Bergmans living-room.
Wendla Youve made it so long, Mother. Its too long.
Frau Bergman Wendla, youre not a little girl any more, this is your fourteenth birthday.
Wendla Id rather never be fourteen than have to wear a dress this long.
Frau Bergman It is not too long. What can we do? Every spring youve shot up another two inches. Youre a young woman now, Wendla. That little-princess frock is beginning to look ridiculous on you.
Wendla It suits me better than this dreary thing. Oh, Mother, let me go on wearing it. Just this summer. Till my next birthday. This will keep Look at it, it gives me an awful feeling. Its like a prison sack or something for criminals. My legs would feel trapped in it.
Frau Bergman Ah, Wendla, if only I could keep you exactly as you are now. At your age most girls are such gangly, awkward creatures, but youre exactly the opposite. When theyre all full-grown, what will you be like, I wonder?
Wendla Maybe I shant be here.
Frau Bergman My darling child, where do you get such ideas?
Wendla Oh, Mother, dont be upset, Im sorry.
Frau Bergman My precious little darling.
Wendla But I do sometimes think about it. Sometimes at night when I cant sleep. Thoughts like that just come. They dont make me sad at all. And they do make me sleep. Is it bad to think those thoughts, Mother? Is it sinful?
Frau Bergman Here you are go and hang it in the wardrobe. Wear your little-princess frock if thats what you want. Perhaps I can tack a bit of flounce round the hem some time.
Wendla Please no, not that. Id rather be twenty right now.
Frau Bergman I dont want you to catch a chill, Wendla. That little dress used to be long enough but
Wendla Mother, its nearly summer. You dont catch diphtheria in your knees. Youre such a worrier. Girls my age dont get frostbite least of all in the legs. Would you prefer me too hot? How if I were too hot? What if your precious little darling cut off the sleeves altogether, right up to the armpits. What if I came home one night without shoes or stockings or knickers? When I wear that prison gown, believe me, my underwear will be something else. Next to my skin Ill be Queen of the Fairies. Oh, please dont be silly, Mummy, nobody will ever see it.
Evening
Melchior Im bored. Ive had enough of this game.
Otto If you stop, we all stop. Whats our homework, Melchior, do you know?
Melchior Why dont you just carry on with the game.
Moritz Where are you going?
Melchior A walk maybe.
Georg But its nearly dark. Have you done your homework already?
Melchior I like walking in the dark.
Ernst Central America. Louis the Fifteenth. Sixty lines of Homer. Seven equations.
Melchior To hell with homework.
Georg That Latin has to be in tomorrow.
Moritz Whatever you want to do, whatever you want to think homeworks there first, like a great crack in the earth at your feet.
Otto Im off.
Georg Me too. Homework here I come.
Ernst And me.
Rilou Good night, Melchior.
Melchior Good night.
All go but Melchior and Moritz.
I wish to God I knew what were doing on this earth!
Moritz Why do we have to go to school? Id rather be a flea on a dog. Why do we go? To take exams. And why exams? So they can fail us. They have to fail seven of us. The class above only takes sixty. Seven of us have to evaporate. Ever since Christmas Ive felt so peculiar, a bit desperate somehow If it werent for my father Id be gone, bags packed and gone. Id be in America.
Melchior Lets talk about something else.
Moritz Did you see that black cat?
Melchior You superstitious?
Moritz Ha, who knows? She came right over from the other side and crossed in front of us, tail up. Meaningless, of course.
Melchior You know what I think? All who scramble out of idiot religion topple headfirst into imbecile superstition. Lets sit under that big beech tree. This lovely warm wind is coming off the mountains. Do you know what Id like to be? A tree spirit, a baby dryad. Up there in the highest branches, swayed and lulled and cradled the whole night.
Moritz Unbutton your jacket, Melchior.
Melchior Wonderful how this wind comes in under your clothes.
Moritz Its suddenly so dark. I cant see my hand in front of my face. Whereve you gone? Melchior dont you believe that mans sense of shame is completely artificial manufactured by his upbringing?
Melchior The other day I was thinking about just that. I would say shame is rooted in human nature. You cant escape it. Imagine: youre ordered to take all your clothes off in front of your best friend. You wouldnt. Or youd do it only if he did exactly the same, at the same time.
Moritz If ever I have children theyll all sleep in the same room right from the start. If possible, the same bed. Night and morning theyll help undress and dress each other boys and girls, all together. In summer, when its hot, theyll all wear a very simple short tunic white linen or something of that sort light and simple. Fastened with leather thongs. Think how those children would grow up so relaxed and easy with each other. And look at us.