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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:03:28 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 20:03:28 -0700 |
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diff --git a/35305-h/35305-h.htm b/35305-h/35305-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..52e5e31 --- /dev/null +++ b/35305-h/35305-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5579 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Mr. Punch's Pocket Ibsen.</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + p {text-align: justify;} + p.inset {margin-left: 10%;} + blockquote {text-align: justify;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .center {text-align: center;} + hr {text-align: center; width: 50%;} + html>body hr {margin-right: 25%; margin-left: 25%; width: 50%;} + hr.full {width: 100%;} + html>body hr.full {margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 0%; width: 100%;} + hr.medium {width: 76%;} + html>body hr.medium {margin-right: 12%; margin-left: 12%; width: 76%;} + hr.short {text-align: center; width: 20%;} + html>body hr.short {margin-right: 40%; margin-left: 40%; width: 20%;} + span.pagenum + {position: absolute; left: 1%; right: 91%; font-size: 8pt; text-indent: 0;} + + .hangindent {margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + + .direction {margin-left: 30%; text-indent: -2em;} + .poem + {margin-left:35%; margin-right:10%; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem p {margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem p.i2 {margin-left: 1em;} + .poem p.i4 {margin-left: 2em;} + .poem p.i6 {margin-left: 3em;} + .poem p.i8 {margin-left: 4em;} + .poem p.i10 {margin-left: 5em;} + + .figure, .figcenter, .figright, .figleft + {padding: 1em; margin: 0; text-align: center; font-size: 0.8em;} + .figure img, .figcenter img, .figright img, .figleft img + {border: none;} + .figure p, .figcenter p, .figright p, .figleft p + {margin: 0; text-indent: 1em;} + .figcenter {margin: auto;} + + .img {margin: 0; padding-right: 0;} + .div {margin: 0; padding: 0;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of +Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas, by F. Anstey + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas + +Author: F. Anstey + +Illustrator: Bernard Partridge + +Release Date: February 17, 2011 [EBook #35305] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN *** + + + + +Produced by Neville Allen, David Clarke and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN</h1> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/frontis.png"> +<img src="images/frontis.png" width="100%" alt="cartoon" /></a> +</div> + +<hr /><br /> + +<center><i>A COLLECTION OF SOME OF THE MASTER'S BEST-KNOWN DRAMAS</i></center> + +<p>CONDENSED, REVISED, AND SLIGHTLY RE-ARRANGED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE +EARNEST STUDENT</p> + +<h4>BY</h4> + +<h3>F. ANSTEY</h3> + +<center>AUTHOR OF "VICE VERSA," "VOCES POPULI," ETC.</center><br /><br /><br /> + +<center><i>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY BERNARD PARTRIDGE</i></center><br /><br /> + +<center>LONDON<br /><br /> + +WILLIAM HEINEMANN<br /><br /> + +1893</center><br /><br /> + +<center>[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</center><br /><br /> + +<hr /> + +<h3>"PREFATORY NOTE"</h3> + +<p><i>The concluding piece, "Pill-Doctor Herdal," is, as the observant reader +will instantly perceive, rather a reverent attempt to tread in the +footprints of the Norwegian dramatist, than a version of any actually +existing masterpiece. The author is conscious that his imitation is +painfully lacking in the mysterious obscurity of the original, that the +vein of allegorical symbolism is thinner throughout than it should be, +and that the characters are not nearly so mad as persons invariably are +in real life—but these are the faults inevitable to a prentice hand, +and he trusts that due allowances may be made for them by the critical.</i></p> + +<p><i>In conclusion he wishes to express his acknowledgments to Messrs. +Bradbury and Agnew for their permission to reprint the present volume, +the contents of which made their original appearance in the pages of +"Punch"</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> + +<center> +<table summary="contents"> +<tr><td align="center">ROSMERSHOLM</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST">ACT FIRST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_SECOND">ACT SECOND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_THIRD">ACT THIRD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FOUR">ACT FOUR</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td align="left">NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#NORA_OR_THE_BIRD-CAGE"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST1">ACT FIRST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_SECOND1">ACT SECOND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_THIRD1">ACT THIRD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center">HEDDA GABLER</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#HEDDA_GABLER"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST2">ACT FIRST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_SECOND2">ACT SECOND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_THIRD2">ACT THIRD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center">THE WILD DUCK</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#THE_WILD_DUCK"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST3">ACT FIRST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_SECOND3">ACT SECOND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_THIRD3">ACT THIRD</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FOURTH">ACT FOURTH</a></td></tr> +<tr><td> </td><td> </td></tr> + +<tr><td align="center">PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL</td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#PILL-DOCTOR_HERDAL"></a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_FIRST4">ACT FIRST</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_SECOND4">ACT SECOND</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="center"><a href="#ACT_THIRD4">ACT THIRD</a></td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<hr /> + +<h2>ROSMERSHÖLM</h2> + +<a id="ACT_FIRST" name="ACT_FIRST"></a> + +<h3>ACT FIRST</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Sitting-room at Rosmershölm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows, +ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it.</i> +<span class="smcap">Rebecca West</span> <i>is sitting knitting a large antimacassar which is nearly +finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods +expectantly to someone outside.</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span> <i>is laying the table for +supper.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Folding up her work slowly.</i>] But tell me precisely, +what about this white horse?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Smiling quietly.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Madam Helseth.</span></center> + +<p>Lord forgive you, Miss!—[<i>fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on +table</i>]—but you're making fun of me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Gravely.</i>] No, indeed. Nobody makes fun at Rosmershölm. Mr. Rosmer +would not understand it. [<i>Shutting window.</i>] Ah, here is Rector Kroll. +[<i>Opening door.</i>] You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I +will tell them to give us some little extra dish.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Hanging up his hat in the hall.</i>] Many thanks. [<i>Wipes his boots.</i>] +May I come in? [<i>Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks +about him.</i>] And how do you and Rosmer get on together, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Ever since your sister, Beata, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, +we have been as happy as two little birds together. [<i>After a pause, +sitting down in arm-chair.</i>] So you don't really mind my living here all +alone with Rosmer? We were afraid you might, perhaps.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>Why, how on earth—on the contrary, I shouldn't object at all if +you—[<i>looks at her meaningly</i>]—h'm!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Interrupting, gravely.</i>] For shame, Rector; how can you make such +jokes?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As if surprised.</i>] Jokes! We do not joke in these parts—but here is +Rosmer.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>, <i>gently and softly.</i> +</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year's absence. +[<i>Sits down.</i>] We almost thought that——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Nods.</i>] So Miss West was saying—but you are quite mistaken. I merely +thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor Beata's suicide, so I +kept away. We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>It was considerate—but unnecessary. Reb—I <i>mean</i>, Miss West—and I +often allude to the incident, do we not?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Strikes Tändstickor.</i>] Oh yes, indeed. [<i>Lighting lamp.</i>] Whenever we +feel a little more cheerful than usual.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>You dear good people! [<i>Wanders up the room.</i>] I came because the Spirit +of Revolt has crept into my School. A Secret Society has existed for +weeks in the Lower Third! To-day it has come to my knowledge that a +booby trap was prepared for me by the hand of my own son, Laurits, and +I then discovered that a hair had been inserted in my cane by my +daughter Hilda! The only way in which a right-minded Schoolmaster can +combat this anarchic and subversive spirit is to start a newspaper, and +I thought that you, as a weak, credulous, inexperienced and +impressionable kind of man, were the very person to be the Editor.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>laughs softly, as if to herself.</i><br /> + +<span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>jumps up and sits down again.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With a look at Rosmer.</i>] Tell him now!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Returning the look.</i>] I can't—Some other evening. Well, perhaps—— +[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Kroll</span>.] I can't be your Editor—because [<i>in a low voice</i>] I—I am +on the side of Laurits and Hilda!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks from one to the other, gloomily.</i>] H'm!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Yes. Since we last met, I have changed my views. I am going to create a +new democracy, and awaken it to its true task of making all the people +of this country noblemen, by freeing their wills, and purifying their +minds!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>What <i>do</i> you mean!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes up his hat.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Bowing his head.</i>] I don't quite know, my dear friend; it was Reb—— +I should say Miss West's scheme.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>H'm! [<i>A suspicion appears in his face.</i>] Now I begin to believe that +what Beata said about schemes—— no matter. But under the +circumstances, I will <i>not</i> stay to supper.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes up his stick, and walks out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>I <i>told</i> you he would be annoyed. I shall go to bed now. I don't want +any supper. [<i>He lights a candle, and goes out; presently his footsteps +are heard overhead, as he undresses</i>. <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>pulls a bell-rope.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span>, <i>who enters with dishes.</i>] No, Mr. Rosmer will not +have supper to-night. [<i>In a lighter tone.</i>] Perhaps he is afraid of the +nightmare. There are so many sorts of White Horses in this world!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Madam Helseth.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shaking.</i>] Lord! lord! that Miss West—the things she does say!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>goes out through door, knitting antimacassar thoughtfully, as +Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_SECOND" id="ACT_SECOND"></a>ACT SECOND</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Rosmer's</span> <i>study. Doors and windows, bookshelves, a writing-table. Door, +with curtain, leading to</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer's</span> <i>bedroom.</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>discovered in a +smoking jacket cutting a pamphlet with a paper-knife. There is a knock +at the door.</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>says "Come in."</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>enters in a morning +wrapper and curl-papers. She sits on a chair close to</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>, <i>and +looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves.</i> <span class="smcap">Rector Kroll</span> <i>is shown +up.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Lays his hat on the table and looks at</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>from head to foot.</i>] +I am really afraid that I am in the way.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Surprised.</i>] Because I am in my morning wrapper and curl-papers? You +forget that I am <i>emancipated</i>, Rector Kroll.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She leaves them and listens behind curtain in</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer's</span> <i>bedroom</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, Miss West and I have worked our way forward in faithful +comradeship.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shakes his head at him slowly.</i>] So I perceive. Miss West is naturally +inclined to be forward. But, I say, <i>really</i> you know—— However, I +came to tell you that poor Beata was not so mad as she looked, though +flowers <i>did</i> bewilder her so. [<i>Taking off his gloves meaningly.</i>] She +jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea that you ought to +marry Miss West!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p13.png"> +<img src="images/p13.png" width="100%" alt="Taking off his gloves" /></a> +<h3>"Taking off his gloves meaningly."</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Jumps half up from his chair.</i>] I? Marry—Miss West! My good gracious, +Kroll! I don't <i>understand</i>, it is <i>most</i> incomprehensible. [<i>Looks +fixedly before him.</i>] How <i>can</i> people?—— [<i>Looks at him for a moment, +then rises.</i>] Will you get out? [<i>Still quiet and self-restrained.</i>] But +first tell me why you never mentioned this before?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>Why? Because I thought you were both orthodox, which made all the +difference. Now I know that you side with Laurits and Hilda, and mean to +make the democracy into noblemen, and accordingly I intend to make it +hot for you in my paper. <i>Good</i> morning!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He slams the door with spite as</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>enters from bedroom.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As if surprised.</i>.] You—in my bedroom! You have been listening, dear? +But you <i>are</i> so emancipated. + +Ah, well! so our pure and beautiful friendship has been misinterpreted, +bespattered! Just because you wear a morning wrapper, and have lived +here alone for a year, people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make +unpleasant remarks! But what really <i>did</i> drive Beata mad? <i>Why</i> did she +jump into the mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we could to spare +her! I made it the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all +our interests—<i>didn't</i> I, now?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>You did. But why brood over it? What <i>does</i> it matter? Get on with your +great beautiful task, dear—[<i>approaching him cautiously from +behind</i>]—winning over minds and wills, and creating noblemen, you +know—<i>joyful</i> noblemen!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Walking about restlessly, as if in thought.</i>] Yes, I know. I have +never laughed in the whole course of my life—we Rosmers don't—and so I +felt that spreading gladness and light, and making the democracy +joyful, was properly my mission. But <i>now</i>—I feel too upset to go on, +Rebecca, unless—— [<i>Shakes his head heavily.</i>] Yes, an idea has just +occurred to me—— [<i>Looks at her, and then runs his hands through his +hair</i>]—Oh, my goodness! No—I <i>can't</i>.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He leans his elbows on table.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Be a free man to the full, Rosmer—tell me your idea.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Gloomily.</i>] I don't know what you'll say to it. It's this: Our +platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and happy. +Now that I am bothered and badgered, I feel—<i>why</i>, I can't exactly +explain, but I <i>do</i> feel that I must oppose a new and living reality to +the gnawing memories of the past. I should perhaps, explain that this is +equivalent to an Ibsenian proposal.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Catches at the chair-back with joy.</i>] How? at <i>last</i>—a rise at last! +[<i>Recollects herself.</i>] But what am I about? Am I not an emancipated +enigma? [<i>Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror.</i>] What are you +saying? You mustn't. I can't <i>think</i> what you mean. Go away, do!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Softly.</i>] Be the new and living reality. It is the only way to put +Beata out of the Saga. Shall we try it?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Never! Do not—<i>do</i> not ask me why—for I haven't a notion—but never! +[<i>Nods slowly to him and rises.</i>] White Horses would not induce me! +[<i>With her hand on door-handle.</i>] Now you <i>know</i>!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Sits up, stares, thunderstruck, at the stove, and says to himself.</i>] +Well—I—<i>am</i>——</p> + +<p class="direction"><i>Quick Curtain.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<a name="ACT_THIRD" id="ACT_THIRD"></a><h3>ACT THREE</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Sitting-room at Rosmershölm. Sun shining outside in the Garden. Inside</i> +<span class="smcap">Rebecca West</span> <i>is watering a geranium with a small watering-pot. Her +crochet antimacassar lies in the arm-chair.</i> <span class="smcap">Madame Helseth</span> <i>is rubbing +the chairs with furniture-polish from a large bottle. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>, +<i>with his hat and stick in his hand.</i> <span class="smcap">Madame Helseth</span> <i>corks the bottle +and goes out to the right</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Good morning, dear. [<i>A moment after</i>—<i>crocheting.</i>] Have you seen +Rector Kroll's paper this morning? There's something about <i>you</i> in it.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Oh, indeed? [<i>Puts down hat and stick, and takes up paper.</i>] H'm! +[<i>Reads</i>—<i>then walks about the room.</i>] Kroll <i>has</i> made it hot for me. +[<i>Reads some more.</i>] Oh, this is <i>too</i> bad! Rebecca, they <i>do</i> say such +nasty spiteful things! they actually call me a renegade—and I can't +<i>think</i> why! They <i>mustn't</i> go on like this. All that is good in human +nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent man +like me! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have been!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to attain—and I +wish you may get it!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Thanks. I think I shall. [<i>Happens to look through window and jumps.</i>] +Ah, no, I shan't—never now, I have just seen——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p><i>Not</i> the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that White +Horse!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>No—the mill-race, where Beata—— [<i>Puts on his hat</i>—<i>takes it off +again.</i>] I'm beginning to be haunted by—no, I <i>don't</i> mean the +Horse—by a terrible suspicion that Beata may have been right after all! +Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really have +been in love with you from the first. Tell me <i>your</i> opinion.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Struggling with herself, and still crocheting.</i>] Oh—I can't exactly +say—such an odd question to ask me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Shakes his head.</i>] Perhaps; I have no sense of humour—no respectable +Norwegian <i>has</i>—and I <i>do</i> want to know—because, you see, if I <i>was</i> +in love with you, it was a <i>sin</i>, and if I once convinced myself of +that——</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Wanders across the room.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Breaking out.</i>] Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is your hat, +and your stick, too; go and take a walk.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk; +presently</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span> <i>appears, and tells</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>something.</i> +<span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>tells her something. They whisper together.</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span> +<i>nods, and shows in</i> <span class="smcap">Rector Kroll</span>, <i>who keeps his hat in his hand, and +sits on a chair.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider you an +artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering your +birth and moral antecedents, you know—[<i>nods at her</i>]—it is not +surprising. [<span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>walks about wringing her hands.</i>] Why, what <i>is</i> +the matter? Did you really not know that you had no right to your +father's name? I'd no <i>idea</i> you would mind my mentioning such a trifle!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Breaking out.</i>] I <i>do</i> mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain +a few little prejudices still. I <i>don't</i> like owning to my real age, and +I <i>do</i> prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information—of which I +was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. Gamvik, never <i>once</i> +alluded to it—I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced +women are like that. Here is Rosmer. [<span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>enters with his hat and +stick.</i>] Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. Let +us sit down, dear, all three of us. [<i>They sit down, mechanically, on +chairs.</i>] A long time ago, before the play began—[<i>in a voice scarcely +audible</i>]—in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow <i>do</i> +happen before the play begins—;</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>But, Rebecca, I <i>know</i> all this.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks hard at her.</i>] Perhaps I had better go?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>No—I will be short. This was it. I wanted to take my share in the life +of the New Era, and march onward with Rosmer. There was one dismal, +insurmountable barrier—[<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>, <i>who nods gravely</i>]—Beata! I +understood where your deliverance lay—and I acted. <i>I</i> drove Beata into +the mill-race.... There!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>After a short silence.</i>] H'm! Well, Kroll—[<i>takes up his hat</i>]—if +you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox +once more—after <i>this!</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Kroll.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Severely and impressively, to</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span>.] A nice sort of young woman +<i>you</i> are! [<i>Both go out hastily, without looking at</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Speaks to herself, under her breath</i>.] Now I <i>have</i> done it. I wonder +<i>why</i>. [<i>Pulls bell-rope.</i>] Madam Helseth, I have just had a glimpse of +two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span>, <i>with +large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FOUR" id="ACT_FOUR"></a>ACT FOUR</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Late evening.</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca West</span> <i>stands by a lighted lamp, with a shade +over it, packing sandwiches, &c., in a reticule, with a faint smile. The +antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Seeing the sandwiches, &c.</i>] Sandwiches? Then you <i>are</i> going! Why, on +earth—I <i>can't</i> understand!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Dear, you never <i>can</i>. Rosmershölm is too much for me. But how did you +get on with Kroll?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of ennobling men +was several sizes too large for me—so I am going to let it alone——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With her faint smile.</i>] There I almost think, dear, that you are wise.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>As if annoyed.</i>] What, so <i>you</i> don't believe in me either, +Rebecca—you never <i>did</i>!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Sits listlessly on chair.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself—but I've another +confession to make.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>What, <i>another</i>? I really can't stand any more confessions just now!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sitting close to him.</i>] It is only a little one. I bullied Beata into +the mill-race—because of a wild uncontrollable—— [<span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>moves +uneasily.</i>] Sit still, dear—uncontrollable fancy—for <i>you</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Goes and sits on sofa.</i>] Oh, my goodness, Rebecca—you <i>mustn't</i>, you +know!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He jumps up and down as if embarrassed.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p29.png"> +<img src="images/p29.png" width="100%" alt="you mustn't, you know" /></a> +<h3>"Oh, my goodness, Rebecca—you <i>mustn't</i>, you know!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you +in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without +reserve—little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the +Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an +extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The Rosmer view of life is +ennobling, very—but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Turning it off.</i>] Isn't that enough for one evening?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Almost voiceless.</i>] No, dear. I have a Past—<i>behind</i> me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p><i>Behind</i> you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. [<i>Starts, +as if in fear.</i>] A joke! [<i>Sadly.</i>] Ah, no—<i>no</i>, I must not give way to +<i>that</i>! Never mind the Past, Rebecca; I once thought that I had made the +grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see +now it was too daring, too original—an immature dream. What bothers me +is that I can't—somehow I <i>can't</i>—believe entirely in you—I am not +even sure that I <i>have</i> ennobled you so very much—<i>isn't</i> it terrible?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Wringing her hands.</i>] Oh, this killing doubt! [<i>Looks darkly at him.</i>] +Is there anything <i>I</i> can do to convince you?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>As if impelled to speak against his will.</i>] Yes, one thing—only I'm +afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it. +It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to +ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now, +unless—well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like Beata!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her head.</i>] Anything to oblige you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Springs up.</i>] What? You really <i>will</i>! You are <i>sure</i> you don't mind? +Then, Rebecca, I will go further. I will even go—yes—as far as you go +yourself!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rebecca</span>.</p> + +<p>[<i>Bows her head towards his breast.</i>] You will see me off? Thanks. Now +you are indeed an Ibsenite.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Smiles almost imperceptibly.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Cautiously.</i>] I said as far as <i>you</i> go. I don't commit myself further +than that. Shall we go?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rebecca</span>.</p> + +<p>First tell me this. Are <i>you</i> going with <i>me</i>, or am <i>I</i> going with +<i>you?</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>A subtle psychological point—but we have not time to think it out here. +We will discuss it as we go along. Come!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>takes his hat and stick</i>, <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>her reticule, with +sandwiches. They go out hand-in-hand through the door, which they leave +open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is left empty. +Then</i> <span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span> <i>enters through another door</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span>.</center> + +<p>The cab, Miss—not here! [<i>Looks out.</i>] Out together—at this time of +night—upon my—<i>not</i> on the garden seat? [<i>Looks out of window.</i>] My +goodness! <i>what</i> is that white thing on the bridge—the <i>Horse</i> at last! +[<i>Shrieks aloud.</i>] And those two sinful creatures running home!</p> + +<p class="direction"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Rosmer</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span>, <i>out of breath</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rosmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Scarcely able to get the words out.</i>] It's no use, Rebecca—we must +put it off till another evening. We can't be expected to jump off a +footbridge which already has a White Horse on it. And if it comes to +that, why should we jump at all? I know now that I really <i>have</i> +ennobled you, which was all I wanted. What would be the good of +recovering faith in my mission at the bottom of a mill-pond? No, +Rebecca—[<i>Lays his hand on her head</i>]—there is no judge over us, and +therefore——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rebecca.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Interrupting gravely.</i>] We will bind ourselves over in our own +recognisances to come up for judgment when called upon.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Madam Helseth</span> <i>holds on to a chair-back.</i> <span class="smcap">Rebecca</span> <i>finishes the +antimacassar calmly as Curtain falls</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="NORA_OR_THE_BIRD-CAGE" id="NORA_OR_THE_BIRD-CAGE"></a>NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE</h2> + +<h3>(ET DIKKISVÖET)</h3> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FIRST1" id="ACT_FIRST1"></a>ACT FIRST</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>A room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks in an +étagère: a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from the gaselier. +Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders, frogs and lizards, +scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes with tall dyed grasses. A +porcelain stove decorated with transferable pictures. Showily-bound +books in book-case. Window. The Visitor's bell rings in the hall +outside. The hall-door is heard to open, and then to shut. Presently</i> +<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>walks in with parcels; a porter carries a large Christmas-tree +after her—which he puts down</i>. <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>gives him a shilling—and he goes +out grumbling</i>.</p> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>hums contentedly, and eats macaroons. Then</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span> <i>puts his head +out of his Manager's room, and</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>hides macaroons cautiously</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Playfully.</i>] Is that my little squirrel twittering—that my lark +frisking in here?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Ess! [<i>To herself.</i>] I have only been married eight years, so these +marital amenities have not yet had time to pall!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Threatening with his finger.</i>] I hope the little bird has surely not +been digging its beak into any macaroons, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Bolting one, and wiping her mouth.</i>] No, most certainly not. [<i>To +herself</i>] The worst of being so babyish is—one <i>does</i> have to tell +such a lot of taradiddles! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.] See what I've bought—it's been +<i>such</i> fun! [<i>Hums.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Inspecting parcels.</i>] H'm—rather an <i>expensive</i> little lark!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes her playfully by the ear.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which reminds me—— +[<i>Plays with his coat-buttons.</i>] I'm such a simple ickle sing—but if +you <i>are</i> thinking of giving me a Christmas present, make it cash!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Just like your poor father, <i>he</i> always asked me to make it cash—he +never made any himself! It's heredity, I suppose. Well—well!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes back to his Bank</i>. <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>goes on humming.</i></p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>, <i>doubtfully</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>What, Christina—why, how old you look! But then you are poor. I'm not. +Torvald has just been made a Bank Manager. [<i>Tidies the room.</i>] Isn't it +really wonderfully delicious to be well off? But of course, you wouldn't +know. <i>We</i> were poor once, and, do you know, when Torvald was ill, +I—[<i>tossing her head</i>]—though I <i>am</i> such a frivolous little squirrel, +and all that, I actually borrowed £300 for him to go abroad. Wasn't +<i>that</i> clever? Tra-la-la! I shan't tell you <i>who</i> lent it. I didn't even +tell Torvald. I am such a mere baby I don't tell him everything. I tell +Dr. Rank, though. Oh, I'm so awfully happy I should like to shout, "Dash +it all!"</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Stroking her hair.</i>] Do—it is a natural and innocent outburst—you +are such a child! But I am a widow, and want employment. <i>Do</i> you think +your husband could find me a place as clerk in his Bank? [<i>Proudly.</i>] I +am an excellent knitter!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>That would really be awfully funny. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span>, <i>who enters.</i>] +Torvald, this is Christina; she wants to be a clerk in your Bank—<i>do</i> +let her! She thinks such a lot of <i>you</i>. [<i>To herself.</i>] Another +taradiddle!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>She is a sensible woman, and deserves encouragement. Come along, Mrs. +Linden, and we'll see what we can do for you.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out through the hall with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>, <i>and the front-door is +heard to slam after them.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Opens door, and calls.</i>] Now, Emmy, Ivar, and Bob, come in and have a +romp with Mamma—we will play hide-and-seek. [<i>She gets under the +table, smiling in quiet satisfaction</i>; <span class="smcap">Krogstad</span> <i>enters</i>—<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>pounces +out upon him.</i>] Boo!... Oh, I beg your pardon. I don't do this kind of +thing <i>generally</i>—though I may be a little silly.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p43.png"> +<img src="images/p43.png" width="100%" alt="Boo" /></a> +<h3>"Boo!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Politely.</i>] Don't mention it. I called because I happened to see your +husband go out with Mrs. Linden—from which, being a person of +considerable penetration, I infer that he is about to give her my post +at the Bank. Now, as you owe me the balance of £300, for which I hold +your acknowledgment, you will see the propriety of putting a stop to +this little game at once.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>But I don't at all—not a little wee bit! I'm so childish, you know—why +<i>should</i> I?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Sitting upright on carpet.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>I will try to make it plain to the meanest capacity. When you came to me +for the loan, I naturally required some additional security. +Your father, being a shady Government official, without a penny—for, if +he had possessed one, he would presumably have left it to you—without a +penny, then—I, as a cautious man of business, insisted upon having his +signature as a surety. Oh, we Norwegians are sharp fellows!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Well, you <i>got</i> papa's signature, didn't you?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>Oh, I <i>got</i> it right enough. Unfortunately, it was dated three days +after his decease—now, how do you account for <i>that</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>How? Why, as poor Papa was dead, and couldn't sign, I signed <i>for</i> him, +that's all! Only somehow I forgot to put the date back. <i>That's</i> how. +Didn't I <i>tell</i> you I was a silly, unbusiness like little thing? It's +very simple.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>Very—but what you did amounts to forgery, notwithstanding. I happen to +know, because I'm a lawyer, and have done a little in the forging way +myself. So, to come to the point—if <i>I</i> get kicked out, I shall not go +alone!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He bows, and goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>It <i>can't</i> be wrong! Why, no one but Krogstad would have been taken in +by it! If the Law says it's wrong, the Law's a goose—a bigger goose +than poor little me even! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span>, <i>who enters.</i>] Oh, Torvald, how +you made me jump!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Has anybody called? [<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>shakes her head.</i>] Oh, my little squirrel +mustn't tell naughty whoppers. Why, I just met that fellow Krogstad in +the hall. He's been asking you to get me to take him back—now, hasn't +he?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Walking about.</i>] Do just see how pretty the Christmas-tree looks!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Never mind the tree—I want to have this out about Krogstad. I can't +take him back, because many years ago he forged a name. As a lawyer, a +close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have remarked that +people who forge names seldom or never confide the fact to their +children—which inevitably brings moral contagion into the entire +family. From which it follows, logically, that Krogstad has been +poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally lost. +[<i>Stretches out his hands to her.</i>] I can't bear a morally lost +Bank-cashier about me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>But you never thought of dismissing him till Christina came!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>H'm! I've got some business to attend to—so good-bye, little lark!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes into office and shuts door.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Pale with terror.</i>] If Krogstad poisons his children because he once +forged a name, I must be poisoning Emmy, and Bob, and Ivar, because <i>I</i> +forged papa's signature! [<i>Short pause; she raises her head proudly.</i>] +After all, if I am a doll, I can still draw a logical inference! I +mustn't play with the children any more—[<i>hotly</i>]—I don't care—I +<i>shall</i>, though! Who cares for Krogstad?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She makes a face, choking with suppressed tears, as Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_SECOND1" id="ACT_SECOND1"></a>ACT SECOND</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>The room, with the cheap Art-furniture as before—except that the +candles on the Christmas tree have guttered down and appear to have been +lately blown out. The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are +disarranged, and there are walking things on the sofa.</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>alone</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Putting on a cloak and taking it off again.</i>]</p> + +<p>Bother Krogstad! There, I won't think of him. I'll only think of the costume ball at Consul +Stenborg's, overhead, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all +alone, dressed as a Capri fisher-girl. It struck Torvald that, as I am +a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul's +guests, and, at the same time, increase his connection at the Bank. +Torvald is so practical. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>, <i>who comes in with a large +cardboard box.</i>] Ah, Christina, so you have brought in my old costume? +<i>Would</i> you mind, as my husband's new Cashier, just doing up the +trimming for me?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>Not at all—is it not part of my regular duties? [<i>Sewing.</i>] Don't you +think, Nora, that you see a little too much of Dr. Rank?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Oh, I <i>couldn't</i> see too much of Dr. Rank! He <i>is</i> so amusing—always +talking about his complaints, and heredity, and all sorts of +indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear; I hear Torvald.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span> <i>goes.</i> +<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Torvald</span> <i>from the Manager's room.</i> +<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>runs trippingly to him.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Coaxing.</i>] Oh, Torvald, if only you won't dismiss Krogstad, you can't +think how your little lark would jump about and twitter.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that, as it is, the +little lark is generally engaged in that particular occupation. And I +really <i>must</i> get rid of Krogstad. If I didn't, people would say I was +under the thumb of my little squirrel here, and then Krogstad and I knew +each other in early youth; and when two people knew each other in early +youth—[<i>a short pause</i>]—h'm! Besides, he will address me as, "I say, +Torvald"—which causes me most painful emotion! He is tactless, +dishonest, familiar, and morally ruined—altogether not at all the kind +of person to be a Cashier in a Bank like mine.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>But he writes in scurrilous papers—he is on the staff of the Norwegian +<i>Punch</i>. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about <i>you</i>, as +wicked people did about poor dear papa!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Your poor dear papa was not impeccable—far from it. I <i>am</i>—which makes +all the difference. I have here a letter giving Krogstad the sack. One +of the conveniences of living close to the Bank is, that I can use the +housemaids as Bank-messengers. [<i>Goes to door and calls.</i>] Ellen! +[<i>Enter parlourmaid.</i>] Take that letter—there is no answer. [<span class="smcap">Ellen</span> +<i>takes it and goes.</i>] That's settled—and now, Nora, as I am going to my +private room, it will be a capital opportunity for you to practise the +tambourine—thump away, little lark, the doors are double!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Nods to her and goes in, shutting door.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Stroking her face.</i>] How <i>am</i> I to get out of this mess? [<i>A ring at +the visitors' bell.</i>] Dr. Rank's ring! <i>He</i> shall help me out of it! [<span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span> <i>appears in doorway, hanging up his +great-coat.</i>] Dear Dr. Rank, how <i>are</i> you?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes both his hands</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Sitting down near the stove.</i>] I am a miserable, hypochondriacal +wretch—that's what <i>I</i> am. And why am I doomed to be dismal? Why? +Because my father died of a fit of the blues! <i>Is</i> that fair—I put it +to <i>you</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Do try to be funnier than <i>that</i>! See, I will show you the +flesh-coloured silk tights that I am to wear to-night—it will cheer you +up. But you must only look at the feet—well, you may look at the rest +if you're good. <i>Aren't</i> they lovely? Will they fit me, do you think?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Gloomily.</i>] A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best +authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for worms before +long—I <i>know</i> I shall!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p53.png"> +<img src="images/p53.png" width="100%" alt="not the best authority" /></a> +<h3>"A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the +best authority on the fit of silk stockings."</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! [<i>She hits him lightly on +the ear with the stockings; then hums a little.</i>] I want you to do me a +great service, Dr. Rank. [<i>Rolling up stockings.</i>] I always liked <i>you</i>. +I love Torvald most, of <i>course</i>—but, somehow, I'd rather spend my time +with you—you <i>are</i> so amusing!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span>.</center> + +<p>If I am, can't you guess why? [<i>A short silence.</i>] Because I love you! +You can't pretend you didn't know it!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Perhaps not—but it was really too clumsy of you to mention it just as I +was about to ask a favour of you! It was in the worst taste! [<i>With +dignity.</i>] You must not imagine because I joke with you about silk +stockings, and tell you things I never tell Torvald, that I am therefore +without the most delicate and scrupulous self-respect! I am really quite +a good little doll, Dr. Rank, and now—[<i>sits in rocking chair and +smiles</i>]—now I shan't ask you what I was going to!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Ellen</span> <i>comes in with a card.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Terrified.</i>] Oh, my goodness!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Puts it in her pocket.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank.</span></center> + +<p>Excuse my easy Norwegian pleasantry—but—h'm—anything disagreeable up?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>To herself.</i>] Krogstad's card! I must tell <i>another</i> whopper! [<i>To</i> +<span class="smcap">Rank</span>.] No, nothing—only—only my new costume. I want to try it on here. +I always do try on my dresses in the drawing-room—it's <i>cosier</i>, you +know. So go in to Torvald and amuse him till I'm ready.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rank</span> <i>goes into</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer's</span> <i>room, and</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>bolts the door upon him, +as</i> <span class="smcap">Krogstad</span> <i>enters from hall in a fur cap</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>Well, I've got the sack, and so I came to see how <i>you</i> are getting on. +I mayn't be a nice man, but—[<i>with feeling</i>]—I have a heart! And, as I +don't intend to give up the forged I.O.U.. unless I'm taken back, I was +afraid you might be contemplating suicide, or something of that kind; +and so I called to tell you that, if I were you, I wouldn't. Bad thing +for the complexion, suicide—and silly, too, because it wouldn't mend +matters in the least. [<i>Kindly.</i>] You must not take this affair too +seriously, Mrs. Helmer. Get your husband to settle it amicably by taking +me back as Cashier; <i>then</i> I shall soon get the whip-hand of <i>him</i>, and +we shall all be as pleasant and comfortable as possible together!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Not even that prospect can tempt me! Besides, Torvald wouldn't have you +back at any price now!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>All right, then. I have here a letter, telling your husband all. I will +take the liberty of dropping it in the letter-box at your hall-door as I +go out. I'll wish you good evening!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out; presently the dull sound of a thick letter dropping into +a wire box is heard.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Softly, and hoarsely.</i>] He's done it! How <i>am</i> I to prevent Torvald +from seeing it?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Inside the door, rattling.</i>] Hasn't my lark changed its dress yet? +[<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>unbolts door.</i>] What—so you are <i>not</i> in fancy costume, after +all? [<i>Enters with</i> <span class="smcap">Rank</span>.] Are there any letters for me in the box +there?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Voicelessly.</i>] None—not even a postcard! Oh, Torvald, don't, please, +go and look—<i>promise</i> me you won't! I do <i>assure</i> you there isn't a +letter! And I've forgotten the Tarantella you taught me—do let's run +over it. I'm so afraid of breaking down—promise me not to look at the +letter-box. I can't dance unless you do.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Standing still, on his way to the letter-box.</i>] I am a man of strict +business habits, and some powers of observation; my little squirrel's +assurances that there is nothing in the box, combined with her obvious +anxiety that I should not go and see for myself, satisfy me that it is +indeed empty, in spite of the fact that I have not invariably found her +a strictly truthful little dicky-bird. There—there. [<i>Sits down to +piano.</i>] Bang away on your tambourine, little squirrel—dance away, my +own lark!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Dancing, with a long gay shawl.</i>] Just <i>won't</i> the little squirrel! +Faster—faster! Oh, I <i>do</i> feel so gay! We will have some champagne for +dinner, <i>won't</i> we, Torvald?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Dances with more and more abandonment.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>After addressing frequent remarks in correction.</i>] Come, come—not +this awful wildness! I don't like to see <i>quite</i> such a larky little +lark as this.... Really it is time you stopped!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Her hair coming down as she dances more wildly still, and swings the +tambourine.</i>] I can't....I can't! [<i>To herself, as she dances.</i>] I've +only thirty-one hours left to be a bird in; and after +that—[<i>shuddering</i>]—after <i>that</i>, Krogstad will let the cat out of the +bag!</p> + +<p class="direction"><i>Curtain.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_THIRD1" id="ACT_THIRD1"></a>ACT THIRD</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>The same room</i>—<i>except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one +of the Japanese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fire-place</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. +Linden</span> <i>sits and reads a book</i>—<i>but without understanding a single +line</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Laying down her book, as a light tread is heard outside</i>.] Here he is +at last! [<span class="smcap">Krogstad</span> <i>comes in, and stands in the doorway.</i>] Mr. Krogstad, +I have given you a secret <i>rendezvous</i> in this room, because it belongs +to my employer, Mr. Helmer, who has lately discharged you. The etiquette +of Norway permits these slight freedoms on the part of a female +cashier.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>It does. Are we alone? [<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>is heard overhead dancing the +Tarantella</i>.] Yes, I hear Mrs. Helmer's fairy footfall above. She dances +the Tarantella now—by-and-by she will dance to another tune! [<i>Changing +his tone.</i>] I don't exactly know why you should wish to have this +interview—after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>Don't you? <i>I</i> do. I am a widow—a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred +to me that there may be a nobler side to your nature somewhere—though +you have not precisely the best of reputations.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the +Norwegian <i>Punch</i>—a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been +blackmailing Mrs. Helmer by trading on her fears, like a low cowardly +cur. But, in spite of all that—[<i>clasping his hands</i>]—there are the +makings of a fine man about me <i>yet</i>, Christina!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>I believe you—at least, I'll chance it. I want some one to care for, +and I'll marry you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Suspiciously.</i>] On condition, I suppose, that I suppress the letter +denouncing Mrs. Helmer?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>How can you think so? I am her dearest friend; but I can still see her +faults, and it is my firm opinion that a sharp lesson will do her all +the good in the world. She is <i>much</i> too comfortable. So leave the +letter in the box, and come home with me.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Krogstad</span>.</center> + +<p>I am wildly happy! Engaged to the female cashier of the manager who has +discharged me, our future is bright and secure!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out; and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span> <i>sets the furniture straight; presently +a noise is heard outside, and</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span> <i>enters, dragging</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>in. She +is in fancy dress, and he in an open black domino.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>I shan't! It's too early to come away from such a nice party. I <i>won't</i> +go to bed!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She whimpers.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Tenderly.</i>] There'sh a naughty lil' larkie for you, Mrs. Linen! +Poshtively had to drag her 'way! She'sh a capricious lil' girl—from +Capri. 'Scuse me!—'fraid I've been and made a pun. Shan' 'cur again! +Shplendid champagne the Consul gave us—'counts for it! [<i>Sits down +smiling.</i>] Do you <i>knit</i>, Mrs. Cotton?... You shouldn't. Never knit. +'Broider. [<i>Nodding to her, solemnly.</i>] 'Member that. Alwaysh +<i>'broider</i>. More—[<i>hiccoughing</i>]—Oriental! Gobblesh you!—goo'ni!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Linden</span>.</center> + +<p>I only came in to—to see Nora's costume. Now I've seen it, I'll go.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Awful bore that woman—hate boresh! [<i>Looks at</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span>, <i>then comes +nearer.</i>] Oh, you prillil squillikins, I <i>do</i> love you so! Shomehow, I +feel sho lively thishevenin'!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p67.png"> +<img src="images/p67.png" width="100%" alt="prillil squillikins" /></a> +<h3>"Oh, you prillil squillikins!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Goes to other side of table.</i>] I won't <i>have</i> all that, Torvald!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Why? ain't you my lil' lark—ain't thish our lil' cage? Ver-<i>well</i>, then. +[<i>A ring.</i>] Rank! confound it all! [<i>Enter</i> DR. <span class="smcap">Rank</span>.] Rank, dear old +boy, you've been [<i>hiccoughs</i>] going it upstairs. Cap'tal champagne, eh? +'<i>Shamed</i> of you, Rank!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He sits down on sofa, and closes his eyes gently.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span>.</center> + +<p>Did you notice it? [<i>With pride.</i>] It was almost incredible the amount I +contrived to put away. But I shall suffer for it to-morrow. +[<i>Gloomily.</i>] Heredity again! I wish I was dead! I do.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Don't apologise. Torvald was just as bad; but he is always so +good-tempered after champagne.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Rank</span>.</center> + +<p>Ah, well, I just looked in to say that I haven't long to live. Don't +weep for me, Mrs. Helmer, it's chronic—and hereditary too. Here are my +P.P.C. cards. I'm a fading flower. Can you oblige me with a cigar?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>With a suppressed smile.</i>] Certainly. Let me give you a light?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Doctor Rank</span> <i>lights his cigar, after several ineffectual attempts, and +goes out</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Compassionately.</i>] Poo' old Rank—he'sh very bad to-ni'! [<i>Pulls +himself together.</i>] But I forgot—Bishness—I mean, bu-si-ness—mush be +'tended to. I'll go and see if there are any letters. [<i>Goes to box.</i>] +Hallo! some one's been at the lock with a hairpin—it's one of <i>your</i> +hairpins!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Holding it out to her.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Quickly.</i>] Not mine—one of Bob's, or Ivar's—they both wear hairpins!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Turning over letters absently.</i>] You must break them of it—bad habit! +What a lot o' lettersh! <i>double</i> usual quantity. [<i>Opens</i> <span class="smcap">Krogstad's</span>.] +By Jove! [<i>Reads it and falls back completely sobered.</i>] What have you +got to say to <i>this</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Crying aloud.</i>] You shan't save me—let me go! I <i>won't</i> be saved!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Save <i>you</i>, indeed! Who's going to save <i>Me</i>? You miserable little +criminal. [<i>Annoyed.</i>] Ugh—ugh!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>With hardening expression.</i>] Indeed, Torvald, your singing-bird acted +for the best!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Singing-bird! Your father was a rook—and you take <i>after</i> him. Heredity +again! You have utterly destroyed my happiness. [<i>Walks round several +times.</i>] Just as I was beginning to get on, too!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>I have—but I will go away and jump into the water.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>What good will <i>that</i> do me? People will say I had a hand in this +business. [<i>Bitterly.</i>] If you <i>must</i> forge, you might at least put your +dates in correctly! But you never <i>had</i> any principle! [<i>A ring.</i>] The +front-door bell! [<i>A fat letter is seen to fall into the box</i>; <span class="smcap">Helmer</span> +<i>takes it, opens it, sees enclosure, and embraces</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span>.] Krogstad won't +split. See, he returns the forged I.O.U.! Oh, my poor little lark, +<i>what</i> you must have gone through! Come under my wing, my little scared +song-bird.... Eh? you <i>won't</i>! Why, what's the matter <i>now</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>With cold calm.</i>] I have wings of my own, thank you, Torvald, and I +mean to use them!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>What—leave your pretty cage, and [<i>pathetically</i>] the old cock bird, +and the poor little innocent eggs!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Exactly. Sit down, and we will talk it over first. [<i>Slowly.</i>] Has it +ever struck you that this is the first time you and I have ever talked +seriously together about serious things?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Come, I do like that! How on earth could we talk about serious things +when your mouth was always full of macaroons?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Shakes her head.</i>] Ah, Torvald, the mouth of a mother of a family +should have more solemn things in it than macaroons! I see that now, too +late. No, you have wronged me. So did papa. Both of you called me a +doll, and a squirrel, and a lark! You might have made something of +me—and instead of that, you went and made too much of me—oh, you +<i>did</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer</span>.</center> + +<p>Well, you didn't seem to object to it, and really I don't exactly see +what it is you <i>do</i> want!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>No more do I—that is what I have got to find out. If I had been +properly educated, I should have known better than to date poor papa's +signature three days after he died. Now I must educate <i>myself</i>. I have +to gain experience, and get clear about religion, and law, and things, +and whether Society is right or I am—and I must go away and never come +back any more till I <i>am</i> educated!</p> + +<center><center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center></center> + +<p>Then you may be away some little time? And what's to become of me and +the eggs meanwhile?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>That, Torvald, is entirely your own affair. I have a higher duty than +that towards you and the eggs. [<i>Looking solemnly upward.</i>] I mean my +duty towards Myself!</p> + +<center><center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center></center> + +<p>And all this because—in a momentary annoyance at finding myself in the +power of a discharged cashier who calls me "I say, Torvald," I expressed +myself with ultra-Gilbertian frankness! You talk like a silly child!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Because my eyes are opened, and I see my position with the eyes of +Ibsen. I must go away at once, and begin to educate myself.</p> + +<center><center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center></center> + +<p>May I ask how you are going to set about it?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Certainly. I shall begin—yes, I shall <i>begin</i> with a course of the +Norwegian theatres. If <i>that</i> doesn't take the frivolity out of me, I +don't really know what <i>will</i>!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She gets her bonnet and ties it tightly.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Then you are really going? And you'll never think about me and the eggs +any more! Oh, Nora!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>Indeed, I shall—occasionally—as strangers. + +[<i>She puts on a shawl sadly, and fetches her dressing-bag.</i>] +If I ever do come back, the greatest miracle of all will have to happen. Good-bye!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes out through the hall; the front door is heard to bang +loudly.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sinking on a chair.</i>] The room empty? Then she must be gone! Yes, my +little lark has flown! [<i>The dull sound of an unskilled latchkey is +heard trying the lock; presently the door opens, and</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span>, <i>with a +somewhat foolish expression, reappears.</i>] What? back already! Then you +<i>are</i> educated?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nora</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Puts down dressing-bag.</i>] No, Torvald, not yet. Only, you see, I found +I had only threepence-halfpenny in my purse, and the Norwegian theatres +are all closed at this hour—and so I thought I wouldn't leave the cage +till to-morrow—after breakfast.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As if to himself.</i>] The greatest miracle of all has happened. My +little bird is not in the bush <i>just</i> yet!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>takes down a showily-bound dictionary from the shelf and begins +her education;</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span> <i>fetches a bag of macaroons, sits near her, and +tenders one humbly. A pause.</i> <span class="smcap">Nora</span> <i>repulses it, proudly. He offers it +again. She snatches at it suddenly, still without looking at him, and +nibbles it thoughtfully as Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="HEDDA_GABLER" id="HEDDA_GABLER"></a>HEDDA GABLER</h2> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FIRST2" id="ACT_FIRST2"></a>ACT FIRST</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>A sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours. Broad +doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a back +drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs a +posthumous portrait of the late</i> <span class="smcap">General Gabler</span>. <i>On the piano is a +handsome pall. Through the glass panes of the back drawing-room window +are seen a dead wall and a cemetery. Settees, sofas, chairs, &c., +handsomely upholstered in black bombazine, and studded with small round +nails. Bouquets of immortelles and dead grasses are lying everywhere +about.</i></p> + +<p class="direction"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Aunt Julie</span> (<i>a good-natured-looking lady in a smart hat.</i>)</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Aunt Julie.</span></center> + +<p>Well, I declare, if I believe George or Hedda are up yet! [<i>Enter</i> +<span class="smcap">George Tesman</span>, <i>humming, stout, careless, spectacled.</i>] Ah, my dear boy, +I have called before breakfast to inquire how you and Hedda are after +returning late last night from your long honeymoon. Oh, dear me, yes; am +I not your old aunt, and are not these attentions usual in Norway?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Good Lord, yes! My six months' honeymoon has been quite a little +travelling scholarship, eh? I have been examining archives. Think of +<i>that</i>! Look here, I'm going to write a book all about the domestic +interests of the Cave-dwellers during the Deluge. I'm a clever young +Norwegian man of letters, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Aunt Julie.</span></center> + +<p>Fancy your knowing about that too! Now, dear me, thank Heaven!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Let me, as a dutiful Norwegian nephew, untie that smart, showy hat of +yours. [<i>Unties it, and pats her under the chin.</i>] Well, to be sure, you +have got yourself really up—fancy that!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He puts hat on chair close to table.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Aunt Julie.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Giggling.</i>] It was for Hedda's sake—to go out walking with her in. +[<span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>approaches from the back-room; she is pallid, with cold, open, +steel-grey eyes; her hair is not very thick, but what there is of it is +an agreeable medium brown.</i>] Ah, dear Hedda!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She attempts to cuddle her.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shrinking back.</i>] Ugh, let me go, do! [<i>Looking at</i> <span class="smcap">Aunt Julie's</span> +<i>hat.</i>] Tesman, you must really tell the housemaid not to leave her old +hat about on the drawing-room chairs. Oh, is it <i>your</i> hat? Sorry I +spoke, I'm sure!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Aunt Julie.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Annoyed.</i>] Good gracious, little Mrs. Hedda; my nice new hat that I +bought to go out walking with <i>you</i> in!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Patting her on the back.</i>] Yes, Hedda, she did, and the parasol too! +Fancy, Aunt Julie always positively thinks of everything, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Coldly.</i>] You hold <i>your</i> tongue. Catch me going out walking with your +aunt! One doesn't <i>do</i> such things.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Beaming.</i>] Isn't she a charming woman? Such fascinating manners! My +goodness, eh? Fancy that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Aunt Julie.</span></center> + +<p>Ah, dear George, you ought indeed to be happy—but [<i>brings out a flat +package wrapped in newspaper</i>] look <i>here</i>, my dear boy!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Opens it.</i>] What? my dear old morning shoes! my slippers! [<i>Breaks +down.</i>] This is positively too touching, Hedda, eh? Do you remember how +badly I wanted them all the honeymoon? Come and just have a look at +them—you <i>may</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Bother your old slippers and your old aunt too! [<span class="smcap">aunt Julie</span> <i>goes out +annoyed, followed by</i> <span class="smcap">George</span>, <i>still thanking her warmly for the +slippers;</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>yawns;</i> <span class="smcap">George</span> <i>comes back and places his old slippers +reverently on the table.</i>] Why, here comes Mrs. Elvsted—<i>another</i> early +caller! She had irritating hair, and went about making a sensation with +it—an old flame of yours, I've heard.</p> + +<p class="direction"><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span>; <i>she is pretty and gentle, with copious wavy +white-gold hair and round prominent eyes, and the manner of a frightened +rabbit.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Nervous.</i>] Oh, please, I'm so perfectly in despair. Ejlert Lövborg, +you know, who was our tutor; he's written such a large new book. I +inspired him. Oh, I know I don't look like it—but I did—he told me so. +And, good gracious! now he's in this dangerous wicked town all alone, +and he's a reformed character, and I'm <i>so</i> frightened about him; so, as +the wife of a sheriff twenty years older than me, I came up to look +after Mr. Lövborg. Do ask him here—then I can meet him. You will? How +perfectly lovely of you! My husband's <i>so</i> fond of him!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>George, go and write an invitation at once; do you hear? [<span class="smcap">George</span> <i>looks +around for his slippers, takes them up and goes out.</i>] Now we can talk, +my little Thea. Do you remember how I used to pull your hair when we met +on the stairs, and say I would scorch it off? Seeing people with copious +hair always <i>does</i> irritate me.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Goodness, yes, you were always so playful and friendly, and I was so +afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've run away from my husband. +Everything around him was distasteful to me. And Mr. Lövborg and I were +comrades—he was dissipated, and I got a sort of power over him, and he +made a real person out of me—which I wasn't before, you know; but, oh, +I do hope I'm real now. He talked to me and taught me to think—chiefly +of him. So, when Mr. Lövborg came here, naturally I came too. There was +nothing else to do! And fancy, there is another woman whose shadow still +stands between him and me! She wanted to shoot him once, and so, of +course, he can never forget her. I wish I knew her name—perhaps it was +that red-haired opera-singer?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With cold self-command.</i>] Very likely—but nobody does that sort of +thing here. Hush! Run away now. Here comes Tesman with Judge Brack. +[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>goes out;</i> <span class="smcap">George</span> <i>comes in with</i> <span class="smcap">Judge Brack</span>, <i>who is a +short and elastic gentleman, with a round face, carefully brushed hair, +and distinguished profile.</i>] How awfully funny you do look by daylight, +Judge!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Holding his hat and dropping his eye-glass.</i>] Sincerest thanks. Still +the same graceful manners, dear little Mrs. Hed—Tesman! I came to +invite dear Tesman to a little bachelor-party to celebrate his return +from his long honeymoon. It is customary in Scandinavian society. It +will be a lively affair, for I am a gay Norwegian dog.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p89.png"> +<img src="images/p89.png" width="100%" alt="gay Norwegian dog" /></a> +<h3>"I am a gay Norwegian dog."</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Asked out—without my wife! Think of that! Eh? Oh, dear me, yes, <i>I</i>'ll +come!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>By the way, Lövborg is here; he has written a wonderful book, which has +made a quite extraordinary sensation. Bless me, yes!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Lövborg—fancy! Well, I <i>am</i>—glad. Such marvellous gifts! And I was so +painfully certain he had gone to the bad. Fancy that, eh? But what will +become of him <i>now</i>, poor fellow, eh? I am so anxious to know!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Well, he may possibly put up for the Professorship against you, and, +though you <i>are</i> an uncommonly clever man of letters—for a +Norwegian—it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>But, look here, good Lord, Judge Brack!—[<i>gesticulating</i>]—that would +show an incredible want of consideration for me! I married on my chance +of <i>getting</i> that professorship. A man like Lövborg, too, who hasn't +even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons here, +and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span>.] Oh, I say, Hedda, what's to become of our fairyland now, +eh? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner parties, or have a +horse for riding. Fancy that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Slowly, and wearily.</i>] No, we shall really have to set up as fairies +in reduced circumstances, now.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Cheering up.</i>] Still, we shall see Aunt Julie every day, and <i>that</i> +will be something, and I've got back my old slippers. We shan't be +altogether without some amusements, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Crosses the floor.</i>] Not while I have one thing to amuse myself with, +at all events.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Beaming with joy.</i>] Oh, Heaven be praised and thanked for that! My +goodness, so you have! And what may <i>that</i> be, Hedda, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>At the doorway, with suppressed scorn.</i>] Yes, George you have the old +slippers of the attentive aunt, and I have the horse-pistols of the +deceased general!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In an agony.</i>] The pistols! Oh, my goodness! <i>what</i> pistols?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With cold eyes.</i>] General Gabler's pistols—same which I +shot—[<i>recollecting herself</i>]—no, that's Thackeray, not Ibsen—a +<i>very</i> different person.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes through the back drawing-room.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>At doorway, shouting after her.</i>] Dearest Hedda, <i>not</i> those dangerous +things, eh? Why, they have never once been known to shoot straight yet! +Don't! Have a catapult. For <i>my</i> sake, have a catapult!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Curtain.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_SECOND2" id="ACT_SECOND2"></a>ACT SECOND</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Scene</span>—<i>The cheerful dark drawing-room. It is afternoon.</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>stands +loading a revolver in the back drawing-room</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Looking out and shouting.</i>] How do you do, Judge? [<i>Aims at him.</i>] +Mind yourself!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She fires.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Entering.</i>] What the devil! Do you usually take pot-shots at casual +visitors?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Annoyed.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda</span>.</center> + +<p>Invariably, when they come by the back-garden. It is my unconventional +way of intimating that I am at home. One does do these things in +realistic dramas, you know. And I was only aiming at the blue sky.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack</span>.</center> + +<p>Which accounts for the condition of my hat. [<i>Exhibiting it.</i>] Look +here—<i>riddled!</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Couldn't help myself. I am so horribly bored with Tesman. Everlastingly +to be with a professional person!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sympathetically.</i>] Our excellent Tesman is certainly a bit of a bore. +[<i>Looks searchingly at her.</i>] What on earth made you marry him?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Tired of dancing, my dear, that's all. And then I used Tesman to take me +home from parties; and we saw this villa; and I said I liked it, and so +did he; and so we found some common ground, and here we are, do you +see! And I loathe Tesman, and I don't even like the villa now; and I do +feel the want of an entertaining companion so!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Try me. Just the kind of three-cornered arrangement that I like. Let me +be the third person in the compartment—[<i>confidentially</i>]—the tried +friend, and, generally speaking, cock of the walk!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Audibly drawing in her breath.</i>] I cannot resist your polished way of +putting things. We will conclude a triple alliance. But hush!—here +comes Tesman.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">George</span> <i>with a number of books under his arm.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Puff! I <i>am</i> hot, Hedda. I've been looking into Lövborg's new book. +Wonderfully thoughtful—confound him! But I must go and dress for your +party, Judge.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>I wish I could get Tesman to take to politics, Judge. Couldn't he be a +Cabinet Minister, or something?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>H'm!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>A short pause; both look at one another, without speaking. Enter</i> +<span class="smcap">George</span>, <i>in evening dress with gloves.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>It is afternoon, and your party is at half-past seven—but I like to +dress early. Fancy that! And I am expecting Lövborg.</p> + +<p class="direction"><span class="smcap">Ejlert Lövborg</span> <i>comes in from the hall; he is worn and pale, with red +patches on his cheek-bones, and wears an elegant perfectly new +visiting-suit and black gloves.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Welcome! [<i>Introduces him to</i> <span class="smcap">Brack.</span>] Listen—I have got your new book, +but I haven't read it through yet.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg</span>.</center> + +<p>You needn't—it's rubbish. [<i>Takes a packet of MSS. out.</i>] This <i>isn't</i>. +It's in three parts; the first about the civilising forces of the +future, the second about the future of the civilising forces, and the +third about the forces of the future civilisation. I thought I'd read +you a little of it this evening?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">George</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Hastily.</i>] Awfully nice of you—but there's a little party this +evening—so sorry we can't stop! Won't you come too?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda</span>.</center> + +<p>No, he must stop and read it to me and Mrs. Elvsted instead.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George</span>.</center> + +<p>It would never have occurred to me to think of such clever things! Are +you going to oppose me for the professorship, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Modestly.</i>] No; I shall only triumph over you in the popular +judgment—that's all!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, is that all? Fancy! Let us go into the back drawing-room and drink +cold punch.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>Thanks—but I am a reformed character, and have renounced cold punch—it +is poison.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">George</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Brack</span> <i>go into the back-room and drink punch, whilst</i> +<span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>shows</i> <span class="smcap">Lövborg</span> <i>a photograph album in the front.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Slowly, in a low tone.</i>] Hedda Gabler! how <i>could</i> you throw yourself +away like this!—Oh, is <i>that</i> the Ortler Group? Beautiful!—— Have you +forgotten how we used to sit on the settee together behind an +illustrated paper, and—yes, very picturesque peaks—I told you all +about how I had been on the loose?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Now, none of that here! These are the Dolomites.—Yes, I remember; it +was a beautiful fascinating Norwegian intimacy—but it's over now. See, +we spent a night in that little mountain village, Tesman and I.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>Did you, indeed? Do you remember that delicious moment when you +threatened to shoot me down? [<i>Tenderly.</i>] I do!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Carelessly.</i>] Did I! I have done that to so many people. But now all +that is past, and you have found the loveliest consolation in dear, +good, little Mrs. Elvsted—ah, here she is! [<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span>] Now, +Thea, sit down and drink up a good glass of cold punch. Mr. Lövborg is +going to have some. If you don't, Mr. Lövborg, George and the Judge will +think you are afraid of taking too much if you once begin.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, please, Hedda! When I've inspired Mr. Lövborg so—good gracious! +<i>don't</i> make him drink cold punch!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>You see, Mr. Lövborg, our dear little friend can't trust you!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>So <i>that</i> is my comrade's faith in me! [<i>Gloomily.</i>] <i>I'll</i> show her if +I am to be trusted or not. [<i>He drinks a glass of punch.</i>] Now I'll go +to the Judge's party. I'll have another glass first. Your health, Thea! +So you came up to spy on me, eh? I'll drink the Sheriff's +health—<i>everybody's</i> health!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He tries to get more punch.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Stopping him.</i>] No more now. You are going to a party, remember.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">George</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Tesman</span> <i>come in from back-room.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>Don't be angry, Thea. I was fallen for a moment. Now I'm up again! [<span class="smcap">Mrs. +Elvsted</span> <i>beams with delight.</i>] Judge, I'll come to your party, as you +<i>are</i> so pressing, and I'll read George my manuscript all the evening. +I'll do all in <i>my</i> power to make that party go!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>No? fancy! that <i>will</i> be amusing!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>There, go away, you wild rollicking creatures! But Mr. Lövborg must be +back at ten, to take dear Thea home!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, goodness, yes! [<i>In concealed agony.</i>] Mr. Lövborg, I shan't go away +till you do!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>The three men go out laughing merrily; the Act-drop is lowered for a +minute; when it is raised, it is 7</i> <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> +<i>are discovered sitting up, with rugs around them.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Wearily.</i>] Seven in the morning, and Mr. Lövborg not here to take me +home <i>yet</i>! what can he be doing?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Yawning.</i>] Reading to Tesman, with vine-leaves in his hair, I suppose. +Perhaps he has got to the third part.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, do you <i>really</i> think so, Hedda. Oh, if I could but hope he was +doing that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>You silly little ninny! I should like to scorch your hair off. Go to +bed!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>goes. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">George.</span></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>I'm a little late, eh? But we made <i>such</i> a night of it. Fancy! It was +most amusing. Ejlert read his book to me—think of that! Astonishing +book! Oh, we really had great fun! I wish <i>I'd</i> written it. Pity he's +so irreclaimable.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>I suppose you mean he has more of the courage of life than most people?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Good Lord! He had the courage to get more drunk than most people. But, +altogether, it was what you might almost call a Bacchanalian orgy. We +finished up by going to have early coffee with some of these jolly +chaps, and poor old Lövborg dropped his precious manuscript in the mud, +and I picked it up—and here it is! Fancy if anything were to happen to +it! He never could write it again. <i>Wouldn't</i> it be sad, eh? Don't tell +any one about it.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He leaves the packet of MSS. on a chair, and rushes out</i>; <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> +<i>hides the packet as</i> <span class="smcap">Brack</span> <i>enters.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p><i>Another</i> early call, you see! My party was such a singularly animated +<i>soirée</i> that I haven't undressed all night. Oh, it was the liveliest +affair conceivable! And, like a true Norwegian host, I tracked Lövborg +home; and it is only my duty, as a friend of the house, and cock of the +walk, to take the first opportunity of telling you that he finished up +the evening by coming to mere loggerheads with a red-haired +opera-singer, and being taken off to the police-station! You mustn't +have him here any more. Remember our little triple alliance!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Her smile fading away.</i>] You are certainly a dangerous person—but you +must not get a hold over <i>me</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Ambiguously.</i>] What an idea! But I might—I am an insinuating dog. +Good morning!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Bursting in, confused and excited.</i>] I suppose you've heard where +<i>I've</i> been?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Evasively.</i>] I heard you had a very jolly party at Judge Brack's.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>comes in.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>It's all over. I don't mean to do any more work. I've no use for a +companion now, Thea. Go home to your sheriff!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Agitated.</i>] Never! I want to be with you when your book comes out!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>It won't <i>come</i> out—I've torn it up! [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>rushes out, +wringing her hands.</i>] Mrs. Tesman, I told her a lie—but no matter. I +haven't torn my book up—I've done worse! I've taken it about to +several parties, and it's been through a police-row with me—now I've +lost it. Even if I found it again, it wouldn't be the same—not to me! I +am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar. So I must make an end of it +altogether!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p109.png"> +<img src="images/p109.png" width="100%" alt="I am a Norwegian literary man" /></a> +<h3>"I am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar."</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Quite so—but look here, you must do it beautifully. I don't insist on +your putting vine-leaves in your hair—but do it beautifully. [<i>Fetches +pistol.</i>] See, here is one of General Gabler's pistols—do it with +<i>that</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Lövborg.</span></center> + +<p>Thanks!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He takes the pistol, and goes out through the hall-door; as soon as he +has gone</i>, <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>brings out the manuscript, and puts it on the fire, +whispering to herself, as Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_THIRD2" id="ACT_THIRD2"></a>ACT THIRD</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>The same room, but</i>—<i>it being evening</i>—<i>darker than ever. The +crape curtains are drawn. A servant, with black ribbons in her cap, and +red eyes, comes in and lights the gas quietly and carefully. Chords are +heard on the piano in the back drawing-room. Presently</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>comes in +and looks out into the darkness. A short pause. Enter</i> <span class="smcap">George Tesman.</span></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>I am <i>so</i> uneasy about poor Lövborg. Fancy! he is not at home. Mrs. +Elvsted told me he has been here early this morning, so I suppose you +gave him back his manuscript, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Cold and immovable, supported by arm-chair.</i>] No, I put it on the fire +instead.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>On the fire! Lövborg's wonderful new book that he read to me at Brack's +party, when we had that wild revelry last night! Fancy <i>that</i>! But, I +say, Hedda—isn't that <i>rather</i>—eh? <i>Too</i> bad, you know—really. A +great work like that. How on earth did you come to think of it?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Suppressing an almost imperceptible smile.</i>] Well, dear George, you +gave me a tolerably strong hint.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Me? Well, to be sure—that <i>is</i> a joke! Why, I only said that I envied +him for writing such a book, and it would put me entirely in the shade +if it came out, and if anything was to happen to it, I should never +forgive myself, as poor Lövborg couldn't write it all over again, and so +we must take the greatest care of it! And then I left it on a chair and +went away—that was all! And you went and burnt the book all up! Bless +me, who <i>would</i> have expected it?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Nobody, you dear simple old soul! But I did it for your sake—it was +<i>love</i>, George!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In an outburst between doubt and joy.</i>] Hedda, you don't mean that! +Your love takes such queer forms sometimes. Yes, but yes——[<i>laughing in +excess of joy</i>] why, you <i>must</i> be fond of me! Just think of that now! +Well, you <i>are</i> fun, Hedda! Look here, I must just run and tell the +housemaid that—she will enjoy the joke so, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Coldly, in self-command.</i>] It is surely not necessary even for a +clever Norwegian man of letters in a realistic social drama, to make +quite such a fool of himself as all that.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>No, that's true too. Perhaps we'd better keep it quiet—though I <i>must</i> +tell Aunt Julie—it will make her so happy to hear that you burnt a +manuscript on my account! And, besides, I should like to ask her whether +that's a usual thing with young wives. [<i>Looks uneasy and pensive +again.</i>] But poor old Ejlert's manuscript! Oh Lor', you know! Well, +well!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>comes in.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, please, I'm so uneasy about dear Mr. Lövborg. Something has happened +to him, I'm sure!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Judge Brack</span> <i>comes in from the hall, with a new hat in his hand.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>You have guessed it, first time. Something <i>has</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, dear, good gracious! What is it? Something distressing, I'm certain +of it!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Shrieks aloud.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Pleasantly.</i>] That depends on how one takes it. He has shot himself, +and is in a hospital now, that's all!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sympathetically.</i>] That's sad, eh? poor old Lövborg! Well, I <i>am</i> cut +up to hear that. Fancy, though, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Was it through the temple, or through the breast? The breast? Well, one +can do it beautifully through the breast, too. Do you know, as an +advanced woman, I like an act of that sort—it's so positive to have the +courage to settle the account with himself—it's beautiful, really!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, Hedda, what an odd way to look at it! But never mind poor dear Mr. +Lövborg now. What <i>we've</i> got to do is to see if we can't put his +wonderful manuscript, that he said he had torn to pieces, together +again. [<i>Takes a bundle of small pages out of the pocket of her +mantle.</i>] There are the loose scraps he dictated it to me from. I hid +them on the chance of some such emergency. And if dear Mr. Tesman and I +were to put our heads together, I <i>do</i> think something might come of it.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Fancy! I will dedicate my life—or all I can spare of it—to the task. I +seem to feel I owe him some slight amends, perhaps. No use crying over +spilt milk, eh, Mrs. Elvsted? We'll sit down—just you and I—in the +back drawing-room, and see if you can't inspire me as you did him, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, goodness, yes! I should like it—if it only might be possible!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">George</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>go into the back drawing-room and become +absorbed in eager conversation</i>; <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>sits in a chair in the front +room, and a little later</i> <span class="smcap">Brack</span> <i>crosses over to her</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In a low tone.</i>] Oh, Judge, <i>what</i> a relief to know that +everything—including Lövborg's pistol—went off so well! In the breast! +Isn't there a veil of unintentional beauty in that? Such an act of +voluntary courage, too!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Smiles.</i>] H'm!—perhaps, dear Mrs. Hedda——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Enthusiastically.</i>] But <i>wasn't</i> it sweet of him! To have the courage +to live his own life after his own fashion—to break away from the +banquet of life—<i>so</i> early and <i>so</i> drunk! A beautiful act like that +<i>does</i> appeal to a superior woman's imagination!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Sorry to shatter your poetical illusions, little Mrs. Hedda, but, as a +matter of fact, our lamented friend met his end under other +circumstances. The shot did <i>not</i> strike him in the <i>breast</i>—but——</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Pauses.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Excitedly.</i>] General Gabler's pistols! I might have known it! Did they +<i>ever</i> shoot straight? Where <i>was</i> he hit, then?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In a discreet undertone.</i>] A little lower down!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, <i>how</i> disgusting!—how vulgar!—how ridiculous!—like everything +else about me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, we're realistic types of human nature, and all that—but a trifle +squalid, perhaps. And why did you give Lövborg your pistol, when it was +certain to be traced by the police? For a charming cold-blooded woman +with a clear head and no scruples, wasn't it just a leetle foolish!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Perhaps; but I wanted him to do it beautifully, and he didn't! Oh, I've +just admitted that I <i>did</i> give him the pistol—how annoyingly unwise of +me! Now I'm in <i>your</i> power, I suppose?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>Precisely—for some reason it's not easy to understand. But it's +inevitable, and you know how you dread anything approaching scandal. All +your past proceedings show that. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">George</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>who +come in together from the back-room.</i>] Well, how are you getting on with +the reconstruction of poor Lövborg's great work, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>Capitally; we've made out the first two parts already. And really, +Hedda, I do believe Mrs. Elvsted <i>is</i> inspiring me; I begin to feel it +coming on. Fancy that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, goodness! Hedda, <i>won't</i> it be lovely if I can. I mean to try <i>so</i> +hard!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>Do, you dear little silly rabbit; and while you are trying I will go +into the back drawing-room and lie down.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes into the back room and draws the curtains. Short pause. +Suddenly she is heard playing</i> "The Bogie Man" <i>within on the piano.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>But, dearest Hedda, don't play "<i>The Bogie Man</i>" this evening. As one of +my aunts is dead, and poor old Lövborg has shot himself, it seems just a +little pointed, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Puts her head out between the curtains.</i>] All right. +I'll be quiet after this. I'm going to +practise with the late General Gabler's pistol!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Closes the curtains again;</i> <span class="smcap">George</span> <i>gets behind the stove</i>, <span class="smcap">Judge +Brack</span> <i>under the table, and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted</span> <i>under the sofa. A shot is +heard within.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">George.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Behind the stove.</i>] Eh, look here, I tell you what—she's hit me! +Think of that!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>His legs are visibly agitated for a short time. Another shot is +heard.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Elvsted.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Under the sofa.</i>] Oh, please, not me! Oh, goodness, now I can't +inspire anybody any more. Oh!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Her feet, which can be seen under the valance, quiver a little and +then are suddenly still.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Brack.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Vivaciously, from under the table.</i>] I say, Mrs. Hedda, I'm coming in +every evening—we will have great fun here togeth—— [<i>Another shot is +heard.</i>] Bless me! to bring down the poor old cock-of-the-walk—it's +unsportsmanlike!—people don't <i>do</i> such things as that!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>The table-cloth is violently agitated for a minute, and presently the +curtains open, and</i> <span class="smcap">Hedda</span> <i>appears.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Clearly and firmly.</i>] I've been trying in there to shoot myself +beautifully—but with General Gabler's pistol—[<i>She lifts the +table-cloth, then looks behind the stove and under the sofa.</i>] What! the +accounts of all those everlasting bores settled? Then my suicide becomes +unnecessary. Yes, I feel the courage of life once more!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes into the back-room and plays</i> "The Funeral March of a +Marionette" <i>as the Curtain falls.</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p121.png"> +<img src="images/p121.png" width="100%" alt="accounts of bores settled" /></a> +<h3>"What! the accounts of all those everlasting bores +settled?"</h3> +</div> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="THE_WILD_DUCK" id="THE_WILD_DUCK"></a>THE WILD DUCK</h2> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FIRST3" id="ACT_FIRST3"></a>ACT FIRST</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>At</i> <span class="smcap">Werle's</span> <i>house. In front a richly-upholstered study.</i> (<span class="smcap">R.</span>) <i>A green +baize door leading to</i> <span class="smcap">Werle's</span> <i>office. At back, open folding doors, +revealing an elegant dining-room, in which a brilliant Norwegian +dinner-party is going on. Hired Waiters in profusion. A glass is tapped +with a knife. Shouts of "Bravo!" Old Mr.</i> <span class="smcap">Werle</span> <i>is heard making a long +speech, proposing—according to the custom of Norwegian society on such +occasions—the health of his House-keeper, </i> Mrs.<span class="smcap"> Sörby.</span> <i>Presently +several short-sighted, flabby, and thin-haired</i> +<span class="smcap">Chamberlains</span> <i>enter from the dining-room with</i> <span class="smcap">Hialmar Ekdal</span>, <i>who +writhes shyly under their remarks.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">A Chamberlain.</span></center> + +<p>As we are the sole surviving specimens of Norwegian nobility, suppose we +sustain our reputation as aristocratic sparklers by enlarging upon the +enormous amount we have eaten, and chaffing Hialmar Ekdal, the friend of +our host's son, for being a professional photographer?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The other Chamberlains.</span></center> + +<p>Bravo! We will.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>They do; delight of</i> <span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span> <span class="smcap">Old Werle</span> <i>comes in, leaning on his +Housekeeper's arm, followed by his son,</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers Werle.</span></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Old Werle.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Dejectedly.</i>] Thirteen at table! [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers</span>, <i>with a meaning glance +at</i> <span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span>] This is the result of inviting an old college friend who +has turned photographer! Wasting vintage wines on <i>him</i>, indeed.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He passes on gloomily.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers</span>.] I am almost sorry I came. Your old man is <i>not</i> +friendly. Yet he set me up as a photographer fifteen years ago. <i>Now</i> he +takes me down! But for him, I should never have married Gina, who, you +may remember, was a servant in your family once.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers</span>.</center> + +<p>What? my old college friend married fifteen years ago—and to our Gina, +of all people! If I had not been up at the works all these years, I +suppose I should have heard something of such an event. But my father +never mentioned it. Odd!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He ponders</i>; <span class="smcap">Old Ekdal</span> <i>comes out through the green baize-door, +bowing, and begging pardon, carrying copying work</i>. <span class="smcap">Old +Werle</span> <i>says +"Ugh" and "Pah" involuntarily.</i> <span class="smcap">Hialmar</span> <i>shrinks back, and looks another +way. A</i> <span class="smcap">Chamberlain</span> <i>asks him pleasantly if he knows that old man.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>I—oh no. Not in the least. No relation!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shocked.</i>] What, Hialmar, you, with your great soul, deny your own +father!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Vehemently.</i>] Of course—what else <i>can</i> a photographer do with a +disreputable old parent, who has been in a penitentiary for making a +fraudulent map? I shall leave this splendid banquet. The Chamberlains +are not kind to me, and I feel the crushing hand of fate on my head!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes out hastily, feeling it.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Sörby.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Archly.</i>] Any nobleman here say "Cold Punch"?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Every nobleman says "Cold Punch" and follows her out in search of it +with enthusiasm.</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers</span> <i>approaches his father, who wishes he would +go</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>Father, a word with you in private. I loathe you. I am nothing if not +candid. Old Ekdal was your partner once, and it's my firm belief you +deserved a prison quite as much as he did. However, you surely need not +have married our Gina to my old friend Hialmar. You know very well she +was no better than she should have been!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p131.png"> +<img src="images/p131.png" width="100%" alt="I loathe you." /></a> +<h3>"Father, a word with you in private:<br /> +I loathe you."</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Old Werle.</span></center> + +<p>True—but then no more is Mrs. Sörby. And <i>I</i> am going to marry +<i>her</i>—if you have no objection, that is.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>None in the world! How can I object to a step-mother who is playing +Blind Man's Buff at the present moment with the Norwegian nobility? I am +not so overstrained as all that. But really I can<i>not</i> allow my old +friend Hialmar, with his great, confiding, childlike mind, to remain in +contented ignorance of Gina's past. No, I see my mission in life at +last! I shall take my hat, and inform him that his home is built upon a +lie. He will be <i>so</i> much obliged to me!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes his hat, and goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Old Werle.</span></center> + +<p>Ha!—I am a wealthy merchant, of dubious morals, and I am about to marry +my house-keeper, who is on intimate terms with the Norwegian +aristocracy. I have a son who loathes me, and who is either an Ibsenian +satire on the Master's own ideals, or else an utterly impossible prig—I +don't know or care which. Altogether, I flatter myself my household +affords an accurate and realistic picture of Scandinavian Society!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Curtain.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_SECOND3" id="ACT_SECOND3"></a>ACT SECOND</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Hialmar Ekdal's</span> <i>Photographic Studio. Cameras, neck-rests, and other +instruments of torture lying about.</i> <span class="smcap">Gina Ekdal</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span>, <i>her +daughter, aged 14, and wearing spectacles, discovered sitting up for</i> +<span class="smcap">Hialmar</span>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>Grandpapa is in his room with a bottle of brandy and a jug of hot water, +doing some fresh copying work. Father is in society, dining out. He +promised he would bring me home something nice!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Coming in, in evening dress.</i>] And he has not forgotten his promise, +my child. Behold! [<i>He presents her with the menu card</i>; <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>gulps +down her tears</i>; <span class="smcap">Hialmar</span> <i>notices her disappointment, with annoyance</i>.] +And this all the gratitude I get! After dining out and coming home in a +dress-coat and boots, which are disgracefully tight! Well well, just to +show you how hurt I am, I won't have any <i>beer</i> now! What a selfish +brute I am! [<i>Relenting.</i>] You may bring me just a little drop. [<i>He +bursts into tears.</i>] I will play you a plaintive Bohemian dance on my +flute. [<i>He does.</i>] No beer at such a sacred moment as this! [<i>He +drinks.</i>] Ha, this is real domestic bliss!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Gregers Werle</span> <i>comes in, in a countrified suit</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>I have left my father's home—dinner-party and all—for ever. I am +coming to lodge with you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Still melancholy.</i>] Have some bread and butter. You won't?—then I +<i>will</i>. I want it, after your father's lavish hospitality. [<span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> +<i>goes to fetch bread and butter</i>.] My daughter—a poor short-sighted +little thing—but mine own.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>My father has had to take to strong glasses, too—he can hardly see +after dinner. [<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Old Ekdal</span>, <i>who stumbles in very drunk</i>.] How can +you, Lieutenant Ekdal, who were such a keen sportsman once, live in this +poky little hole?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Old Ekdal.</span></center> + +<p>I am a sportsman still. The only difference is that once I shot bears in +a forest, and now I pot tame rabbits in a garret. Quite as amusing—and +safer.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes to sleep on a sofa.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With pride.</i>] It is quite true. You shall see.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He pushes back sliding doors, and reveals a garret full of rabbits and +poultry—moonlight effect.</i> <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>returns with bread and butter</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers</span>.] If you stand just there, you get the best view of our +Wild Duck. We are very proud of her, because she gives the play its +title, you know, and has to be brought into the dialogue a good deal. +Your father peppered her out shooting, and we saved her life.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar</span>.</center> + +<p>Yes, Gregers, our estate is not large—but still we preserve, you see. +And my poor old father and I sometimes get a day's gunning in the +garret. He shoots with a pistol, which my illiterate wife here <i>will</i> +call a "pigstol." He once, when he got into trouble, pointed it at +himself. But the descendant of two lieutenant-colonels who had never +quailed before living rabbit yet, faltered then. He <i>didn't</i> shoot. Then +I put it to my own head. But at the decisive moment, I won the victory +over myself. I remained in life. Now we only shoot rabbits and fowls +with it. After all I am very happy and contented as I am.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He eats some bread and butter.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers</span>.</center> + +<p>But you ought <i>not</i> to be. You have a good deal of the Wild Duck about +you. So have your wife and daughter. You are living in marsh vapours. +Tomorrow I will take you out for a walk and explain what I mean. It is +my mission in life. Good night!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina and Hedwig</span>.</center> + +<p>What <i>was</i> the gentleman talking about, father?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Eating bread and butter.</i>] He has been dining, you know. No +matter—what <i>we</i> have to do now, is to put my disreputable old +whitehaired pariah of a parent to bed.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He and</i> <span class="smcap">Gina</span> <i>lift</i> <span class="smcap">Old Eccles</span>—<i>we mean</i> Old <span class="smcap">Ekdal</span>—<i>up by the legs +and arms, and take him off to bed as the Curtain falls</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_THIRD3" id="ACT_THIRD3"></a>ACT THREE</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Hialmar's</span> <i>Studio. A photograph has just been taken.</i> <span class="smcap">Gina</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> +<i>are tidying up.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Apologetically.</i>] There <i>should</i> have been a luncheon-party in this +act, with Dr. Relling and Mölvik, who would have been in a state of +comic "chippiness," after his excesses overnight. But, as it hadn't much +to do with such plot as there is, we cut it out. It came cheaper. Here +comes your father back from his walk with that lunatic, young Werle—you +had better go and play with the Wild Duck.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>goes</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Coming in.</i>] I have been for a walk with Gregers; he meant well—but +it was tiring. Gina, he has told me that, fifteen years ago, before I +married you, you were rather a Wild Duck, so to speak. [<i>Severely.</i>] Why +haven't you been writhing in penitence and remorse all these years, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sensibly.</i>] Why? Because I have had other things to do. <i>You</i> wouldn't +take any photographs, so I <i>had</i> to.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>All the same—it was a swamp of deceit. And where am I to find +elasticity of spirit to bring out my grand invention now? I used to shut +myself up in the parlour, and ponder and cry, when I thought that the +effort of inventing anything would sap my vitality. [<i>Pathetically.</i>] I +<i>did</i> want to leave you an inventor's widow; but I never shall now, +particularly as I haven't made up my mind what to invent yet. Yes, it's +all over. Rabbits are trash, and even poultry palls. And I'll wring that +cursed Wild Duck's neck!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Coming in beaming.</i>] Well, so you've got it over. <i>Wasn't</i> it soothing +and ennobling, eh? and <i>ain't</i> you both obliged to me?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>No; it's my opinion you'd better have minded your own business.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Weeps.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In great surprise.</i>] Bless me! Pardon my Norwegian <i>naïveté</i>, but this +ought really to be quite a new starting-point. Why, I confidently +expected to have found you both beaming!—Mrs. Ekdal, being so +illiterate, may take some little time to see it—but you, Hialmar, with +your deep mind, surely <i>you</i> feel a new consecration, eh?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Dubiously.</i>] Oh—er—yes. I suppose so—in a sort of way.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>runs in, overjoyed.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>Father, only see what Mrs. Sörby has given me for a birthday present—a +beautiful deed of gift!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Shows it.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Eluding her.</i>] Ha! Mrs. Sörby, the family house-keeper. My father's +sight failing! Hedvig in goggles! What vistas of heredity these +astonishing coincidences open up! <i>I</i> am not short-sighted, at all +events, and I see it all—all! <i>This</i> is my answer. [<i>He takes the deed, +and tears it across.</i>] Now I have nothing more to do in this house. +[<i>Puts on overcoat.</i>] My home has fallen in ruins about me. [<i>Bursts +into tears.</i>] My hat!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, but you <i>mustn't</i> go. You must be all three together, to attain the +true frame of mind for self-sacrificing forgiveness, you know!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>Self-sacrificing forgiveness be blowed!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He tears himself away, and goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With despairing eyes.</i>] Oh, he said it might be blowed! Now he'll +<i>never</i> come home any more!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>Shall I tell you how to regain your father's confidence, and bring him +home surely? Sacrifice the Wild Duck.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>Do you think that will do any good?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>You just <i>try</i> it!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Curtain.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FOURTH" id="ACT_FOURTH"></a>ACT FOURTH</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Same Scene.</i> <span class="smcap">Gregers</span> <i>enters, and finds</i> <span class="smcap">Gina</span> <i>retouching photographs</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Pleasantly.</i>] Hialmar not come in yet, after last night, I suppose?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>Not he! He's been out on the loose all night with Relling and Mölvik. +Now he's snoring on their sofa.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Disappointed.</i>] Dear!—dear!—when he ought to be yearning to wrestle +in solitude and self-examination!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Rudely.</i>] Self-examine your grandmother!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>She goes out</i>; <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>comes in</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span>.] Ah, I see you haven't found courage to settle the Wild +Duck yet!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>No—it seemed such a delightful idea at first. Now it strikes me as a +trifle—well, <i>Ibsenish</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Reprovingly.</i>] I <i>thought</i> you hadn't grown up quite unharmed in this +house! But if you really had the true, joyous spirit of self-sacrifice, +you'd have a shot at that Wild Duck, if you died for it!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Slowly.</i>] I see; you mean that my constitution's changing, and I ought +to behave as such?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"—but <i>I</i> believe in +you, Hedvig.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes into the +garret with flashing eyes</i>; <span class="smcap">Gina</span> <i>comes in</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looking in at door with hesitation; he is unwashed and dishevelled.</i>] +Has anybody happened to see my hat?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>Gracious, what a sight you are! Sit down and have some breakfast, do.</p> +<p class="direction">[<i>She brings it.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Indignantly.</i>] What! touch food under <i>this</i> roof? Never! [<i>Helps +himself to bread-and-butter and coffee.</i>] Go and pack up my scientific +uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my +portmanteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay +in the spare room for another day or two—it won't be the same as living +with you!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He takes some salt meat.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p><i>Must</i> you go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build +upon—thanks to me! Then there's your great invention, too.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention +because, although it doesn't exist yet, I thought Hedvig believed in it, +with all the strength of her sweet little short-sighted eyes! But now I +don't believe in Hedvig!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He pours himself out another cup of coffee.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Earnestly.</i>] But, Hialmar, if I can prove to you that she is ready to +sacrifice her cherished Wild Duck? See!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers</i> <span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>aiming at the</i> +Wild Duck <i>with the butt-end of the pistol. Tableau.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Excitedly.</i>] But don't you <i>see</i>? It's the pigstol—that fatal +Norwegian weapon which, in Ibsenian dramas, <i>never</i> shoots straight! And +she has got it by the wrong end too. She will shoot herself!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Quietly.</i>] She will! Let the child make amends. It will be a most +realistic and impressive finale!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>No, no—put down the pigstol, Hedvig. Do you hear, child?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hedvig.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Still aiming.</i>] I hear—but I shan't unless father tells me to.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>Hialmar, show the great soul I always <i>said</i> you had. This sorrow will +set free what is noble in you. Don't spoil a fine situation. Be a man! +Let the child shoot herself!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Irresolutely.</i>] Well, really, I don't know. There's a good deal in +what Gregers says. H'm!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gina.</span></center> + +<p>A good deal of tomfool rubbish! I'm illiterate, I know. I've been a Wild +Duck in my time, and I waddle. But for all that, I'm the only person in +the play with a grain of common-sense. And I'm sure—whatever Mr. Ibsen +or Gregers choose to say—that a screaming burlesque like this ought +<i>not</i> to end like a tragedy—even in this queer Norway of ours! And it +shan't, either! Tell the child to put that nasty pigstol down, and come +away—do!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p151.png"> +<img src="images/p151.png" width="100%" alt="Put that nasty pigstol down" /></a> +<h3>"Put that nasty pigstol down!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Yielding.</i>] Ah, well, I am a farcical character myself, after all. +Don't touch a hair of that duck's head, Hedvig. Come to my arms and all +shall be forgiven!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hedvig</span> <i>throws down the pistol—which goes off and kills a rabbit—and +rushes into her father's arms</i>. Old <span class="smcap">Ekdal</span> <i>comes out of a corner with a +fowl on each shoulder, and bursts into tears. Affecting family picture.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Gregers.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Annoyed.</i>] It's all very pretty, I dare say—but it's not Ibsen! My +real mission is to be the thirteenth at table. I don't know what I +mean—but I fly to fulfil it!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He goes.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hialmar.</span></center> + +<p>And now we've got rid of <i>him</i>, Hedvig, fetch me the deed of gift I tore +up, and a slip of paper, and a penny bottle of gum, and we'll soon make +a valid instrument of it again.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain slowly descends.</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<h2><a name="PILL-DOCTOR_HERDAL" id="PILL-DOCTOR_HERDAL"></a>PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL</h2> + +<blockquote>[<span class="smcap">Prefatory Note.</span>—The original title—<i>Mester-Pjil-drögster +Herdal</i>—would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is +therefore modified as above, although the term "drögster," strictly +speaking, denotes a practitioner who has not received a regular +diploma].</blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_FIRST4" id="ACT_FIRST4"></a>ACT FIRST</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>An elegantly furnished drawing-room at</i> Dr. <span class="smcap">Herdal's</span>. <i>In front, on the +left, a console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of coloured +water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of a +richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and a +small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand: in +another, a desk, at which stands</i> <span class="smcap">Senna Blakdraf</span>, <i>making out the +quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the +Dispensary, where</i> <span class="smcap">Rübub Kalomel</span> <i>is seated, occupied in rolling a pill. +Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a half.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Haustus Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a plain sensible +countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression.</i>] Come here Miss +Blakdraf. [<i>Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a divan.</i>] Have +you made out all those bills yet?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Looks sternly at her.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In a low hesitating voice.</i>] Almost. I have charged each patient with +three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of tea +and a chat. [<i>Passionately.</i>] I felt I <i>must</i>—I <i>must</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and whispers.</i>] I wish +you could make out the bills for me, <i>always</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In nervous exaltation.</i>] How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so +unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Sinks down and embraces his knees.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>So I've understood. [<i>With suppressed irritation.</i>] For goodness' sake, +let go my legs! I do <i>wish</i> you wouldn't be so confoundedly neurotic!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p161.png"> +<img src="images/p161.png" width="100%" alt="let go my legs" /></a> +<h3>"For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with difficulty; +he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a harelip, and +squints slightly.</i>] I beg pardon, Dr. Herdal, I see I interrupt you. +[<i>As</i> <span class="smcap">Senna</span> <i>rises</i>.] I have just completed this pill. Have you looked +at it?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He offers it for inspection, diffidently.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Evasively.</i>] It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Cast down.</i>] All these years you have never given me one encouraging +word! <i>Can't</i> you praise my pill?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Struggles with himself.</i>] I—I cannot. You should not attempt to +compound pills on your own account.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Breathing laboriously.</i>] And yet there was a time when <i>you</i>, too——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Complacently.</i>] Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a lucky +stepping stone—but not a pill like that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Vehemently.</i>] Listen! Is that your last word? <i>Is</i> my aged mother to +pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to +construct an effective pill or not?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As if in desperation.</i>] You had better try it upon your mother—it +will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind—I will not be responsible +for the result.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>I understand. Exactly as you tried <i>your</i> pill, all those years ago, +upon Dr. Ryval.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He bows and goes out.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Uneasily.</i>] He said that so strangely, Senna. But tell me now—when +are you going to marry him?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Starts—half glancing up at him.</i>] I—I don't know. This year—next +year—now—<i>never</i>! I cannot marry him ... I cannot—I <i>cannot</i>—it is +so utterly impossible to leave you!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, I can understand <i>that</i>. But, my poor Senna, hadn't you better take +a little walk?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Clasps her hands gratefully.</i>] How sweet and thoughtful you are to me! +I <i>will</i> take a walk.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With a suppressed smile.</i>] Do! And—h'm!—you needn't trouble to come +back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper—they are less emotional. +Good-night, my little Senna!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Softly and quiveringly.</i>] Good-night, Dr. Herdal!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Staggers out of hall-door, blowing kisses.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Enters through the window, plaintively.</i>] Quite an acquisition for +you, Haustus, this Miss Blakdraf!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>She's—h'm—extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting with her, +Aline—mainly on <i>your</i> account.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Evades him.</i>] Was it on my account, indeed, Haustus? You have parted +with so many young persons on my account—so you tell me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Depressed.</i>] Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so hard to +bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give Rübub +Kalomel notice too—his pill is really too preposterous!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor.</i>] Him, <i>too</i>! +Ah, Haustus, you will never make my home a real home for me. My poor +first husband, Halvard Solness, tried—and <i>he</i> couldn't! When one has +had such misfortunes as I have—all the family portraits burnt, and the +silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Chokes with tears.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>As if to lead her away from the subject.</i>] Yes, yes, yes, that must +have been a heavy blow for you, my poor Aline. I can understand that +your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master +Builder Solness to be so taken up with that Miss Wangel as he was—that, +too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did +that day ten years ago——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>Yes, that too, Haustus. But I did not mind it so much—it all seemed so +perfectly natural in both of them.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>Natural! For a girl of twenty three to taunt a middle-aged architect, +whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never to let +him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as himself—and +all for the fun of seeing him fall off—how in the world——!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch.</i>] The younger +generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, Haustus, +and perhaps after all, she was only a perplexing sort of allegory.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how <i>he</i> could +be such an old fool!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>That Miss Wangel was a strangely fascinating type of girl. Why, even I +myself——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sits down and takes some fish.</i>] Fascinating? Well, goodness knows, I +couldn't see <i>that</i> at all. [<i>Seriously.</i>] Has it never struck you, +Aline, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable—mere +bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of +course, the Medical Profession.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined to gangle. +And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you have——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Drinks a glass of punch.</i>] You're right enough there. If I had not +been called in to prescribe for Dr. Ryval, who used to have the leading +practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his +shoes as I did. [<i>Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment.</i>] Let +me tell you a funny story, Aline; it sounds a ludicrous thing—but all +my good fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. +Ryval had never taken it——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Anxiously.</i>] Then you <i>do</i> think it was the pill that caused him +to——?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>On the contrary; I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing whatever to do +with it—the inquest made it quite clear that it was really the +liniment. But don't you see, Aline, what tortures me night and day is +the thought that it <i>might</i> unconsciously have been the pill which—— +Never to be free from <i>that</i>! To have such a thought gnawing and burning +always—always, like a moral mustard plaster!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>He takes more punch.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on every +breast—and we must never take it off either—it is our simple duty to +keep it on. I too, Haustus, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss +Wangel were to ring at our bell now——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe enough in +some sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she <i>did</i> come? Do you +think, my dear good woman, that I—a sensible clear-headed general +practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself—would let her +play the deuce with me as she did with poor Halvard? No, general +practitioners don't <i>do</i> such things—even in Norway!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Don't they indeed, Haustus? [<i>The surgery-bell rings loudly.</i>] Did you +hear <i>that</i>? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is my +duty to show her <i>that</i> small attention.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Laughing nervously.</i>] Why, what on earth!—— It's the night-bell. It +is most probably the new book-keeper! [<span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span> <i>goes out</i>; <span class="smcap">Dr. +Herdal</span> <i>rises with difficulty, and opens the door</i>.] Goodness +gracious!—it is that girl, after all!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hilda Wangel</span> <i>enters through the dispensary door. She wears a divided +skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o' Shanter with an eagle's wing in it. +Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a +rug in a strap. Goes straight up to</i> <span class="smcap">Herdal</span>, <i>her eyes sparkling with +happiness</i>.</p> + +<p>How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are +up. Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Politely retreating.</i>] It is—very much so—but still I don't in the +least understand——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Measures him with a glance.</i>] Oh, you <i>will</i>. I have come to be of use +to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that <i>that</i> makes any +difference. I never <i>have</i>. And I've been allured and attracted here. +You surely know how these things come about?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Throws her arms round him.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>What the deuce! Miss Wangel, you <i>mustn't</i>. I'm a married man! There's +my wife!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span> <i>enters</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>As if <i>that</i> mattered—it's only dear, sweet Mrs. Solness. <i>She</i> doesn't +mind—<i>do</i> you, dear Mrs. Solness?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>It does not seem to be of much <i>use</i> minding, Miss Wangel. I presume you +have come to stay?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>In amused surprise.</i>] Why, of course—what else should I come for? I +<i>always</i> come to stay, until—h'm! [<i>Nods slowly, and sits down at +table.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Involuntarily.</i>] She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm going to +stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a +pill-doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master +Builder!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hilda</span> <i>finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes, +and</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span> <i>looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_SECOND4" id="ACT_SECOND4"></a>ACT SECOND</h3> + +<p class="hangindent"><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal's</span> <i>drawing-room and dispensary, as before. It is early in the +day.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span> <i>sits by the little table, taking his own temperature +with a clinical thermometer. By the door stands the</i> <span class="smcap">New Book-keeper</span>; +<i>he wears blue spectacles and a discoloured white tie, and seems +slightly nervous</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Well, now you understand what is necessary. My late book-keeper, Miss +Blakdraf, used to keep my accounts very cleverly—she charged every +visit twice over.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Book-keeper.</span></center> + +<p>I am familiar with book-keeping by double entry. I was once employed at +a bank.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>I am discharging my assistant, too; he was always trying to push me out +with his pills. Perhaps you will be able to dispense?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Book-keeper.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Modestly.</i>] With an additional salary, I should be able to do that +too.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Capital! You <i>shall</i> dispense with an additional salary. Go into the +dispensary, and see what you can make of it. You may mistake a few drugs +at first—but everything must have a beginning.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>As the</i> <span class="smcap">New Book-keeper</span> <i>retires</i>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span> <i>enters in a hat and +cloak with a watering-pot, noiselessly</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Miss Wangel got up early, before breakfast, and went for a walk. She is +so wonderfully vivacious!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>So I should say. But tell me, Aline, is she <i>really</i> going to stay with +us here?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Nervously.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks at him.</i>] So she tells me. And, as she has brought nothing with +her except a tooth-brush and a powder-puff, I am going into the town to +get her a few articles. We <i>must</i> make her feel at home.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Breaking out.</i>] I <i>will</i> make her not only <i>feel</i> but <i>be</i> at home, +wherever that is, this very day! I will <i>not</i> have a perambulating +Allegory without a portmanteau here on an indefinite visit. I say, she +shall go—do you hear, Aline? Miss Wangel will go!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Raps with his fist on table.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Quietly.</i>] If you say so, Haustus, no doubt she will <i>have</i> to go. But +you must tell her so yourself.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Puts the watering-pot on the console table, and goes out, as</i> <span class="smcap">Hilda</span> +<i>enters, sparkling with pleasure</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Goes up straight to him.</i>] Good morning, Dr. Herdal. I have just seen +a pig killed. It was <i>ripping</i>—I mean, gloriously thrilling! And your +wife has taken a tremendous fancy to me. Fancy <i>that</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Gloomily.</i>] It <i>is</i> eccentric certainly. But my poor dear wife was +always a little——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Nods her head slowly several times.</i>] So <i>you</i> have noticed that too? +I have had a long talk with her. She can't get over your discharging Mr. +Kalomel—he is the only man who ever <i>really</i> understood her.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>If I could only pay her off a little bit of the huge, immeasurable debt +I owe her—but I can't!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks hard at him.</i>] Can't <i>I</i> help you? I helped Ragnar Brovik. +Didn't you know I stayed with him and poor little Kaia—after that +accident to my Master Builder? I did. I made Ragnar build me the +loveliest castle in the air—lovelier, even, than poor Mr. Solness's +would have been—and we stood together on the very top. The steps were +rather too much for Kaia. Besides, there was no room for her on top. And +he put towering spires on all his semi-detached villas. Only, somehow, +they didn't let. Then the castle in the air tumbled down, and Ragnar +went into liquidation, and I continued my walking-tour.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Interested against his will.</i>] And where did you go after <i>that</i>, may +I ask, Miss Wangel?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, ever so far north. There I met Mr. and Mrs. Tesman—the second Mrs. +Tesman—she who was Mrs. Elvsted, with the irritating hair, you know. +They were on their honeymoon, and had just decided that it was +impossible to reconstruct poor Mr. Lövborg's great book out of Mrs. +Elvsted's rough notes. But I insisted on George's attempting the +impossible—with Me. And what <i>do</i> you think Mrs. Tesman wears in her +hair <i>now</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Why, really I could not say. Vine-leaves, perhaps.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Wrong—<i>straws</i>! Poor Tesman <i>didn't</i> fancy that—so he shot himself, +<i>un</i>-beautifully, through his ticket-pocket. And I went on and took +Rosmershölm for the summer. There had been misfortune in the house, so +it was to let. Dear good old Rector Kroll acted as my reference; his +wife and children had no sympathy with his views, so I used to see him +every day. And I persuaded him, too, to attempt the impossible—he had +never ridden anything but a rocking-horse in his life, but I made him +promise to mount the White Horse of Rosmershölm. He didn't get over +<i>that</i>. They found his body, a fortnight afterwards, in the mill-dam. +Thrilling!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shakes his finger at her.</i>] What a girl you are, Miss Wangel! But you +mustn't play these games <i>here</i>, you know.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Laughs to herself.</i>] Of course not. But I suppose I <i>am</i> a strange +sort of bird.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>You are like a strong tonic. When I look at you I seem to be regarding +an effervescing saline draught. Still, I really must decline to take +you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>A little sulky.</i>] That is not how you spoke ten years ago, up at the +mountain station, when you were such a flirt!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p><i>Was</i> I a flirt? Deuce take me if I remember. But I am not like that +<i>now</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Then you have really forgotten how you sat next to me at the <i>table +d'hôte</i>, and made pills and swallowed them, and were so splendid and +buoyant and free that all the old women who knitted left next day?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>What a memory you have for trifles, Miss Wangel; it's quite wonderful!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Trifles! There was no trifling on <i>your</i> part. When you promised to come +back in ten years, like a troll, and fetch me!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Did I say all that? It <i>must</i> have been <i>after table d'hôte</i>!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>It was. I was a mere chit then—only twenty-three; but <i>I</i> remember. And +now <i>I</i> have come for <i>you</i>.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Dear, dear! But there is nothing of the troll about me now I have +married Mrs. Solness.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looking sharply at him.</i>] Yes, I remember you were always dropping in +to tea in those days.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Seems hurt.</i>] Every visit was duly put down in the ledger and charged +for—as poor little Senna will tell you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Little Senna? Oh, Dr. Herdal, I believe there is a bit of the troll left +in you still!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Laughs a little.</i>] No, no; my conscience is perfectly robust—always +was.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Are you quite <i>quite</i> sure that, when you went indoors with dear Mrs. +Solness that afternoon, and left me alone with my Master Builder, you +did not foresee—perhaps wish—intend, even a little, that—— H'm?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>That you would talk the poor man into clambering up that tower? You want +to drag <i>Me</i> into that business now!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Teasingly.</i>] Yes, I certainly think that then you went on exactly like +a troll.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With uncontrollable emotion.</i>] Hilda, there is not a corner of me safe +from you! Yes, I see now that <i>must</i> have been the way of it. Then I +<i>was</i> a troll in that, too! But isn't it terrible the price I have had +to pay for it? To have a wife who—— No, I shall never roll a pill +again—never, never!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Lays her head on the stove, and answers as if half asleep.</i>] No more +pills? Poor Doctor Herdal!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Bitterly.</i>] No—nothing but cosy commonplace grey powders for a whole +troop of children.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Lively again.</i>.] Not grey powders! [<i>Quite seriously.</i>] I will tell +you what you shall make next. Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders that will give +one a real grip on the world. Powders to make every one free and buoyant, and ready to +grasp at one's own happiness, to <i>dare</i> what one <i>would</i>. I will have +you make them. I will—I <i>will</i>!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 50%"> +<a href="images/p185.png"> +<img src="images/p185.png" width="100%" alt="rainbow-coloured powders" /></a> +<h3>"Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders that will give one a +real grip on the world!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>H'm! I am not quite sure that I clearly understand. And then the +ingredients——?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>What stupid people all of you pill-doctors are, to be sure! Why, they +will be <i>poisons</i>, of course!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Poisons? Why in the world should they be <i>that</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Without answering him.</i>] All the thrillingest, deadliest poisons—it +is only such things that are wholesome, nowadays.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>As if caught by her enthusiasm.</i>] And I could colour them, too, by +exposing them to rays cast through a prism. Oh, Hilda, how I have needed +you all these years! For, you see, with <i>her</i> it was impossible to +discuss such things.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Embraces her.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Enters noiselessly through hall-door.</i>] I suppose, Haustus, you are +persuading Miss Wangel to start by the afternoon steamer? I have bought +her a pair of curling-tongs, and a packet of hairpins. The larger +parcels are coming on presently.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Uneasily.</i>] H'm! Hilda—Miss Wangel I <i>should</i> say—is kindly going to +stay on a little longer, to assist me in some scientific experiments. +You wouldn't understand them if I told you.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>Shouldn't I, Haustus? I daresay not.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>The </i>NEW BOOK-KEEPER<i> looks through the glass door of dispensary.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Starts violently and points—then in a whisper.</i>] Who is <i>that?</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>Only the new Book-keeper and Assistant—a very intelligent person.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>Looks straight in front of her with a far-away expression, and +whispers to herself.</i>] I thought at first it was.... But no—<i>that</i> +would be <i>too</i> frightfully thrilling!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span>.</center> + +<p>[<i>To himself.</i>] I'm turning into a regular old troll +now—but I can't +help myself. After all, I am only an elderly Norwegian. We are <i>made</i> +like that.... Rainbow powders—<i>real</i> rainbow powders! With Hilda!.... +Oh, to have the joy of life once more!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Takes his temperature again as Curtain falls</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<h3><a name="ACT_THIRD4" id="ACT_THIRD4"></a>ACT THIRD</h3> + +<p class="hangindent">[<i>On the right, a smart verandah, attached to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal's</span> +<i>dwelling-house, and communicating with the drawing-room and dispensary +by glass doors. On the left a tumble-down rockery, with a headless +plaster Mercury. In front, a lawn, with a large silvered glass globe on +a stand. Chairs and tables. All the furniture is of galvanised iron. A +sunset is seen going on among the trees.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Comes out of dispensary-door cautiously, and whispers.</i>] Hilda, are +you in there?</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Taps with fingers on drawing-room door.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Comes out with a half-teasing smile.</i>] Well—and how is the +rainbow-powder getting on, Dr. Herdal?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With enthusiasm.</i>] It is getting on simply splendidly. I sent the new +assistant out to take a little walk, so that he should not be in the +way. There is arsenic in the powder, Hilda, and digitalis too, and +strychnine, and the best beetle-killer!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With happy, wondering eyes.</i>] <i>Lots</i> of beetle-killer. And you will +give some of it to <i>her</i>, to make her free and buoyant. I think one +really <i>has</i> the right—when people happen to stand in the way——!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, you may well say so, Hilda. Still—[<i>dubiously</i>]—it <i>does</i> occur +to me that such doings may perhaps be misunderstood—by the +narrow-minded and conventional.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>They go on the lawn, and sit down.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With an outburst.</i>] Oh, that all seems to me so foolish—so +irrelevant! As if the whole thing wasn't intended as an allegory!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Relieved.</i>] Ah, so long as it is merely <i>allegorical</i>, of course—— +But what is it an allegory <i>of</i>, Hilda?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Reflects in vain.</i>] How can you sit there and ask such questions? I +suppose I am a symbol—of some sort.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As a thought flashes upon him.</i>] A cymbal? That would certainly +account for your bra—— Then, am <i>I</i> a cymbal too, Hilda?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Why yes—what else? You represent the artist-worker, or the elder +generation, or the pursuit of the ideal, or a bilious conscience—or +something or other. <i>You're</i> all right!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Shakes his head.</i>] Am I? But I don't quite see—— Well, well, cymbals +are meant to clash a little. And I see plainly now that I ought to +prescribe this powder for as many as possible. Isn't it terrible, Hilda, +that so many poor souls never really die their own deaths—pass out of +the world without even the formality of an inquest? As the district +Coroner, I feel strongly on the subject.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>And, when the Coroner has finished sitting on all the bodies, +perhaps—but I shan't tell you now. [<i>Speaks as if to a child.</i>] There, +run away and finish making the rainbow-powder, do!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Skips up into the dispensary.</i>] I will—I will! Oh, I do feel such a +troll—such a light-haired, light-headed old devil!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Enters garden-gate.</i>] I have had my dismissal—but I'm not going +without saying good-bye to Mrs. Herdal.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>Dr. Herdal would disapprove—you really must not, Mr. Kalomel. And, +besides, Mrs. Herdal is not at home. She is in the town buying me a reel +of cotton. <i>Dr.</i> Herdal is in. He is making real rainbow powders for +regenerating everybody all round. Won't <i>that</i> be fun?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p><i>Making</i> powders? Ha! ha! But you will see he won't <i>take</i> one himself. +It is quite notorious to us younger men that he simply daren't do it.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With a little snort of contempt.</i>] Oh, I daresay—that's so likely! +[<i>Defiantly.</i>] I know he <i>can</i>, though. I've <i>seen</i> him!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>There is a tradition that he once—but not now—he knows better. I think +you said Mrs. Herdal was in the town? I will go and look for her. I +understand her so well.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes out by gate.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Calls.</i>] Dr. Herdal! Come out this minute. I want you—awfully!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Puts his head out.</i>] Just when I am making such wonderful progress +with the powder. [<i>Comes down and leans on a table.</i>] Have you hit upon +some way of giving it to Aline? I thought if you were to put it in her +arrowroot——?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>No, thanks. I won't have that now. I have just recollected that it is a +rule of mine never to injure anybody I have once been formally +introduced to. Strangers don't count. No, poor Mrs. Herdal mustn't take +that powder!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Disappointed.</i>] Then is nothing to come of making rainbow powders, +after all, Hilda?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks hard at him.</i>] People say you are afraid to take your own +physic. Is that true?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Yes, I am. [<i>After a pause—with candour.</i>] I find it invariably +disagrees with me.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With a half-dubious smile.</i>] I think I can understand <i>that</i>. But you +did <i>once</i>. You swallowed your own pills that day at the <i>table d'hôte</i>, +ten years ago. And I heard a harp in the air, too!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Open-mouthed.</i>] I don't think that <i>could</i> have been me. I don't play +any instrument. And that was quite a special thing, too. It's not every +day I can do it. Those were only <i>bread</i> pills, Hilda.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With flashing eyes.</i>] But you rolled them, you took them. And I want +to see you stand once more free and high and great, swallowing your own +preparations. [<i>Passionately.</i>] I <i>will</i> have you do it! +[<i>Imploringly.</i>] Just <i>once</i> more, Dr. Herdal!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>If I did, Hilda, my medical knowledge, slight as it is, leads me to the +conclusion that I should in all probability burst.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Looks deeply into his eyes.</i>] So long as you burst <i>beautifully</i>! But +no doubt that Miss Blakdraf——</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>You must believe in me utterly and entirely. I will do +anything—<i>anything</i>, Hilda, to provide you with agreeable +entertainment. I <i>will</i> swallow my own powder! [<i>To himself, as he goes +gravely up to dispensary.</i>] If only the drugs are sufficiently +adulterated!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<i>Goes in; as he does so, the</i> <span class="smcap">New Assistant</span> <i>enters the garden in +blue spectacles, unseen by</i> <span class="smcap">Hilda</span>, <i>and follows him, leaving open +the glass door.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Comes wildly out of drawing-room.</i>] Where is dear Dr. Herdal? Oh, Miss +Wangel, he has discharged me—but I can't—I simply <i>can't</i> live away +from that lovely ledger.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Jubilantly.</i>] At this moment Dr. Herdal is in the dispensary, taking +one of his own powders.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Despairingly.</i>] But—but it is utterly impossible! Miss Wangel, you +have such a firm hold of him—<i>don't</i> let him do that!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>I have already done all I can.</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Rübub</span> <i>appears, talking confidentially with</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span>, <i>at +gate.</i></p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Senna.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, Mrs. Herdal, Rübub! The Pill-Doctor is going to take one of his own +preparations. Save him—quick!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>With cold politeness.</i>] I am sorry to hear it—for his sake. But it +would be quite contrary to professional etiquette to prevent him.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>And I never interfere with my husband's proceedings. I know <i>my</i> duty, +Miss Blakdraf, if <i>others</i> don't!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Exulting with great intensity.</i>] At last! Now I see him in there, +great and free again, mixing the powder in a spoon—with jam!... Now he +raises the spoon. Higher—higher still! [<i>A gulp is audible from +within.</i>] There, didn't you hear a harp in the air? [<i>Quietly.</i>] I can't +see the spoon any more. But there is one he is striving with, in blue +spectacles!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Assistant's Voice.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Within.</i>] The Pill-Doctor Herdal has taken his own powder!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>As if petrified.</i>] That voice! <i>Where</i> have I heard it before? No +matter—he has got the powder down! [<i>Waves a shawl in the air, and +shrieks with wild jubilation.</i>] It's too awfully thrilling! My—<i>my</i> +Pill-Doctor!</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 40%"> +<a href="images/p203.png"> +<img src="images/p203.png" width="100%" alt="my Pill-doctor" /></a> +<h3>"My, my Pill-doctor!"</h3> +</div> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Assistant.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Comes out on verandah.</i>] I am happy to inform you that—as, to avoid +accidents, I took the simple precaution of filling all the +dispensary-jars with camphorated chalk—no serious results may be anticipated +from Dr. Herdal's rashness. [<i>Removes spectacles.</i>] Nora, don't +you know me?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Reflects.</i>] I really don't remember having the pleasure—— And I'm +<i>sure</i> I heard a harp in the air!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>I fancy, Miss Wangel, it must have been merely a bee in your bonnet.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Assistant.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Tenderly.</i>] Still the same little singing-bird! Oh, Nora, my long-lost +lark!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Sulkily.</i>] I'm <i>not</i> a lark—I'm a bird of prey—and when I get my +claws into anything——!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Assistant.</span></center> + +<p>Macaroons, for instance? I remember your tastes of old. See, Nora! +[<i>Produces a paper-bag from his coat-tail pocket.</i>] They were fresh this +morning!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Wavering.</i>] If you insist on calling me Nora, I think you must be just +a little mad yourself.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">The New Assistant.</span></center> + +<p>We are all a little mad—in Norway. But Torvald Helmer is sane enough +still to recognise his own little squirrel again! Surely, Nora, your +education is complete at last—you have gained the experience you +needed?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Nods slowly.</i>] Yes, Torvald, you're right enough <i>there</i>. I have +thought things out for myself, and have got clear about them. And I have +quite made up my mind that Society and the Law are all wrong, and that I +am right.</p> + +<center><center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center></center> + +<p>[<i>Overjoyed.</i>] Then you <i>have</i> learnt the Great Lesson, and are fit to +undertake the charge of your children's education at last! You've no +notion how they've grown! Yes, Nora, our marriage will be a true +marriage now. You will come back to the Dolls' House, won't you?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda-Nora-Helmer-Wangel.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Hesitates.</i>] Will you let me forge cheques if I do, Torvald?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Ardently.</i>] All day. And at night, Nora, we will falsify the +accounts—together!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Hilda-Nora-Helmer-Wangel.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Throws herself into his arms, and helps herself to macaroons.</i>] That +will be fearfully thrilling! My—<i>my</i> Manager!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Comes out very pale, from dispensary.</i>] Hilda I <i>did</i> take the—— I'm +afraid I interrupt you?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Helmer.</span></center> + +<p>Not in the least. But this lady is my little lark, and she is going +back to her cage by the next steamer.</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Bitterly.</i>] Am I <i>never</i> to have a gleam of happiness? But stay—do I +see my little Senna once more?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Rübub.</span></center> + +<p>Pardon me—<i>my</i> little Senna. She always believed so firmly in my pill!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Well—well. If it must be. Rübub, I will take you into partnership, and +we will take out a patent for that pill, jointly. Aline, my poor dear +Aline, let us try once more if we cannot bring a ray of brightness into +our cheerless home!</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>Oh, Haustus, if only we <i>could</i>—but why do you propose that to +me—<i>now</i>?</p> + +<center><span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal.</span></center> + +<p>[<i>Softly—to himself.</i>] Because I have tried being a troll—and found +that nothing came of it, and it wasn't worth sixpence!</p> + +<p class="direction">[<span class="smcap">Hilda-Nora</span> <i>goes off to the right with</i> <span class="smcap">Helmer</span>; <span class="smcap">Senna</span> <i>to the left +with</i> <span class="smcap">Rübub</span>; <span class="smcap">Dr. Herdal</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Herdal</span> <i>sit on two of the +galvanised-iron chairs, and shake their heads disconsolately as the +Curtain falls.</i></p><br /> + +<hr class="short" /><br /> + +<center><i>Printed by</i> <span class="smcap">Ballantyne, Hanson and Co.</span><br /> +<i>London and Edinburgh.</i></center><br /><br /> + +<center>* * * * *</center><br /><br /> + +<h3>ADVERTISEMENTS</h3><br /><br /> + +<center>* * * * *<br /><br /><br /> + +"Caustic satire and kindly humour."—<i>The Daily Telegraph.</i><br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<h3>WOMAN—THROUGH A MAN'S EYEGLASS</h3> +<br /> +BY<br /> +<br /> +MALCOLM C. SALAMAN<br /> +<br /> +WITH ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">By</span> DUDLEY HARDY<br /> +</center> + +<p>"Written with brightness and elegance, and embellished with +illustrations by Dudley Hardy in his happiest sketchy vein."—<i>Daily +Telegraph.</i></p> + +<p>"Shrewd observation and brisk utterances."—<i>Athenæum.</i></p> + +<p>"It gratifies curiosity in a manner peculiarly agreeable."—<i>Queen.</i></p> + +<p>"You will enjoy reading the book."—<i>Truth.</i></p> + +<p>"Full of good feeling and good sense."—<i>Daily Chronicle.</i></p> + +<center><i>Price Three Shillings and Sixpence</i> +<br /><br /> +<span class="smcap">London: Wm. HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford Street, W.C.</span><br /><br /></center> + +<hr /> + +<br /><br /> + +<center>"Very funny, shrewd, and whimsical."—<i>Vanity Fair.</i></center> + +<h3>THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB</h3> + +<center>BY<br /><br /> + +I. ZANGWILL<br /><br /> + +AUTHOR OF<br /><br /> + +"THE BACHELORS' CLUB," "CHILDREN OF THE GHETTO," "MERELY MARY ANN," "THE +PREMIER AND THE PAINTER," ETC.<br /><br /> + +WITH FORTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS</center> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By</span><br /><br />F. H. TOWNSEND</h3> + +<blockquote><p>"Most strongly to be recommended to all classes of +readers."—<i>Athenæum</i>.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Zangwill has a very bright and a very original humour, and +every page of this closely printed book is full of point and go, +and full, too, of a healthy satire that is really humorously +applied common sense."—<i>National Review</i>.</p> + +<p>"There is excellent fooling in the big book."—<i>World</i>.</p> + +<p>"Extremely amusing. The illustrations add greatly to the fun of the +book."—<i>Literary World</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<center><i>Price Three Shillings and Sixpence</i><br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">London: Wm. HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford Street, W.C.</span></center><br /><br /> + +<hr /> + +<br /><br /> + +<center><span class="smcap">Nearly Ready</span></center><br /> + +<h3><i>FROM WISDOM COURT</i></h3><br /> + +<center>BY<br /><br /> + +HENRY SETON MERRIMAN<br /><br /> + +AND<br /><br /> + +STEPHEN GRAHAM TALLENTYRE<br /><br /><br /> + +WITH THIRTY ILLUSTRATIONS<br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">By</span> E. COURBAIN</center><br /><br /> + +<h4><i>CONTENTS</i></h4> + +<p>ON A BED OF SICKNESS.—ON MATRIMONY.—ON THE POSTCARD.—ON THE SEA.—ON +VISITORS.—ON LUCK.—ON UNSELFISHNESS.—ON GOOD WORKS.—ON LOVE.—ON THE +MUSIC STOOL.—ON PURPOSE.—ON GIRL.—ON SUNDAY MORNING.—ON MEALS.—ON +HEART.—ON SLEEP.—ON SOCIETIES.—ON LANGUAGE.—ON LEARNING.—ON OUR OWN +BUSINESS.—ON PLEASURE.—ON OUR BIRTHPLACE.—ON OUR DOGS.—ON BEING +ENGAGED.—ON LETTERS.—ON CHURCH.—ON COURAGE.—ON HONOUR AND +GLORY.—THE LAST WORD.</p> + +<center><i>Price Three Shillings and Sixpence</i><br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">London: Wm. HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford Street, W.C.</span></center> + +<br /> + +<hr /> + +<br /> + +<center>"A work of rare humour, a thing of beauty, and a joy for now and +ever."—<i>Punch.</i></center><br /> + +<h3><i>THE GENTLE ART OF MAKING ENEMIES</i></h3> + +<p><i>AS PLEASINGLY EXEMPLIFIED IN MANY INSTANCES, WHEREIN THE SERIOUS ONES +OF THIS EARTH, CAREFULLY EXASPERATED, HAVE BEEN PRETTILY SPURRED ON TO +INDISCRETION AND UNSEEMLINESS, WHILE OVERCOME BY AN UNDUE SENSE OF +RIGHT.</i></p> + +<center>BY<br /><br /> + +J. M'NEILL WHISTLER</center><br /> + +<blockquote><p>"The book in itself, in its binding, print, and arrangement, is a +work of art."—<i>Punch.</i></p> + +<p>"There is no lack of wit, bright and original, in the book; indeed, +Mr. Whistler's happy thoughts are often irresistibly comic, the +very perfection of flippancy and banter."—<i>St. James's Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>"The book is altogether so curious, so dainty in all externals, so +absolutely unlike anything that ever before has proceeded from a +printing-press."—<i>Academy.</i></p></blockquote> + +<center><i>Price Ten Shillings and Sixpence</i><br /><br /> + +<span class="smcap">London: Wm. HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford Street, W.C.</span></center><br /><br /> + +<hr /> + +<p>Telegraphic Address:</p> + +<p><i>Sunlocks, London.</i></p><br /> + +<p><i><span class="smcap">21 Bedford Street, W.C.</span></i></p> + +<p><i>March 1893.</i></p> + +<h4>A LIST OF</h4> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Mr. WILLIAM HEINEMANN'S</span></h3> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Publications</span></h4> + +<center>AND</center> + +<h4><span class="smcap">Forthcoming Works</span></h4> + +<p><i>The Books mentioned in this List can be obtained to order by any +Bookseller if not in stock, or will be sent by the Publisher post free +on receipt of price.</i></p> + +<center>* * * * *</center><br /> + +<h4>INDEX OF AUTHORS.</h4> + +<center> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="10" summary="list of authors"> +<tr><td></td><td align="right">PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Alexander</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Arbuthnot</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Atherton</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Baddeley</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Balestier</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a>, <a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Barrett</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Behrs</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Bendall</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Björnson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a>, <a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Bowen</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Brown</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Brown and Griffiths</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Buchanan</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a>, <a href="#s10">10</a>, <a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Butler</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Caine</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a>, <a href="#s12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Caine</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Cambridge</td><td align="right"><a href="#s12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Chester</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Clarke</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Colomb</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Compayre</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Couperus</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Crackanthorpe</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Davidson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Dawson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">De Quincey</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Dowson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Eeden</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ellwanger</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ely</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Farrar</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fitch</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Forbes</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Fothergill</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Franzos</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Frederic</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a>, <a href="#s12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Garner</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Garnett</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gaulot</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gilchrist</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gore</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gosse</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a>, <a href="#s7">7</a>, <a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Grand</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gray</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Gray (Maxwell)</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Griffiths</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hall</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Harland</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hardy</td><td align="right"><a href="#s12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Heine</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a>, <a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Henderson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Howard</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hughes</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Hungerford</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a>, <a href="#s10">10</a>, <a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ibsen</td><td align="right"><a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Irving</td><td align="right"><a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ingersoll</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Jæger</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a>, <a href="#s15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Jeaffreson</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Keeling</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Kimball</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Kipling and Balestier</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lanza</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Le Caron</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lee</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Leighton</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Leland</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lie</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lowe</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a>, <a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lowry</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Lynch</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maartens</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maeterlinck</td><td align="right"><a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maude</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Mantegazza</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maupassant</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Maurice</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Merriman</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Michel</td><td align="right"><a href="#s3">3</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Mitford</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Moore</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Murray</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Norris</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ouida</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Palacio-Valdés</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Pearce</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Pennell</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Philips</td><td align="right"><a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Phelps</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Pinero</td><td align="right"><a href="#s15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Rawnsley</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Renan</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Richter</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Riddell</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Rives</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Roberts (C.G.D.)</td><td align="right"><a href="#s9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Roberts (A. von)</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Salaman (M. C.)</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Salaman (J. S.)</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Scudamore</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Serao</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sergeant</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Sienkiewicz</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tallentyre</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tasma</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a>, <a href="#s12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Terry</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Thurston</td><td align="right"><a href="#s16">16</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tolstoy</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a>, <a href="#s14">14</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Tree</td><td align="right"><a href="#s15">15</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Valera</td><td align="right"><a href="#s11">11</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Ward</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Warden</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Waugh</td><td align="right"><a href="#s6">6</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Weitemeyer</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">West</td><td align="right"><a href="#s5">5</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Whistler</td><td align="right"><a href="#s4">4</a>, <a href="#s7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">White</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Whitman</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Williams</td><td align="right"><a href="#s8">8</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Wood</td><td align="right"><a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Zangwill</td><td align="right"><a href="#s7">7</a>, <a href="#s10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align="left">Zola</td><td align="right"><a href="#s13">13</a></td></tr> +</table> +</center> + +<hr /> + +<a name="s3"></a> + +<br /> + +<center><i>In preparation</i>.</center> + +<h3>REMBRANDT:</h3> + +<h4>HIS LIFE, HIS WORK, AND HIS TIME.</h4> + +<center>BY</center > + +<h5>ÉMILE MICHEL,</h5> + +<center><i>MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE.</i></center><br /> + +<center>EDITED AND PREFACED BY</center> + +<h5>FREDERICK WEDMORE.</h5> + +<p>Nothing need be said in justification of a comprehensive book upon the +life and work of Rembrandt. A classic among classics, he is also a +modern of moderns. His works are to-day more sought after and better +paid for than ever before; he is now at the zenith of a fame which can +hardly decline.</p> + +<p>The author of this work is perhaps, of all living authorities on +Rembrandt, the one who has had the largest experience, the best +opportunity of knowing all that can be known of the master.</p> + +<p>The latest inventions in photogravure and process-engraving have enabled +the publisher to reproduce almost everything that is accessible in the +public galleries of Europe, as well as most of the numerous private +collections containing specimens of Rembrandt's work in England and on +the Continent.</p> + +<p>This work will be published in two volumes 4to, each containing over 300 +pages. There will be over 30 photogravures, about 40 coloured +reproductions of paintings and chalk drawings, and 250 illustrations in +the text.</p> + +<p>Two Editions will be printed—one on Japanese vellum, limited to 200 +numbered copies (for England and America), with duplicates of the plates +on India paper, price <i>£10 10s.</i> net. The ordinary edition will be +published at <i>£2 2s.</i> net.</p> + +<p>An illustrated prospectus is now ready and may be had on application. +Orders will be received by all booksellers, in town and country.</p> + +<hr /> + +<a name="s4"></a> + +<h4>Forthcoming Works.</h4> + +<p>QUESTIONS AT ISSUE. Essays. By <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>. In One Volume, crown 8vo +(uniform with "Gossip in a Library").</p> + +<p class="hangindent">A FRIEND OF THE QUEEN. Being Correspondence between Marie Antoinette and +Monsieur de Fersen. By <span class="smcap">Paul Gaulot</span>. In One Volume, 8vo.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">FROM WISDOM COURT. By <span class="smcap">Henry Seton Merriman</span> and <span class="smcap">Stephen Graham +Tallentyre</span>. With 50 Illustrations by <span class="smcap">E. Courboin</span>. In One Volume, crown +8vo (uniform with "Woman through a Man's Eyeglass" and "The Old Maid's +Club").</p> + +<p>THE ART OF TAKING A WIFE. By Professor <span class="smcap">Mantegazza</span>. Translated from the +Italian. In One Volume. Crown 8vo.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE SALON; or Letters on Art, Music, Popular Life, and Politics. By +<span class="smcap">Heinrich Heine</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Charles Godfrey Leland</span>. Crown 8vo (Heine's +Works, Vol. 4).</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE BOOK OF SONGS. By <span class="smcap">Heinrich Heine</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Charles Godfrey +Leland</span>. Crown 8vo (Heine's Works, Vol. 9).</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE WORKS OF HEINRICH HEINE. Large Paper Edition, limited to 100 +Numbered Copies. Price 15s. per volume net, sold only to subscribers for +the complete work. Vols. I. II. and III. are now ready.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">LIFE OF HEINRICH HEINE. By <span class="smcap">Richard Garnett</span>, LL.D. With Portrait. Crown +8vo (uniform with the translation of Heine's Works).</p> + +<p class="hangindent">LITTLE JOHANNES. By <span class="smcap">Frederick van Eeden</span>. Translated from the Dutch by +<span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">Andrew Lang</span>. Illustrated.</p> + +<center>⁂ <i>Also a Large Paper Edition.</i></center> + +<p>STRAY MEMORIES. By <span class="smcap">Ellen Terry</span>. In one volume. 4to. Illustrated.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">SONGS ON STONE. By <span class="smcap">J. McNeill Whistler</span>. A series of lithographic +drawings in colour, by Mr. <span class="smcap">Whistler</span>, will appear from time to time in +parts, under the above title. Each containing four plates. The first +issue of 200 copies will be sold at Two Guineas net per part, by +Subscription for the Series only.</p> + +<center><i>There will also be issued 50 copies on Japanese paper, signed by the +artist, each Five Guineas net.</i></center><br /><br /> + +<hr /> + +<a name="s5"></a> + +<h4>The Great Educators.</h4> + +<p><i>A Series of Volumes by Eminent Writers, presenting in their entirety "A +Biographical History of Education."</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>The Times.</i>—"A Series of Monographs on 'The Great Educators' +should prove of service to all who concern themselves with the +history, theory, and practice of education."</p> + +<p><i>The Speaker.</i>—"There is a promising sound about the title of Mr. +Heinemann's new series, 'The Great Educators.' It should help to +allay the hunger and thirst for knowledge and culture of the vast +multitude of young men and maidens which our educational system +turns out yearly, provided at least with an appetite for +instruction."</p></blockquote> + +<p>Each subject will form a complete volume, crown 8vo, 5s.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center><i>Now ready.</i></center> + +<p>ARISTOTLE, and the Ancient Educational Ideals. <span class="smcap">Thomas Davidson</span>, M.A., +LL.D.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>The Times.</i>—"A very readable sketch of a very interesting +subject."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LOYOLA, and the Educational System of the Jesuits. By Rev. <span class="smcap">Thomas +Hughes</span>, S.J.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Saturday Review.</i>—"Full of valuable information.... If a +schoolmaster would learn how the education of the young can be +carried on so as to confer real dignity on those engaged in it, we +recommend him to read Mr. Hughes' book."</p></blockquote> + +<p>ALCUIN, and the Rise of the Christian Schools. By Professor <span class="smcap">Andrew F. +West</span>, Ph.D.</p> + +<p>FROEBEL, and Education by Self-Activity. By <span class="smcap">H. Courthope Bowen</span>, M.A.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">ABELARD, and the Origin and Early History of Universities. By <span class="smcap">Jules +Gabriel Compayre</span>, Professor in the Faculty of Toulouse.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center><i>In preparation</i>.</center> + +<p>ROUSSEAU; or, Education according to Nature.</p> + +<p>HERBART; or, Modern German Education.</p> + +<p>PESTALOZZI; or, the Friend and Student of Children</p> + +<p>HORACE MANN, and Public Education in the United States. By <span class="smcap">Nicholas +Murray Butler</span>, Ph.D.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">BELL, LANCASTER, and ARNOLD; or, the English Education of To-Day. By <span class="smcap">J. +G. Fitch</span>, LL.D., Her Majesty's Inspector of Schools.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center><i>Others to follow.</i></center> + +<a name="s6"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">VICTORIA: Queen and Empress. By <span class="smcap">John Cordy Jeaffreson</span>, Author of "The +Real Lord Byron," &c. In Two Volumes, 8vo. With Portraits. <i>£1 10s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON: a Study of his Life and Work. By <span class="smcap">Arthur Waugh</span>, +B.A. Oxon. With Twenty Illustrations, from Photographs Specially Taken +for this Work, and Five Portraits. Second Edition, Revised. In One +Volume, demy 8vo, <i>10s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE SECRET SERVICE. The Recollections of a Spy. By +Major <span class="smcap">Le Caron</span>. Eighth Edition. In One Volume, 8vo. With Portraits and +Facsimiles. Price <i>14s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">RECOLLECTIONS OF COUNT LEO TOLSTOY. Together with a Letter to the Women +of France on the "Kreutzer Sonata." By <span class="smcap">C. A. Behrs</span>. Translated from the +Russian by <span class="smcap">C. E. Turner</span>, English Lecturer in the University of St. +Petersburg. In One Volume, 8vo. With Portrait. <i>10s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE GREAT WAR IN 189—. A Forecast. By Rear-Admiral <span class="smcap">Colomb</span>, Col. +<span class="smcap">Maurice</span>, R.A., Captain <span class="smcap">Maude</span>, <span class="smcap">Archibald Forbes</span>, <span class="smcap">Charles Lowe</span>, <span class="smcap">D. +Christie Murray</span>, and <span class="smcap">F. Scudamore</span>. In One Volume, large 8vo. With +numerous Illustrations, <i>12s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE FAMILY LIFE OF HEINRICH HEINE. Illustrated by one hundred and +twenty-two hitherto unpublished letters addressed by him to different +members of his family. Edited by his nephew Baron <span class="smcap">Ludwig Von Embden</span>, and +translated by <span class="smcap">Charles Godfrey Leland</span>. In One Volume, 8vo. With 4 +Portraits. <i>12s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE WORKS OF HEINRICH HEINE. Translated by <span class="smcap">Charles Godfrey Leland</span>, M.A., +F.R.L.S. (Hans Breitmann.) Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i> per Volume.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Times.</i>—"We can recommend no better medium for making +acquaintance at first hand with 'the German Aristophanes' than the +works of Heinrich Heine, translated by Charles Godfrey Leland. Mr. +Leland manages pretty successfully to preserve the easy grace of +the original."</p> + +<p>I. FLORENTINE NIGHTS, SCHNABELEWOPSKI, THE RABBI OF BACHARACH, and +SHAKESPEARE'S MAIDENS AND WOMEN.</p> + +<p>II., III. PICTURES OF TRAVEL. 1823-1828. In Two Volumes.</p> + +<p>IV. THE SALON.</p> + +<p>V., VI. GERMANY. In Two Volumes.</p> + +<p>VII., VIII. FRENCH AFFAIRS. Letters from Paris 1832, and Lutetia. In Two +Vols.</p> + +<p>IX. THE BOOK OF SONGS. [<i>Others in preparation</i>.</p></blockquote> + +<center>⁂ <i>Large Paper Edition, limited to 100 Numbered Copies, 15s. each, +net. Volumes 1-3 ready. Prospectus on application.</i></center> + +<a name="s7"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB. By <span class="smcap">I. Zangwill</span>, Author of "The Bachelors' Club." +Illustrated by <span class="smcap">F. H. Townsend</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">WOMAN—THROUGH A MAN'S EYEGLASS. By <span class="smcap">Malcolm C. Salaman.</span> With +Illustrations by <span class="smcap">Dudley Hardy</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p>GIRLS AND WOMEN. By <span class="smcap">E. Chester</span>. Pott 8vo, cloth, <i>2s. 6d.</i>, or gilt +extra, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">GOSSIP IN A LIBRARY. By <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>, Author of "Northern Studies," &c. +Second Edition. Crown 8vo, buckram, gilt top, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<center>⁂ <i>Large Paper Edition, limited to 100 Numbered Copies, 25s. net.</i></center> + +<p class="hangindent">THE LIFE OF HENRIK IBSEN. By <span class="smcap">Henrik Jæger</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. +With the Verse done into English from the Norwegian Original by <span class="smcap">Edmund +Gosse</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">DE QUINCEY MEMORIALS. Being Letters and other Records here first +Published, with Communications from <span class="smcap">Coleridge</span>, The <span class="smcap">Wordsworths</span>, <span class="smcap">Hannah +More</span>, <span class="smcap">Professor Wilson</span> and others. Edited with Introduction, Notes, and +Narrative, by <span class="smcap">Alexander H. Japp</span>, LL.D. F.R.S.E. In two volumes, demy +8vo, cloth, with portraits, <i>30s.</i> net.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE POSTHUMOUS WORKS OF THOMAS DE QUINCEY. Edited with Introduction and +Notes from the Author's Original MSS., by <span class="smcap">Alexander H. Japp</span>, LL.D., +F.R.S.E., &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i> each.</p> + +<p>I. SUSPIRIA DE PROFUNDIS. With other Essays.</p> + +<p>II. CONVERSATION AND COLERIDGE. With other Essays.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">STUDIES OF RELIGIOUS HISTORY. By <span class="smcap">Ernest Renan</span>, late of the French +Academy. In One Volume, 8vo, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE ARBITRATOR'S MANUAL. Under the London Chamber of Arbitration. Being +a Practical Treatise on the Power and Duties of an Arbitrator, with the +Rules and Procedure of the Court of Arbitration, and the Forms. By +<span class="smcap">Joseph Seymour Salaman</span>, Author of "Trade Marks," etc. Fcap. 8vo, <i>3s. +6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE GENTLE ART OF MAKING ENEMIES. As pleasingly exemplified in many +instances, wherein the serious ones of this earth, carefully +exasperated, have been prettily spurred on to indiscretions and +unseemliness, while overcome by an undue sense of right. By <span class="smcap">J. M'Neill +Whistler</span>. A New Edition. Pott 4to, half-cloth, <i>10s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE JEW AT HOME. Impressions of a Summer and Autumn Spent with Him in +Austria and Russia. By <span class="smcap">Joseph Pennell</span>. With Illustrations by the Author. +4to, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE NEW EXODUS. A Study of Israel in Russia. By <span class="smcap">Harold Frederic</span>. Demy +8vo. Illustrated. <i>16s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">PRINCE BISMARCK. An Historical Biography. By <span class="smcap">Charles Lowe</span>, M.A. With +Portraits. Crown 8vo, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<a name="s8"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">QUEEN JOANNA I. OF NAPLES, SICILY, AND JERUSALEM; Countess of Provence +Forcalquier, and Piedmont. An Essay on her Times. By <span class="smcap">St. Clair Baddeley</span>. +Imperial 8vo. With Numerous Illustrations. <i>16s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE COMING TERROR. And other Essays and Letters. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>. +Second Edition. Demy 8vo, cloth, <i>12s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">ARABIC AUTHORS: A Manual of Arabian History and Literature. By <span class="smcap">F. F. +Arbuthnot</span>, M.R.A.S., Author of "Early Ideas," "Persian Portraits," &c. +8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE LABOUR MOVEMENT IN AMERICA. By <span class="smcap">Richard T. Ely</span>, Ph.D., Associate in +Political Economy, Johns Hopkins University. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE LITTLE MANX NATION. (Lectures delivered at the Royal Institution, +1891.) By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>, Author of "The Bondman," "The Scapegoat," &c. +Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i>; paper, <i>2s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">NOTES FOR THE NILE. Together with a Metrical Rendering of the Hymns of +Ancient Egypt and of the Precepts of Ptah-hotep (the oldest book in the +world). By <span class="smcap">Hardwicke D. Rawnsley</span>, M.A. 16mo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">DENMARK: Its History, Topography, Language, Literature, Fine Arts, +Social Life, and Finance. Edited by <span class="smcap">H. Weitemeyer</span>. Demy 8vo, cloth, with +Map, <i>12s. 6d.</i></p> + +<center>⁂ <i>Dedicated, by permission, to H.R.H. the Princess of Wales.</i></center> + +<p class="hangindent">THE REALM OF THE HABSBURGS. By <span class="smcap">Sidney Whitman</span>, Author of "Imperial +Germany." In One Volume. Crown 8vo, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">IMPERIAL GERMANY. A Critical Study of Fact and Character. By <span class="smcap">Sidney +Whitman</span>. New Edition, Revised and Enlarged. Crown 8vo, cloth <i>2s. 6d.</i>; +paper, <i>2s.</i></p> + +<p>THE SPEECH OF MONKEYS. By Professor <span class="smcap">R. L. Garner</span>. Crown 8vo, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE WORD OF THE LORD UPON THE WATERS. Sermons read by His Imperial +Majesty the Emperor of Germany, while at Sea on his Voyages to the Land +of the Midnight Sun. Composed by <span class="smcap">Dr. Richter</span>, Army Chaplain, and +Translated from the German by <span class="smcap">John R. Mcilraith</span>. 4to, cloth, <i>2s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE HOURS OF RAPHAEL, IN OUTLINE. Together with the Ceiling of the Hall +where they were originally painted. By <span class="smcap">Mary E. Williams</span>. Folio, cloth, +<i>£2 2s.</i> net.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE PASSION PLAY AT OBERAMMERGAU, 1890. By <span class="smcap">F. W. Farrar</span>, D.D., F.R.S., +Archdeacon and Canon of Westminster, &c. &c. 4to, cloth, <i>2s. 6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE GARDEN'S STORY; or, Pleasures and Trials of an Amateur Gardener. By +<span class="smcap">G. H. Ellwanger</span>. With an Introduction by the Rev. <span class="smcap">C. Wolley Dod</span>. 12mo, +cloth, with Illustrations, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">IDLE MUSINGS: Essays in Social Mosaic. By <span class="smcap">E. Conder Gray</span>, Author of +"Wise Words and Loving Deeds," &c. &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<a name="s9"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">THE CANADIAN GUIDE-BOOK. Part I. The Tourist's and Sportsman's Guide to +Eastern Canada and Newfoundland, including full descriptions of Routes, +Cities, Points of Interest, Summer Resorts, Fishing Places, &c., in +Eastern Ontario, The Muskoka District, The St. Lawrence Region, The Lake +St. John Country, The Maritime Provinces, Prince Edward Island, and +Newfoundland. With an Appendix giving Fish and Game Laws, and Official +Lists of Trout and Salmon Rivers and their Lessees. By <span class="smcap">Charles G. D. +Roberts</span>, Professor of English Literature in King's College, Windsor, +N.S. With Maps and many Illustrations. Crown 8vo, limp cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">Part II. WESTERN CANADA. Including the Peninsula and Northern Regions of +Ontario, the Canadian Shores of the Great Lakes, the Lake of the Woods +Region, Manitoba and "The Great North-West," The Canadian Rocky +Mountains and National Park, British Columbia, and Vancouver Island. By +<span class="smcap">Ernest Ingersoll</span>. With Maps and many Illustrations. Crown 8vo, limp +cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE GENESIS OF THE UNITED STATES. A Narrative of the Movement in +England, 1605-1616, which resulted in the Plantation of North America by +Englishmen, disclosing the Contest between England and Spain for the +Possession of the Soil now occupied by the United States of America; set +forth through a series of Historical Manuscripts now first printed, +together with a Re-issue of Rare Contemporaneous Tracts, accompanied by +Bibliographical Memoranda, Notes, and Brief Biographies. Collected, +Arranged, and Edited by <span class="smcap">Alexander Brown</span>, F.R.H.S. With 100 Portraits, +Maps, and Plans. In two volumes. Royal 8vo. Buckram, <i>£3 13s. 6d.</i></p> + +<a name="s10"></a> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Fiction.</h4> + +<center>In Three Volumes.</center> + +<p>KITTY'S FATHER. By <span class="smcap">Frank Barrett</span>, Author of "The Admirable Lady Biddy +Fane," &c.</p> + +<p>THE HEAVENLY TWINS. By <span class="smcap">Sarah Grand</span>, Author of "Ideala," &c.</p> + +<p>ORIOLE'S DAUGHTER. By <span class="smcap">Jessie Fothergill</span>, Author of "The First Violin," +&c. [<i>Just ready.</i></p> + +<p>THE LAST SENTENCE. By <span class="smcap">Maxwell Gray</span>, Author of "The Silence of Dean +Maitland," &c. [<i>In April.</i></p> + +<p>THE COUNTESS RADNA. By <span class="smcap">W. E. Norris</span>, Author of "Matrimony," &c. [<i>In +May.</i></p> + +<p>BENEFITS FORGOT. By <span class="smcap">Wolcott Balestier</span>. [<i>In June.</i></p> + +<p>THE HOYDEN. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Hungerford</span>. [<i>In July.</i></p> + +<p>AS A MAN IS ABLE. By <span class="smcap">Dorothy Leighton</span>. [<i>In preparation.</i></p> + +<p>A COMEDY OF MASKS. By <span class="smcap">Ernest Dowson</span> and <span class="smcap">Arthur Moore</span>. [<i>In +preparation.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center>In Two Volumes.</center> + +<p class="hangindent">WOMAN AND THE MAN. A Love Story. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>, Author of "Come +Live with Me and be My Love," "The Moment After," "The Coming Terror," +&c. [<i>In preparation.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center>In One Volume.</center> + +<p class="hangindent">THE NAULAHKA. A Tale of West and East. By <span class="smcap">Rudyard Kipling</span> and <span class="smcap">Wolcott +Balestier</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i> Second Edition.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">AVENGED ON SOCIETY. By <span class="smcap">H. F. Wood</span>, Author of "The Englishman of the Rue +Cain," "The Passenger from Scotland Yard." Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE O'CONNORS OF BALLINAHINCH. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Hungerford</span>, Author of "Molly +Bawn," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p>PASSION THE PLAYTHING. A Novel. By R. <span class="smcap">Murray Gilchrist</span>. Crown 8vo, +cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<p>THE SECRET OF NARCISSE. By <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>. Crown 8vo, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">ACCORDING TO ST. JOHN. By <span class="smcap">Amélie Rives</span>, Author of "The Quick or the +Dead." Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE PENANCE OF PORTIA JAMES. By <span class="smcap">Tasma</span>, Author of "Uncle Piper of Piper's +Hill," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">INCONSEQUENT LIVES. A Village Chronicle, shewing how certain folk set +out for El Dorado; what they attempted; and what they attained. By <span class="smcap">J. H. +Pearce</span>, Author of "Esther Pentreath," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">A QUESTION OF TASTE. By <span class="smcap">Maarten Maartens</span>, Author of "An Old Maid's +Love," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">COME LIVE WITH ME AND BE MY LOVE. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>, Author of "The +Moment After," "The Coming Terror," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">VANITAS. By <span class="smcap">Vernon Lee</span>, Author of "Hauntings," &c. Crown 8vo, cloth, +<i>5s.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE DOMINANT SEVENTH. A Musical Story. By <span class="smcap">Kate Elizabeth Clarke</span>. Crown +8vo, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center><i>In preparation.</i></center> + +<p>THE TOWER OF TADDEO. By <span class="smcap">Ouida</span>, Author of "Two Little Wooden Shoes," &c. +New Edition.</p> + +<p>CHILDREN OF THE GHETTO. By <span class="smcap">I. Zangwill</span>, Author of "The Old Maids' Club," +&c. New Edition.</p> + +<p>A BATTLE AND A BOY. By <span class="smcap">Blanche Willis Howard</span>, Author of "Guenn," &c.</p> + +<p>WRECKERS AND METHODISTS. By <span class="smcap">H. D. Lowry</span>.</p> + +<p>MR. BAILEY MARTIN. By <span class="smcap">Percy White</span>.</p> + +<p>APPASSIONATA: The Story of a Musician. By <span class="smcap">Elsa D'esterre Keeling</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<a name="s11"></a> + +<h4>Heinemann's International Library.</h4> + +<center><span class="smcap">Edited by</span> EDMUND GOSSE.</center> + +<blockquote><p><i>New Review.</i>—"If you have any pernicious remnants of literary +chauvinism I hope it will not survive the series of foreign +classics of which Mr. William Heinemann, aided by Mr. Edmund Gosse, +is publishing translations to the great contentment of all lovers +of literature."</p></blockquote> + +<center><i>Each Volume has an Introduction specially written by the Editor.</i><br /> + +Price, in paper covers, <i>2s. 6d.</i> each, or cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i></center> + +<p>IN GOD'S WAY. From the Norwegian of <span class="smcap">Björnstjerne Björnson</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"Without doubt the most important and the most +interesting work published during the twelve months."</p></blockquote> + +<p>PIERRE AND JEAN. From the French of <span class="smcap">Guy de Maupassant</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i>—"Admirable from beginning to end."</p> + +<p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"Ranks amongst the best gems of modern French +fiction."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CHIEF JUSTICE. From the German of <span class="smcap">Karl Emil Franzos</span>, Author of "For +the Right," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>New Review.</i>—"Few novels of recent times have a more sustained +and vivid human interest."</p></blockquote> + +<p>WORK WHILE YE HAVE THE LIGHT. From the Russian of Count <span class="smcap">Leo Tolstoy</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Manchester Guardian.</i>—"Readable and well translated; full of high +and noble feeling."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FANTASY. From the Italian of <span class="smcap">Matilde Serao</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Scottish Leader.</i>—"The book is full of a glowing and living +realism.... There is nothing like 'Fantasy' in modern literature."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FROTH. From the Spanish of Don <span class="smcap">Armando Palacio-Valdés</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Daily Telegraph.</i>—"Vigorous and powerful in the highest degree."</p></blockquote> + +<p>FOOTSTEPS OF FATE. From the Dutch of <span class="smcap">Louis Couperus</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Gentlewoman.</i>—"The consummate art of the writer prevents this +tragedy from sinking to melodrama. Not a single situation is forced +or a circumstance exaggerated."</p></blockquote> + +<p>PEPITA JIMÉNEZ. From the Spanish of <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>New Review</i> (Mr. George Saintsbury):—"There is no doubt at all +that it is one of the best stories that have appeared in any +country in Europe for the last twenty years."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE COMMODORE'S DAUGHTERS. From the Norwegian of <span class="smcap">Jonas Lie</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"Everything that Jonas Lie writes is attractive and +pleasant; the plot of deeply human interest, and the art noble."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE HERITAGE OF THE KURTS. From the Norwegian of <span class="smcap">Björnstjerne Björnson</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>National Observer.</i>—"It is a book to read and a book to think +about, for, incontestably, it is the work of a man of genius."</p></blockquote> + +<p>LOU. From the German of <span class="smcap">Baron Alexander Von Roberts</span>.</p> + +<p>DONA LUZ. From the Spanish of <span class="smcap">Juan Valera</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4><i>In the Press</i>.</h4> + +<p>WITHOUT DOGMA. From the Polish of <span class="smcap">H. Sienkiewicz</span>.</p> + +<p>MOTHER'S HANDS, and other Stories. From the Norwegian of <span class="smcap">Björnstjerne +Björnson</span>.</p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<a name="s12"></a> + +<h4>Popular 3s. 6d. Novels.</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">CAPT'N DAVY'S HONEYMOON, The Blind Mother, and The Last Confession. By +<span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>, Author of "The Bondman," "The Scapegoat," &c.</p> + +<p>THE SCAPEGOAT. By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>, Author of "The Bondman," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Mr. Gladstone writes</i>:—"I congratulate you upon 'The Scapegoat' +as a work of art, and especially upon the noble and skilfully drawn +character of Israel."</p> + +<p><i>Times.</i>—"In our judgment it excels in dramatic force all his +previous efforts. For grace and touching pathos Naomi is a +character which any romancist in the world might be proud to have +created."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE BONDMAN. A New Saga. By <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>. Twentieth Thousand.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Mr. Gladstone.</i>—"'The Bondman' is a work of which I recognise the +freshness, vigour, and sustained interest no less than its +integrity of aim."</p> + +<p><i>Standard.</i>—"Its argument is grand, and it is sustained with a +power that is almost marvellous."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DESPERATE REMEDIES. By <span class="smcap">Thomas Hardy</span>, Author of "Tess of the +D'Urbervilles," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Saturday Review.</i>—"A remarkable story worked out with abundant +skill."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A LITTLE MINX. By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>, Author of "A Marked Man," &c.</p> + +<p>A MARKED MAN: Some Episodes in his Life. By ADA CAMBRIDGE, Author of +"Two Years' Time," "A Mere Chance," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Morning Post.</i>—"A depth of feeling, a knowledge of the human +heart, and an amount of tact that one rarely finds. Should take a +prominent place among the novels of the season."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE THREE MISS KINGS. By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>, Author of "A Marked Man."</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"A charming study of character. The love stories are +excellent, and the author is happy in tender situations."</p></blockquote> + +<p>NOT ALL IN VAIN. By <span class="smcap">Ada Cambridge</span>, Author of "A Marked Man," "The Three +Miss Kings," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Guardian.</i>—"A clever and absorbing story."</p> + +<p><i>Queen.</i>—"All that remains to be said is 'read the book.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">A KNIGHT OF THE WHITE FEATHER. By <span class="smcap">Tasma</span>, Author of "The Penance of +Portia James," "Uncle Piper of Piper's Hill," &c.</p> + +<p>UNCLE PIPER OF PIPER'S HILL. By <span class="smcap">Tasma</span>. New Popular Edition.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Guardian.</i>—"Every page of it contains good wholesome food, which +demands and repays digestion. The tale itself is thoroughly +charming, and all the characters are delightfully drawn. We +strongly recommend all lovers of wholesome novels to make +acquaintance with it themselves, and are much mistaken if they do +not heartily thank us for the introduction."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">THE RETURN OF THE O'MAHONY. By <span class="smcap">Harold Frederic</span>, Author of "In the +Valley," &c. With Illustrations.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">IN THE VALLEY. By <span class="smcap">Harold Frederic</span>, Author of "The Lawton Girl," "Seth's +Brother's Wife," &c. With Illustrations.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Times.</i>—"The literary value of the book is high; the author's +studies of bygone life presenting a life-like picture."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">PRETTY MISS SMITH. By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>, Author of "The House on the +Marsh," "A Witch of the Hills," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Punch.</i>—"Since Miss Florence Warden's 'House on the Marsh,' I +have not read a more exciting tale."</p></blockquote> + +<a name="s13"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">THE STORY OF A PENITENT SOUL. Being the Private Papers of Mr. Stephen +Dart, late Minister at Lynnbridge, in the County of Lincoln. By <span class="smcap">Adeline +Sergeant</span>, Author of "No Saint," &c.</p> + +<p>NOR WIFE, NOR MAID. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Hungerford</span>, Author of "Molly Bawn," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Queen.</i>—"It has all the characteristics of the writer's work, and +greater emotional depth than most of its predecessors."</p> + +<p><i>Scotsman.</i>—"Delightful reading, supremely interesting."</p></blockquote> + +<p>MAMMON. A Novel. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Alexander</span>, Author of "The Wooing O't," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Scotsman.</i>—"The present work is not behind any of its +predecessors. 'Mammon' is a healthy story, and as it has been +thoughtfully written it has the merit of creating thought in its +readers."</p></blockquote> + +<p>DAUGHTERS OF MEN. By <span class="smcap">Hannah Lynch</span>, Author of "The Prince of the Glades," +&c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Daily Telegraph.</i>—"Singularly clever and fascinating."</p> + +<p class="hangindent"><i>Academy.</i>—"One of the cleverest, if not also the pleasantest, +stories that have appeared for a long time."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">A ROMANCE OF THE CAPE FRONTIER. By <span class="smcap">Bertram Mitford</span>, Author of "Through +the Zulu Country," &c.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Observer.</i>—"This is a rattling tale, genial, healthy, and +spirited."</p></blockquote> + +<p>'TWEEN SNOW AND FIRE. A Tale of the Kafir War of 1877. By <span class="smcap">Bertram +Mitford</span>.</p> + +<p>THE MASTER OF THE MAGICIANS. By ELIZABETH <span class="smcap">Stuart Phelps</span> and <span class="smcap">Herbert D. +Ward</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"A thrilling story."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">THE HEAD OF THE FIRM. By Mrs. <span class="smcap">Riddell</span>, Author of "George Geith," +"Maxwell Drewett," &c. [<i>In preparation.</i></p> + +<p>THE AVERAGE WOMAN. By <span class="smcap">Wolcott Balestier</span>. With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">Henry +James</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE ATTACK ON THE MILL, and Other Sketches of War. By <span class="smcap">Emile Zola</span>. With +an essay on the short stories of M. Zola by Edmund Gosse.</p> + +<p>WRECKAGE, and other Stories. By <span class="smcap">Hubert Crackanthorpe</span>.</p> + +<p class="hangindent">MADEMOISELLE MISS, and Other Stories. By <span class="smcap">Henry Harland</span>, Author of "Mea +Culpa," &c. [<i>In the Press.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">LOS CERRITOS. A Romance of the Modern Time. By GERTRUDE FRANKLIN +ATHERTON, Author of "Hermia Suydam," and "What Dreams May Come."</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"Full of fresh fancies and suggestions. Told with +strength and delicacy. A decidedly charming romance."</p></blockquote> + +<p>A MODERN MARRIAGE. By the Marquise CLARA LANZA.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Queen.</i>—"A powerful story, dramatically and consistently carried +out."</p> + +<p><i>Black and White.</i>—"A decidedly clever book."</p></blockquote> + +<a name="s14"></a> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Popular Shilling Books.</h4> + +<p>MADAME VALERIE. By <span class="smcap">F. C. Philips</span>, Author of "As in a Looking-Glass," &c.</p> + +<p>THE MOMENT AFTER: A Tale of the Unseen. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"Should be read—in daylight."</p> + +<p><i>Observer.</i>—"A clever <i>tour de force</i>."</p> + +<p><i>Guardian.</i>—"Particularly impressive, graphic, and powerful."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">CLUES; or, Leaves from a Chief Constable's Note-Book. By <span class="smcap">William +Henderson</span>, Chief Constable of Edinburgh.</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Mr. Gladstone.</i>—"I found the book full of interest."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Dramatic Literature.</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">THE MASTER BUILDER. A Play in Three Acts. By <span class="smcap">Henrik Ibsen</span>. Translated +from the Norwegian by <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span> and <span class="smcap">William Archer</span>. Small 4to, with +Portrait, <i>5s.</i> [<i>Just ready.</i></p> + +<p>A NEW PLAY. By <span class="smcap">Björnstjerne Björnson</span>. Translated from the Norwegian. +[<i>In preparation.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE PRINCESSE MALEINE: A Drama in Five Acts (Translated by <span class="smcap">Gerard +Harry</span>), and THE INTRUDER: A Drama in One Act. By <span class="smcap">Maurice Maeterlinck</span>. +With an Introduction by <span class="smcap">Hall Caine</span>, and a Portrait of the Author. Small +4to, cloth, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Athenæum.</i>—"In the creation of the 'atmosphere' of the play M. +Maeterlinck shows his skill. It is here that he communicates to us +the <i>nouveau frisson</i>, here that he does what no one else has done. +In 'The Intruder' the art consists of the subtle gradations of +terror, the slow, creeping progress of the nightmare of +apprehension. Nothing quite like it has been done before—not even +by Poe—not even by Villiers."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">THE FRUITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT: A Comedy in Four Acts. By Count <span class="smcap">Lyof +Tolstoy</span>. Translated from the Russian by <span class="smcap">E. J. Dillon</span>. With Introduction +by <span class="smcap">A. W. Pinero</span>. Small 4to, with Portrait, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i>—"The whole effect of the play is distinctly +Molièresque; it has something of the large humanity of the master. +Its satire is genial, almost gay."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">HEDDA GABLER: A Drama in Four Acts. By <span class="smcap">Henrik Ibsen</span>. Translated from the +Norwegian by <span class="smcap">Edmund Gosse</span>. Small 4to, cloth, with Portrait, <i>5s.</i> +Vaudeville Edition, paper, <i>1s.</i> Also a Limited Large Paper Edition, +<i>21s. net.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Times.</i>—"The language in which this play is couched is a model of +brevity, decision, and pointedness.... Every line tells, and there +is not an incident that does not bear on the action immediate or +remote. As a corrective to the vapid and foolish writing with which +the stage is deluged 'Hedda Gabler' is perhaps entitled to the +place of honour."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">THE DRAMA, ADDRESSES. By <span class="smcap">Henry Irving</span>. Fcap. 8vo. With Portrait by J. +McN. Whistler. <i>3s. 6d.</i> Second Edition.</p> + +<a name="s15"></a> + +<p class="hangindent">SOME INTERESTING FALLACIES OF THE MODERN STAGE. An Address delivered to +the Playgoers' Club at St. James's Hall, on Sunday, 6th December, 1891. +By <span class="smcap">Herbert Beerbohm Tree</span>. Crown 8vo, sewed, <i>6d.</i></p> + +<p class="hangindent">THE LIFE OF HENRIK IBSEN. By <span class="smcap">Henrik Jæger</span>. Translated by <span class="smcap">Clara Bell</span>. +With the Verse done into English from the Norwegian Original by <span class="smcap">Edmund +Gosse</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, <i>6s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>St. James's Gazette.</i>—"Admirably translated. Deserves a cordial +and emphatic welcome."</p> + +<p><i>Guardian.</i>—"Ibsen's dramas at present enjoy a considerable vogue, +and their admirers will rejoice to find full descriptions and +criticisms in Mr. Jæger's book."</p></blockquote> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<center>THE PLAYS OF ARTHUR W. PINERO.<br /><br /> + +With Introductory Notes by <span class="smcap">Malcolm C. Salaman.</span> 16mo, Paper Covers, <i>1s. +6d.</i>; or Cloth, <i>2s. 6d.</i> each.</center> + +<p>THE TIMES: A Comedy in Four Acts. With a Preface by the Author. (Vol. +I.)</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Daily Telegraph.</i>—"'The Times' is the best example yet given of +Mr. Pinero's power as a satirist. So clever is his work that it +beats down opposition. So fascinating is his style that we cannot +help listening to him."</p> + +<p><i>Morning Post.</i>—"Mr. Pinero's latest belongs to a high order of +dramatic literature, and the piece will be witnessed again with all +the greater zest after the perusal of such admirable dialogue."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE PROFLIGATE: A Play in Four Acts. With Portrait of the Author, after +<span class="smcap">J. Mordecai</span>. (Vol. II.)</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Pall Mall Gazette.</i>—"Will be welcomed by all who have the true +interests of the stage at heart."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE CABINET MINISTER: A Farce in Four Acts. (Vol. III.)</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Observer.</i>—"It is as amusing to read as it was when played."</p></blockquote> + +<p>THE HOBBY HORSE: A Comedy in Three Acts. (Vol. IV.)</p> + +<blockquote><p><i>St. James's Gazette.</i>—"Mr. Pinero has seldom produced better or +more interesting work than in 'The Hobby Horse.'"</p></blockquote> + +<p>LADY BOUNTIFUL: A Play in Four Acts. (Vol. V.)</p> + +<p>THE MAGISTRATE: A Farce in Three Acts. (Vol. VI.)</p> + +<p>DANDY DICK: A Farce in Three Acts. (Vol. VII.)</p> + +<p>SWEET LAVENDER. (Vol. VIII.)</p> + +<center>To be followed by The Schoolmistress, The Weaker Sex, Lords and Commons, +and The Squire.</center> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<a name="s16"></a> + +<h4>Poetry.</h4> + +<p>LOVE SONGS OF ENGLISH POETS, 1500-1800 With Notes by <span class="smcap">Ralph H. Caine</span>. +Fcap. 8vo, rough edges, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<center>⁂ <i>Large Paper Edition, limited to 100 Copies, 10s. 6d. Net.</i></center> + +<p class="hangindent">IVY AND PASSION FLOWER: Poems. By <span class="smcap">Gerard Bendall</span>, Author of "Estelle," +&c. &c. 12mo, cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Scotsman.</i>—"Will be read with pleasure."</p> + +<p><i>Musical World.</i>—"The poems are delicate specimens of art, +graceful and polished."</p></blockquote> + +<p>VERSES. By <span class="smcap">Gertrude Hall</span>. 12mo, cloth, <i>3s. 6d.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Manchester Guardian.</i>—"Will be welcome to every lover of poetry +who takes it up."</p></blockquote> + +<p>IDYLLS OF WOMANHOOD. By <span class="smcap">C. Amy Dawson</span>. Fcap. 8vo, gilt top, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<hr class="short" /> + +<h4>Heinemann's Scientific Handbooks.</h4> + +<p class="hangindent">MANUAL OF BACTERIOLOGY. By <span class="smcap">A. B. Griffiths</span>, Ph.D., F.R.S. (Edin.), +F.C.S. Crown 8vo, cloth, Illustrated. <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Pharmaceutical Journal.</i>—"The subject is treated more thoroughly +and completely than in any similar work published in this +country.... It should prove a useful aid to pharmacists, and all +others interested in the increasingly important subject of which it +treats, and particularly so to those possessing little or no +previous knowledge concerning the problems of micro-biology."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">MANUAL OF ASSAYING GOLD, SILVER, COPPER, AND LEAD ORES. By <span class="smcap">Walter Lee +Brown</span>, B.Sc. Revised, Corrected, and considerably Enlarged, with a +chapter on the Assaying of Fuel, &c. By <span class="smcap">A. B. Griffiths</span>, Ph.D., F.R.S. +(Edin.), F.C.S. Crown 8vo, cloth, Illustrated, <i>7s. 6d.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Colliery Guardian.</i>—"A delightful and fascinating book."</p> + +<p><i>Financial World.</i>—"The most complete and practical manual on +everything which concerns assaying of all which have come before +us."</p></blockquote> + +<p>GEODESY. By <span class="smcap">J. Howard Gore</span>. Crown 8vo, cloth, Illustrated, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>St. James's Gazette.</i>—"The book may be safely recommended to +those who desire to acquire an accurate knowledge of Geodesy."</p> + +<p><i>Science Gossip.</i>—"It is the best we could recommend to all +geodetic students. It is full and clear, thoroughly accurate, and +up to date in all matters of earth-measurements."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">THE PHYSICAL PROPERTIES OF GASES. By <span class="smcap">Arthur L. Kimball</span>, of the Johns +Hopkins University. Crown 8vo, cloth, Illustrated, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Chemical News.</i>—"The man of culture who wishes for a general and +accurate acquaintance with the physical properties of gases, will +find in Mr. Kimball's work just what he requires."</p></blockquote> + +<p class="hangindent">HEAT AS A FORM OF ENERGY. By Professor <span class="smcap">R. H. Thurston</span>, of Cornell +University. Crown 8vo, cloth, Illustrated, <i>5s.</i></p> + +<blockquote><p><i>Manchester Examiner.</i>—"Bears out the character of its +predecessors for careful and correct statement and deduction under +the light of the most recent discoveries."</p></blockquote> + +<hr /> + +<center>LONDON:<br /><br /> +WILLIAM HEINEMANN,<br /><br /> +21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C.<br /><br /> +</center> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection +of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas, by F. Anstey + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MR. 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