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Based on the play by MM. Erckmann-Chatrian, Le Juif polonais
CAST |
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| MATHIAS, the burgomaster |
| CATHERINE, his wife |
| ANNETTE, his daughter |
| WALTER & HANS, friends of Mathias |
| CHRISTIAN, a gendarme |
| SOZEL, a servant |
| DOCTOR ZIMMER |
| NOTARY |
| TONY, KARL & FRITZ, guests |
| JUDGE OF THE COURT |
| CLERK OF THE COURT |
| MESMERIST |
| Villagers, Officers of the Court, Crowd | PERIOD--December 24th & 26th, 1833 |
Click here to see pictures of Henry Irving in the rôle of Mathias
SCENE I.--Interior of a Village Inn in Alsace. Table and chairs, R.; L. an old-fashioned sideboard, with curious china upon it, and glasses; door, R.; door, L.; large window at back cut in scene, R.; large door at back cut in scene, L. A candle or lamp burns upon the table; a stove at back, R., with kettle on it; the pipe of stove going of through the wing at R. The country covered with snow is seen through the window; snow is falling; a large clock in L. corner, at back--hands to work. The Inn is the residence of the Burgomaster. It is Christmas Eve.
CATHERINE, the Burgomaster's wife, discovered seated at a spinning wheel, L. Music upon rising of curtain. HANS passes window; enters through door at back; he is covered with snow; he carries a gun, and a large game bag is slung across his shoulders.
HANS (taking of his hat and shaking away the snow). More snow, Madame Mathias, more snow! (He places his gun by the stove.)
CATHERINE. Still in the village, Hans?
HANS. Yes, on Christmas Eve one may be forgiven some small indulgence.
CATHERINE. You know your sack of flour is ready for you at the mill?
HANS. Oh, yes; but I am not in a hurry. Father Walter will take charge of it for me in his cart. Now one glass of wine, madame, and then I'm off. (He sits at table, laughing.)
CATHERINE. Father Walter still here? I thought he had left long ago.
HANS. No, no. He is still at the Golden Fleece emptying his bottle. As I came along, I saw his cart standing outside the grocer's, with the coffee, the cinnamon, and the sugar, all covered with snow, he, he, he! He is a jolly old fellow. Fond of good wine, and I don't blame him, you may be sure. We shall leave together.
CATHERINE. And you have no fear of being upset?
HANS. What does it matter? As I said before, on Christmas Eve one may be forgiven some small indulgence.
CATHERINE. I will lend you a lanthorn when you go. Sozel!
SOZEL (from within). Madame!
CATHERINE. Some wine for Hans!
SOZEL. Yes, madame.
HANS. That's the sort. Considering the festive character of weather like this, one really must take something.
CATHERINE. Yes, but take care, our white wine is very strong.
HANS. Oh, never fear, madame! But, where is our Burgomaster? How is it he is not to be seen? Is he ill?
CATHERINE. He went to Ribeauville five days ago.
Enter SOZEL, carrying a decanter of white wine and glass; she places it on table.
Here is the wine, Master Hans. (Exit SOZEL.)
HANS. Good, good! (He pours out a glass, and drinks with gusto.) I wager, now, that the Burgomaster has gone to buy the wine for the wedding.
CATHERINE (laughing). Not at all improbable.
HANS. Only just now, when I was at the Golden Fleece, it was talked about publicly that the pretty Annette, the daughter of the Burgomaster, and Christian, the Quarter-master of Gendarmes, were going to be married! I could scarcely believe my ears. Christian is certainly a brave man, and an honest man, and a handsome man! I do not wish to maintain anything to the contrary. Our village is rather distinguished in that respect. But he has nothing but his pay to live upon, whilst Annette is the richest match in the village.
CATHERINE. Do you believe then, Hans, that money ought always to be the one consideration?
HANS. No, no, certainly not--on the contrary. Only, I thought that the Burgomaster----
CATHERINE. Well, you have been mistaken; Mathias did not even ask, 'What have you?' He said at once, 'Let Annette give her free consent and I give mine.'
HANS. And did she give her free consent?
CATHERINE. Yes; she loves Christian, and as we have no other thought but the happiness of our child, we do not look for wealth.
HANS. Oh, if the Burgomaster consents and you consent and Annette consents, why, I suppose I cannot refuse my consent either. Only, I may make this observation: I think Christian a very lucky dog, and I wish I was in his place!
Music. Enter ANNETTE.
ANNETTE. Good evening, Hans! (Music ceases.)
HANS. Ah, it is you. Good evening! Good evening! We were just talking about you!
ANNETTE. About me!
HANS. Yes! Oh, oh! How smiling you look, and how prettily dressed; one would almost think that you were going to a wedding.
ANNETTE. Oh, you are always joking.
HANS. No, no, I am not joking! I say what I think, that's all! That pretty cap, and that pretty dress, and those pretty shoes were not put on for the pleasure of a tough middle-aged forest-keeper like myself. It has been all arranged for another--for another I say, and I know who that particular 'another' happens to be--he, he, he!
ANNETTE (blushing). How can you talk such nonsense!
HANS. Oh, yes, it is nonsense to say that you are fascinating, merry, good and pretty, no doubt; and it is nonsense to say that the particular another I refer to--you know the one I mean--the tall one with the handsome moustaches, is a fellow to be envied. Yes, it is nonsense to say it, for I for one do not envy him at all--no, not at all!
FATHER WALTER has passed the window, now opens door at back and puts his head in. ANNETTE turns to look at him.
FATHER WALTER (laughing and coming in--he is covered with snow). Ah, she turned her head! It's not he you expect!
ANNETTE. Who, Father Walter?
WALTER. Ha, ha, ha! That's right. Up to the last minute she will pretend that she knows nothing.
ANNETTE. I do not understand what you mean.
WALTER and HANS both laugh.
CATHERINE. You are a couple of old fools!
WALTER (still laughing). You're not such an old fool as you look, are you, Hans?
HANS. No; and you don't look such an old fool as you are, do you, Walter?
Enter SOZEL with a lighted lanthorn, which she places upon the sideboard; then exits.
WALTER. No. What is the meaning of that lanthorn?
HANS. Why, to act as a light for the cart.
ANNETTE. You can go by moonlight!
WALTER. Yes, yes; certainly we will go by the light of the moon! Let us empty a glass in honour of the young couple. (They fill glasses.) Here's to the health of Christian and Annette!
They drink--HANS taking a long time in drinking the contents of his glass, and then hearing a deep sigh, and music commences.
WALTER. And now listen, Annette; as I entered I saw Christian returning with two gendarmes, and I am sure that in a quarter of an hour----
ANNETTE. Listen! (Wind off.)
CATHERINE. The wind is rising. I hope that Mathias is not now on the road!
ANNETTE. No, no, it is Christian! (Music, forte.)
CHRISTIAN passes the window, enters the door at back, covered with snow.
ALL. Christian! (Music ceases.)
CHRISTIAN. Good evening, all. (ANNETTE runs to him.) Good evening, Annette.
ANNETTE. Where have you come from, Christian?
CHRISTIAN. From the Hôvald! From the Hôvald! What a snowstorm! I have seen many in Auvergne or the Pyrenees, but never anything like this. (He sits by the stove, and warms his hands. After hanging up his hat, ANNETTE goes out and returns with a jug of wine, which she places upon the stove.)
WALTER. There, look at that! What care she takes of him! It would not be for us that she would fetch the sugar and the cinnamon and warm the wine.
CHRISTIAN (laughing). Do not allow me, Annette, to be crushed by the satire of Father Walter, who knows how to defy the wind and the snow by the side of a good fire. I should like to see the figure he would present if he had been five hours on duty as I have been in the snow on the Hôvald.
CATHERINE. You have been five hours in the snow, Christian! Your duties must be terribly severe.
CHRISTIAN. How can it be helped? At two o'clock we received information that smugglers had passed the river the previous night with tobacco and gunpowder; so we were bound to be off at once. (Music.)
ANNETTE. Drink this, Christian; it will warm you.
CHRISTIAN. Thank you, Annette. Ah! that's good!
WALTER. The Quarter-master is not difficult to please. (Music ceases.)
CATHERINE. Never mind. Christian, you are fortunate to have arrived this early. (Wind heard off.) Listen to the wind! I hope that Mathias will have the prudence to stop for shelter somewhere on the road. (To HANS and WALTER.) I was right, you see, in advising you to go; you would now have been safely at home.
HANS (laughing). Annette was the cause of our stopping. Why did she blow out the lanthorn?
ANNETTE. Oh, you were glad enough to stop!
CHRISTIAN. Your winters are very severe here.
WALTER. Oh, not every year, Quarter-master! For fifteen years we have not had a winter so severe as this.
HANS. No--I do not remember to have seen so much snow since what is called 'The Polish Jew's Winter'. In that year the Schnieberg was covered in the first days of November, and the frost lasted till the end of March.
CHRISTIAN. And for that reason it is called 'The Polish Jew's Winter'?
WALTER. No--it is for another and terrible reason, which none of us will ever forget. Madame Mathias remembers it well, I am sure.
CATHERINE (solemnly). You are right, Walter, you are right.
HANS. Had you been here at that time, Quarter-master, you might have won your cross.
CHRISTIAN. How?
WALTER. I can tell you all about this affair from the beginning to the end, since I saw it nearly all myself. Curiously enough, it was this very day, just fifteen years ago, that I was seated at this very table. There was Mathias, who sat there, and who had only bought his mill just six months before; there was old John Roebec, who sat there--they used to call him 'the Little Shoemaker'--and several others, who are now sleeping under the turf--we shall all go there some day! Happy are those who have nothing upon their conscience! We were just beginning a game of cards, when, just as the old clock struck ten, the sound of horse bells was heard; a sledge stopped before the door, and almost immediately afterwards a Polish Jew entered. He was a well-made, vigorous man, between forty and fifty years of age. I fancy I can see him even now entering at that door with his green cloak and his fur cap, his large black beard and his great boots covered with hare skin. He was a seed merchant. He said as he came in, 'Peace be with you!' Everybody turned to look at him, and thought, 'Where has he come from? What does he want?' Because you must know that the Polish Jews who come to dispose of seed do not arrive in this province till the month of February. Mathias said to him, 'What can I do for you?' But the Jew, without replying, first opened his cloak, and then unbuckled a girdle which he wore round his waist. This he threw upon the table, and we all heard the ringing sound of the gold it contained. Then he said, 'The snow is deep; the road difficult; put my horse in the stable. In one hour I shall continue my journey.' After that he drank his wine without speaking to anyone, and sat like a man depressed, and who is anxious about his affairs. At eleven o'clock the Night Watchman came in. Everyone went his way, and the Jew was left alone!
Chord of Music--loud gust of wind--crash of glass off--hurry. ALL start to their feet. Music continued.
CATHERINE. What has happened? I must go and see.
ANNETTE. Oh! no, you must not go!
CATHERINE. I will return immediately. Don't be alarmed. (Exit CATHERINE.)
CHRISTIAN. But I do not yet see how I could have gained the cross in this affair----
WALTER. Stop a minute. The next morning they found the Jew's horse dead under the Bridge of Vechem, and a hundred yards further on, the green cloak and the fur cap, deeply stained with blood. As to what became of the Jew himself has never to this day been discovered. (Music ceases.)
HANS. Everything that Walter has stated is strictly true. The gendarmes came here the next morning, notwithstanding the snow; and, in fact, it is since that dreadful time that the brigade has been established here.
CHRISTIAN. But was no inquiry instituted?
HANS. Inquiry! I should think there was. It was the former Quarter-master, Kelz, who undertook the case. How he travelled about! What witnesses he badgered! What clues he discovered! What information and reports were written! and how the coat and the cap were analyzed, and examined by magistrates and doctors!--but it all came to nothing!
CHRISTIAN. But, surely, suspicion fell on someone.
HANS. Oh, of course, the gendarmes are never at a loss for suspicions in such cases. But proofs are required. About that time, you see, there were two brothers living in the village who had an old bear, with his ears all torn, two big dogs, and a donkey, that they took about with them to the fairs, and made the dogs bait the bear. This brought them a great deal of money; and they lived a rollicking, dissipated life. When the Jew disappeared, they happened to be at Vechem; suspicions fastened upon them, and the report was that they had caused the Jew to be eaten by the dogs and the bear, and that they only refrained from swallowing the cloak and cap because they had had enough. They were arrested, and it would have gone hard with the poor devils, but Mathias interested himself in their case, and they were discharged, after being in prison fifteen months. That was the specimen of suspicion of the case.
CHRISTIAN. What you have told me greatly astonishes me. I never heard a word of this before.
Re-enter CATHERINE.
CATHERINE. I was sure that Sozel had left the windows in the kitchen open. Now every pane of glass in them is broken. (To CHRISTIAN.) Fritz is outside. He wishes to speak with you.
CHRISTIAN. Fritz, the gendarme!
CATHERINE. Yes, I asked him to come in, but he would not. It is upon some matter of duty.
CHRISTIAN. Ah! good, I know what it is!
ANNETTE. You will return, Christian?
CHRISTIAN. In a few minutes. (Music to take him off. Exit.)
WALTER. Ah! there goes a brave young fellow--gentle in character, I will admit, but not a man to trifle with rogues.
HANS. Yes, Mathias is fortunate in finding so good a son-in-law; but everything has succeeded with Mathias for the last fifteen years. (Music commences.) He was comparatively poor then, and now he is one of the richest men in the village, and the Burgomaster. He was born under a lucky star.
WALTER. Well, and he deserves all the success he has achieved.
CATHERINE. Hark!
ANNETTE. It is, perhaps, Christian returning as he promised.
Hurry. MATHIAS passes the window, then enters; he wears a long cloak covered with snow, large cap made of otter's skin, gaiters and spurs, and carries a large riding whip in his hand--chord--tableau.
MATHIAS. It is I--It is I! (Music ceases.)
CATHERINE (rising). Mathias!
HANS & WALTER (starting up). The Burgomaster!
ANNETTE (running and embracing him). At last you have come.
MATHIAS. Yes, yes! Heaven be praised! What a snow-storm. I was obliged to leave the carriage at Vechem. It will be brought over tomorrow.
CATHERINE (embracing him and taking of his coat). Let me take this off for you. It was very kind of you not to stop away. We were becoming so anxious about you.
MATHIAS. So I thought, Catherine; and that was the reason I determined to reach home tonight. (Looking round.) Ha, ha! Father Walter and Hans, you will have nice weather in which to go home. (He takes off his hat, etc. and gives them to his wife and daughter.) There! You will have to get all those things dried.
CATHERINE. Sozel, get ready your master's supper at once, and tell Nickel to take the horse to the stable!
SOZEL (within). Yes, madame.
ANNETTE. We thought perhaps that your cousin Bôth would have detained you.
MATHIAS (unbuttoning his gaiters). Oh, I had finished all my business yesterday morning, and I wished to come away; but Bôth made me stop to see a performance in the town.
ANNETTE. A performance! Is Punchinello at Ribeauville?
MATHIAS. No, it was not Punchinello. It was a Parisian who did extraordinary tricks. He sent people to sleep.
ANNETTE. Sent people to sleep!
MATHIAS. Yes.
CATHERINE. He gave them something to drink, no doubt.
MATHIAS. No; he simply looked at them and made signs, and they went fast asleep.--It certainly was an astonishing performance. If I had not myself seen it I should never have believed it.
HANS. Ah! the Brigadier Stenger was telling me about it the other day. He had seen the same thing at Saverne. This Parisian sends people to sleep, and when they are asleep he makes them tell him everything that weighs upon their consciences.
MATHIAS. Exactly. Annette?
ANNETTE. What, father?
MATHIAS. Look in the big pocket of my cloak.
Enter SOZEL.
Sozel! take these gaiters and spurs; hang them in the stable with the harness.
SOZEL. Yes, Burgomaster. (Exit.)
ANNETTE, who has taken a small box out of the pocket of the cloak, approaches her father. Music.
ANNETTE. What is it, father?
MATHIAS. Open the box.
She opens the box, and takes out a handsome Alsatian hat, with gold and silver stars upon it--the others approach to look at it.
ANNETTE. Oh, how pretty! Is it for me?
MATHIAS. For whom else could it be? Not for Sozel, I fancy.
ANNETTE puts on the hat after taking off her ribbon, and looks at herself in glass on sideboard--all express admiration.
ANNETTE. Oh! What will Christian say?
MATHIAS. He will say you are the prettiest girl in the province.
ANNETTE (kissing her father). Thank you, dear father. How good you are!
MATHIAS. It is my wedding present, Annette. The day of your marriage I wish you to wear it, and to preserve it for ever. In fifteen or twenty years hence, will you remember your father gave it you?
ANNETTE (with emotion). Yes, dear father!
MATHIAS. All that I wish is to see you happy with Christian. (Music ceases.) And now for supper and some wine. (To WALTER and HANS.) You will stop and take a glass of wine with me?
WALTER. With pleasure, Burgomaster.
HANS. For you, Burgomaster, we will try and make that little effort.
SOZEL has entered with tray of supper and wine which she has placed upon table. MATHIAS now sits at table, helps wine, and then commences to eat with a good appetite. SOZEL draws the curtains across window at back, and exits.
MATHIAS. There is one advantage about the cold. It gives you a good appetite. Here's to your health! (He drinks.)
WALTER & HANS. Here's yours, Burgomaster! (They touch glasses and drink.)
MATHIAS. Christian has not been here this evening?
ANNETTE. Yes; they came to fetch him, but he will return presently.
MATHIAS. Ah! Good! good!
CATHERINE. He came late today, in consequence of some duty he had to perform in the Hôvald, in the capture of smugglers.
MATHIAS. Nice weather for such a business. By the side of the river, I found the snow five feet deep.
WALTER. Yes; we were talking about that. We were telling the Quarter-master that since the 'Polish Jew's Winter' we had never seen weather like this.
MATHIAS, who was raising the glass to his lips, places it on the table again without drinking.
MATHIAS. Ah! you were talking of that?
Distant sound of Bells heard. To himself--'Bells! Bells!' His whole aspect changes, and he leaves off eating, and sits listening. The Bells continue louder.
HANS. That winter, you remember, Burgomaster, the whole valley was covered several feet deep with snow, and it was a long time before the horse of the Polish Jew could be dug out.
MATHIAS (with indifference). Very possibly; but that tale is too old! It is like an old woman's story now, and is thought about no more. (Watching them and starting up.) Do you not hear the sound of Bells upon the road? (The Bells still go on.)
HANS and WALTER (listening.) Bells? No!
CATHERINE. What is the matter, Mathias? You appear ill. You are cold; some warm wine will restore you. The fire in the stove is low; come, Annette, we will warm your father his wine in the kitchen. (Exeunt CATHERINE and ANNETTE.)
MATHIAS. Thank you; it is nothing.
WALTER. Come, Hans, let us go and see to the horse. At the same time, it is very strange that it was never discovered who did the deed.
MATHIAS. The rogues have escaped, more's the pity. Here's your health! (Music.)
WALTER & HANS. Thank you!
HANS. It is just upon the stroke of ten! (They drink, and go out together.)
MATHIAS (alone--comes forward and listens with terror. Music with frequent chords). Bells! Bells! (He runs to the window and slightly drawing the curtains, looks out.) No one on the road. What is this jangling in my ears? What is tonight? Ah, it is the very night--the very hour! (Clock strikes ten.) I feel a darkness coming over me. (Stage darkens.) A sensation of giddiness seizes me. (He staggers to chair.) Shall I call for help? No, no, Mathias. Have courage! The Jew is dead!
Sinks on chair; the Bells come closer; then the back of the Scene rises and sinks, disclosing the Bridge of Vechem, with the snow-covered country and frozen rivulet; lime-kiln burning in the distance. The JEW is discovered seated in sledge dressed as described in speech in Act I; the horse carrying Bells; the JEW's face is turned away. The snow is falling fast; the scene is seen through a gauze; limelight. Vision of a MAN dressed in a brown blouse and hood over his head, carrying an axe; stands in an attitude of following the sledge. When the picture is fully disclosed the Bells cease.
MATHIAS (his back to scene). Oh, it is nothing. It is the wine and cold that have overcome me!
He rises and turns; goes up stage; starts violently upon seeing the vision before him. At the same time the JEW in the sledge suddenly turns his face, which is ashy pale, and fixes his eyes sternly upon him. MATHIAS utters a prolonged cry of terror, and falls senseless. Hurried Music.
SCENE I.--Best Room in the Burgomaster's House. Door, L.; door, R.; three large windows at back, looking out upon a street of the village, the church and the buildings covered with snow. Large stove in the centre of room, practicable door to stove, tongs in grate; armchair near the stove; at L. (1st grooves) an old escritoire; near L., a table and arm-chair; chairs about room. It is morning; the room and street bright with sunlight.
As the Curtain rises to Music, MATHIAS is discovered seated in armchair at table; CATHERINE and DOCTOR ZIMMER standing at back by stove contemplating him. They advance.
DOCTOR. You feel better, Burgomaster?
MATHIAS. Yes, I am quite well.
DOCTOR. No more pains in the head?
MATHIAS. No.
DOCTOR. No more strange noises in the ears?
MATHIAS. When I tell you that I am quite well--that I never was better--that is surely enough.
CATHERINE. For a long time he has had bad dreams. He talks in his sleep, and his thirst at night is constant, and feverish.
MATHIAS. Is there anything extraordinary in being thirsty during the night?
DOCTOR. Certainly not: but you must take more care of yourself. You drink too much white wine, Burgomaster. Your attack of the night before last arose from this cause. You had taken too much wine at your cousin's, and then the severe cold having seized you, the blood had flown to the head.
MATHIAS. I was cold, but that stupid gossip about the Polish Jew was the cause of all.
DOCTOR, How was that?
MATHIAS. Well, you must know, when the Jew disappeared, they brought me the cloak and cap that had belonged to the poor devil, and the sight of them quite upset me, remembering he had, the night before, stopped at our house. Since that time I had thought no more of the matter until the night before last, when some gossip brought the affair again to my mind. It was as if I had seen the ghost of the Jew. We all know that there are no such things, but----(suddenly to his wife) Have you sent for the Notary?
CATHERINE. Yes; but you must be calm.
MATHIAS. I am calm. But Annette's marriage must take place at once. When a man in robust health and strength is liable to such an attack as I have had, nothing should be postponed till the morrow. What occurred to me the night before last might again occur tonight. I might not survive the second blow, and then I should not have seen my dear children happy. And now leave me. Whether it was the wine, or the cold, or the gossip about the Polish Jew, it comes to the same thing. It is all past and over now.
DOCTOR. But, perhaps, Burgomaster, it would be better to adjourn the signing of the marriage contract for a few days. It is an affair of so much interest and importance that the agitation might----
MATHIAS (angrily). Good heavens, why will not people attend to their own business! I was ill; you bled me--I am well again--so much the better. Let the Notary be sent for at once. Let Father Walter and Hans be summoned as witnesses, and let the whole affair be finished without further delay.
DOCTOR (to CATHERINE, aside). His nerves are still very much shaken. Perhaps it will be better to let him have his own way. (To MATHIAS.) Well, well, we'll say no more about it. Only don't forget what I have said--be careful of the white wine.
MATHIAS (angrily striking the table, turning his back). Good! Good! Ah!
The DOCTOR looks with pity towards him, bows to CATHERINE, and exits. The church bell commences to ring. Music.
CATHERINE. Annette! Annette!
ANNETTE (off). I am coming.
CATHERINE (impatiently). Be quick. Be quick.
ANNETTE. Directly--directly!
MATHIAS. Don't hurry the poor child. You know that she is dressing.
CATHERINE. But I don't take two hours to dress.
MATHIAS. You; oh! that is different. She expects Christian. He was to have been here this morning. Something has detained him.
Enter ANNETTE; she is in gala dress, and wears the golden heart upon her breast, and the hat given her by MATHIAS in Act I.
CATHERINE. At last, you are ready!
ANNETTE. Yes, I am ready.
MATHIAS (with affection). How beautiful you look, Annette.
ANNETTE. You see, dear father, I have put on the hat.
MATHIAS. You did right--you did right.
CATHERINE (impatiently). Are you not coming, Annette? The service will have commenced. Come, come.
ANNETTE. Christian has not yet been here.
MATHIAS. No, you may be sure some business detains him.
CATHERINE. Do come, Annette; you will see Christian by and by. (Exit, ANNETTE is following.)
MATHIAS. Annette, Annette! Have you nothing to say to me?
ANNETTE runs to him, and kisses him--he embraces her with affection.
ANNETTE. You know, dear father, how much I love you.
MATHIAS. Yes, yes. There, go now, dear child; your mother is impatient. (Exit ANNETTE.)
The villagers, MEN and WOMEN in Sunday clothes, pass the window in couples. MATHIAS goes up and looks through the window, ANNETTE and CATHERINE pass and kiss hands to him--a WOMAN in the group says, 'Good morning, Burgomaster.' Church bells cease. Music ceases.
MATHIAS. All goes well! Luckily all
is over. But what a lesson, Mathias--what a lesson! Would
anyone believe that the mere talk about the Jew could bring
on such a fit? Fortunately the people about here are such
idiots they suspect nothing. But it was that Parisian fellow
at the fair who was the real cause of all. The rascal had
really made me nervous. When he wanted to send me to sleep
as well as the others, I said to myself, 'Stop, stop,
Mathias--this sending you to sleep may be an invention of
the devil, you might relate certain incidents in your past
life! You must be cleverer than that, Mathias; you mustn't
run your neck into a halter, you must be cleverer than
that--ah! you must be cleverer than that.' You will die an
old man yet, Mathias, and the most respected in the
Province Enter SOZEL holding an open book;
she is in her Sunday dress.
MATHIAS. Is there anyone at the
mill?
SOZEL. No, Burgomaster. They have
all gone to church and the wheel is stopped.
MATHIAS. Don't you hear the sound of
Bells?
SOZEL. No Burgomaster, I hear
nothing. (The Bells cease.)
MATHIAS (aside).
Strange SOZEL. I was reading, Burgomaster.
MATHIAS. Reading--what? Ghost
stories, no doubt.
SOZEL. Oh, no, Burgomaster! I was
reading such a curious story, about a band of robbers being
discovered after twenty-three years had passed, and all
through the blade of an old knife having been found in a
blacksmith's shop, hidden under some rusty iron. They
captured the whole of them, consisting of the mother, two
sons, and the grandfather, and they hanged them all in a
row. Look, Burgomaster, there's the picture. (Shows
book--he strikes it violently out of her hand.)
MATHIAS. Enough, enough! It's pity
you have nothing better to do. There, go--go! (Exit
SOZEL.)
Seats himself at the table and puts remaining money
into the bag.
The fools!--not to destroy all evidence against them. To
be hanged through the blade of an old knife. Not like that--not like that am I to be caught!
Music--sprightly military air. CHRISTIAN passes at back, stops at centre
window and taps upon it. MATHIAS
looks round with a start, is reassured upon seeing who it
is, and says, 'Ah, it is Christian!' he ties up the
bag and places it in the escritoire. CHRISTIAN enters. MATHIAS meets him half way--they shake
hands. Music ceases. CHRISTIAN
is in full dress of a Quarter-master of Gendarmes.
CHRISTIAN. Good morning,
Burgomaster; I hope you are better.
MATHIAS. Oh, yes, I am well,
Christian. I have just been counting Annette's dowry, in
good sounding gold. It was a pleasure to me to do so, as it
recalled to me the days gone by, when by industry and good
fortune I had been enabled to gain it; and I thought that in
the future my children would enjoy and profit by all that I
had so acquired.
CHRISTIAN. You are right,
Burgomaster. Money gained by honest labour is the only
profitable wealth. It is the good seed which in time is sure
to bring a rich harvest.
MATHIAS. Yes, yes; especially when
the good seed is sown in good ground. The contract must be
signed today.
CHRISTIAN. Today?
MATHIAS. Yes, the sooner the better.
I hate postponements. Once decided, why adjourn the
business? It shows a great want of character.
CHRISTIAN. Well, Burgomaster,
nothing to me could be more agreeable.
MATHIAS. Annette loves you.
CHRISTIAN. Ah, she does.
MATHIAS. And the dowry is
ready--then why should not the affair be settled at once? I
hope, my boy, you will be satisfied.
CHRISTIAN. You know, Burgomaster, I
do not bring much.
MATHIAS. You bring courage and good
conduct--I will take care of the rest; and now let us talk
of other matters. You are late today. I suppose you were
busy. Annette waited for you, and was obliged to go without
you.
He goes up and sits by stove in arm-chair, opens stove
door, takes up tongs and arranges fire.
CHRISTIAN (unbuckling his sword
and sitting in chair). Ah, it was a very curious
business that detained me. Would you believe it,
Burgomaster, I was reading old depositions from five o'clock
till ten? The hours flew by, but the more I read the more I
wished to read.
MATHIAS. And what was the subject of
the depositions?
CHRISTIAN. They were about the case
of the Polish Jew who was murdered on the Bridge of Vechem
fifteen years ago.
MATHIAS (dropping the tongs).
Ah!
CHRISTIAN. Father Walter told me the
story the night before last. It seems to me very remarkable
that nothing was ever discovered.
MATHIAS. No doubt--no doubt.
CHRISTIAN. The man who committed
that murder must have been a clever fellow.
MATHIAS. Yes, he was not a fool.
CHRISTIAN. A fool! He would have
made one of the cleverest gendarmes in the department.
MATHIAS (with a smile). Do
you really think so?
CHRISTIAN. I am sure of it. There
are so many ways of detecting criminals, and so few escape,
that to have committed a crime like this, and yet to remain
undiscovered, showed the possession of extraordinary
address.
MATHIAS. I quite agree with you,
Christian; and what you say shows your good sense. When a
man has committed a crime, and by it gained money, he
becomes like a gambler, and tries his second and his third
throw. I should think it requires a great amount of courage
to resist the first success in crime.
CHRISTIAN. You are right, but what
is most remarkable to me in the case is this, that no trace
of the murdered man was ever found. Now do you know what my
idea is?
MATHIAS (rising). No, no!
What is your idea?
CHRISTIAN. Well, I find at that time
there were a great many lime-kilns in the neighbourhood of
Vechem. Now it is my idea that the murderer, to destroy all
traces of his crime, threw the body of the Jew into one of
these kilns. Old Kelz, my predecessor, evidently never
thought of that.
MATHIAS. Very likely--very likely.
Do you know that idea never occurred to me? You are the
first who ever suggested it.
CHRISTIAN. And this idea leads to
many others. Now suppose MATHIAS. Take care, Christian--take
care. Why, I myself had a lime-kiln burning at the time the
crime was committed.
CHRISTIAN (laughing). Oh,
you, Burgomaster!
MATHIAS laughs heartily.
ANNETTE and CATHERINE pass the window.
ANNETTE (as she passes the window
before entering). He is there!
Enter ANNETTE and
CATHERINE.
MATHIAS. Is the Notary here?
CATHERINE. Yes, he is in the next
room with Father Walter and Hans, and the others. He is
reading the contract to them now.
MATHIAS. Good--good!
CHRISTIAN. Oh, Annette, how that
pretty hat becomes you!
ANNETTE. Yes; it was dear father who
gave it to me. (Music.)
CHRISTIAN. It is today, Annette.
ANNETTE. Yes, Christian, it is
today.
MATHIAS. Well; you know what is
customary when father, mother, and all consent.
CHRISTIAN. What, Burgomaster?
MATHIAS (smiling). You
embrace your intended wife.
CHRISTIAN. Is that so, Annette?
ANNETTE. I don't know, Christian.
(He kisses her forehead, and leads her up to stove,
talking.)
MATHIAS. Look at our children,
Catherine; how happy they are! When I think that we were
once as happy! It's true; yes, it's true, we were once as
happy as they are now! Why are you crying, Catherine? Are
you sorry to see our children happy?
CATHERINE. No, no, Mathias; these
are tears of joy, and I can't help them. (Throws herself
upon MATHIAS' shoulder. Music
ceases.)
MATHIAS. And now to sign the
contract! (Crosses to door and throws it open.)
Walter, Hans, come in! Let everyone present come in! The
most important acts in life should always take place in the
presence of all. It is an old and honest custom of Alsace.
(Music--'The Lauterbach,' played forte.)
Enter, HANS with two
GIRLS on his arm--FATHER WALTER with two GIRLS--MEN and
WOMEN villagers
arm-in-arm NOTARY. Gentlemen and witnesses--You
have just heard read the marriage contract between Christian
Bême, Quarter-master of Gendarmes, and Annette
Mathias. Has anyone any observations to make?
SEVERAL VOICES. No, no.
NOTARY. Then we can at once proceed
to take the signatures.
MATHIAS (goes to the escritoire
and takes out the bag of gold which he places on the table
before the NOTARY). There is the
dowry. It is not in promises made on paper, but in gold.
Thirty thousand francs in good French gold.
ALL. Thirty thousand francs!
CHRISTIAN. It is too much,
Burgomaster.
MATHIAS. Not at all, not at all.
When Catherine and myself are gone there will be more. And
now, Christian--(music commences)--I wish you to make
me one promise.
CHRISTIAN. What promise?
MATHIAS. Young men are ambitious. It
is natural they should be. You must promise me that you will
remain in this village while both of us live. (Takes
CATHERINE'S hand.) You know
Annette is our only child; we love her dearly, and to lose
her altogether would break our hearts. Do you promise?
CHRISTIAN (looks to ANNETTE; she returns a glance of
approval). I do promise.
MATHIAS. Your word of honour, given
before all?
CHRISTIAN. My word of honour, given
before all. (They shake hands. Music ceases.)
MATHIAS (aside). It was
necessary. And now to sign the contract. (He goes to
table; the NOTARY hands him the
pen, and points to the place where he is to sign his
name. MATHIAS is about to write.
The Bells heard off. MATHIAS
stops, listens with terror--his face to the audience, and
away from the persons upon the stage aside.) Bells!
Courage, Mathias! (After an effort he signs rapidly--the
Bells cease--he throws the pen down.) Come, Christian,
sign! (CHRISTIAN approaches the
table to sign--as he is about to do so WALTER taps him on the shoulder. MATHIAS starts at the interruption.)
WALTER. It is not every day you sign
a contract like that.
ALL laugh. MATHIAS heaves a sigh and is
reassured. CHRISTIAN
signs--the NOTARY hands the
pen to CATHERINE, who makes her
cross--she then takes ANNETTE to
table, who signs her name. CATHERINE kisses her affectionately and
gives her to CHRISTIAN.
MATHIAS (aside). And now
should the Jew return to this world, Christian must drive
him back again. (Aloud.) Come, come, just one waltz
and then dinner.
WALTER. Stop! stop! Before we go we
must have the song of the betrothal.
ALL. Yes, yes, Annette! Annette! the
song of the betrothal.
Song, ANNETTE.
Air--'The Lauterbach' Suitors of wealth and high degree, Tyrolienne by all, and waltz.
But a soldier brave came to woo. Tyrolienne as before by all, and waltz. MATHIAS is seated--in the midst of the
waltz Bells are heard off. MATHIAS
starts up and rushes into the midst of the WALTZERS.
MATHIAS. The Bells! The Bells!
CATHERINE. Are you mad?
MATHIAS seizes her by the waist
and waltzes wildly with her.
MATHIAS. Ring on! Ring on! Houp!
Houp!
Music, forte while the waltz is at its height the drop
fall.
SCENE I.--Bedroom in the
Burgomaster's House. The whole back of Scene painted on a
gauze, alcove on left; door, R.;
two windows at back, small table by bed; chair, L. Night.
Music--Enter MATHIAS, FATHER WALTER,
HANS, CHRISTIAN, ANNETTE, and CATHERINE; SOZEL
carrying a lighted candle, bottle of water and glass,
which she places on table. They enter suddenly, the
MEN appear to be slightly excited by
wine.
HANS (laughing). Ha, ha!
Everything has gone off admirably. We only wanted something
to wind up with, and I may say that we are all as capitally
wound up as the great clock at Strasbourg.
WALTER. Yes, and what wine we have
consumed! For many a day we shall remember the signing of
Annette's marriage contract. I should like to witness such a
contract every second day.
HANS. There I object to your
argument. Every day, I say!
CHRISTIAN. And so you are
determined, Mathias, to sleep here tonight?
MATHIAS. Yes, I am decided. I wish
for air. I know what is necessary for my condition. The heat
was the cause of my accident. This room is cooler, and will
prevent its recurrence. (Laughter heard outside.)
HANS. Listen, how they are still
revelling! Come, Father Walter, let us rejoin the revels!
WALTER. But Mathias already deserts
us, just at the moment when we were beginning to thoroughly
enjoy ourselves.
MATHIAS. What more do you wish me to
do? From noon till midnight is surely enough!
WALTER. Enough, it may be, but not
too much; never too much of such wine.
HANS. There again, I object to your
argument--never enough, I say.
CATHERINE. Mathias is right. You
remember that Doctor Zimmer told him to be careful of the
wine he took, or it would one day play him false. He has
already taken too much since this morning.
MATHIAS. One glass of water before I
go to rest is all I require. It will calm me--it will calm
me.
KARL, FRITZ and TONY, three of the guests of the previous
Act, enter suddenly, slightly merry, pushing each other.
GUESTS. Goodnight, Burgomaster,
Goodnight.
TONY. I say, Hans! don't you know
that the Night Watchman is below?
HANS. The Night Watchman! What in
the name of all that is political does he want?
KARL. He requires us all to leave,
and the house to be closed. It is past hours.
MATHIAS. Give him a bumper of wine,
and then goodnight all!
WALTER. Past hours! For a
Burgomaster no regulations ought to exist.
HANS & OTHERS. Certainly not.
MATHIAS (with fierceness).
Regulations made for all must be obeyed by all.
WALTER (timidly). Well, then,
shall we go?
MATHIAS. Yes, yes, go! Leave me to
myself.
CATHERINE. Don't thwart his wish.
Follow his directions.
WALTER (shaking hands with
MATHIAS). Goodnight, Mathias. I wish
you calm repose, and no unpleasant dreams.
MATHIAS (fiercely). I never
dream. (Mildly.) Goodnight, all. Go, friends, go.
Music. Exeunt WALTER, HANS,
and the three GUESTS,
saying, 'Goodnight, Burgomaster.' CATHERINE, ANNETTE and CHRISTIAN remain.
MATHIAS. Goodnight, Catherine.
(Embracing her.) I shall be better here. The wine,
the riot, those songs have quite dazed my brain. I shall
sleep better here; I shall sleep better.
CHRISTIAN. Yes, this room is fresh
and cool. Goodnight.
MATHIAS. The same to you, Christian;
the same to you. (They shake hands.)
ANNETTE (running to her father
and kissing him). Goodnight, dear father; may you sleep
well!
MATHIAS (kissing her with
affection). Goodnight, dear child; do not fear for
me--do not fear.
Music. Exeunt all but MATHIAS. Music ceases. He goes up
cautiously, locks the door, and puts the key in his
pocket.
At last I am alone! Everything goes well. Christian the
gendarme is caught! Tonight I shall sleep without a fear
haunting me! If any new danger should threaten the
father CHORUS OF REVELLERS
outside (Without accompaniment).
Now, since we must part, let's drain a last
glass; Loud laughter heard outside.
MATHIAS (taking off his
coat). Ha, ha, ha! Those jolly topers have got all they
want. What holes in the snow they will make before they
reach their homes! Drink! Drink! Is it not strange? To drink
and drown every remorse! Yes, everything goes well! (He
drinks a glass of water.) Mathias, you can at least
boast of having well managed your affairs--the contract
signed-- He enters the alcove. The Chorus of Revellers heard
again in the distance. A hand is extended from alcove and
extinguishes the candle--stage dark. Curtain at back of
gauze rises, disclosing an extensive set of a Court of
Justice, arched, brilliantly lighted--at back, three
JUDGES on the bench, dressed in
black caps and red robes--at R.
and L., the PUBLIC, in Alsatian costumes--in front of
the JUDGES, but beneath them, a
table, on which lies the Jew's cloak and cap--on R., the PUBLIC
PROSECUTOR and BARRISTERS--on L.,
the CLERK or REGISTRAR OF THE COURT, and BARRISTERS--a GENDARME at each corner of the Court.
MATHIAS is discovered seated on a
stool in C. of Court--he is
dressed in the brown blouse and hood worn by the MAN in the vision in Act I--he has his
back to the AUDIENCE, face
to JUDGES.
THE CLERK. Therefore, the prisoner,
Mathias, is accused of having, on the night of the 24th
December, 1818, between midnight and one o'clock,
assassinated the Jew Koveski upon the Bridge of Vechem, to
rob him of his gold.
PRESIDENT. Prisoner, you have heard
the Act of Accusation read; you have already heard the
depositions of the witnesses. What have you to say in
answer?
MATHIAS (violently--throws back
hood, and starting up). Witnesses! People who saw
nothing; people who live miles from the place where the
crime was committed; at night, and in the winter time! you
call such people witnesses!
PRESIDENT. Answer with calmness;
these gestures--this violence will avail you nothing. You
are a man full of cunning.
MATHIAS (with humility). No,
I am a man of simplicity.
PRESIDENT. You knew well the time to
select; you knew well how to evade all suspicion; you knew
well how to destroy all direct evidence. You are a dangerous
man!
MATHIAS (derisively). Because
nothing can be proved against me I am dangerous! Every
honest man then is dangerous when nothing can be proved
against him! A rare encouragement for honesty!
PRESIDENT. The public voice accuses
you. Answer me this; how is it that you heal the noise of
Bells?
MATHIAS (passionately). I do
not heal the noise of Bells!
Music. Bells heard was before. MATHIAS trembles.
PRESIDENT. Prisoner, you speak
falsely. At this moment you hear that noise. Tell us why is
this?
MATHIAS. It is nothing. It is simply
a jangling in my ears.
PRESIDENT. Unless you acknowledge
the true cause of this noise you hear, we shall summon the
Mesmerist to explain the matter to us.
MATHIAS (with defiance). It
is true then that I hear this noise. (Bells cease.)
PRESIDENT (to the CLERK OF THE COURT). It is well; write that
down.
MATHIAS. Yes; but I hear it in a
dream.
PRESIDENT. Write that he hears it in
a dream.
MATHIAS (furiously). Is it a
crime to dream?
THE CROWD (murmur very softly
among themselves, and move simultaneously, each person
performing exactly the same movement of negation).
N-N-N-o!
MATHIAS (with confidence).
Listen, friends! Don't fear for me! All this is but a
dream--I am in a dream. If it were not a dream should I be
clothed in these rags? Should I have before me such judges
as these? Judges who, simply acting upon their own empty
ideas, would hang a fellow creature. Ha, ha, ha! It is a
dream--a dream! (He bursts into a loud derisive
laugh.)
PRESIDENT. Silence,
prisoner MATHIAS. It is false; I have no
memories.
PRESIDENT. Be silent!
MATHIAS (with rage). A man
cannot be condemned upon such suppositions. You must have
proofs. I do not hear the noise of Bells.
PRESIDENT. You see, gentlemen, the
prisoner contradicts himself. He has already made the
avowal--now he retracts it.
MATHIAS. No! I hear nothing. (The
Bells heard.) It is the blood rushing to my brain--this
jangling in my ears. (The Bells increase in sound.) I
ask for Christian. Why is not Christian here?
PRESIDENT. Prisoner! do you persist
in your denial?
MATHIAS (with force). Yes.
There is nothing proved against me. It is a gross injustice
to keep an honest man in prison. I suffer in the cause of
justice. (The Bells cease.)
PRESIDENT. You persist. Well!
Considering that since this affair took place fifteen years
have passed, and that it is impossible to throw light upon
the circumstances by ordinary means--first, through the
cunning and audacity of the prisoner, and second, through
the deaths of witnesses who could have given evidence--for
these reasons we decree that the Court hear the Mesmerist.
Officer, summon the Mesmerist.
MATHIAS (in a terrible
voice). I oppose it! I oppose it! Dreams prove nothing.
PRESIDENT. Summon the Mesmerist!
(Exit GENDARME.)
MATHIAS (striking the table).
It is abominable! It is in defiance of all justice!
PRESIDENT. If you are innocent, why
should you fear the Mesmerist; because he can read the
inmost secrets of your heart? Be calm, or, believe me, your
own indiscretion will prove that you are guilty.
MATHIAS. I demand an advocate. I
wish to instruct the advocate Linder of Saverne. In a case
like this, I do not care for cost. I am calm--as calm as any
man who has no reproach against himself. I fear nothing, but
dreams are dreams. (Loudly.) Why is Christian not
here? My honour is his honour! Let him be sent for. He is an
honest man. (With exultation.) Christian, I have made
you rich. Come, and defend me!
Music. The GENDARME who
has gone out returns with the MESMERIST.
MESMERIST (bending to the Court
respectfully). Your honours, the President and Judges of
the Court, it is your decree that has brought me before your
tribunal; without such direction, terror alone would have
kept me far from here.
MATHIAS. Who can believe in the
follies of the Mesmerists? They deceive the public for the
purpose of gaining money! They merely perform the tricks of
conjurers! I have seen this fellow already at my cousin
Bôth's, at Ribeauville.
PRESIDENT. Can you send this man to
sleep?
MESMERIST (looking full at
MATHIAS, who sinks upon chair,
unable to endure the MESMERIST'S
gaze). I can!
MATHIAS (starting up). I will
not be made the subject of this conjurer's experiments.
PRESIDENT. I command it!
MATHIAS. Christian--Where is
Christian? He will prove that I am an honest man.
PRESIDENT. Your resistance betrays
you.
MATHIAS (with defiance). I
have no fear. (Sits.)
The MESMERIST goes up
stage to back of MATHIAS, makes
some passes. Music.
MATHIAS (to himself).
Mathias, if you sleep you are lost. (His eyes are fixed
as if struck with horror--in a hollow voice) No--no--I
will not sleep--I will--(in a hesitating voice) I
will not--no----(Falls asleep. Music ceases.)
MESMERIST. He sleeps. What shall I
ask him?
PRESIDENT. Ask him what he did on
the night of the 24th of December, fifteen years ago.
MESMERIST (to MATHIAS, in a firm voice). You are at
the night of the 24th December, 1818?
MATHIAS (in a low voice).
Yes.
MESMERIST. What time is it?
MATHIAS. Half-past eleven.
MESMERIST. Speak on. I command you!
MATHIAS (still in the same
attitude, speaking as if he were describing a vision
presented to his sight). The people are leaving the inn--Catherine and little Annette have gone to rest. Our man
Kasper comes in. He tells me the lime-kiln is lighted. I
answer him, it is well; go to bed, I will see to the kiln.
He leaves me; I am alone with the Jew, who warms himself at
the stove. Outside, everything sleeps. Nothing is heard,
except from time to time the Jew's horse under the shed,
when he shakes his bells.
MESMERIST. Of what are you thinking?
MATHIAS. I am thinking that I must
have money--that if I have not three thousand francs by the
31st, the inn will be taken from me. I am thinking that no
one is stirring; that it is night; that there are two feet
of snow upon the ground, and that the Jew will follow the
high road quite alone!
MESMERIST. Have you already decided
to attack him?
MATHIAS (after a short
silence). That man is strong. He has broad shoulders. I
am thinking that he would defend himself well, should anyone
attack him. (He makes a movement.)
MESMERIST. What ails you?
MATHIAS (in a low voice). He
looks at me. He has grey eyes. (As if speaking to
himself.) I must strike the blow!
MESMERIST. You are decided?
MATHIAS. Yes--yes; I will strike the
blow! I will risk it!
MESMERIST. Go on!
MATHIAS. I must, however, look
round. I go out; all is dark! It still snows; no one will
trace my footsteps in the snow. (He raises his hands as
if feeling for something.)
MESMERIST. What are you doing?
MATHIAS. I am feeling in the
sledge--should he carry pistols! There is nothing--I will
strike the blow! (He listens.) All is silent in the
village! Little Annette is crying; a goat bleats in the
stable; the Jew is walking in his room!
MESMERIST. You re-enter?
MATHIAS. Yes. The Jew has placed six
francs upon the table; I return his money; he fixes his eyes
steadily upon me!
MESMERIST. He speaks to you.
MATHIAS. He asks me how far it is to
Mutzig? Four leagues. I wish him well on his journey! He
answers--'God bless you!' He goes out--he is gone! (MATHIAS, with body bent, takes several
steps forward as if following and watching his victim; he
extends his hands.) The axe! Where is the axe? Ah, here,
behind the door! How cold it is! (He trembles.) The
snow falls--not a star! Courage, Mathias, you shall possess
the girdle MESMERIST. You follow him?
MATHIAS. Yes, yes. I have crossed
the fields! (Pointing.) Here is the old bridge, and
there below, the frozen rivulet! How the dogs howl at
Daniel's farm--how they howl! And old Finck's forge, how
brightly it glows upon the hillock. (Low, as if speaking
to himself.) Kill a man!--kill a man! You will not do
that, Mathias--you will not do that! Heaven forbids it.
(Proceeding to walk with measured steps and bent
body.) You are a fool! Listen, you will be rich; your
wife and child will no longer want for anything! The Jew
came; so much the worse--so much the worse. He ought not to
have come! You will pay all you owe; you will no more be in
debt. (Loud, in a broken tone.) It must be, Mathias,
that you kill him! (He listens.) No one on the road--no one! (With an expression of terror.) What
dreadful silence! (He wipes his forehead with his
hand.) One o'clock strikes, and the moon shines. Ah! The
Jew has already passed! Thank God! Thank God! (He
kneels--a pause--he listens--the Bells heard without as
before.) No! The Bells! The Bells! He comes! (He
bends down in a watching attitude, and remains still--a
pause--in a low voice.) You will be rich--you will be
rich--you will be rich! (The noise of the Bells
increases MESMERIST. Where are you going?
MATHIAS (stopping). To the
lime-kiln. I am there. (He appears to throw the body upon
the kiln.) How heavy he was! (He breathes with force;
then he again bends down to take up a pole--in a hoarse
voice) Go into the fire, Jew, go into the fire! (He
appears to push the body with the pole, using his whole
force; suddenly he utters a cry of horror and staggers away,
his face covered with his hands.) Those eyes, oh, those
eyes! How he glares at me. (He sinks on to stool, and
takes the same attitude as when first thrown into
sleep.)
PRESIDENT (with a sign to the
MESMERIST). It is well. (To the
CLERK OF THE COURT.) You have written
all?
CLERK. All!
PRESIDENT. It is well--awake him
now, and let him read himself.
MESMERIST. Awake! I command you!
MATHIAS (awakes gradually--he
appears bewildered). Where am I? (He looks
round.) Ah! Yes; what is going on?
CLERK (handing him paper).
Here is your deposition--read it.
MATHIAS (takes it and, before
reading it, aside). Wretched, wretched fool! I have told
all; I am lost! (With rage, after reading the paper.)
It is false! (Tears the paper into pieces.) You are a
set of rogues! Christian--where is Christian? It is a crime
against justice! They will not let my only witness speak.
Christian! They would kill the father of your wife! Help
me--help me!
PRESIDENT. You force me to speak of
an event of which I had wished to remain silent. Your
son-in-law Christian, upon hearing of the crimes with which
you are charged, by his own hand sought his death. He is no
more.
MATHIAS. Ah! (He appears
stupefied with dismay.)
PRESIDENT (after consulting the
other JUDGES, rises, speaks in a solemn
tone of voice.) Considering that on the night of the
24th December, 1818, between midnight and one o'clock,
Mathias committed the crime of assassination upon the person
of one Koveski, and considering that this crime was
committed under circumstances which aggravate its enormity
such as premeditation, and for the purpose of highway
robbery, the Court condemns the said Mathias to be hanged by
the neck until he is dead!
MATHIAS staggers and falls on his
knees. The CROWD makes a movement of
terror--the death-knell tolls--lights lowered gradually--then curtain at back of gauze descends, disclosing the
Scene as at commencement--lights up. Music--a peal of joy
bells heard ringing.
CROWD (without). Annette! Annette! The bride!
Hurried steps are heard upon the stairs outside, and
then a loud knocking at the door of the room.
CATHERINE (without). Mathias!
Mathias! get up at once. It is late in the morning, and all
our guests are below. (More knocking.)
CHRISTIAN (without). Mathias!
Mathias! (Silence.) How soundly he sleeps!
WALTER (without). Ho!
Mathias, the wedding has commenced THE CROWD (outside). Burgomaster! Burgomaster!
(Loud knocking.)
CATHERINE (in an anxious
voice). He does not answer. It is strange. Mathias!
(A discussion among many voices is heard without.)
CHRISTIAN. No--it is useless. Leave
it to me!
At the same moment several violent blows are struck
upon the door, which falls into the room from its hinges.
Enter CHRISTIAN hurriedly--he
runs to the alcove. Music, hurry.
CHRISTIAN. Mathias! (Looks into
alcove and staggers back into room.) Ah!
Enter CATHERINE and
ANNETTE, followed by WALTER, HANS, and the CROWD, all dressed for the wedding.
CATHERINE. What has happened,
Christian; what has happened? (She is rushing to
alcove.)
CHRISTIAN (stopping her).
Don't come near--don't come near.
CATHERINE (endeavouring to
pass). I will see what it is. Let me pass; do not fear
for me.
MATHIAS appears from the
alcove--he is dressed in the same clothes as when he retired
into the alcove at the commencement of the Scene, but his
face is haggard, and ghastly pale--he comes out, his eyes
fixed, his arms extended--as he rushes forward with
uncertain steps, the CROWD fall back with horror, and form
groups of consternation, with a general exclamation of
terror.
MATHIAS (in a voice of
strangulation). The rope! the rope! Cut the rope!
He falls suddenly, and is caught in the arms of
HANS and WALTER, who carry him to the chair. The
Bells heard off. Music, the melody played in the Second Act
when promise given. His hands clutch at his throat as if to
remove something that strangles him--he looks pitifully
round as if trying to recognise those about him, and then
his head falls on his breast. CATHERINE, kneeling, places her hand
on MATHIAS heart.
CATHERINE. Dead! (The Bells
cease.)
ANNETTE bursts into tears.
The WOMEN in the crowd
kneeling; MEN remove their hats
and bend their heads upon their breasts tableau.
In style superbly grand,
Tendered their love on bended knee
And sought to win my hand.
No maid such love could spurn
Proving his heart was fond and true,
Won my love in return.
ACT III
Let's drink!
Let us first drink to this gentle young lass:
Let's drink!
From drinking this toast, we'll none of us shrink;
Others shall follow, when we've time to think.
Our burden shall be, let us drink!
The burden to bear is good drink.
CURTAIN