Three Comedies - Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (best color ebook reader .TXT) 📗

of his docket, and extracting a letter from it). Will you condescend to read this? Or perhaps you would rather not?

Svava. How can I tell?

Hoff. Of course, you must first--Allow me. (Gives her the letter.)

Svava (reading). "To-night between ten and eleven that is to say, if the booby has not come home. I love you so dearly! Put a light in the hall window."

Hoff. "The booby" is me.

Svava. But I don't understand--?

Hoff. Here is another.

Svava. "I am full of remorse. Your cough frightens me; and now, when you are expecting--" But what in the world has this to do with me?

Hoff (after a moment's thought). What do you suppose?

Svava. Is it some one you want me to help?

Hoff. No, poor soul, she doesn't need help any more. She is dead.

Svava. Dead? Was she your wife?

Hoff. That's it. She was my wife. I found these and come other things in a little box. At the bottom were these notes--there are more of them--and some cotton wool on the top of them. On the top of that lay some earrings and things that had been her mother's. And also (producing some bracelets) these bracelets. They are certainly much too costly to have been her mother's.

Svava. I suppose she died suddenly, as she did not--

Hoff. I cannot say. Consumptives never think they are going to die. Anyway she was very delicate and weak.--May I sit down?

Svava. Please do. Are there any children?

Hoff (after a moment's thought). I believe not.

Svava. You believe not? I asked because I thought you wanted our Society to help you. This really is all very distressful to me.

Hoff. I thought it would be--I thought as much. Besides, I am not really sure if I--. You cannot understand this, then?

Svava. No, I cannot.

Hoff. No, you cannot.-I have heard so much good spoken of you for many years. My wife used to sing your praises, too.

Svava. Did she know me?

Hoff. She was Maren Tang--who used to be companion to--

Svava.--to Mrs. Christensen, my future mother-in-law? Was it she? She was such a well-bred, quiet woman. Are you sure you are not mistaken? One or two notes, unsigned and undated--what?

Hoff. Did you not recognise the handwriting?

Svava. I? No. Besides, isn't it a disguised hand?

Hoff. Yes, but not much disguised.

Svava. I presume you had some more definite errand with me?

Hoff. Yes, I had--but I think I will let it alone. You do not understand anything about this, I can see Perhaps you think I am a little crazy? I am not so sure you would not be right.

Svava. But there was something you wanted to say to me?

Hoff. Yes, there was. You see, these Kindergartens--

Svava. Oh, so it was them, all the time?

Hoff. No, it was not them. But they are responsible for my having for a long time thought very highly of you, Miss Riis. If you will excuse my saying so, I had never before seen fashionable young ladies trying to do anything useful--never. I am only a little broken-down tradesman travelling for a firm--a worthless sort of chap in many ways, and one that very likely deserves what he has got--but anyway I wanted you to be spared. Indeed thought it was my duty--absolutely my duty. But now when I see you sitting there before me--well, now I only I feel miserably unhappy. So I won't trouble you at all (Gets up.) Not at all.

Svava. I really cannot understand--

Hoff. Please don't bother about me! And please forgive my disturbing you.--No, you really must not give me another thought! Just imagine that I have not been here--that is all. (As he reaches the door, he meets ALFRED coming in. As soon as he sees that SVAVA is watching them, he goes hurriedly out. SVAVA sees the meeting between the two and gives a little scream, then rushes to meet ALFRED. But as soon as she is face to face with him, she seems terrified. As he comes nearer to take her in his arms she cries out: "Don't touch me!" and hurries out by the door on the left. She is heard locking and bolting it on the inside. Then a violent outburst of weeping is heard, the sound being somewhat deadened by the distance, but only for a few moments. Then the sound of singing is heard outside, and a few seconds later RIIS comes into the room. The curtain falls as he enters.)


ACT II


(SCENE.--The same as in Act I. SVAVA is lying on the couch to the right, resting her head on one hand, looking out towards the park. Her mother is sitting beside her.)

Mrs. Riis. Decisions as hasty as yours, Svava, are not really decisions at all. There is always a great deal more to be taken into consideration than one realises at first. Take time to think it over! I believe he is a fine fellow. Give him time to show it; don't break it off immediately!

Svava. Why do you keep on saying that to me?

Mrs. Riis. Well, dear, you know I have never had the chance of saying anything to you till to-day.

Svava. But you keep harping on that one string.

Mrs. Riis. What note do you want me to strike, then?

Svava. The note your dear good mother would have struck--quite a different one altogether.

Mrs. Riis. It is one thing to teach your child how to make a proper choice in life, but--

Svava. But quite another thing to put into practice what you teach?

Mrs. Riis. No; I was going to say that life itself is quite another thing. In daily life, and especially in married life, it is sometimes advisable to make allowances.

Svava. Yes, on points that do not really matter.

Mrs. Riis. Only on points that do not matter?

Svava. Yes--personal peculiarities, and things like that, which after all are only excrescences; but not on points that concern one's moral growth.

Mrs. Riis. Yes, on those points too.

Svava. On those points too?--But isn't it just for the sake of our own self-development that we marry? What else should we marry for?

Mrs. Riis. Oh, you will see!

Svava. No, indeed I shall not; because I do not intend to marry on such conditions.

Mrs. Riis. You should have said that sooner. It is too late now.

Svava (sitting upright). Too late? If I had been married twenty years, I would have done just the same! (Lies down again.)

Mrs. Riis. Heaven help you, then!--You haven't an idea, not the smallest idea, what a net you are entangled in! But you will find it out, as soon as you begin to struggle in earnest. Or do you really want your father and me to throw away all that we have worked for here?--to begin all over again in a foreign country? Because he has repeatedly said, during the last day or two, that he will not be mixed up in the scandal that would be the result of your breaking this off. He would go abroad, and I should have to go with him. Ah, you wince at the thought of that!--Think of all your friends, too. It is a serious matter to have been set on such an eminence as you were at your betrothal party. It is like being lifted up high on a platform that others are carrying on their shoulders; take care you do not fall down from it! That is what you will do, if you offend their principles of right behaviour.

Svava. Is that sort of thing a principle of right behaviour?

Mrs. Riis. I do not say that. But undoubtedly, one their principles of right behaviour--and perhaps the most important--is that all scandal must be avoided. No one relishes being disgraced, Svava--particularly the most influential people in a place. And least of all, by a long way, do people relish their own child being disgraced.

Svava (half raising herself). Good Lord! is it _I_ that am disgracing him?

Mrs. Riis. No, of course, it is he himself--

Svava. Very well, then! (Sinks down upon the couch again.)

Mrs. Riis. But you will never get them to understand that. I assure you, you won't. As long as what he has done is only whispered about in his family and amongst his intimate friends, they don't consider him disgraced at all. There are too many that do just the same. It is only when the knowledge of it becomes common property, that they consider it a disgrace. And if it became known that there was a formal breach between you--the Christensens' eldest son ignominiously refused because of his past life--they would consider it the most shocking scandal that could possibly overtake them! And we should feel the effect of it, in particular. And so would those that are dependent on us--and they are not so few in number, as you know, because you have interested yourself in them, particularly in the children. You would have t. give up all the interests you have made for Yourself here--because you would have to go with us. I am certain your father is in earnest about that.

Svava. Oh! Oh!

Mrs. Riis. I almost wish I could tell you why I am so certain of that. But I cannot--at all events not now. No, you must not tempt me to.--Here comes your father. Only take time to reflect, Svava! No breaking of it off, no scandal! (RIIS comes in from outside, with an opened letter in his hand.)

Riis. Oh, there you are! (Goes into his room, lays down his hat and stick, and comes out again.) You have taken no serious step yet, I hope--eh?

Mrs. Riis. No, but--

Riis. Very well. Now here is a letter from the Christensens. If you won't receive either your dance or his letters, you will have to put up with his family's interference in the matter. Everything must come to an end sooner or later. (Reads.) "My wife, my son and I will do ourselves the honour of paying you a visit between eleven and twelve o'clock." The only wonder is, that I have not had some such letter before this! I am sure they have been patient enough.

Mrs. Riis. Well, we have got no farther to-day, either.

Riis. What are you thinking of, child? Can't you see what it must all lead to? You are a good-hearted girl, I know--I am sure you don't want to ruin us all absolutely? I certainly consider, Svava, that you have acted quite severely enough now in this matter. They have suffered a nasty shock to their self-confidence, both of them; you may be quite sure of that. What more do you want? If you are really determined to carry the matter farther--well--make your conditions! There is no doubt they will be agreed to.

Svava. For shame! For shame!

Riis (despairingly). What is the use of taking it in this way!

Mrs. Riis. What, indeed! You ought rather to try and make things a bit easier, Svava.

Riis. And you really might condescend, too, to consider who it is that you are throwing over--a member of one of the richest families in the country, and, I venture to say, one of the most honourable too. I have never heard of anything so idiotic! Yes, I repeat--idiotic, idiotic! What if