Hannele: A Dream Poem/Part 1

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[Blowing on her hands, without laying down the bundle under her arm.] Oh, Lord, Lord! what weather! [She lets the bundle slip down upon the table, goes on blowing into her hollow hands, and treads alternately with one of her ragged shoes upon the other.] We haven't had such an awful night this many a year.

What have you got there?

[Grinding her teeth and whimpering with pain, seats herself upon the bench by the stove, and begins to take off her shoes.] Oh, mercy! oh, mercy! my toes! They burn like fire.

[Has untied the bundle. A loaf, a packet of chicory, a cornet of coffee, and one or two pairs of stockings, &c., ​are revealed.] You'll be able to spare me a trifle out of all this.

[With one foot bare and the other still in the shoe, hobbles with her bundle to the bedstead against the back wall.] Do you think I've trudged miles and miles, hey? and had the marrow frozen in my bones, for you to go and grab it all, hey?

Oh, shut up, you fool! Do you think I want to steal the blessed rubbish you've wheedled out of people?

[Concealing her bundle under the straw pallet.] Who's done more hard work in her life, I wonder—me or you? You've never done anything worth talking about, for as old as you are—every one knows that!

Leastways I haven't done what you have. Haven't ​I heard the pastor calling you over the coals? When I was young, like you, I took better care of myself, I can tell you.

Was that why they put you in prison, perhaps?

And you may go there too, as soon as you please. I've only to find a Shandarm^[1]—I could tell him a thing or two. Just you keep a civil tongue in your head, my girl, I warn you

All right! Send on your Shandarm to me, and I'll have something to tell him too.

You can tell what tales you like, for me.

Who was it that stole the great-coat, hey? from the innkeeper's little boy, hey? [Tulpe makes a motion as if to spit at Hete.] Tulpe! take care! just drop that.

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Get along with you! I wouldn't have a thing of yours at a gift.

'Cause you know you won't get anything.

Oh, curse the hail! curse the hail! it stings like the devil! The old shanty of a Refuge, one of these days—one of these days, it'll come toppling about our ears.

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[Calling after Hete.] Why are you running—why are you running away? We—we won't—do nothing to you. Hey, Hanke, hey?

[At the stove, busied with a pot of potatoes.] The creature's out of her senses. She thinks we want to take her things away from her.

[Coming into the room.] Oh, Lord, Lord, good people! Did ever—did ever you see the like! Good evenin'—good evenin', ha! Oh, the devil, the devil! what weather! what weather! I was blown down, I was—all my length—all my length—as flat as a pancake.

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Where have you been to?

Me? Me? Where have I been? Oh, a long—a long way off. I've just gone—I've just gone the round of Oberdorf.

Brought anything back?

Ay, ay, fine things—fine things. At the Precentor's—they gave me—gave me—five groschen, they did. And up at the inn—up—at the inn—I got—got a canful—ay, a canful of soup, that's what I got.

I'll heat it up at once. Give it here.

I've got—I've got—the stump of a sausage too. The butcher—Seipelt the batcher—gave—gave it me.

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How much money have you got?

Three five-groschen pieces—ay, three five-groschen pieces—I think—I think it is.

Out with them, too. I'll keep 'em for you.

[Re-entering.] A nice fool you to give her everything.[She goes to the stove.

You mind your own business.

Why, he's her fancy man.

Oh, good Lord! good Lord!

He must bring a bit of a present to his sweetheart. That's the proper thing.

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Do you go and make a fool—and make a fool—of whoever you like. Leave an old man—an old man—leave him in peace.

[Imitating Pleschke's manner of speaking.] Old Pleschke—poor old Pleschke—he'll soon—he'll soon have stuttered himself dumb. Soon he won't be—he won't be—able to get a single word out.

[Threatening her with his stick.] Now you—now you—just hold your jaw.

Who'll make me, hey?

Now hold your—your jaw.

Go on! Give her one!

Just you—hold your jaw.

Stop this nonsense.

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Leave me alone.

I don't see nothing to laugh at.

[Still laughing.] There now! There now! Who could help laughing?

Oh, Lord! Lord! just look!

You look to your bag, my man. Perhaps you won't find it as heavy as it was.

[Turns and sees he has been made a fool of.] The hussy! [He rushes after Hete.] Just let me catch you!

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A devil of a wench! a devil of a wench!

Hey? What was that?

[Staring in stupid astonishment.] Hey, hey, hey, hey! What's all this? what's all this?

[Spreading coverings and his own cloak over the girl.] Heat some bricks, Seidel! Quick! quick!

Look alive now, look alive! A couple of bricks! Hullo, hullo! Come, bustle about there!

What's the matter with her?

Oh, there's no time for questions. [Goes quickly out with Tulpe.

[Soothingly, to Hannele.] There now, there now! Don't be afraid—no one will hurt you.

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[Her teeth chattering.] I'm so frightened! I'm so frightened!

You've nothing at all to be afraid of. No one will do anything to you.

My father! my father!——

But he's not here.

I'm so frightened for fear father should come.

But he isn't coming. Believe me, he isn't.

[Holding up a grater.] Just look here! This is the sort of present they give Hanke.

[Starting up in terror.] He's coming! he's coming!

I'll polish you with it! Just you look out!

[To Hannele.] There's nothing to fear, Hannele. [To Hanke.] What do you want?

[Astonished.] Me? What do I want?

[Sticks her head in at the door and calls:] Who stole the grater? Who stole the grater?

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[Threateningly.] Just you wait; I'll pay you out, no fear!

Please make as little noise as you can; the girl is ill.

[Has picked up the grater and put it in his pocket. He retreats somewhat abashed.] What's all the trouble?

[Re-enters, carrying two bricks.] Here's something in the meantime.

[Touching the bricks to try their warmth.] Are they hot enough already?

They'll warm her a little, anyway.

[Pointing out another place.] The other one here.

She isn't the least bit warmer yet. ​

She's positively shuddering with cold.

[Standing close to the bed, with her arms akimbo.] Brandy and hot water, if you have any.

[Produces a flask, as do Pleschke and Hanke.] There's a drop left here.

[Already at the stove.] Give it here.

Have you hot water?

Oh, Lord! yes, enough to boil an ox.

And put a little sugar in, if you have any.

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How should the likes of us have sugar?

Why, you have some. Don't speak like a fool.

Me? Sugar? No, I haven't. [With a forced laugh.

I know you brought some back with you. Didn't I see it in your bundle just now? You needn't be telling lies about it.

Come along, out with it.

Run, Hete, run!

Can't you see how ill the girl is?

[Stubbornly.] Oh, what do I care!

Fetch the sugar.

You can go to the grocer's for it. [Slinks out.

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Yes, it's high time for you to be off, else I'd warm your ears for you. I'd give you something, so that I don't think you'd come back for more.

[Who has gone out for a moment, returns.] That's the sort of girl she is—the sort of girl she is.

I'd soon knock the nonsense out of her. If I were the Overseer, I'd take a good stout cudgel to her, and, mark my words, she'd soon find work to do. A girl like that—a strapping young hussy!—what has she to do loafing about the Refuge?

Here I've got—a little bit—a little bit of sugar. I've just—I've just—found it.

[Snuffing up the scent of the brandy and water.] My word, don't I wish I was ill!

[In an official yet familiar manner.] Make way there! Here comes the Overseer.

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Good evening, Mr. Overseer! Good evening, Captain!

'Evening! [He lays down his hat, stick and cloak. With an expressive gesture.] Now clear out of this!

Good evening, Mr. Gottwald. [Shakes hands with him.] Well, what's the matter here?

We've just got her out of the water.

[Steps forward.] By your leave, Mr. Overseer. ​[From old military habit, he salutes with his hand to his forehead.] You see I had some business at the smithy. I wanted to have a band round my axe-haft. And just as I came out of the smithy—I mean Jeuchner's smithy down there—you know there's a pond—you might almost call it a kind of a lake. [To Gottwald.] Yes, it's true; it's big enough for that. And like enough, you know, Mr. Overseer, there's one spot in it that doesn't freeze; it's never been known to freeze right over. When I was quite a little boy——

Well, well, come to the point!

[Again saluting.] Well, as I was saying, as I came out of the smithy, just then the moon broke through the clouds a bit, and I heard a sort of a moaning. First I thought it was just some one playing me a trick, but presently I saw that there was something in the pond—in the open spot, I mean. I hollered out, but it disappeared. Well, I—you may guess I tore into the smithy and got hold of a board, and I never spoke a word, but just rushed round the pond, out with the board on the ice, and then, before you could say one, two, three, there I was out upon it and had her fast by her hair.

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Come now, that's better, Seidel. Generally, when I hear of you, it's something to do with fighting, and bloody heads and broken bones. This is a very different affair. And then you brought her straight here?

The Schoolmaster, you see——

I happened to be passing. I was coming from the teachers' meeting. First I took her home to my house, and my wife managed to find some clothes, so that she might at least have something dry on her.

But what can have put it into her head?

[With some hesitation.] Well, you see, she's Mattern the mason's step-daughter.

[With a slight movement of surprise.] Whose did you say? That scoundrel's!

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The mother died six weeks ago—and you can guess the rest. She scratched me and struck out at me, only because she thought I was her father.

[Murmurs.] The hound!

He's down at Niederkretscham at this very moment; he's been sitting soaking there ever since yesterday. The people there let him have as much as ever he likes.

We'll make the scoundrel pay dear for this. [He stoops over the bed to speak to Hannele.] Come, my girl, speak to me. Don't moan so, and don't look at me in that scared way. I won't do anything to you. Tell me, what's your name? What do you say? I couldn't hear you. [He stands erect.] I believe the girl's a little stubborn.

She's only terrified. Hannele!

[Whispers.] Yes.

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You must answer the Overseer.

[Shivering.] Dear God! I'm cold!

[Coming forward with the brandy and water.] Come now, drink a little of this.

[As before.] Dear God! I'm hungry!

[To the Overseer.] And when we offer her anything she won't eat it.

Dear God! it hurts me so!

What hurts you?

I'm so afraid.

Who's been hurting you? Who? Come now, speak out. I don't understand a word, my dear child. This won't do, you know. Listen, my good ​girl: has your stepfather been ill-using you?—I mean has he beaten you? locked you in? turned you out of doors, or anything of that sort, eh? Why, good heavens——

The girl's very silent. Things have got to be very bad indeed before she'll say a word. You see, in a manner of speaking, she's as mute as a mackerel.

I only want to have something definite to act upon. Perhaps I can get hold of the rascal this time.

She's beside herself with terror of the fellow.

You see it's nothing new, all this. Everyone, as you might say—everyone knows all about it; you can ask whoever you please. The wonder is that the girl's still alive; you wouldn't think it possible.

What has he done to her, then?

Well, you see, all manner of things, as you might ​say. He'll drive her out of the house at nine at night, even in weather like this, and he won't let her back again unless she brings at least a five-groschen piece with her—for him to go and drink it, of course. Where was the child to find five groschen? Many's the time she's been out half the night, and then, when she came home and brought no money—well, it's made people come running out from all quarters to hear how she shrieked—how she bellowed, as you might say.

Her mother was a little bit of protection to her while she lived.

Well, in any case, I'll have the rascal arrested. His name's been for years on the list of habitual drunkards. Come now, my child, just look at me.

[Imploringly.] Oh, no, no, no!

You won't find it so easy to get anything out of her.

[Gently.] Hannele!

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Yes.

Do you know me?

Yes.

Who am I?

The—the Schoolmaster—Mr. Gottwald.

That's right. Well, now, you know I only want to be kind to you, so you can tell me all about it. You were down at the smithy pond. Why didn't you stop at home? Well, why didn't you?

I'm so frightened.

We'll stand right back. Now, you just tell the Schoolmaster all about it, quite alone.

[Shyly and mysteriously.] He called to me.

Who called?

The dear Lord Jesus.

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Where did the dear Lord Jesus call to you?

Out of the water.

Where?

Down there in the water.

[Seized with a new idea, puts on his cloak.] The first thing to be done is to send for the Doctor. I daresay he's still to be found at the inn.

I sent at once to the Sisters of Mercy. The child will certainly need nursing.

I'll go and tell the Doctor. [To Schmidt.] You bring the police officer to me. I'll wait at the inn. Good-night, Mr. Gottwald. We'll have the fellow under lock and key this very night. [He goes out with Schmidt. Hannele falls asleep.

[After a pause.] He'll take care not to catch him.

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Why should he do that!

He knows why. Who do you think is the child's father?

Oh, Seidel, that's all mere gossip.

You know quite well he was the woman's lover.

Oh, people don't mind what lies they tell. You can't believe half you hear. If only the Doctor would come!

[In a low voice.] I don't believe she'll ever get up again.

Good evening.

Good evening.

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[Helping the Doctor to take off his fur coat.] Good evening, Doctor.

[Warming his hands at the stove.] I should like another candle. [The sound of a barrel-organ is heard from the back room.] They're surely out of their senses in there.

[Who has opened the door of the back roam.] Will you just be quiet in there, please!

Mr. Gottwald, I believe?

My name is Gottwald.

She tried to drown herself, I hear.

She must have been driven to desperation. [A short pause.

[Going up to the bed and looking at her.] She seems to be talking in her sleep.

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Millions of little stars! [Dr. Wachler and Gottwald listen. The moonlight falls through the window and illumines the group.] Why are you pulling at my arms? Oh, oh! the pain is killing me.

[Carefully loosening her shirt at the throat.] Her whole body seems to be covered with scars.

[Who has returned.] So was her mother's as she lay in her coffin.

Pitiful! pitiful!

[In an altered stubborn tone.] I won't! I won't! I won't go home! I must go—to Mother Hollie^[2]—in the pond. Let me go, father. Ouf! what a smell! You've been drinking brandy again! Hark! how the wind roars in the wood! There was a tree blown down this morning on the hill. If only no fire breaks out! Unless the tailor has a stone in his pocket and an iron in his hand, the storm will ​sweep him away right over the mountains. Hark! hark to the storm!

Good evening, Sister. [The Sister nods.

Where is my mother? In heaven? Oh dear, so far, far away! [She opens her eyes, looks around bewildered, passes her hand over her eyes, and says, almost inaudibly:] Where—where am I?

[Bending over her.] Among kind people.

I'm thirsty.

Water.

Have you any pain anywhere? [Hannele shakes ​her head.] No? Oh, well then, there's not so much the matter with us!

Are you the Doctor?

Of course I am.

Then—then I must be ill.

A little; not very.

Do you want to make me well again?

[Rapidly examining her.] Have you a pain here? or there? Do you feel anything here? here? here? Don't look so frightened, I'm not going to hurt you. How is it here? Have you any pain here?

[Coming up to the bed again.] Answer the Doctor, Hannele!

[In a tons of intense entreaty, her voice trembling with tears.] Oh, dear Mr. Gottwald!

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Now attend to what the Doctor says and answer him nicely. [Hannele shakes her head.] Why won't you.

Because—because—I want so to go to mother.

[Touched, strokes her hair.] There, there now—you mustn't think of that.

[Beckons to Sister Martha.] A word with you, please.

[Ending his whispered conversation with Sister ​Martha.] I'll come again by-and-by, and meantime I'll send the medicine. [To Gottwald.] I hear they've arrested him at the Sword Inn.

At least so I heard them say.

[Putting on his fur coat. To Seidel.] Will you come with me to the druggist's?

[Anxiously.] What do you think of her, Doctor? [All three go out.]

Do you come from the Lord Jesus?

What do you say?

Do you come from the Lord Jesus?

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Don't you know me, Hannele? I'm Sister Martha, you know. You used to come to us, don't you remember? We used to pray together, and sing beautiful songs. Don't you remember?

[Nods joyfully.] Oh, the beautiful songs!

Now I'm going to nurse you, please God, until you're quite well again.

I don't want to be well again.

[With the bowl of milk, at her side.] The Doctor says that you're to take some milk, so as to get strong.

[Refusing it.] I don't want to get well again.

You don't want to get well again? Come now, just think a little. Wait a moment, let me tie up your hair for you. [She does so.]

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[Crying softly.] I won't get well again.

Why not?

I want so much—so much—to go to heaven.

That's not within our power, my dear child. We must wait till God calls us. But if you repent your sins——

[Eagerly.] Oh, Sister! I do repent them.

And believe in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Oh, I believe so firmly in my Saviour——

Then you can wait in peace and full assurance. Now I'll put your pillow right for you, and you'll go to sleep.

I can't sleep.

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Only try to.

Sister Martha!

Well!

Sister Martha! Are there sins—are there sins that can't be forgiven?

Now go to sleep Hannele. Don't excite yourself.

Oh, tell me, please, please tell me!

Well, yes, there are such sins—sins against the Holy Ghost.

Oh, if I should have committed one!

Oh, nonsense! It's only very, very wicked people that have done that—like Judas, who betrayed the Lord Jesus.

Yet it might be—it might be!

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Now you must sleep.

I'm so afraid.

You haven't the least reason to be.

What if I should have committed such a sin!

But you haven't done anything of the sort.

[Clinging to the Sister and staring into the darkness.] Oh, Sister, Sister!

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Sister!

What is it?

He's coming right in. Don't you hear?

I hear nothing at all.

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That's his voice—outside. Listen!

Who do you mean?

My father, my father? There he is!

Where?

Look there!

Where?

At the foot of the bed.

There's a cloak and hat hanging here. We'll take away the ugly things; we'll take them out to Father Pleschke. Now I'll get some water and make a cold compress for you. You'll let me leave you alone just one moment? But you must He quiet—quite still and quiet.

Oh, how stupid I am! It was only a cloak, was it, and a hat? ​

Now quite, quite still; and I'll be back immediately. [She goes, but has to turn back, for it is pitch dark in the passage.] I'll place the candle out here in the passage. [Again shaking her finger threateningly but kindly at Hannele.] Now quite, quite quiet.

[In a hoarse voice, full of suppressed fury.] Where ​are you? Where have you been, girl? What have you been doing? I'll teach you! I'll pay you out, trust me for that. What have you been saying to people? That I've beaten you and ill-used you, hey? Is that what you've told them? You're not my child. Come now, get up out of that? I've nothing to do with you. I could turn you out into the streets. Get up and light the fire!—do you hear me? I've taken you in out of pity and charity, and now you think you're to lie there and do nothing. Well, are you going to move? I'll beat you till, till——

I just went to fetch some water, and here she's ​gone and got out of bed. Do, Hedwig, please, come and help me!

Now, Hete, you had better be careful, or you'll do her an injury.

I believe—I believe there's something—something more than we think—the matter with the girl, Sister!

Maybe—maybe the girl's bewitched.

[Loudly.] She won't last long—take my word for it.

[Has put Hannele back into bed, with Hedwig's help.] Perhaps you're right, my man; but surely you can see we mustn't excite the poor child any more.

Well, we're not doing any harm.

[To Hanke.] You're a blockhead—just a blockhead—you're a blockhead, let me tell you—and nothing​—nothing else. Any child knows that a sick person—a sick person—mustn't be disturbed.

[Mimicking him.] A sick person—a sick person——

Now do, do go. I beg you to.

The sister's right. You'd better get out of this.

We'll go without telling, just when we want to.

I suppose we've got to sleep in the hen-house?

There'll be room for you—room for you—you know where. [The Paupers all go out.

[Opens her eyes apprehensively.] Has—has he gone.

The people have all gone. Did anything frighten you, Hannele?

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[Still apprehensive.] Has father gone?

He was never here.

Yes, Sister, he was.

You must have dreamed it.

[With a deep sigh, praying in a low voice.] Oh, dear Lord Jesus! oh, dear Lord Jesus! Oh, good, kind, blessed Lord Jesus, take me to Thee, oh, take me to Thee! [Changing her tone.]

I'm quite sure of it, Sister.

What are you sure of?

He has promised me. I shall go to heaven, he has promised me.

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H'm.

Do you know who?

Well!

[Whispering into the Sister's ear.] The dear Lord—Gottwald.

Now you must go to sleep, Hannele—you really must.

Sister, tell me—my Master, Mr. Gottwald—isn't he a handsome man? His name is Heinrich. Heinrich is a pretty name, isn't it? [Fervently.] You dear, sweet Heinrich! Sister, shall I tell you something? We're going to be married! Yes, yes, we two—my Master, Mr. Gottwald, and I:

He has a lovely beard. [In ecstasy.] His hair is like flowering clover. Hark! he's calling to me. Don't your hear?

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Go to sleep, Hannele, go to sleep; no one is calling.

It was the Lord Jesus. Hark! hark! Now he's calling to me again—"Hannele!" quite loud—"Hannele!" quite, quite clear. Come, come with me, Sister!

When God calls me, I shall be ready.

[Now again in the full moonlight, stretches forward her head, as if inhaling sweet odours.] Don't you smell anything, Sister?

No, Hannele.

Don't you smell the lilac-flower? [In an ever-increasing blissful ecstasy.] Oh, listen! oh, do listen! What can it be? [A sweet voice becomes audible, as if from a far distance.] Is it the angels? Don't you hear?

Yes, yes, I hear; but listen now, you must turn on your side and lie still, and sleep quietly till to-morrow morning.

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Can you sing it, too?

What, my child?

"Sleep, baby, sleep."

Do you want to hear it?

[Lies back in bed and strokes the Sister's hand.] Mother dear, sing it to me! mother dear, sing it to me!

Hannele!

[Also with her eyes closed.] Mother, dear little mother, is that you?

Yes. I have washed our dear Saviour's feet with my tears and dried them with the hairs of my head!

Do you bring me good tidings?

Yes.

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Do you come from far?

A hundred thousand miles through the night.

Mother, what do you look like?

Like the children of this world.

Your teeth are as lilies of the valley; your voice is like a peal of bells!

But its tones are not pure.

Mother, dear mother! how you shine in your beauty!

The angels in heaven are many hundred times fairer.

Why are you not as fair as they?

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I have suffered because of your suffering.

Little mother, stay with me!

[Rises.] I must go.

Is it beautiful where you are?

Wide, wide meadows, sheltered from the wind, shielded from storm and hail by the care of God.

Do you rest when you are weary?

Yes.

Have you food to eat when you are hungry?

I still my hunger with fruits and meat. I thirst, and I drink golden wine. [She recedes.

Are you going, mother?

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God calls me.

Does God call loud?

God calls loudly for me.

My heart is burnt up within me, mother!

God will cool it with roses and lilies.

Will God save me?

Do you know the flower that I hold in my hand?

A cowslip.

What do the people call it?

The key of heaven.

[Places it in Hannele's hand.] You are to keep it as a pledge from God. Farewell!

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Little mother, stay with me!

[Receding.] A little while, and ye shall not see me; and again a little while, and ye shall see me.

I am afraid.

[Receding still further.] As the wind scatters the white snow-dust on the mountain, so will God pursue them that persecute you.

Do not leave me.

The children of heaven are like the blue lightnings of the night.—Sleep!

[Opens her eyes, gazes enraptured at the Angels, and says in astonishment.] Angels! [With growing wonder and irrepressible joy, but still not quite free from doubt.] Angels!! [In an ecstasy of delight.] Angels!!!