Chapter 4

Rosmer.

My dear Kroll, you know how little I understand of politics. But I confess it seems to me that within the last few years people are beginning to show greater independence of thought.

Kroll.

Indeed! And you take it for granted that that must be an improvement! But in any case you arequite mistaken, my friend. Just inquire a little into the opinions that are current among the Radicals, both out here and in the town. They are neither more nor less than the wisdom that’s retailed in the “Beacon.”

Rebecca.

Yes; Mortensgård has great influence over many people hereabouts.

Kroll.

Yes, just think of it! A man of his foul antecedents—a creature that was turned out of his place as a schoolmaster on account of his immoral life! A fellow like that sets himself up as a leader of the people! And succeeds too! Actually succeeds! I hear he is going to enlarge his paper. I know on good authority that he is on the lookout for a capable assistant.

Rebecca.

I wonder that you and your friends don’t set up an opposition to him.

Kroll.

That is the very thing we are going to do. We have to-day bought theCounty News; there was no difficulty about the money question. But——[Turns toRosmer.] Now I come to my real errand. The difficulty lies in the conduct of the paper—the editing——. Tell me, Rosmer,—don’t you feel it your duty to undertake it, for the sake of the good cause?

Rosmer.

[Almost in consternation.] I!

Rebecca.

Oh, how can you think of such a thing?

Kroll.

I can quite understand your horror of public meetings, and your reluctance to expose yourself to their tender mercies. But an editor’s work is less conspicuous, or rather——

Rosmer.

No no, my dear friend, you must not ask me to do this.

Kroll.

I should be quite willing to try my own hand atthatstyle of work too; but I couldn’t possibly manage it. I have such a multitude of irons in the fire already. But for you, with no profession to tie you down——. Of course the rest of us would give you as much help as we could.

Rosmer.

I cannot, Kroll. I am not fitted for it.

Kroll.

Not fitted? You said the same thing when your father preferred you to the living here——

Rosmer.

And I was right. That was why I resigned it.

Kroll.

Oh, if only you are as good an editor as you were a clergyman, we shall not complain.

Rosmer.

My dear Kroll—I tell you once for all—I cannot do it.

Kroll.

Well, at any rate, you will lend us your name.

Rosmer.

My name?

Kroll.

Yes, the mere name, Johannes Rosmer, will be a great thing for the paper. We others are looked upon as confirmed partisans—indeed I hear I am denounced as a desperate fanatic—so that if we work the paper in our own names, we can’t reckon upon its making much way among the misguided masses. You, on the contrary, have always kept out of the fight. Everybody knows and values your humanity and uprightness—your delicacy of mind—your unimpeachable honour. And then the prestige of your former position as a clergyman still clings to you; and, to crown all, you have your grand old family name!

Rosmer.

Oh, my name——

Kroll.

[Points to the portraits.] Rosmers of Rosmersholm—clergymen and soldiers; government officials of high place and trust; gentlemen to the finger-tips, every man of them—a family that for nearly two centuries has held its place as the first in the district. [Lays his hand onRosmer’sshoulder.] Rosmer—you owe it to yourself and to the traditions of your race to take your share in guarding all that has hitherto been held sacred in our society. [Turns round.] What do you say, Miss West?

Rebecca.

[Laughing softly, as if to herself.] My dear Rector—I can’t tell you how ludicrous all this seems to me.

Kroll.

What do you say? Ludicrous?

Rebecca.

Yes, ludicrous. For you must let me tell you frankly——

Rosmer.

[Quickly.] No no—be quiet! Not just now!

Kroll.

[Looks from one to the other.] My dear friends, what on earth——? [Interrupting himself.] H’m!

Madame Helsethappears in the doorway on the right.

Madam Helseth.

There’s a man out in the kitchen passage that says he wants to see the Pastor.

Rosmer.

[Relieved.] Ah, very well. Ask him to come in.

Madam Helseth.

Into the sitting-room?

Rosmer.

Yes, of course.

Madam Helseth.

But he looks scarcely the sort of man to bring into the sitting-room.

Rebecca.

Why, what does he look like, Madam Helseth?

Madam Helseth.

Well, he’s not much to look at Miss, and that’s a fact.

Rosmer.

Did he not give his name?

Madam Helseth.

Yes—I think he said his name was Hekman or something of the sort.

Rosmer.

I know nobody of that name.

Madam Helseth.

And then he said he was called Uldric too.

Rosmer.

[In surprise.] Ulric Hetman! Was that it?

Madam Helseth.

Yes, so it was—Hetman.

Kroll.

I’ve surely heard that name before——

Rebecca.

Wasn’t that the name he used to write under—that strange being——

Rosmer.

[ToKroll.] It is Ulric Brendel’s pseudonym.

Kroll.

That black sheep Ulric Brendel’s—of course it is.

Rebecca.

Then he is still alive.

Rosmer.

I heard he had joined a company of strolling players.

Kroll.

When lastIheard of him, he was in the House of Correction.

Rosmer.

Ask him to come in, Madam Helseth.

Madam Helseth.

Oh, very well.[She goes out.

Kroll.

Are you really going to let a man like that into your house?

Rosmer.

You know he was once my tutor.

Kroll.

Yes, I know he went and crammed your head full of revolutionary ideas, until your father showed him the door—with his horsewhip.

Rosmer.

[With a touch of bitterness.] Father was a martinet at home as well as in his regiment.

Kroll.

Thank him in his grave for that, my dear Rosmer.—Well!

Madam Helsethopens the door on the right forUlric Brendel,and then withdraws, shutting the door behind him. He is a handsome man, with grey hair and beard; somewhat gaunt, but active and well set up. He is dressed like a common tramp; threadbare frock-coat; worn-out shoes; no shirt visible. He wears an old pair of black gloves, and carries a soft, greasy felt hat under his arm, and a walking-stick in his hand.

Ulric Brendel.

[Hesitates at first, then goes quickly up to theRector,and holds out his hand.] Good evening, Johannes!

Kroll.

Excuse me——

Brendel.

Did you expect to see me again? And within these hated walls too?

Kroll.

Excuse me——[Pointing.]There——

Brendel.

[Turns.] Right. There he is. Johannes—my boy—my best-beloved——!

Rosmer.

[Takes his hand.] My old teacher.

Brendel.

Notwithstanding certain painful memories, I could not pass by Rosmersholm without paying you a flying visit.

Rosmer.

You are heartily welcome here now. Be sure of that.

Brendel.

Ah, this charming lady——? [Bows.] Mrs. Rosmer, of course.

Rosmer.

Miss West.

Brendel.

A near relation, no doubt. And yonder unknown——? A brother of the cloth, I see.

Rosmer.

Rector Kroll.

Brendel.

Kroll? Kroll? Wait a bit?—Weren’t you a student of philology in your young days?

Kroll.

Of course I was.

Brendel.

WhyDonnerwetter, then I knew you!

Kroll.

Pardon me——

Brendel.

Weren’t you——

Kroll.

Pardon me——

Brendel.

——one of those myrmidons of morality that got me turned out of the Debating Club?

Kroll.

Very likely. But I disclaim any closer acquaintanceship.

Brendel.

Well, well!Nach Belieben, Herr Doctor.It’s all one to me. Ulric Brendel remains the man he is for all that.

Rebecca.

You are on your way into town, Mr. Brendel?

Brendel.

You have hit it, gracious lady. At certain intervals, I am constrained to strike a blow for existence. It goes against the grain; but—enfin—imperious necessity——

Rosmer.

Oh but, my dear Mr. Brendel, you must allow me to help you. In one way or another, I am sure——

Brendel.

Ha, such a proposal to me! Would you desecrate the bond that unites us? Never, Johannes, never!

Rosmer.

But what do you think of doing in town? Believe me, you won’t find it easy to——

Brendel.

Leave that to me, my boy. The die is cast. Simple as I stand here before you, I am engaged in a comprehensive campaign—more comprehensive than all my previous excursions put together. [ToRector Kroll.] Dare I ask the HerrProfessor—unter uns—have you a tolerably decent, reputable, and commodious Public Hall in your estimable city?

Kroll.

The hall of the Workmen’s Society is the largest.

Brendel.

And has the Herr Professor any official influence in this doubtless most beneficent Society?

Kroll.

I have nothing to do with it.

Rebecca.

[ToBrendel.] You should apply to Peter Mortensgård.

Brendel.

Pardon, madame—what sort of an idiot is he?

Rosmer.

What makes you take him for an idiot?

Brendel.

Can’t I tell at once by the name that it belongs to aplebeian?plebeian?

Kroll.

I did not expect that answer.

Brendel.

But I will conquer my reluctance. There is no alternative. When a man stands—as I do—at a turning-point in his career——. It is settled. I will approach this individual—will open personal negotiations——

Rosmer.

Are you really and seriously standing at a turning-point?

Brendel.

Surely my own boy knows that, stand he where he may, Ulric Brendel always stands really and seriously.—Yes, Johannes, I am going to put on a new man—to throw off the modest reserve I have hitherto maintained.

Rosmer.

How——?

Brendel.

I am about to take hold of life with a strong hand; to step forth; to assert myself. We live in a tempestuous, an equinoctial age.—I am about to lay my mite on the altar of Emancipation.

Kroll.

Youtoo?

Brendel.

[To them all.] Is the local public at all familiar with my occasional writings?

Kroll.

No, I must candidly confess that——

Rebecca.

I have read several of them. My adopted father had them in his library.

Brendel.

Fair lady, then you have wasted your time. For, let me tell you, they are so much rubbish.

Rebecca.

Indeed!

Brendel.

What you have read, yes. My really important works no man or woman knows. No one—except myself.

Rebecca.

How doesthathappen?

Brendel.

Because they are not written.

Rosmer.

But, my dear Mr. Brendel——

Brendel.

You know, my Johannes, that I am a bit of a Sybarite—aFeinschmecker. I have been so all my days. I like to take my pleasures in solitude; for then I enjoy them doubly—tenfold. So, you see, when golden dreams descended and enwrapped me—when new, dizzy, far-reaching thoughts were born in me, and wafted me aloft on their sustaining pinions—I bodied them forth in poems, visions, pictures—in the rough, as it were, you understand.

Rosmer.

Yes, yes.

Brendel.

Oh, what pleasures, what intoxications I have enjoyed in my time! The mysterious bliss of creation—in the rough, as I said—applause, gratitude, renown, the wreath of bays—all these I have garnered with full hands quivering with joy.I have sated myself, in my secret thoughts, with a rapture—oh! so intense, so inebriating——!

Kroll.

H’m.

Rosmer.

But you have written nothing down?

Brendel.

Not a word. The soulless toil of the scrivener has always aroused a sickening aversion in me. And besides, why should I profane my own ideals, when I could enjoy them in their purity by myself? But now they shall be offered up. I assure you I feel like a mother who delivers her tender daughters into their bridegrooms’ arms. But I will offer them up, none the less. I will sacrifice them on the altar of Emancipation. A series of carefully elaborated lectures—over the whole country——!

Rebecca.

[With animation.] This is noble of you, Mr. Brendel! You are yielding up the dearest thing you possess.

Rosmer.

The only thing.

Rebecca.

[Looking significantly at Rosmer.] How many are there who do as much—whodaredo as much?

Rosmer.

[Returning the look.] Who knows?

Brendel.

My audience is touched. That does my heartgood—and steels my will. So now I will proceed to action. Stay—one thing more. [To theRector.] Can you tell me, Herr Preceptor,—is there such a thing as a Temperance Society in the town? A Total Abstinence Society? I need scarcely ask.

Kroll.

Yes, there is. I am the president, at your service.

Brendel.

I saw it in your face! Well, it is by no means impossible that I may come to you and enrol myself as a member for a week.

Kroll.

Excuse me—we don’t receive members by the week.

Brendel.

À la bonne heure, Herr Pedagogue. Ulric Brendel has never forced himself into that sort of Society. [Turns.] But I must not prolong my stay in this house, so rich in memories. I must get on to the town and select a suitable lodging. I presume there is a decent hotel in the place.

Rebecca.

Mayn’t I offer you anything before you go?

Brendel.

Of what sort, gracious lady?

Rebecca.

A cup of tea, or——

Brendel.

I thank my bountiful hostess—but I am alwaysloath to trespass on private hospitality. [Waves his hand.] Farewell, gentlefolks all! [Goes towards the door, but turns again.] Oh, by the way—Johannes—Pastor Rosmer—for the sake of our ancient friendship, will you do your former teacher a service?

Rosmer.

Yes, with all my heart.

Brendel.

Good. Then lend me—for a day or two—a starched shirt—with cuffs.

Rosmer.

Nothing else?

Brendel.

For you see I am travelling on foot—at present. My trunk is being sent after me.

Rosmer.

Quite so. But is there nothing else?

Brendel.

Well, do you know—perhaps you could spare me an oldish, well-worn summer overcoat.

Rosmer.

Yes, yes; certainly I can.

Brendel.

And if a respectable pair of boots happened to go along with the coat——

Rosmer.

That we can manage too. As soon as you let us know your address, we will send the things in.

Brendel.

Not on any account. Pray do not let me give you any trouble! I will take the bagatelles with me.

Rosmer.

As you please. Come upstairs with me then.

Rebecca.

Letmego. Madam Helseth and I will see to it.

Brendel.

I cannot think of suffering this distinguished lady to——

Rebecca.

Oh, nonsense! Come along, Mr. Brendel.

[She goes out to the right.

Rosmer.

[Detaining him.] Tell me—is there nothing else I can do for you?

Brendel.

Upon my word, I know of nothing more. Well, yes, damn it all—now that I think of it——! Johannes, do you happen to have eight crowns in your pocket?

Rosmer.

Let me see. [Opens his purse.] Here are two ten-crown notes.

Brendel.

Well well, never mind! I can take them. I can always get them changed in the town. Thanks in the meantime. Remember it was two tennersyou lent me. Good-night my own dear boy; Good-night, respected Sir.

[Goes out to the right.Rosmertakes leave of him, and shuts the door behind him.

Kroll.

Merciful Heaven—sothatis the Ulric Brendel people once expected such great things of.

Rosmer.

[Quietly.] At least he has had the courage to live his life his own way. I don’t thinkthatis such a small matter either.

Kroll.

What? A life like his! I almost believe he has it in him to turn your head afresh.

Rosmer.

Oh no. My mind is quite clear now, upon all points.

Kroll.

I wish I could believe it, my dear Rosmer. You are so terribly impressionable.

Rosmer.

Let us sit down. I want to talk to you.

Kroll.

Yes; let us.[They seat themselves on the sofa.

Rosmer.

[After a slight pause.] Don’t you think we lead a pleasant and comfortable life here?

Kroll.

Yes, your life is pleasant and comfortable now—and peaceful. You have found yourself a home, Rosmer. And I have lost mine.

Rosmer.

My dear friend, don’t say that. The wound will heal again in time.

Kroll.

Never; never. The barb will always rankle. Things can never be as they were.

Rosmer.

Listen to me, Kroll. We have been fast friends for many and many a year. Does it seem to you conceivable that our friendship should ever go to wreck?

Kroll.

I know of nothing in the world that could estrange us. What puts that into your head?

Rosmer.

You attach such paramount importance to uniformity of opinions and views.

Kroll.

No doubt; but we two are in practical agreement—at any rate on the great essential questions.

Rosmer.

[In a low voice.] No; not now.

Kroll.

[Tries to spring up.] What is this?

Rosmer.

[Holding him.] No you must sit still—I entreat you, Kroll.

Kroll.

What can this mean? I don’t understand you. Speak plainly.

Rosmer.

A new summer has blossomed in my soul. I see with eyes grown young again. And so now I stand——

Kroll.

Where—where, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Where your children stand.

Kroll.

You? You! Impossible! Where do you say you stand?

Rosmer.

On the same side as Laurits and Hilda.

Kroll.

[Bows his head.] An apostate! Johannes Rosmer an apostate!

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