid!—Just sit down quietly.—You’ll be safe with me, here’s my hand on it. Tell me all about it while I write out these exercises.
Hasty Let me collect my wits first.
Wenceslas All right. Get your breath. But tell me this—tutor
—(puts his ruler aside, takes off his spectacles and looks at him for a while) what on earth can have made your master so angry at you?—Would you kindly pass me the sand box?—You see, I have to rule out the lines for my boys, because nothing is harder for them to learn than to write, straight, to write evenly.—The main thing, I always say, is to write not elegantly or quickly, but straight, because handwriting has its effect on everything else, morals, thought, in short everything, my dear Mr. Tutor. A man who can’t write straight, I always say, can’t act straight either.—Where were we? Would you put these sheets over there?
Hasty (who has done so) May I ask you for a glass of water?
Wenceslas Water?—You shall have beer. But—yes, what were we talking about?
Hasty About writing straight.
Wenceslas No, about the major. Ha, ha, ha. Now let’s see. Do you know, Mr.—what is your name?
Hasty Name—my name is—Midge.
Wenceslas Mr. Midge.—Forgotten it, hadn’t you? Strange how our thoughts can give us the slip.
Hasty May I open the window? Oh God, there’s Count Vermouth.
Wenceslas (severely) I need the sand box again, if you please. (Hasty, shaking, hands it to him. Count Vermouth comes in with some servants brandishing pistols. Hasty dashes into another room)
Wenceslas Nervi corrupti!
Count I’m looking for a certain Hasty. A student with a brown braided coat.
Wenceslas Sir, in our village it is customary to remove your hat when addressing the master of the house.
Count The matter is urgent.—Is he here or not?
Wenceslas What can the man have done that you should be looking for him with pistols? (The Count is about to enter the side room; Wenceslas blocks the door) Stop, sir. That is my room. Leave my house this instant, sir, or I shall pull the bell cord and half a dozen sturdy peasants will beat you to a pulp, pistols and all! If you behave like a bandit, you shall be treated like a bandit, sir! The way out is the same as the way in, but in case you’ve forgotten—(He takes him by the hand and leads him out the door)
Hasty (peeps out of the side room) Happy man! Enviable man! I admire you …
Wenceslas Now sit down and have some knackwurst and potato salad after your fright. Lisa! (Lisa comes in) Bring Mr. Midge a pitcher of beer. (Lisa goes out) She’s my ward.—While you’re waiting for your beer, you may as well earn your supper and help me to rule these sheets. It will improve your morals. (Hasty sits down to do the ruling) Who was that rude fellow who wanted you?
Hasty A certain Count Vermouth, the major’s son-in-law to be. He’s jealous of me, because the young lady can’t stand him. That’s all.
Wenceslas But what’s the sense in it? What does the young lady want of you, monsieur ladykiller? Better get that sort of thing out of your head and stick to knackwurst. Go ahead, eat! But don’t make grease spots. And draw the lines evenly, if you please.—I dare say there’s a difference between the major’s table and mine. But when schoolmaster Wenceslas eats his supper, a clear conscience helps him digest it, and when Mr. Midge was eating pheasant with mushroom sauce, his conscience prompted moral qualms that drove every bite he swallowed back into his throat.
Hasty Very true, but that’s not all. You don’t realize how fortunate you are. Have you never seen a slave in a braided coat? Oh, freedom, golden freedom!
Wenceslas (motioning him back to his ruling) That churl wanting to break into my room without so much as a by-your-leave! Just let him come back, with all the majors in the world! Zooks! Now you’ve finished your knackwurst, and the beer isn’t here yet.—Won’t you smoke a pipe with me?
Hasty I’ll be glad to try. I’ve never smoked in all my life.
Wenceslas Of course not, you fine gentlemen, it discolors your teeth, is that it? I started smoking when I was barely weaned. Exchanged my mother’s nipple for the mouthpiece. Ha, ha, ha. Smoke is good for foul air, and for foul cravings as well. Here’s my program: on rising, cold water and a pipe, school till eleven, then another pipe until the soup’s ready. My Lisa’s soup is as good as any French chef’s. Then another pipe, then school until four. Then I write out exercises until supper time. Most usually I have a cold supper, sausage with salad, a piece of cheese, or whatever the good Lord may provide. And then a last pipe before bed.
Hasty God help me, I’ve come to a smoking den!
Wenceslas And with all that I’m fat and healthy and cheerful, and I haven’t even begun to think about death.
Hasty You earn good wages, I presume?
Wenceslas Wages? That’s a stupid question, Mr. Midge. Forgive me, did you say wages? My wages are from God, a good conscience. Have you any idea what it means to be a schoolmaster? (He struts awesomely to and fro) I shape human beings in my own image. German heroes! Healthy minds in healthy bodies, not French monkeys. On the one hand, as it were, mental giants, on the other hand, good subjects. And what does that mean? Does it mean subjected giants or gigantic subjects? It means: reach for the stars, but God help you if you kick against the pricks!—Won’t you have a smoke? Go on, have a pipe. Conquer yourself—no, not you, the German hero—if you would conquer the world. I’ll take the cane to you if ever you … Oh dear (he snatches the goose quill which Hasty has been picking his teeth with) what are you doing! A grown man! Haven’t you even learned to take care of your own body? Picking the teeth is suicide. There. If something gets stuck in your teeth (takes water and rinses his mouth) this is the thing to do, if you want to have sound teeth. Go on, do it! (Hasty does so)
Hasty He’s going to schoolmaster me to death.
Wenceslas You don’t care for the pipe? Just spend a few days with old Wenceslas, and I’ll wager this hand will shape you so you won’t know yourself.—I assume, young man, that without a reference your tutoring days are over. And you can’t hope for a position in a village school because the king, now that his war is over, is putting in his disabled sergeants as schoolmasters. Yes, that’s how it is. You’re probably weak in Latin, but as a tutor you must have a likely handwriting. You could lend me a hand in the evening. It’s time I began to spare my eyes. You could write out the exercises for my boys. But you will have to work hard, I can tell you that!
Hasty The humiliation!
(The Major, the Privy Councillor and Count Vermouth enter with servants)
Major (with pistol drawn) The deuce …! There he sits like a rabbit in the cabbage patch. (He shoots and hits Hasty in the arm. Hasty tumbles from his chair)
Privy Councillor (has vainly tried to restrain the Major) Brother! (Pushes him angrily) Now you’ve done it, you fool!
Major Hey! Are you dead? Speak to me! Where is my daughter?
Wenceslas Your lordships! Is the last judgment on its way? (He reaches for the bread knife) I’ll teach you to assault a Christian in his own house!
Hasty Don’t, I implore you!—It’s the major. I deserved it for what I did to his daughter.
Privy Councillor Worthy schoolmaster, is there a surgeon in the village? He’s wounded in the arm. I want to have him cared for.
Wenceslas Cared for! You bandits! Do you think you can shoot people down because you’re rich enough to have them cared for? He’s my assistant. He’s been in my house exactly one year. A quiet, peaceful, industrious man. And you barge in and shoot down my assistant before my very eyes!—I’ll be avenged!
Privy Councillor (motions a servant to bandage Hasty) What’s the good of lying, my dear man? We know the whole story. (To the Major) I shall send Fritz to Italy, he must never hear of this.—He’ll bleed to death. Run for a surgeon!
Wenceslas Nonsense! If you make wounds, you can heal them yourselves, you bandits! I’m not running to get the surgeon, I’m running to ring the tocsin. (Leaves)
(Servants put Hasty back on his chair. Hasty comes to)
Major And now to you! If it takes red-hot pincers: Where is my daughter?
Hasty If your worship had only granted me a horse to ride to Königsberg, as you agreed to!
Ma
jor What’s the horse got to do with it, you scoundrel? Where’s my daughter?
Hasty I don’t know.
Major You don’t know? (Draws another pistol)
Lisa (comes in with the beer) Don’t shoot! Poor Mr. Midge! (Throws herself in front of Hasty)
Privy Councillor (snatches the pistol from the Major and fires it out the window) Do we have to put you in chains, you … (To Hasty) Answer us!
Hasty I haven’t seen her since I escaped from your house. I swear to God before whose judgment seat I may soon stand.
Berliner Ensemble Adaptations Page 6
