Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (179 page)

Dina: Ah, now you are only making fun of me; you said that to Olaf too. But what I wanted to know is if people are so very — so very moral over there?

Johan: Moral?

Dina: Yes; I mean are they as — as proper and as well-behaved as they are here?

Johan: Well, at all events they are not so bad as people here make out. You need not be afraid on that score.

Dina: You don’t understand me. What I want to hear is just that they are not so proper and so moral.

Johan: Not? What would you wish them to be, then?

Dina: I would wish them to be natural.

Johan: Well, I believe that is just what they are.

Dina: Because in that case I should get on if I went there.

Johan: You would, for certain! — and that is why you must come back with us.

Dina: No, I don’t want to go with you; I must go alone. Oh, I would make something of my life; I would get on —

Bernick
(speaking to LONA and his wife at the foot of the garden steps)
: Wait a moment — I will fetch it, Betty dear; you might so easily catch cold.
(Comes into the room and looks for his wife’s shawl.)

Mrs. Bernick
(from outside)
: You must come out too, Johan; we are going down to the grotto.

Bernick: No, I want Johan to stay here. Look here, Dina; you take my wife’s shawl and go with them. Johan is going to stay here with me, Betty dear. I want to hear how he is getting on over there.

Mrs. Bernick: Very well — then you will follow us; you know where you will find us. (MRS. BERNICK, LONA and DINA go out through the garden, to the left. BERNICK looks after them for a moment, then goes to the farther door on the left and locks it, after which he goes up to JOHAN, grasps both his hands, and shakes them warmly.)

Bernick: Johan, now that we are alone, you must let me thank you.

Johan: Oh, nonsense!

Bernick: My home and all the happiness that it means to me — my position here as a citizen — all these I owe to you.

Johan: Well, I am glad of it, Karsten; some good came of that mad story after all, then.

Bernick
(grasping his hands again)
: But still you must let me thank you! Not one in ten thousand would have done what you did for me.

Johan: Rubbish! Weren’t we, both of us, young and thoughtless? One of us had to take the blame, you know.

Bernick: But surely the guilty one was the proper one to do that?

Johan: Stop! At the moment the innocent one happened to be the proper one to do it. Remember, I had no ties — I was an orphan; it was a lucky chance to get free from the drudgery of the office. You, on the other hand, had your old mother still alive; and, besides that, you had just become secretly engaged to Betty, who was devoted to you. What would have happened between you and her if it had come to her ears?

Bernick: That is true enough, but still —

Johan: And wasn’t it just for Betty’s sake that you broke off your acquaintance with Mrs. Dorf? Why, it was merely in order to put an end to the whole thing that you were up there with her that evening.

Bernick: Yes, that unfortunate evening when that drunken creature came home! Yes, Johan, it was for Betty’s sake; but, all the same, it was splendid of you to let all the appearances go against you, and to go away.

Johan: Put your scruples to rest, my dear Karsten. We agreed that it should be so; you had to be saved, and you were my friend. I can tell you, I was uncommonly proud of that friendship. Here was I, drudging away like a miserable stick-in-the-mud, when you came back from your grand tour abroad, a great swell who had been to London and to Paris; and you chose me for your chum, although I was four years younger than you — it is true it was because you were courting Betty, I understand that now — but I was proud of it! Who would not have been? Who would not willingly have sacrificed himself for you? — especially as it only meant a month’s talk in the town, and enabled me to get away into the wide world.

Bernick: Ah, my dear Johan, I must be candid and tell you that the story is not so completely forgotten yet.

Johan: Isn’t it? Well, what does that matter to me, once I am back over there on my farm again?

Bernick: Then you mean to go back?

Johan: Of course.

Bernick: But not immediately, I hope?

Johan: As soon as possible. It was only to humour Lona that I came over with her, you know.

Bernick: Really? How so?

Johan: Well, you see, Lona is no longer young, and lately she began to be obsessed with home-sickness; but she never would admit it.
(Smiles.)
How could she venture to risk leaving such a flighty fellow as me alone, who before I was nineteen had been mixed up in...

Bernick: Well, what then?

Johan: Well, Karsten, now I am coming to a confession that I am ashamed to make.

Bernick: You surely haven’t confided the truth to her?

Johan: Yes. It was wrong of me, but I could not do otherwise. You can have no conception what Lona has been to me. You never could put up with her; but she has been like a mother to me. The first year we were out there, when things went so badly with us, you have no idea how she worked! And when I was ill for a long time, and could earn nothing and could not prevent her, she took to singing ballads in taverns, and gave lectures that people laughed at; and then she wrote a book that she has both laughed and cried over since then — all to keep the life in me. Could I look on when in the winter she, who had toiled and drudged for me, began to pine away? No, Karsten, I couldn’t. And so I said, “You go home for a trip, Lona; don’t be afraid for me, I am not so flighty as you think.” And so — the end of it was that she had to know.

Bernick: And how did she take it?

Johan: Well, she thought, as was true, that as I knew I was innocent nothing need prevent me from taking a trip over here with her. But make your mind easy; Lona will let nothing out, and I shall keep my mouth shut as I did before.

Bernick: Yes, yes I rely on that.

Johan: Here is my hand on it. And now we will say no more about that old story; luckily it is the only mad prank either of us has been guilty of, I am sure. I want thoroughly to enjoy the few days I shall stay here. You cannot think what a delightful walk we had this morning. Who would have believed that that little imp, who used to run about here and play angels’ parts on the stage — ! But tell me, my dear fellow, what became of her parents afterwards?

Bernick: Oh, my boy, I can tell you no more than I wrote to you immediately after you went away. I suppose you got my two letters?

Johan: Yes, yes, I have them both. So that drunken fellow deserted her?

Bernick: And drank himself to death afterwards.

Johan: And she died soon afterwards, too?

Bernick: She was proud; she betrayed nothing, and would accept nothing.

Johan: Well, at all events you did the right thing by taking Dina into your house.

Bernick: I suppose so. As a matter of fact it was Martha that brought that about.

Johan: So it was Martha? By the way, where is she today?

Bernick: She? Oh, when she hasn’t her school to look after, she has her sick people to see to.

Johan: So it was Martha who interested herself in her.

Bernick: Yes, you know Martha has always had a certain liking for teaching; so she took a post in the boarding-school. It was very ridiculous of her.

Johan: I thought she looked very worn yesterday; I should be afraid her health was not good enough for it.

Bernick: Oh, as far as her health goes, it is all right enough. But it is unpleasant for me; it looks as though I, her brother, were not willing to support her.

Johan: Support her? I thought she had means enough of her own.

Bernick: Not a penny. Surely you remember how badly off our mother was when you went away? She carried things on for a time with my assistance, but naturally I could not put up with that state of affairs permanently. I made her take me into the firm, but even then things did not go well. So I had to take over the whole business myself, and when we made up our balance-sheet, it became evident that there was practically nothing left as my mother’s share. And when mother died soon afterwards, of course Martha was left penniless.

Johan: Poor Martha!

Bernick: Poor! Why? You surely do not suppose I let her want for anything? No, I venture to say I am a good brother. Of course she has a home here with us; her salary as a teacher is more than enough for her to dress on; what more could she want?

Johan: Hm — that is not our idea of things in America.

Bernick: No, I dare say not — in such a revolutionary state of society as you find there. But in our small circle — in which, thank God, depravity has not gained a footing, up to now at all events — women are content to occupy a seemly, as well as modest, position. Moreover, it is Martha’s own fault; I mean, she might have been provided for long ago, if she had wished.

Johan: You mean she might have married?

Bernick: Yes, and married very well, too. She has had several good offers — curiously enough, when you think that she is a poor girl, no longer young, and, besides, quite an insignificant person.

Johan: Insignificant?

Bernick: Oh, I am not blaming her for that. I most certainly would not wish her otherwise. I can tell you it is always a good thing to have a steady-going person like that in a big house like this — some one you can rely on in any contingency.

Johan: Yes, but what does she — ?

Bernick: She? How? Oh well, of course she has plenty to interest herself in; she has Betty and Olaf and me. People should not think first of themselves — women least of all. We have all got some community, great or small, to work for. That is my principle, at all events.
(Points to KRAP, who has come in from the right.)
Ah, here is an example of it, ready to hand. Do you suppose that it is my own affairs that are absorbing me just now? By no means.
(Eagerly to KRAP.)
Well?

Krap
(in an undertone, showing him a bundle of papers)
: Here are all the sale contracts, completed.

Bernick: Capital! Splendid! — Well, Johan, you must really excuse me for the present.
(In a low voice, grasping his hand.)
Thanks, Johan, thanks! And rest assured that anything I can do for you — Well, of course you understand. Come along, Krap.
(They go into BERNICK’S room.)

Johan
(looking after them for a moment)
: Hm! —
(Turns to go down to the garden. At the same moment MARTHA comes in from the right, with a little basket over her arm.)
Martha!

Martha: Ah, Johan — is it you?

Johan: Out so early?

Martha: Yes. Wait a moment; the others are just coming.
(Moves towards the door on the left.)

Johan: Martha, are you always in such a hurry?

Martha: I?

Johan: Yesterday you seemed to avoid me, so that I never managed to have a word with you — we two old playfellows.

Martha: Ah, Johan; that is many, many years ago.

Johan: Good Lord — why, it is only fifteen years ago, no more and no less. Do you think I have changed so much?

Martha: You? Oh yes, you have changed too, although —

Johan: What do you mean?

Martha: Oh, nothing.

Johan: You do not seem to be very glad to see me again.

Martha: I have waited so long, Johan — too long.

Johan: Waited? For me to come?

Martha: Yes.

Johan. And why did you think I would come?

Martha: To atone for the wrong you had done.