Effi Briest Page #8

addressed appreciative words...

to the IoveIy young woman,

of whom he had heard so much.

Well then...

Schwalbach to begin with, let's say...

three weeks.

Then the same length of time in Ems.

During the cure in Ems,

your husband may join you.

ln other words...

three weeks' separation.

That's the best l can do for you, lnnstetten.

Tell me, Roswitha...

you're a Catholic.

Don't you ever go to confession?

No.

Why not?

l used to go.

But l didn't confess the important things.

Didn't you ever feel it a relief...

to be able to unburden your soul?

No, ma'am.

l was afraid...

when my father went for me

with the red-hot iron.

Yes...

l was scared to death...

but it wasn't more than that.

You have no fear of God?

No, ma'am.

lf you feared your father as much l did...

you wouldn't be so afraid of God.

l always thought God was good...

and would help a poor creature like me.

Let's see who gets up the stairs first.

lt's nothing, sir.

Annie fell on the stairs.

There, there!

Where were the letters?

Right at the bottom, sir.

Johanna, bring me a cup of coffee!

FRAU VON lNNSTETTEN

''Come to the dunes again this afternoon.

''We can taIk at Frau Adermann's pIace.

The house is isoIated enough.

''Stop worrying about everything.

We have our rights, too.

''Get that into your head,

and you wiII cease to be afraid.

''Life wouIdn't be worth Iiving if aII

the random ruIes had to be observed.

''The finest things Iie beyond them.

Learn to deIight in these things.''

MY DEAREST EFFl,

BE AT THE USUAL PLACE AGAlN TODAY.

I have asked you to come for two reasons.

To issue a chaIIenge on my behaIf...

and to act as my second in the dueI.

The first is not agreeabIe,

the second even Iess so.

And what is your answer?

You know l am at your service.

But before l know more,

forgive a naive question.

Does it have to be?

We're both too old...

you to take a pistol in the hand...

and l to assist you in the deed.

Don't misunderstand me.

That doesn't mean l'm saying no.

How could l refuse you anything?

But tell me what it's all about?

lt concerns a suitor of my wife...

who was also a friend of mine, or almost.

That's impossible!

lt's not only possible, it's a fact.

Read these!

Addressed to your wife?

l found them in her sewing table.

-And who wrote them?

-Major Crampas.

Then these things happened

when you were still in Kessin...

-six or more years ago?

-Yes.

It seems aImost, WuIIersdorf...

as if those 6 or 7 years

make you think differentIy.

There is a theory of Iimitations, of course...

but I'm not sure this is a case

where that theory can be appIied.

I don't know either.

But everything wouId seem

to turn on that question.

Are you serious?

AbsoIuteIy serious.

It's not a matter of jeu d'esprit...

or for sophistry.

What do you mean by that?

Tell me frankly. How do you see the matter?

You're in a terrible situation.

Your happiness is destroyed.

But if you kill the lover...

your happiness will be doubly destroyed.

The pain you have suffered...

will be compounded

by the pain you have caused.

lt all turns on the question,

do you have to do it?

Do you feel so injured, insulted, incensed...

that one of you must die, he or you?

ls that the position?

l don't know.

You have to know.

No, that's not how it is.

How is it then?

The thing is...

I'm desperateIy unhappy.

I've been injured and shamefuIIy deceived.

NevertheIess...

I harbour no feeIings of hatred.

I don't even thirst for revenge.

And if l ask myself why not...

all l can say is, the time that has passed.

People always talk about inexpiable guilt.

ln God's eyes, that is wrong,

and in man's eyes, too.

l would never have believed

that time could have such an effect.

What is more...

l love my wife.

Strange as it may seem, l still love her...

and however terrible l find these things...

I am so captivated by her good nature...

and her own serene charm...

that, in spite of myseIf,

in my heart of hearts...

I'm incIined to forgive her.

Can understand you entirely.

Might feel the same way myself.

But if that's how you feel, and you say:

''l love this woman so much

l can forgive everything''...

and if one considers

that this happened long, long ago...

like something on a distant star...

if that's the case, lnnstetten, l ask you...

does it have to be?

What's the good of it?

lt has to be done.

l've looked at it all ways.

One does not live alone.

One is part of a larger whole.

And we always have

to bear the whole in mind.

We are entirely dependent on it.

lf l lived in isolation,

l could drop the matter.

l would bear the burden assigned to me.

My happiness would be over, but...

so many have to live without happiness...

and l would have to as well, and l could.

One does not have to be happy.

Least of all, one has a right to be.

One wouldn't need to remove

from the world the person...

who has robbed us of our happiness.

One could also...

let him go free,

if one turned one's back on the world.

But...

in living together in society,

a certain something has evolved.

lt simply exists...

and we're accustomed

to judging everything by its rules.

Others...

and ourselves.

One cannot contravene them...

without society despising us.

We wouId come to despise ourseIves, too...

and uItimateIy bIow our brains out.

Forgive my holding forth like this

and merely saying...

what everyone has said

to himself a hundred times.

But then...

who can really say anything new?

I repeat...

it's not a matter of hatred

or personaI happiness.

That tyrannicaI sociaI eIement...

is not concerned with charm or Iove...

or the Iapse of time.

I have no choice.

I simpIy have to.

I'm not so sure, Innstetten.

You must decide, WuIIersdorf.

It's ten o'cIock now.

Six hours ago, I admit...

I stiII had a free hand.

There was stiII a way out.

But not any Ionger. I'm in a bIind aIIey.

I've onIy myseIf to bIame, you might say.

l should have been more on my guard,

kept everything to myself...

fought it out in my own heart.

But it all came too suddenly

for me to give myself the blame...

for not having kept my nerves under control.

l went to your place and wrote you a note...

and in doing so relinquished control.

From that moment...

someone else was half-aware

of my misfortune...

and, more importantly,

of the stain on my honour...

and with this discussion,

that person is now fully aware.

And since there is such a person...

there's no going back.

I wouIdn't say that.

I don't Iike using trite phrases...

but I know no better way of putting it.

l'll be as silent as the grave.

That's what people always say.

But there's no such thing as secrecy.

You may be the soul of discretion...

but you know about it...

and the fact that you express

your consent and understanding...

does not save me from you.

l am, and l remain...

from this moment on,

an object of your sympathy.

Every word you hear me say to my wife

is subject to your control.

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