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 J._ 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 J._ 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 J._ (_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 J._ (_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 J._ 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._ Bother your old slippers and your old aunt too! (Aunt JULIE _goes
out annoyed, followed by_ GEORGE, _still thanking her warmly for the
slippers_; HEDDA _yawns_; GEORGE _comes back and places his old slippers
reverently on the table._) Why, here comes Mrs. ELVSTED--_another_ early
caller! She had irritating hair, and went about making a sensation with
it--an old flame of yours, I've heard.
_Enter Mrs._ ELVSTED; _she is pretty and gentle, with copious wavy
white-gold hair and round prominent eyes, and the manner of a frightened
rabbit._
_Mrs. E._ (_nervous_). Oh, please, I'm so perfectly in despair. EJLERT
LÖVBORG, you know, who was our Tutor; he's written such a large new book. I
inspired him. Oh, I know I don't look like it--but I did--he told me so.
And, good gracious, now he's in this dangerous wicked town all alone, and
he's a reformed character, and I'm _so_ frightened about him; so, as the
wife of a Sheriff twenty years older than me, I came up to look after Mr.
LÖVBORG. Do ask him here--then I can meet him. You will? How perfectly
lovely of you! My husband's _so_ fond of him!
_Hedda._ GEORGE, go and write an invitation at once; do you hear? (GEORGE
_looks around for his slippers, takes them up and goes out._) Now we can
talk, my little THEA. Do you remember how I used to pull your hair when we
met on the stairs, and say I would scorch it off? Seeing people with
copious hair always _does_ irritate me.
_Mrs. E._ Goodness, yes, you were always so playful and friendly, and I was
so afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've run away from my husband.
Everything around him was distasteful to me. And Mr. LÖVBORG and I were
comrades--he was dissipated, and I got a sort of power over him, and he
made a real person out of me--which I wasn't before, you know; but, oh, I
do hope I'm real now. He talked to me and taught me to think--chiefly of
him. So, when Mr. LÖVBORG came here, naturally I came too. There was
nothing else to do! And fancy, there is another woman whose shadow still
stands between him and me! She wanted to shoot him once, and so, of course,
he can never forget her. I wish I knew her name--perhaps it was that
red-haired opera-singer?
_Hedda_ (_with cold self-command_). Very likely--but nobody does that sort
of thing here. Hush! Run away now. Here comes TESMAN with Judge BRACK.
(Mrs. E. _goes out_; GEORGE _comes in with_ Judge BRACK, _who is a short
and elastic gentleman, with a round face, carefully brushed hair, and
distinguished profile._) How awfully funny you do look by daylight, Judge!
[Illustration: "I am a gay Norwegian dog."]
_Brack_ (_holding his hat and dropping his eye-glass_). Sincerest thanks.
Still the same graceful manners, dear little Mrs. HED--TESMAN! I came to
invite dear TESMAN to a little bachelor-party to celebrate his return from
his long honeymoon. It is customary in Scandinavian society. It will be a
lively affair, for I am a gay Norwegian dog.
_George._ Asked out--without my wife! Think of that! Eh? Oh, dear me, yes,
_I_'ll come!
_Brack._ By the way, LÖVBORG is here; he has written a wonderful book,
which has made a quite extraordinary sensation. Bless me, yes!
_George._ LÖVBORG--fancy! Well, I _am_--glad. Such marvellous gifts! And I
was so painfully certain he had gone to the bad. Fancy that, eh? But what
will become of him _now_, poor fellow, eh? I _am_ so anxious to know!
_Brack._ Well, he may possibly put up for the Professorship against you,
and, though you _are_ an uncommonly clever man of letters--for a
Norwegian--it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out!
_George._ But, look here, good Lord, Judge BRACK!--(_gesticulating_)--that
would show an incredible want of consideration for me! I married on my
chance of _getting_ that Professorship. A man like LÖVBORG, too, who hasn't
even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that!
_Brack._ Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons
here, and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself! [_He
goes out._
_George_ (_to Hedda_). Oh, I say, HEDDA, what's to become of our Fairyland
now, eh? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner-parties, or have
a horse for riding. Fancy that!
_Hedda_ (_slowly, and wearily_). No, we shall really have to set up as
Fairies in reduced circumstances, now.
_George_ (_cheering up_). Still, we shall see Aunt JULIE every day, and
_that_ will be something, and I've got back my old slippers. We shan't be
altogether without some amusements, eh?
_Hedda_ (_crosses the floor_). Not while I have _one_ thing to amuse myself
with, at all events.
_George_ (_beaming with joy_). Oh, Heaven be praised and thanked for that!
My goodness, so you have! And what may _that_ be, HEDDA, eh?
_Hedda_ (_at the doorway, with suppressed scorn_). Yes, GEORGE, you have
the old slippers of the attentive Aunt, and I have the horse-pistols of the
deceased General!
_George_ (_in an agony_). The pistols! Oh, my goodness! _what_ pistols?
_Hedda_ (_with cold eyes_). General GABLER'S pistols--same which I
shot--(_recollecting herself_)--no, that's THACKERAY, not IBSEN--a _very_
different person. [_She goes through the back Drawing-room._
_George_ (_at doorway, shouting after her_). Dearest HEDDA, _not_ those
dangerous things, eh? Why, they have never once been known to shoot
straight yet! Don't! Have a catapult. For _my_ sake, have a catapult!
[_Curtain._
* * * * *
Bow-Wow!
The RAIKES' teeth were bared--a most terrible sight!--
At the Messenger Companies. Now all seems joy
For the Public, the P.O., the Co., and the Boy!
The Dog in the Manger JOHN BULL did affright,
But--his bark is perhaps rather worse than his bite!
* * * * *
[Illustration: SONS OF BRITANNIA; OR, THE UNITED SERVICE.
[The Senior Admiral of the Fleet, SIR PROVO WILLIAM PARRY WALLIS, G.C.B.,
who was in the action between the British Frigate _Shannon_ and the
American Frigate _Chesapeake_ on June 1st, 1813 (taking command of the
_Shannon_ after the disabling of Captain BROKE), celebrated the hundredth
anniversary of his birthday on April 12th, 1891.
Lieutenant GRANT "displayed great bravery and judgment" (_Times_) in the
defence of Thobal against the Manipuris, April, 1891.]]
* * * * *