Early Plays, Henrik Ibsen [best historical fiction books of all time TXT] 📗

thoughts; they profit naught;

Act like a man; still can this fight be won;

A bold resolve now--; you have friends enough;

Speak but the word, and we shall follow you.--

You are not tempted?  Answer!

 

CATILINE.  No, I say!

And why are you so eager to conspire?

Be honest!  Are you driven by thirst for freedom?

Is it in order to renew Rome's splendor

That you would ruin all?

 

LENTULUS.  Indeed, 'tis not;

Yet surely is the hope of personal greatness

Sufficient motive for our enterprise!

 

CETHEGUS.  And means enough to taste the joys of life

Are not, in truth, to be so lightly scorned.

That is my motive;--I am not ambitious.

 

CATILINE.  I knew it.  Only mean and paltry motives,

The hope of private vantage, urge you on.

No, no, my friends; I aimed at nobler things!

True, I have sought with bribes and promises

To seize ere now the consulate, and yet

My plan was greater and comprised much more

Than means like these would point to.  Civic freedom,

The welfare of the state,--these were my aims.

Men have misjudged, appearances belied me;

My fate has willed it so.  It must so be!

 

CETHEGUS.  True;  but the thought of all your many friends

Whom you can save from ruin and disgrace--?

You know, we shall ere long be driven to take

The beggars' staff because of our wild living.

 

CATILINE.  Then stop in season; that is my resolve.

 

LENTULUS.  What, Catiline,--now you intend to change

Your mode of life?  Ha, ha! you surely jest?

 

CATILINE.  I am in earnest,--by the mighty gods!

 

CETHEGUS.  Then there is nothing we can do with him.

Come, Lentulus, the others we'll inform

What answer he has given.  We shall find

The merry company with Bibulus.

 

CATILINE.  With Bibulus?  How many a merry night

We have caroused at Bibulus' table!

Now is the tempest of my wild life ended;

Ere dawns the day I shall have left the city.

 

LENTULUS.  What is all this?

 

CETHEGUS.  You mean to go away?

 

CATILINE.  This very night my wife and I together

Shall bid farewell to Rome forevermore.

In quiet Gaul we two shall found a home;--

The land I cultivate shall nourish us.

 

CETHEGUS.  You will forsake the city, Catiline?

 

CATILINE.  I will; I must!  Disgrace here weighs me down.

Courage I have to bear my poverty,

But in each Roman face to read disdain

And frank contempt--!  No, no; that is too much!

In Gaul I'll live in quiet solitude;

There shall I soon forget my former self,

Dull all my longings for the greater things,

And as the vaguest dream recall the past.

 

LENTULUS.  Then fare you well; may fortune follow you!

 

CETHEGUS.  Remember us with kindness, Catiline,

As we shall you remember!  To our brothers

We will relate this new and strange resolve.

 

CATILINE.  Then give them all a brother's hearty greeting!

 

[LENTULUS and CETHEGUS leave.]

 

[AURELIA has entered from the side, hut-stops frightened at the

sight of those who are leaving; when they are gone she

approaches CATILINE.]

 

AURELIA.  [Gently reprimanding.]

Again these stormy comrades in your house?

O Catiline--!

 

CATILINE.  This was their final visit.

I bade them all farewell.  Now every bond

Forevermore is broken that bound me fast

And fettered me to Rome.

 

AURELIA.  I've gathered up

Our bit of property.  Not much perhaps;--

Yet, Catiline, enough for our contentment.

 

CATILINE.  [Engrossed in thought.]

More than enough for me who squandered all.

 

AURELIA.  Oh, brood no more on things we can not change;--

Forget what--

 

CATILINE.  Happy he who could forget,--

Who could the memory tear from out his soul,

The many hopes, the goal of all desires.

Ah, time is needed ere I reach that state;

But I shall struggle--

 

AURELIA.  I shall help you strive;

You shall be comforted for all your loss.

Yet we must leave as soon as possible.

Here life calls to you with a tempter's voice.

Is it not so,--we go this very night?

 

CATILINE.  Yes, yes,--we leave this very night, Aurelia!

 

AURELIA.  The little money left I've gathered up;

And for the journey it will be enough.

 

CATILINE.  Good!  I shall sell my sword and buy a spade.

What value henceforth is a sword to me?

 

AURELIA.  You clear the land, and I shall till the soil.

Around our home will grow in floral splendor

A hedge of roses, sweet forget-me-nots,

The silent tokens of a chastened soul,

When as some youthful comrade you can greet

Each memory recurrent of the past.

 

CATILINE.  That time, Aurelia?  Ah, beloved, I fear--

That hour lies in a distant future's keeping.

 

CATILINE.  [In a milder tone.]

But go, dear wife, and, while you may, repose.

Soon after midnight we shall start our journey.

The city then is lapped in deepest slumber,

And none shall guess our hidden destination.

The first glow in the morning sky shall find us

Far--far away; there in the laurel grove

We'll rest ourselves upon the velvet grass.

 

AURELIA.  A new life opens up before us both--

Richer in happiness than this that's ended.

Now will I go.  An hour's quiet rest

Will give me strength--.  Good-night, my Catiline!

 

[She embraces him and goes out.]

 

CATILINE.  [Gazes after her.]

Now is she gone!  And I--what a relief!

Now can I cast away this wearisome

Hypocrisy, this show of cheerfulness,

Which least of all is found within my heart.

She is my better spirit.  She would grieve

Were she to sense my doubt.  I must dissemble.

Yet shall I consecrate this silent hour

To contemplation of my wasted life.--

This lamp,--ah, it disturbs my very thoughts;--

Dark it must be here,--dark as is my soul!

 

[He puts out the light; the moon shines through the pillars in

the rear.]

 

CATILINE.

Too light,--yes, still too light!  And yet, no matter;--

The pallid moonlight here does well befit

The twilight and the gloom that shroud my soul,--

Have ever shrouded all my earthly ways.

 

CATILINE.  Hm, Catiline, then is this day your last;

Tomorrow morning you will be no longer

The Catiline you hitherto have been.

Distant in barren Gaul my life shall run

Its course, unknown as is a forest stream.--

Now am I wakened from those many visions

Of power, of greatness, of a life of deeds;--

They vanished like the dew; in my dark soul

They struggled long and died,--unseen of men.

 

CATILINE.  Ah, it is not this dull and drowsy life,

Far from all mundane tumult, that affrights me.

If only for a moment I could shine,

And blaze in splendor like a shooting star,--

If only by a glorious deed I could

Immortalize the name of Catiline

With everlasting glory and renown,--

Then gladly should I, in the hour of triumph,

Forsake all things,--flee to a foreign strand;--

I'd plunge the dagger in my exiled heart,

Die free and happy; for I should have lived!

 

CATILINE.  But oh,--to die without first having lived.

Can that be possible?  Shall I so die?

 

[With uplifted hands.]

 

CATILINE.  A hint, oh angry powers,--that it is

My fate to disappear from life forgotten,

Without a trace!

 

FURIA.  [Outside behind the pillars.]  It is not, Catiline!

 

CATILINE.  [Taken aback.]

Who speaks?  What warning voice is this I hear?

A spirit voice from out the underworld!

 

FURIA.  [Comes forward in the moonlight.]  I am your shadow.

 

CATILINE.  [Terrified.]  What,--the vestal's ghost!

 

FURIA.  Deep must your soul have sunk if you recoil

From me!

 

CATILINE.  Speak!  Have you risen from the grave

With hatred and with vengeance to pursue me?

 

FURIA.  Pursue you,--did you say?  I am your shadow.

I must be with you wheresoe'er you go.

 

[She comes nearer.]

 

CATILINE.  She lives!  O gods,--then it is she,--no other,

No disembodied ghost.

 

FURIA.  Or ghost or not,--

It matters little; I must follow you.

 

CATILINE.  With mortal hate!

 

FURIA.  Hate ceases in the grave,

As love and all the passions do that flourish

Within an earthly soul.  One thing alone

In life and death remains unchangeable.

 

CATILINE.  And what?  Say forth!

 

FURIA.  Your fate, my Catiline!

 

CATILINE.  Only the gods of wisdom know my fate,--

No human being.

 

FURIA.  Yet I know your fate.

I am your shadow;--strange, mysterious ties

Bind us together.

 

CATILINE.  Bonds of hatred.

 

FURIA.  No!

Rose ever spirit from the dankest grave

For hate and vengeance?  Listen, Catiline!

The rivers of the underworld have quenched

Each earthly flame that raged within my breast.

As you behold me here, I am no longer

The stormy Furia,--wild and passionate,--

Whom once you loved--

 

CATILINE.  You do not hate me then?

 

FURIA.  Ah, now no more.  When in the tomb I stood,--

And faltered on the path that separates

This life from death, at any moment ready

To greet the underworld,--lo, seized me then

An eerie shuddering; I know not what--;

I felt in me a mystic transformation;--

Away flowed hate, revenge, my very soul;

Each memory vanished and each earthly longing;--

Only the name of "Catiline" remains

Written in fiery letters on my heart.

 

CATILINE.  Ah, wonderful!  No matter who you are,--

A human form, a shadow from the dead,--

There lies withal a dreadful fascination

In your dark eyes, in every word you speak.

 

FURIA.  Your mind is strong as mine; yet you give up,

Disheartened and irresolute, each hope

Of triumph and dominion.  You forsake

The battlefield, where all your inmost plans

Could grow and blossom forth into achievement.

 

CATILINE.  I must!  Inexorable fate decrees it!

 

FURIA.  Your fate?  Why were you given a hero's strength,--

If not to struggle with what you call fate?

 

CATILINE.  Oh, I have fought enough!  Was not my life

A constant battle?  What are my rewards?

Disgrace and scorn--!

 

FURIA.  Ah, you are fallen low!

You struggle towards a high and daring goal,

Are eager to attain it; yet you fear

Each trifling hindrance.

 

CATILINE.  Fear is not the reason.

The goal I sought is unattainable;--

The whole was but a fleeting dream of youth.

 

FURIA.  Now you deceive yourself, my Catiline!

You hover still about that single project;--

Your soul is noble,--worthy of a ruler,--

And you have friends--.  Ah, wherefore hesitate?

 

CATILINE.  [Meditating.]

I shall--?  What do you mean--?  With civil blood--?

 

FURIA.  Are you a man,--yet lack a woman's courage?

Have you forgot that nimble dame of Rome,

Who sought the throne straight over a father's corpse?

I feel myself a Tullia now; but you--?

Scorn and despise yourself, O Catiline!

 

CATILINE.  Must I despise myself because my soul

No longer harbors selfish aspirations?

 

FURIA.  You stand here at a cross-road in your life;

Yonder a dull, inactive course awaits you,--

A half-way something, neither sleep nor death;--

Before you, on the other hand, you see

A sovereign's throne.  Then choose, my Catiline!

 

CATILINE.  You tempt me and allure me to destruction.

 

FURIA.  Cast but the die,--and in your hand is placed

Forevermore the welfare of proud Rome.

Glory and might your silent fate conceals,

And yet you falter,--dare not lift a hand!

You journey yonder to the forests, where

Each longing that you cherished will be quenched.

Ah, tell me, Catiline, is there no trace

Of thirst for glory left within your heart?

And must this princely soul, for triumphs born,

Vanish unknown in yonder nameless desert?

Hence, then!  But know that thus you lose forever

What here you could by daring deeds attain.

 

CATILINE.  Go on, go on!

 

FURIA.  With trembling and with fear

The future generations will recall

Your fate.  Your life was all a daring game;--

Yet in the lustre of atonement it would shine,

Known to all men, if with a mighty hand

You fought your way straight through this surging

throng,--

If the dark night of thraldom through your rule

Gave way before a new-born day of freedom,--

If at some time you--

 

CATILINE.  Hold!  Ah, you have touched

The string that quivers deepest in my soul.

Your every word sounds like a ringing echo

Of what my heart has whispered day and night.

 

FURIA.  Now, Catiline, I know you once again!

 

CATILINE.  I shall not go!  You have recalled to life

My youthful zeal, my manhood's full-grown longings.

Yes, I shall be a light to fallen Rome,--

Daze them with fear like some erratic star!

You haughty wretches,--you shall soon discover

You have not humbled me, though for a time

I weakened in the heat of battle!

 

FURIA.  Listen!

Whatever be the will of fate,--whatever

The mighty gods decree, we must obey.

Just so!  My hate is gone;--fate thus decreed,

And so it had to be!  Give me your hand

In solemn compact!--Ah, you hesitate?

You will not?

 

CATILINE.  Will--?  I gaze upon your eyes:

They flash,--like lightning in the gloom of night.

Now did you smile!  Just so I've often pictured

Nemesis--

 

FURIA.  What?  Herself you wish to see,--

Then look within.  Have you forgot your oath?

 

CATILINE.  No, I remember;--yet you seem to me

A Nemesis--

 

FURIA.  I am an image born

From your own soul.

 

CATILINE.  [Meditating.]  What is all this you say?

I sense but vaguely what I fail to grasp;

I glimpse mysterious, strangely clouded visions,--

But can not understand.  I grope in darkness!

 

FURIA.  It must be dark here.  Darkness is our realm;--

In darkness is our rule.  Give me your hand

In solemn pledge!

 

CATILINE.  [Wildly.]  O lovely Nemesis,--

My shadow,--image of my very soul,--

Here is my hand in everlasting compact.

 

[He seizes her hand violently; she looks at him with a stern

smile.]

 

FURIA.  Now we can never part!

 

CATILINE.  Ah, like a stream

Of fire your touch went coursing through my veins!

'Tis blood no more that flows, but fiery flames;--

My breast now cabins and confines my heart;

My sight grows dull.  Soon shall a flaming sea

Illumine with its light the Roman state!

 

[He draws his sword and brandishes it.]

 

CATILINE.  My sword!  My sword!  Do you see how it flashes?

Soon will it redden