The Rattrap – Selma Lagerlof (/logerluv/)

Script

Characters

1. The vagabond
2. Old crofter
3. The ironmaster
4. Valet??
5. Edla
6. Narrator ig

Narrator: Once upon a time in the land of Sweden, a vagabond went around selling small rattraps made
of wire. He made them himself, from materials he got by begging at stores or farms. But business wasn’t
going well, so he was compelled to beg and steal to stay alive. Still, his clothes were rags, his cheeks
were sunken, and he was forever hungry.

Narrator: He lived a sad and monotonous life, walking down the road, rarely getting the chance to sell
his rattraps. But one day he got a brilliant thought in his head: that the world around him, was just a big
rattrap; and the happiness, shelter, food and heat were all baits for the trap. As soon as anyone got
tempted to touch the bait, he would get caught and everything was over.

Narrator: The world had never been nice to him, so he entertained this idea, and it gave him immense
joy to think it in this way, that he had never got caught but other people did or were about to.

Narrator: One cold evening, he was plodding along the road when he came across a little gray cottage.

Vagabond: (knocks on the door) Hello?

Old crofter: (opens the door) Hello, hello friend! What is the matter?

Vagabond: Ah well, I was just wondering if I could take shelter here for the night.

Old crofter: Of course, of course, it’s a pleasure. Come in, come in.

Narrator: The peddler was surprised, usually people did not like it when he came to their houses looking
for shelter. The old man had no wife nor child, so he was very happy to get rid of his loneliness for a
while.

Old crofter: Wait, let me go heat the porridge. (heats it and brings it to him) (then he cuts a tobacco roll
and gives one piece to the vagabond. Then he brings out a pack of cards)

Old crofter: Let’s play mjolis (/myolis/), friend.

(They play a few rounds)

Old crofter: You know, when I was younger, I worked as a crofter at Ramsjo (/ramhue/) Ironworks and I
worked on the land. Alas, now I’m old and weak and weak and I can’t do day labor. My cow, my lovely, is
doing all the work. She can give milk for the creamery every day and last month I just received all of my
thirty kronor!

Vagabond: (Disbelieving) Really?

Old crofter: Wait I’ll show you, (goes to the door and gets a leather pouch. Brings out 3 wrinkled papers)
see? (Nods and puts them back it)

(They both go back bed)

Narrator: They woke up the next morning feeling great. The crofter went in a hurry to milk his cow, and
the vagabond thought he shouldn’t stay asleep if the owner of the house had gotten up. So, they both
left the cottage at the same time. (crofter locks his door and puts key in pocket)

Vagabond: Goodbye, and thank you for letting me stay.

Crofter: It was my pleasure, friend. (both leave)

Narrator: But half an hour later, the vagabond was back, and this time it was not to ask for shelter.

Vagabond: (looks around the door, finds the pouch, and takes the money inside) Sorry (puts the pouch
back)

Narrator: He walked away, satisfied and pleased at his smartness. He didn’t dare to walk on the public
road, of course. So he went onto the woods. It was okay in the beginning, but the woods are the woods.
It was big and confusing and he didn’t know where he was going, since the path was twisting back and
forth. Eventually, he realized that he was just walking in circles.

Narrator: He suddenly thought about the world being a rattrap and admitted in shame that he was a fool
himself, because he walked right into the rattrap and got himself caught. The forest felt like a prison.

Narrator: As evening descended, danger increased, and so did his despair. He saw no way out and sank
to the ground, but then he heard it. (thumping sounds)

Vagabond: That’s the sound of hammer strokes. An iron mill! There must be people nearby. (he gets up)

Narrator: The Ramsjo (/ramhue/) Ironworks back then were a large plant with smelter, rolling mill and
forge. The summer time heavily loaded barges and scows slid down the canal into the lake, and in the
winter, the roads near the mill were black from all the coal dust from the charcoal crates. The Ironworks
are closed now, but of course this tale happened in the past.

Narrator: In one of the long dark evenings before Christmas the mastersmith and his helper sat near the
dark furnace, smelting. Every now and then, one of them would get up and stir the glowing pig iron,
then return with sweat. But it was custom they wore nothing but a long shirt and wooden shoes. (noise)
Narrator: Since there was so much noise, they didn’t see the vagabond enter the forge, until he stood
close to the furnace.

Narrator: But it was nothing unusual. People like the rattrap seller were attracted by the light and
warmth of the forge. The blacksmiths glanced indifferently at him. He looked exactly as a vagabond
would look like. He asked for permission to stay, and the mastersmith consented haughtily.

Narrator: Then the iron master, the owner of the iron mill, came for inspection.

Ironmaster: Hmm? (Peers into his face) Oh my god! It’s you, Nils Olof! How do u look! Where have u
been, old friend?

Narrator: The peddler had never seen this man before. But he was scheming. Opportunities come by,
and he was not one to refuse them.

Vagabond: Uhh, ah, yes. T-That’s me. God knows how things went downhill with me.

Ironmaster: You should have not resigned from the regiment, Nils Olof. That was the mistake. Ah, if only
I had still been in the service then, this wouldn’t have happened. Well, come with me to my home then.

Vagabond: (alarmed) What? No, of course, I couldn’t think of it.

Narrator: Of course, the vagabond thought of his stolen thirty kronor. He wanted to sleep in the forge
and then leave as inconspicuously as possible. On the other hand, the ironmaster thought he was
embarrassed by his clothing.

Ironmaster: Come now, please don’t think I have such a fine house that you can’t come in. I sure you
know but Elizabeth is dead, and my boys are abroad. It’s just me and my oldest daughter. We were just
thinking about how bad it would be having no company for Christmas, so come along with me.

Vagabond: No please, I can’t.

Ironmaster: Please, Nils Olof. Come.

Vagabond: No. I will not.

Ironmaster: (sighs) It’s looks as though Captain von Stahle (/stahley/) prefers to stay with you tonight,
Stjernstrom (/styenstrom/). (laughs while walking away)

Narrator: But not more than half an hour later, a carriage arrived, and the ironmaster’s oldest daughter
came in, sent by the ironmaster in the hope that her persuasion skills are better. She was not pretty, but
modest and quite shy. The young girl went up to him. (valet follows her holding a blazer)

Edla: (touches him) (vagabond jumps) My name is Edla Willmansson. My father told me you wanted to
sleep here in the forge tonight, but I asked permission to bring you home. I’m sorry, captain, that you’re
having a hard time.
Narrator: Edla noticed the man was afraid, so she came to the conclusion that he either stole something
or escaped from jail.

Edla: Captain, you will be allowed to leave as freely as you came. Please stay with us, at least over
Christmas Eve.

Vagabond: I-I didn’t think you would bother with me yourself, miss. I’ll will come at once. (takes the coat
from valet)

Narrator: The vagabond now regretted taking the old crofter’s money. He was sitting in the rattrap and
will never get out of it.

Narrator: The next day was Christmas Eve, and the ironmaster came down for breakfast thinking about
his old regimental comrade whom he came across so unexpectedly.

Ironmaster: First of all, he must be fed, there’s hardly any flesh in him. And then give him another
proper job, not that rattrap business.

Edla: Hmm, it’s strange how thing have gone so downhill with him. Last night, I didn’t see anything in
him that showed he was an educated man.

Ironmaster: Patience, my little girl. After he’s cleaned up, you will see it. Last night he was naturally
embarrassed. The tramp manners will fall off with the tramp clothes.

Narrator: When the tramp entered, bathed and well-dressed in a suit which belonged to the ironmaster.
He had his hair cut and clean shaven by the valet. And now, it was clear as day that this was not Captain
von Stahle (/stahley/). The ironmaster knew he had made a mistake.

Ironmaster: (angrily) What is this?

Vagabond: It is not my fault sir, I didn’t pretend to be anything but a poor trader, and I did beg you to let
me stay in the forge. But it’s okay. I can just put on my rags and leave.

Ironmaster: Well, it wasn’t honest, you should admit it. Maybe I’ll call the sheriff.

Vagabond: (slams hand on table) Look here, Mr. Ironmaster, this is how things are. The world is but a
rattrap and all good things offered to you are but baits, to trap a poor fellow. The sheriff comes and
locks me up, then you must remember that one day you will be tempted by a bait and will get caught in
its trap.

Ironmaster: (laughing) Well said, good fellow. Perhaps the sheriff shall be undisturbed today. But you
leave this place as fast as possible. (Vagabond opens the door)

Edla: Well, I think he ought to stay today. I don’t want him to go (goes to the door and closes it)

Ironmaster: What are you doing?

Edla: Oh well (embarrassed) I was thinking about the stranger here. He walks all year long and there’s
not a single place he can call home. He is always being chased away. Always afraid of being arrested and
cross examined. I would like him to enjoy just a day of peace with us. Just one.

Edla: It was a mistake, yes, but we shouldn’t chase away a person we asked to come here and to whom
we promised Christmas cheer.

Ironmaster: Always the preacher, you preach worse than a parson. (sighs) I just hope you won’t regret
this.

Edla:(takes vagabonds hands) Come and eat.

Narrator: The rattrap seller did not speak a word. He only sat down and ate. He kept looking at Edla.
Why did she do this? Why had she helped him?

Narrator: Christmas Eve passed just as always. The vagabond did nothing but sleep. He laid on the sofa
in one of the guest rooms and slept at one stretch. It seemed like it was the first real sleep he had
gotten, safe, secure and quiet.

Narrator: In the evening he was woken up again to see the lighted Christmas tree, and then he
disappeared again. Three hours later he was woken up to eat the Christmas fish and porridge.

(Everyone gets up after eating. Vagabond goes to each one of them)

Vagabond: Thank you. And good night. (to ironmaster first, then to Edla)

Edla: The suit you’re wearing, it’s Father’s Christmas present to you. You don’t have to return it. Oh, and
if you want to spend next Christmas Eve in a place where you’re sure you’ll be safe, you can come here.

Narrator: The vagabond didn’t say anything, just stared at Edla in amazement and awe.

Narrator: The next morning, the ironmaster and his daughter got up in good spirits and went to the early
Christmas service. The stranger was still sleeping, so they let him be. But then when they returned at 10
O’ clock, their good spirits had left them. Edla held her head down dejectedly. At church, they’d learned
that an old crofter had been robbed by a man selling rattraps.

Ironmaster: (sarcastically) Yes, that was a fine fellow you let into this house. I do wonder how many of
our things have disappeared by now.

(they leave the wagon)

Ironmaster: Is the stranger still there? He’s a thief, did you know that?

Valet: Oh my god, really? The man isn’t here, he left but he didn’t take anything with him. In fact, he left
a Christmas present for Miss Willmansson.

Edla: Oh! (opens the package and smiles) Oh my. (reads the letter)
[“Honoured and noble Miss, since you have been so nice to me all day long, as if I was a captain, I want
to be nice to you, in return, as if I was a real captain — for I do not want you to be embarrassed at this
Christmas season by a thief; but you can give back the money to the old man on the roadside, who has
the money pouch hanging on the window frame as a bait for poor wanderers. The rattrap is a Christmas
present from a rat who would have been caught in this world’s rattrap if he had not been raised to
captain, because in that way he got power to clear himself. Written with friendship and high regard,
Captain von Stahle.”]

The end