F. Anstey

“ Linden.
Don't you? I do. I am a widow—a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred to me that there may be a nobler side to your nature somewhere—though you have not precisely the best of reputations.
Krogstad.
Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the Norwegian Punch—a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been blackmailing Mrs. Helmer by trading on her fears, like a low cowardly cur. But, in spite of all that— [clasping his hands] —there are the makings of a fine man about me yet, Christina! ”

“ Isn't it terrible, Hilda, that so many poor souls never really die their own deaths—pass out of the world without even the formality of an inquest? As the district Coroner, I feel strongly on the subject.
Hilda.
And, when the Coroner has finished sitting on all the bodies, perhaps—but I shan't tell you now. [Speaks as if to a child.] There, run away and finish making the rainbow-powder, do!
Dr. Herdal.
[Skips up into the dispensary.] I will—I will! Oh, I do feel such a troll—such a light-haired, light-headed old devil! ”

“ He jumps up and down as if embarrassed.
"Oh, my goodness, Rebecca—you mustn't, you know!"
Rebecca.
Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve—little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The Rosmer view of life is ennobling, very—but hardly lively. ”

“ Hilda.
[Without answering him.] All the thrillingest, deadliest poisons—it is only such things that are wholesome, nowadays.
Dr. Herdal.
[As if caught by her enthusiasm.] And I could colour them, too, by exposing them to rays cast through a prism. Oh, Hilda, how I have needed you all these years! For, you see, with her it was impossible to discuss such things.
[Embraces her.
Mrs. Herdal.
[Enters noiselessly through hall-door.] I suppose, Haustus, you are persuading Miss Wangel to start by the afternoon steamer? I have bought her a pair of curling-tongs, and a packet of hairpins. ”

“ I am perfectly sure the pill had nothing whatever to do with it—the inquest made it quite clear that it was really the liniment. But don't you see, Aline, what tortures me night and day is the thought that it might unconsciously have been the pill which—— Never to be free from that! To have such a thought gnawing and burning always—always, like a moral mustard plaster! ”

“ It's the pigstol—that fatal Norwegian weapon which, in Ibsenian dramas, never shoots straight! And she has got it by the wrong end too. She will shoot herself!
Gregers.
[Quietly.] She will! Let the child make amends. It will be a most realistic and impressive finale!
Gina.
No, no—put down the pigstol, Hedvig. Do you hear, child?
Hedvig.
[Still aiming.] I hear—but I shan't unless father tells me to.
Gregers.
Hialmar, show the great soul I always said you had. This sorrow will set free what is noble in you. Don't spoil a fine situation. Be a man! Let the child shoot herself! ”

“ Hilda.
[Sulkily.] I'm not a lark—I'm a bird of prey—and when I get my claws into anything——!
The New Assistant.
Macaroons, for instance? I remember your tastes of old. See, Nora! [Produces a paper-bag from his coat-tail pocket.] They were fresh this morning!
Hilda.
[Wavering.] If you insist on calling me Nora, I think you must be just a little mad yourself.
The New Assistant.
We are all a little mad—in Norway. But Torvald Helmer is sane enough still to recognise his own little squirrel again! Surely, Nora, your education is complete at last—you have gained the experience you needed? ”

“ Then I was a troll in that, too! But isn't it terrible the price I have had to pay for it? To have a wife who—— No, I shall never roll a pill again—never, never!
Hilda.
[Lays her head on the stove, and answers as if half asleep.] No more pills? Poor Doctor Herdal!
Dr. Herdal.
[Bitterly.] No—nothing but cosy commonplace grey powders for a whole troop of children.
Hilda.
[Lively again..] Not grey powders! [Quite seriously.] I will tell you what you shall make next. Beautiful rainbow-coloured powders that will give one a real grip on the world. ”

“ Herdal goes out; Dr. Herdal rises with difficulty, and opens the door.] Goodness gracious!—it is that girl, after all!
[Hilda Wangel enters through the dispensary door. She wears a divided skirt, thick boots, and a Tam o' Shanter with an eagle's wing in it. Somewhat freckled. Carries a green tin cylinder slung round her, and a rug in a strap. Goes straight up to Herdal, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
How are you? I've run you down, you see! The ten years are up. Isn't it scrumptiously thrilling, to see me like this?
Dr. Herdal.
[Politely retreating.] ”

“ She always believed so firmly in my pill!
Dr. Herdal.
Well—well. If it must be. Rübub, I will take you into partnership, and we will take out a patent for that pill, jointly. Aline, my poor dear Aline, let us try once more if we cannot bring a ray of brightness into our cheerless home!
Mrs. Herdal.
Oh, Haustus, if only we could—but why do you propose that to me—now?
Dr. Herdal.
[Softly—to himself.] Because I have tried being a troll—and found that nothing came of it, and it wasn't worth sixpence! ”

“ ACT FIRST A room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks in an étagère: a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from the gaselier. Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders, frogs and lizards, scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes with tall dyed grasses. A porcelain stove decorated with transferable pictures. Showily-bound books in book-case. Window. The Visitor's bell rings in the hall outside. The hall-door is heard to open, and then to shut. Presently Nora walks in with parcels; a porter carries a large Christmas-tree after her—which he puts down. ”

“ Hedda.
[Shrinking back.] Ugh, let me go, do! [Looking at Aunt Julie's hat.] Tesman, you must really tell the housemaid not to leave her old hat about on the drawing-room chairs. Oh, is it your hat? Sorry I spoke, I'm sure!
Aunt Julie.
[Annoyed.] Good gracious, little Mrs. Hedda; my nice new hat that I bought to go out walking with you in!
George.
[Patting her on the back.] Yes, Hedda, she did, and the parasol too! Fancy, Aunt Julie always positively thinks of everything, eh?
Hedda.
[Coldly.] You hold your tongue. Catch me going out walking with your aunt! One doesn't do such things. ”

“ A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for worms before long—I know I shall!
"A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best authority on the fit of silk stockings."
Nora.
You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! [She hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings; then hums a little.] I want you to do me a great service, Dr. Rank. [Rolling up stockings.] I always liked you. I love Torvald most, of course—but, somehow, I'd rather spend my time with you—you are so amusing! ”

“ HEDDA GABLER ACT FIRST Scene—A sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours. Broad doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a back drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs a posthumous portrait of the late General Gabler. On the piano is a handsome pall. Through the glass panes of the back drawing-room window are seen a dead wall and a cemetery. Settees, sofas, chairs, &c., handsomely upholstered in black bombazine, and studded with small round nails. Bouquets of immortelles and dead grasses are lying everywhere about. ”

“ Hilda.
[Nods slowly.] Yes, Torvald, you're right enough there. I have thought things out for myself, and have got clear about them. And I have quite made up my mind that Society and the Law are all wrong, and that I am right.
Helmer.
[Overjoyed.] Then you have learnt the Great Lesson, and are fit to undertake the charge of your children's education at last! You've no notion how they've grown! Yes, Nora, our marriage will be a true marriage now. You will come back to the Dolls' House, won't you? ”

“ As a lawyer, a close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have remarked that people who forge names seldom or never confide the fact to their children—which inevitably brings moral contagion into the entire family. From which it follows, logically, that Krogstad has been poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally lost. [Stretches out his hands to her.] I can't bear a morally lost Bank-cashier about me!
Nora.
But you never thought of dismissing him till Christina came!
Helmer.
H'm! I've got some business to attend to—so good-bye, little lark! ”

“ Nothing need be said in justification of a comprehensive book upon the life and work of Rembrandt. A classic among classics, he is also a modern of moderns. His works are to-day more sought after and better paid for than ever before; he is now at the zenith of a fame which can hardly decline.
The author of this work is perhaps, of all living authorities on Rembrandt, the one who has had the largest experience, the best opportunity of knowing all that can be known of the master. ”

“ Oh, it was the liveliest affair conceivable! And, like a true Norwegian host, I tracked Lövborg home; and it is only my duty, as a friend of the house, and cock of the walk, to take the first opportunity of telling you that he finished up the evening by coming to mere loggerheads with a red-haired opera-singer, and being taken off to the police-station! You mustn't have him here any more. Remember our little triple alliance!
Hedda.
[Her smile fading away.] You are certainly a dangerous person—but you must not get a hold over me!
Brack. ”

“ ACT SECOND Scene—The cheerful dark drawing-room. It is afternoon. Hedda stands loading a revolver in the back drawing-room.
Hedda.
[Looking out and shouting.] How do you do, Judge? [Aims at him.] Mind yourself!
[She fires.
Brack.
[Entering.] What the devil! Do you usually take pot-shots at casual visitors?
[Annoyed.
Hedda.
Invariably, when they come by the back-garden. It is my unconventional way of intimating that I am at home. One does do these things in realistic dramas, you know. And I was only aiming at the blue sky.
Brack.
Which accounts for the condition of my hat. [Exhibiting it.] ”

“ Bless me! to bring down the poor old cock-of-the-walk—it's unsportsmanlike!—people don't do such things as that!
[The table-cloth is violently agitated for a minute, and presently the curtains open, and Hedda appears.
Hedda.
[Clearly and firmly.] I've been trying in there to shoot myself beautifully—but with General Gabler's pistol— [She lifts the table-cloth, then looks behind the stove and under the sofa.] What! the accounts of all those everlasting bores settled? Then my suicide becomes unnecessary. Yes, I feel the courage of life once more! ”

“ ACT SECOND The room, with the cheap Art-furniture as before—except that the candles on the Christmas tree have guttered down and appear to have been lately blown out. The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are disarranged, and there are walking things on the sofa. Nora alone. ”

“ I'd no idea you would mind my mentioning such a trifle!
Rebecca.
[Breaking out.] I do mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain a few little prejudices still. I don't like owning to my real age, and I do prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information—of which I was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. Gamvik, never once alluded to it—I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced women are like that. Here is Rosmer. [Rosmer enters with his hat and stick.] Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. ”

“ Every nobleman says "Cold Punch" and follows her out in search of it with enthusiasm. Gregers approaches his father, who wishes he would go.
Gregers.
Father, a word with you in private. I loathe you. I am nothing if not candid. Old Ekdal was your partner once, and it's my firm belief you deserved a prison quite as much as he did. However, you surely need not have married our Gina to my old friend Hialmar. ”

“ I drove Beata into the mill-race.... There!
Rosmer.
[After a short silence.] H'm! Well, Kroll— [takes up his hat] —if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox once more—after this!
Kroll.
[Severely and impressively, to Rebecca.] A nice sort of young woman you are! [Both go out hastily, without looking at Rebecca.
Rebecca.
[Speaks to herself, under her breath.] Now I have done it. I wonder why. [Pulls bell-rope.] Madam Helseth, I have just had a glimpse of two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk. ”

“ Hialmar.
[Yielding.] Ah, well, I am a farcical character myself, after all. Don't touch a hair of that duck's head, Hedvig. Come to my arms and all shall be forgiven!
[Hedvig throws down the pistol—which goes off and kills a rabbit—and rushes into her father's arms. Old Ekdal comes out of a corner with a fowl on each shoulder, and bursts into tears. Affecting family picture.
Gregers.
[Annoyed.] It's all very pretty, I dare say—but it's not Ibsen! My real mission is to be the thirteenth at table. I don't know what I mean—but I fly to fulfil it! ”

“ Helmer.
[Sinking on a chair.] The room empty? Then she must be gone! Yes, my little lark has flown! [The dull sound of an unskilled latchkey is heard trying the lock; presently the door opens, and Nora, with a somewhat foolish expression, reappears.] What? back already! Then you are educated?
Nora.
[Puts down dressing-bag.] No, Torvald, not yet. Only, you see, I found I had only threepence-halfpenny in my purse, and the Norwegian theatres are all closed at this hour—and so I thought I wouldn't leave the cage till to-morrow—after breakfast. ”

“ Lövborg. Do ask him here—then I can meet him. You will? How perfectly lovely of you! My husband's so fond of him!
Hedda.
George, go and write an invitation at once; do you hear? [George looks around for his slippers, takes them up and goes out.] Now we can talk, my little Thea. Do you remember how I used to pull your hair when we met on the stairs, and say I would scorch it off? Seeing people with copious hair always does irritate me.
Mrs. Elvsted.
Goodness, yes, you were always so playful and friendly, and I was so afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've run away from my husband. ”