Volume 9 / Act 4 — SCENE IV
Reading edition
The same. Enter WILLIAM.
FORESTER (seated on the right of the stage).
Come here, William. Where did you leave Andrew?
WILLIAM.
I waited for him a quarter of an hour at the Boundary Inn.
FORESTER.
Perhaps he thought you were coming later—
SOPHY (aside).
Andrew has not come back with him? I can't get my uncle's words out of my head.
[MARY lights the lamp and puts it on the table by the FORESTER.]
FORESTER.
Did you ask the lawyer how long it would be before the matter is settled? Till I have my rights?
WILLIAM.
He refuses to institute proceedings.
SOPHY (drawing a deep breath; aside).
Then there is still some hope left!
FORESTER (rises; quite perplexed).
He refuses—
WILLIAM.
He says you are not in the right, father.
FORESTER.
Not in the right?
[Is obliged to sit down.]
SOPHY (as before).
If he only would yield.
WILLIAM.
He said state officials could not be deposed, unless it could be proved against them that they deserved it. But you were not a state official; your master was not the state, but he who owned the forest, the owner of the estate.
FORESTER (with suppressed anger).
Then, if I were an official of the state, Stein would not be allowed to do me an injustice. And because I am not, he is allowed to brand me as a scoundrel?—You did not understand him rightly, William!
WILLIAM.
He repeated it to me three times—
FORESTER.
Because you did not represent the matter to him as it is—that already your great-grandfather had been forester of Düsterwalde, and your grandfather after him, and that for forty years, throughout the whole valley, people have called me the Hereditary Forester.
WILLIAM.
That, he said, was an honor to both masters and servants; but before the court nothing could be based on it.
FORESTER.
But he does not know that Stein wants to depose me, because I had his best interests at heart, that the forest is exposed on the north and west. A lawyer does not know that a forest is like a vault, where one stone always holds and supports the others. Thus the vault can withstand any force, but take out only a dozen stones from the centre, and the whole thing comes tumbling about your ears.
WILLIAM.
At such arguments he only shrugged his shoulders.
FORESTER (growing more excited).
And my money that I have put into it? And all the trees that I planted with my own hands? Hey? Which the wind now shall wantonly break?
WILLIAM.
At that he only smiled. He said you might be a very honest man, but in court that would prove nothing.
FORESTER (rises).
If one is an honest man, that proves nothing? Then one must be a rascal, if he is to prove anything in court?—But how about Rupert of Erdmansgrün—hey, William?
WILLIAM.
He happened to have been a state official. After I had left him, I even went to another lawyer. This man laughed right in my face. But to that fellow I spoke my mind like a hunter's son.
FORESTER.
You did well. But what about Andrew? Hey?
WILLIAM.
He said that you had been deposed at the time that Andrew went into the forest. You ought to know yourself that no stranger is allowed to take plants from a forest according to his own inclination, without the knowledge and consent of the forester. That then Godfrey was the lawful forester, and consequently Andrew had no one to blame but himself, if he was treated as a poacher. And that Andrew himself must understand it would be wiser to take his punishment quietly, and not stir up the matter any further; and he might be glad to have come off so easily.
[The FORESTER has seated himself again; pauses; then whistles, and drums on the table.]
SOPHY (watching him with anxiety).
When he becomes so calm—
FORESTER.
So I must remain a scoundrel before the world? Very well!—Why don't you pack your things, you women-folk? William, get me a bottle of wine.
SOPHY.
You are going to drink wine? And you know it is not good for you, Ulrich? And just now, in your present state of vexation—
FORESTER.
I must get my mind off the subject.
SOPHY.
You always become so excited after wine. If you drink now it may be your death.
FORESTER.
Better to drink oneself to death than live as a scoundrel! And a scoundrel I must remain before the world. William, a bottle and a glass. Have matters come to that pass, that I am no longer master in my own house? Hurry up, there!
[Exit WILLIAM.]
SOPHY.
If only you would change your mind! But you will not do it, and—I must leave you.
FORESTER.
That matter is settled, woman, and my resolution is taken. None of your lamentations! Tomorrow I am going. Since I am not an official of the State and—today I intend to be right jolly.
[WILLIAM brings wine; the FORESTER pours out and drinks repeatedly, every time a full glass. Between glasses he whistles and drums.]
FORESTER.
Put that light away, so that I may not see my shadow.
[WILLIAM puts the lamp on the table near the women, seats himself by them and takes the still opened Bible before him.]
SOPHY (aside and to Mary).
Andrew still stays out, and it has been dark for a long while. And tomorrow I must go. Now I say indeed: I must go; and yet I am not sure that, when the moment comes, I shall have the strength of mind to carry out my intention—after we have lived together for twenty years, sharing joys and sorrows! And to say farewell to the forest with its green leaves which all day long looks into every window! How still it will seem to us, when during the entire day we no longer shall hear the rustling of the trees, the singing of the birds, and the sound of the wood-cutter's ax. And the old cuckoo-clock there—it was ticking when I was a bride, and now you too have been betrothed here! There in that corner you raised yourself on your feet for the first time, Mary, and began to walk, and took three steps; and there where your father is sitting, I sat and wept for joy. Is that what life is? An everlasting bidding farewell? If, after all, I were to remain? And yet when I think of all the things uncle said might happen! If Robert's letter—William, please go into the garden. I must have left the glass by the spring, or in the arbor or somewhere thereabouts.
[Exit WILLIAM.]