Such is Life. Франк Ведекинд

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!