Moral | Page 3

used to high living soon
enough.
BOLLAND [to Dobler]. How long have you been in the city now?
DOBLER. Two years.
BOLLAND. And before that you were in ... eh?

FRAU BOLLAND. You must excuse him Herr Dobler. Why in
Unterschlettenbach, dear ... You know that!
BOLLAND [correcting himself]. Certainly. Bit of literary history.
Mighty interesting place that Unterschlettenbach ... eh?
DOBLER. Hardly, Herr Kommerzienrat. Poor and unsanitary. Most of
its inhabitants are miners.
BOLLAND. Fancy that! And I never knew it. Full of miners! Tell me
though, what do you think of our set here ...? How do you like this
well-to-do circle ... the big city ... wealthy surroundings?
DOBLER [lighting a cigar]. I like it well enough. But I think I will
always feel out of place here.
BOLLAND. Can't get used to it?
DOBLER. Everything is so different. It seems to me at times as though
I had suddenly entered a beautiful house while outdoors my old
comrade was awaiting me patiently--the open road.
FRAU BOLLAND. Isn't that won--derful? So very re-a-lis-tic-ally put!
I can just picture it. Oh Herr Dobler ... I must tell you: your novel--my
husband and I talk about it all day long.
BOLLAND. Tell me though--did you yourself experience the life of
that young man you describe?
DOBLER. It's the story of my youth.
BOLLAND. But it's somewhat colored by poetic imagination?
DOBLER. N---o.
BOLLAND. For instance, you have never actually starved?
DOBLER. Oh, yes. There's no imagination in that.
BOLLAND. Just the way you describe it--so that everything turned
red?
DOBLER. Everything had a pink color. On one occasion I did not eat
anything for four and one-half days.
FRAU BEERMANN [compassionately]. You poor thing!
FRAU BOLLAND. That's exceedingly interesting!
BOLLAND. Do tell us all about it! Then you saw dancing fires?
DOBLER. Yes. Everything danced before my eyes, and I saw it all
through a hazy veil, and towards the end my hearing was affected.
BOLLAND. You don't say so? Your hearing also?
DOBLER. When any one spoke to me it sounded as if he stood a great
distance off--a great distance.

FRAU BOLLAND. Our set never dreams of such things.
BEERMANN. How did it all turn out?
DOBLER. What do you mean?
BEERMANN. Well, in the end you got something to eat again?
DOBLER. Finally I fainted; I was found lying in a meadow, and was
taken to the hospital.
FRAU BEERMANN [sighing]. Are such things still possible in our
day?
FRAU BOLLAND. What can you expect--of these idealists! DR.
HAUSER. They deserve nothing better.
BEERMANN. And after you were in the hospital--how did you get
out?
DOBLER. As soon as I got stronger. Later on I became a printer--
found a position--studied and published my book.
BEERMANN. That's all in your novel, I know. But the part where you
describe how you were a tramp--that's not true?
DOBLER. Yes, I "hoboed" almost a whole year.
FRAU BOLLAND. "Hoboed!" Fancy that! How unique!
FRAULEIN KOCH-PINNEBERG. I can just picture it. Tramping
along the railroad tracks.
DOBLER. Yes. You folks think you can picture it with four square
meals a day. But it's quite different, I assure you. There were three of
us at that time. We worked our way from Basel upwards-- sometimes
on the left--sometimes on the right bank of the Rhine. In Worms we
spent the last of our money and we had to PEDDLE for HAND-OUTS.
FRAU BOLLAND [not understanding him]. "Handouts?" What is that?
DOBLER [with pathos]. To beg for something to eat, gnadige Frau, for
our daily bread.
[They all remain silent. Only the voice of the butler who is serving
liqueur can be heard.] "Cognac monsieur! Chartreuse! Champagne?"
BEERMANN [taking a glass]. To a man of refinement, such an
existence must have been quite unbearable.
DOBLER [taking a glass of cognac from the butler]. Unpleasant.
[Drinking.] But you lose your sensitiveness. At first it is hard-- but one
learns. In one hot day on the road ... when you get fagged out--and with
every stone hurting your feet--you'll learn. The dust blinds you--but
you've got to go on just the same. In the evening you come to a small

hamlet with smoke curling above the house-tops and the houses
themselves look cozy--then you have to hold your hat in your hand and
beg for a plate of warm soup. [A short pause.]
DR. WASNER [deep bass voice]. Home sweet home!
BOLLAND. The story reminds me exactly of my late father.
FRAU BOLLAND. But, Adolph!
BOLLAND. Indeed, I say it does!
FRAU BOLLAND. How can you draw such a comparison? Herr
Dobler has become a celebrated poet.
BOLLAND. My father also achieved something in life. At his funeral
four hundred employees followed the coffin.
FRAU BOLLAND [impatiently]. We've heard that before ... Herr
Dobler, did you