SOLNESS.
Never in this world--never. That is another consequence of the fire--and
of Aline's illness afterwards.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with an indefinable expression.] And yet you build all
these nurseries.
SOLNESS.
[Seriously.] Have you never noticed, Hilda, how the impossible--how it
seems to beckon and cry aloud to one?
HILDA.
[Reflecting.] The impossible? [With animation.] Yes, indeed! Is that how
you feel too?
SOLNESS.
Yes, I do.
HILDA.
Then there must be--a little of the troll in you too.
SOLNESS.
Why of the troll?
HILDA.
What would you call it, then?
SOLNESS.
[Rises.] Well, well, perhaps you are right. [Vehemently.] But how can
I help turning into a troll, when this is how it always goes with me in
everything--in everything!
HILDA.
How do you mean?
SOLNESS.
[Speaking low, with inward emotion.] Mark what I say to you, Hilda.
All that I have succeeded in doing, building, creating--all the beauty,
security, cheerful comfort--ay, and magnificence too--[Clenches his
hands.] Oh, is it not terrible even to think of--?
HILDA.
What is so terrible?
SOLNESS.
That all this I have to make up for, to pay for--not in money, but in
human happiness. And not with my own happiness only, but with other
people's too. Yes, yes, do you see that, Hilda? That is the price which
my position as an artist has cost me--and others. And every single day
I have to look on while the price is paid for me anew. Over again, and
over again--and over again for ever!
HILDA.
[Rises and looks steadily at him.] Now I can see that you are thinking
of--of her.
SOLNESS.
Yes, mainly of Aline. For Aline--she, too, had her vocation in life,
just as much as I had mine. [His voice quivers.] But her vocation has
had to be stunted, and crushed, and shattered--in order that mine might
force its way to--to a sort of great victory. For you must know that
Aline--she, too, had a talent for building.
HILDA.
She! For building?
SOLNESS.
[Shakes his head.] Not houses and towers, and spires--not such things as
I work away at--
HILDA.
Well, but what then?
SOLNESS.
[Softly, with emotion.] For building up the souls of little children,
Hilda. For building up children's souls in perfect balance, and in
noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect and
full-grown human souls. That was Aline's talent. And there it all
lies now--unused and unusable for ever--of no earthly service to any
one--just like the ruins left by a fire.
HILDA.
Yes, but even if this were so--?
SOLNESS.
It is so! It is so! I know it!
HILDA.
Well, but in any case it is not your fault.
SOLNESS.
[Fixes his eyes on her, and nods slowly.] Ah, that is the great, the
terrible question. That is the doubt that is gnawing me--night and day.
HILDA.
That?
SOLNESS.
Yes. Suppose the fault was mine--in a certain sense.
HILDA.
Your fault! The fire!
SOLNESS.
All of it; the whole thing. And yet, perhaps--I may not have had
anything to do with it.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with a troubled expression.] Oh, Mr. Solness--if you can
talk like that, I am afraid you must be--ill after all.
SOLNESS.
H'm--I don't think I shall ever be of quite sound mind on that point.
RAGNAR BROVIK cautiously opens the little door in the left-
hand corner. HILDA comes forward.
RAGNAR.
[When he sees Hilda.] Oh. I beg pardon, Mr. Solness---- [He makes a
movement to withdraw.
SOLNESS.
No, no, don't go. Let us get it over.
RAGNAR.
Oh, yes--if only we could.
SOLNESS.
I hear your father is no better?
RAGNAR.
Father is fast growing weaker--and therefore I beg and implore you to
write a few kind words for me on one of the plans! Something for father
to read before he--
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] I won't hear anything more about those drawings of yours!
RAGNAR.
Have you looked at them?
SOLNESS.
Yes--I have.
RAGNAR.
And they are good for nothing? And _I_ am good for nothing, too?
SOLNESS.
[Evasively.] Stay here with me, Ragnar. You shall have everything your
own way. And then you can marry Kaia, and live at your ease--and happily
too, who knows? Only don't think of building on your own account.
RAGNAR.
Well, well, then I must go home and tell father what you say--I promised
I would.--Is this what I am to tell father--before he dies?
SOLNESS.
[With a groan.] Oh tell him--tell him what you will, for me. Best to say
nothing at all to him! [With a sudden outburst.] I cannot do anything
else, Ragnar!
RAGNAR.
May I have the drawings to take with me?
SOLNESS.
Yes, take them--take them by all means! They are lying there on the
table.
RAGNAR.
[Goes to the table.] Thanks.
HILDA.
[Puts her hand on the portfolio.] No, no; leave them here.
SOLNESS.
Why?
HILDA.
Because I want to look at them, too.
SOLNESS.
But you have been---- [To RAGNAR.] Well, leave them here, then.
RAGNAR.
Very well.
SOLNESS.
And go home at once to your father.
RAGNAR.
Yes, I suppose I must.
SOLNESS.
[As if in desperation.] Ragnar--you must not ask me to do what is beyond
my power! Do you hear, Ragnar? You must not!
RAGNAR.
No, no. I beg you pardon--
[He bows, and goes out by the corner door. HILDA goes over and
sits down on a chair near the mirror.
HILDA.
[Looks angrily at SOLNESS.] That was a very ugly thing to do.
SOLNESS.
Do you think so, too?
HILDA.
Yes, it was horribly ugly--and hard and bad and cruel as well.
SOLNESS.
Oh, you don't understand my position.
HILDA.
No matter--. I say you ought not to be like that.
SOLNESS.
You said yourself, only just now, that no one but _I_ ought to be
allowed to build.
HILDA.
_I_ may say such things--but you must not.
SOLNESS.
I most of all, surely, who have paid so dear for my position.
HILDA.
Oh yes--with what you call domestic comfort--and that sort of thing.
SOLNESS.
And with my peace of soul into the bargain.
HILDA.
[Rising.] Peace of soul! [With feeling.] Yes, yes, you are right in
that! Poor Mr. Solness--you fancy that--
SOLNESS.
[With a quiet, chuckling laugh.] Just sit down again, Hilda, and I'll
tell you something funny.
HILDA.
[Sits down; with intent interest.] Well?
SOLNESS.
It sounds such a ludicrous little thing; for, you see, the whole story
turns upon nothing but a crack in the chimney.
HILDA.
No more than that?
SOLNESS.
No, not to begin with.
[He moves a chair nearer to HILDA and sits down.
HILDA.
[Impatiently, taps on her knee.] Well, now for the crack in the chimney!
SOLNESS.
I had noticed the split in the flue long, long before the fire. Every
time I went up into the attic, I looked to see if it was still there.
HILDA.
And it was?
SOLNESS.
Yes; for no one else knew about it.
HILDA.
And you said nothing?
SOLNESS.
Nothing.
HILDA.
And did not think of repairing the flue either?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, I thought about it--but never got any further. Every time I
intended to set to work, it seemed just as if a hand held me back. Not
to-day, I thought--to-morrow; and nothing ever came of it.
HILDA.
But why did you keep putting it off like that?
SOLNESS.
Because I was revolving something in my mind. [Slowly, and in a low
voice.] Through that little black crack in the chimney, I might,
perhaps, force my way upwards--as a builder.
HILDA.
[Looking straight in front of her.] That must have been thrilling.
SOLNESS.
Almost irresistible--quite irresistible. For at that time it appeared
to me a perfectly simple and straightforward matter. I would have had
it happen in the winter-time--a little before midday. I was to be out
driving Aline in the sleigh. The servants at home would have made huge
fires in the stoves.
HILDA.
For, of course, it was to be bitterly cold that day?
SOLNESS.
Rather biting, yes--and they would want Aline to find it thoroughly snug
and warm when she came home.
HILDA.
I suppose she is very chilly by nature?
SOLNESS.
She is. And as we drove home, we were to see the smoke.
HILDA.
Only the smoke?
SOLNESS.
The smoke first. But when we came up to the garden gate, the whole of
the old timber-box was to be a rolling mass of flames.--That is how I
wanted it to be, you see.
HILDA.
Oh, why, why could it not have happened so!
SOLNESS.
You may well say that, Hilda.
HILDA.
Well, but now listen, Mr. Solness. Are you perfectly certain that the
fire was caused by that little crack in the chimney!
SOLNESS.
No, on the contrary--I am perfectly certain that the crack in the
chimney had nothing whatever to do with the fire.
HILDA.
What!
SOLNESS.
It has been clearly ascertained that the fire broke out in a
clothes-cupboard--in a totally different part of the house.
HILDA.
Then what is all this nonsense you are talking about the crack in the
chimney!
SOLNESS.
May I go on talking to you a little, Hilda?
HILDA.
Yes, if you'll only talk sensibly--
SOLNESS.
I will try to. [He moves his chair nearer.
HILDA.
Out with it, then, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
[Confidentially.] Don't you agree with me, Hilda, that there exist
special, chosen people who have been endowed with the power and
faculty if desiring a thing, craving for a thing, willing a thing--so
persistently and so--so inexorably--that at last it has to happen? Don't
you believe that?
HILDA.
[With an indefinable expression in her eyes.] If that is so, we shall
see, one of these days, whether _I_ am one of the chosen.
SOLNESS.
It is not one's self alone that can do such great things. Oh, no--the
helpers and the servers--they must do their part too, if it is to be of
any good. But they never come of themselves. One has to call upon them
very persistently--inwardly, you understand.
HILDA.
What are these helpers and servers?
SOLNESS.
Oh, we can talk about that some other time. For the present, let us keep
to this business of the fire.
HILDA.
Don't you think that fire would have happened all the same--even without
your wishing for it?
SOLNESS.
If the house had been old Knut Brovik's, it would never have burnt down
so conveniently for him. I am sure of that; for he does not know how
to call for the helpers--no, nor for the servers, either. [Rises in
unrest.] So you see, Hilda--it is my fault, after all, that the lives of
the two little boys had to be sacrificed. And do you think it is not
my fault, too, that Aline has never been the woman she should and might
have been--and that she most longed to be?
HILDA.
Yes, but if it is all the work of these helpers and servers--?
SOLNESS.
Who called for the helpers and servers? It was I! And they came and
obeyed my will. [In increasing excitement.] That is what people call
having the luck on your side; but I must tell you what this sort of luck
feels like! It feels like a great raw place here on my breast. And the
helpers and servers keep on flaying pieces of skin off other people in
order to close my sore!--But still the sore is not healed--never, never!
Oh, if you knew how it can sometimes gnaw and burn!
HILDA.
[Looks attentively at him.] You are ill, Mr. Solness. Very ill, I almost
think.
SOLNESS.
Say mad; for that is what you mean.
HILDA.
No, I don't think there is much amiss with your intellect.
SOLNESS.
With what then? Out with it!
HILDA.
I wonder whether you were not sent into the world with a sickly
conscience.
SOLNESS.
A sickly conscience? What devilry is that?
HILDA.
I mean that your conscience is feeble--too delicately built, as it
were--hasn't strength to take a grip of things--to lift and bear what is
heavy.
SOLNESS.
[Growls.] H'm! May I ask, then, what sort of a conscience one ought to
have?
HILDA.
I should like your conscience to be--to be thoroughly robust.
SOLNESS.
Indeed? Robust, eh? Is your own conscience robust, may I ask?
HILDA.
Yes, I think it is. I have never noticed that it wasn't.
SOLNESS.
It has not been put very severely to the test, I should think.
HILDA.
[With a quivering of the lips.] Oh, it was no such simple matter to
leave father--I am so awfully fond of him.
SOLNESS.
Dear me! for a month or two--
HILDA.
I think I shall never go home again.
SOLNESS.
Never? Then why did you leave him?
HILDA.
[Half-seriously, half-banteringly.] Have you forgotten again that the
ten year are up?
SOLNESS.
Oh nonsense. Was anything wrong at home? Eh?
HILDA.
[Quite seriously.] It was this impulse within me that urged and goaded
me to come--and lured and drew me on, as well.
SOLNESS.
[Eagerly.] There we have it! There we have it, Hilda! There is the troll
in you too, as in me. For it's the troll in one, you see--it is that
that calls to the powers outside us. And then you must give in--whether
you will or no.
HILDA.
I almost think you are right, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
[Walks about the room.] Oh, there are devils innumerable abroad in the
world, Hilda, that one never sees.
HILDA.
Devils, too?
SOLNESS.
[Stops.] Good devils and bad devils; light-haired devils and
black-haired devils. If only you could always tell whether it is the
light or dark ones that have got hold of you! [Paces about.] Ho-ho! Then
it would be simple enough!
HILDA.
[Follows him with her eyes.] Or if one had a really vigorous, radiantly
healthy conscience--so that one dared to do what one would.
SOLNESS.
[Stops beside the console table.] I believe, now, that most people are
just as puny creatures as I am in that respect.
HILDA.
I shouldn't wonder.
SOLNESS.
[Leaning against the table.] In the sagas--. Have you read any of the
old sagas?
HILDA.
Oh yes! When I used to read books, I--
SOLNESS.
In the sagas you read about vikings, who sailed to foreign lands, and
plundered and burned and killed men--
HILDA.
And carried off women--
SOLNESS. --and kept them in captivity--
HILDA. --took them home in their ships--
SOLNESS. --and behaved to them like--like the very worst of trolls.
HILDA.
[Looks straight before her, with a half-veiled look.] I think that must
have been thrilling.
SOLNESS.
[With a short, deep laugh.] To carry off women, eh?
HILDA.
To be carried off.
SOLNESS.
[Looks at her a moment.] Oh, indeed.
HILDA.
[As if breaking the thread of the conversation.] But what made you speak
of these vikings, Mr. Solness?
SOLNESS.
Why, those fellows must have had robust consciences, if you like!
When they got home again, they could eat and drink, and be as happy as
children. And the women, too! They often would not leave them on any
account. Can you understand that, Hilda?
HILDA.
Those women I can understand exceedingly well.
SOLNESS.
Oho! Perhaps you could do the same yourself?
HILDA.
Why not?
SOLNESS.
Live--of your own free will--with a ruffian like that?
HILDA.
If it was a ruffian I had come to love--
SOLNESS.
Could you come to love a man like that?
HILDA.
Good heavens, you know very well one can't choose whom one is going to
love.
SOLNESS.
[Looks meditatively at her.] Oh no, I suppose it is the troll within one
that's responsible for that.
HILDA.
[Half-laughing.] And all those blessed devils, that you know so
well--both the light-haired and the dark-haired ones.
SOLNESS.
[Quietly and warmly.] Then I hope with all my heart that the devils will
choose carefully for you, Hilda.
HILDA.
For me they have chosen already--once and for all.
SOLNESS.
[Looks earnestly at her.] Hilda--you are like a wild bird of the woods.
HILDA.
Far from it. I don't hide myself away under the bushes.
SOLNESS.
No, no. There is rather something of the bird of prey in you.
HILDA.
That is nearer it--perhaps. [Very vehemently.] And why not a bird of
prey? Why should not _I_ go a-hunting--I, as well as the rest? Carry off
the prey I want--if only I can get my claws into it, and do with it as I
will.
SOLNESS.
Hilda--do you know what you are?
HILDA.
Yes, I suppose I am a strange sort of bird.
SOLNESS.
No. You are like a dawning day. When I look at you--I seem to be looking
towards the sunrise.
HILDA.
Tell me, Mr. Solness--are you certain that you have never called me to
you? Inwardly, you know?
SOLNESS.
[Softly and slowly.] I almost think I must have.
HILDA.
What did you want with me?
SOLNESS.
You are the younger generation, Hilda.
HILDA.
[Smiles.] That younger generation that you are so afraid of?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] And which, in my heart, I yearn towards so deeply.
[HILDA rises, goes to the little table, and fetches RAGNAR
BROVIK'S portfolio.
HILDA.
[Holds out the portfolio to him.] We were talking of these drawings--
SOLNESS.
[Shortly, waving them away.] Put those things away! I have seen enough
of them.
HILDA.
Yes, but you have to write your approval on them.
SOLNESS.
Write my approval on them? Never!
HILDA.
But the poor old man is lying at death's door! Can't you give him and
his son this pleasure before they are parted? And perhaps he might get
the commission to carry them out, too.
SOLNESS.
Yes, that is just what he would get. He has made sure of that--has my
fine gentleman!
HILDA.
Then, good heavens--if that is so--can't you tell the least little bit
of a lie for once in a way?
SOLNESS.
A lie? [Raging.] Hilda--take those devil's drawings out of my sight!
HILDA.
[Draws the portfolio a little nearer to herself.] Well, well,
well--don't bite me.--You talk of trolls--but I think you go on like a
troll yourself. [Looks round.] Where do you keep your pen and ink?
SOLNESS.
There is nothing of the sort in here.
HILDA.
[Goes towards the door.] But in the office where that young lady is--
SOLNESS.
Stay where you are, Hilda!--I ought to tell a lie, you say. Oh yes, for
the sake of his old father I might well do that--for in my time I have
crushed him, trodden him under foot--
HILDA.
Him, too?
SOLNESS.
I needed room for myself. But this Ragnar--he must on no account be
allowed to come to the front.
HILDA.
Poor fellow, there is surely no fear of that. If he has nothing in him--
SOLNESS.
[Comes closer, looks at her, and whispers.] If Ragnar Brovik gets his
chance, he will strike me to the earth. Crush me--as I crushed his
father.
HILDA.
Crush you? Has he the ability for that?
SOLNESS.
Yes, you may depend upon it he has the ability! He is the younger
generation that stands ready to knock at my door--to make an end of
Halvard Solness.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with quiet reproach.] And yet you would bar him out. Fie,
Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
The fight I have been fighting has cost heart's blood enough.--And I am
afraid, too, that the helpers and servers will not obey me any longer.
HILDA.
Then you must go ahead without them. There is nothing else for it.
SOLNESS.
It is hopeless, Hilda. The luck is bound to turn. A little sooner or a
little later. Retribution is inexorable.
HILDA.
[In distress, putting her hands over her ears.] Don't talk like that! Do
you want to kill me? To take from me what is more than my life?
SOLNESS.
And what is that?
HILDA.
The longing to see you great. To see you, with a wreath in your hand,
high, high up upon a church-tower. [Calm again.] Come, out with your
pencil now. You must have a pencil about you?
SOLNESS.
[Takes out his pocket-book.] I have one here.
HILDA.
[Lays the portfolio on the sofa-table.] Very well. Now let us two sit
down here, Mr. Solness. [SOLNESS seats himself at the table. HILDA
stands behind him, leaning over the back of the chair.] And now we
well write on the drawings. We must write very, very nicely and
cordially--for this horrid Ruar--or whatever his name is.
SOLNESS.
[Writes a few words, turns his head and looks at her.] Tell me one
thing, Hilda.
HILDA.
Yes!
SOLNESS.
If you have been waiting for me all these ten years--
HILDA.
What then?
SOLNESS.
Why have you never written to me? Then I could have answered you.
HILDA.
[Hastily.] No, no, no! That was just what I did not want.
SOLNESS.
Why not?
HILDA.
I was afraid the whole thing might fall to pieces.--But we were going to
write on the drawings, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
So we were.
HILDA.
[Bends forward and looks over his shoulder while he writes.] Mind now,
kindly and cordially! Oh how I hate--how I hate this Ruald--
SOLNESS.
[Writing.] Have you never really cared for any one, Hilda?
HILDA.
For any one else, I suppose you mean?
SOLNESS.
[Looks up at her.] For any one else, yes. Have you never? In all these
ten years? Never?
HILDA.
Oh yes, now and then. When I was perfectly furious with you for not
coming.
SOLNESS.
Then you did take an interest in other people, too?
HILDA.
A little bit--for a week or so. Good heavens, Mr. Solness, you surely
know how such things come about.
SOLNESS.
Hilda--what is it you have come for?
HILDA.
Don't waste time talking. The poor old man might go and die in the
meantime.
SOLNESS.
Answer me, Hilda. What do you want of me?
HILDA.
I want my kingdom.
SOLNESS.
H'm--
He gives a rapid glance toward the door on the left, and
then goes on writing on the drawings. At the same moment
MRS. SOLNESS enters.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Here are a few things I have got for you, Miss Wangel. The large parcels
will be sent later on.
HILDA.
Oh, how very, very kind of you!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Only my simple duty. Nothing more than that.
SOLNESS.
[Reading over what he has written.] Aline!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
Did you notice whether the--the book-keeper was out there?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, of course, she was there.
SOLNESS.
[Puts the drawings in the portfolio.] H'm--
MRS. SOLNESS.
She was standing at the desk, as she always is--when _I_ go through the
room.
SOLNESS.
[Rises.] Then I'll give this to her and tell her that--
HILDA.
[Takes the portfolio from him.] Oh, no, let me have the pleasure of
doing that! [Goes to the door, but turns.] What is her name?
SOLNESS.
Her name is Miss Fosli.
HILDA.
Pooh, that sounds so cold! Her Christian name, I mean?
SOLNESS.
Kaia--I believe.
HILDA.
[Opens the door and calls out.] Kaia, come in here! Make haste! Mr.
Solness wants to speak to you.
KAIA FOSLI appears at the door.
KAIA.
[Looking at him in alarm.] Here I am--?
HILDA.
[Handing her the portfolio.] See her, Kaia! You can take this home; Mr.
Solness was written on them now.
KAIA.
Oh, at last!
SOLNESS.
Give them to the old man as soon as you can.
KAIA.
I will go straight home with them.
SOLNESS.
Yes, do. Now Ragnar will have a chance of building for himself.
KAIA.
Oh, may he come and thank you for all--?
SOLNESS.
[Harshly.] I won't have any thanks! Tell him that from me.
KAIA.
Yes, I will--
SOLNESS.
And tell him at the same time that henceforward I do not require his
services--nor yours either.
KAIA.
[Softly and quiveringly.] Not mine either?
SOLNESS.
You will have other things to think of now, and to attend to; and that
is a very good thing for you. Well, go home with the drawings now, Miss
Fosli. At once! Do you hear?
KAIA.
[As before.] Yes, Mr. Solness. [She goes out.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Heavens! what deceitful eyes she has.
SOLNESS.
She? That poor little creature?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh--I can see what I can see, Halvard.----Are you really dismissing
them?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Her as well?
SOLNESS.
Was not that what you wished?
MRS. SOLNESS.
But how can you get on without her--? Oh well, no doubt you have some
one else in reserve, Halvard.
HILDA.
[Playfully.] Well, _I_ for one am not the person to stand at a desk.
SOLNESS.
Never mind, never mind--it will be all right, Aline. Now all you have to
do is think about moving into our new home--as quickly as you can. This
evening we will hang up the wreath--[Turns to HILDA.] What do you say to
that, Miss Hilda?
HILDA.
[Looks at him with sparkling eyes.] It will be splendid to see you so
high up once more.
SOLNESS.
Me!
MRS. SOLNESS.
For Heaven's sake, Miss Wangel, don't imagine such a thing! My
husband!--when he always gets so dizzy!
HILDA.
He get dizzy! No, I know quite well he does not!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, indeed he does.
HILDA.
But I have seen him with my own eyes right up at the top of a high
church-tower!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, I hear people talk of that; but it is utterly impossible--
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Impossible--impossible, yes! But there I stood all the
same!
MRS. SOLNESS.
O, how can you say so, Halvard? Why, you can't even bear to go out on
the second-storey balcony here. You have always been like that.
SOLNESS.
You may perhaps see something different this evening.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[In alarm.] No, no, no! Please God I shall never see that. I will write
at once to the doctor--and I am sure he won't let you do it.
SOLNESS.
Why, Aline--!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, you know you're ill, Halvard. This proves it! Oh God--Oh God!
[She goes hastily out to the right.
HILDA.
[Looks intently at him.] Is it so, or is it not?
SOLNESS.
That I turn dizzy?
HILDA.
That my master builder dares not--cannot--climb as high as he builds?
SOLNESS.
Is that the way you look at it?
HILDA.
Yes.
SOLNESS.
I believe there is scarcely a corner in me that is safe from you.
HILDA.
[Looks towards the bow-window.] Up there, then. Right up there--
SOLNESS.