Sitting-room at Rosmersholm; spacious, old-fashioned, and comfortable. In front, on the right, a stove decked with fresh birch-branches and wild flowers. Farther back, on the same side, a door. In the back wall, folding-doors opening into the hall. To the left, a window, and before it a stand with flowers and plants. Beside the stove a table with a sofa and easy chairs. On the walls, old and more recent portraits of clergymen, officers, and government officials in uniform. The window is open; so are the door into the hall and the house door beyond. Outside can be seen an avenue of fine old trees, leading up to the house. It is a summer evening, after sunset.
Rebecca West is sitting in an easy-chair by the window, and crocheting a large white woollen shawl, which is nearly finished. She now and then looks out expectantly through the leaves of the plants. Madam Helseth presently enters from the right.
I suppose I had better begin to lay the table, Miss?
Yes, please do. The Pastor must soon be in now.
Don’t you feel the draught, Miss, where you’re sitting?
Yes, there is a little draught. Perhaps you had better shut the window.
[Madam Helseth shuts the door into the hall, and then comes to the window.
[About to shut the window, looks out.] Why, isn’t that the Pastor over there?
[Hastily.] Where? [Rises.] Yes, it is he. [Behind the curtain.] Stand aside—don’t let him see us.
[Keeping back from the window.] Only think, Miss—he’s beginning to take the path by the mill again.
He went that way the day before yesterday too. [Peeps out between the curtains and the window-frame.] But let us see whether——
Will he venture across the foot-bridge?
That is what I want to see. [After a pause.] No, he is turning. He is going by the upper road again. [Leaves the window.] A long way round.
Dear Lord, yes. No wonder the Pastor thinks twice about setting foot on that bridge. A place where a thing like that has happened——
[Folding up her work.] They cling to their dead here at Rosmersholm.
Now I would say, Miss, that it’s the dead that clings to Rosmersholm.
[Looks at her.] The dead?
Yes, it’s almost as if they couldn’t tear themselves away from the folk that are left.
What makes you fancy that?
Well, if it wasn’t for that, there would be no White Horse, I suppose.
Now what is all this about the White Horse, Madam Helseth?
Oh, I don’t like to talk about it. And, besides, you don’t believe in such things.
Do you believe in it, then?
[Goes and shuts the window.] Oh, you’d only be for laughing at me, Miss. [Looks out.] Why, isn’t that Mr. Rosmer on the mill-path again——?
[Looks out.] That man there? [Goes to the window.] No, that’s the Rector!
Yes, so it is.
This is delightful. You may be sure he’s coming here.
He goes straight over the foot-bridge, he does. And yet she was his sister, his own flesh and blood. Well, I’ll go and lay the table then, Miss West.
[She goes out to the right. Rebecca stands at the window for a short time; then smiles and nods to some one outside. It begins to grow dark.
[Goes to the door on the right.] Oh, Madam Helseth, you might let us have some little extra dish for supper. You know what the Rector likes best.
[Outside.] Oh yes, Miss, I’ll see to it.
[Opens the door to the hall.] At last—! How glad I am to see you, my dear Rector.
[In the hall, laying down his stick.] Thanks. Then I am not disturbing you?
You? How can you ask?
[Comes in.] Amiable as ever. [Looks round.] Is Rosmer upstairs in his room?
No, he is out walking. He has stayed out rather longer than usual; but he is sure to be in directly. [Motioning him to sit on the sofa.] Won’t you sit down till he comes?
[Laying down his hat.] Many thanks. [Sits down and looks about him.] Why, how you have brightened up the old room! Flowers everywhere!
Mr. Rosmer is so fond of having fresh, growing flowers about him.
And you are too, are you not?
Yes; they have a delightfully soothing effect on me. We had to do without them though, till lately.
[Nods sadly.] Yes, their scent was too much for poor Beata.
Their colours, too. They quite bewildered her——
I remember, I remember. [In a lighter tone.] Well, how are things going out here?
Oh, everything is going its quiet, jog-trot way. One day is just like another.—And with you? Your wife——?
Ah, my dear Miss West, don’t let us talk about my affairs. There is always something or other amiss in a family; especially in times like these.
[After a pause, sitting down in an easy-chair beside the sofa.] How is it you haven’t once been near us during the whole of the holidays?
Oh, it doesn’t do to make oneself a nuisance——
If you knew how we have missed you——
And then I have been away——
Yes, for the last week or two. We have heard of you at political meetings.
[Nods.] Yes, what do you say to that? Did you think I would turn political agitator in my old age, eh?
[Smiling.] Well, you have always been a bit of an agitator, Rector Kroll.
Why yes, just for my private amusement. But henceforth it is to be no laughing matter, I can tell you.—Do you ever see those radical newspapers?
Well yes, my dear Rector, I can’t deny that——
My dear Miss West, I have nothing to say against it—nothing in your case.
No, surely not. One likes to know what’s going on—to keep up with the time——
And of course I should not think of expecting you, as a woman, to side actively with either party in the civil contest—I might almost say the civil war—that is raging among us.—But you have seen then, I suppose, how these gentlemen of “the people” have been pleased to treat me? What infamous abuse they have had the audacity to heap on me?
Yes; but it seems to me you gave as good as you got.
So I did, though I say it that shouldn’t. For now I have tasted blood; and they shall soon find to their cost that I am not the man to turn the other cheek——[Breaks off.] But come come—don’t let us get upon that subject this evening—it’s too painful and irritating.
Oh no, don’t let us talk of it.
Tell me now—how do you get on at Rosmersholm, now that you are alone. Since our poor Beata——
Thank you, I get on very well. Of course one feels a great blank in many ways—a great sorrow and longing. But otherwise——
And do you think of remaining here?—permanently, I mean.
My dear Rector, I really haven’t thought about it, one way or the other. I have got so used to the place now, that I feel almost as if I belonged to it.
Why, of course you belong to it.
And so long as Mr. Rosmer finds that I am of any use or comfort to him—why, so long, I suppose, I shall stay here.
[Looks at her with emotion.] Do you know,—it is really fine for a woman to sacrifice her whole youth to others as you have done.
Oh, what else should I have had to live for?
First, there was your untiring devotion to your paralytic and exacting foster-father——
You mustn’t suppose that Dr. West was such a charge when we were up in Finmark. It was those terrible boat-voyages up there that broke him down. But after we came here—well yes, the two years before he found rest were certainly hard enough.
And the years that followed—were they not even harder for you?
Oh how can you say such a thing? When I was so fond of Beata—and when she, poor dear, stood so sadly in need of care and forbearance.
How good it is of you to think of her with so much kindness!
[Moves a little nearer.] My dear Rector, you say that with such a ring of sincerity that I cannot think there is any ill-feeling lurking in the background.
Ill-feeling? Why, what do you mean?
Well, it would be only natural if you felt it painful to see a stranger managing the household here at Rosmersholm.
Why, how on earth——!
But you have no such feeling? [Takes his hand.] Thanks, my dear Rector; thank you again and again.
How on earth did you get such an idea into your head?
I began to be a little afraid when your visits became so rare.
Then you have been on a totally wrong scent, Miss West. Besides—after all, there has been no essential change. Even while poor Beata was alive—in her last unhappy days—it was you, and you alone, that managed everything.
That was only a sort of regency in Beata’s name.
Be that as it may——. Do you know, Miss West—for my part, I should have no objection whatever if you——. But I suppose I mustn’t say such a thing.
What must you not say?
If matters were to shape so that you took the empty place——
I have the only place I want, Rector.
In fact, yes; but not in——
[Interrupting gravely.] For shame, Rector Kroll. How can you joke about such things?
Oh well, our good Johannes Rosmer very likely thinks he has had more than enough of married life already. But nevertheless——
You are really too absurd, Rector.
Nevertheless——. Tell me, Miss West—if you will forgive the question—what is your age?
I’m sorry to say I am over nine-and-twenty, Rector; I am in my thirtieth year.
Indeed. And Rosmer—how old is he? Let me see: he is five years younger than I am, so that makes him well over forty-three.forty-three. I think it would be most suitable.
[Rises.] Of course, of course; most suitable.—Will you stay to supper this evening?
Yes, many thanks; I thought of staying. There is a matter I want to discuss with our good friend.—And I suppose, Miss West, in case you should take fancies into your head again, I had better come out pretty often for the future—as I used to in the old days.
Oh yes, do—do. [Shakes both his hands.] Many thanks—how kind and good you are!
[Gruffly.] Am I? Well, that’s not what they tell me at home.
Mr. Rosmer, do you see who is here?
Madam Helseth told me.
[Gently and softly, pressing his hands.] Welcome back to this house, my dear Kroll. [Lays his hands on Kroll’s shoulders and looks into his eyes.] My dear old friend! I knew that sooner or later things would come all right between us.
Why, my dear fellow—do you mean to say you too have been so foolish as to fancy there was anything wrong?
[To Rosmer.] Yes, only think,—it was nothing but fancy after all!
Is that really the case, Kroll? Then why did you desert us so entirely?
[Gravely, in a low voice.] Because my presence would always have been reminding you of the years of your unhappiness, and of—the life that ended in the mill-race.
Well, it was a kind thought—you were always considerate. But it was quite unnecessary to remain away on that account.—Come, sit here on the sofa. [They sit down.] No, I assure you, the thought of Beata has no pain for me. We speak of her every day. We feel almost as if she were still one of the household.
Do you really?
[Lighting the lamp.] Yes, indeed we do.
It is quite natural. We were both so deeply attached to her. And both Rebec—both Miss West and I know that we did all that was possible for her in her affliction. We have nothing to reproach ourselves with.—So I feel nothing but a tranquil tenderness now at the thought of Beata.
You dear, good people! Henceforward, I declare I shall come out and see you every day.
[Seats herself in an arm chair.] Mind, we shall expect you to keep your word.
[With some hesitation.] My dear Kroll—I wish very much that our intercourse had never been interrupted. Ever since we have known each other, you have seemed predestined to be my adviser—ever since I went to the University.
Yes, and I have always been proud of the office. But is there anything particular just now——?
There are many things that I would give a great deal to talk over with you, quite frankly—straight from the heart.
Ah yes, Mr. Rosmer—that must be such a comfort—between old friends——
Oh I can tell you I have still more to talk to you about. I suppose you know I have turned a militant politician?
Yes, so you have. How did that come about?
I was forced into it in spite of myself. It is impossible to stand idly looking on any longer. Now that the Radicals have unhappily come into power, it is high time something should be done,—so I have got our little group of friends in the town to close up their ranks. I tell you it is high time!
[With a faint smile.] Don’t you think it may even be a little late?
Unquestionably it would have been better if we had checked the stream at an earlier point in its course. But who could foresee what was going to happen? Certainly not I. [Rises and walks up and down.] But now I have had my eyes opened once for all; for now the spirit of revolt has crept into the school itself.
Into the school? Surely not into your school?
I tell you it has—into my own school. What do you think? It has come to my knowledge that the sixth-form boys—a number of them at any rate—have been keeping up a secret society for over six months; and they take in Mortensgård’s paper!
The “Beacon”?
Yes; nice mental sustenance for future government officials, is it not? But the worst of it is that it’s all the cleverest boys in the form that have banded together in this conspiracy against me. Only the dunces at the bottom of the class have kept out of it.
Do you take this so very much to heart, Rector?
Do I take it to heart! To be so thwarted and opposed in the work of my whole life! [Lower.] But I could almost say I don’t care about the school—for there is worse behind. [Looks round.] I suppose no one can hear us?
Oh no, of course not.
Well then, I must tell you that dissension and revolt have crept into my own house—into my own quiet home. They have destroyed the peace of my family life.
[Rises.] What! Into your own house——?
[Goes over to the Rector.] My dear Rector, what has happened?
Would you believe that my own children——In short, it is Laurits that is the ringleader of the school conspiracy; and Hilda has embroidered a red portfolio to keep the “Beacon” in.
I should certainly never have dreamt that, in your own house——
No, who would have dreamt of such a thing? In my house, the very home of obedience and order—where one will, and one only, has always prevailed——
How does your wife take all this?
Why, that is the most incredible part of it. My wife, who all her life long has shared my opinions and concurred in my views, both in great things and small—she is actually inclined to side with the children on many points. And she blames me for what has happened. She says I tyrannise over the children. As if it weren’t necessary to——. Well, you see how my house is divided against itself. But of course I say as little about it as possible. Such things are best kept quiet. [Wanders up the room.] Ah, well, well, well.
[Stands at the window with his hands behind his back, and looks out.
[Comes up close to Rosmer, and says rapidly and in a low voice, so that the Rector does not hear her.] Do it now!
[Also in a low voice.] Not this evening.
[As before.] Yes, just this evening.
[Goes to the table and busies herself with the lamp.
[Comes forward.] Well, my dear Rosmer, now you know how the spirit of the age has overshadowed both my domestic and my official life. And am I to refrain from combating this pernicious, subversive, anarchic spirit, with any weapon I can lay my hands on? Fight it I will, trust me for that; both with tongue and pen.
Have you any hope of stemming the tide in that way?
At any rate I shall have done my duty as a citizen in defence of the State. And I hold it the duty of every right-minded man with an atom of patriotism to do likewise. In fact—that was my principal reason for coming out here this evening.
Why, my dear Kroll, what do you mean——? What can I——?
You can stand by your old friends. Do as we do. Lend a hand, with all your might.
But, Rector Kroll, you know Mr. Rosmer’s distaste for public life.
He must get over his distaste.—You don’t keep abreast of things, Rosmer. You bury yourself alive here, with your historical collections. Far be it from me to speak disrespectfully of family trees and so forth; but, unfortunately, this is no time for hobbies of that sort. You cannot imagine the state things are in, all over the country. There is hardly a single accepted idea that hasn’t been turned topsy-turvy. It will be a gigantic task to get all the errors rooted out again.
I have no doubt of it. But I am the last man to undertake such a task.
And besides, I think Mr. Rosmer has come to take a wider view of life than he used to.
[With surprise.] Wider?
Yes; or freer, if you like—less one-sided.
What is the meaning of this? Rosmer—surely you are not so weak as to be influenced by the accident that the leaders of the mob have won a temporary advantage?