few words; a moment after, he comes into the room._
RÖRLUND.
[_Goes up to the table, as if looking for something, and says in a low
voice._] Dina.
DINA.
Yes.
RÖRLUND.
Why will you not come out?
DINA.
When I came with the coffee I could see by the strange lady’s looks that
they had been talking about me.
RÖRLUND.
And did you not notice, too, how kindly she spoke to you?
DINA.
But that is what I can’t bear.
RÖRLUND.
Yours is a rebellious nature, Dina.
DINA.
Yes.
RÖRLUND.
What makes it so?
DINA.
It has never been otherwise.
RÖRLUND.
But could you not try to change?
DINA.
No.
RÖRLUND.
Why not?
DINA.
[_Looks up at him._] Because I belong to the “Lapsed and Lost.”
RÖRLUND.
Fie, Dina!
DINA.
And so did my mother before me.
RÖRLUND.
Who has spoken to you of such things?
DINA.
No one; they never speak. Why don’t they? They all handle me as gingerly
as though I would fall to pieces, if——Oh, how I hate all this
good-heartedness!
RÖRLUND.
My dear Dina, I can very well understand that you must feel oppressed
here, but——
DINA.
Oh, if I could only go far away! I could get on well enough by myself,
if only I lived among people that weren’t so—so——
RÖRLUND.
So what?
DINA.
So proper and moral.
RÖRLUND.
Come, Dina, you do not mean that.
DINA.
Oh, you know very well _how_ I mean it. Every day Hilda and Netta come
here that I may take example by them. I can _never_ be as well-behaved
as they are, and I _will not_ be. Oh, if only I were far away, I daresay
I could be good.
RÖRLUND.
You _are_ good, my dear Dina.
DINA.
What good does that do me, here?
RÖRLUND.
Then you are seriously thinking of going away?
DINA.
I would not remain here a day longer, if _you_ were not here.
RÖRLUND.
Tell me, Dina—what is it that really makes you like to be with me?
DINA.
You teach me so much that is beautiful.
RÖRLUND.
Beautiful? Do you call what I can teach you beautiful?
DINA.
Yes; or rather—you teach me nothing; but when I hear you speak, it makes
me think of so much that is beautiful.
RÖRLUND.
What do you understand, then, by a beautiful thing?
DINA.
I have never thought of that.
RÖRLUND.
Then think of it now. What do you understand by a beautiful thing?
DINA.
A beautiful thing is something great—and far away.
RÖRLUND.
H’m.—My dear Dina—I sympathise with you from the bottom of my heart.
DINA.
Is _that_ all?
RÖRLUND.
You know very well how unspeakably dear you are to me.
DINA.
If I were Hilda or Netta you would not be afraid to let any one see it.
RÖRLUND.
Oh, Dina, you cannot possibly realise the thousand considerations——When
a man is singled out as a moral pillar of the society he lives in,
why—he cannot be too careful. If I were only sure that people would not
misinterpret my motives——But no matter; you must and shall be helped to
rise. Dina, shall we make a bargain that when I come—when circumstances
permit me to come—and say: Here is my hand—you will take it and be my
wife?—Do you promise me that, Dina?
DINA.
Yes.
RÖRLUND.
Thank you, thank you!—Oh, Dina, I love you so——Sh! some one is coming.
Dina, for my sake—go out to the others.
[_She goes out to the coffee-table. At the same moment_ RUMMEL,
SANDSTAD, _and_ VIGELAND _enter from the Consul’s office,
followed by_ CONSUL BERNICK, _who has a bundle of papers in
his hand._
BERNICK.
Then that matter is settled.
VIGELAND.
Yes, with the blessing of God, so let it be.
RUMMEL.
It is settled, Bernick! A Norseman’s word stands firm as the Dovrefjeld,
you know!
BERNICK.
And no one is to give in or fall away, whatever opposition we may meet
with.
RUMMEL.
We stand or fall together, Bernick.
HILMAR.
[_Coming up from the garden._] Excuse me, isn’t it the railway that
falls?
BERNICK.
On the contrary, it is to go ahead——
RUMMEL.
——full steam, Mr. Tönnesen.
HILMAR.
[_Coming forward._] Indeed!
RÖRLUND.
What?
MRS. BERNICK.
[_At the door._] My dear Karsten, what’s the meaning——?
BERNICK.
Oh, my dear Betty, it can’t possibly interest you. [_To the three men._]
Now we must get the prospectus ready; the sooner the better. Of course
we four put our names down first. Our position in society renders it our
duty to do as much as we can.
SANDSTAD.
No doubt, Consul.
RUMMEL.
We _will_ make it go, Bernick; we are bound to.
BERNICK.
Oh, yes; I have no fear as to the result. We must work hard, each in his
own circle; and if we can once point to a really lively interest in the
affair among all classes of society, it follows that the town, too, must
contribute its share.
MRS. BERNICK.
Now, Karsten, you must really come and tell us——
BERNICK.
Oh, my dear Betty, ladies don’t understand these things.
HILMAR.
Then you are actually going to back up the railway after all?
BERNICK.
Yes, of course.
RÖRLUND.
But last year, Consul——?
BERNICK.
Last year it was a different matter altogether. Then it was a coast line
that was proposed——
VIGELAND.
——which would have been entirely superfluous, Doctor; for have we not
steamboats?
SANDSTAD.
——and would have been outrageously expensive——
RUMMEL.
——yes, and would actually have interfered with important vested
interests here in the town.
BERNICK.
The chief objection was that it would have conferred no benefit on the
great mass of the community. Therefore I opposed it; and then the inland
line was adopted.
HILMAR.
Yes, but that won’t touch the towns about here.
BERNICK.
It will touch _our_ town, my dear Hilmar, for we are going to build a
branch line.
HILMAR.
Aha; an entirely new idea, then?
RUMMEL.
Yes; a magnificent idea, isn’t it?
RÖRLUND.
H’m——
VIGELAND.
It cannot be denied that Providence seems specially to have smoothed the
way for a branch line.
RÖRLUND.
Do you really say so, Mr. Vigeland?
BERNICK.
Yes, for my part, I cannot but regard it as a special guidance that sent
me up country on business this spring, and led me by chance into a
valley where I had never been before. It struck me like a flash of
lightning that here was the very track for a branch line. I at once sent
an engineer to inspect it; I have here the provisional calculations and
estimates; nothing now stands in our way.
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Still standing, along with the other ladies, at the garden door._]
But, my dear Karsten, why have you kept all this so secret?
BERNICK.
Oh, my good Betty, you would not have seen the situation in its true
light. Besides, I have spoken of it to no living creature until to-day.
But now the decisive moment has come; now we must go to work openly, and
with all our might. Ay, if I have to risk all I possess in the affair, I
am determined to see it through.
RUMMEL.
So are we, Bernick; you may rely on us.
RÖRLUND.
Do you really expect such great results from this undertaking,
gentlemen?
BERNICK.
Yes, indeed we do. What a stimulus it will give to our whole community!
Think of the great tracts of forest it will bring within reach, think of
all the rich mineral-seams it will allow us to work; think of the river,
with its one waterfall above the other! What rare advantages for
manufactures of all kinds!
RÖRLUND.
And you have no fear that more frequent intercourse with a depraved
outer world——
BERNICK.
No; make your mind easy, Doctor. Our busy little town now rests, heaven
be thanked, on a sound moral foundation; we have all helped to drain it,
if I may say so; and that we will continue to do, each in his own way.
You, Doctor, will carry on your beneficent activity in the school and in
the home. We, the practical men of business, will support society by
furthering the welfare of as wide a circle as possible. And our
women—yes, come nearer, ladies; I am glad that you should hear—our
women, I say, our wives and daughters, will proceed unwearied in their
charitable labours, and be a help and comfort to those nearest and
dearest to them, as my dear Betty and Martha are to me and Olaf——[_Looks
around._] Why, where is Olaf to-day?
MRS. BERNICK.
Oh, in the holidays it’s impossible to keep him at home.
BERNICK.
Then he’s certain to have gone down to the water again! You’ll see, this
will end in a misfortune.
HILMAR.
Bah—a little sport with the forces of nature——
MRS. RUMMEL.
How nice it is of you to be so domestic, Mr. Bernick.
BERNICK.
Ah, the Family is the kernel of society. A good home, upright and trusty
friends, a little close-drawn circle, where no disturbing elements cast
their shadow——
KRAP _enters from the right, with letters and papers._
KRAP.
The foreign mail, Consul—and a telegram from New York.
BERNICK.
[_Taking it._] Ah, from the owners of the _Indian Girl_.
RUMMEL.
Oh, the mail is in? Then you must excuse me——
VIGELAND.
And me too.
SANDSTAD
Good-bye, Consul.
BERNICK.
Good-bye, good-bye, gentlemen. And remember we have a meeting this
afternoon at five o’clock.
THE THREE.
Yes—of course—all right.
[_They go out to the right._
BERNICK.
[_Who has read the telegram._] Well, this is really too American!
Positively shocking——!
MRS. BERNICK.
Why, Karsten, what is it?
BERNICK.
Look here, Krap—read this!
KRAP.
[_Reads._] “Fewest possible repairs; despatch _Indian Girl_ without
delay; good season: at worst, cargo will keep her afloat.” Well, I must
say——
BERNICK.
The cargo keep her afloat! These gentlemen know very well that, if
anything should happen, that cargo will send her to the bottom like a
stone.
RÖRLUND.
Ay, this shows the state of things in these vaunted great nations.
BERNICK.
You are right there—even human life counts for nothing when dollars are
at stake. [_To_ KRAP.] Can the _Indian Girl_ be ready for sea in four or
five days?
KRAP.
Yes, if Mr. Vigeland will agree to let the _Palm Tree_ stand over in the
meantime.
BERNICK.
H’m—he will scarcely agree to that. Oh, just look through the mail,
please. By the way, did you see Olaf down on the pier?
KRAP.
No, Consul.
[_He goes into Consul’s office._
BERNICK.
[_Looking again at the telegram._] These gentlemen think nothing of
risking the lives of eighteen men——
HILMAR.
Well, it’s a sailor’s calling to brave the elements. It must brace up
your nerves to feel that you have only a thin plank between you and
eternity——
BERNICK.
I should like to see the shipowner among _us_ that would have the
conscience to do such a thing! There isn’t one, not a single one.
[_Catches sight of_ OLAF.] Ah, thank goodness, nothing has happened to
him.
[OLAF, _with a fishing-line in his hand, comes running up the
street and through the garden-gate._
OLAF.
[_Still in the garden._] Uncle Hilmar, I’ve been down seeing the
steamboat.
BERNICK.
Have you been on the pier again?
OLAF.
No, I was only out in a boat. But just fancy, Uncle Hilmar, a whole
circus company came ashore from the steamer, with horses and wild
beasts; and there were a lot of passengers besides.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, are we to have a circus?
RÖRLUND.
We? Really I should hope not.
MRS. RUMMEL.
No, of course not _we_, but——
DINA.
I should like to see a circus.
OLAF.
Oh, and me too!
HILMAR.
You’re a little blockhead. What is there to see? Nothing but trickery
and make-believe. Now it would be something worth while to see the
gaucho sweeping over the Pampas on his snorting mustang. But, hang it
all, here in these little towns——
OLAF.
[_Pulling MARTHA’S dress._] Aunt Martha, look, look—there they come!
MRS. HOLT.
Yes indeed, here we have them.
MRS. LYNGE.
Oh, what horrid people!
[_Many travellers, and a whole crowd of townspeople, come up the
street._
MRS. RUMMEL.
Aren’t they a regular set of mountebanks! Just look at that one in the
grey dress, Mrs. Holt; the one with the knapsack on her back.
MRS. HOLT.
Yes, see, she has it slung on the handle of her parasol. Of course it’s
the manager’s wife.
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, and there’s the manager himself, the one with the beard. Well, he
_does_ look a regular pirate. Don’t look at him, Hilda!
MRS. HOLT.
Nor you either, Netta!
OLAF.
Oh, mother, the manager is bowing to us.
BERNICK.
What?
MRS. BERNICK.
What do you say, child?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Yes, and I declare the woman is nodding too!
BERNICK.
Come, this is really too much!
MARTHA.
[_With an involuntary cry._] Ah——!
MRS. BERNICK.
What is it, Martha?
MARTHA.
Oh, nothing—only I thought——
OLAF.
[_Shrieks with delight._] Look, look, there come the others, with the
horses and wild beasts! And there are the Americans too! All the sailors
from the _Indian Girl_——
[_“Yankee Doodle” is heard, accompanied by a clarinet and drum._
HILMAR.
[_Stopping his ears._] Ugh, ugh, ugh!
RÖRLUND.
I think we should withdraw for a moment, ladies. This is no scene for
us. Let us resume our work.
MRS. BERNICK.
Perhaps we ought to draw the curtains?
RÖRLUND.
Yes, that is just what I was thinking.
[_The ladies take their places at the table;_ RÖRLUND _shuts the
garden door and drams the curtains over it and over the
windows; it becomes half dark in the room._
OLAF.
[_Peeping out._] Mother, the manager’s wife is standing at the fountain
washing her face!
MRS. BERNICK.
What? In the middle of the market-place?
MRS. RUMMEL.
And in broad daylight!
HILMAR.
Well, if I were travelling in the desert and came upon a well, I should
never hesitate to——Ugh, that abominable clarinet!
RÖRLUND.
The police ought really to interfere.
BERNICK.
Oh, come; one must not be too hard upon foreigners; these people are
naturally devoid of the deep-rooted sense of propriety that keeps us
within the right limits. Let them do as they please; it cannot affect
us. All this unseemliness, this rebellion against good taste and good
manners, fortunately finds no echo, if I may say so, in our
society.—What is this!
_A_ STRANGE LADY _enters briskly by the door on the right._
THE LADIES.
[_Frightened, and speaking low._] The circus woman! The manager’s wife!
MRS. BERNICK.
Why, what does this mean!
MARTHA.
[_Starts up._] Ah——!
THE LADY.
Good-morning, my dear Betty! Good-morning, Martha! Good-morning,
brother-in-law!
MRS. BERNICK.
[_With a shriek._] Lona——!
BERNICK.
[_Staggers back a step._] Merciful heavens——!
MRS. HOLT.
Why, goodness me——!
MRS. RUMMEL.
It can’t be possible——!
HILMAR.
What? Ugh!
MRS. BERNICK.
Lona——! Is it really——?
LONA.
Really me? Yes, indeed it is. You may fall on my neck and embrace me,
for that matter.
HILMAR.
_Ugh_! ugh!
MRS. BERNICK.
And you come here as——?
BERNICK.
You are actually going to appear——?
LONA.
Appear? How appear?
BERNICK.
I mean—in the circus——?
LONA.
Ha ha ha! What nonsense, brother-in-law. Do you think I belong to the
circus? No; it’s true I have turned my hand to all sorts of things, and
made a fool of myself in many ways——
MRS. RUMMEL.
H’m——
LONA.
——but I’ve never learnt to play tricks on horseback.
BERNICK.
Then you are not——?
MRS. BERNICK.
Oh, thank God!
LONA.
No, no; we came like other respectable people—second class, it’s true;
but we’re used to that.
MRS. BERNICK.
We, you say?
BERNICK.
[_Advancing a step._] What _we_?
LONA.
Why, my boy and I, of course.
THE LADIES.
[_With a cry._] Your boy!
HILMAR.
What?
RÖRLUND.
Well, I must say——
MRS. BERNICK.
Why, what do you mean, Lona?
LONA.
Of course I mean John; I have no other boy but John, that I know of—or
Johan, as you call him.
MRS. BERNICK.
Johan——!
MRS. RUMMEL.
[_Aside to MRS. LYNGE._] The prodigal brother.
BERNICK.
[_Hesitatingly._] Is Johan with you?
LONA.
Of course, of course; I would never travel without him. But you’re all
looking so dismal—and sitting here in this twilight, sewing at something
white. There hasn’t been a death in the family?
RÖRLUND.
This is a meeting, Miss Hessel, of the Society for the Moral
Regeneration of the Lapsed and Lost.
LONA.
[_Half to herself._] What? These nice-looking, well-behaved ladies, can
_they_ be——?
MRS. RUMMEL.
Oh, this is too much——!
LONA.
Ah, I see, I see! Why, good gracious, that’s Mrs. Rummel I And there
sits Mrs. Holt too! Well, we three haven’t grown younger since last we
met. But listen now, good people: let the Lapsed and Lost wait for one
day; they’ll be none the worse for it. On a joyful occasion like this——
RÖRLUND.
A return home is not always a joyful occasion.
LONA.
Indeed? Then how do you read your Bible, Pastor?
RÖRLUND.
I am not a clergyman.
LONA.
Oh; then you will be one, for certain.—But, pah!—this moral linen here
has a tainted smell—just like a shroud. I’m accustomed to the air of the
prairies now, I can tell you.
BERNICK.
[_Wiping his forehead._] Yes; it really is rather oppressive in here.
LONA.
Wait a moment—we’ll soon rise from the sepulchre. [_Draws back the
curtains._] We must have broad daylight here when my boy comes. Ah—then
you shall see a boy that has washed himself———
HILMAR.
Ugh!
LONA.
[_Opens the door and the windows._]——when he _has_ washed himself, I
mean—up at the hotel—for on board the steamer you get as dirty as a pig.
HILMAR.
Ugh, ugh!
LONA.
“Ugh”? Why if that isn’t——! [_Points to HILMAR, and asks the others._]
Does he still loaf about here saying “ugh” to everything?
HILMAR.
I do not loaf; I remain here by my doctor’s orders.
RÖRLUND.
Ahem—ladies, I hardly think that——
LONA.
[_Catches sight of OLAF._] Is this _your_ youngster, Betty? Give us your
fist, my boy! Or are you afraid of your ugly old aunt?
RÖRLUND.
[_Putting his book under his arm._] I do not think, ladies, that we are
quite in the mood for doing more work to-day. But we shall meet again
to-morrow?
LONA.
[_As the visitors rise to go._] Yes, by all means—I shall be here.
RÖRLUND.
You? Allow me to ask, Miss Hessel, what you will do in _our_ Society?
LONA.
I will let in fresh air, Pastor.
-----
Footnote 21:
“Gjort umyndig” = placed under a legal interdict.
Footnote 22:
When this play was written, Ministers did not sit in the Storthing,
and were not responsible to it. This state of things was altered—as
Ibsen here predicts—in the great constitutional struggle of 1872-84,
which ended in the victory of the Liberal party, their leader, Johan
Sverdrup, becoming Prime Minister.
Footnote 23:
“Havetrappe” here seems to imply a light of steps with so wide a
landing at the top as practically to form a verandah, under the
sun-shade. In subsequent stage directions, the word is rendered by
“verandah.”
ACT SECOND.
_The garden-room in CONSUL BERNICK’S house._
MRS. BERNICK _is sitting alone at the work-table, sewing. In a little
while_ CONSUL BERNICK _enters from the right, with his hat and
gloves on, and a stick in his hand._
MRS. BERNICK.
Are you home already, Karsten?
BERNICK.
Yes. I have an appointment here.
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Sighing._] Oh, yes; I suppose Johan will be down here again.
BERNICK.
No; it’s with one of my men. [_Takes off his hat._] Where are all the
ladies to-day?
MRS. BERNICK.
Mrs. Rummel and Hilda hadn’t time to come.
BERNICK.
Indeed! They have sent excuses?
MRS. BERNICK.
Yes; they had so much to do at home.
BERNICK.
Of course. And the others are not coming either, I suppose?
MRS. BERNICK.
No; something has prevented them too.
BERNICK.
I was sure it would. Where is Olaf?
MRS. BERNICK.
I allowed him to go for a walk with Dina.
BERNICK.
H’m; that scatter-brained hussy, Dina——! How could she go and forthwith
strike up a friendship with Johan——!
MRS. BERNICK.
Why, my dear Karsten, Dina has no idea——
BERNICK.
Well, then, Johan at least should have had tact enough to take no notice
of her. I could see Vigeland’s expressive glances.
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Dropping her work into her lap._] Karsten, can you understand what has
brought them home?
BERNICK.
Well, he has a farm over there, that doesn’t seem to be very
flourishing; and _she_ mentioned yesterday that they had to travel
second-class——
MRS. BERNICK.
Yes, I was afraid it must be something of that sort. But that _she_
should have come with him! She! After the terrible way she insulted
you——!
BERNICK.
Oh, don’t think of those old stories.
MRS. BERNICK.
How can I think of anything else? He is my own brother——; and yet it is
not of him that I think, but of all the unpleasantness it will bring
upon you. Karsten, I am so dreadfully afraid that——
BERNICK.
What are you afraid of?
MRS. BERNICK.
Might they not think of arresting him for that money your mother lost?
BERNICK.
What nonsense! Who can prove that she lost the money?
MRS. BERNICK.
Why, the whole town knows it, unfortunately; and you said yourself——
BERNICK.
I said nothing. The town knows nothing whatever of the matter; it was
all idle gossip.
MRS. BERNICK.
Oh, how noble you are, Karsten.
BERNICK.
Put all those old stories out of your head, I say! You don’t know how
you torture me by raking them up again. [_He walks up and down the
room;_ _then he throws his stick away from him._] To think of their
coming home just at this time, when so much depends on unmixed
good-feeling, both in the press and in the town! There will be
paragraphs in the papers all over the country-side. Whether I receive
them well or ill, my action will be discussed, my motives turned inside
out. People will rip up all those old stories—just as you do. In a
society like ours——[_Tosses down his gloves upon the table._] And there
isn’t a soul here that I can confide in, or that can give me any
support.
MRS. BERNICK.
No one at all, Karsten?
BERNICK.
No; you know there is not.—That they should descend upon me just at this
moment! They are certain to make a scandal in one way or
another—especially she. It is nothing less than a calamity to have such
people in one’s family.
MRS. BERNICK.
Well, it’s not my fault that——
BERNICK.
What is not your fault? That you are related to them? No; that’s true
enough.
MRS. BERNICK.
And it wasn’t I that asked them to come home.
BERNICK.
Aha, there we have it! “_I_ didn’t ask them to come home; _I_ didn’t
write for them; _I_ didn’t drag them home by the hair of their heads.”
Oh, I know the whole story off by heart.
MRS. BERNICK.
[_Bursting into tears._] Oh, why are you so unkind?
BERNICK
Yes, that’s right; set to crying, so that the town may have _that_ to
chatter about too. Stop this nonsense, Betty. You had better sit outside
there; some one might come in. Perhaps you want people to see Madam with
red eyes? It would be a nice thing indeed if it got abroad that——Ah! I
hear some one in the passage. [_A knock._] Come in.
[MRS. BERNICK _goes out to the verandah with her work._ AUNE
_comes in from the right._
AUNE.
Good-morning, Consul.
BERNICK.
Good-morning. Well, I suppose you can guess what I want with you?
AUNE.
Your clerk told me yesterday that you were not pleased with——
BERNICK.
I am altogether displeased with the way things are going at the yard,
Aune. You are not getting on at all with the repairs. The _Palm Tree_
should have been at sea long ago. Mr. Vigeland comes worrying me about
it every day. He is a troublesome partner.
AUNE.
The _Palm Tree_ can sail the day after to-morrow.
BERNICK.
At last! But the American, the _Indian Girl_, that has been lying here
five weeks, and——
AUNE.
The American? I sort of understood that we was to do all we could to get
your own ship out of hand first.
BERNICK.
I have given you no reason for such an idea. You should have made all
possible progress with the American too; but you have done nothing.
AUNE.
The vessel’s bottom is as rotten as matchwood, Consul; the more we patch
at it the worse it gets.
BERNICK.
That is not the real reason. Krap has told me the whole truth. You don’t
understand how to work the new machines I have introduced—or rather, you
_won’t_ work with them.
AUNE.
I’m getting on in years, Consul Bernick—nigh upon sixty. From a boy I’ve
been used to the old ways——
BERNICK.
They are quite inadequate nowadays. You mustn’t think, Aune, that it’s a
question of mere profit; luckily I could do without that; but I must
consider the community I live in, and the business I have to manage. It
is from me that progress must come, or it will never come at all.
AUNE.
I have nought to say against progress, Consul.
BERNICK.
No, for your own narrow circle, for the working class. Oh, I know all
about your agitations! You make speeches; you stir people up; but when
it comes to a tangible piece of progress, as in the case of the
machines, you will have nothing to do with it; you are afraid.
AUNE.
Yes, I’m afraid, Consul; I’m afraid for the hundreds of poor folks as
the machines’ll take the bread out of their mouths. You talk a deal of
duty towards Society, Consul, but it seems to me as Society has duties
of its own as well. What business have science and capital to bring all
these new-fangled inventions into the field before Society has turned
out a breed of men that can use them?
BERNICK.
You read and think too much, Aune; it does you no good; that is what
makes you dissatisfied with your position.
AUNE.