Part 3
_A spacious, handsome, and tastefully furnished drawing-room, decorated in dark colours. In the back, a wide doorway with curtains drawn back, leading into a smaller room decorated in the same style as the drawing-room. In the right-hand wall of the front room, a folding door leading out to the hall. In the opposite wall, on the left, a glass door, also with curtains drawn back. Through the panes can be seen part of a veranda outside, and trees covered with autumn foliage. An oval table, with a cover on it, and surrounded by chairs, stands well forward. In front, by the wall on the right, a wide stove of dark porcelain, a high-backed arm-chair, a cushioned foot-rest, and two footstools. A settee, with a small round table in front of it, fills the upper right-hand corner. In front, on the left, a little way from the wall, a sofa. Further back than the glass door, a piano. On either side of the doorway at the back a what-not with terra-cotta and majolica ornaments.—Against the back wall of the inner room a sofa, with a table, and one or two chairs. Over the sofa hangs the portrait of a handsome elderly man in a General’s uniform. Over the table a hanging lamp, with an opal glass shade.—A number of bouquets are arranged about the drawing-room, in vases and glasses. Others lie upon the tables. The floors in both rooms are covered with thick carpets.—Morning light. The sun shines in through the glass door._
_MISS JULIANA TESMAN, with her bonnet on and carrying a parasol, comes in from the hall, followed by BERTA, who carries a bouquet wrapped in paper. MISS TESMAN is a comely and pleasant-looking lady of about sixty-five. She is nicely but simply dressed in a grey walking-costume. BERTA is a middle-aged woman of plain and rather countrified appearance._
MISS TESMAN.
[_Stops close to the door, listens, and says softly_:] Upon my word, I don’t believe they are stirring yet!
BERTA.
[_Also softly._] I told you so, Miss. Remember how late the steamboat got in last night. And then, when they got home!—good Lord, what a lot the young mistress had to unpack before she could get to bed.
MISS TESMAN.
Well well—let them have their sleep out. But let us see that they get a good breath of the fresh morning air when they do appear.
[_She goes to the glass door and throws it open._
BERTA.
[_Beside the table, at a loss what to do with the bouquet in her hand._] I declare there isn’t a bit of room left. I think I’ll put it down here, Miss.
[_She places it on the piano._
MISS TESMAN.
So you’ve got a new mistress now, my dear Berta. Heaven knows it was a wrench to me to part with you.
BERTA.
[_On the point of weeping._] And do you think it wasn’t hard for me too, Miss? After all the blessed years I’ve been with you and Miss Rina.[13]
MISS TESMAN.
We must make the best of it, Berta. There was nothing else to be done. George can’t do without you, you see—he absolutely can’t. He has had you to look after him ever since he was a little boy.
BERTA.
Ah but, Miss Julia, I can’t help thinking of Miss Rina lying helpless at home there, poor thing. And with only that new girl too! _She’ll_ never learn to take proper care of an invalid.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, I shall manage to train her. And of course, you know, I shall take most of it upon myself. You needn’t be uneasy about my poor sister, my dear Berta.
BERTA.
Well, but there’s another thing, Miss. I’m so mortally afraid I shan’t be able to suit the young mistress.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh well—just at first there may be one or two things——
BERTA.
Most like she’ll be terrible grand in her ways.
MISS TESMAN.
Well, you can’t wonder at that—General Gabler’s daughter! Think of the sort of life she was accustomed to in her father’s time. Don’t you remember how we used to see her riding down the road along with the General? In that long black habit—and with feathers in her hat?
BERTA.
Yes indeed—I remember well enough!—But, good Lord, I should never have dreamt in those days that she and Master George would make a match of it.
MISS TESMAN.
Nor I.—But by-the-bye, Berta—while I think of it: in future you mustn’t say Master George. You must say Dr. Tesman.
BERTA.
Yes, the young mistress spoke of that too—last night—the moment they set foot in the house. Is it true then, Miss?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, indeed it is. Only think, Berta—some foreign university has made him a doctor—while he has been abroad, you understand. I hadn’t heard a word about it, until he told me himself upon the pier.
BERTA.
Well well, he’s clever enough for anything, he is. But I didn’t think he’d have gone in for doctoring people too.
MISS TESMAN.
No no, it’s not that sort of doctor he is. [_Nods significantly._] But let me tell you, we may have to call him something still grander before long.
BERTA.
You don’t say so! What can _that_ be, Miss?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Smiling._] H’m—wouldn’t you like to know! [_With emotion._] Ah, dear dear—if my poor brother could only look up from his grave now, and see what his little boy has grown into! [_Looks around._] But bless me, Berta—why have you done _this_? Taken the chintz covers off all the furniture?
BERTA.
The mistress told me to. She can’t abide covers on the chairs, she says.
MISS TESMAN.
Are they going to make this their everyday sitting-room then?
BERTA.
Yes, that’s what I understood—from the mistress. Master George—the doctor—he said nothing.
_GEORGE TESMAN comes from the right into the inner room, humming to himself, and carrying an unstrapped empty portmanteau. He is a middle-sized, young-looking man of thirty-three, rather stout, with a round, open, cheerful face, fair hair and beard. He wears spectacles, and is somewhat carelessly dressed in comfortable indoor clothes._
MISS TESMAN.
Good morning, good morning, George.
TESMAN.
[_In the doorway between the rooms._] Aunt Julia! Dear Aunt Julia! [_Goes up to her and shakes hands warmly._] Come all this way—so early! Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Why, of course I had to come and see how you were getting on.
TESMAN.
In spite of your having had no proper night’s rest?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, that makes no difference to me.
TESMAN.
Well, I suppose you got home all right from the pier? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, quite safely, thank goodness. Judge Brack was good enough to see me right to my door.
TESMAN.
We were so sorry we couldn’t give you a seat in the carriage. But you saw what a pile of boxes Hedda had to bring with her.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, she had certainly plenty of boxes.
BERTA.
[_To TESMAN._] Shall I go in and see if there’s anything I can do for the mistress?
TESMAN.
No thank you, Berta—you needn’t. She said she would ring if she wanted anything.
BERTA.
[_Going towards the right._] Very well.
TESMAN.
But look here—take this portmanteau with you.
BERTA.
[_Taking it._] I’ll put it in the attic.
[_She goes out by the hall door._
TESMAN.
Fancy, Auntie—I had the whole of that portmanteau chock full of copies of documents. You wouldn’t believe how much I have picked up from all the archives I have been examining—curious old details that no one has had any idea of——
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, you don’t seem to have wasted your time on your wedding trip, George.
TESMAN.
No, that I haven’t. But do take off your bonnet, Auntie. Look here! Let me untie the strings—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
[_While he does so._] Well well—this is just as if you were still at home with us.
TESMAN.
[_With the bonnet in his hand, looks at it from all sides._] Why, what a gorgeous bonnet you’ve been investing in!
MISS TESMAN.
I bought it on Hedda’s account.
TESMAN.
On Hedda’s account? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, so that Hedda needn’t be ashamed of me if we happened to go out together.
TESMAN.
[_Patting her cheek._] You always think of everything, Aunt Julia. [_Lays the bonnet on a chair beside the table._] And now, look here—suppose we sit comfortably on the sofa and have a little chat, till Hedda comes.
[_They seat themselves. She places her parasol in the corner of the sofa._
MISS TESMAN.
[_Takes both his hands and looks at him._] What a delight it is to have you again, as large as life, before my very eyes, George! My George—my poor brother’s own boy!
TESMAN.
And it’s a delight for me, too, to see you again, Aunt Julia! You, who have been father and mother in one to me.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, I know you will always keep a place in your heart for your old aunts.
TESMAN.
And what about Aunt Rina? No improvement—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh no—we can scarcely look for any improvement in her case, poor thing. There she lies, helpless, as she has lain for all these years. But heaven grant I may not lose her yet awhile! For if I did, I don’t know what I should make of my life, George—especially now that I haven’t you to look after any more.
TESMAN.
[_Patting her back._] There there there——!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Suddenly changing her tone._] And to think that here are you a married man, George!—And that _you_ should be the one to carry off Hedda Gabler—the beautiful Hedda Gabler! Only think of it—she, that was so beset with admirers!
TESMAN.
[_Hums a little and smiles complacently._] Yes, I fancy I have several good friends about town who would like to stand in my shoes—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
And then this fine long wedding-tour you have had! More than five—nearly six months——
TESMAN.
Well, for me it has been a sort of tour of research as well. I have had to do so much grubbing among old records—and to read no end of books too, Auntie.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, I suppose so. [_More confidentially, and lowering her voice a little._] But listen now, George,—have you nothing—nothing special to tell me?
TESMAN.
As to our journey?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes.
TESMAN.
No, I don’t know of anything except what I have told you in my letters. I had a doctor’s degree conferred on me—but that I told you yesterday.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, yes, you did. But what I mean is—haven’t you any—any—expectations——?
TESMAN.
Expectations?
MISS TESMAN.
Why you know, George—I’m your old auntie!
TESMAN.
Why, of course I have expectations.
MISS TESMAN.
Ah!
TESMAN.
I have every expectation of being a professor one of these days.
MISS TESMAN.
Oh yes, a professor——
TESMAN.
Indeed, I may say I am certain of it. But my dear Auntie—you know all about that already!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Laughing to herself._] Yes, of course I do. You are quite right there. [_Changing the subject._] But we were talking about your journey. It must have cost a great deal of money, George?
TESMAN.
Well, you see—my handsome travelling-scholarship went a good way.
MISS TESMAN.
But I can’t understand how you can have made it go far enough for two.
TESMAN.
No, that’s not so easy to understand—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
And especially travelling with a lady—they tell me that makes it ever so much more expensive.
TESMAN.
Yes, of course—it makes it a little more expensive. But Hedda _had_ to have this trip, Auntie! She really _had_ to. Nothing else would have done.
MISS TESMAN.
No no, I suppose not. A wedding-tour seems to be quite indispensable nowadays.—But tell me now—have you gone thoroughly over the house yet?
TESMAN.
Yes, you may be sure I have. I have been afoot ever since daylight.
MISS TESMAN.
And what do you think of it all?
TESMAN.
I’m delighted! Quite delighted! Only I can’t think what we are to do with the two empty rooms between this inner parlour and Hedda’s bedroom.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Laughing._] Oh my dear George, I daresay you may find some use for them—in the course of time.
TESMAN.
Why of course you are quite right, Aunt Julia! You mean as my library increases—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, quite so, my dear boy. It was your library I was thinking of.
TESMAN.
I am specially pleased on Hedda’s account. Often and often, before we were engaged, she said that she would never care to live anywhere but in Secretary Falk’s villa.[14]
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, it was lucky that this very house should come into the market, just after you had started.
TESMAN.
Yes, Aunt Julia, the luck was on our side, wasn’t it——eh?
MISS TESMAN.
But the expense, my dear George. You will find it very expensive, all this.
TESMAN.
[_Looks at her, a little cast down._] Yes, I suppose I shall, Aunt!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, frightfully!
TESMAN.
How much do you think? In round numbers?—Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, I can’t even guess until all the accounts come in.
TESMAN.
Well, fortunately, Judge Brack has secured the most favourable terms for me,—so he said in a letter to Hedda.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, don’t be uneasy, my dear boy.—Besides, I have given security for the furniture and all the carpets.
TESMAN.
Security? You? My dear Aunt Julia—what sort of security could _you_ give?
MISS TESMAN.
I have given a mortgage on our annuity.
TESMAN.
[_Jumps up._] What! On your—and Aunt Rina’s annuity!
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, I knew of no other plan, you see.
TESMAN.
[_Placing himself before her._] Have you gone out of your senses, Auntie! Your annuity—it’s all that you and Aunt Rina have to live upon.
MISS TESMAN.
Well well—don’t get so excited about it. It’s only a matter of form you know—Judge Brack assured me of that. It was he that was kind enough to arrange the whole affair for me. A mere matter of form, he said.
TESMAN.
Yes, that may be all very well. But nevertheless——
MISS TESMAN.
You will have your own salary to depend upon now. And, good heavens, even if we did have to pay up a little——! To eke things out a bit at the start——! Why, it would be nothing but a pleasure to us.
TESMAN.
Oh Auntie—will you never be tired of making sacrifices for me!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Rises and lays her hand on his shoulders._] Have I any other happiness in this world except to smooth your way for you, my dear boy? You, who have had neither father nor mother to depend on. And now we have reached the goal, George! Things have looked black enough for us, sometimes; but, thank heaven, now you have nothing to fear.
TESMAN.
Yes, it is really marvellous how everything has turned out for the best.
MISS TESMAN.
And the people who opposed you—who wanted to bar the way for you—now you have them at your feet. They have fallen, George. Your most dangerous rival—his fall was the worst.—And now he has to lie on the bed he has made for himself—poor misguided creature.
TESMAN.
Have you heard anything of Eilert? Since I went away, I mean.
MISS TESMAN.
Only that he is said to have published a new book.
TESMAN.
What! Eilert Lövborg! Recently—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, so they say. Heaven knows whether it can be worth anything! Ah, when _your_ new book appears—that will be another story, George! What is it to be about?
TESMAN.
It will deal with the domestic industries of Brabant during the Middle Ages.
MISS TESMAN.
Fancy—to be able to write on such a subject as that!
TESMAN.
However, it may be some time before the book is ready. I have all these collections to arrange first, you see.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, collecting and arranging—no one can beat you at that. There you are my poor brother’s own son.
TESMAN.
I am looking forward eagerly to setting to work at it; especially now that I have my own delightful home to work in.
MISS TESMAN.
And, most of all, now that you have got the wife of your heart, my dear George.
TESMAN.
[_Embracing her._] Oh yes, yes, Aunt Julia! Hedda—she is the best part of it all! [_Looks towards the doorway._] I believe I hear her coming—eh?
_HEDDA enters from the left through the inner room. She is a woman of nine-and-twenty. Her face and figure show refinement and distinction. Her complexion is pale and opaque. Her steel-grey eyes express a cold, unruffled repose. Her hair is of an agreeable medium brown, but not particularly abundant. She is dressed in a tasteful, somewhat loose-fitting morning gown._
MISS TESMAN.
[_Going to meet HEDDA._] Good morning, my dear Hedda! Good morning, and a hearty welcome!
HEDDA.
[_Holds out her hand._] Good morning, dear Miss Tesman! So early a call! That is kind of you.
MISS TESMAN.
[_With some embarrassment._] Well—has the bride slept well in her new home?
HEDDA.
Oh yes, thanks. Passably.
TESMAN.
[_Laughing._] Passably! Come, that’s good, Hedda! You were sleeping like a stone when I got up.
HEDDA.
Fortunately. Of course one has always to accustom one’s self to new surroundings, Miss Tesman—little by little. [LOOKING TOWARDS THE LEFT.] Oh—there the servant has gone and opened the veranda door, and let in a whole flood of sunshine.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Going towards the door._] Well, then we will shut it.
HEDDA.
No no, not that! Tesman, please draw the curtains. That will give a softer light.
TESMAN.
[_At the door._] All right—all right.—There now, Hedda, now you have both shade and fresh air.
HEDDA.
Yes, fresh air we certainly must have, with all these stacks of flowers——. But—won’t you sit down, Miss Tesman?
MISS TESMAN.
No, thank you. Now that I have seen that everything is all right here—thank heaven!—I must be getting home again. My sister is lying longing for me, poor thing.
TESMAN.
Give her my very best love, Auntie; and say I shall look in and see her later in the day.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, yes, I’ll be sure to tell her. But by-the-bye, George—[_Feeling in her dress pocket_]—I had almost forgotten—I have something for you here.
TESMAN.
What is it, Auntie? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Produces a flat parcel wrapped in newspaper and hands it to him._] Look here, my dear boy.
TESMAN.
[_Opening the parcel._] Well, I declare!—Have you really saved them for me, Aunt Julia! Hedda! isn’t this touching—eh?
HEDDA.
[_Beside the whatnot on the right._] Well, what is it?
TESMAN.
My old morning-shoes! My slippers.
HEDDA.
Indeed. I remember you often spoke of them while we were abroad.
TESMAN.
Yes, I missed them terribly. [_Goes up to her._] Now you shall see them, Hedda!
HEDDA.
[_Going towards the stove._] Thanks, I really don’t care about it.
TESMAN.
[_Following her._] Only think—ill as she was, Aunt Rina embroidered these for me. Oh you can’t think how many associations cling to them.
HEDDA.
[_At the table._] Scarcely for me.
MISS TESMAN.
Of course not for Hedda, George.
TESMAN.
Well, but now that she belongs to the family, I thought——
HEDDA.
[_Interrupting._] We shall never get on with this servant, Tesman.
MISS TESMAN.
Not get on with Berta?
TESMAN.
Why, dear, what puts _that_ in your head? Eh?
HEDDA.
[_Pointing._] Look there! She has left her old bonnet lying about on a chair.
TESMAN.
[_In consternation, drops the slippers on the floor._] ] Why, Hedda——
HEDDA.
Just fancy, if any one should come in and see it!
TESMAN.
But Hedda—that’s Aunt Julia’s bonnet.
HEDDA.
Is it!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Taking up the bonnet._] Yes, indeed it’s mine. And, what’s more, it’s not old, Madam Hedda.
HEDDA.
I really did not look closely at it, Miss Tesman.
MISS TESMAN.
[_Trying on the bonnet._] Let me tell you it’s the first time I have worn it—the very first time.
TESMAN.
And a very nice bonnet it is too—quite a beauty!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, it’s no such great things, George. [_Looks around her._] My parasol——? Ah, here. [_Takes it._] For this is mine too—[_mutters_]—not Berta’s.
TESMAN.
A new bonnet and a new parasol! Only think, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Very handsome indeed.
TESMAN.
Yes, isn’t it? Eh? But Auntie, take a good look at Hedda before you go! See how handsome _she_ is!
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, my dear boy, there’s nothing new in _that_. Hedda was always lovely.
[_She nods and goes towards the right._
TESMAN.
[_Following._] Yes, but have you noticed what splendid condition she is in? How she has filled out on the journey?
HEDDA.
[_Crossing the room._] Oh, do be quiet——!
MISS TESMAN.
[_Who has stopped and turned._] Filled out?
TESMAN.
Of course you don’t notice it so much now that she has that dress on. But I, who can see——
HEDDA.
[_At the glass door, impatiently._] Oh, you can’t see anything.
TESMAN.
It must be the mountain air in the Tyrol——
HEDDA.
[_Curtly, interrupting._] I am exactly as I was when I started.
TESMAN.
So you insist; but I’m quite certain you are not. Don’t you agree with me, Auntie?
MISS TESMAN.
[_Who has been gazing at her with folded hands._] Hedda is lovely—lovely—lovely. [_Goes up to her, takes her head between both hands, draws it downwards, and kisses her hair._] God bless and preserve Hedda Tesman—for George’s sake.
HEDDA.
_[Gently freeing herself._] Oh—! Let me go.
MISS TESMAN.
[_In quiet emotion._] I shall not let a day pass without coming to see you.
TESMAN.
No you won’t, will you, Auntie? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Good-bye—good-bye!
[_She goes out by the hall door. TESMAN accompanies her. The door remains half open. TESMAN can be heard repeating his message to Aunt Rina and his thanks for the slippers._
[_In the meantime, HEDDA walks about the room, raising her arms and clenching her hands as if in desperation. Then she flings back the curtains from the glass door, and stands there looking out._
[_Presently TESMAN returns and closes the door behind him._
TESMAN.
[_Picks up the slippers from the floor._] What are you looking at, Hedda?
HEDDA.
[_Once more calm and mistress of herself._] I am only looking at the leaves. They are so yellow—so withered.
TESMAN.
[_Wraps up the slippers and lays them on the table._] Well you see, we are well into September now.
HEDDA.
[_Again restless._] Yes, to think of it!—Already in—in September.
TESMAN.
Don’t you think Aunt Julia’s manner was strange, dear? Almost solemn? Can you imagine what was the matter with her? Eh?
HEDDA.
I scarcely know her, you see. Is she not often like that?
TESMAN.
No, not as she was to-day.
HEDDA.
[_Leaving the glass door._] Do you think she was annoyed about the bonnet?
TESMAN.
Oh, scarcely at all. Perhaps a little, just at the moment——
HEDDA.
But what an idea, to pitch her bonnet about in the drawing-room! No one does that sort of thing.
TESMAN.
Well you may be sure Aunt Julia won’t do it again.
HEDDA.
In any case, I shall manage to make my peace with her.
TESMAN.
Yes, my dear, good Hedda, if you only would.
HEDDA.
When you call this afternoon, you might invite her to spend the evening here.
TESMAN.
Yes, that I will. And there’s one thing more you could do that would delight her heart.
HEDDA.
What is it?
TESMAN.
If you could only prevail on yourself to say _du_[15] to her. For my sake, Hedda? Eh?
HEDDA.
No no, Tesman—you really mustn’t ask that of me. I have told you so already. I shall try to call her “Aunt”; and you must be satisfied with that.
TESMAN.
Well well. Only I think now that you belong to the family, you——
HEDDA.
H’m—I can’t in the least see why——
[_She goes up towards the middle doorway._
TESMAN.
[_After a pause._] Is there anything the matter with you, Hedda? Eh?
HEDDA.