Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (284 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen
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Mrs.
Elvsted. I heard them talking of him at my boarding-house — just as I came in. Oh, the most incredible rumours are afloat about him today.

 

Tesman.
Yes, fancy, so I heard too! And I can bear witness that he went straight home to bed last night. Fancy that!

 

Hedda.
Well, what did they say at the boarding-house?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, I couldn’t make out anything clearly. Either they knew nothing definite, or else — . They stopped talking when the saw me; and I did not dare to ask.

 

Tesman.
[Moving about uneasily.]
We must hope — we must hope that you misunderstood them, Mrs. Elvsted.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. No, no; I am sure it was of him they were talking. And I heard something about the hospital or —

 

Tesman.
The hospital?

 

Hedda.
No — surely that cannot be!

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, I was in such mortal terror! I went to his lodgings and asked for him there.

 

Hedda.
You could make up your mind to that, Thea!

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. What else could I do? I really could bear the suspense no longer.

 

Tesman.
But you didn’t find him either — eh?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. No. And the people knew nothing about him. He hadn’t been home since yesterday afternoon, they said.

 

Tesman.
Yesterday! Fancy, how could they say that?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, I am sure something terrible must have happened to him.

 

Tesman.
Hedda dear — how would it be if I were to go and make inquiries — ?

 

Hedda.
No, no — don’t you mix yourself up in this affair.

 

Judge Brack
, with his hat in his hand, enters by the hall door, which
Berta
opens, and closes behind him. He looks grave and bows in silence.

 

Tesman.
Oh, is that you, my dear Judge? Eh?

 

Brack.
Yes. It was imperative I should see you this evening.

 

Tesman.
I can see you have heard the news about Aunt Rina?

 

Brack.
Yes, that among other things.

 

Tesman.
Isn’t it sad — eh?

 

Brack.
Well, my dear Tesman, that depends on how you look at it.

 

Tesman.
[Looks doubtfully at him.]
Has anything else happened?

 

Brack.
Yes.

 

Hedda.
[In suspense.]
Anything sad, Judge Brack?

 

Brack.
That, too, depends on how you look at it, Mrs. Tesman.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Unable to restrain her anxiety.]
Oh! it is something about Eilert Lovborg!

 

Brack.
[With a glance at her.]
What makes you think that, Madam? Perhaps you have already heard something — ?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[In confusion.]
No, nothing at all, but —

 

Tesman.
Oh, for heaven’s sake, tell us!

 

Brack.
[Shrugging his shoulders.]
Well, I regret to say Eilert Lovborg has been taken to the hospital. He is lying at the point of death.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Shrieks.]
Oh God! oh God — !

 

Tesman.
To the hospital! And at the point of death!

 

Hedda.
[Involuntarily.]
So soon then —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Wailing.]
And we parted in anger, Hedda!

 

Hedda.
[Whispers.]
Thea — Thea — be careful!

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Not heeding her.]
I must go to him! I must see him alive!

 

Brack.
It is useless, Madam. No one will be admitted.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, at least tell me what has happened to him? What is it?

 

Tesman.
You don’t mean to say that he has himself —— Eh?

 

Hedda.
Yes, I am sure he has.

 

Brack.
[Keeping his eyes fixed upon her.]
Unfortunately you have guessed quite correctly, Mrs. Tesman.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, how horrible!

 

Tesman.
Himself, then! Fancy that!

 

Hedda.
Shot himself!

 

Brack.
Rightly guessed again, Mrs. Tesman.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[With an effort at self-control.]
When did it happen, Mr. Brack?

 

Brack.
This afternoon — between three and four.

 

Tesman.
But, good Lord, where did he do it? Eh?

 

Brack.
[With some hesitation.]
Where? Well — I suppose at his lodgings.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. No, that cannot be; for I was there between six and seven.

 

Brack.
Well then, somewhere else. I don’t know exactly. I only know that he was found — . He had shot himself — in the breast.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, how terrible! That he should die like that!

 

Hedda.
[To
Brack
.]
Was it in the breast?

 

Brack.
Yes — as I told you.

 

Hedda.
Not in the temple?

 

Brack.
In the breast, Mrs. Tesman.

 

Hedda.
Well, well — the breast is a good place, too.

 

Brack.
How do you mean, Mrs. Tesman?

 

Hedda.
[Evasively.]
Oh, nothing — nothing.

 

Tesman.
And the wound is dangerous, you say — eh?

 

Brack.
Absolutely mortal. The end has probably come by this time.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes, yes, I feel it. The end! The end! Oh, Hedda — !

 

Tesman.
But tell me, how have you learnt all this?

 

Brack.
[Curtly.]
Through one of the police. A man I had some business with.

 

Hedda.
[In a clear voice.]
At last a deed worth doing!

 

Tesman.
[Terrified.]
Good heavens, Hedda! what are you saying?

 

Hedda.
I say there is beauty in this.

 

Brack.
H’m, Mrs. Tesman —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, Hedda, how can you talk of beauty in such an act!

 

Hedda.
Eilert Lovborg has himself made up his account with life. He has had the courage to do — the one right thing.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. No, you must never think that was how it happened! It must have been in delirium that he did it.

 

Tesman.
In despair!

 

Hedda.
That he did not. I am certain of that.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes, yes! In delirium! Just as when he tore up our manuscript.

 

Brack.
[Starting.]
The manuscript? Has he torn that up?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes, last night.

 

Tesman.
[Whispers softly.]
Oh, Hedda, we shall never get over this.

 

Brack.
H’m, very extraordinary.

 

Tesman.
[Moving about the room.]
To think of Eilert going out of the world in this way! And not leaving behind him the book that would have immortalised his name —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, if only it could be put together again!

 

Tesman.
Yes, if it only could! I don’t know what I would not give —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Perhaps it can, Mr. Tesman.

 

Tesman.
What do you mean?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Searches in the pocket of her dress.]
Look here. I have kept all the loose notes he used to dictate from.

 

Hedda.
[A step forward.]
Ah — !

 

Tesman.
You have kept them, Mrs. Elvsted! Eh?

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes, I have them here. I put them in my pocket when I left home. Here they still are —

 

Tesman.
Oh, do let me see them!

 

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Hands him a bundle of papers.]
But they are in such disorder — all mixed up.

 

Tesman.
Fancy, if we could make something out of them, after all! Perhaps if we two put our heads together —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh yes, at least let us try —

 

Tesman.
We will manage it! We must! I will dedicate my life to this task.

 

Hedda.
You, George? Your life?

 

Tesman.
Yes, or rather all the time I can spare. My own collections must wait in the meantime. Hedda — you understand, eh? I owe this to Eilert’s memory.

 

Hedda.
Perhaps.

 

Tesman.
And so, my dear Mrs. Elvsted, we will give our whole minds to it. There is no use in brooding over what can’t be undone — eh? We must try to control our grief as much as possible, and —

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can.

 

Tesman.
Well then, come here. I can’t rest until we have looked through the notes. Where shall we sit? Here? No, in there, in the back room. Excuse me, my dear Judge. Come with me, Mrs. Elvsted.

 

Mrs.
Elvsted. Oh, if only it were possible!

 

Tesman
and
Mrs. Elvsted
go into the back room. She takes off her hat and cloak. They both sit at the table under the hanging lamp, and are soon deep in an eager examination of the papers.
Hedda
crosses to the stove and sits in the arm-chair. Presently
Brack
goes up to her.

 

Hedda.
[In a low voice.]
Oh, what a sense of freedom it gives one, this act of Eilert Lovborg’s.

 

Brack.
Freedom, Mrs. Hedda? Well, of course, it is a release for him —

 

Hedda.
I mean for me. It gives me a sense of freedom to know that a deed of deliberate courage is still possible in this world, — a deed of spontaneous beauty.

 

Brack.
[Smiling.]
H’m — my dear Mrs. Hedda —

 

Hedda.
Oh, I know what you are going to say. For you are a kind of specialist too, like — you know!

 

Brack.
[Looking hard at her.]
Eilert Lovborg was more to you than perhaps you are willing to admit to yourself. Am I wrong?

 

Hedda.
I don’t answer such questions. I only know that Eilert Lovborg has had the courage to live his life after his own fashion. And then — the last great act, with its beauty! Ah! that he should have the will and the strength to turn away from the banquet of life — so early.

 

Brack.
I am sorry, Mrs. Hedda, — but I fear I must dispel an amiable illusion.

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