ROSMERSHOLM (1886) (continued 2)

Rebecca.

Not——? Not through you?

Rosmer.

Nor for me.

Rebecca.

Oh Rosmer, do not let such doubts take hold of you.

Rosmer.

Happiness—dear Rebecca—happiness is above all things the calm, glad certainty of innocence.

106Rebecca.

[Looks straight before her.] Yes, innocence——

Rosmer.

Oh, you cannot know what guilt means. But I——

Rebecca.

You least of all!

Rosmer.

[Points out of the window.] The mill race.

Rebecca.

Oh Rosmer——!

Madam Helseth looks in at the door.

Madam Helseth.

Miss West!

Rebecca.

Presently, presently. Not now.

Madam Helseth.

Only a word, Miss.

[Rebecca goes to the door. Madam Helseth tells her something. They whisper together for a few moments. Madam Helseth nods and goes out.

Rosmer.

[Uneasily.] Was it anything for me?

Rebecca.

No, only something about the house-work.—You ought to go out into the fresh air, dear Rosmer. You should take a good long walk.

107Rosmer.

[Takes up his hat.] Yes, come. Let us go together.

Rebecca.

No, dear, I can’t just now. You must go alone. But shake off all these gloomy thoughts. Promise me.

Rosmer.

I am afraid I shall never shake them off.

Rebecca.

Oh, that such baseless fancies should take so strong a hold of you——!

Rosmer.

Not so baseless I am afraid, Rebecca. I lay awake all night thinking it over and over. Perhaps Beata saw clearly after all.

Rebecca.

In what?

Rosmer.

In her belief that I loved you, Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Right in that!

Rosmer.

[Lays his hat down on the table.] The question that haunts me is this: were we two not deceiving ourselves all the time—when we called our relation friendship?

Rebecca.

You mean that it might as well have been called——?

108Rosmer.

——love. Yes, Rebecca, that is what I mean. Even while Beata was alive, all my thoughts were for you. It was you alone I longed for. It was when you were by my side that I felt the calm gladness of utter content. If you think it over, Rebecca—did we not feel for each other from the first a sort of sweet, secret child-love—desireless, dreamless? Was it not so with you? Tell me.

Rebecca.

[Struggling with herself.] Oh—I don’t know what to answer.

Rosmer.

And it was this close-linked life in and for each other that we took for friendship. No, Rebecca—our bond has been a spiritual marriage—perhaps from the very first. That is why there is guilt on my soul. I had no right to such happiness—it was a sin against Beata.

Rebecca.

No right to live happily? Do you believe that, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

She looked at our relation with the eyes of her love—judged it after the fashion of her love. Inevitably. Beata could not have judged otherwise than she did.

Rebecca.

But how can you accuse yourself because of Beata’s delusion?

Rosmer.

It was love for me—her kind of love—that drove her into the mill race. That is an immovable 109fact, Rebecca. And that is what I can never get over.

Rebecca.

Oh, think of nothing but the great, beautiful task you have devoted your life to.

Rosmer.

[Shakes his head.] It can never be accomplished, dear. Not by me. Not after what I have come to know.

Rebecca.

Why not by you?

Rosmer.

Because no cause ever triumphs that has its origin in sin.

Rebecca.

[Vehemently.] Oh, these are only ancestral doubts—ancestral fears—ancestral scruples. They say the dead come back to Rosmersholm in the shape of rushing white horses. I think this shows that it is true.

Rosmer.

Be that as it may; what does it matter, so long as I cannot rid myself of the feeling? And believe me, Rebecca, it is as I tell you. The cause that is to win a lasting victory must have for its champion a happy, an innocent man.

Rebecca.

Is happiness so indispensable to you, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Happiness? Yes, dear,—it is.

110Rebecca.

To you, who can never laugh?

Rosmer.

Yes, in spite of that. Believe me, I have a great capacity for happiness.

Rebecca.

Now go for your walk, dear. A good long walk. Do you hear?—See, here is your hat. And your stick too.

Rosmer.

[Takes both.] Thanks. And you won’t come with me?

Rebecca.

No, no; I can’t just now.

Rosmer.

Very well, then. You are with me none the less.

[He goes out by the entrance door. Rebecca waits a moment, cautiously watching his departure from behind the open door; then she goes to the door on the right.

Rebecca.

[Opens the door, and says in a low tone.] Now, Madam Helseth. You can show him in now.

[Goes towards the window.

A moment after Rector Kroll enters from the right. He bows silently and formally, and keeps his hat in his hand.

Kroll.

He has gone out?

111Rebecca.

Yes.

Kroll.

Does he usually stay out long?

Rebecca.

Yes, he does. But one cannot count on him to-day. So if you don’t care to meet him——

Kroll.

No, no. It is you I want to speak to,—quite alone.

Rebecca.

Then we had better not lose time. Sit down, Rector.

[She sits in the easy-chair by the window. Rector Kroll sits on a chair beside her.

Kroll.

Miss West—you can scarcely imagine how deeply and painfully I have taken this to heart—this change in Johannes Rosmer.

Rebecca.

We expected it would be so—at first.

Kroll.

Only at first?

Rebecca.

Rosmer was confident that sooner or later you would join him.

Kroll.

I?

Rebecca.

You and all his other friends.

112Kroll.

Ah, there you see! That shows the infirmity of his judgment in all that concerns men and practical life.

Rebecca.

But after all—since he feels it a necessity to emancipate himself on all sides——

Kroll.

Yes, but wait—that is just what I do not believe.

Rebecca.

What do you believe then?

Kroll.

I believe that you are at the bottom of it all.

Rebecca.

It is your wife who has put that in your head, Rector Kroll.

Kroll.

No matter who has put it in my head. What is certain is that I feel a strong suspicion—an exceedingly strong suspicion—when I think things over, and piece together all I know of your behaviour ever since you came here.

Rebecca.

[Looks at him.] I seem to recollect a time when you felt an exceedingly strong faith in me, dear Rector. I might almost call it a warm faith.

Kroll.

[In a subdued voice.] Whom could you not bewitch—if you tried?

113Rebecca.

Did I try——?

Kroll.

Yes, you did. I am no longer such a fool as to believe that there was any feeling in the matter. You simply wanted to get a footing at Rosmersholm—to strike root here—and in that I was to serve you. Now I see it.

Rebecca.

You seem utterly to have forgotten that it was Beata who begged and implored me to come out here?

Kroll.

Yes, when you had bewitched her to. Can the feeling she came to entertain for you be called friendship? It was adoration—almost idolatry. It developed into—what shall I call it?—a sort of desperate passion.—Yes, that is the right word for it.

Rebecca.

Be so good as to recollect the state your sister was in. So far as I am concerned, I don’t think any one can accuse me of being hysterical.

Kroll.

No; that you certainly are not. But that makes you all the more dangerous to the people you want to get into your power. It is easy for you to weigh your acts and calculate consequences—just because your heart is cold.

Rebecca.

Cold? Are you so sure of that?

114Kroll.

I am quite certain of it now. Otherwise you could never have lived here year after year without faltering in the pursuit of your object. Well, well—you have gained your end. You have got him and everything into your power. But in order to do so, you have not scrupled to make him unhappy.

Rebecca.

That is not true. It is not I—it is you yourself that have made him unhappy.

Kroll.

I?

Rebecca.

Yes, when you led him to imagine that he was responsible for Beata’s terrible end.

Kroll.

Does he feel that so deeply, then?

Rebecca.

How can you doubt it? A mind so sensitive as his——

Kroll.

I thought that an emancipated man, so called, was above all such scruples.—But there we have it! Oh yes—I admit I knew how it would be. The descendant of the men that look down on us from these walls—how could he hope to cut himself adrift from all that has been handed down without a break from generation to generation?

Rebecca.

[Looks down thoughtfully.] Johannes Rosmer’s 115spirit is deeply rooted in his ancestry. That is very certain.

Kroll.

Yes, and you should have taken that fact into consideration, if you had felt any affection for him. But that sort of consideration was no doubt beyond you. There is such an immeasurable difference between your antecedents and his.

Rebecca.

What antecedents do you mean?

Kroll.

I am speaking of your origin—your family antecedents, Miss West.

Rebecca.

Oh, indeed! Yes, it is quite true that I come of very humble folk. Nevertheless——

Kroll.

I am not thinking of rank and position. I allude to your moral antecedents.

Rebecca.

Moral——? In what sense?

Kroll.

The circumstances of your birth.

Rebecca.

What do you mean?

Kroll.

I only mention the matter because it accounts for your whole conduct.

116Rebecca.

I do not understand this. You must explain.

Kroll.

I really did not suppose you could require an explanation. Otherwise it would have been very odd that you should have let Dr. West adopt you——

Rebecca.

[Rises.] Ah! Now I understand.

Kroll.

——and that you should have taken his name. Your mother’s name was Gamvik.

Rebecca.

[Walks across the room.] My father’s name was Gamvik, Rector Kroll.

Kroll.

Your mother’s business must have brought her very frequently into contact with the parish doctor.

Rebecca.

Yes, it did.

Kroll.

And then he takes you into his house—as soon as your mother dies. He treats you harshly; and yet you stay with him. You know that he won’t leave you a halfpenny—as a matter of fact, you only got a case full of books—and yet you stay on; you bear with him; you nurse him to the last.

Rebecca.

[Stands by the table, looking scornfully at him.] And you account for all this by assuming that 117there was something immoral—something criminal about my birth?

Kroll.

I attribute your care for him to involuntary filial instinct. Indeed I believe your whole conduct is determined by your origin.

Rebecca.

[Vehemently.] But there is not a single word of truth in what you say! And I can prove it! Dr. West did not come to Finmark till after I was born.

Kroll.

Excuse me, Miss West. He settled there the year before. I have assured myself of that.

Rebecca.

You are mistaken, I say! You are utterly mistaken.

Kroll.

You told me the day before yesterday that you were nine-and-twenty—in your thirtieth year.

Rebecca.

Indeed! Did I say so?

Kroll.

Yes, you did. And I can calculate from that——

Rebecca.

Stop! You needn’t calculate. I may as well tell you at once: I am a year older than I give myself out to be.

118Kroll.

[Smiles incredulously.] Really! I am surprised! What can be the reason of that?

Rebecca.

When I had passed twenty-five, it seemed to me I was getting altogether too old for an unmarried woman. And so I began to lie about my age.

Kroll.

You? An emancipated woman! Have you prejudices about the age for marriage?

Rebecca.

Yes, it was idiotic of me—idiotic and absurd. But some folly or other will always cling to us, not to be shaken off. We are made so.

Kroll.

Well, so be it; but my calculation may be right, none the less. For Dr. West was up there on a short visit the year before he got the appointment.

Rebecca.

[With a vehement outburst.] It is not true!

Kroll.

Is it not true?

Rebecca.

No. My mother never spoke of any such visit.

Kroll.

Did she not?

Rebecca.

No, never. Nor Dr. West either; not a word about it.it.

119Kroll.

Might not that be because they both had reasons for suppressing a year? Just as you have done, Miss West. Perhaps it is a family foible.

Rebecca.

[Walks about clenching and wringing her hands.] It is impossible. You want to cheat me into believing it. This can never, never be true! It cannot! Never in this world——!

Kroll.

[Rises.] My dear Miss West—why in heaven’s name are you so terribly excited? You quite frighten me! What am I to think—to believe——?

Rebecca.

Nothing! You are to think and believe nothing.

Kroll.

Then you must really tell me how you can take this affair—this possibility—so terribly to heart.

Rebecca.

[Controlling herself.] It is perfectly simple, Rector Kroll. I have no wish to be taken for an illegitimate child.

Kroll.

Indeed! Well well, let us be satisfied with that explanation—in the meantime. But in that case you must still have a certain—prejudice on that point too?

Rebecca.

Yes, I suppose I have.

120Kroll.

Ah, I fancy it is much the same with most of what you call your “emancipation.” You have read yourself into a number of new ideas and opinions. You have got a sort of smattering of recent discoveries in various fields—discoveries that seem to overthrow certain principles which have hitherto been held impregnable and unassailable. But all this has only been a matter of the intellect, Miss West—a superficial acquisition. It has not passed into your blood.

Rebecca.

[Thoughtfully.] Perhaps you are right.

Kroll.

Yes, look into your own mind, and you will see! And if this is the case with you, one may easily guess how it must be with Johannes Rosmer. It is sheer, unmitigated madness—it is running blindfold to destruction—for him to think of coming openly forward and confessing himself an apostate! Only think—a man of his sensitive nature! Imagine him disowned and persecuted by the circle of which he has always formed a part—exposed to ruthless attacks from all the best people in the community! He is not—he never can be the man to endure all that.

Rebecca.

He must endure it! It is too late now for him to retreat.

Kroll.

Not at all too late. By no means. What has happened can be hushed up—or at least explained away as a mere temporary aberration, however 121deplorable. But—one measure is certainly indispensable.

Rebecca.

And what is that?

Kroll.

You must get him to legalise the position, Miss West.

Rebecca.

His position towards me?

Kroll.

Yes. You must make him do that.

Rebecca.

Then you absolutely cannot clear your mind of the idea that our position requires to be—legalised, as you call it?

Kroll.

I would rather not go into the matter too closely. But I believe I have noticed that it is nowhere easier to break through all so-called prejudices than in—h’m——

Rebecca.

In the relation between man and woman, you mean?

Kroll.

Yes,—to speak plainly—I think so.

Rebecca.

[Wanders across the room and looks out at the window.] I could almost say—I wish you were right, Rector Kroll.

122Kroll.

What do you mean by that? You say it so strangely.

Rebecca.

Oh, well—please let us drop the subject. Ah,—there he comes.

Kroll.

Already! Then I will go.

Rebecca.

[Goes towards him.] No—please stay. There is something I want you to hear.

Kroll.

Not now. I don’t feel as if I could bear to see him.

Rebecca.

I beg you to stay. Do! If not, you will regret it by-and-by. It is the last time I shall ask you for anything.

Kroll.

[Looks at her in surprise and puts down his hat.] Very well, Miss West—so be it, then.

A short silence. Then Johannes Rosmer enters from the hall.

Rosmer.

[Sees the Rector, and stops in the doorway.] What!—Are you here?

Rebecca.

He did not wish to meet you, dear.^[11]

Kroll.

[Involuntarily.] “Dear!”

123Rebecca.

Yes, Rector Kroll, Rosmer and I say “dear” to each other. That is one result of our “position.”

Kroll.

Was that what you wanted me to hear?

Rebecca.

That—and a little more.

Rosmer.

[Comes forward.] What is the object of this visit?

Kroll.

I wanted to try once more to stop you and win you back to us.

Rosmer.

[Points to the newspaper.] After what appears in that paper?

Kroll.

I did not write it.

Rosmer.

Did you make the slightest effort to prevent its appearance?

Kroll.

That would have been to betray the cause I serve. And, besides, it was not in my power.

Rebecca.

[Tears the paper into shreds, crushes up the pieces and throws them behind the stove.] There! Now it is out of sight. And let it be out of mind too. For there will be nothing more of that sort, Rosmer.

124Kroll.

Ah, if you could only make sure of that!

Rebecca.

Come, let us sit down, dear. All three of us. And then I will tell you everything.

Rosmer.

[Seats himself mechanically.] What has come over you, Rebecca? This unnatural calmness—what is it?

Rebecca.

The calmness of resolution. [Seats herself.] Pray sit down too, Rector.

[Rector Kroll seats himself on the sofasofa.

Rosmer.

Resolution, you say? What resolution?

Rebecca.

I am going to give you back what you require in order to live your life. Dear friend, you shall have your happy innocence back again!

Rosmer.

What can you mean?

Rebecca.

I have only to tell you something. That will be enough.

Rosmer.

Well!

Rebecca.

When I came down here from Finmark—along with Dr. West—it seemed to me that a great, wide 125new world was opening up before me. The Doctor had taught me all sorts of things—all the fragmentary knowledge of life that I possessed in those days. [With a struggle and in a scarcely audible voice.] And then——

Kroll.

And then?

Rosmer.

But Rebecca—I know all this.

Rebecca.

[Mastering herself.] Yes, yes—you are right. You know enough about this.

Kroll.

[Looks hard at her.] Perhaps I had better go.

Rebecca.

No, please stay where you are, my dear Rector. [To Rosmer.] Well, you see, this was how it was—I wanted to take my share in the life of the new era that was dawning, with all its new ideas.—Rector Kroll told me one day that Ulric Brendel had had great influence over you while you were still a boy. I thought it must surely be possible for me to carry on his work.

Rosmer.

You came here with a secret design——?

Rebecca.

We two, I thought, should march onward in freedom, side by side. Ever onward. Ever farther and farther to the front. But between you 126and perfect emancipation there rose that dismal, insurmountable barrier.

Rosmer.

What barrier do you mean?

Rebecca.

I mean this, Rosmer: You could grow into freedom only in the clear, fresh sunshine—and here you were pining, sickening in the gloom of such a marriage.

Rosmer.

You have never before spoken to me of my marriage in that tone.

Rebecca.

No, I did not dare to, for I should have frightened you.

Kroll.

[Nods to Rosmer.] Do you hear that?

Rebecca.

[Goes on.] But I saw quite well where your deliverance lay—your only deliverance. And then I went to work.

Rosmer.

Went to work? In what way?

Kroll.

Do you mean that——?

Rebecca.

Yes, Rosmer—— [Rises.] Sit still. You too, Rector Kroll. But now it must out. It was not you, Rosmer. You are innocent. It was I that 127lured—that ended in luring Beata out into the paths of delusion——

Rosmer.

[Springs up.] Rebecca!

Kroll.

[Rises from the sofa.] The paths of delusion!

Rebecca.

The paths—that led to the mill race. Now you know it, both of you.

Rosmer.

[As if stunned.] But I don’t understand——What is it she is saying? I don’t understand a word——!

Kroll.

Oh yes, Rosmer, I am beginning to understand.

Rosmer.

But what did you do? What can you possibly have told her? There was nothing—absolutely nothing to tell!

Rebecca.

She came to know that you were working yourself free from all the old prejudices.

Rosmer.

Yes, but that was not the case at that time.

Rebecca.

I knew that it soon would be.

Kroll.

[Nods to Rosmer.] Aha!

128Rosmer.

And then? What more? I must know all now.

Rebecca.

Some time after—I begged and implored her to let me go away from Rosmersholm.

Rosmer.

Why did you want to go—then?

Rebecca.

I did not want to go; I wanted to stay here, where I was. But I told her that it would be best for us all—that I should go away in time. I gave her to understand that if I stayed here any longer, I could not—I could not tell—what might happen.

Rosmer.

Then this is what you said and did!

Rebecca.

Yes, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

This is what you call “going to work.”

Rebecca.

[In a broken voice.] I called it so, yes.

Rosmer.

[After a pause.] Have you confessed all now, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

Yes.

Kroll.

Not all.

129Rebecca.

[Looks at him in fear.] What more should there be?

Kroll.

Did you not at last give Beata to understand that it was necessary—not only that it would be wisest, but that it was necessary—both for your own sake and Rosmer’s, that you should go away somewhere—as soon as possible?—Well?

Rebecca.

[Low and indistinctly.] Perhaps I did say something of the sort.

Rosmer.

[Sinks into the arm-chair by the window] And] And this tissue of lies and deceit she—my unhappy, sick wife believed in! Believed in it so firmly! So immovably! [Looks up at Rebecca.] And she never turned to me. Never said one word to me! Oh, Rebecca,—I can see it in your face—you dissuaded her from it!

Rebecca.

She had conceived a fixed idea that she, as a childless wife, had no right to be here. And then she imagined that it was her duty to you to efface herself.

Rosmer.

And you—you did nothing to disabuse her of the idea?

Rebecca.

No.

Kroll.

Perhaps you confirmed her in it? Answer me! Did you not?

130Rebecca.

I believe she may have understood me so.

Rosmer.

Yes, yes—and in everything she bowed before your will. And she did efface herself! [Springs up.] How could you—how could you play this ghastly game!

Rebecca.

It seemed to me I had to choose between your life and hers, Rosmer.

Kroll.

[Severely and impressively.] That choice was not for you to make.

Rebecca.

[Vehemently.] You think then that I was cool and calculating and self-possessed all the time! I was not the same woman then that I am now, as I stand here telling it all. Besides, there are two sorts of will in us I believe! I wanted Beata away, by one means or another; but I never really believed that it would come to pass. As I felt my way forward, at each step I ventured, I seemed to hear something within me cry out: No farther! Not a step farther! And yet I could not stop. I had to venture the least little bit farther. Only one hair’s-breadth more. And then one more—and always one more.—And then it happened.—That is the way such things come about.

[A short silence.

Rosmer

[To Rebecca.] What do you think lies before you now? After this?

131Rebecca.

Things must go with me as they will. It doesn’t greatly matter.

Kroll.

Not a word of remorse! Is it possible you feel none?

Rebecca.

[Coldly putting aside his question.] Excuse me, Rector Kroll—that is a matter which concerns no one but me. I must settle it with myself.

Kroll.

[To Rosmer.] And this is the woman you are living under the same roof with—in the closest intimacy! [Looks round at the pictures.] Oh if those that are gone could see us now!

Rosmer.

Are you going back to town?

Kroll.

[Takes up his hat.] Yes. The sooner the better.

Rosmer.

[Does the same.] Then I will go with you.

Kroll.

Will you! Ah yes, I was sure we had not lost you for good.

Rosmer.

Come then, Kroll! Come!

[Both go out through the hall without looking at Rebecca.

[After a moment, Rebecca goes cautiously to the window and looks out through the flowers.

132Rebecca.

[Speaks to herself under her breath.] Not over the foot-bridge to-day either. He goes round. Never across the mill race. Never. [Leaves the window.] Well, well, well!

[Goes and pulls the bell-rope; a moment after, Madam Helseth enters from the right.

Madam Helseth.

What is it, Miss?

Rebecca.

Madam Helseth, would you be so good as to have my trunk brought down from the garret?

Madam Helseth.

Your trunk?

Rebecca.

Yes—the brown sealskin trunk, you know.

Madam Helseth.

Yes, yes. But, Lord preserve us—are you going on a journey, Miss?

Rebecca.

Yes—now I am going on a journey, Madam Helseth.

Madam Helseth.

And immediately!

Rebecca.

As soon as I have packed up.

Madam Helseth.

Well, I’ve never heard the like of that! But you’ll come back again soon, Miss, of course?

133Rebecca.

I shall never come back again.

Madam Helseth.

Never! Dear Lord, what will things be like at Rosmersholm when you’re gone, Miss? And the poor Pastor was just beginning to be so happy and comfortable.

Rebecca.

Yes, but I have taken fright to-day, Madam Helseth.

Madam Helseth.

Taken fright! Dear, dear! how was that?

Rebecca.

I thought I saw something like a glimpse of white horses.

Madam Helseth.

White horses! In broad daylight!

Rebecca.

Oh, they are abroad early and late—the white horses of Rosmersholm. [With a change of tone.] Well,—about the trunk, Madam Helseth.

Madam Helseth.

Yes, yes. The trunk. [Both go out to the right.

134

ACT FOURTH.

The sitting-room at Rosmersholm. Late evening. A lighted lamp, with a shade over it, on the table.

Rebecca West stands by the table, packing some small articles in a hand-bag. Her cloak, hat, and the white crocheted shawl are hanging over the back of the sofa.

Madam Helseth enters from the right.

Madam Helseth.

[Speaks in a low voice and appears ill at ease.] All your things have been taken down, Miss. They are in the kitchen passage.

Rebecca.

Very well. You have ordered the carriage?

Madam Helseth.

Yes. The coachman wants to know what time he ought to be here.

Rebecca.

About eleven o’clock, I think. The steamer starts at midnight.

Madam Helseth.

[Hesitates a little.] But the Pastor? If he shouldn’t be home by that time?

135Rebecca.

I shall go all the same. If I don’t see him, you can tell him that I will write to him—a long letter. Tell him that.

Madam Helseth.

Yes, writing—that may be all very well. But, poor Miss West—I do think you should try to speak to him once more.

Rebecca.

Perhaps so. And yet—perhaps not.

Madam Helseth.

Well—that I should live to see this! I never thought of such a thing.

Rebecca.

What did you think then, Madam Helseth?

Madam Helseth.

Well, I certainly thought Pastor Rosmer was a more dependable man than this.

Rebecca.

Dependable?

Madam Helseth.

Yes, that’s what I say.

Rebecca.

Why, my dear Madam Helseth, what do you mean?

Madam Helseth.

I mean what’s right and true, Miss. He shouldn’t get out of it in this way, that he shouldn’t.

136Rebecca.

[Looks at her.] Come now, Madam Helseth, tell me plainly; what do you think is the reason I am going away?

Madam Helseth.

Well, Heaven forgive us, I suppose it can’t be helped, Miss. Ah, well, well, well! But I certainly don’t think the Pastor’s behaving handsome-like. Mortensgård had some excuse; for her husband was alive, so that they two couldn’t marry, however much they wanted to. But as for the Pastor—h’m!

Rebecca.

[With a faint smile.] Could you have believed such a thing of Pastor Rosmer and me?

Madam Helseth.

No, never in this world. At least, I mean—not until to-day.

Rebecca.

But to-day, then——?

Madam Helseth.

Well,—after all the horrible things that they tell me the papers are saying about the Pastor——

Rebecca.

Aha!

Madam Helseth.

For the man that can go over to Mortensgård’s religion—good Lord, I can believe anything of him.

Rebecca.

Oh yes, I suppose so. But what about me? What have you to say about me?

137Madam Helseth.

Lord preserve us, Miss—I don’t see that there’s much to be said against you. It’s not so easy for a lone woman to be always on her guard, that’s certain.—We’re all of us human, Miss West.

Rebecca.

That’s very true, Madam Helseth. We are all of us human.—What are you listening to?

Madam Helseth.

[In a low voice.] Oh Lord,—if I don’t believe that’s him coming.

Rebecca.

[Starts.] After all then——? [Resolutely.] Well well; so be it.

Johannes Rosmer enters from the hall.

Rosmer.

[Sees the hand-bag, etc., turns to Rebecca, and asks:] What does this mean?

Rebecca.

I am going.

Rosmer.

At once?

Rebecca.

Yes. [To Madam Helseth.] Eleven o’clock then.

Madam Helseth.

Very well, Miss. [Goes out to the right.

Rosmer.

[After a short pause.] Where are you going to, Rebecca?

138Rebecca.

North, by the steamer.

Rosmer.

North? What takes you to the North?

Rebecca.

It was there I came from.

Rosmer.

But you have no ties there now.

Rebecca.

I have none here either.

Rosmer.

What do you think of doing?

Rebecca.

I don’t know. I only want to have done with it all.

Rosmer.

To have done with it?

Rebecca.

Rosmersholm has broken me.

Rosmer.

[His attention aroused.] Do you say that?

Rebecca.

Broken me utterly and hopelessly.—I had a free and fearless will when I came here. Now I have bent my neck under a strange law.—From this day forth, I feel as if I had no courage for anything in the world.

139Rosmer.

Why not? What is the law that you say you have——?

Rebecca.

Dear, don’t let us talk of that just now.—What happened between you and the Rector?

Rosmer.

We have made peace.

Rebecca.

Ah yes; so that was the end.

Rosmer.

He gathered all our old friends together at his house. They have made it clear to me that the work of ennobling the minds of men—is not for me.—And besides, it is hopeless in itself, Rebecca.—I shall let it alone.

Rebecca.

Yes, yes—perhaps it is best so.

Rosmer.

Is that what you say now? Do you think so now?

Rebecca.

I have come to think so—in the last few days.

Rosmer.

You are lying, Rebecca.

Rebecca.

Lying——!

Rosmer.

Yes, you are lying. You have never believed 140in me. You have never believed that I was man enough to carry the cause through to victory.

Rebecca.

I believed that we two together could do it.

Rosmer.

That is not true. You thought that you yourself could do something great in life; and that you could use me to further your ends. I was to be a serviceable instrument to you—that is what you thought.

Rebecca.

Listen to me, Rosmer——

Rosmer.

[Seats himself listlessly on the sofa.] Oh, what is the use? I see through it all now—I have been like a glove in your hands.

Rebecca.

Listen, Rosmer. Hear what I have to say. It will be for the last time. [Sits in a chair close to the sofa.] I intended to write you all about it—when I was back in the North. But I daresay it is best that you should hear it at once.

Rosmer.

Have you more confessions to make?

Rebecca.

The greatest of all is to come.

Rosmer.

The greatest?

141Rebecca.

What you have never suspected. What gives light and shade to all the rest.

Rosmer.

[Shakes his head.] I don’t understand you at all.

Rebecca.

It is perfectly true that I once schemed to gain a footing at Rosmersholm. I thought I could not fail to turn things to good account here. In one way or the other—you understand.

Rosmer.

Well, you accomplished your ends.

Rebecca.

I believe I could have accomplished anything, anything in the world—at that time. For I had still my fearless, free-born will. I knew no scruples—I stood in awe of no human tie.—But then began what has broken my will—and cowed me so pitiably for all my days.

Rosmer.

What began? Do not speak in riddles.

Rebecca.

It came over me,—this wild, uncontrollable passion——. Oh, Rosmer——!

Rosmer.

Passion? You——! For what?

Rebecca.

For you.

142Rosmer.

[Tries to spring up.] What is this?

Rebecca.

[Stops him.] Sit still, dear; there is more to tell.

Rosmer.

And you mean to say—that you have loved me—in that way!

Rebecca.

I thought that it should be called love—then. Yes, I thought it was love. But it was not. It was what I said. It was a wild, uncontrollable passion.

Rosmer.

[With difficulty.] Rebecca, is it really you—you yourself—that you are speaking of?

Rebecca.

Yes, would you believe it, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Then it was because of this—under the influence of this—that you—that you “went to work,” as you call it?

Rebecca.

It came upon me like a storm on the sea. It was like one of the storms we sometimes have in the North in the winter-time. It seizes you—and whirls you along with it—wherever it will. There is no resisting it.

Rosmer.

And so it swept the unhappy Beata into the mill race.

143Rebecca.

Yes; for it was a life-and-death struggle between Beata and me at that time.

Rosmer.

Assuredly you were the strongest at Rosmersholm. Stronger than Beata and I together.

Rebecca.

I judged you rightly in so far that I was sure I could never reach you until you were a free man, both in circumstances—and in spirit.

Rosmer.

But I don’t understand you, Rebecca. You—yourself—your whole conduct is an insoluble riddle to me. I am free now—both in spirit and in circumstances. You have reached the very goal you aimed at from the first. And yet——

Rebecca.

I have never stood farther from my goal than now.

Rosmer.

And yet I say—when I asked you yesterday—begged you to be my wife—you cried out, as if in fear, that it could never be.

Rebecca.

I cried out in despair, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Why?

Rebecca.

Because Rosmersholm has sapped my strength. 144My old fearless will has had its wings clipped here. It is crippled! The time is past when I had courage for anything in the world. I have lost the power of action, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Tell me how this has come about.

Rebecca.

It has come about through my life with you.

Rosmer.

But how? How?

Rebecca.

When I was left alone with you here,—and when you had become yourself again——

Rosmer.

Yes, yes?

Rebecca.

——for you were never quite yourself so long as Beata lived——

Rosmer.

I am afraid you are right there.

Rebecca.

But when I found myself sharing your life here,—in quiet—in solitude,—when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve—every tender and delicate feeling, just as it came to you—then the great change came over me. Little by little, you understand. Almost imperceptibly—but at last with such overwhelming force that it reached to the depths of my soul.

145Rosmer.

Oh, is this true, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

All the rest—the horrible sense-intoxicated desire—passed far, far away from me. All the whirling passions settled down into quiet and silence. Rest descended on my soul—a stillness as on one of our northern bird-cliffs under the midnight sun.

Rosmer.

Tell me more of this. Tell me all you can.

Rebecca.

There is not much more, dear. Only this—it was love that was born in me. The great self-denying love, that is content with life, as we two have lived it together.

Rosmer.

Oh, if I had only had the faintest suspicion of all this!

Rebecca.

It is best as it is. Yesterday—when you asked me if I would be your wife—I cried out with joy——

Rosmer.

Yes, did you not, Rebecca! I thought that was the meaning of your cry.

Rebecca.

For a moment, yes. I had forgotten myself. It was my old buoyant will that was struggling to be free. But it has no energy left now—no power of endurance.

146Rosmer.

How do you account for what has happened to you?

Rebecca.

It is the Rosmer view of life—or your view of life, at any rate—that has infected my will.

Rosmer.

Infected?

Rebecca.

And made it sick. Enslaved it to laws that had no power over me before. You—life with you—has ennobled my mind——

Rosmer.

Oh that I could believe it!

Rebecca.

You may safely believe it! The Rosmer view of life ennobles. But——[Shaking her head.] But—but——

Rosmer.

But——? Well?

Rebecca.

——but it kills happiness.

Rosmer.

Do you think so, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

My happiness, at any rate.

Rosmer.

Yes, but are you so certain of that? If I were 147to ask you again now——? If I were to beg and entreat you——?

Rebecca.

Dear,—never speak of this again! It is impossible——! For you must know, Rosmer, I have a—a past behind me.

Rosmer.

More than what you have told me?

Rebecca.

Yes. Something different and something more.

Rosmer.

[With a faint smile.] Is it not strange, Rebecca? Some such idea has crossed my mind now and then.

Rebecca.

It has? And yet——? Even so——?

Rosmer.

I never believed it. I only played with it—in my thoughts, you understand.

Rebecca.

If you wish it, I will tell you all, at once.

Rosmer.

[Turning it off.] No, no! I will not hear a word. Whatever it may be—I can forget it.

Rebecca.

But I cannot.

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca——!

148Rebecca.

Yes, Rosmer—this is the terrible part of it: that now, when all life’s happiness is within my grasp—my heart is changed, and my own past cuts me off from it.

Rosmer.

Your past is dead, Rebecca. It has no hold on you any more—it is no part of you—as you are now.

Rebecca.

Oh, you know that these are only phrases, dear. And innocence? Where am I to get that from?

Rosmer.

[Sadly.] Ah,—innocence.

Rebecca.

Yes, innocence. That is the source of peace and happiness. That was the vital truth you were to implant in the coming generation of happy noble-men——

Rosmer.

Oh, don’t remind me of that. It was only an abortive dream, Rebecca—an immature idea, that I myself no longer believe in.—Ah no, we cannot be ennobled from without, Rebecca.

Rebecca.

[Softly.] Not even by tranquil love, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

[Thoughtfully.] Yes—that would be the great thing—the most glorious in life, almost—if it were so. [Moves uneasily.] But how can I be certain of that? How convince myself?

149Rebecca.

Do you not believe me, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca—how can I believe in you, fully? You who have all this while been cloaking, concealing such a multitude of things!—Now you come forward with something new. If you have a secret purpose in all this, tell me plainly what it is. Is there anything you want to gain by it? You know that I will gladly do everything I can for you.

Rebecca.

[Wringing her hands.] Oh this killing doubt——! Rosmer—Rosmer——!

Rosmer.

Yes, is it not terrible, Rebecca? But I cannot help it. I shall never be able to shake off the doubt. I can never be absolutely sure that you are mine in pure and perfect love.

Rebecca.

Is there nothing in the depths of your own heart that bears witness to the transformation in me? And tells you that it is due to you—and you alone?

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca—I no longer believe in my power of transforming any one. My faith in myself is utterly dead. I believe neither in myself nor in you.

Rebecca.

[Looks darkly at him.] Then how will you be able to live your life?

150Rosmer.

That I don’t know. I cannot imagine how. I don’t think I can live it.—And I know of nothing in the world that is worth living for.

Rebecca.

Oh, life—life will renew itself. Let us hold fast to it, Rosmer.—We shall leave it soon enough.

Rosmer.

[Springs up restlessly.] Then give me my faith again! My faith in you, Rebecca! My faith in your love! Proof! I must have proof!

Rebecca.

Proof? How can I give you proof——?

Rosmer.

You must! [Walks across the room.] I cannot bear this desolation—this horrible emptiness—this—this——

[A loud knock at the hall door.

Rebecca.

[Starts up from her chair.] Ah—did you hear that?

The door opens. Ulric Brendel enters. He has a white shirt on, a black coat and a good pair of boots, with his trousers tucked into them. Otherwise he is dressed as in the first Act. He looks excited.

Rosmer.

Ah, is it you, Mr. Brendel?

Brendel.

Johannes, my boy—hail—and farewell!

151Rosmer.

Where are you going so late?

Brendel.

Downhill.

Rosmer.

How——?

Brendel.

I am going homewards, my beloved pupil. I am home-sick for the mighty Nothingness.

Rosmer.

Something has happened to you, Mr. Brendel! What is it?

Brendel.

So you observe the transformation? Yes—well you may. When I last set foot in these halls—I stood before you as a man of substance, and slapped my breast-pocket.

Rosmer.

Indeed! I don’t quite understand——

Brendel.

But as you see me this night, I am a deposed monarch on the ash-heap that was my palace.

Rosmer.

If there is anything I can do for you——

Brendel.

You have preserved your child-like heart, Johannes. Can you grant me a loan?

Rosmer.

Yes, yes, most willingly!

152Brendel.

Can you spare me an ideal or two?

Rosmer.

What do you say?

Brendel.

One or two cast-off ideals. It would be an act of charity. For I’m cleaned out, my boy. Ruined, beggared.

Rebecca.

Have you not delivered your lecture?

Brendel.

No, seductive lady. What do you think? Just as I am standing ready to pour forth the horn of plenty, I make the painful discovery that I am bankrupt.

Rebecca.

But all your unwritten works——?

Brendel.

For five-and-twenty years I have sat like a miser on his double-locked treasure-chest. And then yesterday—when I open it and want to display the treasure—there’s none there! The teeth of time had ground it into dust. There was nix and nothing in the whole concern.

Rosmer.

But are you so sure of that?

Brendel.

There’s no room for doubt, my dear fellow. The President has convinced me of it.

153Rosmer.

The President?

Brendel.

Well well—His Excellency then. Ganz nach Belieben.

Rosmer.

Whom do you mean?

Brendel.

Peter Mortensgård, of course.

Rosmer.

What?

Brendel.

[Mysteriously.] Hush, hush, hush! Peter Mortensgård is the lord and leader of the future. Never have I stood in a more august presence. Peter Mortensgård has the secret of omnipotence. He can do whatever he will.

Rosmer.

Oh, don’t believe that.

Brendel.

Yes, my boy! For Peter Mortensgård never wills more than he can do. Peter Mortensgård is capable of living his life without ideals. And that, do you see—that is just the mighty secret of action and of victory. It is the sum of the whole world’s wisdom. Basta!

Rosmer.

[In a low voice.] Now I understand—why you leave here poorer than you came.

154Brendel.

Bien! Then take a Beispiel by your ancient teacher. Rub out all that he once imprinted on your mind. Build not thy house on shifting sand. And look ahead—and feel your way—before you build on this exquisite creature, who here lends sweetness to your life.

Rebecca.

Is it me you mean?

Brendel.

Yes, my fascinating mermaid.

Rebecca.

Why am I not to be built on?

Brendel.

[Comes a step nearer.] I gather that my former pupil has a great cause to carry forward to victory.

Rebecca.

What then——?

Brendel.

Victory is assured. But—mark me well—on one indispensable condition.

Rebecca.

Which is——?

Brendel.

[Takes her gently by the wrist.] That the woman who loves him shall gladly go out into the kitchen and hack off her tender, rosy-white little finger—here—just here at the middle joint. Item, that the aforesaid loving woman—again gladly—shall 155slice off her incomparably-moulded left ear. [Lets her go, and turns to Rosmer.] Farewell, my conquering Johannes.

Rosmer.

Are you going now? In the dark night?

Brendel.

The dark night is best. Peace be with you.

[He goes. There is a short silence in the room.

Rebecca.

[Breathes heavily.] Oh, how close and sultry it is here!

[Goes to the window, opens it, and remains standing by it.

Rosmer.

[Sits down in the arm-chair by the stove.] There is nothing else for it after all, Rebecca. I see it. You must go away.

Rebecca.

Yes, I see no choice.

Rosmer.

Let us make the most of our last hour. Come here and sit by me.

Rebecca.

[Goes and sits on the sofa.] What do you want to say to me, Rosmer?

Rosmer.

First, I want to tell you that you need not feel any anxiety about your future.

156Rebecca.

[Smiles.] H’m, my future.

Rosmer.

I have long ago arranged for everything. Whatever may happen, you are provided for.

Rebecca.

That too, my dear one?

Rosmer.

You might surely have known that.

Rebecca.

It is many a long day since I have given a thought to such things.

Rosmer.

Yes, yes—you thought things would always remain as they were between us.

Rebecca.

Yes, I thought so.

Rosmer.

So did I. But if I were to go——

Rebecca.

Oh, Rosmer—you will live longer than I.

Rosmer.

Surely my worthless life lies in my own hands.

Rebecca.

What is this? You are never thinking of——!

157Rosmer.

Do you think it would be so strange? After this pitiful, lamentable defeat! I, who was to have borne a great cause on to victory—have I not fled from the battle before it was well begun?

Rebecca.

Take up the fight again, Rosmer! Only try—and you shall see, you will conquer. You will ennoble hundreds—thousands of minds. Only try!

Rosmer.

Oh Rebecca—I, who no longer believe in my own mission!

Rebecca.

But your mission has stood the test already. You have ennobled one human being at least—me you have ennobled for the rest of my days.

Rosmer.

Oh—if I dared believe you.

Rebecca.

[Pressing her hands together.] Oh Rosmer,—do you know of nothing—nothing that could make you believe it?

Rosmer.

[Starts as if in fear.] Don’t speak of that! Keep away from that, Rebecca! Not a word more.

Rebecca.

Yes, this is precisely what we must speak about. Do you know of anything that would kill the doubt? For I know of nothing in the world.

158Rosmer.

It is well for you that you do not know.—It is well for both of us.

Rebecca.

No, no, no.—I will not be put off in this way! If you know of anything that would absolve me in your eyes, I claim as my right to be told of it.

Rosmer.

[As if impelled against his will to speak.] Then let us see. You say that a great love is in you; that through me your mind has been ennobled. Is it so? Is your reckoning just, Rebecca? Shall we try to prove the sum? Say?

Rebecca.

I am ready.

Rosmer.

At any time?

Rebecca.

Whenever you please. The sooner the better.

Rosmer.

Then let me see, Rebecca,—if you for my sake—this very evening——[Breaks off.] Oh, no, no, no!

Rebecca.

Yes, Rosmer! Yes! Tell me, and you shall see.

Rosmer.

Have you the courage—have you the will—gladly, as Ulric Brendel said—for my sake, to-night—gladly—to go the same way that Beata went?

159Rebecca.

[Rises slowly from the sofa; almost voiceless.] Rosmer——!

Rosmer.

Yes, Rebecca—that is the question that will for ever haunt me—when you are gone. Every hour in the day it will return upon me. Oh, I seem to see you before my very eyes. You are standing out on the foot-bridge—right in the middle. Now you are bending forward over the railing—drawn dizzily downwards, downwards towards the rushing water! No—you recoil. You have not the heart to do what she dared.

Rebecca.

But if I had the heart to do it? And the will to do it gladly? What then?

Rosmer.

I should have to believe you then. I should recover my faith in my mission. Faith in my power to ennoble human souls. Faith in the human soul’s power to attain nobility.

Rebecca.

[Takes up her shawl slowly, and puts it over her head; says with composure.] You shall have your faith again.

Rosmer.

Have you the will and the courage—for this,this, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

That you shall see to-morrow—or afterwards—when they find my body.

160Rosmer.

[Puts his hand to his forehead.] There is a horrible fascination in this——!

Rebecca.

For I don’t want to remain down there. Not longer than necessary. You must see that they find me.

Rosmer.

[Springs up.] But all this—is nothing but madness. Go—or stay! I will take your bare word this time too.

Rebecca.

Phrases, Rosmer! Let us have no more cowardly subterfuges, dear! How can you believe me on my bare word after this day?

Rosmer.

I shrink from seeing your defeat, Rebecca!

Rebecca.

It will be no defeat.

Rosmer.

Yes, it will. You will never bring yourself to go Beata’s way.

Rebecca.

Do you think not?

Rosmer.

Never. You are not like Beata. You are not under the dominion of a distorted view of life.

Rebecca.

But I am under the dominion of the Rosmersholm 161view of life—now. What I have sinned—it is fit that I should expiate.

Rosmer.

[Looks at her fixedly.] Is that your point of view?

Rebecca.

Yes.

Rosmer.

[With resolution.] Well then, I stand firm in our emancipated view of life, Rebecca. There is no judge over us; and therefore we must do justice upon ourselves.

Rebecca.

[Misunderstanding him.] Yes, that is true—that too. My going away will save what is best in you.

Rosmer.

Oh, there is nothing left to save in me.

Rebecca.

Yes, there is. But I—after to-day, I should only be a sea-troll dragging down the ship that is to carry you forward. I must go overboard. Why should I remain here in the world, trailing after me my own crippled life? Why brood and brood over the happiness that my past has forfeited for ever? I must give up the game, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

If you go—I go with you.

Rebecca.

[Smiles almost imperceptibly, looks at him, and says more softly.] Yes, come with me—and see——

162Rosmer.

I go with you, I say.

Rebecca.

To the foot-bridge, yes. You know you never dare go out upon it.

Rosmer.

Have you noticed that?

Rebecca.

[Sadly and brokenly.] Yes.—It was that that made my love hopeless.

Rosmer.

Rebecca,—now I lay my hand on your head—[Does so]—and I wed you as my true wife.

Rebecca.

[Takes both his hands, and bows her head towards his breast.] Thanks, Rosmer. [Lets him go.] And now I will go—gladly.

Rosmer.

Man and wife should go together.

Rebecca.

Only to the bridge, Rosmer.

Rosmer.

Out on to it too. As far as you go—so far shall I go with you. For now I dare.

Rebecca.

Are you absolutely certain—that this way is the best for you?

163Rosmer.

I am certain that it is the only way.

Rebecca.

If you were deceiving yourself? If it were only a delusion? One of those white horses of Rosmersholm.

Rosmer.

It may be so. For we can never escape from them—we of this house.

Rebecca.

Then stay, Rosmer!

Rosmer.

The husband shall go with his wife, as the wife with her husband.

Rebecca.

Yes, but first tell me this: Is it you who follow me? Or is it I who follow you?

Rosmer.

We shall never think that question out.

Rebecca.

But I should like to know.

Rosmer.

We go with each other, Rebecca—I with you, and you with me.

Rebecca.

I almost think that is the truth.

Rosmer.

For now we two are one.

164Rebecca.

Yes. We are one. Come! We go gladly.

[They go out hand in hand through the hall, and are seen to turn to the left. The door remains open.

[The room stands empty for a little while. Then the door to the right is opened by Madam Helseth.

Madam Helseth.

Miss West—the carriage is——[Looks round.] Not here? Out together at this time of night? Well—I must say——! H’m! [Goes out into the hall, looks round, and comes in again.] Not on the garden seat. Ah, well well. [Goes to the window and looks out.] Oh good God! that white thing there——! My soul! They’re both of them out on the bridge! God forgive the sinful creatures—if they’re not in each other’s arms! [Shrieks aloud.] Oh—down—both of them! Out into the mill race! Help! Help! [Her knees tremble; she holds on to the chair-back, shaking all over; she can scarcely get the words out.] No. No help here.—The dead wife has taken them.

THE END.

165