The demand was only meant symbolically, but Helmer took her hand in his, and she got a degree of calm, of consolation from the firm grasp.
“What is the matter, Franka?” he asked tenderly. “What has come over you suddenly? Timidity?... You, the victorious, you, ‘the Garlett’?”
“Dear me, it is hard to explain. Timidity? Yes, and such a sense of emptiness, such a lack of impulse. When, before, I have spoken to my audiences of women, I have had something to say to them.... I wanted to persuade them, I wanted to transfer to their souls what filled my own soul to the brim. My addresses were a means, not an end.... But here: I cannot feel the impulse to persuade all these people,—beginning with Mr. Toker and his guests,—and all these princes and diplomats and my aunts and Coriolan (why didn’t they stay at home?)—to persuade them, I say, that the young girls of our day must assume new duties.... And I shall stand there on the platform, in order to perform—hateful term!—in order to show the inquisitive company whether I have sufficient ability to be accepted as one of the Rose-Knights, whether I really deserved to be invited by Mr. Toker. These people are not at all here to get edification, but they come as critics; and I am here, not as one urging, but as an artist, and I am not that. For if the inner impulse fails, then I can’t speak ... and that is the reason why I am unhappy....”
Chlodwig pressed her hand still more firmly. “I understand you, Franka. But oh, your lips are actually trembling, like a child’s when it wants to cry. Do not be faint-hearted; there will be a way out of this difficulty. If it is really only what you have just told me, then it is easy enough to help you. Or, perhaps, is it a fit of strained nerves? Possibly the work that you have chosen does not satisfy you any longer;—perhaps the emptiness which you complain of is the emptiness of your heart, a conscious or an unconscious yearning;—or is it that you are tired of these roses here, and,” with a glance at the basket, “are longing for more violets?”
Franka shook her head vigorously. “Leave the violets out of the question. I have told you the honest truth, why I dread this evening so much.”
“Well, then, we shall meet that difficulty. Let me think.”
He leaned his elbow on the table and supported his head with his hand. Franka looked up to him—expectantly and trustfully. The thoughtful expression of his face touched and moved her: he was employing his faculties for her. He wanted to help her. Ah, after the verb “to love,” “to help” is the most beautiful verb in the world!
After a while he began to speak, looking her full in the eye: “The public, whose criticism and lack of sympathy thou fearest—forgive me for using the familiar ‘du’ ... I drifted back to the time when I wrote you those letters as your brother in the spirit—this public must vanish, must really vanish out of your consciousness. You must put it out of existence yourself with your own introductory words. There must be the feeling that it really is not there, this public—that therefore it has no right to criticize you. You are not speaking to it—it can only listen, while you are speaking to a hundred thousand others. Aye, to millions, perhaps; ... it is your best opportunity—that must inspire you and fire you. Up till now you have been following a fine, brilliant career; to-day you will set the crown to it. Begin your address with the words: ‘You young girls, now listen to me’; and then continue in some such way as this: ‘Forgive me, ladies and gentlemen! I know very well that in this distinguished assembly assuredly there will be only a small percentage of young girls, and therefore my words will arouse only a feeble echo in this room. But here I stand because I have undertaken to deliver a message—a message to young people of my own sex showing them the way which—as I believe—will lead the girls themselves and at the same time all human society to higher aims. And to-day in this hall, the windows of which look out into the wide world, the opportunity is vouchsafed me to be heard by invisible throngs of those to whom my life-work is dedicated, and therefore it is a sacred duty to direct my utterances only to these and to call out more loudly and joyfully than ever before: “Ye young maidens, listen to me!”’ After this exordium, Franka, the whole audience of those that disturb you will vanish out of your consciousness, and you can repeat to the invisible listeners all the things with which at your first appearance you took all maiden hearts by storm.”
Franka sprang up and reached Helmer both her hands. “Thanks, Brother Chlodwig, that is, indeed, a saving way out. You are and always will be my dear master!”
Some one knocked at the door. Franka let go Helmer’s hands and cried: “Come in.”