Gustav. [Vigorously.] That’s not quite accurate. The thing took quite another course. That I should have wished in my heart of hearts that things should go badly with you is only natural. Yet I was more or less convinced that it would not be necessary for me to cut in actively; besides, I had far too much other business to have time for intrigues. But just now, when I was loafing about a bit, and happened to run across you on the steamer with your circle of young men, I thought that the time had come to get to slightly closer quarters with you two. I came here and that lamb of yours threw himself immediately into the wolf’s arms. I aroused his sympathy by methods of reflex suggestion, into details of which, as a matter of good form, I’d rather not go. At first I experienced a certain pity for him, because he was in the very condition in which I had once found myself. Then, as luck would have it, he began unwittingly to probe about in my old wound—you know what I mean—the book—and the ass—then I was overwhelmed by a desire to pluck him to pieces and to mess up the fragments in such a tangle that they could never be put together again. Thanks to the conscientious way in which you had cleared the ground, I succeeded only too easily, and then I had to deal with you. You were the spring in the works that had to be taken to pieces. And, that done, the game was to listen for the smash-up! When I came into this room I had no idea what I was to say. I had a lot of plans in my head, like a chess player, but the character of the opening depended on the moves you made, one move led to another, chance was kind to me. I soon had you on toast—and now you’re in a nice mess.
Thekla. Nonsense.
Gustav. Oh yes, what you’d have prayed your stars to avoid has happened: society, in the persons of two lady visitors—I didn’t commandeer their appearance because intrigue is not in my line—society, I say, has seen your pathetic reconciliation with your first husband, and the penitent way in which you crawled back into his faithful arms. Isn’t that enough?
Thekla [She goes over to him toward.the right.] Tell me—you who make such a point of being so logical and so intellectual—how does it come about that you, who make such a point of your maxim that everything which happens happens as a matter of necessity, and that all our actions are determined
Gustav. [Corrects her.] Determined up to a certain extent.
Thekla. It comes to the same thing.
Gustav. No.
Thekla. How does it come about that you, who are bound to regard me as an innocent person, inasmuch as nature and circumstances have driven me to act as I did, could regard yourself as justified in revenging yourself on me?
Gustav. Well, the same principle applies, you see—that is to say, the principle that my temperament and circumstances drove me to revenge myself. Isn’t it a case of six of one and half-a-dozen of the other? But do you know why you’ve got the worst of it in this struggle? [Thekla looks contemptuous.] Why you and that husband of yours managed to get downed? I’ll tell you. Because I was stronger than you, and smarter. It was you, my dear, who was a donkey—and he as well! So you see, that one isn’t necessarily bound to be quite an ass even though one doesn’t write any novels or paint any pictures. Just remember that! [He turns away from her to the left.]
Thekla. Haven’t you got a grain of feeling left?
Gustav. Not a grain—that’s why, don’t you know, I’m
so good at thinking, as you are perhaps able to see by the slight proofs which I’ve given you, and can play the practical man equally well, and I’ve just given you something of a sample of what I can do in that line. [He strides round the table and sofa on the left and turns again to her.]
Thekla. And all this simply because I wounded your vanity?
Gustav. [On her left.] Not that only, but you’ll be jolly careful in the future of wounding other people’s vanity—it’s the most sensitive part of a man.
Thekla. What a vindictive wretch! Ugh!
Gustav. What a promiscuous wretch. Ugh!
Thekla. Do you mean that’s my temperament?
Gustav. Do you mean that’s my temperament?
Thekla. [Goes over toward him to the left.] You wouldn’t like to forgive me?
Gustav. Certainly, I have forgiven you.
Thekla. You?
Gustav. Quite. Have I ever raised my hand against you two in all these years? No. But when I happened to be here I favored you two with scarce a look and the cleavage between you is already there. Did I ever reproach you, moralize, lecture? No. I joked a little with your husband and the accumulated dynamite in him just happened to go off, but I, who am defending myself like this, am the one who’s really entitled to stand here and complain. Thekla, have you nothing to reproach yourself with?
Thekla. Not the least bit—the Christians say it’s Providence that guides our actions, others call it Fate. Aren’t we quite guiltless?
Gustav. No doubt we are to a certain extent. But an infinitesimal something remains, and that contains the guilt, all the same, and the creditors turn up sooner or later! Men and women may be guiltless, but they have to render an account. Guiltless before Him in whom neither of us believes any more, responsible to themselves and to their fellow-men.
Thekla. You’ve come, then, to warn me?
Gustav. I’ve come to demand back what you stole from me, not what you had as a present. You stole my honor, and I could only win back mine by taking yours—wasn’t I right?
Thekla. [After a pause, going over to him on the right] Honor! Hm! And are you satisfied now?
Gustav. [After a pause.] I am satisfied now. [He presses the bell by the door for the WAITER.]
Thekla. [After another pause.] And now you’re going to your bride, Gustav?
Gustav. I have none—and shall never have one. I am not going home because I have no home, and shall never have one. [WAITER comes in on the left.]
SCENE VI
[Previous characters—WAITER standing back.] Gustav. Bring me the bill—I’m leaving by the twelve o’clock boat. [WAITER bows and exits left.]
SCENE VII
Thekla. Without a reconciliation?
Gustav. [On her left.] Reconciliation? You play about with so many words that they’ve quite lost their meaning. We reconcile ourselves? Perhaps we are to live in a trinity, are we? The way for you to effect a reconciliation is to put matters straight. You can’t do that alone. You have not only taken something, but you have destroyed what you took, and you can never put it back. Would you be satisfied if I were to say to you: “Forgive me because you mangled my heart with your claws; forgive me for the dishonor you brought upon me; forgive me for being seven years on end the laughing-stock of my pupils; forgive me for freeing you from the control of your parents; for releasing you from the tyranny of ignorance and superstition; for making you mistress over my house; for giving you a position and friends, I, the man who made you into a woman out of the child you were? Forgive me like I forgive you?” Anyway, I now regard my account with you as squared. You go and settle up your accounts with the other man.
Thekla. Where is he? What have you done with him? I’ve just got a suspicion—a—something dreadful!