Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (133 page)

FIELDBO.
To Stensgard?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Are you sure of that?

HEIRE.
Quite certain. “You can make what use you please of it,” he said. But I don’t understand —

LUNDESTAD.
I want to speak to you, Mr. Heire — and you too, Ringdal.
[The three converse in a whisper at the back.]

FIELDBO.
Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Well?

FIELDBO.
Your son’s bill is genuine, of course — ?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
One would suppose so.

FIELDBO.
Of course. But now if the forged bill were to turn up — ?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
I will lay no information.

FIELDBO.
Naturally not; — but you must do more.

THE CHAMBERLAIN
[rising.]
I can do no more.

FIELDBO.
Yes, for heaven’s sake, you can and must. You must save the poor fellow —

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
In what way?

FIELDBO.
Quite simply: by acknowledging the signature.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
Then you think, Doctor, that we stick at nothing in our family?

FIELDBO.
I am trying to think for the best, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
And do you believe for a moment that I can tell a lie? — that I can play into the hands of forgers?

FIELDBO.
And do you realise what will be the consequences if you do not?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.
The offender must settle that with the law.
[He goes out to the left.]

ACT FOURTH
.

[A public room in MADAM RUNDHOLMEN’S hotel. Entrance door in the back; a smaller door on either side. A window on the right; before it, a table with writing materials; further back, in the middle of the room, another table.]

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN
[within, on the left, heard talking loudly.]
Oh, let them go about their business! Tell them they’ve come here to vote and not to drink. If they won’t wait, they can do the other thing.

STENSGARD
[enters by the back.]
Good-morning! H’m, h’m, Madam Rundholmen!
[Goes to the door on the left and knocks.]
Good-morning, Madam Rundholmen!

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN
[within.]
Oh! Who’s there?

STENSGARD.
It is I — Stensgard. May I come in?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
No, indeed, you mustn’t! No! I’m not dress’d.

STENSGARD.
What? Are you so late to-day?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Oh, I can tell you I’ve been up since all hours; but one must look a little decent, you know.
[Peeps out, with a kerchief over her head.]
Well, what is it? No, you really mustn’t look at me, Mr. Stensgard. — Oh, there’s some one else!
[Disappears, slamming the door to.]

ASLAKSEN
[enters from the back with a bundle of papers.]
Good-morning, Mr. Stensgard.

STENSGARD.
Well, is it in?

ASLAKSEN.
Yes, here it is. Look—”The Independence Day Celebrations — From our Special Correspondent.” Here’s the founding of the League on the other side, and your speech up here. I’ve leaded all the abuse.

STENSGARD.
It seems to me it’s all leaded.

ASLAKSEN.
Pretty nearly.

STENSGARD.
And the extra number was of course distributed yesterday?

ASLAKSEN.
Of course; all over the district, both to subscribers and others. Would you like to see it?
[Hands him a copy.]

STENSGARD
[running his eye over the paper.]
“Our respected member, Mr. Lundestad, proposes to resign . . . long and faithful service . . . in the words of the poet: ‘Rest, patriot, it is thy due!’” H’m! “The association founded on Independence Day!: the League of Youth...... Mr. Stensgard, the guiding intelligence of the League..... timely reforms, credit on easier terms.” Ah, that’s very good. Has the polling begun?

ASLAKSEN.
It’s in full swing. The whole League is on the spot — both voters and others.

STENSGARD.
Oh, deuce take the others — between ourselves, of course. Well, you go down and talk to the waverers.

ASLAKSEN.
All right.

STENSGARD.
You can tell them that I am pretty much at one with Lundestad —

ASLAKSEN.
Trust to me; I know the local situation.

STENSGARD.
One thing more; just to oblige me, Aslaksen, don’t drink to-day.

ASLAKSEN.
Oh, what do you mean — !

STENSGARD.
We’ll have a jolly evening when it’s all over; but remember what you, as well as I, have at stake; your paper — Come, now, my good fellow, let me see that you can —

ASLAKSEN.
There, that’s enough now; I’m old enough to look after myself.
[Goes out to the right.]

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN
[enters from the left, elaborately dressed.]
Now, Mr. Stensgard, I’m at your service. Is it anything of importance — ?

STENSGARD.
No, only that I want you to be good enough to let me know when Mr. Monsen comes.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
He won’t be here to-day.

STENSGARD.
Not to-day?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
No; he drove past here at four this morning; he’s always driving about nowadays. What’s more, he came in and roused me out of bed — he wanted to borrow money, you must know.

STENSGARD.
Monsen did?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Yes. He’s a tremendous man to get through money is Monsen. I hope things may turn out all right for him. And I say the same to you; for I hear you’re going into Parliament.

STENSGARD.
I? Nonsense. Who told you so?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Oh, some of Mr. Lundestad’s people.

DANIEL HEIRE
[enters from the back.]
Hee-hee! Good-morning! I’m not in the way, am I?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Gracious, no!

HEIRE.
Good God, how resplendent! Can it be for me that you’ve got yourself up like this?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Of course. It’s for you bachelors we get ourselves up, isn’t it?

HEIRE.
For marrying men, Madam Rundholmen; for marrying men! Unfortunately, my law-suits take up all my time —

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Oh, nonsense; you’ve always plenty of time to get married.

HEIRE.
No; deuce take me if I have! Marriage is a thing you’ve got to give your whole mind to. Well, well — if you can’t have me, you must put up with somebody else. For you ought to marry again.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Now, do you know, I’m sometimes of the same opinion.

HEIRE.
Naturally; when once one has tasted the joys of matrimony — Of course, poor Rundholmen was one in a thousand —

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Well, I won’t go so far as that; he was a bit rough, and rather too fond of his glass; but a husband’s always a husband.

HEIRE.
Very true, Madam Rundholmen; a husband’s a husband, and a widow’s a widow —

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
And business is business. Oh, when I think of all I’ve got to attend to, I don’t know whether I’m on my heels or my head. Every one wants to buy; but when it comes to paying, I’ve got to go in for summonses and executions, and Lord knows what. Upon my word, I’ll soon have to engage a lawyer all to myself.

HEIRE.
I’ll tell you what, Madam Rundholmen, you should retain Mr. Stensgard; he’s a bachelor.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.
Oh, how you do talk! I won’t listen to a word more.
[Goes out to the right.]

HEIRE.
A substantial woman, sir! Comfortable and well-preserved; no children up to date; money well invested. Education too; she’s widely read, sir.

STENSGARD.
Widely read, eh?

HEIRE.
Hee-hee; she ought to be; she had charge of Alm’s circulating library for a couple of years. But your head’s full of other things to-day, I daresay.

STENSGARD.
Not at all; I don’t even know that I shall vote. Who are you going to vote for, Mr. Heire?

HEIRE.
Haven’t got a vote, sir. There was only one kennel that would qualify in the market, and that you bought.

STENSGARD.
If you’re at a loss for a lodging, I’ll give it up to you.

HEIRE.
Hee-hee, you’re joking. Ah, youth, youth! What a pleasant humour it has! But now I must be off and have a look at the menagerie. I’m told your whole League is afoot.
[Sees FIELDBO, who enters from the back.]
Here’s the Doctor, too! I suppose you have come on a scientific mission?

FIELDBO.
A scientific mission?

HEIRE.
Yes, to study the epidemic; you’ve heard of the virulent rabies agitatoria that has broken out? God be with you, my dear young friends?
[Goes out to the right.]

STENSGARD.
Tel me quickly — have you seen the Chamberlain to-day?

FIELDBO.
Yes.

STENSGARD.
And what did he say?

FIELDBO.
What did he say?

STENSGARD.
Yes; you know I have written to him.

FIELDBO.
Have you? What did you write?

STENSGARD.
That I am still of the same mind about his daughter; that I want to talk the matter over with him; and that I propose to call on him to-morrow.

FIELDBO.
If I were you, I should at least defer my visit. It is the Chamberlain’s birthday to-morrow; a crowd of people will be there —

STENSGARD.
That’s all right; the more the better. I hold big cards in my hand, let me tell you.

FIELDBO.
And perhaps you have bluffed a little with your big cards?

STENSGARD.
How do you mean?

FIELDBO.
I mean you have perhaps embellished your declaration of love with a few little threats or so?

STENSGARD.
Fieldbo, you have seen the letter!

FIELDBO.
No, I assure you —

STENSGARD.
Well, then, frankly — I have threatened him.

FIELDBO.
Ah! Then I have, in a way, an answer to your letter.

STENSGARD.
An answer? Out with it, man!

FIELDBO
[shows him a sealed paper.]
Look here — the Chamberlain’s proxy.

STENSGARD.
And who does he vote for?

FIELDBO.
Not for you, at any rate.

STENSGARD.
For whom then? For whom?

FIELDBO.
For the Sheriff and the Provost.

STENSGARD.
What! Not even for Lundestad?

FIELDBO.
No. And do you know why? Because Lundestad is going to propose you as his successor.

STENSGARD.
He dares to do this!

FIELDBO.
Yes, he does. And he added: “If you see Stensgard, you can tell him how I am voting; it will show him on what footing we stand.”

STENSGARD.
Good; since he will have it so!

FIELDBO.
Take care; it’s dangerous to tug at an old tower — it may come down on your head.

STENSGARD.
Oh, I have learnt wisdom in these two days.

FIELDBO.
Indeed? You’re not so wise but that you let old Lundestad lead you by the nose.

STENSGARD.
Do you think I haven’t seen through Lundestad? Do you think I don’t understand that he took me up because he thought I had won over the Chamberlain, and because he wanted to break up our League and keep Monsen out?

FIELDBO.
But now that he knows you haven’t won over the Chamberlain —

STENSGARD.
He has gone too far to draw back; and I’ve made good use of the time, and scattered announcements broadcast. Most of his supporters will abstain from voting; mine are all here —

FIELDBO.
It’s a big stride from the preliminary election to the final election.

STENSGARD.
Lundestad knows very well that if he fails me in the College of Electors, I’ll soon agitate him out of the town Council.

FIELDBO.
Not a bad calculation. And, to succeed in all this, you feel that you must strike root here more firmly than you have as yet done?

STENSGARD.
Yes, these people always demand material guarantees, community of interests —

FIELDBO.
Just so; and therefore Miss Bratsberg is to be sacrificed?

STENSGARD.
Sacrificed? If that were so, I should be no better than a scoundrel. But it will be for her happiness, that I’m convinced. What now? Fieldbo, why do you look like that? You have some underhand scheme of your own —

FIELDBO.
I?

STENSGARD.
Yes, you have! You are intriguing against me, behind my back. Why do you do that? Be open with me — will you?

FIELDBO.
Frankly, I won’t. You are so dangerous, so unscrupulous — well, so reckless at any rate, that one dare not be open with you. Whatever you know, you make use of without hesitation. But this I say to you as a friend: put Miss Bratsberg out of your head.

STENSGARD.
I cannot. I must extricate myself from these sordid surroundings. I can’t go on living in this hugger- mugger way. Here have I got to be hail-fellow-well-met with Dick, Tom, and Harry; to whisper in corners with them, to hobnob with them, to laugh at their beery witticisms; to be hand in glove with hobbledehoys and unlicked cubs. How can I keep my love of the People untarnished in the midst of all this? I feel as if all the electricity went out of my words. I have no elbow-room, no fresh air to breathe. Oh, a longing comes over me at times for exquisite women! I want something that brings beauty with it! I lie here in a sort of turbid eddy, while out there the clear blue current sweeps past me — But what can you understand of all this!