cultural resources in henrik ibsen's early environment - Ibsen.net

Say nothing of what you did tonight,
If you hold your life dear: you understand me.
(The mason bows deeply, puts his finger to his mouth and
goes. The servants come and carry out his tools.)
Now we are alone, Clara. The wall stands
And strongly divides the past and the present.
In there, in that dark, empty room,
Which no eye can penetrate any more,
I have deposited my fear, my jealousy,
It sleeps there, forgotten and eternally mute.
Here, on the other side of the partition,
We stand, my wife, purified of everything
That force and anger laid between us.
Sit here beside me, Clara! I shall put
My severity aside with my sword, and absorb
Myself in bright, quiet domesticity.
(He takes off his hat and his sword, sits in an armchair and invites Clara to take a
place beside him. He seizes her hand.)
The dark night, the cozy night
Now spreads its soft cloak over us,
And rocks the soul, full of love and bliss,
Between those two: fear and hope.
Do you not feel its warm, light dream
Floating about your brow, beloved Clara?
Does not the night's secret stream
Flow like fire and oil through your veins?
Even on my hard, steel-covered soul
It sinks meltingly, like flute-sounds
On the mountains' dark forest one summer evening.
Why so mute? Why do you conceal your glance?
Here is your hand -- note -- it is also mine,
It lies ice-cold. Has it no pressure,
No sign of life for its rightful owner?
You do not answer. Is that your sign of fidelity then,
That truth you just swore to me on the crucifix?
In such a fashion a statue is true,
Which stands awkwardly on its pedestal
And gapes endlessly.
No, a woman's fidelity is not cold and stiff:
It overflows with the freshness of life,
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