Short Fiction Selma Lagerlöf (best book club books of all time .txt) 📖

today he is tired and cross and thinks only of letting the legal process have its course.

He lays down the clergyman’s recommendation and says a few words to the defendant to the effect that he hopes he has carefully considered the consequences of a perjured oath. The defendant listens to him with the calm air which he has shown all the while, and he answers respectfully and not without dignity.

The plaintiff listens to this in extreme terror. She makes a few vehement protests and wrings her hands. Now she wants to speak to the Court. She struggles frightfully with her shyness and with the sobs which prevent her speaking. The result is that she cannot get out an audible word.

Then the oath will be taken! She must give it up. No one will prevent him from swearing away his soul.

Until now, she could not believe this possible. But now she is seized with the certainty that it is close at hand⁠—that it will occur the next second. A fear more overpowering than any she has hitherto felt takes possession of her. She is absolutely paralyzed. She does not even weep more. Her eyes are glazed. It is his intention, then, to bring down upon himself eternal punishment.

She comprehends that he wants to swear himself free for the sake of his wife. But even if the truth were to make trouble in his home, he should not for that reason throw away his soul’s salvation.

There is nothing so terrible as perjury. There is something uncanny and awful about that sin. There is no mercy or condonation for it. The gates of the infernal regions open of their own accord when the perjurer’s name is mentioned.

If she had then raised her eyes to his face, she would have been afraid of seeing it stamped with damnation’s mark, branded by the wrath of God.

As she stands there and works herself into greater and greater terror, the Judge instructs the defendant as to how he must place his fingers on the Bible. Then the Judge opens the law book to find the form of the oath.

As she sees him place his fingers on the book, she comes a step nearer, and it appears as though she wished to reach across the table and push his hand away.

But as yet she is restrained by a faint hope. She thinks he will relent now⁠—at the last moment.

The Judge has found the place in the law book, and now he begins to administer the oath loudly and distinctly. Then he makes a pause for the defendant to repeat his words. The defendant actually starts to repeat, but he stumbles over the words, and the Judge must begin again from the beginning.

Now she can no longer entertain a trace of hope. She knows now that he means to swear falsely⁠—that he means to bring down upon himself the wrath of God, both for this life and for the life to come.

She stands wringing her hands in her helplessness. And it is all her fault because she has accused him! But she was without work; she was starving and freezing; the child came near dying. To whom else should she turn for help? Never had she thought that he would be willing to commit such an execrable sin.

The Judge has again administered the oath. In a few seconds the thing will have been done: the kind of thing from which there is no turning back⁠—which can never be retrieved, never blotted out.

Just as the defendant begins to repeat the oath, she rushes forward, sweeps away his outstretched hand, and seizes the Bible.

It is her terrible dread which has finally given her courage. He must not swear away his soul; he must not!

The court officer hastens forward instantly to take the Bible from her and to bring her to order. She has a boundless fear of all that pertains to a Court of Justice and actually believes that what she has just done will bring her to prison; but she does not let go her hold on the Bible. Cost what it may, he cannot take the oath. He who would swear also runs up to take the Bible, but she resists him too.

“You shall not take the oath!” she cries, “you shall not!”

That which is happening naturally awakens the greatest surprise. The court attendants elbow their way up to the bar, the jurymen start to rise, the recording clerk jumps up with the ink bottle in his hand to prevent its being upset.

Then the Judge shouts in a loud and angry tone, “Silence!” and everybody stands perfectly still.

“What is the matter with you? What business have you with the Bible?” the Judge asks the plaintiff in the same hard and severe tone.

Since, with the courage of despair, she has been able to give utterance to her distress, her anxiety has decreased so that she can answer, “He must not take the oath!”

“Be silent, and put back the book!” demands the Judge.

She does not obey, but holds the book tightly with both hands. “He cannot take the oath!” she cries fiercely.

“Are you so determined to win your suit?” asks the Judge sharply.

“I want to withdraw the suit,” she shrieks in a high, shrill voice. “I don’t want to force him to swear.”

“What are you shrieking about?” demands the Judge. “Have you lost your senses?”

She catches her breath suddenly and tries to control herself. She hears herself how she is shrieking. The Judge will think she has gone mad if she cannot say what she would say calmly. She struggles with herself again to get control of her voice, and this time she succeeds. She says slowly, earnestly, and clearly, as she looks the Judge in the face: “I wish to withdraw the suit. He is the father of the child. I am still fond of him. I don’t wish him to swear falsely.”

She stands erect and resolute, facing the Judges’ table, all the while looking the Judge square in the