Love's Comedy Part 3

MRS. HALM [smiling].

Oh, no, his laziness is something frightful.

MISS JAY.

What! here at Mrs. Halm's! that's most surprising-- Surely it's just the place for poetising-- [Pointing to the right.

That summer-house, for instance, in the wood Sequestered, name me any place that could Be more conducive to poetic mood--

FALK.

Let blindness veil the sunlight from mine eyes, I'll chant the splendour of the sunlit skies!

Just for a season let me beg or borrow A great, a crushing, a stupendous sorrow, And soon you'll hear my hymns of gladness rise!

But best, Miss Jay, to nerve my wings for flight, Find me a maid to be my life, my light-- For that incitement long to heaven I've pleaded; But hitherto, worse luck, it hasn't heeded.

MISS JAY.

What levity!

MRS. HALM.

Yes, most irreverent!

FALK.

Pray don't imagine it was my intent To live with her on bread and cheese and kisses.

No! just upon the threshold of our blisses, Kind Heaven must s.n.a.t.c.h away the gift it lent.

I need a little spiritual gymnastic; The dose in that form surely would be drastic.

SVANHILD.

[Has during the talk approached; she stands close to the table, and says in a determined but whimsical tone: I'll pray that such may be your destiny.

But, when it finds you--bear it like a man.

FALK [turning round in surprise].

Miss Svanhild!--well, I'll do the best I can.

But think you I may trust implicitly To finding your pet.i.tions efficacious?

Heaven as you know, to faith alone is gracious-- And though you've doubtless will enough for two To make me bid my peace of mind adieu, Have you the faith to carry matters through?

That is the question.

SVANHILD [half in jest].

Wait till sorrow comes, And all your being's springtide chills and numbs, Wait till it gnaws and rends you, soon and late, Then tell me if my faith is adequate.

[She goes across to the ladies.

MRS. HALM [aside to her].

Can you two never be at peace? you've made Poor Mr. Falk quite angry, I'm afraid.

[Continues reprovingly in a low voice. MISS JAY joins in the conversation. SVANHILD remains cold and silent.

FALK [after a pause of reflection goes over to the summer-house, then to himself].

With fullest confidence her glances lightened.

Shall I believe, as she does so securely, That Heaven intends--

GULDSTAD.

No, hang it; don't be frightened!

The powers above would be demented surely To give effect to orders such as these.

No, my good sir--the cure for your disease Is exercise for muscle, nerve, and sinew.

Don't lie there wasting all the grit that's in you In idle dreams; cut wood, if that were all; And then I'll say the devil's in't indeed If one brief fortnight does not find you freed From all your whimsies high-fantastical.

FALK.

Fetter'd by choice, like Burnell's a.s.s, I ponder-- The flesh on this side, and the spirit yonder.

Which were it wiser I should go for first?

GULDSTAD [filling the gla.s.ses].

First have some punch--that quenches ire and thirst.

MRS. HALM [looking at her watch].

Ha! Eight o'clock! my watch is either fast, or It's just the time we may expect the Pastor.

[Rises, and puts things in order on the verandah.

FALK.

What! have we parsons coming?

MISS JAY.

Don't you know?

MRS. HALM.

I told you, just a little while ago--

ANNA.

No, mother--Mr. Falk had not yet come.

MRS. HALM.

Why no, that's true; but pray don't look so glum.

Trust me, you'll be enchanted with his visit.

FALK.

A clerical enchanter; pray who is it?

MRS. HALM.

Why, Pastor Strawman, not unknown to fame.

FALK.

Indeed! Oh, yes, I think I've heard his name, And read that in the legislative game He comes to take a hand, with voice and vote.

STIVER.

He speaks superbly.

GULDSTAD.

When he's cleared his throat.

MISS JAY.

He's coming with his wife--

MRS. HALM.

And all their blessings--