Rebecca. Yes, innocence--which is at the root of all joy and happiness. That was the teaching, you know, that you wanted to see realised by all the men you were going to raise up to nobility and happiness.
Rosmer. Ah, do not remind me of that. It was nothing but a half-dreamt dream, Rebecca--a rash suggestion that I have no longer any faith in. Human nature cannot be ennobled by outside influences, believe me.
Rebecca (gently). Not by a tranquil love, do you think?
Rosmer (thoughtfully). Yes, that would be a splendid thing-almost the most glorious thing in life, I think if it were so.
(Moves restlessly.) But how am I ever to clear up the question?-how am I to get to the bottom of it?
Rebecca. Do you not believe in me, John?
Rosmer. Ah, Rebecca, how can I believe you entirely--you whose life here has been nothing but continual concealment and secrecy!--And now you have this new tale to tell. If it is cloaking some design of yours, tell me so--openly. Perhaps there is something or other that you hope to gain by that means? I will gladly do anything that I can for you.
Rebecca (wringing her hands). Oh, this killing doubt! John, John--!
Rosmer. Yes, I know, dear--it is horrible--but I cannot help it. Ishall never be able to free myself from it--never be able to feel certain that your love for me is genuine and pure.
Rebecca. But is there nothing in your own heart that bears witness to the transformation that has taken place in me--and taken place through your influence, and yours alone!
Rosmer. Ah, my dear, I do not believe any longer in my power to transform people. I have no belief in myself left at all. I do not believe either in myself or in you.
Rebecca (looking darkly at him). How are you going to live out your life, then?
Rosmer. That is just what I do not know--and cannot imagine. I do not believe I can live it out. And, moreover, I do not know anything in the world that would be worth living for.
Rebecca. Life carries a perpetual rebirth with it. Let us hold fast to it, dear. We shall be finished with it quite soon enough.
Rosmer (getting up restlessly). Then give me my faith back again!--my faith in you, Rebecca--my faith in your love! Give me a proof of it! I must have some proof!
Rebecca. Proof? How can I give you a proof--!
Rosmer. You must! (Crosses the room.) I cannot bear this desolate, horrible loneliness--this-this--. (A knock is heard at the hall door.)Rebecca (getting up from her chair). Did you hear that?
(The door opens, and ULRIK BRENDEL comes in. Except that he wears a white shirt, a black coat and, a good pair of high boots, he is dressed as in the first act. He looks troubled.)Rosmer. Ah, it is you, Mr. Brendel!
Brendel. John, my boy, I have come to say good-bye to you!
Rosmer. Where are you going, so late as this?
Brendel. Downhill.
Rosmer. How--?
Brendel. I am on my way home, my beloved pupil. I am homesick for the great Nothingness.
Rosmer. Something has happened to you, Mr. Brendel! What is it?
Brendel. Ah, you notice the transformation, then? Well, it is evident enough. The last time I entered your doors I stood before you a man of substance, slapping a well-filled pocket.
Rosmer. Really? I don't quite understand--Brendel. And now, as you see me to-night, I am a deposed monarch standing over the ashes of my burnt-out palace.
Rosmer. If there is any way I can help you Brendel. You have preserved your childlike heart, John--can you let me have a loan?
Rosmer. Yes, most willingly!
Brendel. Can you spare me an ideal or two?
Rosmer. What do you say?
Brendel. One or two cast-off ideals? You will be doing a good deed. I am cleaned out, my dear boy, absolutely and entirely.
Rebecca. Did you not succeed in giving your lecture?
Brendel. No, fair lady. What do you think?--just as I was standing ready to pour out the contents of my horn in plenty, I made the painful discovery that I was bankrupt.
Rebecca. But what of all your unwritten works, then?
Brendel. For five and twenty years I have been like a miser sitting on his locked money-chest. And then to-day, when I opened it to take out my treasure--there was nothing there! The mills of time had ground it into dust. There was not a blessed thing left of the whole lot.
Rosmer. But are you certain of that?
Brendel. There is no room for doubt, my dear boy. The President has convinced me of that.
Rosmer. The President?
Brendel. Oh, well--His Excellency, then. Ganz nach Belieben.
Rosmer. But whom do you mean?
Brendel. Peter Mortensgaard, of course.
Rosmer. What!
Brendel (mysteriously). Hush, hush, hush! Peter Mortensgaard is Lord and Chieftain of the Future. I have never stood in a more august presence. Peter Mortensgaard has the power of omnipotence in him. He can do whatever he wants.
Rosmer. Oh, come--don't you believe that!
Brendel. It is true, my boy--because Peter Mortensgaard never wants to do more than he can. Peter Mortensgaard is capable of living his life without ideals. And that, believe me, is precisely the great secret of success in life. It sums up all the wisdom of the world. Basta!
Rosmer (in a low voice). Now I see that you are going away from here poorer than you came.
Brendel. Bien! Then take an example from your old tutor. Erase from your mind everything that he imprinted there. Do not build your castle upon the shifting sand. And look well ahead, and be sure of your ground, before you build upon the charming creature who is sweetening your life here.
Rebecca. Do you mean me?
Brendel. Yes, most attractive mermaid!
Rebecca. Why am I not fit to build upon?
Brendel (taking a step nearer to her). I understood that my former pupil had a cause which it was his life's work to lead to victory.
Rebecca. And if he has--?
Brendel. He is certain of victory--but, be it distinctly understood, on one unalterable condition.
Rebecca. What is that?