ACT III

_A wine-cellar, with rows of casks along both side walls. The doorway in the rear is closed by an iron door_.

_Every cask is marked with the name of the urine kept in it. Those nearest the foreground have small shelves above the taps, and the shelves hold glasses_.

_At the right, in the foreground, stands a wine-press and near it are a couple of straw-bottomed chairs_.

_Bottles, funnels, siphons, crates, etc., are scattered about the place_.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _are seated by the wine-press_.

ERIC. I think it's awfully dull.

THYRA. I think grandmother is nasty.

ERIC. You mustn't talk like that.

THYRA. No, perhaps not, but she _is_ nasty.

ERIC. You mustn't, Thyra, for then the little boy won't come and play with us again.

THYRA. Then I won't say it again. I only wish it wasn't so dark.

ERIC. Don't you remember, Thyra, that the boy said we shouldn't complain----

THYRA. Then I won't do it any more--[_The spot of sunlight appears on the ground_] Oh, look at the sun-spot!

[_She jumps up and places her foot on the light._

ERIC. You mustn't step on the sun, Thyra. That's a sin!

THYRA. I didn't mean to step on him. I just wanted to have him. Now see--I have him in my arms, and I can pat him.--Look! Now he's kissing me right on the mouth.

_The_ PLAYMATE _enters from behind one of the casks; he wears a white garment reaching below his knees, and a blue scarf around the waist; on his feet are sandals; he is blond, and when he appears the cellar grows lighter_.

ERIC. [_Goes to meet him and shakes hands with him_] Hello, little boy!--Come and shake hands, Thyra!--What's your name, boy? You must tell us to-day.

_The_ PLAYMATE _merely looks at him_.

THYRA. You shouldn't be so forward, Eric, for it makes him bashful.--But tell me, little boy, who is your papa?

PLAYMATE. Don't be so curious. When you know me better, you'll learn all those things.--But let us play now.

THYRA. Yes, but nothing instructive, for that is so tedious. I want it just to be nice.

PLAYMATE. [_Smiling_] Shall I tell a story?

THYRA. Yes, but not out of the Bible, for all those we know by heart----

_The_ PLAYMATE _smiles again_.

ERIC. You say such things, Thyra, that he gets hurt----

PLAYMATE. No, my little friends, you don't hurt me--But now, if you are really good, we'll go and play in the open----

ERIC. Oh, yes, yes!--But then, you know, grandmother won't let us----

PLAYMATE. Yes, your grandmother has said that she wished you were out, and so we'll go before she changes her mind. Come on now!

THYRA. Oh, what fun! Oh----

_The door in the rear flies open and through the doorway is seen a sunlit field planted with rye ready for the harvest. Among the yellow ears grow bachelor's-buttons and daisies_.

PLAYMATE. Come, children! Come into the sunlight and feel the joy of living!

THYRA. Can't we take the sun-spot along? It's a pity to leave it here in the darkness.

PLAYMATE. Yes, if it is willing to go with you. Call it!

ERIC _and_ THYRA _go toward the door, followed by the spot of light_.

ERIC. Isn't it a nice little spot! [_Talks to the spot as if it were a cat_] Puss, puss, puss, puss!

PLAYMATE. Take it up on your arm, Thyra, for I don't think it can get over the threshold.

THYRA _gets the spot of light on her arm, which she bends as if carrying something_.

_All three go out; the door closes itself. Pause_.

_The_ JUDGE _enters with a lantern, the_ OLD LADY _with the birch rod_.

OLD LADY. It's cool and nice here, and then there is no sun to bother you.

JUDGE. And how quiet it is. But where are the children?

[_Both look for the children_.

JUDGE. It looks as if they had taken us at our word.

OLD LADY. Us? Please observe that I didn't promise anything, for he--you know--talked only to you toward the end.

JUDGE. Perhaps, but this time we had better obey, for I don't want to have any more trouble with hail-storms and such things.--However, the children are not here, and I suppose they'll come back when they get hungry.

OLD LADY. And I wish them luck when they do! [_The rod is snatched out of her hand and dances across the floor; finally it disappears behind one of the casks_] Now it's beginning again.

JUDGE. Well, why don't you submit and do as he--you know who!--says? I, for my part, don't dare to do wrong any longer. The growing grapes have been destroyed, and we must take pleasure in what is already safe. Come here, Caroline, and let us have a glass of something good to brace us up! [_He knocks on one of the casks and draws a glass of wine from it_] This is from the year of the comet--anno 1869, when the big comet came, and everybody said it meant war. And, of course, war did break out.

[_He offers a filled glass to his wife_.

OLD LADY. You drink first!

JUDGE. Well, now--did you think there might be poison in this, too?

OLD LADY. No, really, I didn't--but--we'll never again know what peace is, or happiness!

JUDGE. Do as I do: submit! [_He drinks_.

OLD LADY. I want to, and I try to, but when I come to think how badly other people have treated us, I feel that I am just as good as anybody else. [_She drinks_] That's a very fine wine! [_She sits down_.

JUDGE. The wine is good, and it makes the mind easier.--Yes, the wiseacres say that we are rapscallions, one and all, so I can't see what right anybody has to go around finding fault with the rest. [_He drinks_] My own actions have always been legal; that is, in keeping with prevailing laws and constitutions. If others happened to be ignorant of the law, they had only themselves to blame, for no one has a right to ignorance of that kind. For that reason, if Adolph does not pay the rent, it is he who breaks the law, and not I.

OLD LADY. And yet the blame falls on you, and you are made to appear like a criminal. Yes, it is as I have always said: there is no justice in this world. If you had done right, you should have brought suit against Adolph and turned out the whole family. But then it isn't too late yet---- [_She drinks_.

JUDGE. Well, you see, if I were to carry out the law strictly, then I should sue for the annulment of his marriage, and that would cut him off from the property----

OLD LADY. Why don't you do it?

JUDGE. [_Looking around_] We-e-ell!--I suppose that would settle the matter once for all. A divorce would probably not be granted, but I think it would be possible to get the marriage declared invalid on technical grounds----

OLD LADY. And if there be no such grounds?

JUDGE. [_Showing the influence of the wine_] There are technical grounds for everything, if you only look hard enough.

OLD LADY. Well, then! Think of it--how that good-for-nothing is wishing the life out of us--but now he'll see how "the natural course of events" makes the drones take to the road----

JUDGE. Ha-ha! You're right, quite right! And then, you know, when I think it over carefully--what reason have we for self-reproach? What wrong have we done? It's mean to bring up that about the monstrance--it didn't hurt anybody, did it? And as for my being guilty of perjury: that's a pure lie. I got blood-poison in the finger--that's all--and quite a natural thing.

OLD LADY. Just as if I didn't know it. And I may as well add that this hail-storm a while ago--why, it was as plain a thing as if it had been foretold in the Farmer's Almanac!

JUDGE. Exactly! That's what I think too. And for that reason, Caroline, I think we had better forget all that fool talk--and if you feel as I do, we'll just turn to another priest and get him to consecrate the mausoleum.

OLD LADY. Well, why shouldn't we?

JUDGE. Yes, why shouldn't we? Perhaps because that mesmerist comes here and talks a lot of superstitious nonsense?

OLD LADY. Tell me, do you really think he is nothing but a mesmerist?

JUDGE. [_Blustering_] That fellow? He's a first-class charlatan. A che-ar-la-tan!

OLD LADY. [_Looking around_] I am not so sure.

JUDGE. But I am sure. Su-ure! And if he should ever come before my eyes again--just now, for instance--I'll drink his health and say: here's to you, old humourist! [As _he raises the glass, it is torn out of his hand and is seen to disappear through the wall_] What was that? [_The lantern goes out._ OLD LADY. Help!

[_A gust of wind is heard, and then all is silence again_.

JUDGE. You just get some matches, and I'll clear this matter up. For I am no longer afraid of anything. Not of anything!

OLD LADY. Oh, don't, don't!

THE OTHER ONE. [_Steps from behind one of the casks_] Now we'll have to have a talk in private.

JUDGE. [_Frightened_] Where did you come from?

THE OTHER ONE. That is no concern of yours.

JUDGE. [_Straightening himself up_] What kind of language is that?

THE OTHER ONE. Your own!--Off with your cap! [_He blows at the_ JUDGE, _whose cap is lifted off his head and falls to the ground_] Now you shall hear sentence pronounced: you have wanted to sever what has been united by Him whose name I may not mention. Therefore you shall be separated from her who ought to be the staff of your old age. Alone you must run the gauntlet. Alone you must bear the qualms of sleepless nights.

JUDGE. Is that mercy?

THE OTHER ONE. It is justice; it is the law: an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth! The gospel has a different sound, but of that you didn't want to hear. Now, move I along. [_He beats the air with the rattan._

_The scene changes to a garden with cypresses and yew-trees clipped in the shape of obelisks, candelabra, vases, etc. Under the trees grow roses, hollyhocks, foxgloves, etc. At the centre of it is a spring above which droops a gigantic fuchsia in full bloom_.[1]

_Back of the garden appears a field of rye, all yellow and ready to be cut. Bachelor's-buttons and daisies grow among the rye. A scarecrow hangs in the middle of the field. The distant background is formed by vineyards and light-coloured rocks with beech woods and ruined castles on them_.

_A road runs across the stage in the near background. At the right is a covered Gothic arcade. In front of this stands a statue of the Madonna with the Child_.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _enter hand in hand with the_ PLAYMATE.

ERIC. Oh, how beautiful it is!

THYRA. Who is living here?

PLAYMATE. Whoever feels at home has his home here.

THYRA. Can we play here?

PLAYMATE. Anywhere except in that avenue over there to the right.

ERIC. And may we pick the flowers?

PLAYMATE. You may pick any flowers you want, but you mustn't touch the tree at the fountain.

THYRA. What kind of tree is that?

ERIC. Why, you know, it is one of those they call [_lowering his voice_] "Christ's Blood-drops."

THYRA. You should cross yourself, Eric, when you mention the name of the Lord.

ERIC. [_Makes the sign of the cross_] Tell me, little boy, why mustn't we touch the tree?

THYRA. You should obey without asking any questions, Eric.--But tell me, little boy, why is that ugly scarecrow hanging there? Can't we take it away?

PLAYMATE. Yes, indeed, you may, for then the birds will come and sing for us.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _run into the rye-field and tear down the scarecrow_.

ERIC. Away with you, you nasty old scarecrow! Come and eat now, little birds! [_The Golden Bird comes flying from the right and perches on the fuchsia_] Oh, see the Golden Bird, Thyra!

THYRA. Oh, how pretty it is! Does it sing, too?

[_The bird calls like a cuckoo_.

ERIC. Can you understand what the bird sings, boy?

PLAYMATE. No, children, the birds have little secrets of their own which they have a right to keep hidden.

THYRA. Of course, Eric, don't you see, otherwise the children could tell where the nests are, and then they would take away the eggs, and that would make the birds sorry, and they couldn't have any children of their own.

ERIC. Don't talk like a grown-up, Thyra.

PLAYMATE. [_Putting a finger across his lips_] Hush! Somebody is coming. Now let us see if he likes to stay with us or not.

_The_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP _enters, stops in surprise, and begins to look around_.

PLAYMATE. Well, boy, won't you come and play with us?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. [_Takes off his cap; speaks bashfully_] Oh, you don't want to play with me.

PLAYMATE. Why shouldn't we?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. I am sooty all over. And besides I don't know how to play--I hardly know what it is.

THYRA. Think of it, the poor boy has never played.

PLAYMATE. What is your name?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. My name? They call me Ole--but----

PLAYMATE. But what's your other name?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. Other name? I have none.

PLAYMATE. But your papa's name?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. I have no papa.

PLAYMATE. And your mamma's?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. I don't know.

PLAYMATE. He has no papa or mamma. Come to the spring here, boy, and I'll make you as white as a little prince.

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. If anybody else said it, I shouldn't believe it----

PLAYMATE. Why do you believe it then, when I say it?

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. I don't know, but I think you look as if it would be true.

PLAYMATE. Give the boy your hand, Thyra!--Would you give him a kiss, too?

THYRA. [_After a moment's hesitation_] Yes, when you ask me!

[Footnote 1: The Swedish name of this plant is "Christ's Blood-drops."]

_She kisses the_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP. _Then the_ PLAYMATE _dips his hand in the spring and sprays a little water on the face of the_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP, _whose black mask at once disappears, leaving his face white_.

PLAYMATE. Now you are white again. And now you must go behind that rose-bush there and put on new clothes.

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. Why do I get all this which I don't deserve?

PLAYMATE. Because you don't believe that you deserve it.

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. [_Going behind the rose-bush_] Then I thank you for it, although I don't understand what it means.

THYRA. Was he made a chimney-sweep because he had been bad?

PLAYMATE. No, he has never been bad. But he had a bad guardian who took all his money away from him, and so he had to go out into the world to earn a living--See how fine he looks now!

_The_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP _enters dressed in light summer clothes_.

PLAYMATE. [_To the_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP] Go to the arcade now, and you'll meet somebody you love--and who loves you!

CHIMNEY-SWEEP. Who could love me?

PLAYMATE. Go and find out.

_The_ CHIMNEY-SWEEP _goes across the stage to the arcade, where he is met by the_ LADY IN WHITE, _who puts her arms around him_.

THYRA. Who is living in there?

PLAYMATE. [_With his finger on his lips_] Polly Pry!--But who is coming there?

_The_ OLD LADY _appears on the road with a sack on her back and a stick in her hand_.

ERIC. It's grandmother! Oh, now we are in for it!

THYRA. Oh, my! It's grandmother!

PLAYMATE. Don't get scared, children. I'll tell her it's my fault.

ERIC. No, you mustn't, for then she'll beat you.

PLAYMATE. Well, why shouldn't I take a beating for my friends?

ERIC. No, I'll do it myself!

THYRA. And I, too!

PLAYMATE. Hush! And come over here--then you won't be scolded. [_They hide_.

OLD LADY. [_Goes to the spring_] So, this is the famous spring that is said to cure everything--after the angel has stirred it up, of course!--But I suppose it is nothing but lies. Well, I might have a drink anyhow, and water is water. [_She bends down over the spring_] What is it I see? Eric and Thyra with a strange boy! What can it mean? For they are not here. It must be an oracle spring. [_She takes a cup that stands by the spring, fills it with water and drinks_] Ugh, it tastes of copper--he must have been here and poisoned the water, too! Everything is poisoned! Everything!--And I feel tired, too, although the years have not been hard on me--[_She looks at her reflection in the spring and tosses her head_] On the contrary, I look quite youthful--but it's hard to walk, and still harder to get up--[_She struggles vainly to rise_] My God, my God, have mercy! Don't leave me lying here!

PLAYMATE. [_Makes a sign to the children to stay where they are; then he goes up to the_ OLD LADY _and wipes the perspiration from her forehead_] Rise, and leave your evil ways!

OLD LADY. [_Rising_] Who is that?--Oh, it's you, my nice gentleman, who has led the children astray?

PLAYMATE. Go, ungrateful woman! I have wiped the sweat of fear from your brow; I have raised you up when your own strength failed you, and you reward me with angry words. Go--go!

OLD LADY _stares astonished at him; then her eyes drop, and she turns and goes out_.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _come forward_.

ERIC. But I am sorry for grandmother just the same, although she is nasty.

THYRA. It isn't nice here, and I want to go home.

PLAYMATE. Wait a little! Don't be so impatient.--There comes somebody else we know.

_The_ JUDGE _appears on the road_.

PLAYMATE. He cannot come here and defile the spring. [_He waves his hand; the spot of sunlight strikes the_ JUDGE, _making him turn around and walk away_] It is nice of you to be sorry for the old people, but you must believe that what I do is right. Do you believe that?

ERIC _and_ THYRA. Yes, we believe it, we believe it!

THYRA. But I want to go home to mamma!

PLAYMATE. I'll let you go.

THE OTHER ONE _appears in the background and hides himself behind the bushes_.

PLAYMATE. For now I must go. The Angelus bell will soon be ringing----

ERIC. Where are you going, little boy?

PLAYMATE. There are other children I must play with--far away from here, where you cannot follow me. But now, when I leave you here, don't forget what I have told you: that you mustn't touch the tree!

ERIC. We'll obey! We will! But don't go away, for it will soon be dark!

PLAYMATE. How is that? Anybody who has a good conscience and knows his evening prayer has nothing, nothing to be afraid of.

THYRA. When will you come back to us, little boy?

PLAYMATE. Next Christmas I come back, and every Christmas!--Good night, my little friends!

_He kisses their foreheads and goes out between the bushes; when he reappears in the background, he is carrying a cross with a banner like that carried by the Christ-Child in old paintings; the Angelus bell begins to ring; as he raises the banner and waves it in greeting to the children, he becomes surrounded by a clear, white light; then he goes out_.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _kneel and pray silently while the bell is ringing_.

ERIC. [_Having crossed himself_] Do you know who the boy was, Thyra?

THYRA. It was the Saviour!

THE OTHER ONE _steps forward_.

THYRA. [_Scared, runs to Eric, who puts his arms around her to protect her_] My!

ERIC. [_To_ THE OTHER ONE] What do you want? You nasty thing!

THE OTHER ONE. I only wanted--Look at me!

ERIC. Yes?

THE OTHER ONE. I am looking like this because once I touched the tree. Afterward it was my joy to tempt others into doing the same. But now, since I have grown old, I have come to repent, and now I am remaining here to warn men, but nobody believes me--nobody--because I lied once.

ERIC. You don't need to warn us, and you can't tempt us.

THE OTHER ONE. Tut, tut, tut! Not so high-and-mighty, my little friend! Otherwise it's all right.

ERIC. Well, go away then, for I don't want to listen to you, and you scare my sister!

THE OTHER ONE. I am going, for I don't feel at home here, and I have business elsewhere. Farewell, children!

AMELIA. [_Is heard calling from the right_] Eric and Thyra!

ERIC _and_ THYRA. Oh, there is mamma--dear little mamma!

AMELIA _enters_.

ERIC _and_ THYRA _rush into her arms_.

THE OTHER ONE _turns away to hide his emotion_.

_Curtain_.