THE WILD DUCK. PLAY IN FIVE ACTS. (continued 2)

Gregers.

Yes, I understand it well enough.

Hialmar.

I cannot. And once more the pistol played a part in the history of our house. When he had put on the grey clothes and was under lock and 298key—oh, that was a terrible time for me, I can tell you. I kept the blinds drawn down over both my windows. When I peeped out, I saw the sun shining as if nothing had happened. I could not understand it. I saw people going along the street, laughing and talking about indifferent things. I could not understand it. It seemed to me that the whole of existence must be at a standstill—as if under an eclipse.

Gregers.

I felt like that too, when my mother died.

Hialmar.

It was in such an hour that Hialmar Ekdal pointed the pistol at his own breast.

Gregers.

You too thought of——!

Hialmar.

Yes.

Gregers.

But you did not fire?

Hialmar.

No. At the decisive moment I won the victory over myself. I remained in life. But I can assure you it takes some courage to choose life under circumstances like those.

Gregers.

Well, that depends on how you look at it.

Hialmar.

Yes, indeed, it takes courage. But I am glad I 299was firm: for now I shall soon perfect my invention; and Dr. Relling thinks, as I do myself, that father may be allowed to wear his uniform again. I will demand that as my sole reward.

Gregers.

So that is what he meant about his uniform——?

Hialmar.

Yes, that is what he most yearns for. You can’t think how my heart bleeds for him. Every time we celebrate any little family festival—Gina’s and my wedding-day, or whatever it may be—in comes the old man in the lieutenant’s uniform of happier days. But if he only hears a knock at the door—for he daren’t show himself to strangers, you know—he hurries back to his room again as fast as his old legs can carry him. Oh, it’s heartrending for a son to see such things!

Gregers.

How long do you think it will take you to finish your invention?

Hialmar.

Come now, you mustn’t expect me to enter into particulars like that. An invention is not a thing completely under one’s own control. It depends largely on inspiration—on intuition—and it is almost impossible to predict when the inspiration may come.

Gregers.

But it’s advancing?

Hialmar.

Yes, certainly, it is advancing. I turn it over in 300my mind every day; I am full of it. Every afternoon, when I have had my dinner, I shut myself up in the parlour, where I can ponder undisturbed. But I can’t be goaded to it; it’s not a bit of good; Relling says so too.

Gregers.

And you don’t think that all that business in the garret draws you off and distracts you too much?

Hialmar.

No no no; quite the contrary. You mustn’t say that. I cannot be everlastingly absorbed in the same laborious train of thought. I must have something alongside of it to fill up the time of waiting. The inspiration, the intuition, you see—when it comes, it comes, and there’s an end of it.

Gregers.

My dear Hialmar, I almost think you have something of the wild duck in you.

Hialmar.

Something of the wild duck? How do you mean?

Gregers.

You have dived down and bitten yourself fast in the undergrowth.

Hialmar.

Are you alluding to the well-nigh fatal shot that has broken my father’s wing—and mine too?

Gregers.

Not exactly to that. I don’t say that your wing has been broken; but you have strayed into a 301poisonous marsh, Hialmar; an insidious disease has taken hold of you, and you have sunk down to die in the dark.

Hialmar.

I? To die in the dark? Look here, Gregers, you must really leave off talking such nonsense.

Gregers.

Don’t be afraid; I shall find a way to help you up again. I too have a mission in life now; I found it yesterday.

Hialmar.

That’s all very well; but you will please leave me out of it. I can assure you that—apart from my very natural melancholy, of course—I am as contented as any one can wish to be.

Gregers.

Your contentment is an effect of the marsh poison.

Hialmar.

Now, my dear Gregers, pray do not go on about disease and poison; I am not used to that sort of talk. In my house nobody ever speaks to me about unpleasant things.

Gregers.

Ah, that I can easily believe.

Hialmar.

It’s not good for me you see. And there are no marsh poisons here, as you express it. The poor photographer’s roof is lowly, I know—and my circumstances are narrow. But I am an inventor, and I am the breadwinner of a family. That exalts 302me above my mean surroundings.—Ah, here comes lunch!

Gina and Hedvig bring bottles of ale, a decanter of brandy, glasses, etc. At the same time, Relling and Molvik enter from the passage; they are both without hat or overcoat. Molvik is dressed in black.

Gina.

[Placing the things upon the table.] Ah, you two have come in the nick of time.

Relling.

Molvik got it into his head that he could smell herring-salad, and then there was no holding him.—Good morning again, Ekdal.

Hialmar.

Gregers, let me introduce you to Mr. Molvik. Doctor—— Oh, you know Relling, don’t you?

Gregers.

Yes, slightly.

Relling.

Oh, Mr. Werle, junior! Yes, we two have had one or two little skirmishes up at the Höidal works. You’ve just moved in?

Gregers.

I moved in this morning.

Relling.

Molvik and I live right under you; so you haven’t far to go for the doctor and the clergyman, if you should need anything in that line.

303Gregers.

Thanks, it’s not quite unlikely; for yesterday we were thirteen at table.

Hialmar.

Oh, come now, don’t let us get upon unpleasant subjects again!

Relling.

You may make your mind easy, Ekdal; I'll be hanged if the finger of fate points to you.

Hialmar.

I should hope not, for the sake of my family. But let us sit down now, and eat and drink and be merry.

Gregers.

Shall we not wait for your father?

Hialmar.

No, his lunch will be taken in to him later. Come along!

[The men seat themselves at table, and eat and drink. Gina and Hedvig go in and out and wait upon them.

Relling.

Molvik was frightfully screwed yesterday, Mrs. Ekdal.

Gina.

Really? Yesterday again?

Relling.

Didn’t you hear him when I brought him home last night?night?

304Gina.

No, I can’t say I did.

Relling.

That was a good thing, for Molvik was disgusting last night.

Gina.

Is that true, Molvik?

Molvik.

Let us draw a veil over last night’s proceedings. That sort of thing is totally foreign to my better self.

Relling.

[To Gregers.] It comes over him like a sort of possession, and then I have to go out on the loose with him. Mr. Molvik is dæmonic, you see.

Gregers.

Dæmonic?

Relling.

Molvik is dæmonic, yes.

Gregers.

H'm.

Relling.

And dæmonic natures are not made to walk straight through the world; they must meander a little now and then.—Well, so you still stick up there at those horrible grimy works?

Gregers.

I have stuck there until now.

Relling.

And did you ever manage to collect that claim you went about presenting?

305Gregers.

Claim? [Understands him.] Ah, I see.

Hialmar.

Have you been presenting claims, Gregers?

Gregers.

Oh, nonsense.

Relling.

Faith, but he has, though! He went round to all the cottars' cabins presenting something he called “the claim of the ideal.”

Gregers.

I was young then.

Relling.

You’re right; you were very young. And as for the claim of the ideal—you never got it honoured while I was up there.

Gregers.

Nor since either.

Relling.

Ah, then you’ve learnt to knock a little discount off, I expect.

Gregers.

Never, when I have a true man to deal with.

Hialmar.

No, I should think not, indeed. A little butter, Gina.

Relling.

And a slice of bacon for Molvik.

Molvik.

Ugh! not bacon! [A knock at the garret door.

306Hialmar.

Open the door, Hedvig; father wants to come out.

[Hedvig goes over and opens the door a little way; Ekdal enters with a fresh rabbit-skin; she closes the door after him.

Ekdal.

Good morning, gentlemen! Good sport to-day. Shot a big one.

Hialmar.

And you’ve gone and skinned it without waiting for me——!

Ekdal.

Salted it too. It’s good tender meat, is rabbit; it’s sweet; it tastes like sugar. Good appetite to you, gentlemen! [Goes into his room.

Molvik.

[Rising.] Excuse me——; I can’t——; I must get downstairs immediately——

Relling.

Drink some soda water, man!

Molvik.

[Hurrying away.] Ugh—ugh!

[Goes out by the passage door.

Relling.

[To Hialmar.] Let us drain a glass to the old hunter.

Hialmar.

[Clinks glasses with him.] To the undaunted sportsman who has looked death in the face!

307Relling.

To the grey-haired—— [Drinks.] By-the-bye, is his hair grey or white?

Hialmar.

Something between the two, I fancy; for that matter, he has very few hairs left of any colour.

Relling.

Well well, one can get through the world with a wig. After all, you are a happy man, Ekdal; you have your noble mission to labour for——

Hialmar.

And I do labour, I can tell you.

Relling.

And then you have your excellent wife, shuffling quietly in and out in her felt slippers, with that see-saw walk of hers, and making everything cosy and comfortable about you.

Hialmar.

Yes, Gina—[Nods to her]—you are a good helpmate on the path of life.

Gina.

Oh, don’t sit there cricketizing me.me.

Relling.

And your Hedvig too, Ekdal!

Hialmar.

[Affected.] The child, yes! The child before everything! Hedvig, come here to me. [Strokes her hair.] What day is it to-morrow, eh?

308Hedvig.

[Shaking him.] Oh no, you’re not to say anything, father.father.

Hialmar.

It cuts me to the heart when I think what a poor affair it will be; only a little festivity in the garret——

Hedvig.

Oh, but that’s just what I like!

Relling.

Just you wait till the wonderful invention sees the light, Hedvig!

Hialmar.

Yes indeed—then you shall see——! Hedvig, I have resolved to make your future secure. You shall live in comfort all your days. I will demand—something or other—on your behalf. That shall be the poor inventor’s sole reward.

Hedvig.

[Whispering, with her arms round his neck.] Oh you dear, kind father!

Relling.

[To Gregers.] Come now, don’t you find it pleasant, for once in a way, to sit at a well-spread table in a happy family circle?

Hialmar.

Ah yes, I really prize these social hours.

Gregers.

For my part, I don’t thrive in marsh vapours.

309Relling.

Marsh vapours?

Hialmar.

Oh, don’t begin with that stuff again!

Gina.

Goodness knows there’s no vapours in this house, Mr. Werle; I give the place a good airing every blessed day.

Gregers.

[Leaves the table.] No airing you can give will drive out the taint I mean.

Hialmar.

Taint!

Gina.

Yes, what do you say to that, Ekdal!

Relling.

Excuse me—may it not be you yourself that have brought the taint from those mines up there?

Gregers.

It is like you to call what I bring into this house a taint.

Relling.

[Goes up to him.] Look here, Mr Werle, junior: I have a strong suspicion that you are still carrying about that “claim of the ideal” large as life, in your coat-tail pocket.

Gregers.

I carry it in my breast.breast.

310Relling.

Well, wherever you carry it, I advise you not to come dunning us with it here, so long as I am on the premises.

Gregers.

And if I do so none the less?

Relling.

Then you’ll go head-foremost down the stairs; now I've warned you.

Hialmar.

[Rising.] Oh, but Relling——!

Gregers.

Yes, you may turn me out——

Gina.

[Interposing between them.] We can’t have that, Relling. But I must say, Mr. Werle, it ill becomes you to talk about vapours and taints, after all the mess you made with your stove.

[A knock at the passage door.

Hedvig.

Mother, there’s somebody knocking.

Hialmar.

There now, we’re going to have a whole lot of people!

Gina.

I'll go—— [Goes over and opens the door, starts, and draws back.] Oh—oh dear!

Werle, in a fur coat, advances one step into the room.

311Werle.

Excuse me; but I think my son is staying here.

Gina.

[With a gulp.] Yes.

Hialmar.

[Approaching him.] Won’t you do us the honour to——?

Werle.

Thank you, I merely wish to speak to my son.

Gregers.

What is it? Here I am.

Werle.

I want a few words with you, in your room.

Gregers.

In my room? Very well—— [About to go.

Gina.

No, no, your room’s not in a fit state——

Werle.

Well then, out in the passage here; I want to have a few words with you alone.

Hialmar.

You can have them here, sir. Come into the parlour, Relling.

[Hialmar and Relling go off to the right. Gina takes Hedvig with her into the kitchen.

312Gregers.

[After a short pause.] Well, now we are alone.

Werle.

From something you let fall last evening, and from your coming to lodge with the Ekdals, I can’t help inferring that you intend to make yourself unpleasant to me, in one way or another.

Gregers.

I intend to open Hialmar Ekdal’s eyes. He shall see his position as it really is—that is all.

Werle.

Is that the mission in life you spoke of yesterday?

Gregers.

Yes. You have left me no other.

Werle.

Is it I, then, that have crippled your mind, Gregers?

Gregers.

You have crippled my whole life. I am not thinking of all that about mother—— But it’s thanks to you that I am continually haunted and harassed by a guilty conscience.

Werle.

Indeed! It is your conscience that troubles you, is it?

Gregers.

I ought to have taken a stand against you when the trap was set for Lieutenant Ekdal. I ought 313to have cautioned him; for I had a misgiving as to what was in the wind.

Werle.

Yes, that was the time to have spoken.

Gregers.

I did not dare to, I was so cowed and spiritless. I was mortally afraid of you—not only then, but long afterwards.

Werle.

You have got over that fear now, it appears.

Gregers.

Yes, fortunately. The wrong done to old Ekdal, both by me and by—others, can never be undone; but Hialmar I can rescue from all the falsehood and deception that are bringing him to ruin.

Werle.

Do you think that will be doing him a kindness?

Gregers.

I have not the least doubt of it.

Werle.

You think our worthy photographer is the sort of man to appreciate such friendly offices?

Gregers.

Yes, I do.

Werle.

H'm—we shall see.

314Gregers.

Besides, if I am to go on living, I must try to find some cure for my sick conscience.

Werle.

It will never be sound. Your conscience has been sickly from childhood. That is a legacy from your mother, Gregers—the only one she left you.

Gregers.

[With a scornful half-smile.] Have you not yet forgiven her for the mistake you made in supposing she would bring you a fortune?

Werle.

Don’t let us wander from the point.—Then you hold to your purpose of setting young Ekdal upon what you imagine to be the right scent?

Gregers.

Yes, that is my fixed resolve.

Werle.

Well, in that case I might have spared myself this visit; for of course it is useless to ask whether you will return home with me?

Gregers.

Quite useless.

Werle.

And I suppose you won’t enter the firm either?

Gregers.

No.

315Werle.

Very good. But as I am thinking of marrying again, your share in the property will fall to you at once.^[18]

Gregers.

[Quickly.] No, I do not want that.

Werle.

You don’t want it?

Gregers.

No, I dare not take it, for conscience' sake.

Werle.

[After a pause.] Are you going up to the works again?

Gregers.

No; I consider myself released from your service.

Werle.

But what are you going to do?

Gregers.

Only to fulfil my mission; nothing more.

Werle.

Well, but afterwards? What are you going to live upon?

Gregers.

I have laid by a little out of my salary.

316Werle.

How long will that last?

Gregers.

I think it will last my time.

Werle.

What do you mean?

Gregers.

I shall answer no more questions.

Werle.

Good-bye then, Gregers.

Gregers.

Good-bye.

Werle goes.

Hialmar.

[Peeping in.] He’s gone, isn’t he?

Gregers.

Yes.

Hialmar and Relling enter; also Gina and Hedvig from the kitchen.

Relling.

That luncheon-party was a failure.

Gregers.

Put on your coat, Hialmar; I want you to come for a long walk with me.

Hialmar.

With pleasure. What was it your father wanted? Had it anything to do with me?

317Gregers.

Come along. We must have a talk. I'll go and put on my overcoat.

[Goes out by the passage door.

Gina.

You shouldn’t go out with him, Ekdal.

Relling.

No, don’t you do it. Stay where you are.

Hialmar.

[Gets his hat and overcoat.] Oh, nonsense! When a friend of my youth feels impelled to open his mind to me in private——

Relling.

But devil take it—don’t you see that the fellow’s mad, cracked, demented!

Gina.

There, what did I tell you! His mother before him had crazy fits like that sometimes.

Hialmar.

The more need for a friend’s watchful eye. [To Gina.] Be sure you have dinner ready in good time. Good-bye for the present.

[Goes out by the passage door.

Relling.

It’s a thousand pities the fellow didn’t go to hell through one of the Höidal mines.

Gina.

Good Lord! what makes you say that?

318Relling.

[Muttering.] Oh, I have my own reasons.

Gina.

Do you think young Werle is really mad?

Relling.

No, worse luck; he’s no madder than most other people. But one disease he has certainly got in his system.

Gina.

What is it that’s the matter with him?

Relling.

Well, I'll tell you, Mrs. Ekdal. He is suffering from an acute attack of integrity.

Gina.

Integrity?

Hedvig.

Is that a kind of disease?

Relling.

Yes, it’s a national disease; but it only appears sporadically. [Nods to Gina.] Thanks for your hospitality.

[He goes out by the passage door.

Gina.

[Moving restlessly to and fro.] Ugh, that Gregers Werle—he was always a wretched creature.

Hedvig.

[Standing by the table, and looking searchingly at her.] I think all this is very strange.

319

ACT FOURTH.

Hialmar Ekdal’s studio. A photograph has just been taken; a camera with the cloth over it, a pedestal, two chairs, a folding table, etc., are standing out in the room. Afternoon light; the sun is going down; a little later it begins to grow dusk.

Gina stands in the passage doorway, with a little box and a wet glass plate in her hand, and is speaking to somebody outside.

Gina.

Yes, certainly. When I make a promise I keep it. The first dozen shall be ready on Monday. Good afternoon.

[Some one is heard going downstairs. Gina shuts the door, slips the plate into the box, and puts it into the covered camera.

Hedvig.

[Comes in from the kitchen.] Are they gone?

Gina.

[Tidying up.] Yes, thank goodness, I've got rid of them at last.

Hedvig.

But can you imagine why father hasn’t come home yet?

Gina.

Are you sure he’s not down in Relling’s room?

320Hedvig.

No, he’s not; I ran down the kitchen stair just now and asked.

Gina.

And his dinner standing and getting cold, too.

Hedvig.

Yes, I can’t understand it. Father’s always so careful to be home to dinner!

Gina.

Oh, he’ll be here directly, you’ll see.

Hedvig.

I wish he would come; everything seems so queer to-day.

Gina.

[Calls out.] There he is!

Hialmar Ekdal comes in at the passage door.

Hedvig.

[Going to him.] Father! Oh what a time we’ve been waiting for you!

Gina.

[Glancing sidelong at him.] You’ve been out a long time, Ekdal.

Hialmar.

[Without looking at her.] Rather long, yes.

[He takes off his overcoat; Gina and Hedvig go to help him; he motions them away.

Gina.

Perhaps you’ve had dinner with Werle?

321Hialmar.

[Hanging up his coat.] No.

Gina.

[Going towards the kitchen door.] Then I'll bring some in for you.

Hialmar.

No; let the dinner alone. I want nothing to eat.

Hedvig.

[Going nearer to him.] Are you not well, father?

Hialmar.

Well? Oh yes, well enough. We have had a tiring walk, Gregers and I.

Gina.

You didn’t ought to have gone so far, Ekdal;Ekdal; you’re not used to it.

Hialmar.

H'm; there’s many a thing a man must get used to in this world. [Wanders about the room.] Has any one been here whilst I was out?

Gina.

Nobody but the two sweethearts.

Hialmar.

No new orders?

Gina.

No, not to-day.

Hedvig.

There will be some to-morrow, father, you’ll see.

322Hialmar.

I hope there will; for to-morrow I am going to set to work in real earnest.

Hedvig.

To-morrow! Don’t you remember what day it is to-morrow?

Hialmar.

Oh yes, by-the-bye——. Well, the day after, then. Henceforth I mean to do everything myself; I shall take all the work into my own hands.

Gina.

Why, what can be the good of that, Ekdal? It’ll only make your life a burden to you. I can manage the photography all right; and you can go on working at your invention.

Hedvig.

And think of the wild duck, father,—and all the hens and rabbits and——!

Hialmar.

Don’t talk to me of all that trash! From to-morrow I will never set foot in the garret again.

Hedvig.

Oh but, father, you promised that we should have a little party——

Hialmar.

H'm, true. Well then, from the day after tomorrow. I should almost like to wring that cursëd wild duck’s neck!

Hedvig.

[Shrieks.] The wild duck!

323Gina.

Well I never!

Hedvig.

[Shaking him.] Oh no, father; you know it’s my wild duck!

Hialmar.

That is why I don’t do it. I haven’t the heart to—for your sake, Hedvig. But in my inmost soul I feel that I ought to do it. I ought not to tolerate under my roof a creature that has been through those hands.

Gina.

Why, good gracious, even if grandfather did get it from that poor creature, Pettersen——

Hialmar.

[Wandering about.] There are certain claims—what shall I call them?—let me say claims of the ideal—certain obligations, which a man cannot disregard without injury to his soul.

Hedvig.

[Going after him.] But think of the wild duck,—the poor wild duck!

Hialmar.

[Stops.] I tell you I will spare it—for your sake. Not a hair of its head shall be—I mean, it shall be spared. There are greater problems than that to be dealt with. But you should go out a little now, Hedvig, as usual; it is getting dusk enough for you now.

Hedvig.

No? I don’t care about going out now.

324Hialmar.

Yes do; it seems to me your eyes are blinking a great deal; all these vapours in here are bad for you. The air is heavy under this roof.

Hedvig.

Very well then, I'll run down the kitchen stair and go for a little walk. My cloak and hat?—oh, they’re in my own room. Father—be sure you don’t do the wild duck any harm whilst I'm out.

Hialmar.

Not a feather of its head shall be touched. [Draws her to him.] You and I, Hedvig—we two——! Well, go along.

[Hedvig nods to her parents and goes out through the kitchen.

Hialmar.

[Walks about without looking up.] Gina.

Gina.

Yes?

Hialmar.

From to-morrow—or, say, from the day after to-morrow—I should like to keep the household account-book myself.

Gina.

Do you want to keep the accounts too, now?

Hialmar.

Yes; or to check the receipts at any rate.

Gina.

Lord help us! that’s soon done.

325Hialmar.

One would hardly think so; at any rate you seem to make the money go a very long way. [Stops and looks at her.] How do you manage it?

Gina.

It’s because me and Hedvig, we need so little.

Hialmar.

Is it the case that father is very liberally paid for the copying he does for Mr. Werle?

Gina.

I don’t know as he gets anything out of the way. I don’t know the rates for that sort of work.

Hialmar.

Well, what does he get, about? Let me hear!

Gina.

Oh, it varies; I daresay it’ll come to about as much as he costs us, with a little pocket-money over.

Hialmar.

As much as he costs us! And you have never told me this before!

Gina.

No, how could I tell you? It pleased you so much to think he got everything from you.

Hialmar.

And he gets it from Mr. Werle.

Gina.

Oh well, he has plenty and to spare, he has.

326Hialmar.

Light the lamp for me, please!

Gina.

[Lighting the lamp.] And of course we don’t know as it’s Mr. Werle himself; it may be Gråberg——

Hialmar.

Why attempt such an evasion?

Gina.

I don’t know; I only thought——

Hialmar.

H'm!

Gina.

It wasn’t me that got grandfather that copying. It was Bertha, when she used to come about us.

Hialmar.

It seems to me your voice is trembling.

Gina.

[Putting the lamp-shade on.] Is it?

Hialmar.

And your hands are shaking, are they not?

Gina.

[Firmly.] Come right out with it, Ekdal. What has he been saying about me?

Hialmar.

Is it true—can it be true that—that there was an—an understanding between you and Mr. Werle, while you were in service there?

327Gina.

That’s not true. Not at that time. Mr. Werle did come after me, that’s a fact. And his wife thought there was something in it, and then she made such a hocus-pocus and hurly-burly, and she hustled me and bustled me about so, that I left her service.

Hialmar.

But afterwards, then?

Gina.

Well, then I went home. And mother—well, she wasn’t the woman you took her for, Ekdal; she kept on worrying and worrying at me about one thing and another—for Mr. Werle was a widower by that time.

Hialmar.

Well, and then?

Gina.

I suppose you’ve got to know it. He gave me no peace until he’d had his way.

Hialmar.

[Striking his hands together.] And this is the mother of my child! How could you hide this from me?

Gina.

Yes, it was wrong of me; I ought certainly to have told you long ago.

Hialmar.

You should have told me at the very first;—then I should have known the sort of woman you were.

328Gina.

But would you have married me all the same?

Hialmar.

How can you dream that I would?

Gina.

That’s just why I didn’t dare tell you anything, then. For I'd come to care for you so much, you see; and I couldn’t go and make myself utterly miserable——

Hialmar.

[Walks about.] And this is my Hedvig’s mother. And to know that all I see before me—[Kicks at a chair.]—all that I call my home—I owe to a favoured predecessor! Oh that scoundrel Werle!

Gina.

Do you repent of the fourteen—the fifteen years as we’ve lived together?

Hialmar.

[Placing himself in front of her.] Have you not every day, every hour, repented of the spider’s-web of deceit you have spun around me? Answer me that! How could you help writhing with penitence and remorse?

Gina.

Oh, my dear Ekdal, I've had all I could do to look after the house and get through the day’s work——

Hialmar.

Then you never think of reviewing your past?

329Gina.

No; Heaven knows I'd almost forgotten those old stories.

Hialmar.

Oh, this dull, callous contentment! To me there is something revolting about it. Think of it—never so much as a twinge of remorse!

Gina.

But tell me, Ekdal—what would have become of you if you hadn’t had a wife like me?

Hialmar.

Like you——!

Gina.

Yes; for you know I've always been a bit more practical and wide-awake than you. Of course I'm a year or two older.

Hialmar.

What would have become of me!

Gina.

You’d got into all sorts of bad ways when first you met me; that you can’t deny.

Hialmar.

“Bad ways” do you call them? Little do you know what a man goes through when he is in grief and despair—especially a man of my fiery temperament.

Gina.

Well, well, that may be so. And I've no reason to crow over you, neither; for you turned a moral 330of a husband, that you did, as soon as ever you had a house and home of your own.—And now we’d got everything so nice and cosy about us; and me and Hedvig was just thinking we’d soon be able to let ourselves go a bit, in the way of both food and clothes.

Hialmar.

In the swamp of deceit, yes.

Gina.

I wish to goodness that detestable being had never set his foot inside our doors!

Hialmar.

And I, too, thought my home such a pleasant one. That was a delusion. Where shall I now find the elasticity of spirit to bring my invention into the world of reality? Perhaps it will die with me; and then it will be your past, Gina, that will have killed it.

Gina.

[Nearly crying.] You mustn’t say such things, Ekdal. Me, that has only wanted to do the best I could for you, all my days!

Hialmar.

I ask you, what becomes of the breadwinner’s dream? When I used to lie in there on the sofa and brood over my invention, I had a clear enough presentiment that it would sap my vitality to the last drop. I felt even then that the day when I held the patent in my hand—that day—would bring my—release. And then it was my 331dream that you should live on after me, the dead inventor’s well-to-do widow.

Gina.

[Drying her tears.] No, you mustn’t talk like that, Ekdal. May the Lord never let me see the day I am left a widow!

Hialmar.

Oh, the whole dream has vanished. It is all over now. All over!

Gregers Werle opens the passage door cautiously and looks in.

Gregers.

May I come in?

Hialmar.

Yes, come in.

Gregers.

[Comes forward, his face beaming with satisfaction, and holds out both his hands to them.] Well, dear friends——! [Looks from one to the other, and whispers to Hialmar.] Have you not done it yet?

Hialmar.

[Aloud.] It is done.

Gregers.

It is?

Hialmar.

I have passed through the bitterest moments of my life.

Gregers.

But also, I trust, the most ennobling.

332Hialmar.

Well, at any rate, we have got through it for the present.

Gina.

God forgive you, Mr. Werle.

Gregers.

[In great surprise.] But I don’t understand this.

Hialmar.

What don’t you understand?

Gregers.

After so great a crisis—a crisis that is to be the starting-point of an entirely new life—of a communion founded on truth, and free from all taint of deception——

Hialmar.

Yes yes, I know; I know that quite well.

Gregers.

I confidently expected, when I entered the room, to find the light of transfiguration shining upon me from both husband and wife. And now I see nothing but dulness, oppression, gloom——

Gina.

Oh, is that it? [Takes off the lamp-shade.

Gregers.

You will not understand me, Mrs. Ekdal. Ah well, you, I suppose, need time to——. But you, Hialmar? Surely you feel a new consecration after the great crisis.

333Hialmar.

Yes, of course I do. That is—in a sort of way.

Gregers.

For surely nothing in the world can compare with the joy of forgiving one who has erred, and raising her up to oneself in love.

Hialmar.

Do you think a man can so easily throw off the effects of the bitter cup I have drained?

Gregers.

No, not a common man, perhaps. But a man like you——!

Hialmar.

Good God! I know that well enough. But you must keep me up to it, Gregers. It takes time, you know.

Gregers.

You have much of the wild duck in you, Hialmar.

Relling has come in at the passage door.

Relling.

Oho! is the wild duck to the fore again?

Hialmar.

Yes; Mr. Werle’s wing-broken victim.

Relling.

Mr. Werle’s——? So it’s him you are talking about?

Hialmar.

Him and—ourselves.

334Relling.

[In an undertone to Gregers.] May the devil fly away with you!

Hialmar.

What is that you are saying?

Relling.

Only uttering a heartfelt wish that this quack-salver would take himself off. If he stays here, he is quite equal to making an utter mess of life, for both of you.

Gregers.

These two will not make a mess of life, Mr. Relling. Of course I won’t speak of Hialmar—him we know. But she, too, in her innermost heart, has certainly something loyal and sincere——

Gina.

[Almost crying.] You might have let me alone for what I was, then.

Relling.

[To Gregers.] Is it rude to ask what you really want in this house?

Gregers.

To lay the foundations of a true marriage.

Relling.

So you don’t think Ekdal’s marriage is good enough as it is?

Gregers.

No doubt it is as good a marriage as most others, worse luck. But a true marriage it has yet to become.

335Hialmar.

You have never had eyes for the claims of the ideal, Relling.

Relling.

Rubbish, my boy!—But excuse me, Mr. Werle: how many—in round numbers—how many true marriages have you seen in the course of your life?

Gregers.

Scarcely a single one.

Relling.

Nor I either.

Gregers.

But I have seen innumerable marriages of the opposite kind. And it has been my fate to see at close quarters what ruin such a marriage can work in two human souls.

Hialmar.

A man’s whole moral basis may give away beneath his feet; that is the terrible part of it.

Relling.

Well, I can’t say I've ever been exactly married, so I don’t pretend to speak with authority. But this I know, that the child enters into the marriage problem. And you must leave the child in peace.

Hialmar.

Oh—Hedvig! my poor Hedvig!

Relling.

Yes, you must be good enough to keep Hedvig outside of all this. You two are grown-up people; you are free, in God’s name, to make what mess 336and muddle you please of your life. But you must deal cautiously with Hedvig, I tell you; else you may do her a great injury.

Hialmar.

An injury!

Relling.

Yes, or she may do herself an injury—and perhaps others too.

Gina.

How can you know that, Relling?

Hialmar.

Her sight is in no immediate danger, is it?

Relling.

I am not talking about her sight. Hedvig is at a critical age. She may be getting all sorts of mischief into her head.

Gina.

That’s true—I've noticed it already! She’s taken to carrying on with the fire, out in the kitchen. She calls it playing at house-on-fire. I'm often scared for fear she really sets fire to the house.

Relling.

You see; I thought as much.

Gregers.

[To Relling.] But how do you account for that?

Relling.

[Sullenly.] Her constitution’s changing, sir.

337Hialmar.

So long as the child has me——! So long as I am above ground——!

A knock at the door.

Gina.

Hush, Ekdal; there’s some one in the passage. [Calls out.] Come in!

[Mrs. Sörby, in walking dress, comes in.

Mrs. Sörby.

Good evening.

Gina.

[Going towards her]. Is it really you, Bertha?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, of course it is. But I'm disturbing you, I'm afraid?

Hialmar.

No, not at all; an emissary from that house——

Mrs. Sörby.

[To Gina.] To tell the truth, I hoped your men-folk would be out at this time. I just ran up to have a little chat with you, and to say good-bye.

Gina.

Good-bye? Are you going away, then?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, to-morrow morning,—up to Höidal. Mr. Werle started this afternoon. [Lightly to Gregers.] He asked me to say good-bye for him.

Gina.

Only fancy——!

338Hialmar.

So Mr. Werle has gone? And now you are going after him?

Mrs. Sörby

Yes, what do you say to that, Ekdal?

Hialmar.

I say: beware!

Gregers.

I must explain the situation. My father and Mrs. Sörby are going to be married.

Hialmar.

Going to be married!

Gina.

Oh Bertha! So it’s come to that at last!

Relling.

[His voice quivering a little.] This is surely not true?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, my dear Relling, it’s true enough.

Relling.

You are going to marry again?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, it looks like it. Werle has got a special licence, and we are going to be married quite quietly, up at the works.

Gregers.

Then I must wish you all happiness, like a dutiful stepson.

339Mrs. Sörby.

Thank you very much—if you mean what you say. I certainly hope it will lead to happiness, both for Werle and for me.

Relling.

You have every reason to hope that. Mr. Werle never gets drunk—so far as I know; and I don’t suppose he’s in the habit of thrashing his wives, like the late lamented horse-doctor.

Mrs. Sörby.

Come now, let Sörby rest in peace. He had his good points too.

Relling.

Mr. Werle has better ones, I have no doubt.

Mrs. Sörby.

He hasn’t frittered away all that was good in him, at any rate. The man who does that must take the consequences.

Relling.

I shall go out with Molvik this evening.

Mrs. Sörby.

You musn’t do that, Relling. Don’t do it—for my sake.

Relling.

There’s nothing else for it. [To Hialmar.] If you’re going with us, come along.

Gina.

No, thank you. Ekdal doesn’t go in for that sort of dissertation.

340Hialmar.

[Half aloud, in vexation.] Oh, do hold your tongue!

Relling.

Good-bye, Mrs.—Werle.

[Goes out through the passage door.

Gregers.

[To Mrs. Sörby.] You seem to know Dr. Relling pretty intimately.

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, we have known each other for many years. At one time it seemed as if things might have gone further between us.

Gregers.

It was surely lucky for you that they did not.

Mrs. Sörby.

You may well say that. But I have always been wary of acting on impulse. A woman can’t afford absolutely to throw herself away.

Gregers.

Are you not in the least afraid that I may let my father know about this old friendship?

Mrs. Sörby.

Why, of course I have told him all about it myself.

Gregers.

Indeed?

Mrs. Sörby.

Your father knows every single thing that can, 341with any truth, be said about me. I have told him all; it was the first thing I did when I saw what was in his mind.

Gregers.

Then you have been franker than most people, I think.

Mrs. Sörby.

I have always been frank. We women find that the best policy.

Hialmar.

What do you say to that, Gina?

Gina.

Oh, we’re not all alike, us women aren’t. Some are made one way, some another.

Mrs. Sörby.

Well, for my part, Gina, I believe it’s wisest to do as I've done. And Werle has no secrets either, on his side. That’s really the great bond between us, you see. Now he can talk to me as openly as a child. He has never had the chance to do that before. Fancy a man like him, full of health and vigour, passing his whole youth and the best years of his life in listening to nothing but penitential sermons! And very often the sermons had for their text the most imaginary offences—at least so I understand.

Gina.

That’s true enough.

Gregers.

If you ladies are going to follow up this topic, I had better withdraw.

342Mrs. Sörby.

You can stay so far as that’s concerned. I shan’t say a word more. But I wanted you to know that I had done nothing secretly or in an underhand way. I may seem to have come in for a great piece of luck; and so I have, in a sense. But after all, I don’t think I am getting any more than I am giving. I shall stand by him always, and I can tend and care for him as no one else can, now that he is getting helpless.

Hialmar.

Getting helpless?

Gregers.

[To Mrs. Sörby.] Hush, don’t speak of that here.

Mrs. Sörby.

There is no disguising it any longer, however much he would like to. He is going blind.

Hialmar.

[Starts.] Going blind? That’s strange. He too going blind!

Gina.

Lots of people do.

Mrs. Sörby.

And you can imagine what that means to a business man. Well, I shall try as well as I can to make my eyes take the place of his. But I musn’t stay any longer; I have such heaps of things to do.—Oh, by-the-bye, Ekdal, I was to tell you that if there is anything Werle can do for you, you must just apply to Gråberg.

343Gregers.

That offer I am sure Hialmar Ekdal will decline with thanks.

Mrs. Sörby.

Indeed? I don’t think he used to be so——

Gina.

No, Bertha, Ekdal doesn’t need anything from Mr. Werle now.

Hialmar.

[Slowly, and with emphasis.] Will you present my compliments to your future husband, and say that I intend very shortly to call upon Mr. Gråberg——

Gregers.

What! You don’t really mean that?

Hialmar.

To call upon Mr. Gråberg, I say, and obtain an account of the sum I owe his principal. I will pay that debt of honour—ha ha ha! a debt of honour, let us call it! In any case, I will pay the whole, with five per cent. interest.

Gina.

But, my dear Ekdal, God knows we haven’t got the money to do it.

Hialmar.

Be good enough to tell your future husband that I am working assiduously at my invention. Please tell him that what sustains me in this laborious task is the wish to free myself from a torturing burden of debt. That is my reason for proceeding with the invention. The entire profits 344shall be devoted to releasing me from my pecuniary obligations to your future husband.

Mrs. Sörby.

Something has happened here.

Hialmar.

Yes, you are right.

Mrs. Sörby.

Well, good-bye. I had something else to speak to you about, Gina; but it must keep till another time. Good-bye.

[Hialmar and Gregers bow silently. Gina follows Mrs. Sörby to the door.

Hialmar.

Not beyond the threshold, Gina!

[Mrs. Sörby goes; Gina shuts the door after her.

Hialmar.

There now, Gregers; I have got that burden of debt off my mind.

Gregers.

You soon will, at all events.

Hialmar.

I think my attitude may be called correct.

Gregers.

You are the man I have always taken you for.

Hialmar.

In certain cases, it is impossible to disregard the claim of the ideal. Yet, as the breadwinner 345of a family, I cannot but writhe and groan under it. I can tell you it is no joke for a man without capital to attempt the repayment of a long-standing obligation, over which, so to speak, the dust of oblivion had gathered. But it cannot be helped: the Man in me demands his rights.

Gregers.

[Laying his hand on Hialmar’s shoulder.] My dear Hialmar—was it not a good thing I came?

Hialmar.

Yes.

Gregers.

Are you not glad to have had your true position made clear to you?

Hialmar.

[Somewhat impatiently.] Yes, of course I am. But there is one thing that is revolting to my sense of justice.

Gregers.

And what is that?

Hialmar.

It is that—but I don’t know whether I ought to express myself so unreservedly about your father.

Gregers.

Say what you please, so far as I am concerned.

Hialmar.

Well then, is it not exasperating to think that it is not I, but he, who will realise the true marriage?

Gregers.

How can you say such a thing?

346Hialmar.

Because it is clearly the case. Isn’t the marriage between your father and Mrs. Sörby founded upon complete confidence, upon entire and unreserved candour on both sides? They hide nothing from each other, they keep no secrets in the background; their relation is based, if I may put it so, on mutual confession and absolution.

Gregers.

Well, what then?

Hialmar.

Well, is not that the whole thing? Did you not yourself say that this was precisely the difficulty that had to be overcome in order to found a true marriage?

Gregers.

But this is a totally different matter, Hialmar. You surely don’t compare either yourself or your wife with those two——? Oh, you understand me well enough.

Hialmar.

Say what you like, there is something in all this that hurts and offends my sense of justice. It really looks as if there were no just providence to rule the world.

Gina.

Oh no, Ekdal; for God’s sake don’t say such things.

Gregers.

H'm; don’t let us get upon those questions.

347Hialmar.

And yet, after all, I cannot but recognise the guiding finger of fate. He is going blind.

Gina.

Oh, you can’t be sure of that.

Hialmar.

There is no doubt about it. At all events there ought not to be; for in that very fact lies the righteous retribution. He has hoodwinked a confiding fellow creature in days gone by——

Gregers.

I fear he has hoodwinked many.

Hialmar.

And now comes inexorable, mysterious Fate, and demands Werle’s own eyes.

Gina.

Oh, how dare you say such dreadful things! You make me quite scared.

Hialmar.

It is profitable, now and then, to plunge deep into the night side of existence.

Hedvig, in her hat and cloak, comes in by the passage door. She is pleasurably excited, and out of breath.

Gina.

Are you back already?

348Hedvig.

Yes, I didn’t care to go any farther. It was a good thing, too; for I've just met some one at the door.

Hialmar.

It must have been that Mrs. Sörby.

Hedvig.

Yes.

Hialmar.

[Walks up and down.] I hope you have seen her for the last time.

[Silence. Hedvig, discouraged, looks first at one and then at the other, trying to divine their frame of mind.

Hedvig.

[Approaching, coaxingly.] Father.

Hialmar.

Well—what is it, Hedvig?

Hedvig.

Mrs. Sörby had something with her for me.

Hialmar.

[Stops.] For you?

Hedvig.

Yes. Something for to-morrow.

Gina.

Bertha has always given you some little thing on your birthday.

Hialmar.

What is it?

349Hedvig.

Oh, you mustn’t see it now. Mother is to give it to me to-morrow morning before I'm up.

Hialmar.

What is all this hocus-pocus that I am to be kept in the dark about!

Hedvig.

[Quickly.] Oh no, you may see it if you like. It’s a big letter.

[Takes the letter out of her cloak pocket.

Hialmar.

A letter too?

Hedvig.

Yes, it is only a letter. The rest will come afterwards, I suppose. But fancy—a letter! I've never had a letter before. And there’s “Miss” written upon it. [Reads.] “Miss Hedvig Ekdal.” Only fancy—that’s me!

Hialmar.

Let me see that letter.

Hedvig.

[Hands it to him.] There it is.

Hialmar.

That is Mr. Werle’s hand.

Gina.

Are you sure of that, Ekdal?

Hialmar.

Look for yourself.

350Gina.

Oh, what do I know about such-like things?

Hialmar.

Hedvig, may I open the letter—and read it?

Hedvig.

Yes, of course you may, if you want to.

Gina.

No, not to-night, Ekdal; it’s to be kept till to-morrow.

Hedvig.

[Softly.] Oh, can’t you let him read it! It’s sure to be something good; and then father will be glad, and everything will be nice again.

Hialmar.

I may open it then?

Hedvig.

Yes do, father. I'm so anxious to know what it is.

Hialmar.

Well and good. [Opens the letter, takes out a paper, reads it through, and appears bewildered.] What is this——!

Gina.

What does it say?

Hedvig.

Oh yes, father—tell us!

Hialmar.

Be quiet. [Reads it through again; he has turned 351pale, but says with self-control:] It is a deed of gift, Hedvig.

Hedvig.

Is it? What sort of gift am I to have?

Hialmar.

Read for yourself.

[Hedvig goes over and reads for a time by the lamp.

Hialmar.

[Half-aloud, clenching his hands.] The eyes! The eyes—and then that letter!

Hedvig.

[Leaves off reading.] Yes, but it seems to me that it’s grandfather that’s to have it.

Hialmar.

[Takes the letter from her.] Gina—can you understand this?

Gina.

I know nothing whatever about it; tell me what’s the matter.

Hialmar.

Mr. Werle writes to Hedvig that her old grandfather need not trouble himself any longer with the copying, but that he can henceforth draw on the office for a hundred crowns a month——

Gregers.

Aha!

Hedvig.

A hundred crowns, mother! I read that.

352Gina.

What a good thing for grandfather!

Hialmar.

——a hundred crowns a month so long as he needs it—that means, of course, so long as he lives.

Gina.

Well, so he’s provided for, poor dear.

Hialmar.

But there is more to come. You didn’t read that, Hedvig. Afterwards this gift is to pass on to you.

Hedvig.

To me! The whole of it?

Hialmar.

He says that the same amount is assured to you for the whole of your life. Do you hear that, Gina?

Gina.

Yes, I hear.

Hedvig.

Fancy—all that money for me! [Shakes him.] Father, father, aren’t you glad——?

Hialmar.

[Eluding her.] Glad! [Walks about.] Oh what vistas—what perspectives open up before me! It is Hedvig, Hedvig that he showers these benefactions upon!

Gina.

Yes, because it’s Hedvig’s birthday——

353Hedvig.

And you’ll get it all the same, father! You know quite well I shall give all the money to you and mother.

Hialmar.

To mother, yes! There we have it.

Gregers.

Hialmar, this is a trap he is setting for you.

Hialmar.

Do you think it’s another trap?

Gregers.

When he was here this morning he said: Hialmar Ekdal is not the man you imagine him to be.

Hialmar.

Not the man——!

Gregers.

That you shall see, he said.

Hialmar.

He meant you should see that I would let myself be bought off——!

Hedvig.

Oh mother, what does all this mean?

Gina.

Go and take off your things.

[Hedvig goes out by the kitchen door, half-crying.

354Gregers.

Yes, Hialmar—now is the time to show who was right, he or I.

Hialmar.

[Slowly tears the paper across, lays both pieces on the table, and says:] Here is my answer.

Gregers.

Just what I expected.

Hialmar.

[Goes over to Gina, who stands by the stove, and says in a low voice:] Now please make a clean breast of it. If the connection between you and him was quite over when you—came to care for me, as you call it—why did he place us in a position to marry?

Gina.

I suppose he thought as he could come and go in our house.

Hialmar.

Only that? Was not he afraid of a possible contingency?

Gina.

I don’t know what you mean.

Hialmar.

I want to know whether—your child has the right to live under my roof.

Gina.

[Draws herself up; her eyes flash.] You ask that!

355Hialmar.

You shall answer me this one question: Does Hedvig belong to me—or——? Well!

Gina.

[Looking at him with cold defiance.] I don’t know.

Hialmar.

[Quivering a little.] You don’t know!

Gina.

How should I know? A creature like me——

Hialmar.

[Quietly turning away from her.] Then I have nothing more to do in this house.

Gregers.

Take care, Hialmar! Think what you are doing!

Hialmar.

[Puts on his overcoat.] In this case, there is nothing for a man like me to think twice about.

Gregers.

Yes indeed, there are endless things to be considered. You three must be together if you are to attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrifice and forgiveness.

Hialmar.

I don’t want to attain it. Never, never! My hat! [Takes his hat.] My home has fallen in ruins about me. [Bursts into tears.] Gregers, I have no child!

356Hedvig.

[Who has opened the kitchen door.] What is that you’re saying? [Coming to him.] Father, father!

Gina.

There, you see!

Hialmar.

Don’t come near me, Hedvig! Keep far away. I cannot bear to see you. Oh! those eyes——! Good-bye. [Makes for the door.

Hedvig.

[Clinging close to him and screaming loudly.] No! no! Don’t leave me!

Gina.

[Cries out.] Look at the child, Ekdal! Look at the child!

Hialmar.

I will not! I cannot! I must get out—away from all this!

[He tears himself away from Hedvig, and goes out by the passage door.

Hedvig.

[With despairing eyes.] He is going away from us, mother! He is going away from us! He will never come back again!

Gina.

Don’t cry, Hedvig. Father’s sure to come back again.

Hedvig.

[Throws herself sobbing on the sofa.] No, no, he’ll never come home to us any more.

357Gregers.

Do you believe I meant all for the best, Mrs. Ekdal?

Gina.

Yes, I daresay you did; but God forgive you, all the same.

Hedvig.

[Lying on the sofa.] Oh, this will kill me! What have I done to him? Mother, you must fetch him home again!

Gina.

Yes yes yes; only be quiet, and I'll go out and look for him. [Puts on her outdoor things.] Perhaps he’s gone in to Relling’s. But you mustn’t lie there and cry. Promise me!

Hedvig.

[Weeping convulsively.] Yes, I'll stop, I'll stop; if only father comes back!

Gregers.

[To Gina, who is going.] After all, had you not better leave him to fight out his bitter fight to the end?

Gina.

Oh, he can do that afterwards. First of all, we must get the child quieted.

[Goes out by the passage door.

Hedvig.

[Sits up and dries her tears.] Now you must tell me what all this means. Why doesn’t father want me any more?

358Gregers.

You mustn’t ask that till you are a big girl—quite grown-up.

Hedvig.

[Sobs.] But I can’t go on being as miserable as this till I'm grown-up.—I think I know what it is.—Perhaps I'm not really father’s child.

Gregers.

[Uneasily.] How could that be?

Hedvig.

Mother might have found me. And perhaps father has just got to know it; I've read of such things.

Gregers.

Well, but if it were so——

Hedvig.

I think he might be just as fond of me for all that. Yes, fonder almost. We got the wild duck in a present, you know, and I love it so dearly all the same.

Gregers.

[Turning the conversation.] Ah, the wild duck, by-the-bye! Let us talk about the wild duck a little, Hedvig.

Hedvig.

The poor wild duck! He doesn’t want to see it any more either. Only think, he wanted to wring its neck!

Gregers.

Oh, he won’t do that.

359Hedvig.

No; but he said he would like to. And I think it was horrid of father to say it; for I pray for the wild duck every night, and ask that it may be preserved from death and all that is evil.

Gregers.

[Looking at her.] Do you say your prayers every night?

Hedvig.

Yes.

Gregers.

Who taught you to do that?

Hedvig.

I myself; one time when father was very ill, and had leeches on his neck, and said that death was staring him in the face.

Gregers.

Well?

Hedvig.

Then I prayed for him as I lay in bed; and since then I have always kept it up.

Gregers.

And now you pray for the wild duck too?

Hedvig.

I thought it was best to bring in the wild duck; for she was so weakly at first.

Gregers.

Do you pray in the morning, too?

360Hedvig.

No, of course not.

Gregers.

Why not in the morning as well?

Hedvig.

In the morning it’s light, you know, and there’s nothing in particular to be afraid of.

Gregers.

And your father was going to wring the neck of the wild duck that you love so dearly?

Hedvig.

No; he said he ought to wring its neck, but he would spare it for my sake; and that was kind of father.

Gregers.

[Coming a little nearer.] But suppose you were to sacrifice the wild duck of your own free will for his sake.

Hedvig.

[Rising.] The wild duck!

Gregers.

Suppose you were to make a free-will offering, for his sake, of the dearest treasure you have in the world!

Hedvig.

Do you think that would do any good?

Gregers.

Try it, Hedvig.

Hedvig.

[Softly, with flashing eyes.] Yes, I will try it.

361Gregers.

Have you really the courage for it, do you think?

Hedvig.

I'll ask grandfather to shoot the wild duck for me.

Gregers.

Yes, do. But not a word to your mother about it.

Hedvig.

Why not?

Gregers.

She doesn’t understand us.

Hedvig.

The wild duck! I'll try it to-morrow morning!morning!

[Gina comes in by the passage door.

Hedvig.

[Going towards her.] Did you find him, mother?

Gina.

No, but I heard as he had called and taken Relling with him.

Gregers.

Are you sure of that?

Gina.

Yes, the porter’s wife said so. Molvik went with them too, she said.

Gregers.

This evening, when his mind so sorely needs to wrestle in solitude——!

362Gina.

[Takes off her things.] Yes, men are strange creatures, so they are. The Lord only knows where Relling has dragged him to! I ran over to Madam Eriksen’s, but they weren’t there.

Hedvig.

[Struggling to keep back her tears.] Oh, if he should never come home any more!

Gregers.

He will come home again. I shall have news to give him to-morrow; and then you shall see how he comes home. You may rely upon that, Hedvig, and sleep in peace. Good-night.

[He goes out by the passage door.

Hedvig.

[Throws herself sobbing on Gina’s neck.] Mother, mother!

Gina.

[Pats her shoulder and sighs.] Ah yes; Relling was right, he was. That’s what comes of it when crazy creatures go about presenting the claims of the—what-you-may-call-it.

363

ACT FIFTH.

Hialmar Ekdal’s studio. Cold, grey, morning light. Wet snow lies upon the large panes of the sloping roof-window.

Gina comes from the kitchen with an apron and bib on, and carrying a dusting-brush and a duster; she goes towards the sitting-room door. At the same moment Hedvig comes hurriedly in from the passage.

Gina.

[Stops.] Well?

Hedvig.

Oh, mother, I almost think he’s down at Relling’s——

Gina.

There, you see!

Hedvig.

——because the porter’s wife says she could hear that Relling had two people with him when he came home last night.

Gina.

That’s just what I thought.

Hedvig.

But it’s no use his being there, if he won’t come up to us.

Gina.

I'll go down and speak to him at all events.

364

Old Ekdal, in dressing-gown and slippers, and with a lighted pipe, appears at the door of his room.

Ekdal.

Hialmar—— Isn’t Hialmar at home?

Gina.

No, he’s gone out.

Ekdal.

So early? And in such a tearing snowstorm? Well well; just as he pleases; I can take my morning walk alone.

[He slides the garret door aside; Hedvig helps him; he goes in; she closes it after him.

Hedvig.

[In an undertone.] Only think, mother, when poor grandfather hears that father is going to leave us.

Gina.

Oh, nonsense; grandfather mustn’t hear anything about it. It was a heaven’s mercy he wasn’t at home yesterday in all that hurly-burly.

Hedvig.

Yes, but——

[Gregers comes in by the passage door.

Gregers.

Well, have you any news of him?

Gina.

They say he’s down at Relling’s.

Gregers.

At Relling’s! Has he really been out with those creatures?

365Gina.

Yes, like enough.

Gregers.

When he ought to have been yearning for solitude, to collect and clear his thoughts——

Gina.

Yes, you may well say so.

Relling enters from the passage.

Hedvig.

[Going to him.] Is father in your room?

Gina.

[At the same time.] Is he there?

Relling.

Yes, to be sure he is.

Hedvig.

And you never let us know!

Relling.

Yes; I'm a brute. But in the first place I had to look after the other brute; I mean our dæmonic friend, of course; and then I fell so dead asleep that——

Gina.

What does Ekdal say to-day?

Relling.

He says nothing whatever.

Hedvig.

Doesn’t he speak?

Relling.

Not a blessed word.

366Gregers.

No no; I can understand that very well.

Gina.

But what’s he doing then?

Relling.

He’s lying on the sofa, snoring.

Gina.

Oh is he? Yes, Ekdal’s a rare one to snore.

Hedvig.

Asleep? Can he sleep?

Relling.

Well, it certainly looks like it.

Gregers.

No wonder, after the spiritual conflict that has rent him——

Gina.

And then he’s never been used to gadding about out of doors at night.

Hedvig.

Perhaps it’s a good thing that he’s getting some sleep, mother.

Gina.

Of course it is; and we must take care we don’t wake him up too early. Thank you, Relling. I must get the house cleaned up a bit now, and then—— Come and help me, Hedvig.

[Gina and Hedvig go into the sitting-room.

Gregers.

[Turning to Relling.] What is your explanation 367of the spiritual tumult that is now going on in Hialmar Ekdal?

Relling.

Devil a bit of a spiritual tumult have I noticed in him.

Gregers.

What! Not at such a crisis, when his whole life has been placed on a new foundation——? How can you think that such an individuality as Hialmar’s——?

Relling.

Oh, individuality—he! If he ever had any tendency to the abnormal developments you call individuality, I can assure you it was rooted out of him while he was still in his teens.

Gregers.

That would be strange indeed,—considering the loving care with which he was brought up.

Relling.

By those two high-flown, hysterical maiden aunts, you mean?

Gregers.

Let me tell you that they were women who never forgot the claim of the ideal—but of course you will only jeer at me again.

Relling.

No, I'm in no humour for that. I know all about those ladies; for he has ladled out no end of rhetoric on the subject of his “two soul-mothers.” But I don’t think he has much to thank them for. Ekdal’s misfortune is that in his 368own circle he has always been looked upon as a shining light——

Gregers.

Not without reason, surely. Look at the depth of his mind!

Relling.

I have never discovered it. That his father believed in it I don’t so much wonder; the old lieutenant has been an ass all his days.

Gregers.

He has had a child-like mind all his days; that is what you cannot understand.

Relling.

Well, so be it. But then, when our dear, sweet Hialmar went to college, he at once passed for the great light of the future amongst his comrades too! He was handsome, the rascal—red and white—a shop-girl’s dream of manly beauty; and with his superficially emotional temperament, and his sympathetic voice, and his talent for declaiming other people’s verses and other people’s thoughts——

Gregers.

[Indignantly.] Is it Hialmar Ekdal you are talking about in this strain?

Relling.

Yes, with your permission; I am simply giving you an inside view of the idol you are grovelling before.

Gregers.

I should hardly have thought I was quite stone blind.

369Relling.

Yes you are—or not far from it. You are a sick man, too, you see.

Gregers.

You are right there.

Relling.

Yes. Yours is a complicated case. First of all there is that plaguy integrity-fever; and then—what’s worse—you are always in a delirium of hero-worship; you must always have something to adore, outside yourself.

Gregers.

Yes, I must certainly seek it outside myself.

Relling.

But you make such shocking mistakes about every new phœnix you think you have discovered. Here again you have come to a cotter’s cabin with your claim of the ideal; and the people of the house are insolvent.

Gregers.

If you don’t think better than that of Hialmar Ekdal, what pleasure can you find in being everlastingly with him?

Relling.

Well, you see, I'm supposed to be a sort of a doctor—save the mark! I can’t but give a hand to the poor sick folk who live under the same roof with me.

Gregers.

Oh, indeed! Hialmar Ekdal is sick too, is he!

370Relling.

Most people are, worse luck.

Gregers.

And what remedy are you applying in Hialmar’s case?

Relling.

My usual one. I am cultivating the life-illusion^[19] in him.

Gregers.

Life—illusion? I didn’t catch what you said.

Relling.

Yes, I said illusion. For illusion, you know, is the stimulating principle.

Gregers.

May I ask with what illusion Hialmar is inoculated?

Relling.

No, thank you; I don’t betray professional secrets to quacksalvers. You would probably go and muddle his case still more than you have already. But my method is infallible. I have applied it to Molvik as well. I have made him “dæmonic.” That’s the blister I have to put on his neck.

Gregers.

Is he not really dæmonic then?

Relling.

What the devil do you mean by dæmonic! It’s only a piece of gibberish I've invented to keep up a spark of life in him. But for that, the poor 371harmless creature would have succumbed to self-contempt and despair many a long year ago. And then the old lieutenant! But he has hit upon his own cure, you see.

Gregers.

Lieutenant Ekdal? What of him?

Relling.

Just think of the old bear-hunter shutting himself up in that dark garret to shoot rabbits! I tell you there is not a happier sportsman in the world than that old man pottering about in there among all that rubbish. The four or five withered Christmas-trees he has saved up are the same to him as the whole great fresh Höidal forest; the cock and the hens are big game-birds in the fir-tops; and the rabbits that flop about the garret floor are the bears he has to battle with—the mighty hunter of the mountains!

Gregers.

Poor unfortunate old man! Yes; he has indeed had to narrow the ideals of his youth.

Relling.

While I think of it, Mr. Werle, junior—don’t use that foreign word: ideals. We have the excellent native word: lies.

Gregers.

Do you think the two things are related?

Relling.

Yes, just about as closely as typhus and putrid fever.

372Gregers.

Dr. Relling, I shall not give up the struggle until I have rescued Hialmar from your clutches!

Relling.

So much the worse for him. Rob the average man of his life-illusion, and you rob him of his happiness at the same stroke. [To Hedvig, who comes in from the sitting-room.] Well, little wild-duck-mother, I'm just going down to see whether papa is still lying meditating upon that wonderful invention of his.

[Goes out by the passage door.

Gregers.

[Approaches Hedvig.] I can see by your face that you have not yet done it.

Hedvig.

What? Oh, that about the wild duck! No.

Gregers.

I suppose your courage failed when the time came.

Hedvig.

No, that wasn’t it. But when I awoke this morning and remembered what we had been talking about, it seemed so strange.

Gregers.

Strange?

Hedvig.

Yes, I don’t know——. Yesterday evening, at the moment, I thought there was something so delightful about it; but since I have slept and thought of it again, it somehow doesn’t seem worth while.

373Gregers.

Ah, I thought you could not have grown up quite unharmed in this house.

Hedvig.

I don’t care about that, if only father would come up——

Gregers.

Oh, if only your eyes had been opened to that which gives life its value—if you possessed the true, joyous, fearless spirit of sacrifice, you would soon see how he would come up to you.—But I believe in you still, Hedvig.

[He goes out by the passage door.

[Hedvig wanders about the room for a time; she is on the point of going into the kitchen when a knock is heard at the garret door. Hedvig goes over and opens it a little; old Ekdal comes out; she pushes the door to again.

Ekdal.

H'm, it’s not much fun to take one’s morning walk alone.

Hedvig.

Wouldn’t you like to go shooting, grandfather?

Ekdal.

It’s not the weather for it to-day. It’s so dark there, you can scarcely see where you’re going.

Hedvig.

Do you never want to shoot anything besides the rabbits?

Ekdal.

Do you think the rabbits aren’t good enough?

374Hedvig.

Yes, but what about the wild duck?

Ekdal.

Ho-ho! are you afraid I shall shoot your wild duck? Never in the world. Never.

Hedvig.

No, I suppose you couldn’t; they say it’s very difficult to shoot wild ducks.

Ekdal.

Couldn’t! Should rather think I could.

Hedvig.

How would you set about it, grandfather?—I don’t mean with my wild duck, but with others?

Ekdal.

I should take care to shoot them in the breast, you know; that’s the surest place. And then you must shoot against the feathers, you see—not the way of the feathers.

Hedvig.

Do they die then, grandfather?

Ekdal.

Yes, they die right enough—when you shoot properly. Well, I must go and brush up a bit. H'm—understand—h’m. [Goes into his room.

[Hedvig waits a little, glances towards the sitting-room door, goes over to the book-case, stands on tip-toe, takes the double-barrelled pistol down from the shelf, and 375looks at it. Gina, with brush and duster, comes from the sitting-room. Hedvig hastily lays down the pistol, unobserved.

Gina.

Don’t stand raking amongst father’s things, Hedvig.

Hedvig.

[Goes away from the bookcase.] I was only going to tidy up a little.

Gina.

You’d better go into the kitchen, and see if the coffee’s keeping hot; I'll take his breakfast on a tray, when I go down to him.

[Hedvig goes out. Gina begins to sweep and clean up the studio. Presently the passage door is opened with hesitation, and Hialmar Ekdal looks in. He has on his overcoat, but not his hat; he is unwashed, and his hair is dishevelled and unkempt. His eyes are dull and heavy.

Gina.

[Standing with the brush in her hand, and looking at him.] Oh, there now, Ekdal—so you’ve come after all?

Hialmar.

[Comes in and answers in a toneless voice.] I come—only to depart again immediately.

Gina.

Yes, yes, I suppose so. But, Lord help us! what a sight you are!

Hialmar.

A sight?

376Gina.

And your nice winter coat too! Well, that’s done for.

Hedvig.

[At the kitchen door.] Mother, hadn’t I better——? [Sees Hialmar, gives a loud scream of joy, and runs to him.] Oh, father, father!

Hialmar.

[Turns away and makes a gesture of repulsion.] Away, away, away! [To Gina.] Keep her away from me, I say!

Gina.

[In a low tone.] Go into the sitting-room, Hedvig.

[Hedvig does so without a word.

Hialmar.

[Fussily pulls out the table-drawer.] I must have my books with me. Where are my books?

Gina.

Which books?

Hialmar.

My scientific books, of course; the technical magazines I require for my invention.

Gina.

[Searches in the bookcase.] Is it these here paper-covered ones?

Hialmar.

Yes, of course.

Gina.

[Lays a heap of magazines on the table.] Shan’t I get Hedvig to cut them for you?

377Hialmar.

I don’t require to have them cut for me.

[Short silence.

Gina.

Then you’re still set on leaving us, Ekdal?

Hialmar.

[Rummaging amongst the books.] Yes, that is a matter of course, I should think.

Gina.

Well, well.

Hialmar.

[Vehemently.] How can I live here, to be stabbed to the heart every hour of the day?

Gina.

God forgive you for thinking such vile things of me.

Hialmar.

Prove——!

Gina.

I think it’s you as has got to prove.

Hialmar.

After a past like yours? There are certain claims—I may almost call them claims of the ideal——

Gina.

But what about grandfather? What’s to become of him, poor dear?

Hialmar.

I know my duty; my helpless father will come with me. I am going out into the town to make 378arrangements——. H'm—[hesitatingly] has any one found my hat on the stairs?

Gina.

No. Have you lost your hat?

Hialmar.

Of course I had it on when I came in last night; there’s no doubt about that; but I couldn’t find it this morning.

Gina.

Lord help us! where have you been to with those two ne’er-do-weels?

Hialmar.

Oh, don’t bother me about trifles. Do you suppose I am in the mood to remember details?

Gina.

If only you haven’t caught cold, Ekdal.Ekdal.

[Goes out into the kitchen.

Hialmar.

[Talks to himself in a low tone of irritation, whilst he empties the table-drawer.] You’re a scoundrel, Relling!—You’re a low fellow!—Ah, you shameless tempter!—I wish I could get some one to stick a knife into you!

[He lays some old letters on one side, finds the torn document of yesterday, takes it up and looks at the pieces; puts it down hurriedly as Gina enters.

Gina.

[Sets a tray with coffee, etc., on the table.] Here’s 379a drop of something hot, if you’d fancy it. And there’s some bread and butter and a snack of salt meat.

Hialmar.

[Glancing at the tray.] Salt meat? Never under this roof! It’s true I have not had a mouthful of solid food for nearly twenty-four hours; but no matter.—My memoranda! The commencement of my autobiography! What has become of my diary, and all my important papers? [Opens the sitting-room door but draws back.] She is there too!

Gina.

Good Lord! the child must be somewhere!

Hialmar.

Come out.

[He makes room, Hedvig comes, scared, into the studio.

Hialmar.

[With his hand upon the door-handle, says to Gina:] In these, the last moments I spend in my former home, I wish to be spared from interlopers——

[Goes into the room.

Hedvig.

[With a bound towards her mother, asks softly, trembling.] Does that mean me?

Gina.

Stay out in the kitchen, Hedvig; or, no—you’d best go into your own room. [Speaks to Hialmar as she goes in to him.] Wait a bit, Ekdal; don’t rummage so in the drawers; I know where everything is.

380Hedvig.

[Stands a moment immovable, in terror and perplexity, biting her lips to keep back the tears; then she clenches her hands convulsively, and says softly:] The wild duck.

[She steals over and takes the pistol from the shelf, opens the garret door a little way, creeps in, and draws the door to after her.

[Hialmar and Gina can be heard disputing in the sitting-room.

Hialmar.

[Comes in with some manuscript books and old loose papers, which he lays upon the table.] That portmanteau is of no use! There are a thousand and one things I must drag with me.

Gina.

[Following with the portmanteau.] Why not leave all the rest for the present, and only take a shirt and a pair of woollen drawers with you?

Hialmar.

Whew!—all these exhausting preparations——!

[Pulls off his overcoat and throws it upon the sofa.

Gina.

And there’s the coffee getting cold.

Hialmar.

H'm.

[Drinks a mouthful without thinking of it, and then another.

Gina.

[Dusting the backs of the chairs.] A nice job 381you’ll have to find such another big garret for the rabbits.

Hialmar.

What! Am I to drag all those rabbits with me too?

Gina.

You don’t suppose grandfather can get on without his rabbits.

Hialmar.

He must just get used to doing without them. Have not I to sacrifice very much greater things than rabbits!

Gina.

[Dusting the bookcase.] Shall I put the flute in the portmanteau for you?

Hialmar.

No. No flute for me. But give me the pistol!

Gina.

Do you want to take the pigstol with you?

Hialmar.

Yes. My loaded pistol.

Gina.

[Searching for it.] It’s gone. He must have taken it in with him.

Hialmar.

Is he in the garret?

Gina.

Yes, of course he’s in the garret.

382Hialmar.

H'm—poor lonely old man.

[He takes a piece of bread and butter, eats it, and finishes his cup of coffee.

Gina.

If we hadn’t have let that room, you could have moved in there.

Hialmar.

And continued to live under the same roof with——! Never,—never!

Gina.

But couldn’t you put up with the sitting-room for a day or two? You could have it all to yourself.

Hialmar.

Never within these walls!

Gina.

Well then, down with Relling and Molvik.

Hialmar.

Don’t mention those wretches' names to me! The very thought of them almost takes away my appetite.—Oh no, I must go out into the storm and the snow-drift,—go from house to house and seek shelter for my father and myself.

Gina.

But you’ve got no hat, Ekdal! You’ve been and lost your hat, you know.

Hialmar.

Oh those two brutes, those slaves of all the 383vices! A hat must be procured. [Takes another piece of bread and butter.] Some arrangement must be made. For I have no mind to throw away my life, either.

[Looks for something on the tray.

Gina.

What are you looking for?

Hialmar.

Butter.

Gina.

I'll get some at once. [Goes out into the kitchen.

Hialmar.

[Calls after her.] Oh it doesn’t matter; dry bread is good enough for me.

Gina.

[Brings a dish of butter.] Look here; this is fresh churned.

[She pours out another cup of coffee for him; he seats himself on the sofa, spreads more butter on the already buttered bread, and eats and drinks awhile in silence.

Hialmar.

Could I, without being subject to intrusion—intrusion of any sort—could I live in the sitting-room there for a day or two?

Gina.

Yes, to be sure you could, if you only would.

Hialmar.

For I see no possibility of getting all father’s things out in such a hurry.

384Gina.

And besides, you’ve surely got to tell him first as you don’t mean to live with us others no more.

Hialmar.

[Pushes away his coffee cup.] Yes, there is that too; I shall have to lay bare the whole tangled story to him——. I must turn matters over; I must have breathing-time; I cannot take all these burdens on my shoulders in a single day.

Gina.

No, especially in such horrible weather as it is outside.

Hialmar.

[Touching Werle’s letter.] I see that paper is still lying about here.

Gina.

Yes, I haven’t touched it.

Hialmar.

So far as I am concerned it is mere waste paper——

Gina.

Well, I have certainly no notion of making any use of it.

Hialmar.

——but we had better not let it get lost all the same;—in all the upset when I move, it might easily——

Gina.

I'll take good care of it, Ekdal.

Hialmar.

The donation is in the first instance made to 385father, and it rests with him to accept or decline it.

Gina.

[Sighs.] Yes, poor old father——

Hialmar.

To make quite safe—— Where shall I find some gum?

Gina.

[Goes to the bookcase.] Here’s the gum-pot.

Hialmar.

And a brush?

Gina.

The brush is here too. [Brings him the things.

Hialmar.

[Takes a pair of scissors.] Just a strip of paper at the back——[Clips and gums.] Far be it from me to lay hands upon what is not my own—and least of all upon what belongs to a destitute old man—and to—the other as well.—There now. Let it lie there for a time; and when it is dry, take it away. I wish never to see that document again. Never!

Gregers Werle enters from the passage.

Gregers.

[Somewhat surprised.] What,—are you sitting here, Hialmar?

Hialmar.

[Rises hurriedly.] I had sunk down from fatigue.

Gregers.

You have been having breakfast, I see.

386Hialmar.

The body sometimes makes its claims felt too.

Gregers.

What have you decided to do?

Hialmar.

For a man like me, there is only one course possible. I am just putting my most important things together. But it takes time, you know.

Gina.

[With a touch of impatience.] Am I to get the room ready for you, or am I to pack your portmanteau?

Hialmar.

[After a glance of annoyance at Gregers.] Pack—and get the room ready!

Gina.

[Takes the portmanteau.] Very well; then I'll put in the shirt and the other things.

[Goes into the sitting-room and draws the door to after her.

Gregers.

[After a short silence.] I never dreamed that this would be the end of it. Do you really feel it a necessity to leave house and home?

Hialmar.

[Wanders about restlessly.] What would you have me do?—I am not fitted to bear unhappiness, Gregers. I must feel secure and at peace in my surroundings.

387Gregers.

But can you not feel that here? Just try it. I should have thought you had firm ground to build upon now—if only you start afresh. And remember, you have your invention to live for.

Hialmar.

Oh don’t talk about my invention. It’s perhaps still in the dim distance.

Gregers.

Indeed!

Hialmar.

Why, great heavens, what would you have me invent? Other people have invented almost everything already. It becomes more and more difficult every day——

Gregers.

And you have devoted so much labour to it.

Hialmar.

It was that blackguard Relling that urged me to it.

Gregers.

Relling?

Hialmar.

Yes, it was he that first made me realise my aptitude for making some notable discovery in photography.

Gregers.

Aha—it was Relling!

Hialmar.

Oh! I have been so truly happy over it! Not so 388much for the sake of the invention itself, as because Hedvig believed in it—believed in it with a child’s whole eagerness of faith.—At least, I have been fool enough to go and imagine that she believed in it.

Gregers.

Can you really think that Hedvig has been false towards you?

Hialmar.

I can think anything now. It is Hedvig that stands in my way. She will blot out the sunlight from my whole life.

Gregers.

Hedvig! Is it Hedvig you are talking of? How should she blot out your sunlight?

Hialmar.

[Without answering.] How unutterably I have loved that child! How unutterably happy I have felt every time I came home to my humble room, and she flew to meet me, with her sweet little blinking eyes. Oh, confiding fool that I have been! I loved her unutterably;—and I yielded myself up to the dream, the delusion, that she loved me unutterably in return.

Gregers.

Do you call that a delusion?

Hialmar.

How should I know? I can get nothing out of Gina; and besides, she is totally blind to the ideal side of these complications. But to you I feel impelled to open my mind, Gregers. I cannot 389shake off this frightful doubt—perhaps Hedvig has never really and honestly loved me.

Gregers.

What would you say if she were to give you a proof of her love? [Listens.] What’s that? I thought I heard the wild duck——?

Hialmar.

It’s the wild duck quacking. Father’s in the garret.

Gregers.

Is he? [His face lights up with joy.] I say you may yet have proof that your poor misunderstood Hedvig loves you!

Hialmar.

Oh, what proof can she give me? I dare not believe in any assurances from that quarter.

Gregers.

Hedvig does not know what deceit means.

Hialmar.

Oh Gregers, that is just what I cannot be sure of. Who knows what Gina and that Mrs. Sörby may many a time have sat here whispering and tattling about? And Hedvig usually has her ears open, I can tell you. Perhaps the deed of gift was not such a surprise to her, after all. In fact, I'm not sure but that I noticed something of the sort.

Gregers.

What spirit is this that has taken possession of you?

390Hialmar.

I have had my eyes opened. Just you notice;—you’ll see, the deed of gift is only a beginning. Mrs. Sörby has always been a good deal taken up with Hedvig; and now she has the power to do whatever she likes for the child. They can take her from me whenever they please.

Gregers.

Hedvig will never, never leave you.

Hialmar.

Don’t be so sure of that. If only they beckon to her and throw out a golden bait——! And oh! I have loved her so unspeakably! I would have counted it my highest happiness to take her tenderly by the hand and lead her, as one leads a timid child through a great dark empty room!—I am cruelly certain now that the poor photographer in his humble attic has never really and truly been anything to her. She has only cunningly contrived to keep on a good footing with him until the time came.

Gregers.

You don’t believe that yourself, Hialmar.

Hialmar.

That is just the terrible part of it—I don’t know what to believe,—I never can know it. But can you really doubt that it must be as I say? Ho-ho, you have far too much faith in the claim of the ideal, my good Gregers! If those others came, with the glamour of wealth about them, and called to the child:—“Leave him: come to us: here life awaits you——!”

391Gregers.

[Quickly.] Well, what then?

Hialmar.

If I then asked her: Hedvig, are you willing to renounce that life for me? [Laughs scornfully.] No thank you! You would soon hear what answer I should get.

[A pistol shot is heard from within the garret.

Gregers.

[Loudly and joyfully.] Hialmar!

Hialmar.

There now; he must needs go shooting too.

Gina.

[Comes in.] Oh Ekdal, I can hear grandfather blazing away in the garret by hisself.

Hialmar.

I'll look in——

Gregers.

[Eagerly, with emotion.] Wait a moment! Do you know what that was?

Hialmar.

Yes, of course I know.

Gregers.

No you don’t know. But I do. That was the proof!

Hialmar.

What proof?

392Gregers.

It was a child’s free-will offering. She has got your father to shoot the wild duck.

Hialmar.

To shoot the wild duck!

Gina.

Oh, think of that——!

Hialmar.

What was that for?

Gregers.

She wanted to sacrifice to you her most cherished possession; for then she thought you would surely come to love her again.

Hialmar.

[Tenderly, with emotion.] Oh, poor child!

Gina.

What things she does think of!

Gregers.

She only wanted your love again, Hialmar. She could not live without it.

Gina.

[Struggling with her tears.] There, you can see for yourself, Ekdal.

Hialmar.

Gina, where is she?

Gina.

[Sniffs.] Poor dear, she’s sitting out in the kitchen, I dare say.

393Hialmar.

[Goes over, tears open the kitchen door, and says:] Hedvig, come, come in to me! [Looks round.] No, she’s not here.

Gina.

Then she must be in her own little room.

Hialmar.

[Without.] No, she’s not here either. [Comes in.] She must have gone out.

Gina.

Yes, you wouldn’t have her anywheres in the house.

Hialmar.

Oh, if she would only come home quickly, so that I can tell her—— Everything will come right now, Gregers; now I believe we can begin life afresh.

Gregers.

[Quietly.] I knew it; I knew the child would make amends.

Old Ekdal appears at the door of his room; he is in full uniform, and is busy buckling on his sword.

Hialmar.

[Astonished.] Father! Are you there?

Gina.

Have you been firing in your room?

Ekdal.

[Resentfully approaching.] So you go shooting alone, do you, Hialmar?

394Hialmar.

[Excited and confused.] Then it wasn’t you that fired that shot in the garret?

Ekdal.

Me that fired? H'm.

Gregers.

[Calls out to Hialmar.] She has shot the wild duck herself!

Hialmar.

What can it mean? [Hastens to the garret door, tears it aside, looks in and calls loudly:] Hedvig!

Gina.

[Runs to the door.] Good God, what’s that!

Hialmar.

[Goes in.] She’s lying on the floor!

Gregers.

Hedvig! lying on the floor!

[Goes in to Hialmar.

Gina.

[At the same time.] Hedvig! [Inside the garret.] No, no, no!

Ekdal.

Ho-ho! does she go shooting too, now?

[Hialmar, Gina, and Gregers carry Hedvig into the studio; in her dangling right hand she holds the pistol fast clasped in her fingers.

Hialmar.

[Distracted.] The pistol has gone off. She has wounded herself. Call for help! Help!

395Gina.

[Runs into the passage and calls down.] Relling! Relling! Doctor Relling; come up as quick as you can!

[Hialmar and Gregers lay Hedvig down on the sofa.

Ekdal.

[Quietly.] The woods avenge themselves.

Hialmar.

[On his knees beside Hedvig.] She’ll soon come to now. She’s coming to——; yes, yes, yes.

Gina.

[Who has come in again.] Where has she hurt herself? I can’t see anything——

[Relling comes hurriedly, and immediately after him Molvik; the latter without his waistcoat and necktie, and with his coat open.

Relling.

What’s the matter here?

Gina.

They say Hedvig has shot herself.

Hialmar.

Come and help us!

Relling.

Shot herself!

[He pushes the table aside and begins to examine her.

Hialmar.

[Kneeling and looking anxiously up at him.] It 396can’t be dangerous? Speak, Relling! She is scarcely bleeding at all. It can’t be dangerous?

Relling.

How did it happen?

Hialmar.

Oh, we don’t know——!

Gina.

She wanted to shoot the wild duck.

Relling.

The wild duck?

Hialmar.

The pistol must have gone off.

Relling.

H'm. Indeed.

Ekdal.

The woods avenge themselves. But I'm not afraid, all the same.

[Goes into the garret and closes the door after him.

Hialmar.

Well, Relling,—why don’t you say something?

Relling.

The ball has entered the breast.

Hialmar.

Yes, but she’s coming to!

Relling.

Surely you can see that Hedvig is dead.

397Gina.

[Bursts into tears.] Oh my child, my child!child!

Gregers.

[Huskily.] In the depths of the sea——

Hialmar.

[Jumps up.] No, no, she must live! Oh, for God’s sake, Relling—only a moment—only just till I can tell her how unspeakably I loved her all the time!

Relling.

The bullet has gone through her heart. Internal hemorrhage. Death must have been instantaneous.

Hialmar.

And I! I hunted her from me like an animal! And she crept terrified into the garret and died for love of me! [Sobbing.] I can never atone to her! I can never tell her——! [Clenches his hands and cries, upwards.] O thou above——! If thou be indeed! Why hast thou done this thing to me?

Gina.

Hush, hush, you mustn’t go on that awful way. We had no right to keep her, I suppose.

Molvik.

The child is not dead, but sleepeth.

Relling.

Bosh!

Hialmar.

[Becomes calm, goes over to the sofa, folds his arms, and looks at Hedvig.] There she lies so stiff and still.

398Relling.

[Tries to loosen the pistol.] She’s holding it so tight, so tight.

Gina.

No, no, Relling, don’t break her fingers; let the pigstol be.

Hialmar.

She shall take it with her.

Gina.

Yes, let her. But the child mustn’t lie here for a show. She shall go to her own room, so she shall. Help me, Ekdal.

[Hialmar and Gina take Hedvig between them.

Hialmar.

[As they are carrying her.] Oh Gina, Gina, can you survive this!

Gina.

We must help each other to bear it. For now at least she belongs to both of us.

Molvik.

[Stretches out his arms and mumbles.] Blessed be the Lord; to earth thou shalt return; to earth thou shalt return——

Relling.

[Whispers.] Hold your tongue, you fool; you’re drunk.

[Hialmar and Gina carry the body out through the kitchen door. Relling shuts it after them. Molvik slinks out into the passage.

399Relling.

[Goes over to Gregers and says:] No one shall ever convince me that the pistol went off by accident.

Gregers.

[Who has stood terrified, with convulsive twitchings.] Who can say how the dreadful thing happened?

Relling.

The powder has burnt the body of her dress. She must have pressed the pistol right against her breast and fired.

Gregers.

Hedvig has not died in vain. Did you not see how sorrow set free what is noble in him?

Relling.

Most people are ennobled by the actual presence of death. But how long do you suppose this nobility will last in him?

Gregers.

Why should it not endure and increase throughout his life?

Relling.

Before a year is over, little Hedvig will be nothing to him but a pretty theme for declamation.

Gregers.

How dare you say that of Hialmar Ekdal?

Relling.

We will talk of this again, when the grass has first withered on her grave. Then you’ll hear 400him spouting about “the child too early torn from her father’s heart;” then you’ll see him steep himself in a syrup of sentiment and self-admiration and self-pity. Just you wait!

Gregers.

If you are right and I am wrong, then life is not worth living.

Relling.

Oh, life would be quite tolerable, after all, if only we could be rid of the confounded duns that keep on pestering us, in our poverty, with the claim of the ideal.

Gregers.

[Looking straight before him.] In that case, I am glad that my destiny is what it is.

Relling.

May I inquire,—what is your destiny?

Gregers.

[Going.] To be the thirteenth at table.

Relling.

The devil it is.

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 VIII. Each of these was corrected in printing.

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.

xii.11 was four [old years/years old] before Transposed.

xxii.22 [‘]But you really ought to do so. Restored.

xxiii.3 the name of his only sister[,] Restored.

21.29 one ought at least to vote[.] Added.

41.10 Dr. Stockman[n]. Added.

62.19 And even[ ]it were so? sic: if?

64.20 or a whole pamph[l]et about it. Inserted.

69.29 Father! Dismissal[!] Added.

76.2 “People’s Messenger[.]” Added.

76.3 an entrance-door[—]to the right Restored.

79.13 Asla[sk/ks]en! just come here a moment. Transposed.

81.28 but that’s too outrageous[!] Probable.

106.18 just as I thought[.] Added.

106.24 You know very well what I want[.] Added.

108.9 Dr. Hovst[e/a]d. Replaced.

109.33 sunshine and spring air, Thomas[.] Added.

113.25 won’t be so easy a[t/s] you think Replaced.

114.24 It[’]s because in this town Inserted.

124.14 We protest[!] Added.

144.20 Dr. Stockman[n] has unmasked Added.

144.24 we ought to formul[u/a]te this opinion Replaced.

149.7 Good[.] Come Katrina, come boys! Added.

169.23 Dr. Stockman[n]. Added.

169.25 Mort[o/e]n Kiil. Replaced.

174.25 Yo[ /u]r attitude, you say? Restored.

211.21 something good, mind[.] Added.

217.7 But that unhappy Ekdal family[.] Added.

217.30 I am not telling you the truth[?] Added.

218.9 Ekdal taught p[r/h]otography? Replaced.

224.25 opposed to it[!/?] Replaced.

241.27 they are t[w/o]o big for curls. Replaced.

259.10 you keep poultry, Lieutenant Ekdal[.] Added.

259.24 like to roost high, you see[.] Added.

270.2 You’re very strange[.] Added.

276.8 a matter of life and death[.] Added.

296.10 to make this great invention[.] Added.

303.3 you’re not to say anything, father[.] Added.

303.29 I brought him home last night[./?] Replaced.

307.22 don’t sit there cricketizing me[.] Added.

309.29 I carry it in my breast[.] Added.

321.14 to have gone so far, Ekdal[;] you’re not Added.

361.15 I'll try it to-morrow morning[!] Added.

378.16 you haven’t caught cold, Ekdal[.] Added.

397.2 Oh my child, my child[!] Added.