C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
The Death and Awakening of Hannele
By Gerhart Hauptmann (1862–1946)
H
Sister—H’m! are you awake again already?
Hannele—Just guess! do![Unable to contain herself.]Angels! angels! real angels! angels from heaven, Sister Martha! Angels, you know, with long wings.
Sister—Well then, if you’ve had such beautiful dreams—
Hannele—There now! She says I dreamt it! But look at what I’ve got here; just look at it![She makes a motion, as though she held a flower in her hand and were showing it to the Sister.]
Sister—What is it?
Hannele—Just look at it.
Sister—H’m!
Hannele—Here it is; look at it!
Sister—Aha!
Hannele—Just smell it.
Sister[pretending to smell a flower]—H’m—lovely!
Hannele—Not so close to it! You’ll break the stalk.
Sister—Oh, I’m very sorry. What sort of flower is it?
Hannele—Why, don’t you know? The key-of-heaven.
Sister—Is it really?
Hannele—Why, surely you’re— Do bring the light—quick, quick!
Sister[holding up the candle]—Ah yes, now I see it.
Hannele—Isn’t it lovely?
Sister—But you’re talking a great deal too much. We must keep quiet now, or the doctor will scold us. And here he has sent you your medicine. We must take it, as he bids us.
Hannele—O Sister, you’re far too much troubled about me! You don’t know what has happened. Do you? do you?—do tell me, if you know. Who gave me this? Well—the little golden key? Who? say! What is the little golden key meant to open? Well?
Sister—You’ll tell me all about it to-morrow morning. Then, after a good night’s rest, you’ll be strong and well.
Hannele—But I am well.[She sits up and puts her feet to the ground.]You see, Sister, I’m quite, quite well!
Sister—Why, Hannele! No, you mustn’t do that, you really mustn’t.
Hannele[rising and pushing the Sister away, makes a few steps forward.]—You must let me. You must—let me. I must—go.[She starts in terror and gazes fixedly at a certain point.]O heavenly Savior!
Sister—Where?
Hannele—There, there!
Sister—Why are you trembling so?
Hannele—I’m frightened!
Sister—Fear nothing; I am with you.
Hannele—My teeth are chattering with terror. I can’t help it. He makes me shudder!
Sister—Do not be frightened; he is your friend.
Hannele—Who is he, mother?
Sister—Do you not know him?
Hannele—Who is he?
Sister—Death.
Hannele—Death![She looks for a while at the black Angel in awe-stricken silence.]Must it be, then?
Sister—It is the entrance, Hannele.
Hannele—Must every one pass through the entrance?
Sister—Every one.
Hannele—Will you grasp me hard, Death?—He is silent. He makes no answer, mother, to anything I say.
Sister—The words of God are loud within you.
Hannele—I have often longed for you from the depths of my heart; but now I am afraid.
Sister—Make you ready.
Hannele—To die?
Sister—Yes.
Hannele[after a pause, timidly]—Must I lie in the coffin in these rags and tatters?
Sister—God will clothe you.
Sister[takes the gown from the Tailor and begins to dress Hannele]—Come, I will put it on for you.
Hannele[in joyful excitement]—Oh, how it rustles!
Sister—White silk, Hannele.
Hannele[looking down in rapture at the gown]—Won’t people be astonished to see me so beautifully dressed in my coffin?
Tailor—Mistress Johanna Katharina Mattern[clears his throat],the whole village is talking of nothing but[clears his throat]what good fortune death is bringing you, Mistress Hanna[clears his throat].His Serene Highness[clears his throat]your most gracious Father[clears his throat]has been to the Overseer.
Sister[placing the wreath on Hannele’s head]—Now bend thy head, thou bride of Heaven.
Hannele[quivering with childish joy]—Do you know, Sister Martha, I’m looking forward so to death.[All of a sudden she looks dubiously at the Sister.]It is you, isn’t it?
Sister—Yes.
Hannele—You are really Sister Martha? Oh, no! you are my mother!
Sister—Yes.
Hannele—Are you both?
Sister—The children of heaven are as one in God.
Tailor—If I might be permitted, Princess Hannele![Kneeling before her with the slippers.]These are the tiniest little slippers in the land. They have all too large feet—Hedwig, and Agnes, and Lisa, and Martha, and Minna, and Anna, and Kate, and Greta.[He has put the slippers on her feet.]They fit, they fit! The bride is found; Mistress Hannele has the smallest feet. When you have any further orders— Your servant, your servant![Goes off, bowing profusely.]
Hannele—I can scarcely bear to wait, little mother.
Sister—Now you need not take any more medicine.
Hannele—No.
Sister—Now you’ll soon be as fresh and sound as a mountain trout, Hannele! Come now, and lay you down on your death-bed.
Sister—Yes, you will, Hannele.
Hannele[lying on her back with her hands as if they were holding a flower]—I have a pledge.
Sister—Press it close to your breast.
Hannele[with a renewal of dread, looking shrinkingly towards the Angel]—Must it be, then?
Sister—It must.
Sister[interposing with dignity between the Angel and Hannele, and laying both her hands in an attitude of protection upon Hannele’s heart, speaking loftily, solemnly, and with authority]—He dare not! I lay my consecrated hands upon thy heart!
Sister—Mr. Gottwald, God’s greeting to you!
Gottwald[looking at Hannele, shakes his head sadly and pityingly]—Poor little thing!
Sister—Why are you so sad, Mr. Gottwald?
Gottwald—Because she is dead.
Sister—We will not grieve for that; she has found peace, and for her sake I am glad.
Gottwald[sighing]—Yes, it is well with her. Now she is free from all trouble and sorrow.
Sister[sunk in contemplation]—How beautiful she looks as she lies there.
Gottwald—Yes, beautiful. Now that you are dead, you bloom forth in all your loveliness!
Sister—God has made her so beautiful because she had faith in him.
Gottwald—Yes, she had faith and she was good.[He heaves a deep sigh, opens his hymn-book and looks sadly into it.]
Sister[also looking into the hymn-book]—We must not mourn. We must be still and patient.
Gottwald—Ah, my heart is heavy.
Sister—Because she is set free?
Gottwald—Because my two flowers are withered.
Sister—What flowers?
Gottwald—Two violets here in my book. They are the dead eyes of my dear Hannele.
Sister—In God’s heaven they will bloom again far more sweetly!
Gottwald—O God! how much longer will our pilgrimage last through this vale of darkness and of tears?[With a sudden change, briskly and busily, producing sheets of music.]What do you think? I thought we might begin, here in the house, by singing the hymn ‘Jesus, oh, I trust in thee.’
Sister—Yes, that is a beautiful hymn; and Hannele Mattern’s heart was full of faith.
Gottwald—And then out in the church-yard we will sing ‘Set me free.’[He turns, goes to the school-children, and says:]Number 62, ‘Set me free.’[He intones softly, beating time:]
A Little Boy[stepping forward]—Dear Princess Hannele, don’t be angry with me, and don’t tell the dear God that I always called you the beggar princess.
All the Children[in a confused murmur]—We are all so very, very sorry!
Gottwald—So! Now poor Hannele has already forgiven you. Now go into the other room and wait for me there.
Sister—Come, I’ll take you into the back room, and there I’ll tell you what you must do if you want to become beautiful angels, as beautiful as Hannele will soon be.[She leads the way; the children follow her; the door is closed.]
Gottwald[now alone with Hannele.He lays the flowers at her feet, with emotion]—Hannele dear, here I’ve brought you another bunch of beautiful lilies of the valley.[Kneeling by her bed with trembling voice.]Don’t quite, quite forget me in your glory![He sobs, with his face buried in the folds of her dress.]It breaks my heart to part from you.
Second Woman—No, the schoolmaster is here already. Good-day, Mr. Gottwald.
Gottwald—Good-day.
First Woman—Ah, this’ll be a sore trouble to you, Mr. Gottwald! She was such a good pupil to you; always industrious, always busy.
Second Woman—Is it true what people are saying? Surely it can’t be true: they say she took her own life.
A Third Woman[who has entered]—That would be a sin against the Holy Spirit.
Second Woman—A sin against the Holy Ghost.
Third Woman—And the pastor says such a sin can never be forgiven.
Gottwald—Have you forgotten what the Savior said?—“Suffer the little children to come unto me.”
A Fourth Woman[who has entered]—O good people, good people, what weather! It’s enough to freeze the feet off you! I only hope the pastor won’t be too long about it. The snow is lying a yard deep in the church-yard.
A Fifth Woman[entering]—The pastor is not going to bury her, good people! He’s going to refuse her consecrated ground.
Pleschke[also appearing]—Have you heard? have you heard? A grand gentleman has been to see the pastor—has been to see the pastor—and has told him—yes, told him that Hannla Mattern is a blessed saint.
Hanke[entering hastily]—Do you know what they are bringing? a crystal coffin!
Several Voices—A crystal coffin!—A crystal coffin!
Hanke—O Lord! It must have cost a pretty penny!
Several Voices—A crystal coffin!—A crystal coffin!
Seidel[who has appeared]—We’re going to see fine things, that we are! An angel has passed right through the village, as tall as a poplar-tree, if you’ll believe me. And two others are sitting by the smithy pond; but they’re small, like little children. The girl was more than a beggar-girl.
Several Voices—The girl was more than a beggar-girl.—They’re bringing a crystal coffin.—An angel has passed through the village.
First Woman[peering curiously under the sheet]—Why, her hair is like gold.
Gottwald[drawing the cloth right away from Hannele, who is illumined with a pale light]—And she has silken garments and glass slippers.[All shrink back as though dazzled, with exclamations of the utmost surprise.]
Several Voices—Ah, how beautiful she is!—Who can it be?—Who can it be?—Little Hannla Mattern?—Hannla Mattern?—No, I don’t believe it!
Pleschke—The girl—the girl—is a—a saint.
First Woman—Her coffin is to be set up in the church.
Second Woman—I believe the girl isn’t really dead. She looks as alive as ever she can be.
Pleschke—Just give me—just give me—a down feather. Well try—we’ll try—holding a down feather to her mouth,—yes, and we’ll see—and we’ll see if she’s still—if she’s still breathing,—we will.[They give him a down feather and he holds it to Hannele’s mouth.]It doesn’t stir. The girl is dead! She hasn’t a breath of life in her!
Third Woman—I’ll give her my bunch of rosemary.[She lays it in the coffin.]
Fourth Woman—She can take my bit of lavender with her too.
Fifth Woman—But where is Mattern?
First Woman—Yes, where is Mattern?
Second Woman—Oh, he! he’s sitting over there in the alehouse.
First Woman—Most like he doesn’t know a word of what has happened.
Second Woman—He cares for nothing so long as he has his dram. He knows nothing about it.
Pleschke—Haven’t you—haven’t you told him then—told him—that there’s death—in his house?
Third Woman—He might know that without any telling.
Fourth Woman—I don’t say anything, Heaven forbid! But every one knows who has killed the girl.
Seidel—You’re right there! The whole village, as you might say, knows that. There’s a lump on her as big as my fist.
Fifth Woman—No grass grows where that fellow sets his feet.
Seidel—I was there when they changed her wet clothes, and I saw it as plain as I see you. She has a lump on her as big as my fist—and that’s what has killed her.
First Woman—It’s Mattern must answer for her, and no one else.
All[speaking all at once and vehemently, but in a whisper]—No one else, no one else.
Second Woman—He’s a murderer, he is.
All[full of fury, but in a low tone]—A murderer, a murderer!
Stranger—Mattern, God’s greeting to you!
Mattern—How have you come here? What do you want?
Stranger[in a tone of humble entreaty]—I have walked till my feet are bleeding; give me water to wash them. The hot sun has parched me; give me wine to drink, and to refresh me. I have not broken bread since I set forth in the morning; I am hungry.
Mattern—What’s that to me? What brings you tramping round here? Go and work. I have to work too.
Stranger—I am a workman.
Mattern—You’re a tramp, that’s what you are. A workman need not go about begging.
Stranger—I am a workman without wages.
Mattern—You’re a tramp, you are.
Stranger[diffidently, submissively, but at the same time impressively]—I am a physician. It may be that you have need of me.
Mattern—I’m all right; I don’t need any doctor.
Stranger[his voice trembling with inward emotion]—Mattern, bethink you! You need give me no water, and yet I will heal you. You may give me no bread to eat, and yet, God helping me, I will make you whole.
Mattern—You get out of this! Go about your business. I have sound bones in my body; I need no doctor: do you understand?
Stranger—Mattern, bethink you! I will wash your feet for you; I will give you wine to drink; you shall eat white bread; tread me under foot, and yet, God helping me, I will make you whole and sound.
Mattern—Now, will you go or will you not? If you won’t get out of this, I tell you I’ll—
Stranger[in a tone of earnest admonition]—Mattern, do you know what you have in your house?
Mattern—All that belongs there; all that belongs there; all that belongs there: you don’t belong there. Just get out, now!
Stranger[simply]—Your daughter is ill.
Mattern—Her illness doesn’t need any doctor. It’s nothing but laziness, her illness isn’t. I can knock that out of her without your help.
Stranger[solemnly]—Mattern, I come as a messenger to you.
Mattern—As a messenger, eh? Who from?
Stranger—I come from the Father, and I go to the Father. What have you done with his child?
Mattern—How am I to know what’s become of her? What have I to do with his children? He’s never troubled about her, he hasn’t.
Stranger[firmly]—You have death in your house.
Mattern[now notices Hannele lying there; goes in speechless astonishment up to the coffin, and looks into it; then murmurs:]Where have you got the beautiful clothes? Who has bought you the crystal coffin?
Stranger—Mattern, have you anything to say to me?
Mattern[beside himself with rage]—Strike me dead if she has—here, on the spot! Heaven’s lightning blast me if I’ve been to blame!
Stranger[impressively but kindly]—Have you still nothing to say to me, Mattern?
Mattern[in pitiable terror]—Who loves his child chastens it. I’ve done nothing but good to the girl. I’ve kept her as my child. I’ve a right to punish her when she does wrong.
The Women[advancing threateningly towards him]—Murderer! Murderer! Murderer!
Mattern—She’s lied to me and cheated me. She has robbed me day by day.
Stranger—Are you speaking the truth?
Mattern—God strike me—
All[in the greatest excitement]—A miracle! a miracle!
Pleschke—The girl—the girl—is a—a saint. He has—he has—sworn away—body—body and soul.
Mattern[shrieks]—I’ll go and hang myself![Clasps his head between his hands and rushes off.]
Stranger[goes up to Hannele’s coffin, and turns so as to face the others, who all draw back reverently from the Figure which now stands in full majesty, addressing them]—Fear nothing.[He bends down and takes hold of Hannele’s hand.He speaks with the deepest tenderness.]The maiden is not dead, but sleepeth.[With intensity and assured power.]Johanna Mattern, arise!
Hannele[in an ecstasy, her head bowed as low as possible]—He is there.
Stranger—Who am I?
Hannele—Thou!
Stranger—Name my name.
Hannele[whispers, trembling with awe]—Holy! holy!
Stranger—I know all thy sorrows and thy sufferings.
Hannele—Thou dear, dear—
Stranger—Arise.
Hannele—Thy robe is spotless. I am full of stains.
Stranger[laying his right hand on Hannele’s head]—Thus I take away all baseness from thee.[Raising her face toward him with gentle force, he touches her eyes.]Behold, I bestow on thine eyes eternal light. Let them be filled with the light of countless suns; with the light of endless day, from morning-glow to evening-glow, from evening-glow to morning-glow. Let them be filled with the brightness of all that shines: blue sea, blue sky, and the green plains of eternity.[He touches her ear.]Behold, I give to thine ear to hear all the rejoicing of all the millions of angels in the million heavens of God.[He touches her lips.]Behold, I set free thy stammering tongue, and lay upon it thy soul, and my soul, and the soul of God in the highest.