SCENE I

(SCENE.—A large hall in Gran's factory. The walls are bare. On the left, about half-way forward, is a small platform. A meeting of the shareholders of a railway company is in progress. Facing the platform are seated the gentry; the common herd, mainly farmers and work-people, are sitting and standing about wherever they can find room. On the right, large windows are standing open; through these another crowd can be seen, listening from outside. GRAN is standing in front of the platform, speaking to the meeting.)

Gran. And, as it was found impossible for the main line of the railway to touch our town, we determined, rather than allow all our exertions to be wasted, to construct a branch line on our own account. I had the honour to be elected chairman of the board of directors of this undertaking. No directors ever had more unrestricted powers than were given to us—possibly because there were no two opinions as to the route the line should take the natural formation of the ground indicated it unmistakably. It was only when we approached the question of the purchase of our rolling-stock that any dissension arose—not among the directors, but among the shareholders. As the majority of the latter are farmers and work-people, we had decided on buying only one class of railway carriage of a type slightly more comfortable than the ordinary third-class carriage. That is the extent of our misdeeds! To-day's meeting will probably show what the general sense on the matter is. Our powers being unlimited, we were under no obligation to consult any one in the matter; but, notwithstanding that, we decided to call a meeting of the shareholders and submit the question to them. And, on the directors' behalf, I must thank the shareholders for having attended in such numbers; young and old, men and women, I dare say quite a third of the total number of shareholders are present. The meeting will now proceed to elect a chairman. (Sits down.)

The Mayor (after a pause). I beg to move that Mr. Koll, our chief magistrate, whom it is a great pleasure to see honouring this meeting with his presence, have the further kindness to take the chair.

Gran. The motion before the meeting is that the Chief Magistrate shall take the chair. Shall I assume it to be carried? (Silence follows.)

The Mayor. Yes. (Laughter.)

Gran. The meeting should preferably elect some one who may be considered to be unaffected by considerations of party.

Alstad (half rising, with his glasses in his hand). Then we shall have to send for some one that does not live in these parts! There is no one of that sort left here! (Sits down, amidst laughter.)

The Priest. All authority springs from on high. Obedience to those set in authority over us is obedience to the Almighty. But it is against this very obedience that people are rebelling nowadays.

Gran. It is precisely some one to be in authority over us that we want to elect. At present we have no one.

The Priest. No, that's just it. Every meeting nowadays seems to claim authority on its own account. Let rather show our respect to actual authority—such respect as we would show to our fathers. (Sits down.)

Gran. Then, as far as I can grasp the situation, the Chief Magistrate has been proposed and seconded?

The Priest. Yes.

Gran. Does any one wish to propose any one else? (Silence.)

Alstad. May I request the Chief Magistrate to take the chair?

Koll (getting up). I don't know that it is any great compliment to be elected in this way; but I will take the chair, for the sole reason of enabling the meeting to proceed to business. (Takes his place on the platform, and raps on the table with a mallet.) I declare the meeting open.

Gran (getting up). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

Gran. The motion proposed by the directors is this: "That only one class of railway carriage shall be purchased, slightly more comfortable than the ordinary third-class carriage." (Gives the motion in writing to the chairman, and sits down.)

Koll. The following is the motion submitted to meeting. (Reads it out.) Who wishes to speak on the motion? (Silence.) Come, some one must speak on it—or I shall have to put it to the vote forthwith. (Silence, followed by laughter here and there.)

The Priest. Mr. Chairman!

Koll. The Priest will address the meeting.

The Priest. I see, in this assembly, a number of young men, even a number of maidens; and I feel bound to ask whether young men, and even maidens, are to be allowed to take part in these proceedings?

Koll. Any shareholder that is of age has the right to.

The Priest. But St. Paul expressly tells us that women are not to speak in public places.

Koll. Well, they can hold their tongues, then. (Laughter.)

The Priest. But even the fact of voting at a railway meeting does not seem to me to be in accordance with the humility and modesty that both Nature and the Scriptures indicate as characteristic of woman. I believe it to be the first step on a wrong road. The apostle says—

Koll. We must leave them to decide the matter for themselves. Does any one wish to—?

The Priest (interrupting him). Mr. Chairman, if you will not permit me to quote the apostle, allow me at all events to say that the spectacle of a young man voting against his father, or a woman voting against her husband—

Koll. Will you tell me who could prohibit it? Does any one wish to speak—?

The Priest (interrupting). The Scriptures prohibit it, Mr. Chairman!—the Scriptures, which we are all bound to obey, even—

Gran (getting up and interrupting him). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

Gran. I only want to ask whether—

The Priest. But I was addressing the meeting!

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

The Priest. I protest against that ruling!

Alstad (half rising). Our worthy Priest must obey authority. (Sits down amidst laughter.)

The Priest. Not when it does an injustice! I appeal to the meeting!

Koll. Very good!—Will those in favour of the Priest addressing the meeting kindly stand up? (No one gets up; and those who were previously standing bob down. Laughter.) Carried unanimously, that the Priest do not address the meeting. (The PRIEST sits down.) Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

Gran (getting up). I withdraw from my right! (Renewed laughter.)

The Mayor (getting up). Mr. Chairman!

Koll. The Mayor will address the meeting.

The Mayor. I am one of many to whom this proposal of the directors seems extraordinary, to say the least of it. Do they propose that the ladies of my family—I will leave myself out of the question, for as a public man I have to rub shoulders with all sorts of people—do they propose, I say, that ladies who have been delicately brought up shall travel with any Tom, Dick and Harry?—perhaps with convicts being conveyed to gaol, or with journeymen labourers? Is his honour the Chief Magistrate, who is a Commander of a noble Order of Knighthood, to travel side by side with a drunken navvy? Supposing the King were to pay a visit to this beautiful district, which has acquired such a reputation since so many of the best people from town have taken villas here; is his Majesty to make the journey in one of these third-class carriages, with the chance of travelling in company with tradesman stinking of stale cheese?—with folk who, moreover—well, perhaps in common decency I ought not to go on, as ladies are present. (Laughter.) "Economy," I hear some one suggest. That word is in great favour nowadays. But I should like to know what economy there is getting your clothes soiled? (Laughter.) Does a first-class carriage wear out sooner than a third class? It costs more to build, no doubt, but that is soon made up by the higher fares charged. I can discover no reasonable ground for this proposal, look at it how you will from the commercial point of view. One has to look at the political aspect of the matter, to understand it; and I am reluctant to drag in politics. I will only say, in conclusion, that it must be those who have framed this proposal that expect to derive some profit from it; the railway certainly would derive none. (Sits down.)

Koll. That last remark was a little like an accusation—

The Mayor (getting up). I only alluded to what is in every one's mind. (Sits down.)

Koll. A speaker is not in order in making accusations, even though they be assumed to be in every one's mind.—I see that Mr. Alstad wishes to speak.

Alstad. Human nature is frail. That seems to me a sufficient explanation of how such a proposal came to be laid before us. But honestly—for we all ought to be honest!—it seems to me that any material advantage it might bring would be more than counterbalanced by loss of esteem. (Uproar.) There has been quite a different spirit in the place of late years—what with the factories, and the stranger workmen, and the summer visitors. We never used to have so much unrest or to hear so much of this talk about "equality." And now, if we are to give the impression that there is only one social class here—and that a third class—I know that I shall be by no means alone in feeling offended. We certainly don't want to sit on our work-people's laps; and, equally, we don't want to have them sitting on ours. (Sits down.)

Gran. Our friend the Mayor is very fond of talking of his loyalty; but I must say I am surprised at his dragging the King even into this matter. As for the matter of the railway carriage in which one of so high degree would travel here—well, if our carriages are not good enough, surely his Majesty's private saloon can be used on our line as well as on the main line. And as for any of us ordinary mortals who are afraid of mixing with the common herd, surely they can sit together in carriages by themselves. The carriages would be separate; they would only be of the same kind. I think there would be little fear of their being exposed to intrusion on the part of our country-folk. They are much more apt to be more timidly shy than is even desirable. On all small lines—even on many of the bigger ones—it is the less luxurious carriages, the second and third class, that for the cost of the more luxurious ones; it is the third class that pays for the first. But that some passengers should travel comfortably at the expense of those who travel less comfortably, is what we wish to avoid. (Applause.) An old resident of the yeoman class has reproached us with wishing to alter our customs. Well, if one of our old customs is the aristocratic one which makes the gulf that separates masters and men wider than it already is, all I can say is that the sooner it is abolished the better; for it is not a good custom; it is even a dangerous one. (Murmurs.) And as for the political aspect of the question—

Koll. Don't you think we should leave politics out of the question?

Gran (bows, with a laugh). That is just what I was going to say, Mr. Chairman; that we ought to leave politics out out of the question. (Sits down, amidst laughter applause. The audience, first the younger men and then the older farmers, begin arguing the matter with one another, more and more loudly.)

Koll. I must beg the meeting to keep quiet, as long as this business is under discussion. The Mayor wishes to speak.

The Mayor. I admit that I am loyal—

Koll. Those people outside must be quiet!

Alstad (going to the window). You must keep quiet!

The Mayor. I admit I am loyal! I count it a point of honour, as a native of the place, to show his Majesty that our first thought when we planned this railway was, at that important moment, that his Majesty might possibly be pleased to manifest a desire to pay us a visit. "Let him use his own private saloon," we are told! No, Mr. Chairman, that is not the way to speak when we are speaking of his Majesty! And what about his Majesty's suite? Are they to travel third class? What I say is that we are casting a slight on his Majesty if we cast a slight on his railway carriage—I should say, on his suite. And I go farther than that. I say that his Majesty's functionaries are his Majesty's representatives, and that it is casting an additional slight upon his Majesty not to show a proper respect for them. I know that this jars upon the ears of many present; they do not consider that a man who holds a public office should be shown any more respect than any one else. The majority rules, and the majority only thinks of its own interests and those of its servile supporters. But even in this community of ours there is a minority that bears the burden of its affairs and represents its honour; and we will never consent to be dragged down into the mire of this "equality" into which you want to plunge each and every one of us! (Uproar.)

Koll. The honourable speaker appears to me to be trenching upon politics—

The Mayor. Possibly I am, Mr. Chairman; but what honest man can shirk the truth? Only compare the present state of things in this community with what was the case when everything here was as it should be; when the King and his officials were respected; when public affairs were in the hands of those who knew how to direct them; when we used to have singing competitions, shooting competitions, and other festal meetings of that kind. And—yes—well—compare, I say, the conditions in those days with our conditions to-day—that is to say, with all this talk of "the people;" as, for instance—

Koll. It is railway carriages that we are discussing.

The Mayor. Quite so! But what is it that is at the bottom of this proposal, Mr. Chairman? Does it not spring from that passion for destruction, for a universal levelling which aims at abolishing the monarchy, at destroying authority—

The Priest. And the Church too, my friend!

The Mayor.—and the Church, it is quite true! Yes, it is because they desire the Church and—

Koll. It is railway carriages that we are discussing.

The Mayor. Exactly. But an old public official like myself, who once was held in respect, when he sees the pillars of society tottering and feels the keenest pang of sorrow at—

Koll. For the last time, it is railway carriages that we are discussing!

The Mayor (overcome by his feelings). I have no more say. (Sits down.)

Koll. Mr. Alstad wishes to speak.

Alstad (getting up). The question before the meeting is itself a small matter; but it is the consequences of it that I fear. We may expect any proposal of the same kidney now. Never let it be said that our community was eager to range itself under this banner of "equality!" It bears too old and honoured a name for that! But there is one thing I want to say. We have always, before this, felt it an honour and a privilege to have the richest man in these parts living amongst us. But when we see him one of the most eager in support of a "popular" proposal of this sort, then it appears, to me at all events, to be absolutely unaccountable how—oh, well, I won't run the risk making what our chairman calls "accusations"; I will sit down and hold my tongue. I have the right to do that at all events. (Sits down.)

Koll. Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

Flink. Three cheers for Mr. Gran! (Almost the whole meeting cheers lustily. KOLL shouts at them and hammers on the table with his mallet in vain.)

Koll (when peace is restored). I must ask the meeting to show some respect for its chairman. If not, I will leave the chair.—Mr. Gran will address the meeting.

Gran. The plan that we are proposing is no new one. It has been in practice for a long time. In America—

The Priest, Alstad, and others. Yes, in America!

The Mayor (getting up). Mr. Chairman, are we to have politics, after all?

Koll. I cannot see that to mention America is to talk politics.

The Mayor. Then what is politics, if America isn't?

Koll. To talk politics is—for instance—to use the arguments your worship did. Mr. Gran will proceed.

Gran. I see that the Priest wishes to speak. I shall be happy to give way.

Koll. The Priest will address the meeting.

The Priest. I see here, in this assembly, a number of those whom I am accustomed to address in more solemn surroundings. My dear parishioners, it was for your sake that I came here. You have heard for yourselves—the whole question is a political one; and, dear fellow Christians, let me entreat you to shun politics! Did not our Lord Himself say: "My kingdom is not of this world"? This freedom, this equality, of which they talk is not the soul's freedom, not that equality which—

Koll. I would suggest to the reverend speaker that he should postpone his remarks until the next time he gets into the pulpit. (Slight laughter.)

The Priest. One should be instant in season and out of season; therefore—

Koll. I forbid you to continue.

The Priest. It is written: "Thou shalt obey God rather than man"! My dear parishioners, let us all leave this meeting! Who will follow his priest? (Takes a few steps towards the door, but no one follows him. Laughter. He sighs deeply, and sits down again.)

Koll. If no one else wishes to speak—

VinÄger. Mr. Chairman!

Koll. Mr. VinÄger wishes to speak.

VinÄger. These proceedings remind me of China, and of the Chinese mandarins who will not allow any one of lesser degree to come near them—although at moments I have felt as if I were still in Europe in the presence of a still greater power, greater even than the Grand Turk—I mean this democratic envy which grudges others what it has not got itself. To reconcile both parties I should like to make the following suggestion. Build the carriages, as is often done, in two stories. Then those who wish to ensure their privacy can do so by sitting upstairs; and the others will be satisfied too, because they will all be in the same carriage after all. (Loud laughter.)

Koll. If no one else wishes to speak (looks at GRAN, who shakes his head) I shall proceed to put the question to the vote. The motion submitted by the directors, which is now before the meeting, is as follows—

The Mayor. Excuse me, but what of my motion wit h regard to a saloon for his Majesty?

Koll. I did not understand your worship to mean your suggestion as a formal motion.

The Mayor. I did, though.

Koll. Then I will put it to the vote after the director, motion has been voted upon.

The Mayor. A motion that concerns the King should take precedence of all others.

Koll. Even the King is subject to the rules of logic. The directors' motion is: "That only one class of railway carriage shall be purchased, of a type slightly more comfortable than the ordinary third-class carriage." Will those in favour of the motion kindly go to the left—on this side of the room; those against the motion, to the right. (Nearly all go to the left. Cheers are heard outside, and are gradually taken up by those inside. KOLL hammers with his mallet.) Order, please! (The cheering ceases, but an animated conversation goes on.) The directors' motion is carried!

The Mayor (shouting). I am sure every one did not understand the method of voting!

Koll (hammering with his mallet). Order, order. (Quiet is gradually restored.) What did your worship say?

The Mayor. That some people must have misunderstood the way of voting; because I see my daughter Natalie, who is a shareholder too, on the other side of the room. Of course she has made a mistake.

Natalie. Oh no, father, I haven't. (Loud laughter, and applause.)

The Priest. Ah, my poor deluded parishioners, I shall pray for you!

The Mayor. Order!—The Mayor's motion—

Alstad. I would suggest that the Mayor should withdraw it. We know what its fate would be in such a meeting as this.

Koll. As long as I occupy the chair, I shall not permit any derogatory expressions to be applied to the meeting. Does the Mayor still insist on his motion being put? (Whispers to him: "Say no!")

The Mayor. No.

Koll. Then, as no one else wishes to speak, I declare the meeting at an end. (Every one begins to move about and discuss affairs vigorously.)

Alstad (to his son VILHELM). So you have the face to vote with these—these Americans, against your old father, have you?

Vilhelm. Well, father, I honestly think—

Alstad. Just you wait till I get you home!

Vilhelm. Oh, that's it, is it? Then I shan't go home—so there! I shall stay here and get drunk, I shall.

Alstad. Oh, come, come!

Vilhelm. Yes, I shall! I shall stay here and get drunk!

Alstad. But, Vilhelm, listen to me! (Takes him by the arm. Meantime a STRANGER has taken KOLL and GRAN by the arm, to their manifest surprise, and brought the forward away from the crowd. He stands for a moment, looking them in the face, till suddenly KOLL gives a start and cries out: "The King!")

The King. Hush!

Gran. It really is—!

The King (to GRAN). You are at home here; take up into a room—and give us some champagne. My throat is as dry as a lime-kiln!

Curtain

SCENE II

(SCENE.—A room built in Gothic style, comfortably furnished and decorated with trophies of the chase. GRAN ushers in the KING and KOLL.)

Gran. We can be quite alone here. (ANNA, a deaf and dumb girl of about fifteen, brings in some bottles of champagne, and, during the following dialogue, sets out glasses, refreshments, cigars, and pipes. She is quick and attentive to render the slightest service required of her; when not employed, she sits on a stool in the background. She talks to GRAN on her fingers, and receives orders from him in the same manner.)

The King. Ah, this is like old times! I know the setting: "Gothic room in mediaeval style, decorated with trophies of the chase. Furnished with an eye to bachelor comfort!" You always had bachelor habits, you know, even when you were quite a boy. (To KOLL.) We never called him anything but "the Bachelor" on board ship. He never had a love affair in all the three years our cruise lasted; but the rest of us had them in every port we touched at!

Koll. He is just the same in that respect now.

Gran (offering the KING some champagne). Allow me!

The King. Thanks; I shall be glad of it. (To KOLL.) Your health, my former tutor! (To GRAN.) And yours! (They drink.) Ah, that has done me good!—Well now, let me ask you this: isn't it true that, all through the meeting, you were talking nothing but republicanism, although you didn't actually mention the word?

Koll (laughing). You are not far wrong.

The King. And you, who in the old days were considered to be too advanced in your opinions to be retained as my tutor, are now not considered advanced enough! They nearly—threw you over, didn't they?

Koll. Yes! That shows you, if I may say so, the result of government by a minority.

The King. And the result of mixing with such people as our excellent friend the millionaire here, I suppose?

Gran. It is always a mistake to lay the blame of public opinion on individuals.

The King. I quite agree with you. And now it is time you knew the reason of my coming here—in the strictest incognito, as you see. By the way, I hope no one recognised me?

Gran and Koll. Not a soul!

(FLINK comes in.)

Flink. Ah, here you are! (Comes forward, rubbing his hands delightedly.) Well, what did you think of the meeting, my boys?

The King (aside to GRAN). Who is that?

Gran (to the KING). We will get rid of him. (To FLINK.) Look here, old chap—!

Flink (catching sight of the KING). Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought we were—

Gran (obliged to introduce him). Let me introduce Mr.—? Mr.—? (Looks at the KING inquiringly.)

The King. Speranza.

Flink. An Italian?

The King. In name only.

Gran (completing the introduction). Mr. Flink.

The King. Surely not A. B. Flink?

Gran. Yes.

The King (interested). Our peripatetic philosopher? (Shakes hands with him.) I have read one or two of your books.

Flink (laughing). Really?

The King. Are you meditating another expedition?

Flink. That's it.

The King. And on foot?

Flink. Always on foot.

The King. Upon my word, I don't believe there is a man in the country that can gauge popular opinion as accurately as you! Let us sit down and have a chat. Do you drink champagne?

Flink. Yes—when I can't get anything better!

The King (lifting his glass to FLINK). Your health, (They all drink, and then seat themselves.) What part the country were you in last?

Flink. I have just been shooting with our friend here.

The King. So he is your friend? He is mine, too! My best friend, ever since I was a boy. (He stretches out his hand; GRAN gets up and grasps it in both of his.)

Koll (to FLINK, who is looking astonished). Mr. Speranza was a naval cadet at the same time as Gran.

Flink. Really! Were they on the same ship?

The King. Yes, we were on a cruise round the world together—

Flink. Do you mean the time when the Prince went on account of his lungs?—the present King, I mean?

The King. The Prince that afterwards became King—yes.

Flink. There is quite a royal flavour about our little gathering, then! Here is the King's shipmate, and here is his tutor in jurisprudence—

Koll. You are forgetting yourself! You are the King's tutor's tutor, you know—

The King. Were you Koll's tutor? Really?

Flink (with a laugh). Yes, I had that misfortune!

The King. You hadn't so great a misfortune in your pupil as he had in his!

Koll. The King was a very apt pupil.

Flink (jestingly). He has shown traces of it in his reign, hasn't he!

Koll. Don't speak ill of the King, please.

Flink (ironically). Heaven forbid! (Takes a pinch of snuff.) I know all about his talent—his great talent, his genial talent! (Offers his snuff-box to the KING.)

Gran. But it was public opinion we were talking about, Flink; is it very much like what we heard to-day?

Flink. I wouldn't say that; your opinions are rather advanced in these parts.

The King. Is the tendency republican, rather than monarchical?

Flink. That depends how you look at it. The King has just been paying some visits in the country districts; he is, so to speak, the commercial traveller for his firm—as all kings and crown princes are. Of course he was cheered everywhere. But go and ask the agricultural classes if they set great store by the pomp and circumstance of royalty; they will unanimously answer: "It costs an infernal lot to keep up!" Ha, ha, ha!

Gran. Your farmer is a realist.

Flink. A brutal realist! Ha, ha, ha! Self-government is cheaper. He has it all at his fingers' ends, the scoundrel!

The King. He is not a republican by conviction, then

Flink. Not universally, no. At least, not yet. But things are moving that way; and our reactionary government is helping the movement—that, and the letter they get from America.

The King. The letters they get from America?

Koll. Letters from their relations in America.

Gran. There is scarcely a family in the country now that has not relations in America.

The King. And they write home about self-government?—about republican principles?

Flink. And republican institutions. That is the situation!

The King. Have you read any of these letters?

Flink. Lots!

The King. This is excellent champagne! (Drinks.)

Gran. Let me fill your glasses. (They all drink.)

Flink. It doesn't really agree with me.

The King. But suppose the King were to establish democratic government? Suppose he were to live like an ordinary citizen in every way?

Flink. In every way? What do you mean by that?

The King. Kept house like an ordinary citizen—were married like an ordinary citizen—were to be found in his office at regular hours like any other official?

Gran. And had no court, I suppose?

The King. No. (KOLL and GRAN exchange glances.)

Flink (shrugging his shoulders). It would be the last sensation left for him to try.

The King (who did not observe his shrug, eagerly). That is so, isn't it? You agree with me as to that? I am delighted to have had this talk with you, Mr. Flink.

Flink. The same to you, Mr.—Mr.—. (In an undertone, to KOLL.) Is he a republican?

The King (who has overheard him). Am I a republican? I have had too much experience not to be! Ha, ha! (Takes up his glass.) Devilish good champagne, this!

Flink (drinking). But, you know, Mr.—Mr. Republican—ha, ha!—(smiles and whispers)—the King simply would not be allowed to do what you suggest. Ha, ha!

The King. What do you mean?

Gran (aside to KOLL, who gets up). Are you sure this is right?

Koll. It will do him good, anyway, to hear all sides.

Flink (who has got up and gone to the table on the other side to get a pipe). He simply would not be allowed to, poor chap! What is monarchy, I ask you? Nothing more or less than an insurance business in which a whole crew of priests, officials, noblemen, landed proprietors, merchants and military men hold shares? And, goodness knows, they are not going to give their director leave to commit any such folly! Ha, ha, ha!

The King (getting up). Ha, ha, ha!

Flink (vociferously, to him). Don't you think that is true?

The King. Good Lord!—perfectly true! Ha, ha ha!

Flink (who has cleaned and filled a pipe, but forgotten to light it, going up to the KING). And what do they insure themselves again, these beauties? (More seriously.) Against the great mass of the people—against his people! (The KING looks at him and makes a movement of dislike.)

Gran. Look here, Flink; suppose we go out into the garden for a little? These spring evenings are so lovely.

Flink. Compared to a political talk, the loveliest spring evenings have no attraction for me—no more than warm water, offered me in place of fine cooling wine, would have. No, let us stay where we are. What is the matter with this pipe? (ANNA signs that she will put it right for him, but he does not understand.)

Gran. Give her your pipe; she will put it right.

Koll. What I have always said is that, if the King had an opportunity of understanding the situation, he would interfere.

Flink. The King? He doesn't care a brass farthing about the whole matter! He has something else to do! Ha, ha!

The King. Ha, ha, ha!

Koll. The King is an unusually gifted man; he would not remain indifferent in the long run.

Flink. He has so many unusual gifts that have gone to the devil—!

The King. Tralalla! Tralalalalala! Tralala! It feels quite odd to be with you fellows again! (Drinks.)

Flink (in an undertone, to GRAN). Is he drunk?

The King (sitting down). Give me a cigar—! And let us discuss the matter a little more seriously. (KOLL and GRAN sit down.)

Gran. As a matter of fact, it is not a thing that can be discussed. It must be tried. If, one day, the King were to say: "I mean to live a natural life among my people, and to withdraw my name from the old-established royal firm, which has lost all its reputation for honesty"—that day everything else would follow of itself.

Flink. Yes, that day, I dare say!

Gran. Remember you are the guest of a man who is a friend of the King's!

The King. Don't play the domestic despot—you who are a republican! Let us have free discussion!

Flink. I certainly don't intend to insult the King. He has never done me any harm. But surely you will allow me to doubt whether he is really the shining light you make him out to be?

The King. That is true enough!

Flink (eagerly). You agree with me as to that, then?

The King. Absolutely! But—leaving him out of the question—suppose we had a king who made himself independent of others, and, as a necessary consequence, rose superior to questions of party—?

Flink (interrupting him). It is a vain supposition, my dear fellow! A king bound to no party? (Puffs at his pipe.) It wouldn't work! (Puffs again.) It wouldn't work!—It wouldn't work!—Falsehood is the foundation of constitutional monarchy. A king superior to questions of party? Rubbish!

Gran. It would be expecting something superhuman of him, too.

Flink. Of course it would!

The King. But the president of a republic is even less independent of party, isn't he?

Flink (turning to hint). He doesn't make any pretence that he isn't. Haha! That's the difference! (Comes forward, repeating to himself.) It is the falsehood that makes the difference.

Koll. Oh, there are falsehoods enough in republics too, unfortunately!

Flink. I know; but they are not old-established institutions! Ha, ha!

The King. That is an idea you have got from Professor Ernst's writings.

Flink (eagerly). Have you read them?

The King. I have scarcely read anything else for the last few months. (KOLL and GRAN exchange glances.)

Flink. Indeed?—Then there is no need for me to say anything more.

Koll. But, after all this talk, we have got no further. Our friend (pointing to the KING) wants to know, I think, whether a real, serious attempt at what one might call "democratic monarchy" could not reckon on being understood and supported—

The King (breaking in, eagerly). Yes, that's just it!

Koll.—understood and supported by the most enlightened section of the people, who are weary of falsehood and long for a generous but secure measure of self-government.

The King. That's just it!

Flink (who was just going to sit down, jumps up again, lays down his pipe and stands with arms akimbo, as he says:) But what sort of ridiculous ideas are these? Aren't you republicans, then?

Koll. I am not.

Gran. I am; but that does not prevent my being of opinion that the change of government should be made gradually and gently—

Flink. That would be treason!

Gran. Treason!

Flink. Treason against the truth—against our convictions!

Koll. Don't let us use big words! Monarchy is strongly rooted in the existing order of things.

Flink (with a laugh). In the insurance company!

Koll. Well, call it so if you like. It exists; that is the point. And, since it exists, we must make it as honest and as serviceable as we can.

The King. Your health, Koll! (Drinks to him.)

Flink (moving away from them). No true republican would agree with you.

Gran. You are wrong there. (FLINK gives a start of surprise.)

The King (who has seen FLINK's surprise, gets up). Listen to me! Suppose we had a king who said: "Either you help me to establish a democratic monarchy—purged of all traces of absolutism, purged of falsehood—or else I abdicate—"

Flink. Bah!

The King. I only say, "suppose"! You know quite well that the cousin of the present king, the heir apparent, is a bigoted—

Koll (who has been exchanging glances with GRAN while the KING was speaking, breaks in hurriedly). Don't go on!

The King (with a laugh). I won't!—And his mother, who rules him—

Flink.—is even worse!

The King. What would be your choice, then? Would you help the king to establish a democratic monarchy or—?

Flink (impetuously). I would ten thousand times rather have the bigoted prince, with all his own and his mother's follies!—the madder the better!

Gran. No, no, no, no!

The King (to GRAN and KOLL). We see his true colours now! (Moves away from them.)

Koll (to FLINK). That is the way you republicans always ride your principles to death.

Gran. Patriotism ought to come before—

Flink.—before truth? No; a short sharp pang of agony is better than endless doubt and falsehood, my friend! That is true patriotism.

Koll. Oh, these theories!—these phrases!

Gran. I am a republican as well as you, and, I think, as sincere a one. But I should have no hesitation—

Flink.—in playing the traitor?

Gran. Why do you use such words as that?

Flink. Words! Do you think it is nothing but words? No, my friend, if you did what—what I did not allow you to say—I should come here one day to call you to account. And if you refused to fight me, I should shoot you like a dog!

Gran (gently). You would not do that.

Flink (heatedly). Not do it?—Have I given you the deepest affection of which my heart is capable, only for you to turn traitor to it? Am I to see the man whose character is the crowning achievement of my life, betraying our cause—and, by reason of his great personal prestige, dragging thousands down with him? On the head of all the disillusionments I have suffered, am I to have this one in the evening of my life—? (Stops, overcome by his emotion. A pause.) You shouldn't jest about such things you know. (Walks away. ANNA has placed herself in front of GRAN, as if to protect him.)

Koll. I think we had better change the subject, and go out for a little!

The King (aside, to him). Yes, get him away!

Flink (in the background, as if he were addressing an invisible audience). We must have discipline in the ranks!

Koll. Gran, ask your maid to hurry up with the supper.

Gran. Yes, I will.

Koll (to the KING). What do you say to a turn in the garden, meanwhile?

The King. By all means!

Flink (coming forward to GRAN). This friendship of yours with the King—to which I had attached no particular importance—I hope it has not altogether—(Stops short.)

Gran.—not altogether corrupted me, you mean?

Flink. Exactly.

The King (laughing). Politically?

Flink. Politics are not unconnected with morals, sir!

The King. But why get so heated, sir? We know that the present King is a—

Koll (breaking in hurriedly). Don't say any more!

The King (with a laugh). You said yourself that he doesn't care a brass farthing about the whole matter—he has something else to do! And so the whole thing ends in smoke!

Flink (more amiably). I dare say you are right.

The King. Of course I am. You are all agreed that, under his rule, republican sentiments are growing in real earnest.

Flink. You are right! He couldn't help things on better if he were a republican himself, I assure you!

The King. Perhaps he is a republican?

Flink (animatedly). Perhaps he is! Splendid! And works against his own interests—!

The King. A sort of commercial traveller working for the downfall of his own firm!

Flink (excitedly). For the downfall of his own firm! Splendid! Props up his reactionary rule by means of royal pronouncements, confidential communications, public speeches—

The King.—in a suicidal manner!

Flink. Splendidly suicidal! Ah, that makes you laugh, does it?

Koll. Hush, some one might hear us!

Flink. I don't care who hears us! (The KING bursts out laughing.) But you ought, as one of the King's officials, to stop his laughing! (Points to the KING.) It's shocking!—It's high treason!

Koll. Listen to me!

Flink. You ought to arrest him for laughing like that! Suppose the King—

Gran. That is the King! (The KING goes on laughing. FLINK looks from him to the others, and from the others to him.)

The King. This is too much for me! (Sits down. FLINK rushes out.)

Koll. That was very bad of you.

The King. I know it was; but forgive me! I couldn't help it! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Koll. For all his queer ways, he is too good a fellow to be made a fool of.

The King. Yes, scold me; I deserve it. But, all the same—ha, ha, ha, ha!

Gran. Hush!—he is coming back. (The KING gets up as FLINK comes in again.)

Flink. Your Majesty may be assured that I would never have expressed myself as I did in your Majesty's presence if I had been fairly treated and told whom I was addressing.

The King. I know. The fault is mine alone.

Flink. The fault is that of others—my so-called friends.

The King (earnestly). By no means! It is mine—mine alone. I have had a scolding for it!—And in your presence I ask my friends' pardon; I have put them in a false position. And, in the next place, I ask for your forgiveness. My sense of humour got the better of me. (Laughs again.)

Flink. Yes, it was extremely amusing.

The King. It really was! And, after all, what have you to complain of? You had an opportunity of speaking your mind, any way!

Flink. I certainly did!

The King. Very well, then!—And when you wanted to show any respect, I prevented you. So I think we are quits.

Flink. No, we are not.

The King (impatiently). Indeed?—What do you want from me, then?

Flink (proudly). Nothing!

The King. I beg your pardon! I did not mean to offend you.

Flink. You have done so to a degree that you are naturally incapable of appreciating. (Goes out.)

The King. This is a nice business! (Laughs. Then notices GRAN, who is standing at his desk with his back to the KING, and goes up to him.) You are angry with me.

Gran (looking up slowly). Yes.

The King. Why didn't you stop me?

Gran. It all happened too quickly. But to think that you could have the heart to do it—in my own house—to a man who was my father's oldest friend, and is mine—!

The King. Harald! (Puts his arm round his shoulders.) Have I ever asked you for anything that you have not given me?

Gran. No.

The King. Then I ask you now to admit that you know that, if I had thought this would hurt you, I would never have done it—not for worlds! Do you still believe as well of me as that?

Gran. Yes.

The King. Thank you. Then I will admit to you, in return, that for months past I have lived in a state of horrible tension of mind; and that is why I jump too easily from one extreme to the other. So, my friends, you must forgive me! Or finish my scolding some other time! Because now I must talk to you of the matter which induced me to come here. You are the only ones I can turn to; so be good to me!—Shall we sit down again?

Koll. As you please.

The King (moving towards the table). I know you both want to ask me the same question: why I have never come before now. My answer is: because I have only now arrived at a clear conception of my own position. Some months ago some hard words that were used to me lit a fire in my heart and burnt out a heap of rubbish that had collected there. (ANNA fills their glasses.) Won't you send that girl away?

Gran. She is deaf and dumb.

The King. Poor girl! (Sits down.) When I came back from my cruise round the world, the old king was dead. My father had come to the throne, and I was crown prince, and I went with my father to the cathedral to attend a thanksgiving service for my safe return.

Gran. I was there.

The King. The whole thing was a novelty to me, and a solemn one. I was overcome with emotion. Seeing that, my father whispered to me: "Come farther forward, my boy! The people must see their future king praying." That finished it! I was not born to be a king; my soul was still too unsullied, and I spurned such falsehood with the deepest loathing. Just think of it!—to come back from three years at sea, and begin my life in that way—as if perpetually in front of a mirror! I won't dwell on it. But when my father died and I became king, I had become so accustomed to the atmosphere of falsehood I lived in that I no longer recognised truth when I saw it. The constitution prescribed my religion for me—and naturally I had none. And it was the same with everything—one thing after another! What else could you expect? The only tutor I valued—you, Koll—had been dismissed; they considered you to be too freethinking.

Koll (smilingly). Oh, yes!

The King. The only real friend that dated from my happier days—you, Harald, had been sent to the right about; you were a republican. It was while I was in despair over that loss that I fell really in love for the first time—with your sister, Harald. Banishment, again. What then? Why, then the craving that every healthy youth feels—the desire for love—was turned into dissolute channels. (Drinks.)

Gran. I understand, well enough.

The King. Well, put all those things together. That was what my life was—until just lately. Because lately something happened, my dear friends. And now you must help me! Because, to make a long story short, either I mean to be the chief official in my country in a peaceful, citizenlike, genuine way, or—as God is above me—I will no longer be king! (Gets up, and the others do so.)

Koll. Ah, we have got it at last!

The King. Do you think I don't know that our republican friend there spoke what is every thoughtful man's verdict upon me? (They are silent.) But how could I possibly undertake my task, as long as I believed everything to be make-believe and falsehood, without exception? Now I know the root of the falsehood! It is in our institutions; he was quite right. And one kind of falsehood begets another. You cannot imagine how ludicrous it appeared to me—who up till then had led such a sinful, miserable existence—when I saw honourable men pretending that I was a being of some superior mould! I! (Walks up and down, then stops.) It is the state—our institutions—that demand this falsehood both on their part and on mine. And that for the security and happiness of the country! (Moves about restlessly.) From the time I became crown prince they kept from me everything that might have instilled truth into me—friendship, love, religion, a vocation—for my vocation is quite another one; and it was all done in the name of my country! And now that I am king, they take away all responsibility from me as well—all responsibility for my own acts—the system demands it! Instead of an individual, what sort of a contemptible creature do they make of me! The kingly power, too?—that is in the hands of the people's representatives and the government. I don't complain of that; but what I do complain of is that they should pretend that I have it, and that everything should be done in my name; that I should be the recipient of petitions, cheers, acclamations, obeisances—as if the whole power and responsibility were centred in my person! In me—from whom, in the interests of all, they have taken away everything! Is that not a pitiful and ludicrous falsehood? And, to make it credible, they endow me into the bargain with a halo of sanctity! "The King is sacred;" "Our Most Gracious Sovereign," "Your Majesty!" It becomes almost blasphemous!