Shakespeare. He is not a pioneer, has not changed the course of human thought. But yet he is an artist of whom his country may well be proud, who has added to the happiness of hundreds of thousands of Germans, and who only needs to be better understood to be thoroughly enjoyed by foreigners.

England and America have much to learn from him—the value of long, careful, and unremitting study; the advantage of being thoroughly familiar with the scenes and types of character depicted; the charm of an almost unequaled simplicity and directness. He possessed the rare gift of being able to envelop every topic that he touched with an atmosphere of elegance and distinction. His productions are not ephemeral, but are of the kind that will endure.

* * * * *

GUSTAV FREYTAG

* * * * *

#THE JOURNALISTS#

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

BERG, retired Colonel.

IDA, his daughter.

ADELAIDE RUNECK.

  SENDEN, landed proprietor.
                                         _
  PROFESSOR OLDENDORF, editor-in-chief. |
                                          |
  CONRAD BOLZ, editor. |
                                          |
  BELLMAUS, on the staff.. |
                                          |
  KÄMPE, on the staff. } of the newspaper
                                          | The Union.
  KÖRNER, on the staff. |
                                          |
  PRINTER HENNING, owner. |
                                          |
  MILLER, factotum. _|

                                         _
  BLUMENBERG, editor. |
                                          } of the newspaper
  SCHMOCK, on the staff. _| Coriolanus.

PIEPENBRINK, wine merchant and voter.

LOTTIE, his wife.

BERTHA, their daughter.

KLEINMICHEL citizen and voter.

FRITZ, his son.

JUDGE SCHWARZ.

A foreign ballet-dancer.

KORB, secretary for Adelaide's estate.

CARL, the Colonel's man-servant.

A waiter.

Club-guests. Deputations of citizens.

Place of action: A provincial capital.

THE JOURNALISTS[1] (1853)

TRANSLATED BY ERNEST F. HENDERSON, PH.D., L.H.D.

ACT I

SCENE I

A summer parlor in the COLONEL'S house. Handsome furnishings. In the centre of rear wall an open door, behind it a verandah and garden; on the sides of rear wall large windows. Right and left, doors; on the right, well in front, a window. Tables, chairs, a small sofa.

IDA is sitting in front on the right reading a book. The COLONEL enters through centre door with an open box in his hand in which are dahlias.

COLONEL.

Here, Ida, are the new varieties of dahlias our gardener has grown. You'll have to rack your brains to find names for them. Day after tomorrow is the Horticultural Society meeting, when I am to exhibit and christen them.

IDA.

This light-colored one here should be called the "Adelaide."

COLONEL.

Adelaide Buneck, of course. Your own name is out of the running, for as a little dahlia you have long been known to the flower-trade.

IDA.

One shall be called after your favorite writer, "Boz."

COLONEL.

Splendid! And it must be a really fine one, this yellow one here with violet points. And the third one—how shall we christen that?

IDA (stretching out her hand entreatingly to her father).

"Edward Oldendorf."

COLONEL.

What! The professor? The editor? Oh no, that will not do! It was bad enough for him to take over the paper; but that he now has allowed himself to be led by his party into running for Parliament—that I can never forgive him.

IDA.

Here he comes himself.

COLONEL (aside).

It used to be a pleasure to me to hear his footstep; now I can hardly keep from being rude when I see him.

Enter OLDENDORF.

OLDENDORF.

Good morning, Colonel!

IDA (with a friendly greeting).

Good morning, Edward. Help me to admire the new dahlias that father has grown.

COLONEL.

But do not trouble the professor. Such trifles no longer interest him; he has bigger things in his head.

OLDENDORF.

At all events I have not lost my ability to enjoy what gives you pleasure.

COLONEL (grumbling to himself).

You have not given me much proof of that. I fear you take pleasure in doing the very things that vex me. You are doubtless quite busy now with your election, Mr. Future Member of Parliament!

OLDENDORF.

You know, Colonel, that I myself have less than any one else to do with it.

COLONEL.

Oh, I don't believe that! It is the usual custom in such elections, I imagine, to pay court to influential persons and shake hands with the voters, to make speeches, scatter promises, and do all the other little devil's tricks.

OLDENDORF.

You yourself do not believe, Colonel, that I would do anything discreditable?

COLONEL.

Not? I am not so sure, Oldendorf. Since you have turned journalist, edit your Union and daily reproach the State with its faulty organization, you are no longer what you used to be.

OLDENDORF (who up to this point has been conversing with IDA about the flowers, but now turns to the COLONEL).

Does what I now say or write conflict with my former views? It would be hard to convince me of that. And still less can you have noticed any change in my feelings or in my conduct toward you.

COLONEL (obdurate).

Well, I don't see what reason you would have for that. I am not going to spoil my morning by quarreling. Ida may try to straighten things out with you. I am going to my flowers. [Takes the box and exit toward the garden.]

OLDENDORF.

What has put your father in such a bad humor? Has something in the newspaper vexed him again?