Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (232 page)

GREGERS.
What do you mean?

HIALMAR.
She is in serious danger of losing her eyesight.

GREGERS.
Becoming blind?

HIALMAR.
Yes. Only the first symptoms have appeared as yet, and she may not feel it much for some time. But the doctor has warned us. It is coming, inexorably.

GREGERS.
What a terrible misfortune! How do you account for it?

HIALMAR
[sighs.]
Hereditary, no doubt.

GREGERS
[starting.]
Hereditary?

GINA.
Ekdal’s mother had weak eyes.

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

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

HIALMAR.
Oh, you can imagine we haven’t the heart to tell her of it. She dreams of no danger. Gay and careless and chirping like a little bird, she flutters onward into a life of endless night.
[Overcome.]
Oh, it is cruelly hard on me, Gregers.
[HEDVIG brings a tray with beer and glasses, which she sets upon the table.]

HIALMAR
[stroking her hair.]
Thanks, thanks, Hedvig.

[HEDVIG puts her arm round his neck and whispers in his ear.]

HIALMAR.
No, no bread and butter just now.
[Looks up.]
But perhaps you would like some, Gregers.

GREGERS
[with a gesture of refusal.]
No, no thank you.

HIALMAR
[still melancholy.]
Well, you can bring in a little all the same. If you have a crust, that is all I want. And plenty of butter on it, mind.

[HEDVIG nods gaily and goes out into the kitchen again.]

GREGERS
[who has been following her with his eyes.]
She seems quite strong and healthy otherwise.

GINA.
Yes. In other ways there’s nothing amiss with her, thank goodness.

GREGERS.
She promises to be very like you, Mrs. Ekdal. How old is she now?

GINA.
Hedvig is close on fourteen; her birthday is the day after to-morrow.

GREGERS.
She is pretty tall for her age, then.

GINA.
Yes, she’s shot up wonderful this last year.

GREGERS.
It makes one realise one’s own age to see these young people growing up. — How long is it now since you were married?

GINA.
We’ve been married — let me see — just on fifteen years.

GREGERS.
Is it so long as that?

GINA
[becomes attentive; looks at him.]
Yes, it is indeed.

HIALMAR.
Yes, so it is. Fifteen years all but a few months.
[Changing his tone.]
They must have been long years for you, up at the works, Gregers.

GREGERS.
They seemed long — while I was living them; now they are over, I hardly know how the time has gone.
[OLD EKDAL comes from his room without his pipe, but with his old-fashioned uniform cap on his head; his gait is somewhat unsteady.]

EKDAL.
Come now, Hialmar, let’s sit down and have a good talk about this — h’m — what was it again?

HIALMAR
[going towards him.]
Father, we have a visitor here — Gregers Werle. — I don’t know if you remember him.

EKDAL
[looking at GREGERS, who has risen.]
Werle? Is that the son? What does he want with me?

HIALMAR.
Nothing; it’s me he has come to see.

EKDAL.
Oh! Then there’s nothing wrong?

HIALMAR.
No, no, of course not.

EKDAL
[with a large gesture.]
Not that I’m afraid, you know; but —

GREGERS
[goes over to him.]
I bring you a greeting from your old hunting-grounds, Lieutenant Ekdal.

EKDAL.
Hunting-grounds?

GREGERS.
Yes, up in Hoidal, about the works, you know.

EKDAL.
Oh, up there. Yes, I knew all those places well in the old days.

GREGERS.
You were a great sportsman then.

EKDAL.
So I was, I don’t deny it. You’re looking at my uniform cap. I don’t ask anybody’s leave to wear it in the house. So long as I don’t go out in the streets with it —
[HEDVIG brings a plate of bread and butter, which she puts upon the table.]

HIALMAR.
Sit down, father, and have a glass of beer. Help yourself, Gregers.
[EKDAL mutters and stumbles over to the sofa. GREGERS seats himself on the chair nearest to him, HIALMAR on the other side of GREGERS. GINA sits a little way from the table, sewing; HEDVIG stands beside her father.]

GREGERS.
Can you remember, Lieutenant Ekdal, how Hialmar and I used to come up and visit you in the summer and at Christmas?

EKDAL.
Did you? No, no, no; I don’t remember it. But sure enough I’ve been a tidy bit of a sportsman in my day. I’ve shot bears too. I’ve shot nine of ‘em, no less.

GREGERS
[looking sympathetically at him.]
And now you never get any shooting?

EKDAL.
Can’t just say that, sir. Get a shot now and then perhaps. Of course not in the old way. For the woods you see — the woods, the woods — !
[Drinks.]
Are the woods fine up there now?

GREGERS.
Not so fine as in your time. They have been thinned a good deal.

EKDAL.
Thinned?
[More softly, and as if afraid.]
It’s dangerous work that. Bad things come of it. The woods revenge themselves.

HIALMAR
[filling up his glass.]
Come — a little more, father.

GREGERS.
How can a man like you — such a man for the open air — live in the midst of a stuffy town, boxed within four walls?

EKDAL
[laughs quietly and glances at HIALMAR.]
Oh, it’s not so bad here. Not at all so bad.

GREGERS.
But don’t you miss all the things that used to be a part of your very being — the cool sweeping breezes, the free life in the woods and on the uplands, among beasts and birds — ?

EKDAL
[smiling.]
Hialmar, shall we let him see it?

HIALMAR
[hastily and a little embarrassed.]
Oh, no no, father; not this evening.

GREGERS.
What does he want to show me?

HIALMAR.
Oh, it’s only something — you can see it another time.

GREGERS
[continues, to the old man.]
You see I have been thinking, Lieutenant Ekdal, that you should come up with me to the works; I am sure to be going back soon. No doubt you could get some copying there too. And here, you have nothing on earth to interest you — nothing to liven you up.

EKDAL
[stares in astonishment at him.]
Have I nothing on earth to — !

GREGERS.
Of course you have Hialmar; but then he has his own family. And a man like you, who has always had such a passion for what is free and wild —

EKDAL
[thumps the table.]
Hialmar, he shall see it!

HIALMAR.
Oh, do you think it’s worth while, father? It’s all dark.

EKDAL.
Nonsense; it’s moonlight.
[Rises.]
He shall see it, I tell you. Let me pass! Come and help me, Hialmar.

HEDVIG.
Oh yes, do, father!

HIALMAR
[rising.]
Very well then.

GREGERS
[to GINA.]
What is it?

GINA.
Oh, nothing so very wonderful, after all.
[EKDAL and HIALMAR have gone to the back wall and are each pushing back a side of the sliding door; HEDVIG helps the old man; GREGERS remains standing by the sofa; GINA sits still and sews. Through the open doorway a large, deep irregular garret is seen with odd nooks and corners; a couple of stove-pipes running through it, from rooms below. There are skylights through which clear moonbeams shine in on some parts of the great room; others lie in deep shadow.]

EKDAL
[to GREGERS.]
You may come close up if you like.

GREGERS
[going over to them.]
Why, what is it?

EKDAL.
Look for yourself. H’m.

HIALMAR
[somewhat embarrassed.]
This belongs to father, you understand.

GREGERS
[at the door, looks into the garret.]
Why, you keep poultry, Lieutenant Ekdal.

EKDAL.
Should think we did keep poultry. They’ve gone to roost now. But you should just see our fowls by daylight, sir!

HEDVIG.
And there’s a —

EKDAL.
Sh — sh! don’t say anything about it yet.

GREGERS.
And you have pigeons too, I see.

EKDAL.
Oh yes, haven’t we just got pigeons! They have their nest-boxes up there under the roof-tree; for pigeons like to roost high, you see.

HIALMAR.
They aren’t all common pigeons.

EKDAL.
Common! Should think not indeed! We have tumblers, and a pair of pouters, too. But come here! Can you see that hutch down there by the wall?

GREGERS.
Yes; what do you use it for?

EKDAL.
That’s where the rabbits sleep, sir.

GREGERS.
Dear me; so you have rabbits too?

EKDAL.
Yes, you may take my word for it, we have rabbits! He wants to know if we have rabbits, Hialmar! H’m! But now comes the thing, let me tell you! Here we have it! Move away, Hedvig. Stand here; that’s right, — and now look down there. — Don’t you see a basket with straw in it?

GREGERS.
Yes. And I can see a fowl lying in the basket.

EKDAL.
H’m—”a fowl”

GREGERS.
Isn’t it a duck?

EKDAL
[hurt.]
Why, of course it’s a duck.

HIALMAR.
But what kind of duck, do you think?

HEDVIG.
It’s not just a common duck —

EKDAL.
Sh!

GREGERS.
And it’s not a Muscovy duck either.

EKDAL.
No, Mr. — Werle; it’s not a Muscovy duck; for it’s a wild duck!

GREGERS.
Is it really? A wild duck?

EKDAL.
Yes, that’s what it is. That “fowl” as you call it — is the wild duck. It’s our wild duck, sir.

HEDVIG.
My wild duck. It belongs to me.

GREGERS.
And can it live up here in the garret? Does it thrive?

EKDAL.
Of course it has a trough of water to splash about in, you know.

HIALMAR.
Fresh water every other day.

GINA
[turning towards HIALMAR.]
But my dear Ekdal, it’s getting icy cold here.

EKDAL.
H’m, we had better shut up then. It’s as well not to disturb their night’s rest, too. Close up, Hedvig.
[HIALMAR and HEDVIG push the garret doors together.]

EKDAL.
Another time you shall see her properly.
[Seats himself in the arm-chair by the stove.]
Oh, they’re curious things, these wild ducks, I can tell you.

GREGERS.
How did you manage to catch it, Lieutenant Ekdal?

EKDAL.
I didn’t catch it. There’s a certain man in this town whom we have to thank for it.

GREGERS
[starts slightly.]
That man was not my father, was he?

EKDAL.
You’ve hit it. Your father and no one else. H’m.

HIALMAR.
Strange that you should guess that, Gregers.

GREGERS.
You were telling me that you owed so many things to my father; and so I thought perhaps —

GINA.
But we didn’t get the duck from Mr. Werle himself —