UC-NRLF SB EflO DM0 m - m I \J DR. MAX NORDAU HE SHACKLES OF FATE. A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. BY MAX NORDAU, litter of "The Ailment of the Century- -How Women Love" "The Right to Love," "The Comedy of Sentiment," "Soap Bubbles" etc. F. TENNYSON NEELY, PUBLISHER, LONDON. NEW YORK, Nedy's Prismatic Library. GILT TOP, 50 CENTS. * I know of nothing in the book line that equals Neely's Prismatic Library for elegance and careful selection. It sets a pace that others will not easily equal and none surpass." E. A. ROBINSON. SOUR SAINTS AND SWEET SINNERS.^ By Carlos Martyn. SEVEN" SMILES AND A FEW FIBS. By Thomas J. Vivian. With full-page illustrations Ivy tvell-known, artists. A XLO&EKN PKOMETI1EUS. By E. Phillips Oppenheim. THE SHACKLES OJF F^LTE. By Jslam Nordau. F PARIS. * * jRy Jo&tf {F & foxing. With over SO il- * lustrations tbyl Iftillia' , Hofacher. J$y Loota. By Helen I>avies. Jly IfOuis Lombard. THE HONOR OF A PRINCESS. 7??/ 1\ Kimball Scribner. OBSERVATIONS OF A BACHELOR. T$y Louis Lombard. SINGS IN ADVERSITY. Ey E. 8. Van Zile. NOBLE BLOOJ> AND A WEST FOISX PARALLEL. By Cuptain, King. TRUMPETER FRED. By Captain Sling. Illustrated. FATHER STAFFORD. By Anthony Hope. THE KING IN YELLO W. By R. W. Chambers. IN THE QUARTER, By R. W. Chambers. A PROFESSIONAL LOVER. By Gyp. BIJOU'S COURTSHIPS. Bu Gyp. Illustrated. A CONSPIRACY OF THE CARBONARI. Bit Louise Muhlbach. SOAP BUBBLES. By 2>r. Mace Nordau. F.TENNYSON NEELY, PUBLISHER, NEW YORK, LONDON. Copyrighted In the United State* and Great Britain In MDCCCXCVII by F. Tennyson A/eely* All rights reserved. t\w&*&&v*^^ DRAMATIS PERSONS. ECKBAUM, - - Attorney and Notary Public FRITZ SICKART, - Attorney, his partner VON EWES, - Clerk in EcTclaum's office CHAMBERLAIN ERNEST VON PEPPING. MRS. ECKBAUM. MRS. SICKART - - Fritz's mother MRS. GERDA VON DOBBELIN, nee VON PEP- PING. MRS. VON OLDERODE. LOUISE WAHBE. CATHERINE, - Servant at the SicTcarts 3 MAID, -EB, ) , At Mrs. Von Dollelin's BUTLER. Scene is laid in Berlin. Time: The present. 440476 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. ACT I. A drawing-room, simply furnished. To the right are tivo ivindows, a small glass cabinet be- tween them, and a telephone near first window. To the left a door and a white tile stove. In the background is a door leading into dining- room. To the left to front of stage are a ' table, sofa and four armchairs. Two chairs, one on each side of stove. SCENE I. MRS. SICKART, MR. ECKBAUM,, MRS. ECKBAUM, MR. VOK EWES, MR. SICKART. Wlien the curtain goes up the door in the back- ground is open, showing dining-room, where the table is laid for a meal which has just been ended. In the doorway stands Mrs. Sickart on Attorney Eckbaum's arm. Behind them Attorney Sickart, 6 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. who offers his awn to Mrs. Eckbaum, and Von Ewes, :Mrs. Sickart, about sixty years old, very simply dressed? wearily a white cap and white apron, draws tack hesitatingly and wishes to let Attorney Eckbaum pass out first. ECKBAUM. Oh, I beg of you SlCKART. ( With scarcely repressed impatience. ) Keally, mother, do go on. ( Mrs. Sickart starts slightly and steps quicTcly into drawing-room. The others follow. Eclcbaum leads Mrs. Sickart to the sofa. She seats herself shyly on the extreme edge in the corner, and does not lean lack. Mrs. Eckbaum sinks down com- fortably beside her. She is richly dressed and holds a long -handled lorgnon which she raises frequently to her eyes. Eckbaum and Von Eives take armchairs. Sickart brings out of glass cabinet a box of cigars and a match-box which he places on table.) SICKART. (To Eckbaum.) May I offer yon a cigar? ECKBAUM. (Looking in the box.) Are they strong? THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. ? SlCKART. (Handing lox to Von Ewes.) Medium. VOK EWES. No, I thank you; I prefer a cigarette. (Taking out his cigarette case.) ECKBAUM. (Lighting a cigar at the match which Sickart holds for him.) Thanks. (To Mrs. Sickart.) Ah! I beg par- don; I trust you do not object to smoking. MES. SICKART. (Stammers.) Ah, no, I dare not. Heaven knows, we poor women must SICKART. (Makes a hasty movement and looks at his mother^ who ceases speaking immediately and looks aimlessly around the room. Turning to Mrs. Ecklaum:) You, madam, permit it I know. MRS. ECKBAUM. I am so fond of the smell of tobacco, that I almost VON EWES. (Quickly.) May I offer you, perhaps (Offers her his cigarette case.) 8 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. ECKBAUM. You are too kind. It suffices me that the gentle- men smoke something good. SCENE II. ECKBAUM, MRS. ECKBAUM, YOST EWES, SICKART, MRS. SICKART. (Catherine brings in coffee.) MRS. SICKART. (In a loiv voice to Catherine.) Have you put away the cake? CATHERINE. (Serving the coffee, sullenly.) What cake? MRS. SICKART. 1 The cake left on the table. CATHERINE. "Yes, yes. SICKART. (Quickly, in a whisper, with suppressed anger.) Keally mother, do let that rest for the present. MRS. SICKART. But I really must VON EWES. (Whom Catherine serves before Mrs. SicJcart, hands his cup to the latter and helps himself to the THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 9 next cup. Sickart turns Ms ~back on Ms mother and offers Mrs. Eckbaum the sugar bowl. After the latter has helped herself, using the tongs, Mrs. SicTcart sticks in her fingers, fishes out a lump of sugar, sticks it between her teeth and begins to suck up her coffee through it. Furious glances at her. Exit Catherine.) SCENE III. SlCKART, MBS. SlCKART, ECKBAUM, MRS. ECK- BAUM, VON EWES. (The telephone bell rings.) SlCKART. Will yon allow me. (Goes to telephone. Speaks loudly, pausing between sentences to listen.) Attorney Sickart. Who is it? (Eagerly.) Oh! Beg pardon. Yes, indeed. We have won a com- plete triumph. Divorce granted against Mr. Von Dobbelin. He pays all costs. We keep the child. Beg pardon. Oh, certainly. Have already sent her a note by special delivery. At five o'clock I shall make my report in person. You are too kind, my dear Chamberlain, too flattering. It was only my duty. Thanks, Yes, it is all over now. (Goes back to table. To Eckbaum :) Cham- berlain Von Pepping has been inquiring about the verdict. 10 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. ECKBAUM. Hm ! He is pleased, eh? SICKART. Very. MES. ECKBAUM. Ah! that must be your case of to-day, which you mentioned at table. SICKART. It is. Mr. Von Pepping is the only brother of Mrs. Von Dobbelin. He was naturally excited about the outcome. MRS. ECKBAUM. I am, too. Ah! do tell me about it! I am very much interested in it. ECKBAUM. Ah! do not let us discuss a divorce case like that. MRS. ECKBAUM. Why not? The ending is just like a novel. You men are always laughing at us women because of our love of the last page. SICKART. Well as I just told Mr. Von Pepping, the divorce has been granted to Mrs. Von Dobbelin. She is free, she receives her marriage settlement back, and keeps the child. TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. 11 MBS. ECKBAUM. The poor woman! I do not begrudge it her. What sort of a person is it to whom Mr. Von Dob- belin threw the handkerchief? SICKART. Ah! it is hardly to be believed, dear madam ! MRS. ECKBAUM. Possibly even old and ugly? SICKART. * Well, hardly that. A young, fresh creature, but common to a degree! A kitchen maid, or some- thing of the kind. MRS. ECKBAUM. Eeally? Ah! these men! What an awful race! A landed knight a man of good society! SICKART. It is true. I am no saint, not even a hypocrite. But what is too much On one side Mrs. Von Dobbelin, a charming, highly cultivated, virtuous woman, whom he not only neglects and deceives, but also ill-treats; on the other hand this person a common servant. MRS. SICKART. (Lets her coffee spoon fall ivith a clatter on the table. Sickart starts and bites his lips. ) 12 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. ECKBAUM. But how interested you were in the case, Mr. Sickart! Vcw EWES. If yon had only seen and heard him in court! Such overwhelming eloquence! He was like an avenging angel. He will certainly become a famous divorce lawyer. To your specialty! (Lifts Ms coffee cup and drinks.) MRS. SICKART. (Rises quietly, goes to the stove, and is about to put in some fuel. Von Ewes springs to his feet to forestall Tier. Sickart also hurries over to his mother and grasps her by the arm. Mrs. Eckbaum nudges Eckbaum and points to group at stove.) SICKART. Keally, mother, why do you not ring for Cath- erine? MRS. SICKART. (Creeps "back to Tier chair, embarrassed.) Self-served, well served. (Seats herself ly Mrs. EcTclaum.) It is easy to give orders, but one is never sure how they will be carried out. (Mrs. Eckbaum nods laughingly.) ECKBAUM. Yes, Sickart, it is indeed a triumph. After a fourteen months' struggle Mrs. Von Dobbelin and THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 13 ler brother were still unable to bring forward any conclusive proofs,, and now, at the end of two weeks, you had everything ready for trial proofs, witnesses, his best-beloved MRS. ECKBAUM. His kitchen love. Vosr EWES. I am wondering how you managed it all. Espe- cially the " kitchen love," as Mrs. Eckbaum says you seemed to have entirely hypnotized her. SICKART. It was only because I was in dead earnest about the thing. Dobbelin had been watched for some time. If only the trail be first discovered, well- placed tips, a few interviews with hotel-keepers, waiters, cab-drivers, etc., do the rest. MRS. ECKBAUM. But that is really detective work. SICKART. We must not think ourselves too good for that kind of work. ECKBAUM. Hm that is one opinion. SICKART. It is my opinion. Now listen: An unfortunate woman is fighting for a little happiness in life, 14 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. against an unscrupulous man, and all the odds are on his side. I am called to help her. With the regulation work on the case and the usual court business nothing is achieved. Things have got to be hurried along with more vim, more energy. Our opponent must feel that we have cornered him. I take the affair up as I would a private quarrel of my own. I " shadow," I creep after him, I act as promptly as I should have done were it for my- self. And I assure you, dear madam, I experi- enced the same feeling of delight as an Indian over a scalp when at last I had him down and could pound him to my heart's content. MBS. ECKBAUM. I should never have thought a lawyer's work held so much Indian bloodthirstiness. SICKART. Every profession in which one must combat con- tains it. It is that which makes life worth living. Even the modern man can still be a hero on the battlefield; even Ms heart can still be moved there. EWES. {Sings.) He courts not long, he offers no gold, In onslaught he seizes the minnesold. (Taps SicTcart laughingly on the shoulder.} THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 15 SlCKART. What do you mean? MRS. ECKBAUM, I really believe you are reddening. SICKART. I really do not know wherefore. MRS. ECKBAUM. Now, just confess that you find your client un- usually interesting. Votf EWES. She is a beautiful woman. SICKART. Who thinks of that when one has one's profes- sional duty to perform? MRS. ECKBAUM. Now, now - EWES. For my part I confess honestly that I would rather have to do in my office with pretty women than with worthy graybeards. But then I am only a clerk. My state exams, will perhaps change my taste. MRS. SICKART (Has quietly arisen and tries to get through the door unnoticed.) 16 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Quickly, excitedly.} Where now, already? MKS. SICKAKT. I want to go to the kitchen. SICKART. What do you want in the kitchen? MRS. SICKART. I wish to see if Catherine is washing the china properly? SICKART. Let her be, and stay quietly where you are. MRS. SICKART. (Seats herself, sighing, near the stove.) MRS. ECKBAUM. The careful housewife. MRS. SICKART. Yes, if one does not see to it oneself, nothing goes right. But a boy never understands that. (Short pause of embarrassment. ) MRS. ECKBAUM. Does Mrs. Von Dobbelin know already how the case has been concluded? SICKART. I have only sent her a special delivery card. This evening I intend to report to her fully. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 17 MRS. ECKBAUM. Verbally? SlCKART. Certainly. Simple politeness commands that. VON EWES. The victor in the tournament receives his prize from the white hand of a lady fair. To your health! (Drinks the rest of his coffee.) SICKART. I do not know why you are continually reveling in such troubadourish similes. N EWES. No. You only picture it to yourself from a warlike standpoint. You have broken a lance to- day so that the splinters flew. The excitement of the spectator still possesses me. ECKBAUM. Yes, my honored Sickart, you have a warlike nature. VON EWES. You are a born fighter. A soldier was lost in you. MRS. ECKBAUM. But you are a reserve officer? SICKART. Er no, madam. $8 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. ECKBAUM. No? Votf EWES. (Breaking in.) I do not see, anyway, how in times of peace he could satisfy his fighting instincts as reserve officer, MKS. ECKBAUM. It is true. The world has grown very narrow for restless natures. SICKAKT. One cannot choose the times in which one lives. One must just try to make the best of existing circumstances. MKS. ECKBAUM. Ah! formerly it was much nicer. Then there were brigands, filibusters, pirates - EWES. Those are extant now; for example, in finance. MKS. ECKBAUM. But they wear no costume. SICKAKT. That is the only difference, dear madam. The costume changes, but the men remain the same. They have the same desires only they gratify them after a somewhat different manner. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 19 MRS. SlCKAET (Has taken advantage of the preceding interested conversation to quietly get up and go out.) SCENE IV. SAME PERSONS MINUS MRS. SICKART. ECKBAUM. That is all very fine and good. Yon mnst be careful in yonr desire for single combat. SICKART. Why? It is the seasoning of a somewhat dry profession. ECKBAUM. But the profession will not stand much of this seasoning. CATHERINE. (Entering.) A note by special delivery, Mr. Sickart. SICKART. Thanks. (Catherine goes out.) With your permission. (Opens the note.) Ah! Mrs. Von Olderode has arrived in Berlin. ECKBAUM. Eeally? Well, that is good. Now that affair can be concluded also. (Laughingly shaking his 20 THE SUACKLES OF FATE. finger.) See here, Sickart, as you have been speak- ing of the seasoning of our profession: in this Olderode affair perhaps you put in too much pepper. SiCKART. Ah, that was a peculiar case. That was so very personal. Even if I did let myself be somewhat carried away MRS. ECKBAUM. There you are again! I wager there is again a woman in the case. SlCKART. Certainly, but not in the sense you mean. Mrs. Von Olderode is an old lady. I am more indebted to her than to anybody in the world. I looked upon it as a piece of good luck that I was allowed to fight for her rights. You can find it only natural that a man should pull with all his strength on the ropes in such a case. ECKBAUM. Hm yes, of course; only not so that the ropes break. SICKART. Well, that did not happen. MRS. ECKBAUM. What sort of daring services did you render there? THE SHA CKLES OF FA TE. % 1 SlCKAKT. Mrs. Von Olderode had a rich brother who died two years ago. He was unmarried; his sister was thus his lawful heir. After his death a will is produced which makes his housekeeper sole in- heritor. You can imagine what a surprise it was. MRS. ECKBAUM. Was it a question of much money? SICKAET. About half a million marks. MRS. ECKBAUM. Eeally? SlCKART. Yes, indeed. Well, we were all convinced that entirely undue influence had been exerted. Your husband at first argued the unfitness of the testa- tor to make a will. The affair dragged itself along for two years without making any progress. In the meantime I became partner. I settled in Ber- lin, really to take up the case, and began on another tack. Vo^ EWES. Presto! and it was done. ECKBAUM. Yes, but MRS. ECKBAUM. How? Also with the scalping-knife? 22 THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. SlCKART. I attacked the inheritance thief. I yes, it is true. I hunted her into the Bocksliorn (into a cor- ner). I knew a good deal, and I made up the rest. I persuaded her I had witnesses and proofs, and I threatened the gallows and hell flames in short, the person became frightened, confessed all, and gave up the money. MRS. EOKBAUM. Is Mrs. Von Olderode in needy circumstances? SICKART. No; but still one has always use for half a million. VOK EWES. (Very loud.) Eight you are! ECKBAUM. I agree. You did indeed help right to triumph. Your zeal in the Olderode affair pleased me from the beginning. Even the idea of making you my partner only occurred to me on account of the way you worked on the case, even in your communications from Guben. But the end does not always justify the means, and the means which you used were really a little a little stiff. SICKART. But I had no choice. I wished to push it through at any cost. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 33 MRS. ECKBAUM. But what is Mrs. Von Olderode to you that she should inspire you with such a contempt for death? That is, if the question be not impertinent. SICK ART. Not at all, dear madam. I have already told you that I owe much to Mrs. Von Olderode. She has shown much kindness to me and mine. We we were poor, and for many years she helped my parents. (Suddenly.) I am not ashamed to con- fess that I am the child of very poor people. MRS. ECKBAUM. Who need be ashamed of that? What is greater than to work oneself up by one's own efforts? SICKART. By one's own efforts hm yes. That shall happen in the future. Until now, however, Mrs. Von Olderode has done the most for me. My studies were carried on by her help MRS. ECKBAUM. Is she a relation of yours? SICKART. Well really very distant. ( Von Eives looks at him in surprise.) That was not the reason why. We er we lived in Guben in her house. She had one son, Carl by name; he was just my age. We grew up together, played together, were 34 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. taught together. We were very fond of each other. Even now when I think of him I am almost ashamed there, I must not become maud- lin. To cut it short: when Carl was twelve years old he died of diphtheria. MRS. ECKBAUM. How awful! SlCKAET. His mother's despair it cannot be described. And because he loved me even in his illness he asked for me constantly, but, of course, they would not let me see him. Mrs. Von Olderode looks on me as on a reminiscence of him. And she has always been like a second mother to me. Voisr EWES. (Sighing.) Some would be happy if they only had one. You are a lucky mortal. MKS, ECKBAUM. Now, of course, I understand. SICKABT. Is it not so? Then the brother of Mrs. Von Olderode died. We were given the dispute over that crazy will to settle. Mrs. Von Olderode has "been a widow for years. You can imagine how glad I was that I could be of service to her. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. ECKBAUM. And as it comes from you it must cause great pleasure to Mrs. Von Olderode. I can feel with her. ECKBAUM. (Looking at Ms watch, to his wife.) It is really time (All rise.) SICKART. You are going already? VON EWES. Don't pretend you are crazy, too, to receive the thanks of beautiful Mrs. Von Dobbelin. SICKART. (Impatiently.) I pray you, drop that. The joke is much less entertaining than you think. VON EWES. Be good, now, young man. It was not badly meant. SCENE V. THE SAME. MKS. SICKART. MRS. SICKART (Tears open door in background and rushes in.} Fritz! Fritz! My lady is here. 26 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Angrily.) Mother! (Turning to the others.) It is Mrs. Von Olderode. (To Mrs. Sickart.) Why do you not bring her in? j MRS. SICKART. She will not come on account of the guests. SICKART. Keally. Well, I will fetch her. ( To the others.) You will permit me? (Goes quickly through door in background, fottoived by his mother, clumsily.) SCENE VI. MR. ECKBAUM, MRS. ECKBAUM, Vois EWES. MRS. ECKBAUM. (Raising her hands in mock horror,) Oh! that woman! ECKBAUM. (Smiling.) She is from the country, that is all. MRS. ECKBAUM. A little too much from the country. Almost, one would say, from the colonies, from Cameroon, or somewhere near. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 27 YON EWES. I don't know, but somehow this old-fashioned person pleases me. And then she is so touching as a mother. MRS. ECKBAUM. That may be, but when I look at the woman I cannot get rid of the idea SCENE VII. THE SAME, MRS. VON OLDERODE, SICKART, MRS. SICKART. MRS. VON OLDERODE. (In dining-room.) Do let me take off my mantle at least. (Comes in. Mrs. Sickart and her son follow her. She remains standing, embarrassed, and bows. Mrs. Sickart bustles eagerly and fussily, pulls lip an armchair, tries to take off her bonnet. Mrs. Von Olderode motions her off.) SICKART. (Presenting.) Mrs. Eckbaum, Mr. Von Ewes, Mrs. Von Olde- rode. Mr. Eckbaum you know already. 28 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. Yew OLDERODE. Pardon the disturbance I did not wish to come in. SICKART. Here yon are always welcome. MRS. VOK OLDERODE. Bnt when yon have welcome guests MRS. SICKART. Dear madam, you are surely not going to say "Sie"tothe boy! MRS. Voisr OLDERODE. (Cautioning her laughingly.} Sh, sh. (To Eckbaum.) I am so thankful to you for all you did in my lawsuit. ECKBAUM. Oh, do not mention it, dear madam. Only my duty. Besides Sickart was much occupied with the case. MRS. Vo:tf OLDERODE. Yes, yes. (She gives Sickart her hand, nodding kindly, and he kisses it respectfully.) Mr. Von Ewes I knew a General Von Ewes once perhaps a relation of yours? Vo^r EWES. My uncle, madam. MRS. VOK OLDERODE. Ah! he is living, then, I hope? THE SHACKLES OF FATE, 29 VON EWES. Not far away. He is in the service (at disposal) and lives in Wiesbaden. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Keally? But indeed to appear this way, as though shot from a pistol, I must beg again to excused? MRS. ECKBAUM. We are not going to disturb you any longer, however. (Takes leave of Mrs. Von Olderode and Mrs. SicJcart and prepares to go.) MRS. VON OLDERODE. You see, I am driving you away. MRS. ECKBAUM. Not at all, dear madam, we were just going as MRS. VON OLDERODE. (To Ecklaum.) Again my best thanks. (To Ewes.) Greet the general for me, I pray you? VON EWES. I shall not fail to, dear madam. SlCKART. (To Mrs. Von Olderode.) Pardon me one second. ( To his mother, shortly.) You remain here. (Mrs. Ecklaum 9 Ecklaum, Von Ewes pass out through dining-room. SicJcart accompanies them.) 30 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SCENE VIII. MRS. VON OLDERODE, MRS. SICKART. MRS. VON OLDERODE (Seats herself in an armchair near the stove. Looks around.) Well, Kieke, do you like it in Berlin? MRS. SICKART. (Standing before her.) I am obliged to. After all bread is good to eat elsewhere. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Yon will soon make friends here. MRS. SICKART. Ah, that is not necessary at all. I am with my Fritz, and I do not bother myself about any others. MRS. VON OLDERODE. How nice your home is! MRS. SICKART. It has cost a murderous amount of money, too. Well you know that best of all. Yes, dear madam, if you had not been THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 31 SCENE IX. THE PREVIOUS PERSONS, PLUS SICKART. SICKART (Comes in, kisses Mrs. Von Olderode's hand again.) Are you not fatigued, dear madam? MRS. VON OLDERODE. Two and a half hours' journey is nothing. SICKART. You will take a cup of coffee? MRS. SICKART. Where are my old shaky wits, anyway? I will bring you coffee and cake at once. MRS. VON OLDERODE. (Declines it.) Thank you, no. MRS. SICKART. (Eagerly.) A beautiful cake, dear madam, which we had at noon. Fritz wished everything in style for his guests. MRS. VON OLDERODE. No, really, I must decline. I have no appetite. SICKART. One does not need to be as hungry as a wolf for a cup of coffee. 33 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MBS. SlCKABT. Ah, it is only here that our dear lady will never take anything. MBS. VON OLDEBODE. How can you think that, Eieke? Well, give me some coffee. MBS. SICKABT {Wishes to hurry out.) SICKABT. Do ring for Catherine! MBS. SICKABT. No, indeed! When it is anything for my dear lady I shall attend to it myself. SCENE X. MBS. VON OLDEBODE, SICKABT. MBS. VOK OLDEBODE. So the case is all arranged. SICKABT. Entirely so. You have only to sign some papers. MBS. Vosr OLDEBODE. You did some quick work there, my good Fritz. SICKABT. I considered myself very fortunate to be at last able to do something for my benefactress. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 33 MKS. VON OLDEKODE. Enough of that,, Fritz. You have done a great deal already. Ah, God knows, I was not so anxious to get the money. But there is so much misery in the world, and now I will again be able to help a little more." SICKART. You are always so. You think only of others, never of yourself. MKS. VON OLDERODE. You shall not praise me, Fritz. It is no great merit, after all. Whom have I in the world? My husband is dead. My child is dead (She draws her handkerchief over her eyes. Sic/cart takes her hand and kisses it.) No let that pass. But, tell me, Fritz, have we not been a little too hard on the person you know, to lose a fortune which one had already grown used to? SICKART. Dear madam, surely you are not sympathizing with that person! MRS. VON OLDERODE. Why not? Anyway she took faithful care of my poor brother during his last days. SICKART. Faithful care! She embittered his dying hour. She sat on his neck, so to speak, like an evil spirit, 34 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. and made him wretched until he signed the will just to get rid of the tormentor. MRS. VON OLDERODE. But is that quite certain, Fritz? SICKART. The person confessed it by word of mouth and in writing. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Well, then, of course SICKART. And, besides that, we give her an income for her life of three thousand marks, so she is really not to be pitied. MRS. VON OLDERODE. True. One thousand thalers in my time that was a large sum. But everything has changed in these days. SCENE XL THE SAME PERSONS, ALSO MRS. SlCKART. MRS. SICKART (Appears with coffee and cake, and serves Mrs. Von Olderode. Wliile the latter is drinking Mrs. Siclcart stands before her and gazes beamingly at her.} Ah, my dear lady! THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 35 MRS. VON OLRERODE. Well? MRS. SlCKART. I I don't trust myself. Fritz, why don't you speak? Ask her, then SICKART. Ask her what? MRS. SICKART. To beg our dear lady to stay with us. MRS. VON OLDERODE. (Quickly.) Ah! I thank you, no. I must stay in my old inn, which I have known for thirty years. In the city it is not as it is in Guben. You have no superfluous room. MRS. SICKART. But we have all this large dwelling. MRS. VON OLDERODE. No, no, no, Mrs. Sickart; why should I incon- venience you? MRS. SICKART. Now you call me Mrs. Sickart. You want to be formal with us, dear madam. MRS. VON OLDERODE. There is no question of such a thing, my dear my dear child. Everything between us shall 36 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. remain as formerly. But one must take some ac- count of changed circumstances. You live with me no longer, and Fritz is in the way of becoming a great and celebrated man. MRS. SICKAET. How, dear madam? MRS. VON OLDERODE. You sly one! You write me nothing about it. But we learn everything. SICKART. I do not know what you mean. MRS. VON OLDERODE. We read of you constantly in the papers. You have gone into politics. You wish to become member of Parliament for a borough near Berlin. SICKART. That is far ahead. I have spoken several times in clubs and party meetings. It was spoken of at our party convention to propose me, but only in an indirect way, it is not yet seriously meant; it does not run so easily as that. It costs money, and time and effort MRS. VON OLDERODE. Well, good Fritz, do not push forward too quickly. You have plenty of time. You have only been two weeks in Berlin. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 37 SlCKART. I want to forge ahead. I must. MRS. Votf OLDERODE. Qnite right, only not too quickly. Calmly, my dear boy, calmly. SICKART. I have a long road to travel, a much longer road than most, and I must reach a position, which a social position, which shall give me the right to mix with everybody on equal standing, even with the best people. For that reason I must strike out sharply. MRS. VON OLDERODE. You have grown fearfully ambitious. SICKART. There are circumstances in life which force one to be. MRS. VOK OLDERODE. I have no advice to give you. You are so much cleverer than I. But still my opinion is; not too fast, for the rest I wish you every joy and blessing. ( To Mrs. SicJcart. ) I trust the boy will give us much further joy. MRS. SICKART. As God wishes, dear madam. 38 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Before I go kindly send your servant down- stairs to my cab I have brought you something. (Mrs. Sickart goes quickly into the dining-room.) SlCKART. How good you are, dear madam. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Oh, it is not worth speaking of. Only a pair of goose livers. I know, you epicure, that you are fond of them. SICKART (Kisses Tier hand.) MRS. SICKART. (Enters.) It is attended to. What is it? MRS. VON OLDERODE. Only something for the kitchen. SICKART. May I pay my respects to you this evening at the inn? MRS. VON OLDERODE. Ah, no, my good Fritz, do not inconvenience yourself. I retire early. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 39 SCENE XII. THE SAME. LOUISE WAHBE. LOUISE. (Comes in shyly.) Good-evening, Mrs. Eieke. r (Sickart makes a motion of surprise, which he quickly suppresses.) MRS. SICKART. (Coldly.) Good-evening. Are you here, too? MRS. VON OLDERODE. She would come at any cost. (To Louise.) Have you delivered the basket? LOUISE. I have given it to the servant, madam. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Good. We are going now, Louise. LOUISE. Yes, madam, just one moment. (To Mrs. Sickart.) I was to greet you from all the people at home. MRS. SICKART. (Shortly.) Good. 40 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. LOUISE. (To Sickart hesitatingly.) Yon also Mr. Fritz. SICKART. (In a forced way.) Thanks, Louise, thanks. MRS. VON OLDERODE. Now, Lonise, yon have seen them too. To- morrow morning I am going to yonr office, my good Fritz. Farewell, then. (Goes out. Mrs. Sickart, follows her. Louise, who has remained behind on purpose, takes Sickart' s hand and presses it passionately. Sickart pulls it away quickly and lays his finger on his lips threateningly. Both go out. While they are outside, Catherine comes in and takes aivay the coffee cups.) SCENE XIII. MRS. SICKART, SICKART. MRS. SICKART. (Entering with her son.) We shonld not have allowed milady to go. No- body sleeps in the spare room. (Sickart walks excitedly up and down saying nothing. ) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 41 MBS. SlCKART. (More sloivly.) To be sure Louise is with her we are as well off without her but it seems to me you are angry. What is it Fritz? SICKART. (Suddenly halting before Mrs. Sickart.) What the matter is? What the matter is? There is enough the matter. Enough and to spare too, it cannot go on so any longer. No, mother, it will not do any longer. MRS. SICKART. (Frightened.) What I do not know have I SICKART. (Violently.) You you, of course. Who else? MRS. SICKART. Now, what have I done? SICKART. You actually ask, what? Just look at yourself in that cap with that apron. Only the basket is lacking, otherwise you could go immediately to market. When I invite people to dine with me, people whom I think a great deal of, you can at least put on a decent gown. 42 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Why did you not tell me? SICKART. You are not as stupid as that. So much con- sideration you might have for me without my having to tell you. And at the table, it was enough to make one tear out one's hair. Jumping up every minute, tearing out into the kitchen, waiting on Eckbaum. How many hundred times have I told you already; that is not the way to behave? MRS. SICKART. I am a simple woman. In my old days you cannot make me otherwise. SICKART. Do not talk such stuff to me. I only ask of you that you sit there quietly and do not speak. Even a person of your age can learn that. How can I show you to strange people? What must they think? MRS. SICKART. Very good, you do not need to quarrel with me about it. Next time I will not come to the table when there is company. SICKART. That does not help me at all. People know that my mother is living with me. I cannot hide you. THK SHACKLES OF FATE. 43 MRS. SICKART. Say I am ill. SlCKART. I cannot say that always. Such lies are soon found out. The servants look out for that. This day has made me tremble. I have put it off as long as was possible. It was not to be avoided any longer. The Eckbaums invited themselves. They were hurt because 1 had not presented them to my mother. (Laughing bitterly.) Now they know her, ha, ha, now they know her. MRS. SICKART ( Over whose cheeks the tears are running, tries to creep out of the room. ) SICKART. ( Graps her by the arm, leads her back to a chair, and pushes her down on it. Stands before her, endeavoring to be calm. ) No mother, no running away. We must talk it over. Don't cry. God knows I do not wish to hurt your feelings. But we must discuss the subject. It can't go on so, I make desperate efforts to get out of the ditch in which I was born. All in vain. There, there, there on my foot I drag the weight after me which ever and ever pulls me back. MRS. SICKART. Am I perhaps 44 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. Yon cannot help it, neither can I. It remains just so. MRS. SICKART. Ah, Fritz, may God forgive you. SICKART. Kindly drop that. You see I must remain to all eternity the son of the family coachman and the cook. I could not consider for a moment entering a volunteer regiment. You do not un- derstand how much depends on that, but I do. I was not able to become reserve officer; as business man I had no prospects. Now I am trying to make my way here in great Berlin, where nobody knows us. Do not make me impossible even here. MRS. SICKART. Stop, Fritz. This is sinful of you. You K&ve no need to be ashamed of your parents. You are no bastard. You are the child of honest people. To be poor is no disgrace. And to be in service is no shame, if one has always been honest. SICKART. Disgrace no no, I can't say that; but anyway a misfortune, if the son desires to better himself, if he wishes to be an equal in a society which MRS. SICKART. What shall I do? It is not my fault. I have THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 45 always been a good mother to you; I have not been less fond of you than the richest mother could have been. SICKART. (Taking Ms mother's hand, more gently.} I arn not reproaching you, mother, neither do I wish to wound you. If you could only understand me I do not want to drag this weight forever after me. MRS. SICKAKT. What can I do? Your poor father is dead. He, at least, can annoy you no longer. I wish I were with him, if that would help you any. (She dries her eyes.) SICKART. You know that I do not wish for your death. I have not been a bad son to you so far, I think. MRS. SICKART. No. God will bless you for it. But if I am in your way now I would rather die. SICKART. (Walking up and down.) Something must be done. You, also, could not be at peace and happy if you see that I am not successful because of you. (Remaining before her.) Mother, we must separate. 46 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SICKAKT. (Faintly.) Separate! SICKART. It is hard, but unavoidable. MRS. SICKART. Are you going to send me back- to Guben? SICKART. No. For there you are again only Mrs. Von Olderode's Eieke. And that is just what I want to stop. I will rent a small dwelling for you here in Berlin, and get a servant for you. MRS. SICKART. I do not need one. SICKART. Allow me to arrange everything. And there you will live quietly, and we will cause each other no more trouble. MRS. SICKART. What that will cost again! SICKART. (Angrily.) You only think of that. And it is a question of other things entirely my future, my life. MRS. SICKART. Ah! Fritz, Fritz! But I may come to see you every day for a few moments? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 47 SlCKART. (Quickly.) No. I will go to yon. Here people would see and hear you again. That cannot be avoided. Just remember how you burst in on me with Madame . I thought the earth would swallow me. MRS. SICKART (Holds her handkerchief to her eyes and weeps quietly.) SICKART. (Draios her hands away and kisses her on both cheeks. ) Come, mother, be sensible. Trust yourself to me. It must be. I have always been fond of you, and I shall always continue to be, and for that reason we must separate. I do not wish to look on you as a hindrance. I do not want to quarrel with you. You see, mother, I have been too yielding. I should have arranged it so in the be- ginning you for yourself, I for myself. Only for a couple of years. Let me first build my future up. Without the pinching boot it will go quickly. And when it is built up, then I will fetch you, and you will come in state. You see it in the same light, do you not, mother? MRS. SICKART. But to leave you so alone. Who will take care of you? 48 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKAET. Catherine. MKS. SICKABT. How can she be trusted if someone does not trot after her all day? What does a man know about running a house? Good heavens, Fritz, what a mess there will be here and how all the pretty things will go to wreck and ruin. (Sickart shrugs his shoulders impatiently.) Yes, if there were only a wife SICKABT. (Furiously.) Do you believe, perhaps, that I could make a decent marriage as long as (Stops short.) Well? MBS. SICKABT (Pauses for a moment, taken ly surprise, then sighing. ) Well, God will bring everything out right. (Rises and looks around the drawing-room.) Ah, Fritz, you will never get such a faithful servant as I again, (The curtain falls.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 49 ACT II. Tasteful little drawing-room. Rugs, portieres, mirrors, oil paintings, damask furniture. A "buhl" table with a large lamp. A high standard lamp with elaborate shade and a stool inlaid with mother-of-pearl near the sofa. Doors in the background right and left. SCENE I. GERDA. A MAID. GERDA. (About thirty years old; very elaborate house gown, is sitting on the sofa leaning back and look- ing in a hand glass. An open book lies on her lap. ) Do I not look worn out? MAID. (Standing near her.) Not a trace of it, milady; on the contrary, fresh as a rose. GERDA. (Laying the hand glass on the stool.) Ah, you with your flatteries. . 50 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MAID. But, milady, it is only the simple truth. SCENE II. THE SAME. SERVANT, SICKART. SERVANT. (Opening door in background.) Mr. Sickart. GERDA. (Vivaciously.) Show him in. (The maid goes out to the right. Sickart enters quickly. Servant closes door from outside behind him. Gerda lays her book quickly on the stool and goes forward to meet him with outstretched hand.) GERDA. At last! SICKART. (Kissing her hand.) I am not late, I believe. GERDA. Certainly not. But you can understand I was impatient. Free then? SICKART. Free. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 51 GERDA. Entirely free? SICKART. Entirely free. GEKDA. He has no more rights over me? He cannot fight the decree again? SICKART. The decision is definite. When the judgment has once been made legal that will happen in a few days then the past is buried. GERDA. (Holds her hand before her eyes a moment, then draws it away quickly. ) Ah, how easy it is to breathe now! How every- thing takes on new colors! All this wretchedness of years at an end what happiness! SICKART. (Looking deep into her eyes, slowly.) Why must one man's gain be another man's loss? GERDA. Oh, he will console himself. SICKART. Of whom are you speaking? GERDA. (Wonderingly.) Of Mr. Von Dobbelin, of course. 52 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. He is the least of my troubles. I am thinking of myself. GERDA. Then I do not understand SlCKART. And it is so simple, too the happy hours which I have had the good fortune to spend with you of late must I not fear that they are ended? GERDA. Ah, you are very kind that you should speak of these hours thus, for they were surely not so en- joyable. I was obliged to retail my tiresome woes to you. We were forced to discuss the petty an- noyances and meannesses of low-minded people. SlCKART. That is true, of course. But at least I could sit opposite you, I could see you and hear you GERDA. You are the most gallant of all lawyers, doctor. (Seats herself on the sofa.) SlCKART. (Seating himself in the armchair close by.) Do you still only look on me as your lawyer? I was presumptuous, then, when I imagined I had become in some measure your friend? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 53 GERDA. (Warmly.) Presumptuous? No, Mr. Sickart. Of course, I look on you as my friend. I should be very blind and obtuse if I did not feel that you have met me in a different spirit since your entrance into Mr. Eckbaum/s office. Only the interest of a friend could have inspired you with the zeal SICKART. Now I am going to be still more presumptuous : only the interest of a friend? GERDA. (Embarrassed.) What else? SICKART. (Insist ingly.) So you have noticed nothing all this time? Is it possible you have not comprehended what your presence means to me? No look, no word has be- trayed to you what I feel when near you? That in itself is my condemnation. GERDA. I will not play the ingenue. I were no woman if I had not seen but that a young man makes love to a lady, just a little, that is so natural; one thinks nothing of it. 54 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. I know that you are accustomed to admiration. GERDA. {Quickly.) I did not mean that. SICKART. No, it is I who say it, who say it because of my deep feeling, because of my admiration, because of my reverence for you. Yet you could not have mistaken what I felt for the usual love-mak- ing business. If you did not consider me a frivo- lous whisperer of sweet nothings or a comedian, pure and simple, you must have known what an impression you have made on me. GERDA. (Draws back a little and is silent. After a short pause.) SICKART. You do not answer, dear madam. GERDA. (Hesitatingly.) What shall I say? You you surprise, you frighten me. SICKART. Why should it frighten you, if I tell you. (She motions beseechingly with her hand to stop him.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 55 Yes, when I tell you that you are dear to me that I have dared to dream of many things delicious, rosy dreams GERDA. (Clasping Jier hands.) I beg of you, Herr Sickart. I beg of you my friend not that not to-day. SICKART. Not to-day. And I, who for weeks have longed unspeakably for this minute, when I could hurry to you and say to you : You are free. You have now again full control over yourself, over your heart, over your hand. You can now be once more happy and make another happy. (Tries to possess himself of her hand.) GERDA. (Drawing Jier hand quickly away.") Oh, I beg of you do not speak so to me. You are making me lose all control of myself. I was so unprepared for this. How could I expect it! I, also, had been looking forward so much to your coming. I hoped that you would explain to me how everything from now on is to be arranged, and that your words would enable me to at last grasp the fact that I am free. SICKART. (Rising.) You persist then in regarding me only as your 56 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. lawyer. I crave your forgiveness. I was over t>old. You are right to bring me back to realities. (Bowing.) My lady GERDA. What! Yon are going! I have wonnded yon. God knows, I did not intend to. I beg of you, my friend, stay. My brother will soon be here, he wishes to see you also. SICKART. Thanks. You are too kind. I have already said too much to you to be able to stay here quietly when you impose silence upon me, when you warn me to calmly talk business only. That is beyond my power. With what hopes did I not come! GERDA. Pray sit down. (He obeys.) I did not com- mand you to be silent. I will gladly listen to you. But you must understand that all this has come on me so suddenly. SICKART. Why suddenly? I for my part have lived, reveled , for weeks in this idea. It was, perhaps, unutter- ably foolish, but all the time I imagined that I was working for myself in working for you. That really caused the zeal which you were so good as to notice. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 57 GERDA. But I did not suspect SICKART. Oh, yes you did suspect. You look at me in astonishment. You think me very bold I must be bold, otherwise the happiness of both of us will be lost. Yes, dear madam, our happiness. I can read your heart better than you can. With your pure soul you dare not listen to the dictates of your own soul. As long as you were not free you would have considered it a sin to have perceived impulses within you. I know your ideas on that subject therefore you have as yet not been willing to confess that you, also yes, I will venture it that you, too, feel more for me than you will acknowledge now. GERDA. (Anxiously.} Have I said or done anything which SICKART. (Interrupting.) No. You have kept your secret well, too well. But why this compulsion now. The bann is off you. You can open your heart. GERDA. I am as in a dream. I cannot collect myself. SICKART. Eemain in your dream. It shall become a love 58 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. dream. And you need never fear a painful awakening. GERDA. (After a short pause, arousing herself.) Such words sound sweetly and they move one but if you know what a fear seizes me at the same time. I have been so unhappy. SICKART. Who knows that better than I? But just on that acconnt GERDA. I suffered for six years more than I can tell you. And then this year's long martyrdom during the suit. I longed so for freedom, and now I am to give it up again immediately. A horror seizes me when I think of it. SICKART. I can feel all that with you. But who speaks of your losing your freedom. A love marriage is no slave's yoke. You have been very unhappy. Life owes you more than others. Oh, if you could only trust me, if you would only believe that it is my most absorbing desire to offer you that happiness which as yet you have not had and for which you are longing. GERDA. (Shaking her head feebly.) I have longed for freedom only. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 59 SlCKAKT. ( With conviction.} You do not realize yourself how much you desire to be happy and how necessary love is to you. You are such a gentle, kind, yielding creature, you require above all some strong arm on which to lean. (He passes his hand over her hair.) This dear head would so gladly rest on some pro- tecting shoulder. (He tries to draw her to him.) GERDA. (Defending herself faintly.) How is all this possible? I am a faded old woman. SICKART. Don't talk nonsense. You are the most beauti- ful, most fascinating woman GERDA. No, no, please do not say that to me. I am older than you SICKART. Hardly. GERDA. By four or five years. I confess at present that does not matter much, but in ten years SICKART. In ten years I will look on you with the same 60 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. eyes as now. I shall always picture you to myself just as I see you now. GERDA. That I do not believe, as it is contrary to all human nature. SICKART. I am a fool to waste time in all this talk instead of kissing your hands and feet. (He gets possession of her hands and covers them with passionate kisses.) GERDA. (Pulling away her hands.} I beg of you, do be sensible. SICKART. In all these objections your angelic nature shows itself again. You hold up your age, you act as though you were not good enough for me, as though this were the only obstacle between us no. What you in your delicacy and goodness do not mention, that I will state frankly. The truth is, in the opinion of society I have not the right to aspire to your hand. (She tries to inter- rupt him.} Allow me to go on. You are of noble birth, you are rich, you have a high position in society. I am poor indeed, I possess nothing but my wits and my profession I have no position, no THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 61 connections, no influence, nothing. That should prevent me raising my eyes to you, should it not? (She is silent.) And in spite of all this I venture to say to you: change your proud name for my humble one, become the wife of an unknown plebeian. Do you know what gives me the courage for this? Once and for all because I love you and you return my love. (With conviction.) For you do return it. I know it, I see it. I cannot be mistaken. And then: I am certain that I am not unworthy of you. If I win you, I undertake a heavy responsibility, but I am a man who can fulfill it. I shall make my name so renowned that people will envy you it. I seem too humble, per- haps, when I say to you I am poor, you are rich, I am nothing, you are a host; be mine, be my provi- dence, help me overcome the difficulties of^my stony path. I am much prouder than you think, for I add to this: I accept from you every sacri- fice, I even demand from you every sacrifice, be- cause I am sure that I shall repay you an hundred fold with love, with happiness, with fame. GEKDA. (Feebly.) You are a dangerous tempter. How could any weak woman withstand you. But I am not alone in the world. 62 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Exultantly.) You are your own mistress; no one can com- mand you. GERDA. I must have some consideration for my brother. You do not know him. He is so conservative SlCKART. Am I not so, too? Am I not an active member of the conservative party? GERDA. Yes, but he has prejudices. SICKART. I can overcome those, if I am sure of you. Am I sure of you? (She is silent. Insistingly.) Dear friend, am I sure of you ? GERDA. Ah, do not exact any binding promise from me. SICKART. I do exact it. You are all ready to give it, so let it be given. I shall then leave you, happy, while you for your part again find peace. GERDA (Shakes her head slightly, but at the same time gives him her hand.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 63 SlCKART. (Kneels lefore her, kisses her hands, draws her head on his shoulder and covers it with kisses. Stammers.} Thanks, thanks. GERDA. (Quickly in a low voice.) Do rise, my brother may come any moment. SlCKART. He shall be told. GERDA. (Quickly.) No, no, say nothing. He must be prepared. I entreat you, not a word. I am npset, and I can- not stand an explanation now. I must gain some composure first. Please sit down quietly here. \ SlCKART. (Seats himself.) I think you are worrying unnecessarily about the chamberlain. Plain speech GERDA. But what would the world say to that? SlCKART. It is no concern of the world's. GERDA. Will not evil tongues wag? 64 THE SHA CKLES OF FA TE. SlCKART. Why? GERDA. Hardly am I divorced when my lawyer, whom I have seen almost daily - SICKART. (Interrupting.) What of it? Why shouldn't a yonng man fall in love with a beautiful woman whom his business has caused him to see much of? Must every love affair originate at a ball? Besides this, no gossip can touch you. And if anybody should dare I am man enough to silence evil tongues. GERDA. You are always so belligerent. SICKART. About you? I would fight the whole world. I do not care to win you by words alone, but also SCENE III. ENTER CHAMBERLAIN VON PEPPING, SICKART, GERDA. PEPPING. (Enters quickly, taps Gerda tenderly on the cheek and gives Sickart, ivho rises, Ms hand.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 65 Ah/ my dear Sickart, you have done well. My sincere thanks and my heartfelt wishes for your future success. SICKART. (Bowing.) You are too kind, my dear chamberlain, I con- gratulate you still more on the final ending of the affair. VON PEPPING. That goes without saying. It is a relief for us all. From now on, however, you will have Dob- belin to contend with. SICKART. I? VON PEPPING. Yes. He is, you must know, a nasty customer*. He is abusing you terribly. He will never forgive you for the way you ran him to earth. SICKART. Pooh, what can he have against me? VON PEPPING. Don't believe that. He is, it must be under- stood, a man of influence and connections, and, as before said, a good hater. SICKART. He who will bake cake must first break the eggs for it. It cannot be otherwise. I_ am afraid of 66 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. nobody. Of course, just now he can make it un- comfortable for me. He can stir things up against me at the party convention; he can try to prevent my being nominated for member of parliament GERDA. Never mind, we have friends also. Votf PEPPING. Does he know that you are trying for this? SICKART. Of course he does. I make no secret of it, and It has been in the papers. But if I can count on your kindness, it will suffice to lay bare the motives of Mr. Von Dobbelin. Our party convention will never consent to become the tool of any individ- ual's thirst for revenge. Votf PEPPIHG. We will hope so. SICKART. He will not want to be brought into a contest which has yet to be brought to court. Vosr PEPPING. I thought that part of the affair was done with? SICKART. Only in as far as it concerns the baroness. But if we wish to deprive Mr. Von Dobbelin of every legal right to mix in your family affairs in the THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 67 future, we must wrest from him the guardianship of his child on the ground of unworthiness. VON PEPPING. Eeally? Is that absolutely necessary? Are you not going too far there? SICKART. I think if we wish to be consistent GERDA. And you would undertake the guardianship, would you not? SICKART. (Joyously.) If you wish to propose me to the courts. VON PEPPING. (Taken aback.) Keally, Gerda, what are you exacting from Mr. Sickart? SICKART. (Quickly.) Oh, my dear Von Pepping, I look on it as au honor and a joy. VON PEPPING. No, it seems to me uncalled for. SICKART. I give you my word, Mr. Von Pepping, that I regard it as a signal favor. 68 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. GERDA. We need a strong and skillful hand to defend the child's interests. SICKAKT. I trust you do not doubt my zeal? VON PEPPING. (Twirling Ms mustache.) Of course not, but SICKART. I should expect you to be associated with me as guardian, so that your nephew be well looked after. VON PEPPING. Yes but must that be arranged immediately? Why rush the thing so? GERDA. It is only a question of a simple formality. VON PEPPING. (To Gerda, decidedly.) Hm I think we will drop that for the present. We must talk it over first by ourselves. One more thing, my dear Sickart, what about the name? SICKART. The name? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 69 VON PEPPING. I mean, what name is my sister to be known by hereafter? SICKART. (Looking at Gerda.) That question will be settled of itself the day the baroness marries again. GERDA (Casts a frightened glance at him.) PEPPING. (Smiling.) That is understood, of course but until then? SICKART. (Is silent a moment and looks at Gerda. She gazes at him entreatingly.) Until then the baroness can resume her maiden name. For that a notice to the chief of police is all that is necessary. That can be attended to at once. VON PEPPING. Gerda von Pepping once again! Poor Gerda. GERDA. I was to be pitied at the time I gave up my name, not now. 70 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SICK ART. (Rising.) And as for the rest we will talk it over one of these days. VON PEPPING. What rest? SlCKART. In regard to the guardianship. VON PEPPING. Oh, well, that will arrange itself. SICKART. (Kissing Gerda's hand.) At your service, madam. (Gerda presses a lell.) Mr. Von Pepping VON PEPPING. (Giving Mm Ms hand.) Good-by. And again many thanks. (Accom- panies Mm to the door, which is opened ~by the serv- ant. Sickart goes out.) SCENE IV. GERDA, PEPPING. VON PEPPING. Well, really, Gerda, whatever made yon offer Mr. Sickart the guardianship in that off-hand manner? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 71 GERDA. (Quietly.) I think it is a very good idea. A guardian has legal business to attend to. Nobody can do that better than a clever lawyer. VON PEPPING. (Seating himself.) But the guardian of your son must be a member of the family, and for that one should not pick out the next best. GERDA. Has not Mr. Sickart been of great service to us? VON PEPPING. Of course. GERDA. Have we not trusted him with the management of my property? VON PEPPING. Yes. GERDA. Has he not shown himself worthy of our trust? VON PEPPING. Yes, but GERDA. Have you then a personal dislike to him? 73 THE SHA CKLES OF FA TE. VON PEPPING. Not an idea of it. GERDA. I am glad of that, because otherwise it would be hard for me to tell you something* (She hesi- tates.) VON PEPPING. To tell me what? GERDA. I don't know if I am doing right. PEPPING. Since when has my little Gerda had secrets from me? GERDA. Will you promise me to be very patient and land? VON PEPPING. Your hesitating is the only thing which makes me impatient. GERDA. Well, tjien Mr. Sickart has just asked me to marry him. VON PEPPING. (Springing up.) What? That man dared - THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 73 GERDA. (Quietly.) Yes. VON PEPPING. And you did not show him the door at once? GERDA. What right had I to do that? I did not feel offended. VON PEPPING. Gerda! I don't understand you. Who is this Sickart? We hardly know him we know nothing about him. GERDA. We know, I believe, that he is a very gifted young lawyer. And that he will succeed in life we can rest assured. VON PEPPING. (Walks up and down several times in silence, then remains standing before Gerda.) Gerda, why have you not been honest with me? GERDA. I have not been honest with you? VON PEPPING. No. This cannot have been sprung like a bomb. The thing must have been going on be- tween you for a long time. 74 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. GERDA. (Rising.) Ernest, you insult me! VON PEPPING. (Grasps her by the arm and leads her "back to the sofa.} Do not be so sensitive. If Mr. Sickart's request did not cause you to feel insulted, why should my supposition ? GERDA. You forget that until to-day I have been a married woman. PEPPING. Well? GERDA. Well, Mr. Sickart was tactful enough, he had respect enough for me, never to mention his love to me as long as I was not free. VON PEPPING. Hm is that so? Well, then, he certainly has lost no time. Baroness, I have the honor to in- form you that you are free. If I may now ask Charming, charming. The young man is business- like, that is not to be denied, if also not exactly of delicate sensibilities. But you, Gerda, do you love him then ? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 75 GEEDA. You have such a way of putting questions really VON PEPPING. Ah, yes forgive me, it is a little too light here for such a plain question. Well, what I want to know is, how you regard Sickart's wooing? GEKDA. It surprised me very much. VON PEPPING. Until now you had not thought of such a thing. Therefore you were indifferent to him. GERDA. Indifferent? That is saying too much. I don't know. I I noticed that I was not indifferent to him. And that confuses one so. To be truthful, I did not understand myself. I dreaded being frank with myself. I was not free. And I thought I saw in him only the gallant defender of my rights. 1 imagined that what I felt was only gratitude, but now I see more clearly. Now, too, it is permiss- ible for me to do so. VON PEPPING. (Walking up and doivn.) Hm that all sounds very undecided. Don't be in too much of a hurry at least,- Gerda. 76 THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. GERDA. I shall not forget that yon are my older brother and my natural protector and adviser. I shall not come to any decision without first consulting you. VON PEPPING. (Kisses Tier hand.) That is right, my little Gerda. But, do you know, if I should give you my advice I should say frankly do not consider it at all. GERDA. I should like to hear your reasons. VON PEPPING. First of all, because you would be throwing yourself away. Who is Sickart? Sickart that will not do at all. You are a Pepping, your son is a Dobbelin, and now for you to become the wife of a man without name or standing. GERDA. Ernest, are you as behind the times as that? VON PEPPING. Ah, leave that foolish expression to the dirty democrats. We should be above using it. I am very much opposed to any one marrying beneath him. GERDA. Well, you know Dobbelin belongs to the old nobility and that did not prevent this cavalier from THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 77 making love to my maids and ladies of the kitchen. Any groom could not have behaved worse VON PEPPING. I am not defending him. That was a fatal error. But he was a man belonging to our sphere in life, having the same manners, customs and opinions. That is the foundation stone to a happy married life. GERDA. Really? Why is it then that the men among our friends often stoop to marry a bourgeoise when she pleases them and has money? VON PEPPING. Gerda, be reasonable. That is another affair. A woman, if fairly well brought up and intelligent, acquires very quickly the tone of a different society. A man does not adapt himself so easily. It is much more difficult for him to rid himself of the taint of the soil. And then, too, when we marry a bourgeoise we do not forfeit our name, neither do our children. GERDA. I attach very little value to thai. A Pepping I should remain anyway, and who knows if Mr. Sickart is not of the stuff to be made a Von Sickart. VON PEPPING. Oh, if you are counting on that 78 THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. GERDA. Very much worse people have been raised to the nobility. Sickart is gifted and ambitions. VON PEPPING. That I can perceive. GERDA. He is fitted to be the founder of a family. VON PEPPING. Founders of families, as a rule, are improved by the halo of romance. You may consider yourself fortunate in being a descendant. As to Sickart I am almost tempted to give his character another name. He impresses me as being pushing. GERDA. Oh! VON PEPPING. He has hardly met us when he asks for an in- troduction to the president of the conservative election committee. He has hardly been there two or three times when he asks to be put up as a candidate. He has hardly known you a few weeks when he asks for your hand. That is all downright well, brutally in short pushing. GERDA. I think you generally call that quick decision. Sickart knows immediately what he wants and acts at once. Brutal I would like to know if a cer~ THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 79 tain amount of brutality is not a necessary part of heroism ? VON PEPPING. Bravo! Now you are even making a hero of him. GERDA. No. I am only answering an argument which I do not think will stand probing. VON PEPPING. Gerda, my principal fear is that Sickart is after your money. GERDA. You think it impossible then that a man should fall in love with me. Thanks. VON PEPPING. (Patting her cheek.) You little goose! On the contrary I understand very well why men should lay their hearts at your feet. But just for that reason I think you could make a better choice. GEKDA. A better choice. Don't you understand then, what a fascination it has for a woman to know that she has become the guardian angel of a man, that she is making his path in life easier, that he has no more absorbing ambition than to prove himself worthy of her. Is that not the noblest object a woman could have in life? Is there any- 80 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. thing better than to take some one who loves you by the hand and help them to gain fortune and honor? VON PEPPING. Oh, a sort of mountain-guide role. You are too good for that sort of thing. GERDA. (Pouting.) How can you - PEPPING. No; I will be serious. I see you have only asked me for advice, so that I consent to what you had already made up your mind to do. Evidently no amount of reasoning will influence you. Neither can I command you. I do know, however, that you are wrong to act according to your own judg- ment. We have been so happy since you have kept house for me here, and I am pained to think that you want to leave me again. GEBJDA. Ah, Ernest - VON PEPPING. Forgive me. I am selfish. That is nasty of me. But I was not thinking of myself alone. I was thinking, too, of your son. Are you sure that you are trusting the formation of his character to good hands? It is a great responsibility. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 81 GEKDA. I am aware of it. I believe,, however, that Sick- art will make a good and capable man out of Gotthold. Vo^ PEPPING. Gerda, I am only your brother, therefore you have no need to obey me, but if our parents were alive would you speak to them as you are speaking to me? GERDA. ( Quickly. ) No, quite differently. I would say to them what I cannot say to you : I married the first time according to your wish, you only .thought of the man being of equal birth with myself the name was to you sufficient guarantee for the heart and character. What the result was you can see for yourself. I have been unhappy. Now I shall marry to suit myself, and from another standpoint. A man, and not a name! Worse than the first ex- perience the second cannot be. That is what I should say to our parents. VON PEPPING. I hardly recognize you. This opens a new vista before me. You, our yielding, gentle Gerda, sud- denly to become so decided, so eloquent. I really begin to have some respect for Sickart. There must be something about the man if he can be- 82 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. ; witch you so. ( The servant enters and presents some evening papers on a silver platter. Pepping, taking them, glances over them quickly, while the servant leaves the room.) It is announced that he will make another speech to-morrow at the con- servative meeting. GERDA. You will see what a part he will play yet. VON PEPPING. Maybe. Do promise me one thing, though, Gerda; don't hurry things too much, give yourself time to reflect, and make up your mind clearly about yourself and about him. GERDA. (Gives him her hand.) I promise you. (Curtain falls.) TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. 83 ACT III. (Poorly furnished room. To the left window ivith white curtains. In the background a door with a peephole. To the right a door. Cane chairs, a taUe covered with oil cloth., a cup- board painted yellow, a small rep-covered sofa.) SCENE I. MRS. SlCKART, SHORTLY AFTERWARD LOUISE. ( Mrs. Sickart is sitting at the table peeling potatoes. The bell rings softly at the door in back- ground. Mrs. Sickart lays potatoes and knife on the table and listens. It rings again just as softly. Mrs. Sickart rises and opens the door. Louise enters, simply but neatly dressed with hat, veil, and gloves.) LOUISE. Good-day, Mrs. Eieke. MRS. SICKART. (Plainly disagreeably surprised, returning to her chair, curtly.) Oh, is it yon? 84 TEE SEA GKLES OF FA TE. LOUISE. (Sadly.) It seems to me my coming does not please you. MRS. SICKART. Oh many guests come unbidden. LOUISE. Don't be so unfriendly. I only came to find out how you were. MRS. SICKART. You are kind; but how did you know where to find me? LOUISE. I met your servant on the street and she .told me MRS. SICKART. What did that tongue-wagger tell you? LOUISE. That you had left and where you lived. MRS. SICKART. The wretched busybody! Fritz forbade her to tell. LOUISE. I did not know it was a secret. (Advances shyly toward a chair.) MRS. SICKART. Hm, as long as you are there sit down if you are tired. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 85 LOUISE. Yes, I am a little tired. It is a long way here. (Looking around.) Your home is very simple. MRS. SICKART. (Angrily.) Isn't it good enough for you? LOUISE. ( Conciliating!}/. ) Plenty good enough, Mrs. Rieke, I only meant, now that Fritz has such a beautiful home MRS. SICKART. Kindly leave Mr. Sickart out of the question, he is nothing to you. LOUISE. (Sadly.) Well, if you treat me so, I won't say any more. MRS. SICKART. You won't say any more, but afterward you will go away and will tell tales in G-uben about my son not treating me well. Now understand, he wanted to give me everything of the best. A large dwelling, fine furniture but I would not allow him to. To what end, then? The more rooms, the more work I should have. My bedroom there, (Points to the door to the right.) my kitchen, my sitting-room, those are quite enough for me. I need nothing more. I have everything the heart 86 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. could wish. There, you can go back to Guben and trumpet that around if you feel like it. LOUISE. I am not going back to Guben. MRS. SICKAKT. (Surprised.) Eeally. Then you have left our family? (Louise nods affirmatively.) MRS. SICKART; Have you a place here? LOUISE. No. I am not going out as a servant any longer. MRS. SICKART. No? Then you must have won a pile of money in the lottery? LOUISE. Oh, no. I am going to support myself here as a dressmaker. I can do it. You know what pretty gowns 1 used to make for milady. MRS. SICKART. It seems to me you are trying to rise in the world. Well, for all I care I don't mix in in what does not concern me. But if you think that is so easy to do LOUISE. Where so many manage to get along I think I can also. I shall not leave Berlin. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 87 MRS. SlCKART. (Mockingly. ) Yon are right there. A young girl with a pretty face cannot fail to get along in Berlin. LOUISE. (Springing up.) Mrs. Rieke, how can you say such a thing to me! MRS. SICKART. You needn't fly at my eyes. Since when have you been so unapproachable? We both come from Guben. I know things LOUISE. You should not reproach me wijth that, Mrs. Rieke! MRS. SICKART. (Also springing up.) I shouldn't? Why shouldn't I? Nobody can say anything against me. I was the lawful wife of my late husband and my son was born in honest wedlock. LOUISE. Do not wound me, otherwise MRS. SICKART. Otherwise what ? LOUISE. (Evasively.) You are too hard on me. Even mv aunt and 88 THE SEA CKLES OF FA TK the pastor were not so cruel. Even if one goes astray once that does not make one a bad person at once. Milady forgave me and kept me in her service. MRS. SICKART. (Seating herself.) Yes, milady has a heart like butter; she forgives everything. I think otherwise. I can't forget a thing like that. LOUISE. No? Not even if (Hesitates.) MRS. SICKART. If what? LOUISE. If I tell you MRS. SlCKART. What can you tell me? Don't tell me anything. I am not curious. Besides, why should we quarrel? You go your way, and I will go mine. Berlin is large enough. I did not ask you to come here. LOUISE. (Humbly,) Don't drive me away, Mrs. Kieke. If I cannot see either you or him MRS. SICKART. Him? Who is him? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 89 LOUISE. Fritz. MRS. SICKART. What, again? What have you got to do with him? LOUISE. (Sinks beside her on her knees, grasps her hand, sobbing. ) Ah, it is all his fault! MRS. SICKART. (Draws her hand away hastily, stammers.) What? He how is he to blame? LOUISE. (Hiding her face.) I let myself be talked over. And I do love him so. And the child is his child. MRS. SICKART. (Screams.) It is not true. LOUISE. (Raising herself sadly.) It is true. And Fritz knows it best of all. Ask him, he will not deny it. He would not do that to me. MRS. SICKART. (Wildly.) How can this be? Must I believe such a thing of my Fritz? 90 THE SEA CKLES OF FA TE. LOUISE. (Dreamily.) Yes, when one lives under the same roof, and one has known one another from childhood up, and one sees one another constantly, and one is only a poor, ignorant girl MRS. SICKART. (Softly.) Sit down, Louise. (Pointing to the chair beside the sofa.) I could not have believed it possible. ^ To ruin a poor girl! That was wicked of Fritz. Yes, that was very wicked. LOUISE. No, Mrs. Rieke, no, no. You must not be angry with him! He isn't bad. He he loved me, too, and and a man just doesn't think ahead. I should have been more careful, I only. MRS. SICKAHT. Yes, yes does our lady know? LOUISE. (Quickly.) No, no living soul knows besides himself and myself. MRS. SICKART. Poor Louise! But didn't his heart reproach him on account of the poor little child? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 91 LOUISE. ( Quickly. ) That is just it. As long as he was in Guben everything was all right. He did not let the child lack for anything, saw it frequently in secret and was a good father in every way. I, also, could see Fritz often, if sometimes only at a dis- tance. So I was satisfied, and I did not care much if people did wag their tongues about me. I bore it gladly for his sake and for the child. Only from you did it hurt me. MRS. SICKART. Yes, but how was I to know? LOUISE. Afterward when I was alone in Guben I could bear it no longer. I wrote him that I wanted to come to Berlin. He answered that he would not permit it. I should remain where I was. Bat I could not. For that reason I came to Berlin with my lady. And for that reason I remained here. I don't dare go to him because he has forbidden it, and you know how he is. He must have his own way. Otherwise he is like a thundercloud. If I could at least come to see you. MRS. SICKART. And where did you leave the little boy? 92 THE SEA CKLES OF FA TE. LOUISE. HQW can you ask? I have him with me. MRS. SICKART. And yon leave him all alone in the honse! An eighteen months old child! LOUISE. The people who keep the house are taking care of him. MRS. SICKART. I couldn't be at ease were I in your place. Do you know, when you go out to your work you ought to bring the tot here. LOUISE. (Joyously.) May I? May I really? MRS. SICKART. Certainly. I don't know, however, what Fritz will say when he sees it here. LOUISE. Oh, I know he will be glad to see the dear little thing again. He must miss him. MRS. SICKART. I don't know men are queer they do not feel the same as we do toward a little thing like that. (Short pause.) But, good God, what is to become of all this? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 93 LOUISE. I do not think about it at all. The good God will arrange it according to his will. I only want to be where Fritz is. MBS. SICKART. That does not help at all. I see no way out of it. (Reflects a little.) He must provide for the child, that is certain. As for you, my poor Louise LOUISE. (Quickly.) I ask for nothing. I will earn everything I need, and more. If I am only allowed to love him, I am quite contented. MRS. SICKART. (Shaking her head.) I don't understand that. You can't always stay true to him like this. LOUISE. He is the father of my child. MRS. SICKART. Yes, yes, but you must get the idea out of your head that he will ever make an honest woman of you. LOUISE. Why not? Perhaps later when he sees how true I am to him 94 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SiCKART. Don't imagine such a thing for a moment. (Pityingly.) He has grown too grand for you. LOUISE. He was not too great to love me. MRS. SICKART. Love ah! love stoops down, does not rise above itself, and it lasts about as long as a loaf of bread. LOUISE. Ah, do not rob me of all my courage. He told me when he left Guben that he would never for- sake me. MRS. SICKART. That is the way a man talks. No, Louise, you must give it up. You are only his his, Louise. I am his mother, and yet I cannot have him either. He has grown too great for both of us. I am a featherless old hen who has hatched out a golden pheasant. (Draioing nearer to her sadly.) Do you know, those were fairy tales I was telling you a short time ago. Ah, Louise, I am not happy at all, I am wretched. Here have I been sitting alone for the past three weeks, not knowing one soul. Fritz comes almost every day, but only for a couple of minutes he is always so hurried. And he has his troubles too, so he does not see THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 95 mine. Yes, Louise, just you bring the boy here. It will cheer me up. We are both of us poor, ignorant women, and have always lived with out- siders. Fritz has become a distinguished, culti- vated gentleman, and we don't fit in with him any longer. We are only allowed to love him from a -distance. (The bell rings.) LOUISE. Oh, if it should be he! (Hurries to the peep- hole. Speaking into the room, quickly, softly.) No, it is a lady a very fine one. MRS. SICKART. A lady. She must have come to the wrong door. LOUISE. Shall I go? MRS. SICKART. I cannot think who it is. Well, go into the bed- room for the present. (Louise goes out. Mrs. SicJcart opens the door.) SCENE II. MRS. SICKART, GERDA voi* PEPPIKG. (Gerda enters. She carries a large, "beautiful louquet and a pretty silk lag. At the sight of the 96 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. humble room and of Mrs. Sickart she hesitates, sur- prised. After glancing around the room she says, uncertainly.) GEEDA. Mrs. Sickart? MKS. SICKART. (Bowing.) Yes, I am she. GERDA. (Comes nearer.) I am Mrs. Von Pepping. MRS. SICKART. ( Courtesy ing. ) I beg of yon ( Waves toward the sofa.) GERDA. (Sitting down.) Yon do not know my name? MRS. SICKART. I have not the pleasnre. GERDA. Gerda von Pepping. ( Mrs. Sickart is silent and fingers her apron. ) Perhaps you know me as Mrs. Von Dobbelin? MRS. SICKART. (Shyly.) No, THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 97 GERDA. Then your son has never spoken of me? MRS. SICKART. Ah, why should he speak to me of his business? I wouldn't understand it. GERDA. That is strange of course, if you know nothing about me, my visit will seem strange to you. (Short pause. Mrs. Sickart is silent. ) I am a friend of Mr. Sickart he, he is my lawyer I have always wished to know his mother but he never would bring me to see you so I came by myself. (Stretching out her hand.} I am so pleased to meet you at last. (Mrs. Sickart tries to kiss her hand. Oerda draws it back, frightened.) You have such a good face. Please, Mrs. Sickart, sit down here next to me. (Mrs. Sickart seats herself, hesitat- ingly, on the sofa.) May I oiler you a few flowers? Do accept them from me? MRS. SICKART. (Taking the bouquet, confused.) Thank you such beautiful flowers what a heap of money they must have cost I will put them in water. GERDA. Yes. Do you know that your son looks very much like you? 98 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. People say so. Only he is a good-looking young man, and I am a simple old woman. GERDA. How proud you must be of him! Have you seen this? (Draivs from her lag an illustrated paper and hands it folded to Mrs. Sickart.) MRS. SICKART. Ah why, that is Fritz. And so they are even putting him in the paper. GERDA. And what they say about him about his last speech. MRS. SICKART. (Laying the paper on the table.) Yes, yes. GERDA. No, read it, I beg of you. It will give you pleasure. MRS. SICKART. Yes I my eyes are bad I can't see to read without spectacles. GERDA. Very well, I will leave you the paper. But why do you not live with him? It would be much pleasanter for both of you. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 99 MRS. SlCKART. Yes but it did not work well. I couldn't stand it. Too much noise in Potsdam Street. My head could not bear it. I cannot get accustomed to things. Here it is nice and quiet, as it is in Guben. We come from there you know? GERDA. I know. And so you are all alone here? MRS. SICKART. (Dreamily.) Oh, no, my Fritz comes here all the time. Also Mr. Von Ewes, a very kind-hearted young man, and other people too. I don't need anything. I live very pleasantly here. You must not think that my Fritz does not look after me GERDA. How could I think that? That were sinful. I am convinced he loves his dear little mother with all his heart. MRS. SICKART. (Suppressing a sigh.) Yes, indeed. He is my only child. GERDA. Has he no brothers or sisters? MRS. SICKART. I had a girl, too, but she died when a child. 100 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. GERDA. Poor mother! And have you been a widow for a long time? MRS. SICKART. It is going on four years. GERDA. You have really had a great deal of sorrow in your life. But your Fritz consoles you now for all that. Such a splendid son is a recompense to any mother. (Mrs. Sickart is silent and looks away.) Pray, Mrs. Sickart, tell me something about Fritz. MRS. SICKART. What shall I tell you? I don't know any- thing GERDA. Yes, you do. About his boyhood. (Mrs. Sick- art is silent. ) He must have been hard to control ? He must have given you a great deal of care? MRS. SICKART. Yes, the wild youngster wore out the soles of his stockings so fast that I was always mending. GERDA. He always lived with you? MRS. SICKART. Till he went to the university. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 101 GERDA. Have yon any old photographs of him? MKS. SICKART. Yes, taken at the time he was christened and when he was a year old. He was sweet enough to eat then that - GERDA. (Gently.} Dear, good Mrs. Sickart, could I see the photo- graphs? MRS. SICKART. They are packed away, but I will fetch them. GERDA. On the condition that it will give you no trouble. (Two heavy double knocks are heard on the door in background.) MRS. SICKART. (Joyously.) There is Fritz. (Hurries to the door and opens SCENE III. MRS. SICKART, GERDA, SICKART, SICKART. (Entering quickly.} Good-day, mother. (Perceives -Gerda.) Gerda! 102 -TZOT SHACKLES OF FATE. GERDA. (Smiling.) You are surprised? SICKART. How did you know GERDA. (Rogueishly.) Why, we are not quite so helpless as our clever lawyer imagines. This is the result when one is too mysterious. You were set against my meeting your mother. Don't you understand that this ex- cited my curiosity all the more? SICKART. ( Confused. ) Why did you not have confidence in me? it was not right in you. GERDA. (Laying "her hand on liis arm.) But I was right. You were the one who had no confidence. You have a sweet little mother who is devoted to you. You should have let me meet her long ago, you arrogant individual, you. (To Mrs. Siclcart.) Good-by. Now that we know one another I hope you will come to see me. And very soon, won't you ? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 103 MRS. SlCKART. (Looking embarrassedly at her son.) If he if you permit SlCKART. May I accompany yon ? GERDA. No, no. My carriage is waiting on the corner, and I will see you later, at the usual hour. Stay here, I beg of you. I will not take you away from your little mother for a minute even. She sees so little of you. (Gives Sickart her hand, which he kisses; then following a sudden impulse puts her arm around Mrs. Sickart and kisses her, then goes quickly out.) SCENE IV. MRS. SICKART, SICKART, SICKART. (Stares after Gerda; then turning sharply to his mother who stands there, taken aback, hastily.) Has she been here long? MRS. SICKART. No. A quarter of an hour or so. SICKART. What did she say? What did she ask? What did she talk about? 104 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Nothing in particular. The way one usually talks along. SICKART. Yet MRS. SICKART. I really don't remember I was so bewildered SICKART. Did she did she tell you who she was? MRS. SICKART. She told me her name Mrs. Von I don't know what I did not pay much attention. SICKART. Her name nothing besides that? MRS. SICKART. What should she tell me besides? SICKART. Did she not tell you (He walks up and down a few times, then resolutely.) Mother, the lady is my betrothed. MRS. SICKART. (Starting.) Eh! (Grasps him by the hand and leads him hastily to the left, near the window > in a low voice.) Your your betrothed? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 105 SlCKAET. ( Who has followed her, astonished, in an uncon- sciously lowered voice.) What is the matter? MRS. SICKABT. (Softly, but excitedly.) And you didn't tell ine? SICKART. (Louder.) I would have told you naturally on the day of the first public announcement. (Bitterly.) You will understand that before I brought you two to- gether I wished the affair irrevocably settled. MRS. SICKART. (Seating herself, dully.) I can't get it into my head. How could you SICKART. What do you mean? I never had any intention of remaining a bachelor. MRS. SICKART. Have you so little conscience then SICKART. (Surprised.) Conscience? What do you mean? Am I doing you any injustice thereby? 106 THE 8HA CKLES OF FA TE. MRS. SlCKART. Oh me no; I have nothing to say. (Evas- ively.} But she is such an aristocratic, high- born lady. SICKART. Do you think she is too aristocratic for me? MRS. SICKART. Of course you have become a very fine gentler man also. But you were not born of gentle blood, and like and like pair best together. SICKART. Eeally? In that case I should marry a cook. MRS. SICKART. You might do worse. The lady isn't ashamed of you, and you have no need to be ashamed for your mother before her. SICKART. Bah! don't let us begin again. We shall never understand each other on this point. MRS. SICKART. And then isn't she too old for you? SICKART. What an idea! Do you not think she is beauti- ful? - THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 107 MRS. SlCKART. You understand that better than I. And she is a married woman, she says. SICKART. Yes. MRS. SICKART. A widow? SICKART. (Hesitatingly.) No. MRS. SICKART. (Wonderingly.) No? Then how arn I to understand? SICKART. She is divorced. MRS. SICKART. It only needed that! SICKART. (Quickly.) She was not to blame. She was married to a thoroughly bad man. MRS. SICKART. Are there children? SICKART. One dear little boy. 108 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Yon are fond of a strange child, and Eritz, Fritz, I don't understand you. Why is all this necessary, you are young yet? SICKART. I am six and twenty, just the right age to marry. And I could not do better than this, waited I ever so long. I have not yet told you that Gerda is very rich. MRS. SICKART. Ah, money does not make happiness. You know our proverb: Those who marry for money the devil has mated. SICKART. (Roughly.) I am not marrying for money, but even if I were, it would be no disadvantage. MRS. SICKART. (Shaking her head.) I don't know better earn money than marry it. SICKART. Earn it! Naturally I shall do that too. But that takes time. And until then Gerda's dot will be very acceptable. You should only have seen how differently everybody regarded me in my political party as soon as I showed I had money. As long as the gentlemen of the convention had to THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 109 dip in their own pockets they hesitated, were not quite sure: I was too young, I was a stranger to the party. When I said to them: My dear sirs, I will incur all expenses myself, then they veered around like weathercocks. And since then every- thing has rolled along as though on wheels. And what did the whole business cost? Twelve thou- sand marks. MRS. SICKART. Twelve thousand marks! SICKART. A mere nothing if one has it, but I should never have been able to get it. MRS. SICKART. And your betrothed gave it to you? SICKART. Gave it to me. What are you thinking about? She does not need to give me anything. I am taking care of her property which will soon be "our" property. MRS. SICKART. (Frightened. ) But her property isn't yours. SICKART. (Lightly.) Just as good as mine. I have the control of it. , 110 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Then yon are sold, Fritz, yon have sold yonrself . ( Wrings her hands.) SICKART. What is the matter with yon? Instead of being glad for my sake MRS. SICKART. No, no, there will no good come of it. And if this marriage should fall throngh, how are you to pay this blood money back? SICKART. It wonld be difficult for me to manage it. How- ever, fortunately, I shall not have to do it. (The doorbell rings.) MRS. SICKART. Now, who can that be? (Opens the door.) SCENE V. MRS. SICKART, SICKART, VOK EWES. EWES. (Gives his hand first to Mrs. SicTcart, then to Sickart.) How are yon, Mrs. Sickart. Happy as nsnal? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. HI MRS. SlCKART. Bah, happy! Why should I be? VON EWES. Why, what is the matter? MRS. SICKART. Every one has his cross to bear. VON EWES. Oh, things are not as bad as that. MRS. SICKART. A young man like you can well say that, but we others VON EWES. Well, just pour out your woes. What is the trouble? MRS. SICKART. Let it drop, sir. (Sighs deeply.) VON EWES. (To Si chart.) Is anything the matter between you? SICKART. Why should you think so? VON EWES. Oh, I thought perhaps (Drawing a little cornucopia from his pocket, to Mrs. Sickart.) Will you accept this? 113 THE 8HA CKLES OF FA TE. MRS. SlCKART. (Opens the cornucopia and takes out two apples which she lays on the table.) Oh, what beautiful apples! They don't grow in this country? VON EWES. They came from Italy. MRS. SICKART. What a good fellow you are! (Giving Mm her hand.) To take so much trouble for a poor, old woman. VON EWES. I am quite in love with you. I really mean it, Mrs. Sickart. MRS. SICKART. May God grant you always your light heart. EWES. (To Sickart.) I counted on seeing you here. SICKART. Is anything the matter? _ VON EWES. Yes. I must tell you something later. We can go together. THE SHA CKLES OF FA TE. 113 MRS. SlCKART. If the gentlemen have something to discuss - (Approaches the door to the right.) EWES. Are you going to run away from me, when I came to see you? MRS. SICKART. Well, we have seen each other, and you brought me that fine fruit. I thank you again with all my heart. (Gives him her hand, which he shakes heartily. Goes out to the left.) SCENE VI. SICKART, VON EWES. SICKART. Well? VON EWES. (Looks at him silently a moment, then draws a newspaper from his pocket. ) Have you seen this already? SICKART. ( Opens the paper, glances at it, and utters a cry of anger. ) What! (Reads hastily, muttering between times, 114 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. and grinding his teeth.) This is despicable, despicable! ( When he has finished reading, Tie crushes the paper in his hand furiously and throws it on the ground. Sitting doivn, he drops his head on his arms.} Vo^r EWES. (Laying his hand on his shoulder.) Hold your head high, Sickart. SICKART. (Picks the paper up again, smooths it out, reads.) The candidate who is seeking to gain onr votes offers through his origin a sure guarantee that he will perform his duties as responsible servant of the public good well. He has won for himself as coachman the full approval of his employers. His mother has grown gray in service in the kitchen. He is apparently so unusually modest that he not only does not boast of his parentage but also, lately, hides his mother, who is known to have accom- panied him to Berlin, from all eyes. (Balls the paper up again, springs to his feet, walks up and down several times in great excitement. Then remains standing before Von Ewes.) But what does this mean? Where do you get this trashy sheet? Votf EWES. We all received one at the office about a quarter THE SHACKLES OF FATE. H5 of an hour ago. It has also been sent without doubt to all your supporters. SICKAKT. But who, who is the rascally author of this? It cannot be my Socialist rival. He is too decent. YOST EWES. And he would surely not have chosen just this to say. Strange that you do not suspect the culprit at once. Of course it is Dobbelin. SICKART. Dobbelin! Why of course. (Grinding Ms teeth.) The cur. Just wait. I will get even with him. But what ought to be done just now? Cut his ears off challenge him VON EWES. Keep your wits about you, my friend. I doubt if any court of honor would give you the right to demand satisfaction on the ground of this. Of course one can always have a duel if one wants to fasten the blame, but I fail to see how it would help you any. SICKART. I must get under way at once, and call a meeting for this evening. Perhaps I can ward off this murderous blow. Only two days before election! Almost at the goal. Ah, one cannot avoid one's 116 THE 8HA CKLES OF FA TE. fate. (Short pause.) But how did the rascal find out all this? VON EWES. He probably used the same means which you put into practice against him. The world is so small, my poor Sickart. Just as I knew it, just as everybody in your regiment knew it, so others could find it out too. Your mysteriousness was childish. SICKART. So? Mysteriousness! Childish! Is that what you call my desperate efforts to rid myself of my shackles? VON EWES. Shackles, what shackles? SICKART. (Vehemently.) The shackles, man, that I am dragging after me. The shackles of my birth. VON EWES. Come Sickart, sit down and let me talk to you sensibly. I have been watching you for months, and I have observed how you drag one leg after you as though you had some heavy weight attached to it. Believe me, you carry no shackles; they exist only in your imagination. SICKART. You think so; you really think so. Hans Erd- THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 117 mann, Baron Von Ewes, of Diephof and Langen- ried. Yon can look on your honored family with pride. Yon have every reason to. Your father, justice of the supreme court; grandfather, formerly his excellence, the minister in power; your uncle, his excellence, the lieutenant-general; your uncle on the maternal side, his excellence, president of the council. Now what do you know of the feelings of the freedman, the son of a slave? Voisr EWES. 'Pon my word you are more feudal than we knights. I do not look at it that way at all. SICKA.KT. You, perhaps not, as you are a knight from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet. But others just look around you in my party - EWES. Strange, that you with your views should have attached yourself to the Conservative party. Do you really believe that among the best of us in any country there is much that is worth preserving? SICKAKT. There again you cannot enter into the feelings of a man who has only himself to rely on. Arrange some great revolution for me, you would immedi- ately see me become a Jacobin, because as a Jacobin I could become anything I wished to, for it would 118 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. only mean rising more quickly than others. But in our iron-bound society would the Socialists help me at all? I must bow to existing conditions as long as I cannot change them. And this with us means necessarily entering my party, if one wishes to make anything of oneself on this terres- trial sphere. VON EWES. Well argued, as usual. But do you know you should have begun the thing differently. You desired to play a political role, plunge into party struggles. You should have told yourself that nothing, absolutely nothing about your life could remain concealed. You should have been prepared to have high lights and critical opera glasses directed on you. You see imaginary obstacles in your way and you try to hide them. That renders you uncertain of yourself and gives others power over you. Shackles, you say. If you were clever you would have made a glory of them. (Goes up to Sickart and lays his hand on his shoiilder.) I like your strength and your persistency. But there is one thing about you angers me. SICKAKT. (Dully.) What? VON EWES. You have much individuality much, but not THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 119 enough. You should be proud of everything about you, even your birth. This you have never been brave enough to do, but you must learn to do it. Now, for example, you are ashamed of your mother, and you repudiate her. SICKART. (Flaring up.} How can you say that? Voisr EWES. (Meaningly.) Just look around you. SICKART. She is happier here than she would be among people who intimidate her. i* EWES. Excuses, Sickart. You are ashamed of her, and that is a great mistake. She does in fact shackle you through your own fault. You should make a boast of her and point with pride to what she had been and to what she had made of you. In that case she would be, figuratively speaking, a flower in your buttonhole; now she is a weapon in the hands of your enemies, where she might have been your armor of defense. And you did not need great wit to have seen this. A little heart would have sufficed. 120 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKAET. (Sinking his head.) Even if you were right, how does it help me ' now? The mistake has been made. Vo^r EWES. Eectify it. You have plenty of time. Make this scurrilous newspaper feel small by saying: It is all quite true, but I am proud of it, SICKART. I am not so sure of the effect as you. And what Gerda von Pepping will say to all this for of course they will hear it, VOK EWES. Without doubt, I will hope for your sake that she sees in your game of hide and seek only a mis- taken tactic, not a transgression against the lioliest commandment. Are you coming? SICKART. No. I must speak to my mother first. VOK EWES. Sickart, don't visit this on your mother. SICKART. Ewes! VOK EWES. Do not be angry. I am speaking to you as a friend, (Presses Ms hand. Exeunt.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 121 SCENE VII. SlCKART, MRS. SlCKART, LOUISE. SlCKART. (Opens the door on left and springs back.) You here. MRS. SICKART. (Enters the room, drawing Louise after her. The former looks very pale and has red eyes as from crying. ) SICKART. (Angrily.) You were here in my mother's room, and you have been listening? MRS. SICKART. You can say " thou " to her. I know how things stand. Fritz, Fritz, what have you done? SICKART. Mother, do not interfere in such things. It is not proper for you. (To Louise.) And you, did I not command you to stay in Guben And yet you dared ! Away with you. I wish nothing more to do with you. MRS. SICKART. You stay here, Louise. Let her be. She is a good girl, and you have treated^her very badly. 122 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Looking at both in turn.) This is a pleasant surprise. Any more com- plaints? LOUISE. (Pleadingly.) Fritz, you won't do it you won't marry that woman? STCKART. (Wildly.) Really? Who is going to prevent me? MRS. SICKART. Your conscience. And if I may tell you some- thing SICKART. You may tell me nothing. MRS. SICKART. Fritz, I am your mother. SICKART. Yon do not need to remind me of it. Others do it enough as it is. (Slapping his coat pocket.) Mrs. Von Olderode writes me six pages of bitter reproaches. She will have nothing more to do with me. She would not have believed this of me. All because you no longer live with me. (Dr diving the crumpled newspaper from Ms pocket and strik- ing it furiously with the palm of his hand.) A THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 123 paragraph here throws it in my teeth that my mother was a cook. My election will probably fall through on account of it. You see it is not likely I shall forget you are my mother. I find you wherever I go. And now you appear with that person! LOUISE. (Sols loudly and staggers to a chair.) MRS. SlCKART. Don't be a brute. She is your child's mother. SICKART. (To Louise.) Ah! so you have poured out your woes com- pletely. Get out of here, I tell you, or I shall do you some harm. MRS. SICKART. That would be a noble deed to harm a poor girl. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you culti- vated gentleman! SICKART. Mother, don't madden me. Otherwise other- wise I shall lose all mastery over myself. (To Louise.) I ask you again, what do you want of me? LOUISE. (Falls on her knees before him, sotting.) Do not forsake me and the little one. 124 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SICKART. (Raising her.} Louise, don't kneel. No one should kneel to any mortal. Have you the heart to ill treat her? SICKART. "What am I doing to her! Do I owe her any- thing? Have 1 ever promised her anything? Louise, for the last time, what do you want? LOUISE. That I may love you. SICKART. No one can forbid you to do that. LOUISE. But if you marry her SICKART. Well? LOUISE, Fritz, I shall drown myself. SICKART. This is too much. Have you ever imagined I would marry you? LOUISE. I don't ask for that. Only let things stay as they are. SICKART. I shall not waste my life on your account. Now listen : Of course you can annoy me and stand in THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 125 my way. But you will not help yourself thereby. If you are obstinate all is over between us; if you are sensible,, however, it will be to your advantage. I will provide for you and the child. LOUISE. I can't live if I am not to see you any more. SICKAKT. You know the way to my mother now. You can continue to visit her. MRS. SICKART. As what? SlCKART. As what she is at present. MRS. SICKART. She came to-day to wail and to pray because she was forsaken, and because she could stand it no longer alone. But if you don't mean honestly by her you can't ask your old mother to become a cloak for your love affairs. SICKART. Mother! MRS. SICKART. I mean just what I say. Fll not consent to be party to any such arrangement. Tell me now, are you willing to give up your betrothed? 126 THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. SlCKART. Mother, don't drive me to extremes. You know, I cannot do it. Yon know what depends on it. If you are trying to drag us all down together, I shall call the devil to my aid. MRS. SICKART. ( Wringing her hands. ) Yes, yes, I know you have got yourself into a nice mess. But something will turn up to help you out of it. Only behave as an honest man should about Louise and the child. Then God will surely come to your aid. SICKART. (In wild anger.) Am I to stay here listening to this child's talk when everything depends on immediate action? Must every low thing in my past be dragged for- ward again? Shall I never be able to work my way out of the slime? Are two crazy women to hang a millstone about my neck? If you force me to it I shall leave the country and go, Heaven knows where to America possibly. There you can't drown me in mud. Prom now on I have nothing more to do with you, I know you no longer. (Rushes out in wild anger.} THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 127 SCENE VIII. MRS. SICKART, LOUISE. (Mrs. Sickart and Louise look at one another for a moment in silence.) MRS. SICKART. (Unsteadily.) Louise, come to me. (Louise throws herself into her arms, sotting wildly.) I have lost my son. Bring me your boy now. LOUISE. Oh, my God! what have I done? He has gone. I have torn him away from his mother! MRS, SICKART. Yon did not do it, poor child, it was so before. God forgive him for it! He will regret it ere long. He isn't harming me, only himself, poor boy. I need nobody, I am not helpless, and I can work. It is no hardship for me, and no disgrace, either. I can always find some place where my ten fingers will support me. It must not be in Guben, either; if that is of disadvantage to him I can go somewhere else. LOUISE. And I? May I go too? I should like to stay with you always, of course. Ah, he is the exact image of you. 128 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Do you love him still after he has treated yon so? LOUISE. (Sobbing.) More than my life. And we should not have let him go away so. He wanted to be kind at first. He had even given me permission to see him again. MRS. SICKART. (Clasping her hands together.) Louise! You would have been content with that? LOUISE. (Passionately.) With anything, as long as I did not quite lose him. (Screams.) Ah! see here he is again! SCENE IX. MRS. SICKART, LOUISE, SICKART. (Enters through door in the background. Goes slowly totuard his mother. Louise's first impulse is to hasten toward him, but draws back, frightened by his frowning look.) SICKART. (To his mother.) Mother, forgive me. I was beyond myself. (Takes her hand and bends forward to kiss her.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 129 MRS. SlCKART. (TJiroiving herself on Ms neck.) Never mind I knew it. You are not bad, Fritz; you are my child, after all. (She embraces him for a moment.) SICK ART. (Freeing himself.) You two maddened me, and I you. We were all crazy. Now let us be sensible. (Gently.) Louise, you have been patient for a year and a half. Continue to be so. Do not ask me the why and wherefore. Let me arrange things, and you await developments. You shall not have cause to regret it. LOUISE. Ah, Fritz, when you speak to me so you can do with me as you will. (Kisses his hand.) (Curtain falls.) 130 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. ACT IV. (Same stage setting as in Act II.) SCENE I. GERDA, VON PEPPING. GERDA. (Is discovered sitting on the sofa, a book in her hand. ) VON PEPPING. (Enters. Shortly. ) Good-day, Gerda. (Draws off his gloves and thro'ws them on the table.) GERDA. Good-day, Ernest. Anything new? VON PEPPING. (Absently.) I don't know. Has the seamstress arrived? GERDA. What seamstress? VON PEPPING. (Impatiently.) The one told to come. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 131 ' GERDA. Not yet. (Pepping ivalks up and down.) How irritated yon are again! Was the princess in a bad humor? VON PEPPING. (Remaining in front of her.) The princess? No. It is you who are troubling me." GERDA. I? VON PEPPING. Yes, you, with your blind infatuation. GERDA. (Pleadingly.) Ernest, you promised me VON PEPPIKG. Yes, I did. But I cannot help speaking. The more I hear about him, the more plainly I perceive the abyss on whose brink you stand. GERDA. (Smiling.) How tragic! VON PEPPING. You laugh! Now listen: My supposition was correct Sickart possesses not one cent's worth of property. 132 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. GERDA. (Quietly.) We knew that before. VON PEPPING. He also does not owe a cent. GERDA. This is the first time you have said anything nice about him. VON PEPPING. And this is only relative; if he himself pos- sesses nothing and has also borrowed nothing, where did he get the money to pay the expenses of the election? GERDA. That is not our affair. VON PEPPING. It is very much ours. I am afraid he has dipped into your property. GERDA. Shame! VON PEPPING. I say so, too. We must find out about this. I shall ask him point blank. It is painful, but it must be done. GERDA. (After a short pause.) No. Don't do it. After all, even if it were so, he did it with good intentions. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 133 VON PEPPING. What! Yon just now cried " Shame!" and now you are justifying him. GEKDA. "Well, what then? I was confused a moment ago; but when I think it over I find it only right that I should share the expense. If he had become member, then I should have had a part in the honor. VON PEPPING. I do not understand such consideration. GERDA. I do not understand your enmity. VON PEPPING. Enmity! There you do your lawyer Sickart too much honor. I am perfectly indifferent to him. I am thinking only of you, and it pains me to see how a common man GERDA. You cannot yet forgive him his birth? VON PEPPING. I was not thinking of that just now. I was thinking of his personality. GERDA. How can you be so unjust? Was it not touch- 134 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. ing, was it not noble, the way he came with that scurrilous article and showed it to me himself? VON PEPPING. When we had already received it four hours be- fore through the mail. GERDA. How should he have known that? VON PEPPING. Are you as childish as that? GERDA. You can call it childish, if you like. I found it very manly that he should come and say to me: "It is true; it is just as it is written here. And if you see any crime in it, so judge me alone. " VON PEPPING. Permit me to say that he should have told you all this when he ventured to ask for your hand. To confess a thing after it lies before you in print, that is nothing great. GERDA. He explained that to me. He said he had feared it would influence me against him from the beginning as he expressed it, cast a damper on our friendship. After I had seen more of him without being first prejudiced against him, after I had learned to know him well, he had intended to tell ine all. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 135 VON PEPPING. (Walking up and down.) Well played. There is nothing to be said against his skill. But how does he explain the fact that he is ashamed of his mother, that he sends her away from him GERDA. (Quickly.) It was her wish. VON PEPPING. Do you believe that? GERDA. She told me so herself. VON PEPPING. That shows high-mindedness on the woman's part. He should not have consented, however. That one fact were in itself enough to prove that our friend Sickart was secretly anything but proud of his origin. However, do not let us discuss this subject further. At present I am anxious about your money. GERDA. Ernest, I beg of you. It is the first time I have ever known it necessary to defend any absent person against you. (Pepping turns his back on her, irritated.) Do you know, I am rather thank- ful than otherwise to you for your suspicions. It |36 THE SHA CKLES OF FA TE. gives me the key to a certain mystery about Fritz Sickart's behavior lately. VON PEPPING. (Turning to her again.) Really? GERDA. Yes. He has been quite different for the last few days. He is reserved and forced in manner. He tries to appear the same as he was before, but it does not ring true. A woman is not easily de- ceived in such matters. I did not know whether it was the depression caused by his defeat as can- didate or whether he loved me no longer. Now everything is clear to me. It is probably as you .suspect, and he is evidently worried about it. VON PEPPING. Well? And you can permit for even one more second that he GERDA. How hard-hearted you men can be. I know on whose account he was ambitious and for whom he sacrificed everything. VON PEPPING. Sacrificed everything! That is a favorable light to view it in. GERDA. I see that my duty is plainly mapped out for me. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 137 I shall tell him to be of good courage, for I under- stand his motives thoroughly. VON PEPPING. You cannot mean that! GERDA. But I do. When everything seems to be turn- ing against him, he shall at least not be disap- pointed in me. SCENE II. GERDA, VON PEPPING, LOUISE, A MAID. MAID. (Opening door in background.) Milady, the seamstress is here. VON PEPPING. Ah! GERDA. Very good. Tell her all that is necessary. VON PEPPING. Let her come in. (To Gerda.) Do you not wish to see her? GERDA, Why, yes, I can, I suppose. 138 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. LOUISE. ( Comes in shyly. The maid remains standing at the door.) VON PEPPING. (Approaching Louise and looking at her through his monocle.) You are Miss Wahbe? LOUISE. (Embarrassed.) Yes, sir. VON PEPPING. Louise Wahbe? LOUISE. Yes, sir. (Shyly.) Milady I have come to do the work GERDA. Yes, I know. Can you cut and fit? LOUISE. Certainly, milady. GERDA. You are to make some gowns and coats for some charitable institutions. If I am satisfied with you, you shall do some of my own work after Christmas. You can begin to-morrow morning. (To the maid.) You will show Miss Wahbe what she is to do. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 139 MAID. Very good, milady. (Exit with Louise.) VON PEPPING. Why do you not let her begin at once? GERDA. But it is already evening. VON PEPPING, A poor sewing woman must count every hour, She can earn enough anyway, to pay her car fare here this evening. GERDA. You are right. (Rings. To the maid who enters. ) The seamstress can remain and begin the work at once. MAID. Very good, milady. (Exit.) SCENE III. VON PEPPING, GERDA. GERDA. (Shaking her finger laughingly.) One might almost believe you were interested in the little seamstress. 140 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. Nonsense. This is the first time I have ever seen the person in my life. But I told yon she had been very highly recommended to us. GERDA. (Still smiling.} So highly, indeed, that the chamberlain even sent his own servant to bring her here. PEPPING. I repeat, this is the first time I have ever seen her. That will satisfy you, will it not? (Steps up to her, with sudden resolution.) Now, listen to me, Gerda. GERDA. (Looks at him wonder ingly.) VON PEPPING. I was perfectly aware that what I have told you about him would not make you give him up. As even this blow has no effect on you - GERDA. I beg of you, do not let us discuss this subject again. VON PEPPING. I am only doing my duty as your brother and nearest friend. I would much rather not be forced to do it, but I must now play my last card. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 141 GERDA. (Rises and turns to leave the room.) VON PEPPING. No, stay/I beg of you. Only a minute more. Be quite honest with yourself. What interests you mostly in him is the fact, I believe, that you are persuaded he loves you. Is this not so? GERDA. Yes. Now what? VON PEPPING. If I assure you now that he does not love you? GERDA. (Decidedly.) I would not believe it. VON PEPPING. If I prove it to you? GERDA. Can you lay bare his heart before my eyes? VON PEPPING. It is not a question of lyric tenor solos, but quite prosaic facts. I must inform you that Sickart is deceiving you. GERDA. (Exclaiming loudly.) Ernest! 142 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. He had a " liaison" in Guben - GERDA. (Interrupting him.) Ah, Ernest, I beg of yon, spare me snch stories. I am no child. Fritz Sickart is six-and-twenty, and has been at college. He has probably amnsed himself as you men all do. It is useless for ns to complain of it, but, at least, I do not need to know about it. VON PEPPING. You are wonderfully considerate. He had an affair with a servant, I tell you - GERDA. (Pleadingly. ) I beg of you, no more. It does not concern me at all. Besides I know aristocratic married people who are also irresistibly attracted by the servant class. You know them too. PEPPING. Now really! The very thing you punished Dob- belin so severely for you will pardon in Sickart. GERDA. Circumstances alter cases. Sickart did not know me at that time. VON PEPPING. Unfortunately I have not finished. The affair is still being carried on. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 143 GERDA. (Starting back.) It cannot be possible. VOK PEPPIKG. It is the full truth. He had the person follow him here from Guben. He hired a room for her. He sees her often, and even has meetings with her at his mother's. GERDA. (Staring at Mm horrified, murmurs.) I do not believe it. At his mother's! The woman would not countenance such low, horrid things. Pah! I have seen his mother, and I can- not think it possible, Ernest. It is a libel. PEPPIKG. Is it really? Very well, then, you shall con- vince yourself of the contrary. (Looking at his watch.) It is about the hour that he usually pays his respects to you. I will corner him. He must confess. I have arranged everything so that he cannot deny it. GERDA. For God's sake, no scene, I entreat you. I could not stand it. VOK PEPPIKG. You can rest assured that it is painful for me also; but it cannot be avoided. How am I to open 144 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. your eyes otherwise? I lay all accusations before you, and you only answer, " It is not true." GERDA. Write him but do not let there be a scene. VON PEPPING. Write him! He would only deny everything point blank you can be assured of that. He must be taken by surprise in your presence. It is the only way. You must see with your own eyes GERDA. But not here, I beg of you. VON PEPPING. Am I to lay in wait for him with you and seize him at the house-door when he is creeping to see his lady love and the child GERDA. (Exclaims loudly.) A child! VON PEPPING. A child. Yes, indeed. I had to tell you every- thing. GERDA. No, I will not and cannot believe it. Where did you discover all this? (Servant enters and brings lighted lamps. Pep- ping and Gerda are silent till he has left the drawing-room.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. Where? That is unimportant. GERDA. Certainly not. I must know, for I suspect this is another stab in the back from some enemy, as it was in the case of the paragraph. VON PEPPING. Did the paragraph not tell the truth? GERDA. Ernest, I must know where you heard this! VON PEPPING. ( Walks up and down once, then remains standing before Gerda, tivirling his mustache.) Well, then, I heard it from Dobbelin. GERDA. (Screams.) Ah! I knew it! VON PEPPING. Yes? Well, what of it? GERDA. And you believe him you can actually believe him! VON PEPPING. He proves all his statements. GERDA. Ernest, you will drive me wild!^ You think me 14:6 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. blinded., and yet you you can't see that he is try- ing to revenge himself on Fritz, on all of us. It is certain, quite certain, that he has invented all these tales. Very likely he has bribed witnesses what do I know? PEPPING. (Earnestly.) I am no admirer of Dobbelin. You know best of any who alone has prevented us breaking each other's necks. But you are wrong to forget that Dobbelin is a man of honor. GERDA. When his thirst for revenge comes into play - VON PEPPING. It is not only a thirst for revenge which actuates him at present. He has spoken to his aunt she is, as you know, the mediator between us; he has spoken very freely on the subject to her. Of course, he wants to injure Sickart where he can. But he is also actuated by his feelings as father. His son bears the name of Dobbelin. He does not wish that a low-minded man should become the household companion of his son, and serve as an example to him, and that would, of course, be un- avoidable. GERDA. No good can come to us from that direction. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 147 VON PEPPING. Facts are facts, no matter where we learn them. Dobbelin has taken the trouble, and has spared no expense thereby, to place detectives on Attorney Sickart's track. We have learned the result; it is now our affair to put it to some use. GERDA. Detectives! As though it mattered to them what sort of lies they invent if it please their employer! SCENE IV. GERDA, VON PEPPING, SERVANT, SICKART. SERVANT. (Opening door in background.) Attorney Sickart! SICKART. t (Enters smilingly, goes quickly up to Gerda and tries to kiss her hand. She draws it back with an uncontrollable movement of fear. Sickart draws himself up, taken aback, and looks first at Gerda, then at Von Pepping, who looks him straight in the eye.) What what has happened? VON PEPPING. Cannot you really suspect? 148 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. No. Perhaps another rascally attack from a well-known direction - Vox PEPPING. Pray forego such strong language. j SICKART. Gerda, have you anything against me? (She turns her head away, silently.) But, for God's sake, speak, so I can at least answer, defend my- self. What have I done? VON PEPPING. As you insist upon knowing, you shall be told. Is the name of Louise Wahbe familiar to you? GERDA. (Exclaims.) Louise Wahbe why that is VON PEPPING. Sh! (To Sickart, who has started violently.) Well? Do you recognize the name? SICKART. (Struggling for composure.) And if if this name is familiar to me what then? VON PEPPING. (Sharply.) I should think you would see it is useless to play this farce out any longer. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 149 SlCKART. (Wlio has gained control of himself.) Mr. Von Pepping, I must ask of you not to speak to me in riddles. VON PEPPING. Yet you possess the key to their solution. SICKART. (Now quite at his ease.) I must again insist on your making clear to me what you mean by this name? VON PEPPING. This is too much. I wish, then, to state the fact that the person whose name I have mentioned is your mistress. SICKART. Ah! VON PEPPING. That you are having an affair with her. SICKART. An affair! VON PEPPING. At the same time that you dare to raise your eyes to my sister. SICKART. (Between his teeth.) Who makes this statement, Mr. Von Pepping? 150 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. Is it true or not? SICKART. (Louder.) Who makes this statement, Mr. Von Pepping? VON PEPPING. That cannot matter to you. SICKART. (Giving way to his anger.) Yes, but it does matter to me, for I declare it an unfounded wicked slander. GERDA. You see, Ernest. SICKART. (Rushing to Gerda, tending low over her, much moved.) Gerda, do not believe it. Do not let them deceive you about me. It is not true. At least only a small part of it is. Some one has managed again with the skill of a devil to make a mountain of a molehill. This was only a stupid, harmless affair (Gerda moves quickly.) Well, not quite harmless, if you like, but not so bad, not so low. Yes, years ago, in the folly of youth I was guilty. (Draining himself up and looking at Pepping.) He who is free from sin let him throw the first stone. (Turning to Gerda again.) But it all THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 151 happened in the past. I have not sinned against you. ( Von Pepping shrugs Ms shoulders and goes quietly out to the right.) And I should have con- fessed this also to you, Gerda. I have had it on the tip of the tongue many times, but you detest this sort of thing so greatly I did not dare (Seizes her hand and covers it with passionate kisses.) SCENE V. GERDA, SICKAKT, VON PEPPING, LOUISE. ( Von Pepping has entered through right hand door during these last words and beckons to some one to enter. Louise entering hesitatingly, per- ceiving Sickart almost at Gerda' s feet, and kissing her hand passionately, utters a low cry and falls lack against the wall, pressingherhandtoherheart. Sickart starts lack at the sound of Louise's cry and stares at her as at a ghost, while Gerda grasps the arm of the sofa tightly.) VON PEPPING. Do you know this gentleman, miss? LOUISE. (Looking helplessly at Sickart, in great confusion, stammers.) Yes, of course we are he is my fellow country- man. 152 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. Oh. only your fellow countryman. Nothing more? LOUISE. (Looks at one after the other of those present.) What do you really want of me? What have I done to you? I was promised work here and you have led me into a trap instead. (Bursting into tears.) People like you deceive a poor girl shame on you! (Tries to go out.) PEPPING. (Intercepting her, threateningly.) How dare this person - SICKART. (Shaking off his trance, and springing to Louise's side, threateningly. ) Mr. Von Pepping, you forget yourself. VON PEPPING. Ah! you wish to play the part of this lady's knight. SICKART. I will not permit that you ill treat her. Go, .Louise, this is no place for you. I am coming, Aoo. (Louise staggers out.) The girl spoke Tightly. Shame on you! THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 153 VON PEPPING. (Icily.) That you sprang to aid the person was for once a good impulse on your part, Mr. Attorney Sickart. As for your cry of shame - GERDA. ( Wlio has remained sitting as though paralyzed, rises and moves unsteadily toward the left-hand door.) SICKART. (Hastening after her.) No matter what happens I cannot let you think badly of me. Gerda, I am the victim of a plot. Appearances are against me. If you will only let me explain to you - PEPPING. (Grasps his arm.) You will kindly not trouble the baroness further. SICKAKT. (Turns furiously on him, as though to grab him by the throat.) Mr. Von Pepping, your turn comes next! GERDA. (Wlio has reached the door, turns quickly, and grasps Von Pepping* s hand, entreatingly.) Come, Ernest! 154 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. Go, Gerda; leave us alone. GERDA. No violence, I entreat you! VON PEPPING. Go, Gerda; fear nothing. (Leads her to door to the left. Exit Gerda.) SCENE VII. VON PEPPING, SICKABT. SICKART. (Approaching Pepping, quivering with anger.) Mr. Von Pepping, I am no longer forced to spare in you my future brother-in-law. VON PEPPING. Quite true. SICKART. It is now man against man. And you owe me satisfaction for the enmity which you have shown me since I first set foot in this house. VON PEPPING. ( Calmly and. quietly. ) I owe you nothing. SICKART. I demand satisfaction from you. TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. 155 VON PEPPING. (Absently.) If you were a little more familiar with the rules you would know that you have, in the first place, no right to speak of satisfaction and that kind of thing. SICK ART. (Furiously.) Mr. Von Pepping, my honor is worth just as much as yours. VON PEPPING. (Coldly.) I shall not question that at present. But you forget one thing: You owe me an account in money matters. SICKART. (Starting, but nevertheless endeavoring to keep his composure.) To you? That is new to me. VON PEPPING. I believe I am associate guardian of my nephew. SICKART. I am subject to the control of the guardianship committee and am ready to appear before them at any moment. VON PEPPING. You will be given the opportunity as quickly as 156 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. possible. Besides this the property of the Baroness Von Pepping has been given into your charge. You have also to give an account of this. SICKART. Not to you, but to the baroness. VON PEPPING. I am her representative. I am commissioned to present myself to you at once in that capacity. SICKART. Very good. If the baroness thinks that her in- terests are not safe in my hands VON PEPPING. You cannot wish, after what has passed, to be associated with our affairs any longer. SICKART. (With an effort.} Very good, Mr. Von Pepping. I am at your service. And when this is settled, then VON PEPPING. (Ironically.) Yes, yes. When then? SICKART. If to-morrow suits you VON PEPPING. Thanks. It is only a question, after all, of handing over deeds, etc. It will presumably not THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 157 be agreeable for you to take the trouble to come here. I shall, therefore, consent to go to your office. Will ten o'clock suit you ? (SicTcart ~boics silently.) VON PEPPING. Very good. To-morrow morning then, at ten o'clock, at your office. (Rings.) Mr. Attorney Sickart. (Servant opens door in background. Sickart looks frowningly at Von Pepping a moment, then, with a slight bozv goes out.) SCENE VIII. VON PEPPING, GERDA. VON PEPPING. (Opens door to the left.) Come, Gerda. That is settled. GERDA. (Comes in with troubled look, goes sloivly to the sofa and throws herself down on it.) Ah, you might have spared me that. VON PEPPING. (Earnestly and firmly.) It had to take place. GERDA. How cruel you were to him! 158 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. What! Are you still inclined in his favor? GERDA. We may be doing him an injustice. For what have you proved? VON PEPPING. Did it not convince you when you heard him call the little girl "thou" when you saw him de- fend her like a lion? Gerda, be sensible. Have you shaken off Dobbelin only to sink into another quagmire of love affairs with servants? GERDA. (Shuddering.) Ah! YON PEPPING. Now, you see! GERDA. Why is life so ugly, so dirty? (Stares in front of her for a moment.) What did he say? How did he go? VON PEPPING. (Smiling.) Of course, he talks of challenging GERDA. (Springing up ivith a cry.) Ernest, you will not THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 159 VON PEPPING. (Stroking her cheek.) Nonsense! Be quite easy. Nothing is going to happen. But I am afraid the principal crash is yet to come. GERDA. What do you mean? VON PEPPING. At the first word I spoke of giving an account of your property he grew as white as chalk. You see what I suspected is probably a fact. GERDA. No nasty money matters between us, I beg of you. VON PEPPING. What! You cannot wish to spare the man? GERDA. Let us be merciful to the man who has served us so well. VON PEPPING. He has been paid for it. GERDA. (Gently.) He has lived for weeks in the hope VON PEPPING. Unfortunately, anyway we must save from his clutches everything there is left to save. 160 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. GEKDA. Do what is absolutely necessary, but no more. VON PEPPING. You are too gentle, too good, dear little Gerda. Well, we will first see how much harm there is done. (Curtain falls.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 161 ACT V. (Scene same as in Act I.) SCENE I. MRS. SICKART, LOUISE, CATHERINE. MRS. SICKART. (She and Louise are standing with hat and coat on before Catherine.) He did not sleep here last night? CATHERINE. No. MRS. SICKART. And he said nothing. He left no word here? CATHERINE. Nothing. LOUISE. (Wrings her hands in uncontrollable emotion.) MRS. SICKART. ( Warns Louise ly a look to contain herself. To Catherine.) When did yon last see your master? 162 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. CATHERINE. Yesterday morning he went out as usual, only somewhat later. Since then he has not been home. MRS. SICKART. And and how was he yesterday? CATHERINE. How he was? Just as he usually is. (The doorbell rings.) MRS. SICKART. If that should be he! CATHERINE. Rubbish! Hasn't the master got his latchkey? (Exit.) SCENE II. MRS. SICKART, LOUISE, VON EWES. LOUISE. (Grasps Mrs. Siclcart's hand.) Ah, I shall die of anxiety! If only nothing has happened. It were a thousand times better it should be I than he. MRS. SICKART. Don't frighten me, Louise. God forbid it should be so. Anyway Fritz is no child! THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 163 VON EWES. (Enters.) Good-day, Mrs. Sickart. (Gives her his hand and casts a rapid glance at Louise.) Well, isn't Fritz at home? MRS. SICKART. Ah ! heaven has sent you, my boy. No, he is not at home. And he did not sleep here last night either. Don't yon know where he is? Have you not seen him? Has he not been at the office? EWES. No. It was on that account - MRS. SICKART. What has taken place? VON EWES. Well that is just what I hoped to find out here* MRS. SICKART. We expected him the evening before last she too. (Ewes nods.) And yesterday, during the whole day, anxiously, but he did not appear. What can all this mean? VON EWES. I have no idea. He did not come to the office yesterday. He was due in court he had appoint- ments at the office people arrived, but no Fritz, no message, no excuse, either. We were all 164 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. puzzled. ( Mrs. Sickart grasps Ms right hand in loth hers, anxiously.) "Well, well, do not be frightened, dear Mrs. Sickart. He has perhaps gone on some sudden journey. That is my idea. You know he always has so much business and so many plans on hand. MRS. SICKART. But he might, anyway, have sent us a line. EWES. Quite true. But perhaps at this very moment there is a telegram at your house, or at the office. MRS. SICKART. But if there is not? EWES. Ah! then I must look the thing up. It is now ten o'clock. (Looking at his watch.) If we have heard nothing by noon - SCENE III. MRS. SICKART, LOUISE, VON EWES, SICKART, CATHERINE. (Sickart enters, pale and heavy-eyed as from lack of sleep. He wears his overcoat and has his hat on his head.) THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 165 MRS. SlCKART. (Screams.) Fritz! God be praised! (Rushes to meet him.) VON EWES. (At the same time.) Ha! there he is, our wandering minstrel! (Advances toward him with outstretched hand.) SICKART. (Stares at loth and also at Louise, who is regard- ing him anxiously, for a moment. To Catherine 9 who has followed him into the room, roughly.) What do you want? CATHERINE. To help you off with your hat and coat, sir. SICKART. (Hands them to her. Exit Catherine. Sickart passes his hand over his forehead; takes Von Ewes' hand and presses it.) You were looking for me? VON EWES. I should rather say so. Eckbaum is wild. Your work in court and your Chamberlain Von Pep- ping SICKART. (Starting.) Ah! What about him? 166 THE SHACKLES OF FA TE. VON EWES. It seems you had an appointment with him at the office. SICKART: (Dully.) Yes. What did he say? VON EWES. He was very much astonished not to find you there, and impressed it upon us that we should tell you so. SICKART. Really. (Remains standing in the middle of the room, staring on the ground.) MRS. SICKART. (Approaches him and takes hold of his arm, hesi- tatingly.) Fritz, what anxiety we have endured about you ! SICKART. (Arousing himself from his reverie.) Kindly leave me in peace, will you? VON EWES. ( Conciliatingly. ) Sickart SICKART. One can never get rid of these women. They are something awful. What do you want, mother? What do you both want? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 167 MRS. SlCKART. We wanted to see where you were, after all SICKART. Yes, yes. Now leave me alone for a moment with Ewes. I have something to say to him. MRS. SICKART. No, I shall not leave you. I must hear what is going on. 1 can imagine what it is. SICKART. (Excitedly.) This is too much! I tell you I wish to speak to Ewes! MRS. SICKART. (Firmly.) It concerns me also. Louise has told me what happened the day before yesterday. My heart is as heavy as lead. (Louise plucks her gently by the sleeve.) SICKART. Cannot I ever shake you off? Come along, Ewes; we cannot remain here. VON EWES. Leave us, dear Mrs. Sickart! You see he insists upon speaking to me alone. Whatever he has to tell you can be told later. (Exit Mrs. Sickart and Louise, slowly and reluct- antly, through door to the left.) 168 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SCENE IV. Vcw EWES, SICKART. SlCKART. (Places himself in front of Von Ewes and looks at him from under drawn trows.) Ewes, a moment ago yon gave me yonr hand. VOK EWES. Naturally. SICKART. And I took it. I should not have done so, for I am not worthy of it. Vo^r EWES. Nonsense! You talk this way because you are repentant. After one has been spreeing it one is apt to feel so. SICKART. Do I look seedy to you? VOK EWES. Hm! SICKART. You are all wrong. Before you stands, not a dissipated boy, but a lost and dishonored man. (Throivs himself heavily on a chair.) Vo:sr EWES. (Starting tack, uneasily.) Why, Sickart! What is the trouble? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 169 SlCKART. My engagement to Mrs. Von Pepping has been broken off. VON EWES. What! Why, what caused that? SICKART. Yes what! Something so stupid so unutterably stupid it is to laugh, or else to shoot oneself. (Ewes lays Ms hand soothingly on his shoulder.) You noticed the girl who is here with my mother? VON EWES. Yes. Pretty little thing. Well? SICKART. I thought so, too. At the time I returned from the university she was Mrs. Von Olderode's maid. A pretty young thing, and so guileless, and so trusting! Well, there was some foolish love- making and and the result was a child. VON EWES. Phew! SICKART. There followed much weeping, wailing and wringing of hands. She would never survive the disgrace; she would drown herself and that kind of thing. Naturally, one is obliged to console, to swear this and that, to promise all kinds of things, and so on. What can one expect? We men are 170 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. all cowards in that respect. I came to Berlin, and believed that all this was a thing of the past. But Louise was of another opinion. She kept firm hold on me followed me here, told my mother the whole story. And then she was brought to the Peppings and you can imagine what followed. Vo$- EWES. I can. Of course this would naturally anything but please a fiancee. But there are so many similar cases, and who regards that kind of thing seriously these days? (Sickart makes an expres- sive motion with his hand.} Do you know, you were somewhat of a muff that you could not suc- ceed in talking over the woman a little firmness, and some few concessions but (Pointing to the door.) Can they not hear us in there? SICKAET. Through that thick curtain? No. You do not understand the circumstances of the case. If it had been you, for example, it would have been considered a student amourette, which you would drop completely as soon as you were tired of it. In my case it means something more serious. Louise did not regard me in the light of a young noble- man, who would naturally promise her nothing. I was to her the son of Mrs. Eieke, almost on the same level as herself, and whom she might very well hope do you understand now, my son? You TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. 171 see, my fate is forever dragging me down into the old slough and there is no escape for me. VON EWES. I fail to see why not. What a woman like that chooses to believe is of no account. It must be Sickart do you still care for her? SICKART. I cannot make out myself. Have I had time, anyway, in all this mad rush, to think about it at all? One thing I do know when she suddenly appeared before me in Berlin, just as loving, as humble and as trusting as ever I really hadn't the heart to ride rough shod over her feelings. Perhaps it was weakness, or damned sentimen- tality, perhaps it was more, I cannot say. I fought with myself, torn by conflicting emotions. But all this is of no account at present. She was badly treated at the Peppings and in my presence. All the blood rushed to my head, and I lost control of myself completely. It is all over with Gerda. In one way I am glad for I see now it could not have been avoided. EWES. I do not understand you at all. You say you are glad in one way, and at the same time you declare you are " lost" and dishonored. 172 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Slowly, with an effort.) You do not know everything. Perhaps I should have broken off the engagement, but not yet. In my own good time, when it pleased me to do so. VON EWES. Ah, I see wounded self-love. SICKAKT. No, Ewes. As a consequence of the break with Mrs. Von Pepping I must render an account to her brother of her property which I have been managing VON EWES. (Springing up.) Ah! SICKART. And this is the awful part of it. VON EWES. You unfortunate how could you SICKAKT. (Also springing up, wildly.) Where did you think, then, that I got the money for the electioneering expenses? From my pater- nal inheritance, perhaps? VON EWES. I supposed the party funds. Yes, this is quite a different matter. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 173 SlCKART. (Approaching him, and laying his hand on his shoulder.) Yon can nnderstand now? VON EWES. (Drawing back with changed, stiff bearing, contin- uing so till the end. Sharply and shortly.) I mnst ask yon SICKART. (Turns away, brokenly.) Ah! VON EWES. (After a short pause.) Is it a qnestion of mnch money? SICKART. ( Very depressed in almost a whisper.) More than enough to finish me. VON EWES. The snm? SICKART. Ah! let us drop the subject. VON EWES. I mnst know if I be able to aid you. SICKART. I am beyond aid. 174: THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON EWES. I am not doing it on your account. How much is it? SiCKART. ( With painful effort. ) The election cost fifteen thousand marks. VON EWES. (Frightened.) Fifteen thousand marks! That is certainly a lot. SlCKAET. And that is not all. Add eight thousand marks. VON EWES. What were they for? SICKART. Ewes, you are right. Give me up. It is too idiotic. Of course, I did the stupidest, the craziest thing that I could have done under the circum- stances I gambled. And, of course, I lost eight thousand marks, as the result of last night. VON EWES. To lose your head to such an extent! Why did you not confide all this to me yesterday? SICKART. Why why because I was still hopeful. I ran the whole day from one money-lending Jew to an- other. One thousand, two thousand marks I could THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 175 have gotten; but fifteen thousand impossible! So highly our friends, the usurers, did not value me. Evening came; I saw the hour unavoidably approaching when I should have to face Pepping. The comedy was over what had I to lose? So I went to an old and well-established gambling- house which I knew, and gambled for freedom and life gambled, and lost! There that is all I have to tell. VON EWES. (Shaking Ms head.) To expect any help from cards! SICKART. What astonishes you so greatly about it ? Has not my whole life been a pure game of chance? Was not that election business one, too? To be sure, I believed myself bound to win with the money the money of my wife-to-be. VON EWES. What do you intend doing now? SICKART. Doing? Why, nothing. It is all over. YOK EWES. One cannot give up in this way. Would Eck- baum not SICKART. He? Not even if I were his son. 176 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON EWES. Well, then, there is only one thing to do. You must go to Pepping and tell him everything. He will not care to see you ruined. SICKART. You do not know the man. He is a cold- blooded worldling, selfish through and through. He cannot pardon me for having nearly become his brother-in-law. Besides, we had words to- gether. VON EWES. Of course, the step is not a pleasant one. Shall I speak to Pepping? SICKART. (Quickly.} He shall not hold me for a coward hiding behind an intercessor. VON EWES. Then what are we to do? Wait I know a man only a few steps from here, in Link Street. I will run over there and be back again in a moment. Perhaps I can get him to disgorge something. SICKART. Not possible. The sum is too large. VON EWES. One can always try, at least. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 177 SlCKAKT. And I do not care to have you do any more for me as long as you condemn me. VON EWES. Ah! enough of that! As I told you, I am not doing it for you. And then again I cannot bear to have you engulfed by this quicksand while I stand calmly looking on. SlCKART. (Broodingly.) You need not fear that. The sight will be spared you. VON EWES. (Coming close to him, looking at him sharply.) Sickart, no nonsense! SlCKART. Do you care to see me escorted to prison by two policemen? Were you in my place you would a thousand times prefer VON EWES. What idea have you got in your head? SlCKABT. You know well enough. VON EWES. You must promise me at once- 178 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. I promise you I will not live dishonored. Vox EWES. Yon have no right to seize this last means until everything else has been tried. (Goes to door to left.) SICKART. (Anxiously.) What are you going to do? Vox EWES. (Opens the door.) Mrs. Sickart, will you kindly come here? SCENE V. VOX EWES, SlCKART, MRS. SlCKART. MRS. SlCKART. (Enters quickly and glances at both anxiously.) i Vox EWES. (Taking her by the hand and leading her to Sickart, impressively.) Your son wants to do something foolish. Do not let him out of your sight. MRS. SICKART. What what! (Looks at both, with a cry.) Fritz, you shall not harm yourself! Fritz! Fritz! THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 179 SlCKART. (Endeavoring to shake her off.) What is all this? Ewes, what have you done? MRS. SICKART. I was afraid of this. I know Mr. Von Ewes is speaking the truth. Oh, God! Fritz, do you want to send me to my grave? What is the matter? Do tell me, at last. What am I, your mother, for? VON EWES. Your mother is right. Tell her all. (SicTcart turns his head away and is silent.) Well, then I shall do it for you. His engagement to Mrs. Von Pepping is broken off. MRS. SICKART. God be praised! VON EWES. (Astonished.) You say that also? MRS. SICKART. Yes, I have my reasons. But go on, go on. VON EWES. He was managing the property of his bride elect, and he was foolish enough MRS. SICKART. (Interrupting.) Ah, now I know. So that is it. I knew before that it must end so. Fritz, what did I telj you? 180 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON EWES. I cannot hide from you that things look black. But perhaps something can be done. MRS. SICKART. Of course something can be done. How much is owing? VON EWES. Twenty-three thousand marks. MRS. SICKART. God help us! (Sinks on a chair. Short pause.) It is an awful amount. But still Fritz, you must turn to our lady for help immediately. SICKART. Mrs. Von Olderode? No, never. VON EWES. (Striking his forehead.) But that is just the thing. Where were our wits? That is the only salvation. Your mother's heart has found the way. SICKART. (Dully.) Mrs. Von Olderode has given me up, with bitter reproaches. VON EWES. Why? MRS. SICKART. (Interrupting. ) That matters not. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 181 SlCKART. (Stammering.) Because I apparently did not think my mother good enough. MRS. SICKART. That does not matter at all. We will both take the first train to Guben. Milady loves you yet. That is quite sure. When you say something nice to her you can wind her around your finger. And did you not win all that money for her. And God has luckily given me a tongue. Yes, we will do this, and I am sure heaven will help us. Vo^- EWES. (Pressing her hand.) Dear, good Mrs. Sickart. SICKART. (Dully.} It is too late. The affair is already in the hands of the state attorney. MRS. SICKART. (Anxiously.) Does he mean the police? Ah, good Mr. Von Ewes! VOK EWES. I do not believe it. Pepping is a gentleman. He would not behave in this manner to the man who only yesterday well, a notice can be recalled, 182 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. anyway. Follow your mother's advice. You are right, the person in Link Street would probably be of no use to us. I am going to Pepping, whether you will or not. Mrs. Sickart, I leave him in your care. (Exit quickly.) SCENE VI. SICKART, MRS. SICKART. MRS. SICKART. Fritz, my poor Fritz. We are in a nice hole. And yet, after all, it is best as it is. You will see. Only don't lose courage. When does the next train to Guben leave? SICKART. At two. MRS. SICKART. We will take it. It is an extra expense, but we can't stop for that. And do you know, we will take Louise with us. (He looks at her.) Say nothing. God's hand is in it all. You have never known how much she is worth. I did not, either, for a long time. I thought her just a common wench, and that she only got what she deserved for not behaving herself. But I have been think- ing about her. When I could not sleep at night I TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. 183 thought it over, and I changed my mind Fritz, we will tell milady everything and she will be much fonder of you and Louise, and do everything for you, if you go to her and say, < Dear madam, such and such a thing has happened, but I will make an honest woman of her.' Yes, Fritz, you must do this You wanted to do better for yourself, and I agreed with you. God forgive me. not true that Louise, is not good enough for you. Look at your baroness. She is perhaps more cul- tivated and richer than poor Louise. But s threw you over as soon as she heard something against you. Louise, on the contrary, has been as true as steel to you; and the worse you treated her the more she loved you; and the day before yesterday she came to me and cried so that it would have melted a stone, and I could not comfort her because she held herself to blame for all that hap- pened, and she said she was satisfied with things as they were, and the baroness should have you, iJ it would make you happy. You see, that i Louise. 184 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SCENE VII. MBS. SlCKART, SlCKART, CATHERINE. I CATHERINE. (Opens the door and remains standing on the threshold.) Chamberlain Von Pepping asks if he can see Mr. Sickart? MRS. SlCKART. (In a low voice.) God be praised! SICKART. (Confused.) What? MRS. SICKART. Yes, let him come in. SICKART. (To Catherine.) Ask him in. (Exit Catherine.) MRS. SICKART. If he comes to you he has surely not seen the police. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 185 SCENE VIII. MRS. SlCKART, SlCKART, VON PEPPING. (Pepping enters, but remains standing, at right of Mrs. Sickart, in the middle of the drawing- room. Sickart has risen and lows silently.) VON PEPPING. ( With a wave of the hand toward Mrs. Sickart, shortly, icily.) If you will kindly first request the lady to leave? SICKART. My mother. (Mrs. Sickart lows, simply.) VON PEPPING. Ah! (As Mrs. Sickart makes no motion to leave the room . ) Is your mother to be present at our interview? SICKART. Mother, I beg of you MRS. SICKART. (In a low voice, decidedly.) I shall remain here. SICKART. (Shrugging his shoulders.) If it does not inconvenience you, Chamberlain VON PEPPING. Hm! well no, not me. 186 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Invites him to seat himself by a wave of the hand.) May I ask you to take a seat? VON PEPPING. (Paying no attention to the request, icily.) Sir, I was much astonished yesterday not to find you at the office. SICKART. You must pardon me, Mr. Von Pepping. VON PEPPING. And the reason for this very strange unpuncut- ality? SICKART. I was detained. VON PEPPING. Oh, really! (Short pause.) Is that all you have to say in excuse? (Sickart boius slightly.) Well, I suppose you are ready now to finish up this business. SICKART. As you wish. VON PEPPING. Well, then, if you will kindly (He seats himself at the table, draws from his coat pocket a paper, folded twice, and opens it. Sickart goes to the glass cabinet and brings out some papers, which he lays on the table before Von Pepping, adding to them THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 187 two tills of one thousand marks each, which he removes from his coat poclcet. Von Pepping glances alternately at the papers and then at his memorandum 9 then raising his head.) They do not agree. There is no note on the memorandum of these two thousand marks, while there are missing fifty bills of five hundred marks each. SICKART. (Dully.) I am your debtor to that amount. VON PEPPING. Eeally? And since when, then? We have loaned you nothing. MRS. SICKART. Fritz, why beat about the bush? Tell how it is. (Sickart is silent. Von Pepping looks at him sternly.) Well, then, I will tell you. My son, sir, has not acted rightly about your money. But you will not suffer by it. VON PEPPING. Ah! (Shoves away his papers, leans lack in the armchair and gazes at both of them through his monocle.) I cannot say that I am surprised. I was prepared for this. But the cold-blooded way in which you inform me of this passes even my expectations. 188 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKART. Don't be angry, sir. Every one has done some- thing stnpid in the course of their lives, and, besides, you shall have every penny of it back. Vo^" PEPPHSTG. (Impatiently to Sickart.) I should prefer to do business with you, not with your mother. MRS. SICKART. (Quickly.) Why should you not allow a mother to intercede for her child? VOK PEPPIHG. Your son makes use of you very skillfully as a bodyguard. I presume you arranged all this with him beforehand. SICKART. (Springing up, seizes Ms chair in uncontrollable anger, and cries.) Sir, another word, and you will never leave this place alive! ( Von Pepping also springs up and seizes his hat.) MRS. SICKART. (Catching her son's arm.) Be calm, Fritz; do not beat your head against the wall. (Hurrying after Pepping and tarring his way.) You are a nobleman, and I am only a THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 189 poor old woman. But if it were a question of con- science I could make just as good a showing as you. I do not say that Fritz has acted rightly. It was very wicked of him. VOK PEPPING. (Irritated.) As yet I have not heard him confess himself so. He is just as bold and haughty as usual. Just look at him! SICKART. (Still very excited.) You can insult me as much as you like; but my mother MRS. SICKART. Be quiet. The gentleman is not insulting me. (To Von Pepping.) What do you want him to do? He cannot whine over it like a whipped cur you would be more disgusted than ever. But he is just as sorry as I am. VOK PEPPIKG. I am not at all convinced of that. If we let him go scot free, he will probably laugh in his sleeve at us. MRS. SICKART. Don't believe anything so bad of him. SICKART. This is enough, mother; do not waste any more words. 190 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. (Turns to go.) MES. SICKAET. (Talcing Ms hat away from Mm.) You must not leave us in anger, sir. VON PEPPING. If I had acted as I wished to, I would not be here at all, but with the head of police. That would have been the right way to treat him after his behavior of yesterday. However, he was interceded for, undeservedly. MES. SICKAET. Not undeservedly, dear sir. VON PEPPING. Yesterday I only suspected how things were to-day I have the certitude. I do not know what is going to prevent me notifying the police. MES. SICKAET. ( With shaking voice.) If you do this, he w T ill make away with himself. VON PEPPING. The police will soon prevent that. MES. SIGKAET. ( With deep, suppressed resolve.} They cannot prevent me. If you wish to be responsible for this, why go to the police. (Short pause.) . THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 191 VON PEPPING. (Laying "his hat on a chair, more gently.) But, my dear lady, what are we to do? Do you think we can calmly allow ourselves (seeking a word) to be impoverished MRS. SICKART. (Quickly.) In two or three days everything will be paid back to you without fail. We have friends who have known us for years. VON PEPPING. (Ironically.) Friends! If that is the only surety MRS. SICKART. My son is some guarantee in himself is he not? SICKART. (Depressed.) I shall naturally give you my note of hand. VON PEPPING. We shall see. SICKART. (Fetches from the cabinet some writing materials, goes to the table and writes rapidly. Pepping sits down in the meanwhile, crosses his legs and looks on through his monocle.) 193 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. SlCKART. (Handing over the paper.) Will you kindly read this? VON PEPPING. (Reads.) I owe Mrs. Gerda von Pepping twenty-three thousand marks, besides interest on same from November first to date. And so you think you will crawl through on the strength of this. No, Mr. Attorney Sickart. I do not ask you for an L 0. TL, but for a written confession of guilt. (Lays the paper on the table.) I will dictate to you what you shall write. SICKART. (Looks at him gloomily for a moment then writes as he is dictated to.) VON PEPPING. (Dictating.) I confess that out of the property of the Baroness Gerda von Pepping, confided to my charge, fifty bills, of five hundred marks each, have been stolen by me. SICKART. (Throwing down the pen.) Mr. Von Pepping! VON PEPPING. I cannot spare you. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 193 MRS. SlCKART. Fritz, yon shall not write that. VON PEPPING. Yon still cannot perceive that he is guilty? \ MRS. SICKART. Yes, sir, I do see it. And I am not excusing him either. Bnt one must have a little compassion. When he got to know milady, your sister, and she was so beautiful and charming, and so nice to him too, why it went to his head, and he wanted to rise in the world all at once. He had never thought of such a thing before. He wanted to become a great personage so milady, your sister, would be proud of him. He told me so himself. He did not do it for himself. One must take that into consideration. VON PEPPING. (Twirling his mustache.) You would make a splendid lawyer. It seems to run in your family. (Mrs. Sickart turns away, offended. Von Pepping, quickly.) I assure you, that was not meant sarcastically, dear madam. Suppose I admit, now, the mitigating circumstances which you have just mentioned. Was it right of him to deceive my sister with that person MRS. SICKART. (Starting.) Sir, what do you mean? 194 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON PEPPING. It has been proved. MKS. SICKART. If I were a nobleman and had done a poor girl such an injustice I could not sleep quietly until I had begged her to forgive me. (Pepping looks at her, taken aback.) Yes, yes, sir, I am speaking the truth. Deceive milady! None of us would do such a thing. Fritz was first of all ashamed of Louise. That was the great mistake to begin with. If he hadn't been, all this would never have hap- pened. He left her behind in G-uben. She there, he here out of sight, out of mind. He probably persuaded himself into believing that she no longer existed for him, and that he was free and could do as he liked. But when he saw her once more his eyes were opened. He did not know at once, how- ever, how he could arrange matters. If you had : only given us time, he would have settled every- thing honestly. He has deceived nobody, and neither has Louise. There you have it all. PEPPING. Hra well, appearances were against him any- way. (Short pause.) And so you desire that your son should go quite unpunished for his we will put it mildly for his indiscretion? THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 195 MRS. SlCKART. (Quickly.) Is it not punishment enough that he must sit \ there as though glued to the chair and let a stupid old woman do all the talking for him? PEPPING. You are his guardian angel, dear madam. Give me your hand. (She gives it to him, hesitatingly.) He is not worthy of you. (She snatches it aivay, hastily.) Well, that does not concern me. (Takes the papers from the table and put them in his in- side coat pocket.) Here is your receipt back. (Sickart rises and bozvs silently. Pepping to Mrs. Sickart as he goes out.) Good-by, dear madam, and think kindly of us. (Exit.) SCENE IX. MRS. SICKART. Good God, how it has told on you. You look quite ill, poor boy. It has been almost too much for me, too. Go to poor Louise now. She sits there all alone in her grief. And it is almost time for the train, too. Ah, me, what a poor mortal 196 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. has to endure! (Sickart goes slowly through the door to the left. Mrs. Sickart sighs loudly.) Ah! (Dries her forehead with her handkerchief.) SCENE X. MRS. SICKART, VON EWES, SICKART, LOUISE. VON EWES. (Enters in haste, almost breathless.) Of course, I did not find Pepping at home. I saw him just now driving away so he must have been here. MRS. SICKART. Yes. VON EWES. Well, and how do affairs stand? SICKART. (Enters through left-hand door. Louise is leaning against him, tut draws back, shyly, at sight of Von Ewes. Sickart holds her firmly.) \ VON EWES. Ah, there he is! Well? SICKART. (Gloomily.) Pepping consented to accept an ordinary LO.TL VON EWES. I hoped he would. THE SHACKLES OF FATE. 197 SlCKART. I hoped for nothing. I had finished with life. My mother got me ont of the scrape, and a new life lies before me. EWES. (Pressing her hand.) Dear, good Mrs. Sickart! SICKART. Yes, but I I feel as small as (measuring with his hand from the ground) as small as that. MRS. SICKART. Well, you'll grow again. SICKART. But not here. Ewes, I shall leave the country. MRS. SICKART. What? SICKART. Yes, I shall go. VON EWES. Hm! leave the country I do not think that is necessary. If Pepping has settled with you he will hold his peace. SICKART. I will have to learn how to hold my head high again. I cannot do that here. Also to fulfill my duty toward this girl I must go elsewhere. 198 THE SHACKLES OF FATE. VON EWES. Yon intend to marry her, then? SICKART. Yes. VON EWES. (Looks at him a moment, then puts out his hand.) SICKART. (Takes and presses it, overcome by emotion.) LOUISE. (Shyly.) Yon shall not go away on my acconnt. I ask for nothing. As long as nobody else has you I will wait for yon as long as you wish. VON EWES. So these are your only reasons for leaving us? You are not yet cured. You care more about people's opinion than you do for the voice of your own conscience. SICKART. I dare not make it too hard for me to bear. If I am to become a new man I must start life afresh, and so I go. LOUISE. Ah, Fritz, it would be horrible if I should be- come a burden on you! And yet, to remain here all alone TEE SHACKLES OF FATE. MRS. SlCKAET. Girl, you must go with him. You belong to your boy, and your boy belongs to mine. (Un- steadily.} But as for me will yon take me, too? Fritz, in a strange land you ought to have some one to take care of yon, even if you cannot live in state when I am around. SICKART. You shall both come. VON EWES. But not as your shackles. SICKART. No, as my anchor. (He kisses his mother's hand; she lays her head on his breast.) THE END. Neely's Popular Library. Paper . Twenty-five Cents. ODD FOLKS. By Opie Read. A MOUNTAIN OF GOLD. By Willis Steell. jj ONE OF EARTH'S DAUGHTERS. Ellen Robert*. THE PASSING OF ALIX. By Mrs. Marjorie Paul. LUNAR CAUSTIC. 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