Chapter 22

[He takes off his overcoat;GinaandHedviggo to help him; he motions them away.

Gina.

Perhaps you’ve had dinner with Werle?

Hialmar.

[Hanging up his coat.] No.

Gina.

[Going towards 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?

Hialmar.

Well? Oh yes, well enough. We have had a tiring walk, Gregers and I.

Gina.

You didn’t ought to have gone so far,Ekdal;Ekdal;you’re not used to it.

Hialmar.

H'm; 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.

Hialmar.

No new orders?

Gina.

No, not to-day.

Hedvig.

There will be some to-morrow, father, you’ll see.

Hialmar.

I hope there will; for to-morrow I am going to set to work in real earnest.

Hedvig.

To-morrow! Don’t you remember what day it is to-morrow?

Hialmar.

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.

Gina.

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.

Hedvig.

Oh but, father, you promised that we should have a little party——

Hialmar.

H'm, true. Well then, from the day after tomorrow. I should almost like to wring that cursëd wild duck’s neck!

Hedvig.

[Shrieks.] The wild duck!

Gina.

Well I never!

Hedvig.

[Shaking him.] Oh no, father; you know it’smywild 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 throughthosehands.

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 claims 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 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.

Hialmar.

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, I'll 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.

Hialmar.

Not a feather of its head shall be touched. [Draws her to him.] You and I, Hedvig—we two——! Well, go along.

[Hedvignods to her parents and goes out through the kitchen.

Hialmar.

[Walks about without looking up.] Gina.

Gina.

Yes?

Hialmar.

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?

Hialmar.

Yes; or to check the receipts at any rate.

Gina.

Lord help us!that’ssoon 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.

Hialmar.

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.

Hialmar.

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.

Hialmar.

And he gets it from Mr. Werle.

Gina.

Oh well, he has plenty and to spare, he has.

Hialmar.

Light the lamp for me, please!

Gina.

[Lighting the lamp.] And of course we don’t know as it’s Mr. Werle himself; it may be Gråberg——

Hialmar.

Why attempt such an evasion?

Gina.

I don’t know; I only thought——

Hialmar.

H'm!

Gina.

It wasn’t me that got grandfather that copying. It was Bertha, when she used to come about us.

Hialmar.

It seems to me your voice is trembling.

Gina.

[Putting the lamp-shade on.] Is it?

Hialmar.

And your hands are shaking, are they not?

Gina.

[Firmly.] Come right out with it, Ekdal. What has he been saying about me?

Hialmar.

Is it true—canit be true that—that there was an—an understanding between you and Mr. Werle, while you were in service there?

Gina.

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.

Hialmar.

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.

Hialmar.

Well, and then?

Gina.

I suppose you’ve got to know it. He gave me no peace until he’d had his way.

Hialmar.

[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.

Hialmar.

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?

Hialmar.

How can you dream that I would?

Gina.

That’s just why I didn’t dare tell you anything, then. For I'd come to care for you so much, you see; and I couldn’t go and make myself utterly miserable——

Hialmar.

[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?

Hialmar.

[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?

Gina.

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!

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 is 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 moralof 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, that will have killed it.

Gina.

[Nearly crying.] You mustn’t say such things, Ekdal.Me, that has 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 sap 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 mydream that you should live on after me, the dead inventor’s well-to-do widow.

Gina.

[Drying her tears.] 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 Werleopens the passage door cautiously and looks in.

Gregers.

May I come in?

Hialmar.

Yes, come in.

Gregers.

[Comes forward, his face beaming with satisfaction, and holds out both his hands to them.] Well, dear friends——! [Looks from one to the other, and whispers toHialmar.] Have you not done it yet?

Hialmar.

[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?

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 deception——

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, 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.

Hialmar.

Do you think a man can so easily throw off the effects of the bitter cup I have drained?

Gregers.

No, not acommonman, perhaps. But a man likeyou——!

Hialmar.

Good God! I know that well enough. But you must keep me up to it, Gregers. It takes time, you know.

Gregers.

You havemuchof the wild duck in you, Hialmar.

Rellinghas come in at the passage door.

Relling.

Oho! is the wild duck to the fore again?

Hialmar.

Yes; Mr. Werle’s wing-broken victim.

Relling.

Mr. Werle’s——? So it’shimyou are talking about?

Hialmar.

Him and—ourselves.

Relling.

[In an undertone toGregers.] May the devil fly away with you!

Hialmar.

What is that you are saying?

Relling.

Only uttering a heartfelt wish that this quack-salver 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.

[ToGregers.] 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 Ekdal’s marriage is good enough as it is?

Gregers.

No doubt it is as good a marriage as most others, worse luck. But atruemarriage it has yet to become.

Hialmar.

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.

Hialmar.

A man’s whole moral basis may give away beneath his feet;thatis the terrible part of it.

Relling.

Well, I can’t say I've ever been exactly married, so I don’t pretend to speak with authority. But this I know, that thechildenters 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 messand 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.

Gina.

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.

[ToRelling.] But how do you account for that?

Relling.

[Sullenly.] Her constitution’s changing, sir.

Hialmar.

So long as the child hasme——! So long asIam above ground——!

A knock at the door.

Gina.

Hush, Ekdal; there’s some one in the passage. [Calls out.] Come in!

[Mrs. Sörby,in walking dress, comes in.

Mrs. Sörby.

Good evening.

Gina.

[Going towards her]. Is it really you, Bertha?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, of course it is. But I'm disturbing you, I'm afraid?

Hialmar.

No, not at all; an emissary fromthathouse——

Mrs. Sörby.

[ToGina.] 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. Sörby.

Yes, to-morrow morning,—up to Höidal. Mr. Werle started this afternoon. [Lightly toGregers.] 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. Sörby

Yes, what do you say tothat, Ekdal?

Hialmar.

I say: beware!

Gregers.

I must explain the situation. My father and Mrs. Sörby are going to be married.

Hialmar.

Going to be married!

Gina.

Oh Bertha! So it’s come to that at last!

Relling.

[His voice quivering a little.] This is surely not true?

Mrs. Sörby.

Yes, my dear Relling, it’s true enough.

Relling.

You are going to marry again?

Mrs. Sörby.

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.

Then I must wish you all happiness, like a dutiful stepson.

Mrs. Sörby.

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. Sörby.

Come now, let Sörby rest in peace. He had his good points too.

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