Married. August Strindberg

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      “How stupid of people not to get married! Such selfishness! They ought to be taxed like dogs.”

      “I’m sorry for those poor men who haven’t the means to get married,” replied his demure little wife kindly, “for I am sure, if they had the means they would all get married.”

      A little pang shot through the assistant’s heart; for a moment he felt afraid, lest he had been a little too venturesome. All his happiness rested on the solution of a financial problem, and if, if.... Pooh! A glass of Burgundy! Now he would work! They should see!

      “Game? With cranberries and cucumbers!” The young wife was a little startled, but it was really delicious.

      “Lewis, darling,” she put a trembling little hand on his arm, “can we afford it?”

      Fortunately she said “we.”

      “Pooh! It doesn’t matter for once! Later on we can dine on potatoes and herrings.”

      “Can you eat potatoes and herrings?”

      “I should think so!”

      “When you have been drinking more than is good for you, and expect a beefsteak after the herring?”

      “Nonsense! Nothing of the kind! Your health, sweetheart! The game is excellent! So are these artichokes!”

      “No, but you are mad, darling! Artichokes at this time of the year! What a bill you will have to pay!”

      “Bill! Aren’t they good? Don’t you think that it is glorious to be alive? Oh! It’s splendid, splendid!”

      At six o’clock in the afternoon a carriage drove up to the front door. The young wife would have been angry if it had not been so pleasant to loll luxuriously on the soft cushions, while they were being slowly driven to the Deer Park.

      “It’s just like lying on a couch,” whispered Lewis.

      She playfully hit his fingers with her sunshade. Mutual acquaintances bowed to them from the footpath. Friends waved their hands to him as if they were saying:

      “Hallo! you rascal, you have come into a fortune!”

      How small the passers-by looked, how smooth the street was, how pleasant their ride on springs and cushions!

      Life should always be like that.

      It went on for a whole month. Balls, visits, dinners, theatres. Sometimes, of course, they remained at home. And at home it was more pleasant than anywhere else. How lovely, for instance, to carry off one’s wife from her parents’ house, after supper, without saying as much as “by your leave,” put her into a closed carriage, slam the door, nod to her people and say: “Now we’re off home, to our own four walls! And there we’ll do exactly what we like!”

      And then to have a little supper at home and sit over it, talking and gossiping until the small hours of the morning.

      Lewis was always very sensible at home, at least in theory. One day his wife put him to the test by giving him salt salmon, potatoes boiled in milk and oatmeal soup for dinner. Oh! how he enjoyed it! He was sick of elaborate menus.

      On the following Friday, when she again suggested salt salmon for dinner, Lewis came home, carrying two ptarmigans! He called to her from the threshold:

      “Just imagine, Lou, a most extraordinary thing happened! A most extraordinary thing!”

      “Well, what is it?”

      “You’ll hardly believe me when I tell you that I bought a brace of ptarmigans, bought them myself at the market for—guess!”

      His little wife seemed more annoyed than curious.

      “Just think! One crown the two!”

      “I have bought ptarmigans at eightpence the brace; but—” she added in a more conciliatory tone, so as not to upset him altogether, “that was in a very cold winter.”

      “Well, but you must admit that I bought them very cheaply.”

      Was there anything she would not admit in order to see him happy?

      She had ordered boiled groats for dinner, as an experiment. But after Lewis had eaten a ptarmigan, he regretted that he could not eat as much of the groats as he would have liked, in order to show her that he was really very fond of groats. He liked groats very much indeed—milk did not agree with him after his attack of ague. He couldn’t take milk, but groats he would like to see on his table every evening, every blessed evening of his life, if only she wouldn’t be angry with him.

      And groats never again appeared on his table.

      When they had been married for six weeks, the young wife fell ill. She suffered from headaches and sickness. It could not be anything serious, just a little cold. But this sickness? Had she eaten anything which had disagreed with her? Hadn’t all the copper vessels new coatings of tin? He sent for the doctor. The doctor smiled and said it was all right.

      “What was all right? Oh! Nonsense! It wasn’t possible. How could it have been possible? No, surely, the bed-room paper was to blame. It must contain arsenic. Let us send a piece to the chemist’s at once and have it tested.”

      “Entirely free from arsenic,” reported the chemist.

      “How strange! No arsenic in the wall papers?”

      The young wife was still ill. He consulted a medical book and whispered a question in her ear. “There now! a hot bath!”

      Four weeks later the midwife declared that everything was “as it should be.”

      “As it should be? Well, of course! Only it was somewhat premature!”

      But as it could not, be helped, they were delighted. Fancy, a baby! They would be papa and mama! What should they call him? For, of course, it would be a boy. No doubt, it would. But now she had a serious conversation with her husband! There had been no translating or proof-correcting since their marriage. And his salary alone was not sufficient.

      “Yes, they had given no thought to the morrow. But, dear me, one was young only once! Now, however, there would be a change.”

      On the following morning the assistant called on an old schoolfriend, a registrar, to ask him to stand security for a loan.

      “You see, my dear fellow, when one is about to become a father, one has to consider how to meet increasing expenses.”

      “Quite so, old man,” answered the registrar, “therefore I have been unable to get married. But you are fortunate in having the means.”

      The assistant hesitated to make his request. How could he have the audacity to ask this poor bachelor to help him to provide the expenses for the coming event? This bachelor, who had not the means to found a family of his own? He could not bring himself to do it.

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