Fires

2. Act Two

The same scene as Act I.

[Marie, seated, with some linen in her lap, at the sewing-machine, looking dreamily out of the window.]

Housekeeper Katie.

[In door R.] May I come in, Miss Marie?

Marie.

Oh, is that you? Yes, come in!

Katie.

I see you are working on Miss Gertrude's wedding outfit. How beautiful, fit for a princess. But what I wanted to ask you: Madame has given me the menu for the wedding feast, and as to fish, it calls for carp. Now you know I am economical, but carp--common carp----

Marie.

Why, carp is a very fine fish----

Katie.

Oh yes, and good enough for--say--your wedding feast; but not good enough for Miss Gertrude.

Marie.

For my wedding feast even carp is too good.

Katie.

Oh no; carp is not too good for you, though it may be good enough--and do you know I will prepare a special Polish sauce--but Miss Gertrude--she must have deep sea fish. Now will you see Madame about that, please?

Marie.

Very well, I will speak to mama about it.

Katie.

And you are not offended?

Marie.

Oh no!

Katie.

For, after all, you know, you are only a foundling.

Marie.

Oh yes, I know.

Katie.

But we all love you, Miss Marie, and----

Marie.

Thank you. But have you seen Mr. von Harten this morning?

Katie.

No, I have not! But I have some good news for you--the assistant pastor has fallen deeply in love with you.

Marie.

Yes?

Katie.

And he is going to ask for your hand!!! I always said you were a lucky girl. Just think, you may be a St. John's-bride.

Marie.

And what is a St. John's-bride?

Katie.

You don't know that, Miss Marie? Well, I'll tell you. It is written in the new seal of Solomonis: "Whoever shall give or receive their first kiss on St. John's eve, their love is sealed and they will be faithful unto death." So it is written in the new seal of Solomonis.

Gertrude.

[Enter C., hands behind her, with bouquet.]

Marie, I have something for you. No, first I want Katie to leave the room. Go now, go!!!

Katie.

Oh, I am going--I am going!!!!!!!!! [Exit.]

Gertrude.

Shut your eyes now! [Marie does so, as Gertrude holds bouquet to Marie's face.] Now what is it?

Marie.

The tulip-tree! the first blossoms from our manzanillo-tree! It blooms--it blooms!!! [Burying her face in the flowers.]

Gertrude.

Are you glad, Marie?

Marie.

Yes, darling, so glad!!! Thank you!

Gertrude.

And do you know who picked them?--George!

Marie.

For me?

Gertrude.

Why, of course, for you!

Marie.

He--did this--for me?

Gertrude.

He would do even more than that for me, I am sure!

Marie.

Oh yes, certainly! But where is he now?

Gertrude.

I don't know!

Marie.

Did he say he had to go somewhere?

Gertrude.

Yes, he had to go out on the fields, he said--and that was quite some time ago. I wanted to accompany him, I begged and begged, but he flatly refused to let me go.

Marie.

[Breathing heavily.] Oh!!!!!!!!

Gertrude.

I don't know how it is; but to-day he is acting so strangely. Papa has asked for him several times--and do you know, dear, at times he is not at all pleasant to me!

Marie.

But why should he----

Gertrude.

That's just it! why should he? Oh, if I only knew--if I was only certain he loved me--and then, another thing--I don't know if I should tell you--I have a growing fear, some other girl will take him away from me.

Marie.

[With forced laugh.] Away from you, dear? how could that be possible?

Gertrude.

Oh yes, you may laugh; but at times, when he looks at me, I see a strange look come in his eyes. Half affection--half pity--and I don't want to be pitied! Why should he? Am I not happy?

Marie.

[Caressing her.] Yes, dear; you ought to be very, very happy.

Gertrude.

But I cannot rid myself of the fear, perhaps he really loves another and is only taking compassion on me! Oh, if I only knew----

Marie.

But, my darling----

Gertrude.

For you see, I am still so young--and think, how ill-mannered I was only this morning! I was so sorry afterwards--but I do love to laugh. [Laughs.]

Marie.

[With strange y desperate tone of voice.] And you shall laugh--laugh--laugh--so--so!!!!!!!

Gertrude.

Mama, too, insists that my love for him is only that of a child and not of a woman and a bride; but you see she would rather I'd not marry at all and so remain at home with her all my life. But you will be good to her, won't you? You will soon be her only one.

Marie.

I----?

Gertrude.

Why yes!

Marie.

I shall soon know whose only one I am!

Gertrude.

What are you saying?

Marie.

[As George enters.] There he is!

[Gertrude runs towards him. Marie takes a few steps, then hesitates and stops.]

Gertrude.

[Pulling him, as she runs towards him.] Oh, George!!! [Then] Confound you!

George.

[Reproachfully.] Gertrude!!!!!!

Gertrude.

[Crushed.] Why, what did I say?

George.

[Lovingly.] Now listen to me, little one. Such language may be excusable in your papa, but never in my bride.

Gertrude.

[Pouting.] Everything I say seems to displease you. You never find fault with Marie! You can go and marry her!!!

George.

Marie does not want to marry me.

Marie.

My very best thanks, George!

George.

For what?

Marie.

[Picking up bouquet.] For this!

George.

Oh, don't mention it.

Marie.

Were you out in the fields?

George.

Yes.

Gertrude.

Yes, papa is angry with you, too. He is looking for you!

George.

Oh yes--I know----! Well?

Marie.

In what direction did you go?

George.

I have been everywhere.

Marie.

And have you found----?

Gertrude.

What was he to find?

George.

Yes, what was I to find? But, children, your tulip-tree is certainly a strange fellow. There he stands, blooming alone, like the last rose of summer----

Gertrude.

My great-grandfather brought it from South America!

George.

[To Marie.] And that is why you love it so, because it is so foreign and strange?

Marie.

[Busy with linen.] Perhaps!

Gertrude.

No, that is not the reason----

Marie.

Well then, what is it?

Gertrude.

I'm going to tell on you. One day papa took her to the Opera, down in the city; there they saw the African----

George.

"L'Africaine," you mean?

Gertrude.

Yes, yes, that's what she called it.

Marie.

Gertrude, please don't----

Gertrude.

In that play occurs a poison-tree--I think----

George.

Yes, a manzanillo-tree!

Gertrude.

Yes, yes; and whosoever inhales the odor of its blossoms must die. And do you know what she did? Oh, yes, I did the same--we would go to this tree, smell of its blossoms, and lay down----

George.

To die?

Gertrude.

To die.

Marie.

Now you can imagine, George, how long ago that must have been.

Gertrude.

Yes, it was long, long ago. But about four years ago, one day Marie really wanted to die very badly.

[Marie casts a frightened glance at George, who returns it thoughtfully.]

Gertrude.

But we didn't.

George.

No, no, thank heaven. Now, little one, run along and tell papa that I am here.

Gertrude.

Marie, will you come, too?

Marie.

No; I think I will remain here a little while longer.

Gertrude.

Then I'll stay, too.

George.

Now, little one----

[Gertrude exits with a sigh.]

Marie.

[Quickly and suppressed.] Did you find her? [George nods.] Will she come? Why don't you answer?

George.

Marie, when you exacted this promise from me this morning, I did not realize what it meant. I had never seen your--I don't want to speak that word--I had never seen this person until to-day. She must not come to this house, secretly--she must not!!!

Marie.

George!!!

George.

Take uncle into your confidence, at least.

Marie.

No, no one--no one but you!!

George.

What do you want with her? You know you belong to this house. Here you have everything your heart desires. Here you have love--here you have----

Marie.

[Interrupts him.] Bread! Why don't you say it? Yes, here I have bread!

George.

I did not mean to say that.

Marie.

No; but I did! And do I not earn it, as well as the little love I obtain in this house? I am "The Calamity Child"--and I do not ask for charity.

George.

You seem to be possessed of the very devil to-day!

Marie.

Perhaps!

George.

I implore you, do not insist. I fear the consequence. You will see! for whatever is done against nature, punishes itself.

Marie.

And is it against nature when a child cries out for its own mother?

George.

She is not your mother; your mother is in this house.

Marie.

Gertrude's mother is in this house, not mine. A mother must feel for her child, she must see----

George.

Sh--sh!

[Enter Gertrude.]

Gertrude.

You two are continually talking in whispers; can't you tell me? It makes me so unhappy!

Marie.

[Caressing her.] But darling, it is all done for your sake!

[During this, George looks at her disapprovingly, while Marie casts a timid glance at him.]

Brauer.

[Enters.] At last you have come. Where in thunder have you been all day? It almost seemed to me as if you were trying to avoid me!

George.

But, uncle----

Brauer.

Well, girls, have you prepared the pastor's eggnog?

Marie.

Oh, I had entirely forgotten it.

Brauer.

Then see to it at once. And don't forget the sugar, you know.

Marie.

Yes, papa.

Brauer.

And Gertrude dear, you can go and help her. It is time you were learning to do something yourself.

Gertrude.

Yes, papa!

Marie.

I hardly think it will be ready in time to take with you and mama.

Brauer.

Then bring it later--yourself.

Marie.

[With a glance at George.] Could not Gertrude bring it, papa? I have so much work to do!

Gertrude.

No, no, papa!!!

Brauer.

Yes, yes, you shall!--bring it up when done; and mind, you remain at the pastor's as long as your mother and I, this time. Understand?

Gertrude.

Oh, papa dear! The last time, the old pastor insisted upon holding my hand in his so long; and they are so cold and clammy, so shriveled and hairy, like the hands of the dead!

Brauer.

Come here, my child. Those hairy hands once christened you, and at your confirmation the same shriveled hands were laid upon your head and invoked for you the blessings of heaven; and would you, after all that, refuse to hold them in your own warm young hands? My daughter, I do not wish to hear that again. [Kisses her.]

Marie.

[Slowly has approached George. Softly, aside to him.] You will do as I ask?

Brauer.

And now, leave us.

[Marie and Gertrude exit.]

"Now, then, comes your turn," says the stork to the worm.

George.

[Looking after the girls, turns.] I suppose so, but take a care, uncle, I am not so easily digested.

Brauer.

We shall see! We shall see!

George.

What do you want with me? My financial condition is satisfactory. I have a good position, and my future is assured. I desire to enjoy the results of my own labors, not those of yours.

Brauer.

So, so!

George.

Yes, dear uncle. If you were so determined upon giving a large dowry, you should have found another husband for Gertrude than myself.

Brauer.

[Riled.] Oh, hang you and your confounded pride!

George.

Yes, I am proud; and because of my pride and determination, and, I may say, defiance, I have become what I am!

Brauer.

[Rather arrogantly.] And was there no diligence?

George.

That, also, was nothing but defiance.

Brauer.

I almost believe you are determined to create another rumpus, as you did twelve years ago.

George.

If necessary, yes!

Brauer.

And was it necessary, even then?

George.

You ask me that question? When one day I came here, during vacation from college, you insisted upon my attending your church. I refused. You gave me my choice, either to do as you asked, or have my allowance cut off. Then I resolved in my mind never to comply with your command, in spite of everything. Oh, it is no pleasure to hunger, as I was forced to do then; but you may believe me, as I stand before you now, a free and independent man, I owe all of it to my stubborn confidence in myself, looking neither to right nor left, but straight ahead, without concessions, without falsehoods, always able to look every man straight in the face. And this good conscience is my proudest possession. From it do I draw all my strength, and I will never give it up.

Brauer.

Well, who the devil asked you to give it up?

George.

And one thing more. Of course, I belong to this house; fate has made it my lot. Therefore it has ever been far from my mind to seek a wife elsewhere, so strongly attached do I feel myself to this house; and that would have been impossible, had I not from that day been a free man. And now, dear uncle, you are at heart a good and kind man; but your hand is heavy, and it must not lie upon me again as that of the master. For that reason do I refuse to touch even one penny of the dowry, now or any other time.

Brauer.

So, so! Then you are really afraid of me?

George.

Afraid of you? Bah!!!

Brauer.

And at heart you are nothing but a coward!!

George.

Uncle, I forbid you----

Brauer.

You forbid me? Ha! This is my house, and here I am the master!

[George shrugs his shoulders.]

Brauer.

Yes, yes; it seems to annoy you to have any one keep an eye on you and your conduct----

George.

My life has been as an open book to this day.

Brauer.

But after to-day--what about that? Who can look into the future? Who can look into your heart and read your thoughts? Who knows what may happen over night, eh?

George.

Uncle, these are insults I will not endure, even from you----

Brauer.

Well; What then! Come on! [Jumps up, facing him, ready to fight.]

Mrs. Brauer.

[Enters, ready to go out, dressed.] Henry, what on earth have you done to Gertrude? She is in her room, crying as if her heart would break.

[Marie has also come in with Mrs. Brauer.]

Brauer.

How is the eggnog getting on, Marie?

Marie.

It is not quite done, papa!

Brauer.

Then let her have her cry; she can bring it up later.

Marie.

Yes, papa.

Mrs. Brauer.

And are you ready?

Brauer.

Ready for what?

Mrs. Brauer.

Are you ready to go now?

Brauer.

Well, wait for me out on the veranda; we have something to settle first, we two!

Mrs. Brauer.

What's the matter with George?

Brauer.

Oh, I have just asked him for an explanation, and that does not seem to please him.

Mrs. Brauer.

[Caressing him.] Don't you mind him, George dear. After the wedding you can laugh at him.

Brauer.

Well, we shall see about that!!!

[Mrs. Brauer and Marie exit.]

Brauer.

We can't go on like this, for I fear the consequences; but, nevertheless, I shall handle you without gloves.

George.

Well?

Brauer.

My child loves you. You are her ideal, her all, and the wedding must take place. But tell me, what right have you to all this pride--I might even say arrogance?

George.

Must I perhaps ask your permission----?

Brauer.

That is the same old defiance, the same unreasonable stubbornness of your father's!!!!!

George.

[Starts.] My father has been dead these twenty years--what do you want of him now?

Brauer.

What do I want of him? That he left you to me, to bring up from childhood, I will hardly mention; although that ought to be sufficient to temper your untamable pride--at least towards me; but----

George.

Uncle, you may abuse me as much as you please, but my father I will not have disturbed! My father--you shall let him rest in peace!

Brauer.

And who was it--who took care--who made it possible, that he could rest in peace?

George.

Uncle, what do you mean?

Brauer.

Well then, who was it, when he laid there, dead, before us, who paid his debts of honor and saved your father's name from disgrace?

[Pause.]

George.

Uncle, you should not have said that!

[Sinks in chair and covers his face with his hands.]

Brauer.

My boy----[Emotion stops him from saying more--walks about.] See here----[Again the same--tries to light a cigar, breaks it and throws it away.]

George.

You should not have said that, uncle! No, no----

Brauer.

My God, you knew of it?

George.

Yes, I knew of it, and yet you should not have said it; you should not have repeated it. Twelve years ago, in our quarrel, when you raised your whip to me--and I reached for the carving-knife--no, no--I should not have done that. You should not have raised your whip, nor I the knife. That is the reason I refused anything from you at all. Now you know it. From that day I swore to scratch the gold from the ground with my finger nails and fling it in your face. From that day I hated you--and rightly so!

Brauer.

And all that because I saved your and your father's name from dishonor and disgrace?

George.

No! But because you turned that same deed into a weapon to crush my youthful pride.

Brauer.

My boy, one uses the weapon nearest to hand.

George.

[Bitterly.] Even if it is only a whip. But then, I see my mistake. I have no right to pride; my fatherly inheritance does not permit it. Give me your gold! I'll take it! All--all!

Brauer.

No, no; in your present state of mind I will force nothing on you. You might again turn to hating me.

George.

Ah no, dear uncle, that is past. Hereafter, I will swallow my pride.

Brauer.

My boy----

Marie.

[Enters.] Pardon me papa, but mama asks, if you are not yet ready to go?

Brauer.

[With a glance at George.] Well, as far as I am concerned, I am ready now! [Takes his hat.] Marie, give him a glass of brandy to brace him up. [Goes to door and returns.]. George?

George.

Uncle? [Brauer offers his hand.] My hand I cannot refuse you.

Brauer.

[Goes to door. In door.] Yes, and your heart, too, I will win again--or I'll be damned!!!!

[Exits, slamming door.]

Marie.

What did he say to you, George?

George.

Do not ask me, do not ask me! [Walks about.] All these years I have struggled and deprived myself with only one thing in view--to be free--free--and yet I must bow--I must bow. If it were not for the sake of this beautiful child, who is innocent of it all, I would be tempted to---- But the die is cast, the yoke is ready--and so am I!!!!!!!

Marie.

[Softly and hesitating.] But, George, dear, here in this house, I see nothing for you but love--the yoke seems so light----

George.

How pious and tame you have suddenly become!

Marie.

I am not pious.

George.

What was that you said a few moments ago? "I am the calamity child. I am the child of misery; but I do not ask for charity." That is what you said of yourself, and it is also true of me. I, too, am a child of misery, a calamity child; but I am a subject of charity. I accept all they have to give--all--all--ha, ha, ha----!

Marie.

You, George, a calamity child?

George.

Yes! Was I not picked up from the street, as my uncle so kindly informed me for the second time--like yourself? Do I not belong to this house, and am I not smothered with the damnable charity of my benefactors, like yourself?

Marie.

I receive my share with thanks.

George.

And you enjoy serving----

Marie.

I enjoy serving!!

George.

But I--I wish to rule--to command!!!

Marie.

And you shall rule--you shall command----

George.

[Walking about and ironically.] Ah yes!!!

Marie.

[Timidly.] George?

George.

Well?

Marie.

[The same.] Pardon me; but have you forgotten--?

George.

Oh, I see!

Marie.

I know it is wrong in me to annoy you at this time, when you are so occupied with affairs of your own---- Besides, you have already refused me once----

George.

Wha--yes, now in spite of them all, I am my own master. I am responsible to no one. I have promised you--I shall keep my word!!!!!

Marie.

Thank you, George!

George.

Oh, don't thank me----



Marie.

Where is she now?

George.

She is waiting, behind yonder garden hedge.

Marie.

My God! Do not keep her waiting any longer; call her in here.

George.

Gertrude is still in the house.

Marie.

I will get her out of the way. When I appear out there on the veranda, the coast is clear!!

George.

Marie, for your own sake, I warn you for the last time; discovery means certain disaster.

Marie.

One disaster more or less, it matters little!

George.

Is that your last word? Very well, I will bring her to you. [Gets his hat and goes out centre door.]

Marie.

[Opens door L. and calls out.] Gertrude! Gertrude!

[A door is heard to open.]

Gertrude.

[Outside with crying voice.] What is it?

Marie.

Come quickly, or papa will be angry!

Gertrude.

[After a moment's pause.] I am coming! [Another short pause and she appears in door.]

Marie.

How red your eyes are! You have been crying! What's the matter, dear? [Caressing her.]

Gertrude.

Where is George?

Marie.

[Lightly.] He went out again a few moments ago.

Gertrude.

And he didn't ask to see me?

Marie.

He heard you were crying and did not want to disturb you.

Gertrude.

But, Marie, what is the matter with your own eyes? And you look so queerly----

Marie.

My pet, they are the eyes that God has given me and----

Gertrude.

[Suspiciously.] What?

[A knock at door is heard.]

Marie.

Come in!

Maid Servant.

[Enters with basket.] Here are the eggnog and cakes, for the pastor. Now be careful and don't crush them!

Marie.

Very well!

[Exit Servant.]

Gertrude.

[Taking basket.] Good-bye, Marie!

Marie.

Good-bye, Gertie dear!

[Gertrude starts towards centre door.]

Marie.

[Frightened.] Where are you going?

Gertrude.

I am going through the garden across the fields; perhaps I will meet George.

Marie.

[Concerned.] No, no; you must not walk across the fields alone. Papa has forbidden it.

Gertrude.

But I may meet George.

Marie.

But if you shouldn't, what then? No, no, I will not allow it! I will not! I had such a fright last night.

Gertrude.

[Goes up to the other door and turns back once more.] Marie, you are not angry with me?

Marie.

[Embracing her.] My darling!!!

Gertrude.

Then I will go that way! [Looks all around.] Give my love to George!

Marie.

But I won't see him, dear----

Gertrude.

Well, perhaps you may!

Marie.

In that case, I will tell him----

Gertrude.

Very well.

[Exit R.]

[Marie goes out on veranda--gives sign--returns--locks doors R. and L.--then at C. door--in terror, with searching eyes, she slowly retreats backwards, her eyes glued on the outer darkness--until she finally covers her face with her hands, and is standing against the wall.]

George.

[Enters.] Here she is!!

Gypsy.

[Enters. George goes out on veranda, looking off.] Mine lady, mine daughter--yes--don't be afraid. Oh, you are such a fine lady--you have lover--you marry, they say----?

Marie.

[Forcing herself to speak.] No; I'm not to be married! It is Gertrude, my foster sister.

Gypsy.

You no marry, eh? Never mind--you marry some day--some day [Examining Marie's dress with her fingers.] What a fine dress you have, and all wool---- [Same with apron.] Oh, and a silk apron--all silk! Give me, give me?

[Marie takes it off and gives it to her.]

Gypsy.

Thank you--thank you!!! [Kisses Marie's sleeve and dress, but when she would kiss her hand, Marie withdraws it quickly.]

Marie.

No, no! Ne dosu ranka!

Gypsy.

All right, all right! You are fine lady. [Looks about.] Is the old man home, eh?

Marie.

No, he is out.

Gypsy.

That is good, that is good! He is an old devil--is the old man! All Prussians are devils. But he have fine house, he have! Like a prince!!! [Rubs her hand over table cover.] Ah, nice shawl that would make---- [Sees linen.] And what fine linen--[Motions to Marie.] Come here!

Marie.

[Approaching her.] What do you want?

Gypsy.

[Pointing with thumb.] Give me an drink--just an little drink! [Indicates with finger and thumb.]

[While Marie turns to sideboard, she quickly takes two or three pieces of linen and with left hand holds them hidden under her apron.]

Gypsy.

[After taking drink from Marie.] Thanks, mine daughter, thanks! [After drinking, rubs her stomach.] Ah, that's good, that's good!--Give me another! [Marie fills another glass for her--she drinks it.] Thank you, thank you!! But now I must be going!

[In her anxiety to get out she drops one piece, while going to the door.]

Marie.

[Horrified.] Mo--mo--what were you trying to do?

Gypsy.

[Pretending surprise.] My, my--just see! I found this out on the field. [Picks it up and puts it under her arm.]

Marie.

Put that down, it is not yours.

Gypsy.

[Doing so.] All right, all right--my--my--my----

Marie.

Put down all you have!

Gypsy.

I have no more, no, no more, I swear!

Marie.

[Goes quickly to door and calls.] George!

George.

[Enters.] Well?

Marie.

Give me some money! [He gives her a gold piece.] [Marie to her mother.] Here, here is money; now give me the linen----

Gypsy.

[Takes the money as she gives up the linen, greedily.] A ducat! A whole ducat! A golden ducat! Mine daughter, thank you!

Marie.

And now, go!

Gypsy.

[Goes anxiously to the door.] Alright, alright!!!

[Throws a kiss to Marie, and quick exit.]

Marie.

[Quickly takes key from board.] George, take this key and lock the garden gate after her, so she does not return.

[George exits. Marie looks after them, then slowly returns to the table, leans against same, and stares vacantly. Knock is heard at door L.]

Marie.

[Mechanically.] Come in!

Servant.

[Trying the door from the outside.] The door is locked!

[Marie opens the door.]

Servant.

[Enters with dishes.] It is time to lay the table for supper--will you help me, please? Why, what's the matter? You are not listening to me----

Marie.

Never mind, Lena, I will set the table myself!

Servant.

Will you? Very well!!! [Exit Servant.]

George.

[Enters. To Marie, who does not stir.] Remember what I told you. But come, come, this will never do! Don't stare at me like that----

Marie.

[Leaning on him and weeping.] Oh, George!

George. [Stroking her hair.] That's it, dear, the tears will relieve you! Ah, I well know the anguish of an aching heart!

Marie.

Yes, you know, you know all! Now I have no one in this whole world but you--you alone. [As she bursts out crying she throws herself on his breast.]

George.

[Stroking her hair.] Yes, yes; we two understand each other. We two were meant, were intended for each other. Were we not, dear?

Marie.

My God! Yes!!

George.

And we will ever remember this day--the day that brought us together. It is the day before St. John's Eve. Will you remember it, dear?

[Short pause. Marie silent, then struggles to free herself.]

Marie.

Don't, George! Go away! Please don't!

George.

[Embarrassed.] But why should I suddenly go away, Marie?

Marie.

Go, George, I beg of you! I must lay the table!! Now go!

George.

Marie, you said yourself you had no one but me!

Marie.

If you do not want to despise me, please go----

George.

[With forced laugh.] I despise you? Very well--I'll go----

[Turns once more in the door and hesitatingly exits.]

[Marie breaks down, weeping.]

[Curtain.]



END OF THE SECOND ACT.