ACT FIFTH.

Wangel.

Yes; its coming—may be your salvation.

Ellida.

[Seats herself on the sofa.] Wangel—come here and sit by me. I must tell you all my thoughts.

Wangel.

Yes do, dear Ellida.

[He seats himself on a chair at the other side of the table.

Ellida.

It was really a great misfortune—for both of us—that we two, of all people, should come together.

Wangel.

[Starts.] What do you say?

Ellida.

Oh yes it was—and it could not but be. It could lead to nothing but unhappiness—especially considering the way we came together.

Wangel.

Why, what was wrong with the way——?

Ellida.

Listen now, Wangel,—it is useless for us to go on any longer lying to ourselves—and to each other.

Wangel.

Arewe doing so? Lying do you say?

Ellida.

Yes, lying. Or at any rate—concealing the truth. The truth—the sheer unvarnished truth isthis: you came out there and—bought me.

Wangel.

Bought——Did you say—bought?

Ellida.

Oh, I was not a bit better than you. I joined in the bargain. I went and sold myself to you.

Wangel.

[Looks at her, deeply pained.] Ellida,—have you the heart to say so?

Ellida.

Why, what else can you call it? You could not bear the void in your house; you looked about for a new wife——

Wangel.

And for a new mother for the children, Ellida.

Ellida.

That too, perhaps—incidentally, as it were. Although—you did not in the least know whether I was fit to be a mother to them. You had only seen me and spoken with me once or twice. But you took a fancy to me, and so——

Wangel.

Well, you may give it what name you please.

Ellida.

And I, for my part——. There was I, helpless and forlorn, and utterly alone. What more natural than that I should accept the bargain—when you came and offered to maintain me all my life.

Wangel.

I assure you I did not think of it in that light,my dear Ellida. I asked you honestly if you would share with me and the children the little I could call my own.

Ellida.

Yes, you did. But, little or much, I ought not to have accepted! I should never have accepted at any price! I should never have sold myself! Better the meanest labour—better the deepest poverty—of my own free will—by my own choice!

Wangel.

[Rising.] Then have the five or six years we have lived together been utterly wasted for you?

Ellida.

Oh, you must not think that, Wangel! I have had all from you that any one could possibly desire. But I did not come into your home of my own free will,—that is the thing.

Wangel.

[Looks at her.] Not of your free will?

Ellida.

No; it was not of my own free will that I cast in my lot with yours.

Wangel.

[Softly.] Ah, I remember—the phrase he used yesterday.

Ellida.

The whole secret lies in that phrase. It has thrown a new light on things for me; so that I see it all now.

Wangel.

What do you see?

Ellida.

I see that the life we two lead with each other—is really no marriage at all.

Wangel.

[Bitterly.] There you are right. The life wenowlead is no marriage at all.

Ellida.

Nor the life we led before; never; not from the outset. [Looks straight before her.] The first—thatmight have been a real and true marriage.

Wangel.

The first? What “first” do you mean?

Ellida.

Mine,—withhim.

Wangel.

[Looks at her in astonishment.] I cannot understand you at all!

Ellida.

Oh my dear Wangel,—do not let us lie to each other; nor to ourselves.

Wangel.

No, of course not! But what then?

Ellida.

Why, don’t you see—we can never get away from this—that a voluntary promise is to the full as binding as a marriage.

Wangel.

Why, what in the world——!

Ellida.

[Rises impetuously.] Let me leave you, Wangel!

Wangel.

Ellida——! Ellida——!

Ellida.

Yes, yes—you must let me! I can assure you there will be nothing else for it in the end—after the way we two came together.

Wangel.

[Controlling his emotion.] So it has come to this!

Ellida.

It had to come to this; no other end was possible.

Wangel.

[Looks sorrowfully at her.] So even in our daily life together I have not won you. You have never, never been wholly mine.

Ellida.

Oh Wangel—if only I could love you as I gladly would! As tenderly as you deserve! But I feel quite clearly—it will never be.

Wangel.

A divorce then? It is a divorce,—a formal, legal divorce,—that you want?

Ellida.

My dear, you do not understand me at all. It is not the forms that I care about. These external things seem to me to matter nothing. What I wishis that we two should agree, of our own free will, to release each other.

Wangel.

[Bitterly, nods slowly.] To cancel the bargain,—yes.

Ellida.

[Eagerly.] Precisely! To cancel the bargain.

Wangel.

And after that, Ellida? Afterwards? Have you thought of the outlook for both of us? What shape will our lives take—both yours and mine?

Ellida.

We must not let that influence us. The future must shape itself as best it can. This that I am begging of you, Wangel,—this is the chief thing! Set me free! Give me back my full freedom.

Wangel.

Ellida—this is a terrible demand you make upon me. Let me at least have time to collect myself and come to a resolve. Let us discuss the matter more thoroughly. And do you, too, give yourself time to reflect what you are doing!

Ellida.

But there is no time to waste on all that. You must give me back my freedom this veryday.day.

Wangel.

Why to-day?

Ellida.

Because it is to-night that he is coming.

Wangel.

[Starts.] Coming! He! What has the stranger to do with this?

Ellida.

I want to meet him in full freedom.

Wangel.

And what—what do you intend to do then?

Ellida.

I do not want to take refuge in the plea that I am another man’s wife—or that I have no choice left me. For then my decision would decide nothing.

Wangel.

You talk of choice! Choice, Ellida! Choice in this matter!

Ellida.

Yes, choose I must—freely choose either course. I must be free to let him go away alone—or—to go with him.

Wangel.

Do you understand what you are saying? Go with him! Place your whole fate in his hands!

Ellida.

Did I not place my whole fate inyourhands? And that—without thinking twice.

Wangel.

That may be. But he! He! A total stranger! A man you know so little about!

Ellida.

I knew perhaps even less of you; and yet I went with you.

Wangel.

At least you knew pretty well what kind of life you were entering upon. But now? Now? Reflect! What do you know now? Nothing whatever: not even who he is—or what he is.

Ellida.

[Looking straight before her.] That is true. But that is just the terrible thing.

Wangel.

Yes, terrible indeed——

Ellida.

And that is why I feel as if Imustgive way to it.

Wangel.

[Looks at her.] Because it seems to you terrible?

Ellida.

Yes, just because of that.

Wangel.

[Nearer.] Tell me, Ellida—what do you really mean by “terrible”?

Ellida.

[Reflects.] I call a thing terrible—when it both frightens and fascinates me.

Wangel.

Fascinates?

Ellida.

Most of all when it fascinates me—I think.

Wangel.

[Slowly.] You are akin to the sea.

Ellida.

There is terror in that too.

Wangel.

And in yourself no less. You both frighten and fascinate.[21]

Ellida.

Do you think so, Wangel?

Wangel.

I see that I have never really known you; never thoroughly. I am beginning to understand that now.

Ellida.

And therefore you must set me free! Loose me from every tie to you and yours! I am not the woman you took me for; you see that now yourself. Now we can part in mutual understanding—and of our own free will.

Wangel.

[Gloomily.] It would perhaps be best for us both—to part. But for all that, Icannot! To me itis you that are “terrible,” Ellida. And fascinating—that you are above all things.

Ellida.

Do you say so?

Wangel.

Let us try to get through this day with no false step—to act calmly and collectedly. Icannotrelease you and let you go to-day. I must not—for your own sake, Ellida. I assert my right and my duty to protect you.

Ellida.

Protect? What is there to protect me against? It is not any outward force or violence that threatens me. The terrible thing lies deeper, Wangel! The terrible thing is—the fascination I feel in my own mind; and what can you do against that?

Wangel.

I can strengthen and support you in resisting it.

Ellida.

Yes—if I had thewillto resist it.

Wangel.

Have you not the will?

Ellida.

Oh, that is just what I don’t know!

Wangel.

To-night all will be decided, dear Ellida——

Ellida.

[Breaks out.] Yes, think of it——! The decision so near! The decision for all time!

Wangel.

——and then to-morrow——

Ellida.

Yes, to-morrow! Perhaps I shall have forfeited my true future!

Wangel.

Your true——?

Ellida.

A whole, full life of freedom forfeited—forfeited for me! And perhaps—for him too.

Wangel.

[In a lower tone, seizing her by the wrist.] Ellida,—do you love this stranger?

Ellida.

Do I——? Oh how can I tell! I only know that to me he is terrible, and that——

Wangel.

——and that——?

Ellida.

[Tears herself away.]——and that I feel as though my place were with him.

Wangel.

[Bows his head.] I begin to understand.

Ellida.

And what help, what remedy have you to offer me?

Wangel.

[Looks sorrowfully at her.] To-morrow—he will be gone. Then you will be safe from disaster; and then I promise to release you and let you go. We will cancel the bargain, Ellida.

Ellida.

Oh Wangel——! To-morrow—it will be too late——!

Wangel.

[Looks out towards the garden.]] The children! The children——! Let us at least spare them—for the present.

Arnholm,Boletta,Hilda,andLyngstrandappear in the garden.Lyngstrandtakes leave without entering the house, and goes out to the left. The others come into the room.

Arnholm.

Ah, I can tell you we have been laying great plans——

Hilda.

We want to go out on the fiord this evening, and——

Boletta.

No, no, don’t tell!

Wangel.

We two have also been laying plans.

Arnholm.

Ah—really?

Wangel.

To-morrow Ellida is going to Skioldvik—for a time.

Boletta.

Going away——?

Arnholm.

That is very wise, Mrs. Wangel.

Wangel.

Ellida wants to go home again; home to the sea.

Hilda.

[With a little rush towardsEllida.] Are you going away? Going away from us!

Ellida.

[Startled.] Why, Hilda! What is the matter with you?

Hilda.

[Restraining herself.] Oh, nothing at all. [In a low tone, turning from her.]Go by all means!

Boletta.

[Anxiously.] Father, I can see—you are going away too—to Skioldvik!

Wangel.

No, certainly not! I shall perhaps run out now and then——

Boletta.

And home again——?

Wangel.

Yes, home——

Boletta.

——now and then, I suppose!

Wangel.

My dear child, itmustbe so.[He walks away.

Arnholm.

[Whispers.] I have something to say to you by-and-by, Boletta.

[He goes over toWangel.They converse in a low tone by the door.

Ellida.

[Softly toBoletta.] What was the matter with Hilda? She seemed quite beside herself!

Boletta.

Have you never seen what Hilda has been thirsting for, day after day?

Ellida.

Thirsting for?

Boletta.

Ever since you came into the house!

Ellida.

No, no,—what is it?

Boletta.

One word of affection from you.

Ellida.

Ah——! What if there were work for me to dohere!

[She clasps her hands above her head and looks immovably before her, as if a prey to conflicting thoughts and moods.[WangelandArnholmcome forward conversing in whispers.[Bolettagoes and looks into the side room on the right. Then she throws the door wide open.

[She clasps her hands above her head and looks immovably before her, as if a prey to conflicting thoughts and moods.

[WangelandArnholmcome forward conversing in whispers.

[Bolettagoes and looks into the side room on the right. Then she throws the door wide open.

Boletta.

Well, father dear—dinner is on the table,——

Wangel.

[With forced composure.] Is it, child? That’s right. Come along, Arnholm! We will drink a parting cup with—with “the lady from the sea.”

[They go towards the door on the right.

ACT FIFTH.

The remote corner ofDr. Wangel’sgarden, by the carp-pond. Deepening summer twilight.

Arnholm,Boletta,Lyngstrand,andHilda,in a boat on the fiord, are punting along the shore from the left.

Hilda.

Look, we can easily jump ashore here!

Arnholm.

No no, don’t do it!

Lyngstrand.

I can’t jump, Miss Hilda.

Hilda.

Can’t you jump either, Mr. Arnholm?

Arnholm.

I would rather not.

Boletta.

Let us land at the bathing-house steps.

[They punt the boat out to the right.

At that momentBallestedappears from the right, on the footpath, carrying music and a French horn. He greets those in the boat, turns, and talks to them. Their answers are heard farther and farther off.

Ballested.

What do you say?—Yes of course it’s in honour of the English steamer. It’s her last trip this year. But if you want to enjoy the music you mustn’t put off too long. [Calls out.] What? [Shakes his head.] Can’t hear what you say!

[Ellida,with a shawl over her head, comes in from the left, followed byDr. Wangel.

Wangel.

But, my dear Ellida, I assure you there is ample time.

Ellida.

No, no,—there is not! He may come at any moment.

Ballested.

[Outside, by the garden fence.] Ah, good evening, Doctor! Good evening, Mrs. Wangel!

Wangel.

[Notices him.] Oh, are you there? Is there to be music to-night again?

Ballested.

Yes. The Musical Society proposes to show what it can do. There’s no lack of festive occasions at this season. To-night it’s in honour of the Englishman.

Ellida.

The English steamer! Is it in sight already?

Ballested.

Not yet; but you see it comes down the fiord among the islands. It is on you before you know where you are.

Ellida.

Yes,—that is true.

Wangel.

[Partly toEllida.] This is the last trip. After to-night we shall see no more of it.

Ballested.

A melancholy thought, Doctor. But that’s why we are turning out in its honour, as I said before. Ah yes, ah yes! The happy summer-time is drawing to a close. “Soon will all the straits be ice-bound,” as they say in the tragedy.[22]

Ellida.

All the straits ice-bound,—yes.

Ballested.

Mournful reflection! For weeks and months now we have been joyful children of the summer; it is hard to reconcile oneself to the dark days. At first, that is to say; for peoplecanalcli—ac—climatise themselves, Mrs. Wangel. Yes they can indeed.

[He bows and goes out to the left.

Ellida.

[Looks out across the fiord.] Oh this torturing suspense! This intolerable last half-hour before the decision!

Wangel.

Then you are still bent on speaking with him yourself?

Ellida.

Imustspeak with him myself; for I must make my choice of my own free will.

Wangel.

You have no choice, Ellida. You cannot be allowed to choose—Iwill not allow you.

Ellida.

You can never prevent my choosing; neither you nor any one else. You can forbid me to go away with him—to cast in my lot with him—if I should choose that. You can forcibly detain me here, against my will. That you can do. But the choice in my innermost soul—my choice of him and not of you,—in case I should and must choose so,—that you cannot prevent.

Wangel.

No, you are right; I cannot prevent that.

Ellida.

And then I have nothing to help me to resist! At home here there is nothing whatever to attach and bind me. I am utterly without root in your house, Wangel. The children are not mine—their hearts, I mean. They have never been mine.—When I go away—if I do go away—either with him to-night or out to Skioldvik to-morrow,—I have not a key to give up, not a direction to leave behind me, about anything in the world. You see how utterly without root I am in your house; how I have stood entirely outside of everything from the very first moment.

Wangel.

You yourself willed it so.

Ellida.

No, I did not. I had no will one way or theother. I have merely let everything remain as I found it the day I came. It is you—and no one else—who have willed it so.

Wangel.

I meant to do what was best for you.

Ellida.

Oh yes, Wangel, I know that so well! But now all this must be paid for; it will have its revenge. There is nothing here now that has any binding power over me—nothing to support—nothing to help me. There is no counter-fascination for me in what should have been the dearest treasure of our common life.

Back to Index Next