bel
8
5. B1
box 10/3
In treatedl ren an Homunig Tron hn dr
Pexpounding his views upon the science of love-making.
Love should not be treated as a grand passion, he says,
for it is then exciting, injurious, even deadly; love for
a roung man should be a recreation pure and simple;
above all, a liaison with a married woman should be
avoided, a sensible man permitting himself only flirta¬
tions with young girls who demanded nothing more
than he chose to give. Theodor selects his words with
direct intention, for his friend is deeply entangled in a
love affair with a married woman who loves him pas¬
sionately—too passionately, and he is beginning to
writhe under the chains with which he has bound him¬
self. Theodor has invited to an improvised supper his
friend“ Mizi, a vivacious young person from a mil¬
linery establishment, and her friend Christine, a gentle,
rather sentimental girl of virtuous character, who has
expended the best she has to give upon Lobheimer.
The two girls presently arrive in Fritz’s rooms—Mizi
the personification of animal spirits and“cheeky“
good-comradeship, in the gavest of costumes; Christine
shy but loving, her beauty being set off by a simple
dress. The ladies arrange the supper-table, the
men providing the eatables and wines, and soon
all is joy and convivality. After supper a
little freedom in the matter of kisses is per¬
mitted, and Fritz sits down to play a waltz for
Mizi and her friend, Christine bending over the piano
with no eyes but for him. She tells him under cover of.
the soft music what he is to her, how his love for her
has beautified her life; and Lobheimer almost feels as
if he loves her indeed, so soothing is her gentle, tender
nature after the wild passion of the riper woman.
Suddenly the gay company are interrupted by the
ringing of the door bell; Lobheimer, looking from the.
window recognises the husband he has wronged.
Hurriedly acquainting his friends with thefact he sends
them all into another room, and admits his late visitor.
Ashort scene pregnant with meaning follows; the men
exchange but few sentences; the husband has found
Lobheimer’s letters—which he brings him¬in his wife's¬
possession and is aware of his dishonour. He does not
wish the letters to be found“ afterwards,' he says, and
Fritz understands, and places himself at the disposal of
the man he has betrayed. The duel will take place in
two days; and the interview ends with the repression
of feeling with which it commenced. Lobheimer recalls
his friends and endeavours to act as if nothing had hap¬
pened, but his wonted spirits will not come at his
W
bidding, and the company soon disperse. Theodor,
being requested by his friend to return, does so, and
reluctantly undertakes the office of second.
The second act shows us Christine’s home, and intro¬
duces her father—first violin at one of thetheatres. Old
Weiring is a character in his way, and a philosopher;
he contends that the only things worth having in later
life are the “remembrances, and would rather his child
should love under any conditions than that she should
have no sweet memories in her old age. So he is later
on neither surprised nor grieved at Christine’s love for
Lobheimer, and calmly receives all the insinuations of
a mischief-making neigbbour, who tries to calumniate
his daughter. Christine herself watches all day for her
lover, who has promised to come; she is alternately
hopeful and despairing, for it is late in the evening
when he arrives. He tells her he will be absent for a
time—that he is going a journey, and in the moment of
farewell, with a prevision of his end upon him, he really
loves the girl who has given him her life. He promises
to write to her and then, with a heavy heart, goes.
The third act contains some painfully impressive
scenes; Christine waits and watches in vain for some
token from her lover, but her father, learning the
truth, endeavours to comfort her. His words lead her
to believe Lobheimer has deserted her; and she
demands the truth from him. Theodor comes as she
is in the act of leaving for Lobheimer’s house, and
brings the news of his death. Gradually it becomes
clear to Christine that the man she loved has been
killed by the man he had betrayed; that she had never
really possessed his heart, and rhe gentle girl is in that
moment a passionate woman. She at least will go to
her dead lover to say farewell, she avows, and then
learns that he was buried that morning. His parents.
his friends, and relations were present at the funeral,
only she who had so blindly loved him had known
nothing of it, and he had left no written or spoken mes¬
1*
sage for her. Wild with grief and the bitter conscious¬
nessthat she was“ less than nothing' to him, she breaks
from the detaining hands of her father and rushes froto
the house. The old man does not tiy to follow her; he
is weak and powerless to help her. He sits down alone
in his despair, and cries,“ She will never return, never
again! The audience were profoundly moved, a fact
mostly due to the po##rful acting of Frau Sorma in
the röle of Christine and of Herrn Reicher as old
Weiring; and author andartists were much applauded.
Herrn Rittner and Jarno played their respective parts
in the best manner; Herr Nissen was excellent in the
5o
short but effective challenge scene; and Frau Nissen¬
Schneider was charming and vivacious as the frivolous
little milliner.
Preceding the Crama Heinrich von Kleist’s clever and
ever-popular little comedy Der Zerbrochene Krug was
given, producing the customary hearty laughter. Herr
Hermann Müller excelled himself in the chief röle of
Adam, the village magistrate, and special commenda¬
—
tion must be allowed to Mesers Fischer and Biensfeldt
as Licht, themagistrate's elerk, and Rüprecht- the
—
peasant. —
M h W
8
5. B1
box 10/3
In treatedl ren an Homunig Tron hn dr
Pexpounding his views upon the science of love-making.
Love should not be treated as a grand passion, he says,
for it is then exciting, injurious, even deadly; love for
a roung man should be a recreation pure and simple;
above all, a liaison with a married woman should be
avoided, a sensible man permitting himself only flirta¬
tions with young girls who demanded nothing more
than he chose to give. Theodor selects his words with
direct intention, for his friend is deeply entangled in a
love affair with a married woman who loves him pas¬
sionately—too passionately, and he is beginning to
writhe under the chains with which he has bound him¬
self. Theodor has invited to an improvised supper his
friend“ Mizi, a vivacious young person from a mil¬
linery establishment, and her friend Christine, a gentle,
rather sentimental girl of virtuous character, who has
expended the best she has to give upon Lobheimer.
The two girls presently arrive in Fritz’s rooms—Mizi
the personification of animal spirits and“cheeky“
good-comradeship, in the gavest of costumes; Christine
shy but loving, her beauty being set off by a simple
dress. The ladies arrange the supper-table, the
men providing the eatables and wines, and soon
all is joy and convivality. After supper a
little freedom in the matter of kisses is per¬
mitted, and Fritz sits down to play a waltz for
Mizi and her friend, Christine bending over the piano
with no eyes but for him. She tells him under cover of.
the soft music what he is to her, how his love for her
has beautified her life; and Lobheimer almost feels as
if he loves her indeed, so soothing is her gentle, tender
nature after the wild passion of the riper woman.
Suddenly the gay company are interrupted by the
ringing of the door bell; Lobheimer, looking from the.
window recognises the husband he has wronged.
Hurriedly acquainting his friends with thefact he sends
them all into another room, and admits his late visitor.
Ashort scene pregnant with meaning follows; the men
exchange but few sentences; the husband has found
Lobheimer’s letters—which he brings him¬in his wife's¬
possession and is aware of his dishonour. He does not
wish the letters to be found“ afterwards,' he says, and
Fritz understands, and places himself at the disposal of
the man he has betrayed. The duel will take place in
two days; and the interview ends with the repression
of feeling with which it commenced. Lobheimer recalls
his friends and endeavours to act as if nothing had hap¬
pened, but his wonted spirits will not come at his
W
bidding, and the company soon disperse. Theodor,
being requested by his friend to return, does so, and
reluctantly undertakes the office of second.
The second act shows us Christine’s home, and intro¬
duces her father—first violin at one of thetheatres. Old
Weiring is a character in his way, and a philosopher;
he contends that the only things worth having in later
life are the “remembrances, and would rather his child
should love under any conditions than that she should
have no sweet memories in her old age. So he is later
on neither surprised nor grieved at Christine’s love for
Lobheimer, and calmly receives all the insinuations of
a mischief-making neigbbour, who tries to calumniate
his daughter. Christine herself watches all day for her
lover, who has promised to come; she is alternately
hopeful and despairing, for it is late in the evening
when he arrives. He tells her he will be absent for a
time—that he is going a journey, and in the moment of
farewell, with a prevision of his end upon him, he really
loves the girl who has given him her life. He promises
to write to her and then, with a heavy heart, goes.
The third act contains some painfully impressive
scenes; Christine waits and watches in vain for some
token from her lover, but her father, learning the
truth, endeavours to comfort her. His words lead her
to believe Lobheimer has deserted her; and she
demands the truth from him. Theodor comes as she
is in the act of leaving for Lobheimer’s house, and
brings the news of his death. Gradually it becomes
clear to Christine that the man she loved has been
killed by the man he had betrayed; that she had never
really possessed his heart, and rhe gentle girl is in that
moment a passionate woman. She at least will go to
her dead lover to say farewell, she avows, and then
learns that he was buried that morning. His parents.
his friends, and relations were present at the funeral,
only she who had so blindly loved him had known
nothing of it, and he had left no written or spoken mes¬
1*
sage for her. Wild with grief and the bitter conscious¬
nessthat she was“ less than nothing' to him, she breaks
from the detaining hands of her father and rushes froto
the house. The old man does not tiy to follow her; he
is weak and powerless to help her. He sits down alone
in his despair, and cries,“ She will never return, never
again! The audience were profoundly moved, a fact
mostly due to the po##rful acting of Frau Sorma in
the röle of Christine and of Herrn Reicher as old
Weiring; and author andartists were much applauded.
Herrn Rittner and Jarno played their respective parts
in the best manner; Herr Nissen was excellent in the
5o
short but effective challenge scene; and Frau Nissen¬
Schneider was charming and vivacious as the frivolous
little milliner.
Preceding the Crama Heinrich von Kleist’s clever and
ever-popular little comedy Der Zerbrochene Krug was
given, producing the customary hearty laughter. Herr
Hermann Müller excelled himself in the chief röle of
Adam, the village magistrate, and special commenda¬
—
tion must be allowed to Mesers Fischer and Biensfeldt
as Licht, themagistrate's elerk, and Rüprecht- the
—
peasant. —
M h W