Three Comedies

(SCENE.—A room in RIIS' house. An open door at the back leads into a park and gives a glimpse of the sea beyond. Windows on each side of the door. Doors also in the right and left walls. Beyond the door on the right is a piano; opposite to the piano a cupboard. In the foreground, to the right and left, two couches with small tables in front of them. Easy-chairs and smaller hairs scattered about. MRS. RIIS is sitting on the couch to the left, and DR. NORDAN in a chair in the centre of the room. He is wearing a straw hat pushed on to the back of his head, and has a large handkerchief spread over his knees. He is sitting with his arms folded, leaning upon his stick.)

Mrs. Riis. A penny for your thoughts!

Nordan. What was it you were asking me about?

Mrs. Riis. About that matter of Mrs. North, of course.

Nordan. That matter of Mrs. North? Well, I was talking to Christensen about it just now. He has advanced the money and is going to try and get the bank to suspend proceedings. I have told you that already. What else do you want to know?

Mrs. Riis. I want to know how much gossip there is about it, my dear friend.

Nordan. Oh, men don't gossip about each other's affairs.—By the way, isn't our friend in there (nodding towards the door on the right) going to be told about it? This seem, a good opportunity.

Mrs. Riis. Let us wait.

Nordan. Because Christensen will have to be repaid, you know. I told him he would be.

Mrs. Riis. Naturally. What else would you suppose?

Nordan (getting up). Well, I am going away for my holidays, so Christensen must look after it now.—Was it a very grand party yesterday?

Mrs. Riis. There was not much display.

Nordan. No, the Christensens' parties are never very luxurious. But I suppose there were a lot of people?

Mrs. Riis. I have never seen so many at a private entertainment.

Nordan. Is Svava up?

Mrs. Riis. She is out bathing.

Nordan. Already? Did you come home early, then?

Mrs. Riis. At about twelve, I think. Svava wanted to come home. My husband was late, I think.

Nordan. The card tables. She looked radiant, I suppose, eh?

Mrs. Riis. Why didn't you come?

Nordan. I never go to betrothal parties, and I never go to Weddings—never! I can't bear the sight of the poor victims in their veils and wreaths.

Mrs. Riis. But, my dear doctor, you surely think—as we all do—that this will be a happy marriage?

Nordan. He is a fine lad. But, all the same—I have been taken in so often.—Oh, well!

Mrs. Riis. She was so happy, and is just as happy to-day.

Nordan. It is a pity I shall not see her. Good-bye, Mrs. Riis.

Mrs. Riis. Good-bye, doctor. Then you are off to-day?

Nordan. Yes, I need a change of air.

Mrs. Riis. Quite so. Well, I hope you will enjoy yourself—and, many thanks for what you have done!

Nordan. It is I ought to thank you, my dear lady! I aim vexed not to be able to say good-bye to Svava. (Goes out. MRS. RIIS takes up a magazine from the table on the left and settles herself comfortably on a couch from which she can see into the park. During what follows she reads whenever opportunity allows. RIIS comes in through the door to the right, in his shirt sleeves and struggling with his collar.)

Riis. Good morning! Was that Nordan that went out just now?

Mrs. Riis. Yes. (RIIS crosses the room, then turns back and disappears through the door on the right. He comes back again immediately and goes through the same proceeding, all the tine busy with his collar.) Can I help you at all?

Riis. No—thanks all the same! These new-fangled shirts are troublesome things. I bought some in Paris.

Mrs. Riis. Yes, I believe you have bought a whole dozen.

Riis. A dozen and a half. (Goes into his room, comes out again in apparently the same difficulties, and walks about as before.) As a matter of fact I am wondering about something.

Mrs. Riis. It must be something complicated.

Riis. It is—it is. No doubt of it!—This collar is the very—Ah, at last! (Goes into his room and comes out again, this time with his necktie in his hand.) I have been wondering—wondering—what our dear girl's character is made up of?

Mrs. Riis. What it is made up of?

Riis. Yes—what characteristics she gets from you and what from me, and so forth. In what respects, that is to say, she takes after your family, and in what respect after mine, and so forth. Svava is a remarkable girl.

Mrs. Riis. She is that.

Riis. She is neither altogether you nor altogether me nor is she exactly a compound of us both.

Mrs. Riis. Svava is something more than that.

Riis. A considerable deal more than that, too. (Disappears again; then comes out with his coat on, brushing himself.) What did you say?

Mrs. Riis. I did not speak.—I rather think it is my mother that Svava is most like.

Riis. I should think so! Svava, with her quiet pleasant ways! What a thing to say!

Mrs. Riis. Svava can be passionate enough.

Riis. Svava never forgets her manners as your mother did.

Mrs. Riis. You never understood mother. Still, no doubt they are unlike in a great many things.

Riis. Absolutely!—Can you see now how right I was in chattering to her in various languages from the beginning, even when she was quite tiny? Can you see that now? You were opposed to my doing it.

Mrs. Riis. I was opposed to your perpetually plaguing the child, and also to the endless jumping from one thing to another.

Riis. But look at the result, my dear! Look at the result! (Begins to hum a tune.)