Leonid Andreyev

“ JEANNE
Rest yourself, here, my child! Why should you leave? At night it is so terrible on the roads. There, in the dark air, bullets are buzzing instead of our dear bees; there wicked people, vicious beasts are roaming. And there is no one who can tell you, for there is no one who knows how to go to Lonua.
GIRL
Don't you know how I could find my way to Lonua?
PIERRE
Softly.
What is she asking?
EMIL GRELIEU
Oh, you may speak louder; she can hear as little as François. She is asking about the village which the Prussians have set on fire. ”

“ LAGARD
And what can we do with soldiers, Monsieur General?
COUNT CLAIRMONT
You are wrong, Lagard. With our little army there is still one possibility—to die as freemen die. But without an army we would have been bootblacks, Lagard!
LAGARD
Grumbling.
Well, I would not clean anybody's boots. Things are in bad shape, Grelieu, in very bad shape. And there is but one remedy left for us—. True, it is a terrible remedy.
EMIL GRELIEU
I know.
LAGARD
Yes? What is it?
EMIL GRELIEU
The dam.
Jeanne and Emil shudder and look at each other with terror in their eyes. ”

“ Nothing but the red rose and the distant, pale—very pale—blue sky....
EMIL GRELIEU
Pierre! Listen to me, my boy! People speak of this only at night, when they are alone with their souls—and she knows it, but you do not know it yet. Don't you know it, Jeanne?
JEANNE
Trembling, opening her eyes.
Yes, I know, Emil.
EMIL GRELIEU
The life of the poet does not belong to him. The roof over the heads of people, which shelters them—all that is a phantom for me, and my life does not belong to me. I am always far away, not here—I am always where I am not. ”

“ EMIL GRELIEU
He is dead, Jeanne. But I swear to you by God, Jeanne!—Belgium will live. Weep, sob, you are a mother. I too am crying with you—But I swear by God: Belgium will live! God has given me the light to see, and I can see. Songs will resound here. Jeanne! A new Spring will come here, the trees will be covered with blossoms—I swear to you, Jeanne, they will be covered with blossoms! And mothers will caress their children, and the sun will shine upon their heads, upon their golden-haired little heads! Jeanne! There will be no more bloodshed. I see a new world, Jeanne! ”

“ Suddenly an ominous silence follows the noise, and then the lone sound of the tolling bells.
MAURICE
Now they are quiet.... What does it mean?
FRANÇOIS
Nonsense, nonsense!
Infuriated.
You are stepping on the flower bed again. Get off! You have all lost your reason! Go, go! The Prussians!...
MAURICE
You have lost your reason!
FRANÇOIS
I am seventy years old, and you tell me about the Prussians. Go!
Again the shouting of the crowd is heard. Silvina, the chambermaid, runs out of the house and calls: "Monsieur Maurice!"
SILVINA
Please, come into the house. Madame Jeanne is calling you. ”

“ Death which makes people mute, which leaves the imprint of silence upon the bravest lips, restores the voice to the poet. Dead, I speak more loudly than alive. Dead, I am alive! Am I—just think of it, Pierre, my boy,—am I to fear death when in my most persistent searches I could not find the boundary between life and death, when in my feelings I mix life and death into one—as two strong, rare kinds of wine? Just think of it, my boy!
Silence. Emil Grelieu looks at his son, smiling. Pierre has covered his face with his hands. The woman is apparently calm. ”

“ JEANNE
There in the fields and in the ditches are the wounded. There the shadows of people are wandering about, but in their veins there is still warm blood. What will become of them? Oh, don't look at me like that, Emil; you had better not listen to what I am saying. I have spoken so only because my heart is wrung with pain—it isn't necessary to listen to me at all, Count.
Count Clairmont walks over to Grelieu's bed quickly and firmly. At first he speaks confusedly, seeking the right word; then he speaks ever more boldly and firmly. ”

“ MAURICE
They—the Prussians. Pierre will go now, and I will go—I will not stay away under any circumstances, understand? What will become of Belgium now?—it is hard to conceive it. They entered Belgium yesterday—do you understand—what scoundrels!
In the distance, along the narrow streets of the town, an uneasy sound of footsteps and wheels is growing rapidly. Distinct voices and outcries blend into a dull, suppressed, ominous noise, full of alarm. The tolling, as though tired, now subsides, now turns almost to a shriek. François tries vainly to hear something. ”

“ My God! They are tolling! They are crying! War! What war? What war? Eh, who is there—who is shouting "War!"?
The sound of the bells and the cries grows louder. Emil Grelieu appears, walking quickly in the alley.
EMIL GRELIEU
What are you shouting, François? Where is Maurice? No one is in the house.
FRANÇOIS
Is it war?
EMIL GRELIEU
Yes, yes, it is war. The Prussians have entered Belgium. But you don't hear anything.
FRANÇOIS
Painfully trying to catch the sounds.
I hear, I hear; are they killing?
EMIL GRELIEU
Yes, they are killing. The Prussians have entered Belgium. Where is Maurice? ”

“ EMIL GRELIEU
Yes.
MAURICE
Papa! Why do they hang such people as François? That is cruel and stupid. Forgive me for speaking so harshly. But need an old man love his fatherland less than I love it, for instance? The old people love it even more intensely. Let everyone fight as he can. I am not tiring you, am I? An old man came to us, he was very feeble, he asked for bullets—well, let them hang me too—I gave him bullets. A few of our regiment made sport of him, but he said: "If only one Prussian bullet will strike me, it means that the Prussians will have one bullet less." ”

“ EMIL GRELIEU
Smiling.
Very well.
JEANNE
Goes out singing in a low voice.
"Only the halo of the arts is crowning—law, liberty, and the King." Who is that? Ah, you! Look, Pierre, here is the girl you wished to see. Come in, come in, my dear child! Don't be afraid, come in! You know him. That's my husband. He is a very good man and will do you no harm. And this is my son, Pierre. Give him your hand.
A girl enters; she is frail, very pale, and beautiful. She wears a black dress, her hair is combed neatly, and she is modest in her demeanor. Her eyes reflect fright and sorrow. ”

“ JEANNE
Do you think so, Emil?
EMIL GRELIEU
Yes. It seems to me that I hear the sound of the water from that side.
All listen and look in the direction from which the noise came.
DOCTOR
Uneasily.
How unpleasant this is! We should have started out sooner. We are too late.
MAURICE
Father, it seems to me I hear voices. Listen—it sounds as though they are crying there. Many, many people. Father, the Prussians are crying. It is they!
A distant, dull roaring of a crowd is heard. Then the crash of shots resounds. Sobs of military horns. The searchlights are swaying from side to side. ”

“ Pierre, I cannot endure it any longer! I am suffocating from hatred and anger! Oh, weep, you German Nation—bitter will be the fate of your children, terrible will be your disgrace before the judgment of the free nations!
Curtain
SCENE III
Night. The dark silhouette of Emil Grelieu's villa stands out in the background. The gatekeeper's house is seen among the trees, a dim light in the window. At the cast-iron fence frightened women are huddled together, watching the fire in the distance. An alarming redness has covered the sky; only in the zenith is the sky dark. ”

“ Enter François. Sternly, without looking at anyone, he waters the flowers.
And what does he think? Look at him.
PIERRE
He can hardly hear anything. François!
EMIL GRELIEU
I don't know whether he hears anything or not. But there was a time when he did hear. He is silent, Pierre, and he furiously denies war. He denies it by work—he works alone in the garden as if nothing had happened. Our house is full of refugees. Mamma and everyone else in the house are busy, feeding them, washing the children—mamma is washing them—but he does not seem to notice anything. He denies war! ”

“ The sun is shining softly; there is in the air the bluish mist of a warm and quiet day, and all colors seem tenderly soft; only in the foreground the colors of the flowers stand out in sharp relief.
François is sitting and clipping roses at one of the flower beds. He is an old and deaf, stern Belgian, with long, gray hair. He holds in his mouth an earthen pipe. François is working. He does not hear the tolling of the bells. He is alone in the garden, and it seems to him that all is calm and quiet. ”

“ The German steel has already penetrated to the heart of the French land—and infuriated with pain, the French eagle is rising over the Germans' bayonets and is coming toward us! The noble knights of the sea—the British—are already rushing toward us, and to Belgium are their powerful arms stretched out over the abyss. ”

“ You are charged with a grave responsibility to your fatherland—to lift your hand against your own fatherland.
EMIL GRELIEU Have we no other defence?
Silence. All stand in poses of painful anxiety. Lagard dries his eyes and slowly answers with a sigh.
LAGARD
No.
GENERAL
No.
JEANNE
Shaking her head.
No.
COUNT CLAIRMONT
Rapidly.
We must gain time, Grelieu. By the power of all our lives, thrown in the fields, we cannot stop them.
Stamping his foot.
Time, time! We must steal from fate a small part of eternity—a few days, a week! They are hastening to us. The Russians are coming to us from the East. ”

“ PIERRE
François!
EMIL GRELIEU
Don't bother him. He wants to be crafty. Perhaps he hears us. You ask me what mother is thinking of. Do I know? Who can tell? You see that she is not here, and yet these are your last hours at home. Yes, in this house—I am speaking of the house. She is young and resolute as ever, she walks just as lightly and is just as clear-headed, but she is not here. She is simply not here, Pierre. ”

“ Dull sounds of cannonading are heard in the distance. All turn their eyes to the window.
EMIL GRELIEU
Is that a battle?
COUNT CLAIRMONT
Listening, calmly.
No, that is only the beginning. But tomorrow they will carry their devilish weapons past your house. Do you know they are real iron monsters, under whose weight our earth is quaking and groaning. They are moving slowly, like amphibia that have crawled out at night from the abyss—but they are moving! Another few days will pass, and they will crawl over to Antwerp, they will turn their jaws to the city, to the churches—Woe to Belgium, master! ”

“ The sun has already risen, but it is hidden behind the heavy mist and smoke.
A large room in Emil Grelieu's villa, which has been turned into a sickroom. There are two wounded there, Grelieu himself, with a serious wound in his shoulder, and his son Maurice, with a light wound on his right arm. The large window, covered with half transparent curtains, admits a faint bluish light. The wounded appear to be asleep. In an armchair at the bedside of Grelieu there is a motionless figure in white, Jeanne. ”

“ JEANNE
What a foolish little boy you are, Maurice.
MAURICE
Monsieur Langloi said that in three days from now I may remove my bandage. Just think of it, in three days I shall be able to take up my gun again!... Oh, who is that? Look, who is that?
All near the automobile assume defensive positions. The chauffeur and the doctor draw their revolvers. A figure appears from the field, approaching from one of the ditches. A peasant, wounded in the leg, comes up slowly, leaning upon a cane. ”

“ He carries himself very modestly, almost bashfully, but overcoming his first uneasiness, he speaks warmly and powerfully and freely. His gestures are swift. All treat him with profound respect.
Lagard is a strong old man with a leonine gray head. He speaks simply, his gestures are calm and resolute. It is evident that he is in the habit of speaking from a platform.
Jeanne holds a large bouquet of flowers in her hands. Count Clairmont walks directly toward Grelieu's bedside. ”

“ The reflection of the fire falls upon objects and people, casting strange shadows against the mirrors of the mute and dark villa. The voices sound muffled and timid; there are frequent pauses and prolonged sighs. ”

“ It is necessary for all to understand that the end of Jewish sufferings is the beginning of our self-respect, without which Russia cannot live. The dark days of the war will pass and the German barbarians' of today will once more become cultured Germans whose voice will again be heard throughout the world. ”

“ But what if he should come in? Thank you, von Ritzau. What a stifling night! Not a breath of pure air enters the lungs. The air is poisoned with the smell of smoke. We must invent something against this obnoxious odor. ”

“ Maurice has moved aside and, as before, stands at attention. Jeanne stands a little distance away from him, with her shoulder leaning against the wall, her beautiful pale head thrown back. Lagard is sitting at the bedside as before, stroking his gray, disheveled beard. The General is absorbed in gloomy thoughts.
COUNT CLAIRMONT
Turning around resolutely.
I am a peaceful man, but I can understand why people take up arms. Arms! That means a sword, a gun, explosive contrivances. That is fire. Fire is killing people, but at the same time it also gives light. Fire cleanses. ”

“ It keeps on all night like this—it is burning and burning! And in the daytime it will again be hard to see things on account of the smoke; and the bread will smell of burning! What is going on there?
FOURTH WOMAN
They have killed Monsieur Pierre.
SECOND WOMAN
They have killed him? Killed him?
SILVINA
You must not speak of it! My God, whither should I go! I cannot bear this. I cannot understand it!
Weeps softly.
FOURTH WOMAN
They say there are twenty millions of them, and they have already set Paris on fire. They say they have cannon which can hit a hundred kilometers away. ”

“ He delineates the tragedy of Belgium as reflected in the home of the foremost Belgian poet and thinker—regarded as the conscience of the Belgian nation.
Leonid Andreyev feels deeply and keenly for the oppressed and weaker nationalities. He has depicted the victims of this war with profound sympathy,—the Belgians, and in another literary masterpiece he analyzed the sufferings of the Jews in Russia as a result of this war. He described vividly the sense of shame of the Russian people on account of the Russian official anti-Jewish policies. ”