Three Comedies

Aagot. We can talk about that another time! Let aunt look at you now!

Leonarda. You two won't disappoint one another. I can see that.

Aagot. It is wonderfully sweet of you, aunt!

Leonarda. Yes, love one another! Bring some beauty, some warmth, some colour into this cold house!

Aagot. Oh, aunt—!

Leonarda. Have you kissed her yet? (AAGOT moves a little away from HAGBART.) Go on! (They embrace.)

Aagot (running from him to LEONARDA). But, dearest aunt, are you crying?

Leonarda. Don't bother about me!—Have you told your uncle, the bishop, about it?

Hagbart. Not yet.

Leonarda. You haven't?—Well, you have the worst of it before you yet, I am afraid.

Hagbart. No; now that I have got as far as this, nothing shall stand in my way!

Aagot. Do you hear that, aunt?

[Curtain.]

ACT II

(SCENE.—A room in the BISHOP's house, some weeks later. A door at the back of the room leads to another large room. Another door in the right-hand wall; windows in the left. Well forward, by one of the windows, a large easy-chair. Farther back, a writing-desk and chair. On the right, near the door, a couch, and chairs ranged along the wall. Chairs also alongside the door at the back. The Bishop is sitting on the couch, talking to HAGBART.)

Bishop. My dear Hagbart, you keep on telling me that you have acted up to your convictions. Very well, do you want to forbid my acting up to mine?

Hagbart. You know that all I ask, uncle, is that you will see her and talk to her first.

Bishop. But if that is exactly what I don't wish to do? You have made things difficult for us, you know, by choosing a wife out of your own class—although at the same time we have grown fonder of her every day, and are ready to do anything for her. But farther than that we cannot go. Do you want to read my letter?

Hagbart. No.

Bishop. I think you should. It is quite a polite letter.

Hagbart. I know you can put things politely enough. But it is the fact, uncle—the fact of your doing it!

Bishop. Yes—I cannot alter that.

Hagbart. Could you not at all events postpone sending the letter?

Bishop. It is sent.

Hagbart. Sent?

Bishop. This morning. Yes. So there is nothing more to be done.

Hagbart. Uncle, you are cruel!

Bishop. How can you say that, Hagbart? I have acquiesced in your giving up your clerical career—and Heaven alone knows what a grief that is to me. (Gets up.) But I will not acquiesce in your bringing into my house a woman who does not even bear her husband's name. Do we as much as know who her husband was? She was both married and divorced abroad. And we don't know anything more about her life since then; it is scarcely likely it has been blameless. Since she came here she has never once been to church. She has led a most eccentric life, and lately has been allowing a man of very evil reputation to visit her.

Hagbart. General Rosen?

Bishop. Yes, General Rosen. He is next door to a drunkard. And he is a dissolute fellow in other ways, too.

Hagbart. He goes everywhere, all the same. He even comes here.

Bishop. Well, you see, he distinguished himself on military service; he has many sociable qualities, and he is well connected. It is the way of the world.

Hagbart. But Mrs. Falk is not to be received?

Bishop. She is a woman.

Hagbart. How long will this sort of thing be endured?

Bishop. Come, come—are you getting those ideas into your head too? You seem to have imbibed a lot of new doctrines lately!

Hagbart. You should have seen her and talked to her once at least, before making up your mind.

Bishop. I will tell you something in confidence, Hagbart. Justice Röst, who lives out there in the country, has often seen General Rosen coming away from her house at most unseemly hours. I will have nothing to do with women of that sort.

Hagbart. What about men of that sort?

Bishop. Well, as I said, that is quite another matter.

Hagbart. Quite so.—Mrs. Falk takes compassion on the General; she interests herself in him. That is all.

Bishop. Did she know him previously, then?

Hagbart. Very likely.

Bishop. Then she has her own private reasons for acting as she does.

Hagbart. Shall I tell you what it is? She has a kinder heart than any of us, and can make a sacrifice more willingly.

Bishop. So you know that?

Hagbart. Yes. Hers is a finer nature than any of ours; it is more completely developed, intellectually and morally.

Bishop. I am listening to you with the profoundest amazement!

Hagbart. Oh, don't misunderstand me! She has her faults.

Bishop. Really, you admit that!—I want to beg something of you earnestly, Hagbart. Go away for a little while.