Axel. "The Newly-Married Couple"--quite a small book.
Mathilde. Oh, that one--I have just been reading it.
Axel (eagerly). And Laura too? Has Laura read it?
Mathilde. She thinks it is a poor story.
Axel. It isn"t that, but it is an extraordinary one. It quite startles me--it is like coming into one"s own room and seeing one"s self sitting there. It has caught hold of unformed thoughts that lie hidden deep in my soul.
Mathilde. Every good book does that.
Axel. Everything will happen to me just as it does in that book; the premises are all here, only I had not recognised them.
Mathilde. I have heard of very young doctors feeling the symptoms of all the diseases they read about.
Axel. Oh, but this is more than mere imagination. My temptations come bodily before me. My thoughts are the result of what happens, just as naturally as smoke is the result of fire--and these thoughts (lancing at MATHILDE) lead me far.
Mathilde. As far as I can see, the book only teaches consideration for a woman, especially if she is young.
Axel. That is true. But, look here--a young man, brought up among students, cannot possibly possess, ready-made, all this consideration that a woman"s nature requires. He doesn"t become a married man in one day, but by degrees. He cannot make a clean sweep of his habits and take up the silken bonds of duty, all in a moment. The inspiration of a first love gives him the capacity, but he has to learn how to use it. I never saw what I had neglected till I had frightened her away from me. But what is there that I have not done, since then, to win her? I have gone very gently to work and tried from every side to get at her--I have tempted her with gifts and with penitence--but you can see for yourself she shrinks from me more and more. My thoughts, wearied with longings and with the strain of inventing new devices, follow her, and my love for her only grows--but there are times when such thoughts are succeeded by a void so great that my whole life seems slipping away into it. It is then I need some one to cling to--. Oh, Mathilde, you have meant very much to me at times like that. (Goes up to her.)
Mathilde (getting up). Yes, all sorts of things happen in a year that one never thought of at the beginning of it.
Axel (sitting down). Good G.o.d, what a year! I haven"t the courage to face another like it. This book has frightened me.
Mathilde (aside). That"s a good thing, anyway.
Axel (getting up). Besides--the amount of work I have to do, to keep up everything here just as she was accustomed to have it, is getting to be too much for me, Mathilde. It won"t answer in the long run. If only I had the reward of thanks that the humblest working-man gets-if it were only a smile; but when I have been travelling about for a week at a time, exposed to all sorts of weather in these open boats in winter, do I get any welcome on my home-coming? When I sit up late, night after night, does she ever realise whom I am doing it for? Has she as much as noticed that I have done so--or that I have, at great expense, furnished this house like her parents"? No, she takes everything as a matter of course; and if any one were to say to her, "He has done all this for your sake," she would merely answer, "He need not have done so, I had it all in my own home."
Mathilde. Yes, you have come to a turning-point now.
Axel. What do you mean?
Mathilde. Nothing particular--here she comes!
Axel. Has anything happened? She is in such a hurry!
[LAURA comes in with an open letter in her hand.]
Laura (in a low voice, to MATHILDE). Mother and father are so lonely at home that they are going abroad, to Italy; but they are coming here, Mathilde, before they leave the country.
Mathilde. Coming here? When?
Laura. Directly. I hadn"t noticed--the letter is written from the nearest posting station; they want to take us by surprise--they will be here in a few minutes. Good heavens, what are we to do?
Mathilde (quickly). Tell Axel that!
Laura. I tell him?
Mathilde. Yes, you must.
Laura (in a frightened voice). I?
Mathilde (to AXEL). Laura has something she wants to tell you.
Laura. Mathilde!
Axel. This is something new.
Laura. Oh, do tell him, Mathilde. (MATHILDE says nothing, but goes to the back of the room.)
Axel (coming up to her). What is it?
Laura (timidly). My parents are coming.
Axel. Here?
Laura. Yes.
Axel. When? To-day?
Laura. Yes. Almost directly.
Axel. And no one has told me! (Takes up his hat to go.)
Laura (frightened). Axel!
Axel. It is certainly not for the pleasure of finding me here that they are coming.
Laura. But you mustn"t go!
Mathilde. No, you mustn"t do that.
Axel. Are they not going to put up here?
Laura. Yes, I thought--if you are willing--in your room.
Axel. So that is what it is to be--I am to go away and they are to take my place.
Mathilde. Take my room, and I will move into Laura"s. I will easily arrange that. (Goes out.)
Axel. Why all this beating about the bush? It is quite natural that you should want to see them, and equally natural that I should remove myself when they come; only you should have broken it to me--a little more considerately. Because I suppose they are coming now to take you with them--and, even if it means nothing to you to put an end to everything like this, at all events you ought to know what it means to me!
Laura. I did not know till this moment that they were coming.
Axel. But it must be your letters that have brought them here--your complaints--
Laura. I have made no complaints.