



Produced by Marc D'Hooghe at http://www.freeliterature.org
(Images generously made available by the Internet Archive.)





SUCH IS LIFE

A Play in Five Acts

By

FRANK WEDEKIND

Author of

"The Awakening of Spring," etc.

English Version by

FRANCIS J. ZIEGLER

PHILADELPHIA

BROWN BROTHERS

MCMXII




CHARACTERS


  Nicola, King of Umbria.
  Princess Alma, his daughter.
  Pietro Folchi, Master Butcher. }
  Filipo Folchi, his soil.       }
  Andrea Valori                  } Citizens of Perugia.
  Benedetto Nardi                }
  Pandolfo, Master Tailor.       }
  A Soldier.
  A Farmer.
  A Vagabond.
  Michele                        }
  Battista                       } Journeymen Tailors.
  Noe                            }
  The Presiding Judge.
  The King's Attorney General.
  The Advocate.
  The Clerk of the Court,
  The Jailer.
  A Circus Rider.
  An Actor.
  A Procuress.
  First Theatre Manager.
  Second Theatre Manager.
  A Page.
  First Servant.
  Second Servant.
  Artisans, judges, townspeople, strollers, theatre audience,
  theatre servants, soldiers and halberdiers.




ACT I


SUCH IS LIFE

Scene One--The Throne Room.

FIRST SERVANT.

(_Leaning out of the window._) They are coming! It will overtake us
like the day of judgment!

SECOND SERVANT.

(Rushing in through the opposite door.) Do you know that the King is
taken?

FIRST SERVANT.

Our King a captive?

SECOND SERVANT.

Since early yesterday! The dogs have thrown him into prison!

FIRST SERVANT.

Then we had better scamper away, or they will treat us as if we were
the beds upon which he has debauched their children!

(_The servants rush out. The room becomes filled with armed workmen of
various trades, heated and blood-splashed from combat._)

PIETRO FOLCHI.

(_Steps from their midst_.) Fellow-citizens!--The byways of Perugia are
strewn with the corpses of our children and our brothers. Many of you
have a pious wish to give your beloved dead a fitting resting
place.--Fellow-citizens! First we must fulfill a higher duty. Let us do
our part as quickly as possible, so that the dead shall have perished,
not solely for their bravery, but for the lasting welfare of their
native-land! Let us seize the moment! Let us give our state a
constitution which, in future, will protect her children from the
assassin's weapons and insure her citizens the just reward of their
labors!

THE CITIZENS.

Long live Pietro Folchi!

ANDREA VALORI.

Fellow-citizens! Unless we decide at once upon our future form of
government, we shall only be holding this dearly captured place for our
enemies until we lose it again. We are holding the former King in
custody in prison; the patricians, who supported themselves in idleness
by the sweat of our brows, are in flight toward neighboring states.
Now, I ask you, fellow-citizens, shall we proclaim our state the
Umbrian Republic, as has been done in Florence, in Parma, and in Siena?

THE CITIZENS.

Long live Freedom! Long live Perugia! Long live the Umbrian Republic!

PIETRO FOLCHI.

Let us proceed without delay to elect a podesta! Here are tables and
styles in plenty. Let each one write the name of the man whom he
considers best fitted to guide the destiny of the state and to defend
the power we have gained from our enemies.

THE CITIZENS.

Long live our podesta, Pietro Folchi! Long live the Republic of Perugia!

ANDREA VALORI.

Fellow-citizens! Let there be no precipitate haste at this hour! It is
necessary to strengthen so the power we have won that they cannot
prevail against us as long as we live. Would we succeed if we made
Umbria a republic? Under the shelter of republican liberty, the sons of
the banished nobles would use the vanity of our daughters to bind us
again in chains while we slept unsuspectingly at night! Look at
Florence! Look at Siena! Is not liberty in those states only the cloak
of the most dissolute despotism, which is turning their citizens to
beggars? Perugia grew in power and prosperity under her kings, until
the sceptre passed into the hands of a fool and a wastrel. Let us raise
the worthiest of us up to his throne. Then we who stand here exhausted
from the conflict, will become the future aristocracy and the lords of
the land; only then can we enjoy in lasting peace our hard won
prerogatives.

THE CITIZENS.

Long live the king! Long live Pietro Folchi!

A FEW VOICES.

Long live Freedom!

THE CITIZENS.

(Louder.) Long live our king, Pietro Folchi! Long live King Pietro!

A FEW CITIZENS.

(_Leaving the room angrily._) We did not shed our blood for this. Down
with slavery! Long live Freedom!

THE CITIZENS.

Hurrah for King Pietro!

PIETRO FOLCHI.

(_Mounting the throne._) Called to it by your choice, I mount this
throne and name myself King of Umbria! The dissatisfied who have
separated from our midst with the cry of "freedom" are no less our
enemies than the idle nobles who have turned their backs to our walls.
I shall keep a watchful eye on them, as they fought on our side only in
the hope of plundering in the ruins of our beloved city. Where is my
son Filipo?

FILIPO FOLCHI.

(_Stepping from out the press._) What is your will, my father?

KING PIETRO.

From the wounds above your eyes, I see that you did not shun death
yesterday or today! I name you commander of our war forces. Post our
loyal soldiers at the ten gates of the city, and order the drum to beat
in the market place for recruits. Perugia must be armed for an
expedition to its frontiers in the shortest possible time. You will be
answerable to me for the life of every citizen and responsible for the
inviolate safety of all property. Now bring the former king of Umbria
forth from his prison. It is proper that none save I announce to him
his sentence.

FILIPO.

Your commands shall be observed punctually. Long live King Pietro!
(_Exit._)

KING PIETRO.

Where is my son-in-law, Andrea Valori?

ANDREA VALORI.

(_Stepping forward._) Here, my king, at your command!

KING PIETRO.

I name you treasurer of the Kingdom of Umbria. You and my cousin,
Giullio Diaceto, together with our celebrated jurist, Bernardo
Ruccellai, whose persuasive words abroad have more than once preserved
our city from bloodshed; you three shall be my advisors in the
discharge of affairs of state. (_After the three summoned have come
forward._) Seat yourselves beside me. (_They do so._) I can only
fulfill the high duty of ruling others if the most able men in the
state will enlist their lives in my service. And now, let the others go
to bury the victims of this two days' conflict. To show that they did
not die in vain for the welfare of their brothers and children, let
this be a day of mourning and earnest vigilance.

(_All leave the room save King Pietro, the Councillors and several
guards. Then the captive King is led in by Filipo Folchi and several
armed men._)

THE KING.

Who is bold enough to dare bring us here at the bidding of these
disloyal knaves?!

KING PIETRO.

According to the provision of our laws, the royal power in Umbria fell
to you as eldest son of King Giovanni. You have used your power to
degrade the name of a king with roisterers and courtesans. You chose
banquets, masquerades and hunting parties, by which you have dissipated
the treasures of the state and made the country poor and defenseless,
in preference to every princely duty. You have robbed us of our
daughters, and your deeds have been the most corrupting example to our
sons. You have lived as little for the state's welfare as for your own.
You accomplished only the downfall of your own and our native land.

THE KING.

To whom is the butcher speaking?

FILIPO FOLCHI.

Silence!

THE KING.

Give me back my sword!

ANDREA VALORI.

Put him in chains! He is raving!

THE KING.

Let the butcher speak further.

KING PIETRO.

Your life is forfeited and lies in my hands. But I will suspend
sentence of death if in legal document you will relinquish in my favor,
and in favor of my heirs, your claim and that of your kin to the
throne, and acknowledge me as your lord, your rightful successor and as
the ruler of Umbria.

THE KING.

(_Laughs boisterously._) Ha, ha, ha! Ask of a carp lying in the pan to
cease to be a fish! That this worm has our life in his power proves
indeed that princes are not gods, because, like other men, they are
mortal. The lightning, too, can kill; but he who is born a king does
not die like an ordinary mortal! Let one of these artisans lay hands
upon us, if his blood does not first chill in his veins. Then he shall
see how a king dies!

KING PIETRO.

You are a greater enemy to yourself than your deadliest foes can
possibly be. Although you will not abdicate, we will be mild, in
thankful remembrance of the blessed rule of King Giovanni, whose own
son you are, and banish you now and forever from the confines of the
Umbrian States, under penalty of death.

THE KING.

Banish! Ha, ha, ha! Who in the world will banish the King! Shall fear
of death keep him from the land of which Heaven appointed him the
ruler? Only an artisan could hold life so dear and a crown so
cheap!----Ha, ha, ha! These pitiable fools seem to imagine that when a
crown is placed upon a butcher he becomes a king! See how the
paunch-belly grows pale and shivers up there, like a cheese flung
against the wall! Ha, ha, ha! How they stare at us, the stupid
blockheads, with their moist dogs' eyes, as if the sun had fallen at
their feet!

PRINCESS ALMA.

(_Rushes in, breaking through the guards at the door. She is fifteen
years old, is clad in rich but torn garments and her hair is
disheveled._) Let me pass! Let me go to my father! Where is my father?
(_Sinking down before the King and embracing his knees._) Father! Have
I you again, my dearly beloved father?

THE KING.

(_Raising her._) So I hold you unharmed in my arms once more, my
dearest treasure! Why must you come to me with your heartrending grief
just at this moment when I had almost stamped these bloodthirsty hounds
beneath my feet again!

ALMA.

Then let me die with you! To share death with you would be the greatest
happiness, after what I have lived through in the streets of Perugia
these last two days! They would not let me come to you in prison, but
now you are mine again! Remember, my father, I have no one else in the
world but you!

THE KING.

My child, my dear child, why do you compel me to confess before my
murderers how weak I am! Go! I have brought my fate upon myself, let me
bear it alone. These men will confirm it that you may expect more
compassion and better fortune from my bitterest enemies than if you
cling now to your father, broken by fate.

ALMA.

(_With greatest intensity._) No, do not say that! I beseech you do not
speak so again! (_Caressingly._) Only remember that it is not yet
decided that they murder us. And if we had rather die together than be
parted who in the world can harm us then!

KING PIETRO.

(_Who during this scene has quietly come to an agreement with his
councillors, turning to the King._) The city of Perugia will give your
daughter the most careful education until her majority; and then bestow
upon her a princely dower; if she will promise to give her hand in
marriage to my son, Filipo Folchi, who will be my successor upon this
throne.

THE KING.

You have heard, my child? The throne of your father is open to you!

ALMA.

O my God, how can you so scoff at your poor child!

KING PIETRO.

(_To the King._) As for you, armed men under the command of my son
shall conduct you, within this hour, to the confines of this country.
Have a care that you do not take so much as a step within our land
hereafter, or your head shall fall by the hand of the executioner in
the market place of Perugia!

(_Filipo Folchi has the King and the Princess, clinging close to her
father, led off by men-at-arms. He is about to follow them, when his
arm is seized by Benedetto Nardi, who rushes in breathless with rage._)

BENEDETTO NARDI.

Have I caught you, scoundrel! (_To King Pietro._) This son of yours,
Pietro Folchi, in company with his drunken comrades, chased my helpless
child through the streets of the city yesterday evening, and was about
to lay hands on her when two of my journeymen, attracted by her cries,
put the scoundrels to flight with their clubs. The wretch still carries
the bloody mark above his eyes!

KING PIETRO.

(_In anger._) Defend yourself, my son!

FILIPO FOLCHI.

He speaks the truth.

KING PIETRO.

Back to the shop with you! Must I see my rule disgraced on its first
day by my own son in most impious fashion! The law shall work its
greatest hardship upon you! Afterward you shall stay in the butcher
shop until the citizens of Perugia kneel before me and beg me to have
pity on you! Put him in chains!

(_The mercenaries who led out the King return with Alma. Their leader
throws himself on his knees before the throne._)

THE MERCENARY.

O Sire, do not punish your servants for this frightful misfortune! As
we were leading the King just here before the portal across the bridge
of San Margherita, a company of our comrades marched past and pressed
us against the coping. The prisoner seized that opportunity to leap
into the flood swollen by the rain. We needed all our strength to
prevent this maiden from doing likewise, and when I was about to leap
after the prisoner, the raging waves had long engulfed him.

KING PIETRO.

His life is not the most regrettable sacrifice of these bloody days!
Hundreds of better men have fallen for him. (_To the Councillors._) Let
the child be taken to the Urseline nuns and kept under most careful
guard. (_Rising._) The sitting of the counsel is closed.

ALL PRESENT.

Long live King Pietro!




SECOND SCENE


_A highway along the edge of a forest._

(_The King and Princess Alma, both clad as beggars._)


THE KING.

How long have I been dragging you from place to place while you begged
for me?

ALMA.

Rest yourself, Father; you will be in better spirits afterward.

THE KING.

(_Sits down by the wayside._) Why did not the raging waves swallow me
that evening! Then everything would have been over long ago!

ALMA.

Did you leap over the side of the bridge to put an end to your life? I
thought what strength resided in your arms and that the rushing waters
would help you to liberty. Without this faith how should I have had the
courage to escape from the convent and from the city?

THE KING.

Below us here lies the rich hunting grounds where I have often ridden
hawking with my court. You were too young to accompany us.

ALMA.

Why will you not leave this little land of Umbria, my father! The world
is so large! In Siena, in Modena, your friends dwell. They would
welcome you with joy, and at last your dear head would be safe.

THE KING.

You offer me much, my child! Still, I beg of you not to keep repeating
this question. Just in this lies my fate: If I were able to leave this
land, I should not have lost my crown. But my soul is ruled by desires
which I cannot relinquish, even to save my life. As king, I believed
myself safe enough from the world to live my dreams without danger. I
forgot that the king, the peasant and every other man, must live only
to preserve his station and to defend his estate, unless he would lose
both.

ALMA.

Now you are scoffing at yourself, my father!

THE KING.

That is the way of the world!----You think I am scoffing at
myself?----That, at least, might be something for which men would
contribute to our support. As I offer myself to them now I am of no
use. Either I offend them by my arrogance and pride, which are in
ridiculous contrast to my beggar's rags, or my courteous demeanor makes
them mistrustful, as none of them succeeds by simple modesty. How my
spirit has debased itself during these six months, in order to fit
itself to their ways and methods! But everything I learned as
hereditary prince of Umbria is valueless in their world, and everything
which is of worth in their world I did not learn as a prince. But if I
succeed in jesting at my past, my child, who knows but what we may find
again a place at a richly decked table! When the pork butcher is raised
to the throne there remains no calling for the king save that of court
fool.

ALMA.

Do not enrage yourself so in your fatigue, my father. See, you must
take a little nap! I will look for fresh water to quench your thirst
and cool your fevered brow.

THE KING.

(_Laying down his head._) Thank you, my child.

ALMA.

(_Kissing him._) My dear father! (_Exit._)

THE KING.

(_Rises._) How I have grown to love this beautiful land since I have
slunk about it at the risk of my life! ----Even the worst disaster
always brings good with it. Had I not cared so little for my brave
people of Perugia and Umbria, had I not shown myself to them only at
carnivals and in fancy dress, God knows, but I might have been
recognized long ago! Here comes one of them now!

(_A landed proprietor comes up the road._)

THE KING.

God greet you, sir! Can you not give me work on your estate?

THE LANDED PROPRIETOR.

You might find much to recompense your work on my estate, but, thank
God, my house is guarded by fierce wolf hounds. And here, you see, I
carry a hunting knife, which I can use so well that I should not advise
you to come a step nearer me!

THE KING.

Sir, you have no guarantee from Heaven that you may not be compelled at
some time to beg for work in order not to go hungry.

THE LANDED PROPRIETOR.

Ha, ha, ha! He who works in order not to go hungry, he is the right
kind of worker for me! First comes work and then the hunger. Let him
who can live without work starve rather today than tomorrow!

THE KING.

Sir, you must have had wiser teachers than I!

THE LANDED PROPRIETOR.

I should hope so! What have you learned?

THE KING.

The trade of war.

THE LANDED PROPRIETOR.

Thank God, under the rule of King Pietro, whom Heaven long preserve to
us, there is little use for that in Umbria any longer. City and country
enjoy peace, and at last we live in concord with neighboring states.

THE KING.

Sir, you will find me of use for any work on your estate.

THE LANDED PROPRIETOR.

I will think over the matter. You appear a harmless fellow. I am on my
way to my nephew, who has a large house and family at Todi. I am coming
back this afternoon. Wait for me here at this spot. Possibly I will
take you with me then. (_Exit._)

THE KING.

"Let him who can live without work starve." What old saws this vermin
cherished to endure his miserable existence! And I?----I cannot even
feed my child! A lordship was given me by Heaven such as only one in a
million can have! And I cannot even give my child food!----My kind
father made every hour of the day a festival for me by means of joyous
companions, by the wisest, teachers, by a host of devoted servants, and
my child must shiver with cold and sleep under the hedges by the
highway! Have pity on her, O God, and blot her love for miserable me
out of her heart! Let happen to me then whatever will, I will bear it
lightly!

ALMA.

(_Rushes out of the bushes with her hair tumbling down._) Father! Jesu
Maria! My father! Help!

THE KING.

(_Clasping her in his arms._) What is it, child?

A VAGABOND.

(_Who has followed the maiden, comes forward and stops._) Ah!--How
could I know another had her!

THE KING.

(_Rushes upon him with uplifted stick._) Hence, you dirty dog!

THE VAGABOND.

I a dirty dog! What are you, then?

THE KING.

(_Striking him._) That am I!--And that!--And that!

(_The vagabond seeks refuge in flight._)

ALMA.

(_Trembling in her father's arms._) O Father, I was leaning over the
spring when that man sprang at me!

THE KING.

(_Breathing hard._) Calm yourself, my child

ALMA.

My poor father! That I, instead of being able to help you, must still
need your help!

THE KING.

Today I shall take you back to Perugia. Will throw you at King Pietro's
feet----

ALMA.

Oh, do not let me hear of that again! Can I leave you when death
threatens you daily?

THE KING.

It would be better for you to wear man's clothes, instead of a woman's
dress, in the future. It is marvel enough that Providence has protected
you until today from the horrors that threaten you in our wanderings!
You will be safer in man's clothes. A countryman just passed this way.
When he comes back he will take me with him and give me work on his
place.

ALMA.

Will you really seek again to put yourself in the service of those so
abyssmally beneath you?

THE KING.

What are you saying, my child! Why are they below me?----Besides, it is
not quite certain that he will find me worthy of his work. If he asks
me to go with him, then follow us, so that I can turn my place under
his roof over to you at night.

ALMA.

No, no! You must not suffer hardship on my account. Have I deserved
that of you?

THE KING.

Do you know, my child, that if I had not had you with me, my treasure,
as guardian angel, I should very probably be hanging today on a high
gallows for highway robbery?----(_He sits down again by the
road-side._) And now, let us tarry here in patient expectation of the
all-powerful man whose return will decide whether our desire to live in
communion with mankind is to be fulfilled.




ACT II




SCENE ONE.


THE WORKSHOP OF A LADIES' TAILOR.


(_The King, in journeyman's clothes, sits cross-legged on a table,
working on a woman's gown of rich material. Master Pandolfo bustles
into the room._)


MASTER PANDOLFO.

Early to work, Gigi! Early to work! Bravo, Gigi!

THE KING.

The cock has crowed, Master!

MASTER PANDOLFO.

Now shake me the other fellows awake. One can work better in company
than alone, Gigi! (_Takes the dress out of his hands._) See here, Gigi!
(_He tears the dress._) Rip! What's the use of early to bed and early
to rise if the stitches don't hold? And the button-holes, Gigi! Did the
rats help you with them? I worked for Her Majesty Queen Amelia when her
husband was still making mortadella and salmi. Am I to lose her custom
now because of your botching? Hey, Gigi?

THE KING.

If my work shames you, turn me out!

MASTER PANDOLFO.

How rude, Gigi! Do you think you are still tending pigs at Baschi?
Forty years on your back and nothing learned! Go packing out of my
house and see where you will find your food, then, you vagabond!

THE KING.

(_Rises and collects the scraps._) I'll take you at your word, Master!

MASTER PANDOLFO.

What the devil, madcap; can't you take a joke? Can I show more love
toward my 'prentice than I do when I give him the work which usually
the master does? Since you have been with me haven't I allowed you to
cut all the garments? The devil take me that I cannot catch the knack
of your cutting! But the ladies of Perugia say, "Master Pandolfo, since
the old apprentice has