Part 11

Oh, she had nothing to suffer or submit to; not more than most people, at all events. But there’s no getting on with morbid, overstrained creatures—that I have learnt to my cost.—And you could go on nursing such a suspicion—burrowing into all sorts of old rumours and slanders against your own father! I must say, Gregers, I really think that at your age you might find something more useful to do.

GREGERS.

Yes, it is high time.

WERLE.

Then perhaps your mind would be easier than it seems to be now. What can be your object in remaining up at the works, year out and year in, drudging away like a common clerk, and not drawing a farthing more than the ordinary monthly wage? It is downright folly.

GREGERS.

Ah, if I were only sure of _that_.

WERLE.

I understand you well enough. You want to be independent; you won’t be beholden to me for anything. Well, now there happens to be an opportunity for you to become independent, your own master in everything.

GREGERS.

Indeed? In what way——?

WERLE.

When I wrote you insisting on your coming to town at once—h’m——

GREGERS.

Yes, what is it you really want of me? I have been waiting all day to know.

WERLE.

I want to propose that you should enter the firm, as partner.

GREGERS.

I! Join your firm? As partner?

WERLE.

Yes. It would not involve our being constantly together. You could take over the business here in town, and I should move up to the works.

GREGERS.

_You_ would?

WERLE.

The fact is, I am not so fit for work as I once was. I am obliged to spare my eyes, Gregers; they have begun to trouble me.

GREGERS.

They have always been weak.

WERLE.

Not as they are now. And besides, circumstances might possibly make it desirable for me to live up there—for a time, at any rate.

GREGERS.

That is certainly quite a new idea to me.

WERLE.

Listen, Gregers: there are many things that stand between us; but we are father and son after all. We ought surely to be able to come to some sort of understanding with each other.

GREGERS.

Outwardly, you mean, of course?

WERLE.

Well, even that would be something. Think it over, Gregers. Don’t you think it ought to be possible? Eh?

GREGERS.

[_Looking at him coldly._] There is something behind all this.

WERLE.

How so?

GREGERS.

You want to make use of me in some way.

WERLE.

In such a close relationship as ours, the one can always be useful to the other.

GREGERS.

Yes, so people say.

WERLE.

I want very much to have you at home with me for a time. I am a lonely man Gregers; I have always felt lonely, all my life through; but most of all now that I am getting up in years. I feel the need of some one about me——

GREGERS.

You have Mrs. Sörby.

WERLE.

Yes, I have her; and she has become, I may say, almost indispensable to me. She is lively and even-tempered; she brightens up the house; and that is a very great thing for me.

GREGERS.

Well then, you have everything just as you wish it.

WERLE.

Yes, but I am afraid it can’t last. A woman so situated may easily find herself in a false position, in the eyes of the world. For that matter it does a man no good, either.

GREGERS.

Oh, when a man gives such dinners as you give, he can risk a great deal.

WERLE.

Yes, but how about the woman, Gregers? I fear she won’t accept the situation much longer; and even if she did—even if, out of attachment to me, she were to take her chance of gossip and scandal and all that——? Do you think, Gregers—you with your strong sense of justice——

GREGERS.

[_Interrupts him._] Tell me in one word: are you thinking of marrying her?

WERLE.

Suppose I were thinking of it? What then?

GREGERS.

That’s what I say: what then?

WERLE.

Should you be inflexibly opposed to it?

GREGERS.

Not at all. Not by any means.

WERLE.

I was not sure whether your devotion to your mother’s memory——

GREGERS.

I am not overstrained.

WERLE.

Well, whatever you may or may not be, at all events you have lifted a great weight from my mind. I am extremely pleased that I can reckon on your concurrence in this matter.

GREGERS.

[_Looking intently at him._] Now I see the use you want to put me to.

WERLE.

Use to put you to? What an expression!

GREGERS.

Oh, don’t let us be nice in our choice of words—not when we are alone together, at any rate. [_With a short laugh._] Well well! So this is what made it absolutely essential that I should come to town in person. For the sake of Mrs. Sörby, we are to get up a pretence at family life in the house—a tableau of filial affection! That will be something new indeed.

WERLE.

How dare you speak in that tone!

GREGERS.

Was there ever any family life here? Never since I can remember. But now, forsooth, your plans demand something of the sort. No doubt it will have an excellent effect when it is reported that the son has hastened home, on the wings of filial piety, to the grey-haired father’s wedding-feast. What will then remain of all the rumours as to the wrongs the poor dead mother had to submit to? Not a vestige. Her son annihilates them at one stroke.

WERLE.

Gregers—I believe there is no one in the world you detest as you do me.

GREGERS.

[_Softly._] I have seen you at too close quarters.

WERLE.

You have seen me with your mother’s eyes. [_Lowers his voice a little._] But you should remember that her eyes were—clouded now and then.

GREGERS.

[_Quivering._] I see what you are hinting at. But who was to blame for mother’s unfortunate weakness? Why you, and all those——! The last of them was this woman that you palmed off upon Hialmar Ekdal, when you were——Ugh!

WERLE.

[_Shrugs his shoulders._] Word for word as if it were your mother speaking!

GREGERS.

[_Without heeding._] And there he is now, with his great, confiding, childlike mind, compassed about with all this treachery—living under the same roof with such a creature, and never dreaming that what he calls his home is built upon a lie! [_Comes a step nearer._] When I look back upon your past, I seem to see a battle-field with shattered lives on every hand.

WERLE.

I begin to think the chasm that divides us is too wide.

GREGERS.

[_Bowing, with self-command._] So I have observed; and therefore I take my hat and go.

WERLE.

You are going! Out of the house?

GREGERS.

Yes. For at last I see my mission in life.

WERLE.

What mission?

GREGERS.

You would only laugh if I told you.

WERLE.

A lonely man doesn’t laugh so easily, Gregers.

GREGERS.

[_Pointing towards the background._] Look, father,—the Chamberlains are playing blind-man’s-buff with Mrs. Sörby.—Good-night and good-bye.

[_He goes out by the back to the right. Sounds of laughter and merriment from the Company, who are now visible in the outer room._

WERLE.

[_Muttering contemptuously after_ GREGERS.] Ha——! Poor wretch—and he says he is not over-strained!

ACT SECOND.

HIALMAR EKDAL’S _studio, a good-sized room, evidently in the top storey of the building. On the right, a sloping roof of large panes of glass, half-covered by a blue curtain. In the right-hand corner, at the back, the entrance door; farther forward, on the same side, a door leading to the sitting-room. Two doors on the opposite side, and between them an iron stove. At the back, a wide double sliding-door. The studio is plainly but comfortably fitted up and furnished. Between the doors on the right, standing out a little from the wall, a sofa with a table and some chairs; on the table a lighted lamp with a shade; beside the stove an old arm-chair. Photographic instruments and apparatus of different kinds lying about the room. Against the back wall, to the left of the double door, stands a bookcase containing a few books, boxes, and bottles of chemicals, instruments, tools, and other objects. Photographs and small articles, such as camel’s-hair pencils, paper, and so forth, lie on the table._

GINA EKDAL _sits on a chair by the table, sewing._ HEDVIG _is sitting on the sofa, with her hands shading her eyes and her thumbs in her ears, reading a book._

GINA.

[_Glances once or twice at_ HEDVIG, _as if with secret anxiety; then says_:] Hedvig!

HEDVIG.

[_Does not hear._]

GINA.

[_Repeats more loudly._] Hedvig!

HEDVIG.

[_Takes away her hands and looks up._] Yes, mother?

GINA.

Hedvig dear, you mustn’t sit reading any longer now.

HEDVIG.

Oh mother, mayn’t I read a little more? Just a little bit?

GINA.

No no, you must put away your book now. Father doesn’t like it; he never reads hisself in the evening.

HEDVIG.

[_Shuts the book._] No, father doesn’t care much about reading.

GINA.

[_Puts aside her sewing and takes up a lead pencil and a little account-book from the table._] Can you remember how much we paid for the butter to-day?

HEDVIG.

It was one crown sixty-five.

GINA.

That’s right. [_Puts it down._] It’s terrible what a lot of butter we get through in this house. Then there was the smoked sausage, and the cheese—let me see—[_Writes_]—and the ham—[_Adds up._] Yes, that makes just——

HEDVIG.

And then the beer.

GINA.

Yes, to be sure. [_Writes._] How it do mount up! But we can’t manage with no less.

HEDVIG.

And then you and I didn’t need anything hot for dinner, as father was out.

GINA.

No; that was so much to the good. And then I took eight crowns fifty for the photographs.

HEDVIG.

Really! So much as that?

GINA.

Exactly eight crowns fifty.

[_Silence._ GINA _takes up her sewing again,_ HEDVIG _takes paper and pencil and begins to draw, shading her eyes with her left hand._

HEDVIG.

Isn’t it jolly to think that father is at Mr. Werle’s big dinner-party?

GINA.

You know he’s not really Mr. Werle’s guest. It was the son invited him. [_After a pause._] We have nothing to do with that Mr. Werle.

HEDVIG.

I'm longing for father to come home. He promised to ask Mrs. Sörby for something nice for me.

GINA.

Yes, there’s plenty of good things going in _that_ house, I can tell you.

HEDVIG.

[_Goes on drawing._] And I believe I'm a little hungry too.

[OLD EKDAL, _with the paper parcel under his arm and another parcel in his coat pocket, comes in by the entrance door._

GINA.

How late you are to-day, grandfather!

EKDAL.

They had locked the office door. Had to wait in Gråberg’s room. And then they let me through—h’m.

HEDVIG.

Did you get some more copying to do, grandfather?

EKDAL.

This whole packet. Just look.

GINA.

That’s capital.

HEDVIG.

And you have another parcel in your pocket.

EKDAL.

Eh? Oh never mind, that’s nothing. [_Puts his stick away in a corner._] This work will keep me going a long time, Gina. [_Opens one of the sliding-doors in the back wall a little._] Hush! [_Peeps into the room for a moment, then pushes the door carefully to again._] Hee-hee! They’re fast asleep, all the lot of them. And she’s gone into the basket herself. Hee-hee!

HEDVIG.

Are you sure she isn’t cold in that basket, grandfather?

EKDAL.

Not a bit of it! Cold? With all that straw? [_Goes towards the farther door on the left._] There are matches in here, I suppose.

GINA.

The matches is on the drawers.

[EKDAL _goes into his room._

HEDVIG.

It’s nice that grandfather has got all that copying.

GINA.

Yes, poor old father; it means a bit of pocket-money for him.

HEDVIG.

And he won’t be able to sit the whole forenoon down at that horrid Madam Eriksen’s.

GINA.

No more he won’t.

[_Short silence._

HEDVIG.

Do you suppose they are still at the dinner-table?

GINA.

Goodness knows; as like as not.

HEDVIG.

Think of all the delicious things father is having to eat! I'm certain he’ll be in splendid spirits when he comes. Don’t you think so, mother?

GINA.

Yes; and if only we could tell him that we’d got the room let——

HEDVIG.

But we don’t need that this evening.

GINA.

Oh, we’d be none the worse of it, I can tell you. It’s no use to us as it is.

HEDVIG.

I mean we don’t need it this evening, for father will be in a good humour at any rate. It is best to keep the letting of the room for another time.

GINA.

[_Looks across at her._] You like having some good news to tell father when he comes home in the evening?

HEDVIG.

Yes; for then things are pleasanter somehow.

GINA.

[_Thinking to herself._] Yes, yes, there’s something in that.

[OLD EKDAL _comes in again and is going out by the foremost door to the left._

GINA.

[_Half turning in her chair._] Do you want something out of the kitchen, grandfather?

EKDAL.

Yes, yes, I do. Don’t you trouble. _Goes out._

GINA.

He’s not poking away at the fire, is he? [_Waits a moment._] Hedvig, go and see what he’s about.

[EKDAL _comes in again with a small jug of steaming hot water._

HEDVIG.

Have you been getting some hot water, grandfather?

EKDAL.

Yes, hot water. Want it for something. Want to write, and the ink has got as thick as porridge.—h’m.

GINA.

But you’d best have your supper, first, grandfather. It’s laid in there.

EKDAL.

Can’t be bothered with supper, Gina. Very busy, I tell you. No one’s to come to my room. No one—h’m.

[_He goes into his room;_ GINA _and_ HEDVIG _look at each other._

GINA.

[_Softly._] Can you imagine where he’s got money from?

HEDVIG.

From Gråberg, perhaps.

GINA.

Not a bit of it. Gråberg always sends the money to me.

HEDVIG.

Then he must have got a bottle on credit somewhere.

GINA.

Poor grandfather, who’d give him credit?

HIALMAR EKDAL, _in an overcoat and grey felt hat, comes in from the right._

GINA.

[_Throws down her sewing and rises._] Why, Ekdal. Is that you already?

HEDVIG.

[_At the same time jumping up._] Fancy your coming so soon, father!

HIALMAR.

[_Taking off his hat._] Yes, most of the people were coming away.

HEDVIG.

So early?

HIALMAR.

Yes, it was a dinner-party, you know.

[_Is taking off his overcoat._

GINA.

Let me help you.

HEDVIG.

Me too.

[_They draw off his coat;_ GINA _hangs it up on the back wall._

HEDVIG.

Were there many people there, father?

HIALMAR.

Oh no, not many. We were about twelve or fourteen at table.

GINA.

And you had some talk with them all?

HIALMAR.

Oh yes, a little; but Gregers took me up most of the time.

GINA.

Is Gregers as ugly as ever?

HIALMAR.

Well, he’s not very much to look at. Hasn’t the old man come home?

HEDVIG.

Yes, grandfather is in his room, writing.

HIALMAR.

Did he say anything?

GINA.

No, what should he say?

HIALMAR.

Didn’t he say anything about——? I heard something about his having been with Gråberg. I'll go in and see him for a moment.

GINA.

No, no, better not.

HIALMAR.

Why not? Did he say he didn’t want me to go in?

GINA.

I don’t think he wants to see _nobody_ this evening——

HEDVIG.

[_Making signs._] H'm—h’m!

GINA.

[_Not noticing._]——he has been in to fetch hot water——

HIALMAR.

Aha! Then he’s——

GINA.

Yes, I suppose so.

HIALMAR.

Oh God! my poor old white-haired father!—Well, well; there let him sit and get all the enjoyment he can.

[OLD EKDAL, _in an indoor coat and with a lighted pipe, comes from his room._

EKDAL.

Got home? Thought it was you I heard talking.

HIALMAR.

Yes, I have just come.

EKDAL.

You didn’t see me, did you?

HIALMAR.

No; but they told me you had passed through—so I thought I would follow you.

EKDAL.

H'm, good of you, Hialmar.—Who were they, all those fellows?

HIALMAR.

Oh, all sorts of people. There was Chamberlain Flor, and Chamberlain Balle, and Chamberlain Kaspersen, and Chamberlain—this, that, and the other—I don’t know who all——

EKDAL.

[_Nodding._] Hear that, Gina! Chamberlains every one of them!

GINA.

Yes, I hear as they’re terrible genteel in that house nowadays.

HEDVIG.

Did the Chamberlains sing, father? Or did they read aloud?

HIALMAR.

No, they only talked nonsense. They wanted _me_ to recite something for them; but I knew better than that.

EKDAL.

You weren’t to be persuaded, eh?

GINA.

Oh, you might have done it.

HIALMAR.

No; one mustn’t be at everybody’s beck and call. [_Walks about the room._] That’s not _my_ way, at any rate.

EKDAL.

No no; Hialmar’s not to be had for the asking, he isn’t.

HIALMAR.

I don’t see why _I_ should bother myself to entertain people on the rare occasions when I go into society. Let the others exert themselves. These fellows go from one great dinner-table to the next and gorge and guzzle day out and day in. It’s for them to bestir themselves and do something in return for all the good feeding they get.

GINA.

But you didn’t say that?

HIALMAR.

[_Humming._] Ho-ho-ho——; faith, I gave them a bit of my mind.

EKDAL.

Not the Chamberlains?

HIALMAR.

Oh, why not? [_Lightly._] After that, we had a little discussion about Tokay.

EKDAL.

Tokay! There’s a fine wine for you!

HIALMAR.

[_Comes to a standstill._] It _may_ be a fine wine. But of course you know the vintages differ; it all depends on how much sunshine the grapes have had.

GINA.

Why, you know everything, Ekdal.

EKDAL.

And did they dispute that?

HIALMAR.

They tried to; but they were requested to observe that it was just the same with Chamberlains—that with them, too, different batches were of different qualities.

GINA.

What things you do think of!

EKDAL.

Hee-hee! So they got that in their pipes too?

HIALMAR.

Right in their teeth.

EKDAL.

Do you hear that, Gina? He said it right in the very teeth of all the Chamberlains.

GINA.

Fancy——! Right in their teeth!

HIALMAR.

Yes, but I don’t want it talked about. One doesn’t speak of such things. The whole affair passed off quite amicably of course. They were nice, genial fellows; I didn’t want to wound them—not I!

EKDAL.

Right in their teeth, though——!

HEDVIG.

[_Caressingly._] How nice it is to see you in a dress-coat! It suits you so well, father.

HIALMAR.

Yes, don’t you think so? And this one really sits to perfection. It fits almost as if it had been made for me;—a little tight in the arm-holes perhaps;—help me, Hedvig. [_Takes off the coat._] I think I'll put on my jacket. Where is my jacket, Gina?

GINA.

Here it is. [_Brings the jacket and helps him._]

HIALMAR.

That’s it! Don’t forget to send the coat back to Molvik first thing to-morrow morning.

GINA.

[_Laying it away._] I'll be sure and see to it.

HIALMAR.

[_Stretching himself._] After all, there’s a more homely feeling about this. A free-and-easy indoor costume suits my whole personality better. Don’t you think so, Hedvig?

HEDVIG.

Yes, father.

HIALMAR.

When I loosen my necktie into a pair of flowing ends—like this—eh?

HEDVIG.

Yes, that goes so well with your moustache and the sweep of your curls.

HIALMAR.

I should not call them curls exactly; I should rather say locks.

HEDVIG.

Yes, they are too big for curls.

HIALMAR.

Locks describes them better.

HEDVIG.

[_After a pause, twitching his jacket._] Father.

HIALMAR.

Well, what is it?

HEDVIG.

Oh, you know very well.

HIALMAR.

No, really I don’t——

HEDVIG.

[_Half laughing, half whimpering._] Oh yes, father, now don’t tease me any longer!

HIALMAR.

Why, what do you mean?

HEDVIG.

[_Shaking him._] Oh what nonsense; come, where are they, father? All the good things you promised me, you know?

HIALMAR.

Oh—if I haven’t forgotten all about them!

HEDVIG.

Now you’re only teasing me, father! Oh, it’s too bad of you! Where have you put them?

HIALMAR.

No, I positively forgot to get anything. But wait a little! I have something else for you, Hedvig.

[_Goes and searches in the pockets of the coat._

HEDVIG.

[_Skipping and clapping her hands._] Oh mother, mother!

GINA.

There, you see; if you only give him time——

HIALMAR.

[_With a paper._] Look, here it is.

HEDVIG.

That? Why, that’s only a paper.

HIALMAR.

That is the bill of fare, my dear; the whole bill of fare. Here you see: “Menu ”—that means bill of fare.

HEDVIG.

Haven’t you anything else?

HIALMAR.

I forgot the other things, I tell you. But you may take my word for it, these dainties are very unsatisfying. Sit down at the table and read the bill of fare, and then I'll describe to you how the dishes taste. Here you are, Hedvig.

HEDVIG.

[_Gulping down her tears._] Thank you.

[_She seats herself, but does not read;_ GINA _makes signs to her;_ HIALMAR _notices it._

HIALMAR.

[_Pacing up and down the room._] It’s monstrous what absurd things the father of a family is expected to think of; and if he forgets the smallest trifle, he is treated to sour faces at once. Well, well, one gets used to that too. [_Stops near the stove, by the old man’s chair._] Have you peeped in there this evening, father?

EKDAL.

Yes, to be sure I have. She’s gone into the basket.

HIALMAR.

Ah, she _has_ gone into the basket. Then she’s beginning to get used to it.

EKDAL.

Yes; just as I prophesied. But you know there are still a few little things——

HIALMAR.

A few improvements, yes.

EKDAL.

They’ve _got_ to be made, you know.

HIALMAR.

Yes, let us have a talk about the improvements, father. Come, let us sit on the sofa.

EKDAL.

All right. H'm—think I'll just fill my pipe first. Must clean it out, too. H'm.

[_He goes into his room._

GINA.

[_Smiling to HIALMAR._] His pipe!

HIALMAR.

Oh yes yes, Gina; let him alone—the poor shipwrecked old man.—Yes, these improvements—we had better get them out of hand to-morrow.

GINA.

You’ll hardly have time to-morrow, Ekdal.

HEDVIG.

[_Interposing._] Oh yes he will, mother!

GINA.

——for remember them prints that has to be retouched; they’ve sent for them time after time.

HIALMAR.

There now! those prints again! I shall get them finished all right! Have any new orders come in?

GINA.

No, worse luck; to-morrow I have nothing but those two sittings, you know.

HIALMAR.

Nothing else? Oh no, if people won’t set about things with a will——

GINA.

But what more can I do? Don’t I advertise in the papers as much as we can afford?

HIALMAR.

Yes, the papers, the papers; you see how much good _they_ do. And I suppose no one has been to look at the room either?

GINA.

No, not yet.

HIALMAR.

That was only to be expected. If people won’t keep their eyes open——. Nothing can be done without a real effort, Gina!

HEDVIG.

[_Going towards him._] Shall I fetch you the flute, father?

HIALMAR.

No; no flute for me; _I_ want no pleasures in this world. [_Pacing about._] Yes, indeed I will work to-morrow; you shall see if I don’t. You may be sure I shall work as long as my strength holds out.

GINA.

But my dear good Ekdal, I didn’t mean it in _that_ way.

HEDVIG.

Father, mayn’t I bring in a bottle of beer?

HIALMAR.

No, certainly not. I require nothing, nothing——[_Comes to a standstill._] Beer? Was it beer you were talking about?

HEDVIG.

[_Cheerfully._] Yes, father; beautiful fresh beer.

HIALMAR.

Well—since you insist upon it, you may bring in a bottle.

GINA.

Yes, do; and we’ll be nice and cosy.

[HEDVIG _runs towards the kitchen door._

HIALMAR.