The concluding piece, "Pill-Doctor Herdal," is, as the observant reader will instantly perceive, rather a reverent attempt to tread in the footprints of the Norwegian dramatist, than a version of any actually existing masterpiece. The author is conscious that his imitation is painfully lacking in the mysterious obscurity of the original, that the vein of allegorical symbolism is thinner throughout than it should be, and that the characters are not nearly so mad as persons invariably are in real life – but these are the faults inevitable to a prentice hand, and he trusts that due allowances may be made for them by the critical.
In conclusion he wishes to express his acknowledgments to Messrs. Bradbury and Agnew for their permission to reprint the present volume, the contents of which made their original appearance in the pages of "Punch"
Sitting-room at Rosmershölm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows, ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it. Rebecca West is sitting knitting a large antimacassar which is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods expectantly to someone outside. Madam Helseth is laying the table for supper.
[Folding up her work slowly.] But tell me precisely, what about this white horse?
Lord forgive you, Miss! – [fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table] – but you're making fun of me!
[Gravely.] No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmershölm. Mr. Rosmer would not understand it. [Shutting window.] Ah, here is Rector Kroll. [Opening door.] You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I will tell them to give us some little extra dish.
[Hanging up his hat in the hall.] Many thanks. [Wipes his boots.] May I come in? [Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks about him.] And how do you and Rosmer get on together, eh?
Ever since your sister, Beata, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, we have been as happy as two little birds together. [After a pause, sitting down in arm-chair.] So you don't really mind my living here all alone with Rosmer? We were afraid you might, perhaps.
Why, how on earth – on the contrary, I shouldn't object at all if you – [looks at her meaningly] – h'm!
[Interrupting, gravely.] For shame, Rector; how can you make such jokes?
[As if surprised.] Jokes! We do not joke in these parts – but here is Rosmer.
So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year's absence. [Sits down.] We almost thought that —
[Nods.] So Miss West was saying – but you are quite mistaken. I merely thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor Beata's suicide, so I kept away. We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.
It was considerate – but unnecessary. Reb – I mean, Miss West – and I often allude to the incident, do we not?
[Strikes Tändstickor.] Oh yes, indeed. [Lighting lamp.] Whenever we feel a little more cheerful than usual.