(SCENE.—A room in HALVDAN REJN's house. He is lying, supported on pillows, on a sofa on the left-hand side of the room. There is a table in the background, and another near the sofa. A lamp is hanging from the ceiling, and another standing on the table at the back. HAAKON REJN, his dress proclaiming him to be a well-to-do yeoman farmer, is sitting on a chair by the sofa.)

Halvdan. So she couldn't come?

Haakon. No; there are the youngsters, you know—she finds it difficult to get away.

Halvdan (after a moment's silence). Remember to thank her for all her kindness to me. The happiest moments of my life have been those Sundays and evenings that she and you and I spent together at your house. (A pause.)

Haakon. She wanted very much to know how you were feeling—whether you, who have suffered so much, are at peace now.

Halvdan. At peace? A man who has to die with all his work unfinished, cannot easily root out all thoughts of that from his heart.

Haakon. You should try to lay in God's hands all that you have striven for.

Halvdan. That is what I struggle daily to do. (A pause.)

Haakon. A sister of my wife's, who was a widow and badly off, died leaving three young children. But she was glad to die. "Their Heavenly Father will help them better when I am out of the way," she said. "I took up too much room," she said; "I know I have often stood in their way." (A pause.)

Halvdan. You tell that just as your wife would; she told me that story once.

Haakon. I was to tell you from her that she believes you are to die in order that what you have worked for may come to its fullest fruit. She thinks that when you are gone, people will appreciate better what your aims were.

Halvdan. There is some comfort in the thought that I may be dying in order that what I have loved may live. I have already given up happiness-even honour-for it; I gladly give my life for it now. (A pause.)

Haakon. Do you bear ill-will to any of those who have opposed you so cruelly?

Halvdan. To no one.

Haakon. Not even to those whose doing it is that you are lying here?

Halvdan. No, to no one. (A pause.)

Haakon. Could you bear to read something hateful about yourself to-day?

Halvdan. I don't know.

Haakon. Then you have not done with it all yet.

Halvdan. No, I know I have not. It is only sometimes that the busy world outside seems to me like a ship sailing idly before the wind. More often, I am back in the midst of it again—planning, hoping, praying! I am young, you know, and have had to suffer so much—there was so much I wanted to do. (Lifts a handkerchief to his forehead. HAAKON helps him to wipe his face with it. A pause.)

Haakon. But it must be a comfort to you, too, that Harald is taking up what you are laying down. There is good stuff in him.

Halvdan. Yes.

Haakon. And he never says more than is necessary. The country folk will understand him all the better for it.

Halvdan. I hope so. As soon as he comes into my room I feel as if the atmosphere were charged with electricity—I feel as if I must have a part in what he is doing—and so I work, and tire myself out. Ah, it often seems very hard to have to die, and leave undone a great work that one has failed to accomplish!

Haakon. But you have made him what he is, you know—and many others.

Halvdan. I have started the fight, that is all. It is hard to have to desert at the beginning of it!—But God is good, and will understand; He will not be surprised at what my thoughts are full of, when I go to Him. (A ring is heard at the bell.)

Haakon. I expect that is Harald.

Halvdan. No, he never rings. Besides, I expect he is taking a walk, to think over what he is going to say to-night.

Haakon. Yes, I suppose it will be a big meeting. (The HOUSEKEEPER comes in.)

The Housekeeper. Mr. Evje is here, sir, asking for Mr. Harald. I told him we were expecting him every moment. Shall I ask him to come in?

Halvdan. Yes, show him in. (HAAKON gets up, as EVJE is shown in.)

Evje (to HALVDAN). Good evening! (Sees HAAKON.) Ah, good evening! So you have come? That is splendid. Is your wife with you?

Haakon. No, she couldn't leave the children.

Evje. I see. (To HALVDAN.) And how are you? About the same? Of course, yes.—Where is your brother?

Halvdan. He has his meeting to-night, you know.

Evje. His momentous meeting—I know! I am going to it myself!

Halvdan (turns his face towards him). You?

Evje. My object in coming here was to take him home with me, so that we could all go together to the meeting. We mean to go on to the platform with him; I mean people to see that we are with him!

Halvdan (turning his face away). Really!

Evje (to HAAKON). You never answered my letter, Mr. Rejn.

Haakon. No, I knew I was coming in to town.

Evje. Well—will you sell?

Haakon. No.

Evje. But, my dear Mr. Rejn, you have not sold a single potato to my distillery for five years! And with a farm like yours! This year you had the best crop in the whole valley.

Haakon. Oh, yes—it wasn't so bad.

Evje. Not so bad! It was an extraordinary crop; and, everywhere else round about, the crops were very middling.

Haakon. Oh, yes—it might have been worse.

Evje (laughing). I should think so! But then why won't you sell? (Turns to HALVDAN.) I hope you will excuse our talking business in a sick-room; a business man has to seize every opportunity, you know! (To HAAKON.) You have never got higher prices elsewhere than you have from me.

Haakon. No, so I believe; but I have my own reasons.

Evje. Your own reasons? What are they?

Haakon. I had a servant once—it is about five years ago now—a good, capable fellow. He used to take potatoes for me to the distillery every day, and every evening came back drunk. So I spoke to him seriously about it; and his answer was: "How do you suppose our brandy-merchants are to grow rich, if chaps like me don't drink pretty hard?" You know the man; he went into your service afterwards. But from that day I have never sold a potato to a distillery.

Evje. But, my dear Mr. Rejn, we cannot be held responsible for the use to which such rascals put God's gifts!

Haakon. No—no—I suppose not; still, I am not going to have anything more to do with it.

Evje (to HALVDAN). Do you think your brother will not be home before the meeting?

Halvdan. I should think he would; there is plenty of time yet.

Evje. There is; but I should have liked to take him home with me first. The fact is (laughs) I have promised my wife and daughter not to go home without him. You know what women are! Shall I just go into his room and wait for him? There is something I want to talk to him about, you know.

Halvdan. I don't think there is a fire in there.

Evje. Oh, well, never mind—I will sit here. I have got a newspaper to read, and you two must go on with your talk just as if I were not here! I shall hear nothing, because I have something to read that interests me. (He pulls a chair up to the table on the right with its back to HALVDAN. HAAKON brings the lamp from the table at the back.) Ah, thank you very much! Now, just talk away as if I were not here! (Takes the paper from his pocket and sits down.)

Haakon (sitting down again beside his brother). I should have liked to go to the meeting, too.

Halvdan. Of course you must go! You will hear Harald tell them how each nation has its own appointed task in the world; that is why it is a nation. But, as long as it does not realise the fact, its politics will be nothing but wrangling between the various class-interests—a haphazard struggle for power. Our nation has never got beyond that point! I have shouted myself to death over what is a mere market.

Evje (to himself, striking the table with his fist). The whole commercial community is insulted in this insult to me! I will stir them up at the meeting, and insist on our taking our revenge in common!

Haakon. I don't think things will be any better until we are better Christians. Men think of nothing nowadays but themselves and their position.

Evje (to himself). No, no-that wouldn't do. What would people say? They would only say I was badly hit by this.

Halvdan (half to himself). A Christian nation, thinking of nothing but its own interests—that is to say, power! Equality and Liberty have no meaning for it. Haakon, it surely will be bliss for a wounded soul to be taken into the Everlasting Love, high above all this so-called Christianity of the world! For my soul is sorely wounded!

Evje (to himself ). If only I could strike him dead!

Halvdan. But may they all be forgiven!—You asked just now whether I could bear to read something hateful about myself to-day. I think I could.

Haakon. Then I can tell you the other message she gave me for you. I have been a little shy of telling you that. It was that you should remember that you must do more than forgive; you must pray for them. (A pause.)

Halvdan (with his hand over his eyes). I do.

Evje (crumpling up the paper and throwing it on the floor). No, I won't stand it! If the blackguard—. (Gets up in alarm, as he realises what he has done, and is just going to pick up the paper; but at that moment turns round facing the others, and lets it lie.) No, I won't touch it again—never, as long as I live! (To the others.) You must forgive me, but I was reading something that upset me very much. Your brother will tell you all about it in the morning, no doubt. Poof—it is very warm in here! But, of course, that is natural in a sick-room. I don't think he can be coming now. I think, too, that I will go on, so as not to be late for the meeting; there is sure to be a difficulty in getting seats. I will get him to go home with me after the meeting, instead. That will be better, after all.

Haakon. I was thinking of going to the meeting. Would you mind if I went with you?—for I do not know the way myself.

Evje. You will come with me, Mr. Rejn? (To himself.) That will be splendid—to make my entrance in the company of one of our yeomen farmers! (Aloud.) By all means let us go together! I feel flattered by the opportunity, because I have always maintained that our yeomen are the pick of the nation. Well, then—(to Halvdan) I hope you will soon be feeling better, Mr. Rejn. God bless you!

Halvdan (raising himself on his elbow, and looking at him with a smile). Something must have gone amiss with you to-day.

Evje. Why do you say that?

Halvdan. Because as a rule you appear so composed so aloof from all this squabbling.

Evje (impetuously). But, do what I like, I am not allowed to keep aloof from it! I have no greater wish in the world than to do so, I can assure you. Oh, well, your excellent brother—my future son-in-law, as I am proud to call him—he will tell you all about it. Good-bye!—and—and—God bless you!

Haakon. Shall I tell your housekeeper to come to you?

Halvdan. Oh, no; but you might tell her to come in a little while.

Haakon. Good-bye for the present, then!

Halvdan. Thank you for coming! Good-bye. (Sinks back on to the sofa. The others go out, HAAKON turning round once at the door.)

Halvdan. It is something in the paper that has disturbed his equanimity. What can it be? The same thing that made Harald so gloomy to-day, I wonder? (Gets half up.) It is lying there.—No! What interest have I in all their petty spite now? (Sinks back again.) "Could you bear to read something hateful about yourself to-day?" Haakon asked. Then I suppose there is something about me in it to-day. (Puts his hand over his heart.) My heart doesn't seem to be beating any the faster for my knowing that. (Gets half up.) There it lies! (Sinks back again.) No, I am only trying to tempt myself. All the same, I should like to know how many stations I have passed on my journey to the great City of Peace! Can their malice affect me still? Surely I have passed that station?—It would be worth trying, to see. There it lies! (Takes up a stick that is standing by the sofa.) Surely I can get over there by myself? (Gets up from the sofa with the help of the stick, and smiles.) I have not much strength left. (Takes a few steps.) Scarcely enough to get across the floor. (A few more steps.) To think that I should have—so much vanity—my weak point—. (His breath fails him, but he gets as far as the chair on which EVJE was sitting, and sits down.) One ought to have done with all that before the soul can get quite away from the dust that—. (Begins to rake the paper towards him with his stick.) And here am I, sitting here raking more of it towards me!—No, let the thing lie! I won't soil my wings any more.—Poor Harald! He has to take up the burden now! What a horrible bungle it is, that we should be brought into the world to give each other as much pain as possible! (Decidedly.) Well, I am going to see what legacy of unhappiness I am leaving him! I want to have a vivid impression of the misery I am escaping from. There is a certain comfort even in that. (Bends down and picks up the paper, rests for a moment, and then unfolds the paper.) But this is not to-day's paper; it is dated for to-morrow! How can Evje have got hold of it? Yes, here is the date—Sunday. "Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath Day!" On that day men's souls should turn to God—and they offer Him this! It is after reading this that these fine ladies and gentlemen go to church! (Pushes the paper away from him.) Suppose these "Christians" were to be brought to judgment one day without warning?—Let us think of ourselves and not of others! (Lets his eye rest on the paper.) Does that mean me? (Reads.) "Not yet actually dead, but already canonised by a calculating brother—." (Checks himself.) God forgive them! (Reads on.) "His teachings will no doubt obtain him a paean of praise, but this will be—or, at least, so it is to be hoped—from within the closely locked doors of the state's prisons and houses of correction"—(checks himself a little)—"for that is whither he leads his followers."—Good God, to think that they can say such things!—And yet, they said worse things of Him! Peace! (Reads.) "No doubt he talks against Socialism; no doubt he coquets with Christianity; but it is by these very means that he has become so expert a seducer of men's opinions-which was his aim all along." (Puts his hands before his face.) I should not have read it; forgive me! I am too weak still!—Ah! I feel—what is it? (Puts his hands suddenly to his heart, still unconsciously grasping the newspaper in them.) I must get into my room—get to bed! (Gets up with the help of his stick.) If only I can get there! Oh, I feel it coming on!—I must—. (Tries to hurry, but when he is halfway across the floor he stumbles, throws out his hands but finds no support, staggers on for a few steps, and falls full length on the threshold of his bedroom, so that half his length lies within the door and half without. A moment later, the HOUSEKEEPER comes in.)

The Housekeeper (not observing that he is not still on the sofa). Won't you go to bed now, sir? You can't stand so much in one day. (Goes to the sofa.) Where is he? Surely he has not tried to walk in alone? (Hurries across to the bedroom door and almost falls over his body. She starts back with a scream.) Where is—? (Catches up the lamp, hurries back, and bends over him; then calls out, screaming:) Help! Help! (Rings the bell wildly. A MAID appears.) Mr. Halvdan is lying here! Heaven knows whether he is dead or alive! Run for the Doctor! Leave the door open behind you, and beg the first man you meet in the street to come up here at once and help me. Tell them it is a matter of life and death!

Maid. Yes!

The Housekeeper. Hurry!

Maid (going out). Yes, yes!

The Housekeeper (coming back into the room). Is he alive or dead? I haven't the courage to find out. And both his brothers away! (Cries.) God grant some one comes soon!—Poor man, alone in his death as he was in his life! But what was he doing there? Why did he get up from the sofa? (Sees the paper.) Surely that can't be—? (Puts the lamp on the floor and unfolds the paper.) Yes, it is the paper, right enough! Who can have given it him? I can't look at it now; but if it is like the number I read the other day (lets the paper fall, and gets up with the lamp) then I understand everything—and may God requite those that do such things! (The EDITOR rushes in.)

The Editor. Is it here?

The Housekeeper (holds the lamp to him, then starts back). What do you want here?

The Editor. Where am I? A girl came running down the street and told me I must come up here and help some one that was dying. What do you want me to do?—or is it not here?

The Housekeeper. And it was you she met? It is the hand of God!

The Editor. What are you babbling about? If it is not here, say so at once.

The Housekeeper. Yes, it is here. There he lies!

The Editor. Then oughtn't we to get him into bed?

The Housekeeper. Yes. But do you know who it is you are helping?

The Editor (to himself). She is not very polite. (Aloud.) No; but what does that matter?

The Housekeeper. This much—that it is you that have killed him.

The Editor. I—? She is mad.

The Housekeeper. The man lying there is Halvdan Rejn. And he had been reading about himself in your paper.—Come, now, and carry him in. (She goes into the bedroom with the lamp. Her voice is heard from inside the room.) Now, take hold of him and lift him. You can think afterwards.

The Editor (stoops to lift the body, but gets up again). I don't think he is dead yet.

The Housekeeper. All the more reason to make haste.

The Editor (stoops down again, but gets up once more.) Let me take his head.

The Housekeeper. Why?

The Editor. So that—if he should open his eyes

The Housekeeper.—he won't see you. (Comes out of the bedroom). Go in there, then, and take his head. (He goes in.) What was that?

The Editor (from inside the room). I slipped. There is something wet here.

The Housekeeper. Yes, he has had a hemorrhage. Carefully, now. (They carry him in. The stage remains empty for a moment. Then the EDITOR comes back, wiping his forehead. He walks backwards and forwards, treading on the paper as he goes, but without noticing it.)

The Editor. What a horrible thing to happen!—Newspapers are not meant for dying people.—It is not my fault.—Is this blood on my hand? It is! (Wipes it with his handkerchief.) And now it is on my handkerchief! (Throws it away.) No, it has my name on it. (Picks it up again.) No one can say it is my fault. (Sits down, then gets up, wiping his forehead with his handkerchief without noticing what he is doing.) Ah, I hope I haven't put blood on my forehead? I seem to feel it there! (Feels with his hand to see if his brow is wet.) No. (Sits down, then gets up again.) Let me get away from here. (Stops.) To think that I should be the one to come up! that it should just happen to-night that I did not receive my paper, and so went out! It almost seems more than accident. Indeed, I often had a foreboding that it would happen. (Stands opposite the bedroom door.) But is he dead? I think I will go and fetch the Doctor. Oh no, of course the maid has gone for him. He hasn't long to live, anyway; I could see that. (Walks forward, pointing with his finger.) "There goes the man that killed Halvdan Rejn! And his punishment was that he had to lift up his bloodstained body himself." That is what they will say; and they will look at me as if—. (Sits down.) No, let me get away! (Takes a few steps, then stops suddenly.) That article in to-morrow's paper! It is worse than the others! (Pulls out his watch.) Too late—the post has gone! I would have given—. (Checks himself.) I have nothing worth giving. In the morning It will be known all over the town just as everyone is reading my fresh article. There will be a riot; I shall be hunted like a wild beast. What shall I do? I might sneak out of the town? Then they will gloat over me! I won't allow them that pleasure! No, I cannot stay my hand utter a failure; only after a victory. That is the cursed part of it-never, never to be able to end it. Oh, for some one that could end it—end it, end it! Oh, for one day of real peace! Shall I ever get that? (Sits down.) No, no, I must get away! (Gets up.) To-morrow must take care of itself. (Starts.) There is the paper he was reading! (Steps over it.) I will take it away—and burn it. (Takes it up.) I cannot burn it here; some one might come. (Is just going to put it into his pocket, as it is, but takes it out again to fold it better.) A Sunday's paper, apparently! Then it is not to-day's? An old number, I suppose. Then the whole thing is a mistake! (Sighs with relief.) Let me look again! (Opens the paper, tremblingly.) I don't deserve it, but—. (Reads.) Sunday, the—. To-morrow's paper? Here? How in all the world did it get here? (Appears horrified.) Here are the articles about Evje! How on earth did they get in? Didn't I send a message? Didn't I write? This on the top of everything else! Are even my printers conspiring against me? Well, even if it ruins me, I shall go on! They shall find out what I can do. How on earth can I be expected to help it if a weak-minded fellow dies, or if my printers are drunk or my manager has delirium tremens! I shall pursue my end through all chances and in spite of all their tricks, and I shall crush them, crush them—I shall—. (Gives way to a paroxysm of rage. At this moment the MAID comes in with the DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT. The MAID rushes into the bedroom. The EDITOR starts up.) Who is that? What do you want?

The Doctor's Assistant (coldly). What do you want here?

The Editor. I? Oh, I was called up to help the sick man into his bed.

The Doctor's Assistant (as before). Ah!—so it was you! (A pause.)

The Editor. Have you ever seen me before?

The Doctor's Assistant. Yes. I have heard you grind your teeth before this. (Goes into the bedroom.)

The Editor (after standing for a moment looking after him). They will all look at me to-morrow like that-with those cold eyes. "Every man's hand against him, and his hand against every man;" there can only be one end to that. To-night, the meeting—and Harald Rejn will take them by storm. To-morrow, his brother's death—and my new article in the paper—and, in addition to that, those about Evje, who at present is only angry. And the election in two days! Oh, yes, he will be elected now. So I may as well give it all up at once. I would change places with any wolf that has a lair to hide in. Those cold eyes of his! (Shudders.) That is how every one will look at me to-morrow! They have pierced through my armour! (The DOCTOR'S ASSISTANT comes back, and the EDITOR makes an effort to resume his former confident manner.)

The Doctor's Assistant. I don't know whether you will be glad to hear that it is all over.

The Editor (under his breath). You brute!

The Doctor's Assistant. His old housekeeper does not feel equal to coming here to tell you what his last words were. They were: "Forgive him!" (Goes out.)

The Editor (sitting down, then getting up again). No, I mustn't be found here. (Walks about the room on tiptoe, as if he were afraid of waking some one. When he comes opposite to the bedroom door, he turns towards it, stretches out his arms and says:) Give me your forgiveness too!