Part 3

HEDVIG. Yes, for it’s in such great curls.

HJALMAR. Waves!

HEDVIG (_a little after, pulling his jacket_). Father!

HJALMAR. Well, what is it?

HEDVIG. Oh, you know well enough what it is.

HJALMAR. No, I really don’t.

HEDVIG (_laughing and pouting_). Oh, you do, father. Now you mustn’t tease me any more.

HJALMAR. But what is it?

HEDVIG (_shaking him_). Oh, nonsense. Now out with it, father. You know all the good things you promised me.

HJALMAR. Ah! and to think I should have forgotten it!

HEDVIG. No, you only want to tease me, father! Oh, it’s too bad of you. Where’ve you put them?

HJALMAR. Well, I’ve not quite forgotten. But wait a moment! I’ve got something else for you, Hedvig. (_Goes and searches in the pockets of his coat._)

HEDVIG (_jumping and clapping her hands_). Oh, mother, mother!

GINA. You see, if you’ll only wait----

HJALMAR (_with a paper_). See, here we have it.

HEDVIG. That? Why, that’s only a piece of paper.

HJALMAR. That’s the bill of fare; the whole bill of fare. Here is written “Menu;” that means bill of fare.

HEDVIG. Haven’t you got anything else?

HJALMAR. I’ve forgotten the rest, I tell you. But you may take my word for it, these dainties are not very satisfying. Sit down there by the table and read out the list, and I’ll describe the dishes to you. See here, Hedvig.

HEDVIG (_choking back her tears_). Thanks. (_She sits down, but does not read._ GINA _makes signs to her_; HJALMAR _notices it_.)

HJALMAR (_walking up and down_). It is really most extraordinary what things the bread-winner of a family is expected to remember, and if he forgets the least of them--he’s sure to be treated to black looks. Well, one gets used to that, too. (_Stops near the stove, by the old man._) Have you peeped in there this evening, father?

EKDAL. Yes, you may be sure I did. She’s got into the basket.

HJALMAR. No! _She’s_ gone into the basket? She’s beginning to get used to it.

EKDAL. Yes, that’s what I always said she would. But now, you see, there are a few little things----

HJALMAR. Some improvements--yes.

EKDAL. But they must be made, you know.

HJALMAR. Yes, let’s have a little chat about the improvements, father. Come here, let’s sit on the sofa.

EKDAL. All right. H’m--think I’ll fill my pipe first--and must clean it. H’m! (_He goes into his room._)

GINA (_smiling at_ HJALMAR). Clean his pipe, too!

HJALMAR. Ah, well! Gina, let him alone. My poor shipwrecked father! Yes--the improvements--we’d best set about them to-morrow.

GINA. You’ll not have any time to-morrow, Ekdal----

HEDVIG (_interrupting_). Oh, yes, he will, mother.

GINA. Remember those copies that have to be touched up; they’ve sent here now so many times for them.

HJALMAR. Really? So now it’s the copies again! They’ll be ready soon enough. Have there been any fresh orders?

GINA. No, worse luck, to-morrow I’ve nothing but the two portraits you know of.

HJALMAR. Nothing else? Oh, no, when one makes no effort----

GINA. But what am I to do? I put in all the advertisements I can afford, I’m sure.

HJALMAR. Yes, advertisements, advertisements. You see how much good they are. And so, I suppose, no one’s been after this room, either?

GINA. No, not yet.

HJALMAR. That was to be expected. When one makes no effort to---- One really must pull oneself together, Gina.

HEDVIG (_going up to him_). Shall I fetch your flute, father?

HJALMAR. No, no flute. I ask no pleasures here on earth. (_Walking up and down._) Yes, yes, I’ll work hard to-morrow, there shall be no lack of that. I’ll work as long as my strength holds out----

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

HEDVIG. Father, shall I bring in a bottle of beer?

HJALMAR. No, nothing at all. I want nothing for myself. (_Standing still._) Beer?--was it beer you said?

HEDVIG (_brightly_). Yes, father; lovely, fresh beer.

HJALMAR. Well, if you _will_ insist, you may as well bring in a bottle.

GINA. Yes, do, and then we’ll make ourselves comfortable.

HEDVIG _runs towards the kitchen door_.

HJALMAR (_by the stove; stops her, looks at her, takes her head, and presses her to him_). Hedvig! Hedvig!

HEDVIG (_gladly, with tears in her eyes_). Ah! Dear father!

HJALMAR. No, do not call me that! There have I been sitting at the rich man’s table and taking thought for myself--there have I sat and reveled at the groaning board. And yet I could not----

GINA (_sitting by the table_). Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Ekdal.

HJALMAR. Yes! But you must not be too hard upon me. You know that I am very fond of you, all the same.

HEDVIG (_embracing him_). And we are so immensely fond of you!

HJALMAR. And if now and again I should be unreasonable, bear in mind I am a man overwhelmed by a host of worries. No! (_Drying his eyes._) No beer at such a moment! Give me the flute.

HEDVIG _runs to the book case and fetches it_.

HJALMAR. Thanks. Now then. With the flute in my hand, and you two about me--ah!

HEDVIG (_sits down at the table near_ GINA; HJALMAR _walks up and down. Then he begins playing energetically a Bohemian folk-dance, but in slow, elegiac time, and with sentimental expression. He stops playing suddenly, holds out his left hand to_ GINA, _and says in a moved tone_). It may be poor and lowly under this roof, Gina, but it is home. But I tell you this--it is good to be here.

_He begins playing again; presently a knock is heard at the entrance-door._

GINA (_rising_). Hush, Ekdal!--I think someone’s there.

HJALMAR (_putting the flute into the book case_). There again!

GINA _goes and opens the door_.

GREGERS (_outside in the passage_). Excuse me----

GINA (_stepping back a little_). Oh!

GREGERS. Does Mr. Ekdal, the photographer, live here?----

GINA. Yes, he does.

HJALMAR (_going to the door_). Gregers! Is it you after all? Well, come in.

GREGERS (_coming in_). Yes, I told you I’d look you up.

HJALMAR. But to-night?--Have you left the party?

GREGERS. Both the party and my father’s house. Good evening, Mrs. Ekdal. I don’t know if you recognize me?

GINA. Oh, yes! Young Mr. Werle is not very difficult to recognize.

GREGERS. No--I am like my mother, and, no doubt, you remember her.

HJALMAR. And you have left the house, you say----

GREGERS. Yes, I’ve moved into a hotel.

HJALMAR. Really! Well, as you’ve come, take off your things and sit down.

GREGERS. Thanks. (_He takes off his overcoat. He has changed into a simple gray suit of country make._)

HJALMAR. Here, on the sofa. Make yourself at home.

GREGERS _sits on the sofa_, HJALMAR _on a chair by the table_.

GREGERS (_looking round_). So this is your place, Hjalmar. This is where you live.

HJALMAR. This is the studio, as you can see----

GINA. But it’s roomy; and so we prefer sitting here.

HJALMAR. We used to have better rooms, but this flat has one great advantage; there are such capital outer rooms.

GINA. And then we’ve a room on the other side of the passage that we can let.

GREGERS (_to_ HJALMAR). Really--then you’ve lodgers, too.

HJALMAR. No, not yet. That’s not so easy, you see; one has to keep on the look out. (_To_ HEDVIG.) But how about that beer, Hedvig.

HEDVIG _nods and goes into the kitchen_.

GREGERS. So _that_ is your daughter?

HJALMAR. Yes, that’s Hedvig.

GREGERS. And she is your only child?

HJALMAR. She is the only one, yes. She is our greatest joy on earth, and (_in a lower tone_), she is also our greatest sorrow, Gregers.

GREGERS. What’s that you say?

HJALMAR. Yes; for there is imminent danger of her losing her sight.

GREGERS. Become blind!

HJALMAR. Yes. At present there are only the merest symptoms, and it may be a long while yet. But the doctor has warned us. It must inevitably come.

GREGERS. That is a terrible misfortune! How did she get it?----

HJALMAR (_sighing_). It is probably hereditary.

GREGERS (_starting_). Hereditary?

GINA. Ekdal’s mother had weak eyes, too.

HJALMAR. Yes, so father says; I can’t remember her.

GREGERS. Poor child! And how does she take it?

HJALMAR. Ah! you may imagine, we’ve not had the heart to tell her anything. She has no idea of any danger. Joyous and free from care, and chirping like a little bird flying away into life’s everlasting night. (_Overcome._) Ah! that is such a crushing blow for me, Gregers.

HEDVIG _brings in a tray with beer and glasses, which she places on the table_.

HJALMAR (_stroking her head_). Thanks, thanks, Hedvig. (HEDVIG _throws her arms round his neck and whispers into his ear_.) No. No bread and butter just now. (_Looks straight in front of him._) Yes, perhaps Gregers will have a piece.

GREGERS (_with a gesture of refusal_). No, no, thank you.

HJALMAR (_still mournful_). Well, you can bring in a little, all the same. If you’ve a crust that’d be nice. And mind you, butter it well.

HEDVIG _nods brightly, and goes into the kitchen again_.

GREGERS (_who has followed her with his eyes_). She looks bright and well enough though, it seems to me.

GINA. Yes, thank God, there’s nothing else the matter with her.

GREGERS. No doubt she will grow like you in time, Mrs. Ekdal. How old may she be now?

GINA. Hedvig is exactly fourteen; it’s her birthday the day after to-morrow.

GREGERS. She’s pretty tall for her age.

GINA. Yes, she has shot up so in the last year.

GREGERS. It is by these young folks that we best see how old we are ourselves. How long ago is it that you were married?

GINA. Why, we were married in--yes--nearly fifteen years ago.

GREGERS. No, really! Is it so long!

GINA (_becoming attentive, looking at him_). Yes, it is exactly.

HJALMAR. Yes, of course it is. Fifteen years in a few months. (_In a changed tone._) Those must have been long years for you up at the Works, Gregers.

GREGERS. They seemed so while I lived them--now, I hardly know how the time went.

OLD EKDAL _enters from his room, without his pipe, but wearing his old lieutenant’s cap; he walks somewhat unsteadily_.

EKDAL. I say, Hjalmar, now we can sit down and chat about that--h’m. Whatever was it?

HJALMAR (_going up to him_). Father, here’s somebody. Gregers Werle--I don’t know if you can remember him.

EKDAL (_looking at_ GREGERS, _who has risen_). Werle? Is that the son, eh?--What does he want with me?

HJALMAR. Nothing; he has come to see me.

EKDAL. Then nothing’s up?

HJALMAR. No, certainly not.

EKDAL (_swinging his arms_). Not that _I_ care, you know, I’m not afraid, but----

GREGERS (_going up to him_). I only wanted to bring you a greeting from the old hunting-grounds, Lieutenant Ekdal.

EKDAL. Hunting-grounds?

GREGERS. Yes, up there round about the Hojdal Works.

EKDAL. Oh? up there? I knew them well once on a time.

GREGERS. At that time you were a great sportsman.

EKDAL. Was so, yes. That may be. You’re looking at my uniform-cap. I don’t need to get leave to wear it at home. So long as I don’t go out into the streets in it----

HEDVIG _brings in a plate of bread and butter, which she puts on the table_.

HJALMAR. Come and sit down, father, and have a glass of beer. Come along, Gregers.

EKDAL _mutters something, and stumbles to the sofa_. GREGERS _sits down on the chair nearest him_. HJALMAR _on the other side of_ GREGERS. GINA _sits a little way from the table sewing_. HEDVIG _stands by her father_.

GREGERS. Can you remember, Lieutenant Ekdal, when Hjalmar and I used to go up to visit you in the summer and at Christmas?

EKDAL. Did you? No, no, no--I don’t remember that. But I may say I’ve been a great sportsman, that I have. I’ve shot bears too. Shot nine of them.

GREGERS (_looking sympathizingly at him_). And now you never get any hunting.

EKDAL. Oh! Can’t say that, my lad. Get some hunting now and again: not _that_ sort, of course. For the forest, you see--the forest, the forest!---- (_Drinking._) Is the forest up there fine now?

GREGERS. Not so fine as in your time. It’s been thinned out considerably.

EKDAL. Thinned out. (_In a lower tone and anxiously._) That’s a dangerous game. It has consequences. The forest avenges itself.

HJALMAR (_filling his glass_). Come, father, have a little more.

GREGERS. How can a man like you--such a man for an open-air life, live in the midst of a choking town, shut up between these four walls?

EKDAL (_smiles slightly and glances at_ HJALMAR). Oh! it’s not so bad here. Not so bad.

GREGERS. But all that had become part of you? The fresh, blowing breezes, the free life in the woods and the plains, among the beasts and birds?

EKDAL (_smiling_). Hjalmar, shall we show it him?

HJALMAR (_quickly and somewhat embarrassed_). Oh, no, no, father; not this evening.

GREGERS. What does he want to show me?

HJALMAR. Oh! it’s only something--you can see it another time.

GREGERS (_continuing to the old man_). So I was thinking, Lieutenant Ekdal, that you should come along with me up to the Works, for I shall certainly be leaving again shortly. You could easily get some copying to do there too. And here there’s absolutely nothing to make you comfortable and cheer you.

EKDAL (_staring at him in astonishment_). I’ve absolutely nothing.

GREGERS. Yes, you have Hjalmar; but he has his own family. And a man like you who has always felt drawn to all that is free and wild----

EKDAL (_striking the table_). Hjalmar, now he _shall_ see it!

HJALMAR. No, father, is it worth while now? Why, it’s dark----

EKDAL. Nonsense; the moon shining. (_Rising._) He _shall_ see it, I say. Let me pass. Come and help me, Hjalmar.

HEDVIG. Oh, yes; do, father.

HJALMAR (_rising_). All right then.

GREGERS (_to_ GINA). What is it?

GINA. Oh! You really mustn’t fancy it’s anything very wonderful.

EKDAL _and_ HJALMAR _have gone up the stage. Each is pushing aside one-half of the sliding door_; HEDVIG _helps the old man_; GREGERS _remains standing by the sofa_; GINA _goes on sewing, unmoved. Through the opening of the door is seen a large, irregular loft, with odd nooks and corners, and a few stove-pipes here and there. There are skylights, through which bright moonlight falls upon certain parts of the great room; others are in darkness._

EKDAL (_to_ GREGERS). You must come quite close, please.

GREGERS (_going over to him_). What, is it really?

EKDAL. You can see--h’m!

HJALMAR (_rather embarrassed_). This belongs to father, you understand.

GREGERS (_by the door, looking into the loft_). Why, you keep fowls, Lieutenant Ekdal!

EKDAL. Should think we did keep fowls. They’re gone to roost now. But you should see the fowls by daylight, you should!

HEDVIG. And then there’s a----

EKDAL. Sh!--Sh!--don’t say anything yet.

GREGERS. And you’ve pigeons, too, I see.

EKDAL. Oh, yes! May be we’ve got pigeons, too! The pigeon-houses are up there under the eaves; for you know pigeons always like to roost high.

HJALMAR. But these are not all common pigeons.

EKDAL. Common! No, should think not! We’ve got tumblers, and we’ve a few pouters, too. But come here! Can you see those hutches out there by the wall?----

GREGERS. Yes. But what do you use them for?

EKDAL. The rabbits go in there in the night, my lad.

GREGERS. Why, you’ve rabbits, too, then?

EKDAL. Yes. Deuce take it, you might know we should have rabbits! He wants to know if we’ve got rabbits, Hjalmar!--H’m! But now the real thing’s coming, you know. Now then! Out of the way, Hedvig. Come and stand here; that’s it--and look down there. Don’t you see anything there in the basket filled with straw?

GREGERS. Yes. I see there’s a bird lying in the basket.

EKDAL. H’m! “A bird”----

GREGERS. Isn’t it a duck?

EKDAL (_hurt_). Yes, of course, it’s a duck.

HJALMAR. But what _sort_ of a duck, do you think----?

HEDVIG. It’s not just a simple duck----

EKDAL. Hush!

GREGERS. And it’s not a Turkish duck, either.

EKDAL. No, Mr.--Werle; it’s not a Turkish duck; for it’s a wild duck.

GREGERS. No, is it really? A wild duck?

EKDAL. Yes, that it is. The “bird,” as you called it--is a wild duck. That’s our wild duck, my lad.

HEDVIG. _My_ wild duck. For she belongs to me.

GREGERS. And it can live up here in this loft? And thrive here?

EKDAL. Of course, you understand, she’s got a trough full of water to splash about in.

HJALMAR. Fresh water every day.

GINA (_turning to_ HJALMAR). But, dear Ekdal, it’s getting awfully cold here.

EKDAL. H’m! Let’s shut it up then. Besides it’s not good to disturb their night’s rest. Give a hand, Hedvig.

HJALMAR _and_ HEDVIG _push the doors of the loft together_.

EKDAL. Another time you can see her properly. (_Sitting down in the arm-chair by the stove._) Ah! wild ducks are very wonderful creatures, take my word for it.

GREGERS. But how did you catch it, Lieutenant Ekdal?

EKDAL. Didn’t catch her, I didn’t. There’s a certain man in the town here, whom we’ve to thank for her.

GREGERS (_starting slightly_). Surely the man’s not my father?

EKDAL. Yes, he is though. Just your father. H’m!

HJALMAR. It is funny you should have guessed that, Gregers.

GREGERS. Why you were telling me that you were indebted to my father for all sorts of things, and so I thought that----

GINA. But we’ve not had the duck from Mr. Werle himself.

EKDAL. It’s Haaken Werle we’ve to thank for her, all the same, Gina. (_To_ GREGERS.) He was out in his boat, you know, and he shot her. But your father’s sight is so bad now. H’m; she was only wounded.

GREGERS. I see. She got a few shots in her body.

HJALMAR. Yes, she did--two or three shots.

HEDVIG. She was hit under the wing, and so she could not fly away.

GREGERS. And then, I suppose, she dived to the bottom?

EKDAL (_sleepily, with thick utterance_). Know all about that. Always so with wild ducks. Made for the bottom--as far as they can get, my lad--get caught in the tangle and the sea-weed--and all the damned stuff that’s down below there. And so they never come to the surface again.

GREGERS. But, Lieutenant Ekdal, _your_ wild duck came to the surface.

EKDAL. He’d got a most remarkably clever dog, had your father. And the dog--dived after the duck and brought her up again.

GREGERS (_turning to_ HJALMAR). And so you found it here?

HJALMAR. Not directly; first it was taken to your father’s; but the wild thing didn’t thrive there; so Pettersen was ordered to kill it----

EKDAL (_half asleep_). H’m--yes, Pettersen--idiot----

HJALMAR (_speaking in a lower tone_). So that was how we got her, you see, for father knows Pettersen a little, and when he heard about the wild duck, he managed to get it handed over to him.

GREGERS. And now it thrives so well up here in the loft.

HJALMAR. Yes, wonderfully well. She’s getting fat. Well, she’s been in there so long now she’s forgotten the old wild life; and that’s the main thing.

GREGERS. You are right there, Hjalmar. Only never let her see the sky or the sea---- But I mustn’t stay any longer; for I think your father’s asleep.

HJALMAR. Oh! don’t mind him----

GREGERS. But--by the way--you said you had a room to let--a spare room?

HJALMAR. Certainly--what then? Do you know anyone----

GREGERS. Could I have the room?

HJALMAR. You?

GINA. No, but you, Mr. Werle----

GREGERS. Can I have the room? Then I’ll move in early to-morrow.

HJALMAR. Yes, with the greatest pleasure----

GINA. But, Mr. Werle, it’s not at all the sort of room for you.

HJALMAR. But, Gina, how can you say that?

GINA. Yes, for the room’s neither large nor light, and----

GREGERS. That doesn’t matter, Mrs. Ekdal.

HJALMAR. I think it’s a very nice room, and not so badly furnished, either.

GINA. But think of those two who live underneath us.

GREGERS. What two are they?

GINA. Oh! one of them’s been a tutor.

HJALMAR. That’s Licentiate Molvik.

GINA. And then there’s a doctor calling Relling.

GREGERS. Relling? I used to know him a little. He practiced for a time up at the Works.

GINA. They’re a pair of dissipated good-for-nothings. They’re often out on the loose of an evening, and they come home very late at night, and then they’re not always as----

GREGERS. One soon gets used to that. I hope I shall be like the wild duck.

GINA. H’m, I think you’d better sleep on it first, all the same.

GREGERS. You seem extremely unwilling to have me in the house, Mrs. Ekdal.

GINA. Lord, no! How can you think that?

HJALMAR. Yes, it’s really very extraordinary of you.

GINA (_to_ GREGERS). But tell me, are you thinking of stopping in town then for the present?

GREGERS (_putting on his overcoat_). Yes, now I think of stopping here.

HJALMAR. But not at home with your father? What do you mean to do?

GREGERS. Ah! If only I knew _that_ I should not be so badly off. But when one has the misfortune to be called Gregers--“Gregers”--and then “Werle” after it; have you ever heard anything so hideous?

HJALMAR. Oh! I don’t think that so bad.

GREGERS. Huh! Pish! I should feel inclined to spit at a fellow with such a name. But when one has the misfortune to be Gregers--Werle here on earth, as I have----

HJALMAR (_laughing_). Ha--ha! If you weren’t Gregers Werle, what else would you be?

GREGERS. If I had my choice, I should prefer being a clever dog.

GINA. A dog!

HEDVIG (_involuntarily_). Oh! not that!

GREGERS. Yes, a real uncommonly clever dog; such a one as can dive under after wild ducks, when they go to the bottom, and get fast in all the tangle and sea-weeds down in the mud below.

HJALMAR. I’ll tell you what, Gregers--I don’t understand a word of all this.

GREGERS. Oh, no! It doesn’t mean anything in particular. Early to-morrow, then, I’ll move in. (_To_ GINA.) Don’t you trouble about me; I do everything for myself. (_To_ HJALMAR.) We’ll talk over the rest to-morrow. Good night, Mrs. Ekdal. (_Nodding to_ HEDVIG.) Good night!

GINA. Good night, Mr. Werle.

HEDVIG. Good night.

HJALMAR (_who has lighted a candle_). Wait a moment, I must light you down, for it’s very dark on the stairs.

GREGERS _and_ HJALMAR _go out together through the entrance-door_.

GINA (_looking straight in front of her, with her work on her lap_). Wasn’t that strange talk about his wanting to be a dog?

HEDVIG. I’ll tell you what, mother--I think he meant something else by that.

GINA. What could _that_ be?

HEDVIG. Why, I don’t know, but it was just as if he meant something different from what he was saying--all the time.

GINA. Do you think so? It was certainly strange.

HJALMAR (_returning_). The lamp was still alight. (_Puts out the light and puts it down_.) Ah, at last one can get a mouthful to eat. (_Begins eating the bread and butter._) Now, you see, Gina, if one only makes a little effort----

GINA. How, effort?

HJALMAR. Yes, for it’s a blessing after all we’ve at last let that room for a time. And only think--to a fellow like Gregers--a dear, old friend.

GINA. I hardly know what to say about it, I don’t.

HEDVIG. Oh, mother, you’ll see it’ll be such fun.

HJALMAR. You _are_ strange. First you were so anxious to let it, and now you don’t like it.