Scene Second
A graveyard in the pouring rain——Pastor Kahlbauch stands beside an open grave with a raised umbrella in his hand. To his right are Renter Stiefel, his friend Ziegenmelker and Uncle Probst. To the left Rector Sonnenstich with Professor Knochenbruch, The grammar school students complete the circle. Martha and Ilse stand somewhat apart upon a fallen monument.
Pastor Kahlbauch.
For, he who rejects the grace with which the Everlasting Father has blessed those born in sin, he shall die a spiritual death!——He, however, who in willful carnal abnegation of God’s proper honor, lives for and serves evil, shall die the death of the body!——Who, however, wickedly throws away from him the cross which the All Merciful has laid upon him for his sins, verily, verily, I say unto you, he shall die the everlasting death! (He throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)——Let us, however, praise the All Gracious Lord and thank Him for His inscrutable grace in order that we may travel the thorny path more and more surely. For as truly as this one died a triple death, as truly will the Lord God conduct the righteous unto happiness and everlasting life.
Renter Stiefel.
(His voice stopped with tears, throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
The boy was nothing to me!——The boy was nothing to me!——The boy was a burden from his birth!
Rector Sonnenstich.
(Throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
Suicide being the greatest conceivable fault against the moral order of the world, is the greatest evidence of the moral order of the world. The suicide himself spares the world the need of pronouncing judgment of condemnation against himself, and confirms the existence of the moral order of the world.
Professor Knochenbruch.
(Throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
Wasted—soiled—debauched—tattered and squandered!
Uncle Probst.
(Throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
I would not have believed my own mother had she told me that a child could act so basely towards its own parents.
Friend Ziegenmelker.
(Throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
To treat a father so, who for twenty years, from late to early, had no other thought than the welfare of his child!
Pastor Kahlbauch.
(Shaking Renter Stiefel’s hand.)
We know that those who love God serve all things best (1 Corinthians 12:15).——Think of the bereaved mother and strive to console her for her loss by doubled love.
Rector Sonnenstich.
(Shaking Renter Stiefel’s hand.)
Indeed, we could not possibly have promoted him.
Professor Knochenbruch.
(Shaking Renter Stiefel’s hand.)
And if we had promoted him, next spring he would have certainly failed to pass.
Uncle Probst.
(Shaking Renter Stiefel’s hand.)
It is your duty now to think of yourself first of all. You are the father of a family——
Friend Ziegenmelker.
(Shaking Renter Stiefel’s hand.)
Trust yourself to my guidance!——This devilish weather shakes one’s guts!——The man who doesn’t prevent it with a grog will ruin his heart valves.
Renter Stiefel.
(Blowing his nose.)
The boy was nothing to me——the boy was nothing to me!
(Renter Stiefel leaves, accompanied by Pastor Kahlbauch, Rector Sonnenstich, Professor Knockenbruch, Uncle Probst and Friend Ziegenmelker.——The rain ceases.)
Hans Rilow.
(Throws a shovelful of earth into the grave.)
Rest in peace, you honest fellow!——Greet my eternal brides for me, those sacrificed remembrances, and commend me respectfully to the grace of God——you poor clown——They will put a scarecrow on top of your grave because of your angelic simplicity.
George.
Did they find the pistol?
Robert.
There’s no use looking for the pistol!
Ernest.
Did you see him, Robert?
Robert.
It’s a damned infernal swindle!——Who did see him?——Who did?
Otto.
He was hidden!——They threw a covering over him.
George.
Was his tongue hanging out?
Robert.
His eyes——That’s why they threw the cloth over him.
Otto.
Frightful!
Hans Rilow.
Do you know for certain that he hanged himself?
Ernest.
They say he has no head left.
Otto.
Incredible!——Nonsense!
Robert.
I have the clue in my hands. I have never seen a man who hanged himself that they haven’t thrown a cloth over.
George.
He couldn’t have taken his leave in a vulgarer way!
Hans Rilow.
The devil! Hanging is pretty enough!
Otto.
He owes me five marks. We had a bet. He swore he would keep his place.
Hans Rilow.
You are to blame for his lying there. You called him a boaster.
Otto.
Nonsense! I, too, must grind away all night. If he had learned the history of Greek literature he would not have had to hang himself!
Ernest.
Have you your composition, Otto?
Otto.
First comes the introduction.
Ernest.
I don’t know at all what to write.
George.
Weren’t you there when Affenschmalz gave us the theme?
Hans Rilow.
I’ll fake up something out of Democritus.
Ernst.
I will see if there is anything left to be found in Meyer’s Little Encyclopedia.
Otto.
Have you your Virgil for to-morrow?——
(The schoolboys leave——Martha and Ilse approach the grave.)
Ilse.
Quick, quick!——Here are the grave-diggers coming!
Martha.
Hadn’t we better wait, Ilse?
Ilse.
What for?——We’ll bring fresh ones. Always fresh ones. There are enough growing.
Martha.
You’re right, Ilse!——(She throws a wreath of ivy into the grave, Ilse drops her apron and allows a shower of fresh anemones to rain down on the coffin.)
Martha.
I’ll dig up our roses. I’ll be beaten for it!——They will be of some use here.
Ilse.
I’ll water them as often as I pass here. I’ll fetch violets from the brook and bring some iris from our house.
Martha.
It will be beautiful!——beautiful!
Ilse.
I was just across the brook on that side when I heard the shot.
Martha.
Poor dear!
Ilse.
And I know the reason, too, Martha.
Martha.
Did he tell you anything?
Ilse.
Parallelepipedon! But don’t tell anybody.
Martha.
My hand on it.
Ilse.
Here is the pistol.
Martha.
That’s the reason they didn’t find it!
Ilse.
I took it right out of his hand when I came along in the morning.
Martha.
Give it to me, Ilse!——Please give it to me!
Ilse.
No, I’m going to keep it for a souvenir.
Martha.
Is it true, Ilse, that he lay there without a head?
Ilse.
He must have loaded it with water!——The mulleins were spattered all over with blood. His brains were scattered about the pasture.