Henrik Ibsen

“ ASTA. Always two? Never more? Never many?
BORGHEIM. Well, you see—then it becomes a quite different matter. Miss Asta—are you sure you can never make up your mind to share gladness and success and—and labour and trouble, with one—with one alone in all the world?
ASTA. I have tried it—once.
BORGHEIM. Have you?
ASTA. Yes, all the time that my brother—that Alfred and I lived together.
BORGHEIM. Oh, with your brother, yes. But that is altogether different. That ought rather to be called peace than happiness, I should say.
ASTA. It was delightful, all the same. ”

“ I have begun to believe in the evil eye. Especially in a child's evil eye.
ALLMERS. [Shocked, whispers.] Rita—how can you—?
RITA. [Speaking low.] It is you that make me so wicked and hateful, Alfred.
[Confused cries and shrieks are heard in the distance, from the direction of the fiord.]
BORGHEIM. [Going to the glass door.] What noise is that?
ASTA. [In the doorway.] Look at all those people running down to the pier!
ALLMERS. What can it be? [Looks out for a moment.] No doubt it's those street urchins at some mischief again.
BORGHEIM. [Calls, leaning over the verandah railings.] ”

“ RITA. [Whispers.] The crutch.
ALLMERS. Yes, that. And now, what we now call sorrow and heartache—is really the gnawing of conscience, Rita. Nothing else.
RITA. [Gazing helplessly at him.] I feel as if all this must end in despair—in madness for both of us. For we can never—never make it good again.
ALLMERS. [Passing into a calmer mood.] I dreamed about Eyolf last night. I thought I saw him coming up from the pier. He could run like other boys. So nothing had happened to him—neither the one thing nor the other. And the torturing reality was nothing but a dream, I thought. ”

“ RITA. But it was there that Eyolf—! How can they moor her there!
ALLMERS. Yes, life is pitiless, Rita.
RITA. Men are heartless. They take no thought—whether for the living or for the dead.
ALLMERS. There you are right. Life goes its own way—just as if nothing in the world had happened.
RITA. [Gazing straight before her.] And nothing has happened, either. Not to others. Only to us two.
ALLMERS. [The pain re-awakening.] Yes, Rita—so it was to no purpose that you bore him in sorrow and anguish. For now he is gone again—and has left no trace behind him.
RITA. Only the crutch was saved. ”

“ ASTA. [Shrieking and stopping her ears.] Alfred!
ALLMERS. [Clenching his hand firmly upon the table.] Can you conceive the meaning of a thing like this?
ASTA. [Looks at him.] Of what?
ALLMERS. Of this that has been done to Rita and me.
ASTA. The meaning of it?
ALLMERS. [Impatiently.] Yes, the meaning, I say. For, after all, there must be a meaning in it. Life, existence—destiny, cannot be so utterly meaningless.
ASTA. Oh, who can say anything with certainty about these things, my dear Alfred?
ALLMERS. [Laughs bitterly.] No, no; I believe you are right there. ”

“ RITA. [In dread, recoiling from him.] Let me be, Alfred! I am afraid of you. I have never seen you like this before.
ALLMERS. [Looks harshly and coldly at her.] Sorrow makes us wicked and hateful.
RITA. [Terrified, and yet defiant.] That is what I feel, too.
[ALLMERS goes towards the right and looks out over the fiord. RITA seats herself at the table. A short pause.]
ALLMERS. [Turning his head towards her.] You never really and truly loved him—never!
RITA. [With cold self-control.] Eyolf would never let me take him really and truly to my heart. ”

“ ALLMERS. She has drawn him down into the depths—that you may be sure of, dear.
ASTA. But, Alfred, why should she?
ALLMERS. Yes, that is just the question! Why should she? There is no retribution behind it all—no atonement, I mean. Eyolf never did her any harm. He never called names after her; he never threw stones at her dog. Why, he had never set eyes either on her or her dog till yesterday. So there is no retribution; the whole thing is utterly groundless and meaningless, Asta.—And yet the order of the world requires it.
ASTA. Have you spoken to Rita of these things? ”

“ RITA. [Rising.] But, Alfred dear, can you not work both for yourself and for Eyolf?
ALLMERS. No, I cannot. It is impossible! I cannot divide myself in this matter—and therefore I efface myself. Eyolf shall be the complete man of our race. And it shall be my new life-work to make him the complete man.
ASTA. [Has risen and now goes up to him.] This must have cost you a terribly hard struggle, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes, it has. At home here, I should never have conquered myself, never brought myself to the point of renunciation. Never at home! ”

“ 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, what you write is worth a great deal! ”

“ You ought most of all to be glad that you have Rita.
ALLMERS. Yes, of course I should. But Rita is no kin to me—it isn't like having a sister.
ASTA. [Eagerly.] Do you say that, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes, our family is a thing apart. [Half jestingly.] We have always had vowels for our initials. Don't you remember how often we used to speak of that? And all our relations—all equally poor. And we have all the same colour of eyes.
ASTA. Do you think I have—?
ALLMERS. No, you take entirely after your mother. You are not in the least like the rest of us—not even like father. ”

“ Well, Asta, have you and Mr. Borgheim talked things thoroughly over?
ASTA. Oh, yes—pretty well.
[She puts down her umbrella and lays the flowers upon a chair.]
BORGHEIM. Miss Allmers has been very silent during our walk.
RITA. Indeed, has she? Well, Alfred and I have talked things out thoroughly enough—
ASTA. [Looking eagerly at both of them.] What is this—?
RITA. Enough to last all our lifetime, I say. [Breaking off.] Come now, let us go up to the house, all four of us. We must have company about us in future. It will never do for Alfred and me to be alone. ”

“ Like accomplices in crime, they turn upon and accuse each other—"sorrow makes them wicked and hateful." Allmers, as the one whose eyes were already half opened, is the first to carry war into the enemy's country; but Rita is not slow to retort, and presently they both have to admit that their recriminations are only a vain attempt to drown the voice of self-reproach. In a sort of fierce frenzy they tear away veil after veil from their souls, until they realise that Eyolf never existed at all, so to speak, for his own sake, but only for the sake of their passions and vanities. ”

“ 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. [To RITA.] 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. ”

“ RITA. [Exasperated.] Alfred! Alfred—this is intolerable of you!
ALLMERS. [In a low voice, clenching his fists before her face.] In that hour you condemned little Eyolf to death.
RITA. [Wildly.] You, too! You, too—if it is as you say!
ALLMERS. Oh yes—call me to account, too—if you will. We have sinned, both of us. And so, after all, there was retribution in Eyolf's death.
RITA. Retribution?
ALLMERS. [With more self-control.] Yes. Judgment upon you and me. Now, as we stand here, we have our deserts. While he lived, we let ourselves shrink away from him in secret, abject remorse. ”

“ The consuming fire of passion is now quenched, but "it, has left an empty place within them," and they feel it common need "to fill it up with something that is a little like love." They come to remember that there are other children in the world on whom reckless instinct has thrust the gift, of life—neglected children, stunted and maimed in mind if not in body. And now that her egoism is seared to the quick, the mother-instinct asserts itself in Rita. ”

“ 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, leading EYOLF by 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. EYOLF wears a suit cut like a uniform, with gold braid and gilt military buttons. He is lame, and walks with a crutch under his left arm. His leg is shrunken. He is undersized, and looks delicate, but has beautiful intelligent eyes.] ”

“ Finally he breaks away from Rita, for the first time "in all these ten years," goes up "into the infinite solitudes," looks Death in the face, and returns shrinking from passion, yearning towards selfless love, and filled with a profound and remorseful pity for the lot of poor maimed humanity. He will "help Eyolf to bring his desires into harmony with what lies attainable before him." He will "create a conscious happiness in his mind." ”

“ In this view, Allmers becomes a type of what we may roughly call the "free moral agent"; Eyolf, a type of humanity conceived as passive and suffering, thrust will-less into existence, with boundless aspirations and cruelly limited powers; Rita, a type of the egoistic instinct which is "a consuming fire"; and Asta, a type of the beneficent love which is possible only so long as it is exempt from "the law of change." Allmers, then, is self-conscious egoism, egoism which can now and then break its chains, look in its own visage, realise and shrink from itself ”

“ RITA. Yes, in our little Eyolf's place. They shall live in Eyolf's rooms. They shall read his books. They shall play with his toys. They shall take it in turns to sit in his chair at table.
ALLMERS. But this is sheer madness in you! I do not know a creature in the world that is less fitted than you for anything of that sort.
RITA. Then I shall have to educate myself for it; to train myself; to discipline myself.
ALLMERS. If you are really in earnest about this—about all you say—then there must indeed be a change in you.
RITA. Yes, there is, Alfred—and for that I have you to thank. ”

“ ALLMERS. He will never be found.
RITA. But what is it then?
ALLMERS. [Coming forward.] Only fighting—as usual.
RITA. Down on the beach?
ALLMERS. Yes. The whole village down there ought to be swept away. Now the men have come home—drunk, as they always are. They are beating the children—do you hear the boys crying! The women are shrieking for help for them—
RITA. Should we not get someone to go down and help them?
ALLMERS. [Harshly and angrily.] Help them, who did not help Eyolf! Let them go—as they let Eyolf go.
RITA. Oh, you must not talk like that, Alfred! ”

“ RITA. Aha, then perhaps you have something still more exquisite in reserve!
BORGHEIM. [Glancing towards ASTA.] Who knows! When once happiness comes to us, it is apt to come like a spring flood. [Turns to ASTA.] Miss Allmers, would you not like to take a little walk with me? As we used to? ”

“ The offspring and the victim of these egoisms is Eyolf, "little wounded warrior," who longs to scale the heights and dive into the depths, but must remain for ever chained to the crutch of human infirmity. For years Allmers has been a restless and half-reluctant slave to Rita's imperious temperament. ”

“ ALLMERS. [Vehemently.] Ah? Perhaps you can unravel the mystery for me? I certainly cannot. [More gently.] Here is Eyolf, just entering upon conscious life: full of such infinite possibilities—splendid possibilities perhaps: he would have filled my life with pride and gladness. And then a crazy old woman has only to come this way—and show a cur in a bag—
ASTA. But we don't in the least know how it really happened.
ALLMERS. Yes, we do. The boys saw her row out over the fiord. They saw Eyolf standing alone at the very end of the pier. ”

“ ALLMERS. [Looking out over the railing.] Now they are on board, Rita. Now the steamer is on her way to the town.
RITA. Is it possible you do not hear it? "The crútch is—flóating. The crútch is ———"
ALLMERS. [Coming forward.] You shall not stand there listening to a sound that does not exist. I tell you, Asta and Borgheim are on board. They have started already. Asta is gone.
RITA. [Looks timidly at him.] Then I suppose you will soon be gone, too, Alfred? ”

“ 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. ”

“ ASTA. [With decision.] We cannot, Alfred.
ALLMERS. Yes, we can. For the love of a brother and sister—
ASTA. [Eagerly.] What of it?
ALLMERS. That is the only relation in life that is not subject to the law of change.
ASTA. [Softly and tremblingly.] But if that relation were not—
ALLMERS. Not—?
ASTA.—not our relation?
ALLMERS. [Stares at her in astonishment.] Not ours? Why, what can you mean by that?
ASTA. It is best I should tell you at once, Alfred.
ALLMERS. Yes, yes; tell me!
ASTA. The letters to mother—. Those in my portfolio—
ALLMERS. Well? ”

“ 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. ”