Chapter 3

Rita.

[With a teasing smile.] Really? No one at all?

Asta.

Not thatIknow of. [Changing the subject.] But tell me, Rita, where is Alfred? Is he still asleep?

Rita.

Oh, not at all. He got up as early as ever to-day.

Asta.

Then he can’t have been so very tired after all.

Rita.

Yes, he was last night—when he arrived. But now he has had little Eyolf with him in his room for a whole hour and more.

Asta.

Poor little white-faced boy! Has he to be for ever at his lessons again?

Rita.

[With a slight shrug.] Alfred will have it so, you know.

Asta.

Yes; but I think you ought to put down your foot about it, Rita.

Rita.

[Somewhat impatiently.] Oh no; come now, I really cannot meddle with that. Alfred knows so much better about these things than I do. And what would you have Eyolf do? He can’t run about and play, you see—like other children.

Asta.

[With decision.] I will talk to Alfred about this.

Rita.

Yes, do; I wish you would.—Oh! here he is.

[Alfred Allmers, dressed in light summer clothes, enters by the door on the left, leadingEyolfby the hand. He is a slim, lightly-built man of about thirty-six or thirty-seven, with gentle eyes, and thin brown hair and beard. His expression is serious and thoughtful.Eyolfwears a suit cut like a uniform, with gold braid and gilt military buttons. He is lame, and walkswith a crutch under his left arm. His leg is shrunken. He is undersized, and looks delicate, but has beautiful intelligent eyes.

Allmers.

[DropsEyolf’shand, goes up toAstawith an expression of marked pleasure, and holds out both his hands to her.] Asta! My dearest Asta! To think of your coming! To think of my seeing you so soon!

Asta.

I felt I must——. Welcome home again!

Allmers.

[Shaking her hands.] Thank you for coming.

Rita.

Doesn’t he look well?

Asta.

[Gazes fixedly at him.] Splendid! Quite splendid! His eyes are so much brighter! And I suppose you have done a great deal of writing on your travels? [With an outburst of joy.] I shouldn’t wonder if you had finished the whole book, Alfred?

Allmers.

[Shrugging his shoulders.] The book? Oh, the book——

Asta.

Yes, I was sure you would find it go so easily when once you got away.

Allmers.

So I thought too. But, do you know, I didn’t find it so at all. The truth is, I have not written a line of the book.

Asta.

Not a line?

Rita.

Oho! I wondered when I found all the paper lying untouched in your bag.

Asta.

But, my dear Alfred, what have you been doing all this time?

Allmers.

[Smiling.] Only thinking and thinking and thinking.

Rita.

[Putting her arm round his neck.] And thinking a little, too, of those you had left at home?

Allmers.

Yes, you may be sure of that. I have thought a great deal of you—every single day.

Rita.

[Taking her arm away.] Ah, that is all I care about.

Asta.

But you haven’t even touched the book! And yet you can look so happy and contented! That is not what you generally do—I mean when your work is going badly.

Allmers.

You are right there. You see, I have been such a fool hitherto. All the best that is in you goes into thinking. What you put on paper is worth very little.

Asta.

[Exclaiming.] Worth very little!

Rita.

[Laughing.] What an absurd thing to say, Alfred.

Eyolf.

[Looks confidingly up at him.] Oh yes, Papa, whatyouwrite is worth a great deal!

Allmers.

[Smiling and stroking his hair.] Well, well, sinceyousay so——But I can tell you, some one is coming after me who will do it better.

Eyolf.

Who can that be? Oh, tell me!

Allmers.

Only wait—you may be sure he will come, and let us hear of him.

Eyolf.

And what will you do then?

Allmers.

[Seriously.] Then I will go to the mountains again——

Rita.

Fie, Alfred! For shame!

Allmers.

—up to the peaks and the great waste places.

Eyolf.

Papa, don’t you think I shall soon be well enough for you to take me with you?

Allmers.

[With painful emotion.] Oh, yes, perhaps, my little boy.

Eyolf.

It would be so splendid, you know, if I could climb the mountains, like you.

Asta.

[Changing the subject.] Why, how beautifully you are dressed to-day, Eyolf!

Eyolf.

Yes, don’t you think so, Auntie?

Asta.

Yes, indeed. Is it in honour of Papa that you have got your new clothes on?

Eyolf.

Yes, I asked Mama to let me. I wanted so to let Papa see me in them.

Allmers.

[In a low voice, toRita.] You shouldn’t have given him clothes like that.

Rita.

[In a low voice.] Oh, he has teased me so long about them—he had set his heart on them. He gave me no peace.

Eyolf.

And I forgot to tell you, Papa—Borgheim has bought me a new bow. And he has taught me how to shoot with it too.

Allmers.

Ah, there now—that’s just the sort of thing for you, Eyolf.

Eyolf.

And next time he comes, I shall ask him to teach me to swim, too.

Allmers.

To swim! Oh, what makes you want to learn swimming?

Eyolf.

Well, you know, all the boys down at the beach can swim. I am the only one that can’t.

Allmers.

[With emotion, taking him in his arms.] You shall learn whatever you like—everything you really want to.

Eyolf.

Then do you know what I want most of all, Papa?

Allmers.

No; tell me.

Eyolf.

I want most of all to be a soldier.

Allmers.

Oh, little Eyolf, there are many, many other things that are better than that.

Eyolf.

Ah, but when I grow big, then I shallhaveto be a soldier. You know that, don’t you?

Allmers.

[Clenching his hands together.] Well, well, well: we shall see——

Asta.

[Seating herself at the table on the left.] Eyolf! Come here to me, and I will tell you something.

Eyolf.

[Goes up to her.] What is it, Auntie?

Asta.

What do you think, Eyolf—I have seen the Rat-Wife.

Eyolf.

What! Seen the Rat-Wife! Oh, you’re only making a fool of me!

Asta.

No; it’s quite true. I saw her yesterday.

Eyolf.

Where did you see her?

Asta.

I saw her on the road, outside the town.

Allmers.

I saw her, too, somewhere up in the country.

Rita.

[Who is sitting on the sofa.] Perhaps it will be our turn to see her next, Eyolf.

Eyolf.

Auntie, isn’t it strange that she should be called the Rat-Wife?

Asta.

Oh, people just give her that name because she wanders round the country driving away all the rats.

Allmers.

I have heard that her real name is Varg.

Eyolf.

Varg! That means a wolf, doesn’t it?

Allmers.

[Patting him on the head.] So you know that, do you?

Eyolf.

[Cautiously.] Then perhaps it may be true, after all, that she is a were-wolf at night. Do you believe that, Papa?

Allmers.

Oh, no; I don’t believe it. Now you ought to go and play a little in the garden.

Eyolf.

Should I not take some books with me?

Allmers.

No, no books after this. You had better go down to the beach to the other boys.

Eyolf.

[Shyly.] No, Papa, I won’t go down to the boys to-day.

Allmers.

Why not?

Eyolf.

Oh, because I have these clothes on.

Allmers.

[Knitting his brows.] Do you mean that they make fun of—of your pretty clothes?

Eyolf.

[Evasively.] No, they daren’t—for then I would thrash them.

Allmers.

Aha!—then why——?

Eyolf.

You see, they are so naughty, these boys. And then they say I can never be a soldier.

Allmers.

[With suppressed indignation.] Why do they say that, do you think?

Eyolf.

I suppose they are jealous of me. For you know, Papa, they are so poor, they have to go about barefoot.

Allmers.

[Softly, with choking voice.] Oh, Rita—how it wrings my heart!

Rita.

[Soothingly, rising.] There, there, there!

Allmers.

[Threateningly.] But these rascals shall soon find out who is the master down at the beach!

Asta.

[Listening.] There is some one knocking.

Eyolf.

Oh, I’m sure it’s Borgheim!

Rita.

Come in.

[TheRat-Wifecomes softly and noiselessly in by the door on the right. She is a thin little shrunken figure, old and grey-haired, with keen, piercing eyes, dressed in an old-fashioned flowered gown, with a black hood and cloak. She has in her hand a large red umbrella, and carries a black bag by a loop over her arm.

Eyolf.

[Softly, taking hold ofAsta’sdress.] Auntie! That must surely be her!

The Rat-Wife.

[Curtseying at the door.] I humbly beg pardon—but are your worships troubled with any gnawing things in the house?

Allmers.

Here? No, I don’t think so.

The Rat-Wife.

For it would be such a pleasure to me to rid your worships’ house of them.

Rita.

Yes, yes; we understand. But we have nothing of the sort here.

The Rat-Wife.

That’s very unlucky, that is; for I just happened to be on my rounds now, and goodness knows when I may be in these parts again.—Oh, how tired I am!

Allmers.

[Pointing to a chair.] Yes, you look tired.

The Rat-Wife.

I know one ought never to get tired of doing good to the poor little things that are hated and persecuted so cruelly. But it takes your strength out of you, it does.

Rita.

Won’t you sit down and rest a little?

The Rat-Wife.

I thank your ladyship with all my heart. [Seats herself on a chair between the door and the sofa.] I have been out all night at my work.

Allmers.

Have you indeed?

The Rat-Wife.

Yes, over on the islands. [With a chuckling laugh.] The people sent for me, I can assure you. They didn’t like it a bit; but there was nothing else to be done. They had to put a good face on it, and bite the sour apple. [Looks atEyolf, and nods.] The sour apple, little master, the sour apple.

Eyolf.

[Involuntarily, a little timidly.] Why did they have to——?

The Rat-Wife.

What?

Eyolf.

To bite it?

The Rat-Wife.

Why, because they couldn’t keep body and soul together on account of the rats and all the little rat-children, you see, young master.

Rita.

Ugh! Poor people! Have they so many of them?

The Rat-Wife.

Yes, it was all alive and swarming with them. [Laughs with quiet glee.] They came creepy-crawly up into the beds all night long. They plumped into the milk-cans, and they went pittering and pattering all over the floor, backwards and forwards, and up and down.

Eyolf.

[Softly, toAsta.] I shall never go there, Auntie.

The Rat-Wife.

But then I came—I, and another along with me. And we took them with us, every one—the sweet little creatures! We made an end of every one of them.

Eyolf.

[With a shriek.] Papa—look! look!

Rita.

Good Heavens, Eyolf!

Allmers.

What’s the matter?

Eyolf.

[Pointing.] There’s something wriggling in the bag!

Rita.

[At the extreme left, shrieks.] Ugh! Send her away, Alfred.

The Rat-Wife.

[Laughing.] Oh, dearest lady, you needn’t be frightened of such a little mannikin.

Allmers.

But whatisthe thing?

The Rat-Wife.

Why, it’s only little Mopsëman. [Loosening the string of the bag.] Come up out of the dark, my own little darling friend.

[A little dog with a broad black snout pokes its head out of the bag.

The Rat-Wife.

[Nodding and beckoning toEyolf.] Come along, don’t be afraid, my little wounded warrior! He won’t bite. Come here! Come here!

Eyolf.

[Clinging toAsta.] No, I dare not.

The Rat-Wife.

Don’t you think he has a gentle, lovable countenance, my young master?

Eyolf.

[Astonished, pointing.] That thingthere?

The Rat-Wife.

Yes, this thing here.

Eyolf.

[Almost under his breath, staring fixedly at the dog.] I think he has the horriblest—countenance I ever saw.

The Rat-Wife.

[Closing the bag.] Oh, it will come—it will come, right enough.

Eyolf.

[Involuntarily drawing nearer, at last goes right up to her, and strokes the bag.] But he is lovely—lovely all the same.

The Rat-Wife.

[In a tone of caution.] But now he is so tired and weary, poor thing. He’s utterly tired out, he is. [Looks atAllmers.] For it takes the strength out of you, that sort of game, I can tell you, sir.

Allmers.

What sort of game do you mean?

The Rat-Wife.

The luring game.

Allmers.

Do you mean that it is the dog that lures the rats?

The Rat-Wife.

[Nodding.] Mopsëman and I—we two do it together. And it goes so smoothly—for all you can see, at any rate. I just slip a string through his collar, and then I lead him three times round the house, and play on my Pan’s-pipes. When they hear that, they have got to come up from the cellars, and down from the garrets, and out of their holes, all the blessed little creatures.

Eyolf.

And does he bite them to death then?

The Rat-Wife.

Oh, not at all! No, we go down to the boat, he and I do—and then they follow after us, both the big ones and the little ratikins.

Eyolf.

[Eagerly.] And what then—tell me!

The Rat-Wife.

Then we push out from the land, and I scull with one oar, and play on my Pan’s-pipes. AndMopsëman, he swims behind. [With glittering eyes.] And all the creepers and crawlers, they follow and follow us out into the deep, deep waters. Ay, for theyhaveto.

Eyolf.

Why have they to?

The Rat-Wife.

Just because they want not to—just because they are so deadly afraid of the water. That is why they have got to plunge into it.

Eyolf.

Are they drowned, then?

The Rat-Wife.

Every blessed one. [More softly.] And there it is all as still, and soft, and dark as their hearts can desire, the lovely little things. Down there they sleep a long, sweet sleep, with no one to hate them or persecute them any more. [Rises.] In the old days, I can tell you, I didn’t need any Mopsëman. Then I did the luring myself—I alone.

Eyolf.

And what did you lure then?

The Rat-Wife.

Men. One most of all.

Eyolf.

[With eagerness.] Oh, who was that one? Tell me!

The Rat-Wife.

[Laughing.] It was my own sweetheart, it was, little heart-breaker!

Eyolf.

And where is he now, then?

The Rat-Wife.

[Harshly.] Down where all the rats are. [Resuming her milder tone.] But now I must be off and get to business again. Always on the move. [ToRita.] So your ladyship has no sort of use for me to-day? I could finish it all off while I am about it.

Rita.

No, thank you; I don’t think we require anything.

The Rat-Wife.

Well, well, your sweet ladyship, you can never tell. If your ladyship should find that there is anything here that keeps nibbling and gnawing, and creeping and crawling, then just see and get hold of me and Mopsëman.—Good-bye, good-bye, a kind good-bye to you all.

[She goes out by the door on the right.

Eyolf.

[Softly and triumphantly, toAsta.] Only think, Auntie, now I have seen the Rat-Wife too!

[Ritagoes out upon the verandah, and fans herself with her pocket-handkerchief.Shortly afterwards,Eyolfslips cautiously and unnoticed out to the right.

Allmers.

[Takes up the portfolio from the table by the sofa.] Is this your portfolio, Asta?

Asta.

Yes. I have some of the old letters in it.

Allmers.

Ah, the family letters——

Asta.

You know you asked me to arrange them for you while you were away.

Allmers.

[Pats her on the head.] And you have actually found time to do that, dear?

Asta.

Oh, yes. I have done it partly out here and partly at my own rooms in town.

Allmers.

Thanks, dear. Did you find anything particular in them?

Asta.

[Lightly.] Oh, you know you always find something or other in such old papers. [Speaking lower and seriously.] It is the letters to mother that are in this portfolio.

Allmers.

Those, of course, you must keep yourself.

Asta.

[With an effort.] No; I am determined that you shall look through them, too, Alfred. Some time—later on in life. I haven’t the key of the portfolio with me just now.

Allmers.

It doesn’t matter, my dear Asta, for I shall never read your mother’s letters in any case.

Asta.

[Fixing her eyes on him.] Then some time or other—some quiet evening—I will tell you a little of what is in them.

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