AUGUST STRINDBERG (continued 3)
Edwin Björkman translation
BARON. You might have thought of it before! But when you saw me champing at the chain of love that bound me to you, then you believed me incapable of loving anybody but yourself.
BARONESS. Do you think I ever loved you?
BARON. Yes, once at least. When I had been faithless to you. Then your love grew sublime. And your pretended scorn made you irresistible. But my error caused you to respect me, too. Whether it was the male or the criminal you admired most, I don't know, but I believe it was both—it must have been both, for you are the most typical woman I have ever met. And now you are already jealous of a new wife whom I have never thought of. What a pity that you became my mate! As my mistress, your victory would have been unchallenged, and your infidelities would only have seemed the bouquet of my new wine.
BARONESS. Yes, your love was always material.
BARON. Material as everything spiritual, and spiritual as all that is material! My weakness for you, which gave strength to my feeling, made you believe yourself the stronger, when you were simply coarser, more ill-natured, and more unscrupulous than I.
BARONESS. You the stronger? You, who never want the same thing two minutes in a stretch! You, who as a rule never know what you want!
BARON. Yes, I know perfectly well what I want, but there is room in me for both love and hatred, and while I love you one minute, I hate you the next. And just now I hate you!
BARONESS. Are you now thinking of the child also?
BARON. Yes, now and always! And do you know why? Because he is our love that has taken flesh. He is the memory of our beautiful hours, the link that unites our souls, the common ground where we must ever meet without wishing to do so. And that is why we shall never be able to part, even if our separation be declared—Oh, if I could only hate you as I want to!
SCENE XI
The JUDGE and the PASTOR enter in conversation and remain in the foreground.
JUDGE. Thus I recognize the utter hopelessness of seeking justice or discovering truth. And it seems to me as if the laws were a couple of centuries behind our ideas of right. Did I not have to punish Alexandersson, who was innocent, and exonerate the girl, who was guilty of theft? And as for this separation suit, I know nothing at all about it at this minute, and I cannot take upon my conscience to render a decision.
PASTOR. But a decision has to be rendered.
JUDGE. Not by me! I shall give up my place and choose another profession.
PASTOR. Why, such a scandal would only bring you notoriety and close every career to you. Keep on judging a few years, and you will come to think it quite easy to crush human fates like egg shells. And for that matter, if you want to stand clear of this case, let yourself be outvoted by the jury. Then they must take the responsibility on themselves.
JUDGE. That is a way—and I suspect that they will be practically at one against me, for I have formed an opinion in this matter, which, however, is wholly intuitive and, therefore, not to be trusted—I thank you for your advice.
SHERIFF. [Who has been talking with Alexandersson, steps up to the JUDGE] In my capacity of public prosecutor, I have to report the farmer Alexandersson as a witness against Baroness Sprengel.
JUDGE. In relation to the adultery charge?
SHERIFF. Yes.
JUDGE. [To the PASTOR] Here is a new clue that may lead to a solution.
PASTOR. Oh, there are lots of clues, if you can only get hold of them.
JUDGE. But nevertheless it is horrible to see two persons who have loved trying to ruin each other. It is like being in a slaughter-house!
PASTOR. Well, that is love, Judge!
JUDGE. What then is hatred?
PASTOR. It is the lining of the coat.
[The JUDGE goes over and speaks to the JURORS.
BARONESS. [Comes forward to the PASTOR] Help us, Pastor! Help us!
PASTOR. I cannot, and as a clergyman, I must not. And furthermore, did I not warn you not to play with such serious matters? You thought it so simple to part! Well, part then! The law will not prevent you, so don't put the blame on it.
SCENE XII
ALL as before.
JUDGE. The Court will now resume its proceedings. According to the report of the public prosecutor, Sheriff Wiberg, a new witness has appeared against the Baroness and is ready to affirm her guilt under the charge of adultery. Farmer Alexandersson!
ALEXANDERSSON. I am here.
JUDGE. How can you prove your assertion?
ALEXANDERSSON. I saw the offence committed.
BARONESS. He is lying! Let him bring proof!
ALEXANDERSSON. Proof? I'm a witness now, ain't I?
BARONESS. Your assertion is no proof, although you happen to be called a witness for the moment.
ALEXANDERSSON. Maybe the witness has to have two more witnesses, and those still others?
BARONESS. Yes, it might be needed when one cannot tell whether the whole lot are lying or not.
BARON. The testimony of Alexandersson will not be required. I beg leave to offer the Court all the correspondence by which the marital infidelity of the Baroness stands completely proved—Here are the originals; copies of them will be found in the possession of defendant.
[The BARONESS utters a cry but controls herself quickly.
JUDGE. And yet, Baroness, you were willing to take the oath a little while ago?
BARONESS. But I didn't take it! And now I think the Baron and I may cry quits.
JUDGE. We do not let one crime cancel another. The account of each one has to be settled separately.
BARONESS. Then I want to file a claim at once against the Baron for my dowry which he has squandered.
JUDGE. If you have squandered your wife's dowry, Baron, it might be well to settle that matter right here.
BARON. The Baroness brought with her six thousand crowns in stock that was then unsalable and soon became wholly worthless. As at the time of our marriage she held a position as a telegrapher and declared herself unwilling to take support from her husband, we made a marriage contract and agreed that each one should be self-supporting. But she lost her position after the marriage, and I have been supporting her ever since. To this I had no objection whatever, but as she is now putting in bills, I shall ask leave to present one of my own to meet hers. It totals up to thirty-five thousand crowns, this being one-third of the household expenses since the beginning of our marriage, and I being willing to take two-thirds upon myself.
JUDGE. Have you this agreement in black and white, Baron?
BARON. I have not.
JUDGE. Have you any documents to prove the disposition of your dowry, Baroness?
BARONESS. I didn't think at the time it would be necessary to get anything in writing, as I supposed myself to be dealing with honourable people.
JUDGE. Then this whole question cannot come under consideration here. The jury will please step into the small court-room for discussion of the case and formulation of a decision.
SCENE XIII
The JURY and the JUDGE go out to the right.
ALEXANDERSSON. [To the Sheriff] This here justice is more than I can get any sense out of.
SHERIFF. I think it would be wiser for you to go right home now, or you might have the same experience as the farmer from Mariestad. Did you ever hear of it?
ALEXANDERSSON. No.
SHERIFF. Well, he went to court as spectator, was dragged into the case as witness, became a party to it, and ended up with a flogging at the whipping-post.
ALEXANDERSSON. Oh, hell! But I believe it of 'em! I believe anything of 'em! [Goes out.
The BARON joins the BARONESS in the foreground.
BARONESS. You find it hard to keep away from me.
BARON. Now I have struck you down, and I am bleeding to death myself, for your blood is mine——
BARONESS. And how clever you are at making out bills!
BARON. Only when it comes to counter-claims! Your courage is that of despair, or that of a person sentenced to death. And when you leave here, you will collapse. Then you will no longer be able to load your sorrow and guilt on me, and you will be suffering from remorse. Do you know why I have not killed you?
BARONESS. Because you did not dare!
BARON. No! Not even the thought of hell could have held me back—for I don't believe in it. But this was the thought that did it: even if you get the child, you will be gone in five years. That is what the doctor tells me. And then the child might be left without either father or mother. Think of it—all alone in the world!
BARONESS. Five years!—It is a lie!
BARON. In five years! And then I am left behind with the child whether you want it or not.
BARONESS. Oh no! For then my family will bring suit to get the child away from you. I don't die when I die!
BARON. Evil never dies! That is so! But can you explain why you grudge me the child, and grudge the child me, whom it needs? Is it sheer malice—a craving for revenge that punishes the child? [The BARONESS remains silent] Do you know, I remarked to the Pastor that I thought possibly you might have some doubts concerning the child's parentage, and that this might be a reason why you would not let me have the child, lest my happiness be built on a false foundation. And he replied: No, I don't think her capable of it—not of such a fine motive—I don't think you know yourself what makes you so fanatical about this one thing: it is the yearning for continued existence that goads you into maintaining your hold. Our son has your body, but my soul, and that soul you cannot rid him of. In him you will have me back when you least expect it; in him you will find my thoughts, my tastes, my passions, and for this reason you will hate him one day, as you hate me now. That is what I fear!
BARONESS. You seem still a little afraid that he may become mine?
BARON. In your quality of mother and woman, you have a certain advantage over me with our judges, and although justice may throw dice blindfolded, there is always a little lead on one side of each die.
BARONESS. You know how to pay compliments even in the moment of separation. Perhaps you don't hate me as much as you pretend?
BARON. Frankly speaking, I think that I hate not so much you as my dishonour, though you, too, come in for a share. And why this hatred? Perhaps I have overlooked that you are near the forties, and that a masculine element is making its appearance in you. Perhaps it is this element that I notice in your kisses, in your embraces—perhaps that is what I find so repulsive?
BARONESS. Perhaps. For the sorrow of my life has been, as you well know, that I was not born a man.
BARON. Perhaps that became the sorrow of my life! And now you try to avenge yourself on nature for having played with you, and so you want to bring up your son as a woman. Will you promise me one thing?
BARONESS. Will you promise me one thing?
BARON. What is the use of promising?
BARONESS. No, let us give no more promises.
BARON. Will you answer a question truthfully?
BARONESS. If I told the truth, you would think I lied.
BARON. Yes, so I should!
BARONESS. Can you see now that all is over, for ever?
BARON. For ever! It was for ever that we once swore to love each other.
BARONESS. It is too bad that such oaths must be taken!
BARON. Why so? It is always a bond, such as it is.
BARONESS. I never could bear with bonds!
BARON. Do you think it would have been better for us not to bind ourselves?
BARONESS. Better for me, yes.
BARON. I wonder. For then you could not have bound me.
BARONESS. Nor you me.
BARON. And so the result would have been the same—as when you reduce fractions. Consequently: not the law's fault; not our own; not anybody else's. And yet we have to assume the responsibility! [The SHERIFF approaches] So! Now the verdict has been pronounced—Good-bye, Helen!
BARONESS. Good-bye—Axel!
BARON. It is hard to part! And impossible to live together. But the fight is over at least!
BARONESS. If it were! I fear it is just about to begin.
SHERIFF. The parties will retire while the Court takes action.
BARONESS. Axel, a word before it is too late! After all, they might take the child away from both of us. Drive home and take the boy to your mother, and then we will flee from here, far away!
BARON. I think you are trying to fool me again.
BARONESS. No, I am not. I am no longer thinking of you, or of myself, or of my revenge. Save the child only! Listen, Axel—you must do it!
BARON. I will. But if you are deceiving me—Never mind: I'll do it!
Goes out quickly. The BARONESS leaves through the door in the background.
SCENE XIV
The JURY and the JUDGE enter and resume their seats.
JUDGE. As we now have the case complete before us, I shall ask each juror separately to state his opinion before decision is rendered. Personally, I can only hold it reasonable that the child be given to the mother, as both parties are equally to blame for the estrangement, and as the mother must be held better adapted to the care of the child than the father. [Silence.
ALEXANDER EKLUND. According to prevailing law, it is the wife who takes her rank and condition from the husband, not the husband from the wife.
EMMANUEL WICKBERG. And the husband is the proper guardian of his wife.
CARL JOHAN SJÖBERG. The ritual, which gives binding force to the marriage, says that the wife should obey her husband, and so it is clear to me that the man takes precedence of the woman.
ERIC OTTO BOMAN. And the children are to be brought up in the faith of the father.
ÄRENFRID SÖDERBERG. From which may be concluded that children follow the father and not the mother.
OLOF ANDERSSON OF WIK. But as in the case before us both man and wife are equally guilty, and, judging by what has come to light, equally unfit to rear a child, I hold that the child should be taken away from both.
CARL PETER ANDERSSON OF BERGA. In concurring with Olof Andersson, I may call to mind that in such cases the Court names two good men as guardians to take charge of children and property, so that out of the latter man and wife may have their support together with the child.
AXEL WALLIN. And for guardians I wish in this case to propose Alexander Eklund and Ärenfrid Söderberg, both of whom are well known to be of honest character and Christian disposition.
ANDERS ERIC RUTH. I concur with Olof Andersson of Wik as to the separation of the child from both father and mother, and with Axel Wallin as to the guardians, whose Christian disposition makes them particularly fitted to bring up the child.
SWEN OSCAR ERLING. I concur in what has just been said.
AUGUST ALEXANDER VASS. I concur.
LUDWIG ÖSTMAN. I concur.
JUDGE. AS the opinion expressed by a majority of the jurors is contrary to my own, I must ask the Jury to take a vote on the matter. And I think it proper first to put the motion made by Olof Andersson for the separation of the child from both father and mother, and for the appointment of guardians. Is it the unanimous will of the Jury that such action be taken?
ALL THE JURORS. Yes.
JUDGE. If anybody objects to the motion, he will hold up his hand. [Silence] The opinion of the Jury has won out against my own, and I shall enter an exception on the minutes against what seems to me the needless cruelty of the decision—The couple will then be sentenced to a year's separation of bed and board, at the risk of imprisonment if, during that period, they should seek each other. [To the SHERIFF] Call in the parties.
SCENE XV
The BARONESS and SPECTATORS enter.
JUDGE. Is Baron Sprengel not present?
BARONESS. The Baron will be here in a moment.
JUDGE. Whoever does not observe the time, has only himself to blame. This is the decision of the County Court: that husband and wife be sentenced to a year's separation of bed and board, and that the child be taken from the parents and placed in charge of two guardians for education. For this purpose the Court has selected and appointed the jurors Alexander Eklund and Ärenfrid Söderberg.
The BARONESS cries out and sinks to the floor. The SHERIFF and the CONSTABLE raise her up and place her on a chair. Some of the SPECTATORS leave in the meantime.
BARON. [Enters] Your Honor! I heard the sentence of the Court from the outside, and I wish to enter a challenge, first against the Jury as a whole, it being made up of my personal enemies, and secondly against the guardians, Alexander Eklund and Ärenfrid Söderberg, neither of whom possesses the financial status demanded of guardians. Furthermore, I shall enter proceedings against the judge for incompetence displayed in the exercise of his office, in so far as he has failed to recognise that the primary guilt of one led to the subsequent guilt of the other, so that both cannot be held equally responsible.
JUDGE. Whosoever be not satisfied with the decision rendered may appeal to the higher court within the term set by law. Will the Jury please accompany me on house visitation to the Rectory in connection with the suit pending against the communal assessors?
The JUDGE and the JURY go out through the door in the background.
SCENE XVI
The BARON and the BARONESS. The SPECTATORS withdraw gradually.
BARONESS. Where is Emil?
BARON. He was gone!
BARONESS. That's a lie!
BARON. [After a pause] Yes—I did not bring him to my mother, whom I cannot trust, but to the Rectory.
BARONESS. To the minister!
BARON. Your one reliable enemy! Yes. Who was there else that I might trust? And I did it because a while ago I caught a glance in your eye which made me think that you possibly might kill yourself and the child.
BARONESS. You saw that!—Oh, why did I let myself be fooled into believing you.
BARON. Well, what do you say of all this?
BARONESS. I don't know. But I am so tired that I no longer feel the blows. It seems almost a relief to have received the final stab.
BARON. You give no thought to what is now going to happen: how your son is going to be brought up by two peasants, whose ignorance and rude habits will kill the child by slow torture; how he is going to be forced down into their narrow sphere; how his intelligence is going to be smothered by religious superstition; how he is going to be taught contempt for his father and mother——
BARONESS. Hush! Don't say another word, or I shall lose my reason! My Emil in the hands of peasant women, who don't know enough to wash themselves, who have their beds full of vermin, and who cannot even keep a comb clean! My Emil! No, it is impossible!
BARON. It is the actual reality, and you have nobody but yourself to blame for it.
BARONESS. Myself? But did I make myself? Did I put evil tendencies, hatred, and wild passions into myself? No! And who was it that denied me the power and will to combat all those things?—When I look at myself this moment, I feel that I am to be pitied. Am I not?
BARON. Yes, you are! Both of us are to be pitied. We tried to avoid the rocks that beset marriage by living unmarried as husband and wife; but nevertheless we quarrelled, and we were sacrificing one of life's greatest joys, the respect of our fellow-men—and so we were married. But we must needs steal a march on the social body and its laws. We wanted no religious ceremony, but instead we wriggled into a civil marriage. We did not want to depend on each other—we were to have no common pocket-book and to insist on no personal ownership of each other—and with that we fell right back into the old rut again. Without wedding ceremony, but with a marriage contract! And then it went to pieces. I forgave your faithlessness, and for the child's sake we lived together in voluntary separation—and freedom! But I grew tired of introducing my friend's mistress as my wife—and so we had to get a divorce. Can you guess—do you know against whom we have been fighting? You call him God, but I call him nature. And that was the master who egged us on to hate each other, just as he is egging people on to love each other. And now we are condemned to keep on tearing each other as long as a spark of life remains. New proceedings in the higher court, reopening of the case, report by the Vestry Board, opinion from the Diocesan Chapter, decision by the Supreme Court. Then comes my complaint to the Attorney-General, my application for a guardian, your objections and counter-suits: from pillory to post! Without hope of a merciful executioner! Neglect of the property, financial ruin, scamped education for the child! And why do we not put an end to these two miserable lives? Because the child stays our hands! You cry, but I cannot! Not even when my thought runs ahead to the night that is waiting for me in a home laid waste! And you, poor Helen, who must go back to your mother! That mother whom you once left with such eagerness in order to get a home of your own. To become her daughter once more—and perhaps find it worse than being a wife! One year! Two years! Many years! How many more do you think we can bear to suffer?
BARONESS. I shall never go back to my mother. Never! I shall go out on the high-roads and into the woods so that I may find a hiding-place where I can scream—scream myself tired against God, who has put this infernal love into the world as a torment for us human creatures—and when night comes, I shall seek shelter in the Pastor's barn, so that I may sleep near my child.
BARON. You hope to sleep to-night—you?