Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (57 page)

LIND.
        And so we really are — engaged?

FALK.
I should conclude so; but the only way
To be quite certain, is to ask Miss Jay.

LIND.
O no, I feel so confident, so clear!
So perfectly assured, and void of fear.
                [Radiantly, in a mysterious tone.
Hark! I had leave her fingers to caress
When from the coffee-board she drew the cover.

FALK
[lifting and emptying his glass]
.
Well, flowers of spring your wedding garland dress!

LIND
[doing the same]
.
And here I swear by heaven that I will love her
Until I die, with love as infinite
As now glows in me, — for she is so sweet!

FALK.
Engaged! Aha, so that was why you flung
The Holy Law and Prophets on the shelf!

LIND
[laughing]
.
And you believed it was the song you sung — !

FALK.
A poet believes all things of himself.

LIND
[seriously]
.
Don’t think, however, Falk, that I dismiss
The theologian from my hour of bliss.
Only, I find the Book will not suffice
As Jacob’s ladder unto Paradise.
I must into God’s world, and seek Him there.
A boundless kindness in my heart upsprings,
I love the straw, I love the creeping things;
They also in my joy shall have a share.

FALK.
Yes, only tell me this, though —

LIND.
                                 I have told it, —
My precious secret, and our three hearts hold it!

FALK.
But have you thought about the future?

LIND.
                                       Thought?
I? — thought about the future? No, from this
Time forth I live but in the hour that is.
In home shall all my happiness be sought;
We hold Fate’s reins, we drive her hither, thither,
And neither friend nor mother shall have right
To say unto my budding blossom: Wither!
For I am earnest and her eyes are bright,
And so it must unfold into the light!

FALK.
Yes, Fortune likes you, you will serve her turn!

LIND.
My spirits like wild music glow and burn;
I feel myself a Titan: though a foss
Opened before me — I would leap across!

FALK.
Your love, you mean to say, in simple prose,
Has made a reindeer of you.

LIND.
                            Well, suppose;
But in my wildest flight, I know the nest
In which my heart’s dove longs to be at rest!

FALK.
Well then, to-morrow it may fly
con brio
,
You’re off into the hills with the quartette.
I’ll guarantee you against cold and wet —

LIND.
Pooh, the quartette may go and climb in
trio
,
The lowly dale has mountain air for me;
Here I’ve the immeasurable fjord, the flowers,
Here I have warbling birds and choral bowers,
And lady fortune’s self, — for here is she!

FALK.
Ah, lady Fortune by our Northern water caught her!
                    [With a glance towards the house.
Hist — Svanhild —

LIND.
                 Well; I go, — disclose to none
The secret that we share alone with one.
‘Twas good of you to listen; now enfold it
Deep in your heart, — warm, glowing, as I told it.

[He goes out in the background to the others. FALK looks after him a moment, and paces up and down in the garden, visibly striving to master his agitation. Presently SVANHILD comes out with a shawl on her arm, and is going towards the back. FALK approaches and gazes at her fixedly. SVANHILD stops.

SVANHILD
[after a short pause]
.
You gaze at me so!

FALK
[half to himself]
.
                   Yes, ‘tis there — the same;
The shadow in her eyes’ deep mirror sleeping,
The roguish elf about her lips a-peeping,
It is there.

SVANHILD.
             What? You frighten me.

FALK.
                                     Your name
Is Svanhild?

SVANHILD.
             Yes, you know it very well.

FALK.
But do you know the name is laughable?
I beg you to discard it from to-night!

SVANHILD.
That would be far beyond a daughter’s right —

FALK
[laughing]
.
Hm. “Svanhild! Svanhild!”
                      [With sudden gravity.
                With your earliest breath
How came you by this prophecy of death?

SVANHILD.
Is it so grim?

FALK.
            No, lovely as a song,
But for our age too great and stern and strong,
How can a modern demoiselle fill out
The ideal that heroic name expresses?
No, no, discard it with your outworn dresses.

SVANHILD.
You mean the mythical princess, no doubt —

FALK.
Who, guiltless, died beneath the horse’s feet.

SVANHILD.
But now such acts are clearly obsolete.
No, no, I’ll mount his saddle! There’s my place!
How often have I dreamt, in pensive ease,
He bore me, buoyant, through the world apace,
His mane a flag of freedom in the breeze!

FALK.
Yes, the old tale. In “pensive ease” no mortal
Is stopped by thwarting bar or cullis’d portal;
Fearless we cleave the ether without bound;
In practice, tho’, we shrewdly hug the ground;
For all love life and, having choice, will choose it;
And no man dares to leap where he may lose it.

SVANHILD.
Yes! show me but the end, I’ll spurn the shore;
But let the end be worth the leaping for!
A Ballarat beyond the desert sands —
Else each will stay exactly where he stands.

FALK
[sarcastically]
.
I grasp the case; — the due conditions fail.

SVANHILD
[eagerly]
.
Exactly: what’s the use of spreading sail
When there is not a breath of wind astir?

FALK
[ironically]
.
Yes, what’s the use of plying whip and spur
When there is not a penny of reward
For him who tears him from the festal board,
And mounts, and dashes headlong to perdition?
Such doing for the deed’s sake asks a knight,
And knighthood’s now an idle superstition.
That was your meaning, possibly?

SVANHILD.
                                 Quite right.
Look at that fruit tree in the orchard close, —
No blossom on its barren branches blows.
You should have seen last year with what brave airs
It staggered underneath its world of pears.

FALK
[uncertain]
.
No doubt, but what’s the moral you impute?

SVANHILD
[with finesse]
.
O, among other things, the bold unreason
Of modern Zacharies who seek for fruit.
If the tree blossom’d to excess last season,
You must not crave the blossoms back in this.

FALK.
I knew you’d find your footing in the ways
Of old romance.

SVANHILD.
                Yes, modern virtue is
Of quite another stamp. Who now arrays
Himself to battle for the truth? Who’ll stake
His life and person fearless for truth’s sake?
Where is the hero?

FALK
[looking keenly at her]
.
                   Where is the Valkyria?

SVANHILD
[shaking her head]
.
Valkyrias find no market in this land!
When the faith lately was assailed in Syria,
Did you go out with the crusader-band?
No, but on paper you were warm and willing, —
And sent the “Clerical Gazette” a shilling.

   [Pause. FALK is about to retort, but checks
      himself, and goes into the garden.

SVANHILD [after watching him a moment, approaches him and asks gently: Falk, are you angry?

FALK.
                     No, I only brood, —

SVANHILD
[with thoughtful sympathy]
.
You seem to be two natures, still at feud, —
Unreconciled —

FALK.
               I know it well.

SVANHILD
[impetuously]
.
                               But why?

FALK
[losing self-control]
.
Why, why? Because I hate to go about
With soul bared boldly to the vulgar eye,
As Jock and Jennie hang their passions out;
To wear my glowing heart upon my sleeve,
Like women in low dresses. You, alone,
Svanhild, you only, — you, I did believe, —
Well, it is past, that dream, for ever flown. —

   [She goes to the summer-house and looks out;
      he follows.

You listen — ?

SVANHILD.
              To another voice, that sings.
Hark! every evening when the sun’s at rest,
A little bird floats hither on beating wings, —
See there — it darted from its leafy nest —
And, do you know, it is my faith, as oft
As God makes any songless soul, He sends
A little bird to be her friend of friends,
And sing for ever in her garden-croft.

FALK
[picking up a stone]
.
Then must the owner and the bird be near,
Or its song’s squandered on a stranger’s ear.

SVANHILD.
Yes, that is true; but I’ve discovered mine.
Of speech and song I am denied the power,
But when it warbles in its leafy bower,
Poems flow in upon my brain like wine —
Ah, yes, — they fleet — they are not to be won —

[FALK throws the stone. SVANHILD screams.

O God, you’ve hit it! Ah, what have you done!

[She hurries out to the the right and then quickly returns.

O pity! pity!

FALK
[in passionate agitation]
.
              No, — but eye for eye,
Svanhild, and tooth for tooth. Now you’ll attend
No further greetings from your garden-friend,
No guerdon from the land of melody.
That is my vengeance: as you slew I slay.

SVANHILD.
I slew?

FALK.
        You slew. Until this very day,
A clear-voiced song-bird warbled in my soul;
See, — now one passing bell for both may toll —
You’ve killed it!

SVANHILD.
                  Have I?

FALK.
                         Yes, for you have slain
My young, high-hearted, joyous exultation —
                                 [Contemptuously.
By your betrothal!

SVANHILD.
                   How! But pray explain — !

FALK.
O, it’s in full accord with expectation;
He gets his licence, enters orders, speeds to
A post, — as missionary in the West —

SVANHILD
[in the same tone]
.
A pretty penny, also, he succeeds to; —
For it is Lind you speak of — ?

FALK.
                               You know best
Of whom I speak.

SVANHILD
[with a subdued smile]
.
                 As the bride’s sister, true,
I cannot help —

FALK.
                Great God! It is not you — ?

SVANHILD.
Who win this overplus of bliss? Ah no!

FALK
[with almost childish joy]
.
It is not you! O God be glorified!
What love, what mercy does He not bestow!
I shall not see you as another’s bride; —
‘Twas but the fire of pain He bade me bear —
                    [Tries to seize her hand.
O hear me, Svanhild, hear me then —

SVANHILD
[pointing quickly to the background]
.
                                    See there!

   [She goes towards the house. At the same moment
      MRS. HALM, ANNA, MISS JAY, GULDSTAD, STIVER, and
      LIND emerge from the background. During the
      previous scene the sun has set; it is now dark.

MRS. HALM
[to SVANHILD]
.
The Strawmans may be momently expected.
Where have you been?

MISS JAY
[after glancing at FALK]
.
                     Your colour’s very high.

SVANHILD.
A little face-ache; it will soon pass by.

MRS. HALM.
And yet you walk at nightfall unprotected?
Arrange the room, and see that tea is ready;
Let everything be nice; I know the lady.
                              [Svanhild goes in.