ALLMERS.
[_Almost harshly._] No. I did not taste it.
[_He goes away from her and stands in the garden doorway. RITA lies
for some time motionless, with closed eyes._
RITA.
[_Suddenly springing up._] But let me tell you one thing, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
[_Turning in the doorway._] Well?
RITA.
You ought not to feel quite so secure as you do!
ALLMERS.
Not secure?
RITA.
No, you ought not to be so indifferent! Not so certain of your property
in me!
ALLMERS.
[_Drawing nearer._] What do you mean by that?
RITA.
[_With trembling lips._] Never in a single thought have I been untrue to
you, Alfred! Never for an instant.
ALLMERS.
No, Rita, I know that—I, who know you so well.
RITA.
[_With sparkling eyes._] But if you disdain me——!
ALLMERS.
Disdain! I don’t understand what you mean!
RITA.
Oh, you don’t know all that might rise up within me, if——
ALLMERS.
If?
RITA.
If I should ever see that you did not care for me—that you did not love
me as you used to.
ALLMERS.
But, my dearest Rita—years bring a certain change with them—and that
must one day occur even in us—as in every one else.
RITA.
Never in me! And I will not hear of any change in you either—I could not
bear it, Alfred. I want to keep you to myself alone.
ALLMERS.
[_Looking at her with concern._] You have a terribly jealous nature——
RITA.
I can’t make myself different from what I am. [_Threateningly._] If you
go and divide yourself between me and any one else——
ALLMERS.
What then——?
RITA.
Then I will take my revenge on you, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
How "take your revenge"?
RITA.
I don’t know how.—Oh yes, I do know, well enough!
ALLMERS.
Well?
RITA.
I will go and throw myself away——
ALLMERS.
Throw yourself away, do you say?
RITA.
Yes, that I will. I’ll throw myself straight into the arms of—of the
first man that comes in my way!
ALLMERS.
[_Looking tenderly at her and shaking his head._] That you will never
do—my loyal, proud, true-hearted Rita!
RITA.
[_Putting her arms round his neck._] Oh, you don’t know what I might
come to be if you—if you did not love me any more.
ALLMERS.
Did not love you, Rita? How can you say such a thing!
RITA.
[_Half laughing, lets him go._] Why should I not spread my nets for
that—that road-maker man that hangs about here?
ALLMERS.
[_Relieved._] Oh, thank goodness—you are only joking.
RITA.
Not at all. He would do as well as any one else.
ALLMERS.
Ah, but I suspect he is more or less taken up already.
RITA.
So much the better! For then I should take him away from some one else;
and that is just what Eyolf has done to me.
ALLMERS.
Can you say that our little Eyolf has done that?
RITA.
[_Pointing with her forefinger._] There, you see! You see! The moment
you mention Eyolf’s name, you grow tender and your voice quivers!
[_Threateningly, clenching her hands._] Oh, you almost tempt me to
wish——
ALLMERS.
[_Looking at her anxiously._] What do I tempt you to wish, Rita?——
RITA.
[_Vehemently, going away from him._] No, no, no—I won’t tell you that!
Never!
ALLMERS.
[_Drawing nearer to her._] Rita! I implore you—for my sake and for your
own—do not let yourself be tempted into evil.
[_BORGHEIM and ASTA come up from the garden. They both show signs of
restrained emotion. They look serious and dejected. ASTA remains
out on the verandah. BORGHEIM comes into the room._
BORGHEIM.
So that is over—Miss Allmers and I have had our last walk together.
RITA.
[_Looks at him with surprise._] Ah! And there is no longer journey to
follow the walk?
BORGHEIM.
Yes, for me.
RITA.
For you alone?
BORGHEIM.
Yes, for me alone.
RITA.
[_Glances darkly at ALLMERS._] Do you hear that? [_Turns to BORGHEIM._]
I’ll wager it is some one with the evil eye that has played you this
trick.
BORGHEIM.
[_Looks at her._] The evil eye?
RITA.
[_Nodding._] Yes, the evil eye.
BORGHEIM.
Do you believe in the evil eye, Mrs. Allmers?
RITA.
Yes. I have begun to believe in the evil eye. Especially in a child’s
evil eye.
ALLMERS.
[_Shocked, whispers._] Rita—how can you——?
RITA.
[_Speaking low._] It is you that make me so wicked and hateful, Alfred.
[_Confused cries and shrieks are heard in the distance, from the
direction of the fiord._
BORGHEIM.
[_Going to the glass door._] What noise is that?
ASTA.
[_In the doorway._] Look at all those people running down to the pier!
ALLMERS.
What can it be? [_Looks out for a moment._] No doubt it’s those street
urchins at some mischief again.
BORGHEIM.
[_Calls, leaning over the verandah railings._] I say, you boys down
there! What’s the matter?
[_Several voices are heard answering indistinctly and confusedly._
RITA.
What do they say?
BORGHEIM.
They say it’s a child that’s drowned.
ALLMERS.
A child drowned?
ASTA.
[_Uneasily._] A little boy, they say.
ALLMERS.
Oh, they can all swim, every one of them.
RITA.
[_Shrieks in terror._] Where is Eyolf?
ALLMERS.
Keep quiet—quiet. Eyolf is down in the garden, playing.
ASTA.
No, he wasn’t in the garden.—
RITA.
[_With upstretched arms._] Oh, if only it isn’t he!
BORGHEIM.
[_Listens, and calls down._] Whose child is it, do you say?
[_Indistinct voices are heard. BORGHEIM and ASTA utter a suppressed
cry, and rush out through the garden._
ALLMERS.
[_In an agony of dread._] It isn’t Eyolf! It _isn’t_ Eyolf, Rita!
RITA.
[_On the verandah, listening._] Hush! Be quiet! Let me hear what they
are saying!
[_RITA rushes back with a piercing shriek, into the room._
ALLMERS.
[_Following her._] What did they say?
RITA.
[_Sinking down beside the armchair on the left._] They said: “The crutch
is floating!”
ALLMERS.
[_Almost paralysed._] No! No! No!
RITA.
[_Hoarsely._] Eyolf! Eyolf! Oh, but they _must_ save him!
ALLMERS.
[_Half distracted._] They must, they must! So precious a life!
[_He rushes down through the garden._
ACT SECOND
_A little narrow glen by the side of the fiord, on ALLMERS’S property.
On the left, lofty old trees overarch the spot. Down the slope in
the background a brook comes leaping, and loses itself among the
stones on the margin of the wood. A path winds along by the
brook-side. To the right there are only a few single trees,
between which the fiord is visible. In front is seen the corner of
a boat-shed with a boat drawn up. Under the old trees on the left
stands a table with a bench and one or two chairs, all made of
thin birch-staves. It is a heavy, damp day, with driving
mist-wreaths._
_ALFRED ALLMERS, dressed as before, sits on the bench, leaning his arms
on the table. His hat lies before him. He gazes absently and
immovably out over the water._
_Presently ASTA ALLMERS comes down the wood-path. She is carrying an
open umbrella._
ASTA.
[_Goes quietly and cautiously up to him._] You ought not to sit down
here in this gloomy weather, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
[_Nods slowly without answering._]
ASTA.
[_Closing her umbrella._] I have been searching for you such a long
time.
ALLMERS.
[_Without expression._] Thank you.
ASTA.
[_Moves a chair and seats herself close to him._] Have you been sitting
here long? All the time?
ALLMERS.
[_Does not answer at first. Presently he says._] No, I cannot grasp it.
It seems so utterly impossible.
ASTA.
[_Laying her hand compassionately on his arm._] Poor Alfred!
ALLMERS.
[_Gazing at her._] Is it really true then, Asta? Or have I gone mad? Or
am I only dreaming? Oh, if it were only a dream! Just think, if I were
to waken now!
ASTA.
Oh, if I could only waken you!
ALLMERS.
[_Looking out over the water._] How pitiless the fiord looks to-day,
lying so heavy and drowsy—leaden-grey—with splashes of yellow—and
reflecting the rain-clouds.
ASTA.
[_Imploringly._] Oh, Alfred, don’t sit staring out over the fiord!
ALLMERS.
[_Not heeding her._] Over the surface, yes. But in the depths—there
sweeps the rushing undertow——
ASTA.
[_In terror._] Oh, for God’s sake—don’t think of the depths!
ALLMERS.
[_Looking gently at her._] I suppose you think he is lying close outside
here? But he is not, Asta. You must not think that. You must remember
how fiercely the current sweeps out here—straight to the open sea.
ASTA.
[_Throws herself forward against the table, and, sobbing, buries her
face in her hands._] Oh, God! Oh, God!
ALLMERS.
[_Heavily._] So you see, little Eyolf has passed so far—far away from us
now.
ASTA.
[_Looks imploringly up at him._] Oh, Alfred, don’t say such things!
ALLMERS.
Why, you can reckon it out for yourself—you that are so clever. In
eight-and-twenty hours—nine-and-twenty hours——Let me see——! Let me
see——!
ASTA.
[_Shrieking and stopping her ears._] Alfred!
ALLMERS.
[_Clenching his hand firmly upon the table._] Can you conceive the
meaning of a thing like this?
ASTA.
[_Looks at him._] Of what?
ALLMERS.
Of this that has been done to Rita and me.
ASTA.
The meaning of it?
ALLMERS.
[_Impatiently._] Yes, the meaning, I say. For, after all, there must be
a meaning in it. Life, existence—destiny, _cannot_ be so utterly
meaningless.
ASTA.
Oh, who can say anything with certainty about these things, my dear
Alfred?
ALLMERS.
[_Laughs bitterly._] No, no; I believe you are right there. Perhaps the
whole thing goes simply by hap-hazard—taking its own course, like a
drifting wreck without a rudder. I daresay that is how it is. At least,
it seems very like it.
ASTA.
[_Thoughtfully._] What if it only seems——?
ALLMERS.
[_Vehemently._] Ah? Perhaps you can unravel the mystery for me? I
certainly cannot. [_More gently._] Here is Eyolf, just entering upon
conscious life: full of such infinite possibilities—splendid
possibilities perhaps: he would have filled my life with pride and
gladness. And then a crazy old woman has only to come this way—and show
a cur in a bag——
ASTA.
But we don’t in the least know how it really happened.
ALLMERS.
Yes, we do. The boys saw her row out over the fiord. They saw Eyolf
standing alone at the very end of the pier. They saw him gazing after
her—and then he seemed to turn giddy. [_Quivering._] And that was how he
fell over—and disappeared.
ASTA.
Yes, yes. But all the same——
ALLMERS.
She has drawn him down into the depths—that you may be sure of, dear.
ASTA.
But, Alfred, why should she?
ALLMERS.
Yes, that is just the question! Why should she? There is no retribution
behind it all—no atonement, I mean. Eyolf never did her any harm. He
never called names after her; he never threw stones at her dog. Why, he
had never set eyes either on her or her dog till yesterday. So there is
no retribution; the whole thing is utterly groundless and meaningless,
Asta.—And yet the order of the world requires it.
ASTA.
Have you spoken to Rita of these things?
ALLMERS.
[_Shakes his head._] I feel as if I can talk better to you about them.
[_Drawing a deep breath._] And about everything else as well.
[_ASTA takes sewing-materials and a little paper parcel out of her
pocket. ALLMERS sits looking on absently._
ALLMERS.
What have you got there, Asta?
ASTA.
[_Taking his hat._] Some black crape.
ALLMERS.
Oh, what is the use of that?
ASTA.
Rita asked me to put it on. May I?
ALLMERS.
Oh, yes; as far as I’m concerned——[_She sews the crape on his hat._]
ALLMERS.
[_Sitting and looking at her._] Where is Rita?
ASTA.
She is walking about the garden a little, I think. Borgheim is with her.
ALLMERS.
[_Slightly surprised._] Indeed! Is Borgheim out here to-day again?
ASTA.
Yes. He came out by the mid-day train.
ALLMERS.
I didn’t expect that.
ASTA.
[_Sewing._] He was so fond of Eyolf.
ALLMERS.
Borgheim is a faithful soul, Asta.
ASTA.
[_With quiet warmth._] Yes, faithful he is, indeed. That is certain.
ALLMERS.
[_Fixing his eyes upon her._] You are really fond of him?
ASTA.
Yes, I am.
ALLMERS.
And yet you cannot make up your mind to——?
ASTA.
[_Interrupting._] Oh, my dear Alfred, don’t talk of _that_!
ALLMERS.
Yes, yes; tell me why you cannot?
ASTA.
Oh, no! Please! You really must not ask me. You see, it’s so painful for
me.—There now! The hat is done.
ALLMERS.
Thank you.
ASTA.
And now for the left arm.
ALLMERS.
Am I to have crape on it too?
ASTA.
Yes, that is the custom.
ALLMERS.
Well—as you please.
[_She moves close up to him and begins to sew._
ASTA.
Keep your arm still—then I won’t prick you.
ALLMERS.
[_With a half-smile._] This is like the old days.
ASTA.
Yes, don’t you think so?
ALLMERS.
When you were a little girl you used to sit just like this, mending my
clothes. The first thing you ever sewed for me—that was black crape,
too.
ASTA.
Was it?
ALLMERS.
Round my student’s cap—at the time of father’s death.
ASTA.
Could I sew then? Fancy, I have forgotten it.
ALLMERS.
Oh, you were such a little thing then.
ASTA.
Yes, I was little then.
ALLMERS.
And then, two years afterwards—when we lost your mother—then again you
sewed a big crape band on my sleeve.
ASTA.
I thought it was the right thing to do.
ALLMERS.
[_Patting her hand._] Yes, yes, it was the right thing to do, Asta. And
then when we were left alone in the world, we two——. Are you done
already?
ASTA.
Yes. [_Putting together her sewing-materials._] It was really a
beautiful time for us, Alfred. We two alone.
ALLMERS.
Yes, it was—though we had to toil so hard.
ASTA.
_You_ toiled.
ALLMERS.
[_With more life._] Oh, you toiled too, in your way, I can assure
you—[_smiling_]—my dear, faithful—Eyolf.
ASTA.
Oh—you mustn’t remind me of that stupid nonsense about the name.
ALLMERS.
Well, if you had been a boy, you would have been called Eyolf.
ASTA.
Yes, _if_! But when you began to go to college——. [_Smiling
involuntarily._] I wonder how you could be so childish.
ALLMERS.
Was it I that was childish?
ASTA.
Yes, indeed, I think it was, as I look back upon it all. You were
ashamed of having no brother—only a sister.
ALLMERS.
No, no, it was you, dear—_you_ were ashamed.
ASTA.
Oh yes, I too, perhaps—a little. And somehow or other I was sorry for
you——
ALLMERS.
Yes, I believe you were. And then you hunted up some of my old boy’s
clothes——
ASTA.
Your fine Sunday clothes—yes. Do you remember the blue blouse and
knickerbockers?
ALLMERS.
[_His eyes dwelling upon her._] I remember so well how you looked when
you used to wear them.
ASTA.
Only when we were at home, alone, though.
ALLMERS.
And how serious we were, dear, and how mightily pleased with ourselves.
I always called you Eyolf.
ASTA.
Oh, Alfred, I hope you have never told Rita this?
ALLMERS.
Yes, I believe I did once tell her.
ASTA.
Oh, Alfred, how could you do that?
ALLMERS.
Well, you see—one tells one’s wife everything—very nearly.
ASTA.
Yes, I suppose one does.
ALLMERS.
[_As if awakening, clutches at his forehead and starts up._] Oh, how can
I sit here and——
ASTA.
[_Rising, looks sorrowfully at him._] What is the matter?
ALLMERS.
He had almost passed away from me. He had passed quite away.
ASTA.
Eyolf!
ALLMERS.
Here I sat, living in these recollections—and he had no part in them.
ASTA.
Yes, Alfred—little Eyolf was behind it all.
ALLMERS.
No, he was not. He slipped out of my memory—out of my thoughts. I did
not see him for a moment as we sat here talking. I utterly forgot him
all that time.
ASTA.
But surely you must take some rest in your sorrow.
ALLMERS.
No, no, no; that is just what I will not do! I must not—I have no
right—and no heart for it, either. [_Going in great excitement towards
the right._] All my thoughts must be out there, where he lies drifting
in the depths!
ASTA.
[_Following him and holding him back._] Alfred—Alfred! Don’t go to the
fiord.
ALLMERS.
I must go out to him! Let me go, Asta! I will take the boat.
ASTA.
[_In terror._] Don’t go to the fiord, I say!
ALLMERS.
[_Yielding._] No, no—I will not. Only let me alone.
ASTA.
[_Leading him back to the table._] You must rest from your thoughts,
Alfred. Come here and sit down.
ALLMERS.
[_Making as if to seat himself on the bench._] Well, well—as you please.
ASTA.
No, I won’t let you sit there.
ALLMERS.
Yes, let me.
ASTA.
No, don’t. For then you will only sit looking out——[_Forces him down
upon a chair, with his back to the right._] There now. Now that’s right.
[_Seats herself upon the bench._] And now we can talk a little again.
ALLMERS.
[_Drawing a deep breath audibly._] It was good to deaden the sorrow and
heartache for a moment.
ASTA.
You _must_ do so, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
But don’t you think it is terribly weak and unfeeling of me—to be able
to do so?
ASTA.
Oh, no—I am sure it is impossible to keep circling for ever round one
fixed thought.
ALLMERS.
Yes, for me it is impossible. Before you came to me, here I sat,
torturing myself unspeakably with this crushing, gnawing sorrow——
ASTA.
Yes?
ALLMERS.
And would you believe it, Asta——? H’m——
ASTA.
Well?
ALLMERS.
In the midst of all the agony, I found myself speculating what we should
have for dinner to-day.
ASTA.
[_Soothingly._] Well, well, if only it rests you to——
ALLMERS.
Yes, just fancy, dear—it seemed as if it did give me rest. [_Holds out
his hand to her across the table._] How good it is, Asta, that I have
you with me. I am so glad of that. Glad, glad—even in my sorrow.
ASTA.
[_Looking earnestly at him._] You ought most of all to be glad that you
have Rita.
ALLMERS.
Yes, of course I should. But Rita is no kin to me—it isn’t like having a
sister.
ASTA.
[_Eagerly._] Do you say that, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
Yes, _our_ family is a thing apart. [_Half jestingly._] We have always
had vowels for our initials. Don’t you remember how often we used to
speak of that? And all our relations—all equally poor. And we have all
the same colour of eyes.
ASTA.
Do you think I have——?
ALLMERS.
No, you take entirely after your mother. You are not in the least like
the rest of us—not even like father. But all the same——
ASTA.
All the same——?
ALLMERS.
Well, I believe that living together has, as it were, stamped us in each
other’s image—mentally, I mean.
ASTA.
[_With warm emotion._] Oh, you must never say that, Alfred. It is only I
that have taken my stamp from you; and it is to you that I owe
everything—every _good_ thing in the world.
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] You owe me nothing, Asta. On the contrary——
ASTA.
I owe you everything! You must never doubt that. No sacrifice has been
too great for you——
ALLMERS.
[_Interrupting._] Oh, nonsense—sacrifice! Don’t talk of such a thing.—I
have only loved you, Asta, ever since you were a little child. [_After a
short pause._] And then it always seemed to me that I had so much
injustice to make up to you for.
ASTA.
[_Astonished._] Injustice? You?
ALLMERS.
Not precisely on my own account. But——
ASTA.
[_Eagerly._] But——?
ALLMERS.
On father’s.
ASTA.
[_Half rising from the bench._] On—father’s! [_Sitting down again._]
What do you mean by that, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
Father was never really kind to you.
ASTA.
[_Vehemently._] Oh, don’t say that!
ALLMERS.
Yes, it is true. He did not love you—not as he ought to have.
ASTA.
[_Evasively._] No, perhaps not as he loved you. That was only natural.
ALLMERS.
[_Continuing._] And he was often hard to your mother, too—at least in
the last years.
ASTA.
[_Softly._] Mother was so much, much younger than he—remember that.
ALLMERS.
Do you think they were not quite suited to each other?
ASTA.
Perhaps not.
ALLMERS.
Yes, but still——. Father, who in other ways was so gentle and
warm-hearted—so kindly towards every one——
ASTA.
[_Quietly._] Mother, too, was not always as she ought to have been.
ALLMERS.
Your mother was not!
ASTA.
Perhaps not always.
ALLMERS.
Towards father, do you mean?
ASTA.
Yes.
ALLMERS.
I never noticed that.
ASTA.
[_Struggling with her tears, rises._] Oh, my dear Alfred—let them
rest—those who are gone.
[_She goes towards the right._
ALLMERS.
[_Rising._] Yes, let them rest. [_Wringing his hands._] But those who
are gone—it is they that won’t let us rest, Asta. Neither day nor night.
ASTA.
[_Looks warmly at him._] Time will make it all seem easier, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
[_Looking helplessly at her._] Yes, don’t you think it will?—But how I
am to get over these terrible first days [_Hoarsely._]—that is what I
cannot imagine.
ASTA.
[_Imploringly, laying her hands on his shoulders._] Go up to Rita. Oh,
please do——
ALLMERS.
[_Vehemently, withdrawing from her._] No, no, no—don’t talk to me of
that! I cannot, I tell you. [_More calmly._] Let me remain here, with
you.
ASTA.
Well, I will not leave you.
ALLMERS.
[_Seizing her hand and holding it fast._] Thank you for that! [_Looks
out for a time over the fiord._] Where is my little Eyolf now? [_Smiling
sadly to her._] Can you tell me that—my big, wise Eyolf? [_Shaking his
head._] No one in all the world can tell me that. I know only this one
terrible thing—that he is gone from me.
ASTA.
[_Looking up to the left, and withdrawing her hand._] Here they are
coming.
[Mrs. ALLMERS _and_ Engineer BORGHEIM _come down by the wood-path,
she leading the way. She wears a dark dress and a black veil
over her head. He has an umbrella under his arm._
ALLMERS.
[_Going to meet her._] How is it with you, Rita?
RITA.
[_Passing him._] Oh, don’t ask.
ALLMERS.
Why do you come here?
RITA.
Only to look for you. What are you doing?
ALLMERS.
Nothing. Asta came down to me.
RITA.
Yes, but before Asta came? You have been away from me all the morning.
ALLMERS.
I have been sitting here looking out over the water.
RITA.
Ugh,—how can you?
ALLMERS.
[_Impatiently._] I like best to be alone now.
RITA.
[_Moving restlessly about._] And then to sit still! To stay in one
place!
ALLMERS.
I have nothing in the world to move for.
RITA.
I cannot bear to be anywhere long. Least of all here—with the fiord at
my very feet.
ALLMERS.
It is just the nearness of the fiord——
RITA.
[_To BORGHEIM._] Don’t you think he should come back with the rest of
us?
BORGHEIM.
[_To ALLMERS._] I believe it would be better for you.
ALLMERS.
No, no; let me stay where I am.
RITA.
Then I will stay with you, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
Very well; do so, then. You remain too, Asta.
ASTA.
[_Whispers to BORGHEIM._] Let us leave them alone!
BORGHEIM.
[_With a glance of comprehension._] Miss Allmers, shall we go a little
further—along the shore? For the very last time?
ASTA.
[_Taking her umbrella._] Yes, come. Let us go a little further.
[_ASTA and BORGHEIM go out together behind the boat-shed. ALLMERS
wanders about for a little. Then he seats himself on a stone
under the trees on the left._
RITA.
[_Comes up and stands before him, her hands folded and hanging down._]
Can you think the thought, Alfred—that we have lost Eyolf?
ALLMERS.
[_Looking sadly at the ground._] We must accustom ourselves to think it.
RITA.
I cannot. I cannot. And then that horrible sight that will haunt me all
my life long.
ALLMERS.
[_Looking up._] What sight? What have you seen?
RITA.
I have seen nothing myself. I have only heard it told. Oh——!
ALLMERS.
You may as well tell me at once.
RITA.
I got Borgheim to go down with me to the pier——
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 any one 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 was 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.