P0CKETI55E^ ■ ^•- iT of cal: WS ANGELES LIBRARY MR. PUNCH'S POCKET fBSEN «j ■ — 1 I MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN ^ Collection of SOME OF THE MASTER'S BEST-KNOWN DRAMAS CONDENSED, REVISED, AND SLIGHTLY REARRANGED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE EARNEST STUDENT BY F. ANSTEY Author of " 'Vice Versa," " Voces Populi," etc. jXTctvi |9ork MACMILLAN AND CO. AND LONDON 1893 Alt risrhts reserved 1191U9 Copyright, 1893, P,Y MACMII.LAN AND CO. XovtoooD lOrfSS : J. 8. Cu»liiii« ik ('"■ — Hirwirk k Smith. Boaton, Mass., U.S.A. i T1R PREFATORY NOTE. The Concluding Piece, " Pill-doctor Herdal." is, as the observant reader will instantly perceive, rather a reverent attempt to tread in the footprints of the ,a Norwegian dramatist, than a version of any actually ^ '^ existing masterpiece. The author is conscious that his imitation is painfully lacking in the magnificently impenetrable obscurity of the original, that the vein of ^\ allegorical symbolism is thinner throughout than it ^ should be, and that the characters are not nearly as mad as persons invariably are in real life, — but these are the faults inevitable to a 'prentice hand, and he trusts that due allowances may be made for them by the critical. In conclusion, he wishes to express his acknowledg- ments to Messrs. Bradbury & Agnew for their permis- sion to reprint the present volume, the contents of which made their original appearance in the pages of " Punch." CONTENTS. PAGE No. I. ROSMERSHOLM -9 No. II. Nora; or, the Bird-Cage . -43 No. III. Hedua Gabler 89 No. IV. The Wild Dick/ I39 Pill-Doctor Herd.a.l . . . . . • 17^ No. I. ROSMERSHOLM 'Taking ofT his gloves meaningly." No. I. ROSMERSHOLM. ACT I. Sitting-room at Rosmersh'dlm, with a stove, flower- staiut, windows, ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything hatidsome about it. Re- becca West is sitting knitting a large antimacas- sar wliich is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods expectantly to some one outside. Madam Hel- SETH is laying the table for supper. Rebecca {folding up her work slo7C'ly) . But tell me precisely, what about this White Horse ? \^Smiling quietly. II 12 MK. /'CXCV/'S POCKET IBSEN. no. i. Madam Helseth. Lord forgive you, Miss ! — {fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table) — but you're making fun of me ! Rebecca {gravely) . No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmersholm, Mr. Rosnier would not understand it. {Sliiitting tvindoisj.) Ah, here is Rector Kroll. {Opening door.) You will stay to supper, will you not, Rec- tor, and 1 will tell them to give us some little extra dish. Kroll {hanging up his hat in the hall). Many thanks. ( IVipes his boots.) May I come in ? ( Conies in, puts doion his stick, sits down, and looks about him.) And how do you and Rosnior get on together, eh ? ACT I. ROSMERSHOLM. 13 Rebecca. Ever since your sister, Beata, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, we have been as happy as two little birds together. {After a pause, sitting down in arm-chair.) So you don't really mind my living here all alone with Rosmer ? We were afraid you might, perhaps. Kroll. Why, how on earth — on the contrary, I shouldn't object at all if you — {looks at her nieaning/y) h'm ! Rebecca {interrupting gravely) . For shame. Rector ; how can you make such jokes ! Kroll {as if surprised). Jokes? We do not joke in these parts — but here is Rosmer. 14 MK. PUNCirS POCKET IBSE/V. no. i. Enter RobMEK, i'<;V///i' . i. Rebfxca {to Mauam 1 1 ki.sk rn, who enters with dishes). No, Mr. Rosmcr will not have supper to-night. (/// a lii^hter tone.) Perhaps he is afraid of the nightmare. There are so many sorts of Wliite Horses in this world ! Madam Helseth {shaking). Lord! lord! that Miss West — the things she does say ! [K^\\v.cc\ goes out through t/oor, knitting antima- cassar thoughtfully, as Curtain falls. ACT II Rosmer's study. Doors and windotvs, bookshelves, a writi7ig-table. Doo?; with curtain, leading to Rosmer's bedroom. Rosmer discovered in a smoking'jacket cutting a pamphlet tenth a paper- knife. There is a knock at the door. Rosmer says, "Come in.'' Rebecca enters in a morning wrapper and curl-papers. She sits in a chair close to Rosmer, and looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves. Rector Kroll is shoiun up. Kroll {^lays his hat on the table and looks at Rebecca /rr'w head to foot). I am really afraid that I am in the way. Rebecca {surprised) . Because I am in my morning wrapper and curl- 19 20 MR. rU.\'C//\S POCKET IBSEN. w. i. papers? Vou forget that 1 am cmaiicipateii. Rector Kroll. \^She leaves them and listens behind curtain in Rosmer's bedroom. ROSMER. Yes, Miss West and I have worked our way forward in faithful comradeship. Kroll {shakes his head at him shmdy) . So I perceive. Miss West is naturally inclined to be forward. But, I say, really you know — However, I came to tell you that poor Heata was not so mad as she looketl, though flowers did bewilder her so. ( Takin:^ off his gloves meaningly.) She jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea that you ouglit to marry Miss Wesi ! RoSMER {Jumps half lip from his eh air). IP Marry — Miss West! my good gracious. ACT ii. kOSMERSHOLM. z\ KroU ! I don't understand, it is most incompre- hensible. (yLooks fixedly before him.) How can people — {looks at Jiiin for a mo me /if. t/ien rises) Will you get out? {Still quiet and self-restrained.) But first tell me why you never mentioned this before ? Kroll. Why ? Because I thought you were both ortho- dox, which made all the difference. Now I know- that you side with Laurits and Hilda, and mean to make the democracy into noblemen, and accord- ingly I intend to make it hot for you in my paper. Good morning ! \_He slams the door luith spite as Rebecca enters from bedroom. RosMER {as if surprised). You — in my bedroom ! You have been listen- ing, dear? But you are so emancipated. Ah, 22 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. no. i. well ! so our pure and beautiful frienilship has been misinterpreted, bespattered ! Just because you wear a morning wrapi)er, and have lived liere alone for a year, people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make unpleasant remarks ! l^ut what really did (\x\\t Beata mad? Why did she jump into the mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we coukl to spare her ! I made it the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all our interests — didn'f I, now? Rf,I!ECCA. \\)\\ did — but why brood o\er it? What docs it matter? (let on with your great, beautiful task, dear {ti/^proachiii;^ him cautiously from /ichiiid), winning over niinils and wills, and creating noble- men, you know — yVn//// noblemen ! RosMKR {iCHi/kiiii^ ai'oit/, rcs//css/y, as if in /hoi/i:;hi). Yes, I know. T liave never laughed in the whole ACT II. ROSMERSHOLM. 23 course of my life — we Rosmers don't — and so I felt that spreading gladness and light, and making the democracy joyful, was properly my mission. But /umi — I feel too upset to go on, Rebecca, unless — {Shakes /lis head heavily.) Yes, an idea has just occurred to me — {looks at her, and then runs his lianJs throngh his hair) — oh, my good- ness, no — I ean't. \_He kans his elbotvs on tabh\ Rebecca. Be a free man to the full, Rosmer — tell me your idea. Rosmer {gloomily) . I don't know what -you'll say to it. It's this. Our platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and happy. Now that I'm bothered and badgered, I feel — 7c>/iy, I can't exactly explain, but I t/o feel that I must oppose a new and living 24 Mh'. PUXC/I'S rOCk'F.T //iSEiV. No. I. reality to the gnawing memories of the past. I should, perhaps, ex[>l;un that this is ecpiivalent to an Ibsenian proposal. Rebecca {catches at the chairback 7oi/hjoy). How? at hist — a rise at last ! {Recollects her- self.^ r.ut what am I about? Am I not an eman- cipated enigma? {Puts her haiuh over her ears as if ill terror.) W'iiat are you saying? Vou mustn't. I can't think what yuu mean. Clo away, do! ROSMER {softly). I'e the new and living reahty. it is the only way to put Beata out of the Saga. Shall we try it? Rebecca. Never ! I )o not — (l(> not ask me wliy — for I haven't a notion — but never! {Nods slowly to ACT II. ROSMERSHOLM. 25 him and rises.) White Horses would not induce me! {]Vifh her hand on door-handle.) Now you knoiv! {She goes out. RosMER {sits up, stares thunderstruek at the stove, and says to himself) . \\'ell — 1 — am — [ Quich Curtain. ACT III. Sitting-room at Rosmersholin. Sun shining out- side in the Garden. Inside Rebkcca West is 7vatering a geraiiiuni with a snuill loatering- pot. Her crochet antimacassar lies in the arm- chair. Madam Hki-sivih is rubbing the chairs with furniture-polish fro>n a large bottle. Enter ROSMKR, with his hat and stick in his hand. Madam Helskiii c<>rks the bottle anil goes out to the right. Rebecca. Good mon1inc,^ dear. (.-/ moment after — cro- cheting.) Have you seen Rector Kroll's paper this morning? There's something ahowi you in it. 26 ACT 111. ROSMERSHOLM. ' 27 ROSMER, Oh, indeed? {Puts doivii liat and stick, and takes up paper.) H'ai ! {Reads — then 7c>a/ks atiout the room.) Kroll lias made it hot for me. {Reads some moie.) Oh, this is too bad ! Re- becca, they do say such nasty spiteful things ! They actually call me a renegade — and I can't think why ! They mustn't go on like this. All that is good in human nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent man like me ! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have been ! Rebecca. Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to attain — and I wish you may get it ! RoSMER. Thanks. I think I shall. {Happens to look 28 J//v. rC\\c7/'S I'OCKET IBSExt. no. i. //trough winiioic, and jumps.) Ah, iio, I shan't — never now. I have just seen — Rkwkcca. Not the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that White Horse ! ROSMER. No — the mill-race, where Beata — {^Puts on his haf — hikrs it off again.) I'm beginning to be haunted by — no, I ^/(^// 7 mean the horse — by a terrible suspicion that Heata may have been right after all ! Ves, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that 1 must really have been in love with you from the first. Tell mQ your opinion. Rebecca {strugg/iug with herself, ami still crocheting) . Oh — I can't exactly say — such an odd question to ask. me ! ACT. III. ROSMEKSJIOLM. 29 RosMER {shakes his head). Perhaps ; I have no sense of humour — no re- spectable Norwegian has — and I do want to know — because, you see, if I was in love with you, it was a sin, and if I once convinced myself of that — - \_lVaiiders across the room. Rebecca {breaking out) . Oh, these old ancestral prejudices ! Here is your hat, and your stick, too ; go and take a walk. [RosMER takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk ; presently Madam Helseth appears, and tells Rebecca something. Re- becca tells her something. They whisper together. Madam H. 7wds, and shows in Rector Kroll, who keeps his hat in his hand, and sits on a chair. 30 MR. I'UNCirS rOCKET IBSEN. no. i. Kroll, I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider you an artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering your birth anil moral antecedents, you know — {lunis at Jicr) — it is not surprising. (Rfchfx'CA walks about, icriih^;- iiii:; hci- Iiaih/s.) \Viiy, what is the matter? I )id you really not know that you had no right to your father's name? I'd no idea you would mind my mentioning such a trille ! Rebecca {/freaking <>i//) . 1 (/o mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain a few iiiilc prejudices still. I (/<>ii'/ like owning to my real age, ami I do prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information — of which I was ([uite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs, Gamvik, never oiiee alluded to it — I feel ACT III. KOSMERSHOLM. 31 I must confess everything. Strong-minded ad- vanced women are like that. Here is Rosmer. (RosMER enters with his hat ami stick.) Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. Let us sit down, dear, all three of us. {^They sit down, mechauicallx, on chairs.) A long time ago, before the play began — (/// a voice scarcely atidible) — in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow do happen before the play be- gins— Rosmer. But, Rebecca, I know all this. Kroll — {looks hard at her). Perhaps I had better go? Rebecca. No — I will be short — this was it. I wanted to take my share in the life of the New Era, and march onward with Rosmer. There was one dis- mal, insurmountable barrier — {to Rosmer, who 32 MR. ruxcirs pocket IBSEX. no. I. nods gravely) — Beata ! I understood where your deliverance lay — and I acted. / drove Beata into the mill-race. . . . There ! ROSMER {after a short si/t'iiie). H'm ! Well, Kroll — {takes /// /lis hat) — if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox once more — after tliis ! Kroll {severely a lul impressively, to Rki'.f.cca). A nice sort of young woman iv// are ! \_Botli go out hastily, without looking at Rebecca. Rebecca {speaks to herself, under her breath). Now, I hive done it. I wonder ivhy. {Pulls hell-rope.) Madam Ili-l>elh, 1 have just had a glimpse of two rushing \\'hile Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk. [flutter Madam 11., loith large hair-trunk, as Curtain Jails, ACT IV. Late evefiing. Rebecca West stands by a lighted lamp, with a shade over it, packing sandwiches, <5^c., ill a reticule, with a faint smile. The antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter Rosmer. RosMER {seeing the sandwiches, c^-v.). Sandwiches? Then you are going! Why, on earth, — I can' t understand ! Rebecca. Dear, you never can. Rosmershohii is too much for me. But liow did you get on with KroU? 33 34 ^fl^- PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. no. i. ROSMER. We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of ennobhng men was several sizes too large for me — so I am going to let it alone — Rebkcca {ivith her faint smile'). There I almost think, tlcar, that you arc wise. RoSMF.R {as if annoyed). What, so you don't believe in me either, Re- becca — you never diii .' \_Sits listlessly on ehair. Rebecca. Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself — l)ut I've another confession to make. RosMER. What, anoilirr / I really can't stand any more confessions just now ! ACT IV. ROSMERSHOLM. 35 Rebecca {sitting close to him') . It is only a little one. I bullied Beata into the mill-race — because of a wild uncontrollable — (RoSMER moves tineasily.) Sit still, dear — un- controllable fancy — for you ! RosMER {goes and sits on sofa) . Oh, my goodness, Rebecca — you mustn't, you know ! \^He jumps up and down as if embarrassed. Rebecca. Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve, — litde by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one 36 MK. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. no. i. of our Northern dips. The Rosmcr view of life is ennobling, very — but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you. RosMER {fiinn'ng it off). Isn't that enough for one evening? Rrbixca {a /most vo/crA'ss). No, dear. I have a Past — behind me ! RoSMER. Bc/i i n . " I have a Past — behind me ! " ACT IV. ROSMERSHOLM. 39 how I can't — believe entirely in you — I am not even sure that I have ennobled you so very much — isn't it terrible? Rebecca {tv/-inging her hands). Oh, this killing doubt ! i^Looks darkly at him.) Is there anything /can do to convince you? RosMER {as if impelled to speak against his 7oill) . Yes, one thing — only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now, unless — well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like Beata ! Rebecca {takes up her antimacassar, zvith com- posure, and puts it on her head) . Anything to oblige you. ll9l!)H 40 MR. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. no. i. RosMER {springs up) . What? \'ou really ivill .' Voii are sure you don't mind? Then, Rebecca, I will go further. I will even go — yes — as for as you go yourself ! Rkhecca {bo-iL's lie r head tinvarth his iueas/). Vou will see nie off? Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite. \_Smi/rs almost imperceptibly. RosMER {cautiously). I said as for as iw/ go. I don't commit ntyself further than that. Shall we go? Rebecca. First tell nic this. Are you going with me, or am /gcjing \\\\\\ you ? Rosmer. A subtle i)sychological jjoini — but we have not ACT IV, ROSMERSHOLM. 41 time to think it out here. We will discuss it as we go along. Come ! [RosMER takes his hat and stick, Rebecca Jier reticule, loifh sandwiches. They ^j;o out hand- in-hand /Iirough the dcnv, ivJiicJi tJiex leave open. The room (as is not uncommon %iut it off till another evening. We can't be expected to juini) off a footbridge which already has a White Horse on it. And, if it comes to that, why should we jump at all? 1 know now that I really have en- nobled you, which was all / wanted. What would be the good of recovering faith in my mission at the bottom of a null-pond? No, Rebecca — {/ays his hand on her luad) —there is no judge over us, and therefore — REnF.cc.\ ( /// terrupt'nig gravely) . We will bintl ourselves over in our own recog- nisances to come up for judgment when called upon. [.Madam IIelseth holds on to a chair-hack. Rebecca finishes the antimacassar calmly as cnrtain / ( politely) . l)nirt mention it. 1 called because I hajiiicncd to see your husband go out with .Mrs. Linden — from which, being a person of considerable pene- tration, I infer that he is al)out to give her my ACT I. NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE, 51 post at the Bank. Now, as you owe me the bal- ance of ^300, for which I hold your acknowledg- ment, you will see the propriety of putting a stop to this little game at once. Nora. But I don't at all — not a little wee bit ! I'm so childish, you know — why shoi/M I? \_Sitting upright on carpet Krogstad. I will try to make it plain to the meanest capac- ity. When you came to me for the loan, I natu- rally required some additional security. Your father, being a shady Government official, without a penny — for, if he had possessed one, he would, presumably, have left it to you — without a penny, then, I, as a cautious man of business, insisted 52 MR. PUXCirS POCKET IBSEN. no. ii. u[)on having his signature as a surety. Oh, we Norwegians are sharp fellows ! Nora. Well, you ^^/ Papa's signature, didn't you? Krogstad. Oh, I ,i,v'/ it right enough. Unfortunately, it was dated three days after his decease — now, how do you account for tliat? Nora. How? Why, as poor Papa was dead, and couldn't sign, I signed /'/• him, that's all ! Only somehow I forgot to ])ut the date back. That's how. Didn't I A// you I was a silly, unbusinesslike little thing? It's very simple. Krogstad. Very — but what you did amounts to forgery. ACT I. NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE. 53 notwithstanding. 1 happen to know, because I'm a lawyer, and have done a httle in the forging way myself. So, to come to the point — if /get kicked out, I shall not go alone ! [//a//aiii^ ahoiif). Do just see how pretty the Christmas-tree looks ! Helmer. Never mind the tree — I want to have this out about Krogstad. I can't take him back, because many years ago he forged a name. As a lawyer, a close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have remarked that people who forge names seldom or never confide the fut to their children — which inevitably brings moral contagion into the entire flimily. ["rum which it follows, logically, that Krogstad has been poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally lost. {S/>r/ihcs out his ha fids to ht-r.) I can't bear a morally lost IJank-cashier about me ! Nora. IJut you never thought of dismissing him till Christina came ! ACT I. NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE. 55 Helmer. H'm ! I've got some business to attend to — so good-bye, little lark ! [ Goes into office and shuts door. Nora {^pale with terror') . If Krogstad poisons his children because he once forged a name, I must be poisoning Emmy, and Bob, and Ivar, because / forged Papa's signature ! iyShort pause ; site raises her head p?-oud/y.) After all, if I am a doll, I can still draw a logical induc- tion ! I mustn't play with the children any more — (hot/v) — I don't care — I sha//, though ! Who cares for Krogstad? [She makes a face, choking 7vith suppressed tears, as Curtain fails. ^ ACT II. The Room, with the cheap Art-furnitinr as before — except that the candles on the Christmas-tree have guttered dimni and appear to have been lately bloicn out. The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are disarranged, and there are 7oalhing things on the sofa. Nora alone. Nora {putting on a cloak and taking it off again). Bother Krogstad 1 There, I won't think "of him. I'll only think of the costume ball at Consul Sten- borg's over-head, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all alone, dressed as a Capri fisher- girl. It struck Torvald that, as I am a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul's guests, and, at the same time, increase his 56 ACT II. NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE. 57 connection at the Bank. Torvald is so practical. i^To Mrs. Linden, who comes in with a large card- hoard I'ox.) Ah, Christina, so you have brought in my old costume? Would you mind, as my husband's new Cashier, just doing up the trimming for me? Mrs. Linden. Not at all — is it not part of my regular duties? {Se7ving.) Don't you think, Nora, that you see a little too much of Dr. Rank? Nora. Oh, I couldn't see too much of Dr. Rank 1 He is so amusing — always talking about his com- plaints, and heredity, and all sorts of indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear ; I hear Torvald. [Mrs. Linden goes. Enter Torvald from the Manager's room. Nora runs trippingly to him. 58 MA'. /'i'.VL7/\S POCKET f/iSE.V. no. ii. Nora {coaxinif). Oh, Torvald, if only you won't dismiss Krogstad, you can't think how your little lark would jump about and twitter ! Helmer. The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that, as it is, the little lark is generally engaged in that particular occupation. And I really i/iits/ get rid of Krogstad. If 1 didn't, people would say I was under the thumb of my little squirrel here, and then Krogstad and I knew each other in early youth ; and when two people knew each otiier in early youth — {a s/iorf pause) — h'm ! Besitles, he 7i'/// address me as, " I say, Torvald" — which causes me most painful emotion ! Me is tactless, dishonest, fiiniliar. ;iiid morallv ruined — altogether not at all the kind of j^erson to be a Cashier in a Uank like mine. ACT II. NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE. 59 Nora. But he writes in scurrilous papers, — he is on the staff of the Norwegian Punch. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about you, as wicked people did about poor dear Papa ! Helmer. Your poor dear Papa was not impeccable — far from it. I am — which makes all the difference. I have here a letter giving Krogstad the sack. One of the conveniences of living close to the Bank is, that I can use the housemaids as Bank- messengers. {Goes to door and calls.) Ellen! {Enfer parlourmaid.) Take that letter — there is no answer. {¥jIA.v.'S takes it and !^ocs.) That's settled — so now, Nora, as I am going to my private room, it will be a capital opportunity for 6o J/A'. /'L'XC7/'S POCKET IBSEN. no. ii. you to practise the tambourine — thump away, Uttle lark, the doors are double ! \_A\>(/s to her a)ui i::;ocs in, shiiftiiig door. NoR.\ {stroking Iter face) . How din I to get out of this mess ! {.i ring at the Visitors' MI.) Dr. Rank's ring! //. Nora {dancins^, with a long gay shawf). Just loond the little squirrel ! Faster — faster ! Oh, I do feel so gay ! We will have some cham- pagne for dinner, roon'twe, Torvald? \^Z)ani'^s witJi more and more abaiuhuiincnt. Helmer {after addressing fregi/e)it remarks ifi correction). Come, come — not this awful wildness ! I don't like to see quite such a larky little lark as this . . . Really it is time you stopped ! N0R.A. {her hair coming down as she dances more wildly still, and sivings the tamkourinc). I can't ... I can't ! {To herself as she 70 J//v'. PrXC//\S POCKET IBSEN. no. h. dances.) I've only thirty-one hours left to be a bird in ; and after that — {s/i//ii.\ yawns ; CiKORra', eomes hack and /'lares his old slippers reverently on the tahle.) Why, here comes Mrs. Elvsted — another early caller ! She had irritating hair, and went about niakint,' a sensation with it — an old flame of yours, I've heard. \_Enter Mrs. Ei.vsted ; she is pretty and i^^entle, ivith eopions ivavv white-gold hair and round prominent exes, and the manner of a frightened rabbit. Mrs. Elvstead {nemoi/s). Oh, i)leasc, I'm so perfectly in despair. I'ljlert Lovborg, you know, who was our Tutor ; he's written such a large new book. I inspired him. ACT I. HEDDA G ABLER. 97 Oh, I know I don't look like it — but I did — he told me so. And, good gracious, now he's in this dangerous wicked town all alone, and he's a re- formed character, and I'm so frightened about him ; so, as the wife of a Sheriff twenty years older than me, I came up to look after Mr. Lovborg. Do ask him here — then I can meet him. You will? How perfectly lovely of you ! My husband's so fond of him ! Hedda. George, go and write an invitation at once ; do you hear? (George looks around for his slippers, takes /hei/i up and goes outi) Now we can talk, my little Thea. Do you remember how I used to pull your hair when we met on the stairs, and say I would scorch it off? Seeing people with copious hair always does irritate me. 98 iJ/A'. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN, no. hi. Mrs. Elvsted, Goodness, yes, you were always so playful ami friendly, and I was so afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've riui away from my husband. Everything around him was distasteful to me. And Mr. Lovborg and 1 were comrades — he was dissipated, and I got a sort of power over him, and he made a real person out of me — which I wasn't before, you know ; but, oh, I do hope I'm real now. He talked to me and taught me to think — chiefly of him. So, when Mr. Lovborg came here, naturally I came too. There was nothing else to do 1 And fancy, there is another woman whose shadow still stands between him and me ! She wanted to shoot him onrc, and so, of course, he can never forget her. I wish 1 knew her name — perhaps it was that red-haired opera-singer? ACT I. HEDDA GABLER. 99 Hedda (z^vV// co/(/ self-command). Very likely — -but nobody does that sort of thing here. Hush ! Run away now. Here comes Tes- mr.n with Judge Brack. (Mrs. Elvsted goes oui ; George comes in with Judge Brack, who is a short and elastic gentleman, with a round face, care- fully brushed Jiair, and distinguished profile.) How awfully funny you do look by daylight, Judge ! Br.\ck {holding his hat and dropping his eye- glass) . Sincerest thanks. Still the same graceful man- ners, dear little Mrs. Hed — Tesman ! I came to invite dear Tesman to a little bachelor-party to celebrate his return from his long honeymoon. It is customary in Scandinavian society. It will be a lively affair, for I am a gay Norwegian dog. lOO MR. rvNcirs rocKi/r IBSEN. n... m. George. Asked out — without my wife ! Think of that ! Eh? Oil, clear me, yes, 7 11 come! Brack. By the way, Lovborg is here ; he has written a wonderful book, which has made a ([uile extraor- dinary sensation. Bless mc, yes ! George. Lovborg — fancy ! Well, I avi — glad. Such marvellous gifts ! And 1 was so painfully certain he had gone to the bad. Fancy that, eh ! B.ut what will become of him lunv, poor fellow, eh? I am so anxious to know ! Brack. Well, he may possibly put up for the Professor- ship against you, and, though you arc an uncom- ACT I. HEDDA G ABLER. loi monly clever man of letters — for a Norwegian — it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out ! George. * But, look here, good Lord, Judge Brack ! — {gesticulating) — that would show an incredible want of consideration for me ! I married on my chance of gcttiug that Professorship. A man like Lovborg, too, who hasn't even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that! Brack. Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons here, and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself! \_He goes out. George {to Heddci). Oh, I say, Hedda, what's to become of our I02 MK. J'iWCJrs POCKET IBSEN, no. mi. Fairyland now, ch? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner-parties, or have a horse for riding. Fancy that ! HF':r)i)A {slowly, and icearilv). No, we shall really have to set up as Fairies in reduced circumstances, now. Ci FORCE {c/urrini:; i/p). Still, we shall see Aunt Julie every day, and l/uit will be sonicthiuLC, and r\'e got back my old shippers. We shan't be altogether without some amusements, eh? Hedda (^crosses the Jloor). Not while I have oiw thing to amuse myself witii, at all events. ACT I. IJEDDA G ABLER. 103 George {l)eaming ivith joy) . Oh, Heaven be praised and thanked for that ! My goodness, so you have ! And what may tJiat be, Hedda, eh? Hedda ((?/ tlie doonuay, with suppressed seoni). Yes, George, you have the old sHppers of the attentive Aunt, and I have the horse-pistols of the deceased General ! George (/// an ai^v//y). The pistols ! Oh, my goodness ! za/iaf pistols ? Hedda (7C'if/i eold eyes). General Gabler's pistols — same which I shot — {recfll/eefing herself) — no, that's Thackeray, not Ibsen — a very different person. \_She goes throi/gh the baek Drawing-roo/n. 104 .1/A'. PUNCirS POCKET IBSF.X. no. iir. George {at tioonoay, shouting after her). Dearest Hedda, not those dangerous things, eh? Why, they have never once been known to shoot straight yet! Don't! Have a catapult. Vox my sake, have a catapult! \_Curtain. ACT II. Scene — The cheerful dark Drawing-room. It is afternoon. Hedda stands loading a revolver in the hack Dra^uing-roofn. Hedda {looking out, and shouting). How do you do, Judge ? {Aims at him.) Mind yourself ! \_She fires. Brack {entering). What the devil ! Do you usually take pot-shots at casual visitors? \_Annoyed. Hedda. Invariably, when they come by the back-garden. It is my unconventional way of intimating that I io6 MK. J'iWCJ/'S POCKET IBSEN, no. hi. am at home. One does do these things in realistic dramas, you know. And I was only aiming at the blue sky. Brack. Which accounts for the condition of my hat. ( Exhil)iti)ii; it. ) T .ook here — riihilcii ! Hkdda. Couldn't help myself. I am so horribly bored with Tesman. I'A'erlastingly to be with a jirofes- sioiial person ! l^RACK {^sympathetically) . Our excellent Tesman is certainly a bit of a bore. {Looks S(Ui/r/ti/ii^/y at lie r.) What on earlli made you marry him ? TIi:nr>\. Tired of dancing, my dear, that's all. \x\'\ then ACT II. HEDDA GABLEK. 107 I used Tesman to take me home from parties ; and we saw this villa ; and I said I liked it, and so did he ; and so we found some common ground, and here we are, do you see ! And I loathe Tes- man, and I don't even like the villa now ; and I do feel the want of an entertaining companion so ! Brack. Try me. Just the kind of three-cornered ar- rangement that I like. Let me be the third person in the compartment — {coiifidoitially) — the tried friend, and, generally speaking, cock of the walk ! Hedda {audibly drauniig in Jier hreatli). I cannot resist your polished way of putting things. We will conclude a triple alliance. But hush ! — here comes Tesman. \_Enter George, with a number of bo.oks under /lis ami. io8 MR. Pi:vCJ/\S POCKET IBSEN, no. iii. Georce. I'uff! I am hot, llcdila. I've Ijecn looking into I,()\l)or^'s new book. Wonderfully thoughtful — confound him! But 1 must go and dress for your party, Judge. \_JJf goes ouL Hedda. I wish I could get Tesman to take to politics, Judge. Couldn't he be a Cabinet Minister, or something? Brack. H'm ! \_A short pause ; hotli look at one another, 7vith- oiit speaking. Enter George, in evening dress, with gloves. George. It is afternoon, and your jiarty is at half-past seven — but I like to dress early. Fancy that! And I am expecting Lovborg. ACT 11. HEDDA GABLER. 109 [EjLERT LoVRORG comcs in from tJie hall ; he is zvorn and pale, 7c>ith red patches on his cheek- bones, and 7vears an elegant perfectly new visiting-suit, and black gloves. George. Welcome ! (Introduces him to Brack.) Listen — I have got your new book, but I haven't read it through yet. LOVBORG. You needn't — it's rubbish. {Takes a packet of MSS. out.) This isn't. It's in three parts; the first about the civihsing forces of the future, the second about the future of the civihsing forces, and the third about the forces of the future civil- isation. I thought I'd read you a little of it this evening ? no -l/A'. /'L:\'l7/'S pocket IBSEN, nu. mi. Brack ami George {Jiastily). Awfully nice of you — but there's a little party this evening — so sorry we can't stop ! Won't you come too? Hedda, No, he must stop and read it to me and Mrs. Elvsted instead. (il'.OKCE. It would never h;\ve occurred to me to think of such clever things ! Are you going to oppose me for the I'rofessorshii), eh? I .()\Bi )KG { ///('(/<■ jV/v) . No; I shall onh triumph over you in the popu- lar judgment — that's all ! CiKORGP:. Oh, is that all? Fancy! Let us go into the back, drawing-room and drink cold punch. ACT II. HEDDA G ABLER. iii LOVBORG. Thanks — but I am a reformed character, and have renounced cold punch — it is poison. [George and Brack go into the back-i-oom and drink punch, lohilst Hedda shows Lovborg a photograph album in the front. Lovborg (^shncly, in a hnv tone). Hedda Gabler ! how could you throw yourself away like this ! Oh, is tiiat the Ortler Group? Beautiful ! Have you forgotten how we used to sit on the settee together behind an illustrated paper, and — yes, very picturesque peaks 1 told you all about how I had been on the loose? Hedda. Now, none of that, here ! These are the Dolo- mites. — Yes, I remember; it was a beautiful fas- cinating Norwegian intimacy — but it's over now. 112 MR. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. NO. III. See, we spent a night in that little mountain village, Tesman and I ! LOVBORG. Did \o\\, indeed? Do you remember that de- licious moment when you threatened to shoot me down — {ti'iiiicr/y) — I do ! Hf.diu {cair/rssly'). Did 1 ? 1 have done that to so many people. But now all that is passed, and you have found the loveliest consolation in dear, good, little Mrs. Klv- sted— ah, here she is! {Enter Mrs. Elvsted.) Now, Thea, sit down and drink up a good glass of cold punch. Mr. Lovborg is going to have some. If you don't, Mr. Lovborg, George and tiie Judge will think you arc afraid of taking too much if you once begin. ACT II. HEDDA G ABLER, 113 Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, please, Hedda ! ^Vhen I've inspired Mr. Lovborg so — good gracious ! don't make him drink cold punch ! Hedda. You see, Mr. Lovborg, our dear little friend can't trust you ! Lovborg. So that is my comrade's faith in me ! {Gloom- ily.) /'ll show her if I am to be trusted or not. i^He drinks a glass of punch.) Now I'll go to the Judge's party. I'll have another glass first. Your health, Thea ! So you came up to spy on me, eh? I'll drink the Sheriff's health — everybody's health ! S^He tries to get more punch. 114 -^f^"^- Pi'^'C//\S POCKET IBSEN, no. hi. Hedda {stopping him). No more now. You are going to a party, re- member. [Geokcie (?//^/ Tesman come in Ovin back- too in. LOVBORG. Doii'l be angry, 'I'hca. 1 was fallen fi^r a mo- ment. Now I'm up again ! (Mrs. Elvsted beams ^ci/h t/r/ii;///.) Judge, I'll come to your party, as you are so pressing, and I'll read (ieorge . my manuscript all the evening. I'll do all in my power to make tlial party go ! George. No ? fancy ! that 7c>i// be amusing ! Hedda, There, go away, you wild rollicking creatures! ACT II. HEDDA G ABLER. "5 But Wx. Lovborg must be back at ten, to take dear Thea home ! Mrs. Elvstkd. Oh, goodness, yes ! (/;/ concealed a<;-(>//y.) Mr. Lovborg, I shan't go away till you do ! [_T//e tJiree men go out hitighiug i/ierri/v ; tlie Act-drop is hnvered foi- a miiiiite; ic/ieii it is raised, it is 7 a.m., a/id Mrs. Elvsted and Hedda are discovered sitting up, with rugs around them. Mrs. Elvsted {^vearily). Seven in the morning, and Mr. Lovborg not here to take me \\omt yet .' what can he be doing? Hedda {yaivning^. Reading to Tesman, with vine-leaves in his hair, I suppose. Perhaps he has got to the third part. ii6 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, no. in. Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, do you irally think so, Hedda? Oh, if I ctjulil but liupc he was doing that ! Hedda. You silly little ninny ! I should like to scorch your hair off. Go to bed ! [Mrs. Elvsted ^^ii^i/oiis/y) . Wliat an idea! 15ui I miglu — I am an insinu- ating dog. (iood morning ! \_Gocs out. Lovborg {/'i/rsfim:; in, confused and excited). I suppose you've heard where I've been ? ACT II. HEDDA G ABLER. 119 Hedda {evasively). I heard you had a very jolly party at Judge Brack's. [Mrs. Elvsted comes in. * LOVBORG. It's all over. I don't mean to do any more work. I've no use for a companion now, Thea. Go home to your Sheriff ! Mrs. Elvsted {agitated). Never ! I want to be with you when your book comes out ! LuVBORG. It won't come out — I've torn it up! (Mrs. Elvsted rushes out, 7vriiigi?ig her hands.) Mrs. Tesman, I told her a lie — but no matter. I haven't torn my book up — I've done worse ! I've taken it about to several parties, and it's been I20 MR. rr.vc/rs pocket ibsf.x. no. m. through a poUce-row with me — now I've lost it. Even if I found it again, it wouldn't he the same — not to mo ! I am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar. So I must make an end of it alto- gether ! Hedda. Quite so — but look here, you must do it beau- tifully. I don't insist on you putting vine-leaves in your hair — but do it beautifully. {Frh-hes pistol.) See, here is one of General Gabler's pis- tols — do it with that/ LOVBORG. Thanks ! [//rings out the manuscript, and puts it on the fire, whispering to herself, as Curtain falls. " I am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar.' ACT III. Scene — The same Room, but — // being evening — darker than ever — the crape curtains are draiitn. A Servant, icith black ribbons in her cap, and red eyes, comes in and lights the gas quietly and carefully. Chords are heard on the piano in the back Drawing-room. Pres- ently Hedda comes in and looks out into the darkness. A short pause. Enter George Tesman. George. I am so uneasy about poor Lovborg. Fancy ! he is not at home. Mrs. Elvsted told me he had been here early this morning, so I suppose you gave him back his manuscript, eh? 123 124 ^1^^^'- PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, no. iii. Hedda {colli and immovable, supported by arm- cliair) . No, I put it on the fire instead. George. On the fire ! Lovborg's wonderful new book tliat he read to me at Brack's party, when we had that wild revelry last night! Fancy tliat ! riut, I say, Hedda — isn't that raiJicr — ch ? Too bad, you know — really. A great work like that. How on earth did you come to think of it? Hedda {si/ppn'ssin<:; an almost imperceptible smile) . Well, dear (".eorge, you gave me a tolerably strong hint. CIeorge. Me ? Well, to be sure — that is a joke ! Why, ACT III. HEDDA G ABLER. 125 I only said that I envied him for writing such a book, and it would put me entirely in the shade if it came out, and if anything was to happen to it, I should never forgive myself, as poor Lovborg couldn't write it all over again, and so we must take the greatest care of it ! And then I left it on a chair and went away — that was all ! And you went and burnt the book all up ! Bless me, who would have expected it? Hedda. Nobody, you dear simple old soul ! But I did it for your sake — it was love, George ! George {in an outburst betueen doubt and Joy). Hedda, you don't mean that ! Your love takes such queer forms sometimes. Yes, but yes — {laughing in excess of Joy), why, you must be fond of me ! Just think of that now ! Well, you are 126 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, no. hi. fun, Medda ! Look here, I must just run and tell the housemaid that — she will enjoy the joke so, eh? Hedda {coldly, in self-covimand). It is surely not necessary, even for a clever Norwegian man of letters in a realistic social drama, to make quite such a fool of himself as all that? George. No, that's true too. Perhaps we'd better keep it quiet — though I must tell Aunt Julie — it will make her so happy to hear that you burnt a manu- script on my account ! And, besides, I should like to ask her whether that's a usual thing with young wives. {Looks uneasy and pensive again.) But poor old ICjlcrt's manuscript ! Oh Lor, you know ! Well, well ! [Mrs. Elvsted comes in. ACT III. HEDDA G ABLER. 127 Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, please, I'm so uneasy about dear Mr. Lovborg. Something has happened to him, I'm sure ! Judge Brack, {comes in from the hall, with a new hat in his hand). You have guessed it, first time. Something has / Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, dear, good gracious! What is it? Some- thing distressing, I'm certain of it ! « [^Shrieks aloitJ. Brack (^pleasantly). That depends on how one takes it. He has shot himself, and is in a hospital now, that's all ! 128 MK. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. No. m. George i^sympathetidxlly) . That's sad, eh ? poor old Lovborg ! Well, I am cut up to hear that. Fancy, though, eh ? Hedda, Was it through the temple, or through the breast? The breast? Well, one can do it beau- tifully through the breast, too. Do you know, as an advanced woman, I like an act of that sort — it's so positive, to have the courage to settle the account with himself — it's beautiful, really ! Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, Hedda, what an odd way to look at it ! I5ut never mind poor dear Mr. Lovborg now. What 7ve've got to do is to see if we can't put his wonderful manuscript, that he said he had torn to pieces, together again. ^^Takcs a bundle of ACT III. HEDDA GABLER. 129 sinall pages out of the pocket of her mantle.') There are the loose scraps he dictated it to me from. I hid them on the chance of some such emergency. And if dear Mr. Tesman and I were to put our heads together, I do think something might come of it. George. Fancy ! I will dedicate my life — or all I can spare of it — to the task. I seem to feel I owe him some slight amends, perhaps. No use crying over spilt milk, eh, ]\Irs. Elvsted? We'll sit down — just you and I — in the back drawing-room, and see if you can't inspire me as you did him, eh? Mrs. Elvsted. Oh, goodness, yes ! I should like it — if it only might be possible ! I30 Mh\ PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. Nd. iii. [George atjd Mrs. Elvsted go into tlic bock Drawing-room and become absorbed in eager conversation ; IIiupa sits in a cliair in the front room, and a little later Dkack crosses over to Jicr. Hedda (/// a low tone). Oil, Judge, 7ohat a relief to know that every- thing — includinp; Lovborg's pistol — went off so well ! h\ the breast ! Isn't there a veil of unin- tentional beauty in that? Such an act of volun- tary courage, too ! Brack {smiles) . 11 'm ! — perhaps, dear Mrs. Hedda Hedda {enthusiastically) . But wastiU it sweet of him ! To have the courage to li\'e his own life after his own fashion ACT III. HEDDA GABLER. 131 — to break away from the banquet of life — so early and so drunk ! A beautiful act like that does appeal to a superior woman's imagination ! Brack. Sorry to shatter your poetical illusions, little Mrs. Hedda, but, as a matter of fact, our lamented friend met his end under other circumstances. The shot did not strike him in the breast — l3ut \^Paiises. Hedda {excitedly). General Gabler's pistols ! I might have known it ! Did they ever shoot straight? Where was he hit, then? Brack (/;/ a discreet undertone). A little lower down ! 132 MK. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, no. hi. Hedda. Oh, how disgusting ! — how vulgar ! — how ridiculous ! — like everything else about me ! Brack. Yes, we're realistic tyi>es of human nature, and all thai — but a tritlc s(iualid, perhaps. And why did you give T.ovborg your pistol, when it was certain to be traced by the police ? For a charm- ing cold-blooded woman with a clear head and no scruples, wasn't it just a leetle foolish? Hedda. Perhaps ; but I wanted liini to do it beautifully, and he didn't ! Oh, I've just admitted that I did give him the pistol — how annoyingly unwise of me ! Now I'm in your power, I suppose? ACT III. HEDDA GABLER. 133 Brack. Precisely — for some reason it's not easy to understand. But it's inevitable, and you know how you dread anything approaching scandal. ,A11 your past proceedings show that. {To George and Mrs. Elvsted, ivlio come in together from the baek-room.) Well, how are you getting on with the reconstruction of poor Lovborg's great work, eh? George. Capitally ; we've made out the first two parts already. And really, Hedda, I do believe Mrs. Elvsted is inspiring me ; I begin to feel it coming on. Fancy that ! Mrs. Elvsted. Yes, goodness ! Hedda, zvon't it be lovely if I can. I mean to try so hard ! 134 1/A'- PI XCirS POCKET IBSEN. NO. in. Hedda. Do, you dear little silly rabbit ; and while you are trying I will go into the back drawing-room and lie down. \_She goes iii/o f/w l>ack-ioom and driuvs the curtains. Short pause. Suddenly she is heard phiying " The Bogie Man " within on the piano. George. But, dearest Hedda, don't play " The Bogie Man " this evening. As one of my aunts is dead, and poor old Lovborg has shot himself, it seems just a litUe pointed, eh? Hedda {puts licr head out bcti^vccn the curtains). All right ! I'll be quiet after this. I'm going to practise with the late Cleneral Gabler's i)istol ! \_Closes the curtains again : George gets behind ACT III. HEDDA GABLER. IJ5 the stove, Judge Br.\ck under the table, and Mrs. Elvsted under the sofa. A shot is heard vjithin. George {behind the store). Eh, look here, I tell you what — she's hit >ne / Think of that ! \_IIis legs are visibly agitated for a short time. Another shot is heard. Mrs. Elvsted {under the sofa). Oh, please, not me ! Oh, goodness, now I can't inspire anybody any more. Oh ! \_Her feet, which can be seen under the valance, quiver a little, and then are suddenly still. Brack {vivaciously, from under the table) . I say, Mrs. Hedda, I'm coming in every even- ing — we will have great fun here togeth • 136 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, nu. hi. (^Another shot is heard.) IJless me ! to bring down the poor old cock-of-the-walk — it's unsportsman- like ! — people don't i/o such things as that ! \_The table-ilotli is violently agitated for a minute, and presently tlic curtains open, and Hedda appears. Hkdda {clearly and Jirnily). I've been trying in there to shoot myself beau- tifully — but wiih Cieneral Gabler's pistol {.She lifts the table-cloth, then looks behind the stove and under the sofa.) \\"hat I the accounts of all those everlasting bores settled? Then my suicide becomes unnecessary. Yes, I feel the courage of life once more ! [.S7/(f goes into the back-room and plays " The Funeral March of a I\[arionette " as the Curtain falls. THE END. What 1 the accounts of all those everlasting bores settled?" No. IV. THE WILD DUCK Father, a wofl with yuu in private. 1 loathe you! " No. IV. THE WILD DUCK. ACT I. At \\'erle's house. In front a richly-uphohtered study. (r.) a green-baize door leading to Werle's office. At back, open folding doors, revealing an elegant dining-room, in which a brilliant Nortvegian dinner-party is going on. Hired Waite7-s in profusion. A glass is tapped ivith a knife. Shouts of ^' Bravo f' Old Mr. Werle /.$■ heaj'd making a lojig speech, proposing — according to the custom of Norwegian society on such occasions — the health of his House- keeper, Mrs. Sorbv. Presently several short- 141 142 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. no. iv. sighted, flabby, and thin-haired Chamberl-'^ins enter from the dining-room, with Hialmar Ekdal, 7vho writhes shyly under tlieir remarks. A Chamberlain. As we are the sole surviving specimens of Nor- wegian nobility, suppose we sustain our reputa- tion as aristocratic sparklers by enlarging upon the enormous amount we have eaten, and chaffing Hialmar Ekdal, the friend of our host's son, for being a professional Photographer? The Ojher Chamberlains. Bravo ! We will. {They do; delight of Hialmar. Old Werle comes in, leaning on his Housekeeper's arm, followed by his son, Gregers Werle. Old Werle {dejectedly). Thirteen at table ! ( To Gregers, luith a mean- ACT I. THE WILD DUCK. 143 ing glance at Hialmar.) This is the result of inviting an old College friend who has turned Photographer ! Wasting vintage wines on ]n))i, indeed ! \_He passes on gloomily. *■ Hialmar {lo Gregers). I am almost sorry I came. Your old min is fiol friendly. Yet he set me up as a Photographer fifteen years ago. JVozo he takes me down ! But for him, I should never have married Gina, who, you may remember, was a servant in your family once. Gregers. What? my old College friend married fifteen years- ago — and to our Gina, of all people! If I had not been up at the works all these years, I suppose I should have heard something of such an event. But my father never mentioned it. Odd! 144 'Wv'. PUNCH 'S POCKET IBSEN, no. iv. \_He ponders ; Old Ekdal comes out through the green-baize door, bowing, and begging pardon, carrying copying loork. Old \\'i;ki.e says " Ugh " and ^' Pah " involuntarily. Hialmar shrinks back, and looks another avay. A Chamberlain asks him pleasantly if he knows that old man. Hlvlmar. I — oil no. Not in the least. No relation ! Gregers (shocked). What, Hialmar, you, with your great soul, deny your own father ! Hialmar {vehemently). Of course — what else can a Photographer (\o with a disreputable old jiarent, who has been in a Penitentiary for making a fraudulent map? I shall leave this splendid banijuet. The Cham- ACT I. THE WILD DUCK. 145 berlains are not kind to me, and I feel the crushing hand of fate on my head ! \_Goes out hasiily, feeling it. ^ Mrs. Sorbv (^arehly). Any Nobleman here say " Cold Punch " ? \_Every Nobleman says " Cold Punch,''' and follotvs her out in search of it with enthu- siasm. Gregers approaches his fatlier, who wishes he would go. Gregers. Father, a word with you in private. I loathe you. I am nothing if not candid. Old Ekdal was your partner once, and it's my firm belief you deserved a prison quite as much as he did. However, you surely need not have married our Gina to my old friend Hialmar. You know very 140 MK. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. no. iv. well she was no better than she should have been ! Oil) Wf.ri.e. True — but then no more is Mrs. Sorby. And / am gohig to marry her — if you liave no ob- jection, that is. Gregers. None in the world ! How can I object to a stepmother who is playing Blind Man's Iiuff at the present moment with the Norwegian nobility? I am not so overstrained as all that. But really 1 cixnno/ allow my old friend llialmar, with his great, confiding, childlike mind, to remain in contented ignorance of Gina's past. No, I see my mission in life at last I I shall take my hat, and inform him that his home is built upon a lie. He will be so nnu Ii (ibliged to me! [^Tal't's his ha/, and goes out. ACT I. THE WILD DUCK. 147 Old Werle, Ha ! — I am a wealthy merchant, of dubious morals, and I am about to marry my housekeeper, who is on intimate terms with the Norwegian aristocracy. I have a son who loathes me, and who is either an Ibsenian satire on the Master's own ideals, or else an utterly impossible prig — I don't know or care which. Altogether, I flatter myself my household affords an accurate and realistic picture of Scandinavian Society ! ACT II. HiAi.MAR Ekdal's Photographic Stiniio. Cameras, jieck-resis, and other instruments of torture tying about. Gina Ekdai, (/;/(/ Hedvig, her daughter, aged fourteen, and wearing spectacles, discovered sitting up for Hialmar. Hedvig. Grandpapa is in his room with a bottle of brandy and a jug of hot water, doing some fresh copying worlc. Father is in society, dining out. He promised he would bring me home something nice ! Hialmar (^coming in, in evening dress). And he has not forgotten his promise, my child. 14S ACT II. THE WILD DUCK. 149 Behold ! {^He prcseiiis her with the menu card ,- Hedvig gulps doivn her tears ; Hialmar notices her disappointment, with annoyance?) And this all the gratitude I get ! After dining out and coming home in a dress-coat and boots, which are disgracefully tight ! Well, well, just to show you how hurt I am, I won't have any beer now ! What a selfish brute I am ! {Relenting.) You may bring me just a little drop. {He bursts into tears.) I will play you a plaintive Bohemian dance on my flute. {He does.) No beer at such a sacred moment as this ! {He drinks.) Ha, this is real domestic bliss ! [Gregers Werle comes in, in a countrified suit. Gregers. I have left my father's home — dinner-party and all — for ever. I am coming to lodge with you. ISO MR. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. no. iv. HiALMAR {sti// mc/anch(y/y). Have some bread and l)iitter. ^'ou won't? then I 7i'/7/. 1 want it, after your father's lavish hospitality. (Hf.dvig goes to fchh bread atui butler.^ My daughter — a jioor short-sighted little thing — but mine own. Gregers. My father has had to take to strong glasses, too — he can hardly see after dinner. (71> Old Ekdal, who stumbles in very drinik.) How can you. Lieutenant l-^kdal, who were such a keen sportsman once, live in this poky little hole? Oi.i» Ekdal. I am a sportsman still. The only difference is that once 1 shot bears in a forest, and now I pot tame rabbits in a garret. Quite as amusing — and safer. \_IIe goes to sleep on a sofa. ACT II. THE WILD DUCK. 151 HiAOiAR {7inth pride). It is quite true. You shall see. \^He pushes back sliding doors, and 7-eveals a garret full of raldnls and poultry — moon- light effect. Hedvig returns with bread and butter. Hedvig {to Gregers). If you stand just there, you get the best view of our AMld Duck. We are very proud of her, because she gives the play its title, you know, and has to be brought into the dialogue a good deal. Your father peppered her out shooting, and we saved her life. HiALMAR. Yes, Gregers, our estate is not large — but still we preserve, you see. And my poor old father and I sometimes get a day's gunning in the garret. 152 MR. PUNCirS POCKET IBSEN. no. i\ . He shoots with a pistol, which my ilHterate wife here 7iI,iin wlial I mean. Jt is my mission in life, (lood night ! \_He goes out. ACT II. THE WILD DUCK. 153 GiNA and Hedvig. What was the gentleman talking about, Father? HiALMAR {eating bread and butter') He has been dining, you know. No matter — what 7i.ie have to do now, is to put my disreputable old white-haired pariah of a parent to bed, \^He atid Gina lift Old Eccles — 7ve mean Old Ekdal — /// by the legs and arms, and take him off to bed as the Curtain falls. ACT III. Hialmar's Studio. A photograph has just been taken. Gina and Hedvig are tidying up. GiNA {apologetically). There should have been a hincheon-party in this Act, with Dr. Relling antl McHvik, who would have been in a state of comic " chippiness," after his excesses overnight. But, as it hadn't much to do with such plot as there is, we cut it out. It came cheaper. Here comes your father back from his walk with that lunatic, Young Werle — you had better go and play with the W ild 1 )u( k. \\\^\i\\G goes. HiALMAR {coming in). I have been for a walk with Gregers ; he meant •54 ACT III. THE WILD DUCK. 155 well — but it was tiring. Gina, he has told me that, fifteen years ago, before I married you, you were rather a Wild Duck, so to speak. (^Severely.) Why haven't you been writhing in penitence and remorse all these years, eh? Gina (^sensibly). Why? Because I have had other things to do. You wouldn't take any photographs, so I had to. HiALMAR. All the same — it was a swamp of deceit. And where am I to find elasticity of spirit to bring out my grand invention now? I used to shut myself up in the parlour, and ponder and cry, when I thought that the effort of inventing any- thing would sap my vitality. {Pathetically.) I did want to leave you an inventor's widow ; but I never shall now, particularly as I haven't made 15O MR. Pb'NCirs POCKET IBSEN, no. iv. up my mind what to invent yet. Yes, it's all over. Rabbits are trash, and even poultry palls. And I'll wring that cursed \\ ild Duck's neck ! Gkegers {coining in beaming). Well, so you've got it over. Wasn't it soothing and ennobling, eh? and ain't you both obliged to me? GiNA. No ; it's my opinion you'd better have minded your own business. [ Weeps. Gregers (/V/ great surprise). Bless me ! Pardon my Norwegian naivete, but this ought really to be (juite a new starting-point. Why, I confidently expected to have found you both beaming ! — Mrs. Ekdal, being so illiterate, may take some little time to see it — but you. ACT III. . THE WILD DUCK. 157 Hialmar, with your deep mind, surely you feel a new consecration, eh? Hialmar {ilubioiisly) . Oh — er — yes. I suppose so — in a sort of way. I^Hedvig runs iu, overjoyed. Hedvig. Father, only see what Mrs. Sorby has given me for a birthday j^resent — a beautiful deed of gift ! \_Shoivs it. Hialmar {eluding Jier). Ha ! Mrs. Sorby, the family Housekeeper. My Cither's sight failing ! Hedvig in goggles ! What vistas of heredity these astonishing coinci- dences open up ! / am not short-sighted, at all events, and I see it all — all ! This is my answer. {He takes the deed, and tea is it across.) Now 158 MR. rUXCirS POCKET IBSEN, no. iv, I have nothing more to do in this house. {Puts on overcoat.) My home has fallen in ruins about me. {Bursts into tears.) My hat ! (3REGEKS. Oh, but you mustn't go. You must be all three together, to attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrificing forgiveness, you know ! HiAl.MAK. Self-sacrificing forgiveness be blowed ! \_IIc tears himse// aicay, and i^oes out. TTf.iaii; {-oith t/es/>airin<^^ eyes). Oh, he said it might be blowed ! Now he'll never come home any more ! Gregers. Shall 1 tell you how to regain your father's ACT III. THE WILD DUCK. 159 confidence, and bring him home surely? Sac- rifice the Wild Duck. Hedvig. Do you think that will do any good? Gregers. You just try it! \_Cii)tain. ACT IV. Same Scene. Gregers enters, ixnJ finds Gina retouching photographs. Gregers {pleasantly). Hialmar not come in yet, after last night, I suppose? Gina. Not he ! He's been out on the loose all night with Relling and Molvik. Now he's snoring on their sofa. G REG ERS ( disappoin ted ) . Dear ! — dear ! — when he ought to be yearning to wrestle in solitude and self-examination ! I Co ACT IV. THE WILD DUCK. i6i GlXA {rudely). Self-examine your grandmother ! \_She goes out ; Hedvig comes in. Gregers {to Hedvig). Ah, I see you haven't found courage to settle the Wild Duck yet ! Hedvig. No — it seemed such a delightful idea at first. Now it strikes me as a trifle — well, Ibsenish. Gregers {reprovingly). I thought you hadn't grown up quite unharmed in this house ! But if you really had the true, joyous spirit of self-sacrifice, you'd have a shot at that Wild Duck, if you died for it ! I62 MR. rUXCirS pocket IBSEiV. no. IV. Hedvig {s/o7a/)'). I sec ; yoii mean that my constitution's chang- ing, and I ought to behave as such? Gregers. Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank" — but / believe in you, Hedvig. [Hedvk; fcikes 1/070/1 the pistol from the mantel- piece, and goes into the garret with plashing eyes; Gina comes in. HiAi.MAR {looking in at door 7vith hesitation ; he is unwashed and dishevelled). Has anybody happened to see my hat? Gina. Gracious, what a sight you are ! Sit down and have some breakfast, do. \_She />rings it. ACTiv. THE WILD DUCK. 163 HiALMAR {i7idig7tantly) . What! touch food under this roof? Never! {He/ps hi/iiscif to bread-and-butter and coffee.^ Go and pack up my scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my port- manteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare room for another day or two — it won't be the same as living with you ! \_He takes some salt meat Gregers. Must yow go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build upon — thanks to me ! Then there's your great invention, too. HiALMAR. Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention because, although it i64 .UK. I'LWCirS POCKET IBSEN, no. iv. doesn't exist yet, I thought lIciKiL,' bclioved in it, with all the strength of her swet-t little sliort- sighted eyes! But now 1 don't believe in lled- vig ! [//ith a plain sensible countenance, but slightly 7i.ieak hair and expression). Come here, Miss Blakdraf. (^Hangs up hat, anil thro7vs his mackintosh on a divatt.) Ila\o you made out all those hills \(.'t? \_Looks sternly at her. Sknna {in a lou' hesitating I'oice). Almost. I have charged each patient with three attendances daily. I'Acn when you only ACT I. PILL-DOCTOR HER DAL. 175 dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. {Passion- ately.) I felt 1 must — I must.' Dr. Herdal {alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and whispers). I wish you could make out the bills for me, always. Senna (/// nen'ous exaltation^. How lovely that would be ! Oh, you are so unspeakably good to me ! It is too enthralling to be here ! [^Sinks down and embraces his knees. Dr. Herdal. So I've understood. ( With suppressed irrita- tion.) For goodness' sake, let go my legs ! I do ivish you wouldn't be so confoundedly neurotic ! RuBUB {has risen, and comes in through glass- door, breathing with difficulty ; he is a prcma- 176 MR. PUNCirs POCKET IBSEN. act i. tiirely hald youni^ tfian of fifty -five, with a hare- lip and squints s/ii:;ht/y). I beg pardon, Dr. Ilcrdal. 1 sec 1 interrupt you. {.Is Sknn'a rises.) I have just completed this pill. Have you looked at it? \_JJe offers it for inspection diffidently. Dr. Hkrdaf, {evasively'). It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions. RuBUB {cast down). All these years you have never given me one encouraging word ! Can't you praise my pill? Dr. Hkrdai, {struggles with himself). I — I cannot. Vou should not attempt to com- pound pills on your own account. RiJBUB {breathing laboriously). And \cl there was a lime when you, too ACT I. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 177 Dr. Herdal (^complacently). Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a lucky stepping-stone — but not a pill like that ! RuBUB {vehemently') . Listen ! Is that your last word ? Is my aged mother to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to construct an effective pill or not? Dr. Herdal {as if in desperation). You had better try it upon your mother — it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind — I will not be responsible for the result. RiJBUB. I understand. Exactly as you tried your pill, all those years ago, upon Dr. Ryval. \^He bo7vs, and goes out. 178 MK. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. Acr i. Dr. Herdal {utieasily). He said that so strangely, Senna. But tell me now — when are you going to marry him? Senna {starts — half glancing up at /lim). I — I don't know. This year — next year — now — never/ I cannot marry him ... I can- not — 1 cannot — it is so utterly impossible to leave you ! Dr. Herdal. Yes, I can understand that. liut, my poor Senna, hadn't you better take a little walk? Senna {clasps her hands gratefully). How sweet and thoughtful you are to nie ! I will take a walk. Dr. Herdal (rt'/V// a suppressed smile). Do I And — h'm ! — you needn't trouble to ACT I. PILL-DOCrOR HERD A L. 179 come back. I have advertised for a male book- keeper — they are less emotional. Good-night, my little Senna ! Senna {softly, and quiveringly). Good-night, Dr. Herdal ! \_Stagge7-s out of hall door, blowing kisses. Mrs. Herdal {enters through the window, plain- tively) . Quite an acquisition for you, Haustus, this Miss Blakdraf ! Dr. Herdal. She's — h'm ! — extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting with her. Aline — mainly on your account. Mrs. Herdal {evades him). Was it on my account, indeed, Haustus? You l8o MK. rUA'CI/'S POCKET IBSEN. act i. have parted witli so many young persons on my account — so you tell me! Dr. Hf.rdal {depressed). Oh, but this is hopeless ! When I have tried so hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your deso- late life ! I must give Riibub Kalomel notice too — his pill is really too preposterous ! Mrs. Herdal {/cc/s f^ropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor). Him, too! Ah, Haustus, you will never make my home a real home for me. My poor first husband, Halvard Solness, tried — and he couldn't ! \\'hen one has had such misfortunes as I have — all the family portraits burnt, and the silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls. [ Chokes with tears. ACT PILL-DOCTOR HERD A L. iSi Dr. Herdal {as if to lead her away from the subject^ . Yes, yes, yes, that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor AHne. I can understand that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master Builder Solness to be so taken up with that Miss Wangel as he was — that, too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did that day ten years ago Mrs. Herdal. Yes, that too, Haustus. But I did not mind it so much — it all seemed so perfectly natural in both of them. Dr. Herdal. Natural ! For a girl of twenty-three to taunt a middle-aged architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never to let l82 MK. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. act i. him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as himself — and all for the fun of seeing him fall off — how in the world ! Mrs. Hf.rdai, {/avinc; the tabic for supper with dried fish and punchy. The younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, Haustus, and perhaps, after all, she was only a perplexing sort of allegory. Dr. Hkrdal. Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. ]]ut how he could be sucii an old fool ! Mrs. Hf.rdal. That Miss Wangel was a strangely fascinating type of girl, ^\'hy, even I myself ACT I. PILL-DOCTOR HER DAL. 183 Dr. Herdal {sits down and takes some fish). Fascinating? Well, goodness knows, I couldn't see that at all. {Seriously.) Has it never struck you, Aline, that elderly Norwegians are so deu- cedly impressionable — mere bundles of over- strained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia? Except, of course, the Medical Profession, Mrs. Herdal. Yes, of course ; those in that profession are not so inclined to gangle. And when one has suc- ceeded by such a stroke of luck as you have Dr. Herdal {drinks a glass of punch). You're right enough there. If I had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. Ryval, who used to have the leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his shoes as I 184 MR. PUNCH'S rOCKET IBSEN. act!. did. (Cha Hill's to a ionc of quiet, chuckling merri- ment.) I.cl nic tell you a funny story, Aline; it sounds a ludicrous thing — but all niy good fortune here was based upon a simple little \n\\. For if Dr. Ryval had never taken it Mrs. Hi.kPAi. {anxious/v). Then you do think it was the pill that caused him to ? Dr. ?Ii-.ri)AL. On the contrary ; 1 am perfectly sure the \m\\ had nothing whatever to do with it — the inquest made it quite clear that it was really the liniment. But don't you see, .Aline, what tortures me night and tlay is the thoui^ht that it mii^/it unconsciously have been the pill wliich Never to be free from that/ To have such a thought gnawing and burning always — always, like a moral mustard poultice ! [/A' takes more punch. ACT I. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 185 Mrs. Herdal. Yes ; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on every breast — and we must never take it off either — it is our simple duty to keep it on. I too, Haustus, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss Wangel were to ring at our bell now Dr. Herdal. After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe enough in some Sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she did come? Do you think, my dear good woman, that I — a sensible clear-headed general practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself — would let her play the deuce with me as she did with poor Halvard? No, general practitioners don't do such things — even in Norway ! 1 86 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. act i. Mrs. Herdal. Don't they indeed, Haustus? {The Suri^ery- bfll rings /oiu/ly.) Did you hear f/ia/ / 'I'hcre she is. I will go and i)ut on my best cap. It is my duty to show her that small attention. Dr. iIi:Ri)AL {/ai/g/iiiig /wn'ously'). Why, what on earth ! It's the night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keei)er ! (Mrs. YivMBXh goes 01/ f; Dr. Hkrdal rises witli liifficulty, and opens the door.) Goodness gracious ! — it is that girl, after all ! Hilda Wangf.l {enters through the Dispensary door. She 7cears a divided skirt, tliiek boots, and a Tarn o\Shanter, ivith an eagle's 7Ci indefinable expression in her eyes, and Dr. Herdal looks on. gloomily as the Curtain Jails. End of First Act. ACT II. Dr. Hekiwl's Draiving-rooin and Dispensary, as before. It is early in the day. Dr. Herdal sits by the little table, taking his oioii temperature with a clinical thenndmcter. By the door stands The New Book-keeper ; he wears blue specta- cles and a discoloured white tic, and seems slightly neri'ous. Dr. Herdal. Well, now you understand what is necessary. My late book-keeper, Miss IJlakdraf, used to keep my accounts very cleverly — she charged every visit twice over. The New Rook- keeper. T am familiar with book-keeping by double entry. I was once employed at a Bank. 190 ACT 11. PILL-DOCTOR HERBAL. 191 Dr. Herdal. I am discharging my assistant, too ; he was always trying to push me out with his pills. Per- haps you will be able to dispense? The New Book-keeper {modes f/y). With an additional salary, I should be able to do that too. Dr. Herdal. Capital ! You shall dispense with an additional salary. Go into the Dispensary, and see what you can make of it. You may mistake a few drugs at first — but everything must have a beginning. \_As The New Book-keeper ir fires, Mrs. Her- dal enters in a hat and cloak with a 7aater- ing-pot, noiselessly. Mrs. Herdal. Miss Wangel got up early, before breakfast, and 192 MR. PUXCI/'S roc k' FT IBSEN. act ii. went for a walk. She is so wonderfully viva- cious ! Dk. Her DAL. So I should say. lUit tell me, Aline, is she really going to stay with us here? S^Xcrvously. Mrs. Herdal {looks at him). So she tells nie. And, as she has brought nothing with her except a tooth-brush and a powder-puff, I am going into the town to get her a few articles. We must make her feel at home. Dr. Hfrdai, {I' reading out). I will make her not only feel, but l>e at home, wherever that is, this very day ! 1 will not have a perambulating Allegory without a portmanteau here on an indefinite visit. I say, she shall go — do you hear, Aline? Miss Wangel will go! \_Raps ivith his fist on tabic. A.CT II. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 193 Mrs. Herdal {quietly). If you say so, Haustus, no doubt she will have to go. But you must tell her so yourself. \^Piits the watering-pot on the console-table, and goes out, as Hilda enters, sparkling witli pleasure. Hilda {goes up straight to him). Good mornmg, Dr. Herdal. I have just seen a pig killed. It was ripping — I mean, gloriously thrilling ! And your wife has taken a tremendous fancy to me. Fancy that/ Dr. Herdal {gloomily). It is eccentric certainly. But my poor dear wife was always a little Hilda {nods her head slowly several times). So you have noticed that too? I have had a 194 MK. rUXCJ/'S POCKET 7BSEN. Acr ii. long talk with her. She can't get over your dis- charging Mr. Kalomel — he is the only man who ever rca//y understood her. Dr. Herdal. If I could only pay her off a little bit of the huge, imincMsiuahle debt I owe her — but I can't ! Hilda {looks hard at him). Can't / help you? I helped Ragnar Brovik. Didn't you know I stayed with him and poor little Kaia — after that accident to my Master Ikiilder? I did. I made Ragnar build me the loveliest castle in the air — lovelier, even, than poor Mr. Solness's would have been — and we stood together on the very top. The steps were rather too much for Kaia. Resides, there was no room for her on top. And he put towering spires on all his semi- detached villas. Only, somehow, they didn't let. ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HERBAL. 195 Then the castle in the air tumbled down, and Ragnar went into liquidation, and I continued my walking-tour. Dr. Herdal {interested against Jiis zviH). And where did you go after that, may I ask, Miss Wangel? Hilda. Oh, ever so far North. There I met Mr. and Mrs. Tesman — the second Mrs. Tesman — she who was Mrs. Elvsted, with the irritating hair, you know. They were on their honeymoon, and had just decided that it was impossible to reconstruct poor Mr. Lovborg's great book out of Mrs. Elv- sted's rough notes. But I insisted on George's attempting the impossible — with Me. And what do you think Mrs. Tesman wears in her hair now? 196 MK. I'UNCirS POCKET IBSEN. alt 11. Dr. I Ikrdai.. Why, really I could not say. Vine-leaves, perhaps. Hilda. Wrong — straws ! Poor Tesman didn't f;incy that — so he shot himself, ////-beautifully, through his ticket-pocket. And I went on and took Rosmersholm for the Suninier. There had been misfortune in the house, so it was to let. Dear good old Rector Kroll acted as my reference; his wife and children had no sympathy with his views, so I used to see him every day. And I persuaded him, too, to attemj^t the impossible — he had never ridden anything but a rocking-horse in his life, but I made him promise to mount the White Horse of the Rosmersholms. Me didn't get over that. They found his body, a fortnight afterwards, in the mill-dam. Thrilling ! ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 197 Dr. Herdal {shakes his finger at he)-). What a girl you are, Miss Wangel ! But you mustn't play these games here, you know. Hilda {laughs to herself^. Of course not. But I suppose I am a strange sort of bird. Dr. Herdal. You are like a strong tonic. When I look at you I seem to be regarding an effervescing saline draught. Still, I really must decline to take you. Hilda {a little sulky'). That is not how you spoke ten years ago, up at the mountain station, when you were such a flirt ! Dr. Herdal. JVas I a flirt? Deuce take me if I remember. But I am not like that now. 198 MM. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. acth. Hilda. Then you have really forgotten how you sat next to me at the table ifhdte, and made pills and swallowed them, and were so splendid and buoyant and free that all the old women who knitted left next day? Dr. Herdal. What a memory you ha\'e for trifles, Miss Wan- gel, it's quite wonderful ! Hilda. Trifles ! There was no trifling on your part. When you promised to come back in ten years, like a troll, and fetch me ! Dr. Herdal. Dill I say all that? It must have been after table iVhote! ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HEKDAL. 199 Hilda. It was. I was a mere chit then — only twenty- three ; but / remember. And now / have come for you. Dr. Herdal. Dear, dear ! But there is nothing of the troll about me now I have married Mrs. Solness. Hilda {looking sharply at him). Yes, I remember you were always dropping in to tea in those days. Dr. Herdal {seems hurt). Every visit was duly put down in the ledger and charged for — as poor little Senna will tell you. Hilda. Little Senna? Oh, Dr. Herdal, I beheve there is a bit of the troll left in you still ! 200 MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEX. actii. Dr. Herdal {/ai/!^/is a little). No, no ; my conscience is perfectly robust — always was. Hilda. Are you quite quite sure tliat, when you went indoors with dear Mrs. Solness that afternoon, and left me alone with my Master Builder, you did not foresee — perhaps wish — intend, even a little, that H'm? Dr. Herbal. That you would talk the poor man into clam- bering up that tower ? Vou want to drag Me into that business now ! Hilda {tea singly). Yes, I certainly think that then you went on exactly like a troll. ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HEKDAL. 201 Dr. Herdal {tvith uncontrollable emotioji). Hilda, there is not a corner of me safe from you ! Yes, I see now that must have been the way of it. Then I luas a troll in that, too ! But isn't it terrible the price I have had to pay for it? To have a wife who No, I shall never roll a pill again — never, never ! Hilda {lays her head on the stove, and answers as if half asleep). No more pills? Poor Doctor Herdal! Dr. Herdal {bitterly). No — nothing but cosy commonplace grey pow- ders for a whole troop of children. Hilda {lively again). Not grey powders ! ( Quite seriously.) I will tell you what you shall make next. Beautiful 202 M/i. PUXCirS I'OCKET IBSEN. alt ii. rainbow-coloured powders that will give one a real grip on the world. Powders to make every one free and buoyant, and ready to grasp at one's own happiness, to liare wliat one would. I will have you make them. I will — I will ! I)k. Herdal. H'm ! I am not quite sure that I clearly under- stand. And then the ingredients ? Hilda. What stupid people all of you pill-doctors are, to be sure ! ^^ hy, they will be poisons, of coyrse ! Dr. Herdal. Poisons? Why in the world should they be that ? Hilda {7c>itJioiit ansiccring him). All the thrillingest, deadliest poisons — it is only such things that are wholesome, nowadays. " Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders that will give one a real grip on the world ! " ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HEKDAL. 205 Dr. Herdal {as if caught by her enthusiasm). And I could colour them, too, by exposing them to rays cast through a prism. Oh, Hilda, how I have needed you all these years ! For, you see, with her it was impossible to discuss such things. \_Efnbraces her. Mrs. Herdal {enters noiselessly through hall- door) . I suppose, Haustus, you are persuading Miss Wangel to start by the afternoon steamer? I have bought her a pair of curling-tongs, and a packet of hair-pins. The larger parcels are coming on presently. Dr. Herdal {uneasily). H'm ! Hilda — Miss Wangel, I should say — is kindly going to stay on a litUe longer, to assist 2o6 MR. rUXCirS J'OCh'El' IBSEX. ACTII. mc in some scientific experiments. You wouldn't understand them if I told you. Mrs. Herdal. Shouldn't I. llaustus? I daresay not. [The New Book-kkkper looks fhroui^h the glass- door of Dispensary. Hilda {starts violently and points — then in a whisper) . Who is that? Dr. Herual. Only the New Book-keeper and Assistant — a very intelligent person. Hilda {/oohs straight in front of her 7vith a far- atvav e.xpression, and ichispcrs to hfrsclf). I thought at first it was . . . But no— that wo\ild 1)C too frightfully thrilling ! ACT II. PILL-DOCTOR HER DAL. 207 Dr. Herdal i/o himself). I'm turning into a regular old troll now — but I can't help myself. After all, I am only an elderly Norwegian. We are tnm/e like that . . . Rainbow powders — real rainbow powders ! With Hilda ! . . . Oh, to have the joy of life once more ! \_Takes his temperature again as Curtain falls. ACT TIT. On the ri<^lU, a smart 7'craiu/ali, attachcii to 1)K. Hkrdal's dwelling-house, and coinnii/nieating with the Drawing-room and Disple-do7vn roekery, with a headless /blaster Mercury. In front, a la7vn, 7vith a large silvetrd glass globe on a stand. Chairs and tables. All the furniture is of galvanised iron. A sunset is seen going on among the trees. Dk. Hi kii\i. {comes out of Dispensary-door cau- tiously, and 7ohispers). Hil(l:i, are you in there? [71//J 7c>ith fingers on Drawing-room door. 208 ACT III. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 209 Hilda (^conies out with a half-teasing smile). Well — and how is the Rainbow-powder getting on, Dr. Herdal? Dr. Herdal {with enthusiasm). It is getting on simply splendidly. I sent the new Assistant out to take a little walk, so that he should not be in the way. There is x\rsenic in the powder, Hilda, and Digitalis too, and Strychnine, and the best Beetle-killer ! Hilda {with happy, wondering eyes) . Lots of Beetle-killer? And you will give some of it to her, to make her free and buoyant. I think one really has the right — when people happen to stand in the way ! Dr. Herdal. Yes, you may well say so, Hilda. Still — {dubi- 2IO J//v\ PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN, act in. ously) — it docs occur to me that such doings may perhaps be misunderstood — by the narrow-minded and conventional. \_They ^i^v on the /aicii, and sit down. Hilda {^tnth an outburst). Oh, that all seems to me so foolish — so irrele- vant ! As if the whole thing wasn't intended as an Allegory ! Dr. Herdai. {relieved^. Ah, so long as it is merely allegorical, of course But what is it an allegory of, Hilda? Hilda {^reflects in vain). How can you sit there and ask such questions? I suppose I am a symbol, of some sort. ACT III. PILL-DOCTOR HERBAL. 211 Dr. Herdal {as a thought flashes upon him). A cymbal? That would certainly account for your bra Then am /a cymbal too, Hilda? Hilda. Why yes — what else ? You represent the Artist-worker, or the Elder Generation, or the Pursuit of the Ideal, or a Bilious Conscience — or something or other. J t;//re all right ! Dr. Herdal {shakes his head). Am I ? But I don't quite see Well, well, cymbals are meant to clash a little. And I see plainly now that I ought to prescribe this powder for as many as possible. Isn't it terrible, Hilda, that so many poor souls never really die their own deaths — pass out of the world without even the 212 MR. PUNCH'S I'OCK'ET IHSEN. act iii. formality of an inquest? As the district Coroner, I feel strongly on the subject. Hilda. And, when the Coroner has finished sitting on all the bodies, perhaps — but I shan't tell you now. {Speaks as if to a chihf.) There, run away and finish making the Rainbow-powder, do ! Dr. Herdal {^skips up into the Dispensary). I will — I will ! Oh, I do feel such a troll — such a light-haired, light-headed old devil ! RiJBUB {enters garden-gate). I have had my dismissal — but I'm not going without saying good-bye to Mrs. Herdal. Till HA. Dr. Herdal would disapprove — you really must not, Mr. Kalomcl. .Vnd, besides, Mrs. Herdal is ACT III. PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 213 not at home. She is in the town buying me a reel of cotton. Dr. Herdal is in. He is making real Rainbow- powders for regenerating everybody all around. Won't ///'- PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN. act in. Hilda {si/Iky). T'm ;/('/ a lark — I'm a IJird of T'rcy — and, when I get my claws into anything ! The New Assistant. Macaroons, for instance? I remember your tastes of old. See, Nora ! {Produces a papcr- />ag from his coat-tail pocket.') They were fresh this morning ! H I LDA ( loavering) . If you insist on calling me Nora, I think you must be just a little mad yourself. The New Assistant. We are all a little mad — in Norway. But Torvald Helmcr is sane enough still to recognise his own little squirrel again ! Surely, Nora, your ACT III. . PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL. 225 education is complete at last — you have gained the experience you needed? Hilda {nods slow/y). Yes, Torvald, you're right enough there. I have thought things out for myself, and have got clear about them. And I have quite made up my mind that Society and the Law are all wrong, and that I am right. Helmer {overjoyed). Then you hwc'e learned the Great Lesson, and are fit to undertake the charge of your children's education at last ! You've no notion how they've grown ! Yes, Nora, our marriage will be a true marriage now. You will come back to the DoU's- House, won't you? 226 MR. rUNC/rS POCKET IBSEN, act iii. 1 Iii.da-Nora-Helmer-Wangel (Jiesitates). Will you let me forge cheques if I do, Torvald? Helmer {ardently). All day. And at night, Nora, we will falsify the accounts — together ! Hilda-Nora-Helmer-Wangel {throws herself into * his arms, ami helps herself to macaroons) . That will be fearfully thrilling ! My — mv Manager 1 Dr. Herdal {comes out, very pale, from Dis- pensary). Hilda, I dill take the I'm afraid I inter- rupt you? ACT III. PILL-DOCTOR HERBAL. 227 Helmer. Not in the least. But this lady is my little lark, and she is going back to her cage by the next steamer. Dr. Herdal {bitterly). Am I never to have a gleam of happiness — ? But stay — do I see my little Senna once more ? RiJBUB. Pardon me — my little Senna. She always be- lieved so firmly in my pill ! Dr. Herdal. Well — well. If it must be. Riibub, I will take you into partnership, and we will take out a patent for that pill, jointly. Aline, my poor dear Aline, let us try once more if we cannot bring a ray of brightness into our cheerless home ! 228 MA'. J'rXCI/'S POCK'KT IBSEX. \c\\\\. Mrs. Herdal. Oh, Haustus, if only we coii/d — but why do you propose that to me — noio ? Dr. Hi'.rdal {^softly — to himself) . Because I have tried being a troll — and found that nothing, came of it, and it wasn't worth sixpence ! [Hii.DA-NoRA goes off to the rii^ht icith Helmer ; Senna to the /eft with Ruhuis : Dr. Herdal and Mrs. Herdai, sit on two of the galvanised ij'on-chairs, and sJiake tlieir /leads disconso- lately as the Curtain falls. THE END. THE WORKS OF William Winter. SHAKESPEARE'S ENGLAND, i8mo, Cloth, 75 Cents. GRAY DAYS AND GOLD. i8mo, Cloth, 75 Cents. SHADOWS OF THE STAGE. i8mo, Cloth, 75 Cents. SHADOWS OF THE STAGE. Second Series. i8mo, Cloth, 75 Cents. OLD SHRINES AND IVY. iSmo, Cloth, 75 Cents. Also a Small Limited Large P.\per Edition. 4 Vols. Uniform. $8.00. WANDERERS: A Collection of Poems. New Edi- tion. With .\ Portrait. iSmo, Cloth, 75 Cents. " The supreme need of this age in America is a practical conviction that progress does not consist in material prosperity, but in spiritual advancement. Utility has long been exclusively \vor.shipped. The welfare of the future lies in the worship of beauty. 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" Over and above all this, there is in these writ- ings the same charm of style, poetic glamour and flavor of personality which distinguish whatever comes to us from Mr. Winter's pen, and which make them unique in our literature." — Home Journal, New York. MACMILLAN & CO., 112 Fourth Avenue, NEW YORK. (3) OLD SHRINES AND IVY. i8mo, Cloth, 75 Cents. CONTENTS. SHRINES OF HISTORY. I. Storied Southampton. II. Pageantry and Relics. III. The Shakespeare Church. IV. A Stratford Chronicle. V. From London to Dover. VI. Beauties of France. VII. Ely and its Cathedral. VIII. From Edinburgh to Inverness. IX. The Field of Culloden. X. Stormbound lona. SHRINES OF LITERATURE. XI The Forest of Arden : As You Like It. XII. FairyLand: A Midsummer Night's Dream. XIII. Will 0' the Wisp: Love's Labour Lost. XIV. Shakespeare's Shrew. XV. A Mad World: Anthony and Cleopatra. XVI. Sheridan, and the School for Scandal. XVII. Farquhar, and the Inconstant. XVIll. Longfellow. XIX. A Thought on Cooper's Novels. XX. A Man of Letters: John R. G. Hassard. " Whatever Willi.Tin Winter writes is mnrked by felic- ity of diction and by refinement of style, as well as by the evidence of cultnre and wide reading. ' Old Shrines and Ivy' is an excellent example of the charm of his work." — Boston Courier. MACMILLAN & CO., 112 Fourth Avenue, NEW YORK. (4) SHAKESPEARE'S ENGLAND. 18.M0, Cloth, 75 Cents. "... It was the author's wish, in dwelling thus upon the rural loveliness, and the literary and historical associations of that delightful realm, to afford sympa- thetic guidance and useful suggestion to other Ameri- can travellers who, like himself, might be attracted to roam among the shrines of the mother-land. Tempera- ment is the explanation of style; and he has written thus of England because she has filled his mind with beauty and his heart with mingled joy and sadness; and surely some memory of her venerable ruins, her ancient shrines, her rustic glens, her gleaming rivers, and her flower-spangled meadows will mingle with the last thoughts that glimmer through his brain when the shadows of the eternal night are falling and the ramble of life is done." — From the Preface. " He offers something more than guidance to the American traveller. He is a convincing and eloquent interpreter of the august memories and venerable sanc- tities of the old country." — Saturday Review. " The book is delightful reading." — Scribner\ monthly. " Enthusiastic and yet keenly critical notes and com ments on English life and scenery." — Scotsman. MACMILLAN & CO., 112 Fourth Avenue, NEW YORK. (5) GRAY DAYS AND GOLD. i8mo, Cloth, 75 Ci:nts. CONTENTS, Classic Shrines. Haunted Glens and Houses. 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"Mr. Winter's graceful and meditative style in his English sketches has recommended his earlier volume upon (Shakespeare's) England to many readers, who will not need urging to make the acquaintance of this companion book, in which the traveller guides us through the quiet and romantic scenery of the mother- country with a mingled affection and sentiment^ of which we have had no example since Irving's day." — The Nation. " As friendly and good-humoured a book on English scenes as any American has written since Washington Irving." — Daily Neivs, London. " Much that is bright and best in our literature is brought once more to our dulled memories. Indeed, we know of but few volumes containing so much of observation, kindly comment, philosophy, and artistic weight as this unpretentious little book." — Chicago Herald. 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