Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (255 page)

Rosmer. Yes — if I dared believe you about that.

Rebecca
(wringing her hands)
. But, John, do you know of nothing — nothing — that would make you believe that?

Rosmer
(starts, as if with fear)
. Don’t venture on that subject! No further, Rebecca! Not a single word more!

Rebecca. Indeed, that is just the subject we must venture upon. Do you know of anything that would stifle your doubts? For I know of nothing in the world.

Rosmer. It is best for you not to know. Best for us both.

Rebecca. No, no, no — I have no patience with that sort of thing! If you know of anything that would acquit me in your eyes, I claim it as my right that you should name it.

Rosmer
(as if impelled against his will)
. Well, let us see. You say that you have great love in your heart; that your soul has been ennobled through me. Is that so? Have you counted the cost? Shall we try and balance our accounts? Tell me.

Rebecca. I am quite ready.

Rosmer. Then when shall it be?

Rebecca. Whenever you like. The sooner the better.

Rosmer. Then let me see, Rebecca, whether you — for my sake-this very night — .
(Breaks off.)
Oh, no, no!

Rebecca. Yes, John! Yes, yes! Say it, and you shall see.

Rosmer. Have you the courage — are you willing — gladly, as Ulrik Brendel said — for my sake, to-night — gladly — to go the same way — that Beata went!

Rebecca
(gets up slowly from the couch, and says almost inaudibly)
: John — !

Rosmer. Yes, dear — that is the question I shall never be able to rid my thoughts of, when you have gone away. Every hour of the day I shall come back to it. Ah, I seem to see you bodily before me — standing out on the foot-bridge-right out in the middle. Now you lean out over the railing! You grow dizzy as you feel drawn down towards the mill-race! No — you recoil. You dare not do — what she dared.

Rebecca. But if I had the courage? — and willingly and gladly? What then?

Rosmer. Then I would believe in you. Then I should get back my faith in my mission in life — my faith in my power to ennoble my fellow men — my faith in mankind’s power to be ennobled.

Rebecca
(takes up her shawl slowly, throws it over her head, and says, controlling herself)
: You shall have your faith back.

Rosmer. Have you the courage and the strength of will for that, Rebecca?

Rebecca. Of that you must judge in the morning — or later — when they take up my body.

Rosmer
(burying his head in his hands)
. There is a horrible temptation in this — !

Rebecca. Because I should not like to be left lying there — any longer than need be. You must take care that they find me.

Rosmer
(springing up)
. But all this is madness, you know. Go away, or stay! I will believe you on your bare word this time too.

Rebecca. Those are mere words, John. No more cowardice or evasion! How can you believe me on my bare word after today?

Rosmer. But I do not want to see your defeat, Rebecca.

Rebecca. There will be no defeat.

Rosmer. There will. You will never have the heart to go Beata’s way.

Rebecca. Do you believe that?

Rosmer. Never. You are not like Beata. You are not under the influence of a distorted view of life.

Rebecca. But I am under the influence of the Rosmersholm view of Life — now. Whatever my offences are — it is right that I should expiate them.

Rosmer
(looking at her fixedly)
. Have you come to that decision?

Rebecca. Yes.

Rosmer. Very well. Then I too am under the influence of our unfettered view of life, Rebecca. There is no one that can judge us. And therefore we must be our own judges.

Rebecca
(misunderstanding his meaning)
. That too. That too. My leaving you will save the best that is in you.

Rosmer. Ah, there is nothing left to save in me.

Rebecca. There is. But I — after this I should only be like some sea-sprite hanging on to the barque you are striving to sail forward in, and, hampering its progress. I must go overboard. Do you think I could go through the world bearing the burden of a spoiled life — brooding for ever over the happiness which I have forfeited by my past? I must throw up the game, John.

Rosmer. If you go — then I go with you.

Rebecca
(looks at him with an almost imperceptible smile, and says more gently)
: Yes, come with me, dear — and be witness —

Rosmer. I go with you, I said.

Rebecca. As far as the bridge — yes. You never dare go out on to it, you know.

Rosmer. Have you noticed that?

Rebecca
(in sad and broken tones)
. Yes. That was what made my love hopeless.

Rosmer. Rebecca — now I lay my hand on your head.
(Does as he says.)
And I take you for my true and lawful wife.

Rebecca
(taking both his hands in hers, and bowing her head on to his breast)
. Thank you, John.
(Lets him go.)
And now I am going — gladly.

Rosmer. Man and wife should go together.

Rebecca. Only as far as the bridge, John.

Rosmer. And out on to it, too. As far as you go — so far I go with you. I dare do it now.

Rebecca. Are you absolutely certain that way is the best for you?

Rosmer. I know it is the only way.

Rebecca. But suppose you are only deceiving yourself? Suppose it were only a delusion — one of these White Horses of Rosmersholm?

Rosmer. It may be so. We can never escape from them — we of my race.

Rebecca. Then stay, John!

Rosmer. The man shall cleave to his wife, as the wife to her husband.

Rebecca. Yes, but first tell me this — is it you that go with me, or I that go with you?

Rosmer. We shall never get to the bottom of that.

Rebecca. Yet I should dearly like to know.

Rosmer. We two go with each other, Rebecca. I with you, and you with me.

Rebecca. I almost believe that is true.

Rosmer. For now we two are one.

Rebecca. Yes. We are one now. Come! We can go gladly now.
(They go out, hand in hand, through the hall, and are seen to turn to the left. The door stands open after them. The room is empty for a little while. Then MRS. HELSETH opens the door on the right.)

Mrs. Helseth. The carriage, miss, is — .
(Looks round the room.)
Not here? Out together at this time of night? Well, well — I must say — ! Hm!
(Goes out into the hall, looks round and comes in again.)
Not sitting on the bench — ah, well!
(Goes to the window and looks out.)
Good heavens! What is that white thing — ! As I am a living soul, they are both out on the foot-bridge! God forgive the sinful creatures — if they are not in each other’s arms!
(Gives a wild scream.)
Ah! — they are over — both of them! Over into the mill-race! Help! help!
(Her knees tremble, she holds on shakily to the back of a chair and can scarcely get her words out.)
No. No help here. The dead woman has taken them.

Translated by Eleanor Marx-Aveling

This play was written in Munich in 1888, with the earliest draft dated June 5, 1888, but as usual Ibsen had been considering the subject for some time. A number of elements in the drama derive from his stay in Molde in the summer of 1885. It is assumed that Ibsen used Molde as his model for the little town by a fjord, in the northern part of Norway, where the action takes place.
 
The playwright also heard two legends there that made an impression on him and which he used in the play. One of them told of a Norwegian of Finnish stock whose magically compelling eyes lured a parson’s wife away from her husband and home; whilst the other tale told of a seaman who had been away from home so long that he was thought to be dead, until he suddenly appeared and found his wife married to another man.

The sea was intended to be the central motif of the play right from the beginning. In 1887 Ibsen was in North Jutland, Denmark, where he spent six weeks from mid-July until the end of August in Sæby, on the east coast of the peninsula. It was there that he collected material and found inspiration for this play, while enjoying being near the open sea. He wrote at the time, “The lure of the sea. Longing for the sea. People’s affinity to the sea. Tied to the sea. Dependent on the sea. Compulsion to return to it. A species of fish forming a prototype in the development of species. Are there still rudiments of this in the human mind? In the mind of some individuals?”

The Lady from the Sea
was released in book format on November 28, 1888 at Gyldendalske Boghandels Forlag in Copenhagen and Christiania in an edition of 10,000 copies. On December 27th 1887 Ibsen’s friend and publisher for 22 years, Frederik Hegel, had died. His son Jacob Hegel was ready to take over and so was the publisher of
The Lady from the Sea
. The book received a mixed reception. In general the reviewers were more positive than in the case of
Rosmersholm
, most likely due to the play’s optimistic ending.

The drama was first performed on February 12,
1889 in
both Hoftheater in Weimar and at Christiania Theatre. The latter production was directed by Bjørn Bjørnson, and the parts of Dr. Wangel and Ellida were played by Sigvard and Laura Gundersen. According to a congratulatory telegram received by Ibsen, this production was received with very great acclaim and it had 26 performances in less than two years.

It is a symbolic work, centred upon Ellida, the daughter of a lighthouse-keeper, who was raised in a blissful childhood, where the fjord meets the open sea. She is married to Doctor Wangel, a doctor in a small town in West Norway, who has two daughters, Bolette and Hilde, by his previous wife. Heand Ellida had a son who died as a baby, causing strains on the marriage. Fearing for Ellida’s mental health, Wangel has invited Arnholm, Bolette’s former tutor and now the headmaster of a school, in the hope that he can help Ellida.

Molde, Norway — the town that inspired the setting of ‘The Lady from the Sea’