Three Comedies. Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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the ball? I certainly never promised that.
Axel. Wherever I wish.
Laura. But you mustn't wish that, Axel darling—because it is quite impossible.
Axel. It is quite possible, if you like to do it.
Laura. Yes, but I don't like.
Axel. That same day you also heard that a man is his wife's lord and master. You must be willing to leave them, if I wish it; it was on those terms that you gave me your hand, you obstinate little woman.
Laura. It was just so as to be able to be always with father and mother, that I did it.
Axel. So that was it. Then you have no wish to be always with me?
Laura. Yes—but not to forsake them.
Axel. Never?
Laura. Never? (Softly.) Yes, some day—when I must.
Axel. When must you?
Laura. When? When mother and father—are gone. But why think about such things?
Axel. Don't cry, darling! Listen to me. Would you never be willing to follow me—until they have left us?
Laura. No!—how can you think so?
Axel. Ah, Laura, you don't love me.
Laura. Why do you say such a thing? You only want to make me unhappy.
Axel. You don't even know what love is.
Laura. I don't?—That is not kind of you.
Axel. Tell me what it is then, sweetheart!
Laura (kissing him). Now you mustn't talk about it any more; because you know, if you do, I shall have red eyes, and then father and mother will want to know why they are red, and I shall not be able to tell them, and it will be very embarrassing.
Axel. Better a few tears now than many later on.
Laura. But what have I done to cry about?
Axel. You have given your hand without giving your heart with it; your tongue said "yes," but not your will; you have given yourself without realising what it means. And so, what ought to be the greatest and purest happiness in my life begins to turn to sorrow, and the future looks dark.
Laura. Oh, dear!—and is all this my fault?
Axel. No, it is my own fault. I have been deluding myself with flattering hopes. I thought it would be so easy a matter for my love to awaken yours; but I cannot make you understand me. Every way I have tried has failed. So I must call up my courage, and try the last chance.
Laura. The last chance? What do you mean?
Axel. Laura, I can't tell you how dearly I love you!
Laura. If you did, you wouldn't hurt me. I never hurt you.
Axel. Well, give in to me in just this one thing, and I shall believe it is the promise of more. Go with me to the ball!
Laura. You know I cannot do that!
Axel. Ah! then I dare not delay any longer!
Laura. You frighten me! You look so angry.
Axel. No, no. But things cannot go on like this any longer. I can't stand it!
Laura. Am I so bad, then? No one ever told me so before.
Axel. Don't cry, my dainty little fairy. You have nothing to blame yourself for—except for being so bewitchingly sweet whether you are laughing or crying. You exhale sweetness like a flower. I want your influence to pervade every place where I am, to distract me when I am moody and laugh away my longings. Hush, hush—no red eyes. Let no one see that. Here is your mother coming—no, it is Mathilde.
[Enter MATHILDE.]
Mathilde. Your coffee is getting cold.
Axel. We are just coming. At least, Laura is. I want to speak to you for a moment, if I may.
Mathilde. To me?
Axel. If you will allow me.
Mathilde. By all means.
Laura. But you are coming in to breakfast?
Axel. In a moment, darling.
Laura. And you are not angry with me any longer?
Axel (following her). I never was that. I never could be!
Laura. I am so glad! (Runs out.)
Mathilde. What is it you want?
Axel. Can you keep a secret?
Mathilde. No.
Axel. You won't?
Mathilde. No.
Axel. You won't share any more confidences with me? (Takes her hand.) You used to—
Mathilde (drawing back her hand and moving away from him). Yes, I used to.
Axel. Why won't you any longer? (Goes up to her.) What is changed?
Mathilde. You. You are married now.
Axel. No, that is just what I am not.
Mathilde. Indeed.
Axel. You have sharp eyes. You must have seen that.
Mathilde. I thought it was all just as you wished.
Axel. You are giving me very abrupt answers. Have I offended you?
Mathilde. What makes you ask that?
Axel. Because lately you have avoided me. Remember how kind you were to me once—indeed, that I owe you everything. It was through you, you know, that I got at her. I had to make assignations with you, in order to meet her. I had to offer you my arm so as to be able to give her the other, and to talk to you so that she might hear my voice. The little darling thought she was doing you a service—
Mathilde. When as a matter of fact it was I that was doing her one—
Axel. Yes, and without suspecting it! That was the amusing part of it.
Mathilde. Yes, that was the amusing part of it.
Axel. But soon people began to say that you and I were secretly engaged, and that we were making a stalking-horse of Laura; so for her sake I had to bring matters to a head rather quickly.
Mathilde. Yes, you took a good many people by surprise.
Axel. Including even yourself, I believe—not to mention the old folk and Laura. But the worst of it is that I took my own happiness by surprise, too.
Mathilde. What do you mean?
Axel. Of course I knew Laura was only a child; but I thought she would grow up when she felt the approach of love. But she has never felt its approach; she is like a bud that will not open, and I cannot warm the atmosphere. But you could do that—you, in whom she has confided all her first longings—you, whose kind heart knows so well how to sacrifice its happiness for others. You know you are to some extent responsible, too, for the fact that the most important event in her life came upon her a little unpreparedly; so you ought to take her by the hand and guide her first steps away from her parents and towards me—direct her affections towards me—
Mathilde. I? (A pause.)
Axel. Won't you?
Mathilde. No—
Axel. But why not? You love her, don't you?
Mathilde. I do; but this is a thing—
Axel.—that you can do quite well! For you are better off than the rest of us—you have many more ways of reaching a person's soul than we have. Sometimes when we have been discussing something, and then you have given your opinion, it has reminded me of the refrains to the old ballads, which sum up the essence of the whole poem in two lines.
Mathilde. Yes, I have heard you flatter before.
Axel. I flatter? Why, what I have just asked you to do is a clearer proof than anything else how great my—
Mathilde. Stop, stop! I won't do it!
Axel. Why not? At least be frank with me!
Mathilde.