Three Dramas by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (classic books for 12 year olds .TXT) 📕

away from here, quietly!

John. I know all about it! I was following you and the Editor all the time, you know!

Evje. What?

John. These articles, that were to go in the paper--the printing was at a standstill, waiting for them.

Evje. Hush, hush, John! So you overheard that, did you? You are too clever; you ought never to have been a servant.--Now, be off with you! Here is a shilling or two for you. Good-bye.

John. Thank you very much, sir.--This was how it was, sir. You see, I thought of the number of times I had run over to the printer's with messages when that nice Editor gentleman was spending an evening with you--and so I thought I might just as well run over with this one.

Evje (starting back in alarm). What? What have you done?

John. Just to do you a good turn, sir, I ran along and told them they might print those articles.

Evje. What articles?

John. The ones about you, sir. "Print away," I said--and they printed away. By Jove, how they worked, and then off to the post with the papers!

Evje. You had the impudence, you--! Ah, it's not true! I saw the printer's boy myself, running to the office to countermand the instructions.

John. I caught him up outside here and told him that a message had been sent from Mr. Evje's house. And I gave him sixpence to go to the theatre with; but he must have had to run for it, to be in time, because I am sure it was after seven. Excuse me, sir, but it _is_ after seven now, isn't it?

Evje. You scoundrel! You vindictive brute!

John. You can have a look at the paper, sir, if you like.

Evje. Have _you_ got a copy?

John. Yes, sir, the first copy struck off is always sent to the Editor, so I volunteered to bring it to him. But you must be anxious to see it, sir! (Holds it out to EVJE.)

Evje (snatching it from him). Give it to me! Let me see--. (Moves towards his door, but stops.) No, my wife mustn't--. Here, under the gas-lamp! This filthy fog! I can't--. (Feels in his pocket for his glasses, and pasts them on.) Ah, that's better! (Holds the paper under the light.) What a mischance! The blackguard--! Where is the article, then? Oh, here--I can't see properly, my heart is beating so!

John. Shall I run for the doctor, sir?

Evje. Will you go away, you--! (Holds the paper first up, and then down, in his attempts to see better.) Ah, here it is! "The Stock Exchange Committee"--oh! (Lowers the paper.)

John (mimicking him). Oh!

Evje (trying to read). What a vile thing to do!

John. Oh, go on! go on!

Evje (as he reads). This beats everything I ever--Oh!

John. Oh! We _are_ in a bad way!

Evje (wiping his forehead). What a different thing it is to read libellous attacks on others--and on one's self! (Goes on reading.) Oh! Oh! What horrible, revolting rascality! What is it he says here? I must read through it again! Oh, oh!

John. And often of a morning, when you have been reading the paper, I have heard you laughing till the bed shook under you!

Evje. Yes, I who have so often laughed at others! (Reads.) No, this is beyond belief! I can't read any more! This will ruin my position in the town; I can hear every one laughing at me--he knows all my weaknesses, and has managed to make it all so hideously ludicrous! (Tries to go on reading.) Why, here is some more! (Reads.) It begins even worse than the other! (Lowers the paper, panting, then tries to go on reading.) No, I can't--I can't! I must wait! Everything seems going round and round--and my heart is beating so violently that I know I shall have one of my attacks! What a devil it is that I have been making a friend of! What a creature to have broken bread with!--an unprincipled scoundrel! And the disgrace of it!--the disgrace! What will they say at the Exchange? What will--? I shall not dare to go out of my house, at least for some weeks! And then people will only say I have taken to my bed! Oh, oh! I feel as if it were the end of everything!

John (solicitously). Can I help you, sir?

Evje. Will you leave me alone--! No, I will have my revenge on him immediately! I will go and ring his bell, and go into his house and call him a scoundrel and spit in his face--! Did I bring my stick out with me? Where is my stick? I will send my man for it, and then I will thrash him round and round his own room!

John (eagerly). I will fetch it for you, sir!

Evje (without hearing him). No, it would only make more scandal!--How can I take my revenge? I must do him some injury--some real injury that will seem to poison his food for him and rob him of his rest. Scoundrels like that don't deserve sleep! It must be something, too, that will make his family every bit as unhappy as mine will be when they have read this--something that will make them hide their heads for shame--something that will make them terrified every time their door-bell rings, out of shame for what their servants may hear! No, no, I am getting as evil-minded as he is, now!--What a horrible trade--for ever sowing the seeds of sin and reaping a crop of curses! Now I understand what Harald Rejn meant by saying that no one ought to give his help to such things!--Heavens, hear my vow: never again will I give my help to such things!--What am I to say to my wife--my dear, good wife, who has no suspicion how disgraced I am! And Gertrud, our good Gertrud--ah, at all events I can give her some pleasure at once. I cannot conceal it from them; but I will tell them myself, so that they shall not read it.

John. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?

Evje (almost screaming at him). Once for all, can't you let me alone!

Mrs. Evje (leaning out of a window she has opened). The sound must have come from the street, all the same. Are you there, my dear?

Evje (drawing back in alarm). There she is! Shall I answer?

Mrs. Evje. Are you there, my dear?

Evje. Yes, dear, here I am!

Mrs. Evje. So you are! I heard your voice, and looked all over the house. What is the matter, dear?

Evje. Oh, I am so unhappy!

Mrs. Evje. Good heavens, are you, dear? Come along in--or shall I come down to you?

Evje. No, I will come in. Shut the window, or you will catch cold.

Mrs. Evje. Do you know, Gertrud is sitting up here, crying?

Evje. Good gracious, is she? I will come up--I will come up!

John. I will help him up, ma'am! (Pretends to be doing so.)

Mrs. Evje. Is that you, John?

Evje (in a low voice). Will you be off!

John. Yes, it is me, ma'am. He is so unwell.

Mrs. Evje. Is he! Heavens, it is one of his attacks! Help him, John!

Evje (as before). Don't you dare!

John (who has rung the bell loudly). I do hope you will moon be better, sir! (Calls up to the window.) I can leave him now, ma'am! (To EVJE, as he goes.) This has been a bit of luck, for me; but you shall have some more of it! (Disappears into the fog as EVJE goes into his house. The two Passers-by, that were seen at the beginning of the scene, are now indistinctly seen returning along the street at the back.)

First Passer-by. Well, the land of Fogs used to be thought by the ancients to lie in the north, where all confused ideas come from--

Second Passer-by (who does not seem to be able to get a word in). But, listen to me for a moment-do you think it means--?

[Curtain]


ACT III


(SCENE.--A room in HALVDAN REJN's house. He is lying, supported on pillows, on a sofa on the left-hand side of the room. There is a table in the background, and another near the sofa. A lamp is hanging from the ceiling, and another standing on the table at the back. HAAKON REJN, his dress proclaiming him to be a well-to-do yeoman farmer, is sitting on a chair by the sofa.)

Halvdan. So she couldn't come?

Haakon. No; there are the youngsters, you know--she finds it difficult to get away.

Halvdan (after a moment's silence). Remember to thank her for all her kindness to me. The happiest moments of my life have been those Sundays and evenings that she and you and I spent together at your house. (A pause.)

Haakon. She wanted very much to know how you were feeling--whether you, who have suffered so much, are at peace now.

Halvdan. At peace? A man who has to die with all his work unfinished, cannot easily root out all thoughts of that from his heart.

Haakon. You should try to lay in God's hands all that you have striven for.

Halvdan. That is what I struggle daily to do. (A pause.)

Haakon. A sister of my wife's, who was a widow and badly off, died leaving three young children. But she was glad to die. "Their Heavenly Father will help them better when I am out of the way," she said. "I took up too much room," she said; "I know I have often stood in their way." (A pause.)

Halvdan. You tell that just as your wife would; she told me that story once.

Haakon. I was to tell you from her that she believes you are to die in order that what you have worked for may come to its fullest fruit. She thinks that when you are gone, people will appreciate better what your aims were.

Halvdan. There is some comfort in the thought that I may be dying in order that what I have loved may live. I have already given up happiness-even honour-for it; I gladly give my life for it now. (A pause.)

Haakon. Do you bear ill-will to any of those who have opposed you so cruelly?

Halvdan. To no one.

Haakon. Not even to those whose doing it is that you are lying here?

Halvdan. No, to no one. (A pause.)

Haakon. Could you bear to read something hateful about yourself to-day?

Halvdan. I don't know.

Haakon. Then you have not done with it all yet.

Halvdan. No, I know I have not. It is only sometimes that the busy world outside seems to me like a ship sailing idly before the wind. More often, I am back in the midst of it again--planning, hoping, praying! I am young, you know, and have had to suffer so much--there was so much I wanted to do. (Lifts a handkerchief to his forehead. HAAKON helps him to wipe his face with it. A pause.)

Haakon. But it must be a comfort to you, too, that Harald is taking up what you are laying down. There is good stuff in him.

Halvdan. Yes.

Haakon. And he never says more than is necessary. The country folk will understand him all the better for it.