wood. The mountain rises abruptly behind them. To the left, far
below, an extensive fiord landscape, with high ranges in the
distance, towering one above the other. On the plateau, to the
left, a dead fir-tree with a bench under it. The snow lies deep
upon the terrace._
[_BORKMAN and, after him, ELLA RENTHEIM enter from the right and
wade with difficulty through the snow._
BORKMAN.
[_Stopping at the verge of the steep declivity on the left._] Come here,
Ella, and you shall see.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Coming up to him._] What do you want to show me, John?
BORKMAN.
[_Pointing outwards._] Do you see how free and open the country lies
before us—away to the far horizon?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
We have often sat on this bench before, and looked out into a much, much
further distance.
BORKMAN.
It was a dreamland we then looked out over.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Nodding sadly._] It was the dreamland of our life, yes. And now that
land is buried in snow. And the old tree is dead.
BORKMAN.
[_Not listening to her._] Can you see the smoke of the great steamships
out on the fiord?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
No.
BORKMAN.
I can. They come and they go. They weave a network of fellowship all
round the world. They shed light and warmth over the souls of men in
many thousands of homes. That was what I dreamed of doing.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Softly._] And it remained a dream.
BORKMAN.
It remained a dream, yes. [_Listening._] And hark, down by the river,
dear! The factories are working! _My_ factories! All those that I would
have created! Listen! Do you hear them humming? The night shift is on—so
they are working night and day. Hark! hark! the wheels are whirling and
the bands are flashing—round and round and round. Can’t you hear, Ella?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
No.
BORKMAN.
I can hear it.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Anxiously._] I think you are mistaken, John.
BORKMAN.
[_More and more fired._] Oh, but all these—they are only like the
outworks around the kingdom, I tell you!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
The kingdom, you say? What kingdom?
BORKMAN.
My kingdom, of course! The kingdom I was on the point of conquering when
I—when I died.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Shaken, in a low voice._] Oh, John, John!
BORKMAN.
And now there it lies—defenceless, masterless—exposed to all the robbers
and plunderers. Ella, do you see the mountain chains there—far away?
They soar, they tower aloft, one behind the other! That is my vast, my
infinite, inexhaustible kingdom!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Oh, but there comes an icy blast from that kingdom, John!
BORKMAN.
That blast is the breath of life to me. That blast comes to me like a
greeting from subject spirits. I seem to touch them, the prisoned
millions; I can see the veins of metal stretch out their winding,
branching, luring arms to me. I saw them before my eyes like living
shapes, that night when I stood in the strong-room with the candle in my
hand. You begged to be liberated, and I tried to free you. But my
strength failed me; and the treasure sank back into the deep again.
[_With outstretched hands._] But I will whisper it to you here in the
stillness of the night: I love you, as you lie there spell-bound in the
deeps and the darkness! I love you, unborn treasures, yearning for the
light! I love you, with all your shining train of power and glory! I
love you, love you, love you!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_In suppressed but rising agitation._] Yes, your love is still down
there, John. It has always been rooted there. But here, in the light of
day, here there was a living, warm, human heart that throbbed and glowed
for you. And this heart you crushed. Oh worse than that! Ten times
worse! You sold it for—for——
BORKMAN.
[_Trembles; a cold shudder seems to go through him._] For the
kingdom—and the power—and the glory—you mean?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Yes, that’s what I mean. I have said it once before to-night: you have
murdered the love-life in the woman who loved you. And whom you loved in
return, so far as you _could_ love any one. [_With uplifted arm._] And
therefore I prophesy to you, John Gabriel Borkman—you will never touch
the price you demanded for the murder. You will never enter in triumph
into your cold, dark kingdom!
BORKMAN.
[_Staggers to the bench and seats himself heavily._] I almost fear your
prophecy will come true, Ella.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Going up to him._] You must not fear it, John. That is the best thing
that can happen to you.
BORKMAN.
[_With a shriek; clutching at his breast._] Ah——! [_Feebly._] Now it let
me go again.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Shaking him._] What was it, John?
BORKMAN.
[_Sinking down against the back of the seat._] It was a hand of ice that
clutched at my heart.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
John! Did you feel the ice-hand again!
BORKMAN.
[_Murmurs._] No. No ice-hand. It was a metal hand.
[_He sinks right down upon the bench._
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Tears off her cloak and throws it over him._] Lie still where you are!
I will go and bring help for you.
[_She goes a step or two towards the right; then she stops, returns,
and carefully feels his pulse and touches his face._
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Softly and firmly._] No. It is best so, John Borkman. Best so for you.
[_She spreads the cloak closer around him, and sinks down in the
snow in front of the bench. A short silence._
[_MRS. BORKMAN, wrapped in a mantle, comes through the wood on the
right. THE MAID goes before her carrying a lantern._
THE MAID.
[_Throwing the light upon the snow._] Yes, yes, ma’am, here are their
tracks.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_Peering around._] Yes, here they are! They are sitting there on the
bench. [_Calls._] Ella!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Rising._] Are you looking for us?
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_Sternly._] Yes, you see I have to.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Pointing._] Look, there he lies, Gunhild.
MRS. BORKMAN.
Sleeping?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
A long, deep sleep, I think.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_With an outburst._] Ella! [_Controls herself and asks in a low
voice._] Did he do it—of his own accord?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
No.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_Relieved._] Not by his own hand then?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
No. It was an ice-cold metal hand that gripped him by the heart.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_To THE MAID._] Go for help. Get the men to come up from the farm.
THE MAID.
Yes, I will, ma’am. [_To herself._] Lord save us!
[_She goes out through the wood to the right._
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_Standing behind the bench._] So the night air has killed him——
ELLA RENTHEIM.
So it appears.
MRS. BORKMAN.
——strong man that he was.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Coming in front of the bench._] Will you not look at him, Gunhild?
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_With a gesture of repulsion._] No, no, no. [_Lowering her voice._] He
was a miner’s son, John Gabriel Borkman. He could not live in the fresh
air.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
It was rather the cold that killed him.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[_Shakes her head._] The cold, you say? The cold—that had killed him
long ago.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_Nodding to her._] Yes—and changed us two into shadows.
MRS. BORKMAN.
You are right there.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[_With a painful smile._] A dead man and two shadows—_that_ is what the
cold has made of us.
MRS. BORKMAN.
Yes, the coldness of heart.—And now I think we two may hold out our
hands to each other, Ella.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
I think we may, now.
MRS. BORKMAN.
We twin sisters—over him we have both loved.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
We two shadows—over the dead man.
[_MRS. BORKMAN behind the bench, and ELLA RENTHEIM in front of it,
take each other’s hand._
WHEN WE DEAD AWAKEN
(1899)
CHARACTERS.
PROFESSOR ARNOLD RUBEK, _a sculptor_.
MRS. MAIA RUBEK, _his wife_.
The INSPECTOR at the Baths.
ULFHEIM, _a landed proprietor_.
A STRANGER LADY.
A SISTER OF MERCY.
_Servants, Visitors to the Baths, and Children._
[_The First Act passes at a bathing establishment on the coast; the
Second and Third Acts in the neighbourhood of a health resort
high in the mountains._]
WHEN WE DEAD AWAKEN
A DRAMATIC EPILOGUE
ACT FIRST
_Outside the Bath Hotel. A portion of the main building can be seen to
the right. An open, park-like place with a fountain, groups of
fine old trees, and shrubbery. To the left, a little pavilion
almost covered with ivy and Virginia creeper. A table and chair
outside it. At the back a view over the fjord, right out to sea,
with headlands and small islands in the distance. It is a calm,
warm and sunny summer morning._
_PROFESSOR RUBEK and MRS. MAIA RUBEK are sitting in basket chairs beside
a covered table on the lawn outside the hotel, having just
breakfasted. They have champagne and seltzer-water on the table,
and each has a newspaper. PROFESSOR RUBEK is an elderly man of
distinguished appearance, wearing a black velvet jacket, and
otherwise in light summer attire. MAIA is quite young, with a
vivacious expression and lively, mocking eyes, yet with a
suggestion of fatigue. She wears an elegant travelling dress._
MAIA.
[_Sits for some time as though waiting for the PROFESSOR to say
something, then lets her paper drop with a deep sigh._] Oh dear, dear,
dear——!
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Looks up from his paper._] Well, Maia? What is the matter with you?
MAIA.
Just listen how silent it is here.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Smiles indulgently._] And you can hear that?
MAIA.
What?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
The silence?
MAIA.
Yes, indeed I can.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Well, perhaps you are right, _mein Kind_. One can really hear the
silence.
MAIA.
Heaven knows you can—when it’s so absolutely overpowering as it is
here——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Here at the Baths, you mean?
MAIA.
Wherever you go at home here, it seems to me. Of course there was noise
and bustle enough in the town. But I don’t know how it is—even the noise
and bustle seemed to have something dead about it.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_With a searching glance._] You don’t seem particularly glad to be at
home again, Maia?
MAIA.
[_Looks at him._] Are _you_ glad?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Evasively._] I——?
MAIA.
Yes, you, who have been so much, much further away than I. Are _you_
entirely happy, now that you are at home again?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
No—to be quite candid—perhaps not entirely happy——
MAIA.
[_With animation._] There, you see! Didn’t I know it!
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I have perhaps been too long abroad. I have drifted quite away from all
this—this home life.
MAIA.
[_Eagerly, drawing her chair nearer him._] There, you see, Rubek! We had
much better get away again! As quickly as ever we can.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Somewhat impatiently._] Well, well, that is what we intend to do, my
dear Maia. You know that.
MAIA.
But why not now—at once? Only think how cosy and comfortable we could be
down there, in our lovely new house——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Smiles indulgently._] We ought by rights to say: our lovely new
_home_.
MAIA.
[_Shortly._] I prefer to say _house_—let us keep to that.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_His eyes dwelling on her._] You are really a strange little person.
MAIA.
Am I so strange?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Yes, I think so.
MAIA.
But why, pray? Perhaps because I’m not desperately in love with mooning
about up here——?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Which of us was it that was absolutely bent on our coming north this
summer?
MAIA.
I admit, it was I.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
It was certainly not I, at any rate.
MAIA.
But good heavens, who could have dreamt that everything would have
altered so terribly at home here? And in such a short time, too! Why, it
is only just four years since I went away——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Since you were married, yes.
MAIA.
Married? What has _that_ to do with the matter?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Continuing_]—since you became the Frau Professor, and found yourself
mistress of a charming home—I beg your pardon—a very handsome house, I
ought to say. And a villa on the Lake of Taunitz, just at the point that
has become most fashionable, too—. In fact it is all very handsome and
distinguished, Maia, there’s no denying that. And spacious too. We need
not always be getting in each other’s way——
MAIA.
[_Lightly._] No, no, no—there’s certainly no lack of house-room, and
that sort of thing——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Remember, too, that you have been living in altogether more spacious and
distinguished surroundings—in more polished society than you were
accustomed to at home.
MAIA.
[_Looking at him._] Ah, so you think it is _I_ that have changed?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Indeed I do, Maia.
MAIA.
I alone? Not the people here?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Oh yes, they too—a little, perhaps. And not at all in the direction of
amiability. That I readily admit.
MAIA.
I should think you must admit it, indeed.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Changing the subject._] Do you know how it affects me when I look at
the life of the people around us here?
MAIA.
No. Tell me.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
It makes me think of that night we spent in the train, when we were
coming up here——
MAIA.
Why, you were sound asleep all the time.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Not quite. I noticed how silent it became at all the little roadside
stations. I _heard_ the silence—like you, Maia——
MAIA.
H’m,—like me, yes.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
—and that assured me that we had crossed the frontier—that we were
really at home. For the train stopped at all the little
stations—although there was nothing doing at all.
MAIA.
Then why did it stop—though there was nothing to be done?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Can’t say. No one got out or in; but all the same the train stopped a
long, endless time. And at every station I could make out that there
were two railway men walking up and down the platform—one with a lantern
in his hand—and they said things to each other in the night, low, and
toneless, and meaningless.
MAIA.
Yes, that is quite true. There are always two men walking up and down,
and talking——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
—of nothing. [_Changing to a livelier tone._] But just wait till
to-morrow. Then we shall have the great luxurious steamer lying in the
harbour. We’ll go on board her, and sail all round the coast—northward
ho!—right to the polar sea.
MAIA.
Yes, but then you will see nothing of the country—and of the people. And
that was what you particularly wanted.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Short and snappishly._] I have seen more than enough.
MAIA.
Do you think a sea voyage will be better for you?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
It is always a change.
MAIA.
Well well, if only it is the right thing for _you_——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
For me? The right thing? There is nothing in the world the matter with
me.
MAIA.
[_Rises and goes up to him._] Yes, there is, Rubek. I am sure you must
feel it yourself.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Why, my dearest Maia—what should be amiss with me?
MAIA.
[_Behind him, bending over the back of his chair._] That _you_ must tell
me. You have begun to wander about without a moment’s peace. You cannot
rest anywhere—neither at home nor abroad. You have become quite
misanthropic of late.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_With a touch of sarcasm._] Dear me—have _you_ noticed _that_?
MAIA.
No one that knows you can help noticing it. And then it seems to me so
sad that you have lost all pleasure in your work.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
That too, eh?
MAIA.
You that used to be so indefatigable—working from morning to night!
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Gloomily._] _Used_ to be, yes——
MAIA.
But ever since you got your great masterpiece out of hand——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Nods thoughtfully._] "The Resurrection Day"——
MAIA.
—the masterpiece that has gone round the whole world, and made you so
famous——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Perhaps that is just the misfortune, Maia.
MAIA.
How so?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
When I had finished this masterpiece of mine—[_Makes a passionate
movement with his hand_]—for “The Resurrection Day” is a masterpiece! Or
_was_ one in the beginning. No, it is one still. It _must_, _must_,
_must_ be a masterpiece!
MAIA.
[_Looks at him in astonishment._] Why, Rubek—all the world knows _that_.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Short, repellently._] All the world knows nothing! Understands
nothing!
MAIA.
Well, at any rate it can divine something——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Something that isn’t there at all, yes. Something that never was in my
mind. Ah yes, _that_ they can all go into ecstasies over! [_Growling to
himself._] What is the good of working oneself to death for the mob and
the masses—for "all the world"!
MAIA.
Do you think it is better, then—do you think it is worthy of _you_, to
do nothing at all but a portrait-bust now and then?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_With a sly smile._] They are not exactly portrait-busts that I turn
out, Maia.
MAIA.
Yes, indeed they are—for the last two or three years—ever since you
finished your great group and got it out of the house——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
All the same, they are no mere _portrait_-busts, I assure you.
MAIA.
What are they, then?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
There is something equivocal, something cryptic, lurking in and behind
these busts—a secret something, that the people themselves cannot see——
MAIA.
Indeed?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Decisively._] I alone can see it. And it amuses me unspeakably.—On the
surface I give them the “striking likeness,” as they call it, that they
all stand and gape at in astonishment—[_Lowers his voice_]—but at bottom
they are all respectable, pompous horse-faces, and self-opinionated
donkey-muzzles, and lop-eared, low-browed dog-skulls, and fatted
swine-snouts—and sometimes dull, brutal bull-fronts as well——
MAIA.
[_Indifferently._] All the dear domestic animals, in fact.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Simply the dear domestic animals, Maia. All the animals which men have
bedevilled in their own image—and which have bedevilled men in return.
[_Empties his champagne-glass and laughs._] And it is these double-faced
works of art that our excellent plutocrats come and order -----File:
367.png--------------------------------------------------------- of me.
And pay for in all good faith—and in good round figures too—almost their
weight in gold, as the saying goes.
MAIA.
[_Fills his glass._] Come, Rubek! Drink and be happy.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Passes his hand several times across his forehead and leans back in
his chair._] I _am_ happy, Maia. Really happy—in a way. [_Short
silence._] For after all there is a certain happiness in feeling oneself
free and independent on every hand—in having at one’s command everything
one can possibly wish for—all outward things, that is to say. Do you not
agree with me, Maia?
MAIA.
Oh yes, I agree. All that is well enough in its way. [_Looking at him._]
But do you remember what you promised me the day we came to an
understanding on—on that troublesome point——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Nods_]—on the subject of our marriage, yes. It was no easy matter for
you, Maia.
MAIA.
[_Continuing unruffled_]—and agreed that I was to go abroad with you,
and live there for good and all—and enjoy myself.—Do you remember what
you promised me that day?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Shaking his head._] No, I can’t say that I do. Well, what did I
promise?
MAIA.
You said you would take me up to a high mountain and show me all the
glory of the world.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_With a slight start._] Did I promise _you_ that, too?
MAIA.
Me too? Who else, pray?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Indifferently._] No, no, I only meant did I promise to show you——?
MAIA.
—all the glory of the world? Yes, you did. And all that glory should be
mine, you said.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
That is a sort of figure of speech that I was in the habit of using once
upon a time.
MAIA.
Only a figure of speech?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Yes, a schoolboy phrase—the sort of thing I used to say when I wanted to
lure the neighbours’ children out to play with me, in the woods and on
the mountains.
MAIA.
[_Looking hard at him._] Perhaps you only wanted to lure _me_ out to
play, as well?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Passing it off as a jest._] Well, has it not been a tolerably amusing
game, Maia?
MAIA.
[_Coldly._] I did not go with you only to play.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
No, no, I daresay not.
MAIA.
And you never took me up with you to any high mountain, or showed me——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_With irritation_]—all the glory of the world? No, I did not. For, let
me tell you something: you are not really born to be a mountain-climber,
little Maia.
MAIA.
[_Trying to control herself._] Yet at one time you seemed to think I
was.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Four or five years ago, yes. [_Stretching himself in his chair._] Four
or five years—it’s a long, long time, Maia.
MAIA.
[_Looking at him with a bitter expression._] Has the time seemed so very
long to you, Rubek?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I am beginning now to find it a trifle long. [_Yawning._] Now and then,
you know.
MAIA.
[_Returning to her place._] I shall not bore you any longer.
[_She resumes her seat, takes up the newspaper, and begins turning
over the leaves. Silence on both sides._
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Leaning on his elbows across the table, and looking at her
teasingly._] Is the Frau Professor offended?
MAIA.
[_Coldly, without looking up._] No, not at all.
[_Visitors to the baths, most of them ladies, begin to pass, singly
and in groups, through the park from the right, and out to the
left._
[_WAITERS bring refreshments from the hotel, and go off behind the
pavilion._
[_The INSPECTOR, wearing gloves and carrying a stick, comes from his
rounds in the park, meets visitors, bows politely, and exchanges
a few words with some of them._
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Advancing to PROFESSOR RUBEK’S table and politely taking off his
hat._] I have the honour to wish you good morning, Mrs. Rubek.—Good
morning, Professor Rubek.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Good morning, good morning, Inspector.
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Addressing himself to MRS. RUBEK._] May I venture to ask if you have
slept well?
MAIA.
Yes, thank you; excellently—for _my_ part. I always sleep like a stone.
THE INSPECTOR.
I am delighted to hear it. The first night in a strange place is often
rather trying.—And the Professor——?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Oh, _my_ night’s rest is never much to boast of—especially of late.
THE INSPECTOR.
[_With a show of sympathy._] Oh—that is a pity. But after a few weeks’
stay at the Baths—you will quite get over _that_.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Looking up at him._] Tell me, Inspector—are any of your patients in
the habit of taking baths during the night?
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Astonished._] During the night? No, I have never heard of such a
thing.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Have you not?
THE INSPECTOR.
No, I don’t know of any one so ill as to require such treatment.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Well, at any rate there is some one who is in the habit of walking about
the park by night?
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Smiling and shaking his head._] No, Professor—that would be against
the rules.
MAIA.
[_Impatiently._] Good Heavens, Rubek, I told you so this morning—you
must have dreamt it.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[_Drily._] Indeed? Must I? Thank you! [_Turning to the INSPECTOR._] The
fact is, I got up last night—I couldn’t sleep—and I wanted to see what
sort of night it was——
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Attentively._] To be sure—and then——?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I looked out at the window—and caught sight of a white figure in there
among the trees.
MAIA.
[_Smiling to the INSPECTOR._] And the Professor declares that the figure
was dressed in a bathing costume——
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
—or something like it, I said. Couldn’t distinguish very clearly. But I
am sure it was something white.
THE INSPECTOR.
Most remarkable. Was it a gentleman or a lady?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I could almost have sworn it was a lady. But then after it came another
figure. And that one was quite dark—like a shadow——
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Starting._] A dark one? Quite black, perhaps?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Yes, I should almost have said so.
THE INSPECTOR.
[_A light breaking in upon him._] And behind the white figure? Following
close upon her——?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Yes—at a little distance——
THE INSPECTOR.
Aha! Then I think I can explain the mystery, Professor.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Well, what was it then?
MAIA.
[_Simultaneously._] Was the Professor really not dreaming?
THE INSPECTOR.
[_Suddenly whispering, as he directs their attention towards the
background on the right._] Hush, if you please! Look there—Don’t speak
loud for a moment.