Part 6

HJALMAR. Not a feather of its head shall be plucked. (_Presses her to him._) You and I, Hedvig,--we two!--Well go now.

HEDVIG _nods to her parents and goes out through the kitchen_.

HJALMAR (_walking about without looking up_). Gina.

GINA. Yes?

HJALMAR. From to-morrow--or let us say, from the day after to-morrow--I should like to keep the household accounts myself.

GINA. Do you want to keep the household accounts too, now?

HJALMAR. Yes, or to keep the accounts of our takings, anyhow.

GINA. Lord help us, _that’s_ soon done.

HJALMAR. I hardly believe that, for you seem to make the money go a remarkably long way. (_Standing still and looking at her._) How do you manage it?

GINA. It is because Hedvig and I require so little.

HJALMAR. It is true that father’s so liberally paid for the copying he does for Mr. Werle?

GINA. I don’t know that it is so liberally. I don’t know the prices for those sort of things.

HJALMAR. Well, about how much does father get? Tell me!

GINA. Well, it varies so. I should say it’s about as much as he costs us, and just a little pocket money besides.

HJALMAR. As much as he costs us! And you never told me this before.

GINA. No, I could not for you were so happy to think that he had everything from you.

HJALMAR. And so father gets this from Mr. Werle!

GINA. Oh yes! Mr. Werle’s got enough and to spare, he has.

HJALMAR. Light the lamp!

GINA (_lighting it_). And then we don’t know that it is Mr. Werle himself; it may be Graberg who----

HJALMAR. Why these subterfuges about Graberg?

GINA. I don’t know, I only thought----

HJALMAR. H’m!

GINA. Well, it wasn’t me that got grandfather the writing. Why it was Bertha when she went to the house.

HJALMAR. Your voice seems to me to be trembling.

GINA (_putting the shade over the lamp_). Does it?

HJALMAR. And your hands are shaking. Aren’t they?

GINA (_firmly_). Speak straight out, Ekdal. What is it he’s gone and said about me?

HJALMAR. Is it true--_can_ it be true that--that there was a kind of relation between you and Mr. Werle, while you were in service at his house?

GINA. That is not true. Not at that time, no. Mr. Werle was after me, certainly. And the wife fancied there was something in it, and then she made such a hocus-pocus and hurly-burly, and she knocked me about and drove me about so--that she did--and so I left her service.

HJALMAR.--Afterward then!

GINA. Yes. Then I went home. And mother--she wasn’t as good as you thought, Ekdal; and she kept on at me about one thing and another--for Mr. Werle was a widower then.

HJALMAR. Well, and then!

GINA. Well, I suppose it’s best you should know it. He didn’t let me alone until he’d had his will of me.

HJALMAR (_clasping his hands_). And this is the mother of my child! How could you conceal such a thing from me!

GINA. Yes, that was wrong of me; I ought certainly to have told you long ago.

HJALMAR. You ought to have told it me at once. Then I should have known what sort of a creature you were.

GINA. But would you have married me all the same?

HJALMAR. How can you imagine such a thing!

GINA. No; that is why I did not dare tell you anything then. For I grew to care so very much for you, as you know. And I couldn’t go and make myself absolutely wretched----

HJALMAR (_walking about_). And this is my Hedvig’s mother. And to know all that I see before my eyes---- (_Kicking a chair._)--All my home--I owe it all to a favored predecessor. Ah! that seducer, Werle!

GINA. Do you repent the fourteen or fifteen years that we have lived together?

HJALMAR (_standing in front of her_). Tell me, have you not repented every day, every hour, for the web of deceit that, like a spider, you have spun around me? Answer me that! Have you not really gone about here remorseful and penitent?

GINA. Ah! dear Ekdal, I’ve had quite enough to think of with the house and all the daily work----

HJALMAR. So you never cast a searching glance at your past?

GINA. No; God knows, I had almost forgotten those old intrigues.

HJALMAR. Ah! This callous, insensible calm! There is something so revolting to me in this! Think--not even remorse.

GINA. But tell me, Ekdal, what would have become of you if you had not found a wife like me?

HJALMAR. Like you----

GINA. Yes, for I’ve always been a little more businesslike and practical than you. Well, of course, that’s natural, for I’m a few years older.

HJALMAR. What would have become of me!

GINA. For you had got into all sorts of bad habits when you first met me; you surely can’t deny that.

HJALMAR. So you call those bad habits! Ah! you don’t understand a man’s feelings, when he is in sorrow and despair--especially a man with my fiery temperament.

GINA. Well, well, that may be. And I’m not regaling about all that either; for you became such a model husband as soon as ever you’d a house and home of your own. And now we’ve made it all so comfortable and cosy here; and Hedvig and I were soon going to spend a little more both for food and clothes.

HJALMAR. In the swamp of deceit, yes.

GINA. Oh! that that abominable fellow should ever have set foot in this house!

HJALMAR. I too thought home good to be in. That was a delusion. Whence now shall I get the needful elasticity of mind to bring the invention into the world of realities. Perhaps it will die with me, and then it will be your past, Gina, that has slain it.

GINA (_almost crying_). No, you mustn’t say any such thing, Ekdal. I, who all my days have only tried to do the best for you!

HJALMAR. I ask--what becomes now of the bread-winner’s dream? When I lay in there on the sofa pondering over the invention, I already had the presentiment that it would devour my whole powers. I felt, too, that the day when I should hold the patent in my hands--that day would be my last. And so it was my dream that you should be left here the well-to-do widow of the departed inventor.

GINA (_drying her tears_). No, you _must_ not speak like that, Ekdal. God forbid I should live to see the day when I was a widow!

HJALMAR. Ah! ’tis all one. Now all this is past anyhow. All!

GREGERS WERLE _opens the entrance-door cautiously and looks in_.

GREGERS. May I come in?

HJALMAR. Yes, do.

GREGERS (_enters with a face beaming with delight and holds out his hands to them_). Now, my dear friends (_looking at them alternately and whispering to_ HJALMAR) so it is not yet over?

HJALMAR (_aloud_). It _is_ over.

GREGERS. It is?

HJALMAR. I have passed through the bitterest moments of my life.

GREGERS. But the most ennobling, too, I should think.

HJALMAR. Well, at any rate it’s off our hands.

GINA. God forgive you, Mr. Werle.

GREGERS (_with the utmost astonishment_). But I don’t understand this.

HJALMAR. What don’t you understand?

GREGERS. So great a reckoning--a reckoning that is to lay the foundation of a new life--the living together in truth and without all deceit----

HJALMAR. Yes, I know that well enough, I know that so well.

GREGERS. I felt so sure that as I entered the door, a light of transfiguration and joy from the faces of both man and wife would shine upon me. And now I see nothing but this dull, dreary, sad----

GINA. Oh, that’s it!

_Takes the shade off the lamp._

GREGERS. You will not understand me, Mrs. Ekdal, well, well, for you I dare say it will take time. But, you yourself, Hjalmar? You must feel a higher consecration after this great reckoning?

HJALMAR. Yes, of course, I do. That is to say, after a fashion.

GREGERS. For surely there is nothing on earth to compare with this, to forgive one who has erred, and lovingly to raise her up to yourself.

HJALMAR. Do you think a man can so easily forget a draught so bitter as that which I have drained.

GREGERS. An _ordinary_ man, no; that may be. But a man like you!

HJALMAR. Yes. Good gracious, I knew that well enough. But you mustn’t drive me, Gregers. It takes time, you see.

GREGERS. You have a great deal of the wild duck in you, Hjalmar.

RELLING _has come in at the entrance door_.

RELLING. Hallo! Is the wild duck to the fore again?

HJALMAR. Mr. Werle senior’s broken-winged victim of the chase, yes.

RELLING. Mr. Werle senior’s? Is it he you are speaking of?

HJALMAR. Of him and of--us others.

RELLING (_in a low tone to_ GREGERS). The devil take you!

HJALMAR. What is that you’re saying?

RELLING. I was wishing heartily that the quack would take himself off home. If he stops here he’s just the man to muddle things up for you both.

GREGERS. Things will not be muddled for these two, Mr. Relling. I will not speak of Hjalmar now. Him we know. But she, too, at the bottom of her heart must surely have some truth, some sincerity.

GINA (_tearfully_). You might have let me pass for what I _was_ then?

RELLING (_to_ GREGERS). Would it be impertinent to inquire, what it is you really want in this house?

GREGERS. I wish to lay the foundation of a true marriage.

RELLING. So you don’t think that the Ekdal’s marriage is good enough as it is?

GREGERS. It is certainly quite as good a marriage as most others, unfortunately. But it has not yet become a _true_ marriage.

HJALMAR. You have never had any sense for the claims of the ideal, Relling.

RELLING. Stuff and nonsense, my good fellow! With your permission, Mr. Werle--how many--approximately--how many true marriages have you seen in your life?

GREGERS. I hardly think I’ve seen a single one.

RELLING. Nor have I.

GREGERS. But I have seen such numberless marriages of the opposite kind. And I have had occasions to see, from personal observation, how such marriages can demoralize two human beings.

HJALMAR. The whole moral foundation of a man may give way beneath his feet; _that_ is the terrible part of it.

RELLING. Well, I’ve never exactly been married, so I’m no judge of such things. But this I do know, the _child_ is part of the marriage too. And you must leave the child at peace.

HJALMAR. Ah! Hedvig! My poor Hedvig!

RELLING. Yes, you must be so good as to keep Hedvig out of all this. You two are grown-up people; you can, in God’s name muddle and meddle with your lives, if you feel inclined. But you must be careful with Hedvig, I tell you, else you may do her a mischief.

HJALMAR. A mischief!

RELLING. Yes--or she may do herself a mischief!--and perhaps others, too.

GINA. But how can _you_ know that, Relling?

HJALMAR. There is no immediate danger to her eyes.

RELLING. This has nothing to do with her eyes. But Hedvig is at an awkward age. She might get into all sorts of mischief.

GINA. Yes, just fancy--she does that already! She’s begun carrying on with the fire out in the kitchen. She calls it playing at house on fire. I’m often frightened she’ll set fire to the house.

RELLING. There you see, I knew it well enough.

GREGERS (_to_ RELLING). But how do you account for this?

RELLING (_sulkily_). She is passing through a constitutional change, man.

HJALMAR. As long as the child has me!--So long as my head is above ground----

_There is a knock at the door._

GINA. Hush, Ekdal! There is some one in the passage. (_Calls out._) Come in!

MRS. SORBY, _in walking costume, comes in_.

MRS. SORBY. Good evening!

GINA (_going up to her_). What, is it you, Bertha!

MRS. SORBY. Yes, indeed it is. I hope I’m not in the way.

HJALMAR. Not in the least; an emissary from _that_ house----

MRS. SORBY. Frankly, I didn’t expect to find your men-folk at home about this time; and so I ran up for a little chat with you, and to bid you good-by.

GINA. Really? Are you going away?

MRS. SORBY. Yes, early to-morrow; up to Hojdal. Mr. Werle left this afternoon. (_Lightly to_ GREGERS.) He sent his greetings to you.

GINA. Well, I never!----

HJALMAR. So Mr. Werle has gone away? And now you are going after him!

MRS. SORBY. Yes, what do you think of that, Ekdal?

HJALMAR. I say, be on your guard.

GREGERS. I can explain it to you. My father is going to marry Mrs. Sorby.

HJALMAR. Marry her!

GINA. Really, Bertha, at last then!

RELLING (_his voice trembles slightly_). Surely this isn’t true?

MRS. SORBY. Yes, dear Relling, it is true enough.

RELLING. Are you going to marry again now?

MRS. SORBY. Yes, it looks like it. Werle has got a special license and so we’re going to keep our wedding quite quietly up at the Works.

GREGERS. I suppose as a good step-son I must wish you happiness.

MRS. SORBY. Thank you--if you really mean it. And I hope it will be for both Werle’s and my own happiness.

RELLING. You may certainly hope that. Mr. Werle never gets drunk----so far as I know; and he’s certainly not in the habit of beating his wives either, like the late lamented horse-doctor used to do.

MRS. SORBY. Ah! let Sorby be in peace where he lies. He also had his good sides; he, too----

RELLING. But Mr. Werle has better sides, I dare swear.

MRS. SORBY. At any rate he hasn’t wasted what was best in him. The man who does that must take the consequences.

RELLING. I shall go out this evening with Molvik.

MRS. SORBY. You shouldn’t do that, Relling. Don’t do it--for my sake.

RELLING. There’s nothing else for it. (_To_ HJALMAR.) If you want to make one of us, come along.

GINA. No, thanks. Ekdal doesn’t go in for that sort of divulsions.

HJALMAR (_vexed, in a low voice_). Ah! be quiet.

RELLING. Good-by, Mrs.---- Werle.

_He goes out through the entrance-door._

GREGERS (_to_ MRS. SORBY). It seems you and Dr. Relling knew one another pretty intimately.

MRS. SORBY. Yes, we’ve known one another for many a year. Once, indeed, it might have come to something between us, too.

GREGERS. It was a good thing for you it didn’t.

MRS. SORBY. You may well say that. But I have always taken care not to act upon impulse. And a woman can’t throw herself quite away, either.

GREGERS. Are you not in the least afraid that I might give my father a hint as to this old acquaintance?

MRS. SORBY. Surely you understand that I have told him myself.

GREGERS. Indeed?

MRS. SORBY. Your father knows down to the very least detail all that people might fairly say against me. I have told him all this; it was the first thing I did when he let me see his intentions.

GREGERS. You are more than commonly frank, I think.

MRS. SORBY. I have always been frank. That’s the best way for us women.

HJALMAR. What do you say to that, Gina?

GINA. Ah! we women are so different, we are. Some take one way and some another.

MRS. SORBY. Yes, Gina, but I believe it is wisest to arrange matters as I have done. And Werle, too, has concealed nothing of what concerns himself from me. Indeed, it was _that_ which chiefly brought us together. Now he can sit and talk to me as frankly as a child. He has never been able to do that all his life. He, the strong man, full of life, heard nothing all through his youth and all through the best years of his life but sermons. And many a time the sermons were about merely imaginary offenses--as I’ve heard say.

GINA. Yes, what they say’s true enough.

GREGERS. If you ladies are going to discuss that subject I had better go.

MRS. SORBY. You needn’t go on that account. I shall not say another word. I only wanted you to know that I had done nothing deceitful or in any way underhand. It may be, perhaps, a great piece of good fortune for me--and so indeed it is in some respects. But still I think I receive no more than I give. Assuredly I shall never fail him. And I shall serve him and tend him as no one else could, now that he is becoming helpless.

HJALMAR. Helpless?

GREGERS (_to_ MRS. SORBY). Don’t speak of that here.

MRS. SORBY. It’s no use hiding it any longer, much as he would like to. He’s going blind.

HJALMAR (_starting_). Going blind? That’s strange. He is going blind, too?

GINA. So many people do.

MRS. SORBY. And you can imagine what that means to a business man. Well, I shall try to use my eyes for him as well as I can. But I mustn’t stay any longer, I’m so busy just now--oh! I was to tell you Ekdal, that if there was anything Werle could do for you, you have only to apply to Graberg.

GREGERS. I’m sure Hjalmar Ekdal will decline that offer.

MRS. SORBY. Indeed? I don’t think he used to be so----

GINA. Yes, Bertha, Ekdal wants nothing more from Mr. Werle.

HJALMAR (_slowly and emphatically_). Will you present my compliments to your future husband, and tell him that I intend very shortly to call upon the book-keeper, Graberg----

GREGERS. What! You’ll do that.

HJALMAR. ----to call upon the book-keeper, Graberg, I say, and ask for an account of the money I owe his principal. I shall pay back this debt of honor--ha, ha, ha! let us call it a debt of honor! But enough of this. I shall repay the whole with five per cent interest.

GINA. But, dear Ekdal, goodness knows we’ve not the money to do it.

HJALMAR. Will you tell your betrothed that I am working indefatigably at my invention. Will you tell him that what sustained my strength for this exhausting labor, is the desire to be rid of the torture of this load of debt. That’s why I go on with the invention. I shall devote the whole of the profits to the repayment of the pecuniary advances made me by your future consort.

MRS. SORBY. Something has happened in this house.

HJALMAR. Yes, there has.

MRS. SORBY. Well, good-bye then. There are lots of things I want to talk to you about, Gina, but they must wait till another time. Good-bye.

HJALMAR _and_ GREGERS _bow silently_; GINA _follows_ MRS. SORBY _to the door_.

HJALMAR. Not beyond the threshold, Gina! (MRS. SORBY _goes out_, GINA _closes the door after her_.) Gregers! Now I am free of this dead weight of indebtedness.

GREGERS. At any rate you soon will be.

HJALMAR. I think my attitude may be called correct.

GREGERS. You are the man I have always taken you for.

HJALMAR. In certain cases it is impossible to set aside the claims of the ideal. As the bread-winner of a family, I must writhe and agonize beneath this. For believe me, it’s no joke for a man of small means to pay off a debt that has been accumulating for years, over which, so to say, the dust of oblivion lies. But be this as it may, the Man in me too demands his rights.

GREGERS (_putting his hands on his shoulders_). Dear Hjalmar--was it not well that I came?

HJALMAR. Yes.

GREGERS. That you were shown clearly your true position--was it not well?

HJALMAR (_somewhat impatiently_). Yes, of course it was well. But there is one thing against which my sense of justice revolts.

GREGERS. And what is that?

HJALMAR. It is this, that--but I really don’t know if I may express myself so freely about your father.

GREGERS. Pray do not mind me in the least!

HJALMAR. Very well. You see, it seems to me so revolting to think that now it is not I, but he who will realize the true marriage.

GREGERS. How can you say such a thing!

HJALMAR. But it is so. For your father and Mrs. Sorby are entering upon a marriage-contract founded upon complete confidence, founded upon perfect and absolute frankness on both sides; there are no concealments between them; there’s nothing kept in the background in their relation; the two sinners, if I may so express myself, proclaim mutual forgiveness.

GREGERS. Well, and what then?

HJALMAR. But that’s the whole point of the thing. Why it was all these difficulties, as you yourself said, that were needed to found a true marriage.

GREGERS. But this is quite another matter, Hjalmar. Surely you would not conjure either yourself or her with those two. Oh! you understand me.

HJALMAR. But I can’t get away from the fact, that in all this there is something that wounds and offends my sense of rectitude. Why, it looks exactly as if there were no righteous providence in the direction of the world.

GINA. Oh! Ekdal, God knows you mustn’t say such things.

GREGERS. H’m, don’t let us enter upon that question.

HJALMAR. But, on the other hand, I seem to behold the guiding finger of Fate. He is going blind.

GINA. Oh! perhaps that’s not so very certain.

HJALMAR. It is indubitable. We, at any rate, ought not to question that, for it is just in this fact that there lies the righteous retribution. He has in his time blinded a trusting fellow-creature.

GREGERS. Unfortunately he has blinded many.

HJALMAR. And now Fate, the inexorable, the mysterious, demands his own eyes.

GINA. How can you dare to say such awful things! I’m quite frightened.

HJALMAR. It is good at times to ponder upon the seamy side of existence.

HEDVIG, _with hat and cloak, delighted and out of breath, comes in at the entrance door_.

GINA. Are you back again already?

HEDVIG. Yes, I didn’t want to stop any longer. And it’s a good thing I didn’t, for I met somebody at the door.

HJALMAR. I suppose it was that Mrs. Sorby.

HEDVIG. Yes.

HJALMAR (_walking up and down_). I hope you’ve seen her for the last time.

_A pause._ HEDVIG _looks shyly from one to the other as if to see what it all means_.

HEDVIG (_going up to him coaxingly_). Father!

HJALMAR. Well--what is it, Hedvig?

HEDVIG. Mrs. Sorby had brought me something.

HJALMAR (_stopping still_). For you?

HEDVIG. Yes. It’s something for to-morrow.

GINA. Bertha has always brought some little thing for you on that day.

HJALMAR. What is it?

HEDVIG. You mustn’t know now; for mother’s to give it me in bed to-morrow morning.

HJALMAR. Ah! All this companionship from which I am shut out!

HEDVIG (_quickly_). No, you can see if you like it. It’s a big letter. (_Taking the letter from her cloak pocket._)

HJALMAR. A letter, too?

HEDVIG. Yes, it’s only a letter. I suppose the other’s coming later. But fancy--a letter! I’ve never had a letter before. And there’s “Miss” on the outside. (_Reads._) “Miss Hedvig Ekdal.” Fancy--that’s me.

HJALMAR. Let me see that letter.

HEDVIG (_holding it out to him_). There, you can see.

HJALMAR. It is Mr. Werle’s hand.

GINA. Are you sure of that, Ekdal?

HJALMAR. See for yourself.

GINA. Oh! Do you think I understand anything about it?

HJALMAR. Hedvig, may I open the letter--and read it?

HEDVIG. Yes, of course you may, if you like.

GINA. No, not to-night, Ekdal; why it’s for to-morrow.