Rosmersholm Part 26

Rebecca. Life carries a perpetual rebirth with it. Let us hold fast to it, dear. We shall be finished with it quite soon enough.

Rosmer (getting up restlessly). Then give me my faith back again!--my faith in you, Rebecca--my faith in your love! Give me a proof of it! I must have some proof!

Rebecca. Proof? How can I give you a proof--!

Rosmer. You must! (Crosses the room.) I cannot bear this desolate, horrible loneliness--this-this--. (A knock is heard at the hall door.)

Rebecca (getting up from her chair). Did you hear that?

(The door opens, and ULRIK BRENDEL comes in. Except that he wears a white shirt, a black coat and, a good pair of high boots, he is dressed as in the first act. He looks troubled.)

Rosmer. Ah, it is you, Mr. Brendel!

Brendel. John, my boy, I have come to say good-bye to you!

Rosmer. Where are you going, so late as this?

Brendel. Downhill.

Rosmer. How--?

Brendel. I am on my way home, my beloved pupil. I am homesick for the great Nothingness.

Rosmer. Something has happened to you, Mr. Brendel! What is it?

Brendel. Ah, you notice the transformation, then? Well, it is evident enough. The last time I entered your doors I stood before you a man of substance, slapping a well-filled pocket.

Rosmer. Really? I don't quite understand--

Brendel. And now, as you see me to-night, I am a deposed monarch standing over the ashes of my burnt-out palace.

Rosmer. If there is any way I can help you

Brendel. You have preserved your childlike heart, John--can you let me have a loan?

Rosmer. Yes, most willingly!

Brendel. Can you spare me an ideal or two?

Rosmer. What do you say?

Brendel. One or two cast-off ideals? You will be doing a good deed. I am cleaned out, my dear boy, absolutely and entirely.

Rebecca. Did you not succeed in giving your lecture?

Brendel. No, fair lady. What do you think?--just as I was standing ready to pour out the contents of my horn in plenty, I made the painful discovery that I was bankrupt.

Rebecca. But what of all your unwritten works, then?

Brendel. For five and twenty years I have been like a miser sitting on his locked money-chest. And then to-day, when I opened it to take out my treasure--there was nothing there! The mills of time had ground it into dust. There was not a blessed thing left of the whole lot.

Rosmer. But are you certain of that?

Brendel. There is no room for doubt, my dear boy. The President has convinced me of that.

Rosmer. The President?

Brendel. Oh, well--His Excellency, then. Ganz nach Belieben.

Rosmer. But whom do you mean?

Brendel. Peter Mortensgaard, of course.

Rosmer. What!

Brendel (mysteriously). Hush, hush, hush! Peter Mortensgaard is Lord and Chieftain of the Future. I have never stood in a more august presence. Peter Mortensgaard has the power of omnipotence in him. He can do whatever he wants.

Rosmer. Oh, come--don't you believe that!

Brendel. It is true, my boy--because Peter Mortensgaard never wants to do more than he can. Peter Mortensgaard is capable of living his life without ideals. And that, believe me, is precisely the great secret of success in life. It sums up all the wisdom of the world. Basta!

Rosmer (in a low voice). Now I see that you are going away from here poorer than you came.

Brendel. Bien! Then take an example from your old tutor. Erase from your mind everything that he imprinted there. Do not build your castle upon the shifting sand. And look well ahead, and be sure of your ground, before you build upon the charming creature who is sweetening your life here.

Rebecca. Do you mean me?

Brendel. Yes, most attractive mermaid!

Rebecca. Why am I not fit to build upon?

Brendel (taking a step nearer to her). I understood that my former pupil had a cause which it was his life's work to lead to victory.

Rebecca. And if he has--?

Brendel. He is certain of victory--but, be it distinctly understood, on one unalterable condition.

Rebecca. What is that?

Brendel (taking her gently by the wrist). That the woman who loves him shall gladly go out into the kitchen and chop off her dainty, pink and white little finger--here, just at the middle joint. Furthermore, that the aforesaid loving woman shall--also gladly--clip off her incomparably moulded left ear. (Lets her go, and turns to ROSMER.) Good-bye, John the Victorious!

Rosmer. Must you go now--in this dark night?

Brendel. The dark night is best. Peace be with you! (He goes out.

Silence in the room for a short time.)

Rebecca (breathing heavily). How close and sultry it is in here! (Goes to the window, opens it and stands by it.)

Rosmer (sitting down on a chair by the stove). There is nothing else for it after all, Rebecca--I can see that. You must go away.