r excursions put together.
(To KROLL.) May I venture to ask you, Professor--unter uns--are there
in your esteemed town any fairly decent, respectable and spacious
assembly-rooms?

Kroll. The most spacious is the hall belonging to the Working Men's
Association.

Brendel. May I ask, sir, if you have any special influence with that no
doubt most useful Association?

Kroll. I have nothing whatever to do with it.

Rebecca (to BRENDEL). You ought to apply to Peter Mortensgaard.

Brendel. Pardon, madame--what sort of an idiot is he?

Rosmer. Why do you make up your mind he is an idiot?

Brendel. Do you suppose I can't tell, from the sound of the name, that
it belongs to a plebeian?

Kroll. I did not expect that answer.

Brendel. But I will conquer my prejudices. There is nothing else for
it. When a man stands at a turning-point in his life--as I do--. That
is settled. I shall, put myself into communication with this
person--commence direct negotiations.

Rosmer. Are you in earnest when you say you are standing at a
turning-point in your life?

Brendel. Does my own boy not know that wherever Ulrik Brendel stands he
is always in earnest about it? Look here, I mean to become a new man
now--to emerge from the cloak of reserve in which I have hitherto
shrouded myself.

Rosmer. In what way?

Brendel. I mean to take an active part in life--to step forward--to
look higher. The atmosphere we breathe is heavy with storms. I want now
to offer my mite upon the altar of emancipation.

Kroll. You too?

Brendel (to them all). Has your public here any intimate acquaintance
with my scattered writings?

Kroll. No, I must candidly confess that--

Rebecca. I have read several of them. My foster-father had them.

Brendel. My dear lady, then you have wasted your time. They are simply
trash, allow me to tell you.

Rebecca. Really?

Brendel. Those you have read, yes. My really important works no man or
woman knows anything about. No one--except myself.

Rebecca. How is that?

Brendel. Because they are not yet written.

Rosmer. But, my dear Mr. Brendel--

Brendel. You know, my dear John, that I am a bit of a sybarite--a
gourmet. I have always been so. I have a taste for solitary enjoyment,
because in that way my enjoyment is twice--ten times--as keen. It is,
like this. When I have been wrapped in a haze of golden dreams that
have descended on me--when new, intoxicating, momentous thoughts have
had their birth in my mi