The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 09: Friedrich Hebbel and Otto Ludwig
General
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 09: Friedrich Hebbel and Otto Ludwig
German literature -- 19th century -- Translations into English; German literature -- 20th century -- Translations into English
And the priest says God lurks in wine! [_He drinks._] Let us see who is
right! The bailiff was here at the house--how did he behave himself?
CLARA.
As if he had been in a den of thieves. No sooner had he opened his mouth
than mother fell over and was dead!
CARL.
Good! If you hear tomorrow that the fellow has been found dead, then do
not curse the murderer!
CLARA.
Surely you are not going to--
CARL.
Am I his only enemy? Has he not been often attacked already? Among so
many it might be difficult to find the right man to attribute the deed
to, unless he left his cane or hat on the spot! [_He drinks._] Whoever
it is: Good success to him!
CLARA.
Brother, you talk--
CARL.
Don't you like it? Never mind! You will not see me very much longer!
CLARA (_shudders with terror_).
No!
CARL.
No? So you know already that I am going to sea? Do my thoughts crawl
around on my forehead, that you can read them so easily? Or did the old
man fly into a passion in his old way and threaten to shut me out of the
house? Bah! That would be very much the same thing as if the jailer had
sworn to me: You shall not stay in prison any longer--I am going to
shove you out into the open again!
CLARA.
You do not understand me!
CARL (_sings_).
A ship lies in the offing,
A-sporting with the winds.
Yes indeed, there is nothing to bind me to the bench here any longer!
Mother is dead, there is no longer any one to stop eating fish after
every storm, and that has been my wish from boyhood. Away! I shall not
prosper here--at least not until I know for sure that luck no longer
favors the brave fellow who stakes his life on the game, who throws back
onto the table the copper coin that he has received from the great
treasure, in order to see whether luck will pocket it or return it to
him gilded!
CLARA.
And are you going away to leave your father all alone? He is sixty years
old!
CARL.
Alone? Aren't you going to be left?
CLARA.
I?
CARL.
You! His pet child! What sort of weeds are growing in your head
that you ask me that? By going, I leave his joy with him and free him of
his everlasting annoyance! Why shouldn't I do it? Once and for all we
cannot get along together. He can't get things contracted enough to suit
him. He would like to close his fist and creep inside it. I would like
to strip off my skin like a baby's coat--if it were only practicable!
[_Sings_]
The anchor they are heaving,
I trow they'll soon be leaving,
Now look! Away she spins.
Tell me yourself: Did he doubt my guilt for a single instant? And did he
not find the usual consolation in his over-wise: "Just as I expected!"
"I have always thought so!" "It could not end in any other way!" If it
had been you, he would have killed himself! I should like to see him if
you were to suffer a woman's fate! It would be to him as if he himself
had become pregnant--and by the devil besides!
CLARA.
Oh, what anguish! Yes, I must go! Away!
CARL.
What do you mean by that?
CLARA.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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