Chapter 6

Rosmer.

I remember Miss West lending me a work of the kind. The Doctor left her his library, you know. But, my dear Kroll, you surely cannot suppose we were so reckless as to let my poor sick wife get hold of any such ideas? I can solemnly assure you that the fault was not ours.It was her own distempered brain that drove her into these wild aberrations.

Kroll.

One thing at any rate I can tell you; and that is, that poor, overstrung, tortured Beata put an end to her life in order that you might live happily—live freely, and—after your own heart.

Rosmer.

[Starts half up from his chair.] What do you mean by that?

Kroll.

Listen to me quietly, Rosmer; for now I can speak of it. In the last year of her life she came to me twice to pour forth all her anguish and despair.

Rosmer.

On this same subject?

Kroll.

No. The first time she came, it was to declare that you were on the road to perversion—that you were going to break with the faith of your fathers.

Rosmer.

[Eagerly.] What you say is impossible, Kroll! Absolutely impossible! You must be mistaken.

Kroll.

And why?

Rosmer.

Because while Beata was alive I was still wrestling with myself in doubt. And that fight Ifought out alone and in utter silence, I don’t think even Rebecca——

Kroll.

Rebecca?

Rosmer.

Oh well—Miss West. I call her Rebecca for convenience’ sake.

Kroll.

So I have remarked.

Rosmer.

So it is inconceivable to me how Beata could have got hold of the idea. And why did she not speak to me myself about it? She never did—she never said a single word.

Kroll.

Poor creature—she begged and imploredmeto talk to you.

Rosmer.

And why did you not?

Kroll.

At that time I never for a moment doubted that she was out of her mind. Such an accusation against a man like you!—And then she came again—about a month later. This time she seemed outwardly calmer; but as she was going she said: “They may soon expect the White Horse at Rosmersholm now.”

Rosmer.

Yes, yes. The White Horse—she often spoke of it.

Kroll.

And when I tried to divert her mind from such melancholy fancies, she only answered: “I have not long to live; for Johannes must marry Rebecca at once.”

Rosmer.

[Almost speechless.] What do you say? I marry——?

Kroll.

That was on a Thursday afternoon——. On the Saturday evening she threw herself from the bridge into the mill-race.

Rosmer.

And you never warned us——!

Kroll.

You know very well how often she used to say that she felt her end was near.

Rosmer.

Yes, I know. But nevertheless—youshouldhave warned us!

Kroll.

I did think of it; but not till too late.

Rosmer.

But afterwards, why did you not——? Why have you said nothing about all this?

Kroll.

What good would it have done for me to come torturing and harassing you still further? I took all she said for mere wild, empty ravings—until yesterday evening.

Rosmer.

Then you have now changed your opinion?

Kroll.

Did not Beata see quite clearly when she declared you were about to desert the faith of your fathers?

Rosmer.

[Looks fixedly, straight before him.] I cannot understand it. It is the most incomprehensible thing in the world.

Kroll.

Incomprehensible or not—there it is. And now I ask you, Rosmer,—how much truth is there in her other accusation? The last one, I mean.

Rosmer.

Accusation? Wasthatan accusation?

Kroll.

Perhaps you did not notice the way she worded it. She had to go, she said—why?

Rosmer.

In order that I might marry Rebecca——

Kroll.

These were not precisely her words. Beata used a different expression. She said: “I have not long to live; for Johannesmustmarry Rebeccaat once.”

Rosmer.

[Looks at him for a moment; then rises.] Now I understand you, Kroll.

Kroll.

And what then? What is your answer?

Rosmer.

[Still quiet and self-restrained.] To such an unheard-of——? The only fitting answer would be to point to the door.

Kroll.

[Rises.] Well and good.

Rosmer.

[Stands in front of him.] Listen to me. For more than a year—ever since Beata left us—Rebecca West and I have lived alone here at Rosmersholm. During all that time you have known of Beata’s accusation against us. But I have never for a moment noticed that you disapproved of Rebecca’s living in my house.

Kroll.

I did not know till yesterday evening that it was an unbelieving man who was living with an—emancipated woman.

Rosmer.

Ah——! Then you do not believe that purity of mind is to be found among the unbelieving and the emancipated? You do not believe that morality may be an instinctive law of their nature!

Kroll.

I have no great faith in the morality that is not founded on the teachings of the Church.

Rosmer.

And you mean this to apply to Rebecca and me? To the relation between us two——?

Kroll.

Not even out of consideration for you two can I depart from my opinion that there is no unfathomable gulf between free thought and—h’m——

Rosmer.

And what?

Kroll.

——and free love,—since youwillhave it.

Rosmer.

[In a low voice.] And you are not ashamed to say this to me! You, who have known me from my earliest youth!

Kroll.

For that very reason. I know how easily you are influenced by the people you associate with. And this Rebecca of yours—well, Miss West then—we really know little or nothing about her. In short, Rosmer—I will not give you up. And you—you must try to save yourself in time.

Rosmer.

Save myself? How——?

Madam Helsethpeeps in at the door on the left.

Rosmer.

What do you want?

Madam Helseth.

I wanted to ask Miss West to step downstairs.

Rosmer.

Miss West is not up here.

Madam Helseth.

Isn’t she? [Looks round the room.] Well, that’s strange.

[She goes.

Rosmer.

You were saying——?

Kroll.

Listen to me. I am not going to inquire too closely into the secret history of what went on here in Beata’s lifetime—and may still be going on. I know that your marriage was a most unhappy one; and I suppose that must be taken as some sort of excuse——

Rosmer.

Oh, how little you really know me——!

Kroll.

Don’t interrupt me. What I mean is this: if your present mode of life with Miss West is to continue, it is absolutely necessary that the change of views—the unhappy backsliding—brought about by her evil influence, should be hushed up. Let me speak! Let me speak! I say, if the worst comes to the worst, in Heaven’s name think and believe whatever you like about everything under the sun. But you must keep your views to yourself. These things are purely personal matters, after all. There is no need to proclaim them from the housetops.

Rosmer.

I feel it an absolute necessity to get outofofa false and equivocal position.

Kroll.

But you have a duty towards the traditions ofyour race, Rosmer! Remember that! Rosmersholm has, so to speak, radiated morality and order from time immemorial—yes, and respectful conformity to all that is accepted and sanctioned by the best people. The whole district has taken its stamp from Rosmersholm. It would lead to deplorable, irremediable confusion if it were known that you had broken with what I may call the hereditary idea of the house of Rosmer.

Rosmer.

My dear Kroll, I cannot see the matter in that light. I look upon it as my imperative duty to spread a little light and gladness here, where the Rosmer family has from generation to generation been a centre of darkness and oppression.

Kroll.

[Looks at him severely.] Yes, that would be a worthy life-work for the last of your race! No, Rosmer; let such things alone; you are the last man for such a task. You were born to be a quiet student.

Rosmer.

Perhaps so. But for once in a way I mean to bear my part in the battle of life.

Kroll.

And do you know what that battle of life will mean for you? It will mean a life-and-death struggle with all your friends.

Rosmer.

[Quietly.] They cannot all be such fanatics as you.

Kroll.

You are a credulous creature, Rosmer. An inexperienced creature too. You have no conception of the overwhelming storm that will burst upon you.

Madam Helsethlooks in at the door on the left.

Madam Helseth.

Miss West wants to know——

Rosmer.

What is it?

Madam Helseth.

There’s a man downstairs wanting to have a word with the Pastor.

Rosmer.

Is it the man who was here yesterday evening?

Madam Helseth.

No, it’s that Mortensgård.

Rosmer.

Mortensgård?

Kroll.

Aha! So it has come to this, has it?—Already!

Rosmer.

What does he want with me? Why didn’t you send him away?

Madam Helseth.

Miss West said I was to ask if he might come upstairs.

Rosmer.

Tell him I’m engaged——

Kroll.

[ToMadam Helseth.] Let him come up, Madam Helseth.

[Madam Helsethgoes.

Kroll.

[Takes up his hat.] I retire from the field—for the moment. But the main battle has yet to be fought.

Rosmer.

On my honour, Kroll—I have nothing whatever to do with Mortensgård.

Kroll.

I do not believe you. On no subject and in no relation whatever will I henceforth believe you. It is war to the knife now. We will try whether we cannot disarm you.

Rosmer.

Oh Kroll—how low—how very low you have sunk!

Kroll.

I? And you think you have the right to say that to me! Remember Beata!

Rosmer.

Still harping uponthat?

Kroll.

No. You must solve the enigma of the mill-race according to your own conscience—if you have anything of the sort left.

Peter Mortensgårdenters softly and quietly from the left. He is a small, wiry man with thin reddish hair and beard.

Kroll.

[With a look of hatred.] Ah, here we have the “Beacon”—burning at Rosmersholm! [Buttons his coat.] Well, now I can no longer hesitate what course to steer.

Mortensgård.

[Deferentially.] The “Beacon” may always be relied upon to light the Rector home.

Kroll.

Yes; you have long shown your goodwill. To be sure there’s a commandment about bearing false witness against your neighbour——

Mortensgård.

Rector Kroll need not instruct me in the commandments.

Kroll.

Not even in the seventh?

Rosmer.

Kroll——!

Mortensgård.

If I needed instruction, it would rather be the Pastor’s business.

Kroll.

[With covert sarcasm.] The Pastor’s? Oh yes, unquestionably Pastor Rosmer is the man forthat.—Good luck to your conference, gentlemen!

[Goes out and slams the door behind him.

Rosmer.

[Keeps his eyes fixed on the closed door and says to himself.] Well, well—so be it then. [Turns.] Willyou be good enough to tell me, Mr. Mortensgård, what brings you out here to me?

Mortensgård.

It was really Miss West I came to see. I wanted to thank her for the friendly note I received from her yesterday.

Rosmer.

I know she wrote to you. Have you seen her then?

Mortensgård.

Yes, for a short time. [Smiles slightly.] I hear there has been a certain change of views out here at Rosmersholm.

Rosmer.

My views are altered in many respects. I might almost say in all.

Mortensgård.

So Miss West told me; and that’s why she thought I had better come up and talk things over with the Pastor.

Rosmer.

What things, Mr. Mortensgård?

Mortensgård.

May I announce in the “Beacon” that there has been a change in your views—that you have joined the party of freedom and progress?

Rosmer.

Certainly you may. In fact, I beg you to make the announcement.

Mortensgård.

Then it shall appear in to-morrow’s paper. Itwill cause a great sensation when it’s known that Pastor Rosmer of Rosmersholm is prepared to take up arms for the cause of light, inthatsense too.

Rosmer.

I don’t quite understand you.

Mortensgård.

I mean that the moral position of our party is greatly strengthened whenever we gain an adherent of serious, Christian principles.

Rosmer.

[With some surprise.] Then you do not know——? Did not Miss West tell you that too?

Mortensgård.

What, Pastor Rosmer? Miss West was in a great hurry. She said I was to go upstairs and hear the rest from yourself.

Rosmer.

Well, in that case I may tell you that I have emancipated myself entirely, and on every side. I have broken with all the dogmas of the Church. Henceforth they are nothing to me.

Mortensgård.

[Looks at him in amazement.] Well—if the skies were to fall I couldn’t be more——! Pastor Rosmer himself announces——

Rosmer.

Yes, I now stand where you have stood for many years. That, too, you may announce in the “Beacon” to-morrow.

Mortensgård.

That too? No, my dear Pastor—excuse me—I don’t think it would be wise to touch on that side of the matter.

Rosmer.

Not touch on it?

Mortensgård.

Not at present, I mean.

Rosmer.

I don’t understand——

Mortensgård.

Well you see, Pastor Rosmer—you probably don’t know the ins and outs of things so well as I do. But, since you have come over to the party of freedom—and, as I hear from Miss West, you intend to take an active share in the movement—I presume you would like to be of as much service as possible, both to the cause in general and to this particular agitation.

Rosmer.

Yes, that is my earnest wish.

Mortensgård.

Good. But now I must tell you, Pastor Rosmer, that if you openly declare your defection from the Church, you tie your own hands at the very outset.

Rosmer.

Do you think so?

Mortensgård.

Yes; believe me, you won’t be able to do muchfor the cause, in this part of the country at any rate. And besides—we have plenty of freethinkers already, Pastor Rosmer—I might almost say too many. What the party requires, is a Christian element—something that every one must respect.Thatis what we are sadly in need of. And therefore I advise you to keep your own counsel about what doesn’t concern the public. That’s my view of the matter, at least.

Rosmer.

I understand. Then if I openly confess my apostasy, you dare not have anything to do with me?

Mortensgård.

[Shaking his head.] I scarcely like to risk it, Pastor Rosmer. I have made it a rule for some time past not to support any one or anything that is actively opposed to the Church.

Rosmer.

Then you have yourself returned to the Church?

Mortensgård.

That concerns no one but myself.

Rosmer.

Ah, so that is it. Now I understand you.

Mortensgård.

Pastor Rosmer—you ought to remember that I—I in particular—have not full liberty of action.

Rosmer.

What hampers you?

Mortensgård.

The fact that I am a marked man.

Rosmer.

Ah—indeed.

Mortensgård.

A marked man, Pastor Rosmer. You, above all men, should remember that; for I have chiefly you to thank for the scandal that branded me.

Rosmer.

If I had then stood where I stand now, I should have dealt more gently with your offence.

Mortensgård.

That I don’t doubt. But it is too late now. You have branded me once for all—branded me for life. I suppose you can scarcely understand what that means. But now you may perhaps come to feel the smart of it yourself, Pastor Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Mortensgård.

Yes. You surely don’t suppose that Rector Kroll and his set will ever forgive a desertion like yours? I hear the “County News” is going to be very savage in future. You too may find yourself a marked man before long.

Rosmer.

In personal matters, Mr. Mortensgård, I feel myself secure from attack. My life is beyond reproach.

Mortensgård.

[With a sly smile.] That’s a large word, Mr. Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Perhaps; but I have a right to use it.

Mortensgård.

Even if you were to scrutinise your conduct as closely as you once scrutinised mine?

Rosmer.

Your tone is very curious. What are you hinting at? Anything definite?

Mortensgård.

Yes, something definite. Only one thing. Butthatmight be bad enough, if malicious opponents got wind of it.

Rosmer.

Will you have the kindness to let me hear what it is?

Mortensgård.

Cannot you guess for yourself, Pastor?

Rosmer.

No, certainly not. I have not the slightest idea.

Mortensgård.

Well well, I suppose I must come out with it then.—I have in my possession a strange letter, dated from Rosmersholm.

Rosmer.

Miss West’s letter, do you mean? Is it so strange?

Mortensgård.

No, there’s nothing strange about that. But I once received another letter from this house.

Rosmer.

Also from Miss West?

Mortensgård.

No, Mr. Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Well then, from whom? From whom?

Mortensgård.

From the late Mrs. Rosmer.

Rosmer.

From my wife! You received a letter from my wife!

Mortensgård.

I did.

Rosmer.

When?

Mortensgård.

Towards the close of Mrs. Rosmer’s life. Perhaps about a year and a half ago. That is the letter I call strange.

Rosmer.

I suppose you know that my wife’s mind was affected at that time.

Mortensgård.

Yes; I know many people thought so. But I don’t think there was anything in the letter to show it. When I call it strange, I mean in another sense.

Rosmer.

And what in the world did my poor wife take it into her head to write toyouabout?

Mortensgård.

I have the letter at home. She begins to the effect that she is living in great anxiety and fear; there are so many malicious people about here, she says; and they think of nothing but causing you trouble and injury.

Rosmer.

Me?

Mortensgård.

Yes, so she says. And then comes the strangest part of all. Shall I go on, Pastor Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Assuredly! Tell me everything, without reserve.

Mortensgård.

The deceased lady begs and implores me to be magnanimous. She knows, she says, that it was her husband that had me dismissed from my post as teacher; and she conjures me by all that’s sacred not to avenge myself.

Rosmer.

How did she suppose you could avenge yourself?

Mortensgård.

The letter says that if I should hear rumours of sinful doings at Rosmersholm, I am not to believe them; they are only spread abroad by wicked people who wish to make you unhappy.

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