When We Dead Awaken 6

When We Dead Awaken 6

PROFESSOR RUBEK. Why poet? IRENE. Because you are nerveless and sluggish and full of forgiveness for all the sins of your life, in thought and in act. You have killed my soul--so you model yourself in remorse, and self-accusation, and penance--[Smiling.] --and with that you think your account is cleared. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Defiantly.] I am an artist, Irene. And I take no shame to myself for the frailties that perhaps cling to me. For I was born to be an artist, you see. And, do what I may, I shall never be anything else. IRENE. [Looks at him with a lurking evil smile, and says gently and softly.] You are a poet, Arnold. [Softly strokes his hair.] You dear, great, middle-aged child,--is it possible that you cannot see that! PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Annoyed.] Why do you keep on calling me a poet? IRENE. [With malign eyes.] Because there is something apologetic in the word, my friend. Something that suggests forgiveness of sins--and spreads a cloak over all frailty. [With a sudden change of tone.] But I was a human being--then! And I, too, had a life to live,--and a human destiny to fulfil. And all that, look you, I let slip--gave it all up in order to make myself your bondwoman.--Oh, it was self-murder--a deadly sin against myself! [Half whispering.] And that sin I can never expiate!     [She seats herself near him beside the brook, keeps close, though        unnoticed, watch upon him, and, as though in absence of mind,        plucks some flowers form the shrubs around them. IRENE. [With apparent self-control.] I should have borne children in the world--many children--real children--not such children as are hidden away in grave-vaults. That was my vocation. I ought never to have served you--poet. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Lost in recollection.] Yet those were beautiful days, Irene. Marvellously beautiful days--as I now look back upon them-- IRENE. [Looking at him with a soft expression.] Can you remember a little word that you said--when you had finished--finished with me and with our child? [Nods to him.] Can you remember that little word, Arnold? PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Looks inquiringly at her.] Did I say a little word then, which you still remember? IRENE. Yes, you did. Can you not recall it? PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Shaking his head.] No, I can't say that I do. Not at the present moment, at any rate. IRENE. You took both my hands and pressed them warmly. And I stood there in breathless expectation. And then you said: "So now, Irene, I thank you from my heart. This," you said, "has been a priceless episode for me." PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Looks doubtfully at her.] Did I say "episode"? It is not a word I am in the habit of using. IRENE. You said "episode." PROFESSOR RUBEK. [With assumed cheerfulness.] Well, well--after all, it was in reality an episode. IRENE. [Curtly.] At that word I left you. PROFESSOR RUBEK. You take everything so painfully to heart, Irene. IRENE. [Drawing her hand over her forehead.] Perhaps you are right. Let us shake off all the hard things that go to the heart. [Plucks off the leaves of a mountain rose and strews them on the brook.] Look there, Arnold. There are our birds swimming. PROFESSOR RUBEK. What birds are they? IRENE. Can you not see? Of course they are flamingoes. Are they not rose-red? PROFESSOR RUBEK. Flamingoes do not swim. They only wade. IRENE. Then they are not flamingoes. They are sea-gulls. PROFESSOR RUBEK. They may be sea-gulls with red bills, yes. [Plucks broad green leaves and throws them into the brook.] Now I send out my ships after them. IRENE. But there must be no harpoon-men on board. PROFESSOR RUBEK. No, there shall be no harpoon-men. [Smiles to her.] Can you remember the summer when we used to sit like this outside the little peasant hut on the Lake of Taunitz? IRENE. [Nods.] On Saturday evenings, yes,--when we had finished our week's work-- PROFESSOR RUBEK. --And taken the train out to the lake--to stay there over Sunday-- IRENE. [With an evil gleam of hatred in her eyes.] It was an episode, Arnold. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [As if not hearing.] Then, too, you used to set birds swimming in the brook. They were water-lilies which you-- IRENE. They were white swans. PROFESSOR RUBEK. I meant swans, yes. And I remember that I fastened a great furry leaf to one of the swans. It looked like a burdock-leaf-- IRENE. And then it turned into Lohengrin's boat--with the swan yoked to it. PROFESSOR RUBEK. How fond you were of that game, Irene. IRENE. We played it over and over again. PROFESSOR RUBEK. Every single Saturday, I believe,--all the summer through. IRENE. You said I was the swan that drew your boat. PROFESSOR RUBEK. Did I say so? Yes, I daresay I did. [Absorbed in the game.] Just see how the sea-gulls are swimming down the stream! IRENE. [Laughing.] And all your ships have run ashore. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Throwing more leaves into the brook.] I have ships enough in reserve. [Follows the leaves with his eyes, throws more into the brook, and says after a pause.] Irene,--I have bought the little peasant hut beside the Lake of Taunitz. IRENE. Have you bought it? You often said you would, if you could afford it. PROFESSOR RUBEK. The day came when I could afford it easily enough; and so I bought it. IRENE. [With a sidelong look at him.] Then do you live out there now--in our old house? PROFESSOR RUBEK. No, I have had it pulled down long ago. And I have built myself a great, handsome, comfortable villa on the site--with a park around it. It is there that we-- [Stops and corrects himself.] --there that I usually live during the summer. IRENE. [Mastering herself.] So you and--and the other one live out there now? PROFESSOR RUBEK. [With a touch of defiance.] Yes. When my wife and I are not travelling--as we are this year. IRENE. [Looking far before her.] Life was beautiful, beautiful by the Lake of Taunitz. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [As though looking back into himself.] And yet, Irene-- IRENE. [Completing his thought.] --yet we two let slip all that life and its beauty. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Softly, urgently.] Does repentance come too late, now? IRENE. [Does not answer, but sits silent for a moment; then she points over the upland.] Look there, Arnold,--now the sun is going down behind the peaks. See what a red glow the level rays cast over all the heathery knolls out yonder. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Looks where she is pointing.] It is long since I have seen a sunset in the mountains. IRENE. Or a sunrise? PROFESSOR RUBEK. A sunrise I don't think I have ever seen. IRENE. [Smiles as though lost in recollection.] I once saw a marvellously lovely sunrise. PROFESSOR RUBEK. Did you? Where was that? IRENE. High, high up on a dizzy mountain-top.--You beguiled me up there by promising that I should see all the glory of the world if only I--     [She stops suddenly. PROFESSOR RUBEK. If only you--? Well? IRENE. I did as you told me--went with you up to the heights. And there I fell upon my knees and worshipped you, and served you. [Is silent for a moment; then says softly.] Then I saw the sunrise. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Turning at him with a scornful smile.] With you--and the other woman? PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Urgently.] With me--as in our days of creation. You could open all that is locked up in me. Can you not find it in your heart, Irene? IRENE. [Shaking her head.] I have no longer the key to you, Arnold. PROFESSOR RUBEK. You have the key! You and you alone possess it! [Beseechingly.] Help me--that I may be able to live my life over again! IRENE. [Immovable as before.] Empty dreams! Idle--dead dreams. For the life you and I led there is no resurrection. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Curtly, breaking off.] Then let us go on playing. IRENE. Yes, playing, playing--only playing!     [They sit and strew leaves and petals over the brook, where they        float and sail away.     [Up the slope to the left at the back come ULFHEIM and MAIA in        hunting costume.  After them comes the SERVANT with the leash        of dogs, with which he goes out to the right. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Catching sight of them.] Ah! There is little Maia, going out with the bear-hunter. IRENE. Your lady, yes. PROFESSOR RUBEK. Or the other's. MAIA. [Looks around as she is crossing the upland, sees the two sitting by the brook, and calls out.] Good-night, Professor! Dream of me. Now I am going off on my adventures! PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Calls back to her.] What sort of an adventure is this to be? MAIA. [Approaching.] I am going to let life take the place of all the rest. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Mockingly.] Aha! So you too are going to do that, little Maia? MAIA. Yes. And I've made a verse about it, and this is how it goes:     [Sings triumphantly.]               I am free!  I am free!  I am free!               No more life in the prison for me!               I am free as a bird!  I am free!               For I believe I have awakened now--at last. PROFESSOR RUBEK. It almost seems so. MAIA. [Drawing a deep breath.] Oh--how divinely light one feels on waking! PROFESSOR RUBEK. Good-night, Frau Maia--and good luck to-- ULFHEIM. [Calls out, interposing.] Hush, hush!--for the devil's sake let's have none of your wizard wishes. Don't you see that we are going out to shoot-- PROFESSOR RUBEK. What will you bring me home from the hunting, Maia? MAIA. You shall have a bird of prey to model. I shall wing one for you. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Laughs mockingly and bitterly.] Yes, to wing things--without knowing what you are doing--that has long been quite in your way. MAIA. [Tossing her head.] Oh, just let me take care of myself for the future, and I wish you then--! [Nods and laughs roguishly.] Good-bye--and a good, peaceful summer night on the upland! PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Jestingly.] Thanks! And all the ill-luck in the world over you and your hunting! ULFHEIM. [Roaring with laughter.] There now, that is a wish worth having! MAIA. [Laughing.] Thanks, thanks, thanks, Professor!     [They have both crossed the visible portion of the upland, and go        out through the bushes to the right. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [After a short pause.] A summer night on the upland! Yes, that would have been life! IRENE. [Suddenly, with a wild expression in her eyes.] Will you spend a summer night on the upland--with me? PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Stretching his arms wide.] Yes, yes,--come! IRENE. My adored lord and master! PROFESSOR RUBEK. Oh, Irene! IRENE. [Hoarsely, smiling and groping in her breast.] It will be only an episode-- [Quickly, whispering.] Hush!--do not look round, Arnold! PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Also in a low voice.] What is it? IRENE. A face that is staring at me. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Turns involuntarily.] Where! [With a start.] Ah--!     [The SISTER OF MERCY's head is partly visible among the bushes        beside the descent to the left.  Her eyes are immovably fixed        on IRENE. IRENE. [Rises and says softly.] We must part then. No, you must remain sitting. Do you hear? You must not go with me. [Bends over him and whispers.] Till we meet again--to-night--on the upland. PROFESSOR RUBEK. And you will come, Irene? IRENE. Yes, surely I will come. Wait for me here. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Repeats dreamily.] Summer night on the upland. With you. With you. [His eyes meet hers.] Oh, Irene--that might have been our life.--And that we have forfeited--we two. IRENE. We see the irretrievable only when--     [Breaks off. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Looks inquiringly at her.] When--? IRENE. When we dead awaken. PROFESSOR RUBEK. [Shakes his head mournfully.] What do we really see then? IRENE. We see that we have never lived.     [She goes towards the slope and descends.     [The SISTER OF MERCY makes way for her and follows her.        PROFESSOR RUBEK remains sitting motionless beside the brook. MAIA. [Is heard singing triumphantly among the hills.]                I am free!  I am free!  I am free!                No more life in the prison for me!                I am free as a bird!  I am free! ACT THIRD. [A wild riven mountain-side, with sheer precipices at the back.    Snow-clad peaks rise to the right, and lose themselves in drifting    mists.  To the left, on a stone-scree, stands an old, half-ruined    hut.  It is early morning.  Dawn is breaking.  The sun has not    yet risen. [MAIA comes, flushed and irritated, down over the stone-scree on the    left. ULFHEIM follows, half angry, half laughing, holding her    fast by the sleeve. MAIA. [Trying to tear herself loose.] Let me go! Let me go, I say! ULFHEIM. Come, Come! are you going to bite now? You're as snappish as a wolf. MAIA. [Striking him over the hand.] Let me, I tell you? And be quiet! ULFHEIM. No, confound me if I will! MAIA. Then I will not go another step with you. Do you hear?--not a single step! ULFHEIM. Ho, ho! How can you get away from me, here, on the wild mountain-side? MAIA. I will jump over the precipice yonder, if need be-- ULFHEIM. And mangle and mash yourself up into dogs'-meat! A juicy morsel! [Lets go his hold.] As you please. Jump over the precipice if you want to. It's a dizzy drop. There's only one narrow footpath down it, and that's almost impassable. MAIA. [Dusts her skirt with her hand, and looks at him with angry eyes.] Well, you are a nice one to go hunting with! ULFHEIM. Say rather, sporting. MAIA. Oh! So you call this sport, do you? ULFHEIM. Yes, I venture to take that liberty. It is the sort of sport I like best of all. MAIA. [Tossing her head.] Well--I must say! [After a pause; looks searchingly at him.] Why did you let the dogs loose up there? ULFHEIM. [Blinking his eyes and smiling.] So that they too might do a little hunting on their own account, don't you see? MAIA. There's not a word of truth in that! It wasn't for the dogs' sake that you let them go. ULFHEIM. [Still smiling.] Well, why did I let them go then? Let us hear. MAIA. You let them go because you wanted to get rid of Lars. He was to run after them and bring them in again, you said. And in the meant-time--. Oh, it was a pretty way to behave! ULFHEIM. In the meantime? MAIA. [Curtly breaking off.] No matter! ULFHEIM. [In a confidential tone.] Lars won't find them. You may safely swear to that. He won't come with them before the time's up. MAIA. [Looking angrily at him.] No, I daresay not. ULFHEIM. [Catching at her arm.] For Lars--he knows my--my methods of sport, you see. MAIA. [Eludes him, and measures him with a glance.] Do you know what you look like, Mr. Ulfheim? ULFHEIM. I should think I'm probably most like myself. MAIA. Yes, there you're exactly right. For you're the living image of a faun. ULFHEIM. A faun? MAIA. Yes, precisely; a faun. ULFHEIM. A faun! Isn't that a sort of monster? Or a kind of a wood demon, as you might call it? MAIA. Yes, just the sort of creature you are. A thing with a goat's beard and goat-legs. Yes, and the faun has horns too! ULFHEIM. So, so!--has he horns too? MAIA. A pair of ugly horns, just like yours, yes. ULFHEIM. Can you see the poor little horns _I_ have? MAIA. Yes, I seem to see them quite plainly. ULFHEIM. [Taking the dogs' leash out of his pocket.] Then I had better see about tying you. MAIA. Have you gone quite mad? Would you tie me? ULFHEIM. If I am a demon, let me be a demon! So that's the way of it! You can see the horns, can you? MAIA. [Soothingly.] There, there, there! Now try to behave nicely, Mr. Ulfheim. [Breaking off.] But what has become of that hunting-castle of yours, that you boasted so much of? You said it lay somewhere hereabouts.