FRAU V. BROOK. [_Amazed._] What? What! Why, Your Highness----!
THE PRINCESS. Let me be, Eugenie. This young man and I have become far too good friends to part in such an unfriendly, yes, almost hostile fashion.
FRAU V. BROOK. Your Highness, I am _very_ much----
THE PRINCESS. [_To_ STRuBEL.] You and I will certainly remember this hour with great pleasure, and I thank you for it with all my heart. If I only had a rose with me, so as to give you your dear wish! Eugenie, haven"t we any roses with us?
FRAU V. BROOK. Your Highness, I am _very_ much----
THE PRINCESS. [_Examining herself and searching among the vases._] Well, how are we going to manage it?
STRuBEL. I most humbly thank--your Highness--for the kind intention.
THE PRINCESS. No, no--wait! [_Her glance falls upon the hat which she is holding in her hand--with a sudden thought._] I have it! But don"t think that I"m joking. And we"ll have to do without scissors! [_She tears one of the roses from the hat._] I don"t know whether there are just twenty--[_Holding out one of the roses to him._] Well? This rose has the merit of being just as real as the sentiment of which we were speaking before--and just as unfading.
STRuBEL. Is this--to be--my punishment? [THE PRINCESS _smilingly shakes her head_.] Or does your Highness mean by it that only the Unreal never fades?
THE PRINCESS. That"s exactly what I mean--because the Unreal must always dwell in the imagination.
STRuBEL. So that"s it! Just as it is only the _far-away_ princesses who are always near to us.
FRAU V. BROOK. Permit me to remark, Your Highness--that it is _high_ time----
THE PRINCESS. As you see, those who are near must hurry away. [_Offering him the rose again._] Well?
STRuBEL. [_Is about to take it, but lets his hand fall._] With the far-away princess there--[_pointing down_] it would have been in harmony, but with the--[_Shakes his head, then softly and with emotion._] No, thanks--I"d rather not.
[_He bows and goes out._
THE PRINCESS. [_Smiling pensively, throws away the artificial flower._]
I"m going to ask my fiance to let me send him a rose.
FRAU V. BROOK. Your Highness, I am _very_ much--surprised!
THE PRINCESS. Well, I told you that I wasn"t sleepy.
CURTAIN
THE STRONGER
BY
AUGUST STRINDBERG
AUGUST STRINDBERG
August Strindberg, Sweden"s foremost dramatist, was born at Stockholm in 1849. He attended the University of Upsala but did not graduate. In 1872 he wrote _Master Olaf_, which was for six years steadily refused by managers. When it did appear it inaugurated the Swedish dramatic renascence. By turns Strindberg was schoolmaster, journalist, dramatist, writer of scientific and political treatises, and writer of short stories. In 1883 he left Sweden and travelled extensively in Denmark, Germany, France, and Italy. He died in 1912.
As a dramatist Strindberg"s chief strength lies not so much in dramatic technique as it does in his trenchant and searching power of a.n.a.lysis of the human mind. His chief plays are very exact and narrow views of the feminine soul. Some of his own domestic bitterness finds expression in the feminine studies in his plays. He is very fond of showing the power of one character over another.
His important one-act plays are _The Outlaw_, _Countess Julie_, _Creditors_, _Pariah_, _Facing Death_, and _The Stronger_. _The Stronger_ has a dramatic intensity that few plays possess. Though but one character speaks, the souls of three are skilfully laid bare.
PERSONS
MRS. X., _an actress, married_ MISS Y., _an actress, unmarried_
THE STRONGER[M]
SCENE: _A corner of a ladies" restaurant; two small tables of cast-iron, a sofa covered with red plush, and a few chairs._
MRS. X. _enters, dressed in hat and winter coat, and carrying a pretty j.a.panese basket on her arm_.
MISS Y. _has in front of her a partly emptied bottle of beer; she is reading an ill.u.s.trated weekly, and every now and then, she exchanges it for a new one_.
MRS. X. Well, how do, Millie! Here you are sitting on Christmas Eve, as lonely as a poor bachelor.
[MISS Y. _looks up from the paper for a moment, nods, and resumes her reading_.]
MRS. X. Really, I feel sorry to find you like this--alone--alone in a restaurant, and on Christmas Eve of all times. It makes me as sad as when I saw a wedding party at Paris once in a restaurant--the bride was reading a comic paper and the groom was playing billiards with the witnesses. Ugh, when it begins that way, I thought, how will it end?
Think of it, playing billiards on his wedding day! Yes, and you"re going to say that she was reading a comic paper--- that"s a different case, my dear.
[_A waitress brings a cup of chocolate, places it before_ MRS. X., _and disappears again_.
MRS. X. [_Sips a few spoonfuls; opens the basket and displays a number of Christmas presents._] See what I"ve bought for my tots. [_Picks up a doll._] What do you think of this? Lisa is to have it. She can roll her eyes and twist her head, do you see? Fine, is it not? And here"s a cork pistol for Carl.
[_Loads the pistol and pops it at_ MISS Y. MISS Y. _starts as if frightened_.
MRS. X. Did I scare you? Why, you didn"t fear I was going to shoot you, did you? Really, I didn"t think you could believe that of me. If you were to shoot _me_--well, that wouldn"t surprise me the least. I"ve got in your way once, and I know you"ll never forget it--but I couldn"t help it. You still think I intrigued you away from the Royal Theatre, and I didn"t do anything of the kind--although you think so. But it doesn"t matter what I say, of course--you believe it was I just the same.
[_Pulls out a pair of embroidered slippers._] Well, these are for my hubby--tulips--I"ve embroidered them myself. H"m!--I hate tulips--and he must have them on everything.
[MISS Y. _looks up from the paper with an expression of mingled sarcasm and curiosity_.
MRS. X. [_Puts a hand in each slipper._] Just see what small feet Bob has. See? And you should see him walk--elegant! Of course, you"ve never seen him in slippers.
[MISS Y. _laughs aloud_.
MRS. X. Look here--here he comes.
[_Makes the slippers walk across the table._ MISS Y. _laughs again_.