Title : Liliom
a legend in seven scenes and a prologue
Author : Ferenc Molnár
Translator : Benjamin F. Glazer
Release date : April 20, 2015 [eBook #48749]
Language : English
Credits
: Produced by Paul Haxo from page images generously made
available by the Internet Archive, Cornell University,
Harvard University and Google.
L I L I O M
A LEGEND IN SEVEN SCENES
AND A PROLOGUE
BY
ENGLISH TEXT AND INTRODUCTION BY
BENJAMIN F. GLAZER
HORACE LIVERIGHT
PUBLISHER
NEW YORK
LILIOM
C
OPYRIGHTED
, 1921,
BY
U
NITED
P
LAYS
I
NC
.
All rights reserved
First Printing, May, 1921
Second Printing, June, 1921
Third Printing, August, 1921
Fourth Printing, November, 1921
Fifth Printing, September, 1922
Sixth Printing, December, 1922
Seventh Printing, January, 1926
Eighth Printing, December, 1927
Ninth Printing, November, 1928
CAUTION —All persons are hereby warned that the plays published in this volume are fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States and all foreign countries, and are subject to royalty, and any one presenting any of said plays without the consent of the Author or his recognized agents, will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Applications for the acting rights must be made to the United Plays, Inc., 1428 Broadway, New York City.
Printed in the United States of America
As originally produced by The Theatre Guild, on the night of April 20, 1921, at the Garrick Theatre, New York City.
(In the order of their appearance)
| Marie | Hortense Alden | ||
| Julie | Eva Le Gallienne | ||
| Mrs. Muskat | Helen Westley | ||
| “Liliom” | Joseph Schildkraut | ||
| “Liliom” is the Hungarian for lily, and the slang term for “a tough” | |||
| Four Servant Girls | { |
Frances Diamond
Margaret Mosier Anne de Chantal Elizabeth Parker |
|
| Policemen | { |
Howard Claney
Lawrence B. Chrow |
|
| Captain | Erskine Sanford | ||
| Plainclothes Man | Gerald Stopp | ||
| Mother Hollunder | Lilian Kingsbury | ||
| “The Sparrow” | Dudley Digges | ||
| Wolf Berkowitz | Henry Travers | ||
| Young Hollunder | William Franklin | ||
| Linzman | Willard Bowman | ||
| First Mounted Policeman | Edgar Stehli | ||
| Second Mounted Policeman | George Frenger | ||
| The Doctor | Robert Babcock | ||
| The Carpenter | George Frenger | ||
| First Policeman of the Beyond | Erskine Sanford | ||
| Second Policeman of the Beyond | Gerald Stopp | ||
| The Richly Dressed Man | Edgar Stehli | ||
| The Poorly Dressed Man | Philip Wood | ||
| The Old Guard | Walton Butterfield | ||
| The Magistrate | Albert Perry | ||
| Louise | Evelyn Chard | ||
| Peasants, Townspeople, etc. | |||
| Lela M. Aultman, Janet Scott, Marion M. Winsten, Katherine Fahnestock, Lillian Tuchman, Ruth L. Cumming, Jacob Weiser, Maurice Somers, John Crump. | |||
| Prologue | An Amusement Park on the Outskirts of Budapest | ||
| First Scene | A Lonely Place in the Park | ||
| Second Scene | The Tin Type Shop of the Hollunders | ||
| Third Scene | The Same | ||
| Fourth Scene | A Railroad Embankment Outside the City | ||
| Intermission | |||
| Fifth Scene | Same as Scene Two | ||
| Sixth Scene | A Courtroom in the Beyond | ||
| Seventh Scene | Before Julie’s Door | ||
| Produced under the direction of F RANK R EICHER | |||
| Costumes and scenery designed by L EE S IMONSON | |||
| Technical Director S HELDON K. V IELE | |||
| Scenery painted by R OBERT B ERGMAN | |||
| Costumes executed by N ETTIE D UFF R EADE | |||
| Stage Manager W ALTER G EER | |||
| Assistant Stage Manager J ACOB W EISER | |||
| Music arranged by D EEMS T AYLOR | |||
| Executive Director T HERESA H ELBURN | |||
The première of “LILIOM” at Budapest in December, 1909, left both playgoer and critic a bit bewildered. It was not the sort of play the Hungarian capital had been accustomed to expect of its favorite dramatist, whose THE DEVIL, after two years of unprecedented success, was still crowding the theatres of two continents.
One must, it was true, count on a touch of fantasy in every Molnar work. Never had he been wholly content with everyday reality, not in his stories, or in his sketches or in his earlier plays; and least of all in THE DEVIL wherein the natural and supernatural were most whimsically blended. But in LILIOM, it seemed, he had carried fantasy to quite unintelligible lengths. Budapest was frankly puzzled.
What did he mean by killing his hero in the fifth scene, taking him into Heaven in the sixth and bringing him back to earth in the seventh? Was this prosaic Heaven of his seriously or satirically intended? Was Liliom a saint or a common tough? And was his abortive redemption a symbol or merely [Pg x] a jibe? These were some of the questions Budapest debated while the play languished through thirty or forty performances and was withdrawn.
Almost ten years passed before it was revived. This time it was an immediate and overwhelming triumph. Perhaps the wide circulation of the play in printed form had made its beauty and significance clearer. Perhaps the tragedy of the war had made Molnar’s public more sensitive to spiritual values. Whatever the reason, Budapest now accepted ecstatically what it had previously rejected, and Molnar was more of a popular hero than ever. From which it may be gleaned that Hungary takes its drama and dramatists more seriously, disapproves them more passionately and praises them more affectionately than we Americans can conceive. In Paris I once saw an audience rise en masse, because the sculptor Rodin had entered the auditorium, and remain on its feet cheering until he had taken his seat. Something of the kind greets Molnar whenever he appears in public, and nothing is more certain than that he is the hero, the oracle, the spoiled darling of club, salon and coffee house in which artistic Hungary foregathers.
But the years immediately following the first production of LILIOM were for him a period of eclipse. It was the first time that even the threat of failure had cast its shadow across his career. He became [Pg xi] timid, wary of failure, too anxious to please his public. His subsequent plays were less original, less daring, more faithful to routine. Never again did he touch the heights of LILIOM; and some of his best friends aver that he never will again until he has banished the dread of failure that obsesses him.
An odd situation, truly, and in some aspects a tragic one. Genius lacking the courage to spread its wings and soar. A potential immortal bidding fearfully for the praise of a coffee-house clique. Is it vanity? Is it abnormal sensitiveness? Biographical data cast little light on the enigma.
Franz Molnar was born in Budapest on January 12, 1878, the son of a wealthy Jewish merchant. He graduated from the Universities of Geneva and Budapest. His literary career was begun as a journalist at the age of eighteen. He wrote short sketches and humorous dialogues of such beauty and charm that he became a national figure almost at once, and the circulation of his newspaper increased until it was foremost in Budapest. Then he married Margaret Vaszi, the daughter of his editor, herself a journalist of note. Two years later he was divorced from her, and subsequently he married an actress who had played rôles in his own plays.
For a portrait of him as he is today you have to think of Oscar Wilde at the height of his glory. A big pudgy face, immobile, pink, smooth-shaven, [Pg xii] its child-like expressionlessness accentuated by the monocle he always wears, though rather belied by the gleam of humor in his dark alert eyes. His hair is iron-gray, his figure stocky and of about medium height. A mordant wit, an inimitable raconteur, he loves life and gayety and all the luxuries of life. Nothing can persuade him out of his complacent and comfortable routine. He will not leave Budapest, even to attend the première of one of his plays in nearby Vienna. The post-war political upheaval which has rent all Hungary into two voluble and bitter factions left him quite unperturbed and neutral. His pen is not for politics.
Yet it is a singularly prolific pen. His novels and short stories are among the finest in Hungarian literature. He has written nine long plays and numerous short ones. A chronology of his more important dramatic works is as follows:
1902 A DOKTOR UR (The Doctor).
1904 JOZSI.
1907 AZ ÖRDÖG (The Devil).
1909 LILIOM.
1911 TESTÖR (Played in this country as “Where Ignorance is Bliss”).
1913 A FARKAS (Played in this country as “The Phantom Rival”).
1914 URIDIVAT (Attorney for Defence).
1919 A HATTYU (The Swan).
1920 SZINHAZ (Theatre: Three One-Act Plays).
Undoubtedly the greatest of these is LILIOM. Indeed, I know of no play written in our own time which matches the amazing virtuosity of LILIOM, its imaginative daring, its uncanny blending of naturalism and fantasy, humor and pathos, tenderness and tragedy into a solid dramatic structure. At first reading it may seem a mere improvization in many moods, but closer study must reveal how the moods are as inevitably related to each other as pearls on a string.
And where in modern dramatic literature can such pearls be matched—Julie incoherently confessing to her dead lover the love she had always been ashamed to tell; Liliom crying out to the distant carousel the glad news that he is to be a father; the two thieves gambling for the spoils of their prospective robbery; Marie and Wolf posing for their portrait while the broken-hearted Julie stands looking after the vanishing Liliom, the thieves’ song ringing in her ears; the two policemen grousing about pay and pensions while Liliom lies bleeding to death; Liliom furtively proffering his daughter the star he has stolen for her in heaven. . . . The temptation to count the whole scintillating string is difficult to resist.
What is the moral of LILIOM? Nothing you can reduce to a creed. Molnar is not a preacher or a [Pg xiv] propagandist for any theory of life. You will look in vain in his plays for moral or dogma. His philosophy—if philosophy you can call it—is always implicit. And nothing is plainer than that his picture of a courtroom in the beyond is neither devoutly nor satirically intended. Liliom’s Heaven is the Heaven of his own imagining. And what is more natural than that it should be an irrational jumble of priest’s purgatory, police magistrate’s justice and his own limited conception of good deeds and evil?
For those who hold that every fine dramatic architecture must have its spire of meaning, that by the very selection of character and incident the dramatist writes his commentary on life, there is still an explanation possible. Perhaps Molnar was at the old, old task of revaluing our ideas of good and evil. Perhaps he has only shown how the difference between a bully, a wife-beater and a criminal on the one hand and a saint on the other can be very slight. If one must tag LILIOM with a moral, I prefer to read mine in Liliom’s dying speech to Julie wherein he says: “Nobody’s right . . . but they all think they are right. . . . A lot they know.”
BENJAMIN F. GLAZER.
New York, April, 1921.
P ROLOGUE — An amusement park on the outskirts of Budapest.
F IRST S CENE — A lonely place in the park.
S ECOND S CENE — The photographic studio of the H OLLUNDERS .
T HIRD S CENE — Same as scene two.
F OURTH S CENE — A railroad embankment outside the city.
F IFTH S CENE — Same as scene two.
S IXTH S CENE — A courtroom in the beyond.
S EVENTH S CENE —J ULIE ’ S garden.
There are intermissions only after the second and fifth scenes.
An amusement park on the outskirts of Budapest on a late afternoon in Spring. Barkers stand before the booths of the sideshows haranguing the passing crowd. The strident music of a calliope is heard; laughter, shouts, the scuffle of feet, the signal bells of merry-go-round.
The merry-go-round is at Center. L ILIOM stands at the entrance, a cigarette in his mouth, coaxing the people in. The girls regard him with idolizing glances and screech with pleasure as he playfully pushes them through entrance. Now and then some girl’s escort resents the familiarity, whereupon L ILIOM ’ S demeanor becomes ugly and menacing, and the cowed escort slinks through the entrance behind his girl or contents himself with a muttered resentful comment.
One girl hands L ILIOM a red carnation; he rewards her with a bow and a smile. When the soldier who accompanies her protests, L ILIOM cows him with a fierce glance and a threatening gesture. M ARIE and J ULIE come out of the crowd and L ILIOM favors them with particular notice as they pass into the merry-go-round.
M RS . M USKAT comes out of the merry-go-round, bringing L ILIOM coffee and rolls. L ILIOM mounts the barker’s stand at the entrance, where he is elevated over everyone on the stage. Here he begins his harangue. Everybody turns toward him. The other booths are gradually deserted. The tumult makes it impossible for the audience to hear what he is saying, but every now and then some witticism of his provokes a storm of laughter which is audible above the din. Many people enter the merry-go-round. Here and there one catches a phrase “Room for one more on the zebra’s back,” “Which of you ladies?” “Ten heller for adults, five for children,” “Step right up”——
It is growing darker. A lamplighter crosses the stage, and begins unperturbedly lighting the colored gas-lamps. The whistle of a distant locomotive is heard. Suddenly the tumult ceases, the lights go out, and the curtain falls in darkness.
END OF PROLOGUE
LILIOM
S CENE — A lonely place in the park, half hidden by trees and shrubbery. Under a flowering acacia tree stands a painted wooden bench. From the distance, faintly, comes the tumult of the amusement park. It is the sunset of the same day.
When the curtain rises the stage is empty.
M ARIE enters quickly, pauses at center, and looks back.
M ARIE
Julie, Julie! [ There is no answer. ] Do you hear me, Julie? Let her be! Come on. Let her be. [ Starts to go back. ]
[J ULIE enters, looks back angrily. ]
J ULIE
Did you ever hear of such a thing? What’s the matter with the woman anyway?
M ARIE
[ Looking back again. ] Here she comes again.
J ULIE
Let her come. I didn’t do anything to her. All of a sudden she comes up to me and begins to raise a row.
M ARIE
Here she is. Come on, let’s run. [ Tries to urge her off. ]
J ULIE
Run? I should say not. What would I want to run for? I’m not afraid of her.
M ARIE
Oh, come on. She’ll only start a fight.
J ULIE
I’m going to stay right here. Let her start a fight.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Entering. ] What do you want to run away for? [ To J ULIE .] Don’t worry. I won’t eat you. But there’s one thing I want to tell you, my dear. Don’t let me catch you in my carousel again. I stand for a whole lot, I have to in my business. It makes no difference to me whether my customers are ladies or the likes of you—as long as they pay their money. But when a girl misbehaves herself on my carousel—out she goes. Do you understand?
J ULIE
Are you talking to me?
M RS . M USKAT
Yes, you! You—chamber-maid, you! In my carousel——
J ULIE
Who did anything in your old carousel? I paid my fare and took my seat and never said a word, except to my friend here.
M ARIE
No, she never opened her mouth. Liliom came over to her of his own accord.
M RS . M USKAT
It’s all the same. I’m not going to get in trouble with the police, and lose my license on account of you—you shabby kitchen maid!
J ULIE
Shabby yourself.
M RS . M USKAT
You stay out of my carousel! Letting my barker fool with you! Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?
J ULIE
What? What did you say?
M RS . M USKAT
I suppose you think I have no eyes in my head. I see everything that goes on in my carousel. During the whole ride she let Liliom fool with her—the shameless hussy!
J ULIE
He did not fool with me! I don’t let any man fool with me!
M RS . M USKAT
He leaned against you all through the ride!
J ULIE
He leaned against the panther. He always leans against something, doesn’t he? Everybody leans where he wants. I couldn’t tell him not to lean, if he always leans, could I? But he didn’t lay a hand on me.
M RS . M USKAT
Oh, didn’t he? And I suppose he didn’t put his hand around your waist, either?
M ARIE
And if he did? What of it?
M RS . M USKAT
You hold your tongue! No one’s asking you—just you keep out of it.
J ULIE
He put his arm around my waist—just the same as he does to all the girls. He always does that.
M RS . M USKAT
I’ll teach him not to do it any more, my dear. No carryings on in my carousel! If you are looking for that sort of thing, you’d better go to the circus! You’ll find lots of soldiers there to carry on with!
J ULIE
You keep your soldiers for yourself!
M ARIE
Soldiers! As if we wanted soldiers!
M RS . M USKAT
Well, I only want to tell you this, my dear, so that we understand each other perfectly. If you ever stick your nose in my carousel again, you’ll wish you hadn’t! I’m not going to lose my license on account of the likes of you! People who don’t know how to behave, have got to stay out!
J ULIE
You’re wasting your breath. If I feel like riding on your carousel I’ll pay my ten heller and I’ll ride. I’d like to see anyone try to stop me!
M RS . M USKAT
Just come and try it, my dear—just come and try it.
M ARIE
We’ll see what’ll happen.
M RS . M USKAT
Yes, you will see something happen that never happened before in this park.
J ULIE
Perhaps you think you could throw me out!
M RS . M USKAT
I’m sure of it, my dear.
J ULIE
And suppose I’m stronger than you?
M RS . M USKAT
I’d think twice before I’d dirty my hands on a common servant girl. I’ll have Liliom throw you out. He knows how to handle your kind.
J ULIE
You think Liliom would throw me out.
M RS . M USKAT
Yes, my dear, so fast that you won’t know what happened to you!
J ULIE
He’d throw me—— [ Stops suddenly, for M RS . M USKAT has turned away. Both look off stage until L ILIOM enters, surrounded by four giggling servant girls. ]
L ILIOM
Go away! Stop following me, or I’ll smack your face!
A L ITTLE S ERVANT G IRL
Well, give me back my handkerchief.
L ILIOM
Go on now——
T HE F OUR S ERVANT G IRLS
[ Simultaneously. ] What do you think of him?—My handkerchief!—Give it back to her!—That’s a nice thing to do!
T HE L ITTLE S ERVANT G IRL
[ To M RS . M USKAT .] Please, lady, make him——
M RS . M USKAT
Oh, shut up!
L ILIOM
Will you get out of here? [ Makes a threatening gesture—the four servant girls exit in voluble but fearful haste. ]
M RS . M USKAT
What have you been doing now?
L ILIOM
None of your business. [ Glances at J ULIE .] Have you been starting with her again?
J ULIE
Mister Liliom, please——
L ILIOM
[ Steps threateningly toward her. ] Don’t yell!
J ULIE
[ Timidly. ] I didn’t yell.
L ILIOM
Well, don’t. [ To M RS . M USKAT .] What’s the matter? What has she done to you?
M RS . M USKAT
What has she done? She’s been impudent to me. Just as impudent as she could be! I put her out of the carousel. Take a good look at this innocent thing, Liliom. She’s never to be allowed in my carousel again!
L ILIOM
[ To J ULIE .] You heard that. Run home, now.
M ARIE
Come on. Don’t waste your time with such people. [ Tries to lead J ULIE away. ]
J ULIE
No, I won’t——
M RS . M USKAT
If she ever comes again, you’re not to let her in. And if she gets in before you see her, throw her out. Understand?
L ILIOM
What has she done, anyhow?
J ULIE
[ Agitated and very earnest. ] Mister Liliom—tell me please—honest and truly—if I come into the carousel, will you throw me out?
M RS . M USKAT
Of course he’ll throw you out.
M ARIE
She wasn’t talking to you.
J ULIE
Tell me straight to my face, Mister Liliom, would you throw me out? [ They face each other. There is a brief pause. ]
L ILIOM
Yes, little girl, if there was a reason—but if there was no reason, why should I throw you out?
M ARIE
[ To M RS . M USKAT .] There, you see!
J ULIE
Thank you, Mister Liliom.
M RS . M USKAT
And I tell you again, if this little slut dares to set her foot in my carousel, she’s to be thrown out! I’ll stand for no indecency in my establishment.
L ILIOM
What do you mean—indecency?
M RS . M USKAT
I saw it all. There’s no use denying it.
J ULIE
She says you put your arm around my waist.
L ILIOM
Me?
M RS . M USKAT
Yes, you! I saw you. Don’t play the innocent.
L ILIOM
Here’s something new! I’m not to put my arm around a girl’s waist any more! I suppose I’m to ask your permission before I touch another girl!
M RS . M USKAT
You can touch as many girls as you want and as often as you want—for my part you can go as far as you like with any of them—but not this one—I permit no indecency in my carousel. [ There is a long pause. ]
L ILIOM
[ To M RS . M USKAT .] And now I’ll ask you please to shut your mouth.
M RS . M USKAT
What?
L ILIOM
Shut your mouth quick, and go back to your carousel.
M RS . M USKAT
What?
L ILIOM
What did she do to you, anyhow? Tryin’ to start a fight with a little pigeon like that . . . just because I touched her?—You come to the carousel as often as you want to, little girl. Come every afternoon, and sit on the panther’s back, and if you [Pg 14] haven’t got the price, Liliom will pay for you. And if anyone dares to bother you, you come and tell me.
M RS . M USKAT
You reprobate!
L ILIOM
Old witch!
J ULIE
Thank you, Mister Liliom.
M RS . M USKAT
You seem to think that I can’t throw you out, too. What’s the reason I can’t? Because you are the best barker in the park? Well, you are very much mistaken. In fact, you can consider yourself thrown out already. You’re discharged!
L ILIOM
Very good.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Weakening a little. ] I can discharge you any time I feel like it.
L ILIOM
Very good, you feel like discharging me. I’m discharged. That settles it.
M RS . M USKAT
Playing the high and mighty, are you? Conceited pig! Good-for-nothing!
L ILIOM
You said you’d throw me out, didn’t you? Well, that suits me; I’m thrown out.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Softening. ] Do you have to take up every word I say?
L ILIOM
It’s all right; it’s all settled. I’m a good-for-nothing. And a conceited pig. And I’m discharged.
M RS . M USKAT
Do you want to ruin my business?
L ILIOM
A good-for-nothing? Now I know! And I’m discharged! Very good.
M RS . M USKAT
You’re a devil, you are . . . and that woman——
L ILIOM
Keep away from her!
M RS . M USKAT
I’ll get Hollinger to give you such a beating that you’ll hear all the angels sing . . . and it won’t be the first time, either.
L ILIOM
Get out of here. I’m discharged. And you get out of here.
J ULIE
[ Timidly. ] Mister Liliom, if she’s willing to say that she hasn’t discharged you——
L ILIOM
You keep out of this.
J ULIE
[ Timidly. ] I don’t want this to happen on account of me.
L ILIOM
[ To M RS . M USKAT , pointing to J ULIE .] Apologize to her!
M ARIE
A-ha!
M RS . M USKAT
Apologize? To who?
L ILIOM
To this little pigeon. Well—are you going to do it?
M RS . M USKAT
If you give me this whole park on a silver plate, and all the gold of the Rothschilds on top of it—I’d—I’d—— Let her dare to come into my carousel again and she’ll get thrown out so hard that she’ll see stars in daylight!
L ILIOM
In that case, dear lady [ takes off his cap with a flourish ], you are respectfully requested to get out o’ here as fast as your legs will carry you—I never beat up a woman yet—except that Holzer woman who I sent to the hospital for three weeks—but—if you don’t get out o’ here this minute, and let this little squab be, I’ll give you the prettiest slap in the jaw you ever had in your life.
M RS . M USKAT
Very good, my son. Now you can go to the devil. Good-bye. You’re discharged, and you needn’t try to come back, either. [ She exits. It is beginning to grow dark. ]
M ARIE
[ With grave concern. ] Mister Liliom——
L ILIOM
Don’t you pity me or I’ll give you a slap in the jaw. [ To J ULIE .] And don’t you pity me, either.
J ULIE
[ In alarm. ] I don’t pity you, Mister Liliom.
L ILIOM
You’re a liar, you are pitying me. I can see it in your face. You’re thinking, now that Madame Muskat has thrown him out, Liliom will have to go [Pg 18] begging. Huh! Look at me. I’m big enough to get along without a Madame Muskat. I have been thrown out of better jobs than hers.
J ULIE
What will you do now, Mister Liliom?
L ILIOM
Now? First of all, I’ll go and get myself—a glass of beer. You see, when something happens to annoy me, I always drink a glass of beer.
J ULIE
Then you are annoyed about losing your job.
L ILIOM
No, only about where I’m going to get the beer.
M ARIE
Well—eh——
L ILIOM
Well—eh—what?
M ARIE
Well—eh—are you going to stay with us, Mister Liliom?
L ILIOM
Will you pay for the beer? [M ARIE looks doubtful; he turns to J ULIE .] Will you? [ She does not answer. ] How much money have you got?
J ULIE
[ Bashfully. ] Eight heller.
L ILIOM
And you? [M ARIE casts down her eyes and does not reply. L ILIOM continues sternly. ] I asked you how much you’ve got? [M ARIE begins to weep softly. ] I understand. Well, you needn’t cry about it. You girls stay here, while I go back to the carousel and get my clothes and things. And when I come back, we’ll go to the Hungarian beer-garden. It’s all right, I’ll pay. Keep your money. [ He exits. M ARIE and J ULIE stand silent, watching him until he has gone. ]
M ARIE
Are you sorry for him?
J ULIE
Are you?
M ARIE
Yes, a little. Why are you looking after him in that funny way?
J ULIE
[ Sits down. ] Nothing—except I’m sorry he lost his job.
M ARIE
[ With a touch of pride. ] It was on our account he lost his job. Because he’s fallen in love with you.
J ULIE
He hasn’t at all.
M ARIE
[ Confidently. ] Oh, yes! he is in love with you. [ Hesitantly, romantically. ] There is someone in love with me, too.
J ULIE
There is? Who?
M ARIE
I—I never mentioned it before, because you hadn’t a lover of your own—but now you have—and I’m free to speak. [ Very grandiloquently. ] My heart has found its mate.
J ULIE
You’re only making it up.
M ARIE
No, it’s true—my heart’s true love——
J ULIE
Who? Who is he?
M ARIE
A soldier.
J ULIE
What kind of a soldier?
M ARIE
I don’t know. Just a soldier. Are there different kinds?
J ULIE
Many different kinds. There are hussars, artillerymen, engineers, infantry—that’s the kind that walks—and——
M ARIE
How can you tell which is which?
J ULIE
By their uniforms.
M ARIE
[ After trying to puzzle it out. ] The conductors on the street cars—are they soldiers?
J ULIE
Certainly not. They’re conductors.
M ARIE
Well, they have uniforms.
J ULIE
But they don’t carry swords or guns.
M ARIE
Oh! [ Thinks it over again; then. ] Well, policemen—are they?
J ULIE
[ With a touch of exasperation. ] Are they what?
M ARIE
Soldiers.
J ULIE
Certainly not. They’re just policemen.
M ARIE
[ Triumphantly. ] But they have uniforms—and they carry weapons, too.
J ULIE
You’re just as dumb as you can be. You don’t go by their uniforms.
M ARIE
But you said——
J ULIE
No, I didn’t. A letter-carrier wears a uniform, too, but that doesn’t make him a soldier.
M ARIE
But if he carried a gun or a sword, would he be——
J ULIE
No, he’d still be a letter-carrier. You can’t go by guns or swords, either.
M ARIE
Well, if you don’t go by the uniforms or the weapons, what do you go by?
J ULIE
By—— [ Tries to put it into words; fails; then breaks off suddenly. ] Oh, you’ll get to know when you’ve lived in the city long enough. You’re nothing but a country girl. When you’ve lived in the city a year, like I have, you’ll know all about it.
M ARIE
[ Half angrily. ] Well, how do you know when you see a real soldier?
J ULIE
By one thing.
M ARIE
What?
J ULIE
One thing—— [ She pauses. M ARIE starts to cry. ] Oh, what are you crying about?
M ARIE
Because you’re making fun of me. . . . You’re a city girl, and I’m just fresh from the country . . . and how am I expected to know a soldier when I see one? . . . You, you ought to tell me, instead of making fun of me——
J ULIE
All right. Listen then, cry-baby. There’s only one way to tell a soldier: by his salute! That’s the only way.
M ARIE
[ Joyfully; with a sigh of relief. ] Ah—that’s good.
J ULIE
What?
M ARIE
I say—it’s all right then—because Wolf—Wolf—— [J ULIE laughs derisively. ] Wolf—that’s his name. [ She weeps again. ]
J ULIE
Crying again? What now?
M ARIE
You’re making fun of me again.
J ULIE
I’m not. But when you say, “Wolf—Wolf—” like that, I have to laugh, don’t I? [ Archly. ] What’s his name again?
M ARIE
I won’t tell you.
J ULIE
All right. If you won’t say it, then he’s no soldier.
M ARIE
I’ll say it.
J ULIE
Go on.
M ARIE
No, I won’t. [ She weeps again. ]
J ULIE
Then he’s not a soldier. I guess he’s a letter-carrier——
M ARIE
No—no—I’d rather say it.
J ULIE
Well, then.
M ARIE
[ Giggling. ] But you mustn’t look at me. You look the other way, and I’ll say it. [J ULIE looks away, M ARIE can hardly restrain her own laughter. ] Wolf! [ She laughs. ] That’s his real name. Wolf, Wolf, Soldier—Wolf!
J ULIE
What kind of a uniform does he wear?
M ARIE
Red.
J ULIE
Red trousers?
M ARIE
No.
J ULIE
Red coat?
M ARIE
No.
J ULIE
What then?
M ARIE
[ Triumphantly. ] His cap!
J ULIE
[ After a long pause. ] He’s just a porter, you dunce. Red cap . . . that’s a porter—and he doesn’t carry a gun or a sword, either.
M ARIE
[ Triumphantly. ] But he salutes. You said yourself that was the only way to tell a soldier——
J ULIE
He doesn’t salute at all. He only greets people——
M ARIE
He salutes me. . . . And if his name is Wolf, that doesn’t prove he ain’t a soldier—he salutes, and he wears a red cap and he stands on guard all day long outside a big building——
J ULIE
What does he do there?
M ARIE
[ Seriously. ] He spits.
J ULIE
[ With contempt. ] He’s nothing—nothing but a common porter.
M ARIE
What’s Liliom?
J ULIE
[ Indignantly. ] Why speak of him? What has he to do with me?
M ARIE
The same as Wolf has to do with me. If you can talk to me like that about Wolf, I can talk to you about Liliom.
J ULIE
He’s nothing to me. He put his arm around me in the carousel. I couldn’t tell him not to put his arm around me after he had done it, could I?
M ARIE
I suppose you didn’t like him to do it?
J ULIE
No.
M ARIE
Then why are you waiting for him? Why don’t you go home?
J ULIE
Why—eh—he said we were to wait for him.
[L ILIOM enters. There is a long silence. ]
L ILIOM
Are you still here? What are you waiting for?
M ARIE
You told us to wait.
L ILIOM
Must you always interfere? No one is talking to you.
M ARIE
You asked us—why we——
L ILIOM
Will you keep your mouth shut? What do you suppose I want with two of you? I meant that one of you was to wait. The other can go home.
M ARIE
All right.
J ULIE
All right. [ Neither starts to go. ]
L ILIOM
One of you goes home. [ To M ARIE .] Where do you work?
M ARIE
At the Breier’s, Damjanovitsch Street, Number 20.
L ILIOM
And you?
J ULIE
I work there, too.
L ILIOM
Well, one of you goes home. Which of you wants to stay? [ There is no answer. ] Come on, speak up, which of you stays?
M ARIE
[ Officiously. ] She’ll lose her job if she stays.
L ILIOM
Who will?
M ARIE
Julie. She has to be back by seven o’clock.
L ILIOM
Is that true? Will they discharge you if you’re not back on time?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
Well, wasn’t I discharged?
J ULIE
Yes—you were discharged, too.
M ARIE
Julie, shall I go?
J ULIE
I—can’t tell you what to do.
M ARIE
All right—stay if you like.
L ILIOM
You’ll be discharged if you do?
M ARIE
Shall I go, Julie?
J ULIE
[ Embarrassed. ] Why do you keep asking me that?
M ARIE
You know best what to do.
J ULIE
[ Profoundly moved; slowly. ] It’s all right, Marie, you can go home.
M ARIE
[ Exits reluctantly, but comes back, and says uncertainly. ] Good-night. [ She waits a moment to see if J ULIE will follow her. J ULIE does not move. M ARIE exits. Meantime it has grown quite dark. During the following scene the gas-lamps far in the [Pg 31] distance are lighted one by one. L ILIOM and J ULIE sit on the bench. From afar, very faintly, comes the music of a calliope. But the music is intermittently heard; now it breaks off, now it resumes again, as if it came down on a fitful wind. Blending with it are the sounds of human voices, now loud, now soft; the blare of a toy trumpet; the confused noises of the show-booths. It grows progressively darker until the end of the scene. There is no moonlight. The spring irridescence glows in the deep blue sky. ]
L ILIOM
Now we’re both discharged. [ She does not answer. From now on they speak gradually lower and lower until the end of the scene, which is played almost in whispers. Whistles softly, then. ] Have you had your supper?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
Want to go eat something at the Garden?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
Anywhere else?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
[ Whistles softly, then. ] You don’t come to this park very often, do you? I’ve only seen you three times. Been here oftener than that?
J ULIE
Oh, yes.
L ILIOM
Did you see me?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
And did you know I was Liliom?
J ULIE
They told me.
L ILIOM
[ Whistles softly, then. ] Have you got a sweetheart?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
Don’t lie to me.
J ULIE
I haven’t. If I had, I’d tell you. I’ve never had one.
L ILIOM
What an awful liar you are. I’ve got a good mind to go away and leave you here.
J ULIE
I’ve never had one.
L ILIOM
Tell that to someone else.
J ULIE
[ Reproachfully. ] Why do you insist I have?
L ILIOM
Because you stayed here with me the first time I asked you to. You know your way around, you do.
J ULIE
No, I don’t, Mister Liliom.
L ILIOM
I suppose you’ll tell me you don’t know why you’re sitting here—like this, in the dark, alone with me—You wouldn’t ’a’ stayed so quick, if you hadn’t done it before—with some soldier, maybe. This isn’t the first time. You wouldn’t have been so ready to stay if it was—what did you stay for, anyhow?
J ULIE
So you wouldn’t be left alone.
L ILIOM
Alone! God, you’re dumb! I don’t need to be alone. I can have all the girls I want. Not only [Pg 34] servant girls like you, but cooks and governesses, even French girls. I could have twenty of them if I wanted to.
J ULIE
I know, Mister Liliom.
L ILIOM
What do you know?
J ULIE
That all the girls are in love with you. But that’s not why I stayed. I stayed because you’ve been so good to me.
L ILIOM
Well, then you can go home.
J ULIE
I don’t want to go home now.
L ILIOM
And what if I go away and leave you sitting here?
J ULIE
If you did, I wouldn’t go home.
L ILIOM
Do you know what you remind me of? A sweetheart I had once—I’ll tell you how I met her—— One night, at closing time, we had put out the lights in the carousel, and just as I was—— [ He is [Pg 35] interrupted by the entrance of two plainclothes P OLICEMEN . They take their stations on either side of the bench. They are police, searching the park for vagabonds. ]
F IRST P OLICEMAN
What are you doing there?
L ILIOM
Me?
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Stand up when you’re spoken to! [ He taps L ILIOM imperatively on the shoulder. ]
F IRST P OLICEMAN
What’s your name?
L ILIOM
Andreas Zavoczki. [J ULIE begins to weep softly. ]
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Stop your bawling. We’re not goin’ to eat you. We are only making our rounds.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
See that he doesn’t get away. [T HE S ECOND P OLICEMAN steps closer to L ILIOM .] What’s your business?
L ILIOM
Barker and bouncer.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
They call him Liliom, Chief. We’ve had him up a couple of times.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
So that’s who you are! Who do you work for now?
L ILIOM
I work for the widow Muskat.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
What are you hanging around here for?
L ILIOM
We’re just sitting here—me and this girl.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Your sweetheart?
L ILIOM
No.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
[ To J ULIE .] And who are you?
J ULIE
Julie Zeller.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Servant girl?
J ULIE
Maid of All Work for Mister Georg Breier, Number Twenty Damjanovitsch Street.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Show your hands.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
[ After examining J ULIE ’ S hand. ] Servant girl.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Why aren’t you at home? What are you doing out here with him?
J ULIE
This is my day out, sir.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
It would be better for you if you didn’t spend it sitting around with a fellow like this.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
They’ll be disappearing in the bushes as soon as we turn our backs.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
He’s only after your money. We know this fine fellow. He picks up you silly servant girls and takes what money you have. Tomorrow you’ll probably be coming around to report him. If you do, I’ll throw you out.
J ULIE
I haven’t any money, sir.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Do you hear that, Liliom?
L ILIOM
I’m not looking for her money.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
[ Nudging him warningly. ] Keep your mouth shut.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
It is my duty to warn you, my child, what kind of company you’re in. He makes a specialty of servant girls. That’s why he works in a carousel. He gets hold of a girl, promises to marry her, then he takes her money and her ring.
J ULIE
But I haven’t got a ring.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
You’re not to talk unless you’re asked a question.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
You be thankful that I’m warning you. It’s nothing to me what you do. I’m not your father, thank God. But I’m telling you what kind of a [Pg 39] fellow he is. By tomorrow morning you’ll be coming around to us to report him. Now you be sensible and go home. You needn’t be afraid of him. This officer will take you home if you’re afraid.
J ULIE
Do I have to go?
F IRST P OLICEMAN
No, you don’t have to go.
J ULIE
Then I’ll stay, sir.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Well, you’ve been warned.
J ULIE
Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Come on, Berkovics. [ The P OLICEMEN exit. J ULIE and L ILIOM sit on the bench again. There is a brief pause. ]
J ULIE
Well, and what then?
L ILIOM
[ Fails to understand. ] Huh?
J ULIE
You were beginning to tell me a story.
L ILIOM
Me?
J ULIE
Yes, about a sweetheart. You said, one night, just as they were putting out the lights of the carousel—— That’s as far as you got.
L ILIOM
Oh, yes, yes, just as the lights were going out, someone came along—a little girl with a big shawl—you know—— She came—eh—from—— Say—tell me—ain’t you—that is, ain’t you at all—afraid of me? The officer told you what kind of a fellow I am—and that I’d take your money away from you——
J ULIE
You couldn’t take it away—I haven’t got any. But if I had—I’d—I’d give it to you—I’d give it all to you.
L ILIOM
You would?
J ULIE
If you asked me for it.
L ILIOM
Have you ever had a fellow you gave money to?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
Haven’t you ever had a sweetheart?
J ULIE
No.
L ILIOM
Someone you used to go walking with. You’ve had one like that?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
A soldier?
J ULIE
He came from the same village I did.
L ILIOM
That’s what all the soldiers say. Where do you come from, anyway?
J ULIE
Not far from here. [ There is a pause. ]
L ILIOM
Were you in love with him?
J ULIE
Why do you keep asking me that all the time, Mister Liliom? I wasn’t in love with him. We only went walking together.
L ILIOM
Where did you walk?
J ULIE
In the park.
L ILIOM
And your virtue? Where did you lose that?
J ULIE
I haven’t got any virtue.
L ILIOM
Well, you had once.
J ULIE
No, I never had. I’m a respectable girl.
L ILIOM
Yes, but you gave the soldier something.
J ULIE
Why do you question me like that, Mister Liliom?
L ILIOM
Did you give him something?
J ULIE
You have to. But I didn’t love him.
L ILIOM
Do you love me?
J ULIE
No, Mister Liliom.
L ILIOM
Then why do you stay here with me?
J ULIE
Um—nothing. [ There is a pause. The music from afar is plainly heard. ]
L ILIOM
Want to dance?
J ULIE
No. I have to be very careful.
L ILIOM
Of what?
J ULIE
My—character.
L ILIOM
Why?
J ULIE
Because I’m never going to marry. If I was going to marry, it would be different. Then I wouldn’t need to worry so much about my character. It doesn’t make any difference if you’re married. But I shan’t marry—and that’s why I’ve got to take care to be a respectable girl.
L ILIOM
Suppose I were to say to you—I’ll marry you.
J ULIE
You?
L ILIOM
That frightens you, doesn’t it? You’re thinking of what the officer said and you’re afraid.
J ULIE
No, I’m not, Mister Liliom. I don’t pay any attention to what he said.
L ILIOM
But you wouldn’t dare to marry anyone like me, would you?
J ULIE
I know that—that—if I loved anyone—it wouldn’t make any difference to me what he—even if I died for it.
L ILIOM
But you wouldn’t marry a rough guy like me—that is,—eh—if you loved me——
J ULIE
Yes, I would—if I loved you, Mister Liliom. [ There is a pause. ]
L ILIOM
[ Whispers. ] Well,—you just said—didn’t you?—that you don’t love me. Well, why don’t you go home then?
J ULIE
It’s too late now, they’d all be asleep.
L ILIOM
Locked out?
J ULIE
Certainly. [ They are silent a while. ]
L ILIOM
I think—that even a low-down good-for-nothing—can make a man of himself.
J ULIE
Certainly. [ They are silent again. A lamp-lighter crosses the stage, lights the lamp over the bench, and exits. ]
L ILIOM
Are you hungry?
J ULIE
No. [ Another pause. ]
L ILIOM
Suppose—you had some money—and I took it from you?
J ULIE
Then you could take it, that’s all.
L ILIOM
[ After another brief silence. ] All I have to do—is go back to her—that Muskat woman—she’ll [Pg 46] be glad to get me back—then I’d be earning my wages again. [ She is silent. The twilight folds darker about them. ]
J ULIE
[ Very softly. ] Don’t go back—to her—— [ Pause. ]
L ILIOM
There are a lot of acacia trees around here. [ Pause. ]
J ULIE
Don’t go back to her—— [ Pause. ]
L ILIOM
She’d take me back the minute I asked her. I know why—she knows, too—— [ Pause. ]
J ULIE
I can smell them, too—acacia blossoms—— [ There is a pause. Some blossoms drift down from the tree-top to the bench. L ILIOM picks one up and smells it. ]
L ILIOM
White acacias!
J ULIE
[ After a brief pause. ] The wind brings them down. [ They are silent. There is a long pause before ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — A photographer’s “studio,” operated by the H OLLUNDERS , on the fringe of the park. It is a dilapidated hovel. The general entrance is Back Left. Back Right there is a window with a sofa before it. The outlook is on the amusement park with perhaps a small Ferris-wheel or the scaffolding of a “scenic-railway” in the background.
The door to the kitchen is up Left and a black-curtained entrance to the dark room is down Left. Just in front of the dark room stands the camera on its tripod. Against the back wall, between the door and window, stands the inevitable photographer’s background-screen, ready to be wheeled into place.
It is forenoon. When the curtain rises, M ARIE and J ULIE are discovered.
M ARIE
And he beat up Hollinger?
J ULIE
Yes, he gave him an awful licking.
M ARIE
But Hollinger is bigger than he is.
J ULIE
He licked him just the same. It isn’t size that counts, you know, it’s cleverness. And Liliom’s awful quick.
M ARIE
And then he was arrested?
J ULIE
Yes, they arrested him, but they let him go the next day. That makes twice in the two months we’ve been living here that Liliom’s been arrested and let go again.
M ARIE
Why do they let him go?
J ULIE
Because he is innocent.
[M OTHER H OLLUNDER , a very old woman, sharp-tongued, but in reality quite warm-hearted beneath her formidable exterior, enters at back carrying a few sticks of firewood, and scolding, half to herself. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
Always wanting something, but never willing to work for it. He won’t work, and he won’t steal, [Pg 49] but he’ll use up a poor old widow’s last bit of firewood. He’ll do that cheerfully enough! A big, strong lout like that lying around all day resting his lazy bones! He ought to be ashamed to look decent people in the face.
J ULIE
I’m sorry, Mother Hollunder. . . .
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
Sorry! Better be sorry the lazy good-for-nothing ain’t in jail where he belongs instead of in the way of honest, hard-working people. [ She exits into the kitchen. ]
M ARIE
Who’s that?
J ULIE
Mrs. Hollunder—my aunt. This is her [ with a sweeping gesture that takes in the camera, dark room and screen ] studio. She lets us live here for nothing.
M ARIE
What’s she fetching the wood for?
J ULIE
She brings us everything we need. If it weren’t for her I don’t know what would become of us. She’s a good-hearted soul even if her tongue is sharp. [ There is a pause. ]
M ARIE
[ Shyly. ] Do you know—I’ve found out. He’s not a soldier.
J ULIE
Do you still see him?
M ARIE
Oh, yes.
J ULIE
Often?
M ARIE
Very often. He’s asked me——
J ULIE
To marry you?
M ARIE
To marry me.
J ULIE
You see—that proves he isn’t a soldier. [ There is another pause. ]
M ARIE
[ Abashed, yet a bit boastfully. ] Do you know what I’m doing—I’m flirting with him.
J ULIE
Flirting?
M ARIE
Yes. He asks me to go to the park—and I say I can’t go. Then he coaxes me, and promises me [Pg 51] a new scarf for my head if I go. But I don’t go—even then. . . . So then he walks all the way home with me—and I bid him good-night at the door.
J ULIE
Is that what you call flirting?
M ARIE
Um-hm! It’s sinful, but it’s so thrilling.
J ULIE
Do you ever quarrel?
M ARIE
[ Grandly. ] Only when our Passionate Love surges up.
J ULIE
Your passionate love?
M ARIE
Yes. . . . He takes my hand and we walk along together. Then he wants to swing hands, but I won’t let him. I say: “Don’t swing my hand”; and he says, “Don’t be so stubborn.” And then he tries to swing my hand again, but still I don’t let him. And for a long time I don’t let him—until in the end I let him. Then we walk along swinging hands—up and down, up and down—just like this. That is Passionate Love. It’s sinful, but it’s awfully thrilling.
J ULIE
You’re happy, aren’t you?
M ARIE
Happier than—anything—— But the most beautiful thing on earth is Ideal Love.
J ULIE
What kind is that?
M ARIE
Daylight comes about three in the morning this time of the year. When we’ve been up that long we’re all through with flirting and Passionate Love—and then our Ideal Love comes to the surface. It comes like this: I’ll be sitting on the bench and Wolf, he holds my hand tight—and he puts his cheek against my cheek and we don’t talk . . . we just sit there very quiet. . . . And after a while he gets sleepy, and his head sinks down, and he falls asleep . . . but even in his sleep he holds tight to my hand. And I—I sit perfectly still just looking around me and taking long, deep breaths—for by that time it’s morning and the trees and flowers are fresh with dew. But Wolf doesn’t smell anything because he’s so fast asleep. And I get awfully sleepy myself, but I don’t sleep. And we sit like that for a long time. That is Ideal Love—— [ There is a long pause. ]
J ULIE
[ Regretfully; uneasily. ] He went out last night and he hasn’t come home yet.
M ARIE
Here are sixteen Kreuzer. It was supposed to be carfare to take my young lady to the conservatory—eight there and eight back—but I made her walk. Here—save it with the rest.
J ULIE
This makes three gulden, forty-six.
M ARIE
Three gulden, forty-six.
J ULIE
He won’t work at all.
M ARIE
Too lazy?
J ULIE
No. He never learned a trade, you see, and he can’t just go and be a day-laborer—so he just does nothing.
M ARIE
That ain’t right.
J ULIE
No. Have the Breiers got a new maid yet?
M ARIE
They’ve had three since you left. You know, Wolf’s going to take a new job. He’s going to work for the city. He’ll get rent free, too.
J ULIE
He won’t go back to work at the carousel either. I ask him why, but he won’t tell me—— Last Monday he hit me.
M ARIE
Did you hit him back?
J ULIE
No.
M ARIE
Why don’t you leave him?
J ULIE
I don’t want to.
M ARIE
I would. I’d leave him. [ There is a strained silence. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Enters, carrying a pot of water; muttering aloud. ] He can play cards, all right. He can fight, too; and take money from poor servant girls. And the police turn their heads the other way—— The carpenter was here.
J ULIE
Is that water for the soup?
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
The carpenter was here. There’s a man for you! Dark, handsome, lots of hair, a respectable widower with two children—and money, and a good paying business.
J ULIE
[ To M ARIE .] It’s three gulden sixty-six, not forty-six.
M ARIE
Yes, that’s what I make it—sixty-six.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He wants to take her out of this and marry her. This is the fifth time he’s been here. He has two children, but——
J ULIE
Please don’t bother, Aunt Hollunder, I’ll get the water myself.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He’s waiting outside now.
J ULIE
Send him away.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He’ll only come back again—and first thing you know that vagabond will get jealous and there’ll be a fight. [ Goes out, muttering. ] Oh, he’s ready enough to fight, he is. Strike a poor little girl like that! Ought to be ashamed of himself! And the police just let him go on doing as he pleases. [ Still scolding, she exits at back. ]
M ARIE
A carpenter wants to marry you?
J ULIE
Yes.
M ARIE
Why don’t you?
J ULIE
Because——
M ARIE
Liliom doesn’t support you, and he beats you—he thinks he can do whatever he likes just because he’s Liliom. He’s a bad one.
J ULIE
He’s not really bad.
M ARIE
That night you sat on the bench together—he was gentle then.
J ULIE
Yes, he was gentle.
M ARIE
And afterwards he got wild again.
J ULIE
Afterwards he got wild—sometimes. But that night on the bench . . . he was gentle. He’s gentle now, sometimes, very gentle. After supper, when he stands there and listens to the music of the carousel, something comes over him—and he is gentle.
M ARIE
Does he say anything?
J ULIE
He doesn’t say anything. He gets thoughtful and very quiet, and his big eyes stare straight ahead of him.
M ARIE
Into your eyes?
J ULIE
Not exactly. He’s unhappy because he isn’t working. That’s really why he hit me on Monday.
M ARIE
That’s a fine reason for hitting you! Beats his wife because he isn’t working, the ruffian!
J ULIE
It preys on his mind——
M ARIE
Did he hurt you?
J ULIE
[ Very eagerly. ] Oh, no.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Enters haughtily. ] Good morning. Is Liliom home?
J ULIE
No.
M RS . M USKAT
Gone out?
J ULIE
He hasn’t come home yet.
M RS . M USKAT
I’ll wait for him. [ She sits down. ]
M ARIE
You’ve got a lot of gall—to come here.
M RS . M USKAT
Are you the lady of the house, my dear? Better look out or you’ll get a slap in the mouth.
M ARIE
How dare you set foot in Julie’s house?
M RS . M USKAT
[ To J ULIE .] Pay no attention to her, my child. You know what brings me here. That vagabond, that good-for-nothing, I’ve come to give him his bread and butter back.
M ARIE
He’s not dependent on you for his bread.
M RS . M USKAT
[ To J ULIE .] Just ignore her, my child. She’s just ignorant.
M ARIE
[ Going. ] Good-bye.
J ULIE
Good-bye.
M ARIE
[ In the doorway, calling back. ] Sixty-six.
J ULIE
Yes, sixty-six.
M ARIE
Good-bye. [ She exits. J ULIE starts to go toward the kitchen. ]
M RS . M USKAT
I paid him a krone a day, and on Sunday a gulden. And he got all the beer and cigars he wanted from [Pg 60] the customers. [J ULIE pauses on the threshold, but does not answer. ] And he’d rather starve than beg my pardon. Well, I don’t insist on that. I’ll take him back without it. [J ULIE does not answer. ] The fact is the people ask for him—and, you see, I’ve got to consider business first. It’s nothing to me if he starves. I wouldn’t be here at all, if it wasn’t for business—— [ She pauses, for L ILIOM and F ICSUR have entered. ]
J ULIE
Mrs. Muskat is here.
L ILIOM
I see she is.
J ULIE
You might say good-morning.
L ILIOM
What for? And what do you want, anyhow?
J ULIE
I don’t want anything.
L ILIOM
Then keep your mouth shut. Next thing you’ll be starting to nag again about my being out all night and out of work and living on your relations——
J ULIE
I’m not saying anything.
L ILIOM
But it’s all on the tip of your tongue—I know you—now don’t start or you’ll get another. [ He paces angrily up and down. They are all a bit afraid of him, and shrink and look away as he passes them. F ICSUR shambles from place to place, his eyes cast down as if he were searching for something on the floor. ]
M RS . M USKAT
[ Suddenly, to F ICSUR .] You’re always dragging him out to play cards and drink with you. I’ll have you locked up, I will.
F ICSUR
I don’t want to talk to you. You’re too common. [ He goes out by the door at back and lingers there in plain view. There is a pause. ]
J ULIE
Mrs. Muskat is here.
L ILIOM
Well, why doesn’t she open her mouth, if she has anything to say?
M RS . M USKAT
Why do you go around with this man Ficsur? He’ll get you mixed up in one of his robberies first thing you know.
L ILIOM
What’s it to you who I go with? I do what I please. What do you want?
M RS . M USKAT
You know what I want.
L ILIOM
No, I don’t.
M RS . M USKAT
What do you suppose I want? Think I’ve come just to pay a social call?
L ILIOM
Do I owe you anything?
M RS . M USKAT
Yes, you do—but that’s not what I came for. You’re a fine one to come to for money! You earn so much these days! You know very well what I’m here for.
L ILIOM
You’ve got Hollinger at the carousel, haven’t you?
M RS . M USKAT
Sure I have.
L ILIOM
Well, what else do you want? He’s as good as I am.
M RS . M USKAT
You’re quite right, my boy. He’s every bit as good as you are. I’d not dream of letting him go. But one isn’t enough any more. There’s work enough for two——
L ILIOM
One was enough when I was there.
M RS . M USKAT
Well, I might let Hollinger go——
L ILIOM
Why let him go, if he’s so good?
M RS . M USKAT
[ Shrugs her shoulders. ] Yes, he’s good. [ Not once until now has she looked at L ILIOM .]
L ILIOM
[ To J ULIE .] Ask your aunt if I can have a cup of coffee. [J ULIE exits into the kitchen. ] So Hollinger is good, is he?
M RS . M USKAT
[ Crosses to him and looks him, in the face. ] Why don’t you stay home and sleep at night? You’re a sight to look at.
L ILIOM
He’s good, is he?
M RS . M USKAT
Push your hair back from your forehead.
L ILIOM
Let my hair be. It’s nothing to you.
M RS . M USKAT
All right. But if I’d told you to let it hang down over your eyes you’d have pushed it back—I hear you’ve been beating her, this—this——
L ILIOM
None of your business.
M RS . M USKAT
You’re a fine fellow! Beating a skinny little thing like that! If you’re tired of her, leave her, but there’s no use beating the poor——
L ILIOM
Leave her, eh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?
M RS . M USKAT
Don’t flatter yourself. [ Quite embarrassed. ] Serves me right, too. If I had any sense I wouldn’t have run after you—— My God, the things one must do for the sake of business! If I could only sell the carousel I wouldn’t be sitting here. . . . Come, Liliom, if you have any sense, you’ll come back. I’ll pay you well.
L ILIOM
The carousel is crowded just the same . . . without me?
M RS . M USKAT
Crowded, yes—but it’s not the same.
L ILIOM
Then you admit that you do miss me.
M RS . M USKAT
Miss you? Not I. But the silly girls miss you. They’re always asking for you. Well, are you going to be sensible and come back?
L ILIOM
And leave—her?
M RS . M USKAT
You beat her, don’t you?
L ILIOM
No, I don’t beat her. What’s all this damn fool talk about beating her? I hit her once—that was all—and now the whole city seems to be talking about it. You don’t call that beating her, do you?
M RS . M USKAT
All right, all right. I take it back. I don’t want to get mixed up in it.
L ILIOM
Beating her! As if I’d beat her——
M RS . M USKAT
I can’t make out why you’re so concerned about her. You’ve been married to her two months—it’s plain to see that you’re sick of it—and out there is the carousel—and the show booths—and money—and you’d throw it all away. For what? Heavens, how can anyone be such a fool? [ Looks at him appraisingly. ] Where have you been all night? You look awful.
L ILIOM
It’s no business of yours.
M RS . M USKAT
You never used to look like that. This life is telling on you. [ Pauses. ] Do you know—I’ve got a new organ.
L ILIOM
[ Softly. ] I know.
M RS . M USKAT
How did you know?
L ILIOM
You can hear it—from here.
M RS . M USKAT
It’s a good one, eh?
L ILIOM
[ Wistfully. ] Very good. Fine. It roars and snorts—so fine.
M RS . M USKAT
You should hear it close by—it’s heavenly. Even the carousel seems to know . . . it goes quicker. I got rid of those two horses—you know, the ones with the broken ears?
L ILIOM
What have you put in their place?
M RS . M USKAT
Guess.
L ILIOM
Zebras?
M RS . M USKAT
No—an automobile.
L ILIOM
[ Transported. ] An automobile——
M RS . M USKAT
Yes. If you’ve got any sense you’ll come back. What good are you doing here? Out there is your art , the only thing you’re fit for. You are an artist, not a respectable married man.
L ILIOM
Leave her—this little——
M RS . M USKAT
She’ll be better off. She’ll go back and be a servant girl again. As for you—you’re an artist and you belong among artists. All the beer you want, cigars, a krone a day and a gulden on Sunday, and the girls, Liliom, the girls—I’ve always treated you right, haven’t I? I bought you a watch, and——
L ILIOM
She’s not that kind. She’d never be a servant girl again.
M RS . M USKAT
I suppose you think she’d kill herself. Don’t worry. Heavens, if every girl was to commit suicide just because her—— [ Finishes with a gesture. ]
L ILIOM
[ Stares at her a moment, considering, then with sudden, smiling animation. ] So the people don’t like Hollinger?
M RS . M USKAT
You know very well they don’t, you rascal.
L ILIOM
Well——
M RS . M USKAT
You’ve always been happy at the carousel. It’s a great life—pretty girls and beer and cigars and music—a great life and an easy one. I’ll tell you what—come back and I’ll give you a ring that used to belong to my dear departed husband. Well, will you come?
L ILIOM
She’s not that kind. She’d never be a servant girl again. But—but—for my part—if I decide—that needn’t make any difference. I can go on living with her even if I do go back to my art——
M RS . M USKAT
My God!
L ILIOM
What’s the matter?
M RS . M USKAT
Who ever heard of a married man—I suppose you think all girls would be pleased to know that you were running home to your wife every night. It’s ridiculous! When the people found out they’d laugh themselves sick——
L ILIOM
I know what you want.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Refuses to meet his gaze. ] You flatter yourself.
L ILIOM
You’ll give me that ring, too?
M RS . M USKAT
[ Pushes the hair back from his forehead. ] Yes.
L ILIOM
I’m not happy in this house.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Still stroking his hair. ] Nobody takes care of you. [ They are silent. J ULIE enters, carrying a cup of coffee. M RS . M USKAT removes her hand from L ILIOM ’ S head. There is a pause. ]
L ILIOM
Do you want anything?
J ULIE
No. [ There is a pause. She exits slowly into the kitchen. ]
M RS . M USKAT
The old woman says there is a carpenter, a widower, who——
L ILIOM
I know—I know——
J ULIE
[ Reëntering. ] Liliom, before I forget, I have something to tell you.
L ILIOM
All right.
J ULIE
I’ve been wanting to tell you—in fact, I was going to tell you yesterday——
L ILIOM
Go ahead.
J ULIE
But I must tell you alone—if you’ll come in—it will only take a minute.
L ILIOM
Don’t you see I’m busy now? Here I am talking business and you interrupt with——
J ULIE
It’ll only take a minute.
L ILIOM
Get out of here, or——
J ULIE
But I tell you it will only take a minute——
L ILIOM
Will you get out of here?
J ULIE
[ Courageously. ] No.
L ILIOM
[ Rising. ] What’s that!
J ULIE
No.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Rises, too. ] Now don’t start fighting. I’ll go out and look at the photographs in the show-case a while and come back later for your answer. [ She exits at back. ]
J ULIE
You can hit me again if you like—don’t look at me like that. I’m not afraid of you. . . . I’m not afraid of anyone. I told you I had something to tell you.
L ILIOM
Well, out with it—quick.
J ULIE
I can’t tell you so quick. Why don’t you drink your coffee?
L ILIOM
Is that what you wanted to tell me?
J ULIE
No. By the time you’ve drunk your coffee I’ll have told you.
L ILIOM
[ Gets the coffee and sips it. ] Well?
J ULIE
Yesterday my head ached—and you asked me——
L ILIOM
Yes——
J ULIE
Well—you see—that’s what it is——
L ILIOM
Are you sick?
J ULIE
No. . . . But you wanted to know what my headaches came from—and you said I seemed—changed.
L ILIOM
Did I? I guess I meant the carpenter.
J ULIE
I’ve been—what? The carpenter? No. It’s something entirely different—it’s awful hard to tell—but you’ll have to know sooner or later—I’m not a bit—scared—because it’s a perfectly natural thing——
L ILIOM
[ Puts the coffee cup on the table. ] What?
J ULIE
When—when a man and woman—live together——
L ILIOM
Yes.
J ULIE
I’m going to have a baby. [ She exits swiftly at back. There is a pause. F ICSUR appears at the open window and looks in. ]
L ILIOM
Ficsur! [F ICSUR sticks his head in. ] Say, Ficsur,—Julie is going to have a baby.
F ICSUR
Yes? What of it?
L ILIOM
Nothing. [ Suddenly. ] Get out of here. [F ICSUR ’ S head is quickly withdrawn. M RS . M USKAT reënters. ]
M RS . M USKAT
Has she gone?
L ILIOM
Yes.
M RS . M USKAT
I might as well give you ten kronen in advance. [ Opens her purse. L ILIOM takes up his coffee cup. ] Here you are. [ She proffers some coins. L ILIOM ignores her. ] Why don’t you take it?
L ILIOM
[ Very nonchalantly, his cup poised ready to drink. ] Go home, Mrs. Muskat.
M RS . M USKAT
What’s the matter with you?
L ILIOM
Go home [ sips his coffee ] and let me finish my coffee in peace. Don’t you see I’m at breakfast?
M RS . M USKAT
Have you gone crazy?
L ILIOM
Will you get out of here? [ Turns to her threateningly. ]
M RS . M USKAT
[ Restoring the coins to her purse. ] I’ll never speak to you again as long as you live.
L ILIOM
That worries me a lot.
M RS . M USKAT
Good-bye!
L ILIOM
Good-bye. [ As she exits, he calls. ] Ficsur! [F ICSUR enters. ] Tell me, Ficsur. You said you knew a way to get a whole lot of money——
F ICSUR
Sure I do.
L ILIOM
How much?
F ICSUR
More than you ever had in your life before. You leave it to an old hand like me.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Enters from the kitchen. ] In the morning he must have his coffee, and at noon his soup, and in the evening coffee again—and plenty of firewood—and I’m expected to furnish it all. Give me back my cup and saucer.
[ The show booths of the amusement-park have opened for business. The familiar noises begin to sound; clear above them all, but far in the distance, sounds the organ of the carousel. ]
L ILIOM
Now, Aunt Hollunder. [ From now until the fall of the curtain it is apparent that the sound of the organ makes him more and more uneasy. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
And you, you vagabond, get out of here this minute or I’ll call my son——
F ICSUR
I have nothing to do with the likes of him. He’s too common. [ But he slinks out at back. ]
L ILIOM
Aunt Hollunder!
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
What now?
L ILIOM
When your son was born—when you brought him into the world——
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
Well?
L ILIOM
Nothing.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Muttering as she exits. ] Sleep it off, you good-for-nothing lout. Drink and play cards all night long—that’s all you know how to do—and take the bread out of poor people’s mouths—you can do that, too. [ She exits. ]
L ILIOM
Ficsur!
F ICSUR
[ At the window. ] Julie’s going to have a baby. You told me before.
L ILIOM
This scheme—about the cashier of the leather factory—there’s money in it——
F ICSUR
Lots of money—but—it takes two to pull it off.
L ILIOM
[ Meditatively. ] Yes. [ Uneasily. ] All right, Ficsur. Go away—and come back later.
[F ICSUR vanishes. The organ in the distant carousel drones incessantly. L ILIOM listens a while, then goes to the door and calls. ]
L ILIOM
Aunt Hollunder! [ With naïve joy. ] Julie’s going to have a baby. [ Then he goes to the window, jumps on the sofa, looks out. Suddenly, in a voice that overtops the droning of the organ, he shouts as if addressing the far-off carousel. ] I’m going to be a father.
J ULIE
[ Enters from the kitchen. ] Liliom! What’s the matter? What’s happened?
L ILIOM
[ Coming down from the sofa. ] Nothing. [ Throws himself on the sofa, buries his face in the cushion. J ULIE watches him a moment, comes over to him and covers him with a shawl. Then she goes [Pg 80] on tip-toe to the door at back and remains standing in the doorway, looking out and listening to the droning of the organ. ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — The setting is the same, later that afternoon. L ILIOM is sitting opposite F ICSUR , who is teaching him a song. J ULIE hovers in the background, engaged in some household task.
F ICSUR
Listen now. Here’s the third verse. [ Sings hoarsely. ]
“Look out, look out, my pretty lad.
The damn police are on your trail;
The nicest girl you ever had
Has now commenced to weep and wail:
Look out here comes the damn police,
The damn police,
The damn police,
Look out here comes the damn police,
They’ll get you every time.”
L ILIOM
[ Sings. ]
“Look out, look out, my pretty lad.
The damn police——”
F ICSUR , L ILIOM
[ Sing together. ]
“Are on your trail
The nicest girl you ever had
Has now commenced to weep and wail.”
L ILIOM
[ Alone. ]
“Look out here comes the damn police,
The damn police,
The damn police——”
[J ULIE , troubled and uneasy, looks from one to the other, then exits into the kitchen. ]
F ICSUR
[ When she has gone, comes quickly over to L ILIOM and speaks furtively. ] As you go down Franzen Street you come to the railroad embankment. Beyond that—all the way to the leather factory—there’s not a thing in sight, not even a watchman’s hut.
L ILIOM
And does he always come that way?
F ICSUR
Yes. Not along the embankment, but down below along the path across the fields. Since last [Pg 83] year he’s been going alone. Before that he always used to have someone with him.
L ILIOM
Every Saturday?
F ICSUR
Every Saturday.
L ILIOM
And the money? Where does he keep it?
F ICSUR
In a leather bag. The whole week’s pay for the workmen at the factory.
L ILIOM
Much?
F ICSUR
Sixteen thousand kronen. Quite a haul, what?
L ILIOM
What’s his name?
F ICSUR
Linzman. He’s a Jew.
L ILIOM
The cashier?
F ICSUR
Yes—but when he gets a knife between his ribs—or if I smash his skull for him—he won’t be a cashier any more.
L ILIOM
Does he have to be killed?
F ICSUR
No, he doesn’t have to be. He can give up the money without being killed—but most of these cashiers are peculiar—they’d rather be killed.
[J ULIE reënters, pretends to get something on the other side of the room, then exits at back. During the ensuing dialogue she keeps coming in and out in the same way, showing plainly that she is suspicious and anxious. She attempts to overhear what they are saying and, in spite of their caution, does catch a word here and there, which adds to her disquiet. F ICSUR , catching sight of her, abruptly changes the conversation. ]
F ICSUR
And the next verse is:
“And when you’re in the prison cell
They’ll feed you bread and water.”
F ICSUR AND L ILIOM
[ Sing together. ]
“They’ll make your little sweetheart tell
Them all the things you brought her.
Look out here comes the damn police,
The damn police,
The damn police.
Look out here comes the damn police
They’ll get you every time.”
L ILIOM
[ Sings alone. ]
“And when you’re in the prison cell
They’ll feed you bread and water——”
[ Breaks off as J ULIE exits. ]
And when it’s done, do we start right off for America?
F ICSUR
No.
L ILIOM
What then?
F ICSUR
We bury the money for six months. That’s the usual time. And after the sixth month we dig it up again.
L ILIOM
And then?
F ICSUR
Then you go on living just as usual for six months more—you don’t touch a heller of the money.
L ILIOM
In six months the baby will be born.
F ICSUR
Then we’ll take the baby with us, too. Three months before the time you’ll go to work so as to be able to say you saved up your wages to get to America.
L ILIOM
Which of us goes up and talks to him?
F ICSUR
One of us talks to him with his mouth and the other talks with his knife. Depends on which you’d rather do. I’ll tell you what—you talk to him with your mouth.
L ILIOM
Do you hear that?
F ICSUR
What?
L ILIOM
Outside . . . like the rattle of swords. [F ICSUR listens. After a pause, L ILIOM continues. ] What do I say to him?
F ICSUR
You say good evening to him and: “Excuse me, sir; can you tell me the time?”
L ILIOM
And then what?
F ICSUR
By that time I’ll have stuck him—and then you take your knife—— [ He stops as a P OLICEMAN enters at back. ]
P OLICEMAN
Good-day!
F ICSUR , L ILIOM
[ In unison. ] Good-day!
F ICSUR
[ Calling toward the kitchen. ] Hey, photographer, come out. . . . Here’s a customer. [ There is a pause. The P OLICEMAN waits. F ICSUR sings softly. ]
“And when you’re in the prison cell
They’ll feed you bread and water
They’ll make your little sweetheart tell.”
L ILIOM , F ICSUR
[ Sing together, low. ]
“Them all the things you brought her.
Look out here comes the——”
[ They hum the rest so as not to let the P OLICEMAN hear the words “the damn police.” As they sing, M RS . H OLLUNDER and her son enter. ]
P OLICEMAN
Do you make cabinet photographs?
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
Certainly, sir. [ Points to a rack of photographs on the wall. ] Take your choice, sir. Would you like one full length?
P OLICEMAN
Yes, full length. [M OTHER H OLLUNDER pushes out the camera while her son poses the P OLICEMAN , runs from him to the camera and back again, now altering the pose, now ducking under the black cloth and pushing the camera nearer. Meanwhile M OTHER H OLLUNDER has fetched a plate from the dark room and thrust it in the camera. While this is going on, L ILIOM and F ICSUR , their heads together, speak in very low tones. ]
L ILIOM
Belong around here?
F ICSUR
Not around here.
L ILIOM
Where, then?
F ICSUR
Suburban. [ There is a pause. ]
L ILIOM
[ Bursts out suddenly in a rather grotesquely childish and overstrained lament. ] O God, what a dirty life I’m leading—God, God!
F ICSUR
[ Reassuring him benevolently. ] Over in America it will be better, all right.
L ILIOM
What’s over there?
F ICSUR
[ Virtuously. ] Factories . . . industries——
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
[ To the P OLICEMAN .] Now, quite still, please. One, two, three. [ Deftly removes the cover of the lens and in a few seconds restores it. ] Thank you.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
The picture will be ready in five minutes.
P OLICEMAN
Good. I’ll come back in five minutes. How much do I owe you?
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
[ With exaggerated deference. ] You don’t need to pay in advance, Mr. Commissioner. [ The P OLICEMAN salutes condescendingly and exits at back. M OTHER H OLLUNDER carries the plate into the dark room. Y OUNG H OLLUNDER , after pushing the camera back in place, follows her. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Muttering angrily as she passes F ICSUR and L ILIOM .] You hang around and dirty the whole place up! Why don’t you go take a walk? Things are going so well with you that you have to sing, eh? [ Confronting F ICSUR suddenly. ] Weren’t you frightened sick when you saw the policeman?
F ICSUR
[ With loathing. ] Go ’way, or I’ll step on you. [ She exits into the dark room. ]
L ILIOM
They like Hollinger at the carousel?
F ICSUR
I should say they do.
L ILIOM
Did you see the Muskat woman, too?
F ICSUR
Sure. She takes care of Hollinger’s hair.
L ILIOM
Combs his hair?
F ICSUR
She fixes him all up.
L ILIOM
Let her fix him all she likes.
F ICSUR
[ Urging him toward the kitchen door. ] Go on. Now’s your chance.
L ILIOM
What for?
F ICSUR
To get the knife.
L ILIOM
What knife?
F ICSUR
The kitchen knife. I’ve got a pocket-knife, but if he shows fight, we’ll let him have the big knife.
L ILIOM
What for? If he gets ugly, I’ll bat him one over the head that’ll make him squint for the rest of his life.
F ICSUR
You’ve got to have something on you. You can’t slit his throat with a bat over the head.
L ILIOM
Must his throat be slit?
F ICSUR
No, it mustn’t. But if he asks for it. [ There is a pause. ] You’d like to sail on the big steamer, wouldn’t you? And you want to see the factories over there, don’t you? But you’re not willing to inconvenience yourself a little for them.
L ILIOM
If I take the knife, Julie will see me.
F ICSUR
Take it so she won’t see you.
L ILIOM
[ Advances a few paces toward the kitchen. The P OLICEMAN enters at back. L ILIOM knocks on the door of the dark room. ] Here’s the policeman!
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Coming out. ] One minute more, please. Just a minute. [ She reënters the dark room. L ILIOM [Pg 93] hesitates a moment, then exits into the kitchen. The P OLICEMAN scrutinizes F ICSUR mockingly. F ICSUR returns his stare, walks a few paces toward him, then deliberately turns his back. Suddenly he wheels around, points at the P OLICEMAN and addresses him in a teasing, childish tone. ] Christiana Street at the corner of Retti!
P OLICEMAN
[ Amazed, self-conscious. ] How do you know that?
F ICSUR
I used to practice my profession in that neighborhood.
P OLICEMAN
What is your profession?
F ICSUR
Professor of pianola—— [ The P OLICEMAN glares, aware that the man is joking with him, twirls his moustache indignantly. Y OUNG H OLLUNDER comes out of the dark room and gives him the finished pictures. ]
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
Here you are, sir. [ The P OLICEMAN examines the photographs, pays for them, starts to go, stops, glares at F ICSUR and exits. When he is gone, F ICSUR [Pg 94] goes to the doorway and looks out after him. Y OUNG H OLLUNDER exits. L ILIOM reënters, buttoning his coat. ]
F ICSUR
[ Turns, sees L ILIOM .] What are you staring at?
L ILIOM
I’m not staring.
F ICSUR
What then are you doing?
L ILIOM
I’m thinking it over.
F ICSUR
[ Comes very close to him. ] Tell me then—what will you say to him?
L ILIOM
[ Unsteadily. ] I’ll say—“Good evening—Excuse me, sir—Can you tell me the time?” And suppose he answers me, what do I say to him?
F ICSUR
He won’t answer you.
L ILIOM
Don’t you think so?
F ICSUR
No. [ Feeling for the knife under L ILIOM ’ S coat. ] Where is it? Where did you put it?
L ILIOM
[ Stonily. ] Left side.
F ICSUR
That’s right—over your heart. [ Feels it. ] Ah—there it is—there—there’s the blade—quite a big fellow, isn’t it—ah, here it begins to get narrower. [ Reaches the tip of the knife. ] And here is its eye—that’s what it sees with. [J ULIE enters from the kitchen, passes them slowly, watching them in silent terror, then stops. F ICSUR nudges L ILIOM .] Sing, come on, sing!
L ILIOM
[ In a quavering voice. ]
“Look out for the damn police.”
F ICSUR
[ Joining in, cheerily, loudly, marking time with the swaying of his body. ]
“Look out, look out, my pretty lad.”
L ILIOM
“—look out, my pretty lad.” [J ULIE goes out at back. L ILIOM ’ S glance follows her. When she has [Pg 96] gone, he turns to F ICSUR .] At night—in my dreams—if his ghost comes back—what will I do then?
F ICSUR
His ghost won’t never come back.
L ILIOM
Why not?
F ICSUR
A Jew’s ghost don’t come back.
L ILIOM
Well then—afterwards——
F ICSUR
[ Impatiently. ] What do you mean—afterwards?
L ILIOM
In the next world—when I come up before the Lord God—what’ll I say then?
F ICSUR
The likes of you will never come up before Him.
L ILIOM
Why not?
F ICSUR
Have you ever come up before the high court?
L ILIOM
No.
F ICSUR
Our kind comes up before the police magistrate—and the highest we ever get is the criminal court.
L ILIOM
Will it be the same in the next world?
F ICSUR
Just the same. We’ll come up before a police magistrate, same as we did in this world.
L ILIOM
A police magistrate?
F ICSUR
Sure. For the rich folks—the Heavenly Court. For us poor people—only a police magistrate. For the rich folks—fine music and angels. For us——
L ILIOM
For us?
F ICSUR
For us, my son, there’s only justice. In the next world there’ll be lots of justice, yes, nothing but justice. And where there’s justice there must be police magistrates; and where there’re police magistrates, people like us get——
L ILIOM
[ Interrupting. ] Good evening. Excuse me, sir, can you tell me the time? [ Lays his hand over his heart. ]
F ICSUR
What do you put your hand there for?
L ILIOM
My heart is jumping—under the knife.
F ICSUR
Put it on the other side then. [ Looks out at the sky. ] It’s time we started—we’ll walk slow——
L ILIOM
It’s too early.
F ICSUR
Come on. [ As they are about to go, J ULIE appears in the doorway at back, obstructing the way. ]
J ULIE
Where are you going with him?
L ILIOM
Where am I going with him?
J ULIE
Stay home.
L ILIOM
No.
J ULIE
Stay home. It’s going to rain soon, and you’ll get wet.
F ICSUR
It won’t rain.
J ULIE
How do you know?
F ICSUR
I always get notice in advance.
J ULIE
Stay home. This evening the carpenter’s coming. I’ve asked him to give you work.
L ILIOM
I’m not a carpenter.
J ULIE
[ More and more anxious, though she tries to conceal it. ] Stay home. Marie’s coming with her intended to have their picture taken. She wants to introduce us to her intended husband.
L ILIOM
I’ve seen enough intended husbands——
J ULIE
Stay home. Marie’s bringing some money, and I’ll give it all to you.
L ILIOM
[ Approaching the door. ] I’m going—for a walk—with Ficsur. We’ll be right back.
J ULIE
[ Forcing a smile to keep back her tears. ] If you stay home, I’ll get you a glass of beer—or wine, if you prefer.
F ICSUR
Coming or not?
J ULIE
I’m not angry with you any more for hitting me.
L ILIOM
[ Gruffly, but his gruffness is simulated to hide the fact that he cannot bear the sight of her suffering. ] Stand out of the way—or I’ll—— [ He clenches his fist. ] Let me out!
J ULIE
[ Trembling. ] What have you got under your coat?
L ILIOM
[ Produces from his pocket a greasy pack of cards. ] Cards.
J ULIE
[ Trembling, speaks very low. ] What’s under your coat?
L ILIOM
Let me out!
J ULIE
[ Obstructing the way. Speaks quickly, eagerly, in a last effort to detain him. ] Marie’s intended knows about a place for a married couple without children to be caretakers of a house on Arader Street. Rent free, a kitchen of your own, and the privilege of keeping chickens——
L ILIOM
Get out of the way! [J ULIE stands aside. L ILIOM exits. F ICSUR follows him. J ULIE remains standing meditatively in the doorway. M OTHER H OLLUNDER comes out of the kitchen. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
I can’t find my kitchen knife anywhere. Have you seen anything of it?
J ULIE
[ Horrified. ] No.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
It was on the kitchen table just a few minutes ago. No one was in there except Liliom.
J ULIE
He didn’t take it.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
No one else was in there.
J ULIE
What would Liliom want with a kitchen knife?
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He’d sell it and spend the money on drink.
J ULIE
It just so happens—see how unjust you are to him—it just so happens that I went through all of Liliom’s pockets just now—I wanted to see if he had any money on him. But he had nothing but a pack of cards.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Returns to the kitchen, grumbling. ] Cards in his pocket—cards! The fine gentlemen have evidently gone off to their club to play a little game. [ She exits. After a pause M ARIE , happy and beaming, appears in the doorway at back, and enters, followed by W OLF .]
M ARIE
Here we are! [ She takes W OLF by the hand and leads him, grinning shyly, to J ULIE , who has turned at her call. ] Hello!
J ULIE
Hello.
M ARIE
Well, we’re here.
J ULIE
Yes.
W OLF
[ Bows awkwardly and extends his hand. ] My name is Wolf Beifeld.
J ULIE
My name is Julie Zeller. [ They shake hands. There is an embarrassed silence. Then, to relieve the situation, W OLF takes J ULIE ’ S hand again and shakes it vigorously. ]
M ARIE
Well—this is Wolf.
W OLF
Yes.
J ULIE
Yes. [ Another awkward silence. ]
M ARIE
Where is Liliom?
W OLF
Yes, where is your husband?
J ULIE
He’s out.
M ARIE
Where?
J ULIE
Just for a walk.
M ARIE
Is he?
J ULIE
Yes.
W OLF
Oh! [ Another silence. ]
M ARIE
Wolf’s got a new place. After the first of the month he won’t have to stand outside any more. He’s going to work in a club after the first of the month.
W OLF
[ Apologetically. ] She don’t know yet how to explain these things just right—hehehe—— Beginning the first I’m to be second steward at the Burger Club—a good job, if one conducts oneself properly.
J ULIE
Yes?
W OLF
The pay—is quite good—but the main thing is the tips. When they play cards there’s always a bit for the steward. The tips, I may say, amount to twenty, even thirty kronen every night.
M ARIE
Yes.
W OLF
We’ve rented two rooms for ourselves to start with—and if things go well——
M ARIE
Then we’ll buy a house in the country.
W OLF
If one only tends to business and keeps honest. Of course, in the country we’ll miss the city life, but if the good Lord sends us children—it’s much healthier for children in the country. [ There is a brief pause. ]
M ARIE
Wolf’s nice looking, isn’t he?
J ULIE
Yes.
M ARIE
And he’s a good boy, Wolf.
J ULIE
Yes.
M ARIE
The only thing is—he’s a Jew.
J ULIE
Oh, well, you can get used to that.
M ARIE
Well, aren’t you going to wish us luck?
J ULIE
Of course I do. [ She embraces M ARIE .]
M ARIE
And aren’t you going to kiss Wolf, too?
J ULIE
Him, too. [ She embraces W OLF , remains quite still a moment, her head resting on his shoulder. ]
W OLF
Why are you crying, my dear Mrs.—— [ He looks questioningly at M ARIE over J ULIE ’ S shoulder. ]
M ARIE
Because she has such a good heart. [ She becomes sentimental, too. ]
W OLF
[ Touched. ] We thank you for your heartfelt sympathy—— [ He cannot restrain his own tears. There is a pause before M OTHER H OLLUNDER and her son enter. Y OUNG H OLLUNDER immediately busies himself with the camera. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
Now if you don’t mind, we’ll do it right away, before it gets too dark. [ She leads M ARIE and W OLF into position before the background-screen. Here they immediately fall into an awkward pose, smiling mechanically. ] Full length?
M ARIE
Please. Both figures full length.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
Bride and groom?
M ARIE
Yes.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER , Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
[ Speak in unison, in loud professionally-expressionless tones. ] The lady looks at the gentleman and the gentleman looks straight into the camera.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
[ Poses first M ARIE , then W OLF .] Now, if you please.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
[ Who has crept under the black cloth, calls in muffled tones. ] That’s good—that’s very good!
M ARIE
[ Stonily rigid, but very happy, trying to speak without altering her expression. ] Julie, dear, do we look all right?
J ULIE
Yes, dear.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
Now, if you please, hold still. I’ll count up to three, and then you must hold perfectly still. [ Grasps the cover of the lens and calls threateningly. ] One—two—three! [ He removes the cover; there is utter silence. But as he speaks the word “one” there is heard, very faintly in the distance, the refrain of the thieves’ song which F ICSUR and L ILIOM have been singing. The refrain continues until the fall of the curtain. As he speaks the word “three” everybody is perfectly rigid save J ULIE , who lets her head sink slowly to the table. The distant refrain dies out. ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — In the fields on the outskirts of the city. At back a railroad embankment crosses the stage obliquely. At Center of the embankment stands a red and white signal flag, and near it a little red signal lamp which is not yet lighted. Here also a wooden stairway leads up to the embankment.
At the foot of the embankment to the right is a pile of used railroad ties. In the background a telegraph pole, beyond it a view of trees, fences and fields; still further back a factory building and a cluster of little dwellings.
It is six o’clock of the same afternoon. Dusk has begun to fall.
L ILIOM and F ICSUR are discovered on the stairway looking after the train which has just passed.
L ILIOM
Can you still hear it snort?
F ICSUR
Listen! [ They watch the vanishing train. ]
L ILIOM
If you put your ear on the tracks you can hear it go all the way to Vienna.
F ICSUR
Huh!
L ILIOM
The one that just puffed past us—it goes all the way to Vienna.
F ICSUR
No further?
L ILIOM
Yes—further, too. [ There is a pause. ]
F ICSUR
It must be near six. [ As L ILIOM ascends the steps. ] Where are you going?
L ILIOM
Don’t be afraid. I’m not giving you the slip.
F ICSUR
Why should you give me the slip? That cashier has sixteen thousand kronen on him. Just be patient till he comes, then you can talk to him, nice and polite.
L ILIOM
I say, “Good evening—excuse me, sir; what time is it?”
F ICSUR
Then he tells you what time it is.
L ILIOM
Suppose he don’t come?
F ICSUR
[ Coming down the steps. ] Nonsense! He’s got to come. He pays off the workmen every Saturday. And this is Saturday, ain’t it? [L ILIOM has ascended to the top of the stairway and is gazing along the tracks. ] What are you looking at up there?
L ILIOM
The tracks go on and on—there’s no end to them.
F ICSUR
What’s that to stare about?
L ILIOM
Nothing—only I always look after the train. When you stand down there at night it snorts past you, and spits down.
F ICSUR
Spits?
L ILIOM
Yes, the engine. It spits down. And then the whole train rattles past and away—and you stand [Pg 112] there—spat on—but it draws your eyes along with it.
F ICSUR
Draws your eyes along?
L ILIOM
Yes—whether you want to or not, you’ve got to look after it—as long as the tiniest bit of it is in sight.
F ICSUR
Swell people sit in it.
L ILIOM
And read newspapers.
F ICSUR
And smoke cigars.
L ILIOM
And inhale the smoke. [ There is a short silence. ]
F ICSUR
Is he coming?
L ILIOM
Not yet. [ Silence again. L ILIOM comes down, speaks low, confidentially. ] Do you hear the telegraph wires?
F ICSUR
I hear them when the wind blows.
L ILIOM
Even when the wind doesn’t blow you can hear them humming, humming—— People talk through them.
F ICSUR
Who?
L ILIOM
Jews.
F ICSUR
No—they telegraph.
L ILIOM
They talk through them and from some other place they get answered. And it all goes through the iron strings—that’s why they hum like that—they hum-m——
F ICSUR
What do they hum?
L ILIOM
They hum! ninety-nine, ninety-nine. Just listen.
F ICSUR
What for?
L ILIOM
That sparrow’s listening, too. He’s cocked one eye and looks at me as if to say: “I’d like to know what they’re talking about.”
F ICSUR
You’re looking at a bird?
L ILIOM
He’s looking at me, too.
F ICSUR
Listen, you’re sick! There’s something the matter with you. Do you know what it is? Money. That bird has no money, either; that’s why he cocks his eye.
L ILIOM
Maybe.
F ICSUR
Whoever has money don’t cock his eye.
L ILIOM
What then does he do?
F ICSUR
He does most anything he wants. But nobody works unless he has money. We’ll soon have money ourselves.
L ILIOM
I say, “Good evening. Excuse me, sir, can you tell me what time it is!”
F ICSUR
He’s not coming yet. Got the cards? [L ILIOM gives him the pack of cards. ] Got any money?
L ILIOM
[ Takes some coins from his trousers pocket and counts. ] Eleven.
F ICSUR
[ Sits astride on the pile of ties and looks off left. ] All right—eleven.
L ILIOM
[ Sitting astride on the ties facing him. ] Put it up.
F ICSUR
[ Puts the money on the ties; rapidly shuffles the cards. ] We’ll play twenty-one. I’ll bank. [ He deals deftly. ]
L ILIOM
[ Looks at his card. ] Good. I’ll bet the bank.
F ICSUR
Must have an ace! [ Deals him a second card. ]
L ILIOM
Another one. [ He gets another card. ] Another. [ Gets still another. ] Over! [ Throws down his cards. F ICSUR gathers in the money. ] Come on!
F ICSUR
Come on what? Got no more money, have you?
L ILIOM
No.
F ICSUR
Then the game’s over—unless you want to——
L ILIOM
What?
F ICSUR
Play on credit.
L ILIOM
You’ll trust me?
F ICSUR
No—but—I’ll deduct it.
L ILIOM
Deduct it from what?
F ICSUR
From your share of the money. If you win you deduct from my share.
L ILIOM
[ Looks over his shoulder to see if the cashier is coming; nervous and ashamed. ] All right. How much is bank?
F ICSUR
That cashier is bringing us sixteen thousand kronen. Eight thousand of that is mine. Well, then, the bank is eight thousand.
L ILIOM
Good.
F ICSUR
Whoever has the most luck will have the most money. [ He deals. ]
L ILIOM
Six hundred kronen. [F ICSUR gives him another card. ] Enough.
F ICSUR
[ Laying out his own cards. ] Twenty-one. [ He shuffles rapidly. ]
L ILIOM
[ Moves excitedly nearer to F ICSUR .] Well, then, double or nothing.
F ICSUR
[ Dealing. ] Double or nothing.
L ILIOM
[ Gets a card. ] Enough.
F ICSUR
[ Laying out his own cards. ] Twenty-one. [ Shuffles rapidly again. ]
L ILIOM
[ In alarm. ] You’re not—cheating?
F ICSUR
Me? Do I look like a cheat? [ Deals the cards again. ]
L ILIOM
[ Glances nervously over his shoulder. ] A thousand.
F ICSUR
[ Nonchalantly. ] Kronen?
L ILIOM
Kronen. [ He gets a card. ] Another one. [ Gets another card. ] Over again! [ Like an inexperienced gambler who is losing heavily, L ILIOM is very nervous. He plays dazedly, wildly, irrationally. From now on it is apparent that his only thought is to win his money back. ]
F ICSUR
That makes twelve hundred you owe.
L ILIOM
Double or nothing. [ He gets a card. He is greatly excited. ] Another one. [ Gets another card. ] Another. [ Throws down three cards. ]
F ICSUR
[ Bends over and adds up the sum on the ground. ] Ten—fourteen—twenty-three—— You owe two thousand, four hundred.
L ILIOM
Now what?
F ICSUR
[ Takes a card out of the deck and gives it to him. ] Here’s the red ace. You can play double or nothing again.
L ILIOM
[ Eagerly. ] Good. [ Gets another card. ] Enough.
F ICSUR
[ Turns up his own cards. ] Nineteen.
L ILIOM
You win again. [ Almost imploring. ] Give me an ace again. Give me the green one. [ Takes a card. ] Double or nothing.
F ICSUR
Not any more.
L ILIOM
Why not?
F ICSUR
Because if you lose you won’t be able to pay. Double would be nine thousand six hundred. And you’ve only got eight thousand altogether.
L ILIOM
[ Greatly excited. ] That—that—I call that—a dirty trick!
F ICSUR
Three thousand, two hundred. That’s all you can put up.
L ILIOM
[ Eagerly. ] All right, then—three thousand, two hundred. [F ICSUR deals him a card. ] Enough.
F ICSUR
I’ve got an ace myself. Now we’ll have to take our time and squeeze ’em. [L ILIOM pushes closer to him, as he takes up his cards and slowly, intently unfolds them. ] Twenty-one. [ He quickly puts the cards in his pocket. There is a pause. ]
L ILIOM
Now—now—I’ll tell you now—you’re a crook, a low-down—— [ Now L INZMAN enters at Right. He is a strong, robust, red-bearded Jew about 40 years of age. At his side he carries a leather bag slung by a strap from his shoulder. F ICSUR coughs warningly, [Pg 121] moves to the right between L INZMAN and the embankment, pauses just behind L INZMAN and follows him. L ILIOM stands bewildered a few paces to the left of the railroad ties. He finds himself facing L INZMAN . Trembling in every limb. ] Good evening. Excuse me, sir, can you tell me the time? [F ICSUR springs silently at L INZMAN , the little knife in his right hand. But L INZMAN catches F ICSUR ’ S right hand with his own left and forces F ICSUR to his knees. Simultaneously L INZMAN thrusts his right hand into his coat pocket and produces a revolver which he points at L ILIOM ’ S breast. L ILIOM is standing two paces away from the revolver. There is a long pause. ]
L INZMAN
[ In a low, even voice. ] It is twenty-five minutes past six. [ Pauses, looks ironically down at F ICSUR .] It’s lucky I grabbed the hand with the knife instead of the other one. [ Pauses again, looks appraisingly from one to the other. ] Two fine birds! [ To F ICSUR .] I should live so—Rothschild has more luck than you. [ To L ILIOM .] I’d advise you to keep nice and quiet. If you make one move, you’ll get two bullets in you. Just look into the barrel. You’ll see some little things in there made of lead.
F ICSUR
Let me go. I didn’t do anything.
L INZMAN
[ Mockingly shakes the hand which still holds the knife. ] And this? What do you call this? Oh, yes, I know. You thought I had an apple in my pocket, and you wanted to peel it. That’s it. Forgive me for my error. I beg your pardon, sir.
L ILIOM
But I—I——
L INZMAN
Yes, my son, I know. It’s so simple. You only asked what time it is. Well, it’s twenty-five minutes after six.
F ICSUR
Let us go, honorable sir. We didn’t do anything to you.
L INZMAN
In the first place, my son, I’m not an honorable sir. In the second place, for the same money, you could have said Your Excellency. But in the third place you’ll find it very hard to beg off by flattering me.
L ILIOM
But I— I really didn’t do anything to you.
L INZMAN
Look behind you, my boy. Don’t be afraid. Look behind you, but don’t run away or I’ll have [Pg 123] to shoot you down. [L ILIOM turns his head slowly around. ] Who’s coming up there?
L ILIOM
[ Looking at L INZMAN .] Policemen.
L INZMAN
[ To F ICSUR .] You hold still, or—— [ To L ILIOM teasingly. ] How many policemen are there?
L ILIOM
[ His eyes cast down. ] Two.
L INZMAN
And what are the policemen sitting on?
L ILIOM
Horses.
L INZMAN
And which can run faster, a horse or a man?
L ILIOM
A horse.
L INZMAN
There, you see. It would be hard to get away now. [ Laughs. ] I never saw such an unlucky pair of highway robbers. I can’t imagine worse luck. Just today I had to put a pistol in my pocket. And [Pg 124] even if I hadn’t—old Linzman is a match for four like you. But even that isn’t all. Did you happen to notice, you oxen, what direction I came from? From the factory, didn’t I? When I went there I had a nice bit of money with me. Sixteen thousand crowns! But now—not a heller. [ Calls off left. ] Hey, come quicker, will you? This fellow is pulling pretty strong. [F ICSUR frees himself with a mighty wrench and darts rapidly off. As L INZMAN aims his pistol at the vanishing F ICSUR , L ILIOM runs up the steps to the embankment. L INZMAN hesitates, perceives that L ILIOM is the better target, points the pistol at him. ] Stop, or I’ll shoot! [ Calls off left to the P OLICEMEN .] Why don’t you come down off your horses? [ His pistol is leveled at L ILIOM , who stands on the embankment, facing the audience. From the left on the embankment a P OLICEMAN appears, revolver in hand. ]
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Stop!
L INZMAN
Well, my boy, do you still want to know what time it is? From ten to twelve years in prison!
L ILIOM
You won’t get me! [L INZMAN laughs derisively. L ILIOM is now three or four paces from the P OLICEMAN and equally distant from L INZMAN . His face [Pg 125] is uplifted to the sky. He bursts into laughter, half defiant, half self-pitying, and takes the kitchen knife from under his coat. ] Julie—— [ The ring of farewell is in the word. He turns sideways, thrusts the knife deep in his breast, sways, falls and rolls down the far side of the embankment. There is a long pause. From the left up on the embankment come the T WO P OLICEMEN .]
L INZMAN
What’s the matter? [ The F IRST P OLICEMAN comes along the embankment as far as the steps, looks down in the opposite side, then climbs down at about the spot where L ILIOM disappeared. L INZMAN and the other P OLICEMAN mount the embankment and look down on him. ] Stabbed himself?
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Yes—and he seems to have made a thorough job of it.
L INZMAN
[ Excitedly to the S ECOND P OLICEMAN .] I’ll go and telephone to the hospital. [ He runs down the steps and exits at left. ]
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Go to Eisler’s grocery store and telephone to the factory from there. They’ve a doctor there, too. [Pg 126] [ Calling down to the other P OLICEMAN .] I’m going to tie up the horses. [ Comes down the steps and exits at left. The stage is empty. There is a pause. The little red signal lamp is lit. ]
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Hey, Stephan!
V OICE OF S ECOND P OLICEMAN
What?
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Shall I pull the knife out of his chest?
V OICE OF S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Better not, or he may bleed to death. [ There is a pause. ]
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Stephan!
V OICE OF S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Yes.
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Lot of mosquitoes around here.
V OICE OF S ECOND P OLICEMAN
Yes.
V OICE OF F IRST P OLICEMAN
Got a cigar?
V OICE OF S ECOND P OLICEMAN
No. [ There is a pause. The F IRST P OLICEMAN appears over the opposite side of the embankment. ]
F IRST P OLICEMAN
A lot of good the new pay-schedule’s done us—made things worse than they used to be—we get more but we have less than we ever had. If the Government could be made to realize that. It’s a thankless job at best. You work hard year after year, you get gray in the service, and slowly you die—yes.
S ECOND P OLICEMAN
That’s right.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Yes. [ In the distance is heard the bell of the signal tower. ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — The photographic “studio” a half hour later that same evening.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER , her son, M ARIE and W OLF stand in a group back right, their heads together. J ULIE stands apart from them, a few paces to the left.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
[ Who has just come in, tells his story excitedly. ] They’re bringing him now. Two workmen from the factory are carrying him on a stretcher.
W OLF
Where is the doctor?
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
A policeman telephoned to headquarters. The police-surgeon ought to be here any minute.
M ARIE
Maybe they’ll pull him through after all.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
He stabbed himself too deep in his chest. But he’s still breathing. He can still talk, too, but very faintly. At first he lay there unconscious, but when they put him on the stretcher he came to.
W OLF
That was from the shaking.
M ARIE
We’d better make room. [ They make room. Two workmen carry in L ILIOM on a stretcher which has four legs and stands about as high as a bed. They put the stretcher at left directly in front of the sofa, so that the head is at right and the foot at left. Then they unobtrusively join the group at the door. Later, they go out. J ULIE is standing at the side of the stretcher, where, without moving, she can see L ILIOM ’ S face. The others crowd emotionally together near the door. The F IRST P OLICEMAN enters. ]
F IRST P OLICEMAN
Are you his wife?
J ULIE
Yes.
F IRST P OLICEMAN
The doctor at the factory who bandaged him up forbade us to take him to the hospital.—Dangerous [Pg 130] to move him that far. What he needs now is rest. Just let him be until the police-surgeon comes. [ To the group near the door. ] He’s not to be disturbed. [ They make way for him. He exits. There is a pause. ]
W OLF
[ Gently urging the others out. ] Please—it’s best if we all get out of here now. We’ll only be in the way.
M ARIE
[ To J ULIE .] Julie, what do you think? [J ULIE looks at her without answering. ] Julie, can I do anything to help? [J ULIE does not answer. ] We’ll be just outside on the bench if you want us. [M OTHER H OLLUNDER and her son have gone out when first requested. Now M ARIE and W OLF exit, too. J ULIE sits on the edge of the stretcher and looks at L ILIOM . He stretches his hand out to her. She clasps it. It is not quite dark yet. Both of them can still be plainly seen. ]
L ILIOM
[ Raises himself with difficulty; speaks lightly at first, but later soberly, defiantly. ] Little—Julie—there’s something—I want to tell you—like when you go to a restaurant—and you’ve finished eating—and it’s time—to pay—then you have to count up everything—everything you owe—well—I beat [Pg 131] you—not because I was mad at you—no—only because I can’t bear to see anyone crying. You always cried—on my account—and, well, you see,—I never learned a trade—what kind of a caretaker would I make? But anyhow—I wasn’t going back to the carousel to fool with the girls. No, I spit on them all—understand?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
And—as for Hollinger—he’s good enough—Mrs. Muskat can get along all right with him. The jokes he tells are mine—and the people laugh when he tells them—but I don’t care.—I didn’t give you anything—no home—not even the food you ate—but you don’t understand.—It’s true I’m not much good—but I couldn’t be a caretaker—and so I thought maybe it would be better over there—in America—do you see?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
I’m not asking—forgiveness—I don’t do that—I don’t. Tell the baby—if you like.
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
Tell the baby—I wasn’t much good—but tell him—if you ever talk about me—tell him—I thought—perhaps—over in America—but that’s no affair of yours. I’m not asking forgiveness. For my part the police can come now.—If it’s a boy—if it’s a girl.—Perhaps I’ll see the Lord God today.—Do you think I’ll see Him?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
I’m not afraid—of the police Up There—if they’ll only let me come up in front of the Lord God Himself—not like down here where an officer stops you at the door. If the carpenter asks you—yes—be his wife—marry him. And the child—tell him he’s his father.—He’ll believe you—won’t he?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
When I beat you—I was right.—You mustn’t always think—you mustn’t always be right.—Liliom can be right once, too.—It’s all the same to me who was right.—It’s so dumb. Nobody’s right—but they all think they are right.—A lot they know!
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
Julie—come—hold my hand tight.
J ULIE
I’m holding it tight—all the time.
L ILIOM
Tighter, still tighter—I’m going—— [ Pauses. ] Julie——
J ULIE
Good-bye. [L ILIOM sinks slowly back and dies. J ULIE frees her hand. T HE D OCTOR enters with the F IRST P OLICEMAN .]
D OCTOR
Good evening. His wife?
J ULIE
Yes, sir. [ Behind the D OCTOR and P OLICEMAN enter M ARIE , W OLF , M OTHER H OLLUNDER , Y OUNG H OLLUNDER and M RS . M USKAT . They remain respectfully at the doorway. The D OCTOR bends over L ILIOM and examines him. ]
D OCTOR
A light, if you please. [J ULIE fetches a burning candle from the dark room. The D OCTOR examines L ILIOM briefly in the candle-light, then turns suddenly away. ] Have you pen and ink?
W OLF
[ Proffering a pen. ] A fountain-pen—American——
D OCTOR
[ Takes a printed form from his pocket; speaks as he writes out the death-certificate at the little table. ] My poor woman, your husband is dead—there’s nothing to be done for him—the good God will help him now—I’ll leave this certificate with you. You will give it to the people from the hospital when they come—I’ll arrange for the body to be removed at once. [ Rises. ] Please give me a towel and soap.
P OLICEMAN
I’ve got them for you out here, sir. [ Points to door at back. ]
D OCTOR
God be with you, my good woman.
J ULIE
Thank you, sir. [ The D OCTOR and P OLICEMAN exit. The others slowly draw nearer. ]
M ARIE
Poor Julie. May he rest in peace, poor man, but as for you—please don’t be angry with me for saying it—but you’re better off this way.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He is better off, the poor fellow, and so are you.
M ARIE
Much better, Julie . . . you are young . . . and one of these days some good man will come along. Am I right?
W OLF
She’s right.
M ARIE
Julie, tell me, am I right?
J ULIE
You are right, dear; you are very good.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
There’s a good man—the carpenter. Oh, I can speak of it now. He comes here every day on some excuse or other—and he never fails to ask for you.
M ARIE
A widower—with two children.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He’s better off, poor fellow—and so are you. He was a bad man.
M ARIE
He wasn’t good-hearted. Was he, Wolf?
W OLF
No, I must say, he really wasn’t. No, Liliom wasn’t a good man. A good man doesn’t strike a woman.
M ARIE
Am I right? Tell me, Julie, am I right?
J ULIE
You are right, dear.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
It’s really a good thing for her it happened.
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
He’s better off—and so is she.
W OLF
Now you have your freedom again. How old are you?
J ULIE
Eighteen.
W OLF
Eighteen. A mere child! Am I right?
J ULIE
You are right, Wolf. You are kind.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
Lucky for you it happened, isn’t it?
J ULIE
Yes.
Y OUNG H OLLUNDER
All you had before was bad luck. If it weren’t for my mother you wouldn’t have had a roof over your head or a bite to eat—and now Autumn’s coming and Winter. You couldn’t have lived in this shack in the Winter time, could you?
M ARIE
Certainly not! You’d have frozen like the birds in the fields. Am I right, Julie?
J ULIE
Yes, Marie.
M ARIE
A year from now you will have forgotten all about him, won’t you?
J ULIE
You are right, Marie.
W OLF
If you need anything, count on us. We’ll go now. But tomorrow morning we’ll be back. Come, Marie. God be with you. [ Offers J ULIE his hand .]
J ULIE
God be with you.
M ARIE
[ Embraces J ULIE , weeping. ] It’s the best thing that could have happened to you, Julie, the best thing.
J ULIE
Don’t cry, Marie. [M ARIE and W OLF exit. ]
M OTHER H OLLUNDER
I’ll make a little black coffee. You haven’t had a thing to eat today. Then you’ll come home with us. [M OTHER H OLLUNDER and her son exit. M RS . M USKAT comes over to J ULIE .]
M RS . M USKAT
Would you mind if I—looked at him?
J ULIE
He used to work for you.
M RS . M USKAT
[ Contemplates the body; turns to J ULIE .] Won’t you make up with me?
J ULIE
I wasn’t angry with you.
M RS . M USKAT
But you were. Let’s make it up.
J ULIE
[ Raising her voice eagerly, almost triumphantly. ] I’ve nothing to make up with you.
M RS . M USKAT
But I have with you. Everyone says hard things against the poor dead boy—except us two. You don’t say he was bad.
J ULIE
[ Raising her voice yet higher, this time on a defiant, wholly triumphant note. ] Yes, I do.
M RS . M USKAT
I understand, my child. But he beat me, too. What does that matter? I’ve forgotten it.
J ULIE
[ From now on answers her coldly, drily, without looking at her. ] That’s your own affair.
M RS . M USKAT
If I can help you in any way——
J ULIE
There’s nothing I need.
M RS . M USKAT
I still owe him two kronen, back pay.
J ULIE
You should have paid him.
M RS . M USKAT
Now that the poor fellow is dead I thought perhaps it would be the same if I paid you.
J ULIE
I’ve nothing to do with it.
M RS . M USKAT
All right. Please don’t think I’m trying to force myself on you. I stayed because we two are the only ones on earth who loved him. That’s why I thought we ought to stick together.
J ULIE
No, thank you.
M RS . M USKAT
Then you couldn’t have loved him as I did.
J ULIE
No.
M RS . M USKAT
I loved him better.
J ULIE
Yes.
M RS . M USKAT
Good-bye.
J ULIE
Good-bye. [M RS . M USKAT exits. J ULIE puts the candle on the table near L ILIOM ’ S head, sits on the edge of the stretcher, looks into the dead man’s face and caresses it tenderly. ] Sleep, Liliom, sleep—it’s no business of hers—I never even told you—but now I’ll tell you—now I’ll tell you—you bad, quick-tempered, rough, unhappy, wicked— dear boy—sleep peacefully, Liliom—they can’t understand how I feel—I can’t even explain to you—not even to you—how I feel—you’d only laugh at me—but you can’t hear me any more. [ Between tender motherliness and reproach, yet with great love in her voice. ] It was wicked of you to beat me—on the breast and on the head and face—but you’re gone now.—You treated me badly—that was wicked of you—but sleep peacefully, Liliom—you bad, bad boy, you—I love you—I never told you before—I was ashamed—but now I’ve told you—I love you, Liliom—sleep—my boy—sleep. [ She rises, gets a Bible, sits down near the candle and reads softly to herself, so that, not the words, but an inarticulate murmur is heard. The C ARPENTER enters at back. ]
C ARPENTER
[ Stands near the door; in the dimness of the room he can scarcely be seen. ] Miss Julie——
J ULIE
[ Without alarm. ] Who is that?
C ARPENTER
[ Very slowly. ] The carpenter.
J ULIE
What does the carpenter want?
C ARPENTER
Can I be of help to you in any way? Shall I stay here with you?
J ULIE
[ Gratefully, but firmly. ] Don’t stay, carpenter.
C ARPENTER
Shall I come back tomorrow?
J ULIE
Not tomorrow, either.
C ARPENTER
Don’t be offended, Miss Julie, but I’d like to know—you see, I’m not a young man any more—I have two children—and if I’m to come back any more—I’d like to know—if there’s any use——
J ULIE
No use, carpenter.
C ARPENTER
[ As he exits. ] God be with you. [J ULIE resumes her reading. F ICSUR enters, slinks furtively sideways to the stretcher, looks at L ILIOM , shakes his head. J ULIE looks up from her reading. F ICSUR takes fright, slinks away from the stretcher, sits down at right, biting his nails. J ULIE rises. F ICSUR rises, too, and looks at her half fearfully. With her piercing glance upon him he slinks to the doorway at back, where he pauses and speaks. ]
F ICSUR
The old woman asked me to tell you that coffee is ready, and you are to come in. [J ULIE goes to the kitchen door. F ICSUR withdraws until she has closed the door behind her. Then he reappears in the doorway, stands on tiptoes, looks at L ILIOM , then exits. Now the body lies alone. After a brief silence music is heard, distant at first, but gradually coming nearer. It is very much like the music of the carousel, but slower, graver, more exalted. The melody, too, is the same, yet the tempo is altered and contrapuntal measures of the thieves’ song are intertwined in it. Two men in black, with heavy sticks, soft black hats and black gloves, appear in the doorway at back and stride slowly into the room. Their faces are beardless, marble white, grave and benign. One stops m front of the stretcher, the [Pg 144] other a pace to the right. From above a dim violet light illuminates their faces. ]
T HE F IRST
[ To L ILIOM .] Rise and come with us.
T HE S ECOND
[ Politely. ] You’re under arrest.
T HE F IRST
[ Somewhat louder, but always in a gentle, low, resonant voice. ] Do you hear? Rise. Don’t you hear?
T HE S ECOND
We are the police.
T HE F IRST
[ Bends down, touches L ILIOM ’ S shoulder. ] Get up and come with us. [L ILIOM slowly sits up. ]
T HE S ECOND
Come along.
T HE F IRST
[ Paternally. ] These people suppose that when they die all their difficulties are solved for them.
T HE S ECOND
[ Raising his voice sternly. ] That simply by thrusting a knife in your heart and making it stop [Pg 145] beating you can leave your wife behind with a child in her womb——
T HE F IRST
It is not as simple as that.
T HE S ECOND
Such things are not settled so easily.
T HE F IRST
Come along. You will have to give an account of yourself. [ As both bow their heads, he continues softly. ] We are God’s police. [ An expression of glad relief lights upon L ILIOM ’ S face. He rises from the stretcher. ] Come.
T HE S ECOND
You mortals don’t get off quite as easy as that.
T HE F IRST
[ Softly. ] Come. [L ILIOM starts to walk ahead of them, then stops and looks at them. ] The end is not as abrupt as that. Your name is still spoken. Your face is still remembered. And what you said, and what you did, and what you failed to do—these are still remembered. Remembered, too, are the manner of your glance, the ring of your voice, the clasp of your hand and how your step sounded—as long as one is left who remembers you, so long is [Pg 146] the matter unended. Before the end there is much to be undone. Until you are quite forgotten, my son, you will not be finished with the earth—even though you are dead.
T HE S ECOND
[ Very gently. ] Come. [ The music begins again. All three exit at back, L ILIOM leading, the others following. The stage is empty and quite dark save for the candle which burns by the stretcher, on which, in the shadows, the covers are so arranged that one cannot quite be sure that a body is not still lying. The music dies out in the distance as if it had followed L ILIOM and the two P OLICEMEN . The candle flickers and goes out. There is a brief interval of silence and total darkness before
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — In the Beyond. A whitewashed courtroom. There is a green-topped table; behind it a bench. Back Center is a door with a bell over it. Next to this door is a window through which can be seen a vista of rose-tinted clouds.
Down right there is a grated iron door. Down left another door.
Two men are on the bench when the curtain rises. One is richly, the other poorly dressed.
From a great distance is heard a fanfare of trumpets playing the refrain, of the thieves’ song in slow, altered tempo.
Passing the window at back appear L ILIOM and the two P OLICEMEN .
The bell rings.
An old G UARD enters at right. He is bald and has a long white beard. He wears the conventional police uniform.
He goes to the door at back, opens it, exchanges silent greetings with the two P OLICEMEN and closes the door again.
L ILIOM looks wonderingly around.
T HE F IRST
[ To the old G UARD .] Announce us. [ The G UARD exits at left. ]
L ILIOM
Is this it?
T HE S ECOND
Yes, my son.
L ILIOM
This is the police court?
T HE S ECOND
Yes, my son. The part for suicide cases.
L ILIOM
And what happens here?
T HE F IRST
Here justice is done. Sit down. [L ILIOM sits next to the two men. The two P OLICEMEN stand silent near the table. ]
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
[ Whispers. ] Suicide, too?
L ILIOM
Yes.
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
[ Points to the P OORLY D RESSED M AN .] So’s he. [ Introducing himself. ] My name is Reich.
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
[ Whispers, too. ] My name is Stephen Kadar. [L ILIOM only looks at them. ]
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
And you? What’s your name?
L ILIOM
None of your business. [ Both move a bit away from him. ]
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
I did it by jumping out of a window.
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
I did it with a pistol—and you?
L ILIOM
With a knife. [ They move a bit further away from him. ]
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
A pistol is cleaner.
L ILIOM
If I had the price of a pistol——
T HE S ECOND
Silence!
[ The P OLICE M AGISTRATE enters. He has a long white beard, is bald, but only in profile can be seen on his head a single tuft of snow-white hair. The G UARD reënters behind him and sits on the bench with the dead men. As the M AGISTRATE enters, all rise, except L ILIOM , who remains surlily seated. When the M AGISTRATE sits down, so do the others. ]
T HE G UARD
Yesterday’s cases, your honor. The numbers are entered in the docket.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Number 16,472.
T HE F IRST
[ Looks in his notebook, beckons the R ICHLY D RESSED M AN .] Stand up, please. [T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN rises. ]
T HE M AGISTRATE
Your name?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
Doctor Reich.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Age?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
Forty-two, married, Jew.
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ With a gesture of dismissal. ] Religion does not interest us here—why did you kill yourself?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
On account of debts.
T HE M AGISTRATE
What good did you do on earth?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
I was a lawyer——
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ Coughs significantly. ] Yes—we’ll discuss that later. For the present I shall only ask you: Would you like to go back to earth once more before sunrise? I advise you that you have the right to go if you choose. Do you understand?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
Yes, sir.
T HE M AGISTRATE
He who takes his life is apt, in his haste and his excitement, to forget something. Is there anything important down there you have left undone? Something to tell someone? Something to undo?
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
My debts——
T HE M AGISTRATE
They do not matter here. Here we are concerned only with the affairs of the soul.
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
Then—if you please—when I left—the house—my youngest son, Oscar—was asleep. I didn’t trust myself to wake him—and bid him good-bye. I would have liked—to kiss him good-bye.
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ To T HE S ECOND .] You will take Dr. Reich back and let him kiss his son Oscar.
T HE S ECOND
Come with me, please.
T HE R ICHLY D RESSED M AN
[ To T HE M AGISTRATE .] I thank you. [ He bows and exits at back with T HE S ECOND .]
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ After making an entry in the docket. ] Number 16,473.
T HE F IRST
[ Looks in his notebook, then beckons L ILIOM .] Stand up.
L ILIOM
You said please to him. [ He rises. ]
T HE M AGISTRATE
Your name?
L ILIOM
Liliom.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Isn’t that your nickname?
L ILIOM
Yes.
T HE M AGISTRATE
What is your right name?
L ILIOM
Andreas.
T HE M AGISTRATE
And your last name?
L ILIOM
Zavocki—after my mother.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Your age?
L ILIOM
Twenty-four.
T HE M AGISTRATE
What good did you do on earth? [L ILIOM is silent. ] Why did you take your life? [L ILIOM does not answer. T HE M AGISTRATE addresses T HE F IRST .] Take that knife away from him. [T HE F IRST does so. ] It will be returned to you, if you go back to earth.
L ILIOM
Do I go back to earth again?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Just answer my questions.
L ILIOM
I wasn’t answering then, I was asking if——
T HE M AGISTRATE
You don’t ask questions here. You only answer. Only answer, Andreas Zavocki! I ask you whether [Pg 155] there is anything on earth you neglected to accomplish? Anything down there you would like to do?
L ILIOM
Yes.
T HE M AGISTRATE
What is it?
L ILIOM
I’d like to break Ficsur’s head for him.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Punishment is our office. Is there nothing else on earth you’d like to do?
L ILIOM
I don’t know—I guess, as long as I’m here, I’ll not go back.
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ To T HE F IRST .] Note that. He waives his right. [L ILIOM starts back to the bench. ] Stay where you are. You are aware that you left your wife without food or shelter?
L ILIOM
Yes.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Don’t you regret it?
L ILIOM
No.
T HE M AGISTRATE
You are aware that your wife is pregnant, and that in six months a child will be born?
L ILIOM
I know.
T HE M AGISTRATE
And that the child, too, will be without food or shelter? Do you regret that?
L ILIOM
As long as I won’t be there, what’s it got to do with me?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Don’t try to deceive us, Andreas Zavocki. We see through you as through a pane of glass.
L ILIOM
If you see so much, what do you want to ask me for? Why don’t you let me rest—in peace?
T HE M AGISTRATE
First you must earn your rest.
L ILIOM
I want—only—to sleep.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Your obstinacy won’t help you. Here patience is endless as time. We can wait.
L ILIOM
Can I ask something—I’d like to know—if Your Honor will tell me—whether the baby will be a boy or a girl.
T HE M AGISTRATE
You shall see that for yourself.
L ILIOM
[ Excitedly. ] I’ll see the baby?
T HE M AGISTRATE
When you do it won’t be a baby any more. But we haven’t reached that question yet.
L ILIOM
I’ll see it?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Again I ask you: Do you not regret that you deserted your wife and child; that you were a bad husband, a bad father?
L ILIOM
A bad husband?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Yes.
L ILIOM
And a bad father?
T HE M AGISTRATE
That, too.
L ILIOM
I couldn’t get work—and I couldn’t bear to see Julie—all the time—all the time——
T HE M AGISTRATE
Weeping! Why are you ashamed to say it? You couldn’t bear to see her weeping. Why are you afraid of that word? And why are you ashamed that you loved her?
L ILIOM
[ Shrugs his shoulders. ] Who’s ashamed? But I couldn’t bear to see her—and that’s why I was bad to her. You see, it wouldn’t do to go back to the carousel—and Ficsur came along with his talk about—that other thing—and all of a sudden it happened, I don’t know how. The police and the Jew with the pistol—and there I stood—and I’d lost the money playing cards—and I didn’t want to be put in prison. [ Demanding justification. ] Maybe I was wrong not to go out and steal when there was nothing to eat in the house? Should I have gone out to steal for Julie?
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ Emphatically. ] Yes.
L ILIOM
[ After an astounded pause. ] The police down there never said that.
T HE M AGISTRATE
You beat that poor, frail girl; you beat her because she loved you. How could you do that?
L ILIOM
We argued with each other—she said this and I said that—and because she was right I couldn’t answer her—and I got mad—and the anger rose up in me—until it reached here [ points to his throat ] and then I beat her.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Are you sorry?
L ILIOM
[ Shakes his head, but cannot utter the word “no”; continues softly. ] When I touched her slender throat—then—if you like—you might say—— [ Falters, looks embarrassed at T HE M AGISTRATE .]
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ Confidently expectant. ] Are you sorry?
L ILIOM
[ With a stare. ] I’m not sorry for anything.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Liliom, Liliom, it will be difficult to help you.
L ILIOM
I’m not asking any help.
T HE M AGISTRATE
You were offered employment as a caretaker on Arader Street. [ To T HE F IRST .] Where is that entered?
T HE F IRST
In the small docket. [ Hands him the open book. T HE M AGISTRATE looks in it. ]
T HE M AGISTRATE
Rooms, kitchen, quarterly wages, the privilege of keeping poultry. Why didn’t you accept it?
L ILIOM
I’m not a caretaker. I’m no good at caretaking. To be a caretaker—you have to be a caretaker——
T HE M AGISTRATE
If I said to you now: Liliom, go back on your stretcher. Tomorrow morning you will arise alive and well again. Would you be a caretaker then?
L ILIOM
No.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Why not?
L ILIOM
Because—because that’s just why I died.
T HE M AGISTRATE
That is not true, my son. You died because you loved little Julie and the child she is bearing under her heart.
L ILIOM
No.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Look me in the eye.
L ILIOM
[ Looks him in the eye. ] No.
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ Stroking his beard. ] Liliom, Liliom, if it were not for our Heavenly patience—— Go back to your seat. Number 16,474.
T HE F IRST
[ Looks in his note book. ] Stephan Kadar. [T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN rises. ]
T HE M AGISTRATE
You came out today?
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
Today.
T HE M AGISTRATE
[ Indicating the crimson sea of clouds. ] How long were you in there?
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
Thirteen years.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Officer, you went to earth with him?
T HE F IRST
Yes, sir.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Stephan Kadar, after thirteen years of purification by fire you returned to earth to give proof that your soul had been burned clean. What good deed did you perform?
T HE P OORLY D RESSED M AN
When I came to the village and looked in the window of our cottage I saw my poor little orphans sleeping peacefully. But it was raining and the rain beat into the room through a hole in the roof. [Pg 163] So I went and fixed the roof so it wouldn’t rain in any more. My hammering woke them up and they were afraid. But their mother came in to them and comforted them. She said to them: “Don’t cry! It’s your poor, dear father hammering up there. He’s come back from the other world to fix the roof for us.”
T HE M AGISTRATE
Officer?
T HE F IRST
That’s what happened.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Stephan Kadar, you have done a good deed. What you did will be written in books to gladden the hearts of children who read them. [ Indicates the door at left. ] The door is open to you. The eternal light awaits you. [T HE F IRST escorts the P OORLY D RESSED M AN out at left with great deference. ] Liliom! [L ILIOM rises. ] You have heard?
L ILIOM
Yes.
T HE M AGISTRATE
When this man first appeared before us he was as stubborn as you. But now he has purified himself and withstood the test. He has done a good deed.
L ILIOM
What’s he done, anyhow? Any roofer can fix a roof. It’s much harder to be a barker in an amusement park.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Liliom, you shall remain for sixteen years in the crimson fire until your child is full grown. By that time your pride and your stubbornness will have been burnt out of you. And when your daughter——
L ILIOM
My daughter!
T HE M AGISTRATE
When your daughter has reached the age of sixteen—— [L ILIOM bows his head, covers his eyes with his hands, and to keep from weeping laughs defiantly, sadly. ]
T HE M AGISTRATE
When your daughter has reached the age of sixteen you will be sent for one day back to earth.
L ILIOM
Me?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Yes—just as you may have read in the legends of how the dead reappear on earth for a time.
L ILIOM
I never believed them.
T HE M AGISTRATE
Now you see they are true. You will go back to earth one day to show how far the purification of your soul has progressed.
L ILIOM
Then I must show what I can do—like when you apply for a job—as a coachman?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Yes—it is a test.
L ILIOM
And will I be told what I have to do?
T HE M AGISTRATE
No.
L ILIOM
How will I know, then?
T HE M AGISTRATE
You must decide that for yourself. That’s what you burn sixteen years for. And if you do something good, something splendid for your child, then——
L ILIOM
[ Laughs sadly. ] Then? [ All stand up and bow their heads reverently. There is a pause. ] Then?
T HE M AGISTRATE
Now I’ll bid you farewell, Liliom. Sixteen years and a day shall pass before I see you again. When you have returned from earth you will come up before me again. Take heed and think well of some good deed to do for your child. On that will depend which door shall be opened to you up here. Now go, Liliom. [ He exits at left. T HE G UARD stands at attention. There is a pause. ]
T HE F IRST
[ Approaches L ILIOM .] Come along, my son. [ He goes to the door at right; pulls open the bolt and waits. ]
L ILIOM
[ To the old G UARD , softly. ] Say, officer.
T HE G UARD
What do you want?
L ILIOM
Please—can I get—have you got——?
T HE G UARD
What?
L ILIOM
[ Whispers. ] A cigarette? [ The old G UARD stares at him, goes a few paces to the left, shakes his head disapprovingly. Then his expression softens. He takes a cigarette from his pocket and, crossing to L ILIOM —who has gone over to the door at right—gives him the cigarette. T HE F IRST throws open the door. An intense rose-colored light streams in. The glow of it is so strong that it blinds L ILIOM and he takes a step backward and bows his head and covers his eyes with his hand before he steps forward into the light. ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
S CENE — Sixteen years later. A small, tumble-down house on a bare, unenclosed plot of ground. Before the house is a tiny garden enclosed by a hip-high hedge.
At back a wooden fence crosses the stage; in the center of it is a door large enough to admit a wagon. Beyond the fence is a view of a suburban street which blends into a broad vista of tilled fields.
It is a bright Sunday in Spring.
In the garden a table for two is laid.
J ULIE , her daughter L OUISE , W OLF and M ARIE are discovered in the garden. W OLF is prosperously dressed, M ARIE somewhat elaborately, with a huge hat.
J ULIE
You could stay for lunch.
M ARIE
Impossible, dear. Since he became the proprietor of the Café Sorrento, Wolf simply has to be there all the time.
J ULIE
But you needn’t stay there all day, too.
M ARIE
Oh, yes. I sit near the cashier’s cage, read the papers, keep an eye on the waiters and drink in the bustle and excitement of the great city.
J ULIE
And what about the children?
M ARIE
You know what modern families are like. Parents scarcely ever see their children these days. The four girls are with their governess, the three boys with their tutor.
L OUISE
Auntie, dear, do stay and eat with us.
M ARIE
[ Importantly. ] Impossible today, dear child, impossible. Perhaps some other time. Come, Mr. Beifeld.
J ULIE
Since when do you call your husband mister?
W OLF
I’d rather she did, dear lady. When we used to be very familiar we quarreled all the time. Now [Pg 170] we are formal with each other and get along like society folk. I kiss your hand, dear lady.
J ULIE
Good-bye, Wolf.
M ARIE
Adieu, my dear. [ They embrace. ] Adieu, my dear child.
L OUISE
Good-bye, Aunt Marie. Good-bye, Uncle Wolf. [W OLF and M ARIE exit. ]
J ULIE
You can get the soup now, Louise dear. [L OUISE goes into the house and reënters with the soup. They sit at the table. ]
L OUISE
Mother, is it true we’re not going to work at the jute factory any more?
J ULIE
Yes, dear.
L OUISE
Where then?
J ULIE
Uncle Wolf has gotten us a place in a big establishment where they make all kinds of fittings for [Pg 171] cafés. We’re to make big curtains, you know, the kind they hang in the windows, with lettering on them.
L OUISE
It’ll be nicer there than at the jute factory.
J ULIE
Yes, dear. The work isn’t as dirty and pays better, too. A poor widow like your mother is lucky to get it. [ They eat. L ILIOM and the two H EAVENLY P OLICEMEN appear in the big doorway at back. The P OLICEMEN pass slowly by. L ILIOM stands there alone a moment, then comes slowly down and pauses at the opening of the hedge. He is dressed as he was on the day of his death. He is very pale, but otherwise unaltered. J ULIE , at the table, has her back to him. L OUISE sits facing the audience.
L ILIOM
Good day.
L OUISE
Good day.
J ULIE
Another beggar! What is it you want, my poor man?
L ILIOM
Nothing.
J ULIE
We have no money to give, but if you care for a plate of soup—— [L OUISE goes into the house. ] Have you come far today?
L ILIOM
Yes—very far.
J ULIE
Are you tired?
L ILIOM
Very tired.
J ULIE
Over there at the gate is a stone. Sit down and rest. My daughter is bringing you the soup. [L OUISE comes out of the house. ]
L ILIOM
Is that your daughter?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
[ To L OUISE .] You are the daughter?
L OUISE
Yes, sir.
L ILIOM
A fine, healthy girl. [ Takes the soup plate from her with one hand, while with the other he touches her arm. L OUISE draws back quickly. ]
L OUISE
[ Crosses to J ULIE .] Mother!
J ULIE
What, my child?
L OUISE
The man tried to take me by the arm.
J ULIE
Nonsense! You only imagined it, dear. The poor, hungry man has other things to think about than fooling with young girls. Sit down and eat your soup. [ They eat. ]
L ILIOM
[ Eats, too, but keeps looking at them. ] You work at the factory, eh?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
Your daughter, too?
L OUISE
Yes.
L ILIOM
And your husband?
J ULIE
[ After a pause. ] I have no husband. I’m a widow.
L ILIOM
A widow?
J ULIE
Yes.
L ILIOM
Your husband—I suppose he’s been dead a long time. [J ULIE does not answer. ] I say—has your husband been dead a long time?
J ULIE
A long time.
L ILIOM
What did he die of? [J ULIE is silent. ]
L OUISE
No one knows. He went to America to work and he died there—in the hospital. Poor father, I never knew him.
L ILIOM
He went to America?
L OUISE
Yes, before I was born.
L ILIOM
To America?
J ULIE
Why do you ask so many questions? Did you know him, perhaps?
L ILIOM
[ Puts the plate down. ] Heaven knows! I’ve known so many people. Maybe I knew him, too.
J ULIE
Well, if you knew him, leave him and us in peace with your questions. He went to America and died there. That’s all there is to tell.
L ILIOM
All right. All right. Don’t be angry with me. I didn’t mean any harm. [ There is a pause. ]
L OUISE
My father was a very handsome man.
J ULIE
Don’t talk so much.
L OUISE
Did I say anything——?
L ILIOM
Surely the little orphan can say that about her father.
L OUISE
My father could juggle so beautifully with three ivory balls that people used to advise him to go on the stage.
J ULIE
Who told you that?
L OUISE
Uncle Wolf.
L ILIOM
Who is that?
L OUISE
Mr. Wolf Beifeld, who owns the Café Sorrento.
L ILIOM
The one who used to be a porter?
J ULIE
[ Astonished. ] Do you know him, too? It seems that you know all Budapest.
L ILIOM
Wolf Beifeld is a long way from being all Budapest. But I do know a lot of people. Why shouldn’t I know Wolf Beifeld?
L OUISE
He was a friend of my father.
J ULIE
He was not his friend. No one was.
L ILIOM
You speak of your husband so sternly.
J ULIE
What’s that to you? Doesn’t it suit you? I can speak of my husband any way I like. It’s nobody’s business but mine.
L ILIOM
Certainly, certainly—it’s your own business. [ Takes up his soup plate again. All three eat. ]
L OUISE
[ To J ULIE .] Perhaps he knew father, too.
J ULIE
Ask him, if you like.
L OUISE
[ Crosses to L ILIOM . He stands up. ] Did you know my father? [L ILIOM nods. L OUISE addresses her mother. ] Yes, he knew him.
J ULIE
[ Rises. ] You knew Andreas Zavocky?
L ILIOM
Liliom? Yes.
L OUISE
Was he really a very handsome man?
L ILIOM
I wouldn’t exactly say handsome.
L OUISE
[ Confidently. ] But he was an awfully good man, wasn’t he?
L ILIOM
He wasn’t so good, either. As far as I know he was what they called a clown, a barker in a carousel.
L OUISE
[ Pleased. ] Did he tell funny jokes?
L ILIOM
Lots of ’em. And he sang funny songs, too.
L OUISE
In the carousel?
L ILIOM
Yes—but he was something of a bully, too. He’d fight anyone. He even hit your dear little mother.
J ULIE
That’s a lie.
L ILIOM
It’s true.
J ULIE
Aren’t you ashamed to tell the child such awful things about her father? Get out of here, you shameless liar. Eats our soup and our bread and has the impudence to slander our dead!
L ILIOM
I didn’t mean—I——
J ULIE
What right have you to tell lies to the child? Take that plate, Louise, and let him be on his way. If he wasn’t such a hungry-looking beggar, I’d put him out myself. [L OUISE takes the plate out of his hand. ]
L ILIOM
So he didn’t hit you?
J ULIE
No, never. He was always good to me.
L OUISE
[ Whispers. ] Did he tell funny stories, too?
L ILIOM
Yes, and such funny ones.
J ULIE
Don’t speak to him any more. In God’s name, go.
L OUISE
In God’s name. [J ULIE resumes her seat at the table and eats. ]
L ILIOM
If you please, Miss—I have a pack of cards in my pocket. And if you like, I’ll show you some tricks that’ll make you split your sides laughing. [L OUISE holds L ILIOM ’ S plate in her left hand. With her right she reaches out and holds the garden gate shut. ] Let me in, just a little way, Miss, and I’ll do the tricks for you.
L OUISE
Go, in God’s name, and let us be. Why are you making those ugly faces?
L ILIOM
Don’t chase me away, Miss; let me come in for just a minute—just for a minute—just long enough to let me show you something pretty, something wonderful. [ Opens the gate. ] Miss, I’ve something to give you. [ Takes from his pocket a big red handkerchief in which is wrapped a glittering star from Heaven. He looks furtively about him to make sure that the P OLICE are not watching. ]
L OUISE
What’s that?
L ILIOM
Pst! A star! [ With a gesture he indicates that he has stolen it out of the sky. ]
J ULIE
[ Sternly. ] Don’t take anything from him. He’s probably stolen it somewhere. [ To L ILIOM .] In God’s name, be off with you.
L OUISE
Yes, be off with you. Be off. [ She slams the gate. ]
L ILIOM
Miss—please, Miss—I’ve got to do something good—or—do something good—a good deed——
L OUISE
[ Pointing with her right hand. ] That’s the way out.
L ILIOM
Miss——
L OUISE
Get out!
L ILIOM
Miss! [ Looks up at her suddenly and slaps her extended hand, so that the slap resounds loudly. ]
L OUISE
Mother! [ Looks dazedly at L ILIOM , who bows his head dismayed, forlorn. J ULIE rises and looks at L ILIOM in astonishment. There is a long pause. ]
J ULIE
[ Comes over to them slowly. ] What’s the matter here?
L OUISE
[ Bewildered, does not take her eyes off L ILIOM .] Mother—the man—he hit me—on the hand—hard—I heard the sound of it—but it didn’t hurt—mother—it didn’t hurt—it was like a caress—as if he had just touched my hand tenderly. [ She hides behind J ULIE . L ILIOM sulkily raises his head and looks at J ULIE .]
J ULIE
[ Softly. ] Go, my child. Go into the house. Go.
L OUISE
[ Going. ] But mother—I’m afraid—it sounded so loud—— [ Weepingly. ] And it didn’t hurt at all—just as if he’d—kissed my hand instead—mother! [ She hides her face. ]
J ULIE
Go in, my child, go in. [L OUISE goes slowly into the house. J ULIE watches her until she has disappeared, then turns slowly to L ILIOM .]
J ULIE
You struck my child.
L ILIOM
Yes—I struck her.
J ULIE
Is that what you came for, to strike my child?
L ILIOM
No—I didn’t come for that—but I did strike her—and now I’m going back.
J ULIE
In the name of the Lord Jesus, who are you?
L ILIOM
[ Simply. ] A poor, tired beggar who came a long way and who was hungry. And I took your soup and bread and I struck your child. Are you angry with me?
J ULIE
[ Her hand on her heart; fearfully, wonderingly. ] Jesus protect me—I don’t understand it—I’m not angry—not angry at all—— [L ILIOM goes to the doorway and leans against the doorpost, his back to the audience. J ULIE goes to the table and sits. ]
J ULIE
Louise! [L OUISE comes out of the house. ] Sit down, dear, we’ll finish eating.
L OUISE
Has he gone?
J ULIE
Yes. [ They are both seated at the table. L OUISE , her head in her hands, is staring into space. ] Why don’t you eat, dear?
L OUISE
What has happened, mother?
J ULIE
Nothing, my child. [ The H EAVENLY P OLICEMEN appear outside. L ILIOM walks slowly off at left. The F IRST P OLICEMAN makes a deploring gesture. Both shake their heads deploringly and follow L ILIOM slowly off at left. ]
L OUISE
Mother, dear, why won’t you tell me?
J ULIE
What is there to tell you, child? Nothing has happened. We were peacefully eating, and a beggar [Pg 185] came who talked of bygone days, and then I thought of your father.
L OUISE
My father?
J ULIE
Your father—Liliom. [ There is a pause. ]
L OUISE
Mother—tell me—has it ever happened to you—has anyone ever hit you—without hurting you in the least?
J ULIE
Yes, my child. It has happened to me, too. [ There is a pause. ]
L OUISE
Is it possible for someone to hit you—hard like that—real loud and hard—and not hurt you at all?
J ULIE
It is possible, dear—that someone may beat you and beat you and beat you,—and not hurt you at all.—— [ There is a pause. Nearby an organ-grinder has stopped. The music of his organ begins. ]
T HE C URTAIN F ALLS
This transcription is based on images scanned from a copy made available by Cornell University and posted by the Internet Archive at:
archive.org/details/cu31924026943195
These images were supplemented by images scanned from a copy made available by Harvard University and posted by the Internet Archive at:
archive.org/details/liliomalegendin00glazgoog
The following changes were noted:
Alternate spellings such as “irridescence,” “moustache,” “improvization,” and “reënters” have been retained as has the inconsistent spelling of Liliom’s last name (“Zavoczki,” “Zavocki,” and “Zavocky”).