Richard.
(_Making a perceptible effort to change the conversation_.) My dear Countess, no one ever ventures to dispute your statements. But there is one family about which I want to say a word and that is the one we are in. (_Rising_.) I drink to the house of Kellinghausen!
The Others.
Hear--hear!
Richard.
The house of Kellinghausen! As I look back over my life, I don"t know how to sum up all I owe to it. (_He turns to_ Beata.) To you, my dear friend----
Kellinghausen (_with forced gaiety_).
Is this a settlement in full, my dear fellow?
Richard.
(_Taken aback, but recovering himself instantly_.) You"re right, Michael. There"s no use trying; but there"s something I want to say to you.
Kellinghausen.
Hear! hear!
Richard (_to the others_).
Since yesterday, you all know what I owe him. My success is his doing, all his doing. If I"ve gained my end, if I"ve reached the goal at last, it"s to Kellinghausen I owe it. Here"s to my good friend and yours!
The Others.
Hear! Hear! (_They clink their gla.s.ses_.)
Kellinghausen.
(_With a strained laugh, as he and_ Richard _touch gla.s.ses_.) You might have left that out.
Richard.
I should have written it if I hadn"t said it.
Kellinghausen (_still on his feet_).
Gentlemen--Beata--I may speak for all of you, I believe? I think our friend Volkerlingk proved conclusively yesterday that if he has taken my place it is because he has the best right to it. (_On the verge of an outburst_.) A better right to it--than-- (_He is checked by a terrified glance from_ Beata, _who utters a low exclamation_.) Well--well--I"m not much of a speech-maker.--Gentlemen--Beata--long life to our friend Volkerlingk--long life to my successor!
Beata.
(_In a low voice, while the others gather about_ Richard.) Long life to him! (_She presses her hand to her heart, and rests heavily against the arm of her chair_.)
Prince (_to_ Kellinghausen).
Is anything wrong with the Countess?
Kellinghausen.
Beata!
Beata (_raising herself with a smile_).
Yes?
Kellinghausen.
Would you not rather go into the drawing-room? You look tired. (_She shakes her head_.)
Richard.
(_In a formal tone, with a glance at_ Michael.) We all beg of you, Countess----
Beata.
(_Looking from one to the other with growing apprehension_.) No--no--no--I"m quite--quite--on the contrary--_I_ have a toast to propose. (Richard _makes a startled gesture_.) Yes--a toast of my own!
But please all sit down first----
Prince.
Woman disposes!
Kellinghausen.
Beata, you are overtaxing yourself. Be careful.
Beata.
My dear friends, you all go on wishing each other a long life but which of us is really alive? Which of us really dares to live? Somewhere, far off in the distance, we catch a glimpse of life--but we hide our eyes and shrink away from it like transgressors. And that"s our nearest approach to living! Do you really think you"re alive--any one of you?
Or do you think I am? (_She springs up with an inspired look_.) But I, at least--I--whose whole life is one long struggle against death--I who never sleep, who hardly breathe, who barely stand--I at least know how to laugh, how to love life and be thankful for it! (_She staggers to her feet, raising her gla.s.s, her voice no more than a hoa.r.s.e whisper_.) And as the only living soul among you, I drink to the joy of living!
The Others (_holding out their gla.s.ses_).
Good! Good! Bravo!
Beata.
(_Draws a deep breath, sets down her gla.s.s, and looks about her confusedly. Her eyes rest on_ Richard, _and then turn to_ Michael, _to whom she speaks_.) I think I will take your advice and go into the other room for a little while. (_She rises with an effort_.)
Kellinghausen.
There, Beata! I warned you.
Baron Ludwig (_offering her his arm_).