Volume 9 / Act 1 — SCENE VII
Reading edition
Enter ADAM, a Bailiff; another Bailiff.
ADAM (to Master ANTONY).
Now, you just go ahead and pay your wager! No people in red coats with blue trimmings [with emphasis] shall ever enter your house, eh?—Well, here are two of us!
[To the other bailiff.]
Why don't you keep your hat on, as I do? Who is going to observe formalities among people of his own class?
ANTONY.
Your own class? You blackguard!
ADAM.
You are right—we are not among our own class! Scoundrels and thieves are not of our class! [Points to the dresser.] Open that up! And then three steps away—so that you can't sneak anything out of it!
ANTONY.
What? What?
CLARA (enters with things to set the table).
Shall I—[She stops, speechless.]
ADAM (exhibits a paper).
Can you read writing?
ANTONY.
Should I be able to do what even my schoolmaster could not do?
ADAM.
Then listen! Your son has stolen some jewelry! We have the thief already! Now we are here to search the house!
MOTHER (falls down and dies).
Oh, God!
CLARA.
Mother! Mother! How her eyes roll!
LEONARD.
I will fetch a doctor!
ANTONY.
Not necessary! That is the last look! I have seen it a hundred times! Good night, Theresa! You died when you heard it! Let them write that on your gravestone!
LEONARD.
But perhaps it is [starts to go]—awful! But lucky for me!
[Exit.]
ANTONY (pulls a bunch of keys from his pocket and throws them down).
There! Unlock everything! Drawer after drawer! Bring the ax! The key to the trunk is lost! Ha! Scoundrels and thieves! [He turns his pockets inside out.] I find nothing here!
SECOND BAILIFF.
Master Antony, calm yourself! Everybody knows that you are the most honest man in town!
ANTONY.
So? So?
[Laughs.]
Yes,
I have used up all the honesty in the family! There, poor boy! There was none left for him! She too [points to the dead body] was much too virtuous!—Who knows whether or not the daughter—[Suddenly to CLARA]
What do you think, my innocent child?
CLARA.
Father!
SECOND BAILIFF (to ADAM).
Have you no pity?
ADAM.
Pity? Am I prying into the old fellow's pockets? Am I forcing him to take off his stockings and turn his shoes inside out? I meant to start out with doing that—for I hate him like poison, ever since that time in the tavern when he—you know what I refer to, and you would feel insulted too, if you had any self respect about you!
[To CLARA.]
Where is your brother's room?
CLARA (points).
Back there!
[Both Bailiffs, exeunt.]
CLARA.
Father, he is innocent! He must be innocent! He is your son, my brother!
ANTONY.
Innocent, and a matricide?
[Laughs.]
A MAID (enters with a letter to CLARA).
From the cashier, Mr. Leonard.
ANTONY.
You need not read it! He declares himself free of you!
[Claps his hands.]
Bravo, scoundrel
CLARA (reads it).
Yes! Yes! Oh, my God
ANTONY.
Let him go!
CLARA.
Father, father, I cannot—
ANTONY.
You cannot? Cannot? What do you mean? Are you?—
Both BAILIFFS reenter.
ADAM (spitefully).
Seek and ye shall find!
SECOND BAILIFF (to ADAM).
What do you mean by that? Did it turn out so today?
ADAM.
Hold your tongue!
[Exeunt both.]
ANTONY.
He is innocent—and you—you—
CLARA.
Father, you are terrible!
ANTONY (grasps her hand very gently).
Dear daughter, Carl is only a bungler. He has killed his mother, and what does it mean? His father remains alive! So, come to his aid—you cannot ask him to do everything alone. You must make an end of me! The old trunk still looks rugged, doesn't it? But it has begun to totter already—it will not cost you much trouble to fell it! You need not reach for the ax. You have a pretty face—I have never praised you, but today I will tell you, so that you may acquire courage and confidence. Your eyes, nose, mouth are surely admired! Become—You understand me?—Or tell me, I have an idea that you are already—
CLARA (almost crazy, throws herself with uplifted arms at the feet of her mother, and cries out like a child).
Mother! Mother!
ANTONY.
Take your mother's hand and swear to me that you are what you should be!
CLARA.
I—swear—that—I—will—never—bring—disgrace-on—you!
ANTONY.
Good!
[He puts on his hat.]
It is beautiful weather! We will go out and run the gauntlet! Up the street! Down the street!
[Exeunt.]