HELMS. Of course I don't. It's you that's been putting such things in my
head. You don't know what you are talking about.
KRAKAU. I know what I know.
HELMS [_pounds on the table_]. Who was he then? Speak up or admit that
you are a filthy liar.
KRAKAU [_with sudden determination_]. I was her father. Now you know it.
HELMS [_derisively_]. You!... Ha, ha, ha!... You! God knows how you hit
on that idea. Do tell us about it.
KRAKAU [_savagely; he is on his own side of the room now_]. Yes, I'll
tell you about it.... With pleasure, my dear Helms!... I had made up my
mind to carry the secret with me to the grave ... but I can't stand your
overbearing ways any more.... Now it comes out.... And thank God for
it.... You were a devil to your wife and you have been a devil to me,
Helms, all the fifteen years we have lived in this room.
HELMS. Ha, ha! So I've been a devil, eh? The things one lives and
learns!
KRAKAU. Yes, a devil--a devil on wheels. You whine and crow and fuss and
scold ... nothing suits you ... no matter how hard I try ... and you are
mean and niggardly.... Every pfennig must be pulled out of you like a
tooth.
HELMS. I don't throw my money in the street.
KRAKAU. Nobody throws his money in the street, but you can't get along
without spending money, can you?
HELMS. No.
KRAKAU. No, but you expected Caroline to. Instead of money you gave her
compliments. Naturally she came to me for help. She had to have pin
money and clothes.
HELMS. And you gave her money.
KRAKAU. Of course I did.
HELMS. Yes, what then?
KRAKAU. Of course it was humiliating to her. She was very unhappy. I did
my best to console her.
HELMS. And then Andrea was born.
KRAKAU. Yes.
HELMS [_bitterly_]. That was ... that was powerful consolation, Krakau,
I must say.... But tell me how you are so sure that Andrea was your
daughter.
KRAKAU. Caroline told me herself. Besides, didn't I know that she had
lived with you ten years before and never had a child.
HELMS [_pathetically_]. No. [_With a flash of anger._] Why didn't you
tell me this before?
KRAKAU [_who is half sorry now_]. Why should I have told you?
HELMS [_without heeding him; mumbles half to himself, shaking his
head_]. And if she was your daughter, then Knut is your grandson and you
are also his godfather ... and to me he is nothing [_bows his head_]. I
am eighty years old to-day, Krakau.... It is hard to be told such a
thing when you are eighty....
KRAKAU [_has gone over to him, sympathetically touching his shoulder_].
I'm sorry, Helms. I wish I hadn't told you. But you made me so angry it
just popped out.... But don't worry ... everything will be just the same
as before--
HELMS [_shakes his head mournfully_]. No.
KRAKAU. But yes! I don't want him all for myself. We can share him,
can't we?
HELMS. Share him?
KRAKAU. Of course. Instead of being your grandson Knut will be _our_
grandson, that's all.
HELMS [_sits up proudly_]. Knut is nothing to me.
KRAKAU. But nobody knows that.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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