FT ./n Camelot Series If 8% EDITED BY ERNEST RHYS PLAYS BY HENRIK IBSEN. THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY, AND OTHER PLAYS. BY HENRIK IBSEN. EDITED, WITH AN INTRODUCTION, BY HAVELOCK ELLIS? NEW YORK : THOMAS WHITTAKRR TORONTO : W. J. GAGE AND CO. 1888 CONTENTS. PAGE INTRODUCTION . . vit NOTE ........... xxxi THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY i GHOSTS . 115 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY 199 PREFACE. THE Scandinavian group of countries holds to-day a position not unlike that held at the beginning of the century by Germany. They speak, in various modified forms, a language which the rest of the world have regarded as little more than barbarous, and are regarded generally as an innocent and primitive folk. Yet they contain centres of intense literary activity ; they have produced novels of a peculiarly fresh and penetrating realism ; and they possess, moreover, a stage on which great literary works may be performed, and the burning questions of the modern world be scenically resolved. It is natural that Norway, with its historical past and literary traditions, should be the chief centre of this activity, and that a Norwegian should stand forth to-day as the chief figure of European significance that has appeared in the Teutonic world of art since Goethe. To understand Norwegian art whether in its popular music, with its extremes of melancholy or hilarity, or in its highly-developed literature we must understand the peculiar character of the land which has produced this people. It is a land having, in its most characteristic regions, a year of but one day and night the summer a perpetual warm sunlit day filled with the aroma of trees and plants, and the rest of the year a night of darkness and horror ; a viii PREFACE. land which is the extreme northern limit of European civilisa- tion, on the outskirts of which the great primitive gods still dwell ; and where elves and fairies and mermaids are still regarded, according to the expression of Jonas Lie, as tame domestic animals. Such an environment must work mightily on the spirit and temper of the race. As one of the persons in Ejornson's Over QLvne observes "There is something in Nature here which challenges whatever is extraordinary in us. Nature herself here goes beyond all ordinary measure. We have night nearly all the winter; we have day nearly all the summer, with the sun by day and by night above the horizon. You have seen it at night half- veiled by the mists from the sea ; it often looks three, even four, times larger than usual. And then the play of colours on sky, sea and rock, from the most glowing red to the softest and most delicate yellow and white. And then the colours of the Northern Lights on the winter sky, with their more suppressed kind of wild pictures, yet full of unrest and for ever changing. Then the other wonders of Nature ! These millions of sea-birds, and the wandering processions of fish, stretching for miles ! These perpendicular cliffs that rise directly out of the sea ! They are not like other moun- tains, and the Atlantic roars round their feet. And the ideas of the people are correspondingly unmeasured. Listen to their legends and stories." So striking are the contrasts in the Norwegian character that they have been supposed to be due to the mingling of races ; the fair-haired, blue-eyed Norwegian of the old Sagas, silent and deep-natured, being modified now (especially in the north) by the darker, brown-eyed Lapp, with his weak- ness of character, vivid imagination, and tendency to natural mysticism, and, again (especially in the east), by the daring, practical, energetic Finn. PREFACE. ix However this may be, among the Norwegian poets and novelists various qualities often meet together in striking opposition ; wild and fantastic imagination stands beside an exact realism and a loving grasp of nature ; a tendency to mysticism and symbol beside a healthy naturalism. We find these characteristics variously combined in Ibsen ; in Bjornson, with his- virile strength and generous emotions, amid which a mystic influence now and then appears ; in Jonas Lie, with his subtle and delicate spirit, so intimately national ; in Kielland, a realistic novelist of most dainty and delicate art, beneath which may be heard the sombre undertone of his sympathy with the weak and the oppressed. Of these writers, and others only less remarkable, one alone is at all well known in England, and even he is known exclusively by his early work, especially by that most delightful of peasant stories, Arne. In Germany the Scandinavian novelists and dramatists have received much attention, and are widely Jcnown through excellent and easily accessible translations. Yet our English speech is hardly less closely allied to the northern ; while as to blooil- relationship, our land is studded with easily recognisable Scandinavian colonies, whose dialects are still full of genuine Scandinavian words unknown to literary English. It is not likely that this indifference to the social, political, and literary history of our northern kinsmen will last much longer, and this little volume will, at all events, help to bring them nearer to us. The three plays here given, by which Ibsen is, for almost the first time, adequately presented to the English reader, have been selected because they seemed to be with the exception of "A Doll's House," already translated, and " Rosmersholm, " which will, I hope, soon follow the most remarkable of his social dramas. x PREFACE. Henrik Ibsen* was born on the 2oth of March 1828, at Skien, a small town on the south coast of Norway engaged in the export of timber, which is floated down the streams from the highlands above, and also noted as a centre of Pietistic religious influence. In this fir-scented town, at the head of a narrow fjord, between the mountains and the sea, an insignificant little wooden house is still shown as Ibsen's birthplace, t His father, Knud Ibsen, who occupied a middle-class position in Skien as a small merchant, had married Marie Cornelia Altenburg, whose father came over from North Germany ; and Ibsen is thus a distinguished example of the exceptional power which frequently accrues to the children from the mixture of races in the parents. Ol his childhood nothing is known ; if we may judge from very- slight indications, especially from his absence of allusion to this period, it was scarcely happy. He left school at the age of sixteen, provided, at all events, with a fair stock of Latin, to begin life as an apothecary's apprentice at the little seaport of Grimstad in the south of Arendal ; his purpose being to go eventually to the University of Christiania to study medicine. In the leisure moments of his work he amused himself by writing extravagant satires on the citizens of Grimstad, and drawing carricatures. It was while reading Sallust and Cicero for his examination that he * Many books and pamphlets dealing with his life and works have appeared in Denmark, Sweden, and Germany. The chief of these are Vasenius's Henrik Ibsen, ett Skaldeportrdtt, Stockholm, 1882 ; Passarge's Henrik Ibsen : Ein Beitrag zur neusten Geschichte der norwegischen Nationalist. ratur, Leipsic, 1883; and a book called Henrik Ibsen, 1828-1888, which has just been published at Copenhagen by H. Jaeger. t Unless it was destroyed by the fire which burnt down nearly the whole of Skien last year. PREFACE. xi conceived, and wrote at midnight, his first play, " Catilina." With the help of two enthusiastic young friends the tragedy was published and some thirty copies sold a result which did not permit of the proposed tour in the East on which the three friends had decided to expend the profits of the sale. Ibsen was now in his twenty-second year, and he came up to Christiania to carry on his studies at the school of Heltberg, who seems to have had a singularly stim- ulating influence on the young men under his care. Here Ibsen was the comrade of Bjornson, Jonas Lie, and others who have since become famous. At a later date Bjornson condensed his youthful impression of his friend in two vigorous lines : " Tense and lean, the colour of gypsum, Behind a vast coal-black beard, Henrik Ibsen." The period now arrived at which Ibsen's career was definitely settled. He had been making several unsuc- cessful literary attempts at Christiania, having finally abandoned the intention to study medicine, when, in 1851, the famous violinist, Ole Bull, who has done so much to give artistic shape and energy to the modern Norwegian spirit, appointed him director of the National Theatre which he had recently established at Bergen. Ibsen's 'prentice hand was now trained by the writing of several dramas not included among his published works ; and, like Shakespeare and Moliere in somewhat similar circumstances, he here acquired his mastery of the technical demands of dramatic form. In 1855 his apprenticeship may be said to have ended, and he produced " Fru Inger til Ostratt " (Dame Inger of Ostraat), an historical prose drama of great energy and concentration. In 1858 he married Susanna Thoresen, the daughter of a Bergen clergyman, whose xii PREFACE. second wife, Magdalene Thoresen, is a well-known authoress. At the same period he was appointed artistic director of the Norwegian theatre at Christiania, exchang- ing posts with Bjornson, who had just inaugurated the Norwegian peasant novel by the publication of Synnove Solbakken. In 1864, having acquired the means, Ibsen found it desirable to quit the somewhat provincial and uncongenial atmosphere of his native country, and has since lived in Rome, in Ischia, and at other places, but mainly in Dresden or Munich, producing on an average a drama every two years. In 1885 he revisited Norway. Time had brought its revenges, and he was enthusiastically received everywhere. At Drontheim he made a remarkable speech to a club of working-men. " Mere democracy," he said, "cannot solve the social question. An element of aristocracy must be introduced into our life. Of course I do not mean the aristocracy of birth or of the purse, or even the aristocracy of intellect. I mean the aristocracy of char- acter, of will, of mind. That only can free us. From two groups will this aristocracy I hope for come to our people from our women and our workmen. The revolution in the social condition, now preparing in Europe, is chiefly concerned with the future of the workers and the women. In this I place all my hopes and expectations ; for this I will work all my life and with all my strength." In private conversation, it is said, Ibsen describes himself as a Socialist, although he has not identified himself with any definite school of Socialism. In personal appearance he is rather short, but impressive and very vigorous. He has a peculiarly broad and high forehead, with small, keen, blue-grey eyes, " which seem to penetrate to the heart of things." His firm and compressed mouth is characteristic of " the man of the iron will," as he PREFACE. xiii has been called by a fellow-countryman. Altogether it is a remarkable and significant face, clear-seeing and' alert, with a decisive energy of will about it that none can fail to recognise. It is far indeed from the typical "pure, extrava- gant, yearning, questioning artist's face." It recalls, rather, the faces of some of our most distinguished sur- geons ; as is perhaps meet in the case of a writer who has used so skilful and daring a scalpel to cut to the core of social diseases. In society, although he likes talking to the common people, Ibsen is usually reserved and silent ; or his conversation deals with the most ordinary topics. When, however, he is among intimate friends, he seems to have some resemblance to his own Dr. Stockmann. Ibsen's dramas (excluding two or three which he no longer recognises) may be conveniently divided into three groups, which, in the case of the first two, merge into one another : i. Historical and Legendary Dramas, chiefly in Prose: the youthful "Catilina" (written in 1850, but revised at a later period), which stands by itself, and contains the germ of much of his later work ; " Fru Inger til Ostraat " (Dame Inger of Ostraat), 1855, an effective melo- dramatic play of great technical skill ; " Gildet paa Solhaug" (The Feast at Solhaug), an historical play of the fourteenth century, written in 1855, and reprinted in 1883, with a pre- face explaining its genesis ; " Haermsendene paa Helgeland " (The Warriors at Helgeland), 1858, a noble version of the Volsunga-Saga, in which the dramatist presents a vivid and human picture of the Viking period; " Kongs-emnerne" (The Pretenders), 1864, dealing with Norwegian history in the twelfth century; "Keiser og Galilseer" (Emperor and Galilean), finished in 1873, but begun many years earlier. 2. Dramatic Poems : " Kjaerlighedens Komedie " (Love's Comedy), 1862; "Brand," 1866; "Peer Gynt," 1867. xiv PREFACE. 3. Social Dramas: "De Unges Forbund" (The Young Men's League), 1869; "Samfundets Stolter" (The Pillars of Society), 1877; "Et Dukkehjem" (A Doll's House, which translators have taken upon themselves to call " Nora " ), 1879; " Gengangere " (Ghosts), 1881 ; "En Folkefiende" (An Enemy of Society), 1882; "Vildanen" (The Wild Duck), 1884; " Rosmersholm," 1886. The plays of the first group, though for the most part well worth study, are of less interest than the others to those who seek chiefly in Ibsen what is of European significance. The most important of this group is the last, " Emperor and Galilean,"* which, although historical and written in prose, belongs in date as well as in character almost as much to the second group. It is made up of two five-act dramas, presenting a series of brilliant and powerful scenes in the life of the Emperor Julian, which lack, however, dramatic unity and culminating interest. It is probable that the disconnected character of the work, and its possibly undue length, is owing to the long period which intervened between its commencement in Norway and its completion at Rome. It is, in its parts, undoubtedly a fascinating work ; we trace Julian's life from his youth as a student of philosophy to his death as Emperor conquered by the Galilean. The interest of his life lies in his various relations to the growing Christianity and decaying Paganism by which he is surrounded. Julian realises the possibility of a third religion "the reconciliation between nature and spirit, the return to nature through spirit : that is the task for humanity." But he imagines that he is himself the divine representative of this new religion. His friend Maximus prophesies at the end * It may be noted that this was the first of Ibsen's dramas to be translated into English, by Miss Catherine Ray, in 1876. PREFACE. xv that both Emperor and Galilean shall perish at last. " The third kingdom shall come ! The spirit of man shall take its inheritance once more." Julian failed because he was weak and vain, and because the age was against him ; he dies with the cry on his lips, " Thou hast conquered, O Galilean ! " " Love's Comedy," the earliest of the poems of the second group, is the first work in which Ibsen's characteristic tone appears, not again to vanish. It is a satire on the various conventional phases of love, exquisite in form but com- paratively slight in texture. In " Brand" Ibsen produced the earliest of his masterpieces, a poem which, for imagination and sombre energy, stands alone. It is, perhaps, the most widely known of all his works ; in Germany it has already found four translators, and we may reasonably hope that before long a translator will arise even in England. "Brand " is the tragedy of will and self-sacrifice in the service of the ideal a narrow ideal, but less narrow, Ibsen seems some- times to hint, than the ideals of most of us. The motto on which Brand acts in all the crises of his life is, " All < r nothing ; " and with him it means in every case the crushing of some human emotion or relationship for the fulfilment of a religious duty. Soon after the commencement of the poem Brand became the pastor of a gloomy little northern valley, between mountains and glaciers, into which the sun seldom penetrates. He is accompanied by his wife Agnes, a pathetic image of love and devotion. A child is born to them, who soon dies in this sun-forsaken valley. There are few passages in literature of more penetrating pathos than the scene in the fourth act in which, one Christmas eve, the first anniversary of the child's death, Brand persuades Agnes to give her Alf's clothes the last loved relics to a beggar-woman who comes to the door with her child during a snow-storm. Soon Agnes xvi PREFACE. also dies. In the end, stoned by his flock, Brand makes his way, bleeding, up into the mountains. Here, amid the wild rocks and his own hallucinations, he is met by a mad girl who mistakes him for the thorn-crowned Christ. This scene, in which, overwhelmed at last by an ava- lanche, Brand dies amid his broken ideals, attains an imaginative height not elsewhere reached in modern litera- ture, and for the like of which we have to look back to the great scene on the heath in " Lear." Here and elsewhere, however, Ibsen brings in supernatural voices, which scarcely heighten the natural grandeur of the scene, and which seem out ot place altogether in a modern poem. " Brand" brings before us a wealth ot figures and of discus- sions, carried on in brief, clear, musical, though irregular, metrical form, and it would be impossible to analyse so complex a work within moderate compass. The same is true of " Peer Gynt," Ibsen's next work. This is regarded in his own country as his most important achievement, for it is a great modern national epic, the Scandinavian "Faust." A successful attempt has even been made to represent it on the stage, the music being composed by Grieg. The name of its hero and many incidents in his career have their home in old Norwegian folk-lore, and Ibsen has himself declared that Peer Gynt is intended as the representative of the Norwegian people. Peer is the child of imagination who lives in a world in which fantasy and reality can scarcely be distinguished. He is an egotist with colossal ambitions ; at the same time he is by no means wanting in worldly wisdom ; he goes to America, and makes a large fortune (later on suddenly lost) by the importation of slaves and the exportation of idols to China, a trade which he reconciles to his conscience by opening up another branch of business for supplying missionaries (at a consider- PREFACE. xvii able profit) with Bibles and rum. The whole is a series of scenes and adventures, often fantastic or symbolical in character, always touched by that profound irony which is Ibsen's most marked feature. One scene is so original and penetrative that it stands alone in litera- ture. It is that scene of peculiarly Norwegian essence in which Peer Gynt enters the hut in which his mother lies dying, with the fire on the hearth and the old tom-cat on a stool at the bottom of the bed. He talks to her in the tone of the days of childhood, reminding her how they used to play at driving to the fairy-tale castle of Soria Moria. He sits at the foot of the bed, throws a string round the stool on which the cat lies, takes a stick in his hand, imagines a journey to Heaven the altercation with St. Peter at the gate, the deep bass voice of God declaring that Mother Aase shall enter free and lulls her to death with the stories with which she had once lulled him to sleep. At a much later date in his career Peer finds himself in a madhouse at Cairo, where he is assured that his own guiding principle of the self-sufficiency of the individual, without regard for the actions or opinions of others, is carried out to its extreme limits. He is here acclaimed as emperor and crowned with a garland of straw. Thus are his dreams of empire fulfilled. In the end he returns, a white-haired old man, to be eagerly welcomed by the faithful Solveig, whom, as a girl, he had forsaken, and who is now an old woman, still waiting for him with the kingdom of love that he had missed. The poem ends with the picture of Solveig singing over her lover a cradle-song of death. The failure of an over-mastering imagination and weak will to attain the love that alone satisfies, that is the last lesson of this marvellous work, so full of manifold meaning. It is certainly by the third and latest group the Social B xviii PREFACE. Dramas that Ibsen has gained most enthusiastic partisans as well as many enemies. They are all written in mature life, and he has here devoted his early gained mastery of the technical requirements of the drama, as well as the later acquired experiences of men, to a keen criticism of the social life of to-day. He himself, it is said, regards these plays as his chief title to remembrance. It is scarcely possible to say so much as this. Their significance to-day cannot be over-estimated ; but when our social conditions cease to correspond to Ibsen's vivid and ironic pictures, and the reforms which they indicate, it is probable that "Brand" and " Peer Gynt," with their more purely imaginative interest, will rank as the chief of his works. But it certainly does not befit us of to-day to complain that Ibsen has devoted his most mature art to work which has its chief significance to-day. That significance may be very easily set forth ; the spirit that works through Ibsen's latest dramas is the same that may be detected in his earliest, " Catiline ; " it is an eager insistance that the social environment shall not cramp the reasonable freedom of the individual, together with a passionately intense hatred of all those conventional lies which are commonly regarded as " the pillars of society." But this impulse that underlies nearly all Ibsen's dramas of the last group is always under the control of a great dramatic artist. The dialogue is brief and incisive ; every word tells, and none is superfluous ; there is no brilliant play of dialogue for its own sake, as in our own greatest master of prose comedy, Congreve. If there is fault to find in the construction of Ibsen's prose dramas, it lies in their richness of material ; the subsidiary episodes are fre- quently dramas in themselves, although duly subordinate to the main purpose of the play. The care lavished on the development and episodes of these dramas is equalled by PREFACE. xix the reality and variety of the persons presented. These are never mere embodied " humours " or sarcastic caricatures ; the terrible keenness of Ibsen's irony comes of the simple truth and moderation with which he describes these social humbugs who are yet so eminently reasonable and like ourselves. Every figure brought before us, even the most insignificant, is an organic and complex personality, to be recognised without trick or catchword. " The Young Men's League," the earliest of the series, deals with the rise and progress of one Stensgaard. He is an essentially vulgar and commonplace man, whose ambition il is to gain political success. Clever he undoubtedly is, but at the same time short-sighted, conceited, absolutely wanting in tact. He is even unstable, save in the great central aim of his life, which he seeks to bring about by the formation of a compact majority of voters, of which the nucleus is the Young Men's League. Stensgaard is always at his best as an orator; he is a Numa Roumestan genial, almost childishly open-hearted, with a flow of facile emotion and a great mastery of phrases. We leave him under a cloud of contempt, but nowise defeated ; and we are given to under- stand that he is on his way to the highest offices of state. In this vivid and skilful portrait of the representative leader of semi-democratised societies, Ibsen has given his chief utterance on current political methods, and it is scarcely favourable. He realises that government by party mobs, each headed by a Stensgaard a phase in the progress towards complete democratisation admirably illustrated in England to-day is by no means altogether satisfactory. " A party," remarks Dr. Stockmann, in " An Enemy of Society," "is like a sausage-machine : it grinds all the heads together in one mash." Something more fundamental even than party government is needed, and in some words written xx PREFACE. in 1870 Ibsen has briefly expressed what he conceives to be the pith of the matter : " The coming time how all our notions will fall into the dust then ! And truly it is high time. All that we have lived on up till now has been the remnants of the revolutionary dishes of the last century, and we have been long enough chewing these over and over again. Our ideas demand a new substance and a new interpretation. Liberty, equality and fraternity are no longer the same things that they were in the days of the blessed guillotine ; but it is just this that the politicians will not understand, and that is why I hate them. These people only desire partial revolutions, revolutions in externals, in politics. But these are mere trifles. There is only one thing that avails to revolutionise people's minds." He is not an aristocrat of the school of Carlyle, eager to put everything beneath the foot of a Cromwell or a Bismarck. The great task for democracy is, as Rosmer says in " Rosmersholm," "to make every man in the land a nobleman." It is only by the creation of great men and women, by the enlargement to the utmost of the reasonable freedom of the individual, that the realisation of Democracy is possible. And herein, as in other fundamental matters, Ibsen is at one with the American, with whom he would appear at first sight to have little in common. " Where the men and women think lightly of the laws ; . . . where the populace rise at once against the never-ending audacity of elected persons ; . . . where outside authority enters always after the precedence of inside authority ; where the citizen is always the head and ideal ; where children are taught to be laws to themselves ; . . . there the great city stands ! " exclaims Walt Whitman. In "The Pillars of Society" which was separated from " The Young Men's League " by the appearance of " Emperor and Galilean " Ibsen pours delicious irony on PREFACE. xxi those conventional lies which are regarded as the founda- tions of social and domestic life. In this play also he presents us with one of the most eminent of his clergymen. Straamand in "Love's Comedy," Manders in "Ghosts," Rorlund here, with many minor clerical figures scattered through other plays, notwithstanding slight differences, are closely allied. The clergyman is for Ibsen the supreme representative and exponent of conventional morality. Yet the dramatist never falls into the mistake of some of his Scandinavian contemporaries, who make their clerical figures mere caricatures. Here, as always, it is because it is so reasonable and truthful that Ibsen's irony is so keen. Rorlund is honest and conscientious, but the thinnest veils of propriety are impenetrable to him ; he can see nothing but the obvious and external aspects of morality ; he is incapable of grasping a new idea, or of sympathising with any natural instinct or generous emotion ; it is his part to give utterance, impressive with the sanction of religion, to the traditional maxims of the society he morally sup- ports. Pastor Manders, in "Ghosts," is less fluent than Rorlund, and of stronger character. His training and experience have fitted him to deal in all dignity with the proprieties and conventions of social morality ; but when he is in the presence of the realities of life, or when a generous human thought or emotion flashes out before him, he shrinks back shocked and cowed. He is then, as Mrs. Alving says, nothing but a great child. That Ibsen is, in his clerical personages, as some have said, covertly attacking Protestantism, it is not necessary to assert. It is the traditional morality, of which the priesthood everywhere are the chief and authorised exponents, with which he is chiefly concerned. His attitude towards Christianity generally we may perhaps gather from the intensity of feeling with which xxii PREFACE. Julian, in " Emperor and Galilean," expresses his pas- sionate repugnance to its doctrine of the evil of human nature and its policy of suppression. " You can never understand it, you," he continues, " who have never been in the power of this God-Man. It is more than a doctrine which he has spread over the world ; it is a charm which has fettered the senses. Whoever falls once into his hands never becomes quite free again. We are like vines planted in a foreign, unsuitable soil ; plant us elsewhere and we shall develop ; we degenerate in this new earth." " A Doll's House " contains Ibsen's most elaborate portrait of a woman, and it is his chief contribution to the elucidation of the questions relating to the social functions and position of women in the modern world. It is the tragedy of marriage, and on this ground it has excited much dis- cussion, and is perhaps the most widely known of Ibsen's social dramas.* As a work of art it is probably the most perfect of them. He has here thrown off the last fragments of that conventionality in treatment which frequently mars the two previous plays, and has reached the full development of his own style. The play is an organic whole, all its parts are intimately bound together, and every step in the development is vital and inevitable. Nora herself, the occupant of the doll's house, is a being whose adult instincts have been tempor- arily arrested by the influences which have made her an over- grown child. She is the daughter of a frivolous official of doubtful honesty ; she has been fed on those maxims of conventional morality of which Rorlund is so able an expon- ent ; and her chief recreation has been in the servants' room. She is now a mother, and the wife of a man who * In England it is at present best known through Miss Lord's translation. PREFACE. xxiii shields her carefully from all contact with the world. He refrains from sharing with her his work or his troubles ; he fosters all her childish instincts ; she is a source of enjoyment to him, a precious toy. He is a man of aesthetic tastes, and his love for her has something of the delight that one takes in a work of art. Nora's conduct is the natural outcome ot her training and experience. She tells lies with facility ; she flirts almost recklessly to attain her own ends ; when money is concerned her conceptions 01 right are so elementary that she forges her father's name. But she acts from the impulses of a loving heart ; her motives are always good ; she is not conscious of guilt. Her education in life has not led her beyond the stage of the affectionate child with no sense 01 responsibility. But the higher instincts are latent within her; and they awake when the light o day at length penetrates her doll's house, and she learns the judgment 01 the world, of which her husband now stands forth as the stern interpreter. In the clash and shock Oi that moment she realises that her marriage has been no marriage, that she has been living all these years with a " strange man," and that she is no fit mother for her children. She leaves her home, not to return until, as she says, to live with her husband will be a real marriage. Will she ever return ? The Norwegian poets, it has been said, like to end their dramas, as such end in life, with a note of interrogation. Nora is one Oi a group 01 women, more or less highly developed, who are distributed throughout Ibsen's later plays. They stand, in their stagnant conventional environ- ment, as, either instinctively or intelligently, actually or potentially, the representatives of freedom and truth, containing the promise of a new social order. The men in these plays, who are able to estimate their social surroundings xxiv PREFACE. at a just value, have mostly been wounded or paralysed in the battle of life; they stand by, half-cynical, and are content to be merely spectators. But the women Selma, Lona, Nora, Mrs. Alving, Petra, Rebecca are full of unconquerable energy. There is a new life in their breasts that surges, often tumultuously, into very practical expression. As "The Doll's House" is the tragedy of marriage, so " Ghosts " is the tragedy of heredity. Oswald Alving, in this powerful play, is the son of a drunken and dissolute father, but his mother has brought him up, away from home, in entire ignorance of this fact. Mrs. Alving is a woman of energy and intellect, who has managed the estate, and devoted herself successfully to the task of creating an artificial odour of sanctity around the memory of her late husband. At the same time she has been gradually throwing aside the precepts of the morality in which she has been educated, and has learned to think for herself. When Oswald returns home, in reality dying of disease that has been latent from his birth, he seems to her the ghost of his father. His own life has been free from excess, but he now drinks too much ; and he begins to make love to the girl who is really his half-sister, exactly as his father had clone to her mother in the same place. The scene finally closes over the first clear signs of his madness. The irony of the play is chiefly brought about by the involuntary agency of Pastor Manders, the consummate flower of conventional morality, and in the few hours which the action covers the tragedy of heredity is slowly and relentlessly unfolded, with the vanity of all efforts to conceal or suppress the great natural forces of life. We realise here, better, perhaps, than elsewhere, how Ibsen has absorbed the scientific influences of his time, the attitude of unlimited simplicity and trust in PREFACE. xxv the face of reality. " I almost think," Mrs. Alving says, "that we are all of us ghosts, Pastor Mandcrs. It is not only what we have inherited from our father and mother that 'walks' in us. It is all sorts of dead ideas and lifeless old beliefs and so forth. They have no vitality, but they cling to us all the same, and we can't get rid of them. Whenever I take up a newspaper I seem to see ghosts gliding between the lines. There must be ghosts all the country over, as thick as the sand of the sea." There is the absolute acceptance of facts, however disagreeable. But, beside it, is the hope that lies in the skilful probing of the wound that the ignorant have foolishly smothered up ; the hope also that lies in a glad trust of nature and of natural instincts. " Ghosts " is perhaps the greatest of all Ibsen's plays ; nowhere else can we feel so strong and invigorating a breath of new life. "An Enemy of Society" is closely connected in its origin with "Ghosts." When "Ghosts" was published it aroused fierce antagonism. Such a subject was not suited, it was said, to artistic treatment The discussion was foolish enough; the wise saying of Goethe still remains true, that " no real cir- cumstance is unpoetic so long as the poet knows how to use it" All the worthy people, however, in whose name Pastor Manders is entitled to speak, declared, further, that the play was immoral as it certainly is from their point of view and it was some time before its first representation on the stage, with the distinguished northern actor, Lindberg, in the part of Oswald.* Ibsen had expected a storm, but * Like most things that begin by arousing opposition, "Ghosts "is becoming widely known and appreciated. In Germany it has been acted by the Meiningen and other companies ; in Paris it is now about to be produced at the Theatre Libre ; in time, probably, it will reach England. xxvi PREFACE. the storm was even greater than he had anticipated ; and it has been supposed that in the history of Dr. Stockmann he has given an artistic version of his own experiences at this time. There can be little doubt that this surmise is correct, and it is pleasant that the only figure in these plays that we can intimately associate with Ibsen him- self is that of the manly and genial Stockmann. He is by no means an ideal figure : he is very real and human, with all sorts of human weaknesses ; by temperament and scientific education he is unable to hold his peace when he has made a great discovery affecting the well-being of society ; and in his own family circle is always blurt- ing out nakedly his opinions of everything and everybody. When he discovers that the water at the Baths, of which he is the medical director, and which are the chief cause of the town's prosperity, are infected and producing disastrous results to the invalids, he resolves that the matter shall at once be made known and remedied. It is in the shock of the universal disapprobation that this resolution arouses that our genial and homely doctor is lifted into heroism, and becomes the mouthpiece of truths with far-reaching signifi- cance. The great scene in the fourth act, in which he calls a public meeting as the only remaining way to make his discovery public, and, amid general clamour, sets forth his opinions, is one of the most powerful and genuinely dramatic that Ibsen has ever written. It adds to the interest of the scene when we realise that Stockmann's speech exactly applies to the position of the dramatist. Stockmann gains a moral victory, but the position of himself and his family in the town is ruined ; he resolves to remain there, however, teaching ragamuffin children and doctoring the poor gratuitously, declaring at the end that " the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone." PREFACE. xxvii Alone for the moment only : Stockmann's action was genuinely social, prompted by genuinely social motives ; and the strength of his position lies in the prospect of his eventual success. " The Wild Duck " is, as a drama, the least remarkable of Ibsen's plays of this group. There is no central personage who absorbs our attention, and no great situation. For the first time also we detect a certain tendency to mannerism, and the dramatist's love of symbolism, here centred in the wild duck, becomes obtrusive and disturbing. Yet this play has a distinct and peculiar interest for the student of Ibsen's works. The satirist who has so keenly pursued others has never spared himself; in the lines that he has set at the end of the charming little volume in which he has collected his poems, he declares that, " to write poetry is to hold a doomsday over oneself." Or, as he has elsewhere expressed it " All that I have written corresponds to something that I have lived through, if not actually ex- perienced. Every new poem has served as a spiritual pro- cess of emancipation and purification." In both "Brand" and "Peer Gynt" we may detect this process. Of late years, the chief accusation against Ibsen has been that he is an idealist making impossible claims on life ; although, in face of the robust naturalism of " Ghosts," it is not necessary to do more than point out that the charge is hardly accurate. In "The Wild Duck" Ibsen has set himself on the side of his enemies, and written, as a kind of anti- mask to " Nora " and " The Pillars of Society," a play in which, from the standpoint to which the dramatist has accus- tomed us, everything is topsy-turvy. Gregory Werle is a young man possessing something of the reckless will-power of Brand, who is devoted "to the claims of the ideal," and who is doubtless an enthusiastic student of Ibsen's social xxviii PREFACE. dramas. On returning home after a long absence he learns that his father has provided for a cast-off mistress by marrying her to an unsuspecting man, who is an old friend of Gregory's. He resolves at once that it is his duty at all costs to destroy the element of falsehood in this household, and to lay the foundations of a true marriage. His inter- ference ends in disaster; the weak average human being fails to respond properly to " the claims of the ideal ; " while Werle's father, the chief pillar of conventional society in the play, spontaneously forms a true marriage, founded on mutual confessions and mutual trust. The usually drunken doctor, with whom the word of reason seems generally to rest throughout, and who regards " ideals " and " lies " which, however, he elsewhere terms " the stimulating principle in life " as synonymous, asserts at the end that " life would be quite good if we might be delivered from those dear fanatics who rush into our houses with their ideal claims." That is the conclusion of a play which, while, as we have seen, it may be regarded, not quite unfairly, as a burlesque of possible deductions from the earlier plays, witnesses also, like " Ghosts," to Ibsen's profound conviction that all vital development must be spontaneous and from within, conditioned by the nature of the individual. In " Rosmersholm," Ibsen's latest play*, social questions have passed into the background : they are present, indeed, throughout ; and to some extent they cause the tragedy of the drama, as the numberless threads that bind a man to his past, and that cut and oppress him when he strives to take a step forward. But on this grey background the passionate figure of Rebecca West forms a vivid and highly- wrought portrait. Ibien has rarely shown such intimate * A new one is expected this year. PREFACE. xxix interest in the development of passion. The whole life and soul of this ardent, silent woman, whom we see in the first scene quietly working at her crotchet while the housekeeper prepares the supper, are gradually revealed to us in brief flashes of light between the subsidiary episodes, until at last she ascends and disappears down the inevitable path to the mill-stream. The touches which complete this picture are too many and too subtle to allow of analysis ; in the last scene Ibsen's concentrated prose reaches as high a pitch of emotional intensity as he has ever cared to attain. The men of our own great dramatic period wrote plays which are the expression of mere gladness of heart and childlike pleasure in the splendid and various spectacle ot the world. Hamlet and Falstaff, the tragic De Flores and the comic Simon Eyre they are all merely parts of the play. It is all play. The breath of Ariosto's long song of delight, and Boccaccio's virile joy in life, was still on these men, and for the organisation of society, or even for the development and fate of the individual, save as a spectacle, they took little thought. In the modern world this is no longer possible ; rather, it is only possible for an occasional individual, who is compelled to turn his back on the world. Ibsen, like Aristophanes, like Moliere, and like Dumas to-day, has given all his mature art and his knowledge of life and men to the service of ideas. " Overthrowing society means an inverted pyramid getting straight" one of the audacious sayings of James Hinton might be placed as a motto on the title-page of all Ibsen's later plays. His work through- out is the expression of a great soul crushed by the weight of an antagonistic social environment into utterance that has caused him to be regarded as the most revolutionary of modern writers. An artist and thinker, whose gigantic strength has been xxx PREFACE. nourished chiefly in solitude, whose works have been, as he himself says in one of his poems, "deeds of night," written from afar, can never be genuinely popular. Every- thing that he writes is received in his own country with attention and controversy : but he is mistaken for a cynic and pessimist ; he is not loved in Norway as Bjornson is loved, although Bjornson, in the fruitful dramatic activity of his second period, has but followed in Ibsen's steps ; just as Goethe was never so well understood and appre- ciated as Schiller. Bjornson, with his genial exuber- ance, his popular sympathies and hopes, never too far in advance of his fellows, invigorates and refreshes like one of the forces of nature. He represents the summer side of his country, in its bright warmth and fragrance. Ibsen, stand- ing alone in the darkness in iront, absorbed in the problems of human life, indifferent to the aspects of external nature, has closer affinities to the stern winter-night o* Norway. But there is a mighty energy in this man's work. The ideas and instincts, developed in silence, which inspire his art, are of the kind that penetrate men's minds slowly. Yet they penetrate surely, and are proclaimed at length in the market-place. HAVELOCK ELLIS. NOTE. OF the three dramas presented to the reader in this volume, two have not previously been translated into English ; a translation of the third has only appeared in a magazine. Mr. William Archer has presented to us the translation of " The Pillars of Society," which he had by him in MS., and which he has revised for this volume ; his name will be a sufficient guar- antee of the ability and enthusiasm which he has brought to this labour of love. To Mr. Archer also we are indebted for a most careful revision of " Ghosts." The translation is to some extent founded on that of Miss Lord (who had kindly given me permission to use her translation), which appeared in 1 ' o-Day a few years ago ; it is, however, practically new. To Mrs. Eleanor Marx Aveling is owing the skilful version ot "An Enemy of Society," perhaps the most difficult of Ibsen's social dramas to translate. H. E. THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY. 496 CHARACTERS. CONSUL BERNICK. MRS. BERNICK, his wife. OLAF, their son, a boy of thirteen. Miss BERNICK (MARTHA), the Consul's sister. JOHAN TO'NNESEN, Mrs. Bernick's younger brother. Miss HESSEL, her elder step-sister (LONA). HILMAR TO'NNESEN, Mrs. Bemick's cousin. RECTOR R^RLUND.* RUMMEL, \ VIGELAND, > Merchan is. SANDSTAD, J DINA DORF, a young girl living in the Consul's house. KRAP, the Consul's clerk. SHIPBUILDER AUNE. MRS. RUMMEL. MRS. POSTMASTER HOLT. MRS. DOCTOR LYNGE. Miss RUMMEL. Miss HOLT. Townspeople and others, foreign sailors, steamboat passengers, etc. The action tal-es place in Consul Bernick's house, in a small Norwegian coast-town. * In the original, " Adjunkt " or Assistant. [TRANSLATOR'S NOTB. The title of the original is " Samfundets Stotter," literally " Society's Pillars." In the text the word "Samfund" has some- times been translated "society," sometimes "community." The noun " Sto'tte," a pillar, has for its correlative the verb "at sto'tte," to support ; so that the English phrase, "to support society," represents the Norwegian "at stotte Samfundet." The reader may bear in mind, then, that this phrase is, in the original, a direct allusion to the title of the play.] THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY; A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. ACT I. A large garden-room in CONSUL BERNICK'S house. In front, to the left, a door leads into the Consul? s office; farther back, in the same wall, a similar door. In the middle of the opposite wall is a large entrance door. The wall in the background is almost entirely composed of plate-glass, with an open door-way leading to a broad flight of steps, ; over which a sun-shade is let down. Beyond the steps a part of the garden can be seen, shut in by a trellis-fence with a little gate. On the other side of the fence is a street consisting of small brightly-painted wooden houses. It is summer and the sun shines warmly. Now and then people pass along the street : they stop and speak to each other : customers come and go at the little corner-shop, and so forth. In the garden-room a number of ladies are gathered round a table. At the head of the table sits MRS. BERNICK. On her left sit MRS. HOLT and her daughter : next to them, MRS. and Miss RUMMEL. On MRS. BERNICK'S right sit MRS. LYNGE, Miss BERNICK (MARTHA), # but says nothing\. Manders. But I am not talking of bachelors' quarters. By a "home" I understand the home of a family, where a man lives with his wife and children. Oswald. Yes; or with his children and his children's mother. Manders \starls; clasps his hands~\. But good heavens ! 140 GHOSTS. Oswald. Well? Manders. Lives with his children's mother ! Oswald. Yes. Would you have him turn his children's mother out of doors ? Manders. Then it is illicit relations you are talking of. Irregular marriages, as people call them ! Oswald. I have never noticed anything particularly irreg- ular about the life these people lead. Manders. But how is it possible that a a young man or young woman with any decent principles can endure to live in that way ? in the eyes of all the world ! Oswald. What are they to do ? A poor young artist a poor girl. It costs a lot of money to get married. What are they to do ? Manders. What are they to do ? Let me tell you, Mr. Alving, what they ought to do. They ought to exercise self-restraint from the first ; that's what they ought to do. Oswald. Such talk as that won't go far with warm- blooded young people, over head and ears in love. Mrs. Alving. No, it wouldn't go far. Manders [continuing]. How can the authorities tolerate such things? Allow it to go on in the light of day? [To Mrs. Alvingl\ Had I not cause to be deeply concerned about your son ? In circles where open immorality prevails, and has even a sort of prestige ! Oswald. Let me tell you, sir, that I have been a con- stant Sunday-guest in one or two such irregular homes Manders. On Sunday of all days ! Oswald. Isn't that the day to enjoy oneself? Well, never have I heard an offensive word, and still less have I ever witnessed anything that could be called immoral. No; do you know when and where I have found immorality in artistic circles ? GHOSTS. 141 Manders. No 1 Thank heaven, I don't 1 Oswald. Well, then, allow me to inform you. I have met with it when one or other of our pattern husbands and fathers has come to Paris to have a look round on his own account, and has done the artists the honour of visiting them in their humble clubs. They knew what was what. These gentlemen could tell us all about places and things we had never dreamt of. Manders. What ! Do you mean to say that respectable men from home here would ? Oswald. Have you never heard these respectable men, when they got home again, talking about the way in which immorality was getting the upper hand abroad ? Manders. Yes, of course. Mrs. Alving. I have, too. Oswald. Well, you may take their word for it. They know what they are talking about ! [Presses his hands to his head.'} Oh ! that that great, free, glorious life out there should be defiled in such a way ! Mrs. Alving. You must not get excited, Oswald. You will do yourself harm. Oswald. Yes ; you are quite right, mother. It's not good for me. You see, I'm wretchedly worn out I'll go for a little turn before dinner. Excuse me, Pastor ; I know you can't take my point of view ; but I couldn't help speaking out. [He goes out through the second door to the right^ Mrs. Alving. My poor boy ! Manders. You may well say so. Then that's what it has come to with him ! Mrs. Alving {looks at him silently}. Manders \walking up and down\. He called himself the Prodigal Son alas ! alas ! 142 GHOSTS. Mrs. Alving [continues looking at hini\. Manders. And what do you say to all this ? Mrs. Alving. I say that Oswald was right in every word. Manders [stands still]. Right ! Right ! In such principles ! Mrs. Alving. Here, in my loneliness, I have come to the same way of thinking, Pastor Manders. But I have never dared to touch upon the matter. Well ! now my boy shall speak for me. Manders. You are much to be pitied, Mrs. Alving. But now I must speak seriously to you. And now it is no longer your business manager and adviser, your own and your late husband's early friend, who stands before you. It is the priest the priest who stood before you in the moment of your life when you had gone most astray. Mrs. Alving. And what has the priest to say to me ? Manders. I will first stir up your memory a little. The time is well-chosen To-morrow will be the tenth anniver- sary of your husband's death. To-morrow the monument in his honour will be unveiled. To-morrow I shall have to speak to the whole assembled multitude. But to-day I will speak to you alone. Mrs. Alving. Very well, Pastor Manders. Speak. Manders. Do you remember that after scarcely a year of married life you stood on the verge of an abyss ? That you forsook your house and home? That you fled from your husband? Yes, Mrs. Alving fled, fled, and refused to return to him, however much he begged and prayed of you? Mrs. Alving. Have you forgotten how infinitely miserable I was in that first year ? Manders. It is only the spirit of rebellion that craves for happiness in this life. What right have we human beings to happiness ? No, we have to do our duty ! GHOSTS. 143 And your duty was to hold firmly to the man you had once chosen and to whom you were bound by a holy tie. Mrs. Alving. You know very well what sort of life Alving was then leading what excesses he was guilty of. Manders. I know very well what rumours there were about him, and I least of all approve the life he led in his young days, if report did not wrong him. But a wife is not to be her husband's judge. It was your duty to bear with humility the cross which a Higher Power had, for your own good, laid upon you. But instead of that you rebelliously cast away the cross, desert the backslider whom you should have supported, go and risk your good name and reputation, and nearly succeed in ruining other people's reputation into the bargain. Mrs. Alving. Other people's ? One other person's, you mean. Manders. It was unspeakably reckless of you to seek refuge with me. Mrs. Alving. With our "clergyman ? With our intimate friend ? Manders. Just on that account. Yes, you may thank God that I possessed the necessary firmness; that I dissuaded you from your wild designs, and that it was vouchsafed me to lead you back to the path of duty, and home to your lawful husband. Mrs. Alving. Yes, Pastor Manders, it was certainly your work. Manders. I was but a poor instrument in a Higher Hand. And what a blessing has it not been to you all the days of your life that I got you to resume the yoke of duty and obedience ! Did it not all happen as I foretold ? Did not Alving turn his back on his errors, as a man should ? Did he not live with you from that time, lovingly and blamelessly, 144 GHOSTS. all his days ? Did he not become a benefactor to the whole district ? And did he not raise you up to him so that you little by little became his assistant in all his undertakings ? And a capital assistant, too Oh ! I know, Mrs. Alving, that praise is due to you. But now I come to the next great false step in your life. Mrs. Alving. What do you mean ? Manders. Just as you once disowned a wife's duty, so you have since disowned a mother's. Mrs. Alving. Ah! Manders. You have been all your life under the dominion of a pestilent spirit of self-will. All your efforts have been bent towards emancipation and lawlessness. You have never been willing to endure any bond. Everything that has weighed upon you in life you have cast away without care or conscience, like a burden you could throw off at will. It did not please you to be a wife any longer, and you left your husband. You found it troublesome to be a mother, and you sent your child forth among strangers. Mrs. Alving. Yes. That is true. I did so. Manders. And tkus you have become a stranger to him. Mrs. Alving. No ! no ! I am not. Manders. Yes, you are ; you must be. And how have you got him back again ? Bethink yourself well, Mrs. Alving. You have sinned greatly against your hus- band ; that you recognise by raising yonder memorial to him. Recognise now, also, how you sinned against your son. There may be time to lead him back from the paths of error. Turn back yourself, and restore what may yet be restored in him. For \with uplifted fore-finger\ verily, Mrs. Alving, you are a guilt-laden mother ! This I have thought it my duty to say to you. [Silence.~\ Mrs. Alving \slowly and with self-control]. You have GHOSTS. 145 now spoken out, Pastor Manders ; and to-morrow you are to speak publicly in memory of my husband. I shall not speak to-morrow. But now I will speak out a little to you, as you have spoken to me. Manders. To be sure. You want to bring forward excuses for your conduct Mrs. Alving. No. I will only narrate. Manders. Well? Mrs. Alving. All that you have just said about me and my husband and our life together, after you had brought me back to the path of duty as you called it these are all matters about which you know nothing from your own observation. From that moment you, who had been our intimate friend, never set foot in our house again. Manders. You and your husband left the town imme- diately after. Mrs. Alving. Yes. And in my husband's life-time you never came to see us. It was business that forced you to visit me when you undertook the affairs of the Orphanage. Manders \softly and uncertainly}. Helen if that is meant as a reproach, I would beg you to bear in mind Mrs. Alving. the regard you owed to your position ; yes, and that I was a runaway wife. One can never be too reserved with such unprincipled creatures. Manders. My dear Mrs. Alving, you know that is an absurd exaggeration Mrs. Alving. Well, well, suppose it is. All I wanted to say was, that your judgment as to my married life is founded upon nothing but current gossip. Manders. Well, perhaps it is. And what then ? Mrs. Alving. Well, then, Mr. Manders I will tell you the truth. I have sworn to myself that one day you should know it you alone ! 5S 146 GHOSTS. Manders. And what is the truth, then ? Mrs. Alving. The truth is that my husband died just as profligate as he had lived all his days, Manders [feeling after a chair\. What do you say ? Mrs. Alving. After nineteen years of marriage, as profli- gate in his desires at any rate as he was before you married us. Manders. And those those wild-oats, those irregularities, those excesses if you like, you call " a profligate life " ? Mrs. Alving. Our doctor used the expression. Manders. I don't understand you Mrs. Alving. Nor need you Mandeis It almost makes me dizzy. All your married life, the seeming union of all these years, was nothing more than a hidden abyss ! Mrs. Alving. Nothing more. Now you know Manders. That. . It will take me long to accustom myself to the thought. I can't grasp it. I can't realise it But how was it possible . How could such a state of things be kept dark ? Mrs. Alving. That has been my ceaseless struggle, day after day. After Oswald's birth, I thought Alving seemed to be a little better. But it did not last long. And then I had to struggle twice as hard, righting for life or death, so that nobody should know what srt of a man my child's father was. And you know what power Alving had of winning people's hearts. Nobody seemed able to believe anything but good of him. He was one of those people whose life does not bite upon their reputation. But at last, Mr. Manders for you must know the whole story the toost repulsive thing of all happened. Manders. More repulsive than the rest ? Mrs. Alving. I had gone on bearing with him, although GHOSTS. 147 I knew very well the secrets of his life out of doors. But when he brought the scandal within our own walls Manders. Impossible ! Here ! Mrs. Alving. Yes ; here in our own home. It was in there [pointing towards the first door on the right], in the dining- room, that I first got to know of it. I was busy with something in there, and the door was standing a-jar. I heard our housemaid come up from the garden, with water for yonder flowers. Manders. Well ? Mrs. Alving. Soon after I heard Alving come too. I heard him say something softly to her. And then I heard \with a short laugK\ oh ! it still sounds in my ears so hatefully and yet so laughably I heard my own servant- maid whisper, " Let me go, Mr. Alving ! Let me be." Manders. What unseemly levity on his part ! But it cannot have been more than levity, Mrs. Alving; believe me, it cannot. Mrs. Alving. I soon got to know what to believe. Mr. Alving had his way with the girl ; and that connection had consequences, Mr. Manders. Manders [as though petrified\ Such things in this house ! in this house ! Mrs. Alving. I had borne a great deal in this house. To keep him at home in the evenings and at night I had to make myself his boon-companion in his secret orgies up in his room. There I have had to sit alone with him, to clink glasses and drink with him, and listen to his ribald, silly talk. I have had to fight with him to get him dragged to bed Manders \moved~\. And you were able to bear all that ? Mrs. Alving. I had my little son to bear it for. But when the last insult was added ; when my own servant-maid. . , . 148 GHOSTS. then I swore to myself : This shall come to an end. And so I took the upperhand in the house the whole control over him and over everything else. For now I had a weapon against him, you see ; he dared not oppose me. It was then that Oswald was sent from home. He was in his seventh year, and was beginning to observe and ask questions as children do. That I could not bear. I thought the child must get poisoned by merely breathing the air in this polluted home. That was why I placed him out. And now you can see, too, why he was never allowed to set foot inside his home so long as his father lived. No one knows what it has cost me. Manders. You have indeed had a life of trial. Mrs. Alving. I could never have borne it if I had not had had my work. For I may truly say that I have worked ! All these additions to the estate all the improve- ments all the useful appliances that won Alving such general praise do you suppose he had energy for anything of the sort ? he who lay all day on the sofa and read an old court guide ! No ; this I will tell you too : it was I who urged him on when he had his better intervals ; it was I who had to drag the whole load when he relapsed into his evil ways, or sank into querulous wretchedness. Manders. And it is to that man you raise a memorial. Mrs. Alving. There you see the power of a bad con- science. Manders. A bad . . . ? What do you mean ? Mrs. Alving. It always seemed to me impossible but that the truth must come out and be believed. So the Asylum was to deaden all rumours and banish doubt Manders. In that you have certainly not missed your aim, Mrs. Alving. GHOSTS. 149 Mrs. Alving. And besides, I had one other reason. I did not wish that Oswald, my own boy, should inherit anything whatever from his father. Manders, Then it is Alving's fortune that ? Mrs. Alving. Yes. The sums which I have spent upon the Orphanage, year by year, make up the amount I have reckoned it up precisely the amount which made Lieu- tenant Alving a good match in his day. Manders. I dont quite understand Mrs. Alving. It was my purchase-money. I do not choose that that money should pass into Oswald's hands. My son shall have everything from me everything. [Oswald Alving enters through the second door to the right ; he has taken off his hat and overcoat in the hall. Mrs. Alving goes towards him.] Are you back again already ? my dear, dear boy ! Oswald. Yes. What can a fellow do out of doors in this eternal rain ? But I hear dinner's ready. That's capital ! Regina [with a parcel, from the dining-room]. A parcel has come for you, Mrs. Alving [hands it to her]. Mrs. Alving [with a glance at Mr. Mander$~\. No doubt copies of the ode for to-morrow's ceremony. Manders. Hm. . . . Regina. And dinner is ready. Mrs. Alving. Very well. We will come presently. I will just . . . [begins to open the parcel]. Regina [to Oswald]. Would Mr. Alving like red or white wine? Oswald. Both, if you please. Regina. Bien. Very well, sir. [She goes into the dining- room.] Oswald. I may as well help uncork it. [He also goes into the dining-room, the door of which swings half open behind him.] i5o GHOSTS. Mrs. Alving [who has opened the parcel\ Yes, as I thought. Here is the ceremonial ode, Pastor Manders. Manders [with folded hands]. How I'm to deliver my discourse to-morrow without embarrassment Mrs. Alving. Oh ! you'll get through it somehow. Manders [softly, so as not to be heard in the dining-room]. Yes ; it would not do to provoke scandal. Mrs. Alving [under her breath, but firmly]. No. But then this long, hateful comedy will be ended. From the day after to-morrow it shall be for me as though he who is dead had never lived in this house. No one shall be here but my boy and his mother, [from within the dining-room comes the noise of a chair overturned, and at the same moment is heard .] Regina [sharply, but whispering]. Oswald 1 take care ! are you mad ? Let me go ! Mrs. Alving [starts in terror]. Ah ! [She stares wildly towards the half-opened door. OSWALD is heard coughing and humming inside. A bottle is uncorked.] Manders [excited]. What in the world is the matter? What is it, Mrs. Alving ? Mrs. Alving [hoarsely]. Ghosts! The couple from the conservatory has risen again ! Manders. What ! Is it possible ! Regina ? Is she ? Mrs. Alving. Yes. Come. Not another word ! \She seizes MR. MANDERS by the arm, and walks unsteadily towards the dining-room^] GHOSTS. 151 ACT II. [The same room. The mist still lies heavy over the land- scape. MANDERS and MRS. ALVING enter from the dining- room^ Mrs. Alving [still in the doorway]. Velbekomme* Mr. Manders [Turns back towards the dining-room.] Aren't you coming too, Oswald ? Oswald [from within]. No, thank you. I think I shall go out a little. Mrs Alving. Yes, do. The weather seems brighter now, [She shuts the dining-room door, goes to the hall door, and calls] Regina ! Regina \outside]. Yes, Mrs. Alving. Mrs. Alving. Go down into the laundry, and help with the garlands. Regina I'll go directly, Mrs. Alving. [MRS. ALVING assures herself that REGINA goes; then shuts the doot."] Manders. I suppose he can't overhear us in there ? Mrs Alving. Not when the door is shut. Besides, he is just going out. Manders I am still quite upset. I can't think how I could get down a bit of dinner. Mrs. Alving [controlling her nervousness^ walks up and down]. No more can I. But what is to be done now? Manders. Yes ; what is to be done ? Upon my honour, * A phrase equivalent to the German Prosit die " May good digestion wait on appetite." i 5 2 GHOSTS. I don't know. I am so utterly inexperienced in matters of this sort. Mrs. Alving. I am quite convinced, that, so far, no mis- chief has been done. Manders. No; Heaven forbid! But it is an unseemly state of things, nevertheless. Mrs. Alving. The whole thing is an idle fancy of Oswald's ; you may be sure of that. Manders. Well, as I say, I'm not accustomed to affairs of the kind. But I should certainly think Mrs. Alving. Out of the house she must go, and that immediately. It is as clear as daylight. Manders. Yes, of course she must. Mrs. Alving. But where to ? It would not be right Manders. Where to ? Home to her father, of course. Mrs. Alving. To whom did you say ? Manders. To her But then, Engstrand is not ? But, good God, Mrs. Alving, how is that possible ? You must be mistaken after all. Mrs. Alving. Alas ! I'm mistaken in nothing. Johanna confessed all to me, and Alving could not deny it. So there was nothing to be done but to get the matter hushed up. Manders. No, you could do nothing else. Mrs. Alving. The girl left our service at once, and got a good sum of money to hold her tongue for the time. The rest she managed for herself when she got into the town. She renewed her old acquaintance with Engstrand, the carpenter, gave him to understand, I've no doubt, how much money she had got, and told him some tale about a foreigner who put in here with a yacht that summer. So she and Engstrand got married in hot haste. Why, you married them yourself, GHOSTS. 153 Manders. But then how to account for ? I recollect distinctly Engstrand coming to give notice of the marriage, He was broken down with contrition, and blamed himself so bitterly for the misbehaviour he and his sweetheart had been guilty of. Mrs. Alving. Yes ; of course he had to take the blame upon himself. Manders. But such a piece of duplicity on his part ! And towards me, too ! I certainly never could have be- lieved it of Jacob Engstrand. Ah ! I shall not fail to give him a serious talking to ; he may be sure of that. And then the immorality of such a connection ! For money ! What was the sum the girl had given her ? Mrs. Alving. It was three hundred dollars. Manders. There ! think of that ! for a miserable three hundred dollars to go and marry a fallen woman ! Mrs. Alving. Then what have you to say of me ? I went and married a fallen man. Manders. But good heavens ! what are you talking about ? A fallen man ? Mrs. Alving. Do you think Alving was any purer when I went with him to the altar than Johanna was when Eng- strand married her ? Manders. Well, but there's a world of difference between the two cases Mrs. Alving. Not so much difference after all, except in the price a wretched three hundred dollars and a whole fortune. Manders. How can you compare the two cases ? You had taken counsel with your own heart and with your friends. Mrs. Alving \without looking at hini\. I thought you understood where what you call my heart had strayed to at the time, 154 GHOSTS. Manders [distantly]. Had I understood anything of the kind, I should not have continued a daily guest in your husband's house. Mrs. Alving. Well, the fact remains that with myself I took no counsel whatever. Manders. Well, then, with your nearest relatives as your duty bade you with your mother and both your aunts. Mrs. Alving. Yes, that is true. Those three cast up the account for me. Oh ! it is marvellous how clearly they made out that it would be downright madness to refuse such an offer. If mother could only see me now and know what all that grandeur has come to. Manders. Nobody can be held responsible for the result. This, at least, remains clear: your marriage was in accordance with law and order. Mrs. Alving [at the window], Oh ! that perpetual law and order ! I often think it is that which does all the mischief here in the world. Manders. Mrs. Alving, that is a sinful way of talking. Mrs. Alving. Well, I can't help it; I can endure all this constraint and cowardice no longer. It is too much for me. I must work my way out to freedom. Manders. What do you mean by that ? Mrs. Alving [drumming on the window-sill\. I ought never to have concealed the facts of Alving's life. But at that time I dared do nothing else even for my own sake. I was such a coward. Manders. A coward ? Mrs. Alving. If people had got to know anything, they would have said "Poor man! with a runaway wife, no wonder he kicks over the traces." Manders. Such remarks might have been made with a certain show of right. GHOSTS. 155 Mrs. Alving \looking steadily at hini\. If I were what I ought to be, I should go to Oswald and say, " Listen, my boy ; your father was self-indulgent and vicious " Manders. Merciful heavens ! Mrs. Alving. and then I should tell him all I have told you every word of it. Manders. The idea is shocking, Mrs. Alving. Mrs. Alving. Yes ; I know that. I know that very well. I am myself shocked at it. [Goes away from the window^ I am such a coward. Manders. You call it " cowardice " to do your plain duty ? Have you forgotten that a son should love and honour his father and mother ? Mrs. Alving. Don't let us talk in such general terms. Let us ask : Should Oswald love and honour Chamberlain Alving ? Manders. Is there no voice in your mother's heart that forbids you to destroy your son's ideals ? Mrs. Alving. But what about the truth ? Manders. But what about the ideals ? Mrs. Alving. Oh ! Ideals ! Ideals ! If I only weren't such a coward as I am ! Manders. Do not despise ideals, Mrs. Alving ; they will avenge themselves cruelly, and especially in Oswald's case. Oswald, unfortunately, seems to have few enough ideals as it is. But so much I can see : his father stands before him as an ideal. Mrs. Alving. You are right there. Manders. And this conception of his father you have yourself implanted and fostered in his mind by your letters. Mrs. Alving. Yes; in my superstitious awe for Duty and Decency I lied to my boy, year after year. Oh ! what a coward, what a coward I have been ! 156 GHOSTS. Manders. You have established a happy illusion in your son's heart, Mrs. Alving, and assuredly you ought not to undervalue it. Mrs. Alving. Hm ; who knows whether it is so happy after all ? But, at any rate, I won't have any goings-on with Regina. He shall not go and ruin the poor girl. Manders. No ; good God ! that would be dreadful ! Mrs. Alving. If I knew he was in earnest, and that it would be for his happiness Manders. What ? What then ? Mrs. Alving. But it could not be ; for I'm sorry to say Regina is not a girl to make him happy. Manders. Well, what then ? What do you mean ? Mrs. Alving. If I were not such a pitiful coward I would say to him, "Marry her, or make what arrangement you please, only let us have no deception." Manders. But, good heavens ! would you let them marry t anything so dreadful ! so unheard of ! Mrs. Alving. Do you really mean " unheard of? " Frankly, Pastor Manders, don't you suppose that through out the country there are plenty of married couples as closely akin as they ? Manders. I don't in the least understand you. Mrs. Alving. Oh yes, indeed you do. Manders. Ah, you are thinking of the possibility that Yes ! alas ! family life is certainly not always so pure as it ought to be. But in such a case as you point to one can never know at least with any certainty. Here, on the other hand that you, a mother, can think of letting your son ! Mrs. Alving. But I can't I would not for anything in the world ; that is precisely what I am saying. Manders. No, because you are a " coward," as you put it. GHOSTS. 157 But if you were not a "coward " then ? Good God ! a connection so shocking ! Mrs. Alving. So far as that goes, they say we are all sprung from connections of that sort. And who is it arranged the world so, Pastor Manders ? Manders. Questions of that sort I must decline to discuss with you, Mrs. Alving ; you are far from being in the right frame of mind for them. But that you dare to call your scruples "cowardly." Mrs. Alving. Let me tell you what I mean. I am timid and half-hearted because I cannot get rid of the Ghosts that haunt me. Manders. What do you say haunts you ? Mrs. Alving. Ghosts ! When I heard Regina and Oswald in there, it was as though I saw Ghosts before me. But I almost think we are all of us Ghosts, Pastor Manders. It is not only what we have inherited from our father and mother that " walks " in us. It is all sorts of dead ideas, and lifeless old beliefs, and so forth. They have no vitality, but they cling to us all the same, and we can't get rid of them. Whenever I take up a newspaper I seem to see Ghosts gliding between the lines. There must be Ghosts all the country over, as thick as the sand of the sea. And then we are, one and all, so pitifully afraid of the light. Manders. Ah ! here we have the fruits of your reading ! And pretty fruits they are, upon my word ! Oh ! those horrible, revolutionary, free-thinking books ! Mrs. Alving. You are mistaken, my dear Pastor. It was you yourself who set me thinking ; and I thank you for it with all my heart. Manders. I ? Mrs. Alving. Yes. When you forced me under the yoke you called Duty and Obligation ; when you praised as right 158 GffOSTS. and proper what my whole soul rebelled against, as against something loathsome. It was then that I began to look into the seams of your doctrine. I only wished to pick at a single knot ; but when I had got that undone, the whole thing ravelled out. And then I understood that it was all machine-sewn. Manders \softly, with emotion]. And was that the upshot of my life's hardest battle ? Mrs. Alving. Call it, rather, your most pitiful defeat. Manders. It was my greatest victory, Helen the victory over myself. Mrs. Alving. It was a crime against us both. Manders. When you went astray, and came to me crying, " Here I am ; take me ! " I commanded you, saying " Woman, go home to your lawful husband." Was that a crime ? Mrs. Alving. Yes, I think so. Manders. We two do not understand each other. Mrs. Alving. Not now, at any rate. Manders. Never never in my most secret thoughts have I regarded you otherwise than as another's wife. Mrs. Alving. Oh ! indeed ? Manders. Helen ! Mrs. Alving. People so easily forget their past selves. Manders. I do not. I am what I always was. Mrs. Alving [changing the subjecf\. Well, well, well ; don't let us talk of old times any longer. You are now over head and ears in Commissions and Boards of Direction, and I am fighting my fight with Ghosts both within me and without. Manders. Those without I shall help you to lay. After all the shocking things I have heard from you to-day, I cannot in conscience permit an unprotected girl to remain in your house. GHOSTS. 159 Mrs. Alving. Don't you think it would be the best plan to get her provided for ? I mean, by a good marriage. Manders. No doubt. I think it would be desirable for her in every respect. Regina is just now at the age when . Of course I don't know much about these things, but Mrs. Alving. Regina matured very early. Manders. Yes ! did she not ? I have an impression that she was remarkably well developed, physically, when I prepared her for confirmation. But, in the meantime, she must go home, under her father's eye. Ah ! but Engstrand is not That he that he could so hide the truth from me 1 [A knock at the door into the hall.] Mrs. Airing. Who can that be ? Come in ! Engstrand [in his Sunday clothes, in the doorway\. I beg your pardon humbly, but Manders. Ah ! Hm Mrs. Alving. Is that you, Engstrand ? Engstrand. there was none of the servants about, so I took the great liberty of just knocking. Mrs. Alving. Oh ! very well. Come in. Is there anything you want to speak to me about ? Engstrand [comes in\. No ; I'm greatly obliged to you ; it was with his Reverence I wanted to have a word or two. Manders [walking up and down the room\ Hm indeed ! You want to speak to me, do you ? Engstrand. Yes, I should like so much to Manders [stops in front of hini\ Well. May I ask what you want ? Engstrand. Well, it was just this, your Reverence ; we've been paid off down yonder my grateful thanks to you, 160 GHOSTS. ma'am. And now everything's finished, I've been thinking it would be but right and proper if we, that have been working so honestly together all this time well, I was thinking we ought to end up with a little prayer-meeting to-night. Manders. A prayer-meeting ? Down at the Orphanage ? Engstrand. Oh, if your Reverence doesn't think it proper Manders. Oh yes ! I do ; but Hm Engstrand. I've been in the habit of offering up a little prayer in the evenings, myself. Mrs. Alving. Have you ? Engstrand. Yes, every now and then just a little exercise, you might call it. But I am a poor, common man, and have little enough gift, God help me ! and so I thought, as the Reverend Mr. Manders happened to be here, I'd Manders. Well, you see, Engstrand, I must first ask you a question. Are you in the right frame of mind for such a meeting ? Do you feel your conscience clear and at ease ? Engstrand. Oh ! God help us ! your Reverence, we'd better not talk about conscience. Manders. Yes, that's just what we must talk about. What have you to answer ? Engstrand. Why one's conscience it can be bad enough now and then. Manders. Ah, you admit that.' Then will you make a clean breast of it, and tell the truth about Regina ? Mrs. Alving [quickly]. Mr. Manders ! Manders [reassuringly]. Just let me Engstrand. About Regina ! Lord ! how you frighten me ! \Looks at Mrs. Alving^ There's nothing wrong about Regina, is there ? Manders. We will hope not. But I mean, what is the GHOSTS. 161 truth about you and Regina? You pass for her father, eh? Engstrand [uncertain]. Well hm your Reverence knows all about me and poor Johanna. Manders. Come, no more prevarication ! Your wife told Mrs. Alving the whole story before quitting her service. Engstrand. Well, then, may ! Now, did she really ? Manders. So you are found out, Engstrand. Engstrand. And she swore and took her Bible oath Manders. Did she take her Bible oath ? Engstrand. No; she only swore; but she did it so earnestly. Manders. And you have hidden the truth from me all these years? Hidden it from me! from me, who have trusted you without reserve, in everything. Engstrand. Well, I can't deny it Manders. Have I deserved this of you, Engstrand? Haven't I always been ready to help you in word and deed, so far as it stood in my power ? Answer me. Have I not ? Engstrand. It would have been a poor look-out for me many a time but for the Reverend Mr. Manders. Manders. And you reward me thus ! You cause me to enter falsehoods in the Church Register, and you withhold from me, year after year, the explanations you owed alike to me and to truth. Your conduct has been wholly inexcus- able, Engstrand ; and from this time forward all is over between us. Engstrand \with a sigh]. Yes ! I suppose it must be. Manders. How can you possibly justify yourself? Engstrand. How could I think that she had made bad worse by talking about it ? Will your Reverence just fancy yourself in the same trouble as poor Johanna Manders. I ! 506 i6a GHOSTS. Engstrand. Lord bless you ! I don't mean so exactly the same. But I mean, if your Reverence had anything to be ashamed of in the eyes of the world, as the saying is. We men oughtn't to judge a poor woman too hardly, your Reverence. Manders. I am not doing so, It is you I am reproaching. , Engstrand. Might I make so bold as to ask your Reverence a bit of a question ? Manders. Yes, ask away. Engstrand. Isn't it right and proper for a man to raise up the fallen ? Manders, Most certainly it is. Engstrand. And isn't a man bound to keep his sacred word? Manders. Why ! of course he is ; but Engstrand. When Johanna had got into trouble through that Englishman or it might have been an American or a Russian, as they call them well, you see, she came down into the town. Poor thing! she'd sent me about my business once or twice before : for she couldn't bear the sight or anything but what was handsome ; and I'd got this damaged leg. Your Reverence recollects how I ventured up into a dancing-saloon, where seafaring people carried on with drink and devilry, as the saying goes. And then, when I was for giving them a bit of an admonition to lead a new life Mrs. Alving \at the window]. Hm Manders. I know all about that, Engstrand; these ruffians threw you downstairs. You have told me of the affair already. Engstrand. I am not puffed up about it, your Reverence. But what I wanted to tell was, that then she came and confessed all to me, with weeping and gnashing of GHOSTS. 163 teeth, I can tell your Reverence I was sore at heart to hear it. Manders. Were you indeed, Engstrand? Well, go on. Engstrand. So I said to her, "The American, he's sailing about on the boundless sea. And as for you, Johanna," said I, "you've committed a grievous sin and you're a fallen creature. But Jacob Engstrand," said I, "he's got two good legs to stand upon, he has ." You know, your Reverence, I was speaking figuratively-like. Manders. I understand quite well. Go on. Engstrand. Well, that was how I raised her up and made an honest woman of her, so that folks shouldn't get to know how she'd gone astray with foreigners. Manders. All that was very good for you. Only I can't approve of your stooping to take money Engstrand. Money ? I ? Not a farthing ! Manders [inquiringly to Mrs. AZving~\. But Engstrand. Oh ! wait a minute ; now I recollect. Johanna had a trifle of money. But I would have nothing to do with it. " No," said I, " thafs mammon ; that's the wages of sin. This dirty gold or notes, or whatever it was we'll just fling that back to the American," said I. But he was gone and away, over the stormy sea, your Reverence. Manders. Was he really, my good fellow ? Engstrand. Ay, Sir. So Johanna and I, we agreed that the money should go to the child's education ; and so it did, and I can give account for every blessed farthing of it. Manders. Why ! This alters the case considerably. Engstrand. That's just how it stands, your Reverence. And I make so bold as to say I've been an honest father to Regina, so far as my poor strength went ; for I'm but a poor creature, worse luck ! 164 GHOSTS. Manders. Well, well, my good fellow Engstrand. But I may make bold to say that I have brought up the child, and lived kindly with poor Johanna, and ruled over my own house, as the Scripture has it. But I could never think of going up to your Reverence and puffing myself up and boasting because I, too, had done some good in the world. No, sir; when anything of that sort happens to Jacob Engstrand, he holds his tongue about it. It doesn't happen so very often, I daresay. And when I do come to see your Reverence, I find a mortal deal to say about what's wicked and weak. For I do say as I was saying just now one's conscience isn't always as clean as it might be. Manders. Give me your hand, Jacob Engstrand. Engstrand. Oh, Lord ! your Reverence Manders. No getting out of it \wrings his hand\ There we are ! Engstrand. And if I might humbly beg your Reverence's pardon Manders. You? On the contrary, it is I who ought to beg your pardon Engstrand. Lord, no, sir ! Manders. Yes, certainly. And I do it with all my heart. Forgive me for misunderstanding you. And I wish I could give you some proof of my hearty regret, and of my good- will towards you Engstrand. Would your Reverence ? Manders. With the greatest pleasure. Engstrand. Well, then, there's the very opportunity now. With the money I've saved here, I was thinking I might found a Sailors' Home down in the town. Mrs. Alving. You want to ? Engstrand. Yes ; it, too, might be a sort of Orphanage, GHOSTS. 165 in a manner of speaking. There are many temptations for sea-faring folk ashore. But in this little house of mine, a man might feel as under a father's eye, I was thinking. Manders. What do you say to this, Mrs. Alving ? Engstrand. It isn't much I've got to start with, the Lord help me ! But if I could only find a helping hand, why Manders. Yes, yes ; we'll look into the matter. I entirely approve of your plan. But now, go before me and make everything ready, and get the candles lighted, so as to give the place an air of festivity. And then we will pass an edifying hour together, my good fellow; for now I quite believe you are in the right frame of mind. Engstrand. Yes, I trust I am. And so I'll say good-bye, Ma'am, and thank you kindly; and take good care of Regina for me \wipes a tear from his eye] poor Johanna's child ; hm, that's an odd thing, now ; but it's just as if she'd grown into the very core of my heart. It is indeed. [He bows and goes out through the hall.'} Manders. Well, what do you say about that man now, Mrs. Alving? That threw a totally different light on matters, didn't it ? Mrs. Alving. Yes, it certainly did. Manders. It only shows you how excessively careful one must he in judging one's fellow-creatures. But it's a great joy to ascertain that one has been mistaken. Don't you think so ? Mrs. Alving. I think that you are, and will remain, a great baby, Manders. Manders. I ? Mrs, Alving \laying both hands upon his shoulder]. And I say that I've half a mind to fall on your neck, and kiss you. 166 GHOSTS. Manders [stepping hastily back]. No, no ; God bless us ! What an idea ! Mrs. Alving [with a smile]. Oh ! you need not be afraid of me. Manders [by the table\ You have sometimes such an exaggerated way of expressing yourself. Now, I'll just collect all the documents, and put them in my bag. [He does so.] There, now. And now, good-bye for the present. Keep your eyes open when Oswald comes back. I shall look in again later. [He takes his hat and goes out through the hall door.] [Mrs. Alving heaves a sigh, looks for a moment out of the window ', sets the room in order a little, and is about to go into the dining-room, but stops at the door with a half-surprised cry]. Oswald, are you still at table ? Oswald [in the dining-room]. I am only finishing my cigar. Mrs. Alving. I thought you had gone a little walk. Oswald. In such weather as this ? [A glass clinks. MRS. ALVING leaves the door open, and sits down with her knitting on the sofa by the window >.] Wasn't that Pastor Manders who went away just now ? Mrs. Alving. Yes ; he went down to the Orphanage. Oswald. Hm. [The glass and decanter clink again.] Mrs. Alving [with a troubled glance]. Dear Oswald, you should take care of that liqueur. It is strong. Oswald. It keeps out the damp. Mrs. Alving. Wouldn't you rather come in to me ? Oswald. I mayn't smoke in there. Mrs. Alving. You know quite well that you may smoke cigars. Oswald. Oh ! all right then ; I'll come in. Just a tiny GHOSTS. 167 drop more first ! There ! \He comes into the room with his cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short silencel\ Where's Manders gone to ? Mrs. Alving. I've just told you ; he went down to the Orphanage. Oswald. Oh, ah ; so you did. Mrs. Alving. You shouldn't sit so long at the table after dinner, Oswald. Oswald {holding his cigar behind him\. But I find it so pleasant, Mother. [Strokes and pets her."\ Just think what it is for me to come home and sit at Mother's own table, in Mother's room, and eat Mother's delicious dinner. Mrs. Alving. My dear, dear boy ! Oswald \somewhat impatiently walks about and smokes']. And what else can I do with myself here ? I can't set to work at anything. Mrs. Alving. Why can't you ? Oswald. In such weather as this ? Without a single ray of sunlight the whole day ? [ Walks up the room.'] Oh ! not to be able to work ! Mrs. Alving. Perhaps it was not quite wise of you to come home ? Oswald. Oh, yes, Mother ; I had to. Mrs. Alving. Why ? I would ten times rather forego the joy of having you here than Oswald (stops beside the table}. Now just tell me, Mother ; does it really make you so very happy to have me home again ? Mrs. Alving. Does it make me happy ! Oswald [crumpling up a newspaper]. I should have thought it must be pretty much the same to you whether I was in existence or not. Mrs. Alving. Have you the heart to say that to your mother, Oswald? 1 68 GHOSTS. Oswald. But you've got on very well without me all this time. Mrs. Alving. Yes ; I've got on without you. That is true. [A silence. Twilight gradually falls. OSWALD walks to and fro across the room. He has laid his cigar down.} Oswald [stops beside MRS. ALVING]. Mother, may I sit down on the sofa by you ? Mrs. Alving {makes room for him]. Yes; do, my dear boy. Oswald [sits down}. Now I am going to tell you some- thing, Mother. Mrs. Alving [anxiously]. Well ? Oswald [looks fixedly before him}. For I can't go on hiding it any longer. Mrs. Alving. Hiding what ? What is it ? Oswald [as before\ I could never bring myself to write to you about it ; and since I've come home Mrs. Alving [seizes him by the arm}. Oswald, what is the matter ? Oswald [as before]. Both yesterday and to-day I have tried to put the thoughts away from me to get free from them ; but it won't do. Mrs. Alving [rising}. Now you must speak out, Oswald. Oswald [draws hei down to the sofa again}. Sit still ; and then I will try and tell you. I complained of fatigue after my journey Mrs. Alving. Well, what then ? Oswald. But it isn't that that's the matter with me; it isn't any ordinary fatigue. . . . Mrs. Alving [fries to jump up~\. You're not ill, Oswald? Oswald [draws her down again}. Do sit still, mother. Only take it quietly. I am not downright ill, either ; not what is commonly called "ill." \Clasps his hands above GHOSTS. 169 his head.} Mother, my mind is broken down ruined I shall never be able to work again. [ With his hands before his face, he buries his head in her lap, and breaks into bitter Mrs. Alving [white and trembling~\. Oswald ! Look at me I No, no ; it isn't true. Oswald [looks up with despair in his eyes]. Never be able to work again. Never, never 1 It will be like living death 1 Mother, can you imagine anything so horrible ? Mrs. Alving. My poor boy ! How has this horrible thing come over you ? Oswald \sits upright]. That's just what I can't possibly grasp or understand. I have never led an unsteady life never, in any respect. You must not believe that of me, Mother. I have never done that. Mrs. Alving. I'm sure you haven't, Oswald. Oswald. And yet this has come over me just the same this awful misfortune ! Mrs. Alving. Oh ! but it will pass away, my dear, blessed boy. It is nothing but over-exertion. Trust me, I am right. Oswald \sadly\. I thought so too at first ', but it isn't so. Mrs. Alving. Tell me the whole story from beginning to end. Oswald. Well, I will. Mrs. Alving. When did you first notice it ? Oswald. It was directly after I had been home last time, and had got back to Paris again. I began to feel the most violent pains in my head chiefly in the back of my head, I thought. It was as though a tight iron ring was being screwed round my neck and upwards. Mrs. Alving. Well, and then ? 170 GHOSTS, Oswald. At first I thought it was nothing but the ordinary headache I had been so plagued with when I was growing up. . . . Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes. . . . Oswald. But it was not that. I soon found that out. I could no longer work. I wanted to begin upon a big new picture, but it was as though my powers failed me ; all my strength was crippled ; I could not form any definite images ; it all swam before me whirling round and round. Oh ! it was an awful state 1 At last I sent for a doctor, and from him I got to know the truth. Mrs. Alving. How do you mean ? Oswald. He was one of the first doctors in Paris. I told him my symptoms, and then he set to work asking me a heap of questions which I thought had nothing to do with the matter. I couldn't imagine what the man was after. . . . Mrs. Alving. Well. Oswald. At last he said: "You have been worm-eaten from your birth." He used that very word vermoulu. Mrs. Alving {breathlessly}. What did he mean by that? Oswald. I didn't understand either, and begged of him to give me a clearer explanation. And then the old cynic said [clenching his fist\ Oh ! Mrs. Alving. What did he say ? Oswald. He said, "The fathers' sins are visited upon the children." Mrs. Alving [rising slowly}. The fathers' sins . . . . ! Oswald. I very nearly struck him in the face . . . Mrs. Alving [walks away across the fioor\. The fathers' sins ! Oswald [smiles sadly}. Yes ; what do you think of that ? O " course I assured him that such a thing was out of the GHOSTS. 171 question. But do you think he gave in ? No, he stuck to it ; and it was only when I produced your letters and trans- lated to him the passages relating to father Mrs. Alving. But then ? Oswald. Then he was of course bound to admit that he was on the wrong track, and so I got to know the truth the incomprehensible truth ! I ought to have held aloof from my bright and happy student-life among my fellows. It had been too much for my strength. So I had brought it upon myself. Mrs. Alving. Oswald ! Oh, no ! don't believe it. Oswald. No other explanation was possible, he said. That is the awful part of it. Incurably ruined for my whole life by my own heedlessness ! All that I meant to have done in the world, ... I never dare think of again. I am not able to think of it. Oh ! if I could but live over again, and undo all I have done ! \He buries his face in the sofa. MRS. ALVING wrings her hands and walks, in silent struggle, backwards and forwards. OSWALD, after a while, looks up and remains resting upon his elbow.\ If it had only been something inherited, something one wasn't responsible for ! But this ! To have thrown away so shamefully, thoughtlessly, recklessly, one's own happiness, one's own health, everything in the world one's future, one's very life ! Mrs. Alving. No, no, my dear, darling boy ! It is impos- sible. \_Bends over him.~\ Things are not so desperate as you think. Oswald. Oh ! you don't know [Springs upJ\ And then, Mother, to cause you all this sorrow ! Many a time have I almost wished and hoped that at bottom you did not care so very much about me. Mrs. Alving. I, Oswald ? my only boy ! You are all I have in the world ! The only thing I care about ! 172 GHOSTS. Oswald [seizes both her hands and kisses them\ Yes, Mother dear, I see it well enough. When I am at home, I see it, of course ; and that is the hardest part for me. But now you know all about it, and now we won't talk any more about it to-day. I daren't think about it for long together. [Goes up the room.] Get me something to drink, Mother. Mrs. Alving. Drink ? What do you want to drink now ? Oswald. Oh ! anything you like. You've got some cold punch in the house. Mrs. Alving. Yes, but my dear Oswald Oswald. Don't refuse me, Mother. Do be nice, now ! I must have something to wash down all these gnawing thoughts. [Goes into the conservatory.] And then it is so dark here ! [Mrs. Alving pulls a bell-rope on her right] And this ceaseless rain ! It may go on week after week for months together. Never to get a glimpse of the sun ! I can't recollect ever to have seen the sun shine all the times I've been at home. Mrs. Alving. Oswald, you are thinking of going away from me. Oswald [drawing a deep breath]. I am not thinking of anything. I carft think of anything. [In a low voiced I let thinking alone. Regina [from the dining-room] Did you ring, Ma'am ? Mrs. Alving. Yes ; let us have the lamp in. Regina. I will, directly. It is ready lighted. [Goes out.] Mrs. Alving [goes across to Oswald]. Oswald, be frank with me. Oswald. Well, so I am, Mother. [Goes to the table] I think I have told you enough. [REGINA brings the lamp and sets it upon the table] GHOSTS. 173 Mrs. Alving. Regina, you might fetch us half a bottle of champagne. Regina. Very well, ma'am. [Goes out.] Oswald [puts his arm round Mrs. Alving's neck]. That's just what I wanted. I knew Mother wouldn't let her boy be thirsty. Mrs. Alving. My own, poor, darling Oswald, how could I deny you anything now ? Oswald [eagerly]. Is that true, Mother ? Do you moan it ? Mrs. Alving. How ? What ? Oswald. That you couldn't deny me anything. Mrs. Alving. My dear Oswald Oswald. Hush ! Regina [brings a tray with a half-bottle of champagne and two glasses, which she sets on the table]. Shall I open it ? Oswald. No, thanks. I'll do it myself. [REGINA walks out again] Mrs. Alving [sits down by the table]. What was it you meant, I mustn't deny you ? Oswald [busy opening the bottle]. First let's have a glass two. [The cork pops; he pours wine into one glass, and is about to pour it into the other.] Mrs. Alving [holding her hand over it]. Thanks; not for me. Oswald. Oh ! won't you ? Then I will ! [He empties the glass, Jills, and empties it again j then he sits down by the table] Mrs. Alving [in expectation]. Well ? Oswald [without looking at her]. Tell me I thought you and Pastor Manders looked so odd well, so awfully quiet at the dinner-table to-day. Mrs. Alving. Did you notice it ? 174 GHOSTS. Oswald. Yes. Hm [After a short silence.'] Tell me, what do you think of Regina ? Mrs. Alving. What I think? Oswald. Yes ; isn't she splendid ? Mrs. Alving. My dear Oswald, you don't know her so well as I do. Oswald. Well? Mrs. Alving. Regina, unfortunately, was allowed to stay at home too long. I ought to have taken her earlier into my house. Oswald. Yes, but isn't she splendid to look at, Mother ? [He fills his glass.] Mrs. Alving. Regina has many serious faults. Oswald. Oh, I daresay. What does it matter ? [He drinks again.'] Mrs. Alving. But I'm fond of her, nevertheless, and I am responsible for her. I wouldn't have any harm happen to her for all the world. Oswald [springs up]. Mother! Regina is my only salvation. Mrs. Alving [rising]. What do you mean by that ? Oswald. I can't go on bearing all this misery of mind alone. Mrs. Alving. Have you not got your mother to share it with you? Oswald. Yes ; that's what I thought ; and so I came home to you. But that won't do. I see it won't do. I can't endure my life here. Mrs. Alving. Oswald ! Oswald. I must live in a different way, Mother. That's why I must go away from you. I won't have you looking on at it. GHOSTS. 175 Mrs. Alving. My unhappy boy ! But, Oswald, while you are so ill as at present Oswald. If it were only the illness, I should stay with you, Mother, you may be sure ; for you are the best friend I have in the world. Mrs, Alving. Yes, indeed I am, Oswald ; am I not ? Oswald [wanders restlessly about] But it is all the torment, the remorse ; and besides that, the great, deadly fear. Oh ! that awful fear ! Mrs. Alving [walking after him~\. Fear; what fear? What do you mean ? Oswald. Oh ! you mustn't ask me any more. I don't know. I can't describe it to you. [MRS. ALVING goes over to the right and fulls the bell. ] What is it you want ? Mrs. Alving. I want my boy to be happy that is what I want. He shall not go on racking his brains. \To REGINA, who comes in the door .] More champagne a whole bottle. [REGINA goes.] Oswald. Mother ! Mrs. Alving. Do you think we don't know how to live out here in the country ? Oswald. Isn't she splendid to look at ? How beautifully she's built. And so healthy to the core ! Mrs. Alving [sits down by the table]. Sit down, Oswald ; let us talk quietly together. Oswald [sits down]. I daresay you don't know, Mother, that I owe Regina some reparation. Mrs. Alving. You ? Oswald. For a bit of thoughtlessness, or whatever you like to call it very innocent, anyhow. When I was home last time Mrs. Alving. Well? Oswald. She used so often to ask me about Paris, and I 1 76 GHOSTS. used to tell her one thing and another. Then I recollect I happened to say to her one day, " Wouldn't you like to come down there yourself ? " Mrs. Alving. Well ? Oswald. I saw that she blushed deeply, and then she said, " Yes, I should like it of all things." " Ah ! well," I replied, " it might perhaps be managed " or something like that. Mrs. Alving. And then ? Oswald. Of course I had forgotten the whole thing ; but the day before yesterday I happened to ask her whether she was glad I was to stay at home so long Mrs. Alving. Yes ? Oswald. And then she looked so strangely at me and asked, " But what is to become of my trip to Paris ? " Mrs. Alving. Her trip ! Oswald. And so I got out of her that she had taken the thing seriously ; that she had been thinking of me the whole time ; and had set at work to learn French Mrs. Alving. So that was why she did it ! Oswald. Mother ! when I saw that fresh, lovely, splendid girl standing there before me till then I had hardly noticed her but when she stood there as though with open arms ready to receive me Mrs. Alving. Oswald ! Oswald. then it flashed upon me that my salvation was in her ; for I saw that she was full of the joy of life.* Mrs. Alving \_starts\ The joy of life ? Can there be salvation in that ? Regina \from the dining-room with a bottle of champagne]. I'm sorry to have been so long, but I had to go to the cellar. \Puts the bottle on the table^\ * Livsglsede " la joie de vivre." GXOSTS. 177 Oswald. And now fetch another glass. Regina [looks at him in surprise]. There is Mrs. Airing's glass, Mr. Alving. Oswald. Yes, but fetch one for yourself, Regina. [REGINA starts and gives a lightning-like side-glance at MRS. ALVING.] Why do you wait ? Regina [softly and hesitatingly]. Is it Mrs. Alving's wish ? Mrs. Alving. Fetch the glass, Regina. [REGiNA^w-y out into the dining-rooin^\ Oswald [folloivs her with his eyes]. Have you noticed how she walks ? so firmly and lightly ! Mrs. Alving. It can never be, Oswald. Oswald. It's a settled thing. Can't you see that. It is no use to say anything against it. [REGINA enters with an empty glass, which she keeps in her hand.] Sit down, Regina. [REGINA looks enquiringly at MRS. ALVING.] Mrs. Alving. Sit down. [REGINA sits down on a chair by the dining-room door, still holding the empty glass in her hand."] Oswald, what were you saying about the joy of life? Oswald. Ah ! the joy of life, Mother; that's a thing you don't know much about in these parts. I have never felt it here. Mrs. Alving. Not when you are with me ? Oswald. Not when I'm at home. But you don't under- stand that. Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes ; I think I almost understand it now. Oswald. And then, too, the joy of work. At bottom, it's the same thing. But that too you know nothing about. Mrs. Alving. Perhaps you are right, Oswald; let me hear more about it. Oswald. Well, I only mean that here people are brought 57 178 GHOSTS. up to believe that work is a curse and a punishment for sin, and that life is something miserable, something we had better be done with, the sooner the better. Mrs. Alving. " A vale of tears," yes ; and we act up to our professions and make it one. Oswald. But in the great world people won't hear of such things. There, nobody really believes such doctrines any longer. There, you feel it bliss and ecstasy merely to draw the breath of life. Mother, have you noticed that everything I have painted has turned upon the joy of life ? always, always upon the joy of life? light and sunshine and glorious air and faces radiant with happiness. That is why I am afraid of remaining at home with you. Mrs. Alving. Afraid ? What are you afraid of here, with me. Oswald. I am afraid that all that is germinating in me would develop into ugliness. Mrs. Alving [looks steadily at him]. Do you think that would be the way of it ? Oswald. I know it. You may live the same life here as there, and yet it won't be the same life. Mrs. Alving [who has been listening eagerly, rises, her eyes big with thoughts, and says:] Now I see the con- nection. Oswald. What is it you see ? Mrs. Alving. I see it now for the first time. And now I can speak. Oswald [rising']. Mother, I don't understand you. Regina \who has also risen]. Perhaps I ought to go ? Mrs. Alving. No. Stay here. Now I can speak. Now, my boy, you shall know the whole truth. And then you can choose. Oswald ! Regina ! Oswald. Hush ! Here's Manders. GHOSTS. 179 Manders [comes in by the hall door]. There ! We've had a most edifying time down there. Oswald. So have we. Manders. We must stand by Engstrand and his Sailors' Home. Regina must go to him and help him Regina. No, thank you, Sir. Manders [noticing her for the first time]. What ? You here ? and with a glass in your hand ! Regina [hastily putting the glass down\. Pardon! Oswald. Regina is going with me, Mr. Manders. Manders. Going with you ! Oswald. Yes ; as my wife if she wishes it. Manders. But, good God ! Regina. It's none of my doing, Sir. Oswald. Or she will stay here, if I stay. Regina [involuntarily]. Here ! Manders. I am thunderstruck at your conduct, Mrs. Alving. Mrs. Alving. They will do neither one thing nor the other ; for now I can speak out plainly. Manders. You surely won't do that. No, no, no. Mrs. Alving. Yes. I can speak and I will. And no ideal shall suffer after all. Oswald. Mother ! What on earth are you hiding from me ? Regina [listening]. Oh ! Ma'am ! listen ! Don't you hear shouts outside. [She goes into the conservatory and looks out.'] Oswald [at the window on the left]. What's going on? Where does that light come from ? Regina [cries out]. The Orphanage is on fire ! Mrs. Alving [rushing to the window]. On fire ? Manders. On fire ! Impossible ! I have just come from there. i8o GHOSTS. Oswald. Where's my hat ? Oh, never mind it Father's Orphanage ! [ffe rushes out through the garden door^\ Mrs. Alving. My shawl, Regina ! It is blazing. Manders. Terrible ! Mrs. Alving, it is a judgment upon this abode of sin. Mrs. Alving. Yes, of course. Come, Regina. [She and REGINA hasten out through the hall.'] Manders [folds his hands together]. And uninsured, too ! [He goes out the same way.] ACT III. [The room as before. All the doors stand open. The lamp is still burning on the table. It is dark out of doors; there is only a faint glow from the conflagration in the background to the left. MRS. ALVING, with a shawl over her head, stands in the conservatory and looks out. REGINA, also with a shawl on, stands a little behind her.~\ Mrs. Alving. All burnt ! burnt to the ground ! Regina. The basement is still burning. Mrs. Alving. How is it Oswald doesn't come home? There's nothing to be saved. Regina. Would you like me to take down his hat to him? Mrs. Alving. Hasn't he even got his hat on ? Regina [pointing to the half]. No ; there it hangs. Mrs. Alving. Let it be. H_ ~mst come up now. I will go and look for him myself. [She goes out through the garden doorJ] Manders [comes in from the half]. Isn't Mrs. Alving here? G HOSTS. i8r Regina. She's just gone down the garden. Manders. This is the most terrible night I ever lived through. Regina. Yes ; isn't it a dreadful misfortune, sir ? Manders. Oh ! don't talk about it ! I can hardly bear to think of it. Regina. How can it have happened ? Manders. Don't ask me, Regina ! How should / know ? Do you, too ? Isn't it enough that your father ? Regina. What about him ? Manders. Oh ! he has driven me clean out of my mind Engstrand \comes through the hall\. Your Reverence ! Manders [turns round in terror]. Are you after me here, too? Engstrand. Yes ; Lord, strike me dead, but I must It's an awfully ugly business, your Reverence. Manders [walks to andfro\. Alas ! alas ! Regina. What is the matter ? Engstrand. Why, it all came of that prayer-meeting, you see. {Softly^ The bird's limed, my girl. [Aloud.] And to think that it's my fault that it's his Reverence's fault ! Manders. But I assure you, Engstrand Engstrand. But there wasn't another soul except your Reverence that ever touched the candles down there. Manders [stops]. Ah ! so you declare. But I certainly can't recollect that I ever had a candle in my hand. Engstrand. And I saw as clear as daylight how your Reverence took the light and snuffed it with your fingers, and threw away the snuff among the shavings. Manders. And you stood and looked on ? Engstrand. Yes. I saw it as plain as a pike-staff. 1 82 GHOSTS. Manders. It's quite beyond my comprehension. Besides, it's never been my habit to snuff candles with my fingers. Engstrand. And very bad it looked, that it did ! But is there so much harm done after all, your Reverence ? Manders [walks restlessly to andfro\. Oh ! don't ask me. Engstrand [walks with him]. And your Reverence hadn't insured it, neither? Manders [continuing to walk up and down]. No, no, no ; you've heard that already. Engstrand {following hini\. Not insured ! And then to go right down and set light to the whole thing. Lord ! Lord ! what a misfortune ! Manders [wipes the sweat from his forehead\ Ay, you may well say that, Engstrand. Engstrand. And to think that such a thing should happen to a benevolent Institution, that was to have been a blessing both to town and country, as the saying is ! The newspapers won't handle your Reverence very gently, I expect Manders. No ; that's just what I'm thinking of. That's almost the worst of it. All the hateful attacks and accusations ! Oh ! it's terrible only to imagine it. Mrs. AMng [comes in from the garden]. He can't be got away from the fire. Manders. Ah ! there you are, Mrs. Alving ! Mrs. Alving. So you've got off your Inaugural Address, Pastor Manders. Manders. Oh ! I should so gladly Mrs. Alving [in an undertone"]. It is all for the best. That Orphanage would have done no good to anybody. Manders. Do you think not ? Mrs. Alving. Do you think it would ? Manders. It's an immense pity, all the same. GHOSTS. 183 Mrs. Alving. Let us speak plainly of it, as a piece of business. Are you waiting for Mr. Manders, Engstrand ? Engstrand \at the hall door\. Ay, Ma'am ; indeed I am. Mrs. Alving. Then sit down meanwhile. Engstrand. Thank you, Ma'am ; I'd rather stand. Mrs. Alving [to MANDERS]. I suppose you're going away by the steamer? Manders. Yes, it starts in an hour. Mrs. Alving. Be so good as to take all the papers with you. I won't hear another word about that affair. I have got other things to think about Manders. Mrs. Alving Mrs. Alving. Later on I shall send you a Power of Attorney to settle everything as you please. Manders. That I shall very readily take upon myself. The orginal destination of the gift must now be completely changed, alas ! Mrs. Alving. Of course it must. Manders. Well, I think, first of all, I shall arrange that the Solvik property shall pass to the parish. The land is by no means without value. It can always be turned to account for some purpose or other. And the interest of the money in the Bank I could, perhaps, best apply for the benefit of some undertaking that has proved itself a blessing to the town. Mrs. Alving. Do exactly as you please. The whole matter is now completely indifferent to me. Engstrand. Give a thought to my Sailors' Home, your Reverence. Manders. Yes, that's not a bad suggestion. That must be considered. Engstrand. Oh, devil take considering I beg your pardon ! 1 84 GHOSTS. Manders [with a sigh\. And I'm sorry to say I don't know how long I shall be able to retain control of these things whether public opinion may not compel me to retire. It entirely depends upon the result of the official enquiry into the fire Mrs. Alving. What are you talking about ? Manders. And the result can by no means be foretold. Engstrand [comes close to him\ Ay, but it can though. For here stands Jacob Engstrand. Manders. Well, well, but ? Engstrand [more softly\. And Jacob Engstrand isn't the man to desert a noble benefactor in the hour of need, as the saying is. Manders. Yes, but my good fellow how ? Engstrand. Jacob Engstrand may be likened to a guardian angel, he may, your Reverence. Manders. No, no ; I can't 'accept that. Engstrand. Oh ! you will though, all the same. I know a man that's taken others' sins upon himself before now, I do. Manders. Jacob ! \wrings his handJ] you are a rare character. Well, you shall be helped with your Sailors' Home. That you may rely upon. [ENGSTRAND fries to thank him^ but cannot^ for emotion. MR. MANDERS hangs his travelling bag over his shoulder.'] And now let's be off. We two go together. Engstrand [at the dining-room door, softly to REGINA]. You come along too, girl. You shall live as snug as the yolk in an egg. Regina [fosses her head\. Merci ! [She goes out into the hall and fetches MANDERS'S overcoat.'} Manders. Good-bye, Mrs. Alving ! and may the spirit of GHOSTS. 185 Law and Order descend upon this house, and that quickly. Mrs. Alving. Good-bye, Manders. [She goes up towards the conservatory, as she sees OSWALD coming in through the garden door."} Engstrand [while he and REGINA help MANDERS to get his coat on}. Good-bye, my child. And if any trouble should come to you, you know where Jacob Engstrand is to be found. [Softly.} Little Harbour Street. Hm ! [To MRS. ALVING and OSWALD.] And the refuge for wander- ing mariners shall be called " Captain Alving's Home," that it shall ! And if I'm spared to carry on that house in my own way, I venture to promise that it shall be worthy of his memory. Manders [in the doorway], Hm Hm. Now come, my dear Engstrand. Good-bye ! Good-bye ! [He and ENGSTRAND go out through the hall.} Oswald [walks towards the table}. What house was he talking about ? Mrs. Alving. Oh ! I suppose it was a kind of Home that he and Manders want to set up. Ostvald. It will burn down like the other. Mrs. Alving. What makes you think so ? Oswald. Everything will burn. There won't remain a single thing in memory of Father. Here am I, too, burning down. [REGINA starts and looks at him.} Mrs. Alving. Oswald ! you ought not to have remained so long down there, my poor boy ! Oswald [sits down by the table}. I almost think you are right. 1 86 GHOSTS. Mrs. Alving. Let me dry your face, Oswald ; you arc quite wet. [She dries him with her pocket-handkerchief ?\ Oswald [stares indifferently in front of him~\. Thanks, Mother. Mrs. Alving. Are you not tired, Oswald? Would you like to go to sleep ? Oswald [nervously]. No, no I can't sleep. I never sleep. I only pretend to. [Sadly. ~] That will come soon enough. Mrs. Alving [looking sorrowfully at him\. Yes ! you really are ill, my blessed boy. Regina [eagerly.] Is Mr. Alving ill ? Oswald [impatiently.'] Oh ! do shut all the doors ! This deadly fear. . . - Mrs. Alving. Shut the doors, Regina. [REGINA shuts them and remains standing by the hall door. MRS. ALVING takes her shawl off. REGINA does the same. MRS. ALVING draws a chair across to OSWALD'S, and sits by him.~\ Mrs. Alving. There ! now ; I am going to sit beside you Oswald. Ah ! do. And Regina shall stay here, too. Regina shall always be with me. You'll come to the rescue, Regina, won't you ? Regina. I don't understand Mrs. Alving. To the rescue ? Oswald. Yes, in the hour of need. Mrs. Alving. Oswald, have you not your Mother to come to the rescue ? Oswald. You? [Smiles. "\ No, Mother ; that rescue you GHOSTS. 187 will never bring me. [Laughs sadly.] You! ha! ha! \Looks earnestly at her.] Though, after all, it lies nearest to you. [Impetuously.] Why don't you say* "thou" to me, Regina ? Why don't you call me " Oswald " ? Regina [softly]. I don't think Mrs. Alving would like it. Mrs. Alving. You shall soon have leave to do it. And sit over here beside us, won't you ? [REGINA sits down quietly and hesitatingly on the other side of the table] Mrs. Alving. And now, my poor suffering boy, I am going to take the burden off your mind Oswald. You, Mother? Mrs. Alving. All the gnawing remorse and self- reproach. Oswald. And you think you can do that ? Mrs. Alving. Yes, now I can, Oswald. You spoke of the joy of life ; and at that word a new light burst for me over my life and all it has contained. Osivald {shakes his head]. I don't understand what you are saying. Mrs. Alving. You ought to have known your father when he was a young lieutenant. He was brimming over with the joy of life ! Oswald. Yes, I know he was. Mrs. Alving. It was like a breezy day only to look at him. And what exuberant strength and vitality there was in him ! Oswald. Well? Mrs. Alving. And then, child of joy as he was for he was like a child at that time he had to live here at home in a half-grown town, which had no joys to offer him, but * " Sige du " = Fr. tutoyer. 1 88 GHOSTS. only amusements. He had no object in life, but only an office. He had no work into which he could throw himself heart and soul ; he had only business. He had not a single comrade that knew what the joy of life meant only loungers and boon companions Oswald, Mother ! Mrs. Alving. So that happened which was sure to happen. Oswald. And what was sure to happen ? Mrs. Alving. You said yourself, this evening, how it would go with you if you stayed at home. Oswald. Do you mean to say that Father ? Mrs. Alving. Your poor Father found no outlet for the overpowering joy of life that was in him. And I brought no brightness into his home. Oswald. Not even you ? Mrs. Alving. They had taught me a lot about Duties and so on, which I had taken to be true. Everything was marked out into Duties into my Duties and his Duties, and I am afraid I made home intolerable for your poor Father, Oswald. Oswald. Why did you never write me anything about all this ? Mrs. Alving. I have never before seen it in such a light that I could speak of it to you, his son. Oswald. In what light did you see it then ? Mrs. Alving [slowly]. I saw only this one thing, that your Father was a broken-down man before you were born. Oswald, [softly]. Ah! [He rises and walks away to the window^] Mrs. Alving. And then, day after day, I dwelt on the one thought that by rights Regina belonged here in the house just like my own boy. Oswald [turning round quickly]. Regina ! GHOSTS. 189 Regina [springs up and asks, with bated breath :] I ? Mrs. Alving. Yes, now you know it, both of you. Oswald. Regina ! Regina \to herself]. So Mother was that kind of woman, after all. Mrs. Alving. Your Mother had many good qualities, Regina. Regina. Yes, but she was one of that sort, all the same. Oh ! I've often suspected it; but And now, if you please, Ma'am, may I be allowed to go away at once ? Mrs. Alving. Do you really wish it, Regina? Regina. Yes, indeed I do. Mrs. Alving. Of course you can do as you like ; but Oswald [goes towards Regind\. Go away now? Now that you belong here ? Regina. Merci, Mr. Alving ! or now, I suppose, I may say Oswald. But I can tell you this wasn't what I expected. Mrs. Alving. Regina, I have not been frank with you . . . Regina. No, that you haven't, indeed. If I'd known that Oswald was ill, why . . . And now, too, that it can never come to anything serious between us ... Oh ! I really can't stop out here in the country and wear myself out nursing sick people. Oswald. Not even one who is so near to you ? Regina. No, that I can't. A poor girl must make the best of her young days, or she'll be left out in the cold before she knows where she is. And I, too, want to enjoy my life, Mrs. Alving. Mrs. Alving. Yes, I see you do. But don't throw yourself away, Regina. Regina. Oh ! what must be, must be. If Oswald takes after his father, I take after my mother, I daresay. May I ask, Ma'am, if Mr. Manders knows all this about me ? igo GHOSTS. Mrs. Airing. Mr. Manders knows all about it. Regina \puts on her shawl hastily]. Well, then, I'd better make haste and get away by this steamer. Pastor Manders is so nice to deal with ; and I certainly think I've as much right to a little of that money as he has that brute of a carpenter. Mrs. Alving. You are heartily welcome to it, Regina. Regina [looks hard at her\ I think you might have brought me up as a gentleman's daughter, Ma'am ; it would have suited me better. (Tosses her head.} But it's done now it doesn't matter ! ( With a Utter side glance at the corked bottle.} All the same, I may come to drink cham- pagne with gentlefolks yet. Mrs. Alving. And if you ever need a home, Regina, come to me. Regina. No, thank you, Ma'am. Mr. Manders will look after me, I know. And if the worst comes to the worst, I know of one house where I'll certainly be at home. Mrs. Alving. Where is that ? Regina. " Captain Alving's Home." Mrs. Alving, Regina now I see it you're going to your ruin. Regina. Oh, stuff! Good-bye. [She nods and goes out through the hallJ\ Oswald [stands at the window and looks out]. Is she gone? Mrs. Alving. Yes. Oswald [murmuring aside to himself}. I think it was wrong, all this. Mrs. Alving [goes behind him and lays her hands on his shoulders], Oswald, my dear boy ; has it shaken you very much? GHOSTS. 191 Oswald \turns his jace (awards her\. All that about Father, do you mean ? Mrs. Alving. Yes, about your unhappy Father. I'm so afraid it may have been too much for you. Oswald. Why should you fancy that ? Of course it came upon me as a great surprise, but, after all, it can't matter much to me. Mrs. Alving [draws her hands away]. Can't matter ! That your Father was so infinitely miserable ! Oswald. Of course I can feel sympathy for him as I could for anybody else ; but Mrs. Alving. Nothing more ? For your own Father ! Oswald [impatiently}. Oh, there! "Father," "Father"! I never knew anything of Father. I don't remember anything about him except that he once made me sick. Mrs. Alving. That's a terrible way to speak ! Should not a son love his Father, all the same ? Oswald, When a son has nothing to thank his Father for ? has never known him? Do you really cling to the old superstition ? you who are so enlightened in other ways ? Mrs. Alving. Is that only a superstition ? Oswald. Yes ; can't you see it, Mother ? It is one of those notions that are current in the world, and so Mrs. Alving [deeply moved]. Ghosts ! Oswald [crossing the room]. Yes ; you may well call them Ghosts. Mrs. Alving [wildly]. Oswald ! then you don't love me, either ! Oswald. You I know, at any rate. Mrs. Alving. Yes, you know me ; but is that all ? Oswald. And of course I know how fond you are of 192 GHOSTS. me, and I can't but be grateful to you. And you can be so very useful to me, now that I am ill. Mrs. Alving. Yes, can't I, Oswald? Oh! I could almost bless your illness which drove you home to me. For I can see very plainly you are not mine; I have to win you. Oswald [impatiently]. Yes, yes, yes ; all these are just so many phrases. You must recollect I am a sick man, Mother. I can't be much taken up with other people ; I have enough to do thinking about myself. Mrs. Alving [in a low voice], I shall be easily satisfied and patient. Oswald. And cheerful too, Mother. Mrs. Alving. Yes, my dear boy, you are quite right. [Goes towards himJ] Have I relieved you of all remorse and self-reproach now? Oswald. Yes; you have done that. But who is to relieve me of the fear ? Mrs. Alving. The fear ? Oswald [walks across the room]. Regina could have been got to do it. Mrs. Alving. I don't understand you. What is all this about fear and Regina ? Oswald. Is it very late, Mother ? Mrs. Alving. It is early morning. [She looks out through the conservatory, ,] The day is dawning over the hills ; and the weather is fine, Oswald. In a little while you shall see the sun. Oswald. I'm glad of that. Oh ! there may be much for me to rejoice in and live for Mrs. Alving. Yes, much much, indeed ! Oswald. Even if I can't work Mrs. Alving. Oh ! you will soon be able to work again, GHOSTS. 193 my dear boy, now that you have no longer got all those gnawing and depressing thoughts to brood over. Oswald. Yes, I am glad you were able to free me from all those fancies ; and when I've got one thing more arranged \Sits on the sofa.] Now we will have a little talk, Mother. Mrs. Alving. Yes, let us. \She pushes an arm-chair towards the sofa, and sits down close to him.] Oswald. And meantime the sun will be rising. And then you will know all. And then I shan't have that fear any longer. Mrs. Alving. What am I to know? Oswald [not listening to her\. Mother, didn't you say, a little while ago, that there was nothing in the world you would not do for me, if I asked you. Mrs. Alving. Yes, to be sure I said it. Oswald. And you'll stick to it, Mother ? Mrs. Alving. You may rely on that, my dear and only boy ! I have nothing in the world to live for but you alone. Oswald. All right, then; now you shall hear. Mother, you have a strong, steadfast mind, I know. Now you are to sit quite still when you hear it. Mrs. Alving. What dreadful thing can it be ? Oswald. You are not to scream out. Do you hear ? Do you promise me that? We'll sit and talk about it quite quietly. Do you promise me this, mother? Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes; I promise you that. Only speak ! Oswald. Well, you must know that all this fatigue, and this of my not being able to think of working at all all that is not the illness itself Mrs. Alving. Then what is the illness itself? 508 194 GHOSTS. Oswald. The disease I have as my birthright [he points to his forehead and adds very softly] is seated here. Mrs. Alving [almost voiceless\. Oswald ! No, no ! Oswald. Don't scream. I can't bear it. Yes, it is sitting here waiting. And it may break out any day at any moment. Mrs. Alving. Oh ! what horror ! Oswald. Now, do be quiet. That's how it stands with me Mrs. Alving [jumps up\ It is not true, Oswald. It is impossible. It can't be so. Oswald. I have had one attack down there already. It was soon over. But when I got to know what had been the matter with me, then the fear came upon me raging and tearing ; and so I set off home to you as fast as I could. Mrs. Alving. Then this is the fear ! Oswald. Yes, for it's so indescribably awful, you know. Oh ! if it had been merely an ordinary mortal disease ! For I'm not so afraid of death though I should like to live as long as I can. Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes, Oswald, you must. Oswald. But this is so unspeakably loathsome 1 To become a little baby again ! To have to be fed ! To have to Oh ! it is past telling ! Mrs. Alving. The child has his mother to nurse him. Oswald [jumps up]. No, never ; that's just what I won't have. I can't endure to think that perhaps I should lie in that state for many years get old and grey. And in the meantime you might die and leave me. [Sits in MRS. ALVING'S chair.~\ For the doctor said it would not necessarily prove fatal at once. He called it a sort of softening of the brain or something of the kind. [Smiles sadly.] I think that expression sounds so nice. It always GHOSTS. 195 sets me thinking of cherry-coloured velvet something soft and delicate to stroke. Mrs. Alving [screams]. Oswald ! Oswald, [springs up and paces the rooni]. And now you have taken Regina from me. If I'd only had her ! She would have come to the rescue, I know. Mrs. Alving [goes to hini\. What do you mean by that, my darling boy? Is there any help in the world that I wouldn't give you ? Oswald. When I got over my attack in Paris, the doctor told me that when it came again and it will come again there would be no more hope. Mrs. Alving. He was heartless enough Oswald. I demanded it of him. I told him I had preparations to make. \He smiles cunningly?^ And so I had. \He takes a little box from his inner breast pocket and opens it.'] Mother, do you see these ? Mrs. Alving. What is that? Oswald. Morphia powder. Mrs. Alving (looks horrified at him). Oswald my boy ? Oswald. I have scraped together twelve pilules Mrs. Alving (snatches at it). Give me the box, Oswald. Oswald. Not yet, mother. [He hides the box again in his pocket^ Mrs. Alving. I shall never survive this. Oswald. It must be survived. Now if I had Regina here, I should have told her how it stood with me, and begged her to come to the rescue at the last. She would have done it. I'm certain she would. Mrs. Alving. Never ! Oswald. When the horror had come upon me, and she saw me lying there helpless, like a little new-born baby, impotent, lost, hopeless, past all saving 196 GHOSTS. Mrs. Alving. Never in all the world would Regina have done this. Oswald. Regina would have done it. Regina was so splendidly light-hearted. And she would soon have wearied of nursing an invalid like me Mrs. Alving. Then Heaven be praised that Regina is not here. Oswald. Well, then, it is you that must come to the rescue, mother. Mrs. Alving (screams aloud}. I ! Oswald. Who is nearer to it than you ? Mrs. Alving. I ! your mother ! Oswald. For that very reason. Mrs. Alving. I, who gave you life ! Oswald. I never asked you for life. And what sort of a life is it that you have given me ? I will not have it. You shall take it back again. Mrs. Alving. Help ! help ! [She runs out into the halt.~\ Oswald [going after her\ Don't leave me. Where are you going? Mrs. Alving [in the hall']. To fetch the doctor, Oswald. Let me go. Oswald [also outside]. You shall not go. And no one shall come in. \The locking of a door is heard.] Mrs. Alving [comes in again]. Oswald Oswald ! my child ! Oswald [follows her\. Have you a mother's heart for me, and yet can see me suffer from this unutterable fear ? Mrs. Alving [after a moment's silence, commands herself, and says .] Here is my hand upon it. Oswald. Will you ? Mrs. Alving. If it is ever necessary. But it will never be necessary. No, no ; it is impossible. GHOSTS. 197 Oswald. Well, let us hope so, and let us live together as long as we can. Thank you, Mother. [He sits down in the arm-chair which MRS. ALVING has moved to the sofa. Day is breaking. The lamp is still burning on the table.] Mrs. Ailing [drawing near cautiously}. Do you feel calm, now? Oswald. Yes. Mrs. Alving [bending over hini\. It has been a dreadful fancy of yours, Oswald nothing but a fancy. You have not been able to bear all this excitement. But now you shall have a long rest ; at home with your own mother, my own blessed boy. Everything you point to you shall have, just as when you were a little child. There now ! That crisis is over now. You see how easily it passed. Oh ! I was sure it would And do you see, Oswald, what a lovely day we are going to have ? Brilliant sunshine ! Now you will really be able to see your home. [She goes to the table and puts the lamp out. Sunrise. The glacier and the snow-peaks in the background glow in the morning light.] Oswald [sits in the arm-chair ivith his back towards the landscape, without moving. Suddenly he says .-] Mother, give me the sun. Mrs. Alving [by the table, starts and looks at him\. What do you say ? Oswald [repeats, in a dull toneless voice .-] The sun. The sun. Mrs. Alving [goes to him\ Oswald, what is the matter with you? [Oswald seems to shrink together in the chair; all his muscles relax ; his face is expressionless, his eyes have a 198 GHOSTS. glassy stare. MRS. ALVING is quivering with terror]. What is this? [shrieks.] Oswald, what is the matter with you? [Falls on her knees beside him and shakes him]. Oswald, Oswald ! look at me ! Don't you know me ? Oswald [tonelessly as before}. The sun. The sun. Mrs. Alving [springs up in despair, intwines her hands in her hair and shrieks]. I can't bear it [whispers as though petrified] I can't bear it! Never! [Suddenly] Where has he got them? [Fumbles hastily in his breast] Here! [Shrinks back a, few steps and screams] No, no, no ! Yes ! No, no ! [She stands a few steps from him with her hands twisted in her hair, and stares at him in speechless terror] Oswald [sits motionless as before and says:] The sun. The sun. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY.* A PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. * For the title of this play En Folkefiende, literally "a folk- enemy," or "an enemy of the people," no exact idiomatic equivalent can be found in English. "An Enemy of Society" has seemed the most satisfactory rendering available. CHARACTERS. DOCTOB THOMAS STOCKMANN, medical officer of the Baths. MRS. STOCKMANN, his wife. PETBA, their daughter, a teacher. Mr> J TF \their sons, boys of thirteen. PETER STOCKMANN, the doctor's elder brother, burgomaster and prefect of police, chairman of the board of directors, etc. MORTEN KIIL, master tanner, Airs. Stockmann's foster-father. Ho VST AD, editor of the "People's Messenger." BILLING, mi the staff. HORSTER, a ship's captain. ASLAKSEN, sprinter. Townsfolk present at the meeting ; all sorts and conditions of men, some women, and a crowd of school-boys. SCENE : A toivn on the South Coast of Norway. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. ACT I. Evening. DR. STOCKMANN'S sitting-room; with simple but cheerful furniture and decorations. In the wall to the right are two doors, the first leading to the Doctor's study, the second to an ante-room. In the opposite wall, facing the ante-room door, a door leading to the other rooms. Near the middle of this wall stands the stove, and further towards the foreground a sofa, with looking-glass above it, and in front of it an oval table with a cover. On the table a lighted lamp, with a shade. In the back wall an open door leading to the dining-room. In the latter is seen a dinner-table, with a lamp on it. BILLING is seated at the table, a serviette under his chin. MRS. STOCK.MANN stands by the table and hands him a great plate of roast beef. The other seats round tJie table are empty; the table is in some disorder, as at the end of a meal. Mrs. Stockmann. Well, if you're an hour late, Mr. Billing, you must put up with a cold supper. Billing [eating']. That's excellent, delicious ! Mrs. Stockmann. You know how Stockmann keeps to regular meal hours Billing. It's all right. Indeed, I think it tastes better when I can sit down like this and eat all by myself, and undisturbed. 202 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Mrs. Stockmann. Well, if you are satisfied I {Listen- ing by door of ante-room.] Surely there's Hovstad coming too! Billing. Very likely. {Enter BURGOMASTER STOCKMANN, wearing an overcoat and an official gold-laced cap, and carrying a stick.] Burgomaster. Good evening, sister-in-law. Mrs. Stockmann [coming into the sitting-room]. What, you ! Good evening . It is very nice of you to look in. Burgomaster. I was just passing, and so [Looks towards dining-room.] Ah ! I see you've still got company. Mrs. Stockmann [rather awkwardly]. Oh, no ! Not at all ; it is quite by chance. [Hurriedly ^\ Won't you come in and have something? Burgomaster. I ? No, thanks. God forbid I should eat anything hot in the evening ; that wouldn't suit my digestion. Mrs. Stockmann. Oh ! just this once Burgomaster. No, no. Much obliged to you. I stick to tea and bread and butter. That's more wholesome in the long run and rather more economical, too. Mrs. Stockmann [smiling]. Now, you mustn't think Thomas and I are mere spendthrifts. Burgomaster. You're not, sister-in-law ; far be it from me to say that. [Pointing to Doctor's study.] Perhaps he's not at home ? Mrs. Stockmann. No, he's gone for a short stroll after supper with the boys. Burgomaster. Good gracious ! Is that healthy? [Listening.] There he is. Mrs. Stockmann. No, that's not he. [A knock .] Come in ! [Enter HOVSTAD, the editor, from the ante-room.] Ah ! it's Mr. Hovstad, who AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 203 Hovstad. Yes, you must excuse me, but I was delayed at the printer's. Good evening, Burgomaster. Burgomaster [bowing rather stiffly], Mr. Hovstad ! I suppose you've come on business? Hovstad. Partly. About something for the paper. Burgomaster. So I supposed. I hear my brother is an extremely prolific contributor to the People's Messenger. Hovstad. Yes, he writes for the Messenger when he has some truths to speak upon one thing or another. Mrs. Stockmann [to Hovstad~\. But wont you ? [Points to dining-room.'} Burgomaster. God forbid I should blame him for writing for the class of readers from whom he expects most appreciation. And, personally, I've no reason to bear your paper any ill-will, Mr. Hovstad. Hovstad. No, I should think not. Burgomaster. On the whole, there's a great deal of tolera- tion in this town. There's much public spirit here. And that because we have one common interest which unites us all in one undertaking that equally concerns all right- thinking citizens. Hovstad. Yes the Baths. Burgomaster. Just so. We have our magnificent new Baths. Yes ! The Baths will be the centre of life in this town, Mr. Hovstad, without doubt. Mrs. Stockmann. That's just what Thomas says. Burgomaster. How extraordinary the development of our town has been even within the last few years. Money has circulated among the people, there is life and movement. Houses and ground-rents have risen in value. Hovstad. And the difficulty of getting work is decreasing. Burgomaster. And the poor-rates have been most satis- factorily lessened for the possessing class, and will be still 204 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. further reduced if only we have a really fine summer this year and plenty of visitors lots of invalids, who'll give the Baths a reputation. Hovstad. And I hear there's every prospect of that. Burgomaster. Things look most promising. Every day inquiries about apartments and so forth come flowing in. Hovstad. Then the doctor's essay is very opportune. Burgomaster. Has he been writing something again ? Hovstad. It's something he wrote in the winter ; recom- mending the Baths, and describing the advantageous sanitary conditions of our town. But at the time I didn't use it. Burgomaster. Ha ! I suppose there was some little hitch! Hovstad. Not at all. But I thought it would be better to wait till the spring, for people are beginning to get ready now for their summer holidays. Burgomaster. You're right, quite right, Mr. Hovstad. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, Thomas is really indefatigable where the Baths are concerned. Burgomaster. Why, of course, he's one of the staff. Hovstad. Yes, he was really their creator. Burgomaster. Was he ? I occasionally hear that certain persons are of that opinion. But I should say I too have a modest share in that undertaking. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, that's what Thomas is always saying. Hovstad. Who wants to deny it, Burgomaster ? You set the thing going, and put it on a practical footing. Every- body knows that I only meant that the idea originally was the doctor's. Burgomaster. Yes, certainly my brother has had ideas in his time worse luck ! But when anything is to be set going, we want men of another stamp, Mr. Hovstad. And I should have expected that in this house at least AN ENEMY O* SOCIETY. 205 Mrs. Stockmann. But, my dear brother-in-law Hovstad. Burgomaster, how can you Mrs. Stockmann. Do come in and take something, Mr. Hovstad ; my husband is sure to be in directly. Hovstad. Thanks ; just a mouthful, perhaps. [He goes into the dining-room.] Burgomaster [speaking in a low voice]. It's extraordinary that people who spring directly from the peasant-class never get rid of a want of tact. Mrs. Stockmann. But why should you care ? Can't you and Thomas share the honour as brothers ? Burgomaster. Yes, one would suppose so ; but it seems a share of the honour isn't enough for some persons. Mrs. Stockmann. How ridiculous ! You and Thomas always get on so well together. [Listening.] There, I think I hear him. [Goes to the door of the ante-room.] Dr. Stockmann [laughing without]. Here's a visitor for you, Katrine. Isn't it jolly here ? Come in, Captain Horster. Hang your coat up there. Oh ! you don't even wear an overcoat ? Fancy, Katrine, I caught him in the street, and I could hardly get him to come along. [CAPTAIN HORSTER enters and vows to MRS. STOCKMANN. The Doctor is by the door.] In with you, boys. They're famished again ! Come on, Captain ; you must have some of our beef. \He forces HORSTER into the dining-room. EjLlF and MORTEN also join] Mrs. Stockmann. But, Thomas, haven't you seen Dr. Stockmann [turning round in the doorway]. Oh ! is that you, Peter ? [Goes up to him and holds out his hand.] Now, this is splendid. Burgomaster. Unfortunately, I must be off directly Dr. Stockmann. Nonsense ! We'll have some toddy in a minute. You haven't forgotten the toddy, Katrine ? 206 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Mrs. Stockmann. Of course not, the water's boiling. [She goes into the dining-room.] Burgomaster. Toddy, too ! Dr. Stockmann. Yes ; sit down, and you'll see how cosy we shall be. Burgomaster. Thanks ; I never join in a drinking-bout. Dr. Stockmann. But this isn't a drinking-bout. Burgomaster. It seems to me [Looks towards the dining-room.] It's wonderful how they can get through all that food. Dr. Stockmann [rubbing his hands]. Yes, doesn't it do one good to see young people eat ? Always hungry ! They must eat ! They need strength ! It's they who have to stir up the ferment for the after-time, Peter. Burgomaster. May I ask what there is to be " stirred up," as you call it ? Dr. Stockmann. Well, you'll have to ask the young people that when the time comes. We shall not see it, of course. Two old fogies like us Burgomaster. There, there. Surely that's a very extra- ordinary expression to use Dr. Stockmann. Ah ! you mustn't mind what I say, Peter. For you must know I am so glad and content. I feel so unspeakably happy in the midst of all this growing, germinating life. After all, what a glorious time we do live in. It is as if a new world were springing up around us. Burgomaster. Do you really think so ? Dr. Stockmann. Well, of course, you can't see this as clearly as I do. You've spent all your life in this place, and so your perceptions have been dulled. But I, who had to live up there in that small hole in the north all those years, hardly ever seeing a soul to speak a stimulating AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 207 word to me all this affects me as if I were carried to the midst of a crowded city Burgomaster. Hm ! City- Dr. Stockmann. Oh ! I know well enough that the con- ditions of life are small enough compared with many other towns. But here is life growth, an infinity of things to work for and to strive for ; and that is the main point. [Calling.'] Katrine, haven't there been any letters? Mrs. Stockmann \in the dining-room]. No, none at all. Dr. Stockmann. And then, the comfortable income, Peter ! That's something a man learns to appreciate when he has starved as we have Burgomaster. Good heavens ! Dr. Stockmann. Oh yes ! you can imagine that we were hard put to it up there. And now we can live like lords ! To-day, for example, we had roast beef for dinner, and what's more, we've had some for supper too. Won't you have some ! Come along just look at it, anyhow. Burgomaster. No, no ; certainly not. Dr. Stockmann. Well, then, look here. Do you see that fine tablecloth ? Burgomaster. Yes, I've noticed it already. Dr. Stockmann. And we've some nice lamps too. Do you see ? Katrine has bought them all out of her savings. And it all helps to make a house so home-like. Doesn't it ? Come over here. No, no, no, not there ! So yes do you see how the light streams down I do really think it looks very nice. Eh ? Burgomaster. Yes, when one can afford such luxuries. Dr. Stockmann. Oh ! yes, I can afford it now. Katrine says I earn nearly as much as we spend. Burgomaster. Yes nearly ! Dr. Stockmann. Besides, a man of science must live in 2 o8 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. some style. I'm certain a sheriff* spends much more a-year than I do. Burgomaster. Yes, I daresay ! A member of the superior magistracy ! Dr. Stockmann. Yes, even a mere merchant ! Such a fellow spends many times as much. Burgomaster. Well, that is unavoidable in his position. Dr. Stockmann. For the rest, I really don't spend any- thing unnecessarily, Peter. But I can't deny myself the delight of having people about me. I must have them. I, so long isolated, it is a' necessity of life for me to see the young, brave, determined, free-thinking, strenuous men gathered around me and that they are, all of them, sitting there and eating so heartily. I should like you to know more of Hovstad Burgomaster. Ah, Hovstad ! He was telling me that he he is going to give another essay of yours. Dr. Stockmann. An essay of mine? Burgomaster. Yes, about the Baths. An article written in the winter Dr. Stockmann. Oh ! that one yes. But I don't want that to appear just now. Burgomaster. Why not ? This is the very time for it. Dr. Stockmann. Well, you may be right, under ordinary circumstances [Crosses the room.] Burgomaster [looking after him]. And what's unusual in the circumstances now ? Dr. Stockmann [standing still]. Peter, I can't tell you yet not this evening, at all events. The circumstances may turn out to be very unusual. On the other hand, there may be nothing at all. Very likely its only my fancy. * Amtmand, the chief government official of an Ami or county ; conse- quently a high dignitary in the bureaucratic hierarchy. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 209 Burgomaster. Upon my word, you're very enigmatical. Is there anything in the wind? Anything I'm to be kept in the dark about? I should think that I, who am Chairman Dr. Stockmann. And I should think that I There ! don't let's tear one another's hair, Peter. Burgomaster. God forbid ! I am not in the habit of " tearing hair," as you express it. But I must absolutely insist that everything concerning the Baths shall be carried on in a business-like manner, and under proper authority. I can't consent to the following of devious and underhand ways. Dr. Stockmann. And am I in the habit of following devious and underhand ways ? Burgomaster. Anyhow, you've an ingrained propensity for going your own way. And that in a well-ordered com- munity is almost as dangerous. The individual must submit himself to the whole community, or,, to speak more correctly, bow to the authority that watches over the welfare of all. Dr. Stockmann Maybe. But what the devil has that to do with me ? Burgomaster. Well, it's just this, my dear Thomas, that it seems you won't learn. But take care ; you'll have to pay for it one of these days. Now, I've warned you. Good-bye. Dr. Stockmann. Are you quite mad ? You're altogether on the wrong tack. Burgomaster. I'm not in the habit of being that. And I must beg that you will \Bowing towards dining-room^ Good-bye, sister-in-law ; good-bye, gentlemen. \Exit\ Mrs. Stockmann \entering the room\. Is he gone ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, and in an awful rage, too. Mrs. Stockmann. But, dear Thomas, now what have you been up to again ? 509 5io AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. Nothing at all. Surely he can't expect me to account for everything beforehand. Mrs. Stockmann. And what are you to account to him for? Dr. Stockmann. Hm ! Never mind about that, Katrine. It's very odd that there are no letters. [HOVSTAD, BILLING, and HORSTER have risen from table and come into the room. EjLIF and MORTEN enter soon after.] Billings \stretchin his arm]. Ah ! God bless me ! After a good meal one feels a new man. Hovstad. The Burgomaster didn't seem in the best of tempers to-day. Dr. Stockmann. That's his stomach. He has a very poor digestion. Hovstad. It's more especially us of the Messenger that he can't stomach. Mrs. Stockmann. I thought you got on with him well enough. Hovstad. Oh, yes ! But now we've only a truce. Billing. That's so. That word quite sums up the situation. Dr. Stockmann. We must bear in mind that Peter is a bachelor, poor devil ! He has no home to be happy in, only business, business. And then that cursed weak tea, that's about all he takes. Now, then, put chairs round the table, boys ! Katrine, aren't we to have that punch soon ? Mrs. Stockmann [going towards dining-room^ I'm just getting it. Dr. Stockmann. And you, Captain Horster, sit down by me on the sofa. So rare a guest as you Be seated, gentlemen. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 2 1 1 [The men sit round the table, Mrs. STOCKMANN brings in a tray with kettle, glasses, water-bottles, etc] Mrs. Stockmann. There you are ! Here's arrak, and this is rum, and this cognac. Now, help yourselves. Dr. Stockmann [taking a glass]. So we will ! [ While the toddy is being mixed.] And now out with the cigars. Ejlif, you know where the box is. And you, Morten, may fetch my pipe. [The boys go to the room right '.] I have a suspicion Ejlif cribs a cigar now and then, but I pretend not to notice it. [Calls.] And my skull-cap, Morten. Katrine, can't you tell him where I left it? Ah ! he's got it. [The boys bring in the things.] Now, friends, help yourselves. You know I stick to my pipe ; this one has been on many a stormy journey with me up there in the north. [They touch glasses.] Your health ! There's nothing like sitting here, warm and sheltered. Mrs. Stockmann [who sits knitting]. When do you sail. Captain Horster? Horsier. I hope I shall have everything straight by next week. Mrs. Stockmann. And you're going to America ? Horster. Yes, that's my intention. Billing. But then you won't be able to take part in the election of the new council. Horster. Is there to be a new election here ? Billing. Didn't you know ? Horster. No, I don't bother about things of that sort. Billing. But I suppose you take an interest in public affairs. Horster. No, I don't understand anything about them. Billing. Still one ought to make use of one's vote. Horster. Even those who don't understand anything about it ? 212 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Billing. Understand? Now, what do you mean by that ? Society is like a ship ; every man must help in the steering. Horster. That may be all right on shore, but at sea it would not do at all. Hovstad. It is very remarkable how little most seafaring folk care about public matters. Billing. Most extraordinary. Dr. Stockmann. Seafaring folk are like birds of passage ; they feel at home both in the south and in the north. So the rest of us have to be all the more energetic, Mr. Hovstad. Will there be anything of public interest in the People's Messenger to-morrow ? Hovstad. Nothing of local interest. But the day after to-morrow I'm thinking of using your paper Dr. Stockmann. Yes d n it all, I say, you'll have to hold that over. Hovstad. Really? And we'd just got room for it. I should say, too, that this was the very time for it Dr. Stockmann. Yes, yes, you may be right, but you'll have to hold it over all the same. I'll explain to you by-and-by [PETRA enters with hat and cloak on, with a number of exercise books under her arm. She comes in from the ante-room.~\ Petra. Good evening ! Dr. Stockmann. Good evening, Petra ! Is that you ? [ They all bow. PETRA puts cloak and books on a chair by the door.] Petra. Here you all are, enjoying yourselves, while I've been out slaving ! Dr. Stockmann. Well, then, you come and enjoy yourself too. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 213 Billing. May I mix you a little ? Petra [coming towards the table\ Thanks, I'll help myself you always make it too strong. But, by-the-way, father, I've a letter for you. [Goes to the chair where her things are lying.] Dr. Stockmann. A letter ! From whom ? Petra [searching in the pocket of her cloak]. I got it from the postman just as I was going out Dr. Stockmann [rising and going towards her]. And you only bring it me now ? Petra. I really hadn't time to run up again. Forgive me, father here it is. Dr. Stockmann [taking letter}. Let me see, let me see, child. [.Reads the address~\. Yes ; all right ! Mrs. Stockmann. It is the one you've been expecting so, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, it is. Now, I must go to my room at once. Where shall I find a light, Katrine ? Is there a lamp in the other room ? Mrs. Stockmann. Yes the lamp is lit. It's on the writing- table. Dr. Stockmann. Excuse me one moment. [He goes to room R. and closes door] Petra. What can it be, mother ? Mrs. Stockmann. I don't know. For the last few days he has been always on the look-out for the postman. Billing. Probably a country patient. Petra. Poor father ! He really works too hard. [Mixes her toddy.} Ah ! that'll be good. Hovstad. Have you been teaching in the night school as well to-day ? Petra [sipping her glass]. Two hours. 2i4 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Billing. And in the morning four hours at the Institute Petra [sitting down by table\. Five hours. Mrs. Stockmann. And I see you've some exercises to correct this evening. Petra. Yes, quite a heap of them. Horsier. You've enough to do, it seems to me. Petra. Yes ; but that's a good thing. One is so delightfully tired after it. Billing. Do you really think that ? Petra. Yes, for then one sleeps so well. Morten. I say, Petra, you must be a very great sinner. Petra. A sinner ! Morten. Yes, if you work so hard. Mr. Rorlund says work is a punishment for our sins. Ejlif [with a superior air]. Bosh ! You are a child to believe such stuff as that. Mrs. Stockmann. Come, come, Ejlif. Billing [laughing]. No ! that's too rich ! Hovstad. Would you like to work so hard, Morten ? Morten. No, I shouldn't. Hovstad. Yes ; but what will you turn out then ? Morten. I should like to be a Viking. Ejlif. But then you'd have to be a heathen. Morten. Then I'd be a heathen. Billing. There I agree with you, Morten. I say just the same. Mrs. Stockmann [making a sign to him~\. No, no, Mr. Billing, you don't. Billing. God bless me ! I should. I'm a heathen, and I'm proud of it. You'll see we shall all be heathens soon. Morten. And shall we be able to do anything we like then? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 215 Billing. Well, you sec, Morten Mrs. Stockmann. Now, run away, boys ; I'm sure you've some lessons to prepare for to-morrow. Ejlif. I may stay just a little longer. Mrs. Siockmann. No, not you either. Now be off, both of you. \The boys say good-night and go off by room L.] Hovstad. Do you think it does the boys any harm td hear these things ? Mrs. Stockmann. Well, I don't know ; but I don't like it. Petra. But, mother, I think that's ridiculous of you. Mrs. Stockmann. Maybe ! But I don't like it here, at home. Petra. There's so much falseness both at home and at school. At home you mustn't speak, and at school you have to stand there and lie to the children. Horsier. You have to lie ? Petra. Yes ; don't you know that we have to teach many and many a thing we don't believe ourselves. Billing. Yes, we know that well enough. Petra. If only I could afford it I'd start a school myself, and things should be very different there. Billing. Ah ! as to means Horsier. If you are really thinking of doing that, Miss Stockmann, I shall be delighted to let you have a room at my place. My big old house is nearly empty ; there's a large dining-room on the ground floor Peira \laughing\. Yes, yes, thank you but nothing will come of it. Hovstad. Oh no ! Miss Petra will yet come over to the journalists, I fancy. By-the-way, have you done anything at the English novel you promised to translate for us ? 216 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Petra. Not yet. But you shall have it in good time. [DR. STOCKMANN enters from his room with the letter open in his hand."] Dr. Stockmann \_flourishing the letter]. Here's some news, I think, will wake up the town ! Billing. News? Mrs. Stockmann. What news ? Dr. Stockmann. A great discovery, Katrine. Hovstad. What? Mrs. Stockmann. Made by you? Dr. Stockmann. Yes by me ! [ Walks up and down.} Now, let them come as usual, and say these are fads and crack-brained fancies. But they'll not dare to. Ha ! ha ! I know they won't. Petra. Father, do tell us what it is. Dr. Stockmann. Well, well, give me time, and you shall hear all about it. If only Peter were here now ! There, you see how we men can go about and form judgments like blind moles Hovstad. What do you mean, doctor ? Dr. Stockmann [standing near table]. Is it not the general opinion that the town is healthy ? Hovstad. Of course. Dr. Stockmann. Indeed, a quite exceptionally healthy place, worthy to be recommended in the warmest manner to our fellow-men, both the sick and the whole Mrs. Stockmann. My dear Thomas Dr. Stockmann. And we've recommended and belauded it too. I have written again and again, both in the Messenger and in pamphlets Hovstad. Yes, and what then ? Dr. Stockmann. These Baths, that we have called the AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 217 pulse of the town, the living nerves of the town and the devil knows what else Billing. "The town's palpitating heart" it was thus that in one inspired moment I allowed myself to Dr. Stockmann. Ah, yes ! that also ! But do you know what in reality these mighty, magnificent, belauded Baths that have cost so much money do you know what they are ? Hovstad. No, what are they ? Mrs. Stockmann. Why, what are they? Dr. Stockmann. The whole place is a pest-house. Petra. The Baths, father ? Mrs. Stockmann \at the same time\. Our Baths 1 Hovstad \also at the same time\. But, doctor ! Billing. Oh ! it's incredible. Dr. Stockmann. The whole place, I tell you, is a whited sepulchre ; noxious in the highest degree. All that filth up there in the mill dale, with its horrible stench, taints the water in the feed-pipes of the Baths ; and the same d d muck oozes out on the shore Hovstad. Where the sea Baths are ? Dr. Stockmann. There. Hovstad. But how are you so certain of all this, doctor ? Dr. Stockmann. I have investigated the conditions as conscientiously as possible. This long time I have had my doubts about it. Last year we had some extraordinary cases of illness both typhoid and gastric attacks Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, I remember. Dr. Stockmann. At the time we thought the visitors had brought the infection with them ; but since last winter I came to another conclusion. So I set about examining the water as well as I could. Mrs. Stockmann. It was this you were working so hard at! 2i8 AN ENEMY Of SOCIETY. Dt. Stockmann. Yes, you may well say I've worked, Katrine. But here, you know, I hadn't the necessary scientific appliances, so I sent both our drinking and sea- water to the university for an exact analysis by a chemist. Hovstad. And you have now received it ? Dr. Stockmann [shewing letter\. Here it is. And it proves beyond dispute the presence of organic matter in the water millions of infusoria. It is absolutely injurious to health whether used internally or externally. Mrs. Stockmann. What a blessing - T OU found it out in time. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, you may well say that. Hovstad. And what do you intend to do now, doctor ? Dr. Stockmann. Why, set things right, of course. Hovstad. Do you think that can be done ? Dr. Stockmann. It must be done. Else the whole Baths are useless, ruined. But there's no need for that. I'm quite clear as to what will have to be done. Mrs. Stockmann. But, my dear Thomas, that you should have kept all this so secret ! Dr. Stockmann. Would you have had me rush all over the town and chatter about it before I was quite certain No, thanks ! I'm not so mad as that. Petra. But us at home Dr. Stockmann. Not one word to a living soul. But to-morrow you may run in to the Badger. Mrs. Stockmann. Oh ! Thomas ! Dr. Stockmann. Well, well, to your g.andfather. He'll have something to wonder at now, the old fellow. He thinks I'm not all right in my head yes, and there are plenty of others who think the same, I've noticed. But now the good folk will see now they will see ! \Walks up and doivn rubbing his hands :] What a stir AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 219 there'll be in the town, Katrine ! You can't imagine what it will be ! All the water-pipes will have to be re-laid. ffovstad [rising]. All the water-pipes ? Dr. Stockmann. Why, of course. They've been laid too low down ; they must be moved up to higher ground. Petra. So, after all, you are right. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, do you remember, Petra ? I wrote against it when they began building them. But then no one would listen to me. Now, be sure, I'll speak straight out, for, of course, I have written a report to the Directors. It has been lying there ready a whole week ; I've only been waiting for this letter. \Points to letter, .] But now they shall have it at once. \Goes into his room and returns with a packet of papers.} See ! Four closely-written sheets. And the letter shall go too. A newspaper Katrine ! Get me something to wrap them up in. There that's it. Give it to to [Stamp s.] What the devil's her name ? Well, give it to the girl, and tell her to take it at once to the Burgomaster. [MRS. STOCKMANN %oes out with packet through the dining- room^ Petra. What do you think Uncle Peter will say, father ? Dr. Stockmann. What should he say ? He'll be delighted that so important a fact has been discovered, I fancy. Hovstad. I suppose you'll let me write a short notice about your discovery for the Messenger. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, I should be really obliged to you. Hovstad. It is very desirable. The sooner the public know about it the better. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, so it is. Mrs. Stockmann [returning]. She's gone with it Billing. God bless me, doctor, you're the greatest man in the town. 220 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann \walks up and down delightedly]. Oh, bosh ! Why, after all, I've done no more than my duty. I've been lucky in digging for treasures; that's all; but all the same Billing. Hovstad, don't you think the town ought to give Dr. Stockmann a torch-light procession ? Hovstad. I shall certainly see to it. Billing. And I'll talk it over with Aslaksen. Dr. Stockmann. No, dear friends. Let all such clap- trap alone. I won't hear of anything of the sort. And if the directors want to give me a higher salary, I won't take it. I tell you, Katrine, I will not take it. Mrs. Stockmann. And you will be right, Thomas. Petra [raising her glass]. Your health, father. Hovstad and Billing. Your health, your health, doctor ! Horsier \touching glasses with the doctor\. I wish you much joy of your discovery. Dr. Stockmann. Thanks, thanks, my good friends. I am so heartily glad ; ah ! it is in truth a blessing to know in one's own mind that one has deserved well of his native town and his fellow-citizens. Hurrah ! Katrine ! \He seizes her with both hands, and whirls her round with him. Mrs. Stockmann screams and struggles. A burst of laughter, applause, and cheers for the doctor. The boys thrust their heads in at the door."\ AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 221 ACT II. The same. The door of the dining-room is closed. Morning. MRS. STOCKMANN enters from dining-room with a sealed letter in her hand, and goes to the room right first entrance, and peeps in. Mrs. Stockmann. Are you there, Thomas ? Dr. Stockmann [within]. Yes, I've just got back. [Enters.] What is it? Mrs. Stockmann. A letter from your brother. [Hands him letter, .] Dr. Stockmann. Ah! let's see. [Opens envelope and reads.] " The enclosed MS. remitted herewith [Reads on, muttering.] Hm ! Mrs. Slockmann. Well, what does he say? Dr. Stockmann [putting paper in his pocket]. Nothing , he only writes that he'll come up himself about midday. Mrs. Stockmann. Then you must for once remember to stay at home. Dr. Stockmann. Oh ! I can do that well enough, for I've finished my morning's work. Mrs. Stockmann. I am very curious to know how he takes it. Dr. Stockmann. You'll see he won't be overpleased that I, and not he himself, have made the discovery. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, aren't you afraid of that, too ? Dr. Stockmann. No ; at bottom you may be sure he'll be glad. But still Peter is so d bly afraid that others besides himself should do anything for the good of the town. 222 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Mrs. Stockmann. Do you know, Thomas, you ought to be kind, and share the honours with him. Couldn't you say it was he that put you on the track Dr. Stockmann. Yes, gladly, for aught I care. If only I can set matters straighter, I \Old MORTEN KIIL peeps in through the further door, looks round inqtiiringly, and speaks slyly.] Morten Kiil. Is it is it true ? Mrs. Stockmann [going towards hini\. Father, is that you? Dr. Stockmann. Hallo ! Father-in-law ; good morning, good morning. Mrs. Stockmann. But do come in. Morten Kiil. Yes, if it's true ; if not, I'm off again. Dr. Stockmann. If what is true ? Morten Kiil. That ridiculous story about the water-works. Now, is it true ? Dr. Stockmann. Why, of course it is. But how did you come to hear of that ? Morten Kiil [coming in\. Petra flew in on her way to school Dr. Stockmann. No ; did she though ? Morten Kiil. Ay, ay and she told me I thought she was only trying to make game of me ; but that is not like Petra either. Dr. Stockmann. No, indeed ; how could you think that ? Morten Kiil. Ah ! one should never trust anybody. You can be made a fool of before you know it. So it is true, after all ? Dr. Stockmann. Most certainly it is. Now just sit down, father-in-law. [.Forces him down on to the so/a.] And isn't it a real blessing for the town ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 223 Morten Kiil \suppressing his laughter\ Blessing for the town ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, that I made the discovery at such a favourable time Morten Kiil [as before'}. Yes, yes, yes ; but I never would have believed you could have played your very own brother such a trick. Dr. Stockmann. Such a trick ! Mrs. Stockmann. But really, dear father Morten Kiil {resting his hands and chin on the top of his stick and winking slyly at tlie doctor\. Now, what is it all about ? Isn't it this way, that some animal has got into the water-pipes ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes ; infusorial animals. Morten Kiil. And a good many of them have got in, Petra says ; quite an enormous number. Dr. Stockmann. Certainly. There may be hundreds of thousands. Morten Kiil. But no one can see them. Isn't that so? Dr. Stockmann. True ; no one can see them. Morten Kiil \with a quiet, chuckling laugh\ I'll be d d if that isn't the best thing I've heard from you. Dr. Stockmann. What do you mean ? Morten Kiil. But you'll never be able to make the Burgo- master believe anything of the sort. Dr. Stockmann. Well, that remains to be seen. Morten Kiil. Do you really think he'll be so foolish ? Dr. Stockmann. I hope the whole town will be so foolish. Morten Kiil. The whole town Well, that may be. But it serves them right ; much good may it do them. They wanted to be so much cleverer than we old fellows. They chivvied me out of the chairmanship of the Board. Yes; I tell you they chivvied me out like a dog, that they did. 224 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. But now it's their turn. Only you keep the game up with them, Stockmann. Dr. Stockmann. Yes; but, father-in-law Morten Kill. Keep it up, I say. [Rising.] If you can make the Burgomaster and his friends pay through the nose, I'll give a hundred crowns straight away for the poor. Dr. Stockmann. Now, that would be good of you. Morten Kill. Yes. I've not got much to throw away, as you know ; but if you do that, I'll give the poor fifty crowns at Christmas. [Enter HovS'A.Dfrom ante-room.] Hovstad. Good morning ! [Pausing.] Oh ! I beg your pardon Dr. Stockmann. Not at all. Come in, come in. Morten Kiil [chuckling again]. He ! Is he in it, too ? Hovstad. What do you mean? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, of course, he's in it. Morten Kiil. I might have known it ! It must be put into the papers. Ah ! you're the right sort, Stockmann. Let them have it. Now I'm off. Dr. Stockmann. Oh no ! Stop a little longer, father-in-law. Morten Kiil. No, I'm off now. Play them as many tricks as you can ; I'll see you don't lose by it. [Exit. MRS. STOCK.UA.NN goes of with him] Dr. Stockmann [laughing]. Only think ! That old fellow won't believe a word about that affair of the water-works. Hovstad. Was that what he ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes; that was what we were talking about. And maybe you've come to do the same. Hovstad. Yes. Have you a moment to spare, doctor ? Dr. Stockmann. As many as you like, old man. Hovstad. Have you heard anything from the Burgomaster ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 225 Dr. Stockmann. Not yet. He'll be here presently. Hovstad. I've been thinking over the matter since last evening. Dr. Stockmann. Well ? Hovstad. To you, as a doctor and a man of science, this business of the water-works is an isolated affair. I fancy it hasn't occurred to you that a good many other things are connected with it. Dr. Stockmann. Yes how? Let's sit down, old fellow No there, on the sofa. [HOVSTAD sits on sofa; the doctor on an easy chair on the other side of the table.] Dr. Stockmann. Well, so you think ? Hovstad. You said yesterday that the bad water is caused by impurities in the soil Dr. Stockmann. Yes, undoubtedly, it is caused by that poisonous swamp up in the mill dale. Hovstad. Excuse me, doctor, but I think it is caused by quite another swamp. Dr. Stockmann. What sort of a swamp may that be ? Hovstad. The swamp our whole municipal life stands and rots in. Dr. Stockmann. Mr. Hovstad, whatever have you got hold of now ? Hovstad. All the affairs of the town have little by little come into the hands of a set of bureaucrats. Dr. Stockmann. Come, now, they're not all bureaucrats. Hovstad. No; but those who are not are their friends and adherents. They are all wealthy men, the bearers of distinguished names in the town ; it is they who control and govern us. Dr. Stockmann. But they are men of ability and shrewdness. 226 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. Did they show their ability and shrewdness when they laid down the water-pipes where they are ? Dr. Stockmann. No ; that was, of course, very stupid of them. But that'll be set right now. Hovstad. Do you think it will be done so smoothly ? DJ. Stockmann. Well, smoothly or not smoothly, it'll have to be done. Hovstad. Yes, if the press takes it up. Dr. Stockmann. Not at all necessary, my dear fellow ; I'm sure my brother Hovstad. Excuse me, doctor, but I want you to know that I think 01 taking up the matter. Dr. Stockmann. In the paper ? Hovstaa. Yes. When I took over the Peoptes Messenger^ I determined that I would break up this ring of obstinate old blockheads who hold everything in their hands. Dr. Slockmann. But you yourself told me what it all ended in. You nearly ruined the paper. Hovstaa. Yes, we had to draw in our horns then, that's true enough. For there was the danger that the Baths wouldn't be started if these men were thrown out. But now matters are different, and now we can do without these gentry. Dr. Stockmann. Do without them, yes ; but still we owe them much. Hovstad. Which shall be paid to the full. But a journalist of such democratic opinions as mine can't let such an opportunity as this slip through his fingers. He must explode the fable of the infallibility of our rulers. Such stuff as this must be got rid of, like every other superstition. Dr. Stockmann. I agree with you there, Mr. Hovstad, with all my heart. If it is a superstition, away with it. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 227 Hovstad. Now, I should be sorry to deal too harshly with the Burgomaster, as he is your brother. But I know you think with me the truth before all other considerations. Dr. Stockmann. Why, of course. But but Hovstad. You mustn't think ill of me. I am neither more obstinate nor more ambitious than most men. Dr. Stockmann. But, my dear fellow, who says you are ? Hovstad. I come from humble folk, as you know, and I have had occasion to see what is wanted by the lower classes of society. And this is, that they should have a share in the direction of public affairs, doctor. This develops power and knowledge and self-respect Dr. Stockmann. I understand that perfectly. Hovstad. Yes, and I think a journalist assumes an immense responsibility when he neglects an opportunity of aiding the masses, the poor, the oppressed. I know well enough that the upper classes will call this stirring up the people, and so forth, but they can do as they please, if only my conscience is clear, I Dr. Stockmann. Just so, just so, dear Mr. Hovstad. But still deuce take it [a knock at the door\. Come in ! \Entet ASLAKSEN, the printer, at the door of the ante-room. He is humbly but neatly dressed in black, wearing a white, slightly crumpled neckerchief, and carrying gloves and a felt hat^ Aslaksen [bowing]. I beg your pardon, doctor, for making so bold Dr. Stockmann [rist'ng]. Hallo ! if it isn't Printer Aslaksen ! Aslaksen. Yes it is, doctor. Hovstad [getting u/\. Do you want me, Aslaksen ? Aslaksen. No, I don't. I didn't know I should meet you here. No, it was for the doctor himself 228 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. Well, what can I do for you ? Aslaksen. Is what I've heard from Mr. Billing true that the doctor is thinking of getting us better water-works ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, for the Baths. Aslaksen. Oh ! yes, I know that. So I came to say that I'll back up the affair with all my might. Hovstad [to the doctor}. You see ! Dr. Stockmann. I'm sure I thank you heartily, but Aslaksen. For it might do you no harm to have us middle- class men at your back. We now form a compact majority in the town when we really make up our minds to. And it's always as well, doctor, to have the majority with you. Dr. Stockmann. That is undoubtedly true, but I can't conceive that any special preparation will be necessary. I think that in so clear and straightforward a matter Aslaksen. Yes. But all the same, it can do no harm ; for I know the local authorities so well. The people in power are not very much inclined to adopt suggestions coming from others. And so I think it wouldn't be amiss if we made some sort of a demonstration. Hovstad. I think so too. Dt. Stockmann. Demonstrate, say you? But what do you want to demonstrate about ? Aslaksen. Of course with great moderation, doctor. I am always in favour of moderation ; for moderation is a citizen's first virtue at least those are my sentiments. Dr. Stockmann. We all know that about you, Aslaksen. Aslaksen. Yes, I think I may claim that much. And this affair of the water-works is so very important for us small middle-class men. The Baths bid fair to become a kind of little gold-mine for the town. And it is through the Baths that the whole lot of us are going to get our living, especially we householders. And so we shall gladly support AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, 229 the Baths all we can. So, as I am Chairman of the House- holders' Association Dr. Stockmann. Well ? Aslaksen. And as I am agent for the Moderation Society of course you know, doctor, that I work on behalf of moderation ? Dr. Stockmann. To be sure, to be sure. Aslaksen. So I naturally meet a great many people. And as I am known to be a temperate and law-abiding citizen, as the doctor himself well knows, I have a certain amount of influence in the town, a position of some authority though I say it that shouldn't. Dr. Stockmann. I know that very well, Mr. Aslaksen. Aslaksen. Well, so you see it would be easy for me to get up an address, if it came to a pinch. Dr. Stockmann. An address? Aslaksen. Yes, a kind of vote of thanks to you, from the citizens of the town, for bringing to light a matter of such importance to the whole community. It goes without saying that it will have to be drawn up with befitting moderation, so that the authorities and persons of position may not be set against it. And if only we are careful about that, no one can take offence, I think. Hovstad. Well, even if they didn't like it particularly Aslaksen. No, no, no ; nothing to offend those in authority, Mr. Hovstad. No opposition to people who/ stand in such close relation to us ; I've never gone in for that in my life ; no good ever comes of it either. But no one can object to the thoughtful, free expression of a citizen's opinion. Dr. Stockmann [shaking his hand]. I can't tell you, dear Mr. Aslaksen, how heartily it delights me to find so much support among my fellow-citizens. I am so happy 2 3 o AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. so happy ! Look here ! Won't you take a drop of sherry ? Eh? Aslaksen. No, thank you; I never take any kind of spirituous drink. Dr. Stockmann. Well, then, a glass of beer what say you to that ? Aslaksen. Thanks ; not that either, doctor. I never take anything so early in the day. But now I'll be off to town, and talk with the householders, and prepare public opinion. Dt. Stockmann. Now, that is extremely good of you, Mr. Aslaksen ; but I can't really get into my head that all these preparations are necessary ; I think the matter will go of itself. Aslaksen. Officials are always very slow, doctor God forbid I should say this by way of accusation Hovstad. To-morrow we'll stir them up in the paper, Aslaksen. Aslaksen. But no violence, Mr. Hovstad. Proceed with moderation, or you'll do nothing with them. You take my advice, for I have gained experience in the school of life. And now I'll say good-morning to the doctor. You know, now, that we small middle-class men, anyhow, stand behind you like a rock. You have the compact majority on your side, doctor. Dt. Stockmann. Many thanks, my dear Mr. Aslaksen. [Holds out his hand.} Good-bye, good-bye. Aslaksen. Are you coming to the printing-office, Mr. Hovstad ? Hovstad. I'll come on presently. I've something to see to first. Aslaksen. All right. [Bows, and goes. DR. STOCKMANN accompanies him into the ante-room.} AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 231 Hovetad [as the doctor re-enters}. Well, what do you say to that, doctor ? Don't you think it is high time we weeded out and got rid of all this apathy and vacillation and cowardice ? Dr. Stockmann. Are you speaking of Aslaksen ? Hovstad. Yes, I am. He is one of those who are in the swamp, though he's a good enough fellow in other things. And so are most of the people here ; they're for ever see- sawing and oscillating from one side to the other, and what with scruples and doubts, they never dare to advance a step. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, but Aslasken seems to me so thoroughly well-intentioned. Hovstad. There is one thing I value more highly ; that is to stand your ground as a trusty, self-reliant man. Dr. Stockmann. There I am quite with you. Hovstad. That's why I am going to seize this opportunity now to see if I can't stir up the well-intentioned among them for once. The worship of authority must be rooted up in this town. This immense, inexcusable blunder of the water-works should be enough to open the eyes of every voter. Dr. Stockmann. Very well ! If you think it is for the good of the community, so let it be ; but not till I've spoken to my brother. Hovstad. Anyhow, I'll be getting ready a leader in the meanwhile. And if the Burgomaster won't go in for it Dr. Stockmann. But how can you imagine such a thing ? Hovstad. It can be imagined well enough. And then Dr. Stockmann. Well then, I promise you ; look here then you may print my paper put it in just as it is. Hovstad. May I really ? Is that a promise ? Dr. Stockmann \handing him MS.}. There it is ; take it 232 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. with you. It can do no harm for you to read it ; and then tell me what you think of it. Hovstad. Thanks, thanks ; I shall do so willingly. And now, good-bye, doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Good-bye, good-bye. Yes, you'll see it will all go smoothly, Mr. Hovstad, so smoothly. Hovstad. Hm ! We shall see. [Bows. Exit through ante-room.] Dr. Stockmann [going to dining-room door and looking iri\. Katrine ! Hallo ! you back, Petra ? Petra [entering]. Yes, I've just got back from school. Mrs. Stockmann [entering]. Hasn't he been here yet ? Dt. Stockmann. Peter? No; but I've been having a long talk with Hovstad. He is quite overwhelmed at my discovery. For, you see, it is much further reaching than I thought at first. And so he has placed his paper at my disposal if occasion requires. Mrs. Stockmann. But do you think you will need it ? Dr. Stockmann. Not I ? But all the same, one is proud to think that the free, independent press is on one's side. Just think ! I've also had a visit from the director of the Householders' Association. Mrs. Stockmann. Really ! And what did he want ? Dr. Stockmann. To offer me support too. Everyone of them will stand by me if there should be any unpleasant- ness. Katrine, do you know what I have behind me ? Mrs. Stockmann. Behind you ? No. What have you behind you ? Dr. Stockmann. The compact majority ! Mrs. Stockmann. Oh ! Is that good for you, Thomas ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, indeed; I should think it was good ! [Rubbing his hands as he walks up and down.'] Ah ! AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 233 by Jove ! what a delight it is to be in such fraternal union with one's fellow-citizens ! Petra. And to do so much good, and be so helpful, father. Dr. Stockmann. And to do it, into the bargain, for one's native town ! Mrs. Stockmann. There's the bell. Dr. Stockmann. That must be he. [Knock at the door.~\ Come in 1 [Enter BURGOMASTER STOCKMANN /ra# the ante-room.] Burgomaster. Good morning. Dr. Stockmann. I'm glad to see you, Peter. Mrs. Stockmann. Good-morning, brother-in-law. How are you ? Burgomaster. Oh, thanks, so, so. [To the doctor.] Yester- day evening, after office hours, I received a dissertation from you concerning the condition of the water connected with the Baths. Dr. Stockmann. Yes. Have you read it ? Burgomaster. I have. Dr. Stockmann. And what do you think of the affair ? Burgomaster. Hm [Glancing at the women.] Mrs. Stockmann. Come, Petra. [She and PETRA go into the room, left. Burgomaster [after a pause]. Was it really necessary to make all those investigations behind my back ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, till I was absolutely certain I Burgomaster. And so you are certain now ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, and I suppose it has convinced you too. Burgomaster. Is it your intention to submit this statement to the Board of Directors as an official document ? 234 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. Of course. Why, something must be done in the matter, and that promptly. Burgomaster. After your wont, brother, you use very strong expressions in your statement. Why, you actually say that what we offer our visitors is a persistent poison ! Dr. Stockmann. But, Peter, can it be called anything else ? Only think poisonous water both internally and externally ! And that for poor sick folk who come to us in good faith, and who pay us heavily to heal them. Burgomaster. And from this you come to the conclusion that we must build a sewer which will carry off all the supposed impurities from the Miller's Dale, and relay all the water-pipes. Dr. Stockmann. Yes. Can you suggest any other altern- ative ? I know of none. Burgomaster. I looked in at the town engineer's this morning, and so half in jest I brought up the subject of these alterations as of a matter we might possibly have to take into consideration at some future time. Dr. Stockmann. Possibly at some future time ! Burgomaster. He smiled at my apparent extravagance naturally. Have you taken the trouble to reflect upon what these proposed alterations would cost? From the information I have received, these expenses would most likely run up to several hundred thousand crowns ! Dr. Stockmann. So much as that ? Burgomaster. Yes. But the worst is to come. The work would take at least two years. Dr. Stockmann. Two years; do you mean to say two whole years ? Burgomaster. At least. And what are we to do in the meanwhile with the Baths ? Are we to close them ? For that is what it would come to. Besides, do you believe AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 235 anyone would come here if the rumour got abroad that the water is injurious to health ? Dr. Stockmann. But, Peter, you know it is injurious. Burgomaster. And all this now, just now, when the Baths are beginning to do well. Neighbouring towns, too, have some idea of establishing Baths. Don't you see that they would at once set to work to divert the full stream of visitors to themselves? It's beyond a doubt! And we should be left stranded ! We should probably have to give up the whole costly undertaking ; and so you would have ruined your native town. Dr. Stockmann. I ruined ! Burgomaster. It is only through the Baths that the town has any future worth speaking of. You surely know that as well as I do. Dr. Stockmann. But what do you think should be done ? Burgomaster. Your statement has not succeeded in con- vincing me that the condition of the water at the Baths is as serious as you represent. Dr. Stockmann. I tell you it is, if anything, worse or will be in the summer, when the hot weather sets in. Burgomaster. The existing supply of water for the Baths is once for all a fact, and must naturally be treated as such. But probably the directors, at some future time, will not be indisposed to take into their consideration whether, by making certain pecuniary sacrifices, it may not be possible to introduce some improvements. Dr. Stockmann. And do you imagine I could agree for a moment to such a deception ? Burgomaster. Deception ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, it would be a deception a fraud, a lie ; an absolute crime against the public, against all society. 236 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Burgomaster, I have not, as I have already remarked, been able to attain the conviction that there is really any such imminent danger. Dr. Stockmann. You have you must have. My demon- stration was so plainly true and right. Of that I am sure ! And you know that perfectly, Peter, only you don't admit it. It was you who insisted that both the Baths and the water- works should be laid out where they now are; and it is that, it is that d d blunder which you won't confess. Pshaw ! Do you think I don't see through you ? Burgomaster. And even if that were so? It, perhaps, I do watch over my reputation with some anxiety, I do it for the good of the town. Without moral authority I cannot guide and direct affairs in such a manner as I deem neces- sary for the welfare of the whole community; Therefore and on various other grounds it is of great moment to me that your statement should not be submitted to the Board of Directors. It must be kept back for the good of all. Later on I will bring up the matter for discussion, and we will do the best we can quietly ; but nothing whatever, not a single word, of this unfortunate business must be made public. Dr. Stockmann. But it can't be prevented now, my dear Peter. Burgomaster. It must and shall be prevented. Dr. Stockmann. It can't be, I tell you ; far too many people know about it already. Burgomaster. Know about it ! Who ? Surely not those fellows on the People's Messenger, who Dr. Stockmann. Oh, yes ! They know, too. The liberal, independent press will take good care you do your duty. Burgomaster [after a short pause]. You are an extremely reckless man, Thomas. Haven't you reflected what the consequences of this may be to yourself ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 237 Dr. Stockmann. Consequences ? Consequences to me ? Burgomaster. Yes to you and yours. Dr. Stockmann. What the devil do you mean ? Burgomaster. I believe I have at all times conducted myself towards you as a useful and helpful brother. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, you have, and I thank you for it. Burgomaster. I ask for nothing. To some extent I had to do this for my own sake. I always hoped I should be able to keep you within certain bounds if I helped to improve your pecuniary position. Dr. Stockmann. What ! So it was only for your own sake ! Burgomaster. To some extent, I say. It is painful for a man in an official position when his nearest relative goes and compromises himself time after time. Dr. Stockmann. And you think I do that ? Burgomaster. Yes, unfortunately, you do, without yourself knowing it. Yours is a turbulent, pugnacious, rebellious spirit. And then you have an unhappy propensity for rushing into print upon every possible and impossible matter. You no sooner hit upon an idea than you must write at once some newspaper article or a whole pamphlet about it. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, but isn't it a citizen's duty, when- ever he has a new idea, to communicate it to the public. Burgomaster. Pshaw ! The public doesn't need new ideas. The public is best served by the good old recognised ideas that they have already. Dr. Stockmann. And you say that thus bluntly ? Burgomaster. Yes, I must speak to you frankly for once. Until now I have tried to avoid it, as I know how irritable you are ; but now I am bound to speak certain truths to 238 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. you, Thomas. You have no conception how much you injure yourself by your rashness. You complain of the authorities, ay, of the government itself you even revile them and maintain you've been slighted, persecuted. But what else can you expect, firebrand that you are. Dr. Stockmann. What next ! So I'm a firebrand, too, am I ? Burgomaster. Yes, Thomas, you are an extremely difficult man to work with. I know it from experience. You set yourself above all considerations ; you seem quite to forget that it is I whom you have to thank for your position here as medical officer of the Baths. Dr. Stockmann. I had a right to it ! I, and no one else ! I was the first to discover that the town might become a flourishing watering-place. I was the only one who saw it then. For years I stood alone struggling for this idea of mine, and I wrote and wrote Burgomaster. No doubt. But then the right time hadn't come. Of course, in that out-of-the-world hole of yours, you were not in a position to judge of that. As soon as the propitious moment came I and others took the matter in hand Dr. Stockmann. Yes, and you bungled the whole of my splendid plan. Oh ! we see now what shining lights you were. Burgomaster. In my opinion we are now seeing that you again need some outlet for your pugnacity. You want to fly in the face of your superiors and that's an old habit of yours. You can't endure any authority over you ; you look jealously upon anyone -who has a higher official post than yourself; you regard him as a personal enemy, and then it's all one to you what kind of weapon you use against him ; one is as good as another. But now I have called your attention to this, to the great interests at stake for the AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 239 town, and consequently for me also. And therefore I tell you, Thomas, that I am inexorable in the demand I am about to make of you ! Dr. Stockmann. And what is this demand ? Burgomaster. As you have been so garrulous in talking about this unpleasant business to outsiders, although it should have been kept an official secret, of course it can't be hushed up. All sorts of rumours will be spread everywhere, and the evil-disposed among us will swell these rumours with all sorts of additions. It will, therefore, be necessary for you to meet these rumours. Dr. Stockmann. I ? How ? I don't understand you. Burgomaster. We venture to expect that after further investigation you will come to the conclusion that the affair is not nearly so dangerous or serious as you had, at the first moment, imagined. Dr. Stockmann. Ah, ha ! So you expect that ! Burgomaster. Furthermore, we shall expect you to have confidence in the Board of Directors, and to express your belief that they will thoroughly and conscientiously carry out all measures for the removal of every shortcoming. Dr. Stockmann. Yes ; but you'll never be able to do that as long as you go on tinkering and patching. I tell you that, Peter, and it is my deepest, most sincere conviction. Burgomaster. As an official, you've no right to have any individual conviction. Dr. Stockmann [starting]. No right to any Burgomaster. As official, I say. In your private capacity, good gracious, that's another matter. But as a subordinate servant of the Baths, you've no right to express any convic- tion at issue with that of your superiors. Dr. Stockmatin. That is going too f ar ! I, a doctor, a man of science, have no right to 240 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Burgomaster. The matter in question is not a purely scientific one ; it is a complex affair ; it is both a technical and an economic matter. Dr. Stockmann. Pshaw ! What's that to me ? What the devil do I care ! I will be free to speak out upon any sub- ject on earth. Burgomaster. As you please. But not a word about the Baths we forbid that. Di. Stockmann [shouting]. You forbid I you ! such fellows Burgomaster, /forbid you that I, your chief; and when I forbid you anything, you'll have to obey. Dr. Stockmann [controlling himself]. Peter, really, if you weren't my brother [PETRA throivs open the door.} Petra. Father, you shall not submit to this ! [MRS. STOCKMANN/0//0w/- her.] Mrs. Stockmann. Petra, Petra! Burgomaster. Ah ! so we've been listening ! Mrs. Stockmann. You spoke so loud ; we couldn't help Petra. Yes, I did stand there and listen. Burgomaster. Well, on the whole, I'm glad Dr. Stockmann [coming nearer to him}. You spoke to me of forbidding and obeying Burgomaster. You forced me to speak to you in that tone. Dr. Stockmann. And have I, in a public declaration, to give myself the lie ? Burgomaster. We consider it absolutely necessary that you should issue a statement in the terms I have requested. Dr. Stockmann. And if I don't obey ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 241 Burgomaster. Then we shall ourselves put forth a state- ment to reassure the public. Dr. Stockmann. Well and good. Then I'll write against you. I hold to my opinion. I shall prove that /am right, and you wrong. And what will you say to that ? Burgomaster. I shall then be unable to prevent your dismissal. Dr. Stockmann. What ! Petra. Father ! Dismissal ! Mrs. Stockmann. Dismissal ! Burgomaster. Your dismissal from the Baths. I shall be obliged to urge that notice be given you at once, in order to dissociate you from everything concerning the Baths. Dr. Stockmann. And you would dare to do that ! Burgomaster. It is you yourself who play the daring game. Petra. Uncle, such treatment ot a man like father is shameful. Mrs. Stockmann. Do be quiet, Petra. Burgomaster [looking at Petra}. Ah, ah ! We already allow ourselves to express an opinion. Of course ! [To Mrs. Stock- mann.'] Sister-in-law, apparently you're the most sensible person in the house. Use all your influence with your husband ; try to make him realise all this will bring with it, both for his family Dr. Stockmann. My family concerns only myself. Burgomaster. Both for his family, I say, and the town in which he lives. Dr. Stockmann. It is I who have the real good of the town at heart. I want to lay bare the evils that, sooner or later, must come to light. Ah ! You shall yet see that I love my native town. Burgomaster. You, who, in your blind obstinacy, want to cut off the town's chief source of prosperity. 5" 242 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. The source is poisoned, man ! Are you mad ? We live by trafficking in filth and garbage. The whole of our developing social life is rooted in a lie ! Burgomaster. Idle fancies or something worse. The man who makes such offensive insinuations against his own native place must be an enemy of society. Dr. Stockmann [going towards him\. And you dare to - Mrs. Stockmann [throwing herself between tJiern\. Thomas ! Petra \seizing her father's arm.] Oh ! hush, father. Burgomaster. I will not expose myself to physical violence. You are warned now. Reflect upon what is due to yourself and to your family. Good-bye. Dr. Stockmann \walking up and down]. And I must bear such treatment ! In my own house. Katrine ! What do you think of it ? Mrs. Stockmann. Indeed, it is a shame and an insult, Thomas - Petra. If only I could give it to uncle - ! Dr. Stockmann. It is my own fault. I ought to have rebelled against them long ago have shown my teeth and made them feel them ! And so he called me an enemy of society. Me ! I will not bear this ; by Heaven, I will not! Mrs. Stockmann. But, dear Thomas, after all, your brother has the power - Dr. Stockmann. Yes, but I have the right ! Mrs. Stockmann. Ah, yes, right, right ! What is the good of being right when you haven't any might ? Petra. Oh mother ! how can you talk so ? Dr. Stockmann. What ! No good in a free society to have right on your side ? You are absurd, Katrine. And AN ENEMY OF SOCJETY. 243 besides, haven't I the free and independent press with me ? The compact majority behind me ? That's might enough, I should think ! Mrs. Stockmann. But, good Heavens! Thomas, you're surely not thinking of . Dr. Stockmann. What am I not thinking of? Mrs. Stockmann. Of setting yourself up against your brother, I mean. Dr. Stockmann. What the devil would you have me do, if I didn't stick to what is right and true ? Petra. Yes, I too would like to know that ? Mrs. Stockmann. But that will be of no earthly use. If they won't they won't Dr. Stockmann. Ho, ho ! Katrine, just wait awhile and you'll see I shall yet get the best of the battle. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, you'll fight them but you'll get your dismissal ; that's what will happen. Dr. Stockmann. Well, then, I shall at any rate have done my duty towards the public, towards society. I to be called an enemy of society ! Mrs. Stockmann. But towards your family, Thomas ? To us here at home ? Don't you think your duty is to those for whom you should provide ? Petra. Ah ! mother, do not always think first and foremost of us. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, it's all very well for you to talk ; if need be you can stand alone. But think of the boys, Thomas, and think a little of yourself too, and of me Dr. Stockmann. But, really, you're quite mad, Katrine. Should I be such a miserable coward as to humble myself to Peter and his damned crew. Should I ever again in all my life have another happy hour ? Mrs. Stockmann. That I cannot say; but God preserve 244 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, us from the happiness we shall all of us have if you remain obstinate. Then you would again be without a livelihood, without any regular income. I think we had enough of that in the old days. Remember them, Thomas ; think of what it all means. Dr. Stockmann [struggling with himself and clenching his hands'}. And such threats this officemonger dares utter to a free and honest man ! Isn't it horrible, Katrine ? Mrs. Stockmann. Yes ; that he is behaving badly to you is certainly true. But, good God ! there is so much injustice to which we must submit here on earth ! Here are the boys. Look at them ! What is to become of them ? Oh ! no, no, you cannot find it in your heart [EjLiF and MORTEN "with school-books have entered meanwhile.'] Dr. Stockmann. The boys ! [Suddenly stands still, firmly and decidedly^ Never, though the whole earth should crumble, will I bend my neck beneath the yoke. [Goes towards his roomJ] Mrs. Stockmann [following him], Thomas, what are you going to do ? Dr. Stockmann [at the door]. I want to have the right to look into my boys' eyes when they are grown men. [Exit into room."] Mrs. Stockmann [bursts into tears']. Ah ! God help and comfort us all ! Petra. Father is brave ! He will not give in ! [The boys ask wonderingly what it all means; PETRA signs to them to be quiet.] AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 245 ACT III. The Editor's Room, " Peoples Messenger. 11 In the flat at the back a door left; to the right another door with glass panes, through which can be seen the printing-room. Another door right of the stage. In the middle of the room a large table covered with papers, newspapers, and books. Lower down left, a window, and by it a writing-desk and high chair. A few arm-chairs around the table; some others along the walls. The room is dingy and cheerless, the furniture shabby, the arm-chairs dirty and torn. Within the printing-room are seen a few compositors ; further within, a hand-press at work. HOVSTAD, the Editor, is seated at the writing-desk. Presently BILLING enters from the right with the doctor's manuscript in his hand. Billing. Well, I must say ! Hovstad \writing\. Have you read it through ? Billing \laying MS. on the desk}. Yes, I should think I had. Hovstad. Don't you think the doctor comes out strong ? Billing. Strong ! God bless me ! he is crushing, that's what he is. Every word falls like a lever I mean like the blow of a sledge-hammer. Hovstad. Yes, but these folk don't fall at the first blow. Billing. True enough, but we'll keep on hammering away, blow after blow, till the whole lot of aristocrats come crashing down. As I sat in there reading that, I seemed to hear the revolution thundering afar. Hovstad \turning round}. Sh ! Don't let Aslaksen hear anything of that sort 246 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Billing \in a lower voice]. Aslaksen is a weak-kneed, cowardly fellow, who hasn't any manhood about him. But this time surely you'll insist on having your own way. Hm ? You'll print the doctor's paper ? Hovstad. Yes, if only the Burgomaster doesn't give way I Billing. That would be d d unpleasant. Hovstad. Well, whatever happens, fortunately we can turn the situation to our account. If the Burgomaster won't agree to the doctor's proposal, he'll have all the small middle-class against him all the Householders' Association, and the rest of them. And if he does agree to it, he'll fall out with the whole crew of big shareholders in the Baths, who, until now, have been his main support Billing. Ah ! yes, yes ; for it's certain they'll have to fork out a pretty heavy sum Hovstad. You may take your oath of that. And then, don't you see, the ring will be broken up, and we shall day by day show the public that the Burgomaster is utterly unfit in all respects, and that all positions of trust in the town, the whole municipal government, must be placed in the hands of persons of liberal ideas. Billing. God bless me, but that's strikingly true. I see it, I see it. We are on the eve of a revolution ! [A knock at the door.] Hovstad. Sh \callsJ\ Come in ! [Dr. Stockmann enters from flat left, Hovstad going towards him.] Ah ! here's the doctor. Well ? Dr. Stockmann. Print away, Mr. Hovstad. Hovstad. Is it to go in just as it is ? Billing. Hurrah ! Dr. Stockmann. Print away, I tell you. Of course it is to AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 247 go in as it is. Since they will have it so, they shall ! Now, there'll be war in the town, Mr. Billing 1 Billing. War to the knife is what I want to the knife, to the death, doctor ! Dr. Stockmann. This article is only the beginning. My head's already full of plans for four or five other articles. But where do you stow away Aslaksen ? Billing [calling into the 1>rinting-room\. Aslaksen ! just come here a moment. Hovstad, Did vou say four or five more articles ? On the same subject ? Dr. Stockmann. Heaven forbid, my dear fellow. No ; they deal with quite different matters. But they all arise out of the water-works and the sewers. One thing leads to another, you know. It is like beginning to shake an old house, exactly the same. Billing. God bless me, that's true I And you can never do any good till you've pulled down the whole rubbish. Aslaksen \enters from printing-room\. Pulled down ! Surely the doctor is not thinking of pulling down the Baths ? Hovstad. Not at all ! Don't be alarmed. Dr. Stockmann. No, we were talking of something quite different. Well, what do you think of my article, Mr. Hovstad ? Hovstad. I think it is simply a masterpiece Dr. Stockmann. Yes, isn't it? That does please me, that does please me. Hovstad. It is so clear and to the point. One doesn't in the least need to be a specialist in order to understand the reasoning. I am sure every intelligent, honest man will be on your side. Aslaksen. And let us hope all the prudent ones too. 248 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, Billing. Both the prudent and imprudent indeed, I think well-nigh the whole town. Aslaksen. Well, then, we may venture to print it. Dr. Stockmann. I should think you could ! Hovstad. It shall go in to-morrow. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, plague take it, not one day must be lost. Look here, Aslaksen, this is what I wanted you for. You, personally, must take charge of the MS. Aslaksen. Certainly I will. Dr. Stockmann. Be as careful as if it were gold. No printers' errors, every word is important. I'll look in again presently ; then I can make any small corrections. Ah ! I can't say how I long to see the thing in print to hurl it forth Billing. To hurl it yes, like a thunderbolt ! Dr. Stockmann. And to submit it to the judgment of every intelligent fellow-citizen. Ah ! you've no idea what I've had to put up with to-day. I've been threatened with all sorts of things. I was to be robbed of my most inalienable rights as a man. Billing. What ! Your rights as a man ! Dr. Stockmann. I was to be humbled, made a coward of, was to set my personal gain above my deepest, holiest convictions Billing. God bless me ! that is really too bad. Hovstad. Well, just what was to be expected from that quarter. Dr. Stockmann. But they'll get the worst of it, I can promise them. Henceforth, every day I'll throw myself into the breach in the Messenger^ bombard them with one article after another Aslaksen. Yes, but look here Billing. Hurrah ! There'll be war, there'll be war ! AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 249 Dr. S'ockmann. I will smite them to the earth. I will crush them, level all their entrenchments to the ground before the eyes of all right-thinking men. I'll do it. Aslaksen. But all the same be reasonable, doctor; pro- ceed with moderation Billing. Not at all, not at all, don't spare for dynamite. Dr. Stockmann [going on imperturbably\ For remember that henceforth it is not merely a question of water-works and sewers. No, the whole ot society must be cleansed, disinfected Billing, There sounded the word of salvation ! Dr. Stockmann. All the old bunglers must be got rid of, you understand. And that in every department ! Such endless vistas have opened out before me to-day. It was not all clear to me until now, but now I will right every- thing. It is the young, vigorous banner-bearers we must seek, my friends ; we must have new captains for all the outposts. Billing. Hear, hear ! Dr. Stockmann. And if only we hold together all will go so smoothly, so smoothly! The whole revolution will be only like the launching of a ship. Don't you think so ? Hovstad. For my part, I believe we have now every prospect of placing our municipal affairs in the hands of those to whom they rightly belong. Aslaksen. And if only we proceed with moderation, I really don't think there can be any danger. Dr. Stockmann. Who the devil cares whether there's danger or not ? What I do, I do in the name of truth and for conscience sake. Hovstad. You are a man deserving of support, doctor. Aslaksen. Yes, that's certain. The doctor is a true friend to the town j he is a sincere friend of society. 250 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Billing. God bless me ! Dr. Stockmann is a friend of the people, Aslaksen. Aslaksen. I think the Householders' Association will soon adopt that expression. Dr. Stockmann [shaking their hands, deeply moved\. Thanks, thanks, my dear, faithful friends, it does me good to hear you. My fine brother called me something very differ- ent just now. I'll pay him back with interest, though ! But I must be off now to see a poor devil. I'll look in again, as I said. Be sure to take good care of the MS., Mr. Aslaksen, and on no account leave out any of my notes of exclamation ! Rather put in a few more. Well, good-bye for the present, good-bye, good-bye. [Mutual salutations while they accompany him to the door. Exit.} Hovstad. He'll be of invaluable service to us. Aslaksen. Yes, so long as he confines himself to the Baths. But if he goes further, it might not be advisable to go with him. Hovstad. Hm ! Well, that depends Billing. You're always so d d afraid, Aslaksen. Aslaksen. Afraid? Yes, when it is a question of attacking local magnates, I am afraid, Mr. Billing ; that, let me tell you, I have learnt in the school of experience. But go for higher politics, attack the government itself, and you'll see if I'm afraid. Billing. Oh ! no, but that's where you contradict yourself. Aslaksen. The fact is, I am a conscientious man. If you attack governments, you at least do society no harm, for the men attacked don't care a hang about it, you see ; they stay where they are. But local authorities can be turned out, and thus a lot of know-nothings come to the front, and do no end of harm both to householders and others. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 251 Hovstad. But the education of citizens by self-government what do you think si that 1 Aslaksen. When a man has anything to look after, he can't think of everything, Mr. Hovstad. Hovstad. Then I hope I may never have anything to look after. Billing. Hear, hear! Aslaksen [smiting], Hm ! (Pointing to desk.] Governor Stensgaard* sat in that editor's chair before you. Hilling [spitting]. Pooh ! A turncoat like that 1 Hovstad. I'm no weather-cock and never will be. Aslaksen. A politician must not swear to anything on earth, Mr. Hovstad. And as to you, Mr. Billing, you ought to take in a reef or two one of these days, since you're running for the .post of secretary to the magistracy. Billing. I ! Hovstad. Are you really, Billing ? Billing. Well, yes but, deuce take it, you know, I'm only doing so to annoy these wiseacres. Aslaksen. Well, that doesn't concern me. But if I am called cowardly and inconsistent I should like to point out this : Printer Aslaksen's past is open to everyone's inspection. I have not changed at all, except that I am perhaps more moderate. My heart still belongs to the people, but I do not deny that my reason inclines somewhat towards the authorities at least to the local authorities. \Exit into printing-room^ Billing Don't you think we ought to get rid of him, Hovstad ? * This is the only case in which Ibsen introduces persons who have appeard in earlier plays. Aslaksen figures in "De Unges Forbund" (The Young Men's League), of which play Stensgaard is the central character. See Introduction. 252 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. Do you know of anyone else that'll advance money for the paper and printing ? Billing. It's a d d nuisance not having the necessary capital. Hovstad {sitting down by desk~\. Yes, if we only had that Billing. Suppose you applied to Dr. Stockmann ? Hovstad [turning over his papers]. What would be the good ? He has nothing himself. Billing. No ; but he has a good man behind him old Morten Kiil the " badger," as they call him. Hovstad [writing']. Are you so sure he has anything? Billing. Yes ; God bless me, I know it for certain. And part of it will certainly go to Stockmann's family. He is sure to think of providing for them anyhow, for the children. Hovstad [half turning']. Are you counting on that? Billing. Counting? Of course I don't count upon anything. Hovstad. You're right there 1 And that post of secretary you shouldn't in the least count upon ; for I can assure you you won't get it. Billing. Do you think I don't know that as well as you ? Indeed, I'm glad I shall not get it. Such a rebuff fires one's courage ; gives one a fresh supply of gall, and one needs that in a god-forsaken place like this, where any excitement is so rare. Hovstad [writing'}. Yes, yes. Billing. Well they'll soon hear of me ! Now I'll go and draw up the Appeal to the Householders' Association. [Exit into room /?.] Hovstad [sitting by desk, gnawing his pen, says slowly]. Hm ! Yes, that'll do. [A knock at the door.} Come in. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 253 [PETRA enters from the door L. in flat. HOVSTAD rising.] What ! Is it you ? Here ? Petra. Yes ; please excuse me Hovstad [offering her an arm-chair\. Won't you sit down ? Petra. No, thanks ; I must be off again directly. Hovstad. I suppose it's something your father Petra. No. I've come on my own account. \Takes a book from the pocket of her cloak.'] Here's that English story. Hovstad. Why have you brought it back ? Petra. I won't translate it. Hovstad. But you promised so faithfully Petra. Yes ; but then I hadn't read it. And no doubt you've not read it either. Hovstad. No ; you know I can't read English, but Petra. Exactly ; and that's why I wanted to tell you that you must find something else. [Putting book on table.~\ This can't possibly go into the Messenger. Hovstad. Why not ? Petra. Because it is in direct contradiction to your own opinions. Hovstad. Well, but for the sake of the cause Petra. You don't understand me yet. It is all about a supernatural power that looks after the so-called good people here on earth, and turns all things to their advantage at last, and all the bad people are punished. Hovstad. Yes, but that's very fine. It's the very thing the public like. Petra. And would you supply the public with such stuff? Why, you don't believe one word of it yourself. You know well enough that things don't really happen like that. Hovstad. You're right there ; but an editor can't always 254 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. do as he likes. He often has to yield to public opinion in small matters. After all, politics is the chief thing in life at any rate for a newspaper; and if I want the people to follow me along the path of emancipation and progress, I mustn't scare them away. If they find such a moral story down in the cellar,* they're much more willing to stand what is printed above it they feel themselves safer. Petra. For shame ! You wouldn't be such a hypocrite, and weave a web to ensnare your readers. You are not a spider. Hovstad \smiling\. Thanks for your good opinion of me. No. That's Billing's idea, not mine. Petra. Billing's! Hovstad. Yes. At least he said so the other day. It was Billing who was so anxious to get the story into the paper ; I don't even know the book. Petra. But how Billing, with his advanced views Hovstad. Well, Billing is many-sided. He's running for the post of secretary to the magistracy, I hear. Petra. I don't believe that, Hovstad. How could he condescend to such a thing ? Hovstad. Well, that you must ask him. Petra. I could never have thought that of Billing. Hovstad [looking fixedly at her\. No ? Does that come as a revelation to you ? Petra. Yes. And yet perhaps not. Ah! I don't know. Hovstad. We journalists aren't worth much, Miss Petra. Petra. Do you really think that ? Hovstad. I think so, sometimes. Petra. Yes, in the little everyday squabbles that I can * The reference is to the continental plan ; the feuilleton is separated from the main body of the page by a line. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 255 understand But now that you have taken up a great cause Hovstad. You mean that affair of your father's ? Petra. Exactly. But now I should think you must feel yourself worth more than the common herd. Hovstad. Yes, to-day I do feel something of that sort. . Petra. Yes, don't you feel that ? Ah ! it is a glorious career you have chosen. Thus to clear the way for despised truths and new ideas to stand forth fearlessly on the side of a wronged man Hovstad. Especially when this wronged man is hm ! I hardly know how to put it. Petra. You mean when he is so true and honest. Hovstad \in a low voice], I mean when he is your father Petra [as if she had received a blow]. That 9 Hovstad. Yes, Petra Miss Petra. Petra. So that is what you think of first and foremost ? Not the cause itself? Not the truth? Not father's big, warm heart ? Hovstad. Yes, of course, that as well. Petra. No, thank you ; you've just let the cat out of the bag, Mr. Hovstad. Now I shall never trust you again in anything. Hovstad. Can you reproach me because it is chiefly for your sake ? Petra. What I am angry with you for is that you have not acted honestly towards my father. You told him it was only the truth and the good of the community you cared about. You have fooled both father and me. You are not the man you pretend to be. And I shall never forgive you never ! 256 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. You should not say that so hardly, Miss Petra not now. Petra. Why not now ? Hovstad. Because your father can't do without my help. Petra [looking scornfully at hint]. And that is what you are ! Oh, shame ! Hovstad. No, no. I spoke thoughtlessly. You must not believe that. Petra. I know what to believe. Good-bye. [ASLAKSEN enters from printing-room, hurriedly and mys- teriously^ Aslaksen. Plague take it, Mr. Hovstad [seeing PETRA] Sh ! that's awkward. Petra. Well, there's the book. You must give it to some- one else. [Going towards main door.~\ Hovstad [following her\. But, Miss Petra Petra. Good-bye. \Exit^\ Aslaksen. I say, Mr. Hovstad ! Hovstad. Well, what is it? Aslaksen. The Burgomaster is out there, in the printing- office. Hovstad. The Burgomaster? Aslaksen. Yes. He wants to speak to you ; he came in by the back door he didn't want to be seen. Hovstad. What's the meaning of this ? Don't go. I will myself [Goes towards printing-room, opens the door, and bows as the Burgomaster enters.] Take care, Aslaksen, that Aslaksen. I understand. [Exit into printing-room.] Burgomaster. You didn't expect to see me here, Mr. Hovstad. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 257 Hovstad. No, I can't say I did. Burgomaster [looking about him~\. Why, you've arranged everything most comfortably here; quite charming. Hovstad. Oh! Burgomaster. And I've come, without any sort of notice, to occupy your time. Hovstad. You are very welcome; I am quite at your service. Let me take your cap and stick. [He does so, and puts them on a chair."] And won't you sit down? Burgomaster [sitting down by table]. Thanks. [Hovstad also sits down by table.~\ I have been much very much annoyed to-day, Mr. Hovstad. Hovstad. Indeed? Oh, yes! With all your various duties, Burgomaster Burgomaster. To-day I've been worried by the doctor. Hcvslad. You don't say so ? The doctor ? Burgomaster. He's been writing a sort of statement to the directors concerning certain supposed shortcomings of the Baths. Hovstad. No, has he really ? Burgomaster. Yes; hasn't he told you? I thought he said Hovstad. Oh, yes, so he did. He said something about it. Aslaksen [from the office]. Wherever is the MS ? Hovstad [in a tone of vexation]. Hm ? There it is on the desk. Aslaksen [finding if]. All right. Jlurgomaster. Why, that is it Aslaksen. Yes, that's the doctor's paper, Burgomaster. Hovstad. Oh ! was that what you were speaking of ? Burgomaster. The very same. What do you think of it? 51* 258 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. I'm not a professional man, and I've only glanced at it. Burgomaster. And yet you are going to print it ? Hovstad. I can't very well refuse so distinguished a man Aslaksen. I have nothing to do with the editing of the paper, Burgomaster. Burgomaster. Of course not. Aslaksen. I merely print whatever comes into my hands. Burgomaster. That's as it should be. Aslaksen. So I must \Goes towards printing-room^ Burgomaster. No, stay one moment, Mr. Aslaksen. With your permission, Mr. Hovstad Hovstad. By all means, Burgomaster. Burgomaster. You are a discreet and thoughtful man, Mr. Aslaksen. Aslaksen. I'm glad to hear you say so, Burgomaster. Burgomaster. And a man of considerable influence. Aslaksen. Chiefly among the small middle-class. Burgomaster. The small taxpayers are the most numerous here as everywhere. Aslaksen. That's true enough. Burgomaster. But I do not doubt that you know what the feeling of most of them is. Isn't that so ? Aslaksen. Yes, I think I may say that I do, Burgo- master. Burgomaster. Well if there is such a praiseworthy spirit of self-sacrifice among the less wealthy citizens of the town, I Aslaksen. How so ? Hovstad. Self-sacrifice ? Burgomaster. It is an excellent sign of public spirit a most excellent sign. I was near saying I should not have AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 259 expected it. But, of course, you know public feeling better than I do. Aslakstn. Yes, but, Burgomaster Burgomaster. And assuredly it is no small sacrifice that the town is about to make, Hovstad* The town ? Aslaksen. But I don't understand it's about* the Baths Burgomaster. According to a preliminary estimate, the alterations considered necessary by the doctor will come to several hundred thousand crowns. Aslaksen. That's a large sum ; but Burgomaster. Of course we shall be obliged to raise a municipal loan. Hovstad \rising\. You don't mean to say that the town ? Asaksen. To be paid out of the rates? Out of the needy pockets of the small middle-class ? Burgomaster. Yes, my excellent Mr. Aslaksen, where should the funds come from? Aslaksen. That's the business of the shareholders who own the Baths. Burgomaster. The shareholders of the Baths are not in a position to go to further expense. Aslaksen. Are you quite sure of that, Burgomaster ? Burgomaster. I have assured myself on the matter. So that if these extensive alterations are to be made, the town itself will have to bear the costs. Aslaksen. Oh, d n it all ! I beg your pardon ! but this is quite another matter, Mr. Hovstad. Hovstad. Yes, it certainly is. Burgomaster. The worst of it is, that we shall be obliged to close the establishment for some two years. 260 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. To close it ? To close it completely ? Aslaksen. For two years ! Burgomaster. Yes, the work will require that time at least. Aslaksen. But, d n it all ! we can't stand that, Burgo- master. What are we householders to live on meanwhile ? Burgomaster. Unfortunately, that's extremely difficult to say, Mr. Aslaksen. But what would you have us do ? Do you think a single visitor will come here if we go about trying to persuade them into fancying the waters are poisoned, and that we are living on a pest ground, and the whole town Aslaksen. And it is all nothing but fancy ? Burgomaster. With the best intentions of the world, I've not been able to convince myself that it is anything else. Aslaksen. But then it is quite inexcusable of Dr. Stock- mann I beg your pardon, Burgomaster, but Burgomaster. You are, unhappily, only speaking the truth, Mr. Aslaksen. Unfortunately, my brother has always been a headstrong man. Aslaksen. And yet you are willing to support him in such a matter, Mr. Hovstad ! Hovstad. But who could possibly have imagined that Burgomaster. I have drawn up a short statement of the facts, as they appear from a sober-minded point of view. And in it I have hinted that various unavoidable draw- backs may be remedied by measures compatible with the finances of the Baths. Hovstad. Have you the paper with you, Burgomaster ? Burgomaster [searching in his pocket s\ Yes; I brought it with me in case you Aslaksen \guickly\ D n it, there he is ! Burgomaster. Who ? My brother ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 261 Hovstad. Where, where ? Aslaksen. He's coming through the printing-room. Burgomaster. What a nuisance ! I should not like to meet him here, and yet there are several things I want to talk to you about Hovstad [pointing to door L.}. Go in there for a moment Burgomaster. But ? Hovstad. You'll only find Billing there. Aslaksen. Quick, quick, Burgomaster, he's just coming. Burgomaster. Very well. But see that you get rid of him quickly. [Exit door L., "which ASLAKSEN opens, bowing.} Hovstad. Be busy doing something, Aslaksen. [He sits down and writes. ASLAKSEN turns over a heap of newspapers on a chair R.} Dr. Stockmann [entering from printing-room}. Here I am, back again ! [Puts down his hat and stick.} Hovstad [writing}. Already, doctor? Make haste, Aslaksen. We've no time to lose to-day. Dr. Stockmann [to Aslaksen}. No proofs yet, I hear. Aslaksen [without turning round}. No ; how could you think there would be ? Dr. Stockmann. Of course not; but you surely under- stand that I am impatient. I can have no rest or peace until I see the thing in print. Hovstad. Hm ! It'll take a good hour yet. Don't you think so, Aslaksen ? Aslaksen. I am almost afraid it will. Dr. Stockmann. All right, all right, my good friends ; then I'll look in again. I don't mind coming twice on such an errand. So great a cause the welfare of the whole town ; upon my word, this is no time to be idle. [Just going y but 262 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. stops and comes back."] Oh ! look here, there's one other thing; I must talk to you about. Hovstad. Excuse me. Wouldn't some other time Dr. Stockmann. I can tell you in two words. You see it's only this. When people read my statement in the paper to-morrow, and find I've spent the whole winter silently working for the good of the town Hovstad. Yes ; but, doctor Dr. Stockmann. I know what you would say. You don't think it was a d d bit more than my duty my simple duty as a citizen. Of course I know that, just as well as you do. But you see, my fellow-citizens good Lord ! the kindly creatures think so much of me Aslaksen. Yes, your fellow-citizens did think very highly of you till to-day, doctor. Dt. Stockmann. And that's exactly what I'm afraid of, that this is what I wanted to say: when all this comes to them especially to the poorer class as a summons to take the affairs of the town into their own hands for the future Hovstad [rising], Hm, doctor, I will not conceal from you Dr. Stockmann. Aha ! I thought there was something a-brewing ! But I won't hear of it. If they're going to get up anything Hovstad. How so ? Dr. Stockmann. Well, anything of any sort, a procession with banners, or a banquet, or a subscription for a testi- monial or whatever it may be, you must give me your solemn promise to put a stop to it. And you too, Mr. Aslaksen ; do you hear ? Hovstad. Excuse me, doctor; we might as well tell you the whole truth first, as last AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 263 [Enter MRS. STOCKMANN.] Mrs. Stockmann [seeing the doctor}. Ah 1 just as I thought ! Hovstad [going towards her}. Hallo ! Your wife, too ? Dr. Stockmann. What the devil have you come here for, Katrine ? Mrs. Stockmann. I should think you must know well enough what I've come for. Hovstad. Won't you sit down ? Or can ? Mrs. Stockmann. Thanks ; please do not trouble. And you mustn't be vexed with me for coming here to fetch Stockmann, for you must bear in mind I'm the mother of three children. Dr. Stockmann. Stuff and nonsense ! We all know that well enough ! Mrs. Stockmann. It doesn't look as if you were thinking very much about your wife and children to-day, or you'd not be so ready to plunge us all into misfortune. Dr. Stockmann. Are you quite mad, Katrine ! Mustn't a man with a wife and children proclaim the truth, do his utmost to be a useful and active citizen, do his duty by the town he lives in ? Mrs. Stockmann. Everything in moderation, Thomas. Aslakscn. That's just what I say. Moderation in all things. Mrs. Stockmann. And you are wronging us, Mr. Hovstad, when you entice my husband away from his house and home, and befool him with all this business. Hovstad. I am not aware I have befooled anyone in Dr. Stockmann. Befool ! Do you think I should let myself be made a fool of? Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, but you do. I know well that 264 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. you are the cleverest man in the town, but you so easily allow yourself to be taken in, Thomas. \To HOVSTAD.] And only think, he will lose his post at the Baths if you print what he has written. Aslaksen. What ! Hovstad. Yes, but you know, doctor Dr. Stockmann \laughin *\. Ha ha ! just let them try ! No, no, my dear, they daren't do it ! I've the compact majority behind me, you see. Mrs. Stockmann. That's just the misfortune that you have such an awful thing behind you. Dr. Stockmann. Nonsense, Katrine ; you get home and see after the house, and let me take care of society. How can you be so afraid when I am so confident and happy. \Rubbing his hands and walking up and down.} Truth and the people must win the day ; that you may be sure. Ah ! I see the independent citizens gathering together as in triumphant host 1 {Stopping by chair.} Why, what the devil is that ? Aslaksen [looking at it\. Oh, Lord ! Hovstad [the same]. Hm ! Dr. Stockmann. Why, here's the top-knot of authority 1 \He takes the Burgomaster's official cap carefully between the tips of his fingers and holds it tfp.~\ Mrs. Stockmann. The Burgomaster's cap ! Dr. Stockmann. And here's the staff of office, too ! But how the deuce did they Hovstad. Well then Dr. Stockmann. Ah ! I understand. He's been here to talk you over. Ha ! ha ! He brought his pigs to the wrong market ! And when he caught sight of me in the printing-room \bursts out Iaughing\ he took to his heels, Mr. Aslaksen ? AN ENEM Y OF SOCIETY. 265 Aslaksen [hurriedly]. Exactly ; he took to his heels, doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Took to his heels without his stick and . Fiddle, faddle ! Peter didn't make off without his belongings. But what the devil have you done with him ? Ah ! in there, of course. Now you shall see, Katrine ! Mrs. Stockmann. Thomas, I beg you ! Aslaksen. Take care, doctor ! [DR. STOCKMANN has put the Burgomaster's cap on and taken his stick : then he goes ub, throws open the door, and makes a military salute. The Burgomaster enters^ red with anger. Behind him enters BILLING.] Burgomaster. What is the meaning of this folly ? Dr. Stockmann. Be respectful, my good Peter. Now, it is I who am the highest authority in the town. [He struts up and down.] Mrs. Stockmann [almost crying~\. But really, Thomas ! Burgomaster [following him\. Give me my cap and stick! Dr. Stockmann [as before\. If you are the chief of police, I am the Burgomaster. I am master of the whole town, I tell you ! Burgomaster. Put down my cap, I say. Remember it is the official cap. Dr. Stockmann. Pish ! Do you think the awakening leonine people will allow themselves to be scared by an official cap? For you will see, we are going to have a revolution in the town to-morrow. You threatened to dismiss me, but now I dismiss you dismiss you from all your offices of trust. You think I cannot do it ? Oh, yes, I can ! I have the irresistible force of society with me. Hovstad and Billing will thunder forth in the People's 266 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Messenger^ and printer Aslaksen will come forward at the head of the whole Householders' Association Aslaksen. I shall not, doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Surely you will Burgomaster. Ah ha ! Perhaps Mr. Hovstad is going to join the agitation ? Hovstad. No, Burgomaster. Aslaksen. No, Mr. Hovstad is'nt such a fool as to ruin both himself and the paper for the sake of a fancy. Dr. Stockmann [looking about hini\. What does all this mean ? Hovstad. You have represented your case in a false light, doctor; and therefore I am not able to give you my support. Billing. And after what the Burgomaster has been so kind as to tell me in there, I Dr. Stockmann. In a false light ! Charge me with that, if you will, only print my paper ; I am man enough to Stand by it. Hovstad. I shall not print it. I cannot, and will not, and dare not print it. Dr. Stockmann. You dare not ? What nonsense ! You're editor, and I suppose it is the editor that directs his paper. Aslaksen. No, it's the readers, doctor. Billing. Luckily, it is. Aslaksen. It is public opinion, the enlightened people, the householders, and all the rest. It is they who direct a paper. Dr. Stockmann \guietly\ And all these powers I have against me ? Aslaksen. Yes, you have. It would be absolute ruin for the townspeople if your paper were printed. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 267 Dr. Stockmann. So ! Burgomaster. My hat and stick. [DR. STOCKMANN takes off his cap and lays it on the table. Ihe Burgomaster takes them both.] Your magisterial authority has come to an untimely end. Dr. Stockmann. The end is not yet. [To HOVSTAD.] So it is quite impossible to print my paper in the Messenger. Hovstad. Quite impossible; and for the sake of your family Mrs. Stockmann. Oh ! please leave his family out of the question, Mr. Hovstad. Burgomaster [takes a manuscript from his jacket '.] This will be sufficient to enlighten the public, if you will print this : it is an authentic statement. Thanks. Hovstad [taking MS.]. Good ! I'll see it is inserted at once. Dr. Stockmann. And not mine ! You imagine you can silence me and the truth ! But it won't be as easy as you think. Mr. Aslaksen, will you be good enough to print my MS. at once as a pamphlet at my own cost on my own responsibility. I'll take five hundred copies no, I'll have six hundred. Aslaksen. No. If you offered me its weight in gold I should not dare to lend my press to such a purpose, doctor. I must not, for the sake of public opinion. And you'll not get that printed anywhere in the whole town. Dr. Stockmann. Then give it me back. JJovstad [handing him MS.]. By all means. Dr. Stockmann [taking up his hat and cane]. It shall be made public all the same. I'll read it at a mass meeting j all my fellow-citizens shall hear the voice of truth ! 268 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Burgomaster. There's not a society in the whole town that would let you their premises for such a purpose. Aslaksen. Not a single one, I am certain. Billing. No, God bless me, I should think not ! Mrs. Stockmann. That would be too shameful ! But why are all these men against you ? Dr. Stockmann \angrily]. Ah! I'll tell you. It is because in this town all the men are old women like you. They all think only of their families, and not of the general good. Mrs. Stockmann [taking his arni\. Then I will show them how an an old woman can be a man, for once in a way. For now I will stand by you, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. Bravely said, Katrine ! For on my soul the truth will out. If I can't make them let any hall, I'll hire a drum, and I'll march through the town with it ; and I'll read my paper at every street corner. Burgomaster. Surely you're not such an arrant fool as all that ? Dr. Stockmann. I am. Aslaksen. There's not a single man in the whole town who would go with you. Billing. No, God bless me, that there isn't. Mrs. Stockmann. Do not give in, Thomas. I will send the boys with you. Dr. Stockmann. That's a splendid idea ! Mrs. Stockmann. Morten will be so pleased to go ; Ejlif will go too he too. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, and so will Petra. And you your- self, Katrine ! Mrs. Stockmann. No, no, not I. But I'll stand. at the window and watch you that I will do gladly. Dr. Stockmann [throwing his arms about her and kissing AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 269 her]. Thanks, thanks. Now, my good sirs, we are ready for the fight ! Now, we'll see if cowardice can close the mouth of a patriot who labours only for the common weal. [He and his -wife go out together through door L. inflat?\ Burgomaster [shaking his head doubtfully]. Now he's sent her mad too ! ACT IV. A large old-fashioned room in CAPTAIN HORSTER's house. An open folding-door in the background leads to an ante-room. 7hree -windows, left. About the middle of the opposite ivall is a smah platform seat, and on it a small table, two candles, a bottle oj water, and a bell. The rest of the room is lighted by sconces placed between the windows. Left, neat the front of the stage, is a table with a light on it, and by it a chair. In front, to the right, a door, and near it a few chairs. Large meeting of all classes of townsfolk. In the crowd are a few women and school-boys. More and more people stream in, until the room is qiiite full. \st Citizen [to another standing near him\. So you're here too, Lamstad ? 2nd Citizen. I always go to every meeting. A Bystander. I suppose you've brought your whistle ? 2nd Citizen. Of course I have : haven't you ? yd Citizen. Rather. And Skipper Evensen said he should bring a great big horn. znd Citizen. What a fellow that Evensen is 1 [Laughter among the groups of Citizens.'] 270 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. ^th Citizen [joining them."\ I say, what's it all about? What's going on here to-night ? 2nd Citizen. Why, it's Dr. Stockmann who is going to give a lecture against the Burgomaster. 4//& Citizen. But the Burgomaster's his brother. ist Citizen. That doesn't matter. Dr. Stockmann isn't afraid, he isn't. yd Citizen. But he's all wrong ; they said so in the People's Messenger. 2nd Citizen. Yes, he must be wrong this time, for neither the Householders' Association nor the Citizens' Club would let him have a hall. i sf Citizen. They wouldn't even let him have a hall at the Baths. 2nd Citizen. No, you may be sure they wouldn't. A Man [in another group]. Now, whom are we to go with in this affair ? Hm ! Another Man [in the same group]. You just stick to Printer Aslaksen, and do what he does. Billing \with a portfolio writing-case under his arm, makes his way through the crowd]. Excuse me, gentlemen. Will you allow me to pass ? I am going to report for the Messenger. A thousand thanks. [Sits by table L.] A Working-man. Who's he ? Another Working-man. Don't you know him? That's Billing, who writes for Aslaksen's paper. [CAPTAIN HORSTER enters, leading in MRS. STOCKMANN and PETRA by the right-hand door. EJLIF and MORTEN^/W/OW them.] Horsier. I think you'll all be comfortable here. You can easily slip out if anything should happen. Mrs. Stockmann. Do you think there will be any trouble ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 271 Horsier. One can never tell with such a crowd. But do sit down, and don't be anxious. Mrs. Stockmann \sitting down]. Ah ! it was good of you to let Stockmann have this room. Horsier. Well, as no one else would, I Pctra [who has also seated herself}. And it was brave too, Horster. Horsier. Shouldn't think it needed much courage. [HOVSTAD and ASLAKSEN enter at the same moment, but make their way through the crowd separately^] Aslaksen [going towards Horsier]. Hasn't the doctor come yet ? Horster. He's waiting in there. [Movement at the door in the background.] Hcvsiad [to Billing], There's the Burgomaster, look ! Billing. Yes, God bless me, if he has'nt come to the fore after all ! BURGOMASTER STOCKMANN makes his way blandly through the meeting^ bows politely, and stands by the wall L. Im- mediately after, DR. STOCKMANN enters from \st R. Entrance. He is carefully dressed in frock-coat and white waist-coat. Faint applause, met by a subdued hiss. Then silence, ,] Dr. Stockmann [in a low tone}. Well, how do you feel, Katrine ? Mrs. Stockmann. Oh ! I am all right. [In a low voiced] Now do, for once, keep your temper, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann, Oh ! I can control myself well enough, dear. [Looks at his watch, ascends the raised platform, and bowsJ] It is a quarter past the time, so I will begin. [Takes out his MS.] Aslaksen, But I suppose a chairman must be elected first. 272 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. No; there's not the least necessity for that. Several Gentlemen \shoutin\. Yes, yes. Burgomaster. I am also of opinion that a chairman should be elected. Dr. Stockmann. But I have called this meeting to give a lecture, Peter ! Burgomaster. A lecture concerning the Baths may very possibly lead to divergence of opinion. Several Voices in the crowd. A chairman ! a chairman ! Hovstad. The general desire of the meeting seems to be for a chairman. Dr. Stockmann [controlling himself]. Very well, then ; let the meeting have its will. Aslaksen. Will not the Burgomaster take the chair ? Three Gentlemen \clapping^\ Bravo ! Bravo. Burgomaster. For several reasons, which I am sure you will understand, I must decline. But, fortunately, we have here in our midst one whom I think we all can accept. I allude to the president of the Householders' Association, Mr. Aslaksen. Many Voices. Yes, yes ! Long live Aslaksen ! Three cheers for Aslaksen. [DR. STOCKMANN takes his MS. and descends from the platform.'] Aslaksen. If I am called upon by the confidence of my fellow-citizens, I shall not be unwilling to [Applause and cheers. ASLAKSEN ascends the platform] Billing \writing~\. So " Mr. Aslaksen was elected with acclamation " Aslaksen. And now, as I have been called to the chair, I take the liberty of saying a few brief words. I am a quiet, peace-loving man ; I am in favour of discreet moderation, AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 273 and of and of moderate discretion. That everyone who knows me, knows. Many Voices. Yes, yes, Aslaksen ! Aslaksen. I have learnt in the school of life and of experience that moderation is the virtue which best becomes a citizen Burgomaster. Hear, hear! Aslaksen. and it is discretion and moderation, too, that best serve the community. I will therefore beg our respected fellow-citizen who has called this meeting to reflect upon this and to keep within the bounds of moderation. A Man [by the door]. Three cheers for the Moderation Society. A Voice. Go to the devil ! Voices. Hush ! hush ! Aslaksen. No interruptions, gentlemen ! Does anyone wish to offer any observations ? Burgomaster. Mr. Chairman ! Aslaksen. Burgomaster Stockmann will address the meeting. Burgomaster. In consideration of my close relationship of which you are probably aware to the gentleman who is at present medical officer to the Baths, I should very much have preferred not to speak here this evening. But the position I hold at the Baths, and my anxiety with regard to matters of the utmost importance to the town, force me to move a resolution. I may, no doubt, assume that not a single citizen here present thinks it desirable that unreliable and exaggerated statements, as to the sanitary condition of the Baths and the town, should be disseminated over a wider area. Many Voices. No, no, certainly not. We protest. 513 274 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Burgomaster. I therefore beg to move, " That this meeting refuses to hear the medical officer of the Baths either lecture or speak upon the subject." Dr. Stockmann \_flaming u/\. Refuses to hear what nonsense ! Mrs. Stockmann coughing. Hm ! hm ! Dr. Stockmann {controlling himself]. Then I'm not to be heard. Burgomaster. In my statement in the People's Messenger I have made the public acquainted with the most essential facts, so -that all well-disposed citizens can easily draw their own conclusions. You will see from this that the medical officer's proposal besides being a vote of censure against the leading men of the town at bottom only means sad- dling the rate-paying inhabitants of the town with an un- necessary expense of at least a hundred thousand crowns. [Noise and some hissing.'] Aslaksen [ringing the bell]. Order, gentlemen 1 I must take the liberty of supporting' the Burgomaster's resolution. It is also my opinion there is something beneath the surface of the doctor's agitation. He speaks of the Baths, but it is a revolution he is trying to bring about ; he wants to place the municipal government of the town in other hands. No one doubts the intentions of Dr. Stockmann God forbid ! there can't be two opinions as to that. I, too, am in favour of self-government by the people, if only the cost do not fall too heavily upon the ratepayers. But in this case it would do so, and for this reason I d n it all I beg your pardon I cannot go with Dr. Stockmann upon this occasion. You can buy even gold at too high a price ; that's my opinion. {.Loud applause on all sides]. Hovstad. I also feel bound to explain my attitude. In the beginning, Dr. Stockmann's agitation found favour in AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, 275 several quarters, and I supported it as impartially as I could. But when we found we had allowed ourselves to be misled by a false statement JDr. Stockmann. False ! Hovstad. Well, then, a somewhat unreliable statement. The Burgomaster's report has proved this. I trust no one here present doubts my liberal principles ; the attitude of the Messenger on all great political questions is well known to you all. But I have learned from experienced and thoughtful men that in purely local matters a paper must observe a certain amount of caution. Aslaksen. I quite agree with the speaker. Hovstad. And in the matter under discussion it is evident that Dr. Stockmann has public opinion against him. But, gentlemen, what is the first and foremost duty of an editor ? Is it not to work in harmony with his readers ? Has he not in some sort received a silent mandate to further assiduously and unweariedly the well-being of his constituents ? or am I mistaken in this ? Many Voices. No, no, no ! Hovstad is right. Hovstad. It has cost me a bitter struggle to break with a man in whose house I have of late been a frequent guest with a man who up to this day has enjoyed the universal goodwill of his fellow-citizens with a man whose only, or at any^ratej* whose chief fault is that he consults his heart rather than his head. A few scattered voices. That's true ! Three cheers for Dr. Stockmann. Hovstad. But my duty towards the community has forced me to break with him. Then, too, there is another con- sideration that compels me to oppose him, to stay him if possible from the fatal descent upon which he is entering : consideration for his family 2 7 6 AN ENEMY OF SOCIE TY. Dr. Stockmann. Keep to the water-works and the sewers ! Hovstad. consideration for his wife and his un- provided-for children. Morten, Is that us, mother? Mrs. Stockmann. Hush ! Aslaksen. I will now put the Burgomaster's resolution to the vote. Dr. Stockmann. It is not necessary. I haven't the slightest intention of speaking of all the filth at the Baths. No ! You shall hear something quite different. Burgomaster \aside\ What nonsense has he got hold of now? A Drunken Man \at the main entrance~\. I'm a duly qualified ratepayer ! And so I've a right to my opinion ! My full, firm opinion is that Several Voices. Silence, up there. Others. He's drunk ! Turn him out ! \The drunken man is put out.] Dr. Stockmann. Can I speak ? Aslaksen [ringing the bell\ Dr. Stockmann will address the meeting. Dr. Stockmann. I should have liked to see anyone, but a few days ago, dare to make such an attempt to gag me as has been made here to-night ! I would then have fought like a lion in defence of my holiest rights as a man. But now all this is quite indifferent to me, for now I have more important things to speak of. \The people crowd closer round him. MORTEN KIIL is now seen among the bystanders. Dr. STOCKMANN continues^ During the last few days I have thought, reflected much, have pondered upon so many things, till, at last, my head seemed to be in a whirl Burgomaster \coughing\. Hm ! AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 277 Dr. Stockmann but then I began to see things clearly; then I saw to the very bottom of the whole matter. And that is why I stand here this evening. I am about to make a great revelation to you, fellow-ci'.izens 1 I am going to dis- close that to you which is of infinitely more moment than the unimportant fact that our water-works are poisonous, and that our Hygienic Baths are built upon a soil teeming with pestilence. Many Voices \shouting\. Don't speak about the Baths! We won't listen to that ! Shut up about that ! Dr. Stockmann. I have said I should speak of the great discovery I have made within the last few days the discovery that all our spiritual sources of life are poisoned, and that our whole bourgeois society rests upon a soil teeming with the pestilence of lies. Several Voices [in astonishment and half aloud~\. What is he saying? Burgomaster. Such an insinuation Aslaksen \with hand on belt\. I must call upon the speaker to moderate his expressions. Dr. Stockmann. I have loved my native town as dearly as man could love the home of his childhood. I was not old when I left our town, and distance, privations, and memory threw, as it were, a strange glamour over the town and its people. [Some clapping and cheers of approval.} Then for years I found myself stranded in an out-of-the- way corner in the north. Whenever I met any of the poor i.blk who lived there, hemmed in by rocks, it seemed to me, many a time, that it would have been better for these poor degraded creatures if they had had a cattle doctor to attend them instead of a man like me. [Murmurs in the room.~\ BUling [laying down his pen\. God bless me ! but I've never heard 278 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad. It is an insult to an estimable peasantry. Dr. Stockmann. One moment ! I do ,not think anyone can reproach me with forgetting my native town up there. I brooded over my eggs like an eider duck, and what I hatched were plans for the Baths here. \Applause and interruptions^ And when, at last, after a long time, fate arranged all things so well and happily for me that I could come home again then, fellow-citizens, it seemed to me that I hadn't another wish upon earth. Yes ; I had the one ardent, constant, burning desire to be useful to the place of my birth, and to the people here. Burgomaster \iooking into vacancy\. The method is rather extraordinary hm ! Z)r. Stockmann. And when I came here I rejoiced blindly in my happy illusions. But yesterday morning no, it was really two evenings ago the eyes of my mind were opened wide, and the first thing I saw was the extraordinary stupidity ot the authorities. \Noise, cries, and laughter. MRS. STOCKMANN coughs zealously.] Burgomaster. Mr. Chairman ! Aslaksen [ringing belf\. In virtue of my office ! Dr. Stockmann. It is mean to catch me up on a word, Mr. Aslaksen. I only meant that I became aware of the extraordinary muddling of which the leading men have been guilty down there at the Baths. I detest leading men I've seen enough of these gentry in my time. They are like goats in a young plantation : they do harm every- where; they stand in the path of a free man wherever he turns and I should be glad if we could exterminate them like other noxious animals \Uproar in the room.'] Burgomaster. Mr. Chairman, can such an expression be permitted. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 279 Aslaksen [with one hand on shelf \ Doctor Stockmann 1 Dr. Stockmann. I can't conceive how it is that I only now have seen through these gentry ; for haven't I had a magnificent example before my eyes daily here in the town my brother Peter slow in grasping new ideas, tenacious in prejudice \Laughfer y noise, and whistling. MRS. STOCKMANN coughs. ASLAKSEN rings violently^ The Drunken Man \who has come in again]. Do you mean me ? Sure, enough, my name is Petersen, but d n me if Angry Voices. Out with that drunken man. Turn him out. \The man is again turned out.] Burgomaster. Who is that person ? A Bystander. I don't know him, Burgomaster. AnotJier. He doesn't belong to this town. A third. Probably he's a loafer from \TJie rest is in- audible^ Aslaksen. The man was evidently intoxicated with Bavarian beer. Continue, Dr. Stockmann, but do strive to be moderate. ; j Dr. Stockmann. Well, fellow-citizens, I will say no more about our leading men. If anyone imagines, from what I have said here, that I want to exterminate these gentlemen to-night, he is mistaken altogether mistaken. For I cherish the comforting belief that these laggards, these old remnants of a ,- decaying world of thought, are doing this admirably for themselves. They need no doctor's help tp hasten their end. Nor, indeed, is it this sort of people that are the most serious danger of society; it is not they who are the most effective in poisoning our spiritual life 2 8o AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. or making pestilential the ground beneath our feet; it is not they who are the most dangerous enemies of truth and freedom in our society. Cries from all sides. Who, then ? Who is it ? Name, name. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, you may be sure I will name them ! For this is the great discovery I made yesterday ! [In a louder tone^\ The most dangerous enemies of truth and freedom in our midst are the compact majority. Yes, the d d, compact, liberal majority they it is ! Now you know it- [Immense noise in the room. Most are shouting, stamping, and whistling. Several elderly gentlemen exchange stolen glances and seem amused. MRS. STOCKMANN rises nervously. EJLIF and MORTEN advance threateningly towards the school-boys, who are making a noise. As- LAKSEN rings the bell and calls for order. HOVSTAD and BILLING both speak, but nothing can be heard. At last quiet is restored^ Aslasken. The chairman expects the speaker to withdraw his thoughtless remarks. Dr. Stockmann. Never, Mr. Aslasken. For it is this great majority of our society that robs me of my freedom, and wants to forbid me to speak the truth. Hovstad. Right is always on the side of the majority. Billing. Yes, and the truth too, God bless me ! Dr. Stockmann. The majority is never right. Never, I say. That is one of those conventional lies against which a free, thoughtful man must rebel. Who are they that make up the majority of a country ? Is it the wise men or the foolish ? I think we must agree that the foolish folk are, at present, in a terribly overwhelming majority all AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 281 around and about us the wide world over. But, devil take it, it can surely never be right that the foolish should rule over the wise ! [Noise and shoutsJ\ Yes, yes, you can shout me down, but you cannot gainsay me. The majority has might unhappily but right it has not. I and a few others are right. The minority is always right. [Muck noise again^\ Hovstad. Ha ! ha ! So Dr. Stockmann has turned aris- tocrat since the day before yesterday ! Dr. Stockmann. I have said that I will not waste a word on the little, narrow-chested, short-winded crew that lie behind us. Pulsating life has nothing more to do with them. But I do think of the few individuals among us who have made all the new, germinating truths their own. These men stand, as it were, at the outposts, so far in advance that the compact majority has not yet reached them and there they fight for truths that are too lately borne into the world's consciousness to have won over the majority. JJovstad. So the doctor is a revolutionist now. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, by Heaven, I am, Mr. Hovstad! For I am going to revolt against the lie that truth resides in the majority. What sort of truths are those that the majority is wont to take up ? Truths so full of years that they are decrepit. When a truth is as old as that it is in a fair way to become a lie, gentlemen. \Laughter and interruption^ Yes, yes, you may believe me or not ; but truths are by no means wiry Methusalahs, as some people think. A normally-constituted truth lives let me say as a rule, seventeen or eighteen years, at the outside twenty years, seldom longer. But truths so stricken in years are always shockingly thin. And yet it is only then that a majority takes them up and recommends them to 282 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. society as wholesome food. But I can assure you there is not much nutritious matter in this sort of fare; and as a doctor I know something about it. All these majority- truths are like last year's salt pork ; they are like rancid, mouldy ham, producing all the moral scrofula that devas- tates society. Aslaksen. It seems to me that the honourable speaker is wandering very considerably from the subject. Burgomaster. I quite agree with the chairman. Dr. Stockmann, I really think you quite mad, Peter ! I am keeping as closely to the subject as I possibly can, for what I am speaking of is only this that the masses, the majority, that d d compact majority it is they, I say, who are poisoning our spiritual life, and making pestilential the ground beneath our feet. Hovstad. And this the great, independent, majority of the people do, just because they are sensible enough to reverence only assured and acknowledged truths ? Dr. Stockmann. Ah ! my dear Mr. Hovstad, don't talk so glibly about assured truths ! The truths acknowledged by the masses, the multitude, are truths that the advanced guard thought assured in the days of our grandfathers. We, the fighters at the out-posts nowadays, we no longer acknowledge them, and I don't believe that there is any other assured truth but this that society cannot live, and live wholesomely, upon such old, marrowless, lifeless truths as these. Hovstad. But instead of all this vague talk it would be more interesting to learn what are these old, lifeless truths which we are living upon. \Approving applause generally^ Dr. Stockmann. Ah ! I couldn't go over the whole heap of abominations ; but to begin with, I'll just keep to one AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, 283 acknowledged truth, which at bottom is a hideous lie, but which, all the same, Mr. Hovstad, and the Messenger, and all adherents of the Messenger live upon. Hovstad. And that is ? Dr. Stockmann. That is the doctrine that you have inherited from our forefathers, and that you heedlessly proclaim far and wide the doctrine that the multitude, the vulgar herd, the masses, are the pith of the people that, indeed, they are the people that the common man, that this ignorant, undeveloped member of society, has the same right to condemn or to sanction, to govern and t$> rule, as the few people of intellectual power. Billing. Now really, God bless me Hovstad [shouting at the same time]. Citizens, please note that! Angry Voices. Ho, ho ! Aren't we the people ? Is it only the grand folk who're to govern ? A Working-man. Turn out the fellow who stands there talking such twaddle. Others. Turn him out ! A Citizen [shouting]. Blow your horn, Evensen. [Loud hooting, "whistling, and terrific noise in the room.] Dr. Stockmann [when the noise had somewhat subsided}. Now do be reasonable ! Can't you bear to hear the voice of truth for once ? Why, I don't ask you all to agree with me straight away. But I did certainly expect that Mr. Hovstad would be on my side, if he would but be true to himself. For Mr. Hovst.id claims to be a free-thinker Several Voices ask wondering [in a lozv voice']. Free- thinker, did he say. What ? Editor Hovstad a free-thinker ? Hovstad [shouting]. Prove it, Dr. Stockmann ! When have I said that in print ? 284 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann \reflecting\. No ; by Heaven, you're right there. You've never had the frankness to do that. Well, I won't get you into a scrape, Mr. Hovstad. Let me be the free-thinker then. For now I'll prove, and on scientific grounds, that the Messenger is leading you all by the nose shamefully, when it tells you that you, that the masses, the vulgar herd, are the true pith of the people. You see that is only a newspaper lie. The masses are nothing but the raw material that must be fashioned into the people. [Murmurs, laughter, and noise in the room.] Is it not so with all other living creatures on earth? How great the difference between a cultivated and an uncultivated breed of animals ! Only look at a common barn hen. What sort of meat do you get from such a skinny animal? Nothing to boast of! And what sort of eggs does it lay? A fairly decent crow or raven can lay eggs nearly as good. Then take a cultivated Spanish or Japanese hen, or take a fine pheasant or turkey ah ! then you see the difference. And then I take the dog, man's closest ally. Think first of an ordinary common cur I mean one of those loathsome, ragged, low mongrels, that haunt the streets, and are a nuisance to everybody. And place such a mongrel by the side of a poodle dog, who for many generations has been bred from a well-known strain, who has lived on delicate food, and has heard harmonious voices and music. Don't you believe that the brain of a poodle has developed quite differently from that of a mongrel ? Yes, you may depend upon that ! It is educated poodles like this that jugglers train to perform the most extra- ordinary tricks. A common peasant-cur could never learn anything of the sort not if he tried till Doomsday. [Laughing and chaffing are heard all round.] AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 285 A Citizen \shouting\. Do you want to make dogs of us now? Another Man. We are not animals, doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, on my soul, but we are animals, old fellow ! We're one and all of us as much animals as one could wish. But, truly, there aren't many distinguished animals among us. Ah ! there is a terrible difference between men poodles and men-mongrels. And the ridiculous part of it is, that Editor Hovstad quite agrees with me so long as we speak of four-footed animals Hovstad. Oh ! do drop them ! Dr. Stockmann. All right ! but so soon as I apply the law to the two-legged, Mr. Hovstad is up in arms ; then he no longer dares to stick to his own opinions, he does not dare to think out his own thoughts to their logical end ; then he turns his whole doctrines upside down, and proclaims in the People's Messenger that barn-yard hens and gutter mongrels are precisely the finest specimens in the menagerie. But it is always thus so long as you haven't work'd the vulgarity out of your system, and fought your way up to spiritual distinction. Hovstad. I make no kind of pretensions to any sort of distinction. I come from simple peasants, and I am proud that my root lies deep down among the masses, who are being jeered at now. Several Workmen. Three cheers for Hovstad ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! Dr. Stockmann. The sort of people I am speaking of you don't find only in the lower classes; they crawl and swarm all around us up to the very highest classes of society. Why, only look at your own smug, smart Burgo- master ! Truly, my brother Peter is as much one of the vulgar herd as any man walking on two legs. \JLaughter and hisses.'] 286 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Burgomaster. I beg to protest against such personal allusions. Dr. Stockmann \imperturbably\. and that not because he like myself is descended from a good-for-nothing old pirate of Pomerania, or somewhere thereabouts yes, for that we are so Burgomaster. Absurd tradition ! Has been refuted ! Dr. Stockmann. but he is so because he thinks the thoughts of his forefathers, and holds the opinions of his forefathers. The people who do this, they belong to the unintellectual mob ; see that's why my pretentious brother Peter is at bottom so utterly without refinement, and consequently so illiberal. Burgomaster. Mr. Chairman Hovstad. So that the distinguished persons in this country are liberals ? That's quite a new theory. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, that too is part of my new discovery. And you shall hear this also; that free thought is almost precisely the same thing as morality. And therefore I say that it is altogether unpardonable of the Messenger to proclaim day after day the false doctrine that it is the masses and the multitude, the compact majority, that monopolise free thought and morality, and that vice and depravity and all spirkual filth are only the oozings from education, as all the filth down there by the Baths oozes out from the Mill Dale Tan-works ! [Noise and interruptions. DR. STOCKMANN goes on imperturbably smiling in his eagerness.] And yet this same Messenger can still preach about the masses and the many being raised to a higher level of life ! But, in the devil's name if the doctrine of the Messenger holds good, why, then, this raising up of the masses would be synonymous with hurling them into destruction ! But, happily, it is only an old hereditary lie AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 287 that education demoralises. No, it is stupidity, poverty, the ugliness of life, that do this devil's work ! In a house that isn't aired, and whose floors are not swept every day my wife Katrine maintains that the floors ought to be scrubbed too, but we can't discuss that now ; well, in such a house, I say, within two or three years, people lose the power of thinking or acting morally. A deficiency of oxygen enervates the conscience. And it would seem there's precious little oxygen in many and many a house here in the town, since the whole compact majority is unscrupulous enough to be willing to build up the prosperity of the town upon a quagmire of lies and fraud. Aslaksen. I cannot allow so gross an insult, levelled at all the citizens here present A Gentleman. I move that the chairman order the speaker to sit down. Eager Voices. Yes, yes, that's right ! Sit down ! Sit down 1 Dr. Stockmann \_flaring up\. Then I will proclaim the truth from the house-tops ! I'll write to other newspapers outside the town ! The whole land shall know how matters are ordered here. Hovstad. It would almost seem as if the doctor wanted to ruin the town. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, I love my native town so well I would rather ruin it than see it flourishing upon a lie. Aslaksen. That is speaking strongly. \Noiseandwhistling. MRS. STOCKMANN coughs in vain; the doctor no longer heeds her.] Hovstad [shouting amid the tumulf\. The man who would ruin a whole community must be an enemy of society ! Dr. Stockmann [with growing excitement]. It doesn't 288 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. matter if a lying community is ruined ! It must be levelled to the ground, I say ! All men who live upon lies must be exterminated like vermin ! You'll poison the whole country in time ; you'll bring it to such a pass that the whole country will deserve to perish. And should it come to this, I say, from the bottom of my heart : Perish the country ! Perish all its people ! A Man [in the crowd'}. Why, he talks like a regular enemy of the people I Billing. There, God bless me ! spoke the voice of the people ! Many shouting. Yes ! yes ! yes ! He's an enemy of the people ! He hates the country ! He hates the people ! Aslaksen. Both as a citizen of this town and as a man, I am deeply shocked at what I have been obliged to listen to here. Dr. Stockmann has unmasked himself in a manner I should never have dreamt of. I am reluctantly forced to subscribe to the opinion just expressed by a worthy citizen, and I think we ought to give expression to this opinion. I therefore beg to propose, " That this meeting is of opinion that the medical officer of the Bath, Dr. Thomas Stock- mann, is an enemy of the people." [Thunders of applause and cheers. Many form a circle round the doctor and hoot at him. MRS. STOCKMANN and PETRA have risen. MORTEN and EJLIF fight the other school-boys who have also been hooting. Some grown-up persons separate them.] Dr. Stockmann [to the people hooting]. Ah ! fools, that you are ! I tell you that Aslaksen [ringing]. The doctor is out of order in speak- ing. A regular vote must be taken, and out of considera- tion for the feelings of those present the vote will be taken AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 289 in writing and without names. Have you any blank paper, Mr. Billing? Billing. Here's both blue and white paper Aslaksen. That'll do. We shall manage more quickly this way. Tear it up. That's it. \To the meeting.} Blue means no, white means yes. I will myself go round and collect the votes. [ The Burgomaster leaves the room. ASLAKSEN and a few citizens go round with pieces of paper in hats^\ A Gentleman [to Hovstad~\ Whatever is up with the doctor ? What does it ajl mean ? Hovstad. Why, you know how irrepressible he is. Another Gentleman [to Billing\. I say, you're intimate with him. Have you ever noticed if he drinks ? Billing. God bless me ! I really don't know what to say. Toddy is always on the table whenever anyone calls. yd Gentleman. No, I rather think he's not always right in his head. \st Gentleman. Yes I wonder if madness is hereditary in the family ? Billing. I shouldn't wonder. tfh Gentleman. No, it's pure jealousy. He wants to be over the heads of the rest. Billing. A few days ago he certainly was talking about a rise in his salary, but he did not get it. All the Gentlemen \together\ Ah ! that explains every- thing. The Drunken Man [in the crowd\ I want a blue one, I do ! And I'll have a white one too ! People call out. There's the drunken man again ! Turn him out ! 5H 2QO AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Morten Kiil [coming near to the doctor]. Well, Stockmann, do you see now what this tomfoolery leads to? Dr. Stockmann. I have done my duty. Morten Kiil. What was that you said about the Mill Dale Tanneries ? Dr. Stockmann. Why, you heard what I said ; that all the filth comes from them. Morten Kiil. From my tannery as well ? Dr. Stockmann. Unfortunately, your tannery is the worst of all. Morten Kiil. Will you put that into the papers too ? Dr. Stockmann. I never keep anything back. Morten Kiil. That may cost you dear, Stockmann ! [Exit.] A Fat Gentleman [goes up to Horster without bowing to the ladies]. Well, Captain, so you lend your house to an enemy of the people. Horster. I suppose I can do as I please with my own, sir. The Merchant. Then, of course, you can have no objec- tion if I do the same with mine ? Horster. What do you mean, sir ? The Merchant. You shall hear from me to-morrow. [Turns away, and exit.} Petra. Wasn't that the shipowner? Horster. Yes, that was Merchant Vik. Aslaksen [with the voting papers in his hands, ascends the platform and rings]. Gentlemen ! I have to acquaint you with the result of the vote. All, with one exception A Young Gentleman. That's the drunken man ! Aslaksen. With one exception a tipsy man this meet- ing of citizens declares the medical officer of the Baths, Dr. Thomas Stockmann, an enemy of the people. [Cheers AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 291 and applause.] Three cheers for our honourable old com- munity of citizens ! [Applause.] Three cheers for our able and energetic Burgomaster, who has so loyally put on one side the claims of kindred ! [Cheers.'] The meeting is dissolved. [He descends^ Billing. Three cheers for the chairman I All. Hurrah for Printer Aslaksen I Dr. Stockmann. My hat and coat, Petra 1 Captain, have you room for passengers to the new world ? Horster. For you and yours, doctor, we'll make room. Dr. Stockmann \while Petra helps him on with his coat], Good ! Come, Katrine ! come, boys ! [ffe gives his wife his arm.] Mrs. Stockmann. [in a low voice']. Dear Thomas, let us go out by the back way. Dr. Stockmann. No back ways, Katrine ! [In a louder voice.~\ You shall hear of the enemy of the people before he shakes the dust from his feet ! I'm not so forgiving as a certain person : I don't say I forgive you, for you know not what you do. Aslaksen [shouting]. That is a blasphemous comparison, Dr. Stockmann ! Billing. It is, God bl A serious man can't stand that! A Coarse Voice. And he threatens us into the bargain ! Angry Cries. Let's smash the windows in his house Let's give him a ducking ! A Man [in the crowd}. Blow your horn, Evensen Ta-rata ra-ra ! [Horn-blowing, whistling, and wild shouting. The doctor, with his family, goes towards the door. HORSTER makes way for them.] 292 AN ENEMY Of SOCIETY. All [shouting after them as they go oui\. Enemy of the people ! Enemy of the people ! Enemy of the people ! Billing. Well, God bless me if I'd drink toddy at Doctor Stockmann's to-night ! The people throng towards the door; the noise is heard without from the street beyond; cries of " Enemy of the people / Enemy of the people ! "] ACT V. [DR. STOCK"MANN'S Study. Bookcases and various preparations along the walls. In the background, a door leading to the ante-room; to the left first entrance, a door to the sitting- room. In wall right are two windows, all the panes of which are smashed. In the middle of the room is the doctor's writing-table, covered with books and papers. The room is in disorder. It is morning. DR. STOCKMANN, in dressing-gown, slippers, and skull-cap, is bending down and raking with an umbrella under one of the cabinets ; at last he rakes out a stone.'} Dr. Stockmann [speaking through the sitting-room door\. Katrine, I've found another one. Mrs. Stockmann [in the sitting-room\. Ah ! you're sure to find lots more. Dr. Stockmann \_pladng the stone on a pile of others on the table']. I shall keep these stones as sacred relics. Ejlif and Morten shall see them every day, and when they are grown men they shall inherit them from me. [Poking under the AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 293 bookcase^ Hasn't what the devil's her name ? the girl hasn't she been for the glazier yet? Mrs. Stockmann [coming in\. Yes, but he said he didn't know whether he'd be able to come to-day. Dr. Stockmann. You'll see he daren't come. Mrs. Stockmann. Well, Rudine also thought he didn't dare to come, because of the neighbours. [Speaks through sitting-room door]. What is it, Rudine? All right. [Goes in and returns again immediately.] Here's a letter for you, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. Let's see. [Opens letter and reads.] Ah, ha! Mrs. Stockmann. Whom is it from ? Dr. Stockmann. From the landlord. He gives us notice. Mrs. Stockmann. Is it possible? Such a pleasantly- behaved man. Dr. Stockmann [looking at the letter]. He daren't do otherwise, he says. He is very loath to do it; but he daren't do otherwise on account of his fellow-citizens, out of respect for public opinion is in a dependent position does not dare to offend certain influential men Mrs. Stockmann. There, you can see now, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, yes, I see well enough ; they are cowards, every one of them cowards in this town ; no one dares do anything for fear of all the rest. [Throws letter on table.~] But that's all the same to us, Katrine. Now we're journeying to the new world, and so Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, but, Thomas, is that idea of the journey really well-advised ? Dr. Stockmann. Perhaps you'd have me stay here where they have gibbeted me as an enemy of the people, branded me, and smashed my windows to atoms ? And look here, Katrine, they have torn a hole in my black trousers. 294 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY, Mrs. Stockmann. Oh dear, and they're the best you've got. Dr. Stockmann. One ought never to put on one's best trousers when one goes fighting for liberty and truth. Of course, you know I don't care so much about the trousers ; you can always patch them up for me. But it is that the mob should dare to attack me as if they were my equals that's what, for the life of me, I can't stomach. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, they've been very insolent to you here, Thomas ; but must we leave the country altogether on that account ? Dr. Stockmann. Don't you think the plebeians are just as impertinent in other towns as here ? Ah, yes, they are, my dear; they're pretty much of a muchness everywhere. Well, never mind, let the curs snap ; that is not the worst ; the worst is that all men are party slaves all the land over. Nor is it that perhaps that's no better in the free west either; there, too, the compact majority thrives, and enlightened public opinion and all the other devil's trash flourishes. But you see the conditions are on a larger scale there than here ; they may lynch you, but they don't torture you ; they don't put the screw on a free soul there as they do at home here. And then, if need be, you can live apart. [ Walks up and downJ] If I only knew whether there were any primeval forest, any little South Sea island to be bought cheap Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, but the boys, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann {standing stilt}. What an extraordinary woman you are, Katrine ! Would you prefer the boys to grow up amid such a society as ours ? Why, you saw your- self yesterday evening that one half of the population is quite mad, and if the other half hasn't lost its reason, that's because they're hounds who haven't any reason to lose. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 295 Mrs. Stoekmann. But really, dear Thomas, you do say such impudent things ! Dr. Stoekmann. Well ! But isn't what I say the truth ? Don't they turn all ideas upside down ? Don't they stir up right and wrong in one mess of potage ? Don't they call lies what I know to be truth ? But the maddest thing of all is that there are a whole mass of grown men, Liberals, who go about persuading themselves and others that they are free ! Did you ever hear anything like it, Katrine ? Mrs. Stoekmann. Yes, yes, it is certainly quite mad. But [PETRA enters from sitting-room}. Back from school already ? Petra. Yes, I've been dismissed. Mrs. Stoekmann. Dismissed ? Dr. Stoekmann. You, too ! Petra. Mrs. Busk gave me notice, and so I thought it would be best to leave there and then. Dr. Stoekmann. On my soul you did right ! Mrs. Stoekmann. Who could have thought Mrs. Busk was such a bad woman ? Petra. Oh ! Mother, Mrs. Busk isn't really so bad ; I saw clearly how much it pained her. But she didn't dare to do otherwise, she said ; and so I'm dismissed. Dr. Stoekmann [laughing and rubbing his hands\ She dared not do otherwise, she too ! Ah ! that's delicious. Mrs. Stoekmann. Ah ! well ! after the dreadful uproar last night Petra. It wasn't only that. Now you shall hear, father ! Dr. Stoekmann. Well ? Petra. Mrs. Busk showed me no less than three letters she had received this morning. Dr. Stoekmann. Anonymous, of course? Petra. Yes. 296 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. They didn't dare to give their names, Katrine ! Petra. And two of them wrote that a gentleman who frequently visits our house, said at the club last night that I had such extremely advanced opinions upon various matters. Dr. Stockmann. And, of course, you didn't deny that ? Petra. Of course not. You know Mrs. Busk herself has pretty advanced opinions when we are alone together ; but now this has come out about me she didn't dare keep me on. Mrs. Stockmann. And to think it was one who came to our house ! There, now, you see, Thomas, what comes of all your hospitality. Dr. Stockmann. We won't live any longer amid such foulness. Pack up as quickly as you can, Katrine ; let us get away the sooner the better. Mrs. Stockmann. Hush ! I think there's some one out- side in the passage. Just see, Petra. Petra [opening door\. Ah ! is it you, Captain Horsier ? Please come in. Horsier [from the ante-room\. Good morning. I thought I must just look in and see how you're getting on. Dr. Stockmann [holding out his hand\. Thanks ; that's very beautiful of you. Mrs. Stockmann, And thanks for seeing us home, Cap- tain Horster. Petra. But, however did you get back again ? Horster. Oh ! that was all right. You know I'm pretty strong, and these folk's bark is worse than their bite. Dr. Stockmann. Isn't it marvellous, this piggish coward- ice? Come here, I want to show you something! See, here are all the stones they threw in at us. Only look at AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 297 them ! Upon my soul there aren't more than two decent big fighting stones in the whole lot; the rest are nothing but pebbles mere nothings. And yet they stood down there, and yelled, and swore they'd slay me the corrupt one ; but for deeds, for deeds there's not much of that in this town ! Horsier. Well, that was a good thing for you this time, anyhow, doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Of course it was. But its vexatious all the same ; for should it ever come to a serious, really im- portant struggle, you'll see, Captain Horster, that public opinion will take to its heels, and the compact majority will make for the sea like a herd of swine. It is this that is so sad to think of; it grieves me to the very heart. No, deuce take it at the bottom all this is folly. They've said I am an enemy of the people ; well then, I'll be an enemy of the people. Mrs. Stockmann. You will never be that, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. You'd better not take your oath of it, Katrine. A bad name may work like a pin's prick in the lungs. And that d d word I can't get rid of it; it has sunk into my diaphragm there it lies, and gnaws, and sucks like some acid. And magnesia is no good against that. Petra. Pshaw ! You should only laugh at them, father. Horster. The people will think differently yet, doctor. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, Thomas, you may be as sure of that as you're standing here. Dr. Stockmann. Yes perhaps when it is too late. Well, much good may it do them ! Let them go on wallowing here in the mire, and repent that they have driven a patriot into exile. When do you sail, Captain Horster ? Horster. Hm 1 it was really that I came to speak to you about 298 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann, Has anything gone wrong with the ship ? Horsier. No ; but it's like this, I'm not going with it- Petra. Surely you have not been dismissed ? Horsier (smiling). Yes, I have. Petra. You too ! Mrs. Stockmann. There you see, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. And for truth's sake ! Ah ! had I thought such a thing Horsier. You musn't take it to heart ; I shall soon get a berth with some other company. Dr. Stockmann. And this Merchant Vik ! A wealthy man, independent of anyone ! Good Heavens Horsier. In other matters he is a thoroughly fair man, and he says himself he would gladly have kept me on if only he dared Dr. Stockmann. But he didn't dare that goes without saying. Horsier. It wasn't easy, he said, when you belong to a party Dr. Stockmann. That was a true saying of the honourable man's ! A party is like a sausage-machine ; it grinds all the heads together in one mash ; and that's why there are so many blockheads and fat heads all seething together ! Mrs Stockmann. Now really, Thomas 1 Petra [to Horster\. If only you hadn't seen us home per- haps it would not have come to this. Horsier. I don't regret it Petra [holding out her hands]. Thank you for that ! Horsier [to Dr. Stockmann\. And so what I wanted to say to you was this : that if you really want to leave I have thought of another way Dr. Stockmann. That is good if only we can get off- Mrs. Stockmann. Sh ! Isn't that a knock ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 299 Petra. I'm sure that's uncle. Dr. Stockmann. Aha! [Calls."] Come in. Mrs. Stockmann. Dear Thomas, now do for once promise me [Enter Burgomaster from ante-room.] Burgomaster (in the doorway). Oh ! you're engaged. Then I'd better Dr. Stockmann. No, no ; come in. Burgomaster. But I wanted to speak with you alone. Mrs. Stockmann. We'll go into the sitting-room. Horsier. And I'll look in again presently. Dr. Stockmann. No, no, go with them, Captain Horster, I must have further information Horster. All right, then I'll wait. [He follows MRS. STOCKMANN and PETRA into the sitting-room. The Burgomaster says nothing, but casts glances at the windows.] Dr. Stockmann. Perhaps you find it rather drafty here to-day ? Put your hat on. Burgomaster. Thanks, if I may [puts on haf], I fancy I caught cold yesterday evening. I stood there shivering. Dr. Stockmann. Really ? I should have said it was pretty warm. Burgomaster. I regret that it was not in my power to prevent these nocturnal excesses. Dr. Stockmann. Have you nothing else to say to me ? Burgomaster [producing a large letter], I've this docu- ment for you from the Directors of the Baths. Dr. Stockmann. I am dismissed ? Burgomaster. Yes ; from to-day. [ Places letter on table.} We are very sorry but frankly, we dared not do otherwise on account of public opinion. 300 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann [smiling']. Dared not? I've heard that word already to-day. Burgomaster. I beg of you to understand your position clearly. You must not, for the future, count upon any sort of practice in the town here. Dr. Stockmann. Deuce take the practice ! But are you so sure of this ? Burgomaster. The Householders' Association is sending round a circular from house to house, in which all well- disposed citizens are called upon not to employ you, and I dare swear that not a single father of a family will venture to refuse his signature ; he simply dare not. Dr. Stockmann. Well, well; I don't doubt that. But what then ? Burgomaster. If I might give you a piece of advice, it would be this to go away for a time. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, I've had some thought of leaving this place. Burgomaster. Good. When you've done so, and have had six months of reflection, then if, after mature con- sideration, you could make up your mind to acknowledge your error in a few words of regret Dr. Stockmann. I might perhaps be re-instated, you think ? Burgomaster. Perhaps ; it is not absolutely impossible. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, but how about public opinion? You daren't on account of public opinion. Burgomaster. Opinions are extremely variable things. And, to speak candidly, it is of the greatest importance for us to have such an admission from you. Dr. Stockmann. Then you may whistle for it ! You remember well enough, d n it, what I've said to you before about these foxes' tricks ! AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 301 Burgomaster. At that time your position was infinitely more favourable ; at that time you might have supposed you had the whole town at your back Dr. Stockmann. Yes, and now I feel I've the whole town on my back. [Flaring up.} But no not if I had the devil himself and his grandmother on my back never never, I tell you ! Burgomaster. The father of a family must not act as you are doing ; you must not, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. Must not ! There is but one thing on earth that a free man must not do, and do you know what that is ? Burgomaster. No. Dr. Stockmann. Of course not ; but I will tell you. A free man must not behave like a blackguard ; he must not so act that he would spit in his own face. Burgomaster. That really sounds extremely plausible; and if there were not another explanation of your mulish obstinacy but we know well enough there Dr. Stockmann. What do you mean by that ? Burgomaster. I'm sure you understand. But as your brother, and as a man of common-sense, I give you this advice : don't build too confidently upon prospects and expectations that perhaps may fail you utterly. Dr. Stockmann. But what on earth are you driving at ? Burgomaster. Do you really want to make me believe that you are ignorant of the provisions Master Tanner Kiil has made in his will ? Dr. Stockmann. I know that the little he has is to go to a home for old indigent working-men. But what's that got to do with me ? Burgomaster. To begin with, it is not a " little " we're speaking of. Tanner Kiil is a fairly wealthy man. 302 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. I've ne* r er had any idea of that ! Burgomaster. Hm ! Really ? Then you hadn't any idea either that a not inconsiderable portion of his fortune is to go to your children, and that you and your wife are to enjoy the interest on it for life. Hasn't he told you that ? Dr. Stockmann. No, on my soul ! On the contrary, he was constantly grumbling because he was so preposterously over-taxed. But are you really so sure of this. Peter ? Burgomaster. I had it from a thoroughly reliable source. Dr. Stockmann. But, good Heavens ! Why, then, Kat- rine is all right and the children too ! Oh ! I must tell her \Calls^\ Katrine, Katrine ! Burgomaster [restraining him~\. Hush ! don't say any- thing about it yet. Mrs. Stockmann \ppening the door\. What is it ? Dr. Stockmann. Nothing, my dear, go in again. [MRS. STOCKMANN closes the door. He walks up and down.~\ Provided for ! Only think all of them provided for ! And that for life ! After all it is a pleasant sensation to feel yourself secure ! Burgomaster. Yes, but it is not exactly so you are not. Tanner Kiil can annul his testament at any day or hour he chooses. Dr. Stockmann. But he won't do that, my good Peter. The badger is immensely delighted that I've attacked you and your wiseacre friends. Burgomaster \stops and looks searchingly at him~\. Ahal that throws a new light upon a good many matters. Dr. Stockmann. What matters ? Burgomaster. So the whole affair has been a combined manoeuvre. These violent, restless attacks which you, in the name of truth, have launched against the leading men of the town. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 303 Dr. Stockmann. What, what? Burgomaster. So this was nothing but a preconcerted return for that vindictive old Morten Kiil's will. Dr. Stockmann [almost speechless]. Peter you're the most abominable plebeian I've ever known in my life. Burgomaster. Everything is over between us. Your dismissal is irrevocable for now we have a weapon against you. [Exit.] Dr. Stockmann. Shame ! shame ! shame ! [Calls. ] Katrine ! The floor must be scrubbed after him ! Tell her to come here with a pail what's her name ? confound it the girl with the sooty nope Mrs. Stockmann [in the sitting-room] Hush, hush! Thomas ! Petra [also in tJie doorway]. Father, here's grandfather, and he wants to know if he can speak to you alone. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, of course he can. [By the door.] Come in, father-in-law. [Enter MORTEN KIIL. DR. STOCK- MANN closes the door behind him.'] Well, what is it? Sit you down. Morten Kill. I'll not sit down. [Looking about hint]. It looks cheerful here to-day, Stockmann. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, doesn't it ? Morten Kiil. Sure enough it does : and you've plenty of fresh air, too ; I should think you'd have enough of that oxygen you chattered about so much yesterday. You must have an awfully good conscience to-day, I should think. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, I have. Morten Kill. So I should suppose. [Striking himself upon the heart.] But do you know what I've got here ? Dr. Stockmann. Well, a good conscience, too, I hope. Morten Kiil. Pshaw ! No, something far better than that. 304 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. [ Takes out a large pocket-book, opens zV, and shows a mass of papers."] Dr. Stockmann [looking at him in astonishment]. Shares in the Baths ! Morten Kill. They weren't difficult to get to-day. Dr. Stockmann. And you've been and bought these up ? Morten Kill. All I'd got the money to pay for. Dr. Stockmann. But, my dear father-in-law, just now, when the Baths are in such straits. Morten Ktil. If you behave like a reasonable creature you can set the Baths going again. Dr. Stockmann. Ay, why you can see for yourself that I'm doing all I can. But the people of this town are mad ! Morten Kill. You said yesterday that the worst filth came from my tannery. Now, if that's really the truth, then my grandfather, and my father before me, and I myself have all these years been littering the town like three destroying angels. Do you think I'll let such a stain remain upon me ? Dr. Stockmann. Unfortunately, you can't help yourself now. Morten Riil. No, thanks. I stand for my good name and my rights. I have heard that the people call me " badger." Well, the badger is a swinish sort of animal, but they shall never be able to say that of me. I will live and die a clean man. Dr. Stockmann. And how will you manage that ? Morten Kiil. You shall make me clean, Stockmann. Dr. Stockmann. I ! Morten Kiil. Do you know with what money I've bought these shares ? No, you can't know, but now I'll tell you. It's the money Katrine and Petra and the little lads will AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 305 have after me. Yes, for you see, I've invested my little all to the best advantage anyhow. Dr. Stockmann \_flaring up]. And you've thrown away Katrine's money like this ! Morten Kill. O yes ; the whole of the money is entirely invested in the Baths now. And now I shall really see if you're so possessed demented mad, Stockmann. Now, if you go on letting this dirt and filth result from my tannery, it'll be just the same as if you were to flay Katrine with a whip and Petra too, and the little lads. But no decent father of a family would ever do that unless, indeed, he were a madman. Dr. Stockmann [walking up and down]. Yes, but I am a madman ; I am a madman ! Morten Kiil. But I suppose you're not so stark mad where your wife and bairns are concerned. Dr. Stockmann [standing in front of him\ Why on earth didn't you speak to me before you went and bought all that rubbish ? Morten Kiil. What's done can't be undone. Dr. Stockmann [ivalking about uneasily]. If only I weren't so certain about the affair ! But I'm thoroughly convinced that I'm right ! Morten Kiil [weighing the pocket-book in his hand"]. If you stick to your madness these aren't worth much. [Puts book into his pocket.] Dr. Stockmann. But, deuce take it ! surely science will be able to find some remedy, some antidote. Morten Kiil. Do you mean something to kill the animals ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, or at least to make them innocuous. Morten Kiil. Can't you try rat's-bane. 515 306 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Dr. Stockmann. Tush ! Tush ! But all the people say it is nothing but fancy ! Let them have their own way, then ! Haven't the ignorant, narrow-hearted curs reviled me for an enemy of the people ; and did not they try to tear the clothes from off my back ! Morten Kiil. And they've smashed all the windows for you, too ! Dr. Stockmann. Then, too, one's duty to one's family. I must talk it over with Katrine ; she is such a stickler in matters of this sort. Morten Kiil. That's right ! You just follow the advice of a sensible woman. Dr. Stockmann [going to him angrily\. How could you act so perversely! Staking Katrine's money and getting me into this horribly painful dilemma ! I tell you that when I look at you I seem to see the devil himself ! Morten Kiil. Then I'd better be off. But you must let me know your decision by two o'clock. If it's no, all the shares go to the Charity and that this very day. Dr. Stockmann. And what does Katrine get ? Morten Kiil. Not a brass farthing. \The door of the ante-room opens. MR. HOVSTAD and ASLAKSEN are seen outside it.] Do you see these two there? Dr. Stockmann [staring at theni\. What ! And they actually dare to come to me here ! Hovstad. Why, of course we do. Aslaksen. You see there is something we want to talk to you about. Morten Kiil \_whispers.~\ Yes or no by two o'clock. Aslaksen [with a glance at ffovstad.~\ Aha ! (Exit MORTEN KIIL.) Dr. Stockmann. Well, what is it you want with me? Be brief. AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 307 Hovstad. I can very well understand that you resent our conduct at the meeting yesterday Dr. Stockmann. And that's what you call conduct ! Yes, it was charming conduct ! I call it misconduct disgraceful. Shame upon you ! Hovstad. Call it what you will ; but we could not do otherwise. Dr. Stockmann. You (fared not, I suppose? Is not that so? Hovstad. Yes, if you will have it. Aslaksen. But why didn't you drop a word beforehand? Just the merest hint to Mr. Hovstad or to me ? Dr. Stockmann. A hint ? What about ? Aslaksen. About what was at the bottom of it. Dr. Stockmann. I don't in the least understand you. Aslaksen [nods familiarly]. Oh ! yes, you do, Dr. Stockmann. Hovstad. It's no good concealing it any longer now. Dr. Stockmann [looking from one to the other]. Yes ; but in the devil's own name ! Aslaksen. May I ask isn't your father-in-law going about the town and buying up all the shares in the Baths ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, he has bought shares in the Baths to-day, but Aslaksen. It would have been wiser if you'd set some- body else to do that someone not so closely connected with you. Hovstad. And then you ought not to have appeared under your own name. No one need have known that the attack on the Baths came from you. You should have taken me into your counsels, Dr. Stockmann. Dr. Stockmann [stares straight in front of him ; a light seems to break in upon him, and he looks thunder-stricken], Are such things possible ? Can such things be ? 3o8 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Hovstad \smiling\. Well, we've seen they can. But you see it ought all to have been managed with finesse. Hovstad. And then, too, you ought to have had several in it ', for you know the responsibility is less for the individual when it is shared by others. Dr. Stockmann \calmly\. In one word, gentlemen, what is it you want ? Aslaksen. Mr. Hovstad can best Hovstad. No, you explain, Aslaksen. Aslasken. Well, it's this; now that we know how the whole matter stands, we believe we shall be able to place the Peoples Messenger at your disposal. Dr. Stockmann. You dare do so, now ? But how about public opinion ? Aren't you afraid that a storm will burst out against us ? Hovstad. We must strive to ride out the storm. Aslaksen. And the doctor try to manage his face-about with dexterity. As soon as your attack has produced its effect Dr. Stockmann. As soon as my father-in-law and I have bought up the shares at a low price, you mean. Hovstad. No doubt it is scientific reasons principally that have impelled you to take over the direction of the Baths. Dr. Stockmann. Of course ; it was for scientific reasons that I made the old Badger go and buy up these shares. And then we'll tinker up the water-works a bit, and then dig about a bit by the shore down there, without it costing the town a half-crown. Don't you think that can be done? Hm? Hovstad. I think so if you have the Messenger to back you up. Aslaksen. In a free society the press is a power, Doctor. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, indeed, and so is public opinion; AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 309 and you, Mr. Aslaksen I suppose you'll be answerable for the Householders' Association ? Aslaksen, Both for the Association and the Moderation Society. You may rely upon that. Dr. Stockmann. But, gentlemen really I am quite ashamed to mention such a thing but what return ? Hovstad. Of course, you know we should be best pleased to give you our support for nothing. But the Messenger is not very firmly established ; it is not getting on as it ought ; and just now, that there is so much to be done in general politics, I should be very sorry to have to stop the paper. Dr. Stockmann. Naturally ; that would be very hard for a friend of the people like you. [Flaring up."\ But I I am an enemy of the people 1 [ Walking about the room^\ Wherever is my stick ? Where the devil's my stick ? Hovstad. What do you mean ? Aslaksen. Surely you would not Dr. Stockmann \standing stilt\. And now, suppose I don't give you a single farthing out of all my shares ? You must remember that we rich folk don't like parting with our money. Hovstad. And you must remember that this business of the shares can be represented in two ways. Dr. Stockmann. Yes, you're the man for that ; if I don't come to the rescue of the Messenger, you'll certainly see the affair in an evil light ; you'll hunt me down, I suppose bait me, try to strangle me as the dog does the hare. Hovstad. That is a law of nature every animal wishes to live. Aslaksen. And must take its food where he can find it, you know. Dr. Stockmann. Then, go and see if you can't find some out there in the gutter [rushes about the room] ; for now, by 3 1 o AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. Heaven ! we'll see which is the strongest animal of us three. [Finds umbrella and swings it.] Now, look here Hovstad. You surely don't mean to use violence to us I Aslaksen, I say, take care of that umbrella ! Dr. Stockmann. Out at the window with you, Mr. Hovstad ! Hovstad [by the door of the ante-room] Are you quite mad? Dr. Stockmann. Out at the window, Mr. Aslaksen ! Jump, I tell you ! As well first as last. Aslaksen [running round the writing-table]. Be moderate, doctor. I'm a delicate man; I can stand so little. [Screams]. Help ! help ! [MRS. STOCKMANN, PETRA, and HORSTER enter from sitting- room^ Mrs. Stockmann. Good Heavens ! Thomas, whatever is the matter ? Dr. Stockmann [brandishing the umbrella]. Jump out, I tell you. Out into the gutter. Hovstad. An assault upon a defenceless man ! I call you to witness, Captain Horster. [Rushes off through the sitting-room.] Aslaksen [at his wit's end]. If only I knew the local conditions [He slinks out through the sitting-room door] Mrs. Stockmann [holding back the doctor]. Now, do restrain yourself, Thomas ! Dr. Stockmann [throwing down umbrella]. On my soul, they've got off after all. Mrs. Stockmann. But what do they want with you ? Dr. Stockmann. You shall hear that later; I've other AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 3 1 1 matters to think of now. [Goes to table and writes on a card.] Look here, Katrine, what's written here ? Mrs. Stockmann. Three big Noes ; what is that ? Dr. Stockmann. That, too, you shall learn later. [Handing card.] There, Petra ; let the girl run to the Badger's with this as fast as she can. Be quick ! [PETRA goes out through the ante-room with the card] Dr. Stockmann. Well, if I haven't had visits to-day from all the emissaries of the devil, I don't know ! But now I'll sharpen my pen against them till it is a dagger ; I will dip it into venom and gall ; I'll hurl my inkstand straight at their skulls. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, but we're to go away, Thomas ! [PETRA returns] Dr. Stockmann. Well! Petra. All right. Dr. Stockmann. Good. Go away, do you say ? No, 111 be damned if we do ; we stay where we are, Katrine. Petra. Stay! Mrs Stockmann. Here in the town ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, here ; here is the field of battle ; here it shall be fought ; here I will conquer ! Now, as soon as my trousers are sewn up I'll go out into the town and look after a house, for we must have a roof over our heads for the winter. Horster. That you can have with me. Dr. Stockmann. Can I ? Horster. Yes, indeed, you can. I've room enough, and, besides, I'm hardly ever at home. Mrs. Stockmann. Ah ! How good it is of you, Horster. Petra. Thank you. Dr. Stockmann. [holding out hand]. Thanks, thanks 1 So 312 AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. that trouble, too, is over. And this very day I shall start on my work in earnest. Ah ! there is so much to root out here, Katrine ! But it's a good thing I've all my time at my dis- posal now; yes, for you know I've had notice from the Baths. Mrs. Stockmann [sighing]. Ah, yes ! I was expecting that. Dr. Stockmann. And now they want to take my prac- tice in the bargain. But let them ! The poor I shall keep anyhow those who can't pay anything ; and, good Lord ! it's they who have most need of me. But, by Heaven ! I swear they shall hear me ; I will preach to them in season and out of season, as it is written somewhere. Mrs. Stockmann. Dear Thomas, I fancy you've seen what good preaching does. Dr. Stockmann. You really are ridiculous, Katrine. Should I let myself be beaten off the field by public opinion, and the compact majority, and such devilry ? No, thanks. Besides, what I want is so simple, so clear and straight- forward. I only want to drive into the heads of these curs that the Liberals are the worst foes of free men ; that party-programmes wring the necks of all young living truths ; that considerations of expediency turn morality and righteousness upside down, until life is simply hideous. Yes, Captain Horster, don't you think I shall be able to make the people understand that ? Horster. Maybe ; I don't know much about such matters myself. Dr. Stockmann. Well, you see now you shall hear ! It is the party-leaders who must be got rid of. For you see, a party-leader is just like a wolf like a starving wolf; if he is to exist at all he needs so many small beasts a-year. Just look at Hovstad and Aslaksen ! How many AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 313 small beasts do not they devour ; or else they mangle them and knock them about, so that they're fit for nothing else but householders and subscribers to the People's Messenger. \Sits on edge of table\. Now, Katrine, just come here; see how bravely the sun shines to-day. And the blessed fresh spring air, too, blowing in upon me. Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, if only we could live on sunshine and spring air, Thomas ! Dr. Stockmann. Well, you'll have to pinch and save where you can then it'll be all right. That's my least concern. Now what does trouble me is, that I don't see any man free and brave enough to dare to take up my work after me. Petra. Ah ! don't think of that, father. You have time before you. Why, see, there are the boys already. \_Ejlif and Morten enter from the sitting-room. Mrs. Stockmann. Have you had a holiday to-day ? Morten. No ; but we had a fight with the other fellows in the play-time Ejlif. That's not true ; it was the other fellows who fought us. Morten. Yes, and so Mr. Rorlund said it would be best if we stayed at home for a few days. Dr. Stockmann [snapping his fingers and springing down from the table\ Now I have it, now I have it, on my soul ! Never shall you set foot in school again ! The boys. Never go to school ! Mrs. Stockmann. But really, Thomas Dr. Stockmann. Never, I say. I'll teach you myself that is to say, I'll not teach you any blessed thing. Morten. Hurrah ! Dr. Stockmann. but I'll make free, noble- 3M AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. minded men of you. Look here, you'll have to help me, Petra. Petra, Yes, father, you may be sure I will. Dr. Stockmann. And we'll have our school in the room where they reviled me as an enemy of the people. But we must have more pupils. I must have at least twelve boys to begin with. Mrs. Stockmann. You'll never get them here in this town. Dr. Stockmann. We shall see that. [To the boys.~\ Don't you know any street-boys some regular ragamuffins ? Morten. Yes, father, I know lots ! Dr. Stockmann. That's all right ; bring me a few speci- mens of them. I want to experiment with the good-for- nothings for once there may be some good heads amongst them. Morten. But what are we to do when we've become free and noble-minded men ? Dr. Stockmann. Drive all the wolves out to the far west, boys. [EJLIF look s rather doubtful j MORTEN /zm/.y about, shouting hurrah !] Mrs. Stockmann. If only the wolves don't drive you out, Thomas. Dr. Stockmann. You are quite mad, Katrine ! Drive me away ! now that I'm the strongest man in the town. Mrs. Stockmann. The strongest now ? Dr. Stockmann. Yes, I dare to say so bold a word ; that now I'm one of the strongest men upon earth. Morten. I say, father ! Dr. Stockmann \in a subdued voice]. Hush ! you must not speak about it yet ; but I have made a great discovery. Mrs. Stockmann. What, again ? AN ENEMY OF SOCIETY. 315 Dr. Stockmann, Assuredly. [Gathers them about him, and speaks confidently}. You see, the fact is that the strongest man upon earth is he who stands most alone. Mrs. Stockmann [shakes her head smiling\. Ah ! Thomas ! Petra [taking his hands trustfully]. Father 1 Printed by WALTER SCOTT, Felling, Newcastle-on- Tyne. The Poety EDITED BY WILLIAM SHARP. WITH INTRODUCTORY NOTICES BY VARIOUS CONTRIBUTORS In SHILLING- Monthly Volumes, Square 8yo. "Well printed on fine toned paper, with Red-line Border, and strongly bound in Cloth. Each Volume contains from 3OO to 350 pages. Cloth, Red Edges Cloth, Uncut Edges Is. Is. Red Roan, Gilt Edges 2s. 6