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MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN
_A COLLECTION OF SOME OF THE MASTER'S BEST-KNOWN DRAMAS_ CONDENSED,
REVISED, AND SLIGHTLY RE-ARRANGED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE EARNEST STUDENT
BY
F. ANSTEY
AUTHOR OF "VICE VERSA," "VOCES POPULI," ETC.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY BERNARD PARTRIDGE_
LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 1893
[_All rights reserved_]
* * * * *
PREFATORY NOTE
_The concluding piece, "Pill-Doctor Herdal," is, as the observant reader
will instantly perceive, rather a reverent attempt to tread in the
footprints of the Norwegian dramatist, than a version of any actually
existing masterpiece. The author is conscious that his imitation is
painfully lacking in the mysterious obscurity of the original, that the
vein of allegorical symbolism is thinner throughout than it should be,
and that the characters are not nearly so mad as persons invariably are
in real life--but these are the faults inevitable to a prentice hand,
and he trusts that due allowances may be made for them by the critical._
_In conclusion he wishes to express his acknowledgments to Messrs.
Bradbury and Agnew for their permission to reprint the present volume,
the contents of which made their original appearance in the pages of
"Punch."_
* * * * *
CONTENTS
ROSMERSHOeLM
NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE
HEDDA GABLER
THE WILD DUCK
PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL
* * * * *
ROSMERSHOeLM
ACT FIRST
_Sitting-room at Rosmershoelm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows,
ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it._
REBECCA WEST _is sitting knitting a large antimacassar which is nearly
finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods
expectantly to someone outside._ MADAM HELSETH _is laying the table for
supper._
REBECCA.
[_Folding up her work slowly._] But tell me precisely, what about this
white horse?
[_Smiling quietly._
MADAM HELSETH.
Lord forgive you, Miss!--[_fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on
table_]--but you're making fun of me!
REBECCA.
[_Gravely._] No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmershoelm. Mr. Rosmer
would not understand it. [_Shutting window._] Ah, here is Rector Kroll.
[_Opening door._] You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I
will tell them to give us some little extra dish.
KROLL.
[_Hanging up his hat in the hall._] Many thanks. [_Wipes his boots._]
May I come in? [_Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks
about him._] And how do you and Rosmer get on together, eh?
REBECCA.
Ever since your sister, Beata, went mad and jumped into the mill-race,
we have been as happy as two little birds together. [_After a pause,
sitting down in arm-chair._] So you don't really mind my living here all
alone with Rosmer? We were afraid you might, perhaps.
KROLL.
Why, how on earth--on the contrary, I shouldn't object at all if
you--[_looks at her meaningly_]--h'm!
REBECCA.
[_Interrupting, gravely._] For shame, Rector; how can you make such
jokes?
KROLL.
[_As if surprised._] Jokes! We do not joke in these parts--but here is
Rosmer.
[_Enter_ ROSMER, _gently and softly._
ROSMER.
So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year's absence.
[_Sits down._] We almost thought that----
KROLL.
[_Nods._] So Miss West was saying--but you are quite mistaken. I merely
thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor Beata's suicide, so I
kept away. We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.
ROSMER.
It was considerate--but unnecessary. Reb--I _mean_, Miss West--and I
often allude to the incident, do we not?
REBECCA.
[_Strikes Taendstickor._] Oh yes, indeed. [_Lighting lamp._] Whenever we
feel a little more cheerful than usual.
KROLL.
You dear good people! [_Wanders up the room._] I came because the Spirit
of Revolt has crept into my School. A Secret Society has existed for
weeks in the Lower Third! To-day it has come to my knowledge that a
booby trap was prepared for me by the hand of my own son, Laurits, and
I then discovered that a hair had been inserted in my cane by my
daughter Hilda! The only way in which a right-minded Schoolmaster can
combat this anarchic and subversive spirit is to start a newspaper, and
I thought that you, as a weak, credulous, inexperienced and
impressionable kind of man, were the very person to be the Editor.
[REBECCA _laughs softly, as if to herself._
ROSMER _jumps up and sits down again._
REBECCA.
[_With a look at Rosmer._] Tell him now!
ROSMER.
[_Returning the look._] I can't--Some other evening. Well, perhaps----
[_To_ KROLL.] I can't be your Editor--because [_in a low voice_] I--I am
on the side of Laurits and Hilda!
KROLL.
[_Looks from one to the other, gloomily._] H'm!
ROSMER.
Yes. Since we last met, I have changed my views. I am going to create a
new democracy, and awaken it to its true task of making all the people
of this country noblemen, by freeing their wills, and purifying their
minds!
KROLL.
What _do_ you mean!
[_Takes up his hat._
ROSMER.
[_Bowing his head._] I don't quite know, my dear friend; it was Reb----
I should say Miss West's scheme.
KROLL.
H'm! [_A suspicion appears in his face._] Now I begin to believe that
what Beata said about schemes----no matter. But under the
circumstances, I will _not_ stay to supper.
[_Takes up his stick, and walks out._
ROSMER.
I _told_ you he would be annoyed. I shall go to bed now. I don't want
any supper.
[_He lights a candle, and goes out; presently his footsteps
are heard overhead, as he undresses._ REBECCA _pulls a bell-rope._
REBECCA.
[_To_ MADAM HELSETH, _who enters with dishes._] No, Mr. Rosmer will not
have supper to-night. [_In a lighter tone._] Perhaps he is afraid of the
nightmare. There are so many sorts of White Horses in this world!
MADAM HELSETH.
[_Shaking._] Lord! lord! that Miss West--the things she does say!
[REBECCA _goes out through door, knitting antimacassar thoughtfully,
as Curtain falls._
* * * * *
ACT SECOND
ROSMER'S _study. Doors and windows, bookshelves, a writing-table. Door,
with curtain, leading to_ ROSMER'S _bedroom._ ROSMER _discovered in a
smoking jacket cutting a pamphlet with a paper-knife. There is a knock
at the door._ ROSMER _says "Come in."_ REBECCA _enters in a morning
wrapper and curl-papers. She sits on a chair close to_ ROSMER, _and
looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves._ RECTOR KROLL _is shown
up._
KROLL.
[_Lays his hat on the table and looks at_ REBECCA _from head to foot._]
I am really afraid that I am in the way.
REBECCA.
[_Surprised._] Because I am in my morning wrapper and curl-papers? You
forget that I am _emancipated_, Rector Kroll.
[_She leaves them and listens behind curtain in_ ROSMER'S _bedroom_.
ROSMER.
Yes, Miss West and I have worked our way forward in faithful
comradeship.
KROLL.
[_Shakes his head at him slowly._] So I perceive. Miss West is naturally
inclined to be forward. But, I say, _really_ you know----However, I
came to tell you that poor Beata was not so mad as she looked, though
flowers _did_ bewilder her so. [_Taking off his gloves meaningly._] She
jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea that you ought to
marry Miss West!
[Illustration: "Taking off his gloves meaningly."]
ROSMER.
[_Jumps half up from his chair._] I? Marry--Miss West! My good gracious,
Kroll! I don't _understand_, it is _most_ incomprehensible. [_Looks
fixedly before him._] How _can_ people?----[_Looks at him for a moment,
then rises._] Will you get out? [_Still quiet and self-restrained._] But
first tell me why you never mentioned this before?
KROLL.
Why? Because I thought you were both orthodox, which made all the
difference. Now I know that you side with Laurits and Hilda, and mean to
make the democracy into noblemen, and accordingly I intend to make it
hot for you in my paper. _Good_ morning!
[_He slams the door with spite as_ REBECCA _enters from bedroom._
ROSMER.
[_As if surprised._] You--in my bedroom! You have been listening, dear?
But you _are_ so emancipated.
Ah, well! so our pure and beautiful friendship has been misinterpreted,
bespattered! Just because you wear a morning wrapper, and have lived
here alone for a year, people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make
unpleasant remarks! But what really _did_ drive Beata mad? _Why_ did she
jump into the mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we could to spare
her! I made it the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all
our interests--_didn't_ I, now?
REBECCA.
You did. But why brood over it? What _does_ it matter? Get on with your
great beautiful task, dear--[_approaching him cautiously from
behind_]--winning over minds and wills, and creating noblemen, you
know--_joyful_ noblemen!
ROSMER.
[_Walking about restlessly, as if in thought._] Yes, I know. I have
never laughed in the whole course of my life--we Rosmers don't--and so I
felt that spreading gladness and light, and making the democracy
joyful, was properly my mission. But _now_--I feel too upset to go on,
Rebecca, unless----[_Shakes his head heavily._] Yes, an idea has just
occurred to me----[_Looks at her, and then runs his hands through his
hair_]--Oh, my goodness! No--I _can't_.
[_He leans his elbows on table._
REBECCA.
Be a free man to the full, Rosmer--tell me your idea.
ROSMER.
[_Gloomily._] I don't know what you'll say to it. It's this: Our
platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and happy.
Now that I am bothered and badgered, I feel--_why_, I can't exactly
explain, but I _do_ feel that I must oppose a new and living reality to
the gnawing memories of the past. I should perhaps, explain that this is
equivalent to an Ibsenian proposal.
REBECCA.
[_Catches at the chair-back with joy._] How? at _last_--a rise at last!
[_Recollects herself._] But what am I about? Am I not an emancipated
enigma? [_Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror._] What are you
saying? You mustn't. I can't _think_ what you mean. Go away, do!
ROSMER.
[_Softly._] Be the new and living reality. It is the only way to put
Beata out of the Saga. Shall we try it?
REBECCA.
Never! Do not--_do_ not ask me why--for I haven't a notion--but never!
[_Nods slowly to him and rises._] White Horses would not induce me!
[_With her hand on door-handle._] Now you _know_!
[_She goes out._
ROSMER.
[_Sits up, stares, thunderstruck, at the stove, and says to himself._]
Well--I--_am_----
[_Quick Curtain._
* * * * *
ACT THIRD
_Sitting-room at Rosmershoelm. Sun shining outside in the Garden. Inside_
REBECCA WEST _is watering a geranium with a small watering-pot. Her
crochet antimacassar lies in the arm-chair._ MADAME HELSETH _is rubbing
the chairs with furniture-polish from a large bottle. Enter_ ROSMER,
_with his hat and stick in his hand._ MADAME HELSETH _corks the bottle
and goes out to the right_.
REBECCA.
Good morning, dear. [_A moment after_--_crocheting._] Have you seen
Rector Kroll's paper this morning? There's something about _you_ in it.
ROSMER.
Oh, indeed? [_Puts down hat and stick, and takes up paper._] H'm!
[_Reads_--_then walks about the room._] Kroll _has_ made it hot for me.
[_Reads some more._] Oh, this is _too_ bad! Rebecca, they _do_ say such
nasty spiteful things! they actually call me a renegade--and I can't
_think_ why! They _mustn't_ go on like this. All that is good in human
nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent man
like me! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have been!
REBECCA.
Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to attain--and I
wish you may get it!
ROSMER.
Thanks. I think I shall. [_Happens to look through window and jumps._]
Ah, no, I shan't--never now, I have just seen----
REBECCA.
_Not_ the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that White
Horse!
ROSMER.
No--the mill-race, where Beata----[_Puts on his hat_--_takes it off
again._] I'm beginning to be haunted by--no, I _don't_ mean the
Horse--by a terrible suspicion that Beata may have been right after all!
Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really have
been in love with you from the first. Tell me _your_ opinion.
REBECCA.
[_Struggling with herself, and still crocheting._] Oh--I can't exactly
say--such an odd question to ask me!
ROSMER.
[_Shakes his head._] Perhaps; I have no sense of humour--no respectable
Norwegian _has_--and I _do_ want to know--because, you see, if I _was_
in love with you, it was a _sin_, and if I once convinced myself of
that----
[_Wanders across the room._
REBECCA.
[_Breaking out._] Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is your hat,
and your stick, too; go and take a walk.
[ROSMER _takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk;
presently_ MADAM HELSETH _appears, and tells_ REBECCA _something._
REBECCA _tells her something. They whisper together._ MADAM HELSETH
_nods, and shows in_ RECTOR KROLL, _who keeps his hat in his hand, and
sits on a chair._
KROLL.
I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider you an
artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering your
birth and moral antecedents, you know--[_nods at her_]--it is not
surprising. [REBECCA _walks about wringing her hands._] Why, what _is_
the matter? Did you really not know that you had no right to your
father's name? I'd no _idea_ you would mind my mentioning such a trifle!
REBECCA.
[_Breaking out._] I _do_ mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain
a few little prejudices still. I _don't_ like owning to my real age, and
I _do_ prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information--of which I
was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. Gamvik, never _once_
alluded to it--I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced
women are like that. Here is Rosmer. [ROSMER _enters with his hat and
stick._] Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. Let
us sit down, dear, all three of us. [_They sit down, mechanically, on
chairs._] A long time ago, before the play began--[_in a voice scarcely
audible_]--in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow _do_
happen before the play begins----
ROSMER.
But, Rebecca, I _know_ all this.
KROLL.
[_Looks hard at her._] Perhaps I had better go?
REBECCA.
No--I will be short. This was it. I wanted to take my share in the life
of the New Era, and march onward with Rosmer. There was one dismal,
insurmountable barrier--[_to_ ROSMER, _who nods gravely_]--Beata! I
understood where your deliverance lay--and I acted. _I_ drove Beata into
the mill-race.... There!
ROSMER.
[_After a short silence._] H'm! Well, Kroll--[_takes up his hat_]--if
you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox
once more--after _this!_
KROLL.
[_Severely and impressively, to_ REBECCA.] A nice sort of young woman
_you_ are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at_ REBECCA.
REBECCA.
[_Speaks to herself, under her breath._] Now I _have_ done it. I wonder
_why_. [_Pulls bell-rope._] Madam Helseth, I have just had a glimpse of
two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk.
[_Enter_ MADAM HELSETH, _with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._
* * * * *
ACT FOUR
_Late evening._ REBECCA WEST _stands by a lighted lamp, with a shade
over it, packing sandwiches, &c., in a reticule, with a faint smile. The
antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter_ ROSMER.
ROSMER.
[_Seeing the sandwiches, &c._] Sandwiches? Then you _are_ going! Why, on
earth--I _can't_ understand!
REBECCA.
Dear, you never _can_. Rosmershoelm is too much for me. But how did you
get on with Kroll?
ROSMER.
We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of ennobling men
was several sizes too large for me--so I am going to let it alone----
REBECCA.
[_With her faint smile._] There I almost think, dear, that you are wise.
ROSMER.
[_As if annoyed._] What, so _you_ don't believe in me either,
Rebecca--you never _did_!
[_Sits listlessly on chair._
REBECCA.
Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself--but I've another
confession to make.
ROSMER.
What, _another_? I really can't stand any more confessions just now!
REBECCA.
[_Sitting close to him._] It is only a little one. I bullied Beata into
the mill-race--because of a wild uncontrollable---- [ROSMER _moves
uneasily._] Sit still, dear--uncontrollable fancy--for _you_!
ROSMER.
[_Goes and sits on sofa._] Oh, my goodness, Rebecca--you _mustn't_, you
know!
[_He jumps up and down as if embarrassed._
[Illustration: "Oh, my goodness, Rebecca--you _mustn't_, you know!"]
REBECCA.
Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you
in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without
reserve--little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the
Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an
extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The Rosmer view of life is
ennobling, very--but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you.
ROSMER.
[_Turning it off._] Isn't that enough for one evening?
REBECCA.
[_Almost voiceless._] No, dear. I have a Past--_behind_ me!
ROSMER.
_Behind_ you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. [_Starts,
as if in fear._] A joke! [_Sadly._] Ah, no--_no_, I must not give way to
_that_! Never mind the Past, Rebecca; I once thought that I had made the
grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see
now it was too daring, too original--an immature dream. What bothers me
is that I can't--somehow I _can't_--believe entirely in you--I am not
even sure that I _have_ ennobled you so very much--_isn't_ it terrible?
REBECCA.
[_Wringing her hands._] Oh, this killing doubt! [_Looks darkly at him._]
Is there anything _I_ can do to convince you?
ROSMER.
[_As if impelled to speak against his will._] Yes, one thing--only I'm
afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it.
It is like this.
I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to
ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now,
unless--well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like Beata!
_REBECCA._
[_Takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her head._]
Anything to oblige you.
_ROSMER._
[_Springs up._] What? You really _will_! You are _sure_ you don't mind?
Then, Rebecca, I will go further. I will even go--yes--as far as you go
yourself!
_REBECCA._
[_Bows her head towards his breast._] You will see me off? Thanks. Now
you are indeed an Ibsenite.
[_Smiles almost imperceptibly._
_ROSMER._
[_Cautiously._] I said as far as _you_ go. I don't commit myself further
than that. Shall we go?
REBECCA.
First tell me this. Are _you_ going with _me_, or am _I_ going with
_you?_
ROSMER.
A subtle psychological point--but we have not time to think it out here.
We will discuss it as we go along. Come!
[ROSMER _takes his hat and stick_, REBECCA _her reticule, with
sandwiches. They go out hand-in-hand through the door, which they leave
open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is left empty.
Then_ MADAM HELSETH _enters through another door_.
MADAM HELSETH.
The cab, Miss--not here! [_Looks out._] Out together--at this time of
night--upon my--_not_ on the garden seat? [_Looks out of window._] My
goodness! _what_ is that white thing on the bridge--the _Horse_ at last!
[_Shrieks aloud._] And those two sinful creatures running home!
[_Enter_ ROSMER _and_ REBECCA, _out of breath_.
ROSMER.
[_Scarcely able to get the words out._] It's no use, Rebecca--we must
put it off till another evening. We can't be expected to jump off a
footbridge which already has a White Horse on it. And if it comes to
that, why should we jump at all? I know now that I really _have_
ennobled you, which was all I wanted. What would be the good of
recovering faith in my mission at the bottom of a mill-pond? No,
Rebecca--[_Lays his hand on her head_]--there is no judge over us, and
therefore----
REBECCA.
[_Interrupting gravely._] We will bind ourselves over in our own
recognisances to come up for judgment when called upon.
[MADAM HELSETH _holds on to a chair-back._ REBECCA _finishes the
antimacassar calmly as Curtain falls_.
* * * * *
NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE
(ET DIKKISVOeET)
ACT FIRST
_A room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks in an
etagere: a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from the gaselier.
Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders, frogs and lizards,
scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes with tall dyed grasses. A
porcelain stove decorated with transferable pictures. Showily-bound
books in book-case. Window. The Visitor's bell rings in the hall
outside. The hall-door is heard to open, and then to shut. Presently_
NORA _walks in with parcels; a porter carries a large Christmas-tree
after her--which he puts down_. NORA _gives him a shilling--and he goes
out grumbling_.
NORA _hums contentedly, and eats macaroons. Then_ HELMER _puts his head
out of his Manager's room, and_ NORA _hides macaroons cautiously_.
HELMER.
[_Playfully._] Is that my little squirrel twittering--that my lark
frisking in here?
NORA.
Ess! [_To herself._] I have only been married eight years, so these
marital amenities have not yet had time to pall!
HELMER.
[_Threatening with his finger._] I hope the little bird has surely not
been digging its beak into any macaroons, eh?
NORA.
[_Bolting one, and wiping her mouth._] No, most certainly not. [_To
herself_] The worst of being so babyish is--one _does_ have to tell
such a lot of taradiddles! [_To_ HELMER.] See what I've bought--it's been
_such_ fun!
[_Hums._
HELMER.
[_Inspecting parcels._] H'm--rather an _expensive_ little lark!
[_Takes her playfully by the ear._
NORA.
Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which reminds me----
[_Plays with his coat-buttons._] I'm such a simple ickle sing--but if
you _are_ thinking of giving me a Christmas present, make it cash!
HELMER.
Just like your poor father, _he_ always asked me to make it cash--he
never made any himself! It's heredity, I suppose. Well--well!
[_Goes back to his Bank._ NORA _goes on humming._
_Enter_ MRS. LINDEN, _doubtfully._
NORA.
What, Christina--why, how old you look! But then you are poor. I'm not.
Torvald has just been made a Bank Manager. [_Tidies the room._] Isn't it
really wonderfully delicious to be well off? But of course, you wouldn't
know. _We_ were poor once, and, do you know, when Torvald was ill,
I--[_tossing her head_]--though I _am_ such a frivolous little squirrel,
and all that, I actually borrowed L300 for him to go abroad. Wasn't
_that_ clever? Tra-la-la! I shan't tell you _who_ lent it. I didn't even
tell Torvald. I am such a mere baby I don't tell him everything. I tell
Dr. Rank, though. Oh, I'm so awfully happy I should like to shout, "Dash
it all!"
MRS. LINDEN.
[_Stroking her hair._] Do--it is a natural and innocent outburst--you
are such a child! But I am a widow, and want employment. _Do_ you think
your husband could find me a place as clerk in his Bank? [_Proudly._] I
am an excellent knitter!
NORA.
That would really be awfully funny. [_To_ HELMER, _who enters._]
Torvald, this is Christina; she wants to be a clerk in your Bank--_do_
let her! She thinks such a lot of _you_. [_To herself._] Another
taradiddle!
HELMER.
She is a sensible woman, and deserves encouragement. Come along, Mrs.
Linden, and we'll see what we can do for you.
[_He goes out through the hall with_ MRS. LINDEN, _and the front-door
is heard to slam after them._
NORA.
[_Opens door, and calls._] Now, Emmy, Ivar, and Bob, come in and have a
romp with Mamma--we will play hide-and-seek. [_She gets under the
table, smiling in quiet satisfaction_; KROGSTAD _enters_--NORA _pounces
out upon him._] Boo!... Oh, I beg your pardon. I don't do this kind of
thing _generally_--though I may be a little silly.
[Illustration: "Boo!"]
KROGSTAD.
[_Politely._] Don't mention it. I called because I happened to see your
husband go out with Mrs. Linden--from which, being a person of
considerable penetration, I infer that he is about to give her my post
at the Bank. Now, as you owe me the balance of L300, for which I hold
your acknowledgment, you will see the propriety of putting a stop to
this little game at once.
NORA.
But I don't at all--not a little wee bit! I'm so childish, you know--why
_should_ I?
[_Sitting upright on carpet._
KROGSTAD.
I will try to make it plain to the meanest capacity. When you came to me
for the loan, I naturally required some additional security. Your
father, being a shady Government official, without a penny--for, if he
had possessed one, he would presumably have left it to you--without a
penny, then--I, as a cautious man of business, insisted upon having his
signature as a surety. Oh, we Norwegians are sharp fellows!
NORA.
Well, you _got_ papa's signature, didn't you?
KROGSTAD.
Oh, I _got_ it right enough. Unfortunately, it was dated three days
after his decease--now, how do you account for _that_?
NORA.
How? Why, as poor Papa was dead, and couldn't sign, I signed _for_ him,
that's all! Only somehow I forgot to put the date back. _That's_ how.
Didn't I _tell_ you I was a silly, unbusiness like little thing? It's
very simple.
KROGSTAD.
Very--but what you did amounts to forgery, notwithstanding. I happen to
know, because I'm a lawyer, and have done a little in the forging way
myself. So, to come to the point--if _I_ get kicked out, I shall not go
alone! [_He bows, and goes out._
NORA.
It _can't_ be wrong! Why, no one but Krogstad would have been taken in
by it! If the Law says it's wrong, the Law's a goose--a bigger goose
than poor little me even! [_To_ HELMER, _who enters._] Oh, Torvald, how
you made me jump!
HELMER.
Has anybody called? [NORA _shakes her head._] Oh, my little squirrel
mustn't tell naughty whoppers. Why, I just met that fellow Krogstad in
the hall. He's been asking you to get me to take him back--now, hasn't
he?
NORA.
[_Walking about._] Do just see how pretty the Christmas-tree looks!
HELMER.
Never mind the tree--I want to have this out about Krogstad. I can't
take him back, because many years ago he forged a name. As a lawyer, a
close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have remarked that
people who forge names seldom or never confide the fact to their
children--which inevitably brings moral contagion into the entire
family. From which it follows, logically, that Krogstad has been
poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally lost.
[_Stretches out his hands to her._] I can't bear a morally lost
Bank-cashier about me!
NORA.
But you never thought of dismissing him till Christina came!
HELMER.
H'm! I've got some business to attend to--so good-bye, little lark!
[_Goes into office and shuts door._
NORA.
[_Pale with terror._] If Krogstad poisons his children because he once
forged a name, I must be poisoning Emmy, and Bob, and Ivar, because _I_
forged papa's signature! [_Short pause; she raises her head proudly._]
After all, if I am a doll, I can still draw a logical inference! I
mustn't play with the children any more--[_hotly_]--I don't care--I
_shall_, though! Who cares for Krogstad?
[_She makes a face, choking with suppressed tears, as Curtain falls._
* * * * *
ACT SECOND
_The room, with the cheap Art-furniture as before--except that the
candles on the Christmas tree have guttered down and appear to have been
lately blown out. The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are
disarranged, and there are walking things on the sofa._ NORA _alone_.
NORA.
[_Putting on a cloak and taking it off again._] Bother Krogstad! There,
I won't think of him. I'll only think of the costume ball at Consul
Stenborg's, overhead, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all
alone, dressed as a Capri fisher-girl. It struck Torvald that, as I am
a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul's
guests, and, at the same time, increase his connection at the Bank.
Torvald is so practical. [_To_ MRS. LINDEN, _who comes in with a large
cardboard box._] Ah, Christina, so you have brought in my old costume?
_Would_ you mind, as my husband's new Cashier, just doing up the
trimming for me?
MRS. LINDEN.
Not at all--is it not part of my regular duties? [_Sewing._] Don't you
think, Nora, that you see a little too much of Dr. Rank?
NORA.
Oh, I _couldn't_ see too much of Dr. Rank! He _is_ so amusing--always
talking about his complaints, and heredity, and all sorts of
indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear; I hear Torvald.
[MRS. LINDEN _goes. Enter_ TORVALD _from the Manager's room._ NORA
_runs trippingly to him._
NORA.
[_Coaxing._] Oh, Torvald, if only you won't dismiss Krogstad, you can't
think how your little lark would jump about and twitter.
HELMER.
The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that, as it is, the
little lark is generally engaged in that particular occupation. And I
really _must_ get rid of Krogstad. If I didn't, people would say I was
under the thumb of my little squirrel here, and then Krogstad and I knew
each other in early youth; and when two people knew each other in early
youth--[_a short pause_]--h'm! Besides, he will address me as, "I say,
Torvald"--which causes me most painful emotion! He is tactless,
dishonest, familiar, and morally ruined--altogether not at all the kind
of person to be a Cashier in a Bank like mine.
NORA.
But he writes in scurrilous papers--he is on the staff of the Norwegian
_Punch_. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about _you_, as
wicked people did about poor dear papa!
HELMER.
Your poor dear papa was not impeccable--far from it. I _am_--which makes
all the difference. I have here a letter giving Krogstad the sack. One
of the conveniences of living close to the Bank is, that I can use the
housemaids as Bank-messengers. [_Goes to door and calls._] Ellen!
[_Enter parlourmaid._] Take that letter--there is no answer. [ELLEN
_takes it and goes._] That's settled--and now, Nora, as I am going to my
private room, it will be a capital opportunity for you to practise the
tambourine--thump away, little lark, the doors are double!
[_Nods to her and goes in, shutting door._
NORA.
[_Stroking her face._] How _am_ I to get out of this mess? [_A ring at
the visitors' bell._] Dr. Rank's ring! _He_ shall help me out of it!
[Dr. RANK _appears in doorway, hanging up his great-coat._] Dear Dr.
Rank, how _are_ you? [_Takes both his hands_.
DR. RANK.
[_Sitting down near the stove._] I am a miserable, hypochondriacal
wretch--that's what _I_ am. And why am I doomed to be dismal? Why?
Because my father died of a fit of the blues! _Is_ that fair--I put it
to _you_?
NORA.
Do try to be funnier than _that_! See, I will show you the
flesh-coloured silk tights that I am to wear to-night--it will cheer you
up. But you must only look at the feet--well, you may look at the rest
if you're good. _Aren't_ they lovely? Will they fit me, do you think?
DR. RANK.
[_Gloomily._] A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best
authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for worms before
long--I _know_ I shall!
[Illustration: "A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the
best authority on the fit of silk stockings."]
NORA.
You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! [_She hits him lightly on
the ear with the stockings; then hums a little._] I want you to do me a
great service, Dr. Rank. [_Rolling up stockings._] I always liked _you_.
I love Torvald most, of _course_--but, somehow, I'd rather spend my time
with you--you _are_ so amusing!
RANK.
If I am, can't you guess why? [_A short silence._] Because I love you!
You can't pretend you didn't know it!
NORA.
Perhaps not--but it was really too clumsy of you to mention it just as I
was about to ask a favour of you! It was in the worst taste! [_With
dignity._] You must not imagine because I joke with you about silk
stockings, and tell you things I never tell Torvald, that I am therefore
without the most delicate and scrupulous self-respect! I am really quite
a good little doll, Dr. Rank, and now--[_sits in rocking chair and
smiles_]--now I shan't ask you what I was going to!
[ELLEN _comes in with a card._
NORA.
[_Terrified._] Oh, my goodness!
[_Puts it in her pocket._
DR. RANK.
Excuse my easy Norwegian pleasantry--but--h'm--anything disagreeable up?
NORA.
[_To herself._] Krogstad's card! I must tell _another_ whopper! [_To_
RANK.] No, nothing--only--only my new costume. I want to try it on here.
I always do try on my dresses in the drawing-room--it's _cosier_, you
know. So go in to Torvald and amuse him till I'm ready.
[RANK _goes into_ HELMER'S _room, and_ NORA _bolts the door upon him,
as_ KROGSTAD _enters from hall in a fur cap_.
KROGSTAD.
Well, I've got the sack, and so I came to see how _you_ are getting on.
I mayn't be a nice man, but--[_with feeling_]--I have a heart! And, as I
don't intend to give up the forged I.O.U. unless I'm taken back, I was
afraid you might be contemplating suicide, or something of that kind;
and so I called to tell you that, if I were you, I wouldn't. Bad thing
for the complexion, suicide--and silly, too, because it wouldn't mend
matters in the least. [_Kindly._] You must not take this affair too
seriously, Mrs. Helmer. Get your husband to settle it amicably by taking
me back as Cashier; _then_ I shall soon get the whip-hand of _him_, and
we shall all be as pleasant and comfortable as possible together!
NORA.
Not even that prospect can tempt me! Besides, Torvald wouldn't have you
back at any price now!
KROGSTAD.
All right, then. I have here a letter, telling your husband all. I will
take the liberty of dropping it in the letter-box at your hall-door as I
go out. I'll wish you good evening!
[_He goes out; presently the dull sound of a thick letter dropping into
a wire box is heard._
NORA.
[_Softly, and hoarsely._] He's done it! How _am_ I to prevent Torvald
from seeing it?
HELMER.
[_Inside the door, rattling._] Hasn't my lark changed its dress yet?
[NORA _unbolts door._] What--so you are _not_ in fancy costume, after
all? [_Enters with_ RANK.] Are there any letters for me in the box
there?
NORA.
[_Voicelessly._] None--not even a postcard! Oh, Torvald, don't, please,
go and look--_promise_ me you won't! I do _assure_ you there isn't a
letter! And I've forgotten the Tarantella you taught me--do let's run
over it. I'm so afraid of breaking down--promise me not to look at the
letter-box. I can't dance unless you do.
HELMER.
[_Standing still, on his way to the letter-box._] I am a man of strict
business habits, and some powers of observation; my little squirrel's
assurances that there is nothing in the box, combined with her obvious
anxiety that I should not go and see for myself, satisfy me that it is
indeed empty, in spite of the fact that I have not invariably found her
a strictly truthful little dicky-bird. There--there. [_Sits down to
piano._] Bang away on your tambourine, little squirrel--dance away, my
own lark!
NORA.
[_Dancing, with a long gay shawl._] Just _won't_ the little squirrel!
Faster--faster! Oh, I _do_ feel so gay! We will have some champagne for
dinner, _won't_ we, Torvald?
[_Dances with more and more abandonment._
HELMER.
[_After addressing frequent remarks in correction._] Come, come--not
this awful wildness! I don't like to see _quite_ such a larky little
lark as this.... Really it is time you stopped!
NORA.
[_Her hair coming down as she dances more wildly still, and swings
the tambourine._] I can't.... I can't! [_To herself, as she dances._]
I've only thirty-one hours left to be a bird in; and after
that--[_shuddering_]--after _that_, Krogstad will let the cat out of the
bag!
[_Curtain._
* * * * *
ACT THIRD
_The same room_--_except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one
of the Japanese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fire-place_. MRS.
LINDEN _sits and reads a book_--_but without understanding a single
line_.
MRS. LINDEN.
[_Laying down her book, as a light tread is heard outside_.] Here he is
at last! [KROGSTAD _comes in, and stands in the doorway._] Mr. Krogstad,
I have given you a secret _rendezvous_ in this room, because it belongs
to my employer, Mr. Helmer, who has lately discharged you. The etiquette
of Norway permits these slight freedoms on the part of a female
cashier.
KROGSTAD.
It does. Are we alone? [NORA _is heard overhead dancing the
Tarantella_.] Yes, I hear Mrs. Helmer's fairy footfall above. She dances
the Tarantella now--by-and-by she will dance to another tune! [_Changing
his tone._] I don't exactly know why you should wish to have this
interview--after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?
MRS. LINDEN.
Don't you? _I_ do. I am a widow--a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred
to me that there may be a nobler side to your nature somewhere--though
you have not precisely the best of reputations.
KROGSTAD.
Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the
Norwegian _Punch_--a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been
blackmailing Mrs. Helmer by trading on her fears, like a low cowardly
cur. But, in spite of all that--[_clasping his hands_]--there are the
makings of a fine man about me _yet_, Christina!
MRS. LINDEN.
I believe you--at least, I'll chance it. I want some one to care for,
and I'll marry you.
KROGSTAD.
[_Suspiciously._] On condition, I suppose, that I suppress the letter
denouncing Mrs. Helmer?
MRS. LINDEN.
How can you think so? I am her dearest friend; but I can still see her
faults, and it is my firm opinion that a sharp lesson will do her all
the good in the world. She is _much_ too comfortable. So leave the
letter in the box, and come home with me.
KROGSTAD.
I am wildly happy! Engaged to the female cashier of the manager who has
discharged me, our future is bright and secure!
[_He goes out; and_ MRS. LINDEN _sets the furniture straight;
presently a noise is heard outside, and_ HELMER _enters, dragging_
NORA _in. She is in fancy dress, and he in an open black domino._
NORA.
I shan't! It's too early to come away from such a nice party. I _won't_
go to bed!
[_She whimpers._
HELMER.
[_Tenderly._] There'sh a naughty lil' larkie for you, Mrs. Linen!
Poshtively had to drag her 'way! She'sh a capricious lil' girl--from
Capri. 'Scuse me!--'fraid I've been and made a pun. Shan' 'cur again!
Shplendid champagne the Consul gave us--'counts for it! [_Sits down
smiling._] Do you _knit_, Mrs. Cotton?... You shouldn't. Never knit.
'Broider. [_Nodding to her, solemnly._] 'Member that. Alwaysh
_'broider_. More--[_hiccoughing_]--Oriental! Gobblesh you!--goo'ni!
MRS. LINDEN.
I only came in to--to see Nora's costume. Now I've seen it, I'll go.
[_Goes out._
HELMER.
Awful bore that woman--hate boresh! [_Looks at_ NORA, _then comes
nearer._] Oh, you prillil squillikins, I _do_ love you so! Shomehow, I
feel sho lively thishevenin'!
[Illustration: "Oh, you prillil squillikins!"]
NORA.
[_Goes to other side of table._] I won't _have_ all that, Torvald!
HELMER.
Why? ain't you my lil' lark--ain't thish our lil' cage? Ver-_well_, then.
[_A ring._] Rank! confound it all! [_Enter_ Dr. RANK.] Rank, dear old
boy, you've been [_hiccoughs_] going it upstairs. Cap'tal champagne, eh?
'_Shamed_ of you, Rank!
[_He sits down on sofa, and closes his eyes gently._
DR. RANK.
Did you notice it? [_With pride._] It was almost incredible the amount I
contrived to put away. But I shall suffer for it to-morrow.
[_Gloomily._] Heredity again! I wish I was dead! I do.
NORA.
Don't apologise. Torvald was just as bad; but he is always so
good-tempered after champagne.
DOCTOR RANK.
Ah, well, I just looked in to say that I haven't long to live. Don't
weep for me, Mrs. Helmer, it's chronic--and hereditary too. Here are my
P.P.C. cards. I'm a fading flower. Can you oblige me with a cigar?
NORA.
[_With a suppressed smile._] Certainly. Let me give you a light?
[DOCTOR RANK _lights his cigar, after several ineffectual attempts,
and goes out_.
HELMER.
[_Compassionately._] Poo' old Rank--he'sh very bad to-ni'! [_Pulls
himself together._] But I forgot--Bishness--I mean, bu-si-ness--mush be
'tended to. I'll go and see if there are any letters. [_Goes to box._]
Hallo! some one's been at the lock with a hairpin--it's one of _your_
hairpins!
[_Holding it out to her._
NORA.
[_Quickly._] Not mine--one of Bob's, or Ivar's--they both wear hairpins!
HELMER.
[_Turning over letters absently._] You must break them of it--bad habit!
What a lot o' lettersh! _double_ usual quantity. [_Opens_ KROGSTAD'S.]
By Jove! [_Reads it and falls back completely sobered._] What have you
got to say to _this_?
NORA.
[_Crying aloud._] You shan't save me--let me go! I _won't_ be saved!
HELMER.
Save _you_, indeed! Who's going to save _Me_? You miserable little
criminal. [_Annoyed._] Ugh--ugh!
NORA.
[_With hardening expression._] Indeed, Torvald, your singing-bird acted
for the best!
HELMER.
Singing-bird! Your father was a rook--and you take _after_ him. Heredity
again! You have utterly destroyed my happiness. [_Walks round several
times._] Just as I was beginning to get on, too!
NORA.
I have--but I will go away and jump into the water.
HELMER.
What good will _that_ do me? People will say I had a hand in this
business. [_Bitterly._] If you _must_ forge, you might at least put your
dates in correctly! But you never _had_ any principle! [_A ring._] The
front-door bell! [_A fat letter is seen to fall into the box_; HELMER
_takes it, opens it, sees enclosure, and embraces_ NORA.] Krogstad won't
split. See, he returns the forged I.O.U.! Oh, my poor little lark,
_what_ you must have gone through! Come under my wing, my little scared
song-bird.... Eh? you _won't_! Why, what's the matter _now_?
NORA.
[_With cold calm._] I have wings of my own, thank you, Torvald, and I
mean to use them!
HELMER.
What--leave your pretty cage, and [_pathetically_] the old cock bird,
and the poor little innocent eggs!
NORA.
Exactly. Sit down, and we will talk it over first. [_Slowly._] Has it
ever struck you that this is the first time you and I have ever talked
seriously together about serious things?
HELMER.
Come, I do like that! How on earth could we talk about serious things
when your mouth was always full of macaroons?
NORA.
[_Shakes her head._] Ah, Torvald, the mouth of a mother of a family
should have more solemn things in it than macaroons! I see that now, too
late. No, you have wronged me. So did papa. Both of you called me a
doll, and a squirrel, and a lark! You might have made something of
me--and instead of that, you went and made too much of me--oh, you
_did_!
HELMER.
Well, you didn't seem to object to it, and really I don't exactly see
what it is you _do_ want!
NORA.
No more do I--that is what I have got to find out. If I had been
properly educated, I should have known better than to date poor papa's
signature three days after he died. Now I must educate _myself_. I have
to gain experience, and get clear about religion, and law, and things,
and whether Society is right or I am--and I must go away and never come
back any more till I _am_ educated!
HELMER.
Then you may be away some little time? And what's to become of me and
the eggs meanwhile?
NORA.
That, Torvald, is entirely your own affair. I have a higher duty than
that towards you and the eggs. [_Looking solemnly upward._] I mean my
duty towards Myself!
HELMER.
And all this because--in a momentary annoyance at finding myself in the
power of a discharged cashier who calls me "I say, Torvald," I expressed
myself with ultra-Gilbertian frankness! You talk like a silly child!
NORA.
Because my eyes are opened, and I see my position with the eyes of
Ibsen. I must go away at once, and begin to educate myself.
HELMER.
May I ask how you are going to set about it?
NORA.
Certainly. I shall begin--yes, I shall _begin_ with a course of the
Norwegian theatres. If _that_ doesn't take the frivolity out of me, I
don't really know what _will_!
[_She gets her bonnet and ties it tightly._
HELMER.
Then you are really going? And you'll never think about me and the eggs
any more! Oh, Nora!
NORA.
Indeed, I shall--occasionally--as strangers.
[_She puts on a shawl sadly, and fetches her dressing-bag._] If I ever
do come back, the greatest miracle of all will have to happen. Good-bye!
[_She goes out through the hall; the front door is heard to bang
loudly._
HELMER.
[_Sinking on a chair._] The room empty? Then she must be gone! Yes, my
little lark has flown! [_The dull sound of an unskilled latchkey is
heard trying the lock; presently the door opens, and_ NORA, _with a
somewhat foolish expression, reappears._] What? back already! Then you
_are_ educated?
NORA.
[_Puts down dressing-bag._] No, Torvald, not yet. Only, you see, I found
I had only threepence-halfpenny in my purse, and the Norwegian theatres
are all closed at this hour--and so I thought I wouldn't leave the cage
till to-morrow--after breakfast.
HELMER.
[_As if to himself._] The greatest miracle of all has happened. My
little bird is not in the bush _just_ yet!
[NORA _takes down a showily-bound dictionary from the shelf and
begins her education;_ HELMER _fetches a bag of macaroons, sits
near her, and tenders one humbly. A pause._ NORA _repulses it,
proudly. He offers it again. She snatches at it suddenly, still
without looking at him, and nibbles it thoughtfully as Curtain
falls._
* * * * *
HEDDA GABLER
ACT FIRST
SCENE--_A sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours. Broad
doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a
back drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs
a posthumous portrait of the late_ GENERAL GABLER. _On the piano is
a handsome pall. Through the glass panes of the back drawing-room
window are seen a dead wall and a cemetery. Settees, sofas, chairs,
&c., handsomely upholstered in black bombazine, and studded with
small round nails. Bouquets of immortelles and dead grasses are
lying everywhere about._
_Enter_ AUNT JULIE (_a good-natured-looking lady in a smart hat._)
AUNT JULIE.
Well, I declare, if I believe George or Hedda are up yet! [_Enter_
GEORGE TESMAN, _humming, stout, careless, spectacled._] Ah, my dear boy,
I have called before breakfast to inquire how you and Hedda are after
returning late last night from your long honeymoon. Oh, dear me, yes; am
I not your old aunt, and are not these attentions usual in Norway?
GEORGE.
Good Lord, yes! My six months' honeymoon has been quite a little
travelling scholarship, eh? I have been examining archives. Think of
_that_! Look here, I'm going to write a book all about the domestic
interests of the Cave-dwellers during the Deluge. I'm a clever young
Norwegian man of letters, eh?
AUNT JULIE.
Fancy your knowing about that too! Now, dear me, thank Heaven!
GEORGE.
Let me, as a dutiful Norwegian nephew, untie that smart, showy hat of
yours. [_Unties it, and pats her under the chin._] Well, to be sure, you
have got yourself really up--fancy that!
[_He puts hat on chair close to table._
AUNT JULIE.
[_Giggling._] It was for Hedda's sake--to go out walking with her in.
[HEDDA _approaches from the back-room; she is pallid, with cold, open,
steel-grey eyes; her hair is not very thick, but what there is of it is
an agreeable medium brown._] Ah, dear Hedda!
[_She attempts to cuddle her._
HEDDA.
[_Shrinking back._] Ugh, let me go, do! [_Looking at_ AUNT JULIE'S
_hat._] Tesman, you must really tell the housemaid not to leave her old
hat about on the drawing-room chairs. Oh, is it _your_ hat? Sorry I
spoke, I'm sure!
AUNT JULIE.
[_Annoyed._] Good gracious, little Mrs. Hedda; my nice new hat that I
bought to go out walking with _you_ in!
GEORGE.
[_Patting her on the back._] Yes, Hedda, she did, and the parasol too!
Fancy, Aunt Julie always positively thinks of everything, eh?
HEDDA.
[_Coldly._] You hold _your_ tongue. Catch me going out walking with your
aunt! One doesn't _do_ such things.
GEORGE.
[_Beaming._] Isn't she a charming woman? Such fascinating manners! My
goodness, eh? Fancy that!
AUNT JULIE.
Ah, dear George, you ought indeed to be happy--but [_brings out a flat
package wrapped in newspaper_] look _here_, my dear boy!
GEORGE.
[_Opens it._] What? my dear old morning shoes! my slippers! [_Breaks
down._] This is positively too touching, Hedda, eh? Do you remember how
badly I wanted them all the honeymoon? Come and just have a look at
them--you _may_!
HEDDA.