Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas - Part 16
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Part 16

"Father, a word with you in private: I loathe you." ]

OLD WERLE.

True--but then no more is Mrs. Sorby. And _I_ am going to marry _her_--if you have no objection, that is.

GREGERS.

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 n.o.bility? I am not so overstrained as all that. But really I can_not_ 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 _so_ much obliged to me!

[_Takes his hat, and goes out._

OLD WERLE.

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!

[_Curtain._

* * * * *

ACT SECOND

HIALMAR EKDAL'S _Photographic Studio. Cameras, neck-rests, and other instruments of torture lying about._ GINA EKDAL _and_ HEDVIG, _her daughter, aged 14, and wearing spectacles, discovered sitting up for_ HIALMAR.

HEDVIG.

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!

HIALMAR.

[_Coming in, in evening dress._] And he has not forgotten his promise, my child. Behold! [_He presents her with the menu card_; HEDVIG _gulps down her tears_; HIALMAR _notices her disappointment, with annoyance_.]

And this all the grat.i.tude 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 _beer_ now! What a selfish brute I am! [_Relenting._] You may bring me just a little drop. [_He bursts into tears._] I will play you a plaintive Bohemian dance on my flute. [_He does._] No beer at such a sacred moment as this! [_He drinks._] Ha, this is real domestic bliss!

[GREGERS WERLE _comes in, in a countrified suit_.

GREGERS.

I have left my father's home--dinner-party and all--for ever. I am coming to lodge with you.

HIALMAR.

[_Still melancholy._] Have some bread and b.u.t.ter. You won't?--then I _will_. I want it, after your father's lavish hospitality. [HEDVIG _goes to fetch bread and b.u.t.ter_.] My daughter--a poor short-sighted little thing--but mine own.

GREGERS.

My father has had to take to strong gla.s.ses, too--he can hardly see after dinner. [_To_ OLD EKDAL, _who stumbles in very drunk_.] How can you, Lieutenant Ekdal, who were such a keen sportsman once, live in this poky little hole?

OLD EKDAL.

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. [_He goes to sleep on a sofa._

HIALMAR.

[_With pride._] It is quite true. You shall see.

[_He pushes back sliding doors, and reveals a garret full of rabbits and poultry--moonlight effect._ HEDVIG _returns with bread and b.u.t.ter_.

HEDVIG.

[_To_ GREGERS.] 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 t.i.tle, you know, and has to be brought into the dialogue a good deal.

Your father peppered her out shooting, and we saved her life.

HIALMAR.

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 _will_ 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 _didn't_ 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.

[_He eats some bread and b.u.t.ter._

GREGERS.

But you ought _not_ 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!

[_He goes out._

GINA AND HEDVIG.

What _was_ the gentleman talking about, father?

HIALMAR.

[_Eating bread and b.u.t.ter._] He has been dining, you know. No matter--what _we_ have to do now, is to put my disreputable old whitehaired pariah of a parent to bed.

[_He and_ GINA _lift_ OLD ECCLES--_we mean_ OLD EKDAL--_up by the legs and arms, and take him off to bed as the Curtain falls_.

* * * * *

ACT THREE

HIALMAR'S _Studio. A photograph has just been taken._ GINA _and_ HEDVIG _are tidying up._

GINA.

[_Apologetically._] There _should_ have been a luncheon-party in this act, with Dr. Relling and Molvik, 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.

[HEDVIG _goes_.

HIALMAR.