Anarchistbanjo's World

Alraune by Hanns Heinz Ewers and translated by Joe E Bandel

Geroldingen sighed; Fräulein Clara was a teacher in an English
finishing school. Dr. Mohnen had met her at a local dance and later
introduced him to her. She loved the cavalry captain and he had hoped
that for once Dr. Mohnen would take her away from him. He had to
start thinking seriously about getting married. Sooner or later it had to
happen, his debts were growing and he needed to find some solution.
“Write her the same thing!” cried Karl Mohnen. “God, if I can do
it, you can do it as well. You’re just her friend! You have too much
conscience man, much too much conscience.”
He wanted to take the count with him to Lendenich, to give him
a reason for visiting with the little Fräulein ten Brinken.
He hit his friend lightly on the shoulder; “You’re as sentimental
as a freshman, count! I leave one sitting and you blame yourself,
always the same old song! But consider what stands to be won this
time, the richest heiress on the Rhine. No delay is permitted!”
The cavalry captain rode out there with his friend and fell no less
deeply in love with the strange creature who was so very different
from all the others that had offered their red lips for him to kiss. As he
went back home that night he felt the same way he had that time
twenty years ago when for the first time he had taken for himself the
girl that his friend adored.
Over the years this had happened so often and he had been so
successful at it that his conscience no longer bothered him. But he
was ashamed of himself now. This time it was entirely different. His
feelings toward this half child were different and he knew that his
friend’s emotions were different as well.
There was one thing that consoled him; Dr. Mohnen would
certainly not win Fräulein ten Brinken. His chances of doing that were
much less than they had been with any of the other women. Really,
this time he was not even sure if she would be interested in him.
When it came to this little doll all of his natural confidence had
completely deserted him.
As far as young Gontram was concerned, it appeared that the
Fräulein liked to have her handsome page, as she called him, around.
But it was just as clear that he was nothing more than a plaything for
Alraune without any will of his own.
No, neither of these two were rivals, not the smooth talking
doctor nor the handsome youth. The cavalry captain seriously
weighed his chances for the first time in his life. He was from an
ancient and noble family and the King’s Hussars were considered the
finest regiment in the West.
He was slender and well built, still looked young enough and
was soon to be promoted to Major. He was a dilettante, and versed
well enough in all the arts. If he had to be honest with himself he
would have to admit that it would not be easy to find a Prussian
cavalry officer with more interests or more accomplishments than he
had. Truthfully it was not surprising that both women and girls threw
themselves around his neck. Why shouldn’t Alraune do the same? She
could search for a long time before she found anyone better. Even
more, as the adopted daughter of his Excellency, she had the only
thing that he couldn’t offer, money, and she had it in such immense
abundance! The two of them would make an excellent couple, he
thought.
Wolf Gontram was in the house sacred to St. Nepomuk every
evening and at least three times every week he brought the cavalry
captain and the doctor along with him. The Privy Councilor withdrew
after the meal, coming in only occasionally for a half hour at a time,
listening to them, observing for a bit and withdrawing again, “testing
the waters” as he called it.
The three lovers sat around the little Fräulein, looking at her and
making love to her, each in their own way.
The young girl enjoyed the attention for awhile but then it began
to bore her. Things were getting too monotonous and a little more
color was needed to liven up the evenings in Lendenich.
“They should do something,” she said to Wolf Gontram.
The youth asked, “Who should do something?”
She looked at him, “Who? Those two! Dr. Mohnen and the
count.”
“Tell them what they should do,” he replied. “I’m sure they will
do it.”
Alraune looked at him astonished, “How should I know what
they should do? They have to figure that out themselves.”
She put her head in her hands and stared out into the room.
“Wouldn’t it be nice Wölfchen, if they dueled each other? Shot
each other dead–both of them?”
Wolf Gontram opined, “Why should they shoot each other dead?
They are best friends.”
“You are a stupid boy, Wölfchen!” said Alraune. “What does
that have to do with it? Whether they are best friends or not? Then
they must become enemies.”
“Yes, but why? There is no purpose to it.”
She laughed, grabbed his curly head and kissed him quickly right
on the nose.
“No, Wölfchen. There is no purpose at all–Why should there be?
But it would be something different, would be a change–Will you
help me Wölfchen?”
He didn’t answer. She asked again, “Will you help me
Wölfchen?”
He nodded.
That evening Alraune deliberated with young Gontram on how
they could arrange things to incite the two friends so that one of them
would challenge the other to a duel. Alraune considered, spinning one
plan after another and proposing it. Wölfchen Gontram listened and
nodded but was still hesitant.
Alraune calmed him.
“They don’t need to be serious about it. Very little blood is shed
at duels and afterward they will be like brothers again. It will
strengthen their friendship!”
That brightened him up and he helped her think things through.
He explained to her the various little weaknesses of them both, where
the one was sensitive and where the other–
So her little plan grew. It was no finely crafted scheme at all, was
much more quite childish and naïve. Only two people that were
blindly in love would ever stumble over such a crude stone.
His Excellency noticed that something was up. He questioned
Alraune and when she wouldn’t talk he questioned young Gontram.
He learned everything he wanted to from the boy, laughed and gave
him a few beautiful suggestions for the little plan as well.
But the friendship between the two was stronger than Alraune
had believed. Dr. Mohnen was so rock solidly convinced of his own
irresistible nature that it took her over four weeks to turn things
around and bring him to the impression that the captain might just
take the field this time and likewise to give the captain the impression
that for once the doctor might just triumph over him.
The count and Karl Mohnen both thought that it was time to
speak privately with each other and settle things but Fräulein ten
Brinken understood such confidential talks and always found ways to
hinder them. One evening she would invite the doctor and not the
cavalry captain. Next time she would go riding with the count and
leave the doctor waiting for her at some garden concert.
Each considered themselves as her favorite but also had to
recognize that her behavior toward the other was not entirely
indifferent either. It was the old Privy Councilor himself that finally
fanned the glowing spark into high flames.
He took his office manager to one side and had a long talk with
him, said that he was very satisfied with his performance and would
not be unhappy at all to see someone as dedicated as he was to
someday become his successor. Really, he would never try to
influence the decision of his child. Still, he wanted to warn him that
there was someone, whom he did not want to name, that was fighting
against him, in particular all kinds of rumors of his loose living were
spreading and reaching the Fräulein’s ear.
His Excellency then had almost the same talk with the cavalry
captain, except that in this case he remarked that he would not take it
unkindly if his daughter married into such a prestigious old family
like the Geroldingen’s.
During the next few weeks the two rivals strongly avoided any
encounters with each other while doubling their attentions toward
Alraune. Dr. Mohnen, especially, let none of her desires go
unfulfilled. When he heard that she craved a charming seven-stranded
pearl necklace that she had seen at a jeweler’s on Schilder Street in
Cologne he immediately went there and bought it. Then when he saw
that for a moment the Fräulein was really delighted over his gift he
believed he had most certainly found the way to her heart and began
to shower her with all kinds of beautiful jewels.
For this purpose he had to help himself to the money in the cash
box at the ten Brinken offices. But he was so sure of his cause that he
did it with a light heart and considered the little forced borrowing as
something he was entitled to that he would immediately replace as
soon as he received the dowry of millions from his father-in-law. He
was certain that his Excellency would only laugh over his little trick.
His Excellency did laugh–but a little differently than the good
doctor had thought. On the very same day that Alraune received the
strands of pearls he rode into the city and determined immediately
where the suitor had found the means for purchasing the gift. But he
didn’t say a word.
Count Geroldingen could give no pearls. There was no cash box
for him to plunder and no jeweler would loan him anything on credit.
But he wrote sonnets for the Fräulein that were really very beautiful!
He painted her in her boy’s clothing and played violin, not Beethoven
whom he loved, but Offenbach, whom she liked to listen to.
Then on the birthday of the Privy Councilor the collision finally
came. They had both been invited and the Fräulein had privately
asked each one to escort her to the table. They both came up to her
when the servant announced that dinner was served. Each considered
the intrusion of the other as tactless and each said–and half
suppressed–a few words.
Alraune waved Wolf Gontram over.
“If the gentlemen can’t agree–” she said, laughing and took his
arm.
It was a little quiet at the table at first. The Privy Councilor had
to do most of the talking. But soon both lovers were warm. They
drank to the health of the birthday child and his charming daughter.
Karl Mohnen gave a speech and the Fräulein threw a couple of
glances at him that made the hot blood pound in the cavalry captain’s
temples. But later, at dessert she laid her little hand lightly on the
count’s arm–only a second–but long enough to make the round fish
eyes of the doctor pop out of his head. When she stood up she allowed
both to lead her away; she danced with them both as well.
Then later while dancing a waltz separately with one she spoke
of the other, “Oh, that was so abominable of your friend! You won’t
really permit that will you?”
The count answered, “Certainly not!”
But Dr. Mohnen threw out his chest and declared, “You can
count on me!”
The next morning the little dispute appeared no less childish to
the count than it did to the doctor–but they both had the uneasy
feeling that they had promised something to Fräulein ten Brinken.
“I will challenge him to a duel with pistols,” said Karl Mohnen
to himself, never believing that it would ever happen.
But in any case that morning the cavalry captain sent a couple of
comrades to his friend–he wanted the court of honor to see what they
made of it. Dr. Mohnen negotiated with the gentlemen, explaining to
them that the count was his closest friend and that he didn’t wish to
harm him at all. The count only needed to apologize to him–then
everything would be fine. He wanted to tell them in confidence that
he would also pay off all his friend’s debts immediately on the day
after the wedding.
But the officers declared that while all that was very nice it had
nothing at all to do with them. The cavalry captain felt insulted and
demanded satisfaction. Their task was only to ask if he were
gentleman enough to accept the challenge, an exchange of three shots
at a distance of fifteen paces.
Dr. Mohnen started, “Three–three exchanges.” he stammered.
The Hussar officers laughed, “Now calm yourself Herr Doctor!
The Court of Honor would never in their lives allow such an insane
challenge for such a small offence. It is only in good form.”
Dr. Mohnen could see that. He counted on the healthy common
sense of the gentlemen of the Court of Honor as well and accepted the
challenge.
He did more than that, ran at once to his fraternity house with it
and requested seconds, then he sent two students in haste to challenge
the Captain for his side–five bullet exchanges at ten paces is what he
demanded. That would make him look good and most certainly
impress the little Fräulein.