(SCENE.--DR. STOCKMANN'S study. Bookcases and cabinets containing specimens, line the walls. At the back is a door leading to the hall; in the foreground on the left, a door leading to the sitting-room. In the righthand wall are two windows, of which all the panes are broken. The DOCTOR'S desk, littered with books and papers, stands in the middle of the room, which is in disorder. It is morning. DR. STOCKMANN in dressing-gown, slippers and a smoking-cap, is bending down and raking with an umbrella under one of the cabinets. After a little while he rakes out a stone.)Dr. Stockmann (calling through the open sitting-room door).
Katherine, I have found another one.
Mrs. Stockmann (from the sitting-room). Oh, you will find a lot more yet, I expect.
Dr. Stockmann (adding the stone to a heap of others on the table). I shall treasure these stones as relies. Ejlif and Morten shall look at them everyday, and when they are grown up they shall inherit them as heirlooms. (Rakes about under a bookcase.)Hasn't--what the deuce is her name?--the girl, you know--hasn't she been to fetch the glazier yet?
Mrs. Stockmann (coming in). Yes, but he said he didn't know if he would be able to come today.
Dr. Stockmann. You will see he won't dare to come.
Mrs. Stockmann. Well, that is just what Randine thought--that he didn't dare to, on account of the neighbours. (Calls into the sitting-room.) What is it you want, Randine? Give it to me. (Goes in, and comes out again directly.) Here is a letter for you, Thomas.
Dr. Stockmann. Let me see it. (Opens and reads it.) Ah!--of course.
Mrs. Stockmann. Who is it from?
Dr. Stockmann. From the landlord. Notice to quit.
Mrs. Stockmann. Is it possible? Such a nice manDr. Stockmann (looking at the letter). Does not dare do otherwise, he says. Doesn't like doing it, but dare not do otherwise--on account of his fellow-citizens--out of regard for public opinion. Is in a dependent position--dares not offend certain influential men.
Mrs. Stockmann. There, you see, Thomas!
Dr. Stockmann. Yes, yes, I see well enough; the whole lot of them in the town are cowards; not a man among them dares do anything for fear of the others. (Throws the letter on to the table.) But it doesn't matter to us, Katherine. We are going to sail away to the New World, and--Mrs. Stockmann. But, Thomas, are you sure we are well advised to take this step?
Dr. Stockmann. Are you suggesting that I should stay here, where they have pilloried me as an enemy of the people--branded me--broken my windows! And just look here, Katherine--they have torn a great rent in my black trousers too!
Mrs. Stockmann. Oh, dear!--and they are the best pair you have got!
Dr. Stockmann. You should never wear your best trousers when you go out to fight for ******* and truth. It is not that I care so much about the trousers, you know; you can always sew them up again for me. But that the common herd should dare to make this attack on me, as if they were my equals--that is what I cannot, for the life of me, swallow!
Mrs. Stockmann. There is no doubt they have behaved very ill toward you, Thomas; but is that sufficient reason for our leaving our native country for good and all?
Dr. Stockmann. If we went to another town, do you suppose we should not find the common people just as insolent as they are here? Depend upon it, there is not much to choose between them.
Oh, well, let the curs snap--that is not the worst part of it.
The worst is that, from one end of this country to the other, every man is the slave of his Party. Although, as far as that goes, I daresay it is not much better in the free West either;the compact majority, and liberal public opinion, and all that infernal old bag of tricks are probably rampant there too. But there things are done on a larger scale, you see. They may kill you, but they won't put you to death by slow torture. They don't squeeze a free man's soul in a vice, as they do here. And, if need be, one can live in solitude. (Walks up and down.) If only Iknew where there was a virgin forest or a small South Sea island for sale, cheap--Mrs. Stockmann. But think of the boys, Thomas!
Dr. Stockmann (standing still). What a strange woman you are, Katherine! Would you prefer to have the boys grow up in a society like this? You saw for yourself last night that half the population are out of their minds; and if the other half have not lost their senses, it is because they are mere brutes, with no sense to lose.
Mrs. Stockmann. But, Thomas dear, the imprudent things you said had something to do with it, you know.
Dr. Stockmann. Well, isn't what I said perfectly true? Don't they turn every idea topsy-turvy? Don't they make a regular hotchpotch of right and wrong? Don't they say that the things I know are true, are lies? The craziest part of it all is the fact of these "liberals," men of full age, going about in crowds imagining that they are the broad-minded party! Did you ever hear anything like it, Katherine!
Mrs. Stockmann. Yes, yes, it's mad enough of them, certainly;but--(PETRA comes in from the silting-room). Back from school already?
Petra. Yes. I have been given notice of dismissal.
Mrs. Stockmann. Dismissal?
Dr. Stockmann. You too?
Petra. Mrs. Busk gave me my notice; so I thought it was best to go at once.
Dr. Stockmann. You were perfectly right, too!
Mrs. Stockmann. Who would have thought Mrs. Busk was a woman like that!
Petra. Mrs. Busk isn't a bit like that, mother; I saw quite plainly how it hurt her to do it. But she didn't dare do otherwise, she said; and so I got my notice.
Dr. Stockmann (laughing and rubbing his hands). She didn't dare do otherwise, either! It's delicious!
Mrs. Stockmann. Well, after the dreadful scenes last night--Petra. It was not only that. Just listen to this, father!
Dr. Stockmann. Well?
Petra. Mrs. Busk showed me no less than three letters she received this morning--Dr. Stockmann. Anonymous, I suppose?
Petra. Yes.
Dr. Stockmann. Yes, because they didn't dare to risk signing their names, Katherine!
