Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 5

... 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. Rosmersh?lm 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 out hand-in-hand through the door, which they leave open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is left empty. Then Madam HELSETH enters through another door._
_Madam H._ The cab, Miss--not here! (_Looks out._) Out together--at this time of night--upon my--not on the garden-seat? (_Looks out of window._) My goodness! what is that white thing on the bridge--the Horse at last! (_Shrieks aloud._) And those two sinful creatures running home!
_Enter ROSMER and REBECCA, _out of breath._
Rosmer (_scarcely able to get the words out_). It's no use, REBECCA--we must put it off till another evening. We can't be expected to jump off a footbridge which already has a White Horse on it. And, if