Chapter 1

_Sitting-room at Rosmershölm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows, ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it, REBECCA WEST is sitting knitting a large antimacassar which is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods expectantly to someone outside. Madam HELSETH is laying the table for supper._

_Rebecca_ (_folding up her work slowly_). But tell me precisely, what about this White Horse? [_Smiling quietly._

_Madam Helseth_. Lord forgive you, Miss!--(_fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table_)--but you're making fun of me!

_Rebecca_ (_gravely_). No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmershölm. Mr. ROSMER would not understand it. (_Shutting window._) Ah, here is Rector KROLL. (_Opening door_.) You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I will tell them to give us some little extra dish.

_Kroll_ (_hanging up his hat in the hall_). Many thanks. (_Wipes his boots._) May I come in? (_Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks about him._) And how do you and ROSMER get on together, eh?

_Reb._ Ever since your sister, BEATA, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, we have been as happy as two little birds together. (_After a pause, sitting down in arm-chair._) So you don't really mind my living here all alone with ROSMER? We were afraid you might, perhaps.

_Kroll_. Why, how on earth--on the contrary, I shouldn't object at all if you--(_looks at her meaningly_)--h'm!

_Reb._ (_interrupting, gravely_). For shame, Rector; how can you make such jokes!

_Kroll_ (_as if surprised_). Jokes? We do not joke in these parts--but here is ROSMER.

[_Enter ROSMER, gently and softly._

_Rosmer_. So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year's absence. (_Sits down._) We almost thought that--

_Kroll_ (_nods_). So Miss WEST was saying--but you are quite mistaken. I merely thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor BEATA's suicide, so I kept away. We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.

_Rosmer_. It was considerate--but unnecessary. REB--I _mean_, Miss WEST and I often allude to the incident, do we not?

_Reb._ (_strikes Tändstickor_). Oh, yes, indeed. (_Lighting lamp_.) Whenever we feel a little more cheerful than usual.

_Kroll_. You dear good people! (_Wanders up the room._) I came because the Spirit of Revolt has crept into my School. A Secret Society has existed for weeks in the Lower Third! To-day it has come to my knowledge that a booby-trap was prepared for me by the hand of my own son, LAURITS, and I then discovered that a hair has been inserted in my cane by my daughter HILDA! The only way in which a right-minded Schoolmaster can combat this anarchic and subversive spirit is to start a newspaper, and I thought that you, as a weak, credulous, inexperienced and impressionable kind of man, were the very person to be the Editor.

[_REB. laughs softly, as if to herself. ROSMER jumps up and sits down again._

_Reb._ (_with a look at Rosmer_). Tell him now!

_Rosmer_ (_returning the look_). I can't--some other evening. Well, perhaps-- (_To KROLL._) I can't be your Editor--because (_in a low voice_) I--I am on the side of LAURITS and HILDA!

_Kroll_ (_looks from one to the other, gloomily_). H'm!

_Rosmer_. Yes. Since we last met, I have changed my views. I am going to create a new democracy, and awaken it to its true task of making all the people of this country noblemen, by freeing their wills, and purifying their minds!

_Kroll_. What _do_ you mean? [_Takes up his hat._

_Rosmer_ (_bowing his head_). I don't quite know, my dear friend; it was REB--I should say. Miss WEST's scheme.

_Kroll_. H'm! (_A suspicion appears in his face._) Now I begin to believe that what BEATA said about schemes--no matter. But, under the circumstances, I will _not_ stay to supper.

[_Takes up his stick, and walks out._

_Rosmer_. I _told_ you he would be annoyed, I shall go to bed now. I don't want any supper. [_He lights a candle, and goes out; presently his footsteps are heard overhead, as he undresses. REBECCA pulls a bell-rope._

_Reb._ (_to Madam HELSETH, who enters with dishes_). No, Mr. ROSMER will not have supper to-night. (_In a lighter tone._) Perhaps he is afraid of the nightmare. There are so many sorts of White Horses in this world!

_Mad. H._ (_shaking_). Lord! lord! that Miss WEST--the things she does say! [_REB. goes out through door, knitting antimacassar thoughtfully, as Curtain falls._