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Title: Reunion In Vienna. A Play in Three Acts.
Author: Sherwood, Robert Emmet (1896-1955)
Date of first publication: 1932
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1932
   (first edition)
Date first posted: 26 March 2010
Date last updated: 26 March 2010
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #509

This ebook was produced by:
Iona Vaughan, Barbara Watson, Mark Akrigg
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdpcanada.net




                           REUNION IN VIENNA




                        BY ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD

                   *       *       *       *       *

                           REUNION IN VIENNA
                           THIS IS NEW YORK
                           THE VIRTUOUS KNIGHT
                           WATERLOO BRIDGE
                           THE QUEEN'S HUSBAND
                           THE ROAD TO ROME

                  *       *       *       *       *

                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS




                           REUNION IN VIENNA

                         A PLAY IN THREE ACTS

                                  BY
                         ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD


            "Wonder," says he, "is the basis of Worship:
            the reign of wonder is perennial, indestructible
            in Man; only at certain stages (as the present),
            it is, for some short season, a reign _in partibus
            infidelium_." That progress of Science, which
            is to destroy Wonder, and in its stead substitute
            Mensuration and Numeration, finds small favor with
            Teufelsdrckh, much as he otherwise venerates these
            two latter processes.
                                         --Sartor Resartus.




                               NEW YORK
                        CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
                                 1932




                          Copyright, 1932, by
                         ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD

                  *       *       *       *       *

       DRAMATIC VERSION COPYRIGHT, 1931, BY ROBERT EMMET SHERWOOD

                  *       *       *       *       *

               Printed in the United States of America

              _All rights reserved. No part of this book
                may be reproduced in any form without
                    the permission of the Author._

                  *       *       *       *       *

       _All performing rights to this play are strictly reserved.
      Requests for information of any kind concerning these rights
        should be addressed to Harold Freedman, care of Brandt &
                 Brandt, 101 Park Ave., New York City._





                                 TO
                               MY WIFE




PREFACE


This play is another demonstration of the escape mechanism in operation.

There is no form of mechanism more popular or in more general use in
this obstreperously technological period--which is a sufficient
indication of the spirit of moral defeatism that now prevails. It is a
spirit, or want of spirit, that can truthfully be said to be new in the
world--for the reason that in no previous historic emergency has the
common man enjoyed the dubious advantages of consciousness. However
unwilling, he is now able to realize that his generation has the
ill-luck to occupy the limbo-like interlude between one age and another.
Looking about him, he sees a shell-torn No Man's Land, filled with
barbed-wire entanglements and stench and uncertainty. If it is not
actual chaos, it is a convincing counterfeit thereof. Before him is
black doubt, punctured by brief flashes of ominous light, whose
revelations are not comforting. Behind him is nothing but the ghastly
wreckage of burned bridges.

In his desperation, which he assures himself is essentially comic, he
casts about for weapons of defense. The old minds offer him
Superstition, but it is a stringless bow, impotent in its obsolescence.
The new minds offer him Rationalism, but it is a boomerang. He must
devise pitiful defenses of his own, like a soldier who spreads a sheet
of wrapping paper over his bivouac to keep out the airplane bombs. In
Europe, this manifests itself in the heroic but anachronistic attempt to
recreate the illusions of nationalism: people drugging themselves with
the comforting hope that to-morrow will be a repetition of yesterday,
that the Csars and the Tudors will return.

In America, which has had no Csars or Tudors, nor even any
Hohenzollerns or Habsburgs, the favorite weapon of defense against
unlovely reality is a kind of half-hearted cynicism that is increasingly
tremulous, increasingly shrill.

Observe it in operation:

"Fear not, for God will provide."

"Oh, yeah?"

"The economic structure is fundamentally sound."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Two plus two equals four."

"Oh, yeah?"

As an alternative to cynicism is the sentimentalism which derives
exquisite anguish from an acknowledgment of futility. Consider the
"Hollow Men" in T. S. Eliot's terrible verses: "shape without form,
shade without colour, paralyzed force, gesture without motion." Eliot is
among the few authorized spokesmen of his time.

      "_This is the way the world ends
      Not with a bang but a whimper._"

"Oh, yeah?"

Here is another spokesman, a tabloid newspaper, _The New York Daily
News_, which gives true statement of a present problem:

"Which is better--to live in fear of kidnapers, stick-ups and
blackmailers whom the law can't touch, or to trade our remaining
liberties of speech and action for the security which a strong ruler
(Mussolini or Stalin) can guarantee? We feel sure we can answer that
question for any American mother, at least. She would be glad to trade
her remaining American liberties for the knowledge that she could put
her baby in its crib to-night and find it there safe to-morrow morning."

Democracy--liberty, equality, fraternity, and the pursuit of happiness!
Peace and prosperity! Emancipation by enlightenment! All the
distillations of man's maturing intelligence have gone sour.

The worst of it is that man had been so full of hope. He had complete
confidence in the age of reason, the age of the neutralization of
nature, for it was his own idea. It differed from all previous ages in
this great respect: it was not caused by the movements of glaciers, the
upheaval or submersion of continents, the imposition of prolonged
droughts: it was the product of man's restless thought and tireless
industry, planned and developed by him not in collaboration with nature
but in implacable opposition to it. The reasonings of such as Roger
Bacon, Copernicus, Galileo and Newton started the assault upon
ignorance, and it has been carried on by countless thinkers and talkers
from Voltaire and Rousseau to Shaw and Wells.

This is the career of the age of reason:

The eighteenth century knew the excitements of conception, culminating
in the supreme orgasm of the French Revolution.

The nineteenth century was the period of gestation, marred by occasional
symptoms of nausea and hysteria and a few dark forebodings, but
generally orderly and complacent.

For the twentieth century have remained the excruciating labor pains and
the discovery that the child is a monster; and as modern man looks upon
it, and recalls the assurances of the omniscient obstetricians, he is
sore distressed. He wishes that with his eyes he could see not, that
with his ears he could not hear. But his senses are remarkably acute.

After Darwin, it all seemed so easy. Huxley preached the gospel, Pasteur
peered through his microscope and detected the destroyers, Edison and
Freud began to see the light. Science conferred its blessings at a
bewilderingly extravagant rate. It was then that Victor Hugo expressed
man's ascendant optimism:

"Give time for the realization of the acme of social salvation,--
gratuitous and compulsory education. How long will it take? A quarter
of a century; and then imagine the incalculable sum of intellectual
development. . . . Look! raise your eyes! the supreme epic is
accomplished. The legions of light drive backward the hordes of flame."

Twenty-five years! But exactly twice that number of years after Hugo's
prophecy the legions of light converged upon Flanders, and the process
of dissolution--political, economic and ethical--had begun. Twelve
million soldiers died for democracy, but now _The Daily News_ announces
that mothers would rather have their babies safe. But it is doubtful
that the mothers or their sons will derive much joy from consideration
of the proffered panaceas. Man is a sick animal, and the chief symptom
of his malady is embittered distrust of all the physicians who would
attempt to heal him.

The discredited vicars of God believe they can be helpful. They say, "Go
back to the faith of your fathers!"

They might as well say, "Crawl back into the wombs of your mothers."

The discredited ideologs of the laboratory believe that they can be
helpful. They say, "Be aware! Be confident! Go forward with firm tread
through the entanglements (which are purely psychological), inspired by
the assurances of our continued research. If you feel that you suffer
from a plethora of science, then the only cure for it is more science."
They even go so far as to suggest that the physicists might mark time
for a while, to allow the biologists, psychologists and sociologists to
catch up. The human organism must be reconstructed so that it will be as
foolproof as the adding machine.

Man is, for the moment, scornful of the formul of the scientists, for
he believes that it was they who got him into this mess. To hell with
them, and their infallible laws, their experiments noble in motive and
disastrous in result, their antiseptic Utopia, their vitamines and their
lethal gases, their cosmic rays and their neuroses, all tidily encased
in cellophane. To hell with them, says man, but with no relish, for he
has been deprived even of faith in the potency of damnation.

In _The Modern Temper_, Joseph Wood Krutch has spoken as eloquently for
his generation as Hugo did for his. He has written: "We went to science
in search of light, not merely upon the nature of matter, but upon the
nature of man as well, and though that which we have received may be
light of a sort, it is not adapted to our eyes and is not anything by
which we can see."

Or perhaps it is a light which enables us to see all too clearly the
destination of civilization as directed by science. Perhaps at the end
of the long, straight road we see the ultimate ant-hill, the triumph of
collectivism, with the law of averages strictly, equably enforced. It
may well mean fulfillment of the dreams of all the philosophers: the
Perfect State.

It is a prospect of unrelieved dreariness. "I could not imagine writing
a paragraph about a reformed world," Joseph Hergesheimer has confessed,
and he might have added that before man could even live in such a world,
he would have to be deprived of the very power to imagine, a sort of
intellectual castration resulting in loss of the one attribute which has
made survival worth all the required effort and pain.

It is this prospect which provokes the wailing that sounds throughout
all the literature of this period, and it should provide great amusement
for our descendants--provided they _are_ our descendants, rather than
laboratory products, and also provided our literature lives that long,
which is doubtful. It would seem that the only subjects now available
for man's contemplation are his disillusionment with the exposed past
and his disinclination to accept the stultifying circumstances of the
revealed future. The one substitute for the vanished solace of religion,
for the frustrated idealism of democracy, and for the demolished
security of capitalism, is abject submission of body and mind to the
dictatorship of pure theory. There can be no possibility of choice in
the matter. Science permits no compromise: a formula is either correct
or it is incorrect, and only one scientific formula for the organization
of life on earth has as yet been conceived, and it is Marxism. The
attempt to mitigate this formula, to soften its impact, to introduce
into it loop-holes for the admission of some of the more desirable of
the old ideas (such as poetry, the luxury of leisure, etc.) is as absurd
as the pathetic attempts of the theologians to adapt their dogmas to the
exigencies of modernism. When man accepts the principles of
collectivism, he accepts a clearly stated, clearly defined trend in
evolution, the theoretic outcome of which is inescapable. He is
enlisting in the great army of uniformity, renouncing forever his right
to be out of step as he marches with all the others into that ideal
state in which there is no flaw in the gigantic rhythm of technology, no
stalk of wheat too few or too many, no destructive passion, no waste, no
fear, no provocation to revolt--the ultimate ant-hill. Man is afraid of
communism not because he thinks it will be a failure but because he
suspects it will be too complete a success.

So man is giving loud expression to his reluctance to confront the
seemingly inevitable. He is desperately cherishing the only remaining
manifestation of the individualism which first distinguished him in the
animal kingdom: it is the anarchistic impulse, rigorously inhibited but
still alive--the impulse to be drunk and disorderly, to smash laws and
ikons, to draw a mustache and beard on the Mona Lisa, to be a hurler of
bombs and monkey wrenches--the impulse to be an artist and a damned
fool. It was this impulse which animated Galileo in the face of Romanism
and Lenin in the face of Tsarism, but the disciples of both of them are
determined to exterminate it and can undoubtedly do so, with the aid of
the disciples of Freud. There is no reason why the successful
neutralization of nature cannot be extended to include human nature.

Man has been clinging to the hope that has been his since he was
delivered from feudalism--hope that he may live a life which is, in the
words of Whitman, "copious, vehement, spiritual, bold." He is seeing
that hope destroyed by instruments of his own devising, and the
reverberations of his protest are shaking his earth.

Perhaps this protest is only the last gasp of primitivism. Perhaps man
feels that the traditions of his race demand of him a show of spirit
before he submerges himself in the mass and that, when the little show
is over, he will be glad enough to fall meekly into line.

And then again--perhaps he knows that he is doomed anyway, that he is
riding to oblivion in a vehicle of antiquated design. For there is still
space, and the infinite mysteries thereof. The most advanced of all the
scientists are now considering it, gravely, and they are not optimistic
as to the results of their ruminations. One of them, Sir James Jeans,
has said:

"Science knows of no change except the change of growing older, and of
no progress except progress to the grave. So far as our present
knowledge goes, we are compelled to believe that the whole material
universe is an example, on the grand scale, of this. It appears to be
passing away like a tale that is told, dissolving into nothingness like
a vision. The human race, whose intelligence dates back only a single
tick of the astronomical clock, could hardly hope to understand so soon
what it all means."

So there is hope, after all. Man may not have time to complete the
process of his own undoing before the unknown forces have combined to
burst the bubble of his universe. . . .

All of which is used as preface to _Reunion in Vienna_ because it
provides confession of the apprehensions from which, with the help of
God and a few Lunts, I have been attempting in this play to escape. It
is relieving, if not morally profitable, for an American writer to
contemplate people who can recreate the semblance of gaiety in the face
of lamentably inappropriate circumstances.
                                                         R. E. S.





REUNION IN VIENNA


Presented by the Theatre Guild at the Martin Beck Theatre, New York
City, November 16, 1932, with the following cast:

KATHIE                   Mary Gildea
ERNEST                   Stanley Wood
ELENA                    Lynn Fontanne
DR. ANTON KRUG           Minor Watson
ILSE                     Phyllis Connard
EMIL                     Lloyd Nolan
OLD KRUG                 Henry Travers
FRAU LUCHER              Helen Westley
COUNTESS VON STAINZ      Virginia Chauvenet
COUNT VON STAINZ         Edward Fielding
POFFY                    Edouardo Ciannelli
BREDZI                   Bela Loblov
JANSEI                   Morris Nussbaum
STRUP                    Otis Sheridan
TORLINI                  Bjorn Koefoed
POLICEMAN                Murray Stevens
CHEF                     Leonard Loan
RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN       Alfred Lunt
GISELLA                  Cynthia Townsend
GENERAL HOETZLER         Frank Kingdon
TALISZ                   Owen Meech
SOPHIA                   Justina Wayne
KOEPPKE                  William R. Randall
VALET                    Joseph Allenton
BELLBOY                  Noel Taylor
BUS-BOYS               { Ben Kranz
                       { Hendrik Booraem
WAITERS                { Charles E. Douglass
                       { Samuel Rosen

       *       *       *       *       *

Directed by Worthington Miner
Settings by Aline Bernstein




REUNION IN VIENNA



CAST


KATHIE
ERNEST
ELENA
DOCTOR ANTON KRUG
OLD KRUG
ILSE
EMIL
FRAU LUCHER
COUNT VON STAINZ
COUNTESS VON STAINZ
POFFY
A PORTER
ANOTHER PORTER
STRUP
BREDZI
TWO WAITERS
TWO BUS-BOYS
A BELL-BOY
TORLINI
A POLICEMAN
CHEF
RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN
GISELLA VON KRETT
GENERAL HOETZLER
SOPHIA
KOEPPKE
TALISZ
A VALET
JANSEI




SCENES


ACT I.--_The drawing-room in the house of Doctor
Anton Krug, in Vienna. Late afternoon._

ACT II.--_The ante-room of the Imperial Suite, Hotel
Lucher, in Vienna. Early evening._

ACT III.--_Same as Act I. Late evening._

(The curtain is lowered during Act III to indicate the passage of
several hours.)

       *       *       *       *       *

_Time:_ August 18th, 1930.





REUNION IN VIENNA




ACT I


_The scene is the living room in the home of_ PROFESSOR DOCTOR ANTON
KRUG _in Vienna. It is late in the afternoon of August 18th, 1930, a
date which marks the one hundredth anniversary of the birth of the late
Emperor Franz Joseph I._

_The room is ultra-modernistic in the style of its decorations and
furnishings, but there is conveyed through the colors of the curtains
and upholstery a suggestion of old-fashioned warmth._

_At the right, down-stage, is a double door, leading to a hall and the
staircase. In the up-stage right angle of the scene is a long window,
looking out upon a sea of horse-chestnut trees. At the back of the room,
in the centre, a few steps lead up to a little landing; on this open the
door leading to_ FRAU KRUG'S _boudoir and, to the left of it, the
entrance to the hall which leads to the bedrooms_.

_Up-stage left is the door leading to_ DR. KRUG'S _offices, and,
down-stage left, a fire-place_.

_Before the fire-place is a seat. Slightly to the left of stage-centre
is a large couch, the back of which forms a bookcase. Toward the right
is a thickly upholstered easy-chair, and two or three chairs that are
not so easy. There is a window seat, and between it and the landing at
the back is an American radio cabinet._

_As the curtain rises, the stage is empty, but from the radio come the
sounds of a jazz tune._

_After a moment, the door at the right opens and_ KATHIE _comes in. She
is a stout, competent, middle-aged servant. Behind her comes_ ERNEST, _a
venerable, jovial laundryman, bearing a brimming hamper of clean linen_.

        KATHIE

Put it down there. (_She indicates the couch, then goes up to the
radio._)

        ERNEST

Yes, my dear. (_He puts the laundry basket by the sofa._)

        KATHIE (_muttering as she turns off the radio_)

He always goes out and leaves it on when he knows it annoys the Herr
Doctor. (_She goes up the steps and knocks on the door of_ FRAU KRUG'S
_room_.) Frau Krug.

        ELENA (_from offstage_)

Yes?

        KATHIE

The laundry's here. (_She comes down and addresses ERNEST in a
peremptory tone._) She wants to count it herself--and heaven help you
if there's anything missing.

        ERNEST

Not so much as a doily, upon my word.

(ELENA _comes out of her room, and walks quickly down to the couch. She
is thirty-two years old, slim, serene, self-possessed and almost
imperceptibly malicious. Unquestionably above reproach as the envied
wife of the distinguished_ DR. KRUG, ELENA _remains a lively subject for
speculative discussion. There is no doubt that she is a lady of
fashion--was born so, indeed--though she is now wearing a severely
simple apron smock and appearing as a model of brisk, house-wifely
competence. She smiles amiably at_ ERNEST.)

        ELENA

Good afternoon, Ernest.

        ERNEST (_bowing_)

Frau Krug! Good afternoon. Warming up a bit, isn't it?

        ELENA

Yes--it's lovely. . . . All right, Kathie. I have the list.

(KATHIE _starts taking the folded pairs of drawers from the basket, pair
by pair, and putting them on the couch_. ELENA _holds a laundry book and
pencil with which she confirms the numbers of items announced by_
KATHIE.)

        KATHIE

Seven pairs of drawers.

        ELENA

Seven. That's right. . . . Here--let me see how they've been done.

(KATHIE _hands her a pair, which_ ELENA _unfolds and inspects_.)

        ERNEST

Beautifully laundered, Frau Krug, with creamy softness to caress your
skin.

        ELENA

Not my skin--my husband's.

        ERNEST (_bowing_)

Ten thousand pardons.

        ELENA

How about the shirts?

        KATHIE (_piling them up_)

One--two--three--four--five--six--seven.

(DR. ANTON KRUG _has come in from the left. He is a tall, powerful,
handsome man of forty-five, bespectacled, correctly dressed in an
essentially Teutonic morning coat with striped trousers. His hands are
those of a peasant rather than of a deft surgeon, and he is conscious of
them. He speaks quietly, but in his deep voice is the resonance of
assurance. He knows whereof he speaks_.)

        ANTON

Elena . . . What are you doing? (_He comes close to_ ELENA.)

        ELENA

Now don't bother me, Anton. How many undershirts?

        KATHIE

Two--four--six--seven.

        ELENA

Seven. That's right. (_To_ ANTON) I'm counting the laundry.

(KATHIE _begins to count out socks_.)

        KATHIE

One pair, two--three--four--(_She goes on._)

        ANTON (_smiling_)

Forgive me, Elena--but will this great task keep you occupied for very
long?

        ELENA

No. Why?

        ANTON

There are a couple of students of mine out there.

        KATHIE (_mumbling_)

Eleven pairs socks.

        ANTON

Would you mind talking to them while they're waiting? I want them to
have a good look at you.

        ELENA

No, dear, by all means, send them in. Did you say eleven?

        KATHIE

Yes, ma'am. Five woollen, six silk.

        ELENA

That's right. I'd better not let them see me with all this wash.

        ANTON (_smiling_)

No, it might disillusion them. They imagine you as glamorous, regal.

        ELENA (_interested_)

Ah! _Do_ they?

        ANTON

Where they got such ideas, I don't know.

        ELENA

Perhaps they're very young?

(KATHIE _is putting the laundry back into the basket_.)

        ANTON

They are--young, and painfully earnest. They're badly in need of a few
lessons in the cultivation of grace.

        ELENA (_rising_)

This apron isn't very glamorous, either.

(_Old_ KRUG _ambles in from the right, carrying the evening paper. He
is_ ANTON's _father, a gentle old man, an ex-cobbler, who doesn't
entirely like the way things have been going since Austria was made safe
for democracy_.)

        ANTON

No, I'm reasonably sure you can do better than that.

        KRUG

Better than what?

        ELENA

If you can keep them waiting a little while I _shall_ do better. (_She
goes up to the steps at the back._)

        ANTON

Thanks, Elena. I'll deposit them in here. (_He goes out at the left._)

        KRUG

Deposit who? What's happening?

        ELENA (_at the door to her room_)

Bring the laundry in here. (_She goes out, leaving the door open._)

        ERNEST

Gladly, Frau Krug. (_He lifts the basket._ KATHIE _picks up the folded
drawers and shirts from the couch and goes into the room_. ERNEST _is
following her, but old_ KRUG _intercepts him_.)

        KRUG

Oh, Ernest!

        ERNEST (_turning and bowing_)

Herr Krug!

        KRUG (_excitedly_)

Have you heard any more about to-night?

        ERNEST (_importantly_)

I have! I was just over at Lucher's Hotel, and they're in a great state
about it. They expect upwards of a hundred people!

        KRUG (_impressed_)

A hundred! The police aren't going to stop it, are they?

        ERNEST (_with assurance_)

Noooo! Old Frau Lucher has bribed the authorities.

(KATHIE _appears in the bedroom door_.)

        KATHIE (_from the landing_)

She told you to come in here!

        ERNEST

Coming! (_He winks at_ KRUG, _and goes out with his basket_. KRUG
_goes over to the radio, twists the dials, then turns it on. A speech in
Russian is coming through. He listens attentively._ ANTON _comes in
from the left, followed by the students,_ EMIL LOIBNER _and_ ILSE
HINRICH. EMIL _is dark, bespectacled, poorly, carelessly dressed_.
ILSE _might be blondly beautiful if she cared to be. She is eager and
ambitious, but a trifle bewildered_.)

        ANTON

Right in here, please.

        ILSE

I hope we're not disturbing Frau Krug.

        ANTON

No, no! She's eager to meet you.

        EMIL

She's very kind.

        ANTON (_to old_ KRUG)

Father! Turn that off!

        KRUG

But it's that trial in Moscow.

        ANTON

Yes, and you can't understand a word of it. Turn it off!

        KRUG (_with dejected resignation_)

Oh, very well. (_He does so._)

        ANTON

This is my father. (ILSE _and_ EMIL _bow and murmur:_ "_Herr Krug--How
do you do?_") Two of my students--Ilse Hinrich and Emil Loibner. (KRUG
_mumbles a churlish greeting and ambles up to the window seat whereon he
sits to read his paper_.) My wife will be here in a minute. I have one
more patient to see before we can begin our work. A dreadful woman! She
came all the way from--where is it?--Pennsylvania, to learn about the
more elementary facts of life. She's married too. (_He laughs._) What
sort of husbands do you suppose they have in Pennsylvania that their
wives must come all the way to Vienna to learn the facts? (EMIL _and_
ILSE _laugh obediently at the Professor's little joke_.) Now when my
wife comes in I want you both to be very charming--rather than
scientific. Do you understand that?

        EMIL

You don't need to tell us that, Herr Professor.

        ANTON

Of course not. You're already a good psychiatrist. And you too, Ilse.

        ILSE

Oh, I don't know anything yet.

        ANTON

You stick at it for two or three years and you'll know everything--as
Emil does. (_He slaps_ EMIL'S _shoulder and goes out at the left. Ill at
ease_, ILSE _sits down on the edge of the couch_. EMIL _takes up a
defensive position before the fire-place_.)

        ILSE

What shall we say to her?

        EMIL

Well, I imagine we should flatter her. That's the right thing to do.

        ILSE

I know--but about what?

        EMIL

You ought to know. You're a woman.

        KRUG (_unexpectedly_)

Tell her you admire this room.

        ILSE

Oh!

(_They are both startled, having forgotten_ KRUG.)

        KRUG

She likes to be praised about all this--decoration. (_With a none too
approving sweep of the hand._)

        EMIL

Is it--is the decoration her work?

        KRUG

Every bit of it. She stood over the carpenters and painters and told
them what to do.

        ILSE

It's tre_men_dously effective!

        KRUG

Maybe. (_He rises and crosses toward_ ILSE.) But as for me--it's--I
don't know--I don't _like_ it! It just isn't natural. . . . Do you know
what she said when she was having it done? She said: "We won't have one
thing in this house to look as if there ever was a past. We must believe
we know nothing of what went on in the world before 1920. We are
beginning new," she said. Crazy notions! (_He chuckles._) But all the
same, she's smart. She can tell you young people some things that are
good for you to know. And what's more, she _will_ tell you if you ask
her the right . . .

(ERNEST _comes out of_ ELENA'S _room, carrying his empty basket_.)

        ERNEST

Well, the laundry added up perfectly.

        KRUG                             }
                                         }
Good! I need a clean shirt.              }
                                         } (_Together_)
        ILSE (_in an undertone to_ EMIL) }
                                         }
I still don't know what to say} to her.  }

        EMIL

Sh!

        ERNEST

And if I hear any more about that certain affair I'll let you know.

        KRUG

Oh, please do, Ernest, because if there is a rumpus, they won't let the
papers print anything about it. Do you think there will be a rumpus?

        ERNEST (_knowingly_)

Unless I miss my guess, there'll be a good one. . . .

        KRUG

Oh, I hope so.

        ERNEST

Believe me, they're eager to have Frau Krug there.

(KATHIE _comes out of_ ELENA'S _room_.)

        KRUG

Oh, I can believe that.

        KATHIE

Come on, now--we're through with you. (_She crosses to the right._)

        ERNEST

Yes, my dear.

        ILSE (_to_ EMIL)

What was that about Frau Krug?

(EMIL _cautions her to silence_.)

        KRUG

Good afternoon, Ernest.

        ERNEST

Good afternoon, Herr Krug. (_He goes out at the right, followed by_
KATHIE.)

        KRUG

Herr Krug! (_He chuckles as he turns back to the students._) He and I
used to go to school together, and now he calls me "Herr" Krug. That's
because I'm the father of my son. As if I deserved the credit. (_He
comes close to_ ILSE.) Do you want to know something?

        ILSE

About Frau Krug?

        KRUG (_paying no attention to her question_)

I never saw what was in my boy. Neither did his mother. We wanted him to
follow my trade, shoe-making. But he had big ideas. He had to be a
surgeon _and_ a revolutionist. Even when he was wearing short pants he
was telling us that science was going to cure every one of everything.
He was the wildest talker.

        EMIL

Because he knew the truth.

        KRUG

Well--he'd have been better off if he'd kept his mouth closed. They
didn't like to be talked about the way he talked. They punished him. . . .

        ILSE

Who were they?

        EMIL

The Habsburgs!

        ILSE

Oh!

        KRUG

Yes--that's who it was. They were smart, too. Whenever things became too
hot for 'em here at home they'd start another war, and send all the
worst of the trouble makers into the front line. They did that with him.
They put him to work patching up all the soldiers they'd broken there in
Gorizia--patching 'em up so that they could send 'em out to be broken
again. But do you know what he said about it? He said it was murder they
were doing--that the enemy were our comrades. Comrades! The Italians!
And on top of all that, every soldier that was sent to him was marked
unfit for further military service. He told 'em all to go home. But
_they_ soon put a stop to that. They took away his commission from him,
and made him a laborer in their stone quarries; and that's why he could
never be a surgeon again. They crushed his hands with their stones!

        ILSE

How _hor_rible!

        EMIL (_fervently_)

That's one of the crimes that we must never forget!

        KRUG

Oh, it didn't upset him. He said, "If I can't use my hands to chop
people to pieces, I can still use _this_." (_He taps his head._) And he
did. And now they don't put him in prison for what he says. They _pay_
him! Why--they sent for my boy all the way from America, and he went
across the ocean to tell those Americans how to live. _They_ didn't
know. And when he came back he brought me a present--that wireless
machine, there. Did you ever see as fine a one as that? (_He gazes
lovingly at the radio._) It's mine--but they won't let me play it.

(ELENA _comes in, now wearing a graceful tea-gown_.)

        ILSE

Oh--that's too bad!

(EMIL _signals to_ ILSE _to behold_ FRAU KRUG.)

        EMIL (_bowing_)

Frau Krug!

        ELENA (_shaking hands with_ ILSE, _who rises_)

How do you do?

        ILSE (_timorously_)

How do you do, Frau Krug?

        ELENA

Father--aren't you going to introduce us?

        KRUG

I don't know their names. They're students. (_He goes over to the right
and sits down with his pipe and his newspaper._)

        ELENA (_to_ EMIL)

I'm afraid I've kept you waiting.

        EMIL (_stiffly_)

Oh, no. We are the intruders. The Herr Professor's with a patient.

        KRUG

It's a lady who came all the way from Pennsylvania with complaints.

        EMIL

If I may say so, Frau Krug . . . I . . . well--I . . . (_There is an
awkward pause._)

        ELENA

Why, my dear boy--of course you may say anything.

        EMIL

Well, I . . . it was nothing. . . .

        ELENA

Oh, come--it must have been something. You're embarrassed.

        EMIL (_with a sheepish laugh_)

I'm afraid so.

        KRUG

He was going to say that he doesn't believe _you_ have any complaints,
like that woman out there. . . .

        EMIL

I was going to say nothing of the kind! It was something entirely
different--a--a compliment----

        ELENA

Oh--but that would have been the highest compliment of all!

        ILSE (_nervously_)

I think, Frau Krug--I think that Emil meant to say that we both admire
the imaginativeness of this room.

        ELENA

Oh! I should have liked that too. . . . Now--do sit down and tell me how
you are getting on with your studies. (_They all sit._)

        ILSE

I'm afraid I don't know very much yet. You see I'm new. Emil is the
Professor's favorite.

        ELENA

Really! What does the Professor teach you?

        ILSE

Everything!

        ELENA

Oh?

        ILSE

I mean, everything that's worth knowing.

        ELENA

For example?

        ILSE (_lamely_)

Well--he makes us understand that if you'll only _think_ right, you'll
_live_ right. I mean--if you can make what's in your subconscious come
to the surface--then you'll know what it is--and you'll know what to do
about it.

        EMIL (_unable longer to curb his eloquence_)

No, no! It's infinitely more than that. He's gone far beyond
psychoanalysis. He teaches us the gospel of the better life--the life
that is seen through the eyes of the biologist's microscope and in the
changing colors of the chemist's test tube. He teaches us that the
forward progress of man must be regulated by the statistician's
inexorable curve, and not by the encyclicals of priests or the ukases of
kings. He teaches us to banish from the world all false fear of God--to
know Him, and recognize Him only as a measurable force in cosmic
technology. He teaches us to look into ourselves--our bodies, our
minds--and not to the vague hills of mysticism, for the knowledge that
will set us free.

        ELENA

Well--that _does_ cover about everything, doesn't it? (_She treats_ EMIL
_to a sympathetic smile_.) And when you have absorbed all the knowledge
there is, what will you do with it?

        EMIL

I shall try to carry it to others--to share it with all mankind.

        ELENA

I see. You're to be another Paul.

        EMIL

Another Paul?

        ELENA

Yes--Paul! The Apostle!

        EMIL

Oh--yes.

        ELENA (_to_ ILSE)

And how about you?

        ILSE

I suppose there'll be plenty of work for all of us.

        EMIL (_rising_)

You see, Madam--the world is very young.

        ELENA

Very _young_?

        EMIL

Why--hardly more than ten years ago we were living under conditions of
medivalism.

        ELENA

Ten years!

        EMIL

When I look at the decaying relics of the old order, the gaunt, empty
palace of the Habsburgs, and the silly monuments they erected to their
own glory--I bless the war and the revolution that delivered us from the
tyranny of ignorance.

        ELENA

And what do you say when you look at me?

        ILSE

At _you_, Frau Krug? What possible connection has that . . .

        ELENA

I'm one of the relics of the middle ages, of ten years ago.

(ANTON _comes in from the left_.)

        EMIL

You are the wife of the most enlightened scientist in Austria.

        ANTON

Emil! I overheard that last remark.

        EMIL

Yes, sir.

        ANTON

I'm afraid you must have misunderstood me. I wanted you to flatter her,
not me. (_He goes to the bookcase at the back._)

        ELENA

They've been charming, both of them.

        ANTON (_casually looking for a book_)

I'm glad to hear it. . . . The one thing these students have difficulty
in developing is the correct bedside manner. . . . Is that copy of _Sons
and Lovers_ here?

        ELENA

I think it's there--somewhere.

        ANTON

I want to give it to that Pennsylvania woman. It might help her. . . .
Ah--here it is.

        ELENA

What's the trouble with her?

        ANTON

The usual one--another frustration! For twenty years she's been
measuring her poor husband in terms of her first love--the one that got
away. . . .

        ELENA

And what are you prescribing, beside that book?

        ANTON

She must find her first lover, and have a good look at him as he is now.
He's a manufacturer of dental supplies. I think she'll be cured. . . .
(_He smiles at_ ELENA _and goes out at the left_.)

        ELENA

I hope he does help her. It must be awful to be always unsatisfied, and
puzzled. . . .

        EMIL (_with complete conviction_)

He'll cure her--if she has the capacity to understand.

        ELENA

You worship him, don't you?

        EMIL

All youth must worship him. He is leading us from the darkness--into the
light.

        ELENA

Do you hear that, father? Your son is a god.

        KRUG

Yes--that's what they say.

        ILSE

Frau Krug . . .

        ELENA

Yes, dear.

        ILSE (_hesitantly_)

There's a question I'd like to ask. You see--the point is that we, Emil
and I--we know only the present, the age of reason since the Revolution.
You know something of the past.

        EMIL (_reproving her quietly_)

Ilse . . .

        ELENA

That's quite all right. Why shouldn't I know the past? I'm old enough to
be your mother. (_They both protest._) Well, practically. . . . Now,
come--what was the question that you want to ask?

        KRUG

She wants you to tell her what you know of the Habsburgs.

        EMIL

Frau Krug--I swear that we pay no attention to the scandalous gossip
that evil, malicious bourgeois . . .

        ELENA (_cutting in_)

Oh, but you should. You want to be psychoanalysts, don't you?

        ILSE

Well . . .

        EMIL

Of course, we do!

        ELENA

Then there's every reason for you to do research work.

        EMIL

Research work is to be done in the laboratory--not in the drawing-room.

        ELENA

My dear boy--when you have been fully inoculated with the germ of
scientific culture you will realize that all the world is your
laboratory--and all the men and women in it merely guinea-pigs. I'm one
of them--and I'm here to be explored. As a matter of fact, I'm a
peculiarly interesting specimen--ask my husband if I'm not. He'll tell
you that most of his vast knowledge of human frailty comes from
observation of me. (_To_ ILSE.) Now, please! Just what did you want to
know?

        ILSE

It would be helpful to know how you see all the changes--whether you
think we are advanced, for all our knowledge, or . . .

        ELENA

Aren't you content to take my husband's word for it that the world has
improved?

        EMIL

I ask for no other assurance. I need none.

        ELENA (_to_ EMIL)

I know. But--(_to_ ILSE)--I gather that you're not so sure.

        ILSE (_tremulous_)

The trouble is--I'm not sure of my_self_.

        ELENA

Oh?

        ILSE

I--I had an experience.

        ELENA

Ah! I see! (_She draws her chair closer to_ ILSE. KRUG, _who has been
listening, draws his a bit nearer_.) Tell me about it.

        ILSE (_hesitantly_)

It was very strange, and terribly disturbing. I've tried to account for
my emotional reaction to it, but I can't do it. I was in Nice on my
vacation, and I called a taxi. When I was in it, I happened to look in
the little mirror, above the driver's seat, and I saw his eyes. He was
staring at me, openly, insolently. They were the queerest eyes I've ever
seen. I kept looking at them--although I didn't want to. I felt sure I'd
seen him before. He was driving frightfully fast--on those narrow roads
that run along the brinks of cliffs--crazily. That wasn't where I
wanted to go at all, but I'd forgotten about that. I thought the cab
would go over the edge any minute. Finally, I screamed out to him to
stop--but I was so terrified that I forgot to say it in French. I spoke
German. And with that he did stop, and stepped from his seat in the
front and climbed into the inside of the taxi and sat down beside me.
And he said, "I thought so! There was something about your eyelids that
identified you as a Viennese. I am Viennese too. In fact, _I'm one of
those who imparted to Vienna its now faded glory._" Then he put his arms
around me and gave me a long kiss.

        KRUG (_softly_)

Well--well----

        ELENA (_slowly_)

A taxi-driver.

        ILSE

He kissed me so that I couldn't seem to utter a word of protest. I tried
to tell myself that he was nothing more than an emotional extravert--but
that didn't seem to help me. Then he said: "Permit me to introduce
myself: I am the Archduke Rudolf Maximillian von Habsburg."

        ELENA (_nodding_)

Yes! (KRUG _laughs boisterously_. ELENA _rises_.) Father!

(KRUG _stifles his mirth_.)

        EMIL

I don't believe it. It was probably some impostor.

        ILSE

No. I asked them at the hotel when I got back. They told me he was well
known in Nice.

        KRUG

How long was it be_fore_ you got back?

        ILSE

Oh, he took me right back. . . . You see, he'd stopped his cab in the
middle of the road, blocking traffic, and some policemen came along, so
he had to remember he was a taxi-driver. . . . (_A little sadly._)

        KRUG

Oh, dear.

        EMIL (_to_ ILSE, _in an undertone_)

You've said about enough!

        ELENA

What did he look like?

        ILSE

He looked as if he'd stepped right out of one of those portraits in the
old palace.

        ELENA

Yes! I know. Those full, rich lips.

        ILSE (_in ardent agreement_)

Yes! That's why I thought I'd seen him before. . . . And when I wanted
to pay him the fare, he waved it away, and said, "Nonsense, my dear--on
this ride, you have been my guest!"

        KRUG

I should say you had. (_He laughs._) Just like him! Isn't it, Elena?
Just exactly like all of them.

        EMIL (_vehemently_)

If I had been there, I should have punched his nose.

        ELENA

No--I don't think you would have.

        ILSE

Indeed, you wouldn't! It's all very well for you to talk--but if you'd
seen him as I did, you wouldn't have been able to say a word except,
"Yes, your Imperial Highness!"

        ELENA (_to_ ILSE)

I gather that you considered the experience not entirely disagreeable.

        ILSE

I can't decide what I think about it.

        ELENA

Have you consulted Doctor Krug?

        ILSE

I haven't had the courage to confess to him how weak I was.

        KRUG

You don't have to consult him. . . . Elena--you know more about these
things than Anton ever will, with all his experiments. Tell them about
that time when the old Emperor caught you and Rudolf Maximillian, posing
on the fountain at Schnbrunn, both naked as the day you were born.

        ILSE (_gasping_)

Oh--then you _knew_ him!

        KRUG

_Knew_ him! (_He can't contain his merriment._)

        ILSE

Oh--then I've said something awful.

        EMIL

Yes!

        ELENA

No, my dear. It wasn't awful at all. I enjoyed every word of it.

(ANTON _has come in_.)

        ELENA

Anton, you should have stayed away for another half hour. I was just
about to give your students a lecture.

        ANTON

On what subject?

        ELENA

On the past.

        ANTON

Whose?

        ELENA

Mine.

        ANTON

Then don't let me interrupt. Proceed with it, at once. It's very
exciting.

        ELENA

No, it isn't. It's very dull. But . . . (_to_ ILSE.) . . . you were
right about one thing--it is instructive. And you also (_to_ EMIL) were
right, in all those eloquent speeches you made about the better life.
Oh, Anton, you'd have been proud of him.

        ANTON (_smiling_)

Go on with your own lecture.

        ELENA (_to the students_)

It is a better life--and I can say that with authority. I was one of the
many evils of the old rgime--I and that weird taxi-driver who
entertained you in his cab.

        ANTON

What _is_ all this?

        ELENA

She had an encounter with Rudolf.

        ANTON (_startled_)

Here in Vienna?

        ELENA

No--in Nice.

        ANTON (_relieved_)

Oh!

        ELENA (_to_ ILSE)

You must tell him all about it. He'll analyze your emotional reactions,
as he analyzed mine. I needed his treatment--(_she looks at_ ANTON; _there
is an exchange of understanding between them_)--a great deal of it. He
cured me--and I delivered myself, body and mind, to the new god. (_She
puts her hand on_ ANTON'S _shoulder_.) You need have no doubts as to the
legitimacy of that god. You can believe in him, you can worship him, you
can follow him to the last statistic!

        EMIL (_fervently_)

Your words are inspiring, Madam!

        ELENA

I intended them to be.

        ANTON

Well! All this is elevating our studies to an alarmingly high plane.
(KATHIE _enters from the right, carrying a silver plate on which are
several cards_.) However, if you neophytes will step into my office,
we'll celebrate high mass.

        KATHIE

Some callers, ma'am.

        KRUG (_rising_)                                }
                                                       }
Who? Who _is_ it?                                      }
                                                       }
        ELENA                                          } (_Together_)
                                                       }
Just a minute, Kathie. Good-bye, Ilse, and don't worry }
about those emotions. They're not uncommon.            }

        ILSE

I know--that's what worries me.

(KRUG _has gone to_ KATHIE _to have a look at the cards on the plate_.)

        ELENA

Good-bye, Emil.

        EMIL

You remember my name!

        ELENA

Yes, that's one good result of my education under the Habsburgs.

        KRUG (_excitedly_)

Elena!

        ELENA (_not stopping_)

I was trained to remember. (_She beams upon_ EMIL.)

        KRUG

Elena! It's the Count and Countess Von Stainz.

        ELENA (_startled_)

Von Stainz? (_She leaves_ EMIL _abruptly to look at the cards_.)

        KRUG

And Frau Lucher, the old lady herself--and that Povoromo, that guide . . .

        ELENA (_to_ KATHIE)

They're _here_?

        KATHIE

Yes, ma'am.

        KRUG

Certainly they're here, and I know why.

        KATHIE

They're downstairs in the hall--they beg to see you.

        ANTON (_to the students_)

Will you wait in the office? I'll be with you in a minute.

(ILSE _and_ EMIL _go out at the left_.)

        KRUG

I can tell you _exactly_ what they're after!

        ANTON

What do they want?

        KRUG

They want her to go to that party at Lucher's Hotel!

        ANTON

Party! What party?

        KRUG

They're having a big celebration! There's going to be a rumpus! (_He is
in a high state of glee at this unexpected development, but no one is
paying any attention to him._)

        ELENA (_to_ ANTON)

It's the hundredth anniversary of the birth of that noble monarch, Franz
Josef the First. Frau Lucher thought that it should be fittingly
observed.

        KRUG

Yes, and she's bribed the police!

        ANTON

Well--what about it?

        KRUG

They want Elena to go, that's what about it!

        ANTON

Do you want to go, Elena?

        ELENA

Anton!

        ANTON

What?

        ELENA

I don't want to see these people.

        ANTON

Why not? They're friends of yours, aren't they?

        ELENA

They were, a long time ago.

        ANTON

Well, then--in that case--I can't see why . . . (_He sees_ KATHIE.) Wait
in the hall, Kathie.

        KATHIE

Yes, Herr Doctor. (_She goes out at the right and shuts the door._)

        KRUG

Why do you want her to wait in the hall?

        ANTON

If they're old friends of yours, I can't see any reason why you should
refuse them. . . . Unless . . .

        ELENA

Unless what?

        ANTON

Unless there might be disagreeable associations.

        ELENA (_with surprising vehemence_)

Of course there are disagreeable associations! The Count and Countess
Von Stainz are dreadful people. They were two of the worst of the court
toadies.

        ANTON

But what about this Povoromo? He's a harmless and rather pathetic
professional guide. There's nothing upsetting about . . .

        KRUG

But don't you remember--he was one of the cronies of the Archduke. . . .

        ANTON

And Frau Lucher--what's wrong with her?

        ELENA

I hate her! I hate the sight of her hotel!

        ANTON

Why? . . . Because it was the scene of so many of your youthful
indiscretions with him!

        KRUG

Are you talking about Rudolf Maximillian?

        ANTON

That damned name again! (_He crosses to the door at the left._) Now
please, Elena--if you don't want to see them, then don't see them. But
don't ask me what to do. I have those students on my hands. I'm very
busy. (_He goes out._)

        KRUG

Did you hear what he said about that damned name? He can't seem to get
over it.

(ELENA _crosses to the right_.)

        ELENA

Kathie.

        KATHIE

Yes, ma'am.

        ELENA

Tell them to come up.

        KATHIE

Yes, ma'am.

        KRUG (_delighted_)

That's the way, Elena! (_He sits down and makes himself entirely
comfortable._) It'll do you good to talk to 'em. I often think you don't
see half enough of your old friends.

        ELENA

Go to your room, Father.

        KRUG

Why?

        ELENA

Because I want you to.

        KRUG

But I'd like to have a look at them.

        ELENA

Go on! Please.

        KRUG (_going_)

Oh, dear! They never let me see anything interesting that goes on in
this house. . . . (_He has shuffled out at the upper left._)

(KATHIE _returns, holding open the door_.)

        KATHIE

In here, please.

(FRAU LUCHER _comes in. She is a formidable old party, absurdly dressed
in ancient clothes, but imposing. Her voice is gruff, her expression
unchangeably hostile, her manner toward all arrogant and despotic.
Behind her come the_ COUNT _and_ COUNTESS VON STAINZ _and_ POFFY. _The_
COUNT _is about fifty-five. On his gray countenance are the ravages of
time, disappointment, and drink. His courtliness, however, is
unimpaired. The_ COUNTESS, _about fifty, is dowdy and excessively
emotional_. POFFY _is a tragic but gallant ex-officer of the Imperial
Army, who is now engaged in the great work of guiding American tourists
about the Hofburg_.)

        ELENA

Tatti! I'm _so_ glad . . .

        COUNTESS

Elena! My angel! My beautiful little angel! (_She rushes into an
embrace._)

        ELENA (_to the_ COUNT, _over the_ COUNTESS'S _shoulder_)

Hello, Franz, how are you?

        COUNT

Not very well, thank you.

(POFFY _and_ LUCHER _have hung back, as though dubious of the quality of
their reception_.)

        ELENA

I'm so sorry. Hello, Poffy.

        POFFY (_bowing_)

Elena!

        ELENA

Good afternoon, Frau Lucher.

        LUCHER

Good afternoon, Frau Krug.

        COUNTESS

But, my _darling_! Ten years have passed and you are not one day older.
Look at her, Franz!

        COUNT

I have been looking at her.

        LUCHER

Would you mind if I sat down? (_She sits, heavily, on a chair at the
left._)

        ELENA

No. Everybody sit down.

        LUCHER

My feet hurt.

        COUNTESS

I can't take my eyes off you, my little angel. You're lovely! I'm about
to sob!

        ELENA

Now don't be embarrassing, Tatti.

        LUCHER

Let her sob if it'll make her any happier.

        COUNT

Don't mind our gaping at you, Elena. It makes us think that maybe we
haven't grown old, either.

        ELENA

Where have you been?

        COUNTESS

In a ghastly London suburb . . .

        COUNT

Upper Tooting, if you must know.

        COUNTESS

Breathing in English fog, eating English food . . .

        COUNT

And drinking English beer.

        LUCHER

That isn't beer!

        COUNT

Which reminds me, Elena--my throat is parched.

        COUNTESS

Franz!

        COUNT

Would it be causing you too much trouble if I . . .

        LUCHER

He's asking for a drink.

(ELENA _goes up to a table on which are a decanter and some glasses_.)

        ELENA

I have some port here--would port do?

        COUNT

Admirably!

        COUNTESS

I told you you were not to touch a drop!

        COUNT

We've had a long train journey and I simply must wash the cinders from
my gullet.

        COUNTESS

Elena, don't give it to him!

        ELENA

Oh, a little port can't hurt him, Tatti. (_She hands him the glass._)

        COUNT

Of course not. Your health, my dear.

        LUCHER

Do you mind if I smoke?

        ELENA

No, have a cigarette.

(LUCHER _has opened her enormous black hand-bag and extracted therefrom
a large silver cigar-case_.)

        LUCHER

You needn't bother. (_She takes out a cigar, and bites off the end._)

        ELENA

Still smoking the same brand?

        LUCHER

No, those Cubans no longer send the cream of the crop to Vienna.

(POFFY _steps forward to light the cigar_.)

        COUNTESS

There is nothing the same here. After ten years of exile--to find this.
Oh, Elena--if you only _knew_ what we've been through. _I've_ been a
seamstress, my darling. A _seamstress_! Making sensible underwear for
English frumps. We've gone without lunch for three months in order to
save enough to be here. And I give you my word, when we arrived here
this morning, and drove through the streets, we wept--we literally
_wept_--to see that our beloved Vienna is undergoing its last, gruesome
agonies.

        ELENA

Those aren't death agonies that you see, Tatti. They're the throes of
childbirth. A new life is being created.

        COUNTESS

_You_ may well say that. (_She looks about the room._) The new life
seems to have done well for you.

        ELENA

Yes, it has! (_There is, perhaps, a suggestion of defiance in this._)

        COUNT (_tactfully_)

And by the way--I hope we're to be presented to your husband.

        ELENA

I'm afraid he's rather busy just now.

        COUNTESS

What's he like, this doctor of yours?

        ELENA

Well--he's brilliant, and charming, and kind . . .

        POFFY

And famous! When I'm guiding American tourists past here, I point with
pride--"Residence of the eminent Dr. Krug"--and they're thrilled.

        ELENA (_smiling_)

Especially the women.

        POFFY

Ah, yes!

        LUCHER

Isn't it about time to come to the main subject? That is--if you all
feel that there have been enough polite preliminaries.

        ELENA

There's no great hurry.

        POFFY

By all means! Proceed, Lucher!

        LUCHER

Well--the main subject is this, in so many words: they want you to
change your mind about attending the party this evening. They begged me
to come with them, and talk with you, on the supposition that I can
terrorize any one into doing anything I ask. Strictly between ourselves,
I don't think you'll be missing much if you don't come. By the looks of
this gathering, it won't be very . . .

        COUNTESS

If that's what you think, then why are you giving this party?

        COUNT

Why have you invited us?

        LUCHER

Even I have my sentimental moments, Countess. When I realized that this
was the hundredth anniversary, I thought that we might have a revival of
the old insanity, for one evening, at my expense. I thought there might
be a bit of amusement. However, I've decided that I was over-optimistic
. . . so now you know how I feel about all this, Frau Krug, and perhaps
you'll be good enough to tell them how _you_ feel, and get it over with.

        COUNT

You really can't disappoint us, Elena. We've looked forward so to this,
and to having you there, laughing, in the way you always laughed.

        ELENA

But that's just it, Franz. I couldn't laugh. I'd probably weep.

        COUNTESS

Splendid! We'll all weep together, and have a glorious time!

        LUCHER

And when you've become sufficiently gloomy, you'll start throwing
bottles through windows. I know!

        ELENA

Who's to be here?

        COUNT

Well--old General Hoetzler is expected . . .

        ELENA

_Is_ he?

        COUNT

Do you know what he's doing now? He's a train announcer in the railway
station at Erfurt.

        ELENA

The poor old dear.

        COUNTESS

And Talisz is coming. He's a bookkeeper, somewhere or other. And then
the two Koeppkes--I forget what they do.

        LUCHER

They run a lodging house in Zermatt--and I've _heard_ . . .

        ALL

Yes?

        LUCHER

Well--never mind.

        POFFY

And the beautiful Gisella Von Krett. She's here already.

        ELENA

Gisella!

        POFFY

She's a governess with a Sicilian family in Palermo.

        ELENA

And who else? Is there anyone else?

        POFFY

Well--of course there were a good many who wanted to come but they
were--lacking in funds.

        COUNT

Oh, but more will turn up at the last minute to help us consume Lucher's
champagne. It's sure to be the jolliest gathering. . . .

        LUCHER

Did I say that champagne would be served?

        COUNT

I have never attended a party at the Hotel Lucher without champagne.

        POFFY

You're thinking of the days when we paid--and well--for our drinks.

        ELENA

Oh, I think Frau Lucher won't be stingy with her champagne. Will you?

        COUNT

That's right, Elena. You were the only one who could ever order her
about. You and Rudolf. (LUCHER _bursts out laughing_.) What in God's
name are you roaring at?

        LUCHER

I was just thinking of something. (_She is still emitting gusty, gaseous
roars of laughter._)

        POFFY (_to_ ELENA)

I gather it was something mildly amusing.

        LUCHER

Oh, you remember it, Poffy--the night that Rudolf gave her the diamond
necklace. You were there.

        POFFY

I was indeed.

        LUCHER

He came stalking into my caf at two o'clock in the morning--cursing at
me--cursing at Strup--presenting medals to the bus-boys. He said he had
to have a magnum of 1812, a basket of pomegranates, and a diamond
necklace for Frulein Vervesz--_at once!_--or he'd break every bone in
my old body. I had to rout Barnowsky the jeweler out of bed to get the
diamonds.

        COUNT (_laughing_)

Served him right, the old bandit.

        LUCHER (_to_ ELENA)

And when I gave His Imperial Highness the necklace, he never said so
much as a "Thank you." He merely snatched it, and then threw it into
your lap.

        ELENA (_to_ LUCHER)

No, no! That wasn't what he did. He didn't give me the necklace until
later, when we were upstairs. He first took hold of my hand and said,
"Isn't it about time for a dance?" Then he waltzed me out of the room,
and on the way out we bumped into you.

(ANTON _comes in_.)

        LUCHER

But I burned his neck with my cigar. (_They all laugh--but their mirth
congeals when they see_ ANTON. _The_ COUNT _and_ POFFY _rise_.)

        ELENA

Anton, are you finished with the students already?

        ANTON

Yes, I dismissed them. I was anxious to meet your friends.

        ELENA (_surprised_)

Oh. . . . This is my husband.

        ANTON

How do you do, Frau Lucher?

        ELENA

The Count and Countess Von Stainz--Herr Povoromo. (_There are murmured
salutations._)

        ANTON

Yes. I know Herr Povoromo.

        COUNT

Herr Professor Doctor--permit me to felicitate you upon your wife. She
is quite the most gracious, the most sympathetic and the loveliest of
the ladies.

        ANTON (_bowing_)

I am inclined to agree with you.

        COUNTESS

Herr Professor--we came to beg Elena, to plead with her, to be with us
this evening.

        COUNT

It isn't so much a matter of pleading--though we'll do that, too, heaven
knows. But we do want to assure her what a delightful occasion . . .

        LUCHER (_flatly_)

The fact is that, without Frau Krug, the party will be a disaster.

        ANTON (_amiably_)

Well--in that case--I hope she'll go.

        COUNTESS

There, Elena, that settles it! Your husband approves.

        LUCHER

Perhaps the Herr Professor Doctor will also attend?

        ANTON

Oh, that's very kind of you, but I really couldn't. I'm afraid I
shouldn't quite belong.

        ELENA

I've been afraid I shouldn't belong either. But now I'm beginning to
think that it might be great fun.

        COUNT

Good for you, Elena!

        COUNTESS

And good for you, Herr Doctor! You are worthy of her!

        COUNT

You're going to make this occasion a memorable one.

        LUCHER (_with an air of finality_)

Well, now that that's settled, we can go.

        POFFY (_stepping forward, hesitantly_)

Just one minute, Elena.

        ELENA

Yes, Poffy?

        POFFY

Elena--I--think I know why you're changing your mind.

        ELENA

Why?

        POFFY

Because you realize this celebration will be nothing more than a
gathering of broken-down old outcasts, like myself--with no one to give
us animation, no one to give us the illusion of youth . . . but . . .
I'm afraid that it may not be quite what you expect. . . .

        LUCHER

What are you _talking_ about?

        POFFY (_deliberately_)

I received a message this afternoon.

        ELENA

Yes? (_As though she had expected this._)

        POFFY

I was instructed to say nothing about it to any one. But I think
you should know about it before you go to that party; and you too
should know, Herr Professor . . . if I might have a word with you
in private . . .

        COUNTESS

In private? What on earth . . .

        POFFY

You'll forgive me . . .

        COUNT (_stepping toward_ POFFY)

Rudolf?

        ELENA

He's to be here?

        LUCHER

No!

        POFFY

He left Nice yesterday on his way to Vienna.

        COUNTESS

Rudolf!

        COUNT (_exultantly_)

I can't believe it! It's too good to . . .

        ANTON

Will they allow him to cross the border?

        LUCHER (_emphatically_)

No! They'll never let him in after all the things he's said and done.
The officials are so stupid that the smaller fry can sneak past them,
begging your pardon, Count and Countess, but they're not so stupid as to
allow the most violent member of the Habsburg faction to get back into
Austria.

        POFFY

Regardless of all that, Elena--I thought you should know. I ask your
pardon, Herr Professor, for having mentioned the subject.

        ANTON

Not at all. There's nothing I can say. It's for Elena to decide.

        ELENA

I'm not going.

        COUNTESS

But, my little angel--what Lucher said is true. He couldn't possibly
come into the country . . .

        ELENA

I'm not going!

        COUNT

You can't change your mind, Elena. We need you. You've always made
things go. Have you forgotten all those times when . . .

        ELENA

Yes. I have forgotten. And my dear old friends, I advise you to forget,
too.

        COUNTESS

You're asking a great deal of people who have nothing but memories to
live on.

        ELENA

That's just it! You're trying to live on something that doesn't exist.
That's why you're all so degraded and spent. That's why you have to drug
yourselves with such infantile pretense as this reunion. Wallowing in
sentiment! Weeping into your beer!

        COUNTESS

I never hope to hear a more heartless, brutal statement--and from you,
Elena, of all people.

        ELENA

I know it's brutal--and I feel miserable for having said it, if that's
any consolation to you. But it's all true, every word of it. You know it
is.

        LUCHER

Of course it's true! I only wish you'd said it all to me before I'd let
myself in for this nonsense.

        COUNTESS

It would have been kinder to have told your servant to deny us
admission. . . .

        ELENA

Yes.

        COUNTESS

To have slammed the door in our faces.

        ELENA

You're right, Tatti.

        COUNT (_to_ POFFY)

Why didn't you have sense enough to obey orders and keep that
information to yourself?

        ELENA (_interrupting_)

No, don't blame him. It was very good of you to warn me, Poffy. But the
warning didn't make the slightest difference. You can see why--and so
can you, Lucher. You've been in Vienna all through this. You know how
changed everything is.

        POFFY

I know, I know, my dear Elena. We've put you in a horribly unfair
position.

        COUNTESS

_We're_ not doing that! It's not _our_ fault that she's turned against
her own kind.

        POFFY

It's only proof of her good sense.

        COUNT

Yes--and look at the results of her good sense! And then look at us, who
wouldn't accept the inevitable.

        COUNTESS

It's to our everlasting credit that we didn't. (_She goes over to the_
COUNT, _and takes his arm_.)

        LUCHER (_rising laboriously_)

I'm not enjoying this discussion. . . . Come on. . . . I must arrange
about the flowers for the party. I'm getting them second-hand from Gruen
the undertaker. . . . Good-bye, Frau Krug. Stop in at the hotel some
time for a cup of coffee. (_She goes out at the right._)

        COUNTESS

Good-bye, Elena. I doubt very much that we shall see you again. (_She
goes out._)

        COUNT (_with attempted courtesy_)

You see--we start the homeward journey to England to-morrow.

        ELENA

Good-bye, Franz.

        COUNT

Herr Professor Doctor. (_He bows and goes._)

        POFFY

I'm sorry, Elena--very sorry. . . .

        ELENA

Good-bye, Poffy. Come to see us again soon. Perhaps my husband can
do . . .

        POFFY

My duties as professional guide occupy much of my time--but perhaps I'll
find a brief opportunity. Good-bye, Herr Doctor. Good-bye, Elena. (_He
kisses her hand and goes. For a few moments_, ELENA _stares angrily at
the door through which they have gone_.)

        ANTON

You did not appear to best advantage in that encounter.

        ELENA (_too heatedly_)

What could I have said or done to make those imbeciles understand? They
think I could sit there, and joke with them, and drink with them, as
though nothing had happened.

        ANTON (_gently_)

You said that it might be great fun.

        ELENA

Fun! Carousing with the Countess Von Stainz? And there'll be others at
the party even worse than she is.

        ANTON

When I came into this room, you were laughing with them. You were just
about to accept their invitation.

        ELENA

Why did you come in here at all, if you were so colossally busy? Why
didn't you let me get rid of them by myself?

        ANTON

I came to the conclusion that you should go to that party.

        ELENA

What?

        ANTON

There seems to me no reason why you shouldn't. . . .

        ELENA (_facing him_)

Are you going to carry on the attack?

        ANTON

Attack against what?

        ELENA

Against my peace of mind!

        ANTON

I thought so.

        ELENA

Oh! I suppose you consider that it will be good for me to go there and
feel wretched and out of place, merely to assure myself that I'm right.
Do I have to go there for that?

        ANTON

Are you entirely sure that you are right?

        ELENA

You can stand there and ask me that?

        ANTON

If you take my advice, Elena, you'll go. You know, you may not be quite
the calm, superior being that you fancy yourself.

        ELENA (_interrupting_)

Are you prescribing for me, as though I were . . .

        ANTON

Yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. The tender spot has been uncovered.
Now we can take measures to cure it. . . . Elena, as your family
physician, as well as your husband, I order you to go to Lucher's
to-night, and do the inane things you used to do, and that you still
secretly think were gloriously romantic.

        ELENA

Anton--I know you've been subjecting me to treatment ever since we were
married. But you've at least been subtle about it. Now your methods are
a little too obvious to be effective.

        ANTON

I've revised my methods because I learned something myself when I saw
you with your old friends. You deliver all this fine talk about the old
days and the new--the woman who was reborn after the revolution. And now
some pitiable spectres appear to you and you can't bear to face them.

        ELENA

I can face anything, including your vast overpowering intellect.

        ANTON

There are some things you can't face, my darling, because you can't see
them. You're still in a state of emotional bondage. You're tied to those
people by a cord that's strong even though it's invisible. You must cut
that cord--and here's the chance to do it.

        ELENA

When I require your professional services I shall make an appointment
and come to your office.

        ANTON

The appointment is now! (_They face each other through a moment of angry
silence. Then_ ELENA _goes to him_.)

        ELENA

Oh, Anton--this is so silly.

        ANTON

No, it isn't silly. (_They sit down together on the end of the couch._)

        ELENA

Two grown-up people, shouting at each other . . .

        ANTON

Sometimes we have to shout. . . . Elena--there's never been a complete
understanding between us. There's been a ghost in our house, an arrogant
ghost, blocking the fulfillment of our life together. A thousand
different times when I thought that at last we'd achieved the thing that
we both want, he has stepped into the room, and laughed at me.

(ELENA _glances involuntarily toward the door at the right_.)

        ELENA

The bearer of that damned name!

        ANTON

Yes. . . . When I heard he might be there to-night it was something of a
shock. . . . But then I thought of the advice I had given to other
patients of mine. . . . You've seen what ten years have done to the
Count and Countess Von Stainz. Well--see what the same years have done
to him. . . . Go to that party, have a good look at him, and then come
home and admit that I'm right.

        ELENA

You're always right, Anton. That's your only fault.

        ANTON (_laughing_)

Yes--I've often worried about that. (_He kisses her hair._) Now come, my
dear, dress yourself up, and try to persuade your old friends that
you're still one of them. Sing, dance, flirt--relax! Let yourself go
completely! And see what happens.

        ELENA

Let myself go. . . . Is that the prescription?

        ANTON

Why not?

(_Old_ KRUG _bustles in from the upper left_.)

        KRUG

Well--I saw them! I had a good look at them from the window--and a more
down-at-the-heel lot I never clapped eyes on. Oh, I laughed! I laughed
when I thought of the old days when . . .

        ANTON

You talk too much. (_He has risen and is going toward the door to his
offices._)

        KRUG

Then maybe I can play the wireless?

        ANTON

No. (_To_ ELENA.) Put on that white dress. You know--the one you got in
Paris. You look lovely in that. (_He goes out at the left._)

        KRUG (_mystified_)

He wants you to dress up. What for? Does he want you to go to the party?
(_He comes close to her._)

        ELENA

He's a little mixed up. He has me confused with that last patient of
his--the one from Pennsylvania.

        KRUG

I don't understand what you mean, Elena. Has anything gone wrong?

        ELENA

No, father. Not yet. . . . Why don't you play the wireless?

        KRUG

Now?

        ELENA

Yes, dear--I want to hear it.

        KRUG

Ah, Elena--_you're_ my friend! (_He leans over her. She pats his cheek,
tenderly. . . . He then turns, happily, goes up to the radio, and
switches it on. It is playing "The Dollar Princess Waltz."_)

        KRUG

Listen, Elena. It's the band at the Bristol. They always play the old
tunes, for a half hour before supper--to give us old-timers an appetite.
. . . It's beautiful, isn't it? (_He comes down, toward the right._)

        ELENA

No. (_Nevertheless, she is swaying ever so slightly in time to the
music._ _Old_ KRUG _watches her, fascinated. . . . At length she rises,
crosses to the door at the left, and knocks._ KRUG _sits down at the
right to await developments_.)

        ELENA (_calling_)

Anton!

        KRUG

Oh, what do you want _him_ for? He'll only make us turn it off.

(ANTON _appears in the doorway_.)

        ANTON

What is it?

        ELENA

Will you please look in the safe--in my jewel box? There's a necklace
there--a diamond necklace.

        ANTON

I'll get it. (_He goes out._)

(_Swaying more perceptibly, exuberantly, to the rhythm of "The Dollar
Princess," she crosses to the chair where old_ KRUG _is sitting_.)

        KRUG

You didn't mean what you said, about the music, did you, Elena? It
really is beautiful, isn't it?

        ELENA

Yes, father. Beautiful. (_She extends her arms. Gleefully, he jumps up.
They waltz together._)


                             CURTAIN




ACT II

_The scene is a private room upstairs in the Hotel Lucher, a stuffy
edifice built in the gaslit 'Eighties. Although redolent of stale plush,
which is suggestive to the Anglo-Saxon mind of Victorianism and
therefore of dreary propriety, this venerable tavern retains a winked
intimation of Viennese caprice. Its sombre salons can still sparkle with
happy imaginings of frivolities which no longer are--and perhaps never
were--but which eternally should be._

_At right, down-stage, is a leather swinging door, leading to the
pantries and kitchens. Up-stage right and left are two more doors. In
the centre, at the back, double doors open upon a bedroom in which is an
enormous, canopied bed. Downstage left, double doors open upon a larger
room in which the banquet is to be held._

_Above the door at the back, which is two or three steps up from the
level of the stage, is hung an oval portrait of the late Emperor Franz
Josef I. A_ PORTER, _on a step-ladder, is arranging laurel festoons
about this portrait. Another_ PORTER _is holding the ladder_.

_At the left is a gilded couch with plum-colored brocade upholstery. By
it is a small gilded, marble-topped tabouret. At the right is a round
table, also marble-topped, behind which, as though enthroned, sits_ FRAU
LUCHER, _administering orders to a respectful, palpitant group which
includes_ STRUP, _the aged head-waiter, and_ BREDZI, _the band-leader,
who is wearing a frogged green coat and is carrying his violin. He has
given_ LUCHER _the programme of selections for the evening and is
awaiting her verdict on it. . . . There are also present two lesser_
WAITERS _and two quivering_ BUS-BOYS. A BELL-BOY _is posted in the
doorway at the left. . . . There are other chairs against the walls and
perhaps a few potted palms. From the left, offstage, the small orchestra
is playing a brisk march, as vigorously as its meagre equipment and
talents will allow._

        LUCHER (_to_ BREDZI)

There is too much of the Mozart. . . .

        BREDZI

No doubt, Frau Lucher.

        LUCHER

No doubt whatever. They will want waltzes, apassionata, until they get
drunk, and then they will want more waltzes. Sentimental ninnies! (_She
hands the programme back to_ BREDZI.) They will want to weep on each
others' shoulders. You understand?

        BREDZI

Perfectly, ma'am.

        LUCHER

Accompaniment for sobs--that's all that's expected of you. (_Her cigar
has gone out. A_ BUS-BOY _hastily strikes a match for her. She exhales a
cloud of smoke, then turns to_ STRUP.) Now, Strup, I'm ready for the
wines.

(STRUP _hands her the wine card_.)

        STRUP (_pridefully_)

I have arranged everything.

        LUCHER

Oh, have you! (_She scans the wine card with a practised eye._)
Champagne! Cliquot 1911! You are planning to serve that rabble Cliquot
1911?

        STRUP

It's the best we have, madam.

        LUCHER

And you're granting them the best!

        STRUP

It is a matter of tradition.

        LUCHER

So? You're putting tradition ahead of common sense, are you?

        STRUP (_fearfully_)

It isn't that, Frau Lucher, I only felt that . . .

        LUCHER (_slapping the table_)

The employees of this hotel will take their notions of tradition and of
everything else from me! (_She includes all of them in the same decisive
glare._) You will serve Tizane with the roast--a half bottle for each of
them. When they've guzzled that much, nothing but beer. Vienna beer, not
Muenchner.

        STRUP

Very good, ma'am.

        LUCHER

A sage observation, Herr Strup. . . . Now, all of you, remember this:
Courtesy, deference--treat them as if they were still lords of creation
and as if you expected heavy tips for your services, which, I promise
you, you won't get. All the old formalities, the old nonsense, from all
of you--until they start breaking the furniture--then, _a firm hand!_ If
you can't manage them by yourselves, send for me.

        STRUP

Yes, ma'am. We shall, ma'am.

        LUCHER

You will serve the aperitifs in here. That is all.

        STRUP

Yes, ma'am. To your posts, _march!_

(_The_ WAITERS _and_ BUS-BOYS _hurry out_. LUCHER_ turns her attention to
the men at the ladder_.)

        LUCHER

You! You have done enough fussing with the Emperor. Get that ladder out
of here.

(_Hastily, they fold up the ladder and depart. . . . A_ BELL-BOY
_appears in the large door at the right, ushering in_ POFFY, _now
wearing a once-resplendent uniform which reeks of moth-balls and
naphtha_.)

        BOY

Herr Povoromo!

        STRUP (_bowing low_)

Herr Baron.

        POFFY (_mildly astonished_)

What? Oh! I'm greatly obliged for the restoration of the title. (_He
bows to_ STRUP.)

        LUCHER

Are they beginning to arrive?

        POFFY

Yes--aperitifs are in order.

        STRUP

Yes, Herr Baron.

(BREDZI _and_ STRUP _go out at the left_. POFFY _advances jauntily
toward_ LUCHER.)

        POFFY

I came to see you about the final arrangements.

        LUCHER

The final arrangements are made.

(_The march music offstage stops._)

        POFFY

In particular reference to the wine . . .

        LUCHER (_consulting her list_)

With the soup, sherry--nine schillings. With the trout,
Grinzinger--seven schillings. With the roast, Tizane--nine schillings.

        POFFY (_shocked_)

Tizane! Is that the best that this superior establishment can afford?

        LUCHER

On this occasion, yes.

        POFFY

There will be complaints.

        LUCHER

You people are not paying for this affair. I am.

        POFFY

We are aware of that condition. Nevertheless--I must insist--there will
be complaints.

        LUCHER

Did that message you received say what time he would arrive?

        POFFY

I expected him on the afternoon train from Salzburg. But he was not on
it.

        LUCHER (_with a look at her watch_)

No. It is now half after eight.

        POFFY

There will be another train.

        LUCHER

Yes--and he won't be on that, either. It's just as I thought. They've
stopped him at the border. . . . Are there any unexpected arrivals?

        POFFY

No. Here's the complete list. Only eight names instead of the expected
thirty.

(POFFY _takes the list from his pocket_.)

        LUCHER

Let me see it.

(_He hands it to her_. . . . TORLINI, _the hotel's courier, enters from
the upper left, accompanied by an officer of police_.)

        TORLINI

Frau Lucher!

        LUCHER

Yes?

        TORLINI

The police, ma'am.

(LUCHER _is not in the least disturbed by this announcement. She is
examining critically the list of guests._)

        LUCHER (_to the_ POLICEMAN)

What do you want?

        POLICEMAN

The Herr Inspector thought it might be as well for me to have a look
around.

        LUCHER

Go ahead and look. You'll observe nothing of the slightest interest.

(_The_ POLICEMAN _nods and looks about the room, paying special
attention to the portrait of Franz Josef_.)

        POFFY

Surely, for only eight, you could afford Mot et Chandon, at the least.

        LUCHER

No. There's not one on this list with a palate left to his name. The
bottles of Tizane will be wrapped in napkins. No one will know the
difference.

        POFFY (_bowing_)

As you say, my dear hostess.

        LUCHER

Exactly as I say! (_She hands him back the list. The_ POLICEMAN _is at
the large door at the left._)

        POLICEMAN (_pointing off to the left_)

Will the reception be held in there?

        LUCHER

Yes. And it will be kept in there. (_The_ POLICEMAN _steps out at the
left_. LUCHER _speaks in an undertone to_ POFFY.) If he had arrived it
would have been different. I would have served the best. I'd even have
done it if she had consented to come. But for the rest of you, Tizane is
good enough.

        POFFY

She was right, of course. She'd have had a poor time.

        LUCHER

Yes. She was right. . . . But I'd like to have heard what the great
psychologist said to her after we left.

(_The_ POLICEMAN _has returned_.)

        POLICEMAN

Who is to be present at this function?

        POFFY

Here is the list. (_He hands the list to the_ POLICEMAN, _then turns to_
LUCHER.) And if he can find any cause for excitement in that group, then
perhaps it may be a good party, after all.

        POLICEMAN

Is this all?

        LUCHER

That is all, and as I informed the inspector--there'll be no one of the
slightest importance here to-night.

(_Having looked over the list, the_ POLICEMAN _sticks it in the large
note-book which he carries in a breast pocket_.)

        POLICEMAN

If you don't mind, I think I'll have a look at these guests of yours and
make certain that this list is correct.

        LUCHER

You're calling me a liar?

        POLICEMAN

No. I'm only being careful. (_He turns to the left and starts to go
out._)

        POFFY

Perhaps you'd like me to present them to you formally. (_He and the_
POLICEMAN _go out at the left_.)

        LUCHER

Torlini, give that policeman a drink.

        TORLINI

Yes, ma'am. (_He goes off at the left._ FRAU LUCHER _opens her hand-bag
and takes therefrom a note-book and gold pencil_. _She is leaning over
the little marble-topped table at the left, figuring out the cost of
this affair. The aged_ CHEF _rushes in from the right. He is in a state
of terrific perturbation, as is a_ WAITER, _who follows him_.)

        CHEF

Frau Lucher!

        LUCHER (_calmly_)

Well--what is it?

(_Her back is toward the_ CHEF _so that she does not see him bow low as
the_ ARCHDUKE RUDOLF MAXIMILLIAN _comes in from the right_. . . . RUDOLF
_is tall, lean, deliberately ominous, consciously mad--an ageless prince
who, despite the absurd inappropriateness of the Tyrolean costume that
he now wears, brings back with him into the Hotel Lucher the semblance
of imperial splendor which it had known when such outrageous beings as
he were lords of Vienna. . . . He is followed by a_ WAITER _and two_
BUS-BOYS, _who carry his cape, haversack, blanket roll and sword
holster. Even these_ BUS-BOYS, _who were infants when the House of
Habsburg fell--even they are awe-struck, trepidant in the presence of a
magnificence which they have been rigorously taught to scorn_. . . .
RUDOLF _crosses to_ LUCHER _and administers a loving whack to her ample
bottom_.)

        RUDOLF

Good evening, venerable strumpet.

(LUCHER _turns, stares at him, mutters some blasphemous exclamation of
dismay, curtseys involuntarily, then rushes to the doors at the left and
shuts them_. RUDOLF _follows her_.)

        RUDOLF

Still wearing the red flannel drawers? (_He lifts her skirts from
behind._) Thank God, there's something in Vienna that hasn't been
changed.

        LUCHER (_ferociously_)

How did you come here?

        RUDOLF

I came by various means of conveyance which I shall not describe in
detail. My entrance to the hotel was made through the kitchens--and
whatever appetite I may have had is now gone. You received no letter
from me?

        LUCHER

No.

        RUDOLF

Good! I wrote none. (_He strolls toward the right, pauses, and sniffs._)
There's the same nauseating stench of fish in this hotel. By God--I
believe it's the same _fish!_

        LUCHER

Do _they_ know?

        RUDOLF

Who are they?

        LUCHER

Poffy--Count von Stainz--Hoetzler . . .

        RUDOLF

Is it necessary for me to advise _them_ of my intentions? Is it?

        LUCHER

They will be startled.

        RUDOLF

As they should be! I will occupy the Imperial Suite . . .

        LUCHER

The Imperial Suite no longer exists.

        RUDOLF

Restore it!

        LUCHER (_to the_ BUS-BOYS)

Is that his luggage?

        BUS-BOYS (_eagerly_)

Yes, Frau Lucher. We were commanded to . . .

        CHEF

Yes, Frau Lucher. His Imperial Highness ordered that we take it to. . . .

        LUCHER

Put it in there. (_She indicates the door at the back. The_ CHEF
_motions to the two_ BOYS _who hustle out as directed_. _The_ WAITER
_goes with them_.) Do you happen to know that the police are in the
building?

        RUDOLF

_You!_ Were you addressing the chef?

        LUCHER (_grudgingly_)

Your Imperial Highness. . . . (_To the_ CHEF.) You may go.

(_The_ CHEF _starts to go out at the right_.)

        RUDOLF

Wait! (_The_ CHEF _stops, and bows_.) You recognized me, didn't you?

        CHEF (_pleased_)

Yes, Your Serene Highness. (_He bows again._)

        RUDOLF

You did _not_ recognize me. I am travelling incognito.

        CHEF (_bowing_)

Yes, Your Serene Highness. (_He goes out at the right._)

        LUCHER

If your memory were better, you would remember that _this_ was the
Imperial Suite.

        RUDOLF (_looking about the room_)

By God, it is! (_He sees the portrait of Franz Josef, salutes it, then
sits in the chair back of the table at the right and starts to take off
his shoes. The_ WAITER _comes out of the room at the back, followed by
the_ BUS-BOYS). I want some brandy.

        LUCHER

Brandy.

        WAITER (_bowing_)

At once, Your Serene Highness. (_He goes._ RUDOLF _is shaking some
pebbles from one of his shoes into an ash-tray on the table_.)

        RUDOLF

A cigarette.

        LUCHER

Cigarette!

(_One of the_ BUS-BOYS _places a cigarette between_ RUDOLF'S "_full,
rich lips_." _The other boy lights it._)

        BUS-BOYS (_bowing together_)

Your Serene Highness. (_They scurry out at the right._ RUDOLF _exhales a
huge cloud of smoke. Then he laughs._)

        RUDOLF

It's incredible! I believe that even the aged worms in your woodwork
recognize me, and are thrilled by my return. I don't blame them--after
all these years with nothing to do but sit back and watch themselves
decay. How have you managed to keep this decrepit establishment going?

        LUCHER

We have plenty of trade.

(_The_ WAITER _comes in with a tray on which is a bottle of brandy and
one enormous glass, which he puts on the table_.)

        RUDOLF

Loud-mouthed American tourists, I suppose.

        LUCHER

Yes! They flock here to ogle the scenes of your triumphs. (_She is
pouring a drink of brandy._)

        RUDOLF

Disgusting!

        LUCHER (_to the_ WAITER)

Tell Torlini I want to see him.

        WAITER

Yes, Frau Lucher. (_The_ WAITER _goes out at the left_.)

        RUDOLF

I find the whole aspect of this place depressing, and at the same time,
rather gratifying. . . .

        LUCHER (_interrupting him_)

Now, I wasn't joking when I warned you about the police. . . .

        RUDOLF (_through her speech_)

Will you please not talk when I'm speaking? Sit down! (_Under protest_,
LUCHER _has stopped talking and sits down across the table from him_.)
Does this city realize that it's hopelessly defunct? It is like a corpse
that twitches with the reflexes of life--a gruesome spectacle. I don't
envy you, Lucher, having to abide here among the remains. . . . I didn't
really mean that. I do envy you. (_He gulps some brandy._) They drained
the blood from Vienna when they removed us--and now observe the results!
Serves the swine right. (_Another gulp._)

        LUCHER

Do you wish to change your clothes?

        RUDOLF

Naturally, I don't intend to exhibit myself in this outlandish costume.

        LUCHER (_rising_)

Then you had better go in there, and _stay_ in there, till I can get rid
of the police.

        RUDOLF

Sit down! (_Subduing several choice oaths, she again sits._) Who is
here, besides Poffy and that senile incompetent, General Hoetzler?

        LUCHER

The Baroness von Krett, and Koeppke and his wife, and Talisz . . .

        RUDOLF

And Elena Vervesz. She is here, too.

        LUCHER

No.

        RUDOLF

She is late.

        LUCHER

She is not coming!

        RUDOLF

What? She is not in Vienna?

        LUCHER

Yes--but she has flatly refused to come!

        RUDOLF

Oh! She didn't know I would be here. . . . Married, isn't she?

        LUCHER

Yes. To a doctor--a very important doctor.

        RUDOLF

I have a distinct feeling that he will be called out to-night, to some
distant place--an emergency case. . . . Have you seen her lately?

        LUCHER

I went to her house to-day.

(_The orchestra starts offstage, playing the opening bars of "The Blue
Danube."_)

        RUDOLF

How is she? Old?

        LUCHER

No. (_Reminded by the music that the door is open, she rises and starts
over toward the left._)

        RUDOLF

Does she bulge? (LUCHER _does not answer_. _He roars._) Does she bulge?
(LUCHER _turns to him_.) Here? (_He indicates breasts._)

        LUCHER

No! (_She shuts the doors at the left, so that the music can now be
heard only faintly._)

        RUDOLF

Send for her.

        LUCHER

She will not come.

        RUDOLF

Tell her that her one true lover has condescended to be present.

        LUCHER

I tell you, _she will not come!_

        RUDOLF (_rising suddenly_)

And I am telling you that she _will_ come!

        LUCHER

She has a different life now . . .

        RUDOLF (_advancing_)

If by any chance she should not be here when I am ready . . . (_He takes
hold of her throat._) But you know the consequences--don't you, old
filthy? _You_ know! (_He laughs, gives her a playful shake, and kisses
her._)

        LUCHER (_through his kisses_)

There is something else in Vienna that is not changed. You! You are the
same maniac--like all your wretched family.

(RUDOLF _laughs, releases her, and walks over to the table at the
right_.)

        RUDOLF

No--not a maniac. It is only that I am constantly intoxicated with my
own charm. (_He starts to yodel. He picks up the bottle and glass, also
his green Tyrolean hat._) I want a valet. (_He puts on his hat and
crosses to_ LUCHER.) Tell Elena to take all the time she wants. I don't
approve of women who jump into their clothes like fire-horses. She must
make every possible effort to look alluring. (_He pinches her and
strolls off yodelling into the bedroom at the back. He starts to remove
his clothes._ LUCHER _nervously rushes up with unusual alacrity and
closes the doors after him. Then she crosses to the doors at the left,
opens them, and calls:_)

        LUCHER

Strup! (_The music is playing loudly._) _Strup!_

        STRUP (_from offstage_)

Yes, Frau Lucher. (_He hurries in._)

        LUCHER (_in measured tones_)

You will take the Tizane off the ice. We will serve champagne--Cliquot
1911.

        STRUP

What?

        LUCHER

Did you hear!

        STRUP (_astounded_)

The Cliquot 1911.

(LUCHER _crosses slowly to the table at the right_.)

        LUCHER

Yes, and there will be nine covers, instead of eight. Have them get
that big chair that's in the office--that gold chair.

(TORLINI _has appeared in the doorway, followed by the_ POLICEMAN,
_whom_ LUCHER _does not at first see_.)

        STRUP

Yes, ma'am. Nine covers.

(_Hearing this, the_ POLICEMAN _takes out his note-book and the list
of guests which_ POFFY _had given him_.)

        LUCHER

Put the gold chair at the head of the table. And I want caviar
served. . . .

        TORLINI

You sent for me, Frau Lucher?

        LUCHER

Yes, I did. (_She sees the_ POLICEMAN.) But it's . . .

        POLICEMAN

Nine covers? There are only eight here.

        LUCHER

I neglected to count myself. I am to attend the party.

        POLICEMAN

The gold chair will be for you?

        LUCHER

Why not? It's my hotel, isn't it? Go on, Strup, do as you're told.

(STRUP _goes out at the left_. LUCHER _goes close to_ TORLINI.)

        LUCHER

I want to send a message--(_The_ POLICEMAN _is evincing interest_.
LUCHER _is frantically attempting to signal to_ TORLINI _to get rid of
the_ POLICEMAN)--to the florist's. The flowers they sent are all wilted.
(_The_ POLICEMAN _is watching too closely_--LUCHER _goes over to him,
fire in her eye_.) And as for you--I'd be grateful if you'd go straight
to the Herr Inspector and tell him that I consider this intrusion by the
police an unpardonable outrage! Do you hear that?

        POLICEMAN

Yes--Frau Lucher. I hear. But surely you'll agree that the police must
be . . .

        LUCHER (_shouting_)

I'll agree to nothing! I've taken great pains to explain this whole
affair to the authorities and they assured me that there would be no
interference.

        POLICEMAN

I only know that I have been ordered to look in here, and . . .

        LUCHER

And you've obeyed your orders. (_She opens her hand-bag._) You've seen
everything and satisfied yourself that nothing harmful can come of this.
It's all ridiculous stupidity, typical of the brainless asses who
govern this city. (_She has fished some bills from her hand-bag._) Here,
my good man. (_She hands the money to him._) Now run along to the
inspector, and present to him my sincerest compliments. (_She pushes him
toward the door._)

        POLICEMAN

I will, Frau Lucher! (_He pockets the money._) And if he sends me back,
it won't be my fault.

        LUCHER

I know that. Go on. (_She pushes him out, then addresses_ TORLINI,
_rapidly, in a furious undertone_.) See that that policeman gets out of
the hotel. Then telephone to Dr. Anton Krug's house, and tell Frau Krug
that the worst has happened!

        TORLINI

The worst?

        LUCHER

She'll understand. Tell her to get into a car and drive out of Vienna
just as fast as she can.

        TORLINI

Yes, Frau Lucher. . . . But what about the florist?

        LUCHER (_at the top of her lungs_)

Great God! Never mind the florist!

(_The door at the back opens, and_ RUDOLF _appears wearing his shirt and
nothing else_.)

        RUDOLF

Where in hell is that valet?

        LUCHER

Get back in that room!

        TORLINI (_staring at_ RUDOLF)

It is impossible!

        LUCHER

I told you to stay in . . .

        RUDOLF

Is there such a thing as a valet in this brothel?

        LUCHER

Yes, he's coming right up.

        RUDOLF

Thank you, my sweet. (_He pinches her cheek._)

        TORLINI (_bowing low_)

Your Imperial Highness.

(RUDOLF _reaches out and lifts_ TORLINI'S _bowed head_.)

        RUDOLF

I do not remember who you are--nevertheless, good evening. (_He bows to_
TORLINI, _then turns and walks back with great dignity, albeit without
trousers, into his room_. LUCHER _slams the door behind him_.)

        LUCHER

Now do you know what I meant by the worst?

        TORLINI (_trembling_)

I do.

        LUCHER

Tell her he's here. . . . When he finds out she isn't in this hotel,
there'll be an uproar. He'll go after her. He'll break into her house,
and have a fight with her husband. If she wants to avoid a nasty scene,
she'll have to get herself out of the city, at once.

(_The_ COUNT _has come in from the left_. _He is carrying a cocktail
glass._ TORLINI _goes_.)

        COUNT

Now let me tell you something, Frau Lucher: I just happened to take a
look under the napkin in one of the ice buckets, and what did I see
there? Tizane--that's what I saw! Tizane--sparkling dishwater!

(LUCHER _has been gathering up the papers from the table and stuffing
them back into her hand-bag. She darts one look at the_ COUNT.)

        LUCHER

You're drunk already.

        COUNT

Oh, now, that isn't worthy of you, Lucher. It hasn't been easy for us to
come here, you know. If you had the heart to invite us here, I should
think you'd have the decency to furnish us with wine that is at least
potable.

(LUCHER, _however, has gone out at the right_. GISELLA VON KRETT _has
come in from the left_). _She was once one of the haughtier beauties of
the court. She is now a wasted, embittered governess, clinging grimly to
the sense of snobbery which is all that she managed to salvage from the
wreckage of the past. She is wearing an evening gown which was
fashionable in 1917._

        GISELLA

Well? Did you tell her we insisted on champagne?

        COUNT

Yes, but she didn't seem to hear me.

(GISELLA _sits down at the left_.)

        GISELLA

We should have known that this would happen. She dragged us here solely
to humiliate us for the satisfaction of her own vulgarian sense of
inferiority.

        COUNT

Ah, well, my dear Gisella--Tizane isn't really so unbearable. I mean to
say, after the first three glasses you hardly know what you're drinking.
I shall consume the first three glasses rapidly.

        HOETZLER (_from offstage_)

I hurled in the 19th army corps--or was it the 17th? (_He enters from
the left with_ SOPHIA KOEPPKE _on his arm_.) . . . And in another twelve
hours we'd have smashed the Russian line. (_He sees the_ COUNT.) Franz!

        COUNT

General Hoetzler!

(_They bow formally and shake hands. . . . The old_ GENERAL _is still
fat but obviously shrunken; he hasn't flesh enough left to fill his
skin_. _He wears a uniform coat, which is too large for him by many
years, but moths have deprived him of the trousers that go with it and
he is forced to wear a pair from his gray civilian suit. . . . In spite
of which, he is wilfully hearty, and determined to make this a gay and
care-free celebration_. . . . SOPHIA _is a faded blonde, buxom
and--unlike the others--too well fed, but still flagrantly girlish_.)

        HOETZLER

This is splendid, old boy.

        SOPHIA (_who has gone over to_ GISELLA)

My darling Gisella! How stunning you look!

        GISELLA (_without emotion_)

Good evening, Sophia.

        HOETZLER

Gisella! Smart, distinguished, entrancing as ever!

        SOPHIA

Now you must all be quiet, because dear General Hoetzler is telling me
the most thrilling story about the campaign in 1915.

        COUNT

Oh, yes, indeed--I remember it well. You had the Russians in a tight
corner--eh, General? Now do sit down, Sophia.

(_She sits down at the right. . . . Offended at this abrupt dismissal of
his favorite reminiscence, the_ GENERAL _makes an attempt to continue_.)

        HOETZLER

I was trying to explain to Sophia how curious it was that, at the very
moment of complete triumph . . .

(_But the_ COUNT _has his back turned_.)

        COUNT (_to_ SOPHIA)

I can't tell you what a delightful privilege it is to see a really
stylish woman again.

        SOPHIA (_giggling shrilly_)

Oh, Franz--you're much too gallant.

        COUNT

With provocation, my dear.

        SOPHIA

But Koeppke and I do try to keep up appearances, even in the hopelessly
middle-class atmosphere of Switzerland.

        COUNT

As Tatti and I do, in Upper Tooting. But it's an endless struggle.

        SOPHIA

Dreadful! People don't seem to understand the importance of those things
any more. There are so many false standards.

        COUNT

That's it! That's precisely it!

(_During all this_, HOETZLER _has sat down on the couch beside_ GISELLA,
_and is carrying on manfully with his narrative_.)

        HOETZLER

I was just telling Sophia of the time early in 1915 when we had the
Russians on the run. We were within _that_ of breaking through the
enemy's line; and they had no more than a corporal's guard in reserve.
You can readily imagine the consequences. We'd have marched on to
Petersburg, crushed the Russian Empire! But at the very moment when my
plan of campaign had reached a climax . . . (_By this time the_ COUNT
_has said "That's precisely it!" and has been compelled, by the
loudness of_ HOETZLER'S _voice, to turn to listen_.) I received a
telegram from Prince Max in Berlin telling me to withdraw! Now I ask
you, I ask all of you, what was I to do?

        COUNT

Withdraw.

        HOETZLER

Exactly. And the baffling part of it all is that that telegram from
Berlin has never been adequately explained. And I can tell you, my dear
Gisella . . .

        COUNTESS (_from offstage_)

They're all in here.

(_The_ COUNTESS _and_ TALISZ _come in, arm in arm. She is now wearing an
evening dress, of her own manufacture, and there is an ostrich plume or
so in her hair. . . ._ TALISZ _is very old, somewhat bemused and
slightly deaf. He is wearing a frayed swallow-tail coat, lustreless,
black satin knee breeches, and black cotton stockings borrowed from his
landlady. . . . There are general greetings, all very formal, very
courtly._)

        COUNTESS

Gisella! Sophia! Well!

        SOPHIA

Well!

        GISELLA (_acidly_)

The General is telling us about a telegram from Berlin.

        HOETZLER

I was merely explaining that there was a certain faction in Prussia
headed by Hindenburg that did not wish Austria to achieve . . .

        TALISZ (_to_ SOPHIA)

And where is Koeppke? I don't see him. Isn't he to be with us?

(_The_ COUNTESS _takes his arm and indicates that he has interrupted
the_ GENERAL.)

        HOETZLER (_giving_ TALISZ _an angry look_)

There can be no question of doubt that Hindenburg was jealous of the
inevitable result of my coup. He knew my victory would destroy the
Russian power and Austria would gain the credit for having won the war.

        TALISZ (_who doesn't quite know what's happening_)

Is His Imperial Highness here yet?

        SOPHIA

No. Poffy's out now trying to find out if there's any word of him.

        TALISZ

I beg your pardon?

        COUNTESS (_distinctly, in his ear_)

She said: "Poffy's out now trying to find out if there's any word of
him."

        TALISZ

Oh, yes, I knew that. I felt sure he'd come.

        HOETZLER

Hindenburg, of course, was a Prussian of the Prussians--contemptuous of
Austria, determined to . . .

        TALISZ

What's the General saying?

        COUNTESS

Something about the war.

        TALISZ

Oh! Too bad. (_He moves away. . . . Nettled by the frequent
interruptions_, HOETZLER _makes a supreme attempt to complete his
story_.)

        HOETZLER

I knew it at the time, but my obligations as a soldier to our allies
compelled me to silence. Hindenburg blocked my plans and then
deliberately stole them! Stole them--and used them himself in the
Masurian Lakes region! That, my friends, is the true explanation of . . .

(POFFY _enters. The_ COUNT, COUNTESS _and_ SOPHIA _rush over to question
him_.)

        SOPHIA

Poffy, is there any news?

        COUNT

What about Rudolf? Is he coming?

        POFFY

No. The last train from Salzburg is in, but he wasn't on it.

        COUNTESS

Oh! I can't bear to think they've caught him. (_She is apparently on the
verge of tears, her favorite perch._)

        SOPHIA

He must come. He _must!_

        POFFY

Of course with Rudolf there is always hope.

        HOETZLER

Of course there is hope. Rudolf was always late. Do you remember the
time, my dear Gisella, when the Emperor was holding a reception for King
Edward VII?

        GISELLA

No.

(STRUP _has come in, followed by two_ WAITERS _with trays loaded with
glasses of tepid vermouth_.)

        STRUP (_speaking through_ HOETZLER'S _lines_)

Herr Baron, the aperitifs!

        POFFY

By all means proceed with them.

        STRUP

Thank you, Herr Baron.

(_The service of the aperitifs proceeds, under Strup's benign
supervision, while_ HOETZLER _continues with his reminiscence about the
reception for King Edward VII._)

        HOETZLER (_taking_ GISELLA'S _"No" as cue_)

Matters of the utmost importance were at stake, and the Emperor had
commanded all the members of the royal family to be most punctual. And
of course they all were--with one exception. . . . (_The_ WAITER
_offers_ HOETZLER _a drink, which he takes, and then continues:_) With
one exception--Rudolf. He was a mere stripling then, but even so, he
kept the King of England waiting for two hours while he . . .

(_The_ VALET _has come in from the right and gone up to the bedroom
door. He knocks._)

        RUDOLF (_from within_)

Come in.

        HOETZLER

Who's in that room?

        SOPHIA (_archly_)

Now--now, General!

        HOETZLER

But if there's anybody spying on us . . .

        POFFY

He'll be bitterly disappointed. Now if you will all be good enough to
rise. (_They all rise._ POFFY _turns and lifts his glass to the portrait
of Franz Josef_.) To His Imperial Majesty!

(_They all drink and then give silent, facial testimony to the low
quality of the vermouth. . . . The oppressive silence is broken by the
entrance from the left of_ KOEPPKE, _a brisk, obtrusive little man who,
like his wife_, SOPHIA, _is too well nourished_.)

        KOEPPKE (_breezily_)

Well, here I am!

        SOPHIA

You're late.

        KOEPPKE

Yes, my love. (_He looks about._) Is the party in full swing?

        GISELLA

It is.

        POFFY

Oh, come--let's go in to dinner.

        GISELLA

I've lost my appetite. That loathsome vermouth . . .

        POFFY

I know, my dear Gisella, you're accustomed to the best in Palermo. As
for the rest of us, we have come here to conduct a celebration. It is
going to be a difficult task, but I strongly urge that we all smother
our justifiable grievances and pretend to be having a very devil of an
uproarious carousal. Let us close our eyes to the fact that we all look
a bit moth-eaten and concentrate on getting through this with a show of
good grace.

(_The_ COUNT _starts to sing: "Vilya, oh, Vilya, the witch of the
wood."_)

        GISELLA

We're not going to be very uproarious on Tizane.

        HOETZLER

I beg of you, Gisella, be quiet.

        SOPHIA (_referring to the_ COUNT'S _song_)

That's a cheerful selection!

        GISELLA (_to_ POFFY)

If you'd only taken the trouble to let us know what it would be like . . .

        COUNTESS

It wasn't Poffy's fault.

        KOEPPKE

Personally I'm in favor of abandoning the whole thing.

(_The_ COUNTESS _has started to weep_. SOPHIA _is trying to calm her.
The_ COUNT _is slumped in a chair at the left, still singing "Vilya."_
GISELLA _is seated at the right, regarding the_ COUNTESS _with
disgust_. HOETZLER _and_ TALISZ _are behind her_. POFFY _has gone out at
the left to beg the musicians for God's sake to play something lively_.
KOEPPKE _is hovering over the couch, patronizing the_ COUNTESS. _The
following speeches are delivered in a jumble:_)

{         SOPHIA
{
{ I wish to heaven you'd all listen to Poffy. At least we can pre_tend_
{ to be gay and--and jolly. . . . Now, please, Tatti, you won't help
{ matters at all by crying your eyes out . . .
{
{         HOETZLER
{
{ Perhaps if Lucher would give us some really good beer it might take
{ effect more quickly.
{
{         TALISZ (_to_ HOETZLER)
{
{ What's everybody saying now?
{
{         KOEPPKE (_to the_ COUNTESS _and_ SOPHIA)
{
{ I'll tell you what. How about the three of us slipping down to the bar
{ and having a few brandies? Just the three of us. Oh, don't worry--_I_
{ can pay for them. I've over a hundred and fifty real marks in my pocket
{ at this moment!

(ELENA _has entered on the cue from_ TALISZ: _"What's everybody saying
now?" She comes down from the upper right, so that_ TALISZ _and_
HOETZLER _see her first_.)

        ELENA

Talisz! I did so hope you'd be here. And the dear General. How sweet it
is to see you.

        TALISZ

Elena! Elena! (_He kisses her hand._)

        HOETZLER

Elena, is it _you?_

(POFFY _has come back; he sees_ ELENA, _and fairly whoops for joy_.)

        POFFY

Elena!

(_The others are now aware of her presence. They cease their chattering,
weeping and singing, and form a hilarious, welcoming group about her._)

        ELENA

Tatti! You should have _known_. I couldn't keep away. And Sophia! How
charming you look! And Koeppke! I can't be_lieve_ it! Hello,
Franz--_you_ knew I'd be here, didn't you!

        COUNT

A good joke on us! A capital joke! Just like you, Elena. Bring some more
drinks. Herr Ober! Herr Ober! (_The_ COUNT _rushes out at the left_.)

        HOETZLER

Where's that blackguard gone with the aperitifs?

        ELENA

And here's Gisella. How are you, my darling? You're looking so chic, so
exactly like yourself.

        GISELLA

They told me you weren't coming.

        COUNTESS

She wanted to surprise us--to make it all the better.

        KOEPPKE

And that's what she's done.

        ELENA

I changed my mind for no reason except a selfish one. I wanted to see
all of you--and hear you laugh and joke.

(_A veritable orgy of ad-libbing is interrupted when the_ COUNT _appears
in the doorway at the left_.)

        COUNT (_shouting_)

Come in to dinner! They're serving _champagne!_

        SOPHIA

What?

        COUNT

Cliquot 1911! And caviar!

(_The_ COUNT'S _announcement is greeted with cheers_. POFFY'S _request
for lively music has been fulfilled by the orchestra offstage. There is
a general movement toward the left._)

        HOETZLER (_offering_ ELENA _his arm_)

With your permission, I think I take the precedence.

(ELENA _takes the_ GENERAL'S _arm and goes out at the left, followed by_
KOEPPKE _and the_ COUNTESS, POFFY _and_ GISELLA, TALISZ _and_ SOPHIA.
_Just as_ ELENA _reaches the door_, LUCHER _enters from the right and
rushes across after them shouting:_)

        LUCHER

Frau Krug! Frau Krug! Did you get my message?

(_Her voice is lost in the din of laughter, talk and music. . . ._ ELENA
_goes out_. LUCHER _is going after her, but she stops when cries for
"Help!" are heard from the bedroom at the back. The bedroom door flies
open and the_ VALET _hurtles out, propelled by_ RUDOLF, _who is now
magnificent in his uniform_. . . . LUCHER _hastily shuts the doors at
the left_.)

        VALET

Frau Lucher! He threatened to strangle me!

        RUDOLF

Do you mean to tell me that that stable-boy is dignified with the title
of valet?

        VALET (_terrified_)

I was only trying to brush Your Highness's hair.

        RUDOLF

He scratched my ear. (RUDOLF _slaps the_ VALET, _who rushes out at the
right_. RUDOLF _starts to fasten on his golden sash_.)

        LUCHER

You're to stay in that room until I tell you it's safe to . . .

        RUDOLF

Is she here?

(TORLINI _comes in from the upper left_.)

        LUCHER (_to_ RUDOLF)

I told you she wouldn't come!

        TORLINI

They informed me that she had already left her house, on the way
here. . . .

        RUDOLF (_turning, to_ LUCHER)

Ah! Then she has arrived?

        LUCHER

I've warned you that the police are on the watch . . .

        RUDOLF

She's here, isn't she?

        LUCHER

No! (_He tweaks her nose._) Yes!

        RUDOLF

Good! You have acted with unexpected competence. Bring her to me.

        LUCHER

But they have just sat down to supper. You should join them.

        RUDOLF

Bring her here! And champagne with her. I shall not be hungry for
another forty-three minutes. (_He crosses to the right to examine
himself in the mirror._)

        LUCHER (_to_ TORLINI)

Request Frau Krug to come here for a moment.

(TORLINI _goes out at the left_.)

        RUDOLF

Frau Krug?

        LUCHER

That is her name! (RUDOLF _turns again to the mirror, with an expression
of disgust_.) You'd better be careful how you talk to her.

        RUDOLF

You may now depart, Lucher.

        LUCHER

She isn't the same one you used to make free with. Her husband is a very
fine man--a big man, too, and . . .

(RUDOLF _steps up on a chair, the better to see the reflection of his
sash in the mirror_.)

        RUDOLF

I shall want some champagne--and also more cognac . . .

        LUCHER

I tell you--you'd better not try any of your old tricks on her. She's
different.

(_The doors at the left are opened._ ELENA _appears, looking backward_.)

        COUNTESS (_from offstage_)

But, my little angel, you're not going?

        ELENA

No, no, Tatti, don't you worry, I'll be right back.

        COUNT

Immediately----

        ELENA

Yes, immediately. (_She turns and sees_ RUDOLF _on the chair, his back
to her_.)

        RUDOLF

And one other thing: the towels in my bathroom are soggy. Have them
changed. . . . Get out, Lucher!

(LUCHER _darts one glance of commiseration at_ ELENA, _folds her hands
over her protuberant stomach, and goes out at the right_. ELENA _stares
at_ RUDOLF'S _back. He gazes at her image in the mirror. . . . After a
few moments, he steps down from the chair, turns and confronts her. . . .
The doors at the left have been closed, but the strains of a waltz are
faintly audible. . . ._ RUDOLF _starts toward her, pauses, then walks
around her_. ELENA _does not move, but her eyes follow him. . . . He is
behind her. He reaches out to touch her, but doesn't touch her. He walks
around, in front of her, stares at her, then slaps her face. He seizes
her in his arms and kisses her, fiercely. . . . A_ WAITER _has come from
the right with a bottle of cognac and glasses, followed by a_ BUS-BOY
_with an ice bucket containing a bottle of champagne. They deposit these
at the right, gaping at_ RUDOLF _and_ ELENA _as they do so_.)

        RUDOLF

How long has it been since you were kissed like that? Ten years? More
than ten years! Think of it! (_The_ WAITER _makes a slight clatter as he
arranges the glasses on the table_. . . . RUDOLF, _still holding_ ELENA
_tightly, motions behind his back to the_ WAITER _to get out. He does
so, followed by the_ BUS-BOY. RUDOLF _kisses_ ELENA _more gently_.)
Come--we'll have a drink! (_He steps aside, motions her to the table.
She crosses slowly and sits down. He goes behind the table and fills
each of the glasses with equal quantities of brandy and champagne._)

        ELENA

You know--I realize now how completely I had forgotten you.

        RUDOLF

Yes--it's too bad. We're not equipped with the power to recall
sensations. One of our Creator's more serious mistakes. . . .
However--to-night we will both refresh our memories. (_He raises his
glass, toasting her, then drains it. She raises her glass, slightly,
then places it on the table, untouched._) That's a very graceful
tribute, Elena. I'm referring to the necklace. But--good God! That
wedding ring! (_He laughs boisterously and seizes her hand for closer
inspection of the ring._)

        ELENA

That's nothing to laugh at. (_She is trying to pull her hand away, but
he has a tight grip on her wrist._)

        RUDOLF

Of all the bourgeois adornments! On you, it is a gross anachronism. Like
a brassiere on the Venus de Milo. It offends me. We must remove it. (_He
snatches the ring from her finger._)

        ELENA

Give it _back_ to me!

        RUDOLF

I told you it offends me.

        ELENA (_struggling_)

Are you going to give me back my ring?

        RUDOLF

Yes, my darling--I'll give it back, cheerfully, in the morning. But in
the meantime--well--surely, you can understand my point. That heavy gold
band on your finger would strike a discordant note.

        ELENA

I'm not planning to be in communication with you to-morrow morning. I
want it now! (_She snatches for it._)

        RUDOLF (_pocketing the ring_)

I must ask you to be careful, Elena. Refrain from irritating me. You
will recall that the members of my family are subject to epileptic
rages--sheer exuberance, you know--which invariably result in one form
or another of physical violence. . . . I should not care to send you
back to your husband with your lovely nose broken, and minus one or two
conspicuous teeth. . . .

        ELENA (_staring at him_)

It can't be true!

        RUDOLF

On the contrary, I can assure you that one more allusion to that
detestable ring will prove that it _is_ true. . . .

        ELENA

I wasn't thinking about that. I was thinking of what ten years have
failed to do to you.

        RUDOLF

I chose to remain as I was.

        ELENA

Ten years of exile, and humiliation, and poverty, haven't shaken in you
the conviction that Franz Josef is still reigning in Schnbrunn.

        RUDOLF

No--I admit that I have occasional qualms. There are moments when I
suspect that the Habsburgs are not what they once were. But when I see
you, my eternally beloved, and realize that you have had the pride to
preserve your figure against the day of my return--then I know that
there has been no revolution. (_He has sat down on the table, and is
leaning over her, his face increasingly close to hers._)

        ELENA

Don't come near me.

        RUDOLF

You don't wish to be kissed?

        ELENA

I do not!

        RUDOLF

Very well--if you feel that you need the inspiration of a little more
champagne, you shall have it. . . . (_He goes to pour out another glass
for her, but finds that she has had none. He empties her glass into the
ice bucket, and refills it. He then hands it to her. She places it on
the table. He pours out more for himself._)

        ELENA (_rising_)

We must go in there and join the others.

        RUDOLF (_pouring_)

We must do nothing of the kind.

        ELENA

I came here to-night to be with them . . .

        RUDOLF

Whereas I came here to be with you. Those pitiful relics are of no
interest whatever to me. . . . Come now--drink!

        ELENA

I'm going in there.

(_He steps in front of her._)

        RUDOLF

No, you're not.

        ELENA

Get out of my way. (_He laughs and gulps some more champagne, but does
not budge. She softens her tone to one of persuasion._) Oh, Rudolf--I'll
tell them you're here. It's all that's needed to send the poor things
into a complete state of delirium. Think of the excitement when they see
you looking as young as ever, and as handsome, in your lovely uniform,
with all the medals. Think how pleased _he'd_ be (_pointing to the
portrait_) if he knew that a Habsburg was again holding court in Vienna.

        RUDOLF (_with a glance at the portrait_)

Very well--I'll show myself to them--for his sake. (_He kisses her
lightly on the forehead, then crosses to the left and tries the door. It
is locked. He turns to_ ELENA, _delighted_.) Lucher's had us locked
in--the tactful old bawd. (_He pounds on the door. It is opened. The
guests at the banquet offstage are making a great deal of noise,
indicative of well-bred hilarity._ _The voice of_ STRUP _is heard to
call out: "His Imperial Highness!"_ RUDOLF _stands in the doorway. The
shouts and murmurs stop as each of the guests sees him._ BREDZI'S
_little orchestra strikes up the old national anthem_. RUDOLF _turns and
glances at_ ELENA. _She points to the portrait of the late Emperor, and
he goes up and takes a position beneath it._ POFFY _comes in and bows
low. The others follow him, the ladies going up to him to kiss his
hand._ RUDOLF _greets each of them by name. He is impassive, regal,
mildly disdainful--just as they want him to be. The_ COUNTESS _begins to
sob_.)

        RUDOLF

That is enough--enough! (_He waves them out._) I may join you later in
the evening.

(_They all back out. From offstage, the_ COUNT _is heard to shout: "To
His Imperial Highness."_ ELENA _lifts her untouched glass of champagne
and sips_. _There are sounds of shattered glasses from the left. The
doors are closed, subduing the uproar of cheers._)

        RUDOLF

Why are they all so old? (_He gazes toward the left, despondently, then
suddenly decides to give this depressing matter not another thought._
_He turns to_ ELENA.) Well? Have I or have I not done my duty? (_He
comes down to the table._) Sit down, if you please. (_She sits down at
the right of the table. He leans over and kisses her hair._) Now! I
suggest that we discuss briefly your husband, before we pass on to more
mutually agreeable subjects. . . . Do you love him?

        ELENA

Very much.

        RUDOLF

I have no objection to that. . . . He's a doctor, isn't he?

        ELENA

A psychoanalyst.

        RUDOLF

Ah! A practitioner of Vienna's sole remaining industry. . . . I've been
told he's quite brilliant. Written a book, hasn't he?

        ELENA

Yes--eight volumes.

        RUDOLF

I must meet him and let him study me. He could derive enough material
for eight volumes more.

        ELENA

He knows all about you already.

        RUDOLF

Ah--you've told him!

        ELENA

Yes. You'll find your type analyzed in one of his books under the
heading, "Elephantiasis of the Ego."

        RUDOLF

I doubt that I'd be interested. (_He sits down at the left of the
table._) Have you any children?

        ELENA

No.

        RUDOLF

I extend my condolences. (_He lifts his glass as in a toast. She bows
slightly in acknowledgment._) These purely intellectual husbands are not
very productive, are they?

        ELENA

It isn't his fault that there are no children. It's my fault. . . . Are
there any more questions?

        RUDOLF

Let me see . . . No--I think there aren't. We can dismiss the dreary
topic of your domestic life--and press on to consideration of my own.
But I suppose you know all about it.

        ELENA

No, Rudolf. I have not followed your later career very closely.

        RUDOLF

No?

        ELENA

No. How have you supported yourself?

        RUDOLF

In various ways. Now and then a good run at baccarat. One or two
engagements in the cinema studios--did you see me in "The Shattered
Idol"?

        ELENA

No, I missed that, deliberately.

        RUDOLF

You did well. As it turned out, I was virtually invisible. Then I
conceived a great scheme for mulcting American tourists, but the
authorities got wind of it, and took over the idea themselves. There
have been other occupations.

        ELENA

Some one told me you've been running a taxi.

        RUDOLF

Merely an amusing whim. I've only driven people I know.

        ELENA

And if you don't know them when you start the drive, you do before it's
finished.

        RUDOLF (_laughing_)

You've evidently been listening to gossip.

        ELENA

Yes. I've heard how charming you are to your fares. You must have
collected many delightful friends that way.

        RUDOLF (_wistfully_)

Friends? You can hardly call them that.

        ELENA

No--I suppose not.

        RUDOLF

As a matter of fact, Elena, Nice is a bore. I have been very lonely.

        ELENA

I've been waiting for you to say that.

        RUDOLF

You have no sympathy for me?

        ELENA

No.

        RUDOLF

Your heart wasn't always cold.

        ELENA

You have never been lonely--never deserved one atom of sympathy, from
any one.

        RUDOLF

You don't understand me. No one has ever understood me. It's because I'm
inscrutable.

        ELENA

Perhaps. But I remain unimpressed by your appeal for pity.

        RUDOLF

_Pity!_ Have you the effrontery to suggest that I want you to pity me?

        ELENA

Yes!

        RUDOLF

I see. . . . Then I shall abandon that tack. (_He laughs._) Elena--it
has always seemed miraculous to me that any one could be as intelligent
as you are and still alluring. And you _are_ alluring!

        ELENA (_bowing_)

You're overwhelmingly kind.

        RUDOLF

Oh--that wasn't intended as a tribute to you. It's a tribute to my own
flawless taste.

        ELENA

Ah! I see.

        RUDOLF

I'm proud to think that it was I who first realized you, for the sight
of you now assures me that, by God, I was right. . . . You're so
beautiful, Elena. You delight me! You refresh me--and I am speaking
nothing less than the truth when I tell you that refreshment is what I
most urgently need.

        ELENA

What tack are you off on now?

        RUDOLF

None. I am driving straight to the point. . . . My room is in there.

        ELENA

How convenient!

        RUDOLF

Yes. It's a room that we have occupied before.

        ELENA

I suppose we've occupied all of them.

        RUDOLF

We have, indeed, my darling. We have made history in this hotel.
Come--let us make some more.

        ELENA (_pause_)

Rudolf . . .

        RUDOLF

Yes?

        ELENA

I think it's time for me to announce that I'm not going to bed with you.

        RUDOLF (_after a while_)

Very well. (_He stands up, as though accepting her rejection, and walks
away. Drink in hand, he turns and looks at her._) I can wait (_he sips
the drink_) . . . a few minutes. (_He looks toward the left._) Who's
playing in there?

        ELENA

Bredzi.

        RUDOLF (_pleased_)

Bredzi! (_He goes to the left and calls "Bredzi! Bredzi!" The doors are
opened and_ BREDZI _comes in, with his violin_. _He is in a fever of
excitement, and knows precisely what is expected of him._ _Following him
is_ JANSEI, _an accordion player, similarly thrilled by this summons_.)
A waltz! (_With appropriate flourishes, they start to play "Viennese
Beauties."_ RUDOLF _turns and crosses to the table where_ ELENA _is
sitting. The musicians follow him, playing as they go._ RUDOLF _bows
before_ ELENA. _Laughing, she rises and curtseys, and then they start to
waltz around the room. The tempo is sprightly, exuberant. . . ._ RUDOLF
_manages to manoeuvre_ ELENA _to the bedroom door. He kicks it open and
they waltz into the room and disappear. The musicians whisper to each
other happily--for this is just as it should be. . . . However, after a
moment_, ELENA _comes out alone, laughing_. RUDOLF _follows. She sits on
the couch._) You know--I'm being admirably patient with you.

        ELENA (_still laughing_)

Yes, Rudolf--I know.

        RUDOLF

Because I understand you, too well. I can read your thoughts.

        ELENA

No!

        RUDOLF

I can see that as a result of your purely spiritual marriage you have
developed a certain reluctance, which it is for me to overcome. Very
well! I accept the challenge confidently! (_He has a drink of champagne,
then turns to_ BREDZI.) Play something more--more. . . . (BREDZI
_understands, and obliges with a palpitantly passionate selection_. _For
a moment_ RUDOLF _stands, silently regarding_ ELENA.) Does that remind
you of anything?

        ELENA

Yes.

        RUDOLF

What?

        ELENA

Ischl!

(RUDOLF _crosses to the couch and lies down beside her_. _Knowing all
the moves in this game_, BREDZI _goes close to_ ELENA _and plays softly,
persuasively_.)

        RUDOLF

Ischl! Do you remember one night when it was too warm to stay indoors?

        ELENA

Yes, we went out into the forest, and you took along an entire symphony
orchestra to accompany us.

        RUDOLF

I always adored music.

        ELENA

And you had all the musicians blindfolded. The poor things. They
couldn't play in harmony because they couldn't see.

        RUDOLF

It was dreadful!

        ELENA

And you cursed the leader horribly--and beat him with your cane.

        RUDOLF

And when you tried to stop me, I knocked you down.

        ELENA

Then you dismissed the orchestra--and we went on with our romance.

        RUDOLF

Oh God, what beautiful times! (ELENA _is now lying back on the couch,
languorously_. RUDOLF _kisses the hollow of her throat. Then it occurs
to him to kiss her ankle._ BREDZI _feels that it is time to shift the
tune. . . . Raising up on his elbow_, RUDOLF _suddenly signals the
musicians to be quiet_.) Do you imagine that I need any artificial
stimulation from you. Get out! (_They hurry out at the left, closing the
door after them._ RUDOLF _stands up_.) It's no use bantering this way
and that about it, Elena. I know now if I didn't know before that I have
never loved any woman as I love you. When I see you I know that I've
never loved any one else at all. You were, you are and ever will be the
one passion of my life. . . . Now! Glow with justifiable pride.

        ELENA

I am glowing. . . . What other women have you known since then?

        RUDOLF

Plenty. All kinds.

        ELENA

All colors?

        RUDOLF

All shades. There have been French women, English women, Americans. I've
had a few tempting offers of marriage, but . . . Then there have been
Russians, Moroccans, Siamese . . .

        ELENA

Twins?

        RUDOLF

No, unfortunately. But I can swear to you, Elena, that all of them were
no more than incidents. Whatever enjoyment I've had from them--and I'll
be generous and admit that there has been some enjoyment--has been
vicarious. Every quivering one of them has been no more than a proxy for
you. Ah, Elena--if you could know how I've clung to you, how I've
cherished you. Memory has been kind to me, my darling. It has kept you
with me, through all the nights and days. (_He is again on the couch, at
her side. She jumps to her feet, walks quickly away. There is a nervous
irritability in her voice._)

        ELENA

It has been otherwise with me!

        RUDOLF

What do you mean?

        ELENA

Memory has been kinder to me. It has discreetly withdrawn . . .

        RUDOLF

Behind the curtains of your imagination--but it is still there, alive
and warm, aching to emerge.

        ELENA

No, it is dead!

        RUDOLF

I refuse to accept that, sight unseen.

        ELENA

I have looked behind the curtains and seen it. It is decayed and
loathsome.

        RUDOLF

You're talking nonsense from your husband's books.

        ELENA

I'm talking truth--bitter truth, for you, perhaps.

        RUDOLF

I don't believe it.

        ELENA

Because you will not face the one important fact.

        RUDOLF

Which is what?

        ELENA

I am happy with my husband. (_He laughs._) I love him!

        RUDOLF

You will notice that I am laughing.

        ELENA

And you may notice that I am not going to bed with you.

        RUDOLF

Elena! Will you tell me that never once while you've been enduring the
physical intimacies of this great thinker, never once have you shut
your eyes and assured yourself, "It's Rudolf Maximillian."

        ELENA

Not in years have I thought of that.

        RUDOLF

But there were times at first, weren't there? Many times?

        ELENA

There may have been.

        RUDOLF

I thought so--and they became less frequent as the years went by--not
because you were learning to be happy with him, but because you were
learning to be resigned. You see--I know something about your
psychology, too. Now, come--we've had enough of debate. It's time for a
little emotion. We'll see if we've forgotten what life tastes like.

        ELENA (_indicating the door at the left_)

I'm going back in there.

        RUDOLF

You are not! (_He seizes her wrist and pulls her against him, then holds
her tightly in his arms._) You are now expected to shriek.

        ELENA

I shall not shriek.

        RUDOLF

Forgive me. I had forgotten that you are not the shrieking kind. That
was always one of your most engaging qualities, Elena. You invariably
knew when you were beaten. (_He kisses her several times, on her eyes,
ears, nose and throat. She offers no apparent resistance and no
response._) Ah, Elena, my only darling--it isn't easy for you to yield,
is it? You keep on thinking of that wedding ring in my pocket. You're
loyal to him, because you have the courage to be decent. You were always
loyal, always brave. But with me, it isn't as it would be with any one
else. Can't you see that? I loved you first. And you loved me. You
weren't lying when you said you loved me. You never knew how to lie. And
I'm only asking you to love me again, for a little while, reminiscently,
not as a rival of your husband, but as the echo of a voice that
enchanted you when you were innocent and impressionable and young. You
can't tell me that those things have changed. I can see that they
haven't. You have not grown old. The warmth is still in you. You can
still make me adore you, and I can still make you love me! (_He sits
down on the couch, still holding her tightly as she stands before him._)
Why not admit it, Elena? Why maintain that formidable rigidity, as
though you were a pure-minded school girl in the clutches of an avid
gorilla? Relax, my darling. Let yourself go. (_She has begun to laugh._)
Have I happened to say something witty? (ELENA _continues to laugh_.)
There is something in the quality of that laughter which suggests that
I'm wasting my time wooing you.

        ELENA

You told me to let myself go!

        RUDOLF

I did, but it was not intended as a pleasantry. (_He is seated on the
couch. She is standing over him. Suddenly, she seizes his face and
kisses him as ferociously as he had kissed her._) Great God, Elena, I
didn't expect . . .

        ELENA (_passionately_)

No, you didn't expect me to take your advice so quickly. (_She slaps his
face._) Did you? You thought I'd keep up the pretense of frigidity
forever, didn't you? (_She kisses him again. As she does so, he pulls
her down on to the couch. She rolls over him._) Am I frozen now?

        RUDOLF

No, there's been an unaccountable thaw.

(_She kisses him again._)

        ELENA

Am I restraining myself now? Am I being subdued, repressed, coldly
unresponsive? Am I? (_She slaps him again._)

        RUDOLF

No! But for God's sake, Elena--there is such a thing as going too far.

        ELENA

No, there isn't. Let's open the doors.

        RUDOLF

No.

        ELENA

Yes! I want them to see that I haven't changed, that there are some
things that can never change. (_She goes to the doors, flings them open,
and shouts "Come on--come on!"_ POFFY, GISELLA _and the rest come in,
laughing, shouting_. BREDZI _and_ JANSEI _are with them, playing "The
Merry Widow" waltz_.)

        RUDOLF (_through the happy din_)

Look at her! Look at her! She has been hitting me--hitting me with all
the old strength! Show them how you did it, my darling! (_She slaps him
again. He kisses her gratefully. Then he picks her up in his arms and
waltzes her into the bedroom_. . . . KOEPPKE _rushes after them and
smirkingly closes the door. The others cheer lustily and wave their
champagne glasses._)

        TALISZ

I give them both happiness!

        SOPHIA

Happiness--and love!

        POFFY

May the night last forever! (_He is standing on the sofa, singing,
while_ BREDZI _plays softly_. _The_ COUNTESS _crosses to the_ COUNT,
_who kisses her_.)

        COUNTESS

This is the most enchanting moment of my life.

(HOETZLER _bows to_ GISELLA, _who curtsies, and they begin to waltz_.
SOPHIA _goes to the couch_.)

        SOPHIA (_transported_)

It is the same Vienna--the same exquisite Vienna. . . .

        COUNT

Just as it always was! Nothing has changed.

        COUNTESS

I don't care if I die to-morrow. I really don't care at all.

(LUCHER _bustles in, terribly perturbed_.)

        LUCHER (_to_ HOETZLER)

Hush! Where has he gone? (_Waltzing with_ GISELLA, _the_ GENERAL
_ignores_ LUCHER, _who dashes to the left and shouts at_ KOEPPKE.) Where
is he?

        KOEPPKE

We don't wish to be disturbed now.

        TALISZ

What is she saying?

        LUCHER (_thundering_)

Bredzi! Stop!

(_The music stops._ POFFY, _still standing on the couch and singing,
turns to_ LUCHER.)

        POFFY (_sublimely unworried_)

Is there anything the matter?

        LUCHER

Herr Povoromo! Get down off that brocade! (POFFY _descends. They all
laugh._) The police are here! They've heard this racket and one of the
bottles you threw hit somebody in the street.

(_Gleeful cheers hail this gratifying news._)

        KOEPPKE (_archly_)

They'll hear no uproar from the arch-ducal chamber.

        LUCHER

Where has he gone? And Frau Krug? What's he done with her?

        SOPHIA

We haven't the faintest idea.

(_They all laugh._)

        COUNT

Resume the music, Bredzi.

(_The general, mildly intoxicated laughter is interrupted by the sound
of sharp knocking from within the bedroom._)

        HOETZLER

What is that?

        RUDOLF (_offstage_)

Elena! Elena!

(_More pounding is heard._ LUCHER _starts up to the door_. HOETZLER,
SOPHIA, KOEPPKE _and_ GISELLA _stop her_.)

        LUCHER

Have you all gone crazy? The police will get him!

        SOPHIA

Ssh!

(RUDOLF _bursts out of the room, rushes to the right. Through the opened
door, on the bed, is_ ELENA'S _white dress_.)

        RUDOLF

Elena! Elena! (_He goes out at the right, then returns._) Where is she?
Why do you all stand there, frozen? Go after her. Find her. (HOETZLER,
SOPHIA, _the_ COUNT, TALISZ _and_ KOEPPKE _go off babbling "We'll find
her. We'll bring her back," etc._) I never should have trusted her to
go into that bathroom alone.

        COUNTESS (_frightened_)

How did she get out? Did she jump out of the window?

        RUDOLF

No. She went through another door. I wouldn't have trusted her if it
hadn't been for the affectionate way she hit me. Elena! (_He is still
pacing about frantically, from door to door._ SOPHIA _comes in again_.)

        SOPHIA

She's left the hotel!

        COUNTESS

She ought to be ashamed of herself.

        LUCHER

She's gone home!

        RUDOLF

Home? And where is that? Where does she live?

        LUCHER

You've got to stay here.

        RUDOLF

Why?

        LUCHER

The police.

        POFFY

They're in the hotel now.

        RUDOLF

Get my cap.

        LUCHER

I tell you she's gone back to her husband.

        RUDOLF

That psychoanalyst? So much the better. Get my cap! (_He propels_ LUCHER
_toward the bedroom_.) Now which one of you verminous objects is going
to tell me where she lives?

        GISELLA

I don't know where she lives.

        RUDOLF (_to the_ COUNTESS)

Do you know?

        COUNTESS (_timorously_)

Poffy can tell you. Poffy knows.

        RUDOLF (_to_ POFFY)

You will escort me there.

        POFFY

If you set foot out of this hotel you're insane.

        RUDOLF

You're still threatening me with the police?

        POFFY

They'll recognize you, Your Highness. . . .

        SOPHIA

Oh, we _beg_ of Your Highness . . .

        RUDOLF

Any member of the Vienna police force who lays a hand on me will find
himself at the bottom of the canal.

(LUCHER _has returned with the Tyrolean hat_.)

        LUCHER

Here!

        RUDOLF

No! My military cap!

        LUCHER

That uniform is no longer worn in Vienna.

        RUDOLF

I don't give ten thousand damns what's worn . . .

        LUCHER (_screaming at him_)

They'll shoot you. They'll jump at the chance to finish you.

        RUDOLF (_calmly_)

Very well. . . . Very well. (_He has put on the hat, and a cape which_
POFFY _has brought for him_.)

        LUCHER

She doesn't want you any more.

        RUDOLF

Oh, yes, she does. She's leading me on. She wants the thrill of the
chase. Well--she shall have it! (_He crosses to the right and picks up
the brandy bottle from the table._) And if the accommodations at her
house are inadequate I'll bring her back here. So see to it that this
party is still going on when I return, whether it's to-morrow--or the
next day--or whenever. Come on, Poffy. (_He has gone out, followed by_
POFFY.)

        COUNTESS (_thrilled_)

He'll do it! He'll do it!

        GISELLA

Nothing will stop him!

        SOPHIA

He'll bring her back, and the party will go on forever!

        LUCHER

You fools! You fools! Don't you see what will happen? They'll catch him.
They'll kill him. To-morrow there'll be another Habsburg burning in
hell.

(POFFY _comes in quickly_.)

        POFFY

Frau Lucher!

        LUCHER (_gasping_)

Have they got him?

        POFFY

No. . . . His Imperial Highness presents his compliments and wishes you
to advance him a few schillings for his taxi-fare.

(LUCHER _is muttering a series of unprintable imprecations as she digs
into her capacious hand-bag_.)


                             CURTAIN




ACT III


_Again the living room in the_ KRUG _home_.

_The time is directly after the end of Act II._

_There are spots of light about the room, but the surrounding shadows
are deep. In one of the areas of shadow_ ANTON _is seated, listening to
the radio, though not relaxed. He continually looks toward the
window--toward the door. After a moment, he rises and crosses to the
window, parts the curtains, and peers out._

ELENA _comes in, breathless and agitated_. RUDOLF'S _cape is about her,
clutched tightly, masking the absence of her white dress. . . . She
hurries past_ ANTON _and turns off the radio_.

        ANTON (_turning from the window_)

Well, how was it?

        ELENA

Just about as I expected.

        ANTON

Amusing?

        ELENA

No.

        ANTON

No excitement?

        ELENA

None.

        ANTON

You didn't stay there very long.

        ELENA

Didn't I? (_She is going toward her room._)

        ANTON (_gently_)

It was evidently a bit upsetting.

        ELENA

It was nothing of the kind.

        ANTON

I don't like to question you, Elena, but I'm rather afraid that . . .

        ELENA (_with uncharacteristic petulance_)

You like nothing better than to question me. (_She is at the back. He is
still by the window at the right._)

        ANTON

You know that's not so.

        ELENA

Oh--not usually. But to-night . . . why did you ask me to go? Why?

        ANTON

I thought you might have a good time.

        ELENA

You were wrong. You know, Anton, your prescriptions are not infallible.
. . . But--let's not talk about it now. I'm tired.

(_Old_ KRUG _has come in from the upper left. He is in his bath-robe,
night-shirt and slippers_.)

        KRUG

Ah! So you're back. I _thought_ I heard you come in. Well, how was the
party? Did anything interesting happen? Tell us all about it.

        ANTON

She's going to bed.

        KRUG

Who all was there? Any famous people? (ELENA _has gone up to the door of
her room_.) And what--where's your _dress?_

        ELENA

Good night, father. Good night, Anton. (_She goes into her room._)

        KRUG

Hmm! Well, what do you make of it? (ANTON _crosses to the left, lights a
cigarette, nervously_. KRUG _comes down slowly_.) Didn't you notice
anything about the way she said good night? No kisses, nor sweet dreams,
nor any affection. And that costume! She was wearing a dress when she
left here, wasn't she? There's something the matter. Didn't you notice
it?

        ANTON (_sharply_)

No!

        KRUG

Well, if you didn't I _did!_ And I don't set myself up as a great
mind-reader, like you. . . . I could see that something happened there
at Lucher's . . .

        ANTON

She's tired, that's all.

        KRUG

Yes--but _why_ is she tired? That's what we ought to know. And what
happened to her dress? That's what we ought to find out. You ought to
ask a few questions about this . . .

(_The insistent ringing of the night bell is heard._)

        ANTON

There's nothing to find out.

        KRUG

There's the night bell.

        ANTON

I can hear it.

        KRUG

What do you suppose it is?

        ANTON

I haven't the faintest idea. (_From the right can be heard peremptory
pounding on the front door and loud shouts._ ANTON _crosses to the right
and goes out_.)

        KRUG

But listen. . . . That sounds like trouble . . .

        RUDOLF (_offstage_)

You needn't announce me . . .

        KATHIE (_shrieking, offstage_)

Oh! Herr Professor! It's a madman.

        KRUG (_excited_)

You'd better get out your pistol, Anton. It's another one of your
patients gone insane.

        KATHIE (_offstage_)

A maniac! His keeper is with him but he won't listen. . . . He forced
his way in. I couldn't stop him.

        POFFY (_offstage_)

I'm sorry, Herr Professor. If there had been any conceivable way of
avoiding this . . .

        RUDOLF

A thousand pardons for the disturbance, but this dutiful handmaiden
seemed to feel that I should be denied admittance. (_By now_, RUDOLF
_has entered, followed by_ POFFY, ANTON _and_ KATHIE. RUDOLF _is still
carrying the bottle of brandy, as a weapon. He addresses_ KRUG.) Are
you the doctor?

        KRUG

Yes! No!

        RUDOLF

No?

        KRUG

No! He is. (_He points to_ ANTON. RUDOLF _turns and confronts the
husband of_ ELENA.) And I am his father . . .

        RUDOLF

Ah! So you are the Herr Professor Doctor! I am frankly surprised. My
imagination had adorned you with a gray beard, a long one. (_He bows._)
How do you do?

        ANTON

Who are you?

        RUDOLF

Eh? You are asking me who . . .?

        KRUG

I can tell you who he is . . .

        RUDOLF

He doesn't know who I am, Poffy. Come--step up! Present me.

        POFFY

Professor Krug--this is the former Archduke Rudolf Maximillian.

        RUDOLF

The former! One would think I had already joined my ancestors in their
eternal empire.

        KRUG

Oh! No!

        RUDOLF

However, my dear doctor, you will readily observe that such is not the
case. I am here, in your charming home, and I wish to see your wife.

        ANTON

My wife has gone to bed.

        RUDOLF

She will wish to be aroused.

(ANTON _regards_ RUDOLF _for a moment, then crosses in front of him and
addresses_ KRUG.)

        ANTON

Go to bed, father.

        KRUG

_Me?_

        ANTON (_motioning him off_)

Yes! Do as you're told.

(_In a state of extreme disgruntlement, old_ KRUG _turns and ambles
slowly up toward the steps_. RUDOLF _removes his hat_.)

        RUDOLF (_to_ POFFY)

And you're no longer needed, Poffy. Go back to Lucher's and see that
they carry on.

        POFFY

You had better come with me.

        RUDOLF

I may be detained a little longer than I had expected.

        POFFY

I'll be at the hotel on call. (POFFY _goes out at the right_. KRUG _is
now at the door of_ ELENA'S _room_.)

        KRUG (_calling through the door_)

Elena, the Archduke Rudolf Maximillian von Habsburg is calling on us and
they're sending me to bed. (KRUG _goes on out at the upper left_. . . .
ANTON _confronts_ RUDOLF, _who holds the brandy bottle at the alert_.
. . . _After a moment_, ANTON _smiles and advances toward_ RUDOLF.)

        ANTON

I--I wish I could tell you how glad I am to see you.

        RUDOLF (_startled_)

You're _glad_--to see _me?_

        ANTON

I should think you could imagine why. You've been something of a
presence in my home, for a long time, ever since Elena and I were
married. Not an entirely agreeable presence, I might add. (_He laughs._)
But one that we could never quite get rid of. At times, you've stalked
about this house as if you owned it.

        RUDOLF (_pleased_)

I _have?_

        ANTON

I naturally resented it, a little. But now that I have the chance to see
you, and talk to you, I can feel much more friendly toward that
presence.

        RUDOLF (_bewildered_)

Well! I've known husbands in my time--but you're the first one who ever
granted me a kind word. . . . (_He steps forward. They bow and shake
hands._) I'm glad to see you, too, Herr Professor. Your vast reputation
has not done you justice.

        ANTON

A remarkably graceful compliment!

        RUDOLF

Of course, I've known you through your books. Oh, yes! I've studied
them, carefully.

        ANTON

All eight volumes?

        RUDOLF

You don't believe me, do you? Very well--cross-examine me!

        ANTON

No, no. I don't like cross-examinations. I'm only too eager to take your
word for it.

        RUDOLF

It's very fortunate that you are. Otherwise I should have been proved a
liar. (_He puts his hand affectionately on_ ANTON'S _shoulder_. _They
both laugh. . . ._ ELENA _comes in, now wearing a negligee_.) But I'm
going to read them. I know now that they're good. (_He sees_ ELENA.)
Elena, we're friends!

(ELENA, _on the landing, looks from_ RUDOLF _to_ ANTON.)

        ELENA

Are you?

        ANTON

Of course we are. We see eye to eye on the most important subject.

        RUDOLF

As a matter of fact, we're an incredibly happy combination. Your husband
represents the sublimity of the intellectual, and I the quintessence of
the emotional. You know--between us, just about there--(_he points to a
spot on the carpet_)--there ought to be found the perfect man!

(ANTON _laughs_. ELENA _comes down, goes over to the left, beside_
ANTON.)

        ANTON

Please go on talking.

        RUDOLF

Gladly! I have a great deal of interest to say. (_He sits down in a
chair in the centre._)

        ELENA

I hope you'll cut it short, Rudolf. Not that I'm unmindful of the great
distinction conferred on our house by your presence here--but I'm
sleepy. We're sleepy.

        RUDOLF

I am still confident of my ability to keep you awake. But my words are
not for you, my darling. They are for our mutual friend, your husband.

        ANTON

I am anxious to hear them.

        RUDOLF

I'm sure you are. And I'm equally sure that you'll be sympathetic.
You're a brilliant psychologist--but more than that, you're a Viennese.
You will know what I mean. . . . (ANTON _bows_.) But here--I seem to be
the only one who's seated. Won't you please sit down?

        ANTON

No--if you don't mind . . .

(ELENA _sits down on the edge of the couch_.)

        RUDOLF (_settling back in the chair_)

No, I don't mind. . . . Well--to begin at the beginning--always a
suitable starting point: Herr Professor--I have been making advances to
your wife. I am here now to continue them until the desired objective
has been reached. Am I making myself clear?

        ANTON

Perfectly clear.

        ELENA

So far.

        RUDOLF

Good! You are obviously a man of superior perception. You will not fail
to see the validity of my claim. Fifteen years ago I became intimate
with Elena. And when I say that I became intimate with her, I hope you
will understand that I . . .

        ANTON

I am familiar with the preface. You may skip it.

        RUDOLF

No, no. I decline to do so. Indeed, I wish to dwell on it. She was then
a maiden, exquisitely frail, standing hesitantly upon the threshold of
infinite potentiality, if you will forgive my eloquence. Ah--she was
lovely, Herr Professor. You would have adored her.

        ANTON

I'm sure of it.

        RUDOLF

As for myself, I was then, as now, a rank idealist--and when I first
looked upon her, and felt the touch of her hand and saw the virginal
invitation that was in her eyes, I vowed to myself, "This is the
ultimate!" So I made her my mistress. For four beautiful years, I was
devotedly . . .

        ELENA

It was hardly more than two.

        RUDOLF

Don't interrupt!

        ELENA

Don't exaggerate!

        RUDOLF (_rising, enraged_)

If I'm to be interrupted . . .!

        ELENA

Don't _exaggerate!_

        RUDOLF

I do so only because of a desire to flatter you. (_He turns
apologetically to_ ANTON.) Permit me to continue: our idyllic
romance was terminated by the revolution. Austria was compelled to
give up most of her treasured provinces and possessions, including
my family. (_He sits down again._) We were at Lucher's together
when the summons came. I promised her I'd return immediately--but
I didn't return. I never even had a chance to say good-bye to her.
(_He has said this almost to himself. He turns now to_ ANTON.) We
were denied the privilege of parting as most lovers do, with the
customary romantic heroism--hypocritical self-sacrifice. We were
wrenched apart. (_He indicates the arbitrary separation with a
gesture of his clenched fists._) Surely, Herr Doctor, you can see
the significance of that wrench.

        ANTON

I've seen a great deal of it.

        RUDOLF (_resuming_)

The pretense of adjustment had to be made. In my exile I concluded that
I should never see my darling again and I made every effort to reconcile
myself to that dismal realization. The effort was not completely
successful. For ten years I have felt the lack of her. So I decided to
return to Vienna, and have one more look at her, and let my youthful
illusions be shattered once and for all.

        ANTON

That was a highly intelligent decision--wasn't it, Elena?

        ELENA

I'm not quite certain.

        RUDOLF

Oh, it was, in theory. For I assumed that she would have become a
commonplace, obese, bourgeois housewife.

        ANTON

She has resisted the influences surrounding her.

        RUDOLF

She has, indeed, and I've been grievously disappointed. I find that my
acute want of her was no illusion. It remains a fact. (_He rises._) A
fact! (_He crosses and stands behind the couch._) Which we all must
face.

        ELENA

Yes, Anton.

        RUDOLF

Perhaps you don't believe that it is a fact. Elena didn't at first. I
told her something this evening--something that I'd have confessed to no
other woman. I told her that all the enjoyment I've had has been
vicarious. I, too, have been conscious of a presence. Elena has been in
attendance at all the sordid little romances I have ever known.
(_Turning to_ ELENA.) Oh, my dear, you'd be horrified if you knew how
many fantastic shapes you have assumed. (_To_ ANTON.) That sounds a bit
disgusting, doesn't it?

        ANTON

Nothing is disgusting that is said with such artless sincerity.

        RUDOLF (_to_ ELENA)

He's charming--charming! (_To_ ANTON.) I knew you were qualified to deal
with this situation, Herr Doctor. You see, Elena told me: you've
written a whole book about me.

        ANTON

What?

        ELENA

I told him nothing of the kind.

        RUDOLF

You did. You distinctly said he'd analyzed me . . .

        ELENA (_cutting in_)

I did not. I said he'd written about that much, explaining your type.
(_She indicates about two inches between her thumb and forefinger._)

        RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON)

Evidently you can say volumes in a few words. Ah, Herr Doctor--it's
enlightening to confront any one like you, who can view things
impersonally, and with none of the usual moralistic indignation. You're
a scientist--thank God--and I beg of you to consider me as your patient.
Analyze me. Subject me to the treatment that you know I need.

        ANTON

I'm afraid that's impossible, my friend.

        ELENA (_to_ RUDOLF)

That's absurd. It takes a long time to complete a treatment.

        RUDOLF

So much the better. I don't mind remaining in Vienna indefinitely. But
now is the time to begin, Herr Doctor. I want some professional advice.

        ANTON

I can't give it.

        RUDOLF

But I insist that you can.

        ELENA

It's not his custom to give advice.

        RUDOLF

Nonsense--he's a doctor--a distinguished one.

        ELENA

By a process of suggestion, he compels the patient to advise himself.

        RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON)

Very well, then--suggest something.

        ANTON

No. You have ideas of your own.

        RUDOLF

A bewilderingly wide variety.

        ANTON

I don't doubt it. But it is useless for me to try to consider this in
the light of my own experience; because I have never confronted this
problem in just this way before.

        RUDOLF

Why, with Elena for a wife I should think that this sort of thing would
be coming up all the time.

        ANTON

I agree one would naturally think so. (ANTON _is beginning to betray
evidences of impatience which might easily develop into violent wrath_.)

        ELENA

But one would be wrong.

        RUDOLF

Well, I'm glad.

        ANTON

I'm only a psychiatrist. Your case requires the specialized services of
a neuro-pathologist. There is a very good one in Munich.

        RUDOLF

Munich? But that's a long way off--and the night is slipping through our
fingers.

        ANTON

That's the only advice I can give you, Herr von Habsburg. There's
nothing I can do to help you.

        RUDOLF (_appalled_)

Herr von Habsburg! So that's my name? Herr von Habsburg! Oh--I'm not
protesting. It _is_ my name! It would have been patronizing to call me
anything else. Forgive me for interrupting. . . . (_During the foregoing
speech he has crossed to the left, close to_ ANTON, _as though, for a
moment, he had considered a demonstration of his resentment of the
humiliating "Herr." . . . He now sits down, slumping, on a chair that is
between_ ANTON, _who is standing before the fire-place, and_ ELENA, _on
the couch. . . . It should be noted that through this dialogue_ ELENA
_is watching both of them with enthralled interest, alarmed expectancy
and mounting excitement. . . . With apparent weariness_, RUDOLF
_continues:_) You were saying something about a doctor in Munich.

        ANTON

Yes. I'll give you a letter to him, and I urge that you go and consult
him at once.

        RUDOLF (_with a flash of anger_)

But I don't want to go to Munich! I want this problem to be settled now!

        ANTON

I'm not a witch doctor. I can't straighten out a mass of glandular
complications with a wave of the hand.

        RUDOLF (_surprised but amused_)

Oh, but I'm not complicated--even though I do like to represent myself
as an enigma. (_To_ ELENA.) You don't mind my talking about myself?

        ELENA

Not at all. We're used to it.

        RUDOLF

It's a fascinating subject. . . . You must realize, Herr Doctor, that
for all my talk, I'm simply a man who lives on sensations. They're meat
and drink and breath of life to me. At the moment, I'm desperately in
need of nourishment--nourishment for my self-esteem. My ego is like the
belly of a starving man--it's bloated but empty.

        ANTON

And you imagine that I can furnish the necessary nourishment?

        RUDOLF

If you can't--no one else can.

        ANTON

If this could be dealt with in a rational manner, it would be simple.
I'd tell you to look at her to your heart's content--fill your
imagination with her. (RUDOLF _turns and stares at_ ELENA _and continues
to do so while_ ANTON _snaps out the following:_) And then see for
yourself that for you she has no substance; she's a dream that you've
explained, and disposed of, and that you can never recapture. . . . But
it isn't so simple as all that.

(_Slowly_ RUDOLF _turns away from_ ELENA, _rises, confronts_ ANTON.)

        RUDOLF

You're right, my friend. It isn't so simple. . . . I must do more than
just look.

(ANTON _walks away, toward the right_.)

        ELENA

Well, Anton--what have you to say to that?

        ANTON (_irritably_)

There's nothing for me to say. I don't want to have anything to say.
(_There is a pregnant pause._)

        RUDOLF

I know--it's a damned awkward situation. And it wouldn't have arisen if
it hadn't been for your decency. When I came in here I was ready to
fight, and either be dragged out myself, or take Elena with me. But--you
were so kind. You were so friendly. You showed me that this dispute
should be settled by reason as opposed to force.

        ANTON

I find that this dispute has become essentially unreasonable.

        RUDOLF

It has not! My impulses are entirely natural.

        ANTON

And so are my objections to your impulses.

        RUDOLF

Oh! So you do object?

        ANTON

Yes! I do! (_His attitude is now one of undisguised belligerence._)

        RUDOLF

You're not friendly with me any more. Why? Do you imagine that I want to
take her away from you for good and all? I can reassure you on that
point. I want her for one night only. That will give me enough to live
on for another ten years--by which time I'll hardly be a serious menace
to you or to any one. Now--surely--you can have no objection to that?

        ANTON

You're forcing me into the hellishly uncomfortable position of a jealous
husband.

        RUDOLF

If you will permit me to say so, you assumed that position voluntarily
when you married her.

        ANTON

Yes, yes! I know that!

        RUDOLF

You admitted the presence that is in your house, and now that the
presence has materialized, are you afraid to face it?

        ELENA

No! Anton! You won't let him say that.

        RUDOLF

No! No! I don't believe it! You're a man of exalted intellect. You know
that jealousy is merely a manifestation of fear, and you have banished
fear as completely as you have banished the odious Habsburgs. Isn't that
so?

        ANTON

We've expelled the Habsburgs from Austria, but not all of us have
expelled the Habsburgs from ourselves. . . . Now, I want you to leave.

        RUDOLF

What?

        ANTON

I'm asking you to go.

        RUDOLF

Taking Elena with me?

        ANTON

No.

        RUDOLF

Even though she might want to go?

        ANTON

Have you bothered to consult her as to that?

(ELENA _rises and crosses to the fire-place_.)

        ELENA

Oh, leave me out of this. I'm only the guerdon in this conflict. You
will have to dispose of me between yourselves.

        ANTON

Get out!

        RUDOLF

Oh--I'm disappointed in you, Herr Doctor. I thought you were one who had
conquered all the baser emotions. But now I see that you _are_ just a
husband--no better than the rest of them.

        ANTON

Unless you go of your own accord, I shall attempt to put you out--and I
believe I shall succeed.

        RUDOLF

I'm sure you can. But not without making a ridiculous spectacle of
yourself.

        ANTON (_taking off his glasses_)

Then I shall not delay the process. (_He now starts to take off his
coat. Observing this_, RUDOLF _starts to take off his coat, turning to_
ELENA, _as he does so_.)

        RUDOLF

There, Elena! I have exposed him before your eyes. This colossus of the
intellect, this triumph of civilization, is behaving like a vindictive
ape.

        ANTON

Get out!

        RUDOLF (_going up and putting his coat on the balcony rail_)

I have to warn you that I'm not going to fight fair.

        ANTON

You'd better not watch this, Elena.

        ELENA

Nothing could induce me to leave now! (_She sits down on the bench
before the fire-place._) I've just realized that I've been waiting for
this moment for years.

        RUDOLF

That's right. Stay where you are. When I've had enough I'll call to you
and you can drag him off me. (_He picks up a small, modernistic metal
statue from the bookcase and brandishes it._) Come on, Herr Professor.
It's for you to begin the brawl. . . .

        ELENA

Put that down!

(RUDOLF _examines the statue_.)

        RUDOLF

Do you _like_ that?

        ELENA

Put it down!

(_Reluctantly he obeys._)

        RUDOLF (_to_ ANTON)

I'm now unarmed. I'm a competent swordsman but I'm hopelessly inept with
my fists. I'm forced to the indignity of treating with you. I'll make
you an offer.

        ANTON

Make it quickly.

        RUDOLF

A very handsome one . . .

        ANTON

Make it quickly!

        RUDOLF (_with convincing fervor_)

Give her to me for this one night, and I shall give to you in return my
one possession--namely, this carcass that I wear about my immortal soul,
these priceless pounds of flesh. To-morrow I shall go forth upon the
Ringstrasse. I shall kick and insult policemen. My identity will become
known. I shall be beaten to earth and shot, and I shall die gloriously
in the gutter, my head pillowed on a pile of excrement. But before I
take this suicidal action, I shall sign documents bequeathing my
remains, unconditionally, to the eminent Professor Doctor . . . what's
the name?

        ELENA

Krug.

        RUDOLF

Krug! All that is left of me will be yours. You will appreciate my value
to science. You may lay me out on your operating table, you may probe,
dissect me, discover just what it is about me that has made me what I
am, the quality that dominated most of Europe for six hundred years. You
will be able to say to your students: "Here, gentlemen--this revolting
object that I hold before you is the heart of a Habsburg!" (_There is a
prolonged pause._) No? You reject my offer? You insist on being
primitive? Very well, then! Come on, Herr Doctor--(_He steps back and
achieves a pose._) I'm waiting for that bull-like rush.

        ANTON

You are succeeding in your object.

        RUDOLF

I--succeeding?

        ANTON

You are making a fool of me. I should have heeded your warning that you
wouldn't fight fair. There are a thousand excellent reasons why I
should hit you and I know all those reasons. But confronting you this
way, in the presence of my wife, whom I wish above all others to
impress, I can't do it. I could finish the fight, but I can't start it.

        ELENA

No, Anton, you're wrong. You couldn't finish it. I am the only one who
could do that. I should have known it there at Lucher's. (_The night
bell rings._) I shouldn't have tried to escape. That's the mistake I've
always . . . (_The bell rings again._) Who is that?

        RUDOLF

Don't tell me that the doctor is being summoned to a patient! (_The bell
rings again._)

        ELENA

Shall I go? (_She crosses to the right._)

        ANTON

No--Kathie is awake.

(_Old_ KRUG _comes in_.)

        KRUG

I heard the bell! I thought it might be something important.

        RUDOLF

Let us hope it is not a matter of life and death.

(KATHIE _comes in at the right_.)

        KATHIE

Herr Professor Doctor!

(POFFY _rushes in_.)

        POFFY

Herr Professor Doctor, my deepest apologies for bursting in in this
manner but . . .

        ANTON

What is it?

        POFFY

It's the police.

        KRUG

The police!

        ANTON

What do they want?

        POFFY

His Imperial Highness was seen tearing down the Kartnerstrasse in a
taxi . . .

(_Old_ KRUG _whistles_.)

        ELENA

They want him! They've found out about him!

        RUDOLF

By all means let them have me. It's an easy disposition of your problem,
Herr Professor.

        ELENA

No. You will have to hide. Go in there.

        ANTON

What good will that do? The police will keep on till they find him.

        RUDOLF

I shall not hide! I prefer to stand and face them.

        ELENA

No, you won't. Go in there. . . . Kathie--tell the police that Dr. Krug
will see them in a moment.

        KATHIE

Yes, ma'am. (_She goes._)

        POFFY (_to_ RUDOLF)

You must hide! The whole force is out searching for you.

        RUDOLF (_going up_)

This is the very depth of ignominy.

        KRUG

In here, Your Imperial Highness.

        ELENA

Here! (_She hands him his Tyrolean hat._)

        RUDOLF

I will not be arrested in this God-damned hat! (_He goes into the room
at the back._)

        ELENA

Shut the door, father.

(KRUG _does so_--ELENA _motions him to his bedroom. He pouts but goes
out, upper left._)

        ANTON

We'll have to see them.

        POFFY

I beg of you, Herr Professor, go down and send them away.

        ANTON

Do you think that will stop them from going on with their search?

        POFFY

But, surely, they will listen to you. Your position . . .

        ANTON

They know perfectly well that there was every likelihood of his coming
here. I might get them out of this house, but I can't prevent them from
keeping a close watch on it.

        POFFY

But you have the greatest influence with the authorities. You can speak
to them, persuade them . . .

        ANTON

To do what? To allow him to remain here as my guest?

        POFFY

No--to permit him to leave Austria, quietly. If you will only say a word
to Herr Wreede, the prefect. He's out at Schnbrunn. . . . And I can
swear to you that the Archduke will abide by any arrangement you choose
to make.

        ANTON (_to_ ELENA)

So I'm to go to Schnbrunn and make all the arrangements.

        ELENA

Oh, yes, Anton. You must do everything you can to help him. . . .

        POFFY

You will be performing an act of the greatest generosity!

        ELENA

Yes, Anton.

(ANTON _stares at_ ELENA _for a moment, then turns to_ POFFY.)

        ANTON

Will you please wait for me downstairs?

        POFFY

Yes, Herr Professor Doctor. (_He bows and goes. There is another
pause._)

        ANTON

An act of great generosity! And let us hope of great wisdom.

        ELENA

Have you any doubt of the wisdom, Anton?

        ANTON

Yes, I have, but I must not admit it. (_He is making a gallant attempt
to be ironic._) You see, Elena--I am facing the test of my own
relentless principles. You've heard what my students call me: "the
messiah of a new faith." . . . Well--to-night I've heard the bitter
injunction that is given to all messiahs: "Physician, heal thyself."
It's not a comforting thought. . . . However--I must go out to
Schnbrunn and see Wreede. I must make the necessary arrangements. I
shan't be back before morning.

        ELENA

Oh!

        ANTON

Yes! (_He comes close to her._) You saw the truth, Elena. You saw it, at
last, when he goaded me into behaving like--like a vindictive ape. You
are the only one who can settle it. If you can look at him, and laugh at
him, and pity him, as you'd pity a deluded child; if you can see him for
what he is, and not for what your memory tells you that he was--then
you're free. He can never hurt you, whatever he does, or whatever you
do.

        ELENA

Very well, Anton.

        ANTON (_he stares at her for a moment_)

Good-bye, Elena. . . . And tell him not to worry. . . . (_He turns and
starts to go._) Herr Wreede will be glad to do me a favor. His wife is
one of my patients. (_He has gone out at the right. . . ._ ELENA _stands
still for a moment, then turns and calls, "Rudolf! Rudolf!"_ RUDOLF
_opens the door and peers out_. ELENA _crosses to the left_.)

        ELENA

They've gone. You can come out.

(RUDOLF _emerges, still in his shirt sleeves, carrying his uniform coat.
His tone during the subsequent scene is elaborately sardonic._)

        RUDOLF

Are you sure it's safe?

        ELENA

Perfectly.

        RUDOLF

Where is your husband?

        ELENA

He has gone out.

        RUDOLF

Where?

        ELENA

To see the prefect of police.

        RUDOLF

And what am I to do in the meanwhile--put on my coat and go?

        ELENA

No. You can't. The police are down there.

        RUDOLF

They were reluctant to take your husband's word?

        ELENA

Yes--but you can rely on Anton. He has great influence with the
officials. He'll see to it that you are allowed to leave Austria safely.

        RUDOLF (_coming down_)

So I'm to rely on him, am I?

        ELENA

There's no one else who could do as much for you.

        RUDOLF

The soul of magnanimity, isn't he!

        ELENA

Yes.

        RUDOLF

And trustful, too!

        ELENA

Yes.

        RUDOLF

And sublimely confident of your strength.

        ELENA

Yes!

        RUDOLF

And contemptuous of me. (_She says nothing. He throws his coat down on
the couch, and glowers at the door through which_ ANTON _departed_.) As
effective a bit of foul play as I have ever witnessed! He's tricked me
into his debt--put me on my honor. He knows that I have that. It runs in
the Habsburg blood--honor and epilepsy. We deserved to be thrown
out--not because we were tyrants, but because we were all at heart
rotten sentimentalists. The doctor has discovered the essential
weakness.

        ELENA

I told you his method of cure. He influences the patient to advise
himself.

        RUDOLF

Yes--and what he has made me advise myself is not very gratifying to my
vanity or stimulating to my lecherous impulses. God damn him! He's
devitalized me, emasculated me. (_He sits down on the end of the couch;
his fury and much of his bumptiousness have gone out of him._) While I
was in there, hiding, waiting for him to protect me from the law, I
looked at my coat, and the obsolete medals, and the worn-out lining, and
a great truth dawned on me. It came to me in a revelation that I am no
longer an Archduke, nephew of an Emperor; I am a taxi-driver, dressed
up!

        ELENA

And did your revelation also disclose to you what I am now?

        RUDOLF

Yes! You're no longer a mistress--you're a wife--and consequently
unprepossessing.

        ELENA

Ah! You have realized that at last!

        RUDOLF

I have.

        ELENA

And you know that I can face you, and laugh at you, and pity you, as I'd
pity a deluded child!

        RUDOLF

Do we need to enlarge on it? If you mean to get satisfaction for all the
indignities that I've lavished on you, you'll be up all night. . . . Go
to bed and leave me alone. I'll promise to sit here and keep the faith.

        ELENA (_with sudden tenderness_)

You'd better have some rest. You'll be travelling in the morning.

        RUDOLF

Your solicitude is touching. But please don't have me on your mind.

        ELENA

The police may come back.

        RUDOLF

And you want me to know that it would grieve you sorely to have me
receive my just deserts. I knew it!

        ELENA

You'd better go in there and lie down and try to get some sleep.

        RUDOLF

As you wish. (_He rises, crosses to the window, starts to look out upon
the Viennese scene, but turns away._) I shall rest peacefully, soothed
by the knowledge that even I have influential friends in Austria. . . .
Good night. . . . And when the benevolent doctor returns, please try to
express to him some measure of my gratitude. Assure him that, thanks to
his generosity, I shall leave Vienna, forever, and return to my taxi.
(_He has gone up to the landing at the back. Elena picks up his coat
from the couch._)

        ELENA

You've forgotten your coat, Rudolf.

        RUDOLF

Oh, thank you.

        ELENA (_looking at the coat_)

It needs mending. (_She goes up to the steps._)

        RUDOLF

Please don't bother. I'll never wear it again.

        ELENA

You will, Rudolf. You'll always wear it, gallantly--even if the lining
is a little torn. It's your coat. (_She hands him the coat._)

        RUDOLF

Yes! One of the meagre possessions of Herr von Habsburg! (_He puts the
coat on the balustrade._) You're very sweet, Elena. I don't quite know
why you should be, in view of the ridiculous trouble I've caused. But
please remember that I'm grateful--and also sorry.

(_She takes his hand._)

        ELENA

No, Rudolf--you must never be sorry.

        RUDOLF

Good night, my dear. (_He kisses her hand._) Good-bye. (_He goes into
the bedroom. . . . For some moments, she stands still. At length, she
picks up his coat, looks at the worn lining and the tarnished medals,
hanging limply. Then she turns, switches out the lights so that the
stage is in darkness except for a faint glow from the hallway. She opens
the door of her room. The light from within shines on her._)

        ELENA

Rudolf . . .

        RUDOLF (_from offstage_)

Yes?

(_She goes into the room and closes the door behind her._)

                             CURTAIN

_The curtain is down a few seconds to indicate the passage of several
hours. Its rise reveals morning, brilliantly sunny, warm and cheerful._
KATHIE _is completing the arranging of the breakfast table which is at
the left of the couch. It is set for three._

_Old_ KRUG _shuffles in from the left, carrying the morning paper_.

        KRUG (_disgusted_)

Just as I thought! Not a word in here about what happened last night.
One of the most exciting things that's happened in this city in years,
and then they hush it up. (_He sniffs and his expression changes._) Mm!
Kidneys!

        KATHIE

You're not to touch them! They are for the Herr Professor Doctor.

        KRUG

I thought as much. . . . Oh--well . . .

(KATHIE _starts to go_, KRUG _follows her, talking_.)

        KRUG

Oh, Kathie! (_She pauses._) What did you think of our guest, eh? Did you
ever see any one like that before?

        KATHIE (_scornfully_)

No! (_She resumes her exit._)

        KRUG

I never did, either--I mean, close to. How did they get rid of him? What
happened after I went to bed? (_He is following her out._)

        KATHIE (_from offstage_)

I haven't the faintest idea what happened!

        KRUG (_from offstage_)

Well--I'd surely like to know. But it's a sure thing no one's going to
tell me. Didn't you hear anything? (RUDOLF _comes out of the room at the
back, and deposits his cape and his hat on the balustrade. . . ._ KRUG,
_still mumbling, returns_.) I've got to find out all these things for
myself.

        RUDOLF

Good morning. Good morning. Good morning! Whoever you are, I bid you
good morning, and I can assure you I do so with the most profound
sincerity. (KRUG _sees who it is, and is so startled he can only gape_.
RUDOLF _goes to the window and looks out_.) It has been years since I
have seen one like it. You know, it's an extraordinary thing about
Vienna; in no other place on earth will you find a finer quality of
mornings. They're ample, they're complete! They have character. Look at
this one! It's a new day--and, don't forget, that's very different from
saying "another day." You never hear people in Vienna say "another day
has dawned," do you? For that's precisely like saying "another Chinaman
has been born," an exact reproduction of all the countless millions and
millions of Chinamen that have been born and lived and died. . . . It's
an appalling thought, isn't it? (_He crosses toward the breakfast table,
by which old_ KRUG, _utterly bewildered, is now standing_.) No, my dear
friend--we Viennese are privileged beings. For us, each morning is an
adventure, unprecedented and unforgettable. A new day! (_He inspects the
array of breakfast._) What have we here?

        KRUG (_weakly_)

I thought Your Imperial Highness had gone.

        RUDOLF

What led you to that misconception? (_He is looking at the various
dishes._)

        KRUG

After the police had left, I heard the front door close again.

        RUDOLF

That was the excellent Herr Professor, going forth to clear the
atmosphere. Ah! Kidneys. (_He takes the dish and sits down._)

        KRUG

Those are for my son!

        RUDOLF

He likes kidneys, does he? (_He has begun to eat them._)

        KRUG

He does--and no one is allowed to touch . . .

        RUDOLF

Please sit down. (KRUG _sits across the table_.) You know, the more I
hear about that gifted scientist, the more I know him to be a gentleman
of discernment and taste. He and I obviously appreciate the same
delicacies.

        KRUG

Where did you sleep last night?

        RUDOLF

Now really, my friend--you're a man of the world, aren't you?

        KRUG (_indignantly_)

I am nothing of the kind.

        RUDOLF

I envy you. It's a poor world. You do well to keep out of it. If you
take my advice, you'll stay here, where you are, in this charming house,
in this incomparable city, with a view of the horse-chestnuts; and leave
investigation of the world to those who have no place else to go. (ELENA
_comes in. She is radiant._) Ah! Our lovely hostess!

        KRUG

Look, Elena! Look at who is having breakfast with me!

        ELENA

Good morning, father. Good morning, Rudolf. (_She waves toward the
window._) Gorgeous, isn't it?

        RUDOLF

We've been discussing it, at some length.

        KRUG

You should have heard him, Elena. I couldn't make out what he was
talking about.

(ELENA _has come down to the table and taken possession of the coffee
pot_.)

        ELENA

Will you have coffee, Rudolf?

        RUDOLF

Oh--I'll have everything: coffee, with whipped cream, rolls, honey, jam,
jelly. . . . (_To_ KRUG.) By the way, did you ever know why it was that
our bakers started making rolls in the shape of crescents? (KRUG _shakes
his head_.) It was intended as an expression of our contempt for the
Turks. (_He is holding up a crescent roll while he talks._)

        KRUG

Was it really! (_He takes a bite of a roll, and munches it reflectively,
as though appreciating for the first time its full flavor._)

        RUDOLF

Oh, I could tell you many similar facts of historical importance. For
instance--about the Serbian pigs . . .

        ELENA (_interrupting_)

I've forgotten whether you take sugar.

        RUDOLF (_gazing at her_)

So have I.

(_Old_ KRUG _laughs heartily_.)

        ELENA

Father! What are you laughing at?

        KRUG

He said he'd forgotten if he takes sugar.

        RUDOLF

I don't blame you for laughing! I don't blame you a bit. It was a
fatuous remark.

        KRUG

What?

        RUDOLF

A very silly remark. As a matter of fact, I take three lumps. (_They all
laugh at that._)

        ELENA (_to_ KRUG)

He's a fool, isn't he?

        KRUG

I should say that he is! Why, do you know what he said about the
morning? He said it was like a lot of Chinamen! (_He laughs
uproariously. So do_ ELENA _and_ RUDOLF. . . . _The merriment is
interrupted when_ ANTON _comes in, accompanied by_ POFFY.)

        ANTON

Good morning.

        ELENA

Anton! (_She rises and crosses to_ ANTON.)

        KRUG (_pointing to_ RUDOLF)

Look at _this_, Anton . . .

        RUDOLF

Before any one else breaks the news, permit me to announce that I have
devoured the kidneys.

        ELENA

Kathie will cook some more. Sit down, Anton--and you too, Poffy.

        ANTON

No, I've already had a huge breakfast at the Hotel Lucher. But I'm
afraid this gentleman hasn't. He has been standing out in the street all
night.

        RUDOLF

Why in heaven's name have you been doing _that?_

        POFFY

The police were still there, and I thought I might be needed.

        RUDOLF

And you were ready to die for your Prince. Such gallantry must not pass
unnoticed. (_He unpins a medal from his coat and tosses it to_ POFFY,
_who catches it_.)

        KRUG (_wide-eyed_)

Did you _see_ that!

        RUDOLF

You say you've been at Lucher's?

        ANTON

Yes.

        RUDOLF

Is the party still going on?

        ANTON

Oh Lord, yes. They all entertained me at breakfast.

        ELENA

How are they now?

        ANTON

They're getting a little sleepy.

        RUDOLF (_to old_ KRUG)

Then let's rush over and wake them up!

(KRUG _starts up, hopefully_.)

        ANTON

I'm afraid we can't. I mean, you and I.

        RUDOLF

Oh!

        ANTON

We have to start immediately for Passau, where you will be allowed to
cross the frontier. There's a government car downstairs.

        RUDOLF

I see.

        ANTON

I hate to drag you away.

        RUDOLF (_rising_)

But it's necessary. Of course it is. Do I have to wear that cape and
that hat?

        ELENA

Yes--help him, father.

(_Rising_, KRUG _throws his napkin down_.)

        KRUG

Oh, _dear!_ Now he has to _go!_

        ELENA

But why do you have to go with him, Anton?

        RUDOLF

I flatly refuse to hear of such a thing! I will not take you away from
your duties, your home. Poffy will escort me.

        POFFY

I should be delighted to.

        ANTON

No. I have given my word that I myself will see you depart from Austria.
The authorities wished me to explain that they will take extraordinary
precautions to see that you do not return.

        RUDOLF

I don't blame them. I don't blame them a bit. . . . Thank you. (_This to
old_ KRUG, _who has brought him his hat and cape_.)

        ANTON (_to_ ELENA)

I shan't be back much before evening. Will you tell Zenzi to cancel all
my engagements for to-day?

        ELENA

Yes, Anton. I'll tell her. And I'll send word to the university.

        RUDOLF

A dutiful wife, Herr Professor. I commend her to you--and you to her. It
is a remarkable union, and it will give me satisfaction to the end of my
days to think that perhaps I, in my small way, have contributed
something to it.

        ELENA

It's time to go, Rudolf.

        RUDOLF

I know it is. But before I depart, Herr Professor, let me say that I
call your roof tree blessed! For beneath it, a Habsburg has been
entertained--royally entertained--and has been granted, into the
bargain, a superb demonstration of applied psychology. . . . Good-bye,
Elena. (_He kisses her hand._) No wistful tears, please. (_He crosses
to_ POFFY, _who bows and kisses_ RUDOLF'S _hand_.) Good-bye, Poffy. If
you sell that medal for a sou less than a thousand francs, I shall be
insulted. (RUDOLF _slaps_ POFFY _on the back and crosses to old_ KRUG,
_who is by the door at the right_.) Good-bye, my dear friend. Think of
me in the mornings. (_He kisses old_ KRUG _on both cheeks and goes out
at the right_. POFFY _and_ KRUG _go up to the window_.)

        ANTON (_to_ ELENA)

There'll be no trouble. . . .

        ELENA

Anton--there's something I want to say . . .

        ANTON (_hastily_)

No, there isn't, Elena. You have nothing to say to me. I have only to
look at you. (_He takes her hand._) I must hurry. . . .

        ELENA

Yes, Anton--but I wanted to say--when you get to the frontier, ask him
to give you back my wedding ring.

        ANTON

I shall. And I left a package for you in the hall. Frau Lucher gave it
to me. It's your white dress. (_He kisses_ ELENA'S _hand and goes out_.)

        KRUG (_at the window_)

A government car--with the shades drawn!

(ELENA _goes over to the table and sits down, wilfully indifferent to
old_ KRUG'S _excited reports of what is happening in the street below_.)


        ELENA

Sit down, Poffy, and have some breakfast. You must be famished.

        POFFY (_crossing to the table_)

I rather imagine that I am. (POFFY _sits down_. ELENA _looks at the
empty dish_.)

        KRUG

They're just starting--and the policeman is saluting them!

        ELENA

All the kidneys are gone. . . . Father! Ring the bell. I'll tell Kathie
to cook some more.

        KRUG

Enough for me, too? (_Pressing the bell button._)

        ELENA

Of course.

        KRUG

Good! (_He is ambling over to the table._)

        ELENA (_pouring coffee_)

Cream?

        POFFY

No, thanks, Elena. I've got out of the habit of cream. (_She hands him
the cup._)

        KRUG

You know, Elena--I've never, in all my life, had so much fun!

        ELENA

Neither have I. (_She smiles at old_ KRUG, _then sips her coffee_.)


                             CURTAIN




TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE

The following changes were made to the original text:

Page 8: changed off-stage to offstage
Page 17: changed fireplace to fire-place
Page 39: changed Good-by to Good-bye
Page 75: changed downstage to down-stage and changed Upstage to Up-stage

Other than changing the capitalization of some of the character names,
minor variations in spelling and punctuation have been preserved.




[End of _Reunion in Vienna_ by Robert Emmet Sherwood]
