The Awakening of Spring. Франк Ведекинд
Читать онлайн.| Название | The Awakening of Spring |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Франк Ведекинд |
| Жанр | Драматургия |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Драматургия |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn |
That might happen with animals–
I believe the same of human beings. I assure you, Moritz, if your boys sleep in the same bed with the girls, and the first emotion of manhood comes unexpectedly to them—I should like to wager with anyone–
You may be right—but after all–
And when your girls reached the same age it would be the same with them! Not that the girls exactly—one can't judge that the same, certainly—at any rate, it is supposable—and then their curiosity must not be left out of account.
A question, by the way–
Well?
But you will answer?
Naturally!
Truly?!
My hand on it.–Now, Moritz?
Have you written your composition yet??
Speak right out from your heart!–Nobody sees or hears us here.
Of course, my children will have to work all day long in yard or garden, or find their amusement in games which are combined with physical exercise. They must ride, do gymnastics, climb, and, above all things, must not sleep as soft as we do. We are weakened frightfully.–I believe one would not dream if one slept harder.
From now until fall I shall sleep only in my hammock. I have shoved my bed back of the stove. It is a folding one. Last winter I dreamed once that I flogged our Lolo until he couldn't move a limb. That was the most gruesome thing I ever dreamed.–Why do you look at me so strangely?
Have you experienced it yet?
What?
How do you say it?
Manhood's emotion?
M—'hm.
Certainly!
I also – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I've known that for a long while!–Almost for a year.
I was startled as if by lightning.
Did you dream?
Only for a little while—of legs in light blue tights, that strode over the teacher's desk—to be correct, I thought they wanted to go over it. I only saw them for an instant.
George Zirschnitz dreamed of his mother.
Did he tell you that?
Out there on the gallow's road.
If you only knew what I have endured since that night!
Qualms of conscience?
Qualms of conscience??–The anguish of death!
Good Lord–
I thought I was incurable. I believed I was suffering from an inward hurt.–Finally I became calm enough to begin to jot down the recollections of my life. Yes, yes, dear Melchior, the last three weeks have been a Gethsemane for me.
I was more or less prepared for it when it came. I felt a little ashamed of myself.–But that was all.
And yet you are a whole year younger than I am.
I wouldn't bother about that, Moritz. All my experience shows that the appearance of this phantom belongs to no particular age. You know that big Lämmermeier with the straw-colored hair and the hooked nose. He is three years older than I am. Little Hans Rilow says Lämmermeier dreams now only of tarts and apricot preserves.
But, I ask you, how can Hans Rilow know that?
He asked him.
He asked him?–I didn't dare ask anybody.
But you asked me.
God knows, yes!–Possibly Hans, too, has made his will.–Truly they play a remarkable game with us. And we're expected to give thanks for it. I don't remember to have had any longing for this kind of excitement. Why didn't they let me sleep peacefully until all was still again. My dear parents might have had a hundred better children. I came here, I don't know how, and must be responsible because I didn't stay away.–Haven't you often wondered, Melchior, by what means we were brought into this whirl?
Don't you know that yet either, Moritz?
How should I know it? I see how the hens lay eggs, and hear that Mamma had to carry me under her heart. But is that enough?–I remember, too, when I was a five year old child, to have been embarrassed when anyone turned up the décolleté queen of hearts. This feeling has disappeared. At the same time, I can hardly talk with a girl to-day without thinking of something indecent, and—I swear to you, Melchior—I don't know what.
I will tell you everything. I have gotten it partly from books, partly from illustrations, partly from observations of nature. You will be surprised; it made me an atheist. I told it to George Zirschnitz! George Zirschnitz wanted to tell it to Hans Rilow, but Hans Rilow had learned it all from his governess when he was a child.
I have gone through Meyer's Little Encyclopedia from A to Z. Words—nothing but words and words! Not a single plain explanation. Oh, this feeling of shame!–What good to me is an encyclopedia that won't answer me concerning the most important question in life?
Did you ever see two dogs running together about the streets?
No!–Don't tell me anything to-day, Melchior. I have Central America and Louis the Fifteenth before me. And then the sixty verses of Homer, the seven equations and the Latin composition.–I would fail in all of them again to-morrow. To drudge successfully I must be as stupid as an ox.
Come with me to my room. In three-quarters of an hour I will have the Homer, the equations and two compositions. I will put one or two harmless errors in yours, and the thing is done. Mamma will make lemonade for us again, and we can chat comfortably about propagation.
I can't–I can't chat comfortably about propagation! If you want to do me a favor, give me your information in writing. Write me out what you know. Write it as briefly and clearly as possible, and put it between my books to-morrow during recess. I will carry it home without knowing that I have it. I will find it unexpectedly. I cannot but help going over it with tired eyes–in case it is hard to explain, you can use a marginal diagram or so.
You are like a girl.–Nevertheless, as you wish. It will be a very interesting task for me.–One question, Moritz?
Hm?
Did you ever see a girl?
Yes!
All of her?
Certainly!
So have I!–Then we won't need any