Plays: Comrades; Facing Death; Pariah; Easter Part 16

AXEL. As you did?

CARL. As I did. Immediately I took my position as head of the family, to which place I found myself called both because of my superior mind and my natural abilities.

AXEL. And how did your wife like that?

CARL. Do you know, I forgot to ask her! But to judge by appearances, I should say that she found things as they should be. They only need real men--and human beings can be made even out of women.

AXEL. But at least the power should be divided?

CARL. Power cannot be divided! Either obey or command. Either you or I.

I preferred myself to her, and she had to adjust herself to it.

AXEL. Yes, but didn't she have money?

CARL. Not at all. She didn't bring more than a silver soup-spoon to our nest. But she demanded an accounting of it; and she got it. She was a woman of principle, you see!--She is so good, so good, but so am I good to her. I think it's really great sport to be married, what? And besides, she's such a splendid cook!

[The Misses Hall come in from right.]

AXEL. Let me introduce you to the Misses Hall, Lieutenant Starck.

CARL. I am very happy to make your [Carl gives them a look of recognition] acquaintance.

[The young ladies seem surprised and embarra.s.sed; they nod and go out to the orchard somewhat excited.]

CARL. How did they get in here?

AXEL. What do you mean? They are friends of my wife's and this is the first time that they have been here. Do you know them?

CARL. Yes, somewhat!

AXEL. What do you mean to imply?

CARL. H'm, I met them in St. Petersburg late one night!

AXEL. Late one night?

CARL. Yes.

AXEL. Isn't there some mistake?

CARL. No-o! There is no mistake. They were very well known ladies in St.

Petersburg.

AXEL. And Bertha allows that kind in my house!

[Bertha comes rus.h.i.+ng in from orchard.]

BERTHA. What does this mean? Have you insulted the young ladies?

AXEL. No--but--

BERTHA. They came out of here crying and declared that they couldn't stay in the company of you gentlemen any longer! What has happened?

AXEL. Do you know these young ladies?

BERTHA. They are my friends! Isn't that enough?

AXEL. Not quite enough.

BERTHA. Not quite? Well, but if--

[Dr. ostermark comes in from the orchard.]

DR. oSTERMARK. What does this mean? What have you done to the little girls who ran away? I offered to help them with their wraps, but they refused to be helped and had tears in their eyes.

CARL [To Bertha]. I must ask you, are they your friends?

BERTHA. Yes, they are! But if my protection is not sufficient, then perhaps Doctor ostermark will take them under his wing, considering that he has a certain claim to them.

CARL. But a mistake has been made here. You mean that I, who have had certain relations with these girls, should appear as their cavalier?

BERTHA. What sort of relations?

CARL. Chance, such as one has with such women!

BERTHA. Such women? That's a lie!

CARL. I'm not in the habit of lying.

DR. oSTERMARK. But I don't understand what _I_ have got to do with these young ladies.

BERTHA. _You_ would prefer to have nothing to do with your deserted children.

DR. oSTERMARK. My children! But I don't understand.

BERTHA. They are your two daughters--daughters of your divorced wife.

DR. oSTERMARK. Since you consider that you have the right to be personal and make my affairs the subject of public discussion, I will answer you publicly. You seem to have taken the trouble to find out that I am not a widower. Good! My marriage, which was childless, was dissolved twenty years ago. Since then I have entered into another relation, and we have a child that is just five years old. These grown girls, therefore, cannot be my children. Now you know the whole matter.

BERTHA. But your wife--whom you threw out upon the world--

DR. oSTERMARK.--No, that wasn't the case either. She walked out, or staggered, if you prefer it, and then she received half my income until at last I found out that--enough said. If you could conceive what it cost me of work and self-denial to support two establishments, you would have spared me this unpleasant moment, but your kind wouldn't consider anything like that. You needn't know any more, as it really doesn't concern you.

BERTHA. But it would amuse me to know why your first wife left you.

DR. oSTERMARK. I don't think it would amuse you to know that she was ugly, narrow, paltry, and that I was too good for her! Think now, you tender-hearted, sensitive Bertha, think if they really had been my daughters, these friends of yours and Carl's; imagine how my old heart would have been gladdened to see, after eighteen years, these children that I had borne in my arms during the long night of illness. And imagine if she, my first love, my wife, with whom life the first time became life, had accepted your invitation and come here? What a fifth act in the melodrama you wished to offer us, what a n.o.ble revenge on one who is guiltless! Thanks, old friend. Thank you for your reward for the friends.h.i.+p I have shown you.

BERTHA. Reward! Yes, I know that I owe you--a fee. [Axel, Carl and the doctor make protestations of "Oh," "Now," "Really," et cetera.] I know that, I know it very well.