Part 4

GINA. Yes, Ekdal; if it had only been to some one else, but what do you think Mr. Werle will say?

HJALMAR. Old Werle? It’s no business of his.

GINA. But you may be sure there’s something up between them again, as the young one’s moving out of the house. You know well enough how things are between those two.

HJALMAR. Yes, that may be, but----

GINA. And now, perhaps, Mr. Werle’ll think you’re at the bottom of it----

HJALMAR. Let him think so as long as he likes! Mr. Werle has done an immense deal for me. Good heavens! I don’t deny it--but I can’t on that account remain his dependent all my life.

GINA. But, dear Ekdal, perhaps grandfather may have to suffer for it; he may lose his poor little earnings that he gets through Graberg.

HJALMAR. I’m almost inclined to say: so much the better! Is it not sufficiently humiliating for a man like me to see his grey-haired father going about as an outcast? But the fullness of time is coming now, I think. (_He takes another piece of bread and butter._) As surely as I have a mission in life, so surely I will not shrink from it!

HEDVIG. Oh! no, father, don’t!

GINA. Hush! Don’t wake him!

HJALMAR (_in a lower tone_). I will not shrink from it, I tell you. The day will yet come, when---- And that’s why it’s a good thing we’ve let the room; for that makes me more independent. And a man must be _that_ when he has a mission in life. (_Turning towards the arm-chair, with emotion._) My poor white-haired old father! Lean on your Hjalmar. He has broad shoulders--strong shoulders, at any rate. You will awaken one day and---- (_To_ GINA.) Perhaps, you don’t believe it?

GINA (_rising_). Of course, I do--but in the meantime let’s get him to bed.

HJALMAR. Yes, let us do so.

_They take up the old man carefully._

ACT III.

[HJALMAR EKDAL’S _studio. It is morning; daylight streams in through the great panes of glass in the slanting roof; the curtain is drawn back._]

[HJALMAR _is sitting at the table busy retouching a photograph; several other portraits are lying in front of him. After a little while_ GINA _comes in from the entrance-door in her hat and cloak; she has a covered basket on her arm_.]

HJALMAR. Are you back again, Gina?

GINA. Ah, yes! One must look sharp.

_Puts the basket on a chair, and takes off her things._

HJALMAR. Did you look in at Gregers’?

GINA. Yes, I did. It’s in a lovely state; he’s managed to make a mess of it as soon as ever he got in.

HJALMAR. How so?

GINA. Why he wanted to do everything himself, he said. And so he wanted to light the stove too; and then he screwed down the register, so that the whole room was full of smoke. Uh! It stank like----

HJALMAR. Well, I never!

GINA. But the best’s to come; for then he wanted to put out the fire, and so he must needs empty the whole of his water-jug into the stove, so that the room’s like a pig-stye.

HJALMAR. That’s a nuisance.

GINA. I’ve sent the porter’s wife there now, to clean up after him, the pig. But the place’ll not be fit to be in till this afternoon.

HJALMAR. Where’s he gone then in the meantime?

GINA. He was going out, he said.

HJALMAR. I looked in a moment, too--after you’d gone out.

GINA. So I heard. Why, _you’ve_ asked him to lunch.

HJALMAR. Only to a little simple bit of early lunch, you know. It’s his first day--and we couldn’t very well avoid it. You’ve got something in the house, I suppose.

GINA. I’ll try and get something or other.

HJALMAR. But don’t get too little. For I fancy Relling and Molvik are coming up too. I happened to meet Relling on the stairs, you see, and so I couldn’t but----

GINA. Oh! Are we to have those two as well?

HJALMAR. Good Lord--two more or less’ll make no difference.

EKDAL (_opening his door and looking in_). I say, Hjalmar---- (_noticing_ GINA.) Oh! I see!

GINA. Do you want anything, grandfather?

EKDAL. Oh, no! It’s all right. H’m! (_He goes in again._)

GINA (_taking up the basket_). Take care he doesn’t get out.

HJALMAR. Yes, yes, I’ll see to it--I say, Gina, a little bit of herring-salad’d be very nice--for Relling and Molvik were out on the spree again last night.

GINA. If only they don’t come up too soon for me I----

HJALMAR. Oh! they won’t; take your own time.

GINA. Very good, and you can go on doing a little work meantime.

HJALMAR. Why, I’m sitting here working! Why, I’m working as hard as ever I can!

GINA. Then you’ll have it off your hands, don’t you see.

_She goes into the kitchen with the basket._ HJALMAR _sits a few minutes retouching the photograph; he does it lazily and with disrelish_.

EKDAL (_peeps in looking around the studio, and says in a whisper_). Are you busy?

HJALMAR. Yes, I’m sitting here slaving over these portraits.

EKDAL. All right--God forbid--if you’re so busy, I’ll--h’m----

_He goes in again; he leaves the door open._

HJALMAR (_goes on for a while in silence; then he puts down the brush and goes to the door_). Are you busy, father?

EKDAL (_mutters from within_). If you’re busy, I’m busy too. H’m!

HJALMAR. All right.

_He returns to his work again._

EKDAL (_after a little while, coming to the door again_). H’m! You see, Hjalmar, I’m not so very busy after all.

HJALMAR. I thought you were sitting there writing.

EKDAL. Deuce take it. Can’t Graberg wait a day or two? It’s not a matter of life and death, I should say.

HJALMAR. No, and you’re not a slave either.

EKDAL. And then what has to be done in there?

HJALMAR. Yes, exactly. Perhaps you’d like to go in? Shall I open the door for you?

EKDAL. That wouldn’t be amiss.

HJALMAR (_rising_). For then we’d have _that_ off our hands.

EKDAL. Exactly, it must be ready by to-morrow early. For it _is_ to-morrow---- H’m?

HJALMAR. Of course, it’s to-morrow.

HJALMAR _and_ EKDAL _push one-half of the door aside. The morning sun is shining in through the sky-lights; many pigeons are flying hither and thither, others are perched cooing on rafters; the hens cackle now and again, at the further end of the loft._

HJALMAR. Now then, get in, father.

EKDAL (_going in_). Aren’t you coming?

HJALMAR. Yes, d’you know--I almost think--(_seeing_ GINA _by the kitchen door_). I?--no, no, I’ve no time, I must work---- This is how the mechanism works----

_He pulls a string; a curtain falls from within, the lower part of which consists of an old sail, and the rest, the upper part of an out-spread fishing net. The floor of the loft is thus no longer visible._

HJALMAR (_going to the table_). That’s it; now, I suppose, I shall have a minute’s peace.

GINA. Is he in there on the rampage again?

HJALMAR. Wasn’t it better than if he’d gone down to Mrs. Ericksen’s? (_Sitting down._) Do you want anything? You said----

GINA. I only wanted to ask if you thought we could lay the cloth here?

HJALMAR. Yes, I suppose no one is coming so early----

GINA. No, I don’t expect anyone, except the two sweethearts, who want to be taken together.

HJALMAR. Why the devil couldn’t they be taken together some other day?

GINA. But, dear Ekdal, I arranged for them to come this afternoon, when you’re having your sleep.

HJALMAR. Oh, that’s all right. Yes, then we’ll lunch here.

GINA. Very well! But there’s no need to hurry to lay the cloth yet; you can use the table awhile yet.

HJALMAR. I should think you could see I am sitting here using the table all I can!

GINA. Then you’ll be free later, don’t you see.

_She goes into the kitchen again. A short pause._

EKDAL (_at the door of loft, the net behind_). Hjalmar!

HJALMAR. Well?

EKDAL. Afraid we shall have to move the water-trough, after all.

HJALMAR. Why, that’s what I’ve said all along.

EKDAL. H’m--h’m--h’m!

_Goes away from the door again._

HJALMAR (_goes on working for a little while, then looks at the loft and half rises_. HEDVIG _comes in from the kitchen. Hurriedly sitting down again_). What do you want?

HEDVIG. I only wanted to come in to you, father.

HJALMAR (_after a short pause_). It seems to me you’ve come to poke your nose into things. Are you to keep watch, perhaps?

HEDVIG. Oh, no! not at all!

HJALMAR. What’s mother doing in there now?

HEDVIG. Oh! Mother’s in the thick of the herring-salad. (_She goes up to the table._) Isn’t there any little thing I could help you with, father?

HJALMAR. Oh, no. It’s best I should do it all alone--as long as my strength holds out. There’s no need, Hedvig; if only your father keeps his health--then----

HEDVIG. Oh no, father; you mustn’t say such horrid things----

_She walks about a little while, stands still by the open door, and looks into the loft._

HJALMAR. I say, what’s he doing now?

HEDVIG. It’s surely a new path up to the water-trough.

HJALMAR. He’ll never be able to manage that alone! And yet I’m condemned to sit here----

HEDVIG (_going up to him_). Give me the brush, father; I can do it.

HJALMAR. Oh, nonsense. You’d only spoil your eyes with it.

HEDVIG. Not a bit! Come, give me the brush!

HJALMAR (_rising_). Well, yes, it won’t take more than a minute or two.

HEDVIG. Tut! What does it matter? (_Taking the brush._) That’s it. (_Sitting down._) And I’ve got one here to copy from.

HJALMAR. But don’t spoil your eyes! Do you hear--_I_ will not be answerable; you must take the responsibility upon yourself--I tell you that.

HEDVIG (_retouching_). All right, I don’t mind.

HJALMAR. You’re very quick at it, Hedvig. Only a few minutes, you understand.

_He squeezes past the curtain in the loft._ HEDVIG _sits working_. HJALMAR _and_ EKDAL _are heard discussing within_.

HJALMAR (_coming from behind the net_). Hedvig, just hand me the pincers that are lying on the shelf. And the chisel (_turning back_). Now you’ll see father. But first let me show you what I mean.

HEDVIG _takes out the tools asked for from the book-case and hands them in to him_.

HJALMAR. That’s it. Thanks! I say, it was a good thing I came.

_He goes away from the opening of the door; they are heard carpentering and talking within._ HEDVIG _remains standing and looks at them. After a pause there is a knock at the entrance-door; she takes no notice of it._

GREGERS (_bareheaded and without a top coat; he enters and stands a little while by the door_). H’m!

HEDVIG (_turning and going up to him_). Good morning. Won’t you come in?

GREGERS. Thank you (_looks towards the loft_). You seem to have workingmen in the house?

HEDVIG. No, it’s only father and grandfather. I’ll go and tell them.

GREGERS. No, no, don’t do that, I’d rather wait a little while.

_He sits down on the sofa._

HEDVIG. It’s so untidy here.

_She is about to clear away the photographs._

GREGERS. Oh! don’t trouble. Are they portraits that have to be finished?

HEDVIG. Yes, they are; I was going to help father with them.

GREGERS. Don’t let me prevent you.

HEDVIG. Oh, no.

_She moves the things towards her and sits down to work_; GREGERS _watches her for a while in silence_.

GREGERS. Did the wild duck sleep well last night?

HEDVIG. Yes, thank you, I believe so.

GREGERS (_turning to the loft_). It looks quite different in there by daylight from what it did in the moonshine.

HEDVIG. Yes, it does change so. In the morning it looks different from the afternoon and when it rains it looks different than when it’s fine.

GREGERS. Have you noticed it?

HEDVIG. Yes, of course I have.

GREGERS. Do you, too, like being in there with the wild duck?

HEDVIG. Yes, whenever I can manage it I----

GREGERS. But no doubt you’ve not much free time. I suppose you go to school.

HEDVIG. No, not now; father’s afraid of me spoiling my eyes.

GREGERS. Oh! then he reads with you himself.

HEDVIG. Father’s promised to read with me, but he’s not had time for it yet.

GREGERS. But is there no one else to help you a little?

HEDVIG. Yes, there’s Mr. Molvik; but he not always quite--exactly--as----

GREGERS. He drinks then?

HEDVIG. Yes, indeed.

GREGERS. Well, then you’ve plenty of time to do anything. And in there--I suppose that’s a world of itself.

HEDVIG. Quite of itself. And then there are so many wonderful things there.

GREGERS. Really?

HEDVIG. Yes, there are great cupboards full of books, and in some of the books there are pictures.

GREGERS. Aha!

HEDVIG. And then there’s an old bureau, with drawers and flaps, and a big clock with figures that can come out. But the clock doesn’t go now.

GREGERS. So time has stood still--in there with the wild duck.

HEDVIG. Yes. And then there’s an old paint-box and so forth; and then all the books.

GREGERS. And I suppose you like reading the books?

HEDVIG. Oh, yes, when I can get time. But most of them are English, and I don’t understand it. But then I look at the pictures. There’s one great book, called “Harryson’s History of London;” it must be a hundred years old; and there are such an enormous lot of pictures in it. On the front page there’s a picture of Death with an hour-glass, and a young girl. I think that’s horrid. But then there are all the other pictures of churches and palaces, and streets, and great ships sailing on the sea.

GREGERS. But tell me, where did you get all these rare things from?

HEDVIG. Oh! An old sea-captain once lived here, and he brought them home. They used to call him “The Flying Dutchman.” And that’s odd, for he wasn’t a Dutchman at all.

GREGERS. No?

HEDVIG. No. But at last he stopped away altogether, and all his things were left here.

GREGERS. Listen--just tell me--when you sit in there looking at the pictures, don’t you want to get out, and see the real great world itself?

HEDVIG. Oh, no! I want to stop at home always, and help father and mother.

GREGERS. Finishing photographs?

HEDVIG. No, not only that. What I should like best would be to learn to engrave pictures like those in the English books.

GREGERS. H’m! What does your father say to that?

HEDVIG. I don’t think father likes it, for father’s so odd in some things. Fancy, he talks about my learning basket-making and straw-plaiting! But I don’t think _that’s_ anything much.

GREGERS. Oh, no; neither do I.

HEDVIG. But father’s right about _one_ thing, that if I’d learnt to make baskets, I might have made the new basket for the wild duck myself.

GREGERS. So you might; and you were the right person to have made it.

HEDVIG. Yes, for it’s _my_ wild duck.

GREGERS. Yes, so it is.

HEDVIG. Oh, yes, she belongs to _me_. But I lend her to father and grandfather as often as ever they like.

GREGERS. Indeed! What do they do with her?

HEDVIG. Oh! they arrange things for her, and build for her, and all that.

GREGERS. I understand; for I suppose the wild duck’s the most distinguished personage in there.

HEDVIG. Of course she is; for she’s a real wild bird. And it’s a pity about her, too, for she has no one to care for, poor thing.

GREGERS. She hasn’t a family like the rabbits.

HEDVIG. No. The fowls, too, have so many they were chicks with together, but she has been taken right away from all her own. And then it’s all so strange about those wild ducks. No one knows them, and nobody knows where they come from either.

GREGERS. And so she has been to the ocean depths.

HEDVIG (_looks up at him for a moment and smiles_). Why do you say “the ocean depths?”

GREGERS. What else should I say?

HEDVIG. You might have said the “bottom of the sea,” or the “sea bottom.”

GREGERS. Oh! mayn’t I just as well say in the ocean depths?

HEDVIG. Of course, only it sounds so odd to hear people talk of the depths of the ocean.

GREGERS. Why? Tell me why.

HEDVIG. No, I won’t, for it’s so silly----

GREGERS. I’m sure it’s not. Now, tell me why you smiled?

HEDVIG. Well, it’s because when I happen to remember what’s in there--all of a sudden--it always seems to me that the whole room and everything in it should be called the “depths of the ocean”--but that’s so silly.

GREGERS. You must not say that.

HEDVIG. Yes, for it’s only a loft.

GREGERS (_looking steadily at her_). Are you so sure of that?

HEDVIG (_astonished_). That it’s a loft!

GREGERS. Yes. Are you quite certain it is?

HEDVIG _looks at him in silence, open-mouthed_. GINA _comes in with the table-cloth, etc., from the kitchen_.

GREGERS (_rising_). I’ve come in too early, I fear?

GINA. Well, you had to stop somewhere--and it’s almost ready now. Clear the table, Hedvig.

HEDVIG _clears away the things; she and_ GINA _go on laying the table during the following conversation_. GREGERS _sits down in the arm-chair and turns over the leaves of an album_.

GREGERS. I hear you can retouch, Mrs. Ekdal.

GINA (_with a side glance_). Yes, I can.

GREGERS. That was a lucky coincidence.

GINA. How, lucky?

GREGERS. As Ekdal went in for photography, I mean.

HEDVIG. Mother can take photographs, too.

GINA. Oh, yes! I’ve had plenty of opportunity to teach myself _that_ art.

GREGERS. Then, perhaps, it’s you really that attend to the business?

GINA. Yes, when Ekdal hasn’t time himself, I----

GREGERS. No doubt, his time’s a great deal taken up with his old father. I understand that.

GINA. Yes, and then it’s not the thing for a man like Ekdal to take portraits of anybody and everybody.

GREGERS. So I think, but still, since he has taken it up--I----

GINA. Mr. Werle, I’m sure, can understand that Ekdal is not an ordinary photographer.

GREGERS. Of course not---- But---- (_A shot is fired within the loft, he starts._) What’s that?

GINA. Up there they are shooting again!

GREGERS. Do they shoot too?

HEDVIG. They go a-hunting.

GREGERS. What hunt? (_Going towards the door of the loft._) Are you hunting, Hjalmar?

HJALMAR (_behind the net_). Are you here? I didn’t know--I was so taken up---- (_To_ HEDVIG.) And you didn’t tell us----

_Comes into the studio._

GREGERS. Do you go a hunting in the loft?

HJALMAR (_showing a double-barreled pistol_). Oh! only with this.

GINA. Yes, you and grandfather’ll have an accident one of these days with that pigstol.

HJALMAR (_vexed_). I think I’ve told you, that this kind of fire-arm is called a pistol.

GINA. Well, I don’t think that’s any better.

GREGERS. So you too have turned hunter; you too, Hjalmar?

HJALMAR. Only a little rabbit shooting now and again. Chiefly for father’s sake, you understand.

GINA. Men folk are such queer creatures; they must always have something to divide themselves with.

HJALMAR (_angrily_). Yes, yes, of course, we must always have something to divide ourselves with.

GINA. Why that’s exactly what _I_’m saying.

HJALMAR. Well, h’m! (_To_ GREGERS.) And then luckily you see the loft is so situated that no one can hear us shooting. (_Putting the pistol on the top shelf of the case._) Don’t touch the pistol, Hedvig! The one barrel’s loaded, remember.

GREGERS (_looking in through the net_). Oh, you’ve a fowling-piece too, I see.

HJALMAR. That’s father’s old gun. You can’t shoot with it now, for there’s something wrong with the lock. But it’s very amusing to have it, all the same, because we can take it all to pieces, and oil it, and then screw it together again. Of course its mostly father who muddles about with such things.

HEDVIG (_going up to_ GREGERS). Now you can see the wild duck properly.

GREGERS. I was just looking at it. One of her wings drops a little it seems to me.

HJALMAR. Well, that’s not so remarkable; you know she was wounded.

GREGERS. And she seems a little lame in one foot, isn’t she?

HJALMAR. Perhaps just a very little bit.

HEDVIG. Yes, for the dog bit her in that foot.

HJALMAR. But she hasn’t another fault or blemish; and that is really remarkable for a creature that has had a discharge of shot into its body, and has been between a dog’s teeth.

GREGERS (_with a glance at_ HEDVIG). And who has been to the depths of the ocean?

HEDVIG (_smiling_). Yes.

GINA (_setting the table_). Oh! that blessed wild duck! You’ll be falling down and worshipping her next.

HJALMAR. H’m--is the lunch nearly ready?

GINA. Yes, in a moment. Hedvig, you must come and help me now.

GINA _and_ HEDVIG _go out into the kitchen_.

HJALMAR (_in a lower voice_). I don’t think you’d better stand there looking at father; he doesn’t like it. (GREGERS _moves away from the door of the loft_.) And I’d better shut up before the others come in. (_Shooing with his hands._) S’h! s’h! Get away with you! (_He pulls up the curtain and shuts the doors._) These contrivances are my own inventions. It’s really very amusing to have something like that to arrange, and to mend when it gets broken. And besides, it is quite necessary, too, you see, for Gina doesn’t like having the rabbits and fowls in the studio.

GREGERS. No, of course not; and, perhaps, it’s your wife who manages the business?

HJALMAR. I usually leave every-day business to her, for then I can seek refuge in the sitting-room, and think over more important matters.

GREGERS. What sort of matters, Hjalmar?

HJALMAR. I wonder you’ve not asked about _that_ before? Or, perhaps, you’ve not heard about the invention?

GREGERS. Invention? No.

HJALMAR. Really? You’ve not? Ah! well, up there in the woods and wilds----

GREGERS. So you’ve made an invention!

HJALMAR. Well, I’ve not exactly made it yet, but I’m working at it. Surely you can understand that when I decided to sacrifice myself to photography, it wasn’t in order to take likenesses of all sorts of commonplace people.

GREGERS. No, no, that was what your wife was just saying.

HJALMAR. I vowed that if I did devote my powers to this manual labor I would at least raise it so high that it should be both an art and a science. And so I made up my mind to make this remarkable invention.

GREGERS. And in what does the invention consist? What is it to do?

HJALMAR. Why, my dear fellow, you mustn’t ask for such details yet. It takes time, you see. And you mustn’t believe that I am inspired by vanity. Truly, I’m not working for my own sake. Oh, no! It is my life--a mission that I see before me night and day.

GREGERS. What life-mission is that?

HJALMAR. Have you forgotten the old man with the silver hair?

GREGERS. Your poor father; but what can you really do for him?

HJALMAR. I can invoke his self-respect from the dead, by raising up the name of Ekdal to honor and respect again.

GREGERS. So that is your life-mission.

HJALMAR. Yes. I will save the shipwrecked man. For he did suffer shipwreck when the storm burst forth over him. Even while those terrible investigations were going on he was no longer himself. That pistol there--that we used to shoot rabbits with--it has played a part in the tragedy of the house of Ekdal.

GREGERS. The pistol! Indeed?