Yes, it cannot be helped.  Will you see my Franz, Arno?  You look so like him to-day—­the day I first saw him in the fields, the day of the factory picnic.  It seems long ago.  Tell him how happy he made me, and how I loved him.  He didn’t believe in this war no more than I, yet he had to go.  He dreaded lest he meet his friends on the other side.  You remember those two young men from across the border?  They worked all one winter side by side in the factory with Franz.  They went home to join their regiments when the war was let loose on us.  He never could stand it, Franz couldn’t, if he were ordered to drive his bayonet into them. [Gets up, full of emotion that is past expression.] Oh, it is too monstrous!  And for what—­for what?

Arno:

It is our duty.  We belong to the fatherland.  I would willingly give my life for my country.

Hedwig:

I would willingly give mine for peace.

Arno:

I must go.  Good-by, Hedwig.

Hedwig: [Controlling her emotion as she kisses him.]

Good-by, my brave, splendid little brother.

Amelia:

I may come to the front, too.

[They embrace tenderly.]

Mother: [Strong and quiet, unable to speak, holds his head against her breast for a moment.]

Fight well, my son.

Arno:

Yes, Mother.

[He tears himself away.  The silent suffering of the mother is pitiful.  Her hands are crossed on her breast, her lips are seen to move in prayer.  It is Hedwig who takes her in her arms and comforts her.]

Hedwig:

And this is war—­to tear our hearts out like this!  Make mother some tea,
Amelia, can’t you?

[Amelia prepares the cup of tea for her mother.]

Mother: [After a few moments composes herself.]

There, I am right now.  I must remember—­and you must help me, my daughters—­it is for the fatherland.

Hedwig: [On her knees by the fire, shakes her head slowly.]

I wonder, I wonder.  O Mother, I’m not patient like you.  I couldn’t stand it.  To have a darling little baby and see him grow into a man, and then lose him like this!  I’d rather never see the face of my child.

Mother:

We have them for a little while.  I am thankful to God for what I have had.

Hedwig:

Then I must be very wicked.

Mother:

Are you sleeping better now, child?

Hedwig:

No; I am thinking of Franz.  He may be lying there alone on the battle-field, with none to help, and I here longing to put my arms around him.

[Buries her face on the mother’s knees and sobs.]

Mother:

Hush, Hedwig!  Be brave!  Take care of yourself!  We must see that Franz’s child is well born.