Chapter 10

Rebecca.

But to-day, then——?

Madam Helseth.

Well,—after all the horrible things that they tell me the papers are saying about the Pastor——

Rebecca.

Aha!

Madam Helseth.

For the man that can go over to Mortensgård’s religion—good Lord, I can believe anything of him.

Rebecca.

Oh yes, I suppose so. But what about me? What have you to say about me?

Madam Helseth.

Lord preserve us, Miss—I don’t see that there’s much to be said against you. It’s not so easy for a lone woman to be always on her guard, that’s certain.—We’re all of us human, Miss West.

Rebecca.

That’s very true, Madam Helseth. We are all of us human.—What are you listening to?

Madam Helseth.

[In a low voice.] Oh Lord,—if I don’t believe that’s him coming.

Rebecca.

[Starts.] After all then——? [Resolutely.] Well well; so be it.

Johannes Rosmerenters from the hall.

Rosmer.

[Sees the hand-bag, etc., turns toRebecca,and asks:] What does this mean?

Rebecca.

I am going.

Rosmer.

At once?

Rebecca.

Yes. [ToMadam Helseth.] Eleven o’clock then.

Madam Helseth.

Very well, Miss.[Goes out to the right.

Rosmer.

[After a short pause.] Where are you going to, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

North, by the steamer.

Rosmer.

North? What takes you to the North?

Rebecca.

It was there I came from.

Rosmer.

But you have no ties there now.

Rebecca.

I have none here either.

Rosmer.

What do you think of doing?

Rebecca.

I don’t know. I only want to have done with it all.

Rosmer.

To have done with it?

Rebecca.

Rosmersholm has broken me.

Rosmer.

[His attention aroused.] Do you say that?

Rebecca.

Broken me utterly and hopelessly.—I had a free and fearless will when I came here. Now I have bent my neck under a strange law.—From this day forth, I feel as if I had no courage for anything in the world.

Rosmer.

Why not? What is the law that you say you have——?

Rebecca.

Dear, don’t let us talk of that just now.—What happened between you and the Rector?

Rosmer.

We have made peace.

Rebecca.

Ah yes; so that was the end.

Rosmer.

He gathered all our old friends together at his house. They have made it clear to me that the work of ennobling the minds of men—is not for me.—And besides, it is hopeless in itself, Rebecca.—I shall let it alone.

Rebecca.

Yes, yes—perhaps it is best so.

Rosmer.

Isthatwhat you say now? Do you think sonow?

Rebecca.

I have come to think so—in the last few days.

Rosmer.

You are lying, Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Lying——!

Rosmer.

Yes, you are lying. You have never believedin me. You have never believed that I was man enough to carry the cause through to victory.

Rebecca.

I believed that we two together could do it.

Rosmer.

That is not true. You thought that you yourself could do something great in life; and that you could use me to further your ends. I was to be a serviceable instrument to you—thatis what you thought.

Rebecca.

Listen to me, Rosmer——

Rosmer.

[Seats himself listlessly on the sofa.] Oh, what is the use? I see through it all now—I have been like a glove in your hands.

Rebecca.

Listen, Rosmer. Hear what I have to say. It will be for the last time. [Sits in a chair close to the sofa.] I intended to write you all about it—when I was back in the North. But I daresay it is best that you should hear it at once.

Rosmer.

Have you more confessions to make?

Rebecca.

The greatest of all is to come.

Rosmer.

The greatest?

Rebecca.

What you have never suspected. What gives light and shade to all the rest.

Rosmer.

[Shakes his head.] I don’t understand you at all.

Rebecca.

It is perfectly true that I once schemed to gain a footing at Rosmersholm. I thought I could not fail to turn things to good account here. In one way or the other—you understand.

Rosmer.

Well, you accomplished your ends.

Rebecca.

I believe I could have accomplished anything, anything in the world—at that time. For I had still my fearless, free-born will. I knew no scruples—I stood in awe of no human tie.—But then began what has broken my will—and cowed me so pitiably for all my days.

Rosmer.

What began? Do not speak in riddles.

Rebecca.

It came over me,—this wild, uncontrollable passion——. Oh, Rosmer——!

Rosmer.

Passion? You——! For what?

Rebecca.

For you.

Rosmer.

[Tries to spring up.] What is this?

Rebecca.

[Stops him.] Sit still, dear; there is more to tell.

Rosmer.

And you mean to say—that you have loved me—in that way!

Rebecca.

I thought that it should be called love—then. Yes, I thought it was love. But it was not. It was what I said. It was a wild, uncontrollable passion.

Rosmer.

[With difficulty.] Rebecca, is it really you—you yourself—that you are speaking of?

Rebecca.

Yes, would you believe it, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Then it was because of this—under the influence of this—that you—that you “went to work,” as you call it?

Rebecca.

It came upon me like a storm on the sea. It was like one of the storms we sometimes have in the North in the winter-time. It seizes you—and whirls you along with it—wherever it will. There is no resisting it.

Rosmer.

And so it swept the unhappy Beata into the mill race.

Rebecca.

Yes; for it was a life-and-death struggle between Beata and me at that time.

Rosmer.

Assuredly you were the strongest at Rosmersholm. Stronger than Beata and I together.

Rebecca.

I judged you rightly in so far that I was sure I could never reach you until you were a free man, both in circumstances—and in spirit.

Rosmer.

But I don’t understand you, Rebecca. You—yourself—your whole conduct is an insoluble riddle to me. I am free now—both in spirit and in circumstances. You have reached the very goal you aimed at from the first. And yet——

Rebecca.

I have never stood farther from my goal than now.

Rosmer.

And yet I say—when I asked you yesterday—begged you to be my wife—you cried out, as if in fear, that it could never be.

Rebecca.

I cried out in despair, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Why?

Rebecca.

Because Rosmersholm has sapped my strength.My old fearless will has had its wings clipped here. It is crippled! The time is past when I had courage for anything in the world. I have lost the power of action, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Tell me how this has come about.

Rebecca.

It has come about through my life with you.

Rosmer.

But how? How?

Rebecca.

When I was left alone with you here,—and when you had become yourself again——

Rosmer.

Yes, yes?

Rebecca.

——for you were never quite yourself so long as Beata lived——

Rosmer.

I am afraid you are right there.

Rebecca.

But when I found myself sharing your life here,—in quiet—in solitude,—when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve—every tender and delicate feeling, just as it came to you—thenthe great change came over me. Little by little, you understand. Almost imperceptibly—but at last with such overwhelming force that it reached to the depths of my soul.

Rosmer.

Oh, is this true, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

All the rest—the horrible sense-intoxicated desire—passed far, far away from me. All the whirling passions settled down into quiet and silence. Rest descended on my soul—a stillness as on one of our northern bird-cliffs under the midnight sun.

Rosmer.

Tell me more of this. Tell me all you can.

Rebecca.

There is not much more, dear. Only this—it was love that was born in me. The great self-denying love, that is content with life, as we two have lived it together.

Rosmer.

Oh, if I had only had the faintest suspicion of all this!

Rebecca.

It is best as it is. Yesterday—when you asked me if I would be your wife—I cried out with joy——

Rosmer.

Yes, did you not, Rebecca! I thought that was the meaning of your cry.

Rebecca.

For a moment, yes. I had forgotten myself. It was my old buoyant will that was struggling to be free. But it has no energy left now—no power of endurance.

Rosmer.

How do you account for what has happened to you?

Rebecca.

It is the Rosmer view of life—oryourview of life, at any rate—that has infected my will.

Rosmer.

Infected?

Rebecca.

And made it sick. Enslaved it to laws that had no power over me before. You—life with you—has ennobled my mind——

Rosmer.

Oh that I could believe it!

Rebecca.

You may safely believe it! The Rosmer view of life ennobles. But——[Shaking her head.] But—but——

Rosmer.

But——? Well?

Rebecca.

——but it kills happiness.

Rosmer.

Do you think so, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

My happiness, at any rate.

Rosmer.

Yes, but are you so certain of that? If I wereto ask you again now——? If I were to beg and entreat you——?

Rebecca.

Dear,—never speak of this again! It is impossible——! For you must know, Rosmer, I have a—a past behind me.

Rosmer.

More than what you have told me?

Rebecca.

Yes. Something different and something more.

Rosmer.

[With a faint smile.] Is it not strange, Rebecca? Some such idea has crossed my mind now and then.

Rebecca.

It has? And yet——? Even so——?

Rosmer.

I never believed it. I only played with it—in my thoughts, you understand.

Rebecca.

If you wish it, I will tell you all, at once.

Rosmer.

[Turning it off.] No, no! I will not hear a word. Whatever it may be—I can forget it.

Rebecca.

But I cannot.

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca——!

Rebecca.

Yes, Rosmer—thisis the terrible part of it: that now, when all life’s happiness is within my grasp—my heart is changed, and my own past cuts me off from it.

Rosmer.

Your past is dead, Rebecca. It has no hold on you any more—it is no part of you—as you arenow.

Rebecca.

Oh, you know that these are only phrases, dear. And innocence? Where am I to getthatfrom?

Rosmer.

[Sadly.] Ah,—innocence.

Rebecca.

Yes, innocence. That is the source of peace and happiness.Thatwas the vital truth you were to implant in the coming generation of happy noble-men——

Rosmer.

Oh, don’t remind me ofthat. It was only an abortive dream, Rebecca—an immature idea, that I myself no longer believe in.—Ah no, we cannot be ennobled from without, Rebecca.

Rebecca.

[Softly.] Not even by tranquil love, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

[Thoughtfully.] Yes—thatwould be the great thing—the most glorious in life, almost—if itwereso. [Moves uneasily.] But how can I be certain of that? How convince myself?

Rebecca.

Do you not believe me, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca—howcanI believe in you, fully? You who have all this while been cloaking, concealing such a multitude of things!—Now you come forward with something new. If you have a secret purpose in all this, tell me plainly what it is. Is there anything you want to gain by it? You know that I will gladly do everything I can for you.

Rebecca.

[Wringing her hands.] Oh this killing doubt——! Rosmer—Rosmer——!

Rosmer.

Yes, is it not terrible, Rebecca? But I cannot help it. I shall never be able to shake off the doubt. I can never be absolutely sure that you are mine in pure and perfect love.

Rebecca.

Is there nothing in the depths of your own heart that bears witness to the transformation in me? And tells you that it is due to you—and you alone?

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca—I no longer believe in my power of transforming any one. My faith in myself is utterly dead. I believe neither in myself nor in you.

Rebecca.

[Looks darkly at him.] Then how will you be able to live your life?

Rosmer.

That I don’t know. I cannot imagine how. I don’t think Icanlive it.—And I know of nothing in the world that is worth living for.

Rebecca.

Oh, life—life will renew itself. Let us hold fast to it, Rosmer.—We shall leave it soon enough.

Rosmer.

[Springs up restlessly.] Then give me my faith again! My faith inyou, Rebecca! My faith in your love! Proof! I must have proof!

Rebecca.

Proof? How can I give you proof——?

Rosmer.

Youmust! [Walks across the room.] I cannot bear this desolation—this horrible emptiness—this—this——

[A loud knock at the hall door.

Rebecca.

[Starts up from her chair.] Ah—did you hear that?

The door opens.Ulric Brendelenters. He has a white shirt on, a black coat and a good pair of boots, with his trousers tucked into them. Otherwise he is dressed as in the first Act. He looks excited.

Rosmer.

Ah, is it you, Mr. Brendel?

Brendel.

Johannes, my boy—hail—and farewell!

Rosmer.

Where are you going so late?

Brendel.

Downhill.

Rosmer.

How——?

Brendel.

I am going homewards, my beloved pupil. I am home-sick for the mighty Nothingness.

Rosmer.

Something has happened to you, Mr. Brendel! What is it?

Brendel.

So you observe the transformation? Yes—well you may. When I last set foot in these halls—I stood before you as a man of substance, and slapped my breast-pocket.

Rosmer.

Indeed! I don’t quite understand——

Brendel.

But as you see me this night, I am a deposed monarch on the ash-heap that was my palace.

Rosmer.

If there is anythingIcan do for you——

Brendel.

You have preserved your child-like heart, Johannes. Can you grant me a loan?

Rosmer.

Yes, yes, most willingly!

Brendel.

Can you spare me an ideal or two?

Rosmer.

What do you say?

Brendel.

One or two cast-off ideals. It would be an act of charity. For I’m cleaned out, my boy. Ruined, beggared.

Rebecca.

Have you not delivered your lecture?

Brendel.

No, seductive lady. What do you think? Just as I am standing ready to pour forth the horn of plenty, I make the painful discovery that I am bankrupt.

Rebecca.

But all your unwritten works——?

Brendel.

For five-and-twenty years I have sat like a miser on his double-locked treasure-chest. And then yesterday—when I open it and want to display the treasure—there’s none there! The teeth of time had ground it into dust. There was nix and nothing in the whole concern.

Rosmer.

But are you so sure of that?

Brendel.

There’s no room for doubt, my dear fellow. The President has convinced me of it.

Rosmer.

The President?

Brendel.

Well well—His Excellency then.Ganz nach Belieben.

Rosmer.

Whom do you mean?

Brendel.

Peter Mortensgård, of course.

Rosmer.

What?

Brendel.

[Mysteriously.] Hush, hush, hush! Peter Mortensgård is the lord and leader of the future. Never have I stood in a more august presence. Peter Mortensgård has the secret of omnipotence. He can do whatever he will.

Rosmer.

Oh, don’t believe that.

Brendel.

Yes, my boy! For Peter Mortensgård never wills more than he can do. Peter Mortensgård is capable of living his life without ideals. Andthat, do you see—thatis just the mighty secret of action and of victory. It is the sum of the whole world’s wisdom.Basta!

Rosmer.

[In a low voice.] Now I understand—why you leave here poorer than you came.

Brendel.

Bien!Then take aBeispielby your ancient teacher. Rub out all that he once imprinted on your mind. Build not thy house on shifting sand. And look ahead—and feel your way—before you build on this exquisite creature, who here lends sweetness to your life.

Rebecca.

Is it me you mean?

Brendel.

Yes, my fascinating mermaid.

Rebecca.

Why am I not to be built on?

Brendel.

[Comes a step nearer.] I gather that my former pupil has a great cause to carry forward to victory.

Rebecca.

What then——?

Brendel.

Victory is assured. But—mark me well—on one indispensable condition.

Rebecca.

Which is——?

Brendel.

[Takes her gently by the wrist.] That the woman who loves him shall gladly go out into the kitchen and hack off her tender, rosy-white little finger—here—justhereat the middle joint. Item, that the aforesaid loving woman—again gladly—shallslice off her incomparably-moulded left ear. [Lets her go, and turns toRosmer.] Farewell, my conquering Johannes.

Rosmer.

Are you going now? In the dark night?

Back to Index Next