Morituri: Three One-Act Plays Part 22

Well, I had to unsaddle, and anyhow have ridden four and a half miles.

It was only the question whether I should feed the horse at Braun's at the entrance where one gets merely water or----

Major.

Of course you are right about that.

Frau von Drosse (_stroking his hands_).

See what brown hands the boy has got.... I wonder how they can be burned through the gloves ... Just look, Richard, he has the white mark on his forehead, there where it is shaded. The last time, it was not there. My boy, my boy! (_Bends down her head and kisses him on the forehead_.)

(Fritz _closes his eyes and utters a low whimpering exclamation of pain_.)

Frau von Drosse.

What was it? Did I hurt you, my boy?

Fritz (_with embarra.s.sed laughter_).

Oh, no--no!

Major.

Control yourself, Fritz!

Fritz.

Yes, father!

Frau von Drosse.

Let him alone, Richard! Remember he has to leave directly.

Fritz (_staring straight before him_).

Yes, I must go directly.

Major (_shaking his head, examines him_).

Remarkable!

Agnes (_who returns with a bottle and gla.s.ses_).

There is the wine, dear Fritz.

Fritz.

Ah, if only the wine is there! (_Hurries to the table and pours the wine_.) Does no one touch gla.s.ses with me?

Major.

Just wait, I will touch gla.s.ses with you.

Fritz.

Then long life to us, friends! May we live happily.... Long may we live.... (_Musing_.) May we live as long as possible!

Major.

But you are not drinking.

Fritz.

Yes, yes. (_Tosses down a gla.s.s_.)

Major.

Well, I should like to take this occasion to ask you just why you don't write to us any more.

Frau von Drosse.

Please, Richard, please say nothing to him--he telegraphed.

Fritz (_starting anxiously_).

Telegraphed? What did I telegraph?

(Major _makes signals to him behind his mother's back_.)

Fritz.

Yes, of course. You see, father, I telegraphed.... And then, not long ago, I fell from the trapeze and sprained my arm a bit.

Frau von Drosse.

You see, Richard, that is what hurt him just now; and yet you scolded him.

Fritz.

Mamma, father is right.... A soldier is not allowed to show signs of pain--he has no pain. That is something which doesn't happen, it is something which doesn't happen at all, does it, Agnes?

Agnes.

Why do you ask _me_, Fritz?

Major.

Remarkable!... You know, darling, the boy would like something to eat.

In such cases, you always see to it yourself--eh?