John Gabriel Borkman Part 40

BORKMAN.

[More and more fired up.] Oh, but all these--they are only like the outworks around the kingdom, I tell you!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

The kingdom, you say? What kingdom?

BORKMAN.

My kingdom, of course! The kingdom I was on the point of conquering when I--when I died.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Shaken, in a low voice.] Oh, John, John!

BORKMAN.

And now there it lies--defenceless, masterless--exposed to all the robbers and plunderers. Ella, do you see the mountain chains there--far away? They soar, they tower aloft, one behind the other! That is my vast, my infinite, inexhaustible kingdom!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Oh, but there comes an icy blast from that kingdom, John!

BORKMAN.

That blast is the breath of life to me. That blast comes to me like a greeting from subject spirits. I seem to touch them, the prisoned millions; I can see the veins of metal stretch out their winding, branching, luring arms to me. I saw them before my eyes like living shapes, that night when I stood in the strong-room with the candle in my hand. You begged to be liberated, and I tried to free you. But my strength failed me; and the treasure sank back into the deep again. [With outstretched hands.] But I will whisper it to you here in the stillness of the night: I love you, as you lie there spellbound in the deeps and the darkness! I love you, unborn treasures, yearning for the light! I love you, with all your shining train of power and glory! I love you, love you, love you!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[In suppressed but rising agitation.] Yes, your love is still down there, John. It has always been rooted there. But here, in the light of day, here there was a living, warm, human heart that throbbed and glowed for you. And this heart you crushed. Oh worse than that! Ten times worse! You sold it for--for----

BORKMAN.

[Trembles; a cold shudder seems to go through him.] For the kingdom--and the power--and the glory--you mean?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Yes, that is what I mean. I have said it once before to-night: you have murdered the love-life in the woman who loved you. And whom you loved in return, so far as you could love any one. [With uplifted arm.] And therefore I prophesy to you, John Gabriel Borkman--you will never touch the price you demanded for the murder. You will never enter in triumph into your cold, dark kingdom!

BORKMAN.

[Staggers to the bench and seats himself heavily.] I almost fear your prophecy will come true, Ella.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Going up to him.] You must not fear it, John. That is the best thing that can happen to you.

BORKMAN.

[With a shriek; clutching at his breast.] Ah----! [Feebly.]

Now it let me go again.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Shaking him.] What was it, John?

BORKMAN.

[Sinking down against the back of the seat.] It was a hand of ice that clutched at my heart.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

John! Did you feel the ice-hand again!

BORKMAN.

[Murmurs.] No. No ice-hand. It was a metal hand.

[He sinks right down upon the bench.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Tears off her cloak and throws it over him.] Lie still where you are! I will go and bring help for you.

[She goes a step or two towards the right; then she stops, returns, and carefully feels his pulse and touches his face.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Softly and firmly.] No. It is best so, John Borkman. Best for you.

[She spreads the cloak closer around him, and sinks down in the snow in front of the bench. A short silence.

[MRS. BORKMAN, wrapped in a mantle, comes through the wood on the right. THE MAID goes before her carrying a lantern.

THE MAID.

[Throwing the light upon the snow.] Yes, yes, ma'am, here are their tracks.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Peering around.] Yes, here they are! They are sitting there on the bench. [Calls.] Ella!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Rising.] Are you looking for us?

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Sternly.] Yes, you see I have to.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Pointing.] Look, there he lies, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN.

Sleeping?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

A long, deep sleep, I think.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[With an outburst.] Ella! [Controls herself and asks in a low voice.] Did he do it--of his own accord?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

No.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Relieved.] Not by his own hand then?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

No. It was an ice-cold metal hand that gripped him by the heart.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[To THE MAID.] Go for help. Get the men to come up from the farm.