Richard.

(_Making a perceptible effort to change the conversation_.) My dear Countess, no one ever ventures to dispute your statements. But there is one family about which I want to say a word and that is the one we are in. (_Rising_.) I drink to the house of Kellinghausen!

The Others.

Hear--hear!

Richard.

The house of Kellinghausen! As I look back over my life, I don't know how to sum up all I owe to it. (_He turns to_ Beata.) To you, my dear friend----

Kellinghausen (_with forced gaiety_).

Is this a settlement in full, my dear fellow?

Richard.

(_Taken aback, but recovering himself instantly_.) You're right, Michael. There's no use trying; but there's something I want to say to you.

Kellinghausen.

Hear! hear!

Richard (_to the others_).

Since yesterday, you all know what I owe him. My success is his doing, all his doing. If I've gained my end, if I've reached the goal at last, it's to Kellinghausen I owe it. Here's to my good friend and yours!

The Others.

Hear! Hear! (_They clink their gla.s.ses_.)

Kellinghausen.

(_With a strained laugh, as he and_ Richard _touch gla.s.ses_.) You might have left that out.

Richard.

I should have written it if I hadn't said it.

Kellinghausen (_still on his feet_).

Gentlemen--Beata--I may speak for all of you, I believe? I think our friend Volkerlingk proved conclusively yesterday that if he has taken my place it is because he has the best right to it. (_On the verge of an outburst_.) A better right to it--than-- (_He is checked by a terrified glance from_ Beata, _who utters a low exclamation_.) Well--well--I'm not much of a speech-maker.--Gentlemen--Beata--long life to our friend Volkerlingk--long life to my successor!

Beata.

(_In a low voice, while the others gather about_ Richard.) Long life to him! (_She presses her hand to her heart, and rests heavily against the arm of her chair_.)

Prince (_to_ Kellinghausen).

Is anything wrong with the Countess?

Kellinghausen.

Beata!

Beata (_raising herself with a smile_).

Yes?

Kellinghausen.

Would you not rather go into the drawing-room? You look tired. (_She shakes her head_.)

Richard.

(_In a formal tone, with a glance at_ Michael.) We all beg of you, Countess----

Beata.

(_Looking from one to the other with growing apprehension_.) No--no--no--I'm quite--quite--on the contrary--_I_ have a toast to propose. (Richard _makes a startled gesture_.) Yes--a toast of my own!

But please all sit down first----

Prince.

Woman disposes!

Kellinghausen.

Beata, you are overtaxing yourself. Be careful.

Beata.

My dear friends, you all go on wishing each other a long life but which of us is really alive? Which of us really dares to live? Somewhere, far off in the distance, we catch a glimpse of life--but we hide our eyes and shrink away from it like transgressors. And that's our nearest approach to living! Do you really think you're alive--any one of you?

Or do you think I am? (_She springs up with an inspired look_.) But I, at least--I--whose whole life is one long struggle against death--I who never sleep, who hardly breathe, who barely stand--I at least know how to laugh, how to love life and be thankful for it! (_She staggers to her feet, raising her gla.s.s, her voice no more than a hoa.r.s.e whisper_.) And as the only living soul among you, I drink to the joy of living!

The Others (_holding out their gla.s.ses_).

Good! Good! Bravo!

Beata.

(_Draws a deep breath, sets down her gla.s.s, and looks about her confusedly. Her eyes rest on_ Richard, _and then turn to_ Michael, _to whom she speaks_.) I think I will take your advice and go into the other room for a little while. (_She rises with an effort_.)

Kellinghausen.

There, Beata! I warned you.

Baron Ludwig (_offering her his arm_).