know what I shall do! I won't be a
mark for the jeers of this wretched little town, nor triumphed over by
those who have envied me all round the countryside!

Berent. What will you do, then?

Tjaelde. You shall see! (Speaking more and more excitedly.) You won't
help me under any conditions?

Berent. No.

Tjaelde. You insist that I shall surrender my estate, here and now?

Berent. Yes.

Tjaelde. Hell and damnation! You dare do that?

Berent. Yes.

Tjaelde (his agitation robbing him of his voice, which all at once sinks
to a hoarse whisper). You have never known what despair is!--You don't
know what an existence I have endured!-But if the decisive moment has
come, and I have a man here in my office who _ought_ to save me but will
not, then that man shall share what is in store for me.

Berent (leaning back in his chair). This is beginning to be impressive.

Tjaelde. No more jesting; you might regret it! (Goes to all the doors
and locks them with a key which he takes out of his pocket; then unlocks
his desk, and takes a revolver out of it.) How long do you suppose I
have had this in here?

Berent. Since you bought it, I suppose.

Tjaelde. And why do you suppose I bought it?--Do you suppose that after
I have been master of this town and the biggest man in the district, I
would endure the disgrace of bankruptcy?

Berent. You have been enduring it for a long time.

Tjaelde. It is in your power now either to ruin me or to wave me. You
have behaved in such a way that you deserve no mercy--and you shall have
none! Report to the banks that they may give me the use of L14,000 for
a year--I need no more than that--and I will save the situation for good
and all. Think seriously, now! Remember my family, remember how long my
firm has been established, remember the numbers that would be ruined if
I were! And do not forget to think of your own family! Because, if you
_don't_ agree to what I ask, neither of us shall leave this room alive!

Berent (pointing to the revolver). Is it loaded?

Tjaelde (putting his finger on the trigger). You will find that out in
good time. You must answer me now!

Berent. I have a suggestion to make. Shoot yourself first and me
afterwards.

Tjaelde (going up to him and holding the revolver to his head). I will
soon quiet your pretty wit.

Berent (getting up, and taking out of his pocket a paper which he
unfolds). This is a formal surrender of your estate to the Receiver
in Bankrupt