Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (245 page)

Rebecca. Will you not have something hot to drink before you go?

Brendel. Of what nature, dear lady?

Rebecca. A cup of tea, or —

Brendel. A thousand thanks to the most generous of hostesses! — but I do not like trespassing on private hospitality.
(Waves his hand.)
Good-bye to you all!
(Goes to the door, but turns back.)
Oh, by the way — John — Mr. Rosmer — will you do your former tutor a service for old friendship’s sake?

Rosmer. With the greatest of pleasure.

Brendel. Good. Well, then, lend me — just for a day or two — a starched shirt.

Rosmer. Nothing more than that!

Brendel. Because, you see, I am travelling on foot — on this occasion. My trunk is being sent after me.

Rosmer. Quite so. But, in that case, isn’t there anything else?

Brendel. Well, I will tell you what — perhaps you have an old, worn-out summer coat that you could spare?

Rosmer. Certainly I have.

Brendel. And if there happened to be a pair of presentable shoes that would go with the coat.

Rosmer. I am sure we can manage that, too. As soon as you let us know your address, we will send the things to you.

Brendel. Please don’t think of it! No one must be put to any inconvenience on my account! I will take the trifles with me.

Rosmer. Very well. Will you come upstairs with me, then?

Rebecca. Let me go. Mrs. Helseth and I will see about it.

Brendel. I could never think of allowing this charming lady —

Rebecca. Nonsense! Come along, Mr. Brendel.
(She goes out by the door on the right.)

Rosmer
(holding BRENDEL back)
. Tell me — is there no other way I can be of service to you?

Brendel. I am sure I do not know of any. Yes, perdition seize it! — now that I come to think of it — John, do you happen to have seven or eight shillings on you?

Rosmer. I will see.
(Opens his purse.)
I have two half-sovereigns here.

Brendel. Oh, well, never mind. I may as well take them. I can always get change in town. Thanks, in the meantime. Remember that it was two half-sovereigns I had. Good-night, my own dear boy! Good-night to you, sir!
(Goes out by the door on the right, where ROSMER takes leave of him and shuts the door after him.)

Kroll. Good heavens — and that is the Ulrik Brendel of whom people once thought that he would do great things!

Rosmer. At all events he has had the courage to live his life in his own way. I do not think that is such a small thing, after all.

Kroll. What? A life like his? I almost believe he would have the power, even now, to disturb all your ideas.

Rosmer. No, indeed. I have come to a clear understanding with myself now, upon all points.

Kroll. I wish I could believe it, my dear Rosmer. You are so dreadfully susceptible to impressions from without.

Rosmer. Let us sit down. I want to have a talk with you.

Kroll. By all means.
(They sit down on the couch.)

Rosmer
(after a short pause)
. Don’t you think everything here looks very pleasant and comfortable?

Kroll. Yes, it looks very pleasant and comfortable now — and peaceful. You have made yourself a real home, Rosmer. And I have lost mine.

Rosmer. My dear fellow, do not say that. There may seem to be a rift just now, but it will heal again.

Kroll. Never, never. The sting will always remain. Things can never be as they were before.

Rosmer. I want to ask you something, Kroll. You and I have been the closest of friends now for so many years — does it seem to you conceivable that anything could destroy our friendship?

Kroll. I cannot imagine anything that could cause a breach between us. What has put that into your head?

Rosmer. Well — your attaching such tremendous importance to similarity of opinions and views.

Kroll. Certainly I do; but then we two hold pretty similar opinions at all events on the most essential points.

Rosmer
(gently)
. No. Not any longer.

Kroll
(trying to jump up from his seat)
. What is this?

Rosmer
(restraining him)
. No, you must sit still. Please, Kroll.

Kroll. What does it all mean? I do not understand you. Tell me, straight out!

Rosmer. A new summer has blossomed in my heart — my eyes have regained the clearness of youth. And, accordingly, I am now standing where —

Kroll. Where? Where are you standing?

Rosmer. Where your children are standing.

Kroll. You? You! The thing is impossible! Where do you say you are standing?

Rosmer. On the same side as Laurits and Hilda.

Kroll
(letting his head drop)
. An apostate. John Rosmer an apostate.

Rosmer. What you are calling apostasy ought to have made me feel sincerely happy and fortunate; but for all that I have suffered keenly, because I knew quite well it would cause you bitter sorrow.

Kroll. Rosmer, Rosmer, I shall never get over this.
(Looks at him sadly.)
To think that you, too, could bring yourself to sympathise with and join in the work of disorder and ruin that is playing havoc with our unhappy country.

Rosmer. It is the work of emancipation that I sympathise with.

Kroll. Oh yes, I know all about that. That is what it is called, by both those who are leading the people astray and by their misguided victims. But, be sure of this — you need expect no emancipation to be the result of the spirit that relies on the poisoning of the whole of our social life.

Rosmer. I do not give my allegiance to the spirit that is directing this, nor to any of those who are leading the fight. I want to try to bring men of all shades of opinion together — as many as I can reach — and bind them as closely together as I can. I want to live for and devote all the strength that is in me to one end only — to create a real public opinion in the country.

Kroll. So you do not consider that we have sufficient public opinion! I, for my part, consider that the whole lot of us are on the high road to be dragged down into the mire where otherwise only the common people would be wallowing.

Rosmer. It is just for that reason that I have made up my mind as to what should be the real task of public opinion.

Kroll. What task?

Rosmer. The task of making all our fellow-countrymen into men of nobility.

Kroll. All our fellow-countrymen — !

Rosmer. As many as possible, at all events.

Kroll. By what means?

Rosmer. By emancipating their ideas and purifying their aspirations, it seems to me.

Kroll. You are a dreamer, Rosmer. Are you going to emancipate them? Are you going to purify them?

Rosmer. No, my dear fellow — I can only try to awake the desire for it in them. The doing of it rests with themselves.

Kroll. And do you think they are capable of it?

Rosmer. Yes.

Kroll. Of their own power?

Rosmer. Yes, of their own power. There is no other that can do it.

Kroll
(getting up)
. Is that speaking as befits a clergyman?

Rosmer. I am a clergyman no longer.

Kroll. Yes, but — what of the faith you were brought up in?

Rosmer. I have it no longer.

Kroll. You have it no longer?

Rosmer
(getting up)
. I have given it up. I had to give it up, Kroll.

Kroll
(controlling his emotion)
. I see. Yes, yes. The one thing implies the other. Was that the reason, then, why you left the service of the Church?

Rosmer. Yes. When my mind was clearly made up — when I felt the certainty that it Was not merely a transitory temptation, but that it was something that I would neither have the power nor the desire to dismiss from my mind — then I took that step.

Kroll. So it has been fermenting in your mind as long as that. And we — your friends — have never been allowed to know anything of it. Rosmer, Rosmer — how could you hide the sorrowful truth from us!

Rosmer. Because I considered it was a matter that only concerned myself; and therefore I did not wish to cause you and my other friends any unnecessary pain. I thought I should be able to live my life here as I have done hitherto — peacefully and happily. I wanted to read, and absorb myself in all the works that so far had been sealed books to me — to familiarise myself thoroughly with the great world of truth and freedom that has been disclosed to me now.

Kroll. An apostate. Every word you say bears witness to that. But, for all that, why have you made this confession of your secret apostasy? Or why just at the present moment?

Rosmer. You yourself have compelled me to it, Kroll.

Kroll. I? I have compelled you?

Rosmer. When I heard of your violent behaviour at public meetings — when I read the reports of all the vehement speeches you made there of all your bitter attacks upon those that were on the other side — your scornful censure of your opponents — oh, Kroll, to think that you — you — could be the man to do that! — then my eyes were opened to my imperative duty. Mankind is suffering from the strife that is going on now, and we ought to bring peace and happiness and a spirit of reconciliation into their souls. That is why I step forward now and confess myself openly for what I am — and, besides, I want to put my powers to the test, as well as others. Could not you — from your side — go with me in that, Kroll?

Kroll. Never, as long as I live, will I make any alliance with the forces of disorder in the community.

Rosmer. Well, let us at least fight with honourable weapons, since it seems we must fight.

Kroll. I can have nothing more to do with any one who does not think with me on matters of vital importance, and I owe such a man no consideration.

Rosmer. Does that apply even to me?

Kroll. You yourself have broken with me, Rosmer.

Rosmer. But does this really mean a breach between us?

Kroll. Between us! It is a breach with all those who have hitherto stood shoulder to shoulder with you. And now you must take the consequences.

(REBECCA comes in from the room on the right and opens the door wide.)

Rebecca. Well, that is done! We have started him off on the road to his great sacrifice, and now we can go in to supper. Will you come in, Mr. Kroll?

Kroll
(taking his hat)
. Good-night, Miss West. This is no longer any place for me.

Rebecca
(excitedly)
. What do you mean?
(Shuts the door and comes nearer to the two men.)
Have you told him — ?

Rosmer. He knows now.

Kroll. We shall not let you slip out of our hands, Rosmer. We shall compel you to come back to us again.

Rosmer. I shall never find myself there any more.

Kroll. We shall see. You are not the man to endure standing alone.

Rosmer. I am not so entirely alone, even now. There are two of us to bear the solitude together here.

Kroll. Ah!
(A suspicion appears to cross his mind.)
That too! Beata’s words!

Rosmer. Beata’s?

Kroll
(dismissing the thought from his mind)
. No, no — that was odious of me. Forgive me.

Rosmer. What? What do you mean?