FIRST YOUNG MAN (going towards CARL and MAX): Messieurs, may I beg you to come forward? I think my friend has already acquainted you with the rules of the cotillion. So, if you will permit, I will introduce you to the charming Yseult de la Vallière.
(They go with him, and pass by her: to MAX she gives the ring, and to CARL the flower: to the FIRST YOUNG MAN the basket)
FIRST YOUNG MAN: Indeed, madame, I must say again, you are too cruel.
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE (to CARL): Now, you can choose any partner you like, by giving this flower. I should recommend that girl over there. She's decided pretty and dances very well.
CARL: Oh, yes! I spotted her from the very first! She has no need of recommendation. (Goes over to LUCILLE)
(Aside) What the devil am I to say to her? I don't know her from Eve! I wish one could get introduced to people in the proper way. I had no idea that the Achselmannsteins were such eccentric people. Oh, I'd better begin with something quite commonplace. For instance, (aloud to LUCILLE): ‘Do you like dancing?’
LUCILLE: Oh, I love dancing! It was my life, and indeed, is still.
CARL (aside): A very odd girl this! Is she a lunatic? I suppose she is. Anyhow, she's deuced pretty. I do hope Carlotta won't walk suddenly in. Otherwise there is no harm in humouring her little caprices. (Aloud to LUCILLE): If that is your life, I am willing to share my life with you.
LUCILLE (taking his arm and putting the flower into her bosom): Ah, life! life! life! That is all I ask for.
SECOND YOUNG MAN (passing by—surlily): Whosoever loveth his life shall lose it.
CARL (aside): Well, they do seem a queer lot!
THIRD YOUNG MAN (coming up to CARL and whispering): Whatever you do, do not dance. I have warned you once already. (CARL starts, shudders slightly, lets go LUCILLE's arm)
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE (to MAX): From the first moment you came into the room, I felt a peculiar sympathy for you.
MAX: You do me great honour, madame. May I venture to say the sympathy was reciprocated? (Aside): Good heavens. What will Irene think of this? It serves her right for not being here.
THIRD YOUNG MAN (coming up to MAX): Take warning! Do not dance. (Passes by)
MAX (aside): What on earth does he mean? He said that before. Are the people all mad here? But where's Carl?
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: Now we must fall into position. Of course you know how to dance the Polish mazurka? (The PRINCE begins to play the mazurka)
COUNTESS STERN (laughing aloud—to the FIRST YOUNG MAN): Ha! ha! We shall have some fun tonight!
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: You see the Prince is beginning to play already.
MAX: The Prince? Where is Count Achselmannstein?
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: Count Achselmannstein? I've never heard of him. Oh, yes! I do remember somebody once of that name. It was some long time ago. Why should you suppose that he would be here?
CARL (to LUCILLE): Will you excuse me for one instant, gnädige fraulein? I just wish to say one word to my friend, before we commence the cotillion.
LUCILLE: But you will come back, won't you?
CARL (crosses over to MAX, sotto voce): There's something very odd about this place, I can't quite make it out. Can you leave your partner for one instant and come over here?
MAX (to MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE): You will excuse me, madame, for one instant. My friend has something to tell me.
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: Yes, I will excuse you for one instant; but I don't think this exactly a suitable time for confidences.
MAX (to CARL hurriedly): Look here, we have got into the wrong house, that's about it.
CARL: Well, the only thing we can do is to square it with the boss and make apologies.
MAX: Yes, that's the only thing we can do. We're certainly in a very ridiculous predicament, especially as the boss seems to be a prince. However, it's no fault of ours. We must get out of it as best we can. I hope he won't be awfully offended; as he has certainly every right to be. There he is at the piano.
ANTOINE (to the PRINCE): Oh, let them go… We have got quite a large enough company already.
PRINCE FERDINAND: But how can I? Do you not see, child, it is not inclination, but fatality.
MAX (coming up to the PRINCE): I ask a thousand pardons, durchlaucht! But it appears that by some stupid mistake on our part, we have come to the wrong house. If I explain to you the circumstances, perhaps you will excuse us. We were invited to a ball at the house of Count Achselmannstein, at which house we were going to stay. Having lost our way in the mountains and not knowing the house before; and seeing this house lit up, we gathered this was the house for which we were in search. And as it seemed unlikely that two houses in this wild country place would be giving a ball at the same time, we stayed here, thinking it to be our destination. We have only this moment discovered our error. Again, the only thing I can do is offer to your Highness a thousand apologies.
PRINCE FERDINAND: There is no need to apologize. If you have come to my house by mistake, I am only too glad to welcome you. We seldom have guests in these parts; and it is far too late for you to go on, as Count Achselmannstein's house is some way off. I shall be only too pleased to offer you the little hospitality I can.
COUNTESS STERN (to FIRST YOUNG MAN): Decidedly, the Prince is en veine today. That remark about the little hospitality is decidedly humorous.
THIRD YOUNG MAN (passing by): Our hospitality is very little indeed, and not much to be recommended.
SECOND YOUNG MAN (standing by): Oh, bother you! You're always bemoaning our lot; and as we cannot alter it we must be content where we are. At least, it will be distracting to have some new companions to share it.
THIRD YOUNG MAN (sadly and meditatively): I had hopes of Heaven once, before they taught me to believe in nothing. It was our own fault. It is right and just that we should be here. But being in Hell, why should we wish to drag others into the same abyss as ourselves?
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE (who has come up to them, tapping THIRD YOUNG MAN with her fan): Really, Leonhard, you are too absurd. I really begin to believe you are jealous.
LUCILLE (approaching them): What is all this fuss about? And why don't we begin to dance?
THIRD YOUNG MAN: Oh, all about nothing! We shall begin to dance directly.
ANTOINE (to PRINCE): Once more I say, spare them!
PRINCE (turning to him): Yes, I will, dear, for your sake.
CARL (to MAX): Well, what do you think we'd better do? Shall we accept the Prince's offer? It's getting very late now: we might as well stay here the night, and go on, we can easily explain matters to the Achselmannsteins tomorrow morning. It will be rather an amusing story.
MAX (to CARL): No! We must get away from here at all hazards. There is something horrible and uncanny about the place. Have you not the same feeling?
CARL: Well, yes I have. I quite agree with you. Let us go away.
MAX (to PRINCE): Durchlaucht, your offer of hospitality flatters us greatly. But, I fear, we cannot accept it. You see we are expected at Count Achselmannstein's; and if we do not arrive, they will think some accident has befallen us. And as you have been so kind as to pardon our almost unpardonable indiscretion, perhaps you will extend your amiability by indicating to us which route we ought to take, to reach the house we are in search of.
PRINCE Ferdinand: I am very sorry; but as it is to you a matter of necessity, my servant shall go with you part of the way and show you which turning to take. Antoine, go with the gentlemen as far as the crossroads.
ANTOINE (abruptly): Yes.
(Exit CARL and MAX escorted by ANTOINE)
LUCILLE (crying): We're not going to dance, after all?
COUNTESS STERN: You mean to say you let those people go?
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: Those fascinating young men whom I thought would be a novel experience!
COUNTESS STERN: You, too, who are the cause of all this!
FIRST YOUNG MAN: You let them go; why did you not let us go?
PR
INCE Ferdinand: You did not ask me.
COUNTESS STERN: You gave us no opportunity to ask.
MADAME DE LA VALLIÈRE: Pity seems quite a new element in your character.
SECOND YOUNG MAN: As we are, so must we be for ever! Let us dance the mazurka. Why should we wrangle amongst ourselves here?
THIRD YOUNG MAN: Yes, here. Where there's weeping and gnashing of teeth!
(PRINCE plays the mazurka; they begin to dance, and then burst into loud laughter)
SCENE THREE
(Landscape at the crossroads as in Scene One; CARL and MAX driving in the dog-cart with ANTOINE seated behind)
CARL: It's a jolly good thing we've got out of that house! What can it have been? I suppose a Lunatic Asylum.
MAX (gravely): No, I have a different idea on the subject. Anyhow, don't talk about it just now, as the page might hear, and however eccentric, the people were certainly very polite.
CARL: Bah! The page only talks French. What does it matter what one says in this case?
MAX: I think it does matter. You see we don't know these parts. Who knows who may be living there? Again I say, I have another theory about it. But that you will only laugh at, and I certainly won't tell you now. But if your theories are correct, they are certainly very lucid lunatics, and maniacs with a method!
ANTOINE (at the crossroads): Messieurs, par là à droite, et vous y serez en quelque minutes
CARL (to MAX): Have you got any money about you? We must give him something.
MAX: Yes, I have: a gold piece. But it's worth a gold piece to get out of that place, although we students are not proverbially rich.
(MAX takes the gold piece from his pocket, hands it behind. ANTOINE has disappeared. The money falls upon the stone road)
SCENE FOUR
(House of Count Achselmannstein. Discovered: COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN; COUNTESS ACHSELMANNSTEIN; IRENE and CARLOTTA)
CARLOTTA (rising looking piqued): Well, you are a trifle late.
CARL: But if you only heard—
COUNTESS ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Better late than never! But I fear you are too late for our little private dance. All the people have gone away.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Yes, and all the supper devoured, by these ravenous people! So, I'm afraid we can't offer you anything, except sleeping accommodation, until tomorrow.
CARL: If you will have a moment's patience, and hear our story, you will find ample excuse. We took the wrong turning at the crossroads, and got to a house lighted up, which of course we thought was yours. When we went in we found the people were in fancy dress. We were rather riled that you hadn't told us that before, and we thought it was only going to be a small private dance, and would you believe it we stayed there some long time always thinking you might turn up. They certainly were very amiable people, but extremely odd.
CARLOTTA: Well, really Carl, I should never have given you credit to invent such a long fictitious excuse as that. Because, although stupid, your redeeming point always was telling the truth!
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: There is no house whatsoever in that road. At least, not near here.
IRENE (going towards MAX): Why, Max, how pale you look! What is really the matter?
MAX: Well, Carl's story is true, that's all.
IRENE: Good God! Yes, I understand.
MAX: You look pale too, Irene, now. Why? I do not understand.
IRENE: Spare me for tonight. Perhaps I will tell you tomorrow. I am not sure I will, I know you think me ridiculously superstitious, and will probably laugh at me, but you do not look like laughing now.
MAX: I dare say I do not. But tell me what you think.
IRENE: No, not now tonight. Tomorrow, perhaps.
CARL (aloud): Well, though the dance is over, we've had no dancing at all. Let's at least have one dance.
COUNTESS ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Well, one, only one, as the girls must really go to bed.
CARLOTTA: Well as it's only to be one, let's dance the Polish mazurka.
MAX: Whatever we dance, let it not be the mazurka!
CARL (meditatively): No, not the mazurka! (Quickly) No, I like valses and polkas best. They are much more fun than those elaborate dances.
CARLOTTA: I can't think what's happened to you two: you look so depressed, and tell some ridiculous story. Well, if you don't like the mazurka—I can't quite see where your particular dislike comes in—let's try the simple valse, if mama will be so kind as to play the piano.
COUNTESS ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Mind, only one valse! And no more. We have had enough dancing already; and I have the simple remedy in my hands—not to play any longer. You cannot dance without music: and Heinrich is by no means a musician.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN (aside to himself): What on earth do they mean? They must have been up to some mischief or other. Of all the lame stories and excuses I have ever heard, this beats the record. However, I'll sound them by and bye.
(They dance a valse. COUNTESS ACHSELMANNSTEIN plays; MAX dances with IRENE; CARL with CARLOTTA. Then they say goodnight to the ladies)
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: I was only joking about the supper, my boys. There are still some fragments left. (Rings bell) Also some of that particularly nice Swedish punch.
MAX: I should like to have something after all we have gone through.
CARL: I was quite frightened when you said there was nothing left, for after the long drive we had to get here, we were at least beginning to get a trifle hungry. Really it was too stupid of us to get into the wrong house!
(Servants bring in things on a tray and place them on the table. They commence eating and drinking)
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Now, tell me outright, quite simply, where have you been that you came so late? Tell me the truth and I won't mind.
MAX: I can assure you the story we told you is absolutely true. But why should you doubt our veracity?
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: There you are again, Max, with your high-flown language! You might as well confess at once the whole story is bogus; and a very poor invention too! I know you are given to flights of imagination. But you, Carl, have that excellent quality of having no imagination, whatsoever. On several occasions indeed I have heard you tell the truth. Perhaps you will in this case.
CARL (gravely): What Max says was the actual fact.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: That's nonsense! There's no house along that road for miles and miles and miles. The people here have some ridiculous superstition that they won't live anywhere near some burnt ruins that belonged, I believe, to Prince Ferdinand Moltenberg. But what the superstition of the people is, I have never taken the trouble to make out. You had better refer to Irene in such matters. Again, I ask why on earth do you say you went to a house there, by mistake?
CARL AND MAX (together): But I can assure you, we did.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Nonsense! Do you suppose I don't know this neighbourhood by this time? I know you have been up to some mischief, which I won't inquire into.
MAX: Well, tomorrow morning we shall show you exactly where we went.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: As you stick to your story, I will go with you tomorrow morning exactly where you went, if you remember. Now have another glass of punch and let us say goodnight.
SCENE FIVE
(Landscape with ruins and charred remains of an old château)
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN (seating himself on a stone seat): Well, really, if this is a practical joke, it is a very poor one. Here, I've toiled up this hill and come all this way! I can't think what's come over you. Have you, both of you, become raving mad, or were you so boozed last night that you could not get on any further? Or, I repeat, is it some stupid joke of yours? If it is, it is a very stupid one. Well perhaps you will say this is not the place. I certainly don't intend to go any further!
KARL (puzzled): Yes, this is the place right enough.
MAX (very slowly): Yes, this was the place.
(Enter IRENE and CARLOTTA)
CARLOTTA: We thought we'd come after you after all. At least, Irene
wanted to, and I came too. But what on earth do you mean by it all?
IRENE (to MAX): I think I can understand.
MAX: Well, tell me at least.
IRENE (to MAX): I think I'll tell the story to everyone though they will laugh at me. Perhaps you won't.
MAX (to IRENE): I begin to have some glimmering of your idea. I shall understand. You better tell it before the others, whatever they may say.
IRENE (aloud): Father, I know you think me ludicrously superstitious. But the story they told last night tallies so exactly with a story I have heard about this place, that I cannot think Max and Carl could have invented it. And I am sure they have never heard the story.
CARL: What story do you mean? I don't know anything about it.
CARLOTTA: Poor dear Carl is so totally devoid of imagination that I don't suppose he would have invented any story; but I don't know about Max.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Anyhow do tell the story. And let's get this ridiculous affair over.
IRENE: Well the story goes thus:—A certain prince called Ferdinand von Moltenberg had a château here, and one night, whilst some ball or entertainment was going on, the house was burnt down. It was suspected that some servant, who had some spite against his master, had done this, as the calcined remains of a corpse of a boy and remains of a page's livery were found here with a hand clutching a metal torch which had remained intact. But then, why did the page, having set fire to the house, not at once take flight, which here he could easily have done? I cannot understand it. There were other remains of corpses left here, mostly women. No-one has quite fathomed the mystery of this. I must add that Prince Ferdinand was the reigning prince here at that time.
COUNT ACHSELMANNSTEIN: Well really Irene, what will you say next? I suppose you're in the joke, trying to mystify me. But as far as you have got with the story, I don't see where it has the least connection with the narrative of our two young friends.
IRENE: Wait father, I'm coming to the point directly. The legend goes, among the people, that once every year, on the anniversary of that event, the house is seen lighted up. Indeed, Johan, our coachman, declares he has seen it with his own eyes; and anyone who enters the house, is requested to dance with the people. And certainly this is well authenticated. The dead bodies of three young men have been found here. I forget the exact dates, but the first was either the beginning of this century or the end of last. The second about 1830 or 1840, and the third, which I know about and saw myself, the year before last; It was! Don't you remember the case about which there was so much in the papers—about the supposed suicide of Baron Leonhard von Holdenstein? You remember the peculiar circumstances of the case, how he was found dead here among these ruins, without any trace of any wound whatsoever. Nor could the doctors in all their dissection of the body find any trace of poisoning nor organic disease.
Of Kings and Things Page 24