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무료Dramatic Works
Henrik Ibsen
버전 선택
장
First Act
DRAMATIC POEM IN THREE ACTS
PERSONS
Mrs. Halm, widow of a civil servant. Zwaanhilde, her daughter. Anna, her daughter. Valk, a young writer, and Lind, a theology student, lodgers of Mrs. Halm. Goudstad, wholesale merchant. Stuiver, clerk. Miss Ekster, his fiancée. Strooman, village pastor. Mrs. Strooman, his wife. Students, guests, family and engaged couples. The pastor's eight little girls. Four aunts, a housekeeper, an attendant, maids.
The play takes place at Mrs. Halm's villa on the Drammensvei near
Kristiania.
A beautiful garden, irregular but tastefully laid out. In the
background one sees the fjord with its islands. To the left of
the spectator, the main building with a veranda and above it an
open attic window. To the right in the foreground, an open arbor with
table and benches. The landscape lies in strong evening light. It is
early summer; the fruit trees are in bloom.
At the rising of the curtain, Mrs. Halm, Anna, and Miss Ekster are sitting
on the veranda, the first two with needlework, the latter with
a book. In the arbor, one sees Valk, Lind, Goudstad, and Stuiver;
on the table is a punch bowl with glasses. Zwaanhilde sits alone in
the background by the water.
(stands with raised glass and sings)
In quiet garden, sun-bright day;
Forget that autumn often cannot give
What spring promised with a lovely laugh.
Blossoming branches full of sweet scents
Spread arching over you...
So let tonight the storm tear them apart,
Scatter their spoils along fields and roads.
Why ask for ripe fruit
When all the trees are in bloom?
Why grieve, why sigh,
Toiling and slaving through life?
Why in the field on tall poles
Scarecrows with coat and hat?
Brothers, we want the birds' songs
To sound sweetly in our ears.
Why drive the birds away
From your richly blooming cherry orchard!
Let them steal for a few days...
Birds are doubly worth their singing pay.
Truly in the end you still gain by the exchange,
Get sweet songs for late fruit...
Time passes quickly, and remember
How soon summer flees again.
I want to live, enjoy and sing,
Until the last hedge is leafless;
Not like a child will I demand more,
Then clear away the remains at your leisure.
Open the gate; let the cattle graze greedily
As they desire, content and quiet;
I plucked the flowers... what can it matter to me
Who wants the dead remains!
(to the ladies)
Be a bit indulgent... it's nothing much.
(looks around)
When Valk began, she immediately fled;
Now she is gone.
(points to the background)
(sighing)
Much less rich in... yes... in poetry,
Than in the rest it is to be found.
To add a bit more at the end.
(clinks glasses with him)
Until it sticks and the wood looks marbled.
(imperturbably)
I did it like that too...
(to the ladies)
But earlier then...?
When I was in love.
I didn't think your intoxication of love was out yet!
That is surely better than being in love, I think.
Having thus been promoted, the hardest part was overcome;
Promotion from lover to beloved.
(with a complacent smile of recollection)
Whether my memory deceives me. (Turning to Valk)
Now seven years ago,... it's the truth!
I secretly wrote verses at the office.
Then I wrote whole series of verses,
Sometimes as long as... yes, two or three sheets full.
That went smoothly!
Then she trotted along...
Or not, she didn't care at all.
But tell me, how did you enter the temple?
In other words, it was Miss Ekster,
Who a while later became my fiancée;
For at that time she was...
(continuing)
I did not mend my pen, no, I had to tune it,
And when it sometimes caught on the paper,
It sounded like a melody of what I wrote;...
At last I dispatched a letter
To her... to her...
She accepted my proposal... the matter was settled!
Now you had safely secured your love!
It was as if my poetic fire was suddenly extinguished;
And if I once try now
To compose a New Year's verse or something like that,
I can't manage it with rhyme or rhythm,
And,... I don't understand what's missing,...
But it becomes office-style work, not poetry.
(clinks glasses with him)
You probably think that in the boat of happiness
Only a seat is reserved for you;
But be careful when you venture the trip.
As for your verse, I don't know
Whether it is poetic in every respect,
But however you twist or turn the words,
Your moral is not right, I tell you.
How would you call such an administration,
That lets birds freely peck the green fruit
Before it could become ripe fruit?
That lets cows and calves graze freely in the grass,
So that everything is bare when haymaking comes?
Well, it would look nice here next year!
(stands up)
That lies in that feeble word "next" is disgusting;
It makes the happiest person suddenly poor!
If I were but for an hour the fairy-tale sultan
Who freely disposes of life and death,
That word would soon be condemned to death,
Like double o and e in new spelling rules.
"The next love", "the next woman",
"The next meal" and "the next life",...
See, that caution, which lies in it,
Is what impoverishes the child of joy.
As far as you can see, the whole world becomes ugly,
It kills the highest pleasure of the moment;
You have no peace until you have steered the boat
With toiling worry to the "next" shore;
And once you are there... may you rest then?
No; you must go on to a "next" island.
Thus it continues... on and on, through life...
God knows if a resting place is given yonder.
(thoughtfully)
There must, I think, be some truth in it.
(anxiously)
He is eccentric enough... Listen, my dear,
Come here for a moment!
(busy cleaning his pipe)
(to Valk)
You could hold caution in higher esteem;
Suppose the case that you
Went poetry-writing today and used
All you have in stock of poetry,
The whole precious store... and you saw
That nothing was left of it, when you
The next morning wanted to go composing "next"...
Then Mrs. Criticism would soon catch you.
Then Mrs. Criticism and I would
Amicably stroll on arm in arm together. (Breaking off, with changed voice)
But tell me, Lind, what is actually the matter with you?
You sit there all the time so gloomy;
Or are you perhaps studying the construction of the house?
(composing himself)
You don't take your eyes off the balcony.
Is it the wide arches of the veranda
That you contemplate with such deep earnestness,
Or perhaps the intricate carving of the door,
Or of the window shutters, tell me what it is?
For something must be attracting your thoughts.
(with a radiant face)
Intoxicated by the present, I desire nothing more.
I feel as if at my feet
I saw the treasures of the whole world spread out.
Thank you for your song of joyful spring life.
It was as if taken from my own soul! (Raises his glass and
exchanges a glance with Anna, unnoticed by the others.)
Hail to the bloom, which spreads sweet scents
Not thinking of the fruit to come! (Empties his glass.)
VALK (looks at him, surprised and moved, but forces a light tone).
Listen, dear ladies, that is something new!
Here I unexpectedly made a proselyte.
Yesterday he still walked around with the hymn book,
Today he boldly beats the poet's drum...
They say a poet is born;
But sometimes one can fatten a prose writer
As mercilessly as a poor goose,
With rhyming trifles and metrical botching,
So that everything in him, liver, soul and crop,
Is stuffed with lyrical fat and crumbs
Of rhetoric, when he is disemboweled. (To Lind)
My thanks meanwhile for your friendly word;
Henceforth we shall pluck the lyre together.
The peace here among blossoming trees,
Where you can wander undisturbed and lonely...
(smiling)
You would become very busy composing. (Points to the right.)
This small arbor, so hidden behind the foliage,
Seems to me as if made for a poet;
There, I think, inspiration must come...
(goes to the veranda and leans his arms on the balustrade)
Then I will sing of the bright sky.
Provide me for the time of one month
With a sorrow, a deep, gigantic grief,
And I will sing rejoicingly of life's joy.
Or rather, just provide me with a woman
Who is my light, my sun, my God.
I have begged Our Dear Lord for that,
But He remained deaf, or pretends to be, alas.
To walk arm in arm with her in public;
No, from the wildest jubilant intoxication
She would suddenly have to return to eternity.
What spiritual gymnastics I need;
Perhaps I would get my share that way.
ZWAANHILDE (has come closer; she now stands close to Valk and says
with a jesting expression, but firmly)
Good, I will pray for such a fate for you:
But when it comes,... bear it like a man.
(has turned around in surprise)
But do you also think that I can trust
In your prayer as something of great power?
For alas, heaven does not let itself be prayed into granting.
I know that your will is sufficient for two
To rob me of my peace of mind;
But whether your faith is sufficient for that,
See, that is the question.
(half in earnest, half jesting)
Devastating life's bright, green summer,...
Wait until it gnaws and stings day and night,
Then you will know the power of my faith. (She goes to the ladies.)
(in a low tone)
Now you have seriously made Valk angry. (Continues speaking softly
and admonishingly. Miss Ekster joins the conversation. Zwaanhilde stands there cold and silent.)
VALK (after a short pensive silence, goes to the arbor and says to
himself).
There was certainty shining from her eyes.
If only I could believe as she does, so firmly,
That heaven would...
It would be, with respect, far too foolish
If such orders were carried out.
No, you know what you definitely need
Is gymnastics for arms, legs, body;
Don't lie here staring at the green foliage
The whole livelong day, rather chop wood.
And it would have to be damned unlucky,
If within a fortnight you were not
Freed from all those foolish poet's whims.
To the left flesh beckons me, to the right spirit;
What would be the wisest choice here?
(while pouring)
(looks at her watch)
We will soon see the pastor. (Stands up and tidies up a bit on the
veranda.)
For his company is doubly worth it.
And also seen that he is now active
As a member of parliament, in the field of politics.
Because afterwards he will have his hands full of work.
With Swedish issues and many other matters.
Yes, I understand that.
(offended)
I always heard with great reverence—
And from people one can believe—
About the pastor and his romance.
(laughing)
That ordinary people cannot appreciate.
(continuing)
Who let themselves be provoked by the touching
Into mockery! It is well enough known,
That someone here, he was still a student,
Was so incredibly pedantic, so terribly rude,
As to even criticize "William Russell."
A Christian drama or something perhaps?
(moved to silent tears)
But when such a thing, which has no life,
Already stirs so much wickedness and base passion
And knows how to unleash fierce and violent emotions,
So deeply and bitterly...
Understand that...
But what has not yet become clear to me
Is, what that romance consists of,
I suspect it is very moving;
But is it not possible, in brief...
From the facts.
I can tell it...
You see, sir,... he was regarded as a candidate
For one of the sharpest minds in the city,
Knew about criticism and also about new fashions...
He wrote and composed music himself
To something that... was published by a publisher;
It was called: "A Wreath of Sonnets to Her."
How deeply he sang it to the guitar!
(in a low tone)
What he knew from musty parchments,
Once said, love could make Petrarchs
Just as cattle and laziness make patriarchs.
But who was "she"?
Now long his wife, whom you will come to know.
She was a daughter of a firm that...
(continuing)
You can understand that she was much sought after;
The most prominent men courted her.
She had seen Strooman on the stage;
To see him and to love him were one...
Who would do nothing but break hearts;
And there was also a guardian, I believe,
To make the bitter suffering even bitterer;
But she remained true to him and he to her;
They dreamed of a little hut on the heath,
A snow-white lamb that would feed them both...
A hut, a cool brook, each other's hearts!
The young couple's...!
(to Miss Ekster)
Arouses doubt and confuses the story;
In reports, it comes down to
Organizing, chronologically and correctly.
But I have never been able to understand properly,
How they lived there...
(continuing)
That cow and sheep did not also live in the attic.
(to Stuiver)
One needs nothing where love dwells;
Two tender hearts live on almost nothing. (To Valk)
He loved her with string music and song
To which she responded with piano playing.
To live only for her and for his duty.
(supplementing)
(stands up)
It could be that he is on his way.
(puts on her shawl)
My woolen shawl.
(unnoticed to Anna)
(Zwaanhilde goes into the house; the others, except Valk, go
to the background or exit left. Lind, who had gone along, stops
and comes back.)
I am so happy;... it's as if my heart would burst,
If I don't tell someone...
First you are heard, then convicted, then hanged.
What kind of behavior is this? You hide
From me, your friend, the treasure you have found;...
Confess it, my suspicion is well-founded:
You drew a prize in life's lottery!
I am engaged!...
(quickly)
Today,... how I dared, I don't know myself!
I said... well, I can't tell that;
But you know... she, that beautiful young girl,
Blushed like a rose,... and was not at all angry!
Say, can you understand it, Valk, how I dared!
She listened and... cried, I even think;
That is a good sign, isn't it?
Perfectly for sure, then ask Miss Ekster.
Does not deceive me, I am calm, without fear.
(Radiant and mysterious).
When she took the coffee cups from the table!
(raises his glass and empties it)
(does likewise)
That I will love her until my death,
As warmly as now... for oh, she is so sweet!
Were with neither Moses nor the prophets today.
(laughing)
(seriously)
I have already shaken off the theologian.
The only difference is that I do not use the Bible
As Jacob's ladder to my God.
Now I must seek Him in life itself;
I already feel more goodness in my heart,
I love the blade of grass, the worm at my foot;
They, too, must have their share of happiness.
My sweet secret remains sacred to us three.
I live entirely in spring-joyful delight.
I fix my eye on our happiness close at hand:
There we hold the reins of fate.
Neither you, nor Goudstad,... nor even Mrs. Halm
Can say to my fresh flower: "Wilt!"
For I have willpower, radiance shines from her eyes.
And therefore she must and shall rise upward!
Oh, I feel so strong! If there were an abyss
Before me... however yawning... I would dare a leap!
Your love almost makes you a reindeer.
Then I know where my longing draws me!
You must go into the mountains with the quartet?
But I bet you won't need a fur coat...
I breathe mountain air now in the deep valley;
Here I have flowers and the wide fjord,
Here I have rustling leaves, bird songs,
And my fairy of happiness... she is here!
Hold on to her!... They are only too rare. (With a glance at
the house.)
Shh,... Zwaanhild...
(presses his hand)
What must remain between you and me and her.
Thank you for listening to my secret.
Bury it in your heart, keep it safe there...
(exits to the background to the others).
few times, visibly struggling with his emotions. Shortly after,
Zwaanhilde comes out of the house with a shawl over her arm; she is about
to go to the background; Valk approaches her and looks at her intently.
Zwaanhilde stops.)
(after a short pause)
(half to himself)
Deep in those eyes glides a fleeting shadow,
Which lurks around the mouth full of mockery.
It is there.
Do me the favor... throw it overboard!
Why did you get
Such a memento mori even when you were little?
But far too grand, too severe for our times.
How can a girl of our days now
Understand what the name Zwaanhilde implies?
No, throw it away, like an outgrown garment.
No, high in the saddle! In my quiet dreams
I rode, carried on a fiery steed,
Often far away, into the world with courage,
Its mane waving around me like a flag of freedom!
None of us knows boundary or limit,
Then no one fears using the spurs;...
When it comes to deeds, we stay sweetly down here;
For everyone dearly loves life,
And no one wants to risk a leap to death.
(animatedly)
But then the goal must be worth the leap to death.
A California after sandy deserts,...
If not, it's better to stay home.
(mockingly)
(warmly)
Launch the boat and hoist the sails?
(ironically)
When he who has the courage to go out into the world
And ride high in the saddle, boldly forging ahead,
Is not rewarded with a golden prize?
Such a journey, without purpose, is for the nobility,
But our time laughs at what is noble;
That's what I wanted to say, isn't it?
Look at that pear tree standing there,...
How withered and blossomless it is this year.
Last year, you should have seen it,
The whole tree bent under its burden of fruit.
(a bit uncertain)
(archly)
Of our time, it is too much to expect to harvest pears
Where last year the tree bore too many flowers and fruits.
In old romantic histories.
Who still rises and fights for truth,
Who risks his skin and his personality?
Where does one find heroes?
(looks sharply at her)
(shakes head)
When the faith was recently threatened in Syria,
Did you then go there as a defender?
No, on paper you took the matter to heart.
And for the good cause you sent some money.
(Pause. Valk seems to want to answer, but restrains himself and goes into the garden).
(looks at him for a moment, then approaches and asks softly)
And nothing else.
(pensively and sympathetically)
Completely different...
(passionately)
(exploding)
To display my naked soul to everyone... like the profane masses,
Who parade their love on the street...
Like young women with their bare arms!
You were the only one,... you, Swanhild, you...
That I thought... but that too is over now...
(turns to her as she goes to the arbor and looks out).
Hush! Do you hear?... speaks as the sun goes down.
A little bird, look, hides there
In the foliage,... there it comes out again...
And do you know what I firmly believe? She who
Was given no poet's soul, no singing voice,
Was given by God a little bird as a friend...
Created only for her and her garden.
(picks up a stone from the ground)
Lest his song be lost to a stranger.
I was not given the gift of speech nor a singing voice;
There my little bird warbles in its green retreat,
There I feel songs descending into my soul...
Well yes... they do not stay... they fly away...
(Valk angrily throws the stone; Swanhild utters a cry).
(runs to the right and returns immediately).
(passionately excited)
And tooth for tooth, Swanhild, that was all!
Now you will get no more greetings from on high,
No more gifts from the land of songs.
That is my revenge now for what you did!
A bold and strong bird sang in my breast.
Now the death knell can toll for both of them,...
You killed him!
My faith, so young, so joyful and triumphant...! (contemptuously).
When you got engaged!
He takes exams, will soon be called,...
He wants to go to America...
(in the same tone)
For you must mean Lind, of course?
You would know...
(with suppressed laughter)
That comes in handy...
Such immense happiness? Oh no, alas!
(almost childishly happy)
Oh, Our Lord is good and merciful!
I will not see you arm in arm with another...
He only wanted to light the lamp of sorrow...
(wants to take her hand).
(points quickly to the background)
(She goes to the house. At that moment, Mrs. Halm, Anna, Miss Ekster, Goudstad, Stuiver, and Lind approach from the background. During the preceding, the sun has set; the landscape lies in twilight).
(to Swanhild)
Where were you?
(with a glance at Valk)
Now put on the tea and tidy the room;
It must be perfect; I know the lady.
(Swanhild goes into the house).
(to Valk)
That I keep verses hidden in my writing case?
It's urgent, now that it comes to marriage.
The cares of love are not easily counted!
With bonds, loss of freedom, and slave life.
(seeing that Miss Ekster approaches)
Lies in a woman's word and in her spirit.
(softly)
(grumpily)
(muffled to Valk as he approaches with Anna)
Tell everyone at once...
And not telling the uninitiated
What only concerns you...
For you, my friend, also a guest in this house,
I should hide my young happiness!
No, now that my head is ablaze with joy...
Yes, good dear friend, if that is your opinion,
Then go ahead and tell your engagement!
And one of them seems to me of some weight;
Suppose that among us there might be
A silent admirer, creeping around her;
Suppose he suddenly came with marriage plans
And proposed for her hand... how embarrassing that would be...!
That you feel destined for something higher.
From the free priest of love that you are now,
Sooner or later you must be promoted;
But it is even against all forms
To present yourself now as a high-priest.
(embarrassed)
My new happiness and me, wherever he can.
That fellow comes here daily, after all,
Is rich and single, always around;
In short, my dearest, there is still so much
That can only bode ill for us.
(with a sigh)
(sympathetically to Lind)
Wait a bit... don't expose yourself needlessly.
(She and Lind exit, each to a different side)
(looks after Lind)
GOUDSTAD (who has been standing by the steps in conversation with Mrs. Halm and Miss Ekster, now approaches and taps him on the shoulder).
Well, are you standing here brooding over a song?
I didn't think you were into that too.
A friend of mine, yes, of both of us;...
A writer of particular skill,
For between noon and evening
He has already finished a whole idyll.
(craftily)
## You know well that the curtain only falls when they get each other. But that is only one of his three pieces: Next come the writer's woes, As number two, the farce of the engagement, Treated through five acts. And from this he spins new material For the marriage drama, which is the third
(smiling)
As I too am walking around brooding over a poem,...
(mysteriously).
But the heroine then? She surely lives in the country,
In the open air, not in a stuffy city?
(wags a finger)
(changes tone).
My judgment can mean neither ill nor good...
(smiling).
With that poem you told me about.
Suppose I abuse your trust
And ruin the outcome and the plot.
(amiably)
And it would be absurd to spurn your help
By someone who, like me, is only a dilettante (goes to the background).
(to Lind as he passes)
With murderous plans against your happiness, hear? (withdraws).
(softly to Anna)
We really must speak to your mother at once.
(They go to Mrs. Halm, who is standing with Miss Ekster by the house).
(talking with Stuiver)
If only there's the right mood...
(jokingly)
With your love, perhaps?
(who has joined them)
Of any spark of poetry, fortunately.
(offended)
Or myself have to do with poetry.
Knows its own nature, then it must die.
(to Stuiver)
Then just say so.
Thinking how I could tell you the matter,
But I couldn't come to a good decision.
Since you were promoted to an "intended,"
You feel oppressed and more and more oppressed...
(continuing)
That drove you to hell, if you could;
That's the matter.
I have extended, as an honest man. (to Goudstad).
But it gets worse every month.
And one does take a wife when one marries...
(cheerfully)
This was an echo from your poet days!
That's how it should be; I understood it at once;
You needed a pair of wings and a pair of scissors!
Loose again, so you could fly out
Again free and bold...
(angry)
That I am accused of such a crime
Against authority, that I would just sneak away?
Such a thing is a stain on my honor
And slanderous talk!
What do you want to say then? Speak... speak!
(laughing to Stuiver)
What did you want then?
(calms down again)
(quickly to Goudstad)
For about a hundred thalers or so.
(who has been standing with Mrs. Halm, Lind, and Anna)
(throws his arms around his neck exuberantly)
That Amor has brought you a little brother.
(pulls him along to the others).
(overwhelmed to the gentlemen)
They are engaged!
(with tears of emotion, while the couple is congratulated)
Who leaves this house well cared for and happy;... (turning to Valk).
Seven nieces... all with guests... (her emotion overcomes her; she holds her handkerchief to her eyes).
(to Anna)
(caresses her, very moved).
(grasps Valk's hands)
Of the spiritual temperance society;
You know the commandment:... no revelries here!
(turns to Goudstad with somewhat malicious sympathy).
(pleased)
That this happiness promises well for both of them.
(looks at him in wonder)
That pleases me.
A sweet hope...
You mentioned Miss Halm; you stood there
And asked me...
(smiling)
First get to know that sister a little better,
And judge for yourself whether she does not deserve
That more work be done with her
Than is usually done in this house.
(coolly)
She cannot grasp; she falls short there...
For one winter, I bet she will be inferior to none.
(cheerfully)
They sprout unnoticed in frost and snow.
(comes to them and grasps Valk's hands)
I feel so happy and so calm!
How one acts as a newly engaged lover!
(unpleasantly affected)
(jokingly)
(looks after him)
Forgive me, you suffered for someone else!
There's something in it about someone whose fate
Pulled his good, healthy eyetooth
Because a nephew of his suffered from toothache.
(looks out the window)
(Meanwhile, a carriage is heard stopping to the left outside. The pastor, his wife, and eight little girls, all in traveling clothes, enter one by one).
(rushes to meet the newcomers)
You come just in time, for just think,
My daughter Anna has just become engaged.
(shakes Anna's hand with unction)
That is a treasure that neither moth nor rust
Can corrupt... if it is genuine, that is.
Into town.
Who stayed behind in the country.
What it is to miss a loving father's heart
For the sake of the kingdom.
(to Mrs. Halm as she takes leave)
At Jensen's, I know, they go to bed late;
The aunts will be happy, that goes without saying.
My dear Anna, don't be shy any longer...
For tomorrow is Sunday; with visits
You will be flooded, you can count on that!
And you would surely like
A cup of tea? Madam, be so kind!
(Mrs. Halm, Strooman, his wife and children, with Goudstad, Lind, and Anna go into the house).
(taking Stuiver's arm)
How Luna rests floating among the clouds!
But no, you don't even look!
I was just thinking about our debit.
(They exit to the left. Valk, who during the preceding has been watching Strooman and his wife intently, remains alone in the garden. It is now completely dark; lights are on in the house).
Thus they go through life, two by two,
Together they stand like the black trunks
That a forest fire left on the barren heath;...
As far as the eye can see, it is bare plain...
Oh, won't anyone bring the fresh green of life!
(Swanhild comes onto the veranda with a blooming rose bush which she places on the balustrade).
That one... yes...!
But tell me, aren't you afraid in there,
Where the lamplight falls on the pale corpses...
(looks at Strooman, who appears at the window)
Fought for his love against the whole world,
Took the field against custom and usage.
His love he expressed in joyful songs...!
Look at him now! In a long coat... his best...
The walking drama of his deep fall!
And then that woman, with her faded dress,
With worn-out shoes, loose and flapping,
She is the fairy who was to lead him into the great world
To a life of beauty.
What remains of that flame? Not even the smoke!
Sic transit gloria Amoris, you see!
I don't know a person whose fate I would want to share.
(quickly)
That is contrary to nature, false!
(shakes head)
As surely as we stand here on the ground.
We no longer want to be members
Of the community of flat commonplace!
To develop independently, truly and freely
Must surely be the goal of a serious person.
You have seen that as well as I.
There beats a life of soul in your pulse
That finds warm words for powerful thought.
You do not tolerate the corset of formality
Squeezed around the heart that wants to beat freely and spaciously;
Your voice is not suited to sing along
In the choir of habit, to the measure of custom.
Has darkened my eye, oppressed my breast?
I wanted to make my own way...
Then came aunts with their good advice,...
They had to deliberate, weigh, consider... (closer).
But in thought, you say; no, I ventured
A bold attempt even... I went to learn painting.
But still my urge for freedom would not be bound;
And afterwards I sought the boards of the theatre...
She would rather see me go as a governess...
They were afraid it would be bad for my future
If young gentlemen found out.
(looks at her sympathetically for a moment)
I saw at once when I first met you,
How little you resembled the others,
And how no one really understood you.
Around the table they all sat,
With cups of tea,... and the conversations hummed,
The ladies blushed and the gentlemen cooed
Like tame doves on a summer day.
And about religion, even morality,
Girls and matrons chattered,
And domesticity was celebrated by young women,
While you sat alone, as if completely isolated.
And when the babble finally rose
To a frenzy, a tea-and-prose bacchanal,...
Then you shone like silver, a noble coin,
As if lost among copper and paper.
You were a gold piece from a distant land
That was valued here at a different rate,
And barely current in light conversation,
Where verses, butter, art and the like
Were treated... just then Miss Ekster spoke...
(quasi-seriously)
His hat in his arms like a shield, stood there...
"Come, Swanhild, do drink, your tea is getting cold."
And sweetly you drank your tea, the weak, insipid,
As they all, young and old, did.
But at once that name struck and seized me;
The wild Völsung saga, gruesome, cruel,
With all its long line of slain knights,
Seemed to reach into our time to me then;
I saw in you a second Swanhild,
Renewed and in a different form.
The flag of lies had to cover the right to war
In former times, now the people themselves demand justice and peace;
But if someone sins against our customs,
Then he must atone innocently for his lineage.
(slightly ironic)
Such bloody fantasizing could arise;
But for you it is a small art
Where wit is lacking, still to see spirits rise.
(moved)
With tears in your voice,... oh I see it well.
And more I see;... if you are trampled in the dust,
Your own free being kneaded like clay,
Then many a bungler will soon come
With the modeling knife, clumsy and stupid and rough.
They will ape God's creation
To reshape you in their own image,
Changed, padded, diminished, unrecognizable.
And when you can be displayed like that,
Then they exult: "Look, now she is normal!
Look at that plastic repose, cool as marble!
Illuminated by the light of lamps and chandeliers,
She is as if created for salon décor!"
(seizes her hand passionately).
First be mine free in God's nature;
Soon enough you will come into a gilded cage;
There the lady thrives, but the woman languishes,
And it is her alone I love. Another may
Then one day lead you into his house;
But here, here my spring has blossomed,...
My first song sprang here from my soul.
Here I got wings;... here, if you support me,
I know it, Swanhild,... here, here I become a poet!
Oh why do you tell me all that now?
It was so beautiful to meet each other freely.
Is it then so necessary to support happiness
With words of promise, so that it does not break!
You have spoken and now it is over.
My proud Swanhild,... if you dare to leap.
Be brave, if you have the courage to be free!
To do what our innermost being drives us to do;
And I know that you are appointed by God
To prevent my fall from beauty.
I must, like my namesake the bird,
Head into the wind, into the air, if I am to rise.
You are the breeze on which I let myself be rocked,
With you I first get lift in my wings.
Oh be mine, before you get the world,...
And when the leaves fall, then our paths will part.
Sing your soul's treasures into my soul,
And song for song I will richly return them...
Then you can go under, calmly, quietly,
Like leaves withering, without pain or complaint.
(with suppressed bitterness)
Although it clearly shows your disposition.
For you regard me like a child the willow
That it calmly cuts into a one-day whistle.
(after a pause)
As to break a living branch, because my thoughts
Go in and out of the woods in winter,
And the echo of storms hurries past my ear.
But in the summer, when the sun warms the trunk,
Then I can hear the life singing in the wood.
Then I tread carefully on the mossy ground,
And if a leaf falls, it is with my permission.
But now my winter is over; I feel
A new springtime rising in my breast.
And do you know what I ask of you, Swanhild?
(looking at him expectantly)
Until the leaves fall. Then we shall see.
If you are then still what you are now,
And I am what I am,... then perhaps,... I cannot say more.
But if you are bound, then I am bound too.
Now you know my condition. Answer me!
(shakes her head slowly)
You must not ask that of me. It is not right.
(after a short silence)
According to your poems.
(goes toward the house, but turns back)
(stands a moment, then goes slowly into the house. Valk remains alone).
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
Now, that's better than standing in the water
Until autumn shrouds it in grey mist. (vehemently).
You must! You shall! Yes more, it is your duty
To grant me what you so richly received.
What you dream there becomes a song in me!
See the bird I killed... foolish...
That was for you a source of song's delight...
Oh, do not refuse; sing for me as it did...
My life becomes for you one poem!
::
::dialogue speaker="ZWAANHILDE"
And when you then know me and I am empty,
When I have sung my last song...
What then?
::
::stage
(looks at her)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
What then? Think then of what he did. (points into the garden).
::
::stage
(softly)
::
::dialogue speaker="ZWAANHILDE"
Oh yes, I know, you can throw stones.
::
::stage
(laughs mockingly)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
See there that freedom-spirit you boast of...
That would dare everything for a visible goal! (with force).
I showed you the goal; now give an answer that
Will satisfy me forever.
::
::dialogue speaker="ZWAANHILDE"
That you already know:
On that path I can never approach you.
::
::stage
(coldly dismissive)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
Well then it's over; stay in your world then.
ZWAANHILDE (has silently turned away from him. She places her hands on the balustrade and rests her head on them).
VALK (paces back and forth a few times, lights a cigar, stops close to her and says after a pause):
You surely find it extremely ridiculous
What I have told you this evening? (pauses, waiting for an answer; Zwaanhilde is silent).
I went too far, I see that well;
You feel only as a sister or a daughter;...
I'll speak with gloves on from now on
Then we will best understand each other... (waits a moment; but as Zwaanhilde remains motionless, he turns and goes to the right).
ZWAANHILDE (lifts her head after a silence, looks intently at him and comes closer).
Now I want to say a serious word to you
In thanks for having wanted to save me.
You used an image that suddenly helped me understand your "ascent."
I saw you as a falcon, who must rise
Head into the wind; to reach the heights.
I was the zephyr that carried you upward,...
And without me your striving was powerless...
How pitiful! How unspeakably small!...
Laughable even, as you yourself realized.
Yet your image did not fall on barren ground;
For before my eye another arose,
That does not, like the first, limp and hobble.
I saw you, not as a falcon, but as a kite,
As a poet's kite, made of paper,
Whose own self is and remains a side issue,
While the towline is the main thing.
The broad front was written, dense,
With future drafts on poetic gold;
And each wing a bundle of epigrams,
That flapped in the wind, but hit no one;
The long tail was a modern poem
That wanted to scourge the faults of our time,
But could only softly whisper
Of someone or other who neglected his duty.
So you lay powerless before me, and you asked:
"Oh, set me up in the west or the east!
Oh, drive me with my songs into the air,
Even if it costs you your mother's anger!"
::
::stage
(clasps her hands together in violent emotion)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
By God, that's all true...!
::
::dialogue speaker="ZWAANHILDE"
No, thank you,
I am too big for that kind of child's play;
But you, born for high spiritual work,...
You,... are content to fly to the clouds,
And bind your poet's life to a thread,
Which I, when I wish, can let slip.
::
::stage
(quickly)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
What day is it today?"
::
::stage
(softer)
::
::dialogue speaker="ZWAANHILDE"
Look, that's fine;
Let this day be a date for you;
From now on trust your own wingbeat,
And let it then bend or break.
Paper songs belong in the folder,
The living ones are property of life;
And only those are current on the heights.
So choose which of the two you want. (closer to him).
Now I did what you asked me earlier:
I sang my last song from the depths of my heart;
And it was my only one; now I am empty;
If you want, throw a stone at me!
(She goes into the house; Valk remains motionless and watches her; far away on the water a boat is seen; from it is heard in the distance and muffled the following:)
::
::dialogue speaker="CHOIR"
Hoisted the sails, in gliding undulation
Like an eagle soared over world sea-level;
And behind us remain the flocks of stormbirds.
Reason is only ballast... overboard with it at once!
Perhaps my little boat will soon run aground,
But it is still so glorious to sail!
::
::stage
(absent-mindedly... awakens from his thoughts)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
Singing? Oh yes,... it's certainly Lind's quartet.
(to Goudstad, who comes out with a light overcoat over his arm).
Well, Mr. Goudstad,... are you sneaking away so quietly?
::
::dialogue speaker="GOUDSTAD"
Yes. Let me first put on my coat;
We non-poets don't like drafts;
We catch cold from the evening air.
Goodnight!
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
Oh, before you go a single word!
Point me to something to do, but preferably something great...!
Something that makes an impact...!
::
::stage
(with mocking emphasis)
::
::dialogue speaker="GOUDSTAD"
... Well, just reach into life
Then you will see, you will grasp life well.
::
::stage
(looks at him thoughtfully and says slowly)
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
There in short is the program given. (lively)
Now I am awake from my empty dreaming,
Now I have thrown the dice of life,
And you will see... the devil take me...
::
::dialogue speaker="GOUDSTAD"
Hey!
Don't swear; you won't scare off a fly with that.
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
No, not words, but deeds, only deeds!
I now turn the Creator's work plan upside down;...
Six long days I did nothing but yawn;
My world-building work still lies unbuilt;...
But tomorrow, Sunday—then I will create!
::
::stage
(laughing)
::
::dialogue speaker="GOUDSTAD"
Yes, let's see how vigorously you tackle it then;
But first go get some sleep; good night!
(exits left. Zwaanhilde becomes visible in the room above the veranda; she closes the window and lowers the curtain).
::
::dialogue speaker="VALK"
No, deeds now! Too long have I slept. (looks up at Zwaanhilde's window and bursts out as if seized by great emotion).
Goodnight! Goodnight! Sleep well and dream tonight;
And tomorrow, Zwaanhild, we two will be engaged. (goes quickly away to the right; from the water is heard again):
::
::dialogue speaker="CHOIR"
Perhaps my little boat will soon run aground,
But it is still so glorious to sail!
::
::stage
(The boat glides slowly away while the curtain falls).
::
END OF THE FIRST ACT
Second Act
Sunday afternoon. Finely dressed ladies and gentlemen are drinking coffee on the veranda. Through the open glass doors, several guests are visible inside the garden room; from there the following is heard:
Openly you may now be in love,
Embrace each other, blow upon blow,
Kiss as much as you like... it's allowed!...
No eavesdropper need you fear.
Now you can dote to your heart's content,
Everywhere together, outside and in.
Now you can nurture your love in peace,
Let it grow and rest in calm;
Show now how you can love!
(in the room)
How I would have teased you!
(also there)
(in the doorway)
(on the veranda)
(bustling)
She will do that herself.
(on the veranda to a lady with needlework)
(in the doorway with a tray)
Just when you go visiting.
(in the room by the window)
(to some ladies on the veranda)
(with raised voices)
(jumping up similarly)
(appears red and embarrassed in the doorway)
STUIVER (in the doorway, with a cup of coffee in one hand and a rusk in the other).
No, one must not distort the facts like that,
I attest that one is mistaken here.
(inside, without being seen)
(calling)
(All go into the room; laughter and loud talk are heard from within for a while).
VALK (who has been walking around in the garden during the previous scene, now comes forward, stops and looks inside, until the activity has calmed down a bit).
There they slaughter love's poetry...
The butcher who slaughters a cow so clumsily
That it suffers unnecessary pain in dying,
Is locked up for ten days or so; but here...
That whole brood of torturers goes free again. (clenches his fists).
I could them... quiet, no empty words;
From today I will act, I have sworn.
(comes hurriedly and cautiously out of the door)
Now I can get away for a bit...
Been swarming around you like mosquitoes all day here.
But I could do with a bit less.
Their interest is a bit too exhausting;
A moment's rest will revive me. (about to go right).
Knock if you find the door locked.
We talked last night until after midnight;
And we have already discussed the most important things;
And besides, I think it is best
To be somewhat sparing with one's happiness.
For everyday use...
Now I am going to enjoy a good pipe;
I haven't done that in three days.
My blood was so restless;
I was so afraid she would refuse me...
(to Valk)
After he has worn the signboard for a week.
Of the garden house, where we both are staying. (pleadingly).
Oh, do let him catch his breath for a moment;
Don't chase him away from there!
Must not last long.
Then you can start the game anew.
Now he wants to write a sermon in English.
To pursue a possible calling among the emigrants...
(horrified)
(to the ladies) Call all the aunts!
Fetch Anna and her mother, Strooman too!
(in commotion)
Do you know what Lind
Has firmly resolved, in his heart, secretly?
To become a minister...
(indignant)
(clasp their hands)
One follows that when one is free and not engaged;
But an engaged man follows only his bride...
No, dear Anna, think it over in time;
You, who from childhood in a big city...?
Such a thing, I think, is very curious. (to the ladies).
Come, everyone now! (she takes Anna by the arm).
Wait, now you must hear;...
And then you tell him what he must do now.
(They go to the background and exit right, talking eagerly together, with several ladies; the other guests disperse in various groups through the garden. Valk stops Strooman, whose wife and children are always near him. Goudstad paces back and forth during the following conversation).
Before Anna is set against him.
(solemnly)
But if I understood him correctly this afternoon,
That calling rests on a shaky foundation,
And the sacrifice offered is uncertain...
I can vouch with my own self
That he feels his calling great and honest...
(more lively)
An annual salary,... yes, then it is a different matter.
(impatiently)
I speak of calling, drive... not of salary!
(with a sentimental smile)
America, Europe, or Asia,...
Or anywhere else. Yes, if he were still free,
My dear young friend,... if he were alone,
Still a bachelor,... yes, then it would be fine;
But Lind, who is just engaged,... no, for him
Such a sphere of work is surely not advisable.
Just think; he is a strong man,
And in time he will have a family;...
I assume he has much good will;...
But "means," you know...? "Build not on sand"
So it is written. It would be somewhat different,
If the sacrifice now...
I know that well.
If the sacrifice that one voluntarily wishes to bring,
Is also generous...
It is placed on the altar for him, after all.
He does not have to bring it...
(looks toward the background)
VALK (stares at him a moment in amazement, then suddenly understands and bursts out laughing).
Oh, that sacrifice... yes!... that which they bring you
On feast days... rustling banknotes!
That is compensated by Christmas and Pentecost.
(cheerfully)
Even if you are a stupid, lazy lout!
One may even go as a Zulu missionary. (muffled).
Now I hope to win her over gently. (to one of the little girls).
My dear child, oh fetch my pipe for a moment,
My pipe, I mean, you understand... (feels in his coat pocket).
No, wait a moment;... I have it with me.
(continues, filling his pipe, followed by wife and children).
(approaches)
Of love here... or I am much mistaken?
They tempt no one... (to Lind, who comes from the right). So, you're already here?
Up there, I say: the lamp is in pieces,
The curtain pulled down, your pen broken,
And the whole stove plate splattered with ink...
(pats him on the shoulder)
I sat behind the curtains far too long
And wrote poetry on paper by lamplight;
Now it's over with room poetry;...
I prefer to walk in God's sunshine now;...
My spring came, with it my soul's renewal;
And henceforth I will only compose in deeds.
That the lady here is pleased
With the loss... especially of her curtains.
Even sisters' children, daughters... would she
Make a sour face over such a trifle!
(angry)
And very compromising for both of us!
But settle that with her. However, the little lamp was
My property, with everything belonging to it...
You have God's summer with its clear light,...
What use is a lamp then?
Forgetting how short the summer still is.
If I want to go for my exam at Christmas
I really must make the most of my time.
(wide-eyed)
It seems to me such an exam is no joke...
Drunk on the present, you had no desires,...
Even a mediocre "haud" didn't appeal to you;...
You caught the beautiful bird of happiness;
You felt as if at your feet
Lay spread the riches of the whole world...
Cum grano salis...
That I have firmly decided.
That will take a lot of time.
But to take away even more free time,
That I must unfortunately deny myself.
Wanted to go out into the wide world with song.
I can't spare those fourteen days.
You said something about mountain air also blowing in the valley
And birds singing there.
One can enjoy it, even if one
Sits regularly studying with one's book.
As Jacob's ladder...
One says that when one is free and alone...
(looks at him and clasps his hands in mute amazement)
(a bit embarrassed and irritated)
That I now have other duties than you;
I have my girl now. Look at the other
Engaged couples, even people with long experience,
Whom I hope you won't find fault with,
They all say, when two go through life together,
Then...
Who gave it to you?
And he is a man who cannot lie.
And Miss Ekster, she is so knowledgeable,
She says...
They are sunk in a peace of mind...
Just think, she no longer remembers her engagement,
Has completely forgotten what it is to love.
Then memory flees like a shy bird, (places hands on his shoulders and looks at him mockingly).
Say, my boy, did you sleep well last night?
And at the same time so full of emotions;
I was almost afraid I had gone mad.
(During the preceding, Strooman has occasionally been seen walking in the background, talking earnestly with Anna; Mrs. Strooman and the children follow them. Miss Ekster now appears; along with her, Mrs. Halm with some other ladies).
(invisible)
(to Valk)
Oh please, come with me!
Let us quickly resolve the disagreement
That has arisen between you and Anna.
(points to Anna, who is standing further away in the garden)
In her tearful eyes. It is about the plans
Over there in America.
She herself wanted...
(mockingly)
No, my friend, you will think differently about it
When we examine the matter more calmly.
My most beautiful and dearest dream!
Look, Stuiver dreamed the other day that
A letter arrived with such strange corners...
(with a nod)
(The ladies form a circle around Lind and walk with him deeper into the garden, talking).
On these grounds, then, my dear child,
On these grounds, which reason gives us,
Moral teaching, partly also the Bible,
You see that such a division
Of opinion has no reason to exist.
(half crying)
All sorts of complications and dangers;
But do not let doubt catch you in its net,...
Be brave, take example from me and Maren!
That I was just as sad as you are now,
When the call came...
She had to leave all the city pleasures;
But when we later had a bit more room,
And the first pair of twins was born to us,
Then it passed.
(softly to Strooman)
Go on like that!
Man must not be afraid. Valk,
That such a calling is also not unprofitable,
You said that, didn't you?
Well, it will certainly bring you something.
And if that is so, why fear?
Look back to long-gone days!
To Adam, Eve, Noah with his animals...
The lilies of the field... the birds of the air...
The little birds... the little birds... the fish... (continues in a muffled voice, moving away with Anna).
(as Miss Ekster and the aunts arrive with Lind)
The whole old guard in arms!
We have him!... now quickly with him to her. (goes to Anna).
(with a defensive gesture)
Let the Holy Spirit do His own work
Then it is accomplished...! (modestly). And if I have done something,
I received strength...!
Reconciliation, eh?
(moved)
That would not find such a scene moving?
It works so sharpening, so stimulating to the soul.
It is so uplifting to see such a child,
Still immature, making a sacrifice, sad,
Yet willing, on the altar of duty.
You, Lind, possess the key to her heart;
But we, friends, still have a master key
That opens where the key sometimes fails;... (presses his hand).
And if needed in later time,
Come to us,... we remain friends.
A moment so joyful, and yet so sorrowful! (turns to Lind).
But my young friend, let the matter be settled now. (leads Anna to him).
Take her... your bride... your bride... take her... and kiss her then!
(reaches out his hand to Anna)
(at the same time)
(astonished)
(likewise)
(looking helplessly at the bystanders)
(bustling)
Misunderstanding... that is certain.
She has promised!
(laughing)
(to each other)
(to Goudstad and Stuiver, who have been walking in the garden and now approach)
(to Miss Ekster as she sees that the tea table is set)
(curtly)
Friendship, tea, love and the aunts!
It can certainly take a cheerful conclusion.
The case thus rests on a paragraph
Where it says: to follow the man is the woman's duty.
That is clear to everyone.
Just postpone your trip and stay here quietly.
(happily)
(Meanwhile, Zwaanhilde and the maids have set the tea table at the foot of the veranda steps. Invited by Mrs. Halm, all the ladies sit around the table. The rest of the company sit partly on the veranda or in the arbor, partly in the garden. Valk sits on the veranda. During the following, tea is drunk).
Like summer rain, afterward beneficial;
Then the sun shines even more beautifully, and promises us
A summer afternoon clear and cloudless.
Those showers, large and small, they keep it fresh.
In that it resembles a fish...
Love is a flower; if its gentle rain is lacking,
So that the lovely one would wither... (pauses).
(with a gallant bow)
But that simile, although it has been
Used, endlessly repeated by poets,
Is still not very clear to most;
For there are flowers of so many kinds.
Tell me, what little flower would love be?
Name what most resembles it.
It gives life a rosy glow.
For when it emerges, spring begins.
When trampled by man or horse,
Yes, puts out new shoots when trodden down,
That is how Pietersen so beautifully described it.
Ushers in the Pentecost of life's youth.
Is as green as in the heart of June.
Suffering from weak lungs.
As firewood, but the fruit is inedible.
Adorns the headdress of the ladies there.
Wait... was it not gray... no violet;...
What is it called now...? Let me see... it looked much like that one...;
I am so forgetful, it is so strange.
It reminds me more of a flowerpot;
At first there is barely room for one,
But later it can hold quite a few sprouts.
(in the midst of his brood)
In early spring white with blossom snow;
Later the blossom sets into fruit
And becomes many large green berries;
Fed by the old trunk with life sap,
They become, God willing, ripe pears.
But you all wander on wrong paths.
No image is fitting; now listen to mine;...
You can twist and turn it as you like, (stands up in orator's pose).
In the distant East grows a precious herb;
The "Son of Heaven" plants it in his gardens...
Far away, beyond barren sand deserts;...
Fill up my cup, Lind! Thank you. I shall now drink
To tea and love, and toast to them.
(the guests draw closer together).
It originally comes from fairyland;
Oh, that's where love belongs too!
Only the Son of the Sun knew, they say,
How to cultivate the plant, tending it with care.
And with love it is the same;
A drop of sun-blood must be in us,
For love to take root within us
And grow, bloom, bear leaves and blossoms.
So tea must have been known for a long time...
As a little boy sat looking at pictures...
(triumphantly)
Your image does not apply there, you feel it yourself.
That is a doctrine we all subscribe to.
In Cape Town and Rio and Kamchatka,
From Naples to the good town of Brevig,
Many will claim that love is eternal;
Now, that may be somewhat exaggerated,...
But it is old... that cannot be denied.
And tea exists in varieties, good and bad.
(who has meanwhile come down from the veranda)
A secret little heavenly kingdom.
There thousands of such shoots sprout,
Enclosed by modesty, like by the Chinese wall.
But all the dolls of your fantasies,
Who sit in the shadows of the kiosks
And pine away dreaming... veils around their loins,
And golden tulip flowers in their hands...
For them you pluck the first green buds;
What autumn later found was all the same to you.
Look, that's why we get dust and stems,...
A after-gathering, standing like flax to silk,...
A harvest scraped with difficulty from the bush...
(nodding)
(curtly)
It makes us foolish... only in novels.
Of her slipper kingdom one sometimes finds traces
Veiled under conjugal curtains.
In short, there is a resemblance, where you least
Expect it. So says the old proverb
That when tea comes to us across the sea,
It suffers, and loses some of its fragrance,
The fine aroma that is its own.
Through the desert it had to go and over mountains,...
Must pay toll to Cossack and Russian;...
They stamp it, then it may go on,
And passes with us then for genuine goods.
But does it not go so with love too
Through life's wilderness? What would be the consequence,
What the world's judgment, if you or I,
Boldly would import our love free!
"Oh, the moral aroma is lost!
"The scent of legitimacy is rubbed off!"
(stands up)
Such goods are still contraband.
They must go through form's cold Siberia,
Where fresh sea air cannot harm them;...
They must show the stamp, black on white,
From organist and bell-ringer and sexton,
Family, friends, acquaintances, yes, who not,
And many other good people besides... except
The free pass that God himself has given them...
And then the last point of resemblance;
See how the hand of civilization weighs so heavily
On the Sun Land, over there, in the far East;
Its wall is crumbling, its power broken,
The last true Mandarin is hanged.
Profane hands now pluck the harvest.
Soon the Sun Land will be but a legend,
A fairy tale no one believes anymore;
The whole world becomes one gray mist!...
We carried the wonderland to the grave.
But if that is so,... where then does love remain?
Ah, then it too has disappeared! (raises his teacup).
Well, then let perish what cannot exist:...
With this tea I drink to dead Amor!
(drinks; great consternation and movement in the company).
In all kinds of forms around us.
Here sits the widow in her black dress...
Can still raise many a sturdy pledge of love.
Engaged couples of various sorts.
For many years.
(breaking off)
The youngest class... the couple of today...
You just have to grasp that truth here,
To hear and see it...
When did I ever deny its existence?
But you must consider in all this
That smoke is not always proof of fire.
I know very well, people get married,
Set up households and all that;
You will certainly never hear me deny
That one gets a ring, another a rejection,
That pink notes are quietly written
And sealed with doves... quarreling together;
That lovers walk through the streets
And get chocolate on visits,
That custom invented a form,
A code of forms for lovers;...
But good Lord, we also have majors,
An arsenal with a lot of material;
There you find drums, spurs, and rapiers,...
But what does all that prove?
Only that there are soldiers and weapons.
But bearers of arms are not yet heroes.
Yes, even if there were an army of tents,...
Would that prove heroism?
It is not always true, as claimed,
That young love is strongest, and so...
Yes, as if that were the only one.
One cannot always rely on that.
No, only in marriage, the intimate life,
Does love rest on a rock, firm and sure,
That can never give way, never slip away from us.
I think a union of free people,
That lasts for years, even if it can be broken daily,
Best corresponds to the truth of love.
(with passion)
Is richer in essence, stronger still.
(pensively)
Of the anemone that grows under the snow.
(suddenly bursting out)
That sought Paradise behind the dividing wall.
(offendedly to Valk, while standing up)
To stir up strife where we made peace;
Don't worry about your friend and his happiness...
But I will teach her that this fall.
(pats Anna on the head)
(laughs loudly)
Madman's buffoonery from a friend's mouth!
Was it sense he wanted to find in her?
Was it a professor of the cookbook?
He came here as spring's joyful messenger,
And picked a wild rose from the garden.
You set to cultivate it; now he returned...
What did he find? A rosehip bush!
But a rosehip bush was not his spring bride!
Then he would not be in the right place here.
With domesticity, that's part of it too;
That is an offshoot of the great lie,
That climbs high like the wild hop vine.
I take off my hat most respectfully, madam,
To every "ball princess"; she is beauty,...
And in the ballroom the ideal spins golden threads,...
Seldom in nurseries.
(with suppressed anger)
An engaged man is lost to his friend;
That's the whole core of the matter.
I have experience, believe me, on that point.
(emphatically)
(bursting out)
And I want war, and strife with all my might
Against that lie, so deeply rooted,
That you all cultivate and tenderly nourish,
So that it shoots up high and seems like truth.
I want to file an objection...
That whispers of the widow's loss,...
Of love that in bright sunny days
Never thought of "complaint" nor "longing"!
That you call love's proud stream,
Lazily creeping through spouses' veins!
Of love that trampled all routine underfoot,
That stood bravely on the outer ramparts,
And laughed at the world's wise fools!
That you call love's beauty flame,
That keeps an engagement for many years!
Oh, come! Is that the same that kindled
The poetic fire in the sober civil servant?
That you call love's young happiness,
That is afraid to venture across the sea,
That demands sacrifices, and love's fairest jewel
Itself to sacrifice... miserably scorns!
O you false prophets of mediocrity,
For once call things by their real name;
Call what the widow feels a sad longing,
Marriage habit, for that is what they are!
Mockery sounds from every word! (comes close to Valk's eyes).
Now I risk my old skin in strife
For the old faith against the new doctrine!
A married couple—like a priest—is consecrated...
(on the other side of Valk)
They can already sing victory in advance!
How would it be possible.., how could it be done...
No, the word of truth is mighty, irrefutable;...
He must be deaf who does not understand this.
Look,... these are all love's children...! (stops confused).
That is to say... no, of course not...!
(fans herself with her handkerchief)
So true, so good, and so truly national.
You yourself distinguish between the pledges
Of marriage and of love... as is proper!
The difference exists as between raw and cooked,
As between wild flowers and cultivated ones.
With us love soon becomes a science,
Long ago it ceased to be a passion here.
With us love is like a separate guild,
With fixed laws and its own flag;
It is a class of lovers and married people...
They do their service and can manage it;
Everything hangs together like seaweed in a niche.
A singing society is all that is missing.
That was a good idea; there are already papers
For children, ladies, believers, and marksmen.
I hope no one will ask about the price.
There you will see, parading,
How John and Peter and Nicholas get married;
There every pink note will be inserted,
That William wrote to his tender Laura.
There will appear, among other misfortunes,...
Like murder, and fire from crinoline skirts,...
Who in the course of the week has been "engaged";
There one offers in the list of advertisements
Used rings at civil prices;
There one announces twins and triplets;
If someone gets married, the whole crowd
Is drummed up to come and watch;...
If someone is rejected, it is printed
In the paper, among other news items;
Something like the following: "Again
Has the little love-devil demanded a victim!"
Yes, you will see, it will go well; for if it comes near
The time when I must recruit new subscribers,
Then I know a bait that will attract them,
Then I will sacrifice a bachelor in big-paper style.
Yes, you will see how I bravely fight for the honor of the guild;
Like a tiger,... like an editor I seize my prey..."
(comes closer)
You are not risking your good name like that!
That no one can live on love;
I will prove that it is a lie,
For I will live on it like a prince;
Especially if Miss Ekster allows me
To publish as a "feuilleton" the "novel"
Of our pastor, Mr. Strooman.
(frightened)
What, my novel? Was I ever romantic?
And old custom! That is a great lie!
Here stands a friend who will not waver.
I will open the paper with his love poems.
(with a frightened look at the pastor)
Do you dare to say that I write poems...!
(in great anger)
A faithful brother who will not desert.
"A song of love" I expect from friend Lind,
That love, too tender for sea and wind....
Who gives up emigrants for his tenderness,
Thus his love shows itself in all its glory!
We cannot live under one roof any longer...
I hope you will leave my house today...
(with a bow while Mrs. Halm and the guests go inside)
You have deeply offended me and my wife...
Yes, even my children, Trientje, Mientje, all...!
Crow away, sir,... shout out your ideas...
(goes inside with wife and children).
You, with your love, which you have denied
Before the cock crowed for the third time!
(feels faint)
Loosen my corset... I feel so faint!
STUIVER (to Valk, while leaving with Miss Ekster on his arm).
I renounce your friendship!
(solemnly)
(He goes inside; Swanhild has remained by the veranda steps).
Now I have cleared up!
(points politely to the house)
Mother, with all the friends, all the aunts.
(comes closer)
Their herd will not increase with me.
Then I stand beside you as your faithful squire.
But were you yourself, Valk, the one you are now?
You offered me the willow's fate as happiness...
No, it is true, then it was only child's play;
But you awakened me to serious endeavor.
In the restless life stands the great temple,
Where the pure voice of truth will sound.
Not like the old Aesir, from on high
Looking down on the wild turmoil of battle;...
But bearing the mark of beauty in one's own breast,
Like Saint Olaf bearing the cross on his armor,...
With wide vision surveying the battlefield,
Even if he himself is in the net of strife...
To know a sunbeam behind the mists,
That must a man undertake as his life's task!
Free and alone.
Yet that is the requirement. Oh no, that is past,
That life, alone dreaming, within myself.
Over is my indoor poetry;
I will live my song, among heath and pines,
I will fight my battle in the vibrating present;...
I or the lie... one of us must yield!
I misjudged you; your heart is warm and brave;
Forgive me,... and let us part without bitterness...
We will not part. Swanhild, have you courage?
Then we will fight together, side by side!
Not a single friend have I, fight with everyone,
With sharp spears hatred attacks me;...
Tell me, have you courage? With me it is stand or fall...
My future path goes straight through custom and law,
Where a thousand fetters wind around the foot;...
There I, like all others, set my table,
And slip the ring on the hand of my beloved!
(pulls a ring from his finger and holds it up).
(in breathless suspense)
That love's power is still eternal,
And undefiled and in all its splendor
Bears itself through life's flat mediocrity.
Yesterday I pointed to the fire of ideas,
That burst wildly, high on the mountain peaks;...
Then you were afraid,... you trembled because you are a woman;
Now I point to the true goal of woman!
And Swanhild's heart accomplishes what it promises;
Behold here the abyss,... Swanhild, dare the leap!
(almost inaudibly)
(jubilantly)
A ray of light that points to victory!
Now spring is coming, and my soul will bloom!
(she falls into his arms bravely while the curtain falls).
END OF THE SECOND ACT
Third Act
Evening with bright moonshine. Coloured lanterns among the trees. In the background, tables laid with wine bottles, glasses, cakes, etc. From the house, where all windows are lit, muted piano playing and singing are heard during the following scene. Zwaanhilde stands by the veranda. Valk enters from the right with some books and a writing portfolio under his arm. Behind him comes the porter with a trunk and a travelling bag.
That there is nothing left but a small bag,
And a summer jacket.
When I leave, on my arm. Come here now;
Here is the folder.
Burn it later, you hear.
(smiling)
With all the drafts on poetic gold.
The books... well, you can keep them yourself.
Now, if sir is giving away his books,
Then surely he is done with studying?
And much more besides.
Go help them now load everything up. (Porter exits left).
One hour still, Zwaanhild, we have for ourselves,
Here in the summer night, by the light of the stars.
See how they glitter among the leafy vault,
Like golden seeds of the world tree.
Now I have loosened the last slave bond,
Now the scourge has struck me for the last time.
Like Jacob's people I stand ready for the journey,
Before the Passover lamb, with pilgrim's staff in my hand.
You dull race, that beyond the desert
Perceives no Canaan, the promised land,
You time-slave without rest, build your mummies
Their royal tombs in their pyramids;...
I seek freedom... through the wilderness,...
Even at low tide, the sea will carry me further;
But the enemy's bastion, built on lies,
Will sink there into its deepest depths!
(short pause; he looks at her and takes her hand).
You are so quiet, my Zwaanhild!
Oh, let me dream, quietly just dream.
Speak you for me; thoughts blossom up
And become song... as before the moon
The white water lilies open.
Never wavering voice: "I am yours!"
Oh, say it, Zwaanhild, please!...
(throws herself around his neck)
And I was lonely in my own soul;
An uninvited guest at feast and joy,
I was worth nothing there... yes sometimes even less.
But then you came! For the very first time
I found my thought in another's word;
What vaguely I dreamed, you knew how to give form!
You youthful, strong, among all those old ones!
Half repelled me sometimes your sharp mind,
Half your sunny being attracted me,
As the sea attracts the green shore,
And cliffs again drive back the water.
Now I saw to the bottom of your soul,
Now you have me undivided and whole;
You, beloved leafy tree, blooming at the breakers.
My heart has only flood, but never more ebb!
Baptized in sorrow and suffering... that was consecration.
I myself knew not what drove me, ere dearly bought
In you I saw the treasure I was about to lose!
Yes, thank Him, who in my book of life
With sorrow's stamp ennobled my passion;
Who gave us a free pass on our journey,
And commanded us, as chosen pair,
Through the dark forest to chase the shining goal!
(points to the house)
Lights shine for the young couple;
There sounds the friends' song, with cheerful laughter.
Whoever passes by must surely think that
There is happiness... in that festive bustle. (sympathetically).
You, world's darling... poor sister!
Her soul-gold with him and a hundred others,
Her capital spread in so many hands,
That she can demand it whole from no one?
Not one is now more all in debt to her
For no one must she live completely anymore.
Oh, I am ten times richer than she;
I have of all people only one.
Empty was my heart, when you with victory banners,
With festive joy cheerfully entered;
Now you reign there as lord of my thoughts;
Like spring scents you fill my whole soul.
Yes, I may thank God, now and every day,
That I lived alone until I found you,...
That I was as dead... when the bells tolled
That called me from darkness to light.
We are the rich,... we who stand outside...
Possessors of the treasure are we, who look out
Travelling, the land in, in the silent night.
Let lights shine and let tones sound,
Let them dance and enjoy inside;...
Look upward, Zwaanhild, into the blue night,
There shine a thousand little lights too...
A rustling goes softly through the linden leaves...
I left him for the world's busy bustle.
Then he beckoned me home with gentle hand;
And now I come he lights the lamp,
Prepares a feast for the found son
And gives his finest work to me as reward.
From now on, I swear, I will remain faithful to him,...
Serve him, fight bravely for his light.
United our life becomes a hymn of praise,
To love's highest song, which conquers all!
Where he a man...
Who together can surely not perish!
(shows Valk the ring she wears on her finger).
Now I will quickly tell them everything!
(quickly)
Tonight we pluck only red roses
Of sweet happiness... day-work would be sacrilege.
(The door of the garden room is opened).
There comes your mother! Hide yourself! As my bride
No one's eye may look upon you tonight!
(They go through the trees to the garden house. Mrs. Halm and
Goudstad come out onto the veranda).
(comes over)
I know it well!
He keeps his word; I know him well enough for that.
He'll put us all in his newspaper,
My girl's name printed a hundred times,
And right next to it thank-you's, twin pairs.
Yes, you know, if it weren't for our honor
I'd almost propose a truce...
I found indications, yes even a trace,
Indicating that, when he took such a high tone
Just now, he was not quite sober,
There is even one proof, though not legal,
That strongly testifies against the man in question.
I have heard and know that after dinner
He in the room, where he lives with Lind,
Carried on greatly, restless, wild.
Broke things...
goes to the background; Zwaanhilde remains hidden by the
garden house).
Hush, we are on the right track!
One moment, ma'am! Valk is not leaving,
Or if he does, it will be as a friend.
I'll fix things up for everyone again,
If I can just speak to him...
(They go into the garden together; during the following they are seen
walking back and forth in the background, in earnest conversation).
the water).
What a man of hate such a poet is;
But I, a desk man, am a man of state...
And politics... I work for myself... (sees the pastor coming out of
the garden room).
Ah, so!
My dear,... oh be so kind
And go, just for a moment, inside,
And keep my wife...
And the little ones are always together
And never once... (Mrs. and the children appear in the door).
Yes... there they are all again!
(softly to Stuiver)
To amuse her... something funny, a tale!
(goes onto the veranda)
That is a masterpiece of fine style... (pulls a book from
his pocket).
I'll give you a sample of that... (politely invites her to
go into the room and goes himself. Valk comes forward into
the garden; he and Strooman face each other and look at each
other silently for a while).
Amenable now than when we parted?
I go with steady step my own way...
You might still be thinking about the newspaper
For love affairs?
With deeds, not letters, I break the ice.
From whom I won't be so easily free now;
He, Stuiver, will use his power...
And that is your fault, and that is bad.
You stirred up those old fanaticisms,
And that he will not be silent, I dare swear,
If against the demands of the roaring choir
I bring but a single word into the middle.
The world of officials is a great power
In our press, just now, I've been told.
The paltriest little notice can strike me down,
If it is printed in the big newspaper,
Which goes about with Samson's force and vengeance,
Trampling with feet, striking wildly around...
And that just when the quarter is up again!...
(coming forward)
(anxiously)
Mark my words: I'll fall on the altar of vengeance...
(facetiously)
There goes a Nemesis through life,
Which surely strikes, though often late,...
Which no man is given to escape.
If anyone has sinned against the idea,
Then comes the press, its ever watchful guard,
And makes the guilty one atone for his crime.
With the "idea" you make such a fuss about!
I am a family man and a husband,...
Consider that I have twelve children:
My daily work keeps me bound day after day,
I have a parish and a large farm,
With flocks, cattle, and spiritual lambs,...
Look, all that must be well managed,
With shearing, threshing, and manuring the land;
Then I am called here, then to the stable;...
Where do I find time to live for ideas?
Hiding in the warm house before winter.
In young Norway it is beginning to dawn;
The bold army counts a thousand fighters,
And the morning breeze swells the fluttering banner.
With all my kin, yes with everything that
Until yesterday was my little kingdom,...
Has not much changed for me today?
Do you think I am as rich as when I came here...?
(as Valk is about to answer).
There was a time when I was young, like you,
And no less fearless and brave,
Then came the struggle for bread... time passed;
Such a thing does not steel the spirit, but the hands.
I went northward; found my home in the mountains...
Before me lay the whole world in my parish.
My home... sir! Do you know what a home is?
(curtly)
A home is where there is plenty of room for five,
Though an enemy would think it too small for two.
A home is where your life of thought
Can play freely, like a child on father's lap.
Where your voice does not knock in vain at hearts,
But receives answer with familiar sound.
A home is where hair can gray peacefully
And no one notices that you grow old,
Where tender memory surrounds you blue,
Like hilltops far away behind the forest.
(with forced mockery)
So unequally did the dear Lord create us.
What you were richly given is lacking in me,
But I won where you have lost.
From the clouds, a truth sometimes seems
But a fiction on trodden ground;
You want the heights, I no higher than the roof,...
One became an eagle...
I am a broody hen;... well; under my wings
I have a brood of chicks, which you do not!
And for my brood I have heart and courage,
And I defend myself if one comes too close.
Oh, I understand very well, you find me stupid,
Yes, perhaps you pass a harsher judgment
And consider me keen on worldly goods;...
Let there be no more strife between us about that!
(seizes Valk's arm and continues in a subdued voice but with ever
increasing force).
Yes, I have become greedy, stupid, and dull:
But I became miserly for those whom God gave me,
And I became stupid in the hard struggle with cares,
And I grew dull in the loneliness of the mountains.
Yet every time a boat of ideals
Went down in the endless breakers,
Another rose visible on the horizon,
Which brought me new life's reward to the shore.
For every dream that perished in toil,
For every flight feather that broke in ascent,
I received as God's gift a living miracle,
Which I received from Him with praise and thanks.
I fought for them, for them I scraped,
For them I even expounded the Holy Scripture;...
It was my flower garden, that little troop of children...
Now you have trampled on it with your mockery!
Aesthetic-literarily it has been proven
By you, that my happiness is foolish delusion,
That what was holy earnest to me is ridiculous...
Now I demand, give me back my peace,
But let it be intact and without cracks...
Doubt, you alone can remove it.
Take down the wall that separates me from my own,
Lift the ban that holds me captive.
Can mend the cracked vessel of your bliss?
With words, can also be restored by the word;...
And that you can forge the loose link;...
Think again... speak the truth then,
And give me peace... that I can hoist the flag again...
(proudly)
(looks at him fixedly)
From someone, searching on truth's track: (with raised finger).
There goes a Nemesis through life;
Which no man is given to escape! (he goes to the house).
STUIVER (comes out with his glasses on and with the open book in
his hand).
Oh pastor, come quickly, the children are crying
For you...
(in the doorway)
(Strooman goes into the house).
(puts book and glasses in his pocket and approaches Valk).
Surely you see that it cannot be allowed
To make use of confidential
Tales;... one may not tell them.
(eagerly)
You can imagine how that must diminish
All my prospects, if my chief ever knew
That a little Pegasus sometimes neighs
During working hours in such an office.
You know well that in all matters
Of the office, they prefer not to have poets at work,
But worst would be if it accidentally came out
That I had transgressed the highest command,
And communicated things of importance.
(mysteriously)
To immediately apply for his resignation.
That's a regulation for us officials,
That we everywhere, even at home, keep the secret.
To thus muzzle the "clerk" who threshes."
(shrugs his shoulders)
And besides, now that salary revision
May soon come up for discussion,
It is not wise to immerse oneself
In official matters of such delicate nature.
And therefore, you see, be so kind as to keep silent;...
Because if I ever lost...
The protocol is really the tiepin,
That closes the shirtfront of the office;
Sniffing behind it gives nothing but trouble.
To give a hint that you wrote verses.
That pastor, who now has prosperity,
And money enough for a life without care?
But if he already sank into decay,
What then is to become of us clerks?
Of me,... I who have never been promoted,
Have a girl and will soon marry,
Naturally soon must provide for a family,
Et cetera! (more vehemently). Oh, was I wealthy,
I would gird the armor around my limbs,
Strike the table so that the world resounded.
And was I alone, a bachelor like you,
Then I would, believe me, through the prose snow
Also break a path for the high idea!
Despise the world's foolish owl-judgment;
Freedom turns even caterpillars into butterflies!
(a step back)
The pearl is gone; what use the empty shell?
I am no young student, but an official!
I now do not count what Christian the Fifth
In his time decreed about marriage promises,...
Because those provisions are not mentioned in
The "Penal Codes" of the year forty-two;
In so far the matter would not be criminal,
It would not be an infringement of the law...
(with firmness)
There can be no question of such an exception.
She makes no high demands on life,
I neither, and I have long noticed
That I am made for the office and a home.
Let others travel with the wild swans,
The quiet, little life can also be beautiful!
What says also somewhere privy councillor Goethe
Of the heavenly Milky Way, shining and white?
That no man can skim cream from it,
And even less make butter of it...
Let the daily routine be consecrated by the spirit;...
A man must be a citizen of his time,
But also ennoble his civic sphere.
Yes certainly, in the small there is also much beauty;
But it is the art to see and understand it.
Not everyone who wishes to handle clay
Is therefore the potter-artist.
To block your way is not in our plan.
We go the high road, you soar in heights,
Yes, we too once soared in that;
But the day demands work and not song,...
One unlearns that, gradually in life.
Youthful life, you see, is a process
And the most foolish of all procedures;...
Make a settlement, and do not resist,
For you will lose your case before all judges.
(boldly and hopefully while casting a glance at the garden house)
Yet I know, mercy would replace justice for me!...
I know, two can live the life.
In free faith, happy in the highest striving;
But you loudly proclaim the sad doctrine:
The ideal, that is quite secondary!
Just like the flower..., as soon as the fruit sets.
(Inside at the piano Miss Ekster plays and sings: "Ach, du lieber
Augustin". Stuiver stops and listens in silent emotion).
She calls me with the same old song,
That spoke to me, when I first saw her.
(places his hand on Valk's arm and looks him in the eyes).
From her playing sounds, full of yearning, tender trembling,
With new strength her first yes to me.
And when at last our love fades out
And dies, to rise again as tender friendship,
The old song will connect then and now.
And if my back then bends from constant writing,
And my daily task becomes only struggle with cares,
Yet I will return home cheerful,
Where what is past revives in music.
If I find a quiet hour there for us both,
Then I am satisfied with everything else!
(He goes into the house. Valk goes to the garden house. Zwaanhilde
emerges; she is pale and moved. They look at each other silently for
a while and then fall passionately into each other's arms).
You fresh, free flower on churchyard soil,...
That they call love's spring life!
A corpse-odor wafts around bridegroom and bride;
It smells of corpses, where two go together
In the street bustle, a smile on the lips,
Lie's clam lime-grave in their heart,
And the impotence of death in all their striving.
That they call life! Great gods!
Is such a fate then worth all that misery?
Is it worth raising troops of children?
To feed them with honesty and duty?
And make them hope for a short summer?
So that the slaughterbench may be well supplied!
Is the world not the same everywhere?
And do you not find hanging on every wall,
In truth's glass-and-frame, the same lie?
No, let us stay, enjoying the fine play,
Tragicomedy, harlequinade,...
A people that believes... what all men lie!
See Strooman and his wife, and Lind and Stuiver,
Performing true love's masquerade,
Speaking faithfully and in the heart the lie,...
Yet, at bottom, they are truly good people!
They lie for themselves and for each other;
But no one may touch that lie itself;...
And each finds, though sometimes his boat veers,
Himself rich as Croesus, blessed as a God;
They themselves steered from Paradise downstream,
And bang! they stuck fast on hell-sand;
But no one among them notices where they sit,
And each thinks he dwells in Paradise,
And each smiles touchingly oh and ah;
And then comes Beelzebub with goat's foot,
Horned and roaring, mocking, jeering, reviling,...
Then they nudge each other softly:
That's Our Dear Lord; quickly take off your hat!
(after a moment of thoughtful silence)
Shown me the way to my spring bliss,
The life that I dreamed before me
I will from today call my daily task.
Oh, good God! how I groped in the dark,...
Then You brought light,... then You let me find him!
(looks at Valk with quiet tender admiration)
Who stands firm in the storm, that fells everything,
And stands alone, yet wishes to shelter me?...
(looks shyly at the house)
Each spoke in the name of one half of the world.
One asked if young love could grow
When the soul was burdened under wealth?
The other asked: and how can love live
When nothing but poverty awaits it?
It's terrible... to preach such a doctrine
As a word of truth, and yet just go on living!
What can anything external do about that?
I have told you already: if you wish to fight,
Then I will stand with you or fall with you.
Oh, nothing so light as the biblical command
To leave everything, to follow him,
The beloved, and with him go to God.
(embraces her)
We stand in the thunderstorm; no one can fell us!
(Mrs. Halm and Goudstad come from the right in the background. Valk and
Zwaanhilde remain standing in the garden house).
(muffled)
(surprised)
That he was quietly up to something.
(to herself)
But no, I don't believe it...
(extends her hand)
(seriously)
(looks back as she departs)
(approaches Valk)
Then I leave.
(about to withdraw)
For between us everything must be clear;...
We three must speak frankly together.
(surprised)
(suppressing a smile)
Half a year now that I have known you;
We quarreled...
We often gave each other a full blast;
You stood as captain of a lofty cause,
I was just an ordinary toiler,
And yet it was as if a bond united us
In a thousand long-forgotten old things
From my own youthful thoughts and memories,
Which were awakened by your words.
Yes, yes. You look at me; my greying hair
Was once wavy, heavy, and brown in former days,
My forehead, no longer smooth from daily toil,
Did not always bear wrinkles.
But enough of that now! I am a businessman...
(with light mockery)
(steps between them).
Look, therefore, Valk and Swanhild, I stand here.
We must speak, for the hour is near,
(tense)
(smiling)
Over a poem...
(nods slowly)
(glances at Swanhild briefly and turns again to Valk).
No other woman have I ever asked such a thing;
You, Swanhild, I have come to know thoroughly;
Your beautiful soul is too lofty for prudery.
I saw you as a child, unfold like a flower,
And everything I value in a woman, you possessed;...
But long I regarded you only as a daughter;...
Now I ask... if you will become my bride?
(Swanhild recoils timidly).
(seizes him by the arm)
If you also ask her,... then she has free choice.
(looks at him intently)
Don't play comedy, it will get you nowhere;
For though I am but an ordinary worker,
I still have a kind of clairvoyance.
Yes, Valk, you love her. I watched without envy
That young love grow into a flower;
But it is precisely that overconfident strong love
That could break Swanhild's happiness.
(flares up)
(calmly)
If you were to get her now...
(defiantly)
(slowly and emphatically)
That on this ground she now built everything,
And risked everything on this one card,...
And life's storm swept away this ground,
And the little flower wilted in the winter darkness?
(loses self-control and exclaims)
(looks at him meaningfully)
When I was young, like you. In earlier days
I loved someone;... we were separated.
I saw her again yesterday;... nothing remains.
(smiles gravely)
For her I mourned for many years,
And all that time she stood in my memory
As she was, the beautiful young girl,
When I met her for the first time.
Now you two also burn in blind ardor,
Now you too stake your lives,...
Look, therefore I call out to you: be careful!
Wait a moment and think it over; the game is dangerous!
My firm belief, which cannot waver.
(supplementing)
Habit, age, and need and cares.
Well, so be it; it may be true; but look
At the matter now from the other side.
What love is, no one can explain;
What that joyful belief precisely consists of,
That two are made for blissful oneness...
Look, no one in the world can answer that.
But marriage is by nature something practical,
And so is engagement, my friend;
And it can actually be quite well proven
That someone is suited for this or that one.
But love makes its choice precisely in the dark,
It chooses not a housewife, but a girl;
And if now that girl is not suited
To be a wife for you...?
(tense)
(shrugs)
A good engagement does not depend on love
Alone; many other things come into it,
Family members, whom one also loves,
And whom one also wishes to see satisfied.
And then marriage? Yes, it is like a sea
Of demands and expectations, which, alas,
Have little more to do with love.
Here householdness and quiet virtues are demanded,
Here knowledge of cooking and more is demanded,
Modesty, a proper sense of duty,...
And much else, which in the lady's presence
I deem not suitable for further discussion.
Get some experience; look around in life,
Where every young couple has their mouth full
As if they had received millions.
Then they hastily get married;
A nest built... now happiness cannot be contained;
So it goes on for a while as in a daze;
But then the due date comes;... heaven yes!
Then the whole house turns out to be a grand bankruptcy!
Bankrupt the rosy cheeks of the wife,
Bankrupt the blossoms of her maiden dreams,
Bankrupt the joyful audacity of him,
Bankrupt all the glow of earlier days;
Bankrupt, bankrupt the whole beautiful little nest;
Yet these two entered life
As a love-trading firm of the first class!
(passionately)
(imperturbably)
It was nevertheless truth. It was your own word,
When you stood here, and defeated the whole tea party.
Then it also sounded: that is a lie!
From everyone there; now, I do not take it ill;
We all find it less pleasant
To hear of death when we are ill.
Look at Strooman, he, who composed, wrote poetry,
In his love-struck time, with spirit and taste;...
Who can be surprised that the man sank so
When they entered marriage with such haste?
She was created for him as a lover,...
But unsuited she was to be his wife.
And then the clerk, who wrote good verses?
Scarcely was he, by grace, engaged,
Or it was over with all the rhyming;
And since then the man's Muse lies flat
Lulled to sleep by legal paperwork.
Thus you see clearly... (looks at Swanhild).
Are you cold?
(softly)
(forces himself to a mocking tone)
Never with a "plus",... why then do you want to stake
The capital you manage, in such
A doubtful sea-lottery?
It almost seems as if you hold that you
Are especially created for bankruptcy?
(looks at him, smiling and shakes his head).
In two ways one can build the little nest;
It can rest on credit of beautiful illusions,
With promissory notes on endless future bliss,
And on an eternity of youth and life,
And on impossibility of gout and snuff...
It can also rest on two rosy cheeks,
On bright eyes and on beautiful long hair,
On the firm belief that everything will remain so
And the wig-hour will never strike for us.
And it can also rest on enthusiasm and dreams,
On flower opulence in barren wilderness,
On hearts that keep beating all through life
As when they both said the first yes.
What does one call such business dealing?... You know it;...
That is called humbug... humbug, dear friends!
You man of gold... perhaps even a millionaire;
While what I possess in this world,
Will soon be carried away by two porters.
(sharply)
For a solid foundation, I can think,
Means money,... the magic means money,
Which adorns the head of many a widow of age
With a halo of golden glory.
It is a quiet, warm flow of the heart
Of esteem, friendship, which honors a heart
As much as passion's jubilant intoxication.
It is a feeling of gladly performed duties,
Of tender care, and of a peaceful home,
Of self-denial for each other's good,
Of watching that no single stone shall hurt
The chosen one's foot wherever she goes.
It is a gentle hand that heals the wounds,
It is man's strength, which quietly willingly bears
The balance, not disturbed by time,
It is the arm, a faithful support, that lifts gently...
That is what I can offer you, Swanhild,
For your happiness-building; answer me now.
(Swanhild makes a great effort to speak. Goudstad raises his hand
in a warding gesture).
Think well, so that you may not regret it!
Choose between us now, freely and consciously.
That I have read deep in your eyes.
Come, tell her now too, that she may decide! (presses his hand).
Now I am going inside. Let the game be over now.
And dare you promise me on your word
To be for her also such a friend for life,
As I could be,... (turning to Swanhild).
Now well, then you draw
A thick line through what I offered.
Then I shall still conquer, in all quietness;
If only you find happiness; that is what I wanted. (to Valk).
And, by the way,... you spoke just now of money;
Believe me, that is more than tinsel.
I stand alone, have no one in the world;
All that is mine shall be yours;
I adopt you as my son and her as my daughter.
You know, near the border I have an estate;
There I shall go. You set up elsewhere,
And when the year is up, we shall see each other again...
Now you know me; take counsel with yourself,
Do not forget that the journey goes downstream,
And that it is no game... no enjoyment, reveling;...
And now, in heaven's name,... now you must choose!
(He goes into the house. Pause. Valk and Swanhild look at each other
timidly).
(to himself)
How rich we were, rich in each other,
When the whole world had deserted us,
When we rose in our thoughts, like the waves
Of the surf on the shore, in the quiet night.
Then there was courage and strength in our souls,
And we saw ourselves united forever;...
He came with worldly goods, took away our faith,
And sowed doubt,... then everything had to fall!
(wildly energetic)
Is all true for others, not for us!
(shakes head quietly)
Can never again wave in the summer wind.
(anxiously passionate)
When you sow lies, you reap tears.
For others, you said? And do you not think
That everyone once thought like you and I,
That he was the hero who defied the lightning,
That no storm could strike him down,
And that no mists far away on the horizon,
Would ever become a thundercloud.
I want only your love, only that.
Those others shout each louder than the next...
I shall support you quietly on strong arms.
That love, on which everything must rest,...
Do you then possess what nevertheless ensures happiness?
That it will never hang like a wilted flower,
But will smell as today, and continue to bloom
Your whole life?
(after a moment)
(painfully)
What does "long" mean when it comes to love?
That is its sentence, honeydew on the grain.
"Infinite is love in its duration"...
That song is nonsense then, instead of that
It should be: "Once I loved you"!
(as if lifted by a powerful inspiration).
Not languishing behind evening clouds;...
No, our sun shall in its full brilliance
Be extinguished at noon, like a miracle!
(frightened)
And after that spring let there never come an autumn,
That never the singer fall silent in your soul,
Not yearningly long, for where he was born.
After that, let not the shroud of winter
Ever cover our dead dreams, cold;...
And our beautiful, life-joyful love
Shall not languish, not gradually weaken,
Shall die as it lived, young and strong!
(in deep sorrow)
To be your wife, that was not given to me,
That I see now, that I feel and know now!
Love as a game I would gladly risk in joy,
Through life's seriousness I dare not carry your soul.
(closer and with rising fervor).
Now no drowsiness, no lying down slack!
Now let your spirit surge in song
Through cosmic space with young gods fly!
And if our future boat should capsize,...
One plank remains above water,... I know a way;
The bold swimmer beckons light shores!
Then let happiness sink into the cold grave;
Yet our love shall, God be praised,
Still unharmed reach that distant shore!
Just now when the beautiful world lies open to us,...
Here, under blue sky, spring-mild,
The same day our covenant was baptized!
It can only go downhill, not again uphill!
And woe, if once the day of judgment comes
And we stand before our highest judge,
And if, righteous God, he demands of us
The treasure he lent us for life...
Would not then the answer exclude his mercy:
"That we lost on the way to the grave!"
(with a firm resolve)
(ardently)
Only on this path can I follow you!
As the grave leads to eternal life,
Love too is first consecrated to life
When it is freed from wild passion's desire,
Liberated, when the soul's memory hovers around us!
Throw away the ring, Swanhild!
(exultantly)
I have filled your soul with song and light!
Take flight! Now you have lifted yourself up strongly,...
And Swanhild has sung her swan song!
(she pulls the ring from her finger and presses a kiss on it).
Plunge down, my dream, into the deep, salty sea,
Until the world's end,... here I make my offering!
(goes to the background, throws the ring into the fjord and returns to
Valk with a radiant face).
Now I have lost you for this life,...
But for eternity I have won you!
(with force)
On earth we must part ways.
Each go his way, each strive without complaint.
The fever of the times also seized us; without struggle
We desired the reward of victory,
The Sabbath rest, but without working days,
Though the demand is: strive and endure.
No will-o'-the-wisp threatens us from the bog of punishment;
The remembrance, which is our inheritance for life,
Shall radiate light, from dark curtain of clouds,
Stand like the rainbow in seven colors,
As a sign of the covenant between us and God.
And in its glow you take up your duties...
In schoolroom, or parliament, or church,
Everyone, in high or low station,
Who in his work keeps the ideal in sight.
Yes, uphill I go; the winged steed is ready;
I know, for life my task is consecrated!
And now, farewell!
(embraces her)
Now I can lose you for this life!
The light thought lives; for that is God,
(goes to the background)
(waves his hat)
God's beautiful love live on earth, hurrah!
(The door is opened. Valk goes to the right; the younger guests
come out with cheerful laughter).
(Stiver comes arm in arm with Strooman. Mrs. Strooman and the children
following them).
(quickly)
(Mrs. Halm, Lind, Anna, Goudstad, and Miss Ekster and the remaining guests
come out. All eyes seek Valk and Swanhild. General astonishment as they see them each separately).
(between the aunts, claps her hands together)
(who has noticed nothing)
(He, with several other guests, goes towards Valk, but involuntarily takes
a step back as he looks at him and exclaims).
What has happened to you? You have like Janus
Two faces!
(with a smile)
The earth is flat, sirs;... my eye deceived me;
Flat as a pancake;... is it better like that? (goes quickly to the right).
(to her husband)
garden).
(as if petrified)
speechlessly).
(to Lind)
(embraces her)
(looks back at Swanhild)
But what still lives I shall try to heal.
(regains speech and embraces Stiver)
That you are engaged to your dear Ekster!
With joy increase your lineage!
(rubs his hands contentedly and looks out for Valk)
That serves such a prophet of doom right! (they walk on talking,
while Mrs. Halm comes to Swanhild).
(muffled and urgent)
Do not refuse him... he is rich... and if you have no objection...
I want to leave here...
(with a quiet laugh)
(She goes to the veranda; Mrs. Halm seeks out Goudstad).
(among the guests)
Though doubt may seriously assail us,
The good right of truth overcomes the serpent,
And love triumphs.
(all couples embrace and kiss each other. To the left, laughter and
singing are heard).
That is going to the mountains... and I have completely
Forgotten to cancel...
(The students come from the left and stop at the entrance).
(to Lind)
He is engaged...
That he now has nothing to do in the mountains.
(to the comrades)
What shall we do now? Our tenor is missing.
VALK (who comes from the right in a summer jacket with student cap,
knapsack and stick).
That part I will sing in the young Norwegian choir!
Like the bee flies out from its winter hive!
I carry a string instrument in my breast,
A zither with a double row of notes;
The one high, vibrates with life's joy,
The other sounds beneath, deep and sad.
(to a couple of the students).
Good; then swarm like bees in the green foliage...
One day we shall return, rich in pollen,
To our hive, to our queen!
(Turning to the company, while the students depart and the choir from
the first act is heard softly from outside).
Forgive me everything, great and small sins;
I too wipe out everything; (softly) but remember!
(in excessive joy)
My wife has hope again... happy expectations...
(pulls him aside whispering).
(partly whispering. Audible only:)
STIVER (with Miss Ekster on his arm turns to Valk, smiles triumphantly,
and says, pointing to the minister):
I get the hundred thalers—and am going to marry...
(with a mocking bow)
(similarly, while she puts her arm in Lind's)
(hides his embarrassment)
(seriously)
About someone who fulfills a sacred duty.
(with a smile over everyone)
Farewell! (muffled to Swanhild).
God bless you, my spring love;...
Wherever I go, my work will be with you!
(waves with his cap and follows the students).
(looks after him for a moment and then says quietly but firmly)
Now the leaves fall... now I belong to the world.
(At that moment dance music is played on the piano and champagne corks
pop in the background. The gentlemen with their ladies on arm wander
about; Goudstad approaches Swanhild and bows to her; she startles for
a moment but controls herself and offers him her hand. Mrs. Halm and
the nearest relatives, who have followed this scene in suspense, come
closer and surround the couple with words and signs of great joy, which
are nevertheless drowned out by the music and the merriment of the
dancers further in the garden.
But from afar and through the dance music from the heights sounding,
rings out strongly and firmly:)
But it is still so wonderful to sail!
(Dancing and cheering; the curtain falls).
But it is still so wonderful to sail!
(Dancing and cheering; the curtain falls).
Act One
DRAMATIC POEM IN FIVE ACTS
CHARACTERS
Brand. His Mother. Ejnar, a painter. Agnes. The Bailiff. The Doctor. The Dean. The Sexton. The Schoolmaster. Gerd. A Peasant. His Half-Grown Son. Another Peasant. His Wife. Another Woman. A Clerk. Clergymen and Officials. Crowd, Men, Women, and Children. The Tempter in the Wilderness. Choir of Invisible Beings. A Voice.
The action takes place in our time, partly in and partly near a fjord village on the west coast of Norway.
High up on the snowfields of the mountain range. Thick, heavy fog. Rainy weather and half-darkness.
BRAND (dressed in black, with a staff and knapsack, clambers westward. A peasant and his half-grown son, who accompany him, come after him).
(shouts to Brand)
Where are you?
It's so foggy today that one can hardly see farther than one's stick.
(shouts)
(listening)
Turn back... the ground is hollow and brittle... Stay! Your life is at stake!
(comes cautiously closer, persuading)
(softly)
(half weeping)
(stops and comes closer again)
(looks at him intently)
(scratches behind his ear)
(pulls him away)
(screaming)
(to the peasant who has grabbed him by the collar)
(wrestles with Brand)
(wrenches himself free and throws him down in the snow)
(gets up, rubbing his arm)
(in the fog)
(He goes back eastward with his son).
They stumble away... You weak slave, if a source of will welled up in your soul, if it were only strength that failed, I would shorten the way for you; dead tired, with wounded feet, I would have carried you lightly and gladly... But help is wasted on a man who also does not want what he cannot do. (comes further forward).
Life; oh, it's terrible how much good people love it! How every wretch clings to life, as if the fate of the world or the salvation of all souls rested on his scrawny shoulders. They want to sacrifice, oh, certainly! But their life, no, that must be spared! (smiles as at a memory).
As a boy, there were two things that made me double up with laughter, and also earned me a beating from the old schoolmarm, that grump. I thought of an owl that shunned the dark, and a fish with a fear of water. I laughed loudly, wanted to banish the image, but it clung to my mind... How did that convulsive laughter arise in me? Through a darkly felt chasm that separates things as they are from what things ought to be? Between that: that we must bear, and our burden proves too heavy...
And almost everyone here, sick or healthy, is like an owl or a fish. One, created for dark work, is also destined to live in night... and it is precisely that which he fears. He flutters anxiously along the shore, he shuns his own starry cell and calls for light and sunshine!
(stops a moment, starts, and listens)
The sun breaks through. The mist grows lighter. I can see the wide plains again. Over there stands the merry group in the morning light, on a high flower meadow; to the west the broad shadow falls. Now they take leave with a handshake. Now they part. The others turn eastward; westward go two: there they wave a last farewell with hats, veils, scarves, hands.
(The sun breaks through the mist more and more. He stands for a while looking at those coming up from below).
It's as if light radiates around those two, as if the mist tears open, the heath softly enfolds their feet and the sun smiles at them! Surely brother and sister, hand in hand, they hop over heather bushes. Look, the girl barely touches the ground, and he is as supple as a twig. There she runs away! She is gone again now, quickly he meant to catch her... Their running becomes a merry game... And listen, their laughter sounds like singing!
(Ejnar and Agnes, in light traveling clothes, both warm, with rosy cheeks, come playing over the height forward. The mist has lifted. A clear summer morning shines over the mountains).
(dances backwards in front of him and continually escapes him)
(Without seeing it, they have come to a steep abyss and now stand right at the edge).
(points upward)
(throws his arms around Agnes and laughs)
(waves her scarf)
(with fervor)
(stops and looks at him more closely)
(coolly)
(quickly and harshly)
(in a different tone)
(recoils)
(smiles)
(angrily)
(with an uncertain laugh)
(shakes his head)
(breaking off)
(turns around while Ejnar descends)
(defensively)
(Ejnar stands gazing silently after Brand)
Is the sun gone?
(pointing south)
(looks as if staring straight ahead and says:)
(without looking at him and muted as in a church)
(She descends the mountain path. Ejnar follows her).
BRAND (comes up the path, begins to descend and stops halfway on a projecting rock and looks into the depths).
Yes, I recognize the place again! Every boathouse, every hut, slopes and birch plantations, and the old brown church, alder groves along the water... I can remember everything. But everything seems grayer to me, smaller too, than when I was a child; and the snow cap on the mountain over there hangs even lower over the village, has taken another strip from the cramped sky, leans and threatens, makes darkness, presses... steals still more away from the sun.
(sits down and looks far ahead)
Weighs on me like a burden of oppression, that I too am still related to the spirit that seeks the earth, not the innermost being. What glorious things I have willed now float as in a mist. Courage and strength are taken from me, my soul is powerless, my grip weak; here so close to the old house again I see myself as a stranger... so awakens tamed, chained, Samson in Delilah's lap.
(looks again into the depths)
(stands up)
(makes to leave, a stone is thrown from above and rolls down the path to right in front of his foot).
(shouts upward)
(Gerd, a fifteen-year-old girl, is walking on the mountain ridge, her apron full of stones).
Swaying on a dry branch! (throws again and shouts).
There he comes again, wretched creature!
Help! Hoo! He's spreading his claws!
Stand still! Stand still! Now he flies away.
That one, with his crest slicked down,
And eyes rimmed in red and yellow!
(points down)
(laughs at him contemptuously and points down)
Farewell! (goes up the height).
That leads to a high, wild summit.
A church built of ice and snow!
As a boy I heard of it.
There among steep peaks
An ice cave must be found.
The ice church, I think it was called.
All sorts were told about it;
The floor is a frozen lake,
The roof is of avalanche snow
Stretched wide, from wall to wall,
As a vault over it.
Fine by me... it's still a church.
And the crust breaks; the vault collapses;
A shout, a shot is enough...
(without listening to him)
Has slid down there, only gets free
In spring, with the great thaw.
(points down)
Avalanche and waterfall sing there,
The wind preaches loudly over the ice field,
It makes you hot and then cold again.
And the hawk never comes in;
He lands on the Black Peak,...
There he sits, that gallows bird,
Like the weathercock on the church spire.
Like the sound of a cracked lute.
What is bad remains bad, in short,...
Evil can sometimes turn to good.
Now I'm going away and quickly home!
In that church I am safe...
Farewell! There he comes, furious again!
Go away! I'm throwing stones, you hear!
If you strike at me, I'll strike back! (flees up the mountain).
In the valley,... or above, who does best?
Who rushes forward with wild speed,
Who wanders farthest from home and hearth,...
Levity crowned with green,
Dancing playfully along the abyss,
Or sluggishness, slow and plodding,
Because that's how it must be,...
Or wild and far-reaching error,
That it mistakes evil for good?...
Well then, to battle, to bitter battle,
That triad be doomed to death!
I see my calling, shining, proud,
Like sunlight falling through a chink!
I know my task; that triad must
Be destroyed, and the world's woe atoned.
When it is laid in the grave,
The world's plague will cease from this generation!
On, soul! Seize the bright sword! With might
To battle for the heavenly offspring!
(he descends to the village).
END OF THE FIRST ACT
Second Act
Down at the fjord, enclosed by steep mountain walls. On a small
height close to the fjord lies the old dilapidated church. A storm
is approaching.
People, men, women and children, partly on the shore,
partly gathered in groups on the heights. The Bailiff sits on
a stone in their midst. A clerk assists him in distributing
corn and provisions. Ejnar and Agnes stand a little further away,
surrounded by a crowd of people. Several boats lie on the sand
left dry by the ebb tide. Brand comes down from the church hill without
being noticed by the crowd.
(forces his way through the crowd)
(pushes her aside)
(pushes forward to the Bailiff).
There are four or five gasping there!
(jokingly)
No;... yes, after all. That's your luck. (to the clerk).
Give number thirty his share...
Yes, good people, be patient!
Nils Snemyr?
Only three-quarters of what you usually get.
There are fewer now.
Just yesterday my wife Ragnhild died.
(makes a note)
But don't go right away again
Get into a second marriage!
(chuckles)
(sharply)
His Honor is so funny today.
But jesting sometimes drives away a tear.
(comes forward from the crowd with Agnes)
My purse, my wallet, everything empty!
I come aboard like a beggar,
Take my watch as a pledge.
What I could collect is not much;
That doesn't go far, you can imagine,
Where an empty hand, a half-full mouth,
Still must give up their bit
To those who have nothing to eat.
(catches sight of Brand and points to him).
Of famine and flood,
Then open your purse and knapsack.
We gladly accept everything.
The supply is almost exhausted;...
Five little fish don't make a meal
In this poverty-stricken wilderness.
In the name of an idol, do not help.
For an empty stomach, words are stone.
So long in bitter famine.
A year of disasters, Brand, and woe,
There lie dead...
From all those sunken eyes
Speaks the punishing judgment from above.
(steps among the crowd and says emphatically)
And dragged slowly with daily hardship,
I pitied the struggle for bread.
He who must crawl on his knees
Feels the beast awaken in his soul.
When the days pass dull and quiet
Like a funeral procession, slow, step by step,
One easily thinks: oh, we
Are erased from the Lord's book.
But He showed Himself good to you,
He drove fear of death into your blood,...
And scourges you with terror and fright;
What He gave you, He takes back...
(interrupt him threateningly)
(shakes his head)
Quench you like a fountain of life,
I would let it flow like a stream,
Until every vein was dry and empty.
But it would be a sin to help here!
God wants to lift you from the mire;...
A true people,... though scattered and weak...
Draws marrow and strength even from misfortune;
The spirit becomes clear, rises up,
The veiled eye grows sharp of sight,
The weak will becomes strong and bold,
Sees victory in the offing;
But if need begets no noble mind,
Then the people are not worth their salvation!
It's as if his word has lured it!
With stones! Kill him, the brute!
(The crowd presses threateningly around Brand. The Bailiff steps between
them. A woman, wild, with torn clothes, comes hastily down from the height).
(calls out to the crowd)
The worst fate has befallen me!
Where can I find a priest?... Help and comfort!
Oh, that I had never been born!
(comes closer)
(seizes his arm)
Three children starving... nothing in the house,...
Say no, say no,... he is not damned!
No one helped us, no God helped us.
The youngest struggling with death...
He could bear it no longer... struck it dead...!
(appalled)
He looked with horror on his deed!
Remorse rose like a flood;
And he laid hands on himself...
Come, save his soul, despite storm and current!
He cannot live, fears death,
With the little corpse in his arms he lies there
And screams and calls on the Devil!
(quietly)
(pale)
(shortly to the crowd)
That is no longer passable;
I came along it, but the water swept
The plank away right behind me!
The tide sweeps over rock and shore!
(points to the opposite shore)
The whole fjord full of dust and smoke.
The Provost himself would absolve you of duty!
Waits not for weather, or wind, or tide! (goes down to the boat
and hoists the sail).
Will you risk the boat?
But mine is aboard with me!
(wringing her hands)
(calls from the boat)
To bail the water, handle the sail,
Is enough. Come, give more
Than you already did, give your very self!
(stepping back)
(threateningly)
That is tempting the Lord too far!
BRAND (clings on with the boat hook and calls to the strange woman).
Good; you come then; but come quickly!
(stepping back)
(laughs)
AGNES (turns quickly to Ejnar with flushed cheeks, lays her hand on
his arm and says:)
O Ejnar, do you hear?
Look! Here is someone! He is worthy
To go with you for the holy work!
(pale)
I was blind before, now I see clearly!
Dedicated myself to death with him...
(trembling)
I cannot now!
(stepping back)
(with a cry)
Between us has arisen with stormy force
A wild ocean! (to Brand).
I will come with you!
(upset as she jumps into the boat)
(grasps after her in despair)
(comes running)
(points)
Yonder, high up, behind that black cliff!
(The boat pushes off from land).
(calls after her)
Oh, save yourself!
(The boat sails out. The people gather on the heights and watch it
with great suspense).
He's already got it behind him!
His wet hair flies in the wind!
That cry that cut through the storm?
(points to the height)
She laughs and cheers from above!
And throws stones downwards!
And trumpets through her hollow hand!
That man will withstand your arts!
Go along in worse weather.
(to Ejnar)
He may be,... he is a man!
In him there is courage and strength and pride.
(They disperse over the heights).
(gathers his books and papers)
To meddle in that affair,
And without necessity to intervene,
To risk one's life,...
I do my duty too, to be sure,...
But always within my district.
(exit).
still and bright.
Agnes sits down on the shore. Shortly after, Brand comes out of the door.
Fear and dread of the Judgment,
He now lies with calm features
Quiet and serene,
How can a thin illusion
Turn night into such a day
Of his hellish crime he saw
Only the outer side,...
That which can be expressed,...
That which hands can grasp,...
Which presses its brand on his name,...
His offense against the dead child.
But the two, who full of fear
Staring with wide eyes,
Like cowering birds,
Crouched in the chimney corner,...
Only saw how he acted
Without understanding what,...
They, whose soul was made a stain
Branded there, never to be erased,
Which does not wear away with time,
Even if they one day become graybeards,...
They whose life stream must flow
From that terrible memory,...
Who in the shadow of his misdeed
Must grow, become human,...
Never the gruesome vision
Can burn out of their brains...
Those two he could not think of,...
Not of them, to whom he left his inheritance,
The fateful one,...
And from them perhaps will issue
Many still to sin and guilt...
Why? Unfathomable word:
They are children of his blood!
What is erased in silence?
What made even with gentle hand?
Where does accountability begin
For the parents' spiritual inheritance?
What a judgment day, what a judge,
When once the day of Judgment comes!
Who shall judge, who bear witness,
Where everyone is guilty;
Who dares show there the old
Worn-out document?
Will the answer then be accepted:
All guilt lies with my father?...
Dizzyingly dark riddles,
No one can solve you!
But the mass, without thinking,
Dances on the brink of the abyss.
All souls should tremble,...
But not one in a thousand sees
What a mountain of guilt accumulates
From the little word: life.
(Several men from the people appear from behind the house
and approach Brand).
But inside there are still three...
Were given, here is something for them...
Then know, you have given nothing.
Had suffered want today,
Called for help from his boat,
I would have risked my life for him.
From sunshine and starlight;
Do not look, as now, with your left eye
Upward, while you turn the right
Toward the mire, where with bent back
You press the yoke on your own shoulders.
To free ourselves from the yoke.
And shown us the way before;...
They pointed, but you walked that way.
As much effect as one deed.
We come here in the name of the village;...
What we lack is precisely a man.
(restlessly)
As our minister.
you know that we are without one?
The village here was large, now it is small.
Misery came with crop failure,
Through diseases both people and livestock died,
And poverty struck everyone down;
Need sang every soul to sleep.
Then food became scarce and expensive here...
And we lost our minister!
A heavy duty rests upon me.
For me, life's pressure moves,
For me, the world's open ears.
What should I do here? Here among rocks
Imprisoned, the voice has no power.
Its sound lasts longer.
When the wide land beckons and calls?
Who goes to plow sand and stone
When fertile land lies at hand?
Who wants to harvest fruit from pits
When young trees stand full of fruit?
Who toils away in daily drudgery
When the light of a Seer glows within him?
(shakes his head)
(blocks his way)
The calling that awaits you yonder,
So precious then?
Is that work to me!
If you gave everything,... but not your life,
Then know, you have given nothing.
That is one's innermost self.
One may not bind the stream, lead it,
Nor stem the spirit's calling drive,...
It will go on, toward the great sea.
As dew it still reaches the sea.
(looks at him sharply)
When the wild sea swept over the land,
You, defying storm and sea, entrusted your life
To a thin plank,
For a poor sinner's soul in need.
Then many a soul trembled,
Now cold, now warm, like sun and wind;
Then it was like awakening bells...
Perhaps by morning all is gone;
Then we lower the festive flag
That you have hoisted for us.
He who cannot be what he must,...
Let him then be in earnest what he can;
Let him be wholly a man of this earth.
(looks at him a moment and says:)
Woe to us, to whom the light briefly rose!
(He goes away; the others follow him silently).
(looks after them for a long time)
The quiet troop goes home.
Heavy heads, sluggish feet,
Dragging themselves wearily and sadly;
Each as if burdened with grief,
Walks as if threatened with a rod,
Walks like all mankind's father,
Once driven from Paradise,...
Walks, like him, with guilty forehead,
Stares, like him, into darkness,...
Bears, like him, acquired knowledge...
Of his blindness the loss;
People I wanted, overbold,
Create new and whole and pure;...
That... an image of guilt-consciousness,
Not of God... have I brought forth...
Away to wider horizons,
For a hero there is no room here!
(he is about to go, but stops as he sees Agnes sitting on the shore).
See her sitting there listening,
As if she heard harp tones.
Listening she sat in the boat too,
When it cut through the surf,...
Listening she clung fast,
Listening she shook the spraying
Sea foam from her pure forehead,
It is as if she does not listen with her ears
But with her eyes. (approaches her).
Are they, girl, perhaps the bends
Of the fjord, that your eyes follow...?
(without looking around)
Both are hidden from my eye.
But a greater world I see,
Clear white arching against the blue.
Seas I see, broad streams,
Sunshine shimmering through mist;
See around cloud-wrapped peaks
Purple flames playing light;
See an endlessly barren plain,...
Tall palms bending, waving
Green crowns in the sharp gust,
Casting dark shadow from them.
Nowhere life... desolate and abandoned,
Like a world, new, in creation;
And I hear words sounding aloud,
I hear voices speaking to me:
It means your death or your deliverance;...
Carry out what I charge you:
To make this world live!
(carried away)
(places her hands on her breast)
I feel forces fermenting and pressing,
I feel springs surging and swelling,
I see a new day dawning.
Like a wide world spreads
From my heart, in all directions,
And I hear voices commanding me
To make this world live.
All my thoughts that shall become,
Every deed I shall do lives there,
Whispers, breathes, gladly awakening,
As if the hour of birth were past;
And I feel, more than I see yonder,
Him above rising,
Loving with deep sorrow;
Light and soft like the morning blush,
And yet sorrowful unto death;
And I hear words sounding aloud:
You must create and yourself revive;
It means your death or your deliverance...
Carry out what I charge you!
That is where it points. That is the direction,
The heart itself,... that is the world,
Which, reborn, is ripe for God;
Where the vulture of the will must die,
New Adam sees the light.
Let the world then go its way,
Under toil or song;...
But if we come into collision...
If my work threatens it,...
Then, by God, then I strike!
Room on the whole wide earth
To be wholly oneself,...
That is what every man may demand,
And I ask no other right!
(ponders a moment and then says:)
But one's inherited burden? (stands up and looks out).
Who is she who comes yonder
Stumbling over rough heights,
Bent and stiff, head bowed?
She stops briefly, panting,
Supports herself to keep from falling,
Grabs with her thin fingers
Hastily into her deep pockets,
As if she carried a treasure.
Around her meager, dry bones
Hangs loosely, like feathers, the dress;
Crooked like claws are her hands;
Looks like an eagle, nailed fast,
Hanging in a storehouse.
(suddenly alarmed).
What an atmosphere of the sad past
Quivers chillingly around that woman there,...
Quivers even more chillingly within me...?
Great God! It is my mother!
BRAND'S MOTHER (comes up, stops on the hill, half visible, holds her
hands shielding her eyes and looks around).
He must be here. (comes closer). Ugh, that sunlight!
The devil take it... it makes me half blind.
Son, is that you?
(squints)
It burns and stings the eyes;
You can't tell one person from another.
From autumn till the cuckoo called.
(laughs quietly)
You almost become an ice block yourself;
That makes you strong, and whatever you dare
You do and think it's all right.
As a boy you ran away from here...
It was necessary that you become a priest.
(scrutinizes him more closely).
But I beg you, now listen to my word,...
Take care of your life!
Only for this advice?
Follow it. But keep your life
For me; I gave it to you after all. (angrily).
It's widely known what you have done;
And it has made me deathly afraid.
At sea today! Recklessly to risk
What you should preserve for me.
You are the last of our family.
You are my son, my flesh and blood.
You are the keystone of the building
That I have erected piece by piece.
Stand firm, be strong; hold fast to life
Preserve it well! Do not forget yourself!
It is a duty for an inheritance to live,...
And you shall one day be mine...
And lure me with full pockets?
Stay where you are!
Don't come here! I'll hit with my stick! (calmer).
What did you mean by that?... Listen!
I'm getting old, and older every year;
That's after all the way to the grave;
Then you'll get all I possess;
It's counted and weighed out...
I have nothing with me!... Everything is at home
What I have. And it's not very much;
But whoever gets it is no beggar...
Stay where you are! Don't come here!...
I promise you I won't hide anything
In cracks, or bury
In places that no one knows,...
Or between stones, under floors,
In walls, hide anything...
You inherit, my son, alone,
The whole estate, without sharing.
Do not recklessly waste your life,
So that it may go well from son to son;
I demand no other reward.
And see to it that nothing is squandered;...
And nothing divided or liquidated;...
Increase your property or not;
But guard it, year after year!
(after a short pause)
From childhood I was at odds with you;...
You were no mother, I no son,
Until you were old and I a man.
Be what you want; it doesn't bother me,
Be hard, be rough, as cold as ice;...
It doesn't touch my cold clothes;
Just hold fast to your inheritance...
As long as it stays in our family!
(comes a step closer)
To scatter it to all winds?
(reels backward)
Bent my back and grayed my hair!
(nods slowly)
My soul to all winds as well!
If I one evening stand by your bed,
And candles burn around your deathbed,
When you, with the psalm book in your hands,
Sleep your death sleep the first night,...
If I then go rummaging, sniffing, searching,
And bring forth the whole treasure,...
If I then set fire to it...?
(comes closer in suspense)
And I could never forget afterwards;
Which pressed into my soul and stayed there
Like the iron arrowhead in a wound.
It was autumn and evening. Father dead.
You ill. I crept inside quietly,
Where he lay, pale, by candlelight.
I stood and stared from a corner
At him, with the psalm book in his hand;
The strangest I found was the deep sleep,
And his wrists become so thin;
And I smelled the scent of the cold shroud;...
Then I heard footsteps on the porch,...
A woman came in, did not see me,...
Went straight to the deathbed.
And groping she began to search;...
First lifted the head of the dead man,
There came bundles from under it,...
She counted, whispering: more, still more!
Then she dug from the bed pillows
A bundle, tied with ropes.
She tore, pulled, with wild jerks,
Bit the rope apart with her teeth.
Then she dug again. She found more,...
Yet counted, whispering: more, still more!
She wept, lamented, cursed, prayed,
Always seeking a trace of more...!
And if she found something,... with a shout of joy
She darted like a falcon at her prey.
At last every hiding place was empty.
Like a damned soul she slunk away,
Her treasure hidden in her apron.
And groaning softly: that's all then!
And that I had more than dearly paid.
My child's heart stole it from you.
You buy your goods with soul and blood.
I paid a high price at once;
I staked my young life.
I gave something now withered...
Something fleeting, I think, like sunshine,...
Innocent too, but still so beautiful;...
I gave what I hardly now remember,...
I believe it was called love...
I remember it well. My struggle was hard;
And I remember well my father's advice:
Forget that young man; take the other,
What does it matter if the fellow is a bit old;
The man has a good set of brains,
He can double his possessions!...
I took him, but got ingratitude in return.
He never made it that far.
But I have toiled for years,
So that it is now almost there.
That you sold your soul along with it?
That I let you become a priest.
When the hour comes, care for my salvation,
In gratitude for what I leave behind.
Mine is the hard-earned wealth,
And you have power and the comforting word.
You still saw me as I was at home.
With that kind of parental love
Many treat their children.
They see in the child only a manager
Of all their leftover junk.
A pale ray of eternity
Passes through their minds now and then.
Then they grasp for it and think
That they have caught it;
That death and life are then united
If the inheritance is preserved in the family,
And eternity, as a sum, becomes their share
Of the imposed series of years.
But accept your inheritance in time.
There is no debt.
There were debt,... would I have to take it over
And settle it all, and balance it.
A son must on his mother's grave
Satisfy all claims;
Even if the house were empty when I moved in,...
Still I inherited your debt book.
Written law with pen and ink;
But in every honest child's heart
Other laws are inscribed,...
And I will satisfy those laws.
Deluded woman, oh learn to see!
God's temple you have debased within you,
Your soul's lease you have squandered.
The earthly image that he gave you,
With mud and mildew you have smeared;
The spirit that once was winged,
You have clipped in the throng.
That is your guilt. Where will you go
When the Lord God demands his own?
(timidly)
Your son takes all your debt upon himself.
God's image, which you have trampled,
Shall in me, clear, refined, arise!
Go calmly rest among the dead,
My mother shall not sleep with guilt;...
I will cancel the debt.
Your soul's debt I will take upon myself;
But for your sins you must answer.
The sum of the human Being,
That perished in earthly drudgery,
Can by another's good will
Be fully repaid;
But that it perished is sin;
Only remorse helps there... or death!
(restlessly)
In the shadow of my glacier roof;
Here in this sultry sunshine
Poisonous thoughts sprout,
Whose scent makes one dizzy.
And when you feel your last hour come,
And you want me to bring you light,
Send for me, and I will come.
I will ward off fright and fears from you.
And at your bedside, with song,
I will quench the fever glow in your blood!
(closer to her).
But also one condition I have.
From whatever still binds you to earth,
You must voluntarily renounce,
And go to your grave without anything.
(strikes wildly at him)
The snow from frost, from water damp!
And pray that God may bless that deed.
But not what weighs heaviest of all!
Then even the lesser helps no one.
To die like Job, poor and naked.
(wringing her hands)
My money and goods soon scattered!
Home then, and clasp to my heart
All that is still my own!
My goods, my cherished child, my goods,...
For you I tore my breast bloody;...
Home now, where with mother's lament
I will keep watch by the sick child.
Why was I born in the flesh
If through the flesh my soul is lost?...
Stay near me, son! I still don't know
What I will do when my hour comes.
If I must lose everything in my lifetime,...
Then I will wait until the last, (exit).
(looks after her)
Wait for the hour of penance,
Will warm your old, cold
Hand, when it is stretched out.
(goes to Agnes).
Then my whole soul was full of fighting spirit,
Far off I heard battle songs,
I wanted to wield the sword of wrath,
Kill lies, stifle evil,
Yes, crush the whole world!
(has turned around and looks at him with bright eyes)
When I wanted lies and play;
Wanted to win, wanted to create,
What gain was to lose!
Flew by like wild swans,
Lifted me on broad wings.
Far off I saw my life's path,
As the constrainter of human guilt
In the bustling world's turmoil.
Saw processions' pious splendor,
Hymns, incense, silken banners,
Golden chalices, victory songs,
The jubilant cry of so many,
Shining around my life's task.
Everything lay so enticing, rich;...
But it was only a vision,
Only a shining distant view,
Half in sunshine and lightning's gleam...
And now I stand where evening descends
Long before the day is ended,...
Between high mountain and fjord,
Cut off from the world,
With a single strip of sky,...
But I stand on native soil.
The Sunday song is sung;
My warhorse is unsaddled;
Yet I see a higher goal,
Than a battle with the knight's sword,...
Toiling daily work, daily duty
Be ennobled to Sunday work.
But now secretly, quietly hidden,
Not publicly for all.
Clearly I now see that I erred,
When I expected salvation along that path.
No noisy, mighty action
Brings mankind to conversion.
Rich qualities to develop
Do not help its soul's ailments.
It is the will here that must do it!
Will kills or can liberate,
Will, wholly, in all things,
In the heavy as in the light...
(turns towards the village, over which the evening shadows
are already beginning to fall).
Come then, men, laboriously striding
Through the dark narrow valleys;...
Scarcely united in cooperation
Let us attempt the work of purification,
Strike down half-heartedness, smother lies,
Awaken young, strong will!
Lay hand to pick or sword,
Both are honorable, worthy of men;
The goal is one,... we must become
Tablets on which God can write.
(About to leave. Ejnar meets him).
(to Agnes)
Or this somber place of sorrow!
Think of what the old proverb says:
Light to lift, heavy to bear.
I must bear to the end.
I will write as soon as I find words.
Swift ships sail out;...
Like longings, dream thoughts,
High prows chase, flee,
Spray-sprinkled, to land,
Far away, in a fairy-tale land!
Think of me as if I were buried.
(shakes her head)
(silently)
(comes a step closer)
Wedged between mountains,
Under a shadowy roof of rocks,
In the half-night darkness of the crevices,
My life will henceforth be
Like a somber winter's day.
Stars break through the clouds.
I demand everything or nothing.
If you stray from the path,
Your life is as if ruined.
Do not hope to force anything from me,
No leniency for sin;...
If life cannot suffice,
You must voluntarily sacrifice that too!
Flee the man of that somber doctrine,
Live as you are able!
To go or stay is the choice.
Choose now between peace and worries,
Choose now between night and morning,
Death or life be your choice!
(stands up and says slowly)
Yonder dawn's red glimmers.
(She follows the path Brand took).
and goes back down the path leading to the fjord).
END OF THE SECOND ACT
Third Act
Three years later. A small garden enclosed by a stone wall next to the parsonage at the foot of a high mountain ridge. The fjord lies narrow and enclosed in the background. The house door opens into the garden. Afternoon.
Brand stands on the steps before the house. Agnes sits on a lower step.
Roams so anxiously toward the fjord...
Three years now I have trusted
And waited for a message that never came.
And tomorrow, I was told,
Her hour may perhaps have struck.
(softly and lovingly)
(shaking his head)
Then I have no word of comfort either.
Encourage her idolatry?
(smiles)
Your cheeks grow thin and pale;
You are too delicate for this climate.
Nothing thrives around our house
But ice and snowfall, rock and rubble.
So far has the glacier now reached
That in spring, driven onward
To the valley, it strides over our roof,
And our house stands unharmed,
As in a vaulted water cave.
And shimmering on the mountain ridge yonder.
But even its foot never reaches here.
(looks steadily at him, stands up and says:)
A secret fear.
Speak! What is it?
But no, God would not do that to us!
God is good! My little lad
Will grow strong and sturdy through it.
Where is he now?
(looks inside)
He does not dream of misery and pain;
His little hand is chubby, thick and round.
(closes the door).
With you and him, peace and light came,
Illuminating all my daily work.
What was difficult, every sad hour,
Became light and joyful with you both.
With you, I never lost courage,
And his child's play gave me strength.
As a martyr I took up my calling,
But see how everything has changed,
How now happiness shines on my path...
You have struggled and endured,
Been patient, suffered, worn yourself out;
I know that you have often wept in silence...
With you, love entered here,
Like warm spring sunshine.
I had never learned to know it before,
Neither father nor mother gave it to me.
They rather extinguished the single spark
That now and then flared up from the ashes.
It was as if all the treasure of warmth
That I silently carried within me
Was saved up for a glorious radiance,
For him and for you, my dear wife!
Who now belong to our household;
Whoever is sad, in need,
Whoever suffers or weeps, whether woman or child,
Everyone is refreshed, strengthened,
By what your rich soul offers them.
Of goodness, of gentleness, you brought me.
No soul can give love to all
Who has not first loved one single one;
I had to yearn and endure so long
That my whole heart became like stone...
Your caress often becomes a blow.
Light was what you gave me to bear;...
But many have already left you
Because of the 'all or nothing' that you demand!
I do not want and do not know.
I know only God's love,
And that is neither soft nor gentle;
It is hard as the terror of death,
And when it caresses, it becomes a blow.
What answer did God give in the garden,
When His Son in deathly fear prayed:
Take away this cup, my God!
Did He take away that cup of sorrow then?
No, child, He drained it completely.
No single soul can stand.
Yet it is written in flaming script:
Be faithful to the final test,
No half-measure wins the crown of life!
It is not enough to feel the sweat of fear,
You must undergo the fire itself.
That you cannot is forgiven you,
But never that you will not.
Oh, lift me up, that I may rise with you;
Oh, lead me to your lofty spheres;
Strong is my desire, but weak my courage.
Often fear grips me, I feel dizzy,
And weary and earthbound my foot drags.
The demand: no cowardly, weak half-measure!
Everything you do is condemned
If it is half-hearted or for show.
This teaching must become your law:
Not with words, but with life.
(throws her arms around his neck)
For two, no cliff is too steep.
(The doctor has come down the mountain and stops before the garden fence).
On these wild, gray rocks?
Oh, do come in!
(runs down and opens the gate).
You know, I'm still angry!
Coming to live here, in such a place,
Where snow and ice and winter storm
Cut through body and soul...
It's true, it almost looks as if
Your hasty bond rests on a firm, solid foundation;
Although, as the proverb says,
What is quickly built quickly decays.
Can sometimes wake a summer day.
I came trudging over the mountain,
Although I know that from her
No hungry fee will be left over.
Make, if you can, her death easy.
As soon as I was called in need.
I wait, and wait in soul's anguish.
I have nothing to do over there.
(to Agnes)
To the power of such hard hands!
If it could bring forgiveness for her soul!
All her debts voluntarily.
One can pay the debt of many.
Up to his ears in debt.
And more than that is not needed!
(looks at him steadily)
Stands finely and clearly recorded,...
But, Brand, your account of charity
Is a blank page. (exits).
(follows him with his eyes for a moment)
Into lies as much as love;...
They lay it with Satan's cunning
As a veil over weak will;
Deceitfully they cover with it
Their frivolous and vain life's game;
If the path is narrow and slippery and steep,
In love it is shortened for you;
If one goes the broad path of sin,
Hope for love still remains,...
One sees his goal but avoids the struggle...
Through love it will still be achieved;
And if you err, knowing better,...
In love you find a refuge!
Often ask myself: is it so?
Satisfies the law's thirst for justice.
First you must will, not only
What is possible in great and small,
Not only where the deed
Involves much trouble and difficulty,...
No, one must will strongly and gladly,
Through all terror and fears.
That is not martyrdom, to die
In pain on the cross,
But the willing of that death on the cross,
To will all that anguish and need,
To will all that soul-pain,
That first brings you deliverance.
(cuddles close to him)
Oh, speak then, you, my strong man!
Comes then the glory of love,
Then it descends like a white dove
With an olive branch, messenger of life.
But here, among the slack, lax people,
The best love is hate! (startled).
Hate! Hate! To will a world-struggle
Lies in this single short word!
(goes hastily into the house).
(looks through the open door)
And rocks his head as if he wept;
He presses himself against the little bed
Like one who knows no way out...
Oh, what a treasure of love dwells
In that strong man's soul!
Alf he loves, that he may, for the child
Is not yet defiled by sin. (springing up in terror).
He springs up... wrings his hands... Oh!
What does he see? He is deathly pale!
(outside on the steps)
(looks back into the house)
His temples throb, his pulses race...!
Don't be afraid, child!
I see someone!
(through the garden gate)
What is your message?
She sat up in bed, leaned forward
And said: go now and fetch the priest;
Half my property is for the church.
(recoiling)
(shaking his head)
I would not be delivering my message correctly.
She said that word. I am not mistaken.
(seizes his arm)
Before God that she said those words?
(firmly)
No priest will come, no sacrament.
(looks at him uncertainly)
It is from your mother that I come.
For strangers or for one's own people.
It was all or nothing.
Is still just as much an idol.
I'll bring her this lashing answer.
One comfort remains for her then:
That God is not as hard as you! (exits).
Breathed its pestilence through the world.
With lamentation of woe and grief
One silences the judge then.
Naturally! That is how it should be!
They have known him for so long;...
They know so well that all the time
The old one lets himself be chipped away at.
(The man has met another on the road outside; they come back together).
No priest and no sacrament.
(clenches his hands together)
One measure for one's own and strangers.
Come, send her a reconciling word.
(to the first)
For her I consecrate neither wine nor bread.
(The men go away).
(cuddles against him)
You glow like the flaming sword of God.
(with tears in his voice)
Hostile against me,
And wound my soul to the blood
With all its stubborn, lax resistance?
And see if anyone can satisfy.
So perverse, so stupid, so empty, so wicked,
Is all of mankind nowadays.
If someone disposes in his will
His money and goods, but anonymously,
One praises him straight to the skies.
Take away the name of many a hero,
Leave only what he achieved,
Do the same to emperors, princes,
And see what then remains.
Let a poet from his little cage secretly
Let his beauty-birds slip out,
So that no one thinks he gave them
A voice and golden feather-dress...
Grasp a green or a withered branch:
Sacrifice is found in no one.
Through everything the earth-slave thinking;...
Each clings in wild fear
To the weak tendril of his life.
If this fails him, where the abyss yawns...
He claws with his nails to hold on.
You still call to: all or nothing!
Who fell deepest must rise highest...
(pauses for a moment; with changed voice).
Make the demand to rise up,
It is as if I were on the waves
Drifting in stormy weather on a wreck.
Silently weeping, I have often secretly
Bitten my tongue, which had to chastise,...
And when I sometimes raised my arm to strike,
My soul yearns for an embrace!...
Go now and look at the little one;
Sing sweet dreams into his sleep;
A child's soul is clear and pure
Like the lake in summer sunshine;
A mother can glide over it
Like a bird, which in light flight,
Mirrors itself in its deepest depth.
(pale)
Wherever they go, always return to him?
(embraces her)
(looks at him clearly, and says:)
(goes into the house).
(looks silently ahead)
Is taught by "Abraham's offering" of old.
(shakes off the thought).
I gave up my life's dream,
To thunder like a rumble
To wake the sleepers here on earth.
No! In that there was no more sacrifice:
It fell away when the dream was over,
I was awakened by Agnes—to work together with me
In secret.
(looks out over the road).
Before she decides to repent,
Which would annul all guilt,
Delete all evil from her soul!
Wait!... No, it is only the Bailiff,
Benevolent, airy, round, healthy,
His hands in both his pockets,
Like hooks around a parenthesis.
(through the garden gate)
And perhaps I come at an inconvenient time...
(points to the house)
And if my word finds entry,
Then I think it will certainly
Be good for both of us.
Must be near death;...
That grieves me.
We all go that way,
And since I happened to pass by here,
I thought: I could just step in
To speak a single word with you.
To be brief, I have heard
That you, since you came here,
Have lived in discord with her...
Holds on tightly to her property.
That goes, you may think, a bit far.
Each one wants his own advantage.
She is in undivided possession
Of your entire paternal inheritance...
And since I can well imagine
That you see her end approaching
With great calmness of mind,
I hope that you will hear me
Without resentment, even if the time
Is not very suitable.
It is the same to me.
As soon as your mother is dead,
And sleeps quietly beneath the ground,...
And it will not be long now... you will be rich...
In every corner she has land,
As far as the armed eye can see.
I tell you, rich!
(smiles)
Where there are many heirs:
But here no one's share is threatened.
And asked for his inheritance from her property,
And said: it is mine by right?
Yes, look at me now... no one
Has a single word to say in this;
Trust me; I am well informed.
So it is; you will become well-to-do,
A rich man even; in this remote corner
You truly need not stay;
The whole country is open to you.
In short not this: go elsewhere?
For everyone. If you attentively
Observe the people, for whom you
Are the interpreter of God's holy word,
You must see how you here fit
Like a wolf among a flock of geese.
Understand me correctly! You have the gifts
To do good on a large scale.
But for these mountain people,
As if rooted between their rocks,
You do, I think, more harm than good.
For a man his birthplace;...
If he does not find his sphere of work there,
What he achieves is not much.
To go along with the country's needs.
Not as it does in the cramped village.
Not for the poor valley dwellers.
Of mountains and the low country!
You want the rights of the rich,
But shirk your duties;
And think, if you just cry out loudly:
We are only poor! then it is enough.
And each generation has its own duty.
Our village once contributed its mite
To the great treasury of history.
That was, of course, long ago;
But the mite was not so very small.
Now the village is insignificant,
Yet its fame lives on in legends;
Its days of former greatness fall
In King Bele's lifetime;...
One still hears mentioned many times
The brave brothers Wolf and Thor;
With many valiant men, who
To the coast of Britain journeyed
To plunder and overrun the land.
The South cried out, stiff with terror,
God, help us against their violence!
And those violent men were
Undoubtedly real, folks from here.
And how they then could take revenge
With murder and slaughter, burning and plundering!
Yes, there is one, of whom legend
Tells that he wanted to go on a crusade;...
But that he set out is not reported...
Descends a whole bunch of sons?
But how do you know...?
That troop of heroes seems familiar to me,
Promise-heroes of the present,
Who also undertake such a crusade.
But at King Bele's time we were!
First then rampaged in the foreign land;
Then we visited blood relative
And neighbor with axe blows.
The field trampled, the harvest destroyed,
Set fire to church and house,
Thus we wove ourselves a hero's wreath.
Of all the blood then shed
Much was later boasted.
But, after what I have now said
I believe, with modesty,
We may point to our power
In heroic times, long ago,
And say that our village once
Contributed its share with fire and sword,
To the struggle for development.
To the word: nobility imposes obligations,...
As if with harrow, hoe and plow
You quietly bury Bele's heritage.
At a municipal dinner,
Where I, the sexton and the judge
Sit in places of honor.
Then you will see, when the punch bowl comes,
That Bele is not yet forgotten.
With clinking, toasts, singing,
In short toasts and long toasts,
He is remembered, kept alive.
I myself have often felt the urge
Within me to weave for him
A flowery garment from fancy,
And that has edified many.
I rather like a bit of poetry.
We all do that, by the way,
Here in our village;... but always with moderation...
Life must never be ruled by it,...
Only between eight and ten
O'clock in the evening, when tired from work,
And free again from the day's task,
One longs for some elevation.
What makes you different from us
Is that you want to plow and mow
At the same hour, and by force.
You want, as I understand,
That idea and life should be one,...
You want, with the laborious cultivation of the land,
To unite the struggle for God,
So intimately one, as coal, saltpeter,
And sulfur unite to form gunpowder.
In wider circles that goes better;...
Go there with your high demands
And leave us to plow land and sea.
Your boasting of the fathers' fame;
A dwarf does not become taller by it
Even if he descends from Goliath.
But you use their grave only
To hide your own laziness.
You would do best to go away.
Your labor will not thrive here;
Your life's teaching is not understood.
Elevation, which may sometimes be necessary,
The little bit of comfort he needs,
Who day after day toils in labor,
I will faithfully provide them in future.
During my entire career
Here, I always did my duty;
The population has more than doubled,
Yes, it stands almost as three to one,...
While I have united more than one enterprise
With this fjord district.
Always in struggle with the harsh climate,
We have progressed as if by steam:...
Here runs a road, there lies a bridge..
So that people can reach each other,...
About that everyone agreed
Before you, as teacher, came here.
You have in our pale twilight
Made a Northern light flare brightly;
Who can now see in the false light
What is wrong and what is right,
What is punishment, and what penance or pain?
You have muddled everything together;
And the people, who were one, had to conquer,
Split into two hostile camps.
One does not choose the place for his work.
He who has his goal before his eyes
Once saw in fiery letters
God's word: here is your place!
I like to see you cleanse people
Of sin and evil, as occurs here;
God knows it is often necessary!
But do not make every working day
A Sunday,... and do not show a flag
As if God himself were on board
On every yacht in our fjord.
I would have to betray my soul.
But it is precisely a matter of being oneself,
To fulfill one's own calling,
And that I will do to the end,
So that a light shines around my house!
This people, who have dozed off
Under your rule, I will wake again!
For long, by need and coercion,
His last primeval strength has been drained;
From your pettiness's hunger cure
Each emerges weak and limp;
His best blood has been tapped,
The marrow scraped from his courage;
Every soul shredded to tatters,
Which should have stood firm as bronze;
But still a cry of revolt can
Thunder in your ears: fight!
You will fall as the first victim!
That defeat here was victory!
Do not stake everything on one card.
Then your life is also ruined.
You have all you could desire,
Is the inheritance of a rich mother,
You have a child to live for,
A dear wife;... happiness and joy
Is reached out to you with a generous hand!
On what you call happiness and joy?
If I must?
If you, in this remote corner here,
Want to begin your world-struggle.
Travel south to the rich shores,
Where a man can be wholly himself.
There you can let your light shine
And let the congregation bleed;
Our sacrifice is not blood, but sweat,
In bread-struggle between rock and ice.
And from my home I wage war.
And most of all what you let go!
(smiles)
MAYOR: Quite possible, yes... but I the most. (Exit.)
(Looks after him.)
BRAND: There goes a typical man of the people, quite upright in thought, very well-meaning, in his way industrious, warm and fair... And yet a scourge to his land. No landslide, storm or flood, no famine, no frost or plague, causes half the misfortune that such a one does, year in, year out. Those disasters only harm life... But he...! How much cheerful willing, how many thoughts he extinguishes, how many a powerful song is stifled by such oppressive, petty actions! How many a smile on the lips, how many a ray of light in a soul, how much joy and sorrow of exaltation, he has hardened, quenched, killed!
(Suddenly alarmed.)
BRAND: Why doesn't the messenger come!.., is no one coming? Yes, the doctor! (Hurries to meet him.) My mother? Speak!
DOCTOR: Now she stands at last before her judge.
BRAND: Dead!... Penitent?
DOCTOR: I don't believe it; she clung to her own here on earth until the hour of parting struck.
(Looks silently and moved before him.)
BRAND: Is a straying soul lost here?
DOCTOR: Perhaps the judgment is merciful, not according to law, but by grace.
(Softly.)
BRAND: What did she say further?
DOCTOR: She murmured: God is not as hard as my son!
(Sinks down in grief on the bench.)
BRAND: Burdened with guilt, in the agony of death, each one clings to that lie!
(Hides his face in his hands.)
(Comes nearer, looks at him and shakes his head.)
DOCTOR: You want a long-past time to live again in everything. You still believe that the ancient covenant of God and men still exists... But each generation has its own way; ours no longer fears hell, damnation and old wives' tales... The chief commandment is: be humane!
(Looks up.)
BRAND: Humane! Yes, exactly, that weak word sounds throughout the whole world! With that each coward strikes you dead if he dares not, or cannot, or will not; with that every wretch wraps himself up when he dares not risk everything; protected by it, one now breaks every vow soon regretted... You dwarf-souls make at last of every man a humanist! Was God humane toward Christ? If your God had reigned then, Jesus would not have been nailed to the cross... And the whole work of atonement would then become a clever piece of diplomacy!
(Hides his head and sits down in silent sorrow.)
(Softly.)
DOCTOR: Rave on, rave on, O soul in revolt... The best would be if you could weep.
AGNES (has appeared on the stairs, pale and frightened, whispers to the doctor). Oh please! Come with me!
DOCTOR: You make me anxious, what is it, child?
AGNES: A cold fear of death struck me just now around the heart...!
DOCTOR: What is it?
(Draws him away.)
AGNES: Come!... the child, oh God!
(They go into the house; Brand does not notice.)
(Quietly to himself.)
BRAND: Dead, unreconciled. Dead, as she lived. Is that not a sign from God? He now demands from me the toll that she failed to pay... Now woe three times to me if I yield! (Stands up.) Now, from this moment, unshakable, to fight as a chosen warrior, that spirit may conquer the flesh. God gave my tongue the power of the word, kindled his wrath-glow in my soul... Now I stand in my full strength, now I dare, now I can break rocks!
(Followed by Agnes, comes quickly down the stairs and calls out.)
DOCTOR: Pack up your things and move out!
BRAND: Even if the earth quaked, I would remain here!
DOCTOR: Then your child is doomed to death.
(Aghast.)
BRAND: Alf! The child! My Alf! What do you mean? What specter threatens my child! (Wants to go into the house.)
DOCTOR: No, stay!... Here there is no light, here there is no sun, the air is sharp as the north wind... Here hangs a clammy and heavy mist... One more winter in this place and the tender life will wither. Leave, then your child is saved; but do it quickly, preferably tomorrow.
BRAND: Today, this evening, at once! Oh, he will become strong and healthy again... No glacier snow, no sharp wind, will torment his little chest here. Come, Agnes, take him up gently! Then we flee in all haste! Oh, Agnes, it is death that spins its pale veil around our child!
AGNES: I feared and trembled for danger... yet I thought it not so near.
(To the doctor.)
BRAND: Flight can save him? You swear that?
DOCTOR: A life that is well guarded by fatherly love runs no danger. Devote yourself to him, and fear not, soon he will become healthy and fresh again.
BRAND: Thanks! Thanks! (To Agnes.) Pack him up especially well above all; the evening wind blows along the fjord.
(Agnes goes into the house.)
DOCTOR (takes Brand silently in, who immovably looks through the door inside, then goes to him, lays his hand on his shoulder, and says:) Pitiless toward poor humanity, and for yourself so very tender-hearted! For others counts little or much... only the all, then, or nothing; but one's own courage is soon fled, as soon as fate has designated one's own treasure as a sacrificial lamb.
BRAND: What do you mean to say?
DOCTOR: Harsh words you have thundered at your mother, damned, if she did not give everything, if she did not descend naked into the grave. And the same word sounded many a time where much and deep was suffered! Now your own boat drives in storm on the waves of fate at sea, now from the overturned keel you quickly throw the burden of guilt overboard... Away, overboard, the heavy book with which you yourself struck the brethren; now the matter is, in a stiff breeze, to seek salvation for your own offspring. Quickly away from here, from storm and fjord... quickly away even from your mother's corpse... quickly away from soul-care and work... now the priest ceases his office!...
BRAND (grasps his head in despair to collect his thoughts). Am I blind now? Was I before?
DOCTOR: As a father you certainly do right. Do not think that I disapprove of what you do... To me, now broken, you are much greater than the strong hero... Farewell! I held the mirror before you; look into it once, and sigh: my God, that is what a witness of God looks like! (Exit.)
(Stares before him for a moment, then suddenly bursts out.)
BRAND: Where did I go wrong? Now, or before?!
(Agnes comes out of the door with a cloak around her shoulders and the child on her arm; Brand does not see her. She wants to speak but stands as if paralyzed with fright when she sees the expression on his face. At the same moment a man comes hastily through the garden gate. The sun is setting.)
THE MAN: Brand, listen, you have an enemy here!
(Presses his hands to his chest.)
BRAND: Yes, here!
THE MAN: Beware of the Mayor. Your work here was fruitful, until he poisoned it with gossip! Often he has spread that your house would soon stand empty... said that you would leave us, as soon as your rich mother died.
BRAND: And if it were so?
THE MAN: I know you, after all, and know why he tells that; you stand against him, have never bowed to his will... That is the reason for his grudge...
(Hesitatingly.)
BRAND: Perhaps he spoke the truth.
THE MAN: Then you have always lied to us?…
BRAND: I?
THE MAN: Yes. Have you not told us that God himself had chosen you to live here among us; that you would wage your struggle here, that no one may shirk his task, that he must stand, but never yield? That task is yours! Warm and bright, your fire glows in many a breast.
BRAND: No, the ear of the multitude is deaf; nearly every soul is dull and sluggish!
THE MAN: You know better... the heavenly light already breaks through in many a soul here.
BRAND: But in most it is still night.
THE MAN: You are like the light that shines at night. But let it be as it may; it does not depend on numbers here; because here I stand, a single man, and say: go away then if you can! My soul is full, though I know little of what stands in the books, you have lifted me out of nothing... see if you can let me go now! You cannot; I hold you fast; I would lose my soul if I let go my grip!... Farewell! I await the news comforted! Neither you nor your God can let me go! (Exit.)
(Timorously.)
AGNES: Your cheek is white, your mouth is pale, as if you had pain in your soul.
BRAND: Every ringing word I once spoke strikes back now like an echo.
(Comes a step nearer.)
AGNES: I am ready.
BRAND: Ready? For what?
(With force.)
AGNES: For what a mother may and will!
(Gerd runs past on the road and stops by the garden wall.)
(Claps her hands and shouts wildly and joyfully:)
GERD: Did you hear it already? Away flew the priest!... In the mountains, on the rocks, swarms of mountain goblins, black, wild, large and small... Hooh, what a throng beat them...! Tore my eyes almost out, half my soul fell as their prey... Oh, I can manage with half, I still have enough left of the wreck!
BRAND: Child, you are raving, don't you see that I am standing right in front of you?
GERD: You? Well yes, but not the priest! From the Black Peak my hawk flew straight down the slope, angry and wild, with harness and saddle, he cut the morning wind snorting; and a man sat on his back... That was he, that was the priest! Now the village church stands empty, the lock closed and the tree before it. It's over with the nasty little church, and now my church comes to honor, where my priest preaches and sings, strong and tall, in the white chasuble woven by the winter frost... Do you want to see him? Come along then, words my priest speaks, that ring throughout the whole world!
BRAND: Ill-fated child, do you want to lure me with bewildered idolatries?
(Comes into the garden through the gate.)
GERD: What is that, idolatries? An idol? Oh, I know it already; sometimes large and sometimes small; always gold and pretty and colorful. An idol! Listen, do you see HER there? Can you recognize under the clothes little hands, little legs? Don't you see how pretty and colorful all those wrappings enclose something? It looks like a child sleeping peacefully, she steps back anxiously... covers it! An idol? Man, THAT is an idol!
(To Brand.)
AGNES: Do you have tears and prayers? Fear has driven everything away from me!
BRAND: Agnes,... woe! I think I feel that a higher power sent her!
GERD: Listen now, all the bells are ringing up on the wild peak! Look what a crowd is moving there, to my church in the ice vault! Do you see all those goblins that the priest drove into the sea? Do you see all those dwarfs that lay buried until now? And the stone he had sealed. Neither sea nor grave can hold them any more, see them cold and chill swarming... Children, seeming dead, I see crying, rolling boulders away from themselves. Father! Mother! they cry! Men, women rush up. Look, the peasant walks in the midst of a whole procession of sons; and his wife lays the dead child to her breast to revive it... Never yet did she carry her head so high as when she held the child for baptism. Priest gone... then came life!
BRAND: Depart from me! I soon see worse specters...
GERD: Listen! He laughs, he who sits by the road there, he who ascends to the top, and he writes in his book every soul that went up... Ha, he has almost all of them; the little church stands empty there, the lock closed and the tree before it... On the hawk fled the priest!
(Jumps over the garden wall and disappears among the rocks.)
(A silence.)
(Comes nearer and says in a subdued voice:)
AGNES: Let us go; now it is time.
(Stares at her.)
BRAND: Where are we going? (Points first at the garden gate, then at the house door.) There?... or there?
(Steps back frightened.)
AGNES: Brand, your child!...
(Follows her.)
BRAND: What was I earlier? Tell me, servant of God or father?
(Steps farther back.)
AGNES: Even if God himself asked me that question... I will never decide!
(Follows her again.)
BRAND: Speak as a mother: may I go? You have the last word here!
AGNES: I am your wife; if you command, I will be obedient and bow.
(Wants to seize her arm.)
BRAND: Take that cup of choice from me!
(Steps back behind the tree.)
AGNES: Then I would not be a mother!
BRAND: A judgment lies in that word!
(With force.)
AGNES: Ask yourself: do I have a choice?
BRAND: Still stronger the judgment sounds!
AGNES: Do you feel yourself chosen by God?
BRAND: Yes! (Grasps her hand firmly.) And now you must also say the word of life or death!
AGNES: Go the way that God commands!
(Pause.)
BRAND: Let us go; now it is time.
(Tonelessly.)
AGNES: Which way then?
(Silence.)
(Points to the garden gate and asks.)
AGNES: That?
(Points to the house door.)
BRAND: No,... that!
(Raises the child high in her arms.)
AGNES: God! This sacrifice that you demand I lift proudly to heaven! Lead me now through the night of life! (Goes inside.)
BRAND (stares before him for a while, bursts into tears, clasps his hands above his head, lets himself fall on the steps and cries out:) Jesus! Jesus! Give me light!
END OF THE THIRD ACT
Fourth Act
Christmas Eve in the parsonage. The room is dark. Door at the
back. On one side a window, on the other a door.
Agnes, dressed in black, stands by the window and looks out into
the darkness.
Oh, how hard it is to wait,...
To silence the soul's longing
That calls for him, without answer!
Soft and thick the snow falls silently,
Has like a blanket of down
Wrapped the old church in white... (listens).
Wait! I hear the gravel crunch!
Firm steps; a man's step;
(rushes to the door and opens it).
(Brand enters, covered in snow, in a traveling coat, which he removes
during the following).
(throws her arms around him)
Don't go away again! Don't go away again!
When I'm alone I can't escape
The dark, gloomy specters!
What nights, what days
Those two have been for me!
casts a faint glow in the room).
You're pale.
I've longed and watched...
And tied some greenery together,...
A little! What I grew myself,
And saved from the summer,
To decorate the Christmas tree.
The little bush was meant for him;
And he got it too... as a wreath! (bursts into tears).
Look, now the snow lies high on
Him... oh God...
My whole soul still bleeds
From a freshly struck wound,
All my willpower has vanished;...
Oh, it will get better;
Once these days are over
You'll never hear complaints again.
Think how it was last year,
And from this year already carried away...
To the... (shudders at the word).
(firmly)
(with a cry)
I must name it when you fear it!
I must name it, so it sounds
Like a wave against the wood!
You suffer under the cruel word;
On your brow I see the traces
Of the sweat it costs you.
Are only foam from the salt water.
A snowflake falling from the height?
No, oh no, that one is too warm;
Your own breast is the source!
Be strong, fight against the grief,
With united strength try
To overcome, slowly.
Oh, I was a man out there!
The water crashed over the cliffs,
The seagull dove fearfully,
Hail battered my boat,
Drove us on in the seething water,
Mast and rigging cracked whistling,
The jib tore to shreds, blew
Far into the foam off the channel,
Every nail screeched and creaked;...
Avalanches thundered repeatedly
From the heights, on both sides;
The eight men sat motionless,
Oars still, like corpses before me.
Oh, then I felt myself grow again,
I was the one who gave orders at the helm,
I felt that God himself consecrated me
To my work, the dearly bought.
Easy to fight in danger;
Oh, but think of me, sitting here
Quietly, with sorrow's sad crooning,
Who doesn't know how to pass the time
However much I'd like to;
Think of me, deprived of struggle,
Not spurred on by deeds;
Think of me, to whom only a simple,
Small task is given;
Think of me: I cannot forget,
Sit alone... may not remember!
Never was it so great as now.
Listen, I'll tell you something
That happened to me in sorrow.
Often my eyes grow dim,
My thoughts still, my soul soft.
Then it's as if there were joy
In being able to weep, weep.
Agnes,... then I see God
So near, as never before,...
So near, that it seems to me
I could approach him directly.
And I long to throw myself
Upon his bosom, as his child;
To feel myself firmly clasped
By his strong fatherly arm.
As the God so near you...
Less Lord, but more as Father!
The way for his own work;
I must see him great and strong.
Giant-great... that is what the present demands,
Precisely because it is so small itself.
Oh, but you can see him like that,
As a father gentle and tender,
Lay your head in his arm,
Rest, rest, if you are tired,
And go from him relieved again,
With his radiance still in your eyes,...
Bring his glorious light to me
Where I suffer, struggle.
You see, Agnes, to share like that
Is the core of true marriage;
One must fight, defend himself,
The other heal all wounds;
Only then can it rightly
Be called that the two are one.
Since you gave up worldly life
To become my wife,
To live your own life freely,
This task rests upon you;
I must fight, or I may fall;
Up to battle, in the heat of the sun,
Stand guard in night and cold,...
You must hand me the full
Cup of love, offering refreshment,
Wrap me in gentle tenderness
Under the armor, like a fleece;...
Oh, your task is no small one!
Is too heavy for my strength;
All my thoughts, all my senses
Converge on that one thing.
Everything is still like a dream.
Let me lament, let me weep.
Help me so to find again
Both myself and also my duty...
Brand, tonight when I was alone
He came into my room here;
Fresh and rosy was his cheek;
Light in his thin little dress
He came tripping there,
To my bed, where I rested;
Stretched out his little arms to me;
Called his mother with a laugh,...
But as if he begged for warmth!
Yes, I saw it! I shivered at it!
Oh, that must be so out there,
Lying on those cold planks!
The child himself ascended to heaven.
(recoils)
Mercilessly, relentlessly!
What you roughly call the corpse is still
Always my child to my heart.
Soul and body both fell,
And I cannot, as you do,
Separate those two from each other;
These two are one together;
Alf, sleeping under the snow blanket,
Is my Alf also from up there!
Before your sorrow will heal.
Lead me gently, but do not drive.
Stand by me and support me, Brand!
Say things gently, if possible!
You, who sometimes speak like God's thunder
In a high, solemn hour,
When a soul must itself bear
Stones for its life crown,...
Do you have no gentle tones
To quench the sharp grief?
With a single word that uplifts,
One that points to lighter days?
God, whom you taught me to know,
Is a king in his castle;
How would I dare approach him
With my small mother's sorrow?
The God you once knew?
And yet it is often as if I
Feel a longing to go there,
Where it is light, where the sun shines,
"Light to lift, heavy to hold,"
Was that not the old motto?
Your realms are too great for me,
Everything here is too great for me,
You, your work, your goal, your being,
All your willing, all your doing,
The overhanging, rocky mass,
And the all-enclosing water,
Winter darkness, strife and sadness,...
Only the little church is far too small.
(struck)
Does it now float in the air here?
How too small?
(shakes head sadly)
A reason, with reason.
Does not a mood come over one
Like a fragrant breath?
Where from? And where does it go?
It is enough that I perceive it.
And I know and feel it clearly...
Far too small is our church here.
So many I have met
Were full of that thought;
Even with her, who walks around
Half mad, it was also written,
"It is stuffy there, for it is small"
It sounded; she too could find no reason
For what she felt.
Many women later said:
Far too small is our village church!
This complaint from women's mouths
Points to a need for space...
Agnes,... oh, I see it so clearly,
You are chosen by God
To be an angel on my path;...
Quietly and surely, in the dark
You know exactly the way,
Where I alone lose the track.
Never could will-o'-the-wisp lure you;
The first day you already showed
Where my true kingdom should lie,...
Held me back, who wanted to rise
High to the blue firmament;
Made me look within myself,
Deep, into the deepest of my being...
Agnes, again you have spoken
The word that struck like lightning,...
Led me, where I wandered,
Shed light on my work.
The Lord's church here is small;...
Good; then we will make it large!
Never have I seen so clearly yet
What my Creator gave me in you.
Therefore I beg, just like you:
Do not leave me, I pray you!
I will dry my tears now,
I will lock all my memories
As in the dark grave;
And forgetfulness, like a sea,
Will flow over them;
I will erase every trace
Of my once-dreamed world,
Be a wife to you, and nothing more.
That he accepts the good will,
Even where strength sometimes fails. (makes to go).
(smiles)
Not neglect, least of all today.
Last year, you remember well,
You said I was wasteful.
The lights were lit in every sconce;
Green was here, and toys hanging,
With more pretty things, on the Christmas tree;
Here sounded joyful song and laughter.
Brand, now too I will again light
All the candles for the feast day;
It will become as beautiful as it can,
For the solemn, silent feast,
If God peeps into the room,
He will see punished children,
Who humbly and submissively,
Obediently know and understand
That they, though their father may be angry,
May not neglect his feast....
Do you see any trace of tears now?
(presses her to his heart and then releases her)
(smiles sadly)
Do it quickly... before spring! (Exit.)
(looks after her)
Amid the fire of pain;
Her strength sinks, her spirit flees,
Yet she wants to make the sacrifice.
Lord oh strengthen her, give her strength!
And relieve me of the task
Of making her, through bitter enforcement of the law,
As through hungry, wild vultures,
Suck the warm blood
From the tormented mother's heart.
I am strong, I have courage;
Lay on me the burden for both,...
Be for her alone merciful!
(There is a knock at the corridor door. The Bailiff enters.)
You know well, when last summer
I wanted to drive you out of the land,
I did not predict the best
Of the new battle plan between us...
I no longer wish enmity.
You attract people from far and wide;
Here, at least in recent months,
A spirit has come over the village,
Which, God knows, is not mine.
And from that I draw the conclusion
That it emanates from you.
Here is my hand, let us make peace!
Until one of us is defeated.
And amicable settlement, tell me?
I don't kick against the pricks;
I am only an ordinary man;
When the point of the enemy's spear
Is aimed at his chest, one gives up;
Against that a mere stick does not help;
Then it's better to clear the field quickly,
And if one stands deserted as a fighter,
Then it's wisest to yield.
First, that you call me the stronger;
I have the majority...
Comes to a great and serious sacrifice...
Who will have the power then?
You will never experience that here!
In the worst case, it comes down to
Their dipping into their pockets.
The times are humane and want
No more sacrifice of other things.
And the most troublesome thing in this matter is
That I myself belong to the number that
Pushed the humane to the forefront,
And thereby weakened the spirit of sacrifice,
So that one can now well say
That I sacrificed myself,...
In any case, I tied the twigs
Into a rod with which they now want to beat me.
But for the rest, I don't understand
That you give up already now.
Rod or no rod, that means nothing.
A man is made for his task;
His goal must be his Paradise!
And between that and him a sea may flow,...
If Satan's land lies near,
May he then cry: It's impossible...
The road to hell is much shorter?!
A man must land somewhere,...
And if he sees his futile efforts,
He looks for other ways.
It's the way it is, one wants compensation
For small work or for great labor;
And if one doesn't win it through honest struggle,
Then one tries indirectly to get it anyway.
To call something as white as snow,
When everyone now calls black as snow?
I don't say black, but rather gray.
Humane is the watchword; the people no longer want
To be handled roughly.
Consider, we are in a free country;
Here everyone's opinion counts.
How then could one man against all
Pronounce on black or white?...
In short, because you have the majority
You are the man who stands on top.
I join, like the others,
Now with you, as best I can,
And hope no one takes it amiss
That I did not fight to the utmost.
The people judge now, I see clearly,
My work as insignificant, trivial;
They consider one thing now more necessary
Than year after year increasing the harvest!
No longer willingly bears his share
Everyone where it must be,...
And if the will is not involved,
Then a matter is lost by itself...
It is hard, you can imagine,
To give up the plan for roads and bridges,
The draining of marshes, ponds,
And much more, now.
But, good Lord, what can one say,
Who cannot win must yield,
Wait patiently, wisely keep silent,
And hope everything from time.
Now,... I lost the favor of the people
As I had won it;
So I must now along other paths
Try to get mine back.
That you did all those works?
I wanted for the common good
For the village the best, that alone.
But I do not deny that at play was
Also hope for future reciprocation,
For well-done work, in time.
That's how it is: a working man,
With gifts and common sense,
Wants to see fruits of his labor,
Not go through life supported
For the sake of a high ideal.
Even with the best will I cannot
Be negligent for my own good,
And sacrifice all my strength to others.
I sit at home with heavy burdens;
I have a wife, several daughters,
My care is for them the most;...
Principles quench no one's thirst,
Principles still no one's hunger,
When one, like me, has the house so full;
And should anyone express surprise
At that, I say this:
That he is no good as a family man.
For the good of the village and myself.
First I want to rebuild my reputation,
Which I had here before;...
Election time is at hand;
So I take refuge in something grand,
Make the plan known in advance,
Then I'll soon be top dog again,
And the choice will likely fall on me again.
Now I thought... one cannot
Row against the stream.
The people want, as it's now called, elevation;
That is something I cannot keep up with;
I help them along a bit;
But such a thing must go amicably,
And everyone is against me now.
Look, that is why after mature consideration
I have come to the plan, if possible,
To fight the curse of poverty.
It is a necessary evil
Of society, and unavoidable;
But to be guided, limited
With skill, to certain forms,
If we only pay attention in time.
We know it, poverty is the manure
That best makes all evil thrive;
And that manure I want to limit.
Satisfying a deeply felt
Need of the whole surroundings,
I build for poverty a pest house;
Yes, a pest house, I say, with intention,
Since it must ward off infection.
To that building, my idea was,
A jail should be attached,
So that here cause and effect
Are locked up together,
But separated by a partition wall.
And if I'm already at it,
I also thought to build beside it
A wing... under the same roof...
With a hall for festivities, a gathering,
For serious or fun use,
With a rostrum and lots of space,...
A nice, political banquet hall.
But I know something, there is even more lacking.
Yes, certainly; that is also badly needed.
That was initially my thought,
But after some consultation with others
I came back from that idea;
For how to get the means
For such a huge building?
For believe me, such an institution would cost
An exorbitantly large sum,
If everyone who needs it
Must find accommodation there.
One must trust in time,
Not build only for oneself,...
With giant strides it went forward
Last year, this year not so;...
You see how all popular interests
Have grown tremendously;
With seven-league boots, as if bewitched,
Powers and talents develop,
In all possible fields.
It would therefore be an all too expensive joke
To provide for our descendants a place
For themselves, with children and wives.
And therefore I say: dear God,
That tooth, we just pull it out!
You still have the great hall.
(satisfied)
That idea, Brand, was really witty!
If the building plan does not fail,
Then we'll get the institution for free,
Gather under the same roof,
Protected by the same flag,
The genuine elements
That characterize our village;
There we have our paupers,
With all the scoundrel crew along,
Lunatics, who run loose and free
Without help or discipline,...
And then the fruit of our freedom,
Election struggle with clever speakers,
A council chamber where we deliberate,
What may serve for the good of the village,...
A banquet hall, where with full glasses
We happily commemorate our ancestors.
Thus if the matter doesn't fall through,
The son of the mountains gets everything
He can rightfully demand,
To live according to his own taste.
Alas, the region here is not rich;
But once that community house stands,
Then, I think, one can call it here
Rightly, a well-governed district.
In this matter as in most;
The willingness to contribute is weak,
And if you withhold your help
Then I can also strike my colors.
But if you support with your powerful word
My plan, then it will surely succeed,...
And once it comes to fruition
I will truly not forget you.
For both it would, I think,
The discord that like a chasm
Until now exists between us,
To our mutual benefit be able to bridge.
That has just wounded your fatherly heart;
Your calmness, however, made me venture;
And the need for firm support...
I am ready, where it may be necessary;
But for another reason you
Make this time a vain effort.
Look, do you see over there...?
That is your cow barn, isn't it?
(nods)
No one will touch the church;...
It is to put a spoke in my wheel;
My plan is ready and urgent;
But yours throws me out of the saddle;
And both at once, that won't work,...
So give in...!
With the pest house and the great banquet hall,
In short, the institution... so to speak,...
Who then asks about the dilapidated church?
And why must it be rebuilt now?
It was formerly large enough.
No space for elevation within.
(shakes head in wonder)
How necessary my madhouse is here.
(in a different tone).
Leave the church standing, let me advise you;
One can to a certain degree
Call it an old venerable heirloom.
It is an heirloom, inalienable,...
And it will not be destroyed for a whim!
Even if my building plan falls through,
I will, like a Phoenix from its ashes,
Rise again in the favor of the people here!
I will rise as the bold knight,
For the monument here on our shore!
Here was formerly a place of sacrifice,...
That was in King Bele's days;
And the church rose from that later
From pious heroes' plunder and spoils.
Venerable in its simple splendor,
Most holy in its ancient garb,
It stood proudly into our days...
Now rests long in the silent grave;...
Now not much of that remains.
That it actually no longer exists;
But when my grandfather still lived
There was still a hole in the wall!
Look, that is why I must say frankly,
Demolishing the church is impossible;...
That would be a shameful, a gruesome
Barbaric act without equal!
And the money,... where would that come from?
Do you think people here are so generous
For such an immature plan
To dip into their purses immediately,
As if with a bit of repair
One could still prop up the old one
So that it lasts our time?
But go and investigate yourself,...
I'll win my case in the end.
For money for the new house of God.
From my own means I want to build;...
My inheritance, all I possess,
I put at the disposal for that purpose.
Do you perhaps think now still so bold
That I will change my mind?
(with folded hands)
Such a thing hardly occurs in cities,...
And here in the village... where everyone
Kept such a tight grip on his purse
For what even was most urgently needed,...
Here you come with a torrent
That glitters and sparkles, sparkles, foams...
No, I must say, I am dumbfounded!
The money...
Of things that pointed to something like that.
But I thought they were just rumors.
Who wants to make such a sacrifice
Where it brings him no visible gain?
But that is entirely your own affair;...
If you go ahead now, I will follow.
You are in the fire now, you can work,
And I will come at a walking pace too...
Brand, let us build that church together!
I would be crazy if I didn't.
Who do you think has the people on his side,
When one wants to lead, feed them,
And the other milk, shear, pluck?
Yes, by thunder, I'll join!
I am already entirely filled with the plan,
Moved, stirred, touched;
It was a lucky coincidence that
Drove me to your house this evening;
For without mine perhaps
Yours would not have arisen,...
At least not come to light.
So it is after all my own work,
The building of that new church!
Ruins cannot remain standing!
(looks outside)
Of moonlight and fresh snowfall,
It looks very dilapidated.
It is truly inexplicable to me
That I never saw it before this evening.
The rafters are already crooked;
Use will soon become most dangerous.
And where is style, architecture?
Neither in the roof nor in the wall.
What should one call such arches?
A professional would say: appalling!...
And the green mossy roof also cannot
Date from King Bele's days.
No, piety can also go too far!
And everyone must understand,
That such a rickety, rotten box
Is a monstrosity, nothing more!
And declare themselves against demolition?...
I shall at once, the sooner the better,
Arrange and order everything,
So that the matter runs smoothly.
I'll work, write, and do my best.
Well, yes... you know me. Enough!
And if I cannot drive together helpers
For the demolition work from the stupid crowd,
Then I'll take it on with my own hands,
And break it down plank by plank myself.
Yes, if I had to have my wife and all my daughters
Help with the destruction work,
By God, I'd not leave a single pole standing!
From the one you used just now.
That is what humanity teaches us;
And if the poet is not mistaken,
Then it is actually a very fine thing
That our spirit is winged,...
In other words... it can fly...
Farewell! (takes his hat)
Now I must go to the gang.
Close to the village, I've rounded up
A band of Gypsies, ugly lot;...
I had a sturdy rope to help me;
Now they are trapped over there
In a house by the shore; but I'll be hanged
If a couple haven't run away...
But it's true, in a certain sense
They belong to this district... (laughing)
Yes, and precisely to you! Listen, a fine riddle,
Solve it if you can:
There are people who exist
Through those from whom your life originated.
And yet they exist, again,
Because they are of another stock!
(shakes his head)
One stares at them... cannot solve them.
You must have heard someone speak
In the village, here or there, a word,
About the poor young man who lived here...
And was as learned as four priests,—
And proposed to your mother...
But she gave him the brush-off, naturally,
As he might have expected.
But do you know what he did then?
He nearly went mad with grief,
And finally married another,
A Gypsy woman;... and before his death
He left a child to the band,
Which now roams in sin and need.
Yes, one of those common witches
We kept in our district, by God....
A memento of his fine deed...
(muffled)
(cheerfully)
For she exists by virtue of her,
Who once gave you life;
For love of your mother was
The drive that gave her life.
To help those lost souls?
There is no good to be done with them;
Who would save them would rob
The devil, who must go bankrupt
If he does not get his share on earth.
For all the poor people?
Was immediately withdrawn.
(smiling)
From the one you used just now.
(pats him on the back).
A man must act firmly and surely.
Farewell! I must not linger longer;
I must go out and try to track down
Those few who escaped.
So goodbye. A merry Christmas
I wish you. And greet your wife! (exit).
(after a while of silent thought)
So wild, so tangled together
Are all the threads of fate,...
So lie sin and the fruit of sin
Together, corrupting each other,
That he who sees it must acknowledge
That good and evil are inseparable.
(goes to the window and stares out for a long time)
As a sacrifice for my mother's deeds;
A lost soul came as a messenger
From Him who thrones above the clouds,
And cast the die of fate;...
And this poor soul came into being
Because my mother's soul once erred!
Thus God with the wages of sin
Keeps in balance His eternal right,
And hurls from the heights of heaven
Chastisement to the third generation.
(recoils in fright from the window)
His first aim is balance.
To make the scale rise
Sacrificial willingness has the power;
But the word may not be named now,
For mankind trembles already at hearing it!
(paces up and down the room for a while)
That smoothly enough rolls off the tongue,...
With which everyone is generous enough.
It means to beg for mercy
On dark, mysterious paths,
To plead for Christ's intercession,
And to stretch both hands high...
In doubt standing up to the knees!
Oh yes, if that were the end of the matter,
Then I would dare, like any other, to risk
Knocking at the Lord's gate,
Who is "fearful to praise"!
(stands still lost in thought)
In the most fearful hour of great pain,
When, slumbering for the last time,
The child could no longer be roused to a smile
By a mother's kiss;...
What was that...? Did I not pray then?
Where did that sweet rapture come from,
That stream of song, that melody,
That came from afar, and disappeared again...
And lifted me high, light and free?
Did I pray? Was I absorbed in prayer?
Did I speak with God here then?
Did He understand me? And did He look down
On the house of sorrow where I wept?...
What do I know! Now it is dark again
Around me, everything closed again,...
And nowhere, nowhere to find light...
Yes, Agnes,... she who sees blindfolded!...
(calls out anxiously)
(Agnes opens the door and comes in with the lighted candles for the feast; a bright light streams through the room).
(softly)
(sets the candelabra on the table)
You must be freezing...
(forcefully)
(smiling)
Wants neither warmth nor light.
(stokes the stove).
(paces up and down)
(silently to herself, while decorating the room)
How happily my Alf grasped for the shining candlelight
With his little fingers.
Then he was still healthy and strong,
And leaned forward from his chair
And asked if this was now a sun! (moves the light a little).
Now the light's beam falls
Outward... over that spot there.
Now he can see through the panes
The glow, from where he lies and sleeps;
Now he can peek unnoticed
Into the festive, radiant room...
But as if dulled by tears, the glass is;...
Wait, wait, soon it will laugh...
(wipes the glass).
(has followed her with his eyes and says softly)
Of that sea of sorrow, so wildly stirred!
It must calm down.
(to herself)
Now it is as if the dividing wall fell away,
As if the room became larger,
As if the hard, cold ground
Became a soft and cozy bed,
Where the child can sleep sweetly and softly.
(closer)
Close it again!
(pleadingly)
(closes the shutters)
God will surely not be offended
If in a moment of dream
I drank from the well of comfort...
He is a gentle and accommodating judge,
And will overlook it
If into the service you dedicate to Him,
Some idolatry creeps in.
(bursts into tears)
I am tired, dead tired,... my strength gives way.
Is the sacrifice that does not give everything.
(shakes his head)
(smiles)
Your sinful, yearning longing...
(in despair)
Tear it out! Tear it out!
And aimless you would throw the sacrifice,
If you mourn for what you miss now!
(shudders)
(refusing)
(stares ahead and says deeply moved)
The word of Scripture that I never before
Fully understood.
BRAND (throws his arms around her and presses her tightly against him).
Hide yourself, Agnes! Do not look at Him!
Close your eyes...
(lets her go)
Withdrew your youth from play and dance...
That I had to strike you with half-heartedness
With the command of sacrificial willingness?
Woe to us, then it would be too dear, too heavy
The sacrifice we have brought here.
You are my wife, your whole life
To the Lord's service I may thus demand.
The church building will soon begin...
Then the storm had to bring it down.
(embraces her as if in fear).
Myself and what is mine!
(goes to the side door).
Loosen the shutters? Just a crack?
Just for a moment? Please, may I?
(in the doorway)
Even forgetting he locks up!
Complaints, sighs, bolted shut,
Heaven, grave, barred, locked!
I want to go away; I cannot live
Here in loneliness and sorrow!
Away? Where to? Do not from above
Stern eyes look down on me?
Can I take with me on my flight
What is my heart's possession?
Can I escape, if I wanted to,
From my fear, my dull emptiness?
(listens at the door of Brand's room)
My voice from here does not penetrate.
No help anywhere! No counsel, no comfort!
God the Lord is much too busy now
With listening to the rich,
The child-rich, the blessed,
Their thanks and song and play and dance.
Christmas is a time of joy.
Me, a deserted mother, lamenting,
He does not see, pays no attention.
(goes cautiously to the window).
So that the full, clear light
Chases away the specter of fear and dread
From the night in which he slumbers?...
No, he is no longer there!...
Christmas is the feast of children;
Here he may come now;
Perhaps he stands outside,
Reaches with his little arms to tap
On the tightly closed panes...
Did I not hear crying now?
Alf, my child, I know no counsel!
It is closed here; that your father did;...
Alf, I may not open!
You are an obedient child,
Never did you or I cause him sorrow.
Oh, ascend quickly again to heaven,
There is light and there is joy:
There is play of children's throngs.
But let no one see you crying,...
Do not say that your father shut the house
When you came knocking at the door.
The little child cannot yet understand
What is grown-up duty.
Say that grieving, he, and sighing,
Has plucked leaves for a wreath;
Say that he has made it.
Can you see it? It is from him!
(listens, thinks, and shakes his head).
Stands as a dividing wall between us.
In the glow of the purifying fire
All division first falls away,...
The vault bursts and bolts crack
Prison door hinges grind,
The great lock springs open!
Much, oh much must still happen,
Before we can see each other again...
I will work in all silence,
To meet his demands;
I will harden myself, I will want to...
But tonight it is the feast.
Last year it was quite different!
Hush,... I will celebrate the feast nonetheless;
I will bring out all my treasures;...
How infinitely much they mean to me,
After the loss of my happiness,
Only a mother's sorrow can know.
(She kneels down by the chest of drawers, pulls open a drawer, and takes out several things. At that same moment Brand opens the door and wants to say something to her, but when he notices what she is about to do, he waits and stands still. Agnes does not see him).
(softly)
Playing the same games around the grave.
He wore when he was baptized...
In this I tied his little dress...
(holds it up, looks at it and laughs).
Splendid was my little lad
When we sat in church there...
Here the sash and here the little smock,
That he wore the first time
When he was allowed to go outside.
Oh, it was much too long then,
But it soon became too small for him...
I will just lay that here...
Mittens, little stockings,... what legs!...
And his new silk hat,
That he got when winter came...;
Beautiful and fresh, and still unused.
Oh, there lie still the little clothes
In which I wrapped him
For traveling, warm and light;
When I had to put them away again
I was weary unto death.
(wrings her hands in sorrow)
Idol temple;
Send another, if it must be!
What a treasure! Covered with pearls,
A trail of tears from fearful sorrows,
Radiant with the pain of choice,
Holy!—that is the coronation robe
He wore on the day of sacrifice!
Oh, how rich I still am!
(There is a violent knock at the corridor door; Agnes turns around with a cry and at the same moment catches sight of Brand. The door is torn open, and a ragged woman, with a child in her arms, rushes in).
(sees the baby clothes and calls to Agnes:)
With a mouth full of fine words!
(comes closer)
Rather in the storm out there
Than to hear talk of penance;
Rather flee until I fall down,
Drown myself, or starve,
Than to listen to you, black robe,
Who want to drive me to hell!
Can I help it, for the devil,
That I became what I am?
(softly)
They awaken fearful suspicions!
Give the child what it needs...
Where it is light, where it is good.
For us are the outer roads,
Hollows, forests, heath and mountains;
House and home, they are for you,
I must go outside again at once,
They are after me like dogs!
The police, all of them,
If they catch me, I will be bound.
Under a roof and between walls?
No indeed; then the winter night
Gives better air for both of us.
But something to cover the child!
For his brother ran away, the scoundrel,
Like a thief with all the rags
In which I had wrapped him.
Look, he is as good as naked now,
Blue and wet and half frozen
In the snowstorm from just now.
So that it may be spared your fate.
Do it for his soul's salvation;
Then the brand mark will be removed...
No one performs such a miracle,...
May and must not even do it!
Fight with those who cast him out!
Do you know where he was born?
On the roadside, yes!
Amid play, noise and drink.
Was baptized with mud splashes,
The cross made with hot ash,
First refreshed from the drinking bottle...
And just when he was born
They stood around us raging;...
Why, do you think, tell me? God forbid!
Who the father of the boy was!
(with fright)
Old rags, silk goods!
Nothing is too bad, too fine for me,
If it can only warm him.
Let him thaw out first
If he dies today anyway!
(to Agnes)
Do you have nothing for mine?
Be it clothes, or a shroud?
Warning from above sounds?
A crime against my little dead one!
If you remain standing on the threshold.
(brokenly)
I trample my bleeding heart underfoot.
Woman, come here, take what you want....
I share my abundance with you...
I have yielded
Step by step! I cannot go further!
It is enough; more is not necessary!
When for your child you bought it?
(gives)
In which I held my child at baptism.
Here the little dress,... sash and smock;
That is warm in winter weather.
Here the soft silk hat...
He will not suffer cold under that.
Take it, take everything now...
(giving again)
He wore on the day of sacrifice!
And now I'll be off!
On the stairs I will dress him;...
Quick now away with all my rags! (exit).
AGNES (stands in intense inner struggle; finally she asks:)
Tell me, Brand, would it be fair
To demand even more now?
That you made the heavy sacrifice?
And there remains still more to demand (about to go).
(silent until he is at the door, then she calls:)
Look, I regret it, I am humbled.
No, you could not think otherwise
Than that I had now given everything.
(pulls a folded little cap from her bosom)
Moist with the deathly cold sweat,...
It has lain on my heart!
(comes closer and asks without taking it)
The poor woman is still sitting on the stairs. (exit).
The last that still bound me to the dust!
(stands motionless for a while; gradually the expression of her face turns into radiant joy. Brand returns; she rushes to meet him jubilantly, throws her arms around his neck and cries:)
I am freed, Brand! I am freed!
All the fears that lay
Like lead heavy on my chest,
Are hurled into the abyss!
My will has conquered!
All mists have scattered,
All clouds swept away;
Through the night on the other side
I see the morning glow shining!
Graveyard! Graveyard!
The word no longer brings tears,
No longer tears open the wound;...
The little one has ascended to heaven!
Grave and fear of death, pain and sorrow!
Oh, look upward, look upward!
Do you see Alf standing before God's throne,
Laughing, happy, as in his life,
Stretching his little arms out to us?
And even if I had a thousand mouths,
And even if I might and could,
I would not open one
To ask for him back.
Oh, how great, how rich is God
In achieving His purpose.
The child fallen as a sacrifice lamb,
Has saved my soul to life;
I received it to give it back again,
To win the victory!...
Thanks that you led my hand;
Faithfully you have fought for me;
Oh, I saw how you suffered.
Now you stand in the valley of choice;
Soon will press on you the weight
Of the all or nothing!
Now all struggle is over!
He who sees Jehovah must die!
(recoils)
No! No! A thousand times no!
I have giant strong hands,
You shall not go from me!
Let everything else slip from me,
I can do without everything here,
But not you, oh no, never you!
Extinguish the light that now glows in me,
Close off the source of those feelings,
Give me back my idol images...
Outside that woman still sits;...
Let me return again
To the days when I was blind,
Let me sink again into the mire,
Where I lived until now in sin;
Everything you can; it is up to you;
Against you I can do nothing;
Break my wings, imprison my soul,
Lay on me the lead of days,
Bind me, pull me down again,
Where you yourself lifted me up,...
Let me live as before,
When I writhed in the dark!
If you can and dare do this,
I am as before your wife;...
Choose; you now stand at the crossroads!
Oh, but far from this place,
Far from sad memories
You will find light and life again!
The sacrifice... and your calling also?
And do you forget all the souls,
That you must heal here?
Those whom God entrusted to you
To lead to salvation?
Choose! you stand now at the crossroads!
(throws her arms around his neck)
Faithfully you have supported the weak!
I feel tired now and broken,...
But you will faithfully watch over me.
The victory took my strength;
Now I am weak and exhausted;
Oh, but I will praise God forever!
Good night, Brand!
(presses his hands against his chest)
Highest victory is to lose all.
Through loss is first won;...
The eternal inheritance is the lost!
END OF THE FOURTH ACT
Fifth Act
A year and a half later. The new church is quite finished and decorated for the consecration. The river runs close by. It is misty, early in the morning.
The sexton is busy hanging garlands outside in front of the church; presently the schoolmaster comes.
Give me a hand with these greens here.
It's to be a hedge for the procession.
Something hung in a round frame...
With his name on a gold ground.
From all sides they are coming;
The fjord is almost white with sails.
In former days, before his time,
No one here knew of strife or struggle;
Then you slept yourself, then your neighbor slept;
I no longer know which is best.
By life, untouched;
How does that happen?
We worked while others slept;...
And when they woke, we slept,...
For no one needed us then.
And then I don't like to say otherwise,
But, only if the great mass
Thinks so too, that goes without saying.
For us another law applies
Than the one read here;
We two here are officials
Of the district, to faithfully support
Church discipline and all sciences,
And who do not meddle with passions,
In a word: stand outside the parties.
I am sure that his superiors
Are not satisfied with him,
And if they dared before the people,
They would have turned their backs on him long ago.
But he is sly; he smells a rat,
He knows enough what is going on.
He builds the church. And everyone stares
Blindly here, just as long as something is done.
What is done, no one cares;
That something is done,... that's the point,...
All of us here,... people and leaders
Can rightly be called men of action.
And must therefore know people and country well;
But someone who traveled through here,
Shortly after the parish awoke,
Said, earlier they were sleepers here,
And now, awake, vow-makers.
Do all too much but make vows,...
The people have developed so quickly,
That almost everyone promises something.
I have often pondered it...
What is meant by a public vow?
To say, would lead us somewhat far;
But it is something around which all
Gather united... for the idea;
It is something that must happen,
Far in the future, of course.
But there is still something I would like
To hear from you for a moment.
Does what is called the future come?
It never comes!
And that is naturally in order.
For if it comes, it has become
The present,... is no longer future.
There is no quarreling about that.
But then how does one keep that promise?
It relates to the future;
It is only fulfilled in the future.
(to himself)
Must I repeat what I said,
That no future can ever come,
For when it comes, it no longer exists.
Lies something that seems like a turn,
But which is very simple,...
That is to say, for those
Who count beyond ten.
Promising is at last lying,
Let him who promises be ever so honest;
Hitherto it has been called difficult to keep;
One may well say quite impossible,
If one knows anything about logic...
Come, let us drop that.
Say, listen?...
On the new organ.
He has been up early!
This night.
He is consumed by secret grief
Since he became a widower.
He wants to hide it, that is true;
But now and then it comes to light:
It is as if his heart then overflows,...
Then he plays. Hear how every note
Sounds like weeping for wife and child.
In all that befits one's station!
All that bookish talk!
But dare to feel, good sexton!
To the feelings of common people.
A man must, as our priest teaches,
Wish to be only one thing;
Even he who would wish it cannot be
A man and at the same time an official.
One must only... in all respects...
Be an imitator of the bailiff.
Well when that great fire was,
How he then carried the archives out
And saved them?
It was as if he lived fourteenfold...
But inside stood the devil, laughing,...
His wife, seeing him, began to lament:
Your soul's salvation, my dear husband!...
The evil one is after your life!
Then the bailiff cried in the glow:
My soul? Let it go to hell!
Help me but save the archives!
Look, he is bailiff through and through,
Body and soul, with heart and soul.
And therefore he will surely end up
Where he will get his due reward.
The good bailiffs' Paradise.
That behind everything you say
I mark the signs of great ferment;
For ferment there is here, that is certain;
That shows the cleavage everywhere
In respect for ancient usage.
What rots is food for the new,...
The present is a consumptive,
And will get no fresh air
Until in the coffin along with the lot!
Yes, ferment there is, that is certain,
That is to be seen, even without a telescope.
The day the old church fell,
It was as if it took with it everything
In which our life until then
Was rooted, found its nourishment.
They cried first: pull down! pull down!
But it did not last very long, that shouting,
And many a one felt oppressed,
Looked shyly aside and stood abashed,
When the old house of God of the village
Was now seriously to crumble into ruins,...
For many it seemed inviolable.
Bound them to the spirit of the old,
As long as the new church was not
Consecrated in all its form;
And therefore in fear and anxiety
They just watched how it would turn out,
Looking out for the great day,
On which, instead of the old flag,
The new colors would wave;...
But as the tower rose
The people grew more afraid, still and pale...
And now,... yes now the time is up.
(points to the side)
Have gathered.
How still it is!
Like the sea before a storm.
It is as if a realization passed through it,
The understanding of the weight of the times;
Is it not as if they had gone forth
To the Thing to choose a new god?
Where is Brand now? I feel anxious;...
I wish I could hide!
One cannot fathom one's own heart:...
It goes deeper and deeper still;
One wills, resists, cannot help it!
And one testimony counts for no one!
The schoolchildren wait. I wish you good morning! (exit).
Now I am cooled down and wise again,
And remain closed as a pot.
To work;... here it is over now,
And idleness is the devil's pillow.
(exit to the other side).
To sound lovely and full.
Everything becomes one cry of woe;
Oppressive seem the walls, the arches,
The high vault, settling down
On my song, narrowly confining,
Like the wood, the hard, cold,
Scarcely enclosing my dead!
I have tried so many times,
The organ has lost its voice.
Loudly I sang my prayer;
It came back as sound, broken,
Of a bell, cracked, rusty,
Like a dull and hollow groan.
It was as if God himself stood there,
Throned high on the chancel above,
As if he angrily struck with his hand,
Rejecting my words!
A great house of God shall rise,
So I promised overboldly;
Break, fell, cheerfully
I risked pulling everything down...
Now the work is completed.
All now rejoice in chorus,
Cry: oh, how great! how great!...
Are they the ones who know better,...
Or is it I who cannot see it?
Is it great? Is this house
Truly that which I have willed?
Is the longing of my soul,
Which caused it to arise, satisfied?
Does it resemble that image of a temple,
Which hovered before my mind,
Vaulting over all sorrows?...
Oh, if Agnes had remained
It would have turned out differently;
The great in the small she could see,
Light would she bring into my night of doubt,
Earth and heaven she would embrace,
Like a leafy roof over trunks.
(notices the preparations for the festival).
From the schools comes singing;
And my parsonage is full,
Everyone wants to greet me;...
Does my name not gleam there in gold?
God give light,... or else plunge me
Deep into a dark abyss!
Another hour; then it will begin;
All think only of me now,
My name is on every lip!
Their thoughts, oh I know them,
And their words I feel burning,
Oh, their song of praise goes chilling
Like an ice-stream through my heart.
Could I... oh could I like a wild beast
Hide my head in a den,
Wrap myself in oblivion!
(enters in gala costume and greets, beaming with satisfaction)
The Sabbath that concludes the week;
Now we furl the sails
And hoist high the Sunday flag,
Go with the stream, gently,
And see how everything is ready.
Bravo, Brand, great and noble man,
Whose name will soon resound through the land!
Bravo; I am quite moved,
And yet also immensely happy!
And you...!?
You must soon preach finely and thunderingly;...
Give the people the full measure especially!
By all accounts there is an acoustics here,
Which all that I have spoken to have greatly
Admired...
Was quite surprised and full of praise.
And what a style, full of harmony!
How great, sublime, beautiful of form
And lines...
From near as well as far.
Too large for people here in the North.
In other lands, I know,
They apply a different standard;
But we, who live cramped here
On barren rocks, brackish fields,
On a strip between mountain and fjord,...
Here it is large, even astonishingly large!
A new one has come in its place.
Dilapidated, rickety monument
A high, a modern tower.
First the choir whined: oh, so venerable!
Now they roar: look, how great!...
Thus there is no second one to be found!
That he who now wishes it even larger
Is not free from pride.
That what stands there is a small church;
To conceal that would be lying.
What is the point? Why disparage
What one has built with effort oneself?
The people are so very satisfied,
They find everything splendid, rich,
Because no one has ever seen such a thing;...
Oh, let them remain in that delusion!
Why prod the wretches,
And by force go light a light
That no one wants?
It all comes down to their faith.
And it doesn't matter at all
If the church were a doghouse,
As long as the people can quietly believe
That it is large, immensely large.
Those souls are here as our guests;
And it would be highly improper
If everything were not at its best now.
And most of all for yourself
It would be unwise to touch
On that so-called truth tumor.
First of all, the Council has decided
To present you with a silver cup;
If you now assail its greatness,
Then what is inscribed on it becomes meaningless.
And the verse that is written on it,
And the speech I intend to make,
Both would be equally absurd,
If the building were no longer great.
You see, then, it is a matter of accommodating yourself
And keeping your ears tightly shut.
A festival of lies as a reward for lies.
What big words you say!
But let that be a matter of taste.
I have yet another argument...
If the first was silver, this is gold.
For know, you are now in favor,
Are now the darling child of fortune,
In short... you are to receive a decoration!
Today itself you will pin the knight's cross
In glory on your chest!
Take that from me, whoever can.
By the favor from higher authority?
You are absolutely a riddle to me!
But, I pray you, think just for a moment...
(stamping his foot)
I go away just as wise as I came;
You have grasped nothing of the meaning
That lay behind all my words.
I did not mean the greatness that
Is measured by feet and inches;
But that which shines back, though hidden,
Makes us coldly shudder, hotly glow,
Which lures to dreams and lingering,
Which lifts like a starry night,
Which, which... leave me alone! I am tired;...
Prove, explain, talk to others...
(goes up the hill toward the church).
And understand him? Greatness which
Lies in something that must shine back,
That cannot be measured by inches?
And starry night? Did he say that?...
Had he perhaps breakfasted too well?... (exit).
(comes out of the church again)
I have never been as I stand here now;
To whatever question, never an echo,
But stupid croaking and twaddle.
(looks in the direction where the bailiff went).
As often as I try to lift
His spirit from low scheming and lies,
He spits his filthy soul
Boldly into my face!...
Oh, Agnes, why did you go away?
This useless game makes me so tired.
Where no one wins and no one yields,
I stand as a fighter quite alone!
(enters)
Oh no, pardon,... I meant to say:
My colleague! That comes from the festival... yes...
My sermon haunts me a bit;
I only studied it yesterday...
Now it is still so fresh in my mind.
But enough... My thanks to you,
You, who so boldly broke the ice,
Went through strife and gossip,
Pulled down what was already decayed,
And built the new great and worthy.
Is there more missing than the consecration?
A reborn, pure spirit.
Such a great and beautifully decorated vault,
Such a light space also brings about
That the people will keep somewhat purer.
And then that beautiful acoustics,
Which gives every word double force,
Must multiply the faith of the congregation
By a hundred per head.
These are truly results,
Such as even in large cities
Can not be shown better...
All that we owe to you;
Accept for that from a colleague
The heartfelt thanks, which will
Be followed at the dinner,
On this day... your day of honor!...
By many a warm, enthusiastic word
From our younger clergy...
But, dear Brand, how pale you look...
And all without help and support.
But now the worst is over,
And already a beautiful day rewards us.
But good cheer; it will go well!
So many thousands are here
Gathered from far-off places;
Now say yourself... Who can match you
In oratorical gifts?
Look, your entire body of colleagues
Now receives you with open arms,
And the hearts of the congregation
Are full of warm gratitude to you!
And the building that has turned out so well!
And that it is so beautifully decorated here!
And then the text for the day... how sublime!
And the unparalleled dinner!
I was just in the parsonage
When the calf was slaughtered for the feast.
In truth, Brand, a splendid animal!
I thought, that is quite a thing
To find such a tasty piece
In these difficult times,
Now that meat is so expensive nowadays.
But let us reserve that for later.
Something else drove me here.
But to be brief; there is not much time.
There is a single point, in which
From today you must change,
And that will surely not be difficult.
Yes, I suspect that you half
Can guess already what I am hinting at?
It concerns your conception of official duty.
Until now you have not sufficiently
Respected custom and usage;
And yet, both are the most important,
If not actually the highest.
Now, well, Lord, I do not wish to blame,
You are still young, a newcomer,
You have just come from a large city,
Cannot know the conditions here...
But now, my dear, it is necessary
To grasp the matter a little more correctly.
Until now you have cared most about
What each soul needs for itself;
A gross mistake... this between ourselves...
One must weigh the mass together;
Shear all with the same comb.
Rest assured, you will fare best that way!
You built here for the good of all
A church. That is like the festive garb
Of peace and of right and law;
For in religion the State sees
The power that does most for civilization...
The bulwark of its firm confidence,
And the guideline of morality.
You see, the State is not very rich,
And it wants value for its money.
Good Christian, they say, good citizen
Do you think that he wastes his money
For mankind, and for God's sake?
And to make it difficult for himself?
No, the State is not that foolish;
And it would look bad for all
If, scrupulously and strictly,
It had no more than that in view.
But the State achieves its goal alone
Through its officials,
In this case thus through the minister...
Not much more to say. You have given
The State that church for its benefit,
And from that it follows that now your labor
Must serve to support Church and State.
In this spirit I see the festival,
Which we shall soon celebrate;
Thus shall the bells also ring,
Thus one reads the deed of gift.
And with the donation, thus, you promise,
Now also to do what I have asked of you...
What are you making such a fuss about?
What you promise, there is no harm in it!
Not a single soul suffers damage
If you also wish to serve the State;
You can kill two birds with one stone,
If you only go about it sensibly.
It is not your work to save John and Peter
From the fire of hell,
But to refresh all the congregation
At the fountain of grace.
If the whole parish is then saved,
Thus every one also has a share in it.
The State is, you probably do not know,
Exactly half republican;
It hates freedom like death,
But sees equality gladly enough;
Equality, however, is never found
Until what is uneven is smoothed away,...
And that is precisely what you do not do!
On the contrary, you have promoted
What is unequal and unusual.
Formerly that never came to light.
Everyone was a member of the Church.
Now each one has a personality;
And that does not benefit the State.
And therefore it is so difficult
To collect equalization contributions,
And other church goods,
Because the Church is no longer the hat
That must fit all heads.
Although indubitably here reigns
A mess, which is an abomination.
But where there is life, there is hope.
And through the donation your duty becomes more clear,
Namely, to work
For the welfare of Church and State now both.
In everything there must be regularity,
Lest the play of scattered forces,
Mad, like an untamed wild colt,
Destroy grove and hedge and boundary stone
Of tradition and custom.
In every order one law rules,
Even if it bears a different name.
It is called "school" for fine arts;
Among soldiers, if I remember rightly, it is "the step".
Yes, that is the word, my dear friend!
That is where it must head, so thinks the State.
It considers the "double-quick" much too fast;
"Mark time", not fast enough;
But everyone in the same step,
And everyone equally large steps,...
Look, that is the goal towards which we strive!
The clouds to soar, for the geese!
But if you want poetry and fables,
You will find them in the Bible.
It is full of them; swarms even
From Genesis to Revelation
With many instructive parables.
I point for example only to
The building of the Tower of Babel!
How far did poor humanity get there?
And why? Easily explained,
They did not stay in their ranks,
They each spoke their own language,
Did not together draw under the yoke...
They became personalities.
This is the one half of the kernels
Hidden in the fable's shell:
He who keeps himself separate from others,
Remains lonely and easily falls.
Whom God wants to strike down in life's struggle,
He makes him an individual.
And formerly the Romans said:
The gods robbed him of his reason.
But mad and lonely is the same,
And therefore he who stands alone
Must eventually expect the same fate
As him,... whom David sent to battle
In the hottest fight,... Uriah, met.
I see no destruction in death.
And are you so sure
That if those who built had been one
In language, and one in mind,
They would have succeeded in raising the tower
Up to heaven?
No one reaches up to heaven.
That is the other half of the kernels
Hidden in the fable's shell:
That every building comes to ruin
That would strive towards the stars of heaven.
And the soul's longing reaches heaven!
About that there is nothing more to say.
Naturally heaven is the reward
For a well-spent and pious life.
But to mix faith and life
Harms both; the one is not the other;...
Six days are for working,
The seventh is for soul-care;
If the house of God stood open all week,
Who would then come on Sunday?
It weakens the purifying power of the word,
If you do not spare it with understanding;
For religion, like art,
Must not dissolve into vapor.
You may see your ideals
From the sacred refuge of the pulpit...
But lay them aside with the gown,
As soon as you enter life again.
As I said, there is a law in everything,
Which demands strict self-limitation,
And it is to bring this to light...
What was necessary... that I spoke to you.
Do not fit the state concepts of my office.
But not here... you must rise higher;...
In another sphere...
That I first be dragged through the mud?
To catch the hook, one must bend it.
That I would do such a thing...?
First let someone slowly bleed to death!
Only when a skeleton does one fit
Into your bloodless pale existence!
Much less you, understand me!
I only thought it could do no harm
If I briefly showed you the way,
Along which I have come forward.
That at the first crow of the cock
Of the Realm, I should deny all that
My ideal was, for which I lived!
I only pointed out your duty;
I want you to set aside
What is not useful to your congregation.
Keep it all, if you wish,...
But keep it hermetically locked away.
Rave in your inner self if you must,
Not before the people, in public.
Believe me: it avenges itself in the long run,
If one remains stubborn and undisciplined.
Like the mark of Cain it stands on your forehead;
And cries out, how worldly-wise you
Have killed the Abel in your soul!
(to himself)
That goes too far! (aloud) I do not want now
To prolong the strife, but I must
Ask you once more to consider,...
Supposing you want to get ahead...
In what country, in what time
You live; for no one wins the fight
If he does not go with the current.
Look at the artists, at the poets:
Do they despise the duties of the times?
Look at the soldiers, do they still carry
A sharp saber in the scabbard?
No! Because a law commands:
Adapt yourself to what your country needs.
Everyone must tame his own self,
Not stand out and not go ahead,
Hide quietly in the mass.
Humane is the watchword, says the bailiff.
If you only approached it humanely
You could still make a fine career.
But first the rough edges smoothed off,
And planed down what is bumpy;
Smooth you must be like the others,
And not walk on your own paths
What you do will also be lasting.
A man like you, I understand it well,
Desires a better sphere of work;
But, if you are ever to be satisfied
In a wide or in a narrow sphere,
You must put on the livery of the times.
The corporal must with his stick
Beat the measure into the people.
For the ideal of one who goes ahead
With us now is a corporal.
Just as the corporal leads his people
To church, in file,
So must you lead the congregation
As a shepherd to Paradise,
It goes so easily; for faith
You have, as a teacher, the authority;
And since that is based on study
They accept it blindly as well.
And how you are to proclaim the doctrine
The law and ritual will show you.
So, brother... do not be discouraged,
There is still time to think;
Understand the situation, do not be anxious!...
I will try once more in the church
Whether I can speak with a louder voice;
I am not used to so much sound,...
It occurs here so seldom.
Goodbye; soon I shall preach about
The discord in the human soul,
And how God's image is erased,...
But now, I think, it will soon be time
To take a little refreshment (exit).
(stands for a moment as if petrified in his thoughts)
For God's work, I thought in blindness;
There sounded a one-day trumpet blast
And showed me which spirit I served.
No, no! They have not yet got me!
That church over there has drunk blood;
My light, my life I gave for it;
But still, my soul I will keep!
Terrible it is to stand alone,...
Wherever I look, to see death;
Terrible, to hunger so for bread,
When they give you nothing but stones.
How fearfully true he spoke,...
Yet what an abyss was revealed!
God's holy dove hides itself,
Never yet brought clarity over me!...
Oh, if only one were with me in faith,...
Who would give me calm and peace again!
(Ejnar, pale, emaciated, dressed in black, comes along the road and
stops when he sees Brand).
(exclaiming:)
Whose heart is not of wood or stone!
Oh, Ejnar, come here into my arms!
For what once happened?
You are to blame. I see in you
The blind instrument, that God's love
Sent to me, when I was lost.
(recoils)
Which one learns, when he puts off
The garment of sin, and is reborn.
That you at that time had taken
Quite different paths...
By pride, proud of my own powers.
The gifts that the world cultivates,
The talent that one has often praised,
My art of song, they were only snares,
That drew me into Satan's nets.
But thank God; he loved me,
He did not let his weak lamb go;
He helped me, when it was necessary.
He made me take to dice...
After that I was sick for a time.
I lost my will to work, my talent,
And all my cheerfulness disappeared.
Then they sent me to the hospital;
I was sick a long time, in hot fevers...
I thought that in all the rooms
I saw thousands of very large flies,...
Came out again and made acquaintances
With sisters who stand in heaven's service,
Go around seeking lost souls;
And these, with a theologian,
Delivered me from the world's yoke,
Freed me from the net of sin
And made me a child of the Lord.
The other along a steep hillside.
Then I became a temperance teacher.
But in that one runs great danger
Of falling into temptation again;
I therefore sought something else again,
I am now leaving as a missionary...
But it is best that we part now!
My time is precious...
It is a feast day here today.
My place is with the black souls.
Farewell! (makes to go).
Urge you to stay and to ask...?
The abyss between now and then...
Still of that young woman from then,
Who held me in her nets,
Before I was purified by faith.
Well, how is she doing?
I pay no attention at all.
What matters, tell me only.
With joy and sorrow; our little child died...
I want to know how she died.
With all the richness of her heart,
With firm will to the very end;...
With thanks for all that life gave
And took, so she went into her grave.
Tell me how it stood with her faith?
(calmly)
Has you in his grip as well;...
Just as she, you will burn eternally.
You who yourself lay in a pool of sins...
I am cleansed by faith;
And everything that was unclean
Washed away my true holiness;
Cleansed is my Adamic garment
By the clapper-stroke of awakening;
And like a surplice I am white,
Bleached by the lye-bath of prayer.
And I see the devil standing around the corner.
I am a grain of heavenly wheat,...
You in the sieve of judgment... chaff. (exit).
BRAND (looks after him for a moment; suddenly his eyes shine and he bursts out:)
For that man I had to long!
Now all bonds are broken;
I will unfurl my own flag,
Even if no one goes with me!
(comes in haste)
All the crowd for the procession
Is ready to set out...
Think it over, hurry home!
The people will wait no longer;
All those good people throng
Like a mountain river in spring,
Pushing up to the parsonage,
Shouting that they want to see you.
Listen, there is their shouting again!
Hurry, for I fear they might
Not act humanely.
In their midst, go with you;
I stay here.
The more the people press;
Look, there you have it, indeed!
Provost and priests, officials
All pushed aside...;
Come, come, lay into them!
Let your influence be felt!
Too late! the ranks break;
The whole procession runs riot!
(The crowd streams in and breaks through the festive procession in wild disorder toward the church).
OTHERS (point to the steps of the church, where Brand stands, and cry:)
Look there!
(in the crush)
That will bring them to calm!
Is it something evil or something good
That must happen here?
Through their oppressive sluggish calm!
People, you stand at the crossroads,
You must will the new entirely,...
Remove rubble and filth of the old,...
Before the temple, high and great
Rises to a house of prayer!
That you, in any case, served
Him who wills spirit and truth!
And I was, when I thought
That I brought him closer to you
By winking, bargaining, with the Lord;
Small was but the old church,
And I reasoned thus:
Twice as big,... that will work;
Five times bigger... that must do good!
And I did not see how it again came down to
The old everything or nothing.
Compromising, I went astray.
But today the Lord spoke.
The trumpet of Judgment has
Just sounded over the house,...
And I, listening, fearful, trembling,
Small as David stood before Nathan,
Was crushed, dumb with fright;...
Now all doubt is gone.
Shifting is a work of the Devil!
(in rising excitement)
Kill those who stole our strength!
Put a blindfold before your eyes,
You divided your strength small,
Broken and split you;
Thus you are weak and hollow now,
No one strong, powerful, and whole.
What seek you here in the church?
It is only the pomp that lures you,
Organ playing and bell ringing...
The pleasure of shivering delightfully
At a sermon full of fire and glow,
That whispers, that murmurs,
Waxes and overflows and thunders,
According to the rules of art!
(to himself)
(likewise)
The external that you want.
And then home again in dullness,
Back into routine and staleness,
Body and soul in workday clothes;
And deep in the chest hidden,
Well stored, the book of life,
Until another Sunday comes!
Oh, that was not what I dreamed,
When I made all those sacrifices!
High and great I wanted the church,
That it should vault over
Not only faith and doctrine,
But all that God in life
Has given right to live...
Sweat and dust of heavy daily work,
Evening rest and anxious nights,
Joy of life of young people,
Everything of joy and sorrow
A human soul can contain.
The roaring plunge of brooks and
Waterfalls into dark abyss,
Sounds shrieking from the storm,
Sounds rising from the sea,
Must with the organ playing
And with the song of human voices
As if conjured, melt together!
Away with the work done here!
It is great only in lies;
Ripe again to fall,
It is worthy of your small will.
You want to kill all growth
By separating your work from God...
Six of the days of the week
You pull God's banner inside.
And the seventh alone,
One sees it fluttering to heaven!
With you we will conquer!
He does not possess true faith.
For us both the point of contention,
And for the broken unity!
Without soul no one can believe!
Point out to me here one single soul!
Point out someone who has not thrown away
The best that is in him.
Groping, grasping, hurrying forward,
While chasing after pleasures,...
Alluring whistling jugglery...
You become blunt for joy of life.
Scarcely burned out and broken
They come to dance before the ark!
Do cripples and deaf people
First empty the cup,...
Yes, then it is time for penance,
Time for hope and for prayer,
Only when you have lost your mark,
You become like the irrational animal,
Creep to heaven's gate,
Seeking God... as invalids!
Therefore his kingdom must fall.
Why should he at his feet
Tolerate those withered souls?
Has he himself not proclaimed...
Only those who are pure in spirit
As a child, and uncorrupted,
Shall inherit the kingdom of heaven!
Childlike spirit alone achieves that!
Do not compromise with yourselves.
Come then all, men, women,...
Come with fresh childlike cheeks,
Into the great church of life!
(cries anxiously)
The green earth is its floor,
Meadow or field, sea or fjord;
The blue of heaven is the vault
That spans its space.
There all your work shall take place,
That everyone may hear it;
Fear not, whatever you may accomplish,
To desecrate it thereby.
It will cover everything, even
As the bark the whole trunk:
There faith and life become one.
There daily work shall become
One whole with law and doctrine.
There your day's work shall be one
With longing for the higher,
The children's play around the Christmas tree,
And the festive dance before the ark!
(A storm goes through the crowd; some fall back; the most gather around Brand).
One is: living... and serving God!
Help, police, bailiff, sexton!
(muffled)
Fight with a mad bull?
Wait until he has raged himself out.
(to the crowd)
Can he be here among such as you?
Free and glorious is his kingdom.
(Locks the church door and takes the keys in his hand).
I revoke what I have given;...
No one shall receive from my hand
These keys for your feast!
(throws the keys into the river).
Crawl then through the cellar hole;
Bend your limp back, and stoop;
Let in the dark your pestilent
Sighs creep along the ground,
Powerless as your rotten lungs!
(softly and relieved)
(likewise)
Let the breath of life wipe from you
The dust from the narrow valley.
Follow me on my triumphal march!
Once you must awaken,
Once you must, ennobled,
Break with what is called compromise;...
Out of the misery of your cowardice,
Out of all that is weak and low.
Strike your enemy in the face!
Fight with him to the death!
Through the whole land, we will march,
Untying every soul bond
That holds the people captive,...
Then purified, high and free,
Removing all that is sluggish and dull,
Becoming men, becoming priests,
Stamping anew the old seal,
Vaulting God's kingdom as a temple!
(The crowd, among them the sexton and the schoolmaster, gather around him. Brand is lifted up and carried on their shoulders).
Things shall be seen to happen!
(The mass of people streams through the valley up the height. A few remain behind).
(to those leaving)
Do you not see that Satan's spirit speaks from
All that he proclaims?
In the village here, calm and quiet.
People listen!... You will go to ruin!...
Hm, no answer even, those dogs!
Think of the untended cattle!
When his people once suffered hunger!
(far away)
THE PROVOST (looks after them for a moment with folded hands and then says anxiously:)
Without flock, anxiously asking,
Now stands the old shepherd of souls,
Stripped to the shirt!
(makes a threatening gesture)
We shall overcome!
And... I know my sheep well! (runs after them).
He runs after the mob!
Ha, I feel my courage revive...
Then I will also go up the mountain!...
Perhaps I can catch a few!
Saddle my nag!...
Fetch me a horse, trusty and gentle!
(all exit).
(At the highest hut belonging to the village. In the background the landscape rises higher and turns into great barren mountain plains. It is raining. Brand, accompanied by the crowd, men, women, and children, comes up the mountain).
The village lies behind us, below.
From mountain to mountain the mist stretches
Its tent of fog over it.
Forget the musty existence down there,
Rise free, rise high, you people of God!
THE SCHOOLMASTER..
By which way?
As long as we reach the goal with it.
Come, follow...
We cannot make it before night!
You want your wages before the work.
Up, shake off that sluggishness,...
If not,... then turn back to the grave!
We know it, our reward comes later!
Who now looks down on you from heaven!
(muffled)
(looks around desperately in the mass)
A proper answer to that down there.
(indignantly)
(close together)
It will last until the end of your life,
Until you have made all sacrifices,
Are free from all your compromising,...
Until you have your will in your power,
Until all weak doubt gives way
To the command: all or nothing!
And the losses? All your gods,
The spirit of half-measures, golden chains
That still bind you slavishly to the earth,
All that promotes your limp weakness!
And what is the booty? To be pure in will,
A strong faith, unity of the soul,...
A readiness to sacrifice, that gives
Even with jubilation, until death,...
A crown of thorns on each forehead,...
See! that will be each one's war reward!
(with raging uproar)
Now it becomes sacrifices!
It will one day be achieved by you.
But whoever stands at the front of the ranks
Must be able to fall for his cause.
If he dares not, let him then put away
His weapon, before the fight begins.
In the enemy's power falls the flag
If a weakling defends it.
Who is paralyzed by fear of sacrifice,
Is already marked with the death mark!
For a yet unborn people!
The roads to our Canaan.
To victory through death,
I call upon you, as the Lord's knight!
In the village we are under the ban...
Lead us as our chief?
(point frightened to the road below)
(comes on, followed by a few of those who remained behind)
Hear the voice of your old shepherd!
(to the people)
Let us cross the mountain!
Wound my heart so deeply!
With empty words.
Where we see sincere repentance.
Oh, come to yourselves,
And see with what hellish cunning
He lures all people to him!
A little troop born in this corner?
Are you chosen for something great?
Does one prisoner become free through you?
You have your small daily task,
And what goes beyond that is sin.
What good can you do as voters?
Only protect your humble hut.
What should you do with falcon and eagle?
What should you do with wolf and bear?
You will only be prey to the superior force,...
Oh, my lambs,... oh, my children!
Closed the house door behind us for good;...
There is no home for us now.
He pointed out falseness, pretense, and lies;
No longer does the congregation sleep;
And what down there is called life
Is no life for those who awakened.
And everything will return to the old track;
Just keep still for a while!
I guarantee that the congregation
Will soon live again in peace.
(comes running hastily)
A better time dawns for the village;
If you are only sensible now
You can all be rich before evening!
Millions and millions of them!
A hailstorm can easily drive them away.
They never came here before;...
Now, friends, here in the North
A better time also comes for us!
A sign from the Lord!
Ah, I have so often dreamed of it,
But took it for imagination;...
Now we clearly see the intention...
To measure your strength in a vain fight
With a superior force,
That would even intimidate the provost.
Now you have another goal in sight
Than to languish stupidly for the high.
The dear Lord can manage alone,
And heaven still stands firm.
Do not meddle with other issues,
But hurry to catch the fish,
That is a useful, practical work,
That happens without blood or steel;
It brings you profit and welfare,
And demands no personal sacrifice!
Thus flames the word in heaven's vault!
Then come comfortably to me,...
For instance, come next Sunday;...
I will truly...
(breaking off)
(softly to the provost)
(likewise)
(muffled)
They will not be so strict with you...
As if printed in an open book.
He made fools of you all...
And he didn't even pass cum laude!
For the sacrament when she was dying!
There is no worse Christian!
I know where you are all going now.
(roaring:)
And stone him, the hell-spirit!
(Brand is driven up the rocky plain with stone-throwing. Then the persecutors return).
Now you return to home and hearth;
May your repentance brighten your eyes,
Then you will see, all will be well.
We know it, after all, God is good;
He does not demand innocent blood;
And the Government likewise
Is mild, as almost nowhere else;
And your local authority here, our bailiff,
Will not make it hard for you either;
And I am loving and humane
Like modern Christianity;
Your superiors all wish
To live in peace and harmony with you!
Then it must be resolved.
As soon as it is a little calmer
We will appoint a committee
To investigate to what extent
Religion meets the requirement.
It may consist of clergy,
Whom we, the provost and I, will appoint...
In addition, if desired,
The sexton and the village schoolmaster,
With other men from the people
In whom trust is willingly placed.
Just as you lightened the old shepherd's
Great fear.
May that thought give everyone strength,
That God performed a miracle for you.
Farewell! Much blessing on your catch!
(The crowd descends the mountain).
(to the bailiff)
Now everything here will change;
For, thank God, there exists something
Called the name "reaction."
Was smothered at birth.
(whistles)
First came into my mind at the moment.
Is that blameworthy, when it was a matter
Of such great importance?
Quite justifiable if need be.
The people are calm and sensible,
What does it matter whether we conquered
By truth or by lies?
But is that not Brand who is
Dragging himself along up there?
A lonely fighter on his journey!
Far behind him!
The fellow is worthy of the company.
(cheerfully)
This could serve as an epitaph:
"Here lies Brand, full of fighting spirit;
He won one soul... and that was mad!"
(with forefinger against nose)
The judgment of the people seems to me
Rather inhumane.
(shrugs shoulders)
(Above on the bare mountain plateau. The weather gets worse and worse; black clouds drive low and dense over the snowfields. Black peaks and ridges now and then appear and are again shrouded in mists).
(Brand, bloody and beaten, comes up the mountain).
(stops and looks back)
And not one reached the peaks.
Indeed, all hearts ring with
Longing for a greater, better time;
Indeed, there descends into all souls
The call to holy battle.
But the sacrifice frightens them;
Weak and fearful, the will hides...
One died for them all, after all...
Cowardice no longer counts as sin!
(sinks down on a stone and looks around timidly).
I went trembling with fear...
Amidst the howling of the dogs...
In the dark... I was a child!...
In the haunted room.
But I controlled my heartbeat,
Comforted myself with the thought:
Outside the full light shines,
The darkness does not come from night,...
There are shutters before the windows.
And I thought how soon the daylight,
Bright summer sunshine,
Would stream in full and glorious
Through door and window arches,
Into the haunted room.
Oh, how bitterly I was deceived,
Pitch-black night struck against me...
And outside sat men
Gloomy, silent, along fjord and field,
Holding fast to dead dreams,
Guarding them, like the king,
For years by Snefrid's corpse,
Workingly loosening a corner of the shroud,
Feeding on idle hope,
Each time thinking that the roses
Would bloom again on his cheeks.
And, like him, there was not one
Who gave the grave what it demanded.
Among them not one who knows:
Corpses are not dreamed back to life,
Corpses must go into the ground;
Their task is to give
Nourishment to a new harvest...
Dark night,... night, everywhere,
Over men, women, children!
Could I but with lightning flashes
Deliver them from straw-death's distress!
(jumps up).
Like a hell-ride in the dark.
I see the time in armor
Admonishing, demanding life-sacrifices,
Demanding ringing steel, not staves,
Demanding swords from the scabbard;...
I see kinsmen girding for battle,
I see brothers crouching,
With their hats pulled down over their eyes.
And more I see passing by,...
All horrors and misery!
Women wailing, men screaming,
Ears closed to those who plead,...
I see them scratching on their forehead
The mark of poor shore-dwellers,
The least people created by God.
Pale and making themselves small, they stand,
Thinking thus to protect themselves...!
Flags, midday rainbow,
Where has all that gone now?
Where now the joyful tricolor,...
That which fluttering, clapping flew out
Amidst cheering popular jubilation,
Until a royal enthusiast
Clipped tongue and split in the flag?
With the tongue they then boasted;
The dragon may not show teeth,
What then is that split as a mouth?...
If only the people had not cheered,
Not clipped the king's scissors!
Such a flag with four corners of peace
Is just good for a distress signal,
When a boat is holed!
Worse times and visions
Shine through the future night!
Like a reeking black cloud
England's coal smoke spreads out.
Befouling all fresh green,
Choking every sprout in soot,
It creeps, heavy with poison,
Stealing the sunlight from the fields,
Sinking down, pregnant with ash,
Like a judgment of antiquity...
Men are becoming ugly now;...
Through the mines' crooked passages
Sounds the dripping of water.
The dwarf folk, busy with zeal,
Work, freeing the spirit of the ore,
Go bent in back and soul,
Glancing with greedy eyes
At the white golden lies,
Without cry of pain, without smile,
A brother falls, no one cares,
Own fall does not rouse the lion either;...
All hammer, file, coin;
No one thinks of the light anymore;
All mankind no longer knows
That, though powers may fail,
This does not release from duties!
Worse times and visions
Shine in the future night!
Cold understanding with loud barking
Threatens the sun of doctrine on earth.
A cry of distress rises from the North,
Help us! resounds along the fjords;
Cross and sulky hisses the dwarf,
That is still not work for me.
Let the strong glow for that,
Others rise for that;
That does not lie on our path...
We are small, not calculated
For a truth-struggle tournament;
Cannot for our salvation-loss
Sacrifice the people's welfare.
Not for us did he suffer,
Not for us did the points of the crown of thorns
Press into his temples...
Not for us did the lance point
Press into the side of the dead.
Not for us did the nails burn,
Driven through hands and feet...
We are small, almost unknown to him,
Are not fit to help!
Not for us was the cross carried!
Ahasuerus' belt-strap, bloody
Whipping, purple coloring back and
Shoulders of the sufferer... that is
Our share of the passion work!
(throws himself down in the snow, covering his face; after a while he looks up).
Have I dreamed? Am I awake now?
Everything gray, hidden in mist.
Were they sick dream-visions
That passed before my eyes?
Is the image, after which the soul
Was created, completely lost?
Overcome in our primal spirit?... (listening).
Like song it sounds in the storm wind!
(whispers in the storm wind)
For you are born of dust:
Whether you do his work or yield,
You are still lost forever!
(repeats the words and says softly:)
Did he not stand in the church choir,
Angrily rejecting my prayer?
Did he not take all I possessed,
Close off the path of light to me,
Let me struggle to the end
And make me fall!
(sounds stronger above him)
You are doomed to death;
You may follow him or deviate,
Your deed remains forever cursed!
(to himself)
A life in happiness and peace,
I traded for struggle and misery,
Wounded my breast bloody,...
Yet have not slain the dragon!
(softly and enticingly)
You have lost property and goods;
Sacrifices do not enrich him;...
For you are born as a human!
(bursts into soft weeping)
Lonely I sit here on the peak,
Shivering in the wind, with ghosts
Wild and gloomy, all around me!...
(He looks up; a light-glowing spot opens and widens in the mist; a female figure stands before him in a light garment and a cloak around her shoulders. It is Agnes).
(smiles and stretches out her arms to him)
(jumps up confused)
Now all mists disappear!
(screams)
Don't you see that deep chasm,
Through which the wild water flows? (softly).
No, you are not dreaming, no, you are not sleeping,
You see no more visions now.
You have been ill, my dearest,
Drank the bitter drink of madness,
Dreamed that we left you...
(quickly)
Follow me, come, the time is short though.
All that suffering you dreamed;
All your struggle... deceit and delusion.
Alf sits on grandmother's lap;
She is well and he is growing up.
The church still stands in the village too;
Build a larger one, if you want;...
And the people toil down there
As in the old, good days.
But you need rest...
Dream-danger lies in wait.
Again you will glide like a shadow,
Away from the child and from my side,
Then your spirit will darken again,
If you do not use the remedy.
You alone, and no one else.
Who read so many books,...
Who is thoroughly clever,
Has found the germ of the disease.
All sad dream-visions
Come from three words.
Those three you must boldly delete,
Wipe them from your memory,
No longer regard them as law.
They are the cause of the visions,
Which overcame you like madness;...
Remove them, your soul will be pure
And freed from pain and sickness!
(recoils)
Is that it?
And as truly as you will one day die.
Still as before over us!
Clasp me in your strong arms...
Let us seek sun and summer...
(shaking his head)
Now no more wild dreams,...
Now comes the rich, full life!
Brand, what do you want?
Live what I have only dreamed,...
Do in truth what was merely delusion.
That led you!
Do you want to live through of your own free will?
Beat me with offering scourges
Until I collapse?
Lock out the sunny daylight,
Never pluck from life's fruits,
Never gladden your soul with song?
Oh, I remember so much!
How your hope deceived you?
You remained alone... were struck!
Not for my own victory did I fight.
Drove man from Paradise!
And he closed the gate;...
No one gets past there!
THE FIGURE (disappears in a thunderclap; the mist fills the place where she stood, and a sharp, piercing cry resounds, as of someone fleeing:)
Die! What are you doing here on earth!
(stands for a moment as if dazed)
Fled on great black wings
Like a vulture over the plain.
It was the asking for a finger
To get the whole hand!...
Yes, that was the spirit of half-heartedness!
(enters with a rifle)
I want to follow him, I want to hit him!
Each time one thinks to hit him
In the heart, with murderous lead,...
But when one wants to kill him,
He sits mocking and brazen
Behind you, and flies away again.
Loaded it with lead and silver;
Believe me, I am not as crazy
As they say!
What happened?
(closer)
Your forehead too!
Now grating, like crackling autumn leaves.
(looks at him with wide eyes)
I thought you were the priest;
... Bah, all that priestly rubbish!...
But you are the greatest of all!
I see your blood dripping down your forehead.
Through the sharp teeth of thorns,
Deep and wild pressed into the flesh.
Yes, you have hung on the cross!
Father said, when I was small,
How that once happened,
Far from here and with another;...
But now I see that was a fairy tale;...
Yes, because you are the Saviour!
Kneel praying at your feet?
For the redemption of us all!
For my own poor soul!
(shakes his head)
In your hand is the nail mark;...
Chosen, the Saviour!
(looks upward; the clouds part)
(stares straight ahead)
On the lowest rung of the ladder,
Soul and body heavily wounded.
(more wildly)
Bores its point deep into the sky!
Finally you have come here after all!
Oh, how soulfully I yearn
For the sun, for light and gentleness,
For a pious, quiet peace,
For life's summer warmth! (bursts into tears).
Jesus, I called your name so often,
You never came to me;
You slipped close past me,
Like a half-forgotten word;
Let me now from the robe of salvation,
Wet with the wine of true repentance,
Grasp just a single corner!
(pale)
Tears stream down your cheeks,...
Warm, that drops from their shroud
Gently slide from the peaks,...
Warm, that the ice crust of my soul
Melts and dissolves into tears,...
Warm, that the snow-mist veil in tatters
Slips off the ice-church priest... (trembling).
Why did you not weep earlier!
(with clear eye, radiant and as if rejuvenated)
Without summer sun from above
I have, until now, only been
A bearer of God's strict laws;
Now, from this hour, my life shall
Warmly and richly seek the sunlight.
The ice crust melts. Now I can weep,
Can kneel,... can pray.
(Falls to his knees).
(looks askance upward and says softly and timidly)
Don't you see his shadow falling?
See how he along high peaks
Brushed with his broad wings.
Now is the hour of salvation near...
If only the silver will bite now!
(Puts the rifle against her cheek and shoots. A dull rumble, like rolling thunder, resounds from above along the slope).
(rises)
Look, he staggers,... he is falling;
Hear, he screams, piercingly echoing!
Look, look, how all his feathers
Scatter along the mountain like flakes,
Look, how big and white he becomes!...
Hey, now he rolls this way!
(collapses)
All the offspring are condemned!
Of heaven, when he fell!
Watch him tumble! Watch him roll!...
Oh, now I am no longer afraid;
He is white now, like a dove...!
(screams in fear).
(throws herself down in the snow).
(bending under the avalanche, calling upward:)
Has then not even a grain of worth
The quantum satis of the will...?
(The avalanche buries him and fills the whole valley).
(sounds through the rumbling thunder:)
First Act
DRAMATIC POEM IN FIVE ACTS
PERSONS
Aase, a peasant's widow. Peer Gynt, her son. Two old women, with corn-sacks. Aslak, a smith. Wedding guests. The Kitchen-master. The Fiddler, etc. A newly arrived peasant couple. Solvejg and little Helga, their daughters. The Farmer of Haegstad. Ingrid, his daughter. The Bridegroom and his parents. Three mountain dairymaids. A woman dressed in green. The Dovre-king. A Court Troll. Several other Trolls. Young trolls of both sexes. A few witches, Brownies, Dwarfs, Goblins, etc. An ugly brat. A Voice in the darkness. Bird-cries. Kari, a peasant woman. Mister Cotton, Monsieur Ballon, the Herr von Eberkopf and Trumpeterstraale, gentlemen travellers. A Thief and a Receiver. Anitra, the daughter of a Bedouin chief. Arabs, slave-girls, dancing girls, etc. The Memnon Statue (singing) and the Sphinx at Gizeh (dumb figure). Begriffenfeldt, Professor, Doctor of Philosophy, Director of the Lunatic Asylum at Cairo.
Huhu, a language reformer from the coast of Malabar. Hussein, an Oriental Minister. A Fellah with a royal mummy. Several lunatics with their keepers. A Norwegian ship-captain and his crew. A Strange Passenger. A Minister of the Church. A Funeral Procession. A Bailiff. A Button-moulder. A Lean Person.
The action, which takes place in the early 19th century and ends
about the year 1860, is partly played out in the Gudbransdal
and its mountains, partly on the coast of Morocco,
in the Sahara desert, in the madhouse at Cairo, at sea, etc.
A hillside with leafy trees near Aase's farm. A stream foams
downwards. On the other side an old mill. A warm summer day.
Peer Gynt, a powerfully built young man of twenty, comes down
the footpath. Aase, his mother, small and slight, follows
after him. She is angry and scolds.
(without stopping)
It's all lies again!
(stops)
(right in front of him)
Staying away from home for weeks
Just in the busiest times,
To go hunting in the mountains...
Coming home with your coat torn,
Half-clothed and without game;...
And then you think you can
Impose your hunter's lies
On me!...
Well, where was it you saw the buck?
(laughs mockingly)
Hidden behind brushwood
He was digging in the hard snow
For moss...
(as before)
Heard the crunch of his hoof,
Saw the branches of one antler.
Then, cautiously, between stones,
I crept forward on my belly.
There hidden I peered up;...
Such a buck, so fine and fat,
You never saw in your life!
And, bang! the buck fell to the ground.
But as soon as he went down
I was astride his back,
Grabbed him by his left ear,
Had just drawn my knife
To stab him in the neck;...
Hey! then he begins to scream,
Stands up again on his feet,
Throws back his antlers so
That I lose my knife and sheath;
He grips me like a vice round the loins,
Twines his horns round my legs
So I'm caught as in a clamp,...
And so he runs at a stretch
Straight over the Gendin ridge!
(involuntarily)
Seen the Gendin ridge?
It's half a mile long,
Narrow... no wider than a scythe,
Over glaciers, loose stones,
Sharp edges, grey and steep,
You can see on either side
Black water in the depths
Sleeping, more than thirteen hundred
Fathoms below, hemming in the mountain...
Along there he and I sped
Swift as an arrow through wind and weather.
I never rode such a beast!
In the midst of that wild ride
A crackling as of sun-sparks.
Eagles' backs swam brown
In the dizzy deep space,
Halfway between us and the water,...
Then drifted away again like foam.
Drift-ice broke along the edges,
But the sound could not be heard;
Whirlpool-fairies danced but
Singing, swirling round and round,
Before my eyes, and my ears!
(giddy)
At a terribly steep place,
A ptarmigan flies up
From the cleft where it sat,
Flutters cackling, frightened,
Up, right in front of the buck's feet.
He quickly half-wheels to the right,
Then with a giant leap
Plunges down into the depths!
(Aase staggers and grabs at a tree trunk. Peer Gynt continues).
Beneath us a bottomless deep!
First we went through a layer of mist,
Then through a whole swarm of gulls,
Which fled in all directions,
Screeching, scattering apart.
Onward again! Onward down!
But from the depths there gleams
Something white, like a reindeer's chest...
It was our own image, O mother,
That, rising from the mountain lake,
Rushed to the surface
In as wild a course
As that which drove us down.
(gasping for breath)
Met at the same moment,
So that the foam splashed us white.
Yes, there we lay floundering...
But after a while we reached
A spot where we landed,
The reindeer swam, I hanging onto it;...
I went home...
(snaps his fingers, spins on his heel and adds:)
Both legs unbroken?
Your backbone whole?
O, my God,... I praise and thank you
That you have protected my son...
Well, your trousers are in tatters;
But that's nothing to worry about
When you think what much worse
Could have happened on such a trip...!
(suddenly stops, looks at him open-mouthed and wide-eyed,
cannot find words for a long time, and finally bursts out:)
Oh you devilish liar!
Good God, what a liar you are!
I remember it now,
Heard it as a girl.
It happened to Gudbrand Glesne...
But not to you...
It can happen more than once.
(angry)
Over and over, embellish, dress up,
Put in a brand-new suit
So that no one recognizes it.
And that's what you've done;
Made everything big and wild,
Embellished with eagles' backs...
And all those other trimmings —
A bit added here, a bit taken there —
You get someone so worked up
That a person no longer recognizes
What they've known for years!
I'd give him a thrashing without mercy!
(crying)
If only I were under the earth!
Neither tears nor prayers help,...
Peer, you are and remain lost!
Yes, you are absolutely right,...
Now just be good again...
Can I just suddenly be good,
With a beast like you for a son?
Isn't it hard enough for me, a poor widow
With no support, always shame for reward? (cries again)
What was left for us
Of Grandfather's rich days?
Where are all the bags of money
Of old Rasmus Gynt?
Father set the money rolling,...
Scattered it around like sand,
Bought land all over the country,
Rode in gilded carriages...
Where is all that was squandered
At the great winter feast,
When the guests threw bottles, glasses
Down onto the floor!
Look around! By the other window
There's not a whole pane of glass left.
Fence and gate are broken down,
The cattle stand in wind and weather,
Fields and acres lie fallow,
Every month I have to mortgage...
Often when luck was lacking
It came back at a gallop!
But you're a fellow, you,...
Always dashing and bold,
Well-spoken, as when the priest —
Who came from Copenhagen
And asked your baptismal name —
Swore that many a thoroughbred prince
Would like to bear such a name.
And in thanks your father then
Gave him a horse and sleigh as a present,
For his very kind word...
Yes; then there was fun enough!
The parson, the captain and all their hangers-on
Were here daily,
Eating, drinking with all their might.
But in need one knows one's friends;
Everything became empty and quiet
From the day that "Jon the money-bag"
Went off with his pack.
(dries her eyes with her apron).
You ought to be staff and support and help
For your poor old mother,...
You ought to manage the farm and house,
See that nothing goes to ruin;...
(cries again).
All these years, you scoundrel!
At home by the hearth you lie,
Roll around in ashes and coals;
In the village you chase all the girls
Out of the dance hall when you come,...
You disgrace me everywhere,
Fight with the worst brawlers...
(runs away)
(runs after him)
That you were number one
When there was that fight recently,
Over at Lunde... where you all
Went at each other like mad dogs?
Or wasn't it you who dislocated
Smith Aslak's arm that day...
Or was it only a finger?
(angry)
(rubs his elbow)
Such a braggart, such a rake,
A drunkard, an arch-liar,
Did you let a fellow like that beat you?
(cries again).
But that this had to happen
Is the worst mockery.
Even if he is such a boss;...
Must you be the least?
You always have to complain.
(laughs).
Again?
So dry your tears;...
(clenches his left hand).
I held the whole smith bent;
(clenches his right hand).
Into the grave with your behaviour!
Twenty thousand times better;
Dear, angry mother mine,
Come, trust my word,
The whole village will honour you yet,
Just wait till I have done something great...
Truly great.
(mockingly)
To mend all the tears in your trousers yourself!
(angry)
What little sense he had!
Is the saying, if I'm not mistaken!
You're simply crazy...
Though, to be honest, I must say,
If you didn't every day
Do mad pranks and lie,
You would have come out well.
The Haegstad man liked you;
You could have had her
If you had managed properly...
To resist his daughter;
He's a real stubborn fellow,
But Ingrid doesn't give in either;
And wherever she goes, he
Comes limping after her, grumbling.
(begins to cry again).
A farmer's daughter! Just think,
If you had been wiser
You would have been her bridegroom now,...
You, who now go about in rags!
(quickly)
That courtship is over!
Now it's too late... already lost...
(sobbing)
Riding through the air on your reindeer,
Mads Moën has got her!
To the cart... (makes to go).
They are having the wedding tomorrow...
To laugh and mock you too?
(yodels and laughs at the same time).
Fetching the horse would take too long...
(lifts her up).
I'll carry you to the wedding house!
(wades through the stream).
We're drowning...
You'll end on the gallows!
(pulls his hair).
It's slippery here, the ground is greasy.
That won't put anyone off.
There; now we scramble up again...
Now we play Peer-and-reindeer;...
(gallops).
(comes to land).
That's the driver's reward...
(boxes his ears)
That's a stingy reward!
Be my advocate. You are clever;
Speak to him, the old fool;
Tell him Mads Moën is worthless...
What a fellow Peer is.
I'll give him a piece of my mind,
I'll paint a pretty picture
Of your pranks and tricks...
(splutters with rage)
Till the farmer sets the dog on you
As if you were a beggar!
I could crush stones!
I could eat gravel, bah!
Let me go!
He shall know what you are!
(puts her on it. Aase screams).
(throws a sod of grass at him)
(closer).
Don't kick your legs,
Don't pull at the stones,...
Otherwise, remember, it could go wrong...
You might fall.
The ground would swallow you up!
Your blessing on my journey.
Will you? Say?
Even if you are such a boss!
Just sit still, I won't be long.
(goes off, but turns back, raises his finger warningly
and says):
Remember not to struggle!
(exit).
Buck-rider! Liar!
Will you come!... No, there he goes
Off away...!
(shouting:)
(Two old women with sacks on their backs come down the path towards
the mill).
If it lasts much longer I'll go to heaven!
I want to get down! That devilish boy...
You've just seen.
Because I must get to Haegstad quickly now...
Because the smith was also coming there.
(wrings her hands)
Who knows if they'll kill him!
Console yourself then that it was his fate!
(calls upward).
Has put Peer Gynt on the roof there!...
A small height with bushes and heather. Behind it, separated by a
gate, runs the road.
Peer Gynt comes up a footpath, walks quickly to the gate, stops
and looks out where the view opens up.
(half climbs over the gate; then hesitates).
(shields his eyes and looks out).
Perhaps it's wisest if I turn back.
(pulls his leg back again).
And sneer so it burns right through my soul.
(takes a few steps back and absent-mindedly plucks leaves).
Or if I could play a trick on them unnoticed...
Or if nobody knew me... Above all something strong
Would be good, then the laughter wouldn't sting so much.
(Looks around suddenly as if frightened; then hides among
the bushes. Some people with food gifts pass by and then
descend towards the wedding house).
(The people pass on. Shortly afterwards Peer Gynt comes out
and looks after them, red with shame).
(softly)
Oh, let them talk!
They can't make me any smaller with that.
(Drops down into the heather, lies on his back for a long time with his
hands under his head, staring into the air).
What a strange cloud! It looks like a horse.
And a man is riding on it,... and saddle and reins...
Behind him rides a witch on a broomstick.
(Laughs softly to himself).
Of a Peer!...
(A moment later he closes his eyes).
Peer Gynt rides at the front, and a whole troop follows him...
The gear is silver-mounted, the hooves are golden.
He himself wears gloves, sabre and scabbard,
A very long cloak lined with silk.
Brave are those who follow him trustingly.
Yet no one sits in the saddle like him,
Yet no one shines in the sunlight like him.
People over there at the gate by each other,
Take off their hats and stare upward;
Women curtsy too. All acknowledge
Emperor Peer Gynt and his thousands of men.
Beneath him glitter like pebbles
Silver coins, which he scattered on the road.
All in the village are now rich as counts.
Peer Gynt rides through the air across the sea!
England's prince stands on the shore waiting for him;
So do all the English maidens.
England's great and England's emperor,
Wherever Peer rides by, rise from their seats.
The emperor takes the crown from his head, saying....
SMITH ASLAK (to a few others as they pass on the other side of
the gate).
Look at that, Peer Gynt, that drunken swine!
(half rises)
(leaning over the gate, taunting:)
(to the others:)
(jumps up)
But say, where have you come from last?
Six weeks away... bewitched in the mountains?
(winks at the others)
(after a moment)
That you used to like that girl over there.
(draws back a little)
If Ingrid has rejected you, there are more...;
Both bachelors and widowers are coming...
Good evening! I'll greet the bride from you.
(exit, laughing and whispering).
turns half away).
For all I care, that Haegstad girl can marry
Who she likes, It doesn't matter a jot to me!
(looks down at his legs).
If only I had something new to wear.
(stamps on the ground).
Rip that contempt out of their hearts!
(suddenly looks around).
Hm, it seemed to me just... No, there was no one...
I'll go home to mother.
(goes up the road, but stops again and listens towards the
feast house).
Now the dance begins!
(stares and listens; goes back step by step; his eyes
sparkle; he rubs his legs).
What a swarm of girls! Six... eight at the very least!
Oh, devil take me,... I'll join in!...
But mother, still sitting on the mill roof...
(his eyes wander downward again; he jumps and laughs).
Yes, Guttorm plays away briskly!
It stamps and roars like a falling stream.
And that troop of lovely, fresh girls!...
Yes, devil take me, I'll join in!
(clears the gate in one leap and runs down).
guests. There is lively dancing on the grass. The fiddler sits
on a table. The kitchen-master stands in the doorway. Kitchen maids run
back and forth between the various buildings; older people sit
here and there talking together.
A WOMAN (goes to sit by a group that has settled on some beams).
Oh, the bride? Yes, she's crying a bit,
But who takes any notice of that?
(in another group)
A LAD (to the fiddler, as he rushes past with a girl by the hand).
Heisa, Guttorm, play your hardest!
(in a circle around a boy who is dancing)
(dancing)
THE BRIDEGROOM (comes whining to his father, who is standing talking
with a couple of others, and pulls his jacket).
She won't, father; she is so stubborn!
(turns back to the others. The bridegroom wanders away across
the forecourt).
(from the rear of the house)
Peer Gynt has arrived!
(who has just arrived)
(goes towards the house).
(to the girls)
(to the others:)
PEER GYNT (arrives heated and excited, stops in the middle of the
crowd and claps his hands).
Which of you can dance the best?
(to one he approaches)
( likewise )
(to a fourth:)
(turns away)
(to a fifth:)
(as she runs off:)
(a moment later, half aloud:)
(turns quickly to an older man)
(Peer Gynt suddenly becomes still. He peers timidly from under his brows at the group. Everyone looks at him, but no one says anything. He goes to other groups. Wherever he goes, it becomes quiet; as he moves away, they smile and watch him.)
(softly)
Scratching and grating like sawdust under files!
(He slinks along the fence. Solvejg, with little Helga by the hand, enters the courtyard, accompanied by her parents.)
(to another, close to Peer Gynt)
PEER GYNT (steps in the way of those coming, points at Solvejg, and asks the man:)
May I dance with your daughter, say?
(softly:)
We must go greet the people inside.
(they go inside).
If you're here, you must take a swig from the jug!
(looks steadily at those going inside)
(The steward goes away; Peer Gynt looks at the house and laughs).
Looked down at her shoes and her white apron...!
And all the while she held her mother's apron-string,
And carried a hymn-book wrapped in a cloth...!
I must see that girl. (makes to go into the room).
(comes out with several others)
The dance already?
(takes him by the shoulder to turn him around).
(the group goes away laughing to the dancers).
(in the doorway)
Come then!
How old are you?
(draws back her hand)
(runs off).
(pulls his mother by her skirt)
(softly and angrily)
(they go away).
(who comes with a whole crowd from the dancing-place)
(looks darkly at him)
(pulls out a pocket-flask and drinks).
Come Peer, drink!
(half aloud:)
Us your tricks at Lunde the other day.
(whispering:)
(form a ring around him)
What can you do?
I once drove him into a nut.
It was worm-eaten, you see!
(laughing)
Everything and more...
ONE FROM THE CROWD.
But he had to go in?
Oh, what a buzzing and rumbling there was!
He's long since got out again.
It's his fault that Aslak has such a grudge against me.
If he would crack the nut for me.
"Certainly!" He laid it on the anvil;
But Aslak handles things very roughly;…
And at once strikes it with his hammer...
But the other was cunning, and shot like a flame
Right through the roof and tore the wall.
Ever since that day he can't stand me.
(general laughter).
That's not necessary; I know most of it
From before...
(with a wave of his hand)
Right through the air on wild horses!
Oh, I can do all sorts of things, you know.
(again uproarious laughter).
I'll ride like a storm-wind over you all!
The whole parish shall go on foot before me!
(threatens them)
(half-drunk)
(The crowd disperses, the older ones angry, the younger ones mocking and laughing).
(close to him)
(curtly)
(turns away from him. Solvejg crosses the dance-place with Helga by the hand).
(Peer Gynt goes towards them, with beaming eyes).
Now I'll whirl you merrily around!
Come now, lass, and don't be so stubborn!
(pulls her arm back)
(goes off with Helga).
Right through their carcasses... all of them!
(nudges him with his elbow)
(absent-mindedly)
(a thought strikes him; he says softly and vehemently:)
Have you changed your mind, then?
(Solvejg tries to pass, he steps in her way).
(hastily)
But that was from spite because you refused me.
Come now!
Who hang their heads? Or isn't he, now?
Your father, your mother, and you too?
Well, can't you speak?
I'll come to you like an evil spirit!
I'll come to your bed when the clock strikes twelve at night.
If you hear blowing and hissing around you,
You needn't think it's only the cat.
That will be me! I'll tap your blood in a cup;
And your little sister I'll eat up completely;
Yes, you must know that I'm a werewolf by night.
I'll bite you in the loins, in the back...
(suddenly changes and begs as if in terror:)
(looks darkly at him)
(goes into the room).
(comes sauntering up again)
(They go behind the house. At the same moment a whole crowd comes from the dance-place; most of them are drunk. Confusion and noise. Solvejg and Helga come with their parents and a number of older guests to the door.)
(to the Smith, who stands in front of the crowd:)
(pulls off his jacket)
Either Peer Gynt or I must clear the field.
(to the Smith:)
(throws off his jacket)
(to Solvejg:)
(comes with a stick in her hand)
I'll give him a beating he'll remember!
(rolls up his sleeves)
(spits in his hands and nods to Aase)
Aase still has teeth and nails!
Where is he? (calls across the dance floor) Peer!
(comes running hard)
by the Almighty!
Come, father, mother,...!
(screams)
(drops the stick)
(as if fallen from the sky)
The fellow climbs like a goat!
(weeping)
(makes a threatening gesture at him)
Do be careful!
(comes bareheaded and pale with rage:)
END OF THE FIRST ACT
Second Act
A narrow footpath high up in the mountains. Early morning. Peer Gynt walks hastily and angrily down the path. Ingrid, half-dressed, in bridal attire, tries to hold him back.
(crying)
Where are you going?
(wrings her hands)
Each goes his own way now.
To the devil with all women...
Except one...!
To your father!
What you are saying.
Do you have long golden hair?
Do you blush looking down at your apron?
Do you hold tight to your mother's skirts?
Tell me?
This spring?
Can you refuse when I ask something?
Tell me!
(blocks his way)
If you leave?
If you take me...
(bursts into tears)
(threateningly)
(is silent for a while, then shouts loudly)
To the devil with all women!
(turns her head and shouts mockingly upward)
(They each go their separate ways).
Aase, desperate, shouts and looks around in all directions. Solveig has difficulty keeping up with her. Her parents and Helga come a ways behind them.
(beats about her and tears her hair out)
Water and mountains and stormy skies!
The heavens gather mists to make him stray!
The treacherous lake wants to take his life!
Boulders and avalanches want to strike him down;
And then the people! If they catch him...!
But they won't succeed! I cannot lose him yet
That the devil should have put that into his head!
(turns to Solvejg)
He, who only knew how to brag and lie,
And was brave only with his mouth;
He, who never did anything worthwhile;...
He...! You could both cry and laugh...!
Oh, so much we have endured!
Yes! For my husband, you know, was a drinker,
Pulled all sorts of crazy stunts;
The money was wasted, poverty and want came.
Meanwhile we stayed at home together
And did our best to forget the misery;
For I could not fight against it well.
It is so hard to face one's fate;
And a person still wants to distract himself from sorrow,
And see how best to divert his thoughts.
One does it with brandy, another with tales;
Oh yes! So we took fairy tales then
Of princes and spirits and all sorts.
Also bride-stealing sometimes. But who would have thought
That such things would still haunt him? (becomes anxious again).
Huh, what a scream! That's a water spirit or dwarf...
Peer! Peer!... Up there on the mountain...!
(Runs quickly up a small hill and looks out over the water, the others come to her).
(silently)
(sighs softly)
He is such a fellow. There's no one like him.
I am foolish; but my boy is good!
(still subdued and with gentle eyes)
(frightened)
(eagerly)
You will see, if only he stays alive.
(shrieks)
Who knows if he might not come to his senses then.
(dizzy)
Come along! It's about...
If he is in the bog, we will pull him out;
If he is bewitched, we will have him exorcised.
For helping to search for him!
There was not one who wanted to join the search...
Remember,... his life is at stake!
(He and his wife go ahead).
(to Aase)
(dries her eyes)
Everything!
(smiles and lifts her head proudly)
Than I of listening.
Low, treeless hills below the high mountains; further back mountain peaks. The shadows are already long; it is late in the day.
PEER GYNT (comes bounding in large leaps and stops on the slope).
The whole village is after me!
Armed with rifles and clubs they are.
I can hear old Haegstad roaring ahead...
Everywhere it's known: Peer Gynt has gone off!
That's something else than fighting with a smith!
That's living! I feel like a bear, every limb.
(strikes around him and makes a leap in the air).
Pull up pines by the root!
That is life! That strengthens and hardens and makes one cheerful!
To hell with all those feeble lies!
(run over the hills shouting and singing)
Mountain spirits! Will you come sleep with us?
(stifling laughter)
Now he is married to a half-worn widow.
Now they wander together as vagabonds.
Now his head grins on a pole.
Mountain spirits, will you come sleep with us?
(with a leap stands suddenly among them)
(kisses him)
(also)
(dances in their midst)
With laughing eye; the throat constricted!
THE DAMSELS (make long noses at the mountain peaks, shout and sing).
Trond in the Valleys! Beard and Kaare!
Mountain spirits!... Would you sleep with us?
(They dance over the hills with Peer Gynt in their midst).
(arrives confused and wild)
Oh, what a glittering gate!
Stop! Stay! It already retreats
Further and further back!
High on the tower the weathercock
Flutters its wings;...
Turning blue in distant chasms
Everything flees... the mountain closes again.
What are those trunks and roots
Springing up from crevices there?
Those are giants with heron legs!
Now they too sink away.
Like rainbow streaks it darts
Painfully into eye and brain.
What is that bell-ringing now?
What presses heavy on my eyes?
Oh, how it churns in my forehead...
That ring that burns me like fire...!
I can no longer remember
Who the devil put it on me!
(sinks down).
Lies and delusion?
Up against wall-steep slopes
With the bride... and a day in a daze
Chasing falcons and vultures,
Threatening troll folk,
Frolicking with wild maidens;...
Lies and delusion!
(stares long upward).
To the south the geese go.
And I must struggle and plod here
In mud and filth, knee-deep! (jumps up).
I want to join! I want to wash myself clean in
The bath of the sharpest winds!
I want up! I want to beautify myself
In the radiant sunshine!
I want away, far over the mountains,
I want to ride until I forget everything;
I want to go over salty seas,
And high over England's prince;
Yes, just look up, girls;
What I do is nobody's business;
Why do you stand waiting below...?
Yes, maybe I will fall down after all.
Where have those eagles gone now?...
The devil has taken them!...
Now a high gable rises;
Ever larger becomes the pointed roof;
From stone rubble the whole house grows up;...
Look, the door stands wide open,
Ah, now I recognize the house,
That is grandfather's new place!
Gone is the old hovel,
Gone the gate that was about to fall.
And all the windows shine;
There is a feast in the great hall.
There I heard the provost just now
Tap his glass with his knife;...
There the captain throws his bottle...
The mirror shatters into pieces;
Let it go! Let everything go!
Hush, mother; it does not matter!
The rich Jon Gynt feasts now;
Hurrah for the Gynt family!
What is that yelling and shouting?
What a noise and racket?
The captain calls for Peer-son,...
The provost wants to drink to me.
Forward, Peer Gynt, inside,
There the verdict rings:
Peer, you are of great descent,
And something great you shall become one day!
(He runs forward, but bumps his nose against a boulder, falls and lies still).
A mountain slope with large rustling deciduous trees. Stars twinkle through the leaves; birds sing in the treetops. A woman dressed in green walks across the slope. Peer Gynt follows her with various loving gestures.
(stops and turns around)
(makes a cutting motion across his throat)
As true as you are a beautiful woman!
Will you have me, say? You will see how decent I am;
You will not have to weave or spin.
You will have food, as much as you can eat.
I will never pull your hair...
A king's son would surely not beat women.
That is the custom among the Round folk:
All our property has two sides.
If you come with me to my father's castle
It could happen that, going by appearances,
You would think you were standing in a barren stone desert.
The gilding would seem full of rust and soot,
And perhaps you would think the glittering windows
Were stuffed with rags and tatters.
(calls back toward the mountain)
(A gigantic pig comes running with a rope for harness and an old sack as a saddle. Peer Gynt swings onto it and takes the woman in front of him).
Hurry, hurry, my fiery steed!
(tenderly)
You never know what can happen!
(whips the pig which gallops away)
The Troll King's loveliest maid!
(with a skimming ladle)
(with a slaughtering knife)
(beckons his followers closer).
Things have gone downhill for us in recent years;
We have lost the right foothold,
And we must not spurn help from the people.
Moreover, the young man seems without faults;
And strongly built too, as far as I can see.
Too bad that he has only one head;
But well, my daughter also has no more;
Three-headed trolls are going out of fashion,
Even two-headed ones are hardly seen anymore;
And then those heads are still only so-so.
(to Peer Gynt).
And the other half when I am done for.
You must also make a couple of promises;
Everything is broken if you break one,
And you will not leave here alive then...
First, you must promise never to look back
At what lies beyond the borders of the Round;
You must shun day and deed,... every spot of light.
(rises from his throne).
(to Peer Gynt)
To crack the king's riddle!
Big ones want to pinch and small ones to wring;...
Just like with us, if they dared.
But morning is morning, and evening is evening,
So difference remains nonetheless.
Now I will tell you what it consists of:
Out there, under the shining vault,
Among humans it says: Man, be yourself!
In here with us, among the troll folk,
It says: "Be yourself... enough!"
Word, must henceforth be your motto.
(scratches behind his ear)
Our simple, homely way of life.
(He beckons; two trolls with pig heads, white nightcaps, etc. bring food and drink).
The cow gives cakes and the ox gives mead;
Do not ask if they taste sour or sweet;
The main thing is, and that is not to forget,
That it is home-made.
(pushes the things away)
I will certainly never get used to that custom.
And whoever owns it has my daughter's favor.
(crying)
In time perhaps that drink will seem less sour.
Come on! (gives in).
Do you spit?
For know this, to the honor of Dovre,
Everything here is mountain work, nothing comes from the valley,
Except the silk ribbon at the end of the tail.
(angry)
Chamberlain, tie my Sunday tail on him.
I am simply making you a courtly suitor.
You will wear a bright yellow ribbon,
And that counts here as the greatest honor.
(pensively)
And one must adapt to custom.
Tie it on!
(angry)
Do you also demand my Christian faith?
Faith is free here, no one lays claim to it;
By deeds and conduct one recognizes the troll.
If we only agree on deeds and actions,
You may well call faith what we call fear.
A more sensible fellow than one would think.
That is also a difference between you and us...
But now let the seriousness be over;
Now we will feast ears and eyes.
Playmaid, play! Let the Dovre harp sound!
Come, dancemaid! Show how one dances in Dovre!
(Music and dance).
What do you see, say?
A bell-cow beats with its hooves on catgut;
A pig in knee-breeches trips along.
(crying)
When my sister and I play and dance!
You know, is not meant badly.
Was, I swear, very lovely.
It sometimes lingers remarkably long;
If it gets a bruise in our company,
It becomes a scar, but heals quite quickly.
My son-in-law is as accommodating as possible;
Good-naturedly he took off his Christian clothes;
Good-naturedly he drank the mead,
Good-naturedly even let his tail be tied on...
So willing in short, for everything I asked,
That I certainly thought the old Adam
Was once and for all driven out the door;
But look, suddenly he is back again.
Yes, yes, then a cure is needed
For that stubborn human nature.
I'll make a little cut; then you'll squint;
But everything you see will seem sound and beautiful.
Then I'll cut out your right eye's lens...
(lays some sharp instruments on the table)
You'll get blinkers like an old nag;
Then you'll find your bride beautiful,...
And your eyes will never again make you see
Tripping pigs and a bell-cow...
He is the wise one, you are the fool!
You will be spared for your whole life.
Realize that your eyes are the source
Of the biting, tormenting tear-lye.
If your eye offends you, pluck it out.
But tell me! When will that heal again,
Become a human eye again?
But the Dovre king's gate lets no one out.
You have talent for being a troll. Right, he already
Behaves quite troll-like.
And that is what you want, isn't it?
For a bride and a kingdom thrown in,
I can put up with one thing and another.
But there must be measure in all things.
I accepted the tail, that is perfectly true:
But I can untie what another tied.
I threw off my trousers; they were old and patched;
But I can at least fasten them again if necessary.
And perhaps I will also see a chance to free myself
From that troll-like way of life.
I am willing to swear that a cow is a girl,...
An oath can always be quietly swallowed again;
But that you never again in your life become free,
That you cannot die as a decent human,
Must remain a troll all your days...
And especially that you can never turn back...
As the book says: to apply myself to that,
That is something I must say I pass on.
And then there is truly no joking with me.
You pale milksop! Do you know who I am?
First you offend my daughter here...
That you desired her and pursued her?
(whistles)
You fully acknowledge the intention;
But only what is tangible has force;
So you think that desiring means nothing?
Just wait; a light will soon dawn on you...
You will have your child sent home.
(wipes his sweat)
But so much is certain: done is done,
And also that your offspring will grow up;
Such a hybrid thing grows amazingly fast...
Girl, be sensible! And listen to reason.
You should know that I am no prince and not rich;...
And whether you measure or weigh me,
You will gain nothing by keeping me.
(The daughter faints and is carried away by troll maidens).
Wolf and sheep! Bite him and chase him into a corner!
(chased by the small trolls)
(tries to go up through the chimney).
Bite him from behind!
(tries to go down through the cellar hole).
PEER GYNT (fighting with a small troll that has bitten into his ear).
Let go, you filth!
(hits it on its fingers)
(runs around).
(they swirl around him)
(weeping)
(falls down).
(buried under the heap of trolls)
(Church bells in the distance).
The trolls flee with howls and roars. The hall collapses; everything sinks.
Pitch dark. Peer Gynt strikes out around him and cuts with a large branch.
(tries to go through at another spot but is blocked)
Look out! Hey! There it falls already, whizzing!
Saul slew hundreds; Peer Gynt slays thousands.
(strikes and cuts).
Keep to yourself; that doesn’t clear things up!
What are you?
First the riddle was black; now it seems gray.
Out of the way, Bøyg!
(tries to advance but meets resistance again).
Bøyg, who took a blow and yet is not wounded.
Bøyg, who is dead, and Bøyg who still lives.
(throws away the branch)
(fights his way through).
Hee hee, Peer Gynt, then you’ll reach the top alright.
(comes back)
Out or in, it’s the same path!
There he is! And there! All around!
As soon as I’m out, I’m back in the circle...
Name yourself! Let me see you! What are you then?
(gropes around)
No shape. Intangible! It’s like grabbing
Into a heap of buzzing half-awake bears! (shouts).
Strike out!
If only there were a goblin no older than a year!
But something to fight. But there’s nothing here...
Now he’s snoring! Bøyg!
(bites into his arms and hands)
I must see a drop of my own blood!
(One hears as the flapping of wings of large birds).
Don’t look so shy and sad at your
Prayer book! Throw it right in his eyes!
With such an hour of murderous play.
(collapses).
(In the distance, bells and psalm-singing are heard).
He was too strong. Women stood beside him.
Sunrise. In the mountains in front of Aase's mountain hut. The door is closed; everything is still and empty.
Peer Gynt lies sleeping against the outer wall of the hut.
(awakes, looks around with slow, sleepy gaze. He spits)
(spits again, immediately sees Helga, who approaches with a basket full of food).
Ah, little one, are you here? What do you want here, eh?
(jumps up)
(hiding)
The troll princess clung to me like a burr.
What do you say, eh?
(weeping)
Wait!
(holds her by an arm)
A silver button, I say! That’s for you...
Put in a good word for me!
(gently; lets her go)
(Helga runs off quickly).
END OF THE SECOND ACT
Act III
Deep in the pine forest. Gray autumn weather. Snowfall. Peer Gynt stands in his shirtsleeves chopping wood.
(he fells a large pine with crooked branches)
But it won't help you, you'll have to go.
(he chops again).
But I'll smash it, no matter how strong...
Yes, yes, you shake your gnarled arm;
It's understandable, you're angry, you're annoyed;
But however it is, you must yield to me...!
(suddenly stops).
Delusion! It's no coat of mail;
It's only a pine with rough bark...
It's hard work, chopping trees,
But madness to chop and dream at the same time.
That must end now,... staring into the mist
And letting oneself drift while wide awake...
You are banished! A hunted man in the woods.
(he chops hard for a while).
To bring you food, to set your table;
If you want to eat, fellow, help yourself,
Fetch something raw from forest or stream.
Look for some brushwood and light a fire,
Fiddle and cook and make do.
If you want warm clothes, catch a reindeer;
If you want to build a house, hew blocks of stone;
If you want to raise it, you must saw beams
And carry them on your back to the place....
(his axe sinks, he stares ahead).
Shall stand on the roof and rise high;
And on the gable, carved from wood,
A mermaid, with a fish tail instead of legs.
There must be copper on the lock and the vane.
I must also get some glass;
Strangers will then ask, amazed,
What shines so far away in the mountains.
(laughs grimly).
You are an outlaw, fellow!
(he chops again with fury).
Will suffice against wind and frost.
(looks up at the tree).
Then it will fall, as long as it is, by itself;
It already trembles in the young wood, rustling and moaning!
(he begins to strip the trunk of its branches; suddenly he listens and stands still with raised axe).
Someone is coming behind me!... So you do it,
You Haegstad farmer;... that's a treacherous trick.
(hides behind the tree and peers out).
He glances around timidly. What is he hiding
Under his tunic? A sickle! He stops and peers,
Lays his fist on his stick... and now? What is that?
Why does he stop and grab his sickle?
Oh dear! He cut off his finger!
His whole finger! He's bleeding like a pig!
There he goes off with his fist in a cloth.
(stands up).
Off! And without anyone forcing him...
Wait! Now I understand...! That is the only
Way to avoid the draft.
That's it. They wanted to send him to war,
And the fellow, of course, didn't want to go...
But to chop it off...? To lose it for good...?
To think of it, to wish it, even to will it;
And to do it! No, I don't understand that!
(Shakes his head briefly, then goes back to work).
everyday clothes are spread around; a cat in the bed. Aase and the neighbor woman are busy packing and tidying up.
(goes to one side)
(on the other side)
Where is...? Where can I find...? Tell me, where is...?
What am I looking for? I'm dazed!
Where is the key to the chest?
Being taken to Haegstad.
(weeping)
If I myself were carried out in the black chest!
Oh, how much must a person suffer and endure!
God have mercy! The whole house is empty!
What the Haegstad farmer left, the bailiff took.
Even the clothes on my back were not spared.
It's a shame to treat a person like this!
(sits down on the edge of the bed).
Hard was the old man, but harder the judgment;
There was no help anymore and no mercy;
Peer was not there, and no one could help me.
Ingrid came home safe and sound, after all.
They should have stayed with the devil;...
He is the guilty one, he, and nobody else;
The evil one drove my poor boy to it!
He is worse off than you might think.
(raises herself).
I will help; that's no more than my motherly duty;
Do as much as I can, when no one else does anything.
That jacket here, he can have it. I'll patch it.
I wish I dared snatch that fur from them too!
Where are the stockings?
(rummages in it)
Casting ladle, Kari! With that he played
Casting buttons, melting, and stamping.
Once, when there was a feast here, the boy came home
And asked his father for a lump of tin;
No tin, said Jon, but King Christian's coin,
Silver; one must see that you are a son of Jon Gynt.
God forgive Jon; but he was drunk,
And then he paid no attention to gold or tin.
Here are the stockings. Oh, what holes!
That'll take darning, Kari!
I feel so weak and sick and oppressed...
Two woolen shirts; they forgot those!
You can put one aside.
Or wait, we should keep both;
The one he has on is already so thin.
Forgiveness for this and many other sins.
Outside a newly built hut in the forest. A reindeer antler above the door. The snow lies deep. Dusk is falling. Peer Gynt stands in front of the door and nails a large wooden lock in place.
(laughs loudly now and then)
All the goblins, men and women.
A lock there must be, to lock the hut
Against all those malicious, sly dwarfs...
They come with the dark; they knock and tap:
Open up, Peer Gynt, we are quick as thoughts!
We shake the bed, we blow the fire,
Rise up through the chimney like fiery dragons.
Heehee! Peer, do you think with nails and planks
To block the entrance for the spiteful dwarf folk?
(Solvejg enters on snowshoes across the heath; she has a scarf over her head and a bundle in her hand).
I come because you called, so you must take me.
And you're no longer afraid to come close to me!
Much more later the wind secretly brought me.
A message was all your mother told me,
A message my dream when I lay down to sleep.
Nights so sad, and so empty all the days,
Told me that I must come now.
Life was extinguished down there;
I could no longer laugh or cry from the heart.
I wasn't quite sure what was going on in you;
I only knew that I was drawn to you.
I have no one who is father or mother to me.
I am free now of everyone.
To be mine?
You must be everything to me; my home and family.
(weeping).
But worse still to leave my father;
But the hardest of all to leave my mother's breast;...
No, God forgive me, the worst of all
Was the pain of parting from all... all!
That separates me forever from home and land.
Forever leave those whom I loved?
I may be caught if anyone sees me?
They asked where I was going; I answered: home.
No more bolts against spiteful dwarfs.
If you dare henceforth stay with the hunter,
Then my hut will be consecrated, I know.
Solvejg! Let me look at you! Not too close!
Just look! How radiantly fair you are!
Let me lift you up! How light and delicate you are!
If I must carry you, Solvejg, I will never tire!
I will not make you dirty. With outstretched arms
I hold you in front of me, you dear, merciful one!
Who would have thought I would carry you...!
Oh, but I have longed for you nights and days.
Here, you see, I have built and constructed;
But that must go now; it's poor and bare here...
You breathe so freely in the cool mountain breeze...
Down there it was stuffy; I felt oppressed;
That was also what drove me from the village.
But here, where you hear the rustling of the pines....
Here is peace and song!... here I feel at home.
Go inside! I'll just fetch some firewood;
It will be warm and cozy and bright,
You'll sit softly and suffer no cold!
(he opens the door; Solvejg goes inside. He stands still for a moment;
then he laughs aloud with joy and leaps into the air).
No, now the castle-building shall begin anew!
(he grabs the axe and is about to go back; at the same moment
an oldish woman in a torn green skirt emerges from the thicket. An ugly boy with a beer bottle in his hand limps after her, holding on to her skirt).
We are neighbors.
(tries to leave)
But I'll follow you and you won't get rid of me so easily.
I did that time when you came with promises.
Have you forgotten...?
Where did we last see each other?
(to the boy).
Have you no eyes? You can surely see
His leg is as lame as your whole nature.
(weeping).
As when you lured me over sloping hills?
The devil, when I gave birth in autumn, bent
My back, and you don't get better from that.
But if you want to see me beautiful again as before,
Just point that girl, who sits yonder, to the door.
Drive her out of your eyes and mind;...
Do that, dear friend, then I'll change my looks!
Hoho, Peer Gynt, no blow can hurt me!...
I'll come back every day anyway.
I'll look through the door and spy on you together.
If you sit with the girl in the twilight,...
If you grow tender... Peer Gynt... fancy a bit of love,...
I'll sit beside you and demand my share.
She and I, we'll have you turn and turn about.
Farewell, my lad; have your wedding tomorrow, you hear!
The boy, your lame one, you will raise him!
Devil's child, do you want to go to your father?
(spits at him)
I'll chop you with an axe, you wait; someday!
(kisses the boy)
You will make your father proud yet!
(stamping feet)
(shakes fists)
It's a pity for you, Peer!
Solvejg! my pearl, so pure, so spotless!
When his father was drunk and his mother beat him!
(She goes back into the thicket with the boy, who throws the beer bottle after him).
(after a long silence)
There my royal castle fell in ruins!
It raised a wall around her... and I was so close;
Suddenly the beauty was gone; my joy withered...
Give it up, fellow! There is no way
Straight through all that from you to her.
Straight through? There must be one to find.
There is something about repentance, if I remember rightly.
But what? What is it? I no longer have the book,
I've forgotten most of it, and here there's no one
In the wild forest to guide me...
Repentance? Years could pass
Before I was through it. Such a life would be dreary.
To smash what is gleaming and light and beautiful,
And then from the shards to make something new.
That works with a fiddle but not with a clock.
You must not trample what is still to grow.
But that was a lie from that witch's face!
Now all that horror is out of my eyes...
Yes; out of my eyes, but not out of my head.
It will haunt me everywhere.
Ingrid! And those three up on the mountain!
Must they also join? With screaming and fooling
Demand to be embraced,
To be carried carefully and tenderly?
Go around, Peer; even if your arm were as long
As the slenderest fir or a pine trunk,...
I believe I still held her too close to me
To set her down spotless and unharmed...
I must go around it, however it goes,
So that it brings me no gain and no loss.
You must shake off such things until you forget them...
(takes a few steps toward the hut, but stops again).
To go in with all those ghosts behind me?
(throws the axe away).
As I am now would be sacrilege.
(at the door)
(half aloud)
It's dark here, and I still have something heavy to fetch.
Whether long or short,... just wait.
(nods to him)
(Peer Gynt goes into the forest. Solvejg remains standing in the half-open door).
Aase's room. Evening. A brushwood fire burns in the hearth and lights the room. The cat on a chair at the foot of the bed. Aase lies in bed and restlessly feels the blankets with her hands.
It's taking awfully long.
I can't send for him anymore
And I have so much to tell him.
I don't have much time left!
So sudden! Who would have thought!
Oh, if I only knew
Whether I was too hard on him!
(enters)
There he is! My boy! My Peer!
But how dare you venture here?
Your life is in danger here!
I had to come to you now.
Now I can go in peace!
Where do you think you're going?
I don't have much longer!
(wrings his hands and paces back and forth)
And thought I was free here...!
Are your hands and feet cold?
If you see my eyes breaking,
Oh, close them gently then.
And then you must see about a coffin;
But, boy, let it be a fine one.
Oh no, it's true...
There's time enough for that.
Here you see the little
That's left. That's how people are.
(clenches fists)
What good does it do to hear it again?
That's where all the mischief comes from!
My boy, you were drunk after all:
Then no one knows what they're doing;
And then you rode that reindeer;
It's clear enough you were crazy!
Let the whole thing rest.
What is sad we will spare
Until later... another day.
(sits on the edge of the bed).
About this and that,
And forget the nasty and bitter,
And everything that hurts and torments...
Oh look, there's the old cat still;
So she lasted this long too?
You know what that means!
(smiling)
There's a girl who's gone to the mountains...
(quickly)
For both her parents' grief.
You ought to look into it
You, Peer, might know what to do...
I'd rather tell you the name
Of the girl, you know... of her...
Just about this and that,
And forget all the nasty and bitter
And everything that hurts and torments.
Are you thirsty? Shall I get you a drink?
Are you lying comfortably? The bed is short.
Let me see;... yes, it's true
This is the bed where I slept as a boy?
Do you remember how often you sat
At the foot end in the evening,
Tucked me in warm and snug,
And sang all sorts of songs?
When father was out carousing.
The quilt was the sledge's fur
And the floor a frozen fjord.
Tell me, mother, do you still remember?...
That was the wild horses...
We borrowed Kari's cat;
It sat on a wooden stool...
To the eastern castle of the sun,
To the Soria-Moria castle then
We went with a whoop-hey! across the floor.
A stick, found in the cupboard,
We used for a whip.
You looked back, as soon as we rode,
And asked me: aren't you cold?
God bless you, you old dear,...
You were a good soul...!
Why are you groaning like that?
My back, from that hard plank.
There now; isn't that soft?
(restlessly)
Let me sit at the foot end.
There now; we'll shorten the evening
With fairy tales and all sorts of games.
I feel so restless.
King and prince hold a great feast.
Just rest in the warm sledge
I'll drive you there across the field...
(throws a rope around the chair where the cat lies, takes a stick in his hand and sits on the foot end of the bed).
Giddyap! Get going, you Blackie!
Tell me, mother, aren't you cold?
Yes, yes; because you feel the cutting
When Grane starts trotting!
And groaning, so strangely wild?
Of the pine forest. Just sit still.
Where does that light come from?
Do you hear how they dance?
And invites us to enter.
Pouring the finest wine.
The provost's wife also comes
With coffee and sweets.
You are taking me to, poor soul!
(cracks the whip)
(cracks again)
It makes me so strange and tired.
Just a moment, and we'll be there.
Trusting you, my Peer!
In the castle there is a great crowd;
They push and throng through the gate.
Here comes Peer Gynt with old Aase!
What do you say to that, Saint Peter?
May mother not enter?
I think you can search long
Before you find such an honest soul;
I won't speak of myself;
I can turn back if need be.
If you wish to pour, I'll accept it gratefully,
If not, I'll also leave content.
I have made up as many lies
As the devil went to preach,
And called mother a hen
Because she sometimes cackled.
But her you must honor and respect
And see that she is well;
No better will surely come here
From anywhere, in this time...
Aha! There is God the Father!
Saint Peter, now you'll catch it!
(in a deep voice).
Mother Aase has free entry!"
(laughs loudly and turns to his mother).
Now something else is coming!
(anxiously).
Tell me, mother! What's the matter now...?
(goes to the head of the bed).
Speak, mother, it's me, Peer!
(gently touches her forehead and hands; then he throws the rope off the chair and says softly):
There, yes!... You can rest now, Grane;
For now the journey is over.
(closes her eyes and bends over her).
For slaps and tender care...
But now you must also thank me...
(presses his cheek against her mouth).
(The neighbor woman enters).
Her bitterest sorrow!
Dear Lord, how soundly she sleeps now!...
Or is she already...?
(Kari weeps by the corpse. Peer Gynt paces slowly around the room; finally he stops by the bed).
Let her be buried with all honor.
I must see how I can get away from here.
(exits).
END OF THE THIRD ACT
Fourth Act
On the southwest coast of Morocco. A palm grove. A laid table, sunshade, and straw mats. Deeper among the trees are hammocks. Out at sea lies a steam yacht with Norwegian and American flags. A rowboat is on the beach. It is towards sunset.
Peer Gynt, a handsome gentleman of middle age in elegant traveling clothes, a gold lorgnette hanging on his chest, presides at the table as host. Mister Cotton, Monsieur Ballon, and Messrs. von Eberkopf and Trumpeterstrale have just finished their meal.
To enjoy, then let him do so.
And death is death... What may I offer?
My cook and steward...
I drink to the health of all four!
Rarely found nowadays
In anyone alive and single,...
A certain... I don't know what...
A sheen of free spiritual development,
A possession of world citizenship,
A glance through the dense veil of clouds,
Unbound by prejudices,
Endowed with higher enlightenment,
A primal nature that knows life,
United at the zenith of the trilogy.
Is it not, monsieur, what you meant?
Sound not so pretty in French.
But shall we now seek the ground
Of the phenomenon...
It comes from my not being married.
Yes, gentlemen, that's as clear
As water. What must a man be?
Himself: I answer in short.
He must look after himself and his own.
But can he do that if he's a pack camel
For the weal and woe of others, sometimes?
I suspect, must have cost you struggle...
But I always came off with honor.
Once, though, I came close
To falling into a tight snare.
I was a fine, handsome fellow,
And she, the lady, was my choice,...
She was of royal blood...
(disdainfully)
You know...
(slaps the table)
(shrugs his shoulders)
Their pride in keeping their lineage
Free from stains of plebeian blood.
(apologetically)
There was something that required the marriage
To be concluded as quickly as possible.
But, I say frankly, the whole affair
Went against me from the start.
In some things I am rather peculiar,
And I prefer to be my own master.
And when my father-in-law then came
With the demand, though veiled,
That I should change my station and name,
Be raised into the nobility,
With much else that was unacceptable,
Not to say highly indelicate...
Then I withdrew decently.
I refused his ultimatum,...
Renounced my young bride.
(drumming on the table, seemingly absorbed)
In which a man can trust;
And knowing that is a comfort.
For unauthorized persons meddled
With loud cries in the affair;
Worst of all, the younger members of the family.
With seven I fought a duel.
That was a time I'll never forget,
Though I came off quite lucky.
It cost blood; but all that blood
Much increased my value,
And emphatically points to the fact,
As I said, of a guiding Fate.
That raises you to a thinker.
While another thinks he sees
Separate scattered images,
And can never find a solution,
You know how to combine it all.
With one measure you measure all things.
You sharpen a point on all your words,
Which then, like rays, emanate
From the light of one philosophy...
And you were never a student?
Simply an autodidact.
Methodically I have learned nothing;
But thought and pondered much,
And read much about everything.
I began late in life;
Then it falls a bit hard sometimes,
But by reading, page by page,
And taking in ripe and green.
History I took in pieces,
For I never had time for more.
And since in evil times one must
Have something for firm support,
I took religion in gulps.
That goes down easier.
One must not read too greedily,
But only see what may be useful...
(lights a cigar)
Consider my life's course.
How did I come to the West!
A poor fellow, with empty hands!
I had to toil hard for my bread;
Believe me, it was often hard.
But life, friends, is worth much;
And, as they say, death is bitter.
Well! Fortune, you see, was kind to me;
And old Fate not envious.
It went. And since I was also strong,
It went steadily better, better.
Ten years later I was called
The Croesus among Charlestown's shipowners.
Now my name flew from town to town;
Luck was now on board with me...
To our Union State of Carolina;
And idol statues also, to China.
With what is permissible... or not?
I myself sometimes felt that vividly,
And often found it odious.
But, once begun... as things go,...
It is hard to let it go again.
And at any rate it's not so easy
In such a large enterprise,
With thousands of others involved,
To break abruptly with such a business.
I have a dislike for "abrupt breaking";
But admit on the other hand that
I have always taken account
Of what is called the consequences;
And that crossing boundaries
Was always unpleasant to me.
Also, I was getting older;
I began to approach fifty,...
Got gradually graying hair;
And though my prosperity still increased,
The thought became painful to me:
Who knows how soon the hour strikes
When the judgment intervenes decisively,
Separating the goats from the sheep.
What to do? To stop the trade
With China was impossible.
Yet I found a way out. I began with
Something else in the same place.
In spring I exported gods,
In autumn I cleaned out priests;
Supplied them well with all necessities,
Like stockings, Bibles, rum, and rice...
It went. They worked tirelessly, and
For every god I sold,
A Chinese was converted, baptized.
Thus it worked neutralizing.
The field of mission never lay fallow,
For every god I peddled,
A priest kept under control.
I saw that it was no suitable business
For someone of my age.
One never knows when it will end.
And then the snares set for us
By the whole philanthropic host,
Not to mention the pirates,
And risk of wind and weather.
All together gave the decisive turn.
I thought: Come, Peter, reef the sails;
And see what you can still make good.
So I bought some land in the South,
Kept the last meat import,
Which was prime quality too.
They thrived, grew round and fat,
A joy for them and me.
Yes, I dare say, without boasting,
That I was like a father to them,...
Which also yielded good interest.
I built schools, that decently
Virtue might constantly remain
At a certain general level,
And strictly saw to it that her thermometer
Never sank below the mark.
Now, however, I have also
Withdrawn entirely from that;...
I sold the plantation with the whole
Bother, skin and hair.
At parting I gave them all,
Big and small, free grog.
Then the whole lot got a good drunk,
The widows also got snuff.
So I hope, insofar
That word is not an empty phrase:
He who does no harm, does good,...
Thus my earlier debt is paid;
And more than many can I support
My sins with many good works.
(clinks glasses with him)
A theory made into deed,
Divested of mists and night,
Despite all outward happenings!
PEER GYNT (who during the foregoing has been diligently helping himself from the various bottles).
We folk from the North, we understand
How to get through! The secret of it,
Through life, is simply:
Keep your ears always tightly shut,
So no adder may creep in.
To the once-and-for-all decisive. (drinks again.)
The whole art of daring something,
Having the courage of one's deed,...
Is that: to stand before free choice
On life's thousand winding paths...
To know for certain that all days
Are not finished with one day of struggle,...
To know that there stands open
A bridge that can lead you back.
That theory has always upheld me;
It has colored my life's course.
And that principle is an heirloom
From my ancestral family.
But a world citizen at heart.
What share of luck I got
I owe mostly to America.
My well-stocked bookshelves
To Germany's younger scholars.
From France I got, besides vests,
Manners and my little wit,...
From England I learned to do business
With a sharp eye for my own advantage.
The Jews taught me to wait.
Some sense for dolce far niente
I got from Italy...
And once, when hard pressed,
I defended myself, saved my life,
By means of Swedish steel.
(raises his glass)
Let us first of all pay homage!
(They clink glasses and drink with him. His head begins to grow hot).
But, Sir, now I would very much like to know
What you want to do with all your money?
(they move closer)
See, that's why I took you on board,
As traveling companions, in Gibraltar.
I longed for a circle of friends
To dance around my golden calf.
His sail solely to sail.
You have a goal, that is certain,
And the goal is...?
(nods)
The plan is not at all new;
It was the soul of all my ventures.
As a boy I rode in my dreams
Far on the clouds over the sea,
Rose up with sword and long mantle...
And came tumbling straight down.
But the goal remained fixed in me.
It is written or said
Somewhere, I don't remember where,
That if a man gains the whole world
And yet loses himself, such a man
Gains nothing but a crown of thorns.
That's what it says... or something like it;
And in that word lies much truth.
That makes me no one but myself,
If God is God, and not the devil.
(in rising excitement)
Of wishes, lusts, and desires,...
The Gyntian Self, that is the sea
Of demands, fancies, longings,
Of everything that makes my breast swell,
And makes me live as Gynt.
But just as God needs the earth
To exist as the world's God,
So I need money
To be a true emperor.
Yes, possibly for a day or four, five,
As emperor à la Lippe-Detmold.
But I want to be myself en bloc,
Want to be Gynt wherever I go,
Sir Gynt, I say, from head to toe!
(carried away)
That yields well...
And that's why I let the anchor drop here.
Tonight we go northward.
Newspapers I got on board
Report an important piece of news...!
(stands up with raised glass)
Helping him who has "pluck" himself...
(springing up)
I'll help with my French sword!
Lost there by King Charles!
(embraces Peer Gynt)
Misjudged you!
(shakes his hands)
Almost took you for a scoundrel.
(wants to kiss him)
Of the worst Yankee rabble...!
Forgive me...!
Now brilliantly the whole Gyntian host
Of wishes, lusts, and desires...!
(admiringly)
(also)
For Greece with ship and money?
(whistles mockingly)
And lend the Turk my silver.
PEER GYNT (is silent for a moment, leans on a chair and assumes a dignified air).
Hear now, gentlemen, it seems best to me
To part, before the last remnant
Of friendship goes up entirely in smoke.
He who owns nothing can easily risk something.
He who controls nothing of the world
But the strip of ground he shades,
Is made for cannon fodder.
But if one has his sheep safe on dry land
As I do, then the stakes are higher.
Go to Hellas! I will send, free of charge,
All of you there, armed.
The more you encourage the fight,
The better I can draw the bow.
So up for freedom and for right!
Storm forward! Give the Turks hell!
And then end your careers with honor
On pointed Janissary lances...
But excuse me. (taps his pocket).
I have money
And am myself, Sir Peter Gynt.
(He opens his sunshade and goes towards the grove where the hammocks hang).
But think what a chance for us
If the revolt succeeds and the country becomes free...
Surrounded by beautiful Greek women!
The hero's spurs once lost!
Proceeding from my fatherland...
God damn! I could weep!
I already saw myself as possessor of Olympus.
If what is said is true,
There must be copper mines there,
Which could be exploited.
And besides that, the river Castaly,
Of which so much has been told,
With falls, which are estimated,
At more than a thousand horsepower...!
Is worth more than Yankee dollars!
We soon drown in the crowd;
And where then is the chance for profit?
And suddenly to see it sink away!
(with clenched fists towards the yacht)
Turned into gold the negro blood!...
His empire is gone to the devil!
Forward!
The crew is easy to bribe.
On board! I annex the yacht!
(runs towards the rowboat)
That I also grab something. (follows him).
(follows the others)
But under violent protest...!
(follows him)
Peer Gynt runs along the shore. Then he pinches his arm, then again stands staring out to sea.
The yacht is putting out to sea! And at breakneck speed!
It's imagination! I'm asleep! I'm drunk and mad!
(wrings his hands)
(tugs at his hair)
Terrible! Oh no, it's truth, alas!
Such villainous friends...! Hear me, O Lord!
You are wise and just...! Oh, punish...!
(with raised arms)
Have mercy on me, or I must perish!
Let them reverse engines! Have them lower the boat!
Stop the thieves! Jam the rigging somehow!
Hear me! Set other matters aside!
The world can manage itself, in the meantime...
Oh heavens, he does not hear! He is deaf as usual!
That's a fine thing! A God who knows no remedy!
(waves upward)
I sent missionaries to Asia!
One good turn deserves another!
Oh, help me on board...!
(A flash of fire shoots up from the yacht and a thick cloud of smoke rises; a dull explosion is heard; Peer Gynt gives a scream and sinks down in the sand; gradually the smoke clears; the ship has disappeared).
(pale and softly)
Sunken instantly with man and mouse!
Oh, blessed be chance and my luck... (moved).
Chance? Oh, no, it was more than that.
Me He had to save; they had to perish.
Oh, praise and thanks that You preserved me,
Kept an eye on me, despite all my faults...
(takes a deep breath)
It is to feel oneself so specially protected.
But here in the desert! Where will I find food?
Oh, I'll find something. That is His affair now.
It's not so dangerous;... (loudly and coaxingly).
He will not want
That I, a poor little sparrow, should perish?
But be humble in spirit. And give Him time.
Let the Lord provide. Don't lose heart...
(suddenly starts up)
(chattering his teeth)
A lion, well, why not!
Those beasts, they keep their distance,
It's not a thing to start with who is boss.
They have instinct;... they feel, that's certain,
That it's dangerous to play with elephants...
But still... I'll go and find a tree.
Yonder acacias and palms are waving.
If I can climb into one, I'll be safe and calm;...
Especially if I also knew a couple of psalms...
(climbs up)
That word has often been weighed and considered.
(sits down comfortably)
To think nobly is more than to be rich.
But trust in Him. He knows well how much
As a cup of suffering, I, for my part, can bear.
He feels fatherly also towards my person...
(casts a glance at the sea and whispers with a sigh):
But economical,... no, that He is not!
Night. A Moroccan camp on the edge of the desert. Watchfires and resting soldiers.
(enters, tearing his hair)
(enters, rending his clothes)
(enters)
For him who cannot catch the thief!
(The soldiers mount their horses and gallop off in all directions).
PEER GYNT (in a tree with a broken branch in his hand, keeps a troop of monkeys at bay).
Fatal! A most wretched night! (strikes out).
Now they are throwing fruit. No, that's something else.
Apes are nasty animals, after all!
It is written: you shall watch and fight;
But I truly cannot; I am stiff and tired.
(is teased again; impatiently)
I must catch one of these fellows,
Hang and skin him, and with his hide
I'll cover myself, as best I can;
Then the others will take me for a real...
What are we humans? Nothing but a breath.
And one must adapt somewhat to local custom...
Another troop! They crawl and swarm...
Shoo! Scat! They act as if they were mad.
If only I had a stray tail!...
Something to make me look a bit like an animal...
What's that? Now they're perching above my head...!
(looks up)
(cringes in fear and is still for a while. The monkey makes a movement; Peer Gynt begins to coax and speak sweetly as to a dog).
There,... are you there, you old Sim!
He's good, yes, isn't he! He wants to be petted!
He won't throw;... he wouldn't think of it...
Knows me well! Peep-peep! We are good friends!
Ow-ow! Do you hear that I can speak your language?
Sim and I, we are related, aren't we?
Tomorrow Sim gets something nice, you hear...! You beast!
All the load over me! Ugh! What filth!..!
Or was it perhaps food? From the taste it was not recognizable;
But as for taste, habit does most;
Who was it again, the thinker who once said:
One spits and must hope that one gets used to it...?
There come the young ones too! (fights and strikes).
It's really too absurd,
That man, who is called lord of creation,
Should be forced to...! Police! Police!
The old one was mean, but the young ones are worse!
Early morning. A rocky area with a view of the desert. On one side a mountain gorge and a cave. A thief and a receiver in the gorge with the emperor's horse and robe. The horse, richly caparisoned, is tied to a stone. Riders in the distance.
Points of lances,...
Look! Look!
Already rolling in the sand.
Woe! Woe!
(folds his arms across his chest)
His son must steal.
His son must receive.
Yourself you must be.
(listening)
Quick, away! But where?
And great the Prophet!
(They flee, abandoning their loot. The riders disappear into the distance).
(enters, cutting a reed whistle)
The dung beetle rolls his balls of dung,
The snail crawls out of its shell.
Yes, the morning hour has gold in its mouth.
It is indeed a remarkable power,
Which nature has placed in the daylight.
One feels so calm, feels one's courage grow.
I would even dare, if need be, to take on an ox...
What stillness all around! Yes, rural joys...
Incomprehensible that I once despised them;
That one shuts oneself up in great buildings,
To let all sorts of people into one's house...
Oh, look, how busy the little lizard is,
Biting and thinking of nothing at all!
What innocence in the life of such a creature.
Each follows its Creator's command in obedience,
Preserves inalienably its own peculiarity,
Is itself, itself in play and strife,
Itself, as it became when first it came to be.
(puts on his lorgnette)
Petrification around. Only the head sticks out.
There it sits, peering as through a window,
At the world, and is itself... enough... (reflects).
Enough? Itself...? Where did that come from?
I read it as a boy in a religious book.
Was it in the Bible? Or in Solomon's proverbs?
Sad; I notice that year by year
My memory fails me for time and place.
(sits down in the shade)
Look, here ferns grow. Edible roots. (tastes one).
It is food more fit for the unreasoning beast;...
But it is written: force your nature!
And further it says: pride must be humbled.
And he who humbles himself shall be exalted. (uneasily).
Exalted? Yes, certainly, that will happen to me;...
Something else is impossible to imagine.
Fate will help me get out of here,
Will arrange it so that I rise higher.
This is a trial; later comes deliverance,...
If only the Lord lets me stay healthy.
(shakes off these thoughts, lights a cigarette, stretches out, and stares over the desert plain).
What an immeasurable, boundless plain.
Far in the distance a ostrich walks...
What could have been God's purpose
In creating all that empty and dead,
Which lacks all sources of life;
That scorched land, benefiting no one;
That piece of the world lying fallow;
That corpse, which never since the hour of creation,
Has given its Creator so much as thanks!
What is it for?... Nature is wasteful...
Is that the sea, in the east, that flat,
Gleaming there? No, it's just an illusion,
The sea is in the west; behind, and higher,
Dammed by a sloping chain of hills.
(a thought crosses his mind)
Dammed? A breakthrough, a canal,…
Like a stream of life the water would rush
Through the gorge and fill the entire desert!
Soon that whole glowing grave
Would become a fresh, billowing sea.
The oases would become islands,
Green the Atlas would rise as the northern border;
Sailboats would, like birds, cleave
The path, until now destined for caravans.
Fresh air would drive away the hot
Vapors,… dew would drip from clouds;
City after city the people would build,
And grass would grow around waving palms.
In the south, behind Sahara's wall, the land would become
A coastal land with new, rejuvenated culture.
Steam would drive Timbuktu's factories;
Bornu would soon be colonized;
Safe through Habesh the explorer would ride
In his wagon to the Upper Nile.
In the middle of the sea, on a fertile oasis,
I will transplant the Norse race;
My valley folk's blood is almost royal;
Crossing with the Arab will do the rest.
Around a bend, on a rising coast,
I will found the capital, Peeropolis.
The world is decrepit! Now comes the turn
Of Gyntiana, my young land!
(jumps up)
A golden key for the gate of the sea!
A crusade against the dead! Come! Open the bags
O miser, anxiously guarded by you.
People glow for freedom in all lands;…
Like Noah's donkey I will over the world
Send out a cry, bring the baptism of liberation
To the glorious, sultry, burgeoning shores.
I must move on! Capital from the East or the West!
My kingdom,… half in the East or the West!
My kingdom,… my half kingdom for a horse!
(the horse neighs in the rock cleft).
(comes closer).
Somewhere, that will can move mountains;…
But that it can also move a horse…!
Nonsense! It's my fate, that a horse stands here…
"Ab esse ad posse" and whatever else follows…
(puts on the clothes over his own and examines himself).
A man never knows what might happen…
Hurry, Grane, my proud steed!
(mounts the horse).
By the harness one knows the great lords!
(he gallops into the desert).
in his Turkish dress, resting on cushions. He drinks coffee and
smokes a long pipe. Anitra and a group of girls dance and
sing for him.
The Prophet, the lord, the all-knowing!
To us, to us he has come,
Riding over the sandy desert!
The Prophet, the lord, the never-mistaken.
To us, to us he has come,
Sailing through the sandy desert!
Sound flutes and drums,
The Prophet, the Prophet has come!
That flows through Paradise.
Kneel! Bow your heads in humility!
His eyes are stars, shining and glad.
But no creature can bear
The brilliant glow of those stars' rays!
Through the sand sea he came.
Gold and pearls sprang from his chest.
Where he rode, it became light.
Behind him it grew dark.
Behind him raged the Samum,… became aridity.
He, the glorious one, came!
Through the sand sea he came,
Adorned like a son of earth,
Kaaba, Kaaba, stands empty;…
He himself has proclaimed it!
The Prophet, the Prophet has come;
(The girls dance to muted music).
"No one is a prophet in his own country."…
This life here pleases me much better
Than that back there, among Charleston's shipowners.
There was something hollow in that whole business,
Something strange, impure, that always remained;…
I never felt quite at ease,
And never so entirely a man of the trade.
What did I actually do there, I ask myself?
Always turning in business like a mill horse;
When I think of it, I can't understand it;…
It came about; that's the whole thing…
To be oneself, based on gold,
Is like building one's house on sand.
For rings and chains and the rest,
People wag their tails and crawl in the mud;
They take off their hats for a tie pin with a crown,
But a ring or pin is not the person…
Prophet;… look, that's a pure position.
Then one knows on what footing one stands.
If it goes up, then it's oneself who receives
The homage, and not his pound sterling or shilling.
One is what one is, simply;
No accident or chance one is indebted to,
One doesn't rely on patent or permit either…
Prophet;… yes, that's just the thing for me.
And I became it so extremely unexpectedly,…
Solely because I rode through the desert,
And met these children of nature on my path.
The Prophet had come; that was it.
It was truly not my plan to deceive;
To answer prophetically is also not lying,
And I can always withdraw.
I am not bound; that's out of the question;…
The whole is more a personal matter;
I can go as I came; my horse stands ready.
In short, I am master of the situation.
(approaches the entrance of the tent)
They ask to be allowed to see your face…
Tell them to be off quickly:
Tell them I can hear their prayers from afar.
Add that I want no menfolk here!
Men, my child, are wretched folk,
Real scoundrels, as they call it!
Anitra, you can't understand, my child,
How base… I mean, how sinful they are!…
Well, enough. Dance for me, children!
The Prophet wants to forget sad thoughts.
(dancing)
Over the evil done by the sons of dust!
The Prophet is mild; let his mildness be praised;
He opens his Paradise for sinners!
(while following Anitra with his eyes during the dance)
By Jove! She's a tasty little thing, truly.
She has somewhat extravagant forms,…
Not entirely in accordance with the demands of beauty;
But what is beauty? Convention alone,…
A coin, only current according to place or time.
And it's precisely that extravagance that is attractive
When you know the normal through and through.
The average rarely induces a frenzy.
Either excessively full, or excessively thin,
Or frighteningly young, or repulsively old;…
I loathe the average…
Her feet… well, they're not particularly clean;
Nor her arms, that's true, especially one.
But that doesn't make her any the less, really;
I would rather say it's part of it…
Anitra, listen!
(comes closer)
If you don't believe me, then hear the proof:
I'll make you a Houri in Paradise!
It's deadly serious, as surely as I live, hear.
I will take your education in hand.
No soul! Yes, certainly, you are very stupid,
As they call it. I have experienced that with sorrow.
But still, for a soul you have room enough.
Come here! Let me measure your skull…
There is room; there is room; yes, I thought so too.
It's true,… you will probably never learn to think very deeply;
And you won't get a very big soul either;…
But oh, that doesn't really matter;…
You will get enough so that you needn't be ashamed…
If I may say so…
(points to his turban)
(delighted, while handing her the jewel)
Magnetically you attract me; I am a man,
And, as a highly renowned writer says:
"Das ewig weibliche zieht uns an!"
Moonlit night. Palm grove in front of Anitra's tent. Peer Gynt with
an Arabian lute in his hand sits under a tree. His hair and beard are
cut; he looks considerably younger.
(plays and sings)
And took the key away;
The northern breeze drove my ship on,
And fair women on the strand
Bewailed their loss.
Southward through the salt wet
Of the waves, the fleeing ship was chased.
Where palms wave fair and proud,
Encircling a mild, blue bay,
I set my ship on fire.
Then I mounted a sand-sea ship…
That ship had four legs;
It foamed under spur and whip…
I am a bird, catch me if you can,…
Sitting chirping on a branch.
Anitra, you are sweet palm wine,
That I can now testify!
Yes, even Angora goat cheese
Is only half as tasty as
You, Anitra, darling!
(hangs the lute over his shoulder and comes closer).
Did she hear my song?
Is she peeping behind the curtains,
Not draped in veils?…
Hush! It sounded as if with force there
A cork popped from a bottle.
Now again! And once more!
Sighs of love? No, song;…
No, it's audible snoring.
Sweet sound! Anitra slumbers!
Nightingale, stop your singing!
Or it will go badly for you,
If you still dare with your piping…
Yet, be it so, says the book.
The nightingale is a singer,
Ah, I am the same.
He, like me, catches with his tones
Tender hearts, soft and young.
Sultry night and sweet song
Are dear and favorable to both of us;
When we sing, we are both
We, Peer Gynt and the nightingale.
And that she sleeps, my darling,
Carries my love-drunkness to its peak;…
With the lips to the cup
Without tasting it…!
But there she is, in truth!
Better anyway that she came.
(from the tent)
I was woken just now by cats
That were having a wild hunting chase…
It was something quite different.
(closer)
What so completely filled me,
When I gave you my opal?
(frightened)
In the same breath as a cat!
A tomcat and a Prophet
Stand almost on the same footing.
From your lips.
You, like other girls, never see
Great men as they are.
I like to jest, you should know,
Especially with you two.
I am obliged by my position
To a false appearance of seriousness;
Duties make me constrained,
All those cares, that fuss,
That I have with everyone,
Often makes my life burdensome:
But that's only on the surface…
Away with it! In tête-à-tête
I am Peer,… yes, that's what I am.
Hup, we chase the prophet away,
And here I am myself now, Peer!
(sits down under a tree and draws her to him).
Under green palm fans!
I will whisper, you must laugh;
Later we change the roles;
And while I listen laughing
You whisper words of love!
(lies down at his feet)
Though I don't understand much at all.
Tell me, lord, can your daughter
Get a soul by listening?
You will get later.
When the East, red-gold-glowing,
Announces: now a new day breaks,
I will give you, my darling, lessons;
Oh, you will learn everything,
But in the quiet hours of night
It would be foolish if I wanted
To behave like a pedant
With musty, worn-out learning.
Actually, the soul is not
After all, so much the main thing.
It is the heart that matters most.
I see a glow like opals!
The bud of cowardice blossoming is evil;
Exaggerated truth is
Toothless wisdom's talk;
Yes, my child,… it's no lie,
There are people in the world
With an overburdened soul,
Who with difficulty reach clarity.
I knew one such,
A pearl from the whole bunch;
And even he missed the mark
In the throng of busy life.
Do you see the sand around the oasis?
If I but wave my turban,
I could fill the world sea
With its waters, the whole plain.
But I would be a fool
If I now created sea and lands.
Do you know what it is to live?
Dry-foot with the stream of time,
Wholly and solely as oneself.
Only as a man of power can I be
He who I am, my little dear!
An old falcon loses his feathers,
An old ram gets weak legs.
An old woman loses her teeth,
An old man gets withered hands,…
Everyone a withered soul.
To be young! To be young! I want to rule
As a sultan, ardent, real,…
Not on Gyntiana's shores,
Under leaf-wreathed palms,…
But founded on the freshness
Of maidenly thoughts…
Do you see now, my dear child,
Why I have chosen you
And so stirred your heart?
Why I, so to speak,
Founded my caliphate there?
Your longing must go to me.
I want omnipotence in my state!
You must be mine alone.
I want to be the one who holds you captive,
Like gold and precious stones.
If we part, life is nothing,…
At least, that is to say: yours!
Your whole being, all the empty spaces,
Without willing yes or no,
I want to know full of me.
The night-darkness of your locks,
And all your charms
Must… Babylon's gardens…
Beckon me to sultan's feasts.
Therefore it's not so bad either
That your little head remains empty.
With a soul, self-contemplation becomes
A very first duty.
Wait,… I just got an idea:
I will give you, if you want,
A nice ring for your ankle;…
That's best for both;
You get me as a soul, and besides
Everything remains… status quo.
(Anitra snores).
Past her, what I have said?…
No; that just characterizes my power,
For rocked by words of love
She floats away in sweet dreams.
(stands up and places jewelry in her lap).
Sleep, Anitra! Dream of Peer!
Sleep! And on your imperial forehead
Sleeping you pressed the crown!
Peer won, merely by his being,
An empire in this night!
Caravan route. The oasis far away in the background. Peer Gynt on his
white horse, races through the desert. He has Anitra in front of him
on the saddle.
I'm running away with you! I'm up to mad pranks!
The Prophet is not old yet, little goose!
Do you think this indicates old age, eh?
Home! To father-in-law! He's good!
We wild birds, having escaped the cage,
We will never come before his eyes again.
And besides, my child, in the same place
One must never stay too long;
One loses in esteem, the better one is known;…
Especially if one comes as a Prophet or something.
One must pass fleetingly, like a "bon mot."
It was really high time the visit ended.
These desert sons are fickle souls,
In the end prayers and incense were already lacking.
(wants to kiss her).
I'll dismount! I'll lead the horse as your slave.
(hands her the whip and dismounts).
Here I will walk in sand and wind,
Until a sunstroke hits me and I can go no further.
I am young, Anitra, keep that in mind!
Don't take my antics too seriously.
Playing pranks is a sign of youth!
So if your little head were a bit clearer,
Then you would understand, my lovely jewel,
Your sweetheart plays pranks… ergo he is young!
If there were vine leaves nearby, I would wreathe myself.
Yes, truly I am young! Hopsa! I'll dance!
(dances and sings).
Peck me, my dear little hen!
Hei! Hop! Let me skip;…
I am a happy little rooster!
Give me that heavy thing that dangles from your belt.
Without gold, loving hearts are content!
(dances and sings again).
He doesn't know which foot to stand on.
Pah, said Peer;… let it be!
Young Peer Gynt is a madman!
Come on! Take off!
Your belt too wide and your stockings too tight…
But do me a great displeasure,
It is sweet to suffer for loving hearts!
Hark, when we arrive at my castle,…
But you asked for displeasure…
(stands up)
Severe, but short,… for a day or two, three!
(She gives him a sharp blow with the whip over his fingers
and gallops back through the desert at full speed).
(stands for a while as if thunderstruck)
The same place. An hour later.
Peer Gynt, thoughtful and pensive, takes off his Turkish clothes,
piece by piece. Last he takes his traveling cap from his jacket
pocket, puts it on, and stands again in his European attire.
(throwing the turban far away from him)
That heathen stuff is no good either.
It was lucky that it only stuck in my clothes,
And hadn't penetrated deep into my marrow…
What did I actually want, I ask myself?
A man does best to live as a Christian,
To despise the colorful peacock dress,
To base his actions on law and morality,
To be himself, and finally to get
A eulogy at the grave and a wreath on the coffin.
(takes a few steps).
I almost lost my reason through her.
I'm a fool if I still understand rightly
What it was that so confused me.
Well, it's over! Had I gone one step further
With the joke, I would have become ridiculous.
I have failed. Oh well;… but it is a comfort
That I failed as a result of my false position.
It was not the same person who now fell.
It is essentially that: having to live as a prophet,
So utterly devoid of the salt of activity,
That now avenged itself with nauseating insipidity.
A bad business being a prophet!
In that profession you have to float in clouds;…
Prophetically considered, you're done for
As soon as you act soberly and awake.
Insofar I have played the role,
Precisely by thus worshipping that little goose.
But it does not fail to have its effect…
(bursts out laughing).
Tripping and dancing away my days,
Swimming against the stream while twirling and wriggling,
Courting with string music, playing and sighing,
And ending as a rooster… by letting myself be plucked!
Truly, my behavior was prophetically mad…
Yes, plucked!… Boys, how plucked I am!
Well; I fortunately still kept something in reserve;
I still have something in America, and something in my pocket;
So I haven't been reduced to beggary yet.
And this average is basically the best,
Now I am not dependent on coachmen or horses;
I have nothing to do with trunks and carts;
In short, as they say, I master the situation…
Which road should I choose? Many are open to me now;
And the choice distinguishes a fool from a wise man.
My business life is a finished chapter,
My love affair is a discarded coat.
I feel no desire at all for the crab's walk:
"Back and forth, it's equally long;
Out or in, it's the same path,"…
So it says, I think, in a witty work…
So something new; an elevating work,
A goal that is worth the money and trouble.
Describe my life, without concealing anything…?
A book, serving as a guide, if necessary as an example…?
Or wait…! I have all the time at my disposal…
What if I went to study the cravings of earlier times,
As a traveling scholar…?
Yes, truly; that is just the thing for me!
I read chronicles when I was still small,
And I later also practiced science…
I will follow humanity's ancient path!
I will float on the stream of history like a feather,
Relive it all, as in a dream,…
See the heroes' struggle for what is great and good,…
But only as a spectator, from a safe spot,…
See thinkers fall, martyrs perish,
See empires founded and empires decay,…
See world moments arise from small things…
In short, I will skim off the whole history…
I must see about getting a Becker,
And travel chronologically as far as I can.
It's true… I am not strong in history,
And I never quite understand how it fits together.
But oh! When the starting point is sometimes the craziest,
Often the most original outcome is obtained…
How uplifting it is to choose a goal,
And want everything to achieve it!
(silently moved).
Everything that binds to relatives and friends,…
Let your money and goods fly into the air,
Bid your love happiness good night,…
Everything to find the mystery of truth..
(wipes away a tear).
I feel so immoderately happy
Now I know the riddle of my destiny.
Now I just have to fight my way through thick and thin!
It is quite forgivable that I hold my head high
And feel what I am worth as a man, Peer Gynt,
Also called the emperor of life…
I want to possess the sum of the past;
Never again walk the paths of the living;…
The present is not worth a shoe sole;
The deeds of men are without marrow or pith:
Their spirit has no flight, their actions no strength;…
(shrugs his shoulders).
Summer day. High up in the North. A hut in the forest in the
mountains. Open door with a large wooden lock. A reindeer antler above
the door. A flock of goats standing by the wall of the hut.
A middle-aged woman, blond and pretty, sits spinning outside in the
sunshine.
(casts a glance at the road below and sings)
And summer and autumn with dying leaves…
But one day you will come… my love believes!
And I will wait… that I have promised.
(calls the goats, spins and sings again).
God bless you, when at his feet you stand!
Here I will wait from year to year…
And if you wait up here, then I will find you there!
In Egypt. Dawn. The Memnon Colossus in the sand. Peer Gynt comes
running and looks around for a moment.
So now I'm an Egyptian for a change;
But an Egyptian, relying on the Gyntian self;
Later I think to go to Assyria.
To start completely with creation,
Would only entail a waste of time;…
I'll leave the biblical history out of it,
I'll find its trace anyway;
And to get to the bottom of things, as they say,
Is beyond my plan and my ability.
(sits down on a stone).
Until Memnon has sung his morning song.
After breakfast I will climb the Pyramid;
If I have time, I'll later also go inside.
Then overland to the Red Sea;
Perhaps I'll find King Potiphar's grave there…
Then I'll be an Asian again. In Babylon I'll search
For the world-famous hanging gardens,
That is, the most important trace of culture.
And then with a leap to Troy's wall.
From Troy there is a direct connection
Over sea, to glorious, ancient Athens;…
There I want to closely examine on the spot
And ride through the pass that Leonidas defended;…
Then I'll familiarize myself with the best philosophers,
Find the house where Socrates died as a sacrifice…;
No, that's true too,… there's fighting going on now…!
Well, then Hellenism will have to wait.
(looks at his watch).
Before the sun rises. My time is short.
So ancient Troy;… I came from there…
(stands up and listens).
(Sunrise).
(sings)
Birds, singing.
Zeus, the All-Knowing,
Created them as fighters.
Wisdom owls,
Where do my birds sleep?
You must die or guess
The sung riddle!
Sound from the colossus! That was ancient music.
I heard the voice rising and falling…
I will note this. Something for the scholars.
(notes in his pocketbook):
"The colossus sang. I clearly heard the sound,
But did not quite understand the words of the song.
The whole was naturally an illusion.
Nothing else of importance observed today."
(goes on).
distance the towers and minarets of Cairo.
Peer Gynt enters; he examines the sphinx attentively, first through
his lorgnette, then through his cupped hand.
Something that reminds me of this model?
For I have seen it somewhere, in North or South.
Was it a person? And if so, who?
He, Memnon, that occurred to me afterwards,
Resembled the old Troll King,
As he sat there, stiff and rigid,
His seat resting on blunt columns...
But here, this ambiguous wonder creature,
This hybrid, so strange, of lion and woman...
Does this also come from a fairy tale in my head?
Or do I remember it from reality?
From a fairy tale? Wait, now I remember!
It's Böjgen, so true, whom I struck on the head...
That is to say, I dreamed... for I was delirious...
(approaches).
Not so dull, the eyes, somewhat more polished;
But otherwise in the main pretty much the same...
So, so, you Böjg; you look like a lion,
When one sees you from behind and meets you by day!
Can you still guess? I'll try that.
Now I'll see if you answer as before!
(shouts at the sphinx).
(behind the sphinx)
That observation is mine and new.
(notes in his pocketbook:)
(comes out from behind the sphinx)
(notes again:)
(with various nervous gestures)
What brings you here today?
My forehead is pounding! I fear it will burst!
Do you know the sphinx? Answer! Speak! Can you tell
What it is?
It is itself.
(springing up)
Like a lightning bolt there!... Indeed? Do you know for sure?
Itself?
(takes off his hat).
(with quiet admiration)
Peer Gynt! That means: the unknown,...
The coming one, whose coming was announced to me...
Every word is a source of deep wisdom!
What are you?
(modestly)
Myself. And otherwise, here is my passport.
(grips him by the wrist).
(dragging him along)
In Cairo. A large courtyard with high walls, surrounded by buildings. Barred windows; iron cages.
Three attendants in the courtyard. A fourth enters.
For last night...
(Begriffenfeldt leads Peer Gynt in, locks the door, and puts the key in his pocket).
(to himself)
Almost everything he says is beyond my understanding.
(looks around).
Seventy researchers and scholars,
Recently increased to a hundred and three...
(shouts at the attendants).
Quick into your cages, one, two, three!
Turn the world around, then we'll turn with it.
(forces them into a cage).
The rest you can understand... I'll say no more.
(locks the cage and throws the key into a well).
Mr. Peer, can you keep quiet? I must express myself...
(in increasing anxiety)
(pulls him into a corner and whispers)
Died yesterday precisely at eleven o'clock.
And doubly unpleasant in my position,
For this house was until this hour still regarded
As a lunatic asylum.
(pale and softly)
And that man is mad;... and no one knows it!
(tries to get away).
(follows him)
When I say it is dead, that is only apparent.
It went out of itself... jumped out of its skin,...
Exactly like the late Münchhausen's fox.
(holds him)
Not like a fox. A needle pricked through the eye;
It writhed violently...
This going-out-of-itself will result in
A complete upheaval on land and sea.
The persons who were formerly called insane
Became normal yesterday evening,
In accordance with reason in its new phase.
And if one then looks at the matter properly,
It follows that at that very hour
The so-called wise began to rave.
(opens a door and shouts).
Reason is dead. Long live Peer Gynt!
(The madmen gradually come out into the courtyard).
Greet the dawn of liberation!
Your emperor stands before you!
In an hour like this...
No, I am not fit for it; I am already completely bewildered!
Who is himself?
I am myself in every respect;
But here, as far as I understand, here one must
Be outside oneself, so to speak.
Here one is oneself without mercy,
Absolutely oneself, without anything else;
One sails as oneself, straight before the wind.
In the cask of one's self each one seals himself up;
In his own fermentation he dives to the bottom,...
And seals himself hermetically with the bung of his self;
And stops the wood in the well of his self.
No one has tears for others' sorrows,
No one thoughts for others' thinking.
Our self, that we are in spirit and sounds,
Our self, to the very edge of the springboard...
And thus, if an emperor is to be chosen here,
You are our true man for the throne.
Almost everything on earth is new at first.
"Oneself";... come, I'll show you an example,
I'll just pick the first that I see...
(to a somber figure).
My son, always in the garb of sorrow?
Untranslated, forgotten, die? (to Peer Gynt).
You are a stranger; will you listen?
(bowing)
Like a garland of flowers, far in the East,
Lies the Malabar coast.
Dutch and Portuguese
Have brought civilization there.
Moreover, there are still masses
Of the true Malabars.
Those who corrupted our language
Are now masters of the land there;
But in times long past,
The orangutan ruled there.
He was lord of the forest and master;
Free he could kill and roar.
Untamed product of nature
He grew and yawned as such.
Unhindered he could scream;
He was the ruler in his realm...
But then came the yoke of strangers
Confusing our primeval forest language.
A night of four hundred years
Sapped the orangutan's strength;
And one knows, such long nights
Hinder all development.
The primal sound of the forest fell silent
And one no longer heard grumbling;...
If we are to express thoughts
We must do so with words.
What a constraint for all classes!
Dutch and Portuguese,
Coloreds and Malabars,
Everything found it equally burdensome...
I have tried to fight for it,
For our primeval forest language, the true one,...
To revive the poor corpse,...
Supporting the people's right to scream,...
Screamed myself, and also demonstrated
Its use in folk songs...
But no one appreciates my efforts...
My sorrow you will understand.
Thank you for listening to me;...
Do you know advice, let me hear it!
(softly)
With the wolves that are in the forest.
(loudly).
That in Morocco's forests
There are still troops of orangutans,
Living without interpreter or songs;
Their sound sounded Malabar!
It would be beautiful and exemplary,
If you now, like other greats,
Went there, for your people's benefit...
I will do as you advise.
(with a solemn gesture).
The West has orangutans! (Exit).
He is full of himself, and of that one thing alone.
He is himself in everything he gives of himself,
Himself precisely by virtue of his being-of-himself.
Come here! Now I'll show you another,
Since yesterday no less properly sane.
(to a fellah who carries a mummy on his back).
(furiously to Peer Gynt)
(moves behind the doctor)
That I am not acquainted with the circumstances.
But I believe, if I may judge by the tone, that...
How things stand.
(turns to Peer Gynt).
King Apis was once his name.
Now he bears the name of mummy,
And is therefore completely dead.
He built the pyramids,
Sculpted the great sphinx,
And fought, as the doctor says,
With the Turks, left and right.
And therefore all Egypt
Praised him as a god here,
And worshipped him in all his temples
In the image of a bull...
But I am that King Apis,
That is as certain as I stand here;
And if you still do not understand that,
Then you will soon see.
King Apis was out hunting once,
And dismounted, the hero,
And sat down for a moment
Aside, on my ancestors' field.
But the field that the king fertilized,
That nourished me with its grain;
And if anyone demands more proof,
I will show him invisible horns.
And is it not then desperate for me
That no one acknowledges my power!
I am Apis by right of birth,
But am despised as a fellah.
If you can give me good advice,
Oh do so, without deceit;...
What must I do to become
Like Apis the Great, even now?
Sculpt a great sphinx,
And fight, as the doctor says,
With the Turks, left and right.
A fellah! Such a bald mouse!
I have my hands full keeping my hut free
Of the rat vermin.
Go, man,... go find something better,
What makes great, gives me peace back!
And moreover makes me completely equal
To Apis, the hero, on my back!
And then, in the earth's bosom,
Within the bounds of the coffin,
Also kept himself completely dead?
To the gallows then with my hide...
At first it makes some difference;
But that wears off in time.
(goes off and makes preparations to hang himself).
A man with method...
But he is really doing it! God have mercy on us!
I am getting dizzy;... I feel confusion in my head already!
(holds him)
(Alarm. The Minister Husein pushes forward through the crowd).
(to Peer Gynt)
(desperately)
(clutches his hair)
I am a pen.
(bows even deeper)
A crumpled imperial parchment.
I am taken for a sand-box and I am a pen.
I am a sheet of white paper and never yet written on.
Everyone wants to use me for sprinkling sand!
Be wise or be mad, that's only a misprint!
To be a pen and never enjoy the pleasure of a knife!
(makes a jump)
Always falling,... never feeling ground under one's hooves!
The world will perish if the knife is not put in!
Our dear Lord found so well made.
(seizes it)
What a delight to cut oneself.
(cuts his throat).
(steps aside)
(increasingly anxious)
Hold! Hold the pen! Paper on the table...! (falls down).
Now I am used up. Remember this: this is the postscript:
He lived and died as a held pen!
(staggering)
I am whatever you want... a Turk, a sinner,...
A troll...; but help!... there was something that broke...!
(shouts).
Help me... you refuge for all fools!
(faints).
Ha, look how he holds himself high in the dust!...
And is himself...! Let him be crowned!...
(places the crown on his head and shouts:)
(in the cage)
END OF THE FOURTH ACT
Fifth Act
On board a ship in the North Sea, off the coast of Norway. Sunset. Stormy weather.
Peer Gynt, a vigorous old man, with silver-grey hair and beard, stands aft on the deck. He is half dressed as a sailor, with a pea-jacket and high boots. His clothes are somewhat worn and shabby; he himself is weather-beaten and with a harder expression on his face. The captain of the ship is at the helm by the mate. The crew are further forward.
(leans with his arms on the bulwark and gazes towards the coast)
He decks himself, the old one, with the evening glow.
Slanting behind him stands the Jokel, his brother;
He still has his green ice-mantle on.
The Folgefann is especially fine,...
Lies like a maiden in shimmering sheen.
Don't be fools, old boys!
Stay where you are, you granite fellows!
(calls forward)
You can see the Galdhopig in fine weather.
(points)
And the leavings, they say, stick longest in the pot.
(spits and gazes at the coast)
Where the mountain fissure darkens, narrow as a groove,
And below, along the open fjord,...
There still live people, they say.
(looks at the captain)
There's room and distance from house to house.
If the night doesn't become too bad, at least.
Remind me of it when we settle accounts later...
I intend to with the crew... as they say...
"Make it good"...
I have dug gold and lost what I found;...
Fate and I are no longer friends;
You know what I gave you to keep.
That's the remainder;... the devil took the rest from me.
With the people over there.
No one expects the rich scoundrel...
Well,... then I am also free from fuss at my arrival.
If any of the men are in special need,
I'm not so particular about a few cents.
All have wives and children at home.
On their wages alone, it's poverty indeed;
But if they sometimes bring a little extra home,
The reunion becomes a never-to-be-forgotten feast.
Are they married?
The worst off is probably the cook;
At his home there is bitter hunger and poverty.
Who is happy when they come? What?
In a poor man's way.
What then?
Something good, once in a while...
With children around them? And a hubbub in the house
That no one understands what the others are saying,...
Is that their celebration, tell me...?
And therefore it would be generous, what you just now
Promised to do.
(strikes on the bulwark)
Do you take me for a fool? Do you think I'll shell out
To please other people's children?
I have sweated hard enough earning my money.
No one expects old Peer Gynt there.
Your bill, as soon as you drop anchor!
Passage from Panama as a cabin passenger,
And a drink for the crew. Nothing more;
If I give more, you may kill me, captain!
But excuse me; now the breeze is becoming a storm.
(He goes forward. It has become dark; lights are lit in the cabin. The sea grows rough. Fog and heavy clouds.)
Living in the memory of others as a joy;...
Followed in their thoughts on their way...
There is no one who ever thinks of me...
Light on the table? I'll prevent that!
I'll think of something...! I'll make them dead drunk;...
Not one of the fellows will land sober.
Drunk they'll come to wife and children!
They'll swear! Pound on the table,
Frighten those who wait, so they tremble with fear!
The wife will scream and flee the house;
The children too! I'll kill all joy!
(The ship lurches violently; he staggers and has difficulty keeping his balance.)
Well, that's what you call pitching properly.
The sea works as if it were paid for it;...
It's still the same along the coast here in the North;...
The sea, always wild and spiteful... (listens).
What is that cry?
(forward)
(midships, commanding)
(goes forward)
(to some of the crew)
Help then! What does it matter if you get a wet suit...
Cook, dare you try? Come, I'll pay you...
That they are people with wives and children at home?
Who are waiting...
Then there are three new-made widows now.
(The storm grows worse. Peer Gynt goes to the afterdeck.)
No Christianity, as it's taught and written,...
They do little good, and pray even less,
And pay no heed to the mighty powers...
In a night like this, God is sometimes dangerous.
The fellows ought to be careful, think what is true,
That it's dangerous to play with elephants;...
And then they pick a quarrel with him, really!
I am not to blame; the offering bowl has,
I can prove it, received my money.
But what good does that do me?... They say sometimes:
On a good conscience it's lovely to rest;
Oh yes, that holds good on dry land,
But means absolutely nothing on board,
Where a decent man is among scoundrels.
At sea you can never be yourself properly;
You must go with the others from deck to the hold;
If the hour of vengeance strikes for boatswain or cook,
Then I am dragged along with the lot;...
Your own merits are not counted at all,
You are worth no more than a sausage at slaughter time...
The fault is that I have been too pious.
And ingratitude is now my reward for everything.
If I were younger, I might perhaps turn back yet,
And try for a time to play the master.
Well, I still have time! In the village they'll say:
Peer came back as a great gentleman!
I want the farm back, come what may;...
I'll rebuild the house, it shall glitter like a castle.
But no one shall gain admittance or come inside!
They'll stand at the door and have to back down;...
Begging and pleading,... they may do that freely;
But no one shall get a single shilling from me;...
If fate should make me howl under its whip,
Then I'll find someone I can beat in my turn...
A STRANGE PASSENGER (stands in the dark beside Peer Gynt and greets him amiably).
Good evening!
For the first time this evening...
It's enough to make your mouth water!
Just think what wrecks the night will make;...
And how many corpses will drift ashore!
Strangled,... or drowned?
And most of them would rather have bitten off their tongues.
If, for example, we struck the ground...
And sank...
But suppose I float and you sink to the bottom...
But when one has one foot in the grave,
One becomes soft, and gladly gives charitable gifts...
(feels in his pocket)
As to give me your highly esteemed corpse?
It's for science...
I will open your body and show it to the world.
Chiefly I want to seek the seat of dreams...
And moreover critically examine the whole...
It's bad enough, with storm and rain,
A wild sea and all sorts of signs
Of something that can shorten us by a head,
And you do everything as if to provoke it!
But oh, time often brings changes...
(bows amiably)
Perhaps you'll be in a better humour then.
(goes into the cabin)
Such freethinkers...
(to the boatswain who comes past him)
That other passenger? What sort of fellow is he?
(to the cabin boy who comes out of the cabin)
(goes on)
(calls)
My luggage on deck!
I promise you for sure, I'll give something to the cook...
(calls forward)
(The ship strikes. Commotion and confusion.)
(The ship is wrecked on the coast among rocks and breakers. In the mist the boat with two men is dimly seen. A heavy sea capsizes it; a cry is heard; then for a while all is quiet. Then the upturned boat comes drifting ashore.)
Peer Gynt rises near the boat.
Help me, O God,... as your word says!
(clings to the keel)
(rises on the other side)
My poor children! Guide me to land!
(holds on to the keel)
Let go! The keel won't carry two!
(They fight; the cook injures one hand; he clings with the other.)
Think of my wife and children at home!
For I leave no children behind.
No one will mourn for you...
(screams and lets go)
(seizes hold of him)
Quick, say your Lord's Prayer yet!
You'll get what you need.
It's noticeable... you were always a cook... (lets him slip).
(sinking)
You were and remained yourself to the end...
(works himself up on the keel)
(puts his hand on the boat)
I am glad I found you after all.
Well? Do you see that I can prophesy?
I'll float, even if I only hold the tip
Of my finger here, in this groove.
But apropos of the corpse...
What do you want?
(clutches his hair)
What are you?
(nods)
Who resembles me?
(softly)
On life's way through fear and darkness?
You are a bringer of light?
The deep earnestness of fear?
But I find your words exaggerated...
To win the victory granted in fear?
(looks at him)
You should have done that earlier.
It seems ridiculous to choose your time
When I am on the point of drowning.
Sitting comfortably by your fireside?
Do you think that can be encouraging?
As much as lofty speech.
A bishop may not permit himself.
Do not always walk on buskins.
I don't want to die! I want to reach land!
The fifth act one does not die.
(slips away)
He was a heavy moralist.
A churchyard in a high mountain village. A funeral procession. The priest and the people. The last verse of a hymn is being sung. Peer Gynt passes by on the road.
(at the gate)
Thank God and praise that I am not he.
(goes inside the gate)
(speaks at the grave)
And the body lies like an empty shell,...
Now, dear friends, let a word be said
Of the life of this dead man, here on earth.
He was not rich, nor very clever.
His voice was weak, his bearing unmanly.
He spoke his opinion feebly and waveringly,
And was scarcely master in his own house;
He came into the church quietly, shyly,
As if asking whether, like others, he might sit.
From the Gudbrandsdal, you know, he came.
When he came here, he was still almost a youth;
And to the last, you surely still remember,
He always kept his right hand in his coat pocket.
The right hand hidden... that was the mark...
That made one remember this man's image,
And besides that subdued, that shy
Withdrawal, when he entered.
Though he preferred to go his own way quietly
And remained a stranger among us,
Yet you know how, though he hid it,
That hand had only four fingers left.
I well remember that morning, long ago,
When there was a conscription at Lunde.
It was in time of war. In everyone's mouth was
The country's need and what was to be expected.
I was there too. Broad at the table sat
The captain with officials and sergeants;
And one lad after another was measured,
Examined, and enrolled as a soldier.
The room was full, and outside the windows
Echoed the loud laughter of the young folk.
A name was called out. A new one came,
Who looked pale, deadly white, like glacier snow.
They beckoned him; he approached the table,
His right hand wrapped in a cloth;...
He panted, swallowed, gasped for words,
But could not speak, though they commanded him.
At last, however; and then, cheeks glowing,
Half stammering, stuttering and then quickly,
He tells of a sickle, which, flying out,
Had neatly cut off one finger.
In the room it became deadly still.
Everyone looked at each other; pursed their lips;
They stoned the lad with silent glances.
He felt it well, but dared not look up.
The captain rose, old, grey, and stiff;...
He spat, pointed to the door, saying: go!
And he went. People stepped aside on both sides,
So that it was as if he had to run the gauntlet;...
Once outside, he took to his heels in haste;...
Upwards now,... up, between rocks and bushes,
Up, among loose stones, rolling, falling...
High up in the mountains lay his home...
Half a year later it was when he came here
With mother, infant, and his future wife.
He rented a piece of land, lying fallow over there,
There, where the boundary of the great heath is.
He married then as soon as it was possible;
He built a hut; he broke the hard ground;
He got on, as many a piece of land
Bore witness, rolling like a yellow sea;...
He came to church with his hand hidden,...
But unseen at home, those nine fingers
Worked fully as hard as ten...
One spring flood once swept everything away.
They saved their lives. Then poor and naked,
He set to work at clearing again.
And before autumn, smoke rose once more
From a more sheltered spot, from a new hut.
Sheltered from the water, yes... not from avalanches;
Two years later it lay buried under snow,
But the man remained brave and undaunted;
He cleared and hacked, he dug out stones,...
And before the first snow fell the following year
His house stood for the third time built.
Three sons he had, three fine, strong boys;
They had to go to school and the school was far.
To get from his house to the highway,
One had to pass through a rocky cleft, very narrow and steep.
What did he do then? The eldest had to manage
As best he could,... where the path became too steep,
He tied a rope around the child to support him;...
The other two he carried on arm and back.
Thus he struggled year after year; they grew up.
Did he receive thanks, which were due to him?
Three rich gentlemen in the New World
Forgot the Norwegian mountain land and their father.
He had no broad vision. Of what was outside
His immediate surroundings, he could see nothing.
What sounds to us like bells,
Sonorous in tone, penetrating deep into the heart, had no meaning for him.
People, fatherland, the sublime, the lofty,
Stood as if shrouded in mist before the eye of his mind.
But he was humble, humble this man;
And from that conscription day he bore the judgment,
As surely as the blush of shame on his cheek,
And his four fingers, hidden in his pocket.
A transgressor of the law of the land? Oh, yes!
But there is something that shines above laws,
Just as over there those peaks' white tent
Has clouds and above them again peaks.
A bad citizen he was. And for church and state
An unfruitful tree. But here, on the high field,
In his family circle, where he saw his work,
There he was great, because he was himself!
His inborn tone remained true to itself;
Muffled in tone, that was his whole life.
And therefore: peace be with you, silent fighter,
Who fought and fell in a small peasant's strife!
We will not search hearts and reins;
That is no work for us, but for the Creator;...
But firmly and freely I dare express the hope:
That man will not stand maimed before his God!
(The people from the procession disperse and go. Peer Gynt remains alone.)
Nothing at all that gives one a creepy feeling...
Yes, the theme; to be oneself unflinchingly,...
Around which the whole sermon revolved,...
Is in itself alone edifying.
(looks into the open grave)
When I was in the forest felling trees?
Who knows? If I were not standing here with my stick
At the edge of the grave of that kindred spirit,
I could think it was I who slept
And heard, as if dreamed true, my own praise...
Indeed, it is a Christian and beautiful custom,
Kindly to let the glance still wander
In memory over the dead man's life.
Yes, I would like to hear my own fate
Narrated to the people by that worthy man.
Well, it may yet be a while,
Before the gravedigger comes and invites me to my own;...
And, as the Scripture says: better is best,
And likewise: every evil in its time,
And further: borrow no money for your funeral...
The church remains after all your true comfort.
I did not use to attach so much importance to it;...
Now I feel how much good it does,
To hear experts assure you:
What a man sows, that shall he also reap...
He must be himself; for himself and his own
He must care in great things and small.
If things don't go well for him, he still has the honour
That he knew how to order his life according to the precept...
Now homeward! Even if the road is difficult and steep,
Let fate still mock me long;...
Old Peer Gynt goes his own way,
And remains what he is always: poor but honest.
(exit)
Up at the farmstead, a public auction is being held. Many people are gathered. Drinking and noise. Peer Gynt sits down on a heap of rubble near the mill.
In or out, it's the same journey;...
Time destroys, the stream is dried up.
Go round about, said the Boyg;... so I do.
(notices Peer Gynt)
Is it a christening, or a wedding being celebrated?
The bride lies in a worm-chest.
And all are old; I knew them as a boy.
(with a casting ladle)
In this Peer Gynt cast his silver buttons!
That he was brother-in-law to Aslak and to death.
You still feel related to Peer Gynt after all.
(goes away with him)
(softly)
(calls after the man in mourning)
Then mother will come from her grave to fetch you, Aslak!
(stands up)
The more you dig around, the better it smells.
(with a bearskin)
(pays and gets the skin)
(They go off together, arm in arm. The auction continues.)
So this is what remains of Peer Gynt's life:
a bearskin, a spinning wheel, and a story.
But the story will live on. And perhaps it will be told
in such a way that he becomes a legend.
At any rate, it is better than being forgotten.
That was what drove the goblins away, at Christmas!
(with a reindeer skull)
Carried Peer Gynt over the Gendin Ridge.
(with a hammer, shouts to the man in mourning)
Didn't you use it to crack that nut?
(with empty hands)
With it Peer Gynt flew through the air with Ingrid!
Now I'm going to auction off some old junk!
It lies in the Rondane; it's strongly walled.
To offer less would be a shame.
(The people gather around him).
Who bids?
Far from here, lads! That steed can gallop
As fast, as fast, as Peer Gynt could lie.
It was bought at a loss! I sell at a loss.
That's for sale for a crooked fishhook.
I throw it out for grabs; you may fight over it!
It'll fit the first one who puts it on his head.
Here's more! A wind-egg, look!
A gray hair from a fool! A prophet's beard!
He gets everything who shows me on the mountain
The signpost with the inscription: here lies the way!
(who has come up)
It may happen that your path leads straight to arrest.
(with his hat in his hand)
He pretended he had done it himself.
But excuse me... I have other duties... (Exit).
There it went badly for him, as one might have expected...
And years ago they hanged him.
The late Peer Gynt remained true to himself to the end. (Bows).
Greetings... and many thanks for today!
(goes a few steps but stops again).
Shall I, in turn, tell you a story now?
(Comes closer; a strange expression glides over his face).
All the town was full of fairground folk.
One could play the violin with his toes;
One danced a Spanish dance on his knees.
A third, I heard, made verses
While his skull was being drilled.
Then the devil also came with his arts...
Wanted to see, like so many, what he could earn.
His art was this: in a deceptive manner
To be able to grunt like a real pig.
His personality attracted, though unknown.
The house was packed, expectation was high.
He appeared in a cloak with swirling folds;
One must "drape oneself," as the Germans say.
But under that cloak, which no one knew...
He had managed to hide a pig.
And now the performance could begin.
The devil pinched and the pig gave voice.
The whole was presented as a fantasy
About the life of the pig, captive and free;
Finally a scream, as under the butcher's knife...
After which the artist bowed and withdrew...
The case was much discussed by experts;
The key was criticized and praised;
The voice sounded too thin, said one;
Another found the death-scream too studied...
But all agreed on this: as grunting
The performance was definitely exaggerated...
See, that's how it went for the devil, because he was stupid,
And didn't take his audience into account.
(He bows and goes. A hesitant silence falls over the crowd).
land, a hut with a reindeer antler above the gable.
Peer Gynt crawls through the undergrowth and looks for wild onions.
Examine everything, and then choose the best.
That's what I did too;... from Emperor Caesar
Down to the depths to Nebuchadnezzar,
So I had to go through the whole Bible.
The old man ended up back with his mother.
It says also: from dust you are born...
What matters in life is to fill your belly.
Fill it with onions? That doesn't seem much to me;...
I'd rather be cunning and set snares.
Here's water again, I won't suffer thirst;
Among wild animals I still count as number one.
If I die one day,... which may well happen...
Then I'll crawl under a fallen tree;
And cover myself,... like a bear... with dry leaves,
And carve in the bark in very large letters:
Here rests Peer Gynt, that honest fellow,
Emperor of all other animals,...
Emperor?
(laughs to himself).
You are no emperor; you are an onion.
Now I'll peel you, my dear Peer!
It's no use whether you cry or beg.
(takes an onion and peels it layer by layer).
The castaway on the keel of the jolly boat.
The passenger skin here, thin and sparse;...
Its taste is somewhat like Peer Gynt.
Underneath sits the gold-digger self;
The juice is gone... if it ever was there.
This thick skin here, with the hard tip,
Is the fur-hunter on Hudson Bay.
That underneath looks like a crown... thank you very much!
We'll throw that away without further ado.
Here the antiquarian, short but sturdy.
And here the prophet, fresh and juicy.
He stinks, as it is written, of lies,
That an honest man gets tears in his eyes.
This little skin, which rolls up soft and limp,
Is the gentleman who lived idle and soft.
What comes now seems sickly. It has black streaks;...
Black can mean priests and negroes.
(pulls off several at once).
Won't the core soon come to light?
(pulls the whole onion apart).
They're all skins,... smaller and smaller...
Nature is witty!
(throws the remains away).
If you start thinking, you often come out badly.
Well, at least I have nothing to fear from danger,
For I lie firmly here on hands and feet.
(scratches his neck).
Life, as they say, has a fox behind the ears;
But if you grab for it, Mr. Fox makes off,
And you catch something else,... or nothing at all.
(he approaches the hut, notices it, and is startled).
(rubs his eyes).
I once knew that building...
A reindeer skull adorns the gable...?
A mermaid, half fish, half woman...!
Lies! No mermaid!... Nails,... planks,...
A lock that locks out goblin thoughts...!
(singing in the hut)
My dear boy, so far, far away...
You will come, won't you?
If you have a heavy load,
Just take your time;...
You know I am waiting...
That I have said.
(stands up, silent and deathly pale)
One who kept,... and one who lost...
Oh, seriousness!... And it can never be done over!
Oh, fear!... Here lay my empire!
(runs into the forest).
Peer Gynt hurries through the forest.
Plenty of building materials here!
Stench and rotting leaves inside,
To be mortar for a grave.
Sham, dream, stillborn knowledge,
With that it will be paved;
Vaulted, by work, as a dome,
For which lies provide the forms.
Flight from earnest, aversion to penance,
As a coat of arms above it...
Adorns it with the judgment words:
Petrus Gyntus Caesar fecit!
(listens).
Crying that sounds like singing...
Balls of yarn rolling at my feet...!
(kicks at them).
(on the ground)
You should have thought us;...
Little dancing feet
You should have given us!
(goes around them)
It became an ugly, crippled wretch!
As trembling voices,...
Now we must roll
As gray yarn balls.
(stumbles)
Are you trying to trip up your father?
(flees).
We are a slogan
You should have proclaimed.
See how the ash
Tore us miserably.
A worm gnawed through us
Every fiber;
We never got to form
A wreath around fruit.
Just lie still and serve as fertilizer yet.
You should have sung us!...
A thousand times
You stifled us.
Deep in your soul once
We lay and waited;...
You never called us forth.
Now poison in your throat!
Did I have time for song and rhyme?
(forces his way through the thicket).
(dripping from the branches)
You never shed.
Ice crust that tears open,
We could have melted.
Now the ice is frozen fast
Around the heart;
The wound is sealed;
And we are powerless.
And yet I got a tail there!
You should have accomplished;
Doubt, the murderer,
Bent and split us.
At the end of days
We will all come
To accuse you,...
Then you shall get your reward!
On my debit side the negative?
(rushes away).
(far away)
Oh, you've overturned me!
Snow fell all day;...
Evil has he done me...
The whole ride went wrong.
Peer, where is the castle now?
The devil has lured you
With the stable broomstick!
Must I, on top of all my sins, also
Bear the devil's from now on,
Then I will soon collapse.
(hurries off).
Song from bawling clerks' mouths;
A mourning band tied around my hat.
I have many dead; I bury them now!
THE BUTTON-MOLDER (with a box of tools and a large casting ladle, comes from a side path).
Good evening, old one!
Excuse me,... are you by any chance called Peer?
Peer Gynt is exactly the one I'm to fetch today.
(points at his ladle)
I'm a button-molder. And you must go into this.
Your grave is dug, your coffin is ready.
Your body is destined for the worms;...
But I have orders, without delay,
By command of my Master, to collect your soul.
To choose the day for the ceremony in silence,
And tell the hero of the feast nothing in advance.
So you are...?
So, so, Peer, so you end up there!
But this, good friend, is not fair play!
I know I deserve better treatment;...
I'm not as bad as you might think perhaps,...
I have also done some good here on earth;...
At worst I can be called a simpleton,...
But certainly not such a particularly great sinner.
You are not a sinner in the higher sense either;
And therefore you escape hell,
And come into my ladle, like many others.
Brown stout or ale, it's all beer.
Away, Satan!
As to think I walk on a horse's foot?
Be off! And mind what you do!
We are both in a hurry, and to save time
I'll explain the matter to you thoroughly.
You are, as you yourself just said,
Not what is called a truly great sinner;
At best mediocre...
To talk sense...
But to call you virtuous would be going too far...
A sinner of the genuinely distinguished sort
Is not found along the road these days;
It takes more than messing around in the mud;
True sin demands seriousness, true sin demands strength.
You have to go at it like the old Vandals.
Is not for you who dabble in the mud...
At home, while I was abroad?
And designed to prevent loss of value.
You know the craft,... you know that often
A casting can fail, and then it's worthless;
Sometimes they become buttons without an eye.
What would you do?
As long as there was money in chest and purse.
But the Master, you see, is very thrifty;
And therefore he's a wealthy man.
He doesn't throw away the least as completely useless,
If it can still be used as raw material.
You were meant to be a shiny button
On the world's vest; but the eye didn't hold.
Therefore I must now melt you with the scrap,
To, as they say, be absorbed into the mass.
Into something new?
We have done that so often already.
In Kongsberg they do the same with coins
Whose stamp has worn off through long circulation.
Dear friend, listen, let me go now!...
A button without an eye, a worn-out coin,...
What is that to someone in your Master's position?
As metal a person always has value.
I will resist. Anything rather than that!
You are not light enough for heaven...
But I won't give up a bit of myself.
Let me be punished in the old way, according to law!
Put me for a while with him-of-the-hoof,...
A hundred years, if it can't be less;
Look, that is something a person can bear;
For the pain is only moral
And thus not so tremendous.
It's a transition, as it is said,
And as the fox put it:... one waits; then finally
The hour of deliverance strikes; one withdraws,
And meanwhile hopes for better days...
But that other thing,... to have to go
Into a strange, indifferent body, like vapor,...
That ladle method, that dissolving of Gynt,...
That revolts my whole soul!
Make such a fuss over a trifle.
You were never your self before;...
What does it matter then if you die completely now?
Peer Gynt has been something else then? Oh, come!
No, Button-Molder, you talk blindly.
If you could search my heart and reins,
You would find Peer there, and still Peer.
And definitely nothing else and not much more.
Look, here it says clearly: Peer Gynt you must fetch.
He has missed his life's purpose.
Into the ladle with him, as a failed product.
Does it really say Peer? Is it not Rasmus or Jon?
Come now willingly and waste no more time!
If tomorrow it turned out that another was meant.
You are responsible, my good man!
So be careful, for what may follow...
That I was myself my whole life;
And that is the question we are arguing about.
Good friend, let me bail myself out;
I'll be back soon. One only comes into the world once,
And one clings to oneself, as a creature.
So are we agreed, eh?
But remember, I'll find you at the next crossroads!
(Peer Gynt runs off quickly).
(at full speed)
If only you knew where a crossroads comes...
Maybe it's still far, maybe close by,
The ground burns under me like glowing metal.
A witness! A witness! Where can I find one?
It's almost unthinkable here in the forest.
The world is a botch job. The system is bad,
When someone has to prove his obvious right.
(A bent old man, with a stick in his hand and a sack on his back, trudges ahead of him.)
(stops)
Now I go begging with a hunger like a wolf.
Now; we'll draw a line through private affairs,...
And, above all, no family quarrel.
I was a madman...
But the Prince was wise not to take the bride;
Thus he spared himself sorrow and shame!
For since then she has lived so wildly...
And now,... think of it, she lives together with Trond.
He was the one from whom I once stole three girls.
And has handsome children all over the country...
I have something quite different on my mind now...
I've gotten into a difficult fix, namely...
And I need a testimony or a certificate;...
With that my father-in-law can help me best...
I would naturally have something to offer for it...
Perhaps then I might also get a testimonial in return?
And have to be thrifty, and save on all sides.
But now hear what it's about. You remember still
When I came for your daughter, at Rondane, that day...
Enough. You wanted by all means then
To take away my sight by a cut in the lens,
And turn Peer Gynt into a troll.
What did I do then? I resisted,...
Swore that I would follow my own will;
I renounced love and honor and power,
Solely to be myself.
This fact, you see, you must swear to before the court...
You know very well that you put on our trousers,
And drank the mead...?
But at the decisive moment I resisted.
And it is precisely by that that one knows the man.
The final words are what matter.
You wrote behind your ear my life's motto.
And says: Troll, to yourself be enough!
(recoils)
Since then always acted according to it.
(weeps)
You lived like a troll but kept it hidden.
The word, which I taught you, enabled you
To get ahead as a well-to-do man!...
And now you come here and want nothing more to know
Of me and the word, to which you owe it all.
That is all nonsense; it must be a trick!
(pulls out a bundle of old newspapers)
Wait; then you shall see here, red on black,
How the "Bloksberg Post" praises and glorifies you;
And the same did the "Hekla Mountain Courier",
Ever since the winter when you left...
Would you like to read them, Peer? Do so then;
Here is something signed with: "Horse's Hoof",
And here: "From the Trollish-National".
The writer serves up the truth here
That little depends on tail and horns,
As long as you are like them inside.
"Our enough," he says, "stamps the troll's seal
On the man",... and then he names you as an example.
Could have stayed in Rondane and sat at my ease?
Saved care and trouble and many a pair of shoes?
A troll... Peer Gynt!... That's nonsense! That's rubbish!
Farewell! Here's a tip for tobacco.
Or perhaps senile. Look for a hospital.
But my grandchildren, as I said,
Have an enormous influence in the country;
And they say that I only exist in books.
They say sometimes, from your family you must have it...
I poor wretch, feel what a true word that is.
It's hard to be considered lies and nonsense...
No savings bank, relief fund, or welfare;...
In Rondane such a thing wouldn't work either.
And if he, in one way or another...
I myself am, as they say, as bare as a church mouse...
And that is your fault, you damned trolls!
That's what comes of bad company.
Farewell! I'll do my best to reach the city.
They are asking in the newspaper for national subjects...
If I can get away, I'll also go that way.
Then I'll write a farce, foolish and profound,
Which will be called: "Sic transit gloria mundi."
(Runs away. The Old Man calls after him).
That troll's word has passed judgment.
The boat is wrecked, you must float on planks.
Anything rather than into the heap of old rags!
(at the crossroads)
Before I see what the paper tells.
What is it, after all, to "be oneself"?
A man who just now ...
But for you that explanation is certainly not enough?
Let us say therefore: to appear everywhere
With my Master's intention as a signboard.
What the Master intended with him?
And then one goes ad undas so imperceptibly.
Makes the hoof-man get the best catch.
Listen, I renounce being myself; ...
It might be difficult to prove it.
I consider that part of the matter lost.
But recently, when I wandered here alone through the pine forest,
I felt my conscience gnawing seriously;
I said to myself: you are a sinner after all.
Not only in deeds, but also in words and will.
Abroad I have lived scandalously ...
And confess headlong, and bring you his certificate.
And you will be spared the ladle question.
But my order, Peer ...
It must date from an earlier time; ...
Then I lived a time, so sickly and weak,
And played prophet and believed in Fate.
So, may I try?
You surely don't have so much to do,
Here in the district the air is so healthy; ...
People live so much longer because of it.
Remember what the priest of Justedal wrote:
"It rarely happens that anyone dies here in the valley."
(trots off).
Said Esben, and picked up a magpie wing.
Who would have thought that his load of sin
Would set him free on his last evening?
Well, really the matter is just as ugly,
For it brings me from the ash into the fire after all; ...
But there is also a comforting word, old and tried, ...
Which says: as long as there is life, there is hope.
(A thin person, in a high-girt priest's robe and with a
fowler's net over his shoulder, walks quickly up the hill).
Peer, you are indeed the favorite of fortune!
Good evening, reverend sir! The path is steep ...
I hope he is on another road.
I have never sinned against the law;
I have never sat behind bolt and lock.
Yet, sometimes one loses firm footing
And stumbles ...
Of sins "en gros" I have always kept myself free.
I am not the man you take me for ...
You look at my finger? What do you see there?
(pointing)
(takes off his hat)
And so I have the honor ... Well, better is best;
If the hall door is open ... avoid the kitchen;
If you can get to the king ... leave the lackey standing!
Now, dear friend, how can I serve you?
But you must not ask me for power or money,
That I cannot give you, even if you were to hang me.
You cannot imagine what a slump there is in business.
There is such a tremendous decline in turnover;
No supply of souls; but now and then
A single one ...
Most end up in the ladle.
It was actually because of it that I came.
Then I would like to wish ...
Business, you say, is not particularly good;
Perhaps you will therefore not be too precise ...
Any payment is really not necessary at all;
Only friendly company, according to circumstance and place.
Permission to leave again, freely and openly, ...
The right, as it is called, to withdraw,
If opportunity arises to get something better.
You would not believe what a mass of requests
Of similar content people send me,
When they have to leave their earthly work.
Then I think the right of access is due to me ...
But it just occurred to me, I traded in Negroes ...
But they did it stupidly, and did not get in either.
There are those who send out worse figures
In sermons, in arts and literature ...
Yet they must stay outside ...
You must know, ... I have played prophet.
"Ins Blaue" end up in the ladle.
If you have nothing else to boast of,
Then I cannot, to my regret, give you shelter.
And a drowning man grasps at a straw,
And it is written: self-preservation is the first law,
And so, half through me, a cook lost his life.
At the same time lost something else, half through you.
What kind of talk is that about "half"? ...
With all respect ... Who, do you think, wants to
Stoke the precious fire, in times
Like these, for such characterless people?
Don't be angry; your sins are roguish tricks;
Excuse me for speaking my mind bluntly ...
No, dear friend, give that up;
And make yourself familiar with the ladle idea.
What do you gain if I give you bed and board?
Think, after all; you are a clever man.
Yes, you retain memory; that is true; ...
But the outlook over the land behind you
Becomes, for your heart and for your mind,
An outlook over a barren plain.
Nothing for you to cry over, laugh over,
Nothing to rejoice or despair about;
Only things to feel annoyed about.
Where the shoe pinches if one has not worn it oneself.
Only need for an odd boot.
But it was lucky I spoke of boots;
It reminds me I must go on ...
I am out for roast meat, I hope fat and thick;
And I am standing here wasting my time ...
Has fattened that fellow?
He was always himself, by night and by day;
And that, after all, is the main thing.
Mark, one can be oneself in two ways:
Be the right side or the wrong side.
You know, they have just invented in Paris
To make portraits with the help of the sun.
One can produce direct images,
Or negatives, which are equally valuable, ...
Only that there light and shadow are reversed, ...
And to laymen's eyes therefore look ugly;
But likeness lies in them nevertheless,
And it's only a matter of bringing it out.
If a soul in its earthly course
Has photographed itself negatively,
Is the plate therefore broken? ...
One simply sends it to me.
I then take it under further treatment,
And suitable means produce the change.
We steam, we bathe, we burn, we polish,
With sulfur and more such ingredients,
Until the image appears that the plate should have given, ...
That is, what is called the positive.
But if one, like you, has half erased oneself, ...
Then no sulfur or potash helps.
As a white partridge? May I ask what name
Is written under the negative portrait
That you now have to turn into a positive?
And is Gynt himself?
One knows many people.
Where did you last see him?
With the next ship, if I remember correctly.
If only I can catch him in time!
That Cape land ... I always had a dislike for it;
There are those wicked missionaries from Stavanger.
(southward, away).
Like a panting dog, with his tongue hanging out!
It was a delight to hoodwink him.
Such a fellow thinks a lot of himself and plays the boss!
It's well worth making a fuss about.
His trade won't keep his mouth open;
He'll soon fall off the bone with all his bustle ...
Hm, I am not sitting very securely in the saddle either;
I am expelled, so to speak, from the nobility of selfhood.
(a shooting star lights up; he nods to it).
Flare up, go out, and vanish in an instant...
(Shivers as if in fear, and walks deeper into the mists; after a while
of silence he cries out:)
Is there no one, no one in all the turmoil...
No one in the abyss, no one in heaven...!
(He reappears a bit lower down, throws his hat on the
ground and clutches his hair with his hands. Gradually he becomes
calmer.)
Fall back into the gray mists of Nothing.
O glorious earth, do not be angry
That I trod upon your grass without doing any good.
O glorious sun, who sent your beams
Into an empty hut where no person welcomed them.
There was no one inside to warm, to cherish,...
The owner, they said, was always away.
Glorious sun, and glorious earth,
Why did you let my mother be born into your light?
Spirit is scarce, nature is wasteful,
It is hard to pay for one's birth with one's life...
I want to go upward, to the very high peaks;
Once more I want to see the sun rise,
Gaze tiredly upon the promised land,
Find my resting place in a snowfall;
There one can write: "here lies no one buried."
And then,... after that...! Let it go as it may.
(Churchgoers sing on the forest path).
When fiery tongues
From God's kingdom descended on earth!
From the earth now rise
The songs of children's children,
In praise of the Holy Spirit!
(shrinks back in fright)
I fear I was dead long before I died!
(Wants to sneak away through the thicket, but comes to a crossroads).
At everything within my reach?
The owl scents prey. Do you hear him hooting?
(pointing)
My sin register...
(seizes him)
(They have come out of the wood and stand by the hut. Day breaks).
Go! Even if the ladle were as big as a chest...
There would be no room for me and my list of sins.
(he turns aside and disappears).
(closer to the house)
Out or in, it's the same path. (Stops).
No!... Like a wild, infinite lament
Is going home, entering, and returning again.
(takes a few steps further, but stops again).
(hears singing in the hut).
Straight through, however difficult it may be!
(He runs quickly toward the house; at the same moment
Solvejg comes out of the door, dressed for church and with her hymnbook
wrapped in a handkerchief; a staff in her hand. She stands upright,
tall and gentle.)
(he falls down on the threshold)
(seeks for him, groping).
(gropes again and finds him).
(behind the house)
(sits down beside him)
Blessed be that you came to me again!
Blessed be the Pentecost feast, when we meet again.
(laughs)
Can you say where Peer Gynt has been all this time?
Been... as God willed and thought him!
Can you say that? If not, then I must go...
And perish in the mist lands.
(smiles)
Where was I, as myself, as the whole, the true?
Where was I, marked with God's stamp in my being?
(recoils)
Of the boy in me, you yourself were the mother!
He is the one who forgives at a mother's prayers.
(a light passes over him; he cries out)
O, hide me, hide me in your soul!
(He clings to her and hides his face in her
lap. Long silence. The sun rises.)
(singing softly)
I will rock you, I will watch...
My boy sat on his mother's lap.
They played together all their life long.
My boy slept at his mother's breast
All his life long. God bless you, my joy!
My boy lay so close to my heart
All his life. Now he is so tired.
Sleep now, my dearest boy!
I will rock you, I will watch!
(behind the house)
And then we shall see if...; I say no more.
(sings louder in the light of day)
Sleep and dream now, my dearest!
[2] "den store Böjgen" = literally: "the great Bend". It means
all half-heartedness, everything that does not dare boldly, but goes
by roundabout ways and bends and seeks excuses. Here an invisible,
intangible, elusive symbolic specter that encloses and impedes Peer
Gynt on all sides. (Trans.)

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