Three Dramas by Bjornstjerne M. Bjornson

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The Editor. Well?--who?

Mrs. Evje. Who has not an atom of heart.

The Editor. Ha, ha! "The natural affections!"--"family considerations!"
Truth, my dear lady, has no family ties; it has no respect even for a
"dying man."

Mrs. Evje. Yes, indeed--every decent man has some respect for
suffering, and even wicked men are silent in the presence of death!

The Editor. "Sufferer"--"dying man"--"martyr,"
I suppose! Oh, we know all that old story!

Harald (coming forward). Let me tell you that you are a--person
with whom I will not condescend to argue. (Walks away from him.)

The Editor (who has at once crossed the room). This theatrical
flaunting of the "dying man" before people's eyes, that a
calculating brother has permitted himself, is of course what is
really shocking in the whole affair. But I will tear the mask off him.

The Doctor (following him). Listen to me, now; listen!
We are gentlefolk, you know! And even if Mr. Rejn
has let himself be so carried away as to mention his
dying brother on a public occasion--well, I am not going
to say that I approve of it, but surely it is excusable
and--

Harald (coming forward). I want none of your defence, thank you!

The Doctor. The one of you is just as mad as the other! (To the
EDITOR.) But what has all this to do with Evje, seeing that, after all,
the whole of this affair of the Rejns'--

Evje (to the EDITOR, eagerly). I give you my word of honour that I
have never approved of Harald's utterances about his brother,
either. I am a man of moderation, as you know; I do not approve
of his politics. Only to-day--

Mrs. Evje. And what on earth have politics to do with the Stock
Exchange Committee?

The Doctor. Or with Evje's coachman!

Evje. You might just as well take it into your head to write about
my clerks, or my workmen, or--

The Doctor. His carpenters, or his brewers--or his horses!

The Editor (stands suddenly still and says, drily): You may assure
yourselves that things are quite sufficient as they are! (Begins to
button up his coat.)

Evje. Is it so bad as all that!

Mrs. Evje. Good gracious!--what is it then?

The Editor (taking up his hat). You will be able to read it
to-morrow, together with some more about the "dying man."
Good-bye!

Evje and Mrs. Evje (together.) But before you go--

The Doctor. Hush, hush! Let us remember we are gentlefolk! What
will you bet that the whole thing is not just a bogey to frighten you?

The Editor (holding out his hand towards the DOCTOR).
I hold Mr. Evje's position in the town in the hollow of my hand!

Evje (fuming). Is your object to ruin _that_, then?

Mrs. Evje. You will never succeed in that!

The Doctor. Hush, hush! let us remember we are gentlefolk!

Evje. In my own house--my old schoolfellow--that
he should have the audacity--!

The Editor. I have told you the truth openly. And, as far as that
goes, you have stood more than that from me in your own house,
my boy. Because the misfortune is that you are a coward.

Evje. _I_ a coward?

The Doctor (laughing). Hush, hush! Let us remember we are
gentlefolk!

Evje. Yes, I have been weak enough to be afraid of
scandal, especially in the newspapers, it is true; that is why I have
put up with you too long! But now you shall see that I am not a
coward. Leave my house!

Mrs. Evje. That's right!

The Doctor. But you must part like gentlefolk, you know.

The Editor. Pooh! You will be sending me a message
directly, to call me back!

Evje. You have the face to say that?

Mrs. Evje (to EVJE). Come, dear, don't provoke him any more!

The Editor (turning to go). You daren't do otherwise.

The Doctor. But part like gentlefolk--!

Evje (following the EDITOR). No, as sure as I live--

The Editor. You will be sending a message to call me back! Ha, ha,
ha!

Evje. Never, never!

Mrs. Evje. My dear--!

The Editor. Yes, you will--directly--this very day! Ha, ha, ha!

The Doctor. Don't part like that! Part like gentle--

Evje. No, I tell you!

The Editor (laughing all the time). Yes!

Mrs. Evje. My dear-remember you may bring on one of your
attacks!

The Editor (at the door). You are too much of a coward! Ha! ha!
(Goes out.)

Evje (in a rage). No!

The Editor (sticking his head in at the door). Yes! (Goes away.)

The Doctor. What a visit! I cannot help laughing, all the same! Ha,
ha, ha, ha!

Evje. Do you dare to laugh at that?

The Doctor. "Old schoolfellows"--ha, ha! "Moderation"--ha, ha!
"The same party"--ha, ha, ha!

Mrs. Evje. Oh, my husband is ill!

Evje (faintly). Yes--a little water!

Mrs. Evje. Water, water, Harald!

The Doctor. One of his attacks--that is another affair altogether.
Here (takes a bottle from his pocket)--smell this! That's it! Now, a
little water! (Gives him some.) No danger this time. Cheer up, old
boy!

Evje. What a scandal!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, you will never be able to bear it, dear; I told you
so.

Evje. To think of _my_ name appearing in the papers, when all my
life I have--

Mrs. Evje. --done everything you could to keep clear of such
things! And you such a dear, good, upright man!--Oh, these politics
are the curse of the world!

The Doctor (laughing). As I told you, you must go through a
special process of hardening before you can stand them.

Evje. And think of public opinion--my position--my connections! It
is more than I can bear!

Mrs. Evje (to the Doctor). I am sure the first time he reads
something about himself in the paper, it will make him really ill!
He won't be able to stand it, I know.

The Doctor. Oh, he will get over it.

Mrs. Evje. No, he won't. I am frightened at the mere thought of it.
He will never be able to bear it, never!

Evje. When all my life I have tried to keep clear of such things--!

Mrs. Evje. And now in your old age, though you deserve it no
more than a child does, to be dragged into it! If I could prevent
that, I would willingly take on my own shoulders whatever--

Evje. No, no--not you! Not you!

The Doctor. But the thing is not necessarily done because he
threatened he would do it.

Evje. Do you think--?

The Doctor. He is so dreadfully hot-headed, but I am sure he will
think twice--

Mrs. Evje. --before he attacks a lifelong friend! Yes, that is so, isn't
it!

Evje. Do you really think that there is any possibility then--?

The Doctor. I really can't say!

Mrs. Evje. Nothing in the world is impossible!

Evje. We were both so hot-headed.

The Doctor. Yes, it will have to be a more peaceable conversation
than that of a few minutes ago!

Evje. I don't know how it is--there is something so provoking about
him.

Mrs. Evje. Yes, and you have not been very well lately, either. I
have often said so to you.

Evje. No, I haven't. It has been just one thing after another! And all
my life I have tried to keep clear of such things!

The Doctor. I will tell you what, old friend; I am sure the best thing
to do would be--

Evje. What?

The Doctor. I am sure you will not be easy in your mind until
someone has talked to him.

Mrs. Evje. Yes, couldn't that be done? Good gracious, that is not
sending a message to him!

Evje. But who would--? (A short silence.)

The Doctor. I don't know who would be best.

Mrs. Evje. All our old friends have deserted us; we shall soon have
none.

The Doctor. Well, at all events, you have me.

Evje. Would you really be willing to--? Do you mean it? (Grasps his
hand.)

The Doctor. Of course I will! He can't eat me!

Mrs. Evje. How good you are! Of course you only need tell him--
what is quite true--that my husband would never be able to bear it!
He, who all these years--

Evje. --have put up with an incredible amount for his sake, both
from himself and from others!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, that is true! And now you will go, dear friend--our
only friend!--and talk to him quite amicably and sensibly, won't
you?

Evje. But don't delay! He is so hot-headed that we must find him
before--

The Doctor. Oh, I will find him; he is always about the town.

Evje. And tell him--ask him--

The Doctor. Oh, I know what to say to him.

Mrs. Evje. That is right!

Evje. Thank you! I shall never forget how, at a moment when
everything threatened to overwhelm me, you were the only one to
stand by me! Ah, I feel as if a load had fallen off my shoulders! I
feel all at once quite happy again!

The Doctor. That's right. You pull yourself together! I will see to
everything else.

Evje. Thanks, thanks! But make haste!

The Doctor. I am off! My hat? (Turns, and sees HARALD, and says to
himself.) A-ha! He looks as if he had had about enough of this. It
would have been a joke to--

Evje. Oh, do make haste, my friend!

The Doctor. Yes, yes--if only I could find my hat.

Mrs. Evje. It is on the table.

The Doctor. So it is!

Evje. Good luck to you!

Mrs. Evje. And do it very tactfully!

The Doctor (meaningly). And I hope you three will enjoy
yourselves! (Goes out.)

Evje. What a morning!

Mrs. Evje. We, who have always endeavoured to take everything
quietly and indulgently--

Evje. Yes, and to conduct our family affairs peaceably and
affectionately! (Jumps up and turns to HARALD.) The whole thing is
_your_ fault!

Mrs. Evje. Yes, it is Harald's fault! From the day this unfortunate
engagement came about, we have scarcely had a moment's peace
here.

Evje. No, no, that is not the case! We must be reasonable. At first,
when Mr. Rejn had a fine future before him, when people vied
with one another to catch him, then the engagement was an honour
to us as well as to our daughter. But from the moment he took up these
wretched politics--that is to say, from the time his brother fell ill--
well, he can see for himself what the result has been to us!

Mrs. Evje. And he certainly must admit that it is not what we
have deserved; indeed it is more than a respected and well-bred
family can put up with.

Harald. I quite agree that it is more than a respected and
well-bred family _ought_ to put up with.

Mrs. Evje. Oh, so _you_ feel that too?

Harald. Certainly. And the only excuse I can see is that there are
many more in the same case. It is only in that way that such
things become possible.

Evje. I do not understand. Many more like--?--like whom?

Harald. Like you!

Mrs. Evje. In what respect?

Harald. I will explain. Most of the successful politicians
nowadays have not gained their position by means of any
greatness of their own, but by the pitiable weakness of others.
Another age will form a different estimate of them--see them in
their proper perspective, and find them to be much smaller men!

Evje. But what has that to do with us?

Harald. Well, just try to size up that man whom a little while ago
you turned out of your house and afterwards sent a message to--

Evje. We sent _no_ message to him!

Mrs. Evje. A friend of ours has gone to talk to him. That is quite a
different thing!

Harald. Well, take his measure by yours and yours by his! He
went away, and he will come back like a conquering hero. Will
that be thanks to his greatness, or his talent--to the loftiness of his
opinions or his feelings? No,--it will be thanks to your pitiable
weakness.

Mrs. Evje. Upon my word!

Evje. Well, I--!

Harald. Do you think any one who has any pluck in his
disposition would consent to be a party to such a contemptible
state of things? Think of your own daughter, educated by that
good old man who lies in there, but an obedient child to you;
think how she must be perpetually torn between what she loves
and respects and what she sees going on here! No wonder she is
ill! But remember this--she is not ill because she sticks to me;
she is ill because of your pitiable weakness!

Mrs. Evje. How can you dare to say such things! So you too--!

Evje. Such an absolute want of respect!

Harald. Listen to me, once for all. I intend, God helping me, to
take up the fight that has killed my brother, the noblest man I
know! And Gertrud is going to take up _her_ share in the fight, as I
do mine. But to come to this house as long as _he_ comes here--to go
through what I have gone through to-day--sullies my self-respect
to such an extent, and offends my better feelings so deeply, that
either he never sets foot here again, or I do not!

Evje and Mrs. Evje. But--!

Harald (quietly). When I came here to-day, I thought we should
be able to arrange matters without my speaking out; but there is
nothing else for it, so good-bye! (Goes out. A moment's silence
follows.)

Mrs. Evje. Is _he_ giving _us_ our dismissal? Or does he not really
mean to break with us?--My dear, what is the matter? (Goes to
her husband's side.)

Evje (without moving). Tell me, my dear--am I a bad man?

Mrs. Evje. You, a bad man?

Evje. Because, if I were not a bad, wicked man, they could not
behave in such a way to me, one after the other.

Mrs. Evje. But, my dear, you are the best and dearest and most
considerate of men! And they are shameless traitors to you, my
dear husband!

Evje. But how on earth, then, could it come about that I, who all
my life have tried to keep clear of such things--for I have, haven't I?

Mrs. Evje. Every one knows that, that knows anything about you.

Evje. How could it come about that in my old age I should be
despised and forsaken by everybody? Surely it is no crime to
want to live in peace, apart from all that sort of thing?

Mrs. Evje. No, indeed; that is what all decent people want to do.

Evje. Yes, I thought so too. But now you see!

Mrs. Evje. But _you_ have been dreadfully unfortunate.

Evje. Why should I have been just the one to be dreadfully
unfortunate? Most people escape such things altogether.

Mrs. Evje (starting). Here is Gertrud.

Evje. Poor child!

Mrs. Evje. What on earth are we to say to her?

Evje. Be careful, my dear! be careful! (GERTRUD comes in quietly
and comes forward to them.)

Gertrud. Did I see Harald go away?

Mrs. Evje. Yes, my child, he--he went away.

Gertrud. Without saying good-bye to me?

Evje. That's true, he didn't say good-bye to you.

Mrs. Evje. Were you expecting him to come into grandfather's
room to say good-bye to you?

Gertrud. Yes. Tell me how things went here?

Evje. Why were you not here, dear?

Gertrud (in astonishment). I here? You said you did not want me
to be present--

Evje. I remember, yes; we thought it would not be advisable.

Gertrud (still speaking quietly, but in growing alarm).
But how did things go, then?

Evje. How did they go? Badly.

Mrs. Evje (hurriedly). That is to say, he did not behave at all well.
You must prepare yourself for the worst, my child!

Gertrud. Is it something very bad, then?

Evje. You know he is a little hasty just now, when he has so much
on his hands. He lacks a proper sense of moderation--but he will
learn it, sure enough.

Gertrud (almost inaudibly). But what does it mean? Is he never
coming back?

Evje. Never coming back? What an extraordinary question! Of
course he will come back. He was only a little over-hasty, you
know--

Gertrud. And said he would never come back?

Mrs. Evje. Come, come, my dear--you mustn't be alarmed.

Evje. He talked such a lot, you know, that we must not attach any
particular importance to anything he said.

Gertrud. So that is how it is!

Mrs. Evje. We must make allowances for all that he is going
through just now--

Evje (suddenly). My child, you look so pale--

Mrs. Evje (going to her). Gertrud!

Gertrud (with a quiet movement of protest). I must give grandfather
his drink; that was really what I came for. And that was how I
happened to see Harald through the window. I will take grandfather
his drink. (The curtain falls as she goes out of the room.)

ACT II

(SCENE.--A street in the "villa quarter" of the town. Between it
and another street running parallel with it in the background, are
two houses standing in gardens, half of the facade of one of them
projecting into the stage on the right. On the left a third street
runs at right angles to the others, to the back of the stage. The
left side of this third street opens onto a well-wooded park.
The house in the foreground on the right is in two stories. There
is a narrow strip of garden in front of it, enclosed by an iron
railing with a gate in it. The gate is standing open. The entrance
door to the house is immediately behind this gate. There is light
in a small window by the door; the ground floor windows are in
darkness; in those of the upper floor, light is visible through
heavy curtains. It is a wintry evening, and everything is swathed
in an unusually thick fog, in which the gas lamps in the streets
show dimmer and dimmer as they recede in the distance. As the
curtain goes up, a lamplighter is seen descending his ladder from a
lamp-post, where he has just lit the lamp at the corner of the
house.)

The Lamplighter (as he reaches the ground). It's all one whether
the lamps are lit or not, in such a fog as this. (MRS. EVJE is seen
drawing back the curtain at a window on the first floor. She opens
the window and looks out.)

Mrs. Evje. The fog is so thick, my dear, that I can't see across
the street.

Evje (coming to the window, with fur coat and cap on). So it is!--
Well, so much the better, my dear! (They withdraw into the room;
the window is shut and the curtains drawn. Two passers-by come
along the street from the right, talking.)

First Passer-by. The Land of Fogs--the old idea of the land of Fogs
was that of a vision of confused and faint sensation, with the
light of the intelligence dimmed and blurred like these gas lamps
in the fog.

Second Passer-by. It would be that, if our hearts did not often act
as guiding lights to our befogged intelligences. Look at this house
behind us--the brandy distiller's. The devilish workings of his
intelligence have befogged the whole country--befogged it with
brandy--and some such guiding light is much needed there.

First Passer-by. Ah, well,--the old idea of the Land of Fogs was
that fogs were--. (The sound of their conversation dies away as
they pass into the park on the left. GERTRUD, closely veiled and
wrapped in furs, comes slowly out of the park. She stops at the
corner and looks down the street, then passed slowly along to the
right, looking up at the house as she goes. She is scarcely out of
sight when the house-door opens and EVJE comes out.)

Evje. This is about the time he comes home--I daren't go to his
house and ask for him; I don't know if he would admit me. I
daren't trust to the Doctor alone.--This uncertainty is dreadful!
(He starts at seeing GERTRUD, whom he does not recognise in the
fog, walking towards him. She turns suddenly and walks back the
way she came.) Who was that? She gave me quite a fright in this
fog! Her furs seemed rather like--no, no, it couldn't be. I must
not let any one recognise me. (Puts up the high collar of his coat,
so that only his nose is visible.) Both of them called me a coward,
but they are very much mistaken. It is not cowardice for a man who
is respected and honoured to try and avoid scandal. Hm! Naturally
those who trade in scandals think otherwise!--To act without
attaching weight to the opinion of others, to disregard one's own
predilections, to put up with being laughed at--all for the sake of
preventing a scandal--that is to be strong and courageous. And it
_is_ admirable, too; for it is admirable to act fearlessly in the
interest of one's family, and of one's business, and of propriety.
(Starts as he hears his door opened. JOHN has come along the street
and gone into the house.) Is that some one coming out of my house?
No, it is a man going in. And then to think of Harald Rejn
beginning that nonsense about my being a coward, because I refused
to become a party man! Every one ought to take sides in politics--
that is their cry. Hm! I should say it required rather more
courage nowadays to _refrain_ from taking sides. (Starts again.) Who
is that? Oh, only that woman again. She is waiting for some one
too. I expect we shall both catch bad colds. (Walks up and down.)
It is an odd sensation to be walking up and down on the watch
outside one's own house. Cowardice? Pshaw! To let one's self be
abused in a public street without stirring a finger to prevent it,
_that_ would be cowardice. I only hope he has not gone round the
other way? There is much more traffic in that street, and some one
might easily--. I think I will take a turn towards the town, and
turn back when I am a little way from here; it will look less
suspicious. I must catch him, because his paper will be going to
press. (Looks up at his house.) My poor wife, sitting up there
dreadfully alarmed on my account! (Goes out to the right. As soon
as he has gone, the house-door opens and JOHN comes warily out.)

JOHN. So he has gone out, has he! Oh, well, he is bound to come in
again! I will wait and catch him, that I will! Tra, la, la, la, la!
I can play about here in the fog till he comes back; I have nothing
to lose! And it will be best to catch him in the street; he will
make less fuss, and can't run away from me! Tra, la, la, la, la!
(Lounges out to the right. A moment later, HARALD comes out of the
park. He is dressed much as EVJE is, but has not his coat-collar
turned up.)

Harald. There is a light in her window! Then she is alone in her
room. What am I going to do now? Twice already I have come to look
at that light; now I have seen it--and must go away! Good-bye, my
darling! Be patient, and wait! I know your thoughts are with me
now; and I know you feel that mine are with you! (As he turns away
from the house he sees the veiled figure of GERTRUD, who, as soon
as she has come nearer, rushes to him, throws up her veil, and
falls into his arms in a glad embrace.)

Gertrud. I was certain that, if you could not go into the house
again, you would be out here! I knew you would not go away from me,
dear!

Harald. No--neither now nor ever.

Gertrud. And, while I was walking up and down here in the fog, I
felt that though there might be all this gloom tend cold around us
outside, there was the brightness and warmth of certainty in our
hearts.

Harald. Yes, our love is the one certainty for me! Fog may obscure
the goal I aim at, the road I have to I read, the very ground I
stand on; doubts may even for a while attack my faith; but my love
for you shines clear through it all!

Gertrud. Thank you, my darling! If that is so, there is nothing
that we cannot overcome!

Harald. Of course, you know what took place to-day?

Gertrud. I can guess.

Harald. Is it true that you are ill? Why did you never tell me?

Gertrud. No, the doctor is not telling the truth; I am not ill!
Even if I were, what matter? I should go on living as long as I
could--and should have done my duty before I gave in!

Harald. That is the way to look at it!

Gertrud. But I am not ill! I suffer, it is true--and am likely to--
every time you are persecuted, or my parents on my account. Because
_I_ have drawn them into all this that, they are so unfitted for,
and that is why it pains me so to see how unprepared it finds them
--most of all when, out of tenderness for me, they try to conceal
it. But I can't alter things. We are fighting for a cause that you
believe to be right, and so do I; surely that is better than never
to suffer at all in any good cause. Try me! Let me share the fight
with you! I am not weak; it is only that my heart is sore for those
I love.

Harald. You splendid, loyal creature!--and you are mine! (Embraces
her.)

Gertrud. You should hear what grandfather says!

Harald. Yes, how is the dear old gentleman?

Gertrud. Pretty well, thanks, though he never gets out now. But he
is following your work, and he says that what you are aiming at is
right, if you ask for God's guidance on your way. Harald--you will
always be the same as you are now--good and genuine--won't you,
dear? Not like the rest of them--nothing but bitterness and malice,
always talking of principles and consequences and all the rest of
it, and always attacking others? If one were obliged to be like
that, it would be a curse to be a politician.

Harald. I will be what you make me! I think that behind every man's
public life you can see his private life--whether he has a real
home, and what it is like, or whether he only has a place he lives
in--that is to say, no real home.

Gertrud. With God's help I shall try to make a bright, snug and
cosy home for you! And this fog is delightful, because it only
makes the thought of such a home all the cosier and snugger! It
makes us seem so alone, too; no one is out driving or walking; and
we can talk as loud as we please, because the fog deadens the sound
of our voices. Oh, I feel so happy again now! Do you know, I think
it is rather nice to be persecuted a little; it makes our meetings
so much more precious!

Harald. But, you know dear, to meet you like this--and just now--

Gertrud (as they walk up and down together). Yes, of course! I had
altogether forgotten how much you have to bear just now; I have
been chattering away--. Oh, I don't know how I could feel so happy,
because I am really dreadfully distressed. But, you know, I sit the
whole play beside grandfather, thinking, without even being able to
talk. I generally read aloud to him; now and then he makes a
remark, but he really lives more in the next world than in this one
now. (They hear a cough in the distance, and give a start, because
they recognise it. The EDITOR and EVJE, walking along together,
EVJE apparently talking very earnestly, are seen, indistinctly
through the fog, in the street running parallel with the one HARALD
and GERTRUD are in. JOHN is seen following them cautiously. They
disappear into the park.)

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