OLD HUMMEL

_The_ STUDENT, _named Arkenholtz_

_The_ MILKMAID, _an apparition_

_The_ JANITRESS

_The_ GHOST _of the Consul_

_The_ DARK LADY, _daughter of the Consul and the_ JANITRESS

_The_ COLONEL

_The_ MUMMY, _wife of the_ COLONEL

_The_ YOUNG LADY, _supposedly the_ COLONEL'S _daughter_,

_but in reality the daughter of_ OLD HUMMEL

_The_ DANDY, _called Baron Skansenkorge and engaged to

the_ DARK LADY

JOHANSSON, _in the service of_ HUMMEL

BENGTSSON, _the valet of the_ COLONEL

_The_ FIANCÉE, _a white-haired old woman, formerly engaged

to_ HUMMEL

_The_ COOK

_A_ SERVANT-GIRL

BEGGARS

FIRST SCENE

_The stage shows the first and second stories of a modern

corner home. At the left, the house continues into the wings;

at the right, it faces on a street supposed to be running at

right angle to the footlights_.

_The apartment on the ground floor ends at the corner in a

round room, above which is a balcony belonging to the apartment

on the second floor. A flagstaff is fixed to the balcony_.

_When the shades are raised in the windows of the Round Room, a

statue of a young woman in white marble becomes visible inside,

strongly illumined by sunlight. It is surrounded by palms. The

windows on the left side of the Round Room contain a number of

flower-pots, in which grow blue, white, and red hyacinths_.

_A bedquilt of blue silk and two pillows in white cases are

hung over the railing of the balcony on the second floor. The

windows at the left of the balcony are covered with white

sheets on the inside_.

_A green bench stands on the sidewalk in front of the house.

The right corner of the foreground is occupied by a drinking

fountain; the corner at the left, by an advertising column_.

_The main entrance to the house is near the left wing. Through

the open doorway appears the foot of the stairway, with

steps of white marble and a banister of mahogany with brass

trimmings. On the sidewalk, flanking the entrance, stand two

laurel-trees in wooden tubs_.

_At the left of the entrance, there is a window on the ground

floor, with a window-mirror outside_.

_It is a bright Sunday morning_.

_When the curtain rises, the bells of several churches are

heard ringing in the distance_.

_The doors of the entrance are wide open, and on the lowest

step of the stairway stands the_ DARK LADY. _She does not make

the slightest movement_.

_The_ JANITRESS _is sweeping the hallway. Then she polishes the

brass knobs on the doors. Finally she waters the laurel-trees_.

_Near the advertising column_, OLD HUMMEL _is reading his

paper, seated in an invalid's chair on wheels. His hair and

beard are white, and he wears spectacles_.

_The_ MILKMAID _enters from the side street, carrying

milk-bottles in a crate of wire-work. She wears a light dress,

brown shoes, black stockings, and a white cap_.

_She takes off her cap and hangs it on the fountain; wipes the

perspiration from her forehead; drinks out of the cup; washes

her hands in the basin, and arranges her hair, using the water

in the basin as a mirror_.

_A steamship-bell is heard outside. Then the silence is broken

fitfully by a few bass notes from the organ in the nearest

church_.

_When silence reigns again, and the_ MILKMAID _has finished

her toilet, the_ STUDENT _enters from the left, unshaved and

showing plainly that he has spent a sleepless night. He goes

straight to the fountain. A pause ensues_.

STUDENT. Can I have the cup?

_The_ MILKMAID _draws back with the cup_.

STUDENT. Are you not almost done?

_The_ MILKMAID _stares at him with horror_.

HUMMEL. [_To himself_] With whom is he talking? I don't see anybody.

Wonder if he's crazy?

[_He continues to look at them with evident surprise_.

STUDENT. Why do you stare at me? Do I look so terrible--It is true

that I haven't slept at all, and I suppose you think I have been making

a night of it....

_The_ MILKMAID _remains as before_.

STUDENT. You think I have been drinking, do you? Do I smell of liquor?

_The_ MILKMAID _remains as before_.

STUDENT. I haven't shaved, of course.... Oh, give me a drink of water,

girl. I have earned it. [_Pause_] Well? Must I then tell you myself

that I have spent the night dressing wounds and nursing the injured?

You see, I was present when that house collapsed last night.... Now you

know all about it.

_The_ MILKMAID _rinses the cup, fills it with water, and hands

it to him_.

STUDENT. Thanks!

_The_ MILKMAID _stands immovable_.

STUDENT. [_Hesitatingly_] Would you do me a favour? [_Pause_] My eyes

are inflamed, as you can see, and my hands have touched wounds and

corpses. To touch my eyes with them would be dangerous.... Will you

take my handkerchief, which is clean, dip it in the fresh water, and

bathe my poor eyes with it?--Will you do that?--Won't you play the good

Samaritan?

_The_ MILKMAID _hesitates at first, but does finally what he

has asked_.

STUDENT. Thank you! [_He takes out his purse_.

_The_ MILKMAID _makes a deprecatory gesture_.

STUDENT. Pardon my absent-mindedness. I am not awake, you see....

_The_ MILKMAID _disappears_.

Hummel. [_To the_ STUDENT] Excuse a stranger, but I heard you mention

last night's accident.... I was just reading about it in the paper....

STUDENT. Is it already in the papers?

HUMMEL. All about it. Even your portrait. They are sorry, though, that

they have not been able to learn the name of the young student who did

such splendid work....

STUDENT. [_Glancing at the paper_] Oh, is that me? Well!

HUMMEL. Whom were you talking to a while ago?

STUDENT. Didn't you see? [_Pause_.

HUMMEL. Would it be impertinent--to ask--your estimable name?

STUDENT. What does it matter? I don't care for publicity. Blame is

always mixed into any praise you may get. The art of belittling is so

highly developed. And besides, I ask no reward....

HUMMEL. Wealthy, I suppose?

STUDENT. Not at all--on the contrary--poor as a durmouse!

HUMMEL. Look here.... It seems to me as if I recognised your voice.

When I was young, I had a friend who always said "dur" instead of

door. Until now he was the one person I had ever heard using that

pronunciation. You are the only other one.... Could you possibly be a

relative of the late Mr. Arkenholtz, the merchant?

STUDENT. He was my father.

HUMMEL. Wonderful are the ways of life.... I have seen you when you

were a small child, under very trying circumstances....

STUDENT. Yes, I have been told that I was born just after my father had

gone bankrupt.

HUMMEL. So you were.

STUDENT. May I ask your name?

HUMMEL. I am Mr. Hummel.

STUDENT. You are? Then I remember....

HUMMEL. Have you often heard my name mentioned at home?

STUDENT. I have.

HUMMEL. And not in a pleasant way, I suppose?

_The_ STUDENT _remains silent_.

HUMMEL. That's what I expected.--You were told, I suppose, that I had

ruined your father?--All who are ruined by ill-advised speculations

think themselves ruined by those whom they couldn't fool. [_Pause_]

The fact of it is, however, that your father robbed me of seventeen

thousand crowns, which represented all my savings at that time.

STUDENT. It is queer how the same story can be told in quite different

ways.

HUMMEL. You don't think that I am telling the truth?

STUDENT. How can I tell what to think? My father was not in the habit

of lying.

HUMMEL. No, that's right, a father never lies.... But I am also a

father, and for that reason....

STUDENT. What are you aiming at?

HUMMEL. I saved your father from misery, and he repaid me with the

ruthless hatred that is born out of obligation.... He taught his family

to speak ill of me.

STUDENT. Perhaps you made him ungrateful by poisoning your assistance

with needless humiliation.

HUMMEL. All assistance is humiliating, sir.

STUDENT. And what do you ask of me now?

HUMMEL. Not the money back. But if you will render me a small service

now and then, I shall consider myself well paid. I am a cripple, as you

see. Some people say it is my own fault. Others lay it to my parents.

I prefer to blame life itself, with its snares. To escape one of these

snares is to walk headlong into another. As it is, I cannot climb

stairways or ring door-bells, and for that reason I ask you: will you

help me a little?

STUDENT. What can I do for you?

HUMMEL. Give my chair a push, to begin with, so that I can read the

bills on that column. I wish to see what they are playing to-night.

STUDENT. [_Pushing the chair as directed_] Have you no attendant?

HUMMEL. Yes, but he is doing an errand. He'll be back soon. Are you a

medical student?

STUDENT. No, I am studying philology, but I don't know what profession

to choose....

HUMMEL. Well, well! Are you good at mathematics?

STUDENT. Reasonably so.

HUMMEL. That's good! Would you care to accept a position?

STUDENT. Yes, why not?

HUMMEL. Fine! [_Studying the playbills_] They are playing "The Valkyr"

at the matinee.... Then the Colonel will be there with his daughter,

and as he always has the end seat in the sixth row, I'll put you next

to him.... Will you please go over to that telephone kiosk and order a

ticket for seat eighty-two, in the sixth row?

STUDENT. Must I go to the opera in the middle of the day?

HUMMEL. Yes. Obey me, and you'll prosper. I wish to see you happy,

rich, and honoured. Your début last night in the part of the brave

rescuer will have made you famous by to-morrow, and then your name

will be worth a great deal.

STUDENT. [_On his way out to telephone_] What a ludicrous adventure!

HUMMEL. Are you a sportsman?

STUDENT. Yes, that has been my misfortune.

HUMMEL. Then we'll turn it into good fortune.--Go and telephone now.

_The_ STUDENT _goes out_. HUMMEL _begins to read his paper

again. In the meantime the_ DARK LADY _has come out on the

sidewalk and stands talking to the_ JANITRESS. HUMMEL _is

taking in their conversation, of which, however, nothing is

audible to the public_. _After a while the_ STUDENT _returns_.

HUMMEL. Ready?

STUDENT. It's done.

HUMMEL. Have you noticed this house?

STUDENT. Yes, I have been watching it.... I happened to pass by

yesterday, when the sun was making every window-pane glitter.... And

thinking of all the beauty and luxury that must be found within, I

said to my companion: "Wouldn't it be nice to have an apartment on the

fifth floor, a beautiful young wife, two pretty little children, and an

income of twenty thousand crowns?"...

HUMMEL. So you said that? Did you really? Well, well! I am very fond of

this house, too....

STUDENT. Do you speculate in houses?

HUMMEL. Mm-yah! But not in the way you mean.

STUDENT. Do you know the people who live here?

HUMMEL. All of them. A man of my age knows everybody, including

their parents and grandparents, and in some manner he always finds

himself related to every one else. I am just eighty--but nobody knows

_me_--not through and through. I am very much interested in human

destinies.

_At that moment the shades are raised in the Round Room on the

ground floor, and the_ COLONEL _becomes visible, dressed in

civilian clothes. He goes to one of the windows to study the

thermometer outside. Then he turns back into the room and stops

in front of the marble statue_.

HUMMEL. There's the Colonel now, who will sit next to you at the opera

this afternoon.

STUDENT. Is _he_--the Colonel? I don't understand this at all, but it's

like a fairy-tale.

HUMMEL. All my life has been like a collection of fairy-tales, my dear

sir. Although the tales read differently, they are all strung on a

common thread, and the dominant theme recurs constantly.

STUDENT. Whom does that statue represent?

HUMMEL. His wife, of course.

STUDENT. Was she very lovely?

HUMMEL. Mm-yah--well....

STUDENT. Speak out.

HUMMEL. Oh, we can't form any judgment about people, my dear boy. And

if I told you that she left him, that he beat her, that she returned to

him, that she married him a second time, and that she is living there

now in the shape of a mummy, worshipping her own statue--then you would

think me crazy.

STUDENT. I don't understand at all.

HUMMEL. I didn't expect you would. Then there is the window with the

hyacinths. That's where his daughter lives? She is out for a ride now,

but she will be home in a few moments.

STUDENT. And who is the dark lady talking to the janitress?

HUMMEL. The answer is rather complicated, but it is connected with the

dead man on the second floor, where you see the white sheets.

STUDENT. Who was he?

HUMMEL. A human being like you or me, but the most conspicuous thing

about him was his vanity.... If you were born on a Sunday, you might

soon see him come down the stairway and go out on the sidewalk to make

sure that the flag of the consulate is half-masted. You see, he was

a consul, and he revelled in coronets and lions and plumed hats and

coloured ribbons.

STUDENT. You spoke of being born on a Sunday.... So was I, I understand.

HUMMEL. No! Really?... Oh, I should have known.... The colour of your

eyes shows it.... Then you can see what other people can't. Have you

noticed anything of that kind?

STUDENT. Of course, I can't tell what other people see or don't see,

but at times.... Oh, such things you don't talk of!

HUMMEL. I was sure of it! And you can talk to me, because I--I

understand--things of that kind....

STUDENT. Yesterday, for instance.... I was drawn to that little side

street where the house fell down afterward.... When I got there, I

stopped in front of the house, which I had never seen before....

Then I noticed a crack in the wall.... I could hear the floor beams

snapping.... I rushed forward and picked up a child that was walking

in front of the house at the time.... In another moment the house came

tumbling down.... I was saved, but in my arms, which I thought held

the child, there was nothing at all....

HUMMEL. Well, I must say!... Much as I have heard.... Please tell me

one thing: what made you act as you did by the fountain a while ago?

Why were you talking to yourself?

STUDENT. Didn't you see the Milkmaid to whom I was talking?

HUMMEL. [_Horrified_] A milkmaid?

STUDENT. Yes, the girl who handed me the cup.

HUMMEL. Oh, that's what it was.... Well, I haven't that kind of sight,

but there are other things....

_A white-haired old woman is seen at the window beside the

entrance, looking into the window-mirror_.

HUMMEL. Look at that old woman in the window. Do you see her?--Well,

she was my fiancée once upon a time, sixty years ago.... I was twenty

at that time.... Never mind, she does not recognise me. We see each

other every day, and I hardly notice her--although once we vowed to

love each other eternally.... Eternally!

STUDENT. How senseless you were in those days! We don't talk to our

girls like that.

HUMMEL. Forgive us, young man! We didn't know better.--Can you see

that she was young and pretty once?

STUDENT. It doesn't show.... Oh, yes, she has a beautiful way of

looking at things, although I can't see her eyes clearly.

_The_ JANITRESS _comes out with a basket on her arm and begins

to cover the sidewalk with chopped hemlock branches, as is

usual in Sweden when a funeral is to be held_.

HUMMEL. And the Janitress--hm! That Dark Lady is her daughter and the

dead man's, and that's why her husband was made janitor.... But the

Dark Lady has a lover, who is a dandy with great expectations. He is

now getting a divorce from his present wife, who is giving him an

apartment-house to get rid of him. This elegant lover is the son-in-law

of the dead man, and you can see his bedclothes being aired on the

balcony up there.... That's a bit complicated, I should say!

STUDENT. Yes, it's fearfully complicated.

HUMMEL. It certainly is, inside and outside, no matter how simple it

may look.

STUDENT. But who was the dead man?

Hummel. So you asked me a while ago, and I answered you. If you could

look around the corner, where the servants' entrance is, you would see

a lot of poor people whom he used to help--when he was in the mood....

STUDENT. He was a kindly man, then?

HUMMEL. Yes--at times.

STUDENT. Not always?

HUMMEL. No-o.... People are like that!--Will you please move the chair

a little, so that I get into the sunlight? I am always cold. You see,

the blood congeals when you can't move about.... Death isn't far away

from me, I know, but I have a few things to do before it comes.... Just

take hold of my hand and feel how cold I am.

STUDENT. [_Taking his hand_] I should say so!

[_He shrinks back_.

HUMMEL. Don't leave me! I am tired now, and lonely, but I haven't

always been like this, you know. I have an endlessly long life back

of--enormously long.... I have made people unhappy, and other people

have made me unhappy, and one thing has to be put against the other,

but before I die, I wish to see you happy.... Our destinies have become

intertwined, thanks to your father--and many other things....

STUDENT. Let go my hand! You are taking all my strength! You are

freezing me! What do you want of me?

HUMMEL. Patience, and you'll see, and understand.... There comes the

Young Lady now....

STUDENT. The Colonel's daughter?

HUMMEL. His daughter--yes! Look at her!--Did you ever see such a

masterpiece?

STUDENT. She resembles the marble statue in there.

HUMMEL. It's her mother.

STUDENT. You are right.... Never did I see such a woman of woman

born!--Happy the man who may lead her to the altar and to his home!

HUMMEL. You see it, then? Her beauty is not discovered by everybody....

Then it is written in the book of life!

_The_ YOUNG LADY _enters from the left, wearing a close-fitting

English riding-suit. Without looking at any one, she walks

slowly to the entrance, where she stops and exchanges a few

words with the_ JANITRESS. _Then she disappears into the house.

The_ STUDENT _covers his eyes with his hand_.

HUMMEL. Are you crying?

STUDENT. Can you meet what is hopeless with anything but despair?

HUMMEL. I have the power of opening doors and hearts, if I can only

find an arm to do my will.... Serve me, and you shall also have

power....

STUDENT. Is it to be a bargain? Do you want me to sell my soul?

HUMMEL. Don't sell anything!... You see, all my life I have been used

to _take_. Now I have a craving to give--to give! But no one will

accept.... I am rich, very rich, but have no heirs except a scamp who

is tormenting the life out of me.... Become my son! Inherit me while

I am still alive! Enjoy life, and let me look on--from a distance, at

least!

STUDENT. What am I to do?

HUMMEL. Go and hear "The Valkyr" first of all.

STUDENT. That's settled--but what more?

HUMMEL. This evening you shall be in the Round Room.

STUDENT. How am I to get there?

HUMMEL. Through "The Valkyr."

STUDENT. Why have you picked me to be your instrument? Did you know me

before?

HUMMEL. Of course, I did! I have had my eyes on you for a long

time.... Look at the balcony now, where the Maid is raising the flag

at half-mast in honour of the consul.... And then she turns the

bedclothes.... Do you notice that blue quilt? It was made to cover

two, and now it is only covering one.... [_The_ YOUNG LADY _appears

at her window, having changed dress in the meantime; she waters the

hyacinths_] There is my little girl now. Look at her--look! She is

talking to her flowers, and she herself looks like a blue hyacinth.

She slakes their thirst--with pure water only--and they transform the

water into colour and fragrance.... There comes the Colonel with the

newspaper! He shows her the story about the house that fell down--and

he points at your portrait! She is not indifferent--she reads of your

deeds.... It's clouding up, I think.... I wonder if it's going to

rain? Then I shall be in a nice fix, unless Johansson comes back soon

[_The sun has disappeared, and now the stage is growing darker; the

white-haired old woman closes her window_] Now my fiancée is closing

her window.... She is seventy-nine--and the only mirror she uses is

the window-mirror, because there she sees not herself, but the world

around her--and she sees it from two sides--but it has not occurred to

her that she can be seen by the world, too.... A handsome old lady,

after all....

_Now the_ GHOST, _wrapped in winding sheets, comes out of the

entrance_.

STUDENT. Good God, what is that I see?

HUMMEL. What _do_ you see?

STUDENT. Don't _you_ see?... There, at the entrance.... The dead man?

HUMMEL. I see nothing at all, but that was what I expected. Tell me....

STUDENT. He comes out in the street.... [_Pause_] Now he turns his head

to look at the flag.

HUMMEL. What did I tell you? And you may be sure that he will count the

wreaths and study the visiting-cards attached to them.... And I pity

anybody that is missing!

STUDENT. Now he goes around the corner....

HUMMEL. He wants to count the poor at the other entrance.... The poor are

so decorative, you know.... "Followed by the blessings of many".... But

he won't get any blessing from me!--Between us, he was a big rascal!

STUDENT. But charitable....

HUMMEL. A charitable rascal, who always had in mind the splendid

funeral he expected to get.... When he knew that his end was near, he

cheated the state out of fifty thousand crowns.... And now his daughter

goes about with ... another woman's husband, and wonders what is in his

will.... Yes, the rascal can hear every word we say, and he is welcome

to it!--There comes Johansson now.

JOHANSSON _enters from the left_.

HUMMEL. Report!

JOHANSSON _can be seen speaking, but not a word of what he says

is heard_.

HUMMEL. Not at home, you say? Oh, you are no good!--Any telegram?--Not

a thing.... Go on!--Six o'clock to-night?--That's fine!--An extra, you

say?--With his full name?--Arkenholtz, a student, yes.... Born....

Parents.... That's splendid! I think it's beginning to rain.... What

did he say?--Is that so?--He won't?--Well, then he must!--Here comes

the Dandy.... Push me around the corner, Johansson, so I can hear what

the poor people have to say.... [_To the_ STUDENT] And you had better

wait for me here, Arkenholtz.... Do you understand?--[_To_ JOHANSSON]

Hurry up now, hurry up!

JOHANSSON _pushes the chair into the side street and out of

sight. The_ STUDENT _remains on the same spot, looking at the_

YOUNG LADY, _who is using a small rake to loosen up the earth

in her pots. The_ DANDY _enters and joins the_ DARK LADY, _who

has been walking back and forth on the sidewalk. He is in

mourning_.

DANDY. Well, what is there to do about it? We simply have to wait.

DARK LADY. But I can't wait!

DANDY. Is that so? Then you'll have to go to the country.

DARK LADY. I don't want to!

DANDY. Come this way, or they'll hear what we are saying.

_They go toward the advertising column and continue their talk

inaudibly_.

JOHANSSON. [_Entering from the right; to the_ STUDENT] My master asks

you not to forget that other thing.

STUDENT. [_Dragging his words_] Look here.... Tell me, please.... Who

_is_ your master?

JOHANSSON. Oh, he's so many things, and he has been everything....

STUDENT. Is he in his right mind?

JOHANSSON. Who can tell?--All his life he has been looking for one born

on Sunday, he says--which does not mean that it must be true....

STUDENT. What is he after? Is he a miser?

JOHANSSON. He wants to rule.... The whole day long he travels about in

his chair like the god of thunder himself He looks at houses, tears

them down, opens up new streets, fills the squares with buildings....

At the same time he breaks into houses, sneaks through open windows,

plays havoc with human destinies, kills his enemies, and refuses to

forgive anything.... Can you imagine that a cripple like him has been a

Don Juan--but one who has always lost the women he loved?

STUDENT. How can you make those things go together?

JOHANSSON. He is so full of guile that he can make the women leave

him when he is tired of them.... Just now he is like a horse thief

practising at a slave-market.... He steals human beings, and in all

sorts of ways.... He has literally stolen me out of the hands of the

law.... Hm.... yes.... I had been guilty of a slip. And no one but he

knew of it. Instead of putting me in jail, he made a slave of me. All I

get for my slavery is the food I eat, which might be better at that....

STUDENT. And what does he wish to do in this house here?

JOHANSSON. No, I don't want to tell! It's too complicated....

STUDENT. I think I'll run away from the whole story....

_The_ YOUNG LADY _drops a bracelet out of the window so that it

falls on the sidewalk_.

JOHANSSON. Did you see the Young Lady drop her bracelet out of the

window?

_Without haste, the_ STUDENT _picks up the bracelet and hands

it to the_ YOUNG LADY, _who thanks him rather stiffly; then he

returns to_ JOHANSSON.

JOHANSSON. So you want to run away? That is more easily said than done

when _he_ has got you in his net.... And he fears nothing between

heaven and earth except one thing or one person rather....

STUDENT. Wait--I think I know!

JOHANSSON. How could you?

STUDENT. I can guess! Is it not--a little milkmaid that he fears?

JOHANSSON. He turns his head away whenever he meets a milk wagon....

And at times he talks in his sleep.... He must have been in Hamburg at

one time, I think....

STUDENT. Is this man to be trusted?

JOHANSSON. You may trust him--to do anything!

STUDENT. What is he doing around the corner now?

JOHANSSON. Watching the poor dropping a word here and a word there....

loosening a stone at a time ... until the whole house comes tumbling

down, metaphorically speaking.... You see, I am an educated man, and I

used to be a book dealer.... Are you going now?

STUDENT. I find it hard to be ungrateful.... Once upon a time he saved

my father, and now he asks a small service in return....

JOHANSSON. What is it?

STUDENT. To go and see "The Valkyr"....

JOHANSSON. That's beyond me.... But he is always up to new tricks....

Look at him now, talking to the police-man! He is always thick with the

police. He uses them. He snares them in their own interests. He ties

their hands by arousing their expectations with false promises--while

all the time he is pumping them.... You'll see that he is received in

the Round Room before the day is over!

STUDENT. What does he want there? What has he to do with the Colonel?

JOHANSSON. I think I can guess, but know nothing with certainty. But

you'll see for yourself when you get there!

STUDENT. I'll never get there.

JOHANSSON. That depends on yourself!--Go to "The Valkyr."

STUDENT. Is that the road?

JOHANSSON. Yes, if he has said so--Look at him there--look at him in

his war chariot, drawn in triumph by the Beggars, who get nothing for

their pains but a hint of a great treat to be had at his funeral.

OLD HUMMEL _appears standing in his invalid's chair, which is

drawn by one of the_ BEGGARS, _and followed by the rest_.

HUMMEL. Give honour to the noble youth who, at the risk of his

own, saved so many lives in yesterday's accident! Three cheers for

Arkenholtz!

_The_ BEGGARS _bare their heads, but do not cheer. The_ YOUNG

LADY _appears at her window, waving her handkerchief. The_

COLONEL _gazes at the scene from a window in the Round Room.

The_ FIANCÉE _rises at her window. The_ MAID _appears on the

balcony and hoists the flag to the top_.

HUMMEL. Applaud, citizens! It is Sunday, of course, but the ass in the

pit and the ear in the field will absolve us. Although I was not born

on a Sunday, I have the gift of prophecy and of healing, and on one

occasion I brought a drowned person back to life.... That happened in

Hamburg on a Sunday morning just like this....

_The_ MILKMAID _enters, seen only by the_ STUDENT _and_ HUMMEL.

_She raises her arms with the movement of a drowning person,

while gazing fixedly at_ HUMMEL.

HUMMEL. [_Sits down; then he crumbles in a heap, stricken with horror_]

Get me out of here, Johansson! Quick!--Arkenholtz, don't forget "The

Valkyr!"

STUDENT. What is the meaning of all this?

JOHANSSON. We'll see! We'll see!

_Curtain_.

SECOND SCENE

_In the Round Room. An oven of white, glazed bricks occupies

the centre of the background. The mantelpiece is covered by a

large mirror. An ornamental clock and candelabra stand on the

mantelshelf_.

_At the right of the mantelpiece is a door leading into a

hallway, back of which may be seen a room papered in green,

with mahogany furniture. The_ COLONEL _is seated at a

writing-desk, so that only his back is visible to the public_.

_The statue stands at the left, surrounded by palms and with

draperies arranged so that it can be hidden entirely_.

_A door at the left of the mantelpiece opens on the Hyacinth

Room, where the_ YOUNG LADY _is seen reading a book_.

BENGTSSON, _the valet, enters from the hallway, dressed in

livery. He is followed by_ JOHANSSON _in evening dress with

white tie_.

BENGTSSON. Now you'll have to do the waiting, Johansson, while I take

the overclothes. Do you know how to do it?

JOHANSSON. Although I am pushing a war chariot in the daytime, as you

know, I wait in private houses at night, and I have always dreamt of

getting into this place.... Queer sort of people, hm?

BENGTSSON. Yes, a little out of the ordinary, one might say.

JOHANSSON. Is it a musicale, or what is it?

BENGTSSON. The usual spook supper, as we call it. They drink tea and

don't say a word, or else the Colonel does all the talking. And then

they munch their biscuits, all at the same time, so that it sounds like

the gnawing of a lot of rats in an attic.

JOHANSSON. Why do you call it a spook supper?

BENGTSSON. Because they look like spooks.... And they have kept this

up for twenty years--always the same people, saying the same things or

keeping silent entirely, lest they be put to shame.

JOHANSSON. Is there not a lady in the house, too?

BENGTSSON. Yes, but she is a little cracked. She sits all the time in a

closet, because her eyes can't bear the light. [_He points at a papered

door_] She is in there now.

JOHANSSON. In there, you say?

BENGTSSON. I told you they were a little out of the ordinary....

JOHANSSON. How does she look?

BENGTSSON. Like a mummy.... Would you care to look at her? [_He opens

the papered door_] There she is now!

JOHANSSON. Mercy!

MUMMY. [_Talking baby talk_] Why does he open the door? Haven't I told

him to keep it closed?

BENGTSSON. [_In the same way_] Ta-ta-ta-ta! Polly must be nice now.

Then she'll get something good. Pretty polly!

MUMMY. [_Imitating a parrot_] Pretty polly! Are you there, Jacob?

Currrrr!

BENGTSSON. She thinks herself a parrot, and maybe she's right [_To the_

MUMMY] Whistle for us, Polly.

_The_ MUMMY _whistles_.

JOHANSSON. Much I have seen, but never the like of it!

BENGTSSON. Well, you see, a house gets mouldy when it grows old, and

when people are too much together, tormenting each other all the time,

they lose their reason. The lady of this house.... Shut up, Polly!...

That mummy has been living here forty years--with the same husband, the

same furniture, the same relatives, the same friends.... [_He closes

the papered door_] And the happenings this house has witnessed! Well,

it's beyond me.... Look at that statue. That's the selfsame lady in her

youth.

JOHANSSON. Good Lord! Can that be the Mummy?

BENGTSSON. Yes, it's enough to make you weep!--And somehow, carried

away by her own imagination, perhaps, she has developed some of the

traits of the talkative parrot.... She can't stand cripples or sick

people, for instance.... She can't bear the sight of her own daughter,

because she is sick....

JOHANSSON. Is the Young Lady sick?

BENGTSSON. Don't you know that?

JOHANSSON. No.--And the Colonel--who is he?

BENGTSSON. That remains to be seen!

JOHANSSON. [_Looking at the statue_] It's horrible to think that....

How old is she now?

BENGTSSON. Nobody knows. But at thirty-five she is said to have looked

like nineteen, and that's the age she gave to the Colonel.... In this

house.... Do you know what that Japanese screen by the couch is used

for? They call it the Death Screen, and it is placed in front of the

bed when somebody is dying, just as they do in hospitals....

JOHANSSON. This must be an awful house! And the Student was longing for

it as for paradise....

BENGTSSON. What student? Oh, I know! The young chap who is coming here

to-night.... The Colonel and the Young Lady met him at the opera and

took a great fancy to him at once.... Hm!... But now it's my turn to

ask questions. Who's your master? The man in the invalid's chair?...

JOHANSSON. Well, well! Is he coming here, too?

BENGTSSON. He has not been invited.

JOHANSSON. He'll come without invitation--if necessary.

OLD HUMMEL _appears in the hallway, dressed in frock coat and

high hat. He uses crutches, but moves without a noise, so that

he is able to listen to the two servants._

BENGTSSON. He's a sly old guy, isn't he?

JOHANSSON. Yes, he's a good one!

BENGTSSON. He looks like the very devil.

JOHANSSON. He's a regular wizard, I think because he can pass through

locked doors....

HUMMEL. [_Comes forward and pinches the ear of_ JOHANSSON] Look out,

you scoundrel! [_To_ BENGTSSON] Tell the Colonel I am here.

BENGTSSON. We expect company....

HUMMEL. I know, but my visit is as good as expected, too, although not

exactly desired, perhaps....

BENGTSSON. I see! What's the name? Mr. Hummel?

HUMMEL. That's right.

BENGTSSON _crosses the hallway to the Green Room, the door of

which he closes behind him_.

HUMMEL. [_To_ JOHANSSON] Vanish!

JOHANSSON _hesitates_.

HUMMEL. Vanish, I say!

JOHANSSON _disappears through the hallway_.

HUMMEL. [_Looking around and finally stopping in front of the statue,

evidently much surprised_] Amelia!--It is she!--She!

_He takes another turn about the room, picking up various

objects to look at them; then he stops in front of the mirror

to arrange his wig; finally he returns to the statue_.

MUMMY. [_In the closet_] Prrretty Polly!

HUMMEL. [_Startled_] What was that? Is there a parrot in the room? I

don't see it!

MUMMY. Are you there, Jacob?

HUMMEL. The place is haunted!

MUMMY. Jacob!

HUMMEL. Now I am scared!... So that's the kind of secrets they have

been keeping in this house! [_He stops in front of a picture with his

back turned to the closet_] And that's he.... He!

MUMMY. [_Comes out of the closet and pulls the wig of_ HUMMEL] Currrrr!

Is that Currrrr?

HUMMEL. [_Almost lifted off his feet by fright_] Good Lord in

heaven!... Who are you?

MUMMY. [_Speaking in a normal voice_] Is that you, Jacob?

HUMMEL. Yes, my name is Jacob....

MUMMY. [_Deeply moved_] And my name is Amelia!

HUMMEL. Oh, no, no, no!--Merciful heavens!...

MUMMY. How I look! That's right!--And _have_ looked like that!

[_Pointing to the statue_] Life is a pleasant thing, is it not?... I

live mostly in the closet, both in order to see nothing and not to be

seen.... But, Jacob, what do you want here?

HUMMEL. My child our child....

MUMMY. There she sits.

HUMMEL. Where?

MUMMY. There--in the Hyacinth Room.

HUMMEL. [_Looking at the_ YOUNG LADY] Yes, that is she! [_Pause_] And

what does her father say.... I mean the Colonel.... your husband?

MUMMY. Once, when I was angry with him, I told him everything....

HUMMEL. And?...

MUMMY. He didn't believe me. All he said was: "That's what all women

say when they wish to kill their husbands."--It is a dreadful crime,

nevertheless. His whole life has been turned into a lie--his family

tree, too. Sometimes I take a look in the peerage, and then I say to

myself: "Here she is going about with a false birth certificate, just

like any runaway servant-girl, and for such things people are sent to

the reformatory."

HUMMEL. Well, it's quite common. I think I recall a certain

incorrectness in regard to the date of your own birth.

MUMMY. It was my mother who started that.... I was not to blame for

it.... And it was you, after all, who had the greater share in our

guilt....

HUMMEL. No, what wrong we did was provoked by your husband when he took

my fiancée away from me! I was born a man who cannot forgive until he

has punished. To punish has always seemed an imperative duty to me--and

so it seems still!

MUMMY. What are you looking for in this house? What do you want? How

did you get in?--Does it concern my daughter? If you touch her, you

must die!

HUMMEL. I mean well by her!

MUMMY. And you have to spare her father!

HUMMEL. No!

MUMMY. Then you must die ... in this very room ... back of that

screen....

HUMMEL. Perhaps.... but I can't let go when I have got my teeth in a

thing....

MUMMY. You wish to marry her to the Student? Why? He is nothing and has

nothing.

HUMMEL. He will be rich, thanks to me.

MUMMY. Have you been invited for to-night?

HUMMEL. No, but I intend to get an invitation for your spook supper.

MUMMY. Do you know who will be here?

HUMMEL. Not quite.

MUMMY. The Baron--he who lives above us, and whose father-in-law was

buried this afternoon....

HUMMEL. The man who is getting a divorce to marry the daughter of the

Janitress.... The man who used to be--your lover!

MUMMY. Another guest will be your former fiancée, who was seduced by my

husband....

HUMMEL. Very select company!

MUMMY. If the Lord would let us die! Oh, that we might only die!

HUMMEL. But why do you continue to associate?

MUMMY. Crime and guilt and secrets bind us together, don't you know?

Our ties have snapped so that we have slipped apart innumerable times,

but we are always drawn together again....

HUMMEL. I think the Colonel is coming.

MUMMY. I'll go in to Adèle, then.... [_Pause_] Consider what you do,

Jacob! Spare him....

[_Pause; then she goes out_.

COLONEL. [_Enters, haughty and reserved_] Won't you be seated, please?

HUMMEL _seats himself with great deliberation; pause_.

COLONEL. [_Staring at his visitor_] You wrote this letter, sir?

HUMMEL. I did.

COLONEL. Your name is Hummel?

HUMMEL. It is. [_Pause_.

COLONEL. As I learn that you have bought up all my unpaid and overdue

notes, I conclude that I am at your mercy. What do you want?

HUMMEL. Payment--in one way or another.

COLONEL. In what way?

HUMMEL. A very simple one. Let us not talk of the money. All you have

to do is to admit me as a guest....

COLONEL. If a little thing like that will satisfy you....

HUMMEL. I thank you.

COLONEL. Anything more?

HUMMEL. Discharge Bengtsson.

COLONEL. Why should I do so? My devoted servant, who has been with me a

lifetime, and who has the medal for long and faithful service.... Why

should I discharge him?

HUMMEL. Those wonderful merits exist only in your imagination. He is

not the man he seems to be.

COLONEL. _Who is_?

HUMMEL. [_Taken back_] True!--But Bengtsson must go!

COLONEL. Do you mean to order my household?

HUMMEL. I do ... as everything visible here belongs to me ...

furniture, draperies, dinner ware, linen and other things!

COLONEL. What other things?

HUMMEL. Everything! All that is to be seen is mine! I own it!

COLONEL. Granted! But for all that, my coat of arms and my unspotted

name belong to myself.

HUMMEL. No--not even that much! [_Pause_] You are not a nobleman!

COLONEL. Take care!

HUMMEL. [_Producing a document_] If you'll read this extract from the

armorial, you will see that the family whose name you are using has

been extinct for a century.

COLONEL. [_Reading the document_] I have heard rumours to that effect,

but the name was my father's before it was mine.... [_Reading again_]

That's right! Yes, you are right--I am not a nobleman! Not even

that!--Then I may as well take off my signet-ring.... Oh, I remember

now.... It belongs to you.... If you please!

HUMMEL. [_Accepting the ring and putting it into his pocket_] We had

better continue. You are no colonel, either.

COLONEL. Am I not?

HUMMEL. No, you have simply held the title of colonel in the American

volunteer service by special appointment. After the war in Cuba and the

reorganisation of the army, all titles of that kind were abolished....

COLONEL. Is that true?

HUMMEL. [_With a gesture toward his pocket_] Do you wish to see for

yourself?

COLONEL. No, it won't be necessary.--Who are you, anyhow, and with what

right are you stripping me naked in this fashion?

HUMMEL. You'll see by and by. As to stripping you naked--do you know

who you are in reality?

COLONEL. How dare you?

HUMMEL. Take off that wig, and have a look at yourself in the mirror.

Take out that set of false teeth and shave off your moustache, too. Let

Bengtsson remove the iron stays--and perhaps a certain X Y Z, a lackey,

may begin to recognise himself--the man who used to visit the maid's

chamber in a certain house for a bite of something good....

_The_ COLONEL _makes a movement toward a table on which stands

a bell, but is checked by_ HUMMEL.

HUMMEL. Don't touch that bell, and don't call Bengtsson! If you do,

I'll have him arrested.... Now the guests are beginning to arrive....

Keep your composure, and let us continue to play our old parts for a

while.

COLONEL. Who are you? Your eyes and your voice remind me of somebody....

HUMMEL. Don't try to find out! Keep silent and obey!

STUDENT. [_Enters and bows to the_ COLONEL] Colonel!

COLONEL. I bid you welcome to my house, young man. Your splendid

behaviour in connection with that great disaster has brought your name

to everybody's lips, and I count it an honour to receive you here....

STUDENT. Being a man of humble birth, Colonel and considering your name

and position....

COLONEL. May I introduce?--Mr. Arkenholtz--Mr. Hummel. The ladies are

in there, Mr. Arkenholtz--if you please--I have a few more things to

talk over with Mr. Hummel....

_Guided by the_ COLONEL, _the_ STUDENT _goes into the Hyacinth

Room, where he remains visible, standing beside the_ YOUNG LADY

_and talking very timidly to her_.

COLONEL. A splendid young chap--very musical--sings, and writes

poetry.... If he were only a nobleman--if he belonged to our class, I

don't think I should object....

HUMMEL. To what?

COLONEL. Oh, my daughter....

HUMMEL. _Your_ daughter, you say?--But apropos of that, why is she

always sitting in that room?

COLONEL. She has to spend all her time in the Hyacinth Room when she is

not out. That is a peculiarity of hers.... Here comes Miss Betty von

Holstein-Kron--a charming woman--a Secular Canoness, with just enough

money of her own to suit her birth and position....

Hummel. [_To__himself_] My fiancée!

_The_ FIANCÉE _enters. She is white-haired, and her looks

indicate a slightly unbalanced mind_.

COLONEL. Miss von Holstein-Kron--Mr. Hummel.

_The_ FIANCÉE _curtseys in old-fashioned manner and takes a

seat. The_ DANDY _enters and seats himself; he is in mourning

and has a very mysterious look._

COLONEL. Baron Skansenkorge....

HUMMEL. [_Aside, without rising_] That's the jewelry thief, I think....

[_To the_ COLONEL] If you bring in the Mummy, our gathering will be

complete.

COLONEL. [_Going to the door of the Hyacinth Room_] Polly!

MUMMY. [_Enters_] Currrrr!

COLONEL. How about the young people?

HUMMEL. No, not the young people! They must be spared.

_The company is seated in a circle, no one saying a word for a

while_.

COLONEL. Shall we order the tea now?

HUMMEL. What's the use? No one cares for tea, and I can't see the need

of pretending. [_Pause_.

COLONEL. Shall we make conversation?

HUMMEL. [_Speaking slowly and with frequent pauses._] Talk of the

weather, which we know all about? Ask one another's state of health,

which we know just as well? I prefer silence. Then thoughts become

audible, and we can see the past. Silence can hide nothing--but words

can. I read the other day that the differentiation of languages had its

origin in the desire among savage peoples to keep their tribal secrets

hidden from outsiders. This means that every language is a code, and

he who finds the universal key can understand every language in the

world--which does not prevent the secret from becoming revealed without

any key at times, and especially when the fact of paternity is to be

proved--but, of course, legal proof is a different matter. Two false

witnesses suffice to prove, anything on which they agree, but you don't

bring any witnesses along on the kind of expedition I have in mind.

Nature herself has planted in man a sense of modesty, which tends to

hide that which should be hidden. But we slip into situations unawares,

and now and then a favourable chance will reveal the most cherished

secret, stripping the impostor of his mask, and exposing the villain....

_Long pause during which everybody is subject to silent

scrutiny by all the rest_.

HUMMEL. How silent everybody is! [_Long silence_] Here, for instance,

in this respectable house, this attractive home, where beauty and

erudition and wealth have joined hands.... [_Long silence_] All of

us sitting here now--we know who we are, don't we? I don't need to

tell.... And all of you know me, although you pretend ignorance.... In

the next room is my daughter--_mine_, as you know perfectly well. She

has lost the desire to live without knowing why.... The fact is that

she has been pining away in this air charged with crime and deceit and

falsehood of every kind.... That is the reason why I have looked for

a friend in whose company she may enjoy the light and heat radiated

by noble deeds [_Long silence_] Here is my mission in this house: to

tear up the weeds, to expose the crimes, to settle all accounts, so

that those young people may start life with a clean slate in a home

that is my gift to them. [_Long silence_] Now I grant you safe retreat.

Everybody may leave in his due turn. Whoever stays will be arrested.

[_Long silence_] Do you hear that clock ticking like the deathwatch

hidden in a wall? Can you hear what it says?--"It's time! It's

time!"--When it strikes in a few seconds, your time will be up, and

then you can go, but not before. You may notice, too, that the clock

shakes its fist at you before it strikes. Listen! There it is! "Better

beware," it says.... And I can strike, too [_He raps the top of a table

with one of his crutches_] Do you hear?

_For a while everybody remains silent_.

MUMMY. [_Goes up to the dock and stops it; then she speaks in a normal

and dignified tone_] But I can stop time in its course. I can wipe

out the past and undo what is done. Bribes won't do that, nor will

threats--but suffering and repentance will [_She goes to_ HUMMEL] We

are miserable human creatures, and we know it. We have erred and we

have sinned--we, like everybody else. We are not what we seem, but

at bottom we are better than ourselves because we disapprove of our

own misdeeds. And when you, Jacob Hummel, with your assumed name,

propose to sit in judgment on us, you merely prove yourself worse than

all the rest. You are not the one you seem to be--no more than we!

You are a thief of human souls! You stole mine once upon a time by

means of false promises. You killed the Consul, whom they buried this

afternoon--strangling him with debts. You are now trying to steal the

soul of the Student with the help of an imaginary claim against his

father, who never owed you a farthing....

_Having vainly tried to rise and say something_, HUMMEL _sinks

back into his chair; as the_ MUMMY _continues her speech he

seems to shrink and lose volume more and more_.

MUMMY. There is one dark spot in your life concerning which I am not

certain, although I have my suspicions.... I believe Bengtsson can

throw light on it.

[_She rings the table-bell_.

HUMMEL. No! Not Bengtsson! Not him!

MUMMY. So he _does_ know? [_She rings again_.

_The_ MILKMAID _appears in the hallway, but is only seen by_

HUMMEL, _who shrinks back in horror. Then_ BENGTSSON _enters,

and the_ MILKMAID _disappears_.

MUMMY. Do you know this man, Bengtsson?

BENGTSSON. Oh yes, I know him, and he knows me. Life has its ups and

downs, as you know. I have been in his service, and he has been in

mine. For two years he came regularly to our kitchen to be fed by our

cook. Because he had to be at work at a certain hour, she made the

dinner far ahead of time, and we had to be satisfied with the warmed-up

leavings of that beast. He drank the soup-stock, so that we got nothing

but water. Like a vampire, the sucked the house of all nourishment,

until we became reduced to mere skeletons--and he nearly got us into

jail when we dared to call the cook a thief. Later I met that man in

Hamburg, where he had another name. Then he was a money-lender, a

regular leech. While there, he was accused of having lured a young girl

out on the ice in order to drown her, because she had seen him commit a

crime, and he was afraid of being exposed....

MUMMY. [_Making a pass with her hand over the face of_ HUMMEL _as if

removing a mask_] That's you! And now, give up the notes and the will!

JOHANSSON _appears in the hallway and watches the scene with

great interest, knowing that his slavery will now come to an

end_.

HUMMEL _produces a bundle of papers and throws them on the

table_.

MUMMY. [_Stroking the back of_ HUMMEL] Polly! Are you there, Jacob?

HUMMEL. [_Talking like a parrot_] Here is Jacob!--Pretty Polly! Currrr!

MUMMY. May the clock strike?

HUMMEL. [_With a clucking noise like that of a clock preparing to

strike_] The dock may strike! [_Imitating a cuckoo-clock]_ Cuckoo,

cuckoo, cuckoo....

MUMMY. [_Opening the closet door_] Now the clock has struck! Rise and

enter the closet where I have spent twenty years bewailing our evil

deed. There you will find a rope that may represent the one with which

you strangled the Consul as well as the one with which you meant to

strangle your benefactor.... Go!

HUMMEL _enters the closet_.

MUMMY. [_Closes the door after him_] Put up the screen, Bengtsson....

The Death Screen!

BENGTSSON _places the screen in front of the door._

MUMMY. It is finished! God have mercy on his soul!

ALL. Amen!

_Long silence. Then the_ YOUNG LADY _appears in the Hyacinth

Room with the_ STUDENT. _She seats herself at a harp and begins

a prelude, which changes into an accompaniment to the following

recitative_:

STUDENT. [_Singing_]

"Seeing the sun, it seemed to my fancy

That I beheld the Spirit that's hidden.

Man must for ever reap what he planted:

Happy is he who has done no evil.

Wrong that was wrought in moments of anger

Never by added wrong can be righted.

Kindness shown to the man whose sorrow

Sprang from your deed, will serve you better.

Fear and guilt have their home together:

Happy indeed is the guiltless man!"

_Curtain_.

THIRD SCENE

_A room furnished in rather bizarre fashion. The general effect

of it is Oriental. Hyacinths of different colours are scattered

everywhere. On the mantelshelf of the fireplace is seen a huge,

seated Buddha, in whose lap rests a bulb. From that bulb rises

the stalk of a shallot_ (Allium Ascalonicum), _spreading aloft

its almost globular cluster of white, starlike flowers_.

_An open door in the rear wall, toward the right-hand side,

leads to the Round Room, where the_ COLONEL _and the_ MUMMY

_are seated. They don't stir and don't utter a word. A part of

the Death Screen is also visible_.

_Another door, at the left, leads to the pantry and the

kitchen. The_ YOUNG LADY _[Adèle] and the_ STUDENT _are

discovered near a table. She is seated at her harp, and he

stands beside her_.

YOUNG LADY. Sing to my flowers.

STUDENT. Is this the flower of your soul?

YOUNG LADY. The one and only.--Are you fond of the hyacinth?

STUDENT. I love it above all other flowers. I love its virginal shape

rising straight and slender out of the bulb that rests on the water and

sends its pure white rootlets down into the colourless fluid. I love

the colour of it, whether innocently white as snow or sweetly yellow

as honey; whether youthfully pink or maturely red; but above all if

blue--with the deep-eyed, faith-inspiring blue of the morning sky. I

love these flowers, one and all; love them more than pearls or gold,

and have loved them ever since I was a child. I have always admired

them, too, because they possess every handsome quality that I lack....

And yet....

YOUNG LADY. What?

STUDENT. My love is unrequited. These beautiful blossoms hate me.

YOUNG LADY. How do you mean?

STUDENT. Their fragrance, powerful and pure as the winds of early

spring, which have passed over melting snow--it seems to confuse my

senses, to make me deaf and blind, to crowd me out of the room, to

bombard me with poisoned arrows that hurt my heart and set my head on

fire. Do you know the legend of that flower?

YOUNG LADY. Tell me about it.

STUDENT. Let us first interpret its symbolism. The bulb is the earth,

resting on the water or buried in the soil. From that the stalk rises,

straight as the axis of the universe. At its upper end appear the

six-pointed, starlike flowers.

YOUNG LADY. Above the earth--the stars! What lofty thought! Where did

you find it? How did you discover it?

STUDENT. Let me think.... In your eyes!--It is, therefore, an image of

the Cosmos. And that is the reason why Buddha is holding the earth-bulb

in his lap, brooding on it with a steady gaze, in order that he may

behold it spread outward and upward as it becomes transformed into a

heaven.... This poor earth must turn into a heaven! That is what Buddha

is waiting for!

YOUNG LADY. I see now.... Are not the snow crystals six-pointed, too,

like the hyacinth-lily?

STUDENT. You are right! Thus the snow crystal is a falling star....

YOUNG LADY. And the snowdrop is a star of snow--grown out of the snow.

STUDENT. But the largest and most beautiful of all the stars in the

firmament, the red and yellow Sirius, is the narcissus, with its

yellow-and-red cup and its six white rays....

YOUNG LADY. Have you seen the shallot bloom?

STUDENT. Indeed, I have! It hides its flowers within a ball, a globe

resembling the celestial one, and strewn, like that, with white

stars....

YOUNG LADY. What a tremendous thought! Whose was it?

STUDENT. Yours!

YOUNG LADY. No, yours!

STUDENT. Ours, then! We have jointly given birth to something: we are

wedded....

YOUNG LADY. Not yet.

STUDENT. What more remains?

YOUNG LADY. To await the coming ordeal in patience!

STUDENT. I am ready for it. [_Pause_] Tell me! Why do your parents sit

there so silently, without saying a single word?

YOUNG LADY. Because they have nothing to say to each other, and because

neither one believes what the other says. This is the way my father

puts it: "What is the use of talking, when you can't fool each other

anyhow?"

STUDENT. That's horrible....

YOUNG LADY. Here comes the Cook.... Look! how big and fat she is!

STUDENT. What does she want?

YOUNG LADY. Ask me about the dinner.... You see, I am looking after the

house during my mother's illness.

STUDENT. Have we to bother about the kitchen, too?

YOUNG LADY. We must eat.... Look at that Cook.... I can't bear the

sight of her....

STUDENT. What kind of a monster is she?

Young Lady. She belongs to the Hummel family of vampires. She is eating

us alive.

STUDENT. Why don't you discharge her?

YOUNG LADY. Because she won't leave. We can do nothing with her, and

we have got her for the sake of our sins.... Don't you see that we are

pining and wasting away?

STUDENT. Don't you get enough to eat?

YOUNG LADY. Plenty of dishes, but with all the nourishment gone from

the food. She boils the life out of the beef, and drinks the stock

herself, while we get nothing but fibres and water. In the same way,

when we have roast, she squeezes it dry. Then she eats the gravy and

drinks the juice herself. She takes the strength and savour out of

everything she touches. It is as if her eyes were leeches. When she has

had coffee, we get the grounds. She drinks the wine and puts water into

the bottles....

STUDENT. Kick her out!

YOUNG LADY. We can't!

STUDENT. Why not?

YOUNG LADY. We don't know! But she won't leave! And nobody can do

anything with her. She has taken all our strength away from us.

STUDENT. Will you let me dispose of her?

YOUNG LADY. No! It has to be as it is, I suppose.--Here she is now. She

will ask me what I wish for dinner, and I tell her, and then she will

make objections, and in the end she has her own way.

STUDENT. Why don't you leave it to her entirely?

YOUNG LADY. She won't let me.

STUDENT. What a strange house! It seems to be bewitched!

YOUNG LADY. It is!--Now she turned back on seeing you here.

COOK. [_Appearing suddenly in the doorway at that very moment_] Naw,

that was not the reason.

[_She grins so that every tooth can be seen_.

STUDENT. Get out of here!

COOK. When it suits me! [_Pause_] Now it does suit me!

[_She disappears_.

YOUNG LADY. Don't lose your temper! You must practise patience.

She is part of the ordeal we have to face in this house. We have a

chambermaid, too, after whom we have to put everything back where it

belongs.

STUDENT. Now I am sinking! _Cor in aethere!_ Music!

YOUNG LADY. Wait!

STUDENT. Music!

YOUNG LADY. Patience!--This is named the Room of Ordeal.... It is

beautiful to look at, but is full of imperfections.

STUDENT. Incredible! Yet such things have to be borne. It is very

beautiful, although a little cold. Why don't you have a fire?

YOUNG LADY. Because the smoke comes into the room.

STUDENT. Have the chimney swept!

YOUNG LADY. It doesn't help.--Do you see that writing-table?

STUDENT. Remarkably handsome!

YOUNG LADY. But one leg is too short. Every day I put a piece of cork

under that leg. Every day the chambermaid takes it away when she sweeps

the room. Every day I have to cut a new piece. Both my penholder and my

inkstand are covered with ink every morning, and I have to clean them

after that woman--as sure as the sun rises. [_Pause]_ What is the worst

thing you can think of?

STUDENT. To count the wash. Ugh!

YOUNG LADY. That's what I have to do. Ugh!

STUDENT. Anything else?

YOUNG LADY. To be waked out of your sleep and have to get up and dose

the window--which the chambermaid has left unlatched.

STUDENT. Anything else?

YOUNG LADY. To get up on a ladder and tie on the cord which the

chambermaid has torn from the window-shade.

STUDENT. Anything else?

YOUNG LADY. To sweep after her; to dust after her; to start the fire

again, after she has merely thrown some wood into the fireplace! To

watch the damper in the fireplace; to wipe every glass; to set the

table over again; to open the wine-bottles; to see that the rooms are

aired; to make over your bed; to rinse the water-bottle that is green

with sediment; to buy matches and soap, which are always lacking; to

wipe the chimneys and cut the wicks in order to keep the lamps from

smoking and in order to keep them from going out when we have company,

I have to fill them myself....

STUDENT. Music!

YOUNG LADY. Wait! The labour comes first--the labour of keeping the

filth of life at a distance.

STUDENT. But you are wealthy, and you have two servants?

YOUNG LADY. What does that help? What would it help to have three? It

is troublesome to live, and at times I get tired.... Think, then, of

adding a nursery!

STUDENT. The greatest of joys....

YOUNG LADY. And the costliest.... Is life really worth so much trouble?

STUDENT. It depends on the reward you expect for your labours.... To

win your hand I would face anything.

YOUNG LADY. Don't talk like that. You can never get me.

STUDENT. Why?

YOUNG LADY. You mustn't ask.

[_Pause_.

STUDENT. You dropped your bracelet out of the window....

YOUNG LADY. Yes, because my hand has grown too small....

[_Pause_.

_The_ COOK _appears with a bottle of Japanese soy in her hand_.

YOUNG LADY. There is the one that eats me and all the rest alive.

STUDENT. What has she in her hand?

COOK. This is my colouring bottle that has letters on it looking like

scorpions. It's the soy that turns water into bouillon, and that takes

the place of gravy. You can make cabbage soup out of it, or mock-turtle

soup, if you prefer.

STUDENT. Out with you!

COOK. You take the sap out of us, and we out of you. We keep the blood

for ourselves and leave you the water--with the colouring. It's the

colour that counts! Now I shall leave, but I stay just the same--as

long as I please!

[_She goes out_.

STUDENT. Why has Bengtsson got a medal?

YOUNG LADY. On account of his great merits.

STUDENT. Has he no faults?

YOUNG LADY. Yes, great ones, but faults bring you no medals, you know.

[_Both smile_.

STUDENT. You have a lot of secrets in this house....

YOUNG LADY. As in all houses.... Permit us to keep ours! [_Pause_.

STUDENT. Do you care for frankness?

YOUNG LADY. Within reason.

STUDENT. At times I am seized with a passionate craving to say all

I think.... Yet I know that the world would go to pieces if perfect

frankness were the rule. [_Pause_ I attended a funeral the other

day--in one of the churches--and it was very solemn and beautiful.

YOUNG LADY. That of Mr. Hummel?

STUDENT. Yes, that of my pretended benefactor. An elderly friend of the

deceased acted as mace-bearer and stood at the head of the coffin. I

was particularly impressed by the dignified manner and moving words of

the minister. I had to cry--everybody cried.... A number of us went to

a restaurant afterward, and there I learned that the man with the mace

had been rather too friendly with the dead man's son....

_The_ YOUNG LADY _stares at him, trying to make out the meaning

of his words_.

STUDENT. I learned, too, that the dead man had borrowed money of his

son's devoted friend.... [_Pause_] And the next day the minister was

arrested for embezzling the church funds.--Nice, isn't it?

YOUNG LADY. Oh! [_Pause_.

STUDENT. Do you know what I am thinking of you now?

YOUNG LADY. Don't tell, or I'll die!

STUDENT. I must, lest _I_ die!

YOUNG LADY. It is only in the asylum you say all that you think....

STUDENT. Exactly! My father died in a madhouse....

YOUNG LADY. Was he sick?

STUDENT. No, perfectly well, and yet mad. It broke out at last, and

these were the circumstances. Like all of us, he was surrounded by

a circle of acquaintances whom he called friends for the sake of

convenience, and they were a lot of scoundrels, of course, as most

people are. He had to have some society, however, as he couldn't sit

all alone. As you know, no one tells people what he thinks of them

under ordinary circumstances, and my father didn't do so either.

He knew that they were false, and he knew the full extent of their

perfidy, but, being a wise man and well brought up, he remained

always polite. One day he gave a big party.... It was in the evening,

naturally, and he was tired out by a hard day's work. Then the strain

of keeping his thoughts to himself while talking a lot of damned rot

to his guests.... [_The_ YOUNG LADY _is visibly shocked_] Well, while

they were still at the table, he rapped for silence, raised his glass,

and began to speak.... Then something loosed the trigger, and in a long

speech he stripped the whole company naked, one by one, telling them

all he knew about their treacheries. At last, when utterly tired out,

he sat down on the table itself and told them all to go to hell!

YOUNG LADY. Oh!

STUDENT. I was present, and I shall never forget what happened after

that. My parents had a fight, the guests rushed for the doors--and

my father was taken to a madhouse, where he died! [_Pause_] To keep

silent too long is like letting water stagnate so that it rots. That is

what has happened in this house. There is something rotten here. And

yet I thought it paradise itself when I saw you enter here the first

time.... It was a Sunday morning, and I stood gazing into these rooms.

Here I saw a Colonel who was no colonel. I had a generous benefactor

who was a robber and had to hang himself. I saw a Mummy who was not a

mummy, and a maiden--how about the maidenhood, by the by?... Where is

beauty to be found? In nature, and in my own mind when it has donned

its Sunday clothes. Where do we find honour and faith? In fairy-tales

and childish fancies. Where can I find anything that keeps its promise?

Only in my own imagination!... Your flowers have poisoned me and now

I am squirting their poison back at you.... I asked you to become my

wife in a home full of poetry, and song, and music; and then the

Cook appeared.... _Sursum corda!_ Try once more to strike fire and

purple out of the golden harp.... Try, I ask you, I implore you on my

knees.... [_As she does not move_] Then I must do it myself! [_He picks

up the harp, but is unable to make its strings sound_] It has grown

deaf and dumb! Only think that the most beautiful flower of all can

be so poisonous--that it can be more poisonous than any other one....

There must be a curse on all creation and on life itself.... Why did

you not want to become my bride? Because the very well-spring of life

within you has been sickened.... Now I can feel how that vampire in

the kitchen is sucking my life juices.... She must be a Lamia, one of

those that suck the blood of children. It is always in the servants'

quarters that the seed-leaves of the children are nipped, if it has

not already happened in the bedroom.... There are poisons that blind

you, and others that open your eyes more widely. I must have been born

with that second kind of poison, I fear, for I cannot regard what is

ugly as beautiful, or call evil good--I cannot! They say that Jesus

Christ descended into hell. It refers merely to his wanderings on this

earth--his descent into that madhouse, that jail, that morgue, the

earth. The madmen killed him when he wished to liberate them, but the

robber was set free. It is always the robber who gets sympathy! Woe!

Woe is all of us! Saviour of the World, save us--we are perishing!

_Toward the end of the_ STUDENT'S _speech, the_ YOUNG LADY

_has drooped more and more. She seems to be dying. At last she

manages to reach a bell and rings for_ BENGTSSON, _who enters

shortly afterward_.

YOUNG LADY. Bring the screen! Quick! I am dying!

BENGTSSON _fetches the screen, opens it and places it so that

the_ YOUNG LADY _is completely hidden behind_.

STUDENT. The liberator is approaching! Be welcome, thou pale and gentle

one!--Sleep, you beauteous, unhappy and innocent creature, who have

done nothing to deserve your own sufferings! Sleep without dreaming,

and when you wake again--may you be greeted by a sun that does not

burn, by a home without dust, by friends without stain, by a love

without flaw! Thou wise and gentle Buddha, who sitst waiting there to

see a heaven sprout from this earth, endow us with patience in the hour

of trial, and with purity of will, so that thy hope be not put to shame!

_The strings of the harp begin to hum softly, and a white light

pours into the room_.

STUDENT. [_Singing_]

"Seeing the sun, it seemed to my fancy

That I beheld the Spirit that's hidden.

Man must for ever reap what he planted:

Happy is he who has done no evil.

Wrong that was wrought in moments of anger

Never by added wrong can be righted.

Kindness shown to the man whose sorrow

Sprang from your deed, will serve you better.

Fear and guilt have their home together:

Happy indeed is the guiltless man!"[1]

_A faint moaning sound is heard from behind the screen_.

STUDENT. You poor little child--you child of a world of illusion,

guilt, suffering, and death--a world of eternal change,

disappointment, and pain--may the Lord of Heaven deal mercifully with

you on your journey!

_The whole room disappears, and in its place appears Boecklin's

"The Island of Death" Soft music, very quiet and pleasantly

wistful, is heard from without_.

_Curtain_.

[1] The lines recited by the _STUDENT_ are a paraphrase of several

passages from "The Song of the Sun" in the Poetic Edda. It is

characteristic of Strindberg's attitude during his final period that

this Eddic poem, which apparently has occupied his mind great deal, as

he has used it a number of times in "The Bridal Crown" also, is the

only one of that ancient collection which is unmistakably Christian

in its colouring. It has a certain apocryphal reputation and is not

regarded on a par with the other contents of the Poetic Edda.

THE FIRST WARNING

(FÖRSTA VARNINGEN)

A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

1893

CHARACTERS

_The_ HUSBAND, _thirty-seven (Axel Brunner)_

_The_ WIFE, _thirty-six (Olga Brunner)_

ROSE, _fifteen_

_The_ BARONESS, _her mother, forty-seven_

_A_ MAID

_The scene is laid in Germany, about_ 1890.

_A German dining-room, with a rectangular dinner-table

occupying the middle of the floor. A huge wardrobe stands at

the right. There is an oven of glazed bricks_.

_The door in the background stands open, disclosing a landscape

with vineyards, above which appears a church spire_.

_At the left is a door papered like the rest of the wait. A

travelling-bag is placed on a chair by the wardrobe_.

_The_ WIFE _is writing at the table, on which lie a bunch of

flowers and a pair of gloves_.

HUSBAND. [_Entering_] Good morning--although it's noon already. Did you

sleep well?

WIFE. Splendidly, considering the circumstances.

HUSBAND. Yes, we might have broken away a little earlier from that

party last night....

WIFE. I seem to remember that you made the same remark a number of

times during the night....

HUSBAND. [_Playing with the flowers_] Do you really remember that much?

WIFE. I remember also that you got mad because I sang too much....

Please don't spoil my flowers!

HUSBAND. Which previously belonged to the Captain, I suppose?

WIFE. Yes, and which probably belonged to the gardener before the

florist got them. But now they are mine.

HUSBAND. [_Throwing away the flowers_] It's a nice habit they have in

this place--of sending flowers to other people's wives.

WIFE. I think it would have been well for you to go to bed a little

earlier.

HUSBAND. I am perfectly convinced that the Captain was of the same

opinion. But as my one choice was to stay and be made ridiculous, or go

home alone and be made equally ridiculous, I preferred to stay....

WIFE. ... And make yourself ridiculous.

HUSBAND. Can you explain why you care to be the wife of a ridiculous

man? I should never care to be the husband of a ridiculous woman.

WIFE. You are to be pitied!

HUSBAND. Right you are. Frequently I have thought so myself. But do you

know what is the most tragical feature of my ridiculousness?

WIFE. I am sure your own answer will be much cleverer than any one I

could give.

HUSBAND. It is--that I am in love with my wife after fifteen years of

marriage....

WIFE. Fifteen years! Have you begun to use a pedometer?

HUSBAND. For the measurement of my thorny path, you mean? No. But you,

who are dancing on roses, might do well in counting your steps To me

you are still as young as ever--unfortunately--while my own hair is

turning grey. But as we are of the same age, my looks should tell you

that you must be growing old yourself....

WIFE. And that is what you are waiting for?

HUSBAND. Exactly. How many times have I not wished that you were old

and ugly, that you were pock-marked, that your teeth were gone, just to

have you to myself and be rid of this worry which never leaves me!

WIFE. How charming! And once you had me old and ugly, then everything

would be so very peaceful until you began to worry about somebody

else, and I was left to enjoy all that peace alone, by myself.

HUSBAND. No!

WIFE. Yes! It has been well proved that your love loses its fervour the

moment you have no reason to be jealous. Do you remember last summer,

when there was not a soul on that island but we two? You were away all

day, fishing, hunting, getting up an appetite, putting on flesh--and

developing a self-assurance that was almost insulting.

HUSBAND. And yet I recall being jealous--of the hired man.

WIFE. Merciful Heavens!

HUSBAND. Yes, I noticed that you couldn't give him an order without

making conversation; that you couldn't send him out to cut some wood

without first having inquired about the state of his health, his future

prospects, and his love-affairs.... You are blushing, I think?

WIFE. Because I am ashamed of you....

HUSBAND ... Who....

WIFE. ... Have no sense of shame whatever.

HUSBAND. Yes, so you say. But will you please tell me why you hate me?

WIFE. I don't hate you. I simply despise you! Why? Probably for the

same reason that makes me despise all men as soon as they--what do you

call it?--are in love with me. I am like that, and I can't tell why.

HUSBAND. So I have observed, and my warmest wish has been that I might

hate you, so that you might love me. Woe is the man who loves his own

wife!

WIFE. Yes, you are to be pitied, and so am I, but what can be done?

HUSBAND. Nothing. We have roved and roamed for seven years, hoping that

some circumstance, some chance, might bring about a change. I have

tried to fall in love with others, and have failed. In the meantime

your eternal contempt and my own continued ridiculousness have stripped

me of all courage, all faith in myself, all power to act. Six times I

have run away from you--and now I shall make my seventh attempt. [_He

rises and picks up the travelling-bag_.

WIFE. So those little trips of yours were attempts to run away?

HUSBAND. Futile attempts! The last time I got as far as Genoa. I went

to the galleries, but saw no pictures--only you. I went to the opera,

but heard nobody--only your voice back of every note. I went to a

Pompeian café, and the one woman that pleased me looked like you--or

seemed to do so later.

WIFE. [_Revolted_] You have visited places of that kind?

HUSBAND. Yes, that far have I been carried by my love--and by my

virtue, which has embarrassed me by making me ridiculous.

WIFE. That's the end of everything between us two!

HUSBAND. So I suppose, as I can't make you jealous.

WIFE. No, I don't know what it is to be jealous--not even of Rose, who

loves you to distraction.

HUSBAND. How ungrateful of me not to notice it! On the other hand, I

have had my suspicions of the old Baroness, who is all the time finding

excuses for visiting that big wardrobe over there. But as she is our

landlady, and the furniture belongs to her, I may be mistaken as to

the motive that makes our rooms so attractive to her.... Now I'll get

dressed, and in half an hour I shall be gone--without any farewells, if

you please!

WIFE. You seem rather afraid of farewells.

HUSBAND. Particularly when you are concerned in them!

_He goes out. The_ WIFE _remains alone a few moments. Then_

ROSE _enters. She is carelessly dressed, and her hair is down.

A scarf wrapped about her head and covering her cheeks and chin

indicates toothache. There is a hole on the left sleeve of her

dress, which ends half-way between her knees and her ankles_.

WIFE. Well, Rose!--What's the matter, child?

ROSE. Good morning, Mrs. Brunner. I have such a toothache that I wish I

were dead!

WIFE. Poor little thing!

ROSE. To-morrow is the Corpus Christi festival, and I was to walk in

the procession--and to-day I should be binding my wreath of roses, and

Mr. Axel has promised to help me with it.... Oh, those teeth!

WIFE. Let me see if there are any signs of decay--open your mouth

now!--What wonderful teeth you have! Perfect pearls, my dear child!

[_She kisses_ ROSE _on the mouth_.

ROSE. [_Annoyed_] You mustn't kiss me, Mrs. Olga! You mustn't! I don't

want it! [_She climbs up on the table and puts her feet on one of the

chairs_ ] Really, I don't know what I want! I should have liked to

go to that party yesterday--but I was forced to stay at home all by

myself in order to get my lessons done--just as if I were nothing but

a child--and then I have to sit on the same bench with those kids!

But all the same I won't let the Captain chuck me under the chin any

longer, for I am no child! No, I am not! And if my mother tries to pull

my hair again--I don't know what I'll do to her!

WIFE. What's the matter, my dear Rose? What has happened, anyhow?

ROSE. I don't know what is the matter, but I have shooting pains in

my head and in my teeth, and I feel as if I had a red-hot iron in my

back--and I am disgusted with life. I should like to drown myself. I

should like to run away, and go from one fair to another, and sing,

and be insulted by all sorts of impudent fellows....

WIFE. Listen, Rose! Listen to me now!

ROSE. I wish I had a baby! Oh, I wish it were not such an awful

shame to have a baby! Oh, Mrs. Olga [_She catches sight of the

travelling-bag_] Who is going away?

WIFE. My ... my husband.

ROSE. Then you have been nasty to him again, Mrs. Olga.--Where is he

going? Is he going far away? When will he be back?

WIFE. I--_I_ know nothing at all!

ROSE. Oh, you don't? Haven't you asked him even? [_She begins to

ransack the bag_] But I--_I_ can see that he is going far away, because

here is his passport. Very far, I am sure! How far, do you think?--Oh,

Mrs. Olga, why can't you be nice to him, when he is so kind to you?

[_She throws herself weeping into the arms of Mrs. Brunner_.

WIFE. Now, now, my dear child! Poor little girl--is she crying? Poor,

innocent heart!

ROSE. I like Mr. Axel so much!

WIFE. And you are not ashamed of saying so to his own wife? And you

want me to console you--you, who are my little rival?--Well, have a

good cry, my dear child. That helps a whole lot.

ROSE. [_Tearing herself away_] No! If I don't want to cry, I don't have

to! And if it suits me to pick up what you are throwing away, I'll do

so!--I don't ask any one's permission to like anybody or anything!

WIFE. Well, well, well! But are you so sure that he likes you?

ROSE. [_Throwing herself into the elder woman's arms again, weeping_]

No, I am not.

WIFE. [_Tenderly, as if talking to a baby_] And now perhaps you want

me to ask Mr. Axel to like you? Is that what Mrs. Olga has to do?

ROSE. [_Weeping_] Ye-es!--And he mustn't go away! He mustn't!--Please

be nice to him, Mrs. Olga! Then he won't go away.

WIFE. What in the world am I going to do, you little silly?

ROSE. I don't know. But you might let him kiss you as much as he

wishes.... I was watching you in the garden the other day, when he

wanted, and you didn't--and then I thought....

BARONESS. [_Entering_] Sorry to disturb you, madam, but with your

permission I should like to get into the wardrobe.

WIFE. [_Rising_] You're perfectly welcome, Baroness.

BARONESS. Oh, there is Rose.--So you are up again, and I thought you

were in bed!--Go back to your lessons at once.

ROSE. But you know, mamma, we have no school to-morrow because of the

festival.

BARONESS. You had better go anyhow, and don't bother Mr. and Mrs.

Brunner all the time.

WIFE. [_Edging toward the door in the background_] Oh, Rose is not

bothering us at all. We couldn't be better friends than we are.... We

were just going into the garden to pick some flowers, and then we meant

to try on the white dress Rose is to wear to-morrow.

ROSE. [_Disappears through the door in the background with a nod of

secret understanding to the_ WIFE] Thank you!

BARONESS. You are spoiling Rose fearfully.

WIFE. A little kindness won't spoil anybody, and least of all a girl

like Rose, who has a remarkable heart and a head to match it.

_The_ BARONESS _is digging around in the wardrobe for

something. The_ WIFE _stands in the doorway in the rear.

Entering by the door at the left with a number of packages,

the_ HUSBAND _exchanges a glance of mutual understanding with

his wife. Then hath watch the_ BARONESS _smilingly for a

moment. At last the_ WIFE _goes out, and the_ HUSBAND _begins

to put his packages into the travelling-bag_.

BARONESS. Pardon me for disturbing you.... I'll be through in a

moment....

HUSBAND. Please don't mind me, Baroness.

BARONESS. [_Emerging from the wardrobe_] Are you going away again, Mr.

Brunner?

HUSBAND. I am.

BARONESS. Far?

HUSBAND. Perhaps--and perhaps not.

BARONESS. Don't you know?

HUSBAND. I never know anything about my own fate after having placed it

in the hands of another person.

BARONESS. Will you pardon me a momentary impertinence, Mr. Brunner?

HUSBAND. That depends.... You are very friendly with my wife, are you

not?

BARONESS. As friendly as two women can be with each other. But my

age, my experience of life, my temperament.... [_She checks herself

abruptly_] However--I have seen that you are unhappy, and as I have

suffered in the same way myself, I know that nothing but time will cure

your disease.

HUSBAND. Is it really I who am diseased? Is not my behaviour quite

normal? And is not my suffering caused by seeing other people behave

abnormally or--pathologically?

BARONESS. I was married to a man whom I loved.... Yes, you smile! You

think a woman cannot love because.... But I did love him, and he loved

me, and yet--he loved others, too. I suffered from jealousy so that--so

that--I made myself insufferable. He went into the war--being an

officer, you know--and he has never returned. I was told that he had

been killed, but his body was never found, and now I imagine that he

is alive and bound to another woman.--Think of it! I am still jealous

of my dead husband. At night I see him in my dreams together with that

other woman.... Have you ever known torments like that, Mr. Brunner?

HUSBAND. You may be sure I have!--But what makes you think that he is

still alive?

[_He begins to arrange his things in the travelling-bag_.

BARONESS. A number of circumstances combined to arouse my suspicions at

one time, but for years nothing happened to revive them. Then you came

here four months ago, and, as a strange fate would have it, I noticed

at once a strong resemblance between you and my husband. It served me

as a reminder. And as my dreams took on flesh and blood, so to speak,

my old suspicions turned into certainty, and now I really believe that

he is alive? I am in a constant torment of jealousy--and that has

enabled me to understand you.

HUSBAND. [_Becoming attentive, after having listened for a while with

apparent indifference_] You say that I resemble your husband.--Won't

you be seated, Baroness?

BARONESS. [_Sits down at the table with her back to the public; the_

HUSBAND _takes a chair beside her_] He looked like you, and--barring

certain weaknesses--his character also....

HUSBAND. He was about ten years older than I.... And he had a scar on

his right cheek that looked as if it had been made by a needle....

BARONESS. That's right!

HUSBAND. Then I met your husband one night in London.

BARONESS. Is he alive?

HUSBAND. I have to figure it out--for the moment I can't tell.... Let's

see! That was five years ago--in London, as I told you. I had been to

a party--men and women--and the atmosphere had been rather depressed.

On leaving the place, I joined the first man who gave me a chance to

unburden myself. We were _en rapport_ at once, and our chat developed

into one of those endless sidewalk conversations, during which he let

me have his entire history--having first found out that I came from his

own district.

BARONESS. Then he is alive?...

HUSBAND. He was not killed in the war--that much is certain--because

he was taken prisoner. Then he fell in love with the mayor's daughter,

ran away with her to England, was deserted by his fair lady, and began

to gamble--with constant bad luck. When we separated in the morning

hours, he gave me the impression of being doomed. He made me promise

that if chance should ever put you in my way after a year had gone by,

and provided that he had not in the meantime communicated with me by

advertisement in a newspaper I am always reading, I was to consider

him dead. And when I met you, I was to kiss you on the hand, and your

daughter on the brow, saying on his behalf: "Forgive!"

_As he kisses the hand of the_ BARONESS, ROSE _appears on the

veranda, outside the open door, and watches them with evident

excitement_.

BARONESS. [_Agitated_] Then he is dead?

HUSBAND. Yes, and I should have given you his message a little more

promptly, if I had not long ago forgotten the man's name as well as

the man himself. [_The_ BARONESS _is pulling at her handkerchief,

apparently unable to decide what to say or do_] Do you feel better now?

BARONESS. Yes, in a way, but all hope is gone, too.

HUSBAND. The hope of suffering those sweet torments again....

BARONESS. Besides my girl, I had nothing to interest me but my

anxiety.... How strange it is that even suffering can be missed!

HUSBAND. You'll have to pardon me, but I do think that you miss your

jealousy more than your lost husband.

BARONESS. Perhaps--because my jealousy was the invisible tie connecting

me with that image of my dreams.... And now, when I have nothing left

[_She takes hold of his hand_] You, who have brought me his last

message--you, who are a living reminder of him, and who have suffered

like me....

HUSBAND. [_Becomes restless, rises and looks at his watch_] Pardon me,

but I have to take the next train--really, I must!

BARONESS. I was going to ask you not to do so. Why should you go? Don't

you feel at home here?

ROSE _disappears from the veranda_.

HUSBAND. Your house has brought me some of the best hours I have

experienced during these stormy years, and I leave you with the

greatest regret--but I must Baroness. On account of what happened last

night?

HUSBAND. Not that alone--it was merely the last straw.... And now I

must pack, if you'll pardon me.

[_He turns his attention to the travelling-bag again_.

BARONESS. If your decision is irrevocable.... won't you let me help

you, as no one else is doing so?

HUSBAND. I thank you ever so much, my dear Baroness, but I am almost

done.... And I shall ask you to make our leave-taking less painful by

making it short.... In the midst of all trouble, your tender cares have

been a sweet consolation to me, and I find it almost as painful to

part from you as_--[The_ BARONESS _looks deeply moved_]--from a good

mother. I have read compassion in your glances, even when discretion

compelled you to remain silent, and I have thought at times that your

presence tended to improve my domestic happiness--as your age permitted

you to say things that a younger woman would not like to hear from one

of her own generation....

BARONESS. [_With some hesitation_] You must forgive me for saying that

your wife is no longer young....

HUSBAND. In my eyes she is.

BARONESS. But not in the eyes of the world.

HUSBAND. So much the better, although, on the other hand, I find her

coquetry the more disgusting the less her attractions correspond to her

pretensions--and if a moment comes when they begin to laugh at her....

BARONESS. They are doing so already.

HUSBAND. Really? Poor Olga! [_He looks thoughtful; then, as a single

stroke of a bell is heard from the church tower outside, he pulls

himself together_] The clock struck. I must leave in half an hour.

BARONESS. But you cannot leave without your breakfast.

HUSBAND. I am not hungry. As always, when starting on a journey, I am

so excited that my nerves tremble like telephone wires in very cold

weather....

BARONESS. Then I'll make you a cup of coffee. You'll let me do that,

won't you? And I'll send up the maid to help you pack.

HUSBAND. Your kindness is so great, Baroness, that I fear being tempted

into weaknesses that I should have to regret later on.

BARONESS. You would never regret following my advice--if you only

would! [_She goes out_.

_The_ HUSBAND _remains alone for a few moments. Then_ ROSE

_enters from the rear_ with a basketful of roses.

HUSBAND. Good morning, Miss Rose. What's the matter?

ROSE. Why?

HUSBAND. Why.... Because you have your head wrapped up like that.

ROSE. [_Tearing off the scarf and hiding it within her dress_] There is

nothing the matter with me. I am perfectly well. Are you going away?

HUSBAND. Yes, I am.

_The_ MAID _enters_.

ROSE. What do you want?

MAID. The Baroness said I should help Mr. Brunner to pack.

ROSE. It isn't necessary. You can go!

_The_ MAID _hesitates_.

ROSE. Go, I tell you!

_The_ MAID _goes out_.

HUSBAND. Isn't that rather impolite to me, Miss Rose?

ROSE. No, it is not. I wanted to help you myself. But you are impolite

when you run away from your promise to help me with the flowers for

to-morrow's festival. Not that I care a bit--as I am not going to the

festival to-morrow, because--I don't know where I may be to-morrow.

HUSBAND. What does that mean?

ROSE. Can't I help you with something, Mr. Axel? Won't you let me brush

your hat?

[_She picks up his hat and begins to brush it_.

HUSBAND. No, I can't let you do that, Miss Rose.

[_He tries to take the hat away from her_.

ROSE. Let me alone! [_She puts her fingers into the hole on her sleeve

and tears it open_] There, now! You tore my dress!

HUSBAND. You are so peculiar to-day, Miss Rose, and I think your

restiveness is troubling your mother.

ROSE. Well, what do I care? I am glad if it troubles her, although I

suppose that will hurt _you_. But I don't care any more for you than

I care for the cat in the kitchen or the rats in the cellar. And if I

were your wife, I should despise you, and go so far away that you could

never find me again!--You should be ashamed of kissing another woman!

Shame on you!

HUSBAND. Oh, you saw me kissing your mother's hand, did you? Then

I must tell you that it was nothing but a final greeting from your

father, whom I met abroad after you had seen him for the last time. And

I have a greeting for you, too....

_He goes to_ ROSE _and puts his hands about her head in order

to kiss her brow, but_ ROSE _throws her head back so that

her lips meet his. At that moment the_ WIFE _appears on the

veranda, shrinks back at what she sees and disappears again_.

HUSBAND. My dear child, I meant only to give you an innocent kiss on

the brow.

ROSE. Innocent? Ha-ha! Yes, very innocent!--And you believe those

fairy-tales mother tells about father, who died several years ago! That

was a man, I tell you, who knew how to love, and who dared to make

love! He didn't tremble at the thought of a kiss, and he didn't wait

until he was asked! If you won't believe me, come with me into the

attic, and I'll let you read the letters he wrote to his mistresses....

Come! [_She opens the papered door, so that the stairs leading to the

attic become visible_] Ha-ha-ha! You're afraid that I am going to

seduce you, and you look awfully surprised ... surprised because a

girl like me, who has been a woman for three years, knows that there

is nothing innocent about love! Do you imagine that I think children

are born through the ear? Now I can see that you despise me, but you

shouldn't do that, for I am neither worse nor better than anybody

else.... I am like this!

HUSBAND. Go and change your dress before your mother comes, Miss Rose.

ROSE. Do you think I have such ugly arms? Or don't you dare to look at

them?--Now I think I know why why your wife why you are so jealous of

your wife!

HUSBAND. Well, if that isn't the limit!

ROSE. Look at him blush! On my behalf, or on your own? Do you know how

many times I have been in love?

HUSBAND. Never!

ROSE. Never with a bashful fellow like you!--Tell me, does that make

you despise me again?

HUSBAND. A little!--Take care of your heart, and don't put it where the

birds can pick at it, and where it gets--dirty. You call yourself a

woman, but you are a very young woman--a girl, in other words....

ROSE. And for that reason just for that reason.... But I can become a

woman....

HUSBAND. Until you have--I think we had better postpone conversations

of this kind. Shake hands on that, Miss Rose!

ROSE. [_With tears of anger_] Never! Never! Oh, you!

HUSBAND. Are we not going to part as friends--we who have had so many

pleasant days together during the gloomy winter and the slow spring?

WIFE. [_Enters, carrying a tray with the coffee things on it; she seems

embarrassed and pretends not to notice_ ROSE] I thought you might have

time to drink a nice cup of coffee before you leave. [ROSE _tries to

take the tray away from her_] No, my little girl, I can attend to this

myself.

HUSBAND. [_Watching his wife in a questioning and somewhat ironic

manner_] That was an excellent idea of yours....

WIFE. [_Evading his glance_] I am glad ... that....

ROSE. Perhaps I had better say good-bye now--to Mr. Brunner....

HUSBAND. So you mean to desert me now, Miss Rose....

ROSE. I suppose I must ... because ... your wife is angry with me.

WIFE. I? Why in the world....

ROSE. You promised to try on my dress....

WIFE. Not at this time, child. You can see that I have other things to

do now. Or perhaps you wish to keep my husband company while I get the

dress ready?

HUSBAND. Olga!

WIFE. What is it?

ROSE _puts her fingers into her mouth, looking at once

embarrassed and angry_.

WIFE. You had better dress decently, my dear young lady, if you are to

go with us to the train.

ROSE _remains as before_.

WIFE. And suppose you take your flowers with you, if there is to be any

demonstration....

HUSBAND. That's cruel, Olga!

ROSE. [_Dropping a curtsey_] Good-bye, Mr. Brunner.

HUSBAND. [_Shaking hands with her_] Good-bye, Miss Rose. I hope you

will be happy, and that you will be a big girl soon-a very big girl.

ROSE. [_Picking up her flowers_] Good-bye, Mrs. Brunner. [_As she gets

no answer_] Good-bye! [_She runs out_.

HUSBAND _and_ WIFE _look equally embarrassed; she tries to

avoid looking him in the face_.

WIFE. Can I be of any help?

HUSBAND. No, thank you, I am practically done.

WIFE. And there are so many others to help you.

HUSBAND. Let me have a look at you!

[_He tries to take hold of her head_.

WIFE. [_Escaping him_] No, leave me alone.

HUSBAND. What is it?

WIFE. Perhaps you think that I am--that I am jealous?

HUSBAND. I think so when you say it, but I could never have believed it

before.

WIFE. Of a schoolgirl like that--ugh!

HUSBAND. The character of the object seems immaterial in cases of this

kind. I felt jealous of a hired man You saw, then, that....

WIFE. That you kissed her!

HUSBAND. No, it was she who kissed me.

WIFE. How shameless! But minxes like her are regular apes!

HUSBAND. Yes, they take after the grown-up people.

WIFE. You seem to be pleased by her attentions anyhow.

HUSBAND. Little used as I am to such attentions....

WIFE. On the part of young ladies, perhaps--but you seem less timid

with the old ones....

HUSBAND. You saw that, too, did you?

WIFE. No, but Rose told me. Apparently you are quite a lady-killer.

HUSBAND. So it seems. It's too bad that I can't profit by it.

WIFE. You'll soon be free to choose a younger and prettier wife.

HUSBAND. I am not aware of any such freedom.

WIFE. Now when I am old and ugly!

HUSBAND. I can't make out what has happened. Let me have another look

at you. [_He comes close to her_.

WIFE. [_Hiding her face at his bosom_] You mustn't look at me!

HUSBAND. What in the world does this mean? You are not jealous of a

little schoolgirl or an old widow....

WIFE. I have broken--one of my front teeth. Please don't look at me!

HUSBAND. Oh, you child!--With pain comes the first tooth, and with pain

the first one goes.

WIFE. And now you'll leave me, of course?

HUSBAND. Not on your life! [_Closing the bag with a snap_] To-morrow

we'll start for Augsburg to get you a new tooth of gold.

WIFE. But we'll never come back here.

HUSBAND. Not if you say so.

WIFE. And now your fears are gone?

HUSBAND. Yes--for another week.

BARONESS. [_Enters carrying a tray; looks very embarrassed at seeing

them together_] Excuse me, but I thought....

HUSBAND. Thank you, Baroness, I have had coffee already, but for your

sake I'll have another cup. And if you--[ROSE, _dressed in white,

appears in the doorway at that moment_] and Miss Rose care to keep us

company, we have no objection. On the contrary, nothing could please

us better, as my wife and I are leaving on the first train to-morrow

morning.

_Curtain_.

GUSTAVUS VASA

(GUSTAF VASA)

HISTORIC DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS

1899

CHARACTERS

GUSTAVUS I, _King of Sweden_

MARGARET LEIJONHUFVUD (_Lion-Head_), _his second Queen_

PRINCE ERIC, _the only son of the King's first marriage_

PRINCE JOHAN, _eldest son of the King's second marriage_

EBBA CARLSDAUGHTER, _a nun at the convent of Vreta and

mother-in-law of the King_

MASTER OLAVUS PETRI, _commonly known as Master Olof_

CHRISTINE, _his wife_

REGINALD, _their son_

HERMAN ISRAEL, a _councillor of the free city of Luebeck_

JACOB ISRAEL, _his son_

MONS NILSSON OF ASPEBODA }

ANDERS PERSSON OF RANKHYTTAN } _free miners of Dalecarlia_

INGHEL HANSSON }

NILS OF SÖDERBY }

JORGHEN PERSSON, _secretary to_ PRINCE ERIC

MASTER STIG, _pastor at Copperberg (Falun), Dalecarlia_

MONS NILSSON'S WIFE

BARBRO, _his daughter_

AGDA, a _barmaid_

KARIN MONSDAUGHTER, a _flower girl_

MARCUS }

DAVID } _Hanseatic clerks_

ENGELBRECHT, a _free miner who was one of the Dalecarlian

ski-runners that overtook_ GUSTAVUS VASA _on his flight to

Norway and brought him back to head the Dalecarlian revolt

against King Christian II of Denmark_

CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD

A COURTIER

A MESSENGER

TWO BEGGARS

SCENARIO

ACT I. THE HOUSE OF MONS NILSSON AT COPPERBERG

ACT II. SCENE I. THE HANSEATIC OFFICE AT STOCKHOLM

SCENE II. THE BLUE DOVE INN

ACT III. THE KING'S STUDY

ACT IV. SCENE I. SQUARE IN FRONT OF THE HANSEATIC OFFICE

SCENE II. THE STUDY OF MASTER OLAVUS

ACT V. THE GARDEN TERRACE IN FRONT OF THE ROYAL PALACE

AT STOCKHOLM

ACT I

_The main living-room in_ MONS NILSSON'S _house at Copperberg

(which is the old name of the present city of Falun in

Dalecarlia)._

_There is a door in the rear, with a window on either side,

through which are visible small city houses with snow-covered

roofs and the flames belching from many blast-furnaces. A large

open fireplace with mantelpiece occupies the center of the

right wall. A fine log fire is going in the fireplace. On the

same side, nearer the footlights, is a door_.

_A long tablefills the middle of the floor. At its farther

end stands an armchair with cushions on the seat and bright

textiles draped over the back and the arm supports. Wooden

benches run along the two long sides of the table_.

_Wooden seats are placed along the left wall_.

_Above the wainscotting of the walls appear large, simple

frescoes depicting the adventures of_ GUSTAVUS VASA _in

Dalecarlia (at the beginning of the war of liberation). The one

at the left of the rear door shows him at the home of Master

John at Svärdsjö; the one at the right pictures him threshing

in the barn of_ ANDERS PERSSON OF RANKHYTTAN _(while Danish

soldiers are searching the place for him)_.

_The ringing of a church-bell is heard from the outside as the

curtain rises_.

MONS NILSSON _is seated at the table, writing. His_ WIFE _is

arranging tankards and beakers of silver on the mantelshelf_.

MONS. That's four o'clock, is it not?

WIFE. Of course.

MONS. Sounds like fire.

WIFE. Is that any special sound?

MONS. Yes, it sounds like "help-help, help-help!"

WIFE. That's the way it has sounded ever since the King carried off our

bells, it seems to me.

MONS. Be quiet! And don't talk behind anybody's back. The King will

soon be here himself.

WIFE. Has the King sent word of his visit, as you have put everything

in order to receive him?

MONS. Not exactly, but when he sends word that he is coming to

Copperberg, it is not to be expected that he will pass by his friend

Mons Nilsson, who helped him in the days of trial, and who has stood by

him both against Master Knut and Peder the Chancellor, not to speak of

the False Sture.[1] And he acted as godfather for my girl besides.

WIFE. That was a good while ago; but when the King's bailiff came here

to get the bells two years ago, you helped to kill him.

MONS. That was two years ago, and I guess he was set on having our

heads at that time. But just then King Christian broke into the country

from Norway. Our own King turned meek as a lamb at once, and when he

asked us for help, we Dalecarlians stood by him like one man, and gave

him all the help he wanted. So I think we can call it even.

WIFE. So _you_ think, but the King never calls it even except when it

is to his own advantage.

MONS. Perhaps not. But as long as Christian still is free, he will not

dare to break with us.

WIFE. Well, is Christian still free?

MONS. I have heard nothing to the contrary. Anyhow, the King owes us

such a lot of money that, leaving old friendship aside....

WIFE. God bless you! And I hope He will protect you from the friend

that is always breaking his word and safe-conduct!

MONS. Don't open the old wounds, but let bygones be bygones.

WIFE. If you do that, and he won't, you can hardly call it a

reconciliation. Take care!

MONS. The sound of that bell is really dreadful!

WIFE. So it is to my ears, because it always reminds me of the big

Mary, which the bailiff took away. Do you remember when the Mary was

cast out of the best refined copper and the whole town brought milk and

cream to give the clay of the form more firmness--and then, when the

melt was ready, we threw in one-half of our table silver to improve the

tone? It was baptised at Candlemas and rung for the first time at the

burial of my father.... And then it went to Herman Israel at Luebeck,

who made coin out of it.

MONS. All that is perfectly true, but now it _must_ be forgotten--or we

shall never have peace.

BARBRO, _their daughter, enters with a basket full of finely chopped

spruce branches; she is dressed in black and white, and so are several

younger children who follow her, also carrying baskets. All of them

begin to spread the chopped spruce over the floor_.

WIFE. [_To_ MONS] Is there to be a funeral?

MONS. No, but not being the season, we couldn't get any leaves.

WIFE. I think the children might put off their mourning at least.

MONS. No, that's just what they should not do, because when the King

asks whom they are mourning--well, what are you to answer, Barbro?

BARBRO. "We mourn our beloved teacher, Pastor John at Svärdsjö."

MONS. And what are you to say, if the King asks you why?

BARBRO. "Because he was an early friend of King Gustavus and saved his

precious life for our country."

MONS. What year was that?

BARBRO. "The very year when Christian the Tyrant cut the head off the

Swedish nobility."[2]

MONS. That's right, children. And over there you see the picture of

Master John when he is holding the towel for the outlaw who has been

threshing in the barn. [_To his_ WIFE] On the other hand, it is not

necessary to tell the children that the King took his friend's head two

years ago.

WIFE. Have you really that much sense left?--Do you think the King

likes any reminder of a deed that has brought him so little honour?

MONS. Let him like it or dislike it, he'll have to swallow it. It was

an ugly deed, and Master John was a saint and a martyr, who died for

his faith--the faith of his childhood, which he would not forswear.

BARBRO. [_Standing by the armchair at the end of the table_] Is the

King to sit here?

MONS. Yes, child, that's where the marvellous man of God is to sit

when he visits his friend Mons Nilsson of Aspeboda. His whole life is

like a miracle story, children: how the Lord guided him out of a Danish

prison up to Dalecarlia, and how, after many hardships, he finally

freed his country from oppression. Those pictures on the walls tell you

the whole story, down to the moment when the ski-runner overtook him at

Sälen, close by the Norwegian border-line.

BARBRO. [_Looking at the picture just indicated_] Is it true, father,

that the ski-runner was named Engelbrecht, like the great chieftain we

had in the past century?

MONS. Yes, it's true, child, and we used to speak of it as "the finger

of God," but now we call it mere superstition.

WIFE. Don't put that sort of thing into the children's heads!

MONS. Oh, keep quiet! I teach the children nothing but what is right

and proper.--And bear in mind, little girls, that, no matter what you

may hear, you must never believe or say anything bad of the King. Earth

bears no heavier burden than a thankless man. And for that reason you

must sing the ballad of King Gustav when he comes here. Do you still

remember it?

BARBRO. Oh, yes!

MONS. Let me hear you read it then.

BARBRO. [_Reciting_],

"King Gustav, he rode his trusty steed

Across the battle-field;

Have thanks, my brave Dalecarlians,

For your true loyalty."

CHILDREN. [_In chorus_],

"Have thanks, my brave Dalecarlians,

For your true loyalty!"

BARBRO.

"You have by my side been fighting

Like faithful Swedish men.

If God will spare my life-blood,

I'll do you good in stead."

CHILDREN.

"If God will spare my life-blood,

I'll do you good in stead!"

MONS. That's good, children. Go back to your own room now, and be ready

when the time comes.

BARBRO _and the_ CHILDREN. [_As they start to go out to the right_] But

won't the King frighten us?

MONS. Oh, he is not at all dangerous, and he is very fond of children.

Besides, he is your godfather, Barbro.

BARBRO _and the_ CHILDREN _leave the room_.

WIFE. Do you know what you are doing?

MONS. Hope so! Of course, I know what you mean?

WIFE. What do I mean?

MONS. That I should take your advice. So I have done in the past, and

it has ended badly every time.

WIFE. Try it once more!

MONS. No!

WIFE. Then--may the will of God be done! [_Pause_,

MONS. That's the longest afternoon I have ever lived through!--And my

friends don't seem to be coming.

WIFE. Yes, I think I hear them outside.

MONS. Well, you were right that time!

_The stamping of feet is heard from the hallway outside_. _Then

enter_: ANDERS PERSSON OF RANKHYTTAN, NILS SÖDERBY, INGHEL

HANSSON, _and_ MASTER STIG [_in clerical costume_]. _Each one

says as he comes into the room_: "Good evening, everybody!"

MONS. [_Shaking hands with them_] God be with you, Anders Persson! God

be with you, Nils Söderby! God be with you, Inghel Hansson! God be with

you, Master Stig! Come forward and be seated.

_All seat themselves at the long table_.

ANDERS. You are getting ready, I see.

MONS. So we are.--And where's the King?

ANDERS. The other side of the hill, says the ski-runner that just

returned.

MONS. As near as that?--And what errand is supposed to bring him here?

ANDERS. Ask Nils of Söderby.

NILS. They say he is headed for Norway to fight Christian.

INGHEL. There are others who think that he is coming to thank us

Dalecarlians for the good help rendered in his last fight.

STIG. That would not be like him.

ANDERS. To thank anybody--no, indeed!

MONS. Do you think there is any cause for fear?

NILS. Not while Christian is still free.

INGHEL. It's queer that we should have to look to Christian for safety.

STIG. We knew what we had, but not what we might get. Christian took

the heads of the noble lords and left the people alone. This one leaves

the lords alone and rides roughshod over the people. Who should be

called a tyrant?

MONS. Be quiet now!

ANDERS. In other words, the last war of liberation was fought _against_

our liberator. Did we know at all what we were doing at that time?

INGHEL. We were to clear the country of the Danes; and the first man to

raise his hand for the King against the Danes in our parts was Rasmus

Dane, who killed Nils Westgoth. That was a strange beginning....

NILS. A strange beginning, indeed, but just like the ending. [_To_

MONS'S WIFE] Look out for the silver, goodwife!

_She turns and looks inquiringly at him_.

NILS. The King is coming.

MONS. In the name of the Lord, be quiet! That kind of talk will bring

no peace.--All that you say is true, of course, but what has happened

was the will of Providence--

STIG. Which let the children have their will in order that they should

see their own folly.

ANDERS. Are you quite sure that the King will visit you, Mons Nilsson?

MONS. What a question!

ANDERS. Remember Master John!

MONS. Let us forget! Everything must be forgotten.

ANDERS. No wonder if you and NILS want to forget that you burned the

King's house at Hedemora and looted Räfvelstad two years ago! But _he_

will never forget it.

_The roll of muffled drums is heard from the outside_.

ALL. [_Leaping to their feet_] What's that?

MONS. Don't you know the hornet that buzzes before it stings?

ANDERS. That's the kind of noise he made that Ash Wednesday at Tuna

Flat.

INGHEL. Don't mention that blood-bath, or I can't control myself.

[_Passionately_] Don't talk of it!

NILS. Hear him spinning, spinning like a cat! No, don't trust him!

_The roll of the drums comes nearer_.

STIG. Might it not be wise for you, as personal friends of the King, to

meet him and bid the stem master welcome?

MONS. I wonder. Then he might not come here afterward....

WIFE. Stay, Mons! Stay where you are!

MONS. Oh, the place smells of spruce, and the drums are flattened

as for a funeral. [_Somebody raps three times at the door from the

outside_] Who's that?

[_He goes to the door and opens it_.

WIFE. [_To_ Master Stig _as she leaves the room by the door_ _at__the

right_] Pray for us!

MASTER OLAVUS _and_ HERMAN ISRAEL _enter_.

MONS. Who is doing me the honour?

OLAVUS. I am the acting secretary of his Highness, the King. And this

is the venerable representative of the free city of Luebeck.

MONS. Come in, my good sirs, and--let us hear the news!

OLAVUS. The King is here and has pitched his camp on Falu Flat.

Personally he has taken his abode at the Gildhall of Saint Jorghen.

MONS. What is the errand that has made the King cross Långhed Forest

and Brunbeck Ford without permission and safe-conduct?[3]

OLAVUS. He hasn't told.

MONS. Then I had better go and ask him.

OLAVUS. With your leave, this is the message our gracious lord, the

King, sends you through us: "Greetings to the goodly miners of the

Copperberg, and let every man stay in his own house." If he desires

speech with any one, that one will be called.

MONS. What is the meaning of it?

OLAVUS. [_Seating himself_] I don't know. [_Pause_.

ANDERS. Has the Danish war come to an end, sir?

OLAVUS. I don't know.

ANDERS. Do you know with whom you are talking?

OLAVUS. No, I don't.

ANDERS. I am Anders Persson of Rankhyttan. Have you ever heard that

name before?

OLAVUS. Yes--it's a good name.

HERMAN ISRAEL _has in the meantime been studying the wall

paintings and the silver on the mantelpiece. He wears a pair of

large, horn-rimmed eye-glasses. At last he seats himself in the

armchair at the end of the table_.

MONS. [_Indicating_ ISRAEL _to_ OLAVUS] Is that chap from Luebeck a

royal person, too?

OLAVUS. [_In a low voice_] No, he is not, but he is in charge of the

national debt, and we must never forget that our gracious King was able

to free our country of the Danes _only_ with the help of Luebeck.

MONS. With the help of Luebeck _only_? And how about the Dalecarlians?

OLAVUS. Oh, of course, they helped, too.

MONS. Does he speak Swedish?

OLAVUS. I don't think so, but I am not sure of it.

MONS. Is that so?

OLAVUS. We happened to arrive together, but I have not yet spoken to

him.

MONS. Very strange! I suppose the King has sent him?

OLAVUS. Probably.

MONS. Perhaps he is the fellow who buys up the bells?

OLAVUS. Perhaps.

MONS. And the church silver?

OLAVUS. And the church silver, too!

MONS. What was his name again?

OLAVUS. Herman Israel.

MONS. Oh, Israel!

_He whispers to_ ANDERS PERSSON, _who in turn whispers to the

rest_.

_A rap at the door is heard_. MASTER OLAVUS _gets up quickly

and opens the door_.

_A_ MESSENGER _in full armour enters, whispers something to_

MASTER OLAVUS, _and leaves again_.

OLAVUS. Our gracious lord, the King, requests Inghel Hansson to meet

him at Saint Jorghen's Gild.

INGHEL. [_Rising_] Well, well, am I to be the first?

NILS. The oldest first.

MONS. Stand up for yourself, Inghel, and tell the truth. The King is a

gracious gentleman who won't mind a plain word in proper time.

INGHEL. Don't you worry. I have said my say to kings before now. [_He

goes out_.

OLAVUS. Well, Nils, how is the mining nowadays?

NILS. Not bad, thank you. The last fall flood left a little water in

the mine, but otherwise we have nothing to complain of.

OLAVUS. Times are good, then?

NILS. Well, you might say so.... Hm! Good times will mean better taxes,

I suppose?

OLAVUS. I know nothing about the taxes. [_Pause; then to_ ANDERS

PERSSON] And how about the crops? I hear you have plenty of tilled

ground, too.

ANDERS. Oh, yes, and plenty of cattle in the pastures, too.

OLAVUS. Old Dalecarlia is a pretty good country, is it not?

MONS. [_Giving_ ANDERS _a poke with his elbow_] Yes, everything is fat

here--dripping with fat, so that one can eat the bark off the trees

even.

OLAVUS. Yes, they have told me that you have to eat bark and chew

resin now and then. Is that a common thing or does it happen only once

in a while?

NILS. When the famine comes, you have to eat what you can get.

OLAVUS. [_To_ MASTER STIG, _who has been keeping in the background_]

There is something you should know, Master Stig. How was it during the

last famine, when the King sent grain to be distributed here: did it go

to those who needed it?

STIG. Yes, it did, although there was not enough of it.

OLAVUS. [_To_ ANDERS] Was there not enough of it?

ANDERS. That depends on what you mean by "enough."

OLAVUS. [_To_ MONS] Do you know what is meant by "enough," Mons Nilsson?

MONS. Oh, well, everybody knows that.

OLAVUS. [_To_ STIG] As we now know what is meant by "enough," I ask

you, Master Stig Larsson, if anybody perished from hunger during the

last famine?

STIG. Man doth not live by bread only....

OLAVUS. There you spoke a true word, Master Stig, but....

_A rap on the door is heard_. MASTER OLAVUS _opens. The same_

MESSENGER _appears, whispers to him, and leaves again_.

OLAVUS. The King requests Nils Söderby to meet him at Saint Jorghen's

Gildhall.

NILS. Won't Inghel Hansson come back first?

OLAVUS. I don't know.

NILS. Well, nobody is afraid here, and....

OLAVUS. What have you to be afraid of?

NILS. Nothing! [_To his friends_] The big bell at Mora has not been

taken out of Siljan valley yet, Anders Persson and Mons Nilsson. That's

a devil of a bell, and when it begins to tinkle, they can hear it way

over in Norway, and fourteen thousand men stand like one!

OLAVUS. I don't understand what you mean.

NILS. [_Shaking hands with_ ANDERS _and_ MONS] But you two understand!

God bless you and defend you!

MONS. What do you mean?

ANDERS. What are you thinking of, Nils?

NILS. Oh, my thoughts are running so fast that I can't keep up with

them. But one thing I am sure of: that it's going hard with Inghel

Hansson. [_He goes out_.

OLAVUS. Is this sulphur smoke always hanging over the place?

MONS. Mostly when the wind is in the east.

MONS _and_ ANDERS _withdraw to the left corner of the room

and sit down there. Master Stig shows plainly that he is much

alarmed_.

OLAVUS. Is it the quartz or the pyrites that make the worst smoke?

ANDERS. Why do you ask?

OLAVUS. That's a poor answer!

MONS. May I ask you in return whether King Christian still is free?

OLAVUS. [_Looking hard at him_] Do you put your trust in the enemy?

[_Pause_] What kind of a man is Nils of Söderby?

MONS. His friends think him better and his enemies worse than anybody

else.

OLAVUS. What kind of a bell in the Siljan valley was that you spoke of?

MONS. It's the largest one in all Dalecarlia.

OLAVUS. Have you many bells of that kind?

ANDERS. Of the kind that calls the people to arms we have still a lot.

MONS _pokes him warningly_.

OLAVUS. I am glad to hear it, and I am sure it will please his Highness

still more.--Are the people attending church diligently, Master Stig?

STIG. I can't say that they are.

OLAVUS. Are the priests bad, or is the pure word of God not preached

here?

STIG. There are no bad priests here, and nothing but the pure word of

God is preached!

OLAVUS. That's the best thing I have heard yet! Nothing but the pure

word of God, you say! [_Pause_] Nils intimated a while ago that

fourteen thousand men will take up arms when you ring the big bell at

Mora. That was mere boasting, I suppose?

MONS. Oh, if you ring it the right way, I think sixteen thousand will

come. What do you say, Anders Persson?

ANDERS. Sixteen, you say? I should say eighteen!

OLAVUS. Fine! Then we shall ring it the right way when the Dane comes

next time. Only seven thousand answered the last call--to fight the

_enemies_ of our country.

MONS. [_To_ ANDERS] That fellow is dangerous. We had better keep quiet

after this.

STIG. [_To_ OLAVUS] Why has Inghel Hansson not come back?

OLAVUS. I don't know.

STIG. Then I'll go and find out.

_He goes to the door and opens it, but is stopped by the_

MESSENGER, _who is now accompanied by several pike-men_.

MASTER OLAVUS _meets the_ MESSENGER, _who whispers to him_.

OLAVUS. Master Stig Larsson is commanded before the King at once!

STIG. Commanded? Who commands here?

OLAVUS. The King.

MONS. [_Leaping to his feet_] Treachery!

OLAVUS. Exactly: treachery and traitors!--If you don't go at once,

Master Stig, you'll ride bareback!

STIG. To hell!

OLAVUS. Yes, _to_ hell!--Away!

MONS _and_ ANDERS _rise and start for the door_.

MONS. Do you know who I am--that I am a free miner and a friend of the

King?

OLAVUS. Be seated then, and keep your peace. If you are a friend of

the King, there has been a mistake. Sit down, Anders Persson and Mons

Nilsson! No harm will befall you or anybody else who is innocent.

Let Master Stig go, and don't get excited. Where does the thought of

violence come from, if not from your own bad conscience?

STIG. That's true. We have done nothing wrong, and no one has

threatened us.--Be quiet, friends. I shall soon be back. [_He goes out_.

MONS. That's right!

OLAVUS. Throw a stick at the pack, and the one that is hit will yelp.

ANDERS. [_To_ MONS] That was stupid of us! Let us keep calm! [_Aloud_]

You see, doctor, one gets suspicious as one grows old, particularly

after having seen so many broken words and promises....

OLAVUS. I understand. In these days, when people change masters as

the snake changes its skin, a certain instability of mind is easily

produced. In young men it may be pardonable, but it is absolutely

unpardonable in old and experienced persons.

MONS. As far as age is concerned, there is nothing to say about the

King, who still is in his best years....

OLAVUS. And for that reason pardonable....

MONS. [_To_ ANDERS] I think he must be the devil himself!

ANDERS. [_To_ OLAVUS] How long are we to wait here? And what are we to

wait for?

OLAVUS. The King's commands, as you ought to know.

MONS. Are we regarded as prisoners, then?

OLAVUS. By no means, but it is not wise to venture out for a while yet.

MONS _and_ ANDERS _move from one chair to another and give

other evidence of agitation_.

MONS. Some great evil is afoot. I can feel it within me.

ANDERS. It must be very hot in here.... I am sweating. Would you like a

glass of beer, doctor?

OLAVUS. No, thank you.

ANDERS. Or a glass of wine?

OLAVUS. Not for me, thanks!

MONS. But it's real hock.

MASTER OLAVUS _shakes his head. At that moment drum-beats are

heard outside_.

ANDERS. [_Beyond himself_] In the name of Christ, will this never come

to an end?

OLAVUS. [_Rising_] Yes, this is the end!

_He goes to the door and opens it_.

_The_ MESSENGER _enters and throws on the table the

bloodstained coats of_ INGHEL HANSSON, NILS OF SÖDERBY, _and_

MASTER STIG.

OLAVUS. Look!

MONS _and_ ANDERS. Another blood-bath!

MONS. Without trial or hearing!

OLAVUS. The trial took place two years age, and sentence was passed.

But the King put mercy above justice and let the traitors remain

at large to see whether their repentance was seriously meant. When

he learned that they remained incorrigible and went on with their

rebellious talk as before, he decided to execute the sentences. That's

how the matter looks when presented truthfully.

MONS. And yet there was a lot of talk about everything being forgiven

and forgotten....

OLAVUS. So it was, provided the same offence was not repeated. But it

was repeated, and what might have been forgotten was again remembered.

All that is clear as logic. [_To_ HERMAN ISRAEL] These two trustworthy

men.... [_To_ MONS _and_ ANDERS] You are trustworthy, are you not?

MONS _and_ ANDERS. Hope so!

OLAVUS. Answer yes or no! Are you trustworthy?

MONS _and_ ANDERS. Yes!

OLAVUS. [_To_ ISRAEL] In the presence of you as my witness, syndic,

these two trustworthy men have given a true report of conditions in

Dalecarlia. They have unanimously assured us that the mines are being

worked profitably; that agriculture and cattle-breeding prosper no

less than the mining; that famines occur but rarely, and that, during

the last one, our gracious King distributed grain in quantities not

insufficient, which went to those that really were in need. These

trustworthy and upright miners have also confirmed the following

facts: that bells to summon the congregations still remain in all the

churches; that no bad priests are spreading devices of men, and that

nothing is preached here but the pure word of God. You have likewise

heard them say, syndic, that the province of Dalecarlia can raise from

sixteen to eighteen thousand men capable of bearing arms--the figures

vary as their courage falls or rises. Being in charge of the current

debt, and for that reason entitled to know the actual _status_ of the

country, you have now heard the people declare with their own lips,

that all the Dalecarlian grievances are unwarranted, and that those who

have spread reports to the contrary are traitors and liars.

MONS. _Veto!_

ANDERS. I deny it!

OLAVUS. If you deny your own words, then you are liars twice over!

MONS. He is drawing the noose tighter! Better keep silent!

ANDERS. No, I most speak. [_To_ OLAVUS] I want to know what our fate is

to be.

OLAVUS. So you shall. Your fate is in your own hands. You are invited

to Stockholm and given full safe-conduct. You can travel freely by

yourselves. This is granted you as old friends of the King, to whom he

acknowledges a great debt of gratitude.

MONS. More guile!

OLAVUS. No guile at all. Here is the King's safe-conduct, signed by his

own hand.

ANDERS. We know all about his safe-conducts!

MONS. [_To_ ANDERS] We must consent and submit in order to gain time!

[_To_ OLAVUS] Will you let us go into the next room and talk the matter

over?

OLAVUS. You can now go wherever you want--except to the King.

MONS _and_ ANDERS _go toward the left_.

MONS. [_As he opens the door_] We'll bring you an answer shortly.

OLAVUS. As you please, and when you please.

MONS _and_ ANDERS _go out_.

OLAVUS. [_To_ ISRAEL] A stiff-necked people, true as gold, but full of

distrust.

ISRAEL. A very fine people.

OLAVUS. Rather stupid, however. Did you notice how I trapped them?

ISRAEL. That was good work. How did you learn to do it?

OLAVUS. By long observation of innumerable human beings I have been led

to conclude at last that vanity the primal sin and mother of all the

vices. To get the truth out of criminals, I have merely to set them

boasting.

ISRAEL. What wisdom! What wisdom! And you are not yet an old man!--But

there are modest people, too, and out of these you cannot get the

truth, according to what you have just said.

OLAVUS. Modest people boast of their modesty, so that is all one.

ISRAEL. [_Looking attentively at him_] If you'll pardon me--Master

Olavus was your name, I think? You cannot be Olavus Petri?

OLAVUS. I am.

ISRAEL. [_Surprised_] Who carried out the Reformation?

OLAVUS. I am that man.

ISRAEL. And who was subsequently tried for high treason on suspicion of

having known about a plot against the King's life?

OLAVUS. Confidences given me under the seal of confession, so that I

had no right to betray them.

ISRAEL. [_Gazing curiously at_ OLAVUS] Hm-hm! [_Pause_] A mysterious

story it was, nevertheless.

OLAVUS. No, I don't think so. Gorius Holst and Hans Bökman were found

guilty. And it was so little of a secret, that the people of Hamburg

heard of the King's murder as an accomplished fact long before the plot

was exposed at Stockholm.

ISRAEL. That is just what I call mysterious, especially as we knew

nothing about it at Luebeck.

OLAVUS. Yes, I call that mysterious, too, because the road to Hamburg

goes through Luebeck as a rule. [ISRAEL _makes no reply_] And it was

rumoured at the time, that Marcus Meyer and Juerghen Wollenweber were

no strangers to the plot.

ISRAEL. I have never heard of it, and I don't believe it. [_Pause;

then, pointing to the blood-stained coats_] Must those things stay here?

OLAVUS. Yes, for the present.

ISRAEL. It seems to me that these royal visits are rather sanguinary

affairs.

OLAVUS. I don't allow myself to pass judgment on the actions of my

King, partly because I am not capable of doing so, and partly because I

know there is a judge above too, who guides his destiny.