Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 5

he would be annoyed, I shall go to bed now. I don't
want any supper. [_He lights a candle, and goes out; presently his
footsteps are heard overhead, as he undresses. REBECCA pulls a
bell-rope._
_Reb._ (_to Madam HELSETH, who enters with dishes_). No, Mr.
ROSMER will not have supper to-night. (_In a lighter tone._) Perhaps
he is afraid of the nightmare. There are so many sorts of White Horses
in this world!
_Mad. H._ (_shaking_). Lord! lord! that Miss WEST--the things she
does say! [_REB. goes out through door, knitting antimacassar
thoughtfully, as Curtain falls._
ACT II.
ROSMER's _study. Doors and windows, bookshelves, a writing-table.
Door, with curtain, leading to ROSMER's bedroom. ROSMER
discovered in a smoking-jacket cutting a pamphlet with a paper-knife.
There is a knock at the door. ROSMER says, "Come in." REBECCA
enters in a morning wrapper and curl-papers. She sits on a chair close
to ROSMER, and looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves. Rector
KROLL is shown up._
Kroll (_lays his hat on the table and looks at REB. from head to foot_).
I am really afraid that I am in the way.
_Reb._ (_surprised_). Because I am in my morning wrapper and
curl-papers? You forget that I am _emancipated_, Rector KROLL.
[_She leaves them and listens behind curtain in ROSMER's bedroom._
Rosmer. Yes, Miss WEST and I have worked our way forward in

faithful comradeship.
Kroll (_shakes his head at him slowly_). So I perceive. Miss WEST is
naturally inclined to be forward. But, I say, really you know-- However,
I came to tell you that poor BEATA was not so mad as she looked,
though flowers did bewilder her so. (_Taking off his gloves
meaningly._) She jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea
that you ought to marry Miss WEST!
Rosmer (_jumps half up from his chair_). I? Marry--Miss WEST! my
good gracious, KROLL! I don't _understand_, it is most
incomprehensible. (Looks fixedly before him.) How can people--
(_looks at him for a moment, then rises._) Will you get out? (_Still
quiet and self-restrained._) But first tell me why you never mentioned
this before?
Kroll. Why? Because I thought you were both orthodox, which made
all the difference. Now I know that you side with LAURITS and
HILDA, and mean to make the democracy into noblemen, and
accordingly I intend to make it hot for you in my paper. Good morning!
[He slams the door with spite as REBECCA _enters from bed-room._
Rosmer (_as if surprised_). You--in my bedroom! You have been
listening, dear? But you are so emancipated. Ah, well! so our pure and
beautiful friendship has been misinterpreted, bespattered! Just because
you wear a morning wrapper, and have lived here alone for a year,
people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make unpleasant remarks!
But what really did drive BEATA mad? Why did she jump into the
mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we could to spare her! I made it
the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all our
interests--_didn't_ I, now?
_Reb._ You did--but why brood over it? What does it matter? Get on
with your great, beautiful task, dear, (_approaching him cautiously
from behind_), winning over minds and wills, and creating noblemen,
you know--joyful noblemen!
Rosmer (_walking about, restlessly, as if in thought_). Yes, I know. I

have never laughed in the whole course of my life--we ROSMERS
don't--and so I felt that spreading gladness and light, and making the
democracy joyful, was properly my mission. But _now_--I feel too
upset to go on, REBECCA, unless-- (_Shakes his head heavily._) Yes,
an idea has just occurred to me--(_looks at her, and then runs his hands
through his hair_)--oh, my goodness, no--I _can't_.
[_He leans his elbows on table._
_Reb._ Be a free man to the full, ROSMER--tell me your idea.
Rosmer (_gloomily_). I don't know what you'll say to it. It's this. Our
platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and happy.
Now that I'm bothered and badgered, I feel--_why_, I can't exactly
explain, but I do feel that I must oppose a new and living reality to the
gnawing memories of the past. I should, perhaps, explain that this is
equivalent to an Ibsenian proposal.
_Reb._ (_catches at the chairback with joy_). How? at _last_--a rise at
last! (_Recollects herself._) But what am I about? Am I not an
emancipated enigma? (_Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror._)
What are you saying? You mustn't. I can't think what you mean. Go
away, do!
Rosmer (_softly_). Be the new and living reality. It is the only way to
put BEATA out of the Saga. Shall we try it?
_Reb._ Never! Do not--do not ask me why--for I haven't a notion--but
never! (_Nods slowly to him