Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (240 page)

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 looks 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?

GINA.
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?

HIALMAR.
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 arrangements — 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 ——
[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 a 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.

HEDVIG
[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 you’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.

HIALMAR.
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 vices! A hat must be procured.
[Takes another piece of bread and butter.]
Some arrangements 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.

GINA.
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 father, 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 it 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.