ALLMERS. What did you want there?
RITA. To question the boys as to how it happened.
ALLMERS. But we know that.
RITA. We got to know more.
ALLMERS. Well?
RITA. It is not true that he disappeared all at once.
ALLMERS. Do they say that now?
RITA. Yes. They say they saw him lying down on the bottom. Deep down in
the clear water.
ALLMERS. [Grinding his teeth.] And they didn't save him!
RITA. I suppose they could not.
ALLMERS. They could swim--every one of them. Did they tell you how he
was lying whilst they could see him?
RITA. Yes. They said he was lying on his back. And with great, open
eyes.
ALLMERS. Open eyes. But quite still?
RITA. Yes, quite still. And then something came and swept him away. They
called it the undertow.
ALLMERS. [Nodding slowly.] So that was the last they saw of him.
RITA. [Suffocated with tears.] Yes.
ALLMERS. [In a dull voice.] And never--never will anyone see him again.
RITA. [Wailing.] I shall see him day and night, as he lay down there.
ALLMERS. With great, open eyes.
RITA. [Shuddering.] Yes, with great, open eyes. I see them! I see them
now!
ALLMERS. [Rises slowly and looks with quiet menace at her.] Were they
evil, those eyes, Rita?
RITA. [Turning pale.] Evil--!
ALLMERS. [Going close up to her.] Were they evil eyes that stared up? Up
from the depths?
RITA. [Shrinking from him.] Alfred--!
ALLMERS. [Following her.] Answer me! Were they a child's evil eyes?
RITA. [Shrieks.] Alfred! Alfred!
ALLMERS. Now things have come about--just as you wished, Rita.
RITA. I! What did I wish?
ALLMERS. That Eyolf were not here.
RITA. Never for a moment have I wished that! That Eyolf should not stand
between us--that was what I wished.
ALLMERS. Well, well--he does not stand between us any more.
RITA. [Softly, gazing straight before her.] Perhaps now more than ever.
[With a sudden shudder.] Oh, that horrible sight!
ALLMERS. [Nods.] The child's evil eyes.
RITA. [In dread, recoiling from him.] Let me be, Alfred! I am afraid of
you. I have never seen you like this before.
ALLMERS. [Looks harshly and coldly at her.] Sorrow makes us wicked and
hateful.
RITA. [Terrified, and yet defiant.] That is what I feel, too.
[ALLMERS goes towards the right and looks out over the fiord. RITA seats
herself at the table. A short pause.]
ALLMERS. [Turning his head towards her.] You never really and truly
loved him--never!
RITA. [With cold self-control.] Eyolf would never let me take him really
and truly to my heart.
ALLMERS. Because you did not want to.
RITA. Oh yes, I did. I did want to. But someone stood in the way--even
from the first.
ALLMERS. [Turning right round.] Do you mean that _I_ stood in the way?
RITA. Oh, no--not at first.
ALLMERS. [Coming nearer her.] Who, then?
RITA. His aunt.
ALLMERS. Asta?
RITA. Yes. Asta stood and barred the way for me.
ALLMERS. Can you say that, Rita?
RITA. Yes. Asta--she took him to her heart--from the moment that
happened--that miserable fall.
ALLMERS. If she did so, she did it in love.
RITA. [Vehemently.] That is just it! I cannot endure to share anything
with anyone! Not in love.
ALLMERS. We two should have shared him between us in love.
RITA. [Looking scornfully at him.] We? Oh, the truth is you have never
had any real love for him either.
ALLMERS. [Looks at her in astonishment.] _I_ have not--!
RITA. No, you have not. At first you were so utterly taken up by that
book of yours--about Responsibility.
ALLMERS. [Forcibly.] Yes, I was. But my very book--I sacrificed for
Eyolf's sake.
RITA. Not out of love for him.
ALLMERS. Why then, do you suppose?
RITA. Because you were consumed with mistrust of yourself. Because you
had begun to doubt whether you had any great vocation to live for in the
world.
ALLMERS. [Observing her closely.] Could you see that in me?
RITA. Oh, yes--little by little. And then you needed something new to
fill up your life.--It seems _I_ was not enough for you any longer.
ALLMERS. That is the law of change, Rita.
RITA. And that was why you wanted to make a prodigy of poor little
Eyolf.
ALLMERS. That was not what I wanted. I wanted to make a happy human
being of him.--That, and nothing more.
RITA. But not out of love for him. Look into yourself! [With a certain
shyness of expression.] Search out all that lies under--and behind your
action.
ALLMERS. [Avoiding her eyes.] There is something you shrink from saying.
RITA. And you too.
ALLMERS. [Looks thoughtfully at her.] If it is as you say, then we two
have never really possessed our own child.
RITA. No. Not in perfect love.
ALLMERS. And yet we are sorrowing so bitterly for him.
RITA. [With sarcasm.] Yes, isn't it curious that we should grieve like
this over a little stranger boy?
ALLMERS. [With an outburst.] Oh, don't call him a stranger!
RITA. [Sadly shaking her head.] We never won the boy, Alfred. Not I--nor
you either.
ALLMERS. [Wringing his hands.] And now it is too late! Too late!
RITA. And no consolation anywhere--in anything.
ALLMERS. [With sudden passion.] You are the guilty one in this!
RITA. [Rising.] I!
ALLMERS. Yes, you! It was your fault that he became--what he was! It was
your fault that he could not save himself when he fell into the water.
RITA. [With a gesture of repulsion.] Alfred--you shall not throw the
blame upon me!
ALLMERS. [More and more beside himself.] Yes, yes, I do! It was you that
left the helpless child unwatched upon the table.
RITA. He was lying so comfortably among the cushions, and sleeping so
soundly. And you had promised to look after him.
ALLMERS. Yes, I had. [Lowering his voice.] But then you came--you, you,
you--and lured me to you.
RITA. [Looking defiantly at him.] Oh, better own at once that you forgot
the child and everything else.
ALLMERS. [In suppressed desperation.] Yes, that is true. [Lower.] I
forgot the child--in your arms!
RITA. [Exasperated.] Alfred! Alfred--this is intolerable of you!
ALLMERS. [In a low voice, clenching his fists before her face.] In that
hour you condemned little Eyolf to death.
RITA. [Wildly.] You, too! You, too--if it is as you say!
ALLMERS. Oh yes--call me to account, too--if you will. We have sinned,
both of us. And so, after all, there was retribution in Eyolf's death.
RITA. Retribution?
ALLMERS. [With more self-control.] Yes. Judgment upon you and me. Now,
as we stand here, we have our deserts. While he lived, we let ourselves
shrink away from him in secret, abject remorse. We could not bear to see
it--the thing he had to drag with him--
RITA. [Whispers.] The crutch.
ALLMERS. Yes, that. And now, what we now call sorrow and heartache--is
really the gnawing of conscience, Rita. Nothing else.
RITA. [Gazing helplessly at him.] I feel as if all this must end in
despair--in madness for both of us. For we can never--never make it good
again.
ALLMERS. [Passing into a calmer mood.] I dreamed about Eyolf last night.
I thought I saw him coming up from the pier. He could run like other
boys. So nothing had happened to him--neither the one thing nor the
other. And the torturing reality was nothing but a dream, I thought. Oh,
how I thanked and blessed--[Checking himself.] H'm!
RITA. [Looking at him.] Whom?
ALLMERS. [Evasively.] Whom--?
RITA. Yes; whom did you thank and bless?