Books: Moral
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Ludwig Thoma >> Moral
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FRAU BEERMANN. I have a request to make to you.
BEERMANN. With pleasure. ...
FRAU BEERMANN. Don't make a laughing-stock of your family.
BEERMANN. In what way?
FRAU BEERMANN. Don't make a laughing stock of your family, I beg
you.
BEERMANN. Please don't talk in riddles.
FRAU BEERMANN. These are not very great riddles to you.
BEERMANN. Speak plainly, won't you?
FRAU BEERMANN. No. I am not going to speak more plainly.
BEERMANN. As your husband, I demand it.
FRAU BEERMANN. N-no.
BEERMANN. That is very sad. There should be no secrets at all
between husband and wife.
FRAU BEERMANN. Is this a principle again? Fancy all these great
secrets! [Beermann shrugs his shoulders.] No. Now take it for
granted that I know a thing or two about you.
BEERMANN [with anxiety]. You?
FRAU BEERMANN. Several things. Some which you must know only too
well. After all, that principle of yours has not been violated.
There remain no secrets whatever between us.
BEERMANN. I assure you I shall not rack my brains about it.
FRAU BEERMANN. Nor would I want you to regard me as sitting in
judgment on your acts.
BEERMANN [with a false pathos]. Instead of telling me freely and
frankly of the gossip you have heard about me; then I could defend
myself.
FRAU BEERMANN. That is just what I want to avoid. To me it appears
somewhat childish when a man tries to justify ...
BEERMANN [just as before]. In this manner, the lowest gossip can
destroy the happiness of any family.
FRAU BEERMANN [seriously]. Fritz, really, there is no one
listening to us just now.
BEERMANN. You are not taking me in earnest.
FRAU BEERMANN. No, and it is our good fortune that I am not. At
least, my good fortune.
BEERMANN. You call that good fortune? I might have expected
something different from you.
FRAU BEERMANN. No, sir, you did not. If you will be honest with
me, you will admit that. This many a year, we have been playing a
common farce. You acted the true Christian head of the family and
I the all-believing audience.
BEERMANN. How nice!
FRAU BEERMANN. Not nice but it's true. Perhaps the fault is not
entirely ours, for we learned it from our parents. You men are
supposed to impress us with your greatness and we women are to
stand by and admire.
BEERMANN. Do you find that impossible?
FRAU BEERMANN. Even the best Christian family principles must have
some foundation. What was I supposed to admire?
BEERMANN. You ask that now?
FRAU BEERMANN. Perhaps I gave it up sooner than others. But that
is due to our relationship. We were always together. Where is a
man to get pose and character enough to last him for twenty-four
hours every day?
BEERMANN. So that is about your conception of our married life?
FRAU BEERMANN. That is it exactly.
BEERMANN. And after all the years ...
FRAU BEERMANN. I acquired it rather early.
BEERMANN. Now, after twenty-six years you declare that you are
unhappy.
FRAU BEERMANN. No, Fritz, it has not led us to unhappiness. There
has been no sudden shattering of an ideal. Our marriage was not an
ideal and ... don't feel offended ... your personality was never
so immaculate, that one stain more or less would spoil the effect.
BEERMANN [excited]. But there must be some sort of reason back of
all these reproaches?
FRAU BEERMANN. If you think them reproaches, then we do not
understand each other.
BEERMANN. What else are they?
FRAU BEERMANN. I meant it merely as a request. Do not bring your
family into ridicule.
BEERMANN. You are playing hide and seek all the time. In what way
am I likely to do that?
FRAU BEERMANN. With your moral priesthood to which you have
absolutely no right.
BEERMANN. No right?
FRAU BEERMANN. Not the slightest one. But you are creating enemies
who will make a laughing-stock of us all, if they find out certain
things. Those things can be found out whether we like it or not.
BEERMANN [forced laughter]. Lena dear, I believe you are jealous.
FRAU BEERMANN [quietly]. Jealous, of what? [Short pause.] I hope
that you credit me with at least good taste enough not to be
jealous of my so-called right, and ... otherwise what can I lose?
No, Fritz, I am not jealous. [Short pause, it is getting darker.]
I had to get accustomed to it; that's true. This secrecy, the
petty lies and the false gravity irritated me a little bit too
much at first, but I made an effort so that I could still retain a
feeling of comradeship. I overcame it daily, because--well because
I never really took you seriously. [Pause.]
BEERMANN [with, a false pathos]. Lena, dear, do you realize what
things you are saying?
FRAU BEERMANN. Yes, fully.
BEERMANN [as above]. That is dreadful. Every word is a ...
catastrophe! I have until today, I have until this hour, believed
in our established quiet happiness. Now shall all this pass away?
FRAU BEERMANN. Nothing but your confidence in my blindness shall
pass away.
BEERMANN. Think it over. There can be no real family life after
people lose faith in each other.
FRAU BEERMANN. Oh, a person gets used even to that.
BEERMANN. No. Lena, listen. Someone has been telling you tales and
I cannot defend myself, because I don't know what I am accused of.
You must tell me everything right now. I demand it of you.
FRAU BEERMANN. If I wanted to do that, I would have to begin
"many, many years ago ..."
BEERMANN. Well, why didn't you do it then?
FRAU BEERMANN. You can well understand, I had my reasons.
BEERMANN. For such silence there can be no reasons.
FRAU BEERMANN. I could shut my eyes and remain silent. That was my
privilege. But if I had spoken out and permitted you to appease me
... no, that was something beyond me. To do that I would have been
obliged to lie and for that I, for one, have not the ability.
[Beermann makes a motion.] No, do not interrupt me. These things
will have no consequences as long as I do not wish them to, but if
I should name them, then they would have.
BEERMANN. Then shall I let this suspicion rest upon me?
FRAU BEERMANN. Yes.
BEERMANN. How coldly you speak. If what you suspect were true, you
could not be so indifferent about it.
FRAU BEERMANN. Do the by-laws of your society prescribe that in
cases like these the wife shall be unhappy?
BEERMANN. Imagine! The many years that you and I have lived
together and you had these suspicions right along and never said a
word about them. Why do you speak today?
FRAU BEERMANN. Because you have reached the point where our
friendship for one another may break. Everything I see and hear
from you now hurts me. You speak in a tone of strictness, which
must be unpleasant even to you. For weeks past there has been
nothing around me but lies. What you say to me, all that you say
to the children, and what you preached here publicly last night.
Every word hurts my ears and urges me to contradict you; I am
silent and by doing that I endorse your lies.
BEERMANN. But, Lena ...
FRAU BEERMANN. Finally when your every glance is artificial, each
motion of yours is a pose. Then it is unbearable. Add to that my
anxiety for our children. How shall they still retain faith in us,
if through an accident their eyes are opened? I had remained
silent all this time for their sake and now you are inviting the
whole world to speak. I cannot continue to live this life of worry
and hypocrisy. All that I have already overcome awakens again and
appears to me more ugly than ever before. I do not know if I can
still believe in your good fellowship and remain your friend. [She
rises and goes slowly to the door.]
BEERMANN. I do not seem to know you any more. During our entire
married life, you have not spoken as seriously as in the last
fifteen minutes.
FRAU BEERMANN. That perhaps was my great mistake. But I have paid
for it. [She opens the door.]
BEERMANN. Lena dear, have you nothing further to tell me?
FRAU BEERMANN. I just beg of you; do not bring your family into
ridicule. [Exit.]
BEERMANN [For a while remains standing; lost in thought; then he
turns on the electric light, sighing, goes over to the bookcase,
takes out the volume of the encyclopedia wherein the diary of
Madams de Hauteville is hidden, opens it and reads standing. A
knock on the door. Frightened, he quickly hides the diary in his
side pocket.]
BEERMANN. Come in. [Justizrat Hauser enters on the left.]
HAUSER. Lord; good evening.
BEERMANN [hurrying toward him]. Lord; how glad I am that you have
come.
HAUSER. Has anything happened?
BEERMANN. N ... no.
HAUSER. I received your message that you must see me tonight
without fail.
BEERMANN. Yes, I was at your house twice.
HAUSER. Unfortunately, I was not there. [He has taken off his
overcoat and is laying it on a chair.] Tell me, you seem to me all
upset.
BEERMANN. I am upset.
HAUSER. I suppose that is why you sent for me. Well, then, what is
it?
BEERMANN. Have a seat, please. [They sit down to the left on the
sofa.] I must begin a little way back. ... Have a cigar? [He goes
over to the humidor, takes out a box of cigars and offers it to
Hauser, who takes one.] I must begin a little way back ... Can you
remember the subject we discussed last night?
HAUSER. The genuinely righteous moral life? [He lights his cigar.]
Of course, I remember it. Such sermons are not easily forgotten.
BEERMANN. Do you know I got the impression that you have a rather
liberal viewpoint.
HAUSER. Liberal?
BEERMANN. I mean that you are not a prude.
HAUSER. I am an old lawyer, you know, and just out of sheer habit
contradict people. I made myself blacker than I actually am. So,
if you have scruples on my account ...
BEERMANN. I merely mentioned it because you understand life and I
must speak to someone who judges more liberally than our narrow
minded bourgeois.
HAUSER. More liberally than you judged last night?
BEERMANN. I was overzealous, but don't let us talk about it. I
want to ask you for advice. [Short pause.] You lawyers are bound
to respect professional secrets?
HAUSER. We must respect them.
BEERMANN. What I am about to tell you, you will probably find most
astounding, but it is to be considered absolutely confidential.
Even though your client confesses a crime, you are not permitted
to divulge the information?
HAUSER. What a careful criminal you are!
BEERMANN. It is possible that you will find this information most
unpleasant.
HAUSER [Bends and talks in a low voice]. Now don't worry about me,
Beermann. I will know how to protect your interests. The law gives
me the right to remain silent in any event.
BEERMANN. Well then ... [nervously runs his fingers through his
hair] I really have to begin a little way back. The last few days
I have been thinking a great deal about monogamy. I am surely the
last person to doubt the high moral value of the marriage vow, but
there is something to be said on the other side. It is indeed a
very ticklish theme to discuss.
HAUSER. Suppose then that we skip the prologue and the few opening
chapters and start at once with the affair of Madame Hauteville.
BEERMANN. How do you know ...?
HAUSER. I suspected. You probably are not the first one who has
come to confess to me. Since last night many consciences have been
jolted. So you, too, belong to that crowd?
BEERMANN. You ask yourself how such things are possible?
HAUSER. No, sir, I never ask myself such stupid questions.
BEERMANN. You have always believed that an undisturbed happiness
prevailed in my family.
HAUSER [quickly]. Beermann, I resent that! Do not try to make
yourself interesting.
BEERMANN. Don't take it the wrong way. I am not blaming anybody. I
just want to ...
HAUSER. You even want to find moral justification for your
immorality.
BEERMANN. I know well enough that it is unjustifiable. I have been
saying that to myself a hundred thousand times. Do not think that
I overcame my principles so easily.
HAUSER. All you had to overcome was your timidity.
BEERMANN [sighing deeply]. If you only knew.
HAUSER. Of course you did not land on the primrose path with both
feet, but you climbed carefully over the fence--just as befits a
man of your embonpoint.
BEERMANN. I expected something better from you than mere mocking.
HAUSER. What do you want me to do? Shall I weep because you have
sinned? Why? What good would it do you? That is the way of your
kind. As long as no one has proofs against you, your virtue must
always be under the spotlight, but the very minute you trip up,
some peculiar background of justification ought to be invented for
the smallest sin. No, my dear friend. The world's moral system
will not go to pieces just because you slipped and broke your
nose.
BEERMANN. You cannot realize what suffering you are inflicting
upon me right now.
HAUSER. Now please don't make long speeches. You did not call me
here to grant you absolution. You want me to help you to quash
this affair.
BEERMANN [jumps up quickly from his chair]. Yes, you must do that.
Good Lord, I beg you. I am in a terrible position. You have not
the slightest idea how nervous I am.
HAUSER. Will you please sit down and stop exaggerating?
BEERMANN [sits down]. No man living can have sufficient
imagination to enlarge on this. Imagine it! Any moment the police
are likely to come here and arrest me.
HAUSER [seriously]. Have you been carrying on so badly at
Hauteville's?
BEERMANN. No. Not there. That is not worth while mentioning.
HAUSER. Why then do you fear the police? That's all nonsense. Now
just consider everything quietly and calmly. By the way, has your
wife any suspicions ...?
BEERMANN. Of this affair? I don't think so. She has just a general
one ... but what's the use of bothering with trifles! You know
that this stupid woman kept a diary, and that they found it in her
apartment.
HAUSER. Assuredly I know it. Without that diary we would not have
so many penitents in the City.
BEERMANN. Imagine my position. I know positively that my name is
in that book. It means that I am simply done for by the cursed
thing.
HAUSER. Is it so certain that your name is in the book?
BEERMANN [loudly]. Yes, sir.
HAUSER. It may be possible that ...
BEERMANN. It is not at all possible. My name is there. Shall I
quietly sit and wait until I am ruined? You know that I would be
ruined if it became public. Fancy, I, the candidate for the
Reichstag; I, the President of the Society for the Suppression of
Vice! All the papers would be full of it.
HAUSER. Oh, yes, it would be quite interesting.
BEERMANN. Then think of the consequences here in the City! In the
family! Why, I would be killed outright! Lord, how I tried to
hammer it into the head of that stupid man in the Police
Department so he could understand what terrible mischief this will
make.
HAUSER [frightened]. You went to Police Headquarters?
BEERMANN. Of course, I was there.
HAUSER. Did you confess?
BEERMANN. How can you suppose that? [Sits down again.] I spoke for
the others. I explained to the official that he is showing up the
influential element; that he is injuring the established order of
society,--but [he touches his forehead with his palm] that fellow
has nothing but police ordinances in his head.
HAUSER. Shouting will not help us a bit. Remain cool and
collected. One thing is important, at this moment. Has the diary
reached the District Attorney's office?
BEERMANN. No, it has not.
HAUSER. Well, as long as it remains in the Police Department there
are still possibilities.
BEERMANN. It is not in the Police Department either.
HAUSER. Of course it is there. Where else should it be?
BEERMANN [indicating his side pocket]. Here.
HAUSER [amazed]. What?
BEERMANN [takes the diary out of his side pocket and places it on
the table]. Here it is.
HAUSER. So, this is the celebrated diary of Madame Hauteville.
[Beermann nods.] Who gave it to you?
BEERMANN. Nobody. I just took it.
HAUSER. You mean; you sto ...
BEERMANN. ... Stole it, yes, sir.
HAUSER [pulls back his chair and breaks into a loud laugh]. You
did that! [He laughs.] ... Say, that's pretty good. Now I am
beginning to respect you. Confound it, I would never have given
you credit for a stunt like this. [He laughs and slaps his knee.]
BEERMANN. Laugh, while I am dying of fright.
HAUSER. Don't spoil my good impression of you! I am on the point
of admiring you. [He laughs again.] Let me apologize. I always
held you as a wishy-washy bourgeois and now you go and pull this
thing off.
BEERMANN. You had better give me some advice. I have not had a
quiet moment since I took the book. I want to destroy it but how
can I? If I tear it up the pieces will be found.
HAUSER. Burn it.
BEERMANN. Where? There is no fire in the house, except in the
kitchen range. If I hide it, I shall always have to run to and fro
to see if it is there, and I feel less safe if I have it on my
person. Then I have always a feeling as though that thing were
bulging out my pocket; and the police must be missing it by this
time.
HAUSER. Oh, tear out the page on which your name appears and send
it back anonymously.
BEERMANN. Impossible. My name appears on almost every second page.
HAUSER. Oh ... so.
BEERMANN. What shall I do when the police ask me for the book?
HAUSER. There is only one way; you know nothing about it.
BEERMANN. But they will be dead certain that I have it.
HAUSER. Remain firm. For Heaven's sake don't fall into the trap
that by confessing you will improve this fine job. [A loud and
prolonged ringing of the electric bell is heard.]
BEERMANN [frightened, exclaims]. There, do you hear that?
HAUSER. Some visitor, I suppose.
BEERMANN. This is no time to make visits. [Anxiously picking up
the diary.] What shall I do with the damned thing? [Takes out a
volume of the encyclopedia and wants to hide the diary in it but
hesitates, and then puts the volume back on the shelf.] Lord,
where shall I put it?
HAUSER. Come, give it to me.
BEERMANN [Gives him the book and Hauser puts it in his side
pocket.]
HAUSER. No one will search me for it.
BEERMANN. Stay here with me ... please.
HAUSER. If it gives you any pleasure, yes; but man alive, pull
yourself together. Suppose it really were the police; you are
trembling all over. [A knock on the door.]
BEERMANN [crouching]. Quiet now. [Another knock.] Come in. [Betty
comes in from the left and hands Beermann a visiting card.]
BETTY. The gentleman says it is very urgent.
BEERMANN [with a trembling hand Beermann takes up the visiting
card and reads]. Professor Wasner. [He sighs audibly and then says
with forced vigor.] Show the gentleman up. [Betty exit.]
BEERMANN. And this has been my state of mind for the past six
hours.
HAUSER [offering him his hand]. Now be brave, my dear friend, and
even if they should come to you, just deny it outright. You'll
know how to lie. A man of such rare abilities. ... Good night.
[Goes out on the left. In the doorway, he almost collides with
Professor Wasner. They greet each other.]
WASNER [wears a cape the left corner thrown picturesquely over his
right shoulder, holds a large slouch hat in his hand. His hair is
disheveled. His flaxen beard falls on his chest]. I am here in
regard to the most remarkable matter a man ever came to consult
another about.
BEERMANN [very nervous]. Must it be today, Herr Professor?
WASNER. The situation permits of no delay.
BEERMANN. But it is getting so late.
WASNER. I admit that this is hardly the proper time to make
visits. Nevertheless, I entreat you to hear me. [Beermann seats
himself at the desk, takes out a large handkerchief and presses it
against his forehead. Wasner remains standing and continues.] For
many years, as you well know, I undertook the task of collecting
all publications which have been undermining public morals. I
daresay today, that my collection is most complete and that I have
unquestionably proven the harm of pornographic literature. What
corrupting influence this temptation has through suggestion and
imagination can today no longer be doubted, because--[an
impressive pause; Wasner lowers his voice]--I myself fell a victim
to it. [Beermann remains in his apathetic attitude. Pause.] I can
well understand that you lack words. I, too, became, on account of
it, much disgusted with my character. I asked myself if I still
have the right to participate in the moral salvation of our people
and I have decided affirmatively only after a thorough
examination. [Pause.]
BEERMANN [absentmindedly]. Yes ... yes ... Herr Professor.
WASNER. You are entitled to know everything. Only spare me the
details. Briefly stated, one day I could not view my collection as
objectively as usual and thru a friend I was induced to make a
most damnable visit. I assure you that I simply loathe that
fellow.
BEERMANN. But just why are you telling me all this?
WASNER. Because together we have fought against immorality
shoulder to shoulder. I ask you if you still deem me worthy to
strive for our common ideal.
BEERMANN. For my part, go as far as you like, I won't stop you.
WASNER. Then you will not deny me your assistance?
BEERMANN. Suppose we discuss all this tomorrow, Herr Professor?
WASNER. Tomorrow will be too late. [Beermann falls back into his
chair in an attitude of apathy.] After my false step I became
convinced that it is my duty to protect others from this
temptation. My feeling of duty became stronger until finally I
wrote a letter to be exact--an anonymous letter--to the police,
wherein I demanded emphatically that they put an end to the
misconduct of this person.
BEERMANN [now attentive.] Really that was not nice.
WASNER. I wanted to assure myself that within I still had the
right to belong to the Society for the Suppression of Vice.
BEERMANN. I consider that rather mean. You should always be
grateful.
WASNER. This very feeling would have made me feel still more
guilty. [Beermann shrugs his shoulders nervously.] But now I come
to the reason for my being here. My information had results ...
This creature was arrested and today after dinner my false friend
comes to tell me that he had not been careful, had mentioned to
her my name, and I am certainly indexed in the book she kept. This
book was found in her place by the police.
BEERMANN [jumping up]. What's her name?
WASNER. Hauteville.
BEERMANN. So, it is you to whom we are indebted for this scandal.
[Angrily.] Do you fully realize what you have accomplished? How
many respectable fathers of families you have brought to the very
verge of despair?
WASNER. I know it.
BEERMANN. You don't.
WASNER. I came here for that very reason.
BEERMANN [not understanding him]. What?
WASNER. I came here to request you on behalf of the others to call
tonight, a meeting of the Executive Committee. The Society must do
everything in its power to keep this case out of court.
BEERMANN. Why the devil did you write that anonymous letter?
WASNER. Listen to me, I beg of you. Someone is involved in this
who is very dear to you. As soon as I received the information, I
hastened to Police Headquarters immediately and wanted to
intervene there as the representative of the Society for the
Suppression of Vice. But when I mentioned that name I was very
formally thrown out. On the steps, whom do you think I met but our
mutual friend, Kommerzienrat Bolland! He too had been in the
Commissioner's office and had the same bad luck. I told him my
troubles and he admitted to me that he also had been lured into
the den of this Siren.
BEERMANN. Kommerzienrat!
WASNER. Unfortunately. But that is something I can't at all
account for. He hardly could have been led into temptation through
a collection of documentary exhibits.
BEERMANN. And what do you want of me now?
WASNER. Our friend sends me to you. He would have come himself but
the shock threw him into a sickbed. He entreats you urgently to
call a meeting of the Executive Committee, immediately. We have
very influential people in our midst who must bring pressure to
bear on the Department of the Interior in order to hush up this
affair.
BEERMANN. If only you had not written that anonymous letter.
WASNER. I felt a moral duty to do it.
BEERMANN. And now it is our moral duty to patch up this matter.
[Betty enters on the left.]
BETTY [hands Beermann a calling card]. The gentleman says it is
very urgent.
BEERMANN [reads]. "Assessor Stroebel." [Frightened; to Betty.]
Tell him I am out of town. [Betty about to leave.] No, tell him I
am sick--or, Betty, show the gentleman up. [Betty goes out.]
WASNER. At what time shall the Executive Committee meet?
BEERMANN [excited]. Oh, leave me alone with your Executive
Committee.
WASNER. You must not desert us in our hour of peril. A leader's
fate is bound up with his followers according to German tradition.
BEERMANN [as before]. It is all your fault anyway.
WASNER. Shall I then tell our sick friend that we cannot count on
your support?
BEERMANN. If I am so situated that I can, I will be over to see
him in an hour. I can't promise you more now. [Assessor Stroebel
enters on left and remains standing in the doorway.]
STROEBEL [very seriously.] Herr Beermann, I must speak to you
privately.
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