Oregon Ballet Theatre is seeking professional classical dancers to fill positions at all levels Casting a diverse company. Want to see your job listed here? Click here to post your opportunity. Gain full access to show guides, character breakdowns, auditions, monologues and more! A Children's Tragedy Play Writer:. Toggle navigation Choose Section. Pandora's Box and Earth-Spirit. The version in this volume, Lulu: A Monster Tragedy, is based on the first manuscript, presenting the original sexually voracious heroine to a British audience for the first time.
The volume also contains Spring Awakening, "a work of great compassion that still has a lot to teach us about the dangers of battening down adolescent sex The translation of Spring Awakening "scrupulously faithful both to Wedekind's irony and his poetry" The Times was commissioned by the National Theatre and that of Lulu: A Monster Tragedy "the Bonds' version is sharper and funnier than its predecessors" Guardian was toured nationally.
Both plays are complemented by the translators' historically illuminating introductions. How I got outhow I came down the steps, I don't know. Oh, certainly, Hans, certainly! Then you can't have read correctly. Counting in the dunce's stool, we, with you and Robert, make sixty-one, and the upper class-room cannot accommodate more than sixty. I read it right enough. I've looked into it too deeply this time for that. I bet five marks that you lose your place. I won't rob you. I'd like to see you shoot yourself! Do you believe his nonsense? What's that to you? Let them chatter, Moritz! Come on, let's go to town.
It is inexplicable to me, my dear colleague, how the best of my scholars can fail the very worst of all. To me, also, professor. Is it really you, Wendla? If I didn't know you were Wendla Bergmann, I would take you for a dryad, fallen out of your tree. No, no, I am Wendla Bergmann. I followed my thoughts. At first she intended coming along herself, but at the last moment Aunt Bauer dropped in, and she doesn't like to climb. Have you found your waldmeister?
Down there under the beach it grows as thick as meadow clover.
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Just now I am looking for a way out. I seem to have lost the path. Can you tell me what time it is?
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Just a little after half-past four. When do they expect you? I thought it was later. I lay dreaming for a long time on the moss by the brook. The time went by so fast, I feared it was already evening. If nobody is waiting for you, let us linger here a little longer. Under the oak tree there is my favorite place. If one leans one's head back against the trunk and looks up through the branches at the sky, one becomes hypnotized. The ground is warm yet from the morning sun. But I must be home at five o'clock.
We'll go together, then. I'll take the basket and we'll beat our way through the bushes, so that in ten minutes we'll be on the bridge! What do you want to ask me, Melchior? I've heard, Wendla, that you visit poor people's houses. You take them food and clothes and money also. Do you do that of your own free will, or does your mother send you?
Mother sends me mostly. They are families of day laborers that have too many children. Often the husband can't find work and then they freeze and go hungry. We have a lot of things which were laid away long ago in our closets and wardrobes and which are no longer needed.
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Do you go willingly or unwillingly, when your mother sends you? Oh, I love to go! But the children are dirty, the women are sick, the houses are full of filth, the men hate you because you don't work WENDLA. That's not true, Melchior. And if it were true, I'd go just the same! Why just the same, Wendla? I'd go just the same! It would make me all the happier to be able to help them.
Then you go to see the poor because it makes you happy? I go to them because they are poor. But if it weren't a pleasure to you, you wouldn't go? Can I help it that it makes me happy? And because of it you expect to go to heaven! So it's true, then, that which has given me no peace for a month past! Oh, surely it would give you the greatest pleasure!
And, therefore, he must suffer everlasting death. I'll write a paper on it and send it to Pastor Kahlbauch. He is the cause of it. Why did he fool us with the joy of good works. Why don't you tell your trouble to your dear parents? Let yourself be confirmed, it won't cost you your head. If it weren't for our horrid white dresses and your long trousers one might be more spiritual.
There is no sacrifice! There is no self-denial! I see the good rejoice in their hearts, I see the evil tremble and groan--I see you, Wendla Bergmann, shake your locks and laugh while I am as melancholy as an outlaw. With your eyes open? I dreamed I was a poor, poor beggar girl, who was turned out in the street at five o'clock in the morning. I had to beg the whole long day in storm and bad weather from rough, hard-hearted people. I know that, Wendla. You have the silly children's stories to thank for that. Believe me, such brutal men exist no longer. Oh yes, Melchior, you're mistaken.
Martha Bessel is beaten night after night, so that one sees the marks of it the next day. Oh, but it must hurt! It makes one boiling hot when she tells it. I'm so frightfully sorry for her that I often cry over it in my pillows at night. For months I've been thinking how one can help her.
One should complain of her father at once. Then the child would be taken away from him. I, Melchior, have never been beaten in my lifenot a single time. I can hardly imagine what it means to be beaten. I have beaten myself in order to see how one felt then in one's heartIt must be a gruesome feeling. I don't believe a child is better for it. With this switch, for instance! That would draw blood!
Would you like to beat me with it once? What's the matter with you, Wendla?
I won't beat you. Not if I allow you? Not even if I ask you, Melchior? Are you out of your senses? I've never been beaten in my life! I'll teach you to say please! Oh, Lord, I don't notice it in the least! Then strike me on my legs! Wait, witch, I'll flog Satan out of you! He pays no attention to this, but falls upon her as if he were crazy, while the tears stream heavily down his cheeks. Presently he springs away, holds both hands to his temples and rushes into the depths of the wood crying out in anguish of soul.
The window is open, a lamp burns on the table. Now I'm quite gay again, only a little bit excited. I'm astonished that the pronunciation of the ancient tongue doesn't give me the earache. My pen made a blot in the book. The lamp was smoking when Mathilde woke me; the blackbirds in the elder bushes under the window were chirping so happilyand I felt so inexpressibly melancholy.
I put on my collar and passed the brush through my hair. May I roll you a cigarette? Thanks, I don't smoke. I will work and work until my eyes fall out of my head. I have been first five times in this lamentable conflict, and from to-day it does not bother me! If he wants he can become a soldier, a cowboy or a sailor. If I fail, my father will feel the blow and Mamma will land in the madhouse. One can't live through a thing like that!
He passed me by, though to-day His aureole shines in the distance, so that I dare not lift my eyes by night or day. The natural consequence will be that I shall break my neck if I fall. Life is a worthless commonplace. It wouldn't have been a bad idea if I had hanged myself in the cradle. Your tea will do me good, Melchior! I feel so strangely spiritualized. Touch me once, please. I see,--I hear,--I feel, much more acutelyand yet everything seems like a dreamoh, so harmonious.
From out the bushes step indefinable figures that slip away in breathless officiousness through the clearings and then vanish in the twilight. It seems to me as if a counsel were to be held under the chestnut tree. Let's wait until we have drunk our tea. The leaves whisper so busily.
Only, unfortunately, she came into the world without a head. She could not eat, not drink, not kiss. She could only communicate with her courtiers by using her soft little hand. With her dainty feet she stamped declarations of war and orders for executions. Then, one day, she was besieged by a King, who, by chance, had two heads, which, year in and year out, disputed with one another so violently that neither could get a word in edgewise.
The Court Conjurer-in-chief took off the smallest of these heads and set it upon the Queen's body. And, behold, it became her extraordinarily well! Therefore, the King and the Queen were married, and the two heads disputed no longer, but kissed each other upon the brow, the cheeks and the mouth, and lived thereafter through long, long years of joy and peace. Since vacation I can't get the headless Queen out of my mind. When I see a pretty girl, I see her without a headand then presently, I, myself appear to be the headless Queen.
Here, children, here's a mouthful for you. Good-evening, Herr Stiefel, how are you? Thank you, Frau Gabor. But you don't look very gooddon't you feel well? It's not worth mentioning. I went to bed somewhat too late last night. Only think, he worked all through the night. You shouldn't do such things, Herr Stiefel. You ought to take care of yourself. Think of your health.
Don't set your school above your health. Take plenty of walks in the fresh air. At your age, that is more important than a correct use of middle high German. I will go walking. One can be industrious while one is taking a walk. Why didn't I think of that myself! You can do your writing here; that will make it easier for both of us. Here is the beadle's report. See that the matter is cleared up once for all! The whole class will attend the burial. What book is that you have, Melchior?
Have you read it yet? Not to the end. We're just at the Walpurgisnacht. If I were you I should have waited for one or two years. I know of no book, Mamma, in which I have found so much beauty.
Spring Awakening: A Children's Tragedy - Frank Wedekind - Google Книги
Why shouldn't I read it? Because you can't understand it. You can't know that, Mamma. We always read together; that helps our understanding wonderfully. You are old enough, Melchior, to be able to know what is good and what is bad for you. Do what you think best for yourself. I should be the first to acknowledge your right in this respect, because you have never given me a reason to have to deny you anything. I only want to warn you that even the best can do one harm when one isn't ripe enough in years to receive it properly.
I shall be in my bedroom. Your Mamma means the story of Gretchen. Weren't we discussing it just a moment ago! Faust himself cannot have deserted her in cold blood! The masterpiece does not end with this infamous action! Gretchen might have died of a broken heart for all I care. To be frank with you, Melchior, I have almost the same feeling since I read your explanation.
I fastened the door and flew through the flaming lines as a frightened owl flies through a burning woodI believe I read most of it with my eyes shut. Your explanation brought up a host of dim recollections, which affected me as a song of his childhood affects a man on his deathbed when heard from the lips of another. I felt the most vehement pity over what you wrote about maidens. I shall never lose that sensation. Believe me, Melchior, to suffer a wrong is sweeter than to do a wrong.
To be overcome by such a sweet wrong and still be blameless seems to me the fullness of earthly bliss. I don't want my bliss as alms! I don't want anything for which I don't have to fight! Is it enjoyable then, Melchior? The maiden controls herself, thanks to her self-denial. She keeps herself free from every bitterness until the last moment, in order that she may see the heavens open over her in an instant. The maiden fears hell even at the moment that she perceives a blooming paradise.
Her feeling is as pure as a mountain spring. The maiden holds a cup over which no earthly breath has blown as yet; a nectar chalice, the contents of which is spilled when it flames and flares. You can think what you like about it, but keep your thoughts to yourselfI don't like to think about it.
Her face is beaming.
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She is without a hat, wears a mantilla on her head and has a basket on her arm. You are up already, child? Now, that is nice of you! You have been out already? You must take her this basket! Only think, Wendla, last night the stork paid her a visit and brought her a little baby boy! A fine little boy! I must see him, Mother. That makes me an aunt for the third timeaunt to a little girl and two little boys!
And what little boys! Were you there when he brought him? He had just flown away again. Why couldn't you have been a little earlier, Mother? I almost believe he brought you something, tooa breastpin or something. It's really a shame! But, I tell you, he brought you a breastpin! Then be happy, child. What do you want besides? I would have liked so much to have known whether he flew through the window or down the chimney. You must ask Ina. You must ask Ina that, dear heart!
Ina will tell you that fast enough. Ina talked with him for a whole half hour. I will ask Ina when I get there. Now don't forget, sweet angel! I'm interested myself to know if he came in through the window or by the chimney. Or hadn't I better ask the chimney-sweep? Not the chimney-sweep, child; not the chimney-sweep. What does the chimney-sweep know about the stork! He'd tell you a lot of foolishness he didn't believe himselfWhawhat are you staring at down there in the street?
A man, Mother,three times as big as an ox! You are, and always will be a foolish child! I wonder when you will understand things. I've given up hope of you. So have I, Mother dear, so have I. It's a sad thing about my understanding. Whom in the world should I ask but you! Please tell me, dear Mother! Tell me, dear Mother! I'm ashamed for myself. Don't scold me for asking you about it. Give me an answerHow does it happen?
Lord, child, but you are peculiar! But why not, Mother? OO God protect me! I'll goAnd suppose your child went and asked the chimney-sweep? But that would be madness! I'll tell you everythingO Almighty Goodness! Tell me to-day, Mother; tell me now! I can't do it, Wendla.
Spring Awakening: A Children's Tragedy
Oh, why can't you, Mother dear! You can cover my head with your apron and talk and talk, as if you were entirely alone in the room. I won't move, I won't cry, I will bear all patiently, no matter what may come. Heaven knows, Wendla, that I am not to blame! I will tell you, child, how you came into this world. I deserve to be put into prisonto have you taken from me. In order to have a childdo you understand me, Wendla? Quick, Mother, I can't stand it much longer.
In order to have a childone must love--the man--to whom one is married--love him, I tell you--as one can only love a man! One must love him so much with one's whole heart, so--so that one can't describe it! One must love him, Wendla, as you at your age are still unable to loveNow you know it!
Now you know what an ordeal awaits you! And that is all? As true as God helps me! You will get chocolate and cakes there. Did you get meat for lunch, Mother? The Good God protect and bless youI will find an opportunity to add a handbreadth of flounces to the bottom. Wilt thou not visit me for awhile in my dreams? I will receive thee with widely open arms and will kiss thee until thou art breathless. Thou drawest me onward as the enchanted princess in her deserted castle. The thought of my lonely nights is strangling me. I swear to thee, child, on my soul, that it is not satiety which rules me.
Who could ever boast of being satiated of thee! But thou suckest the marrow from my bones, thou bendest my back, thou robbest my youthful eyes of their last spark of brilliancy. And I have won the victory. Suppose I count themall those who sleep, with whom I have fought the same battle here Psyche by Thumann--another bequest from the spindle-shanked Mademoiselle Angelique, that rattlesnake in the paradise of my childhood; Io by Corregio; Galathea by Lossow; then a Cupid by Bouguereau; Ada by J. Let that be a consolation unto thee, and seek not to increase my torments at this enormity by that fleeting look.
Thou diest not for thy sins, thou diest on account of mine! I believe the combined sufferings of his murdered wives did not equal the torments he underwent each time he strangled one of them. But my thoughts will become more peaceful, my body will strengthen itself, when thou, thou little devil, residest no longer in the red satin padding of my jewel case. But a quarter of a year more, perhaps thy unveiled charms, sweet soul, would begin to consume my poor head as the sun does a pat of butter. It is high time to declare the divorce from bed and board. I feel a Heliogablus within me?
Maiden, maiden, why dost thou press thy knees together? Doest thou not guess that only thy chastity begets my debauchery? Agnes also died for her reserve and was not half as naked as thou! It is the cause! Melchior lies on his back in the fresh hay. Wendla comes up the ladder. Here's where you've hid yourself? The wagon is outside again. There's a storm coming up. Go away from me! What's the matter with you?
I'll throw you down on the floor below. Now for certain I'm not going. Suppose we do get wet to the skin, what difference will that make to us! The hay smells so fine. Don't kiss me, Melchior! People lovewhen they kissDon't, don't! Oh, believe me, there's no such thing as love!
Everything is selfishness, everything is egotism! I cannot furnish you with the necessary amount for the voyage to America--I give you my word of honor. In the first place, I have not that much to my credit, and in the second place, if I had, it would be the greatest sin imaginable for me to put into your hands the means of accomplishing such an ill-considered measure. You will be doing me a bitter wrong, Herr Stiefel, if you see a sign of lack of love in my refusal.
On the contrary, it would be the greatest neglect of my duty as your motherly friend were I to allow myself to be affected by your temporary lack of determination, so that I also lost my head and blindly followed my first fleeting impulse. I am very ready--in case you desire it--to write to your parents. I should seek to convince your parents that you have done what you could during this quarter, that you have exhausted your strength, that a rigorous judgment of your case would not only be inadvisable, but might be in the greatest degree prejudicial to your mental and bodily health.
That you imply a threat to take your own life in case flight is impossible for you, to speak plainly, has somewhat surprised me. No matter how undeserving is a misfortune, Herr Stiefel, one should never choose improper means to escape it. The way in which you, to whom I have always done only good, want to make me responsible for a possible frightful action on your part, has something about it which, in the eyes of an evil-thinking person, might be misconstrued very easily.
I must confess that this outbreak of yours--you who know so well what one owes to oneself--is the last thing for which I was prepared. However, I cherish the strong conviction that you are laboring yet too much under the shock of your first fright to be able to understand completely your action. And, therefore, I hope with confidence that these words of mine will find you already in better spirits. Take up the matter as it stands. In my opinion it is unwise to judge a young man by his school record.
We have too many examples of bad students becoming distinguished men, and, on the other hand, of brilliant students not being at all remarkable in life. At any rate, I can assure you that your misfortune, as far as it lies with me, shall make no difference in your association with Melchior. On the contrary, it will afford me the greatest pleasure to see my son going with a young man who, let the world judge him as it will, is able to win my fullest sympathy.
And, therefore, hold your head high, Herr Stiefel! If all of us had recourse to dagger or poison in such cases, there would soon be no men left in the world. Why have you slipped out of the room? Light clouds in the sky. The path straggles through low bushes and coarse grass. The flow of the stream is heard in the distance. Another may be able to climb to the top. I pull the door to behind me and step into the open.
I haven't succeeded in forcing my way. How shall I force my way now! Let them make out of the thing what they will. I have been forced. At the same time, the worst must fall upon them. They were old enough to know what they were doing. I was a weakling when I came into the worldor else I would have been wise enough to become another being. Why should I be forced to pay for the fact that the others were here already! I must have fallen on my headIf anybody makes me a present of a mad dog I'll give him back a mad dog. And if he won't take back his mad dog, then I am human and I must have fallen on my head!