Loves Comedy | Page 5

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 snatch 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 petitions
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 ass, I ponder-- The flesh on
this side, and the spirit yonder. Which were it wiser I should go for
first?
GULDSTAD [filling the glasses]. 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--

FALK. To give them three or four days' treat, poor dears-- Soon he'll be
buried over head and ears In Swedish muddles and official messings-- I
see!
MRS. HALM [to FALK]. Now there's a man for you, in truth!
GULDSTAD. They say he was a rogue, though, in his youth.
MISS JAY [offended]. There, Mr. Guldstad, I must break a lance! I've
heard as long as I can recollect, Most worthy people speak with great
respect Of Pastor Strawman and his life's romance.
GULDSTAD [laughing]. Romance?
MISS JAY. Romance! I call a match romantic At which mere worldly
wisdom looks askance.
FALK. You make my curiosity gigantic.
MISS JAY [continuing]. But certain people always grow splenetic--
Why, goodness knows--at everything pathetic, And scoff it down. We
all know how, of late, An unfledged, upstart undergraduate Presumed,
with brazen insolence, to declare That "William Russell"(1)was a poor
affair!
FALK. But what has this