(SCENE.—The same room. The table, which has been drawn to one side, is covered with bottles of champagne aged dishes of fruit. MRS. TJAELDE and SIGNE, with a man-servant and a maid, are busy preparing it. Through the door on the right a lively conversation can be heard, and occasional bursts of laughter.)

Mrs. Tjaelde (in a tired voice). Now I think it is all ready.

Signe. They are talking a long time over their dinner.

Mrs. Tjaelde (looking at her watch). Yes, they will only have half an hour for their dessert, because Mr. Lind has to leave at five o'clock.

Signe. Ah, they have finished at last! Listen, they are getting up from the table. (Amidst the loud noise of conversation the noise of chairs being pushed back is audible.) Here they come!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Yes; let us retreat. (The maid goes out by the farther door; SIGNE helps MRS. TJAELDE out after her. The man-servant begins opening the champagne. The guests come in from the dining-room, headed by LIND escorted by TJAELDE, whom he is assuring that the dinner was excellent, to which TJAELDE replies that it is impossible to do much in a small country town. Both look at their watches, and observe that there is only half an hour left. TJAELDE vainly endeavours to persuade LIND to stay longer. Close behind them come HOLM and RING, engaged in an animated dispute about timber prices, the former maintaining that they will fall still lower, the latter that they will rise speedily owing to the fall in the prices of coal and iron, a point of view which the former vigorously controverts. Immediately behind them comes the VICAR, escorted by HAMAR, who is a little tipsy. The VICAR is assuring him that he has no objection to parishioners repudiating the obligation to attend the services of their own priest, so long as they are compelled to pay him for those services whether they avail themselves of them or not; because order, which is an essential characteristic of the Heavenly Kingdom, must be maintained. HAMAR tries to get in a word or two about the bay horse, but without success. At the same time KNUTZON and FALBE are deep in a discussion about a dancer whom FALBE has seen at Hamburg. He is maintaining that she can leap six feet into the air, which KNUTZON ventures to doubt, but FALBE says there is no doubt about it, and he knows because he has once sat at the same dinner-table with her. FINNE, KNUDSEN, and JAKOBSEN follow them. JAKOBSEN is heard challenging any one to contradict him, while the others eagerly protest that he has entirely misunderstood their meaning. He affirms stoutly that he doesn't care a damn what they meant, but that his employer is the greatest business man and the finest fellow in the world, or at all events in Norway. PRAM comes in by himself, wrapt in tipsy contemplation. They all talk at the same time.)

Tjaelde (rapping on a glass). Gentlemen! (There is a sudden silence, except for the sound of the voices of FALBE and JAKOBSEN, who are hushed down by the others.) Gentlemen! I am sorry dinner has occupied such a long time.

All (unanimously). No, no!

Tjaelde. Our distinguished guest has, unfortunately, to leave us in half an hour, so I should like to take the opportunity of saying a few words. Gentlemen, we have a prince among us to-day. I say a prince, because if it is true that it is the financiers that rule the world—and it is true, gentlemen—

Pram (who is standing well forward, supporting himself by the edge of the table, says solemnly:) Yes.

Tjaelde.—then our friend here is a prince! There is not a single important undertaking that he has not initiated, or at any rate backed with his name.

Pram (lifting his glass). Mr. Lind, may I have the honour—?

Voices. Sh! Sh!

Tjaelde. Yes, gentlemen, his name backs every enterprise. It would be impossible to carry one through that had not his backing.

Pram (solemnly). His backing.

Tjaelde. Am I not right, then, in describing him as a prince?

Falbe (in a feeble voice). Yes.

Tjaelde. Gentlemen, to-day his name is once more exercising its powerful, I might say its creative, influence upon circumstances. I may say that at this moment the country holds no truer benefactor than he.

Pram. Great man.

Tjaelde. Let us drink his health! May prosperity attend him and his, and may his name be deathless in Norway! Mr. Lind!

All. Mr. Lind! Mr. Lind! (They all drink his health effusively.)

Tjaelde (to HAMAR, whom he pulls forward somewhat roughly, as the others begin to help themselves to the dessert.) What has become of the salute?

Hamar (in consternation).Good Lord, yes! (Rushes to the window, but comes back.) I have no handkerchief. I must have laid it down in the dining-room.

Tjaelde. Here is mine!(Feels in his pocket for it.) One cannot rely on you for the least thing. The salute will be too late now. It is disgraceful! (HAMAR goes to the window and waves the handkerchief madly. At last the report of a cannon is heard. The guests are standing in a group, holding their dessert plates.)

Holm. A little bit late!

Knutzon. Rather behind the moment—

Ring. A very important moment, however!

Holm. A very unexpected one, anyway!

Knutzon (jestingly). Allow me, amidst the cannon's roar, to introduce to you a man who has been led by the nose!

Ring. Oh, Tjaelde knows what he is about!

Tjaelde. Mr. Lind is kind enough to wish to propose a toast. (They all compose themselves into respectful silence.)

Lind. Our worthy host has proposed my health in most flattering terms. I would merely add this, that wealth is entrusted to those who have it precisely in order that they may support industry, genius, and great undertakings.

Pram (who has never changed his position). Nobly said.

Lind. I am only an administrator of a trust, and too often a weak and short-sighted one.

Pram. Beautiful.

Lind. But I shall not be mistaken if I say that Mr. Tjaelde's many-sided activities, which we must all admire, rest upon a sound foundation; and of that fact no one, at the present moment, is better able to judge than I. (The guests look at one another in surprise.) Therefore I have no hesitation in saying that his activities are an honour to this town, to this district, to our whole country, and that therefore his genius and his energy deserve support. I propose the toast of "prosperity to the firm of Tjaelde!"

All. Prosperity to the firm of Tjaelde!

(HAMAR signals again with the handkerchief, and a cannon shot is heard.)

Tjaelde. I thank you heartily, Mr. Lind! I am profoundly touched.

Lind. I said no more than I am convinced of, Mr. Tjaelde!!

Tjaelde. Thank you! (To HAMAR.) What do you mean by signalling for a salute for the host? Blockhead!

Hamar. You said there was to be a salute when a toast was proposed, didn't you?

Tjaelde. Oh, you are a—!

Hamar (to himself). Well, if ever again I—!

Holm. Then it is an accomplished fact, I suppose?

Knutzon. Fait accompli! That toast represents twenty thousand pounds, at least.

Ring. Yes, Tjaelde knows what he is about! I have always said that! (FALBE is seen drinking ceremoniously with LIND. JAKOBSEN comes forward, talking to KNUDSEN.)

Jakobsen (in a low voice). There isn't a word of truth in what you say!

Knudsen. But, my dear Jakobsen, you misunderstand me!

Jakobsen (louder). Hang it, I know my people!

Knudsen. Don't talk so loud!

Jakobsen (still louder). What I say any one may hear!

Tjaelde. (at the same moment). The Vicar wishes to say a few words.

Knudsen (to JAKOBSEN). Hush! The Vicar wishes to say a few words.

Jakobsen. Have I got to hush because that damned—

Tjaelde (in a voice of authority). The Vicar wishes to speak.

Jakobsen. I beg your pardon!

The Vicar (in a feeble voice). As the spiritual adviser of this household, I have the pleasing duty of invoking a blessing on the gifts that have been so richly showered upon our host and his friends. May they be to their souls' present good and eternal welfare!

Pram. Amen.

The Vicar. I am going to ask you to drink the health of our host's dear children—those lovely girls whose welfare has been the object of my prayers ever since they were confirmed—ever since that memorable day when household and religious duties began to walk side by side.

Pram. Ah, yes!

The Vicar. May they always in the future, as they have in the past, grow in the holy fear of God and in meekness and gratitude towards their parents!

All. Miss Valborg, Miss Signe!

Hamar (in a panic). Am I to signal?

Tjaelde. Oh, go to—!

Hamar. Well, if ever again—!

Tjaelde. Thank you very much, Mr. Vicar. Like you, I hope that the intimate relations between parent and child that exist here—

The Vicar. It has always been a pleasure to me to come into your most hospitable house.

Tjaelde. May I have the honour of drinking a glass of wine with you? (They drink to each other.)

The Vicar. Excellent champagne, my dear sir!

Lind (to HOLM). It pains me to hear what you say. Is it possible that this town, which owes so much to Mr. Tjaelde, repays him with such ingratitude?

Holm (in a low voice). One never can quite confidently rely on him.

Lind. Really? I have heard others sing his praises so loudly, you know.

Holm (as before). You misunderstand me. I mean his position—

Lind. His position? That must be merely envy! People are often so unjust towards those whose enterprise has lifted them above the heads of the crowd.

Holm. At any rate I assure you it was not from—

Lind (coldly). I don't doubt it. (Walks away from him.)

Jakobsen (with whom TJAELDE has just drunk). Gentlemen!

Knutzon (to HOLM, in passing). Is that boor really going to be allowed to make a speech! (Going up to LIND.) May I have the honour of drinking a glass of wine with you, Mr. Lind? (Several of the guests begin to talk, ostentatiously indifferent to JAKOBSEN who is trying to begin his speech.)

Jakobsen (in a formidable voice). Gentlemen! (Silence ensues, and he continues in his usual voice.) Permit a common man to say a word, too, on this festive occasion. I was a poor little boy when I entered Mr. Tjaelde's employment; but he pulled me out of the gutter. (Laughter.) I am-what I am, gentlemen! And therefore if any here is qualified to talk about Mr. Tjaelde, it is I; because I know him. I know he is a fine fellow.

Lind (to TJAELDE). Children and drunken men—

Tjaelde (laughing).—speak the truth!

Jakobsen. There are lots of people that will tell you one thing or another about him—and, of course, he may have his failings like all of us. But as I find myself in such fine company as this I am going to say that—that—devil take me if Mr. Tjaelde isn't too good for the lot of you! (Laughter.)

Tjaelde. That's enough, Jakobsen!

Jakobsen. No, it's not enough! Because there is one toast we have all forgotten, although we have all had such a splendid dinner. (Laughter. FALBE claps his hands and cries: "Bravo!") Yes, and it is nothing to laugh at; because it is the toast of Mrs. Tjaelde's health that we have not drunk!

Lind. Bravo!

Jakobsen. There's a wife and mother for you! I can tell you—and it's true—she goes about the house attending to her duties and preparing for our entertainment when all the time she is ill, and she takes the whole thing on her shoulders and says nothing. God bless her, I say!—and that is all I have to say.

Several of the Guests (raising their glasses). Mrs. Tjaelde! Mrs. Tjaelde!

Pram (grasping JAKOBSEN by the hand). That was fine of you, Jakobsen! (LIND joins them; PRAM steps aside respectfully.)

Lind. Will you drink a glass of wine with me, Jakobsen?

Jakobsen. Thank you, very much. I am only a common man—

Lind. But a good-hearted one! Your health! (They drink to each other. A boat is seen putting in to shore below the verandah. Its crew of six men stand up and toss their oars in naval fashion. SANNAES is standing at the helm.)

Holm (in a whisper, to KNUTZON). Tjaelde knew what he was doing when he invited Jakobsen!

Knutzon (whispering). Just look at the boat!

Ring. Tjaelde is a very clever fellow—a very clever fellow! (VALBORG, SIGNE and MRS. TJAELDE are seen coming up the verandah steps.)

Tjaelde. Gentlemen, the moment of departure is at hand; I see the ladies coming to take leave of our distinguished guest. Let us take this last opportunity of gathering around him—round our prince—and thanking him for coming! Let us cheer him with three times three! (Cheers.)

Lind. Thank you, gentlemen! There is so little time left that I must confine myself to merely bidding you all good-bye. (To MRS. TJAELDE.) Good-bye, my dear madam! You should have heard how your health was proposed and drunk just now. My warmest thanks for your hospitality, and forgive me for the trouble I have caused you. (To SIGNE.) Good-bye, Miss Signe. I am sorry time has not permitted me to have the honour of becoming better acquainted with you; you seem so full of spirit! But if, as you said, you are soon coming to Christiania—

Signe. I shall then do myself the honour of calling upon your wife.

Lind. Thank you, thank you—you will be most welcome. (To VALBORG.) Are you not feeling well, Miss Valborg?

Valborg. Yes.

Lind. You look so serious. (As VALBORG does not reply, he continues somewhat coldly:) Good-bye, Miss Valborg. (To HAMAR.) Good-bye, Mr.—Mr.—

Tjaelde. Mr. Hamar.

Lind. Ah, the young man that talked to me about a horse—your future son-in-law! Pray forgive me for not—

Hamar. Don't mention it!

Lind. Good-bye!

Hamar. A pleasant journey, sir!

Lind (coldly, to HOLM). Good-bye, Mr. Holm.

Holm (imperturbably polite). I wish you a very pleasant journey, Mr. Lind.

Lind (to PRAM). Good-bye, Mr. Pram.

Pram (holds his hand, and seems as if he wanted to say something but could not. At last he finds his voice). I want to thank you for—for—I want to thank you for—for—

Lind. You are an excellent fellow!

Pram (in a relieved voice). I am so glad to hear it! Thank you.

Lind (to KNUTZON). Good-bye, Mr.—

Knutzon (hastily). Knutzon.

Pram. With a "z."

Lind (to KNUDSEN). Good-bye, Mr.—

Knudsen. Knudsen, again.

Pram. With an "s."

Lind (to FALBE). Mr—?

Falbe. Falbe.

Lind. Good-bye, Mr. Falbe! (To RING.) I am delighted to see you looking so well, Mr. Ring.

Ring (with a low bow). The same to you, sir!

Lind. Good-bye, Mr. Vicar!

The Vicar (holding his hand, impressively). Let me wish you good luck and happiness, Mr. Lind—

Lind. Thank you. (Tries to get away.)

The Vicar.—in your journey over the perilous seas to foreign lands!

Lind. Thank you. (Tries to get away.)

The Vicar. Let me wish you a safe return, Mr. Lind—

Lind. Thank you very much. (Tries to get away.)

The Vicar.—to our dear fatherland; a land, Mr. Lind, which possesses in you—

Lind. You must excuse me, Mr. Vicar, but time presses.

The Vicar. Let me thank you for the pleasure of our meeting to-day, Mr. Lind, for—

Lind. Indeed, there is no occasion! Good-bye! (To JAKOBSEN.) Good-bye, Jakobsen, good-bye!

Jakobsen. Good-bye, Mr. Lind! I am only a common man, I know; but that is no reason why I shouldn't wish you a pleasant journey too, is it?

Lind. Certainly not, Jakobsen.—Good-bye, Mr. Finne! By the way—just a word! (In an undertone.) You said that Mr. Berent—. (Takes him aside.)

Tjaelde (to HAMAR). Now, remember the salute this time!—No, no, no! Don't be in such a hurry! Wait till the boat puts off! You want to make a mess of it again!

Hamar. Well, if ever again I—!

Tjaelde (to LIND, who holds out his hand to him). Goodbye, Mr. Lind! (In a low voice.) No one has so much reason to thank you for your visit as I. You are the only one that can understand—.

Lind (a shade coldly). Don't mention it, Mr. Tjaelde! Good luck to your business! (In warmer tones.) Good-bye everybody—and thank you all for your kindness! (The footman, who has for some time been holding out his hat to him, gives it him, and his coat to SANNAES. LIND steps on board the boat.)

All. Good-bye, Mr. Lind, good-bye!

Tjaelde. One cheer more! (Cheers and a cannon salute are heard together. The boat glides away. They all wave their handkerchiefs. TJAELDE hurries into the room.) I have no handkerchief; that blockhead has—. (Looks at VALBORG.) Why are you not waving?

Valborg. Because I don't wish to. (TJAELDE looks at her, but says nothing. He goes into the other room and comes back with a table-napkin in each hand, and hurries on to the verandah.)

Tjaelde (waving and shouting). Good-bye! Good-bye!

Signe. Let us go out to the point and see the last of them!

All. Yes, yes! (All but TJAELDE and VALBORG hurry off to the right.)

Tjaelde (coming into the room). I saw Berent coming! (VALBORG goes out by the door on the right. TJAELDE comes forward, throws the napkins on to a table and himself into a chair.) Oh—oh! But this must be the last time.—I shan't need this sort of thing any more! Never again! (Gets up wearily.) Ah, I had forgotten. Berent!

[The Curtain falls.]

[The interval between this scene and the next should be as short as possible.]

(SCENE.-TJAELDE'S private office. On the left, a desk strewn with ledgers and papers. On the right, a stove. An easy chair by the stove. A table in the foreground to the right; on it an inkstand and pens. Two armchairs; one at the table facing the audience, the other at the side of the table. Windows on either side of the desk; a door beyond the stove. A door in the background, leading to other offices. A bell-pull hangs down the wall. A chair on either side of the door. Quite at the back, on the left, a staircase leading direct to TJAELDE'S bedroom. BERENT and TJAELDE come in from the back.)

Tjaelde. You must excuse my receiving you here. But the other rooms are all upside down; we have had some people to dinner.

Berent. I heard you had guests.

Tjaelde. Yes, Mr. Lind from Christiana.

Berent. Quite so.

Tjaelde. Won't you sit down? (BERENT lays down his hat and coat on a chair by the door. He comes slowly forward, sits down at the side of the table, and takes some papers from his breast-pocket. TJAELDE sits down at the other chair by the table and watches him indifferently.)

Berent. What we now want is some fixed standard by which to make our valuations, especially of real estate. Have you any objection to our making your business a basis for arriving at that?

Tjaelde. None at all.

Berent. Then may I make my comments on your own figures, and ask you a few questions about them?

Tjaelde. By all means.

Berent. Well, to begin with, let us take your properties immediately round here; they will give us the best idea of local values. For instance, take the MjÖlstad forest; you have put that down, I see, at £16,500.

Tjaelde (indifferently). Have I?

Berent. You bought it for £10,000.

Tjaelde. Yes, four years ago. Timber prices ruled low then.

Berent. And since then you have cut down more than £20,000 worth of timber there.

Tjaelde. Who told you so?

Berent. Mr. Holst.

Tjaelde. Holst knows nothing about it.

Berent. We must try to be very accurate, you know.

Tjaelde. Well, of course, the whole valuation is not my concern; but those whom it does concern will protest.

Berent (taking no notice of his objection). So I think we will reduce the £16,500 to £10,000.

Tjaelde. To £10,000! (Laughs.) As you please.

Berent. Calculating by the same standard, we can scarcely put down the Stav forest at more than £4000.

Tjaelde. Allow me to say that, if that is the way you are going to make your valuation, everybody in the place will have to go bankrupt!

Berent (with a smile). We will risk that. You have put down your wharf and its contents at £12,000.

Tjaelde. Including two ships in course of construction—

Berent.—for which it would be difficult to find a purchaser, as they are so far from completion.

Tjaelde. Indeed?

Berent. So I think we cannot put down the wharf and its contents at a higher figure than £8,000—and I believe even that will turn out to be too high.

Tjaelde. If you can find me another wharf as well stocked, and with the advantages that this one has, I will buy it whenever you like for £8000; I am certain I should be more than £4000 to the good over the bargain.

Berent. May I go on?

Tjaelde. If you like! I even feel a certain curiosity to view my possessions under such an entirely new light.

Berent. As a matter of fact the items that are too highly valued are just those that comprise this property that you live on—its land, its gardens, its dwelling houses, warehouses, and quays-not to mention the brewery and the factory, which I shall come to later. Even regarded as business premises they seem to me to be over-valued.

Tjaelde. Well?

Berent, Moreover, the luxurious appointments of this house of yours, which would very probably be superfluous for any one else, cannot possibly be counted upon to realise their full value in a sale. Suppose—as is indeed most likely—that it were a countryman that bought the place?

Tjaelde. You are reckoning me as turned out of it already, then!

Berent. I am obliged to base all my calculations on what the property would fetch if sold now.

Tjaelde (getting up). What may you happen to value it at then?

Berent. At less than half your valuation; that is to say at—

Tjaelde. You must really forgive me if I use an expression which has been on the tip of my tongue for some time: this is scandalous! You force yourself into a man's house, and then, under pretext of asking for his opinion, you practically—on paper—rob him of his possessions!

Berent. I don't understand you. I am trying to arrive at a basis for values hereabouts; and you said yourself, did you not, that it is a matter that does not concern you alone?

Tjaelde. Certainly; but even in jest—if I may be allowed the expression—one does not take the statement that an honourable man has voluntarily offered and treat it as a mendacious document.

Berent. There are many different points of view from which valuations can be made, obviously. I see nothing more in it than that.

Tjaelde. But don't you understand that this is like cutting into my living flesh? Bit by bit, my property has been brought together or created by my own work, and preserved by the most strenuous exertions on my part under terribly trying conditions—it is bound up with my family, with all that is dear to me—it has become a part of my very life!

Berent (with a bow). I understand that perfectly. You have put down the Brewery at—

Tjaelde. No; I refuse to allow you to go on in this way. You must find some one else's property as a basis for your calculations—you must consult some one else, whose idea of business corresponds somewhat closer to your own ridiculous one.

Berent (leaning back in his chair). That is a pity. The banks were anxious to be acquainted with your answers to my observations.

Tjaelde. Have you sent my statement to the banks?

Berent. With my remarks and comments on it, and Mr. Holst's.

Tjaelde. This has been a trap, then? I believed I had to deal with a gentleman!

Berent. The banks or I, what is the difference? It comes to the same thing, as I represent them unreservedly.

Tjaelde. Such impudent audacity is unpardonable!

Berent. I would suggest that we avoid hard words—at all events, for the moment—and rather consider the effect that will be produced by the balance-sheet sent in.

Tjaelde. That some of us will see!

Berent. The banking house of Lind & Co., for instance?

Tjaelde. Do you mean to say that my balance-sheet, ornamented with marginal notes by you and Holst, is to be submitted to Mr. Lind's firm too?

Berent. When the cannon-salutes and noise of your festivities enlightened me as to the situation, I took the liberty of making some inquiries of the banks.

Tjaelde. So you have been spying here, too? You have been trying to undermine my business connections?

Berent. Is your position such, then, that you are afraid?

Tjaelde. The question is not my position, but your behaviour!

Berent. I think we had better keep to the point. You have put down the Brewery at—

Tjaelde. No; your conduct is so absolutely underhanded that, as an honest man, I must refuse all further dealing with you. I am, as I said before, accustomed to have to deal with gentlemen.

Berent. I think you misunderstand the situation. Your indebtedness to the banks is so considerable that a settlement of it may reasonably be required of you. But to effect that you must work with us in the matter.

Tjaelde (after a moment's thought). Very well! But, no more details—let me know your conclusions, briefly.

Berent. My conclusions, briefly, are that you have estimated your assets at £90,800. I estimate them at £40,600.

Tjaelde (quietly). That is to say, you make me out to have a deficit of about £30,000?

Berent. As to that, I must point out that your estimate of your liabilities does not agree with mine, either.

Tjaelde (quietly). Oh, of course not!

Berent. For instance, the dividend that MÖller's estate is to yield to you.

Tjaelde. No more details! What do you put my total liabilities at?

Berent. Let me see. Your total liabilities amount, according to your calculations, to £70,000. I estimate them at £80,000—to be precise, at £79,372.

Tjaelde. That puts my deficit at about—

Berent. At about £39,400—or, in round figures, £40,000.

Tjaelde. Oh, by all means let us stick to round figures!

Berent. So that the difference between your views of your balance-sheet and mine is that, whereas you give yourself a surplus of about £20,000, I give you a deficit of about £40,000.

Tjaelde. Thank you very much.—Do you know my opinion of the whole matter? (BERENT looks up at him.) That I am in this room with a madman.

Berent. I have had the same opinion for some time.—The stock of timber you hold in France I have not been able to deal with; you have forgotten to include it in your account. Perhaps it may make a little difference.

Tjaelde. It is of no consequence! I have often enough heard people speak of your callousness and your heartlessness; but their account of you has come nowhere near the truth. I don't know why I have not turned you out of my house long before this; but you will have the goodness to leave it now!

Berent. We shall both leave presently. But before we do, we must discuss the question of handing over the house to the Receiver in Bankruptcy.

Tjaelde. Ha, ha, ha! Allow me to inform you that at this very moment a sum is being telegraphed to me which will be sufficient not only to cover my present liabilities, but to set me straight in every direction!

Berent. The telegraph is a useful invention which is open to every one.

Tjaelde (after a moment's thought). What do you mean by that?

Berent. One effect of the noise of your festivities was that I used the telegraph also. Mr. Lind will receive, on board the boat, a telegram from his firm—and I doubt if the money you speak of will be forthcoming.

Tjaelde. It is not true! You have not dared to do that!

Berent. The facts are exactly as I state.

Tjaelde. Give me my balance-sheet; let me look at it again. (Stretches out his hand to take it.)

Berent (taking it up). Excuse me!

Tjaelde. Do you presume to keep back my own balance-sheet in my own writing?

Berent. Yes, and even to put it in my pocket. (Does so.) A fraudulent balance-sheet, dated and signed, is a document of some importance.

Tjaelde. You are determined to ruin my private and public reputation?

Berent. You have been working for that yourself for a long time. I know your position. For a month past I have been in correspondence with all the quarters in which you have business connections, both here any I abroad.

Tjaelde. What underhanded deceitfulness an honest man is exposed to! Here have I been surrounded by spies for the last month! A plot between my business acquaintances and the banks! A snake creeping into my house and crawling over my accounts! But I will break up the conspiracy! And you will find out what it mean, to try and ruin a reputable firm by underhand devices!

Berent. This is no time for fine phrases. Do you propose to surrender your property at once?

Tjaelde. Ha, ha! I am to surrender it because you have made me out a bankrupt on your bit of paper!

Berent. You might conceal the facts for a month, I know. But for your own sake, and especially for the sake of others, I would urgently advise you to end the matter at once. That was the reason of my journey here.

Tjaelde. Ah, now the truth is out! And you came here pretending a friendly concern that the tangle should be straightened out! We were to distinguish between the sound and unsound firms, and you requested me, most politely, to give you my assistance in the matter!

Berent. Exactly. But there is no question of anything unsound here except your own business and what is bound up with it.

Tjaelde (when he has controlled himself). So you came into my house with the hidden design of ruining me?

Berent. I must repeat that it is not I that am responsible for your bankruptcy; it is yourself.

Tjaelde. And I must repeat that my bankruptcy only exists in your imagination! Much may happen in a month; and I have shown that I can find a way out of difficulties before now!

Berent. That is to say, by involving yourself deeper and deeper in falsehood.

Tjaelde. Only a man of business can understand such things. But, if you really understand them, I would say to you: "Give me £20,000 and I will save the situation entirely." That would be doing something worthy of your great powers; that would give you a reputation for penetration in discerning the real state of affairs; because by so doing you would safeguard the welfare of more than a thousand people, and ensure a prosperous future for the whole district!

Berent. I don't rise to that bait.

Tjaelde (after a moment's reflection). Do you want me to explain to you how £20,000 would be sufficient to set the whole complicated situation straight? Within three months remittances would be coming in. I can make it its clear as daylight to you—

Berent.—that you would be falling from one disillusionment to another! That is what you have been doing for the last three years, from month to month.

Tjaelde. Because the last three years have been bad years—horrible years! But we have reached the crisis; things must begin to improve now!

Berent. That is what every defaulter thinks.

Tjaelde. Do not drive me to despair! Have you any idea what I have gone through in these three years? Have you any idea what I am capable of?

Berent. Of still further falsehood.

Tjaelde. Take care!—It is quite true that I am standing on the edge of a precipice. It is true that for three years I have done everything in mortal power to save the situation! I maintain that there has been something heroic in the fight I have made. And that deserves some reward. You have unrestricted powers; every one trusts you. Realise for yourself what your mission is; do not let it be necessary for me to teach it you! Let me tell you this, emphatically: it will be a dreadful thing for you if hundreds of people are to be ruined unnecessarily now!

Berent. Let us make an end of this.

Tjaelde. No, devil take me if I give up a fight like this with a senseless surrender!

Berent. How do you propose to end it, then?

Tjaelde. There is no issue to it that I have not turned over in my thoughts—thousands of times. I know what I shall do! I won't be a mark for the jeers of this wretched little town, nor triumphed over by those who have envied me all round the countryside!

Berent. What will you do, then?

Tjaelde. You shall see! (Speaking more and more excitedly.) You won't help me under any conditions?

Berent. No.

Tjaelde. You insist that I shall surrender my estate, here and now?

Berent. Yes.

Tjaelde. Hell and damnation! You dare do that?

Berent. Yes.

Tjaelde (his agitation robbing him of his voice, which all at once sinks to a hoarse whisper). You have never known what despair is!—You don't know what an existence I have endured!-But if the decisive moment has come, and I have a man here in my office who ought to save me but will not, then that man shall share what is in store for me.

Berent (leaning back in his chair). This is beginning to be impressive.

Tjaelde. No more jesting; you might regret it! (Goes to all the doors and locks them with a key which he takes out of his pocket; then unlocks his desk, and takes a revolver out of it.) How long do you suppose I have had this in here?

Berent. Since you bought it, I suppose.

Tjaelde. And why do you suppose I bought it?—Do you suppose that after I have been master of this town and the biggest man in the district, I would endure the disgrace of bankruptcy?

Berent. You have been enduring it for a long time.

Tjaelde. It is in your power now either to ruin me or to wave me. You have behaved in such a way that you deserve no mercy—and you shall have none! Report to the banks that they may give me the use of £14,000 for a year—I need no more than that—and I will save the situation for good and all. Think seriously, now! Remember my family, remember how long my firm has been established, remember the numbers that would be ruined if I were! And do not forget to think of your own family! Because, if you don't agree to what I ask, neither of us shall leave this room alive!

Berent (pointing to the revolver). Is it loaded?

Tjaelde (putting his finger on the trigger). You will find that out in good time. You must answer me now!

Berent. I have a suggestion to make. Shoot yourself first and me afterwards.

Tjaelde (going up to him and holding the revolver to his head). I will soon quiet your pretty wit.

Berent (getting up, and taking out of his pocket a paper which he unfolds). This is a formal surrender of your estate to the Receiver in Bankruptcy. If you sign it, you will be doing your duty to your creditors, to your family, and to yourself. Shooting yourself and me would only be adding an acted lie to all your others. Put away your revolver and take up your pen!

Tjaelde. Never! I had resolved on this long ago. But you shall keep me company, now!

Berent. Do what you please. But you cannot threaten me into a falsehood.

Tjaelde (who has lowered the revolver, takes a step back, raises the revolver and aims at BERENT). Very well!

Berent (walking up to TJAELDE and looking him straight in the eyes, while the latter reluctantly lowers the revolver). Do you suppose I don't know that a man who has for so long shivered with falsehood and terror in his inmost heart has lots of schemes but no courage? You dare not do it!

Tjaelde (furiously). I will show you! (Steps back and raises the revolver again.)

Berent (following him). Shoot, and you will hear a report—that is what you are longing for, I suppose! Or, give up your plan of shooting, think of what you have done, confess, and afterwards hold your tongue!

Tjaelde. No; may the devil take both you and me—

Berent. And the horse?

Tjaelde. The horse?

Berent. I mean the magnificent charger on which you came galloping home from the sale of MÖller's estate. You had better let some one shoot you on horseback—on what was your last and greatest piece of business duplicity! (Goes nearer to him and speaks more quietly.) Or—strip yourself of the tissue of lies which enfolds you, and your bankruptcy will bring you more blessing than your riches have ever done. (TJAELDE lets the revolver drop out of his hand, and sinks into a chair in an outburst of tears. There is silence for a moment.) You have made an amazing fight of it for these last three years. I do not believe I know any one who could have done what you have done. But you have lost the fight this time. Do not shrink now from a final settlement and the pain that it must cost you. Nothing else will cleanse your soul for you.

Tjaelde (weeping unrestrainedly, with his face buried in his hands). Oh, oh!

Berent. You have blamed me for my method of proceeding in the matter. My answer to that is that I forgive you for yours. (A pause.) Try now to look the situation in the face, and take it like a man.

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent. At the bottom of your heart you must be weary of it all; make an end of it all now!

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent (sitting down beside him, after a moment's pause). Wouldn't you like to feel your conscience clear again—to be able really to live with your wife and children? Because I am sure you have not done that for many a day.

Tjaelde (as before). Oh!

Berent. I have known many speculators in my time and have received many confessions. So I know what you have been robbed of for three years—never a good night's rest, never a meal eaten with a light heart. You have scarcely been conscious of what your children were doing or saying, except when accident brought you together. And your wife—

Tjaelde. My wife!

Berent. Yes, she has slaved hard enough to prepare these banquets that were to conceal the nakedness of the land. Indeed, she has been the hardest worked servant in your house.

Tjaelde. My patient, good wife!

Berent. I feel certain you would rather be the humblest labourer earning your daily bread than live through such suffering again.

Tjaelde. A thousand times rather!

Berent. Then can you hesitate to do what will give every man his due, and bring you back to truthfulness again? Take the paper and sign it!

Tjaelde (falling on his knees). Mercy, mercy! You do not know what you are asking me. My own children will curse me. I have just heard of a child doing that to her father! And my business friends, who will be ruined with me—numbers of them—think of their families! Oh! What is to become of my work-people? Do you know there are more than four hundred of them? Think of them and their families, robbed of their livelihood!—Be merciful! I cannot, I dare not, do it! Save me, help me! It was horrible of me to try and threaten you; but now I implore you, for the sake of all those that deserve more than I, but to whom I shall devote the rest of my life in loyal work!

Berent. I cannot save you, least of all with money that belongs to others. What you ask me to do would be disloyalty to them.

Tjaelde. No, no! Publish my accounts openly—put me under trustees, if you like; but let me go on with the scheme that I believe will succeed! Every clear-headed man will see that it must succeed!

Berent. Come and sit down. Let us discuss it. (TJAELDE sits down.) Isn't what you are now proposing exactly what you have been trying to do for the last three years? You have been able to borrow the means; but what good has it done?

Tjaelde. Times have been so bad!

Berent (shaking his head). You have mixed up falsehood and truth for so long that you have forgotten the simplest laws of commerce. To speculate during bad times, on the chance of their becoming better, is all very well for those who can afford it. Others must leave such things alone.

Tjaelde. But it is to the advantage of my creditors themselves, and of the banks too, that my estate should hold together!

Berent. It is of no advantage to sound firms to prop up unsound ones.

Tjaelde. But, surely, to avoid losing their capital—?

Berent, Oh, perhaps in the Receiver's hands the estate may—

Tjaelde (hopefully, half rising from his chair). Yes? Well?

Berent. But not till you have been removed from the control of it.

Tjaelde (sinking down again). Not till I have been removed from the control of it!

Berent. On its own resources I dare say the estate can hold out until better times come, but not on borrowed money.

Tjaelde. Not on borrowed money—

Berent. You understand the difference, of course?

Tjaelde. Oh, yes.

Berent. Good. Then you must understand that there is nothing left for you to do but to sign this.

Tjaelde. Nothing left but to sign—

Berent. Here is the paper. Come, now!

Tjaelde (rousing himself). Oh, I cannot, I cannot!

Berent. Very well. But in that case the crash will come of itself in a short time, and everything will be worse than it is now.

Tjaelde (falling on his knees).Mercy, mercy! I cannot let go of all hope! Think, after a fight like mine!

Berent. Tell the truth and say: "I haven't the courage to face the consequences."

Tjaelde. Yes, that is the truth.

Berent. "I haven't the courage to begin an honest life."

Tjaelde. Yes.

Berent. You don't know what you are saying, man!

Tjaelde. No, I don't. But spare me!

Berent (getting up). This is nothing but despair! I am sorry for you.

Tjaelde (getting up). Yes, surely you must be? Try me! Ask me to do anything you like! Tell me what you—

Berent. No, no! Before anything else, you must sign this.

Tjaelde (sinking back into his chair). Oh!—How shall I ever dare to look any one in the face again?—I, who, have defied everything and deceived every one!

Berent. The man who has enjoyed the respect which he did not deserve must some day undergo the humiliation which he has deserved. That is a law; and I cannot save you from that.

Tjaelde. But they will be crueller to me than to any one else! I deserve it, I know; but I shall not be able to endure it!

Berent. Hm! You are remarkably tough; your fight, these last three years, proves that.

Tjaelde. Be merciful! Surely your ingenuity—your influence—must be able to find some way out for me?

Berent. Yes. The way out is for you to sign this.

Tjaelde. Won't you even take it over from me by private contract? If you did that, everything would come right.

Berent. Sign! Here is the paper! Every hour is precious.

Tjaelde. Oh! (Takes up a pen; but turns to BERENT with a gesture of supplication.) Daren't you test me, after what I have just gone through?

Berent. Yes, when you have signed. (TJAELDE signs the paper, and sinks back in his chair with an expression of the keenest anguish. BERENT takes the paper, folds it, and puts it in his pocket-book.) Now I will go to the Bankruptcy Court with this, and afterwards to the telegraph office. Probably the officials of the court will come this evening to make their inventory. So you ought to warn your family.

Tjaelde. How shall I be able to do that? Give me a little time! Be merciful!

Berent. The sooner the better for you—not to speak of the interests of all concerned. Well, I have finished for the present.

Tjaelde. Don't desert me like this! Don't desert me!

Berent. You would like your wife to come to you, wouldn't you?

Tjaelde (resignedly). Yes.

Berent (taking up the revolver). And this—I will not take it with me. There is no danger from it now. But I will put it in the desk, for the sake of the others. Now, if you or yours should need me, send word to me.

Tjaelde. Thank you.

Berent. I shall not leave the town until the worst is over.—Remember, night or day, if you need me, send word to me.

Tjaelde. Thank you.

Berent. And now will you unlock the door for me?

Tjaelde (getting up). Ah, of course. Excuse me!

Berent (taking his hat and coat). Won't you call your wife now?

Tjaelde. No. I must have a little time first. I have the worst part of it before me now.

Berent. I believe you have, and that is just why—. (Takes hold of the bell-pull and rings the bell.)

Tjaelde. What are you doing?

Berent. I want, before I go, to be sure of your wife's coming to you.

Tjaelde. You should not have done that! (An office-boy comes in. BERENT looks at TJAELDE.) Ask your mistress—ask my wife to come to me.

Berent. At once, please. (The boy goes out.) Good-bye! (Goes out. TJAELDE sinks down on to a chair by the door.)

[The Curtain falls.]