ELEVENTH SCENE.

TEJA. Afterward BALTHILDA. (TEJA left alone, throws himself on his couch, staring straight before him with a bitter, wearied smile. BALTHILDA enters shyly. In one hand she carries a basket containing meat, bread, and fruits; in the other, a golden tankard of wine. She advances a few steps toward the table.)

Teja (half rising).

Who art thou?

Balthilda (feebly and timidly).

Knowest thou me not, King?

Teja (rising from his couch).

The torches burn dimly.... Thy voice I have heard before!... What wilt thou of me?

Balthilda.

I am indeed thy wife, King.

Teja (after a silence).

And what wilt thou of me?

Balthilda.

My mother sendeth me. I am to bring thee food and wine. The others eat and drink, and so my mother saith---- (She stops.)

Teja.

How didst thou enter here?... Did not the watch forbid thee to enter?

Balthilda (drawing herself up).

I am the Queen, Sire.

Teja.

Yea, verily. And Ildibad, what said he?

Balthilda.

Thy old spearbearer lay and slept. I stepped across him, Sire.

Teja.

I thank thee, Balthilda.... I am not hungry. I thank thee. (Silence. Balthilda stands and looks tearfully at him.)

Teja.

I see, thou hast still a request to make of me. I pray thee, speak!

Balthilda.

My King, if I return home with a well-filled basket, then shall I be mocked by all the women.... And the men shall say----

Teja (smiling).

And what shall the men say?

Balthilda.

He esteemeth her so little that--he consenteth not to take food from her hand.

Teja.

On my word, I assure thee, Balthilda, the men have other things to think on ... yet nevertheless ... reproach thou shalt not suffer through me. Set thy basket there.... Have ye still much of such things?

Balthilda.

Sire, these two weeks have my mother and I and the women about us put aside the best of our share--flour and fruits--and the fowls have we not killed till this very day.

Teja.

Then indeed must ye have been mightily hungry, ye women?

Balthilda.

Ah, it hath done us no hurt, Sire.... It was for a feast.

Teja.

In truth? Ye believed we should celebrate a feast to-day?

Balthilda.

Well ... is it then not a feast, Sire?

Teja.

(Is silent and bites his nether lip, examining her furtively.) Wilt thou not be seated, Balthilda?... I should not yet let thee go home! That too would be a reproach, would it not?

(Balthilda is silent and looks down.)

Teja.

And if I bade thee, wouldst thou wish to stay?

Balthilda.

Sire, how should a wife not wish to stay beside her husband?

Teja.

Hast thou then the feeling in thy heart, that I--am--thy--husband?

Balthilda.

Indeed, how could it be otherwise? The Bishop hath joined us together.

Teja.

And wert thou glad when he did it?

Balthilda.

Yea.... Nay, I was not glad then.

Teja.

Why not?

Balthilda (with a bright glance).

Perhaps because, because ... I was afraid, Sire, and I was praying.

Teja.

What didst thou pray?

Balthilda.

That God would grant to me, his humble handmaid, the power to bring thee the happiness which thou needest, and which thou awaitest from me.

Teja.

Which I from thee--that didst thou pray?

Balthilda.

Sire, may I not offer thee the food, and the wine?

Teja.

Nay, nay!... Hearken, Balthilda: without, by our fires, are warriors--they are hungry--I am not hungry.

Balthilda.

Sire, give them what thou pleasest ... give them everything!

Teja.

I thank thee, Balthilda. (Raising the curtain.) Ho there, watch! Come in, but prudently so as not to wake the old man.... (Watcher enters.) Here, take this basket with food and wine, and divide it honestly.... Say your Queen sends it.

Watcher.

May I thank the Queen, Sire?

(Teja nods. Watcher shakes her hand heartily. Exit.)

Teja.

Go--and bring me to eat!

Balthilda (perplexed).

Sire--why--mockest thou--me?

Teja.

Dost thou then not understand me? If thou wilt be my wife, thou must offer me my property, not thine!

Balthilda.

Is not all of mine thy property, Sire?

Teja.

Hm! (Silence. He takes her hands.) Call me not Sire and call me not King.... Knowest thou not my name?

Balthilda.

Thy name is Teja!

Teja.

Say it yet once again! Balthilda (softly, turning away). Teja!

Teja.

Is the name so strange to thee? (Balthilda shakes her head.)

Teja.

Then why hesitate?

Balthilda.

Not for that, Sire! Since I knew that I was to serve thee as thy wife, I have often named thee by day and in the night. Only I never said it aloud....

Teja.

And before thou knewest it, what was then thy thought?

Balthilda.

Sire, why dost thou ask?

Teja.

And why dost thou not answer?

Balthilda.

Sire, when I heard of thy bloody commands, and the others feared thee--then I often thought: How unhappy must he be that the destiny of the Goths compelleth him to such deeds!

Teja.

That hast thou thought?--That hast thou----?

Balthilda.

Sire, was it wrong that I should think it?

Teja.

Thou hadst never seen my face, and thou didst understand me? And they who were around me, the wise men and tried soldiers, they understood me not!... Who art thou, woman? Who hath taught thee to read my heart? Thee, thee alone of all?

Balthilda.

Sire--I----

Teja.

All shuddered and muttering hid themselves from me in corners--and saw not the way, the only way which haply might still have saved them. When the butcher's knife was already at their throat, they still told themselves some tale of compromise. And then came the crafty Greeks, measured themselves with them, and killed them one by one. Thus perished the hundred thousand. And I wrapped myself in grief and anger--I cast hope away from me like a bloody rag, I sprang into the breach with scornful laughter. I sowed horrors about me, when my own heart was convulsed with horror of myself. I have not once been drunk with all the blood. I have killed, killed, and still knew all the while: it is in vain! (He sinks to his seat overcome with anguish, and stares straight before him.)

Balthilda (with a shy attempt at a caress).

My poor dear King! Dear Teja!

Teja.

(Raises his head and looks confusedly around him.) My God, what do I here?... Why do I tell all this to thee? Thou must not despise me because I am such a babbler.... Nor must thou believe that it is aught of remorse that compels me to this confession.... Perhaps I feel pity for the victims, but my conscience stands high above all that!... Far higher than my poor Gothic throne.... Look not upon me so.... There is in thy eye something that compels me to reveal my inmost thought to thee.... Who hath endued thee with this power over me?... Begone!... Nay, stay ... Stay! I wish to tell thee yet something, quite in secret, before thou goest.... Besides, I should not cry out so, otherwise the watch may hear.... Incline thine ear to me. Never yet have I confessed it to any man, nor have I held it possible that I should ever confess it.... I bear an envy within me which devoureth my heart, whenever I think--knowest thou toward whom?... Toward Totilas.... Yea, toward Totilas in his grave.... They called him the "shining" Totilas and their affection still cleaveth to him to-day.... Their eyes still flash when they even think of him.

Balthilda.

Ah, Sire, how thou dost fret thyself!

Teja (anxiously).

Didst thou ever see him?

Balthilda.

Never.

Teja.

God be thanked! For hadst thou ever seen him as I saw him on the morning of the battle in which he fell ... arrayed in golden armour ... and the white steed pranced beneath him, and his yellow locks streamed like sunlight about him. And he laughed the foe in the face.... Laughed like a child!... Ah, laughing to die like him!

Balthilda.

His lot was easy, Sire! He went from hence, but left to thee as an inheritance the half-destroyed kingdom.... How shouldst thou then have laughed?

Teja (eagerly).

Is it not so?--Is it not so?--How ... Ah, that doeth good! (Stretching himself.) Ah, thou doest me good!

Balthilda.

How proud thou makest me, Sire!

Teja.

But hadst thou seen him and compared him to me, thou wouldst spit upon me! Balthilda (fervently). I should have seen only thee, Sire dear, dear Sire!

(Teja looks askance at her, shyly and distrustfully, then walks silently to the left, sinks down before the seat on the throne, and burying his face in the chair, weeps bitterly.)

Balthilda.

(Follows him shyly and kneels down beside him.) Teja, beloved, if I hurt thee, pardon me!

Teja (rises and grasps her arm).

Tell it to no one!

Balthilda.

What, Sire?

Teja.

That thou hast seen me weep! Swear it to me!

Balthilda.

It hath been told me that I am now even as a piece of thy body--and of thy soul also!... Wherefore should I swear?

Teja.

If thou art a piece of my body, then come nearer to me, that thou mayst not see my tears.

Balthilda.

Let me dry them for thee! See, for this cause am I here.

Teja.

Ah, 'tis well with me.... I must indeed have died of shame, for never yet hath a Gothic man been seen to weep. Even when we buried Totilas, we wept not.... Yet I am not ashamed.... If I but knew why suddenly it is so well with me!... Balthilda, I will tell thee something. But thou must not laugh me to scorn.

Balthilda.

How should I laugh at thee, beloved?

Teja.

I am hungry.

Balthilda (springing up in surprise).

Alas, surely thou hast given everything away!

Teja.

Oh, by no means! Go just over there, wilt thou? (She obeys.) Behind my couch--seest thou the fireplace?

Balthilda.

Here where the ashes lie?

Teja.

There standeth a chest?

Balthilda.

Yea.

Teja.

Wilt thou open the lid?

Balthilda.

Ah, it is heavy!

Teja.

Now feel within! Deep, deep!... There Ildibad the old miser--well?

Balthilda (disappointedly).

A couple of bread crusts; is that all, Sire?

Teja.

There is indeed nothing more.

Balthilda.

May I not then go quickly over to the Wagenburg?... Perhaps still ...

Teja.

Oh nay.... They themselves need the fragments.... Bring that hither! As brothers we shall share it--eh? And then there is sufficient for both. Wilt thou?

Balthilda.

Yea. (She sits beside him.)

Teja.

So, now give to me! Ah, that is good to the taste! Is it not good to the taste? But ah, thou also must eat.

Balthilda.

I fear there is not enough for thee.

Teja.

Nay, that is against the agreement.... So.... Is it not good to the taste?

Balthilda.

To me nothing hath ever tasted half so sweet.

Teja.

Pray come nearer to me ... I will take the crumbs from thy lap ... So--why is it that suddenly I am hungry? See, now we celebrate our marriage feast.

Balthilda.

And better than those without, with meat and wine--do we not?

Teja.

Well, did I not tell thee?... But thou hast a bad seat!

Balthilda.

Nay, I am seated well!

Teja.

Come, stand up! Pray, stand up! Balthilda (rising). Well?

Teja.

Sit there, just above! Balthilda (terrified). Upon the throne--for God's sake--how dare I----?

Teja.

Art thou not then the Queen? Balthilda (decidedly). If I must sit there in earnest! But in jest--nay!

Teja.

Ah, the stupid bit of wood! (He hurls down the throne.) At least it should be of use for something!... So now lean against it!

Balthilda.

Beloved, doest thou justly?

Teja (surprised).

Nay! (He sets the throne up again, leads her to her former place, and places her head against the seat.) There indeed thou art well seated--yea!... And we trespass not against this trash. If the Bishop had seen that--he, ha, ha, ha! Wait, I will eat again!

Balthilda.

There, take!

Teja.

Still--remain quite still! I shall fetch it for myself. (He kneels upon the podium beside her.) Now I am quite upon my knees before thee.... What is there that we do not learn!... Thou art beautiful!... I never knew my mother!

Balthilda.

Never knew!

Teja.

Never had a sister.... No one.... Never played in my life.... That I am surely learning last not least.

Balthilda.

Why last not least?

Teja.

Ask not--nay? Ah thou, thou! Ha, ha, ha! Pray eat! Bite from mine--yea? Obediently--thou knowest what the Bishop said?

Balthilda (bites and then springs up).

But wilt thou not also drink?

Teja.

Ah, surely! Bring me only the milk jar! Bring me only the milk jar.... Thou knowest the one that Ildibad told us of.

Balthilda (who has walked across).

Is this the one?

Teja (rising).

That is indeed it. But thou also must drink.

Balthilda.

Is it fitting so?

Teja.

I know not. It should be!

Balthilda.

So be it, then. (She drinks and shakes with laughter.) Ugh! That hath a bad taste.

Teja.

Give it to me. (He drinks.) Nay! (He drinks again.) Go!... Art thou then such a despiser of nourishment?... Yea, who art thou then? And how comest thou hither? And just what wilt thou of me?

Balthilda.

I will love thee!

Teja.

Thou--my wife! Thou ... (They fly into one another's arms. Softly.) And wilt thou not kiss me?

(Balthilda shakes her head, ashamed.)

Teja.

Why not?

(Balthilda again shakes her head.)

Teja.

Yet tell me, why not?

Balthilda.

I will tell thee in thine ear.

Teja.

Well?

Balthilda.

Thou hast a downy beard.^[1]

Teja.

(Wipes his month in terror, then in assumed anger.) What have I? Knowest thou not who I am? How then dost thou suffer thyself to tell thy King he--say it yet once more! I will but see.

Balthilda (laughing).

A--downy--beard.

Teja (laughing).

Now, wait!