Volume 100 / Act 4 — ACT IV.

Same Scene. GREGERS enters, and finds GINA retouching photographs.

Gregers (pleasantly). HIALMAR not come in yet, after last night, I suppose?

Gina. Not he! He's been out on the loose all night with RELLING and MÖLVIK. Now he's snoring on their sofa.

Gregers (disappointed.) Dear!—dear!—when he ought to be yearning to wrestle in solitude and self-examination!

Gina (rudely). Self-examine your grandmother!

[She goes out; HEDVIG comes in.

Gregers (to Hedvig). Ah, I see you haven't found courage to settle the Wild Duck yet!

Hedvig. No—it seemed such a delightful idea at first. Now it strikes me as a trifle—well, Ibsenish.

Gregers (reprovingly). I thought you hadn't grown up quite unharmed in this house! But if you really had the true, joyous spirit of self-sacrifice, you'd have a shot at that Wild Duck, if you died for it!

Hedvig (slowly). I see; you mean that my constitution's changing, and I ought to behave as such?

Gregers. Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"—but I believe in you, HEDVIG.

[HEDVIG takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes into the garret with flashing eyes; GINA comes in.

Hialmar (looking in at door with hesitation; he is unwashed and dishevelled). Has anybody happened to see my hat?

Gina. Gracious, what a sight you are! Sit down and have some breakfast, do. [She brings it.

Hialmar (indignantly). What! touch food under this roof? Never! (Helps himself to bread-and-butter and coffee.) Go and pack up my scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my portmanteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare room for another day or two—it won't be the same as living with you!

[He takes some salt meat.

Gregers. Must you go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build upon—thanks to me! Then there's your great invention, too.

Hialmar. Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention because, although it doesn't exist yet, I thought HEDVIG believed in it, with all the strength of her sweet little shortsighted eyes! But now I don't believe in HEDVIG!

[He pours himself out another cup of coffee.

Gregers (earnestly). But, HIALMAR, if I can prove to you that she is ready to sacrifice her cherished Wild Duck? See!

[He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers HEDVIG aiming at the Wild Duck with the butt-end of the pistol. Tableau.

Gina (excitedly). But don't you see? It's the pigstol—that fatal Norwegian weapon which, in Ibsenian dramas, never shoots straight! And she has got it by the wrong end too. She will shoot herself!

Gregers (quietly). She will! Let the child make amends. It will be a most realistic and impressive finale!

Gina. No, no—put down the pigstol, HEDVIG. Do you hear, child?

Hedvig (still aiming). I hear—but I shan't unless father tells me to.

Gregers. HIALMAR, show the great soul I always said you had. This sorrow will set free what is noble in you. Don't spoil a fine situation. Be a man! Let the child shoot herself!

Hialmar (irresolutely). Well, really I don't know. There's a good deal in what GREGERS says. Hm!

Gina. A good deal of tomfool rubbish! I'm illiterate, I know. I've been a Wild Duck in my time, and I waddle. But for all that, I'm the only person in the play with a grain of common-sense. And I'm sure—whatever Mr. IBSEN or GREGERS choose to say—that a screaming burlesque like this ought not to end like a tragedy—even in this queer Norway of ours! And it shan't, either! Tell the child to put that nasty pigstol down and come away, do!

Hialmar (yielding). Ah, well, I am a farcical character myself, after all. Don't touch a hair of that duck's head, HEDVIG. Come to my arms and all shall be forgiven!

[HEDVIG throws down the pistol,—which goes off and kills a rabbit—and rushes into her father's arms. Old EKDAL comes out of a corner with a fowl on each shoulder, and bursts into tears. Affecting family picture.

Gregers (annoyed). It's all very pretty, I dare say—but it's not IBSEN! My real mission is to be the thirteenth at table. I don't know what I mean—but I fly to fulfil it! [He goes.

Hialmar. And now we've got rid of him, HEDVIG, fetch me the deed of gift I tore up, and a slip of paper, and a penny bottle of gum, and we'll soon make a valid instrument of it again!

[He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain slowly descends.

THE END (with apologies as before.)