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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Plays: the Father; Countess Julie; the Outlaw; the Stronger"


ORM. That will be our death.
THORFINN. Are you a man, Orm?
ORM. I've become a poet only.
THORFINN. Therefore you have become nothing.
ORM. I knew what I wanted, but I could not attain it. You could
attain anything, but did not know what you wanted.
THORFINN. Thanks for your song. Farewell.
ORM. Who will sing your death song?
THORFINN. The ravens no doubt.
ORM. Do you dare to die, Thorfinn?
THORFINN. I dare more! I dare to be forgotten!
ORM. You were always stronger than I. Farewell. We'll meet again.
[Orm goes out.]
THORFINN. Alone! Alone! Alone! [Pause.] I remember one autumn when
the equinoctial storm raged over England's sun my dragon ship was
wrecked and I was tossd up on the rocks alone. Afterward everything
grew calm. Oh, what long days and nights! Only the cloudless sky
above and endlessly the deep blue sea around me. Not a sound of any
living creature! Not even the gulls to wake me with their
screeching! Not even a breeze stirred the waves to lap against the
stones. It seemed as if I myself were dead! Loudly I talked and
shouted, but the sound of my voice frightened me, and thirst bound
my tongue. Only the even beat of my heart in my breast told me that
I was alive! But after a moment's listening I heard it no longer
and, trembling, I rose to my feet, and so it was each time until,
senseless, I swooned. When at last I revived I heard the slow beats
of a heart beside me and a deep breathing that was not mine, and
courage revived in my soul.


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