* A Project Gutenberg Canada Ebook * This ebook is made available at no cost and with very few restrictions. These restrictions apply only if (1) you make a change in the ebook (other than alteration for different display devices), or (2) you are making commercial use of the ebook. If either of these conditions applies, please check gutenberg.ca/links/licence.html before proceeding. This work is in the Canadian public domain, but may be under copyright in some countries. If you live outside Canada, check your country's copyright laws. IF THE BOOK IS UNDER COPYRIGHT IN YOUR COUNTRY, DO NOT DOWNLOAD OR REDISTRIBUTE THIS FILE. Title: Reunion In Vienna. A Play in Three Acts. Author: Sherwood, Robert Emmet (1896-1955) Date of first publication: 1932 Edition used as base for this ebook: New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1932 (first edition) Date first posted: 26 March 2010 Date last updated: 26 March 2010 Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #509 This ebook was produced by: Iona Vaughan, Barbara Watson, Mark Akrigg & the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net REUNION IN VIENNA BY ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD * * * * * REUNION IN VIENNA THIS IS NEW YORK THE VIRTUOUS KNIGHT WATERLOO BRIDGE THE QUEEN'S HUSBAND THE ROAD TO ROME * * * * * CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS REUNION IN VIENNA A PLAY IN THREE ACTS BY ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD "Wonder," says he, "is the basis of Worship: the reign of wonder is perennial, indestructible in Man; only at certain stages (as the present), it is, for some short season, a reign _in partibus infidelium_." That progress of Science, which is to destroy Wonder, and in its stead substitute Mensuration and Numeration, finds small favor with Teufelsdröckh, much as he otherwise venerates these two latter processes. --Sartor Resartus. NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1932 Copyright, 1932, by ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD * * * * * DRAMATIC VERSION COPYRIGHT, 1931, BY ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD * * * * * Printed in the United States of America _All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission of the Author._ * * * * * _All performing rights to this play are strictly reserved. Requests for information of any kind concerning these rights should be addressed to Harold Freedman, care of Brandt & Brandt, 101 Park Ave., New York City._ TO MY WIFE PREFACE This play is another demonstration of the escape mechanism in operation. There is no form of mechanism more popular or in more general use in this obstreperously technological period--which is a sufficient indication of the spirit of moral defeatism that now prevails. It is a spirit, or want of spirit, that can truthfully be said to be new in the world--for the reason that in no previous historic emergency has the common man enjoyed the dubious advantages of consciousness. However unwilling, he is now able to realize that his generation has the ill-luck to occupy the limbo-like interlude between one age and another. Looking about him, he sees a shell-torn No Man's Land, filled with barbed-wire entanglements and stench and uncertainty. If it is not actual chaos, it is a convincing counterfeit thereof. Before him is black doubt, punctured by brief flashes of ominous light, whose revelations are not comforting. Behind him is nothing but the ghastly wreckage of burned bridges. In his desperation, which he assures himself is essentially comic, he casts about for weapons of defense. The old minds offer him Superstition, but it is a stringless bow, impotent in its obsolescence. The new minds offer him Rationalism, but it is a boomerang. He must devise pitiful defenses of his own, like a soldier who spreads a sheet of wrapping paper over his bivouac to keep out the airplane bombs. In Europe, this manifests itself in the heroic but anachronistic attempt to recreate the illusions of nationalism: people drugging themselves with the comforting hope that to-morrow will be a repetition of yesterday, that the Cæsars and the Tudors will return. In America, which has had no Cæsars or Tudors, nor even any Hohenzollerns or Habsburgs, the favorite weapon of defense against unlovely reality is a kind of half-hearted cynicism that is increasingly tremulous, increasingly shrill. Observe it in operation: "Fear not, for God will provide." "Oh, yeah?" "The economic structure is fundamentally sound." "Oh, yeah?" "Two plus two equals four." "Oh, yeah?" As an alternative to cynicism is the sentimentalism which derives exquisite anguish from an acknowledgment of futility. Consider the "Hollow Men" in T. S. Eliot's terrible verses: "shape without form, shade without colour, paralyzed force, gesture without motion." Eliot is among the few authorized spokesmen of his time. "_This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper._" "Oh, yeah?" Here is another spokesman, a tabloid newspaper, _The New York Daily News_, which gives true statement of a present problem: "Which is better--to live in fear of kidnapers, stick-ups and blackmailers whom the law can't touch, or to trade our remaining liberties of speech and action for the security which a strong ruler (Mussolini or Stalin) can guarantee? We feel sure we can answer that question for any American mother, at least. She would be glad to trade her remaining American liberties for the knowledge that she could put her baby in its crib to-night and find it there safe to-morrow morning." Democracy--liberty, equality, fraternity, and the pursuit of happiness! Peace and prosperity! Emancipation by enlightenment! All the distillations of man's maturing intelligence have gone sour. The worst of it is that man had been so full of hope. He had complete confidence in the age of reason, the age of the neutralization of nature, for it was his own idea. It differed from all previous ages in this great respect: it was not caused by the movements of glaciers, the upheaval or submersion of continents, the imposition of prolonged droughts: it was the product of man's restless thought and tireless industry, planned and developed by him not in collaboration with nature but in implacable opposition to it. The reasonings of such as Roger Bacon, Copernicus, Galileo and Newton started the assault upon ignorance, and it has been carried on by countless thinkers and talkers from Voltaire and Rousseau to Shaw and Wells. This is the career of the age of reason: The eighteenth century knew the excitements of conception, culminating in the supreme orgasm of the French Revolution. The nineteenth century was the period of gestation, marred by occasional symptoms of nausea and hysteria and a few dark forebodings, but generally orderly and complacent. For the twentieth century have remained the excruciating labor pains and the discovery that the child is a monster; and as modern man looks upon it, and recalls the assurances of the omniscient obstetricians, he is sore distressed. He wishes that with his eyes he could see not, that with his ears he could not hear. But his senses are remarkably acute. After Darwin, it all seemed so easy. Huxley preached the gospel, Pasteur peered through his microscope and detected the destroyers, Edison and Freud began to see the light. Science conferred its blessings at a bewilderingly extravagant rate. It was then that Victor Hugo expressed man's ascendant optimism: "Give time for the realization of the acme of social salvation,-- gratuitous and compulsory education. How long will it take? A quarter of a century; and then imagine the incalculable sum of intellectual development. . . . Look! raise your eyes! the supreme epic is accomplished. The legions of light drive backward the hordes of flame." Twenty-five years! But exactly twice that number of years after Hugo's prophecy the legions of light converged upon Flanders, and the process of dissolution--political, economic and ethical--had begun. Twelve million soldiers died for democracy, but now _The Daily News_ announces that mothers would rather have their babies safe. But it is doubtful that the mothers or their sons will derive much joy from consideration of the proffered panaceas. Man is a sick animal, and the chief symptom of his malady is embittered distrust of all the physicians who would attempt to heal him. The discredited vicars of God believe they can be helpful. They say, "Go back to the faith of your fathers!" They might as well say, "Crawl back into the wombs of your mothers." The discredited ideologs of the laboratory believe that they can be helpful. They say, "Be aware! Be confident! Go forward with firm tread through the entanglements (which are purely psychological), inspired by the assurances of our continued research. If you feel that you suffer from a plethora of science, then the only cure for it is more science." They even go so far as to suggest that the physicists might mark time for a while, to allow the biologists, psychologists and sociologists to catch up. The human organism must be reconstructed so that it will be as foolproof as the adding machine. Man is, for the moment, scornful of the formulæ of the scientists, for he believes that it was they who got him into this mess. To hell with them, and their infallible laws, their experiments noble in motive and disastrous in result, their antiseptic Utopia, their vitamines and their lethal gases, their cosmic rays and their neuroses, all tidily encased in cellophane. To hell with them, says man, but with no relish, for he has been deprived even of faith in the potency of damnation. In _The Modern Temper_, Joseph Wood Krutch has spoken as eloquently for his generation as Hugo did for his. He has written: "We went to science in search of light, not merely upon the nature of matter, but upon the nature of man as well, and though that which we have received may be light of a sort, it is not adapted to our eyes and is not anything by which we can see." Or perhaps it is a light which enables us to see all too clearly the destination of civilization as directed by science. Perhaps at the end of the long, straight road we see the ultimate ant-hill, the triumph of collectivism, with the law of averages strictly, equably enforced. It may well mean fulfillment of the dreams of all the philosophers: the Perfect State. It is a prospect of unrelieved dreariness. "I could not imagine writing a paragraph about a reformed world," Joseph Hergesheimer has confessed, and he might have added that before man could even live in such a world, he would have to be deprived of the very power to imagine, a sort of intellectual castration resulting in loss of the one attribute which has made survival worth all the required effort and pain. It is this prospect which provokes the wailing that sounds throughout all the literature of this period, and it should provide great amusement for our descendants--provided they _are_ our descendants, rather than laboratory products, and also provided our literature lives that long, which is doubtful. It would seem that the only subjects now available for man's contemplation are his disillusionment with the exposed past and his disinclination to accept the stultifying circumstances of the revealed future. The one substitute for the vanished solace of religion, for the frustrated idealism of democracy, and for the demolished security of capitalism, is abject submission of body and mind to the dictatorship of pure theory. There can be no possibility of choice in the matter. Science permits no compromise: a formula is either correct or it is incorrect, and only one scientific formula for the organization of life on earth has as yet been conceived, and it is Marxism. The attempt to mitigate this formula, to soften its impact, to introduce into it loop-holes for the admission of some of the more desirable of the old ideas (such as poetry, the luxury of leisure, etc.) is as absurd as the pathetic attempts of the theologians to adapt their dogmas to the exigencies of modernism. When man accepts the principles of collectivism, he accepts a clearly stated, clearly defined trend in evolution, the theoretic outcome of which is inescapable. He is enlisting in the great army of uniformity, renouncing forever his right to be out of step as he marches with all the others into that ideal state in which there is no flaw in the gigantic rhythm of technology, no stalk of wheat too few or too many, no destructive passion, no waste, no fear, no provocation to revolt--the ultimate ant-hill. Man is afraid of communism not because he thinks it will be a failure but because he suspects it will be too complete a success. So man is giving loud expression to his reluctance to confront the seemingly inevitable. He is desperately cherishing the only remaining manifestation of the individualism which first distinguished him in the animal kingdom: it is the anarchistic impulse, rigorously inhibited but still alive--the impulse to be drunk and disorderly, to smash laws and ikons, to draw a mustache and beard on the Mona Lisa, to be a hurler of bombs and monkey wrenches--the impulse to be an artist and a damned fool. It was this impulse which animated Galileo in the face of Romanism and Lenin in the face of Tsarism, but the disciples of both of them are determined to exterminate it and can undoubtedly do so, with the aid of the disciples of Freud. There is no reason why the successful neutralization of nature cannot be extended to include human nature. Man has been clinging to the hope that has been his since he was delivered from feudalism--hope that he may live a life which is, in the words of Whitman, "copious, vehement, spiritual, bold." He is seeing that hope destroyed by instruments of his own devising, and the reverberations of his protest are shaking his earth. Perhaps this protest is only the last gasp of primitivism. Perhaps man feels that the traditions of his race demand of him a show of spirit before he submerges himself in the mass and that, when the little show is over, he will be glad enough to fall meekly into line. And then again--perhaps he knows that he is doomed anyway, that he is riding to oblivion in a vehicle of antiquated design. For there is still space, and the infinite mysteries thereof. The most advanced of all the scientists are now considering it, gravely, and they are not optimistic as to the results of their ruminations. One of them, Sir James Jeans, has said: "Science knows of no change except the change of growing older, and of no progress except progress to the grave. So far as our present knowledge goes, we are compelled to believe that the whole material universe is an example, on the grand scale, of this. It appears to be passing away like a tale that is told, dissolving into nothingness like a vision. The human race, whose intelligence dates back only a single tick of the astronomical clock, could hardly hope to understand so soon what it all means." So there is hope, after all. Man may not have time to complete the process of his own undoing before the unknown forces have combined to burst the bubble of his universe. . . . All of which is used as preface to _Reunion in Vienna_ because it provides confession of the apprehensions from which, with the help of God and a few Lunts, I have been attempting in this play to escape. It is relieving, if not morally profitable, for an American writer to contemplate people who can recreate the semblance of gaiety in the face of lamentably inappropriate circumstances. R. E. S. REUNION IN VIENNA Presented by the Theatre Guild at the Martin Beck Theatre, New York City, November 16, 1932, with the following cast: KATHIE Mary Gildea ERNEST Stanley Wood ELENA Lynn Fontanne DR. ANTON KRUG Minor Watson ILSE Phyllis Connard EMIL Lloyd Nolan OLD KRUG Henry Travers FRAU LUCHER Helen Westley COUNTESS VON STAINZ Virginia Chauvenet COUNT VON STAINZ Edward Fielding POFFY Edouardo Ciannelli BREDZI Bela Loblov JANSEI Morris Nussbaum STRUP Otis Sheridan TORLINI Bjorn Koefoed POLICEMAN Murray Stevens CHEF Leonard Loan RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN Alfred Lunt GISELLA Cynthia Townsend GENERAL HOETZLER Frank Kingdon TALISZ Owen Meech SOPHIA Justina Wayne KOEPPKE William R. Randall VALET Joseph Allenton BELLBOY Noel Taylor BUS-BOYS { Ben Kranz { Hendrik Booraem WAITERS { Charles E. Douglass { Samuel Rosen * * * * * Directed by Worthington Miner Settings by Aline Bernstein REUNION IN VIENNA CAST KATHIE ERNEST ELENA DOCTOR ANTON KRUG OLD KRUG ILSE EMIL FRAU LUCHER COUNT VON STAINZ COUNTESS VON STAINZ POFFY A PORTER ANOTHER PORTER STRUP BREDZI TWO WAITERS TWO BUS-BOYS A BELL-BOY TORLINI A POLICEMAN CHEF RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN GISELLA VON KRETT GENERAL HOETZLER SOPHIA KOEPPKE TALISZ A VALET JANSEI SCENES ACT I.--_The drawing-room in the house of Doctor Anton Krug, in Vienna. Late afternoon._ ACT II.--_The ante-room of the Imperial Suite, Hotel Lucher, in Vienna. Early evening._ ACT III.--_Same as Act I. Late evening._ (The curtain is lowered during Act III to indicate the passage of several hours.) * * * * * _Time:_ August 18th, 1930. REUNION IN VIENNA ACT I _The scene is the living room in the home of_ PROFESSOR DOCTOR ANTON KRUG _in Vienna. It is late in the afternoon of August 18th, 1930, a date which marks the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of the late Emperor Franz Joseph I._ _The room is ultra-modernistic in the style of its decorations and furnishings, but there is conveyed through the colors of the curtains and upholstery a suggestion of old-fashioned warmth._ _At the right, down-stage, is a double door, leading to a hall and the staircase. In the up-stage right angle of the scene is a long window, looking out upon a sea of horse-chestnut trees. At the back of the room, in the centre, a few steps lead up to a little landing; on this open the door leading to_ FRAU KRUG'S _boudoir and, to the left of it, the entrance to the hall which leads to the bedrooms_. _Up-stage left is the door leading to_ DR. KRUG'S _offices, and, down-stage left, a fire-place_. _Before the fire-place is a seat. Slightly to the left of stage-centre is a large couch, the back of which forms a bookcase. Toward the right is a thickly upholstered easy-chair, and two or three chairs that are not so easy. There is a window seat, and between it and the landing at the back is an American radio cabinet._ _As the curtain rises, the stage is empty, but from the radio come the sounds of a jazz tune._ _After a moment, the door at the right opens and_ KATHIE _comes in. She is a stout, competent, middle-aged servant. Behind her comes_ ERNEST, _a venerable, jovial laundryman, bearing a brimming hamper of clean linen_. KATHIE Put it down there. (_She indicates the couch, then goes up to the radio._) ERNEST Yes, my dear. (_He puts the laundry basket by the sofa._) KATHIE (_muttering as she turns off the radio_) He always goes out and leaves it on when he knows it annoys the Herr Doctor. (_She goes up the steps and knocks on the door of_ FRAU KRUG'S _room_.) Frau Krug. ELENA (_from offstage_) Yes? KATHIE The laundry's here. (_She comes down and addresses ERNEST in a peremptory tone._) She wants to count it herself--and heaven help you if there's anything missing. ERNEST Not so much as a doily, upon my word. (ELENA _comes out of her room, and walks quickly down to the couch. She is thirty-two years old, slim, serene, self-possessed and almost imperceptibly malicious. Unquestionably above reproach as the envied wife of the distinguished_ DR. KRUG, ELENA _remains a lively subject for speculative discussion. There is no doubt that she is a lady of fashion--was born so, indeed--though she is now wearing a severely simple apron smock and appearing as a model of brisk, house-wifely competence. She smiles amiably at_ ERNEST.) ELENA Good afternoon, Ernest. ERNEST (_bowing_) Frau Krug! Good afternoon. Warming up a bit, isn't it? ELENA Yes--it's lovely. . . . All right, Kathie. I have the list. (KATHIE _starts taking the folded pairs of drawers from the basket, pair by pair, and putting them on the couch_. ELENA _holds a laundry book and pencil with which she confirms the numbers of items announced by_ KATHIE.) KATHIE Seven pairs of drawers. ELENA Seven. That's right. . . . Here--let me see how they've been done. (KATHIE _hands her a pair, which_ ELENA _unfolds and inspects_.) ERNEST Beautifully laundered, Frau Krug, with creamy softness to caress your skin. ELENA Not my skin--my husband's. ERNEST (_bowing_) Ten thousand pardons. ELENA How about the shirts? KATHIE (_piling them up_) One--two--three--four--five--six--seven. (DR. ANTON KRUG _has come in from the left. He is a tall, powerful, handsome man of forty-five, bespectacled, correctly dressed in an essentially Teutonic morning coat with striped trousers. His hands are those of a peasant rather than of a deft surgeon, and he is conscious of them. He speaks quietly, but in his deep voice is the resonance of assurance. He knows whereof he speaks_.) ANTON Elena . . . What are you doing? (_He comes close to_ ELENA.) ELENA Now don't bother me, Anton. How many undershirts? KATHIE Two--four--six--seven. ELENA Seven. That's right. (_To_ ANTON) I'm counting the laundry. (KATHIE _begins to count out socks_.) KATHIE One pair, two--three--four--(_She goes on._) ANTON (_smiling_) Forgive me, Elena--but will this great task keep you occupied for very long? ELENA No. Why? ANTON There are a couple of students of mine out there. KATHIE (_mumbling_) Eleven pairs socks. ANTON Would you mind talking to them while they're waiting? I want them to have a good look at you. ELENA No, dear, by all means, send them in. Did you say eleven? KATHIE Yes, ma'am. Five woollen, six silk. ELENA That's right. I'd better not let them see me with all this wash. ANTON (_smiling_) No, it might disillusion them. They imagine you as glamorous, regal. ELENA (_interested_) Ah! _Do_ they? ANTON Where they got such ideas, I don't know. ELENA Perhaps they're very young? (KATHIE _is putting the laundry back into the basket_.) ANTON They are--young, and painfully earnest. They're badly in need of a few lessons in the cultivation of grace. ELENA (_rising_) This apron isn't very glamorous, either. (_Old_ KRUG _ambles in from the right, carrying the evening paper. He is_ ANTON's _father, a gentle old man, an ex-cobbler, who doesn't entirely like the way things have been going since Austria was made safe for democracy_.) ANTON No, I'm reasonably sure you can do better than that. KRUG Better than what? ELENA If you can keep them waiting a little while I _shall_ do better. (_She goes up to the steps at the back._) ANTON Thanks, Elena. I'll deposit them in here. (_He goes out at the left._) KRUG Deposit who? What's happening? ELENA (_at the door to her room_) Bring the laundry in here. (_She goes out, leaving the door open._) ERNEST Gladly, Frau Krug. (_He lifts the basket._ KATHIE _picks up the folded drawers and shirts from the couch and goes into the room_. ERNEST _is following her, but old_ KRUG _intercepts him_.) KRUG Oh, Ernest! ERNEST (_turning and bowing_) Herr Krug! KRUG (_excitedly_) Have you heard any more about to-night? ERNEST (_importantly_) I have! I was just over at Lucher's Hotel, and they're in a great state about it. They expect upwards of a hundred people! KRUG (_impressed_) A hundred! The police aren't going to stop it, are they? ERNEST (_with assurance_) Noooo! Old Frau Lucher has bribed the authorities. (KATHIE _appears in the bedroom door_.) KATHIE (_from the landing_) She told you to come in here! ERNEST Coming! (_He winks at_ KRUG, _and goes out with his basket_. KRUG _goes over to the radio, twists the dials, then turns it on. A speech in Russian is coming through. He listens attentively._ ANTON _comes in from the left, followed by the students,_ EMIL LOIBNER _and_ ILSE HINRICH. EMIL _is dark, bespectacled, poorly, carelessly dressed_. ILSE _might be blondly beautiful if she cared to be. She is eager and ambitious, but a trifle bewildered_.) ANTON Right in here, please. ILSE I hope we're not disturbing Frau Krug. ANTON No, no! She's eager to meet you. EMIL She's very kind. ANTON (_to old_ KRUG) Father! Turn that off! KRUG But it's that trial in Moscow. ANTON Yes, and you can't understand a word of it. Turn it off! KRUG (_with dejected resignation_) Oh, very well. (_He does so._) ANTON This is my father. (ILSE _and_ EMIL _bow and murmur:_ "_Herr Krug--How do you do?_") Two of my students--Ilse Hinrich and Emil Loibner. (KRUG _mumbles a churlish greeting and ambles up to the window seat whereon he sits to read his paper_.) My wife will be here in a minute. I have one more patient to see before we can begin our work. A dreadful woman! She came all the way from--where is it?--Pennsylvania, to learn about the more elementary facts of life. She's married too. (_He laughs._) What sort of husbands do you suppose they have in Pennsylvania that their wives must come all the way to Vienna to learn the facts? (EMIL _and_ ILSE _laugh obediently at the Professor's little joke_.) Now when my wife comes in I want you both to be very charming--rather than scientific. Do you understand that? EMIL You don't need to tell us that, Herr Professor. ANTON Of course not. You're already a good psychiatrist. And you too, Ilse. ILSE Oh, I don't know anything yet. ANTON You stick at it for two or three years and you'll know everything--as Emil does. (_He slaps_ EMIL'S _shoulder and goes out at the left. Ill at ease_, ILSE _sits down on the edge of the couch_. EMIL _takes up a defensive position before the fire-place_.) ILSE What shall we say to her? EMIL Well, I imagine we should flatter her. That's the right thing to do. ILSE I know--but about what? EMIL You ought to know. You're a woman. KRUG (_unexpectedly_) Tell her you admire this room. ILSE Oh! (_They are both startled, having forgotten_ KRUG.) KRUG She likes to be praised about all this--decoration. (_With a none too approving sweep of the hand._) EMIL Is it--is the decoration her work? KRUG Every bit of it. She stood over the carpenters and painters and told them what to do. ILSE It's tre_men_dously effective! KRUG Maybe. (_He rises and crosses toward_ ILSE.) But as for me--it's--I don't know--I don't _like_ it! It just isn't natural. . . . Do you know what she said when she was having it done? She said: "We won't have one thing in this house to look as if there ever was a past. We must believe we know nothing of what went on in the world before 1920. We are beginning new," she said. Crazy notions! (_He chuckles._) But all the same, she's smart. She can tell you young people some things that are good for you to know. And what's more, she _will_ tell you if you ask her the right . . . (ERNEST _comes out of_ ELENA'S _room, carrying his empty basket_.) ERNEST Well, the laundry added up perfectly. KRUG } } Good! I need a clean shirt. } } (_Together_) ILSE (_in an undertone to_ EMIL) } } I still don't know what to say} to her. } EMIL Sh! ERNEST And if I hear any more about that certain affair I'll let you know. KRUG Oh, please do, Ernest, because if there is a rumpus, they won't let the papers print anything about it. Do you think there will be a rumpus? ERNEST (_knowingly_) Unless I miss my guess, there'll be a good one. . . . KRUG Oh, I hope so. ERNEST Believe me, they're eager to have Frau Krug there. (KATHIE _comes out of_ ELENA'S _room_.) KRUG Oh, I can believe that. KATHIE Come on, now--we're through with you. (_She crosses to the right._) ERNEST Yes, my dear. ILSE (_to_ EMIL) What was that about Frau Krug? (EMIL _cautions her to silence_.) KRUG Good afternoon, Ernest. ERNEST Good afternoon, Herr Krug. (_He goes out at the right, followed by_ KATHIE.) KRUG Herr Krug! (_He chuckles as he turns back to the students._) He and I used to go to school together, and now he calls me "Herr" Krug. That's because I'm the father of my son. As if I deserved the credit. (_He comes close to_ ILSE.) Do you want to know something? ILSE About Frau Krug? KRUG (_paying no attention to her question_) I never saw what was in my boy. Neither did his mother. We wanted him to follow my trade, shoe-making. But he had big ideas. He had to be a surgeon _and_ a revolutionist. Even when he was wearing short pants he was telling us that science was going to cure every one of everything. He was the wildest talker. EMIL Because he knew the truth. KRUG Well--he'd have been better off if he'd kept his mouth closed. They didn't like to be talked about the way he talked. They punished him. . . . ILSE Who were they? EMIL The Habsburgs! ILSE Oh! KRUG Yes--that's who it was. They were smart, too. Whenever things became too hot for 'em here at home they'd start another war, and send all the worst of the trouble makers into the front line. They did that with him. They put him to work patching up all the soldiers they'd broken there in Gorizia--patching 'em up so that they could send 'em out to be broken again. But do you know what he said about it? He said it was murder they were doing--that the enemy were our comrades. Comrades! The Italians! And on top of all that, every soldier that was sent to him was marked unfit for further military service. He told 'em all to go home. But _they_ soon put a stop to that. They took away his commission from him, and made him a laborer in their stone quarries; and that's why he could never be a surgeon again. They crushed his hands with their stones! ILSE How _hor_rible! EMIL (_fervently_) That's one of the crimes that we must never forget! KRUG Oh, it didn't upset him. He said, "If I can't use my hands to chop people to pieces, I can still use _this_." (_He taps his head._) And he did. And now they don't put him in prison for what he says. They _pay_ him! Why--they sent for my boy all the way from America, and he went across the ocean to tell those Americans how to live. _They_ didn't know. And when he came back he brought me a present--that wireless machine, there. Did you ever see as fine a one as that? (_He gazes lovingly at the radio._) It's mine--but they won't let me play it. (ELENA _comes in, now wearing a graceful tea-gown_.) ILSE Oh--that's too bad! (EMIL _signals to_ ILSE _to behold_ FRAU KRUG.) EMIL (_bowing_) Frau Krug! ELENA (_shaking hands with_ ILSE, _who rises_) How do you do? ILSE (_timorously_) How do you do, Frau Krug? ELENA Father--aren't you going to introduce us? KRUG I don't know their names. They're students. (_He goes over to the right and sits down with his pipe and his newspaper._) ELENA (_to_ EMIL) I'm afraid I've kept you waiting. EMIL (_stiffly_) Oh, no. We are the intruders. The Herr Professor's with a patient. KRUG It's a lady who came all the way from Pennsylvania with complaints. EMIL If I may say so, Frau Krug . . . I . . . well--I . . . (_There is an awkward pause._) ELENA Why, my dear boy--of course you may say anything. EMIL Well, I . . . it was nothing. . . . ELENA Oh, come--it must have been something. You're embarrassed. EMIL (_with a sheepish laugh_) I'm afraid so. KRUG He was going to say that he doesn't believe _you_ have any complaints, like that woman out there. . . . EMIL I was going to say nothing of the kind! It was something entirely different--a--a compliment---- ELENA Oh--but that would have been the highest compliment of all! ILSE (_nervously_) I think, Frau Krug--I think that Emil meant to say that we both admire the imaginativeness of this room. ELENA Oh! I should have liked that too. . . . Now--do sit down and tell me how you are getting on with your studies. (_They all sit._) ILSE I'm afraid I don't know very much yet. You see I'm new. Emil is the Professor's favorite. ELENA Really! What does the Professor teach you? ILSE Everything! ELENA Oh? ILSE I mean, everything that's worth knowing. ELENA For example? ILSE (_lamely_) Well--he makes us understand that if you'll only _think_ right, you'll _live_ right. I mean--if you can make what's in your subconscious come to the surface--then you'll know what it is--and you'll know what to do about it. EMIL (_unable longer to curb his eloquence_) No, no! It's infinitely more than that. He's gone far beyond psychoanalysis. He teaches us the gospel of the better life--the life that is seen through the eyes of the biologist's microscope and in the changing colors of the chemist's test tube. He teaches us that the forward progress of man must be regulated by the statistician's inexorable curve, and not by the encyclicals of priests or the ukases of kings. He teaches us to banish from the world all false fear of God--to know Him, and recognize Him only as a measurable force in cosmic technology. He teaches us to look into ourselves--our bodies, our minds--and not to the vague hills of mysticism, for the knowledge that will set us free. ELENA Well--that _does_ cover about everything, doesn't it? (_She treats_ EMIL _to a sympathetic smile_.) And when you have absorbed all the knowledge there is, what will you do with it? EMIL I shall try to carry it to others--to share it with all mankind. ELENA I see. You're to be another Paul. EMIL Another Paul? ELENA Yes--Paul! The Apostle! EMIL Oh--yes. ELENA (_to_ ILSE) And how about you? ILSE I suppose there'll be plenty of work for all of us. EMIL (_rising_) You see, Madam--the world is very young. ELENA Very _young_? EMIL Why--hardly more than ten years ago we were living under conditions of mediævalism. ELENA Ten years! EMIL When I look at the decaying relics of the old order, the gaunt, empty palace of the Habsburgs, and the silly monuments they erected to their own glory--I bless the war and the revolution that delivered us from the tyranny of ignorance. ELENA And what do you say when you look at me? ILSE At _you_, Frau Krug? What possible connection has that . . . ELENA I'm one of the relics of the middle ages, of ten years ago. (ANTON _comes in from the left_.) EMIL You are the wife of the most enlightened scientist in Austria. ANTON Emil! I overheard that last remark. EMIL Yes, sir. ANTON I'm afraid you must have misunderstood me. I wanted you to flatter her, not me. (_He goes to the bookcase at the back._) ELENA They've been charming, both of them. ANTON (_casually looking for a book_) I'm glad to hear it. . . . The one thing these students have difficulty in developing is the correct bedside manner. . . . Is that copy of _Sons and Lovers_ here? ELENA I think it's there--somewhere. ANTON I want to give it to that Pennsylvania woman. It might help her. . . . Ah--here it is. ELENA What's the trouble with her? ANTON The usual one--another frustration! For twenty years she's been measuring her poor husband in terms of her first love--the one that got away. . . . ELENA And what are you prescribing, beside that book? ANTON She must find her first lover, and have a good look at him as he is now. He's a manufacturer of dental supplies. I think she'll be cured. . . . (_He smiles at_ ELENA _and goes out at the left_.) ELENA I hope he does help her. It must be awful to be always unsatisfied, and puzzled. . . . EMIL (_with complete conviction_) He'll cure her--if she has the capacity to understand. ELENA You worship him, don't you? EMIL All youth must worship him. He is leading us from the darkness--into the light. ELENA Do you hear that, father? Your son is a god. KRUG Yes--that's what they say. ILSE Frau Krug . . . ELENA Yes, dear. ILSE (_hesitantly_) There's a question I'd like to ask. You see--the point is that we, Emil and I--we know only the present, the age of reason since the Revolution. You know something of the past. EMIL (_reproving her quietly_) Ilse . . . ELENA That's quite all right. Why shouldn't I know the past? I'm old enough to be your mother. (_They both protest._) Well, practically. . . . Now, come--what was the question that you want to ask? KRUG She wants you to tell her what you know of the Habsburgs. EMIL Frau Krug--I swear that we pay no attention to the scandalous gossip that evil, malicious bourgeois . . . ELENA (_cutting in_) Oh, but you should. You want to be psychoanalysts, don't you? ILSE Well . . . EMIL Of course, we do! ELENA Then there's every reason for you to do research work. EMIL Research work is to be done in the laboratory--not in the drawing-room. ELENA My dear boy--when you have been fully inoculated with the germ of scientific culture you will realize that all the world is your laboratory--and all the men and women in it merely guinea-pigs. I'm one of them--and I'm here to be explored. As a matter of fact, I'm a peculiarly interesting specimen--ask my husband if I'm not. He'll tell you that most of his vast knowledge of human frailty comes from observation of me. (_To_ ILSE.) Now, please! Just what did you want to know? ILSE It would be helpful to know how you see all the changes--whether you think we are advanced, for all our knowledge, or . . . ELENA Aren't you content to take my husband's word for it that the world has improved? EMIL I ask for no other assurance. I need none. ELENA (_to_ EMIL) I know. But--(_to_ ILSE)--I gather that you're not so sure. ILSE (_tremulous_) The trouble is--I'm not sure of my_self_. ELENA Oh? ILSE I--I had an experience. ELENA Ah! I see! (_She draws her chair closer to_ ILSE. KRUG, _who has been listening, draws his a bit nearer_.) Tell me about it. ILSE (_hesitantly_) It was very strange, and terribly disturbing. I've tried to account for my emotional reaction to it, but I can't do it. I was in Nice on my vacation, and I called a taxi. When I was in it, I happened to look in the little mirror, above the driver's seat, and I saw his eyes. He was staring at me, openly, insolently. They were the queerest eyes I've ever seen. I kept looking at them--although I didn't want to. I felt sure I'd seen him before. He was driving frightfully fast--on those narrow roads that run along the brinks of cliffs--crazily. That wasn't where I wanted to go at all, but I'd forgotten about that. I thought the cab would go over the edge any minute. Finally, I screamed out to him to stop--but I was so terrified that I forgot to say it in French. I spoke German. And with that he did stop, and stepped from his seat in the front and climbed into the inside of the taxi and sat down beside me. And he said, "I thought so! There was something about your eyelids that identified you as a Viennese. I am Viennese too. In fact, _I'm one of those who imparted to Vienna its now faded glory._" Then he put his arms around me and gave me a long kiss. KRUG (_softly_) Well--well---- ELENA (_slowly_) A taxi-driver. ILSE He kissed me so that I couldn't seem to utter a word of protest. I tried to tell myself that he was nothing more than an emotional extravert--but that didn't seem to help me. Then he said: "Permit me to introduce myself: I am the Archduke Rudolf Maximillian von Habsburg." ELENA (_nodding_) Yes! (KRUG _laughs boisterously_. ELENA _rises_.) Father! (KRUG _stifles his mirth_.) EMIL I don't believe it. It was probably some impostor. ILSE No. I asked them at the hotel when I got back. They told me he was well known in Nice. KRUG How long was it be_fore_ you got back? ILSE Oh, he took me right back. . . . You see, he'd stopped his cab in the middle of the road, blocking traffic, and some policemen came along, so he had to remember he was a taxi-driver. . . . (_A little sadly._) KRUG Oh, dear. EMIL (_to_ ILSE, _in an undertone_) You've said about enough! ELENA What did he look like? ILSE He looked as if he'd stepped right out of one of those portraits in the old palace. ELENA Yes! I know. Those full, rich lips. ILSE (_in ardent agreement_) Yes! That's why I thought I'd seen him before. . . . And when I wanted to pay him the fare, he waved it away, and said, "Nonsense, my dear--on this ride, you have been my guest!" KRUG I should say you had. (_He laughs._) Just like him! Isn't it, Elena? Just exactly like all of them. EMIL (_vehemently_) If I had been there, I should have punched his nose. ELENA No--I don't think you would have. ILSE Indeed, you wouldn't! It's all very well for you to talk--but if you'd seen him as I did, you wouldn't have been able to say a word except, "Yes, your Imperial Highness!" ELENA (_to_ ILSE) I gather that you considered the experience not entirely disagreeable. ILSE I can't decide what I think about it. ELENA Have you consulted Doctor Krug? ILSE I haven't had the courage to confess to him how weak I was. KRUG You don't have to consult him. . . . Elena--you know more about these things than Anton ever will, with all his experiments. Tell them about that time when the old Emperor caught you and Rudolf Maximillian, posing on the fountain at Schönbrunn, both naked as the day you were born. ILSE (_gasping_) Oh--then you _knew_ him! KRUG _Knew_ him! (_He can't contain his merriment._) ILSE Oh--then I've said something awful. EMIL Yes! ELENA No, my dear. It wasn't awful at all. I enjoyed every word of it. (ANTON _has come in_.) ELENA Anton, you should have stayed away for another half hour. I was just about to give your students a lecture. ANTON On what subject? ELENA On the past. ANTON Whose? ELENA Mine. ANTON Then don't let me interrupt. Proceed with it, at once. It's very exciting. ELENA No, it isn't. It's very dull. But . . . (_to_ ILSE.) . . . you were right about one thing--it is instructive. And you also (_to_ EMIL) were right, in all those eloquent speeches you made about the better life. Oh, Anton, you'd have been proud of him. ANTON (_smiling_) Go on with your own lecture. ELENA (_to the students_) It is a better life--and I can say that with authority. I was one of the many evils of the old régime--I and that weird taxi-driver who entertained you in his cab. ANTON What _is_ all this? ELENA She had an encounter with Rudolf. ANTON (_startled_) Here in Vienna? ELENA No--in Nice. ANTON (_relieved_) Oh! ELENA (_to_ ILSE) You must tell him all about it. He'll analyze your emotional reactions, as he analyzed mine. I needed his treatment--(_she looks at_ ANTON; _there is an exchange of understanding between them_)--a great deal of it. He cured me--and I delivered myself, body and mind, to the new god. (_She puts her hand on_ ANTON'S _shoulder_.) You need have no doubts as to the legitimacy of that god. You can believe in him, you can worship him, you can follow him to the last statistic! EMIL (_fervently_) Your words are inspiring, Madam! ELENA I intended them to be. ANTON Well! All this is elevating our studies to an alarmingly high plane. (KATHIE _enters from the right, carrying a silver plate on which are several cards_.) However, if you neophytes will step into my office, we'll celebrate high mass. KATHIE Some callers, ma'am. KRUG (_rising_) } } Who? Who _is_ it? } } ELENA } (_Together_) } Just a minute, Kathie. Good-bye, Ilse, and don't worry } about those emotions. They're not uncommon. } ILSE I know--that's what worries me. (KRUG _has gone to_ KATHIE _to have a look at the cards on the plate_.) ELENA Good-bye, Emil. EMIL You remember my name! ELENA Yes, that's one good result of my education under the Habsburgs. KRUG (_excitedly_) Elena! ELENA (_not stopping_) I was trained to remember. (_She beams upon_ EMIL.) KRUG Elena! It's the Count and Countess Von Stainz. ELENA (_startled_) Von Stainz? (_She leaves_ EMIL _abruptly to look at the cards_.) KRUG And Frau Lucher, the old lady herself--and that Povoromo, that guide . . . ELENA (_to_ KATHIE) They're _here_? KATHIE Yes, ma'am. KRUG Certainly they're here, and I know why. KATHIE They're downstairs in the hall--they beg to see you. ANTON (_to the students_) Will you wait in the office? I'll be with you in a minute. (ILSE _and_ EMIL _go out at the left_.) KRUG I can tell you _exactly_ what they're after! ANTON What do they want? KRUG They want her to go to that party at Lucher's Hotel! ANTON Party! What party? KRUG They're having a big celebration! There's going to be a rumpus! (_He is in a high state of glee at this unexpected development, but no one is paying any attention to him._) ELENA (_to_ ANTON) It's the hundredth anniversary of the birth of that noble monarch, Franz Josef the First. Frau Lucher thought that it should be fittingly observed. KRUG Yes, and she's bribed the police! ANTON Well--what about it? KRUG They want Elena to go, that's what about it! ANTON Do you want to go, Elena? ELENA Anton! ANTON What? ELENA I don't want to see these people. ANTON Why not? They're friends of yours, aren't they? ELENA They were, a long time ago. ANTON Well, then--in that case--I can't see why . . . (_He sees_ KATHIE.) Wait in the hall, Kathie. KATHIE Yes, Herr Doctor. (_She goes out at the right and shuts the door._) KRUG Why do you want her to wait in the hall? ANTON If they're old friends of yours, I can't see any reason why you should refuse them. . . . Unless . . . ELENA Unless what? ANTON Unless there might be disagreeable associations. ELENA (_with surprising vehemence_) Of course there are disagreeable associations! The Count and Countess Von Stainz are dreadful people. They were two of the worst of the court toadies. ANTON But what about this Povoromo? He's a harmless and rather pathetic professional guide. There's nothing upsetting about . . . KRUG But don't you remember--he was one of the cronies of the Archduke. . . . ANTON And Frau Lucher--what's wrong with her? ELENA I hate her! I hate the sight of her hotel! ANTON Why? . . . Because it was the scene of so many of your youthful indiscretions with him! KRUG Are you talking about Rudolf Maximillian? ANTON That damned name again! (_He crosses to the door at the left._) Now please, Elena--if you don't want to see them, then don't see them. But don't ask me what to do. I have those students on my hands. I'm very busy. (_He goes out._) KRUG Did you hear what he said about that damned name? He can't seem to get over it. (ELENA _crosses to the right_.) ELENA Kathie. KATHIE Yes, ma'am. ELENA Tell them to come up. KATHIE Yes, ma'am. KRUG (_delighted_) That's the way, Elena! (_He sits down and makes himself entirely comfortable._) It'll do you good to talk to 'em. I often think you don't see half enough of your old friends. ELENA Go to your room, Father. KRUG Why? ELENA Because I want you to. KRUG But I'd like to have a look at them. ELENA Go on! Please. KRUG (_going_) Oh, dear! They never let me see anything interesting that goes on in this house. . . . (_He has shuffled out at the upper left._) (KATHIE _returns, holding open the door_.) KATHIE In here, please. (FRAU LUCHER _comes in. She is a formidable old party, absurdly dressed in ancient clothes, but imposing. Her voice is gruff, her expression unchangeably hostile, her manner toward all arrogant and despotic. Behind her come the_ COUNT _and_ COUNTESS VON STAINZ _and_ POFFY. _The_ COUNT _is about fifty-five. On his gray countenance are the ravages of time, disappointment, and drink. His courtliness, however, is unimpaired. The_ COUNTESS, _about fifty, is dowdy and excessively emotional_. POFFY _is a tragic but gallant ex-officer of the Imperial Army, who is now engaged in the great work of guiding American tourists about the Hofburg_.) ELENA Tatti! I'm _so_ glad . . . COUNTESS Elena! My angel! My beautiful little angel! (_She rushes into an embrace._) ELENA (_to the_ COUNT, _over the_ COUNTESS'S _shoulder_) Hello, Franz, how are you? COUNT Not very well, thank you. (POFFY _and_ LUCHER _have hung back, as though dubious of the quality of their reception_.) ELENA I'm so sorry. Hello, Poffy. POFFY (_bowing_) Elena! ELENA Good afternoon, Frau Lucher. LUCHER Good afternoon, Frau Krug. COUNTESS But, my _darling_! Ten years have passed and you are not one day older. Look at her, Franz! COUNT I have been looking at her. LUCHER Would you mind if I sat down? (_She sits, heavily, on a chair at the left._) ELENA No. Everybody sit down. LUCHER My feet hurt. COUNTESS I can't take my eyes off you, my little angel. You're lovely! I'm about to sob! ELENA Now don't be embarrassing, Tatti. LUCHER Let her sob if it'll make her any happier. COUNT Don't mind our gaping at you, Elena. It makes us think that maybe we haven't grown old, either. ELENA Where have you been? COUNTESS In a ghastly London suburb . . . COUNT Upper Tooting, if you must know. COUNTESS Breathing in English fog, eating English food . . . COUNT And drinking English beer. LUCHER That isn't beer! COUNT Which reminds me, Elena--my throat is parched. COUNTESS Franz! COUNT Would it be causing you too much trouble if I . . . LUCHER He's asking for a drink. (ELENA _goes up to a table on which are a decanter and some glasses_.) ELENA I have some port here--would port do? COUNT Admirably! COUNTESS I told you you were not to touch a drop! COUNT We've had a long train journey and I simply must wash the cinders from my gullet. COUNTESS Elena, don't give it to him! ELENA Oh, a little port can't hurt him, Tatti. (_She hands him the glass._) COUNT Of course not. Your health, my dear. LUCHER Do you mind if I smoke? ELENA No, have a cigarette. (LUCHER _has opened her enormous black hand-bag and extracted therefrom a large silver cigar-case_.) LUCHER You needn't bother. (_She takes out a cigar, and bites off the end._) ELENA Still smoking the same brand? LUCHER No, those Cubans no longer send the cream of the crop to Vienna. (POFFY _steps forward to light the cigar_.) COUNTESS There is nothing the same here. After ten years of exile--to find this. Oh, Elena--if you only _knew_ what we've been through. _I've_ been a seamstress, my darling. A _seamstress_! Making sensible underwear for English frumps. We've gone without lunch for three months in order to save enough to be here. And I give you my word, when we arrived here this morning, and drove through the streets, we wept--we literally _wept_--to see that our beloved Vienna is undergoing its last, gruesome agonies. ELENA Those aren't death agonies that you see, Tatti. They're the throes of childbirth. A new life is being created. COUNTESS _You_ may well say that. (_She looks about the room._) The new life seems to have done well for you. ELENA Yes, it has! (_There is, perhaps, a suggestion of defiance in this._) COUNT (_tactfully_) And by the way--I hope we're to be presented to your husband. ELENA I'm afraid he's rather busy just now. COUNTESS What's he like, this doctor of yours? ELENA Well--he's brilliant, and charming, and kind . . . POFFY And famous! When I'm guiding American tourists past here, I point with pride--"Residence of the eminent Dr. Krug"--and they're thrilled. ELENA (_smiling_) Especially the women. POFFY Ah, yes! LUCHER Isn't it about time to come to the main subject? That is--if you all feel that there have been enough polite preliminaries. ELENA There's no great hurry. POFFY By all means! Proceed, Lucher! LUCHER Well--the main subject is this, in so many words: they want you to change your mind about attending the party this evening. They begged me to come with them, and talk with you, on the supposition that I can terrorize any one into doing anything I ask. Strictly between ourselves, I don't think you'll be missing much if you don't come. By the looks of this gathering, it won't be very . . . COUNTESS If that's what you think, then why are you giving this party? COUNT Why have you invited us? LUCHER Even I have my sentimental moments, Countess. When I realized that this was the hundredth anniversary, I thought that we might have a revival of the old insanity, for one evening, at my expense. I thought there might be a bit of amusement. However, I've decided that I was over-optimistic . . . so now you know how I feel about all this, Frau Krug, and perhaps you'll be good enough to tell them how _you_ feel, and get it over with. COUNT You really can't disappoint us, Elena. We've looked forward so to this, and to having you there, laughing, in the way you always laughed. ELENA But that's just it, Franz. I couldn't laugh. I'd probably weep. COUNTESS Splendid! We'll all weep together, and have a glorious time! LUCHER And when you've become sufficiently gloomy, you'll start throwing bottles through windows. I know! ELENA Who's to be here? COUNT Well--old General Hoetzler is expected . . . ELENA _Is_ he? COUNT Do you know what he's doing now? He's a train announcer in the railway station at Erfurt. ELENA The poor old dear. COUNTESS And Talisz is coming. He's a bookkeeper, somewhere or other. And then the two Koeppkes--I forget what they do. LUCHER They run a lodging house in Zermatt--and I've _heard_ . . . ALL Yes? LUCHER Well--never mind. POFFY And the beautiful Gisella Von Krett. She's here already. ELENA Gisella! POFFY She's a governess with a Sicilian family in Palermo. ELENA And who else? Is there anyone else? POFFY Well--of course there were a good many who wanted to come but they were--lacking in funds. COUNT Oh, but more will turn up at the last minute to help us consume Lucher's champagne. It's sure to be the jolliest gathering. . . . LUCHER Did I say that champagne would be served? COUNT I have never attended a party at the Hotel Lucher without champagne. POFFY You're thinking of the days when we paid--and well--for our drinks. ELENA Oh, I think Frau Lucher won't be stingy with her champagne. Will you? COUNT That's right, Elena. You were the only one who could ever order her about. You and Rudolf. (LUCHER _bursts out laughing_.) What in God's name are you roaring at? LUCHER I was just thinking of something. (_She is still emitting gusty, gaseous roars of laughter._) POFFY (_to_ ELENA) I gather it was something mildly amusing. LUCHER Oh, you remember it, Poffy--the night that Rudolf gave her the diamond necklace. You were there. POFFY I was indeed. LUCHER He came stalking into my café at two o'clock in the morning--cursing at me--cursing at Strup--presenting medals to the bus-boys. He said he had to have a magnum of 1812, a basket of pomegranates, and a diamond necklace for Fräulein Vervesz--_at once!_--or he'd break every bone in my old body. I had to rout Barnowsky the jeweler out of bed to get the diamonds. COUNT (_laughing_) Served him right, the old bandit. LUCHER (_to_ ELENA) And when I gave His Imperial Highness the necklace, he never said so much as a "Thank you." He merely snatched it, and then threw it into your lap. ELENA (_to_ LUCHER) No, no! That wasn't what he did. He didn't give me the necklace until later, when we were upstairs. He first took hold of my hand and said, "Isn't it about time for a dance?" Then he waltzed me out of the room, and on the way out we bumped into you. (ANTON _comes in_.) LUCHER But I burned his neck with my cigar. (_They all laugh--but their mirth congeals when they see_ ANTON. _The_ COUNT _and_ POFFY _rise_.) ELENA Anton, are you finished with the students already? ANTON Yes, I dismissed them. I was anxious to meet your friends. ELENA (_surprised_) Oh. . . . This is my husband. ANTON How do you do, Frau Lucher? ELENA The Count and Countess Von Stainz--Herr Povoromo. (_There are murmured salutations._) ANTON Yes. I know Herr Povoromo. COUNT Herr Professor Doctor--permit me to felicitate you upon your wife. She is quite the most gracious, the most sympathetic and the loveliest of the ladies. ANTON (_bowing_) I am inclined to agree with you. COUNTESS Herr Professor--we came to beg Elena, to plead with her, to be with us this evening. COUNT It isn't so much a matter of pleading--though we'll do that, too, heaven knows. But we do want to assure her what a delightful occasion . . . LUCHER (_flatly_) The fact is that, without Frau Krug, the party will be a disaster. ANTON (_amiably_) Well--in that case--I hope she'll go. COUNTESS There, Elena, that settles it! Your husband approves. LUCHER Perhaps the Herr Professor Doctor will also attend? ANTON Oh, that's very kind of you, but I really couldn't. I'm afraid I shouldn't quite belong. ELENA I've been afraid I shouldn't belong either. But now I'm beginning to think that it might be great fun. COUNT Good for you, Elena! COUNTESS And good for you, Herr Doctor! You are worthy of her! COUNT You're going to make this occasion a memorable one. LUCHER (_with an air of finality_) Well, now that that's settled, we can go. POFFY (_stepping forward, hesitantly_) Just one minute, Elena. ELENA Yes, Poffy? POFFY Elena--I--think I know why you're changing your mind. ELENA Why? POFFY Because you realize this celebration will be nothing more than a gathering of broken-down old outcasts, like myself--with no one to give us animation, no one to give us the illusion of youth . . . but . . . I'm afraid that it may not be quite what you expect. . . . LUCHER What are you _talking_ about? POFFY (_deliberately_) I received a message this afternoon. ELENA Yes? (_As though she had expected this._) POFFY I was instructed to say nothing about it to any one. But I think you should know about it before you go to that party; and you too should know, Herr Professor . . . if I might have a word with you in private . . . COUNTESS In private? What on earth . . . POFFY You'll forgive me . . . COUNT (_stepping toward_ POFFY) Rudolf? ELENA He's to be here? LUCHER No! POFFY He left Nice yesterday on his way to Vienna. COUNTESS Rudolf! COUNT (_exultantly_) I can't believe it! It's too good to . . . ANTON Will they allow him to cross the border? LUCHER (_emphatically_) No! They'll never let him in after all the things he's said and done. The officials are so stupid that the smaller fry can sneak past them, begging your pardon, Count and Countess, but they're not so stupid as to allow the most violent member of the Habsburg faction to get back into Austria. POFFY Regardless of all that, Elena--I thought you should know. I ask your pardon, Herr Professor, for having mentioned the subject. ANTON Not at all. There's nothing I can say. It's for Elena to decide. ELENA I'm not going. COUNTESS But, my little angel--what Lucher said is true. He couldn't possibly come into the country . . . ELENA I'm not going! COUNT You can't change your mind, Elena. We need you. You've always made things go. Have you forgotten all those times when . . . ELENA Yes. I have forgotten. And my dear old friends, I advise you to forget, too. COUNTESS You're asking a great deal of people who have nothing but memories to live on. ELENA That's just it! You're trying to live on something that doesn't exist. That's why you're all so degraded and spent. That's why you have to drug yourselves with such infantile pretense as this reunion. Wallowing in sentiment! Weeping into your beer! COUNTESS I never hope to hear a more heartless, brutal statement--and from you, Elena, of all people. ELENA I know it's brutal--and I feel miserable for having said it, if that's any consolation to you. But it's all true, every word of it. You know it is. LUCHER Of course it's true! I only wish you'd said it all to me before I'd let myself in for this nonsense. COUNTESS It would have been kinder to have told your servant to deny us admission. . . . ELENA Yes. COUNTESS To have slammed the door in our faces. ELENA You're right, Tatti. COUNT (_to_ POFFY) Why didn't you have sense enough to obey orders and keep that information to yourself? ELENA (_interrupting_) No, don't blame him. It was very good of you to warn me, Poffy. But the warning didn't make the slightest difference. You can see why--and so can you, Lucher. You've been in Vienna all through this. You know how changed everything is. POFFY I know, I know, my dear Elena. We've put you in a horribly unfair position. COUNTESS _We're_ not doing that! It's not _our_ fault that she's turned against her own kind. POFFY It's only proof of her good sense. COUNT Yes--and look at the results of her good sense! And then look at us, who wouldn't accept the inevitable. COUNTESS It's to our everlasting credit that we didn't. (_She goes over to the_ COUNT, _and takes his arm_.) LUCHER (_rising laboriously_) I'm not enjoying this discussion. . . . Come on. . . . I must arrange about the flowers for the party. I'm getting them second-hand from Gruen the undertaker. . . . Good-bye, Frau Krug. Stop in at the hotel some time for a cup of coffee. (_She goes out at the right._) COUNTESS Good-bye, Elena. I doubt very much that we shall see you again. (_She goes out._) COUNT (_with attempted courtesy_) You see--we start the homeward journey to England to-morrow. ELENA Good-bye, Franz. COUNT Herr Professor Doctor. (_He bows and goes._) POFFY I'm sorry, Elena--very sorry. . . . ELENA Good-bye, Poffy. Come to see us again soon. Perhaps my husband can do . . . POFFY My duties as professional guide occupy much of my time--but perhaps I'll find a brief opportunity. Good-bye, Herr Doctor. Good-bye, Elena. (_He kisses her hand and goes. For a few moments_, ELENA _stares angrily at the door through which they have gone_.) ANTON You did not appear to best advantage in that encounter. ELENA (_too heatedly_) What could I have said or done to make those imbeciles understand? They think I could sit there, and joke with them, and drink with them, as though nothing had happened. ANTON (_gently_) You said that it might be great fun. ELENA Fun! Carousing with the Countess Von Stainz? And there'll be others at the party even worse than she is. ANTON When I came into this room, you were laughing with them. You were just about to accept their invitation. ELENA Why did you come in here at all, if you were so colossally busy? Why didn't you let me get rid of them by myself? ANTON I came to the conclusion that you should go to that party. ELENA What? ANTON There seems to me no reason why you shouldn't. . . . ELENA (_facing him_) Are you going to carry on the attack? ANTON Attack against what? ELENA Against my peace of mind! ANTON I thought so. ELENA Oh! I suppose you consider that it will be good for me to go there and feel wretched and out of place, merely to assure myself that I'm right. Do I have to go there for that? ANTON Are you entirely sure that you are right? ELENA You can stand there and ask me that? ANTON If you take my advice, Elena, you'll go. You know, you may not be quite the calm, superior being that you fancy yourself. ELENA (_interrupting_) Are you prescribing for me, as though I were . . . ANTON Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. The tender spot has been uncovered. Now we can take measures to cure it. . . . Elena, as your family physician, as well as your husband, I order you to go to Lucher's to-night, and do the inane things you used to do, and that you still secretly think were gloriously romantic. ELENA Anton--I know you've been subjecting me to treatment ever since we were married. But you've at least been subtle about it. Now your methods are a little too obvious to be effective. ANTON I've revised my methods because I learned something myself when I saw you with your old friends. You deliver all this fine talk about the old days and the new--the woman who was reborn after the revolution. And now some pitiable spectres appear to you and you can't bear to face them. ELENA I can face anything, including your vast overpowering intellect. ANTON There are some things you can't face, my darling, because you can't see them. You're still in a state of emotional bondage. You're tied to those people by a cord that's strong even though it's invisible. You must cut that cord--and here's the chance to do it. ELENA When I require your professional services I shall make an appointment and come to your office. ANTON The appointment is now! (_They face each other through a moment of angry silence. Then_ ELENA _goes to him_.) ELENA Oh, Anton--this is so silly. ANTON No, it isn't silly. (_They sit down together on the end of the couch._) ELENA Two grown-up people, shouting at each other . . . ANTON Sometimes we have to shout. . . . Elena--there's never been a complete understanding between us. There's been a ghost in our house, an arrogant ghost, blocking the fulfillment of our life together. A thousand different times when I thought that at last we'd achieved the thing that we both want, he has stepped into the room, and laughed at me. (ELENA _glances involuntarily toward the door at the right_.) ELENA The bearer of that damned name! ANTON Yes. . . . When I heard he might be there to-night it was something of a shock. . . . But then I thought of the advice I had given to other patients of mine. . . . You've seen what ten years have done to the Count and Countess Von Stainz. Well--see what the same years have done to him. . . . Go to that party, have a good look at him, and then come home and admit that I'm right. ELENA You're always right, Anton. That's your only fault. ANTON (_laughing_) Yes--I've often worried about that. (_He kisses her hair._) Now come, my dear, dress yourself up, and try to persuade your old friends that you're still one of them. Sing, dance, flirt--relax! Let yourself go completely! And see what happens. ELENA Let myself go. . . . Is that the prescription? ANTON Why not? (_Old_ KRUG _bustles in from the upper left_.) KRUG Well--I saw them! I had a good look at them from the window--and a more down-at-the-heel lot I never clapped eyes on. Oh, I laughed! I laughed when I thought of the old days when . . . ANTON You talk too much. (_He has risen and is going toward the door to his offices._) KRUG Then maybe I can play the wireless? ANTON No. (_To_ ELENA.) Put on that white dress. You know--the one you got in Paris. You look lovely in that. (_He goes out at the left._) KRUG (_mystified_) He wants you to dress up. What for? Does he want you to go to the party? (_He comes close to her._) ELENA He's a little mixed up. He has me confused with that last patient of his--the one from Pennsylvania. KRUG I don't understand what you mean, Elena. Has anything gone wrong? ELENA No, father. Not yet. . . . Why don't you play the wireless? KRUG Now? ELENA Yes, dear--I want to hear it. KRUG Ah, Elena--_you're_ my friend! (_He leans over her. She pats his cheek, tenderly. . . . He then turns, happily, goes up to the radio, and switches it on. It is playing "The Dollar Princess Waltz."_) KRUG Listen, Elena. It's the band at the Bristol. They always play the old tunes, for a half hour before supper--to give us old-timers an appetite. . . . It's beautiful, isn't it? (_He comes down, toward the right._) ELENA No. (_Nevertheless, she is swaying ever so slightly in time to the music._ _Old_ KRUG _watches her, fascinated. . . . At length she rises, crosses to the door at the left, and knocks._ KRUG _sits down at the right to await developments_.) ELENA (_calling_) Anton! KRUG Oh, what do you want _him_ for? He'll only make us turn it off. (ANTON _appears in the doorway_.) ANTON What is it? ELENA Will you please look in the safe--in my jewel box? There's a necklace there--a diamond necklace. ANTON I'll get it. (_He goes out._) (_Swaying more perceptibly, exuberantly, to the rhythm of "The Dollar Princess," she crosses to the chair where old_ KRUG _is sitting_.) KRUG You didn't mean what you said, about the music, did you, Elena? It really is beautiful, isn't it? ELENA Yes, father. Beautiful. (_She extends her arms. Gleefully, he jumps up. They waltz together._) CURTAIN ACT II _The scene is a private room upstairs in the Hotel Lucher, a stuffy edifice built in the gaslit 'Eighties. Although redolent of stale plush, which is suggestive to the Anglo-Saxon mind of Victorianism and therefore of dreary propriety, this venerable tavern retains a winked intimation of Viennese caprice. Its sombre salons can still sparkle with happy imaginings of frivolities which no longer are--and perhaps never were--but which eternally should be._ _At right, down-stage, is a leather swinging door, leading to the pantries and kitchens. Up-stage right and left are two more doors. In the centre, at the back, double doors open upon a bedroom in which is an enormous, canopied bed. Downstage left, double doors open upon a larger room in which the banquet is to be held._ _Above the door at the back, which is two or three steps up from the level of the stage, is hung an oval portrait of the late Emperor Franz Josef I. A_ PORTER, _on a step-ladder, is arranging laurel festoons about this portrait. Another_ PORTER _is holding the ladder_. _At the left is a gilded couch with plum-colored brocade upholstery. By it is a small gilded, marble-topped tabouret. At the right is a round table, also marble-topped, behind which, as though enthroned, sits_ FRAU LUCHER, _administering orders to a respectful, palpitant group which includes_ STRUP, _the aged head-waiter, and_ BREDZI, _the band-leader, who is wearing a frogged green coat and is carrying his violin. He has given_ LUCHER _the programme of selections for the evening and is awaiting her verdict on it. . . . There are also present two lesser_ WAITERS _and two quivering_ BUS-BOYS. A BELL-BOY _is posted in the doorway at the left. . . . There are other chairs against the walls and perhaps a few potted palms. From the left, offstage, the small orchestra is playing a brisk march, as vigorously as its meagre equipment and talents will allow._ LUCHER (_to_ BREDZI) There is too much of the Mozart. . . . BREDZI No doubt, Frau Lucher. LUCHER No doubt whatever. They will want waltzes, apassionata, until they get drunk, and then they will want more waltzes. Sentimental ninnies! (_She hands the programme back to_ BREDZI.) They will want to weep on each others' shoulders. You understand? BREDZI Perfectly, ma'am. LUCHER Accompaniment for sobs--that's all that's expected of you. (_Her cigar has gone out. A_ BUS-BOY _hastily strikes a match for her. She exhales a cloud of smoke, then turns to_ STRUP.) Now, Strup, I'm ready for the wines. (STRUP _hands her the wine card_.) STRUP (_pridefully_) I have arranged everything. LUCHER Oh, have you! (_She scans the wine card with a practised eye._) Champagne! Cliquot 1911! You are planning to serve that rabble Cliquot 1911? STRUP It's the best we have, madam. LUCHER And you're granting them the best! STRUP It is a matter of tradition. LUCHER So? You're putting tradition ahead of common sense, are you? STRUP (_fearfully_) It isn't that, Frau Lucher, I only felt that . . . LUCHER (_slapping the table_) The employees of this hotel will take their notions of tradition and of everything else from me! (_She includes all of them in the same decisive glare._) You will serve Tizane with the roast--a half bottle for each of them. When they've guzzled that much, nothing but beer. Vienna beer, not Muenchner. STRUP Very good, ma'am. LUCHER A sage observation, Herr Strup. . . . Now, all of you, remember this: Courtesy, deference--treat them as if they were still lords of creation and as if you expected heavy tips for your services, which, I promise you, you won't get. All the old formalities, the old nonsense, from all of you--until they start breaking the furniture--then, _a firm hand!_ If you can't manage them by yourselves, send for me. STRUP Yes, ma'am. We shall, ma'am. LUCHER You will serve the aperitifs in here. That is all. STRUP Yes, ma'am. To your posts, _march!_ (_The_ WAITERS _and_ BUS-BOYS _hurry out_. LUCHER_ turns her attention to the men at the ladder_.) LUCHER You! You have done enough fussing with the Emperor. Get that ladder out of here. (_Hastily, they fold up the ladder and depart. . . . A_ BELL-BOY _appears in the large door at the right, ushering in_ POFFY, _now wearing a once-resplendent uniform which reeks of moth-balls and naphtha_.) BOY Herr Povoromo! STRUP (_bowing low_) Herr Baron. POFFY (_mildly astonished_) What? Oh! I'm greatly obliged for the restoration of the title. (_He bows to_ STRUP.) LUCHER Are they beginning to arrive? POFFY Yes--aperitifs are in order. STRUP Yes, Herr Baron. (BREDZI _and_ STRUP _go out at the left_. POFFY _advances jauntily toward_ LUCHER.) POFFY I came to see you about the final arrangements. LUCHER The final arrangements are made. (_The march music offstage stops._) POFFY In particular reference to the wine . . . LUCHER (_consulting her list_) With the soup, sherry--nine schillings. With the trout, Grinzinger--seven schillings. With the roast, Tizane--nine schillings. POFFY (_shocked_) Tizane! Is that the best that this superior establishment can afford? LUCHER On this occasion, yes. POFFY There will be complaints. LUCHER You people are not paying for this affair. I am. POFFY We are aware of that condition. Nevertheless--I must insist--there will be complaints. LUCHER Did that message you received say what time he would arrive? POFFY I expected him on the afternoon train from Salzburg. But he was not on it. LUCHER (_with a look at her watch_) No. It is now half after eight. POFFY There will be another train. LUCHER Yes--and he won't be on that, either. It's just as I thought. They've stopped him at the border. . . . Are there any unexpected arrivals? POFFY No. Here's the complete list. Only eight names instead of the expected thirty. (POFFY _takes the list from his pocket_.) LUCHER Let me see it. (_He hands it to her_. . . . TORLINI, _the hotel's courier, enters from the upper left, accompanied by an officer of police_.) TORLINI Frau Lucher! LUCHER Yes? TORLINI The police, ma'am. (LUCHER _is not in the least disturbed by this announcement. She is examining critically the list of guests._) LUCHER (_to the_ POLICEMAN) What do you want? POLICEMAN The Herr Inspector thought it might be as well for me to have a look around. LUCHER Go ahead and look. You'll observe nothing of the slightest interest. (_The_ POLICEMAN _nods and looks about the room, paying special attention to the portrait of Franz Josef_.) POFFY Surely, for only eight, you could afford Moët et Chandon, at the least. LUCHER No. There's not one on this list with a palate left to his name. The bottles of Tizane will be wrapped in napkins. No one will know the difference. POFFY (_bowing_) As you say, my dear hostess. LUCHER Exactly as I say! (_She hands him back the list. The_ POLICEMAN _is at the large door at the left._) POLICEMAN (_pointing off to the left_) Will the reception be held in there? LUCHER Yes. And it will be kept in there. (_The_ POLICEMAN _steps out at the left_. LUCHER _speaks in an undertone to_ POFFY.) If he had arrived it would have been different. I would have served the best. I'd even have done it if she had consented to come. But for the rest of you, Tizane is good enough. POFFY She was right, of course. She'd have had a poor time. LUCHER Yes. She was right. . . . But I'd like to have heard what the great psychologist said to her after we left. (_The_ POLICEMAN _has returned_.) POLICEMAN Who is to be present at this function? POFFY Here is the list. (_He hands the list to the_ POLICEMAN, _then turns to_ LUCHER.) And if he can find any cause for excitement in that group, then perhaps it may be a good party, after all. POLICEMAN Is this all? LUCHER That is all, and as I informed the inspector--there'll be no one of the slightest importance here to-night. (_Having looked over the list, the_ POLICEMAN _sticks it in the large note-book which he carries in a breast pocket_.) POLICEMAN If you don't mind, I think I'll have a look at these guests of yours and make certain that this list is correct. LUCHER You're calling me a liar? POLICEMAN No. I'm only being careful. (_He turns to the left and starts to go out._) POFFY Perhaps you'd like me to present them to you formally. (_He and the_ POLICEMAN _go out at the left_.) LUCHER Torlini, give that policeman a drink. TORLINI Yes, ma'am. (_He goes off at the left._ FRAU LUCHER _opens her hand-bag and takes therefrom a note-book and gold pencil_. _She is leaning over the little marble-topped table at the left, figuring out the cost of this affair. The aged_ CHEF _rushes in from the right. He is in a state of terrific perturbation, as is a_ WAITER, _who follows him_.) CHEF Frau Lucher! LUCHER (_calmly_) Well--what is it? (_Her back is toward the_ CHEF _so that she does not see him bow low as the_ ARCHDUKE RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN _comes in from the right_. . . . RUDOLF _is tall, lean, deliberately ominous, consciously mad--an ageless prince who, despite the absurd inappropriateness of the Tyrolean costume that he now wears, brings back with him into the Hotel Lucher the semblance of imperial splendor which it had known when such outrageous beings as he were lords of Vienna. . . . He is followed by a_ WAITER _and two_ BUS-BOYS, _who carry his cape, haversack, blanket roll and sword holster. Even these_ BUS-BOYS, _who were infants when the House of Habsburg fell--even they are awe-struck, trepidant in the presence of a magnificence which they have been rigorously taught to scorn_. . . . RUDOLF _crosses to_ LUCHER _and administers a loving whack to her ample bottom_.) RUDOLF Good evening, venerable strumpet. (LUCHER _turns, stares at him, mutters some blasphemous exclamation of dismay, curtseys involuntarily, then rushes to the doors at the left and shuts them_. RUDOLF _follows her_.) RUDOLF Still wearing the red flannel drawers? (_He lifts her skirts from behind._) Thank God, there's something in Vienna that hasn't been changed. LUCHER (_ferociously_) How did you come here? RUDOLF I came by various means of conveyance which I shall not describe in detail. My entrance to the hotel was made through the kitchens--and whatever appetite I may have had is now gone. You received no letter from me? LUCHER No. RUDOLF Good! I wrote none. (_He strolls toward the right, pauses, and sniffs._) There's the same nauseating stench of fish in this hotel. By God--I believe it's the same _fish!_ LUCHER Do _they_ know? RUDOLF Who are they? LUCHER Poffy--Count von Stainz--Hoetzler . . . RUDOLF Is it necessary for me to advise _them_ of my intentions? Is it? LUCHER They will be startled. RUDOLF As they should be! I will occupy the Imperial Suite . . . LUCHER The Imperial Suite no longer exists. RUDOLF Restore it! LUCHER (_to the_ BUS-BOYS) Is that his luggage? BUS-BOYS (_eagerly_) Yes, Frau Lucher. We were commanded to . . . CHEF Yes, Frau Lucher. His Imperial Highness ordered that we take it to. . . . LUCHER Put it in there. (_She indicates the door at the back. The_ CHEF _motions to the two_ BOYS _who hustle out as directed_. _The_ WAITER _goes with them_.) Do you happen to know that the police are in the building? RUDOLF _You!_ Were you addressing the chef? LUCHER (_grudgingly_) Your Imperial Highness. . . . (_To the_ CHEF.) You may go. (_The_ CHEF _starts to go out at the right_.) RUDOLF Wait! (_The_ CHEF _stops, and bows_.) You recognized me, didn't you? CHEF (_pleased_) Yes, Your Serene Highness. (_He bows again._) RUDOLF You did _not_ recognize me. I am travelling incognito. CHEF (_bowing_) Yes, Your Serene Highness. (_He goes out at the right._) LUCHER If your memory were better, you would remember that _this_ was the Imperial Suite. RUDOLF (_looking about the room_) By God, it is! (_He sees the portrait of Franz Josef, salutes it, then sits in the chair back of the table at the right and starts to take off his shoes. The_ WAITER _comes out of the room at the back, followed by the_ BUS-BOYS). I want some brandy. LUCHER Brandy. WAITER (_bowing_) At once, Your Serene Highness. (_He goes._ RUDOLF _is shaking some pebbles from one of his shoes into an ash-tray on the table_.) RUDOLF A cigarette. LUCHER Cigarette! (_One of the_ BUS-BOYS _places a cigarette between_ RUDOLF'S "_full, rich lips_." _The other boy lights it._) BUS-BOYS (_bowing together_) Your Serene Highness. (_They scurry out at the right._ RUDOLF _exhales a huge cloud of smoke. Then he laughs._) RUDOLF It's incredible! I believe that even the aged worms in your woodwork recognize me, and are thrilled by my return. I don't blame them--after all these years with nothing to do but sit back and watch themselves decay. How have you managed to keep this decrepit establishment going? LUCHER We have plenty of trade. (_The_ WAITER _comes in with a tray on which is a bottle of brandy and one enormous glass, which he puts on the table_.) RUDOLF Loud-mouthed American tourists, I suppose. LUCHER Yes! They flock here to ogle the scenes of your triumphs. (_She is pouring a drink of brandy._) RUDOLF Disgusting! LUCHER (_to the_ WAITER) Tell Torlini I want to see him. WAITER Yes, Frau Lucher. (_The_ WAITER _goes out at the left_.) RUDOLF I find the whole aspect of this place depressing, and at the same time, rather gratifying. . . . LUCHER (_interrupting him_) Now, I wasn't joking when I warned you about the police. . . . RUDOLF (_through her speech_) Will you please not talk when I'm speaking? Sit down! (_Under protest_, LUCHER _has stopped talking and sits down across the table from him_.) Does this city realize that it's hopelessly defunct? It is like a corpse that twitches with the reflexes of life--a gruesome spectacle. I don't envy you, Lucher, having to abide here among the remains. . . . I didn't really mean that. I do envy you. (_He gulps some brandy._) They drained the blood from Vienna when they removed us--and now observe the results! Serves the swine right. (_Another gulp._) LUCHER Do you wish to change your clothes? RUDOLF Naturally, I don't intend to exhibit myself in this outlandish costume. LUCHER (_rising_) Then you had better go in there, and _stay_ in there, till I can get rid of the police. RUDOLF Sit down! (_Subduing several choice oaths, she again sits._) Who is here, besides Poffy and that senile incompetent, General Hoetzler? LUCHER The Baroness von Krett, and Koeppke and his wife, and Talisz . . . RUDOLF And Elena Vervesz. She is here, too. LUCHER No. RUDOLF She is late. LUCHER She is not coming! RUDOLF What? She is not in Vienna? LUCHER Yes--but she has flatly refused to come! RUDOLF Oh! She didn't know I would be here. . . . Married, isn't she? LUCHER Yes. To a doctor--a very important doctor. RUDOLF I have a distinct feeling that he will be called out to-night, to some distant place--an emergency case. . . . Have you seen her lately? LUCHER I went to her house to-day. (_The orchestra starts offstage, playing the opening bars of "The Blue Danube."_) RUDOLF How is she? Old? LUCHER No. (_Reminded by the music that the door is open, she rises and starts over toward the left._) RUDOLF Does she bulge? (LUCHER _does not answer_. _He roars._) Does she bulge? (LUCHER _turns to him_.) Here? (_He indicates breasts._) LUCHER No! (_She shuts the doors at the left, so that the music can now be heard only faintly._) RUDOLF Send for her. LUCHER She will not come. RUDOLF Tell her that her one true lover has condescended to be present. LUCHER I tell you, _she will not come!_ RUDOLF (_rising suddenly_) And I am telling you that she _will_ come! LUCHER She has a different life now . . . RUDOLF (_advancing_) If by any chance she should not be here when I am ready . . . (_He takes hold of her throat._) But you know the consequences--don't you, old filthy? _You_ know! (_He laughs, gives her a playful shake, and kisses her._) LUCHER (_through his kisses_) There is something else in Vienna that is not changed. You! You are the same maniac--like all your wretched family. (RUDOLF _laughs, releases her, and walks over to the table at the right_.) RUDOLF No--not a maniac. It is only that I am constantly intoxicated with my own charm. (_He starts to yodel. He picks up the bottle and glass, also his green Tyrolean hat._) I want a valet. (_He puts on his hat and crosses to_ LUCHER.) Tell Elena to take all the time she wants. I don't approve of women who jump into their clothes like fire-horses. She must make every possible effort to look alluring. (_He pinches her and strolls off yodelling into the bedroom at the back. He starts to remove his clothes._ LUCHER _nervously rushes up with unusual alacrity and closes the doors after him. Then she crosses to the doors at the left, opens them, and calls:_) LUCHER Strup! (_The music is playing loudly._) _Strup!_ STRUP (_from offstage_) Yes, Frau Lucher. (_He hurries in._) LUCHER (_in measured tones_) You will take the Tizane off the ice. We will serve champagne--Cliquot 1911. STRUP What? LUCHER Did you hear! STRUP (_astounded_) The Cliquot 1911. (LUCHER _crosses slowly to the table at the right_.) LUCHER Yes, and there will be nine covers, instead of eight. Have them get that big chair that's in the office--that gold chair. (TORLINI _has appeared in the doorway, followed by the_ POLICEMAN, _whom_ LUCHER _does not at first see_.) STRUP Yes, ma'am. Nine covers. (_Hearing this, the_ POLICEMAN _takes out his note-book and the list of guests which_ POFFY _had given him_.) LUCHER Put the gold chair at the head of the table. And I want caviar served. . . . TORLINI You sent for me, Frau Lucher? LUCHER Yes, I did. (_She sees the_ POLICEMAN.) But it's . . . POLICEMAN Nine covers? There are only eight here. LUCHER I neglected to count myself. I am to attend the party. POLICEMAN The gold chair will be for you? LUCHER Why not? It's my hotel, isn't it? Go on, Strup, do as you're told. (STRUP _goes out at the left_. LUCHER _goes close to_ TORLINI.) LUCHER I want to send a message--(_The_ POLICEMAN _is evincing interest_. LUCHER _is frantically attempting to signal to_ TORLINI _to get rid of the_ POLICEMAN)--to the florist's. The flowers they sent are all wilted. (_The_ POLICEMAN _is watching too closely_--LUCHER _goes over to him, fire in her eye_.) And as for you--I'd be grateful if you'd go straight to the Herr Inspector and tell him that I consider this intrusion by the police an unpardonable outrage! Do you hear that? POLICEMAN Yes--Frau Lucher. I hear. But surely you'll agree that the police must be . . . LUCHER (_shouting_) I'll agree to nothing! I've taken great pains to explain this whole affair to the authorities and they assured me that there would be no interference. POLICEMAN I only know that I have been ordered to look in here, and . . . LUCHER And you've obeyed your orders. (_She opens her hand-bag._) You've seen everything and satisfied yourself that nothing harmful can come of this. It's all ridiculous stupidity, typical of the brainless asses who govern this city. (_She has fished some bills from her hand-bag._) Here, my good man. (_She hands the money to him._) Now run along to the inspector, and present to him my sincerest compliments. (_She pushes him toward the door._) POLICEMAN I will, Frau Lucher! (_He pockets the money._) And if he sends me back, it won't be my fault. LUCHER I know that. Go on. (_She pushes him out, then addresses_ TORLINI, _rapidly, in a furious undertone_.) See that that policeman gets out of the hotel. Then telephone to Dr. Anton Krug's house, and tell Frau Krug that the worst has happened! TORLINI The worst? LUCHER She'll understand. Tell her to get into a car and drive out of Vienna just as fast as she can. TORLINI Yes, Frau Lucher. . . . But what about the florist? LUCHER (_at the top of her lungs_) Great God! Never mind the florist! (_The door at the back opens, and_ RUDOLF _appears wearing his shirt and nothing else_.) RUDOLF Where in hell is that valet? LUCHER Get back in that room! TORLINI (_staring at_ RUDOLF) It is impossible! LUCHER I told you to stay in . . . RUDOLF Is there such a thing as a valet in this brothel? LUCHER Yes, he's coming right up. RUDOLF Thank you, my sweet. (_He pinches her cheek._) TORLINI (_bowing low_) Your Imperial Highness. (RUDOLF _reaches out and lifts_ TORLINI'S _bowed head_.) RUDOLF I do not remember who you are--nevertheless, good evening. (_He bows to_ TORLINI, _then turns and walks back with great dignity, albeit without trousers, into his room_. LUCHER _slams the door behind him_.) LUCHER Now do you know what I meant by the worst? TORLINI (_trembling_) I do. LUCHER Tell her he's here. . . . When he finds out she isn't in this hotel, there'll be an uproar. He'll go after her. He'll break into her house, and have a fight with her husband. If she wants to avoid a nasty scene, she'll have to get herself out of the city, at once. (_The_ COUNT _has come in from the left_. _He is carrying a cocktail glass._ TORLINI _goes_.) COUNT Now let me tell you something, Frau Lucher: I just happened to take a look under the napkin in one of the ice buckets, and what did I see there? Tizane--that's what I saw! Tizane--sparkling dishwater! (LUCHER _has been gathering up the papers from the table and stuffing them back into her hand-bag. She darts one look at the_ COUNT.) LUCHER You're drunk already. COUNT Oh, now, that isn't worthy of you, Lucher. It hasn't been easy for us to come here, you know. If you had the heart to invite us here, I should think you'd have the decency to furnish us with wine that is at least potable. (LUCHER, _however, has gone out at the right_. GISELLA VON KRETT _has come in from the left_). _She was once one of the haughtier beauties of the court. She is now a wasted, embittered governess, clinging grimly to the sense of snobbery which is all that she managed to salvage from the wreckage of the past. She is wearing an evening gown which was fashionable in 1917._ GISELLA Well? Did you tell her we insisted on champagne? COUNT Yes, but she didn't seem to hear me. (GISELLA _sits down at the left_.) GISELLA We should have known that this would happen. She dragged us here solely to humiliate us for the satisfaction of her own vulgarian sense of inferiority. COUNT Ah, well, my dear Gisella--Tizane isn't really so unbearable. I mean to say, after the first three glasses you hardly know what you're drinking. I shall consume the first three glasses rapidly. HOETZLER (_from offstage_) I hurled in the 19th army corps--or was it the 17th? (_He enters from the left with_ SOPHIA KOEPPKE _on his arm_.) . . . And in another twelve hours we'd have smashed the Russian line. (_He sees the_ COUNT.) Franz! COUNT General Hoetzler! (_They bow formally and shake hands. . . . The old_ GENERAL _is still fat but obviously shrunken; he hasn't flesh enough left to fill his skin_. _He wears a uniform coat, which is too large for him by many years, but moths have deprived him of the trousers that go with it and he is forced to wear a pair from his gray civilian suit. . . . In spite of which, he is wilfully hearty, and determined to make this a gay and care-free celebration_. . . . SOPHIA _is a faded blonde, buxom and--unlike the others--too well fed, but still flagrantly girlish_.) HOETZLER This is splendid, old boy. SOPHIA (_who has gone over to_ GISELLA) My darling Gisella! How stunning you look! GISELLA (_without emotion_) Good evening, Sophia. HOETZLER Gisella! Smart, distinguished, entrancing as ever! SOPHIA Now you must all be quiet, because dear General Hoetzler is telling me the most thrilling story about the campaign in 1915. COUNT Oh, yes, indeed--I remember it well. You had the Russians in a tight corner--eh, General? Now do sit down, Sophia. (_She sits down at the right. . . . Offended at this abrupt dismissal of his favorite reminiscence, the_ GENERAL _makes an attempt to continue_.) HOETZLER I was trying to explain to Sophia how curious it was that, at the very moment of complete triumph . . . (_But the_ COUNT _has his back turned_.) COUNT (_to_ SOPHIA) I can't tell you what a delightful privilege it is to see a really stylish woman again. SOPHIA (_giggling shrilly_) Oh, Franz--you're much too gallant. COUNT With provocation, my dear. SOPHIA But Koeppke and I do try to keep up appearances, even in the hopelessly middle-class atmosphere of Switzerland. COUNT As Tatti and I do, in Upper Tooting. But it's an endless struggle. SOPHIA Dreadful! People don't seem to understand the importance of those things any more. There are so many false standards. COUNT That's it! That's precisely it! (_During all this_, HOETZLER _has sat down on the couch beside_ GISELLA, _and is carrying on manfully with his narrative_.) HOETZLER I was just telling Sophia of the time early in 1915 when we had the Russians on the run. We were within _that_ of breaking through the enemy's line; and they had no more than a corporal's guard in reserve. You can readily imagine the consequences. We'd have marched on to Petersburg, crushed the Russian Empire! But at the very moment when my plan of campaign had reached a climax . . . (_By this time the_ COUNT _has said "That's precisely it!" and has been compelled, by the loudness of_ HOETZLER'S _voice, to turn to listen_.) I received a telegram from Prince Max in Berlin telling me to withdraw! Now I ask you, I ask all of you, what was I to do? COUNT Withdraw. HOETZLER Exactly. And the baffling part of it all is that that telegram from Berlin has never been adequately explained. And I can tell you, my dear Gisella . . . COUNTESS (_from offstage_) They're all in here. (_The_ COUNTESS _and_ TALISZ _come in, arm in arm. She is now wearing an evening dress, of her own manufacture, and there is an ostrich plume or so in her hair. . . ._ TALISZ _is very old, somewhat bemused and slightly deaf. He is wearing a frayed swallow-tail coat, lustreless, black satin knee breeches, and black cotton stockings borrowed from his landlady. . . . There are general greetings, all very formal, very courtly._) COUNTESS Gisella! Sophia! Well! SOPHIA Well! GISELLA (_acidly_) The General is telling us about a telegram from Berlin. HOETZLER I was merely explaining that there was a certain faction in Prussia headed by Hindenburg that did not wish Austria to achieve . . . TALISZ (_to_ SOPHIA) And where is Koeppke? I don't see him. Isn't he to be with us? (_The_ COUNTESS _takes his arm and indicates that he has interrupted the_ GENERAL.) HOETZLER (_giving_ TALISZ _an angry look_) There can be no question of doubt that Hindenburg was jealous of the inevitable result of my coup. He knew my victory would destroy the Russian power and Austria would gain the credit for having won the war. TALISZ (_who doesn't quite know what's happening_) Is His Imperial Highness here yet? SOPHIA No. Poffy's out now trying to find out if there's any word of him. TALISZ I beg your pardon? COUNTESS (_distinctly, in his ear_) She said: "Poffy's out now trying to find out if there's any word of him." TALISZ Oh, yes, I knew that. I felt sure he'd come. HOETZLER Hindenburg, of course, was a Prussian of the Prussians--contemptuous of Austria, determined to . . . TALISZ What's the General saying? COUNTESS Something about the war. TALISZ Oh! Too bad. (_He moves away. . . . Nettled by the frequent interruptions_, HOETZLER _makes a supreme attempt to complete his story_.) HOETZLER I knew it at the time, but my obligations as a soldier to our allies compelled me to silence. Hindenburg blocked my plans and then deliberately stole them! Stole them--and used them himself in the Masurian Lakes region! That, my friends, is the true explanation of . . . (POFFY _enters. The_ COUNT, COUNTESS _and_ SOPHIA _rush over to question him_.) SOPHIA Poffy, is there any news? COUNT What about Rudolf? Is he coming? POFFY No. The last train from Salzburg is in, but he wasn't on it. COUNTESS Oh! I can't bear to think they've caught him. (_She is apparently on the verge of tears, her favorite perch._) SOPHIA He must come. He _must!_ POFFY Of course with Rudolf there is always hope. HOETZLER Of course there is hope. Rudolf was always late. Do you remember the time, my dear Gisella, when the Emperor was holding a reception for King Edward VII? GISELLA No. (STRUP _has come in, followed by two_ WAITERS _with trays loaded with glasses of tepid vermouth_.) STRUP (_speaking through_ HOETZLER'S _lines_) Herr Baron, the aperitifs! POFFY By all means proceed with them. STRUP Thank you, Herr Baron. (_The service of the aperitifs proceeds, under Strup's benign supervision, while_ HOETZLER _continues with his reminiscence about the reception for King Edward VII._) HOETZLER (_taking_ GISELLA'S _"No" as cue_) Matters of the utmost importance were at stake, and the Emperor had commanded all the members of the royal family to be most punctual. And of course they all were--with one exception. . . . (_The_ WAITER _offers_ HOETZLER _a drink, which he takes, and then continues:_) With one exception--Rudolf. He was a mere stripling then, but even so, he kept the King of England waiting for two hours while he . . . (_The_ VALET _has come in from the right and gone up to the bedroom door. He knocks._) RUDOLF (_from within_) Come in. HOETZLER Who's in that room? SOPHIA (_archly_) Now--now, General! HOETZLER But if there's anybody spying on us . . . POFFY He'll be bitterly disappointed. Now if you will all be good enough to rise. (_They all rise._ POFFY _turns and lifts his glass to the portrait of Franz Josef_.) To His Imperial Majesty! (_They all drink and then give silent, facial testimony to the low quality of the vermouth. . . . The oppressive silence is broken by the entrance from the left of_ KOEPPKE, _a brisk, obtrusive little man who, like his wife_, SOPHIA, _is too well nourished_.) KOEPPKE (_breezily_) Well, here I am! SOPHIA You're late. KOEPPKE Yes, my love. (_He looks about._) Is the party in full swing? GISELLA It is. POFFY Oh, come--let's go in to dinner. GISELLA I've lost my appetite. That loathsome vermouth . . . POFFY I know, my dear Gisella, you're accustomed to the best in Palermo. As for the rest of us, we have come here to conduct a celebration. It is going to be a difficult task, but I strongly urge that we all smother our justifiable grievances and pretend to be having a very devil of an uproarious carousal. Let us close our eyes to the fact that we all look a bit moth-eaten and concentrate on getting through this with a show of good grace. (_The_ COUNT _starts to sing: "Vilya, oh, Vilya, the witch of the wood."_) GISELLA We're not going to be very uproarious on Tizane. HOETZLER I beg of you, Gisella, be quiet. SOPHIA (_referring to the_ COUNT'S _song_) That's a cheerful selection! GISELLA (_to_ POFFY) If you'd only taken the trouble to let us know what it would be like . . . COUNTESS It wasn't Poffy's fault. KOEPPKE Personally I'm in favor of abandoning the whole thing. (_The_ COUNTESS _has started to weep_. SOPHIA _is trying to calm her. The_ COUNT _is slumped in a chair at the left, still singing "Vilya."_ GISELLA _is seated at the right, regarding the_ COUNTESS _with disgust_. HOETZLER _and_ TALISZ _are behind her_. POFFY _has gone out at the left to beg the musicians for God's sake to play something lively_. KOEPPKE _is hovering over the couch, patronizing the_ COUNTESS. _The following speeches are delivered in a jumble:_) { SOPHIA { { I wish to heaven you'd all listen to Poffy. At least we can pre_tend_ { to be gay and--and jolly. . . . Now, please, Tatti, you won't help { matters at all by crying your eyes out . . . { { HOETZLER { { Perhaps if Lucher would give us some really good beer it might take { effect more quickly. { { TALISZ (_to_ HOETZLER) { { What's everybody saying now? { { KOEPPKE (_to the_ COUNTESS _and_ SOPHIA) { { I'll tell you what. How about the three of us slipping down to the bar { and having a few brandies? Just the three of us. Oh, don't worry--_I_ { can pay for them. I've over a hundred and fifty real marks in my pocket { at this moment! (ELENA _has entered on the cue from_ TALISZ: _"What's everybody saying now?" She comes down from the upper right, so that_ TALISZ _and_ HOETZLER _see her first_.) ELENA Talisz! I did so hope you'd be here. And the dear General. How sweet it is to see you. TALISZ Elena! Elena! (_He kisses her hand._) HOETZLER Elena, is it _you?_ (POFFY _has come back; he sees_ ELENA, _and fairly whoops for joy_.) POFFY Elena! (_The others are now aware of her presence. They cease their chattering, weeping and singing, and form a hilarious, welcoming group about her._) ELENA Tatti! You should have _known_. I couldn't keep away. And Sophia! How charming you look! And Koeppke! I can't be_lieve_ it! Hello, Franz--_you_ knew I'd be here, didn't you! COUNT A good joke on us! A capital joke! Just like you, Elena. Bring some more drinks. Herr Ober! Herr Ober! (_The_ COUNT _rushes out at the left_.) HOETZLER Where's that blackguard gone with the aperitifs? ELENA And here's Gisella. How are you, my darling? You're looking so chic, so exactly like yourself. GISELLA They told me you weren't coming. COUNTESS She wanted to surprise us--to make it all the better. KOEPPKE And that's what she's done. ELENA I changed my mind for no reason except a selfish one. I wanted to see all of you--and hear you laugh and joke. (_A veritable orgy of ad-libbing is interrupted when the_ COUNT _appears in the doorway at the left_.) COUNT (_shouting_) Come in to dinner! They're serving _champagne!_ SOPHIA What? COUNT Cliquot 1911! And caviar! (_The_ COUNT'S _announcement is greeted with cheers_. POFFY'S _request for lively music has been fulfilled by the orchestra offstage. There is a general movement toward the left._) HOETZLER (_offering_ ELENA _his arm_) With your permission, I think I take the precedence. (ELENA _takes the_ GENERAL'S _arm and goes out at the left, followed by_ KOEPPKE _and the_ COUNTESS, POFFY _and_ GISELLA, TALISZ _and_ SOPHIA. _Just as_ ELENA _reaches the door_, LUCHER _enters from the right and rushes across after them shouting:_) LUCHER Frau Krug! Frau Krug! Did you get my message? (_Her voice is lost in the din of laughter, talk and music. . . ._ ELENA _goes out_. LUCHER _is going after her, but she stops when cries for "Help!" are heard from the bedroom at the back. The bedroom door flies open and the_ VALET _hurtles out, propelled by_ RUDOLF, _who is now magnificent in his uniform_. . . . LUCHER _hastily shuts the doors at the left_.) VALET Frau Lucher! He threatened to strangle me! RUDOLF Do you mean to tell me that that stable-boy is dignified with the title of valet? VALET (_terrified_) I was only trying to brush Your Highness's hair. RUDOLF He scratched my ear. (RUDOLF _slaps the_ VALET, _who rushes out at the right_. RUDOLF _starts to fasten on his golden sash_.) LUCHER You're to stay in that room until I tell you it's safe to . . . RUDOLF Is she here? (TORLINI _comes in from the upper left_.) LUCHER (_to_ RUDOLF) I told you she wouldn't come! TORLINI They informed me that she had already left her house, on the way here. . . . RUDOLF (_turning, to_ LUCHER) Ah! Then she has arrived? LUCHER I've warned you that the police are on the watch . . . RUDOLF She's here, isn't she? LUCHER No! (_He tweaks her nose._) Yes! RUDOLF Good! You have acted with unexpected competence. Bring her to me. LUCHER But they have just sat down to supper. You should join them. RUDOLF Bring her here! And champagne with her. I shall not be hungry for another forty-three minutes. (_He crosses to the right to examine himself in the mirror._) LUCHER (_to_ TORLINI) Request Frau Krug to come here for a moment. (TORLINI _goes out at the left_.) RUDOLF Frau Krug? LUCHER That is her name! (RUDOLF _turns again to the mirror, with an expression of disgust_.) You'd better be careful how you talk to her. RUDOLF You may now depart, Lucher. LUCHER She isn't the same one you used to make free with. Her husband is a very fine man--a big man, too, and . . . (RUDOLF _steps up on a chair, the better to see the reflection of his sash in the mirror_.) RUDOLF I shall want some champagne--and also more cognac . . . LUCHER I tell you--you'd better not try any of your old tricks on her. She's different. (_The doors at the left are opened._ ELENA _appears, looking backward_.) COUNTESS (_from offstage_) But, my little angel, you're not going? ELENA No, no, Tatti, don't you worry, I'll be right back. COUNT Immediately---- ELENA Yes, immediately. (_She turns and sees_ RUDOLF _on the chair, his back to her_.) RUDOLF And one other thing: the towels in my bathroom are soggy. Have them changed. . . . Get out, Lucher! (LUCHER _darts one glance of commiseration at_ ELENA, _folds her hands over her protuberant stomach, and goes out at the right_. ELENA _stares at_ RUDOLF'S _back. He gazes at her image in the mirror. . . . After a few moments, he steps down from the chair, turns and confronts her. . . . The doors at the left have been closed, but the strains of a waltz are faintly audible. . . ._ RUDOLF _starts toward her, pauses, then walks around her_. ELENA _does not move, but her eyes follow him. . . . He is behind her. He reaches out to touch her, but doesn't touch her. He walks around, in front of her, stares at her, then slaps her face. He seizes her in his arms and kisses her, fiercely. . . . A_ WAITER _has come from the right with a bottle of cognac and glasses, followed by a_ BUS-BOY _with an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. They deposit these at the right, gaping at_ RUDOLF _and_ ELENA _as they do so_.) RUDOLF How long has it been since you were kissed like that? Ten years? More than ten years! Think of it! (_The_ WAITER _makes a slight clatter as he arranges the glasses on the table_. . . . RUDOLF, _still holding_ ELENA _tightly, motions behind his back to the_ WAITER _to get out. He does so, followed by the_ BUS-BOY. RUDOLF _kisses_ ELENA _more gently_.) Come--we'll have a drink! (_He steps aside, motions her to the table. She crosses slowly and sits down. He goes behind the table and fills each of the glasses with equal quantities of brandy and champagne._) ELENA You know--I realize now how completely I had forgotten you. RUDOLF Yes--it's too bad. We're not equipped with the power to recall sensations. One of our Creator's more serious mistakes. . . . However--to-night we will both refresh our memories. (_He raises his glass, toasting her, then drains it. She raises her glass, slightly, then places it on the table, untouched._) That's a very graceful tribute, Elena. I'm referring to the necklace. But--good God! That wedding ring! (_He laughs boisterously and seizes her hand for closer inspection of the ring._) ELENA That's nothing to laugh at. (_She is trying to pull her hand away, but he has a tight grip on her wrist._) RUDOLF Of all the bourgeois adornments! On you, it is a gross anachronism. Like a brassiere on the Venus de Milo. It offends me. We must remove it. (_He snatches the ring from her finger._) ELENA Give it _back_ to me! RUDOLF I told you it offends me. ELENA (_struggling_) Are you going to give me back my ring? RUDOLF Yes, my darling--I'll give it back, cheerfully, in the morning. But in the meantime--well--surely, you can understand my point. That heavy gold band on your finger would strike a discordant note. ELENA I'm not planning to be in communication with you to-morrow morning. I want it now! (_She snatches for it._) RUDOLF (_pocketing the ring_) I must ask you to be careful, Elena. Refrain from irritating me. You will recall that the members of my family are subject to epileptic rages--sheer exuberance, you know--which invariably result in one form or another of physical violence. . . . I should not care to send you back to your husband with your lovely nose broken, and minus one or two conspicuous teeth. . . . ELENA (_staring at him_) It can't be true! RUDOLF On the contrary, I can assure you that one more allusion to that detestable ring will prove that it _is_ true. . . . ELENA I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking of what ten years have failed to do to you. RUDOLF I chose to remain as I was. ELENA Ten years of exile, and humiliation, and poverty, haven't shaken in you the conviction that Franz Josef is still reigning in Schönbrunn. RUDOLF No--I admit that I have occasional qualms. There are moments when I suspect that the Habsburgs are not what they once were. But when I see you, my eternally beloved, and realize that you have had the pride to preserve your figure against the day of my return--then I know that there has been no revolution. (_He has sat down on the table, and is leaning over her, his face increasingly close to hers._) ELENA Don't come near me. RUDOLF You don't wish to be kissed? ELENA I do not! RUDOLF Very well--if you feel that you need the inspiration of a little more champagne, you shall have it. . . . (_He goes to pour out another glass for her, but finds that she has had none. He empties her glass into the ice bucket, and refills it. He then hands it to her. She places it on the table. He pours out more for himself._) ELENA (_rising_) We must go in there and join the others. RUDOLF (_pouring_) We must do nothing of the kind. ELENA I came here to-night to be with them . . . RUDOLF Whereas I came here to be with you. Those pitiful relics are of no interest whatever to me. . . . Come now--drink! ELENA I'm going in there. (_He steps in front of her._) RUDOLF No, you're not. ELENA Get out of my way. (_He laughs and gulps some more champagne, but does not budge. She softens her tone to one of persuasion._) Oh, Rudolf--I'll tell them you're here. It's all that's needed to send the poor things into a complete state of delirium. Think of the excitement when they see you looking as young as ever, and as handsome, in your lovely uniform, with all the medals. Think how pleased _he'd_ be (_pointing to the portrait_) if he knew that a Habsburg was again holding court in Vienna. RUDOLF (_with a glance at the portrait_) Very well--I'll show myself to them--for his sake. (_He kisses her lightly on the forehead, then crosses to the left and tries the door. It is locked. He turns to_ ELENA, _delighted_.) Lucher's had us locked in--the tactful old bawd. (_He pounds on the door. It is opened. The guests at the banquet offstage are making a great deal of noise, indicative of well-bred hilarity._ _The voice of_ STRUP _is heard to call out: "His Imperial Highness!"_ RUDOLF _stands in the doorway. The shouts and murmurs stop as each of the guests sees him._ BREDZI'S _little orchestra strikes up the old national anthem_. RUDOLF _turns and glances at_ ELENA. _She points to the portrait of the late Emperor, and he goes up and takes a position beneath it._ POFFY _comes in and bows low. The others follow him, the ladies going up to him to kiss his hand._ RUDOLF _greets each of them by name. He is impassive, regal, mildly disdainful--just as they want him to be. The_ COUNTESS _begins to sob_.) RUDOLF That is enough--enough! (_He waves them out._) I may join you later in the evening. (_They all back out. From offstage, the_ COUNT _is heard to shout: "To His Imperial Highness."_ ELENA _lifts her untouched glass of champagne and sips_. _There are sounds of shattered glasses from the left. The doors are closed, subduing the uproar of cheers._) RUDOLF Why are they all so old? (_He gazes toward the left, despondently, then suddenly decides to give this depressing matter not another thought._ _He turns to_ ELENA.) Well? Have I or have I not done my duty? (_He comes down to the table._) Sit down, if you please. (_She sits down at the right of the table. He leans over and kisses her hair._) Now! I suggest that we discuss briefly your husband, before we pass on to more mutually agreeable subjects. . . . Do you love him? ELENA Very much. RUDOLF I have no objection to that. . . . He's a doctor, isn't he? ELENA A psychoanalyst. RUDOLF Ah! A practitioner of Vienna's sole remaining industry. . . . I've been told he's quite brilliant. Written a book, hasn't he? ELENA Yes--eight volumes. RUDOLF I must meet him and let him study me. He could derive enough material for eight volumes more. ELENA He knows all about you already. RUDOLF Ah--you've told him! ELENA Yes. You'll find your type analyzed in one of his books under the heading, "Elephantiasis of the Ego." RUDOLF I doubt that I'd be interested. (_He sits down at the left of the table._) Have you any children? ELENA No. RUDOLF I extend my condolences. (_He lifts his glass as in a toast. She bows slightly in acknowledgment._) These purely intellectual husbands are not very productive, are they? ELENA It isn't his fault that there are no children. It's my fault. . . . Are there any more questions? RUDOLF Let me see . . . No--I think there aren't. We can dismiss the dreary topic of your domestic life--and press on to consideration of my own. But I suppose you know all about it. ELENA No, Rudolf. I have not followed your later career very closely. RUDOLF No? ELENA No. How have you supported yourself? RUDOLF In various ways. Now and then a good run at baccarat. One or two engagements in the cinema studios--did you see me in "The Shattered Idol"? ELENA No, I missed that, deliberately. RUDOLF You did well. As it turned out, I was virtually invisible. Then I conceived a great scheme for mulcting American tourists, but the authorities got wind of it, and took over the idea themselves. There have been other occupations. ELENA Some one told me you've been running a taxi. RUDOLF Merely an amusing whim. I've only driven people I know. ELENA And if you don't know them when you start the drive, you do before it's finished. RUDOLF (_laughing_) You've evidently been listening to gossip. ELENA Yes. I've heard how charming you are to your fares. You must have collected many delightful friends that way. RUDOLF (_wistfully_) Friends? You can hardly call them that. ELENA No--I suppose not. RUDOLF As a matter of fact, Elena, Nice is a bore. I have been very lonely. ELENA I've been waiting for you to say that. RUDOLF You have no sympathy for me? ELENA No. RUDOLF Your heart wasn't always cold. ELENA You have never been lonely--never deserved one atom of sympathy, from any one. RUDOLF You don't understand me. No one has ever understood me. It's because I'm inscrutable. ELENA Perhaps. But I remain unimpressed by your appeal for pity. RUDOLF _Pity!_ Have you the effrontery to suggest that I want you to pity me? ELENA Yes! RUDOLF I see. . . . Then I shall abandon that tack. (_He laughs._) Elena--it has always seemed miraculous to me that any one could be as intelligent as you are and still alluring. And you _are_ alluring! ELENA (_bowing_) You're overwhelmingly kind. RUDOLF Oh--that wasn't intended as a tribute to you. It's a tribute to my own flawless taste. ELENA Ah! I see. RUDOLF I'm proud to think that it was I who first realized you, for the sight of you now assures me that, by God, I was right. . . . You're so beautiful, Elena. You delight me! You refresh me--and I am speaking nothing less than the truth when I tell you that refreshment is what I most urgently need. ELENA What tack are you off on now? RUDOLF None. I am driving straight to the point. . . . My room is in there. ELENA How convenient! RUDOLF Yes. It's a room that we have occupied before. ELENA I suppose we've occupied all of them. RUDOLF We have, indeed, my darling. We have made history in this hotel. Come--let us make some more. ELENA (_pause_) Rudolf . . . RUDOLF Yes? ELENA I think it's time for me to announce that I'm not going to bed with you. RUDOLF (_after a while_) Very well. (_He stands up, as though accepting her rejection, and walks away. Drink in hand, he turns and looks at her._) I can wait (_he sips the drink_) . . . a few minutes. (_He looks toward the left._) Who's playing in there? ELENA Bredzi. RUDOLF (_pleased_) Bredzi! (_He goes to the left and calls "Bredzi! Bredzi!" The doors are opened and_ BREDZI _comes in, with his violin_. _He is in a fever of excitement, and knows precisely what is expected of him._ _Following him is_ JANSEI, _an accordion player, similarly thrilled by this summons_.) A waltz! (_With appropriate flourishes, they start to play "Viennese Beauties."_ RUDOLF _turns and crosses to the table where_ ELENA _is sitting. The musicians follow him, playing as they go._ RUDOLF _bows before_ ELENA. _Laughing, she rises and curtseys, and then they start to waltz around the room. The tempo is sprightly, exuberant. . . ._ RUDOLF _manages to manoeuvre_ ELENA _to the bedroom door. He kicks it open and they waltz into the room and disappear. The musicians whisper to each other happily--for this is just as it should be. . . . However, after a moment_, ELENA _comes out alone, laughing_. RUDOLF _follows. She sits on the couch._) You know--I'm being admirably patient with you. ELENA (_still laughing_) Yes, Rudolf--I know. RUDOLF Because I understand you, too well. I can read your thoughts. ELENA No! RUDOLF I can see that as a result of your purely spiritual marriage you have developed a certain reluctance, which it is for me to overcome. Very well! I accept the challenge confidently! (_He has a drink of champagne, then turns to_ BREDZI.) Play something more--more. . . . (BREDZI _understands, and obliges with a palpitantly passionate selection_. _For a moment_ RUDOLF _stands, silently regarding_ ELENA.) Does that remind you of anything? ELENA Yes. RUDOLF What? ELENA Ischl! (RUDOLF _crosses to the couch and lies down beside her_. _Knowing all the moves in this game_, BREDZI _goes close to_ ELENA _and plays softly, persuasively_.) RUDOLF Ischl! Do you remember one night when it was too warm to stay indoors? ELENA Yes, we went out into the forest, and you took along an entire symphony orchestra to accompany us. RUDOLF I always adored music. ELENA And you had all the musicians blindfolded. The poor things. They couldn't play in harmony because they couldn't see. RUDOLF It was dreadful! ELENA And you cursed the leader horribly--and beat him with your cane. RUDOLF And when you tried to stop me, I knocked you down. ELENA Then you dismissed the orchestra--and we went on with our romance. RUDOLF Oh God, what beautiful times! (ELENA _is now lying back on the couch, languorously_. RUDOLF _kisses the hollow of her throat. Then it occurs to him to kiss her ankle._ BREDZI _feels that it is time to shift the tune. . . . Raising up on his elbow_, RUDOLF _suddenly signals the musicians to be quiet_.) Do you imagine that I need any artificial stimulation from you. Get out! (_They hurry out at the left, closing the door after them._ RUDOLF _stands up_.) It's no use bantering this way and that about it, Elena. I know now if I didn't know before that I have never loved any woman as I love you. When I see you I know that I've never loved any one else at all. You were, you are and ever will be the one passion of my life. . . . Now! Glow with justifiable pride. ELENA I am glowing. . . . What other women have you known since then? RUDOLF Plenty. All kinds. ELENA All colors? RUDOLF All shades. There have been French women, English women, Americans. I've had a few tempting offers of marriage, but . . . Then there have been Russians, Moroccans, Siamese . . . ELENA Twins? RUDOLF No, unfortunately. But I can swear to you, Elena, that all of them were no more than incidents. Whatever enjoyment I've had from them--and I'll be generous and admit that there has been some enjoyment--has been vicarious. Every quivering one of them has been no more than a proxy for you. Ah, Elena--if you could know how I've clung to you, how I've cherished you. Memory has been kind to me, my darling. It has kept you with me, through all the nights and days. (_He is again on the couch, at her side. She jumps to her feet, walks quickly away. There is a nervous irritability in her voice._) ELENA It has been otherwise with me! RUDOLF What do you mean? ELENA Memory has been kinder to me. It has discreetly withdrawn . . . RUDOLF Behind the curtains of your imagination--but it is still there, alive and warm, aching to emerge. ELENA No, it is dead! RUDOLF I refuse to accept that, sight unseen. ELENA I have looked behind the curtains and seen it. It is decayed and loathsome. RUDOLF You're talking nonsense from your husband's books. ELENA I'm talking truth--bitter truth, for you, perhaps. RUDOLF I don't believe it. ELENA Because you will not face the one important fact. RUDOLF Which is what? ELENA I am happy with my husband. (_He laughs._) I love him! RUDOLF You will notice that I am laughing. ELENA And you may notice that I am not going to bed with you. RUDOLF Elena! Will you tell me that never once while you've been enduring the physical intimacies of this great thinker, never once have you shut your eyes and assured yourself, "It's Rudolf Maximillian." ELENA Not in years have I thought of that. RUDOLF But there were times at first, weren't there? Many times? ELENA There may have been. RUDOLF I thought so--and they became less frequent as the years went by--not because you were learning to be happy with him, but because you were learning to be resigned. You see--I know something about your psychology, too. Now, come--we've had enough of debate. It's time for a little emotion. We'll see if we've forgotten what life tastes like. ELENA (_indicating the door at the left_) I'm going back in there. RUDOLF You are not! (_He seizes her wrist and pulls her against him, then holds her tightly in his arms._) You are now expected to shriek. ELENA I shall not shriek. RUDOLF Forgive me. I had forgotten that you are not the shrieking kind. That was always one of your most engaging qualities, Elena. You invariably knew when you were beaten. (_He kisses her several times, on her eyes, ears, nose and throat. She offers no apparent resistance and no response._) Ah, Elena, my only darling--it isn't easy for you to yield, is it? You keep on thinking of that wedding ring in my pocket. You're loyal to him, because you have the courage to be decent. You were always loyal, always brave. But with me, it isn't as it would be with any one else. Can't you see that? I loved you first. And you loved me. You weren't lying when you said you loved me. You never knew how to lie. And I'm only asking you to love me again, for a little while, reminiscently, not as a rival of your husband, but as the echo of a voice that enchanted you when you were innocent and impressionable and young. You can't tell me that those things have changed. I can see that they haven't. You have not grown old. The warmth is still in you. You can still make me adore you, and I can still make you love me! (_He sits down on the couch, still holding her tightly as she stands before him._) Why not admit it, Elena? Why maintain that formidable rigidity, as though you were a pure-minded school girl in the clutches of an avid gorilla? Relax, my darling. Let yourself go. (_She has begun to laugh._) Have I happened to say something witty? (ELENA _continues to laugh_.) There is something in the quality of that laughter which suggests that I'm wasting my time wooing you. ELENA You told me to let myself go! RUDOLF I did, but it was not intended as a pleasantry. (_He is seated on the couch. She is standing over him. Suddenly, she seizes his face and kisses him as ferociously as he had kissed her._) Great God, Elena, I didn't expect . . . ELENA (_passionately_) No, you didn't expect me to take your advice so quickly. (_She slaps his face._) Did you? You thought I'd keep up the pretense of frigidity forever, didn't you? (_She kisses him again. As she does so, he pulls her down on to the couch. She rolls over him._) Am I frozen now? RUDOLF No, there's been an unaccountable thaw. (_She kisses him again._) ELENA Am I restraining myself now? Am I being subdued, repressed, coldly unresponsive? Am I? (_She slaps him again._) RUDOLF No! But for God's sake, Elena--there is such a thing as going too far. ELENA No, there isn't. Let's open the doors. RUDOLF No. ELENA Yes! I want them to see that I haven't changed, that there are some things that can never change. (_She goes to the doors, flings them open, and shouts "Come on--come on!"_ POFFY, GISELLA _and the rest come in, laughing, shouting_. BREDZI _and_ JANSEI _are with them, playing "The Merry Widow" waltz_.) RUDOLF (_through the happy din_) Look at her! Look at her! She has been hitting me--hitting me with all the old strength! Show them how you did it, my darling! (_She slaps him again. He kisses her gratefully. Then he picks her up in his arms and waltzes her into the bedroom_. . . . KOEPPKE _rushes after them and smirkingly closes the door. The others cheer lustily and wave their champagne glasses._) TALISZ I give them both happiness! SOPHIA Happiness--and love! POFFY May the night last forever! (_He is standing on the sofa, singing, while_ BREDZI _plays softly_. _The_ COUNTESS _crosses to the_ COUNT, _who kisses her_.) COUNTESS This is the most enchanting moment of my life. (HOETZLER _bows to_ GISELLA, _who curtsies, and they begin to waltz_. SOPHIA _goes to the couch_.) SOPHIA (_transported_) It is the same Vienna--the same exquisite Vienna. . . . COUNT Just as it always was! Nothing has changed. COUNTESS I don't care if I die to-morrow. I really don't care at all. (LUCHER _bustles in, terribly perturbed_.) LUCHER (_to_ HOETZLER) Hush! Where has he gone? (_Waltzing with_ GISELLA, _the_ GENERAL _ignores_ LUCHER, _who dashes to the left and shouts at_ KOEPPKE.) Where is he? KOEPPKE We don't wish to be disturbed now. TALISZ What is she saying? LUCHER (_thundering_) Bredzi! Stop! (_The music stops._ POFFY, _still standing on the couch and singing, turns to_ LUCHER.) POFFY (_sublimely unworried_) Is there anything the matter? LUCHER Herr Povoromo! Get down off that brocade! (POFFY _descends. They all laugh._) The police are here! They've heard this racket and one of the bottles you threw hit somebody in the street. (_Gleeful cheers hail this gratifying news._) KOEPPKE (_archly_) They'll hear no uproar from the arch-ducal chamber. LUCHER Where has he gone? And Frau Krug? What's he done with her? SOPHIA We haven't the faintest idea. (_They all laugh._) COUNT Resume the music, Bredzi. (_The general, mildly intoxicated laughter is interrupted by the sound of sharp knocking from within the bedroom._) HOETZLER What is that? RUDOLF (_offstage_) Elena! Elena! (_More pounding is heard._ LUCHER _starts up to the door_. HOETZLER, SOPHIA, KOEPPKE _and_ GISELLA _stop her_.) LUCHER Have you all gone crazy? The police will get him! SOPHIA Ssh! (RUDOLF _bursts out of the room, rushes to the right. Through the opened door, on the bed, is_ ELENA'S _white dress_.) RUDOLF Elena! Elena! (_He goes out at the right, then returns._) Where is she? Why do you all stand there, frozen? Go after her. Find her. (HOETZLER, SOPHIA, _the_ COUNT, TALISZ _and_ KOEPPKE _go off babbling "We'll find her. We'll bring her back," etc._) I never should have trusted her to go into that bathroom alone. COUNTESS (_frightened_) How did she get out? Did she jump out of the window? RUDOLF No. She went through another door. I wouldn't have trusted her if it hadn't been for the affectionate way she hit me. Elena! (_He is still pacing about frantically, from door to door._ SOPHIA _comes in again_.) SOPHIA She's left the hotel! COUNTESS She ought to be ashamed of herself. LUCHER She's gone home! RUDOLF Home? And where is that? Where does she live? LUCHER You've got to stay here. RUDOLF Why? LUCHER The police. POFFY They're in the hotel now. RUDOLF Get my cap. LUCHER I tell you she's gone back to her husband. RUDOLF That psychoanalyst? So much the better. Get my cap! (_He propels_ LUCHER _toward the bedroom_.) Now which one of you verminous objects is going to tell me where she lives? GISELLA I don't know where she lives. RUDOLF (_to the_ COUNTESS) Do you know? COUNTESS (_timorously_) Poffy can tell you. Poffy knows. RUDOLF (_to_ POFFY) You will escort me there. POFFY If you set foot out of this hotel you're insane. RUDOLF You're still threatening me with the police? POFFY They'll recognize you, Your Highness. . . . SOPHIA Oh, we _beg_ of Your Highness . . . RUDOLF Any member of the Vienna police force who lays a hand on me will find himself at the bottom of the canal. (LUCHER _has returned with the Tyrolean hat_.) LUCHER Here! RUDOLF No! My military cap! LUCHER That uniform is no longer worn in Vienna. RUDOLF I don't give ten thousand damns what's worn . . . LUCHER (_screaming at him_) They'll shoot you. They'll jump at the chance to finish you. RUDOLF (_calmly_) Very well. . . . Very well. (_He has put on the hat, and a cape which_ POFFY _has brought for him_.) LUCHER She doesn't want you any more. RUDOLF Oh, yes, she does. She's leading me on. She wants the thrill of the chase. Well--she shall have it! (_He crosses to the right and picks up the brandy bottle from the table._) And if the accommodations at her house are inadequate I'll bring her back here. So see to it that this party is still going on when I return, whether it's to-morrow--or the next day--or whenever. Come on, Poffy. (_He has gone out, followed by_ POFFY.) COUNTESS (_thrilled_) He'll do it! He'll do it! GISELLA Nothing will stop him! SOPHIA He'll bring her back, and the party will go on forever! LUCHER You fools! You fools! Don't you see what will happen? They'll catch him. They'll kill him. To-morrow there'll be another Habsburg burning in hell. (POFFY _comes in quickly_.) POFFY Frau Lucher! LUCHER (_gasping_) Have they got him? POFFY No. . . . His Imperial Highness presents his compliments and wishes you to advance him a few schillings for his taxi-fare. (LUCHER _is muttering a series of unprintable imprecations as she digs into her capacious hand-bag_.) CURTAIN ACT III _Again the living room in the_ KRUG _home_. _The time is directly after the end of Act II._ _There are spots of light about the room, but the surrounding shadows are deep. In one of the areas of shadow_ ANTON _is seated, listening to the radio, though not relaxed. He continually looks toward the window--toward the door. After a moment, he rises and crosses to the window, parts the curtains, and peers out._ ELENA _comes in, breathless and agitated_. RUDOLF'S _cape is about her, clutched tightly, masking the absence of her white dress. . . . She hurries past_ ANTON _and turns off the radio_. ANTON (_turning from the window_) Well, how was it? ELENA Just about as I expected. ANTON Amusing? ELENA No. ANTON No excitement? ELENA None. ANTON You didn't stay there very long. ELENA Didn't I? (_She is going toward her room._) ANTON (_gently_) It was evidently a bit upsetting. ELENA It was nothing of the kind. ANTON I don't like to question you, Elena, but I'm rather afraid that . . . ELENA (_with uncharacteristic petulance_) You like nothing better than to question me. (_She is at the back. He is still by the window at the right._) ANTON You know that's not so. ELENA Oh--not usually. But to-night . . . why did you ask me to go? Why? ANTON I thought you might have a good time. ELENA You were wrong. You know, Anton, your prescriptions are not infallible. . . . But--let's not talk about it now. I'm tired. (_Old_ KRUG _has come in from the upper left. He is in his bath-robe, night-shirt and slippers_.) KRUG Ah! So you're back. I _thought_ I heard you come in. Well, how was the party? Did anything interesting happen? Tell us all about it. ANTON She's going to bed. KRUG Who all was there? Any famous people? (ELENA _has gone up to the door of her room_.) And what--where's your _dress?_ ELENA Good night, father. Good night, Anton. (_She goes into her room._) KRUG Hmm! Well, what do you make of it? (ANTON _crosses to the left, lights a cigarette, nervously_. KRUG _comes down slowly_.) Didn't you notice anything about the way she said good night? No kisses, nor sweet dreams, nor any affection. And that costume! She was wearing a dress when she left here, wasn't she? There's something the matter. Didn't you notice it? ANTON (_sharply_) No! KRUG Well, if you didn't I _did!_ And I don't set myself up as a great mind-reader, like you. . . . I could see that something happened there at Lucher's . . . ANTON She's tired, that's all. KRUG Yes--but _why_ is she tired? That's what we ought to know. And what happened to her dress? That's what we ought to find out. You ought to ask a few questions about this . . . (_The insistent ringing of the night bell is heard._) ANTON There's nothing to find out. KRUG There's the night bell. ANTON I can hear it. KRUG What do you suppose it is? ANTON I haven't the faintest idea. (_From the right can be heard peremptory pounding on the front door and loud shouts._ ANTON _crosses to the right and goes out_.) KRUG But listen. . . . That sounds like trouble . . . RUDOLF (_offstage_) You needn't announce me . . . KATHIE (_shrieking, offstage_) Oh! Herr Professor! It's a madman. KRUG (_excited_) You'd better get out your pistol, Anton. It's another one of your patients gone insane. KATHIE (_offstage_) A maniac! His keeper is with him but he won't listen. . . . He forced his way in. I couldn't stop him. POFFY (_offstage_) I'm sorry, Herr Professor. If there had been any conceivable way of avoiding this . . . RUDOLF A thousand pardons for the disturbance, but this dutiful handmaiden seemed to feel that I should be denied admittance. (_By now_, RUDOLF _has entered, followed by_ POFFY, ANTON _and_ KATHIE. RUDOLF _is still carrying the bottle of brandy, as a weapon. He addresses_ KRUG.) Are you the doctor? KRUG Yes! No! RUDOLF No? KRUG No! He is. (_He points to_ ANTON. RUDOLF _turns and confronts the husband of_ ELENA.) And I am his father . . . RUDOLF Ah! So you are the Herr Professor Doctor! I am frankly surprised. My imagination had adorned you with a gray beard, a long one. (_He bows._) How do you do? ANTON Who are you? RUDOLF Eh? You are asking me who . . .? KRUG I can tell you who he is . . . RUDOLF He doesn't know who I am, Poffy. Come--step up! Present me. POFFY Professor Krug--this is the former Archduke Rudolf Maximillian. RUDOLF The former! One would think I had already joined my ancestors in their eternal empire. KRUG Oh! No! RUDOLF However, my dear doctor, you will readily observe that such is not the case. I am here, in your charming home, and I wish to see your wife. ANTON My wife has gone to bed. RUDOLF She will wish to be aroused. (ANTON _regards_ RUDOLF _for a moment, then crosses in front of him and addresses_ KRUG.) ANTON Go to bed, father. KRUG _Me?_ ANTON (_motioning him off_) Yes! Do as you're told. (_In a state of extreme disgruntlement, old_ KRUG _turns and ambles slowly up toward the steps_. RUDOLF _removes his hat_.) RUDOLF (_to_ POFFY) And you're no longer needed, Poffy. Go back to Lucher's and see that they carry on. POFFY You had better come with me. RUDOLF I may be detained a little longer than I had expected. POFFY I'll be at the hotel on call. (POFFY _goes out at the right_. KRUG _is now at the door of_ ELENA'S _room_.) KRUG (_calling through the door_) Elena, the Archduke Rudolf Maximillian von Habsburg is calling on us and they're sending me to bed. (KRUG _goes on out at the upper left_. . . . ANTON _confronts_ RUDOLF, _who holds the brandy bottle at the alert_. . . . _After a moment_, ANTON _smiles and advances toward_ RUDOLF.) ANTON I--I wish I could tell you how glad I am to see you. RUDOLF (_startled_) You're _glad_--to see _me?_ ANTON I should think you could imagine why. You've been something of a presence in my home, for a long time, ever since Elena and I were married. Not an entirely agreeable presence, I might add. (_He laughs._) But one that we could never quite get rid of. At times, you've stalked about this house as if you owned it. RUDOLF (_pleased_) I _have?_ ANTON I naturally resented it, a little. But now that I have the chance to see you, and talk to you, I can feel much more friendly toward that presence. RUDOLF (_bewildered_) Well! I've known husbands in my time--but you're the first one who ever granted me a kind word. . . . (_He steps forward. They bow and shake hands._) I'm glad to see you, too, Herr Professor. Your vast reputation has not done you justice. ANTON A remarkably graceful compliment! RUDOLF Of course, I've known you through your books. Oh, yes! I've studied them, carefully. ANTON All eight volumes? RUDOLF You don't believe me, do you? Very well--cross-examine me! ANTON No, no. I don't like cross-examinations. I'm only too eager to take your word for it. RUDOLF It's very fortunate that you are. Otherwise I should have been proved a liar. (_He puts his hand affectionately on_ ANTON'S _shoulder_. _They both laugh. . . ._ ELENA _comes in, now wearing a negligee_.) But I'm going to read them. I know now that they're good. (_He sees_ ELENA.) Elena, we're friends! (ELENA, _on the landing, looks from_ RUDOLF _to_ ANTON.) ELENA Are you? ANTON Of course we are. We see eye to eye on the most important subject. RUDOLF As a matter of fact, we're an incredibly happy combination. Your husband represents the sublimity of the intellectual, and I the quintessence of the emotional. You know--between us, just about there--(_he points to a spot on the carpet_)--there ought to be found the perfect man! (ANTON _laughs_. ELENA _comes down, goes over to the left, beside_ ANTON.) ANTON Please go on talking. RUDOLF Gladly! I have a great deal of interest to say. (_He sits down in a chair in the centre._) ELENA I hope you'll cut it short, Rudolf. Not that I'm unmindful of the great distinction conferred on our house by your presence here--but I'm sleepy. We're sleepy. RUDOLF I am still confident of my ability to keep you awake. But my words are not for you, my darling. They are for our mutual friend, your husband. ANTON I am anxious to hear them. RUDOLF I'm sure you are. And I'm equally sure that you'll be sympathetic. You're a brilliant psychologist--but more than that, you're a Viennese. You will know what I mean. . . . (ANTON _bows_.) But here--I seem to be the only one who's seated. Won't you please sit down? ANTON No--if you don't mind . . . (ELENA _sits down on the edge of the couch_.) RUDOLF (_settling back in the chair_) No, I don't mind. . . . Well--to begin at the beginning--always a suitable starting point: Herr Professor--I have been making advances to your wife. I am here now to continue them until the desired objective has been reached. Am I making myself clear? ANTON Perfectly clear. ELENA So far. RUDOLF Good! You are obviously a man of superior perception. You will not fail to see the validity of my claim. Fifteen years ago I became intimate with Elena. And when I say that I became intimate with her, I hope you will understand that I . . . ANTON I am familiar with the preface. You may skip it. RUDOLF No, no. I decline to do so. Indeed, I wish to dwell on it. She was then a maiden, exquisitely frail, standing hesitantly upon the threshold of infinite potentiality, if you will forgive my eloquence. Ah--she was lovely, Herr Professor. You would have adored her. ANTON I'm sure of it. RUDOLF As for myself, I was then, as now, a rank idealist--and when I first looked upon her, and felt the touch of her hand and saw the virginal invitation that was in her eyes, I vowed to myself, "This is the ultimate!" So I made her my mistress. For four beautiful years, I was devotedly . . . ELENA It was hardly more than two. RUDOLF Don't interrupt! ELENA Don't exaggerate! RUDOLF (_rising, enraged_) If I'm to be interrupted . . .! ELENA Don't _exaggerate!_ RUDOLF I do so only because of a desire to flatter you. (_He turns apologetically to_ ANTON.) Permit me to continue: our idyllic romance was terminated by the revolution. Austria was compelled to give up most of her treasured provinces and possessions, including my family. (_He sits down again._) We were at Lucher's together when the summons came. I promised her I'd return immediately--but I didn't return. I never even had a chance to say good-bye to her. (_He has said this almost to himself. He turns now to_ ANTON.) We were denied the privilege of parting as most lovers do, with the customary romantic heroism--hypocritical self-sacrifice. We were wrenched apart. (_He indicates the arbitrary separation with a gesture of his clenched fists._) Surely, Herr Doctor, you can see the significance of that wrench. ANTON I've seen a great deal of it. RUDOLF (_resuming_) The pretense of adjustment had to be made. In my exile I concluded that I should never see my darling again and I made every effort to reconcile myself to that dismal realization. The effort was not completely successful. For ten years I have felt the lack of her. So I decided to return to Vienna, and have one more look at her, and let my youthful illusions be shattered once and for all. ANTON That was a highly intelligent decision--wasn't it, Elena? ELENA I'm not quite certain. RUDOLF Oh, it was, in theory. For I assumed that she would have become a commonplace, obese, bourgeois housewife. ANTON She has resisted the influences surrounding her. RUDOLF She has, indeed, and I've been grievously disappointed. I find that my acute want of her was no illusion. It remains a fact. (_He rises._) A fact! (_He crosses and stands behind the couch._) Which we all must face. ELENA Yes, Anton. RUDOLF Perhaps you don't believe that it is a fact. Elena didn't at first. I told her something this evening--something that I'd have confessed to no other woman. I told her that all the enjoyment I've had has been vicarious. I, too, have been conscious of a presence. Elena has been in attendance at all the sordid little romances I have ever known. (_Turning to_ ELENA.) Oh, my dear, you'd be horrified if you knew how many fantastic shapes you have assumed. (_To_ ANTON.) That sounds a bit disgusting, doesn't it? ANTON Nothing is disgusting that is said with such artless sincerity. RUDOLF (_to_ ELENA) He's charming--charming! (_To_ ANTON.) I knew you were qualified to deal with this situation, Herr Doctor. You see, Elena told me: you've written a whole book about me. ANTON What? ELENA I told him nothing of the kind. RUDOLF You did. You distinctly said he'd analyzed me . . . ELENA (_cutting in_) I did not. I said he'd written about that much, explaining your type. (_She indicates about two inches between her thumb and forefinger._) RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON) Evidently you can say volumes in a few words. Ah, Herr Doctor--it's enlightening to confront any one like you, who can view things impersonally, and with none of the usual moralistic indignation. You're a scientist--thank God--and I beg of you to consider me as your patient. Analyze me. Subject me to the treatment that you know I need. ANTON I'm afraid that's impossible, my friend. ELENA (_to_ RUDOLF) That's absurd. It takes a long time to complete a treatment. RUDOLF So much the better. I don't mind remaining in Vienna indefinitely. But now is the time to begin, Herr Doctor. I want some professional advice. ANTON I can't give it. RUDOLF But I insist that you can. ELENA It's not his custom to give advice. RUDOLF Nonsense--he's a doctor--a distinguished one. ELENA By a process of suggestion, he compels the patient to advise himself. RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON) Very well, then--suggest something. ANTON No. You have ideas of your own. RUDOLF A bewilderingly wide variety. ANTON I don't doubt it. But it is useless for me to try to consider this in the light of my own experience; because I have never confronted this problem in just this way before. RUDOLF Why, with Elena for a wife I should think that this sort of thing would be coming up all the time. ANTON I agree one would naturally think so. (ANTON _is beginning to betray evidences of impatience which might easily develop into violent wrath_.) ELENA But one would be wrong. RUDOLF Well, I'm glad. ANTON I'm only a psychiatrist. Your case requires the specialized services of a neuro-pathologist. There is a very good one in Munich. RUDOLF Munich? But that's a long way off--and the night is slipping through our fingers. ANTON That's the only advice I can give you, Herr von Habsburg. There's nothing I can do to help you. RUDOLF (_appalled_) Herr von Habsburg! So that's my name? Herr von Habsburg! Oh--I'm not protesting. It _is_ my name! It would have been patronizing to call me anything else. Forgive me for interrupting. . . . (_During the foregoing speech he has crossed to the left, close to_ ANTON, _as though, for a moment, he had considered a demonstration of his resentment of the humiliating "Herr." . . . He now sits down, slumping, on a chair that is between_ ANTON, _who is standing before the fire-place, and_ ELENA, _on the couch. . . . It should be noted that through this dialogue_ ELENA _is watching both of them with enthralled interest, alarmed expectancy and mounting excitement. . . . With apparent weariness_, RUDOLF _continues:_) You were saying something about a doctor in Munich. ANTON Yes. I'll give you a letter to him, and I urge that you go and consult him at once. RUDOLF (_with a flash of anger_) But I don't want to go to Munich! I want this problem to be settled now! ANTON I'm not a witch doctor. I can't straighten out a mass of glandular complications with a wave of the hand. RUDOLF (_surprised but amused_) Oh, but I'm not complicated--even though I do like to represent myself as an enigma. (_To_ ELENA.) You don't mind my talking about myself? ELENA Not at all. We're used to it. RUDOLF It's a fascinating subject. . . . You must realize, Herr Doctor, that for all my talk, I'm simply a man who lives on sensations. They're meat and drink and breath of life to me. At the moment, I'm desperately in need of nourishment--nourishment for my self-esteem. My ego is like the belly of a starving man--it's bloated but empty. ANTON And you imagine that I can furnish the necessary nourishment? RUDOLF If you can't--no one else can. ANTON If this could be dealt with in a rational manner, it would be simple. I'd tell you to look at her to your heart's content--fill your imagination with her. (RUDOLF _turns and stares at_ ELENA _and continues to do so while_ ANTON _snaps out the following:_) And then see for yourself that for you she has no substance; she's a dream that you've explained, and disposed of, and that you can never recapture. . . . But it isn't so simple as all that. (_Slowly_ RUDOLF _turns away from_ ELENA, _rises, confronts_ ANTON.) RUDOLF You're right, my friend. It isn't so simple. . . . I must do more than just look. (ANTON _walks away, toward the right_.) ELENA Well, Anton--what have you to say to that? ANTON (_irritably_) There's nothing for me to say. I don't want to have anything to say. (_There is a pregnant pause._) RUDOLF I know--it's a damned awkward situation. And it wouldn't have arisen if it hadn't been for your decency. When I came in here I was ready to fight, and either be dragged out myself, or take Elena with me. But--you were so kind. You were so friendly. You showed me that this dispute should be settled by reason as opposed to force. ANTON I find that this dispute has become essentially unreasonable. RUDOLF It has not! My impulses are entirely natural. ANTON And so are my objections to your impulses. RUDOLF Oh! So you do object? ANTON Yes! I do! (_His attitude is now one of undisguised belligerence._) RUDOLF You're not friendly with me any more. Why? Do you imagine that I want to take her away from you for good and all? I can reassure you on that point. I want her for one night only. That will give me enough to live on for another ten years--by which time I'll hardly be a serious menace to you or to any one. Now--surely--you can have no objection to that? ANTON You're forcing me into the hellishly uncomfortable position of a jealous husband. RUDOLF If you will permit me to say so, you assumed that position voluntarily when you married her. ANTON Yes, yes! I know that! RUDOLF You admitted the presence that is in your house, and now that the presence has materialized, are you afraid to face it? ELENA No! Anton! You won't let him say that. RUDOLF No! No! I don't believe it! You're a man of exalted intellect. You know that jealousy is merely a manifestation of fear, and you have banished fear as completely as you have banished the odious Habsburgs. Isn't that so? ANTON We've expelled the Habsburgs from Austria, but not all of us have expelled the Habsburgs from ourselves. . . . Now, I want you to leave. RUDOLF What? ANTON I'm asking you to go. RUDOLF Taking Elena with me? ANTON No. RUDOLF Even though she might want to go? ANTON Have you bothered to consult her as to that? (ELENA _rises and crosses to the fire-place_.) ELENA Oh, leave me out of this. I'm only the guerdon in this conflict. You will have to dispose of me between yourselves. ANTON Get out! RUDOLF Oh--I'm disappointed in you, Herr Doctor. I thought you were one who had conquered all the baser emotions. But now I see that you _are_ just a husband--no better than the rest of them. ANTON Unless you go of your own accord, I shall attempt to put you out--and I believe I shall succeed. RUDOLF I'm sure you can. But not without making a ridiculous spectacle of yourself. ANTON (_taking off his glasses_) Then I shall not delay the process. (_He now starts to take off his coat. Observing this_, RUDOLF _starts to take off his coat, turning to_ ELENA, _as he does so_.) RUDOLF There, Elena! I have exposed him before your eyes. This colossus of the intellect, this triumph of civilization, is behaving like a vindictive ape. ANTON Get out! RUDOLF (_going up and putting his coat on the balcony rail_) I have to warn you that I'm not going to fight fair. ANTON You'd better not watch this, Elena. ELENA Nothing could induce me to leave now! (_She sits down on the bench before the fire-place._) I've just realized that I've been waiting for this moment for years. RUDOLF That's right. Stay where you are. When I've had enough I'll call to you and you can drag him off me. (_He picks up a small, modernistic metal statue from the bookcase and brandishes it._) Come on, Herr Professor. It's for you to begin the brawl. . . . ELENA Put that down! (RUDOLF _examines the statue_.) RUDOLF Do you _like_ that? ELENA Put it down! (_Reluctantly he obeys._) RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON) I'm now unarmed. I'm a competent swordsman but I'm hopelessly inept with my fists. I'm forced to the indignity of treating with you. I'll make you an offer. ANTON Make it quickly. RUDOLF A very handsome one . . . ANTON Make it quickly! RUDOLF (_with convincing fervor_) Give her to me for this one night, and I shall give to you in return my one possession--namely, this carcass that I wear about my immortal soul, these priceless pounds of flesh. To-morrow I shall go forth upon the Ringstrasse. I shall kick and insult policemen. My identity will become known. I shall be beaten to earth and shot, and I shall die gloriously in the gutter, my head pillowed on a pile of excrement. But before I take this suicidal action, I shall sign documents bequeathing my remains, unconditionally, to the eminent Professor Doctor . . . what's the name? ELENA Krug. RUDOLF Krug! All that is left of me will be yours. You will appreciate my value to science. You may lay me out on your operating table, you may probe, dissect me, discover just what it is about me that has made me what I am, the quality that dominated most of Europe for six hundred years. You will be able to say to your students: "Here, gentlemen--this revolting object that I hold before you is the heart of a Habsburg!" (_There is a prolonged pause._) No? You reject my offer? You insist on being primitive? Very well, then! Come on, Herr Doctor--(_He steps back and achieves a pose._) I'm waiting for that bull-like rush. ANTON You are succeeding in your object. RUDOLF I--succeeding? ANTON You are making a fool of me. I should have heeded your warning that you wouldn't fight fair. There are a thousand excellent reasons why I should hit you and I know all those reasons. But confronting you this way, in the presence of my wife, whom I wish above all others to impress, I can't do it. I could finish the fight, but I can't start it. ELENA No, Anton, you're wrong. You couldn't finish it. I am the only one who could do that. I should have known it there at Lucher's. (_The night bell rings._) I shouldn't have tried to escape. That's the mistake I've always . . . (_The bell rings again._) Who is that? RUDOLF Don't tell me that the doctor is being summoned to a patient! (_The bell rings again._) ELENA Shall I go? (_She crosses to the right._) ANTON No--Kathie is awake. (_Old_ KRUG _comes in_.) KRUG I heard the bell! I thought it might be something important. RUDOLF Let us hope it is not a matter of life and death. (KATHIE _comes in at the right_.) KATHIE Herr Professor Doctor! (POFFY _rushes in_.) POFFY Herr Professor Doctor, my deepest apologies for bursting in in this manner but . . . ANTON What is it? POFFY It's the police. KRUG The police! ANTON What do they want? POFFY His Imperial Highness was seen tearing down the Kartnerstrasse in a taxi . . . (_Old_ KRUG _whistles_.) ELENA They want him! They've found out about him! RUDOLF By all means let them have me. It's an easy disposition of your problem, Herr Professor. ELENA No. You will have to hide. Go in there. ANTON What good will that do? The police will keep on till they find him. RUDOLF I shall not hide! I prefer to stand and face them. ELENA No, you won't. Go in there. . . . Kathie--tell the police that Dr. Krug will see them in a moment. KATHIE Yes, ma'am. (_She goes._) POFFY (_to_ RUDOLF) You must hide! The whole force is out searching for you. RUDOLF (_going up_) This is the very depth of ignominy. KRUG In here, Your Imperial Highness. ELENA Here! (_She hands him his Tyrolean hat._) RUDOLF I will not be arrested in this God-damned hat! (_He goes into the room at the back._) ELENA Shut the door, father. (KRUG _does so_--ELENA _motions him to his bedroom. He pouts but goes out, upper left._) ANTON We'll have to see them. POFFY I beg of you, Herr Professor, go down and send them away. ANTON Do you think that will stop them from going on with their search? POFFY But, surely, they will listen to you. Your position . . . ANTON They know perfectly well that there was every likelihood of his coming here. I might get them out of this house, but I can't prevent them from keeping a close watch on it. POFFY But you have the greatest influence with the authorities. You can speak to them, persuade them . . . ANTON To do what? To allow him to remain here as my guest? POFFY No--to permit him to leave Austria, quietly. If you will only say a word to Herr Wreede, the prefect. He's out at Schönbrunn. . . . And I can swear to you that the Archduke will abide by any arrangement you choose to make. ANTON (_to_ ELENA) So I'm to go to Schönbrunn and make all the arrangements. ELENA Oh, yes, Anton. You must do everything you can to help him. . . . POFFY You will be performing an act of the greatest generosity! ELENA Yes, Anton. (ANTON _stares at_ ELENA _for a moment, then turns to_ POFFY.) ANTON Will you please wait for me downstairs? POFFY Yes, Herr Professor Doctor. (_He bows and goes. There is another pause._) ANTON An act of great generosity! And let us hope of great wisdom. ELENA Have you any doubt of the wisdom, Anton? ANTON Yes, I have, but I must not admit it. (_He is making a gallant attempt to be ironic._) You see, Elena--I am facing the test of my own relentless principles. You've heard what my students call me: "the messiah of a new faith." . . . Well--to-night I've heard the bitter injunction that is given to all messiahs: "Physician, heal thyself." It's not a comforting thought. . . . However--I must go out to Schönbrunn and see Wreede. I must make the necessary arrangements. I shan't be back before morning. ELENA Oh! ANTON Yes! (_He comes close to her._) You saw the truth, Elena. You saw it, at last, when he goaded me into behaving like--like a vindictive ape. You are the only one who can settle it. If you can look at him, and laugh at him, and pity him, as you'd pity a deluded child; if you can see him for what he is, and not for what your memory tells you that he was--then you're free. He can never hurt you, whatever he does, or whatever you do. ELENA Very well, Anton. ANTON (_he stares at her for a moment_) Good-bye, Elena. . . . And tell him not to worry. . . . (_He turns and starts to go._) Herr Wreede will be glad to do me a favor. His wife is one of my patients. (_He has gone out at the right. . . ._ ELENA _stands still for a moment, then turns and calls, "Rudolf! Rudolf!"_ RUDOLF _opens the door and peers out_. ELENA _crosses to the left_.) ELENA They've gone. You can come out. (RUDOLF _emerges, still in his shirt sleeves, carrying his uniform coat. His tone during the subsequent scene is elaborately sardonic._) RUDOLF Are you sure it's safe? ELENA Perfectly. RUDOLF Where is your husband? ELENA He has gone out. RUDOLF Where? ELENA To see the prefect of police. RUDOLF And what am I to do in the meanwhile--put on my coat and go? ELENA No. You can't. The police are down there. RUDOLF They were reluctant to take your husband's word? ELENA Yes--but you can rely on Anton. He has great influence with the officials. He'll see to it that you are allowed to leave Austria safely. RUDOLF (_coming down_) So I'm to rely on him, am I? ELENA There's no one else who could do as much for you. RUDOLF The soul of magnanimity, isn't he! ELENA Yes. RUDOLF And trustful, too! ELENA Yes. RUDOLF And sublimely confident of your strength. ELENA Yes! RUDOLF And contemptuous of me. (_She says nothing. He throws his coat down on the couch, and glowers at the door through which_ ANTON _departed_.) As effective a bit of foul play as I have ever witnessed! He's tricked me into his debt--put me on my honor. He knows that I have that. It runs in the Habsburg blood--honor and epilepsy. We deserved to be thrown out--not because we were tyrants, but because we were all at heart rotten sentimentalists. The doctor has discovered the essential weakness. ELENA I told you his method of cure. He influences the patient to advise himself. RUDOLF Yes--and what he has made me advise myself is not very gratifying to my vanity or stimulating to my lecherous impulses. God damn him! He's devitalized me, emasculated me. (_He sits down on the end of the couch; his fury and much of his bumptiousness have gone out of him._) While I was in there, hiding, waiting for him to protect me from the law, I looked at my coat, and the obsolete medals, and the worn-out lining, and a great truth dawned on me. It came to me in a revelation that I am no longer an Archduke, nephew of an Emperor; I am a taxi-driver, dressed up! ELENA And did your revelation also disclose to you what I am now? RUDOLF Yes! You're no longer a mistress--you're a wife--and consequently unprepossessing. ELENA Ah! You have realized that at last! RUDOLF I have. ELENA And you know that I can face you, and laugh at you, and pity you, as I'd pity a deluded child! RUDOLF Do we need to enlarge on it? If you mean to get satisfaction for all the indignities that I've lavished on you, you'll be up all night. . . . Go to bed and leave me alone. I'll promise to sit here and keep the faith. ELENA (_with sudden tenderness_) You'd better have some rest. You'll be travelling in the morning. RUDOLF Your solicitude is touching. But please don't have me on your mind. ELENA The police may come back. RUDOLF And you want me to know that it would grieve you sorely to have me receive my just deserts. I knew it! ELENA You'd better go in there and lie down and try to get some sleep. RUDOLF As you wish. (_He rises, crosses to the window, starts to look out upon the Viennese scene, but turns away._) I shall rest peacefully, soothed by the knowledge that even I have influential friends in Austria. . . . Good night. . . . And when the benevolent doctor returns, please try to express to him some measure of my gratitude. Assure him that, thanks to his generosity, I shall leave Vienna, forever, and return to my taxi. (_He has gone up to the landing at the back. Elena picks up his coat from the couch._) ELENA You've forgotten your coat, Rudolf. RUDOLF Oh, thank you. ELENA (_looking at the coat_) It needs mending. (_She goes up to the steps._) RUDOLF Please don't bother. I'll never wear it again. ELENA You will, Rudolf. You'll always wear it, gallantly--even if the lining is a little torn. It's your coat. (_She hands him the coat._) RUDOLF Yes! One of the meagre possessions of Herr von Habsburg! (_He puts the coat on the balustrade._) You're very sweet, Elena. I don't quite know why you should be, in view of the ridiculous trouble I've caused. But please remember that I'm grateful--and also sorry. (_She takes his hand._) ELENA No, Rudolf--you must never be sorry. RUDOLF Good night, my dear. (_He kisses her hand._) Good-bye. (_He goes into the bedroom. . . . For some moments, she stands still. At length, she picks up his coat, looks at the worn lining and the tarnished medals, hanging limply. Then she turns, switches out the lights so that the stage is in darkness except for a faint glow from the hallway. She opens the door of her room. The light from within shines on her._) ELENA Rudolf . . . RUDOLF (_from offstage_) Yes? (_She goes into the room and closes the door behind her._) CURTAIN _The curtain is down a few seconds to indicate the passage of several hours. Its rise reveals morning, brilliantly sunny, warm and cheerful._ KATHIE _is completing the arranging of the breakfast table which is at the left of the couch. It is set for three._ _Old_ KRUG _shuffles in from the left, carrying the morning paper_. KRUG (_disgusted_) Just as I thought! Not a word in here about what happened last night. One of the most exciting things that's happened in this city in years, and then they hush it up. (_He sniffs and his expression changes._) Mm! Kidneys! KATHIE You're not to touch them! They are for the Herr Professor Doctor. KRUG I thought as much. . . . Oh--well . . . (KATHIE _starts to go_, KRUG _follows her, talking_.) KRUG Oh, Kathie! (_She pauses._) What did you think of our guest, eh? Did you ever see any one like that before? KATHIE (_scornfully_) No! (_She resumes her exit._) KRUG I never did, either--I mean, close to. How did they get rid of him? What happened after I went to bed? (_He is following her out._) KATHIE (_from offstage_) I haven't the faintest idea what happened! KRUG (_from offstage_) Well--I'd surely like to know. But it's a sure thing no one's going to tell me. Didn't you hear anything? (RUDOLF _comes out of the room at the back, and deposits his cape and his hat on the balustrade. . . ._ KRUG, _still mumbling, returns_.) I've got to find out all these things for myself. RUDOLF Good morning. Good morning. Good morning! Whoever you are, I bid you good morning, and I can assure you I do so with the most profound sincerity. (KRUG _sees who it is, and is so startled he can only gape_. RUDOLF _goes to the window and looks out_.) It has been years since I have seen one like it. You know, it's an extraordinary thing about Vienna; in no other place on earth will you find a finer quality of mornings. They're ample, they're complete! They have character. Look at this one! It's a new day--and, don't forget, that's very different from saying "another day." You never hear people in Vienna say "another day has dawned," do you? For that's precisely like saying "another Chinaman has been born," an exact reproduction of all the countless millions and millions of Chinamen that have been born and lived and died. . . . It's an appalling thought, isn't it? (_He crosses toward the breakfast table, by which old_ KRUG, _utterly bewildered, is now standing_.) No, my dear friend--we Viennese are privileged beings. For us, each morning is an adventure, unprecedented and unforgettable. A new day! (_He inspects the array of breakfast._) What have we here? KRUG (_weakly_) I thought Your Imperial Highness had gone. RUDOLF What led you to that misconception? (_He is looking at the various dishes._) KRUG After the police had left, I heard the front door close again. RUDOLF That was the excellent Herr Professor, going forth to clear the atmosphere. Ah! Kidneys. (_He takes the dish and sits down._) KRUG Those are for my son! RUDOLF He likes kidneys, does he? (_He has begun to eat them._) KRUG He does--and no one is allowed to touch . . . RUDOLF Please sit down. (KRUG _sits across the table_.) You know, the more I hear about that gifted scientist, the more I know him to be a gentleman of discernment and taste. He and I obviously appreciate the same delicacies. KRUG Where did you sleep last night? RUDOLF Now really, my friend--you're a man of the world, aren't you? KRUG (_indignantly_) I am nothing of the kind. RUDOLF I envy you. It's a poor world. You do well to keep out of it. If you take my advice, you'll stay here, where you are, in this charming house, in this incomparable city, with a view of the horse-chestnuts; and leave investigation of the world to those who have no place else to go. (ELENA _comes in. She is radiant._) Ah! Our lovely hostess! KRUG Look, Elena! Look at who is having breakfast with me! ELENA Good morning, father. Good morning, Rudolf. (_She waves toward the window._) Gorgeous, isn't it? RUDOLF We've been discussing it, at some length. KRUG You should have heard him, Elena. I couldn't make out what he was talking about. (ELENA _has come down to the table and taken possession of the coffee pot_.) ELENA Will you have coffee, Rudolf? RUDOLF Oh--I'll have everything: coffee, with whipped cream, rolls, honey, jam, jelly. . . . (_To_ KRUG.) By the way, did you ever know why it was that our bakers started making rolls in the shape of crescents? (KRUG _shakes his head_.) It was intended as an expression of our contempt for the Turks. (_He is holding up a crescent roll while he talks._) KRUG Was it really! (_He takes a bite of a roll, and munches it reflectively, as though appreciating for the first time its full flavor._) RUDOLF Oh, I could tell you many similar facts of historical importance. For instance--about the Serbian pigs . . . ELENA (_interrupting_) I've forgotten whether you take sugar. RUDOLF (_gazing at her_) So have I. (_Old_ KRUG _laughs heartily_.) ELENA Father! What are you laughing at? KRUG He said he'd forgotten if he takes sugar. RUDOLF I don't blame you for laughing! I don't blame you a bit. It was a fatuous remark. KRUG What? RUDOLF A very silly remark. As a matter of fact, I take three lumps. (_They all laugh at that._) ELENA (_to_ KRUG) He's a fool, isn't he? KRUG I should say that he is! Why, do you know what he said about the morning? He said it was like a lot of Chinamen! (_He laughs uproariously. So do_ ELENA _and_ RUDOLF. . . . _The merriment is interrupted when_ ANTON _comes in, accompanied by_ POFFY.) ANTON Good morning. ELENA Anton! (_She rises and crosses to_ ANTON.) KRUG (_pointing to_ RUDOLF) Look at _this_, Anton . . . RUDOLF Before any one else breaks the news, permit me to announce that I have devoured the kidneys. ELENA Kathie will cook some more. Sit down, Anton--and you too, Poffy. ANTON No, I've already had a huge breakfast at the Hotel Lucher. But I'm afraid this gentleman hasn't. He has been standing out in the street all night. RUDOLF Why in heaven's name have you been doing _that?_ POFFY The police were still there, and I thought I might be needed. RUDOLF And you were ready to die for your Prince. Such gallantry must not pass unnoticed. (_He unpins a medal from his coat and tosses it to_ POFFY, _who catches it_.) KRUG (_wide-eyed_) Did you _see_ that! RUDOLF You say you've been at Lucher's? ANTON Yes. RUDOLF Is the party still going on? ANTON Oh Lord, yes. They all entertained me at breakfast. ELENA How are they now? ANTON They're getting a little sleepy. RUDOLF (_to old_ KRUG) Then let's rush over and wake them up! (KRUG _starts up, hopefully_.) ANTON I'm afraid we can't. I mean, you and I. RUDOLF Oh! ANTON We have to start immediately for Passau, where you will be allowed to cross the frontier. There's a government car downstairs. RUDOLF I see. ANTON I hate to drag you away. RUDOLF (_rising_) But it's necessary. Of course it is. Do I have to wear that cape and that hat? ELENA Yes--help him, father. (_Rising_, KRUG _throws his napkin down_.) KRUG Oh, _dear!_ Now he has to _go!_ ELENA But why do you have to go with him, Anton? RUDOLF I flatly refuse to hear of such a thing! I will not take you away from your duties, your home. Poffy will escort me. POFFY I should be delighted to. ANTON No. I have given my word that I myself will see you depart from Austria. The authorities wished me to explain that they will take extraordinary precautions to see that you do not return. RUDOLF I don't blame them. I don't blame them a bit. . . . Thank you. (_This to old_ KRUG, _who has brought him his hat and cape_.) ANTON (_to_ ELENA) I shan't be back much before evening. Will you tell Zenzi to cancel all my engagements for to-day? ELENA Yes, Anton. I'll tell her. And I'll send word to the university. RUDOLF A dutiful wife, Herr Professor. I commend her to you--and you to her. It is a remarkable union, and it will give me satisfaction to the end of my days to think that perhaps I, in my small way, have contributed something to it. ELENA It's time to go, Rudolf. RUDOLF I know it is. But before I depart, Herr Professor, let me say that I call your roof tree blessed! For beneath it, a Habsburg has been entertained--royally entertained--and has been granted, into the bargain, a superb demonstration of applied psychology. . . . Good-bye, Elena. (_He kisses her hand._) No wistful tears, please. (_He crosses to_ POFFY, _who bows and kisses_ RUDOLF'S _hand_.) Good-bye, Poffy. If you sell that medal for a sou less than a thousand francs, I shall be insulted. (RUDOLF _slaps_ POFFY _on the back and crosses to old_ KRUG, _who is by the door at the right_.) Good-bye, my dear friend. Think of me in the mornings. (_He kisses old_ KRUG _on both cheeks and goes out at the right_. POFFY _and_ KRUG _go up to the window_.) ANTON (_to_ ELENA) There'll be no trouble. . . . ELENA Anton--there's something I want to say . . . ANTON (_hastily_) No, there isn't, Elena. You have nothing to say to me. I have only to look at you. (_He takes her hand._) I must hurry. . . . ELENA Yes, Anton--but I wanted to say--when you get to the frontier, ask him to give you back my wedding ring. ANTON I shall. And I left a package for you in the hall. Frau Lucher gave it to me. It's your white dress. (_He kisses_ ELENA'S _hand and goes out_.) KRUG (_at the window_) A government car--with the shades drawn! (ELENA _goes over to the table and sits down, wilfully indifferent to old_ KRUG'S _excited reports of what is happening in the street below_.) ELENA Sit down, Poffy, and have some breakfast. You must be famished. POFFY (_crossing to the table_) I rather imagine that I am. (POFFY _sits down_. ELENA _looks at the empty dish_.) KRUG They're just starting--and the policeman is saluting them! ELENA All the kidneys are gone. . . . Father! Ring the bell. I'll tell Kathie to cook some more. KRUG Enough for me, too? (_Pressing the bell button._) ELENA Of course. KRUG Good! (_He is ambling over to the table._) ELENA (_pouring coffee_) Cream? POFFY No, thanks, Elena. I've got out of the habit of cream. (_She hands him the cup._) KRUG You know, Elena--I've never, in all my life, had so much fun! ELENA Neither have I. (_She smiles at old_ KRUG, _then sips her coffee_.) CURTAIN TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE The following changes were made to the original text: Page 8: changed off-stage to offstage Page 17: changed fireplace to fire-place Page 39: changed Good-by to Good-bye Page 75: changed downstage to down-stage and changed Upstage to Up-stage Other than changing the capitalization of some of the character names, minor variations in spelling and punctuation have been preserved. [End of _Reunion in Vienna_ by Robert Emmet Sherwood]