The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 08 (of 11)

ACT FIRST.

Evening. Dr. Stockmann’s sitting-room; simply but neatly decorated and furnished. In the wall to the right are two doors, the further one leading to the hall, the nearer one to the Doctor’s study. In the opposite wall, facing the hall door, a door leading to the other rooms of the house. Against the middle of this wall stands the stove; further forward a sofa with a mirror above it, and in front of it an oval table with a cover. On the table a lighted lamp, with a shade. In the back wall an open door leading to the dining-room, in which is seen a supper-table, with a lamp on it.

Billing is seated at the supper-table, with a napkin under his chin. Mrs. Stockmann is standing by the table and placing before him a dish with a large joint of roast beef. The other seats round the table are empty; the table is in disorder, as after a meal.

If you come an hour late, Mr. Billing, you must put up with a cold supper.

[Eating.] It is excellent—really first rate.

You know how Stockmann insists on regular meal-hours——

Oh, I don’t mind at all. I almost think I enjoy my supper more when I can sit down to it like this, alone and undisturbed.

Oh, well, if you enjoy it—— [Listening in the direction of the hall.] I believe this is Mr. Hovstad coming too.

Very likely.

Good evening, sister-in-law.

[Coming forward into the sitting-room.] Oh, good evening; is it you? It is good of you to look in.

I was just passing, and so—— [Looks towards the drawing-room.] Ah, I see you have company.

[Rather embarrassed.] Oh no, not at all; it’s the merest chance. [Hurriedly.] Won’t you sit down and have a little supper?

I? No, thank you. Good gracious! hot meat in the evening! That wouldn’t suit my digestion.

Oh, for once in a way——

No, no,—much obliged to you. I stick to tea and bread and butter. It’s more wholesome in the long run—and rather more economical, too.

[Smiling.] You mustn’t think Thomas and I are mere spendthrifts, either.

You are not, sister-in-law; far be it from me to say that. [Pointing to the Doctor’s study.] Is he not at home?

No, he has gone for a little turn after supper—with the boys.

I wonder if that is a good thing to do? [Listening.] There he is, no doubt.

No, that is not he. [A knock.] Come in!

Ah, it’s Mr. Hovstad——

You must excuse me; I was detained at the printer’s. Good evening, Burgomaster.

[Bowing rather stiffly.] Mr. Hovstad? You come on business, I presume?

Partly. About an article for the paper.

So I supposed. I hear my brother is an extremely prolific contributor to the People’s Messenger.

Yes, when he wants to unburden his mind on one thing or another, he gives the Messenger the benefit.

[To Hovstad.] But will you not——? [Points to the dining-room.]

Well, well, I am far from blaming him for writing for the class of readers he finds most in sympathy with him. And, personally, I have no reason to bear your paper any ill-will, Mr. Hovstad.

No, I should think not.

One may say, on the whole, that a fine spirit of mutual tolerance prevails in our town—an excellent public spirit. And that is because we have a great common interest to hold us together—an interest in which all right-minded citizens are equally concerned——

Yes—the Baths.

Just so. We have our magnificent new Baths. Mark my words! The whole life of the town will centre around the Baths, Mr. Hovstad. There can be no doubt of it!

That is just what Thomas says.

How marvellously the place has developed, even in this couple of years! Money has come into circulation, and brought life and movement with it. Houses and ground-rents rise in value every day.

And there are fewer people out of work.

That is true. There is a gratifying diminution in the burden imposed on the well-to-do classes by the poor-rates; and they will be still further lightened if only we have a really good summer this year—a rush of visitors—plenty of invalids, to give the Baths a reputation.

I hear there is every prospect of that.

Things look most promising. Inquiries about apartments and so forth keep on pouring in.

Then the Doctor’s paper will come in very opportunely.

Has he been writing again?

This is a thing he wrote in the winter; enlarging on the virtues of the Baths, and on the excellent sanitary conditions of the town. But at that time I held it over.

Ah—I suppose there was something not quite judicious about it?

Not at all. But I thought it better to keep it till the spring, when people are beginning to look about them, and think of their summer quarters——

You were right, quite right, Mr. Hovstad.

Yes, Thomas is really indefatigable where the Baths are concerned.

It is his duty as one of the staff.

And of course he was really their creator.

Was he? Indeed! I gather that certain persons are of that opinion. But I should have thought that I, too, had a modest share in that undertaking.

Yes, that is what Thomas is always saying.

No one dreams of denying it, Burgomaster. You set the thing going, and put it on a practical basis; everybody knows that. I only meant that the original idea was the doctor’s.

Yes, my brother has certainly had ideas enough in his time—worse luck! But when it comes to realising them, Mr. Hovstad, we want men of another stamp. I should have thought that in this house at any rate——

Why, my dear brother-in-law——

Burgomaster, how can you——?

Do go in and have some supper, Mr. Hovstad; my husband is sure to be home directly.

Thanks; just a mouthful, perhaps.

[Speaking in a low voice.] It is extraordinary how people who spring direct from the peasant class never can get over their want of tact.

But why should you care? Surely you and Thomas can share the honour, like brothers.

Yes, one would suppose so; but it seems a share of the honour is not enough for some persons.

What nonsense! You and Thomas always get on so well together. [Listening.] There, I think I hear him.

[Laughing and talking loudly, without.] Here’s another visitor for you, Katrina. Isn’t it capital, eh? Come in, Captain Horster. Hang your coat on that peg. What! you don’t wear an overcoat? Fancy, Katrina, I caught him in the street, and I could hardly get him to come in.

[In the doorway.] In with you, boys. They’re famishing again! Come along, Captain Horster; you must try our roast beef——

But, Thomas, don’t you see——

[Turning round in the doorway.] Oh, is that you, Peter! [Goes up to him and holds out his hand.] Now this is really capital.

Unfortunately, I have only a moment to spare——

Nonsense! We shall have some toddy in a minute. You’re not forgetting the toddy, Katrina?

Of course not; the water’s boiling.

Toddy too——!

Yes; sit down, and let’s make ourselves comfortable.

Thanks; I never join in drinking parties.

But this isn’t a party.

I don’t know what else—— [Looks towards the dining-room.] It’s extraordinary how they can get through all that food.

[Rubbing his hands.] Yes, doesn’t it do one good to see young people eat? Always hungry! That’s as it should be. They need good, solid meat to put stamina into them! It is they that have got to whip up the ferment of the future, Peter.

May I ask what there is to be “whipped up,” as you call it?

You’ll have to ask the young people that—when the time comes. We shan’t see it, of course. Two old fogies like you and me——

Come, come! Surely that is a very extraordinary expression to use——

Oh, you mustn’t mind my nonsense, Peter. I'm in such glorious spirits, you see. I feel so unspeakably happy in the midst of all this growing, germinating life. Isn’t it a marvellous time we live in! It seems as though a whole new world were springing up around us.

Do you really think so?

Of course, you can’t see it as clearly as I do. You have passed your life in the midst of it all; and that deadens the impression. But I who had to vegetate all those years in that little hole in the north, hardly ever seeing a soul that could speak a stimulating word to me—all this affects me as if I had suddenly dropped into the heart of some teeming metropolis.

Well, metropolis——

Oh, I know well enough that things are on a small scale here, compared with many other places. But there’s life here—there’s promise—there’s an infinity of things to work and strive for; and that is the main point. [Calling.] Katrina, haven’t there been any letters?

[In the dining-room.] No, none at all.

And then a good income, Peter! That’s a thing one learns to appreciate when one has lived on starvation wages——

Good heavens——!

Oh yes, I can tell you we often had hard times of it up there. And now we can live like princes! To-day, for example, we had roast beef for dinner; and we’ve had some of it for supper too. Won’t you have some? Come along—just look at it, at any rate——

No, no; certainly not——

Well then, look here—do you see we’ve bought a table-cover?

Yes, so I observed.

And a lamp-shade, too. Do you see? Katrina has been saving up for them. They make the room look comfortable, don’t they? Come over here. No, no, no, not there. So—yes! Now you see how it concentrates the light——. I really think it has quite an artistic effect. Eh?

Yes, when one can afford such luxuries——

Oh, I can afford it now. Katrina says I make almost as much as we spend.

Ah—almost!

Besides, a man of science must live in some style. Why, I believe a mere sheriff^[7] spends much more a year than I do.

Yes, I should think so! A member of the superior magistracy——

Well then, even a common shipowner! A man of that sort will get through many times as much——

That is natural, in your relative positions.

And after all, Peter, I really don’t squander any money. But I can’t deny myself the delight of having people about me. I must have them. After living so long out of the world, I find it a necessity of life to have bright, cheerful, freedom-loving, hard-working young fellows around me—and that’s what they are, all of them, that are sitting there eating so heartily. I wish you knew more of Hovstad——

Ah, that reminds me—Hovstad was telling me that he is going to publish another article of yours.

An article of mine?

Yes, about the Baths. An article you wrote last winter.

Oh, that one! But I don’t want that to appear for the present.

Why not? It seems to me this is the very time for it.

Very likely—under ordinary circumstances——

[Following him with his eyes.] And what is unusual in the circumstances now?

[Standing still.] The fact is, Peter, I really cannot tell you just now; not this evening, at all events. There may prove to be a great deal that is unusual in the circumstances. On the other hand, there may be nothing at all. Very likely it’s only my fancy.

Upon my word, you are very enigmatical. Is there anything in the wind? Anything I am to be kept in the dark about? I should think, as Chairman of the Bath Committee——

And I should think that I——Well, well, don’t let us get our backs up, Peter.

God forbid! I am not in the habit of “getting my back up,” as you express it. But I must absolutely insist that all arrangements shall be made and carried out in a businesslike manner, and through the properly constituted authorities. I cannot be a party to crooked or underhand courses.

Have I ever been given to crooked or underhand courses?

At any rate you have an ingrained propensity to taking your own course. And that, in a well-ordered community, is almost as inadmissible. The individual must subordinate himself to society, or, more precisely, to the authorities whose business it is to watch over the welfare of society.

Maybe. But what the devil has that to do with me?

Why this is the very thing, my dear Thomas, that it seems you will never learn. But take care; you will have to pay for it—sooner or later. Now I have warned you. Good-bye.

Are you stark mad? You’re on a totally wrong track——

I am not often on the wrong track. Moreover, I must protest against——[Bowing towards dining-room.] Good-bye, sister-in-law; good-day to you, gentlemen.

[Entering the sitting-room.] Has he gone?

Yes, and in a fine temper, too.

Why, my dear Thomas, what have you been doing to him now?

Nothing at all. He can’t possibly expect me to account to him for everything—before the time comes.

What have you to account to him for?

H'm;—never mind about that, Katrina.—It’s very odd the postman doesn’t come.

[Stretching himself.] Ah! Strike me dead if one doesn’t feel a new man after such a meal.

The Burgomaster didn’t seem in the best of tempers this evening.

That’s his stomach. He has a very poor digestion.

I fancy it’s the staff of the Messenger he finds it hardest to stomach.

I thought you got on well enough with him.

Oh, yes; but it’s only a sort of armistice between us.

That’s it. That word sums up the situation.

We must remember that Peter is a lonely bachelor, poor devil! He has no home to be happy in; only business, business. And then all that cursëd weak tea he goes and pours down his throat! Now then, chairs round the table, boys! Katrina, shan’t we have the toddy now?

[Going towards the dining-room.] I am just getting it.

And you, Captain Horster, sit beside me on the sofa. So rare a guest as you——. Sit down, gentlemen, sit down.

Here you have it: here’s arrak, and this is rum, and this cognac. Now, help yourselves.

[Taking a glass.] So we will. [While the toddy is being mixed.] And now out with the cigars. Eilif, I think you know where the box is. And Morten, you may fetch my pipe. [The boys go into the room on the right.] I have a suspicion that Eilif sneaks a cigar now and then, but I pretend not to notice. [Calls.] And my smoking-cap, Morten! Katrina, can’t you tell him where I left it. Ah, he’s got it. [The boys bring in the things.] Now, friends, help yourselves. I stick to my pipe, you know;—this one has been on many a stormy journey with me, up there in the north. [They clink glasses.] Your health! Ah, I can tell you it’s better fun to sit cosily here, safe from wind and weather.

[Who sits knitting.] Do you sail soon, Captain Horster?

I hope to be ready for a start by next week.

And you’re going to America?

Yes, that’s the intention.

But then you’ll miss the election of the new Town Council.

Is there to be an election again?

Didn’t you know?

No, I don’t trouble myself about those things.

But I suppose you take an interest in public affairs?

No, I don’t understand anything about them.

All the same, one ought at least to vote.vote.

Even those who don’t understand anything about it?

Understand? Why, what do you mean by that? Society is like a ship: every man must put his hand to the helm.

That may be all right on shore; but at sea it wouldn’t do at all.

It’s remarkable how little sailors care about public affairs as a rule.

Most extraordinary.

Sailors are like birds of passage; they are at home both in the south and in the north. So it behoves the rest of us to be all the more energetic, Mr. Hovstad. Will there be anything of public interest in the People’s Messenger to-morrow?

Nothing of local interest. But the day after to-morrow I think of printing your article——

Oh confound it, that article! No, you’ll have to hold it over.

Hovstad.

Really? We happen to have plenty of space, and I should say this was the very time for it——

Yes, yes, you may be right; but you must hold it over all the same. I shall explain to you by-and-by.