Open the door?
HILDA.
Yes. Let them come in to you on friendly terms, as it were.
SOLNESS.
No, no, no! The younger generation--it means retribution, you see. It
comes, as if under a new banner, heralding the turn of fortune.
HILDA.
[Rises, looks at him, and says with a quivering twitch of her lips.] Can
_I_ be of any use to you, Mr. Solness?
SOLNESS.
Yes, you can indeed! For you, too, come--under a new banner it seems to
me. You marshalled against youth--!
DR. HERDAL comes in by the hall-door.
DR. HERDAL.
What--you and Miss Wangel here still?
SOLNESS.
Yes. We have had no end of things to talk about.
HILDA.
Both old and new.
DR. HERDAL.
Have you really?
HILDA.
Oh, it has been the greatest fun. For Mr. Solness--he has such a
miraculous memory. All the least little details he remembers instantly.
MRS. SOLNESS enters by the door on the right.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Well, Miss Wangel, your room is quite ready for you now.
HILDA.
Oh, how kind you are to me!
SOLNESS.
[To MRS. SOLNESS.] The nursery?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, the middle one. But first let us go in to supper.
SOLNESS.
[Nods to HILDA.] Hilda shall sleep in the nursery, she shall.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looks at him.] Hilda?
SOLNESS.
Yes, Miss Wangel's name is Hilda. I knew her when she was a child.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Did you really, Halvard? Well, shall we go?
[She takes DR. HERDAL's arm and goes out with him to the
right. HILDA has meanwhile been collecting her travelling
things.
HILDA.
[Softly and rapidly to SOLNESS.] Is it true, what you said? Can I be of
use to you?
SOLNESS.
[Takes the things from her.] You are the very being I have needed most.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with happy, wondering eyes and clasps her hands.] But
then, great heavens--!
SOLNESS.
[Eagerly.] What--?
HILDA.
Then I have my kingdom!
SOLNESS.
[Involuntarily.] Hilda--!
HILDA.
[Again with the quivering twitch of her lips.] Almost--I was going to
say.
[She goes out to the right, SOLNESS follows her.
ACT SECOND.
A prettily furnished small drawing-room in SOLNESS'S house.
In the back, a glass-door leading out to the verandah and
garden. The right-hand corner is cut off transversely by
a large bay-window, in which are flower-stands. The left-
hand corner is similarly cut off by a transverse wall, in
which is a small door papered like the wall. On each side,
an ordinary door. In front, on the right, a console table
with a large mirror over it. Well-filled stands of plants
and flowers. In front, on the left, a sofa with a table
and chairs. Further back, a bookcase. Well forward in the
room, before the bay window, a small table and some chairs.
It is early in the day.
SOLNESS sits by the little table with RAGNAR BROVIK'S
portfolio open in front of him. He is turning the drawings
over and closely examining some of them. MRS. SOLNESS moves
about noiselessly with a small watering-pot, attending to her
flowers. She is dressed in black as before. Her hat, cloak
and parasol lie on a chair near the mirror. Unobserved by her,
SOLNESS now and again follows her with his eyes. Neither of
them speaks.
KAIA FOSLI enters quietly by the door on the left.
SOLNESS.
[Turns his head, and says in an off-hand tone of indifference:] Well, is
that you?
KAIA.
I merely wished to let you know that I have come.
SOLNESS.
Yes, yes, that's all right. Hasn't Ragnar come too?
KAIA.
No, not yet. He had to wait a little while to see the doctor. But he is
coming presently to hear--
SOLNESS.
How is the old man to-day?
KAIA.
Not well. He begs you to excuse him; he is obliged to keep his bed
to-day.
SOLNESS.
Why, of course; by all means let him rest. But now, get to your work.
KAIA.
Yes. [Pauses at the door.] Do you wish to speak to Ragnar when he comes?
SOLNESS.
No--I don't know that I have anything particular to say to him.
[KAIA goes out again to the left. SOLNESS remains seated,
turning over the drawings.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Over beside the plants.] I wonder if he isn't going to die now, as
well?
SOLNESS.
[Looks up at her.] As well as who?
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Without answering.] Yes, yes--depend upon it, Halvard, old Brovik is
going to die too. You'll see that he will.
SOLNESS.
My dear Aline, ought you not to go out for a little walk?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, I suppose I ought to.
[She continues to attend the flowers.
SOLNESS.
[Bending over the drawings.] Is she still asleep?
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looking at him.] Is it Miss Wangel you are sitting there thinking
about?
SOLNESS.
[Indifferently.] I just happened to recollect her.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Miss Wangle was up long ago.
SOLNESS.
Oh, was she?
MRS. SOLNESS.
When I went in to see her, she was busy putting her things in order.
[She goes in front of the mirror and slowly begins to put on
her hat.
SOLNESS.
[After a short pause.] So we have found a use for one our nurseries
after all, Aline.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, we have.
SOLNESS.
That seems to me better than to have them all standing empty.
MRS. SOLNESS.
That emptiness is dreadful; you are right there.
SOLNESS.
[Closes the portfolio, rises and approaches her.] You will find that
we shall get on far better after this, Aline. Things will be more
comfortable. Life will be easier--especially for you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looks at him.] After this?
SOLNESS.
Yes, believe me, Aline--
MRS. SOLNESS.
Do you mean--because she has come here?
SOLNESS.
[Checking himself.] I mean, of course--when once we have moved into the
new home.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Takes her cloak.] Ah, do you think so, Halvard? Will it be better then?
SOLNESS.
I can't think otherwise. And surely you think so too?
MRS. SOLNESS.
I think nothing at all about the new house.
SOLNESS.
[Cast down.] It's hard for me to hear you say that; for you know it is
mainly for your sake that I have built it.
[He offers to help her on with her cloak.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Evades him.] The fact is, you do far too much for my sake.
SOLNESS.
[With a certain vehemence.] No, no, you really mustn't say that, Aline!
I cannot bear to hear you say such things!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Very well, then I won't say it, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
But I stick to what _I_ said. You'll see that things will be easier for
you in the new place.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, heavens--easier for me--!
SOLNESS.
[Eagerly.] Yes, indeed they will! You may be quite sure of that! For you
see--there will be so very, very much there that will remind you of your
own home--
MRS. SOLNESS.
The home that used to be father's and mother's--and that was burnt to
the ground--
SOLNESS.
[In a low voice.] Yes, yes, my poor Aline. That was a terrible blow for
you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Breaking out in lamentation.] You may build as much as ever you like,
Halvard--you can never build up again a real home for me!
SOLNESS.
[Crosses the room.] Well, in Heaven's name, let us talk no more about it
then.
MRS. SOLNESS.
We are not in the habit of talking about it. For you always put the
thought away from you--
SOLNESS.
[Stops suddenly and looks at her.] Do I? And why should I do that? Put
the thought away from me?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, Halvard, I understand you very well. You are so anxious to spare
me--and to find excuses for me too--as much as ever you can.
SOLNESS.
[With astonishment in his eyes.] You! Is it you--yourself, that your are
talking about, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, who else should it be but myself?
SOLNESS.
[Involuntarily to himself.] That too!
MRS. SOLNESS.
As for the old house, I wouldn't mind so much about that. When once
misfortune was in the air--why--
SOLNESS.
Ah, you are right there. Misfortune will have its way--as the saying
goes.
MRS. SOLNESS.
But it's what came of the fire--the dreadful thing that followed--! That
is the thing! That, that, that!
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Don't think about that, Aline!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Ah, that is exactly what I cannot help thinking about. And now, at last,
I must speak about it, too; for I don't seem to be able to bear it any
longer. And then never to be able to forgive myself--
SOLNESS.
[Exclaiming.] Yourself--!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, for I had duties on both sides--both towards you and towards the
little ones. I ought to have hardened myself--not to have let the
horror take such hold upon me--nor the grief for the burning of my home.
[Wrings her hands.] Oh, Halvard, if I had only had the strength!
SOLNESS.
[Softly, much moved, comes closer.] Aline--you must promise me never to
think these thoughts any more.--Promise me that, dear!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, promise, promise! One can promise anything.
SOLNESS.
[Clenches his hands and crosses the room.] Oh, but this is hopeless,
hopeless! Never a ray of sunlight! Not so much as a gleam of brightness
to light up our home!
MRS. SOLNESS.
This is no home, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
Oh no, you may well say that. [Gloomily.] And God knows whether you are
not right in saying that it will be no better for us in the new house,
either.
MRS. SOLNESS.
It will never be any better. Just as empty--just as desolate--there as
here.
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Why in all the world have we built it then? Can you tell
me that?
MRS. SOLNESS.
No; you must answer that question for yourself.
SOLNESS.
[Glances suspiciously at her.] What do you mean by that, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
What do I mean?
SOLNESS.
Yes, in the devil's name! You said it so strangely--as if you had some
hidden meaning in it.
MRS. SOLNESS.
No, indeed, I assure you--
SOLNESS.
[Comes closer.] Oh, come now--I know what I know. I have both my eyes
and my ears about me, Aline--you may depend upon that!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Why, what are you talking about? What is it?
SOLNESS.
[Places himself in front of her.] Do you mean to say you don't find a
kind of lurking, hidden meaning in the most innocent word I happen to
say?
MRS. SOLNESS.
_I_ do you say? _I_ do that?
SOLNESS.
[Laughs.] Ho-ho-ho! It's natural enough, Aline! When you have a sick man
on your hands--
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Anxiously.] Sick? Are you ill, Halvard?
SOLNESS.
[Violently.] A half-mad man then! A crazy man! Call me what you will.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Feels blindly for a chair and sits down.] Halvard--for God's sake--
SOLNESS.
But you are wrong, both you and the doctor. I am not in the state that
you imagine.
[He walks up and down the room. MRS. SOLNESS follows him
anxiously with her eyes. Finally he goes up to her.
SOLNESS.
[Calmly.] In reality there is nothing whatever the matter with me.
MRS. SOLNESS.
No, there isn't, is there? But then what is it that troubles you so?
SOLNESS.
Why this, that I often feel ready to sink under this terrible burden of
debt--
MRS. SOLNESS.
Debt, do you say? But you owe no one anything, Halvard!
SOLNESS.
[Softly, with emotion.] I owe a boundless debt to you--to you--to you,
Aline.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Rises slowly.] What is behind all this? You may just as well tell me at
once.
SOLNESS.
But there is nothing behind it! I have never done you any wrong--not
wittingly and willfully, at any rate. And yet--and yet it seems as
though a crushing debt rested upon me and weighed me down.
MRS. SOLNESS.
A debt to me?
SOLNESS.
Chiefly to you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Then you are--ill after all, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
[Gloomily.] I suppose I must be--or not far from it. [Looks towards the
door to the right, which is opened at this moment.] Ah! now it grows
light.
HILDA WANGEL comes in. She has made some alteration in her
dress, and let down her skirt.
HILDA.
Good morning, Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
[Nods.] Slept well?
HILDA.
Quite deliciously! Like a child in a cradle. Oh--I lay and stretched
myself like--like a princess!
SOLNESS.
[Smiles a little.] You were thoroughly comfortable then?
HILDA.
I should think so.
SOLNESS.
And no doubt you dreamed, too.
HILDA.
Yes, I did. But that was horrid.
SOLNESS.
Was it?
HILDA.
Yes, for I dreamed I was falling over a frightfully high, sheer
precipice. Do you never have that kind of dream?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes--now and then--
HILDA.
It's tremendously thrilling--when you fall and fall--
SOLNESS.
It seems to make one's blood run cold.
HILDA.
Do you draw your legs up under you while you are falling?
SOLNESS.
Yes, as high as ever I can.
HILDA.
So do I.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Takes her parasol.] I must go into town now, Halvard. [To HILDA.] And
I'll try to get one or two things that you may require.
HILDA.
[Making a motion to throw her arms round her neck.] Oh, you dear, Mrs.
Solness! You are really much too kind to me! Frightfully kind--
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Deprecatingly, freeing herself.] Oh, not at all. It's only my duty, so
I am very glad to do it.
HILDA.
[Offended, pouts.] But really, I think I am quite fit to be seen in the
streets--now that I've put my dress to rights. Or do you think I am not?
MRS. SOLNESS.
To tell you the truth, I think people would stare at you a little.
HILDA.
[Contemptuously.] Pooh! Is that all? That only amuses me.
SOLNESS.
[With suppressed ill-humour.] Yes, but people might take it into their
heads that you were mad too, you see.
HILDA.
Mad? Are there so many mad people here in town, then?
SOLNESS.
[Points to his own forehead.] Here you see one at all events.
HILDA.
You--Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
Have you not noticed that yet?
HILDA.
No, I certainly have not. [Reflects and laughs a little.] And
yet--perhaps in one single thing.
SOLNESS.
Ah, do you hear that, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
What is that one single thing, Miss Wangel?
HILDA.
No, I won't say.
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, do!
HILDA.
No thank you--I am not so mad as that.
MRS. SOLNESS.
When you and Miss Wangel are alone, I daresay she will tell you,
Halvard.
SOLNESS.
Ah--you think she will?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, certainly. For you have known her so well in the past. Ever
since she was a child--you tell me.
[She goes out by the door on the left.
HILDA.
[After a little while.] Does your wife dislike me very much?
SOLNESS.
Did you think you noticed anything of the kind?
HILDA.
Did you notice it yourself?
SOLNESS.
[Evasively.] Aline has become exceedingly shy with strangers of late
years.
HILDA.
Has she really?
SOLNESS.
But if only you could get to know her thoroughly--! Ah, she is so
good--so kind--so excellent a creature--
HILDA.
[Impatiently.] But if she is all that--what made her say that about her
duty?
SOLNESS.
Her duty?
HILDA.
She said that she would go out and buy something for me, because it was
her duty. Oh, I can't bear that ugly, horrid word!
SOLNESS.
Why not?
HILDA.
It sounds so could and sharp, and stinging. Duty--duty--duty. Don't you
think so, too? Doesn't it seem to sting you?
SOLNESS.
H'm--haven't thought much about it.
HILDA.
Yes, it does. And if she is so good--as you say she is--why should she
talk in that way?
SOLNESS.
But, good Lord, what would you have had her say, then?
HILDA.
She might have said she would do it because she had taken a tremendous
fancy to me. She might have said something like that--something really
warm and cordial, you understand.
SOLNESS.
[Looks at her.] Is that how you would like to have it?
HILDA.
Yes, precisely. [She wanders about the room, stops at the bookcase and
looks at the books.] What a lot of books you have.
SOLNESS.
Yes, I have got together a good many.
HILDA.
Do you read them all, too?
SOLNESS.
I used to try to. Do you read much?
HILDA.
No, never! I have given it up. For it all seems so irrelevant.
SOLNESS.
That is just my feeling.
[HILDA wanders about a little, stops at the small table, opens
the portfolio and turns over the contents.
HILDA.
Are all these your drawings yours?
SOLNESS.
No, they are drawn by a young man whom I employ to help me.
HILDA.
Some one you have taught?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, no doubt he has learnt something from me, too.
HILDA.
[Sits down.] Then I suppose he is very clever. [Looks at a drawing.]
Isn't he?
SOLNESS.
Oh, he might be worse. For my purpose--
HILDA.
Oh yes--I'm sure he is frightfully clever.
SOLNESS.
Do you think you can see that in the drawings?
HILDA.
Pooh--these scrawlings! But if he has been learning from you--
SOLNESS.
Oh, so far as that goes--there are plenty of people here that have
learnt from me, and have come to little enough for all that.
HILDA.
[Looks at him and shakes her head.] No, I can't for the life of me
understand how you can be so stupid.
SOLNESS.
Stupid? Do you think I am so very stupid?
HILDA.
Yes, I do indeed. If you are content to go about here teaching all these
people--
SOLNESS.
[With a slight start.] Well, and why not?
HILDA.
[Rises, half serious, half laughing.] No indeed, Mr. Solness! What can
be the good of that? No one but you should be allowed to build. You
should stand quite alone--do it all yourself. Now you know it.
SOLNESS.
[Involuntarily.] Hilda--!
HILDA.
Well!
SOLNESS.
How in the world did that come into your head?
HILDA.
Do you think I am so very far wrong then?
SOLNESS.
No, that's not what I mean. But now I'll tell you something.
HILDA.
Well?
SOLNESS.
I keep on--incessantly--in silence and alone--brooding on that very
thought.
HILDA.
Yes, that seems to me perfectly natural.
SOLNESS.
[Looks somewhat searchingly at her.] Perhaps you have noticed it
already?
HILDA.
No, indeed I haven't.
SOLNESS.
But just now--when you said you thought I was--off my balance? In one
thing, you said--
HILDA.
Oh, I was thinking of something quite different.
SOLNESS.
What was it?
HILDA.
I am not going to tell you.
SOLNESS.
[Crosses the room.] Well, well--as you please. [Stops at the
bow-window.] Come here, and I will show you something.
HILDA.
[Approaching.] What is it?
SOLNESS.
Do you see over here in the garden--?
HILDA.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
[Points.] Right above the great quarry--?
HILDA.
That new house, you mean?
SOLNESS.
The one that is being built, yes. Almost finished.
HILDA.
It seems to have a very high tower.
SOLNESS.
The scaffolding is still up.
HILDA.
Is that your new house?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
The house you are soon going to move into?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
[Looks at him.] Are there nurseries in that house, too?
SOLNESS.
Three, as there are here.
HILDA.
And no child.
SOLNESS.
And there never will be one.
HILDA.
[With a half-smile.] Well, isn't it just as I said--?
SOLNESS.
That--?
HILDA.
That you are a little--a little mad after all.
SOLNESS.
Was that what you were thinking of?
HILDA.
Yes, of all the empty nurseries I slept in.
SOLNESS.
[Lowers his voice.] We have had children--Aline and I.
HILDA.
[Looks eagerly at him.] Have you--?
SOLNESS.
Two little boys. They were of the same age.
HILDA.
Twins, then.
SOLNESS.
Yes, twins. It's eleven or twelve years ago now.
HILDA.
[Cautiously.] And so both of them--? You have lost both the twins, then?
SOLNESS.
[With quiet emotion.] We kept them only about three weeks. Or scarcely
so much. [Bursts forth.] Oh, Hilda, I can't tell you what a good thing
it is for me that you have come! For now at last I have some one to talk
to!
HILDA.
Can you not talk to--her, too?
SOLNESS.
Not about this. Not as I want to talk and must talk. [Gloomily.] And not
about so many other things, either.
HILDA.
[In a subdued voice.] Was that all you meant when you said you need me?
SOLNESS.
That was mainly what I meant--at all events, yesterday. For to-day I am
not so sure--[Breaking off.] Come here and let us sit down, Hilda. Sit
there on the sofa--so that you can look into the garden. [HILDA seats
herself in the corner of the sofa. SOLNESS brings a chair closer.]
Should you like to hear about it?
HILDA.
Yes, I shall love to sit and listen to you.
SOLNESS.
[Sits down.] Then I will tell you all about it.
HILDA.
Now I can see both the garden and you, Mr. Solness. So now, tell away!
Begin!
SOLNESS.
[Points towards the bow-window.] Out there on the rising ground--where
you see the new house--
HILDA.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
Aline and I lived there in the first years of our married life. There
was an old house up there that had belonged to her mother; and we
inherited it, and the whole of the great garden with it.
HILDA.
Was there a tower on that house, too?
SOLNESS.
No, nothing of the kind. From the outside it looked like a great, dark,
ugly wooden box; but all the same, it was snug and comfortable enough
inside.
HILDA.
Then did you pull down the ramshackle old place?
SOLNESS.
No, it was burnt down.
HILDA.
The whole of it?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
Was that a great misfortune for you?
SOLNESS.
That depends on how you look at it. As a builder, the fire was the
making of me--
HILDA.
Well, but--
SOLNESS.
It was just after the birth of the two little boys--
HILDA.
The poor little twins, yes.
SOLNESS.
They came healthy and bonny into the world. And they were growing
too--you could see the difference day to day.
HILDA.
Little children do grow quickly at first.
SOLNESS.
It was the prettiest sight in the world to see Aline lying with the two
of them in her arms.--But then came the night of the fire--
HILDA.
[Excitedly.] What happened? Do tell me! Was any one burnt?
SOLNESS.
No, not that. Every one got safe and sound out of the house--
HILDA.
Well, and what then--?
SOLNESS.
The fright had shaken Aline terribly. The alarm--the escape--the
break-neck hurry--and then the ice-cold night air--for they had to be
carried out just as they lay--both she and the little ones.
HILDA.
Was it too much for them?
SOLNESS.
Oh no, they stood it well enough. But Aline fell into a fever, and it
affected her milk. She would insist on nursing them herself; because it
was her duty, she said. And both our little boys, they--[Clenching his
hands.]--they--oh!
HILDA.
They did not get over that?
SOLNESS.
No, that they did not get over. That was how we lost them.
HILDA.
It must have been terribly hard for you.
SOLNESS.
Hard enough for me; but ten time harder for Aline. [Clenching his hands
in suppressed fury.] Oh, that such things should be allowed to happen
here the world! [Shortly and firmly.] From the day I lost them, I had no
heart for building churches.
HILDA.
Did you not like building the church-tower in our town?
SOLNESS.
I didn't like it. I know how free and happy I felt when that tower was
finished.
HILDA.
_I_ know that, too.
SOLNESS.
And now I shall never--never build anything of that sort again! Neither
churches nor church-towers.
HILDA.
[Nods slowly.] Nothing but houses for people to live in.
SOLNESS.
Homes for human beings, Hilda.
HILDA.
But homes with high towers and pinnacles upon them.
SOLNESS.
If possible. [Adopts a lighter tone.] But, as I said before, that fire
was the making of me--as a builder, I mean.
HILDA.
Why don't you call yourself an architect, like the others?
SOLNESS.
I have not been systematically enough taught for that. Most of what I
know I have found out for myself.
HILDA.
But you succeeded all the same.
SOLNESS.
Yes, thanks to the fire. I laid out almost the whole of the garden in
villa lots; and there I was able to build after my own heart. So I came
to the front with a rush.
HILDA.
[Looks keenly at him.] You must surely be a very happy man, as matters
stand with you.
SOLNESS.
[Gloomily.] Happy? Do you say that, too--like all the rest of them?
HILDA.
Yes, I should say you must be. If you could only cease thing about the
two little children--
SOLNESS.
[Slowly.] The two little children--they are not so easy to forget,
Hilda.
HILDA.
[Somewhat uncertainly.] Do you still feel their loss so much--after all
these years?
SOLNESS.
[Looks fixedly at her, without replying.] A happy man you said--
HILDA.
Well, now, are you not happy--in other respects?
SOLNESS.
[Continues to look at her.] When I told you all this about the
fire--h'm--
HILDA.
Well?
SOLNESS.
Was there not one special thought that you--that you seized upon?
HILDA.
[Reflects in vain.] No. What thought should that be?
SOLNESS.
[With subdued emphasis.] It was simply and solely by that fire that I
was enabled to build homes for human beings. Cosy, comfortable, bright
homes, where father and mother and the whole troop of children can live
in safety and gladness, feeling what a happy thing it is to be alive in
the world--and most of all to belong to each other--in great things and
in small.
HILDA.
[Ardently.] Well, and is it not a great happiness for you to be able to
build such beautiful homes?
SOLNESS.
The price, Hilda! The terrible price I had to pay for the opportunity!
HILDA.
But can you never get over that?
SOLNESS.
No. That I might build homes for others, I had to forego--to forego
for all time--the home that might have been my own. I mean a home for a
troop of children--and for father and mother, too.
HILDA.
[Cautiously.] But need you have done that? For all time, you say?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] That was the price of this happiness that people talk
about. [Breathes heavily.] This happiness--h'm--this happiness was not
to be bought any cheaper, Hilda.
HILDA.