Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (126 page)

STENSGARD.
Oh, whom do you call the better sort? A few stuck-up officials! I know all about it. As for me, I have been received at Stonelee with so much cordiality and appreciation —

FIELDBO.
Appreciation? Yes, unfortunately — there we are at the root of the matter.

STENSGARD.
Not at all! I can see with unprejudiced eyes. Mr. Monsen has abilities, he has reading, he has a keen sense for public affairs.

FIELDBO.
Abilities? Oh, yes, in a way. Reading, too: he takes in the papers, and has read your speeches and articles. And his sense for public affairs he has, of course, proved by applauding the said articles and speeches.

STENSGARD.
Now, Fieldbo, up come the dregs of your nature again. Can you never shake off that polluting habit of thought? Why must you always assume mean or ridiculous motives for everything? Oh, you are not serious! Now you look good and true again. I’ll tell you the real root of the matter. Do you know Ragna?

FIELDBO.
Ragna Monsen? Oh, after a fashion — at second hand.

STENSGARD.
Yes, I know she is sometimes at the Chamberlain’s.

FIELDBO.
In a quiet way, yes. She and Miss Bratsberg are old schoolfellows.

STENSGARD.
And what do you think of her?

FIELDBO.
Why, from all I have heard she seems to be a very good girl.

STENSGARD.
Oh, you should see her in her home! She thinks of nothing but her two little sisters. And how devotedly she must have nursed her mother! You know the mother was out of her mind for some years before she died.

FIELDBO.
Yes, I was their doctor at one time. But surely, my dear fellow, you don’t mean that —

STENSGARD.
Yes, Fieldbo, I love her truly; to you I can confess it. Oh, I know what you are surprised at. You think it strange that so soon after — of course you know that I was engaged to Christiania?

FIELDBO.
Yes, so I was told.

STENSGARD.
The whole thing was a disappointment. I had to break it off — it was best for all parties. Oh, how I suffered in that affair! The torture, the sense of oppression I endured — ! Now, thank heaven, I am out of it all. That was my reason for leaving town.

FIELDBO.
And with regard to Ragna Monsen, are you quite sure of yourself?

STENSGARD.
Yes, I am, indeed. There’s no mistake possible in this case.

FIELDBO.
Well, then, in heaven’s name, go in and win! It means your life’s happiness! Oh, there’s so much I could say to you —

STENSGARD.
Really? Has she said anything? Has she confided in Miss Bratsberg?

FIELDBO.
No; that’s not what I mean. But how can you, in the midst of your happiness, go and fuddle yourself in these political orgies? How can town tattle take any hold upon a mind that is —

STENSGARD.
Why not? Man is a complex machine — I am, at any rate. Besides, my way to her lies through these very party turmoils.

FIELDBO.
A terribly prosaic way.

STENSGARD.
Fieldbo, I am ambitious; you know I am. I must make my way in the world. When I remember that I’m thirty, and am still on the first round of the ladder, I feel my conscience gnawing at me.

FIELDBO.
Not with its wisdom teeth.

STENSGARD.
It’s of no use talking to you. You have never felt the spur of ambition. You have dawdled and drifted all your days — first at college, then abroad, now here.

FIELDBO.
Perhaps; but at least it has been delightful. And no reaction follows, like what you feel when you get down from the table after —

STENSGARD.
Stop that! I can bear anything but that. You are doing a bad action — you are damping my ardour.

FIELDBO.
Oh, come! If your ardour is so easily damped —

STENSGARD.
Stop, I say! What right have you to break in upon my happiness? Do you think I am not sincere?

FIELDBO.
Yes, I am sure you are.

STENSGARD.
Well, then, why go and make me feel empty, and disgusted, and suspicious of myself?
[Shouts and cheers from the tent.]
There — listen! They are drinking my health. An idea that can take such hold upon people — by God, it must have truth in it!
[THORA BRATSBERG, RAGNA MONSEN, and MR. HELLE enter from the left and cross, half-way back.

HELLE.
Look, Miss Bratsberg; there is Mr. Stensgard.

THORA.
Then I won’t go any further. Good-night, Ragna dear.

HELLE
and Miss Monsen. Good-night, good-night.
[They go out to the right.]

THORA
[advancing.]
I am Miss Bratsberg. I have a letter for you, from my father.

STENSGARD.
For me?

THORA.
Yes; here it is.
[Going.]

FIELDBO.
May I not see you home?

THORA.
No, thank you. I can go alone. Good-night.
[Goes out to the left.]

STENSGARD
[reading the letter by a Chinese lantern.]
What is this!

FIELDBO.
Well — what has the Chamberlain to say to you?

STENSGARD
[bursts into loud laughter.]
I must say I didn’t expect this!

FIELDBO.
Tell me — ?

STENSGARD.
Chamberlain Bratsberg is a pitiful creature.

FIELDBO.
You dare to —

STENSGARD.
Pitiful! Pitiful. Tell any one you please that I said so. Or rather, say nothing about it —
[Puts the letter in his pocket.]
Don’t mention this to any one!
[The COMPANY come out from the tent.]

MONSEN.
Mr. President! Where is Mr. Stensgard?

THE CROWD.
There be is! Hurrah!

LUNDESTAD.
Mr. President has forgotten his hat.
[Hands it to him.]

ASLAKSEN.
Here; have some punch! Here’s a whole bowlful!

STENSGARD.
Thanks, no more.

MONSEN.
And the members of the League will recollect that we meet to-morrow at Stonelee —

STENSGARD.
To-morrow? It wasn’t to-morrow, was it — ?

MONSEN.
Yes, certainly; to draw up the manifesto

STENSGARD.
No, I really can’t to-morrow — I shall see about it the day after to-morrow, or the day after that. Well, good-night, gentlemen; hearty thanks all round, and hurrah for the future!

THE CROWD.
Hurrah! Let’s take him home in triumph!

STENSGARD.
Thanks, thanks! But you really mustn’t —

ASLAKSEN.
We’ll all go with you.

STENSGARD.
Very well, come along. Good-night, Fieldbo; you’re not coming with us?

FIELDBO.
No; but let me tell you, what you said about Chamberlain Bratsberg —

STENSGARD.
Hush, hush! It was an exaggeration — I withdraw it! Well, my friends, if you’re coming, come; I’ll take the lead.

MONSEN.
Your arm, Stensgard!

BASTIAN.
A song! Strike up! Something thoroughly patriotic!

THE CROWD.
A song! A song! Music!
[A popular air is played and sung. The procession marches out by the back to the right.]

FIELDBO
[to LUNDESTAD, who remains behind.]
A gallant procession.

LUNDESTAD.
Yes — and with a gallant leader.

FIELDBO.
And where are you going, Mr. Lundestad?

LUNDESTAD.
I? I’m going home to bed.
[He nods and goes off. DOCTOR FIELDBO remains behind alone.]

ACT SECOND
.

[A garden-room at the Chamberlain’s, elegantly furnished with a piano, flowers, and rare plants. Entrance door at the back. On the left, a door leading to the diningroom; on the right, several glass doors lead out to the garden.]
[ASLAKSEN stands at the entrance door. A MAID-SERVANT is carrying some dishes of fruit into the dining-room.]

THE MAID.
Yes, but I tell you they’re still at table; you must call again.

ASLAKSEN.
I’d rather wait, if I may.

THE MAID.
Oh, yes, if you like. You can sit there for the present.
[She goes into the dining-room. ASLAKSEN takes a seat near the door. Pause. DR. FIELDBO enters from the back.]

FIELDBO.
Ah, good evening, Aslaksen: are you here?

THE MAID
[returning.]
You’re late this evening, sir.

FIELDBO.
I was called to see a patient.

THE MAID.
The Chamberlain and Miss Bratsberg have both been inquiring about you.

FIELDBO.
Indeed?

THE MAID.
Yes. Won’t you go in at once, sir; or shall I say that — ?

FIELDBO.
No, no; never mind. I can have a snack afterwards; I shall wait here in the meantime.

THE MAID.
Dinner will soon be over.
[She goes out by the back.]

ASLAKSEN
[after a pause.]
How can you resist such a dinner, Doctor — with dessert, and fine wines, and all sorts of good things?

FIELDBO.
Why, man, it seems to me we get too many good things hereabouts, rather than too few.

ASLAKSEN.
There I can’t agree with you.

FIELDBO.
H’m. I suppose you are waiting for some one.

ASLAKSEN.
Yes, I am.

FIELDBO.
And are things going tolerably at home? Your wife — ?

ASLAKSEN.
In bed, as usual; coughing and wasting away.

FIELDBO.
And your second child?

ASLAKSEN.
Oh, he’s a cripple for the rest of his days; you know that. That’s our luck, you see; what the devil’s the use of talking about it?

FIELDBO.
Let me look at you, Aslaksen!

ASLAKSEN.
Well; what do you want to see?

FIELDBO.
You’ve been drinking to-day.

ASLAKSEN.
Yes, and yesterday, too.

FIELDBO.
Well, yesterday there was some excuse for it; but to-day —

ASLAKSEN.
What about your friends in there, then? Aren’t they drinking, too?

FIELDBO.
Yes, my dear Aslaksen; that’s a fair retort; but circumstances differ so in this world.

ASLAKSEN.
I didn’t choose my circumstances.

FIELDBO.
No; God chose them for you.

ASLAKSEN.
No, he didn’t — men chose them. Daniel Heire chose, when he took me from the printing-house and sent me to college. And Chamberlain Bratsberg chose, when he ruined Daniel Heire and sent me back to the printing- house.

FIELDBO.
Now you know that’s not true. The Chamberlain did not ruin Daniel Heire; Daniel Heire ruined himself.

ASLAKSEN.
Perhaps! But how dared Daniel Heire ruin himself, in the face of his responsibilities towards me? God’s partly to blame, too, of course. Why should he give me talent and ability? Well, of course, I could have turned them to account as a respectable handicraftsman; but then comes that tattling old fool —

FIELDBO.
It’s base of you to say that. Daniel Heire acted with the best intentions.

ASLAKSEN.
What good do his “best intentions” do me? You hear them in there, clinking glasses and drinking healths? Well, I, too, have sat at that table in my day, dressed in purple and fine linen, like the best of them — ! That was just the thing for me, that was — for me, that has read so much and had thirsted so long to have my share in all the good things of life. Well, well; how long was Jeppe in Paradise? Smash, crash! down you go — and my fine fortunes fell to pi, as we printers say.

FIELDBO.
But, after all, you were not so badly off; you had your trade to fall back upon.

ASLAKSEN.
That’s easily said. After getting out of your class you can’t get into it again. They took the ground from under my feet, and shoved me out on the slippery ice — and then they abuse me because I stumble.

FIELDBO.
Well, far be it from me to judge you harshly —

ASLAKSEN.
No; you have no right to. — What a queer jumble it is! Daniel Heire, and Providence, and the Chamberlain, and Destiny, and Circumstance — and I myself in the middle of it! I’ve often thought of unravelling it all and writing a book about it; but it’s so cursedly entangled that —
[Glances towards the door on the left.]
Ah! They’re rising from table.
[The party, ladies and gentlemen, pass from the dining-room into the garden, in lively conversation. Among the guests is STENSGARD, with THORA on his left arm and SELMA on his right. FIELDBO and ASLAKSEN stand beside the door at the back.]

STENSGARD.
I don’t know my way here yet; you must tell me where I am to take you, ladies.

SELMA.
Out into the air; you must see the garden.

STENSGARD.
Oh, that will be delightful. They go out by the foremost glass door on the right.

FIELDBO.
Why, by all that’s wonderful, there’s Stensgard!

ASLAKSEN.
It’s him I want to speak to. I’ve had a fine chase after him; fortunately I met Daniel Heire — DANIEL HEIRE and ERIK BRATSBERG enter from the dining-room.

HEIRE.
Hee-hee! Excellent sherry, upon my word. I’ve tasted nothing like it since I was in London.

ERIK.
Yes, it’s good, isn’t it? It puts life into you.

HEIRE.
Well, well — it’s a real pleasure to see one’s money so well spent.

ERIK.
How so?
[Laughing.]
Oh, yes; I see, I see.
[They go into the garden.]

FIELDBO.
You want to speak to Stensgard, you say?

ASLAKSEN.
Yes.

FIELDBO.
On business?

ASLAKSEN.
Of course; the report of the fete —

FIELDBO.
Well, then, you must wait out there in the meantime.

ASLAKSEN.
In the passage?

FIELDBO.
In the anteroom. This is scarcely the time or place — but the moment I see Stensgard alone, I’ll tell him —

ASLAKSEN.
Very well; I’ll bide my time.
[Goes out by the back. CHAMBERLAIN BRATSBERG, LUNDESTAD, RINGDAL, and one or two other gentlemen come out of the dining-room.]

THE CHAMBERLAIN
[conversing with LUNDESTAD.]
Violent, you say? Well, perhaps the form wasn’t all that could be desired; but there were real gems in the speech, I can assure you.

LUNDESTAD.
Well, if you are satisfied, Chamberlain, I have no right to complain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Why should you? Ah, here’s the Doctor! Starving, I’ll be bound.

FIELDBO.
It doesn’t matter, Chamberlain. The servants will attend to me. I feel myself almost at home here, you know.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Oh, you do, do you? I wouldn’t be in too great a hurry.

FIELDBO.
What? Am I taking too great a liberty? You yourself permitted me to —

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
What I permitted, I permitted. Well, well, make yourself at home, and forage for something to eat.
[Slaps him lightly on the shoulder and turns to LUNDESTAD.]
Now, here’s one you may call an adventurer and — and the other thing I can’t remember.

FIELDBO.
Why, Chamberlain — !

LUNDESTAD.
No, I assure you —

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
No arguments after dinner; it’s bad for the digestion. They’ll serve the coffee outside presently.
[Goes with the guests into the garden.]

LUNDESTAD
[to FIELDBO.]
Did you ever see the Chamberlain so strange as he is to-day?

FIELDBO.
I noticed it yesterday evening.

LUNDESTAD.
He will have it that I called Mr. Stensgard an adventurer and something else of that sort.

FIELDBO.
Oh, well, Mr. Lundestad, what if you did? Excuse me; I must go and talk to the ladies.
[Goes out to the right.]

LUNDESTAD
[to RINGDAL, who is arranging a card table.]
How do you account for Mr. Stensgard’s appearance here to-day?

RINGDAL
Yes, how? He wasn’t on the original list.

LUNDESTAD.
An afterthought, then? After his attack on the Chamberlain yesterday — ?

RINGDAL
Yes, can you understand it?

LUNDESTAD.
Understand it? Oh, yes, I suppose I can.

RINGDAL
[more softly.]
You think the Chamberlain is afraid of him?

LUNDESTAD.
I think he is prudent — that’s what I think.
[They go up to the back conversing, and so out into the garden. At the same time SELMA and STENSGARD enter by the foremost door on the right.]

SELMA.
Yes, just look — over the tops of the trees you can see the church tower and all the upper part of the town.

STENSGARD.
So you can; I shouldn’t have thought so.

SELMA.
Don’t you think it’s a beautiful view?

STENSGARD.
Everything is beautiful here: the garden, and the view, and the sunshine, and the people! Great heaven, how beautiful it all is! And you live here all the summer?

SELMA.
No, not my husband and I; we come and go. We have a big, showy house in town, much finer than this; you’ll see it soon.

STENSGARD.
Perhaps your family live in town?

SELMA.
My family? Who are my family?

STENSGARD.
Oh, I didn’t know —

SELMA.
We fairy princesses have no family.

STENSGARD.
Fairy princesses?

SELMA.
At most we have a stepmother —

STENSGARD.
A witch, yes! So you are a princess!

SELMA.
Princess of all the sunken palaces, whence you hear the soft music on midsummer nights. Doctor Fieldbo thinks it must be pleasant to be a princess; but I must tell you —

ERIK
Bratsberg
[coming from the garden]
. Ah, at last I find the little lady!

SELMA.
The little lady is telling Mr. Stensgard the story of her life.

ERIK.
Oh, indeed. And what part does the husband play in the little lady’s story?

SELMA.
The Prince, of course.
[To STENSGARD.]
You know the prince always comes and breaks the spell, and then all ends happily, and every one calls and congratulates, and the fairy-tale is over.

STENSGARD.
Oh, it’s too short.

SELMA.
Perhaps — in a way.

ERIK
[putting his arm round her waist.]
But a new fairy-tale grows out of the old one, and in it the Princess becomes a Queen!

SELMA.
On the same conditions as real Princesses?

ERIK.
What condition?

SELMA.
They must go into exile — to a foreign kingdom.

ERIK.
A cigar, Mr. Stensgard?

STENSGARD.
Thank you, not just now. DOCTOR FIELDBO and THORA enter from the garden.

SELMA
[Going toward them.]
Is that you, Thora dear? I hope you’re not ill?

THORA.
I? No.

SELMA.
Oh, but I’m sure you must be; you seem to be always consulting the doctor of late.

THORA.
No, I assure you —