Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 5

time ago, before the play began--(_in
a voice scarcely audible_)--in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things
somehow do happen before the play begins--
Rosmer. But, REBECCA, I know all this. KROLL--(_looks hard at
her_). Perhaps I had better go?
_Reb._ No--I will be short--this was it. I wanted to take my share in the
life of the New Era, and march onward with ROSMER. There was one
dismal, insurmountable barrier--(_to ROSMER, who nods
gravely_)--BEATA! I understood where your deliverance lay--and I
acted. I drove BEATA into the mill-race ... There!
Rosmer (_after a short silence_). H'm! Well, KROLL--(_takes up his
hat_)--if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be
orthodox once more--after this!
Kroll (_severely and impressively, to_ REB.). A nice sort of young
woman you are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at REB._
_Reb._ (_speaks to herself, under her breath_). Now I have done it. I
wonder why. (_Pulls bell-rope._) Madam HELSETH, I have just had a
glimpse of two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk.
[_Enter Madam H., with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._

ACT IV.
_Late evening. REBECCA WEST stands by a lighted lamp, with a
shade over it, packing sandwiches, &c., in a reticule, with a faint smile.
The antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter ROSMER._
Rosmer (_seeing the sandwiches, &c._). Sandwiches? Then you are
going I Why, on earth,--I _can't_ understand!
_Reb._ Dear, you never can. Rosmershölm is too much for me. But
how did you get on with KROLL?
Rosmer. We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of
ennobling men was several sizes too large for me--so I am going to let
it alone--
_Reb._ (_with her faint smile_). There I almost think, dear, that you are
wise.
Rosmer (_as if annoyed_). What, so you don't believe in me either,
REBECCA--you never _did! [Sits listlessly on chair._
_Reb._ Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself--but I've another
confession to make.
Rosmer. What, _another_? I really can't stand any more confessions
just now!
_Reb._ (_sitting close to him_). It is only a little one. I bullied BEATA
into the mill-race--because of a wild uncontrollable-- (_ROSMER
moves uneasily._) Sit still, dear--uncontrollable fancy--for you!
Rosmer (_goes and sits on sofa_). Oh, my goodness, REBECCA--you
_mustn't_, you know!
[_He jumps up and down as if embarrassed._
_Reb._ Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone
with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without

reserve,--little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the
ROSMER view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an
extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The ROSMER view of life
is ennobling, very--but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you.
Rosmer (_turning it off_). Isn't that enough for one evening P
_Reb._ (_almost voiceless_). No, dear. I have a Past--behind me!
Rosmer. Behind you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already.
(_Starts, as if in fear._) A joke! (_Sadly._) Ah, no--no, I must not give
way to that! Never mind the Past, REBECCA; I once thought that I had
made the grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be
happy. I see now it was too daring, too original--an immature dream.
What bothers me is that I can't--somehow I _can't_--believe entirely in
you--I am not even sure that I have ennobled you so very much--_isn't_
it terrible?
_Reb._ (_wringing her hands_). Oh, this killing doubt! (_Looks darkly
at him._) Is there anything I can do to convince you?
Rosmer (_as if impelled to speak against his will_). Yes, one
thing--only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I
must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in
my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I
cannot do now, unless--well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too,
like BEATA!
_Reb._ (_takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her
head_). Anything to oblige you.
Rosmer (_springs up_). What? You really will! You are sure you don't
mind? Then, REBECCA, I will go further. I will even go--yes--as far as
you go yourself!
_Reb._ (_bows her head towards his breast_). You will see me off?
Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite.

[_Smiles almost imperceptibly._
Rosmer (_cautiously_). I said as far as you go. I don't commit myself
further than that. Shall we go?
_Reb._ First tell me this. Are you going with me, or am I going with
_you_?
Rosmer. A subtle psychological point--but we have not time to think it
out here. We will discuss it as we go along. Come!
[_ROSMER takes his hat and stick, REBECCA her reticule, with
sandwiches. They go