HILDA.
Oh yes. It’s easy to see it—if you keep your eyes about you.
LYNGSTRAND.
But Miss Boletta will not have him. I am sure of that.
HILDA.
No. She thinks he looks so frightfully old; and she’s afraid he’ll soon
be bald too.
LYNGSTRAND.
Ah, I don’t mean only because of that. She would not have him in any
case.
HILDA.
How can you know that?
LYNGSTRAND.
Well, because there is some one else she has promised to keep in her
thoughts.
HILDA.
Only to keep in her thoughts?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, while he is away.
HILDA.
Oh, then I suppose it’s you she is to keep in her thoughts.
LYNGSTRAND.
Possibly.
HILDA.
Has she promised you that?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, only think—she has promised me that! But please, please don’t tell
her that you know about it.
HILDA.
Oh, don’t be afraid: I am as silent as the grave.
LYNGSTRAND.
I think it is so tremendously kind of her.
HILDA.
And then, when you come home again—is it to be an engagement? Are you
going to marry her?
LYNGSTRAND.
No, I scarcely think that would do. You see, marriage is out of the
question for me for a few years yet; and then, when I have made my way,
she will be a bit too old for me, I fancy.
HILDA.
And yet you want her to go on thinking of you?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes; for it would help me so much; as an artist, you understand. And
she, having no special vocation of her own in life, can so easily do
it.—But it is kind of her, all the same.
HILDA.
Do you think, then, that you can get on quicker with your group if you
know that Boletta is thinking of you at home here?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, I imagine so. You see, the knowledge that somewhere in the world a
young, exquisite, silent woman is secretly dreaming of one—I think it
must be so—so——. Well, I scarcely know what to call it.
HILDA.
Do you mean—thrilling?
LYNGSTRAND.
Thrilling? Oh yes. It is thrilling I mean; or something of that sort.
[_Looks at her a moment._] You are so bright, Miss Hilda; really you are
very bright, you know. When I come home again you will be just about as
old as your sister is now. Perhaps you will look as she looks now; and
perhaps you will have grown like her in mind as well. Very likely you
will be, as it were, both yourself and her—in one body, so to speak.
HILDA.
Would that please you?
LYNGSTRAND.
I don’t quite know. Yes, I almost think so. But now—for this summer—I
prefer you to be like yourself alone—just exactly as you are.
HILDA.
Do you like me best so?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, I like you exceedingly as you are.
HILDA.
H’m,—tell me,—as an artist—do you think I do right in always wearing
light summer dresses?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, I think you do perfectly right.
HILDA.
Then you think bright colours suit me?
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, charmingly, to my taste.
HILDA.
But tell me—as an artist—how do you think I should look in black?
LYNGSTRAND.
In black, Miss Hilda?
HILDA.
Yes, all in black. Do you think I should look nice?
LYNGSTRAND.
Black is scarcely the thing for the summer-time. But for that matter I
am sure you would look extremely well in black too. Yes, you have just
the figure for it.
HILDA.
[_Gazing before her._] In black right up to the neck—a black
ruffle—black gloves and a long black veil behind.
LYNGSTRAND.
If you were dressed like that, Miss Hilda, I should long to be a
painter—so that I might paint a young, lovely, broken-hearted widow.
HILDA.
Or a young girl mourning for her betrothed.
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, that would suit you still better. But you can’t wish to dress
yourself like that?
HILDA.
I don’t know; I think it is thrilling.
LYNGSTRAND.
Thrilling?
HILDA.
Thrilling to think of, yes. [_Points suddenly to the left._] Oh, look
_there_!
LYNGSTRAND.
[_Looking in the direction indicated._] The big English steamer! And
right in at the pier!
WANGEL _and_ ELLIDA _appear by the pond._
WANGEL.
No, I assure you, my dear Ellida, you are mistaken. [_Sees the others._]
What, are you two here? She is not in sight yet, is she, Mr. Lyngstrand?
LYNGSTRAND.
The big English boat?
WANGEL.
Yes.
LYNGSTRAND.
[_Pointing._] There she lies already, Doctor.
ELLIDA.
Ah—! I knew it.
WANGEL.
She is come!
LYNGSTRAND.
Come like a thief in the night, you might say—softly and noiselessly——
WANGEL.
You must take Hilda down to the pier. Make haste! I’m sure she would
like to hear the music.
LYNGSTRAND.
Yes, we were just going, Doctor.
WANGEL.
We will perhaps come afterwards. We’ll come presently.
HILDA.
[_Whispers to_ LYNGSTRAND.] Another pair, you see.
[_She and_ LYNGSTRAND _go out through the garden to the left.
Distant music of wind instruments is heard out on the fiord
during what follows._
ELLIDA.
He has come! He is here! Yes, yes—I feel it.
WANGEL.
You had better go in, Ellida. Let me see him alone.
ELLIDA.
Oh—it is impossible! Impossible, I say! [_With a cry._] Ah—do you see
him Wangel!
THE STRANGER _enters from the left and stops on the footpath,
outside the garden fence._
THE STRANGER.
[_Bows._] Good evening. I have come again you see, Ellida.
ELLIDA.
Yes, yes, yes,—the hour has come.
THE STRANGER.
Are you ready to go with me? Or are you not?
WANGEL.
You can see for yourself that she is not.
THE STRANGER.
I was not thinking of travelling-clothes and trunks and that sort of
thing. I have on board with me everything she requires for the voyage;
and I have taken a cabin for her. [_To_ ELLIDA.] I ask you, then, if you
are ready to come with me—to come with me of your own free will?
ELLIDA.
[_Imploringly._] Oh, do not ask me! Do not tempt me so!
[_A steamer-bell is heard in the distance._
THE STRANGER.
There goes the warning bell. Now you must say yes or no.
ELLIDA.
[_Wrings her hands._] To have to decide! To decide for all time! To do
what can never be undone!
THE STRANGER.
Never. In half an hour it will be too late.
ELLIDA.
[_Looks timidly and intently at him._] What makes you hold to me so
persistently?
THE STRANGER.
Do you not feel, as I do, that we two belong to each other?
ELLIDA.
Do you mean because of that promise?
THE STRANGER.
Promises bind no one: neither man nor woman. If I hold to you
persistently, it is because I cannot do otherwise.
ELLIDA.
[_Softly and trembling._] Why did you not come sooner?
WANGEL.
Ellida!
ELLIDA.
[_With an outburst of emotion._] Oh—what is it that tempts and allures
and seems to drag me into the unknown! The whole might of the sea is
centred in this one thing!
[THE STRANGER _climbs over the garden fence._
ELLIDA.
[_Shrinks behind_ WANGEL.] What is it? What do you want?
THE STRANGER.
I see it—I hear it in your voice, Ellida—it is me you will choose in the
end.
WANGEL.
[_Advances towards him._] My wife has no choice in the matter. I am here
to choose for her and—to protect her. Yes, protect her! If you do not
get away from here—out of the country—and never come back—do you know
what you expose yourself to?
ELLIDA.
No, no, Wangel! Not that!
THE STRANGER.
What will you do to me?
WANGEL.
I will have you arrested—as a felon! At once! Before you can get on
board! I know all about the murder out at Skioldvik.
ELLIDA.
Oh Wangel,—how can you——?
THE STRANGER.
I was prepared for that move; and therefore,—[_Takes a revolver out of
his breast pocket_],—I have provided myself with this.
ELLIDA.
[_Throws herself before_ WANGEL.] No, no—do not kill him! Rather kill
me!
THE STRANGER.
Neither you nor him; be easy on that score. This is for myself; I will
live and die a free man!
ELLIDA.
[_With increasing agitation._] Wangel! Let me tell you this—tell you in
his hearing! I know you can keep me here! You have the power, and no
doubt you will use it! But my mind—all my thoughts—all my irresistible
longings and desires—these you cannot fetter! They will yearn and
strain—out into the unknown—that I was created for—and that you have
barred against me!
WANGEL.
[_In quiet grief._] I see it clearly, Ellida! Step by step you are
gliding away from me. Your craving for the limitless and the
infinite—and for the unattainable—will drive your mind quite out into
the darkness at last.
ELLIDA.
Oh yes, yes,—I feel it—like black soundless wings hovering over me!
WANGEL.
It shall not come to that. There is no other way of deliverance for you;
at least I see none. And therefore—therefore I—cancel our bargain on the
spot.—Now you can choose your own path—in full—full freedom.
ELLIDA.
[_Gazes at him awhile as if speechless._] Is this true—true—what you
say? Do you mean it—from your inmost heart?
WANGEL.
Yes,—from the inmost depths of my tortured heart, I mean it.
ELLIDA.
And _can_ you do it? Can you carry out your purpose?
WANGEL.
Yes, I can. I can—because of my great love for you.
ELLIDA.
[_Softly and tremblingly._] And I have come to be so near—so dear to
you!
WANGEL.
The years of our marriage have made you so.
ELLIDA.
[_Clasps her hands together._] And I,—I have been blind to it!
WANGEL.
Your thoughts went in other directions. But now,—now you are set wholly
free from me and mine. Now your own true life can return to its—its
right grove again. For now you can choose in freedom; and on your own
responsibility, Ellida.
ELLIDA.
[_Clasps her head with her hands and gazes fixedly towards_ WANGEL.] In
freedom—and on my own responsibility? Responsibility! This—this
transforms everything.
[_The steamer bell rings again._
THE STRANGER.
Do you hear, Ellida? The bell is ringing for the last time. Come away!
ELLIDA.
[_Turns towards him, looks fixedly at him, and says with determination
in her voice._] I can never go with you after this.
THE STRANGER.
You will not go?
ELLIDA.
[_Clings to Wangel._] Oh—after this I can never leave you!
WANGEL.
Ellida,—Ellida.
THE STRANGER.
It is all over then?
ELLIDA.
Yes. Over for all time!
THE STRANGER.
I see it. There is something here that is stronger than my will.
ELLIDA.
Your will has no longer a feather’s weight with me. For me you are a
dead man, who has come home from the sea—and who is returning to it
again. But I am no longer in terror of you: you fascinate me no more.
THE STRANGER.
Good-bye, Mrs. Wangel! [_He vaults over the fence._] Henceforth you[23]
are nothing but—a bygone shipwreck in my life.
[_He goes out to the left._
WANGEL.
[_Looks at her awhile._] Ellida—your mind is like the sea: it has its
ebb and flow. What brought the transformation?
ELLIDA.
Oh, do you not understand that the transformation came,—that it _had_ to
come—when I could choose in freedom.
WANGEL.
And the unknown,—it fascinates you no longer?
ELLIDA.
It neither fascinates nor frightens me. I could have seen into it—gone
into it—if I had wished to. I was free to choose it; and therefore I was
able to reject it.
WANGEL.
I begin to understand you—by degrees. You think and conceive in
images—in visible pictures. Your longing and yearning for the sea—the
fascination that he—the stranger—possessed for you—must have been the
expression of an awakening and growing need for freedom within
you—nothing else.
ELLIDA.
Oh, I don’t know what to say to that. But you have been a good physician
for me. You _found_,—and you had the courage to _use_,—the right
remedy—the _only_ one that could help me.
WANGEL.
Yes, in the last extremity of danger, we physicians have courage for
much.—But now you will come to me again, will you not, Ellida?
ELLIDA.
Yes, my dear, faithful Wangel—now I will come to you again. I can now,
for now I come to you in freedom—of my own will—and on my own
responsibility.
WANGEL.
[_Looks tenderly at her._] Ellida! Ellida! Oh,—to think that we two can
now live wholly for each other——
ELLIDA.
——and with all our memories in common. Yours—as well as mine.
WANGEL.
Yes, all in common, dearest!
ELLIDA.
And our two children, Wangel——
WANGEL.
_Ours_ you call them!
ELLIDA.
They are not mine yet—but I shall win them.
WANGEL.
Ours——! [_Kisses her hands joyfully and quickly._] Oh, I thank you for
that word more than I can tell.
HILDA, BALLESTED, LYNGSTRAND, ARNHOLM, _and_ BOLETTA _come from
the left into the garden. At the same time a number of young
townspeople and summer visitors pass along the footpath._
HILDA.
[_Half aloud, to_ LYNGSTRAND.] Just look,—don’t she and father look like
an engaged couple!
BALLESTED.
[_Who has overheard._] It is summer time, little miss.
ARNHOLM.
[_Looks towards_ WANGEL _and_ ELLIDA.] The English steamer is under way.
BOLETTA.
[_Goes to the fence._] You can see her best from here.
LYNGSTRAND.
The last trip of the season.
BALLESTED.
“Soon will all the straits be ice-bound,” as the poet says. It is sad,
Mrs. Wangel! And I hear we are to lose you too for a time: you go out to
Skioldvik to-morrow, I am told.
WANGEL.
No—that plan has come to nothing; this evening we two have changed our
minds.
ARNHOLM.
[_Looking from one to the other._] Ah,—really!
BOLETTA.
[_Coming forward._] Father—is this true?
HILDA.
[_Going to_ ELLIDA.] Are you going to stay with us after all?
ELLIDA.
Yes, dear Hilda—if you will have me.
HILDA.
[_Struggling between tears and joy._] Oh,—can you ask—if I will——!
ARNHOLM.
[_To_ ELLIDA.] This is really quite a surprise!
ELLIDA.
[_With a grave smile._] Well, you see, Mr. Arnholm——. Do you remember
what we were speaking of yesterday? When you have once for all become a
land-animal—you can never find the way back again—out to the sea. Nor to
the sea-life either.
BALLESTED.
Why, that’s just the case of my mermaid!
ELLIDA.
Very like it, yes.
BALLESTED.
Only with this difference, that the mermaid—_she_ dies of it. Human
beings, on the contrary—they can acclam—accli—matise themselves. Yes, I
assure you, Mrs. Wangel, they _can_ ac-cli-matise themselves.
ELLIDA.
Yes, in freedom they can, Mr. Ballested.
WANGEL.
And under full responsibility, dear Ellida.
ELLIDA.
[_Quickly, holding out her hand to him._] _That_ is the secret.
[_The great steamer glides noiselessly down the fiord. The music
is heard closer inshore._
-----
Footnote 22:
“Snart er alle sunde lukket.”—Oehlenschläger’s _Hakon Jarl_.
Footnote 23:
Here, for the first time, he uses the formal _De_.
-----
THE END.
Printed by BALLANTYNE & CO. LIMITED
Tavistock Street, Covent Garden, London
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note
There are quite a few instances of missing punctuation. The conventional
period following the character’s name is sometimes missing and has been
added for consistency’s sake without further comment. Those missing from
setting and stage direction are also added without comment, since there
is no obvious purpose to be served by the omission. However, the
restoration of punctuation missing from dialogue is noted below, since
the punctuation is frequently expressive. Several instances of dubious
‘?’ marks have been corrected, based on context.
As noted below, on p. 62, there is apparently a missing word in the
phrase ‘And even it were so...’, most likely ‘if’.
Volume I of this series included errata for each succeeding volume, and
noted the following for Volume IX. Each of these was corrected in
printing.
The words ‘stepmother’ and ‘footpath’ both appear hyphenated once,
midline. Both have been retained.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
xix.13 I can least reconcile myself.[’/”] Replaced.
4.25 MADAM HELS[TE/ET]H. Inverted.
13.26 makes him well over forty-three[.] Added.
31.21 it belongs to a plebeian[:/?] Replaced.
49.6 [RE[C/B]ECCA _goes out_ Replaced.
51.23 to make the plunge at last[.] Added.
67.29 to get out o[f] a false and equivocal position Restored.
81.23 from li[z/v]ing his life out Replaced.
118.30 not a word about it[.] Added.
124.13 _seats himself on the [s]ofa_. Restored.
129.14 by the window[]] And Bracket
added.
159.27 for this this[,] Rebecca? Added.
178.16 BOLLET[O/A]. Replaced.
242.16 My poor unhappy Ellida[!] Added
254.2 a long sea-vo[g/y]age Replaced.
255.29 so bright and cheerful [a ]moment ago Restored.
258.14 look at me like that[?/!] Replaced.
280.25 Surely [y]ou think so! Restored.
298.3 He was quite differently dressed too[.] Added.
304.25 give me back my freedom this very day[.] Added.
325.10 and your future [f]ully and fearlessly Restored.
345.2 Yes[.] Over for all time! Added.