[She goes into the house; Falk remains motionless, looking after her; far out on the fjord is seen a boat, from which the following chorus is faintly heard:
Chorus.
My wings I open, my sails spread wide,
And cleave like an eagle life’s glassy tide;
Gulls follow my furrow’s foaming;
Overboard with the ballast of care and cark;
And what if I shatter my roaming bark,
It is passing sweet to be roaming!
Falk [starting from a reverie].
What, music? Ah, it will be Lind’s quartette
Getting their jubilation up.—Well met!
[To Guldstad, who enters with an overcoat on his arm.
Ah, slipping off, sir?
Guldstad.
Yes, with your goodwill.
But let me first put on my overcoat.
We prose-folks are susceptible to chill;
The night wind takes us by the tuneless throat.
Good evening!
Falk.
Sir, a word ere you proceed!
Show me a task, a mighty one, you know—!
I’m going in for life—!
Guldstad [with ironical emphasis].
Well, in you go!
You’ll find that you are in for it, indeed.
Falk [looking reflectively at him, says slowly].
There is my program, furnished in a phrase.
[In a lively outburst.
Now I have wakened from my dreaming days,
I’ve cast the die of life’s supreme transaction,
I’ll show you—else the devil take me—
Guldstad.
Fie,
No cursing: curses never scared a fly.
Falk.
Words, words, no more, but action, only action!
I will reverse the plan of the Creation;—
Six days were lavish’d in that occupation;
My world’s still lying void and desolate,
Hurrah, to-morrow, Sunday—I’ll create!
Guldstad [laughing].
Yes, strip, and tackle it like a man, that’s right!
But first go in and sleep on it. Good-night!
[Goes out to the left. Svanhild appears in the room over the verandah; she shuts the window and draws down the blind.
Falk.
No, first I’ll act. I’ve slept too long and late.
[Looks up at Svanhild’s window, and exclaims, as if seized with a sudden resolution:
Good-night! Good-night! Sweet dreams to-night be thine;
To-morrow, Svanhild, thou art plighted mine!
[Goes out quickly to the right; from the water the Chorus is heard again.
Chorus.
Maybe I shall shatter my roaming bark,
But it’s passing sweet to be roaming!
[The boat slowly glides away as the curtain falls.
ACT SECOND.
Sunday afternoon. Well-dressed ladies and gentlemen are drinking coffee on the verandah. Several of the guests appear through the open glass door in the garden-room; the following song is heard from within.
Chorus.
Welcome, welcome, new plighted pair
To the merry ranks of the plighted!
Now you may revel as free as air,
Caress without stint and kiss without care,—
No longer of footfall affrighted.
Now you are licensed, wherever you go,
To the rapture of cooing and billing;
Now you have leisure love’s seed to sow,
Water, and tend it, and make it grow;—
Let us see you’ve a talent for tilling!
Miss Jay [within].
Ah Lind, if I only had chanced to hear,
I would have teased you!
A Lady [within].
How vexatious though!
Another Lady [in the doorway].
Dear Anna, did he ask in writing?
An Aunt.
No!
Miss Jay.
Mine did.
A Lady [on the verandah].
How long has it been secret, dear?
[Runs into the room.
Miss Jay.
To-morrow there will be the ring to choose.
Ladies [eagerly].
We’ll take his measure!
Miss Jay.
Nay; that she must do.
Mrs. Strawman [on the verandah, to a lady who is busy with embroidery].
What kind of knitting-needles do you use?
A Servant [in the door with a coffee-pot].
More coffee, madam?
A Lady.
Thanks, a drop or two.
Miss Jay [to Anna].
How fortunate you’ve got your new manteau
Next week to go your round of visits in!
An Elderly Lady [at the window].
When shall we go and order the trousseau?
Mrs. Strawman.
How are they selling cotton-bombasine?
A Gentleman [to some ladies on the verandah].
Just look at Lind and Anna; what’s his sport?
Ladies [with shrill ecstasy].
Gracious, he kissed her glove!
Others [similarly, springing up].
No! Kiss’d it? Really?
Lind [appears, red and embarrassed, in the doorway].
O, stuff and nonsense!
[Disappears.
Miss Jay.
Yes, I saw it clearly.
Stiver
[in the door, with a coffee-cup in one hand and a biscuit in the other].
The witnesses must not mislead the court;
I here make affidavit, they’re in error.
Miss Jay [within].
Come forward, Anna; stand before this mirror!
Some Ladies [calling].
You, too, Lind!
Miss Jay.
Back to back! A little nearer!
Ladies.
Come, let us see by how much she is short.
[All run into the garden-room; laughter and shrill talk are heard for a while from within.
[Falk, who during the preceding scene has been walking about in the garden, advances into the foreground, stops and looks in until the noise has somewhat abated.
Falk.
There love’s romance is being done to death.—
The butcher once who boggled at the slaughter,
Prolonging needlessly the ox’s breath,—
He got his twenty days of bread and water;
But these—these butchers yonder—they go
free. [Clenches his fist.
I could be tempted—; hold, words have no worth,
I’ve sworn it, action only from henceforth!
Lind [coming hastily but cautiously out].
Thank God, they’re talking fashions; now’s my chance
To slip away—
Falk.
Ha, Lind, you’ve drawn the prize
Of luck,—-congratulations buzz and dance
All day about you, like a swarm of flies.
Lind.
They’re all at heart so kindly and so nice;
But rather fewer clients would suffice.
Their helping hands begin to gall and fret me;
I’ll get a moment’s respite, if they’ll let me.
[Going out to the right.
Falk.
Whither away?
Lind.
Our den;—it has a lock;
In case you find the oak is sported, knock.
Falk.
But shall I not fetch Anna to you?
Lind.
No—
If she wants anything, she’ll let me know.
Last night we were discussing until late;
We’ve settled almost everything of weight;
Besides I think it scarcely goes with piety
To have too much of one’s beloved’s society.
Falk.
Yes, you are right; for daily food we need
A simple diet.
Lind.
Pray excuse me, friend.
I want a whiff of reason and the weed;
I haven’t smoked for three whole days on end.
My blood was pulsing in such agitation,
I trembled for rejection all the time—
Falk.
Yes, you may well desire recuperation—
Lind.
And won’t tobacco’s flavour be sublime!
[Goes out to the right. Miss Jay and some other Ladies come out of the garden-room.
Miss Jay [to Falk].
That was he surely?
Falk.
Yes, your hunted deer.
Ladies.
To run away from us!
Others.
For shame! For shame!
Falk.
’Tis a bit shy at present, but, no fear,
A week of servitude will make him tame.
Miss Jay [looking round].
Where is he hid?
Falk.
His present hiding-place
Is in the garden loft, our common lair;
[Blandly.
But let me beg you not to seek him there;
Give him a breathing time!
Miss Jay.
Well, good: the grace
Will not be long, tho’.
Falk.
Nay, be generous!
Ten minutes,—then begin the game again.
He has an English sermon on the brain.
Miss Jay.
An English—?
Ladies.
O you laugh! You’re fooling us!
Falk.
I’m in grim earnest. ’Tis his fixed intention
To take a charge among the emigrants,
And therefore—
Miss Jay [with horror].
Heavens, he had the face to mention
That mad idea?
[To the ladies.
O quick—fetch all the aunts!
Anna, her mother, Mrs. Strawman too.
Ladies [agitated].
This must be stopped!
All.
We’ll make a great ado!
Miss Jay.
Thank God, they’re coming.
[To Anna, who comes from the garden-room with Strawman, his wife and children, Stiver, Guldstad, Mrs. Halm and the other guests.
Miss Jay.
Do you know what Lind
Has secretly determined in his mind?
To go as missionary—
Anna.
Yes, I know.
Mrs. Halm.
And you’ve agreed—!
Anna [embarrassed].
That I will also go.
Miss Jay [indignant].
He’s talked this stuff to you!
Ladies [clasping their hands together].
What tyranny!
Falk.
But think, his Call that would not be denied—!
Miss Jay.
Tut, that’s what people follow when they’re free:
A bridegroom follows nothing but his bride.—
No, my sweet Anna, ponder, I entreat:
You, reared in comfort from your earliest breath—?
Falk.
Yet, sure, to suffer for the faith is sweet!
Miss Jay.
Is one to suffer for one’s bridegroom’s faith?
That is a rather novel point of view.
[To the ladies.
Ladies, attend!
[Takes Anna’s arm.
Now listen; then repeat
For his instruction what he has to do.
[They go into the background and out to the right in eager talk with several of the ladies; the other guests disperse in groups about the garden. Falk stops Strawman, whose wife and children keep close to him. Guldstad goes to and fro during the following conversation.
Falk.
Come, pastor, help young fervour in its fight,
Before they lure Miss Anna from her vows.
Strawman [in clerical cadence].
The wife must be submissive to the spouse;—
[Reflecting.
But if I apprehended him aright,
His Call’s a problematical affair,
The Offering altogether in the air—
Falk.
Pray do not judge so rashly. I can give
You absolute assurance, as I live,
His Call is definite and incontestable—
Strawman [seeing it in a new light].
Ah—if there’s something fixed—investable—
Per annum—then I’ve nothing more to say.
Falk [impatiently].
You think the most of what I count the least;
I mean the inspiration,—not the pay!
Strawman [with an unctuous smile].
Pay is the first condition of a priest
In Asia, Africa, America,
Or where you will. Ah yes, if he were free,
My dear young friend, I willingly agree,
The thing might pass; but, being pledged and bound,
He’ll scarcely find the venture very sound.
Reflect, he’s young and vigorous, sure to found
A little family in time; assume his will
To be the very best on earth—but still
The means, my friend—? ‘Build not upon the sand,’
Says Scripture. If, upon the other hand,
The Offering—
Falk.
That’s no trifle, I’m aware.
Strawman.
Ah, come—that wholly alters the affair.
When men are zealous in their Offering,
And liberal—
Falk.
There he far surpasses most.
Strawman.
“He” say you? How? In virtue of his post
The Offering is not what he has to bring
But what he has to get.
Mrs. Strawman [looking towards the background].
They’re sitting there.
Falk [after staring a moment in amazement, suddenly understands and bursts out laughing].
Hurrah for Offerings—the ones that caper
And strut—on Holy-days—in bulging paper!
Strawman.
All the year round the curb and bit we bear,
But Whitsuntide and Christmas make things square.
Falk [gaily].
Why then, provided only there’s enough of it,
Even family-founders will obey their Calls.
Strawman.
Of course; a man assured the quantum suff of it
Will preach the Gospel to the cannibals.
[Sotto voce.
Now I must see if she cannot be led,
[To one of the little girls.
My little Mattie, fetch me out my head—
My pipe-head I should say, my little dear—
[Feels in his coat-tail pocket.
Nay, wait a moment tho’: I have it here.
[Goes across and fills his pipe, followed by his wife and children.
Guldstad [approaching].
You seem to play the part of serpent in
This paradise of lovers.
Falk.
O, the pips
Upon the tree of knowledge are too green
To be a lure for anybody’s lips.
[To Lind, who comes in from the right.
Ha, Lind!
Lind.
In heaven’s name, who’s been ravaging
Our sanctum? There the lamp lies dashed
To pieces, curtain dragged to floor, pen smashed,
And on the mantelpiece the ink pot splashed—
Falk [clapping him on the shoulder].
This wreck’s the first announcement of my spring;
No more behind drawn curtains I will sit,
Making pen poetry with lamp alit;
My dull domestic poetising’s done,
I’ll walk by day, and glory in the sun:
My spring is come, my soul has broken free,
Action henceforth shall be my poetry.
Lind.
Make poetry of what you please for me;
But how if Mrs. Halm should take amiss
Your breaking of her furniture to pieces?
Falk.
What!—she, who lays her daughters and her nieces
Upon the altar of her boarders’ bliss,—
She frown at such a bagatelle as this?
Lind [angrily].
It’s utterly outrageous and unfair,
And compromises me as well as you!
But that’s her business, settle it with her.
The lamp was mine, tho’, shade and burner too—
Falk.
Tut, on that head, I’ve no account to render;
You have God’s summer sunshine in its splendour,—
What would you with the lamp?
Lind.
You are grotesque;
You utterly forget that summer passes;
If I’m to make a figure in my classes
At Christmas I must buckle to my desk.
Falk [staring at him].
What, you look forward?
Lind.
To be sure I do,
The examination’s amply worth it too.
Falk.
Ah but—you ‘only sit and live’—remember!
Drunk with the moment, you demand no more—
Not even a modest third-class next December.
You’ve caught the bird of Fortune fair and fleet,
You feel as if the world with all its store
Were scattered in profusion at your feet.