Perfectly in earnest. Why should I wish to seem to you different from what I am? We journalists feed our minds on the daily news; we must taste the dishes Satan cooks for men down to the smallest morsel; so you really should make allowances for us. The daily vexation over failure and wrong doing, the perpetual little excitements over all sorts of things--that has an effect upon a man. At first one clenches one"s fist, then one learns to laugh at it. If you work only for the day you come to live for the day.
ADELAIDE (_perturbed_).
But that is sad, I think.
BOLZ.
On the contrary, it is quite amusing. We buzz like bees, in spirit we fly through the whole world, suck honey when we find it, and sting when something displeases us. Such a life is not apt to make great heroes, but queer d.i.c.ks like us are also needed.
ADELAIDE (_aside_).
Now he too is at it, and he is even worse than the other one.
BOLZ.
We won"t waste sentiment on that account. I scribble away so long as it goes. When it no longer goes, others take my place and do the same.
When Conrad Bolz, the grain of wheat, has been crushed in the great mill, other grains fall on the stones until the flour is ready from which the future, possibly, will bake good bread for the benefit of the many.
ADELAIDE.
No, no, that is morbidness; such resignation is wrong.
BOLZ.
Such resignation will eventually be found in every profession. It is not your lot. To you is due a different kind of happiness, and you will find it. (_Feelingly_.) Adelaide, as a boy I wrote you tender verses and lulled myself in foolish dreams. I was very fond of you, and the wound our separation inflicted still smarts at times.
[ADELAIDE _makes a deprecatory gesture_.] Don"t be alarmed, I am not going to pain you. I long begrudged my fate, and had moments when I felt like an outcast. But now when you stand there before me in full radiancy, so lovely, so desirable, when my feeling for you is as warm as ever, I must say to you all the same: Your father, it is true, treated me roughly; but that he separated us, that he prevented you, the rich heiress, who could claim anything, with your own exclusive circle of friends, from throwing herself away on a wild boy who had always shown more presumption than power--that was really very sensible, and he acted quite rightly in the matter.
ADELAIDE (_in her agitation seizing his hands_).
Thank you, Conrad, thank you for speaking so of my dead father! Yes, you are good, you have a heart. It makes me very happy that you should have shown it to me.
BOLZ.
It is only a tiny little pocket-heart for private use. It was quite against my will that it happened to make its appearance.
ADELAIDE.
And now enough of us two! Here in this house our help is needed. You have won, have completely prevailed against us. I submit, and acknowledge you my master. But now show mercy and let us join forces.
In this conflict of you men a rude blow has been struck at the heart of a girl whom I love. I should like to make that good again and I want you to help me.
BOLZ.
I am at your command.
ADELAIDE.
The Colonel must be reconciled. Think up some way of healing his injured self-esteem.
BOLZ.
I have thought it over and have taken some steps. Unfortunately, all I can do is to make him feel that his anger at Oldendorf is folly. This soft conciliatory impulse you alone can inspire.
ADELAIDE.
Then we women must try our luck.
BOLZ.
Meanwhile I will hurry and do what little I can.
ADELAIDE.
Farewell, Mr. Editor. And think not only of the progress of the great world, but also occasionally of one friend, who suffers from the base egotism of wishing to be happy on her own account.
BOLZ.
You have always found your happiness in looking after the happiness of others. With that kind of egotism there is no difficulty in being happy. [_Exit_.]
ADELAIDE (_alone_).
He still loves me! He is a man with feeling and generosity. But he, too, is resigned. They are all _ill_--these men! They have no courage!
From pure learning and introspection they have lost all confidence in themselves. This Conrad! Why doesn"t he say to me: "Adelaide, I want you to be my wife?" He can be brazen enough when he wants to! G.o.d forbid! He philosophizes about my kind of happiness and his kind of happiness! It was all very fine, but sheer nonsense.--My young country-squires are quite different. They have no great burden of wisdom and have more whims and prejudices than they ought to; but they do their hating and loving thoroughly and boldly, and never forget their own advantage. They are the better for it! Praised be the country, the fresh air, and my broad acres! [_Pause; with decision_.]
The _Union_ is to be sold! Conrad must come to the country to get rid of his crotchets! [_Sits down and writes; rings; enter_ CARL.] Take this note to Judge Schwarz; I want him kindly to come to me on urgent business.
[_Exit_ CARL.]
_Enter_ IDA _through the side door on the left_.
IDA.
I am too restless to keep still! Let me cry here to my heart"s content! [_Weeps on_ ADELAIDE"S _neck_.]
ADELAIDE (_tenderly_).
Poor child! The bad men have been very cruel to you. It"s all right for you to grieve, darling, but don"t be so still and resigned!
IDA.
I have but the one thought: he is lost to me--lost forever!
ADELAIDE.
You are a dear good girl. But be rea.s.sured! You haven"t lost him at all. On the contrary, we"ll see to it that you get him back better than ever. With blushing cheeks and bright eyes he shall reappear to you, the n.o.ble man, your chosen demiG.o.d--and your pardon the demiG.o.d shall ask for having caused you pain!--
IDA (_looking up at her_).
What are you telling me?