bag._
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Nodding and beckoning to EYOLF._] Come along, don’t be afraid, my
little wounded warrior! He won’t bite. Come here! Come here!
EYOLF.
[_Clinging to ASTA._] No, I dare not.
THE RAT-WIFE.
Don’t you think he has a gentle, lovable countenance, my young master?
EYOLF.
[_Astonished, pointing._] That thing _there_?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Yes, this thing here.
EYOLF.
[_Almost under his breath, staring fixedly at the dog._] I think he has
the horriblest—countenance I ever saw.
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Closing the bag._] Oh, it will come—it will come, right enough.
EYOLF.
[_Involuntarily drawing nearer, at last goes right up to her, and
strokes the bag._] But he is lovely—lovely all the same.
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_In a tone of caution._] But now he is so tired and weary, poor thing.
He’s utterly tired out, he is. [_Looks at ALLMERS._] For it takes the
strength out of you, that sort of game, I can tell you, sir.
ALLMERS.
What sort of game do you mean?
THE RAT-WIFE.
The luring game.
ALLMERS.
Do you mean that it is the dog that lures the rats?
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Nodding._] Mopsëman and I—we two do it together. And it goes so
smoothly—for all you can see, at any rate. I just slip a string through
his collar, and then I lead him three times round the house, and play on
my Pan’s-pipes. When they hear that, they have got to come up from the
cellars, and down from the garrets, and out of their holes, all the
blessed little creatures.
EYOLF.
And does he bite them to death then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Oh, not at all! No, we go down to the boat, he and I do—and then they
follow after us, both the big ones and the little ratikins.
EYOLF.
[_Eagerly._] And what then—tell me!
THE RAT-WIFE.
Then we push out from the land, and I scull with one oar, and play on my
Pan’s-pipes. And Mopsëman, he swims behind. [_With glittering eyes._]
And all the creepers and crawlers, they follow and follow us out into
the deep, deep waters. Ay, for they _have_ to.
EYOLF.
Why have they to?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Just because they want not to—just because they are so deadly afraid of
the water. That is why they have got to plunge into it.
EYOLF.
Are they drowned, then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Every blessed one. [_More softly._] And there it is all as still, and
soft, and dark as their hearts can desire, the lovely little things.
Down there they sleep a long, sweet sleep, with no one to hate them or
persecute them any more. [_Rises._] In the old days, I can tell you, I
didn’t need any Mopsëman. Then I did the luring myself—I alone.
EYOLF.
And what did you lure then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Men. One most of all.
EYOLF.
[_With eagerness._] Oh, who was that one? Tell me!
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Laughing._] It was my own sweetheart, it was, little heart-breaker!
EYOLF.
And where is he now, then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Harshly._] Down where all the rats are. [_Resuming her milder tone._]
But now I must be off and get to business again. Always on the move.
[_To RITA._] So your ladyship has no sort of use for me to-day? I could
finish it all off while I am about it.
RITA.
No, thank you; I don’t think we require anything.
THE RAT-WIFE.
Well, well, your sweet ladyship, you can never tell. If your ladyship
should find that there is anything here that keeps nibbling and gnawing,
and creeping and crawling, then just see and get hold of me and
Mopsëman.—Good-bye, good-bye, a kind good-bye to you all.
[_She goes out by the door on the right._
EYOLF.
[_Softly and triumphantly, to ASTA._] Only think, Auntie, now I have
seen the Rat-Wife too!
[_RITA goes out upon the verandah, and fans herself with her
pocket-handkerchief. Shortly afterwards, EYOLF slips cautiously
and unnoticed out to the right._
ALLMERS.
[_Takes up the portfolio from the table by the sofa._] Is this your
portfolio, Asta?
ASTA.
Yes. I have some of the old letters in it.
ALLMERS.
Ah, the family letters——
ASTA.
You know you asked me to arrange them for you while you were away.
ALLMERS.
[_Pats her on the head._] And you have actually found time to do that,
dear?
ASTA.
Oh, yes. I have done it partly out here and partly at my own rooms in
town.
ALLMERS.
Thanks, dear. Did you find anything particular in them?
ASTA.
[_Lightly._] Oh, you know you always find something or other in such old
papers. [_Speaking lower and seriously._] It is the letters to mother
that are in this portfolio.
ALLMERS.
Those, of course, you must keep yourself.
ASTA.
[_With an effort._] No; I am determined that you shall look through
them, too, Alfred. Some time—later on in life. I haven’t the key of the
portfolio with me just now.
ALLMERS.
It doesn’t matter, my dear Asta, for I shall never read your mother’s
letters in any case.
ASTA.
[_Fixing her eyes on him._] Then some time or other—some quiet evening—I
will tell you a little of what is in them.
ALLMERS.
Yes, that will be much better. But do you keep your mother’s letters—you
haven’t so many mementos of her.
[_He hands ASTA the portfolio. She takes it, and lays it on the
chair under her outdoor things. RITA comes into the room again._
RITA.
Ugh! I feel as if that horrible old woman had brought a sort of
graveyard smell with her.
ALLMERS.
Yes, she was rather horrible.
RITA.
I felt almost sick while she was in the room.
ALLMERS.
However, I can very well understand the sort of spellbound fascination
that she talked about. The loneliness of the mountain-peaks and of the
great waste places has something of the same magic about it.
ASTA.
[_Looks attentively at him._] What is it that has happened to you,
Alfred?
ALLMERS.
[_Smiling._] To me?
ASTA.
Yes, something has happened—something seems almost to have transformed
you. Rita noticed it too.
RITA.
Yes, I saw it the moment you came. A change for the better, I hope,
Alfred?
ALLMERS.
It _ought_ to be for the better. And it must and shall come to good.
RITA.
[_With an outburst._] You have had some adventure on your journey! Don’t
deny it! I can see it in your face!
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] No adventure in the world—outwardly at least.
But——
RITA.
[_Eagerly._] But——?
ALLMERS.
It is true that within me there has been something of a revolution.
RITA.
Oh Heavens——!
ALLMERS.
[_Soothingly, patting her hand._] Only for the better, my dear Rita. You
may be perfectly certain of that.
RITA.
[_Seats herself on the sofa._] You must tell us all about it, at
once—tell us everything!
ALLMERS.
[_Turning to ASTA._] Yes, let us sit down, too, Asta. Then I will try to
tell you as well as I can.
[_He seats himself on the sofa at RITA’S side. ASTA moves a chair
forward, and places herself near him._
RITA.
[_Looking at him expectantly._] Well——?
ALLMERS.
[_Gazing straight before him._] When I look back over my life—and my
fortunes—for the last ten or eleven years, it seems to me almost like a
fairy-tale or a dream. Don’t you think so too, Asta?
ASTA.
Yes, in many ways I think so.
ALLMERS.
[_Continuing._] When I remember what we two used to be, Asta—we two poor
orphan children——
RITA.
[_Impatiently._] Oh, that is such an old, old story.
ALLMERS.
[_Not listening to her._] And now here I am in comfort and luxury. I
have been able to follow my vocation. I have been able to work and
study—just as I had always longed to. [_Holds out his hand._] And all
this great—this fabulous good fortune we owe to you, my dearest Rita.
RITA.
[_Half playfully, half angrily, slaps his hand._] Oh, I do wish you
would stop talking like that.
ALLMERS.
I speak of it only as a sort of introduction.
RITA.
Then do skip the introduction!
ALLMERS.
Rita,—you must not think it was the doctor’s advice that drove me up to
the mountains.
ASTA.
Was it not, Alfred?
RITA.
What was it, then?
ALLMERS.
It was this: I found there was no more peace for me, there in my study.
RITA.
No peace! Why, who disturbed you?
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] No one from without. But I felt as though I were
positively abusing—or, say rather, wasting—my best powers—frittering
away the time.
ASTA.
[_With wide eyes._] When you were writing at your book?
ALLMERS.
[_Nodding._] For I cannot think that my powers are confined to that
alone. I must surely have it in me to do one or two other things as
well.
RITA.
Was that what you sat there brooding over?
ALLMERS.
Yes, mainly that.
RITA.
And so that is what has made you so discontented with yourself of late;
and with the rest of us as well. For you know you were discontented,
Alfred.
ALLMERS.
[_Gazing straight before him._] There I sat bent over my table, day
after day, and often half the night too—writing and writing at the great
thick book on “Human Responsibility.” H’m!
ASTA.
[_Laying her hand upon his arm._] But, Alfred—that book is to be your
life-work.
RITA.
Yes, you have said so often enough.
ALLMERS.
I thought so. Ever since I grew up, I have thought so. [_With an
affectionate expression in his eyes._] And it was you that enabled me to
devote myself to it, my dear Rita——
RITA.
Oh, nonsense!
ALLMERS.
[_Smiling to her._]—you, with your gold, and your green forests——
RITA.
[_Half laughing, half vexed._] If you begin all that rubbish again, I
shall beat you.
ASTA.
[_Looking sorrowfully at him._] But the book, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
It began, as it were, to drift away from me. But I was more and more
beset by the thought of the higher duties that laid their claims upon
me.
RITA.
[_Beaming, seizes his hand._] Alfred!
ALLMERS.
The thought of Eyolf, my dear Rita.
RITA.
[_Disappointed, drops his hand._] Ah—of Eyolf!
ALLMERS.
Poor little Eyolf has taken deeper and deeper hold of me. After that
unlucky fall from the table—and especially since we have been assured
that the injury is incurable——
RITA.
[_Insistently._] But you take all the care you possibly can of him,
Alfred!
ALLMERS.
As a schoolmaster, yes; but not as a father. And it is a father that I
want henceforth to be to Eyolf.
RITA.
[_Looking at him and shaking her head._] I don’t think I quite
understand you.
ALLMERS.
I mean that I will try with all my might to make his misfortune as
painless and easy to him as it can possibly be.
RITA.
Oh, but, dear—thank Heaven, I don’t think he feels it so deeply.
ASTA.
[_With emotion._] Yes, Rita, he does.
ALLMERS.
Yes, you may be sure he feels it deeply.
RITA.
[_Impatiently._] But, Alfred, what more can you do for him?
ALLMERS.
I will try to perfect all the rich possibilities that are dawning in his
childish soul. I will foster all the noble germs in his nature—make them
blossom and bear fruit. [_With more and more warmth, rising._] And I
will do more than that! I will help him to bring his desires into
harmony with what lies attainable before him. That is just what at
present they are not. All his longings are for things that must for ever
remain unattainable to him. But I will create a conscious happiness in
his mind.
[_He goes once or twice up and down the room. ASTA and RITA follow him
with their eyes._
RITA.
You should take these things more quietly, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
[_Stops beside the table on the left, and looks at them._] Eyolf shall
carry on my life-work—if he wants to. Or he shall choose one that is
altogether his own. Perhaps that would be best. At all events, I shall
let mine rest as it is.
RITA.
[_Rising._] But, Alfred dear, can you not work both for yourself and for
Eyolf?
ALLMERS.
No, I cannot. It is impossible! I cannot divide myself in this
matter—and therefore I efface myself. Eyolf shall be the complete man of
our race. And it shall be my new life-work to make him the complete man.
ASTA.
[_Has risen and now goes up to him._] This must have cost you a terribly
hard struggle, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
Yes, it has. At home here, I should never have conquered myself, never
brought myself to the point of renunciation. Never at home!
RITA.
Then that was why you went away this summer?
ALLMERS.
[_With shining eyes._] Yes! I went up into the infinite solitudes. I saw
the sunrise gleaming on the mountain peaks. I felt myself nearer the
stars—I seemed almost to be in sympathy and communion with them. And
then I found the strength for it.
ASTA.
[_Looking sadly at him._] But you will never write any more of your book
on "Human Responsibility"?
ALLMERS.
No, never, Asta. I tell you I cannot split up my life between two
vocations. But I will act out my "human responsibility"—in my own life.
RITA.
[_With a smile._] Do you think you can live up to such high resolves at
home here?
ALLMERS.
[_Taking her hand._] With you to help me, I can. [_Holds out the other
hand._] And with you too, Asta.
RITA.
[_Drawing her hand away._] Ah—with both of us! So, after all, you _can_
divide yourself.
ALLMERS.
Why, my dearest Rita——!
[_RITA moves away from him and stands in the garden doorway. A light
and rapid knock is heard at the door on the right. Engineer
BORGHEIM enters quickly. He is a young man of a little over
thirty. His expression is bright and cheerful, and he holds
himself erect._
BORGHEIM.
Good morning, Mrs. Allmers. [_Stops with an expression of pleasure on
seeing ALLMERS._] Why, what’s this? Home again already, Mr. Allmers?
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking hands with him._] Yes, I arrived last night.
RITA.
[_Gaily._] His leave was up, Mr. Borgheim.
ALLMERS.
No, you know it wasn’t, Rita——
RITA.
[_Approaching._] Oh yes, but it was, though. His furlough had run out.
BORGHEIM.
I see you hold your husband well in hand, Mrs. Allmers.
RITA.
I hold to my rights. And besides, everything must have an end.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, not everything—I hope. Good morning, Miss Allmers!
ASTA.
[_Holding aloof from him._] Good morning.
RITA.
[_Looking at BORGHEIM._] Not everything, you say?
BORGHEIM.
Oh, I am firmly convinced that there are _some_ things in the world that
will never come to an end.
RITA.
I suppose you are thinking of love—and that sort of thing.
BORGHEIM.
[_Warmly._] I am thinking of all that is lovely!
RITA.
And that never comes to an end. Yes, let us think of that, hope for
that, all of us.
ALLMERS.
[_Coming up to them._] I suppose you will soon have finished your
road-work out here?
BORGHEIM.
I have finished it already—finished it yesterday. It has been a long
business, but, thank Heaven, _that_ has come to an end.
RITA.
And you are beaming with joy over that?
BORGHEIM.
Yes, I am indeed!
RITA.
Well, I must say——
BORGHEIM.
What, Mrs. Allmers?
RITA.
I don’t think it is particularly nice of you, Mr. Borgheim.
BORGHEIM.
Indeed! Why not?
RITA.
Well, I suppose we sha’n’t often see you in these parts after this.
BORGHEIM.
No, that is true. I hadn’t thought of that.
RITA.
Oh well, I suppose you will be able to look in upon us now and then all
the same.
BORGHEIM.
No, unfortunately that will be out of my power for a very long time.
ALLMERS.
Indeed! How so?
BORGHEIM.
The fact is, I have got a big piece of new work that I must set about at
once.
ALLMERS.
Have you indeed?—[_Pressing his hand._]—I am heartily glad to hear it.
RITA.
I congratulate you, Mr. Borgheim!
BORGHEIM.
Hush, hush—I really ought not to talk openly of it as yet! But I can’t
help coming out with it! It is a great piece of road-making—up in the
north—with mountain ranges to cross, and the most tremendous
difficulties to overcome!—[_With an outburst of gladness._]—Oh, what a
glorious world this is—and what a joy it is to be a road-maker in it!
RITA.
[_Smiling, and looking teasingly at him._] Is it road-making business
that has brought you out here to-day in such wild spirits?
BORGHEIM.
No, not that alone. I am thinking of all the bright and hopeful
prospects that are opening out before me.
RITA.
Aha, then perhaps you have something still more exquisite in reserve!
BORGHEIM.
[_Glancing towards ASTA._] Who knows! When once happiness comes to us,
it is apt to come like a spring flood. [_Turns to ASTA._] Miss Allmers,
would you not like to take a little walk with me? As we used to?
ASTA.
[_Quickly._] No—no, thank you. Not now. Not to-day.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, do come! Only a little bit of a walk! I have so much I want to talk
to you about before I go.
RITA.
Something else, perhaps, that you must not talk openly about as yet?
BORGHEIM.
H’m, that depends——
RITA.
But there is nothing to prevent your whispering, you know. [_Half
aside._] Asta, you must really go with him.
ASTA.
But, my dear Rita——
BORGHEIM.
[_Imploringly._] Miss Asta—remember it is to be a farewell walk—the last
for many a day.
ASTA.
[_Takes her hat and parasol._] Very well, suppose we take a stroll in
the garden, then.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, thank you, thank you!
ALLMERS.
And while you are there you can see what Eyolf is doing.
BORGHEIM.
Ah, Eyolf, by the bye! Where is Eyolf to-day? I’ve got something for
him.
ALLMERS.
He is out playing somewhere.
BORGHEIM.
Is he really! Then he has begun to play now? He used always to be
sitting indoors over his books.
ALLMERS.
There is to be an end of that now. I am going to make a regular open-air
boy of him.
BORGHEIM.
Ah, now, that’s right! Out into the open air with him, poor little
fellow! Good Lord, what can we possibly do better than play in this
blessed world? For my part, I think all life is one long playtime!—Come,
Miss Asta!
[_BORGHEIM and ASTA go out on the verandah and down through the
garden._
ALLMERS.
[_Stands looking after them._] Rita—do you think there is anything
between those two?
RITA.
I don’t know what to say. I used to think there was. But Asta has grown
so strange to me—so utterly incomprehensible of late.
ALLMERS.
Indeed! Has she? While I have been away?
RITA.
Yes, within the last week or two.
ALLMERS.
And you think she doesn’t care very much about him now?
RITA.
Not seriously; not utterly and entirely; not unreservedly—I am sure she
doesn’t. [_Looks searchingly at him._] Would it displease you if she
did?
ALLMERS.
It would not exactly displease me. But it would certainly be a
disquieting thought——
RITA.
Disquieting?
ALLMERS.
Yes; you must remember that I am responsible for Asta—for her life’s
happiness.
RITA.
Oh, come—responsible! Surely Asta has come to years of discretion? I
should say she was capable of choosing for herself.
ALLMERS.
Yes, we must hope so, Rita.
RITA.
For my part, I don’t think at all ill of Borgheim.
ALLMERS.
No, dear—no more do I—quite the contrary. But all the same——
RITA.
[_Continuing._] And I should be very glad indeed if he and Asta were to
make a match of it.
ALLMERS.
[_Annoyed._] Oh, why should you be?
RITA.
[_With increasing excitement._] Why, for then she would have to go far,
far away with him! And she could never come out here to us, as she does
now.
ALLMERS.
[_Stares at her in astonishment._] What! Can you really wish Asta to go
away?
RITA.
Yes, yes, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
Why in all the world——?
RITA.
[_Throwing her arms passionately round his neck._] For then, at last, I
should have you to myself alone! And yet—not even then! Not wholly to
myself! [_Bursts into convulsive weeping._] Oh, Alfred, Alfred—I cannot
give you up!
ALLMERS.
[_Gently releasing himself._] My dearest Rita, do be reasonable!
RITA.
I don’t care a bit about being reasonable! I care only for you! Only for
you in all the world! [_Again throwing her arms round his neck._] For
you, for you, for you!
ALLMERS.
Let me go, let me go—you are strangling me!
RITA.
[_Letting him go._] How I wish I could! [_Looking at him with flashing
eyes._] Oh, if you knew how I have hated you——!
ALLMERS.
Hated me——!
RITA.
Yes—when you shut yourself up in your room and brooded over your
work—till long, long into the night. [_Plaintively._] So long, so late,
Alfred. Oh, how I hated your work!
ALLMERS.
But now I have done with that.
RITA.
[_With a cutting laugh._] Oh yes! Now you have given yourself up to
something worse.
ALLMERS.
[_Shocked._] Worse! Do you call our child something worse?
RITA.
[_Vehemently._] Yes, I do. As he comes between you and me, I call him
so. For the book—the book was not a living being, as the child is.
[_With increasing impetuosity._] But I won’t endure it, Alfred! I will
not endure it—I tell you so plainly!
ALLMERS.
[_Looks steadily at her, and says in a low voice._] I am often almost
afraid of you, Rita.
RITA.
[_Gloomily._] I am often afraid of myself. And for that very reason you
must not awake the evil in me.
ALLMERS.
Why, good Heavens, do I do that?
RITA.
Yes, you do—when you tear to shreds the holiest bonds between us.
ALLMERS.
[_Urgently._] Think what you’re saying, Rita. It is your own child—our
only child, that you are speaking of.
RITA.
The child is only half mine. [_With another outburst._] But you shall be
mine alone! You shall be wholly mine! That I have a right to demand of
you!
ALLMERS.
[_Shrugging his shoulders._] Oh, my dear Rita, it is of no use demanding
anything. Everything must be freely given.
RITA.
[_Looks anxiously at him._] And that you cannot do henceforth?
ALLMERS.
No, I cannot. I must divide myself between Eyolf and you.
RITA.
But if Eyolf had never been born? What then?
ALLMERS.
[_Evasively._] Oh, that would be another matter. Then I should have only
you to care for.
RITA.
[_Softly, her voice quivering._] Then I wish he had never been born.
ALLMERS.
[_Flashing out._] Rita! You don’t know what you are saying!
RITA.
[_Trembling with emotion._] It was in pain unspeakable that I brought
him into the world. But I bore it all with joy and rapture for your
sake.
ALLMERS.
[_Warmly._] Oh yes, I know, I know.
RITA.
[_With decision._] But there it must end. I will live my life—together
with you—wholly with you. I cannot go on being only Eyolf’s mother—only
his mother and nothing more. I _will_ not, I tell you! I _cannot_! I
will be all in all to you! To you, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
But that is just what you are, Rita. Through our child——
RITA.
Oh—vapid, nauseous phrases—nothing else! No, Alfred, I am not to be put
off like that. I was fitted to _become_ the child’s mother, but not to
be a mother to him. You must take me as I am, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
And yet you used to be so fond of Eyolf.
RITA.
I was so sorry for him—because you troubled yourself so little about
him. You kept him reading and grinding at books. You scarcely even saw
him.
ALLMERS.
[_Nodding slowly._] No; I was blind. The time had not yet come for me——
RITA.
[_Looking in his face._] But now, I suppose, it has come?
ALLMERS.
Yes, at last. Now I see that the highest task I can have in the world is
to be a true father to Eyolf.
RITA.
And to me?—what will you be to me?
ALLMERS.
[_Gently._] I will always go on caring for you—with calm, deep
tenderness. [_He tries to take her hands._]
RITA.
[_Avoiding him._] I don’t care a bit for your calm, deep tenderness. I
want you utterly and entirely—and alone! Just as I had you in the first
rich, beautiful days. [_Vehemently and harshly._] Never, never will I
consent to be put off with scraps and leavings, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
[_In a conciliatory tone._] I should have thought there was happiness in
plenty for all three of us, Rita.
RITA.
[_Scornfully._] Then you are easy to please. [_Seats herself at the
table on the left._] Now listen to me.
ALLMERS.
[_Approaching._] Well, what is it?
RITA.
[_Looking up at him with a veiled glow in her eyes._] When I got your
telegram yesterday evening——
ALLMERS.
Yes? What then?
RITA.
—then I dressed myself in white——
ALLMERS.
Yes, I noticed you were in white when I arrived.
RITA.
I had let down my hair——
ALLMERS.
Your sweet masses of hair——
RITA.
—so that it flowed down my neck and shoulders——
ALLMERS.
I saw it, I saw it. Oh, how lovely you were, Rita!
RITA.
There were rose-tinted shades over both the lamps. And we were alone, we
two—the only waking beings in the whole house. And there was champagne
on the table.
ALLMERS.
I did not drink any of it.
RITA.
[_Looking bitterly at him._] No, that is true. [_Laughs harshly._]
"There stood the champagne, but you tasted it not"—as the poet says.
[_She rises from the armchair, goes with an air of weariness over to
the sofa, and seats herself, half reclining, upon it._
ALLMERS.
[_Crosses the room and stands before her._] I was so taken up with
serious thoughts. I had made up my mind to talk to you of our future,
Rita—and first and foremost of Eyolf.
RITA.
[_Smiling._] And so you did——
ALLMERS.
No, I had not time to—for you began to undress.
RITA.
Yes, and meanwhile you talked about Eyolf. Don’t you remember? You
wanted to know all about little Eyolf’s digestion.
ALLMERS.
[_Looking reproachfully at her._] Rita!
RITA.
And then you got into your bed, and slept the sleep of the just.
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] Rita—Rita!
RITA.
[_Lying at full length and looking up at him._] Alfred?
ALLMERS.
Yes?
RITA.