Part 3
I have heard that her real name is Varg.
EYOLF.
Varg! That means a wolf, doesn’t it?
ALLMERS.
[_Patting him on the head._] So you know that, do you?
EYOLF.
[_Cautiously._] Then perhaps it may be true, after all, that she is a were-wolf at night. Do you believe that, Papa?
ALLMERS.
Oh, no; I don’t believe it. Now you ought to go and play a little in the garden.
EYOLF.
Should I not take some books with me?
ALLMERS.
No, no books after this. You had better go down to the beach to the other boys.
EYOLF.
[_Shyly._] No, Papa, I won’t go down to the boys to-day.
ALLMERS.
Why not?
EYOLF.
Oh, because I have these clothes on.
ALLMERS.
[_Knitting his brows._] Do you mean that they make fun of—of your pretty clothes?
EYOLF.
[_Evasively._] No, they daren’t—for then I would thrash them.
ALLMERS.
Aha!—then why——?
EYOLF.
You see, they are so naughty, these boys. And then they say I can never be a soldier.
ALLMERS.
[_With suppressed indignation._] Why do they say that, do you think?
EYOLF.
I suppose they are jealous of me. For you know, Papa, they are so poor, they have to go about barefoot.
ALLMERS.
[_Softly, with choking voice._] Oh, Rita—how it wrings my heart!
RITA.
[_Soothingly, rising._] There, there, there!
ALLMERS.
[_Threateningly._] But these rascals shall soon find out who is the master down at the beach!
ASTA.
[_Listening._] There is some one knocking.
EYOLF.
Oh, I’m sure it’s Borgheim!
RITA.
Come in.
[_The RAT-WIFE comes softly and noiselessly in by the door on the right. She is a thin little shrunken figure, old and grey-haired, with keen, piercing eyes, dressed in an old-fashioned flowered gown, with a black hood and cloak. She has in her hand a large red umbrella, and carries a black bag by a loop over her arm._
EYOLF.
[_Softly, taking hold of ASTA’S dress._] Auntie! That must surely be her!
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Curtseying at the door._] I humbly beg pardon—but are your worships troubled with any gnawing things in the house?
ALLMERS.
Here? No, I don’t think so.
THE RAT-WIFE.
For it would be such a pleasure to me to rid your worships’ house of them.
RITA.
Yes, yes; we understand. But we have nothing of the sort here.
THE RAT-WIFE.
That’s very unlucky, that is; for I just happened to be on my rounds now, and goodness knows when I may be in these parts again.—Oh, how tired I am!
ALLMERS.
[_Pointing to a chair._] Yes, you look tired.
THE RAT-WIFE.
I know one ought never to get tired of doing good to the poor little things that are hated and persecuted so cruelly. But it takes your strength out of you, it does.
RITA.
Won’t you sit down and rest a little?
THE RAT-WIFE.
I thank your ladyship with all my heart. [_Seats herself on a chair between the door and the sofa._] I have been out all night at my work.
ALLMERS.
Have you indeed?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Yes, over on the islands. [_With a chuckling laugh._] The people sent for me, I can assure you. They didn’t like it a bit; but there was nothing else to be done. They had to put a good face on it, and bite the sour apple. [_Looks at EYOLF, and nods._] The sour apple, little master, the sour apple.
EYOLF.
[_Involuntarily, a little timidly._] Why did they have to——?
THE RAT-WIFE.
What?
EYOLF.
To bite it?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Why, because they couldn’t keep body and soul together on account of the rats and all the little rat-children, you see, young master.
RITA.
Ugh! Poor people! Have they so many of them?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Yes, it was all alive and swarming with them. [_Laughs with quiet glee._] They came creepy-crawly up into the beds all night long. They plumped into the milk-cans, and they went pittering and pattering all over the floor, backwards and forwards, and up and down.
EYOLF.
[_Softly, to ASTA._] I shall never go there, Auntie.
THE RAT-WIFE.
But then I came—I, and another along with me. And we took them with us, every one—the sweet little creatures! We made an end of every one of them.
EYOLF.
[_With a shriek._] Papa—look! look!
RITA.
Good Heavens, Eyolf!
ALLMERS.
What’s the matter?
EYOLF.
[_Pointing._] There’s something wriggling in the bag!
RITA.
[_At the extreme left, shrieks._] Ugh! Send her away, Alfred.
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Laughing._] Oh, dearest lady, you needn’t be frightened of such a little mannikin.
ALLMERS.
But what _is_ the thing?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Why, it’s only little Mopsëman. [_Loosening the string of the bag._] Come up out of the dark, my own little darling friend.
[_A little dog with a broad black snout pokes its head out of the bag._
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Nodding and beckoning to EYOLF._] Come along, don’t be afraid, my little wounded warrior! He won’t bite. Come here! Come here!
EYOLF.
[_Clinging to ASTA._] No, I dare not.
THE RAT-WIFE.
Don’t you think he has a gentle, lovable countenance, my young master?
EYOLF.
[_Astonished, pointing._] That thing _there_?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Yes, this thing here.
EYOLF.
[_Almost under his breath, staring fixedly at the dog._] I think he has the horriblest—countenance I ever saw.
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Closing the bag._] Oh, it will come—it will come, right enough.
EYOLF.
[_Involuntarily drawing nearer, at last goes right up to her, and strokes the bag._] But he is lovely—lovely all the same.
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_In a tone of caution._] But now he is so tired and weary, poor thing. He’s utterly tired out, he is. [_Looks at ALLMERS._] For it takes the strength out of you, that sort of game, I can tell you, sir.
ALLMERS.
What sort of game do you mean?
THE RAT-WIFE.
The luring game.
ALLMERS.
Do you mean that it is the dog that lures the rats?
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Nodding._] Mopsëman and I—we two do it together. And it goes so smoothly—for all you can see, at any rate. I just slip a string through his collar, and then I lead him three times round the house, and play on my Pan’s-pipes. When they hear that, they have got to come up from the cellars, and down from the garrets, and out of their holes, all the blessed little creatures.
EYOLF.
And does he bite them to death then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Oh, not at all! No, we go down to the boat, he and I do—and then they follow after us, both the big ones and the little ratikins.
EYOLF.
[_Eagerly._] And what then—tell me!
THE RAT-WIFE.
Then we push out from the land, and I scull with one oar, and play on my Pan’s-pipes. And Mopsëman, he swims behind. [_With glittering eyes._] And all the creepers and crawlers, they follow and follow us out into the deep, deep waters. Ay, for they _have_ to.
EYOLF.
Why have they to?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Just because they want not to—just because they are so deadly afraid of the water. That is why they have got to plunge into it.
EYOLF.
Are they drowned, then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Every blessed one. [_More softly._] And there it is all as still, and soft, and dark as their hearts can desire, the lovely little things. Down there they sleep a long, sweet sleep, with no one to hate them or persecute them any more. [_Rises._] In the old days, I can tell you, I didn’t need any Mopsëman. Then I did the luring myself—I alone.
EYOLF.
And what did you lure then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
Men. One most of all.
EYOLF.
[_With eagerness._] Oh, who was that one? Tell me!
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Laughing._] It was my own sweetheart, it was, little heart-breaker!
EYOLF.
And where is he now, then?
THE RAT-WIFE.
[_Harshly._] Down where all the rats are. [_Resuming her milder tone._] But now I must be off and get to business again. Always on the move. [_To RITA._] So your ladyship has no sort of use for me to-day? I could finish it all off while I am about it.
RITA.
No, thank you; I don’t think we require anything.
THE RAT-WIFE.
Well, well, your sweet ladyship, you can never tell. If your ladyship should find that there is anything here that keeps nibbling and gnawing, and creeping and crawling, then just see and get hold of me and Mopsëman.—Good-bye, good-bye, a kind good-bye to you all.
[_She goes out by the door on the right._
EYOLF.
[_Softly and triumphantly, to ASTA._] Only think, Auntie, now I have seen the Rat-Wife too!
[_RITA goes out upon the verandah, and fans herself with her pocket-handkerchief. Shortly afterwards, EYOLF slips cautiously and unnoticed out to the right._
ALLMERS.
[_Takes up the portfolio from the table by the sofa._] Is this your portfolio, Asta?
ASTA.
Yes. I have some of the old letters in it.
ALLMERS.
Ah, the family letters——
ASTA.
You know you asked me to arrange them for you while you were away.
ALLMERS.
[_Pats her on the head._] And you have actually found time to do that, dear?
ASTA.
Oh, yes. I have done it partly out here and partly at my own rooms in town.
ALLMERS.
Thanks, dear. Did you find anything particular in them?
ASTA.
[_Lightly._] Oh, you know you always find something or other in such old papers. [_Speaking lower and seriously._] It is the letters to mother that are in this portfolio.
ALLMERS.
Those, of course, you must keep yourself.
ASTA.
[_With an effort._] No; I am determined that you shall look through them, too, Alfred. Some time—later on in life. I haven’t the key of the portfolio with me just now.
ALLMERS.
It doesn’t matter, my dear Asta, for I shall never read your mother’s letters in any case.
ASTA.
[_Fixing her eyes on him._] Then some time or other—some quiet evening—I will tell you a little of what is in them.
ALLMERS.
Yes, that will be much better. But do you keep your mother’s letters—you haven’t so many mementos of her.
[_He hands ASTA the portfolio. She takes it, and lays it on the chair under her outdoor things. RITA comes into the room again._
RITA.
Ugh! I feel as if that horrible old woman had brought a sort of graveyard smell with her.
ALLMERS.
Yes, she was rather horrible.
RITA.
I felt almost sick while she was in the room.
ALLMERS.
However, I can very well understand the sort of spellbound fascination that she talked about. The loneliness of the mountain-peaks and of the great waste places has something of the same magic about it.
ASTA.
[_Looks attentively at him._] What is it that has happened to you, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
[_Smiling._] To me?
ASTA.
Yes, something has happened—something seems almost to have transformed you. Rita noticed it too.
RITA.
Yes, I saw it the moment you came. A change for the better, I hope, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
It _ought_ to be for the better. And it must and shall come to good.
RITA.
[_With an outburst._] You have had some adventure on your journey! Don’t deny it! I can see it in your face!
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] No adventure in the world—outwardly at least. But——
RITA.
[_Eagerly._] But——?
ALLMERS.
It is true that within me there has been something of a revolution.
RITA.
Oh Heavens——!
ALLMERS.
[_Soothingly, patting her hand._] Only for the better, my dear Rita. You may be perfectly certain of that.
RITA.
[_Seats herself on the sofa._] You must tell us all about it, at once—tell us everything!
ALLMERS.
[_Turning to ASTA._] Yes, let us sit down, too, Asta. Then I will try to tell you as well as I can.
[_He seats himself on the sofa at RITA’S side. ASTA moves a chair forward, and places herself near him._
RITA.
[_Looking at him expectantly._] Well——?
ALLMERS.
[_Gazing straight before him._] When I look back over my life—and my fortunes—for the last ten or eleven years, it seems to me almost like a fairy-tale or a dream. Don’t you think so too, Asta?
ASTA.
Yes, in many ways I think so.
ALLMERS.
[_Continuing._] When I remember what we two used to be, Asta—we two poor orphan children——
RITA.
[_Impatiently._] Oh, that is such an old, old story.
ALLMERS.
[_Not listening to her._] And now here I am in comfort and luxury. I have been able to follow my vocation. I have been able to work and study—just as I had always longed to. [_Holds out his hand._] And all this great—this fabulous good fortune we owe to you, my dearest Rita.
RITA.
[_Half playfully, half angrily, slaps his hand._] Oh, I do wish you would stop talking like that.
ALLMERS.
I speak of it only as a sort of introduction.
RITA.
Then do skip the introduction!
ALLMERS.
Rita,—you must not think it was the doctor’s advice that drove me up to the mountains.
ASTA.
Was it not, Alfred?
RITA.
What was it, then?
ALLMERS.
It was this: I found there was no more peace for me, there in my study.
RITA.
No peace! Why, who disturbed you?
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking his head._] No one from without. But I felt as though I were positively abusing—or, say rather, wasting—my best powers—frittering away the time.
ASTA.
[_With wide eyes._] When you were writing at your book?
ALLMERS.
[_Nodding._] For I cannot think that my powers are confined to that alone. I must surely have it in me to do one or two other things as well.
RITA.
Was that what you sat there brooding over?
ALLMERS.
Yes, mainly that.
RITA.
And so that is what has made you so discontented with yourself of late; and with the rest of us as well. For you know you were discontented, Alfred.
ALLMERS.
[_Gazing straight before him._] There I sat bent over my table, day after day, and often half the night too—writing and writing at the great thick book on “Human Responsibility.” H’m!
ASTA.
[_Laying her hand upon his arm._] But, Alfred—that book is to be your life-work.
RITA.
Yes, you have said so often enough.
ALLMERS.
I thought so. Ever since I grew up, I have thought so. [_With an affectionate expression in his eyes._] And it was you that enabled me to devote myself to it, my dear Rita——
RITA.
Oh, nonsense!
ALLMERS.
[_Smiling to her._]—you, with your gold, and your green forests——
RITA.
[_Half laughing, half vexed._] If you begin all that rubbish again, I shall beat you.
ASTA.
[_Looking sorrowfully at him._] But the book, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
It began, as it were, to drift away from me. But I was more and more beset by the thought of the higher duties that laid their claims upon me.
RITA.
[_Beaming, seizes his hand._] Alfred!
ALLMERS.
The thought of Eyolf, my dear Rita.
RITA.
[_Disappointed, drops his hand._] Ah—of Eyolf!
ALLMERS.
Poor little Eyolf has taken deeper and deeper hold of me. After that unlucky fall from the table—and especially since we have been assured that the injury is incurable——
RITA.
[_Insistently._] But you take all the care you possibly can of him, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
As a schoolmaster, yes; but not as a father. And it is a father that I want henceforth to be to Eyolf.
RITA.
[_Looking at him and shaking her head._] I don’t think I quite understand you.
ALLMERS.
I mean that I will try with all my might to make his misfortune as painless and easy to him as it can possibly be.
RITA.
Oh, but, dear—thank Heaven, I don’t think he feels it so deeply.
ASTA.
[_With emotion._] Yes, Rita, he does.
ALLMERS.
Yes, you may be sure he feels it deeply.
RITA.
[_Impatiently._] But, Alfred, what more can you do for him?
ALLMERS.
I will try to perfect all the rich possibilities that are dawning in his childish soul. I will foster all the noble germs in his nature—make them blossom and bear fruit. [_With more and more warmth, rising._] And I will do more than that! I will help him to bring his desires into harmony with what lies attainable before him. That is just what at present they are not. All his longings are for things that must for ever remain unattainable to him. But I will create a conscious happiness in his mind.
[_He goes once or twice up and down the room. ASTA and RITA follow him with their eyes._
RITA.
You should take these things more quietly, Alfred!
ALLMERS.
[_Stops beside the table on the left, and looks at them._] Eyolf shall carry on my life-work—if he wants to. Or he shall choose one that is altogether his own. Perhaps that would be best. At all events, I shall let mine rest as it is.
RITA.
[_Rising._] But, Alfred dear, can you not work both for yourself and for Eyolf?
ALLMERS.
No, I cannot. It is impossible! I cannot divide myself in this matter—and therefore I efface myself. Eyolf shall be the complete man of our race. And it shall be my new life-work to make him the complete man.
ASTA.
[_Has risen and now goes up to him._] This must have cost you a terribly hard struggle, Alfred?
ALLMERS.
Yes, it has. At home here, I should never have conquered myself, never brought myself to the point of renunciation. Never at home!
RITA.
Then that was why you went away this summer?
ALLMERS.
[_With shining eyes._] Yes! I went up into the infinite solitudes. I saw the sunrise gleaming on the mountain peaks. I felt myself nearer the stars—I seemed almost to be in sympathy and communion with them. And then I found the strength for it.
ASTA.
[_Looking sadly at him._] But you will never write any more of your book on "Human Responsibility"?
ALLMERS.
No, never, Asta. I tell you I cannot split up my life between two vocations. But I will act out my "human responsibility"—in my own life.
RITA.
[_With a smile._] Do you think you can live up to such high resolves at home here?
ALLMERS.
[_Taking her hand._] With you to help me, I can. [_Holds out the other hand._] And with you too, Asta.
RITA.
[_Drawing her hand away._] Ah—with both of us! So, after all, you _can_ divide yourself.
ALLMERS.
Why, my dearest Rita——!
[_RITA moves away from him and stands in the garden doorway. A light and rapid knock is heard at the door on the right. Engineer BORGHEIM enters quickly. He is a young man of a little over thirty. His expression is bright and cheerful, and he holds himself erect._
BORGHEIM.
Good morning, Mrs. Allmers. [_Stops with an expression of pleasure on seeing ALLMERS._] Why, what’s this? Home again already, Mr. Allmers?
ALLMERS.
[_Shaking hands with him._] Yes, I arrived last night.
RITA.
[_Gaily._] His leave was up, Mr. Borgheim.
ALLMERS.
No, you know it wasn’t, Rita——
RITA.
[_Approaching._] Oh yes, but it was, though. His furlough had run out.
BORGHEIM.
I see you hold your husband well in hand, Mrs. Allmers.
RITA.
I hold to my rights. And besides, everything must have an end.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, not everything—I hope. Good morning, Miss Allmers!
ASTA.
[_Holding aloof from him._] Good morning.
RITA.
[_Looking at BORGHEIM._] Not everything, you say?
BORGHEIM.
Oh, I am firmly convinced that there are _some_ things in the world that will never come to an end.
RITA.
I suppose you are thinking of love—and that sort of thing.
BORGHEIM.
[_Warmly._] I am thinking of all that is lovely!
RITA.
And that never comes to an end. Yes, let us think of that, hope for that, all of us.
ALLMERS.
[_Coming up to them._] I suppose you will soon have finished your road-work out here?
BORGHEIM.
I have finished it already—finished it yesterday. It has been a long business, but, thank Heaven, _that_ has come to an end.
RITA.
And you are beaming with joy over that?
BORGHEIM.
Yes, I am indeed!
RITA.
Well, I must say——
BORGHEIM.
What, Mrs. Allmers?
RITA.
I don’t think it is particularly nice of you, Mr. Borgheim.
BORGHEIM.
Indeed! Why not?
RITA.
Well, I suppose we sha’n’t often see you in these parts after this.
BORGHEIM.
No, that is true. I hadn’t thought of that.
RITA.
Oh well, I suppose you will be able to look in upon us now and then all the same.
BORGHEIM.
No, unfortunately that will be out of my power for a very long time.
ALLMERS.
Indeed! How so?
BORGHEIM.
The fact is, I have got a big piece of new work that I must set about at once.
ALLMERS.
Have you indeed?—[_Pressing his hand._]—I am heartily glad to hear it.
RITA.
I congratulate you, Mr. Borgheim!
BORGHEIM.
Hush, hush—I really ought not to talk openly of it as yet! But I can’t help coming out with it! It is a great piece of road-making—up in the north—with mountain ranges to cross, and the most tremendous difficulties to overcome!—[_With an outburst of gladness._]—Oh, what a glorious world this is—and what a joy it is to be a road-maker in it!
RITA.
[_Smiling, and looking teasingly at him._] Is it road-making business that has brought you out here to-day in such wild spirits?
BORGHEIM.
No, not that alone. I am thinking of all the bright and hopeful prospects that are opening out before me.
RITA.
Aha, then perhaps you have something still more exquisite in reserve!
BORGHEIM.
[_Glancing towards ASTA._] Who knows! When once happiness comes to us, it is apt to come like a spring flood. [_Turns to ASTA._] Miss Allmers, would you not like to take a little walk with me? As we used to?
ASTA.
[_Quickly._] No—no, thank you. Not now. Not to-day.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, do come! Only a little bit of a walk! I have so much I want to talk to you about before I go.
RITA.
Something else, perhaps, that you must not talk openly about as yet?
BORGHEIM.
H’m, that depends——
RITA.
But there is nothing to prevent your whispering, you know. [_Half aside._] Asta, you must really go with him.
ASTA.
But, my dear Rita——
BORGHEIM.
[_Imploringly._] Miss Asta—remember it is to be a farewell walk—the last for many a day.
ASTA.
[_Takes her hat and parasol._] Very well, suppose we take a stroll in the garden, then.
BORGHEIM.
Oh, thank you, thank you!
ALLMERS.
And while you are there you can see what Eyolf is doing.
BORGHEIM.
Ah, Eyolf, by the bye! Where is Eyolf to-day? I’ve got something for him.
ALLMERS.
He is out playing somewhere.
BORGHEIM.
Is he really! Then he has begun to play now? He used always to be sitting indoors over his books.
ALLMERS.
There is to be an end of that now. I am going to make a regular open-air boy of him.
BORGHEIM.
Ah, now, that’s right! Out into the open air with him, poor little fellow! Good Lord, what can we possibly do better than play in this blessed world? For my part, I think all life is one long playtime!—Come, Miss Asta!
[_BORGHEIM and ASTA go out on the verandah and down through the garden._
ALLMERS.
[_Stands looking after them._] Rita—do you think there is anything between those two?
RITA.
I don’t know what to say. I used to think there was. But Asta has grown so strange to me—so utterly incomprehensible of late.
ALLMERS.
Indeed! Has she? While I have been away?
RITA.
Yes, within the last week or two.
ALLMERS.
And you think she doesn’t care very much about him now?
RITA.
Not seriously; not utterly and entirely; not unreservedly—I am sure she doesn’t. [_Looks searchingly at him._] Would it displease you if she did?
ALLMERS.
It would not exactly displease me. But it would certainly be a disquieting thought——
RITA.
Disquieting?
ALLMERS.
Yes; you must remember that I am responsible for Asta—for her life’s happiness.
RITA.
Oh, come—responsible! Surely Asta has come to years of discretion? I should say she was capable of choosing for herself.
ALLMERS.
Yes, we must hope so, Rita.