Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (124 page)

BASTIAN.
Of course.

HEIRE.
Your health, my young friend! — Improvements by the thousand, I say — thinning the woods, and so forth. Years pass; and then comes Master Reynard — the present one, I mean — and repudiates the bargain!

STENSGARD.
But, my dear Mr. Heire, you could surely have snapped your fingers at him.

HEIRE.
Not so easily! Some small formalities had been overlooked, he declared. Besides, I happened then to be in temporary difficulties, which afterwards became permanent. And what can a man do nowadays without capital?

MONSEN.
You’re right there, by God! And in many ways you can’t do very much with capital either. That I know to my cost. Why, even my innocent children —

BASTIAN
[thumps the table.]
Ugh, father! if I only had certain people here!

STENSGARD.
Your children, you say?

MONSEN.
Yes; take Bastian, for example. Perhaps I haven’t given him a good education?

HEIRE.
A threefold education! First for the University; then for painting; and then for — what is it? — it’s a civil engineer he is now, isn’t it?

BASTIAN.
Yes, that I am, by the Lord!

MONSEN.
Yes, that he is; I can produce his bills and his certificates to prove it! But who gets the town business? Who has got the local road-making — especially these last two years? Foreigners, or at any rate strangers — in short, people no one knows anything about!

HEIRE.
Yes; it’s shameful the way things go on. Only last New Year, when the managership of the Savings Bank fell vacant, what must they do but give Monsen the go-by, and choose an individual that knew —
[Coughs]
— that knew how to keep his purse-strings drawn — which our princely host obviously does not. Whenever there’s a post of confidence going, it’s always the same! Never Monsen — always some one that enjoys the confidence — of the people in power. Well, well; commune suffragium, as the Roman Law puts it; that means shipwreck in the Common Council, sir. It’s a shame! Your health!

MONSEN.
Thanks! But, to change the subject — how are all your law-suits getting on?

HEIRE.
They are still pending; I can say no more for the present. What endless annoyance they do give me! Next week I shall have to summon the whole Town Council before the Arbitration Commission.

BASTIAN.
Is it true that you once summoned yourself before the Arbitration Commission?

HEIRE.
Myself? Yes; but I didn’t put in an appearance.

MONSEN.
Ha, ha! You didn’t, eh?

HEIRE.
I had a sufficient excuse: had to cross the river, and it was unfortunately the very year of Bastian’s bridgeplump! down it went, you know —

BASTIAN.
Why, confound it all — !

HEIRE.
Take it coolly, young man! You are not the first that has bent the bow till it breaks. Everything runs in families, you know — I say no more.

MONSEN.
Ho ho ho! You say no more, eh? Well, drink, then, and say no more!
[To STENSGARD.]
You see, Mr. Heire’s tongue is licensed to wag as it pleases.

HEIRE.
Yes, freedom of speech is the only civic right I really value.

STENSGARD.
What a pity the law should restrict it.

HEIRE.
Hee-hee! Our legal friend’s mouth is watering for a nice action for slander, eh? Make your mind easy, my dear sir! I’m an old hand, let me tell you!

STENSGARD.
Especially at slander?

HEIRE.
Your pardon, young man! That outburst of indignation does honour to your heart. I beg you to forget an old man’s untimely frankness about your absent friends.

STENSGARD.
Absent friends?

HEIRE.
I have nothing to say against the son, of course — nor against the daughter. And if I happened to cast a passing slur upon the Chamberlain’s character —

STENSGARD.
The Chamberlain’s? Is it the Chamberlain’s family you call my friends?

HEIRE.
Well, you don’t pay visits to your enemies, I presume?

BASTIAN.
Visits?

MONSEN.
What?

HEIRE.
Ow, ow, ow! Here am I letting cats out of bags!

MONSEN.
Have you been paying visits at the Chamberlain’s?

STENSGARD.
Nonsense! A misunderstanding —

HEIRE.
A most unhappy slip on my part. But how was I to know it was a secret?
[To MONSEN.]
Besides, you mustn’t take my expressions too literally. When I say a visit, I mean only a sort of formal call; a frock-coat and yellow gloves affair —

STENSGARD.
I tell you I haven’t exchanged a single word with any of that family!

HEIRE.
Is it possible? Were you not received the second time either? I know they were “not at home” the first time.

STENSGARD
[to MONSEN.]
I had a letter to deliver from a friend in Christiania — that was all.

HEIRE
[rising.]
I’ll be hanged if it isn’t positively revolting! Here is a young man at the outset of his career; full of simple-minded confidence, he seeks out the experienced man-of-the-world and knocks at his door; turns to him, who has brought his ship to port, to beg for — I say no more! The man-of-the-world shuts the door in his face; is not at home; never is at home when it’s his duty to be — I say no more!
[With indignation.]
Was there ever such shameful insolence!

STENSGARD.
Oh, never mind that stupid business.

HEIRE.
Not at home! He, who goes about professing that he is always at home to reputable people!

STENSGARD.
Does he say that?

HEIRE.
A mere empty phrase. He’s not at home to Mr. Monsen either. But I can’t think what has made him hate you so much. Yes, hate you, I say; for what do you think I heard yesterday?

STENSGARD.
I don’t want to know what you heard yesterday.

HEIRE.
Then I say no more. Besides, the expressions didn’t surprise me — coming from the Chamberlain, I mean. Only I can’t understand why he should have added “demagogue.”

STENSGARD.
Demagogue!

HEIRE.
Well, since you insist upon it, I must confess that the Chamberlain called you an adventurer and demagogue.

STENSGARD
[jumps up.]
What!

HEIRE.
Adventurer and demagogue — or demagogue and adventurer; I won’t answer for the order.

STENSGARD.
And you heard that?

HEIRE.
I? If I had been present, Mr. Stensgard, you may be sure I should have stood up for you as you deserve.

MONSEN.
There, you see what comes of —

STENSGARD.
How dare the old scoundrel — ?

HEIRE.
Come, come, come! Keep your temper. Very likely it was a mere figure of speech — a harmless little joke, I have no doubt. You can demand an explanation tomorrow; for I suppose you are going to the great dinner- party, eh?

STENSGARD.
I am not going to any dinner-party.

HEIRE.
Two calls and no invitation — !

STENSGARD.
Demagogue and adventurer! What can he be thinking of?

MONSEN.
Look there! Talk of the devil — ! Come, Bastian.
[Goes off with BASTIAN.]

STENSGARD.
What did he mean by it, Mr. Heire?

HEIRE.
Haven’t the ghost of an idea. — It pains you? Your hand, young man! Pardon me if my frankness has wounded you. Believe me, you have yet many bitter lessons to learn in this life. You are young; you are confiding; you are trustful. It is beautiful; it is even touching; but — but — trustfulness is silver, experience is gold: that’s a proverb of my own invention, sir! God bless you!
[Goes. CHAMBERLAIN BRATSBERG, his daughter THORA, and DOCTOR FIELDBO enter from the left.]

LUNDESTAD
[strikes the bell on the rostrum.]
Silence for Mr. Ringdal’s speech!

STENSGARD
[shouts.]
Mr. Lundestad, I demand to be heard.

LUNDESTAD.
Afterwards.

STENSGARD.
No, now! at once!

LUNDESTAD.
You can’t speak just now. Silence for Mr. Ringdal!

RINGDAL
[on the rostrum.]
Ladies and gentlemen! We have at this moment the honour of seeing in our midst the man with the warm heart and the open hand — the man we have an looked up to for many a year, as to a father — the man who is always ready to help us, both in word and deed — the man whose door is never closed to any reputable citizen — the man who — who — ladies and gentlemen, our honoured guest is no lover of long speeches; so, without more words, I call for three cheers for Chamberlain Bratsberg and his family! Long life to them! Hurrah!

THE CROWD.
Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!
[Great enthusiasm; people press around the CHAMBERLAIN, who thanks them and shakes hands with those nearest him.]

STENSGARD.
Now may I speak?

LUNDESTAD.
By all means. The platform is at your service.

STENSGARD
[jumps upon the table.]
I shall choose my own platform!

THE YOUNG MEN
[crowding around him.]
Hurrah!

THE CHAMBERLAIN
[to the DOCTOR.]
Who is this obstreperous personage?

FIELDBO.
Mr. Stensgard.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Oh, it’s he, is it?

STENSGARD.
Listen to me, my glad-hearted brothers and sisters! Hear me, all you who have in your souls — though it may not reach your lips — the exultant song of the day, the day of our freedom! I am a stranger among you —

ASLAKSEN.
No!

STENSGARD.
Thanks for that “No!” I take it as the utterance of a longing, an aspiration. A stranger I am, however; but this I swear, that I come among you with a great and open-hearted sympathy for your sorrows and your joys, your victories and defeats. If it lay in my power —

ASLAKSEN.
It does, it does!

LUNDESTAD.
No interruptions! You have no right to speak.

STENSGARD.
You still less! I abolish the Committee! Freedom on the day of freedom, boys!

THE YOUNG MEN.
Hurrah for freedom!

STENSGARD.
They deny you the right of speech! You hear it — they want to gag you! Away with this tyranny! I won’t stand here declaiming to a flock of dumb animals. I will talk; but you shall talk, too. We will talk to each other, from the heart!

THE CROWD
[with growing enthusiasm.]
Hurrah!

STENSGARD.
We will have no more of these barren, white- chokered festivities! A golden harvest of deeds shall hereafter shoot up from each Seventeenth of May. May! Is it not the season of bud and blossom, the blushing maiden- month of the year? On the first of June I shall have been just two months among you; and in that time what greatness and littleness, what beauty and deformity, have I not seen?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
What on earth is he talking about, Doctor?

FIELDBO.
Aslaksen says it’s the local situation.

STENSGARD.
I have seen great and brilliant possibilities among the masses; but I have seen, too, a spirit of corruption brooding over the germs of promise and bringing them to nought. I have seen ardent and trustful youth rush yearning forth — and I have seen the door shut in its face.

THORA.
Oh, Heaven!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
What does he mean by that?

STENSGARD.
Yes, my brothers and sisters in rejoicing! There hovers in the air an Influence, a Spectre from the dead and rotten past, which spreads darkness and oppression where there should be nothing but buoyancy and light. We must lay that Spectre; down with it!

THE CROWD.
Hurrah! Hurrah for the Seventeenth of May!

THORA.
Come away, father — !

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
What the deuce does he mean by a spectre? Who is he talking about, Doctor?