Франц Кафка - The Complete Stories (forword by John Updike)

Chamberlain enters at once through center door, then the Lord High Steward (youngish man in officer's uniform) through door on right.

WARDEN (ducks behind divan and flourishes his hands as though seeing ghosts).

STEWARD: The Prince has gone?

CHAMBERLAIN: Following your advice, the Princess sent for him.

STEWARD: Good. (Turns suddenly, bends over behind divan.) And you, miserable ghost, you actually dare to appear here in the princely castle! Aren't you afraid of the great boot that'll kick you through the door?

WARDEN: I'm — I'm —

STEWARD: Quiet, first of all keep quiet, don't utter — and sit down here in this corner! (To Chamberlain) I thank you for informing me about the latest princely whim.

CHAMBERLAIN: You inquired about it.

STEWARD: Even so. And now a confidential word. Purposely in front of that creature there. You, Count, are flirting with the opposition.

CHAMBERLAIN: Is that an accusation?

STEWARD: An apprehension, so far.

CHAMBERLAIN: In that case I can answer. I'm not flirting with the opposition, for I don't know it. I can feel the currents, but I steer clear of them. I still represent the open policy that prevailed under Duke Friedrich. At that time the only policy at Court was to serve the Prince. This was made easier by his being a bachelor, but it should never be difficult.

STEWARD: Very sensible — except that one's own nose, however reliable, never points the right way all the time. This can only be achieved by reason. But reason must make decisions. Let's assume the Prince is on the wrong track: does one serve him better by following him down or, with all due respect, by chasing him back? Undoubtedly by chasing him back.

CHAMBERLAIN: You came here with the Princess from a foreign Court, have spent a mere six months here, and you already think you can tell the difference between good and evil in the complicated conditions of this Court?

STEWARD: He who blinks sees only complications. He who keeps his eyes open sees the eternal truth in the first hours as clearly as after a hundred years. Admittedly, in this case, a sad truth which in the next few days, however, may take a decisive turn for the better.

CHAMBERLAIN: I cannot believe that the decision which you wish to bring about and which I know only from your announcement will be a good one. I'm afraid you misunderstand our Prince, the Court, and everything here.

STEWARD: Whether understood or misunderstood, the present situation is unbearable.

CHAMBERLAIN: Unbearable it may be, but it is founded on the nature of things as they are here, and we are prepared to bear it to the end.

STEWARD: But not the Princess, not I, not those who are on our side.

CHAMBERLAIN: What do you find so unbearable?

STEWARD: Just because the decision is imminent I want to speak frankly. The Prince has a dual nature. The one, concerning itself with government, wavers absent-mindedly in public, disregarding its own privileges. The other nature admittedly searches very painstakingly for a strengthening of its foundations. It searches for them in the past, delving deeper and deeper. What a misunderstanding of the situation! A misunderstanding that doesn't lack greatness — although its defectiveness is even greater than its appearance. Can you fail to see that?

CHAMBERLAIN: It's not the description I object to, it's the interpretation.

STEWARD: The interpretation? And to think that in the hope of getting you to agree, I have judged the situation with more leniency than I actually feel! And I'm still withholding my verdict in order to spare you. But just one thing: in reality the Prince does not need a strengthening of his foundations. If he uses all the power at present at his disposal, he'll find it sufficient to bring about everything that the most extreme responsibility before God and man may demand of him. But he shies away from the balance of life, he's on his way to becoming a tyrant.

CHAMBERLAIN: He with his modest character!

STEWARD: It's the modesty of the one half, for he needs all his energy for the second half which scrapes together the foundation needed to build something like the Tower of Babel. To hinder this work should be the sole policy of all those who are interested in their personal existence, in the principality, in the Princess, and possibly even in the Prince.

CHAMBERLAIN: "Possibly even" — you're very candid. To be equally frank, your candor makes me tremble at the imminent decision. And I regret, as I've recently come to regret more and more, that I'm devoted to the Prince almost to the point of helplessness.

STEWARD: Everything is clear. You are not flirting with the opposition. In fact, you are even holding out a hand. Only one, which is commendable for an old courtier. And yet your only hope is that our great example carries you along.

CHAMBERLAIN: Whatever I can do to prevent it, I shall do.

STEWARD: It doesn't frighten me anymore. (Pointing to the Warden.) And you who've been sitting there so quietly, have you understood everything that's been said?

CHAMBERLAIN: The Warden of the tomb?

STEWARD: The Warden of the tomb. One must probably be a stranger to size him up. Isn't that so, old boy, you little old screech-owl, you! Have you ever seen him flying through the forest in the evening, out of any gun's reach? But by day he ducks at the slightest move.

CHAMBERLAIN: I don't understand.

WARDEN (almost in tears): You're scolding me, sir, and I don't know why. Please let me go home. I'm really not evil, I'm just the Warden of the tomb.

CHAMBERLAIN: You mistrust him.

STEWARD: Mistrust? No, he's too insignificant for that. But I want to keep an eye on him. For I think — call it whim or superstition, if you like — that he's not just a mere tool of evil, but an upright, active worker for evil.

CHAMBERLAIN: He has been serving the Court quietly for thirty years — possibly without ever having been in the castle.

STEWARD: Oh, moles like him build long passages before they emerge. (Suddenly turns to Warden.) But first of all, away with this one! (To servant) Take him to the Friedrichspark, stay with him, and don't let him out until further notice.

WARDEN (very frightened): I'm supposed to wait for his Highness, the Prince.

STEWARD: An error. — Off with you.

CHAMBERLAIN: He must be treated with care. He's an old and sick man, and for some reason the Prince sets store by him.

WARDEN (bowing low before Chamberlain).

STEWARD: What? (To servant) Treat him carefully, but for God's sake get him out of here. Quick!

SERVANT (about to grab him).

CHAMBERLAIN (stepping between them): No, we must get a carriage.

STEWARD: It's the air at this Court. I can't taste a grain of salt anywhere. All right then, a carriage. You take the treasure away in a carriage. But now, out of the room with you both! (To Chamberlain) Your behavior shows me —

WARDEN (collapses, with a little scream, on way to door).

STEWARD (stamping his foot): Is it impossible to get rid of him? Pick him up in your arms if there's no other way. Can't you understand what's expected of you!

CHAMBERLAIN: The Prince!

SERVANT (opening door at left).

STEWARD: Ah! (Glances at Warden.) I should have known that ghosts cannot be transported.

PRINCE (enters with quick step, behind him the Princess, dark young woman with teeth clenched, stops in doorway).

PRINCE: What's happened?

STEWARD: The Warden felt ill, I was about to have him taken away.

PRINCE: I should have been notified. Has the doctor been sent for?

CHAMBERLAIN: I'll have him called. (Hurries out by center door, returns at once.)