An Enemy of the People
Billing. Good Lord, of course he has! And some of it must come to the
Stockmanns. Most probably he will do something for the children, at all
events.
Hovstad (turning half round). Are you counting on that?
Billing. Counting on it? Of course I am not counting on anything.
Hovstad. That is right. And I should not count on the secretaryship to
the Bench either, if I were you; for I can assure you—you won't get it.
Billing. Do you think I am not quite aware of that? My object is
precisely not to get it. A slight of that kind stimulates a man's
fighting power—it is like getting a supply of fresh bile—and I am
sure one needs that badly enough in a hole-and-corner place like this,
where it is so seldom anything happens to stir one up.
Hovstad (writing). Quite so, quite so.
Billing. Ah, I shall be heard of yet!—Now I shall go and write the
appeal to the Householders' Association. (Goes into the room on the
right.)
Hovstad (sitting al his desk, biting his penholder, says slowly).
Hm!—that's it, is it. (A knock is heard.) Come in! (PETRA comes in by
the outer door. HOVSTAD gets up.) What, you!—here?
Petra. Yes, you must forgive me—
Hovstad (pulling a chair forward). Won't you sit down?
Petra. No, thank you; I must go again in a moment.
Hovstad. Have you come with a message from your father, by any chance?
Petra. No, I have come on my own account. (Takes a book out of her coat
pocket.) Here is the English story.
Hovstad. Why have you brought it back?
Petra. Because I am not going to translate it.
Hovstad. But you promised me faithfully.
Petra. Yes, but then I had not read it, I don't suppose you have read
it either?
Hovstad. No, you know quite well I don't understand English; but—
Petra. Quite so. That is why I wanted to tell you that you must find
something else. (Lays the book on the table.) You can't use this for
the "People's Messenger."
Hovstad. Why not?
Petra. Because it conflicts with all your opinions.
Hovstad. Oh, for that matter—
Petra. You don't understand me. The burden of this story is that there
is a supernatural power that looks after the so-called good people in
this world and makes everything happen for the best in their
case—while all the so-called bad people are punished.
Hovstad. Well, but that is all right. That is just what our readers
want.
Petra. And are you going to be the one to give it to them? For myself,
I do not believe a word of it. You know quite well that things do not
happen so in reality.
Hovstad. You are perfectly right; but an editor cannot always act as he
would prefer. He is often obliged to bow to the wishes of the public in
unimportant matters. Politics are the most important thing in life—for
a newspaper, anyway; and if I want to carry my public with me on the
path that leads to liberty and progress, I must not frighten them away.
If they find a moral tale of this sort in the serial at the bottom of
the page, they will be all the more ready to read what is printed above
it; they feel more secure, as it were.
Petra. For shame! You would never go and set a snare like that for your
readers; you are not a spider!
Hovstad (smiling). Thank you for having such a good opinion of me. No;
as a matter of fact that is Billing's idea and not mine.
Petra. Billing's!
Hovstad. Yes; anyway, he propounded that theory here one day. And it is
Billing who is so anxious to have that story in the paper; I don't know
anything about the book.
Petra. But how can Billing, with his emancipated views—
Hovstad. Oh, Billing is a many-sided man. He is applying for the post
of secretary to the Bench, too, I hear.
Petra. I don't believe it, Mr. Hovstad. How could he possibly bring
himself to do such a thing?
Hovstad. Ah, you must ask him that.
Petra. I should never have thought it of him.
Hovstad (looking more closely at her). No? Does it really surprise you
so much?
Petra. Yes. Or perhaps not altogether. Really, I don't quite know
Hovstad. We journalists are not much worth, Miss Stockmann.
Petra. Do you really mean that?
Hovstad. I think so sometimes.
Petra. Yes, in the ordinary affairs of everyday life, perhaps; I can
understand that. But now, when you have taken a weighty matter in hand—
Hovstad. This matter of your father's, you mean?
Petra. Exactly. It seems to me that now you must feel you are a man
worth more than most.
Hovstad. Yes, today I do feel something of that sort.
Petra. Of course you do, don't you? It is a splendid vocation you have
chosen—to smooth the way for the march of unappreciated truths, and
new and courageous lines of thought. If it were nothing more than
because you stand fearlessly in the open and take up the cause of an
injured man—
Hovstad. Especially when that injured man is—ahem!—I don't rightly
know how to—
Petra. When that man is so upright and so honest, you mean?
Hovstad (more gently). Especially when he is your father I meant.
Petra (suddenly checked). That?
Hovstad. Yes, Petra—Miss Petra.
Petra. Is it that, that is first and foremost with you? Not the matter
itself? Not the truth?—not my father's big generous heart?
Hovstad. Certainly—of course—that too.
Petra. No, thank you; you have betrayed yourself, Mr. Hovstad, and now
I shall never trust you again in anything.
Hovstad. Can you really take it so amiss in me that it is mostly for
your sake—?
Petra. What I am angry with you for, is for not having been honest with
my father. You talked to him as if the truth and the good of the
community were what lay nearest to your heart. You have made fools of
both my father and me. You are not the man you made yourself out to be.
And that I shall never forgive you-never!
Hovstad. You ought not to speak so bitterly, Miss Petra—least of all
now.
Petra. Why not now, especially?
Hovstad. Because your father cannot do without my help.
Petra (looking him up and down). Are you that sort of man too? For
shame!
Hovstad. No, no, I am not. This came upon me so unexpectedly—you must
believe that.
Petra. I know what to believe. Goodbye.
Aslaksen (coming from the printing room, hurriedly and with an air of
mystery). Damnation, Hovstad!—(Sees PETRA.) Oh, this is awkward—
Petra. There is the book; you must give it to some one else. (Goes
towards the door.)
Hovstad (following her). But, Miss Stockmann—
Petra. Goodbye. (Goes out.)
Aslaksen. I say—Mr. Hovstad—
Hovstad. Well well!—what is it?
Aslaksen. The Mayor is outside in the printing room.
Hovstad. The Mayor, did you say?
Aslaksen. Yes he wants to speak to you. He came in by the back
door—didn't want to be seen, you understand.
Hovstad. What can he want? Wait a bit—I will go myself. (Goes to the
door of the printing room, opens it, bows and invites PETER STOCKMANN
in.) Just see, Aslaksen, that no one—
Aslaksen. Quite so. (Goes into the printing-room.)
Peter Stockmann. You did not expect to see me here, Mr. Hovstad?
Hovstad. No, I confess I did not.
Peter Stockmann (looking round). You are very snug in here—very nice
indeed.
Hovstad. Oh—
Peter Stockmann. And here I come, without any notice, to take up your
time!
Hovstad. By all means, Mr. Mayor. I am at your service. But let me
relieve you of your—(takes STOCKMANN's hat and stick and puts them on
a chair). Won't you sit down?
Peter Stockmann (sitting down by the table). Thank you. (HOVSTAD sits
down.) I have had an extremely annoying experience to-day, Mr. Hovstad.
Hovstad. Really? Ah well, I expect with all the various business you
have to attend to—
Peter Stockmann. The Medical Officer of the Baths is responsible for
what happened today.
Hovstad. Indeed? The Doctor?
Peter Stockmann. He has addressed a kind of report to the Baths
Committee on the subject of certain supposed defects in the Baths.
Hovstad. Has he indeed?
Peter Stockmann. Yes—has he not told you? I thought he said—
Hovstad. Ah, yes—it is true he did mention something about—
Aslaksen (coming from the printing-room). I ought to have that copy.
Hovstad (angrily). Ahem!—there it is on the desk.
Aslaksen (taking it). Right.
Peter Stockmann. But look there—that is the thing I was speaking of!
Aslaksen. Yes, that is the Doctor's article, Mr. Mayor.
Hovstad. Oh, is THAT what you were speaking about?
Peter Stockmann. Yes, that is it. What do you think of it?
Hovstad. Oh, I am only a layman—and I have only taken a very cursory
glance at it.
Peter Stockmann. But you are going to print it?
Hovstad. I cannot very well refuse a distinguished man.
Aslaksen. I have nothing to do with editing the paper, Mr. Mayor—
Peter Stockmann. I understand.
Aslaksen. I merely print what is put into my hands.
Peter Stockmann. Quite so.
Aslaksen. And so I must— (moves off towards the printing-room).
Peter Stockmann. No, but wait a moment, Mr. Aslaksen. You will allow
me, Mr. Hovstad?
Hovstad. If you please, Mr. Mayor.
Peter Stockmann. You are a discreet and thoughtful man, Mr. Aslaksen.
Aslaksen. I am delighted to hear you think so, sir.
Peter Stockmann. And a man of very considerable influence.
Aslaksen. Chiefly among the small tradesmen, sir.
Peter Stockmann. The small tax-payers are the majority—here as
everywhere else.
Aslaksen. That is true.
Peter Stockmann. And I have no doubt you know the general trend of
opinion among them, don't you?
Aslaksen. Yes I think I may say I do, Mr. Mayor.
Peter Stockmann. Yes. Well, since there is such a praiseworthy spirit
of self-sacrifice among the less wealthy citizens of our town—
Aslaksen. What?
Hovstad. Self-sacrifice?
Peter Stockmann. It is pleasing evidence of a public-spirited feeling,
extremely pleasing evidence. I might almost say I hardly expected it.
But you have a closer knowledge of public opinion than I.
Aslaksen. But, Mr. Mayor—
Peter Stockmann. And indeed it is no small sacrifice that the town is
going to make.
Hovstad. The town?
Aslaksen. But I don't understand. Is it the Baths—?
Peter Stockmann. At a provisional estimate, the alterations that the
Medical Officer asserts to be desirable will cost somewhere about
twenty thousand pounds.
Aslaksen. That is a lot of money, but—
Peter Stockmann. Of course it will be necessary to raise a municipal
loan.
Hovstad (getting up). Surely you never mean that the town must pay—?
Aslaksen. Do you mean that it must come out of the municipal
funds?—out of the ill-filled pockets of the small tradesmen?
Peter Stockmann. Well, my dear Mr. Aslaksen, where else is the money to
come from?
Aslaksen. The gentlemen who own the Baths ought to provide that.
Peter Stockmann. The proprietors of the Baths are not in a position to
incur any further expense.
Aslaksen. Is that absolutely certain, Mr. Mayor?
Peter Stockmann. I have satisfied myself that it is so. If the town
wants these very extensive alterations, it will have to pay for them.
Aslaksen. But, damn it all—I beg your pardon—this is quite another
matter, Mr. Hovstad!
Hovstad. It is, indeed.
Peter Stockmann. The most fatal part of it is that we shall be obliged
to shut the Baths for a couple of years.
Hovstad. Shut them? Shut them altogether?
Aslaksen. For two years?
Peter Stockmann. Yes, the work will take as long as that—at least.
Aslaksen. I'm damned if we will stand that, Mr. Mayor! What are we
householders to live upon in the meantime?
Peter Stockmann. Unfortunately, that is an extremely difficult question
to answer, Mr. Aslaksen. But what would you have us do? Do you suppose
we shall have a single visitor in the town, if we go about proclaiming
that our water is polluted, that we are living over a plague spot, that
the entire town—
Aslaksen. And the whole thing is merely imagination?