ACT I
SCENE FIRST
A Dwelling Room
Wendla
Why have you made my dress so long, Mother?
Frau Bergmann
You are fourteen years old to-day.
Wendla
Had I known you were going to make my dress so long, I would rather not have been fourteen.
Frau Bergmann
The dress is not too long, Wendla. What do you want? Can I help it that my child is two inches taller every spring? As a grown-up maiden you cannot go about in short dresses.
Wendla
At any rate, my short dress becomes me better than this nightgown.—Let me wear it again, Mother, only through this summer. This penitential robe will fit me just as well whether I am fifteen or fourteen. Let's put it aside until my next birthday, now I should only tear the flounces.
Frau Bergmann
I don't know what to say. I want to take special care of you just now, child. Other girls are hardy and plump at your age. You are the contrary.–Who knows what you will be when the others have developed?
Wendla
Who knows—possibly I shall not be at all.
Frau Bergmann
Child, child, how do such thoughts come to you!
Wendla
Don't, dear Mother, don't be sad.
Frau Bergmann
(Kissing her.)
My own darling!
Wendla
They come to me at night when I can't sleep. I am not made sad by them, and I believe that I sleep better after them. Is it sinful, Mother, to have such thoughts?
Frau Bergmann
Go hang the long dress up in the closet. Put on your short dress again, in God's name!—I will put another depth of ruffles on it.
Wendla
(Hanging the dress in the closet.)
No, I would rather be twenty at once–!
Frau Bergmann
If only you are not too cold!–The dress was long enough for you in its time, but–
Wendla
Now, when summer is coming?–Mother, when one is a child, one doesn't catch diphtheria in one's knees! Who would be so cowardly. At my age one doesn't freeze—least of all in the legs. Would it be any better for me to be too warm, Mother? Give thanks to God if some day your darling doesn't tear out the sleeves and come to you at twilight without her shoes and stockings!—If I wore my long dress I should dress like an elfin queen under it.—Don't scold, Mother! Nobody sees it any more.
SCENE SECOND
Sunday Evening
Melchior
This is too tiresome for me. I won't do anything more with it.
Otto
Then we others can stop, too!–Have you the work, Melchior?
Melchior
Keep right on playing!
Moritz
Where are you going?
Melchior
For a walk.
George
But it's growing dark!
Robert
Have you the work already?
Melchior
Why shouldn't I go walking in the dark?
Ernest
Central America!–Louis the Fifteenth!–Sixty verses of Homer!–Seven equations!
Melchior
Damn the work!
George
If only Latin composition didn't come to-morrow!
Moritz
One can't think of anything without a task intervening.
Otto
I'm going home.
George
I, too, to work.
Ernest
I, too, I too.
Robert
Good-night, Melchior.
Melchior
Sleep well! (All withdraw save Moritz and Melchior.) I'd like to know why we really are on earth!
Moritz
I'd rather be a cab-horse than go to school!–Why do we go to school?–We go to school so that somebody can examine us!–And why do they examine us?–In order that we may fail. Seven must fail, because the upper classroom will hold only sixty.–I feel so queer since Christmas.–The devil take me, if it were not for Papa, I'd pack my bundle and go to Altoona to-day!
Melchior
Let's talk of something else–
(They go for a walk.)
Moritz
Do you see that black cat there with its tail sticking up?
Melchior
Do you believe in omens?
Moritz
I don't know exactly. They come down to us. They don't matter.
Melchior
I believe that is the Charybdis on which one runs when one steers clear of the Scylla of religious folly.–Let's sit down under this beech tree. The cool wind blows over the mountains. Now I should like to be a young dryad up there in the wood to cradle myself in the topmost branches and be rocked the livelong night.
Moritz
Unbutton your vest, Melchior.
Melchior
Ha!–How clothes make one puff up!
Moritz
God knows, it's growing so dark that one can't see one's hand before one's eyes. Where are you?–Do you believe, Melchior, that the feeling of shame in man is only a product of his education?
Melchior
I was thinking over that for the first time the day before yesterday. It seems to me deeply rooted in human nature. Only think, you must appear entirely clothed before your best friend. You wouldn't do so if he didn't do the same thing.–Therefore, it's more or less of a fashion.
Moritz
I have often thought that if I have children, boys and girls, I will let them occupy the same room; let them sleep together in the same bed, if possible; let them help each other dress and undress night and morning. In hot weather, the boys as well as the girls, should wear nothing all day long but a short white woolen tunic with a girdle.–It seems to me that if they grew up that way they would be easier in mind than we are under the present regulations.
Melchior
I believe so decidedly, Moritz!–The only question is, suppose the girls have children, what then?
Moritz
How could they have children?
Melchior
In that respect I believe in instinct. I believe, for example, that if one brought up a male and a female cat together, and kept both separated from the outside world–that is, left them entirely to their own devices–that, sooner or later, the she cat would become pregnant, even if she, and the tom cat as well, had nobody to open their eyes by example.
Moritz
That might happen with animals–
Melchior
I believe the same of human beings. I assure you, Moritz, if your boys sleep in the same bed with the girls, and the first emotion of manhood comes unexpectedly to them—I should like to wager with anyone–
Moritz
You may be right—but after all–
Melchior
And when your girls reached the same age it would be the same with them! Not that the girls exactly—one can't judge that the same, certainly—at any rate, it is supposable—and then their curiosity must not be left out of account.
Moritz
A question, by the way–
Melchior
Well?
Moritz
But you will answer?
Melchior
Naturally!
Moritz
Truly?!
Melchior
My hand on it.–Now, Moritz?
Moritz
Have you written your composition yet??
Melchior
Speak right out from your heart!–Nobody sees or hears us here.
Moritz
Of course, my children will have to work all day long in yard or garden, or find their amusement in games which are combined with physical exercise. They must ride, do gymnastics, climb, and, above all things, must not sleep as soft as we do. We are weakened frightfully.–I believe one would not dream if one slept harder.
Melchior
From now until fall I shall sleep only in my hammock. I have shoved my bed back of the stove. It is a folding one. Last winter I dreamed once that I flogged our Lolo until he couldn't move a limb. That was the most gruesome thing I ever dreamed.–Why do you look at me so strangely?
Moritz
Have you experienced it yet?
Melchior
What?
Moritz
How do you say it?
Melchior
Manhood's emotion?
Moritz
M—'hm.
Melchior
Certainly!
Moritz
I also – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Melchior
I've known that for a long while!–Almost for a year.
Moritz
I was startled as if by lightning.
Melchior
Did you dream?
Moritz
Only for a little while—of legs in light blue tights, that strode over the teacher's desk—to be correct, I thought they wanted to go over it. I only saw them for an instant.
Melchior
George Zirschnitz dreamed of his mother.
Moritz
Did he tell you that?
Melchior
Out there on the gallow's road.
Moritz
If you only knew what I have endured since that night!
Melchior
Qualms of conscience?
Moritz
Qualms of conscience??–The anguish of death!
Melchior
Good Lord–
Moritz
I thought I was incurable. I believed I was suffering from an inward hurt.–Finally I became calm enough to begin to jot down the recollections of my life. Yes, yes, dear Melchior, the last three weeks have been a Gethsemane for me.
Melchior
I was more or less prepared for it when it came. I felt a little ashamed of myself.–But that was all.
Moritz
And yet you are a whole year younger than I am.
Melchior
I wouldn't bother about that, Moritz. All my experience shows that the appearance of this phantom belongs to no particular age. You know that big Lämmermeier with the straw-colored hair and the hooked nose. He is three years older than I am. Little Hans Rilow says Lämmermeier dreams now only of tarts and apricot preserves.
Moritz
But, I ask you, how can Hans Rilow know that?
Melchior
He asked him.
Moritz
He asked him?–I didn't dare ask anybody.
Melchior
But you asked me.
Moritz
God knows, yes!–Possibly Hans, too, has made his will.–Truly they play a remarkable game with us. And we're expected to give thanks for it. I don't remember to have had any longing for this kind of excitement. Why didn't they let me sleep peacefully until all was still again. My dear parents might have had a hundred better children. I came here, I don't know how, and must be responsible because I didn't stay away.–Haven't you often wondered, Melchior, by what means we were brought into this whirl?
Melchior
Don't you know that yet either, Moritz?
Moritz
How should I know it? I see how the hens lay eggs, and hear that Mamma had to carry me under her heart. But is that enough?–I remember, too, when I was a five year old child, to have been embarrassed when anyone turned up the décolleté queen of hearts. This feeling has disappeared. At the same time, I can hardly talk with a girl to-day without thinking of something indecent, and—I swear to you, Melchior—I don't know what.
Melchior
I will tell you everything. I have gotten it partly from books, partly from illustrations, partly from observations of nature. You will be surprised; it made me an atheist. I told it to George Zirschnitz! George Zirschnitz wanted to tell it to Hans Rilow, but Hans Rilow had learned it all from his governess when he was a child.
Moritz
I have gone through Meyer's Little Encyclopedia from A to Z. Words—nothing but words and words! Not a single plain explanation. Oh, this feeling of shame!–What good to me is an encyclopedia that won't answer me concerning the most important question in life?
Melchior
Did you ever see two dogs running together about the streets?
Moritz
No!–Don't tell me anything to-day, Melchior. I have Central America and Louis the Fifteenth before me. And then the sixty verses of Homer, the seven equations and the Latin composition.–I would fail in all of them again to-morrow. To drudge successfully I must be as stupid as an ox.
Melchior
Come with me to my room. In three-quarters of an hour I will have the Homer, the equations and two compositions. I will put one or two harmless errors in yours, and the thing is done. Mamma will make lemonade for us again, and we can chat comfortably about propagation.
Moritz
I can't–I can't chat comfortably about propagation! If you want to do me a favor, give me your information in writing. Write me out what you know. Write it as briefly and clearly as possible, and put it between my books to-morrow during recess. I will carry it home without knowing that I have it. I will find it unexpectedly. I cannot but help going over it with tired eyes–in case it is hard to explain, you can use a marginal diagram or so.
Melchior
You are like a girl.–Nevertheless, as you wish. It will be a very interesting task for me.–One question, Moritz?
Moritz
Hm?
Melchior
Did you ever see a girl?
Moritz
Yes!
Melchior
All of her?
Moritz
Certainly!
Melchior
So have I!–Then we won't need any illustrations.
Moritz
During the Schützenfest in Leilich's anatomical museum! If it had leaked out I should have been hunted out of school.–Beautiful as the light of day, and–oh, so true to nature!
Melchior
I was at Frankfurt with Mamma last summer–Are you going already, Moritz?
Moritz
I must work.–Good-night.
Melchior
'Till we meet again.
SCENE THIRD
Thea, Wendla and Martha come along the street arm in arm
Martha
How the water gets into one's shoes!
Wendla
How the wind blows against one's cheeks!
Thea
How one's heart thumps!
Wendla
Let's go out there to the bridge. Ilse says the stream is full of bushes and trees. The boys have built a raft. Melchi Gabor was almost drowned yesterday.
Thea
Oh, he can swim!
Martha
I should think so, child!
Wendla
If he hadn't been able to swim he would have been drowned!
Thea
Your hair is coming down, Martha, your hair is coming down.
Martha
Pooh!–Let it come down! It bothers me day and night. I may not wear short hair like you; I may not wear my hair down my back like Wendla; I may not wear bangs, and I must always do my hair up at home–all on account of my aunt!
Wendla
I'll bring the scissors with me to-morrow to devotions. While you are saying, “Blessed are they who do not stray,” I will clip it off.
Martha
For heaven's sake, Wendla! Papa would beat me black and blue, and Mamma would lock me up in the coal hole for three nights.
Wendla
What does he beat you with, Martha?
Martha
It often seems to me as if they would miss something if they didn't have an ill-conditioned brat like me.
Thea
Why, girl!
Martha
Are you ever allowed to put a blue ribbon through the top of your chemise?
Thea
A pink ribbon! Mamma thinks a pink ribbon goes well with my big dark eyes.
Martha
Blue suits me to a T!–Mamma pulled me out of bed by the hair. I fell with my hands out so on the floor.–Mamma prayed night after night with us–
Wendla
In your place I should have run away long ago.
Martha
There you have it! The reason I am going away!–There you have it!–They will soon see–oh, they will soon see! At least I shall never be able to reproach my mother–
Thea
H'm, h'm.–
Martha
Can you imagine, Thea, what Mamma meant by it?
Thea
I can't–can you, Wendla?
Wendla
I should simply have asked her.
Martha
I lay on the floor and shrieked and howled. Then Papa came in. Rip–he tore off my chemise. Out of the door I went. There you have it!–I only wanted to get out in the street that way–
Wendla
But that is not so, Martha.
Martha
I froze. I was locked up. I had to sleep all night in a sack.
Thea
Never in my life could I sleep in a sack!
Wendla
I only wish I could sleep once for you in your sack.
Martha
If only one weren't beaten!
Thea
But one would suffocate in it!
Martha
Your head is left outside. It's tied under your chin.
Thea
And then they beat you?
Martha
No. Only when there is special occasion.
Wendla
What do they beat you with, Martha?
Martha
Oh, with anything that is handy.–Does your mother think it's naughty to eat a piece of bread in bed?
Wendla
No! no!
Martha
I believe they enjoy it–even if they don't say so. If I ever have children I will let them grow up like the weeds in our flower garden. Nobody worries about them and they grow so high and thick–while the roses in the beds grow poorer and poorer every summer.
Thea
If I have children I shall dress them all in pink. Pink hats, pink dresses, pink shoes. Only the stockings–the stockings shall be black as night! When I go for a walk they shall march in front of me.–And you, Wendla?
Wendla
How do you know that you will have any?
Thea
Why shouldn't we have any?
Martha
Well, Aunt Euphemia hasn't any.
Thea
You goose, that's because she isn't married.
Wendla
Aunt Bauer was married three times and she didn't have a single one.
Martha
If you have any, Wendla, which would you rather have, boys or girls?
Wendla
Boys! boys!
Thea
I, too, boys!
Martha
So would I. Better twenty boys than three girls.
Thea
Girls are tiresome.
Martha
If I weren't a girl already I certainly wouldn't want to be one.
Wendla
That's a matter of taste, I believe, Martha. I rejoice every day that I am a girl. Believe me, I wouldn't change places with a king's son.–That's the reason why I only want boys!
Thea
But that's crazy, pure craziness, Wendla!
Wendla
But it must be a thousand times more exciting to be loved by a man than by a girl!
Thea
But you don't want to assert that Forest Inspector Pfälle loves Melitta more than she does him.
Wendla
That I do, Thea. Pfälle is proud. Pfälle is proud because he is a forest inspector—for Pfälle has nothing.–Melitta is happy because she gets ten thousand times more than she is.
Martha
Aren't you proud of yourself, Wendla?
Wendla
That would be silly.
Martha
In your place I should be proud of my appearance.
Thea
Only look how she steps out–how free her glance is—how she holds herself, Martha. Isn't that pride?
Wendla
Why not? I am so happy to be a girl; if I weren't a girl I should break down the next time–
(Melchior passes and greets them.)
Thea
He has a wonderful head.
Martha
He makes me think of the young Alexander going to school to Aristotle.
Thea
Oh dear, Greek history!–I only know how Socrates lay in his barrel when Alexander sold him the ass' shadow.
Wendla
He stands third in his class.
Thea
Professor Knochenbruch says he can be first if he wants.
Martha
He has a beautiful brow, but his friend has a soulful look.
Thea
Moritz Stiefel?–He's a stupid!
Martha
I've always gotten along well with him.
Thea
He disgraces anybody who is with him. At Rilow's party he offered me some bon-bons. Only think, Wendla, they were soft and warm. Isn't that–? He said he had kept them too long in his trouser's pocket.
Wendla
Only think, Melchi Gabor told me once that he didn't believe anything–not in God, not in a hereafter–in anything more in this world.