Gertrud

A PORTRAIT FROM THE TURN OF THE CENTURY

Gertrud.

Gertrud.

Ah, you're home.

I'm just going.

Are you going to a meeting this evening?

Yes, a committee meeting.

I'll probably go to the opera and sit in my usual corner.

- What's on? - Fidelio.

Come.

Let's have a talk.

- I've got something to tell you. - Hmm?

- By the way, did Mother call? - No.

Well, she has to collect her money.

Is that what you wanted to tell me?

No.

Come. Sit down.

Tell me, Gertrud,

how would you like to become a minister's wife?

That depends on which minister you want me to marry.

Minister Kanning.

So, that's the news.

You'll become a minister?

Yes.

But you've never supported the government.

No, but they feel a little spice won't hurt.

And you're that little spice.

Coming home I met that new musical genius...

Erhard Jansson, isn't it?

Erland Jansson, if he's the one you mean.

Yes, Erland Jansson. Is he a genius?

So they say.

But what do you say? You know about music.

Know whom else I met?

No.

Gabriel Lidman.

I didn't mean to hurt you.

I know.

I asked him to call on us.

- Will he? - He said he would.

He's been away a long time.

- Well, two years. - Three.

Some letters - bills, I suppose.

Thanks.

Lidman's picture is in the paper.

May I see?

He looks his old self.

Yes, he hasn't changed much.

Did you tell him you would make the main speech?

He knew.

I'm looking forward to seeing him.

Why did you break with him?

Let's not talk about it.

No.

No, that part of your life is forgotten.

You've said it's over and I believe you.

I've considered your relationship with Lidman as none of my concern.

You were a free, independent woman.

You were an artist and a famous poet.

It was a different matter then.

Was it?

Of course.

What are you laughing at?

I'm only smiling.

I was thinking of all those poor people

who permit themselves love,

although they're neither artists nor famous.

Oh...

Have you noticed my brief-case anywhere?

Yes, it's in the hall.

Thanks.

How beautiful you are, Gertrud.

This mirror was a present from Gabriel Lidman,

so that when I awoke I'd be reflected in something beautiful.

- So he said. - I know.

Later, you gave me another mirror, less Rococo,

and now his mirror is here, in your room.

Let me kiss you, Gertrud.

It gets dark early now.

Then I'd better be going.

I seek your lips and you turn aside.

For over a month your door has been closed to me.

There was a time when I was welcome.

I often lie awake thinking of you.

I wonder if you love someone else, who it might be...

Damn! There's Mama.

Hello.

- Hello, Gustav. - Hello, Mama.

Oh, these stairs!

- Hello, dear Gertrud. - Mother-in-law.

Come.

- Do sit down. - Thanks.

You are late.

I fell asleep over a new book. I try to keep up with the times.

Which book was it?

- What was the name? I have forgotten. - Who wrote it?

I don't know, it was very strange.

About what?

I don't remember, but I can't fathom these modern authors.

- Some tea? - Thank you, dear, but I'd prefer port.

- With pleasure. - Thank you.

Dear Gertrud, she really is a good wife for you.

Yes, she is.

I tell everybody.

Do they ask?

Nobody asks, but people gossip, you know.

But there's been nothing to reproach her for since you've been married.

So far, at least.

And that old yarn about her and...

- Lidman. - Lidman, yes.

- Well, that was gossip, of course. - Of course.

Yes.

But to change the subject- people say you'll be a minister.

People say many things.

What's a minister's salary?

- One makes sacrifices. - Oh dear.

You'll regret that.

Think of your father, think of his sacrifices.

And what did he gain?

Huh? A couple of medals.

No, Gustav, stick to legal practice.

Forget about the country. That's my advice.

Little Mama, if I become a minister it will be for my own sake.

Gertrud will be invited to the court ball, won't she?

I doubt if she's bothered.

- Here you go. - Thank you.

- Here you go. - Thank you.

Yes.

Well, Gertrud, how do you like being a minister's wife?

I don't know. Nothing is settled yet.

The Prime Minister will telephone me at five.

But we mustn't forget your money.

Let me get them.

Can't you get her to go? I must talk to you.

Mama, I'm afraid Gertrud and I have to go out.

Yes, it's almost five, and I've got so much to do.

You haven't taken your money.

Thank you so much. Goodbye.

Goodbye, Mama.

- Goodbye, little Gertrud. - Goodbye Mother-in-law.

Well, what's on your mind?

Something I've wanted to say for a long time,

and now I can't put it off any longer.

This will hurt you.

Gustav, I won't become a minister's wife.

What do you mean?

I no longer wish to be your wife.

Gertrud, what do you mean?

Remember what you said when we were engaged?

That if, one day, one of us wished to be free,

then the other shouldn't prevent it.

Do you remember?

Yes, I remember.

I was rather hurt at the time.

I couldn't imagine anything but us together all our lives.

When I saw that you were fond of me,

I came to you and said I wanted to be yours.

And I would never have gone back on that day.

Now you want to leave me.

Gertrud, I don't understand at all.

Oh, Gustav.

There's so much that has changed.

We have changed ourselves.

I love you, Gertrud.

Love is such a big word.

There is so much you love.

You love power and honour.

You love yourself.

You love your wisdom, your books, your cigars.

And I don't doubt you've loved me, occasionally.

How can you say things like that?

Well...

Sometimes in the evening,

you just sit for hours, staring, without saying a word.

I'm thinking of things, I suppose.

- Things? - Yes.

My cases, my work.

Your work...

Yes. There we have it.

You think of your work only.

Do you think it's indifference?

It's worse than indifference.

It's lack of feeling.

A woman loves her husband above all else.

But work comes first for him.

Isn't that a law of nature?

Naturally, it's in the nature of the man to work, to create.

But work mustn't expel the woman from his thoughts.

I often feel as if I didn't really have a husband.

As if I were meaningless to you.

What more have you got to say against me?

That you, in a very humiliating way,

show me how little you care about me.

Do I exist for you at all?

You never guess my wishes or my thoughts.

Whether I am happy or sad makes no difference at all to you.

It seems that what you are blaming me for

is my devotion to my work.

The man I am to be with must be mine entirely.

I must have precedence.