Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (233 page)

EKDAL.
It’s Hakon Werle we have to thank for her, all the same, Gina.
[To GREGERS.]
He was shooting from a boat, you see, and he brought her down. But your father’s sight is not very good now. H’m; she was only wounded.

GREGERS.
Ah! She got a couple of slugs in her body, I suppose.

HIALMAR.
Yes, two or three.

HEDVIG.
She was hit under the wing, so that she couldn’t fly.

GREGERS.
And I suppose she dived to the bottom, eh?

EKDAL
[sleepily, in a thick voice.]
Of course. Always do that, wild ducks do. They shoot to the bottom as deep as they can get, sir — and bite themselves fast in the tangle and seaweed — and all the devil’s own mess that grows down there. And they never come up again.

GREGERS.
But your wild duck came up again, Lieutenant Ekdal.

EKDAL.
He had such an amazingly clever dog, your father had. And that dog — he dived in after the duck and fetched her up again.

GREGERS
[who has turned to HIALMAR.]
And then she was sent to you here?

HIALMAR.
Not at once; at first your father took her home. But she wouldn’t thrive there; so Pettersen was told to put an end to her —

EKDAL
[half asleep.]
H’m — yes — Pettersen — that ass —

HIALMAR
[speaking more softly.]
That was how we got her, you see; for father knows Pettersen a little; and when he heard about the wild duck he got him to hand her over to us.

GREGERS.
And now she thrives as well as possible in the garret there?

HIALMAR.
Yes, wonderfully well. She has got fat. You see, she has lived in there so long now that she has forgotten her natural wild life; and it all depends on that.

GREGERS.
You are right there, Hialmar. Be sure you never let her get a glimpse of the sky and the sea — . But I mustn’t stay any longer; I think your father is asleep.

HIALMAR.
Oh, as for that —

GREGERS.
But, by-the-bye — you said you had a room to let — a spare room?

HIALMAR.
Yes; what then? Do you know of anybody — ?

GREGERS.
Can I have that room?

HIALMAR.
You?

GINA.
Oh no, Mr. Werle, you —

GREGERS.
May I have the room? If so, I’ll take possession first thing to-morrow morning.

HIALMAR.
Yes, with the greatest pleasure —

GINA.
But, Mr. Werle, I’m sure it’s not at all the sort of room for you.

HIALMAR.
Why, Gina! how can you say that?

GINA.
Why, because the room’s neither large enough nor light enough, and —

GREGERS.
That really doesn’t matter, Mrs. Ekdal.

HIALMAR.
I call it quite a nice room, and not at all badly furnished either.

GINA.
But remember the pair of them underneath.

GREGERS.
What pair?

GINA.
Well, there’s one as has been a tutor —

HIALMAR.
That’s Molvik — Mr. Molvik, B.A.

GINA.
And then there’s a doctor, by the name of Relling.

GREGERS.
Relling? I know him a little; he practised for a time up in Hoidal.

GINA.
They’re a regular rackety pair, they are. As often as not, they’re out on the loose in the evenings; and then they come home at all hours, and they’re not always just —

GREGERS.
One soon gets used to that sort of thing. I daresay I shall be like the wild duck —

GINA.
H’m; I think you ought to sleep upon it first, anyway.

GREGERS.
You seem very unwilling to have me in the house, Mrs. Ekdal.

GINA.
Oh, no! What makes you think that?

HIALMAR.
Well, you really behave strangely about it, Gina.
[To GREGERS.]
Then I suppose you intend to remain in the town for the present?

GREGERS
[putting on his overcoat.]
Yes, now I intend to remain here.

HIALMAR.
And yet not at your father’s? What do you propose to do, then?

GREGERS.
Ah, if I only knew that, Hialmar, I shouldn’t be so badly off! But when one has the misfortune to be called Gregers — ! “Gregers” — and then “Werle” after it; did you ever hear anything so hideous?

HIALMAR.
Oh, I don’t think so at all.

GREGERS.
Ugh! Bah! I feel I should like to spit upon the fellow that answers to such a name. But when a man is once for all doomed to be Gregers — Werle in this world, as I am —

HIALMAR
[laughs.]
Ha, ha! If you weren’t Gregers Werle, what would you like to be?

GREGERS.
If I should choose, I should like best to be a clever dog.

GINA.
A dog!

HEDVIG
[involuntarily.]
Oh, no!

GREGERS.
Yes, an amazingly clever dog; one that goes to the bottom after wild ducks when they dive and bite themselves fast in tangle and sea-weed, down among the ooze.

HIALMAR.
Upon my word now, Gregers — I don’t in the least know what you’re driving at.

GREGERS.
Oh, well, you might not be much the wiser if you did. It’s understood, then, that I move in early to-morrow morning.
[To GINA.]
I won’t give you any trouble; I do everything for myself.
[To HIALMAR.]
We can talk about the rest to-morrow. — Good-night, Mrs. Ekdal.
[Nods to HEDVIG.]
Good-night.

GINA.
Good-night, Mr. Werle.

HEDVIG.
Good-night.

HIALMAR
[who has lighted a candle.]
Wait a moment, I must show you a light; the stairs are sure to be dark.
[GREGERS and HIALMAR go out by the passage door.]

GINA
[looking straight before her, with her sewing in her lap.]
Wasn’t that queer-like talk about wanting to be a dog?

HEDVIG.
Do you know, mother — I believe he meant something quite different by that.

GINA.
Why, what should he mean?

HEDVIG.
Oh, I don’t know; but it seemed to me he meant something different from what he said — all the time.

GINA.
Do you think so? Yes, it was sort of queer.

HIALMAR
[comes back.]
The lamp was still burning.
[Puts out the candle and sets it down.]
Ah, now one can get a mouthful of food at last.
[Begins to eat the bread and butter.]
Well, you see, Gina — if only you keep your eyes open —

GINA.
How, keep your eyes open — ?

HIALMAR.
Why, haven’t we at last had the luck to get the room let? And just think — to a person like Gregers — a good old friend.

GINA.
Well, I don’t know what to say about it.

HEDVIG.
Oh, mother, you’ll see; it’ll be such fun!

HIALMAR.
You’re very strange. You were so bent upon getting the room let before; and now you don’t like it.

GINA.
Yes I do, Ekdal; if it had only been to some one else — But what do you suppose Mr. Werle will say?

HIALMAR.
Old Werle? It doesn’t concern him.

GINA.
But surely you can see that there’s something amiss between them again, or the young man wouldn’t be leaving home. You know very well those two can’t get on with each other.

HIALMAR.
Very likely not, but —

GINA.
And now Mr. Werle may fancy it’s you that has egged him on —

HIALMAR.
Let him fancy so, then! Mr. Werle has done a great deal for me; far be it from me to deny it. But that doesn’t make me everlastingly dependent upon him.

GINA.
But, my dear Ekdal, maybe grandfather’ll suffer for it. He may lose the little bit of work he gets from Graberg.

HIALMAR.
I could almost say: so much the better! Is it not humiliating for a man like me to see his grey-haired father treated as a pariah? But now I believe the fulness of time is at hand.
[Takes a fresh piece of bread and butter.]
As sure as I have a mission in life, I mean to fulfil it now!

HEDVIG.
Oh, yes, father, do!

GINA.
Hush! Don’t wake him!

HIALMAR
[more softly.]
I will fulfil it, I say. The day shall come when — And that is why I say it’s a good thing we have let the room; for that makes me more independent, The man who has a mission in life must be independent.
[By the arm-chair, with emotion.]
Poor old white-haired father! Rely on your Hialmar. He has broad shoulders — strong shoulders, at any rate. You shall yet wake up some fine day and —
[To GINA.]
Do you not believe it?

GINA
[rising.]
Yes, of course I do; but in the meantime suppose we see about getting him to bed.

HIALMAR.
Yes, come.
[They take hold of the old man carefully.]

ACT THIRD
.

[HIALMAR EKDAL’S studio. It is morning: the daylight shines through the large window in the slanting roof; the curtain is drawn back.]

[HIALMAR is sitting at the table, busy retouching a photograph; several others lie before him. Presently GINA, wearing her hat and cloak, enters by the passage door; she has a covered basket on her arm.]

HIALMAR.
Back already, Gina?

GINA.
Oh, yes, one can’t let the grass grow under one’s feet.
[Sets her basket on a chair, and takes off her things.]

HIALMAR.
Did you look in at Gregers’ room?

GINA.
Yes, that I did. It’s a rare sight, I can tell you; he’s made a pretty mess to start off with.

HIALMAR.
How so?

GINA.
He was determined to do everything for himself, he said; so he sets to work to light the stove, and what must he do but screw down the damper till the whole room is full of smoke. Ugh! There was a smell fit to —

HIALMAR.
Well, really!

GINA.
But that’s not the worst of it; for then he thinks he’ll put out the fire, and goes and empties his water-jug into the stove, and so makes the whole floor one filthy puddle.

HIALMAR.
How annoying!

GINA.
I’ve got the porter’s wife to clear up after him, pig that he is! But the room won’t be fit to live in till the afternoon.

HIALMAR.
What’s he doing with himself in the meantime?

GINA.
He said he was going out for a little while.

HIALMAR.
I looked in upon him, too, for a moment — after you had gone.

GINA.
So I heard. You’ve asked him to lunch.

HIALMAR.
Just to a little bit of early lunch, you know. It’s his first day — we can hardly do less. You’ve got something in the house, I suppose?

GINA.
I shall have to find something or other.

HIALMAR.
And don’t cut it too fine, for I fancy Relling and Molvik are coming up, too. I just happened to meet Relling on the stairs, you see; so I had to —

GINA.
Oh, are we to have those two as well?

HIALMAR.
Good Lord — a couple more or less can’t make any difference.

OLD EKDAL
[opens his door and looks in]
.
I say, Hialmar —
[Sees GINA.]
Oh!

GINA.
Do you want anything, grandfather?

EKDAL.
Oh, no, it doesn’t matter. H’m!
[Retires again.]

GINA
[takes up the basket.]
Be sure you see that he doesn’t go out.

HIALMAR.
All right, all right. And, Gina, a little herring-salad wouldn’t be a bad idea; Relling and Molvik were out on the loose again last night.

GINA.
If only they don’t come before I’m ready for them —

HIALMAR.
No, of course they won’t; take your own time.

GINA.
Very well; and meanwhile you can be working a bit.

HIALMAR.
Well, I am working! I am working as hard as I can!

GINA.
Then you’ll have that job off your hands, you see.
[She goes out to the kitchen with her basket.

HIALMAR sits for a time pencilling away at the photograph, in an indolent and listless manner.]

EKDAL
[peeps in, looks round the studio, and says softly:]
Are you busy?

HIALMAR.
Yes, I’m toiling at these wretched pictures —

EKDAL.
Well, well, never mind, — since you’re so busy — h’m!
[He goes out again; the door stands open.]

HIALMAR
[continues for some time in silence then he lays down his brush and goes over to the door.]
Are you busy, father?

EKDAL
[in a grumbling tone, within.]
If you’re busy, I’m busy, too. H’m!

HIALMAR.
Oh, very well, then.
[Goes to his work again.]

EKDAL
[presently, coming to the door again.]
H’m; I say, Hialmar, I’m not so very busy, you know.

HIALMAR.
I thought you were writing.

EKDAL.
Oh, devil take it! can’t Graberg wait a day or two? After all, it’s not a matter of life and death.

HIALMAR.
No; and you’re not his slave either.

EKDAL.
And about that other business in there —

HIALMAR.
Just what I was thinking of. Do you want to go in? Shall I open the door for you?

EKDAL.
Well, it wouldn’t be a bad notion.

HIALMAR
[rises.]
Then we’d have that off our hands.

EKDAL.
Yes, exactly. It’s got to be ready first thing to-morrow. It is to-morrow, isn’t it? H’m?

HIALMAR.
Yes, of course it’s to-morrow.
[HIALMAR and EKDAL push aside each his half of the sliding door. The morning sun is shining in through the skylights; some doves are flying about; others sit cooing, upon the perches; the hens are heard clucking now and then, further back in the garret.]

HIALMAR.
There; now you can get to work, father.

EKDAL
[goes in.]
Aren’t you coming, too?

HIALMAR.
Well, really, do you know — ; I almost think —
[Sees GINA at the kitchen door.]
I? No; I haven’t time; I must work. — But now for our new contrivance —
[He pulls a cord, a curtain slips down inside, the lower part consisting of a piece of old sailcloth, the upper part of a stretched fishing net. The floor of the garret is thus no longer visible.]

HIALMAR
[goes to the table.]
So! Now, perhaps I can sit in peace for a little while.

GINA.
Is he rampaging in there again?

HIALMAR.
Would you rather have had him slip down to Madam Eriksen’s?
[Seats himself.]
Do you want anything? You know you said —

GINA.
I only wanted to ask if you think we can lay the table for lunch here?

HIALMAR.
Yes; we have no early appointment, I suppose?

GINA.
No, I expect no one to-day except those two sweethearts that are to be taken together.

HIALMAR.
Why the deuce couldn’t they be taken together another day!

GINA.
Don’t you know, I told them to come in the afternoon, when you are having your nap.

HIALMAR.
Oh, that’s capital. Very well, let us have lunch here then.

GINA.
All right; but there’s no hurry about laying the cloth; you can have the table for a good while yet.

HIALMAR.
Do you think I am not sticking at my work? I’m at it as hard as I can!

GINA.
Then you’ll be free later on, you know.
[Goes out into the kitchen again. Short pause.]

EKDAL
[in the garret doorway, behind the net.]
Hialmar!

HIALMAR.
Well?

EKDAL.
Afraid we shall have to move the water-trough, after all.

HIALMAR.
What else have I been saying all along?

EKDAL.
H’m — h’m — h’m.
[Goes away from the door again.

HIALMAR goes on working a little; glances towards the garret and half rises. HEDVIG comes in from the kitchen.]

HIALMAR
[sits down again hurriedly.]
What do you want?

HEDVIG.
I only wanted to come in beside you, father.

HIALMAR
[after a pause]
. What makes you go prying around like that? Perhaps you are told off to watch me?

HEDVIG.
No, no.

HIALMAR.
What is your mother doing out there?

HEDVIG.
Oh, mother’s in the middle of making the herring-salad.
[Goes to the table]
. Isn’t there any little thing I could help you with, father?

HIALMAR.
Oh, no. It is right that I should bear the whole burden — so long as my strength holds out. Set your mind at rest, Hedvig; if only your father keeps his health —

HEDVIG.
Oh, no, father! You mustn’t talk in that horrid way.
[She wanders about a little, stops by the doorway and looks into the garret.]

HIALMAR.
Tell me, what is he doing?

HEDVIG.
I think he’s making a new path to the water-trough.

HIALMAR.
He can never manage that by himself! And here am I doomed to sit — !

HEDVIG
[goes to him.]
Let me take the brush, father; I can do it, quite well.

HIALMAR.
Oh, nonsense; you will only hurt your eyes.

HEDVIG.
Not a bit. Give me the brush.

HIALMAR
[rising.]
Well, it won’t take more than a minute or two.

HEDVIG.
Pooh, what harm can it do then?
[Takes the brush.]
There!
[Seats herself.]
I can begin upon this one.

HIALMAR.
But mind you don’t hurt your eyes! Do you hear? I won’t be answerable; you do it on your own responsibility — understand that.

HEDVIG
[retouching.]
Yes, yes, I understand.

HIALMAR.
You are quite clever at it, Hedvig. Only a minute or two, you know.
[He slips through by the edge of the curtain into the garret. HEDVIG sits at her work. HIALMAR and EKDAL are heard disputing inside.]

HIALMAR
[appears behind the net.]
I say, Hedvig — give me those pincers that are lying on the shelf. And the chisel.
[Turns away inside.]
Now you shall see, father. Just let me show you first what I mean!

[HEDVIG has fetched the required tools from the shelf, and hands them to him through the net.]

HIALMAR.
Ah, thanks. I didn’t come a moment too soon.
[Goes back from the curtain again; they are heard carpentering and talking inside.

HEDVIG stands looking in at them. A moment later there is a knock at the passage door; she does not notice it.]

GREGERS WERLE
[bareheaded, in indoor dress, enters and stops near the door.]
H’m — !

HEDVIG
[turns and goes towards him.]
Good morning. Please come in.

GREGERS.
Thank you.
[Looking towards the garret.]
You seem to have workpeople in the house.

HEDVIG.
No, it is only father and grandfather. I’ll tell them you are here.

GREGERS.
No, no, don’t do that; I would rather wait a little.
[Seats himself on the sofa.]

HEDVIG.
It looks so untidy here —
[Begins to clear away the photographs.]

GREGERS.
Oh, don’t take them away. Are those prints that have to be finished off?

HEDVIG.
Yes, they are a few I was helping father with.

GREGERS.
Please don’t let me disturb you.

HEDVIG.
Oh, no.
[She gathers the things to her and sits down to work; GREGERS looks at her, meanwhile, in silence.]

GREGERS.
Did the wild duck sleep well last night?

HEDVIG.
Yes, I think so, thanks.

GREGERS
[turning towards the garret.]
It looks quite different by day from what it did last night in the moonlight.

HEDVIG.
Yes, it changes ever so much. It looks different in the morning and in the afternoon; and it’s different on rainy days from what it is in fine weather.

GREGERS.
Have you noticed that?

HEDVIG.
Yes, how could I help it?

GREGERS.
Are you, too, fond of being in there with the wild duck?