Three Dramas by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (top 10 best books of all time TXT) 📖

come home with us now; but he said he was tired after his journey.

Mrs. Evje (to INGEBORG, who has come in from the dining room). Is it ready?

Ingeborg. Yes, ma'am.

Mrs. Evje. Then come along. (INGEBORG opens the dining-room door.)

The Doctor and Evje. Yes, come along!

The Doctor. But we must go ceremoniously! Let us make a little festivity of it to-night! You must head the procession, Evje--and then the two young people Gertrud (taking HARALD's arm). Yes!

The Doctor. And Mrs. Evje and I will bring up the rear! (Offers her his arm.)

Evje. Forward!(The bell rings. He stops.) Who can it be--as late as this?

The Doctor. Probably some friends on their way back from the meeting.

Mrs. Evje. We must wait a moment!(To INGEBORG, who is going to open the door.)Put a leaf in the table, and lay places for as many as come.

Ingeborg. Yes, ma'am. (The bell rings again, as she goes to open the door.)

The Doctor. They are impatient! So much the better--it shows they are in a good humour after the meeting! (A knock is heard at the door.)

All. Come in!(The EDITOR comes in, with no overcoat on, but wearing his hat, which he forgets to take of till he is well into the room. He goes straight up to EVJE, who has crossed over to the left-hand side of the room.)

All (when they see him in the doorway). You! (GERTRUD clings closer to HARALD.)

The Editor. I wanted once more, as in the old days, not to go to bed without--this time it is not a question of thanking you for the happy time we have had together but without begging your pardon!(He speaks quietly, but with suppressed emotion.)There has been some unfortunate misunderstanding. Those articles have been printed, in spite of my express instructions to the contrary--I do not know how.

Evje. I have read them.

The Editor. You have read them?

Evje. Yes, the copy of the paper that was meant for you came into my hands.

The Editor. So that was it!--Forgive me, old friend! Won't you give me your hand?

Mrs. Evje (coming forward). That he shall never do!

The Editor (glancing over his shoulder at her). Let no one come between us at a moment like this! You don't know--. A hundred times in my life I would have done what I am doing now, had I not been afraid that people would call it affectation on my part and repulse me. Don't _you_ do that!--least of all now! Give me your hand, Evje! I beg you, in the sight and hearing of you all--. (EVJE seems to vacillate.)

Mrs. Evje. No, you shan't!--not while he has anything to do with a newspaper. Otherwise it will all begin over again to-morrow. He is not his own master, you know.

The Editor. I have done with it all.

Mrs. Evje. Oh, you have said that so often! Nobody believes it. No; when a man can push political hatred so far as to write about an old friend, in whose house he has been a daily guest, as if he were a criminal--and all because he doesn't like his son-in-law, or his servant--one doesn't shake hands with him the very day his attacks appear in the paper.

The Editor (who, all the tinge, has kept his back turned to MRS. EVJE, and has not looked at her). Evje, you are a good-hearted fellow, I know. Don't listen to what others say, now. This is a very bitter hour for me. You would be doing a good deed! Give me your hand--or a word! I am in such a state now that I must have visible signs of _some one's_ forgiveness, or I shall--!

Mrs. Evje (emphatically). Yes, a little repentance will do you good! But it will do you no good if you obtain forgiveness easily! You want to learn, just for once, what it is to be wounded at heart. You are only accustomed to deal with people whom you can flog one day and have at your feet--either from fear or from vanity--the next. And have we--God forgive us!--ever thought seriously the worse of you for it? No; because we never understood what it was till we were hit by it ourselves. But that is all the more reason why we should do our duty now! Hatred shall be met with hatred!

The Doctor (at the back of the room, to GERTRUD and HARALD). She is her father's daughter, after all, when it comes to the point!

The Editor (turns upon MRS. EVJE, with his fist clenched, but restrains himself from answering her). Then you won't shake hands, Evje? Not a word of forgiveness?

Evje. I think my wife is right.

The Editor (controlling himself with difficulty). You are a weak man, I know--

Evje. What do you mean?

The Editor.--but do not be weak this time! If you knew everything, you would know you _must_ not refuse me what I ask. There are others concerned--and for that reason--

The Doctor. Let us go!

Mrs. Evje. No, stay! He shall not have his way again.

The Editor. Well, of all--! It is certainly true that those who are hardest on sinners are those who have never been tempted themselves--and the most merciless creature in the world is an injured woman.

Mrs. Evje. Now he is coming out in his true colours!

The Doctor (not without glee). Yes, that he is!

The Editor (controlling himself once more). Evje--you, who know me, know what it must cost me to do this--and you can form some idea of the need I am in. I have never--

Evje. I believe you; but I never can feel sure what your next move will be. You have so many.

The Editor. My next move is to have done with it all, as sure as--

Mrs. Evje. Don't believe him! A man who can ask for your sympathy one moment and abuse you the next is not fit to promise anything--and certainly not fit to be forgiven, either.

The Editor (with an outburst of passion). Then may everything evil overtake me if I ever ask you or any one else for sympathy again! You have succeeded in teaching me that I can do without it! I can rise above your cowardly cruelty. (To EVJE.) You are a miserable, weak creature--and have always been, for all your apparent good-natured shrewdness! (To MRS. EVJE.) And as for you, who have often laughed so heartily at my so-called malice, and now all at once have become so severely virtuous--why, you are both like part-proprietors of my paper! You have taken all the profit you could from me, as long as it served your purpose--I have seen that for a long time! And all my pretended friends are like you--secret holders of shares in me, so as to secure their own safety and the persecution of others!--every bit as guilty as I am, only more prudent, more timid, more cowardly--!

Evje. Once more--leave this house, which you have outraged!

Mrs. Evje. And how dare you set foot in here again?

The Editor. No, I am not going until all the anger that is in my heart has turned into fear in yours! Because now I will _not_ have done with it all! No--it is just through _his_ death that respect for me will revive--it will be like a rampart of bayonets round me! "There goes one who can kill a man with a word, if he likes!" _That_ will make them treat me respectfully!

Harald and the Doctor. What does he mean?

The Editor (as he hears HARALD'S voice). And you--you mountebank, who can stand up in public and seek applause before your brother's corpse is cold--don't come talking rant to me! You are more contemptible than I am! I couldn't have done that; I couldn't stand there, as you are doing now, impatient to get to your champagne and pretty speeches!--Oh, how I despise all such lying and heartlessness! (They all look at him and at each other with a questioning expression.)

Harald. Is my brother dead?

Mrs. Evje. Is his brother dead?

Gertrud. Good God, is Halvdan dead?

Evje. Is he dead? Impossible!

The Doctor. Is Rejn dead--and I--?

Evje. I saw him only a couple of hours ago, looking quite well.

The Editor (in a broken voice). Didn't you know?

All (except the DOCTOR). No!

The Doctor. Ah, that letter, that letter! (Looks in his pocket for it and his glasses.)

The Editor. I am the wretchedest man alive! (Sinks into a chair.)

The Doctor. I had a letter from my assistant, but I have not read it!

Mrs. Evje. Read it, read it!

The Doctor (reading). "I am writing in great haste. As I expect you will be going to your old friends' after the meeting, and will meet Harald Rejn there, the task will probably fall to you of telling him--(the EDITOR gets up to go, but stands still)--that Halvdan Rejn died about eight o'clock of a fresh attack of hemorrhage! (HARALD leaves GERTRUD'S side and comes forward, with a cry. The EDITOR steadies himself by holding on to the table.) No one was with him; he was found lying across the threshold of his bedroom. A copy of the newspaper was lying on the floor behind him." (HARALD, with a groan, advance threateningly towards the EDITOR.)

Gertrud. Harald, my ring!--my ring! (HARALD Stops, collects himself, buries his face in his hands and bursts into uncontrollable tears. GERTRUD puts her arms round him and holds him folded in them.)

The Doctor (laying a hand on HARALD's arm). "The housekeeper told me he had only spoken two words, and they were 'Forgive him!'" (HARALD bursts into tears.)

The Doctor (after waiting for a little). "Apparently chance--or perhaps something else--decreed that the maid who ran for help, should meet the very man, who hats caused the tragedy, and that it should be _he_ who helped the housekeeper to lay him on his deathbed." (All look at the EDITOR.)

Evje. That was why he came! (A pause.)

Gertrud. Harald! (HARALD, who has turned away from her to struggle with his emotion, does not turn round.) If _he_ could forgive--

The Editor (with a gesture of refusal). No!

Gertrud (quietly, to the EDITOR). If you want to deserve it, make an end of all this!

The Editor. It is all at an end! (To MRS. EVJE.) You were right. I knew it myself, too. My armour is pierces pierced through. A child might conquer me now--and this child has done so; for she has begged for mercy for me, and no one has ever done that before. (Puts his hand over his eyes, turns away, and goes out. As he is going out the bell rings. A moment later, INGEBORG Shows in HAAKON REJN.)

Gertrud (who has put her arms round HARALD, whispers). Who is it?

Harald. My brother. (Goes to meet HAAKON and throws himself into his arms.) You had a talk with him this afternoon, then?

Haakon. Yes.

Mrs. Evje. Let us all go to him.

Evje and Gertrud. Yes.

Mrs. Evje (to INGEBORG). Bring in our cloaks and hats again, and afterwards clear the table. (INGEBORG does so.)

Harald (unable to control his emotion). Haakon, this is my future wife. (Goes away from them.)

Haakon. Well, my dear, your engagement has begun seriously; take all the future seriously, too.

The Doctor. You