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FALK.
A home?
SVANHILD.
Where Joy would gasp in mortal strife.
[Firmly.
It was not given to me to be your wife.
That is the clear conviction of my heart!
In courtship's merry pastime I can lead, But not sustain your spirit in its need.
[Nearer and gathering fire.
Now we have revell'd out a feast of spring; No thought of slumber's sluggard couch come nigh!
Let Joy amid delirious song make wing And flock with choirs of cherubim on high.
And tho' the vessel of our fate capsize, One plank yet b.r.e.a.s.t.s the waters, strong to save;-- The fearless swimmer reaches Paradise!
Let Joy go down into his watery grave; Our Love shall yet triumph, by G.o.d's hand, Be borne from out the wreckage safe to land!
FALK.
O, I divine thee! But--to sever thus!
Now, when the portals of the world stand wide,-- When the blue spring is bending over us, On the same day that plighted thee my bride!
SVANHILD.
Just therefore must we part. Our joy's torch fire Will from this moment wane till it expire!
And when at last our worldly days are spent, And face to face with our great Judge we stand, And, as righteous G.o.d, he shall demand Of us the earthly treasure that he lent-- Then, Falk, we cry--past power of Grace to save-- "O Lord, we lost it going to the grave!"
FALK [with strong resolve].
Pluck off the ring!
SVANHILD [with fire].
Wilt thou?
FALK.
Now I divine!
Thus and no otherwise canst thou be mine!
As the grave opens into life's Dawn-fire, So Love with Life may not espoused be Till, loosed from longing and from wild desire, Pluck off the ring, Svanhild!
SVANHILD [in rapture].
My task is done!
Now I have filled thy soul with song and sun.
Forth! Now thou soarest on triumphant wings,-- Forth! Now thy Svanhild is the swan that sings!
[Takes off the ring and presses a kiss upon it.
To the abysmal ooze of ocean bed Descend, my dream!--I fling thee in its stead!
[Goes a few steps back, throws the ring into the fjord, and approaches FALK with a transfigured expression.
Now for this earthly life I have foregone thee,-- But for the life eternal I have won thee!
FALK [firmly].
And now to the day's duties, each, alone.
Our paths no more will mingle. Each must wage His warfare single-handed, without moan.
We caught the fevered frenzy of the age, Fain without fighting to secure the spoil, Win Sabbath ease, and shirk the six days' toil, Tho' we are called to strive and to forego.
SVANHILD.
But not in sickness.
FALK.
Tho' quenched were all the light of earth and sky,-- The thought of light is G.o.d, and cannot die.
SVANHILD [withdrawing towards the background].
Farewell! [Goes further.
FALK.
Farewell--gladly I cry again-- [Waves his hat.
Hurrah for love, G.o.d's glorious gift to men!
[The door opens. FALK withdraws to the right; the younger guests come out with merry laughter.
THE YOUNG GIRLS.
A lawn dance!
A YOUNG GIRL.
Dancing's life!
ANOTHER.
A garland spread With dewy blossoms fresh on every head!
SEVERAL.
Yes, to the dance, the dance!
ALL.
And ne'er to bed!
[STIVER comes out with STRAWMAN arm in arm. MRS.
STRAWMAN and the children follow.
STIVER.
Yes, you and I henceforward are fast friends.
STRAWMAN.
Allied in battle for our common ends.
STIVER.
When the twin forces of the State agree--
STRAWMAN.
They add to all men's--
STIVER [hastily].
Gains!
STRAWMAN.
And gaiety.