Henrik Ibsen

“ SOLNESS.
Too late. These powers—these—these—
HILDA. —devils—
SOLNESS.
Yes, these devils! And the troll within me as well—they have drawn all the life-blood out of her. [Laughs in desperation.] They did it for my happiness! Yes, yes! [Sadly.] And now she is dead—for my sake. And I am chained alive to a dead woman. [In wild anguish.] I—I who cannot live without joy in life!
[HILDA moves round the table and seats herself on the bench, with her elbows on the table, and her head supported by her hands. HILDA.
[Sits and looks at him awhile.] What will you build next? ”

“ BROVIK.
[Rise with difficulty.] Then I am to pass out of life without any certainty? Without a gleam of happiness? Without any faith or trust in Ragnar? Without having seen a single piece of work of his doing? Is that to be the way of it?
SOLNESS.
[Turns half aside, and mutters.] H'm—don't ask more just now.
BROVIK.
I must have an answer to this one question. Am I to pass out of life in such utter poverty?
SOLNESS.
[Seems to struggle with himself; finally he says, in a low but firm voice:] You must pass out of life as best you can. ”

“ HILDA.
[Rises with vehemence, and makes a gesture of repulsion with her hand.] Yes, to be sure it is! Castles in the air—they are so easy to build, too— [looks scornfully at him] —especially for the builders who have a—a dizzy conscience.
SOLNESS.
[Rises.] After this day we two will build together, Hilda.
HILDA.
[With a half-dubious smile.] A real castle in the air?
SOLNESS.
Yes. One with a firm foundation under it.
RAGNAR BROVIK comes out from the house. He is carrying a large green wreath with flowers and silk ribbons. HILDA.
[With an outburst of pleasure.] The wreath! ”

“ HILDA.
Just like a troll—yes.
SOLNESS.
And make a princess of you?
HILDA.
That's what you promised.
SOLNESS.
And give you a kingdom as well?
HILDA.
[Looks up at the ceiling.] Why not? Of course it need not have been an actual, every-day sort of a kingdom.
SOLNESS.
But something else just as good?
HILDA.
Yes, at least as good. [Looks at him a moment.] I thought, if you could build the highest church-towers in the world, you could surely manage to raise a kingdom of one sort or another as well.
SOLNESS.
[Shakes his head.] I can't quite make you out, Miss Wangel. ”

“ HILDA.
But I don't see that—
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, no, no, Miss Wangel—do not talk to me any more about the two little boys. We ought to feel nothing but joy in thinking of them; for they are so happy—so happy now. No, it is the small losses in life that cut one to the heart—the loss of all that other people look upon as almost nothing.
HILDA.
[Lays her arms on MRS. SOLNESS'S knees, and looks up at her affectionately.] Dear Mrs. Solness—tell me what things you mean! ”

“ MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, do!—No, no—don't say that I want anything! You can say that somebody is here, and that he must come at once.
RAGNAR.
Good. I will do so, Mrs. Solness.
[He goes down the flight of steps and away through the garden. MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, Miss Wangel, you can't think how anxious I feel about him.
HILDA.
Is there anything in this to be terribly frightened about?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes; surely you can understand. Just think, if he were really to do it! If he should take it into his head to climb up the scaffolding!
HILDA.
[Eagerly.] Do you think he will? ”

“ SOLNESS.
[Softly, with emotion.] For building up the souls of little children, Hilda. For building up children's souls in perfect balance, and in noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect and full-grown human souls. That was Aline's talent. And there it all lies now—unused and unusable for ever—of no earthly service to any one—just like the ruins left by a fire. ”

“ BROVIK.
In case you thought that Ragnar's drawings—
SOLNESS.
I! Retire in favour of your son!
BROVIK.
Retire from the agreement, they meant.
SOLNESS.
Oh, it comes to the same thing. [Laughs angrily.] So that is it, is it? Halvard Solness is to see about retiring now! To make room for younger men! For the very youngest, perhaps! He must make room! Room! Room!
BROVIK.
Why, good heavens! there is surely room for more than one single man—
SOLNESS.
Oh, there's not so very much room to spare either. But, be that as it may—I will never retire! I will never give way to anybody! ”

“ HILDA.
What did you want with me?
SOLNESS.
You are the younger generation, Hilda.
HILDA.
[Smiles.] That younger generation that you are so afraid of?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] And which, in my heart, I yearn towards so deeply.
[HILDA rises, goes to the little table, and fetches RAGNAR BROVIK'S portfolio. HILDA.
[Holds out the portfolio to him.] We were talking of these drawings—
SOLNESS.
[Shortly, waving them away.] Put those things away! I have seen enough of them. ”

“ He is not afraid of robbing others of their happiness—as he has done both for my father and me. But when it comes to climbing up a paltry bit of scaffolding—he will do anything rather than that.
HILDA.
Oh, you should just have seen him high, high up—at the dizzy height where I once saw him.
RAGNAR.
Did you see that?
HILDA.
Yes, indeed I did. How free and great he looked as he stood and fastened the wreath to the church vane!
RAGNAR.
I know that he ventured that, once in his life—one solitary time. It is a legend among us younger men. ”

“ SOLNESS.
But not such a good thing for me. For then I shall have nobody to help me.
HILDA.
Can't you get hold of some one else who will do just as well?
SOLNESS.
Perhaps you would stay here and—and write in the ledger?
HILDA.
[Measures him with a glance.] Yes, I daresay! No, thank you—nothing of that sort for me.
[She again strolls across the room, and sits down on the rocking-chair. SOLNESS too goes to the table. HILDA.
[Continuing.] For there must surely be plenty of other thing to be done here. [Looks smilingly at him.] Don't you think so, too? ”

“ He is the younger generation that stands ready to knock at my door—to make an end of Halvard Solness.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with quiet reproach.] And yet you would bar him out. Fie, Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
The fight I have been fighting has cost heart's blood enough.—And I am afraid, too, that the helpers and servers will not obey me any longer.
HILDA.
Then you must go ahead without them. There is nothing else for it.
SOLNESS.
It is hopeless, Hilda. The luck is bound to turn. A little sooner or a little later. Retribution is inexorable. ”

“ HILDA.
[Leaping up.] Yes, yes, you did!
SOLNESS.
And when I stood there, high over everything, and was hanging the wreath over the vane, I said to him: Hear me now, thou Mighty One! From this day forward I will be a free builder—I too, in my sphere—just as thou in thine. I will never more build churches for thee—only homes for human beings. ”

“ MRS. SOLNESS.
I ought to be pleased; for it is what Halvard wants—
HILDA.
Oh, not just on that account, surely?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, yes, Miss Wangel; for it is only my duty to submit myself to him. But very often it is dreadfully difficult to force one's mind to obedience.
HILDA.
Yes, that must be difficult indeed.
MRS. SOLNESS.
I can tell you it is—when one has so many faults as I have—
HILDA.
When one has gone through so much trouble as you have—
MRS. SOLNESS.
How do you know about that? ”

“ SOLNESS.
[Flaring up.] Don't care! Who dares to say that?
BROVIK.
You said so yourself just now.
SOLNESS.
Oh, never mind what I say.—Would they give Ragnar the building of that villa?
BROVIK.
Yes. You see, he knows the family. And then—just for the fun of the thing—he has made drawings and estimates and so forth—
SOLNESS.
Are they pleased with the drawings? The people who will have to live in the house?
BROVIK.
Yes. If you would only look through them and approve of them—
SOLNESS.
Then they would let Ragnar build their home for them? ”

“ HILDA.
[With uncontrollable vehemence.] I will se it! I will and I must see it!
RAGNAR.
But he will not do it. He simply dare not do it. For you see he cannot get over this infirmity—master builder though he be.
MRS. SOLNESS comes from the house on to the verandah. MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looks around.] Is he not here? Where has he gone to?
RAGNAR.
Mr. Solness is down with the men.
HILDA.
He took the wreath with him.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Terrified.] Took the wreath with him! Oh God! oh God! Brovik—you must go down to him! Get him to come back here! ”

“ His little model had had a great deal of heart and of womanly understanding; and thanks to the spontaneous power she could gain over him, every woman might, if she wished it, guide some man towards the good. "Thus Ibsen spoke," says Elias, "calmly and coolly, gazing as it were into the far distance, like an artist taking an objective view of some experience—like Lubek speaking of his soul-thefts. He had stolen a soul, and put it to a double employment. Thea Elvsted and Hilda Wangel are intimately related—are, indeed only different expressions of the same nature." ”

“ RAGNAR.
[Rising.] Yes, the young couple who want a villa built, out at Lovstrand.
SOLNESS.
[Growling.] Oh, those two! They must wait. I am not quite clear about the plans yet.
RAGNAR.
[Advancing, with some hesitation.] They were very anxious to have the drawings at once.
SOLNESS.
[As before.] Yes, of course—so they all are.
BROVIK.
[Looks up.] They say they are longing so to get into a house of their own.
SOLNESS.
Yes, yes—we know all that! And so they are content to take whatever is offered them. They get a—a roof over their heads—an address—but nothing to call a home. ”

“ Do you want to kill me? To take from me what is more than my life?
SOLNESS.
And what is that?
HILDA.
The longing to see you great. To see you, with a wreath in your hand, high, high up upon a church-tower. [Calm again.] Come, out with your pencil now. You must have a pencil about you?
SOLNESS.
[Takes out his pocket-book.] I have one here.
HILDA.
[Lays the portfolio on the sofa-table.] Very well. Now let us two sit down here, Mr. Solness. [SOLNESS seats himself at the table. HILDA stands behind him, leaning over the back of the chair.] And now we well write on the drawings. ”

“ HILDA.
Yes, but if it is all the work of these helpers and servers—?
SOLNESS.
Who called for the helpers and servers? It was I! And they came and obeyed my will. [In increasing excitement.] That is what people call having the luck on your side; but I must tell you what this sort of luck feels like! It feels like a great raw place here on my breast. And the helpers and servers keep on flaying pieces of skin off other people in order to close my sore!—But still the sore is not healed—never, never! Oh, if you knew how it can sometimes gnaw and burn! ”

“ Ibsen too was in all essentials self-taught; his philosophy was entirely unsystematic; and, like Solness, he was no student of books. There may be an introspective note also in that dread of the younger generation to which Solness confesses. It is certain that the old Master-Builder was not lavish of his certificates of competence to young aspirants, though there is nothing to show that his reticence ever depressed or quenched any rising genius.
On the whole, then, it cannot be doubted that several symbolic motives are inwoven into the iridescent fabric of the play. ”

“ A greater contrast could scarcely be imagined than that between the hard, cold, precise outlines of Hedda Gabler and the vague mysterious atmosphere of The Master Builder, in which, though the dialogue is sternly restrained within the limits of prose, the art of drama seems for ever on the point of floating away to blend with the art of music. Substantially, the play is one long dialogue between Solness and Hilda ”