The Red Room - August Strindberg (best summer reads TXT) 📗

From the dark cloud of humanity which had been rent by Olle’s exit, suddenly broke a face, clear, bright and radiant as the sun, and Arvid Falk, whose glances had strayed to the gallery, felt compelled to cast down his eyes and turn away his head⁠—he had recognized his brother, the head of the family, the pride of the name, which he intended to make great and honourable. Behind Nicholas Falk’s shoulder half of a black face could be seen, gentle and deceitful, which seemed to whisper secrets into the ear of the fair man. Falk had only time to be surprised at his brother’s presence⁠—he knew his resentment at the new form of administration⁠—for the president had given Anders Andersson permission to state a proposition. Andersson availed himself of the permission with the greatest calm. “In view of certain events,” he read, “move that a Bill should be passed making his Majesty jointly and severally liable for all joint-stock companies whose statutes he has sanctioned.”

The sun on the strangers’ gallery lost its brilliancy and a storm burst out in the Chamber.

Like a flash Count Splint was on his legs:

Applause from the strangers’ gallery; indignation in the Chamber.

“Quosque tandem, Catilina! It has come to that! Members are forgetting themselves so far as to dare to criticize government! Yes, gentlemen, criticize government, or, what is even worse, make a joke of it; for this motion cannot be anything but a vulgar joke. Did I say joke? It is treason! Oh! My poor country! Your unworthy sons have forgotten the debt they owe you! But what else can we expect, now, that you have lost your knightly guard, your shield and your arms! I request the blackguard Per Andersson, or whatever his name may be, to withdraw his motion or, by Gad! he shall see that King and country still have loyal servants, able to pick up a stone and fling it at the head of the many-headed hydra of treason.”

“Ha! Do you think I’m afraid?”

The speaker made a gesture as if he were throwing a stone, but on every one of the hydra’s hundred faces lay a smile. Glaring round, in search of a hydra which did not smile, the speaker discovered it in the reporters’ gallery.

“There! There!”

He pointed to the pigeon house and in his eyes lay an expression as if he saw all hell open.

“That’s the crows’ nest! I hear their croaking, but it doesn’t frighten me! Arise, men of Sweden! Cut off the tree, saw through the boards, pull down the beams, kick the chairs to pieces, break the desks into fragments, small as my little finger⁠—he held it up⁠—and then burn the blackguards until nothing of them is left. Then the kingdom will flourish in peace and its institutions will thrive. Thus speaks a Swedish nobleman! Peasants, remember his words!”

This speech which three years ago would have been welcomed with acclamations, taken down verbatim and printed and circulated in national schools and other charitable institutions, was received with universal laughter. An amended version was placed on the record and, strange to say, it was only reported by the opposition papers which do not, as a rule, care to publish outbursts of this description.

The Upsala bench again craved permission to speak. The speaker quite agreed with the last speaker; his acute ear had caught something of the old rattling of swords. He would like to say a few words. He would like to speak of the idea of a joint-stock company as an idea, but begged to be allowed to explain to the Chamber that a joint-stock company was not an accumulation of funds, not a combination of people, but a moral personality, and as such not responsible.⁠ ⁠…

Shouts of laughter and loud conversation prevented the reporters from hearing the remainder of the argument, which closed with the remark that the interests of the country were at stake, conformable to the idea, and that, if the motion were rejected the interests of the country would be neglected and the State in danger.

Six speakers filled up the interval until dinnertime by giving extracts from the official statistics of Sweden, Nauman’s Fundamental Statutes, the Legal Textbook and the Göteberg Commercial Gazette: the conclusion invariably arrived at was that the country was in danger if his Majesty were to be jointly and severally liable for all joint-stock companies the statutes of which he had sanctioned; and that the interests of the whole country were at stake. One of the speakers was bold enough to say that the interests of the country stood on a throw of the dice; others were of the opinion that they stood on a card, others again that they hung on a thread; the last speaker said they hung on a hair.

At noon the proposition to go into Committee on the motion was rejected; that was to say, there was no need for the country to go through the Committee-mill, the office-sieve, the Imperial chaff-cutter, the club-winnower and the newspaper-hubbub. The country was saved. Poor country!

Some time after Arvid Falk’s first experience as a reporter Charles Nicholas Falk and his beloved wife were sitting at the breakfast table. He was, contrary to his custom, not in dressing-gown and slippers, and his wife was wearing an expensive morning-gown.

“Yes, they were all here yesterday,” said Mrs. Falk, laughing gaily, “all five of them, and they were extremely sorry about the matter.”

“I wish the deuce.⁠ ⁠…”

“Nicholas, remember you are no longer standing behind the counter.”

“What am I to say then if I lose my temper?”

“One doesn’t lose one’s temper, one gets annoyed! And it’s permissible to say: ‘It’s very extraordinary!’ ”

“Very well, then, it’s very extraordinary that you have always something unpleasant up your sleeve. Why can’t you refrain from telling me things you know will irritate me?”

“Vex you, old man! You expect me to keep my vexations to myself; but you lie⁠—”

“Lay, old girl!”

“I say lie your burdens on