Magda A Play in Four Acts

Excerpt

MAGDA.

ACT I.

Scene. Living-room in house of Lieutenant-Colonel Schwartze, furnished in simple and old-fashioned style. Left, at back, a glass door with white curtains through which the dining-room is seen. There is also a hall door, through which a staircase to the upper story is visible. Right, a corner window, with white curtains, surrounded by ivy. Left, a door to the Lieutenant-Colonel's room. Steel engravings of a religious and patriotic character, in tarnished gold frames, photographs of military groups, and cases of butterflies on the walls. Right, over the sofa, among other pictures, is the portrait of the first Mrs. Schwartze, young and charming, in the costume of the sixties. Behind the sofa, an old-fashioned desk. Before the window, a small table with workbox and hand sewing-machine. At the back, between the doors, an old-fashioned tall clock. In the left-hand corner, a stand with dried grasses; in front, a table with a small aquarium. Left, in front, a corner sofa with a small pipe-cupboard behind it. A stove with a stuffed bird on it; and behind, a bookcase with a bust of the old Emperor William.

[Marie and Theresa discovered. Theresa at the door. Marie is occupied with the sewing-machine.]

THERESA.

Miss Marie!

Well!

THERESA.

Is your father still lying down?

What's the matter? Has any one called?

THERESA.

No, but-- There! Look at that! [Producing a magnificent mass of flowers.]

Good Heavens! Take it to my room quickly, or papa-- But, Theresa, when the first came yesterday, weren't you told not to let any more be left?

THERESA.

I'd have sent the florist's boy away if I could, but I was up on the ladder fixing the flag, and he laid it down and was gone before I could stop him. My, my, though, they're beautiful! and if I might make a guess, the Lieutenant--

You may not make a guess.

THERESA.

All right, all right. Oh, I know what I wanted to ask. Does the flag hang well? [Marie looks out, and nods assent.]

The whole town is full of flags and flowers, and the most expensive tapestries are hung out of the windows. One would think it was the King's birthday. And all this fuss is about a stupid Music Festival! What is this Music Festival, Miss Marie? Is it different from a choral festival?

MARIE.

Yes, indeed.

Is it better?

MARIE.

Oh, much better!

Oh, well, if it's better-- [A knock.]

MARIE.

Come in! Enter Max.

Well, now I suppose I can leave the flowers.

[Exit Theresa, laughing.

MARIE.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Max.

What on earth do you mean?

MARIE.

Aren't these flowers yours?

Good Heavens! I can afford a few pennies for a bunch of violets once in a while, but this-- Oh, no!

MARIE.

Nor yesterday's?

No, nor yesterday's. [Marie rings.]

Enter Theresa.

MARIE.

Please throw these flowers away.

What! Throw those beautiful flowers away?

MARIE.

You are right. The pastor would say, "If God's gifts do not please us, we must at least take care that they give pleasure to others." Wouldn't he?