STRAWMAN.
Thank you.
MRS. STRAWMAN.
It is A party?
MRS. HALM.
No, dear madam, not at all.
MRS. STRAWMAN.
If we disturb you--
MRS. HALM.
_Au contraire_, your visit Could in no wise more opportunely fall.
My Anna"s just engaged.
STRAWMAN [shaking ANNA"s hand with unction].
Ah then, I must Bear witness;--Lo! in wedded Love"s presented A treasure such as neither moth nor rust Corrupt--if it be duly supplemented.
MRS. HALM.
But how delightful that your little maids Should follow you to town.
STRAWMAN.
Four tender blades We have besides.
MRS. HALM.
Ah, really?
STRAWMAN.
Three of whom Are still too infantine to take to heart A loving father"s absence, when I come To town for sessions.
MISS JAY [to MRS. HALM, bidding farewell].
Now I must depart.
MRS. HALM.
O, it is still so early!
MISS JAY.
I must fly To town and spread the news. The Storms, I know, Go late to rest, they will be up; and oh!
How glad the aunts will be! Now, dear, put by Your shyness; for to-morrow a spring-tide Of callers will flow in from every side!
MRS. HALM.
Well, then, good-night [To the others.
Now friends, what would you say To drinking tea?
[To MRS. STRAWMAN.
Pray, madam, lead the way.
[MRS. HALM, STRAWMAN, his wife and children, with GULDSTAD, LIND, and ANNA go into the house.
MISS JAY [taking STIVER"s arm].
Now let"s be tender! Look how softly floats Queen Luna on her throne o"er lawn and lea!-- Well, but you are not looking!
STIVER [crossly].
Yes, I see; I"m thinking of the promissory notes.
[They go out to the left. FALK, who has been continuously watching STRAWMAN and his wife, remains behind alone in the garden. It is now dark; the house is lighted up.
FALK.
All is as if burnt out;--all desolate, dead--!
So thro" the world they wander, two and two; Charred wreckage, like the blackened stems that strew The forest when the withering fire is fled.
Far as the eye can travel, all is drought.
And nowhere peeps one spray of verdure out!
[SVANHILD comes out on to the verandah with a flowering rose-tree which she sets down.
Yes one--yes one--!
SVANHILD.
Falk, in the dark?
FALK.
And fearless!
Darkness to me is fair, and light is cheerless.
But are not you afraid in yonder walls Where the lamp"s light on sallow corpses falls--
SVANHILD.
Shame!
FALK [looking after STRAWMAN who appears at the window].
He was once so brilliant and strong; Warred with the world to win his mistress; pa.s.sed For Custom"s doughtiest iconoclast; And pored forth love in paeans of glad song--!
Look at him now! In solemn robes and wraps, A two-legged drama on his own collapse!
And she, the limp-skirt slattern, with the shoes Heel-trodden, that squeak and clatter in her traces, This is the winged maid who was his Muse And escort to the kingdom of the graces!
Of all that fire this puff of smoke"s the end!
_Sic transit gloria amoris_, friend.
SVANHILD.
Yes, it is wretched, wretched past compare.
I know of no one"s lot that I would share.
FALK [eagerly].
Then let us two rise up and bid defiance To this same order Art, not Nature, bred!
SVANHILD [shaking her head].
Then were the cause for which we made alliance Ruined, as sure as this is earth we tread.
FALK.
No, triumph waits upon two souls in unity.
To Custom"s parish-church no more we"ll wend, Seatholders in the Philistine community.
See, Personality"s one aim and end Is to be independent, free and true.