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ACT II
(SCENE.--A street in the "villa quarter" of the town. Between it
and another street running parallel with it in the background, are
two houses standing in gardens, half of the facade of one of them
projecting into the stage on the right. On the left a third street
runs at right angles to the others, to the back of the stage. The
left side of this third street opens onto a well-wooded park.
The house in the foreground on the right is in two stories. There
is a narrow strip of garden in front of it, enclosed by an iron
railing with a gate in it. The gate is standing open. The entrance
door to the house is immediately behind this gate. There is light
in a small window by the door; the ground floor windows are in
darkness; in those of the upper floor, light is visible through
heavy curtains. It is a wintry evening, and everything is swathed
in an unusually thick fog, in which the gas lamps in the streets
show dimmer and dimmer as they recede in the distance. As the
curtain goes 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
the lamps are lit or not, in such a fog as this. (MRS. EVJE is seen
drawing back the curtain at a window on the first floor. She opens
the window and looks out.)
MRS. EVJE. The fog is so thick, my dear, that I can't see across
the street.
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 is shut and the curtains drawn. Two passers-by come
along the street from the right, talking.)
First Passer-by . The Land of Fogs--the old idea of the land of Fogs
was that of a vision of confused and faint sensation, with the
light of the intelligence dimmed and blurred like these gas lamps
in the fog.
Second Passer-by . It would be that, if our hearts did not often act
as guiding lights to our befogged intelligences. Look at this house
behind us--the brandy distiller's. The devilish workings of his
intelligence have befogged the whole country--befogged it with
brandy--and some such guiding light is much needed there.
First Passer-by . Ah, well,--the old idea of the Land of Fogs was
that fogs were--. (The sound of their conversation dies away as
they pass into 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 the street, then passed slowly along to the
right, looking up at the house as she goes. She is scarcely out of
sight when the house-door opens and EVJE comes out.)
EVJE. This is about the time he comes home--I daren't go to his
house and ask for him; I don't know if he would admit me. I
daren't trust to the Doctor alone.--This uncertainty is dreadful!
(He starts at seeing GERTRUD, whom he does not recognise in the
fog, walking towards him. She turns suddenly and walks back the
way she came.) Who was that? She gave me 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 high collar of his coat,
so that only his nose is visible.) Both of them called me a coward,
but they are very much mistaken. It is not cowardice for a man who
is respected and honoured to try and avoid scandal. Hm! Naturally
those who trade in scandals think otherwise!--To act without
attaching weight to the opinion of others, to disregard one's own
predilections, to put up with being laughed at--all for the sake of
preventing a scandal--that is to be strong and courageous. And it
_is_ admirable, too; for it is admirable to act fearlessly in the
interest of one's family, and of one's business, and of propriety.
(Starts as he hears his door opened. JOHN has come along the street
and gone into the house.) Is that some one coming out of my house?
No, it is a man going in. And then to think of Harald Rejn
beginning that nonsense about my being a coward, because I refused
to become a party man! Every one ought to take sides in politics--
that is their cry. Hm! I should say it required rather more
courage nowadays to _refrain_ from taking sides. (Starts again.) Who
is that? Oh, only that woman again. She is waiting for some one
too. I expect we shall both catch bad colds. (Walks up and down.)
It is an odd sensation to be walking up and down on the watch
outside one's own house. Cowardice? Pshaw! To let one's self be
abused in a public street without stirring a finger to prevent it,
_that_ would be cowardice. I only hope he has not gone round the
other way? There is much more traffic in that street, and some one
might easily--. I think I will take a turn towards the town, and
turn back when I am a little way from here; it will look less
suspicious. I must catch him, because his paper will be going to
press. (Looks up at his house.) My poor wife, sitting up there
dreadfully alarmed on my account! (Goes out to the right. As soon
as he has gone, the house-door opens and JOHN comes warily out.)
JOHN. So he has gone out, has he! Oh, well, he is bound to come in
again! I will wait and catch him, that I will! Tra, la, la, la, la!
I can play about here in the fog till he comes back; I have nothing
to lose! And it will be best to catch him in the street; he will
make less fuss, and can't run away from me! Tra, la, la, la, la!
(Lounges out to the right. A moment later, HARALD comes out of the
park. He is dressed much 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 that light; now I have seen it--and must go away! Good-bye, my
darling! Be patient, and wait! I know your thoughts are with me
now; and I know you feel that mine are with you! (As he turns away
from the house he sees the 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 glad embrace.)
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
felt that 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
the goal 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 shines clear through it all!
GERTRUD. Thank you, my darling! If that is so, there is nothing
that we cannot 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!
Even if I were, what matter? I should go on living as long as I
could--and should 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--
every time you are persecuted, or my parents on my account. Because
_I_ have drawn them into all this that, they are so unfitted for,
and that is why it 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 alter things. We are fighting for a cause that you
believe to be right, and so do I; surely that is better than never
to suffer at all in any good cause. Try me! Let me share the fight
with you! I am not weak; it is only 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
is following 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 be the same as you are now--good and genuine--won't you,
dear? Not like the rest of them--nothing but bitterness and malice,
always talking of principles and consequences and all the rest of
it, and always attacking others? If one were obliged to be like
that, it would be a curse to be a politician.
HARALD. I will be what you make me! I think that behind every man's
public 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 is to say, no real home.
GERTRUD. With God's help I shall try to make a bright, snug and
cosy home for you! And this fog is delightful, because it only
makes the thought of such a home all the cosier and snugger! It
makes us seem so alone, too; no one is out driving or walking; and
we can talk as loud as we please, because the fog deadens the sound
of our voices. Oh, I feel so happy again now! Do you know, I think
it is rather nice to be persecuted 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 had
altogether forgotten how much you have to bear just now; I have
been chattering away--. Oh, I don't know how I could feel so happy,
because I am really dreadfully distressed. But, you know, I sit the
whole play beside grandfather, thinking, without even being able to
talk. I generally read aloud to him; now and then he makes a
remark, but he really lives more in the next world than in this one
now. (They hear a cough in the distance, and give a start, because
they recognise it. The EDITOR and EVJE, walking along together,
EVJE apparently talking very earnestly, are seen, indistinctly
through the fog, in the street running parallel with the one HARALD
and GERTRUD are in. JOHN is seen following them cautiously. They
disappear into the park.)
HARALD. I hear the enemy! I am sure I caught a glimpse of him over
there through 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
and down 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
was your 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
how mother loves him; she is absolutely wrapped up in him, because
he is so good!
HARALD. He is a good man, and an able man. But, but, but--
GERTRUD. They have lived a very tranquil life. We of the younger
generation try to undertake heavier duties and greater responsibilities
than 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
to be amenable to it, he talks to them quietly; if not, he only
behaves affectionately to them. Do you understand, dear?--just
affectionately.
HARALD. Well, to-day--ought I to have put up with their allowing
themselves to be treated in such an unseemly way, and their
treating me in 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
arms round HARALD'S neck.) Be good to them, Harald!--just because
of their faults, dear! We are their children, you know, and it is
God's commandment, even if we were not their children.
HARALD. If only I could take you up in my arms and carry you off
home with me now! Your love takes possession of my heart and my
will, and purifies both of them. I am at a crisis in my life now--
and now you should be on my side!
GERTRUD. Listen!--to begin with, I will go with you to your meeting
to-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
with you 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 to the right.)
(The EDITOR and EVJE come out of the park. JOHN follows them,
unseen by them, and slips past them to the right when they stop for
a moment. The following conversation is carried on in hurried
tones, and every time the EDITOR raises his voice EVJE hushes him,
and speaks himself in a persistently lowered voice.)
EVJE. But what concern of yours--or of the public's--are my private
affairs? 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
talking about me!
EVJE. Hush, hush! What a fellow you are! You get into a rage if
any one chaffs 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
word some 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 dog days! (Changes his tone.) Think of the time when we used to
go to school together--when you never could go to bed without first
coming to thank me 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 not trust them!
EVJE. You must trust me!
The EDITOR. No--and, besides, I observed very clearly to-day that
you had 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
take them 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
very last 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
speaking of money. No; when I have been accused of being
dishonourable--of lying--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
damned evasions!
EVJE. Hush, hush, hush!
The EDITOR. You try to excuse yourself with a lie! You are doubly
a traitor!--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 the best 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
another kind, 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 take care to keep friends with a newspaper that may be able
to give you a helping hand in gaining what you want. Can you
deny it?
EVJE. There may be a slight tinge of calculation even in our
highest purposes. But the misfortune about you is that you can
see nothing but the calculation, though it may be only an
infinitesimal part of the whole 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--
who certainly would rather stand outside altogether, but
nevertheless give you their advice and support when you are in
difficulties. You cannot deny that.
The EDITOR. I have friends in the party? Oh yes; and if we lose a
fight these fine counsellors are the first to run away! They are
always egging me on and egging me on; but only let public opinion
once get tired of me, and they will throw me overboard without more
ado! By that sort of treachery they manage to fill the sails of the
party craft with a new breeze--and leave me to shift the best way I
can!--they, for whom I have fought with all my might and main! I
despise my opponents--they are either scoundrels and thieves, or
they are blockheads and braggarts. But my supporters are lick-spittles,
fools, cravens. I despise the whole pack of them, from first
to last! If any one would give me the assurance that if, as a
pledge that I would never use a pen again, I were to chop off my
right hand I should thereby gain the prospect of a peaceful life a
thousand miles away from here, I believe I would do it!--I despise
the whole pack of them--oh, how I despise them!
EVJE. But this is horrible! Do you find no comfort in religion? Or,
at all 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 of prosperity, or order, or whatever it is you cowards or
self-seekers like to imagine it is that you personify? No, the
whole human race is not worth 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 whole
thing seems so worthless to you?
The EDITOR. Do you seriously suppose that I would give in, so as to
spare you or some other shopkeeper?--so that you should be able to
say triumphantly, "You see he didn't dare! He didn't dare quarrel
with Capital!"--or, "You see he has given in--he has turned tail!"
No; what I should like to do would be to lay a mine underground,
and blow myself and the whole lot of you sky high!
EVJE. And I and all the happiness of my family life are to be
sacrificed in order that you shall not have to give in on a side
issue of no importance!--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
solemn nonsense! (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
know how you will like this one to-morrow morning.
EVJE. Then let me tell you that I solemnly refuse! I will not break
off the 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
away from 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 all
the stations your vanity or your fright will invent on the way?
(Moves away.)
EVJE. You mad creature--listen to me! (The EDITOR stops.) Tell me
exactly what you mean to do?
The EDITOR. Fiddlesticks! (Moves on.)
EVJE (following him). Do you mean to put in the paper that I have
broken off this match?
The EDITOR (stopping). Better than that--I shall spread the news in
the town; then it will get about, and all the journalists will get
a hold of it.
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 is
election time, and the other side must be made to feel that all
decent people have deserted them.
EVJE. But it is a lie, you know!
The EDITOR. What is lying, and what is truth? But your resignation
from the Stock Exchange Committee and your subsequent failure to be
elected to any public position will be no lies, I can assure you!
Public opinion is 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
constitute it.
EVJE. This is really--! Then you won't put that in the paper?
The EDITOR. The news of a broken engagement travels quickest by
foot-post--ha, ha, ha! (Coughs; then adds seriously :) But won't
you, of your own accord, break off what are really absolutely
inadmissible relations with a man who scandalises all your
acquaintances?
EVJE. Lay the blame on me, of course! I know his credentials are no
longer first class; but my daughter--ah, you would not be able to
understand that. The circumstances are quite exceptional, and--.
Look here, 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
more evasions--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
no regard to," etc., etc.--that is the "common form," isn't it, you
man of first-class credentials? Ha, ha! Good-bye. I am going home
to send the boy 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!
Do you 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 house again!
The EDITOR. But he will stay _outside_ your house, as you see!
These gentlemen of the Opposition, when they give any assurance,
always do it with a mental reservation! You can't trust the
beggars! Come round the corner. (They do so.)
EVJE. An assignation in the street in the fog! To think my daughter
would let herself be induced to do such a thing!
The EDITOR. Evil communications corrupt good manners! You are a
mere bungler in delicate matters, Evje. You made a bad choice in
that quarter!
EVJE. But he seemed to be--
The EDITOR. Yes, yes, I know! A real gentleman would have guessed
what he would develop into. He has a brother, you know! (HARALD and
GERTRUD come in slowly, arm-in-arm.)
GERTRUD. While your brother has been ill you have received many
gratifying proofs of the good feeling and goodwill that there is in
this town-haven't you?
HARALD. Yes, I have. I have found no ill-will against him, nothing
but kindness 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 I
heard a cry of yearning and disappointment from it--and that just
when he spoke most bitterly.
HARALD. Yes, it needs no very sharp sight to see that he, who
makes so many 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, take your glove off!
HARALD. Do you want me to try your ring on? I shall not be able
to get it 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 courage
to do this all this time. It was really why I wanted to walk a
little farther 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 before you to-night. It will be a decisive moment
for you. If you, when you are facing all this horrible persecution,
can be a kind boy, you will win all along the line! (Pulls at his
buttons in an embarrassed way.) So I wanted 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 it is stupid of me
(wipes her eyes hastily), but now, when it comes to the point, I
can't say what I--. But do wear it!
HARALD (kissing her). I will wear it! (Gently.) Its pure rays shall
shed a 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 door is 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
to run 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, to make an assignation in the street with--with--
GERTRUD. With her fiance.
EVJE. --with a man who has made a mock of her father and mother,
and of his 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
our son-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
your being 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
you anything; because you know yourself, dear, that Harald is
worth far more--and far more to us--than the man who went away
just now! (At this moment the printer's boy, who has come out of
the EDITOR'S house, runs past them towards the town.)
EVJE (seeing the boy, tries to get away). Go in now, Gertrud! I
have something 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
our engagement.
GERTRUD. Father--! (Moves away from him.) Is that true?
EVJE. Well-since it cannot be otherwise-it is true; that is to say,
for the moment. (Aside.) Good Lord, they can make it up right
enough when this 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 to the 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
been bought 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 a
manoeuvre--to get out of this difficulty. Why is it that I cannot
get free of it! They both of them exaggerate matters so absurdly;
first of all this crazy fellow, and then Harald with his "Good-bye,"
spoken as if the ground were giving way beneath his feet! I--I--
feel as if every one had deserted me. I will go in to my wife--
my dear, good wife; she will understand me. She is sitting up
there, full of anxiety about me. (He turns towards his house;
but, on reaching the garden gate, sees JOHN standing there.)
JOHN (touching his hat respectfully). Excuse me, Mr. Evje--
EVJE. You, John! Go away! I told you never to set foot in my
house again.
JOHN (very respectfully). But won't you allow me to stand outside
your house 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
you want? Be quick!
JOHN. I want, with all respect, to ask you, sir, why you have sent
me away.
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 from here, quietly!
JOHN. I know all about it! I was following you and the Editor all
the time, you know!
EVJE. What?
JOHN. These articles, that were to go in the paper--the printing
was at a standstill, waiting for them.
EVJE. Hush, hush, John! So you overheard that, did you? You are
too clever; 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 with messages when that nice Editor gentleman was
spending an evening with you--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
they might print those articles.
EVJE. What articles?
JOHN. The ones about you, sir. "Print away," I said--and they
printed away. By Jove, how they worked, and then off to the
post with the papers!
EVJE. You had the impudence, you--! Ah, it's not true! I saw the
printer's boy myself, running to the office to countermand the
instructions.
JOHN. I caught him up outside here and told him that a message
had been sent from Mr. Evje's house. And I gave him sixpence to
go to the theatre with; but he must have had to run for it, to be
in time, because I am sure 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--. (Moves
towards his door, but stops.) No, my wife mustn't--. Here, under
the gas-lamp! This filthy fog! I can't--. (Feels in his pocket for
his glasses, and pasts them on.) Ah, that's better! (Holds the
paper under the 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
Exchange Committee"--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 read
libellous attacks on others--and on one's self! (Goes on reading.)
Oh! Oh! What horrible, revolting rascality! What is it he says
here? I must read through it again! Oh, oh!
JOHN. And often of a morning, when you have been reading the
paper, I have heard you laughing till the bed shook under you!
EVJE. Yes, I who have so often laughed at others! (Reads.) No,
this is beyond belief! I can't read any more! This will ruin my
position in the town; 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 on reading.) Why, here is some
more! (Reads.) It begins even worse than the other! (Lowers the
paper, panting, then tries to go on reading.) No, I can't--I can't!
I must wait! Everything seems going round and round--and my heart
is beating so violently that I know I shall have one of my attacks!
What a devil it is that I have been making a friend of! What a
creature to have broken bread with!--an unprincipled scoundrel!
And the disgrace of it!--the disgrace! What will they say at the
Exchange? What will--? 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 as if 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 him
immediately! I will go and ring his bell, and go into his house and
call him a scoundrel and spit in his face--! Did I bring my stick
out with me? Where is my stick? I will send my man for it, and then
I will thrash him 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!--
How can I take my revenge? I must do him some injury--some real
injury that will seem to poison his food for him and rob him of his
rest. Scoundrels like that don't deserve sleep! It must be
something, too, that will make his family every bit as unhappy as
mine will be when they have read this--something that will make
them hide their heads for shame--something that will make them
terrified every time their door-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--for ever sowing the seeds of sin
and reaping a crop of curses! Now I understand what Harald Rejn
meant by saying that no one ought to give his help to such things!
--Heavens, hear my vow: never again will I give my help to such
things!--What am I to say to my wife--my dear, good wife, who has
no suspicion how disgraced I am! And Gertrud, our good Gertrud--ah,
at all events I can give her some pleasure at once. I cannot
conceal it from them; but I will tell them myself, so that they
shall 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
have come 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 the
house. What is the matter, dear?
EVJE. Oh, I am so unhappy!
MRS. EVJE. Good heavens, are you, dear? Come along in--or shall I
come down 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, as he goes.) This has been a bit of luck, for me; but
you shall have some more of it! (Disappears into the fog as EVJE
goes into his house. The two Passers-by, that were seen at the
beginning of the scene, are now indistinctly seen returning along
the street at the back.)
First Passer-by . Well, the land of Fogs used to be thought by the
ancients 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]
Content of ACT II [Bjornstjerne Bjornson's play/drama: The Editor]
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