THREE DRAMAS

THE EDITOR--THE BANKRUPT--THE KING

By Björnstjerne Björnson

CONTENTS

 THE EDITOR THE BANKRUPT THE KING

INTRODUCTION

The three plays here presented were the outcome of a period whenBjörnson's views on many topics were undergoing a drastic revision andhe was abandoning much of his previous orthodoxy in many directions. Twoof them were written during, and one immediately after, a three years'absence from Norway--years spent almost entirely in southern Europe. [Note: Further details respecting Björnson's life will be found in theIntroduction to Three Comedies by Björnson, published in Everyman'sLibrary in 1912. ] For nearly ten years previous to this voluntaryexile, Björnson had been immersed in theatrical management and politicalpropagandism. His political activities (guided by a more or lesspronounced republican tendency) centred in an agitation for a truerequality between the kingdoms of Sweden and Norway, his point of viewbeing that Norway had come to be regarded too much as a mere appanageof Sweden. Between that and his manifold and distracting cares astheatrical director, he had let imaginative work slide for the timebeing; but his years abroad had a recuperative effect, and, in addition, broadened his mental outlook in a remarkable manner. Foreign travel, awider acquaintance with differing types of humanity, and, above all, a newly-won acquaintance with the contemporary literature of othercountries, made a deep impression upon Björnson's vigorously receptivemind. He browsed voraciously upon the works of foreign writers. HerbertSpencer, Darwin, John Stuart Mill, Taine, Max-Müller, formed a portionof his mental pabulum at this time--and the result was a significantalteration of mental attitude on a number of questions, and adetermination to make the attempt to embody his theories in dramaticform. He had gained all at once, as he wrote to Georg Brandes, theeminent Danish critic, "eyes that saw and ears that heard. " Up to thistime the poet in him had been predominant; now it was to be thesocial philosopher that held the reins. Just as Ibsen did, so Björnsonabandoned historical drama and artificial comedy for an attempt atprose drama which should have at all events a serious thesis. In thishe anticipated Ibsen; for (unless we include the satirical politicalcomedy, _The League of Youth_, which was published in 1869, amongIbsen's "social dramas") Ibsen did not enter the field with _Pillars ofSociety_ [Note: Published in _The Pretenders and Two Other Plays_, inEveryman's Library, 1913. ] until 1877, whereas Björnson's _The Editor_, _The Bankrupt_, and _The King_ were all published between 1874 and 1877. Intellectual and literary life in Denmark had been a good deal stirredand quickened in the early seventies, and the influence of thatawakening was inevitably felt by the more eager spirits in the otherScandinavian countries. It is amusing to note, as one Norwegian writerhas pointed out, that this intellectual upheaval (which, in its turn, was a reflection of that taking place in outer Europe) came at a timewhen the bulk of the Scandinavian folk "were congratulating themselvesthat the doubt and ferment of unrest which were undermining thefoundations of the great communities abroad had not had the power toruffle the placid surface of our good, old-fashioned, Scandinavianorthodoxy. " Björnson makes several sly hits in these plays (as doesIbsen in _Pillars of Society_) at this distrust of the opinions andmanners of the larger communities outside of Scandinavia, notablyAmerica, with which the Scandinavian countries were more particularly intouch through emigration. 

Brandes characterises the impelling motive of these three plays as apassionate appeal for a higher standard of truth--in journalism, infinance, in monarchy: an appeal for less casuistry and more honesty. Such a motive was characteristic of the vehement honesty of Björnson'sown character; he must always, as he says in one of his letters, goover to the side of any one whom he believed to "hold the truth in hishands. "

_The Editor_ (_Redaktören_) was written while Björnson was in Florence, and was published at Copenhagen in 1874. It was at first not acceptedfor performance at Christiania or Copenhagen, though an unauthorisedperformance of it was given at one of the lesser Christiania theatresin 1875, Meanwhile a Swedish version of it had been produced, authoritatively, at Stockholm in February of that year. The playeventually made its way on the Norwegian and Danish stage; but, beforethat, it had been seen in German dress at Munich and Hamburg. As aninevitable result of his recent activities as a political speaker andpamphleteer, Björnson had come in for a good deal of vituperation in thepress, a fact which no doubt added some gall to the ink with which hedrew the portrait of the journalist in this play. The Stockholm critics, indeed, had condemned _The Editor_ as merely a pamphleteering attack onthe editor of a well-known journal. In answer to this criticismBjörnson wrote from Rome in March, 1875: "It is said that my play is apamphleteering attack on a certain individual. That is a deliberate lie. I have studied the journalist type, which is here represented, in manyother countries besides my own. The chief characteristic of this typeis to be actuated by an inordinate egotism that is perpetually beinginflamed by passion; that makes use of bogeys to frighten people, and does this in such a way that, while it makes all its honestcontemporaries afraid of any freedom of thought, it also produces thesame result on every single individual by means of reckless persecution. As I wished to portray that type, I naturally took a good deal of theportrait from the representative of the type that I knew best; but, likeevery artist who wishes to produce a complete creation, I had to buildit up from separate revelations of itself. There can, therefore, be noquestion of any individual being represented in my play except in so faras he may partially agree with the type. "

However much Björnson may have written _The Editor_ with a "purpose, "his vivid dramatic sense kept him from becoming merely didactic. Thelittle tragedy that takes place amongst this homely group of peoplemakes quite a moving play, thanks to the skill with which the typesare depicted--the bourgeois father and mother, with their mixture oftimidity and self-interest; the manly, straightforward young politician, resolute to carry on the work that has sapped his brother's life; thewarped, de-humanised nature of the journalist; the sturdy common-senseof the yeoman farmer; and the doctor, the "family friend, " as a sort ofmocking chorus. Besides its plea for a higher regard for truth, the playalso attacks the precept, preached by worldly wisdom, that we ought toharden our natures to make ourselves invulnerable; a propositionwhich was hateful to one of Björnson's persistently impressionableand ingenuous nature. The fact remains, as Brandes grimly admits, that"nowadays we have only a very qualified sympathy with public characterswho succumb to the persecution of the press. " Brandes sees in the play, besides its obvious motive, an allegory. Halvdan Rejn, the weary anddying politician, is (he says) meant for Henrik Wergeland, a Norwegianpoet-politician who had similar struggles, sank under the weight ofsimilar at tacks, died after a long illness, and was far higher reputedafter his death than during his life. In Harald Rejn, with his honestenthusiasm and misjudged political endeavours Brandes sees Björnsonhimself; while the yeoman brother, Haakon, seems to him to typify theNorwegian people. 

_The Bankrupt_ (_En Fallit_: literally _A Bankruptcy_) was partlywritten in Rome, partly in Tyrol, and published at Copenhagen in 1875. It was a thing entirely new to the Scandinavian stage for a dramatistto deal seriously with the tragi-comedy of money, and, while makinga forcible plea for honesty, to contrive to produce a stirring andentertaining play on what might seem so prosaic a foundation as businessfinance. Some of the play's earliest critics dismissed it as "dry, ""prosaic, " "trivial, " because of the nature of its subject; but it madea speedy success on the boards, and very soon became a popular item inthe repertories of the Christiania, Bergen and Copenhagen theatres. Itwas actually first performed, in a Swedish translation, at Stockholm, afew days before it was produced at Christiania. Very soon, too, the playreached Berlin, Munich, Vienna, and other German and Austrian theatres. It was played in Paris, at the Théâtre Libre in 1894. The character ofBerent, the lawyer, which became a favourite one with the famous Swedishactor Ernst Possart, was admittedly more or less of a portrait of awell-known Norwegian lawyer, by name Dunker. When Björnson was writingthe play, he went to stay for some days with Dunker, who was to instructhim as to the legal aspect of bankruptcy. Björnson took the opportunityof studying the lawyer as well as the law. 

_The King_ (_Kongen_) was written at Aulestad, the Norwegian home inwhich Björnson settled after his return from abroad, and was publishedat Copenhagen in 1877. It is perhaps not surprising that the play, withits curious blend of poetry and social philosophy, and its somewhatexuberant (though always interesting) wordiness, was not at firsta conspicuous success on the stage; but the interest aroused bythe published book was enormous. It was widely read and vigorouslydiscussed, both in Scandinavia and abroad; and while, on the one hand, it brought upon Björnson the most scurrilous abuse and the harshestcriticism from his political opponents, on the other hand a prominentcompatriot of his (whose opinion was worth having) gave it as hisverdict, at a political meeting held soon after the play's publication, that "the most notable thing that has happened in Norway of late--or atany rate, one of the most notable--in my opinion is this last book ofBjörnson's--_The King_. "

The idea of a "democratic monarchy"--a kind of reformed constitutionalmonarchy, that should be a half-way house on the road torepublicanism--was not entirely new; Björnson's success was inpresenting the problem as seen from the _inside_--that is to say, fromthe king's point of view. His opponents, of course, branded him as ared-hot republican, which he was not. In a preface he wrote for a lateredition of the play, he says that he did not intend the play mainly asan argument in favour of republicanism, but "to extend the boundaries offree discussion"; but that, at the same time, he believed the republicto be the ultimate form of government, and all European states to beproceeding at varying rates of speed towards it. 

_The King_ is composed of curiously incongruous elements. The railwaymeeting in the first act is pure comedy of a kind to compare with themeeting in Ibsen's _An Enemy of Society_; the last act is melodramawith a large admixture of remarkably interesting social philosophy; theintervening acts betray the poet that always underlay the dramatistin Björnson. The crudity, again, of the melodramatic appearance of thewraith of Clara's father in the third act, contrasts strangely with themature thoughtfulness of much of the last act and with the tender charmof what has gone before: And--strangest incongruity of all in a playso essentially "actual"--there is in the original, between each act, a mysterious "mellemspil, " or "interlude, " in verse, consisting ofsomewhat cryptic dialogues between Genii and Unseen Choirs in theclouds, between an "Old Grey Man" and a "Chorus of Tyrants" in adesolate scene of snow and ice, between Choruses of Men, Women, andChildren in a sylvan landscape, and so forth--their utterances being ofthe nature of the obscurest choruses in the Greek dramatists, but forthe most part with a less obvious relevance to the play itself. Sucha device leads the present-day reader's thoughts inevitably to the usemade of the "unseen chorus, " in a similar way, by Thomas Hardy in _TheDynasts_; but Hardy's interludes are closely relevant to his drama andhelp it on its way, which Björnson's do not. They have been entirelyomitted in the present translation, on the ground of their completesuperfluity as well as from the extreme difficulty of retaining their"atmosphere" in translation. 

None of the three plays in the present volume have previously beentranslated into English. German, French, and Swedish versions of _TheEditor_ are extant; German, Swedish, Finnish, French, and Hungarian of_The Bankrupt_; French and Spanish of _The King_. 

R. FARQUHARSON SHARP. 

The following is a list of the works of Björnstjerne Björnson:--

DRAMATIC AND POETIC WORKS. --Mellem Slagene (Between the Battles), 1857. Halte-Hulda (Lame Hulda), 1858. Kong Sverre (King Sverre), 1861. SigurdSlembe (Sigurd the Bastard), 1862; translated by W. M. Payne, 1888. Maria Stuart i Skotland, 1864. De Nygifte (The Newly-Married Couple), 1865; translated by T. Soelfeldt, 1868; by S. And E. Hjerleid, 1870; asA Lesson in Marriage, by G. I. Colbron, 1911. Sigurd Jorsalfar (Sigurdthe Crusader), 1872. Redaktören (The Editor), 1874. En Fallit (ABankruptcy), 1874. Kongen (The King), 1877. Leonarda, 1879. Detny System (The New System), 1879. En Hanske, 1883; translated as AGauntlet, by H. L. Braekstad 1890; by Osman Edwards 1894. Over AEvne(Beyond our Strength), Part I. , 1883; translated as Pastor Sang, byW. Wilson, 1893; Part II. , 1895. Geografi og Kaerlighed (Geography andLove), 1885; Paul Lange og Tora Parsberg, 1898; translated by H. L. Braekstad, 1899. Laboremus, 1901; translation published by Chapman andHall, 1901. Paa Storhove (At Storhove), 1904; Daglannet, 1904; Naarden ny Vin blomstrer (When the Vineyards are in Blossom), 1909; TheNewly-Married Couple, Leonarda, and A Gauntlet, translated by R. Farquharson Sharp (Everyman's Library), 1912. 

Digte og Sange (Poems and Songs), 1870; Arnljot Gelline, 1870. 

FICTION. --Synnöve Solbakken 1857; translated as Trust and Trial, by MaryHowitt, 1858; as Love and Life in Norway, by Hon. Augusta Bethell and A. Plesner, 1870; as The Betrothal, in H. And A. Zimmern's Half-hours withForeign Novelists, 1880; also translated by Julie Sutter, 1881; by R. B. Anderson, 1881. Arne, 1858; translated by T. Krag, 1861; by A. Plesnerand S. Rugeley-Powers, 1866; by R. B. Anderson, 1881; by W. Low (Bohn'sLibrary), 1890. Smaastykker (Sketches), 1860. En glad Gut, 1860;translated as Ovind, by S. And E. Hjerleid 1869; as The Happy Boy, byR. B. Anderson, 1881; as The Happy Lad (published by Blackie), 1882. Fiskerjenten, 1868 translated as The Fisher Maiden, by M. E. Niles, 1869; as The Fishing Girl, by A. Plesner and F. Richardson, 1870; as TheFishing Girl, by S. And E. Hjerleid, 1871; as The Fisher Maiden, by R. B. Anderson, 1882. Brude-Slaatten, 1873; translated as The Bridal March, by R. B. Anderson, 1882; by J. E. Williams, 1893. Fortaellinger (Tales), 1872. Magnhild, 1877; translated by R. B. Anderson, 1883. KaptejnMansana, 1879; translated as Captain Mansana by R. B. Anderson, 1882. Det flager i Byen og paa Havnen (Flags are Flying in Town and Port), 1884; translated as The Heritage of the Kurts, by C Fairfax 1892. PaaGuds Veje, 1889; translated as In God's Way, by E. Carmichael, 1890. Nye Fortaellinger (New Tales), 1894; To Fortaelinger (Two Tales), 1901;Mary, 1906. Collected edition of the Novels, translated into English, edited by E. Gosse, 13 vols. , 1895-1909. 

[See Life of Björnson by W. M. Payne, 1910; E. Gosse's Study of theWritings of Björnson, in edition of Novels, 1895; H. H. Boyesen's Essayson Scandinavian Literature, 1895; G. Brandes' Critical Studies of Ibsenand Björnson, 1899. ]

THE EDITOR

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

 EVJE, a prosperous distiller. MRS. EVJE. GERTRUD, their daughter, engaged to HARALD REJN. The DOCTOR. The EDITOR. HAAKON REJN, a yeoman farmer. HALVDAN REJN and HARALD REJN, his brothers. The DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT. INGEBORG, maid to the Evjes. JOHN, coachman to the Evjes. HALVDAN REJN's HOUSEKEEPER. HALVDAN REJN's MAID. A Lamplighter. 

The action takes place in a town in Norway. 

ACT I

(SCENE. --The breakfast-room at the EVJES' house. A glass-cupboard, intwo partitions, stands against the left-hand wall, well forward. On thetop of it stand a variety of objects. Beyond it, a stove. At the back ofthe room, a sideboard. In the middle of the room a small round foldingtable, laid for four persons. There is an armchair by the stove; a sofaon the right; chairs, etc. A door at the back of the room, and anotherin the left-hand wall. There are paintings on the walls, and the generalimpression of the room is one of snug comfort. EVJE, MRS. EVJE, andGERTRUD are seated at the table. INGEBORG is standing by the sideboard. Breakfast is proceeding in silence as the curtain rises. INGEBORG takesaway EVJE'S cup and re-fills it. As she brings it back to him, a ring isheard at the bell. GERTRUD gets up. )

Evje. Sit still; John will go to the door. (GERTRUD sits down again. Directly afterwards, another ring is heard. )

Mrs. Evje. What can John be doing?

Ingeborg. I will go. (Goes out. She comes back, showing in HARALD REJN, who hangs up his hat and coat in the hall before coming in. )

Harald. Good morning!

Evje and Mrs. Evje. Good morning! (HARALD shakes hands with them. )

Harald (to GERTRUD, who is sitting on the right). Good morning, Gertrud!Am I a bit late to-day? (GERTRUD, who has taken his hand, looks lovinglyat him but says nothing. )

Mrs. Evje. Yes, I suppose you have been for a long constitutional, although the weather is none of the best. 

Harald. It is not; I expect we shall have a thick fog by the afternoon. 

Evje. Did you have breakfast before you went out?

Harald. I did, thanks. (To INGEBORG, who has come forward with a cup ofcoffee. ) No, thank you. I will sit down here while you are finishing. (Sits down on the sofa behind GERTRUD. )

Mrs. Evje. How is your brother Halvdan?

Harald. A little better to-day, thanks--but of course we cannot build onthat. 

Evje. Is your eldest brother coming to see him?

Harald. Yes, we expect him every day. Probably his wife has come withhim, and that has been the reason of the delay; she finds it difficultto get away. 

Mrs. Evje. Halvdan so often talks of her. 

Harald. Yes, I believe she is the best friend he has. 

Evje. No wonder, then, that she wants to come and say good-bye to him. By the way, have you seen how the paper bids him good-bye to-day?

Harald. Yes, I have seen it. 

Mrs. Evje (hurriedly). I hope Halvdan has not seen it?

Harald (smiling). No, it is a long time now since Halvdan read anewspaper. (A pause. )

Evje. Then I suppose you have read what they say about you too?

Harald. Naturally. 

Mrs. Evje. It is worse than anything they have said about you before. 

Harald. Well--of course, you know, my election meeting comes on thisevening. 

Evje. I can tell you it has upset _us_. 

Mrs. Evje. Day after day we wake up to find our house invaded by theseabominations. That is a nice thought to begin your day's work with!

Harald. Is it so indispensable, then, to educated people to begin theirday by reading such things?

Mrs. Evje. Well--one must have a paper. 

Evje. And most people read it. Besides, one can't deny that a lot ofwhat is in it is true, although its general tendency is to run everyonedown. 

Harald (getting up). Quite so, yes. (Leans over GERTRUD'S shoulder. )Gertrud, have you read it?

Gertrud (does not look at him, and hesitates for a moment; then saysgently): Yes. 

Harald (under his breath). So that is it! (Walks away from her. )

Evje. We have had a little bit of a scene here, I must tell you. 

Harald (walking up and down). Yes, I can understand that. 

Evje. I will repeat what I have said already: they write about _you_, and _we_ have to suffer for it. 

Mrs. Evje. Yes, and Gertrud especially. 

Gertrud. No--I don't want anyone to consider me in the matter at all. Besides, it is not what they say of you in the paper that hurts me--. (Stops abruptly. )

Harald (who has come up to her). But what your parents are feeling aboutit? Is that it? (GERTRUD does not answer. )

Evje (pushing back his plate). There, I have finished! (They rise fromthe table. MRS. EVJE helps INGEBORG to clear away the things, whichINGEBORG carries out of the room. )

Mrs. Evje. Couldn't you wash your hands of politics, Harald? (GERTRUDgoes out to the left. )

Evje (who has followed GERTRUD with his eyes). We cannot deny that itpains us considerably that in our old age our peaceful home should beinvaded by all this squabbling and abomination. 

Mrs. Evje (who rung for INGEBORG to move the table). You have no needto do it, either, Harald! You are a grown man, and your own master. (INGEBORG comes in. HARALD helps her to move the table. )

Evje (to his wife). Don't let Ingeborg hear. Come along, we will go intomy room. 

Mrs. Evje. You forget, all the windows are open there. I have had thefire lit here, so that we could stay here. 

Evje. Very well--then we will sit here. (Sits down by the fire. ) Willyou have a cigar?

Harald. No, thanks. (INGEBORG goes out. )

Evje (taking a cigar and lighting it). As my wife said justnow--couldn't you wash your hands of politics, Harald? You, who haveboth talent and means, need not be at a loss for a vocation in life. 

Harald (sitting down on the sofa). If I have any talent, it is forpolitics--and so I intend to devote my means to that. 

Evje. What do you propose to gain by it?

Harald. What any one who believes in a cause hopes to gain--that is tosay, to help it on. 

Evje. And to become a cabinet minister?

Harald. I certainly can't do that any other way; well, I admit--that_is_ my idea. 

Evje. You will not be elected now. 

Harald. That we shall see. 

Evje. But suppose you are not re-elected to-morrow?

Harald. Then I must find some other way. 

Evje. Always with the same object?

Harald. Always with the same object. (EVJE sighs. )

Mrs. Evje (who has taken her sewing and sat down by the fire). Oh, thesepolitics!

Harald. At any rate, they are the most prominent factors in life justnow. 

Evje. We do not suppose we can exercise any influence over you. Butat any rate it is possible that you yourself have not considered theposition into which you have put the whole of us. (Both he and his wifeavoid looking at HARALD during this discussion. )

Mrs. Evje. Say what you really mean, dear--that he is making us allthoroughly unhappy, and that is the truth!

Harald (getting up, and walking up and down). Well, look here--I havea proposal to make. It is, that you should abandon all opposition toGertrud's marrying me at once. To-day again my brother has expressed thewish that we should be married by his bedside; so that he should be ableto take part in it. I scarcely need add how happy it would make me. 

Evje. But whether she is here at home or married to you, you know, herparents' distress would be just as great every time their child waspersecuted. 

Mrs. Evje. Surely you can appreciate that!

Harald. But what answer am I to give to my brother's request?--mostlikely the last he will ever--. (Stops. )

Evje (after a pause). He is very kind to wish it, as he always is. Nothing would make us happier; but we who are her parents do notconsider that you could make our daughter happy as long as you remain inpolitics and on the lines on which you are now travelling. 

Harald (after a pause, during which he has stood still). That is to say, you contemplate breaking off our engagement?

Evje (looking at him quickly). Far from it!

Mrs. Evje (at the same time). How can you say such a thing?

Evje (turning towards the fire again). We have spoken about it toGertrud to-day--as to whether it would not be possible to induce you tochoose some other career. 

Mrs. Evje. You understand now, why you found Gertrud upset. You mustlisten to us now, as she did, in all friendliness. 

Evje (getting up and standing with his back to the fire). The firstthing I do in the morning is to read my paper. You know what was in itto-day--the same as is in it now every day. 

Mrs. Evje. No; I am sure it has never been as bad as to-day. 

Harald (walking up and down again). The election is just at hand!

Evje. Well--it is just as painful to us, her father and mother, whetherit is before or after the election. We are not accustomed to associatewith any one who has not first-class credentials--and now we have toendure seeing doubt cast upon our own son-in-law's. Do not misunderstandme; to my mind, for credentials to be first-class they must not onlyactually be so, but must also be considered to be so by people ingeneral. (HARALD begins to walk up and down again. ) The second thing Ido in the morning is to open my letters. Amongst to-day's were severalfrom friends we had invited to a party we thought of giving--if, thatis to say, your brother's illness took no sudden turn for the worse. Nofewer than ten of them refuse our invitation--most of them making someexcuse, and a few with a little more show of a real reason; but one ofthem speaks straight out, and I have his letter here. (Takes it from hispocket. ) I have kept it for you. It is from my father's old friend, the bishop. I haven't my spectacles--and for me to have mislaid myspectacles will show you what a state of mind I am in. I don't think Ihave done such a thing for--. Here, read it yourself! Read it aloud!

Harald (taking the letter). "My dear Mr. Evje. As you are my poor dearfriend's son, you must listen to the truth from me. I cannot willinglycome to your house while I might meet there a certain person who, certainly, is one of you, but nevertheless is a person whom I cannothold in entire respect. "

Mrs. Evje. Well, Harald, what do you think our feelings must be when weread things like that?

Evje. Do not imagine that, in spite of that, _we_ do not hold you inentire respect. We only ask you to ensure our daughter's happiness. Youcan do that with a word. 

Mrs. Evje. We know what you are, whatever people say--even if they arebishops. But, in return, you ought to have confidence in our judgment;and our advice to you is, have done with it! Marry Gertrud at once, andgo away for your honeymoon; by the time you come back, people will havegot something else to talk about--and you will have found something elseto occupy you as well. 

Evje. You must not misunderstand us. We mean no coercion. We arenot insisting on this alternative. If you wish to be married, youshall--without feeling yourself obliged to change your vocation for_our_ sakes. We only want to make it clear that it would pain us--painus very deeply. 

Mrs. Evje. If you want to take time to think it over, or want to talk itover with Gertrud or with your brother, do! (GERTRUD comes in and goesabout the room looking for something. )

Evje. What are you looking for, dear?

Gertrud. Oh, for the--. 

Mrs. Evje. I expect it is the newspaper; your grandfather has beenasking for it. 

Evje. Surely there is no need for _him_ to read it?

Mrs. Evje. He asked me for it, too. He knows quite well what has made usall unhappy. 

Evje. Can't you tell him? No, that wouldn't do. 

Mrs. Evje (to GERTRUD). I suppose you have had to confess to him what isthe matter?

Gertrud (trying to conceal an emotion that is almost too much for her). Yes. (Finds the paper, and goes out. )

Mrs. Evje (when GERTRUD has gone). Poor child!

Evje. Does not what she is carrying to him, with all that it says aboutyou and about your brother, seem to you like an omen? I will tell youhow it strikes me. Your brother is a very much more gifted man than Iam; and although it is true, as that paper says, that nothing of allthat he has worked for has ever come to anything, still perhaps he maynevertheless have accomplished more than either you or me, although wehave done a good deal between us to increase the prosperity of our town. I feel that to be so, although I cannot express what I mean precisely. But consider the reputation he will leave behind him. All educatedpeople will say just what that paper says to-day--and to-morrow he willbe forgotten. He will scarcely find a place in history, for history onlyconcerns itself with the great leaders of men. What does it all cometo, then? Neither present nor posthumous fame; but death--death all thetime. He is dying by inches now, dying of the most horrible persecution;and the emotion that his end will cause among a few individuals cannotbe called posthumous fame. (HARALD begins to speak, but checks himself. )Can _you_ hope to make a better fight of it? You think you are stronger?Very well; perhaps you may have the strength to endure it until othertimes come and other opinions with them. But there will be one byyour side who will not have the strength to endure it. Gertrud is notstrong--she could never stand it; indeed now--already--. (Is stopped byhis emotion. )

Mrs. Evje. She hides it from you, but she cannot hide it from us. Besides, a friend of ours--our dear doctor--said only yesterday--. (Breaks off in tears. )

Evje. We never told you, but he warned us some time ago; we had noidea it was so serious, or that it had anything to do with this. But yesterday he frightened us; he said she--. Well, you can ask himyourself. He will be here directly. (HARALD fills a glass of water andraises it to his lips, but sets it down again untasted. )

Mrs. Evje (going to him). I am so sorry for you, Harald! To have thiscome on you just now--when your splendid brother is at the point ofdeath, and you yourself are being persecuted! (A ring is heard at thebell. )

Evje. But it should be a warning to you! Sometimes a single movementwill change the course of a whole life. 

Mrs. Evje. And do have a little confidence in us! (A ring is heardagain. )

Evje. What on earth has become of John to-day? That is the second timethe bell has rung. 

Mrs. Evje. One of the maids is opening the door, I can hear. 

Evje. I expect it is the doctor. 

Mrs. Evje. Yes, it is he--I know his ring. (A knock is heard at thedoor. )

Evje. Come in! (The DOCTOR comes in. )

The Doctor. Good morning! (Lays down his hat and stick. ) Well, so I hearJohn has been up to his pranks again? The rascal is in bed. 

Evje and Mrs. Evje. In bed?

The Doctor. Came home at four o'clock in the morning, drunk. Ill to-day, naturally. Ingeborg asked me to go in and see him. 

Evje. Well!--I am determined to put an end to it!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, I have never been able to understand why you were solenient with John. 

Evje. He has been with us five years; and, besides, it makes people talkso, if you have to send your servants away. 

Mrs. Evje. But surely this sort of thing makes them talk much worse!

Evje. Well--he shall leave this very day. 

The Doctor (to HARALD). How are you, Rejn?--Oho! I understand. I havecome at an inopportune moment with my complaints of John? You have allgot something more serious on your minds?

Mrs. Evje. Yes, we have had it out, as we agreed yesterday. 

The Doctor. You must forgive me, my dear Rejn, for having told my oldfriends the whole truth yesterday. She (pointing to MRS. EVJE) was anold playfellow of mine, and her husband and I have been friends fromboyhood; so we have no secrets from each other. And Gertrud's conditionmakes me very uneasy. 

Harald. Why have you never told me that before?

The Doctor. Goodness knows I have often enough given her parents hintsthat she was not well; but they have only made up their minds that herhappiness in her engagement would quite cure her. They are a consideratecouple, these two dear people, you know; they didn't want to seeminterfering. 

Harald. Their consideration--which I appreciate and have lately hadconstant reason to be grateful for--has all at once become a morepowerful weapon than open opposition. It makes a duty of what I shouldotherwise have felt to be unfair coercion. But now the situation is suchthat I can neither go forward nor back. After what I have gone through, you must see that I cannot withdraw on the very eve of the election--andafter the election it will be too late. On the other hand--(withemotion)--I cannot, I dare not, go on with it if it is to cost me--. (Breaks off. )

Evje (standing in front of the fire). There, there! Take time to thinkit over, my dear boy; talk it over with her and with your brother. 

The Doctor (who has sat down on a chair to the left, a little away fromthe others). I have just been to see your brother. A remarkable man! Butdo you know what occurred to me as I sat there? He is dying because he_is_ a man. The only people that are fit for political life nowadays arethose whose hearts have been turned to stone. (Picks up something fromthe table and gets up. ) Ah, just look here! Here is a fine specimenof petrifaction. It is a fragment of palm leaf of some kind, foundimpressed in a bit of rock from Spitzbergen. I sent it you myself, soI know it. That is what you have to be like to withstand arcticstorms!--it will take to harm. But your brother--well, his life had beenlike that of the original palm tree, with the air sighing through itsbranches; the change of climate was too sudden for him. (Goes up toHARALD. ) You have still to try it. Shall you be able to kill all thehumanity that is in you? If you can make yourself as insensate a thingas this stone, I daresay you will be able to stand the life. But are youwilling to venture upon political life at such a price? If you are--sobe it; but remember that in that case you must also kill all humanityin Gertrud--in these two--in every one that is dear to you. Otherwise noone will understand you or follow you. If you cannot do that, you willnever be more than a dabbler in politics--a quarter, an eighth part, ofa politician--and all your efforts, in what you consider your vocation, will be pitiable!

Mrs. Evje (who has been occupied at the back of the room, but now sitsdown by the fare). That is quite true! I know cases of petrifaction likethat--and God preserve anyone that I love from it!

Evje (coming forward towards HARALD). I don't want to say anything tohurt your feelings--least of all just now. But I just want to add mywarning, because I believe I have discovered that there is a danger thatpersecution may make you hard. 

Harald. Yes!--but do you suppose it is only politics that offer thatdangerous prospect?

The Doctor. You are quite right! It is all the cry nowadays, "Hardenyourself!" It isn't only military men and doctors that have to behardened; commercial men have to be hardened, civil servants have to behardened, or dried up; and everybody else has to be hardened for life, apparently. But what does it all mean? It means that we are to drive outall warmth from our hearts, all desire from our imaginations. There is achild's heart at the bottom of every one of our hearts-ever young, fullof laughter and tears; and that is what we shall have killed before weare "fitted for the battle of life, " as they put it. No, no--that iswhat we ought to preserve; we were given it for that! (HARALD hides hisface in his hands, and sits so for some time. )

Mrs. Evje. Any mother or any wife knows that. 

Evje (standing with his back to the fire). You want to bring back theage of romance, doctor!

The Doctor (with a laugh). Not its errors--because in those days uncleanminds brought to birth a great deal that was unclean. (Seriously. ) Butwhat is it, when all is said and done, but a violent protest on thepart of the Teutonic people against the Romanesque spirit and school--aremarkable school, but not _ours_. To us it seems a barren, merelyintellectual school--a mere mass of formulas which led to a precociousdevelopment of the mind. And that was the spirit it bred--critical andbarren. But these schools of thought are now all we have, and both ofthem are bad for us! They have no use for the heart or the imagination;they do not breed faith or a longing for high achievement. Look at _our_life! Is our life really our own?

Mrs. Evje. No. You have only to think of our language, our tastes, oursociety, our--

The Doctor (interrupting her). Those are the externals of our life, merely the externals! No, look within--look at such a view of life aswe were talking about, clamouring for "hardening"--is that ours? Can we, for all our diligence, make as much way in it as, for instance, a bornParisian journalist?--become like a bar of steel with a point at eachend, a pen-point and a sword-point? _We_ can't do that; the Teutonictemperament is not fitted for it. 

Evje. Oh, we are well on the way towards it. Look at the heartlessintolerance in our politics; it will soon match what you weredescribing. 

Harald. Everyone that disagrees with you is either an ambitiousscoundrel, or half mad, or a blockhead. 

The Doctor (laughing). Yes, and here in the north, in our smallcommunities, where a man meets all his enemies in the same barber'sshop, we feel it as keenly as if we were digging our knives into eachother! (Seriously. ) We may laugh at it, but if we could add up the sumof suffering that has been caused to families and to individuals--if wecould see the concrete total before us--we should be tempted to believethat our liberty had been given to us as a curse! For it _is_ a cursedthing to destroy the humanity that is in us, and make us cruel and hardto one another. 

Harald (getting up, but standing still). But, my good friends, if youare of the same mind about that, and I with you--what is the next thingto do?

The Doctor. The next thing to do?

Harald. Naturally, to unite in making an end of it. 

Mrs. Evje (as she works). What can _we_ do?

Evje. I am no politician and do not wish to become one. 

The Doctor (laughing, and sitting down). No, a politician is aprinciple, swathed round with a printed set of directions for use. Iprefer to be allowed to be a human being. 

Harald. No one can fairly insist on your taking up any vocation to whichyou do not feel you have a calling. 

The Doctor. Of course not. 

Harald. But one certainly might insist on your not helping to maintain acondition of affairs that you detest. 

All. We?

Harald. This newspaper, which is the ultimate reason of all thisconversation we have had--you take it in. 

Evje. Why, you take it in yourself!

Harald. No. Every time there is anything nasty in it about me or mine, it is sent to me anonymously. 

The Doctor (with a laugh). I don't take it in; I read my hall-porter'scopy. 

Harald. I have heard you say that before. I took an opportunity to askyour hall-porter. He said _he_ did not read it, and did not take it ineither. 

The Doctor (as before). Then I should like to know who does pay for it!

Evje. A newspaper is indispensable to a business man. 

Harald. An influential business man could by himself, or at any ratewith one or two others, start a paper that would be as useful again tohim as this one is. 

Evje. That is true enough; but, after all, if we agree with itspolitics?

Harald. I will accept help from any one whose opinions on public affairsagree with my own. Who am I that I should pretend to judge him? But Iwill not give him my help in anything that is malicious or wicked. 

The Doctor. Pshaw!

Harald. Everyone who subscribes to, or contributes to, or gives anyinformation to a paper that is scurrilous, is giving his help to whatis wicked. And, moreover, every one who is on terms of friendship with aman who is destroying public morality, is helping him to do it. 

The Doctor (getting up). Does he still come here? (A silence. )

Evje. He and I are old schoolfellows--and I don't like breaking with oldacquaintances. 

Mrs. Evje. He is a most amusing man, too--though I can't deny that he ismalicious. (The DOCTOR sits down again, humming to himself. )

Harald. But that is not all. Both you and the Doctor have--with someeloquence--

The Doctor (with a laugh). Thank you!

Harald. --expressed your abhorrence of certain political tendencies withwhich neither you nor I have any sympathy--which affront our ideas ofhumane conduct. You do not feel called upon to enter actively into thelists against them; but why do you try to prevent those who do feel socalled upon? You lament the existing state of things--and yet you helpto maintain it, and make a friend of the man who is its champion!

The Doctor (turning his head). Apparently we are on our defence, Evje!

Harald. No--I am. I was told a little while ago that I was in a fair wayto become hardened and callous, and that I must abandon my career--andthat I must do so for Gertrud's sake, too, because she would never beable to share the fight with me. I was told this at one of the bitterestmoments in my life. And that made me hesitate for a moment. But now Ihave turned my face forward again, because you have enlightened me! (Ashort, sharp cough is heard in the hall. )

Mrs. Evje (getting up). That is he! (A knock is heard at the door; theDOCTOR gets up and pushes his chair back. The EDITOR comes in. )

The Editor. Good morning, my children! How are you?

Mrs. Evje (sitting down). I did not hear the bell. 

The Editor. I don't suppose you did--I came in by the back door. I tookyou by surprise, eh? Discussing me, too--what? (Laughs. )

Evje. You have given us enough reason to, to-day, any way. 

The Editor. Yes, haven't I? Such a thing for a man to do to his bestfriends--eh?

Evje. That is true. 

The Editor. To his old schoolfellows--his neighbours--eh? I expect ithas disturbed your natural moderation--eh?

Evje. I pride myself on my moderation. 

The Editor. As much as on your brandy!

Evje. Are you going to begin your nonsense again?

The Editor. Good-morning, Doctor! Have you been making them a finespeech this morning?--about my paper? or about humanity?--romanticism?or catholicism?--eh? (Laughs. )

The Doctor (laughing). Certainly one of us two has made a fine speechthis morning!

The Editor. Not me; mine was made yesterday!--How is your hall-porter?

The Doctor (laughing). Quite well, I am ashamed to say. 

The Editor. There's a faithful subscriber to my paper, if you like! (TheDOCTOR laughs. ) Well, Mrs. Evje, I can give you news of your man, MasterJohn!

Mrs. Evje. Can you? It is more than I can. 

The Editor. Yes--he is in bed still. That is why I came in the backway--to enquire after his health. 

Mrs. Evje. But how--?

The Editor. How is he after last night?

Mrs. Evje. Really, I believe you know everything. We had no idea he wasout last night. 

The Editor. Oh, that is the very latest intelligence! He has beenfiguring as a speaker--he was drunk, of course--before the Associationfounded by his master's future son-in-law. And he made a most effectivespeech--indeed, the speakers at that Association always make mosteffective speeches! It was all about a Sliding Scale of Taxation, Profit-Sharing for Workers, the necessity for a Labour majority inParliament, etc. , etc. , all the usual Socialist rhodomontade. You seehow infectious intellectual ideas are!

Evje. Well!--I shall turn him out of the house to-day!

The Editor. But that is not in accordance with your love of moderation, Evje!

Evje. It is a scandal. 

The Editor (to EVJE). But not the worst. Because, if you want to avoidthat sort of thing, there are others you must turn out of the house. (Glances towards HARALD. )

Evje. You seem determined to quarrel to-day?

The Editor. Yes, with your "moderation. "

Evje. You would be none the worse of a little of it. 

The Editor. "Brandy and Moderation" is your watchword--eh?

Evje. Do stop talking such nonsense!--I know one thing, and that is thatyou seem to find the brandy from my distillery remarkably to your taste!

The Doctor (interrupting them). When you are in these provoking moodsthere is always some grievance lurking at the back of your mind. Outwith it! I am a doctor, you know; I want to get at the cause of yourcomplaint!

The Editor. You were not very successful in that, you know, when yousaid my maid had cholera, and she really only was--. (Laughs. )

The Doctor (laughing). Are you going to bring that story up again? Everyone is liable to make mistakes, you know--even you, my boy!

The Editor. Certainly. But before making a mistake this time--ahem!--Iwanted first of all to enquire whether--

The Doctor. Ah! now it is coming!

The Editor--whether you have any objection to my mentioning John in mypaper?

Mrs. Evje. What has John to do with us?

The Editor. Just as much as the Association, where he delivered hisspeech, has; it--ahem!--is one of the family institutions!

Evje. I have had no more to do with making John what he is than I havehad with making that Association what it is. 

The Editor. Your future son-in-law made the Association what it is, andthe Association has made John what he is. 

The Doctor. Or, to put it the other way round: John is Mr. Evje'sservant; John has become an active member of the Association; thereforeMr. Evje is a patron of the Association. 

The Editor. Or this way: John, being the well-known Mr. Evje's servant, has for that reason become an active member of the Association which--ashe expressed it--his employer's future son-in-law "has had the honour tofound!"

Mrs. Evje. Surely you never mean to put that in the paper?

The Editor (laughing). They are John's own words. 

Mr. Evje. Of course, he would never put a tipsy man's maunderings intothe paper. (To his wife. ) Don't you understand that he is joking?

The Editor (clearing his throat). It is already in type. 

The Doctor. Oh, nonsense!

The Editor. The scene afforded an opportunity for an extremely amusingsketch, without mentioning any names. 

Mr. Evje. I sincerely hope that

The Doctor (to EVJE). Oh, he is only teasing you! You know him. 

The Editor. What do you think of this? "Those who indirectly supportso dangerous an institution will have to face exposure. "--I quite agreewith it. 

Mrs. Evje (getting up). What do you mean? Do you mean that my husband--?

The Editor. A little fright will be a good discipline for him!

Evje. Is what you quoted meant as an accusation against us--whether youare serious or whether you are joking?

The Doctor. He is only trying to frighten you with a bogey; it is notthe first time, you know!

Evje. Yes, but what have _I_ to be frightened of? I don't belong to theAssociation. 

The Editor. But persons who do belong to it frequent your house. A manis known by the company he keeps. 

Mrs. Evje. I really begin to think he _does_ mean it seriously. 

The Editor. It is too ugly a thing to jest about, you mean?

Evje. Is it possible that you seriously mean to allude to John as myservant?

The Editor. Isn't he your servant?

Evje. And to put that in the paper for every one to read?

The Editor. No--only for those who read the paper. 

Evje. And you have come here to tell us that?

The Editor. Do you suppose I would do it without telling you?

Mrs. Evje. It is perfectly shameless!

The Editor. It certainly is. 

Evje. Is it your intention to quarrel with me?

The Editor. Of course!

Evje. With your own schoolfellow?--one who has been it true friend toyou in all your ups and downs? It is abominable!

The Editor. Perhaps it was to ensure my holding my tongue that you havebeen my friend!

Mrs. Evje. You _couldn't_ behave in such a fashion to a friend!

The Editor (drily). To my own brother, if he stood in my way!

Harald (to himself). This is too much! (Comes forward. ) Is your hatredfor me so bitter that on my account you must persecute even my futureparents-in-law, your own old friends?

The Editor (who, as soon as HARALD came forward, has turned away tothe DOCTOR). Have you heard how people are being beaten up to go tothe meeting of electors to-night? The last political speeches of thecampaign must be made with red fire burning at the wings! (Laughs. )

Mrs. Evje (coming up to him). No, you are not going to get out of it bychanging the subject. Is it really your intention to put my husband inyour paper?

The Editor. He is putting himself there. 

Evje. I, who all my life have avoided being drawn into any politicalparty?

The Doctor. What has Evje to do with Harald Rein's politics?

The Editor. He endorses them!

Mrs. Evje. No!--a thousand times no!

Evje. Why, only to-day

The Doctor. I can bear witness to that!

The Editor. It is no use protesting!

Evje. But you must believe our protestations!

The Editor. Bah! You will see something more to-morrow--

Evje. Something more?

Mrs. Evje. Against my husband?

The Editor. That scandal about the Stock Exchange Committee. Noless than three Letters to the Editor about it have been lying in mypigeon-holes for some time. 

Evje (in bewilderment). Are you going to put nonsense of that sort inyour paper? The most respected men on the Exchange--?

Mrs. Evje. Members of the Committee--?

The Editor. They are only respected men so long as they respectthemselves. When their chairman enters into connections which offendpublic opinion, the whole crew of them must be made to feel what sort ofa man it is they are associating with. 

The Doctor. So on Mr. Rejn's account you are going to expose Evje, andon Evje's account the Stock Exchange Committee? I suppose my turn willcome soon!

The Editor. It will come. 

The Doctor. Indeed!

The Editor. The letters that have been sent to me are all from highlyrespected men. That shows that public opinion has turned round; andpublic opinion must be obeyed! (Throws out his hands. )

Evje (in a troubled voice). It is quite true that I have noticed inseveral little ways that their temper--. (Looks round him, and checkshimself. Then speaks more confidently. ) But it was just at such a timethat I looked for help from you, my friend. That is why I did not bothermyself much about it. 

The Editor (to EVJE). But you know it is you that are attacking me now!

Evje. I?

Mrs. Evje. He?

The Editor. And, besides, I have no choice in the matter. You have madeyour bed, and must lie on it. 

Evje (growing angry again). But do you really mean that you don't feelyourself how shocking such behaviour in an old friend is?

The Editor. "Old friend, " "old schoolfellow, " "neighbour, "--out with thewhole catalogue!

Mrs. Evje. I am sure you don't deserve to be either one or the other!(The EDITOR laughs. ) Think what you wrote to-day about Halvdan Rejn, whois dying. A man could only write that who--who--

The Editor. Well?--who?

Mrs. Evje. Who has not an atom of heart. 

The Editor. Ha, ha! "The natural affections!"--"family considerations!"Truth, my dear lady, has no family ties; it has no respect even for a"dying man. "

Mrs. Evje. Yes, indeed--every decent man has some respect for suffering, and even wicked men are silent in the presence of death!

The Editor. "Sufferer"--"dying man"--"martyr, " I suppose! Oh, we knowall that old story!

Harald (coming forward). Let me tell you that you are a--person withwhom I will not condescend to argue. (Walks away from him. )

The Editor (who has at once crossed the room). This theatrical flauntingof the "dying man" before people's eyes, that a calculating brother haspermitted himself, is of course what is really shocking in the wholeaffair. But I will tear the mask off him. 

The Doctor (following him). Listen to me, now; listen! We aregentlefolk, you know! And even if Mr. Rejn has let himself be so carriedaway as to mention his dying brother on a public occasion--well, I amnot going to say that I approve of it, but surely it is excusable and--

Harald (coming forward). I want none of your defence, thank you!

The Doctor. The one of you is just as mad as the other! (To the EDITOR. )But what has all this to do with Evje, seeing that, after all, the wholeof this affair of the Rejns'--

Evje (to the EDITOR, eagerly). I give you my word of honour that I havenever approved of Harald's utterances about his brother, either. I am aman of moderation, as you know; I do not approve of his politics. Onlyto-day--

Mrs. Evje. And what on earth have politics to do with the Stock ExchangeCommittee?

The Doctor. Or with Evje's coachman!

Evje. You might just as well take it into your head to write about myclerks, or my workmen, or--

The Doctor. His carpenters, or his brewers--or his horses!

The Editor (stands suddenly still and says, drily): You may assureyourselves that things are quite sufficient as they are! (Begins tobutton up his coat. )

Evje. Is it so bad as all that!

Mrs. Evje. Good gracious!--what is it then?

The Editor (taking up his hat). You will be able to read it to-morrow, together with some more about the "dying man. " Good-bye!

Evje and Mrs. Evje (together. ) But before you go--

The Doctor. Hush, hush! Let us remember we are gentlefolk! What will youbet that the whole thing is not just a bogey to frighten you?

The Editor (holding out his hand towards the DOCTOR). I hold Mr. Evje'sposition in the town in the hollow of my hand!

Evje (fuming). Is your object to ruin _that_, then?

Mrs. Evje. You will never succeed in that!

The Doctor. Hush, hush! let us remember we are gentlefolk!

Evje. In my own house--my old schoolfellow--that he should have theaudacity--!

The Editor. I have told you the truth openly. And, as far as that goes, you have stood more than that from me in your own house, my boy. Becausethe misfortune is that you are a coward. 

Evje. _I_ a coward?

The Doctor (laughing). Hush, hush! Let us remember we are gentlefolk!

Evje. Yes, I have been weak enough to be afraid of scandal, especiallyin the newspapers, it is true; that is why I have put up with you toolong! But now you shall see that I am not a coward. Leave my house!

Mrs. Evje. That's right!

The Doctor. But you must part like gentlefolk, you know. 

The Editor. Pooh! You will be sending me a message directly, to call meback!

Evje. You have the face to say that?

Mrs. Evje (to EVJE). Come, dear, don't provoke him any more!

The Editor (turning to go). You daren't do otherwise. 

The Doctor. But part like gentlefolk--!

Evje (following the EDITOR). No, as sure as I live--

The Editor. You will be sending a message to call me back! Ha, ha, ha!

Evje. Never, never!

Mrs. Evje. My dear--!

The Editor. Yes, you will--directly--this very day! Ha, ha, ha!

The Doctor. Don't part like that! Part like gentle--

Evje. No, I tell you!

The Editor (laughing all the time). Yes!

Mrs. Evje. My dear-remember you may bring on one of your attacks!

The Editor (at the door). You are too much of a coward! Ha! ha! (Goesout. )

Evje (in a rage). No!

The Editor (sticking his head in at the door). Yes! (Goes away. )

The Doctor. What a visit! I cannot help laughing, all the same! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Evje. Do you dare to laugh at that?

The Doctor. "Old schoolfellows"--ha, ha! "Moderation"--ha, ha! "The sameparty"--ha, ha, ha!

Mrs. Evje. Oh, my husband is ill!

Evje (faintly). Yes--a little water!

Mrs. Evje. Water, water, Harald!

The Doctor. One of his attacks--that is another affair altogether. Here(takes a bottle from his pocket)--smell this! That's it! Now, a littlewater! (Gives him some. ) No danger this time. Cheer up, old boy!

Evje. What a scandal!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, you will never be able to bear it, dear; I told you so. 

Evje. To think of _my_ name appearing in the papers, when all my life Ihave--

Mrs. Evje. --done everything you could to keep clear of such things! Andyou such a dear, good, upright man!--Oh, these politics are the curse ofthe world!

The Doctor (laughing). As I told you, you must go through a specialprocess of hardening before you can stand them. 

Evje. And think of public opinion--my position--my connections! It ismore than I can bear!

Mrs. Evje (to the Doctor). I am sure the first time he reads somethingabout himself in the paper, it will make him really ill! He won't beable to stand it, I know. 

The Doctor. Oh, he will get over it. 

Mrs. Evje. No, he won't. I am frightened at the mere thought of it. Hewill never be able to bear it, never!

Evje. When all my life I have tried to keep clear of such things--!

Mrs. Evje. And now in your old age, though you deserve it no more thana child does, to be dragged into it! If I could prevent that, I wouldwillingly take on my own shoulders whatever--

Evje. No, no--not you! Not you!

The Doctor. But the thing is not necessarily done because he threatenedhe would do it. 

Evje. Do you think--?

The Doctor. He is so dreadfully hot-headed, but I am sure he will thinktwice--

Mrs. Evje. --before he attacks a lifelong friend! Yes, that is so, isn'tit!

Evje. Do you really think that there is any possibility then--?

The Doctor. I really can't say!

Mrs. Evje. Nothing in the world is impossible!

Evje. We were both so hot-headed. 

The Doctor. Yes, it will have to be a more peaceable conversation thanthat of a few minutes ago!

Evje. I don't know how it is--there is something so provoking about him. 

Mrs. Evje. Yes, and you have not been very well lately, either. I haveoften said so to you. 

Evje. No, I haven't. It has been just one thing after another! And allmy life I have tried to keep clear of such things!

The Doctor. I will tell you what, old friend; I am sure the best thingto do would be--

Evje. What?

The Doctor. I am sure you will not be easy in your mind until someonehas talked to him. 

Mrs. Evje. Yes, couldn't that be done? Good gracious, that is notsending a message to him!

Evje. But who would--? (A short silence. )

The Doctor. I don't know who would be best. 

Mrs. Evje. All our old friends have deserted us; we shall soon havenone. 

The Doctor. Well, at all events, you have me. 

Evje. Would you really be willing to--? Do you mean it? (Grasps hishand. )

The Doctor. Of course I will! He can't eat me!

Mrs. Evje. How good you are! Of course you only need tell him--what isquite true--that my husband would never be able to bear it! He, who allthese years--

Evje. --have put up with an incredible amount for his sake, both fromhimself and from others!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, that is true! And now you will go, dear friend--our onlyfriend!--and talk to him quite amicably and sensibly, won't you?

Evje. But don't delay! He is so hot-headed that we must find himbefore--

The Doctor. Oh, I will find him; he is always about the town. 

Evje. And tell him--ask him--

The Doctor. Oh, I know what to say to him. 

Mrs. Evje. That is right!

Evje. Thank you! I shall never forget how, at a moment when everythingthreatened to overwhelm me, you were the only one to stand by me! Ah, Ifeel as if a load had fallen off my shoulders! I feel all at once quitehappy again!

The Doctor. That's right. You pull yourself together! I will see toeverything else. 

Evje. Thanks, thanks! But make haste!

The Doctor. I am off! My hat? (Turns, and sees HARALD, and says tohimself. ) A-ha! He looks as if he had had about enough of this. It wouldhave been a joke to--

Evje. Oh, do make haste, my friend!

The Doctor. Yes, yes--if only I could find my hat. 

Mrs. Evje. It is on the table. 

The Doctor. So it is!

Evje. Good luck to you!

Mrs. Evje. And do it very tactfully!

The Doctor (meaningly). And I hope you three will enjoy yourselves!(Goes out. )

Evje. What a morning!

Mrs. Evje. We, who have always endeavoured to take everything quietlyand indulgently--

Evje. Yes, and to conduct our family affairs peaceably andaffectionately! (Jumps up and turns to HARALD. ) The whole thing is_your_ fault!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, it is Harald's fault! From the day this unfortunateengagement came about, we have scarcely had a moment's peace here. 

Evje. No, no, that is not the case! We must be reasonable. At first, when Mr. Rejn had a fine future before him, when people vied with oneanother to catch him, then the engagement was an honour to us as wellas to our daughter. But from the moment he took up these wretchedpolitics--that is to say, from the time his brother fell ill--well, hecan see for himself what the result has been to us!

Mrs. Evje. And he certainly must admit that it is not what we havedeserved; indeed it is more than a respected and well-bred family canput up with. 

Harald. I quite agree that it is more than a respected and well-bredfamily _ought_ to put up with. 

Mrs. Evje. Oh, so _you_ feel that too?

Harald. Certainly. And the only excuse I can see is that there are manymore in the same case. It is only in that way that such things becomepossible. 

Evje. I do not understand. Many more like--?--like whom?

Harald. Like you!

Mrs. Evje. In what respect?

Harald. I will explain. Most of the successful politicians nowadays havenot gained their position by means of any greatness of their own, butby the pitiable weakness of others. Another age will form a differentestimate of them--see them in their proper perspective, and find them tobe much smaller men!

Evje. But what has that to do with us?

Harald. Well, just try to size up that man whom a little while ago youturned out of your house and afterwards sent a message to--

Evje. We sent _no_ message to him!

Mrs. Evje. A friend of ours has gone to talk to him. That is quite adifferent thing!

Harald. Well, take his measure by yours and yours by his! He went away, and he will come back like a conquering hero. Will that be thanks tohis greatness, or his talent--to the loftiness of his opinions or hisfeelings? No, --it will be thanks to your pitiable weakness. 

Mrs. Evje. Upon my word!

Evje. Well, I--!

Harald. Do you think any one who has any pluck in his disposition wouldconsent to be a party to such a contemptible state of things? Think ofyour own daughter, educated by that good old man who lies in there, butan obedient child to you; think how she must be perpetually torn betweenwhat she loves and respects and what she sees going on here! No wondershe is ill! But remember this--she is not ill because she sticks to me;she is ill because of your pitiable weakness!

Mrs. Evje. How can you dare to say such things! So you too--!

Evje. Such an absolute want of respect!

Harald. Listen to me, once for all. I intend, God helping me, to takeup the fight that has killed my brother, the noblest man I know! AndGertrud is going to take up _her_ share in the fight, as I do mine. Butto come to this house as long as _he_ comes here--to go through what Ihave gone through to-day--sullies my self-respect to such an extent, and offends my better feelings so deeply, that either he never sets foothere again, or I do not!

Evje and Mrs. Evje. But--!

Harald (quietly). When I came here to-day, I thought we should be ableto arrange matters without my speaking out; but there is nothing elsefor it, so good-bye! (Goes out. A moment's silence follows. )

Mrs. Evje. Is _he_ giving _us_ our dismissal? Or does he not really meanto break with us?--My dear, what is the matter? (Goes to her husband'sside. )

Evje (without moving). Tell me, my dear--am I a bad man?

Mrs. Evje. You, a bad man?

Evje. Because, if I were not a bad, wicked man, they could not behave insuch a way to me, one after the other. 

Mrs. Evje. But, my dear, you are the best and dearest and mostconsiderate of men! And they are shameless traitors to you, my dearhusband!

Evje. But how on earth, then, could it come about that I, who all mylife have tried to keep clear of such things--for I have, haven't I?

Mrs. Evje. Every one knows that, that knows anything about you. 

Evje. How could it come about that in my old age I should be despisedand forsaken by everybody? Surely it is no crime to want to live inpeace, apart from all that sort of thing?

Mrs. Evje. No, indeed; that is what all decent people want to do. 

Evje. Yes, I thought so too. But now you see!

Mrs. Evje. But _you_ have been dreadfully unfortunate. 

Evje. Why should I have been just the one to be dreadfully unfortunate?Most people escape such things altogether. 

Mrs. Evje (starting). Here is Gertrud. 

Evje. Poor child!

Mrs. Evje. What on earth are we to say to her?

Evje. Be careful, my dear! be careful! (GERTRUD comes in quietly andcomes forward to them. )

Gertrud. Did I see Harald go away?

Mrs. Evje. Yes, my child, he--he went away. 

Gertrud. Without saying good-bye to me?

Evje. That's true, he didn't say good-bye to you. 

Mrs. Evje. Were you expecting him to come into grandfather's room to saygood-bye to you?

Gertrud. Yes. Tell me how things went here?

Evje. Why were you not here, dear?

Gertrud (in astonishment). I here? You said you did not want me to bepresent--

Evje. I remember, yes; we thought it would not be advisable. 

Gertrud (still speaking quietly, but in growing alarm). But how didthings go, then?

Evje. How did they go? Badly. 

Mrs. Evje (hurriedly). That is to say, he did not behave at all well. You must prepare yourself for the worst, my child!

Gertrud. Is it something very bad, then?

Evje. You know he is a little hasty just now, when he has so much on hishands. He lacks a proper sense of moderation--but he will learn it, sureenough. 

Gertrud (almost inaudibly). But what does it mean? Is he never comingback?

Evje. Never coming back? What an extraordinary question! Of course hewill come back. He was only a little over-hasty, you know--

Gertrud. And said he would never come back?

Mrs. Evje. Come, come, my dear--you mustn't be alarmed. 

Evje. He talked such a lot, you know, that we must not attach anyparticular importance to anything he said. 

Gertrud. So that is how it is!

Mrs. Evje. We must make allowances for all that he is going through justnow--

Evje (suddenly). My child, you look so pale--

Mrs. Evje (going to her). Gertrud!

Gertrud (with a quiet movement of protest). I must give grandfather hisdrink; that was really what I came for. And that was how I happened tosee Harald through the window. I will take grandfather his drink. (Thecurtain falls as she goes out of the room. )

ACT II

(SCENE. --A street in the "villa quarter" of the town. Between it andanother street running parallel with it in the background, are twohouses standing in gardens, half of the facade of one of them projectinginto the stage on the right. On the left a third street runs at rightangles to the others, to the back of the stage. The left side of thisthird street opens onto a well-wooded park. The house in the foregroundon the right is in two stories. There is a narrow strip of garden infront of it, enclosed by an iron railing with a gate in it. The gate isstanding open. The entrance door to the house is immediately behind thisgate. There is light in a small window by the door; the ground floorwindows are in darkness; in those of the upper floor, light is visiblethrough heavy curtains. It is a wintry evening, and everything isswathed in an unusually thick fog, in which the gas lamps in the streetsshow dimmer and dimmer as they recede in the distance. As the curtaingoes up, a lamplighter is seen descending his ladder from a lamp-post, where he has just lit the lamp at the corner of the house. )

The Lamplighter (as he reaches the ground). It's all one whether thelamps are lit or not, in such a fog as this. (MRS. EVJE is seen drawingback the curtain at a window on the first floor. She opens the windowand looks out. )

Mrs. Evje. The fog is so thick, my dear, that I can't see across thestreet. 

Evje (coming to the window, with fur coat and cap on). So it is!--Well, so much the better, my dear! (They withdraw into the room; the window isshut and the curtains drawn. Two passers-by come along the street fromthe right, talking. )

First Passer-by. The Land of Fogs--the old idea of the land of Fogs wasthat of a vision of confused and faint sensation, with the light of theintelligence dimmed and blurred like these gas lamps in the fog. 

Second Passer-by. It would be that, if our hearts did not often act asguiding lights to our befogged intelligences. Look at this house behindus--the brandy distiller's. The devilish workings of his intelligencehave befogged the whole country--befogged it with brandy--and some suchguiding light is much needed there. 

First Passer-by. Ah, well, --the old idea of the Land of Fogs was thatfogs were--. (The sound of their conversation dies away as they passinto the park on the left. GERTRUD, closely veiled and wrapped in furs, comes slowly out of the park. She stops at the corner and looks down thestreet, then passed slowly along to the right, looking up at the houseas she goes. She is scarcely out of sight when the house-door opens andEVJE comes out. )

Evje. This is about the time he comes home--I daren't go to his houseand ask for him; I don't know if he would admit me. I daren't trust tothe Doctor alone. --This uncertainty is dreadful! (He starts at seeingGERTRUD, whom he does not recognise in the fog, walking towards him. Sheturns suddenly and walks back the way she came. ) Who was that? She gaveme quite a fright in this fog! Her furs seemed rather like--no, no, it couldn't be. I must not let any one recognise me. (Puts up the highcollar of his coat, so that only his nose is visible. ) Both of themcalled me a coward, but they are very much mistaken. It is not cowardicefor a man who is respected and honoured to try and avoid scandal. Hm!Naturally those who trade in scandals think otherwise!--To act withoutattaching weight to the opinion of others, to disregard one's ownpredilections, to put up with being laughed at--all for the sake ofpreventing a scandal--that is to be strong and courageous. And it _is_admirable, too; for it is admirable to act fearlessly in the interestof one's family, and of one's business, and of propriety. (Starts as hehears his door opened. JOHN has come along the street and gone into thehouse. ) Is that some one coming out of my house? No, it is a man goingin. And then to think of Harald Rejn beginning that nonsense about mybeing a coward, because I refused to become a party man! Every oneought to take sides in politics--that is their cry. Hm! I should say itrequired rather more courage nowadays to _refrain_ from taking sides. (Starts again. ) Who is that? Oh, only that woman again. She is waitingfor some one too. I expect we shall both catch bad colds. (Walks up anddown. ) It is an odd sensation to be walking up and down on the watchoutside one's own house. Cowardice? Pshaw! To let one's self be abusedin a public street without stirring a finger to prevent it, _that_ wouldbe cowardice. I only hope he has not gone round the other way? There ismuch more traffic in that street, and some one might easily--. I think Iwill take a turn towards the town, and turn back when I am a little wayfrom here; it will look less suspicious. I must catch him, because hispaper will be going to press. (Looks up at his house. ) My poor wife, sitting up there dreadfully alarmed on my account! (Goes out to theright. As soon as he has gone, the house-door opens and JOHN comeswarily out. )

JOHN. So he has gone out, has he! Oh, well, he is bound to come inagain! I will wait and catch him, that I will! Tra, la, la, la, la! Ican play about here in the fog till he comes back; I have nothing tolose! And it will be best to catch him in the street; he will make lessfuss, and can't run away from me! Tra, la, la, la, la! (Lounges out tothe right. A moment later, HARALD comes out of the park. He is dressedmuch as EVJE is, but has not his coat-collar turned up. )

Harald. There is a light in her window! Then she is alone in her room. What am I going to do now? Twice already I have come to look at thatlight; now I have seen it--and must go away! Good-bye, my darling! Bepatient, and wait! I know your thoughts are with me now; and I know youfeel that mine are with you! (As he turns away from the house he seesthe veiled figure of GERTRUD, who, as soon as she has come nearer, rushes to him, throws up her veil, and falls into his arms in a gladembrace. )

Gertrud. I was certain that, if you could not go into the house again, you would be out here! I knew you would not go away from me, dear!

Harald. No--neither now nor ever. 

Gertrud. And, while I was walking up and down here in the fog, I feltthat though there might be all this gloom tend cold around us outside, there was the brightness and warmth of certainty in our hearts. 

Harald. Yes, our love is the one certainty for me! Fog may obscure thegoal I aim at, the road I have to I read, the very ground I stand on;doubts may even for a while attack my faith; but my love for you shinesclear through it all!

Gertrud. Thank you, my darling! If that is so, there is nothing that wecannot overcome!

Harald. Of course, you know what took place to-day?

Gertrud. I can guess. 

Harald. Is it true that you are ill? Why did you never tell me?

Gertrud. No, the doctor is not telling the truth; I am not ill! Evenif I were, what matter? I should go on living as long as I could--andshould have done my duty before I gave in!

Harald. That is the way to look at it!

Gertrud. But I am not ill! I suffer, it is true--and am likely to--everytime you are persecuted, or my parents on my account. Because _I_ havedrawn them into all this that, they are so unfitted for, and that is whyit pains me so to see how unprepared it finds them--most of all when, out of tenderness for me, they try to conceal it. But I can't alterthings. We are fighting for a cause that you believe to be right, andso do I; surely that is better than never to suffer at all in any goodcause. Try me! Let me share the fight with you! I am not weak; it isonly that my heart is sore for those I love. 

Harald. You splendid, loyal creature!--and you are mine! (Embraces her. )

Gertrud. You should hear what grandfather says!

Harald. Yes, how is the dear old gentleman?

Gertrud. Pretty well, thanks, though he never gets out now. But he isfollowing your work, and he says that what you are aiming at is right, if you ask for God's guidance on your way. Harald--you will always bethe same as you are now--good and genuine--won't you, dear? Not likethe rest of them--nothing but bitterness and malice, always talking ofprinciples and consequences and all the rest of it, and always attackingothers? If one were obliged to be like that, it would be a curse to be apolitician. 

Harald. I will be what you make me! I think that behind every man'spublic life you can see his private life--whether he has a real home, and what it is like, or whether he only has a place he lives in--that isto say, no real home. 

Gertrud. With God's help I shall try to make a bright, snug and cosyhome for you! And this fog is delightful, because it only makes thethought of such a home all the cosier and snugger! It makes us seem soalone, too; no one is out driving or walking; and we can talk as loud aswe please, because the fog deadens the sound of our voices. Oh, Ifeel so happy again now! Do you know, I think it is rather nice to bepersecuted a little; it makes our meetings so much more precious!

Harald. But, you know dear, to meet you like this--and just now--

Gertrud (as they walk up and down together). Yes, of course! I hadaltogether forgotten how much you have to bear just now; I have beenchattering away--. Oh, I don't know how I could feel so happy, becauseI am really dreadfully distressed. But, you know, I sit the wholeplay beside grandfather, thinking, without even being able to talk. I generally read aloud to him; now and then he makes a remark, but hereally lives more in the next world than in this one now. (They hear acough in the distance, and give a start, because they recognise it. TheEDITOR and EVJE, walking along together, EVJE apparently talking veryearnestly, are seen, indistinctly through the fog, in the street runningparallel with the one HARALD and GERTRUD are in. JOHN is seen followingthem cautiously. They disappear into the park. )

Harald. I hear the enemy! I am sure I caught a glimpse of him over therethrough the fog, talking to another man. 

Gertrud. Is he always about the streets even in weather like this?

Harald. Well, we won't let him disturb us. (They begin walking up anddown again in front of the house. )

Gertrud. Do you know whom I met out here? Father!

Harald. Really? Then it is as I thought; the other man over there wasyour father!

Gertrud. Do you think it was? Poor father!

Harald. Yes, he is weak. 

Gertrud. But you must be good to him. He is so good himself. Think howmother loves him; she is absolutely wrapped up in him, because he is sogood!

Harald. He is a good man, and an able man. But, but, but--

Gertrud. They have lived a very tranquil life. We of the youngergeneration try to undertake heavier duties and greater responsibilitiesthan the older generation did. But we must not be angry with them. 

Harald. I am afraid it is only too easy to feel angry with them. 

Gertrud. No, do as grandfather does! If he thinks any one is going tobe amenable to it, he talks to them quietly; if not, he only behavesaffectionately to them. Do you understand, dear?--just affectionately. 

Harald. Well, to-day--ought I to have put up with their allowingthemselves to be treated in such an unseemly way, and their treating mein such an unseemly way?

Gertrud. Was it really as bad as that?

Harald. You would not believe what it was like, I assure you!

Gertrud (standing still). Poor father! Poor father! (Throws her armsround HARALD'S neck. ) Be good to them, Harald!--just because oftheir faults, dear! We are their children, you know, and it is God'scommandment, even if we were not their children. 

Harald. If only I could take you up in my arms and carry you off homewith me now! Your love takes possession of my heart and my will, andpurifies both of them. I am at a crisis in my life now--and now youshould be on my side!

Gertrud. Listen!--to begin with, I will go with you to your meetingto-night!

Harald. Yes, yes, --I will come and fetch you!

Gertrud. Down at the door here!

Harald. Yes!

Gertrud. And, in the next place, I am going to walls into the town withyou now. 

Harald. But then I shall have to see you home again. 

Gertrud. Do you object?

Harald. No, no! And you shall teach me a lot of things on the way!

Gertrud. Yes, you will be so wise before we get back! (They go out tothe right. )

(The EDITOR and EVJE come out of the park. JOHN follows them, unseen bythem, and slips past them to the right when they stop for a moment. Thefollowing conversation is carried on in hurried tones, and every timethe EDITOR raises his voice EVJE hushes him, and speaks himself in apersistently lowered voice. )

Evje. But what concern of yours--or of the public's--are my privateaffairs? I don't want to have anything to do with politics. 

The Editor, Well, then, you ought not to have had anything to do with_him_. 

Evje. When I first made his acquaintance he was not a politician. 

The Editor. Then you ought to have dropped him when he became one. 

Evje. Ought I to have dropped you too, when you became one?

The Editor. Let me repeat, for the last time, that we are not talkingabout me!

Evje. Hush, hush! What a fellow you are! You get into a rage if any onechaffs you. But you want to hit out at everybody all round!

The Editor. Do you suppose I am myself?

Evje. Who the devil are you, if you are not yourself?

The Editor. I am merely the servant of the public. 

Evje. The public executioner, that is to say?

The Editor. Well, yes, if you prefer it. But you shall pay for that wordsome day. 

Evje. There--you see! Always talking of paying for things!--of revenge!

The Editor. You shall pay for it, I tell you!

Evje. You are absolutely mad!--Poof! I am sweating as if it were the dogdays! (Changes his tone. ) Think of the time when we used to go to schooltogether--when you never could go to bed without first coming to thankme for the jolly times we were having together!

The Editor. None of that nonsense! I am accustomed to be hated, despised, spit upon, scourged; if any one speaks kindly to me, I do nottrust them!

Evje. You must trust me!

The Editor. No--and, besides, I observed very clearly to-day that youhad counted on having me in reserve if ever you got into a scrape. 

Evje. Well, who doesn't count on his friends? Doesn't every one takethem into his reckoning?

The Editor. I don't; I have no friends. 

Evje. Haven't you me? Do you think I would leave you in the lurch?

The Editor. That is hypocrisy! At times when I have needed it, the verylast thing you have thought of has been to give me any help!

Evje. Have I not helped you?

The Editor. That is hypocrisy, too-to pretend you think I am speakingof money. No; when I have been accused of being dishonourable--oflying--you, the "old schoolfellow, " the "old friend, " the "neighbour, "have never once had the courage to come forward on my behalf. 

Evje. I never meddle with politics. 

The Editor (with rising temper). More hypocrisy! Another of your damnedevasions!

Evje. Hush, hush, hush!

The Editor. You try to excuse yourself with a lie! You are doubly atraitor!--And then you expect me to have compassion on you!

Evje. As sure as I stand here, I have never thought of deserting you, however bad things were. 

The Editor. And you have the face to take credit to yourself for that?It is all calculation from beginning to end! You thought it would be thebest way of making me remember your loyalty, and reward you for it. 

Evje. This is abominable!

The Editor. Oh, you are cunning enough! You represent wealth of anotherkind, which at first was not entirely irreproachably come by--

Evje. There you go again!

The Editor. --and want to give it the cachet of good society; so you takecare to keep friends with a newspaper that may be able to give you ahelping hand in gaining what you want. Can you deny it?

Evje. There may be a slight tinge of calculation even in our highestpurposes. But the misfortune about you is that you can see nothing butthe calculation, though it may be only an infinitesimal part of thewhole thing. 

The Editor. Oho--I have had experience of you!

Evje. Then you must have had experience of your party's loyalty, too. 

The Editor. My party's loyalty!

Evje. Well, after all, it keeps you where you are to-day. 

The Editor. _It_ keeps me there?

Evje. And you have friends in that party-myself amongst others--whocertainly would rather stand outside altogether, but nevertheless giveyou their advice and support when you are in difficulties. You cannotdeny that. 

The Editor. I have friends in the party? Oh yes; and if we lose a fightthese fine counsellors are the first to run away! They are always eggingme on and egging me on; but only let public opinion once get tired ofme, and they will throw me overboard without more ado! By that sort oftreachery they manage to fill the sails of the party craft with a newbreeze--and leave me to shift the best way I can!--they, for whom Ihave fought with all my might and main! I despise my opponents--they areeither scoundrels and thieves, or they are blockheads and braggarts. But my supporters are lick-spittles, fools, cravens. I despise the wholepack of them, from first to last! If any one would give me the assurancethat if, as a pledge that I would never use a pen again, I were to chopoff my right hand I should thereby gain the prospect of a peaceful lifea thousand miles away from here, I believe I would do it!--I despise thewhole pack of them--oh, how I despise them!

Evje. But this is horrible! Do you find no comfort in religion? Or, atall events, you have your paper!

The Editor. My paper, yes--but what good do you suppose that is to me?And do you think I give the impression of being a religious man?

Evje. Then what do you work for?

The Editor. Perhaps you think I work for your sake?--or for the sake ofprosperity, or order, or whatever it is you cowards or self-seekers liketo imagine it is that you personify? No, the whole human race is notworth the powder and shot that they are holding at each other's heads. 

Evje. Then why do you come and almost threaten my life, if the wholething seems so worthless to you?

The Editor. Do you seriously suppose that I would give in, so as tospare you or some other shopkeeper?--so that you should be able tosay triumphantly, "You see he didn't dare! He didn't dare quarrel withCapital!"--or, "You see he has given in--he has turned tail!" No; whatI should like to do would be to lay a mine underground, and blow myselfand the whole lot of you sky high!

Evje. And I and all the happiness of my family life are to be sacrificedin order that you shall not have to give in on a side issue of noimportance!--Oh, I am chilled to the bone!

The Editor. Ha, ha! It is good to hear you speaking like yourself again, because it reminds me that it is time to put an end to this solemnnonsense! (Looks at his watch. ) A quarter past! You must be quick!

Evje. Are you really in earnest?

The Editor. I often play off jokes on you, it is true. But I don't knowhow you will like this one to-morrow morning. 

Evje. Then let me tell you that I solemnly refuse! I will not break offthe engagement! Put me in your paper, if you like; I am a free man. 

The Editor. Bah! nobody is that. Then you refuse? Good-bye! (Walks awayfrom EVJE. )

Evje (going after him). No, no--where are you going?

The Editor (stopping). Nowhere--or rather, I am going home. 

Evje. But you won't really do what you said?

The Editor. Ha! ha! ha! (Moves away. )

Evje (following him). No, listen! Listen to me for a minute. 

The Editor (turning back). Do you think I have time to stop at allthe stations your vanity or your fright will invent on the way? (Movesaway. )

Evje. You mad creature--listen to me! (The EDITOR stops. ) Tell meexactly what you mean to do?

The Editor. Fiddlesticks! (Moves on. )

Evje (following him). Do you mean to put in the paper that I have brokenoff this match?

The Editor (stopping). Better than that--I shall spread the news in thetown; then it will get about, and all the journalists will get a hold ofit. 

Evje. Give me a day or two to think it over!

The Editor. Oh, no--you are not going to catch me like that! It iselection time, and the other side must be made to feel that all decentpeople have deserted them. 

Evje. But it is a lie, you know!

The Editor. What is lying, and what is truth? But your resignation fromthe Stock Exchange Committee and your subsequent failure to be electedto any public position will be no lies, I can assure you! Public opinionis not to be trifled with, you know!

Evje. And this from you!

The Editor. Bah! Public opinion is a very faithless friend. 

Evje. But who, after all, constitute public opinion?

The Editor. Oh, no--you are not going to lead me into a trap again!Besides--it would be very difficult to say exactly who does constituteit. 

Evje. This is really--! Then you won't put that in the paper?

The Editor. The news of a broken engagement travels quickest byfoot-post--ha, ha, ha! (Coughs; then adds seriously:) But won't you, of your own accord, break off what are really absolutely inadmissiblerelations with a man who scandalises all your acquaintances?

Evje. Lay the blame on me, of course! I know his credentials are nolonger first class; but my daughter--ah, you would not be able tounderstand that. The circumstances are quite exceptional, and--. Lookhere, shall we go up and talk it over with my wife?

The Editor. Ha, ha!--you turned me out of the house this morning!

Evje. Oh, forget all about that!

The Editor (looking at his watch). Half past! Now, without any moreevasions--will you, or will you not?

Evje (with a struggle). No! I repeat, no! (The EDITOR moves away. ) Yes, yes!--It nearly kills me to do it!

The Editor. "The Capitalist, secure in his position, who needs pay noregard to, " etc. , etc. --that is the "common form, " isn't it, you man offirst-class credentials? Ha, ha! Good-bye. I am going home to send theboy to the printers; he has waited long enough. (Moves away. )

Evje (following him). You are the cruellest, hardest, most reckless--

The Editor (who has been laughing, suddenly becomes serious). Hush! Doyou see?

Evje (turning round). What? Where?

The Editor. Over there!

Evje. Those two?

The Editor. Yes--your daughter and Mr. Harald Rejn. 

Evje. But he swore this morning that he would never set foot in my houseagain!

The Editor. But he will stay _outside_ your house, as you see! Thesegentlemen of the Opposition, when they give any assurance, always do itwith a mental reservation! You can't trust the beggars! Come round thecorner. (They do so. )

Evje. An assignation in the street in the fog! To think my daughterwould let herself be induced to do such a thing!

The Editor. Evil communications corrupt good manners! You are a merebungler in delicate matters, Evje. You made a bad choice in thatquarter!

Evje. But he seemed to be--

The Editor. Yes, yes, I know! A real gentleman would have guessed whathe would develop into. He has a brother, you know! (HARALD and GERTRUDcome in slowly, arm-in-arm. )

Gertrud. While your brother has been ill you have received manygratifying proofs of the good feeling and goodwill that there is in thistown-haven't you?

Harald. Yes, I have. I have found no ill-will against him, nothing butkindness on all sides--with the exception of one person, of course. 

Gertrud. But even he has a heart! It has often seemed to me as if Iheard a cry of yearning and disappointment from it--and that just whenhe spoke most bitterly. 

Harald. Yes, it needs no very sharp sight to see that he, who makes somany unhappy, is himself the unhappiest of all. 

The Editor. What the deuce are they talking about?

Evje. We cannot hear from here. And the fog deadens their voices. 

The Editor. Go a bit nearer, then!

Evje. Not before they separate. You only understand _him_!

Harald (to GERTRUD). What are you holding there?

Gertrud (who has taken off her glove and then a ring from her finger). The ring they gave me when I was confirmed. Give me your hand! No, takeyour glove off!

Harald. Do you want me to try your ring on? I shall not be able to getit on. 

Gertrud. On the little finger of your left hand? Yes!

Harald (putting it on). So I can. Well?

Gertrud. You mustn't laugh at me. I have been beating up my courageto do this all this time. It was really why I wanted to walk a littlefarther with you first! I wanted to bring the conversation round to it, you see! I am so convinced that your happiness, and consequently mine, depends on your being able to be kind. You have got this meeting beforeyou to-night. It will be a decisive moment for you. If you, when you arefacing all this horrible persecution, can be a kind boy, you will winall along the line! (Pulls at his buttons in an embarrassed way. ) So Iwanted you to wear this ring to remind you. The diamonds in it sparkle;they are like my tears when you are hard and forget us two. I know itis stupid of me (wipes her eyes hastily), but now, when it comes to thepoint, I can't say what I--. But do wear it!

Harald (kissing her). I will wear it! (Gently. ) Its pure rays shall sheda light on my life. 

Gertrud. Thank you! (Throws her arms round him and kisses him. )

The Editor. What they are doing now is all right! Ha, ha, ha!

Evje. I won't stand it! (The EDITOR coughs loudly. ) What are you doing?(The EDITOR goes to the neighbouring house and rings the bell. The dooris opened and he goes in, laughing as he goes. )

Gertrud (who has started from HARALD'S arms at the sound of the cough). That is--!

Harald. It sounds like him! (Turns, and sees Evje. )

Gertrud. Father! (Turns to run away, but stops. ) No, it is cowardly torun away. (Comes back, and stands at HARALD'S side. EVJE comes forward. )

Evje. I should not have expected my daughter, a well-brought-up girl, tomake an assignation in the street with--with--

Gertrud. With her fiancé. 

Evje. --with a man who has made a mock of her father and mother, and ofhis own doing has banished himself from our house. 

Harald. From your house, certainly; but not from my future wife. 

Evje. A nice explanation! Do you suppose we will consent to have as ourson-in-law a man who spurns her parents?

Gertrud. Father!

Evje. Be quiet, my child! You ought to have felt that yourself. 

Gertrud. But, father, you surely do not expect him to submit to yourbeing abused and himself ill-treated in our house?

Evje. Are you going to teach your parents--?

Gertrud (putting her arm round his neck). I don't want to teach youanything; because you know yourself, dear, that Harald is worth farmore--and far more to us--than the man who went away just now! (At thismoment the printer's boy, who has come out of the EDITOR'S house, runspast them towards the town. )

Evje (seeing the boy, tries to get away). Go in now, Gertrud! I havesomething I wish to talk to Mr. Rejn about. 

Gertrud. You have nothing to talk to Harald about that I cannot hear. 

Evje. Yes, I have. 

Harald. But why may she not hear it? What you want is to break off ourengagement. 

Gertrud. Father--! (Moves away from him. ) Is that true?

Evje. Well-since it cannot be otherwise-it is true; that is to say, forthe moment. (Aside. ) Good Lord, they can make it up right enough whenthis is all over!

Gertrud (who is standing as if thunderstruck). I saw you with him!--Ah!that is how it is! (Looks at her father, bursts into tears and rushes tothe door of their house, pulls the bell and disappears into the house. )

Evje. What is it? What is the matter with her?

Harald. I think I know. She realises that her life's happiness has beenbought and sold. (Bows to EVJE. ) Good-bye! (Goes out to the right. )

Evje (after standing dumb for some moments). Bought and sold?Some people take everything so dreadfully solemnly. It is only amanoeuvre--to get out of this difficulty. Why is it that I cannot getfree of it! They both of them exaggerate matters so absurdly; first ofall this crazy fellow, and then Harald with his "Good-bye, " spoken as ifthe ground were giving way beneath his feet! I--I--feel as if every onehad deserted me. I will go in to my wife--my dear, good wife; she willunderstand me. She is sitting up there, full of anxiety about me. (Heturns towards his house; but, on reaching the garden gate, sees JOHNstanding there. )

John (touching his hat respectfully). Excuse me, Mr. Evje--

Evje. You, John! Go away! I told you never to set foot in my houseagain. 

John (very respectfully). But won't you allow me to stand outside yourhouse either, sir?

Evje. No!

John (standing in EVJE'S way, but still with a show of great respect). Not at the door here?

Evje. What are you standing in my way for, you scoundrel?

John. Shall I assist you to call for help, sir? (Calls out. ) Help!

Evje. Be quiet, you drunken fool! Don't make a disturbance! What do youwant? Be quick!

John. I want, with all respect, to ask you, sir, why you have sent meaway. 

Evje. Because you are a swine that gets drunk and then talks nonsense. You don't know what a dilemma you have put me in. --Now go away fromhere, quietly!

John. I know all about it! I was following you and the Editor all thetime, you know!

Evje. What?

John. These articles, that were to go in the paper--the printing was ata standstill, waiting for them. 

Evje. Hush, hush, John! So you overheard that, did you? You are tooclever; you ought never to have been a servant. --Now, be off with you!Here is a shilling or two for you. Good-bye. 

John. Thank you very much, sir. --This was how it was, sir. You see, I thought of the number of times I had run over to the printer's withmessages when that nice Editor gentleman was spending an evening withyou--and so I thought I might just as well run over with this one. 

Evje (starting back in alarm). What? What have you done?

John. Just to do you a good turn, sir, I ran along and told them theymight print those articles. 

Evje. What articles?

John. The ones about you, sir. "Print away, " I said--and they printedaway. By Jove, how they worked, and then off to the post with thepapers!

Evje. You had the impudence, you--! Ah, it's not true! I saw theprinter's boy myself, running to the office to countermand theinstructions. 

John. I caught him up outside here and told him that a message had beensent from Mr. Evje's house. And I gave him sixpence to go to the theatrewith; but he must have had to run for it, to be in time, because I amsure it was after seven. Excuse me, sir, but it _is_ after seven now, isn't it?

Evje. You scoundrel! You vindictive brute!

John. You can have a look at the paper, sir, if you like. 

Evje. Have _you_ got a copy?

John. Yes, sir, the first copy struck off is always sent to the Editor, so I volunteered to bring it to him. But you must be anxious to see it, sir! (Holds it out to EVJE. )

Evje (snatching it from him). Give it to me! Let me see--. (Movestowards his door, but stops. ) No, my wife mustn't--. Here, under thegas-lamp! This filthy fog! I can't--. (Feels in his pocket for hisglasses, and pasts them on. ) Ah, that's better! (Holds the paper underthe light. ) What a mischance! The blackguard--! Where is the article, then? Oh, here--I can't see properly, my heart is beating so!

John. Shall I run for the doctor, sir?

Evje. Will you go away, you--! (Holds the paper first up, and then down, in his attempts to see better. ) Ah, here it is! "The Stock ExchangeCommittee"--oh! (Lowers the paper. )

John (mimicking him). Oh!

Evje (trying to read). What a vile thing to do!

John. Oh, go on! go on!

Evje (as he reads). This beats everything I ever--Oh!

John. Oh! We _are_ in a bad way!

Evje (wiping his forehead). What a different thing it is to readlibellous attacks on others--and on one's self! (Goes on reading. ) Oh!Oh! What horrible, revolting rascality! What is it he says here? I mustread through it again! Oh, oh!

John. And often of a morning, when you have been reading the paper, Ihave heard you laughing till the bed shook under you!

Evje. Yes, I who have so often laughed at others! (Reads. ) No, this isbeyond belief! I can't read any more! This will ruin my position in thetown; I can hear every one laughing at me--he knows all my weaknesses, and has managed to make it all so hideously ludicrous! (Tries to go onreading. ) Why, here is some more! (Reads. ) It begins even worse than theother! (Lowers the paper, panting, then tries to go on reading. ) No, Ican't--I can't! I must wait! Everything seems going round and round--andmy heart is beating so violently that I know I shall have one of myattacks! What a devil it is that I have been making a friend of! What acreature to have broken bread with!--an unprincipled scoundrel! And thedisgrace of it!--the disgrace! What will they say at the Exchange? Whatwill--? I shall not dare to go out of my house, at least for some weeks!And then people will only say I have taken to my bed! Oh, oh! I feel asif it were the end of everything!

John (solicitously). Can I help you, sir?

Evje. Will you leave me alone--! No, I will have my revenge on himimmediately! I will go and ring his bell, and go into his house and callhim a scoundrel and spit in his face--! Did I bring my stick out withme? Where is my stick? I will send my man for it, and then I will thrashhim round and round his own room!

John (eagerly). I will fetch it for you, sir!

Evje (without hearing him). No, it would only make more scandal!--Howcan I take my revenge? I must do him some injury--some real injury thatwill seem to poison his food for him and rob him of his rest. Scoundrelslike that don't deserve sleep! It must be something, too, that willmake his family every bit as unhappy as mine will be when they haveread this--something that will make them hide their heads forshame--something that will make them terrified every time theirdoor-bell rings, out of shame for what their servants may hear! No, no, I am getting as evil-minded as he is, now!--What a horrible trade--forever sowing the seeds of sin and reaping a crop of curses! Now Iunderstand what Harald Rejn meant by saying that no one ought to givehis help to such things!--Heavens, hear my vow: never again will I givemy help to such things!--What am I to say to my wife--my dear, goodwife, who has no suspicion how disgraced I am! And Gertrud, our goodGertrud--ah, at all events I can give her some pleasure at once. Icannot conceal it from them; but I will tell them myself, so that theyshall not read it. 

John. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?

Evje (almost screaming at him). Once for all, can't you let me alone!

Mrs. Evje (leaning out of a window she has opened). The sound must havecome from the street, all the same. Are you there, my dear?

Evje (drawing back in alarm). There she is! Shall I answer?

Mrs. Evje. Are you there, my dear?

Evje. Yes, dear, here I am!

Mrs. Evje. So you are! I heard your voice, and looked all over thehouse. What is the matter, dear?

Evje. Oh, I am so unhappy!

Mrs. Evje. Good heavens, are you, dear? Come along in--or shall I comedown to you?

Evje. No, I will come in. Shut the window, or you will catch cold. 

Mrs. Evje. Do you know, Gertrud is sitting up here, crying?

Evje. Good gracious, is she? I will come up--I will come up!

John. I will help him up, ma'am! (Pretends to be doing so. )

Mrs. Evje. Is that you, John?

Evje (in a low voice). Will you be off!

John. Yes, it is me, ma'am. He is so unwell. 

Mrs. Evje. Is he! Heavens, it is one of his attacks! Help him, John!

Evje (as before). Don't you dare!

John (who has rung the bell loudly). I do hope you will moon be better, sir! (Calls up to the window. ) I can leave him now, ma'am! (To EVJE, ashe goes. ) This has been a bit of luck, for me; but you shall have somemore of it! (Disappears into the fog as EVJE goes into his house. Thetwo Passers-by, that were seen at the beginning of the scene, are nowindistinctly seen returning along the street at the back. )

First Passer-by. Well, the land of Fogs used to be thought by theancients to lie in the north, where all confused ideas come from--

Second Passer-by (who does not seem to be able to get a word in). But, listen to me for a moment-do you think it means--?

[Curtain]

ACT III

(SCENE. --A room in HALVDAN REJN's house. He is lying, supported onpillows, on a sofa on the left-hand side of the room. There is a tablein the background, and another near the sofa. A lamp is hanging from theceiling, and another standing on the table at the back. HAAKON REJN, hisdress proclaiming him to be a well-to-do yeoman farmer, is sitting on achair by the sofa. )

Halvdan. So she couldn't come?

Haakon. No; there are the youngsters, you know--she finds it difficultto get away. 

Halvdan (after a moment's silence). Remember to thank her for all herkindness to me. The happiest moments of my life have been those Sundaysand evenings that she and you and I spent together at your house. (Apause. )

Haakon. She wanted very much to know how you were feeling--whether you, who have suffered so much, are at peace now. 

Halvdan. At peace? A man who has to die with all his work unfinished, cannot easily root out all thoughts of that from his heart. 

Haakon. You should try to lay in God's hands all that you have strivenfor. 

Halvdan. That is what I struggle daily to do. (A pause. )

Haakon. A sister of my wife's, who was a widow and badly off, diedleaving three young children. But she was glad to die. "Their HeavenlyFather will help them better when I am out of the way, " she said. "Itook up too much room, " she said; "I know I have often stood in theirway. " (A pause. )

Halvdan. You tell that just as your wife would; she told me that storyonce. 

Haakon. I was to tell you from her that she believes you are to die inorder that what you have worked for may come to its fullest fruit. Shethinks that when you are gone, people will appreciate better what youraims were. 

Halvdan. There is some comfort in the thought that I may be dyingin order that what I have loved may live. I have already given uphappiness-even honour-for it; I gladly give my life for it now. (Apause. )

Haakon. Do you bear ill-will to any of those who have opposed you socruelly?

Halvdan. To no one. 

Haakon. Not even to those whose doing it is that you are lying here?

Halvdan. No, to no one. (A pause. )

Haakon. Could you bear to read something hateful about yourself to-day?

Halvdan. I don't know. 

Haakon. Then you have not done with it all yet. 

Halvdan. No, I know I have not. It is only sometimes that the busyworld outside seems to me like a ship sailing idly before the wind. Moreoften, I am back in the midst of it again--planning, hoping, praying! Iam young, you know, and have had to suffer so much--there was so much Iwanted to do. (Lifts a handkerchief to his forehead. HAAKON helps him towipe his face with it. A pause. )

Haakon. But it must be a comfort to you, too, that Harald is taking upwhat you are laying down. There is good stuff in him. 

Halvdan. Yes. 

Haakon. And he never says more than is necessary. The country folk willunderstand him all the better for it. 

Halvdan. I hope so. As soon as he comes into my room I feel as if theatmosphere were charged with electricity--I feel as if I _must_ havea part in what he is doing--and so I work, and tire myself out. Ah, itoften seems very hard to have to die, and leave undone a great work thatone has failed to accomplish!

Haakon. But you have made him what he is, you know--and many others. 

Halvdan. I have started the fight, that is all. It is hard to have todesert at the beginning of it!--But God is good, and will understand; Hewill not be surprised at what my thoughts are full of, when I go to Him. (A ring is heard at the bell. )

Haakon. I expect that is Harald. 

Halvdan. No, he never rings. Besides, I expect he is taking a walk, tothink over what he is going to say to-night. 

Haakon. Yes, I suppose it will be a big meeting. (The HOUSEKEEPER comesin. )

The Housekeeper. Mr. Evje is here, sir, asking for Mr. Harald. I toldhim we were expecting him every moment. Shall I ask him to come in?

Halvdan. Yes, show him in. (HAAKON gets up, as EVJE is shown in. )

Evje (to HALVDAN). Good evening! (Sees HAAKON. ) Ah, good evening! So youhave come? That is splendid. Is your wife with you?

Haakon. No, she couldn't leave the children. 

Evje. I see. (To HALVDAN. ) And how are you? About the same? Of course, yes. --Where is your brother?

Halvdan. He has his meeting to-night, you know. 

Evje. His momentous meeting--I know! I am going to it myself!

Halvdan (turns his face towards him). You?

Evje. My object in coming here was to take him home with me, so that wecould all go together to the meeting. We mean to go on to the platformwith him; I mean people to see that we are with him!

Halvdan (turning his face away). Really!

Evje (to HAAKON). You never answered my letter, Mr. Rejn. 

Haakon. No, I knew I was coming in to town. 

Evje. Well--will you sell?

Haakon. No. 

Evje. But, my dear Mr. Rejn, you have not sold a single potato to mydistillery for five years! And with a farm like yours! This year you hadthe best crop in the whole valley. 

Haakon. Oh, yes--it wasn't so bad. 

Evje. Not so bad! It was an extraordinary crop; and, everywhere elseround about, the crops were very middling. 

Haakon. Oh, yes--it might have been worse. 

Evje (laughing). I should think so! But then why won't you sell? (Turnsto HALVDAN. ) I hope you will excuse our talking business in a sick-room;a business man has to seize every opportunity, you know! (To HAAKON. )You have never got higher prices elsewhere than you have from me. 

Haakon. No, so I believe; but I have my own reasons. 

Evje. Your own reasons? What are they?

Haakon. I had a servant once--it is about five years ago now--a good, capable fellow. He used to take potatoes for me to the distillery everyday, and every evening came back drunk. So I spoke to him seriouslyabout it; and his answer was: "How do you suppose our brandy-merchantsare to grow rich, if chaps like me don't drink pretty hard?" You knowthe man; he went into your service afterwards. But from that day I havenever sold a potato to a distillery. 

Evje. But, my dear Mr. Rejn, we cannot be held responsible for the useto which such rascals put God's gifts!

Haakon. No--no--I suppose not; still, I am not going to have anythingmore to do with it. 

Evje (to HALVDAN). Do you think your brother will not be home before themeeting?

Halvdan. I should think he would; there is plenty of time yet. 

Evje. There is; but I should have liked to take him home with me first. The fact is (laughs) I have promised my wife and daughter not to go homewithout him. You know what women are! Shall I just go into his room andwait for him? There is something I want to talk to him about, you know. 

Halvdan. I don't think there is a fire in there. 

Evje. Oh, well, never mind--I will sit here. I have got a newspaper toread, and you two must go on with your talk just as if I were not here!I shall hear nothing, because I have something to read that interestsme. (He pulls a chair up to the table on the right with its back toHALVDAN. HAAKON brings the lamp from the table at the back. ) Ah, thankyou very much! Now, just talk away as if I were not here! (Takes thepaper from his pocket and sits down. )

Haakon (sitting down again beside his brother). I should have liked togo to the meeting, too. 

Halvdan. Of course you must go! You will hear Harald tell them how eachnation has its own appointed task in the world; that is why it _is_ anation. But, as long as it does not realise the fact, its politicswill be nothing but wrangling between the various class-interests--ahaphazard struggle for power. Our nation has never got beyond thatpoint! I have shouted myself to death over what is a mere market. 

Evje (to himself, striking the table with his fist). The wholecommercial community is insulted in this insult to me! I will stir themup at the meeting, and insist on our taking our revenge in common!

Haakon. I don't think things will be any better until we are betterChristians. Men think of nothing nowadays but themselves and theirposition. 

Evje (to himself). No, no-that wouldn't do. What would people say? Theywould only say I was badly hit by this. 

Halvdan (half to himself). A Christian nation, thinking of nothing butits own interests--that is to say, power! Equality and Liberty have nomeaning for it. Haakon, it surely will be bliss for a wounded soul tobe taken into the Everlasting Love, high above all this so-calledChristianity of the world! For my soul is sorely wounded!

Evje (to himself ). If only I could strike him dead!

Halvdan. But may they all be forgiven!--You asked just now whether Icould bear to read something hateful about myself to-day. I think Icould. 

Haakon. Then I can tell you the other message she gave me for you. I have been a little shy of telling you that. It was that you shouldremember that you must do more than forgive; you must pray for them. (Apause. )

Halvdan (with his hand over his eyes). I do. 

Evje (crumpling up the paper and throwing it on the floor). No, I won'tstand it! If the blackguard--. (Gets up in alarm, as he realises whathe has done, and is just going to pick up the paper; but at that momentturns round facing the others, and lets it lie. ) No, I won't touch itagain--never, as long as I live! (To the others. ) You must forgive me, but I was reading something that upset me very much. Your brother willtell you all about it in the morning, no doubt. Poof--it is very warm inhere! But, of course, that is natural in a sick-room. I don't think hecan be coming now. I think, too, that I will go on, so as not to be latefor the meeting; there is sure to be a difficulty in getting seats. Iwill get him to go home with me after the meeting, instead. That will bebetter, after all. 

Haakon. I was thinking of going to the meeting. Would you mind if I wentwith you?--for I do not know the way myself. 

Evje. You will come with me, Mr. Rejn? (To himself. ) That will besplendid--to make my entrance in the company of one of our yeomenfarmers! (Aloud. ) By all means let us go together! I feel flattered bythe opportunity, because I have always maintained that our yeomen arethe pick of the nation. Well, then--(to Halvdan) I hope you will soon befeeling better, Mr. Rejn. God bless you!

Halvdan (raising himself on his elbow, and looking at him with a smile). Something must have gone amiss with you to-day. 

Evje. Why do you say that?

Halvdan. Because as a rule you appear so composed so aloof from all thissquabbling. 

Evje (impetuously). But, do what I like, I am not allowed to keep alooffrom it! I have no greater wish in the world than to do so, I can assureyou. Oh, well, your excellent brother--my future son-in-law, as I am proud to call him--he will tell you all about it. Good-bye!--and--and--God bless you!

Haakon. Shall I tell your housekeeper to come to you?

Halvdan. Oh, no; but you might tell her to come in a little while. 

Haakon. Good-bye for the present, then!

Halvdan. Thank you for coming! Good-bye. (Sinks back on to the sofa. Theothers go out, HAAKON turning round once at the door. )

Halvdan. It is something in the paper that has disturbed his equanimity. What can it be? The same thing that made Harald so gloomy to-day, Iwonder? (Gets half up. ) It is lying there. --No! What interest have I inall their petty spite now? (Sinks back again. ) "Could you bear to readsomething hateful about yourself to-day?" Haakon asked. Then I supposethere is something about me in it to-day. (Puts his hand over hisheart. ) My heart doesn't seem to be beating any the faster for myknowing that. (Gets half up. ) There it lies! (Sinks back again. ) No, Iam only trying to tempt myself. All the same, I should like to know howmany stations I have passed on my journey to the great City ofPeace! Can their malice affect me still? Surely I have passed _that_station?--It would be worth trying, to see. There it lies! (Takes upa stick that is standing by the sofa. ) Surely I can get over there bymyself? (Gets up from the sofa with the help of the stick, and smiles. )I have not much strength left. (Takes a few steps. ) Scarcely enoughto get across the floor. (A few more steps. ) To think that I shouldhave--so much vanity--my weak point--. (His breath fails him, but hegets as far as the chair on which EVJE was sitting, and sits down. ) Oneought to have done with all that before the soul can get quite away fromthe dust that--. (Begins to rake the paper towards him with his stick. )And here am I, sitting here raking more of it towards me!--No, let thething lie! I won't soil my wings any more. --Poor Harald! He has totake up the burden now! What a horrible bungle it is, that we shouldbe brought into the world to give each other as much pain as possible!(Decidedly. ) Well, I am going to see what legacy of unhappiness Iam leaving him! I want to have a vivid impression of the misery I amescaping from. There is a certain comfort even in that. (Bends down andpicks up the paper, rests for a moment, and then unfolds the paper. ) Butthis is not to-day's paper; it is dated for to-morrow! How can Evje havegot hold of it? Yes, here is the date--Sunday. "Remember that thou keepholy the Sabbath Day!" On that day men's souls should turn to God--andthey offer Him _this_! It is after reading _this_ that these fine ladiesand gentlemen go to church! (Pushes the paper away from him. ) Supposethese "Christians" were to be brought to judgment one day withoutwarning?--Let us think of ourselves and not of others! (Lets his eyerest on the paper. ) Does that mean me? (Reads. ) "Not yet actually dead, but already canonised by a calculating brother--. " (Checks himself. )God forgive them! (Reads on. ) "His teachings will no doubt obtain hima paean of praise, but this will be--or, at least, so it is to behoped--from within the closely locked doors of the state's prisons andhouses of correction"--(checks himself a little)--"for that is whitherhe leads his followers. "--Good God, to think that they can say suchthings!--And yet, they said worse things of _Him_! Peace! (Reads. ) "Nodoubt he talks against Socialism; no doubt he coquets with Christianity;but it is by these very means that he has become so expert a seducer ofmen's opinions-which was his aim all along. " (Puts his hands before hisface. ) I should not have read it; forgive me! I am too weak still!--Ah!I feel--what is it? (Puts his hands suddenly to his heart, stillunconsciously grasping the newspaper in them. ) I must get into myroom--get to bed! (Gets up with the help of his stick. ) If only I canget there! Oh, I feel it coming on!--I must--. (Tries to hurry, but whenhe is halfway across the floor he stumbles, throws out his hands butfinds no support, staggers on for a few steps, and falls full length onthe threshold of his bedroom, so that half his length lies within thedoor and half without. A moment later, the HOUSEKEEPER comes in. )

The Housekeeper (not observing that he is not still on the sofa). Won'tyou go to bed now, sir? You can't stand so much in one day. (Goes to thesofa. ) Where is he? Surely he has not tried to walk in alone? (Hurriesacross to the bedroom door and almost falls over his body. She startsback with a scream. ) Where is--? (Catches up the lamp, hurries back, andbends over him; then calls out, screaming:) Help! Help! (Rings the bellwildly. A MAID appears. ) Mr. Halvdan is lying here! Heaven knows whetherhe is dead or alive! Run for the Doctor! Leave the door open behind you, and beg the first man you meet in the street to come up here at once andhelp me. Tell them it is a matter of life and death!

Maid. Yes!

The Housekeeper. Hurry!

Maid (going out). Yes, yes!

The Housekeeper (coming back into the room). Is he alive or dead? Ihaven't the courage to find out. And both his brothers away! (Cries. )God grant some one comes soon!--Poor man, alone in his death as he wasin his life! But what was he doing _there_? Why did he get up from thesofa? (Sees the paper. ) Surely that can't be--? (Puts the lamp on thefloor and unfolds the paper. ) Yes, it is the paper, right enough! Whocan have given it him? I can't look at it now; but if it is like thenumber I read the other day (lets the paper fall, and gets up with thelamp) then I understand everything--and may God requite those that dosuch things! (The EDITOR rushes in. )

The Editor. Is it here?

The Housekeeper (holds the lamp to him, then starts back). What do _you_want here?

The Editor. Where am I? A girl came running down the street and told meI must come up here and help some one that was dying. What do you wantme to do?--or is it not here?

The Housekeeper. And it was _you_ she met? It is the hand of God!

The Editor. What are you babbling about? If it is not here, say so atonce. 

The Housekeeper. Yes, it is here. There he lies!

The Editor. Then oughtn't we to get him into bed?

The Housekeeper. Yes. But do you know who it is you are helping?

The Editor (to himself). She is not very polite. (Aloud. ) No; but whatdoes that matter?

The Housekeeper. This much--that it is you that have killed him. 

The Editor. I--? She is mad. 

The Housekeeper. The man lying there is Halvdan Rejn. And he had beenreading about himself in your paper. --Come, now, and carry him in. (Shegoes into the bedroom with the lamp. Her voice is heard from inside theroom. ) Now, take hold of him and lift him. You can think afterwards. 

The Editor (stoops to lift the body, but gets up again). I don't thinkhe is dead yet. 

The Housekeeper. All the more reason to make haste. 

The Editor (stoops down again, but gets up once more. ) Let me take hishead. 

The Housekeeper. Why?

The Editor. So that--if he should open his eyes

The Housekeeper. --he won't see you. (Comes out of the bedroom). Go inthere, then, and take his head. (He goes in. ) What was that?

The Editor (from inside the room). I slipped. There is something wethere. 

The Housekeeper. Yes, he has had a hemorrhage. Carefully, now. (Theycarry him in. The stage remains empty for a moment. Then the EDITORcomes back, wiping his forehead. He walks backwards and forwards, treading on the paper as he goes, but without noticing it. )

The Editor. What a horrible thing to happen!--Newspapers are not meantfor dying people. --It is not my fault. --Is this blood on my hand? Itis! (Wipes it with his handkerchief. ) And now it is on my handkerchief!(Throws it away. ) No, it has my name on it. (Picks it up again. ) No onecan say it is my fault. (Sits down, then gets up, wiping his foreheadwith his handkerchief without noticing what he is doing. ) Ah, I hope Ihaven't put blood on my forehead? I seem to feel it there! (Feelswith his hand to see if his brow is wet. ) No. (Sits down, then gets upagain. ) Let me get away from here. (Stops. ) To think that I should bethe one to come up! that it should just happen to-night that I did notreceive my paper, and so went out! It almost seems more than accident. Indeed, I often had a foreboding that it would happen. (Stands oppositethe bedroom door. ) But is he dead? I think I will go and fetch theDoctor. Oh no, of course the maid has gone for him. He hasn't longto live, anyway; I could see that. (Walks forward, pointing withhis finger. ) "There goes the man that killed Halvdan Rejn! And hispunishment was that he had to lift up his bloodstained body himself. "That is what they will say; and they will look at me as if--. (Sitsdown. ) No, let me get away! (Takes a few steps, then stops suddenly. )That article in to-morrow's paper! It is worse than the others! (Pullsout his watch. ) Too late--the post has gone! I would have given--. (Checks himself. ) I have nothing worth giving. In the morning It willbe known all over the town just as everyone is reading my fresh article. There will be a riot; I shall be hunted like a wild beast. What shall Ido? I might sneak out of the town? Then they will gloat over me! I won'tallow them that pleasure! No, I cannot stay my hand utter a failure;only after a victory. That is the cursed part of it-never, never to beable to end it. Oh, for some one that could end it--end it, end it! Oh, for one day of real peace! Shall _I_ ever get that? (Sits down. ) No, no, I must get away! (Gets up. ) To-morrow must take care of itself. (Starts. ) There is the paper he was reading! (Steps over it. ) I willtake it away--and burn it. (Takes it up. ) I cannot burn it here; someone might come. (Is just going to put it into his pocket, as it is, buttakes it out again to fold it better. ) A Sunday's paper, apparently!Then it is _not_ to-day's? An old number, I suppose. Then the wholething is a mistake! (Sighs with relief. ) Let me look again! (Opens thepaper, tremblingly. ) I don't deserve it, but--. (Reads. ) Sunday, the--. _To-morrow's_ paper? _Here_? How in all the world did it get here?(Appears horrified. ) Here are the articles about Evje! How on earth didthey get in? Didn't I send a message? Didn't I write? This on the top ofeverything else! Are even my printers conspiring against me? Well, evenif it ruins me, I shall go on! They shall find out what I can do. How onearth can I be expected to help it if a weak-minded fellow dies, or ifmy printers are drunk or my manager has delirium tremens! I shall pursuemy end through all chances and in spite of all their tricks, and I shallcrush them, crush them--I shall--. (Gives way to a paroxysm of rage. At this moment the MAID comes in with the DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT. The MAIDrushes into the bedroom. The EDITOR starts up. ) Who is that? What do youwant?

The Doctor's Assistant (coldly). What do _you_ want here?

The Editor. I? Oh, I was called up to help the sick man into his bed. 

The Doctor's Assistant (as before). Ah!--so it was _you_! (A pause. )

The Editor. Have you ever seen me before?

The Doctor's Assistant. Yes. I have heard you grind your teeth beforethis. (Goes into the bedroom. )

The Editor (after standing for a moment looking after him). They willall look at me to-morrow like that-with those cold eyes. "Every man'shand against him, and his hand against every man;" there can only be oneend to that. To-night, the meeting--and Harald Rejn will take themby storm. To-morrow, his brother's death--and my new article in thepaper--and, in addition to that, those about Evje, who at present isonly angry. And the election in two days! Oh, yes, he will be electednow. So I may as well give it all up at once. I would change places withany wolf that has a lair to hide in. Those cold eyes of his! (Shudders. )That is how every one will look at me to-morrow! They have piercedthrough my armour! (The DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT comes back, and the EDITORmakes an effort to resume his former confident manner. )

The Doctor's Assistant. I don't know whether you will be glad to hearthat it is all over. 

The Editor (under his breath). You brute!

The Doctor's Assistant. His old housekeeper does not feel equal tocoming here to tell you what his last words were. They were: "Forgivehim!" (Goes out. )

The Editor (sitting down, then getting up again). No, I mustn't be foundhere. (Walks about the room on tiptoe, as if he were afraid of wakingsome one. When he comes opposite to the bedroom door, he turns towardsit, stretches out his arms and says:) Give me your forgiveness too!

ACT IV

(SCENE. --A large and handsomely furnished sitting-room at the EVJE'S. The room is brightly lit and the fire burning. The entrance door is onthe right, and beyond it a door leading to the dining-room. INGEBORGis busy taking the covers off the chairs, folding them carefully as shedoes so. After a little, the bell rings. She goes to open the door, andreturns, showing in the DOCTOR. )

The Doctor. Oho! Is it to be in here to-night?

Ingeborg (who has resumed her work of making the room ready). Yes, sir. 

The Doctor. Where are they all?

Ingeborg. At the meeting, sir. 

The Doctor. All of them?

Ingeborg. Yes, all of them. Miss Gertrud went first--

The Doctor. Yes, I saw her well enough!

Ingeborg. And then the master, and a farmer gentleman with him, came into fetch the mistress. 

The Doctor (to himself). Something has happened here, then. (Aloud. )Tell me, Ingeborg--has _he_ been here again? You know who I mean. (Coughs in imitation of the EDITOR'S cough. )

Ingeborg. Oh, the Editor; no, sir. 

The Doctor (to himself). I wonder what has happened. (Aloud. ) Well, evidently there is to be a festivity here to-night; and, as I see thechairs are getting their covers taken off, I may as well take mine offtoo. (Takes off his coat and gives it to INGEBORG, who carries it out. )I don't blame Evje for wanting to celebrate Harald's success after ameeting like that! He is not exactly eloquent in the ordinary senseof the word--doesn't bother about his antitheses and climaxes andparadoxes, and all that sort of nonsense; but he is a _man_! He goesbail for what he says, and he says what he likes--ha, ha! And that dearGertrud, too! Follows him into the hall, and, as there isn't a singleseat left there, goes up on to the platform among the committee, andsits there looking at him with those trustful blue eyes of hers, as ifthere was no one else in the room! And _we_ were all looking at _her_!She helped him more than ten good speakers would have done, I am sure. Her faith in him bred it in others, whether they liked it or no. Sheis one who would die for her faith! Yes, yes! The man that gets her--. (INGEBORG comes back. ) Well! (Rubs his hands together. ) Look here, Ingeborg. (Very politely. ) Do you know what is meant by the Rights ofMan?

Ingeborg (going on with her work). No, sir. Something we have earned, Isuppose. 

The Doctor. Yes, you earn them every day. 

Ingeborg. Our meals, perhaps?

The Doctor (laughing). No, it isn't something to eat, unfortunately. (Politely. ) Do you ever read papers, Ingeborg?

Ingeborg. Papers? Oh, you mean the price-lists they leave at the kitchendoor. Yes, sir; every day, before we go to market, I--

The Doctor. No, I don't mean papers of that sort. I mean--

Ingeborg. Oh, you mean the newspaper I take in to master's room everymorning. No, Sir, I don't read that. I am told there are such horrors init. 

The Doctor. Quite so. Don't you care to read about horrors, then?

Ingeborg. Oh, we poor folk see enough of them in our everyday lives, without reading about them!--But perhaps the gentry enjoy it. 

The Doctor. You are a very wise woman. Let me tell you, though, thatthere is a fight going on, about--oh, well, never mind what it is about. And the Editor and Mr. Rejn, who both come to this house, are the twochief fighters. Don't you want to know what they are fighting about?

Ingeborg (going on unconcernedly with her work). Oh, so they arefighting, are they? No, I don't care the least bit, sir!

The Doctor (to himself). Ha, ha--the difference between Ingeborg andme is that I am interested in the fight merely as a student of humannature, and she is not interested in it at all. I wonder which isfarthest from any genuine belief in politics?--from our "duty as acitizen, " as they call it? (To INGEBORG. ) Ingeborg, do you know whatyour "duty as a citizen" means?

Ingeborg. My "duty as a citizen"? That mean; paying fines, doesn't it, sir?

The Doctor. Yes; and a very heavy fine, into the bargain!

Ingeborg. The master was fined because the pavement was not swept. Johnwas ill. 

The Doctor. Quite right, that was one of his duties as a citizen. --Tellme, Ingeborg, are they expecting a lot of people here to-night?

Ingeborg. No, sir, I have only laid table for quite a few. 

The Doctor. And what are they going to have?

Ingeborg. Oh, one or two dishes and one or two sorts of wine--. 

The Doctor. Aha! (A ring is heard at the bell. INGEBORG goes to thedoor. ) There they are! Now we shall have a fine time!

Ingeborg (coming back with a letter). It is a note for you, sir. 

The Doctor. Oh, bother I

Ingeborg. The man who brought it was not sure whether you would be atthe meeting or here. 

The Doctor. How could he know--? (Putting on his glasses. ) Oh, from myassistant--that is quite another thing. Of course he wants my help or myadvice. Well, he shan't have it! I have run about quite enough to-day. Tell the messenger that I haven't time! I have my Duties as a Citizento attend to! (Calls after her. ) And my Manhood's Rights too! (Opens theenvelope. ) No, I won't read it; if I do, the matter will worry me allthe evening. I know what I am. (Puts the note in his pocket. ) I mean toenjoy this evening! (Suddenly. ) I wonder how our friend the Editor isenjoying this evening! Was he at the meeting, I wonder? A remarkablepersonality--but malignity itself! Lion-hearted, though! He would fighttill the last drop of his blood! But what is it, really, that he isfighting for? That question has always interested me, for I can't makeit out. (To INGEBORG, who has comeback. ) Well?

Ingeborg. The messenger has gone. --Yes, sir, I told him everything youtold me to. 

The Doctor. Of course. You would! Why the deuce does any one pay anyattention to what I say! (The bell rings. ) Here they are at last! Nowwe shall have a delightful evening! (EVJE and MRS. EVJE come in. ) I amfirst, you see!

Evje and Mrs. Evje. Were you at the meeting, too?

The Doctor. Where else should I be?

Evje. Did you see me?

Mrs. Evje. There were so many people there, dear. 

Evje. But I was standing on a seat. 

Mrs. Evje. Yes, he was standing on a seat!

The Doctor. There were plenty of people doing that. 

Evje. I wanted to be seen!--There _have_ been goings on here to-day, myfriend!

Mrs. Evje. You will never guess what has happened!

The Doctor. Anyway I can see that something has happened. 

Evje and Mrs. Evje. Oh--!

The Doctor. What is it, then?

Evje. Those articles will be in to-morrow's paper. 

The Doctor. In the paper?--Yes, I didn't find him. 

Evje. But I found him!

The Doctor (impatiently). Well?

Evje. I will tell you all about it another time. But I have read them--

Mrs. Evje. And he has told me all about them!

The Doctor. Are they very bad?

Evje. Oh--oh!

Mrs. Evje. Oh--oh--oh!

The Doctor (with a look of pleased curiosity. ) As bad as all that?

Evje and Mrs. Evje. Oh--oh--oh--oh!

The Doctor. And _that_ was why you went to the meeting!

Evje. Of course--tit for tat! It was my wife's idea. 

Mrs. Evje. It was the obvious thing to do, dear. 

Evje. Our whole family at the meeting!--So that all the town should knowthat it was nothing but the meanest political persecution because I hadjoined my son-in-law's party. 

Mrs. Evje. We are party people now, you know!

Evje. Do you know, there is something exciting about being mixed up withsuch things--something invigorating, something--

The Doctor (stepping back). Are _you_ bitten with it, too?

Evje. Yes, if I can't be left in peace, I shall become a party man. 

The Doctor (enthusiastically). Did you see Gertrud?

Evje and Mrs. Evje (with emotion). Our Gertrud! Yes, indeed we did!

The Doctor. Did you see her coming in with him!

Evje and Mrs. Evje (as before). Yes, we saw her coming in with him!

The Doctor. I suppose you did not know she was going?

Evje and Mrs. Evje. Oh, yes!

Mrs. Evje. She had said she would go with us--

Evje. But when we went to fetch her, the bird had flown!

The Doctor. How pretty she looked, too! All the men were looking at her. And how she looked at him!

Mrs. Evje. It made me want to cry. I had quite a job to prevent myself. 

Evje. You need not have minded, dear! God has given us great happiness. Her faith in him and her love shone to from her eyes that it went to myheart. I felt quite upset! (Wipes his eyes. )

The Doctor. And what about _him_--eh? I don't fancy any one will thinkabout stopping his career. We have been a pack of fools. 

Evje. That we have!

The Doctor. He is not exactly eloquent, but--

Evje. That is precisely what I was saying to my wife! He is not exactlyeloquent, but he is--

The Doctor. --a man!

Evje. A man! My very words, weren't they, my dear?

Mrs. Evje. Yes. --And I say he is so strong a man that he can afford tobe tender-hearted. For he certainly has been that. 

Evje. Yes, he has been that!

The Doctor (laughing). In spite of his strength!

Evje. Oh, you may make the most of your--. Aha! (Loud ringing at thebell is heard. ) Here they are!

Mrs. Evje. Let us go and meet them!

The Doctor. No; look here--let us wait for them at the other side of theroom, so that they may make a triumphal progress up to us!

Evje and Mrs. Evje, Yes! (They go to the opposite end of the room, whileHARALD comes in rather quickly, with GERTRUD on his arm. As they crossthe room, the others cry out: "Bravo! Bravo!" and clap their hands. )

Gertrud (still holding to HARALD's arm). And he is my man! My man!(Throws her arms round his neck, crying with happiness, and kisses him;then does the same to her mother, and then to her father, to whom shewhispers: Thank you!)

The Doctor. Oh--me too!

Gertrud (after a moment's hesitation). Yes--you too!

(The DOCTOR helps her to take off her cloak, and talks to her, whispering and laughing. )

Harald (shaking EVJE's hand). Good evening!

Evje. Forgive me!

Harald. With all my heart!

Mrs. Evje. And now everything is all right!

Harald. For good!

Evje and Mrs. Evje. For good!

Harald. And, thank you for coming to the meeting. 

Evje. It was no more than our duty! Look here--did you see me?

Harald. The whole time! But, tell me, was it a delusion, or was it mybrother Haakon that was standing on the floor beside you, rather in theshadow?

Evje and Mrs. Evje. It _was_ he!

Evje. I fetched him from your brother Halvdan's. 

Harald. I am so glad! It must have pleased Haakon. Gertrud and I atfirst thought of going in to see Halvdan before we came on here; but wesaw all his lights were out. He must be asleep. 

Evje. I can give you news of him. He is all right. 

Harald. And Haakon?

Evje. Very well, too. A fine fellow! I wanted him to come home with usnow; but he said he was tired after his journey. 

Mrs. Evje (to INGEBORG, who has come in from the dining room). Is itready?

Ingeborg. Yes, ma'am. 

Mrs. Evje. Then come along. (INGEBORG opens the dining-room door. )

The Doctor and Evje. Yes, come along!

The Doctor. But we must go ceremoniously! Let us make a little festivityof it to-night! You must head the procession, Evje--and then the twoyoung people Gertrud (taking HARALD's arm). Yes!

The Doctor. And Mrs. Evje and I will bring up the rear! (Offers her hisarm. )

Evje. Forward!(The bell rings. He stops. ) Who can it be--as late asthis?

The Doctor. Probably some friends on their way back from the meeting. 

Mrs. Evje. We must wait a moment!(To INGEBORG, who is going to open thedoor. )Put a leaf in the table, and lay places for as many as come. 

Ingeborg. Yes, ma'am. (The bell rings again, as she goes to open thedoor. )

The Doctor. They are impatient! So much the better--it shows they are ina good humour after the meeting! (A knock is heard at the door. )

All. Come in!(The EDITOR comes in, with no overcoat on, but wearing hishat, which he forgets to take of till he is well into the room. He goesstraight up to EVJE, who has crossed over to the left-hand side of theroom. )

All (when they see him in the doorway). You! (GERTRUD clings closer toHARALD. )

The Editor. I wanted once more, as in the old days, not to go to bedwithout--this time it is not a question of thanking you for the happytime we have had together but without begging your pardon!(He speaksquietly, but with suppressed emotion. )There has been some unfortunatemisunderstanding. Those articles have been printed, in spite of myexpress instructions to the contrary--I do not know how. 

Evje. I have read them. 

The Editor. You have read them?

Evje. Yes, the copy of the paper that was meant for you came into myhands. 

The Editor. So that was it!--Forgive me, old friend! Won't you give meyour hand?

Mrs. Evje (coming forward). That he shall never do!

The Editor (glancing over his shoulder at her). Let no one come betweenus at a moment like this! You don't know--. A hundred times in my lifeI would have done what I am doing now, had I not been afraid that peoplewould call it affectation on my part and repulse me. Don't _you_ dothat!--least of all now! Give me your hand, Evje! I beg you, in thesight and hearing of you all--. (EVJE seems to vacillate. )

Mrs. Evje. No, you shan't!--not while he has anything to do with anewspaper. Otherwise it will all begin over again to-morrow. He is nothis own master, you know. 

The Editor. I have done with it all. 

Mrs. Evje. Oh, you have said that so often! Nobody believes it. No; whena man can push political hatred so far as to write about an old friend, in whose house he has been a daily guest, as if he were a criminal--andall because he doesn't like his son-in-law, or his servant--one doesn'tshake hands with him the very day his attacks appear in the paper. 

The Editor (who, all the tinge, has kept his back turned to MRS. EVJE, and has not looked at her). Evje, you are a good-hearted fellow, I know. Don't listen to what others say, now. This is a very bitter hour for me. You would be doing a good deed! Give me your hand--or a word! I amin such a state now that I must have visible signs of _some one's_forgiveness, or I shall--!

Mrs. Evje (emphatically). Yes, a little repentance will do you good!But it will do you no good if you obtain forgiveness easily! You wantto learn, just for once, what it is to be wounded at heart. You are onlyaccustomed to deal with people whom you can flog one day and have atyour feet--either from fear or from vanity--the next. And have we--Godforgive us!--ever thought seriously the worse of you for it? No; becausewe never understood what it was till we were hit by it ourselves. Butthat is all the more reason why we should do our duty now! Hatred shallbe met with hatred!

The Doctor (at the back of the room, to GERTRUD and HARALD). She is herfather's daughter, after all, when it comes to the point!

The Editor (turns upon MRS. EVJE, with his fist clenched, but restrainshimself from answering her). Then you won't shake hands, Evje? Not aword of forgiveness?

Evje. I think my wife is right. 

The Editor (controlling himself with difficulty). You are a weak man, Iknow--

Evje. What do you mean?

The Editor. --but do not be weak this time! If you knew everything, you would know you _must_ not refuse me what I ask. There are othersconcerned--and for that reason--

The Doctor. Let us go!

Mrs. Evje. No, stay! He shall not have his way again. 

The Editor. Well, of all--! It is certainly true that those who arehardest on sinners are those who have never been tempted themselves--andthe most merciless creature in the world is an injured woman. 

Mrs. Evje. Now he is coming out in his true colours!

The Doctor (not without glee). Yes, that he is!

The Editor (controlling himself once more). Evje--you, who know me, knowwhat it must cost me to do this--and you can form some idea of the needI am in. I have never--

Evje. I believe you; but I never can feel sure what your next move willbe. You have so many. 

The Editor. My next move is to have done with it all, as sure as--

Mrs. Evje. Don't believe him! A man who can ask for your sympathyone moment and abuse you the next is not fit to promise anything--andcertainly not fit to be forgiven, either. 

The Editor (with an outburst of passion). Then may everything evilovertake me if I ever ask you or any one else for sympathy again! Youhave succeeded in teaching me that I can do without it! I can riseabove your cowardly cruelty. (To EVJE. ) You are a miserable, weakcreature--and have always been, for all your apparent good-naturedshrewdness! (To MRS. EVJE. ) And as for you, who have often laughed soheartily at my so-called malice, and now all at once have become soseverely virtuous--why, you are both like part-proprietors of my paper!You have taken all the profit you could from me, as long as it servedyour purpose--I have seen that for a long time! And all my pretendedfriends are like you--secret holders of shares in me, so as to securetheir own safety and the persecution of others!--every bit as guilty asI am, only more prudent, more timid, more cowardly--!

Evje. Once more--leave this house, which you have outraged!

Mrs. Evje. And how dare you set foot in here again?

The Editor. No, I am not going until all the anger that is in my hearthas turned into fear in yours! Because now I will _not_ have done withit all! No--it is just through _his_ death that respect for me willrevive--it will be like a rampart of bayonets round me! "There goesone who can kill a man with a word, if he likes!" _That_ will make themtreat me respectfully!

Harald and the Doctor. What does he mean?

The Editor (as he hears HARALD'S voice). And you--you mountebank, whocan stand up in public and seek applause before your brother's corpseis cold--don't come talking rant to me! You are more contemptible than Iam! I couldn't have done that; I couldn't stand there, as you are doingnow, impatient to get to your champagne and pretty speeches!--Oh, how Idespise all such lying and heartlessness! (They all look at him and ateach other with a questioning expression. )

Harald. Is my brother dead?

Mrs. Evje. Is his brother dead?

Gertrud. Good God, is Halvdan dead?

Evje. Is he dead? Impossible!

The Doctor. Is Rejn dead--and I--?

Evje. I saw him only a couple of hours ago, looking quite well. 

The Editor (in a broken voice). Didn't you know?

All (except the DOCTOR). No!

The Doctor. Ah, that letter, that letter! (Looks in his pocket for itand his glasses. )

The Editor. I am the wretchedest man alive! (Sinks into a chair. )

The Doctor. I had a letter from my assistant, but I have not read it!

Mrs. Evje. Read it, read it!

The Doctor (reading). "I am writing in great haste. As I expect you willbe going to your old friends' after the meeting, and will meet HaraldRejn there, the task will probably fall to you of telling him--(theEDITOR gets up to go, but stands still)--that Halvdan Rejn died abouteight o'clock of a fresh attack of hemorrhage! (HARALD leaves GERTRUD'Sside and comes forward, with a cry. The EDITOR steadies himself byholding on to the table. ) No one was with him; he was found lying acrossthe threshold of his bedroom. A copy of the newspaper was lying on thefloor behind him. " (HARALD, with a groan, advance threateningly towardsthe EDITOR. )

Gertrud. Harald, my ring!--my ring! (HARALD Stops, collects himself, buries his face in his hands and bursts into uncontrollable tears. GERTRUD puts her arms round him and holds him folded in them. )

The Doctor (laying a hand on HARALD's arm). "The housekeeper told me hehad only spoken two words, and they were 'Forgive him!'" (HARALD burstsinto tears. )

The Doctor (after waiting for a little). "Apparently chance--or perhapssomething else--decreed that the maid who ran for help, should meet thevery man, who hats caused the tragedy, and that it should be _he_ whohelped the housekeeper to lay him on his deathbed. " (All look at theEDITOR. )

Evje. That was why he came! (A pause. )

Gertrud. Harald! (HARALD, who has turned away from her to struggle withhis emotion, does not turn round. ) If _he_ could forgive--

The Editor (with a gesture of refusal). No!

Gertrud (quietly, to the EDITOR). If you want to deserve it, make an endof all this!

The Editor. It is all at an end! (To MRS. EVJE. ) You were right. I knewit myself, too. My armour is pierces pierced through. A child mightconquer me now--and this child has done so; for she has begged for mercyfor me, and no one has ever done that before. (Puts his hand over hiseyes, turns away, and goes out. As he is going out the bell rings. Amoment later, INGEBORG Shows in HAAKON REJN. )

Gertrud (who has put her arms round HARALD, whispers). Who is it?

Harald. My brother. (Goes to meet HAAKON and throws himself into hisarms. ) You had a talk with him this afternoon, then?

Haakon. Yes. 

Mrs. Evje. Let us all go to him. 

Evje and Gertrud. Yes. 

Mrs. Evje (to INGEBORG). Bring in our cloaks and hats again, andafterwards clear the table. (INGEBORG does so. )

Harald (unable to control his emotion). Haakon, this is my future wife. (Goes away from them. )

Haakon. Well, my dear, your engagement has begun seriously; take all thefuture seriously, too. 

The Doctor. You need not say that to _her_. What she needs is to takelife more lightly. 

Haakon. Oh, yes--if she lays everything in God's hands she can alwaystake life lightly. 

Mrs. Evje. It is our own fault, I expect, when we take it too lightly. 

Evje. But sometimes we learn a lesson by that. 

Haakon. Oh, yes. Well, we must stand by one another, we who take life inthe same way. 

Mrs. Evje. Shall we go, children?

Harald (to HAAKON). Will you bring Gertrud, Haakon? I would rather goalone. (They go out. The curtain falls. )

THE BANKRUPT

A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

 HENNING TJAELDE, merchant and brewer. MRS. TJAELDE, his wife. VALBORG and SIGNE, their daughters. LIEUTENANT HAMAR, engaged to Signe. SANNAES, Tjaelde's confidential clerk. JAKOSSEN, manager of Tjaelde's brewery. BERENT, a lawyer. PRAM, a custom-house official. An Agent. The VICAR. LIND, a guest. FINNE, a guest. RING, a guest. HOLM, a guest. KNUTZON, a guest. KNUDSEN, a guest. FALBE, a guest. 

ACT I

(SCENE. --A sitting-room in the TJAELDES' house, opening on a verandahthat is decorated with flowers. It is a hot summer's day. There is aview of the sea beyond the verandah, and boats are visible among theislands that fringe the coast. A good-sized yacht, with sails spread, islying close up under the verandah on the right. The room is luxuriouslyfurnished and full of flowers. There are two French windows in theleft-hand wall; two doors in the right-hand. A table in the middle ofthe room; arm-chairs and rocking-chairs scattered about. A sofa in theforeground on the right. LIEUTENANT HAMAR is lying on the sofa, andSIGNE sitting in a rocking-chair. )

Hamar. What shall we do with ourselves to-day?

Signe (rocking herself). Hm! (A pause. )

Hamar. That was a delicious sail we had last night. (Yawns. ) But I amsleepy to-day. Shall we go for a ride?

Signe. Hm! (A pause. )

Hamar. I am too hot on this sofa. I think I will move. (Gets up. SIGNEbegins to hum an air as she rocks herself. ) Play me something, Signe!

Signe (singing her words to the air she has been humming). The piano isout of tune. 

Hamar. Read to me, then!

Signe (as before, looking out of the window). They are swimming thehorses. They are swimming the horses. They are swimming the horses. 

Hamar. I think I will go and have a swim too. Or perhaps I will waittill nearer lunch-time. 

Signe (as before). So as to have a better appetite--appetite--appetite. 

(MRS. TJAELDE comes in from the right, walking slowly. )

Hamar. You look very thoughtful!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, I don't know what to order. 

Signe (as before). For dinner, I suppose you mean?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes. 

Hamar. Do you expect any one?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, your father writes to me that Mr. Finne is coming. 

Signe (speaking). The most tiresome person possible, of course. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. How would boiled salmon and roast chicken do?

Signe. We had that the other day. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. (With a sigh). There is nothing that we didn't. There isso little choice in the market just now. 

Signe. Then we ought to send to town. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, these meals, these meals!

Hamar (yawning). They are the best thing in life, anyway. 

Signe. To eat, yes--but not to cook; I never will cook a dinner. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (sitting down at the table). One could put up with thecooking. It's the having always to think of something fresh!

Hamar. Why don't you get a chef from one of the hotels, as I have sooften advised you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, we have tried that, but he was more trouble than itwas worth. 

Hamar. Yes, because he had no invention. Get a French chef!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, and have to be always beside him to interpret!--But Iam no nearer this dinner. And lately I have been finding such difficultyin getting about. 

Hamar. I have never in my life heard so much talk about meals as I havein this house. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You see, you have never been in a prosperousbusiness-man's house before. Our friends are mostly business-men, ofcourse--and most of them have no greater pleasures than those of thetable. 

Signe. That's true. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Are you wearing _that_ dress to-day?

Signe. Yes. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You have worn a different one every day. 

Signe. Well, if Hamar is tired of both the blue one and the grey one, what can I do?

Hamar. And I don't like this one any better than the others. 

Signe. Indeed!--Then I really think you had better order me oneyourself. 

Hamar. Come to town with me, and I will!

Signe. Yes, mother--Hamar and I have made up our minds that we must goback to town. [Note: There would be nothing contrary to Norwegian ideasof propriety in Signe's proposal. In Norway an engaged couple couldtravel alone; and the fiancée would go to stay in the house of herfuture husband's relations. ]

Mrs. Tjaelde. But you were there only a fortnight ago!

Hamar. And it is exactly a fortnight too long since we were there!

Mrs. Tjaelde. (thoughtfully). Now, what _can_ I order for dinner?

(VALBORG comes into sight on the verandah. )

Signe (turning round and seeing VALBORG). Enter Her Highness!

Hamar (turning round). Carrying a bouquet! Oho! I have seen it before!

Signe. Have you? Did _you_ give it her?

Hamar. No; I was coming through the garden--and saw it on the table inValborg's summerhouse. Is it your birthday, Valborg?

Valborg. No. 

Hamar. I thought not. Perhaps there is some other festivity to-day?

Valborg. No. (SIGNE suddenly bursts out laughing. )

Hamar. Why do you laugh?

Signe. Because I understand! Ha, ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. What do you understand?

Signe. Whose hands it is that have decked the altar! Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. I suppose you think they were mine?

Signe. No, they were redder hands than yours! Ha, ha, ha, ha! (VALBORGthrows the bouquet down. ) Oh, dear me, it doesn't do to laugh so much inthis heat. But it is delightful! To think he should have hit upon thatidea! Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar (laughing). Do you mean--?

Signe (laughing). Yes! You must know that Valborg--

Valborg. Signe!

Signe. --who has sent so many distinguished suitors about their business, cannot escape from the attentions of a certain red pair of hands--ha, ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. Do you mean Sannaes?

Signe. Yes! (Points out of the window. ) There is the culprit! He iswaiting, Valborg, for you to come, in maiden meditation, with thebouquet in your hands--as you came just now--

Mrs. Tjaelde. (getting up). No, it is your father he is waiting for. Ah, he sees him now. (Goes out by the verandah. )

Signe. Yes, it really is father--riding a bay horse!

Hamar (getting up). On a bay horse! Let us go and say "how do you do" tothe bay horse!

Signe. N--o, no!

Hamar. You won't come and say "how do you do" to the bay horse? Acavalry officer's wife must love horses next best to her husband. 

Signe. And he his wife next best to his horses. 

Hamar. What? Are you jealous of a horse?

Signe. Oh, I know very well you have never been so fond of me as you areof horses. 

Hamar. Come along! (Pulls her up out of her chair. )

Signe. But I don't feel the least interested in the bay horse. 

Hamar. Very well, then, I will go alone!

Signe. No, I will come. 

Hamar (to VALBORG). Won't you come and welcome the bay horse too?

Valborg. No, but I will go and welcome my father!

Signe (looking back, as she goes). Yes, of course--father as well. (Sheand HAMAR go out. )

(VALBORG goes to the farthest window and stands looking out of it. Herdress is the same colour as the long curtain, and a piece of statuaryand some flowers conceal her from any one entering the room. SANNAEScomes in, carrying a small saddle-bag and a cloak, which he puts downon a chair behind the door. As he turns round he sees the bouquet on thedoor. )

Sannaes. There it is! Has she dropped it by accident, or did she throwit down? Never mind--she has had it in her hands. (Picks it up, kissesit, and is going to take it away. )

Valborg (coming forward). Leave it alone!

Sannaes (dropping the bouquet). You here, Miss Valborg--? I didn't seeyou--

Valborg. But I can see what you are after. How dare you presume to thinkof persecuting me with your flowers and your--your red hands? (He putshis hands behind his back. ) How dare you make me a laughing-stock toevery one in the house, and I suppose to every one in the town?

Sannaes. I--I--I--

Valborg. And what about me? Don't you think I deserve a littleconsideration? You will be turned out of the house before long, if youdo not take care--! Now be quick and get away before the others come in. (SANNAES turns away, holding his hands in front of him, and goes out bythe verandah to the right. At the same moment TJAELDE is seen coming atthe other end of the verandah, followed by HAMAR and SIGNE. )

Tjaelde. Yes, it is a fine horse. 

Hamar. Fine? I don't believe there is its equal in the country. 

Tjaelde. I dare say. Did you notice that he hadn't turned a hair?

Hamar. What glorious lungs! And such a beauty, too--his head, his legs, his neck--! I never saw such a beauty!

Tjaelde. Yes, he is a handsome beast. (Looks out of the verandah at theyacht. ) Have you been out for a sail?

Hamar. I was sailing among the islands last night, and came back thismorning with the fishing-boats--a delightful sail!

Tjaelde. I wish I had time to do that. 

Hamar. But surely it is only imagination on your part, to think that younever have time?

Tjaelde. Oh, well, perhaps I have time but not inclination. 

Signe. And how do things stand where you have been?

Tjaelde. Badly. 

Valborg (coming forward). Welcome home, father!

Tjaelde. Thank you, dear!

Hamar. Is it not possible to save anything?

Tjaelde. Not at present; that is why I took the horse. 

Hamar. Then the bay horse is the only thing you get out of the smash?

Tjaelde. Do you know that I might say that horse has cost me three orfour thousand pounds?

Hamar. Well, that is its only defect, anyway! Still, if the worst comesto the worst, and you can afford it--the horse is priceless! (TJAELDEturns away, puts down his hat and coat and takes off his gloves. )

Signe. It is beautiful to see your enthusiasm when you talk abouthorses. I rather think it is the only enthusiasm you have. 

Hamar. Yes, if I were not a cavalry officer I should like to be a horse!

Signe. Thank you! And what should I be?

Valborg. "Oh, were I but the saddle on thy back! Oh, were I but the whipabout thy loins!"

Hamar. "Oh, were I but the flowers in thy--. " No, "hand" doesn't rhyme!

Tjaelde. (coming forward, meets MRS. TJAELDE, who has come in from theright. ) Well, my dear, how are you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, I find it more and more difficult to get about. 

Tjaelde. There is always something the matter with you, my dear! Can Ihave something to eat?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, it has been standing waiting for you. Here it comes. (A maid brings in a tray which she lays on the table. )

Tjaelde. Good!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Will you have a cup of tea?

Tjaelde. No, thank you. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. (sitting down beside him and pouring him out a glass ofwine). And how have things gone with the Möllers?

Tjaelde. Badly. I told you so already. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I didn't hear you. 

Valborg. I had a letter to-day from Nanna Möller. She tells me all aboutit--how none of the family knew anything about it till the officers ofthe courts came. 

Tjaelde. Yes, there must have been a dreadful scene. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Did he tell you anything about it?

Tjaelde (as he eats). I didn't speak to him. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. My dear! Why, you are old friends!

Tjaelde. Bah! Old friends! He sat looking as if he had taken leave ofhis senses. Besides, I have had enough of that family. I didn't go thereto hear them talk about their troubles. 

Signe. I suppose it was all very sad?

Tjaelde (still eating). Shocking!

Mrs. Tjaelde. What will they have to live on?

Tjaelde. What is allowed them by their creditors, of course. 

Signe. But all the things they had?

Tjaelde. Sold. 

Signe. All those pretty things--their furniture, their carriages, their--?

Tjaelde. All sold. 

Hamar. And his watch? It is the most beautiful watch I have everseen--next to yours. 

Tjaelde. It had to go, of course, being jewellery. Give me some wine; Iam hot and thirsty. 

Signe. Poor things!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Where are they going to live now?

Tjaelde. In the house of one of the skippers of what was their fleet. Two small rooms and a kitchen. 

Signe. Two small rooms and a kitchen! (A pause. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. What do they intend to do?

Tjaelde. There was a subscription started to enable Mrs. Möller to getthe job of catering for the Club. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Is the poor woman going to have more cooking to do!

Signe. Did they send no messages to us?

Tjaelde. Of course they did; but I didn't pay any attention to them. 

Hamar (who has been standing on the verandah). But Möller--what did hesay? What did he do?

Tjaelde. I don't know, I tell you. 

Valborg (who has been walking up and down the room during the precedingconversation). He has said and done quite enough already. 

Tjaelde (who has at last finished eating and drinking, is struck by herwords). What do you mean by that, Valborg?

Valborg. That if I were his daughter I would never forgive him. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. My dear Valborg, don't say such things!

Valborg. I mean it! A man who would bring such shame and misery upon hisfamily does not deserve any mercy from them. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. We are all in need of mercy. 

Valborg. In one sense, yes. But what I mean is that I could never givehim my respect or my affection again. He would have wronged me toocruelly. 

Tjaelde (getting up). Wronged you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Have you finished already, dear?

Tjaelde. Yes. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. No more wine?

Tjaelde. I said I had finished. Wronged you? How?

Valborg. Well, I cannot imagine how one could be more cruelly wrongedthan to be allowed to assume a position that was nothing but a lie, to live up to means that had no real existence but were merely asham--one's clothes a lie, one's very existence a lie! Suppose I werethe sort of girl that found a certain delight in making use of herposition as a rich man's daughter--in using it to the fullest possibleextent; well, when I discovered that all that my father had given me wasstolen-that all he had made me believe in was a lie--I am sure that thenmy anger and my shame would be beyond all bounds!

Mrs. Tjaelde. My child, you have never been tried. You don't know howsuch things may happen. You don't really know what you are saying!

Hamar. Well it might do Möller good if he heard what she says!

Valborg. He has heard it. His daughter said that to him. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. His own daughter! Child, child, is that what you write toeach other about? God forgive you both!

Valborg. Oh, He will forgive us, because we speak the truth. 

Mrs. Tialde. Child, child!

Tjaelde. You evidently don't understand what business is--success oneday and failure the next. 

Valborg. No one will ever persuade me that business is a lottery. 

Tjaelde. No, a sound business is not. 

Valborg. Exactly. It is the unsound sort that I condemn. 

Tjaelde. Still, even the soundest have their anxious moments. 

Valborg. If the anxious moments really foreshadow a crisis, no man ofhonour would keep his family o: his creditors in ignorance of the fact. My God, how Mr. Möller has deceived his!

Signe. Valborg is always talking about business!

Valborg. Yes, it has had an attraction for me ever since I was a child. I am not ashamed of that. 

Signe. You think you know all about it, anyway. 

Valborg. Oh, no; but you can easily get to know a little about anythingyou are fond of. 

Hamar. And one would need no great knowledge of business to condemn theway Möller went on. It was obvious to every one. And the way his familywent on, too! Who went the pace as much as the Möllers? Think of hisdaughter's toilettes!

Valborg. His daughter is my best friend. I don't want to hear herabused. 

Hamar. Your Highness will admit that it is possible to be the daughterof a _very_ rich man without being as proud and as vain as--as the ladyI am not allowed to mention!

Valborg. Nanna is neither proud nor vain. She is absolutely genuine. She had the aptitude for being exactly what she thought she was--a richman's daughter. 

Hamar. Has she the "aptitude" for being a bankrupt's daughter now?

Valborg. Certainly. She has sold all her trinkets, her dresses--everysingle thing she had. What she wears, she has either paid for herself orobtained by promising future payment. 

Hamar. May I ask if she kept her stockings?

Valborg. She sent everything to a sale. 

Hamar. If I had known that I would certainly have attended it!

Valborg. Yes, I daresay there was plenty to make fun of, and plenty ofidle loafers, too, who were not ashamed to do so. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Children, children!

Hamar. May I ask if Miss Nanna sent her own idleness to the sale withher other effects?--because I have never known any one with a finersupply of it!

Valborg. She never thought she would need to work. 

Tjaelde (coming forward to VALBORG). To take up the thread of what wewere saying: you don't understand what a business-man's hope is from oneday to the other--always a renewed hope. That fact does not make him aswindler. He may be unduly sanguine, perhaps--a poet, if you like, wholives in a world of dreams--or he may be a real genius, who sees landahead when no one else suspects it. 

Valborg. I don't think I misunderstand the real state of affairs. Butperhaps you do, father. Because is not what you call hope, poetry, genius, merely speculating with what belongs to others, when a man knowsthat he owes more than he has got?

Tjaelde. It may be very difficult to be certain even whether he doesthat or not. 

Valborg. Really? I should have thought his books would tell him--

Tjaelde. About his assets and his liabilities, certainly. But values arefluctuating things; and he may always have in hand some venture which, though it cannot be specified, may alter the whole situation. 

Valborg. If he undeniably owes more than he possesses, any venture heundertakes must be a speculation with other people's money. 

Tjaelde. Well--perhaps that is so; but that does not mean that he stealsthe money--he only uses it in trust for them. 

Valborg. Entrusted to him on the false supposition that he is solvent. 

Tjaelde. But possibly that money may save the whole situation. 

Valborg. That does not alter the fact that he has got the use of it by alie. 

Tjaelde. You use very harsh terms. (MRS. TJAELDE has once or twice beenmaking signs to VALBORG, which the latter sees but pays no attentionto. )

Valborg. In that case the lie consists in the concealment. 

Tjaelde. But what do you want him to do? To lay all his cards on thetable, and so ruin both himself and the others?

Valborg. Yes, he ought to take every one concerned into his confidence. 

Tjaelde. Bah! In that case we should see a thousand failures every year, and fortunes lost one after the other everywhere! No, you have a levelhead, Valborg, but your ideas are narrow. Look here, where are thenewspapers? (SIGNE, who has been talking confidentially to HAMAR on theverandah, comes forward. )

Signe. I took them down to your office. I did not know you meant to stayin here. 

Tjaelde. Oh, bother the office! Please fetch them for me. (SIGNE goesout, followed by Hamar. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (in an undertone to VALBORG). Why will you never listen toyour mother, Valborg? (VALBORG goes out to the verandah; leans on theedge of it, with her head on her hands, and looks out. )

Tjaelde. I think I will change my coat. Oh no, I will wait tilldinner-time. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Dinner! And here I am still sitting here!

Tjaelde. Are we expecting any one?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, have you forgotten?

Tjaelde. Of course, yes. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (going out). What on earth am I to order?

(TJAELDE comes forward as soon as he is alone, sits down on a chair witha weary, harassed expression, and buries his face in his hands with asigh. SIGNE and HAMAR come back, she carrying some newspapers. HAMAR isgoing out to the verandah again, but SIGNE pulls him back. )

Signe. Here you are, father. Here are--

Tjaelde. What? Who?

Signe (astonished). The newspapers. 

Tjaelde. Ah, yes. Give them to me. (Opens them hurriedly. They are mostlyforeign papers, in which he scans the money articles one after another. )

Signe (after a whispered conversation with HAMAR). Father!

Tjaelde (without looking up from the papers). Well? (To himself, gloomily. ) Down again, always down!

Signe. Hamar and I want so much to go into town again to Aunt Ulla's. 

Tjaelde. But you know you were there only a fortnight ago. I receivedyour bills yesterday. Have you seen them?

Signe. No need for that, father, if _you_ have seen them! Why do yousigh?

Tjaelde. Oh--because I see that stocks keep falling. 

Signe. Pooh! Why should you bother about that? Now you are sighingagain. I am sure you know how horrid it is for those you love not tohave what they want. You won't be so unkind to us, father?

Tjaelde. No, my child, it can't be done. 

Signe. Why?

Tjaelde. Because--because--well, because now that it is summer time somany people will be coming here whom we shall have to entertain. 

Signe. But entertaining people is the most tiresome thing I know, andHamar agrees with me. 

Tjaelde. Don't you think I have to do tiresome things sometimes, mygirl?

Signe. Father dear, why are you talking so solemnly and ceremoniously?It sounds quite funny from you!

Tjaelde. Seriously, my child, it is by no means an unimportant matterfor a big business house like ours, with such a wide-spread connection, that people coming here from all quarters should find themselveshospitably received. You might do that much for me. 

Signe. Hamar and I will never have a moment alone at that rate. 

Tjaelde. I think you mostly squabble when you are alone. 

Signe. Squabble? That is a very ugly word, father. 

Tjaelde. Besides, you would be no more alone if you were in town. 

Signe. Oh, but it is quite different there!

Tjaelde. So I should think--from the way you throw your money about!

Signe (laughing). Throw our money about! What else have we to do? Isn'tthat what we are for? Daddy, listen--dear old dad--

Tjaelde. No, dear--no. 

Signe. You have never been so horrid to me before. 

Hamar (who has been making signs to her to stop, whispers). Can't you bequiet! Don't you see he is put out about something?

Signe (whispering). Well, you might have backed me up a little. 

Hamar (as before). No, I am a bit wiser than you. 

Signe (as before). You have been so odd lately. I am sure I don't knowwhat you want?

Hamar (as before). Oh, well, it doesn't matter now--because I am goingto town alone. 

Signe (as before). What are you going to do?

Hamar (going). I am going to town alone. I am sick of this!

Signe (following him). Just you try! (Both go out by the verandah, tothe right. TJAELDE lets the newspapers fall out of his hands with aheavy sigh. )

Valborg (looking in from the verandah). Father! (TJAELDE starts. ) Theregoes Mr. Berent, the lawyer from Christiania. 

Tjaelde (getting up). Berent? Where? On the wharf?

Valborg. Yes. (Comes back into the room. TJAELDE looks out of thewindow. ) The reason I told you was because I saw him yesterday at thetimber-yard, and a little while before that, at the brewery and at theworks. 

Tjaelde (to himself). What can that mean? (Aloud. ) Oh, I know he is veryfond of making little trips to all sorts of places in the summer. Thisyear he has come here--and no doubt he likes to see the chief industriesof the place. There is not much else here to see! But are you sure it ishe? I think--

Valborg (looking out). Yes, it is he. Look now, you know his walk--

Tjaelde. --and his trick of crossing his feet--yes, it is he. It looks asif he were coming here. 

Valborg. No, he has turned away. 

Tjaelde. All the better! (To himself, thoughtfully. ) Could it possiblymean--? (SANNAES comes in from the right. )

Sannaes. Am I disturbing you, sir?

Tjaelde. Is that you, Sannaes? (SANNAES, as he comes forward, seesVALBORG standing by the farther window. He appears frightened and hideshis hands quickly behind his back. ) What do you want? (VALBORG looks atSANNAES, then goes on to the verandah and out to the right. ) What is it, man? What the deuce are you standing there for?

Sannaes (bringing his hands from behind his back as soon as VALBORG haspassed him, and looking after her. ) I didn't like to ask you, beforeMiss Valborg, whether you are coming down to your office to-day or not. 

Tjaelde. Have you gone mad? Why on earth shouldn't you ask me thatbefore Miss Valborg?

Sannaes. I mean that--if not--I should like to speak to you here, if itis convenient. 

Tjaelde. Look here, Sannaes, you ought to try and get rid of yourshyness; it doesn't suit a business man. A business man should be smartand active, and not let his wits go wool-gathering because he findshimself in the same room with a woman. I have often noticed it inyou. --Now, what is it? Out with it!

Sannaes. You are not coming to the office this morning, sir?

Tjaelde. No, there is no post goes out before this evening. 

Sannaes. No. But there are some bills of exchange--

Tjaelde. Bills? No. 

Sannaes. Yes, sir--that fourth one of Möller's that was protested, andthe big English one. 

Tjaelde (angrily). Have they not been met yet? What does this mean?

Sannaes. The manager of the bank wanted to see you first, sir!

Tjaelde. Have you gone crazy--? (Collects himself. ) There must be somemisunderstanding, Sannaes. 

Sannaes. That is what I thought; so I spoke about it to the chief clerk, and to Mr. Holst as well. 

Tjaelde. And Mr. Holst said--?

Sannaes. The same thing. 

Tjaelde (walking up and down). I will go and see him--or rather, I_won't_ go and see him; because this is evidently something that--. Wehave some days' grace yet, haven't we?

Sannaes. Yes, sir. 

Tjaelde. And still no telegram from Mr. Lind?

Sannaes. No, sir. 

Tjaelde (to himself). I can't understand it. (Aloud. ) We will negotiatethis matter direct with Christiania, Sannaes. That is what we willdo--and leave these little local banks alone in future. That will do, Sannaes! (Makes a gesture of dismissal. Then says to himself:) Thatdamned Möller! It has made them all suspicious! (Turns round and seesSANNAES still there. ) What are you waiting for?

Sannaes. It is settling day--and I have no money in the safe. 

Tjaelde. No money in the safe! A big business like this, and nothing inthe safe on settling day! What kind of management is that, I should liketo know? Must I teach you the A B C of business over and over again? Onecan never take a half day off, or hand over the control! of the tiniestpart of the business--! I have no one, absolutely no one, that I canrely on! How have you let things get into such a state?

Sannaes. Well, there was a third bill, which expired to-day--Holm andCo. , for £400. I had relied upon the bank, unfortunately--so there wasnothing for it but to empty the safe--here and at the brewery as well. 

Tjaelde (walking about restlessly). Hm--hm--hm!--Now, who can have putthat into Holst's head?--Very well, that will do. (Dismisses SANNAES, who goes out but comes back immediately. )

Sannaes (whispering). Here is Mr. Berent!

Tjaelde (surprised). Coming here?

Sannaes. He is just coming up the steps! (Goes out by the further dooron the right. )

Tjaelde. (calls after him in a whisper). Send up some wine andcakes!--It is just as I suspected! (Catches sight of himself in amirror. ) Good Lord, how bad I look! (Turns away painfully from themirror; looks in it again, forces a smile to his face, and so, smiling, goes towards the verandah, where BERENT is seen coming in slowly fromthe left. )

Tjaelde (greeting BERENT politely but with reserve). I feel honoured atreceiving a visit from so distinguished a man. 

Berent. Mr. Tjaelde, I believe?

Tjaelde. At your service! My eldest daughter has just been telling methat she had seen you walking about my property. 

Berent. Yes; an extensive property--and an extensive business. 

Tjaelde. Too extensive, Mr. Berent. Too many-sided. But one thing hasled to another. Pray sit down. 

Berent. Thank you; it is very warm to-day. (A maid brings in cakes andwine, and puts them on the table. )

Tjaelde. Let me give you a glass of wine?

Berent. No, thank you. 

Tjaelde. Or something to eat?

Berent. Nothing, thank you. 

Tjaelde (taking out his cigar-case). May I offer you a cigar? I cananswer for their quality. 

Berent. I am very fond of a good cigar. But for the moment I will nottake anything, thank you! (A pause. TJAELDE takes a seat. )

Tjaelde (in a quiet, confidential voice). Have you been long here, Mr. Berent?

Berent. Only a day or two. You have been away, have you not?

Tjaelde. Yes--that unhappy affair of Mr. Möller's. A meeting ofcreditors after the sale. 

Berent. Times are hard just now. 

Tjaelde. Extraordinarily so!

Berent. Do you think that Möller's failure will bring down any morefirms with it-besides those we know of already, I mean?

Tjaelde. I don't think so. His--his misfortune was an exceptional casein every respect. 

Berent. It has made the banks a little nervous, I hear. 

Tjaelde. I dare say. 

Berent. Of course you know the state of affairs here better than anyone. 

Tjaelde. (with a smile). I am very much indebted to you for yourflattering confidence in me. 

Berent. I suppose all this might have a bad effect upon the export tradeof this part of the country?

Tjaelde. Yes--it is really hard to tell; but the important thingcertainly is to keep every one on their legs. 

Berent. That is your opinion?

Tjaelde. Undoubtedly. 

Berent. As a general rule a crisis of this sort shows up the unsoundelements in a commercial community. 

Tjaelde (with a smile). And for that reason this crisis should beallowed to take its natural course, you mean?

Berent. That is my meaning. 

Tjaelde. Hm!--In some places it is possible that the dividing linebetween the sound firms and the unsound may not be very distinct. 

Berent. Can there really be any danger of such a thing here?

Tjaelde. Well--you are expecting too much of my knowledge of affairs;but I should be inclined to think that there may. (A pause. )

Berent. I have been instructed by the banks to prepare an opinion uponthe situation--a fact which I have, so far, only confided to you. 

Tjaelde. I am much obliged. 

Berent. The smaller local banks here have combined, and are acting inconcert. 

Tjaelde. Indeed? (A pause. ) I suppose you have seen Mr. Holst, then?

Berent. Of course. (A pause. ) If we are to assist the sound firms andleave the others to their fate, the best way will certainly be for allalike to disclose their actual position. 

Tjaelde. Is that Mr. Holst's opinion too?

Berent. It is. (A pause. ) I have advised him for the present--at allevents till we have all the balance-sheets--to say "no" to every requestfor an advance, without exception. 

Tjaelde. (with a look of relief). I understand!

Berent. Only a temporary measure, of course--

Tjaelde. Quite so!

Berent. --but one that must apply to every one impartially. 

Tjaelde. Admirable!

Berent. Not to treat every one alike would be to run the danger ofthrowing premature suspicion on individuals. 

Tjaelde. I quite agree. 

Berent. I am delighted to hear it. Then you will not misunderstand meif I ask you also to prepare a balance-sheet which shall show the actualposition of your firm. 

Tjaelde. With the greatest pleasure, if by doing so I can assist thegeneral welfare. 

Berent. I assure you, you can. It is by such means that publicconfidence is strengthened. 

Tjaelde. When do you want the balance-sheet? Of course, it can only be asummary one. 

Berent. Naturally. I will give myself the pleasure of calling for it. 

Tjaelde. By no means. I can let you have it at once, if you like. I amin the habit of frequently drawing up summary balance-sheets of thatkind--as prices rise and fall, you know. 

Berent. Indeed? (Smiles. ) You know, of course, what they say ofswindlers--that they draw up three balance-sheets everyday, and alldifferent! But you are teaching me, apparently--

Tjaelde (laughing). --that others too, may have that bad habit!--though Ihaven't actually got as far as three a day!

Berent. Of course I was only joking. (Gets up. )

Tjaelde (getting up). Of course. I will send it to the hotel in anhour's time; for I suppose you are staying in our only so-called hotel!Would you not care, for the rest of your stay, to move your things overhere and make yourself at home in a couple of empty spare rooms that Ihave?

Bercnt. Thank you, but the length of my stay is so uncertain; and thestate of my health imposes habits upon me which are embarrassing toevery one, and to myself most of all, when I am among strangers. 

Tjaelde. But at all events I hope you will dine with us to-day? I expectone or two friends. And perhaps a short sail afterwards; it is verypretty among the islands here. 

Berent. Thank you, but my health won't allow me such dissipations. 

Tjaelde. Ha, ha!--Well, if I can be of any further service to you--?

Berent. I should be glad to have a talk with you before I leave, preferably as soon as possible. 

Tjaelde (somewhat surprised). You mean, after you have received all thebalance-sheets?

Berent. I have already managed to get most of them quietly, through Mr. Holst. 

Tjaelde (more surprised). Oh--so you mean to-day--?

Berent. Would five o'clock suit you?

Tjaelde. I am quite at your disposal! I will give myself the pleasure ofcalling upon you at five. 

Berent. No, I will come here at five o'clock. (Bows, and turns to go. )

Tjaelde (following him). But you are the invalid--the older man--and adistinguished man--

Berent. But you are at home here. Good-bye!

Tjaelde. Let me thank you for the honour you have done me by callingupon me!

Berent. Please don't bother to see me out. 

Tjaelde. Allow me to escort you?

Berent. I can find the way quite well, thank you. 

Tjaelde. No doubt, no doubt-but I should feel it an honour!

Berent. As you please! (As they are about to go down the verandah stepsthey are met by SIGNE and HAMAR, who are coming up arm in arm. Eachcouple draws aside to make room for the other. )

Tjaelde. Let me introduce--no, I am sure Mr. Berent needs nointroduction. This is my youngest daughter--and her fiancé, LieutenantHamar. 

Berent. I thought your regiment was at the manoeuvres, Lieutenant?

Hamar. I have got furlough--

Berent. On account of urgent business, no doubt! Good day!

Tjaelde. Ha, ha, ha! (He and BERENT go down the steps. )

Hamar. Insolent fellow! But he is like that to every one. 

Signe. Not to my father, as far as I could see. 

Hamar. Your father is insolent too. 

Signe. You shan't say such things of father!

Hamar. What else do you call it, to laugh at such impertinence asBerent's. 

Signe. I call it good spirits! (Sits down in a rocking-chair and beginsrocking herself. )

Hamar. Oh, then, so you--. You are not very agreeable to-day. 

Signe (still rocking herself). No; do you know, sometimes I get so boredwith you. 

Hamar. Yet you won't let me go away?

Signe. Because I should be still worse bored without you. 

Hamar. Let me tell you this, I am not going to put up much longer withthe way I am treated here!

Signe. Very well. (Takes off her engagement ring and holds it betweenher finger and her thumb, as she rocks herself and hums a tune. )

Hamar. Oh, I don't say anything about _you_; but look at Valborg! Lookat your father! He hasn't even as much as offered me a mount on his newhorse!

Signe. He has had something else to think about--possibly something evenmore important than that. (Goes on humming. )

Hamar. Oh, do be nice, Signe! You must admit that my feelings are verynatural. Indeed, to speak quite candidly--because I know I can sayanything to you--it seems to me that, as I am to be his son-in-law andam in a cavalry regiment, and as he has no sons of his own, I mightalmost expect that--that he would make me a present of the horse. 

Signe. Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. Does it seem so unreasonable to you?

Signe. Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. Why do you laugh at what I say, Signe? It seems to me that itwould reflect very well on your family if, when my friends admired myhorse, I could say: "My father-in-law made me a present of it. " Because, you know, there isn't a finer horse in the whole of Norway. 

Signe. And that is the reason why you should have it? Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. I won't stand it!

Signe. The peerless lieutenant on the peerless horse! Ha, ha, ha!

Hamar. Signe, be quiet!

Signe. You are so funny! (Begins to hum again. )

Hamar. Listen, Signe! No one has so much influence with your father asyou. --Oh, do listen! Can't you talk seriously for a moment?

Signe. I should like to! (Goes on humming. )

Hamar. My idea was that, if that horse were mine, I would stay here forthe summer and break it in thoroughly. (SIGNE stops rocking herself andhumming. HAMAR comes up to her chair and leans over her. ) In that caseI would not go back till the autumn, and then you could come with thehorse and me into town. Wouldn't that be delightful?

Signe (after looking at him for a moment). Oh, yes, my dear, you alwayshave such delightful ideas!

Hamar. Don't I! But the whole thing depends, of course, on whether youcan get the horse from your father. Will you try, darling?

Signe. And then you would stay here all the summer?

Hamar. All the summer!

Signe. So as to break in the horse. 

Hamar. Just to break in the horse!

Signe. And I would go with you into town in the autumn--that was whatyou said, wasn't it?

Hamar. Yes; wouldn't it be jolly?

Signe. Shall you take the bay horse to stay with your Aunt Ulla too?

Hamar (laughing). What?

Signe. Well, you have spent your furlough here simply for the sake ofthat horse--I know that well enough--and you propose to stay here, justto break it in-and then you propose that the horse and I should go toyour aunt's--

Hamar. But, Signe, what do you--?

Signe (beginning to rock herself furiously). Ugh! Go away!

Hamar. Jealous of a horse! Ha, ha, ha!

Signe. Go away to the stables. 

Hamar. Is that meant for a punishment? Because it would be more amusingthere than it is here. 

Signe (throwing down her ring). There! Let your horse wear that!

Hamar. Every time you throw down that ring--

Signe. Oh, you have said that so often! I am tired of that too! (Turnsher chair round so as to turn her back on him. )

Hamar. You are such a spoilt child that it would be absurd to takeeverything you say seriously--

Signe. I am sick of that too, I tell you--for the hundred and twentiethtime! Go away!

Hamar. But can't you see how ridiculous it is of you to be jealous of ahorse? Have you ever heard of anyone else behaving like that?

Signe (jumping up). Oh, you make me want to shout and scream! I feel soashamed of you! (Stamps her foot. ) I despise you!

Hamar (laughing). And all on account of the horse?

Signe. No, on your own account--yours, yours! I feel so miserablesometimes, I should like to throw myself down on the floor and cry--orrun away and never come back! Can't you let me alone! Can't you go away!

Hamar. Yes--and I have not picked up the ring this time, either!

Signe. Oh, do go!--go, go, go! (Bursts out crying and sits down. )

Hamar. All right!--I see the steamer in the distance; I shall go home atonce. 

Signe. Oh, you know as well as I do that that steamer goes the otherway! Oh! (Cries. The masts and funnel of a steamer come into sight, anda trail of smoke passes over the sky. TJAELDE'S voice is heard outside, calling: "Hurry up! Take the lieutenant's boat; it is ready!" SIGNEjumps up. )

Hamar. They are going to fetch some one from the steamer! (TJAELDE'Svoice is heard again: "You get the boat out! He is coming here!" HAMARruns to pick up the ring and comes back hurriedly to SIGNE. ) Signe!

Signe. No, I won't!

Hamar. Signe, dear! What does this mean? What is it that I have done?

Signe. I don't know, but I am wretchedly unhappy! (Bursts into tears. )

Hamar. But you know that in the end I always do what you want? What morecan you wish than that?

Signe. I can't help it, I wish I were dead! It is always the same thing!(In tears again. )

Hamar. But, Signe--you who have told me hundreds of times that you lovedme!

Signe. And so I do. But sometimes our engagement seems horrible!--No, don't come near me!

Hamar. Signe! (TJAELDE'S voice is heard outside: "Of course, put yourbest coat on!" He calls louder: "Sannaes!" An answering voice is heardin the distance. TJAELDE continues: "Don't forget your gloves!") Dryyour eyes, Signe! Don't let him see you have been crying. (He tries togive her the ring, but she turns away, wiping her eyes. TJAELDE comes upthe steps on to the verandah. )

Tjaelde. Oh, there you are! That's right. Mr. Lind is arriving bythis steamer--I had a telegram from him just now. (Calls out over theverandah. ) Come along with those flags! And get this boat out of the wayand unstep her mast! She is moored up tight! (HAMAR runs to help him. )Yes, you cast her off! (HAMAR does so, and the boat is hauled away tothe right. TJAELDE comes forward into the room. ) Signe! (Looks at her. )What? Squabbling again?

Signe. Father!

Tjaelde. Well, this is no time for tomfoolery of that sort! You must alldo the honours of the house to-day. Tell Valborg--

Signe. Tell her yourself, please! You know Valborg only does just whatshe likes. 

Tjaelde. Don't talk such rubbish! This is an important moment--and youwill all do as _I_ say! Tell Valborg that she is to make herself looknice and come to me here. And you do the same. (She goes. ) Signe!

Signe (stopping). Yes?

Tjaelde. We must ask five or six more people to dinner. You must sendword to Mr. Finne that we shall dine punctually at three o'clock, instead of four. Mr. Lind has to go away again by the next boat, at fiveo'clock. Do you understand?

Signe. But has mother enough in the house for so many?

Tjaelde. It is not a mere question of there being enough--it must be avery good dinner. I expect my larder to be kept thoroughly well stockedall through the summer. How often am I to repeat that?

Signe (trying to repress her fears). But mother is feeling so illto-day--

Tjaelde. Oh! don't begin about that everlasting "feeling ill. " Thereis no time to-day to feel ill. Now, be quick! (SIGNE goes out by thefarther door. TJAELDE turns to HAMAR. ) Get a pen and ink and some paper!We must draw up a list of guests, at once!

Hamar (looking about). There is none here. 

Tjaelde (impatiently). Fetch some, then! (HAMAR goes into the next room. TJAELDE, after a long sigh of relief, reads a telegram he has in hishand. His hand trembles as he reads it slowly, repeating some passagestwice. ) "Letter received just as starting. Before taking charge ofaffairs, must have interview. Coming to-day earliest boat, return fiveo'clock. Have clear statement ready. Lind. " I can hardly read it--but itis true! Yes, if I can only work this properly all doors will be open tome! (To HAMAR, who has come back. ) Ah, there you are! It would take toolong to write invitations. We will just draw up a list of names andone of my clerks shall run round to them all. Now then! (Dictates. ) TheVicar--Oh, by the way, what is the champagne like?

Hamar. Do you mean the new lot?

Tjaelde. Yes. 

Hamar. The Vicar praised it highly. 

Tjaelde. Good. Well, then--

Hamar (writing). The Vicar. 

Tjzlde. Mr. Ring. 

Hamar. Mr. Ring. 

Tjaelde. And--and--

Hamar. Mr. Holst?

Tjaelde. No, not Holst. (HAMAR appears greatly astonished. TJAELDE saysto himself:) I can show him now that I have no need of him! (Suddenly, to HAMAR. ) Mr. Holm. (To himself. ) Holst's enemy!

Hamar. Mr. Holm. 

Tjaelde (to himself). Although Holm is a boor. Still, it will annoyHolst. (Aloud. ) The Chief Constable. 

Hamar. The Chief--

Tjaelde. No, strike out the Chief Constable. 

Hamar. Chief Constable struck out. 

Tjaelde. Have we got the Vicar down?

Hamar. He is number one on the list. 

Tjaelde. Of course, yes. 

Hamar. What about the Magistrate?

Tjaelde. No, he lives too far off. Besides, unless he is the guestof honour and can talk shop all the time--. No! But, let me see. Mr. Knutzon--Knutzon with a "z. "

Hamar. Knutzon with a "z. "

Tjaelde. Oh!--and--Knudsen, too! Knudsen with an "s. "

Hamar. Knudsen with an "s. "

Tjaelde. How many have we got?

Hamar. The Vicar, Ring, Holm, the Chief--oh, no, the Chief Constable wasstruck out; Knutzon with a "z, " Knudsen with an "s "--that is one, two, three, four, five, six. 

Tjaelde. And Finne, you, and I make nine. We must have twelve. 

Hamar. What about some ladies?

Tjaelde. No; ladies are out of place at a business dinner. They may dothe honours afterwards, when we have got to the cigarette stage. Butwhom shall we--?

Hamar. That new lawyer fellow? He's a smart chap--I can't remember hisname?

Tjaelde. No, he always wants to be speechifying wherever he goes. --Ah, Mr. Pram, the custom-house officer!

Hamar. That man? He always gets drunk!

Tjaelde. Yes, but he doesn't get noisy with it. He does no harm--quitethe contrary! Yes, put down Pram. 

Hamar. Mr. Pram. 

Tjaelde. It is a very difficult task, in such a small town, when youwant to get a good set of people together. Ah!--Falbe! I forgot him. Heis very neat, and no opinions. 

Hamar. Neat in his dress, do you mean?

Tjaelde. Yes, in his dress too-but I meant it more generally. Now, forthe twelfth--Morten Schultz?

Hamar. Morten Schultz! (Gets up. ) No, really, I must take the liberty ofprotesting against him! Do you really know what he did the last time hewas here, when you had a lot of guests? In the middle of dinner he tookout his false teeth and began showing them to his neighbours. He wantedto have them passed round the table! If that is your idea of a good setof people--well!

Tjaelde. Yes, he is rather a rough diamond. But he is the richest manabout here. 

Hamar (who has sat down again). Well in that case he really ought toafford himself a new wig! It is far from pleasant to sit beside him, Ican assure you!

Tjaelde. Yes, I know he is a pig; but he is wide awake, and this wouldflatter him! You see, my young friend, when a man is very rich you mustmake certain allowances for him. 

Hamar. I can't understand what _you_ can hope to get out of him. 

Tjaelde. Hm, hm!--No, well, perhaps we had better leave him out?

Hamar. Certainly!

Tjaelde (to himself). Although Lind would understand the significance ofMorten Schultz's being here--

Hamar. And the things he says! Ladies have to leave the room!

Tjaelde. Yes, you are right. (Mutters to himself. ) And, after all, Idon't need him any longer. (Aloud. ) But what about our twelfth, then?Let me see--. 

Hamar. Christopher Hansen?

Tjaelde. Oh, Lord! no. We should have to talk politics. No, letme see--. Yes, I think I might risk it! Hm, hm--yes, just the man!Jakobsen, the brewery manager. 

Hamar. Jakobsen?

Tjaelde. Hm, hm! Jakobsen will do very well. I know Jakobsen. 

Hamar. Oh, he is a very good fellow--we all know that, but in politesociety--!

Tjaelde. Hm, hm, hm!--Put him down!

Hamar (writing). Jakobsen. There, then! (Gets up. )

Tjaelde. Now let Skogstad go with the list! Remember, three o'clockpunctually! And be quick! (Calls after HAMAR, who is going out. ) Andcome back when you have given him the list! There may be something moreto do! (HAMAR goes out by the nearer door. TJAELDE takes a letter out ofhis pocket. ) Ah, of course! Shall I send the balance-sheet to Berent?I am independent of the banks now. Still, I am not out of the wood yet. And, anyway, it is a very pretty balance-sheet! Holst would be sure tosee it, and that might be useful--and it might annoy him, too. Besides, if I don't send it, they will think that my promising to send it had putme into a hole, and that Lind had helped me out of it. I risk least bysending it. (HAMAR comes back. ) Look here, let him take this letter, too. It is for Mr. Berent, at the Hotel Victoria. 

Hamar. Is this an invitation? Because, if it is, we shall be thirteen attable. 

Tjaelde. It is not an invitation. Be quick, before he goes. (HAMAR goesout again. ) Oh, if only it succeeds! Lind is the sort of man one canpersuade--and I must, I must persuade him! (Looks at his watch. ) I havefour whole hours to do it in. I have never felt so hopeful--not for along time. (Is lost in thought; then says quietly:) After all, sometimesa crisis is a good thing--like a big wave that carries one on!--Theyhave all had their suspicions aroused now, and are all ready to getinto a panic. (Sighs. ) If only I could get safely out of my difficultieswithout any one's suspecting it!--Oh, this anxious fear, night andday!--all this mystery, these shifts, these concealments, this farceI have to keep up! I go about my business as if I were in a dream. (Despairingly. ) This shall be the last time--my last performance of thissort! No more of it!--I only need a helping hand now, and I have got it!But _have_ I got it? that is the question. Oh! if only, after this, Icould know what it was to have a good night's sleep and to wake inthe morning free from anxiety!--to join them at meals with an easyconscience!--come home in the evening and feel that it was all donewith! If only I had something to take my stand upon that I could call myown--really and truly my own! I hardly dare to believe that there is achance--I have so often been disappointed! (HAMAR comes back. )

Hamar. There--that's done!

Tjaelde. Good Lord, what about a salute from our cannon? We must givehim a salute!

Hamar. We have powder. 

Tjaelde. Then send word up at once to Ole to see about it! (They hurryout. The curtain falls. )

ACT II

SCENE I

(SCENE. --The same room. The table, which has been drawn to one side, iscovered with bottles of champagne aged dishes of fruit. MRS. TJAELDE andSIGNE, with a man-servant and a maid, are busy preparing it. Throughthe door on the right a lively conversation can be heard, and occasionalbursts of laughter. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (in a tired voice). Now I think it is all ready. 

Signe. They are talking a long time over their dinner. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (looking at her watch). Yes, they will only have half anhour for their dessert, because Mr. Lind has to leave at five o'clock. 

Signe. Ah, they have finished at last! Listen, they are getting up fromthe table. (Amidst the loud noise of conversation the noise of chairsbeing pushed back is audible. ) Here they come!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes; let us retreat. (The maid goes out by the fartherdoor; SIGNE helps MRS. TJAELDE out after her. The man-servant beginsopening the champagne. The guests come in from the dining-room, headedby LIND escorted by TJAELDE, whom he is assuring that the dinner wasexcellent, to which TJAELDE replies that it is impossible to do much ina small country town. Both look at their watches, and observe that thereis only half an hour left. TJAELDE vainly endeavours to persuade LINDto stay longer. Close behind them come HOLM and RING, engaged in ananimated dispute about timber prices, the former maintaining that theywill fall still lower, the latter that they will rise speedily owingto the fall in the prices of coal and iron, a point of view which theformer vigorously controverts. Immediately behind them comes the VICAR, escorted by HAMAR, who is a little tipsy. The VICAR is assuring him thathe has no objection to parishioners repudiating the obligation to attendthe services of their own priest, so long as they are compelled to payhim for those services whether they avail themselves of them or not;because order, which is an essential characteristic of the HeavenlyKingdom, must be maintained. HAMAR tries to get in a word or two aboutthe bay horse, but without success. At the same time KNUTZON and FALBEare deep in a discussion about a dancer whom FALBE has seen at Hamburg. He is maintaining that she can leap six feet into the air, which KNUTZONventures to doubt, but FALBE says there is no doubt about it, and heknows because he has once sat at the same dinner-table with her. FINNE, KNUDSEN, and JAKOBSEN follow them. JAKOBSEN is heard challenging any oneto contradict him, while the others eagerly protest that he has entirelymisunderstood their meaning. He affirms stoutly that he doesn't care adamn what they meant, but that his employer is the greatest businessman and the finest fellow in the world, or at all events in Norway. PRAMcomes in by himself, wrapt in tipsy contemplation. They all talk at thesame time. )

Tjaelde (rapping on a glass). Gentlemen! (There is a sudden silence, except for the sound of the voices of FALBE and JAKOBSEN, who are husheddown by the others. ) Gentlemen! I am sorry dinner has occupied such along time. 

All (unanimously). No, no!

Tjaelde. Our distinguished guest has, unfortunately, to leave us in halfan hour, so I should like to take the opportunity of saying a few words. Gentlemen, we have a prince among us to-day. I say a prince, becauseif it is true that it is the financiers that rule the world--and it istrue, gentlemen--

Pram (who is standing well forward, supporting himself by the edge ofthe table, says solemnly:) Yes. 

Tjaelde. --then our friend here is a prince! There is not a singleimportant undertaking that he has not initiated, or at any rate backedwith his name. 

Pram (lifting his glass). Mr. Lind, may I have the honour--?

Voices. Sh! Sh!

Tjaelde. Yes, gentlemen, his name backs every enterprise. It would beimpossible to carry one through that had not his backing. 

Pram (solemnly). His backing. 

Tjaelde. Am I not right, then, in describing him as a prince?

Falbe (in a feeble voice). Yes. 

Tjaelde. Gentlemen, to-day his name is once more exercising itspowerful, I might say its creative, influence upon circumstances. I maysay that at this moment the country holds no truer benefactor than he. 

Pram. Great man. 

Tjaelde. Let us drink his health! May prosperity attend him and his, andmay his name be deathless in Norway! Mr. Lind!

All. Mr. Lind! Mr. Lind! (They all drink his health effusively. )

Tjaelde (to HAMAR, whom he pulls forward somewhat roughly, as the othersbegin to help themselves to the dessert. ) What has become of the salute?

Hamar (in consternation). Good Lord, yes! (Rushes to the window, butcomes back. ) I have no handkerchief. I must have laid it down in thedining-room. 

Tjaelde. Here is mine!(Feels in his pocket for it. ) One cannot relyon you for the least thing. The salute will be too late now. It isdisgraceful! (HAMAR goes to the window and waves the handkerchief madly. At last the report of a cannon is heard. The guests are standing in agroup, holding their dessert plates. )

Holm. A little bit late!

Knutzon. Rather behind the moment--

Ring. A very important moment, however!

Holm. A very unexpected one, anyway!

Knutzon (jestingly). Allow me, amidst the cannon's roar, to introduce toyou a man who has been led by the nose!

Ring. Oh, Tjaelde knows what he is about!

Tjaelde. Mr. Lind is kind enough to wish to propose a toast. (They allcompose themselves into respectful silence. )

Lind. Our worthy host has proposed my health in most flattering terms. I would merely add this, that wealth is entrusted to those who have itprecisely in order that they may support industry, genius, and greatundertakings. 

Pram (who has never changed his position). Nobly said. 

Lind. I am only an administrator of a trust, and too often a weak andshort-sighted one. 

Pram. Beautiful. 

Lind. But I shall not be mistaken if I say that Mr. Tjaelde's many-sidedactivities, which we must all admire, rest upon a sound foundation; andof that fact no one, at the present moment, is better able to judge thanI. (The guests look at one another in surprise. ) Therefore I have nohesitation in saying that his activities are an honour to this town, tothis district, to our whole country, and that therefore his genius andhis energy deserve support. I propose the toast of "prosperity to thefirm of Tjaelde!"

All. Prosperity to the firm of Tjaelde!

(HAMAR signals again with the handkerchief, and a cannon shot is heard. )

Tjaelde. I thank you heartily, Mr. Lind! I am profoundly touched. 

Lind. I said no more than I am convinced of, Mr. Tjaelde!!

Tjaelde. Thank you! (To HAMAR. ) What do you mean by signalling for asalute for the host? Blockhead!

Hamar. You said there was to be a salute when a toast was proposed, didn't you?

Tjaelde. Oh, you are a--!

Hamar (to himself). Well, if ever again I--!

Holm. Then it is an accomplished fact, I suppose?

Knutzon. _Fait accompli_! That toast represents twenty thousand pounds, at least. 

Ring. Yes, Tjaelde knows what he is about! I have always said that!(FALBE is seen drinking ceremoniously with LIND. JAKOBSEN comes forward, talking to KNUDSEN. )

Jakobsen (in a low voice). There isn't a word of truth in what you say!

Knudsen. But, my dear Jakobsen, you misunderstand me!

Jakobsen (louder). Hang it, I know my people!

Knudsen. Don't talk so loud!

Jakobsen (still louder). What I say any one may hear!

Tjaelde. (at the same moment). The Vicar wishes to say a few words. 

Knudsen (to JAKOBSEN). Hush! The Vicar wishes to say a few words. 

Jakobsen. Have I got to hush because that damned--

Tjaelde (in a voice of authority). The Vicar wishes to speak. 

Jakobsen. I beg your pardon!

The Vicar (in a feeble voice). As the spiritual adviser of thishousehold, I have the pleasing duty of invoking a blessing on the giftsthat have been so richly showered upon our host and his friends. Maythey be to their souls' present good and eternal welfare!

Pram. Amen. 

The Vicar. I am going to ask you to drink the health of our host's dearchildren--those lovely girls whose welfare has been the object of myprayers ever since they were confirmed--ever since that memorable daywhen household and religious duties began to walk side by side. 

Pram. Ah, yes!

The Vicar. May they always in the future, as they have in the past, grow in the holy fear of God and in meekness and gratitude towards theirparents!

All. Miss Valborg, Miss Signe!

Hamar (in a panic). Am I to signal?

Tjaelde. Oh, go to--!

Hamar. Well, if ever again--!

Tjaelde. Thank you very much, Mr. Vicar. Like you, I hope that theintimate relations between parent and child that exist here--

The Vicar. It has always been a pleasure to me to come into your mosthospitable house. 

Tjaelde. May I have the honour of drinking a glass of wine with you?(They drink to each other. )

The Vicar. Excellent champagne, my dear sir!

Lind (to HOLM). It pains me to hear what you say. Is it possible thatthis town, which owes so much to Mr. Tjaelde, repays him with suchingratitude?

Holm (in a low voice). One never can quite confidently rely on him. 

Lind. Really? I have heard others sing his praises so loudly, you know. 

Holm (as before). You misunderstand me. I mean his position--

Lind. His position? That must be merely envy! People are often so unjusttowards those whose enterprise has lifted them above the heads of thecrowd. 

Holm. At any rate I assure you it was not from--

Lind (coldly). I don't doubt it. (Walks away from him. )

Jakobsen (with whom TJAELDE has just drunk). Gentlemen!

Knutzon (to HOLM, in passing). Is that boor really going to be allowedto make a speech! (Going up to LIND. ) May I have the honour of drinkinga glass of wine with you, Mr. Lind? (Several of the guests begin totalk, ostentatiously indifferent to JAKOBSEN who is trying to begin hisspeech. )

Jakobsen (in a formidable voice). Gentlemen! (Silence ensues, and hecontinues in his usual voice. ) Permit a common man to say a word, too, on this festive occasion. I was a poor little boy when I entered Mr. Tjaelde's employment; but he pulled me out of the gutter. (Laughter. ) Iam-what I am, gentlemen! And therefore if any here is qualified to talkabout Mr. Tjaelde, it is I; because I know him. I know he is a finefellow. 

Lind (to TJAELDE). Children and drunken men--

Tjaelde (laughing). --speak the truth!

Jakobsen. There are lots of people that will tell you one thing oranother about him--and, of course, he may have his failings like all ofus. But as I find myself in such fine company as this I am going to saythat--that--devil take me if Mr. Tjaelde isn't too good for the lot ofyou! (Laughter. )

Tjaelde. That's enough, Jakobsen!

Jakobsen. No, it's not enough! Because there is one toast we have allforgotten, although we have all had such a splendid dinner. (Laughter. FALBE claps his hands and cries: "Bravo!") Yes, and it is nothing tolaugh at; because it is the toast of Mrs. Tjaelde's health that we havenot drunk!

Lind. Bravo!

Jakobsen. There's a wife and mother for you! I can tell you--and it'strue--she goes about the house attending to her duties and preparing forour entertainment when all the time she is ill, and she takes the wholething on her shoulders and says nothing. God bless her, I say!--and thatis all I have to say. 

Several of the Guests (raising their glasses). Mrs. Tjaelde! Mrs. Tjaelde!

Pram (grasping JAKOBSEN by the hand). That was fine of you, Jakobsen!(LIND joins them; PRAM steps aside respectfully. )

Lind. Will you drink a glass of wine with me, Jakobsen?

Jakobsen. Thank you, very much. I am only a common man--

Lind. But a good-hearted one! Your health! (They drink to each other. Aboat is seen putting in to shore below the verandah. Its crew of six menstand up and toss their oars in naval fashion. SANNAES is standing atthe helm. )

Holm (in a whisper, to KNUTZON). Tjaelde knew what he was doing when heinvited Jakobsen!

Knutzon (whispering). Just look at the boat!

Ring. Tjaelde is a very clever fellow--a very clever fellow! (VALBORG, SIGNE and MRS. TJAELDE are seen coming up the verandah steps. )

Tjaelde. Gentlemen, the moment of departure is at hand; I see the ladiescoming to take leave of our distinguished guest. Let us take this lastopportunity of gathering around him--round our prince--and thanking himfor coming! Let us cheer him with three times three! (Cheers. )

Lind. Thank you, gentlemen! There is so little time left that I mustconfine myself to merely bidding you all good-bye. (To MRS. TJAELDE. )Good-bye, my dear madam! You should have heard how your health wasproposed and drunk just now. My warmest thanks for your hospitality, andforgive me for the trouble I have caused you. (To SIGNE. ) Good-bye, Miss Signe. I am sorry time has not permitted me to have the honour ofbecoming better acquainted with you; you seem so full of spirit! But if, as you said, you are soon coming to Christiania--

Signe. I shall then do myself the honour of calling upon your wife. 

Lind. Thank you, thank you--you will be most welcome. (To VALBORG. ) Areyou not feeling well, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. Yes. 

Lind. You look so serious. (As VALBORG does not reply, he continuessomewhat coldly:) Good-bye, Miss Valborg. (To HAMAR. ) Good-bye, Mr. --Mr. --

Tjaelde. Mr. Hamar. 

Lind. Ah, the young man that talked to me about a horse--your futureson-in-law! Pray forgive me for not--

Hamar. Don't mention it!

Lind. Good-bye!

Hamar. A pleasant journey, sir!

Lind (coldly, to HOLM). Good-bye, Mr. Holm. 

Holm (imperturbably polite). I wish you a very pleasant journey, Mr. Lind. 

Lind (to PRAM). Good-bye, Mr. Pram. 

Pram (holds his hand, and seems as if he wanted to say something butcould not. At last he finds his voice). I want to thank you for--for--Iwant to thank you for--for--

Lind. You are an excellent fellow!

Pram (in a relieved voice). I am so glad to hear it! Thank you. 

Lind (to KNUTZON). Good-bye, Mr. --

Knutzon (hastily). Knutzon. 

Pram. With a "z. "

Lind (to KNUDSEN). Good-bye, Mr. --

Knudsen. Knudsen, again. 

Pram. With an "s. "

Lind (to FALBE). Mr--?

Falbe. Falbe. 

Lind. Good-bye, Mr. Falbe! (To RING. ) I am delighted to see you lookingso well, Mr. Ring. 

Ring (with a low bow). The same to you, sir!

Lind. Good-bye, Mr. Vicar!

The Vicar (holding his hand, impressively). Let me wish you good luckand happiness, Mr. Lind--

Lind. Thank you. (Tries to get away. )

The Vicar. --in your journey over the perilous seas to foreign lands!

Lind. Thank you. (Tries to get away. )

The Vicar. Let me wish you a safe return, Mr. Lind--

Lind. Thank you very much. (Tries to get away. )

The Vicar. --to our dear fatherland; a land, Mr. Lind, which possesses inyou--

Lind. You must excuse me, Mr. Vicar, but time presses. 

The Vicar. Let me thank you for the pleasure of our meeting to-day, Mr. Lind, for--

Lind. Indeed, there is no occasion! Good-bye! (To JAKOBSEN. ) Good-bye, Jakobsen, good-bye!

Jakobsen. Good-bye, Mr. Lind! I am only a common man, I know; but thatis no reason why I shouldn't wish you a pleasant journey too, is it?

Lind. Certainly not, Jakobsen. --Good-bye, Mr. Finne! By the way--just aword! (In an undertone. ) You said that Mr. Berent--. (Takes him aside. )

Tjaelde (to HAMAR). Now, remember the salute this time!--No, no, no!Don't be in such a hurry! Wait till the boat puts off! You want to makea mess of it again!

Hamar. Well, if ever again I--!

Tjaelde (to LIND, who holds out his hand to him). Goodbye, Mr. Lind! (Ina low voice. ) No one has so much reason to thank you for your visit asI. You are the only one that can understand--. 

Lind (a shade coldly). Don't mention it, Mr. Tjaelde! Good luck to yourbusiness! (In warmer tones. ) Good-bye everybody--and thank you all foryour kindness! (The footman, who has for some time been holding out hishat to him, gives it him, and his coat to SANNAES. LIND steps on boardthe boat. )

All. Good-bye, Mr. Lind, good-bye!

Tjaelde. One cheer more! (Cheers and a cannon salute are heard together. The boat glides away. They all wave their handkerchiefs. TJAELDE hurriesinto the room. ) I have no handkerchief; that blockhead has--. (Looks atVALBORG. ) Why are you not waving?

Valborg. Because I don't wish to. (TJAELDE looks at her, but saysnothing. He goes into the other room and comes back with a table-napkinin each hand, and hurries on to the verandah. )

Tjaelde (waving and shouting). Good-bye! Good-bye!

Signe. Let us go out to the point and see the last of them!

All. Yes, yes! (All but TJAELDE and VALBORG hurry off to the right. )

Tjaelde (coming into the room). I saw Berent coming! (VALBORG goes outby the door on the right. TJAELDE comes forward, throws the napkins onto a table and himself into a chair. ) Oh--oh! But this must be the lasttime. --I shan't need this sort of thing any more! Never again! (Gets upwearily. ) Ah, I had forgotten. Berent!

[The Curtain falls. ]

[The interval between this scene and the next should be as short aspossible. ]

SCENE II

(SCENE. -TJAELDE'S private office. On the left, a desk strewn withledgers and papers. On the right, a stove. An easy chair by the stove. A table in the foreground to the right; on it an inkstand and pens. Twoarmchairs; one at the table facing the audience, the other at the sideof the table. Windows on either side of the desk; a door beyond thestove. A door in the background, leading to other offices. A bell-pullhangs down the wall. A chair on either side of the door. Quite at theback, on the left, a staircase leading direct to TJAELDE'S bedroom. BERENT and TJAELDE come in from the back. )

Tjaelde. You must excuse my receiving you here. But the other rooms areall upside down; we have had some people to dinner. 

Berent. I heard you had guests. 

Tjaelde. Yes, Mr. Lind from Christiana. 

Berent. Quite so. 

Tjaelde. Won't you sit down? (BERENT lays down his hat and coat on achair by the door. He comes slowly forward, sits down at the side of thetable, and takes some papers from his breast-pocket. TJAELDE sits downat the other chair by the table and watches him indifferently. )

Berent. What we now want is some fixed standard by which to make ourvaluations, especially of real estate. Have you any objection to ourmaking your business a basis for arriving at that?

Tjaelde. None at all. 

Berent. Then may I make my comments on your own figures, and ask you afew questions about them?

Tjaelde. By all means. 

Berent. Well, to begin with, let us take your properties immediatelyround here; they will give us the best idea of local values. Forinstance, take the Mjölstad forest; you have put that down, I see, at£16, 500. 

Tjaelde (indifferently). Have I?

Berent. You bought it for £10, 000. 

Tjaelde. Yes, four years ago. Timber prices ruled low then. 

Berent. And since then you have cut down more than £20, 000 worth oftimber there. 

Tjaelde. Who told you so?

Berent. Mr. Holst. 

Tjaelde. Holst knows nothing about it. 

Berent. We must try to be very accurate, you know. 

Tjaelde. Well, of course, the whole valuation is not my concern; butthose whom it does concern will protest. 

Berent (taking no notice of his objection). So I think we will reducethe £16, 500 to £10, 000. 

Tjaelde. To £10, 000! (Laughs. ) As you please. 

Berent. Calculating by the same standard, we can scarcely put down theStav forest at more than £4000. 

Tjaelde. Allow me to say that, if that is the way you are going to makeyour valuation, everybody in the place will have to go bankrupt!

Berent (with a smile). We will risk that. You have put down your wharfand its contents at £12, 000. 

Tjaelde. Including two ships in course of construction--

Berent. --for which it would be difficult to find a purchaser, as theyare so far from completion. 

Tjaelde. Indeed?

Berent. So I think we cannot put down the wharf and its contents at ahigher figure than £8, 000--and I believe even that will turn out to betoo high. 

Tjaelde. If you can find me another wharf as well stocked, and with theadvantages that this one has, I will buy it whenever you like for £8000;I am certain I should be more than £4000 to the good over the bargain. 

Berent. May I go on?

Tjaelde. If you like! I even feel a certain curiosity to view mypossessions under such an entirely new light. 

Berent. As a matter of fact the items that are too highly valued arejust those that comprise this property that you live on--its land, itsgardens, its dwelling houses, warehouses, and quays-not to mention thebrewery and the factory, which I shall come to later. Even regarded asbusiness premises they seem to me to be over-valued. 

Tjaelde. Well?

Berent, Moreover, the luxurious appointments of this house of yours, which would very probably be superfluous for any one else, cannotpossibly be counted upon to realise their full value in a sale. Suppose--as is indeed most likely--that it were a countryman that boughtthe place?

Tjaelde. You are reckoning me as turned out of it already, then!

Berent. I am obliged to base all my calculations on what the propertywould fetch if sold now. 

Tjaelde (getting up). What may you happen to value it at then?

Berent. At less than half your valuation; that is to say at--

Tjaelde. You must really forgive me if I use an expression which hasbeen on the tip of my tongue for some time: this is scandalous! Youforce yourself into a man's house, and then, under pretext of asking forhis opinion, you practically--on paper--rob him of his possessions!

Berent. I don't understand you. I am trying to arrive at a basis forvalues hereabouts; and you said yourself, did you not, that it is amatter that does not concern you alone?

Tjaelde. Certainly; but even in jest--if I may be allowed theexpression--one does not take the statement that an honourable man hasvoluntarily offered and treat it as a mendacious document. 

Berent. There are many different points of view from which valuationscan be made, obviously. I see nothing more in it than that. 

Tjaelde. But don't you understand that this is like cutting into myliving flesh? Bit by bit, my property has been brought together orcreated by my own work, and preserved by the most strenuous exertions onmy part under terribly trying conditions--it is bound up with my family, with all that is dear to me--it has become a part of my very life!

Berent (with a bow). I understand that perfectly. You have put down theBrewery at--

Tjaelde. No; I refuse to allow you to go on in this way. You must findsome one else's property as a basis for your calculations--you mustconsult some one else, whose idea of business corresponds somewhatcloser to your own ridiculous one. 

Berent (leaning back in his chair). That is a pity. The banks wereanxious to be acquainted with your answers to my observations. 

Tjaelde. Have you sent my statement to the banks?

Berent. With my remarks and comments on it, and Mr. Holst's. 

Tjaelde. This has been a trap, then? I believed I had to deal with agentleman!

Berent. The banks or I, what is the difference? It comes to the samething, as I represent them unreservedly. 

Tjaelde. Such impudent audacity is unpardonable!

Berent. I would suggest that we avoid hard words--at all events, forthe moment--and rather consider the effect that will be produced by thebalance-sheet sent in. 

Tjaelde. That some of us will see!

Berent. The banking house of Lind & Co. , for instance?

Tjaelde. Do you mean to say that my balance-sheet, ornamented withmarginal notes by you and Holst, is to be submitted to Mr. Lind's firmtoo?

Berent. When the cannon-salutes and noise of your festivitiesenlightened me as to the situation, I took the liberty of making someinquiries of the banks. 

Tjaelde. So you have been spying here, too? You have been trying toundermine my business connections?

Berent. Is your position such, then, that you are afraid?

Tjaelde. The question is not my position, but your behaviour!

Berent. I think we had better keep to the point. You have put down theBrewery at--

Tjaelde. No; your conduct is so absolutely underhanded that, as anhonest man, I must refuse all further dealing with you. I am, as I saidbefore, accustomed to have to deal with gentlemen. 

Berent. I think you misunderstand the situation. Your indebtedness tothe banks is so considerable that a settlement of it may reasonably berequired of you. But to effect that you must work with us in the matter. 

Tjaelde (after a moment's thought). Very well! But, no more details--letme know your conclusions, briefly. 

Berent. My conclusions, briefly, are that you have estimated your assetsat £90, 800. I estimate them at £40, 600. 

Tjaelde (quietly). That is to say, you make me out to have a deficit ofabout £30, 000?

Berent. As to that, I must point out that your estimate of yourliabilities does not agree with mine, either. 

Tjaelde (quietly). Oh, of course not!

Berent. For instance, the dividend that Möller's estate is to yield toyou. 

Tjaelde. No more details! What do you put my total liabilities at?

Berent. Let me see. Your total liabilities amount, according to yourcalculations, to £70, 000. I estimate them at £80, 000--to be precise, at£79, 372. 

Tjaelde. That puts my deficit at about--

Berent. At about £39, 400--or, in round figures, £40, 000. 

Tjaelde. Oh, by all means let us stick to round figures!

Berent. So that the difference between your views of your balance-sheetand mine is that, whereas you give yourself a surplus of about £20, 000, I give you a deficit of about £40, 000. 

Tjaelde. Thank you very much. --Do you know my opinion of the wholematter? (BERENT looks up at him. ) That I am in this room with a madman. 

Berent. I have had the same opinion for some time. --The stock of timberyou hold in France I have not been able to deal with; you have forgottento include it in your account. Perhaps it may make a little difference. 

Tjaelde. It is of no consequence! I have often enough heard people speakof your callousness and your heartlessness; but their account of you hascome nowhere near the truth. I don't know why I have not turned you outof my house long before this; but you will have the goodness to leave itnow!

Berent. We shall both leave presently. But before we do, we must discussthe question of handing over the house to the Receiver in Bankruptcy. 

Tjaelde. Ha, ha, ha! Allow me to inform you that at this very momenta sum is being telegraphed to me which will be sufficient not only tocover my present liabilities, but to set me straight in every direction!

Berent. The telegraph is a useful invention which is open to every one. 

Tjaelde (after a moment's thought). What do you mean by that?

Berent. One effect of the noise of your festivities was that I used thetelegraph also. Mr. Lind will receive, on board the boat, a telegramfrom his firm--and I doubt if the money you speak of will beforthcoming. 

Tjaelde. It is not true! You have not dared to do that!

Berent. The facts are exactly as I state. 

Tjaelde. Give me my balance-sheet; let me look at it again. (Stretchesout his hand to take it. )

Berent (taking it up). Excuse me!

Tjaelde. Do you presume to keep back my own balance-sheet in my ownwriting?

Berent. Yes, and even to put it in my pocket. (Does so. ) A fraudulentbalance-sheet, dated and signed, is a document of some importance. 

Tjaelde. You are determined to ruin my private and public reputation?

Berent. You have been working for that yourself for a long time. I knowyour position. For a month past I have been in correspondence with allthe quarters in which you have business connections, both here any Iabroad. 

Tjaelde. What underhanded deceitfulness an honest man is exposed to!Here have I been surrounded by spies for the last month! A plot betweenmy business acquaintances and the banks! A snake creeping into my houseand crawling over my accounts! But I will break up the conspiracy! Andyou will find out what it mean, to try and ruin a reputable firm byunderhand devices!

Berent. This is no time for fine phrases. Do you propose to surrenderyour property at once?

Tjaelde. Ha, ha! I am to surrender it because you have made me out abankrupt on your bit of paper!

Berent. You might conceal the facts for a month, I know. But for yourown sake, and especially for the sake of others, I would urgently adviseyou to end the matter at once. That was the reason of my journey here. 

Tjaelde. Ah, now the truth is out! And you came here pretending afriendly concern that the tangle should be straightened out! We were todistinguish between the sound and unsound firms, and you requested me, most politely, to give you my assistance in the matter!

Berent. Exactly. But there is no question of anything unsound hereexcept your own business and what is bound up with it. 

Tjaelde (when he has controlled himself). So you came into my house withthe hidden design of ruining me?

Berent. I must repeat that it is not I that am responsible for yourbankruptcy; it is yourself. 

Tjaelde. And I must repeat that my bankruptcy only exists in yourimagination! Much may happen in a month; and I have shown that I canfind a way out of difficulties before now!

Berent. That is to say, by involving yourself deeper and deeper infalsehood. 

Tjaelde. Only a man of business can understand such things. But, if youreally understand them, I would say to you: "Give me £20, 000 and I willsave the situation entirely. " That would be doing something worthy ofyour great powers; that would give you a reputation for penetrationin discerning the real state of affairs; because by so doing you wouldsafeguard the welfare of more than a thousand people, and ensure aprosperous future for the whole district!

Berent. I don't rise to that bait. 

Tjaelde (after a moment's reflection). Do you want me to explain to youhow £20, 000 would be sufficient to set the whole complicated situationstraight? Within three months remittances would be coming in. I can makeit its clear as daylight to you--

Berent. --that you would be falling from one disillusionment to another!That is what you have been doing for the last three years, from month tomonth. 

Tjaelde. Because the last three years have been bad years--horribleyears! But we have reached the crisis; things must begin to improve now!

Berent. That is what every defaulter thinks. 

Tjaelde. Do not drive me to despair! Have you any idea what I have gonethrough in these three years? Have you any idea what I am capable of?

Berent. Of still further falsehood. 

Tjaelde. Take care!--It is quite true that I am standing on the edge ofa precipice. It is true that for three years I have done everythingin mortal power to save the situation! I maintain that there has beensomething heroic in the fight I have made. And that deserves somereward. You have unrestricted powers; every one trusts you. Realisefor yourself what your mission is; do not let it be necessary for me toteach it you! Let me tell you this, emphatically: it will be a dreadfulthing for _you_ if hundreds of people are to be ruined unnecessarilynow!

Berent. Let us make an end of this. 

Tjaelde. No, devil take me if I give up a fight like this with asenseless surrender!

Berent. How do you propose to end it, then?

Tjaelde. There is no issue to it that I have not turned over in mythoughts--thousands of times. _I_ know what I shall do! I won't be amark for the jeers of this wretched little town, nor triumphed over bythose who have envied me all round the countryside!

Berent. What will you do, then?

Tjaelde. You shall see! (Speaking more and more excitedly. ) You won'thelp me under any conditions?

Berent. No. 

Tjaelde. You insist that I shall surrender my estate, here and now?

Berent. Yes. 

Tjaelde. Hell and damnation! You dare do that?

Berent. Yes. 

Tjaelde (his agitation robbing him of his voice, which all at once sinksto a hoarse whisper). You have never known what despair is!--You don'tknow what an existence I have endured!-But if the decisive moment hascome, and I have a man here in my office who _ought_ to save me but willnot, then that man shall share what is in store for me. 

Berent (leaning back in his chair). This is beginning to be impressive. 

Tjaelde. No more jesting; you might regret it! (Goes to all the doorsand locks them with a key which he takes out of his pocket; then unlockshis desk, and takes a revolver out of it. ) How long do you suppose Ihave had this in here?

Berent. Since you bought it, I suppose. 

Tjaelde. And why do you suppose I bought it?--Do you suppose that afterI have been master of this town and the biggest man in the district, Iwould endure the disgrace of bankruptcy?

Berent. You have been enduring it for a long time. 

Tjaelde. It is in your power now either to ruin me or to wave me. Youhave behaved in such a way that you deserve no mercy--and you shall havenone! Report to the banks that they may give me the use of £14, 000 fora year--I need no more than that--and I will save the situation for goodand all. Think seriously, now! Remember my family, remember how long myfirm has been established, remember the numbers that would be ruined ifI were! And do not forget to think of your own family! Because, if you_don't_ agree to what I ask, neither of us shall leave this room alive!

Berent (pointing to the revolver). Is it loaded?

Tjaelde (putting his finger on the trigger). You will find that out ingood time. You must answer me now!

Berent. I have a suggestion to make. Shoot yourself first and meafterwards. 

Tjaelde (going up to him and holding the revolver to his head). I willsoon quiet your pretty wit. 

Berent (getting up, and taking out of his pocket a paper which heunfolds). This is a formal surrender of your estate to the Receiverin Bankruptcy. If you sign it, you will be doing your duty to yourcreditors, to your family, and to yourself. Shooting yourself and mewould only be adding an acted lie to all your others. Put away yourrevolver and take up your pen!

Tjaelde. Never! I had resolved on this long ago. But you shall keep mecompany, now!

Berent. Do what you please. But you cannot threaten me into a falsehood. 

Tjaelde (who has lowered the revolver, takes a step back, raises therevolver and aims at BERENT). Very well!

Berent (walking up to TJAELDE and looking him straight in the eyes, while the latter reluctantly lowers the revolver). Do you suppose Idon't know that a man who has for so long shivered with falsehood andterror in his inmost heart has lots of schemes but no courage? You_dare_ not do it!

Tjaelde (furiously). I will show you! (Steps back and raises therevolver again. )

Berent (following him). Shoot, and you will hear a report--that is whatyou are longing for, I suppose! Or, give up your plan of shooting, thinkof what you have done, confess, and afterwards hold your tongue!

Tjaelde. No; may the devil take both you and me--

Berent. And the horse?

Tjaelde. The horse?

Berent. I mean the magnificent charger on which you came galloping homefrom the sale of Möller's estate. You had better let some one shootyou on horseback--on what was your last and greatest piece of businessduplicity! (Goes nearer to him and speaks more quietly. ) Or--stripyourself of the tissue of lies which enfolds you, and your bankruptcywill bring you more blessing than your riches have ever done. (TJAELDElets the revolver drop out of his hand, and sinks into a chair in anoutburst of tears. There is silence for a moment. ) You have made anamazing fight of it for these last three years. I do not believe I knowany one who could have done what you have done. But you have lost thefight this time. Do not shrink now from a final settlement and the painthat it must cost you. Nothing else will cleanse your soul for you. 

Tjaelde (weeping unrestrainedly, with his face buried in his hands). Oh, oh!

Berent. You have blamed me for my method of proceeding in the matter. My answer to that is that I forgive you for yours. (A pause. ) Try now tolook the situation in the face, and take it like a man. 

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent. At the bottom of your heart you must be weary of it all; make anend of it all now!

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent (sitting down beside him, after a moment's pause). Wouldn't youlike to feel your conscience clear again--to be able really to live withyour wife and children? Because I am sure you have not done that formany a day. 

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent. I have known many speculators in my time and have receivedmany confessions. So I know what you have been robbed of for threeyears--never a good night's rest, never a meal eaten with a light heart. You have scarcely been conscious of what your children were doing orsaying, except when accident brought you together. And your wife--

Tjaelde. My wife!

Berent. Yes, she has slaved hard enough to prepare these banquets thatwere to conceal the nakedness of the land. Indeed, she has been thehardest worked servant in your house. 

Tjaelde. My patient, good wife!

Berent. I feel certain you would rather be the humblest labourer earningyour daily bread than live through such suffering again. 

Tjaelde. A thousand times rather!

Berent. Then can you hesitate to do what will give every man his due, and bring you back to truthfulness again? Take the paper and sign it!

Tjaelde (falling on his knees). Mercy, mercy! You do not know what youare asking me. My own children will curse me. I have just heard of achild doing that to her father! And my business friends, who will beruined with me--numbers of them--think of their families! Oh! What is tobecome of my work-people? Do you know there are more than fourhundred of them? Think of them and their families, robbed of theirlivelihood!--Be merciful! I cannot, I dare not, do it! Save me, help me!It was horrible of me to try and threaten you; but now I implore you, for the sake of all those that deserve more than I, but to whom I shalldevote the rest of my life in loyal work!

Berent. I cannot save you, least of all with money that belongs toothers. What you ask me to do would be disloyalty to them. 

Tjaelde. No, no! Publish my accounts openly--put me under trustees, ifyou like; but let me go on with the scheme that I believe will succeed!Every clear-headed man will see that it must succeed!

Berent. Come and sit down. Let us discuss it. (TJAELDE sits down. ) Isn'twhat you are now proposing exactly what you have been trying to do forthe last three years? You _have_ been able to borrow the means; but whatgood has it done?

Tjaelde. Times have been so bad!

Berent (shaking his head). You have mixed up falsehood and truth for solong that you have forgotten the simplest laws of commerce. To speculateduring bad times, on the chance of their becoming better, is all verywell for those who can afford it. Others must leave such things alone. 

Tjaelde. But it is to the advantage of my creditors themselves, and ofthe banks too, that my estate should hold together!

Berent. It is of no advantage to sound firms to prop up unsound ones. 

Tjaelde. But, surely, to avoid losing their capital--?

Berent, Oh, perhaps in the Receiver's hands the estate may--

Tjaelde (hopefully, half rising from his chair). Yes? Well?

Berent. But not till you have been removed from the control of it. 

Tjaelde (sinking down again). Not till I have been removed from thecontrol of it!

Berent. On _its own_ resources I dare say the estate can hold out untilbetter times come, but not on borrowed money. 

Tjaelde. Not on borrowed money--

Berent. You understand the difference, of course?

Tjaelde. Oh, yes. 

Berent. Good. Then you must understand that there is nothing left foryou to do but to sign this. 

Tjaelde. Nothing left but to sign--

Berent. Here is the paper. Come, now!

Tjaelde (rousing himself). Oh, I cannot, I cannot!

Berent. Very well. But in that case the crash will come of itself in ashort time, and everything will be worse than it is now. 

Tjaelde (falling on his knees). Mercy, mercy! I cannot let go of allhope! Think, after a fight like mine!

Berent. Tell the truth and say: "I haven't the courage to face theconsequences. "

Tjaelde. Yes, that is the truth. 

Berent. "I haven't the courage to begin an honest life. "

Tjaelde. Yes. 

Berent. You don't know what you are saying, man!

Tjaelde. No, I don't. But spare me!

Berent (getting up). This is nothing but despair! I am sorry for you. 

Tjaelde (getting up). Yes, surely you must be? Try me! Ask me to doanything you like! Tell me what you--

Berent. No, no! Before anything else, you must sign this. 

Tjaelde (sinking back into his chair). Oh!--How shall I ever dare tolook any one in the face again?--I, who, have defied everything anddeceived every one!

Berent. The man who has enjoyed the respect which he did not deservemust some day undergo the humiliation which he has deserved. That is alaw; and I cannot save you from that. 

Tjaelde. But they will be crueller to me than to any one else! I deserveit, I know; but I shall not be able to endure it!

Berent. Hm! You are remarkably tough; your fight, these last threeyears, proves that. 

Tjaelde. Be merciful! Surely your ingenuity--your influence--_must_ beable to find some way out for me?

Berent. Yes. The way out is for you to sign this. 

Tjaelde. Won't you even take it over from me by private contract? If youdid that, everything would come right. 

Berent. Sign! Here is the paper! Every hour is precious. 

Tjaelde. Oh! (Takes up a pen; but turns to BERENT with a gesture ofsupplication. ) Daren't you test me, after what I have just gone through?

Berent. Yes, when you have signed. (TJAELDE signs the paper, and sinksback in his chair with an expression of the keenest anguish. BERENTtakes the paper, folds it, and puts it in his pocket-book. ) Now I willgo to the Bankruptcy Court with this, and afterwards to the telegraphoffice. Probably the officials of the court will come this evening tomake their inventory. So you ought to warn your family. 

Tjaelde. How shall I be able to do that? Give me a little time! Bemerciful!

Berent. The sooner the better for you--not to speak of the interests ofall concerned. Well, I have finished for the present. 

Tjaelde. Don't desert me like this! Don't desert me!

Berent. You would like your wife to come to you, wouldn't you?

Tjaelde (resignedly). Yes. 

Berent (taking up the revolver). And this--I will not take it with me. There is no danger from it now. But I will put it in the desk, for thesake of the others. Now, if you or yours should need me, send word tome. 

Tjaelde. Thank you. 

Berent. I shall not leave the town until the worst is over. --Remember, night or day, if you need me, send word to me. 

Tjaelde. Thank you. 

Berent. And now will you unlock the door for me?

Tjaelde (getting up). Ah, of course. Excuse me!

Berent (taking his hat and coat). Won't you call your wife now?

Tjaelde. No. I must have a little time first. I have the worst part ofit before me now. 

Berent. I believe you have, and that is just why--. (Takes hold of thebell-pull and rings the bell. )

Tjaelde. What are you doing?

Berent. I want, before I go, to be sure of your wife's coming to you. 

Tjaelde. You should not have done that! (An office-boy comes in. BERENTlooks at TJAELDE. ) Ask your mistress--ask my wife to come to me. 

Berent. At once, please. (The boy goes out. ) Good-bye! (Goes out. TJAELDE sinks down on to a chair by the door. )

[The Curtain falls. ]

ACT III

(SCENE. -The same as in the preceding act. TJAELDE is sitting alone, onthe chair by the door, in the position he was in when the curtain fellon the last act. After sitting motionless for a considerable time, hesuddenly gets up. )

Tjaelde. How am I to begin? After her, there are the children; afterthem, all my work-people--and then all the others! If only I could getaway! But the Receiver's men will be here. --I must have some air! (Goesto the nearest window. ) What a beautiful day!--but not for me. (Opensthe window and looks out. ) My horse! No, I daren't look at it. Why is itsaddled? Oh, of course I meant, after my talk with Berent, to--. Butnow everything is different! (Walks up and down once or twice, thinking;then says suddenly:) Yes, on that horse I might reach the outer harbourbefore the foreign boat sails! (Looks at his watch. ) I can do it! And Ishall be able to put behind me all--. (Stops, with a start, as he hearsfootsteps on the stair. ) Who is there? What is it? (MRS. TJAELDE comesdown the stair into the room. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. You sent for me?

Tjaelde. Yes. (Watching her. ) Were you upstairs?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, I was resting. 

Tjaelde (sympathetically). Ah, you were sleeping, and I woke you up!

Mrs. Tjaelde. No, I was not asleep. (She has come slowly forward. )

Tjaelde. You weren't asleep? (Apprehensively, to her. ) I suppose youdidn't--? (To himself. ) No, I daren't ask her. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. What did you want?

Tjaelde. I wanted--. (Sees her eyes fixed on the revolver. ) You aresurprised at my having that out? I got it out because I am going on ajourney. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (supporting herself on the desk). Going on a journey?

Tjaelde. Yes. Mr. Berent has been here, as I dare say you know. (Shedoes not answer. ) Business, you know. I have to go abroad. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (faintly). Abroad?

Tjaelde. Only for a few days. So I will only take my usual bag with achange of clothes and one or two shirts; but I must have it at once. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I don't think your bag has been unpacked since you broughtit home to-day. 

Tjaelde. So much the better. Will you get it for me?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Are you going away now--at once?

Tjaelde. Yes, by the foreign boat--from the outer harbour. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You have no time to lose, then. 

Tjaelde. Are you not well?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Not very. 

Tiwlde. One of your attacks?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes!--but I must fetch your bag. (TJAELDE helps her overto the staircase. )

Tjaelde. You are not well, my dear--but you will be better some day. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I only wish _you_ looked better. 

Tjaelde. We all have our burdens to bear. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. If only we could bear more together!

Tjaelde. But you don't understand my affairs--and I have never had timeto talk about yours. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. No--that's it. (Begins to go upstairs slowly. )

Tjaelde. Shall I help you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. No, thank you, dear. 

Tjaelde (coming forward). Does she suspect? She is always like that--shetakes all my courage away from me. But there is no other way! Now--aboutmoney? I surely have some gold here somewhere. (Goes to his desk, takessome gold out of a drawer and counts it; then lifts his head and seesMRS. TJAELDE who has sat down on the stair half-way up. ) My dear, areyou sitting down?

Mrs. Tjaelde. I felt faint for a moment. I will go up now. (Gets up andclimbs the stair slowly. )

Tjaelde. Poor thing, she is worn out. (Pulls himself together. )No--five, six, eight, ten--that is not enough. I must have some more. (Searches in the desk. ) And when I run short I have my watch and chain. Twenty, twenty-four--that is all I can find. Ah, my papers! I must onno account forget them. The ground is falling away under me! Isn't shecoming back? The bag was packed, surely?--Ah, how all this will make hersuffer! But it will not be so bad for her if I am away. People will bemore merciful, both to her and the children. Oh, my children! (Collectshimself. ) Only let me get away, away! Thoughts will follow me there, allthe same!--Ah, here she is! (MRS. TJAELDE is seen coming down slowly, with a bag which is evidently, heavy. ) Shall I help you, dear?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Thanks, will you take hold of the bag?

Tjaelde (takes it; she comes slowly down). It is heavier than it wasthis morning. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Is it?

Tjaelde. I have some papers to put in it. (Opens the bag. ) But, my dear, there is money in this bag. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes--some gold that you have given me at odd times. Ithought it might be useful to you now. 

Tjaelde. There is a large sum. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I don't believe you even know how much you have given me. 

Tjaelde. She knows everything!--My dear! (Opens his arms. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Henning! (They both burst into tears and fall into eachother's arms. MRS. TJAELDE whispers to him:) Shall I call the children?

Tjaelde (in a whisper). No, say nothing--till later! (They embraceagain. He takes up the bag. ) Go to the window, so that I can see youwhen I mount. (Shuts the bag and hurries to the door, but stops. ) Mydear!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes?

Tjaelde. Forgive me!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Everything! (TJAELDE, as he is hurrying out, meets in thedoorway an office-boy who is bringing him a letter. TJAELDE takes it, and the boy goes out. )

Tjaelde. From Berent! (Opens the letter, stands in the doorway and readsit; then comes back into the room, with his bag in his hand, and readsit again. ) "When I left your house, I saw a horse standing saddled atyour door. To prevent misunderstanding, let me inform you that yourhouse is watched by the police. "

Mrs. Tjaelde (supporting herself on the desk). You can't go?

Tjaelde. No. (A pause. He puts down the bag and wipes his forehead. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Henning, shall we pray together?

Tjaelde. What do you mean?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Pray--pray to God to help us? (Bursts into tears. TJAELDEis silent. She falls on her knees. ) Come, Henning! You see that allhuman ingenuity is of no avail!

Tjaelde. I know that, only too well. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Well, try once, in this hour of our greatest need!(TJAELDE appears to be struggling with his emotion. ) You never would!You have never confided in us, or in your God!--never opened your heartto any one!

Tjaelde. Be quiet!

Mrs. Tjaelde. But what you concealed by day, you used to talk of inthe night. We mortals must talk, you know! But I have lain awake andlistened to your distress. Now you know why I am no longer good foranything. No sleep at night, and none of your confidence in the daytime. I have suffered even more than you. (TJAELDE throws himself into achair. She goes to him. ) You wanted to run away. When we are afraid ofour fellow-men, we have only Him to turn to. Do you think I should bealive now, if it were not for Him?

Tjaelde. I have thrown myself imploringly at His feet, but always invain!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Henning, Henning!

Tjaelde. Why did He not bless my work and the fight I was making? It isall one now. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Ah, there is more to come. 

Tjaelde (getting up). Yes, the worst is before us now--

Mrs. Tjaelde. --because it is in our own hearts! (A pause. VALBORGappears coming down the stair, but stops at the sight of the others. )What do you want, dear?

Valborg (with suppressed emotion). From my room I can see the policewatching the house. Are the Receiver's men coming now?

Mrs. Tjaelde (sitting down). Yes, my child. After a terriblestruggle--how terrible, his God and I alone know--your father has justsent in his declaration of bankruptcy. (VALBORG takes a step or twoforward, then stands still. A pause. )

Tjaelde (unable to control himself). Now I suppose you will say to mejust what Möller's daughter said to him!

Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up). You won't do that, Valborg!--God alone canjudge him. 

Tjaelde. Tell me how cruelly I have wronged you! Tell me that you willnever be able to forgive me--(breaking down)--that I have lost yourrespect and your love for ever!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, my child!

Tjaelde. That your anger and your shame know no bounds!

Valborg. Oh, father, father! (Goes out by the door at the back. TJAELDEtries to cross the room, as if to follow her, but can only stagger asfar as the staircase, to which he clings for support. MRS. TJAELDE sinksback into her chair. There is a long pause. Suddenly JAKOBSEN cones infrom the outer once, dressed as before except that he has changed hiscoat. TJAELDE is not aware of his entrance until JAKOBSEN is closeto him; then he stretches out his hands to him as if in entreaty, butJAKOBSEN goes right up to him and speaks in a voice choked with rage. )

Jakobsen. You scoundrel! (TJAELDE recoils. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Jakobsen! Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (without heeding her). The Receiver's men are here. The booksand papers at the Brewery have been seized. Work is at a standstill--andthe same thing at the factory. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. My God!

Jakobsen. And I had made myself responsible for twice as much asI possessed! (He speaks low, but his voice vibrates with anger andemotion. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Dear Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (turning to her). Didn't I say to him, every time he told meto sign, "But I don't possess as much as that! It's not right!"--But heused to answer, "It is only a matter of form, Jakobsen. " "Yes, butnot an honourable form, " I used to say. "It is a matter of form inbusiness, " he would say; "all business folk do it. " And all I knew ofbusiness, I had learnt from him; so I trusted him. (With emotion. ) Andhe made me do it time after time. And now I owe more than I shall everbe able to pay, all my life. I shall live and die a dishonoured man. What have you to say to that, Mrs. Tjaelde? (She does not answer him. Heturns angrily upon TJAELDE. ) Do you hear? Even _she_ can find nothing tosay!--Scoundrel!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (in a voice broken with emotion). I have nothing but thedeepest respect for you, Mrs. Tjaelde. But, you see, he has made meswindle other people! In his name I shall have ruined numbers of them. They trusted me, you see; just as I trusted him. I used to tell themthat he was a benefactor to the whole countryside, and that thereforethey ought to help him in these hard times. And now there will be manyan honest family robbed of house and home by our treachery. And that iswhat he has brought me to! What heartless cruelty! (To TJAELDE. ) I cantell I feel inclined to--. (Takes a threatening step towards him. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up). For my sake, Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (restraining himself). Yes, for your sake, ma'am; because Ihave the deepest respect for you. But how am I to face all those poorcreatures that I have ruined? It will do them no good to explain to themhow it has happened; that won't help them to get their daily bread! Howshall I face my own wife! (With emotion. ) She has had such faith inme, and in those I trusted. And my children, too? It is very hard onchildren, because they hear so much talk in the street. It won't be longbefore they hear what sort of a father they have got; and they will hearit from the children of the men I have ruined. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. As you feel how hard it is yourself, that should make youwilling to spare others. Be merciful!

Jakobsen. I have the deepest respect for you; but it is hard that in myhome we should never again be able to eat a crust that we can properlycall our own--for I owe more than I can ever live to repay! That ishard, Mrs. Tjaelde! What will become of my evenings with my childrennow?--of our Sundays together? No, I mean that he shall hear the truthfrom me. (Turns upon TJAELDE. ) You scoundrel! You shan't escape me!(TJAELDE shrinks back in terror and tries to reach the office door, butat that moment the RECEIVER comes in, followed by two of his clerks andSANNAES. TJAELDE crosses the room, staggers to his desk, and leans uponit with his back turned to the newcomers. )

The Receiver (coming up behind Tjaelde). Excuse me! May I have yourbooks and papers? (TJAELDE gives a start, moves away to the stove, andsupports himself on it. )

Jakobsen (in a whisper, standing over him). Scoundrel! (TJAELDE movesaway from him and sits down on a chair by the door, hiding his face inhis hands. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up and whispering to JAKOBSEN), Jakobsen!Jakobsen! (He comes towards her. ) He has never deliberately cheatedany one! He has never been what you say, and never will be! (Sits downagain. )

Jakobsen. I have the deepest respect for _you_, Mrs. Tjaelde. But if_he_ is not a liar and swindler, there is no truth in anything! (Burstsinto tears. MRS. TJAELDE hides her face in her hands as she leans backin her chair. A short silence. Then a confused noise of voices isheard without. The RECEIVER and his men stop their work of sorting andinventorying papers, and all look up. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (apprehensively). What is that? (SANNAES and the RECEIVERgo to one window, and JAKOBSEN to another. )

Jakobsen. It's the hands from the quay and the brewery and the factoryand the warehouse. All work is stopped until further orders; but this ispay-day--and there is no pay for them! (The others resume their work. )

Tjaelde (coming forward despairingly). I had forgotten that!

Jakobsen (going up to him). Well, go out and face them, and they willlet you know what you are!

Tjaelde (in a low voice, as he takes up his saddle-bag). Here is money, but it is all in gold. Go into the town and get it changed, and paythem!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, do, Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (in lower tones). If _you_ ask me to, ma'am, I--So there ismoney in this bag? (Opens it. ) And all done up in rolls. He meant tobolt, then!--and with the money his people had lent him. And yet yousay he is not a scoundrel! (TJAELDE gives a groan. The noise of voiceswithout grows louder. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (in a low voice). Be quick, or we shall have them in here. 

Jakobsen. I will go. 

The Receiver (interposing). Excuse me, but nothing must be taken awayfrom here until it has been examined and inventoried. 

Jakobsen. It is pay-day, and this is the money for the wages. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Jakobsen is responsible for it, and will account for it. 

The Receiver. Oh, that alters the case. Mr. Jakobsen is a man ofintegrity. (Goes back to his work. )

Jakobsen (to MRS. TJAELDE, in a low voice full of emotion). Did you hearthat, Mrs. Tjaelde? He called me a man of integrity--and very soon nota single soul will call me that! (Goes out past TJAELDE to whom hewhispers as he passes:) Scoundrel! I shall come back again!

The Receiver (going up to TJAELDE). Excuse me, but I must ask you forthe keys of your private rooms and cupboards. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (answering for her husband). My housekeeper shall go withyou. Sannaes, here is the key of the cupboard. (SANNAES takes it fromher. )

The Receiver (looking at TJAELDE'S massive watch-chain). Whateverarticle of dress can be called a necessary, we have nothing to do with;but if it happens that it comrises jewellery of any great value--. (TJAELDE begins to take off the watch-chain. ) No, no; keep it on. But itwill have to be included in the inventory. 

Tjaelde. I don't wish to keep it. 

The Receiver. As you please. (Signs to one of his clerks to take it. )Good-day! (Meanwhile SIGNE and HAMAR have appeared at the door of theouter office, and have seen what passed. The RECEIVER, SANNAES, and theclerks try to open the door on the right, but find it locked. ) This dooris locked. 

Tjaelde (as if waking from a dream). Ah, of course! (Goes to the doorand unlocks it. )

Signe (rushing to MRS. TJAELDE and falling on her knees beside her). Mother!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, dear, the day of our trial has come! And I amafraid--afraid that it may find us all too weak. 

Signe. Mother, what is to become of us?

Mrs. Tjaelde. We are in God's hands. 

Signe. I will go with Hamar to his aunt's. We will go at once. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. It is possible that his aunt may not be willing to haveyou now. 

Signe. Aunt Ulla! What do you mean?

Mrs. Tjaelde. I mean that you have been the rich man's daughter; and youdo not know what the world is. 

Signe. Hamar, do you think Aunt Ulla would refuse to have me?

Hamar (after a moment's thought). I don't know. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You hear that, my child. In the next few hours you willlearn more than you have learnt in all your life. 

Signe (in a horrified whisper). Do you mean that even--?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Hush! (SIGNE hides her face in her mother's lap. A loudburst of laughter is heard outside. )

Hamar (going to the nearest window). What is that? (SANNAES comes inthrough the right-hand door and goes to the other window. TJAELDE, SIGNEand MRS. TJAELDE get up. ) The bay horse! They have got hold of it. 

Sannaes. They have led it up the steps, and are pretending to sell it byauction. 

Hamar. They are ill-treating it! (SANNAES runs out. HAMAR snatches upthe revolver from the desk and looks to see if it is loaded. ) I will--!

Signe. What are you going to do? (As he starts to go out, she clings tohim and prevents him. )

Hamar. Let me go!

Signe. Tell me first what you are going to do! Do you mean to go outamong all those men--alone?

Hamar. Yes. 

Signe (throwing her arms round him). You shan't go!

Hamar. Take care, this is loaded!

Signe. What are you going to do with it?

Hamar (in a determined voice, as he shakes himself free of her). Put abullet into the poor beast! It is too good for that crew. It shan't beput up for auction, either in joke or in earnest! (Goes to the fartherwindow. ) I shall get a better aim from here. 

Signe (following him, with a cry). You will hit some one!

Hamar. No, I can aim too well for that. (Takes aim. )

Signe. Father! If they hear a shot from here now--

Tjaelde (starting up). The house belongs to my creditors now--and therevolver too!

Hamar. No, I am past taking orders from you now! (TJAELDE snatches atthe revolver, which goes off. SIGNE screams and rushes to her mother. Outside, but this time immediately below the window, two cries areheard: "They are shooting at us! They are shooting at us!" Then thenoise of breaking glass is heard, and stones fly in through the windows, followed by shouts and ribald laughter. VALBORG, who has rushed in fromthe outer office, stands in front of her father to protect him, her faceturned to the window. A voice is heard: "Follow me, my lads!")

Hamar (pointing the revolver at the window). Yes, just you try it!

Mrs. Tjaelde and Signe. They are coming in here!

Valborg. You shan't shoot! (Stands between him and the window. )

Tjaelde. It is Sannaes with the police! (Cries of "Get back, there!" areheard; then a renewed uproar and a loud voice gradually dominating it;until at last the noise gradually lessens and ceases. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Thank God! We were in great danger. (Sinks into a chair. A pause. ) Henning, where are you? (TJAELDE comes up behind her, andstrokes her head with his hand, but turns away immediately to hide hisdeep emotion. A pause. )

Signe (on her knees by her mother's side). But won't they come back?Hadn't we better go away from here?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Where to?

Signe (despairingly). What is to become of us?

Mrs. Tjaelde. What God wills. (A pause. Meanwhile HAMAR, unobserved, has laid down the revolver on a chair and slipped out of the room by thedoor at the back. )

Valborg (softly). Signe, look! (SIGNE gets up, looks round the room, andgives a little cry. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. What is it?

Signe. I knew he would!

Mrs. Tjaelde (apprehensively). What is it?

Valborg. Every rich family has its tame lieutenant--and ours has justleft us. That's all. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up). Signe, my child!

Signe (throwing herself into her arms). Mother!

Mrs. Tjaelde. There will be no more pretence now. Do not let us regretit!

Signe (in tears). Mother, mother!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Things are better as they are. Do you hear, dear? Don'tcry!

Signe. I am not crying! but I feel so ashamed--oh, so ashamed!

Mrs. Tjaelde. It is I that ought to feel ashamed for never having hadthe courage to put a stop to what I saw was folly. 

Signe (as before). Mother!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Soon there will be no one else left to desert us; and weshall have nothing left that any one can rob us of, either. 

Valborg (comes forward evidently labouring under great emotion). Yes, there is, mother; _I_ mean to desert you. 

Signe. You, Valborg? Desert us? You?

Valborg. Our home is going to be broken up, anyway. Each of us ought toshift for herself. 

Signe. But what am I to do? I don't know how to do anything. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (who has sunk back into her chair). What a bad mother Imust have been, not to be able to keep my children together now!

Valborg (impetuously). You know we cannot stay together now! You know wecannot put up with living on the charity of our creditors; we have donethat too long!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Hush, remember your father is in the room. (A pause. ) Whatdo you want to do, Valborg?

Valborg (after she has regained her self-control, quietly). I want to gointo Mr. Holst's office, and learn commercial work--and keep myself. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You don't know what you are undertaking. 

Valborg. But I know what I am leaving. 

Signe. And I shall only be a burden to you, mother, because I can't doanything--

Valborg. You _can_! Go out and earn a living; even if it is only as aservant, what does that matter? Don't live on our creditors--not for aday, not for an hour!

Signe. And what is to become of mother, then?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Your mother will stay with your father. 

Signe. But all alone? You, who are so ill?

Mrs. Tjaelde. No, not alone! Your father and I will be together. (TJAELDE comes forward, kisses the hand she has stretched out to him, and falls on his knees by her chair, burying his face in her lap. Shestrokes his hair gently. ) Forgive your father, children. That is thefinest thing you can do. (TJAELDE gets up again and goes back to theother end of the room. A messenger comes in with a letter. )

Signe (turning round anxiously). It is a letter from him! I can't standany more! I won't have it! (The messenger hands the letter to TJAELDE. )

Tjaelde. I accept no more letters. 

Valborg (looking at the letter). It is from Sannaes?

Tjaelde. He, too!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Take it and read it, Valborg. Let us get it all over atonce. (VALBORG takes the letter from the messenger, who goes out. Sheopens the letter, looks at it, and then reads it with emotion. ) "Sir, --Ihave owed you everything since I entered your employment as a boy. Therefore do not take what I am going to say amiss. You know that abouteight years ago I came into a little legacy. I have used the money tosome advantage, having especially looked out for such investments aswould not be affected by the uncertainties of high finance. The totalsum, which now amounts to about £1400, I beg to offer to you as a tokenof respectful gratitude; because, in the end, I owe it to you that Ihave been able to make it that sum. Besides, you will be able to makemany times better use of it than I could. If you need me, my dearestwish is to remain with you in the future. Forgive me for having seizedjust this moment for doing this; I could not do otherwise. --Yourobedient servant, J. SANNAES. " (While VALBORG has been reading, TJAELDEhas come gradually forward, and is now standing beside his wife. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Though out of all those you have helped, Henning, only onecomes to your aid at a time like this, you must feel that you have yourreward. (TJAELDE nods, and goes to the back of the room again. ) And you, children--do you see how loyally this man, a stranger, is standing byyour father? (A pause. SIGNE stands by the desk, crying. TJAELDE walksup and down uneasily at the back of the room once or twice, then goes upthe staircase. )

Valborg. I should like to speak to Sannaes. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, do, dear! I couldn't, just now; and I am sure yourfather couldn't either. You speak to him! (Gets up. ) Come, Signe, youand I must have a talk; you must open your heart to me now. --Ah, whenhave we ever had a real talk together? (SIGNE goes to her. ) Where isyour father?

Valborg. He went upstairs. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (leaning on SIGNE's arm). So he did. I am sure he must belonging to rest--although he won't find it easy to do that. It has beena terrible day; but surely God will turn it to our good! (Goes outwith SIGNE. VALBORG goes to the back of the room and rings the bell. Amessenger comes. )

Valborg. If Mr. Sannaes is out there, please ask him to be so good asto come in here for a moment. (The messenger goes out. ) Perhaps he won'tcome, when he hears it is I. (Listens. ) Yes, he is coming!

(SANNAES comes in, but stops short when he sees VALBORG, and hurriedlyputs his hands behind his back. )

Sannaes. Is it you, Miss Valborg, that want me?

Valborg. Please come in. (SANNAES takes a few timid steps forward. VALBORG speaks in a more friendly tone. ) Come in, then! (SANNAES comesfurther into the room. )

Valborg. You have written a letter to my father. 

Sannaes (after a moment's pause). Yes. 

Valborg. And made him a most generous offer. 

Sannaes (as before). Oh, well--it was only natural that I should. 

Valborg. Do you think so? It doesn't seem so to me. It is an offer thathonours the man that made it. (A pause. )

Sannaes. I hope he means to accept it?

Valborg. I don't know. 

Sannaes (sadly, after a moment's pause). Then he doesn't mean to? No--Isuppose not. 

Valborg. I honestly don't know. It depends on whether he dare. 

Sannaes. Whether he dare?

Valborg. Yes. (A pause. )

Sannaes (evidently very shy of VALBORG). Have you any more orders forme, Miss Valborg?

Valborg (with a smile). Orders? I am not giving you orders. --You haveoffered also to stay with my father for the future. 

Sannaes. Yes--that is to say, if he wishes me to. 

Valborg. I don't know. In that case there would be only he and my motherand you; no one else. 

Sannaes. Indeed? What about the others, then?

Valborg. I don't know for certain what my sister means to do--but I amleaving home to-day. 

Sannaes. Then you are going to--

Valborg. --to try and get a clerkship somewhere. So that it will be a bitlonely for you to be in my father's employment now. (A pause. ) I expectyou had not thought of it in that light?

Sannaes. No--yes--that is to say, your father will have all the moreneed of me then. 

Valborg. Indeed he will. But what sort of a prospect is it for youto bind up your fortunes with my father's? The future is so veryproblematical, you know. 

Sannaes. What sort of a prospect--?

Valborg. Yes, a young man should have some sort of a prospect beforehim. 

Sannaes. Yes--of course; that is to say, I only thought that at first itwould be so difficult for him. 

Valborg. But I am thinking of you. Surely you have some plans for thefuture?

Sannaes (embarrassed). Really I would rather not talk about myself. 

Valborg. But I want to. --You have something else in reserve, then?

Sannaes. Well--if I must tell you--I have some well-to-do relations inAmerica who have for a long time wanted me to go over there. I shouldsoon be able to get, a good situation there. 

Valborg. Indeed?--But why haven't you accepted such a good offer longbefore this? (SANNAES does not answer. ) You must have been sacrificingyour best interests by staying so long with us? (SANNAES is stillsilent. ) Any! it will be making a still greater sacrifice to stay withus now--

Sannaes (struggling with his embarrassment). I have never thought of itas being that. 

Valborg. But my father can scarcely accept so much from you. 

Sannaes (in alarm). Why not?

Valborg. Because it really would be too much. --And, in any case, I shalltry to prevent him. 

Sannaes (almost imploringly). You, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. Yes. You must not be misemployed any longer. 

Sannaes. Misemployed? In what I _myself_ desire so much?

Valborg. When I have talked it over with my father, I think he will seemy point. 

Sannaes (anxiously). What do you mean?

Valborg (after a moment's reflection). --I mean, the reason of yourhaving made such great sacrifices for us--and of your being willing tomake still greater now. (A pause. SANNAES hangs his head, and is raisinghis hands to hide his face, when suddenly he puts them behind his backagain. VALBORG continues, in gentle but firm tones:) I have taughtmyself, all my life, to look behind deeds and words for their motives. 

Sannaes (quietly, without raising his head). You have taught yourself tobe cruelly bitter, hard and unjust. 

Valborg (starts, but collects herself, and says gently:) Don't say that, Mr. Sannaes! It is not hard-heartedness or bitterness that makes methink of your future now--and makes me wish to spare you disappointment. 

Sannaes (with a cry of pain). Miss Valborg!

Valborg. Be honest with yourself, and you will be able to take a fairerview of what I have just said. 

Sannaes. Have you any more orders, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. I give you no orders, as I have told you already. I am onlybidding you good-bye; and I do it with grateful thanks to you for allyour goodness to me--and to us all. Good-bye and good luck, Mr. Sannaes. (SANNAES bows. )Won't you shake hands? Ah, I forgot--I offended you. I beg your pardon for that. (SANNAES bows and turns to go. ) Come, Mr. Sannaes--let us at least part as good friends! You are going to America, and I am going among strangers. Let us go away wishing one another well. 

Sannaes (moved). Good-bye, Miss Valborg. (Turns to go. )

Valborg. Mr. Sannaes--shake hands!

Sannaes (stopping). No, Miss Valborg. 

Valborg. Don't treat me uncivilly; I have not deserved that. (SANNAESagain turns to go. ) Mr. Sannaes!

Sannaes (stopping). You might soil your fingers, Miss Valborg! (Walksproudly away. )

Valborg (controlling herself with an effort). Well, we have offendedeach other now. But why should we not forgive each other as well?

Sannaes. Because you have just offended me for the second timeto-day--and more deeply than the first time. 

Valborg. Oh, this is too much! I spoke as I did, because I owed it tomyself not to be put in a false position, and owed it to you to spareyou future disappointment. And you call that insulting you! Which of ushas insulted the other, I should like to know?

Sannaes. You have, by thinking such things of me. Do you realise howcruelly you have spoilt the happiest action of my life?

Valborg. I have done so quite unintentionally, then. I am only glad thatI was mistaken. 

Sannes (bitterly). You are glad! So it really makes you glad to knowthat I am not a scoundrel!

Valborg (quietly). Who said anything of the kind?

Sannaes. You! You know the weak spot in my armour; but that you shouldon that account believe that I could lay a trap for you and try to tradeon your father's misfortune, Miss Valborg--! No, I cannot shake handswith any one who has thought so badly of me as that! And, since you haveso persistently insulted me that I have lost all the timidity I usedto feel in your presence, let me tell you this openly; these hands(stretching out his hands to her) have grown red and ugly in loyal workfor your father, and his daughter should have been above mocking at mefor them! (Turns to go, but stops. ) And, one word more. Ask your fatherfor _his_ hand now, and hold fast to it, instead of deserting him on thevery day that misfortune has overtaken him. That would be more to thepoint than worrying about _my_ future. I can look after that for myself. (Turns again to go, but comes back. ) And when, in his service--whichwill be no easy service now--your hands bear the same honourable marksof work as mine do, and are as red as mine, then you will perhapsunderstand how you have hurt me! At present you cannot. (He goes quicklytowards the door of the outer office. )

Valborg (with a wry smile). What a temper! (More seriously. ) Andyet, after all--. (Looks after him. Just as SANNAES gets to the doorTJAELDE'S voice is heard calling him from the top of the staircase. SANNAES answers him. )

Tjaelde (coming down the stairs). Sannaes! Sannaes! I can see Jakobsencoming. (Hurries across the room as if pursued by fear. SANNAES followshim. ) Of course he will be coming back to look for me again! It iscowardly of me to feel that I cannot stand it; but I cannot--not to-day, not now! I cannot stand any more! Stop him! Don't let him come in! Ishall have to drink my cup of misery to the dregs; but (almost in awhisper) not all at one draught! (Hides his face in his hands. )

Sannaes. He shan't come; don't be afraid! (Goes quickly out, with an airof determination. )

Tjaelde. It is hard--oh, it is hard!

Valborg (coming to his side). Father! (He looks at her, anxiously. ) Youmay safely accept the money Sannaes offers you. 

Tjaelde (in surprise). What do you mean by that?

Valborg. I mean--that, if you do, I will not forsake you either, butstay here with you too. 

Tjaelde (incredulously). You, Valborg?

Valborg. Yes, you know I want to learn office work, and business; and Iwould rather learn in your office. 

Tjaelde (shyly). I don't understand what you--?

Valborg. Don't you understand, dear? I believe I could become of someuse in the office. And in that way, you know, we might begin afresh--andtry, with God's help, to pay your creditors. 

Tjaelde (happily, but shyly). My child! Who put such a happy idea intoyour head?

Valborg (putting an arm round his neck). Father, forgive me for all thatI have neglected to do! You shall see how I will try and make up for it!How hard I shall work!

Tjaelde (still half incredulous). My child! My child!

Valborg. I feel--I cannot tell you how deeply--a craving for love andfor work! (Throws both her arms round his neck. ) Oh, father, how I loveyou!--and how I shall work for you!

Tjaelde. Ah, that is the Valborg I have waited for, ever since you werea little child! But we had drifted away from one another, somehow. 

Valborg. No more about the past! Look forward, father, look forward!Concerns "that would not be affected by the uncertainties of highfinance, "--weren't those his words?

Tjaelde. So you were struck by that expression, too?

Valborg. That may mean a future for us now! We will have a home all toourselves--a little house down on the shore--and I shall help you, andSigne will help mother--we shall know what it is to live, for the firsttime!

Tjaelde. What happiness it will be!

Valborg. Only look forward, father! Look forward! A united family isinvincible!

Tjaelde. And to think that such help should come to me now!

Valborg. Yes, now we are all going to our posts--and all together, whereformerly you stood alone! You will have good fairies round you; whereveryou look, you will see happy faces and busy fingers all day long; and weshall all enjoy our meals and our evenings together, just as we did whenwe were children!

Tjaelde. That, above everything!

Valborg. Ha, ha!--it is after the rain that the birds sing blithest, youknow! And this time our happiness can never miscarry, because we shallhave something worth living for!

Tjaelde. Let us go to your mother! This will cheer her heart!

Valborg. Ah, how I have learnt to love her! What has happened to-day hastaught me. 

Tjaelde. It is for her that we shall all work now. 

Valborg. Yes--for her, for her. She shall rest now. Let us go to her!

Tjaelde. Kiss me first, my dear. (His voice trembles. ) It is so longsince you did!

Valborg (kissing him). Father!

Tjaelde. Now let us go to your mother. (The curtain falls as they go outtogether. )

ACT IV

(SCENE. --In the garden of TJAELDE'S new home, on the shore of the fjord, three years later. A view of tranquil sunlit sea, dotted with boats, inthe background. On the left a portion of the house is seen, with an openwindow within which VALBORG is seen writing at a desk. The garden isshaded with birch trees; flower-beds run round the house, and the wholeatmosphere one of modest comfort. Two small garden tables and severalchairs are in the foreground on the right. A chair standing by itself, further back, has evidently had a recent occupant. When the curtainrises the stage is empty, but VALBORG is visible at the open window. Soon afterwards TJAELDE comes in, wheeling MRS. TJAELDE in an invalidchair. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Another lovely day!

Tjaelde. Tjaelde. Lovely! There was not a ripple on the sea last night. I saw a couple of steamers far out, and a sailing ship that had hove to, and the fisher-boats drifting silently in. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. And think of the storm that was raging two days ago!

Tjaelde. And think of the storm that broke over our lives barely threeyears ago! I was thinking of that in the night. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Sit down here with me. 

Tjaelde. Shall we not continue our stroll?

Mrs. Tjaelde. The sun is too hot. 

Tjaelde. Not for me. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. You big strong man! It is too hot for me. 

Tjaelde (taking a chair). There you are, then. 

Mrs. Tjaelde (taking off his hat and wiping his forehead). You are veryhot, dear. You have never looked so handsome as you do now!

Tjaelde. That's just as well, as you have so much time to admire me now!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Now that I find getting about so difficult, you mean? Ah, that is only my pretence, so as to get you to wheel me about!

Tjaelde (with a sigh). Ah, my dear, it is good of you to take it socheerfully. But that you should be the only one of us to bear such hardtraces of our misfortune--

Mrs. Tjaelde (interrupting him). Do you forget your own whitened hair?That is a sign of it, too, but a beautiful one! And, as for my being aninvalid, I thank God every day for it! In the first place I have almostno pain, and then it gives me the opportunity to feel how good you areto me in every way. 

Tjaelde. You enjoy your life, then?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, indeed I do--and just as I should wish to. 

Tjaelde. Just to be spoiled, and yourself to spoil us?

Valborg (from the window). I have finished the accounts, father. 

Tjaelde. Doesn't it come out at about what I said?

Valborg. Almost exactly. Shall I enter it in the ledger at once?

Tjaelde. Oho! You are glad then, as you seem in such it hurry?

Valborg. Certainly! Such a good stroke of business!

Tjaelde. And both you and Sannaes tried your best to dissuade me fromit!

Valborg. Such a pair of wiseacres!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Ah, your father is your master, my dear!

Tjaelde. Tjaelde. Oh, it is easy enough to captain a small army thatmarches on, instead of a big one that is in retreat. (VALBORG goes onwith her work. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. And yet it seemed hard enough for us to give it up. 

Tjaelde. Yes, yes--oh, yes. I can tell you, I was thinking of that lastnight. If God had given me what I begged for then, what state should wehave been in now? I was thinking of that, too. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. It is the fact of the estate being at last wound up thathas brought all these thoughts into your mind, dear?

Tjaelde. Yes. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Then I must confess that I, too, have scarcely been ableto think of anything else since yesterday, when Sannaes went into townto settle it up. This a red-letter day! Signe is wrestling with a littlebanquet for us; we shall see what an artist she has become! Here she is!

Tjaelde. I think I will just go and look over Valborg's accounts. (Goesto the window. SIGNE comes out of the house, wearing a cook's apron andcarrying a basin. )

Signe. Mother, you must taste my soup! (Offers her a spoonful. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Clever girl! (Tastes the soup. ) Perhaps it would stand alittle--. No, it is very good as it is. You are clever!

Signe. Am I not! Will Sannaes be back soon?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Your father says we may expect him any moment. 

Tjaelde (at the window, to VALBORG). No, wait a moment. I will come in. (Goes into the house, and is seen within the window beside VALBORG. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. My little Signe, I want to ask you something?

Signe. Do you?

Mrs. Tjaelde. What was in the letter you had yesterday evening?

Signe. Aha, I might have guessed that was it! Nothing, mother. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Nothing that pained you, then?

Signe. I slept like a top all night--so you can judge for yourself. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I am so glad. But, you know, there seems to me something alittle forced in the gay way you say that?

Signe. Does there? Well, it was something that I shall always be ashamedof; that is all. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I am thankful to hear it, for--

Signe (interrupting her). That must be Sannaes. I hear wheels. Yes, herehe is! He has come too soon; dinner won't be ready for half an hour yet. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. That doesn't matter. 

Signe. Father, here is Sannaes!

Tjaelde (from within). Good! I will come out! (SIGNE goes into the houseas TJAELDE comes out. SANNAES comes in a moment later. )

Tjaelde and Mrs. Tjaelde. Welcome!

Sannaes. Thank you! (Lays down his dust-coat and driving gloves on achair, and comes forward. )

Tjaelde. Well?

Sannaes. Yes--your bankruptcy is discharged!

Mrs. Tjaelde. And the result was--?

Sannaes. Just about what we expected. 

Tjaelde. And, I suppose, just about what Mr. Berent wrote?

Sannaes. Just about, except for one or two inconsiderable trifles. Youcan see for yourself. (Gives him a bundle of papers. ) The high pricesthat have ruled of late, and good management, have altered the wholesituation. 

Tjaelde (who has opened the papers and glanced at the totals). A deficitof £12, 000. 

Sannaes. I made a declaration on your behalf, that you intended totry and repay that sum, but that you should be at liberty to do it inwhatever way you found best. And so--

Tjaelde. And so--?

Sannaes. --I proferred on the spot rather more than half the amount youstill owed Jakobsen. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Not really? (TJAELDE takes out a pencil and begins makingcalculations on the margins of the papers. )

Sannaes. There was general satisfaction--and they all sent you theircordial congratulations. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. So that, if all goes well--

Tjaelde. Yes, if things go as well with the business as they promiseto, Sannaes, in twelve or fourteen years I shall have paid every one infull. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. We haven't much longer than that left to live, dear!

Tjaelde. Then we shall die poor. And I shall not complain!

Mrs. Tjaelde. No, indeed! The honourable name you will leave to yourchildren will be well worth it. 

Tjaelde. And they will inherit a sound business, which they can go onwith if they choose. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Did you hear that, Valborg?

Valborg (from the window). Every word! (SANNAES bows to her. ) I must goin and tell Signe! (Moves away from the window. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. What did Jakobsen say?--honest old Jakobsen?

Sannaes. He was very much affected, as you would expect. He willcertainly be coming out here to-day. 

Tjaelde (looking up from the papers). And Mr. Berent?

Sannaes. He is coming hard on my heels. I was to give you his kindregards and tell you so. 

Tjaelde. Splendid! We owe him so much. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes, he has been a true friend to us. But, talking of truefriends, I have something particular to ask _you_, Sannaes. 

Sannaes. Me, Mrs. Tjaelde?

Mrs. Tjaelde. The maid told me that yesterday, when you went into town, you took the greater part of your belongings with you. Is that so?

Sannaes. Yes, Mrs. Tjaelde. 

Tjaelde. What does that mean? (To his wife. ) You said nothing about itto me, my dear. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Because I thought it might be a misunderstanding. But nowI must ask what was the meaning of it. Are you going away?

Sannaes (fingering a chair, in evident confusion). Yes, Mrs. Tjaelde. 

Tjaelde. Where to? You never said anything about it. 

Sannaes. No; but I have always considered that I should have finished mytask here as soon as the estate was finally wound up. 

Tjaelde and Mrs. Tjaelde. You mean to leave us?

Sannaes. Yes. 

Tjaelde. But why?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Where do you mean to go?

Sannaes. To my relations in America. I can now, without doing you anyharm, withdraw my capital from the business by degrees and transfer itabroad. 

Tjaelde. And dissolve our partnership?

Sannaes. You know that at any rate you had decided now to resume the oldstyle of the firm's name. 

Tjaelde. That is true; but, Sannaes, what does it all mean? What is yourreason?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Are you not happy here, where we are all so attached toyou?

Tjaelde. You have quite as good a prospect for the future here as inAmerica. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. We held together in evil days; are we not to hold togethernow that good days have come?

Sannaes. I owe you both so much. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. Good heavens, it is we that owe you--

Tjaelde. --more than we can ever repay. (Reproachfully. ) Sannaes!

(SIGNE comes in, having taken off her cooking apron. )

Signe. Congratulations! Congratulations! Father mother! (Kisses themboth. ) Welcome, Sannaes!--But aren't you pleased?--now? (A pause. VALBORG comes in. )

Valborg. What has happened?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Sannaes wants to leave us, my children (A pause. )

Signe. But, Sannaes--!

Tjaelde. Even if you want to go away, why have you never said a singleword to us about it before? (To the others. ) Or has he spoken to any ofyou? (MRS. TJAELDE shakes her head. )

Signe. No. 

Sannaes. It was because--because--I wanted to be able to go as soon as Ihad told you. Otherwise it would be too hard to go. 

Tjaelde. You must have very serious grounds for it, then! Has anythinghappened to you to--to make it necessary? (SANNAES does not answer. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. And to make it impossible for you to trust any of us?

Sannaes (shyly). I thought I had better keep it to myself. (A pause. )

Tjaelde. That makes it still more painful for us--to think that youcould go about in our little home circle here, where you have sharedeverything with us, carrying the secret of this intention hidden in yourheart. 

Sannaes. Do not be hard on me! Believe me, if I could stay, I would; andif I could tell you the reason, I would. (A pause. )

Signe (to her mother, in an undertone). Perhaps he wants to get married?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Would his being here with us make any difference to that?Any one that Sannaes loved would be dear to us. 

Tjaelde (going up to SANNAES and putting an arm round his shoulders). Tell one of us, then, if you cannot tell us all. Is it nothing we canhelp you in?

Sannaes. No. 

Tjaelde. But can you judge of that alone? One does not always realisehow much some one else's advice, on the experience of an older man, mayhelp one. 

Sannaes. Unfortunately it is as I say. 

Tjaelde. It must be something very painful, then?

Sannaes. Please--!

Tjaelde. Well, Sannaes, you have quite cast a cloud over to-day'shappiness for us. I shall miss you as I have never missed any one. 

Mrs. Tjaelde. I cannot imagine the house without Sannaes!

Tjaelde (to his wife). Come, dear, shall we go in again?

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes--it is not nice out here any longer. (TJAELDE takesher into the house. SIGNE turns to VALBORG to go in with her, but whenshe comes close to her she gives a little cry. VALBORG takes her arm, and their eyes meet. )

Signe. Where have my wits been? (She goes into the house, looking backat VALBORG and SANNAES. The latter is giving way to his emotion, but assoon as his eyes fall on VALBORG he recovers himself. )

Valborg (impetuously). Sannaes!

Sannaes. What are your orders, Miss Valborg?

Valborg (turning away from him, then turning back, but avoiding hiseyes). Do you really mean to leave us?

Sannaes. Yes, Miss Valborg. (A pause. )

Valborg. So we shall never stand back to back at our desks in the sameroom again?

Sannaes. No, Miss Valborg. 

Valborg. That is a pity; I had become so accustomed to it. 

Sannaes. You will easily become accustomed to some one else's--back. 

Valborg. Ah, some one else is some one else. 

Sannaes. You must excuse me, Miss Valborg; I don't feel in the humourfor jesting to-day. (Turn to go. )

Valborg (looking up at him). Is this to be our parting, then? (A pause. )

Sannaes. I thought of taking leave of you all this afternoon. 

Valborg (taking a step towards him). But ought not we two to settle ouraccounts first?

Sannaes (coldly). No, Miss Valborg. 

Valborg. Do you feel then that everything between us has been just as itought?

Sannaes. God knows I don't!

Valborg. But you think I am to blame?--Oh, well, it doesn't matter. 

Sannaes. I am quite willing to take the blame. Put anyway, it is allfinished with now. 

Valborg. But if we were to share the blame? You cannot be quiteindifferent as to which of us should take it?

Sannaes. I confess I am not. But, as I said, I do not wish for anysettling of accounts between us. 

Valborg. But I wish it. 

Sannaes. You will have plenty of time to settle it to your ownsatisfaction. 

Valborg. But, if I am in difficulties about it, I cannot do it alone. 

Sannaes. I do not think you will find any difficulty. 

Valborg. But if _I_ think so?--if I feel myself deeply wronged?

Sannaes. I have told you that I am willing to take all the blame uponmyself. 

Valborg. No, Sannaes--I don't want charity; I want to be understood. Ihave a question to ask you. 

Sannaes. As you will. 

Valborg. How was it that we got on so well for the first year after myfather's failure-and even longer? Have you ever thought of that?

Sannaes. Yes. I think it was because we never talked about anything butour work--about business. 

Valborg. You were my instructor. 

Sannaes. And when you no longer needed an instructor--

Valborg. --we hardly spoke to one another. 

Sannaes (softly). No. 

Valborg. Well, what could I say or do, when every sign of friendship onmy part went unnoticed?

Sannaes. Unnoticed? Oh no, Miss Valborg, I noticed them. 

Valborg. That was my punishment, then!

Sannas. God forbid I should do you an injustice. You had a motive whichdid you credit; you felt compassion for me, and so you could not helpacting as you did. But, Miss Valborg, I refuse your compassion. 

Valborg. And suppose it were gratitude?

Sannaes (softly). I dreaded that more than anything else! I had had awarning. 

Valborg. You must admit, Sannaes, that all this made you very difficultto deal with!

Sannaes. I quite admit that. But, honestly, _you_ must admit that Ihad good reason to mistrust an interest in me that sprang from meregratitude. Had circumstances been different, I should only have boredyou cruelly; I knew that quite well. And I had no fancy for being anamusement for your idle hours. 

Valborg. How you have mistaken me!--If you will think of it, surely youmust understand how different a girl, who has been accustomed to traveland society, becomes when she has to stay at home and work because itis her duty. She comes to judge men by an altogether different standard, too. The men that she used to think delightful are very likely to appearsmall in her eyes when it is a question of the demands life makes onability or courage or self-sacrifice; while the men she used to laughat are transformed in her eyes into models of what God meant men tobe, when she is brought into close contact with them in her father'soffice. --Is there anything so surprising in that? (A pause. )

Sannaes. Thank you, at all events, for saying that to me. It has done megood. But you should have said it sooner. 

Valborg (emphatically). How could I, when you misjudged everything I didor said? No; it was impossible until mistakes and misunderstandings haddriven us so far apart that we could not endure them any longer (Turnsaway. )

Sannaes. Perhaps you are right. I cannot at once recall all that hashappened. If I have been mistaken, I shall by degrees find the knowledgeof it a profound comfort. --You must excuse me, Miss Valborg, I have anumber of things to see to. (Turns to go. )

Valborg (anxiously). Sannaes, as you admit that you have judgedme unjustly, don't you think you ought at least to give me--somesatisfaction?

Sannaes. You may be certain, Miss Valborg, that when I am balancing ouraccount you shall not suffer any injustice. But I cannot do it now. AllI have to do now is to get ready to go. 

Valborg. But you are not ready to go, Sannaes! You have not finishedyour work here yet! There is what I just spoke of--and something elsethat dates farther back than that. 

Sannaes. You must feel how painful it is for me to prolong thisinterview. (Turns to go. )

Valborg. But surely you won't go without setting right something that Iam going to beg you to?

Sannas. What is that, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. Something that happened a long time ago. 

Sannaes. If it is in my power, I will do what you ask. 

Valborg. It is. --Ever since that day you have never offered to shakehands with me. 

Sannaes. Have you really noticed that? (A pause. )

Valborg (with a smile, turning away). Will you do so now?

Sannaes (stepping nearer to her). Is this more than a mere whim?

Valborg (concealing her emotion). How can you ask such a question now?

Sannaes. Because all this time you have never once asked me to shakehands with you. 

Valborg. I wanted you to offer me your hand. (A pause. )

Sannaes. Are you serious for once?

Valborg. I mean it, seriously. 

Sannaes (in a happier voice). You really set a value on it?

Valborg. A great value. 

Sannaes (going up to her). Here it is, then!

Valborg (turning and taking his hand). I accept the hand you offer me. 

Sannaes (turning pale). What do you mean?

Valborg. I mean that for some time past I have known that I should beproud to be the wife of a man who has loved me, and me alone, ever sincehe was a boy, and has saved my father and us all. 

Sannaes. Oh, Miss Valborg!

Valborg. And you wanted to go away, rather than offer me your hand; andthat, only because we had accepted help from you--and you did not thinkwe were free agents! That was too much; and, as you would not speak, Ihad to!

Sannaes (kneeling to her). Miss Valborg!

Valborg. You have the most loyal nature, the most delicate mind, and thewarmest heart I have ever known. 

Sannaes. This is a thousand times too much!

Valborg. Next to God, I have to thank you that I have become what Iam; and I feel that I can offer you a life's devotion such as you wouldrarely find in this world. 

Sannaes. I cannot answer because I scarcely realise what you are saying. But you are saying it because you are sorry for me, now that I have togo away, and feel that you owe me some gratitude. (Takes both herhand in his. ) Let me speak! I know the truth better than you, and havethought over it far more than you. You are so immeasurably above me inability, in education, in manners--and a wife should not be able to lookdown on her husband. At all events, I am too proud to be willing to beexposed to that. No, what you are feeling now is only the result of yourbeautiful nature, and the recollection of it will hallow all my life. All the pain and all the happiness I have known have come from you. Yourlife will be one of self-renunciation; but, God knows there are manysuch! And my burden will be lightened now, because I shall knowthat your good wishes will always be with me. (Gets up. ) But part wemust--and now more than ever! For I could not bear to be near you unlessyou were mine, and to make you mine would only mean misery for us bothafter a little while!

Valborg. Sannaes--!

Sannaes (holding her hands and interrupting her). I entreat you not tosay anything more! You have too much power over me; do not use it tomake me sin! For it would be that--a great sin--to put two honest heartsinto a false position, where they would distress one another, evenperhaps get to hate one another. 

Valborg. But let me--

Sannas (letting go her hands and stepping back). No, you must not temptme. Life with you would mean perpetual anxiety, for I should neverfeel equal to what it would demand of me! But now I can part from youcomforted. There will be no bitterness in my heart now; and by degreesall my thoughts of the past and of you will turn to sweetness. God blessyou! May every good fortune go with you! Good-bye! (Goes quickly towardsthe house. )

Valborg. Sannaes! (Follows him. ) Sannaes! Listen to me! (SANNAES takesup his coat and gloves, and, as he rushes out without looking wherehe is going, runs full tilt into BERENT who comes in at that momentfollowed by JAKOBSEN. )

Sannaes. I beg your pardon! (Rushes out to the right. )

Berent. Are you two playing a game of blind man's buff?

Valborg. God knows we are!

Berent. You need not be so emphatic about it! I have had forcibleevidence of it. (Rubs his stomach and laughs. )

Valborg. You must excuse me! Father is in there. (Points to the left andgoes hurriedly out to the right. )

Berent. We don't seem to be getting a particularly polite reception!

Jakobsen. No, we seem to be rather in the way, Mr. Berent. 

Berent (laughing). It looks like it. But what has been going on?

Jakobsen. I don't know. They looked as if they had been fighting, theirfaces were so flushed. 

Berent. They looked upset, you mean?

Jakobsen. Yes, that's it. Ah, here is Mr. Tjaelde! (To himself. ) GoodLord, how aged he looks! (Withdraws into the background as BERENT goesforward to greet TJAELDE, who comes in. )

Tjaelde (to BERENT). I am delighted to see you! You are always welcomein our little home--and this year more welcome than ever!

Berent. Because things are going better than ever this year! Icongratulate you on your discharge--and also on your determination topay everything in full!

Tjaelde. Yes, if God wills, I mean to--

Berent. Well, things are going splendidly, aren't they?

Tjaelde. So far, yes. 

Berent. You are over the worst of it, now that you have laid thefoundations of a new business and laid them solidly. 

Tjaelde. One of the things that have given me the greatest encouragementhas been the fact that I have won your confidence--and that has gainedme the confidence of others. 

Berent. I could have done nothing unless you had first of all doneeverything. But don't let us say any more about it!--Well, the placelooks even prettier than it did last year. 

Tjaelde. We do a little more to it each year, you know. 

Berent. And you are still all together here?

Tjaelde. So far, yes. 

Berent. Ah, by the way, I can give you news of your deserter. (TJAELDElooks surprised. ) I mean your lieutenant!

Tjaelde. Oh--of him! Have you seen him?

Berent. I was on the same boat coming here. There was a very rich girlon board. 

Tjaelde (laughing). Oh, I see!

Berent. All the same, I don't think it came to any thing. It is ratherlike coming upon a herd of deer when you are stalking; after your firstshot, you don't find it so easy to get another; they have grown wary!

Jakobsen (who during this conversation has been screwing up his courageto address TJAELDE). I--I am a pig, I am! I know that!

Tjaelde (taking his hand). Oh, come, Jakobsen--!

Jakobsen. A great blundering pig!--But I know it now!

Tjaelde. That's all right! I can tell you I am delighted to be able toset affairs straight between you and me. 

Jakobsen. I don't know what to answer. It goes to my heart! (Shakes hishand heartily. ) You are a far better man than I, --and I said so to mywife. "He's a splendid fellow, " I said. 

Tjaelde (releasing his hand). Let us forget everything except the happydays we have had together, Jakobsen! How do things go at the Brewery?

Jakobsen. At the Brewery! As long as folk ladle beer into their stomachsat the rate they do now--

Berent. Jakobsen was kind enough to drive me out here. We had a mostamusing drive. He is a character. 

Jakobsen (in an anxious undertone, to TJAELDE). What does he mean bythat?

Tjaelde. That you are different from most people. 

Jakobsen. Ah!--I didn't feel sure, you know, whether he wasn't sittingthere making game of me, all the way here. 

Tjaelde. How can you think such a thing? (To BERENT. ) Do come into thehouse. Excuse my going first; but my wife is not always quite preparedto receive visitors since she has been able to do so little for herself. (Goes into the house. )

Berent. I don't think Mr. Tjaelde seems to me to be looking in quite asgood form as I expected?

Jakobsen. Don't you? I didn't notice anything. 

Berent. Perhaps I am mistaken. I think he meant us to follow him in, didn't he?

Jakobsen. So I understood. 

Berent. Then, as you have brought me so far, you must take me in to Mrs. Tjaelde. 

Jakobsen. I am quite at your service, sir. I have the deepest respectfor Mrs. Tjaelde--(hurriedly)--and of course for Mr. Tjaelde too. Ofcourse. 

Berent. Yes. Well, let us go in. 

Jakobsen. Let us go in. (He tries anxiously to keep in step withBERENT'S peculiar walk, but finds it difficult. )

Berent. I think you had better not try. My step suits very few. 

Jakobsen. Oh, I shall manage--! (They go out to the left. SANNAES comeshurriedly in from the right, and crosses the stage; looks around; thencomes across to the foreground and leans with his back against a tree. VALBORG comes in a moment later, comes forward, sees him, and laughs. )

Sannaes. There, you see, Miss Valborg; you are laughing at me. 

Valborg. I don't know whether I want to laugh or to cry. 

Sannaes. Believe me, you are mistaken about this, Miss Valborg. Youdon't see things as plainly as I do. 

Valborg. Which of us was it that was mistaken to-day?--and had to begpardon for it?

Sannaes. It was I, I know. But this is impossible! A real union ofhearts needs to be founded on more than respect--

Valborg (laughing). On love?

Sannaes. You misunderstand me. Could you go into society with me withoutfeeling embarrassed? (VALBORG laughs. ) You see, the mere idea of itmakes you laugh. 

Valborg (laughing). I am laughing because you are magnifying the leastimportant part of it into the most important. 

Sannaes. You know how awkward and shy--in fact downright frightened I amamongst those who--. (VALBORG laughs again. ) There, you see--you can'thelp laughing at the idea!

Valborg. I should perhaps even laugh at you when we were in societytogether! (Laughs. )

Sannaes (seriously). But I should suffer horribly if you did. 

Valborg. Believe me, Sannaes, I love you well enough to be able toafford to have a little laugh sometimes at your little imperfections. Indeed, I often do! And suppose we were out in society, and I saw youweighed down under the necessity for pretty manners that do not comeeasy to you; if I did laugh at you, do you think there would be anyunkindness behind my laughter? If others laughed at you, do you supposeI would not, the very next moment, take your arm and walk proudly downthe room with you? I know what you really are, and others know it too!Thank God it is not only bad deeds that are known to others in thisworld!

Sannaes. Your words intoxicate me and carry me off my feet!

Valborg (earnestly). If you think I am only flattering you, let us putit to the test. Mr. Berent is here. He moves in the very best society, but he is superior to its littlenesses. Shall we take his opinion?Without betraying anything, I could make him give it in a moment. 

Sannaes (carried away). I want no one's opinion but yours!

Valborg. That's right! If only you feel certain of my love--

Sannaes (impetuously). --then nothing else will seem to matter; and thatalone will be able to teach me all that I lack, in a very short time. 

Valborg. Look into my eyes!

Sannaes (taking her hands). Yes!

Valborg. Do you believe that nothing would ever make me ashamed of you!

Sannaes. Yes, I believe that. 

Valborg (with emotion). Do you believe that I love you?

Sannaes. Yes! (Falls on one knee. )

Valborg. Deeply enough for my love to last all our lives--

Sannaes. Yes, yes!

Valborg. Then stay with me; and we will look after the old folk--andreplace them when, in God's good time, they are taken from us. (SANNAESbursts into tears. TJAELDE, who has come to the window to show BERENThis ledgers, happens to look up and sees VALBORG and SANNAES. )

Tjaelde (leaning out of the window, and speaking gently:) Valborg, whathas happened?

Valborg (quietly). Only that Sannaes and I are engaged to be married. 

Tjaelde. Is it possible! (To BERENT, who is immersed in the accounts. )Excuse me! (Hurries away from the window. )

Sannaes (who, in his emotion has heard nothing). Forgive me! It has beensuch a long, hard struggle--and I feel overwhelmed!

Valborg. Let us go in to my mother. 

Sannws (shrinking back). I can't, Miss Valborg--you must wait a little--

Valborg. Here they come. (TJAELDE comes in wheeling MRS. TJAELDE in herchair. VALBORG runs to her mother and throws herself into her arms. )

Mrs. Tjaelde (softly). God be praised and thanked!

Tjaelde (going up to SANNAES and embracing him). My son!

Mrs. Tjaelde. So that was why Sannaes wanted to go away! Oh, Sannaes!(TJAELDE brings SANNAES up to her. SANNAES kneels and kisses her hand, then gets up and goes into the background, to recover himself. SIGNEcomes in. )

Signe. Mother, everything is ready now!

Mrs. Tjaelde. So are things out here!

Signe (looking round). Not really?

Valborg (to SIGNE). Forgive me for never having told you!

Signe. You certainly kept your secret well!

Valborg. I kept long years of suffering secret--that was all! (SIGNEkisses her and whispers to her; then turns to SANNAES. )

Signe. Sannaes! (Shakes his hand. ) So we are to be brother andsister-in-law?

Sannaes (embarrassed). Oh, Miss Signe--

Signe. But you mustn't call me Miss Signe now, you know!

Valborg. You must expect that! He calls me "Miss" Valborg still!

Singe. Well, he won't be able to do that when you are married, anyway!

Mrs. Tjaelde (to TJAELDE). But where are our friends?

Tjaelde. Mr. Berent is in the office. There he is, at the window. 

Berent (at the window). Now I am coming straight out to congratulateyou, with my friend Jakobsen. (Comes out. )

Valborg (going to TJAELDE). Father!

Tjaelde. My child!

Valborg. If we had not known those bad days we should never have knownthis happy one! (He gives her a grip of the hand. )

Tjaelde (to BERENT). Allow me to present to you my daughter Valborg'sfiancé--Mr. Sannaes. 

Berent. I congratulate you on your choice, Miss Valborg--and Icongratulate the whole family on such a son-in-law. 

Valborg (triumphantly). There, Sannaes!

Jakobsen. May I too, though I am only a stupid sort of chap, say thatthis lad has been in love with you ever since he was in his teens--hehardly could be sooner than that. But I can tell you, honestly, I shouldnever have credited you with having so much sense as to take him. (Alllaugh. )

Mrs. Tjaelde. Signe is whispering to me that our dinner is getting cold. 

Signe. May I take my mother's place and ask you to take me in to dinner, Mr. Berent?

Berent (offering her his arm). I am honoured!--But our bridal pair mustgo first!

Valborg. Sannaes--?

Sannaes (whispers, as he gives her his arm). To think that I have youon my arm! (They go into the house, followed by BERENT and SIGNE, and byJAKOBSEN. )

Tjaelde (bending over his wife, as he prepares to wheel her chair in). My dear, God has blessed our house now!

Mrs. Tjaelde. My dear man!

Curtain. 

THE KING

A PLAY IN A PROLOGUE AND FOUR ACTS

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

 The KING. HARALD GRAN, a rich manufacturer. KOLL, Chief Magistrate of the district. FLINK. CLARA ERNST. The PRINCESS. BARONESS MARC. ANNA, a deaf and dumb girl. FALBE. The MAYOR. NATHALIE, his daughter. ALSTAD. VILHELM, his son. The PARISH PRIEST. BANG, a rich trader. VINÄGER. COUNT PLATEN. The GENERAL. MATILDE. A Ballad Singer. A Young Beggar. A Servant of the King's. Ladies and Gentlemen, Masked Dancers, Work-people, Farmers, etc. 

PROLOGUE

(SCENE. --A large gothic hall, brilliantly illuminated, in which a maskedball is taking place. At the rise of the curtain a ballet is beingperformed in the centre of the hall. Masked dancers are grouped around, watching it. Two of them, women, are conversing on the right of thestage. )

First Mask. Have you heard that the King is to be here to-night?

Second Mask. Yes, and since I heard it I have been imagining I saw himeverywhere. 

First Mask (pointing). That is not he, is it?

Second Mask. He is taller than that. 

First Mask. That one, then? Look, that one!

Second Mask. That one has spoken to me. He has too old a voice. 

First Mask. Shall we see if we can find him?

Second Mask. Yes, come along!

(A number of girls, wearing similar costumes and all masked, havemeanwhile collected on the left side of the stage. )

First Girl. Are we all here?

Second Girl. All but Matilde. 

Matilde. Here I am! Have you heard that the King is to be here?

All. Really?

Matilde. I don't know how he is dressed; but one of the masters of theceremonies told me he was to be here. 

Several of the Girls. The dear King! (Two masked dancers, dressed asCats, pass by. )

Tom Cat. Do you hear that, my pet?

Puss. Miau!

Matilde. Let us try and discover him. 

All. Yes, yes!

A Mask. And when we have discovered him--?

Matilde. Let us all dance round him!

All. Yes!

Tom Cat (to Puss). You had better look after your virtue, Miss!

Puss. Miau!

Tom Cat. Miau! (They pass out of sight. )

Matilde. Remember that we are all to meet here in a quarter of an hour!

All. Yes! (They disperse. The ballet comes to a close amidst universalapplause. Conversation among the dancers becomes general and animated. The BARONESS MARC, disguised as an Old Woman, comes forward, talking toanother mask dressed as a Donkey. )

Baroness. I will never forgive you for that, my lord chamberlain. 

The Donkey. But you frighten me clean out of my part, Baroness!

Baroness. If only I could understand how it happened!

The Donkey. After all, my dear Baroness, you cannot be expected to takeout all your schoolmistresses and their senior pupils on a leash!

Baroness. No, but I have particular reasons for wishing to look closelyafter _her_. (All this time she has been persistently looking round theroom. ) And in such a whirling crowd as this--

The Donkey. Let us lose ourselves in it, then! (He brays as they go out. The PRINCESS, masked and dressed in a costume of the time of LouisXV. , comes forward accompanied by a Cavalier in a costume of the sameperiod. )

Princess (continuing a discussion). And I say that if a king has suchgraces of mind and person as ours has, he may do anything he pleases. 

Cavalier. _Anything_, Princess?

Princess. Anything that his mind prompts, provided that he do itbeautifully. (A GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING, dressed in a costume of the sameperiod, approaches them. )

Gentleman-in-Waiting. I cannot discover him, your Royal Highness!

Princess. But he is here. He is _here_. And for a lady's sake. I amcertain I am right. 

Cavalier. But I asked one of the masters of the ceremonies, and he knewnothing about it. 

Princess. Then it must have been one that has not been let into thesecret. 

Cavalier. But, your Royal Highness--

Princess. Don't keep calling me "your Royal Highness, " but get me adescription of the costume he is wearing. (The GENTLEMAN-IN-WAITING bowsand goes away. ) And you and I will go on hunting--

Cavalier. --for the noble huntsman--

Princess. --who is being hunted himself! (Moves away, but stopssuddenly. ) Who is that? (CLARA ERNST, masked and in peasant costume, comes forward followed by a masked figure wearing a domino. He iswhispering to her over her shoulder. She keeps glancing about, as iflooking for some one. )

The Domino. --and there, in the enchanted castle, buried deep in thewooded park--

Clara. Let me alone!

The Domino. --there we shall be greeted by a babbling fountain ofwater--a nymph, holding the cup of joy high above her head--

Clara (anxiously). What can have become of her?

(Meanwhile one of the masked dancers has been following them, and nowturns back to join others. )

A Masked Dancer (pointing to the DOMINO). That is the King!

Another (quickly). But who is _she_?

The Domino. --on both sides, shady alleys leading to the doors of asecret retreat; and there--

Clara (turning round). I despise you! (The dancing and music suddenlystop. General consternation. )

The Baroness (starting forward as she hears CLARA voice. ) Clara!

The Domino (taking CLARA's hand and leading her apart from the others). Do you know who it is that you despise?

Clara (greatly agitated). Yes, I know who you are!--and that is why, from the bottom of my heart, I despise you! (The music begins afresh, covering the general consternation that has spread among the dancers. The BARONESS comes forward with a cry of "Clara!" CLARA bursts intotears and throws herself into her arms. Curtain. )

ACT I

SCENE I

(SCENE. --A large hall in Gran's factory. The walls are bare. On theleft, about half-way forward, is a small platform. A meeting of theshareholders of a railway company is in progress. Facing the platformare seated the gentry; the common herd, mainly farmers and work-people, are sitting and standing about wherever they can find room. On theright, large windows are standing open; through these another crowdcan be seen, listening from outside. GRAN is standing in front of theplatform, speaking to the meeting. )

Gran. And, as it was found impossible for the main line of the railwayto touch our town, we determined, rather than allow all our exertionsto be wasted, to construct a branch line on our own account. I hadthe honour to be elected chairman of the board of directors of thisundertaking. No directors ever had more unrestricted powers than weregiven to us--possibly because there were no two opinions as to the routethe line should take the natural formation of the ground indicatedit unmistakably. It was only when we approached the question of thepurchase of our rolling-stock that any dissension arose--not among thedirectors, but among the shareholders. As the majority of the latterare farmers and work-people, we had decided on buying only one class ofrailway carriage of a type slightly more comfortable than the ordinarythird-class carriage. That is the extent of our misdeeds! To-day'smeeting will probably show what the general sense on the matter is. Ourpowers being unlimited, we were under no obligation to consult any onein the matter; but, notwithstanding that, we decided to call a meetingof the shareholders and submit the question to them. And, on thedirectors' behalf, I must thank the shareholders for having attended insuch numbers; young and old, men and women, I dare say quite a thirdof the total number of shareholders are present. The meeting will nowproceed to elect a chairman. (Sits down. )

The Mayor (after a pause). I beg to move that Mr. Koll, our chiefmagistrate, whom it is a great pleasure to see honouring this meetingwith his presence, have the further kindness to take the chair. 

Gran. The motion before the meeting is that the Chief Magistrate shalltake the chair. Shall I assume it to be carried? (Silence follows. )

The Mayor. Yes. (Laughter. )

Gran. The meeting should preferably elect some one who may be consideredto be unaffected by considerations of party. 

Alstad (half rising, with his glasses in his hand). Then we shall haveto send for some one that does not live in these parts! There is no oneof that sort left here! (Sits down, amidst laughter. )

The Priest. All authority springs from on high. Obedience to those setin authority over us is obedience to the Almighty. But it is againstthis very obedience that people are rebelling nowadays. 

Gran. It is precisely some one to be in authority over us that we wantto elect. At present we have no one. 

The Priest. No, that's just it. Every meeting nowadays seems to claimauthority on its own account. Let rather show our respect to actualauthority--such respect as we would show to our fathers. (Sits down. )

Gran. Then, as far as I can grasp the situation, the Chief Magistratehas been proposed and seconded?

The Priest. Yes. 

Gran. Does any one wish to propose any one else? (Silence. )

Alstad. May I request the Chief Magistrate to take the chair?

Koll (getting up). I don't know that it is any great compliment to beelected in this way; but I will take the chair, for the sole reason ofenabling the meeting to proceed to business. (Takes his place on theplatform, and raps on the table with a mallet. ) I declare the meetingopen. 

Gran (getting up). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting. 

Gran. The motion proposed by the directors is this: "That only one classof railway carriage shall be purchased, slightly more comfortable thanthe ordinary third-class carriage. " (Gives the motion in writing to thechairman, and sits down. )

Koll. The following is the motion submitted to meeting. (Reads it out. )Who wishes to speak on the motion? (Silence. ) Come, some one mustspeak on it--or I shall have to put it to the vote forthwith. (Silence, followed by laughter here and there. )

The Priest. Mr. Chairman!

Koll. The Priest will address the meeting. 

The Priest. I see, in this assembly, a number of young men, even anumber of maidens; and I feel bound to ask whether young men, and evenmaidens, are to be allowed to take part in these proceedings?

Koll. Any shareholder that is of age has the right to. 

The Priest. But St. Paul expressly tells us that women are not to speakin public places. 

Koll. Well, they can hold their tongues, then. (Laughter. )

The Priest. But even the fact of voting at a railway meeting does notseem to me to be in accordance with the humility and modesty that bothNature and the Scriptures indicate as characteristic of woman. I believeit to be the first step on a wrong road. The apostle says--

Koll. We must leave them to decide the matter for themselves. Does anyone wish to--?

The Priest (interrupting him). Mr. Chairman, if you will not permit meto quote the apostle, allow me at all events to say that the spectacleof a young man voting against his father, or a woman voting against herhusband--

Koll. Will you tell me who could prohibit it? Does any one wish tospeak--?

The Priest (interrupting). The Scriptures prohibit it, Mr. Chairman!--the Scriptures, which we are all bound to obey, even--

Gran (getting up and interrupting him). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting. 

Gran. I only want to ask whether--

The Priest. But _I_ was addressing the meeting!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting. 

The Priest. I protest against that ruling!

Alstad (half rising). Our worthy Priest must obey authority. (Sits downamidst laughter. )

The Priest. Not when it does an injustice! I appeal to the meeting!

Koll. Very good!--Will those in favour of the Priest addressing themeeting kindly stand up? (No one gets up; and those who were previouslystanding bob down. Laughter. ) Carried unanimously, that the Priest donot address the meeting. (The PRIEST sits down. ) Mr. Gran will addressthe meeting. 

Gran (getting up). I withdraw from my right! (Renewed laughter. )

The Mayor (getting up). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. The Mayor will address the meeting. 

The Mayor. I am one of many to whom this proposal of the directors seemsextraordinary, to say the least of it. Do they propose that the ladiesof my family--I will leave myself out of the question, for as a publicman I have to rub shoulders with all sorts of people--do they propose, I say, that ladies who have been delicately brought up shall travel withany Tom, Dick and Harry?--perhaps with convicts being conveyed to gaol, or with journeymen labourers? Is his honour the Chief Magistrate, who isa Commander of a noble Order of Knighthood, to travel side by sidewith a drunken navvy? Supposing the King were to pay a visit to thisbeautiful district, which has acquired such a reputation since so manyof the best people from town have taken villas here; is his Majesty tomake the journey in one of these third-class carriages, with the chanceof travelling in company with tradesman stinking of stale cheese?--withfolk who, moreover--well, perhaps in common decency I ought not togo on, as ladies are present. (Laughter. ) "Economy, " I hear some onesuggest. That word is in great favour nowadays. But I should like toknow what economy there is getting your clothes soiled? (Laughter. ) Doesa first-class carriage wear out sooner than a third class? It costsmore to build, no doubt, but that is soon made up by the higher farescharged. I can discover no reasonable ground for this proposal, look atit how you will from the commercial point of view. One has to lookat the _political_ aspect of the matter, to understand it; and I amreluctant to drag in politics. I will only say, in conclusion, that itmust be those who have framed this proposal that expect to derive someprofit from it; the railway certainly would derive none. (Sits down. )

Koll. That last remark was a little like an accusation--

The Mayor (getting up). I only alluded to what is in every one's mind. (Sits down. )

Koll. A speaker is not in order in making accusations, even though theybe assumed to be in every one's mind. --I see that Mr. Alstad wishes tospeak. 

Alstad. Human nature is frail. That seems to me a sufficient explanationof how such a proposal came to be laid before us. But honestly--for weall ought to be honest!--it seems to me that any material advantageit might bring would be more than counterbalanced by loss of esteem. (Uproar. ) There has been quite a different spirit in the place of lateyears--what with the factories, and the stranger workmen, and the summervisitors. We never used to have so much unrest or to hear so much ofthis talk about "equality. " And now, if we are to give the impressionthat there is only one social class here--and that a third class--Iknow that I shall be by no means alone in feeling offended. We certainlydon't want to sit on our work-people's laps; and, equally, we don't wantto have them sitting on ours. (Sits down. )

Gran. Our friend the Mayor is very fond of talking of his loyalty; but Imust say I am surprised at his dragging the King even into this matter. As for the matter of the railway carriage in which one of so high degreewould travel here--well, if our carriages are not good enough, surelyhis Majesty's private saloon can be used on our line as well as onthe main line. And as for any of us ordinary mortals who are afraid ofmixing with the common herd, surely they can sit together in carriagesby themselves. The carriages would be separate; they would only be ofthe same kind. I think there would be little fear of their being exposedto intrusion on the part of our country-folk. _They_ are much more aptto be more timidly shy than is even desirable. On all small lines--evenon many of the bigger ones--it is the less luxurious carriages, thesecond and third class, that for the cost of the more luxurious ones;it is the third class that pays for the first. But that some passengersshould travel comfortably at the expense of those who travel lesscomfortably, is what we wish to avoid. (Applause. ) An old resident ofthe yeoman class has reproached us with wishing to alter our customs. Well, if one of our old customs is the aristocratic one which makes thegulf that separates masters and men wider than it already is, all I cansay is that the sooner it is abolished the better; for it is not a goodcustom; it is even a dangerous one. (Murmurs. ) And as for the politicalaspect of the question--

Koll. Don't you think we should leave politics out of the question?

Gran (bows, with a laugh). That is just what I was going to say, Mr. Chairman; that we ought to leave politics out out of the question. (Sitsdown, amidst laughter applause. The audience, first the younger men andthen the older farmers, begin arguing the matter with one another, moreand more loudly. )

Koll. I must beg the meeting to keep quiet, as long as this business isunder discussion. The Mayor wishes to speak. 

The Mayor. I admit that I am loyal--

Koll. Those people outside must be quiet!

Alstad (going to the window). You must keep quiet!

The Mayor. I admit I am loyal! I count it a point of honour, as a nativeof the place, to show his Majesty that our first thought when we plannedthis railway was, at that important moment, that his Majesty mightpossibly be pleased to manifest a desire to pay us a visit. "Let him usehis own private saloon, " we are told! No, Mr. Chairman, that is not theway to speak when we are speaking of his Majesty! And what about hisMajesty's suite? Are they to travel third class? What I say is that weare casting a slight on his Majesty if we cast a slight on his railwaycarriage--I should say, on his suite. And I go farther than that. I saythat his Majesty's functionaries are his Majesty's representatives, andthat it is casting an additional slight upon his Majesty not to showa proper respect for them. I know that this jars upon the ears of manypresent; they do not consider that a man who holds a public officeshould be shown any more respect than any one else. The majority rules, and the majority only thinks of its own interests and those of itsservile supporters. But even in this community of ours there is aminority that bears the burden of its affairs and represents its honour;and we will never consent to be dragged down into the mire of this"equality" into which you want to plunge each and every one of us!(Uproar. )

Koll. The honourable speaker appears to me to be trenching uponpolitics--

The Mayor. Possibly I am, Mr. Chairman; but what honest man can shirkthe truth? Only compare the present state of things in this communitywith what was the case when everything here was as it should be; whenthe King and his officials were respected; when public affairs were inthe hands of those who knew how to direct them; when we used to havesinging competitions, shooting competitions, and other festal meetingsof that kind. And--yes--well--compare, I say, the conditions in thosedays with our conditions to-day--that is to say, with all this talk of"the people;" as, for instance--

Koll. It is railway carriages that we are discussing. 

The Mayor. Quite so! But what is it that is at the bottom of thisproposal, Mr. Chairman? Does it not spring from that passion fordestruction, for a universal levelling which aims at abolishing themonarchy, at destroying authority--

The Priest. And the Church too, my friend!

The Mayor. --and the Church, it is quite true! Yes, it is because theydesire the Church and--

Koll. It is railway carriages that we are discussing. 

The Mayor. Exactly. But an old public official like myself, who once washeld in respect, when he sees the pillars of society tottering and feelsthe keenest pang of sorrow at--

Koll. For the last time, it is railway carriages that we are discussing!

The Mayor (overcome by his feelings). I have no more say. (Sits down. )

Koll. Mr. Alstad wishes to speak. 

Alstad (getting up). The question before the meeting is itself a smallmatter; but it is the consequences of it that I fear. We may expect anyproposal of the same kidney now. Never let it be said that our communitywas eager to range itself under this banner of "equality!" It bears tooold and honoured a name for that! But there is one thing I want to say. We have always, before this, felt it an honour and a privilege to havethe richest man in these parts living amongst us. But when we see himone of the most eager in support of a "popular" proposal of this sort, then it appears, to me at all events, to be absolutely unaccountablehow--oh, well, I won't run the risk making what our chairman calls"accusations"; I will sit down and hold my tongue. I have the right todo that at all events. (Sits down. )

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting. 

Flink. Three cheers for Mr. Gran! (Almost the whole meeting cheerslustily. KOLL shouts at them and hammers on the table with his mallet invain. )

Koll (when peace is restored). I must ask the meeting to show somerespect for its chairman. If not, I will leave the chair. --Mr. Gran willaddress the meeting. 

Gran. The plan that we are proposing is no new one. It has been inpractice for a long time. In America--

The Priest, Alstad, and others. Yes, in America!

The Mayor (getting up). Mr. Chairman, are we to have politics, afterall?

Koll. I cannot see that to mention America is to talk politics. 

The Mayor. Then what is politics, if America isn't?

Koll. To talk politics is--for instance--to use the arguments yourworship did. Mr. Gran will proceed. 

Gran. I see that the Priest wishes to speak. I shall be happy to giveway. 

Koll. The Priest will address the meeting. 

The Priest. I see here, in this assembly, a number of those whom I amaccustomed to address in more solemn surroundings. My dearparishioners, it was for your sake that I came here. You have heardfor yourselves--the whole question is a political one; and, dear fellowChristians, let me entreat you to shun politics! Did not our LordHimself say: "My kingdom is not of this world"? This freedom, thisequality, of which they talk is not the soul's freedom, not thatequality which--

Koll. I would suggest to the reverend speaker that he should postponehis remarks until the next time he gets into the pulpit. (Slightlaughter. )

The Priest. One should be instant in season and out of season;therefore--

Koll. I forbid you to continue. 

The Priest. It is written: "Thou shalt obey God rather than man"! Mydear parishioners, let us all leave this meeting! Who will follow hispriest? (Takes a few steps towards the door, but no one follows him. Laughter. He sighs deeply, and sits down again. )

Koll. If no one else wishes to speak--

Vinäger. Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. Vinäger wishes to speak. 

Vinäger. These proceedings remind me of China, and of the Chinesemandarins who will not allow any one of lesser degree to come nearthem--although at moments I have felt as if I were still in Europein the presence of a still greater power, greater even than the GrandTurk--I mean this democratic envy which grudges others what it hasnot got itself. To reconcile both parties I should like to make thefollowing suggestion. Build the carriages, as is often done, in twostories. Then those who wish to ensure their privacy can do so bysitting upstairs; and the others will be satisfied too, because theywill all be in the same carriage after all. (Loud laughter. )

Koll. If no one else wishes to speak (looks at GRAN, who shakes hishead) I shall proceed to put the question to the vote. The motionsubmitted by the directors, which is now before the meeting, is asfollows--

The Mayor. Excuse me, but what of my motion wit h regard to a saloon forhis Majesty?

Koll. I did not understand your worship to mean your suggestion as aformal motion. 

The Mayor. I did, though. 

Koll. Then I will put it to the vote after the director, motion has beenvoted upon. 

The Mayor. A motion that concerns the King should take precedence of allothers. 

Koll. Even the King is subject to the rules of logic. The directors'motion is: "That only one class of railway carriage shall be purchased, of a type slightly more comfortable than the ordinary third-classcarriage. " Will those in favour of the motion kindly go to the left--onthis side of the room; those against the motion, to the right. (Nearlyall go to the left. Cheers are heard outside, and are gradually takenup by those inside. KOLL hammers with his mallet. ) Order, please! (Thecheering ceases, but an animated conversation goes on. ) The directors'motion is carried!

The Mayor (shouting). I am sure every one did not understand the methodof voting!

Koll (hammering with his mallet). Order, order. (Quiet is graduallyrestored. ) What did your worship say?

The Mayor. That some people must have misunderstood the way of voting;because I see my daughter Natalie, who is a shareholder too, on theother side of the room. Of course she has made a mistake. 

Natalie. Oh no, father, I haven't. (Loud laughter, and applause. )

The Priest. Ah, my poor deluded parishioners, I shall pray for you!

The Mayor. Order!--The Mayor's motion--

Alstad. I would suggest that the Mayor should withdraw it. We know whatits fate would be in such a meeting as this. 

Koll. As long as I occupy the chair, I shall not permit any derogatoryexpressions to be applied to the meeting. Does the Mayor still insist onhis motion being put? (Whispers to him: "Say no!")

The Mayor. No. 

Koll. Then, as no one else wishes to speak, I declare the meeting at anend. (Every one begins to move about and discuss affairs vigorously. )

Alstad (to his son VILHELM). So you have the face to vote withthese--these Americans, against your old father, have you?

Vilhelm. Well, father, I honestly think--

Alstad. Just you wait till I get you home!

Vilhelm. Oh, that's it, is it? Then I shan't go home--so there! I shallstay here and get drunk, I shall. 

Alstad. Oh, come, come!

Vilhelm. Yes, I shall! I shall stay here and get drunk!

Alstad. But, Vilhelm, listen to me! (Takes him by the arm. Meantime aSTRANGER has taken KOLL and GRAN by the arm, to their manifest surprise, and brought the forward away from the crowd. He stands for a moment, looking them in the face, till suddenly KOLL gives a start and criesout: "The King!")

The King. Hush!

Gran. It really is--!

The King (to GRAN). You are at home here; take up into a room--and giveus some champagne. My throat is as dry as a lime-kiln!

Curtain

SCENE II

(SCENE. --A room built in Gothic style, comfortably furnished anddecorated with trophies of the chase. GRAN ushers in the KING and KOLL. )

Gran. We can be quite alone here. (ANNA, a deaf and dumb girl of aboutfifteen, brings in some bottles of champagne, and, during the followingdialogue, sets out glasses, refreshments, cigars, and pipes. She isquick and attentive to render the slightest service required of her;when not employed, she sits on a stool in the background. She talks toGRAN on her fingers, and receives orders from him in the same manner. )

The King. Ah, this is like old times! I know the setting: "Gothic roomin mediaeval style, decorated with trophies of the chase. Furnished withan eye to bachelor comfort!" You always had bachelor habits, you know, even when you were quite a boy. (To KOLL. ) We never called him anythingbut "the Bachelor" on board ship. He never had a love affair in all thethree years our cruise lasted; but the rest of us had them in every portwe touched at!

Koll. He is just the same in that respect now. 

Gran (offering the KING some champagne). Allow me!

The King. Thanks; I shall be glad of it. (To KOLL. ) Your health, myformer tutor! (To GRAN. ) And yours! (They drink. ) Ah, that has done megood!--Well now, let me ask you this: isn't it true that, all throughthe meeting, you were talking nothing but republicanism, although youdidn't actually mention the word?

Koll (laughing). You are not far wrong. 

The King. And you, who in the old days were considered to be tooadvanced in your opinions to be retained as my tutor, are now notconsidered advanced enough! They nearly--threw you over, didn't they?

Koll. Yes! That shows you, if I may say so, the result of government bya minority. 

The King. And the result of mixing with such people as our excellentfriend the millionaire here, I suppose?

Gran. It is always a mistake to lay the blame of public opinion onindividuals. 

The King. I quite agree with you. And now it is time you knew the reasonof my coming here--in the strictest incognito, as you see. By the way, Ihope no one recognised me?

Gran and Koll. Not a soul!

(FLINK comes in. )

Flink. Ah, here you are! (Comes forward, rubbing his hands delightedly. )Well, what did you think of the meeting, my boys?

The King (aside to GRAN). Who is that?

Gran (to the KING). We will get rid of him. (To FLINK. ) Look here, oldchap--!

Flink (catching sight of the KING). Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought wewere--

Gran (obliged to introduce him). Let me introduce Mr. --? Mr. --? (Looksat the KING inquiringly. )

The King. Speranza. 

Flink. An Italian?

The King. In name only. 

Gran (completing the introduction). Mr. Flink. 

The King. Surely not A. B. Flink?

Gran. Yes. 

The King (interested). Our peripatetic philosopher? (Shakes hands withhim. ) I have read one or two of your books. 

Flink (laughing). Really?

The King. Are you meditating another expedition?

Flink. That's it. 

The King. And on foot?

Flink. Always on foot. 

The King. Upon my word, I don't believe there is a man in the countrythat can gauge popular opinion as accurately as you! Let us sit down andhave a chat. Do you drink champagne?

Flink. Yes--when I can't get anything better!

The King (lifting his glass to FLINK). Your health, (They all drink, andthen seat themselves. ) What part the country were you in last?

Flink. I have just been shooting with our friend here. 

The King. So he is your friend? He is mine, too! My best friend, eversince I was a boy. (He stretches out his hand; GRAN gets up and graspsit in both of his. )

Koll (to FLINK, who is looking astonished). Mr. Speranza was a navalcadet at the same time as Gran. 

Flink. Really! Were they on the same ship?

The King. Yes, we were on a cruise round the world together--

Flink. Do you mean the time when the Prince went on account of hislungs?--the present King, I mean?

The King. The Prince that afterwards became King--yes. 

Flink. There is quite a royal flavour about our little gathering, then!Here is the King's shipmate, and here is his tutor in jurisprudence--

Koll. You are forgetting yourself! You are the King's tutor's tutor, youknow--

The King. Were you Koll's tutor? Really?

Flink (with a laugh). Yes, I had that misfortune!

The King. You hadn't so great a misfortune in your pupil as he had inhis!

Koll. The King was a very apt pupil. 

Flink (jestingly). He has shown traces of it in his reign, hasn't he!

Koll. Don't speak ill of the King, please. 

Flink (ironically). Heaven forbid! (Takes a pinch of snuff. ) I knowall about his talent--his great talent, his genial talent! (Offers hissnuff-box to the KING. )

Gran. But it was public opinion we were talking about, Flink; is it verymuch like what we heard to-day?

Flink. I wouldn't say that; your opinions are rather advanced in theseparts. 

The King. Is the tendency republican, rather than monarchical?

Flink. That depends how you look at it. The King has just been payingsome visits in the country districts; he is, so to speak, the commercialtraveller for his firm--as all kings and crown princes are. Of course hewas cheered everywhere. But go and ask the agricultural classes ifthey set great store by the pomp and circumstance of royalty; they willunanimously answer: "It costs an infernal lot to keep up!" Ha, ha, ha!

Gran. Your farmer is a realist. 

Flink. A brutal realist! Ha, ha, ha! Self-government is cheaper. He hasit all at his fingers' ends, the scoundrel!

The King. He is not a republican by conviction, then

Flink. Not universally, no. At least, not _yet_. But things are movingthat way; and our reactionary government is helping the movement--that, and the letter they get from America. 

The King. The letters they get from America?

Koll. Letters from their relations in America. 

Gran. There is scarcely a family in the country now that has notrelations in America. 

The King. And they write home about self-government?--about republicanprinciples?

Flink. And republican institutions. That is the situation!

The King. Have you read any of these letters?

Flink. Lots!

The King. This is excellent champagne! (Drinks. )

Gran. Let me fill your glasses. (They all drink. )

Flink. It doesn't really agree with me. 

The King. But suppose the King were to establish democratic government?Suppose he were to live like an ordinary citizen in every way?

Flink. In every way? What do you mean by that?

The King. Kept house like an ordinary citizen--were married like anordinary citizen--were to be found in his office at regular hours likeany other official?

Gran. And had no court, I suppose?

The King. No. (KOLL and GRAN exchange glances. )

Flink (shrugging his shoulders). It would be the last sensation left forhim to try. 

The King (who did not observe his shrug, eagerly). That is so, isn't it?You agree with me as to that? I am delighted to have had this talk withyou, Mr. Flink. 

Flink. The same to you, Mr. --Mr. --. (In an undertone, to KOLL. ) Is he arepublican?

The King (who has overheard him). Am I a republican? I have had toomuch experience not to be! Ha, ha! (Takes up his glass. ) Devilish goodchampagne, this!

Flink (drinking). But, you know, Mr. --Mr. Republican--ha, ha!--(smilesand whispers)--the King simply would not be allowed to do what yousuggest. Ha, ha!

The King. What do you mean?

Gran (aside to KOLL, who gets up). Are you sure this is right?

Koll. It will do him good, anyway, to hear all sides. 

Flink (who has got up and gone to the table on the other side to get apipe). He simply would not be allowed to, poor chap! What is monarchy, I ask you? Nothing more or less than an insurance business in whicha whole crew of priests, officials, noblemen, landed proprietors, merchants and military men hold shares? And, goodness knows, _they_ arenot going to give their director leave to commit any such folly! Ha, ha, ha!

The King (getting up). Ha, ha, ha!

Flink (vociferously, to him). Don't you think that is true?

The King. Good Lord!--perfectly true! Ha, ha ha!

Flink (who has cleaned and filled a pipe, but forgotten to light it, going up to the KING). And what do they insure themselves again, these beauties? (More seriously. ) Against the great mass of thepeople--against _his_ people! (The KING looks at him and makes amovement of dislike. )

Gran. Look here, Flink; suppose we go out into the garden for a little?These spring evenings are so lovely. 

Flink. Compared to a political talk, the loveliest spring evenings haveno attraction for me--no more than warm water, offered me in place offine cooling wine, would have. No, let us stay where we are. What is thematter with this pipe? (ANNA signs that she will put it right for him, but he does not understand. )

Gran. Give her your pipe; she will put it right. 

Koll. What I have always said is that, if the King had an opportunity ofunderstanding the situation, he would interfere. 

Flink. The King? He doesn't care a brass farthing about the wholematter! He has something else to do! Ha, ha!

The King. Ha, ha, ha!

Koll. The King is an unusually gifted man; he would not remainindifferent in the long run. 

Flink. He has so many unusual gifts that have gone to the devil--!

The King. Tralalla! Tralalalalala! Tralala! It feels quite odd to bewith you fellows again! (Drinks. )

Flink (in an undertone, to GRAN). Is he drunk?

The King (sitting down). Give me a cigar--! And let us discuss thematter a little more seriously. (KOLL and GRAN sit down. )

Gran. As a matter of fact, it is not a thing that can be discussed. It must be tried. If, one day, the King were to say: "I mean to livea natural life among my people, and to withdraw my name from theold-established royal firm, which has lost all its reputation forhonesty"--that day everything else would follow of itself. 

Flink. Yes, that day, I dare say!

Gran. Remember you are the guest of a man who is a friend of the King's!

The King. Don't play the domestic despot--you who are a republican! Letus have free discussion!

Flink. I certainly don't intend to insult the King. He has never done meany harm. But surely you will allow me to doubt whether he is really theshining light you make him out to be?

The King. That is true enough!

Flink (eagerly). You agree with me as to that, then?

The King. Absolutely! But--leaving him out of the question--suppose we_had_ a king who made himself independent of others, and, as a necessaryconsequence, rose superior to questions of party--?

Flink (interrupting him). It is a vain supposition, my dear fellow! Aking bound to no party? (Puffs at his pipe. ) It wouldn't work!(Puffs again. ) It wouldn't work!--It wouldn't work!--Falsehood is thefoundation of constitutional monarchy. A king superior to questions ofparty? Rubbish!

Gran. It would be expecting something superhuman of him, too. 

Flink. Of course it would!

The King. But the president of a republic is even less independent ofparty, isn't he?

Flink (turning to hint). He doesn't make any pretence that he isn't. Haha! That's the difference! (Comes forward, repeating to himself. ) Itis the falsehood that makes the difference. 

Koll. Oh, there are falsehoods enough in republics too, unfortunately!

Flink. I know; but they are not old-established institutions! Ha, ha!

The King. That is an idea you have got from Professor Ernst's writings. 

Flink (eagerly). Have you read them?

The King. I have scarcely read anything else for the last few months. (KOLL and GRAN exchange glances. )

Flink. Indeed?--Then there is no need for me to say anything more. 

Koll. But, after all this talk, we have got no further. Our friend(pointing to the KING) wants to know, I think, whether a real, seriousattempt at what one might call "democratic monarchy" could not reckon onbeing understood and supported--

The King (breaking in, eagerly). Yes, that's just it!

Koll. --understood and supported by the most enlightened section of thepeople, who are weary of falsehood and long for a generous but securemeasure of self-government. 

The King. That's just it!

Flink (who was just going to sit down, jumps up again, lays downhis pipe and stands with arms akimbo, as he says:) But what sort ofridiculous ideas are these? Aren't you republicans, then?

Koll. I am not. 

Gran. I am; but that does not prevent my being of opinion that thechange of government should be made gradually and gently--

Flink. That would be treason!

Gran. Treason!

Flink. Treason against the truth--against our convictions!

Koll. Don't let us use big words! Monarchy is strongly rooted in theexisting order of things. 

Flink (with a laugh). In the insurance company!

Koll. Well, call it so if you like. It _exists_; that is the point. And, since it exists, we must make it as honest and as serviceable as we can. 

The King. Your health, Koll! (Drinks to him. )

Flink (moving away from them). No true republican would agree with you. 

Gran. You are wrong there. (FLINK gives a start of surprise. )

The King (who has seen FLINK's surprise, gets up). Listen to me! Supposewe had a king who said: "Either you help me to establish a democraticmonarchy--purged of all traces of absolutism, purged of falsehood--orelse I abdicate--"

Flink. Bah!

The King. I only say, "suppose"! You know quite well that the cousin ofthe present king, the heir apparent, is a bigoted--

Koll (who has been exchanging glances with GRAN while the KING wasspeaking, breaks in hurriedly). Don't go on!

The King (with a laugh). I won't!--And his mother, who rules him--

Flink. --is even worse!

The King. What would be your choice, then? Would you help the king toestablish a democratic monarchy or--?

Flink (impetuously). I would ten thousand times rather have the bigotedprince, with all his own and his mother's follies!--the madder thebetter!

Gran. No, no, no, no!

The King (to GRAN and KOLL). We see his true colours now! (Moves awayfrom them. )

Koll (to FLINK). That is the way you republicans always ride yourprinciples to death. 

Gran. Patriotism ought to come before--

Flink. --before truth? No; a short sharp pang of agony is better thanendless doubt and falsehood, my friend! That is true patriotism. 

Koll. Oh, these theories!--these phrases!

Gran. I am a republican as well as you, and, I think, as sincere a one. But I should have no hesitation--

Flink. --in playing the traitor?

Gran. Why do you use such words as that?

Flink. Words! Do you think it is nothing but words? No, my friend, ifyou did what--what I did not allow you to say--I should come here oneday to call you to account. And if you refused to fight me, I shouldshoot you like a dog!

Gran (gently). You would not do that. 

Flink (heatedly). Not do it?--Have I given you the deepest affection ofwhich my heart is capable, only for you to turn traitor to it? Am Ito see the man whose character is the crowning achievement of my life, betraying our cause--and, by reason of his great personalprestige, dragging thousands down with him? On the head of all thedisillusionments I have suffered, am I to have this one in the eveningof my life--? (Stops, overcome by his emotion. A pause. ) You shouldn'tjest about such things you know. (Walks away. ANNA has placed herself infront of GRAN, as if to protect him. )

Koll. I think we had better change the subject, and go out for a little!

The King (aside, to him). Yes, get him away!

Flink (in the background, as if he were addressing an invisibleaudience). We must have discipline in the ranks!

Koll. Gran, ask your maid to hurry up with the supper. 

Gran. Yes, I will. 

Koll (to the KING). What do you say to a turn in the garden, meanwhile?

The King. By all means!

Flink (coming forward to GRAN). This friendship of yours with theKing--to which I had attached no particular importance--I hope it hasnot altogether--(Stops short. )

Gran. --not altogether corrupted me, you mean?

Flink. Exactly. 

The King (laughing). Politically?

Flink. Politics are not unconnected with morals, sir!

The King. But why get so heated, sir? We know that the present King isa--

Koll (breaking in hurriedly). Don't say any more!

The King (with a laugh). You said yourself that he doesn't care a brassfarthing about the whole matter--he has something else to do! And so thewhole thing ends in smoke!

Flink (more amiably). I dare say you are right. 

The King. Of course I am. You are all agreed that, under his rule, republican sentiments are growing in real earnest. 

Flink. You are right! He couldn't help things on better if he were arepublican himself, I assure you!

The King. Perhaps he _is_ a republican?

Flink (animatedly). Perhaps he _is_! Splendid! And works against his owninterests--!

The King. A sort of commercial traveller working for the downfall of hisown firm!

Flink (excitedly). For the downfall of his own firm! Splendid! Propsup his reactionary rule by means of royal pronouncements, confidentialcommunications, public speeches--

The King. --in a suicidal manner!

Flink. Splendidly suicidal! Ah, that makes you laugh, does it?

Koll. Hush, some one might hear us!

Flink. I don't care who hears us! (The KING bursts out laughing. ) Butyou ought, as one of the King's officials, to stop _his_ laughing!(Points to the KING. ) It's shocking!--It's high treason!

Koll. Listen to me!

Flink. You ought to arrest him for laughing like that! Suppose theKing--

Gran. That _is_ the King! (The KING goes on laughing. FLINK looks fromhim to the others, and from the others to him. )

The King. This is too much for me! (Sits down. FLINK rushes out. )

Koll. That was very bad of you. 

The King. I know it was; but forgive me! I couldn't help it! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Koll. For all his queer ways, he is too good a fellow to be made a foolof. 

The King. Yes, scold me; I deserve it. But, all the same--ha, ha, ha, ha!

Gran. Hush!--he is coming back. (The KING gets up as FLINK comes inagain. )

Flink. Your Majesty may be assured that I would never have expressedmyself as I did in your Majesty's presence if I had been fairly treatedand told whom I was addressing. 

The King. I know. The fault is mine alone. 

Flink. The fault is that of others--my so-called friends. 

The King (earnestly). By no means! It is mine--mine alone. I have had ascolding for it!--And in your presence I ask my friends' pardon; I haveput them in a false position. And, in the next place, I ask for yourforgiveness. My sense of humour got the better of me. (Laughs again. )

Flink. Yes, it was extremely amusing. 

The King. It really was! And, after all, what have you to complain of?You had an opportunity of speaking your mind, any way!

Flink. I certainly did!

The King. Very well, then!--And when you wanted to show any respect, _I_prevented you. So I think we are quits. 

Flink. No, we are not. 

The King (impatiently). Indeed?--What do you want from me, then?

Flink (proudly). Nothing!

The King. I beg your pardon! I did not mean to offend you. 

Flink. You have done so to a degree that you are naturally incapable ofappreciating. (Goes out. )

The King. This is a nice business! (Laughs. Then notices GRAN, who isstanding at his desk with his back to the KING, and goes up to him. ) Youare angry with me. 

Gran (looking up slowly). Yes. 

The King. Why didn't you stop me?

Gran. It all happened too quickly. But to think that you could have theheart to do it--in my own house--to a man who was my father's oldestfriend, and is mine--!

The King. Harald! (Puts his arm round his shoulders. ) Have I ever askedyou for anything that you have not given me?

Gran. No. 

The King. Then I ask you now to admit that you know that, if I hadthought this would hurt you, I would never have done it--not for worlds!Do you still believe as well of me as that?

Gran. Yes. 

The King. Thank you. Then I will admit to you, in return, that formonths past I have lived in a state of horrible tension of mind; andthat is why I jump too easily from one extreme to the other. So, myfriends, you must forgive me! Or finish my scolding some other time!Because now I must talk to you of the matter which induced me to comehere. You are the only ones I can turn to; so be good to me!--Shall wesit down again?

Koll. As you please. 

The King (moving towards the table). I know you both want to ask me thesame question: why I have never come before now. My answer is: becauseI have only now arrived at a clear conception of my own position. Somemonths ago some hard words that were used to me lit a fire in my heartand burnt out a heap of rubbish that had collected there. (ANNA fillstheir glasses. ) Won't you send that girl away?

Gran. She is deaf and dumb. 

The King. Poor girl! (Sits down. ) When I came back from my cruise roundthe world, the old king was dead. My father had come to the throne, andI was crown prince, and I went with my father to the cathedral to attenda thanksgiving service for my safe return. 

Gran. I was there. 

The King. The whole thing was a novelty to me, and a solemn one. I wasovercome with emotion. Seeing that, my father whispered to me: "Comefarther forward, my boy! The people must see their future king praying. "That finished it! I was not born to be a king; my soul was still toounsullied, and I spurned such falsehood with the deepest loathing. Justthink of it!--to come back from three years at sea, and begin my life inthat way--as if perpetually in front of a mirror! I won't dwell on it. But when my father died and I became king, I had become so accustomed tothe atmosphere of falsehood I lived in that I no longer recognisedtruth when I saw it. The constitution prescribed my religion for me--andnaturally I had none. And it was the same with everything--one thingafter another! What else could you expect? The only tutor I valued--you, Koll--had been dismissed; they considered you to be too freethinking. 

Koll (smilingly). Oh, yes!

The King. The only real friend that dated from my happier days--you, Harald, had been sent to the right about; you were a republican. It waswhile I was in despair over that loss that I fell really in love for thefirst time--with your sister, Harald. Banishment, again. What then?Why, then the craving that every healthy youth feels--the desire forlove--was turned into dissolute channels. (Drinks. )

Gran. I understand, well enough. 

The King. Well, put all those things together. That was what my lifewas--until just lately. Because lately something happened, my dearfriends. And now you must help me! Because, to make a long story short, either I mean to be the chief official in my country in a peaceful, citizenlike, genuine way, or--as God is above me--I will no longer beking! (Gets up, and the others do so. )

Koll. Ah, we have got it at last!

The King. Do you think I don't know that our republican friend therespoke what is every thoughtful man's verdict upon me? (They are silent. )But how could I possibly undertake my task, as long as I believedeverything to be make-believe and falsehood, without exception? Now Iknow the root of the falsehood! It is in our institutions; he was quiteright. And one kind of falsehood begets another. You cannot imagine howludicrous it appeared to me--who up till then had led such a sinful, miserable existence--when I saw honourable men pretending that I was abeing of some superior mould! I! (Walks up and down, then stops. ) It isthe state--our institutions--that demand this falsehood both on theirpart and on mine. And that for the security and happiness of thecountry! (Moves about restlessly. ) From the time I became crown princethey kept from me everything that might have instilled truth intome--friendship, love, religion, a vocation--for my vocation is quiteanother one; and it was all done in the name of my country! And nowthat I am king, they take away all responsibility from me as well--allresponsibility for my own acts--the system demands it! Instead of anindividual, what sort of a contemptible creature do they make of me! Thekingly power, too?--that is in the hands of the people's representativesand the government. I don't complain of that; but what I do complain ofis that they should pretend that _I_ have it, and that everything shouldbe done in _my_ name; that I should be the recipient of petitions, cheers, acclamations, obeisances--as if the whole power andresponsibility were centred in _my_ person! In me--from whom, in theinterests of all, they have taken away everything! Is that not a pitifuland ludicrous falsehood? And, to make it credible, they endow me intothe bargain with a halo of sanctity! "The King is sacred;" "Our MostGracious Sovereign, " "Your Majesty!" It becomes almost blasphemous!

Gran. Quite true. 

The King. No, if that cannot be done away with, I can do away withmyself. But it must be possible to do away with it! It cannot benecessary for a people, who are marching on the eternal path towardstruth, to have a lie marching at the head of them!

Koll. No, it is not necessary. 

The King (eagerly). And that is what you will help me to show them. 

Koll. I have no objection! There is life in the country yet!

The King (to Gran). And you, my friend? Are you afraid of being shot bya mad republican if you help me?

Gran. I am not particularly afraid of death, any way. But the maid istelling us that supper is served. 

The King. Yes, let us have supper!

Koll. And then, to our task!

Curtain

ACT II

(SCENE. --A park with old lofty trees. In the foreground, to the right, an arbour with a seat. The KING is sitting, talking to BANG, who is aman of gross corpulence. )

Bang. And I felt so well in every way that, I assure your Majesty, Iused to feel it a pleasure to be alive. 

The King (drawing patterns in the dust with his walking stick). I canquite believe it. 

Bang. And then I was attacked by this pain in my heart and thisdifficulty in breathing. I run round and round this park, on an emptystomach, till I am absolutely exhausted. 

The King (absently). Couldn't you drive round, then?

Bang. Drive?--But it is the exercise, your Majesty, that--

The King. Of course. I was thinking of something else. 

Bang. I would not mind betting that I know what your Majesty wasthinking of--if I may say so without impertinence. 

The King. What was it, then?

Bang. Your Majesty was thinking of the socialists!

The King. Of the--?

Bang. The socialists!

The King (looking amused). Why particularly of them?

Bang. I was right, you see! Ha, ha, ha! (His laughter brings on aviolent fit of coughing. ) Your Majesty must excuse me; laughing alwaysbrings on my cough. --But, you know, the papers this morning are full oftheir goings on!

The King. I have not read the paper. 

Bang. Then I can assure your Majesty that the way they are going on isdreadful. And just when we were all getting on so comfortably! What inthe world do they want?

The King. Probably they want to get on comfortably too. 

Bang. Aren't they well off as it is, the beasts? Excuse me, yourMajesty, for losing my temper in your Majesty's presence. 

The King. Don't mention it. 

Bang. You are very good. These strikes, too--what is the object of them?To make every one poor? Every one can't be rich. However, I pin my faithto a strong monarchy. Your Majesty is the padlock on my cash-box!

The King. I am what?

Bang. The padlock on my cash-box! A figure of speech I ventured to applyto your Majesty. 

The King. I am much obliged!

Bang. Heaven help us if the liberals come into power; their aim is toweaken the monarchy. 

(A BEGGAR BOY comes up to them. )

Beggar Boy. Please, kind gentlemen, spare a penny! I've had nothing toeat to-day!

Bang (taking no notice of him). Aren't there whispers of the sort about?But of course it can't be true. 

Beggar Boy (pertinaciously). Please, kind gentlemen, spare a penny! I'vehad nothing to eat to-day. 

Bang. You have no right to beg. 

The King. You have only the right to starve, my boy! Here! (Gives hima gold coin. The BEGGAR Boy backs away from him, staring at him, andgripping the coin in his fist. )

Bang. He never even thanked you! Probably the son of a socialist!--Iwould never have opened this park to every one in the way your Majestyhas done. 

The King. It saves the work-people a quarter of am hour if they can gothrough it to get to their work. 

(The GENERAL appears, driving the BEGGAR BOY before him with his stick. )

The General (to the BEGGAR). A gentleman sitting on a seat gave it you?Point him out to me, then!

Bang (getting up). Good morning, your Majesty!

The King. Good morning! (Looks at his watch. )

The General. That gentleman, do you say?

The King (looking up). What is it?

The General. Your Majesty? Allow me to welcome you back!

The King. Thank you. 

The General. Excuse me, sir; but I saw this fellow with a gold coin inhis hand, and stopped him. He says your Majesty gave it to him--?

The King. It is quite true. 

The General. Oh--of course that alters the case! (To the BEGGAR. ) It isthe King. Have you thanked him? (The boy stands still, staring at theKING. )

The King. Are you taking a morning walk on an empty stomach because of aweak heart, too?

The General. Because of my stomach, sir--because of my stomach! It hasstruck work!

The Beggar Boy. Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! (Runs away. )

The General. I am astonished at your Majesty's having thrown this parkopen to every one. 

The King. It saves the work-people a quarter of an hour if they cango through it to get to their work. --Well, General, it seems you havebecome religious all of a sudden?

The General. Ha, ha, ha! Your Majesty has read my Order of the Day, then?

The King. Yes. 

The General (confidentially). Well, sir, you see things couldn't go onany longer as they were. (Whispers. ) Debauchery in the ranks! I won'tsay anything about the officers; but when the men take to such coursesopenly--!

The King. Oho!

The General. My brother the bishop and I, between us, composed an Orderof the Day on the subject of the necessity of religion--religion as thebasis of discipline. 

The King. As a matter of fact the bishop was the first person I met hereto-day. --Is he suffering from a disordered stomach, too?

The General. More so than any of us, Sir! Ha, ha, ha! (The KING motionsto him to sit down. ) Thank you, Sir. --But, apart from that, I have hadit in my mind for some time that in these troublous days there ought tobe a closer co-operation between the Army and the Church--

The King. In the matter of digestion, do you mean?

The General. Ha, ha, ha!--But seriously, Sir, the time is approachingwhen such a co-operation will be the only safeguard of the throne. 

The King. Indeed?

The General (hurriedly). That is to say, of course, the throne standsfirm by itself--God forbid I should hint otherwise! But what I mean isthat it is the Army ants the Church that must supply the monarchy withthe necessary splendour and authority--

The King. I suppose, then, that the monarchy has no longer any of itsown?

The General (jumping up). Heaven forbid that I should say such a thing!I would give my life in support of the monarchy!

The King. You will have to die some day, unfortunately (Laughs as hegets up. ) Who is that coming this way?

The General (putting up his eyeglass). That? It is the Princess andCountess L'Estoque, Sir. 

The King. Is the Princess suffering from indigestion too?

The General (confidentially). I fancy your Majesty knows best what thePrincess is suffering from. (The KING moves away from him. ) I made amess of that! It comes of my trying to be too clever. --He is walkingtowards her. Perhaps there is something in it, after all? I must tellFalbe about it. (Turns to go. ) Confound it, he saw that I was watchingthem! (Goes out. The KING returns to the arbour with the PRINCESS on hisarm. The COUNTESS and one of the royal servants are seen crossing thepark in the background. )

The Princess. This is a most surprising meeting! When did your Majestyreturn?

The King. Last night. --You look very charming, Princess! Such blushingcheeks!--and so early in the morning!

The Princess. I suppose you think it is rouge?--No, Sir, it is nothingbut pleasure at meeting you. 

The King. Flatterer! And I went pale at the sight of you. 

The Princess. Perhaps your conscience--?

The King. I am sorry to say my conscience had nothing to do with it. Butthis morning I have been meeting so many people that are suffering fromindigestion that, when I saw your Highness walking quickly along--

The Princess. Make your mind easy! My reason for my morning walk is tokeep my fat down. Later in the day I ride--for the same reason. I livefor nothing else now. 

The King. It is a sacred vocation!

The Princess. Because it is a royal one?

The King. Do you attribute your sanctity to me? Wicked Princess!

The Princess. Both my sanctity and any good fortune I enjoy. Itis nothing but my relationship to your Majesty that induces thetradespeople to give me unlimited credit. 

The King. You don't feel any awkwardness about it, then?

The Princess. Not a bit! The good folk have to maintain many worseparasites than me!--By the way, talking of parasites, is it true thatyou have pensioned off all your lords-in-waiting and their hangers-on?

The King. Yes. 

The Princess. Ha, ha, ha! But why did you make the special stipulationthat they should live in Switzerland?

The King. Because there is no court in Switzerland, and--

The Princess. And so they could not fall into temptation again! I havehad many a good laugh at the thought of it. But it has its serious sidetoo, you know; because your Majesty cannot dispense with a court. 

The King. Why not?

The Princess. Well, suppose some day you are "joined in the bonds ofholy matrimony, " as the parsons so beautifully put it?

The King. If I were, it would be for the sake of knowing what familylife is. 

The Princess. Like any other citizen?

The King. Precisely. 

The Princess. Are you going to keep no servants?

The King. As many as are necessary--but no more. 

The Princess. Then I must secure a place as chambermaid in yourMajesty's household as soon as possible. Because if my financialcircumstances are inquired into there will be nothing else left for mebut that!

The King. You have too sacred a vocation for that, Princess!

The Princess. How pretty! Your Majesty is a poet, and poets are allowedto be enthusiastic about ideals. But the people are poets too, in theirway; they like their figure-head to be well gilded, and don't mindpaying for it. That is their poetry. 

The King. Are you certain of that?

The Princess. Absolutely certain! It is a point of honour with them. 

The King. Then I have to weigh my honour against theirs! And my honourforbids me--for the honour of my people and their poetry--to keep up mypalaces, my guards, and my court any longer! _Voilà tout_!

The Princess. My dear King, certain positions carry with them certainduties!

The King. Then I know higher duties than those!--But, Princess, here arewe two seriously discussing--

The Princess. Yes, but there is something at the bottom of it that isnot to be laughed away. All tradition and all experience proclaim it tobe the truth that a king--the kingly majesty--should be a dignity apart;and should be the ultimate source of law, surrounded with pomp andcircumstance, and secure behind the fortified walls of wealth, rank, and hereditary nobility. If he steps out of that magic circle, the law'sauthority is weakened. 

The King. Has your Royal Highness breakfasted yet?

The Princess. No. (Bursts out laughing. )

The King. Because, if you had, I should have had great pleasure isgiving you a lesson in history; but on an empty stomach that would becruel. 

The Princess. Do you know--you used to be such an entertaining king, butthis last year you have become so tedious!

The King. Most beautiful of princesses! Do you really mean to say thatI rise and fall in your estimation according as I have my pretty royalgew-gaws on or not?

The Princess. In my estimation?

The King. Or in any one's? You know the story of "The Emperor's NewClothes"?

The Princess. Yes. 

The King. We don't keep up that pretence any longer. 

The Princess. But will every one understand?

The King. You understand, don't you?

The Princess. The people or I--that is all the same, I suppose! You arevery flattering. 

The King. Heaven forbid that I should lump your Royal Highness togetherwith the common herd; but--

The Princess. We have already had proof of the fact that your Majestydoes not hold the same place in _every one's_ estimation that you do inmine, at all events!

The King. If I occupy a place of honour in your Royal Highness's heart, your Royal Highness may be certain that--

The Princess. I will interrupt you to save you from speaking an untruth!Because the way to attain to a place of honour in your Majesty's heartis not to admire you as I do, but, on the contrary, to shout out: "Idespise you!"--Au revoir!

The King. You wicked, terrifying, dangerous--

The Princess. --omniscient and ubiquitous Princess! (Makes a deepcurtsey, and goes away. )

The King (calling after her). In spite of everything, my heart goes withyou--

The Princess. --to show me the door! I know all about that! (To theCOUNTESS. ) Come, Countess! (Goes out. FALBE, an old gentleman incivilian dress, has come in from the side to which the KING'S back isturned. )

The King. How the devil did she--?

Falbe (coming up behind him). Your Majesty!

The King (turning quickly). Ah, there you are!

Falbe. Yes, sir--we have been walking about in the park for some time;your Majesty was engaged. 

The King. Not engaged--I was only deadening thoughts by gossiping. Myanxiety was too much for me. So they have come?--both of them?

Falbe. Both of them. 

The King. Can I believe it! (Appears overcome. ) But--you must wait amoment! I can't, just at this moment--. I don't know what has come overme!

Falbe. Are you unwell, sir? You look so pale. 

The King My nerves are not what they should be. Is there any water nearhere?

Falbe (pointing, in astonishment). Why, there is the fountain, Sir!

The King. Of course! Of course!--I don't seem able to collect mythoughts. And my mouth is as dry as--. Look here, I am going that way(points); and then you can--you can bring the ladies here. --She is here!She is here! (Goes out to the left, and turns round as he goes. ) Don'tforget to lock the gates of the inner park!

Falbe. Of course not, Sir. (Goes out to the right, and returns bringingin the BARONESS MARC and CLARA. ) His Majesty will be here in a moment. (Goes out to the right. )

Clara. You must stay near enough for me to be able to call you. 

Baroness. Of course, my dear. Compose yourself; nothing can happen. 

Clara. I am so frightened. 

Baroness. Here is the King! (The KING comes in and bows to them. )

The King. Excuse me, ladies, for having kept you waiting. I am verygrateful to you both for coming. 

Baroness. We only came upon your Majesty's solemn promise--

The King. --which shall be inviolable. 

Baroness. I understand that you wish to speak to Miss Ernst alone?

The King. Your ladyship need only go up to the top of that little slope. (Points. ) I can recommend the view from there. 

Baroness. The interview will not be a long one, I suppose?

The King. If it is, I give your ladyship permission to come andinterrupt us. (The BARONESS goes out. The KING turns to CLARA. ) May I bepermitted to thank you again--you especially--for having been so good asto grant me this interview?

Clara. It will be the only one. 

The King. I know that. You have not condescended to answer one of myletters--

Clara. I have not read them. 

The King. --so there was nothing left for me but to address myself to theBaroness. She was _obliged_ to listen to me, Miss Ernst. 

Clara (trembling). What has your Majesty to say to me?

The King. Indeed, I can't tell it you in a single sentence. Won't yousit down? (CLARA remains standing. ) You must not be afraid of me. I meanyou no harm; I never could mean you any harm. 

Clara (in tears). Then what do you call the persecution that I haveendured for more than a year?

The King. If you had condescended to read a single one of my long andmany letters you would have known I call it a passion that is strongerthan--. (CLARA turns to go. The KING continues anxiously. ) No, MissErnst, by everything you hold dear, I beg you not to leave me!

Clara. Then you must not insult me!

The King. If that is an insult your terms are very hard. 

Clara. Hard? No, but what you have done to me is hard! (Bursts intotears. )

The King. Don't cry, Miss Ernst! You don't know how you hurt me!

Clara (angrily). Do you know what it means to try and ruin a younggirl's reputation?

The King. I repeat that you are doing me an injustice

Clara. An injustice?--Good God! Do you know who I am?

The King (taking of his hat respectfully). You are the woman I love. 

Clara (quietly and with dignity). Your Majesty has solemnly promised notto insult me. 

The King. As sure as there is a heaven above us I will not, and couldnot, insult you! But I will obey your wishes. 

Clara. When a king says such a thing as--as you did just now, to a poorlittle governess, it is more than an insult! It is so cowardly, so base!And to think that you could have the heart to do it after what you havedone to my father!

The King. Your father?--I?

Clara. Do you really not know who I am?

The King I don't understand--

Clara. Whose daughter I am, I mean?

The King. I only know that your father's name is Ernst. (Suddenly. )Surely your father is not--?

Clara. Professor Ernst. 

The King. The republican?

Clara (slowly). Yes. (A pause. ) I may remind your Majesty that he wassentenced for high treason. And why? Because he warned the young men atthe university against the bad example set by the King! (A pause. )He was sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. In escaping fromhis prison he broke both his legs; and now he lives in exile--acripple--supported by what money I am able to earn. (A pause. ) You haveruined his life--and now you are trying to ruin mine too!

The King. I beg of you--!

Clara. I am ashamed of my tears. It is not compassion for myself or formy father that makes them flow; it is the heartless injustice of it allthat overcomes me. 

The King. God knows, if only I could atone for the injustice--! But whatcan I do?

Clara. You can let me alone, so that I may do my work in peace; that iswhat you can do! Neither he nor I ask for more than that--of you!

The King. I must do more than that!

Clara. No! Can you not understand that a girl who is persecuted by theking's attentions cannot be a governess? All you will achieve will be torob me and my father of our bread!--Oh, God!

The King. But my intention is not to--

Clara (interrupting him). And you are not even man enough to be ashamedof yourself!

The King. Yes, you may say what you please to me!

Clara. I have nothing more to say to you. I have said what I have tosay. (Turns to go. )

The King. No, don't go! You have not even heard me yet. You don't evenknow what I want to beg of you!

Clara. My dishonour. 

The King (vehemently). You misunderstand me utterly! If you had onlyread a single one of my letters you would have known that there isstanding before you a man whom you have humbled. Ah, don't look soincredulous! It is true, if there is any truth in anything. You don'tbelieve me? (Despairingly. ) How am I to--! A man who has risked yourcontempt for more than a year, and has been faithful to you without evenbeing allowed to see you or exchange a word with you--who has had nothought for anything or any one else--is not likely to be doing that outof mere idleness of heart! Do you not believe that, either?

Clara. No. 

The King. Well, then, there must surely be some general truths that you, as Ernst's daughter, cannot refuse to believe! Let me ask you if you canunderstand how a man becomes what I was at the time when I repeatedlyinsulted you. You must know, from your father's books, in what anunnatural atmosphere a king is brought up, the soul-destroying sense ofself-importance which all his surroundings foster, until, even inhis dreams, he thinks himself something more than human; the doubtfulchannels into which his thoughts are forced, while any virtues that hehas are trumpeted abroad, and his vices glossed over with tactful andhumorous tolerance. Don't you think that a young king, full of eagerlife, as I was, may plead something in excuse of himself that no otherman can?

Clara. Yes, I admit that. 

The King. Then you must admit that the very position he has to assume asa constitutional monarch is an acted lie. Think what a king's vocationis; _can_ a vocation of that sort be hereditary? Can the finest andnoblest vocation in the world be that?

Clara. No!

The King. Then suppose that he realises that himself; suppose that theyoung king is conscious, however dimly and partially, of the lie he isliving--and suppose that, to escape from it, he rushes into a life ofpleasure. Is it not conceivable that he may have some good in him, forall that? And then suppose that one morning, after a night of revelling, the sun shines into his room; and he seems to see upon the wall, inletters of fire, some words that were said to him the night before--truewords (CLARA looks up at him in surprise)--the words: "I despise you!"(CLARA gives a start. ) Words like that can burn out falsehood. And he, to whom they are said, may long to hear again the tones of the voicethat spoke them. No man has ever hated what has given him new life. Ifyou had read a single one of the letters which I felt impelled to writeeven if they were refused acceptance--you would not have called itpersecution. (CLARA does not answer. ) And, as for my persecution of yourfather--I am not going to make any excuses for myself; I will onlyask you to remember that a king has no control over the law and itsjudgments. I feel the sincerest respect for your father. 

Clara. Thank you. 

The King. And it is just part of the falsehood I was speaking of, thathe should be condemned for saying of me what I have said a thousandtimes of myself!

Clara (softly). Dare I believe that?

The King. Ah, if only you had read one of my letters! Or even the littlebook of poems I sent you last! I thought that, if you would not receivemy letters, perhaps a book--

Clara. I do not accept anonymous gifts. 

The King. I see you are on your guard--although I don't admit that thepoems were mine! May I read it to you?

Clara. I don't understand--. 

The King. One that I marked--for you. It will prove to you what yourefuse to believe. 

Clara. But if the poem is not yours?

The King. The fact that I have marked it shows that its sentiments applyto me. Will you let me read it to you? (CLARA looks up. ) Do not be toomuch surprised, Miss Ernst! (Takes a slim volume from his pocket. ) Ifound this somewhere. (Turns over the leaves. ) It won't take long toread. May I?

Clara. If only I understood--

The King. --why I want to read it? Simply for the reason that you haveforbidden me to speak to you--or to write to you; but not, as yet, toread to you! (CLARA smiles. A pause. ) Do you know--a little event hasjust happened in my life?--and yet not such a little one, after all!

Clara. What is that?

The King. I have seen you smile for the first time. 

Clara. Your Majesty!

The King. But, Miss Ernst, is it an insult, too, to see you smile?

Clara (smiling). If I consent to hear the poem, shall not the Baroness--

The King. --hear it also? With pleasure; but not at the same time!Please! Because I am a very bad reader. You can show it to the Baronessafterwards, if you like. (CLARA smiles. ) May I?

Clara. You are sure there is nothing in it that--

The King. You can interrupt me, if you think fit. It is called "TheYoung Prince;" and it is about--no, I won't tell you what it is aboutunless you will be so good as to sit down, so that I can sit downtoo. If I stand up I shall be sure to begin declaiming, and I do thatshockingly badly!--You can get up again when you like, you know! (CLARAsmiles and sits down. The KING sits down beside her. ) Now, then! "TheYoung Prince. " (To himself. ) I can scarcely breathe. (He begins toread. )

 Full fed with early flattery and pride--

(Breaks off. ) Excuse me, Miss Ernst! I don't feel--

Clara. Is your Majesty not well?

The King. Quite well! It is only--. Now, then!

 Full fed with early flattery and pride, His sated soul was wearied all too young; Honour and kingly pomp seemed naught to him But whimsies from the people's folly sprung. 

 From such pretence he fled to what was real-- Fair women's arms, laughter and love and pleasure, All the mad joy of life; whate'er he craved, He found was given him in double measure. 

 Whate'er he craved--until one day a maiden To whom he whispered, like a drunken sot, "I'd give my life to make thee mine, my sweeting!" Turned from him silently and answered not. 

 He sought by every means to win her to him; But when his love with cold _contempt_ was met, It was as if a judgment had been spoken Upon his life, and doom thereon were set. 

 His boon companions left him; in his castles None seemed to be awake but he alone, Racked with remorse, enshrouded in the darkness Of dull despair, yet longing to atone. 

 Then through the darkness she appeared! and humbly, Emboldend by her gentleness of mien, He sued once more: "If only thou wouldst listen! If still 'twere not too late--"

(His emotion overcomes him, and he stops suddenly, gets up, and walksaway from CLARA. She gets up, as he comes back to her. ) Excuse me! I hadno intention of making a scene. But it made me think of--. (Breaks ofagain overcome by emotion, and moves a little way from her. There is apause as he collects himself before returning to her. ) As you can hear, Miss Ernst, it is nothing much of a poem--not written by a real poet, that is to say; a real poet would have exalted his theme, but this is acommonplace--

Clara. Has your Majesty anything more to say to me? (A pause. )

The King. If I have anything more to say to any one, it is to you. 

Clara. I beg your pardon. 

The King. No, it is I should beg yours. But I am sure you do not wish meto lie to you. 

Clara (turning her head away). No. 

The King. You have no confidence in me. (Control, his emotion. ) Will youever, I wonder, come to under stand that the only thing I crave for nowis--one person's confidence!

Clara. Any one who speaks as your Majesty has done to-day surely cravesfor more than that. 

The King. More than that, yes; but, first of all, one person'sconfidence. 

Clara (turning away). I don't understand--

The King (interrupting her, with emotion). Your life has not been asempty and artificial as mine. 

Clara. But surely you have your task here to fill it with?

The King. I remember reading once about the way a rock was undermined, and the mine filled with gunpowder with an electric wire leading toit. Just a slight pressure on a little button and the great rock wasshattered into a thousand pieces. And in the same way everything isready here; but the little pressure--to cause the explosion--is what Iam waiting for!

Clara. The metaphor is a little forced. 

The King. And yet it came into my mind as unconsciously as you brokeoff that twig just now. If I do not get what I lack, nothing can beaccomplished--there can be no explosion! I shall abandon the whole thingand let myself go under. 

Clara. Go under?

The King. Well, not like the hero of a sensational novel--not straightto the bottom like a stone--but like a dreamer carried off by pixiesin a wood, with one name ever upon my lips! And the world would have tolook after itself. 

Clara. But that is sheer recklessness. 

The King. I know it is; but I am reckless. I stake everything upon onethrow! (A pause. )

Clara. Heaven send you may win. 

The King. At least I am daring enough to hope that I may--and there aremoments when I almost feel certain of victory!

Clara (embarrassed). It is a lovely morning--

The King. --for the time of year; yes. And it is lovelier here than it isanywhere else!

Clara. I cannot really understand a course of action which implies awant of all sense of responsibility--

The King. Every one has their own point of view. A scheme of life, tosatisfy me, must have its greatest happiness hidden away at its core; inmy case that would be to have a house of my own--all to myself, like anyother citizen--from which I should go away to my work, and come backto as to a safe refuge. That is the button on the electric wire, do youunderstand? It is the little pressure on it that I am waiting for. (Apause. )

Clara. Have you read my father's book, _Democratic Monarchy_?

The King. Yes. 

Clara. He wrote it when I was a child; and so I may say that I grew upamongst ideas like--like those I have heard from you to-day. All thefriends that came to our house used to talk to me about it. 

The King. Then no doubt you heard the crown prince talked about, too!

Clara. I think I heard his name oftener mentioned at home than anyone's. I believe the book was written expressly for you. 

The King. I can feel that when I read it. If only I had been allowed toread it in those days! Do you remember how in it your father maintains, too, that all reform depends on the beating down of the hedge thatsurrounds royalty?--on a king's becoming, as he says, "wedded tohis people" in the fullest sense of the word, not irregularly orsurreptitiously? No king can share his people's thoughts if he livesapart from them in a great palace, married to a foreign princess. Thereis no national spirit behind a complicated court life of outlandishceremonial. 

Clara (turning away her head). You should have heard how vehemently myfather used to assert those ideas. 

The King. And yet he abandoned them. 

Clara. Became a republican, you mean?

The King. Yes. 

Clara. He was so disappointed. (A pause. )

The King. I sometimes wonder every one isn't a republican! It must cometo that in the end; I can see that. If only royalties nowadays thoughtseriously enough about it to realise it!

Clara. It is made so difficult for them by those who surround them. 

The King. Yes, you see, that is another reason why any such reform mustbegin at home. Do you think that a king, who went every day to his workfrom a home that was in every respect like that of one of his people, could fail in the long run?

Clara. There are so many different kinds of homes. 

The King. I mean a home that holds love instead of subservience--comfortinstead of ceremony-truth instead of flattery; a home where--ah, well, Ineed not teach a woman what a home means. 

Clara. We make them what they are. 

The King. Surely; but they are especially what women make them. (Apause. )

Clara. The sun is quite strong now. 

The King. But it can scarcely pierce through the screen of leaves here. 

Clara. When the sun shines down like this and the leaves tremble--

The King. The sunshine seems to tremble too. 

Clara. Yes, but it makes one feel as if everything were trembling--evendeep down into our hearts!

The King. That is true. --Yes, its homes are the most precious things anation makes. Their national characteristics mean reverence for theirpast and possibilities for their future. 

Clara. I understand better now what you meant. 

The King. When I said I wanted to begin at the beginning?

Clara. Yes. (A pause. )

The King. I cannot do otherwise. My heart must be in my work. 

Clara (smiling). My father had his heart in his work, too. 

The King. Forgive me--but don't you think it was just the want ofan object in his life that led your father to push his theories toofar?--an object outside himself, I mean?

Clara. Perhaps. If my mother had lived--. (Stops. )

The King. --he might have taken it differently; don't you think so?

Clara. I have sometimes thought so. (A pause. )

The King. How still it is! Not a sound!

Clara. Yes, there is the fountain. 

The King. That is true; but one ends by hardly hearing a continuoussound like that. 

Clara. There is a tremulousness in _that_ too. (Looks round her. )

The King. What are you looking for?

Clara. It is time to look for the Baroness. 

The King. She is up on that slope. Shall I call her? Or--perhaps youwould like to see a fine view?

Clara. Yes. 

The King. Then let us go up to her together! (They go. )

ACT III

SCENE I

(SCENE. An open place in the town. It is evening, and the square isbadly lit. On the right is the club, a large building, standing alone;lights are shining from all its windows. Steps lead from the door, abovewhich is a balcony. The square is full of people. In the background, standing on the lowest step of the pedestal of an equestrian statue, is a BALLAD SINGER, singing to the accompaniment of his guitar. Cigars, oranges, and other wares are being sold by hawkers. The singer's voiceis heard before the curtain rises. The crowd gradually joins him in therefrain which he repeats after each verse of his ballad. )

The Ballad Singer (sings). 

 The Princeling begged and begged and begged Her love, on bended knee. The Maid said craftily, "Nay, nay, I doubt your high degree!"

 Refrain. 

 She knew the might, the might, the might Of love's distracting hour; How royalty, with all its pomp, Will curtsey to its power. 

 The Princeling said: "Consent, my dear, And you shall marry me. " The Maiden answered mockingly, "Over the left, maybe!"

 "Nay, as my Queen, enchanting maid, And that this very day!" The Maiden answered him, "Gadzooks!" And fainted right away. 

 Recovering, she sighed, "My Lord, Princesses will be wroth; On every side they sit and wait To plight to you their troth. "

 He answered, "Bosh!"--"But what of those Who counselled you before?" "Whom do you mean?"--"Your ministers!" "I'll show them to the door!"

 "But think, my dear--your generals, Your nobles, court, and priest; They'll try to drag you from my side Or shun us as the pest. "

 "Nay, be not feared! I'll make you more By dozens at a word, Who'll bow and grovel if they be To rank and place preferred. "

 "But think of the republicans! My father!--what if he--?" "The cock that crows the loudest, then, Prime minister shall be!"

 "Suppose the people stoutly swear They'll none of me?"--"Nay, nay, An order here, a title there, And all will homage pay. "

 "Then I am yours!"--"Hurrah!" He holds Her tight his arms between; "Nay, not so fast, my kingly love! Not till I am your Queen!"

 She knew the might, the might, the might Of love's distracting hour; How royalty, with all its pomp, Will curtsey to its power. 

An Old Gentleman (to another). What is going on here?

Second Old Gentleman. I don't know. I have only just come. 

A Workman. Why, the King is coming past here with her!

First Old Gentleman. Coming past here with her? To hold a court at thepalace?

The Workman. Yes. 

Second Old Gentleman (taking a pinch of snuff). And I suppose thosefellows in the club mean to make a demonstration?--hiss them, orsomething of that sort?

The Workman. So they say. 

First Old Gentleman. Have they decided not to attend the court then?

A Dandy. Unanimously decided. 

A Woman. It's filthy!

The Dandy. I beg your pardon?

The Woman. I say that those fellows in there will condescend to seduceour daughters, right enough; but they won't condescend to marry them. But, you see, the King does. 

The Workman. I am not sure it wouldn't be better if he didn't. 

The Woman. Well, I know people who say that she is quite a respectableperson. 

The Dandy. I imagine that you have not read the newspapers?

First Old Gentleman. Hm!--one has to be a little careful as to how farone believes the newspapers. 

Second Old Gentleman (offering him his snuff-box). I am delighted tohear you say that! There is such a lot of slander flying about. Thatbawdy ballad just now; for instance. 

The Woman. Yes, that's poking fun at _him_--I know that. 

The Dandy. You had better take care what you are saying, my good woman!

The Woman. Ah, I only say what I know. 

(FLINK appears on the steps of the statue beside the BALLAD SINGER. )

Flink. Stop your stupid songs! I want to speak!

Voice in the Crowd. Who is that?

Flink. You don't know me. I have never made public speeches--and leastof all to street mobs. 

Voice in the Crowd. Why are you doing it now, then?

Flink. Because I have been charged with a message to you! (The membersof the club rush to the windows and on to the balcony and steps. Uproar. )

Voice in the Crowd. Be quiet! Let us hear him!

Flink. Listen to me, good people! You don't know me. But you used toknow a tall chap, with long white hair and a big hat, who often madespeeches to you. I mean Professor Ernst. 

Voice in the Crowd. Three cheers for Professor Ernst. (Cheers. )

Flink. He was sent to prison, as you know, for high treason; escapedfrom prison, but broke his legs. Now he is living in exile, hopelesslycrippled. 

Voice in the Crowd. He got a pardon. 

Another. No one knows where he is. 

Flink. I know where he is. He has charged me to deliver a message to youto-day. 

Voices from the Club. Bravo!

Voices from the Crowd. Has he! Bravo, Ernst!

Voices from the Club. Be quiet, down there!

Flink. He made me promise that, on the day on which his daughter was tobe presented at the palace as the King's betrothed, I would stand upin some public place where she would pass by, and say that it was beingdone against her father's will and in spite of his urgent entreaties andcommands. (Loud cries of "Bravo!" from the club. A voice in the crowd:"That is just what we thought!") I am charged to announce publicly thathe despises her for it and sends her his curse! (Fresh cries of "Bravo!"from the club. Voices in the crowd: "That's shocking!"--"No, he wasquite right;" etc. , etc. Uproar. ) Quiet, good people!

A Young Man in the Crowd. May I be allowed to ask a question? (Shouts of"Yes!" and "No!" and laughter are heard. )

Flink. By all means. 

The Young Man. Did not Professor Ernst himself advocate a king's doingjust what our King has done?

Voices in the Crowd. Hear, hear!

Flink. Yes, and in return was thrown into prison and is now an incurablecripple. No one has been more cruelly treated by the King's hirelings. And now here is his daughter willing to become Queen!

Count Platen (from the club balcony). I don't see why you want toblame her! No; what I say is, that it is our dissolute King's faultaltogether! (Renewed uproar. Cries of: "Turn him out!" from the club. )

Flink. I had something more to say about those who--. But make thosefellows at the club be quiet first. 

A Voice. They are fighting over there! (Laughter. Wild uproar is heardfrom the club, amidst which COUNT PLATEN'S voice is heard shouting: "Letme be! Let me alone!"--and other voices: "Don't let him go out!"--"He isdrunk!" Eventually COUNT PLATEN comes out on to the steps, hatless anddishevelled. )

Count Platen. I'm going to make a speech to you! I am better than thatcrew in there! (Cries of "Bravo!") What I say is, that the King iscoming past here directly with a woman. (Applause, and laughter. Everyone crowds towards him. The police try to pull him down. A freefight ensues. ) Hiss them when they come! (Cries of "Throw himdown!"--"Bravo!"--"Hurrah!") I, Count Platen, tell you to do so! Hisshim, howl at him, make a regular hullabaloo when he comes! I, CountPlaten, tell you to! (Cries of "Three cheers for Count Platen!" aremingled with cries of "Three cheers for the King!" There is a generaltumult. COUNT PLATEN is hustled up and down the steps, and tries togo on making his speech every time he comes up. ) He is defiling thethrone!--He wants to marry a traitor's daughter! Shame! I, Count Platen, say so! Here I stand--! (A trumpet-call is heard; then cries of "Here isthe King!"--"No, it's the cavalry!"--"The cavalry are coming!"--"Clearthe square!" A shot is heard, followed by a scream; the people take totheir heels as another trumpet-call is heard. Curtain. )

SCENE II

(SCENE. --A room in the BARONESS' house. The BARONESS is sitting reading. A MAID enters and brings her a card. )

Baroness (looking at the card). The Minister of the Interior!--Show himin! (GRAN comes in. ) I am glad to see you back, your Excellency!--Youhave found him, then?

Gran. Yes, we have discovered him. 

Baroness. And spoken to him?

Gran. Yes. 

Baroness. May I send for his daughter?

Gran. For heaven's sake

Baroness. What is the matter?

Gran. He is a dying man. 

Baroness. What!

Gran. The King desires me to tell you that he has ordered a specialtrain to be ready at 10 o'clock, so that as soon as the court is overshe can go to her father. The King will accompany her. 

Baroness. That is kind of him!

Gran. Then you will get ready everything that she needs for a night'sjourney?

Baroness. Yes. 

Gran. And without her being aware of it? The King does not wish her toknow anything of her father's condition till after the court. 

Baroness. The court is to be held, then?

Gran. The court is to be held. After it is over, His Majesty will tellher the news himself. 

Baroness. I am thankful for that. --But what did Professor Ernst say? Whyhas he not answered his daughter's letter? Why has he hidden from her?Is he really irreconcilable?

Gran. Irreconcilable? He hates her!

Baroness. Good heavens!

Gran. And not only her, but every one that has made common cause withthe King--every one!

Baroness. I suppose it was to be expected. --But won't you sit down?

Gran (bows, but remains standing). I had a talk with his doctor before Isaw him. He had some hesitation about letting me in. It was a fortnightsince his patient had been able to move. But when I told him my errand, and that I had come from the King, he let me see him. 

Baroness. How did he look? He was a fine man once. 

Gran. He was sitting in a big chair, a mere paralysed wreck of a man. But when he saw me and realised who I was--and probably, too, what myerrand was--he found the strength not only to move, but to seize bothhis crutches and raise himself on them! I shall never forget his gauntashen-grey face, the feverish gleam in his sunken eyes, his unkempt hairand beard--

Baroness. He must have looked terrible!

Gran. He was like a creature from beyond the grave--with an eternity ofhatred in his eyes!

Baroness. Oh, my God!

Gran. When at last I could find my voice, I gave him his daughter'sgreeting, and asked if she might come and see him. A dark look came intohis eyes, and his face flushed for a moment, as he gasped out: "May shebe--. " He could not finish the sentence. His crutches slipped from hisgrasp and he fell down, blood pouring from his mouth. The doctor rushedto him; and for a long time we thought he was dead. 

Baroness. But he came round?

Gran. I waited an hour or two before I started back. Then the doctortold me that he had recovered consciousness, but that the end couldcertainly not be far off--perhaps not twenty-four hours. 

Baroness. It must have been a shock to you. 

Gran. It was. 

Baroness. But what did he mean by: "May she be--"

Gran. That is what I have been wondering. 

Baroness. He cannot do her any harm, can he?

Grad. He may give her the same reception that he gave me; if she goes. 

Baroness, Even if the King is with her?

Gran. All the more then!

Baroness. Oh, that would be horrible! But it won't prevent her going. 

Gran. Let us hope so!

Baroness. I am certain of it! She has extraordinary strength ofcharacter--just like her father's. 

Gran. Yes, that is the one thing I rely on. 

Baroness. What do you mean? Your words sound so despondent!

Gran. I mean what is perfectly true--that everything will depend uponher strength of character. 

Baroness. What about the King, then?

Gran. I could say a great deal on that topic, Baroness; but (bows) youmust excuse me--I haven't time now. 

Baroness. How are the elections going?

Gran. They are going well--if nothing happens now?

Baroness. What could happen?

Gran. The situation is very strained; one must expect anything. 

Baroness. Are you anxious, your Excellency?

Gran. I must beg leave to retire now. (A MAID comes in. )

Maid (to GRAN). The Inspector of Police, who came with your Excellency, wishes to know if he may speak to your Excellency. 

Gran. I will come at once. (To the BARONESS. ) There is rioting going onin the town, not far from here--in front of the club. 

Baroness (in alarm). What?--Isn't the King coming along that way?

Gran. Don't be afraid! We have taken our precautions--Good-bye! (Goesout. )

Baroness. --He has quite alarmed me--everything seems to come at the sametime! She has had a suspicion that there was something amiss with herfather; I have noticed that, but she hasn't wanted to speak about it. (CLARA comes in, dressed for the court. ) Ah, there you are, my dear!Quite ready?

Clara. Quite. 

Baroness (looking at her). Well, I daresay there have been royal bridesmore elaborately dressed, but I am sure there has never been one morecharming. (Kisses her. )

Clara. I think I hear a carriage?

Baroness. I expect it is the King!

Clara. I am afraid it is too early yet--but all the same I hope it ishe!

Baroness. Do you feel afraid?

Clara. No, no--it is not that at all; it is something--something thatyou don't--a kind of feeling as if--as if some one were haunting me; andI know who it is. I only feel secure when the King is with me. I hope itmay be he coming. (Goes to the window. )

(The MAID comes in. )

Maid. A lady wishes to speak to you, Miss Ernst--

Baroness. A lady?

Clara. Didn't she give her name?

Maid. She is veiled--and very handsomely dressed. 

Clara (with decision). No! I can see no one. 

Baroness. No one that we do not know. (To the MAID. ) You ought to knowthat. 

Maid (hesitatingly). But I think it is--. (The door opens and thePRINCESS comes in. )

Baroness. What does this mean? Clara! leave us, my dear. 

Princess (drawing aside her veil). Do you know me?

Clara and Baroness. The Princess!

Princess. Are you Clara Ernst?

Clara. Yes. 

Princess (haughtily, to the BARONESS). Leave us alone! (The BARONESSgoes out. ) Before going to the palace I wanted to come here--even at therisk of meeting the King. 

Clara. He has not come yet. (A long pause. )

Princess. Have you thought well over what you are going to do?

Clara. I think so. 

Princess. I don't think you have. Have you read what the papers sayabout it--every one of them--to-day?

Clara. No. The King has advised me not to. 

Princess. But the letters that have been sent to you? I know lettershave been written to you. 

Clara. The King has advised me not to read them either. He takes all theletters. 

Princess. Do you know that they are rioting in the streets close tohere?

Clara (in alarm). No!

Princess. You will be received with hisses, hooting--perhaps with stonethrowing. You didn't expect anything like that, did you?

Clara. No. 

Princess. What shall you do?

Clara (after a moment, quietly). I shall go with the King. 

Princess. A nice road you are dragging him along, truly! And I assureyou that the farther you go along it, the worse it will become. Youcannot possibly have prepared yourself for all that you will have to gothrough. 

Clara. I think I have. 

Princess (in surprise). What do you mean? How?

Clara (bending her head). I have prayed to God. 

Princess. Pshaw! I mean that you cannot have considered the misery intowhich you are dragging the King--and the disgrace and trouble you arebringing upon all his people. (CLARA is silent. ) You are young still;your heart cannot be altogether hardened yet, whatever your past mayhave been. 

Clara (proudly). I have no reason to be ashamed of my past. 

Princess. Indeed? What sort of a past has it been, then?

Clara. One full of suffering, princess--and of work. (A pause. )

Princess. Do you know what the King's past has been?

Clara (drooping her head). Ah, yes. 

Princess. Yours will be tarred with the same brush--no matter what itreally has been. 

Clara. I know that. He has told me so. 

Princess. Really!--After all, is it a sacrifice you are making for hissake? Do you love the King?

Clara (faintly). Yes. 

Princess. Then listen to me. If you loved the King, you would have madea _real_ sacrifice for him. We are women, you and I; we can understandthese things without many words. But such a sacrifice does not consistin consenting to be his queen. 

Clara. It is not I that wished it. 

Princess. You have allowed yourself to be persuaded?--Well, you areeither deceiving yourself, my girl, or you are deceiving him. Perhapsyou began with the one and are ending with the other. Anyway, it is timeyou had your eyes opened as to which of you it is that is making thesacrifice. Do you not know that, on your account, he is already thetarget for general contempt? (CLARA bursts into tears. ) If that makesyou repent, show it--show it by your deeds!

Clara. I repent of nothing. 

Princess (in astonishment). What state of mind are you in, then?

Clara. I have suffered terribly. But I pray God for strength to bear it. 

Princess. Don't talk nonsense! The whole thing is a horrible confusionof ideas--half remorse and half cant--the one so mixed up with the otherin your mind that you cannot disentangle them. But, believe me, othersfeel very sure that sacred things and--and what I won't call bluntly byits name, go very ill together! So don't waste those airs on me; theyonly irritate me!

Clara. Princess, don't be cruel to me. I _am_ suffering, all the same. 

Princess. Why on earth do you want to go any farther with the affair?If you aren't clear about it, take advice! Your father is opposed to it, isn't he?

Clara. Yes. (Throws herself into a chair. )

Princess. He has hidden himself away from you. You don't know wherehe is, or how he is--though you know he is crippled and ill. And, meanwhile, here you are in full dress, with a rose in your hair, waitingto set out to a court at the palace! Are you willing to pass throughcontemptuous rioting crowds, and over your sick father's body, to becomequeen? What callous levity! What a presumptuous mixture of what youthink is love, duty, sacrifice, trial--with an unscrupulous ambition--!The King? Are you depending on him? He is a poet. He loves anythingunusual or sensational. Resistance stimulates him; and that is whatdrives him into believing that his love will be unending. When youhave been married a week, it will be all over. If he had not met withresistance, it would have been all over before this. I know theKing better than you; for I know his faithlessness. It is like hislove--unending! It hurts you to hear that, does it? Well, it hurts one'seyes to look at the sun. But I can tell you about these things. The onlyreason I had for coming was to tell you what I know. And now that I haveseen you, I can tell you that I know one thing more--and I will tell youwhat it is. If you actually allow the King, with his ardent temperament, to stray into a path which will lead to the ruin of his career, youraction will, in the fullness of time, recoil so appallingly uponyour own head that it will kill you. I know you are one of thosethat faithlessness, remorse and contempt _would_ kill. --Don't look sobeseechingly at me; I cannot retract a word of what I have said. But Ican tell you now what I had decided upon before I came. _I_ will lookafter your future. I am not rich; but, as sure as I stand here beforeyou, you shall live free from care--you shall have everything that youneed--for the rest of your life. I want no thanks! I do it for the sakeof the King, and for the sake of the country to which I belong. It is myduty. Only get up now and come with me to my carriage. (Offers CLARA herhand. )

Clara. If it were as easy as that, I should have done it long, long ago. 

Princess (turns away. Then comes back). Get up. (Pulls her on to herfeet. ) Do you love the King?

Clara. Do I love him? I am a motherless child, and have lived alonewith a father who has been constantly persecuted on account of hisprinciples; I shared his ideals from a very early age, and I have neverabandoned them since. Then one day I was given the chance of makingthese ideals real. "What _I_ long to do, _you_ shall accomplish!"he said. There is something great about that, Princess--somethingall-powerful--a call from God Himself. Of that I am certain. 

Princess. It is merely a rhapsody of the King's--nothing else!

Clara. Then I will make it real and live it! I have given my whole soulto it, and have strengthened his to the same end. It has been my idealall my life. 

Princess. And you believe that it will last?

Clara. Yes. 

Princess. Then let me beg you to believe this, too--it will last untilhe has attained his end. 

Clara. If you mean our marriage, let me tell you that _that_ is not ourend. 

Princess (in surprise). What is, then?

Clara. Our end is to accomplish something together. That task shall beconsecrated and ennobled by our love. Yes, you may look at me! Thosewere his own words. 

Princess. That answer!--That thought!--But what certainty have you?

Clara. Of what?

Princess. That you did not put the thought into his mind?--and that thefire in his soul may not flicker out?

Clara. If I needed any assurance, I should find it in the fact that hechanged his whole life for my sake; he waited for me for more than ayear. Has he ever done that for any one before? I am sure he has neverneeded to! (The PRINCESS winces. ) It is those who have seduced that"ardent" temperament of his--you called it that yourself--that are toblame, and not I, Princess! (A pause. ) I checked him to the best ofmy power when he came to me as he was wont to go to others. (A pause. )Indeed it is no sacrifice to become his wife. When one loves, there isno question of sacrifice. But the position in which I now stand exposesme to more suspicion than the humblest of his subjects, to more scornthan if I were his mistress. Think how you have spoken to me to-dayyourself, Princess! (A pause. ) It is no sacrifice to endure such thingsfor the man one loves. It was not I that used the word "sacrifice, "either; and as for the sacrifice you implied that I ought to have made, I don't wish to understand what you meant by that, even though I am awoman as well as you! But if you knew, Princess, how hard a fight I havebeen through before I found the strength to cast in my lot with his, against my father's wish and against you all--you would not have spokento me about making a sacrifice. At all events you would not have spokento me as you have done to-day; because you are not cruel, and I knowthat at bottom you mean me well. (A longer pause. )

Princess. This is more serious than I knew. --Poor child, yourdisappointment will be all the more serious. 

Clara. Not with him!

Princess (half to herself). Is it possible he can be so changed? Wasthat what was needed to secure a hold on him--? (To CLARA. ) Is he cominghere to fetch you?

Clara. Yes. 

Princess. What does he want to hold this court for? What is the goodof throwing down this challenge to all the dignitaries of hiskingdom?--especially if, after all, he means to live the life of anordinary citizen?

Clara. He wished it. 

Princess. An exciting episode in his rhapsody! Why did you not dissuadehim?

Clara. Because I agree with him. 

Princess. Perhaps you don't fully realise what it means?--whathumiliation the King will have to undergo?

Clara. I only know that it seems to me that these things should be doneopenly, and that he has plenty of courage. 

Princess. That is mere bravado. Are you going in that dress?--to courtin that dress? (CLARA is silent. ) I say it is mere bravado. 

Clara. I have no better dress. 

Princess. What do you mean? Surely the King can--? Are you jesting?

Clara (shyly). I do not allow the King to give me anything; not until--. 

Princess. Doesn't he pay your expenses here, then? (Looks round theroom. )

Clara. No. 

Princess. It is the Baroness?

Clara. She and I. We are both poor. 

Princess. Ah, yes--she has lost her post now, hasn't she?

Clara. On my account--yes. And you, Princess, who have known her--forshe was once your governess--can you really suppose that she wouldhave been faithful to me if she did not trust me and feel that this wasright? You treated her so contemptuously when you came in. 

Princess. I seem to have broken in upon the most incomprehensibleromance!--Then you love the King? (CLARA nods her head. ) He knows how tolove, and make a woman happy! He is a dazzling creature!--We shall seenow whether you are to suffer for all the hearts he has broken. You arenot the first woman he has loved. 

Clara. Princess!

Princess. Yes, let that sink into your mind! Your happiness isembroidered with tears!

Clara. It is cruel of you to reproach me with it. 

Princess. Forgive me! I really did not mean that. --But there is stilltime to put on a more suitable dress. If you dare accept no gifts fromthe King--you might from some one else? A King's bride is a King's brideafter all, you know!

Clara. He told me I should not need anything more than this. 

Princess. Not in his eyes, I dare say. But we women know a littlebetter!--If it were only a necklace? Will you accept this one? (Beginsto unfasten hers. )

Clara. I knew you were kind. --But I daren't. 

Princess. Why not?

Clara. Because--because people would think that--. (Bursts into tears. Apause. )

Princess. Listen, my child. The whole thing is sheer lunacy; but--as itcannot be altered--as soon as the court assembles I shall take my placeat your side and not leave you till it is all over. Tell the King that!Good-bye!

Clara (going towards her). Princess!

Princess (kisses her, and whispers). Haven't you allowed him to kissyou, either?

Clara (in a whisper). Yes, I have. 

Princess (kissing her once snore). Love him! (The sound of carriagewheels is heard. The BARONESS comes in. )

Baroness. I hear the King's carriage. 

Princess. I don't wish to meet him. (Stretches out her hand to theBARONESS. ) Baroness! (Points to the door through which the BARONESS hascome in. ) Can I get out that way?

Baroness. Yes. (She takes the PRINCESS out. A moment later the MAIDushers in the KING, who is dressed in plain clothes and wearing nodecorations. )

The King. Clara!

Clara. My friend! (They embrace. )

The King. What does it mean?

Clara. What?

The King. The Princess' carriage here?

Clara. She told me to greet you. She has just gone, and--

The King. And--?

Clara. She said as soon as the court assembled she would take her placebeside me and stay there till we left the palace. 

The King. Is it possible?

Clara. It is _true_. 

The King. You have conquered her! I know she could be conquered--shehas a heart, as well as a head! It is a good omen!--So she offered to do_that_! What will our precious nobility have to say to that?

Clara. They are about the streets, aren't they?

The King. Ah, then you know?

Clara. I know, too, that there has been rioting outside the club. 

The King. You know that too?--and are not afraid?

Clara. Perhaps I might have been--but there is something else that I ammore afraid of. (Draws closer to the KING. )

The King. What is that?

Clara. You know. (A pause. )

The King. Have you been uneasy about him to-day too?

Clara. All day--incessantly. Something must have happened. 

The King. Well, now I can tell you where he is. 

Clara (eagerly). At last! Have you found him?

The King. Gran has been to see him. 

Clara. Thank God! Is it far from here?

The King. This evening, immediately after the court, you and I will bothstart for there in a special train. We shall be there early to-morrow. 

Clara (throwing her arms round his neck). Thanks, thanks! How good youare! Thanks! How is he? Is he ill!

The King. Yes. 

Clara. I knew it? And implacable?

The King. Yes. 

Clara. I feel it! (Nestles closer in his arms. )

The King. Are you afraid?

Clara. Yes!

The King. Dear, when you see him perhaps your fear will go. 

Clara. Yes, only let me see him! Whatever he says, let me see him!

The King. Within twelve hours from now you shall! And I shall be withyou. 

Clara. The finest thing about you is your kindness. Oh, I am so glad youhave come! I could not endure my fears any longer. 

The King. There are dissensions going on about you!

Clara. Oh!--(Nestles in his arms again. )

The King. Bear up!--It will soon be over. 

Clara. I believe it will. Yes, I know it will. --Let me walk about alittle! (The KING walks up and down with her. )

The King. And turn our thoughts to something else! Do you know where Ihave come from?

Clara. Where?

The King. From our little house in the park. 

Clara. Why, we drove past it yesterday!

The King. You will feel only _one_ person's presence there! Wherever yougo, you will be surrounded by the thoughts I have had of you there. Ifyou look out of the window, or go out on to the balcony--on every rock, by each turn of the stream--on the lawns, under the trees, among thebushes--everywhere you will find a thousand thoughts of you hidden. Breathe the words "my darling girl, " and they will all come clusteringround you!--Let us sit down. 

Clara. It is all like a fairy tale. 

The King. And I am the latest fairy prince! (He sits down and drawsher on to his knee. ) And you are the little maid who comes, led by goodfairies, to the enchanted castle to wake him. He has been kept asleep bywicked spells for many, many years. 

Clara. For many, many years!

The King. I am not really _I_, nor you _you_. The monarch was bewitchedlong ago. He was turned into a wild beast who gave reign to his passionby night and slept by day. And now the maiden of humble degree hasbecome a woman and freed him from the spells. 

Clara. Really! Ah, you are so clever at inventing things to cheat myfears away from me. And you always succeed. But after all, you know, Ihave no strength and no courage; I am so weak. 

The King. You have more strength than I!--more than any one I have everknown. 

Clara. No, don't say that; but--you may be sure of this!--if I did notfeel that I had _some_ strength I would never try to throw in my lotwith yours. 

The King. I will explain to you what you are! Some people aretremendously more spiritual, more delicately constituted than others;and they are a hundred times more sensitive. And they fancy that isweakness. But it is just they who draw their strength from _deeper_sources, through a thousand imperceptible channels. You will often findthem with heads erect and valiant when others have gone under; theymerely bend before the storm, with supple strength, when others breakunder it. You are like that!

Clara. You are very ingenious when you start explaining me!

The King. Well, listen to this! At the time when I was behaving so badlyto you, your terror, every time I approached you, was so piteous that itwas always before my eyes and rang in my ears like a cry of agony froma wounded heart. It is true! It filled me with terror, too. Do youcall that weakness, to feel things so intensely that another person isinfluenced by your feelings against his will?

Clara. No. 

The King. And then, when I found you again--the way you listened to me--

Clara (stopping him with a kiss). Don't let us talk about it now!

The King. What shall we talk about, then? It is a little too early tostart yet. --Ah, I have it! We will talk about the impression you willmake this evening when you come forward through the brightly lit rooms, radiant against the background of ugly calumny! That was prettily put, wasn't it? "Is _that_ she?" they will think. And then something willcome into their eyes that will cheat them into thinking that pearls andgold are strewn over your hair, over your dress, over your--

Clara (putting her hand over his mouth). No, no, no! Now I am going totell you a little story!

The King. Tell away!

Clara. When I was a child, I saw a balloon being filled one day, andthere was a horrible smell from the gas. Afterwards, when I saw thegleaming balloon rising in the air, I thought to myself: "Ah, thathorrid smell was something burning; they had to burn it for the balloonto be able to rise. " And after that, every time I heard anything horridsaid about my father, I felt as if something was burning inside me, andI thought of the balloon and imagined I could smell the smell. And thenall at once I imagined I saw it rising; the horrid part was burnt, andit was able to mount aloft! I assure you that balloon was a good geniusto me. And now, years afterwards, when I have been a target for calumnymyself--and you for my sake--I have felt just the same thing. Every wordhas burned; but I have got over it in a moment, and risen high, highabove it all! I never seem to breathe so pure an atmosphere as a littlewhile after something cruel has been said of me. 

The King. I shall certainly set to work and abuse you at once, if ithas such delightful results! I will begin with a selection from to-day'spapers: "You Aspasia! You Messalina! You Pompadour! You Phylloxera, thatare eating into our whole moral vine-crop! You blue-eyed curse of thecountry, that are causing panics in the money-market, overthrowingministries, and upsetting all calculations in the elections! Youmischievous hobgoblin, who are pouring gall into the printers' ink andpoison into the people's coffee, filling all the old ladies' heads withbuzzing flies, and the King's Majesty with a million lover's follies!"Do you know that, besides all the harm you are doing to-day, you arehastening a revolution by ten years? You are! And no one can be surewhether you haven't been pursuing the same wicked courses for the lasthundred years or more! All our royal and noble ancestors are turning intheir graves because of you! And if our deceased queens have any nosesleft--

Clara (interrupting him). The Baroness! (They get up. The BARONESS comesin wearing a cloak over her court dress and carrying CLARA'S cloak overher arm. )

Baroness. I must take the liberty of disturbing you. Time is up!

The King. We have been killing it by talking nonsense. 

Baroness. And that has put you in a good humour?

The King (taking his hat). In the best of humours! Here, my darling(fastens CLARA'S cloak about her shoulders), here is the last scandalousbit of concealment for you! When we take it off again, you shall standradiant in the light of your own truth. Come! (Gives her his arm, andthey go trippingly up to the back of the room. Suddenly the phantom ofan emaciated figure leaning on crutches appears in their path, staringat them. His hair and beard are in wild disorder, and blood is pouringfrom his mouth. CLARA gives a terrified scream. )

The King. In Heaven's name, what is it?

Clara. My father!

The King. Where? (To the BARONESS. ) Go and see! (The BARONESS opens thedoors at the back and looks out). 

Baroness. I can see no one. 

The King. Look down the corridor!

Baroness. No--no one there, either! (CLARA has sunk lifelessly into theKING'S arms. After one or two spasmodic twitchings of her hands, herarms slip away from him and her head falls back. )

The King. Help, help!

The Baroness (rushing to him with a shriek). Clara!

Curtain. 

ACT IV

(SCENE. --A room in GRAN's house; the same as in Act I, Scene II. GRANis standing at his desk on the right. FLINK comes in carrying apistol-case, which he puts down upon the table. )

Gran. You?

Flink. As you see. (Walks up and down for a little without speaking. )

Gran. I haven't seen you since the day the King was here. 

Flink. No. --Have you taken your holidays?

Gran. Yes; but, anyway, I am likely to have perpetual holidays now! Theelections are going against us. 

Flink (walking about). So I hear. The clerical party and thereactionaries are winning. 

Gran. That would not have been so, but for her unhappy death--. (Breaksoff, and sighs. )

Flink. A judgment from heaven--that is what the parsons say, and thewomen, and the reactionaries--

Gran. --and the landlords. And they really believe it. 

Flink (stopping). Well, don't you believe it?

Gran (after a pause). At all events I interpret it differently from--

Flink. --from the parson? Naturally. But can any one doubt the fact thatit was the finger of fate?

Gran. Then fate assumed her father's shape?

Flink. Whether her father appeared to her at the moment of his death ornot (shrugs his shoulders) is a matter in which I am not interested. I don't believe in such things. But that she was suffering pangs ofconscience, I do believe. I believe it may have brought painful visionsbefore her eyes. 

Gran. I knew her pretty well, and I will answer for it she had no guiltyconscience. She was approaching her task with enthusiasm. Any onethat knew her will tell you the same. With her the King was first andforemost. 

Flink. What did she die of, then? Of enthusiasm?

Gran. Of being overwrought by the force of her emotions. Her task wastoo great for her. The time was not ripe for it. (Sadly. ) Our experimentwas bound to fail. 

Flink. You condemn it when you say that!--But with her last breath shecalled out: "My father!" And, just at that moment, he died, fifty milesaway from her. Either she _saw_ him, or she _imagined_ she saw him, standing before her. But his bloodstained, maltreated, crippled formstanding in the way of her criminal advance towards the throne--is thatnot a symbol of maltreated humanity revolting against monarchy at thevery moment when monarchy wishes to atone! Its guilt through thousandsof years is too black. Fate is inflexible. 

Gran. But with what result? Are we rid of monarchy yet?

Flink. We are rid of that treacherous attempt to reconcile it withmodern conditions. Thank God it emerges, hand in glove with the parsonsand reactionaries, none the worse for its temporary eclipse. 

Gran. So everything is all right, I suppose?

Flink. For the moment--yes. But there used to exist here a strongrepublican party, which enjoyed universal respect, and was makingextraordinary progress. Where is it now?

Gran. I knew that was why you came. 

Flink. I have come to call you to account. 

Gran. If I had been in your place I would not have acted so, towards adefeated and wounded friend. 

Flink. The republican party has often been defeated--but never despisedtill now. Who is to blame for that?

Gran. None of us ever think we deserve contempt. 

Flink. A traitor always deserves it. 

Gran. It is but a step from the present state of things to a republic;and we shall have to take that step in the end. 

Flink. But at least we can do so without treachery. 

Gran. I honestly believe that what we did was right. It may havemiscarried the first time, and may miscarry a second and a third; but itis the only possible solution. 

Flink. You pronounced your doom in those words. 

Gran (more attentively). What do you mean by that?

Flink. We must make sure that such an attempt will not be made again. 

Gran. So that is it. --I begin to understand you now. 

Flink. The republican party is broken up. For a generation it will beannihilated by contempt. But a community without a republican party mustbe one without ideals and without any aspirations towards truth in itspolitical life--and in other respects as well! That is what you areresponsible for. 

Gran. You pay me too great a compliment. 

Flink. By no means! Your reputation, your personal qualities andassociations are what have seduced them. 

Gran. Listen to me for a moment! You used to overrate me in the hopesyou had of me. You are overrating me now in your censure. You areoverrating the effects of our failure--you never seem to be able to doanything but overshoot your mark. For that reason you are a danger toyour friends. You lure them on. When things go well you lure them on toexcess of activity; when things go ill, you turn their despondency intodespair. Your inordinate enthusiasm obscures your wits. _You_ are notcalled upon to sit in judgment upon any one; because you draw the puretruths that lie hidden in your soul into such a frenzied vortex ofstrife that you lose sight of them; and then they have so little oftruth left in them that in your hands they can be answerable for crimes. 

Flink. Oh, spare me your dialectics!--because any skill you have inthem, _I_ taught you! You cannot excuse your own sins by running overthe list of mine; that is the only answer I have to make to you! I don'tstand before you as the embodiment of truth; I am no braggart. No; butsimply as one who has loved you deeply and now is as deeply offended byyou, I ask this question of your conscience: What have you done with thelove we had for one another? Where is the sacred cause we both used touphold? Where is our honour--our friends--our future?

Gran. I feel respect for your sorrow. Can you not feel any for mine? Ordo you suppose that I am not suffering?

Flink. You cannot act as you have done without bringing unhappiness uponyourself. But there are others to be considered besides you, and we havethe right to call you to account. Answer me!

Gran. And is it really you--you, my old friend--that propose to do that?

Flink. God knows I would sooner some one else did it! But none can do itso fitly as I--because no one else has loved you as I have. I expectedtoo much of you, you say? The only thing I wanted of you was that youshould be faithful! I had so often been disappointed; but in you andyour quiet strength I thought I had splendid security that, as long asyou lived, our cause would bear itself proudly and confidently. It wasyour prestige that brought it into being; your wealth that supported it. It did not cry aloud for the blood of martyrs!--You were the happinessof my life; my soul renewed its strength from yours. 

Gran. Old friend--!

Flink. I was old, and you were young! Your nature was a harmoniouswhole--it was what I needed to lean upon. 

Gran. Flink, my dear old friend--!

Flink. And now, here you stand--a broken man, and our whole cause brokenwith you; all our lives broken--at least mine is--

Gran. Don't say that!

Flink. You have destroyed my faith in mankind--and in myself, for I seewhat a mistake I made; but it will be the last I shall make! I took youto my heart of hearts--and now, the only thing I can do is to call youto account!

Gran. What do you want me to do? Tell me!

Flink. We must stand face to face--armed! You must die! (A pause. )

Gran (without seeming greatly surprised). Of the two of us, it will gohardest with you, old friend. 

Flink. You think your aim will be the surer of the two? (Goes towardsthe table. )

Gran. I was not thinking of that--but of what your life would beafterwards. I know you. 

Flink (opening the pistol-case). You need not be anxious! My lifeafterwards will not be a long one. What you have done has robbed me ofanything to live for in this generation, and I don't aspire to live tillthe next. So it is all over and done with! (Takes up the pistols. )

Gran. Do you mean _here_--?

Flink. Why not? We are alone here. 

Gran. The King is asleep in the next room. (Points to the door near hisdesk. )

Flink. The King here?

Gran. He came here to-night. 

Flink. Well, it will wake him up; he will have to wake up some time, anyway. 

Gran. It would be horrible! No!

Flink. Indeed? It is for his sake you have betrayed me. You did that assoon as ever you met him again. He has bewitched you. Let him hear andsee what he has done! (Holds out the pistols. ) Here!

Gran. Wait. What you have just said brings a doubt into my mind. Is notrevenge, after all, the motive for what you are doing?

Flink. Revenge?

Gran. Yes. Don't misunderstand me; I am not trying to shuffle out ofit. If I were free to choose, I would choose death rather than anythingelse. The King knows that, too. But I ask because there ought to be someserious reason for anything that may happen. I am not going to stand upand face a sentiment of revenge that is so ill-grounded. 

Flink (laying the pistols down). I hate the man who has led youastray--that is true. When I was giving you the reasons why I took uponmyself the task of calling you to account, perhaps I forgot that. I hatehim. But the instrument that carries out a sentence is one thing; thesentence itself is quite another. You arc sentenced to death because youhave betrayed our cause--and because you say that you were right to doso. The world shall learn what that costs. It costs a man's life. 

Gran. So be it!

Flink. The pistols are loaded. I loaded them myself. I imagine that youstill have trust in my honour?

Gran (with a smile). Indeed I have. 

Flink. One of them has a blank cartridge in it; the other is fullyloaded. Choose!

Gran. But what do you mean? Suppose I were to--?

Flink. Don't be afraid! Heaven will decide! _You_ will not choose thefully loaded one!--We shall stand face to face. 

Gran. You are settling everything--the sentence, the challenge, thechoice of weapons, the regulations for the duel--!

Flink. Are you dissatisfied with that?

Gran. By no means! You are quite welcome! We are to have no seconds? Sobe it. But the place?

Flink. The place? Here!

Gran. Horrible!

Flink. Why? (Holds out the two pistols to him. The door to the left isopened softly. ANNA looks in, sees what is going on, and rushes witha pitiful attempt at a scream to GRAN, putting her arms round himprotectingly, and caressing him with every sign of the utmost terror. )

Gran (bending down and kissing her). She is right! Why should I die forthe sake of dull theories, when I can hold life in my arms as I do now?A man who is loved has something left, after all. I won't die!

Flink. If you were not loved, my friend, you might be allowed to live. Acry of sorrow will be heard throughout the land, from the King's palaceto the meanest hovel, when you have been shot. And that is just whyI must do it! The louder the cry of sorrow, the greater will be thesilence afterwards. And in that silence is to be found the answer to thequestion "Why?" The people will not allow themselves to be cheated anylonger. 

Gran. Horrible! I won't do it! (Lifts ANNA in his arms as if she were achild. )

Flink (going up to him). It is no mere theory that you are facing. Lookat me!

Gran. Old friend--_must_ it be?

Flink. It _must_. I have nothing else left to do. 

Gran. But not here. 

Flink. Since it cannot be here, then come out into the park. (Puts thepistols into their case. ) You owe me that. 

Gran (to ANNA). You must go, my dear!

Flink (putting the pistol-case under his arm). No, let her stay here. But you come! (They all three move towards the door. ANNA will not letGRAN go, and there is a struggle until he, half commanding and halfentreating, persuades her to stay behind. The two men go out, shuttingthe door after them. She throws herself against the door, but it hasbeen locked on the outside. She sinks down to the floor in despair, then gets up, as if struck by a sudden idea, rushes into the room on theright, and almost immediately re-appears, dragging the KING after her. He is only half-dressed and has no shoes on. )

The King. What is it? (A shot is heard. ) What is it? (ANNA pulls him tothe door. He tries to open it, but in vain. She rushes to the window, with the KING after her. Meanwhile the door is opened from outside, andFALBE comes in, evidently overcome with emotion. ) What is it, Falbe?(ANNA runs out. )

Falbe. His Excellency the Minister of the Interior--

The King. Well, what of him?

Falbe. --has been assassinated!

The King. The Minister of the Interior?--Gran?

Falbe. Yes. 

The King. Gran?--What did you say?

Falbe. He has been assassinated!

The King. Gran? Impossible!--Where? Why? I heard his voice only justnow, here!

Falbe. That fellow shot him--the grey-haired fellow--the republican

The King. Flink? Yes, I heard his voice here too!

Falbe. It was in the park! I saw it myself!

The King. Saw it yourself? Wretch! (Rushes out. )

Falbe. How could I prevent a madman--? (Follows the KING. The doorstands open, and through it a man is seen running past, calling out:"Where?" Others follow him, and amidst the sound of hurrying feet, cries are heard of "Good God!"--"In the park, did you say?"--"A doctor!Fetch a doctor!"--"Who did it?"--"That fellow running towardsthe river!"--"After him! After him!"--"Fetch a barrow from theworks!"--After a while the KING returns alone, looking distracted. Hestands motionless and silent for some time. )

The King. What a happy smile there was on his face! Just as shesmiled!--Yes, it must be happiness! (Hides his face in his hands. ) Andhe died for me too! My two only--. (Breaks down. ) So that is the pricethey have to pay for loving me!--And at once! At once!--Of course! Ofcourse! (The sound of the crowd returning is heard, and cries of: "Thisway!"--"Into the blue room!" Women and children come streaming in, allin tears, surrounding ANNA and the men that are carrying GRAN'S body, and follow them into the room on the left. Cries are heard of: "Whyshould he die?"--"He was so good!"--"What had he done to deserveit!"--"He was the best man in the world!")

The King. "He was the best man in the world!" Yes. And he died for mysake! That means something good of me!--the best possible! Are they twotogether now, I wonder? Oh, let me have a sign!--or is that too much toask? (The crowd come out again, sobbing and weeping, and cries are heardof: "He looks so beautiful and peaceful!"--"I can't bring myself tobelieve it!" When they see the KING, they hush their voices, and all goout as quietly as they can. When they have gone out, the MAYOR's voiceis heard asking: "Is he in here?" and an answer: "No, in the blue room, over there. " Then the GENERAL'S voice: "And the murderer escaped?"--Ananswer: "They are looking for him in the river!"--The GENERAL'S voice:"In the river? Did he jump into the river?"--The PRIEST's voice:"Shocking!" A few moments later the GENERAL with BANG, the MAYOR, andthe PRIEST come in from the other room. They stop on seeing the KING, who is standing at the desk with his back to them, and whisper. )

The General. Isn't that the King?

The Others. The King?

The Mayor. Is the King back? He must have come in the night!

Bang. Let me see!--I know him personally. 

The General (holding him back). Of course it is the King. 

The Mayor. Really?

Bang. I recognise him by his agitation! It is he. 

The General. Hush! Let us go quietly out again! (They begin to moveoff. )

The Mayor. He is grieved. Naturally. 

Bang. First of all her death; and then this--!

The Priest. It is the judgment of heaven!

The King (turning round). Who is that? What? (Comes forward. ) Who saidthat? (They all stop, take off their hats and bow. ) Come back! (Theycome back hastily. ) Who said: "It is the judgment of heaven"?

The General. Your Majesty must forgive us--we were just taking a littlestroll; I am here to spend Christmas with my friend Mr. Bang, who has afactory here--a branch of his works--and we happened to meet the Mayorand the Priest, and we joined company--and were strolling along when weheard a shot. A shot. We did not think anything more about it till wecame nearer here and saw people running, and heard a great outcry anddisturbance. Great disturbance--yes. We stopped, of course, and came tosee what it was. Came to see what it was, of course. And they told usthat the Minister of the Interior--

The King. What is all that to me! (The GENERAL bows. ) Who said: "It isthe judgment of heaven"? (No one speaks. ) Come, answer me!

The Mayor. It was the Priest--I fancy. 

The King (to the PRIEST). Haven't you the courage to tell me soyourself?

The General. Probably our reverend friend is unaccustomed to findhimself in the presence of royalty. 

The Priest. It is the first time that--that I have had the honour ofspeaking to your Majesty--I did not feel self-possessed enough, for themoment, to--

The King. But you were self-possessed enough when you said it! What didyou mean by saying it was "the judgment of heaven"?--I am asking youwhat you meant by it. 

The Priest. I really don't quite know--it slipped out--

The King. That is a lie! Some one said: "First of all her death, andthen this. " And you said: "It is the judgment of heaven. "

The Mayor. That is quite right, your Majesty. 

The King. First of all _her_ death? That meant the death of mybetrothed, didn't it?

Bang and The Priest. Yes, your Majesty. 

The King. "And then _this_" meant my friend--my dear friend! (Withemotion. ) Why did heaven condemn these two to death? (A pause. )

The General. It is most regrettable that we should, quite involuntarily, have disturbed your Majesty at a moment when your Majesty's feelingsare, naturally, so overcome--

The King (interrupting him). I asked you why heaven condemned these twoto death. (To the VICAR. ) You are a clergyman; cudgel your brains!

The Priest. Well, your Majesty, I was thinking that--I meant that--thatheaven had in a miraculous way checked your Majesty--

The General. "Ventured to check" would be more suitable, I think. 

The Priest. --from continuing in a course which many people thought sounfortunate--I mean, so fatal to the nation, and the church; had checkedyour Majesty--

The General (in an undertone). Ventured to check. 

The Priest. --by taking away from your Majesty the two persons who--thetwo persons who--in the first place the one who--

The King. The one who--?

The Priest. Who was--

The King. Who was--? A harlot that wanted to sit on the throne?

The Priest. Those are your Majesty's word, not mine. (Wipes hisforehead. )

The King. Confess that they express what you meant!

The Priest. I confess that I have heard--that people say--that--

The King. Pray to heaven that for a single day your thoughts may be aspure as hers were every day. (Bursts into tears. Then says impetuously. )How long have you been a clergyman?

The Priest. Fifteen years, your Majesty. 

The King. Then you were already ordained at the time when I was leadinga dissolute life. Why did you never say anything to me then?

The Priest. My most gracious King--

The King. God is the only "most gracious King"! Do not speak blasphemy!

The Priest. It was not my duty to--

The General. Our friend is not a court chaplain. He has merely a parishin the town here--

The Mayor. And his work lies chiefly among the factory hands. 

The King. And so it is not your duty to speak the truth to me--butto attack my dear dead friends by prating about heaven's judgment andrepeating vile lies? Is that your duty?

The Mayor. I only had the honour to know one of the--the deceased. YourMajesty honoured him with your friendship; the greatest honour a subjectcan enjoy. I should like to say that one would rarely find a noblerheart, a loftier mind, or more modest fidelity, than his. 

The General. I should like, if I may make so bold, to make use ofthe opportunity chance has afforded me of associating myself with mysovereign's sorrow, a sorrow for which his whole people must feel thedeepest respect, but especially those who, in consequence of their highposition, are more particularly called upon to be the pillars of themonarchy; to use this opportunity, I say--and to do so, I know, as therepresentative of many thousands of your Majesty's subjects--to voicethe sympathy, the unfeigned grief, that will be poured forth at the newsof this new loss which has wrung your Majesty's heart--a loss whichwill reawaken consternation in the country and make it more than evernecessary to take the severest possible measures against a party towhich nothing is sacred, neither the King's person nor the highestdignities of office nor the inviolability of the home--a party whosevery existence depends on sedition and ought no longer to be tolerated, but ought, as the enemy of the throne and of society, to be visited withall the terrors of the law, until--

The King. What about compassion, my friend?

The General. Compassion?

The King. Not for the republicans--but for me!

The General. It is just the compassion which the whole nation will feelfor your Majesty that compels me, in spite of everything, to invoke theintervention of justice at this particular crisis! Terror--

The King. --must be our weapon?

The General. Yes! Can any one imagine a more priceless proof of the carethat a people have for their King, than for the gravely anxious tonesof their voice to be heard, at this solemn moment, crying: Down with theenemies of the throne!

The King (turning away). No, _I_ haven't thews and sinews for that lie!

The Mayor. I must say I altogether agree with the General. The feelingof affection, gratitude, esteem--

The General. --the legacy of devotion that your Majesty's ancestors ofblessed memory--

The King (to the Priest). You, sir--what does my ancestors being "ofblessed memory" mean?

The Priest (after a moment's thought). It is a respectful manner ofalluding to them, your Majesty. 

The King. A respectful lie, you mean. (A pause. ANNA comes out of theroom on the left and throws herself at the KING'S feet, embracing hisknees in despairing sorrow. ) Ah, here comes a breath of truth!--And youcome to me, my child, because you know that we two can mourn together. But I do not weep, as you do; because I know that for a long time he hadbeen secretly praying for death. He has got his wish now. So you mustnot weep so bitterly. You must wish what he wished, you know. Ah, whatgrief there is in her eyes! (Sobs. )

(The GENERAL signs to the others that they should all withdraw quietly, without turning round. They gradually do so; but the KING looks up andperceives what they are doing. )

The General. Out of respect for your Majesty's grief, we were going to--

The King. Silence! With my hand on the head of this poor creature, whoused to trust so unassumingly and devotedly to his goodness of heart, I wish to say something in memory of my friend. (ANNA clings to him, weeping. The others come respectfully nearer, and wait. ) Gran wasthe richest man in the country. Why was it that he had no fear ofthe people? Why was it that he believed that its salvation lay in theoverthrow of the present state of affairs?

Bang. Mr. Gran, with all his great qualities, was a visionary. 

The King. He had not inherited all of his vast fortune; he had amassed agreat part of it himself. 

Bang. As a man of business, Mr. Gran was beyond all praise. 

The King. And yet a visionary? The two things are absolutelycontradictory. --You once called me "the padlock on your cash-box. "

Bang. I allowed myself, with all respect, to make that jest--which, nevertheless, was nothing but the serious truth!

The King. Why did he, who has met his death, consider that the securityfor _his_ cash-box came from those _below_ him, as long as he did whatwas right, and not from those above him? Because he understood thetimes. No question of selfishness stood in the way of his doingthat. --That is my funeral oration over him!--(To ANNA. ) Get up, my dear!Did you understand what I was saying? Do not weep so! (She clings tohim, sobbing. )

The Priest. He was a very great man! When your Majesty speaks so, Ifully recognise it. But your Majesty may be certain that, though we maynot have been so fortunate as to see so far ahead and so clearly--thoughour mental horizon may be narrow--we are none the less loyal to yourMajesty for that, nor less devoted! It is our duty as subjects to sayso, although your Majesty in your heaviness of heart seems to forgetit-seems to forget that we, too, look for everything from your Majesty'sfavour, wisdom and justice. (Perspires freely. )

The King. It is very strange! My dear friend never said anything likethat to me. (A pause. ) He had the most prosperous business in thecountry. When I came to him and asked him to abandon it, he did so atonce. And in the end he died for me. That is the sort of man he was. (ToANNA. ) Go in to him, my dear! You are the very picture of dumb loyalty. Although I do not deserve to have such as you to watch by my side, still, for the sake of him who is dead, I shall have you to do so whenI too--. (Breaks off. ) Yes, yes, go in there now! I shall come. Do youunderstand? I shall come. (ANNA moves towards the other room. ) There, that's it! (He repeats his words to her every time she looks back as shegoes. ) Yes, directly!--That's it!--In a very little while! Go now!

Bang. Excuse me, your Majesty, but it is terribly hot in here, and theaffection of my heart which troubles me is attacking me painfully. Willyour Majesty be pleased to allow me to withdraw?

The Mayor. With all respect, I should like to be allowed to make thesame request. Your Majesty is obviously very much upset, and I am surewe are all unwilling that our presence--which, indeed, was unintentionaland unsought by us--should augment a distress of mind which is sonatural in one of your Majesty's noble disposition, and so inevitableconsidering the deep sense of gratitude your Majesty must feel towards afriend who--

The King (interrupting him). Hush, hush! Let us have a little respectfor the truth in the presence of the dead! Do not misunderstand me--I donot mean to say that any of you would lie wilfully; but the atmospherethat surrounds a king is infected. And, as regards that--just a word ortwo. I have only a short time. But as a farewell message from me--

The Priest. A farewell message?

The King. --give my greeting to what is called Christianity in thiscountry. Greet it from me! I have been thinking a great deal aboutChristian folk lately. 

The Priest. I am glad to hear it!

The King. Your tone jars on me! Greet those who call themselvesChristians--. Oh! come, come--don't crane your necks and bend your backslike that, as if the most precious words of wisdom were about to dropfrom my lips! (To himself. ) Is it any use my saying anything serious tothem? (Aloud. ) I suppose you are Christians?

The General. Why, of course! Faith is invaluable--

The King. --in preserving discipline? (To the Mayor. ) How about you?

The Mayor. I was taught by my parents, of blessed memory--

The King. Oh, so they are "of blessed memory" too, are they? Well, whatdid they teach you?

The Mayor. To fear God, honour the King--

The King. --and love the brotherhood! You are a public official, Mr. Mayor. That is what a Christian is, nowadays. (To BANG. ) And you?

Bang. Of late I have been able to go so little to church, because of mycough. And in that unwholesome atmosphere--

The King. --you go to sleep. But you are a Christian?

Bang. Undoubtedly!

The King (to the Priest). And you are one, of course?

The Priest. By the grace of God I hope so!

The King (snapping his fingers). Yes, that is the regulation formula, my good fellow! You all answer by the card! Very well, then--you area community of Christians; and it is not my fault if such acommunity refuses to take any serious interest in what really affectsChristianity. Tell it from me that it ought to keep an eye on themonarchy. 

The Priest. Christianity has nothing to do with such things. It concernsonly the souls of men!

The King (aside). That voice. (Aloud. ) I know--it does not concernitself with the air a patient breathes, but only with his lungs!Excellent!--All the same, Christianity ought to keep an eye on themonarchy. Ought to tear the falsehood away from it! Ought not to go incrowds to stare at a coronation in a church, like apes grinning at apeacock! I know what I felt at that moment. I had rehearsed it all oncethat morning already--ha, ha! Ask your Christianity if it may not beabout time for it to interest itself a little in the monarchy? Itseems to me that it scarcely ought any longer to allow monarchy, likea seductive harlot, to keep militarism before the people's eyes asan ideal--seeing that that is exactly contrary to the teachings ofChristianity, or to encourage class divisions, luxury, hypocrisy andvanity. Monarchy has become so all-pervading a lie that it infects eventhe most upright of men. 

The Mayor. But I don't understand, your Majesty!

The King. Don't you? You are an upright man yourself, Mr. Mayor--a mostworthy man. 

The Mayor. I do not know whether your Majesty is pleased to jest again?

The King. In sober earnest, I say you are one of the most upright ofmen. 

The Mayor. I cannot tell your Majesty how flattered I am to hear yourMajesty say so!

The King. Have you any decorations?

The Mayor. Your Majesty's government has not, so far, deigned to casttheir eyes on me. 

The King. That fault will be repaired. Be sure of that!

The General (to the Mayor). To have that from his Majesty's own mouthis equivalent to seeing it gazetted. I am fortunate to be able to be thefirst to congratulate you!

Bang. Allow me to congratulate you also!

The Priest. And me too! I have had the honour of working hand in handwith you, Mr. Mayor, for many years; I know how well deserved such adistinction is. 

The Mayor. I feel quite overcome; but I must beg to be allowed to lay mythanks at your Majesty's feet. I trust I shall not prove unworthy of thedistinction. One hesitates to make such confessions--but I am a candidman, and I admit that one of the chief aims of my ambition has been tobe allowed some day to participate in--

The King (interrupting him). --in this falsehood. That just pointsmy moral. As long as even upright men's thoughts run in that mould, Christianity cannot pretend to have any real hold on the nation. As foryour decoration, you are quite sure to get one from my successor. --Ina word, Christianity must tackle monarchy! And if it cannot tear thefalsehood from it without destroying it, then let it destroy it!

The General. Your Majesty!

The King (turning to him). The same thing applies to a standing army, which is a creation of monarchy's. I do not believe that such aninstitution--with all its temptations to power, all its inevitable vicesand habits--could be tolerated if Christianity were a living thing. Awaywith it!

The Priest. Really, your Majesty--!

The King (turning to him). The same applies to an establishedchurch--another of monarchy's creations! If we had in our country aChristianity worth the name, that salvation trade would stink in men'snostrils. Away with it!

The Mayor (reproachfully). Oh, your Majesty!

The King (turning on him). The same applies to the artificial disparityof circumstances that you prate about with tears in your eyes! I heardyou once. Class distinctions are fostered by monarchy. 

Bang. But equality is an impossibility!

The King. If _you_ would only make it possible--which it can bemade--even the socialists would cease to clamour for anything else. Itell you this: Christianity has destroyed ideals. Christianity lives ondogmas and formulas, instead of on ideals. 

The Priest. Its ideals lead us away from earth to heaven--

The King. Not in a balloon, even if it were stuffed full of all thepages of the Bible! Christianity's ideals will lead to heaven only whenthey are realised on earth--never before. 

The Priest. May I venture to say that Christianity's ideal is a piouslife. 

The King. Yes. But does not Christianity aim at more than that, or is itgoing to be content with making some few believers?

The Priest. It is written: "Few are chosen. "

The King. Then it has given up the job in advance?

The Mayor. I think our friend is right, that Christianity has neveroccupied itself with such things as your Majesty demands of it. 

The King. But what I mean is, could it not bring itself to do so?

The Priest. If it did, it would lose sight of its _inner_ aim. Theearliest communities are the model for a Christian people!

The King (turning away from him). Oh, have any model you like, so longas it leads to something!

The General. I must say I am astonished at the penetration your Majestyslows even into the deepest subjects. 

Bang. Yes, I have never heard anything like it! I have not had theadvantage of a university education, so I don't really understand it. 

The King. And to think that I imagined that I should find my allies, my followers, in Christian people! One is so reluctant to give up _all_hope! I thought that a Christian nation would storm the strongholds oflies in our modern, so-called Christian communities--storm them, capturethem!--and begin with monarchy, because that would need most courage, and because its falsehood lies deepest and goes farthest. I thought thatChristianity would one day prove to be the salt of the earth. No, do_not_ greet Christianity from me. I have said nothing, and do not meanit. I am what men call a betrayed man--betrayed by all the most idealpowers of life. There! Now I have done!

The General. But what does your Majesty mean? Betrayed? By whom? Who arethe traitors? Really--!

The King. Pooh! Think it over!--As a matter of fact I am the only onethat has been foolish. 

Bang. Your Majesty, just now you were so full of vigour--!

The King. Don't let that astonish you, my friend! I am a mixture ofenthusiasm and world-weariness; the scion of a decrepit race isnot likely to be any better than that, you know! And as for being areformer--! Ha, ha! Well, I thank you all for having listened to me sopatiently. Whatever I said had no significance--except perhaps that, like the oysters, I had to open my shell before I died. --Good-bye!

The General. I really cannot find it in my heart to leave your Majestywhen your Majesty is in so despondent a humour. 

The King. I am afraid you will have to try, my gallant friend!--Don'tlook so dejected, Mr. Mayor!--Suppose some day serious-minded menshould feel just as humiliated at such falsehoods existing as you donow because you have not been allowed to participate in them. I mightperhaps be able to endure being king then! But as things are now, I amnot strong enough for the job. I feel as if I had been shouldered outof actual life on to this strip of carpet that I am standing on! That iswhat my attempts at reform have ended in!

The Mayor. May I be allowed to say that the impression made on my mindby the somewhat painful scene we have just gone through is that yourMajesty is overwrought. 

The King. Mad, you mean?

The Mayor. God forbid I should use such a word of my King!

The King. Always punctilious!--Well, judging by the fact that every oneelse considers themselves sane, I must undoubtedly be the mad one. Itis as simple as a sum in arithmetic. --And, in all conscience, isn'tit madness, when all is said and done, to take such trifles so much toheart?--to bother about a few miserable superannuated forms that are notof the slightest importance?--a few venerable, harmless prejudices?--afew foolish social customs and other trumpery affairs of that sort?

The General. Quite so!

The Mayor. Your Majesty is absolutely right!

Bang. I quite agree!

The Priest. It is exactly what I have been thinking all the time. 

The King. And probably we had better add to the list certainextravagant ideas--perhaps even certain dangerous ideas, like mine aboutChristianity?

The Priest (hastily and impressively). Your Majesty is mistaken on thesubject of Christianity. 

The Mayor. Christianity is entirely a personal matter, your Majesty. 

The General. Your Majesty expects too much of it. Now, as a comfort forthe dying--!

The King. And a powerful instrument of discipline. 

The General (smiling). Ah, your Majesty!

Bang (confidentially). Christianity is no longer such a serious matternowadays, except for certain persons--. (Glances at the PRIEST. )

The King. All I have to say on the head of such unanimous approvalis this: that in such a shallow society, where there is no particulardistinction between lies and truth, because most things are mereforms without any deeper meaning--where ideals are considered to beextravagant, dangerous things--it is not so _very_ amusing to be alive. 

The General. Oh, your Majesty! Really, you--! Ha, ha, ha!

The King. Don't you agree with me?--Ah, if only one could grapple withit!--but we should need to be many to do that, and better equipped thanI am. 

The General. Better equipped than your Majesty? Your Majesty is the mostgifted man in the whole country!

All. Yes!

The General. Yes--your Majesty must excuse me--I spoke involuntarily!

The Mayor. There was a tone running through all your Majesty said thatseemed to suggest that your Majesty was contemplating--. (Breaks off. )

The King. --going away? Yes. 

All. Going away?

The General. And abdicating? For heaven's sake, your Majesty--!

Bang. That would mean handing us over to the crown prince--the pietist!

The Priest (betraying his pleasure in spite of himself). And his mother!

The King. You are pleased at the idea, parson! It will be a sight tosee her and her son prancing along, with all of you in your best clothesfollowing them! Hurrah!

The General. Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho!

Bang. Ha-ha-ha! (Coughs. ) I get such a cough when I laugh. 

The King (seriously). I had no intention of provoking laughter in thepresence of death. I can hear the sounds of mourning through the opendoor. 

The Mayor. With all due respect to the church--the vast majority of thenation have no desire for things to come to _that_--to the accession ofa pietist to the throne. If your Majesty threatens to abdicate you willhave us all at your feet. 

The General (with decision). The accession of a new king just now wouldbe universally considered a national calamity. I will wager my life onthat!

Bang. And I too!

The King. My excellent friends--you must take the consequences of youractions!

The Mayor (despairingly). But _this_! Who ever imagined such a thing?

The General and Bang. No one--no one!

The King. So much the worse. What is it you are asking me to do? Tostay where I am, so as to keep another man down? Is that work for a man?Shame!

The Mayor (in distress). We ask more than that! Your Majesty is making afatal mistake! The whole of your Majesty's dissatisfaction springs fromthe fact that you believe yourself to be deserted by your people becausethe elections are going contrary to what your Majesty had hoped. Nothingis further from the truth! The people fight shy of revolutionary ideas;but they love their King!

Bang. They love their King!

The King. And that white dove, who came confidently to my hand--she hadsome experience of what their love was!

The Mayor. The King's associates may displease the people; ideas mayalter; but love for their King endures!

The Others. Endures!

The King. Cease! Cease!

The General (warmly). Your Majesty may command us to do anything exceptrefrain from giving utterance to a free people's freely offered homageof devotion, loyalty, and love for its royal house!

The Mayor (emotionally). There is no one who would not give his life forhis King!

Bang, The General, and The Priest. No one!

The General. Try us! (They all press forward. )

The King. Done with you! (Takes a revolver from his pocket. ) Sinceyesterday I have carried this little thing in my pocket. (They all lookalarmed. )

The Priest. Merciful heavens!

The King (holding out the revolver to him). Will you die for me? If so, I will continue to be King. 

The Priest. I? What does your Majesty mean? It would be a great sin!

The King. You love me, I suppose?

All (desperately). Yes, your Majesty!

The King. Those who love, believe. Therefore, believe me when I saythis: If there is a single one of you who, without thinking twice aboutit, will die for his King now--here--at once--then I shall consider thatas a command laid upon me to go on living and working. 

The Mayor (in a terrified whisper). He is insane!

The General (whispers). Yes!

The King. I can hear you!--But I suppose you love your King, even if heis insane?

All (in agitated tones). Yes, your Majesty!

The King. Majesty, majesty! There is only One who has any majesty aboutHim--certainly not a madman! But if I have been driven mad by the liesthat surround me, it would be a holy deed to make me sound again. Yousaid you would die for me. Redeem your words! That will make me wellagain!--You, General?

The General. My beloved King, it would be--as our reverend friend soaptly put it--a most dreadful sin. 

The King. You have let slip a splendid opportunity for showing yourheroism. --You ought to have seen that I was only putting you to thetest!--Good-bye! (Goes into the room on the left. )

The General. Absolutely insane!

The Others. Absolutely. 

The Mayor. Such great abilities, too! What might not have been made ofhim!

Bang. The pity of it!

The Priest. I got so alarmed. 

Bang. So did I! (A loud pistol-shot is heard. )

The Priest. Another shot? (A pitiful woman's cry is heard from the otherroom. )

The Mayor. What on earth was that?

Bang. I daren't think!

The Priest. Nor I! (An old woman rushes out of the room on the left, calling out: "Help!--Help!--The King!" and hurries out at the back, calling: "The King! Help, help!" The GENERAL and the MAYOR rush intothe other room. Voices are heard outside asking: "The King?--Was it theKing?" The confusion and uproar grows. In the midst of it ANNA comesstumbling out of the other room, her hands stretched out before her, asif she did not know where she was going. The noise and confusion growslouder every minute, and crowds of people come rushing into the roomfrom outside as the Curtain falls. )