C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
From ‘There Are Crimes and Crimes’
By August Strindberg (1849–1912)
From ‘Plays by August Strindberg’: Translation of Edwin Björkman
W
Jeanne[submissively]—I am only waiting for somebody who’ll soon be here—
Watchman—All right, but you’re not allowed to pick any flowers.
Jeanne[to Marion]—Drop the flowers, dear.
Abbé[comes forward and is saluted by the Watchman]—Can’t the child play with the flowers that have been thrown away?
Watchman—The regulations don’t permit anybody to touch even the flowers that have been thrown away, because it’s believed they may spread infection—which I don’t know if it’s true.
Abbé[to Marion]—In that case we have to obey, of course. What’s your name, my little girl?
Marion—My name is Marion.
Abbé—And who is your father?
Abbé—Pardon my question, madame. I had no intention—I was just talking to keep the little one quiet.
Jeanne—I understood it, Reverend Father, and I wish you would say something to quiet me also. I feel very much disturbed after having waited here two hours.
Abbé—Two hours—for him! How these human beings torture each other! O Crux! Ave spes unica!
Jeanne—What do they mean, those words you read all around here?
Abbé—They mean: O cross, our only hope!
Jeanne—Is it the only one?
Abbé—The only certain one.
Jeanne—I shall soon believe that you are right, Father.
Abbé—May I ask why?
Jeanne—You have already guessed it. When he lets the woman and the child wait two hours in a cemetery, then the end is not far off.
Abbé—And when he has left you, what then?
Jeanne—Then we have to go into the river.
Abbé—Oh, no, no!
Jeanne—Yes, yes!
Marion—Mamma, I want to go home, for I am hungry.
Jeanne—Just a little longer, dear, and we’ll go home.
Abbé—Woe unto those who call evil good and good evil!
Jeanne—What is that woman doing at the grave over there?
Abbé—She seems to be talking to the dead.
Jeanne—But you cannot do that?
Abbé—She seems to know how.
Jeanne—This would mean that the end of life is not the end of misery?
Abbé—And you don’t know it?
Jeanne—Where can I find out?
Abbé—Hm! The next time you feel as if you wanted to learn about this well-known matter, you can look me up in our Lady’s Chapel at the Church of St. Germain—Here comes the one you are waiting for, I guess.
Jeanne[embarrassed]—No, he is not the one, but I know him.
Abbé[to Marion]—Good-bye, little Marion! May God take care of you![Kisses the child and goes out.]At St. Germain des Près.
Émile[enters]—Good-morning, sister. What are you doing here?
Jeanne—I am waiting for Maurice.
Émile—Then I guess you’ll have a lot of waiting to do, for I saw him on the boulevard an hour ago, taking breakfast with some friends.[Kissing the child.]Good morning, Marion.
Jeanne—Ladies also?
Émile—Ot course. But that doesn’t mean anything. He writes plays, and his latest one has its first performance to-night. I suppose he had with him some of the actresses.
Jeanne—Did he recognize you?
Émile—No, he doesn’t know who I am, and it is just as well. I know my place as a workman, and I don’t care for any condescension from those that are above me.
Jeanne—But if he leaves us without anything to live on?
Émile—Well, you see, when it gets that far, then I suppose I shall have to introduce myself. But you don’t expect anything of the kind, do you—seeing that he is fond of you and very much attached to the child?
Jeanne—I don’t know, but I have a feeling that something dreadful is in store for me.
Émile—Has he promised to marry you?
Jeanne—No, not promised exactly, but he has held out hopes.
Émile—Hopes, yes! Do you remember my words at the start: don’t hope for anything, for those above us don’t marry downward.
Jeanne—But such things have happened.
Émile—Yes, they have happened. But would you feel at home in his world? I can’t believe it, for you wouldn’t even understand what they were talking of. Now and then I take my meals where he is eating—out in the kitchen is my place, of course—and I don’t make out a word of what they say.
Jeanne—So you take your meals at that place?
Émile—Yes, in the kitchen.
Jeanne—And think of it, he has never asked me to come with him.
Émile—Well, that’s rather to his credit, and it shows he has some respect for the mother of his child. The women over there are a queer lot.
Jeanne—Is that so?
Émile—But Maurice never pays any attention to the women. There is something square about that fellow.
Jeanne—That’s what I feel about him, too, but as soon as there is a woman in it, a man isn’t himself any longer.
Émile[smiling]—You don’t tell me! But listen: are you hard up for money?
Jeanne—No, nothing of that kind.
Émile—Well, then the worst hasn’t come yet—Look! Over there! There he comes. And I’ll leave you. Good-bye, little girl.
Jeanne—Is he coming? Yes, that’s him.
Émile—Don’t make him mad now—with your jealousy, Jeanne!
Jeanne—No, I won’t.
Marion[runs up to him and is lifted up into his arms]—Papa, papa!
Maurice—My little girl![Greets Jeanne.]Can you forgive me, Jeanne, that I have kept you waiting so long?
Jeanne—Of course I can.
Maurice—But say it in such a way that I can hear that you are forgiving me.
Jeanne—Come here and let me whisper it to you.
[Jeanne kisses him on the cheek.]
Maurice—I didn’t hear.
Maurice—Now I heard! Well—you know, I suppose, that this is the day that will settle my fate? My play is on for to-night, and there is every chance that it will succeed—or fail.
Jeanne—I’ll make sure of success by praying for you.
Maurice—Thank you. If it doesn’t help, it can at least do no harm—Look over there, down there in the valley, where the haze is thickest: there lies Paris. To-day Paris doesn’t know who Maurice is, but it is going to know within twenty-four hours. The haze, which has kept me obscure for thirty years, will vanish before my breath, and I shall become visible, I shall assume definite shape and begin to be somebody. My enemies—which means all who would like to do what I have done—will be writhing in pains that shall be my pleasures, for they will be suffering all that I have suffered.
Jeanne—Don’t talk that way, don’t!
Maurice—But that’s the way it is.
Jeanne—Yes, but don’t speak of it—And then?
Maurice—Then we are on firm ground, and then you and Marion will bear the name I have made famous.
Jeanne—You love me then?
Maurice—I love both of you, equally much, or perhaps Marion a little more.
Jeanne—I am glad of it, for you can grow tired of me, but not of her.
Maurice—Have you no confidence in my feelings toward you?
Jeanne—I don’t know, but I am afraid of something, afraid of something terrible—
Maurice—You are tired out and depressed by your long wait, which once more I ask you to forgive. What have you to be afraid of?
Jeanne—The unexpected: that which you may foresee without having any particular reason to do so.
Maurice—But I foresee only success, and I have particular reasons for doing so: the keen instincts of the management and their knowledge of the public, not to speak of their personal acquaintance with the critics. So now you must be in good spirits—
Jeanne—I can’t, I can’t! Do you know, there was an Abbé here a while ago, who talked so beautifully to us. My faith—which you haven’t destroyed, but just covered up, as when you put chalk on a window to clean it—I couldn’t lay hold on it for that reason, but this old man just passed his hand over the chalk, and the light came through, and it was possible again to see that the people within were at home—To-night I will pray for you at St. Germain.
Maurice—Now I am getting scared.
Jeanne—Fear of God is the beginning of wisdom.
Maurice—God? What is that? Who is He?
Jeanne—It was He who gave joy to your youth and strength to your manhood. And it is He who will carry us through the terrors that lie ahead of us.
Maurice—What is lying ahead of us? What do you know? Where have you learned of this? This thing that I don’t know?
Jeanne—I can’t tell. I have dreamt nothing, seen nothing, heard nothing. But during these two dreadful hours I have experienced such an infinity of pain that I am ready for the worst.
Marion—Now I want to go home, mamma, for I am hungry.
Maurice—Yes, you’ll go home now, my little darling.[Takes her into his arms.]
Marion[shrinking]—Oh, you hurt me, papa!
Jeanne—Yes, we must get home for dinner. Good-bye, then, Maurice. And good luck to you!
Maurice[to Marion]—How did I hurt you? Doesn’t my little girl know that I always want to be nice to her?
Marion—If you are nice, you’ll come home with us.
Maurice[to Jeanne]—When I hear the child talk like that, you know, I feel as if I ought to do what she says. But then reason and duty protest—Good-bye, my dear little girl!
Jeanne—When do we meet again?
Maurice—We’ll meet to-morrow, dear. And then we’ll never part again.
Jeanne[embraces him]—Never, never to part again![She makes the sign of the cross on his forehead.]May God protect you!
Maurice[moved against his own will]—My dear, beloved Jeanne!
Maurice[comes back]—Jeanne, I am ashamed of myself. I am always forgetting you, and you are the last one to remind me of it. Here are the tickets for to-night.
Jeanne—Thank you, dear, but—you have to take up your post of duty alone, and so I have to take up mine—with Marion.
Maurice—Your wisdom is as great as the goodness of your heart. Yes, I am sure no other woman would have sacrificed a pleasure to serve her husband—I must have my hands free to-night, and there is no place for women and children on the battle-field—and this you understood!
Jeanne—Don’t think too highly of a poor woman like myself, and then you’ll have no illusions to lose. And now you’ll see that I can be as forgetful as you—I have bought you a tie and a pair of gloves which I thought you might wear for my sake on your day of honor.
Maurice[kissing her hand]—Thank you, dear.
Jeanne—And then, Maurice, don’t forget to have your hair fixed, as you do all the time. I want you to be good-looking, so that others will like you too.
Maurice—There is no jealousy in you!
Jeanne—Don’t mention that word, for evil thoughts spring from it.
Maurice—Just now I feel as if I could give up this evening’s victory—for I am going to win—
Jeanne—Hush, hush!
Maurice—And go home with you instead.
Jeanne—But you mustn’t do that! Go now: your destiny is waiting for you.
Maurice—Good-bye then! And may that happen which must happen![Goes out.]
Jeanne[alone with Marion]—O Crux! Ave spes unica!
Mme. Catherine—So it’s to-night the great event comes off, Monsieur Maurice?
Maurice—Yes, to-night.
Mme. Catherine—Do you feel upset?
Maurice—Cool as a cucumber.
Mme. Catherine—Well, I wish you luck anyhow, and you have deserved it, Monsieur Maurice, after having had to fight against such difficulties as yours.
Maurice—Thank you, Madame Catherine. You have been very kind to me, and without your help I should probably have been down and out by this time.
Mme. Catherine—Don’t let us talk of that now. I help along where I see hard work and the right kind of will, but I don’t want to be exploited. Can we trust you to come back here after the play and let us drink a glass with you?
Maurice—Yes, you can—of course, you can, as I have already promised you.
[Maurice turns around, raises his hat, and stares at Henriette, who looks him over carefully.]
Henriette—Monsieur Adolphe is not here yet?
Mme. Catherine—No, madame. But he’ll soon be here now. Won’t you sit down?
Henriette—No, thank you, I’d rather wait for him outside.[Goes out.]
Maurice—Who—was—that?
Mme. Catherine—Why, that’s Monsieur Adolphe’s friend.
Maurice—What—that—her?
Mme. Catherine—Have you never seen her before?
Maurice—No, he has been hiding her from me, just as if he was afraid I might take her away from him.
Mme. Catherine—Ha-ha! Well, how did you think she looked?
Maurice—How she looked? Let me see: I can’t tell—I didn’t see her, for it was as if she had rushed straight into my arms at once and come so close to me that I couldn’t make out her features at all. And she left her impression on the air behind her. I can still see her standing there.[He goes toward the door and makes a gesture as if putting his arm around somebody.]Whew![He makes a gesture as if he had pricked his finger.]There are pins in her waist. She is of the kind that stings!
Mme. Catherine—Oh, you are crazy, you with your ladies!
Maurice—Yes, it’s craziness, that’s what it is. But do you know, Madame Catherine, I am going before she comes back, or else, or else—Oh, that woman is horrible!
Mme. Catherine—Are you afraid?
Maurice—Yes, I am afraid for myself, and also for some others.
Mme. Catherine—Well, go then.
Maurice—She seemed to suck herself out through the door, and in her wake rose a little whirlwind that dragged me along. Yes, you may laugh, but can’t you see that the palm over there on the buffet is still shaking? She’s the very devil of a woman!
Mme. Catherine—Oh, get out of here, man, before you lose all your reason.
Maurice—I want to go, but I cannot. Do you believe in fate, Madame Catherine?
Mme. Catherine—No, I believe in a good God, who protects us against evil powers if we ask Him in the right way.
Maurice—So there are evil powers after all! I think I can hear them in the hallway now.
Mme. Catherine—Yes, her clothes rustle as when the clerk tears off a piece of linen for you. Get away now—through the kitchen.
Émile—I beg your pardon.[He retires the way he came.]
Adolphe[comes in first; after him Henriette]—Why, there’s Maurice. How are you? Let me introduce this lady here to my oldest and best friend. Mademoiselle Henriette—Monsieur Maurice.
Maurice[saluting stiffly]—Pleased to meet you.
Henriette—We have seen each other before.
Adolphe—Is that so? When, if I may ask?
Maurice—A moment ago. Right here.
Adolphe—O-oh! But now you must stay and have a chat with us.
Maurice[after a glance at Mme. Catherine]—If I only had time.
Adolphe—Take the time. And we won’t be sitting here very long.
Henriette—I won’t interrupt if you have to talk business.
Maurice—The only business we have is so bad that we don’t want to talk of it.
Henriette—Then we’ll talk of something else.[Takes the hat away from Maurice and hangs it up.]Now be nice, and let me become acquainted with the great author.
Adolphe—That’s right, Henriette, you take charge of him.[They seat themselves at one of the tables.]
Henriette[to Maurice]—You certainly have a good friend in Adolphe, Monsieur Maurice. He never talks of anything but you, and in such a way that I feel myself rather thrown in the background.
Adolphe—You don’t say so! Well, Henriette on her side never leaves me in peace about you, Maurice. She has read your works, and she is always wanting to know where you got this and where that. She has been questioning me about your looks, your age, your tastes. I have, in a word, had you for breakfast, dinner, and supper. It has almost seemed as if the three of us were living together.
Maurice[to Henriette]—Heavens, why didn’t you come over here and have a look at this wonder of wonders? Then your curiosity could have been satisfied in a trice.
Henriette—Adolphe didn’t want it.
Henriette—Not that he was jealous—
Maurice—And why should he be, when he knows that my feelings are tied up elsewhere?
Henriette—Perhaps he didn’t trust the stability of your feelings.
Maurice—I can’t understand that, seeing that I am notorious for my constancy.
Adolphe—Well, it wasn’t that—
Henriette[interrupting him]—Perhaps that is because you have not faced the fiery ordeal—
Adolphe—Oh, you don’t know—
Henriette[interrupting]—for the world has not yet beheld a faithful man.
Maurice—Then it’s going to behold one.
Henriette—Where?
Maurice—Here.
Adolphe—Well, that’s going it—
Henriette[interrupting him and directing herself continuously to Maurice]—Do you think I ever trust my dear Adolphe more than a month at a time?
Maurice—I have no right to question your lack of confidence, but I can guarantee that Adolphe is faithful.
Henriette—You don’t need to do so—my tongue is just running away with me, and I have to take back a lot—not only for fear of feeling less generous than you, but because it is the truth. It is a bad habit I have of seeing only the ugly side of things, and I keep it up although I know better. But if I had a chance to be with you two for some time, then your company would make me good once more. Pardon me, Adolphe![She puts her hand against his cheek.]
Adolphe—You are always wrong in your talk and right in your actions. What you really think—that I don’t know.
Henriette—Who does know that kind of thing?
Maurice—Well, if we had to answer for our thoughts, who could clear himself?
Henriette—Do you also have evil thoughts?
Maurice—Certainly; just as I commit the worst kind of cruelties in my dreams.
Henriette—Oh, when you are dreaming, of course. Just think of it. No, I am ashamed of telling—
Maurice—Go on, go on!
Henriette—Last night I dreamt that I was coolly dissecting the muscles on Adolphe’s breast—you see, I am a sculptor—and he, with his usual kindness, made no resistance, but helped me instead with the worst places, as he knows more anatomy than I.
Maurice—Was he dead?
Henriette—No, he was living.
Maurice—But that’s horrible! And didn’t it make you suffer?
Henriette—Not at all, and that astonished me most, for I am rather sensitive to other people’s sufferings. Isn’t that so, Adolphe?
Adolphe—That’s right. Rather abnormally so, in fact, and not the least when animals are concerned.
Maurice—And I, on the other hand, am rather callous toward the sufferings both of myself and others.
Adolphe—Now he is not telling the truth about himself. Or what do you say, Madame Catherine?
Mme. Catherine—I don’t know of anybody with a softer heart than Monsieur Maurice. He came near calling in the police because I didn’t give the goldfish fresh water—those over there on the buffet. Just look at them: it is as if they could hear what I am saying.
Maurice—Yes, here we are making ourselves out as white as angels, and yet we are, taking it all in all, capable of any kind of polite atrocity the moment glory, gold, or women are concerned. So you are a sculptor, Mademoiselle Henriette?
Henriette—A bit of one. Enough to do a bust. And to do one of you—which has long been my cherished dream—I hold myself quite capable.
Maurice—Go ahead! That dream at least need not be long in coming true.
Henriette—But I don’t want to fix your features in my mind until this evening’s success is over. Not until then will you have become what you should be.
Maurice—How sure you are of victory!
Henriette—Yes, it is written on your face that you are going to win this battle, and I think you must feel that yourself.
Maurice—Why do you think so?
Henriette—Because I can feel it. This morning I was ill, you know, and now I am well.
Maurice[embarrassed]—Listen, I have a single ticket left—only one. I place it at your disposal, Adolphe.
Adolphe—Thank you, but I surrender it to Henriette.
Henriette—But that wouldn’t do?
Adolphe—Why not? And I never go to the theatre anyhow, as I cannot stand the heat.
Henriette—But you will come and take us home at least after the show is over.
Adolphe—If you insist on it. Otherwise Maurice has to come back here, where we shall all be waiting for him.
Maurice—You can just as well take the trouble of meeting us. In fact, I ask, I beg you to do so. And if you don’t want to wait outside the theatre, you can meet us at the Auberge des Adrets. That’s settled then, isn’t it?
Adolphe—Wait a little. You have a way of settling things to suit yourself, before other people have a chance to consider them.
Maurice—What is there to consider—whether you are to see your lady home or not?
Adolphe—You never know what may be involved in a simple act like that, but I have a sort of premonition.
Henriette—Hush, hush, hush! Don’t talk of spooks while the sun is shining. Let him come or not, as it pleases him. We can always find our way back here.
Adolphe[rising]—Well, now I have to leave you—model, you know. Good-bye, both of you. And good luck to you, Maurice. To-morrow you will be out on the right side. Good-bye, Henriette.
Henriette—Do you really have to go?
Adolphe—I must.
Maurice—Good-bye, then. We’ll meet later.
Henriette—Think of it, that we should meet at last!
Maurice—Do you find anything remarkable in that?
Henriette—It looks as if it had to happen, for Adolphe has done his best to prevent it.
Maurice—Has he?
Henriette—Oh, you must have noticed it.
Maurice—I have noticed it, but why should you mention it?
Henriette—I had to.
Maurice—No, and I don’t have to tell you that I wanted to run away through the kitchen in order to avoid meeting you and was stopped by a guest who closed the door in front of me.
Henriette—Why do you tell me about it now?
Maurice—I don’t know.
Maurice—That’s all right, Madame Catherine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
Henriette—Was that meant as a signal or a warning?
Maurice—Probably both.
Henriette—Do they take me for a locomotive that has to have a flagman ahead of it?
Maurice—And switchmen! The danger is always greatest at the switches.
Henriette—How nasty you can be!
Mme. Catherine—Monsieur Maurice isn’t nasty at all. So far nobody has been kinder than he to those that love him and trust in him.
Maurice—Sh, sh, sh!
Henriette[to Maurice]—The old lady is rather impertinent.
Maurice—We can walk over to the boulevard, if you care to do so.
Henriette—With pleasure. This is not the place for me. I can just feel their hatred clawing at me.[Goes out.]
Maurice[starts after her]—Good-bye, Madame Catherine.
Mme. Catherine—A moment! May I speak a word to you, Monsieur Maurice?
Maurice[stops unwillingly]—What is it?
Mme. Catherine—Don’t do it! Don’t do it!
Maurice—What?
Mme. Catherine—Don’t do it!
Maurice—Don’t be scared. This lady is not my kind, but she interests me. Or hardly that even.
Mme. Catherine—Don’t trust yourself!
Maurice—Yes, I do trust myself. Good-bye.[Goes out.]