Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (6 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen
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FURIA. Your mind is strong as mine; yet you give up,
Disheartened and irresolute, each hope
Of triumph and dominion. You forsake
The battlefield, where all your inmost plans
Could grow and blossom forth into achievement.

 

CATILINE. I must! Inexorable fate decrees it!

 

FURIA. Your fate? Why were you given a hero’s strength, —
If not to struggle with what you call fate?

 

CATILINE. Oh, I have fought enough! Was not my life
A constant battle? What are my rewards?
Disgrace and scorn — !

 

FURIA. Ah, you are fallen low!
You struggle towards a high and daring goal,
Are eager to attain it; yet you fear
Each trifling hindrance.

 

CATILINE. Fear is not the reason.
The goal I sought is unattainable; —
The whole was but a fleeting dream of youth.

 

FURIA. Now you deceive yourself, my Catiline!
You hover still about that single project; —
Your soul is noble, — worthy of a ruler, —
And you have friends — . Ah, wherefore hesitate?

 

CATILINE.
[Meditating.]
I shall — ? What do you mean — ? With civil blood — ?

 

FURIA. Are you a man, — yet lack a woman’s courage?
Have you forgot that nimble dame of Rome,
Who sought the throne straight over a father’s corpse?
I feel myself a Tullia now; but you — ?
Scorn and despise yourself, O Catiline!

 

CATILINE. Must I despise myself because my soul
No longer harbors selfish aspirations?

 

FURIA. You stand here at a cross-road in your life;
Yonder a dull, inactive course awaits you, —
A half-way something, neither sleep nor death; —
Before you, on the other hand, you see
A sovereign’s throne. Then choose, my Catiline!

 

CATILINE. You tempt me and allure me to destruction.

 

FURIA. Cast but the die, — and in your hand is placed
Forevermore the welfare of proud Rome.
Glory and might your silent fate conceals,
And yet you falter, — dare not lift a hand!
You journey yonder to the forests, where
Each longing that you cherished will be quenched.
Ah, tell me, Catiline, is there no trace
Of thirst for glory left within your heart?
And must this princely soul, for triumphs born,
Vanish unknown in yonder nameless desert?
Hence, then! But know that thus you lose forever
What here you could by daring deeds attain.

 

CATILINE. Go on, go on!

 

FURIA. With trembling and with fear
The future generations will recall
Your fate. Your life was all a daring game; —
Yet in the lustre of atonement it would shine,
Known to all men, if with a mighty hand
You fought your way straight through this surging
throng, —
If the dark night of thraldom through your rule
Gave way before a new-born day of freedom, —
If at some time you —

 

CATILINE. Hold! Ah, you have touched
The string that quivers deepest in my soul.
Your every word sounds like a ringing echo
Of what my heart has whispered day and night.

 

FURIA. Now, Catiline, I know you once again!

 

CATILINE. I shall not go! You have recalled to life
My youthful zeal, my manhood’s full-grown longings.
Yes, I shall be a light to fallen Rome, —
Daze them with fear like some erratic star!
You haughty wretches, — you shall soon discover
You have not humbled me, though for a time
I weakened in the heat of battle!

 

FURIA. Listen!
Whatever be the will of fate, — whatever
The mighty gods decree, we must obey.
Just so! My hate is gone; — fate thus decreed,
And so it had to be! Give me your hand
In solemn compact! — Ah, you hesitate?
You will not?

 

CATILINE. Will — ? I gaze upon your eyes:
They flash, — like lightning in the gloom of night.
Now did you smile! Just so I’ve often pictured
Nemesis —

 

FURIA. What? Herself you wish to see, —
Then look within. Have you forgot your oath?

 

CATILINE. No, I remember; — yet you seem to me
A Nemesis —

 

FURIA. I am an image born
From your own soul.

 

CATILINE.
[Meditating.]
What is all this you say?
I sense but vaguely what I fail to grasp;
I glimpse mysterious, strangely clouded visions, —
But can not understand. I grope in darkness!

 

FURIA. It must be dark here. Darkness is our realm; —
In darkness is our rule. Give me your hand
In solemn pledge!

 

CATILINE.
[Wildly.]
O lovely Nemesis, —
My shadow, — image of my very soul, —
Here is my hand in everlasting compact.

 

[He seizes her hand violently; she looks at him with a stern smile.]

 

FURIA. Now we can never part!

 

CATILINE. Ah, like a stream
Of fire your touch went coursing through my veins!
‘Tis blood no more that flows, but fiery flames; —
My breast now cabins and confines my heart;
My sight grows dull. Soon shall a flaming sea
Illumine with its light the Roman state!

 

[He draws his sword and brandishes it.]

 

CATILINE. My sword! My sword! Do you see how it flashes?
Soon will it redden in their tepid blood! —
What change is this in me? My brow burns hot;
A multitude of visions flit before me. —
Vengeance it is, — triumph for all those dreams
Of greatness, regal power, and lasting fame.
My watch-word shall be: livid flames and death!
The capitol! Now first I am myself!

 

[He rushes out; FURIA follows him.]

 

[The inside of a dimly illumined tavern.]

 

[STATILIUS, GABINIUS, COEPARIUS, and other young
ROMANS enter.]

 

STATILIUS. Here, comrades, we can while away the night;
Here we are safe; no one will overhear us.

 

GABINIUS. Ah, yes; now let us drink, carouse, enjoy!
Who knows how long it will be granted us?

 

STATILIUS. No, let us first await whatever tidings
Lentulus and Cethegus have for us.

 

GABINIUS. Bah, let them bring whatever news they will!
Meanwhile the wine is here; come, let us taste.
Quick, brothers, quick, — let’s have a merry song!

 

[SERVANTS bring in wine and glasses.]

 

THE ASSEMBLED FRIENDS. (Sing.)

 

 Bacchus, all praise to thee!
  Joyful we raise to thee
  Brimful the beaker!
  Hail to thee, hail!
  Wine, red and glowing,
  Merrily flowing,
  Drink of the wine-god, —
  This be our song.

 

 Gracious and friendly
  Smiles father Liber;
  Drunkenness waits us;
  Clear is the wine.
  Come, do not tarry!
  Wine will make merry,
  Joyful and airy,
  Body and soul.

 

 Thou above all the
  Glittering bubbles,
  Sparkling Falernian,
  Glorious drink!
  Courage and power,
  These are your dower.
  Gladsome the gift you
  Bring to the soul.

 

 Bacchus, all praise to thee!
  Joyful we raise to thee
  Brimful the beaker!
  Hail to thee, hail!
  Wine, red and glowing,
  Merrily flowing,
  Drink of the wine-god, —
  This be our song.

 

[LENTULUS and CETHEGUS enter.]

 

LENTULUS. Cease all your song and merriment!

 

STATILIUS. What now?
Is Catiline not in your company?

 

GABINIUS. Surely he was quite willing?

 

COEPARIUS. Come, say forth!
What was his answer?

 

CETHEGUS. Ah, quite otherwise
Than we expected was his answer.

 

GABINIUS. Well?

 

LENTULUS. Well, all of our proposals he declined; —
He would not even hearken to our counsels.

 

STATILIUS. Is this the truth?

 

COEPARIUS. And wherefore would he not?

 

LENTULUS. In short, he will not. He forsakes his friends, —
Abandons us, — and leaves the city.

 

STATILIUS. What?
He leaves, you say?

 

CETHEGUS. ‘Tis true; — he goes away
This very night. Yet, — blamed he can not be;
His ground was valid —

 

LENTULUS. Fear was his excuse!
In danger he forsakes us faithlessly.

 

GABINIUS. That is the friendship of our Catiline!

 

COEPARIUS. Never was Catiline faithless or afraid!

 

LENTULUS. And yet he leaves us now.

 

STATILIUS. Our hopes go with him.
Where’s now the man to take the leadership?

 

COEPARIUS. He’ll not be found; our plan we must forego.

 

LENTULUS. Not yet, not yet, my friends! First you shall hear
What I will say. Now what have we resolved?
That we should win at last by force of arms
What an unrighteous destiny denied.
Tyrants oppress us; — yet we wish to rule.
We suffer want; — yet wealth is our desire.

 

MANY VOICES. Yes, wealth and power! Wealth and power we want!

 

LENTULUS. Yes, yes; we chose a comrade as our chief,
On whom there was no doubt we could rely.
Our trust he fails and turns his back to danger.
Ah, brothers, — be not daunted. He shall learn
We can succeed without him. What we need
Is some one man, fearless and resolute,
To take the lead —

 

SOME. Well, name us such a man!

 

LENTULUS. And should I name him, and should he comeforth, —
Will you then straightway choose him as your leader?

 

SOME. Yes, we will choose him!

 

OTHERS. Yes, we will, we will!

 

STATILIUS. Then name him, friend!

 

LENTULUS. Suppose it were myself?

 

GABINIUS. Yourself?

 

COEPARIUS. You, Lentulus — !

 

SEVERAL.
[In doubt.]
You wish to lead us?

 

LENTULUS. I do.

 

CETHEGUS. But can you? Such a task requires
The strength and courage of a Catiline.

 

LENTULUS. I do not lack the courage, nor the strength.
Each to his task! Or will you now turn back,
Now when the moment seems most opportune?
‘Tis now or never! All things prophesy
Success for us —

 

STATILIUS. Good; — we will follow you!

 

OTHERS. We’ll follow you!

 

GABINIUS. Well, now that Catiline
Forsakes our cause, you are no doubt the man
To lead us in our enterprise.

 

LENTULUS. Then hear
What plan of action I have outlined. First —

 

[CATILINE enters hastily.]

 

CATILINE. Here, comrades, here I am!

 

ALL. Catiline!

 

LENTULUS. He?
Oh, damned —

 

CATILINE. Speak out, — what do you ask of me?
Yet stay; I know already what it is.
I’ll lead you on. Say — will you follow me?

 

ALL (EXCEPT LENTULUS). Yes, Catiline, — we follow if you lead!

 

STATILIUS. They have deceived us —

 

GABINIUS. — and belied your name!

 

COEPARIUS. They said you did intend to leave the city
And wash your hands completely of our cause.

 

CATILINE. Yes, so I did. Yet now no more; henceforth
Only for this great purpose do I live.

 

LENTULUS. What is this mighty purpose you proclaim?

 

CATILINE. My purpose here is higher than you think —
Perhaps than any thinks. Ah, hear me, friends!
First will I win to us each citizen
Who prizes liberty and values most
The public honor and his country’s weal.
The spirit of ancient Rome is yet alive; —
The last faint spark is not yet wholly dead.
Now into brilliant flames it shall be fanned,
More glorious than ever flames before!
Alas, too long the stifling gloom of thraldom,
Dark as the night, lay blanketed on Rome.
Behold, — this realm — though proud and powerful
It seems — totters upon the edge of doom.
Therefore the stoutest hand must seize the helm.
Rome must be cleansed, — cleansed to the very roots;
The sluggish we must waken from their slumber, —
And crush to earth the power of these wretches
Who sow their poison in the mind and stifle
The slightest promise of a better life.
Look you,—’tis civic freedom I would further, —
The civic spirit that in former times
Was regnant here. Friends, I shall conjure back
The golden age, when Romans gladly gave
Their lives to guard the honor of the nation,
And all their riches for the public weal!

BOOK: Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen
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