Chapter 25

Guldstad[smiling].

There are two, though, are there not?

Falk.

It was—the other sister that you meant?

Guldstad.

Thatsister, yes, the other one,—just so.Judge for yourself, when you have come to knowThat sister better, if she has not in herMerits which, if they were divined, would win herA little more regard than we bestow.

Thatsister, yes, the other one,—just so.

Judge for yourself, when you have come to know

That sister better, if she has not in her

Merits which, if they were divined, would win her

A little more regard than we bestow.

Falk[coldly].

Her virtues are of every known varietyI’m sure.

Her virtues are of every known variety

I’m sure.

Guldstad.

Not quite; the accent of societyShe cannot hit exactly; there she loses.

Not quite; the accent of society

She cannot hit exactly; there she loses.

Falk.

A grievous fault.

Guldstad.

But if her mother choosesTo spend a winter on her, she’ll come out of itQueen of them all, I’ll wager.

But if her mother chooses

To spend a winter on her, she’ll come out of it

Queen of them all, I’ll wager.

Falk.

Not a doubt of it.

Guldstad[laughing].

Young women are odd creatures, to be sure!

Falk[gaily].

Like winter rye-seed, canopied secureBy frost and snow, invisibly they sprout.

Like winter rye-seed, canopied secure

By frost and snow, invisibly they sprout.

Guldstad.

Then in the festive ball-room bedded out—

Falk.

With equivoque and scandal for manure—

Guldstad.

And when the April sun shines—

Falk.

There the blade is;The seed shot up in mannikin green ladies![Lindcomes up and seizesFalk’shand.

There the blade is;

The seed shot up in mannikin green ladies!

[Lindcomes up and seizesFalk’shand.

Lind.

How well I chose,—past understanding well;—I feel a bliss that nothing can dispel.

How well I chose,—past understanding well;—

I feel a bliss that nothing can dispel.

Guldstad.

There stands your mistress; tell us, if you can,The right demeanor for a plighted man.

There stands your mistress; tell us, if you can,

The right demeanor for a plighted man.

Lind[perturbed].

That’s a third person’s business to declare.

Guldstad[joking].

Ill-tempered! This to Anna’s ears I’ll bear.[Goes to the ladies.

Ill-tempered! This to Anna’s ears I’ll bear.

[Goes to the ladies.

Lind[looking after him].

Can such a man be tolerated?

Falk.

YouMistook his aim, however,—

You

Mistook his aim, however,—

Lind.

And how so?

Falk.

It was not Anna that he had in view.

Lind.

How, was it Svanhild?

Falk.

Well, I hardly know.[Whimsically.Forgive me, martyr to another’s cause!

Well, I hardly know.

[Whimsically.

Forgive me, martyr to another’s cause!

Lind.

What do you mean?

Falk.

You’ve read the news to-night?

Lind.

No.

Falk.

Do so. There ’tis told in black and whiteOf one who, ill-luck’s bitter counsel taking,Had his sound teeth extracted from his jawsBecause his cousin-german’s teeth were aching.

Do so. There ’tis told in black and white

Of one who, ill-luck’s bitter counsel taking,

Had his sound teeth extracted from his jaws

Because his cousin-german’s teeth were aching.

Miss Jay[looking out to the left].

Here comes the priest!

Mrs. Halm.

Now see a man of might!

Stiver.

Five children, six, seven, eight—

Falk.

And, heavens, all recent!

Miss Jay.

Ugh! it is almost to be called indecent.

[A carriage has meantime been heard stopping outside to the left.Strawman,his wife, and eight little girls, all in travelling dress, enter one by one.

Mrs. Halm[advancing to meet them].

Welcome, a hearty welcome!

Strawman.

Thank you.

Mrs. Strawman.

Is itA party?

Is it

A party?

Mrs. Halm.

No, dear madam, not at all.

Mrs. Strawman.

If we disturb you—

Mrs. Halm.

Au contraire, your visitCould in no wise more opportunely fall.My Anna’s just engaged.

Au contraire, your visit

Could in no wise more opportunely fall.

My Anna’s just engaged.

Strawman[shakingAnna’shand with unction].

Ah then, I mustBear witness;—Lo! in wedded Love’s presentedA treasure such as neither moth nor rustCorrupt—if it be duly supplemented.

Ah then, I must

Bear witness;—Lo! in wedded Love’s presented

A treasure such as neither moth nor rust

Corrupt—if it be duly supplemented.

Mrs. Halm.

But how delightful that your little maidsShould follow you to town.

But how delightful that your little maids

Should follow you to town.

Strawman.

Four tender bladesWe have besides.

Four tender blades

We have besides.

Mrs. Halm.

Ah, really?

Strawman.

Three of whomAre still too infantine to take to heartA loving father’s absence, when I comeTo town for sessions.

Three of whom

Are still too infantine to take to heart

A loving father’s absence, when I come

To town for sessions.

Miss Jay[toMrs. Halm,bidding farewell].

Now I must depart.

Mrs. Halm.

O, it is still so early!

Miss Jay.

I must flyTo town and spread the news. The Storms, I know,Go late to rest, they will be up; and oh!How glad the aunts will be! Now, dear, put byYour shyness; for to-morrow a spring-tideOf callers will flow in from every side!

I must fly

To town and spread the news. The Storms, I know,

Go late to rest, they will be up; and oh!

How glad the aunts will be! Now, dear, put by

Your shyness; for to-morrow a spring-tide

Of callers will flow in from every side!

Mrs. Halm.

Well, then, good-night.[To the others.Now friends, what would you sayTo drinking tea?[ToMrs. Strawman.Pray, madam, lead the way.

Well, then, good-night.

[To the others.

Now friends, what would you say

To drinking tea?

[ToMrs. Strawman.

Pray, madam, lead the way.

[Mrs. Halm, Strawman,his wife and children, withGuldstad, Lind,andAnnago into the house.

Miss Jay[takingStiver’sarm].

Now let’s be tender! Look how softly floatsQueen Luna on her throne o’er lawn and lea!—Well, but you are not looking!

Now let’s be tender! Look how softly floats

Queen Luna on her throne o’er lawn and lea!—

Well, but you are not looking!

Stiver[crossly].

Yes, I see;I’m thinking of the promissory notes.

Yes, I see;

I’m thinking of the promissory notes.

[They go out to the left.Falk,who has been continuously watchingStrawmanand his wife, remains behind alone in the garden. It is now dark; the house is lighted up.

Falk.

All is as if burnt out;—all desolate, dead—!So thro’ the world they wander, two and two;Charred wreckage, like the blackened stems that strewThe forest when the withering fire is fled.Far as the eye can travel, all is drought,And nowhere peeps one spray of verdure out!

All is as if burnt out;—all desolate, dead—!

So thro’ the world they wander, two and two;

Charred wreckage, like the blackened stems that strew

The forest when the withering fire is fled.

Far as the eye can travel, all is drought,

And nowhere peeps one spray of verdure out!

[Svanhildcomes out on to the verandah with a flowering rose-tree which she sets down.

Yes one—yes one—!

Svanhild.

Falk, in the dark?

Falk.

And fearless!Darkness to me is fair, and light is cheerlessBut are notyouafraid in yonder wallsWhere the lamp’s light on sallow corpses falls—

And fearless!

Darkness to me is fair, and light is cheerless

But are notyouafraid in yonder walls

Where the lamp’s light on sallow corpses falls—

Svanhild.

Shame!

Falk[looking afterStrawmanwho appears at the window].

He was once so brilliant and so strong;Warred with the world to win his mistress; passedFor Custom’s doughtiest iconoclast;And poured forth love in pæans of glad song—!Look at him now! In solemn robes and wraps,A two-legged drama on his own collapse!And she, the limp-skirt slattern, with the shoesHeel-trodden, that squeak and clatter in her traces,This is the winged maid who was his MuseAnd escort to the kingdom of the graces!Of all that fire this puff of smoke’s the end!Sic transit gloria amoris, friend.

He was once so brilliant and so strong;

Warred with the world to win his mistress; passed

For Custom’s doughtiest iconoclast;

And poured forth love in pæans of glad song—!

Look at him now! In solemn robes and wraps,

A two-legged drama on his own collapse!

And she, the limp-skirt slattern, with the shoes

Heel-trodden, that squeak and clatter in her traces,

This is the winged maid who was his Muse

And escort to the kingdom of the graces!

Of all that fire this puff of smoke’s the end!

Sic transit gloria amoris, friend.

Svanhild.

Yes, it is wretched, wretched past compare.I know of no one’s lot that I would share.

Yes, it is wretched, wretched past compare.

I know of no one’s lot that I would share.

Falk[eagerly].

Then let us two rise up and bid defianceTo this same order Art, not Nature, bred!

Then let us two rise up and bid defiance

To this same order Art, not Nature, bred!

Svanhild[shaking her head].

Then were the cause for which we made allianceRuined, as sure as this is earth we tread.

Then were the cause for which we made alliance

Ruined, as sure as this is earth we tread.

Falk.

No, triumph waits upon two souls in unity.To Custom’s parish-church no more we’ll wend,Seatholders in the Philistine community.See, Personality’s one aim and endIs to be independent, free and true.In that I am not wanting, nor are you.A fiery spirit pulses in your veins,For thoughts that master, you have words that burn;The corslet of convention, that constrainsThe beating hearts of other maids, you spurn.The voice that you were born with will not chime toThe chorus Custom’s baton gives the time to.

No, triumph waits upon two souls in unity.

To Custom’s parish-church no more we’ll wend,

Seatholders in the Philistine community.

See, Personality’s one aim and end

Is to be independent, free and true.

In that I am not wanting, nor are you.

A fiery spirit pulses in your veins,

For thoughts that master, you have words that burn;

The corslet of convention, that constrains

The beating hearts of other maids, you spurn.

The voice that you were born with will not chime to

The chorus Custom’s baton gives the time to.

Svanhild.

And do you think pain has not often pressedTears from my eyes, and quiet from my breast?I longed to shape my way to my own bent—

And do you think pain has not often pressed

Tears from my eyes, and quiet from my breast?

I longed to shape my way to my own bent—

Falk.

“In pensive ease?”

Svanhild.

O no, ’twas sternly meant.But then the aunts came in with well-intendedAdvice, the matter must be sifted, weighed—[Coming nearer.“In pensive ease,” you say; oh no, I madeA bold experiment—in art.

O no, ’twas sternly meant.

But then the aunts came in with well-intended

Advice, the matter must be sifted, weighed—

[Coming nearer.

“In pensive ease,” you say; oh no, I made

A bold experiment—in art.

Falk.

Which ended—?

Svanhild.

In failure. I lacked talent for the brush.The thirst for freedom, tho’, I could not crush;Checked at the easel, it essayed the stage—

In failure. I lacked talent for the brush.

The thirst for freedom, tho’, I could not crush;

Checked at the easel, it essayed the stage—

Falk.

That plan was shattered also, I engage?

Svanhild.

Upon the eldest aunt’s suggestion, yes;She much preferred a place as governess—

Upon the eldest aunt’s suggestion, yes;

She much preferred a place as governess—

Falk.

But of all this I never heard a word!

Svanhild[smiling].

No wonder; they took care that none was heard.They trembled at the risk “my future” ranIf this were whispered to unmarried Man.

No wonder; they took care that none was heard.

They trembled at the risk “my future” ran

If this were whispered to unmarried Man.

Falk[after gazing a moment at her in meditative sympathy].

That such must be your lot I long had guessed.When first I met you, I can well recall,You seemed to me quite other than the rest,Beyond the comprehension of them all.They sat at table,—fragrant tea a-brewing,And small-talk humming with the tea in tune,The young girls blushing and the young men cooing,Like pigeons on a sultry afternoon.Old maids and matrons volubly averredMorality and faith’s supreme felicity,Young wives were loud in praise of domesticity,While you stood lonely like a mateless bird.And when at last the gabbling clamour roseTo a tea-orgy, a debauch of prose,You seemed a piece of silver, newly minted,Among foul notes and coppers dulled and dinted.You were a coin imported, alien, strange,Here valued at another rate of change,Not passing current in that babel martOf poetry and butter, cheese and art.Then—while Miss Jay in triumph took the field—

That such must be your lot I long had guessed.

When first I met you, I can well recall,

You seemed to me quite other than the rest,

Beyond the comprehension of them all.

They sat at table,—fragrant tea a-brewing,

And small-talk humming with the tea in tune,

The young girls blushing and the young men cooing,

Like pigeons on a sultry afternoon.

Old maids and matrons volubly averred

Morality and faith’s supreme felicity,

Young wives were loud in praise of domesticity,

While you stood lonely like a mateless bird.

And when at last the gabbling clamour rose

To a tea-orgy, a debauch of prose,

You seemed a piece of silver, newly minted,

Among foul notes and coppers dulled and dinted.

You were a coin imported, alien, strange,

Here valued at another rate of change,

Not passing current in that babel mart

Of poetry and butter, cheese and art.

Then—while Miss Jay in triumph took the field—

Svanhild[gravely].

Her knight behind her, like a champion bold,His hat upon his elbow, like a shield—

Her knight behind her, like a champion bold,

His hat upon his elbow, like a shield—

Falk.

Your mother nodded to your untouched cup:“Drink, Svanhild dear, before your tea grows cold.”And then you drank the vapid liquor up,The mawkish brew beloved of young and old.But that name gripped me with a sudden spell;The grim old Völsungs as they fought and fell,With all their faded æons, seemed to riseIn never-ending line before my eyes.In you I saw a Svanhild, like the old,But fashioned to the modern age’s mould.Sick of its hollow warfare is the world;Its lying banner it would fain have furled;But when the world does evil, its offenceIs blotted in the blood of innocence.

Your mother nodded to your untouched cup:

“Drink, Svanhild dear, before your tea grows cold.”

And then you drank the vapid liquor up,

The mawkish brew beloved of young and old.

But that name gripped me with a sudden spell;

The grim old Völsungs as they fought and fell,

With all their faded æons, seemed to rise

In never-ending line before my eyes.

In you I saw a Svanhild, like the old,

But fashioned to the modern age’s mould.

Sick of its hollow warfare is the world;

Its lying banner it would fain have furled;

But when the world does evil, its offence

Is blotted in the blood of innocence.

Svanhild[with gentle irony].

I think, at any rate, the fumes of teaMust answer for that direful fantasy;But ’tis your least achievement, past dispute,To hear the spirit speaking, when ’tis mute.

I think, at any rate, the fumes of tea

Must answer for that direful fantasy;

But ’tis your least achievement, past dispute,

To hear the spirit speaking, when ’tis mute.

Falk[with emotion].

Nay, Svanhild, do not jest: behind your scoffTears glitter,—O, I see them plain enough.And I see more: when you to dust are fray’d,And kneaded to a formless lump of clay,Each bungling dilettante’s scalpel-bladeOn you his dull devices shall display.The world usurps the creature of God’s handAnd sets its image in the place of His,Transforms, enlarges that part, lightens this;And when upon the pedestal you standComplete, cries out in triumph: “Nowshe isAt last what woman ought to be: Behold,How plastically calm, how marble-cold!Bathed in the lamplight’s soft irradiation,How well in keeping with the decoration!”[Passionately seizing her hand.But if you are to die, live first! Come forthWith me into the glory of God’s earth!Soon, soon the gilded cage will claim its prize.The Lady thrives there, but the Woman dies,And I love nothing but the Woman in you.There, if they will, let others woo and win you,But here, my spring of life began to shoot,Here my Song-tree put forth its firstling fruit;Here I found wings and flight:—Svanhild, I know it,Only be mine,—here I shall grow a poet!

Nay, Svanhild, do not jest: behind your scoff

Tears glitter,—O, I see them plain enough.

And I see more: when you to dust are fray’d,

And kneaded to a formless lump of clay,

Each bungling dilettante’s scalpel-blade

On you his dull devices shall display.

The world usurps the creature of God’s hand

And sets its image in the place of His,

Transforms, enlarges that part, lightens this;

And when upon the pedestal you stand

Complete, cries out in triumph: “Nowshe is

At last what woman ought to be: Behold,

How plastically calm, how marble-cold!

Bathed in the lamplight’s soft irradiation,

How well in keeping with the decoration!”

[Passionately seizing her hand.

But if you are to die, live first! Come forth

With me into the glory of God’s earth!

Soon, soon the gilded cage will claim its prize.

The Lady thrives there, but the Woman dies,

And I love nothing but the Woman in you.

There, if they will, let others woo and win you,

But here, my spring of life began to shoot,

Here my Song-tree put forth its firstling fruit;

Here I found wings and flight:—Svanhild, I know it,

Only be mine,—here I shall grow a poet!

Svanhild[in gentle reproof, withdrawing her hand].

O, why have you betrayed yourself? How sweetIt was when we as friends could freely meet!You should have kept your counsel. Can we stakeOur bliss upon a word that we may break?Now you have spoken, all is over.

O, why have you betrayed yourself? How sweet

It was when we as friends could freely meet!

You should have kept your counsel. Can we stake

Our bliss upon a word that we may break?

Now you have spoken, all is over.

Falk.

No!I’ve pointed to the goal,—now leap with me,My high-souled Svanhild—if you dare, and showThat you have heart and courage to be free.

No!

I’ve pointed to the goal,—now leap with me,

My high-souled Svanhild—if you dare, and show

That you have heart and courage to be free.

Svanhild.

Be free?

Falk.

Yes, free, for freedom’s all-in-allIs absolutely to fulfil our Call.And you by heaven were destined, I know well,To be my bulwark against beauty’s spell.I, like my falcon namesake, have to swingAgainst the wind, if I would reach the sky!You are the breeze I must be breasted by,You, only you, put vigour in my wing:Be mine, be mine, until the world shall take you,When leaves are falling, then our paths shall partSing unto me the treasures of your heart,And for each song another song I’ll make you;So may you pass into the lamplit glowOf age, as forests fade without a throe.

Yes, free, for freedom’s all-in-all

Is absolutely to fulfil our Call.

And you by heaven were destined, I know well,

To be my bulwark against beauty’s spell.

I, like my falcon namesake, have to swing

Against the wind, if I would reach the sky!

You are the breeze I must be breasted by,

You, only you, put vigour in my wing:

Be mine, be mine, until the world shall take you,

When leaves are falling, then our paths shall part

Sing unto me the treasures of your heart,

And for each song another song I’ll make you;

So may you pass into the lamplit glow

Of age, as forests fade without a throe.

Svanhild[with suppressed bitterness].

I cannot thank you, for your words betrayThe meaning of your kind solicitude.You eye me as a boy a sallow, goodTo cut and play the flute on for a day.

I cannot thank you, for your words betray

The meaning of your kind solicitude.

You eye me as a boy a sallow, good

To cut and play the flute on for a day.

Falk.

Yes, better than to linger in the swampTill autumn choke it with her grey mists damp![Vehemently.You must! you shall! To me you must presentWhat God to you so bountifully lent.I speak in song what you in dreams have meant.See yonder bird I innocently slew,Her warbling was Song’s book of books for you.O, yield your music as she yielded hers!My life shall be that music set to verse!

Yes, better than to linger in the swamp

Till autumn choke it with her grey mists damp!

[Vehemently.

You must! you shall! To me you must present

What God to you so bountifully lent.

I speak in song what you in dreams have meant.

See yonder bird I innocently slew,

Her warbling was Song’s book of books for you.

O, yield your music as she yielded hers!

My life shall be that music set to verse!

Svanhild.

And when you know me, when my songs are flown,And my last requiem chanted from the bough,—What then?

And when you know me, when my songs are flown,

And my last requiem chanted from the bough,—

What then?

Falk[observing her].

What then? Ah well, remember now![Pointing to the garden.

What then? Ah well, remember now!

[Pointing to the garden.

Svanhild[gently].

Yes, I remember you can drive a stone.

Falk[with a scornful laugh].

This is your vaunted soul of freedom therefore!All daring, if it had an end to dare for![Vehemently.I’ve shown you one; now, once for all, your yeaOr nay.

This is your vaunted soul of freedom therefore!

All daring, if it had an end to dare for!

[Vehemently.

I’ve shown you one; now, once for all, your yea

Or nay.

Svanhild.

You know the answer I must make you:I never can accept you in your way.

You know the answer I must make you:

I never can accept you in your way.

Falk[coldly, breaking off].

Then there’s an end of it; the world may take you!

[Svanhildhas silently turned away. She supports her hands upon the verandah railing, and rests her head upon them.

Falk.

[Walks several times up and down, takes a cigar, stops near her and says, after a pause:

You think the topic of my talk to-nightExtremely ludicrous, I should not wonder?[Pauses for an answer.Svanhildis silent.I’m very conscious that it was a blunder;Sister’s and daughter’s love alone possess you;Henceforth I’ll wear kid gloves when I address you,Sure, so, of being understood aright.

You think the topic of my talk to-night

Extremely ludicrous, I should not wonder?

[Pauses for an answer.Svanhildis silent.

I’m very conscious that it was a blunder;

Sister’s and daughter’s love alone possess you;

Henceforth I’ll wear kid gloves when I address you,

Sure, so, of being understood aright.

[Pauses, but asSvanhildremains motionless, he turns and goes towards the right.

Svanhild[lifting her head after a brief silence, looking at him and drawing nearer].

Now I will recompense your kind intentTo save me, with an earnest admonition.That falcon-image gave me sudden visionWhat your “emancipation” really meant.You said you were the falcon, that must fightAthwart the wind if it would reach the sky,I was the breeze you must be breasted by,Else vain were all your faculty of flight;How pitifully mean! How paltry! NayHow ludicrous, as you yourself divined!That seed, however, fell not by the way,But bred another fancy in my mindOf a far more illuminating kind.You, as I saw it, were no falcon, butA tuneful dragon, out of paper cut,Whose Ego holds a secondary station,Dependent on the string for animation;Its breast was scrawled with promises to payIn cash poetic,—at some future day;The wings were stiff with barbs and shafts of witThat wildly beat the air, but never hit;The tail was a satiric rod in pickleTo castigate the town’s infirmities,But all it compass’d was to lightly tickleThe casual doer of some small amiss.So you lay helpless at my feet, imploring:“O raise me, how and where is all the same!Give me the power of singing and of soaring.No matter at what cost of bitter blame!”

Now I will recompense your kind intent

To save me, with an earnest admonition.

That falcon-image gave me sudden vision

What your “emancipation” really meant.

You said you were the falcon, that must fight

Athwart the wind if it would reach the sky,

I was the breeze you must be breasted by,

Else vain were all your faculty of flight;

How pitifully mean! How paltry! Nay

How ludicrous, as you yourself divined!

That seed, however, fell not by the way,

But bred another fancy in my mind

Of a far more illuminating kind.

You, as I saw it, were no falcon, but

A tuneful dragon, out of paper cut,

Whose Ego holds a secondary station,

Dependent on the string for animation;

Its breast was scrawled with promises to pay

In cash poetic,—at some future day;

The wings were stiff with barbs and shafts of wit

That wildly beat the air, but never hit;

The tail was a satiric rod in pickle

To castigate the town’s infirmities,

But all it compass’d was to lightly tickle

The casual doer of some small amiss.

So you lay helpless at my feet, imploring:

“O raise me, how and where is all the same!

Give me the power of singing and of soaring.

No matter at what cost of bitter blame!”

Falk[clenching his fists in inward agitation].

Heaven be my witness—!

Svanhild.

No, you must be told:—For such a childish sport I am too old.But you, whom Nature made for high endeavour,Are you content the fields of air to treadHanging your poet’s life upon a threadThat at my pleasure I can slip and sever?

No, you must be told:—

For such a childish sport I am too old.

But you, whom Nature made for high endeavour,

Are you content the fields of air to tread

Hanging your poet’s life upon a thread

That at my pleasure I can slip and sever?

Falk[hurriedly].

What is the date to-day?

Svanhild[more gently].

Why, now, that’s right!Mind well this day, and heed it, and beware;Trust to your own wings only for your flight,Sure, if they do not break, that they will bear.The paper poem for the desk is fit,That which is lived alone has life in it;Thatonly has the wings that scale the height;Choose now between them, poet: be, or write![Nearer to him.Now I have done what you besought me; nowMy requiem is chanted from the bough;My only one; now all my songs are flown;Now, if you will, I’m ready for the stone!

Why, now, that’s right!

Mind well this day, and heed it, and beware;

Trust to your own wings only for your flight,

Sure, if they do not break, that they will bear.

The paper poem for the desk is fit,

That which is lived alone has life in it;

Thatonly has the wings that scale the height;

Choose now between them, poet: be, or write!

[Nearer to him.

Now I have done what you besought me; now

My requiem is chanted from the bough;

My only one; now all my songs are flown;

Now, if you will, I’m ready for the stone!

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