JUST.
It is now going on for ten weeks since he rode master's last and only horse—to water.
FRAN.
And has not he come back yet? Oh! the rascal!
JUST.
The water may have washed the honest coachman away. Oh! he was a famous coachman! He had driven ten years in Vienna. My master will never get such another again. When the horses were in full gallop, he only had to say "Wo!" and there they stood, like a wall. Moreover, he was a finished horse-doctor!
FRAN.
I begin now to be anxious about the footman's promotion.
JUST.
No, no; there is no occasion for that. He has become a drummer in a garrison regiment.
FRAN.
I thought as much!
JUST.
Fritz chummed up with a scamp, never came home at night, made debts everywhere in master's name, and a thousand rascally tricks. In short, the Major saw that he was determined to rise in the world
(pantomimically imitating the act of hanging),
so he put him in the right road.
FRAN.
Oh! the stupid!
JUST.
Yet a perfect footman, there is no doubt of that. In running, my master could not catch him on his best horse if he gave him fifty paces; but on the other hand, Fritz could give the gallows a thousand paces, and, I bet my life, he would overhaul it. They were all great friends of yours, eh, young woman?… William and Philip, Martin and Fritz! Now, Just wishes you good day.
(Exit.)
SCENE III
Franziska, and afterwards the Landlord
FRAN. (looking after him seriously).
I deserve the hit! Thank you, Just. I undervalued honesty. I will not forget the lesson. Ah! our unfortunate Major!
(Turns round to enter her mistress' room, when the Landlord comes.)
LAND.
Wait a bit, my pretty maid.
FRAN.
I have not time now, Mr. Landlord.
LAND.
Only half a moment! No further tidings of the Major? That surely could not possibly be his leave-taking!
FRAN.
What could not?
LAND.
Has not our ladyship told you? When I left you, my pretty maid, below in the kitchen, I returned accidentally into this room!!!!!
FRAN.
Accidentally—with a view to listen a little.
LAND.
What, girl! how can you suspect me of that? There is nothing so bad in a landlord as curiosity. I had not been here long, when suddenly her ladyship's door burst open: the Major dashed out; the lady after him;
both in such a state of excitement; with looks—in attitudes—that must be seen to be understood. She seized hold of him; he tore himself away; she seized him again—"Tellheim." "Let me go, Madam." "Where?"
Thus he drew her as far as the staircase. I was really afraid he would drag her down; but he got away. The lady remained on the top step;
looked after him; called after him; wrung her hands. Suddenly she turned round; ran to the window; from the window to the staircase again; from the staircase into the room, backwards and forwards. There I stood; she passed me three times without seeing me. At length it seemed as if she saw me; but heaven defend us! I believe the lady took me for you. "Franziska," she cried, with her eyes fixed upon me, "am I happy now?" Then she looked straight up to the ceiling, and said again
–"Am I happy now?" Then she wiped the tears from her eyes, and smiled, and asked me again—"Franziska, am I happy now?" I really felt, I know not how. Then she ran to the door of her room, and turned round again towards me, saying—"Come, Franziska, whom do you pity now?" and with that she went in.
FRAN.
Oh! Mr. Landlord, you dreamt that.
LAND.
Dreamt! No, my pretty maid; one does not dream so minutely. Yes, what would not I give—I am not curious: but what would not I give—to have the key to it!
FRAN.
The key? Of our door? Mr. Landlord, that is inside; we took it in at night; we are timid.