ACT III.

_Sitting-room at Rosmershölm. Sun shining outside in the

Garden. Inside REBECCA WEST is watering a geranium with

a small watering-pot. Her crochet antimacassar lies in

the arm-chair. Madam HELSETH is rubbing the chairs with

furniture-polish from a large bottle. Enter ROSMER, with his

hat and stick in his hand. Madam HELSETH corks the bottle

and goes out to the right._

_Rebecca_. Good morning, dear. (_A moment after--crocheting._) Have

you seen Rector KROLL's paper this morning? There's something about

_you_ in it.

_Rosmer_. Oh, indeed? (_Puts down hat and stick, and takes up paper._)

H'm! (_Reads--then walks about the room._) KROLL _has_ made it hot for

me. (_Reads some more._) Oh, this is _too_ bad! REBECCA, they _do_ say

such nasty spiteful things! They actually call me a renegade--and I

can't _think_ why! They _mustn't_ go on like this. All that is good in

human nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent

man like me! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have

been!

_Reb._ Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to

attain--and I wish you may get it!

_Rosmer_. Thanks. I think I shall. (_Happens to look through window,

and jumps._) Ah, no, I shan't--never now. I have just seen--

[Illustration]

_Reb._ _Not_ the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that

White Horse!

_Rosmer_. No--the mill-race, where BEATA--(_Puts on his hat--takes it

off again._) I'm beginning to be haunted by--no, I _don't_ mean the

horse--by a terrible suspicion that BEATA may have been right after

all! Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really

have been in love with you from the first. Tell me _your_ opinion.

_Reb._ (_struggling with herself, and still crocheting._) Oh--I can't

exactly say--such an odd question to ask me!

_Rosmer_ (_shakes his head_). Perhaps; I have no sense of humour--no

respectable Norwegian _has_--and I _do_ want to know--because, you

see, if I _was_ in love with you, it was a _sin_, and if I once

convinced myself of that--

[_Wanders across the room._

_Reb._ (_breaking out_). Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is

your hat, and your stick, too; go and take a walk.

[ROSMER takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes

a walk; presently Madam HELSETH appears, and tells REBECCA

something. REBECCA tells _her_ something. They whisper

together. Madam H. nods, and shows in Rector KROLL, who

keeps his hat in his hand, and sits on a chair._

_Kroll_. I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I

consider you an artful and designing person, but that, on the whole,

considering your birth and moral antecedents, you know--(_nods at

her_)--it is not surprising. (_REBECCA walks about, wringing her

hands_) Why, what _is_ the matter? Did you really not know that you

had no right to your father's name? I'd no _idea_ you would mind my

mentioning such a trifle!

_Reb._ (_breaking out_). I _do_ mind. I am an emancipated enigma,

but I retain a few little prejudices still. I _don't_ like owning

to my real age, and I _do_ prefer to be legitimate. And, after your

information--of which I was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late

Mrs. GAMVIK, never _once_ alluded to it--I feel I must confess

everything. Strong-minded advanced women are like that. Here is

ROSMER. (ROSMER _enters with his hat and stick._) ROSMER, I want to

tell you and Rector KROLL a little story. Let us sit down, dear,

all three of us. (_They sit down, mechanically, on chairs._) A long

time ago, before the play began--(_in a voice scarcely audible_)--in

Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow _do_ happen before

the play begins--

_Rosmer_. But, REBECCA, I _know_ all this. KROLL--(_looks hard at

her_). Perhaps I had better go?

_Reb._ No--I will be short--this was it. I wanted to take my share

in the life of the New Era, and march onward with ROSMER. There

was one dismal, insurmountable barrier--(_to ROSMER, who nods

gravely_)--BEATA! I understood where your deliverance lay--and I

acted. _I_ drove BEATA into the mill-race ... There!

_Rosmer_ (_after a short silence_). H'm! Well, KROLL--(_takes up his

hat_)--if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to

be orthodox once more--after _this_!

_Kroll_ (_severely and impressively, to_ REB.). A nice sort of young

woman _you_ are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at REB._

_Reb._ (_speaks to herself, under her breath_). Now I _have_ done it.

I wonder _why_. (_Pulls bell-rope._) Madam HELSETH, I have just had a

glimpse of two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk.

[_Enter Madam H., with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._

Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 100, March 28, 1891 · 第 17 / 38 题