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

Harald go away?

Mrs. Evje. Yes, my child, he--he went away.

Gertrud. Without saying good-bye to me?

Evje. That's true, he didn't say good-bye to you.

Mrs. Evje. Were you expecting him to come into grandfather's room to say good-bye to you?

Gertrud. Yes. Tell me how things went here?

Evje. Why were you not here, dear?

Gertrud (in astonishment). I here? You said you did not want me to be present--

Evje. I remember, yes; we thought it would not be advisable.

Gertrud (still speaking quietly, but in growing alarm). But how did things go, then?

Evje. How did they go? Badly.

Mrs. Evje (hurriedly). That is to say, he did not behave at all well. You must prepare yourself for the worst, my child!

Gertrud. Is it something very bad, then?

Evje. You know he is a little hasty just now, when he has so much on his hands. He lacks a proper sense of moderation--but he will learn it, sure enough.

Gertrud (almost inaudibly). But what does it mean? Is he never coming back?

Evje. Never coming back? What an extraordinary question! Of course he will come back. He was only a little over-hasty, you know--

Gertrud. And said he would never come back?

Mrs. Evje. Come, come, my dear--you mustn't be alarmed.

Evje. He talked such a lot, you know, that we must not attach any particular importance to anything he said.

Gertrud. So that is how it is!

Mrs. Evje. We must make allowances for all that he is going through just now--

Evje (suddenly). My child, you look so pale--

Mrs. Evje (going to her). Gertrud!

Gertrud (with a quiet movement of protest). I must give grandfather his drink; that was really what I came for. And that was how I happened to see Harald through the window. I will take grandfather his drink. (The curtain falls as she goes out of the room.)


ACT II


(SCENE.--A street in the "villa quarter" of the town. Between it and another street running parallel with it in the background, are two houses standing in gardens, half of the facade of one of them projecting into the stage on the right. On the left a third street runs at right angles to the others, to the back of the stage. The left side of this third street opens onto a well-wooded park. The house in the foreground on the right is in two stories. There is a narrow strip of garden in front of it, enclosed by an iron railing with a gate in it. The gate is standing open. The entrance door to the house is immediately behind this gate. There is light in a small window by the door; the ground floor windows are in darkness; in those of the upper floor, light is visible through heavy curtains. It is a wintry evening, and everything is swathed in an unusually thick fog, in which the gas lamps in the streets show dimmer and dimmer as they recede in the distance. As the curtain goes up, a lamplighter is seen descending his ladder from a lamp-post, where he has just lit the lamp at the corner of the house.)

The Lamplighter (as he reaches the ground). It's all one whether the lamps are lit or not, in such a fog as this. (MRS. EVJE is seen drawing back the curtain at a window on the first floor. She opens the window and looks out.)

Mrs. Evje. The fog is so thick, my dear, that I can't see across the street.

Evje (coming to the window, with fur coat and cap on). So it is!--Well, so much the better, my dear! (They withdraw into the room; the window is shut and the curtains drawn. Two passers-by come along the street from the right, talking.)

First Passer-by. The Land of Fogs--the old idea of the land of Fogs was that of a vision of confused and faint sensation, with the light of the intelligence dimmed and blurred like these gas lamps in the fog.

Second Passer-by. It would be that, if our hearts did not often act as guiding lights to our befogged intelligences. Look at this house behind us--the brandy distiller's. The devilish workings of his intelligence have befogged the whole country--befogged it with brandy--and some such guiding light is much needed there.

First Passer-by. Ah, well,--the old idea of the Land of Fogs was that fogs were--. (The sound of their conversation dies away as they pass into the park on the left. GERTRUD, closely veiled and wrapped in furs, comes slowly out of the park. She stops at the corner and looks down the street, then passed slowly along to the right, looking up at the house as she goes. She is scarcely out of sight when the house-door opens and EVJE comes out.)

Evje. This is about the time he comes home--I daren't go to his house and ask for him; I don't know if he would admit me. I daren't trust to the Doctor alone.--This uncertainty is dreadful! (He starts at seeing GERTRUD, whom he does not recognise in the fog, walking towards him. She turns suddenly and walks back the way she came.) Who was that? She gave me quite a fright in this fog! Her furs seemed rather like--no, no, it couldn't be. I must not let any one recognise me. (Puts up the high collar of his coat, so that only his nose is visible.) Both of them called me a coward, but they are very much mistaken. It is not cowardice for a man who is respected and honoured to try and avoid scandal. Hm! Naturally those who trade in scandals think otherwise!--To act without attaching weight to the opinion of others, to disregard one's own predilections, to put up with being laughed at--all for the sake of preventing a scandal--that is to be strong and courageous. And it _is_ admirable, too; for it is admirable to act fearlessly in the interest of one's family, and of one's business, and of propriety. (Starts as he hears his door opened. JOHN has come along the street and gone into the house.) Is that some one coming out of my house? No, it is a man going in. And then to think of Harald Rejn beginning that nonsense about my being a coward, because I refused to become a party man! Every one ought to take sides in politics--that is their cry. Hm! I should say it required rather more courage nowadays to _refrain_ from taking sides. (Starts again.) Who is that? Oh, only that woman again. She is waiting for some one too. I expect we shall both catch bad colds. (Walks up and down.) It is an odd sensation to be walking up and down on the watch outside one's own house. Cowardice? Pshaw! To let one's self be abused in a public street without stirring a finger to prevent it, _that_ would be cowardice. I only hope he has not gone round the other way? There is much more traffic in that street, and some one might easily--. I think I will take a turn towards the town, and turn back when I am a little way from here; it will look less suspicious. I must catch him, because his paper will be going to press. (Looks up at his house.) My poor wife, sitting up there dreadfully alarmed on my account! (Goes out to the right. As soon as he has gone, the house-door opens and JOHN comes warily out.)

JOHN. So he has gone out, has he! Oh, well, he is bound to come in again! I will wait and catch him, that I will! Tra, la, la, la, la! I can play about here in the fog till he comes back; I have nothing to lose! And it will be best to catch him in the street; he will make less fuss, and can't run away from me! Tra, la, la, la, la! (Lounges out to the right. A moment later, HARALD comes out of the park. He is dressed much as EVJE is, but has not his coat-collar turned up.)

Harald. There is a light in her window! Then she is alone in her room. What am I going to do now? Twice already I have come to look at that light; now I have seen it--and must go away! Good-bye, my darling! Be patient, and wait! I know your thoughts are with me now; and I know you feel that mine are with you! (As he turns away from the house he sees the veiled figure of GERTRUD, who, as soon as she has come nearer, rushes to him, throws up her veil, and falls into his arms in a glad embrace.)

Gertrud. I was certain that, if you could not go into the house again, you would be out here! I knew you would not go away from me, dear!

Harald. No--neither now nor ever.

Gertrud. And, while I was walking up and down here in the fog, I felt that though there might be all this gloom tend cold around us outside, there was the brightness and warmth of certainty in our hearts.

Harald. Yes, our love is the one certainty for me! Fog may obscure the goal I aim at, the road I have to I read, the very ground I stand on; doubts may even for a while attack my faith; but my love for you shines clear through it all!

Gertrud. Thank you, my darling! If that is so, there is nothing that we cannot overcome!

Harald. Of course, you know what took place to-day?

Gertrud. I can guess.

Harald. Is it true that you are ill? Why did you never tell me?

Gertrud. No, the doctor is not telling the truth; I am not ill! Even if I were, what matter? I should go on living as long as I could--and should have done my duty before I gave in!

Harald. That is the way to look at it!

Gertrud. But I am not ill! I suffer, it is true--and am likely to--every time you are persecuted, or my parents on my account. Because _I_ have drawn them into all this that, they are so unfitted for, and that is why it pains me so to see how unprepared it finds them--most of all when, out of tenderness for me, they try to conceal it. But I can't alter things. We are fighting for a cause that you believe to be right, and so do I; surely that is better than never to suffer at all in any good cause. Try me! Let me share the fight with you! I am not weak; it is only that my heart is sore for those I love.

Harald. You splendid, loyal creature!--and you are mine! (Embraces her.)

Gertrud. You should hear what grandfather says!

Harald. Yes, how is the dear old gentleman?

Gertrud. Pretty well, thanks, though he never gets out now. But he is following your work, and he says that what you are aiming at is right, if you ask for God's guidance on your way. Harald--you will always be the same as you are now--good and genuine--won't you, dear? Not like the rest of them--nothing but bitterness and malice, always talking of principles and consequences and all the rest of it, and always attacking others? If one were obliged to be like that, it would be a curse to be a politician.

Harald. I will be what you make me! I think that behind every man's public life you can see his private life--whether