(The video projection of LOTTE fades to black)
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Scene 7. At the residence of ALBERT.
(The lights come up)
WERTHER: Will you lend me those pistols, Sir, for my journey?
ALBERT: Certainly, Werther, if you will go to the trouble of loading them; for they only hang there for show. Out of caution I no longer have anything to do with such damned things. I was staying at a friend’s house in the country some three months ago and with me I had a brace of pistols, unloaded; so I could sleep without anxiety. One rainy afternoon it occurred to me that the house was unprotected from burglars and that we might need the pistols - so I gave them to the servant to clean and load. He was playing with the maid, and trying to scare her, when the pistol went off - God knows how! The bullet passed straight through her right hand and shattered her thumb. I had to endure all the fuss, of course, and to pay the doctor’s bill; so, ever since, I always keep my guns unloaded. But, then, I wonder, what is the use of caution? We cannot be on our guard against every impending danger. However –
(WERTHER, smiling mischievously and with a sudden movement, points the barrel of the pistol to his forehead, over the right eye.)
What are you doing?
WERTHER: (Smiling)
It is not loaded.
ALBERT: Even so, what do you mean? Are you mad? The very idea of a man shooting himself is beyond my comprehension!
WERTHER: Mad or wise, good or bad? What is the meaning of these ‘labels’? Have you carefully studied all the complex motives of a man’s actions?
ALBERT: But you must agree that some actions are criminal, no matter what the motives are that have caused them.
WERTHER: No, not necessarily. For example, theft is a crime; but the man who steals to feed his starving family - should he be punished? And who will throw the first stone at a husband, who, in the heat of the moment, on discovering his unfaithful wife and her evil seducer, shoots them both? Or at the virgin, who, in her weakest hour of rapture, forgets herself due to the impetuous joy of love? Even our laws, cold and pedantic as they are, pity the ‘criminal’ and relent in such cases, withholding punishment.
ALBERT: That is entirely another thing, because a man under the influence of violent passion loses all power of reason, and should be regarded as intoxicated or else insane.
WERTHER: (Becoming angry) Oh! You rational people of reason who are ever ready to exclaim ‘Extravagance, and madness, and, and . . . intoxication!’ You moral men are so righteous and calm! You detest the drunken man, and fear the eccentric. But I have been drunk more than once, and my passions have always bordered on madness: I am not ashamed to admit it; for I have learned, through real experience, that all extraordinary men, those who have accomplished great things, have always been denounced by the world as drunk or insane. Shame upon you sages!
ALBERT: There you go again; always exaggerating! And in this case you are undoubtedly wrong; for we were speaking of suicide, which you compare with great deeds, when actually it is impossible to regard it as anything but a weakness. It is much easier to die than to stoically bear a lifetime of misery.
WERTHER: The question is not whether a man is strong or weak, but whether he is able to endure the measure of his sorrows and sufferings. Those sorrows and sufferings may be mental or physical and to overcome them requires great strength. In my opinion it is just as absurd to call a man who destroys himself a coward, as to call a man who dies of fever a coward.
ALBERT: Paradox, this is all paradox to me!
WERTHER: I will tell you the story of a pure young lady who drowned herself a short while ago. She was a good girl, grown up in the narrow sphere of her household duties; one who knew no other pleasure beyond a walk on Sundays, dressed in her best attire, accompanied by her friends, or perhaps joining in a dance now and then at some respectable event. In time, however, she became inflamed by the flattery of men, her former pleasures came to feel insipid, till eventually she meets with a boy to whom she is attracted by an indescribable longing; upon him she now rests all her dreams; and she forgets the world around her; she sees, hears, and longs for nothing but him. She hopes to become his wife, and to realise, in an everlasting union with him, all that happiness she has imagined, all that bliss for which she has longed. His repeated flattery and promises increase her hopes. She floats on a cloud of deluded anticipation of her matrimonial joy. Finally, she stretches out her arms to embrace the object of all her wishes but her lover, tragically, forsakes her. Miserable and confused, she stands alone upon the edge of an abyss. She is enveloped by darkness. She sees nothing of the wide world in front of her, thinks nothing of the many other fine young men who might fill the void in her heart; and, blinded by the pain that torments her soul, she plunges into the deep, to end her sorrows and sufferings in the sweet embrace of death. You know, of course, Albert, this is the history of thousands; and tell me, is this not a case of physical illness? Nature provides no way to escape from the labyrinth of despair, and the poor girl must die. Shame upon him who can calmly look on and say; ‘Foolish girl! She should have waited! Time would have eased her pain and she would have found another lover to comfort her.’ One might as well say, ‘The fool, to die of a fever! He would still be alive if he had but waited for his strength to return!’
ALBERT: I whole-heartedly object. You have taken the case of a mere ignorant girl.
WERTHER: Man is but a man; and, whatever be the extent of his wisdom, it is of little use when passion rages within. It is better, then . . .
(Pause)
We will talk of this some other time.
(Lights fade to black. Voice over)
August 28. If my sorrows and sufferings could be cured then here, surely, is the cure. Today is my birthday, and early in the morning I received a package from Albert. Inside I found one of the pink ribbons which Lotte wore in her dress the very first time I met her, and which I had many times begged her to give me. With it were two volumes in duodecimo of Wetstein’s ‘Homer’, a book I had often wished for, to save me the trouble of carrying the heavy Ernestine edition with me everywhere. How she anticipates my wishes, how well she understands all those little attentions of friendship. I kissed the ribbon a thousand times, and with every breath relived those happy and irreplaceable days with her which have filled me with the greatest joy.
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Scene 8. At the fountain under the stars.
(The lights come up on ALBERT, LOTTE and WERTHER walking together. The video on the cyclorama shows the appropriate scenery)
LOTTE: Whenever I walk in the moonlight, it brings to mind all my beloved and departed friends, and I am filled with thoughts of death and the afterlife. We shall live again, Werther! But shall we know one another again, do you think? What do you say?
WERTHER:
(Taking her hand, his eyes filling with tears)
Charlotte, we shall see each other again - here and hereafter we shall once more meet.
LOTTE: And do those departed ones know of us down here? Do they know how we fare and how happy we are when we recall their memories with the fondest love? In the quiet of the night, the shadow of my mother seems to hover around me; when I sit in the midst of her children then I raise my eyes to heaven, and wish she could look down upon us, and see how I have kept the promise I made to her on her deathbed - my promise to be a mother to her children. With such emotion do I cry out ‘Forgive me, dear mother, forgive me, if I do not adequately fill your place! I do my best. They are clothed and fed; and, better still, they are loved and educated. Could you only see, sweet saint, the peace and harmony of our lives, you would praise God for me answering your dying prayer.
ALBERT: This affects you too deeply, dear Charlotte. I know your heart dwells on such recollections with intense feeling; but I beg you -
LOTTE: Oh Albert! I am sure you have not forgotten the evenings when we three used to sit at the table, when f
ather was away, and the children were in bed. You would often have a good book with you, but would be unable to read it; the conversation of that noble woman was preferable to anything - that beautiful, intelligent, gentle and yet so hard-working woman. God alone knows how often my prayers have been bathed in tears that I might be like her.
WERTHER: (WERTHER throws himself at LOTTE’s feet) Charlotte! God’s blessing and your mother’s spirit are upon you.
LOTTE: Oh, Werther! If you had only known her. She was so worthy of your acquaintance. And yet she was doomed to die in the prime of life, when her youngest boy was barely six months old. Her illness was short and she was peaceful and resigned but it was only for the sake of her children. When the end drew near, she made me bring them to her. The younger ones knew nothing of their approaching loss but the elder ones were overcome with grief. They stood around the bed and she prayed over them; then, kissing them in turn, sent them away, and said to me, ‘Lotte, be a mother to them.’ I held her hand. ‘You are promising much, my daughter; a mother’s love and a mother’s care!’ she said. ‘You know what that means. Show that love and care to your brothers and sisters, and be as obedient and faithful to your father as a wife; you must be comforting to him.’ She asked for him but he had retired to hide his anguish, - he was completely grief-stricken. Albert, you too were in the room. She asked you to also approach and looked at us both with satisfaction, expressing her belief that we would be happy with each other. Albert embraced her, and cried, ‘We are happy, and we will always be happy!’ Yes, even Albert, usually so calm and reasonable, had lost his composure; and I was moved beyond expression. Such a being was to leave us, Werther! Good God, must we thus part with all we love in this world? Nobody felt this more deeply than the children: they cried for so long afterwards, complaining that monsters had taken away their dear mamma . . .
(Pause)
We should go, it is getting late.
(LOTTE attempts to withdraw her hand but WERTHER, visibly moved, holds it still.)
WERTHER: We shall see each other again, we shall recognise each other under any condition! I am going now, going willingly; but, if I say forever, I could not bear it. Adieu, Charlotte; adieu, Albert. We shall meet again.
LOTTE: Yes: tomorrow, I think.
(She leaves hand in hand with ALBERT. The lights go down. Title projected onto the rear cyclorama)
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END OF ACT ONE.
* * *
ACT TWO.
(The lights are down. A video title reading ACT TWO is projected as the audience resumes their seats)
Scene 9. The Country Inn
WERTHER:
(Voice over, accompanied by video projection of a snowstorm)
January 20. Oh, the unbearable wretchedness that I am doomed to endure among the stupid people who parade around this new town I now find myself in! Their struggle for rank! What contemptible motives they exhibit! I am aware, of course, how necessary are the divisions of rank, and I know also of the advantages I myself gain from them; but I would not permit these institutions to prove an obstacle to that small chance of happiness which I may enjoy on this earth. I must write to you from this terrible place, my dear Lotte, from a tiny room in a country inn, where I have taken shelter from a fierce storm.
(The video of the snowstorm merges with vision of WERTHER’s hand writing)
During my whole stay in this wretched place, so far from you and where I live now among strangers - strangers, indeed, to my heart – I have never at any time felt the slightest inclination to write to you; but alone in this room with the snow and hail beating against the window, you are now my first thought. The moment I entered, your memory rose before me! Oh my Charlotte, the sacred, tender memory! Oh, Heaven! Could you but see me, my dear Charlotte, how my senses have dried and my heart has become empty. I cannot enjoy a solitary moment of happiness. In the evening I tell myself I will enjoy the next morning’s sunrise, and yet I linger in bed: in the daytime I promise to hike by moonlight; and yet I nevertheless stay at home. I know not why I wake or sleep . . . Oh, that I could be sitting at your feet in our favourite little room, with the children playing around us! If they became a nuisance to you I would tell them a scary ghost story; and they would all crowd around me in rapt attention.
(The video of WERTHER writing merges with vision of the snowstorm clearing)
Ah, now, the glorious sun is setting; its last rays are shining on the snow, which covers the whole of the countryside. The storm is now over, and I am returned to my dungeon. When the sun rises in the morning with the promise of a bright, new glorious day I cannot help myself from thinking ‘Here is yet another gift from Heaven which the people around me will certainly spoil!’ They destroy everything - health, happiness, leisure and they do so through narrow-mindedness and ignorance, but always, if you were to believe them, with the noblest of intentions. But adieu, now, adieu! Is Albert with you? And what is he to you? Oh, I am a fool - forgive me for asking.
(The video fades to black)
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Scene 10. The Ambassador’s office.
(The lights come up on WERTHER who is working in an orderly office for the AMBASSADOR who has returned papers to him. The video on the cyclorama shows the appropriate scenery)
AMBASSADOR: They will do . . . (But not satisfied) . . . but one may always improve by selecting a better word or a more appropriate particle.
COUNT: (Aside to WERTHER) One must submit, like a traveller who has to climb a mountain: if the mountain was not there, the road would be both shorter and easier; but there it is, and one must climb it.
AMBASSADOR: (Overhearing the COUNT) The count is a man of the world, and a good businessman: his style is admirable, and he writes well; but, like many other geniuses, he lacks solid learning.
WERTHER: (With barely restrained anger) The count is a man entitled to respect, not only for his achievements but for his character. I have never before met a man whose mind was filled with a more useful and extensive knowledge - who has, in fact, mastered such an infinite variety of subjects, and who yet has retained all the business skills necessary.
WERTHER: (Voice over as WERTHER continues working)
February 17. I fear that the Ambassador and I will not continue working together much longer. He is becoming quite unbearable. He conducts his business so ludicrously, that I am often forced to contradict him, and do things my own way; and then, of course, he thinks them incorrect. He complained about me recently at court; and the Minister gave me a reprimand - a mild one it is true, but still I was reprimanded. As a result, I feel I must soon tender my resignation.
(Lights fade to black)
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Scene 11. At the residence of the AMBASSADOR.
(Video projection showing formally dressed aristocrats at a party. The lights come up as they turn in unison and look down their noses disapprovingly as WERTHER, who is accompanied by two young ladies of dubious morals, enters. He flirts outrageously with ADELIN and leans over the back of MISS B’s chair to brazenly peer down her dress. As the COUNT approaches WERTHER the image of the aristocrats in the video freezes)
COUNT: You know our petty customs, Werther, I think the company is unimpressed by your presence here. Whilst I would not . . .
WERTHER: (With mild sarcasm) I beg your pardon, Sir! I should have thought of this before, but I know you will forgive my brief inattention. I was going to leave some time ago, but my evil genius detained me.
(Smiling sarcastically, WERTHER bows elaborately to the video of the assembled aristocrats and exits with the girls. The video shows the aristocrats ‘unfreezing’ and resuming their festivities. WERTHER, ADELIN and MISS B. depart to the side of the stage)
ADELIN: This is a most disagreeable event.
WERTHER: Is it?
ADELIN: The count has ordered you to leave the party!
WERTHER: To hell with the party! How happy I am to
be gone.
ADELIN: Well, I am happy that you can take it so lightly. I am only sorry that it will be so much gossiped about.
MISS B: Oh, Werther! You know me so intimately yet you do not appreciate my distress? What I will suffer for your behaviour! I knew this would happen. I knew that those fine ladies, with their fine husbands, would quit the room, rather than remain in your company, the way you were behaving. I knew that the Count would not break with them: and now everyone will talk of it. Oh, how it will cost me!
WERTHER: Please explain yourself!
MISS B: (Crying) You know my aunt was present: and how poorly she thinks of you! She will lecture me about our acquaintance. You will be condemned and slandered; and I cannot - I dare not - say anything in your defence.
(WERTHER storms off in disgust. The lights go down)
WERTHER: (Voice over) March 15. My God, Wilhelm! They are just the same as the rest! Just like the honourable Lady accompanied by her noble husband and their silly, scheming daughter, with her small waist and flat neck who all pass me by with their haughty airs. I thoroughly detest their whole race and I am determined to go away. And now that I am pitied everywhere and must listen to the nonsense of those who think themselves better than me - it is unbearable.
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Scene 12. In the field.
(The lights come up. The video on the cyclorama shows the appropriate scenery. Scenes 3 - 7 are indicated by WERTHER moving from one part of the stage into another, differently lit part and presented in a non-naturalistic manner to show WERTHER’s diminishing grip on reality)
The Sorrows and Suffering of Young Werther: A Stage-play Page 3