# The Prime Minister/Act III

THIRD ACT
Scene.—Apartment of Dr. Gottfried Schiller in Soho Square. Same as before. It is night. Curtains are drawn. Only one electric lamp burning on table. Rest of room in shadow.
About the table seven men are seated. At back sits Dr. Schiller, with Fritz, Hoffmann, etc., on either side of him.
As the curtain rises their heads are raised and turned half aside, as if listening. There is a low rumble of guns without. Otto stands by one of the windows, holding a curtain slightly aside as if looking out through a narrow aperture. The tumbling dies away.
Fritz.
[In a tone of relief and bitter satisfaction.] That's the end of it. The damnable barrage is over. They've gone—escaped!
Otto.
[Turning back into the room.] Not before one of them has been brought down though.
Others.
[Alarmed.] Brought down?
​Otto.
In flames. I've just seen it fall.
Others.
In flames?
Otto.
A flaming ball of fire. [A low murmur, half moan, half growl.
Doctor.
God pity the poor brave souls who have perished in it!
Fritz.
And God punish the incarnate fiends who killed them! [The sound of cheering comes from without—faint and far away—as if the whole city were shouting in joy.] Listen! Shouting, cheering, rejoicing!
Hoffmann.
Yet we are " the barbarians"! [Derisive laughter about the table.
Doctor.
Come, let us get on then. Has Margaret arrived?
Otto.
Not yet, sir.
Doctor.
Where are your aunt and Freda?
Otto
In auntie's bedroom.
​Doctor. Let them stay there. You told them to send Margaret in to us as soon as she came?
Otto.
Yes.
One of the Men. But will she come?
Fritz. Certainly she will.
Second Man. How long has she been in the house of the British Minister?
Fritz.
Two months to-morrow.
Second Man.
What have you heard from her in the meantime?
Fritz.
Nothing.
Others.
Nothing at all?
Fritz.
We're not worrying about that. Margaret has been awaiting her chance—watching her opportunity.
First Man.
Then how do you know she'll come back to-night?
Fritz.
Her brother saw her this morning. She gave him her promise.
​Doctor.
Tell them what passed, Otto.
Otto.
It was in the Park. I had been waiting to see if she would come out for her usual walk. At last she came. She pretended not to see me, so I stepped up to her. "Leave me," she said. "I can't speak to you."
Others.
Ah!
Otto.
I thought she was afraid of being seen from the windows of the house, so I fell back a step or two and spoke to her from behind.
Hoffmann.
What did you say?
Otto.
"The Council of the Club are to meet to-night," I said. "They want you to be present." "I can't listen to you," she answered. "It's urgent—imperative. You must come," I said, and still she tried to get away.
Others. So?
Otto.
But when I said the Club was to meet as a Court to try the Minister, and it would be life or death to him, she consented. "At what time?" she asked. "Nine o'clock," I told her. "I'll be there," she said.
​First Man.
It's nine now.
Fritz.
Then she'll be here presently.
Hoffmann.
Unless the raid has kept her back.
Fritz.
Margaret? Not likely.
Second Man.
You are sure she'll do what we want of her?
Doctor.
Absolutely sure. She hates the man; loathes him; would give her life to wipe him out.
First Man.
Do you propose that the girl herself then——
Doctor.
No—that's work for one of us. But Margaret must know the Minister's house by this time. Her help is necessary—essential.
Second Man.
Will it be to-night, doctor?
Doctor.
Yes, to-night.
Second Man.
It's Christmas Eve, remember.
​Doctor.
So much the better! While these hypocritical English are praying in their churches and singing their Christmas carols in the streets the bolt will fall.
[Sound of bugles passing through the streets. Again the men listen.
Hoffmann.
The "All Clear!"
[There is a low murmur of derisive voices about the table.
Doctor.
Silence! [All quiet.] Comrades, we have tried Robert Temple for infamous crimes against our people, our country, and the peace of the world, found him guilty and worthy of death. [A low murmur of assent.] But one thing more remains still to be done—to select the person who is to execute our sentence.
Hoffmann.
Let us leave that to destiny.
Others.
Yes—let us draw lots.
Doctor.
Good! The man to whom the lot falls will be our right hand, and must be treated accordingly. If he succeeds we must shield and protect him. If he fails—no matter from what cause—his life must be forfeit to the rest. Is that agreed?
​Others.
Agreed!
Doctor.
[Raising his hand.] Swear it then—you and each of you, in the name of the Fatherland and in the presence of the ever-living God!
Others.
[Raising their hands.] We swear it!
Doctor. Fritz—the counters. [Fritz rises, takes something from sideboard and throws it on table.] In this bag are eight counters—a counter for each of us here present. Seven are black, the eighth is white. The man who draws the white counter will be the one to whom the lot has fallen. Put out the light. [The light is switched off. In the darkness Dr. Schiller's voice is heard.] Now, rise and draw. [There is a moment of silence, with movement at the table.] Put up the light. [The light is flashed up. The men, who are all on their feet, look at their counters. Seven of them throw their counters, which are black, on the table. The eighth man stands with the white counter in his hand. It is Otto.] [Gasping.] Otto! My brother's son!
[There is a moment of painful silence. Then Dr. Schiller recovers himself.] Our proceedings are at an end. Leave the rest to me, comrades! Let everybody else go home and do as intended. [The company break up and go out by door on R. As each passes Otto he shakes his hand in silence.] Good night!
​Others.
[Going.] Good night!
[As the men pass out, the door on L. opens and Margaret enters. She is very pale and seems to take in everything at a glance.
Fritz.
Margaret! My dear Margaret! You have come in the very nick of time.
Doctor.
[After shutting door on R.] Yes, in the very nick of time, my child.
Fritz.
Come, sit down, Margaret. Sit! Sit! [She allows herself to be led to a chair R. of Otto, who continues to stand back to table.] What a splendid idea of yours to go into the Minister's house in place of Freda! We were all against it, but we were wrong. You alone were right, but you didn't know how right you were. Tell her, father.
Doctor.
[Sitting L. of Margaret.] Listen, my child! The Council of our Club has just separated. You know why we met?
Margaret.
I know what Otto told me this morning.
Doctor.
About the English Minister?
​Margaret.
Yes.
Doctor.
That's it. While you have been away this brutal war has been going from bad to worse. Whole towns, cities, provinces, continents swept utterly away. The world has never before seen the like of it. Destruction and desolation everywhere—in the land, in the air, on the sea, under the sea. It is too much. Flesh and blood cannot bear any more. Our country wants peace—an honourable peace and the reconciliation of the peoples. The English want peace, too, but their Minister will not permit of it. We must all be crushed first, ruined, exterminated.
Margaret.
[Breathing hard.] Well?
Doctor.
Well, if our people are not to be wiped out of the world this enemy must himself be wiped out of it, and therefore——
Margaret.
[As before.] Yes?
Doctor.
Therefore our Club has tried him, found him guilty, and—sentenced him to death.
Margaret.
[Rising.] Death?
Doctor.
[Drawing her down.] Strong hearts do not shrink from acts that are necessary, Margaret. Our Council ​did not shrink. It nominated one of its members to carry out its sentence, and now—nothing remains but to call in your help, my child.
Margaret.
[Catching her breath.] Mine?
Doctor.
Yes, yours. [Getting closer.] You've been two months in this man's house, and must know all his habits by this time. But we know something, too. He goes out for a walk on the Embankment every night about eleven—isn't that so?
Margaret.
[Stammering.] It—it may be.
Doctor.
Before he returns the household has gone to bed, and he lets himself in with a latch-key—doesn't he?
Margaret.
Perhaps—perhaps he does.
Doctor.
After leaving his coat and hat in the hall he returns to his own room and usually sits there alone for half an hour longer?
Margaret.
[Breathing hard, listening intently.] Well?
Doctor.
[In a low voice, with an awful significance.] The person appointed to carry out our purpose must be ​waiting in that room when the Minister comes back to it.
Margaret.
But how is he to——
Doctor.
How is he to get there? Listen. The front of the house is to the street, and that is guarded day and night. But the back is to the garden, and has a door to the Park, hasn't it?
Margaret.
Well?
Doctor.
Somebody who lives in the house must obtain the key of that door, open it, and unfasten one of the windows. That's what you have to do, Margaret.
Margaret.
[With a faint cry.] I?
Doctor.
[Feverishly.] Hush! Your aunt is in the next room. She is nervous and difficult. But you are not like other women, Margaret. There's nothing to be afraid of either. All you have to do is to come downstairs after the butler has gone to bed, unfasten the catch of the window, unlock the garden door, and then—go back to your room.
Margaret.
[Emphatically.] I'll not do it!
Fritz and Doctor. You'll not——
​Margaret.
[Yet more emphatically.] I'll not do it!
Doctor.
[Bewildered.] But I don't understand. Wasn't it for just such an opportunity of punishing this enemy of our people——
Fritz.
Yes, of dragging him down and destroying him——
Margaret.
But to take a man like that—in the middle of the night, too——
Doctor.
My dear child, would you have us take him on the Embankment, when he is out for his walk, under the eyes of his worshippers and followed by his police? The person who attempted to do that would be stopped, seized, perhaps torn limb from limb. No, there is only one safe way to carry out our righteous judgment on this monster who is preventing peace— to strike him down as by an unseen hand, when he is in the privacy of his own room, alone.
Margaret.
But that is assassination!
Doctor.
[Still more feverishly.] Even assassination is justifiable when it is necessary. Mercy, humanity, pity—we must wipe them all out now. War is war, and if a nation is to live——
​Margaret.
Then war is of the devil, and the nation that cannot live without crime deserves only to be damned.
Doctor.
[Lifting both hands to her.] Ach, Gott! Is it your father's Fatherland you are speaking of?
Fritz.
[Intervening.] Leave her to me, father. I begin to understand. [Dr. Schiller goes up; Fritz turns to Margaret.] Margaret, when you went into the Minister's house two months ago you hated him with the bitterest hatred. Has anything happened since to change your feeling towards the man?
Margaret.
Yes, what has happened since is—
Fritz.
What?
Margaret.
. . . That now I see that wars are not made by the peoples who suffer most from them, but by their ruthless masters and rulers, and that the statesman of the other nation——
Fritz.
[Impatiently.] Never mind the statesman. I said the man. Has anything happened since to change your feelings towards the man?
​Margaret. Yes, that too—for now I know that he is not the heartless monster I supposed him to be, but a tender father, an affectionate friend, a noble and generous——
Fritz. [With a crack of bitter laughter.] As I thought! I warned you that a man like that might take advantage of a young girl, a beautiful girl—But is it possible that exactly the reverse has happened—that you have fallen into your own trap—become his worshipper, his slave, his plaything?
Margaret.
[Leaping up and lifting hands as if to strike him.] Fritz! [Recovering herself.] But no matter! I will not do it.
[Fritz goes up, laughing bitterly. Dr. Schiller comes down again, his voice quivering, his hands trembling.
Doctor.
No, no, don't say that, Margaret. Fritz is to blame—much to blame. He is mad with jealousy, and doesn't know what he is saying. But come, let us sit down and talk reasonably. [He draws Margaret back to her seat and sits beside her.] Listen again, my child. I speak to you as a father. In his personal character this man Temple may be all you say. But in his public character he is a merciless tyrant. So, as an act of righteous retribution, to save our people from further suffering, and put an end to this miserable war——
​Margaret. But it won't. It will prolong it. It is murder.
Doctor.
[Severely.] Murder or no murder, our Council has decided that it is necessary to be done. It has appointed one of its members to do it, and expects you to help him. And if you don't, if you refuse—do you know what you will be doing? You will be putting yourself into the position of a traitor.
Margaret.
I can't help that, uncle.
Doctor.
More than that—you will be putting the other person into the position of a traitor, too.
Margaret.
I can't help that either. [Looking round at Fritz.] The man who is willing to commit murder is a murderer, and deserves all that comes to him.
Doctor.
[Rising in anger.] God in heaven, what are you saying? You went out to avenge your people—have you remained to become their scourge?
Fritz.
[Coming down again.] But don't you see how it is, sir? She thinks I am the person appointed. Shall I tell you who it is, Margaret? Shall I?
[Margaret, catching his meaning, looks round to where Otto is stilt standing in silence by the table, fumbling the white counter.
​Margaret.
[In a breathless whisper.] You don't mean—Otto?
Fritz.
Yes, Otto—your brother Otto.
Margaret. [Dazed, stunned.] You say that your Council has chosen Otto——
Fritz.
Chosen is not the right word for it, Margaret. We drew lots.
Margaret.
But this is impossible—incredible. A boy—twenty years of age—While you grown men—Uncle, this cannot be.
Doctor.
It can and must, Margaret. Since destiny has chosen your brother to do this work for his Fatherland, he must do it.
Margaret.
And you ask me to help him? Me? [Her voice breaks.] You know what I've been to Otto since mother died. " Take care of Otto," she said, and I promised her I would. I've done it, too, putting everything else aside. And now you ask me to help him to commit this crime—to run the risk of prison, the dock! [Hotly.] I won't do it! More than that, I will see that Otto doesn't either.
Fritz.
And pray lion will you manage that?
​Margaret.
Never mind how. I will — you'll see I will.
Fritz.
Do you mean that you'll warn the Minister?
Margaret.
[Fiercely.] Why shouldn't I? Since his life is in danger, why shouldn't I?
Fritz.
[With triumph.] There you are! What did I tell you, sir?
Doctor.
No, no! Margaret doesn't understand. Listen to me again, my child. It is you who will be running the risk. You cannot warn the Minister without incriminating yourself. You will have to give him the source of your information—and what will that lead to? The revelation of your own identity—who you really are, what you intended to do when you went into his house two months ago, and why you came here to-night.
Margaret.
[By a sudden memory of her oath, putting her hands over her face.] Oh! Oh!
Doctor.
Otto, too ! How can you warn the Minister without incriminating Otto also? He will be arrested on your information—tried, condemned, imprisoned, perhaps put to death?
​Margaret.
[As before.] Oh! Oh!
Doctor.
You think you would be saving your brother's life. My poor child, you would be taking it—deliberately taking it.
Margaret.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Doctor.
No! When you went into the Minister's house you took a step from which there was no return. It was destiny. And if destiny has marked out Otto for this sacred task of ridding the world of a tyrant, why should you keep him back from it?
Margaret.
[Recovering herself and throwing up her head.] Because I must!
Fritz.
[Laughing bitterly.] If you dare!
Margaret.
Oh, you can't frighten me with what will happen to myself. Perhaps I have other reasons than you know of for not wishing Sir Robert Temple to find out that I've deceived him, but since it is necessary that he should know, he shall know. You can't frighten me about Otto either. If the worst comes to the worst it is better that he should be punished for consenting to commit a crime than for committing it. But he will not be punished. The Minister will ​protect him. You think he won't, but he will. I know he will! I came here to-night to save his life——
Fritz.
What?
Margaret.
Yes, to save his life—that was why I consented to come when I saw Otto in the Park this morning. And [moving towards door] now I'm going away with another motive—to save my brother's life as well.
Fritz.
[Going up.] Lock the door. Don't let her go.
Margaret.
Ah, you'll lock me in, will you, when I'm going out on an errand of justice and mercy? That's worthy of you!
Fritz.
What?
Margaret.
Worthy of you and of the nation you belong to.
Fritz.
What do you say?
Margaret.
A nation that has lost all sense of right and wrong, all honour in peace and all chivalry in war.
Doctor.
Then you are a traitor.
​Margaret.
No, no, I am no traitor. I was born here. My father was naturalized. I am an Englishwoman. This is my country.
Doctor.
[After a dead pause.] Your country is where the graves of your kindred are. How many of yours are here? Only one, and where is it? Under the earth of a prison yard.
Margaret.
[With a gasp.] Oh! Oh!
Doctor.
[Following her up.] Besides, there is something else—something you don't know even yet.
Margaret.
What?
Doctor.
Before we drew the lots we took an oath.
Margaret.
An oath?
Doctor.
That if the one to whom the lot fell should fail to carry out his duty his life should be forfeit to the rest.
Margaret.
[With horror.] Then it's the Minister's life, or Otto's?
​Doctor.
[With intense significance.] Yes. Choose—which is it to be?
Margaret.
Oh! Oh! Oh!
[Otto, who has not moved during the foregoing scene, now steps to Margaret's side.
Otto.
[In a low, quivering voice.] Margaret, there is something you have forgotten—this man Temple killed our father——
Margaret.
Otto!
Otto.
Killed him by a false charge, a false trial, and a false imprisonment.
Margaret.
[Hesitating.] But, Otto——
Otto.
[With a wild look of exultation.] Therefore he deserves his death. It will not be crime, but justice.
Margaret.
Otto, I must confess——
Otto.
It is for us to do it, too—his children. Fate has put it into our power to avenge our father's death, and we must avenge it.
​Margaret.
But, Otto, my dear Otto——
Otto.
You must let me into that house to-night, Margaret, and then I—I will do the rest.
Margaret.
[Getting close.] No, no! "What has been going on here has excited you—intoxicated you. You are not yourself to-night, Otto. You mustn't listen to what they say at the Club. This lust of crime is madness—insanity. It would overwhelm the world with darkness—Besides, it is all a mistake.
Otto.
What is a mistake, Margaret?
Margaret.
About our father. His trial was in secret, and we never knew the truth.
Otto.
And what is the truth?
Margaret.
He pleaded guilty.
Otto.
Guilty?
Margaret.
Yes. He said he had never wished to do what he had done, but he had been threatened with the loss of his consulate—with beggary. So for his children's sake——
​Otto.
Who told you this, Margaret?
Margaret.
The Minister himself. And when our father was condemned to death he got his sentence commuted to imprisonment.
Otto.
And you believe that story—that our father pleaded guilty, and the Minister saved his life?
Margaret.
Oh, but it's true. I know it's true.
Otto.
How do you know it's true, Margaret?
Margaret.
Because—if I could only tell you something—I will—I must—because—he saved my life also.
Otto.
Saved your life?
Margaret.
[In quick whisper.] Yes, he found out who I was before I had been an hour in his house, and when the police came to arrest me he kept me out of their hands.
Otto.
Kept you out of their hands?
Margaret.
Yes, and allowed me to remain in the name I had assumed when I went there.
​Otto.
He knows you are not Freda Michel, but Margaret Schiller?
Margaret.
[As before.] Yes, but nobody else knows—nobody whatever.
Otto.
Then it is a secret between you?
Margaret.
Yes, a secret, and he has kept it to this day.
Otto.
He found you out before you had been an hour in his house, yet he allowed you to remain? Why did he allow you to remain, Margaret?
Margaret.
He trusted me. He is so good, so great-hearted.
Otto.
A Minister! At your first meeting, too, and after you had come to him in a false character!
Margaret.
Oh, but he is wonderful. He knew I should keep my word.
Otto.
What word, Margaret?
Margaret. I gave him a promise.
​Otto.
What promise?
Margaret.
[Hesitatingly.] That I should cut myself off — But you must not ask me that, Otto.
Otto.
What promise, Margaret?
Margaret.
Some day I shall be able to tell you, but you must trust me now. Otto.
Otto.
Good God! What has been going on in that house while you have been away?
Margaret.
Otto, you are not suspecting me, are you? Surely you don't think——
Otto.
I don't know what to think, Margaret.
Margaret.
We have been such good friends, you and I, Otto, especially since mother left us, and if I thought you could believe——
Otto.
[Not listening to her.] You are nothing to this man, are you, Margaret?
Margaret.
Otto!
Otto.
He is nothing to you, is he?
​Margaret. [Hesitating.] If I could only tell you something, Otto——
Otto.
One word, yes or no, that's all I ask. He is nothing to you, and you are nothing to him, isn't that so? Speak! Why don't you speak? Is it because you can't?
Margaret.
[Drawing herself up.] It is because I won't.
Otto.
Then it must be as Fritz said, only worse—a thousand times worse. When he found you out, and brought the police to frighten you, you sold your honour to save your life.
Margaret.
[Almost sobbing.] And you say that to your own sister?
Otto.
You are no sister of mine, and no daughter of my father either, or you wouldn't have believed the story you've told me—that he was a renegade who gave up his country for the sake of his bread——
Margaret.
[As before.] His children's bread—yours and mine, Otto.
Otto.
It's a lie—just as much a lie as the story you've told me about yourself. [Raging round the room.] Where's my cap?
​Doctor. [Stepping down.] What are you going to do, Otto?
Otto.
[Snatching up his cap and making for the door, R.] To find another way—that's what I'm going to do, uncle. I don't want Margaret's help now. I won't have it. That man robbed me of my father, and now he has robbed me of my sister also. I'll meet him on the Embankment. They may tear me to pieces if they like——
Doctor.
[Intervening.] No, no!
Margaret.
Wait!
Doctor.
Yes, wait! Give her time, Otto. Let her think.
Margaret.
It's the Minister's life, or Otto's, is it?
Doctor.
It is.
Margaret.
If Otto fails to carry out your purpose, his life will be forfeit—isn't that so?
Doctor.
That is so.
Margaret.
No matter how far he may fly away, his fate will follow him—he can never escape from it?
​Doctor.
Never!
Margaret.
Sooner or later your own club will—will kill him?
Doctor.
Yes.
Margaret.
And I—if I persuade or prevent him—I will be treated accordingly?
Doctor.
You will.
Margaret.
And you, too—if you attempt to evade the death to which you have been told to doom the Minister—you will expose yourselves to your own deaths instead?
Doctor.
We shall.
Margaret.
Then we are all slaves!
Doctor.
Margaret!
Margaret.
Bound slaves of the powers above us!
Fritz.
Blasphemy! Blasphemy against our King and Kaiser!
Margaret.
[Pointing to the portrait of the Kaiser.] Yes, your King and Kaiser—that's it! That's the root of everything when I come to think of it—not what I thought it was two months ago. We must commit
​any sin, cover ourselves with infamy, become the pariahs and lepers of the earth to uphold the throne of this tyrant, this criminal.
Doctor.
[Indignantly.] Margaret!
Margaret.
Millions of mothers must lose their sons, millions of wives must lose their husbands, and millions of little children must lose their fathers; the whole world must weep and bleed to death; but what matter—[Laughing bitterly]—what matter if it adds to his power and glory?
Doctor.
Margaret!
Margaret.
My father, too—my poor, dear father—must be threatened—intimidated—starved——
Doctor. Margaret!
Margaret.
[In a paroxysm of passion.] And now Otto—Otto must commit this crime before God and man; and I must help him! Or if I don't, if I refuse, you and I and he and everybody . . . [Facing the portrait.] The devil ! The cruel, merciless, heartless devil ! May the curse of every mother and wife and sister in the world follow him to his grave! [Snatching up ink-pot from table.] Damn him! Damn him! Damn him!
[She flings the ink-pot at the portrait, smashing the glass, which falls with a crash.
CURTAIN