[At Werle's house. A richly and comfortably furnished study ; bookcases and upholstered furni- ture; a ivriting-iable, zvith papers and documents^ in the centre of the room; lighted tamps ivith green shades, giving a subdued light. At the back, open folding doors zvith curtains drawn back. Within is seen a large and handsome room, brilliantly lighted with lamps and branching candlesticks. In front, on the right {in the study), a small baize door leads
<-*. into Werle's office. On the left, in front, afire- place with a glowing coal fire, and farther back a double door leading into the dining-room.]
[Werle's servant, Pettersen, in livery, and Jensen, the hired waiter, in black, are putting the study in order. In the targe room, fivo or three other hired Waiters are moving about, arranging things and • lighting more candles. From the dining-room, % the hum of conversation and laughter of many voices
2
4 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
are heard; a glass is tapped with a knife; silence
follows^ and a toast is proposed; shouts of
" Bravo!" and then again a buzz of conversation.]
PtiTERSEN.
[Lights a lamp on the chimney-piece and pious a shade over it.] Hark to them, Jensen! now the old man's on his legs holding a long palaver about Mrs. Sdrby.
J ENSEN.
[Pushing forward an arm-chair.] Is it true, what folks say, that they're — very good friends, eh ?
Pettersen.
Lord knows.
Jensen.
I've heard tell as he's been a lively customer in his day.
Pettersen.
May be.
Jensen.
And he's giving this spread in honour of his son, they say.
Pettersen. Yes. His son came home yesterday.
Jensen.
This is the first time I ever heard as Mr. Werle had a son.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 5
Pettersen.
Oh yes, he has a son, right enough. But he's a fixture, as you might say, up at the Hoidal works. He's never once come to town all the years I've been in service here.
A Waiter.
[In the doorway of the other room.] Pettersen, here's an old fellow wanting
Pettersen. [ Mutters.] The devil — who's this now ?
[Old Ekdal appears from the rights in the inner room. He is dressed in a fhreadbate overcoat with a high collar; he wears woollen mittens \ and carries in his hand a stick and a fur cap. Under his arm t a brown paper parcel. Dirty red-brown wig and small grey moustache^]
Pettersen.
[Goes towards him.] Good Lord — what do you want here ?
Ekdal.
[In the doorway.] Must get into the office, Pet- tersen.
Pettersen. The office was closed an hour ago, and
6 THE WILD DUCK. [Acr I.
Ekdal.
So they told me at the front door. But Graberg's in there still \jeX me slip in this way, Pettersen ; there's a good fellow. {Points towards the baize door.] It's not the first time I've come this way.
Pettersen.
Well, you may pass. [Opens the door.] But mind you go out again the proper way, for we've got company.
Ekdal.
I know, I know — hm ! Thanks, Pettersen, good old friend! Thanks! [Mutters softly.] Ass!
[He goes into the office ; Pettersen shuts the door after him.]
Jensen. Is h e one of the office people ?
Pettersen.
No, he's only an outside hand that does odd jobs of copying. But he's been a tip-topper in his day, has old Ekdal.
Jensen. You can see he's been through a lot.
Pettersen. Yes ; he was an army officer, you know.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 7
Jensen. You don't say so ?
Pettersen.
No mistake about it. But then he went into the timber trade or something of the sort. They say he once played Mr. Werle a very nasty trick. They were partners in the Hoidal works at the time. Oh, I know old Ekdal well, I do. Many a nip of bitters and bottle of ale we two have drunk at Madam Eriksen's.
Jensen.
He don't look as if he'd much to stand treat with.
Pettersen.
Why, bless you, Jensen, it's m e that stands treat. I always think there's no harm in being a bit civil to folks that have seen better days.
Jensen. Did he go bankrupt then ?
Pettersen. Worse than that. He went to prison.
To prison !
Jensen.
Pettersen.
Or perhaps it was the Penitentiary. [Lis/ens.] Sh J They're leaving the table.
8 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
[ The dining-room door is thrown open from within, by a couple of waiters. Mrs. Sorby comes out conversing with two gentlemen. Gradually the whole company follows, amongst them Werle. Last come Hialmar Ekdal and Gregers Werle.]
Mrs. Sorby.
[In passing, to the servant.'] Tell them to serve the coffee in the music-room, Pettersen.
Pettersen. Very well, Madam.
[She goes with the two Gentlemen into the inner room, and thence out to the right. Pettersen and Jensen go out the same
way.]
A Flabby Gentleman.
[To a Thin-haired Gentleman.] Whew ! What a dinner ! — It was no joke to do it justice !
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
Oh, with a little good-will one can get through a tot in three hours.
The Flabby Gentleman.
Yes, but afterwards, afterwards, my dear Chamber- lain !
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 9
A Third Gentleman.
I hear the coffee and maraschino are to be served in the music-room.
The Flabby Gentleman.
Bravo ! Then perhaps Mrs. Sorby will play us something.
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
[/;/ a low voice.] I hope Mrs. Sorby mayn't play us a tune we don't like, one of these days !
The Flabby Gentleman.
Oh no, not she! Bertha will never turn against her old friends.
[They laugh and pass into the inner room.]
Werle.
[/// a lotv voice, dejectedly.] I don't think anybody noticed it, Gregers.
Gregers. [Looks at him.] Noticed what ?
Werlf. Did you not notice it either ?
Gregers. What do you mean ?
10 THE WILD DUCK, [Act I.
Werle. We were thirteen at table.
Gregers. v Indeed ? Were there thirteen of us ?
Werle.
[G/ances towards Hialmar Ekdal.] Our usual party is twelve. [To the others.] This way, gentle* men!
[ Werle and the others, all except Hialmar and Gregers, go out bx the back, to the right]
Hialmar.
[ Who has overheard the conversation ] You ought not to have invited me, Gregers.
Gregers.
What ! Not ask my best and only friend to a party supposed to be in my honour !
Hialmar.
But I don't think your father likes it. You see I am quite outside his circle.
Gregers.
So I hear. But I wanted to see you and have a talk with you, and I certainly shan't be staying long. — Ah, we two old schoolfellows have drifted far apart
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, n
from each other. It must be sixteen or seventeen years since we met
Hialmar. Is it so long ?
Gregers.
It is indeed Well, how goes it with you? You look well. You have put on flesh, and grown almost stout.
Hialmar.
Well, " stout " is scarcely the word ; but I daresay I look a little more of a man than I used to.
Gregers.
Yes, you do; your outer man is in first-rate condition.
' Hialmar.
[/// a tone of gloom.] Ah, but the inner man ! That is a very different matter, I can tell you! Of course you know of the terrible catastrophe that has befallen me and mine since last we met.
Gregers.
[More softly.'] How are things going with your father now ?
Hialmar.
Don't let us talk of it, old fellow. Of course my poor unhappy father lives with me. He hasn't another soul in the world to care for him. But you
12 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
can understand that this is a miserable subject for me. — Tell me, rather, how you have been getting on up at the works.
I have had a delightfully lonely time of it — plenty of leisure to think and think about things. — Come over here ; we may as well make ourselves comfortable.
[He seats himself in an arm-chair by the fire and draws Hialmar down into another alongside of it.]
Hialmar.
[Sentimentally.] After all, Gregers, I thank you for inviting me to your father's table ; for I take it as a sign that you have got over your feeling against me.
Gregers.
[Surprised.] How could you imagine I had any feeling against you ?
Hialmar. You had at first, you know.
Gregers.
How at first ?
Hialmar.
After the great misfortune. It was natural enough that you should. Your father was within an ace of being drawn into that — well, that terrible business.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, 13
Gregers.
Why should that give me any feeling against you ? Who can have put that into your head ?
Hialmar.
I know it did, Gregers; your father told me so him- self.
Gregers.
[Starts.] My father! Oh indeed. Hm.-— Was. that why you never let me hear from you? — not a single word.
Hialmar.
Yes.
Gregers.
Not even when you made up your mind to become a photographer ?
Hialmar.
Your father said I had better not write to you at ail, about anything.
Gregers.
[Looking straight before him,'] Well well, perhaps he was right. — But tell me now, Hialmar: are you pretty well satisfied with your present position ?
Hialmar.
[ With a little sigh.] Oh yes, I am ; I have really no cause to complain. At first, as you may guess, I felt it a little strange. It was such a totally new state
U THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
of things for me. But of course my whole cir- cumstances were totally changed. Father's utter, irretrievable ruin, — the shame and disgrace of it,
Gregers
Gregers.
[Affected.'] Yes, yes ; I understand.
Hialmar.
I couldn't think of remaining at college; there wasn't a shilling to spare ; on the contrary, there were debts — mainly to your father I believe
Gregers.
Hm
Hialmar.
In short, I thought it best to break, once for all, with my old surroundings and associations. It was your father that specially urged me to it ; and since he interested himself so much in me
Gregers. My father did ?
Hialmar.
Yes, you surely knew that, didn't you ? Where do you suppose I found the money to learn photography, and to furnish a studio and make a start? All that costs a pretty penny, I can tell you.
Gregers. And my father provided the money ?
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, 15
HlALMAR.
Yes, my dear fellow, didn't you know ? I under- stood him to say he had written to you about it.
Gregers.
Not a word about his part" in the business. He must have forgotten it. Our correspondence has always been purely a business one. So it was my father that !
HlALMAR.
Yes, certainly. He didn't wish it to be generally known ; but he it was And of course it was he, too, that put me in a position to marry. Don't you — don't you know abou,t that either ?
Gregers.
No, I haven't heard a word of it. \ Shakes him by the arm.] But, my dear Hialmar, I can't tell you what pleasure all this gives me — pleasure, and self-reproach. I have perhaps done my father injustice after all — in some things. This proves that he has a heart It shows a sort of compunction
HlALMAR.
Compunction-
Gregers.
Yes, yes— whatever you like to call it. Oh, I can't tell you how glad I am to hear this of father.— So you are a married man, Hialmar ! That is further than I
16 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
shall ever get. Well, I hope you are happy in your married life ?
Hialmar.
Yes, thoroughly happy. She is as good and capable a wife as any man could wish for. And she is by no means without culture.
Gregers. [Rather surprised.'] No, of course not.
Hialmar.
You see, life is itself an education. Her daily
intercourse with me And then we know one or
two rather remarkable men, who come a good deal about us. I assure you you would hardly know Gina again.
Gregers. Gina?
Hialmar. Yes ; had you forgotten that her name was Gina ?
Gregers. Whose name ? I haven't the slightest idea
Hialmar.
Don't you remember that she used to ba in service here?
Gregers.
[Looks at him.'] Is it Gina Hansen ?
Act L] THE WILD DUCK. 17
HlALMAR.
: Yes, of course it is Gina Hansen.
Gregers. -who kept house for us during the last year of
my mother's illness ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, exactly. But, my dear friend, I'm quite sure your father told you that I was married.
Gregers.
\Wfio has risen.] Oh yes, he mentioned it; but
not that [Walking about the room.] Stay —
perhaps he did — now that I think of it. My father always writes such short letters. [Half seats himself on the arm of the chair.] Now, tell me, Hialmar — this is interesting — how did you come to know Gina — your wife ?
HlALMAR.
The simplest thing in the world. You know Gina did not stay here long ; everything was so much upset at that time, owing to your mother's illness and so forth, that Gina was not equal to it all; so she gave notice and left. That was the year before your mother died — or it may have been the same year.
Gregers.
It was the same year. I was up at the works then. But afterwards ?
iS THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
HlALMAR.
Well, Gina lived at home with her mother. Madam Hansen, an excellent hard-working woman, who kept a little eating-house. She had a room to let too; a very nice comfortable room.
Gregers. And I suppose you were lucky enough to secure it?
HlALMAR.
Yes; in fact, it was your father that recommended it to me. So it was there, you see, that I really came to know Gina.
Gregers. And then you got engaged ?
HlALMAR.
Yes. It doesn't take young people long to fall in love ; hm
Gregers. [Rises and moves about a little.] Tell me : was it after your engagement — was it then that my father — I mean was it then that you began to take up photo- graphy?
HlALMAR.
Yes, precisely. I wanted to make a start, and to set up house as soon as possible; and your father
Act I] THE WILD DUCK. 19
and I agreed that this photography business was the readiest way. Gina thought so too. Oh, and there was another thing in its favour, by-thebye : it happened, luckily, that Gina had learnt to retouch.
Gregers. That chimed in marvellously.
Hialmar.
[Pleased, rises.] Yes, didn't it? Don't you think it was a marvellous piece of luck ?
Gregers.
Oh, unquestionably. My father seems to have been almost a kind of providence for you.
Hialmar.
[ With emotion.] He did not forsake his old friend's son in the hour of his need. For he has a heart, you see.
Mrs. Sorby.
[Enters, arm-in-arm with Werle.] Nonsense, my dear Mr. Werle; you mustn't stop there any longer staring at all the lights. It's very bad for you.
Werle.
[Lets go her arm and passes his hand over his eyes.] I daresay you are right.
[Pettersen and Jensen carry rouni refresh- ment trays.]
3
20 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
Mrs. Sorby.
[To the Gufsts in the other room.] This way, if you please, gentlemen. Whoever wants a glass of punch must be so good as to come in here
The Flabby Gentleman.
[Comes up to Mrs. S5rby.] Surely it isn't possible that you have suspended our cherished right to smoke?
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes. No smoking here, in Mr. Werle's sanctum, Chamberlain.
The Thin haired Gentleman.
When did you enact these stringent amendments on the cigar law, Mrs. Sorby ?
Mrs. Sorby.
After the last dinner, Chamberlain, when certain persons permitted themselves to overstep the mark. ■
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
And may one never overstep the mark a little bit, Madame Bertha ? Not the least little bit ?
Mrs. Sorby.
Not in any respect whatsoever, Mr. Balle.
[Most of the Guests have assembled in the study; servants hand round glasses of punch.]
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 21
Werle.
[ To Hi almar, who is standing beside a table.] What are you studying so intently, Ekdal ?
Hialmar. Only an album, Mr. Werle.
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
[Who is wandering about.] Ah, photographs! They are quite in your line of course.
The Flabby Gentleman.
[Jn an arm-chair.] Haven't you brought any of your own with you ? %
Hialmar. No, I haven't.
The Flabby Gentleman.
You ought to have; it's very good for the digestion to sit and look at pictures.
The Thin-haired Gentleman. And it contributes to the entertainment, you know.
The Short-sighted Gentleman. And all contributions are thankfully received.
22 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
Mrs. Sorby.
The Chamberlains think that when one is invited out to dinner, one ought to exert oneself a little in return, Mr. Ekdal.
The Flabby Gentleman.
Where one dines so well, that duty becomes a pleasure.
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
And when it's a case of the struggle for existence, you know
Mrs. S6rby.
I quite agree with you !
[They continue the conversation, with laughter and joking.]
Gregers. [So/tfy.] You must join in, Hialmar.
Hialmar. [ Writhing,] What am I to talk about ?
The Flabby Gentleman.
Don't you think, Mr. Werle, that Tokay may be considered one of the more wholesome sorts of wine ?
Werle.
[By the fire.] I can answer for the Tokay you had to-day, at any rate; it's of one of the very finest seasons. Of course you would notice that.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 23
The Flabby Gentleman. Yes, it had a remarkably delicate flavour.
Hialmar.
[S/^/y.] Is there any difference between the seasons ?
The Flabby Gentleman. [Laughs.] Come ! That's good !
Werle.
[Smiles.'] It really doesn't pay to set fine wine before you.
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
Tokay is like photographs, Mr. Ekdal : they both need sunshine. Am I not right ?
Hialmar. Yes, light is important no doubt.
Mrs. Sorby.
And it's exactly the same with Chamberlains — they, too, depend very much on sunshine, 1 as the saying is.
The Thin-haired Gentleman. Oh fie ! That's a very threadbare sarcasm !
1 The ** sunshine " of Court favour.
24 THE WILD DUCK. [Act L
The Short-sighted Gentleman. Mrs. Sorby is coming out
The Flabby Gentleman.
and at our expense, too. [Holds up his finger
reprovingly.] Oh, Madame Bertha, Madame Bertha!
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, and there's not the least doubt that the seasons differ greatly. The old vintages are the finest
The Short-sighted Gentleman. Do you reckon me among the old vintages ?
Mrs. Sorby. Oh, far from it.
The Thin-haired Gentleman. There now ! But m e, dear Mrs. Sorby ?
The Flabby Gentleman.
Yes, and me? What vintage should you say that we belong to ?
Mrs. Sorby.
Why, to the sweet vintages, gentlemen.
[S/ie sips a glass of punch. The gentlemen laugh and flirt with her.]
Act I ] THE WILD DUCK. 25
Werle.
Mrs. Sorby can always find a loop-hole — when she wants to. Fill your glasses, gentlemen ! Pettersen,
will you see to it ! Gregers, suppose we have a
glass together. [Gregers does not move.] Won't you join us, Ekdal? I found no opportunity of drinking with you at table.
[GrAberg, the Bookkeeper, looks in at the baize door.]
GrAberg. Excuse me, sir, but I can't get out.
Werle. Have you been locked in again ?
GrAberg. Yes, and Flakstad has carried off the keys.
Werle. Well, you can pass out this way.
GrAberg. But there's some one else
Werle.
All right; come through, both of you. Don't be afraid.
[GrAberg and Old Ekdal come out of the office.]
36 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
Werle.
[Involuntarily.] Ugh !
[The laughter and talk among the Guests cease. Hialmar starts at the sight of his father, puts down his glass, and turns to- wards the fireplace.}
Ekdal.
[Does not look up, but makes little bows to both sides as he passes, murmuring-] Beg pardon, come the wrong way. Door locked — door locked. Beg pardon.
[He and GrAberg go out by the back, to the right.]
Werle. [Between his teeth.] That idiot Graberg !
Gregers.
[Open-mouthed and staring, to Hialmar.] Why surely that wasn't !
The Flabby Gentleman. What's the matter ? Who was it ?
Gregers.
Oh, nobody; only the bookkeeper and some one with him.
The Short-sighted Gentleman. [To Hialmar.] Did you know that man?
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 27
HlALMAR.
I don't know — I didn't notice
The Flabby Gentleman. What the deuce has come over every one ?
[He joins another group who are talking softly.]
Mrs. Sorby.
[ Whispers to the Servant.] Give him something to take with him ; — something good, mind.
Pettersen. [Nods.] I'll see to it. [Goes out.]
Gregers.
[Softly and with emotion, to Hialmar.] So that was really he !
Hialmar.
Yes.
Gregers.
And you could stand there and deny that you knew him !
Hialmar.
[ Whispers vehemently.] But how could I !
Gregers. acknowledge your own father?
28 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
HlALMAR.
[With pain.] Oh, if you were in my place
[T/ie conversation amongst the Guests, which has been carried on in a low tone, now sivells into constrained joviality.]
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
[Approaching Hialmar and Gregers in a friendly manner.] Aha ! Reviving old college memories, eh? Don't you smoke, Mr. Ekdal? May I give you a light ? Oh, by-the-bye, we mustn't
Hialmar. No, thank you, I won't
The Flabby Gentleman.
Haven't you a nice little poem you could recite to us, Mr. Ekdal ? You used to recite so charmingly.
Hialmar. I am sorry I can't remember anything.
The Flabby Gentleman.
Oh, that's a pity. Well, what shall we do, Balle ? [Both Gentlemen move away and pass into the other room.]
Hialmar. \Gloomily.] Gregers — I am going! When a man
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 29
has felt the crushing hand of Fate, you see Say
good-bye to your father for me.
Gregers. Yes, yes. Are you going straight home ?
Hialmar. Yes. Why?
Gregers. Oh, because I may perhaps look in on you later.
^ J Hialmar.
No, you mustn't do that. You must not come to my home. Mine is a melancholy abode, Gregers; especially after a splendid banquet like this. We can always arrange to meet somewhere in the town.
Mrs. Sorby.
[Who has quietly approached.'] Are you going, Ekdal?
Hialmar. Yes.
Mrs. Sorby.
Remember me to Gina.
Hialmar. Thanks.
Mrs. Sorby.
And say I am coming up to see her one of these days.
30 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
HlALMAR.
Yes, thank you. [To Gregers.] Stay here; I will slip out unobserved.
[He saunters away, then into the other room, and so out to the right.]
Mrs. Sorby.
[Softly to the Servant, who has come back.] Well, did you give the old man something?
Pettersen. Yes ; I sent him off with a bottle of cognac
Mrs. Sorby.
Oh, you might have thought of something better than that.
Pettersen.
Oh no, Mrs. Sorby; cognac is what he likes best in the world.
The Flabby Gentleman.
[In the doorway, with a sheet of music in his hand.] Shall we play a duet, Mrs. Sorby ?
Mrs. Sorby. Yes, suppose we do.
The Guests. Bravo, bravo !
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, 31
[She goes with all the Guests through the back room, out to the right Gregers remains standing by the fire, Werle is looking for something on the writing-table, and appears to wish that Gregers would go; as Gregers does not move, Werle goes to- wards the door,]
Gregers. Father, won't you stay a moment?
Werle. [Stops,] What is it ?
Gregers. I must have a word with you.
Werle. Can it not wait till we are alone ?
Gregers.
No, it cannot ; for perhaps we shall never be alone together.
Werle.
[Drawing nearer,] What do you mean by that ?
[During what follows, the pianoforte is faintly heard from the distant music-room,]
32 THE WILD DUCK. [Act L
Gregers,
How has that family been allowed to go so miser- ably to the wall ?
Werle.
You mean the Ekdals, I suppose.
Gregers.
Yes, I mean the Ekdals. Lieutenant Ekdal *was once so closely associated with you.
Werle.
Much too closely; I have felt that to my cost for many a year. It is thanks to him that I — yes /— have had a kind of slur cast upon my reputation.
Gregers. [Softly.] Are you sure that he alone was to blame?
Werle. Who else do you suppose ?
Gregers.
You and he acted together in that affair of the forests
Werle.
But was it not Ekdal that drew the map of the tracts we had bought— that fraudulent map! It was he who felled all that timber illegally on Government
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, 33
ground. In fact, the whole management was in his hands. 1 was quite in the dark as to what Lieutenant Ekdal was doing.
Gregers.
Lieutenant Ekdal himself seems to have been very much in the dark as to what he was doing.
Werle.
That may be. But the fact remains that he was found guilty and I acquitted.
Gregers. Yes, I know that nothing was proved against you.
Werle.
Acquittal is acquittal. Why do you rake up these old miseries that turned my hair grey before its time? Is that the sort of thing you have been brooding over up there, all these years? I can assure you, Gregers, here in the town the whole story has been forgotten long ago — so far as / am concerned.
Gregers. But that unhappy Ekdal family !
Werle.
What would you have had me do for the people? When Ekdal came out of prison he was a broken-down being, past all help. Thexe_are- people in the world who dive to the bottom the moment they get a couple
34 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
^ of slugs in their body, and never come to the surface again. You may take my word for it, Gregers, I have "done all I could without positively laying myself open <sjo all sorts of suspicion and gossip
Gregers. Suspicion ? Oh, I see.
Werle.
I have given Ekdal copying to do for the office, and I pay him far, far more for it than his work is
worth
Gregers.
[Without looking at him.] Hm; that I don't doubt.
Werle.
You laugh ? Do you think I'm not telling you the truth ? Well, I certainly can't refer you to my books, for I never enter payments of that sort.
Gregers.
[Smiles coldly.] No, there are certain payments it is best to keep no account of.
Werle. [Taken aback.] What do you mean by that ?
Gregers.
[Mustering up courage.] Have you entered what it cost you to have Hialmar Ekdal taught photography?
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. . 3$
Werle. 1? How "entered" it?
Gregers.
I have learnt that it was you who paid for his train- ing. And I have learnt, too, that it was you who enabled him to set up house so comfortably.
Werle.
Well, and yet you talk as though I had done nothing for the Ekdals ! I can assure you these people have cost me enough in all conscience.
Gregers.
Have you entered any of these expenses in your books ?
Werle. Why do you ask ?
Gregers*
Oh, I have my reasons. Now tell me : when you interested yourself so warmly in your old friend's son — it was just before his marriage, was it not?
Werle.
Why, deuce take it — after all these years, how can I ?
Gregers. You wrote me a letter about that time — a business
4
36 THE WILD DUCk\ [Act I.
letter, of course ; and in a postscript you mentioned — quite briefly — that Hialmar Ekdal had married a Miss Hansen.
Werle. Yes, that was quite right. That was her name.
Gregeks.
But you did not mention that this Miss Hansen was Gina Hansen — our former housekeeper.
Werle.
{With a forced laugh of derision.'] No; to tell the truth, it didn't occur to me that you were so particu- larly interested in our former housekeeper.
Gregers.
No more I was. But \Lowers his voice] there were others in this house who were particularly interested in her.
Werle.
What do you mean by that? [Flaring up.] You are not alluding to me, I hope?
Gregers. [Softly but firmly -.~| Yes, I am alluding to you.
Werle.
And you dare ! You presume to ! How
can that ungrateful hound — that photographer fellow -^-how dare hie go making such insinuations !
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. yj
Gregers.
Hialmar has never breathed a word about this. I don't believe he has the faintest suspicion of such a thing.
Werle.
Then where have you got it from ? Who can have put such notions in your head ?
Gregers.
My poor unhappy mother told me; and that the very last time I saw her.
Werle.
Your mother ! I might have known as much ! You and she — you always held together. It was she who turned you against me, from the first.
Gregers.
No, it was all that she had to suffer and submit to, until she broke down and came to such a pitiful end.
Werle.
Oh, she had nothing to suffer or submit to; not more than most people, at all events. But there's no getting on with morbid, overstrained creatures — that I have learnt to my cost. — And you could go on nurs- ing such a suspicion — burrowing into all sorts of old rumours and slanders against your own father ! I must say, Gregers, I really think that at your age you might find something more useful to do.
3» THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
Gregers. Yes, it is high time,
Werle.
Then perhaps your mind would be easier than it seems to be now. What can be your object in remain- ing up at the works, year out and year in, drudging away like a common clerk, and not drawing a farthing more than the ordinary monthly wage? It is down- right folly.
Gregers. Ah, if I were only sure of that
Werle.
I understand you well enough. You want to be independent; you won't be beholden to me for anything. Well now, there happens to be an oppor- tunity for you to become independent, your own master in everything.
Gregers.
Indeed ? In what way ?
Werle.
When I wrote you insisting on your coming to town at once — hm
Gregers.
Yes, what is it you really want of me ? I have been waiting all day to know.
Act I] THE WILD DUCK. 39
WERLE.
I want to propose that you should enter the firm, as partner. .
Gregers. I ! Join your firm ? As partner ?
Werle.
Yes. It would not involve our being constantly together. You could take over the business here in town, and I should move up to the works.
Gregers.
You would?
Werle.
The fact is, I am not so fit for work as I once was. I am obliged to spare my eyes, Gregers; they have begun to trouble me.
Gregers. They have always been weak.'
Werle.
Not as they are now. And besides — circumstances might possibly make it desirable for me to live up there — for a time, at any rate.
Gregers. That is certainly quite a new idea to me.
40 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I
WERLE.
Listen, Gregers : there are many things that stand between us ; but we are father and son after all We ought surely to be able to come to some sort of under- standing with each other.
Gregers. Outwardly, you mean, of course ?
Werle.
Well, even that would be something. Think it over, Gregers. Don't you think it ought to be possible? Eh?
Gregers.
[Looking a f h : m coldly. ] There is something behind all this.
Werle. How so ?
Gregers.
You want to make use of me in some way.
Werle.
In such a close relationship as ours, the one can always be useful to the other.
Gregers. Yes, so people say.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK, 41
We RLE.
I want very much to have you at home with me for a time. I am a lonely man, Gregers ; I have always felt lonely, all my life through ; but most of all now that I am getting up in years. I feel the need of some one about me
Gregers.
You have Mrs. Sdrby.
Werle.
Yes, I have her ; and she has become, I may say, almost indispensable to me. She is lively and even- tempered ; she brightens up the house ; and that is a very great thing for me.
Gregers. Well then, you have everything just as you wish.
Werle.
Yes, but I am afraid it can't last. A woman so situated may easily find herself in a false position, in the eyes of the world. For that matter, it does a man no good, either.
Gregers.
Oh, when a man gives such dinners as you give, he can risk a great deal.
Werlf. Yes, but how about the woman, Gregers? I fear
42 THE WILD DUCK, [Act I.
she won't accept the situation much longer; and even if she did — even if, out of attachment to me, she were to take her chance of gossip and scandal and all
that ? Do you think, Gregers — you with your
strong sense of justice
Gregers.
[Interrupts him!\ Tell me in one word : are you thinking of marrying her?
Werle. Suppose I were thinking of it ? What then ?
Gregers. That's what I say : what then ?
Werle. Should you be inflexibly opposed to it ?
Gregers. Not at all. Not by any means.
Werlk.
I was not sure whether your devotion to your mother's memory
Gregers. I am not overstrained.
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 43
Werle.
Well, whatever you may or may not be, at all events you have lifted a great weight from my mind. I am extremely pleased that I can reckon on your concur- rence in this matter.
Gregers.
{Looking intently at him.] Now I see the use you want to put me to.
Werle. Use to put you to ? What an expression !
Gregers.
Oh, don't let us be nice in our choice of words — not when we are alone together, at any rate. [ With a short iaugh.] Well well ! So this is what made it absolutely essential that I should come to town in person. For the sake of Mrs. Sorby, we are to get up a pretence at family life in the house — a tableau of filial affection ! That will be something new indeed.
Werle. How dare you speak in that tone !
Gregers.
Was there ever any family life here? Never since I can remember. But now, forsooth, your plans demand something of the sort. No doubt it will have an excellent effect when it is reported that the son has
44 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
hastened home, on the wings of filial piety, to the grey- haired father's wedding-feast What will then remain of all the rumours as to the wrongs the poor dead mother had to submit to? Not a vestige. Her son annihilates them at one stroke.
Werle.
Gregers — I believe there is no one in the world you detest as you do me.
Gregers. [Softly.] I have seen you at too close quarters.
Werle.
You have seen me with your mother's eyes. [Lmvers his voice a little.] But you should remember that her eyes were — clouded now and then.
Gregers.
[Quivering.'] I see what you are hinting at. But who was to blame for mother's unfortunate weakness ?
Why you, and all those ! The last of them was
this woman that you palmed off upon Hialmar Ekdal, when you were — — Ugh !
Werle.
[Shrugs his shoulders.] Word for word as if it were your mother speaking !
Act I.] THE WILD DUCK. 45
Gregers.
[ Without heeding.~\ And there he is now, with his great, confiding, childlike mind, compassed about with all this treachery — living under the same roof with such a creature, and never dreaming that what he calls his home is built upon a lie ! [Comes a step nearer?^ When I look back upon your past, I seem to see a battle-field with shattered lives on every hand.
Werle.
I begin to think the chasm that divides us is too wide.
Gregers.
[Bowing, with set/command.] So I have observed ; and therefore I take my hat and go.
Werle. You are going ! Out of the house ?
Gregers.
Yes. For at last I see my mission in life.
Werle. What mission ?
Gregers.
You would only laugh if I told you.
Werle. A lonely man doesn't laugh so easily, Gregers.
46 THE WILD DUCK. [Act I.
GREGERS.
[Pointing towards the background.] Look, father, — the Chamberlains are playing blind-man's-buff with Mrs. Sorby.— Good-night and good-bye.
[He goes out by the back to the right. Sounds of laughter and merriment from the Company, who are now visible in the outer room.}
Werle.
[Muttering contemptuously after Gregers.] Ha ! Poor wretch — and he says he is not over- strained !
[Hialmar Ekdal's studio, a good-sized room, evidently in the top storey of the building. On the right, a sloping roof of large panes of glass, half covered by a blue curtain, in the right-hand corner, at the back, the entrance door; farther forward, on the same side, a door leading to the sitting-room. Two doors on the opposite side, and between them an iron stove. At the back, a wide double sliding-door. The studio is plainly but comfortably fitted up and furnished. Between the doors on the right, standing out a little from the wall, a sofa with a table and some chairs; on the table a lighted lamp with a shade; beside the stove an old arm-chair. Photographic instruments and apparatus of different kinds lying about the room. Against the back wall, to the left of the double door, stands a bookcase containing a few books, boxes, and bottles of chemicals, instruments, tools, and other objects. Photographs and small articles, such as cameFs-hair pencils, paper, and so forth, lie on the tabled
[Gina Ekdal sits on a chair by the table, sewing. Hedvig is sitting on the sofa, with her hands shading her eyes and her thumbs in her ears, read- ing a book.]
Gina.
[Glances once or twice at Hedvig, as if with secret anxiety; then says:] Hedvig !
a* 7Jf£ i«VJ-P J'ZYJr. [Act II.
Hettig.
GlXA.
\Rrusis «e.*w *Lmi/i .] Hedvig !
Hedvig. \ Takes iiarwi her cj«if niiiMb a/.] Ycs> mother?
GlNA.
Hedvig dear, you mustn't sit reading any longer now.
Hedvig.
Oh mother, mavn't I read a little more ? Just a little bit?
GlXA-
No no, you must put away your book now. Father doesn't like it; he never reads hisself in the evening.
Hedvig.
[Shuts the booh.] Xo, father doesn't care much about reading.
Gixa.
[Puts aside her sewing and takes up a lead pencil and a little account book from the tabled] Can you remember how much we paid for the butter to-day ?
Hedvig. It was one crown sixty-five.
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 49
GlNA.
Thai's right. [Puts it down.] It's terrible what a lot of butter we get through in this house. Then there was the smoked sausage, and the cheese— let me see — [ Writes] — and the ham — hm . [Adds up. ] Yes, that makes just
Hedvig.
And then the beer.
Gina.
Yes, to be sure. [ Writes.] How it do mount up ! But we can't manage with no less.
Hedvig.
And then you and I didn't need anything hot for dinner, as father was out.
• Gina.
No ; that was so much to the good. And then I took eight crowns fifty for the photographs.
Hedvig. Really ! So much as that ?
Gina.
Exactly eight crowns fifty.
[Silence. Gina takes up her sewing again. Hedvig takes paper and pencil and begins to draw, shading her eyes with her left hand. ]
5-j THE WILD 1KXK. [Act II.
Hedvig.
Isn't it jolly to think that father is at Mr. Werlc's big dinner-party ?
GlNA.
You know he's not really Mr. Werle's guest. It was the son invited him. [After a pause.] We have nothing to do with that Mr. Werle.
Hedvig.
I'm longing for father to come home. He promised to ask Mrs. Sorby for something nice for me.
Gina.
Yes, there's plenty of good things going in that house, I can tell you.
Hedvig.
[Goes on drawing.'] And I believe I'm a little hungry too.
[Old Ekdal, with the paper parcel under his arm and another parcel in his coat pocket, comes in by the entrance door.\
GlNA.
How late you are to-day, grandfather !
Ekdal.
They had locked the office door. Had to wait in Griberg's room. And then they let me through — hm.
Act II. ] THE WILD DUCK. 51
Hedvig. Did you get some more copying to do, grandfather ?
Ekdal. This whole packet. Just look.
GlNA.
That's capital.
Hedvig. And you have another parcel in your pocket.
Ekdal.
Eh? Oh never mind, that's nothing. [Puts his stick away in a corner.] This work will keep me going a long time, Gina. [Opens one of the sliding-doors in the back wall a little.] Hush ! [Peeps into the room for a moment, then pushes the door carefully to again.') Hee- hee ! They're fast asleep, all the lot of them. And she's gone into the basket herself. Hee hee !
Hedvig.
Are you sure she isn't cold in that basket, grand- father?
Ekdal.
Not a bit of it! Cold? With all that straw ? [Goes towards the farther door on the left.] There are matches in here, I suppose.
5
52 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Gina.
The matches is on the drawers. [Ekdal goes into his room.]
Hedvig. It's nice that grandfather has got all that copying.
Gina.
Yes, poor old father; it means a bit of pocket- money for him.
Hedvig.
And he won't be able to sit the whole forenoon down at that horrid Madam Eriksen's.
Gina.
No more he won't. [Short silence^
Hedvig. Do you suppose they are still at the dinner-table ?
Gina.
Goodness knows ; as like as not.
Hedvig.
Think of all the delicious things father is having to eat ! I'm certain he'll be in splendid spirits when he comes. Don't you think so, mother ?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 53
GlNA.
Yes ; and if only we could tell him that we'd got the room let
. Hedvig. But we don't need that this evening.
GlNA.
Oh, we'd be none the worse of it, I can tell you. It's no use to us as it is.
Hedvig.
I mean we don't need it this evening, for father will be in a good humour at any rate. It is best to keep the letting of the room for another time.
GlNA.
[Looks across at her.] You like having some good news to tell father when he comes home in the evening ?
Hedvig. Yes ; for then things are pleasanter somehow.
GlNA.
[Thinking to herself.] Yes, yes, there's something in that.
[Old Ekdal comes in again and is going out by the foremost door to the left.]
54 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
GlNA.
[Half turning in her chair.] Do you want some- thing out of the kitchen, grandfather ?
Ekdal. Yes, yes, I do. Don't you trouble. [Goes out.]
GlNA.
He's not poking away at the fire, is he ? [ Waits a moment.] Hedvig, go and see what he's about
[Ekdal comes in again with a small jug of steaming hot water.]
Hedvig. Have you been getting some hot water, grandfather ?
Ekdal.
Yes, hot water. Want it for something. Want to write, and the ink has got as thick as porridge — hm.
Gina.
But you'd best have your supper first, grandfather. It's laid in there.
Ekdal.
Can't be bothered with supper, Gina. Very busy, I tell you. No one's to come to my room. No one — hm.
[He goes into his room; Gina and Hedviq look at each other.]
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 55
GlNA.
[Softly.] Can you imagine where he's got money from?
Hedvig. From Gr&berg, perhaps.
Gina.
Not a bit of it. Gr&berg always sends the money to me.
Hedvig.
Then he must have got a bottle on credit some- where.
Gina.
Poor grandfather, who'd give him credit ?
[Hialmar Ekdal, in an overcoat and grey felt hat, comes in from the right.]
Gina.
[Throws down her sewing and rises.] Why, Ekdal, is that you already ?
Hedvig.
[At the same time, jumping up.] Fancy your coming so soon, father !
Hialmar.
[Taking off his hat.] Yes, most of the people were coming away.
56 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Hedvig. So early?
Hialmar.
Yes, it was a dinner-party, you know. [Is taking off his overcoat.]
GlNA.
Let me help you.
Hedvig. Me too.
[They draw off his coat; Gina hangs it up on the back wal/.]
Hedvig. Were there many people there, father ?
v y Hialmar.
y> Oh no, not many. We were about twelve or four-
teen at table.
v Gina.
And you had some talk with them all ?
Hialmar.
Oh yes, a little ; but Gregers took me up most of the time. y ^
yO Gina. Is Gregers as ugly as ever?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 57
HlALMAR.
Well, he's not very much to look at. — Hasn't the old man come home ?
Hedvig. Yes, grandfather is in his room, writing.
HlALMAR.
Did he say anything ?
Gin a. No, what should he say?
HlALMAR.
Didn't he say anything about ? I heard some- thing about his having been with Graberg. Til go in and see him for a moment.
Gina. No no, better not.
HlALMAR.
Why not ? Did he say he didn't want me to go in ?
Gina. J"
I don't think he wants to see nobody this J evening U-
Hedvig. /[ , .'■■"
[Making signs.] Hm — hm ! ' } *
58 THE WILD A(7CA\ [Act II.
GlNA.
[Not noticing.'] he has been in to fetch hot
water
Hialmar. Aha ! Then he's ?
Gin a. Yes, I suppose so.
HlALMAR.
Oh God ! my poor old white-haired father ! — Well well ; there let him sit and get all the enjoyment he can.
[Old Ekdal, in an indoor coat and with a lighted pipe, comet from his room.]
Ekdal. Got home ? Thought it was you I heard talking.
HlALMAR.
Yes, I have just come.
Ekdal. You didn't see me, did you ?
HlALMAR.
No ; but they told me you had passed through — so I thought I would 'follow you.
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 59
Ekdal.
Hm, good of you, Hialmar. — Who were they, all those fellows ?
Hialmar.
Oh, all sorts of people. There was Chamberlain /
Flor, and Chamberlain Balle, and Chamberlain K
Kaspersen, and Chamberlain — this, that, and the other — I don't know who all
Ekdal.
\Nodding^\ Hear that, Gina ! Chamberlains every one of them !
Gina.
Yes, I hear as they're terrible genteel in that house nowadays.
Hedvig.
Did the Chamberlains sing, father? Or did they read aloud ?
Hialmar.
No, th ey only t alked nonsense. They wanted me to recite something for them ; but I knew better than I
that
Ekdal. You weren't to be persuaded, eh ?
Gina. Oh, you might have done it.
60 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
No ; one mustn't be at everybody's beck and call. [ Walks about the room.] That's not m y way, at any rate.
Ekdal.
No no ; Hialmar's not to be had for the asking, he isn't.
HlALMAR.
I don't see why / should bother myself to entertain people on the rare occasions when I go into society. Let the others exert themselves. These fellows go from one great dinner-table to the next and gorge and guzzle day out and day in. It's for them to bestir themselves and do something in return for all the good feeding they get.
Gina. But you didn't say that ?
HlALMAR.
[Humming.] Ho-ho-ho ; faith, I gave them a
bit of my mind.
Ekdal. Not the Chamberlains !
HlALMAR.
Oh, why not ? [Lightly.] After that, we had a little discussion about Tokay.
Act IL] THE WILD DUCK. 61
EKDAL. Tokay ! There's a fine wine for you !
Hialmar. , »
[Comes to a standstill] It may be a fine wine. t/
But of course you know the vintages differ; it all I ■ depends on how much sunshine the grapes have had. ' '
GlNA.
Why, you know everything, Ekdal.
Ekdal. And did they dispute that ?
Hialmar.
They tried to ; but they were requested to observe that it was just the same with Chamberlains — that with them, too, different batches were of different qualities.
Gin a.
What things you do think of!
Ekdal. Hee-hee! So they got that in their pipes too?
Hialmar. Right in their teeth.
62 THE WILD DUCK. [Act \l
Ekdal.
Do you hear that, Gina? He said it right in the very teeth of all the Chamberlains.
Gina.
Fancy ! Right in their teeth !
Hialmar.
Yes, but I don't want it talked about. One doesn't speak of such things. The whole affair passed off quite amicably of course. They were nice, genial fellows ; I didn't want to wound them — not I !
Ekdal. Right in their teeth, though !
Hedvig.
[Caressingly."] How nice it is to see you in a dress- coat ! It suits you so well, father.
Hialmar.
Yes, don't you think so? And this one really sits to perfection. It fits almost as if it had been made for me ; — a little tight in the arm-holes perhaps ; — help me, Hedvig. [Takes off the coat.] I think I'll put on my jacket. Where is my jacket, Gini ?
Gina. Here it is. [Brings the jacket and helps him.]
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 63
HlALMAR.
That's it ! Don't forget to send the coat back \ to Molvik first thing to-morrow morning.
Gixa.
[Laying it away.] I'll be sure and see to it. ! ■
J Hialmar. p
[Stretching himself.] After all, there's a more v ,-•
homely feeling about this. A free-and-easy indoor ' ' ( ,
costume suits my whole personality better. Don't y 1 you think so, Hedvig ?
Hedvig. Yes, father.
Hialmar.
When I loosen my necktie into a pair of flowing ends — like this — eh ?
Hedvig.
Yes, that goes so well with your moustache and the sweep of your curls.
Hialmar.
I should not call them curls exactly; I should rather say locks.
Hedvig. Yes, they are too big for curls,
64 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
Locks describes them better.
Hedvig. [After a pause, twitching his jacket.] Father !
HlALMAR.
Well, what is it?
Hedvig. Oh, you know very well.
HlALMAR.
No, really I don't
Hedvig.
[Half laughing, half whimpering.'] Oh yes, father ; now don't tease me any longer !
HlALMAR.
Why, what d o you mean ?
Hedvig.
[Shaking him.] Oh what nonsense ; come, where are they, father ? All the good things you promised me, you know ?
HlALMAR.
Oh — if I haven't forgotten all about them !
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 65
Hedvig.
Now you're only teasing me, father ! Oh,j ttQO rad of you ! Where have you put them ! / tA
Hialmar. y \ J
No, I positively forgot to get anything. But wait a ? - ^ little! I have something else for you, Hedvig. [Goes -f } and searches in the pockets of the coat. ] ; *
V-'
Hedvig.
[Skipping and clapping her hands. .] Oh mother, mother !
Gina. There, you see ; if you only give him time
Hialmar. [ With a paper.} Look, here it is.
Hedvig. That ? Why, that's only a paper.
Hialmar.
That is the bill of fare, my dear ; the whole bill of fare. Here you see: "Menu" — that means bill of fare.
Hedvig. Haven't you anything else ?
66 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
I forgot the other things, I tell you. But you may take my word for it, these dainties are very unsatisfying. Sit down at the table and read the bill of fare, and then I'll describe to you how the dishes taste. Here you are, Hedvig.
Hedvig.
[Gulping down her fears.] Thank you.
[She seats hfrse/f, but does not read; Gina makes signs to her; Hialmar notices it.]
HlALMAR.
([Pacing up and down the room.] Its monstrous what absurd things the father of a family is expected to think of; and if he forgets the smallest trifle, he is treated to sour faces at once. Well well, one gets used to that too. [Stops near the stove % by the old man's chair.] Have you peeped in there this evening, father?
Ekdal. Yes, to be sure I have. She's gone into the basket.
HlALMAR.
Ah, she has gone into the basket. Then she's beginning to get used to it.
Ekdal.
Yes; just as I prophesied. But you know there are still a few little things *
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 67
HlALMAR.
A few improvements, yes.
Ekdal. They've got to be made, you know.
HlALMAR.
Yes. Let us have a talk about the improvements, father. Come, let us sit on the so r a.
Ekdal.
All right. Hm — think I'll just fill my pipe first. Must clean it out, too. Hm.
\He goes into his room.]
GlNA.
[Smiting to Hialmar.] His pipe 1
HlALMAR.
Oh yes yes, Gina; let him alone — the poor ship* wrecked old man. — Yes, these improvements — we had better get them out of hand to-morrow.
Gina. You'll hardly have time to-morrow, Ekdal.
Hedvig. [7nie> posing. \ Oh yes he will, mother !
68 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
GlXA.
for remember them prints that has te be re- touched ; they've sent for them time after time.
Hialmar.
There now ! those prints again ! I shall get them finished all right. Have any new orders come in ?
GlNA.
No, worse luck ; to-morrow I have nothing but those two sittings, you know.
Hialmar.
Nothing else ? Oh no, if people won't set about things with a will
GlNA.
But what more can I do ? Don't I advertise in the papers as much as we can afford ?
Hialmar.
Yes, the papers, the papers; you see how much good they do. And I suppose no one has been to look at the room either ?
GlNA.
No, not yet.
Hialmar.
That was only to be expected. If people won't
keep their eyes open . Nothing can be done
without a real effort, Gina !
Act II. ] THE WILD DUCK. 69
Hedvig.
[Going towards Aim.] Shall I fetch you the flute, father?
HlALMAR.
^ .' No : no flute for m e; I want no pleasures in this world. . [Pacing about. \ Ves, indeed I will work "tcP morrow ; you shall see if I don't. You may be sure I shall work as long as my strength holds out.
Gina.
But my dear good Ekdal, I didn't mean it in that way.
Hedvig. Father, mayn't I bring in a bottle of beer ?
Hialmar. No, certainly not. I require nothing, nothing-
[Comes to a stands till.] Beer ? Was. it bqer you were talking about?
. Hedvig. :, .. [Cheerfully.] . Yes, father; beautiful fresh beer.
Hialmar.
Well — since you insist upon it, you may bring in a bottle.
. Gina.
Yes, do ; and we'll be nice and cosy.
[Hedvig runs towards the kitchen door.]
70 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
[By the stave, stops her, looks at her, puts his arm round her neck, and presses ker to h/m.] Hedvig, Hedvig!
Hedvig. [ With tears of joy.] My dear, kind father !
HlALMAR.
No, don't call me that. Here have I been feasting at the rich man's table, — battening at the groaning board ! And I couldn't even !
Gina.
[Sitting at the table. \ Oh nonsense, nonsense, Ekdal.
HlALMAR.
It's not nonsense! And yet you mustn't be too hard upon me. You know that I love you for all that.
Hedvig.
[ Throwing her arms round him.] And we love you, oh so dearly, father !
HlALMAR.
And if I am unreasonable once in a while, — why then — you must remember that I am a man beset by a host of cares. There there ! [Drys his eyes.] No beer at such a moment as this. Give me the flute.
[Hedvig runs to the bookcase and fetches it.]
^
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 71
HlALMAR.
Thanks ! That's right. With my flute in my hand . \ K
and you two at my side — ah !
[Hedvig seats herself at the table near Gina ; Hialmar paces backwards and forwards, pipes up vigorously, and plays a Bohemian peasant dance, but in a slow plaintive tempo, and with sentimental expression.']
Hialmar.
[Breaking off the melody, holds out his left hand to Gina, and says with emotion/] Our roof may be poor and humble, Gina ; but it is home. And with all my / heart I say : here dwells my happiness.
[He begins to play again; almost immediately after, a knocking is heard at the entrance door.]
Gina.
[Rising.] Hush, Ekdal, — I think there's some one at the door.
Hialmar.
[Laying the flute on the bookcase/] There ! Again ! [Gina goes and opens the door.]
Gregers Werle. [In the passage.] Excuse me
Gina.
[Starting back slightly.] Oh !
y
72 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Gregers. -does not Mr. Ekdal, the photographer, live
here?
GlNA.
Yes, he does.
Hialmar.
{Going towards the door.] Gregers! You here after all ? Well, come in then.
Gregers.
{Coming in.] I told you I would come and look you up.
Hialmar.
But this evening- ? Have you left the party?
Gregers.
I have left both the party and my. father's house. — Good evening, Mrs. Ekdal. I don't know whether you recognise me?
Gina.
Oh yes; it's not difficult to know young Mr. Werle again.
Gregers.
k a I No, I am like my mother; and no doubt you ' -X/ remember her.
Hialmar. Left your father's house, did you say?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK, 73
Gregers. Yes, I have gone to a hote 1 .
Hialmar.
Indeed. Well, since you're here, take off your coat and sit down.
Gregers.
Thanks. ^
[He takes off his overcoat He is now dressed in a plain grey suit of a countrified cut.]
Hialmar. Here, on the sofa. Make yourself comfortable.
[Gregers seats himself on the sofa; Hialmar takes a chair at the table.]
Gregers.
[Looking around him.] So these are your quarters, Hialmar — this is your home.
Hialmar. This is the studio, as you see
Gina.
But it's the largest of our rooms, so we generally sit here.
Hialmar.
We used to live in a better place ; but tlrs flat has one great advantage : there are such capital outer rooms
74 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Gina.
And we hive a room on the other side of the passage, that we can let.
Gregers. [To Hialmar.] Ah — so you have lodgers too?
HlALMAR.
No, not yet. They're not so easy to find, you see ; you have to keep your eyes open. [To Hedvig.] What about that beer, eh ?
[Hedvig nods and goes out into the kitchen?^
6&EGfiRS. ^-
So that is your daughter ?
Hialmar. Yes, that is Hedvig.
Gregers. And she is your only child ?
Hialmar.
: Yes, the only one. She is the joy of our lives, and — [lotvering his voice] — at the same time our deepest sorrow, Gregers.
Gregers.
What do you mean ?
Hialmar. She is in serious danger of losing her eyesight.
Act It.] THE WILD DUCK. 75
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. [Sighsi] 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 care-
76 THE WILD DUCK. . [Act II.
less and chirping like a little bird, she flutters onward into a life of endless night. 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 folloiving her with his eyes.] She seems quite strong and healthy otherwise.
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 77
GlNA.
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.
78 THE WILD DUCK, [Act II.
HlALMAR.
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 — hm—what was it again ?
Hialmar.
[Going t<nvards him.] Father, we have a visitor here — Gregers Werle. — I don't know if you remember him.
,: Ekdal.
Hialmar. Nothing; it's me he has come to see.
Ekdal. Oh ! Then there's nothing wrong ?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 79
HlALMAR.
No, no, of course not
Ekdal.
\Sivinging his arms.] 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 tabled]
80 THE WILD DUCK. [Act U.
HlALMAR.
Sit down, father, and have a glass of beer. Help yourself, Gregers.
[Ekdal mutters and stumbles over to 4he 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 % saving; 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. Fve 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 theft 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?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. : 81
Gregers.
Not so fine as in your time. They have been thinned a good deal.
Ekdal.
Thinned? [Afore softly, and as if afraid.} It's f dangerous work that. Bad things come of it. Thej |f ; tl woods revenge themselves. i H
Hialmar. [Filling up his glass.} Come — a liltle 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 ail so bad. ,{ x '
i * : l>
Gregers. j
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.
82 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
{Hastily and a little embarrassed.] Oh no no, father; not this evening.
Grbgers. What does he want to show me ?
HlALMAR.
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 / nothing on earth to !
Gregerp.
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 !
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 83
HlALMAR.
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. L~t me pass! Come and help me, Hialmar!
Hedvig.
Oh yes, do, father!
Hialmar. [Rising.'] Very well then.
Gregers. [To Gin a.] What is it?
GlNA.
Oh, nothing so very wonderful, after all.
[Ekdal and Hialmar have gone to the back wall and are each pushing lack a side of the sliding door; Hedvig helps the old man; Gregers remains standing by the sofa; Gin a sits still and sews. Through the open doorway a large, deep irregular garret is seen with old nooks and corners; a couple of stove-pipes running through it, from rooms below. Thete are skylights through which clear moonlight shines in on some parts of the great room; others lie in deep shadoiv.]
7
84 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Ekdal. [To Gregers.] You may come close up if you like.
Gregers. [Going over to them.} Why, what is it ?
Ekdal. Look for yourself. Hm.
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.
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 85
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! Hm! 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?
» THE WiU> DUCK. [Act II.
Gregers* Yes. And I can see a fowl lying in the basket.
Ekdal. Hm- 4 -j fowl"
Gregers. Isn't it a duck ?
Ekdal. [Hurt.] Why, of coarse it's a duck.
HlALMAR.
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 ; ifs not a Muscovy duck ; for it's a wild duck !
Gregers.
Is it really ? A wild duck ?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 87
Ekdal.
Yes, that's what it is. That "fowl" as you call it — is the wild duck. It's our wild duck, sir.
Hedvig. M y 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.
Hm, 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.
88 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Gregers. How did you manage to catch it, Lieutenant Ekdal ?
Ekdal.
/ 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. Hm.
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 him- self
Ekdal.
It's H&kon Werle we have to thank for her, all the same, Gina. [To Gregers.] He was shooting from a boat, you see, and he brought her down. But your father's sight is not very good now. Hm; she was only wounded:
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 89
Gregers.
Ah! She got a couple of slugs in her body, I suppose.
HlALMAR.
Yes, two or three.
Hedvig.
She was hit under the wing, so that she couldn't fly.
Gregers.
And I suppose she dived to the bottom, eh ?
Ekdal.
[Sfeepify, in a thick voice.] Of course. Always do 1
that, wild ducks do. They shoot to the bottom as J
deep as they can get, sir — and bite themselves fast in [
the tangle and seaweed — and all the devil's own mess /
that grows down there. And they never come up I
again. *
Gregers.
But your wild duck came up again, Lieutenant Ekdal.
Ekdal.
He had such an amazingly clever dog, your father ' bad. And that dog — he dived in after the duck and ; fetched her up again.
Gregers.
[ Who has turned to Hialmar.] And then she was sent to you here ?
90 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
HlALMAR.
Not at once; at first your father took her home. But she wouldn't thrive there ; so Pettersen was told to put an end to her
Ekdal. [Half asleep. ] Hm — yes — Pettersen — that ass
> i \ HlALMAR.
j^y V [Speaking more softly.] That was how we got her, <j t you see ; for father knows Pettersen a little ; and when A he heard about the wild duck he got him to hand her
over to us.
y "
^ Gregers.
And now she thrives as well as possible in the garret there ?
. HlALMAR.
Yes, wonderfully well. She has got fat You see, she has lived in there so long now that she has forgotten her natural wild life ; and it all depends on that.
Gregers.
You are right there, Hiaimar. Be sure you never
» let her get a glimpse of the sky and the sea .
j But I mustn't stay any longer ; I think your father is
HlALMAR.
Oh, as for that
\
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 91
Gregers.
But, by-the-bye — you said you had a room to let — a spare room ?
Hialmar. Yes ; what then ? Do you know of anybody ?
Gregers. Can / have that room ?
Hialmar. You?
GlNA.
Oh no, Mr. Werle, y o u
Gregers.
May I have the room ? If so, I'll take possession first thing to-morrow morning.
Hialmar. Yes, with the greatest pleasure
Gina.
But, Mr. Werle, I'm sure it's not at all the sort of room for you.
Hialmar. Why, Gina ! how can you say that ?
92 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
GlNA.
Why, because the room's neither large enough nor light enough, and
Gregers. That really doesn't matter, Mrs. Ekdal.
Hialmar.
I call it quite a nice room, and not at all badly furnished either.
Gina. But remember the pair of them underneath.
Gregers. What pair ?
Gina. Well, there's one as has been a tutor
Hialmar. That's Molvik— Mr. Molvik, B.A.
Gina. And then there's a doctor, by the name of Relling.
Gregers.
Relling? I know him a little; he practised for a time up in Hoidal.
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 93
GlNA.
They're a regular rackety pair, they are. As often as not, they're out on the loose in the evenings ; and then they come home at all hours, and they're not always just
v Gregers.
^ One soon gets used to that sort of thing. I dare- say I shall be like the wild duck
Gina.
Hm; I think you ought to sleep upon it first, anyway.
Gregers.
You seem very unwilling to have me in the house, Mrs, Ekdal.
Gina.
Oh no ! what makes you think that?
Hialmar.
WelJ, you really behave strangely about it, Gina. [To Gregers.] Then I suppose you intend to remain in the town for the present?
Gregers.
[Putting on his overcoat^ Yes, now I intend to remain here.
Hialmar.
And yet not at your father's? What do you propose to do, then ?
at 7 HE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Gregers.
Ah, if I only knew that, Hialmar, I shouldn't be so badly off! But when one has the misfortune to be called Gregers— ! " Gregers "—and then "Werle" after it : did you ever hear anything so hideous ?
Hialmar. Oh, I don't think so at all.
Gregers.
Ugh ! Bah ! I feel I should like to spit upon the fellow that answers to such a name. But when a man is once for all doomed to be Gregers — Werle in this world, as I am
Hialmar.
[Laughs.] Ha ha ! If you weren't Gregers Werle, what would you like to be ?
Gregers.
If I could choose, I should like best to be a clever dog.
Gina.
A dog !
Hedvig.
"^S? [Involuntarily.] Oh no !
Gregers.
Yes, an amazingly clever dog ; one that goes to the : bottom after wild ducks when they dive and bite
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 95
themselves fast in tangle and sea-weed, down among the ooze.
Hialmar.
Upon my word now, Gregers — I don't in the least know what you're driving at.
Gregers.
Oh well, you might not be much the wiser if you did. It's understood, then, that I move in early to- morrow morning. [To Gin a.] I won't give you any trouble; I do everything for myself. [To Hialmar.] We can talk about the rest to-morrow. — Good-night, Mrs. Ekdal. [Nods to Hedvig.] Good-night.
Gina. Good-night, Mr. Werle.
Hedvig.
Good-night.
Hialmar.
[ Who has lighted a candle.] Wait a moment ; I must show you a light ; the stairs are sure to be dark. [Gregers and Hialmar go out by the passage door.]
Gina.
[Looking straight before her, with her sewing in her /op.] Wasn't that queer-like talk about wanting to be a dog?
96 THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
Hedvig.
» Do you know, mother — I believe he meant some- thing quite different by that
Gina. Why, what should he mean?
Hedvig.
-v j , Oh, I don't know ; but it seemed to me he meant "s/ something different from what he said — all the time.
Gina. Do you think so ? Yes, it was sort of queer.
Hialmar.
[Comes back.] The lamp was still burning, [ruts out the candle and sets it down.] Ah, now one can get a mouthful of food at last. [Begins to eat the bread and butter.] Well, you see, Gina — if only you keep your eyejs open — -q
v r Gina.
How, keep your eyes open ?
Hialmar.
Why, haven't we at last had the luck to get the room let? And just think — to a person like Gregers — a good old friend.
Gina.
Well, I don't know what to say about it.
Act IF.] THE WILD DUCK. 97
Hedvig. Oh mother, you'll see; it'll be such fun !
Hialmar.
You're very strange. You were so bent upon getting the room let before ; and now you don't like it.
Gina.
Yes I do, Ekdal; if it had only been to some one else— — . But what do you suppose Mr. Werle will say?
Hialmar.
Old Werle ? It doesn't concern him.
Gina.
But surely you can see that there's something amiss between them again, or the young man wouldn't be leaving home. You know very well those two can't get on with each other.
Hialmar. Very likely not, but
Gina.
And now Mr. Werle may fancy it's you that have egged him on
Hialmar.
&X him fancy so, then ! Mr. Werle has done a great deal for me ; far be it from me to deny it. But
I>
9S THE WILD DUCK. [Act II.
that doesn't make me everlastingly dependent upon him.
GiNA.
But, my dear Ekdal, maybe grandfather '11 suffer for it. He may lose the little bit of work he gets from Graberg.
Hialmar.
I could almost say : so much the better ! Is it not humiliating for a man like me to see his grey-haired father treated as a pariah? -But now I believe the fulness of time is at hand. [ Takes a fresh piece of breed and butter.} As sure as I have a mission in life, I mean to fulfil it now !
Hedvig.
Oh yes, father, do !
GiNA.
. Sh ! Don't wake him !
Hialmar.
{More softly, ,] I will fulfil it, I say. The day
shall come when And that is why I say it's a
good thing we have let the room ; for that makes me more independent. The man who has a mission in life must be independent. [By the arm-chair^ with emotion.'] Poor old white-haired father! Rely on your Hialmar. He has broad shoulders — strong shoulders, at any rate. You shall yet wake up
some fine day and [To Gin a.] Do you not
believe it?
Act II.] THE WILD DUCK. 99
GlNA.
[Rising.] Yes, of coufse I do ; but in the meantime suppose we see about getting him to bed.
Hialmar.
Yes, come. %
[They take hold of the old man carefully '.]
[ Hialmar Ekdal's studio. It is morning ; the daylight shines through the large window in the slanting roof; the curtain is drawn back.] [Hialmar is sitting at the table % busy retouching a photograph; several others lie before him. Pre- sently Gina, wearing her hat and cloak, enters by , the passage door; she has a covered basket on her f C : arm.]
L v Hialmar.
Back already, Gina ?
Gina.
Oh yes, one can't let the grass grow under one's feet.
[Sets her basket on a chair, and takes off her things.]
Hialmar.
Did you look in at Gregers* room ?
Gina.
Yes, that I did. It's a rare sight, I can tell you ; he's made a pretty mess to start off with,
Hialmar. How so ?
Act 111.] THE WILD DUCK. 101
GlNA.
He was determined to do everything for himself, he said ; so he sets to work to light the stove, and what must he do but screw down the damper till the whole room is full of smoke. Ugh! There was a smell fit to
Hialmar.
Well, really!
GlNA.
But that's not the worst of it; for then he thinks he'll put out the fire, and goes and empties his ewer into the stove, and so makes the whole floor one filthy puddle.
Hialmar. How annoying !
GlNA.
I've got the porter's wife to clear up after him, pig that he is ! But the room won't be fit to live in till the afternoon.
Hialmar.
What's he doing with himself in the meantime ?
Gina. He said he was going out for a little while.
Hialmar.
I looked in upon him too, for a moment — after you had gone.
102 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
GlNA.
So I heard. You've asked him to lunch.
Hialmar.
Just to a little bit of early lunch, you know. It's his first day — we can hardly do less. You've got some- thing in the house, I suppose ?
Gina. I shall have to find something or other.
Hialmar.
And don't cut it too fine, for I fancy Relling and Molvik are coming up too. I just happened to meet Relling on the stairs, you see ; so I had to-
Gina. Oh, are we to have those two as well?
\ Hialmar.
Good Lord — a couple more or less can't make any \ difference.
Old Ekdal.
[Opens his door and looks in.] I say, Hialmar-- — [Sees Gina.] Oh !
Gina.
Do you want anything, grandfather ?
k
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 103
Ekdal.
Oh no, it doesn't matter. Hra ! [Retires again.]
. . GlNA.
[Takes up the basket!] Be sure you see that he doesn't go out.
Hialmar.
All right, all right. — And, Gina, a little herring- salad wouldn't be a bad idea; Relling and Molvik were out on the loose again last night.
Gina.
If only they don't come before I'm ready for
them
Hialmar.
No, of course they won't ; take your own time.
Gina. Very well; and meanwhile you can be working a bit ?
Hialmar.
Well, lam working ! I am working as hard as I can!
Gina. Then you'll have that job off your hands, you see.
[She goes out to the kitchen with her basket.] Hialmar sits for a time pencilling away at the photography in an indolent and listless manner.]
104 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Ekdal.
[Peeps in, looks round the studio, and says softly :] Are you busy ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, I'm toiling at these wretched pictures
Ekdal. Well well, never mind, — since you're so busy — hm ! [He goes out again; the door stands open\
HlALMAR.
[Continues for some time in silence; then he lays down his brush and goes over to the door.] Are you busy, father?
Ekdal.
[In a grumbling tone, within.'] If you're busy, I'm busy too. Hm !
HlALMAR.
Oh, very well, then.
[Goes to his work again.]
Ekdal.
[Presently, coming to the door again.] Hm ; I say, Hialmar, I'm not so very busy, you know.
HlALMAR.
I thought you were writing.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK, 105
Ekdal.
Oh, devil take it ! can't Gr&berg wait a day or two ? After all, it's not a matter of life and death.
t
Hialmar. . ; /
No ; and you're not his slave either, frs If
Ekdal. And about that other business in there
Hialmar.
Just what I was thinking of. Do you want to go in. Shall I open the door for you ?
Ekdal. Well, it wouldn't be a bad notion.
Hialmar. [Rises.'] Then we'd have that off our hands.
Ekdal.
Ye% exactly. It's got to be ready first thing to- morrow. It i s to-morrow, isn't it ? Hm ?
Hialmar.
Yes, of course it's to-morrow.
[Hialmar and Ekdal push aside each his ha// of the sliding door. The morning sun
106 THE WILD DUCK, fAcT III.
is shining in through the skylights: some doves are flying about; others sit cooing, upon the perches; the hens are heard ducking now and then, further back in the
garret.']
HlALMAR.
There ; now you can get to work, father.
Ekdal. [Goes in.] Aren't you coming too?
HlALMAR.
Well really, do you know ; I almost think?- —
[Sees Gina at the kitchen door.] I ? No ; I haven't time; I must work. — But now for our new contriv- ance
[He pulls a cord; a curtain slips down inside, the lower part consisting of a piece of old sailcloth, the upper part of a stretched fishing net. The floor of the garret is thus no longer visible.]
HlALMAR.
[Goes to the table.] So ! Now, perhaps, I can sit in peace for a little while.
Gina. Is he rampaging in there again ?
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK, 107
HlALMAR.
Would you rather have had him slip down to Madam Eriksen's? [Seats himself.] Do you want anything? You know you said
Gina.
I only wanted to ask if you think we can lay the table for lunch here ?
HlALMAR.
Yes ; we have no early appointment, I suppose ?
Gina.
No, I expect no one to-day except those two sweet- hearts that are to be taken together.
HlALMAR.
Why the deuce couldn't they be taken together another day !
Gina.
Don't you know, I told them to come in the after- noon, when you are having your nap.
HlALMAR.
Oh, that's capital. Very well, let us have lunch here thea
Gina-
All right; but there's no hurry about laying the cloth ; you can have the table for a good while yet.
io8 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
HlALMAR.
Do you think I am not sticking at my work ? I'm at it as hard as I can !
Gina.
Then you'll be free later on, you know.
[Goes out into the kitchen again. Short pause.]
Ekdal.
[In the garret doorway, behind the net.] Hialmar !
HlALMAR.
Well?
Ekdal.
Afraid we shall have to move the water-trough, after all.
Hialmar.
What else have I been saying all along ?
Ekdal. Hm — hm — hm.
[Goes away from the door again.] Hialmar goes on working a little; glances towards the garret and half rises. Hedvig comes in from the kitchen!]
Hialmar. [Sits down again hurriedly.] What do you want ?
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 109
Hedvig. I only wanted to come in beside you, father.
Hialmar.
[After a paused] What makes you go prying around X like that ? Perhaps you are told off to watch me ?
Hedvig. No, no.
Hialmar. What is your mother doing out there ?
Hedvig.
Oh, mother's in the middle of making the herring- / salad. [Goes to the table.'] Isn't there any little thing I could help you with, father?
Hialmar.
Oh no. It is right that I should bear the whole \ N burden — so long as my strength holds out. — Set your \
Hedvig. *
Oh no, father ! You mustn't talk in that horrid way. >^
[She wanders about a littfe, stops by the door- way and looks into the garret.]
Hialmar. Tell me, what is he doing ?
no THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Hedvig. I think he's making a new path to the water-trough.
Hialmar.
He can never manage that by himself! And here am I doomed to sit !
Hedvig.
[Goes to Aim.] Let me take the brush, father; I can do it, quite well
Hialmar. Oh nonsense ; you will only hurt your eyes.
Hedvig. Not a bit. Give me the brush.
Hialmar.
[Rising.] Well, it won't take more than a minute or two.
Hedvig.
Pooh, what harm can it do then ? [Takes the brush.] There ! [Seats herself.] I can begin upon this one.
Hialmar.
V But mind you don't hurt your eyes ! Do you hear ? /won't be answerable ; you do it on your own respon- sibility — understand that.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. in
Hedvig. [Retouching.] Yes yes, I understand.
HlALMAR.
You are quite clever at it, Hedvig. Only a minute or two, you know.
[He slips through by the edge of the curtain into the garret. Hedvig sits at her work. Hialmar and Ekdal are heard disputing inside.]
Hialmar.
[Appears behind the net.] I say, Hedvig — give me those pincers that are lying on the shelf. And the chisel. [Turns away inside.] Now you shall see, father. Just let me show you first what I mean !
[Hedvig has fetched the required tools from the shelf and hands them to him through the net.]
Hialmar.
Ah, thanks. I didn't come a moment too soon.
[Goes bach from the curtain again; they are heard carpentering and talking inside. Hedvig stands looking in at them. A moment later there is a knock at the passage door; she does not notice it.]
Gregers Werle.
[Bareheaded, in indoor dress, enters and stops near the door.] Hm !
1 12 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Hedvig.
{Turns and goes towards Aim.] Good morning. Please come in.
Gregers.
Thank you. [Looking towards the garret.] You seem to have workpeople in the house.
Hedvig.
No, it is only father and grandfather. I'll tell them you are here.
Gregers. No no, don't do that ; I would rather wait a little. [Stats himself on the sofa.]
Hedvig.
It looks so untidy here [Begins to clear away
the photographs.]
Gregers.
Oh, don't take them away. Are those prints that have to be finished off?
Hedvig. Yes, they are a few I was helping father with.
Gregers. Please don't let me disturb you.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 113
HEDVIG. Oh no.
[She gathers the things to her and sits down to work; Gregers looks at her, meanwhile, in silence.']
Gregers. Ypid the wild duck sleep well last night ?
Hedvig. Yes, I think so, thanks.
Gregers.
[Turning towards the garret.'] It looks quite different by day from what it did last night in the moonlight
Hedvig.
Yes, it changes ever so much. It looks different in the morning and in the afternoon ; and it's different on rainy days from what it is in fine weather.
Gregers. Have you noticed that ?
Hedvig. Yes, how could I help it ?
Gregers.
Are you, too, fond of being in there with the wild duck ?
V -X^> ^ 1 i "4 THE WILD DUCK. [Act 111.
^ ^ »J^ Hedvig.
t S^^t* ^ Yes, when * can m anage it —
«=^V Gregers.
^ ^ *& But I suppose you haven't much spare time; you go (^ / ^^Vto school, no doubt
w >- ^ | Hedvig.
^ ^ S*^ i No, not now ; father is afraid of my hurting my eyes.
^ y^fe ^ Gregers.
<s^ . Oh ; then he reads with you himself?
^ . J ^ Hedvig.
— o _ ^ Gregers.
*>»
~* \ "^ " Then is there nobody else to give you a little help ?
J «^> Hedvig.
** % Yes, there is Mr. Molvik; but he is not always ^ ^ exactly — quite
J Gregers.
^ ^ Sober?
Hedvig.
V Yes, I suppose that's it !
t
^ ^\
Act III,] THE WILD DUCK. 115
Gregers.
Why, then you must have any amount of time on \ your hands. And in there I suppose it is a sort of ! world by itself?
Hedvig.
Oh yes, quite. And there are such lots of wonderful things.
Gregers. Indeed?
Hedvig.
Yes, there are big cupboards full of books ; and a great many of the books have pictures in them.
Gregers.
Aha!
v And there's an old bureau with drawers and flaps, and a big clock with figui the clock isn't going now.
5f
*V and a big clock with figures that go out and in. But
Gregers.
■ So time has come to a standstill in there — in the
V w ild duck' s d omain . O
"""^ ^Hedvig.
Yes. And then there's an old paint-box and things of that sort ; and all the books.
9
N
116 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Gregers. An J you read the books, I suppose?
Hedvig.
Oh yes, when I get the chance. Most of them are English though, and I don't understand English. But then I look at the pictures. — There is one great big book called " Harrison's History of London." l It
I must be a hundred years old; and there are such heaps of pictures in it. At the beginning there is Death with an hour glass, and a woman. I think that is horrid. But then there are all the other pictures of churches, and castles, and streets, and great ships sail- ing on the sea.
Gregers.
But tell me, where did all those wonderful things come from ?
Hedvig.
Oh, an old sea captain once lived here, and he brought them home with him. They used to call him '• The Flying Dutchman." That was curious, because he wasn't a Dutchman at all.
Gregers. Was he not ?
Hkdvig.
No. But at last he was drowned at sea; and so he left all those things behind him.
1 A New and Universal History of the Cities of London and Westminster, by Walter Harrison. London, 1775, folio.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 117
Gregers.
Tell me now — when you are sitting in there looking at the pictures, don't you wish you could travel and see the real world for yourself?
Hedvig.
Oh no ! I mean always to stay at home and help father and mother.
. Gregers.
To retouch photographs ?
Hedvig.
No, not only that. I should love above everything to learn to engrave pictures like those in the English books.
Gregers.
Hm. What does your father say to that ?
Hedvig.
I don't think father likes it ; father is strange about such things. Only think, he talks of my learning basket-making, and straw-plaiting ! But 1 don't think that would be much good.
Gregers. Oh no, I don't think so either.
Hedvig. But father was right in saying that if I had learnt
n8 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
basket-making I could have made the new basket for the wild duck.
*>< So you could; and it was you that ought to have ^ done it, wasn't it ?
^ Hedvig.
4
Of course it is.
Hedvig.
/* Yes, it belongs to m e. g ut I lend it to fa ther and ^ grandfather as often as they please.
Gregers. .^ Indeed ? What do they do with it ?
v ; - * Hedvig.
/
'' sd on.
\j - Oh, theyflook aftejJt^ndjbuild pjaces for it} and ' ^sd on. ^ -*-
/ y Gregers.
/ . ; 1 see ; for no doubt the wild duck is by far the most \ -* distinguished inhabitant of the garret ? ]|\
» * »
Hedvig.
Yes, indeed she is ; for she is a real wild fowl, you know. And then she is so much to be pitied; \ she has no one to care for, poor thing.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 119
Gregers. She has no family, as the rabbits have
Hedvig.
No. The hens too, many of them, were chickens
together; but she has been taken right away from
, all her friends. And then there is so much that is
T^ strange about the wild duck. Nobody knows^her. and
\ nobody knows where she camelrom either. ~1 . . y ,
Gregers. ^H /
And she has been down in the depths of the sea.
Hedvig. [ With a quick glance at him , regresses a smile and asks:] Why do you say " theIenV of the sea"?
Gregers. What else should I say ?
Hedvig. You could say " the^ottoij* of the sea." 1
Gregers. Oh, mayn't I just as well say the depths of the sea ?
1 Gregers here uses the old-fashioned expression "havsens bund," while Hedvig would have him use the more common- place "havets bund" or "havbunden."
p
iio THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Hedvig.
Yes; but it sounds so strange to me when other ^ people speak of the depths of the sea.
x ' Gregers.
- Why so ? Tell me why ?
i
C-> •> Hedvig.
^ No, I won't ; it's so stupid.
M^ ~~\ Gregers.
Oh no, I am sure it's not Do tell me why you '"^hjJ smiled.
W
Well, this is the reason : whenever I come to realise rSs, h^, . suddenly — in a flash — what is in there, it always seems ^" . \ to me that the whole room and everything in it should
^Os£e called "the depths of the sea."— But that is so
/ stupid.
I
Gregers.
You mustn't say that
Hedvig. ; Oh yes, for you know it is only a garret.
Gregers. [Looks fixedly at her.] Are you so sure of that?
J?
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 121
Hedvig. That it's a garret?
Gregers.
Are you quite certain of it ?
[Hedvig is silent \ and looks at him open- mouthed. Gina comes in from the kitchen with the table things.}
Gregers. [Rising.] I have come in upon you too early.
Gina.
Oh, you must be somewhere; and we're nearly ready now, any way. Clear the table, Hedvig.
[Hedvig clears away her things; she and Gina lay the cloth during what follows. Gregers seats himself in the arm-chair, and turns over an album.}
Gregers. I hear you can retouch, Mrs. Ekdal.
Gina. [ With a side glance.] Yes, I can.
Gregers. That was exceedingly lucky.
122 THE WILD DUCK, [Act III.
GlNA.
How lucky?
Gregers. Since Ekdal took to photography, I mean.
Hedvig. Mother can take photographs too.
Gina. Oh, yes ; I was bound to learn that.
Gregers.
So it is really you that carry on the business, I suppose ?
Gina. Yes, when Ekdal hasn't time himself
Gregers.
He is a great deal taken up with his old father, I daresay.
Gina.
Yes ; and then you can't expect a man like Ekdal to do nothing but take car-de-visits of Dick, Tom and Harry.
Gregers.
I quite agree with you ; but having once gone in for the thing
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK, 123
GlNA.
You can surely understand, Mr. Werle, that Ekdal's not like one of your common photographers.
Gregers.
Of course not ; but still
[A shot is fired within tJie gat ret.]
Gregers. [Starting up. ] What's that ?
GlNA.
Ugh ! now they're firing again !
Gregers. Have they firearms in there ?
Hedvig. They are out shooting.
Gregers.
What! [At the door of the garret.] Are you shooting, Hialmar?
Hialmar.
[Inside the net.] Are you there ? I didn't know ;
I was so taken up [To Hedvig.] Why did you
not let us know ?
[Comes into the studio.]
i
124 THE WILD DUCK. [Act. III.
GREGERS.
Do you go shooting in the garret ?
Hialmar.
{Showing a double-barrelled pistol.'] Oh, only with this thing.
GlNA.
Yes, you and grandfather will do yourselves a mis- chief some day with that there pjgslfiL —
Hialmar.
[ With irritation?] I believe I have told you that this kind of firearm is called a pistol.
Gina.
Oh, that doesn't make it much better, that I can see.
Gregers. So you have become a sportsman too, Hialmar ?
Hialmar.
Only a little rabbit-shooting now and then. Mostly to please father, you understand.
Gina.
(Men are strangebeings ; they must always have something to(perye7F^J}emselves with.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 125
HlALMAR.
/ [Snappishly, j Just so ; we must always have some- thing to 4G2ex5 ourselves with.
Gina. Yes, that's just what I say.
HlALMAR.
Hm. [To Gregers.] You see the garret is fortu- nately so situated that no one can hear us shooting. ^ J
[Lays the pistol on the top shelf of the bookcase.] Don't >*- " (./' touch the pistol, Hedvig ! One of the barrels is / * , ^ loaded; remember that. ^
Gregers.
[Looking through the net.] You have a fowling-piece too, I see.
HlALMAR. .
That is father's old gun. It's of no use now; somejfc 7 thing has gone wrong with the lock. But it's fun to have it all the same; for we can take it to pieces now and then, and clean and grease it, and screw it to- gether again. — Of course, it's mostly father that fiddle- ^ faddles with all that sort of thing.
Hedvig.
[Beside Gregers.] Now you can see the wild duck properly.
1
%<
126 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Gregers.
I was just looking at her. One of her wings seems to me to droop a bit.
Hedvig. Well, no wonder; her wing was broken, you know.
Gregers. And she trails one foot a little. Isn't that so?
Hialmar. Perhaps a very little bit.
Hedvig. Yes, it was by that foot the dog took hold of her.
Hialmar.
But otherwise she hasn't the least thing the matter with her ; and that is simply marvellous for a creature that has a charge of shot in her body, and has been between a dog's teeth
Gregers.
[ With a glance at Hedvig] and t^at has lain in
thedepthsj)ftiiej>ea—
Hedvig. [Smiling.'] Yes.
Act III.] a fir K fTHE WILD DUCK, 127
GlNA.
[Laying the tabled That blessed wild duck ! What a lot of fuss you do make over her.
Hialmar. Hm ; — will lunch soon be ready ?
GlNA.
Yes, directly. Hedvig, you must come and help me now.
[Gina and Hedvig go out into the kitchen,]
Hialmar.
[In a loiv voiced I think you had better not stand there looking in at father; he doesn't like it. [Gregers moves away from the garret door.] Besides, I may as well shut up before the others come. [Claps his hands to drive the fowls back.] Shh — shh, in with you ! [Draws up the curtain and pulls the doors to- gether^ All these contrivances are my own invention. It's really quite amusing to have things of this sort to potter with, and to put to rights when they get out of order. And it's absolutely necessary, too ; for Gina objects to having rabbits and fowls in the studio.
Gregers.
To be sure ; and I suppose the studio is your wife's special department ?
i2S THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
HlALMAR.
As a rule, I leave the everyday details of business to her ; for then I can take refuge in the parlour and give my mind to more important things.
Gregers. What things may they be, Hialmar?
HlALMAR.
I wonder you have not asked that question sooner. But perhaps you haven't heard of the invention ?
Gregers. The invention ? No.
HlALMAR.
Really ? Have you not ? Oh no, out there in the
wilds
Gregers. So you have invented something, have you ?
HlALMAR.
It is not quite completed yet ; but I am working at it. You can easily imagine that when I resolved to devote myself to photography, it wasn't simply with the idea of taking likenesses of all sorts of common- place people.
Gregers.
No ; your wife was saying the same thing just now.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 129
HlALMAR.
I swore that if I consecrated my powers to this handicraft, I would so exalt it that it should become both an art and a science. And to that end I deter- mined to make this great invention.
Gregers.
And what is the nature of the invention? What purpose does it serve ?
Hialmar.
Oh, my dear fellow, you mustn't ask for details yet. It takes time, you see. And you must not think that my motive is vanity. It is not for my own sake that 1 I am working. Oh no; it is my life's mission that / stands before me night and day.
f«M
Gregers. What is your Ji|i?!sjDaissk>n ?
Hialmar. Do you forget the old man with the silver hair ?
Gregers.
Your poor father ? Well, but what can you do for him?
Hialmar. /
I can raise up his self-respect from the dead restoring the name of Ekdal to honour and dignity
ISO THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Gregers. Then that is your life's mission ?
HlALMAR.
Yes. I will rescue the shipwrecked man. For
shipwrecked he was, by the very first blast of the storm.
Even while those terrible investigations were going on,
. he was no longer himself. That pistol there — the one
• we use to shoot rabbits with — has played its part in
Nhe tragedy of the house of Ekdal.
Gregers. The pistol ? Indeed ?
HlALMAR.
When the sentence of imprisonment was passed — he v had the pistol in his hand
Gregers. Had he ?
HlALMAR.
Yes ; but he dared not use it. His courage failed him. So broken, so demoralised was he even then ! Oh, can you understand it? He, a soldier; he, who had shot nine bears, and who was descended from two lieutenant-colonels — one after the other of course. Can you understand it, Gregers?
Gregers. Yes, I understand it well enough.
Act III.]
THE WILD DUCK.
131
HlALMAR.
I cannot. And once more the pistol played a part in the history of our house. When he had put on the grey clothes and was under lock and key — oh, that was a terrible time for me, I can tell you. I kept the blinds drawn down over both my windows. When I peeped out, I saw the sun shining as if nothing had happened. I could not understand it. I saw people going along the street, laughing and talking about indifferent things. I could not understand it. It seemed to me that the whole of existence must be at a standstill — as if under an eclipse.
Gregers. I felt like that too, when my mother died.
\ / HlALMAR.
It was in such an hour that Hialmar Ekdal pointed the pistol at his own breast.
GREGERS*
You too thought of-
HlALMAR.
Yes.
Gregers. But you did not fire ? / ^f
Hialmar. » 1/
No. At the decisive moment I won the victory t Jf
132 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
over myself. I remained in life. But I can assure you it takes some courage to choose life under cir- cumstances like those.
K Gregers.
Well, that depends on how you look at it.
HlALMAR.
I Yes, indeed, it takes courage. But I am glad I was
firm: for now I shall soon perfect my invention; and
Dr. Relling thinks, as I do myself, that father may be
v allowed to wear his uniform again. I will demand
^ that as my sole reward.
Gregers. So that is what he meant about his uniform ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, that is what he most yearns for. You can't think how my heart bleeds for him. Every time we celebrate any little family festival — Gina's and my wedding-day, or whatever it may be — in comes the old man in the lieutenant's uniform of happier days. But if he only hears a knock at the door — for he daren't show himself to strangers, you know— he hurries back to his room again as fa»t as his old legs can carry him. Oh, it's heartrending for a son to see such things !
Gregers.
How long do you think it will take you to finish your invention?
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 133
HlALMAR.
Come now, you mustn't expect me to enter into particulars like that. An invention is not a thing completely under one's own control. It depends largely on inspiration — on intuition — and it is almost impossible to predict when the inspiration may come.
Gregers. But it's advancing ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, certainly, it is advancing. I turn it over in my mind every day; I am full of it. Every afternoon, when I have had my dinner, I shut myself up in the parlour where I can ponder undisturbed. But I can't be goaded to it; it's not a bit of good; Relling says so too.
Gregers.
And you don't think that all that business in the garret draws you off and distracts you too much?
HlALMAR.
No no no, quite the contrary. You mustn't say that. I cannot be everlastingly absorbed in the same laborious train of thought. I must have something alongside of it to fill up the time of waiting. The inspiration, the intuition, you see — when it comes, it comes, and there's an end of it.
134 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Gregers.
My dear Hialmar, I almost thin k you have som e- thin g of the wild <\ uc\c \n ynn.
Hialmar. Something of the wild duck ? How do you mean ?
Gregers.
You have dived down and bitten yourself fast in Jheundergrowth.
Hialmar.
Are you alluding to the well-nigh fatal shot that has broken my father's wing — and mine too ?
Gregers.
Not exactly to that. I don't say that your wing has been broken; but yjguh ave stiaed^into a poisonous jTi arsh T Hial mar: an insidious disease has taken hold of you, and you have sunk down to die in the dark.
Hialmar.
I ? To die in the dark ? Look here, Gregers, you must really leave off talking such nonsense.
Gregers.
Don't be afraid; I shall find a way to help you up again. I too have a mission in life now; I found it yesterday.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 135
HlALMAR.
That's all very well; but you will please leave me out of it. I can assure you that — apart from my very natural melancholy, of course — I am as contented as any one can wish to be.
Gregers. tcJpXA
Your contentment is an effect of the marsh poison, y* ']t/&*^
HlALMAR.
Now, my dear Gregers, pray do not go on about disease and poison; I am not used to that sort of talk. In my house, nobody ever speaks to me about un- pleasant things.
Gregers.
Ah, t h a t I can easily believe.
HlALMAR.
It's not good for me, you see. And there are no marsh poisons here, as you express it. The poor photographer's roof is lowly, I know — and my circum- stances are narrow. But I am an inventor, and I am the breadwinner of a family. That exalts me above my mean surroundings. — Ah, here comes lunch !
[Gina and Hedvig bring bottles of ale, a decanter of brandy, glasses, etc. At the same time, Relling and Molvik enter from the passage; they are both without hat or overcoat. Molvik is dressed in
*&?$
^
P c/
136 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
GlNA.
[P/acing the things upon the tafi/e.] Ah, you two have come in the nick of time.
Relling.
Molvik got it into his head that he could smell herring-salad, and then there was no holding him. — Good morning again, Ekdal.
Hialmar.
Gregers, let me introduce you to Mr. Molvik. Doctor Oh, you know Relling, don't you ?
Gregers. Yes, slightly.
Relling.
Oh, Mr. Werle, junior ! Yes, we two have had one : or two little skirmishes up at the Hoidal works. r- You've just moved in ?
Gregers. I moved in this morning.
Relling.
Molvik and I live right under you ; so you haven't far to go for the doctor and the clergyman, if you should need anything in that line,
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 137
Gregers.
v Thanks, it's not quite unlikely; for yesterday we 1 were thirteen at table.
Hialmar.
Oh, come now, don't let us get upon unpleasant subjects again !
Relling.
You may make your mind easy, Ekdal; I'll be hanged if the ringer of fate points to y o u.
Hialmar.
I should hope not, for the sake of my family. But let us sit down now, and eat and drink and be merry.
Gregers. Shall we not wait for your father ?
Hialmar.
No, his lunch will be taken in to him later. Come along !
\l'he men seat themselves at table, and cat and drink. Gina and Hedvig go in and out and wait upon them.\
Relling.
Molvik was frightfully screwed yesterday, Mrs. Ekdal,
?
138 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
GiNA. Really ? Yesterday again ?
Relling.
Didn't you hear him when I brought him home last night ?
Gina.
No, I can't say I did.
Relling.
That was a good thing, for Molvik was disgusting last night.
Gina.
Is that true, Molvik?
Molvik.
J I^et us d raw a veiljjver last night's proceedings. That sort of thing Tsftotally foreign to my better self.
Relling.
[To Gregers.] It comes over him like a sort of possession, and then I have to go Out on the loose with him. Mr. Molvik is daemonic, you see.
Gregers. Daemonic?
Relling. Molvik is daemonic, yes.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 139
Gregers.
Hm,
Relling.
And daemonic natures are not made to walk straight through the world; they must meander a little now and then. — Well, so you still stick up there at those horrible grimy works?
Gregers. I have stuck there until now.
Relling.
And did you ever manage to collect that claim you went about presenting?
Gregers. Claim? [Understands him .] Ah, I see.
Hialmar. Have you been presenting claims, Gregers?
Gregers.
Oh, nonsense.
Relling. \jt
Faith, but he has, though ! He went round to all the cotters' cabins, presenting something he called "the claim of the ideal,"
140 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
GREGERS.
I was young then.
Relling.
You're right; you were very young. And as for the claim of the ideal — you never got it honoured while / was up there.
Gregers. Nor since either.
Relling.
Ah, then you've learnt to knock a little discount off, I expect
Gregers. Never, when I have a true man to deal with.
Hialmar.
No, I should think not, indeed. A little butter, Gina.
Relling.
And a slice of bacon for Molvik.
Molvik. Ugh ! not bacon !
[A knock at the garret door.]
Hialmar.
Open the door, Hedvig; father wants to come out. [Hedvig gees over and of ens the door a little
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK, 141
way; Ekdal enters with a fresh rabbit skin; she closes the door after him.]
Ekdal.
Good morning, gentlemen! Good sport to-day. Shot a big one.
Hialmar.
And you've gone and skinned it without waiting for
me !
Ekdal.
Salted it too. It's good tender meat, is rabbit; it's sweet; it tastes like sugar. Good appetite to you, gentlemen !
[Goes into his room.]
Molvik.
[Rising.] Excuse me ; I can't ; I must
get downstairs immediately
Relling. Drink some soda water, man !
Molvik. \
[Hurrying aivay.] Ugh — ugh !
[Goes out by the passage door.]
Relling. [To Hialmar.] Let us drain a glass to the old hunter,
\i
142 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
HlALMAR.
[Clinks glassses with him.'] To the undaunted sportsman who has looked death in the face !
Relling.
I To the grey-haired [Drinks^ By-the-bye, is
I his hair grey or white?
HlALMAR.
Something between the two, I fancy; for that matter, he has very few hairs left of any colour.
Relling.
Well well, one can get through the world with a wig. After all, you are a happy man, Ekdal ; you have your noble mission to labour for
I
i , HlALMAR.
y And I do labour, I can tell you.
Relling.
And then you have your excellent wife, shuffling quietly in and out in her felt slippers, with that see-saw walk of hers, and making everything cosy and comfort- able about you.
HlALMAR.
Yes, Gina — [Nods to her] — you are a good helpmate on the path of life.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 143
Gin a. Oh, don't sit there cncketizim* me.
Relling. And your Hedvig too, Ekdal !
Hialmar.
[Affected.] The child, yes! The child before everything ! Hedvig, come here to me. [Strokes her hair] YVhat day is it to-morrow, eh ?
Hedvig.
[Shaking him.] Oh no, you're not to say anything, father !
Hialmar.
It cuts me to the heart when I think what a poor affair it will be ; only a little festivity in the garret
Hedvig. Oh, but that!s just what I like !
Relling.
Just you wait till the wonderful invention sees the light, Hedvig !
Hialmar.
Yes indeed — then you shall see — — ! Hedvig, I have resolved to make your future secure. You shall live in comfort all your days. I will demand — somer
i 4 4 THE WILD DUCK. [Acr III.
thing or other— on your behalf. That, shall be the poor inventor's sole reward
Hedvig.
[Whispering ivith her arms round his neck.\ Oh you dear, kind father !
Relling.
[To Gregers.] Come now, don't you find it pleasant, for once in a way, to sit at a well-spread table in a happy family circle ?
Hialmar. Ah yes, I really prize these social hours.
Gregers. For my part, I don't thrive in marsh vapours.
Relling. Marsh vapours?
Hialmar. Oh, don't begin with that stuff again!
GlNA.
Goodness knows there's no vapours in this house, Mr. Werle; I give the place a good airing every blessed day.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 145
Gregers.
[Leaves the tabled No airing you can give will drive out the taint 1 mean.
Hialmar. Taint!
GlNA.
Yes, what do you say to that, Ekdal !
Relling.
Excuse me— may it not be you yourself that have brought the taint from those mines up there?
Gregers.
It is like you to call what I bring into this house a taint.
Relling.
[Goes up to him.] Look here, Mr. Werle, junior: I have a strong suspicion that you are still carrying about that "claim of the ideal" large as life, in your coat-tail pocket.
Gregers. I carry it in my breast
Relling. Well, wherever you carry it, I advise you not to
i 4 6 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
come dunning us with it here, so long as / am on the premises.
Gregers. And if I do so none the less?
Relling.
Then you'll go head-foremost down the stairs; now I've warned you.
Hialmar. [Rising.] Oh, but Relling !
Gregers. Yes, you may turn me out
Gina.
[interposing between them?] We can't have that, 1 Relling. But I must say, Mr. Werle, it ill becomes you to talk about vapours and taints, after all the mess you made with your stove.
[A knock nt the passage door.]
Hedvig. Mother, there's somebody knocking.
Hialmar.
There now, we're going to have a whole lot of people!
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 147
GlNA.
I'll go [Goes over and opens the door, starts, and
draws back.] Oh — oh dear!
[Werle, in a fur coat, advances one step into the room.]
Werle. Excuse me; but I think my son is staying here.
Gina. [With a gulp.] Yes.
HlALMAR.
[Approaching him.] Won't you do us the honour to ?
Werle.
Thank you, I merely wish to speak to my son.
Gregers. What is it? Here I am.
Werle. I want a few words with you, in your room.
Gregers. In my room ? Very well [About to go.]
Gina. No, no, your room's not in a fit state —
M
:** THE n'lLD DUCK. [Act III.
WE*L£.
Weil then, out in :hr passage here; I want to have a few words with von alone.
HiALMAR.
Yoa can hare them here, sir. Come into the parlour, Reliing.
[Hialmar and Reujxg go off to the right Gixa takes Hedvig with her into the kitchen.^
Gregers. {After a short fa use J] Well, now we are alone.
Werle.
From something you let fall last evening, and from your coming to lodge with the Ekdals, I can't help inferring that you intend to make yourself unpleasant to me, in one way or another.
-y i
Gregers.
intend to open Hialmar Ekdal's eyes. He shall see his position as it really is — that is all.
Werle. Is that the mission in life you spoke of yesterday ?
Gregers. Yes. You have left me no other.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 149
Werle.
Is it I, then, that have crippled your mind, Gregers ?
Gregers.
You have crippled my whole life. I am not
thinking of all that about mother . But it's
' thanks to you that I am continually haunted and harassed by a guilty conscience.
Werle. Indeed ! It is your conscience that troubles you, is
I ought to have taken a stand against you when the trap was set for Lieutenant Ekdal. I ought to have cautioned him ; for I had a misgiving as to what was in the wind.
Werle. Yes, that was the time to have spoken.
Gregers.
I did not dare to, I was so cowed and spiritless. I was mortally afraid of you — not only then, but long afterwards.
Werle. You have got over that fear now, it appears.
!5o THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Gregers.
Yes, fortunately. The wrong done to old Ekdal, both by me and by — others, can never be undone; but Hialmar I can rescue from all the falsehood and deception that are bringing him to ruin.
/ Werle.
Do you think that will be doing him a kindness?
Gregers. I have not the least doubt of it.
Werle.
You think our worthy photographer is the sort of man to appreciate such friendly offices ?
Gregers. Yes, I do.
Werle. Hm — we shall see.
Gregers.
Besides, if I am to go on living, I must try to find some cure for my sick conscience.
Werle.
It will never be sound. Your conscience has been sickly from childhood That is a legacy from your mother, Gregers — the only one she left you,
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 151
Gregers.
/ [With a scornful half-smile.'] Have you not yet forgiven her for the mistake you made in supposing she would bring you a fortune ?
Werle.
Don't let us wander from the point. — Then you hold to your purpose of setting young Ekdal upon what you imagine to be the right scent ?
Gregers. Yes, that is my fixed resolve.
Werle.
Well, in that case I might have spared myself this visit; for of course it is useless to ask whether you will return home with me?
Gregers. Quite useless.
Werle. And I suppose you won't enter the firm either?
Gregers. No.
Werle. Very good. But as I am thinking of marrying
152 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IIL
again, your' share in the property will fall to you at once. 1
Gregers.
[Quickfy.] No, I do not want that
Werle. You don't want it?
Gregers. No, I dare not take it, for conscience' sake.
Werle.
[After a pause.} Are you going up to the works again?
Gregers.
No ; I consider myself released from your service.
Werle. But what are you going to do?
Gregers. Only to fulfil my mission; nothing more.
Werle.
Well, but afterwards? What are you going to live upon?
1 By Norwegian law, before a widower can marry again, a certain proportion of bis property must be settled on his children by his former marriage.
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 153
Gregers. I have laid by a little out of my salary.
Werle. How long will that last ?
Werle. What do you mean ?
Gregers. I shall answer no more questions.
Werle. Good-bye then, Gregers.
Gregers. Good-bye.
[Werle goes.]
Hialmar. [Peeping in.] He's gone, isn't he?
Gregers.
Yes.
[Hialmar and Relling enter; also Gina and Hedvig from the kitchen^
154 THE WILD DUCK. [Act III.
Relling. That luncheon-party was a failure.
Gregers.
Put on your coat, Hialmar; I want you to come for a long walk with me.
Hialmar.
With pleasure. What was it your father wanted? Had it anything to do with me?
Gregers.
Come along. We must have a talk. I'll go and put on my overcoat.
[Goes out by the passage door.]
GlNA.
You shouldn't go out with him, Ekdal. y- ;i-
Relling. No, don't you do it. Stay where you are.
Hialmar.
[Gets his hat and overcoat^ Oh, nonsense! When a friend of my youth feels impelled to open his mind to me in private
Act III.] THE WILD DUCK. 155
RELLING. .
But devil take it — don't you see that the fellow's J I
mad, cracked, demented ! I ;
Gina.
There, what did I tell you ! His mother before him had crazy fits like that sometimes.
Hialmar.
The more need for a friend's watchful eye. [To Gina.] Be sure you have dinner ready in good time. Good-bye for the present.
[Goes out by the passage door.]
Relling.
It's a thousand pities the fellow didn't go to hell j through one of the Hoidal mines.
Gina. Good Lord! what makes you say that?
Relling. [Muttering.] Oh, I have my own reasons.
Gina. Do you think young Werle is really mad?
1 56 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IIL
/ Relling.
No, worse luck; he's no madder than most other people. But one disease he has certainly got in his system.
Gina.
What is it that's the matter with him?
Jjl Well, I'll tell you, Mrs. Ekdal. He is r|an acute attack of integrity.
;
GlNA.
Integrity?
Hedvig. Is that a kind of disease?
Relling. Yes, it's a national disease; but it only appears sporadical ly. [Nods to Gina.] Thanks for your hospitalilyT
[He goes out by the passage door!]
Gina.
[Moving restlessly to and fro.] Ugh, that Gregers Werle — he was always a wretched creature.
Hedvig.
[Standing by the table^ and looking searehingly at her.] I think all this is very strange.
[ Hi almar Ekdal's studio. A photograph has just been taken; a camera with the cloth over if, a pedestal, Hvo chairs, a folding table, etc., are standing out in the room. Afternoon light; the sun is going down; a little later it begins to grow dusk.]
[Gina stands in the passage doonvay, with a little box and a 7vet glass plate in her hand, and is speaking to somebody outside^]
Gina.
Yes, certainly. When I make a promise I keep it. The first dozen shall be ready on Monday. Good afternoon.
[Some one is heard going downstairs. Gina shuts the door, slips the plate into the box, and puts it into the covered camera?^
Hedvig. [Comes in from the kitchen.] Are they gone?
Gina.
[Tidying up.] Yes, thank goodness, I've got rid of them at last.
i$« THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Hedvig.
But can you imagine why father hasn't come home yet?
Gina.
Are you sure he's not down in Relling's room?
Hedvig.
No, he's not; I ran down the kichen stair just now and asked.
Gina.
And his dinner standing and getting cold, too.
Hedvig.
Yes, I can't understand it. Father's always so careful to be home to dinner!
Gina. Oh, he'll be here directly, you'll see.
Hedvig.
I wish he would come; everything seems so queer to-day.
Gina.
[Calls out. \ There he is!
[Hialmar Ekdal comes in at the passage door.]
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 159
Hedvig.
[Going to Aim.] Father! Oh what a time we've been waiting for you !
Gina.
[Glancing sidelong at him.} You've been out a long time, Ekdal.
Hialmar.
[ Without looking at her.} Rather long, yes.
[He takes off his overcoat; Gina and Hedvig go to help him; he motions them away.]
Gina. Perhaps you've had dinner with Werle?
Hialmar. [Hanging up his coal.] No.
Gina.
[Going tmvards the kitchen door.] Then I'll bring some in for you.
Hialmar. No; let the dinner alone. I want nothing to eat.
Hedvig. [Going nearer to him.] Are you not well, father?
160 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
Well? Oh yes, well enough. We have had a tiring walk, Gregers and I.
Gina.
You oughtn't to have gone so far, Ekdal; you're not used to it
HlALMAR.
Hm; there's many a thing a man must get used to in this world. [ Wanders about the room.] Has any one been here whilst I was out?
Gina. Nobody but the two sweethearts,
'^y\
HlALMAR.
No new orders?
Gina. No, not to-day.
Hedvig. There will be some to-morrow, father, you'll see.
HlALMAR.
hope there will; for to-morrow I am going to set
Hedvig.
To-morrow! Don't you remember what day it is to-morrow?
\
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK, 161
HlALMAR. i
Oh yes, by-the-bye . Well, the day after, then.
Henceforth I mean to do everything myself; I shall take all the work into my own hands.
Gin a.
Why, what can be the good of that, Ekdal? It'll only make your life a burden to you. I can manage the photography all right; and you can go on working at your invention.
Hedvig.
And think of the wild duck, father, — and all the hens and rabbits and !
Hialmar.
Don't talk to me of all that trash ! From to-morrow I will never set foot in the garret again.
■//'
i r «*
Hedvig.
Oh but, father, you promised that we should have a little party
Hialmar
r <
niALMAR. | . I '
Hm, true. Well then, from the day after to-morrow. I V, I should almost like to wring that cursed wild duck's I » neck!
Hedvig. [Shrieks.] The wild duck! *
162
THE WILD DUCK.
[Act IV.
Well I never!
GlNA.
Hedvig.
{Shaking Aim.] Oh no, father; you know it's m y wild duck !
Hialmar.
That is why I don't do it. I haven't the heart to— for your sake, Hedvig. But in my inmost soul I feel that I ought to do it. I ought not to tolerate under my roof a creature that has been through those hands.
Gina.
Why, good gracious, even if grandfather did get it from that poor creature Pettersen
Hialmar.
[ Wandering about, ] There are certain claims — what shall I call them? — let me say^laims of the ideal— certain obligations, which a man cannot disregard without injury to his soul.
Hedvig.
{Going after him.'] But think of the wild duck, — the poor wild duck!
Hialmar.
[Stops.] I tell you I will spare it — for your sake. Not a hair of its head shall be — I mean, it shall be spared. There are greater problems than that to be
Act IV.]
THE WILD DUCK.
i*J
dealt with. But you should go out a little now, Hedvig, as usual; it is getting dusk enough for you now.
Hedvig.
No, I don't care about going out now.
HlALMAR.
Yes do; it seems to me your eyes are blinking a great deal; all these vapours in here are bad for you. The air is heavy under this roof.
Hedvig.
Very well then, Til run down the kitchen stair and go for a little walk. My cloak and hat? — oh, they're in my own room. Father — be sure you don't do the wild duck any harm whilst I'm out.
HlALMAR.
Not a feather of its head shall be touched. [Draws
her to him,'] You and I, Hedvig — we two !
Well, go along.
[Hedvig nods to her parents and goes out through the kitchek.]
HlALMAR.
[ Walks about without looking up.} Gina.
Gina.
Yes?
12
164 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
From to-morrow — or, say, from the day after to-morrow — I should like to keep the household account-book myself.
Gina.
Do you want to keep the accounts too, now?
Hialmak. Yes; or to check the receipts at any rate.
Gina. I^ord help us ! t h a t's soon done.
Hialmar.
One would hardly think so; at any rate you seem to make the money go a very long way. \Stops and looks at her.'] How do you manage it?
Gina. It's because me and Hedvig, we need so little.
Hialmar.
Is it the case that father is very liberally paid for the copying he does for Mr. Werle?
Gina.
I don't know as he gets anything" out of the way. I don't know the rates for that sort of work.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 165
HlALMAR.
Well, what does he get, about? Let me hear!
Gina.
Oh, it varies; I daresay it'll come to about as much as he costs us, with a little pocket-money over.
HlALMAR.
As much as he costs us ! And you have never told me this before!
Gina.
No, how could I tell you? It pleased you so much to think he got everything from you.
HlALMAR.
And he gets it from Mr. Werle !
Gina. Oh well, he has plenty and to spare, he has.
HlALMAR.
Light the lamp for me, please!
Gina.
{Lighting the /amp.] And of course we don't know as it's Mr. Werle himself; it may be Graberg
HlALMAR.
Why attempt such an evasion?
rsz: stzzj: jtcvx: -±n nr.
. liJl Z «mCT _ 2DLT :
»-
%~TM1
Gwa.
I: «kt : at :be got iiindfili t ti tint copying. It vfi Bertha, nea sbe ased to esse abort us.
Hialmak. I: seerzs to roe pour voice is trembling.
Gka. ' Putting the lamp-shade ml] Is it?
HlALMAR.
And your bands are shaking, are they not?
Gixa.
[firm/y.] Come right out with it, EkdaL What has he been saying about me?
HlALMAR.
Is it true— can it be true that — that there was an --an understanding between you and Mr. Werle, while you were in service there?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK, 167
GlNA.
That's not true. Not at that time. Mr. Werle did come after me, that's a fact. And his wife thought there was something in it, and then she made such a hocus-pocus and hurly-burly, and she hustled me and bustled me about so, that I left her service.
HlALMAR.
But afterwards, then !
Gina,
Well, then I went home. And mother — well, she wasn't the woman you took her for, Ekdal; she kept on worrying and worrying at me about one thing and another — for Mr. Werle was a widower by that time.
HlALMAR.
Well, and then?
Gina.
I suppose you've got to know it He gave me no peace until he'd had his way.
HlALMAR.
[Striking his hands together.'] And this is the mother of my child ! How could you hide this from me?
Gina.
Yes, it was wrong of me; I ought certainly to have told you long ago.
168 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
You should have told me at the very first; — then I should have known the sort of woman you were.
Gina. But would you have married me all the same?
HlALMAR.
How can you dream that I would?
Gina.
That's just why I didn't dare tell you anything, then. For Fd come to care for you so much, you see; and I couldn't go and make myself utterly miserable
HlALMAR.
[Walks about.'] And this is my Hedvig's mother! And to know that all I see before me — [Kicks at a chair] — all that I call my home — I owe to a favoured predecessor! Oh that scoundrel Werle!
Gina.
Do you repent of the fourteen — the fifteen years as we've lived together?
HlALMAR.
[Placing himself in front of her.] Have you not, every day, every hour, repented of the spider's-web of deceit you have spun around me? Answer me that! How could you help writhing with penitence and remorse?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 169
GlNA.
Oh, my dear Ekdal, I've had all I could do to look after the house and get through the day's work
Hialmar. Then you never think of reviewing your past?
Gina.
No; Heaven knows I'd almost forgotten those old stories.
Hialmar.
Oh, this dull, callous contentment! To me there is something revolting about it. Think of it — never so much as a twinge of remorse!
Gina.
But tell me, Ekdal — what would have become of you if you hadn't had a wife like me?
Hialmar.
Like you !
Gina.
Yes; for you know I've always been a bit more practical and wide awake than you. Of course I'm a year or two older.
Hialmar.
What would have become of me!
170 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Gina.
You'd got into all sorts of bad ways when first you met me; that you can't deny.
Hialmar.
" Bad ways " do you call them? Little do you know what a man goes through when he's in grief and despair — especially a man of my fiery temperament.
Gina.
Well, well, that may be so. And I've no reason to crow over you, neither; for you turned a moral of a husband, that you did, as soon as ever you had a house and home of your own. — And now we'd got everything so nice and cosy about us; and me and Hedvig was just thinking we'd soon be able to let ourselves go a bit, in the way of both food and clothes.
Hialmar. In the swamp of deceit, yes.
Gina.
I wish to goodness that detestable being had never set his foot inside our doors!
Hialmar.
And I, too, thought my home such a pleasant one. That was a delusion. Where shall I now find the elasticity of spirit to bring my invention into the world of reality? Perhaps it will die with me; and then it will be your past, Gina, thit will have killed it.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK'. 171
GlNA.
[Nearly crying.] You mustn't say such things, Ekdal. Me, that have only wanted to do the best I could for you, all my days!
Hialmar.
I ask you, what becomes of the breadwinner's dream? When I used to lie in there on the sofa and brood over my invention, I had a clear enough presentiment that it would s.ip my vitality to the last drop. I felt even then that the day when I held the patent in my hand — that day — would bring my — - release. And then it was my dream that you should live on after me, the dead inventor's well-to-do widow.
Gina.
[Drying her /ears.] No, you mustn't talk like that, Ekdal. May the Lord never let me see the day I am left a widow !
Hialmar.
Oh, the whole dream has vanished. It is all over now. All over!
[Gregers Werle opens the passage door cautiously and looks in.]
Gregers. May I come in?
Hialmar. Yes, come in.
172 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Gregers.
[Comes fonvard, his face beaming with satisfaction, and holds out both his hands to them.] Well, dear
friends ! [Looks from one to the other, and
whispers to Hialmar.] Have you not done it yet?
HlALMAR.
[Aloud.] It is done.
Gregers.
It is?
Hialmar.
I have passed through the bitterest moments of my life.
Gregers.
But also, I trust, the most ennobling.
Hialmar.
Well, at any rate, we have got through it for the present.
Gina.
God forgive you, Mr. Werle.
Gregers. [In great surprise.] But I don't understand this.
Hialmar. What don't you understand?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 173
Gregers.
After so great a crisis — a crisis that is to be the starting-point of an entirely new life — of a communion founded on truth, and free from all taint of decep- tion
Hialmar.
Yes yes, I know; I know that quite well.
Gregers.
I confidently expected, when I entered the room, to find the light of transfiguration shining upon me from both husband and wife. And now I see nothing but dulness, oppression, gloom
Gina. Oh, is that it?
[Takes off the lamp-shade.']
Gregers.
You will not understand me, Mrs. Ekdal. Ah well, \
you, I suppose, need time to . But you, j
Hialmar? Surely you feel a new consecration after | the great crisis.
Hialmar.
Yes, of course I do. That is — in a sort of way.
Gregers.
For surely nothing in the world can compare with the joy of forgiving one who has erred, and raising her up to oneself in love.
174 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
Do you think a man can so easily throw off the effects of the bitter cup I have drained?
Gregers.
No, not a common man, perhaps. But a man like you !
HlALMAR.
Good God! I know that well enough. But you must keep me up to it, Gregers. It takes time, you know.
Gregers. You have much of the wild duck in you, Hialmar. [Relling has come in at the passage door.]
Relling. Oho ! is the wild duck to the fore again?
HlALMAR.
Yes; Mr. Werle's wing-broken victim.
Relling.
Mr. Werle's ? So it's him you are talking
about ?
HlALMAR.
Him and — ourselves.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 175
Relling.
\In an undertone to Gregers.] May the devil fly away with you!
Hialmar.
What is that you are saying?
Relling.
Only uttering a heartfelt wish that this quacksalver would take himself off. If he stays here, he is quite equal to making an utter mess of life, for both of you.
Gregers.
These two will not make a mess of life, Mr. Relling. Of course I won't speak of Hialmar — him we know. But she too, in her innermost heart, has certainly something loyal and sincere
Gina.
{Almost crying.] You might have let me alone for what I was, then.
Relling.
[To Gregers.] Is it rude to ask what you really want in this house?
Gregers.
To lay the foundations of a true marriage.
Relling.
So you don't think EkdaPs marriage is good enough as h is ? -
I
176 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Gregers.
No doubt it is as good a marriage as most others, / worse luck. But a true marriage it has yet to 1 become.
HlALMAR.
You have never had eyes for the claims of the ideal, Relling.
Relling.
Rubbish, my boy! — But excuse me, Mr. Werle: how many — in round numbers — how many true marriages have you seen in the course of your life?
Gregers. Scarcely a single one.
Relling.
Nor I either.
Gregers.
But I have seen innumerable marriages of the opposite kind. And it has been my fate to see at close quarters what ruin such a marriage can work in two human souls.
HlALMAR.
A man's whole moral basis may give way beneath his feet; that is the terrible part of it.
Relling. Well, I can't say I've ever been exactly married, so
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK, 177
I don't pretend to speak with authority. But this I know, that the child enters into the marriage problem. And you must leave the child in peace.
Hialmar. Oh — Hedvig ! my poor Hedvig !
Relling.
Yes, you must be good enough to keep Hedvig outside of all this. You two are grown-up people ; you are free, in God's name, to make what mess and muddle you please of your life. But you must deal cautiously with Hedvig, I tell you; else you may do her a great injury.
Hialmar.
An injury!
Relling.
Yes, or she may do herself an injury — and perhaps others too.
Gina. How can you know that, Relling?
Hialmar. Her sight is in no immediate danger, is it?
Relling.
I am not talking about her sight. Hedvig is at a critical age. She may be getting all sorts of mischief into her head.
178 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
GlNA.
That's true — I've noticed it already! She's taken to carrying on with the fire, out in the kitchen. She calls it playing at house-on-fire. I'm often scared for fear she really sets fire to the house.
Relling. You see ; I thought as much.
Gregers. [To Relling.] But how do you account for that?
Relling. [Sullenly.] Her constitution's changing, sir.
HlALMAR.
So long as the child has m e ! So long as /
am above ground !
[A knock at the door.]
Gin a.
Hush, Ekdal; there's some one in the passage. [Calls out.] Come in!
[Mrs. Sorby, in walking dress> comes in.]
Mrs. Sorby. Good evening.
Gin a. [Going toivards her.] Is it really you, Bertha?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 179
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, of course it is. But I'm disturbing you, I'm afraid?
Hialmar. No, not at all; an emissary from that house
Mrs. Sorby.
[To Gina.] To tell the truth, I hoped your men- folk would be out at this time. I just ran up to have a little chat with you, and to say good-bye.
Gina. Good-bye? Are you going away, then?
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, to-morrow morning, — up to Hoidal. Mr. Werle started this afternoon. [Lightly \ to Gregers.] He asked me to say good-bye for him.
Gina.
Only fancy !
Hialmar.
So Mr. Werle has gone? And now you are going after him?
Mrs. Sorby. Yes, what do you say to that, Ekdal?
13
I So THE WILD DUCK, [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
I say: beware!
Gregers.
I must explain the situation. My father and Mrs. Sorby are going to be married.
HlALMAR.
Going to be married!
Gina. Oh Bertha! So it's come to that at last!
Relling.
[His voice quivering a tittle.] This is surely not true?
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, my dear Relling, it's true enough.
Relling. You are going to marry again?
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, it looks like it. Werle has got a special licence, and we are going to be married quite quietly, up at the works.
Gregers.
J Then I must wish you all happiness, like a dutiful ! stepson.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 181
Mrs. Sorby.
Thank you very much — if you mean what you say. I certainly hope it will lead to happiness, both for Werle and for me.
Relling.
You have every reason to hope that. Mr. Werle never gets drunk — so far as I know; and I don't suppose he's in the habit of thrashing his wives, like the late lamented horse-doctor.
Mrs. Sorby.
Come now, let Sorby rest in peace. He had his good points too.
Relling.
Mr. Werle has better ones, I have no doubt.
Mrs. Sorby.
He hasn't frittered away all that was good in him, at any rate. The man who does that must take the consequences.
Relling. ^ ^
I shall go out with Molvik this evening. ,- */
Mrs. Sorby.
You mustn't do that, Relling. Don't do it — for my sake.
Relling.
There's nothing else for it. [To Hialmar.] If you're going with us, come along.
182 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
GlNA.
| No, thank you. Elcdal doesn't go in for that sort of dispensation.
"""" Hialmar.
[Half aloud, in vexation] Oh, do hold your tongue!
Relling. Good-bye, Mrs, — Werle.
[Goes out through the passage door.]
Gregers.
[To Mrs. Sorby.] You seem to know Dr. Relling pretty intimately.
Mrs. Sorby.
Yes, we have known each other for many years. At one time it seemed as if things might have gone further between us.
Gregers.
It was surely lucky for you that they did not.
Mrs. Sorby.
You may well say that. But I have always been wary of acting on impulse. A woman can't afford absolutely to throw herself away.
Gregers.
Are you not in the least afraid that I may let my father know about this old friendship?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 183
Mrs. Sorby. Why, of course I have told him all about it myself.
Gregers. Indeed?
Mrs. Sorby.
Your father knows every single thing that can, with any truth, be said about me. I have told him all; it was the first thing I did when I saw what was in his mind.
Gregers.
Then you have been franker than most people, I think.
Mrs. Sorby.
I have always been frank. Wc women find that the best policy.
Hialmar. What do you say to that, Gina?
GlNA.
Oh, we're not all alike, us women aren't. Some are made one way, some another.
Mrs. Sorby.
Well, for my part, Gina, I believe it's wisest to do \
as I've done. And Werle has no secrets either, on his { side. That's really the great bond between us, you
see. Now he ,can talk to me as openly as a child, j
184 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
He has never had the xrhance to do that before. Fancy a man like him, full of health and vigour, passing his whole youth and the best years of his life in listening to nothing but penitential sermons ! And very often the sermons had for their text the most imaginary offences — at least so I understand.
Gina. That's true enough.
Gregers.
If you ladies are going to follow up this topic, I had better withdraw.
Mrs. Sorby.
You can stay so far as that's concerned. I shan't say a word more. But I wanted you to know that I had done nothing secretly or in an underhand way. I may seem to have come in for a great piece of luck; and so I have, in a sense. But after all, I don't think I am getting any more than I am giving. I shall stand by him always, and I can tend and care for him as no one else can, now that he is getting helpless.
Hialmar. Getting helpless?
Gregers. [To Mrs. Sorby.] Hush, don't speak of that here.
Mrs. Sorby.
f\ There is no disguising it any longer, however much )ie would like to. He is going blind.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 185
P
HlALMAR.
[Starts.] Going blind? That's strange. He too oing blind!
Gina. Lots of people do.
Mrs. Sorby.
And you can imagine what that means to a business man. Well, I shall try as well as I can to make my eyes take the place of his. But I mustn't stay any longer; I have such heaps of things to do. — Oh, by-the-bye, Ekdal, I was to tell you that if there is anything Werle can do for you, you must just apply to Graberg.
Gregers.
That offer I am sure Hialmar Ekdal will decline with thanks.
Mrs. Sorby. Indeed? I don't think he used to be so
Gina.
No, Bertha, Ekal doesn't need anything from Mr. Werle now.
Hialmar.
[S/atvfy, and with emphasis.'] Will you present my compliments to your future husband, and say that I intend very shortly to call upon Mr. Graberg
186 THK WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Gregers. What! You don't really mean that?
Hialmar.
I To call upon Mr. Graberg, I say, and obtain an « account of the sum I owe his principal. I will pay 1 that debt of honour — ha ha ha! a debt of honour, let
. us call it! In any case, I will pay the whole, with five
■ per cent, interest.
GlNA.
But, my dear Ekdal, God knows we haven't got the money to do it.
Hialmar.
Be good enough to tell your future husband that I am working assiduously at my invention. Please tell him that what sustains me in this laborious task is the wish to free myself from a torturing burden of debt. That is my reason for proceeding with the invention. The entire profits shall be devoted to releasing me from my pecuniary obligations to your future husband.
Mrs Sorby. Something has happened here.
Hialmar. Yes, you are right.
Mrs. Sorby. Well, good-bye. I had something else to speak to
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 187
you about, Gina; but it must keep till another time. Good-bye.
[Hialmar and Gregers bow silently. Gina follows Mrs. Sorby to the door.]
Hialmar.
Not beyond the threshold, Gina!
[Mrs. Sorby goes; Gina shuts the door after her.]
Hialmar.
There now, Gregers; I have got that burden pf debt off my mind.
Gregers. You soon will, at all events.
Hialmar. I think my attitude may be called correct.
Gregers. You are the man I have always taken you for.
Hialmar.
In certain cases, it is impossible to disregard the claim of the ideal. Yet, as the breadwinner of a family, I cannot but writhe and groan under it. I can tell you it is no joke for a man without capital to attempt the repayment of a long-standing obligation, over which, so to speak, the dust of oblivion had
188 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
gathered. But it cannot be helped: the Man in me demands his rights.
Gregers.
{Laying his hand on Hialmar's shoulder?^ My dear Hialmar — was it not a good thing I came?
Hialmar.
Yes.
Gregers.
Are you not glad to have had your true position made clear to you?
Hialmar.
[Somewhat impatiently.] Yes, of course I am. But there is one thing that is revolting to my sense of justice.
Gregers.
And what is that?
Hialmar.
It is that — but I don't know whether I ought to express myself so unreservedly about your father.
Gregers. Say what you please, so far as I am concerned.
Hialmar.
Well then, is it not exasperating to think that it is not I, but he, who will realise the true marriage?
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 189
Gregers. How can you say such a thing?
Hialmar.
Because it is clearly the case. Isn't the marriage between your father and Mrs. Sorby founded upon complete confidence, upon entire and unreserved candour on both sides. They hide nothing from each other, they keep no secrets in the background; their relation is based, if I may put it so, on mutual confession and absolution.
Gregers. Well, what then?
Hialmar.
Well, is not that the whole thing? Did you not yourself say that this was precisely the difficulty that had to be overcome in order to found a true marriage ?
Gregers.
But this is a totally different matter, Hialmar. You surely don't compare either yourself or your wife with those two ? Oh, you understand me well enough.
Hialmar.
Say what you like, there is something in all this that hurts and offends my sense of justice. It really looks as if there were no just providence to rule the world.
190 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
GlNA. Oh no, Ekdal; for God's sake don't say such things.
» Gregers.
\Hm; don't let us get upon those questions.
I
HlALMAR.
And yet, after all, I cannot but recognise the guiding finger of fate. He is going blind.
Gina. Oh, you can't be sure of that.
HlALMAR.
Gregers. I fear he has hoodwinked many.
HlALMAR.
And now comes inexorable, mysterious Fate, and demands Werle's own eyes.
Gina.
Oh, how dare you say such dreadful things! You make me quite scared.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 191
^ HlALMAR.
It is profitable, now and then, to plunge deep into the night side of existence.
[Hedvig, in her hat and cloak, comes in by the passage door. She is pleasurably excited, and out of breath.']
Gina. Are you back already?
Hedvig.
Yes, I didn't care to go any farther. It was a good thing, too; for I've just met some one at the door.
Hialmar. It must have been that Mrs. Sorby.
Hedvig.
Yes.
Hialmar.
[ Walks tip and down.] I hope you have seen her for the last time.
[Silence. Hedvig, discouraged, looks first at one and then at the other, trying to divine their frame of mind.]
Hedvig. [Approaching, coaxingly.] Father.
192 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
HlALMAR. Well— what is it, Hedvig?
Hedvig. Mrs. Sorby had something with her for me.
HlALMAR.
[Stops.] For you?
Hedvig. Yes. Something for to-morrow.
GlNA.
Bertha has always given you some little thing on your birthday.
HlALMAR.
What is it?
Hedvig.
Oh, you mustn't see it now. Mother is to give it to me to-morrow morning before I'm up.
HlALMAR.
\ What is all this hocus-pocus that I am to be kept in the dark about!
Hedvig.
[Quickly.'] Oh no, you may see it if you like. It's a big letter.
[Takes the letter out of her cloak pocket^
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 193
HlALMAR.
A letter too?
Hedvig.
Yes, it i s only a letter. The rest will come after- wards, I suppose. But fancy — a letter! I've never had a letter before. And there's " Miss " written upon it [Reads.] " Miss Hedvig Ekdal." Only fancy— that's me!
HlALMAR.
Let me see that letter.
\
Hedvig. [Hands it to him.'] There it is.
HlALMAR.
That is Mr. Werle's hand.
Gina. Are you sure of that, Ekdal?
HlALMAR.
Look for yourself.
Gina. Oh, what do / know about such-like things?
HlALMAR.
Hedvig, may I open the letter — and read it?
194 THE WILD BUCK, [Act IV.
HEDVIG. Yes, of course you may, if you want to.
Gina.
No, not to-night, Ekdal; it's to be kept till to- morrow.
Hedvig. [Softly.'] Oh, can't you let him read it! It's sure to be something good; and then father will be glad, and everything will be nice again.
HlALMAR.
I may open it then?
Hedvig. Yes do, father. I'm so anxious to know what it is-
HlALMAR.
Well and good. [Opens the letter^ takes out a paptU reads it through^ and appears bewildered.] What i s this ?
Gina.
What does it say?
Hedvig.
Oh yes, father — tell us!
HlALMAR.
Be quiet. [Reads it through again; he has turned
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 195
pah) but says with self -control :\ It is a deed of gift, Hedvig.
Hedvig.
Is it? What sort of gift am I to have?
Hialmar.
Read for yourself.
[Hedvig goes over and reads for a time by the lamp.]
Hialmar.
[Jfalf-aloud, clenching his hands.] The eyes! The eyes — and then that letter!
Hedvig.
[Leaves of reading.] Yes, but it seems to me that it's grandfather that's to have it.
Hialmar.
[Takes the letter from her.] Gina — can you under* stand this?
Gina.
I know nothing whatever about it; tell me what's the matter.
Hialmar.
Mr. Werle writes to Hedvig that her old grandfather need not trouble himself any longer with the copying, but that he can henceforth draw on the office for a hundred crowns a month — -
196 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
GREGERS.
Aha!
Hedvig. A hundred crowns, mother! I read that
Gin a. What a good thing for grandfather !
Hialmar.
a hundred crowns a month so long as he needs
it — that means, of course, so long as he lives.
Gin a. Well, so he's provided for, poor dear.
Hialmar.
But there is more to come. You didn't read that, Hedvig. Afterwards this gift is to pass on to you.
Hedvig. To me! The whole of it?
Hialmar. <-
He says that the same amount is assured to you for the whole of your life. Do you hear that, Gina?
Gina.
Yes, I hear.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 197
Hedvig.
Fancy — all that money for me! [Shakes hitn.\ Father, father, aren't you glad ?
Hialmar.
[Eluding her.] Glad! [Walks about] Oh what vistas — what perspectives open up before me ! It is Hedvig, Hedvig that he showers these benefactions upon!
Gina.
Yes, because it's Hedvig's birthday
Hedvig.
And you'll get it all the same, father ! You know quite well I shall give all the money to you and mother.
Hialmar.
To mother, yes ! There we have it.
Gregers. Hialmar, this is a trap he is setting for you.
Hialmar. Do you think it's another trap ?
Gregers.
When he was here this morning he said : Hialmar Ekdal is not the man you imagine him to be.
I9« THE WILD DUCK. . [Act IV.
HlALMAR.
Not the roan !
Gregers. That you shall see, he said.
/ HlALMAR.
He meant you should see that I would let myself be bought off !
\ Hedvig.
Oh mother, what does all this mean ?
GlNA.
Go and take off your things.
[Hedvig goes out by the kitchen door> half^ crying^
Gregers.
HlALMAR.
[S/owfy tears the paper across, lays both pieces on the tab/e, and says :] Here is my answer.
Gregers Just what I expected.
HlALMAR.
[Goes over to Gina, who stands by the stove, and says in a low voice:] Now please make a clean breast of it.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK, 199
If the connection between you and him was quite over when you — came to care for me, as you call it — why did he place us in a position to marry ?
GlNA.
I suppose he thought as he could come and go in our house.
Hialmar.
Only that? Was not he afraid of a possible contingency ?
Gina. I don't know what you mean.
Hialmar.
I want to know whether — your child has the right to live under my roof.
Gina.
[Draws herself up; her eyes flashy You ask that !
Hialmar.
. You shall answer me this one question : Does Hedvig belong to me — or ? Well !
Gina.
[Looking at him with cold defiance.] I don't know. I
Hialmar. [Quivering a little.] You don't know !
\
200 THE WILD DUCK, [Act IV.
GlNA.
How should / know ? A creature like m e
Hialmar.
[Quietly % turning away from her.] Then I have nothing more to do in this house.
Gregers. Take care, Hialmar ! Think what you are doing !
Hialmar.
[Puts on his overcoat.] In this case, there is nothing for a man like me to think twice about.
Gregers.
Yes indeed, there are endless things to be con- sidered. You three must be together if you are to ^ attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrifice and forgiveness.
Hialmar.
\ Takes his hat.] My home has fallen in ruins about me. [Bursts into tears.] Gregers, I have no child !
Hedvig.
[Who has opened the kitchen door.] What is that you're saying? [Coming to him.] Father, father !
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 20t
Gina.
There, you see !
Hialmar.
Don't come near me, Hedvig ! Keep far away. I cannot bear to see you. Oh! those eyes ! Good- bye. [Makes for the door.']
Hedvig.
[Clinging close to him and screaming loudly,] No! no ! Don't leave me !
Gina.
[Cries out.] Look at the child, Ekdal! Look at the child!
Hialmar. '
I will not ! I cannot ! I must get out — away from all this !
[He tears himself away from Hedvig, and goes out by the passage door.]
Hedvig.
[ With despairing eyes.] He is going away from us, j mother ! He is going away from us ! He will never come back again !
Gina.
Don't cry, Hedvig. Father's sure to come back again.
Hedvig.
[Throws herself sobbing on the sofa.] No, no, he'll never come home to us any more,
202 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Gregers. Do you believe I meant all for the best, Mrs. Ekdal?
GlNA.
Yes, I daresay you did; but God forgive you, all the same.
Hedvig.
[Lying on the sofa.] Oh, this will kill me! What have I done to him? Mother, you must fetch him home again !
Gixa.
Yes yes yes; Only be quiet, and I'll go out and look for him. [Puts on her outdoor things,] Perhaps he's gone in to Relling's. But you mustn't lie there and cry. Promise me!
Hedvig.
[ Weeping convulsively.] Yes, I'll stop, I'll stop ; if only father comes back !
Gregers.
[To Gin a, who is going.] After all, had you not better leave him to fight out his bitter fight to the end?
Gina.
Oh, he can do that afterwards. First of all, we must get the child quieted.
[Goes out by the passage door.]
\ct IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 203
Hedvig.
[Sits up and dries her tears, ,] Now you must tell me what all this means. Why doesn't father want me iny more?
Gregers.
You mustn't ask that till you are a big girl — quite grown-up.
Hedvig.
[&?A?.] But I can't go on being as miserable as this till I am grown-up. — I- think I know what it is. — Perhaps I'm not really father's child.
Gregers. [ Uneasily.] How could that be ?
Hedvig.
Mother might have found me. And perhaps father has just got to know it ; I've read of such things.
Gregers. Well, but if it were so
Hedvig.
I think he might be just as fond of me for all that. Yes, fonder almost. We got the wild duck in a present, you know, and I love it so dearly all the same.
Gregers. [Turning the conversation.} Ah, the wild duck, by-
/
204 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
the-bye! Ijct us talk about the wild duck a little, Hedvig.
Hedvig.
The poor wild duck ! He doesn't want to see it any more either. Only think, he wanted to wring its neck !
Gregers. Oh, he won't do that.
Hedvig.
No; but he said he would like to. And I think it was horrid of father to say it; for I pray for the wild duck every night, and ask that it may be preserved from death and all that is evil.
Gregers.
[Looking at her,] Do you say your prayers every night ?
Hedvig. Yes.
Gregers. Who taught you to do that ?
Hedvig.
I myself; one time when father was very ill, and had leeches on his neck, and said that death was staring him in the face,
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 205
Gregers.
Well?
Hedvig.
Then I prayed for him as I lay in bed; and since then I have always kept it up.
Gregers. And now you pray for the wild duck too ?
Hedvig.
I thought it was best to bring in the wild duck; for she was so weakly at first.
Gregers. Do you pray in the morning, too ?
Hedvig. No, of course not.
Gregers. Why not in the morning as well ?
It
HEDVIG.
In the morning it's light, you know, and there's I j (thing in particular to be afraid of. J \
Gregers.
And your father was going to wring the neck of the wild duck that you love so dearly ?
206 THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
Hedvig.
No; he said he ought to wring its neck, but he would spare it for my sake; and that was kind of father.
Gregers.
[Coming a little nearer. .] But suppose you were to sacrifice the wild duck of your own free will, for his \ sake?
Hedvig.
[Rising.] The wild duck !
,, Gregers.
|i Suppose you were to make a free-will offering, for his sake, of the dearest treasure you have in the world !
Hedvig.
Do you think that would do any good ?
Gregers. Try it, Hedvig.
Hedvig. [Softly, with flashing eyes.] Yes, I will try it.
Gregers. Have you really the courage for it, do you think ?
Hedvig. Til ask grandfather to shoot the wild duck for me.
Act IV.] THE WILD DUCK. 2tvj
Gregers.
' Yes, do. But not a word to your mother about it !
i
J Hedvig.
f Why not ?
Gregers. She doesn't understand us.
J Hedvig.
, The wild duck ! I'll try it to-morrow morning ! [Gina comes in by the passage door.]
Hedvig. [Going towards her.] Did you find him, mother ?
Gina.
No, but I heard as he had called and taken Relling with him.
Gregers. Are you sure of that ?
Gina. Yes, the porter's wife said so. Molvik went with them too, she said.
Gregers.
This evening, when his mind so sorely needs to wrestle in solitude !
2oS THE WILD DUCK. [Act IV.
GlNA.
[Takes off her things.] Yes, men are strange creatures, so they are. The Lord only knows where Relling has dragged him to ! I ran over to Madam Eriksen's, but they weren't there.
Hedvig.
[Struggling to keep back her tears. .] Oh, if he should never come home any more !
Gregers.
He will come home again. I shall have news to give him to-morrow; and then you shall see h o w he comes home. You may rely upon that, Hedvig, and sleep in peace. Good-night.
[He goes out by the passage door.]
Hedvig.
[Throws herself sobbing on Gina's neck.] Mother, mother!
Gina.
[Fats her shoulder and sighs .] Ah yes; Relling was right, he was. That's what comes of it when crazy creatures go about presenting the claims of the — what-you-may-call-it.
[Hialmar Ekdal's studio. Cold, grey, morning light Wet snow lies upon the large panes of the sloping roofwindo?v.]
[Gina comes from tht kitchen with an apron and bid on, and carrying a dusting-brush and a duster; she goes towards the sitting-room door. At the same moment Hedvig comes hurriedly in from the passage.}
Gina. [Stops.] Well?
Hedvig.
Oh, mother, I almost think he's down at Relling's
Gina. There, you see !
Hedvig.
because the porter's wife says she could hear
that Relling had two people with him when he came home last night.
Gina.
That's just what I thought.
2io THE WILD DUCK. [ActV.
Hedvig.
But it's no use his being there, if he won't come up to us.
Gina. I'll go down and speak to him, at all events.
[Old Ekdal, in dressing-gown and slipper^ and with a lighted pipe, appears at th& door of his room.]
Ekdal. Hialmar Isn't Hialmar at home ?
Gina.
No, he's gone out.
Ekdal.
So early? And in such a tearing snowstorm? Well well; just as he pleases; I can take my morning walk alone.
[He slides the garret door aside; Hedvig helps him; he goes in; she closes it after him.]
Hedvig.
[In an undertone.] Only think, mother, when poor grandfather hears that father is going to leave us.
Gina.
Oh nonsense; grandfather mustn't hear anything about it. It was a heaven's mercy he wasn't at home yesterday in all that hurly-burly.
Hedvig. Yes, but
[Gregers comes in by the passage door.]
Gregers. Well, have you any news of him?
Gina. They say he's down at Relling's.
Gregers.
At Relling's ! Has he really been out with those creatures ?
Gina.
Yes, like enough.
Gregers.
When he ought to have been yearning for solitude, w to collect and clear his thoughts
Gina.
Yes, you may well say so.
[Relling enters from the passage!]
Hedvig. [Going to him.] Is father in your room ?
Gina. [At the same time.] Is he there ?
212 THE WILD DUCK. [AcrY.
Relling. Yes, to be sure he is.
Hedvig. And you never let us know !
Relling.
Yes; I'm a brute. But in the first place I had to look after the other brute; I mean our daemonic friend, of course; and then I fell so dead asleep that
Gina.
What does Ekdal say to-day ?
Relling. He says nothing whatever.
Hedvig. Doesn't he speak ?
Relling. Not a blessed word.
Gregers. No no; I can understand that very well.
Gina.
But what's he doing then ?
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 213
Relling. He's lying on the sofa, snoring.
GlNA.
Oh is he ? Yes, EkdaPs a rare one to snore.
Hedvig. Asleep ? Can he sleep ?
Relling. Well, it certainly looks like it.
Gregers.
No wonder, after the spiritual conflict that has rent him
Gina.
And then he's never been used to roving about out of doors at night.
Hedvig.
Perhaps it's a good thing that he's getting some sleep, mother.
Gina.
Of course it is; and we must take care we don't wake him up too early. Thank you, Relling. I must
get the house cleaned up a bit now, and then
Come and help me, Hedvig.
[Gina and Hedvig go into the sitting-room.]
2i 4 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
GREGrifcs.
\Turning to Relling.] What is your explanation of the spiritual tumult that is now going on in Hialmar Ekdal ?
Relling.
Devil a bit of a spiritual tumult have / noticed in ^him.
Gregers.
What ! Not at such a crisis, when his whole life has
been placed on a new foundation ? How can
you think that such an individuality as Hialmar's ?
Relling. Oh, individuality — he! If he ever had any ^ tendency to the abnormal de velopment.* y n " Sl^\ i ndividuality , I can assure you it was rooted out of him while he was still in his teens.
Gregers.
That would be strange indeed, — considering the loving care with which he was brought up.
Relling.
By those two high-flown, hysterical jii&iden aunts, you mean? ~ "
Gregers.
Let me tell you that they were women who never forgot the claim of the ideal — but of course you will only jeer at me again.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 215
RELLING.
No, I'm in no humour for that. I know all about those ladies ; for he has ladled out no end of rhetoric I . on the subject of his "two soul-mothers." But I Un| don't think he has much to thank them for. Ekdal's I ' misfortune is that in his own circle he has always been looked upon as a shining light
Gregers. .
Not without reason, surely. Look at the depth of \ his mind !
Relling.
/have never discovered it. That his father believed in it I don't so much wonder ; the old lieutenant has been an ass all his days.
Gregers.
He has had a childlike mind all his days; that is what you cannot understand.
Relling.
Well, so be it. But then, when our dear, sweet Hialmar went to college, he at once passed for the great light of the future amongst his comrades too. He was handsome, the rascal — red and white — a shop- girl's dream of manly beauty; and with his superficially emotional temperament, and his sympathetic voice, and his talent for declaiming other people's verses and other people's thoughts
216 THE WILD DUCK. [ActV.
Gregers.
[Indignantly.] Is it Hialmar Ekdal you are talking about in this strain ?
Relling.
! Yes, with your permission ; I am simply giving you an inside view of the idol you are grovelling before.
Gregers.
I should hardly have thought I was quite stone blind.
Relling.
Yes you are — or not far from it. You are a sick man, too, you see.
Gregers.
You're right there.
Relling.
Yes. Yours is a complicated case. First of all there is that plaguing integrity-fever; and then — what's worse — you are always in a delirium of hero-worship ; you must always have something to adore, outside yourself.
Gregers.
Yes, I must certainly seek it outside myself.
Relling.
But you make such shocking mistakes about every new phoenix you think you have discovered. Here again you have come to a cotter's cabin with your
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 217
claim of the ideal; and the people of the house are insolvent.
Gregers.
If you don't think better than that of Hialmar Ekdal, what pleasure can you find in being everlast- ingly with him ?
Relling.
Well, you see, I'm supposed to be a sort of a doctor — save the mark ! I can't but give a hand to the poor sick folk who live under the same roof with me.
Gregers. Oh, indeed ! Hialmar Ekdal is sick too, is he ! I
Relling. Most people are, worse luck.
Gregers.
And what remedy are you applying in Hialmar's case?
/
Relling.
My usual one. I am cultivating the life-illusion 1 in him.
Gregers.
/Life — illusion ? I didn't catch what you said ?
i
1 " Livslognen," literally " the life-lie." ,
2iS THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
RELLING.
■ Yes, I said illusion. For illusion^ you know, is the stimulating principle.
Gregers.
May I ask with what illusion Hialmar is inoculated?
Relling.
No, thank you ; I don't betray professional secrets to quacksalvers. You would probably go and muddle his case still more than you have already. But my method is infallible. I have applied it to Molvik as well. I have made him " dae monic ." That's the blister I have to put on h i s n€cE
Gregers. Is lie not really daemonic then ?
Relling.
What the devil do you mean by daemonic? It's only a piece of gibberish I've invented to keep up a spark of life in him. But for that, the poor harmless creature >\ould have succumbed to self-contempt and despair many a long year ago. And then the old lieutenant ! But he has hit upon his own cure, you see.
Gregers.
Lieutenant Ekdal ? What of him ?
Relling. Just think of the old bear-hunter shutting himself
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 219
up in that dark garret to shoot rabbits ! I tell you there is not a happier sportsman in the world than that old man pottering about in there among all that rubbish. The four or five withered Christmas-trees he has saved up are the same to him as the whole great fresh Hoidal forest; the cock and the hens are big game-birds in the fir-tops ; and the rabbits that flop about the garret floor are the b£ars he has to battle with — the mighty hunter of the mountains !
Gregers.
Poor unfortunate old man ! Yes; he has indeed had to narrow the ideals of his youth.
Relling.
While I think of it, Mr. Werle, junior — don't use that foreign word: ideals. We have the excellent native word : lies. "^
Gregers.
Do you think the two things are related ?
Relling.
Yes, just about as closely as typhus and putrid fever.
Gregers.
Dr. Relling, I shall not give up the struggle until I \ iave rescued Hialmar from your clutches !
Relling. So much the worse for him. Rob the average man
220 THE WILD DUCK, [Act V.
of his life-illusion, and you rob him of his happiness at the same stroke. [To Hedvig, who comes in from the sitting-room.'] Well, little wild-duck-mother, I'm just going down to see whether papa is still lying meditating upon that wonderful invention of his.
[Goes out by the passage door.]
Gregers.
[Approaches Hedvig.] I can see by your face that you have not yet done it.
Hedvig. What ? Oh, that about the wild duck. No.
Gregers. I suppose your courage failed when the time came.
Hedvig.
No, that wasn't it. But when I awoke this morning and remembered what we had been talking about, it seemed so strange.
Gregers.
Strange?
.. Hedvig.
. *" " Yes, I don't know . Yesterday evening, at the
S /moment, I thought there was something so delightful [ about it; but since I have slept and thought of it \ again, it somehow doesn't seem worth while.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 221
Gregers.
Ah, I thought you could not have grown up quite unharmed in this house.
Hedvig.
I don't care about that, if only father would come up
Gregers.
Oh, if only your eyes had been opened to that which gives life its value — if you possessed the true, joyous, fearless spirit of sacrifice, you would soon see h o w he would come up to you. — But I believe in you still, Hedvig.
\He goes out by the passage door.]
[Hedvig wanders about the room for a time; she is on the point of going into the kitchen when a knock is heard at the garret door. Hedvig goes over and opens it a little; old Ekdal comes out; she pushes the door to again.]
Ekdal.
Hid, it's not much fun to take one's morning walk alone.
Hedvig.
Wouldn't you like to go shooting, grandfather?
Ekdal.
It's not the weather for it to-day. It's so dark there, you can scarcely see where you're going.
222 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
Hedvig.
Do you never want to shoot anything besides the rabbits ?
Ekdal.
Do you think the rabbits aren't good enough ?
Hedvig. Yes, but what about the wild duck ?
Ekdal.
Ho-ho ! are you afraid I shall shoot your wild duck ? Never in the world. Never.
Hedvig.
No, I suppose you couldn't; they say it's very difficult to shoot wild ducks.
Ekdal. Couldn't ! Should rather think I could.
Hedvig.
How would you set about it, grandfather? — I don't mean with m y wild duck, but with others ?
Ekdal.
I should take care to shoot them in the breast, you 1 know; that's the surest place. And then you must shoot against the feathers, you see — not the way of the \ feathers.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK, *2$
Hedvig. Do they die then, grandfather ?
Ekdal.
Yes, they die right enough — when you shoot properly. Well, I must go and brush up a bit. Hm, — understand — hm.
[Goes into his room.]
[Hedvig waits a little, glances towards the sitting-room door, goes over to the bookcase, stands on tip-toe, takes the double-barrelled pistol doivn from the shelf, and looks at it. Gin a, with brush and duster, comes from the sitting-room. Hedvig hastily lays down the pistol, unobserved.]
Gina. Don't stand raking amongst father's thing?, Hedvig.
Hedvig.
[Goes away from the bookcase.] T was only going to tidy up a little.
Gina.
You'd better go into the kitchen, and see if the coffee's keeping hot; I'll take his breakfast on a tray, when I go down to him.
[Hedvig goes out. Gina begins to sweep and clean up the studio. Presently the passage door is opened with hesitation, and Hialmah
224 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
Ekdal looks in. He has on his overcoat, but not his hat; he is unwashed, and his hair is dishevelled and unkempt. His eyes are dull and heavy.]
GlNA.
[Standing with the brush in her hand, and looking at him.] Oh, there now, Ekdal — so you've come after all?
HlALMAR.
[ Comes in and ansivers in a toneless voice. ] I come — only to depart again immediately.
Gina.
Yes yes, I suppose so. But, Lord help us ! what a sight you are !
HlALMAR.
A sight ?
Gina.
And your nice winter coat too ! Well, that's done for.
Hedvig.
[At the kitchen door.] Mother, hadn't I better ?
/ [Sees Hialmar, gives a loud scream of joy, and runs to | him.] Oh father, father !
HlALMAR.
• [Turns away and makes a gesture of repulsion.]
/
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 225
Away, away, away ! [To Gina.] Keep her away from me, I say !
Gina.
[In a low lone.] Go into the sitting-room, Hedvig. [Hedvig does so without a word.]
HlALMAR.
[Fussily pulls out the table-drawer.] I must have my books with me. Where are my books?
Gina. Which books ?
HlALMAR.
My scientific books, of course; the technical magazines I require for my invention.
Gina.
[Searches in the bookcase.] Is it these here paper- covered ones ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, of course.
Gina.
[Lays a heap of magazines on the tabled] Shan't I get Hedvig to cut them for you ?
HlALMAR.
I don't require to have them cut for me. [Short silence \
\
226 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
GlNA. Then you're still set on leaving us, Ekdal ?
Hialmar.
\Rummaging amongst the books .] Yes, that's a matter of course, I should think.
Gina. Well, well.
Hialmar.
[Vehemently.] How can I live here, to be stabbed to the heart every hour of the day?
Gina. God forgive you for thinking such vile things of me.
Hialmar.
Prove !
Gina. I think it's you that have got to prove.
Hialmar.
After a past like yours ? There are certain claims — I may almost call them claims of the ideal
Gina.
But what about grandfather? What's to become of him, poor dear?
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK, 227
HlALMAR.
I know my duty; my helpless father will come with me. I am going out into ihe town to make arrange- ments . Hm — [hesitatingly] has any one found
my hat on the stairs ?
Gina.
No. Have you lost your hat ?
Hialmar.
Of course I had it on when I came in last night; there's no doubt about that; but I couldn't find it this morning.
Gina.
Lord help us ! where have you been to with those two ne'er-do-weels ?
Hialmar.
Oh, don't bother me about trifles. Do you suppose I am in the mood to remember details ?
Gina. If only you haven't caught cold, Ekdal. [Goes out into the kitchen .]
Hialmar.
[ Talks to himself in a Imv tone of irritation *, whilst he empties the table-drawer^ You're a scoundrel, Relling 1 — You're a low fellow !— Ah, you shameless
16
228 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
tempter ! — I wish I could get some one to stick a
knife into you !
[He lays some old letters on one side, finds the torn document of yesterdays takes it up and looks at the pieces; puts it down hurriedly as Gina enters.]
Gin a.
[Sets a tray with coffee, etc., on the table.] Here's a drop of something hot, if you'd fancy it. And there's some bread and butter and a snack of salt meat.
Hialmar.
[Glancing at the tray.] Salt meat? Never under this roof! It's true I have not had a mouthful of solid food for nearly twenty-four hours; but no matter. — ^My memoranda! The commencement of my auto- biography ! What has become of my diary, and all my important papers? [Opens the sitting-room door, but draws back.] She is there too !
Gina. Good Lord ! the child must be somewhere!
Hialmar. Come out.
[He makes room, Hedvig comes, scared, into the studio.]
Hialmar. [ With his hand upon the doorhandle, says to Gina:]
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 229
/.In these, the last moments I spend in my former / home, I wish to be spared from interlopers
[Goes into the room.]
Hedvig.
[With a bound towards her mother, asks softly, trembling.] Does that mean me ?
Gina.
Stay out in the kitchen, Hedvig; or, no — you'd best go into your own room. [Speaks to Hialmar as she goes in to him.] Wait a bit, Ekdal; don't rummage so in the drawers; /know where everything is.
V :1 - Hedvig.
[Stands a moment immovable, in terror and perplexity, Siting her lips to keep back the tears; then she clenches \her hands convulsively, and says softly:] The wild /duck !
[She steals over and takes the pistol from the shelf, opens the garret door a little way, creeps in, and draws the door to after her.] [Hialmar and Gina can be heard disputing in the sitting-room.]
Hialmar.
[Comes in with some manuscript books and old loose papers, which he lays upon the table.] That portmanteau is of no use ! There are a thousand and one things I must drag with me.
230 THE WILD DUCK. [Acr V.
GlNA. [Follmving with the portmanteau.] Why not leave all the rest for the present, and only take a shirt and a pair of woollen drawers with you ?
Hialmar.
Whew ! — all these exhausting preparations !
[ Pulls off his overcoat and throws it upon the sofa.]
GlNA.
And there's the coffee getting cold.
Hialmar.
H m. [Drinks a mouthful without thinking of it, and then another.]
GlNA.
[Dusting the backs of the chairs.] A nice job you'll have to find such another big garret for the rabbits.
Hialmar. What ! Am I to drag all those rabbits with me too ?
GlNA.
You don't suppose grandfather can get on without his rabbits.
Hialmar. He must just get used to doing without them. Have
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 231
not / to sacrifice very much greater things than rabbits !
Gina.
[Dusting the bookcase.] Shall I put the flute in the portmanteau for you ?
. Hialmar. No. No flute for me. But give me the pistol !
Gina.
Do you want to take the pigstol with you ?
Hialmar. Yes. My loaded pistol.
Gina.
[Searching for it.] It's gone. He must have taken it in with him.
Hialmar.
Is he in the garret ?
Gina. Yes, of course he's in the garret.
Hialmar.
Hm — poor lonely old man.
[He takes a piece of bread and butter, eats it } and finishes his cup of coffee.]
232 THE WILD DUCK, [ActV.
GlNA.
If we hadn't have let that room, you could have moved in there.
Hialmar.
And continued to live under the same roof with !
Never, — never !
Gina.
But couldn't you put up with the sitting-room for a day or two ? You could have it all to yourself.
Hialmar. Never within these walls !
Gina.
Well then, down with Relling and Molvik.
Hialmar.
Don't mention those wretches' names to me ! The very thought of them almost takes away my appetite.— Oh no, I must go out into the storm and the snow- drift, —go from house to house and seek shelter for my father and myself.
Gina.
But you've got no hat, Ekdal ! You've been and lost your hat, you know.
Hialmar.
Oh those two brutes, those slaves of all the vices ! A hat must be procured. [Takes another piece of
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK, 233
bread and butter.] Some arrangement must be made. For I have no mind to throw away my life, either. [Looks for something on the tray.]
GlNA.
What are you looking for?
HlALMAR.
Butter.
Gin a.
I'll get some at once. [Goes out into the kitchen .]
Hialmar. .
[Calls after her.] Oh it doesn't matter; dry bread ^ is good enough for m e.
Gin a.
[Brings a dish of falter.] Look here; this is fresh churned.
[She pours out another cup of coffee for him; he seats himself on the sofa t spreads more butter on the already buttered breads and eats and drinks a while in silence.]
Hialmar.
Could I, without being subject to intrusion — intrusion of a n y sort — could I live in the sitting- room there for a day or two ?
Gina. Yes, to be sure you could, if you only would.
*U THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
HlALXAR.
For I see no possibility of getting all father's things oa: in such a hurry.
Gixa. .
And besides, you've surely got to tell him first as you don't mean to live with us others no more.
Hialmar.
[ Pushes otto} his coffc* cup\ Yes, there is that too; I shall have to lay bare the whole tangled story to
him- . I must turn matters over; I must have
breathing-time; I cannot take all these burdens on my shoulders in a single day.
Gixa.
No, especially in such horrible weather as it is outside.
Hialmar.
[Touching Werle's letter.] I see that paper is still lying about here.
Gixa.
Yes, / haven't touched it.
Hialmar. So far as I am concerned it is mere waste paper
Gixa. Well, / have certainly no notion of making any use of it.
Act V.] 7 HE WILD DUCK. 235
HlALMAR.
but we had better not let it get lost all the
same; — in all the upset when I move, it might
easily
Gina.
I'll take good care of it, Ekdal. J
HlALMAR.
The donation is in the first instance made to father, and it rests with him to accept or decline it.
Gina. [S/#fo.] Yes, poor old father
HlALMAR.
To make quite safe Where shall I find some
gum?
Gina.
[Goes to the bookcase^] Here's the gum-pot.
HlALMAR.
And a brush ?
Gina. The brush is here too.
[Brings him the things.']
HlALMAR.
[Takes a pair of scissors.] Just a strip of paper at
236 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
the back [Clips and gums]. Far be it from me to
lay hands upon what is not my own — and least of all upon what belongs to a destitute old man — and to— the other as well. — There now. Let it lie there for a time; and when it is dry, take it away. I wish never to see that document again. Never !
[Gregers Werle enters from tJie passa°t ]
Gregers.
[ Somewhat surprised. ] What, — are you si tt ing here, Hialmar ?
Hialmar. [Rises hurriedly.} I had sunk down from fatigue.
Gregers. You have been having breakfast, I see.
Hialmar. The body sometimes makes its claims felt too. I
Gregers. What have you decided to do ?
Hialmar.
For a man like me, there is only one course possible. I am just putting my most important things together. But it takes time, you know.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK, 237
GlNA.
[With a touch of impatience, \ Am I to get the room ready for you, or am I to pack your portmanteau?
Hialmar.
[After a glance of annoyance at Gregers.] Pack — and get the room ready !
Gina.
[Takes the portmanteau,'] Very well; then I'll put in the shirt and the other things.
[Goes into the sitting-room and draws the door to after her.]
Gregers.
[After a short si/ence,] I never dreamed that this would be the end of it. Do you really feel it a necessity to leave house and home?
Hialmar.
[Wanders about restlessly,] What would you have /me do? — I am not fitted to bear unhappiness, Gregers. I must feel secure and at peace in my surroundings.
Gregers.
But can you not feel that here? Just try it. It seems to me you have firm ground to build upon now — if only you start afresh. And remember, you have your invention to live for.
238 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
HlALMAR.
Oh don't talk about my invention. It's perhaps still in the dim distance.
Gregers. Indeed !
HlALMAR.
Why, great heavens, what would you have me invent? Other people have invented almost every- thing already. It becomes more and more difficult every day
Gregers. And you have devoted so much labour to it.
HlALMAR.
It was that blackguard Relling that urged me to it.
Gregers. Relling?
HlALMAR.
Yes, it was he that first made me realise my aptitude for making some notable discovery in photo- graphy.
Gregers.
Aha — it was Relling !
HlALMAR.
Oh, I have been so truly happy over it ! Not so
Ac I V.] THE WILD DUCK, 239
much for the sake of the invention itself, as because Hedvig believed in it — believed in it with a child's whole eagerness of faith. — At least, I have been fool enough to go and imagine that she believed in it.
Gregers.
Can you really think that Hedvig has been false towards you ?
Hialmar.
\ I can think anything now. It is Hedvig that stands Iln my way. She will blot out the sunlight from my / Whole life.
Gregers.
Q Hedvig! Is it Hedvig you are talking of? How 'should she blot out your sunlight ?
Hialmar.
/ [ Without answering.] How unutterably I have /loved that child ! How unutterably happy I have felt ( every time I came home to my humble room, and she 1 flew to meet me, with her sweet little blinking eyes. / Oh, confiding fool that I have been ! I loved her unutterably; — and I yielded myself up to the dream, the delusion, that she loved me unutterably in return.
Gregers. / Do you call t h a t a delusion ?
Hialmar. L How should I know? I can get nothing out of ftjina; and besides, she is totally blind to the ideal side
240 THE WILD DUCK, [Act V.
of these complications. But to you I feel impelled to open my mind, Gregers. I cannot shake off this frightful doubt — perhaps Hedvig has never really and honestly loved me.
Gregers.
What would you say if she were to give you a proof of her love? [Listens.] What's that? I thought I heard the wild duck ?
Hialmar. It's the wild duck quacking. Father's in the garret.
Gregers.
Is he? [His face lights up with joy.] I say you may yet have proof that your poor misunderstood Hedvig loves you !
Hialmar.
Oh, what proof can she give me? I dare not believe in any assurances from that quarter.
Gregers. Hedvig does not know what deceit means.
Hialmar.
Oh Gregers, that is just what I cannot be sure of. Who knows what Gina and that Mrs. Sorby may many a time have sat here whispering and tattling about? And Hedvig usually has her ears open, I can tell you. Perhaps the deed of gift was not such a surprise to her,
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 241
after all. In fact, I'm not sure but that I noticed something of the sort.
Gregers. What spirit is this that has taken possession of you ?
Hialmar.
I have had my eyes opened. Just you notice; — you'll see, the deed of gift is only a beginning. Mrs. Sorby has always been a good deal taken up with Hedvig; and now she has the power to do whatever she likes for the child. They can take her from me whenever they please.
Gregers. Hedvig will never, never leave you.
Hialmar.
Don't be so sure of that. If only they beckon to
her and throw out a golden bait ! And oh ! I
have loved her so unspeakably ! I would have counted it my highest happiness to take her tenderly by the hand and lead her, as one leads a timid child through a great dark empty room ! — I am cruelly I certain now that the poor photographer in his humble attic has never really and truly been anything to her. She has only cunningly contrived to keep on a good | footing with him until the time came.
Gregers. You don't believe that yourself, Hialmar.
242 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
HlALMAR.
That is just the terrible part of it — I don't know what to believe, — I never can know it. But can you really doubt that it must be as I say? Ho-ho, you have far too much faith in the claim of the ideal, my good Gregers! If those others came, with the glamour of wealth about them, and called to the child: — " Leave him: come to us: here life awaits you" !
Gregers. {Quickly .] Well, what then ?
HlALMAR.
I If I then asked her: Hedvig, are you willing to ," renounce that life for me? [Laughs scornfully. \ No | thank you ! You would soon hear what answer I should get.
[A pistol slwt is heard from zvithin the garret.}
^ Gregers.
[Loudly and joyfully.] Hialmar !
HlALMAR.
There now; he must needs go shooting too.
Gina. [Comes in.] Oh Ekdal, I can hear grandfather blazing away in the garret by himself.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK, 243
HlALMAR.
I'll look in
Gregers.
[Eagerly, with emotion.] Wait a moment ! Do you know what that was ?
HlALMAR.
Yes, of course I know.
Gregers.
No you don't know. But / do. That was the proof !
HlALMAR.
What proof?
Gregers.
It was a child's free-will offering. She has got your father to shoot the wild duck.
HlALMAR.
To shoot the wild duck !
GlNA.
Oh, think of that !
HlALMAR.
What was that for ?
Gregers. She wanted to sacrifice to you her most cherished
17
244 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
possession; for then she thought you would surely come to love her again.
Hialmar. [Tenderly y with emotion.] Oh, poor child !
Gina. What things she thinks of !
Gregers.
She only wanted your love again, Hialmar. She could not live without it.
Gina.
[Struggling with her tears.] There, you can see for yourself, Ekdal.
Hialmar.
Gina, where is she ?
Gina.
[Sniffs.] Poor dear, she's sitting out in the kitchen, I daresay.
Hialmar.
[Goes over % tears open the kitchen door, and says:] Hedvig, come, come in to me ! [Looks round.] No, she's not here.
Gina,
Then she must be in her own little room.
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 245
HlALMAR.
[Without'] No, she's not here either. [Comes in.] She must have gone out.
GlNA.
Yes, you wouldn't have her anywheres in the house.
HlALMAR.
Oh, if she would only come home quickly, so that
I can tell her Everything will come right now,
Gregers; now I believe we can begin life afresh.
Gregers.
[Quietly.] I knew it; I knew the child would make amends.
[Old EfcDAL appears at the door 0/ his room; he is in full uniform, and is busy buckling on his sword.]
HlALMAR.
[Astonished.] Father! Are you there?
Gina. Have you been firing in your room ?
Ekdal.
[Resentfully, approaching.] So you go .shooting alone, do you, Hialmar ?
HlALMAR.
[Excited and confused.] Then it wasn't you that fired that shot in the garret ?
2«t THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
EKDAL. Me tint fired? Hm.
Gregers*
[Calls ami to Hialmar.] She has shot the wild dock herself .'
Hi 41 MAP
What can it mean? [Hastens to the garret door, tears it aside, lacks in and calls loudly :\ Hedvig !
Gina. [Runs to the door.] Good God, whaf s that !
Hialmar. [Goes in.] She's lying on the floor !
Gregers. Hedvig ! lying on the floor ! [Goes in to Hialmar.]
Gina.
[At tlie same time.] Hedvig ! [Inside the garret] No, no, no !
Ekdal. Ho-ho ! does she go shooting too, now ?
[Hialmar, Gina, and Gregers carry Hedvig into the studio; in her dangling right hand she holds the pistol fast clasped in her fingers,]
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 247
HlALMAR.
[Distracted.] The pistol has gone off. She has wounded herself. Call for help ! Help !
Gina.
[Runs into the passage and calls down.] Relling ! Relling! Doctor Relling; come up as quick as you can !
[Hialmar and Gregers lay Hedvig down on the so/a.]
Ekdal. [Quietly.] The woods avenge themselves. \
Hialmar.
[On his knees beside Hedvig.] She'll soon come to now. She's coming to ; yes, yes, yes.
Gina.
[ Who has come in again.] Where has she hurt herself? I can't see anything
v [Relling comes hurriedly, and immediately after him Molvik; the latter without his waistcoat and necktie, and with his coat open.]
Relling. What's the matter here?
i 7 *
24S THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
GlNA.
They say Hedvig has shot herself.
Hialmar. Come and help us !
Relling.
Shot herself!
\He pushes the table aside and begins to examine her.]
Hialmar.
[Kneeling a?id looking anxiously up at him.] It can't be dangerous ? Speak, Relling ! She's scarcely bleeding at all. It can't be dangerous?
Relling. How did it happen?
Hialmar. Oh, we don't know !
Gin a.
She wanted to shoot the wild duck.
Relling. The wild duck ?
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 249.
HlALMAR. The pistol must have gone off.
Relling. Hm. Indeed.
Ekdal.
The woods avenge themselves. But I'm not afraid,, all the same.
[Goes into the garret and closes the door after him. ]
HlALMAR.
Well, Relling, — why don't you say something?
Relltng. The ball has entered the breast.
HlALMAR.
Yes, but she's coming to !
Relling. Surely you can see that Hedvig is dead.
GlNA.
[Bursts into tears.] Oh my child, my child I
2SO THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
n
Gregers. Huskily .] In the depths of the sea-
Hialmar.
[Jumps up.] No, no, she must live! Oh, for God's sake, Relling — only a moment — only just till I can tell her how unspeakably I loved her all the time !
Relling.
The bullet has gone through her heart. Internal hemorrhage. Death must have been instantaneous.
HlALMAR.
And I ! I hunted her from me like an animal ! And she crept terrified into the garret and died for love of me ! [Sobbing.] I can never atone to her !
I can never tell her ! [Clenches his hands and
tries, upwards. \ O thou above ! If thou, be
indeed ! Why hast thou done this thing to me ?
Gina.
Hush, hush, you mustn't go on that awful way. We had no right to keep her, I suppose.
Molvik. The child is not dead, but sleepeth.
Relling. Bosh!
X
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 251
HlALMAR.
[Becomes calm, goes over to the sofa, folds his arms, and looks at Hedvig.] There she lies so stiff and still.
Relling.
[Tries to loosen the pistol.] She's holding it so tight, so tight.
Gina.
No, no, Relling, don't break her fingers; let the pigstol be.
HlALMAR.
She shall take it with her.
Gina.
Yes, let her. But the child mustn't lie here for a show. She shall go to her own room, so she shall. Help me, Ekdal.
[Hialmar and Gina take Hedvig between them.]
Hialmar.
[As they are carrying her.] Oh Gina, Gina, can you survive this !
Gina.
We must help each other to bear it. For n o w, at least, she belongs to both of us.
252 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
MOLVIK.
[Stretc/us out his arms and mumbles .] Blessed be the Lord; to earth thou shalt return; to earth thou shalt return
Relling. [Whispers.] Hold your tongue, you fool; you're drunk.
[Hialmar and Gina carry the body out through the kitchen door. Relling shuts it after them. Molvik slinks out into the passage.]
Relling.
[Goes over to Grecers and says:] No one shall ever convince me that the pistol went off by accident.
Gregers.
[ Who has stood terrified^ with convulsive twitchings.] Who can say how the dreadful thing happened ?
Relling.
The powder has burnt the body of her dress. She must have pressed the pistol right against her breast and fired.
ft Gregers.
Hedvig has not died in vain. Did you not see how sorrow set free what is noble in him ?
i Relling.
1 Most people are ennobled by the actual presence of
Act V.] THE WILD DUCK. 253
death. But how long do you suppose this nobility ] will last in h i m ?
Gregers.
Why should it not endure and increase throughout his life ?
Relling.
Before a year is over, little Hedvig will be nothing to him but a pretty theme for declamation.
Gregers. How dare you say that of Hialmar Ekdal ?
Relling.
We will talk of this again, when the grass has first withered on her grave. Then you'll hear him spouting about "the child too early torn from her father's heart;" then you'll see him steep himself in a syrup of sentiment and self-admiration and self-pity. Just you wait !
r . Gregers. fc
If you are right and I am wrong, then life is notl worth living. I
Relling.
Oh, life would be quite tolerable, after all, if only we could be rid of the confounded duns that keep on pestering us, in our poverty, with the claim of the I ideal.
254 THE WILD DUCK. [Act V.
Gregers. /
[Looking straight before him.] In that case, I am glad that my destiny is what it is.
Relling. May I inquire, — what i s your destiny ?
Gregers. [Going.] To be the thirteenth at table.
Relling. The devil it is.
THE END.
