The Ride Across Lake Constance and Other Plays

The Ride Across Lake Constance

It’s a winter night. A man rides across Lake Constance without sparing his horse. When he arrives on the other side, his friends congratulate him profusely, saying: “What a surprise! How did you ever make it! The ice is no more than an inch thick!” The rider hesitates briefly, then drops off his horse. He is instantly dead.

M.R.

Characters

WOMAN WITH WHITE SCARF

EMIL JANNINGS

HEINRICH GEORGE

ELISABETH BERGNER

ERICH VON STROHEIM

HENNY PORTEN

ALICE AND ELLEN KESSLER

A DOLL

To avoid character designations such as “Actor A,” “Actor B,” “Actress C,” and so on, for reading and other purposes the characters in the play have been given the names of well-known actors.

When the play is staged, the characters should bear the names of the actors playing the roles: the actors are and play themselves at one and the same time.

“Are You Dreaming or Are You Speaking?”

The stage is large. It displays a section of an even larger room. The background is formed by the back wall of this room; the wall is covered by a brownish-green tapestry with a barely perceptibly pattern. Along the back wall two parts of a staircase lead down from the right and left and meet in the center of the wall, where they form a single set of wide stairs, of which a number of steps lead forward into the room. The audience therefore sees persons walking down the stairs first in profile, then from the front. In the wall beneath the right and left parts of the stairway are two barely visible tapestry doors. The staircase has a delicately curved, slender bannister. The floor of the room is covered with an unobtrusive carpet whose color matches the tapestry; a wine-red runner leads down the staircase steps.

Most of the furnishings in the room are covered with dropcloths; these are extremely white. In the center of the room, not precisely center of course, rather almost downstage, stands a large dark table, partially covered by a lace tablecloth; on it are an ashtray, a cigar box, a teapot or coffee pot covered with an embroidered cozy, a longish cutlery case, also of embroidered cloth, and two candlesticks sheathed in protective covers. To the right and left and behind the table stand three fauteuils with white dropcloths; next to and behind them are an easy chair and a straight chair, dropcloths over both. In front of one of the fauteuils stands a stool upholstered the same and the same height as the fauteuil that may serve as a footrest; a smaller footstool stands in front of the second fauteuil; the third fauteuil stands by itself. To the right of the table, a few steps away, stands a small bar, not covered, with several bottles whose forms indicate their respective contents. To the left of the table, a few steps away, stands a newspaper table, not covered either, with a few bulky magazines, some of which are still rolled up; on top is a record player with a record on it. Looking further to the left and right behind the newspaper table and bar one sees two sofas, also concealed by white dropcloths. To the left side of the left sofa is a brown-stained chest, with several drawers; on it a small statue covered with a white paper bag. On the right side of the right sofa leans a guitar in a bag embroidered like the tea cozy. Beneath the sections of the staircase hang two pictures on the wall concealed behind white sheets. Downstage to the extreme right, in line with the table, is a Japanese screen of the kind one usually sets up in front of beds. It is small and has three panels; two of them are slightly pushed together, the third is open and visible to the audience. The screen has the same pattern and color as the back wall.

All objects are in such a position that it would be difficult to imagine them standing elsewhere; it is as though they could not bear being moved ever so slightly. Everything appears as though rooted to the spot, not only the objects themselves but also the distances and empty spaces between them.

The light is that of early morning.

After the curtain has opened, two portieres to the right and left of the proscenium are revealed, as portieres to a chambre séparée.

A WOMAN, her hair wrapped in a WHITE SCARF, moves quickly but not hastily among the objects with a vacuum cleaner. She is in blackface. The vacuum cleaner, which was turned on the moment the curtain began to open, makes a more or less steady noise.

On a fauteuil beside the table, his legs on the appropriate footstool, sits EMIL JANNINGS, his eyes closed. He is quite fat. His boots stand next to the stool. He is wearing red silk socks, black pants, a light-colored shirt, open at the collar. He seems costumed although only hints of a costume are visible: rather long frills on the sleeves of the silk shirt, a wine-red silk sash around his stomach.

He is heavily made up, the eyebrows are painted. On the right hand, whose nails are lacquered black, he wears several large rings.

He has not moved since the curtain opened, and the WOMAN has nearly completed her work. Pushing the vacuum cleaner back and forth near the newspaper table with one hand, she turns on the record player with the other.

However, one hears only a few isolated sounds; the vacuum cleaner is too noisy.

She takes the cleaner to the back wall and turns it off so that the music becomes audible: “The Garden Is Open” by T. Kupferberg. She pulls the plug out of the socket, rolls it up on the machine, and places the machine behind the tapestry door.

While the record continues to play, she walks from object to object and takes off the dropcloths, except those on the paintings and on the statue. Although she moves fairly slowly, her work is proceeding quite rapidly; at least, one barely notices it. She pulls the cover from under EMIL JANNINGS with a single movement and walks off to the left while the record is still playing.

Then nothing moves onstage for a while except for the record.

The record player turns itself off, and after a moment JANNINGS slowly opens his eyes.

JANNINGS

(With a cracked voice) As I said — (He clears his throat once and repeats in a firm voice.) As I said. (Pause.) A bad moment. (Someone behind the screen with a cracked voice: “Why?” He clears his throat twice; the second time he does so he steps out from behind the screen, repeats then in a firm voice: “Why?” It is HEINRICH GEORGE, quite fat, his clothes also suggesting a costume, with braids trimming his jacket and with lace-up shoes. He stands there. JANNINGS has turned his head away slightly.) It’s over already.

GEORGE

(Takes a step toward JANNINGS and collapses. As he slowly rises again) My foot has fallen asleep.

JANNINGS

(Reaches for the cigar box. He lifts it but cannot hold on to it so that it falls to the floor.) So has my hand. (GEORGE carefully walks up to JANNINGS, stops next to him. Both of them glance at each other for the first time, then look away again. GEORGE leans against the edge of the table, now sits down on it. The cigar box is lying on the floor between them. Both look at it. JANNINGS turns his head toward GEORGE. GEORGE slides of the table. JANNINGS points at the cigar box. GEORGE misunderstands the gesture and looks as if there was something to see on the box. JANNINGS agrees to the misunderstanding and now points as if he really wanted to point out something.) That blue sky you see on the label, my dear fellow, it really exists there.

GEORGE

(Bends down to the cigar box, takes it, looks at it.) You’re right! (He puts the box back on the floor and straightens up.)

JANNINGS

You’re standing …

GEORGE

(Interrupts him.) I can also sit down. (He sits down in the fauteuil with the smaller footstool and makes himself comfortable.) What did you want to say?

JANNINGS

“You’re standing just now: would you be kind enough to hand me the cigar box from the floor?”

(Pause.)

GEORGE

You were dreaming?

JANNINGS

When the nights were especially long, in winter.

GEORGE

You must be dreaming.

JANNINGS

Once, on a winter evening, I was sitting with someone in a restaurant. As I said, it was evening, we sat by the window and were talking about a corpse; about a suicide who had leaped into the river. Outside, it rained. We held the menus in our hands. “Don’t look to the right!” (GEORGE quickly looks to the left, then to the right.) shouted the person opposite me. I looked to the right: but there was no corpse. Besides, my friend had meant I should not look on the right page of the menu because that was where the prices were marked. (Pause.) How do you like the story?

GEORGE

So it was only a story?

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

When one tells it, it seems like that to oneself.

GEORGE

Like a story? (JANNINGS nods. Pause. Then he slowly shakes his hedd.) So you’re wrong after all. Then it’s true what you told me?

JANNINGS

I’m just wondering.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

And how did it go on?

JANNINGS

We ordered kidneys flambé.

GEORGE

And you got them?

JANNINGS

Of course.

GEORGE

And asked for the check and got it?

JANNINGS

Naturally.

GEORGE

And asked for the coats and got them?

JANNINGS

Why the coats?

GEORGE

Because it was a winter evening.

JANNINGS

(Relieved) Of course.

GEORGE

And then?

JANNINGS

We went home.

(Both laugh with relief. Pause.)

GEORGE

Only one thing I don’t understand. Of what significance is the winter evening to the story? There was no need to mention it, was there? (JANNINGS closes his eyes and thinks.) Are you asleep?

JANNINGS

(Opens his eyes.) Yes, that was it! You asked me whether I was dreaming and I told you how long I sleep during winter nights and that I then begin to dream toward morning, and as an example I wanted to tell you a dream that might occur during a winter night.

GEORGE

Might occur?

JANNINGS

I invented the dream. As I said, it was only an example. The sort of thing that goes through one’s head … As I said — a story …

GEORGE

But the kidneys flambé?

JANNINGS

Have you ever had kidneys flambé?

GEORGE

No. Not that I know.

JANNINGS

If you don’t know, then you haven’t had them.

GEORGE

No.

JANNINGS

You’re disagreeing with me?

GEORGE

Yes, that is: no. That is: yes, I agree with you.

JANNINGS

In other words, when you mention kidneys flambé, you talk about something you know nothing about.

GEORGE

That’s what I wanted to say.

JANNINGS

And about something one doesn’t know, one shouldn’t talk, isn’t that so?

GEORGE

Indeed.

(JANNING makes the appropriate gesture with his hand, turning up his palm in the process. GEORGE stares at it, and under the impression that GEORGE has found something on the palm JANNINGS leaves it like that. The hand now looks as if it is waiting for something; say, for the cigar box. After what has been said just now the hand has the effect of an invitation, so that GEORGE bends down and puts the box in JANNINGS’ s hand.

A brief pause, as if JANNINGS had expected something else. Then he takes the box with his other hand and puts it on his knee. He looks at his hand, which is still extended.)

JANNINGS

That’s not what I meant to say with that. It just seemed to me that you had noticed something on my hand. (He opens the box top with his other hand and offers the box to GEORGE, who looks inside.) Take one.

(GEORGE quickly takes a cigar. JANNINGS takes one too. GEORGE takes the box from JANNINGS and puts it back on the table. Each lights his own cigar. Both lean back and smoke.)

GEORGE

Haven’t you noticed anything?

JANNINGS

Speak. (Pause.) Please, go ahead and speak.

GEORGE

Didn’t you notice how silly everything suddenly became when we began to talk about kidneys flambé? No, not so much suddenly as gradually, the more often we mentioned the kidneys flambé. Kidneys flambé, kidneys flambé, kidneys flambé! And didn’t it strike you why the kidneys flambé gradually made everything so hair-raisingly silly?

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

Speak.

GEORGE

Because we spoke about something that wasn’t visible at the time. Because we mentioned something that wasn’t there at the time! And do you know how I happened to notice this?

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

Speak.

GEORGE

When you made that motion with your hand two minutes ago—

JANNINGS

(Interrupts him.) Two minutes have passed since then?

GEORGE

It may also have been earlier. In any case — what was I about to say?

JANNINGS

When I made that motion with my hand …

GEORGE

When you made that motion with your hand, I suddenly noticed the rings on your fingers and thought to myself: ah, rings! Look at that, rings! Indeed: rings! And then I saw the rings again, and when what I thought and what I saw coincided so magically, I was so happy for a moment that I couldn’t help but put the cigar box in your hand. And only then I noticed how ridiculous I had seemed to myself speaking all that time about kidneys flambé! I wasn’t even myself any more, my hairs rose on end when I spoke about them. And only when I saw the rings and thought: ah, the rings! and then cast a second glance at the rings, then it seemed to me that I was no longer confused.

JANNINGS

And I felt you were handing me the box voluntarily.

GEORGE

Do you understand me?

JANNINGS

From a human point of view, yes.

GEORGE

Take a look around. (They take a look around the room.) Car. (They hesitate a little, continue looking around the room.) Cattle prod. (They hesitate, continue looking around the room.) Bloodhounds. (They look around the room, hesitate.) Swollen bellies. (Only JANNINGS looks around the room, hesitates.) Trigger button.

JANNINGS

(Quickly looks at GEORGE.) You’re right, let’s talk about my rings!

GEORGE

There’s nothing left to say about the rings. (JANNINGS remains silent.) It’s meaningless.

JANNINGS

I?

GEORGE

Your rings.

JANNINGS

And?

GEORGE

(Irritated) “And” what?

JANNINGS

(Irritated) And? (Pause. The pause becomes increasingly laden with animosity. Both smoke. When they notice that they are simultaneously drawing on their cigars, they stop and hold their breath. When one of them wants to blow out smoke, he notices that the other is just about to exhale and he hesitates; only then does he emit the smoke from his mouth. JANNINGS suddenly, in a very friendly manner) And if they were your rings?

GEORGE

(Suddenly looks at him in a very friendly manner.) But they are yours! (Pause. They hardly move. The pause becomes increasingly laden with animosity.) But they’re your rings? (Suddenly JANNINGS pulls the rings from his fingers. GEORGE understands, bends forward, spreading his fingers apart. JANNINGS places the rings on the table. GEORGE slips them easily and as though routinely, almost without looking, on his fingers. He regards his hand.) As if they were made for me! (Pause.) As if they had always belonged to me! (Pause.) They were made for me! (Pause.) And they have always belonged to me! (He holds the rings up to the light so that they sparkle. He caresses them and touches each individually with his lips. He plays: points with the ringless hand at something, then points with the ringed hand at the same thing; places the ringless hand on his heart, then places the ringed hand on it; waves someone toward him with a ringless finger, then with a ringed one; threatens someone with a naked finger, then with a ringed one. He is intoxicated by the idea of ownership.) I can’t even imagine my hand without rings any more! I can’t it me — I can’t myself — me myself — myself me — I can’t myself me — I simply can’t imagine myself without rings any more! Can you imagine me without rings? (JANNINGS makes no reply. GEORGE sets out to make a speech.) Expensive rings! Just as you, who are round, know no beginning and no end, in the same way — (He hesitates and begins once more.) And just as you transform the light that strikes you and are changed yourselves by the light, in the same way — (He hesitates. Pause.) In any cause — you elicit similes from me. Since I own you, you mean something to me. (Pause.) To wear rings on every finger — what does that mean? Wealth? Early death? To take care while climbing ladders? Job problems? Watch out, danger!?

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

I’ve never dreamed of rings so far.

GEORGE

Because you never owned any.

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

On the contrary, because I owned some. (Pause.) And they never elicit similes from me.

GEORGE

Because they weren’t enough for you.

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

On the contrary, because they were enough for me.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

Just as …

JANNINGS

What do you mean, “Just — as”?

GEORGE

Bide your time! (He begins once more.) Just as there are born losers, born troublemakers, and born criminals …

JANNINGS

Who says they exist?

GEORGE

I do!

JANNINGS

That doesn’t prove anything.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

Have you ever heard people talk about a “born loser”?

JANNINGS

Frequently.

GEORGE

And have you ever heard the expression “born troublemaker”?

JANNINGS

Indeed.

GEORGE

And the expression “born criminal”?

JANNINGS

Of course.

GEORGE

But the expression “a scurrying snake”—that you have heard quite frequently?

JANNINGS

No, never.

GEORGE

And have you ever heard of a “fiery Eskimo”?

JANNINGS

Not that I know.

GEORGE

If you don’t know it, then you haven’t heard of it either. But the expression “a flying ship”—that you have heard?

JANNINGS

At most in a fairy tale.

GEORGE

But scurrying snakes exist?

JANNINGS

Of course not.

GEORGE

But fiery Eskimos — they exist?

JANNINGS

I can’t imagine it.

GEORGE

But flying ships exist?

JANNINGS

At most in a dream.

GEORGE

Not in reality?

JANNINGS

Not in reality.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

But born losers?

JANNINGS

Consequently, they do exist.

GEORGE

And born troublemakers?

JANNINGS

They exist.

GEORGE

And therefore there are born criminals?

JANNINGS

It’s only logical.

GEORGE

As I wanted to say at the time …

JANNINGS

(Interrupts him.) “At the time”? Has it been that long already?

GEORGE

(Hesitates; astonished) Yes, that’s odd! (Then continues rapidly.) Just as there are born losers, born troublemakers, and born criminals, there are (He spreads his fingers.) born owners. Most people as soon as they own something are not themselves any more. They lose their balance and become ridiculous. Estranged from themselves they begin to squint. Bed wetters who stand next to their bed in the morning. (The bed signifies their possession. Or perhaps their shame?) (Brief moment of confusion, then he continues at once.) I, on the other hand, am a born owner: only when I possess something do I become myself …

JANNINGS

(Interrupts him.) “Born owner”? I’ve never heard that expression.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

(Suddenly) “Life is a game”—you must have heard people say that? (JANNINGS makes no reply, waits.) And a game has winners and losers, right? (JANNINGS makes no reply.) And those who don’t get anything are the losers, and those who can have everything are the winners, right? (JANNINGS makes no reply, only bends forward, opens his mouth, but not to speak.) And do you know the expression “born winner”?

(Silence. Suddenly both burst out laughing and slap each other’s thighs. While they are still doing so, a woman appears above left on the staircase. She is beautiful. She is wearing a long dress in which she moves as though it were carrying her. She has appeared noiselessly and has walked down a few steps. She stops in the middle of the left staircase, puts her hand on the bannister, and turns her head a little: it is ELISABETH BERGNER. Her hands are empty, no handbag.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” the first one asks at once.

“I,” answers the other.

Pause.

“Yes, me too,” the first one says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GEORGE

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

BERGNER

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

JANNINGS

What did she say?

GEORGE

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

BERGNER

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

GEORGE

Who?

BERGNER

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

JANNINGS

I?

BERGNER

No, he. (She points at GEORGE.)

PORTEN

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

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

BERGNER

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

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

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

BERGNER

Can’t he answer for himself?

JANNINGS

I speak for him.

BERGNER

Are you more powerful than he is?

JANNINGS

Why? I mean, why do you ask?

BERGNER

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

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

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

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

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

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

A permanent — and make it snappy!

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

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

JANNINGS

The sun!

GEORGE

(Hesitates.) Why the sun?

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

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

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

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

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

Finally one hears VON STROHEIM.)

VON STROHEIM

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

(Pause. All prepare to watch.

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

JANNINGS

Psst!

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

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

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

JANNINGS

Psst!

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

BERGNER

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

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

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

GEORGE

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

PORTEN

(Like a customer) Do you carry gas pistols?

GEORGE

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

PORTEN

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

GEORGE

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

PORTEN

A tear-gas pistol!

GEORGE

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

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

JANNINGS

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

GEORGE

A riding crop like this will do the trick too.

PORTEN

I want this one.

JANNINGS

Is she our first customer today?

GEORGE

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

PORTEN

(Takes the crop.) Is it a good one?

GEORGE

First-rate.

PORTEN

Can I believe you?

GEORGE

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

(PORTEN repeats what he did, producing the same sounds. The crop still in her hand, she pulls up her dress as far as the hip and pulls a large note of stage money out of her garter belt. She puts the note on the table and also places the crop next to it.

GEORGE, astonished, hands the crop back to her, then takes a few coins out of his pants pocket and puts them on the table. While he is looking for banknotes in his other pockets, PORTEN takes the coins; but when he continues to search, she puts the coins back on the table.

JANNINGS gets up and flashes a few notes, which he counts into her hand one by one. He closes her fingers one by one over the notes; the last finger — it is the index finger — she closes, very slowly, herself. It seems that she beckons him to come to her. At the same time they look into each other’s eyes. Everyone is holding his breath.

PORTEN pushes the bills into her bodice; then slowly withdraws her hand, making it evident that the hand is now empty; touches her upper lip with the tongue; and, gently flipping the crop back and forth, looks so long at the two salesmen that GEORGE shifts his weight from one leg to the other and shouts indecently loud at VON STROHEIM: “Do you belong together?” VON STROHEIM and PORTEN give each other a fleeting glance, then look away. A second glance: they look at each other as though for the first time.)

VON STROHEIM

Can’t one tell just by looking at us? crop.)

GEORGE

I guess so, now.

PORTEN

(To GEORGE and JANNINGS) And how is it with you two? Do you belong together?

(GEORGE and JANNINGS look at each other, look away. The second glance: they look at each other as though for the first time.)

GEORGE and JANNINGS

(Simultaneously) Yes, he belongs to me. (To one another, GEORGE softly, JANNINGS louder) You belong to me — you belong to me.

GEORGE

Why?

JANNINGS

Because it has always been like that.

GEORGE

Who says that?

JANNINGS

People in general.

GEORGE

And why do you tell me that only now?

JANNINGS

There was no need to tell you until now.

GEORGE

And now it has become necessary?

JANNINGS

(Looks at his cold cigar.) Yes. (He points with the cigar at the box of matches lying on the footstool. GEORGE bends down, then he hesitates and straightens up again.) There, you see how necessary it was. (GEORGE, confused, thereupon hands him the matches, and JANNINGS, content, lights his cigar. He drops the match.) You’ve lost something there.

(GEORGE glances briefly at the match, looks away. The second glance: he picks up the match and puts it in the ashtray.)

VON STROHEIM

(Applauds by way of suggestion, but one hears no clapping.) Much better already! Much better! Of course, if I were you …

PORTEN

Who’s stopping you?

VON STROHEIM

Yes, who’s stopping me? (He takes a deep breath and assumes a pose. (JANNINGS takes the coins from the table and flings them into his face. VON STROHEIM shakers himself and comers to his senses. He speaks to JANNINGS and GEORGE as though teaching them something.) You’re still here?

JANNINGS

(Repeating, but twice as loud) You’re still here?

VON STROHEIM

That’s it! Exactly! That’s how I would have done it! (Pause. VON STROHEIM gives JANNINGS a sign to go on speaking. He prompts him.) What do you want here?

JANNINGS

What do you want here?

VON STROHEIM

We just want to take a look around.

JANNINGS

This isn’t an amusement park!

VON STROHEIM

Why don’t you let him speak for himself!

(JANNINGS nods to GEORGE and sits down on the fauteuil, his back to the others.)

GEORGE

This is private property. (JANNINGS nods.) You’re not in a restaurant. You have nothing to say here. Please talk to each other only in whispers. If you must intrude here, at least take off your hats. Didn’t you see the felt slippers by the entrance? Look at me: I’m talking to you. You’re not at home here, where you can put your feet on the table. What has the world come to that anybody can come in? Watch your step, man-traps and self-detonating charges have been set. Danger, rat poison. Don’t touch anything. Beware of dog. Long, hard winter. Floods in spring, mud in the closets, no more cranes wake with their shrill screams in the meadows, no more June bugs buzz through the maple trees. (Pause.) It’s terribly painful to be alive and alone at one and the same time.

(Pause.)

VON STROHEIM

He’ll never learn it.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

It wasn’t raining yet, but farther away one could hear it already raining …

(VON STROHEIM turns away with PORTEN and walks around with her as if he wanted to inspect the furnishings. He wants to take out a magazine, but when he straightens up with it, it turns out that the magazine is chained to the table, like a telephone book, and he quickly puts it back. Then PORTEN wants to pick up the little statue covered with a paper bag, but it turns out that the statue is either screwed or glued to the chest of drawers. She pulls the bag from the statue: it is a multicolored painted dog sitting in an upright position. She touches it and it squeaks: it is made of rubber. VON STROHEIM joins her and pulls on one of the chest drawers. It will not open although he makes repeated attempts. Finally he tries a different drawer, which opens very easily.)

VON STROHEIM

You see!

(They leave the drawer open and continue their inspection tour. He takes off and drops the cover from the first picture: a seascape, not a rough sea, not a calm sea, no ships, only ocean and sky.

Almost simultaneously PORTEN has removed the cover from the second picture: a mirror without particular characteristics. She settles on the second, so far unused, sofa while VON STROHEIM returns from the bar with a bottle and two glasses. He sits down next to her and twists the bottle top but cannot open it. He quite casually blows into the glasses, and a cloud of dust swirls into his face. He casually puts the glasses and bottle aside. He looks at his hands, turns one palm up and down.)

PORTEN

(Suddenly seizes his hand.) Watch out! (Pause. She sees his hand.) Oh, it’s only your hand. I thought, an animal.

VON STROHEIM

Why don’t you look at me?

PORTEN

I don’t dare look at you closely because I’m afraid I might catch you at something! (She looks at him.)

(Pause. BERGNER in the meantime has gone to the mirror and calmly viewed herself in it.

GEORGE, still standing, carefully wipes the cutlery on the table with a large red cloth he pulled out of his pocket and then places it — now and then he tries to stand it on end — on a second red cloth as if he were putting the cutlery on display. He and JANNINGS are spectators.

PORTEN has put her hand on VON STROHEIM’S knee and is caressing her own hand with her other one.)

VON STROHEIM

(Moves his lips soundlessly, but every so often a word becomes audible.) Snowplows … hedges … a dog portrait? (At one point he presses down the intertwined fingers of both hands so that the joints crack.)

(BERGNER is combing herself, but with movements becoming increasingly more insecure. She does not know in which direction to comb while viewing herself in the mirror. With a small pair of scissors she wants to cut a strand of hair, holding it away from her head, but keeps missing until she finally lets go of the strand. She wants to put on makeup, pencils the eyebrows and the eyelines, puts rouge on her cheeks, powders her nose, puts on lipstick. But as she does this her movements become more and more shaky, and contradictory. She confuses the direction in which she wishes to draw the lines. She is mixed up. She wants to put the cosmetics back into the handbag but they fall to the floor. She walks away. She turns around, walks in the opposite direction, at the same time looking back over her shoulder, turns around again. She is totally confused, her face is badly made up. She walks in a direction where no one is and says: “Help me!” but with wrong gestures, hopping around. She bumps into things, bends forward to pick up things that physically lie behind her.)

PORTEN

(Calls to her.) Open your eyes! Say something! Pull yourself together! (But BERGNER does not turn her head toward her, instead to somewhere else. PORTEN gets up and walks up to her from behind.). Don’t be frightened.

BERGNER

(Startled, looks up toward the stairs. She tries to point to the painting with the seascape but is unable to.) It winked at me! It’s winking at me!

(PORTEN calms her down by caressing her and leading her around the room. Together they bend down for the coins and other things on the floor. At first PORTEN guides her hand, then BERGNER reaches for the things herself and also points at them correctly again. While doing this they talk to each other, and the longer they talk, the more sure of themselves and graceful they become.)

PORTEN

Once when it rained I walked with an open umbrella across a wide, heavily traveled, street. When I had finally reached the other side, I caught myself closing the umbrella.

BERGNER

And once when I — Please, help me. (She is still insecure.)

PORTEN

(Grabs her and wipes her face with the stole.) Once when I bent over a bouquet of carnations while there was a great deal of noise around me, I couldn’t smell anything at first.

BERGNER

Once while I wanted to put a tablecloth over … (She cannot think of the word and becomes afraid again.) Help me, please.

PORTEN

(Speaks now very distinctly to set an example.) Once I walked down a stairway and had such an urge to let myself fall that out of fear I began to run as soon as I had reached the bottom.

BERGNER

(Breathes a sigh of relief.) Once I wanted to put a tablecloth over a table, I was with my thoughts (She neatly points to the picture.) at the seashore and caught myself shaking the tablecloth as if wanting to wave with it.

(They embrace, then dance around while they put the coins and cosmetics into the handbag. They talk and move more and more lightheartedly.)

PORTEN

Why “caught”? Why not: “I saw myself,” “I noticed”?

BERGNER

I saw myself! I noticed myself! I heard myself!

(They stand facing one another.)

PORTEN

Someone keeps looking over his shoulder while he’s walking. Does he have a guilty conscience?

BERGNER

No, he simply looks over his shoulder from time to time.

PORTEN

Someone is sitting there with lowered head. Is he sad?

BERGNER

(Assumes a modeling pose for her reply.) No, he simply sits there with lowered head.

PORTEN

Someone is flinching. Conscience-stricken?

BERGNER

(Answers in another modeling pose.) No, he’s simply flinching.

PORTEN

Two people sit there, don’t look at each other, and are silent. Are they angry with one another?

BERGNER

(Delivers her sentence in a new pose.) No, they simply sit there, don’t look at each other, and are silent!

PORTEN

Someone bangs on the table. To get his way?

BERGNER

(In a different pose.) Couldn’t he for once simply bang on the table? (They run toward each other with a little yelp of joy, embrace and separate again at once, looking at one another tensely. BERGNER points to GEORGE.) He’s polishing the cutlery and putting it on display on a red cloth. Does he want to sell it? (PORTEN is standing there with arms hanging down, only shakes her head briefly. GEORGE, feeling as if released, now begins to polish the utensils lightheartedly. BERGNER points to JANNINGS, saying simultaneously) He turns his back on us, sits in the most comfortable fauteuil. Does that mean he’s more powerful than all of us? (PORTEN looks into her eyes and only shakes her head briefly. JANNINGS stretches himself, relieved, in his fauteuil, obviously delighted to have lost his significance. BERGNER points with her head to VON STROHEIM.) He’s sitting alone in the corner on a big sofa. Does he want to tell us that we should sit down next to him? (PORTEN now merely smiles as one does about something that has turned out to be a dream. VON STROHEIM also forgets himself, smiles amiably, and is obviously relaxing.) And the mirror over there?

JANNINGS

(Gets up and strolls toward the women.) It’s quite a simple mirror.

GEORGE

(Joins in.) Perhaps there’s a flyspeck on it!

BERGNER

And why can’t the drawer be pulled out of the chest?

JANNINGS

(Hesitates just slightly.) It’s stuck.

BERGNER

And why is it stuck?

VON STROHEIM

(Jumps off the sofa.) Let it be stuck!

GEORGE

Yes, let it be stuck!

GEORGE and VON STROHEIM

(Skip and dance toward each other, lifting their legs like dancing bears.) Let it be stuck!

JANNINGS

(Joins them.) Let it be stuck! Let it be stuck!

GEORGE, VON STROHEIM, JANNINGS

(The three dance around one another.) Let it be stuck, the drawer! The drawer, oh, let it be stuck! Let it, the drawer, let it, oh, let it be stuck! (They sing in unison.) Oh, let the drawer be stuck, oh, oh, let the drawer be stuck! (They stand still and sing the same words to the melody of “Whisky, Please Let Me Alone” in a canon with assigned voices, with a break in the middle, after an “Oh,” whereupon they all look at one another in silence, raise their index fingers, whereupon one of them continues singing an octave lower: “ … let the drawer be stuck!” whereupon the other two voices also join in one by one, also an octave lower, and they finish the song in harmony. They all look at one another gravely and tenderly.) We are free? We are free! (Pell-mell) We only dreamed all that! Did we only dream all that? What? I have already forgotten! And I’m just noticing how I’m forgetting! I’m standing quite still and am myself observing how I gradually forget. I’m trying to remember, but as I’m trying to remember, I notice that it sinks down lower and lower, it is as if I had swallowed something, and with each attempt to regurgitate it, it slips down lower and lower. It is sinking and you loom more and more. Where have you been, I was looking for you?! Who are you? Do I know you? (They embrace, bend their heads toward one another, hide them, rub them together, caress each other with heads and hands. They separate and busy themselves lightheartedly with the objects: touch them, press them to their bodies, lean playfully against them, prop them up, cradle them in their arms, bring two objects into contact as for an embrace, pinch, pat, and caress them, wipe dust off them, remove hairs from them … While doing so, they sigh, hum, giggle, laugh, trill … Only once they become briefly uncertain and quiet: one of the women stands leaning against the bannister, her face turned away and her shoulders twitching. After an anxious moment, one of the men walks up to her and turns her timidly around; she is laughing quietly, and by and by they all become merry again.

At one time one of the men walks from an end of the stage toward the others, who are just walking toward him. He walks as if they will collide, but just when one seems to see them collide he feints with his body and steps elegantly aside. He does that across the entire stage. The other men imitate him, walk toward the women and skirt them elegantly before walking on in the same direction; the three men avoid objects the same way. They are delighted with one another, and the women laugh.

One of them turns a cartwheel; the other leaps merrily over an obstacle over which he could have simply stepped; the third elegantly demonstrates a gesture with his lower arm by lifting the arm and quickly bending the elbow, letting, as if by magic, the sleeve slip to the elbow. He repeats this several times, finally with the same movement giving himself playfully a light.

At last, quite as a matter of course, one after the other sits down by the table, the women in the fauteuils with footstools, VON STROHEIM in the fauteuil without footstool, JANNINGS in the easy chair, GEORGE in the straight chair. As in an afterimage they still hint at their previous playful acts, still repeat what they said to one another.) I forgot myself completely. “I”? We! We forgot ourselves.

(Finally they calm down. Only BERGNER is still playing with her handbag and does not know where to put it.)

VON STROHEIM

Why don’t you leave it on your lap?

JANNINGS

Having something on your lap is most pleasant.

GEORGE

(It occurred to him simultaneously.) … something on your lap is most pleasant. (They laugh.) In your lap you have the most pleasant feeling for something.

PORTEN

(It occurred to her too, but a little later.) In your lap you have the most pleasant feeling for something. (They all laugh. BERGNER cautiously puts the handbag on her lap, and with little wiggling movements puts herself into a comfortable position in the fauteuil. She emits a small sound.

All of them try what it is like to have things on one’s lap, are satisfied, and put the things back in their places. PORTEN shows her naked arm to VON STROHEIM.) You see, I’ve got goose pimples.

VON STROHEIM

Are you … Do you feel — (He stops in time.) So you have goose pimples, do you? (He laughs.)

(All laugh as if it were an unpleasant memory.)

PORTEN

Yes, I simply have goose pimples.

(Pause. JANNINGS pulls something out of his upholstered seat. He holds it up and shows it to GEORGE. At the same time, as if unintentionally, with the index finger of the other hand he elongates one eye. GEORGE ignores that, bends toward what JANNINGS has in his hand.)

VON STROHEIM

(Also turns his head toward JANNINGS. In a playful mood) You have something there. What is it? Nothing special, I assume? Nothing worth mentioning, I hope. There’s no need to talk about it, is there?

(BERGNER and PORTEN turn their heads slightly too, but look away again immediately.)

JANNINGS

A pin. (They all look at it, as though surprised.)

VON STROHEIM

A pin? You don’t mean “the pin”?

JANNINGS

The very one.

PORTEN

And it really exists? It isn’t merely a figure of speech?

JANNINGS

Here, see for yourself.

(He hands the pin to GEORGE, who hands it to VON STROHEIM very matter-of-factly, who hands it to PORTEN.)

PORTEN

It has all turned out to be true. Not even the ruby-red pinhead is missing. It has all come true.

VON STROHEIM

Did you dream about it?

PORTEN

Someone mentioned it in the dream. (She hands the pin to BERGNER.) When I saw the pin just now, I remembered it again. And I had thought it was also only just another word.

GEORGE

Once someone told me about a corpse with a pinhead-sized wound on his neck. (Pause.) (To JANNINGS) Did you tell me about that?

JANNINGS

I can’t remember. But when you started telling the story, it seemed familiar to me, too.

GEORGE

No, it was a movie. (Pause.) It was thundering and at the same time fog banks on the village street …

BERGNER

Should I drop it?

(They all become quiet and do not move. She drops the pin.)

GEORGE

(Negates the effect by speaking again too soon.) Children with lumps of plaster on their eyes — (He breaks off, but it is already too late. However, they only smile, leave the pin where it fell.)

VON STROHEIM

I already told you the story about the lake?

PORTEN

No.

(He looks at BERGNER: she shakes her head tenderly.)

JANNINGS

(Simultaneously) No.

VON STROHEIM

Then I probably only thought of it.

PORTEN

Does it have anything to do with the pin?

VON STROHEIM

I was sitting by a lakeshore in the morning and the lake was sparkling. Suddenly I noticed: the lake is sparkling. It is really sparkling.

(Pause.)

PORTEN

Something similar happened to me one time when someone told me that his pockets were empty. “My pockets are empty!” I didn’t believe him and he turned his pockets inside out. They really were empty. Incredible!

(GEORGE takes a cigar out of the cigar box, then offers the box to JANNINGS, who takes out a cigar. GEORGE strikes a match and hands it to JANNINGS; he lights his cigar and blows out the match. GEORGE lights himself another match.

VON STROHEIM takes the red cloth from the table, jumps up with it, walks around with it, shakes it as if he wants to demonstrate it to them. They bend forward, inspect. VON STROHEIM looks around triumphantly. They nod, shake their heads surprised, laugh with delight, slap their thighs with laughter. Exclamations such as “A red cloth, indeed!” “No doubt about it!” “Lupus in fabula,” “Talk of the devil!” “Atlantis has reappeared!”

VON STROHEIM stands in front of the others like a magician. He turns all his pockets inside out very fast — the pockets are very wide and light-colored — and strikes a pose. PORTEN applauds vigorously. VON STROHEIM, as magician, takes off his smoking jacket in a jiffy, turns it over, and already has put it back on.)

JANNINGS

(Enthusiastically) So it is true! (VON STROHEIM produces a small imitation of a rolling pin out of his pocket, which is now the magician’s pocket. JANNINGS exclaiming so that the cigar drops out of his mouth) Not only in jokes then! (GEORGE hands him the cigar. JANNINGS wipes the ash off his knees, stops suddenly, notices what he is doing, continues cleaning in a merry ritual.) Ash on my suit! When I tell about that, no one will believe me. (They all laugh. VON STROHEIM conjures up the magician’s magic cloth, a flag in colors that do not signify a particular country. He blows briskly on the flag, making it flutter.) Indeed, it flutters! The flag flutters! (VON STROHEIM stashes the things into his pockets, becomes an actor: he walks to the bar, takes out a bottle, fondles it, then supports himself backward with one hand on the table. JANNINGS calmly translates this for GEORGE.) He is fondling the bottle and supporting himself with his hand on the table. (VON STROHEIM moves to the side of the table, dangles the bottle by the neck, and begins to squint. JANNINGS to GEORGE) He is holding the bottle by the neck and squinting. (VON STROHEIM puts the bottle back and moves through the room with hunched shoulders, making an unnecessarily wide curve around each object but at the same time scrutinizing each.) He hunches his shoulders, looks at the objects, yet makes a curve around them.

VON STROHEIM

(Returns to the table. As a teacher) And now to the practical application: someone fondles an object or leans against it?

GEORGE

The proprietor.

VON STROHEIM

Someone moves with hunched shoulders among objects, makes a curve around them?

GEORGE

The guest.

VON STROHEIM

Someone who is squinting holds an object in his hand?

GEORGE

The thief.

JANNINGS

Someone fondles an object because it belongs to him. Because someone fondles an object, does it belong to him?

VON STROHEIM

Unless you prove the opposite.

JANNINGS

Someone with an object in his hand begins to squint. Because he has stolen it?

VON STROHEIM

Unless he proves his innocence.

JANNINGS

Someone suddenly puckers up his mouth and nose. (He shows how.) Because he’s afraid and a coward?

VON STROHEIM

Unless his actions prove the opposite.

JANNINGS

But if there’s nothing to do?

VON STROHEIM

What else would he be afraid of?

JANNINGS

I don’t understand that.

VON STROHEIM

What you’re sitting on is an easy chair, isn’t it?

JANNINGS

Yes.

VON STROHEIM

Or is it perhaps a life preserver? (JANNINGS laughs at this extraordinary suggestion.) It seems just as ridiculous to you when I claim that you are sitting on a life preserver as it would to claim that someone’s mouth and nose pucker up (He imitates it.) because he feels like doing something.

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

But an easy chair is an easy chair, and an expression (He makes one.) is an expression. How can the two be compared?

VON STROHEIM

I will demonstrate to you how one can. (Pause. They all wait. Pause. VON STROHEIM suddenly) What do you have in your mouth? (JANNINGS quickly takes the cigar out of his mouth and puts it out. VON STROHEIM smiles.) Why is your collar button open? (JANNINGS nimbly closes his collar button.) You are so serious?

(JANNINGS laughs resoundingly. Pause. Quiet. Pause.)

JANNINGS

(Softly) You have something on your nose.

VON STROHEIM

(Is about to wipe it off, hesitates, softly) You’ve understood?

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

(Suddenly loud) You’re just standing there, please hand me the bottle. (VON STROHEIM plays along, hands him the bottle.) No, not that one, the other one! (He points.) No, not that one, one can’t ask for anything any more. Yes, that’s the one! (But he hands the bottle back to him at once.) Put it back in its place!

VON STROHEIM

(Like a teacher who is playing a student) Why?

JANNINGS

Because you took it from its place. (VON STROHEIM nods, puts the bottle back.) No, not there. Back in its place, I said. Over there, right.

VON STROHEIM

Why precisely there?

JANNINGS

Because that’s where it stood before. (VON STROHEIM nods.) Give me another bottle.

VON STROHEIM

Why?

JANNINGS

Because you gave me a bottle once before.

VON STROHEIM

That’s perfect! (He hands him the bottle.)

JANNINGS

You’re standing? (VON STROHEIM wants to sit down on a sofa.) Back in your place! (VON STROHEIM sits down in his place. Playfully JANNINGs assigns the following roles: he hits the bottle neck with a teaspoon: GEORGE gets up. JANNINGS without looking at him) Cartwheels! (GEORGE stands there.)

VON STROHEIM

(Prompts him.) Why?

GEORGE

Why?

JANNINGS

Because you did a cartwheel before! (Pause. GEORGE turns a cartwheel. JANNINGS hands him the magazine. GEORGE does not yet understand this language; he doesn’t know what to do with the magazine, glances into it.) Hand it on.

GEORGE

Why?

JANNINGS

Didn’t you also hand on the pin before? (Pause. GEORGE hands the magazine to VON STROHEIM; he gives it back to GEORGE as if the pages were mixed up. GEORGE understands: he arranges the pages and hands the magazine back to VON STROHEIM, who puts it on the table. JANNINGS pulls the second red cloth from under the cutlery on the table and lets it drop. He points to it with the spoon. Pause.) Well?

GEORGE

Why?

JANNINGS

Didn’t you just do a cartwheel?

GEORGE

But how can you compare the two?

JANNINGS

For whom, then, did you do the cartwheel?

GEORGE

For you—(He hesitates.)

JANNINGS

“Of course” you wanted to say, right?

GEORGE

For you, of course.

JANNINGS

If you can do a cartwheel for me, you can also pick up a cloth for me.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

(Wants to bend down for the cloth, hesitates.) But what if I don’t want to?

JANNINGS

Now it’s too late for that. All the time you did as I asked you to and never said anything. You were content until now or you would have said something. So why should you be dissatisfied now? You didn’t contradict me at any time. Why should you be allowed to contradict me now? No, what you utter now doesn’t count any more. Do as I say! (Pause. GEORGE picks up the cloth, wants to hand it to JANNINGS, who doesn’t even bother to extend his hand, hesitates, lets it drop again “as if his hand has fallen asleep.” Pause. JANNINGS in a sensible tone of voice) Look at the others. (He turns his head to VON STROHEIM, then to PORTEN. VON STROHEIM goes at once with the guitar — which he takes out of the bag while walking — up to BERGNER, sits down behind her and quaintly strikes two soft chords. PORTEN sits down on JANNINGS’S knees and makes herself comfortable.) If they do as they’re told — why don’t you too?

(Pause.)

GEORGE

But why do they do it?

JANNINGS

First obey. Then we can talk about it. (Pause. GEORGE hands him the cloth, which JANNINGS places picturesquely around PORTEN’S shoulders, and ties under her chin. To her) Well? (She kisses him without moving her head.) Now ask!

GEORGE

Why do they do that? Why do they listen to you?

(VON STROHEIM strikes another quaint chord.)

JANNINGS

Because it is natural to them. They did it once without my saying anything while they were half asleep, or because it just happened like that. Then I said it and they did it again. Then they asked me: “May I do that for you?” and I said: “You shall!” And from then on they did it without my having to say anything. It had become the custom. I could point my foot at something and they would jump and get it. Nothing but laws of nature. People began to socialize with one another and it became the rule.

BERGNER

(On cue, as though talking in her sleep) How are you; I’m fine, thanks. (She sighs.)

JANNINGS

An order resulted; and for people to continue to socialize with one another, this order was made explicit: it was formulated. And once it had been formulated, people had to stick to it because, after all, they had formulated it. That’s natural, isn’t it? Say something! No, don’t say anything, I am speaking now. Don’t touch that, it’s mine! (He pushes a candlestick away.) Don’t dare to stare at it, it’s my property! What was I talking about? Help me! No, don’t say anything. About the laws of nature. (He takes an ashtray into his hand, then lets it drop.) Just as this ashtray obeys the law of gravity, so you obey me. Well? (He points with his foot; GEORGE puts the ashtray back on the table.) You see? Do you believe me now? No, don’t answer, I’ll answer for you. Yes, that business with the ashtray and the force of gravity is true enough, I can imagine your answer to be. Do you know what the difference is between you and me? (GEORGE laughs as though before a joke.) No, no joke: I can imagine you sometimes, you must imagine me always. Why aren’t you laughing? By the way, this reminds me of a real joke: what’s the man’s name who invented the chair? Well? Nothing? I’ll help you. What’s the man’s name who invented the Zeppelin? (Pause. He laughs invitingly.) You’re not laughing. O.K.! But I’ll make a note of it. Where was I? Hadn’t I asked you to remind me what else I wanted to talk about? Didn’t I see you nod? Then I only imagined that I saw you nod. Once I thought of a conversation I had with someone, and I remembered distinctly how he’d smiled when he answered me, and then it occurred to me that I had been talking to him on the telephone! The laws of nature! The trains! The ocean! He stood where you’re standing now! (GEORGE, startled, steps aside; JANNINGS bursts out laughing, again drops the ashtray.) I’d like to pick it up for you, but I have to stick to what I said (To PORTEN), don’t I? (She nods.) I can’t say something and then do the opposite of what I’ve said. Inconceivable! That would be a topsy-turvy world. Do you understand that? (PORTEN tries to reach backward for the ashtray.) Stop, that’s his job! (GEORGE puts the ashtray on the table, VON STROHEIM touches the guitar almost accidentally: a gentle chord.) So you understand. Just as the trains must obey a schedule so that there is no disorder, so you must obey me. That business with the trains and their schedule is probably true, you say? I dare you to tell me that! Keep quiet? Answer! (GEORGE wants to speak.) Forget it! Like a maggot that crawls across one’s palm — no, that belongs somewhere else. The ocean! What are you thinking of just now? You can’t say it? Then you’re not thinking of anything. I once lived for some time by the ocean, and since I lived there, in what categories would you guess I began to think? In the categories of low and high tide! And that’s how it is generally: (As though to the audience) the manner in which one thinks is determined by the laws of nature! (Again to GEORGE) For example, since I’ve started taking walks through the woods, I always think at the sight of the weak and the strong in terms of the laws of nature. And since I learned to read menus—(He pushes PORTEN from his knees and she goes quickly to the sofa, cuddles up on it, and he looks toward her.) — I think about women, whether I want to or not, in the categories of hors d’oeuvre and main dish. (She looks at him, but one rather feels the look than actually sees it.) She doesn’t want it differently — ask her yourself. She’ll show you how. (He snaps his fingers at her and she responds.)

BERGNER

(As though she had learned a few questions by heart) Do I talk too much for you? Are my knees too bony? Am I too heavy for you? Is my nose too big? Am I too sensible for you? Do you find me too loud? Are my breasts too small? Do you think I’m too fat? Am I too fast for you? Am I too skinny for you? Was I good?

JANNINGS

You see, she herself uses the categories in which one thinks of her. (To PORTEN) Hey! (She comes back and settles on his knees.) When I used to be called, to begin with I only said “yes!” After all, it was possible that they only wanted to know whether I was still there. Where were we? (GEORGE puts his hand to the back of his head, lowers the hand again.) Stop! Repeat that gesture! (GEORGE repeats it.) It reminds me of something. More slowly! (GEORGE repeats the gesture.) The hat! Do you know the song “Me Hat, It Has Three Corners”? It’s a folk song. (He recites it seriously.)

Me hat, it has three corners

Three corners has me hat

And if it hadn’t three corners

It wouldn’t be me hat.

Ever since I’ve known that song I am incapable of imagining a hat with it. A three-cornered hat: an impossible idea! A hat: an impossible, a forbidden idea! Once I ordered (or permitted?) a cake to be cut. “Where?” I was asked. Ever since then I’ve been unable to imagine a cake. You try drawing a circle in your mind but don’t know where to begin. Finally there’s a noise in the brain as if a boiling egg were popping. Quiet! Shut up! I can imagine what you want to say! The circle! I become dizzy when I’m supposed to imagine it! And when I become dizzy, I become furious. For example, someone asks me what time it is. Can you imagine that there’s someone who has no watch? I certainly can’t. Dizziness and anger! Or: a person looks “desperate,” starts all sorts of jobs but stops them all again at once. Can you imagine anyone still being seriously desperate? Dizziness! Dizziness and anger! Or someone is ashamed? Dizziness and anger, dizziness and anger! Then the contrary: someone is ashamed for someone else? I for you? At once! You cannot imagine that I’m ashamed for you? (He pushes the cigar box off the table so that all the cigars fall out, puts PORTEN in her fauteuil, stands in front of GEORGE, and claps his hands before GEORGE’s face, pretending to slap him, and sits down again.) Like chocolate and soap — yes, like chocolate that lies next to a piece of soap. I, at any event, have never felt ashamed — except for that time when I compared two feelings I had for someone to chocolate and soap. And then once more. (Pause.) And then the story about the maggot on the palm of the hand. (Pause.) And then once when I was asked: “Who is that?” and answered: “That one? Yes, she’s very touching, isn’t she?” (Pause.) Yes, and then one more time. (He laughs shamefully, remembering.) And then once when I said: “Present company excepted, naturally!” And another time when I heard someone say, “She’s ugly!” and replied: “But she has pretty eyes.” (Pause.) And then just the one more time when I put the matchbook on the counter and the salesman asked me: “Is that you?” (Pause; puzzled) Actually, I’ve been ashamed quite frequently. (Pause, to VON STROHEIM) Should I make him feel ashamed?

VON STROHEIM

(Strikes the body of the guitar and spreads his fingers.) Just so you aren’t put to shame by him!

JANNINGS

(Turns to GEORGE.) Look over here! (Successively he takes several objects from the table or out of his pocket and shows them to GEORGE. GEORGE looks helplessly at each of them. Finally JANNINGS shows him some paper money, waves it, and GEORGE quickly tries to grab it. JANNINGS laughs.) This language he understands! This language he understands! (He laughs again. Pause. They both bow their heads. JANNINGS scratches himself once vigorously. Suddenly he points angrily at the cigars.) What’s that?

GEORGE

Cigars.

JANNINGS

And what’s that supposed to mean? Pick them up! (GEORGE bends down. JANNINGS giggles.) Can you still imagine doing anything but what I tell you to? (GEORGE tries to imagine it. Finally he also starts giggling, but stops again and tries to think once more.) Imagine you’re sitting in my place. (GEORGE looks up at him. He begins to giggle. JANNINGS giggles too, but differently; he looks around himself. PORTEN is also giggling. VON STROHEIM is smiling. BERGNER is absentminded. GEORGE collects the cigars and puts them carefully back in the box. JANNINGS, while watching him, tells a story.) Once — (To PORTEN) Why are you grinning?

PORTEN

I’m not grinning, I’m smiling.

JANNINGS

Stop fidgeting!

PORTEN

I’m not fidgeting, I’m making myself comfortable.

JANNINGS

Shut your trap!

PORTEN

I don’t have a trap.

JANNINGS

(Has already turned back to his story.) … I had a bad day, you know how that is. (GEORGE nods.) I burned my tongue on the coffee; as I was tying my shoelaces, I suddenly had two pieces in my hand, you know what that’s like. (GEORGE nods.) Just as suddenly — why “just as suddenly”? What’s the difference! In any case, as I’m writing down what I plan to do, the tip of the pencil breaks off. I look for another pencil — no, not what you’re thinking: the pencil does write; however, all at once I noticed that overnight I’ve begun to write one letter differently from the way I used to, with a curlicue where I never before made a curlicue during my entire life! You know what that’s like. (GEORGE nods, but only after JANNINGS has looked at him.) To top it all, I suddenly see before me a woman trampling furiously on eggshells. I tear her away by the hair, you know what that’s like. But it turns out that she is purposely breaking up the shells for the birds. Dazed, I walked on and notice another madman. He’s running back and forth on a piece of land, and a crowd has already formed around him. Then it turns out that he isn’t mad at all but the owner of the land trying to keep people from trespassing. Even more dazed, I walk on and am thinking about a goose I’m in the process of carving up, very fastidiously, you know what I’m like, not to get any grease stains on my suit, when someone grabs me by the arm from behind. Despite, or just because of, my dazed state — (He smirks.) Whenever I say despite, I also must say, just because of—I swiveled around and gave this someone a box on the ear. My hand slipped; you know what that’s like: I thought someone with greasy fingers had grabbed me. Suddenly—yes, again suddenly, that day passed in leaps and bounds — I stood before a dog that squatted with quivering behind at the curb—quivering: I’ve never used that word before! — and wanted to do his business, you know what that’s like. I, no lazybones myself — (To GEORGE, who hesitates) Don’t let me stop you from your work — gave him a kick …

PORTEN

Don’t go on, please! I don’t want to have to dream about it.

GEORGE

Once my mind was on a child and a hot iron, and when I suddenly saw someone reaching for the door handle, I shouted at him: Don’t touch!

JANNINGS

You can talk and stack cigars evenly at one and the same time? (GEORGE continues to work in silence, JANNINGS goes on talking.) … and went home. Luckily the sun set very rapidly, as it always does in the tropics — that’s how it is described in all narratives, isn’t it? — and as I slowly open the door, there is a soft rustling behind it. (Slowly and softly generally belong together.) I immediately fired through the panel — and I myself had spread the papers on the floor to frighten the burglars when they’d open the door. A bad day! Later in my rocking chair I dozed off. Suddenly I awake and see the dog running past me. A quick slap with the riding crop — you know what that’s like? (GEORGE nods.) But it was my own feet: when I jerked awake, I took my black socks for the dog. (Pause.) You have nothing to say?

GEORGE

I feel no need to say anything.

JANNINGS

It’s enough that I feel the need to hear something from you.

GEORGE

But what if I feel the need to remain silent?

JANNINGS

Then you must say to yourself that in regard to your needs, what matters for you is to learn to need to do what you must do in any case. (Pause.) Say something!

(Pause.)

GEORGE

But what did you want to prove with the story? You didn’t tell the story just to tell a story?

JANNINGS

I told it so you would know what it is like when a whole day passes and one feels out of sorts.

GEORGE

Out of sorts with what?

JANNINGS

With one’s work.

GEORGE

You weren’t working at the time?

JANNINGS

I was working, but I felt out of sorts with my work.

GEORGE

And what is it like if one feels out of sorts with one’s work while one is working?

JANNINGS

I told you: a swift sunset, a rustling behind the door, strange dogs in the room.

GEORGE

And what is it like if one does not feel out of sorts with one’s work while one is working?

JANNINGS

It becomes a game.

GEORGE

And how do you manage not to feel out of sorts while you work?

JANNINGS

One must imagine that it’s a game.

GEORGE

And who determines the rules of the game?

JANNINGS

The one who plays it: the one who works.

GEORGE

Is it like that or does one have to imagine it?

JANNINGS

If you’re not out of sorts, it’s like that.

GEORGE

But if I feel out of sorts, then I first have to imagine it?

JANNINGS

If you feel out of sorts, you cannot imagine it. Instead: a swift sunset, a rustling behind the door …

GEORGE

But I feel out of sorts.

JANNINGS

I’ll show you. (He gets up and puts a cigar in the box with playful little movements, a finger dance. Then he sits down.) For me work is a game.

GEORGE

Well, it isn’t your work. But it is your thing. And it’s up to you to tell me how my work with your thing can be called a game. I who feel out of sorts — you’re right — cannot imagine it.

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

You must regard work like a bet: whoever is faster, more elegant, more thorough — then there are winners and losers.

GEORGE

But with whom am I supposed to bet when I’m by myself?

JANNINGS

With yourself.

GEORGE

Whether I’m faster than myself?

JANNINGS

No smart talk! You can’t allow yourself to be ironical until you’ve finished your work … Don’t you have two hands?

GEORGE

Obviously.

JANNINGS

Which hand is more nimble?

GEORGE

The right one, I suppose.

JANNINGS

Then make a bet with yourself and give it a try. (Pause. GEORGE starts putting cigars back in the box first with his left, then with his right hand. He becomes increasingly faster, gets into a frenzy. He has finished and puts the box on the table.) Which hand won?

GEORGE

(Remains silent. Speaks suddenly.) Let’s bet on something else.

JANNINGS

Fine, let’s make a bet.

GEORGE

(Points to PORTEN.) You turn her over your knee and spank her.

JANNINGS

And what’s the bet?

GEORGE

First turn her over your knee. (JANNINGS puts PORTEN over his knee.) You hit her with the riding crop as fast as you can for one minute. While doing so you keep your mouth shut. If you open it, you’ve lost.

JANNINGS

It’s a bet. (Pause. He starts beating her vigorously, but already after a few slaps his lips part. Startled, he lets go of her and sits down, pinches his lips tight. He wipes his forehead. GEORGE also sits down. Pause. VON STROHEIM touches the guitar as if by chance. A very gentle sound. He laughs. JANNINGS opens his mouth as if to roar and wants to hit the table. He shuts his mouth again instantly and lets his fist sink, opens his fingers.) I believe — (He breaks off; he wants to reach for something but stops in midair and lets his hand drop.)

GEORGE

(To PORTEN) You’d better imagine it all once more right now; then you won’t need to dream of it later on—

PORTEN

(Smiles.) Of water and of madness, of …

VON STROHEIM

(At the other end, wanted to say something at the same time.) I was so very …

(They both break off. Pause.)

PORTEN

(Turns again to GEORGE.) Of water and of madness, of ships of fools on great rivers where …

VON STROHEIM

(Again at the same time, to BERGNER) I was so very much afraid. I was so very much afraid for …

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

(Points to VON STROHEIM while looking at PORTEN.) It’s his turn.

(Pause.)

VON STROHEIM

(As in a game, to BERGNER) I was so very much afraid for you that I suddenly burst out laughing. You were sitting there and didn’t move. Only your jugular vein throbbed.

BERGNER

I haven’t been listening. (He bends over her, but so that she has to see his face upside down. She opens her eyes, a small cry of horror; he turns his head so that she sees his face normally again, and she calms down instantly and looks at the guitar.) Is that for me? (VON STROHEIM hesitates, hands it to her.) And what do I have to do for that? (She turns the guitar around as if it were a present, then hands it back. VON STROHEIM puts the guitar on the table. He strokes BERGNER’s neck with his finger. Pause. BERGNER slaps his hand.) Don’t touch me!

JANNINGS

(Prompts.) Why?

VON STROHEIM

Why don’t you want to be touched? You used to let people touch you.

BERGNER

Don’t look at me!

VON STROHEIM

A little while ago you looked at me tenderly.

BERGNER

Does that mean that I should “look at you tenderly” now, too? (VON STROHEIM posts himself in front of her. She looks away.) Every time you men begin to speak, it is as if a beggar is trying to talk to me.

VON STROHEIM

All of us men?

BERGNER

Yes, you too.

VON STROHEIM

Give me your hand.

BERGNER

Why? (He takes her hand.) Are you a palm reader? (VON STROHEIM strokes her hair.) I know that my hair is a mess.

VON STROHEIM

You are beautiful.

BERGNER

Have you seen my handbag anywhere?

VON STROHEIM

(Puts a necklace around her neck.) What do I get for that?

BERGNER

Why do you have to spoil my necklace for me?

VON STROHEIM

What must I do to make you stop despising me? Is it the way I move that you dislike? Is it my hairline? Is it the way I hold my head that makes you look away? Do the hairs on my hands disgust you? Do you find it exaggerated the way I move my arms up and down when I walk? Do I talk too much? (PORTEN, watching from some distance away, laughs. Pause. VON STROHEIM as on the telephone) Are you still there? (BERGNER looks at him.) Where were you? Why don’t you say something? Do say something! Come back! You were so beautiful, it was painful to look at you; so beautiful that I was suddenly very much afraid for you. You were so painfully beautiful that you left me behind — me, who was suddenly so alive — left me behind — terribly alone. You said nothing, and I talked to you as one talks to those who have just died: Why don’t you say something? Do say something! Can you imagine it?

(Pause.)

BERGNER

Not any more. For a moment — (Pause.) No. It’s over.

VON STROHEIM

Don’t stop talking, I am afraid to break in when you stop talking. Right now my tenderness for you is so vehement that I want to hit you.

(Pause. He hits her. She stands up. He stares at her. She lets him stare at her.

Abandoning the long rigidity, she moves slowly and walks up and down in front of him. She interrupts her smooth movements now and then to turn jerkily, leans her hand on the hip, stretches herself loosely, lets her arms drop, while moving like this, grazes a number of objects, supports herself everywhere, once swings around to VON STROHEIM, stops in front of him, takes off her necklace. She is standing there as if she has just come through a door and has leaned against it. She strokes him with the necklace and lets it drop into his pocket.)

BERGNER

(Looks at him.) Don’t move! (He wants to touch her, she stands still, smiling; he hesitates briefly, now touches her neck and wants to pull her toward him; but he is a moment too late, her neck resists him, she shakes off his hand and steps back.) Why don’t you look at me as if you didn’t care?

VON STROHEIM

For that I would have to imagine that you were mine.

BERGNER

Then imagine it.

VON STROHEIM

Where should I begin?

BERGNER

(Points to the guitar.) Does that belong to you? (She shoves it away contemptuously.)

VON STROHEIM

The longer I look at you, the ghostlier you seem to me.

BERGNER

And with every one of your feelings you describe to me you take a possible feeling away from me.

VON STROHEIM

I’m not describing my feelings for you.

BERGNER

But you’re intimating them. And every time you intimate your love for me, my feelings for you grow duller and I shrivel up. Your feelings move me, but I can’t respond to them, that’s all. At first I loved you, you were so serious. It struck me that usually it can be said only of a child that it is “serious.” Besides (She laughs.), you had such beautiful eating habits. You really ate beautifully! And when I once said, “I got wet to the skin!” you said, “To your skin!” When I speak of it I almost love you again. (She embraces him suddenly, but immediately steps back again even farther away.) But I only have to mention that and I become insensitive right away. You talked all the time and I forgot you more and more. Then I was startled and you were still there … A complete stranger, you talked to me with shameless intimacy, as to someone at the end of a movie. Do you understand? I am taboo for you! Suddenly I was taboo for you. Two seconds! Two seconds of pain, that’s what having loved you will mean to me later on. (Pause.) I’m not disappointed, I’m not sad, I’m only tired of you. (She moves imperceptibly under her dress.) I have wronged you so much.

VON STROHEIM

Wronged in what way?

BERGNER

The wrong of loving you.

(PORTEN suddenly claps her hands vehemently, GEORGE laughs offensively, VON STROHEIM and BERGNER slowly move away from the spot and begin to walk around aimlessly in different directions. Pause.)

JANNINGS

(Begins telling a story.) A short time ago I saw a stewardess, but an ugly one …

VON STROHEIM

(Interrupts him.) Let’s talk about something else.

JANNINGS

(Begins another story.) Not long ago I saw a woman standing in the street, not a streetwalker, I must add …

GEORGE

(Interrupts him.) Something else!

JANNINGS

It is less than a week ago that I saw behind a bank counter someone who had a rather long nose. But when I talked to him, it turned out that despite …

PORTEN and BERGNER

(Interrupt him.) Let’s change the subject.

JANNINGS

All right. No more than five minutes had passed when a man in the park approached me. No, not a faggot …

(He is interrupted by a girl who comes onstage from the right, a suitcase in her hand: ALICE KESSLER. She is wearing an afternoon dress and looks as if she had come to this performance by mistake.)

ALICE

(Puts down the suitcase, begins to speak very matter-of-factly.) Is it you? Am I in the right place here? I heard you talking from a distance and came in. The sounds I heard were so inviting, voices and laughter, what is more beautiful than that? What are you showing to each other there, I’d like to see something too. What are you whispering about? I’d like to hear something too. (She tosses her hat to VON STROHEIM. He is so disconcerted that he turns aside instead of catching it.) How are you? (Pause. All of them seem petrified.) How are you?

BERGNER

(Suddenly loosens up and moves. She practices her reply.) Fine? Fine. Fine! We’re fine. Indeed! We’re fine! (Pause. She tries to talk normally again.) And how — and how are you?

ALICE

(Answers quite naturally.) I’m fine too. Though my hand is still trembling from carrying that heavy suitcase, and I’m still a little weak in the knees because I’m not used to wearing high-heeled shoes; but I can put up with all that because I’m so happy to see you. What are you doing here?

BERGNER

(Is glad to be able to answer so simply.) We’re talking.

ALICE

And now you don’t know how to go on?

BERGNER

Perhaps. (She falters.) Yes. Yes!

ALICE

Hello!

BERGNER

Hello!

ALICE

(To the others) Hello! (They raise their heads, perplexed. As if awakening, still half asleep, not knowing yet what they are saying, they say one after the other: “Hello!” Then they comprehend what they have said and become lively. The stage light gradually turns into early-morning light again.) What time is it?

(GEORGE nudges JANNINGS in the hip.)

JANNINGS

(As if back to sleep already) Don’t you have a watch? (He gives a start.) “How late is it?” Of course: how late is it? Well, how late is it now? You could have said so right away. (He opens his pocket watch in front of ALICE.)

ALICE

Thanks! (He shuts the watch again.)

JANNINGS

(After a pause.) Don’t mention it. (He spreads his arms wide as if he just found a solution and plays with the answer.) Don’t mention it! (To GEORGE) Ask me what time it is.

GEORGE

(Merrily) What time is it? (JANNINGS shows him the pocket watch.) Thanks!

JANNINGS

(Shuts the watch.) Don’t mention it.

GEORGE

(Merrily) Thanks!

JANNINGS

(Cheerfully) But I insist: don’t mention it!

(ALICE holds out her hand to JANNINGS. He shakes it instantly. She also holds out her hand to GEORGE and he shakes it instantly. She holds out her hand to PORTEN and PORTEN shakes it gratefully. VON STROHEIM understands too and takes her hand.

Now she takes off her gloves and everyone watches very inquisitively. She hands them to VON STROHEIM and he takes them. He now picks up the hat and tosses it playfully to GEORGE. GEORGE catches the hat and puts it on the table. VON STROHEIM adds the gloves to it. Everything is working well. BERGNER sits down, apparently relieved.)

ALICE

(To VON STROHEIM) What do you have there in your hand?

VON STROHEIM

(Opens his fist.) A necklace. Yes, a necklace!

ALICE

It’s beautiful!

A VOICE

(From the wings) It’s not beautiful.

(ELLEN KESSLER now appears from the left, also with a suitcase, dressed exactly like ALICE. She tosses VON STROHEIM her hat, then takes off her gloves and hands them to him.)

VON STROHEIM

(Puts the things on the table and asks ELLEN) So you would like to have it?

ALICE

(Replies) Yes.

(He turns to ALICE and puts the necklace around her neck. She moves voluptuously.

ELLEN begins to walk around. She walks about with the same movements as ALICE did before. Shakes hands with everyone and says: “Hello!” They answer her — at least, the first two do — after an initial pause; then they laugh at each other as over a joke. Behind her back GEORGE takes a cigar out of the box and shows it to JANNINGS; then he takes out a second one; they laugh silently; finally GEORGE shows JANNINGS a third cigar, JANNINGS becomes serious and looks to the left and right, but no one else appears.

In the meantime, ELLEN taps VON STROHEIM on the shoulder to greet him. He is talking to ALICE.)

VON STROHEIM

Why is it that I’m so sure I’ve seen you before whenever I look at you, although when I actually say it (He turns to ELLEN, since she has tapped him on the shoulder, and continues talking to her as if it were quite normal), it strikes me as the usual cliche? (ELLEN holds out her hand to him and he bends over it. She shies back, and ALICE says, “He bit me!” remaining motionless, while ELLEN performs the appropriate gestures. VON STROHEIM to ALICE) In my imagination I was about to pinch myself in the arm.

ALICE

(Motionless.) Already forgotten.

VON STROHEIM

Already forgotten?

ALICE

You always ask. Were you alone too long?

VON STROHEIM

Why?

ELLEN

Or did you work too hard?

VON STROHEIM

Why?

ALICE

Or do you pose counterquestions only to win time for your reply? Because you’re figuring out a lie? Because in the meantime you’re so washed up that you can’t answer any more without lying? I came in quietly and you all sat there looking washed up, but you looked at me as though you had been quiet until then, and I, by entering so suddenly, should actually be the one to look washed up.

VON STROHEIM

What are you talking about?

ELLEN

About you. I only wanted to show you how you talk.

(She leans against his back, shoves one leg between his. He looks down at himself. She puts her arms around his neck. ALICE waves to him with a finger. ELLEN doubles the gesture by holding her hands to his face from the back and also bending a finger. He wants to take a step forward, and lean back at the same time, but remains standing there.)

VON STROHEIM

I’ll talk as I please.

(ELLEN puts her hand over his eyes.)

ALICE

Then say something.

VON STROHEIM

(Opens his mouth and shuts it. He moves his hands as if he were looking for something that keeps eluding him. He stammers, but whenever his hand seems to seize something, he produces whole syllables: “be, what, un, re”; then he reaches for it and it escapes him again, and he goes on stammering. ELLEN takes her hands away from his eyes and he calms down instantly.) I can’t; it’s like reaching for a piece of soap under water.

ALICE

What?

VON STROHEIM

Already forgotten. When you covered my eyes, I had it perfectly clear in front of me, but now I have forgotten it. (He falters.) “Already forgotten!” That was it! You said, “Already forgotten!” and I remembered something, but what? It escaped me again and again, and I had a feeling like searching for a piece of soap under water — (He makes a perfunctory gesture, suddenly sniffs his fingers, repeats the gesture. Pause.)

ELLEN

Perhaps you’ll think of it …

ALICE

… if you watch me?

ELLEN

(With a flattering voice, ambiguously.) Perhaps, if you watch me, you’ll also remember where you put me—(She laughs.) where you carried me to — (She laughs.) in those days, do you remember? — (She laughs.) and you’ll also remember what you should do with me now. (She laughs. Because ELLEN stands behind him, one does not see her talking, although ALICE moves her lips and makes the appropriate gestures.)

(They let him stand there and skip and dance across the stage side by side. With a fervent pleasure in their work, nearly parallel in their movements, they busy themselves with the objects and with the people: while one takes off JANNINGS’S boots, the other is loosening GEORGE’S shoelaces: finished at the same time, they begin to brush PORTEN’S and BERGNER’S hair; again they finish at the same time and skip over to the open drawer of the chest; they return with four fancy cushions and stuff them, running helter-skelter but with similar movements, behind the backs of the four people. There is hardly time to perceive these actions when they are already back at the table with four glasses and two bottles and they place them before the characters.

But now their movements slow down and begin to contradict each other; the work of the one is revoked by the other: one takes the glasses and bottles which the other has placed there away again; one dishevels the hair the other has just brushed; then one takes away the cushions from the persons to whom the other has given them. At the same time the other removes the bottles and the glasses that the one … Then one ties the shoelaces the other has untied, while the other in the meantime is taking away the cushions from … whereupon the one dishevels the hair that … while the other puts JANNINGS’S boots back on.

However, they stop at the same time and want to run offstage quickly in opposite. directions; they return once more and change directions, finally run into the wings. As soon as they have disappeared, they cannot be heard running any more.

Everyone onstage is holding his breath. Suddenly, out of their state of complete immobilization, JANNINGS and GEORGE leap up and rush to the suitcases that have been left onstage. They fling them into the wings after ELLEN and ALICE, but no crashing sound can be heard. They listen. Then they stop listening. While they are returning to their places, PORTEN suddenly leaps up too and throws the remaining things, hats and gloves, into the wings after the girls, tossing the hats as if they were gloves, letting the gloves sail through the air as if they were hats. One hears them crashing like suitcases.

They all settle in their places.)

PORTEN

Goo — (as in good)

(The others turn instantly to BERGNER.)

PORTEN

I’m speaking. (They turn awkwardly to her. BERGNER seems to have fallen asleep.) Hello!

GEORGE

(A little too late.) Hello!

PORTEN

(A little too late.) How are you?

GEORGE

(A little too late.) Fine. (A little too late.) And how are you?

PORTEN

(A little too late.) Fine — Please hand me the paper.

(A brief pause. Only then does GEORGE hand her the newspaper from the table. She holds it in her hand. Pause. Only then does she look into it.)

GEORGE

Is there anything in it?

(Pause.)

PORTEN

(As though she had answered immediately) I’m just looking. (Pause. She puts the paper away.)

GEORGE

Give me the paper. (Pause. Then she gives him the paper, but does so as if she had given it to him at once. GEORGE opens it, looks at it only after an interval. Pause. Then he exclaims as if he had seen the picture on first glance.) Ice floes!

(Pause.)

PORTEN

(Lively) Really? (Pause.) How much do you weigh?

(Pause.)

GEORGE

Two hundred eighteen pounds.

(Pause.)

PORTEN

O God!

(Pause.)

JANNINGS

(Shakes his head. He hesitates and looks at GEORGE.) Why are you shaking your head? Do you want to contradict me?

GEORGE

I am neither shaking my head nor would I, even if I shook my head, thereby want to contradict you.

PORTEN

(To JANNINGS) You were shaking your head yourself.

JANNINGS

That was me?

VON STROHEIM

That was you.

JANNINGS

(Looks to GEORGE.) Who is speaking?

VON STROHEIM

I am.

JANNINGS

(To VON STROHEIM) That was you?

GEORGE

Yes.

JANNINGS

(To GEORGE) You’re talking?

GEORGE

Are you dreaming?

JANNINGS

Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell?

Sleeping or waking, mad or well-advised?

Known unto these, and to myself disguised:

Am I transformed, master, am not I?

(Pause. To GEORGE) Do you have a match?

GEORGE

Yes.

(Pause. JANNINGS points with his finger on the table, but the others look at his finger. At last he looks at his finger too and lets his hand drop. Pause. VON STROHEIM wants to pull out the red cloth.)

JANNINGS

(Sees it and screams) No! (VON STROHEIM puts it away again instantly. Pause. PORTEN begins to laugh, becomes quiet immediately. GEORGE looks at her questioningly, she only shakes her head. Pause.) Let us pray to God.

PORTEN

(Instantly) My candy.

BERGNER

(In her sleep) There’s a rat in the kitchen.

(Pause.)

VON STROHEIM

(Reaches into the cigar box. He asks) May I take one? (They look at him, he pulls back his hand. He asks once more) May I take a cigar? (And already extends his hand. They look at him and he pulls back his hand. With arms pressed to his sides, he asks once more) May I take one? (No one looks at him and he takes a cigar. PORTEN gives him the ashtray.)

GEORGE

(To PORTEN) Thank you.

PORTEN

Why are you thanking me?

GEORGE

Because that would have been my job.

(Long pause. GEORGE lifts up the teapot and puts it down again.)

JANNINGS

(Upbraids him.) What do you mean by that?

GEORGE

(Pulls in his head. Pause. He takes out a piece of chocolate candy, removes the silver foil, and eats the candy. After he has consumed it, he asks PORTEN) Or did you want a piece of it? (She doesn’t replay. He stares into the paper.) Just now I read the word snowstorm, and now I can’t find it any more!

(All stare into the paper. Pause.)

VON STROHEIM

(To PORTEN) Do you have the number 23-32-322?

PORTEN

No, I have the number 233-23-22. (Brief pause.) In my neighborhood there is a shopping center with stores, restaurants, and …

VON STROHEIM

A movie house?

PORTEN

Why? (Pause.) I once attended a going-out-of-business sale …

GEORGE

And everyone screamed, ran around, and turned over the furniture?

PORTEN

No. They — Yes! They turned over the furniture, screamed, and ran around! (She looks at him happily, becomes serious again instantly. Suddenly delighted, to VON STROHEIM) 23-32-322? Yes, that is my number. (Pause. She looks at GEORGE for a long time.)

GEORGE

Why do you look at me like that?

PORTEN

I’m afraid I might not be able to recognize you again. (She was serious when she began her reply but ended it as a joke. She cuddles her head against her shoulder. Pause. GEORGE lowers his head.) Hey!

GEORGE

(Shouts at her.) What kind of a feeling do you have? (He comes to his senses and asks her again kindly) I wanted to ask you: what kind of feelings do you have?

PORTEN

Too many of them.

JANNINGS

In those days the grass smelled of dog piss before the thunderstorm.

PORTEN

Who’s saying that?

JANNINGS

I?

PORTEN

I see. (She continues at once.) As a child, if I wanted to have something, I always had to say first what it was called.

GEORGE

(Wants to say something.) And I …

VON STROHEIM

(Irritated) Yes, people showed me something and then walked away with it — (Contemplatively) And I had to follow and get it for myself.

GEORGE

(Wants to say something.) And I …

VON STROHEIM

Or people simply opened the drawer in which the thing was and went away.

GEORGE

(To VON STROHEIM) And so that I could learn to get my Way — (VON STROHEIM looks away. GEORGE turns to JANNINGS.) I was shoved toward the objects that someone had taken from me. (JANNINGS looks away and GEORGE turns to PORTEN.) I was supposed to get them back myself.

PORTEN

(Remembering) Yes! How I fidgeted then!

VON STROHEIM

(While looking away, speaks to JANNINGS, who is clearing his throat.) You were about to say something?

JANNINGS

No.

(Pause.)

GEORGE

How strange! (With this exclamation he wants to call attention to himself, but no one turns to him. Instead, PORTEN winks at JANNINGS, who thereupon puts a finger to his lips and shakes his head. VON STROHEIM then bends forward and elongates an eye with one finger. This time attention is paid to the sign: as a reply JANNINGS pulls his mouth apart with two fingers; thereupon VON STROHEIM turns up the lapel of his jacket by grasping it conspicuously with thumb and little finger, and JANNINGS nods twice. PORTEN, VON STROHEIM, and JANNINGS laugh.) Strange!

PORTEN

(Asks him almost reluctantly) What’s strange?

GEORGE

(Relieved) Suddenly I remembered a hill I had climbed with someone and the cloud shadows that appeared and vanished.

PORTEN

And what’s strange about that?

GEORGE

That I should remember it so spontaneously.

PORTEN

(Cleans her eye as if he had spit at her during his discourse. Very hostile) Put your paper there away.

GEORGE

It’s not my paper.

PORTEN

(Snaps the paper away.) And move your cup away from there. (She snaps her fingers against the cup so that it turns over.)

GEORGE

It isn’t my cup.

PORTEN

And spare me your recollections. (She instantly continues kindly to YON STROHEIM) Do you know the expression “To mention the noose in the house of the man who’s been hanged”?

(JANNINGS laughs, VON STROHEIM smiles.)

GEORGE

Why are you so hostile?

PORTEN

And why are you so pale?

GEORGE

I’m not pale!

PORTEN

And I’m not hostile! (She continues at once.) Do you know the expression “To place one’s hands on one’s head”?

GEORGE

(Looks at JANNINGS; then replies.) Certainly.

PORTEN

Why do you look at him before answering?

GEORGE

It’s a habit.

PORTEN

Put your hands on your head. (He hesitates.) Did you hear what I said?

GEORGE

(Again first looks at JANNINGS.) I’m still thinking about it.

PORTEN

But the expression exists, doesn’t it?

(GEORGE slowly places his hands on his head.)

VON STROHEIM

(Is playing along.) Put your hands on the table.

GEORGE

(Tests whether the sentence exists.) “Put your hands on the table.” (Relieved) Yes. (He puts his hands on the table.)

PORTEN

Make your hands into fists and caress me!

GEORGE

(Tests the sentence.) “Make your hands into fists and caress me!?” No!

VON STROHEIM

Hand me the cup.

(GEORGE hands him the cup unthinkingly.)

PORTEN

I’ll show you something (She smiles at VON STROHEIM as her initiate and starts searching in her clothes. Eventually GEORGE stretches out his hand while she is still looking. Now and then she looks at his hand and continues to search. Suddenly she hits his hand and shoves it away. Maliciously) That’s what I wanted to show you.

(He writhes and draws in his head. All at once she covers her eyes with both hands and shudders.)

GEORGE

(Startled) What’s the matter?

PORTEN

(Takes her hands from her eyes.) Oh, it’s nothing. (GEORGE wants to reach for the cup that VON STROHEIM has put down in the meantime, but VON STROHEIM displaces it a little and GEORGE withdraws his hand. They repeat this maneuver several times, both displaying a lot of patience. PORTEN interrupts the game; very hostile to GEORGE) Who are you? (GEORGE gets up quickly and assumes a pose behind the table as if his picture were about to be taken.) Now I remember. You’re the salesman. You gave me the … (She puts the riding crop on the table. She makes a slip of the tongue.) How much is it?

GEORGE

Riding crop.

PORTEN

Yes, that’s want I wanted to ask too. You sold me the riding crop.

(GEORGE sits down, PORTEN again puts her hands over her eyes and shudders. She pushes the riding crop away.)

JANNINGS

Don’t you like it any more?

PORTEN

No, I only pushed it away.

JANNINGS

(In a disguised voice) The riding crop on the table, that means: someone who’s very close to you will be swallowed up by a swamp and you will stand there slowly clapping your hands above your head. (He laughs in a strange voice. PORTEN gets up quickly, pushing the guitar off the table in the process. JANNINGS in a disguised voice) A guitar falls off the table, that means: hats staggering into glacial fissures during the next mountain-climbing expedition. (He laughs in a strange voice.)

VON STROHEIM

(To PORTEN, who is standing motionless) You want to leave?

PORTEN

(Sits down.) No, I stood up just now. (She suddenly crosses her arms over her breast and hunches her shoulders.)

GEORGE

Are you cold?

PORTEN

(Drops her arms.) No. (To VON STROHEIM) And who are you? (VON STROHEIM picks up the guitar and holds it as he did previously. PORTEN tenderly) Oh, it’s you! (She becomes serious again immediately.)

VON STROHEIM

Did you remember something?

(Helplessly, she tries to give him another affectionate look, stops, reaches for a cigar.)

GEORGE

Are you restless?

PORTEN

(Puts the cigar back in the box. Serene) No, I only wanted to take a cigar. (Suddenly she screams) I only wanted to take a cigar! (GEORGE shies back, pulls his jacket over the head, as if he were protecting himself against rain, and stays hunched up like that. PORTEN screams) I only wanted to take a cigar! I ONLY WANTED TO TAKE A CIGAR!

(They all hunch up more and more. Now one hears a noise emanating from backstage, a high-pitched, pathetic howling.

The howling coincides with a slight darkening onstage. PORTEN immediately stops and hunches up too.

The WOMAN WITH THE SCARF steps swiftly out of the wings and walks to the second tapestry door without looking at anyone. As soon as she opens the door, there is quiet behind it. Instead, one hears the rustling of a newspaper, which is lying just inside the door. The WOMAN goes inside and returns with a big DOLL that represents a CHILD. The CHILD is quiet now, it has the hiccups. It is wearing a gold-embroidered white nightgown and looks very true to life. The mouth is enormous and open. As the WOMAN reaches center stage with the CHILD, it starts to bawl terribly, somehow without any preliminaries. GEORGE, jacket over his head, quickly leaps toward the chest and closes the drawer. The bawling stops at once.

The WOMAN carries the CHILD now from one to the other very fast, and in passing, during brief stops, it reaches for the women’s breasts and between the men’s legs. Very rapidly it also wipes off all the things that had been lying on the table, then pulls away the lace tablecloth and drops it. When the WOMAN stands with the CHILD beside BERGNER, who seems to be still asleep, it begins to bawl again, and as suddenly as if it had never stopped. The WOMAN holds it in such a way that the CHILD sees BERGNER from the front. It stops bawling at once and is carried away.

The WOMAN returns alone, closes the tapestry door, and goes off. After she has gone, they all sit there motionless. One of them tries to reach for something, but stops as soon as he starts. Someone else tries a gesture that atrophies instantly. A third wants to reply with a gesture, interrupts it twitching. They squat there, start to do something simultaneously; one of them futilely tries to pull his hand out of a pocket; one or two of them even open their mouths — a few sounds, then all of them grow stiff again and cuddle up, make themselves very small as if freezing to death.

Only BERGNER sits there the whole time motionless, with eyes closed. All of a sudden, as though she were playing “waking up,” she moves slightly. By and by, the others look toward her. VON STROHEIM gets up and bends down to her. She again moves a little. The others are motionless. She opens her eyes and recognizes VON STROHEIM; she begins to smile.)

The stage becomes dark.

Translated by Michael Roloff