Henrik Ibsen

“ MRS. ELVSTED.
[Terrified.] Hedda—oh Hedda—!
HEDDA.
You can see for yourself! You haven't the slightest reason to be in such mortal terror— [Interrupting herself.] There! Now we can all three enjoy ourselves!
LOVBORG.
[Who has given a start.] Ah—what is all this, Mrs. Tesman?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh my God, Hedda! What are you saying? What are you doing?
HEDDA.
Don't get excited! That horrid Judge Brack is sitting watching you. ”

“ TESMAN.
Oh, for heaven's sake, tell us!
BRACK.
[Shrugging his shoulders.] Well, I regret to say Eilert Lovborg has been taken to the hospital. He is lying at the point of death.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Shrieks.] Oh God! oh God—!
TESMAN.
To the hospital! And at the point of death!
HEDDA.
[Involuntarily.] So soon then—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Wailing.] And we parted in anger, Hedda!
HEDDA.
[Whispers.] Thea—Thea—be careful!
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Not heeding her.] I must go to him! I must see him alive!
BRACK.
It is useless, Madam. No one will be admitted. ”

“ MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh yes, at least let us try—
TESMAN.
We will manage it! We must! I will dedicate my life to this task.
HEDDA.
You, George? Your life?
TESMAN.
Yes, or rather all the time I can spare. My own collections must wait in the meantime. Hedda—you understand, eh? I owe this to Eilert's memory.
HEDDA.
Perhaps.
TESMAN.
And so, my dear Mrs. Elvsted, we will give our whole minds to it. There is no use in brooding over what can't be undone—eh? We must try to control our grief as much as possible, and—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can. ”

“ MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes. Being sheriff, you know, he has to travel about a good deal in his district.
HEDDA.
[Leaning against the arm of the chair.] Thea—my poor, sweet Thea—now you must tell me everything—exactly as it stands.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Well, then you must question me.
HEDDA.
What sort of a man is your husband, Thea? I mean—you know—in everyday life. Is he kind to you?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Evasively.] I am sure he means well in everything.
HEDDA.
I should think he must be altogether too old for you. There is at least twenty years' difference between you, is there not? ”

“ BRACK.
That was what everybody thought.
TESMAN.
But I cannot imagine what he will take to now! How in the world will he be able to make his living? Eh?
[During the last words, HEDDA has entered by the hall door.
HEDDA.
[To BRACK, laughing with a touch of scorn.] Tesman is for ever worrying about how people are to make their living.
TESMAN.
Well you see, dear—we were talking about poor Eilert Lovborg.
HEDDA.
[Glancing at him rapidly.] Oh, indeed? [Sets herself in the arm-chair beside the stove and asks indifferently:] What is the matter with him? ”

“ HEDDA.
No, not quite.
LOVBORG.
What was you motive, then?
HEDDA.
Do think it quite incomprehensible that a young girl—when it can be done—without any one knowing—
LOVBORG.
Well?
HEDDA.
—should be glad to have a peep, now and then, into a world which—?
LOVBORG.
Which—?
HEDDA.
—which she is forbidden to know anything about?
LOVBORG.
So that was it?
HEDDA.
Partly. Partly—I almost think.
LOVBORG.
Comradeship in the thirst for life. But why should not that, at any rate, have continued?
HEDDA.
The fault was yours. ”

“ And I say, too, the way he smiled and glanced at Tesman when you dared not accept his invitation to this wretched little supper-party of his.
LOVBORG.
Dared not! Do you say I dared not?
HEDDA.
I don't say so. But that was how Judge Brack understood it.
LOVBORG.
Well, let him.
HEDDA.
Then you are not going with them?
LOVBORG.
I will stay here with you and Thea.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, Hedda—how can you doubt that?
HEDDA.
[Smiles and nods approvingly to LOVBORG.] Firm as a rock! Faithful to your principles, now and for ever! Ah, that is how a man should be! ”

“ It gives me a sense of freedom to know that a deed of deliberate courage is still possible in this world,—a deed of spontaneous beauty.
BRACK.
[Smiling.] H'm—my dear Mrs. Hedda—
HEDDA.
Oh, I know what you are going to say. For you are a kind of specialist too, like—you know!
BRACK.
[Looking hard at her.] Eilert Lovborg was more to you than perhaps you are willing to admit to yourself. Am I wrong?
HEDDA.
I don't answer such questions. I only know that Eilert Lovborg has had the courage to live his life after his own fashion. And then—the last great act, with its beauty! Ah! ”

“ BRACK.
Why—what satisfaction could you find in that? If he is not fitted for that sort of thing, why should you want to drive him into it?
HEDDA.
Because I am bored, I tell you! [After a pause.] So you think it quite out of the question that Tesman should ever get into the ministry?
BRACK.
H'm—you see, my dear Mrs. Hedda—to get into the ministry, he would have to be a tolerably rich man.
HEDDA.
[Rising impatiently.] Yes, there we have it! It is this genteel poverty I have managed to drop into—! [Crosses the room.] That is what makes life so pitiable! ”

“ HEDDA.
Yes, I have. I want for once in my life to have power to mould a human destiny.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Have you not the power?
HEDDA.
I have not—and have never had it.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Not your husband's?
HEDDA.
Do you think that is worth the trouble? Oh, if you could only understand how poor I am. And fate has made you so rich! [Clasps her passionately in her arms.] I think I must burn your hair off after all.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Let me go! Let me go! I am afraid of you, Hedda!
BERTA.
[In the middle doorway.] Tea is laid in the dining-room, ma'am. ”

“ HEDDA.
That is stupid of you.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Shakes her head.] It cannot be otherwise—not with him. I don't think he really cares for any one but himself—and perhaps a little for the children.
HEDDA.
And for Eilert Lovborg, Thea?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Looking at her.] For Eilert Lovborg? What puts that into your head?
HEDDA.
Well, my dear—I should say, when he sends you after him all the way to town— [Smiling almost imperceptibly.] And besides, you said so yourself, to Tesman.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[With a little nervous twitch.] Did I? Yes, I suppose I did. ”

“ Yes, so that Hedda needn't be ashamed of me if we happened to go out together.
TESMAN.
[Patting her cheek.] You always think of everything, Aunt Julia. [Lays the bonnet on a chair beside the table.] And now, look here—suppose we sit comfortably on the sofa and have a little chat, till Hedda comes.
[They seat themselves. She places her parasol in the corner of the sofa.
MISS TESMAN.
[Takes both his hands and looks at him.] What a delight it is to have you again, as large as life, before my very eyes, George! My George—my poor brother's own boy! ”

“ HEDDA.
Yes, I hear he found inspiration.
BRACK.
Pretty violent inspiration. Well, I fancy that altered his purpose; for we menfolk are unfortunately not always so firm in our principles as we ought to be.
HEDDA.
Oh, I am sure you are an exception, Judge Brack. But as to Lovborg—?
BRACK.
To make a long story short—he landed at last in Mademoiselle Diana's rooms.
HEDDA.
Mademoiselle Diana's?
BRACK.
It was Mademoiselle Diana that was giving the soiree, to a select circle of her admirers and her lady friends.
HEDDA.
Is she a red-haired woman? ”

“ Grant Allen's remark, above quoted, was, of course, a whimsical exaggeration; the Hedda type is not so common as all that, else the world would quickly come to an end. But particular traits and tendencies of the Hedda type are very common in modern life, and not only among women. Hyperaesthesia lies at the root of her tragedy. With a keenly critical, relentlessly solvent intelligence, she combines a morbid shrinking from all the gross and prosaic detail of the sensual life. She has nothing to take her out of herself—not a single intellectual interest or moral enthusiasm. ”

“ MRS. ELVSTED.
[Quickly, holding out her hand.] A letter! Give it to me!
BERTA.
No, it's for Dr. Tesman, ma'am.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, indeed.
BERTA.
It was Miss Tesman's servant that brought it. I'll lay it here on the table.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, do.
BERTA.
[Laying down the letter.] I think I had better put out the lamp. It's smoking.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, put it out. It must soon be daylight now.
BERTA.
[Putting out the lamp.] It is daylight already, ma'am.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, broad day! And no one come back yet—! ”

“ She ruins the other woman's happiness, but in doing so incurs a danger from which her sense of personal dignity revolts. Life has no such charm for her that she cares to purchase it at the cost of squalid humiliation and self-contempt. The good and the bad in her alike impel her to have done with it all; and a pistol-shot ends what is surely one of the most poignant character-tragedies in literature. ”

“ Some critics have been greatly troubled as to the precise meaning of Hedda's fantastic vision of Lovborg "with vine-leaves in his hair." Surely this is a very obvious image or symbol of the beautiful, the ideal, aspect of bacchic elation and revelry. Antique art, or I am much mistaken, shows us many figures of Dionysus himself and his followers with vine-leaves entwined their hair. To Ibsen's mind, at any rate, the image had long been familiar. ”

“ BRACK.
[Looks half-mockingly at her.] People generally get used to the inevitable.
HEDDA.
[Returns his look.] Yes, perhaps. [She crosses to the writing-table. Suppressing an involuntary smile, she imitates TESMAN'S intonations.] Well? Are you getting on, George? Eh?
TESMAN.
Heaven knows, dear. In any case it will be the work of months.
HEDDA.
[As before.] Fancy that! [Passes her hands softly through Mrs. Elvsted's hair.] Doesn't it seem strange to you, Thea? Here are you sitting with Tesman—just as you used to sit with Eilert Lovborg? ”

“ The attempt to place Hedda's vine-leaves among Ibsen's obscurities is an example of the firm resolution not to understand which animated the criticism of the 'nineties.
Dr. Brandes has dealt very severely with the character of Eilert Lovborg, alleging that we cannot believe in the genius attributed to him. But where is he described as a genius? The poet represents him as a very able student of sociology; but that is quite a different thing from attributing to him such genius as must necessarily shine forth in every word he utters. ”

“ But though Tesman is a ninny, he is, as Hedda says, a "specialist"—he is a competent, plodding student of his subject. Lovborg may quite naturally wish to see how his new method, or his excursion into a new field, strikes the average scholar of the Tesman type. He is, in fact, "trying it on the dog"—neither an unreasonable nor an unusual proceeding. There is, no doubt, a certain improbability in the way in which Lovborg is represented as carrying his manuscript around, and especially in Mrs. Elvsted's production of his rough draft from her pocket ”

“ There's a gentleman asking if you are at home, ma'am—
HEDDA.
Well, show him in.
TESMAN.
[Softly.] I'm sure it is he! Fancy that!
EILERT LOVBORG enters from the hall. He is slim and lean; of the same age as TESMAN, but looks older and somewhat worn-out. His hair and beard are of a blackish brown, his face long and pale, but with patches of colour on the cheeks. He is dressed in a well-cut black visiting suit, quite new. He has dark gloves and a silk hat. He stops near the door, and makes a rapid bow, seeming somewhat embarrassed. ”

“ GEORGE TESMAN comes from the right into the inner room, humming to himself, and carrying an unstrapped empty portmanteau. He is a middle-sized, young-looking man of thirty-three, rather stout, with a round, open, cheerful face, fair hair and beard. ”

“ The intelligent forecasting of the future (as Mr. H. G. Wells has shown) is not only clearly distinguishable from fantastic Utopianism, but is indispensable to any large statesmanship or enlightened social activity. With very real and very great respect for Dr. Brandes, I cannot think that he has been fortunate in his treatment of Lovborg's character. It has been represented as an absurdity that he would think of reading abstracts from his new book to a man like Tesman, whom he despises. ”

“ Oh, be quiet, I tell you!—I often think there is only one thing in the world I have any turn for.
BRACK.
[Drawing near to her.] And what is that, if I may ask?
HEDDA.
[Stands looking out.] Boring myself to death. Now you know it. [Turns, looks towards the inner room, and laughs.] Yes, as I thought! Here comes the Professor.
BRACK.
[Softly, in a tone of warning.] Come, come, come, Mrs. Hedda!
GEORGE TESMAN, dressed for the party, with his gloves and hat in his hand, enters from the right through the inner room.
TESMAN.
Hedda, has no message come from Eilert Lovborg? Eh? ”

“ HEDDA goes up to the glass door and draws back the curtains. The broad daylight streams into the room. Then she takes a little hand-glass from the writing-table, looks at herself in it, and arranges her hair. Next she goes to the hall door and presses the bell-button. BERTA presently appears at the hall door.
BERTA.
Did you want anything, ma'am?
HEDDA.
Yes; you must put some more wood in the stove. I am shivering. ”

“ I'm longing to cut the leaves—! And then I must change my clothes. [To BRACK.] I suppose we needn't start just yet? Eh?
BRACK.
Oh, dear no—there is not the slightest hurry.
TESMAN.
Well then, I will take my time. [Is going with his books, but stops in the doorway and turns.] By-the-bye, Hedda—Aunt Julia is not coming this evening.
HEDDA.
Not coming? Is it that affair of the bonnet that keeps her away?
TESMAN.
Oh, not at all. How could you think such a thing of Aunt Julia? Just fancy—! The fact is, Aunt Rina is very ill.
HEDDA.
She always is. ”

“ At the same time she learns that another woman has had the courage to love and venture all, where she, in her cowardice, only hankered and refrained. Her malign egoism rises up uncontrolled, and calls to its aid her quick and subtle intellect. ”

“ The circumstances under which Hedda burns Lovborg's manuscript are, of course, entirely different and infinitely more dramatic; but here we have merely another instance of the dramatisation or "poetisation" of the raw material of life. Again, a still more painful incident probably came to his knowledge about the same time. A beautiful and very intellectual woman was married to a well-known man who had been addicted to drink, but had entirely conquered the vice. ”