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ACT III - SCENE I
(SCENE.--DR. NORDAN'S garden, behind his neat one-storied house.
He is sitting on a chair in the foreground reading. His old
servant, THOMAS, opens the how door and looks out.)
Thomas. Doctor!
Nordan. What is it? (ALFRED comes into sight in the doorway.) Oh,
it is you! (Gets up.) Well, my boy? You don't look up to much!
Alfred. No, but never mind that. Can you give me a bit of
breakfast?
Nordan. Have you had no breakfast yet? Have you not been home
then?--not been home all night?--not since yesterday? (Calls)
Thomas!
Alfred. And when I have had something to eat, may I have a talk
with you?
Nordan. Of course, my dear boy. (To THOMAS, who has come out
of the house) Get some breakfast laid in that room, please
(pointing to a window on the left).
Alfred. And may I have a wash too?
Nordan. Go with Thomas. I will be with you directly. (ALFRED and
THOMAS go into the house. Then a carriage is heard stopping
outside.) There is a carriage. Go and see who it is, Thomas. I
won't see any patients! I am going away to-morrow.
Thomas. It is Mr. Christensen. (Goes into the house again.)
Nordan. Oho! (Goes to the window on the left.) Alfred!
Alfred (coming to the window). Yes?
Nordan. It is your father! If you do not want to be seen, pull
down the blind. (The blind is dulled dawn.)
Thomas (showing in CHRISTENSEN). Will you come this way please,
sir. (CHRISTENSEN is in court dress protected by a dustcoat, and
wears the cross of a Knight Commander of the Order of St. Olaf.)
Christensen. I hope I do not disturb you, doctor?
Nordan. Not at all!--In full dress! I congratulate you.
Christensen. Yes, we newly-fledged knights have to go to Court
to-day. But do you mind if I spend a minute or two here with you
before I go on to the palace?--Any news from over there? From the
Riis's?
Nordan. No. They are sitting waiting for the "war" to begin, I
expect.
Christensen. They shall not have to wait long, then! I have made
up my mind to begin it to-day. Has she come to her senses, by any
chance? Women usually feel things like that very acutely. But
they usually get over it, too.
Nordan. I do not think so. But I bow before your experience.
Christensen. Thank you! I should think that, as an old hand at
playing the buffer in family jars, you had a much greater
experience. Yesterday she was like an electric eel! And she gave
her shock, too! The boy has not been home since. I am almost glad
of that; it shows he has some sense of shame. I was beginning to
doubt it.
Nordan. It is the coming "war" that interests me.
Christensen. Oh, you are anxious to see that, are you? Very well.
As a matter of fact there is no need to draw up a plan of
campaign. That affair of Mrs. North's can be taken up again any
day, my dear fellow! It is in the hands of the bank, you know.
Nordan. But what has that to do with your son engagement?
Christensen. What has it to do with it? Miss Riis gives my son
his dismissal because she cannot tolerate his conduct before
marriage. Her own father indulges in the same sort of conduct
when he is well on in married life! Tableau vivant tres curieux!
--to use a language Mr. Riis is very fond of.
Nordan. It is a shame to talk like that--because your son is the
only one to blame in this matter.
Christensen. My son is not in the least to blame in the matter!
He has not done the slightest thing that could harm or discredit
the Riis's--not the slightest thing! He is a man of honour, who
has given Miss Riis his promise and has kept it. Will any one
dare to contradict that? Or to suggest that he will not keep his
promise? If any one doubts him, it is an insult. Dr. Nordan! In
this matter the alternatives are either an apology and peace--or
war. For I am not going to put up with this sort of thing; and if
my son puts up with it, I shall despise him.
Nordan. Oh, I quite believe your son had every honourable
intention when he gave his promise. And very likely he would
have kept it, too; I cannot say for certain, because I have learnt
to doubt. I am a doctor--I have seen too much--and he did not
appear to great advantage yesterday. You really must forgive
my saying so--but after the liveliness of his young days, coupled
with the tendencies he has inherited, do you think he really had
any right to be surprised if people doubted him?--if his fiancee
doubted him? Had he really any right to feel insulted, or to
demand apologies? Apologies for what? For having doubted his
virtue?--Just consider that!
Christensen. Why, what--?
Nordan. One moment! I was only half done. You said something
about a reconciliation, you know; of course by that you meant a
marriage. If your son is willing to marry a woman who distrusts
him, then I shall despise him.
Christensen. Really--!
Nordan. Yes, indeed I shall. Our opinions are as different as all
that. To my way of thinking, your son's only course is to submit
--and wait; to keep silence, and wait--always supposing, of
course, that he still loves her. That is my view of it.
Christensen. Well, I imagine that there are very few candidates
for matrimony who have not been guilty of what my son has been
guilty of; indeed, I am sure of it. And I imagine, too, that they
have the same unfortunate "hereditary tendencies"--an expression
on which you laid stress out of special friendship for me. But is
that any reason why girls who are betrothed should behave as Miss
Riis has been doing?--scream, and run away, and create a scandal?
We should not be able to hear ourselves speak! It would be the
queerest sort of anarchy the world has ever seen! Why, such
doctrines as that are contrary to the very nature and order of
things! They are mad! And when, into the bargain, they are thrown
at our heads as if they were decisions of a High Court of
Morality--well, then I strike! Good-bye! (Starts to go, but turns
back.) And who is it that these High Court of Morality's
decisions would for the most part affect, do you suppose? Just
the ablest and most vigorous of our young men. Are we going to
turn them out and make a separate despised caste of them? And
what things would be affected, do you suppose? A great part of
the world's literature and art; a great part of all that is
loveliest and most captivating in the life of to-day; the world's
greatest cities, most particularly--those wonders of the world--
teeming with their millions of people! Let me tell you this: the
life that disregards marriage or loosens the bonds of marriage,
or transforms the whole institution--you know very well what I
mean--the life that is accused of using the "weapons of
seduction" in its fashions, its luxury, its entertainments, its
art, its theatre--that life is one of the most potent factors in
these teeming cities, one of the most fruitful sources of their
existence! No one who has seen it can have any doubt about it,
however ingenuous he may pretend to be. Are we to wish to play
havoc with all that too?--to disown the flower of the world's
youth, and ruin the world's finest cities? It seems to me that
people wish to do so much in the name of morality, that they
end by wishing to do what would be subversive of all morality.
Nordan. You are certainly embarking on your little war in the
true statesmanlike spirit!
Christensen. It is nothing but sound common-sense, my dear sir;
that is all that is necessary, I am sure. I shill have the whole
town on my side, you may be certain of that!
Thomas (appearing at the house door). Doctor!
Nordan (turning round). Is it possible! (Hurries to the doorway,
in which MRS. RIIS appears.)
Mrs. Riis. May I--?
Nordan. Of course! Will you come out here?
Mrs. Riis (to CHRISTENSEN, who bows to her). My visit is really
to you, Mr. Christensen.
Christensen. I am honoured.
Mrs. Riis. I happened to look out into the street just as your
carriage stopped and you got out. So I thought I would seize the
opportunity--because you threatened us yesterday, you know. Is
that not so? You declared war against us?
Christensen. My recollection of it is that war was declared, Mrs.
Riis, but that I merely accepted the challenge.
Mrs. Riis. And what line is your campaign going to take, if I may
ask the question?
Christensen. I have just had the honour of explaining my position
to the doctor. I do not know whether it would be gallant to do as
much to you.
Nordan. I will do it, then. The campaign will be directed against
your husband. Mr. Christensen takes the offensive.
Mrs. Riis. Naturally!--because you know you can strike at him.
But I have come to ask you to think better of it.
Christensen (with a laugh). Really?
Mrs. Riis. Once--many years ago now--I took my child in my arms
and threatened to leave my husband. Thereupon he mentioned the
name of another man, and shielded himself behind that--for it was
a distinguished name. "See how lenient that man's wife is," he
said. "And, because she is so, all her friends are lenient, and
that will be all the better for their child." Those were his
words.
Christensen. Well, as far as the advice they implied was
concerned, it was good advice--and no doubt you followed it.
Mrs. Riis. The position of a divorced woman is a very
humiliating one in the eyes of the world, and the daughter of
such a woman fares very little better. The rich and distinguished
folk who lead the fashion take care of that.
Christensen. But what--?
Mrs. Riis. That is my excuse for not having the courage to leave
him. I was thinking of my child's future. But it is my husband's
excuse, too; because he is one of those who follows the example
of others.
Christensen. We all do that, Mrs. Riis.
Mrs. Riis. But it is the leaders of society that set the example,
for the most part; and in this matter they set a tempting one. I
suppose I can hardly be mistaken in thinking that I have heard
your view of this matter, all along, through my husband's mouth?
Or, if I am mistaken in that, I at all events surely heard it
more accurately yesterday, when I heard your voice in everything
that your son said?
Christensen. I stand by every word of what my son said.
Mrs. Riis. I thought so. This campaign of yours will really be a
remarkable one! I see your influence in everything that has
happened, from first to last. You are the moving spirit of the
whole campaign--on both sides!
Nordan. Before you answer, Christensen--may I ask you, Mrs. Riis,
to consider whether you want to make the breach hopelessly
irreparable? Do you mean to make a reconciliation between the
young people quite impossible?
Mrs. Riis. It is impossible, as it is.
Nordan. Why?
Mrs. Riis. Because all confidence is destroyed.
Nordan. More so now than before?
Mrs. Riis. Yes. I will confess that up to the moment. When
Alfred's word of honour was offered yesterday--up to the moment
when he demanded that his word of honour should be believed--I
did not recognise the fact that it was my own story over again.
But it was--word for word my own story! That was just the way we
began; who will vouch for it that the sequel would not be the
same as in our case?
Christensen. My son's character will vouch for that, Mrs. Riis!
Mrs. Riis. Character? A nice sort of character a man is likely to
develop who indulges in secret and illicit courses from his
boyhood! That is the very way faithlessness is bred. If any one
wants to know the reason why character is such a rare thing, I
think they will find the answer in that.
Christensen. A man's youth is by no means the test of his life.
That depends on his marriage.
Mrs. Riis. And why should a man's faithlessness disappear when he
is married? Can you tell me that?
Christensen. Because then he loves, of course.
Mrs. Riis. Because he loves? But do you mean that he has not
loved before then? How absolutely you men have blinded yourselves!
--No, love is not the least likely to be lasting when the will
is vitiated. And that is what it is--vitiated by the life a
bachelor leads.
Christensen. And yet I know plenty of sensual men who have strong
wills.
Mrs. Riis. I am not speaking of strength of will, but of purity,
faithfulness, nobility of will.
Christensen. Well, if my son is to be judged by any such
nonsensical standard as that, I am devoutly thankful he has got
out of the whole thing before it became serious--indeed I am! Now
we have had enough of this. (Prepares to go.)
Mrs. Riis. As far as your son is concerned--. (Turns to NORDAN.)
Doctor, answer me this, so that his father may hear it before he
goes. When you refused to go with us to the betrothal party, had
you already heard some thing about Alfred Christensen? Was what
you had heard of such a nature that you felt you could not trust
him?
Nordan (after a moment's thought). Not altogether, certainly.
Mrs. Riis (to CHRISTENSEN). There, you hear!--But will you let me
ask you this, doctor: why did you not say so? Good God, why did
you not speak?
Nordan. Listen to me, Mrs. Riis. When two young people, who after
all are suited to one another--for they are that, are they not?
Christensen. They are that, I admit.
Nordan. When all of a sudden they fall madly in love with one
another, what are you to do?
Christensen. Oh, rake up all sorts of stories and exaggerations--
create a scandal!
Nordan. Indeed, I must confess--what as a matter of fact I have
said--that I have become accustomed to things not being exactly
as they should be in that respect. I looked upon these young
people's engagement in the same light as I have looked on others
--on most others--that is cruel to say, as a lottery. It might
turn out well; on the other hand it might turn out very badly.
Mrs. Riis. And you were willing to risk my daughter, whom you
are so fond of--for I know you are fond of her--in a lottery?
Could one possibly have a clearer proof of the real state of
things?
Nordan. Yes, certainly! You yourself, Mrs. Riis--what did you do?
Mrs. Riis. I--?
Christensen. Bravo!
Nordan. You knew what Hoff had said--and more too. (CHRISTENSEN
laughs quietly.) Nevertheless you helped your husband, if not
actually to try and get her to overlook it, at all events to
smooth things over.
Christensen. Bravo!
Nordan. And you called in my help to induce her to take time to
think it over.
Christensen. Mothers observe a considerable difference between
theory and practice in these matters, I notice.
Nordan. It was only when I saw how deeply it affected Svava--
what a horror she had of it--that my eyes were opened. And the
longer I listened to her, the more sympathy I felt for her; for I
was young myself once--and loved. But that was such a long time
ago--and I have grown tired--
Mrs. Riis (who has sat down at the little table). My God!
Nordan. Yes, Mrs. Riis. Let me tell you candidly--it is the
mothers, and no one else, that by degrees have made me callous.
Mothers look upon the whole thing so callously. The fact is that
as a rule they know what is what.
Christensen. That they do, the dear creatures! And Mrs. Riis is
no exception to the rule. You must admit, my dear madam, that you
did all you could to hold on to a young man who had had a lively
past? Not to mention the fact that this same young man had an
extremely good social position--a thing I only allude to
incidentally.
Nordan. Exactly. Rather than not give their daughters a prospect
of what they call "a good marriage" they straightway forget all
that they have suffered themselves.
Mrs. Riis. You see, we do not know that it will turn out the same
in their case.
Nordan. You don't know it?
Mrs. Riis. No, I tell you that I did not think so! We believe
that the man our daughter is going to marry is so much better. We
believe that in their case there are stronger guarantees--that
the circumstances are altogether different. It is so! It is a
kind of illusion that takes hold of us.
Christensen. When there is a prospect of a good marriage, yes! I
entirely agree with you, Mrs. Riis--for the first time. Moreover,
I think there is another side to it. Isn't it possible that women
have not suffered so much after all from the fact that men are
men? What? I fancy the suffering has been more acute than
serious--something like sea-sickness; when it is over--well, it
is over. And so when it is the daughters' turn to go on board,
the dear mothers think: "Oh, they will be able to get over it
too! Only let us get them off!" For they are so anxious to get
them off, that is the truth!
Mrs. Riis (getting up and coming forward). Well, if it is so,
surely it is nothing to make fun of! It only shows what a woman
can sink to, from living with a man.
Christensen Indeed!
Mrs. Riis. Yes--because each generation of women is endowed with
a stronger and stronger aspiration for a pure life. It results
unconsciously from the maternal instinct, and is intended as a
protection for the defenceless. Even worthless mothers feel that.
But if they succumb in spite of it, and each generation of
married women in its turn sinks as deep as you say, the reason of
it can only be the privilege that men enjoy as part of their
education.
Christensen. What privilege?
Mrs. Riis. That of living as they please when they are bachelors,
and then having their word of honour believed in when they choose
to enter the married state. As long as women are powerless to put
an end to that horrible privilege or to make themselves
independent of it, so long will one half of the world continue to
be sacrificed on account of the other half--on account of the
other half's lack of self-control. That one privilege turns out
to be more powerful than all the striving for liberty in the
world. And that is not a laughing matter.
Christensen. You are picturing to yourself a different world from
this, and different natures from ours, Mrs. Riis. And that--if
you will excuse my saying so--is obviously all the answer that is
necessary to what you say.
Mrs. Riis. Well, then, give that answer openly! Why do you not
openly acknowledge that as your standpoint?
Christensen. But don't we?
Mrs. Riis. No--not here, at all events. On the contrary, you
range yourselves ostensibly under our banner, while all the time
you are secretly betraying it. Why have you not the courage to
unfurl your own? Let these bachelor customs of yours be
sanctioned as entirely suitable--then we should be able to join
issue with you. And then every innocent bride would be able to
know what it is she is entering upon--and in what capacity.
Nordan. That would be simply nothing more or less than
abolishing marriage.
Mrs. Riis. Would not that be more honest, too? Because now it is
only being corrupted, long before it begins.
Christensen. Oh, of course it is all the men's fault! It is the
fashion to say that now--it is part of the "struggle for
freedom." Down with man's authority, of course!
Mrs. Riis. The authority his bachelor life has won for him!
Nordan. Ha, ha!
Mrs. Riis. Do not let us cover up the real issue with phrases!
Let us rather speak of the "desolate hearth" that the poet writes
of. Marriage laid in ruins is what he means by that; and what is
the cause of it? What is the cause of the chilly, horrible
commonplace of every-day life--sensual, idle, brutish? I could
paint it even more vividly, but I will not. I will refrain, for
instance, from bringing up the subject of hereditary disease. Let
the question be thrashed out openly! Then perhaps a fire will be
kindled--and our consciences stirred! It must become the most
momentous question in every home. That is what is needed!
Christensen. Our conversation has soared to such heights that it
really seems quite an anti-climax for me to say that I must go to
a "higher place"!--but you must excuse me all the same.
Mrs. Riis. I hope I have not delayed you?
Christensen. No, there is plenty of time. I am only longing
fervently--you really must not be offended--to get away from here.
Mrs. Riis. To your--equals?
Christensen. What a remarkable thing that you should remind me of
them! And, by the way, that reminds me that I am scarcely likely
to meet you or your family in future.
Mrs. Riis. No. Our acquaintance with you is at an end.
Christensen. Thank God for that!--All I hope now is that I shall
succeed in apportioning the ridicule with some degree of justice.
Mrs. Riis. You need only publish your autobiography!
Christensen. No--I think it should rather be your family
principles, madam! They are really very quaint. And when I relate
the manner in which they are put into practice by yourselves, I
rather think that people will be quite sufficiently amused. To
speak seriously for a moment--I mean to attack your husband's
reputation in private and in public, until he quits the town. I
am not the sort of man to accept a humiliation like this without
returning the compliment. (Turns to go.)
Nordan. This is shocking!
Alfred (appearing in the doorway of the house). Father!
Christensen. You here?--How ill you look, my boy! Where have you
been?
Alfred. I came here at the same time as you did, and have heard
everything. Let me tell you this at once, that if you take
another step against the Riis's, I shall go round and tell every
one the reason why Miss Riis threw me over. I shall tell them
exactly what it was. Oh, it is no use looking at me with that
mocking expression! I shall do it--and at once, too.
Christensen. I think you may spare yourself the trouble. The
gossip about a broken engagement will get all over the town
quicker than you could spread it.
Nordan (going up to ALFRED). One word, my boy--do you still love
her?
Alfred. Do you ask that because she has been unjust to me? Well,
now I know quite well what led to it--and inevitably led to it. I
understand now!
Christensen. And forgive her? Without anything more?
Alfred. I love her more than ever--whatever she thinks of me!
Christensen. Well, upon my word! What next, I should like to
know? You claim your right to resume the role of lover, and leave
us and other honest folk to put the best face we can on the
muddle you have made! I suppose you are going across the road now
to tell her how much you enjoyed yourself yesterday?--or to ask
for a respite till to-morrow, to give you time to pass decently
through a process of purification? May I ask where you are going
to find it and what it is going to consist of? Oh, don't look so
melodramatic! If you can put up with what you got from Riis's
girl yesterday and her mother to-day, surely you can put up with
a little angry talk or a little chaff from your father. I have
had to put up with the whole affair--the betrothal and the
breaking it off as well! And then to be sprinkled with essence of
morality into the bargain! Good Lord! I hope at least I shall not
smell of it still when I get to the palace. (Goes towards the
house, but turns back at the door.) You will find same money in
the office to pay for a trip abroad. (Exit.)
Nordan. Does that mean banishment?
Alfred. Of course it does. (Appears very much agitated.)
Mrs. Riis. Doctor, you must come over to our house with me--and
at once!
Nordan. How is she?
Mrs. Riis. I don't know.
Nordan. You don't know?
Mrs. Riis. She wanted to be alone yesterday. And to-day she
went out early.
Nordan. Has anything happened, then?
Mrs. Riis. Yes. You told me yesterday that you had given her a
hint about--her father.
Nordan. Well?
Mrs. Riis. And so I felt that it could not be concealed any
longer.
Nordan. And you have--?
Mrs. Riis. I have written to her.
Nordan. Written?
Mrs. Riis. It seemed the easiest way--and we should escape
talking about it. All yesterday afternoon and last night I was
writing, and tearing it up, and writing again--writing--writing!
It was not a long letter, when all was done, but it took it out
of me.
Nordan. And has she had the letter?
Mrs. Riis. When she had had her breakfast this morning and gone
out, I sent it after her. And now, my dear friend, I want to beg
you to go and have a talk with her--then you can let me know when
I may go to her. Because I am frightened! (Hides her face in her
hands.)
Nordan. The moment you came I saw something serious had happened.
You argued so vehemently, too. Well, matters have developed, and
no mistake!
Mrs. Riis. You mustn't go away, doctor! Don't go away from her
now!
Nordan. Oh, that is it, is it?--Thomas!
[Enter THOMAS.]
Thomas. Yes, sir.
Nordan. You need not pack my things.
Thomas. Not pack, sir?--Very good, sir. (Gives the doctor his
stick and goes to open the house door for them.)
Nordan. Allow me, Mrs. Riis. (Offers her his arm.)
Alfred (coming forward). Mrs. Riis! May I speak to her?
Mrs. Riis. Speak to her? No, that is impossible.
Nordan. You heard, my boy, what she has to think about to-day.
Mrs. Riis. And if she would not speak to you before, it is not
likely she will now.
Alfred. If she should ask to speak to me, will you tell her I am
here? I shall stay here till she does.
Mrs. Riis. But what is the use of that?
Alfred. Well, that will be our affair. I know she wants to speak
to me, just as much as I do to her. Only tell her I am here! That
is all I ask. (Goes away into the farther part of the garden.)
Nordan. He does not know what he is talking about.
Mrs. Riis. Dear Dr. Nordan, let us go! I am so frightened.
Nordan. Not more than I am, I think.--So she knows it now, does
she! (They go out.)
Content of ACT III - SCENE I [Bjornstjerne Bjornson's play: A Gauntlet]
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