_The coast of Samland. The background slopes upward at right and left to wooded hills. Between them is a gorge, behind which the sea glitters. In the right foreground are graves with wooden head-boards and crosses, overgrown with shrubbery. At the left is a stout watch-tower with a door in it. Common household furniture stands about the threshold._ Scene I. Hans Lorbass _seated on a grave with spade and shovel, a freshly dug mound behind him._ _Hans Lorbass_ [_sings_]. Behind a juniper bush, On a night in July warm and red, Was my poor mother of me brought to bed [_Speaking_]. And knew not how. Behind a juniper bush, Between cock's crow and morning red, I struck in drink my father dead, [_Speaking_]. And knew not who. Behind a juniper bush, When all the vermin have had their bite, I'll stretch myself out and give up the fight [_Speaking_]. Still I know not when. Yet one thing I know: anywhere hereabouts, a mile-stone or a cross-roads will do very well some day; I do not need a juniper bush. Let us say a garden hedge, that is a pleasant spot. If some day it should come into my head to lie down beneath one, in the tall grass, nearby a grave, and quietly turn my back on this dry, burnt-out old world, who--a plague upon him--would have aught to say against it? Here I sit and munch my crusts, and hold carouse--on water; [_getting up_] here I stand and dig graves, a free-will servant to weakness. I dig the graves of the unnamed, unknown, when icy waves toss them rotting on the shore, tangled in slimy sea-weed. Once all my thoughts were wont to follow on the foeman's path, to cleave him through with my blithely swinging sword, to carve my path straight through the solid rock; yet now I stand here and smile submission at a woman. But I bide my time until my master comes again knocking to set me free from my graveyard prison and breathe new life into my frame. Him at whose side I once stood guardian-like with fiercest zeal, him will I serve again with all my love and life, and follow like a dog.... Like a dog, yes, but like a master, too. For it is strength alone that wins the day at last, in all the brave deeds done upon this earth. And only he who laughs can win. The victory is never to the weakling whiner, nor to the man whose rage can master him; as little does it crown the man whose mind is woman-ruled; but less than these and least of all will it bless him who dreams away his life. For that I stole and sweated to secure,--his future good,--for that I sit now fixed firm within his soul,--I his servant and avenger! Here comes the old one. Never yet have I owned myself conquered by any soul on earth.... And yet--when she comes peering into my affairs, I feel as though I might become--I don't know