Chapter IV: Part 4

I cannot. I must extricate myself from these sordid surroundings. I can’t go on living in this hugger-mugger way. Here have I got to be hail-fellow-well-met with Dick, Tom, and Harry; to whisper in corners with them, to hob-nob with them, to laugh at their beery witticisms; to be hand in glove with hobbledehoys and unlicked cubs. How can I keep my love of the People untarnished in the midst of all this? I feel as if all the electricity went out of my words. I have no elbow-room, no fresh air to breathe. Oh, a longing comes over me at times for exquisite women! I want something that brings beauty with it! I lie here in a sort of turbid eddy, while out there the clear blue current sweeps past me——But what can _you_ understand of all this!

LUNDESTAD.

[_Enters from the back._] Ah, here we are. Good-morning, gentlemen.

STENSGÅRD.

I have news for you, Mr. Lundestad! Do you know who the Chamberlain is voting for?

FIELDBO.

Silence! It’s dishonourable of you.

STENSGÅRD.

What do I care? He is voting for the Sheriff and the Provost.

LUNDESTAD.

Oh, that was to be expected. You went and ruined your chances with him—though I implored you to play your cards neatly.

STENSGÅRD.

I shall play them neatly enough—in future.

FIELDBO.

Take care—two can play at that game.

[_Goes out to the right._

STENSGÅRD.

That fellow has something up his sleeve. Have you any idea what it can be?

LUNDESTAD.

No, I haven’t. But, by-the-bye, I see you are flourishing in the paper to-day.

STENSGÅRD.

I?

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, with a nice little epitaph on me.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, that’s that beast Aslaksen, of course——

LUNDESTAD.

Your attack on the Chamberlain is in too.

STENSGÅRD.

I don’t know anything about that. If it’s to be war between the Chamberlain and me, I have sharper weapons.

LUNDESTAD.

Indeed!

STENSGÅRD.

Have you ever seen this bill? Look at it. Is it good?

LUNDESTAD.

Good, you say? This bill here?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, look closely at it.

HEIRE.

[_Enters from the right._] Why, what the deuce can be the meaning of——Ah, how interesting! Do remain as you are, gentlemen, I beg! Do you know what you irresistibly remind me of? Of a summer night in the Far North.

LUNDESTAD.

That’s a curious simile.

HEIRE.

A very obvious one—the setting and the rising sun together. Delightful, delightful! But, talking of that, what the deuce is the matter outside there? Your fellow citizens are scuttling about like frightened fowls, cackling and crowing and not knowing what perch to settle on.

STENSGÅRD.

Well, it’s an occasion of great importance.

HEIRE.

Oh, you and your importance! No, it’s something quite different, my dear friends. There are whispers of a great failure; a bankruptcy—oh, not political, Mr. Lundestad; I don’t mean that!

STENSGÅRD.

A bankruptcy?

HEIRE.

Hee-hee! That puts life into our legal friend. Yes, a bankruptcy; some one is on his last legs; the axe is laid to the root of the tree——I say no more! Two strange gentlemen have been seen driving past; but where to? To whose address? Do you know anything, Mr. Lundestad?

LUNDESTAD.

I know how to hold my tongue, Mr. Heire.

HEIRE.

Of course; you are a statesman, a diplomatist. But I must be off and find out all I can about it. It’s such sport with these heroes of finance: they are like beads on a string—when one slips off, all the rest follow.

[_Goes out by the back._

STENSGÅRD.

Is there any truth in all this gossip?

LUNDESTAD.

You showed me a bill; I thought I saw young Mr. Bratsberg’s name upon it?

STENSGÅRD.

The Chamberlain’s too.

LUNDESTAD.

And you asked me if it was good?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes; just look at it.

LUNDESTAD.

It’s perhaps not so good as it might be.

STENSGÅRD.

You see it then?

LUNDESTAD.

What?

STENSGÅRD.

That it is a forgery.

LUNDESTAD.

A forgery? Forged bills are often the safest; people redeem them first.

STENSGÅRD.

But what do you think? Isn’t it a forgery?

LUNDESTAD.

I don’t much like the look of it.

STENSGÅRD.

How so?

LUNDESTAD.

I’m afraid there are too many of these about, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

What! It’s not possible that——?

LUNDESTAD.

If young Mr. Bratsberg slips off the string, those nearest him are only too likely to follow.

STENSGÅRD.

[_Seizes his arm._] What do you mean by those nearest him?

LUNDESTAD.

Who can be nearer than father and son?

STENSGÅRD.

Why, good God——!

LUNDESTAD.

Remember, I say nothing! It was Daniel Heire that was talking of failure and bankruptcy and——

STENSGÅRD.

This is a thunderbolt to me.

LUNDESTAD.

Oh, many a man that seemed solid enough has gone to the wall before now. Perhaps he’s too good-natured; goes and backs bills; ready money isn’t always to be had; property has to be sold for an old song——

STENSGÅRD.

And of course this falls on—falls on the children as well.

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, I’m heartily grieved for Miss Bratsberg. She didn’t get much from her mother; and heaven knows if even the little she has is secured.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, now I understand Fieldbo’s advice! He’s a true friend, after all.

LUNDESTAD.

What did Doctor Fieldbo say?

STENSGÅRD.

He was too loyal to say anything, but I understand him all the same. And now I understand you too, Mr. Lundestad.

LUNDESTAD.

Have you not understood me before?

STENSGÅRD.

Not thoroughly. I forgot the proverb about the rats and the sinking ship.

LUNDESTAD.

That’s not a very nice way to put it. But what’s the matter with you? You look quite ill. Good God, I haven’t gone and blasted your hopes, have I?

STENSGÅRD.

How do you mean?

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, yes—I see it all. Old fool that I am! My dear Mr. Stensgård, if you really love the girl, what does it matter whether she is rich or poor?

STENSGÅRD.

Matter? No, of course——

LUNDESTAD.

Good Lord, we all know happiness isn’t a matter of money.

STENSGÅRD.

Of course not.

LUNDESTAD.

And with industry and determination you’ll soon be on your feet again. Don’t let poverty frighten you. I know what love is; I went into all that in my young days. A happy home; a faithful woman——! My dear young friend, beware how you take any step that may involve you in life-long self-reproach.

STENSGÅRD.

But what will become of your plans?

LUNDESTAD.

Oh, they must go as best they can. I couldn’t think of demanding the sacrifice of your heart!

STENSGÅRD.

But I will make the sacrifice. Yes, I will show you that I have the strength for it. Think of the longing multitude out there: they claim me with a sort of voiceless pathos. I cannot, I dare not, fail them!

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, but the stake in the district——?

STENSGÅRD.

I shall take measures to fulfil the demands of my fellow citizens in that respect, Mr. Lundestad. I see a way, a new way; and I will follow it up. I renounce the happiness of toiling in obscurity for the woman I love. I say to my fellow countrymen: “Here I am—take me!”

LUNDESTAD.

[_Looks at him in quiet admiration and presses his hand._] You are indeed a man of rare gifts, Mr. Stensgård.

[_Goes out to the right._

[STENSGÅRD _paces the room several times, now stopping for a
moment at the window, now running his fingers through his
hair. Presently_ BASTIAN MONSEN _enters from the back._

BASTIAN.

Here I am, my dear friend.[20]

STENSGÅRD.

Where have you come from?

BASTIAN.

From the Nation.

STENSGÅRD.

The Nation? What does that mean?

BASTIAN.

Don’t you know what the Nation means? It means the People; the common people; those who have nothing, and are nothing; those who lie chained——

STENSGÅRD.

What monkey-tricks are these, I should like to know?

BASTIAN.

Monkey-tricks?

STENSGÅRD.

I have noticed lately that you go about mimicking me; you imitate even my clothes and my handwriting. Be kind enough to stop that.

BASTIAN.

What do you mean? Don’t we belong to the same party?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, but I won’t put up with this—you make yourself ridiculous——

BASTIAN.

By being like you?

STENSGÅRD.

By aping me. Be sensible now, Monsen, and give it up. It’s quite disgusting. But look here—can you tell me when your father is coming back?

BASTIAN.

I have no idea. I believe he’s gone to Christiania; he may not be back for a week or so.

STENSGÅRD.

Indeed? I’m sorry for that. He has a big stroke of business on hand, I hear.

BASTIAN.

I have a big stroke of business on hand too. Look here, Stensgård, you must do me a service.

STENSGÅRD.

Willingly. What is it?

BASTIAN.

I feel so full of energy. I have to thank you for that; you have stimulated me. I feel I must do something, Stensgård:—I want to get married.

STENSGÅRD.

To get married? To whom?

BASTIAN.

Sh! Some one in this house.

STENSGÅRD.

Madam Rundholmen?

BASTIAN.

Sh! Yes, it’s her. Put in a good word for me, do! This sort of thing is just the thing for me. She’s in the swim, you know; she’s on the best of terms with the Chamberlain’s people, ever since her sister was housekeeper there. If I get her, perhaps I shall get the town-contracts too. So that on the whole—damn it, I love her!

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, love, love! Have done with that sickening hypocrisy.

BASTIAN.

Hypocrisy!

STENSGÅRD.

Yes; you are lying to yourself, at any rate. You talk in one breath of town-contracts and of love. Why not call a spade a spade? There’s something sordid about all this; I will have nothing to do with it.

BASTIAN.

But listen——!

STENSGÅRD.

Do your dirty work yourself, I say! [_To_ FIELDBO, _who enters from the right._] Well, how goes the election?

FIELDBO.

Excellently for you, it appears. I saw Lundestad just now; he said you were getting all the votes.

STENSGÅRD.

Am I indeed?

FIELDBO.

But what good will they do you? Since you’re not a man of property——

STENSGÅRD.

[_Between his teeth._] Isn’t it confounded!

FIELDBO.

Well, you can’t do two things at once. If you win on the one side, you must be content to lose on the other. Good-bye!

[_Goes out by the back._

BASTIAN.

What did he mean by winning and losing?

STENSGÅRD.

I’ll tell you afterwards. But now, my dear Monsen—to return to what we were talking about—I promised to put in a good word for you——

BASTIAN.

You promised? On the contrary, I thought you said——?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, nonsense; you didn’t let me explain myself fully. What I meant was that there is something sordid in mixing up your love with town-contracts and so forth; it is an offence against all that is noblest in your nature. So, my dear friend, if you really love the girl——

BASTIAN.

The widow——

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, yes; it’s all the same. I mean when one really loves a woman, that in itself should be a conclusive reason——

BASTIAN.

Yes, that’s just what I think. So you’ll speak for me, will you?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, with great pleasure—but on one condition.

BASTIAN.

What’s that?

STENSGÅRD.

Tit for tat, my dear Bastian—you must put in a word for me too.

BASTIAN.

I? With whom?

STENSGÅRD.

Have you really not noticed anything? Yet it’s before your very nose.

BASTIAN.

You surely don’t mean——?

STENSGÅRD.

Your sister Ragna? Yes, it is she. Oh, you don’t know how I have been moved by the sight of her quiet, self-sacrificing devotion to her home——

BASTIAN.

Do you really mean to say so?

STENSGÅRD.

And you, with your penetrating eye, have suspected nothing?

BASTIAN.

Yes, at one time I did think——; but now people are talking of your hanging about the Chamberlain’s——

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, the Chamberlain’s! Well, Monsen, I’ll tell you frankly that for a moment I did hesitate; but, thank goodness, that is over; now I see my way quite clear before me.

BASTIAN.

There’s my hand. I’ll back you up, you may be sure. And as for Ragna—why, she daren’t do anything but what I and father wish.

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, but your father—that’s just what I wanted to say——

BASTIAN.

Sh! There—I hear Madam Rundholmen. Now’s your chance to speak for me, if she’s not too busy; for then she’s apt to be snappish. You do your best, my dear fellow, and leave the rest to me. Do you happen to have seen Aslaksen?

STENSGÅRD.

He’s probably at the polling-booth.

[BASTIAN _goes out by the back, as_ MADAM RUNDHOLMEN _enters
from the right._

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Things are going as smooth as possible, Mr. Stensgård; every one is voting for you.

STENSGÅRD.

That’s very odd.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Goodness knows what Monsen of Stonelee will say.

STENSGÅRD.

I want a word with you, Madam Rundholmen.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Well, what is it?

STENSGÅRD.

Will you listen to me?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Lord yes, that I will.

STENSGÅRD.

Well then: you were talking just now about being alone in the world——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, it was that horrid old Heire——

STENSGÅRD.

You were saying how hard it is for an unprotected widow——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Yes, indeed; you should just try it, Mr. Stensgård!

STENSGÅRD.

But now if there came a fine young man——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

A fine young man?

STENSGÅRD.

One who had long loved you in secret——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, come now, Mr. Stensgård, I won’t hear any more of your nonsense.

STENSGÅRD.

You must! A young man who, like yourself, finds it hard to be alone in the world——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Well, what then? I don’t understand you at all.

STENSGÅRD.

If you could make two people happy, Madam Rundholmen—yourself and——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

And a fine young man?

STENSGÅRD.

Just so; now, answer me——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Mr. Stensgård, you can’t be in earnest?

STENSGÅRD.

You don’t suppose I would jest on such a subject? Should you be disposed——?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Yes, that I am, the Lord knows! Oh, you dear, sweet——

STENSGÅRD.

[_Recoiling a step._] What is this?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Bother, here comes some one!

RAGNA MONSEN _enters hastily, and in evident disquietude,
from the back._

RAGNA.

I beg your pardon—isn’t my father here?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Your father? Yes; no;—I—I don’t know—excuse me——

RAGNA.

Where is he?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Your father? Oh, he drove past here——

STENSGÅRD.

Towards Christiania.

RAGNA.

No; it’s impossible——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Yes, I know for certain he drove down the road. Oh, my dear Miss Monsen, you can’t think how happy I am! Wait a moment—I’ll just run to the cellar, and fetch up a bottle of the real thing.

[_Goes out to the left._

STENSGÅRD.

Tell me, Miss Monsen—is it really your father you are looking for?

RAGNA.

Yes, of course it is.

STENSGÅRD.

And you didn’t know that he had gone away?

RAGNA.

Oh, how should I know? They tell me nothing. But to Christiania——? That’s impossible; they would have met him. Good-bye!

STENSGÅRD.

[_Intercepts her._] Ragna! Tell me! Why are you so changed towards me?

RAGNA.

I? Let me pass! Let me go!

STENSGÅRD.

No, you shall not go! I believe Providence guided you here at this moment. Oh, why do you shrink from me? You used not to.

RAGNA.

Ah, that is all over, thank God!

STENSGÅRD.

But why?

RAGNA.

I have learnt to know you better; it is well that I learned in time.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, that is it? People have been lying about me? Perhaps I am to blame too; I have been lost in a maze of perplexities. But that is past now. Oh, the very sight of you makes a better man of me. It is you I care for, deeply and truly; it is you I love, Ragna—you and no other!

RAGNA.

Let me pass! I am afraid of you——

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, but to-morrow, Ragna—may I come and speak to you to-morrow?

RAGNA.

Yes, yes, if you must; only for heaven’s sake not to-day.

STENSGÅRD.

Only not to-day! Hurrah! I have won; now I am happy!

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_Enters from the left with cake and wine._] Come now, we must drink a glass for luck.

STENSGÅRD.

For luck in love! Here’s to love and happiness! Hurrah for to-morrow!

[_He drinks._

HELLE.

[_Entering from the right, to_ RAGNA.] Have you found him?

RAGNA.

No, he is not here. Come, come!

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Heaven help us, what’s the matter?

HELLE.

Nothing; only some visitors have arrived at Stonelee——

RAGNA.

Thanks for all your kindness, Madam Rundholmen——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, have you got visitors on your hands again?

RAGNA.

Yes, yes; excuse me; I must go home. Good-bye!

STENSGÅRD.

Good-bye—till to-morrow!

[RAGNA _and_ HELLE _go out by the back._

DANIEL HEIRE _enters from the right._

HEIRE.

Ha-ha! It’s going like a house on fire! They’re all cackling Stensgård, Stensgård, Stensgård! They’re all plumping for you. Now you should plump for him too, Madam Rundholmen!

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Hey, that’s an idea! Are they all voting for him?

HEIRE.

Unanimously—Mr. Stensgård enjoys the confidence of the constituency, as the saying is. Old Lundestad is going about with a face like a pickled cucumber. Oh, it’s a pleasure to see it all.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

They shan’t regret having voted for him. If I can’t vote, I can stand treat.

[_Goes out to the left._

HEIRE.

Ah, you are the man for the widows, Mr. Stensgård! I’ll tell you what—if you can only get hold of her, you’re a made man, sir!

STENSGÅRD.

Get hold of Madam Rundholmen?

HEIRE.

Yes, why not? She’s a substantial woman in every sense of the word. She’ll be mistress of the situation as soon as the Stonelee card-castle has come to grief.

STENSGÅRD.

There’s nothing wrong at Stonelee, is there?

HEIRE.

Isn’t there? You have a short memory, my dear sir. Didn’t I tell you there were rumours of failure, and bankruptcy, and——?

STENSGÅRD.

Well, what then?

HEIRE.

What then? That’s just what we want to know. There’s a hue and cry after Monsen; two men have come to Stonelee——

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, I know—a couple of visitors——

HEIRE.

Uninvited visitors, my dear young friend; there are whispers of the police and infuriated creditors—there’s something queer about the accounts, you must know! Talking of that—what paper was that Monsen gave you yesterday?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, just a paper——Something queer about the accounts, you say? Look here! you know Chamberlain Bratsberg’s signature?

HEIRE.

Hee-hee! I should rather think I did.

STENSGÅRD.

[_Produces the bill._] Well, look at this.

HEIRE.

Give it here—I’m rather short-sighted, you know. [_After examining it._] That, my dear sir? That’s not the Chamberlain’s hand.

STENSGÅRD.

Not? Then it is——?

HEIRE.

And it’s drawn by Monsen?

STENSGÅRD.

No, by young Mr. Bratsberg.

HEIRE.

Nonsense! Let me see. [_Looks at the paper and hands it back again._] You can light your cigar with this.

STENSGÅRD.

What! The drawer’s name too——?

HEIRE.

A forgery, young man; a forgery, as sure as my name’s Daniel. You have only to look at it with the keen eye of suspicion——

STENSGÅRD.

But how can that be? Monsen can’t have known——

HEIRE.

Monsen? No, he knows nothing about either his own paper or other people’s. But I’m glad it has come to an end, Mr. Stensgård!—It’s a satisfaction to one’s moral sense. Ah, I have often glowed with a noble indignation, if I may say so, at having to stand by and see——I say no more! But the best of it all is that now Monsen is down he’ll drag young Bratsberg after him; and the son will bring the father down——

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, so Lundestad said.

HEIRE.

But of course there’s method even in bankruptcy. You’ll see; I am an old hand at prophecy. Monsen will go to prison; young Bratsberg will compound with his creditors; and the Chamberlain will be placed under trustees; that’s to say, his creditors will present him with an annuity of a couple of thousand dollars. That’s how things go, Mr. Stensgård; I know it, I know it! What says the classic? _Fiat justitia, pereat mundus_; which means: Fie on what’s called justice in this wicked world, sir!

STENSGÅRD.

[_Pacing the room._] One after the other! Both ways barred!

HEIRE.

What the deuce——?

STENSGÅRD.

And now too! Just at this moment!

ASLAKSEN.

[_Enters from the right._] I congratulate you, chosen of the people!

STENSGÅRD.

Elected!

ASLAKSEN.

Elected by 117 votes, and Lundestad by 53. The rest all nowhere.

HEIRE.

Your first step on the path of glory, Mr. Stensgård.

ASLAKSEN.

And it shall cost you a bowl of punch——

HEIRE.

Well, it’s the first step that costs, they say.

ASLAKSEN.

[_Goes off to the left, shouting._] Punch, Madam Rundholmen! A bowl of punch! The chosen of the people stands treat!

LUNDESTAD, _and after him several_ ELECTORS, _enter from the right._

HEIRE.

[_In a tone of condolence to_ LUNDESTAD.] Fifty-three! That’s the grey-haired patriot’s reward!

LUNDESTAD.

[_Whispers to_ STENSGÅRD.] Are you firm in your resolve?

STENSGÅRD.

What’s the use of being firm when everything is tumbling about your ears?

LUNDESTAD.

Do you think the game is lost?

ASLAKSEN.

[_Returning by the left._] Madam Rundholmen stands treat herself. She says she has the best right to.

STENSGÅRD.

[_Struck by an idea._] Madam Rundholmen—has the best right to——!

LUNDESTAD.

What?

STENSGÅRD.

The game is not lost, Mr. Lundestad!

[_Sits at the right-hand table and writes._

LUNDESTAD.

[_In a low voice._] Oh, Aslaksen—can you get something into your next paper for me?

ASLAKSEN.

Of course I can. Is it libellous?

LUNDESTAD.

No, certainly not!

ASLAKSEN.

Well, never mind; I’ll take it all the same.

LUNDESTAD.

It is my political last will and testament; I shall write it to-night.

A MAID-SERVANT.

[_Enters from the left._] The punch, with Madam Rundholmen’s compliments.

ASLAKSEN.

Hurrah! Now there’s some life in the local situation.

[_He places the punch-bowl on the middle table, serves the
others, and drinks freely himself during the following
scene._ BASTIAN MONSEN _has meanwhile entered from the
right._

BASTIAN.

[_Softly._] You won’t forget my letter?

ASLAKSEN.

Don’t be afraid. [_Taps his breast pocket._] I have it here.

BASTIAN.

You’ll deliver it as soon as you can—when you see she’s disengaged, you understand.

ASLAKSEN.

I understand. [_Calls._] Come, now, the glasses are filled.

BASTIAN.

You shan’t do it for nothing, I promise you.

ASLAKSEN.

All right, all right. [_To the servant._] A lemon, Karen—quick as the wind!

[BASTIAN _retires._

STENSGÅRD.

A word, Aslaksen; shall you be passing here to-morrow evening?

ASLAKSEN.

To-morrow evening? I can, if you like.

STENSGÅRD.

Then you might look in and give Madam Rundholmen this letter.

ASLAKSEN.

From you?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes. Put it in your pocket. There now. To-morrow evening, then?

ASLAKSEN.

All right; trust to me.

[_The servant brings the lemon;_ STENSGÅRD _goes towards the
window._

BASTIAN.

Well—have you spoken to Madam Rundholmen?

STENSGÅRD.

Spoken? Oh yes, I said a word or two——

BASTIAN.

And what do you think?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh—well—we were interrupted. I can’t say anything definite.

BASTIAN.

I’ll take my chance all the same; she’s always complaining of her loneliness. My fate shall be sealed within an hour.

STENSGÅRD.

Within an hour?

BASTIAN.

[_Sees_ MADAM RUNDHOLMEN, _who enters from the left._] Sh! Not a word to any one!

[_Goes towards the back._

STENSGÅRD.

[_Whispers to_ ASLAKSEN.] Give me back the letter.

ASLAKSEN.

Do you want it back?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, at once; I shall deliver it myself.

ASLAKSEN.

Very well; here it is.

[STENSGÅRD _thrusts the letter into his pocket, and mixes with
the rest._

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_To_ BASTIAN.] What do you say to the election, Mr. Bastian?

BASTIAN.

I’m delighted. Stensgård and I are bosom friends, you know. I shouldn’t be surprised if he got into Parliament.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

But your father wouldn’t much like that.

BASTIAN.

Oh, father has so many irons in the fire. Besides, if Stensgård’s elected, it will still be all in the family, I daresay.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

How so?

BASTIAN.

He wants to marry——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Lord! Has he said anything?

BASTIAN.

Yes; and I’ve promised to put in a word for him. It’ll be all right. I’m sure Ragna likes him.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Ragna!

LUNDESTAD.

[_Approaching._] What is interesting you so deeply, Madam Rundholmen?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

What do you think he says? Why, that Mr. Stensgård’s making up to——

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, but he won’t find the Chamberlain so easy to deal with.

BASTIAN.

The Chamberlain?

LUNDESTAD.

He probably thinks her too good a match for a mere lawyer——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Who? Who?

LUNDESTAD.

Why, his daughter, Miss Bratsberg, of course.

BASTIAN.

He’s surely not making love to Miss Bratsberg?

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, indeed he is.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

You are quite sure of that?

BASTIAN.

And he told me——! Oh, I want to say a word to you!

[LUNDESTAD _and_ BASTIAN _go towards the back._

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_Approaching_ STENSGÅRD.] You must be on your guard, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

Against whom?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Against malicious people who are slandering you.

STENSGÅRD.

Why, let them—so long as _one_ person doesn’t believe their slanders.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

And who may that one person be?

STENSGÅRD.

[_Slips the letter into her hand._] Take this; read it when you are alone.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Ah, I knew it!

[_Goes off to the left._

RINGDAL.

[_Enters from the right._] Well, I hear you have won a brilliant victory, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, I have, Mr. Ringdal, in spite of your noble chief’s endeavours.

RINGDAL.

His endeavours? What to do?

STENSGÅRD.

To keep me out.

RINGDAL.

Like other people, he has a right to vote as he pleases.

STENSGÅRD.

It’s a pity he is not likely to retain that right for long.

RINGDAL.

What do you mean?

STENSGÅRD.

I mean, since his affairs are not so straight as they might be——

RINGDAL.

His affairs! What affairs? What have you got into your head?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, you needn’t pretend ignorance. Isn’t there a storm brewing?—a great crash impending?

RINGDAL.

Yes, so I hear on all sides.

STENSGÅRD.

And aren’t both the Bratsbergs involved in it?

RINGDAL.

My dear sir, are you crazy?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, you naturally want to keep it dark.

RINGDAL.

What good would that be? That sort of thing can’t be kept dark.

STENSGÅRD.

Is it not true then?

RINGDAL.

Not a word of it, so far as the Chamberlain is concerned. How could you believe such nonsense? Who has been humbugging you?

STENSGÅRD.

I won’t tell you just yet.

RINGDAL.

Well, you needn’t; but whoever it was must have had a motive.

STENSGÅRD.

A motive—-!

RINGDAL.

Yes, just think: is there no one who has an interest in keeping you and the Chamberlain apart?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, on my soul, but there is though!

RINGDAL.

The Chamberlain in reality thinks very highly of you——

STENSGÅRD.

Does he?

RINGDAL.

Yes, and that’s why people want to make mischief between you. They reckon on your ignorance of the situation, on your impulsiveness and your confiding disposition——

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, the vipers! And Madam Rundholmen has my letter!

RINGDAL.

What letter?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, nothing. But it’s not too late! My dear Mr. Ringdal, shall you see the Chamberlain this evening?

RINGDAL.

In all probability.

STENSGÅRD.

Then tell him to think no more of those threats—he will understand; tell him I shall call to-morrow and explain everything.

RINGDAL.

You’ll call?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, to prove to him——Ah! a proof! Look here, Mr. Ringdal; will you give the Chamberlain this bill from me?

RINGDAL.

This bill——?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes; it’s a matter I can’t explain to you; but just you give it to him——

RINGDAL.

Upon my word, Mr. Stensgård——

STENSGÅRD.

And just add these words from me: This is how I treat those who vote against me!

RINGDAL.

I shan’t forget.

[_Goes out at the back._

STENSGÅRD.

I say, Mr. Heire—how could you go and palm off that story about the Chamberlain upon me?

HEIRE.

How could I palm it off on you——?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes—it’s a lie from beginning to end.

HEIRE.

No! Is it indeed? I’m delighted to hear it. Do you hear, Mr. Lundestad? It’s all a lie about the Chamberlain.

LUNDESTAD.

Sh! We were on a false scent; it’s nearer at hand.

STENSGÅRD.

How nearer at hand?

LUNDESTAD.

I know nothing for certain; but they talk of Madam Rundholmen——

STENSGÅRD.

What!

HEIRE.

Haven’t I prophesied it! She has been too much mixed up with our friend at Stonelee——

LUNDESTAD.

He drove off this morning before daylight——

HEIRE.

And his family is out hunting for him——

LUNDESTAD.

And the son has been doing all he knows to get his sister provided for——

STENSGÅRD.

Provided for! “To-morrow” she said; and then her anxiety about her father——!

HEIRE.

Hee-hee! You’ll see he’s gone and hanged himself, sir!

ASLAKSEN.

Has any one hanged himself?

LUNDESTAD.

Mr. Heire says Monsen of Stonelee——

MONSEN.

[_Enters from the back._] A dozen of champagne!

ASLAKSEN AND OTHERS.

Monsen!

MONSEN.

Yes, Monsen! Champagne-Monsen! Money-Monsen! Let’s have the wine, confound it all!

HEIRE.

But, my dear sir——

STENSGÅRD.

Why, where have you dropped from?

MONSEN.

I’ve been doing a stroke of business, sir! Cleared a hundred thousand! Hei! To-morrow I’ll give a thundering dinner at Stonelee. I invite you all. Champagne, I say! I congratulate you, Stensgård! I hear you’re elected.

STENSGÅRD.

Yes; I must explain to you——

MONSEN.

Pooh; what does it matter to me? Wine, I say! Where is Madam Rundholmen?

[_Makes a motion to go out to the left._

THE MAID-SERVANT.

[_Who has just entered, intercepts him._] No one can see the mistress just now; she’s got a letter——

BASTIAN.

Oh, damn it all!

[_Goes out by the back._

STENSGÅRD.

Is she reading it?

SERVANT.

Yes; and it seems quite to have upset her.

STENSGÅRD.

Good-bye, Mr. Monsen; dinner at Stonelee to-morrow——?

MONSEN.

Yes, to-morrow. Good-bye!

STENSGÅRD.

[_Whispers._] Mr. Heire, will you do me a service?

HEIRE.

Certainly, certainly.

STENSGÅRD.

Then just run me down a little to Madam Rundholmen; indulge in an innuendo or two at my expense. You are so good at that sort of thing.

HEIRE.

What the deuce is the meaning of this?

STENSGÅRD.

I have my reasons. It’s a joke, you know—a wager with—with some one you have a grudge against.

HEIRE.

Aha, I understand. I say no more!

STENSGÅRD.

Don’t go too far, you know. Just place me in a more or less equivocal light—make her a little suspicious of me, for the moment.

HEIRE.

Rely upon me; it will be a real pleasure to me.

STENSGÅRD.

Thanks, thanks in advance. [_Goes towards the table._] Mr. Lundestad, we shall meet to-morrow forenoon at the Chamberlain’s.

LUNDESTAD.

Have you hopes?

STENSGÅRD.

A threefold hope.

LUNDESTAD.

Threefold? I don’t understand——

STENSGÅRD.

You needn’t. Henceforth I will be my own counsellor.

[_Goes out by the back._

MONSEN.

[_At the punch-bowl._] Another glass, Aslaksen! Where’s Bastian?

ASLAKSEN.

He’s just gone out. But I have a letter to deliver for him.

MONSEN.

Have you?

ASLAKSEN.

To Madam Rundholmen.

MONSEN.

Ah, at last!

ASLAKSEN.

But not till to-morrow evening, he said; to-morrow evening, neither sooner nor later. Here’s to you!

HEIRE.

[_To_ LUNDESTAD.] What the deuce is all this business between Stensgård and Madam Rundholmen?

LUNDESTAD.

[_Whispers._] He’s courting her.

HEIRE.

I suspected as much! But he asked me to run him down a bit—to cast a slur on his character——

LUNDESTAD.

And you said you would?

HEIRE.

Yes; of course.

LUNDESTAD.

I believe he says of you that your word is as good as your bond—and no better.

HEIRE.

Hee-hee—the dear fellow! He shall find out his mistake this time.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_With an open letter in her hand, at the door on the left._] Where is Mr. Stensgård?

HEIRE.

He kissed your chambermaid and went, Madam Rundholmen!

-----

Footnote 18:

The dollar = four crowns = four-and-sixpence, was the unit of coinage
at the time this play was written. It has since been replaced by the
crown.

Footnote 19:

“Amtmanden og provsten.” The “Amtmand” is the chief magistrate of an
“Amt” or county; the “Provst” is an ecclesiastical functionary,
perhaps equivalent to a rural dean.

Footnote 20:

Bastian now says “thou” (du) to Stensgård—_il le tutoie_.

ACT FIFTH.

_Large reception-room at the_ CHAMBERLAIN’S. _Entrance door at the back.
Doors right and left._

RINGDAL _stands at a table looking through some papers. A knock._

RINGDAL.

Come in.

FIELDBO.

[_From the back._] Good-morning.

RINGDAL.

Good-morning, Doctor.

FIELDBO.

All well, eh?

RINGDAL.

Oh, yes, well enough; but——

FIELDBO.

What?

RINGDAL.

Of course you’ve heard the great news?

FIELDBO.

No. What is it?

RINGDAL.

Do you mean to say you haven’t heard what has happened at Stonelee?

FIELDBO.

No.

RINGDAL.

Monsen has absconded.

FIELDBO.

Absconded! Monsen?

RINGDAL.

Absconded.

FIELDBO.

Great heavens—-!

RINGDAL.

There were ugly rumours yesterday; but then Monsen turned up again; he managed to throw dust in people’s eyes——

FIELDBO.

But the reason? The reason?

RINGDAL.

Enormous losses in timber, they say. Several houses in Christiania have stopped payment, and so——

FIELDBO.

And so he has gone off!

RINGDAL.

To Sweden, probably. The authorities took possession at Stonelee this morning. Things are being inventoried and sealed up——

FIELDBO.

And the unfortunate children——?

RINGDAL.

The son seems to have kept clear of the business; at least I hear he puts a bold face on it.

FIELDBO.

But the daughter?

RINGDAL.

Sh! The daughter is here.

FIELDBO.

Here?

RINGDAL.

The tutor brought her and the two little ones here this morning. Miss Bratsberg is looking after them, quietly you know.

FIELDBO.

And how does she bear it?

RINGDAL.

Oh, pretty well, I fancy. You may guess, after the treatment she has met with at home——And, besides, I may tell you she is——Ah, here’s the Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_From the left._] So you are there, my dear Doctor?

FIELDBO.

Yes, I am pretty early astir. Let me wish you many happy returns of the day, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, as for happiness——! But thank you, all the same; I know you mean it kindly.

FIELDBO.

And may I ask, Chamberlain——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

One word: be good enough to drop that title.

FIELDBO.

What do you mean?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I am an ironmaster, and nothing more.

FIELDBO.

Why, what strange notion is this?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I have renounced my post and my title. I am sending in my resignation to-day.

FIELDBO.

You should sleep upon that.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

When his Majesty was graciously pleased to assign me a place in his immediate circle, he did so because of the unblemished honour of my family through long generations.

FIELDBO.

Well, what then?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

My family is disgraced, just as much as Mr. Monsen’s. Of course you have heard about Monsen?

FIELDBO.

Yes, I have.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_To_ RINGDAL.] Any further news about him?

RINGDAL.

Only that he brings down with him a good many of the younger men.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And my son?

RINGDAL.

Your son has sent me his balance-sheet. He will be able to pay in full; but there will be nothing over.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

H’m. Then will you get my resignation copied?

RINGDAL.

I’ll see to it.

[_Goes out by the foremost door on the right._

FIELDBO.

Have you reflected what you are doing? Things can be arranged without any one being a bit the wiser.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Indeed! Can I make myself ignorant of what has happened?

FIELDBO.

Oh, after all, what has happened? Has not he written to you, acknowledged his fault, and begged for your forgiveness? This is the only time he has done anything of the sort; why not simply blot it out?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Would you do what my son has done?

FIELDBO.

He won’t repeat it; that is the main point.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

How do you know he will not repeat it?

FIELDBO.

If for no other reason, because of what you yourself told me—the scene with your daughter-in-law. Whatever else comes of it, that will steady him.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Pacing the room._] My poor Selma! Our peace and happiness gone!

FIELDBO.

There are higher things than peace and happiness. Your happiness has been an illusion. Yes, I must speak frankly to you: in that, as in many other things, you have built on a hollow foundation. You have been shortsighted and overweening, Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Stops short._] I?

FIELDBO.

Yes, you! You have plumed yourself on your family honour; but when has that honour been tried? Are you sure it would have stood the test?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You can spare your sermons, Doctor. Do you think I have not learnt a lesson from the events of these days?

FIELDBO.

I daresay you have; but prove it, by showing greater tolerance and clearer insight. You reproach your son; but what have you done for him? You have taken care to develop his faculties, but not to form his character. You have lectured him on what he owed to the honour of his family; but you have not guided and moulded him so that honour became to him an irresistible instinct.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Do you think so?

FIELDBO.

I not only think, I know it. But that is generally the way here: people are bent on learning, not on living. And you see what comes of it; you see hundreds of men with great gifts, who never seem to be more than half ripe; who are one thing in their ideas and feelings, and something quite different in their habits and acts. Just look at Stensgård——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ah, Stensgård now! What do you make of Stensgård?

FIELDBO.

A patchwork. I have known him from childhood. His father was a mere rag of a man, a withered weed, a nobody. He kept a little huckster’s shop, and eked things out with pawn-broking; or rather his wife did for him. She was a coarse-grained woman, the most unwomanly I ever knew. She had her husband declared incapable;[21] she had not an ounce of heart in her. And in that home Stensgård passed his childhood. Then he went to the grammar-school. “He shall go to college,” said his mother; “I’ll make a smart solicitor of him.” Squalor at home, high-pressure at school; soul, temperament, will, talents, all pulling in different ways—what could it lead to but disintegration of character?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What could it lead to, eh? I should like to know what is good enough for you. We are to expect nothing of Stensgård; nothing of my son; but we may look to you, I suppose—to you——?

FIELDBO.

Yes, to me—precisely. Oh, you needn’t laugh; I take no credit to myself; but my lot has been one that begets equilibrium and firmness of character. I was brought up amid the peace and harmony of a modest middle-class home. My mother is a woman of the finest type; in our home we had no desires that outstripped our opportunities, no cravings that were wrecked on the rocks of circumstance; and death did not break in upon our circle, leaving emptiness and longing behind it. We were brought up in the love of beauty, but it informed our whole view of life, instead of being a side-interest, a thing apart. We were taught to shun excesses, whether of the intellect or of the feelings——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Bless me! So that accounts for your being the pink of perfection?

FIELDBO.

I am far from thinking so. I only say that fate had been infinitely kind to me, and that I regard its favours in the light of obligations.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Very well; but if Stensgård is under no such obligations, it is all the more to his credit that he——

FIELDBO.

What? What is to his credit?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You have misjudged him, my good Doctor. Look here. What do you say to this?

FIELDBO.

Your son’s bill!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes; he has sent it to me.

FIELDBO.

Of his own accord?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Of his own accord, and unconditionally. It is fine; it is noble. From this day forth, my house is open to him.

FIELDBO.

Think again! For your own sake, for your daughter’s——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, let me alone! He is better than you in many ways. At any rate he is straightforward, while you are underhand in your dealings.

FIELDBO.

I?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, you! You have made yourself the master of this house; you come and go as you please; I consult you about everything—and yet——

FIELDBO.

Well?—And yet?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And yet there’s always something confoundedly close about you; yes, and something—something uppish that I cannot endure!

FIELDBO.

Please explain yourself!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I? No, it is you that ought to explain yourself! But now you must take the consequences.

FIELDBO.

We don’t understand each other, Chamberlain. I have no bill to give up to you; yet, who knows but I may be making a greater sacrifice for your sake?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Indeed! How so?

FIELDBO.

By holding my tongue.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Holding your tongue, indeed! Shall I tell you what I am tempted to do? To forget my manners, use bad language, and join the League of Youth. You are a stiff-necked Pharisee, my good Doctor; and that sort of thing is out of place in our free society. Look at Stensgård; he is not like that; so he shall come here whenever he likes; he shall—he shall——! Oh, what’s the use of talking——! You must take the consequences; as you make your bed, so you must lie.

LUNDESTAD.

[_Enters from the back._] My congratulations, Chamberlain! May you long enjoy the respect and——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, go to the devil—I’m almost inclined to say! That’s all humbug, my dear Lundestad. There’s nothing but humbug in this world.

LUNDESTAD.

That is what Mr. Monsen’s creditors are saying.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ah, about Monsen—didn’t it come upon you like a thunderbolt?

LUNDESTAD.

Oh, you have often prophesied it, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

H’m, h’m;—yes, to be sure I have. I prophesied it only the day before yesterday; he came here trying to get money out of me——

FIELDBO.

It might have saved him.

LUNDESTAD.

Impossible; he was too deep in the mire; and whatever is, is for the best.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

That is your opinion? Was it for the best, then, that you were beaten at the poll yesterday?

LUNDESTAD.

I wasn’t beaten; everything went just as I wanted. Stensgård is not a man to make an enemy of; he has got what we others have to whistle for.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I don’t quite understand what you mean——?

LUNDESTAD.

He has the power of carrying people away with him. And then he has the luck to be unhampered by either character, or conviction, or social position; so that Liberalism is the easiest thing in the world to him.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well, really, I should have thought we were all Liberals.

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, of course we are Liberals, Chamberlain; not a doubt of it. But the thing is that we are Liberal only on our own behalf, whereas Stensgård’s Liberalism extends to other people. That’s the novelty of the thing.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And you are going over to these subversive ideas?

LUNDESTAD.

I’ve read in old story-books about people who could summon up spirits, but could not lay them again.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Why, my dear Lundestad, how can a man of your enlightenment——?

LUNDESTAD.

I know it’s mere popish superstition, Chamberlain. But new ideas are like those spirits: it’s not so easy to lay them; the best plan is to compromise with them as best you can.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

But now that Monsen has fallen, and no doubt his crew of agitators with him——

LUNDESTAD.

If Monsen’s fall had come two or three days ago, things would have been very different.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, unfortunately. You have been too hasty.

LUNDESTAD.

Partly out of consideration for you, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

For me?

LUNDESTAD.

Our party must keep up its reputation in the eyes of the people. We represent the old, deep-rooted Norse sense of honour. If I had deserted Stensgård, you know he holds a paper——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Not now.

LUNDESTAD.

What?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Here it is.

LUNDESTAD.

He has given it up to you?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes. Personally, he is a gentleman; so much I must say for him.

LUNDESTAD.

[_Thoughtfully._] Mr. Stensgård has rare abilities.

STENSGÅRD.

[_At the back, standing in the doorway._] May I come in?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Going to meet him._] I am delighted to see you.

STENSGÅRD.

And you will accept my congratulations?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

With all my heart.

STENSGÅRD.

Then with all my heart I wish you happiness; And you must forget all the stupid things I have written.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I go by deeds, not words, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

How good of you to say so!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And henceforth—since you wish it—you must consider yourself at home here.

STENSGÅRD.

May I? May I really? [_A knock at the door._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Come in.

_Several_ LEADING MEN _of the neighbourhood,_ TOWN COUNCILLORS, _etc.,
enter._ THE CHAMBERLAIN _goes to receive them, accepts their
congratulations, and converses with them._

THORA.

[_Who has meantime entered by the second door on the left._] Mr. Stensgård, let me thank you.

STENSGÅRD.

You, Miss Bratsberg!

THORA.

My father has told me how nobly you have acted.

STENSGÅRD.

But——?

THORA.

Oh, how we have misjudged you!

STENSGÅRD.

Have you——?

THORA.

It was your own fault—— No, no; it was ours. Oh, what would I not do to atone for our error.

STENSGÅRD.

Would you? You yourself? Would you really——?

THORA.

All of us would; if we only knew——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Refreshments for these gentlemen, my child.

THORA.

They are just coming.

[_She retires towards the door again, where a_ SERVANT _at the
same moment appears with cake and wine, which are handed
round._

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, my dear Lundestad! I feel like a conquering god.

LUNDESTAD.

So you must have felt yesterday, I suppose.

STENSGÅRD.

Pooh! This is something quite different; the final triumph; the crown of all! There is a glory, a halo, over my life.

LUNDESTAD.

Oho; dreams of love!

STENSGÅRD.

Not dreams! Realities, glorious realities!

LUNDESTAD.

So brother Bastian has brought you the answer?

STENSGÅRD.

Bastian——?

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, he gave me a hint yesterday; he had promised to plead your cause with a certain young lady.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, what nonsense——

LUNDESTAD.

Why make a mystery of it? If you haven’t heard already, I can give you the news. You have won the day, Mr. Stensgård; I have it from Ringdal.

STENSGÅRD.

What have you from Ringdal?

LUNDESTAD.

Miss Monsen has accepted you.

STENSGÅRD.

What?

LUNDESTAD.

Accepted you, I say.

STENSGÅRD.

Accepted me! And the father has bolted!

LUNDESTAD.

But the daughter hasn’t.

STENSGÅRD.

Accepted me! In the midst of all this family trouble! How unwomanly! How repellant to any man with the least delicacy of feeling! But the whole thing is a misunderstanding. I never commissioned Bastian—— How could that idiot——? However, it doesn’t matter to me; he must answer for his follies himself.

DANIEL HEIRE.

[_Enters from the back._] Hee-hee! Quite a gathering! Of course, of course! We are paying our respects, propitiating the powers that be, as the saying goes. May I, too——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Thanks, thanks, old friend!

HEIRE.

Oh, I protest, my dear sir? That is too much condescension. [_New_ GUESTS _arrive._] Ah, here we have the myrmidons of justice—the executive—— I say no more. [_Goes over to_ STENSGÅRD.] Ah, my dear fortunate youth, are you there? Your hand! Accept the assurance of an old man’s unfeigned rejoicing.

STENSGÅRD.

At what?

HEIRE.

You asked me yesterday to run you down a little to her—you know——

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, yes; what then?

HEIRE.

It was a heartfelt pleasure to me to oblige you——

STENSGÅRD.

Well—and what happened then? How did she take it?

HEIRE.

Like a loving woman, of course—burst into tears; locked herself into her room; would neither answer nor show herself——

STENSGÅRD.

Ah, thank goodness!

HEIRE.

It’s barbarous to subject a widow’s heart to such cruel tests, to go and gloat over her jealous agonies! But love has cat’s eyes—— I say no more! For to-day, as I drove past, there stood Madam Rundholmen, brisk and buxom, at her open window, combing her hair. She looked like a mermaid, if you’ll allow me to say so. Oh, she’s a fine woman!

STENSGÅRD.

Well, and then?

HEIRE.

Why, she laughed like one possessed, sir, and waved a letter in the air, and called out “A proposal, Mr. Heire! I’m engaged to be married.”

STENSGÅRD.

What! Engaged?

HEIRE.

My hearty congratulations, young man; I’m inexpressibly pleased to be the first to announce to you——

STENSGÅRD.

It’s all rubbish! It’s nonsense!

HEIRE.

What is nonsense?

STENSGÅRD.

You have misunderstood her; or else she has misunderstood——Engaged! Preposterous! Now that Monsen’s down, she’ll probably——

HEIRE.

Not at all, sir, not at all! Madam Rundholmen has solid legs to stand on.

STENSGÅRD.

No matter! I have quite other intentions. All that about the letter was only a joke—a wager, as I told you. My dear Mr. Heire, do oblige me by not saying a word to any one of this silly affair.

HEIRE.

I see, I see! It’s to be kept secret; it’s to be a romance. Ah, youth, youth! it’s nothing if not poetical.

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, yes; mum’s the word. You shan’t regret it—I’ll take up your cases——Sh! I rely upon you.

[_He retires._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Who has meanwhile been talking to_ LUNDESTAD.] No, Lundestad—_that_ I really cannot believe!

LUNDESTAD.

I assure you, Chamberlain—Daniel Heire told me so himself.

HEIRE.

What did I tell you, may I inquire?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Did Mr. Stensgård show you a bill yesterday?

HEIRE.

Yes, by-the-bye——! What on earth was the meaning of all that?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I’ll tell you afterwards. And you told him——

LUNDESTAD.

You persuaded him it was a forgery?

HEIRE.

Pooh, a mere innocent jest, to bewilder him a little in the hour of triumph.

LUNDESTAD.

And you told him both signatures were forged?

HEIRE.

Oh yes; why not both while I was about it?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

So that was it!

LUNDESTAD.

[_To the_ CHAMBERLAIN.] And when he heard _that_——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He gave the bill to Ringdal!

LUNDESTAD.

The bill that was useless as a weapon of offence.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He shams magnanimity! Makes a fool of me a second time! Gains admission to my house, and makes me welcome him and thank him—this—this——! And this is the fellow——

HEIRE.

Why, what are you going on about, my dear sir?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I’ll tell you all about it afterwards. [_Takes LUNDESTAD apart._] And this is the fellow you protect, push forward, help to rise!

LUNDESTAD.

Well, he took you in, too!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, I should like to——!

LUNDESTAD.

[_Pointing to_ STENSGÅRD, _who is speaking to_ THORA.] Look there! What will people be fancying!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I shall soon put a stop to these fancies.

LUNDESTAD.

Too late, Chamberlain; he’ll worm himself forward by dint of promises and general plausibility——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I, too, can manœuvre, Mr. Lundestad.

LUNDESTAD.

What will you do?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Just watch. [_Goes over to_ FIELDBO.] Doctor Fieldbo, will you do me a service?

FIELDBO.

With pleasure.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Then turn that fellow out of my house.

FIELDBO.

Stensgård?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, the adventurer; I hate his very name; turn him out!

FIELDBO.

But how can I——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

That is your affair; I give you a free hand.

FIELDBO.

A free hand! Do you mean it? Entirely free?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, yes, by all means.

FIELDBO.

Your hand on it, Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Here it is.

FIELDBO.

So be it, then; now or never! [_Loudly._] May I request the attention of the company for a moment?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Silence for Doctor Fieldbo!

FIELDBO.

With Chamberlain Bratsberg’s consent, I have the pleasure of announcing my engagement to his daughter.

[_An outburst of astonishment._ THORA _utters a slight scream._
THE CHAMBERLAIN _is on the point of speaking, but refrains.
Loud talk and congratulations._

STENSGÅRD.

Engagement! _Your_ engagement——

HEIRE.

With the Chamberlain’s——? With your——What does it mean?

LUNDESTAD.

Is the Doctor out of his mind?

STENSGÅRD.

But, Chamberlain——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What can I do? I am a Liberal. I join the League of Youth!

FIELDBO.

Thanks, thanks—and forgive me!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Associations are the order of the day, Mr. Stensgård. There is nothing like free competition!

THORA.

Oh, my dear father!

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, and engagements are the order of the day. I have another to announce.

STENSGÅRD.

A mere invention!

LUNDESTAD.

No, not a bit of it; Miss Monsen is engaged to——

STENSGÅRD.

False, false, I say!

THORA.

No, father, it’s true; they are both here.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Who? Where?

THORA.

Ragna and Mr. Helle. They are in here——

[_Goes towards the second door on the right._

LUNDESTAD.

Mr. Helle! Then it’s he——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Here? In my house? [_Goes towards the door._] Come in, my dear child.

RAGNA.

[_Shrinking back shyly._] Oh, no, no; there are so many people.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Don’t be bashful; you couldn’t help what has happened.

HELLE.

She is homeless now, Chamberlain.

RAGNA.

Oh, you must help us!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I will, indeed; and thank you for giving me the opportunity.

HEIRE.

You may well say engagements are the order of the day. I have one to add to the list.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What? You? At your age?—How rash of you!

HEIRE.

Oh—! I say no more.

LUNDESTAD.

The game is up, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

Indeed? [_Loudly._] _I_ have one to add to the list, Mr. Heire! An announcement, gentlemen: I too have cast anchor for life.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What?

STENSGÅRD.