PILLARS OF SOCIETY(1877)

CHARACTERS.

Townspeople and others, foreign sailors, steamboat passengers, etc.The action takes place in Consul Bernick’s house, in a small Norwegian seaport.

Townspeople and others, foreign sailors, steamboat passengers, etc.

The action takes place in Consul Bernick’s house, in a small Norwegian seaport.

Pronunciation of Names: Rörlund = Rörloond; Dina = Deena; Rummel = Roomel; Vigeland = Veeghëland; Aune = Ownë; Lynge = Lynghë. The modified “ö” is pronounced much as in German.

PILLARS OF SOCIETY.

A spacious garden-room inConsul Bernick’shouse. In front, to the left, a door lends into the Consul’s office; farther back, in the same wall, a similar door. In the middle of the opposite wall is a large entrance door. The back wall is almost entirely composed of plate-glass, with an open doorway leading to a broad flight of steps,[23]over which a sun-shade is let down. Beyond the steps a part of the garden can be seen, enclosed by a railing with a little gate. Beyond the railing, and running parallel with it, is a street of small, brightly painted wooden houses. It is summer, and the sun shines warmly. Now and then people pass along the street: they stop and speak to each other: customers come and go at the little corner shop, and so forth.

In the garden-room a number of ladies are gathered round a table. At the head of the table sitsMrs. Bernick.On her left sitMrs. Holtand her daughter; next to them,Mrs.andMiss Rummel.OnMrs. Bernick’sright sitMrs.Lynge,Miss Bernick (Martha),andDina Dorf.All the ladies are busy sewing. On the table lie large heaps of half-finished and cut-out linen, and other articles of clothing. Farther back, at a little table on which are two flower-pots and a glass ofeau sucré,sitsDoctor Rörlund,reading from a book with gilt edges, a word here and there being heard by the audience. Out in the gardenOlaf Bernickis running about, shooting at marks with a crossbow.

PresentlyAune,the foreman shipbuilder, enters quietly by the door on the right. The reading ceases for a moment;Mrs. Bernicknods to him and points to the left-hand door.Aunegoes quietly to the Consul’s door, knocks softly, pauses a moment, then knocks again.Krap,the Consul’s clerk, opens the door and comes out with his hat in his hand and papers under his arm.

Krap.

Oh, it’s you knocking?

Aune.

The Consul sent for me.

Krap.

Yes; but he can’t see you just now; he has commissioned me——

Aune.

You? I’d a deal sooner——

Krap.

——commissioned me to tell you this: You must stop these Saturday lectures to the workmen.

Aune.

Indeed? I sort of thought my free time was my own to——

Krap.

Not to make the men useless in work-time. Last Saturday you must needs hold forth about the harm that will be done to the workmen by our machines and new method of work. What makes you do that?

Aune.

I do it to support society.

Krap.

That’s an odd notion! The Consul says you are undermining society.

Aune.

My “society” is not the Consul’s “society,” Mr. Krap! Seeing as I’m the foreman of the Industrial Society, I have to——

Krap.

Your first duty is as foreman of Consul Bernick’s shipyard. Your first duty is to the society called Bernick & Co., for by it we all live.—Well, now you know what the Consul wanted to say to you.

Aune.

The Consul wouldn’t have said it like that, Mr. Krap! But I know well enough what I’ve got to thank for this. It’s that cursèd American that has put in for repairs. These people think work can be done here as they do it over there, and that——

Krap.

Well, well—I have no time to go into generalities. I have told you the Consul’s wishes, andthat is enough. Now you had better go down to the yard again; you’re sure to be wanted; I shall be down myself presently.—I beg your pardon, ladies!

[He bows, and goes out through the garden and down the street.Aunegoes quietly out to the right.Doctor Rörlund,who during the whole of the foregoing conversation has continued reading, presently closes the book with a bang.

Rörlund.

There, my dear ladies, that is the end.

Mrs. Rummel.

Oh, what an instructive tale!

Mrs. Holt.

And so moral!

Mrs. Bernick.

Such a book really gives one a great deal to think over.

Rörlund.

Yes; it forms a refreshing contrast to what we unhappily see every day, both in newspapers and magazines. The rouged and gilded exterior flaunted by the great communities—what does it really conceal? Hollowness and rottenness, if I may say so. They have no moral foundation under their feet. In one word—they are whited sepulchres, these great communities of the modern world.

Mrs. Holt.

Too true! too true!

Mrs. Rummel.

We have only to look at the crew of the American ship that’s lying here.

Rörlund.

Oh, I won’t speak of such scum of humanity. But even in the higher classes—how do matters stand? Doubt and fermenting unrest on every side; the soul at war with itself; insecurity in every relation of life. See how the family is undermined!—how a brazen spirit of subversion is assailing the most vital truths!

Dina.

[Without looking up.] But many great things are done there too, are they not?

Rörlund.

Great things——? I don’t understand——

Mrs. Holt.

[Astonished.] Good heavens, Dina——!

Mrs. Rummel.

[At the same time.] Oh, Dina, how can you?

Rörlund.

It would scarcely be for our good if such “great things” came into fashion among us. No; we ought to thank God that our lot is ordered as it is. A tare, alas! will now and then spring up among the wheat; but we honestly do our best to weed it out. The great point, ladies, is to keep society pure—to exclude from it all the questionable elements which an impatient age would force upon us.

Mrs. Holt.

Ah, there’s more than enough of that sort of thing, unfortunately.

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes; last year we only escaped the railway by a hair’s-breadth.

Mrs. Bernick.

Karsten managed to put a stop to that.

Rörlund.

Providentially, Mrs. Bernick! You may be sure your husband was an instrument in a higher hand when he refused to support that scheme.

Mrs. Bernick.

And yet the papers said such horrid things about him! But we are quite forgetting to thank you, my dear Doctor. It is really more than kind of you to sacrifice so much of your time to us.

Rörlund.

Oh, not at all; in holiday-time, you know——

Mrs. Bernick.

Yes, yes; but it’s a sacrifice, nevertheless.

Rörlund.

[Drawing his chair nearer.] Pray don’t speak of it, dear lady. Do not all of you make sacrifices for a good cause? And do you not make them willingly and gladly? The Lapsed and Lost, for whom we are working, are like wounded soldiers on a battlefield; you, ladies, are the Red Cross Guild, the Sisters of Mercy, who pick lint for these unhappy sufferers, tie the bandages gently round the wounds, dress, and heal them——

Mrs. Bernick.

It must be a great blessing to see everything in so beautiful a light.

Rörlund.

The gift is largely inborn; but it can in some measure be acquired. The great point is to see things in the light of a serious vocation. What doyousay, Miss Bernick? Do you not find that you have, as it were, firmer ground under your feet since you have devoted your life to your school-work?

Martha.

I scarcely know what to say. Often, when I am pent up in the schoolroom, I wish I were far out upon the stormy sea.

Rörlund.

Yes, yes; that is temptation, my dear Miss Bernick. You must bar the door against such an unquiet guest. The stormy sea—of course you do not mean that literally; you mean the great billowing world, where so many go to wreck. And do you really find so much to attract you in the life you hear rushing and surging outside? Just look out into the street. Look at the people in the sweltering sunshine, toiling and moiling over their paltry affairs! Ours, surely, is the better part, sitting here in the pleasant shade, and turning our backs toward the quarter from which disturbance might arise.

Martha.

Yes, no doubt you are quite right——

Rörlund.

And in a house like this—in a good and pure home, where the Family is seen in its fairest shape—where peace and unity reign——[ToMrs. Bernick.] What are you listening to, Mrs. Bernick?

Mrs. Bernick.

[Who has turned towards the door of the Consul’s room.] How loudly they are talking in there!

Rörlund.

Is anything particular going on?

Mrs. Bernick.

I don’t know. There is evidently some one with my husband.

Hilmar Tönnesen,with a cigar in his mouth, comes in by the door on the right, but stops on seeing so many ladies.

Hilmar.

Oh, I beg your pardon——[Turning to go.

Mrs. Bernick.

Come in, Hilmar, come in; you are not disturbing us. Do you want anything?

Hilmar.

No, I just happened to be passing. Good-morning, ladies. [ToMrs. Bernick.] Well, what is going to come of it?

Mrs. Bernick.

Of what?

Hilmar.

You know Bernick has called a cabinet council.

Mrs. Bernick.

Indeed! What is it about?

Hilmar.

Oh, this railway nonsense again.

Mrs. Rummel.

No! Is it possible?

Mrs. Bernick.

Poor Karsten—is he to have all that worry over again——?

Rörlund.

Why, what can be the meaning of this, Mr. Tönnesen? Consul Bernick gave it plainly to be understood last year that he would have no railway here.

Hilmar.

Yes, I thought so too; but I met Krap just now, and he told me the railway question was to the fore again, and that Bernick was holding a conference with three of our capitalists.

Mrs. Rummel.

I was certain I heard Rummel’s voice.

Hilmar.

Yes, Mr. Rummel is there, of course, and Sandstad and Michael Vigeland—“Holy Michael,” as they call him.

Rörlund.

H’m——

Hilmar.

I beg your pardon, Doctor.

Mrs. Bernick.

Just when everything was so nice and quiet too!

Hilmar.

Well, for my part, I shouldn’t mind their beginning their bickerings again. It would be a variety at least.

Rörlund.

I think we can dispense with that sort of variety.

Hilmar.

It depends upon one’s constitution. Some natures crave for a Titanic struggle now and then. But there’s no room for that sort of thing in our petty provincial life, and it’s not every one that can—— [Turning over the leaves ofRörlund’sbook.] “Woman as the Servant of Society”—what rubbish is this!

Mrs. Bernick.

Oh, Hilmar, you mustn’t say that. You have surely not read the book.

Hilmar.

No, and don’t intend to.

Mrs. Bernick.

You seem out of sorts to-day.

Hilmar.

Yes, I am.

Mrs. Bernick.

Perhaps you didn’t sleep well last night?

Hilmar.

No, I slept very badly. I went a walk yesterday evening, by my doctor’s orders. Then Ilooked in at the club, and read an account of a polar expedition. There is something bracing in watching men at war with the elements.

Mrs. Rummel.

But it doesn’t seem to have agreed with you, Mr. Tönnesen?

Hilmar.

No, it didn’t agree with me at all. I lay tossing all night half asleep, and dreamt I was being chased by a horrible walrus.

Olaf.

[Who has come up the garden steps.] Have you been chased by a walrus, Uncle?

Hilmar.

I dreamt it, little stupid! Do you still go on playing with that ridiculous bow? Why don’t you get hold of a proper gun?

Olaf.

Oh, I should love to, but——

Hilmar.

There would be some sense in a gun; the very act of pulling the trigger braces your nerves.

Olaf.

And then I could shoot bears, Uncle. But father won’t let me.

Mrs. Bernick.

You really must not put such ideas into his head, Hilmar.

Hilmar.

Ha—there we have the rising generation nowadays! Goodness knows there’s plenty of talkabout pluck and daring, but it all ends in play; no one has any real craving for the discipline that lies in looking danger manfully in the face. Don’t stand and point at me with your bow, stupid; it might go off,

Olaf.

No, Uncle, there’s no bolt in it.

Hilmar.

How do you know? There may very likely be a bolt in it. Take it away, I tell you!—Why the deuce have you never gone to America in one of your father’s ships? There you could go buffalo-hunting or fighting the redskins.

Mrs. Bernick.

Oh, Hilmar——

Olaf.

I should like to very much, Uncle; and then perhaps I might meet Uncle Johan and Aunt Lona.

Hilmar.

H’m—don’t talk nonsense.

Mrs. Bernick.

Now you can go down the garden again, Olaf.

Olaf.

Mayn’t I go out into the street, mother?

Mrs. Bernick.

Yes; but take care not to go too far.

[Olafruns out through the garden gate.

Rörlund.

You ought not to put such notions into the child’s head, Mr. Tönnesen.

Hilmar.

No, of course, he’s to be a mere stick-in-the-mud, like so many others.

Rörlund.

Why do you not go to America yourself?

Hilmar.

I? With my complaint? Of course no one here has any consideration for that. But besides—one has duties towards the society one belongs to. There must besome oneto hold high the banner of the ideal. Ugh, there he is shouting again!

The Ladies.

Who is shouting?

Hilmar.

Oh, I don’t know. They are talking rather loud in there, and it makes me so nervous.

Mrs. Rummel.

It is my husband you hear, Mr. Tönnesen; you must remember he is so accustomed to addressing great assemblies——

Rörlund.

The others are not whispering either, it seems to me.

Hilmar.

No, sure enough, when it’s a question of keeping the purse-strings tight——; everything here ends in paltry material calculations. Ugh!

Mrs. Bernick.

At least that is better than it used to be, when everything ended in dissipation.

Mrs. Lynge.

Were things really so bad as all that?

Mrs. Rummel.

They were as bad as bad could be, Mrs. Lynge. You may thank your stars that you didn’t live here then.

Mrs. Holt.

Yes, there has certainly been a great change! When I think of the time when I was a girl——

Mrs. Rummel.

Oh, you needn’t go back more than fourteen or fifteen years—heaven help us, what a life people led! There was a dancing club and a music club——

Martha.

And the dramatic club—I remember it quite well.

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes; it was there your play was acted, Mr. Tönnesen.

Hilmar.

[At the back.] Oh, nonsense——!

Rörlund.

Mr. Tönnesen’s play?

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes; that was long before you came here, Doctor. Besides, it only ran one night.

Mrs. Lynge.

Wasn’t it in that play you told me you played the heroine, Mrs. Rummel?

Mrs. Rummel.

[Glancing atRörlund.] I? I really don’t remember, Mrs. Lynge. But I remember too well all the noisy gaiety that went on among families.

Mrs. Holt.

Yes; I actually know houses where two great dinner-parties were given in one week.

Mrs. Lynge.

And then there was a company of strolling actors, they tell me.

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes, that was the worst of all——!

Mrs. Holt.

[Uneasily.] H’m, h’m——

Mrs. Rummel.

Oh, actors did you say? No, I remember nothing about them.

Mrs. Lynge.

Why, I was told they caused all sorts of trouble. What was it that really happened?

Mrs. Rummel.

Oh, nothing at all, Mrs. Lynge.

Mrs. Holt.

Dina, dear, hand me that piece of linen, please.

Mrs. Bernick.

[At the same time.] Dina, my love, will you go and ask Katrina to bring in the coffee.

Martha.

I will go with you, Dina.

[DinaandMarthago out by the second door on the left.

Mrs. Bernick.

[Rising.] And you must excuse me for a moment, ladies; I think we had better take our coffee outside.

[She goes out to the verandah and begins arranging a table;Rörlundstands in the doorway talking to her.Hilmarsits outside smoking.

Mrs. Rummel.

[Softly.] Oh dear, Mrs. Lynge, how you frightened me!

Mrs. Lynge.

Mrs. Holt.

Ah, but you began it yourself, Mrs. Rummel.

Mrs. Rummel.

I? Oh, how can you say so, Mrs. Holt? Not a single word passed my lips.

Mrs. Lynge.

But what is the matter?

Mrs. Rummel.

How could you begin to talk about——! Only think—didn’t you see that Dina was in the room?

Mrs. Lynge.

Dina? Why, bless me! what has she to do with——?

Mrs. Holt.

Here, in this house, too! Don’t you know that it was Mrs. Bernick s brother——?

Mrs. Lynge.

What about him? I know nothing at all;rememberrememberI am quite new to the town——

Mrs. Rummel.

Then you haven’t heard that——? H’m—— [To her daughter.] You can go down the garden for a little while, Hilda.

Mrs. Holt.

You too, Netta. And be sure you are very kind to poor Dina when she comes.

[Miss RummelandMiss Holtgo out into the garden.

Mrs. Lynge.

Well, what about Mrs. Bernick’s brother?

Mrs. Rummel.

Don’t you know, he was the hero of the scandal?

Mrs. Lynge.

Mr. Hilmar the hero of a scandal!

Mrs. Rummel.

Good heavens, no; Hilmar is her cousin Mrs. Lynge. I am speaking of her brother——

Mrs. Holt.

The Prodigal Tönnesen——

Mrs. Rummel.

Johan was his name. He ran away to America.

Mrs. Holt.

Hadto run away, you understand.

Mrs. Lynge.

Then the scandal was abouthim?

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes, it was a sort of—what shall I call it?—a sort of a—with Dina’s mother. Oh, I remember it as if it were yesterday. Johan Tönnesen was in old Mrs. Bernick’s office; Karsten Bernick had just come home from Paris—it was before his engagement——

Mrs. Lynge.

Yes, but the scandal——?

Mrs. Rummel.

Well, you see, that winter Möller’s comedy company was in the town——

Mrs. Holt.

——and in the company were Dorf and his wife. All the young men were mad about her.

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes, heaven knows what they could see in her. But one evening Dorf came home very late——

Mrs. Holt.

——and quite unexpectedly——

Mrs. Rummel.

And there he found—no, really I don’t think I can tell you.

Mrs. Holt.

Why, you know, Mrs. Rummel, he found nothing, for the door was locked on the inside.

Mrs. Rummel.

Yes; that’s what I say—he found the door locked. And—only think!—some one inside had to jump out of the window.

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