Love's Comedy

by Henrik Ibsen

GULDSTAD [looks at him, smiles, and shakes his head].
My bold young Falk, reserve a while your mirth.—
There are two ways of founding an estate.
It may be built on credit—drafts long-dated
On pleasure in a never-ending bout,
On perpetuity of youth unbated,
And permanent postponement of the gout.
It may be built on lips of rosy red,
On sparkling eyes and locks of flowing gold,
On trust these glories never will be shed,
Nor the dread hour of periwigs be tolled.
It may be built on thoughts that glow and quiver,—
Flowers blowing in the sandy wilderness,—
On hearts that, to the end of life, for ever
Throb with the passion of the primal "yes."
To dealings such as this the world extends
One epithet: 'tis known as "humbug," friends.

FALK.
I see, you are a dangerous attorney,
You—well-to-do, a millionaire may-be;
While two broad backs could carry in one journey
All that beneath the sun belongs to me.

GULDSTAD [sharply].
What do you mean?

FALK.
That is not hard to see.
For the sound way of building, I suppose,
Is just with cash—the wonder-working paint
That round the widow's batten'd forehead throws
The aureole of a young adored saint.

GULDSTAD.
O no, 'tis something better that I meant.
'Tis the still flow of generous esteem,
Which no less honours the recipient
Than does young rapture's giddy-whirling dream.
It is the feeling of the blessedness
Of service, and home quiet, and tender ties,
The joy of mutual self-sacrifice,
Of keeping watch lest any stone distress
Her footsteps wheresoe'er her pathway lies;
It is the healing arm of a true friend
The manly muscle that no burdens bend,
The constancy no length of years decays,
The arm that stoutly lifts and firmly stays.
This, Svanhild, is the contribution I
Bring to your fortune's fabric: now, reply.
[SVANHILD makes an effort to speak; GULDSTAD lifts
his hand to check her.
Consider well before you give your voice!
With clear deliberation make your choice.

FALK.
And how have you discovered—

GULDSTAD.
That I love her?
That in your eyes 'twas easy to discover.
Let her too know it. [Presses his hand.
Now I will go in.
Let the jest cease and earnest work begin;
And if you undertake that till the end
You'll be to her no less a faithful friend,
A staff to lean on, and a help in need,
Than I can be— [Turning to SVANHILD.
Cancel it from the tables of your thought.
Then it is I who triumph in very deed;
You're happy, and for nothing else I fought.
[To FALK.
And, apropos—just now you spoke of cash,
Trust me, 'tis little more than tinsell'd trash.
I have not ties, stand perfectly alone;
To you I will make over all I own;
My daughter she shall be, and you my son.
You know I have a business by the border:
There I'll retire, you set your home in order,
And we'll foregather when a year is gone.
Now, Falk, you know me; with the same precision
Observe yourself: the voyage down life's stream,
Remember, is no pastime and no dream.
Now, in the name of God—make your decision!

[Goes into the house. Pause. FALK and
SVANHILD look shyly at each other.

FALK.
You are so pale.

SVANHILD.
And you so silent.