ACT SECOND.

Ellida.

Did he say nothing at all? Did he not speak?

Lyngstrand.

Not at first. But presently he said, as if tohimself: “Married—to another man—while I was away.”

Ellida.

[Shuts her eyes, and says half to herself:] Did he say that?

Lyngstrand.

Yes; and would you believe it—he said it in perfectly good Norwegian. He must have had a great gift for languages, that man.

Ellida.

And what then? What happened next?

Lyngstrand.

Now comes the wonderful part of it—a thing I shall never forget to my dying day. For he added,—and this quite quietly too: “But mine she is, and mine she shall remain. And follow me she shall, though I should have to go home and fetch her, as a drowned man from the bottom of the sea.”

Ellida.

[Pouring out a glass of water; her hand shakes.] Pah—how close it is to-day——!

Lyngstrand.

And he said it with such force of will that I felt he was the man to do it too.

Ellida.

Do you know at all—what has become of this man?

Lyngstrand.

Oh he’s dead, Mrs. Wangel, beyond a doubt.

Ellida.

[Hastily.] What makes you think that?

Lyngstrand.

We were shipwrecked afterwards in the Channel, you know. I got off in the long-boat with the captain and five others; but the mate went in the dingey, and with him was the American and one man besides.

Ellida.

And nothing has been heard of them since?

Lyngstrand.

No, not a word, Mrs. Wangel. My patron wrote me so, only the other day. And that is the very reason I am so anxious to make a group of it. I can see the sailor’s faithless wife so life-like before me; and then the avenger, who is drowned, but nevertheless comes home from sea. I have them both before my eyes as distinctly as possible.

Ellida.

So have I. [Rising.] Come,—let us go in. Or rather down to Wangel! It seems to me so stifling here.

She comes out of arbour.

Lyngstrand.

[Who has also risen.] I think I must be going now. I only just looked in to wish you many happy returns of the day.

Ellida.

Well, if you must go——[Holds out her hand.] Good-bye, and thanks for the flowers.

[Lyngstrandbows and goes through the garden gate, out to the left.

Arnholm.

[Rises and goes up toEllida.] I can see that this has pained you deeply, my dear Mrs. Wangel.

Ellida.

Oh yes, I suppose you may put it so, although——

Arnholm.

But after all, it is only what you must have been prepared for.

Ellida.

[Looks at him in surprise.] Prepared for?

Arnholm.

Yes, so I should think.

Ellida.

Prepared for his returning——? Returning in such a way?

Arnholm.

Why, what in the world——! Is it that crazy sculptor’s cock-and-bull story——?

Ellida.

Ah, my dear Arnholm, he is perhaps not so crazy as you think.

Arnholm.

Can it be this nonsense about the dead man that has moved you so much? I thought it was——

Ellida.

What did you think?

Arnholm.

Of course, I thought that was only a blind onyour part. I fancied you were pained by the discovery that a family anniversary was being celebrated without your knowledge—that your husband and his children are living a life of memories in which you have no share.

Ellida.

Oh no, no; that must be as it may. I have no right to claim my husband for myself alone.

Arnholm.

Yet it seems to me you ought to have that right.

Ellida.

Yes; but as a matter of fact I haven’t. That is the thing. I too live a life—in which the others have no part.

Arnholm.

You! [More softly.] Am I to understand that—you—you do not really love your husband?

Ellida.

Oh yes, yes—I have come to love him with my whole heart! And that is just why it is so terrible—so inexplicable—so absolutely inconceivable——!

Arnholm.

Now you must tell me all your troubles without reserve! Will you not, Mrs. Wangel?

Ellida.

I cannot, dear friend—not now, at any rate. Sometime, perhaps.

[Bolettacomes out by the verandah, and down into the garden.

Boletta.

Father is coming from the surgery now. Shan’t we all sit together in the garden-room?

Ellida.

Yes, let us.

Wangel,who has changed his clothes, comes withHildafrom the left, behind the house.

Wangel.

Well now, here I am, a free man! A glass of something cool wouldn’t come amiss now.

Ellida.

Wait a moment.

[She returns to the arbour and brings out the bouquet.

Hilda.

Oh I say! All those lovely flowers! Where did you get them?

Ellida.

I got them from Lyngstrand the sculptor, my dear Hilda.

Hilda.

[Starting.] From Lyngstrand?

Boletta.

[Uneasily.] Has Lyngstrand been here—again?

Ellida.

[With a half-smile.] Yes. He came to bring this bouquet,—a birthday offering, you know.

Boletta.

[Glancing at Hilda.] Oh——!

Hilda.

[Mutters.] The beast!

Wangel.

[In painful embarrassment, toEllida.] H’m——. Well, you see—I must tell you, my darling Ellida——

Ellida.

[Interrupting.] Come along, girls! Let us put my flowers in water, with the others.

[She goes up on to the verandah.

Boletta.

[Softly toHilda.] She is really good after all, you see.

Hilda.

[Half aloud, looking angry.] Monkey-tricks! She’s only putting it on to please father.

Wangel.

[Up on the verandah, pressesEllida’shand.] Thank you—thank you——! I thank you from my heart for this, Ellida.

Ellida.

[Arranging the flowers.] Oh, nonsense,—why should I not join with you in keeping—mother’s birthday?

Arnholm.

H’m——!

[He goes up toWangelandEllida.BolettaandHildaremain below in the garden.

ACT SECOND.

Up at the Prospect, a wooded height behind the town. Towards the back stand a landmark and a weathervane. Large stones for seats are placed round the landmark and in the foreground. Far below in the background the outer fiord is seen, with islands and jutting promontories. The open sea is not visible. A summer night with clear twilight. There is a tinge of orange in the upper air and over the mountain peaks in the far distance. The sound of quartette-singing is faintly heard from the lower slopes on the right.

Young people from the town, ladies and gentlemen, come in couples up from the right, pass the landmark conversing familiarly, and go out to the left. Shortly afterwardsBallestedappears, acting as guide to a party of foreign tourists. He is loaded with the ladies’ shawls and satchels.

Ballested.

[Pointing upward with his stick.]Sehen Sie, meine Herrschaften—overdort liegt eine andereheight.Das willen wir besteigentoo,un herunter——

[He continues in English, and leads the party out to the right.

Hildacomes quickly up the slope on the right, stops, and looks backward. PresentlyBolettacomes up the same way.

Boletta.

My dear Hilda, why should we run away from Lyngstrand?

Hilda.

Because I can’t endure to walk up hill so slowly. Look—look at him crawling up.

Boletta.

Oh, you know how ill he is.

Hilda.

Do you think it’s very serious?

Boletta.

Yes, I am sure it is.

Hilda.

He consulted father this afternoon. I wonder what father thinks of him.

Boletta.

Father told me that he has a hardening of the lungs—or something of that sort. He won’t last very long, father says.

Hilda.

Did he really say so? Well now, that’s exactly what I’ve been thinking.

Boletta.

But for heaven’s sake don’t let him suspect anything.

Hilda.

Oh, how can you think I would. [In a lower tone.] There!—now Hans has managed to clamberup. Hans——! Can’t you see by the look of him that his name is Hans?

Boletta.

[Whispers.] Do be good now! I warn you!

Lyngstrandenters from the right, a parasol in his hand.

Lyngstrand.

I must beg your pardon, young ladies, for not being able to keep up with you.

Hilda.

So you have got a parasol now?

Lyngstrand.

It’s your mother’s. She said I might use it for a stick, as I hadn’t brought one with me.

Boletta.

Are they still down there? Father and the others?

Lyngstrand.

Yes. Your father went into the restaurant for a moment, and the others are sitting outside listening to the music; but they’ll come up by-and-by, your mother said.

Hilda.

[Who is standing looking at him.] I suppose you are very tired now?

Lyngstrand.

Yes, I almost think I am a little tired. I really believe I must sit down a bit.

[He seats himself on a stone, in front to the right.

Hilda.

[Stands before him.] Do you know that there’s to be dancing presently, down by the band-stand?

Lyngstrand.

Yes, I heard something of it.

Hilda.

I suppose you are very fond of dancing!

Boletta.

[Who is wandering about picking small flowers among the heather.] Oh, Hilda—let Mr. Lyngstrand get his breath.

Lyngstrand.

[ToHilda.] Yes, Miss Hilda, I should like very much to dance—if only I could.

Hilda.

Oh I see; you have never learned.

Lyngstrand.

No, I haven’t. But that was not what I meant. I meant that I can’t dance on account of my chest.

Hilda.

On account of that “lesion” you spoke of?

Lyngstrand.

Yes, that’s it.

Hilda.

Does this “lesion” make you very unhappy?

Lyngstrand.

Oh no, I can’t say it does. [Smiling.] For Ibelieve it is that which makes everybody so kind and friendly and helpful to me.

Hilda.

Yes; and of course it’s not a bit serious.

Lyngstrand.

No, not serious in the least. I could see quite well that your father thought so too.

Hilda.

And it will pass off as soon as you go abroad?

Lyngstrand.

Yes; it will pass off.

Boletta.

[With flowers in her hand.] Look at these, Mr. Lyngstrand—here is one for your button-hole.

Lyngstrand.

Oh, a thousand thanks, Miss Wangel! You are really too kind.

Hilda.

[Looking down the hill to the right.] Here they are, coming up the path.

Boletta.

[Also looking down.] I hope they know where to turn off. No, they are going the wrong way.

Lyngstrand.

[Rises.] I’ll run down to the turning and call out to them.

Hilda.

You’ll have to call very loud then.

Boletta.

No, you had better not. You’ll only tire yourself again.

Lyngstrand.

Oh, it’s so easy going downhill.

[He goes out to the right.

Hilda.

Yes, downhill. [Looks after him.] Now he’s jumping too! And it never occurs to him that he will have to come up again.

Boletta.

Poor creature——!

Hilda.

If Lyngstrand were to propose to you, would you have him?

Boletta.

Are you out of your senses?

Hilda.

Oh I mean, of course, if he hadn’t this “lesion”—and if he weren’t going to die so soon. Would you have himthen?

Boletta.

I think you had better have him.

Hilda.

No, I’m bothered if I would. He hasn’t a rap. He hasn’t enough to live upon himself.

Boletta.

Why are you always so much taken up with him then?

Hilda.

Oh, that’s only on account of his “lesion.”

Boletta.

I have never noticed that you pity him a bit.

Hilda.

No more I do. But it’s so tempting to me——

Boletta.

What is?

Hilda.

To look at him, and get him to say that it’s not serious, and that he’s going abroad and going to be an artist. He’s perfectly convinced of all that, and as happy as possible about it. And to know that nothing will come of it after all; nothing whatever; that he won’t live long enough——I find that so thrilling to think of.

Boletta.

Thrilling!

Hilda.

Yes. I find it thrilling—I take that liberty.

Boletta.

Fie Hilda, you are really a horrid child!

Hilda.

Well, that’s what I want to be—just for spite! [Looks down.] Ah, at last! Arnholm doesn’t seemto enjoy climbing. [Turns round.] Oh, by-the-bye—what do you think I noticed about Arnholm while we were at dinner?

Boletta.

What?

Hilda.

Only think, he’s beginning to turn bald—right on the crown of his head.

Boletta.

Oh rubbish! I’m sure he isn’t.

Hilda.

Yes he is. And he has wrinkles here, round both his eyes. Good heavens, Boletta, howcouldyou be so gone on him when he was your tutor?

Boletta.

[Smiling.] Yes, can you understand it? I remember once shedding bitter tears because he said he thought Boletta an ugly name.

Hilda.

Think of that! [Looks down again.] I say! Look there! Just look!—There’s “the lady from the sea” walking with him—not with father—and jabbering away to him. I wonder whether those two aren’t a bit sweet on each other.

Boletta.

You ought really to be ashamed of yourself. How dare you say such things about her? We were beginning to get on so well together——

Hilda.

Oh, indeed!—Don’t you believe it, my girl! I tell you we shall never get on well with her. She doesn’t suit us, nor we her. Heaven knows what tempted father to drag her into the house!—I shouldn’t wonder a bit if she were to go mad on our hands some fine day.

Boletta.

Mad? What makes you think such a thing?

Hilda.

Oh, there would be nothing so wonderful about it. Didn’t her mother go mad? She died mad, I know.

Boletta.

Yes, I should like to know what you don’t poke your nose into. All I say is, don’t go chattering about it. Be good now—for father’s sake. Do you hear, Hilda?

[Wangel,Ellida,Arnholm,andLyngstrandcome up from the right.

Ellida.

[Points away towards the background.] It lies out there.

Arnholm.

Yes, of course; it must be in that direction.

Ellida.

Out there lies the sea.

Boletta.

[ToArnholm.] Don’t you think it’s pretty up here?

Arnholm.

I should rather say grand—a glorious view!

Wangel.

I daresay you have never been up here before?

Arnholm.

No, never. In my time I doubt if it was accessible. There wasn’t even a footpath.

Wangel.

And no grounds laid out either. We have done all that in the last few years.

Boletta.

Over there, on the Pilot’s Knoll, the view is even finer.

Wangel.

Shall we go there, Ellida?

Ellida.

[Seats herself upon a stone to the right.] Thank you, I won’t go. But you others ought to. I shall stay here in the meantime.

Wangel.

Very well; then I’ll stay with you. The girls can do the honours for Arnholm.

Boletta.

Do you care to come with us, Mr. Arnholm?

Arnholm.

Yes, I should like to. Is there a path up there too?

Boletta.

Oh yes; a good broad path.

Hilda.

There’s plenty of room for two people to go arm-in-arm.

Arnholm.

[Jestingly.] I wonder if there is, little Miss Hilda? [ToBoletta.] Shall we two try if she is right?

Boletta.

[Repressing a smile.] Yes, if you like. Let us.

[They go out to the left, arm-in-arm.

Hilda.

[ToLyngstrand.] Shall we go too——?

Lyngstrand.

Arm-in-arm——?

Hilda.

Why not? I don’t mind.

Lyngstrand.

[Gives her his arm, and laughs with pleasure.] This is great fun, isn’t it?

Hilda.

Great fun——?

Lyngstrand.

Why, it looks exactly as if we were engaged.

Hilda.

I suppose you have never given a lady your arm before, Mr. Lyngstrand.

[They go out to the left.

Wangel.

[Who is standing at the back, beside the landmark.] Dear Ellida, now we have a little time to ourselves——

Ellida.

Yes, come and sit here beside me.

Wangel.

[Seats himself.] It’s so open and peaceful here. Now let us have a little talk.

Ellida.

What about?

Wangel.

About you; and about our relation to each other, Ellida. I see well enough that this state of things cannot continue.

Ellida.

What would you have in its place?

Wangel.

Full confidence, dear. A life in common—such as we used to live.

Ellida.

Oh, if that could only be! But it’s so utterly impossible!

Wangel.

I think I understand you. From certain things you have let fall now and then, I believe I do.

Ellida.

[Vehemently.] No you don’t! Don’t say that you understand——!

Wangel.

Oh yes. Yours is an upright nature, Ellida. You have a loyal heart.

Ellida.

Yes, I have.

Wangel.

Any relation in which you can feel secure and happy must be a full and perfect one.

Ellida.

[Looking anxiously at him.] Well,—and then?

Wangel.

You are not fitted to be a man’s second wife.

Ellida.

What makes you think ofthatnow?

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