Hedda Gabler - Henrik Ibsen (black books to read txt) 📗
- Author: Henrik Ibsen
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BRACK.
No, no, I daresay not. But suppose now that what people call—in elegant language—a solemn responsibility were to come upon you? [Smiling.] A new responsibility, Mrs. Hedda?
HEDDA.
[Angrily.] Be quiet! Nothing of that sort will ever happen!
BRACK.
[Warily.] We will speak of this again a year hence—at the very outside.
HEDDA.
[Curtly.] I have no turn for anything of the sort, Judge Brack. No responsibilities for me!
BRACK.
Are you so unlike the generality of women as to have no turn for duties which—?
HEDDA.
[Beside the glass door.] 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!
in his hand, enters from the right through the inner room.
TESMAN.
Hedda, has no message come from Eilert Lovborg? Eh?
HEDDA.
No.
TESMAN.
Then you'll see he'll be here presently.
BRACK.
Do you really think he will come?
TESMAN.
Yes, I am almost sure of it. For what you were telling us this morning must have been a mere floating rumour.
BRACK.
You think so?
TESMAN.
At any rate, Aunt Julia said she did not believe for a moment that he would ever stand in my way again. Fancy that!
BRACK.
Well then, that's all right.
TESMAN.
[Placing his hat and gloves on a chair on the right.] Yes, but you must really let me wait for him as long as possible.
BRACK.
We have plenty of time yet. None of my guests will arrive before seven or half-past.
TESMAN.
Then meanwhile we can keep Hedda company, and see what happens. Eh?
HEDDA.
[Placing BRACK'S hat and overcoat upon the corner settee.] And at the worst Mr. Lovborg can remain here with me.
BRACK.
[Offering to take his things.] Oh, allow me, Mrs. Tesman!—What do you mean by "At the worst"?
HEDDA.
If he won't go with you and Tesman.
TESMAN.
[Looks dubiously at her.] But, Hedda dear—do you think it would quite do for him to remain here with you? Eh? Remember, Aunt Julia can't come.
HEDDA.
No, but Mrs. Elvsted is coming. We three can have a cup of tea together.
TESMAN.
Oh yes, that will be all right.
BRACK.
[Smiling.] And that would perhaps be the safest plan for him.
HEDDA.
Why so?
BRACK.
Well, you know, Mrs. Tesman, how you used to gird at my little bachelor parties. You declared they were adapted only for men of the strictest principles.
HEDDA.
But no doubt Mr. Lovborg's principles are strict enough now. A converted sinner— [BERTA appears at the hall door.
BERTA.
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!
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.
TESMAN.
[Goes up to him and shakes him warmly by the hand.] Well, my dear Eilert—so at last we meet again!
EILERT LOVBORG.
[Speaks in a subdued voice.] Thanks for your letter, Tesman. [Approaching HEDDA.] Will you too shake hands with me, Mrs. Tesman?
HEDDA.
[Taking his hand.] I am glad to see you, Mr. Lovborg. [With a motion of her hand.] I don't know whether you two gentlemen—?
LOVBORG.
[Bowing slightly.] Judge Brack, I think.
BRACK.
[Doing likewise.] Oh yes,—in the old days—
TESMAN.
[To LOVBORG, with his hands on his shoulders.] And now you must make yourself entirely at home, Eilert! Mustn't he, Hedda?—For I hear you are going to settle in town again? Eh?
LOVBORG.
Yes, I am.
TESMAN.
Quite right, quite right. Let me tell you, I have got hold of your new book; but I haven't had time to read it yet.
LOVBORG.
You may spare yourself the trouble.
TESMAN.
Why so?
LOVBORG.
Because there is very little in it.
TESMAN.
Just fancy—how can you say so?
BRACK.
But it has been very much praised, I hear.
LOVBORG.
That was what I wanted; so I put nothing into the book but what every one would agree with.
BRACK.
Very wise of you.
TESMAN.
Well but, my dear Eilert—!
LOVBORG.
For now I mean to win myself a position again—to make a fresh start.
TESMAN.
[A little embarrassed.] Ah, that is what you wish to do? Eh?
LOVBORG.
[Smiling, lays down his hat, and draws a packet wrapped in paper, from his coat pocket.] But when this one appears, George Tesman, you will have to read it. For this is the real book—the book I have put my true self into.
TESMAN.
Indeed? And what is it?
LOVBORG.
It is the continuation.
TESMAN.
The continuation? Of what?
LOVBORG.
Of the book.
TESMAN.
Of the new book?
LOVBORG.
Of course.
TESMAN.
Why, my dear Eilert—does it not come down to our own days?
LOVBORG.
Yes, it does; and this one deals with the future.
TESMAN.
With the future! But, good heavens, we know nothing of the future!
LOVBORG.
No; but there is a thing or two to be said about it all the same. [Opens the packet.] Look here—
TESMAN.
Why, that's not your handwriting.
LOVBORG.
I dictated it. [Turning over the pages.] It falls into two sections. The first deals with the civilising forces of the future. And here is the second—[running through the pages towards the end]—forecasting the probable line of development.
TESMAN.
How odd now! I should never have thought of writing anything of that sort.
HEDDA.
[At the glass door, drumming on the pane.] H'm—. I daresay not.
LOVBORG.
[Replacing the manuscript in its paper and laying the packet on the table.] I brought it, thinking I might read you a little of it this evening.
TESMAN.
That was very good of you, Eilert. But this evening—? [Looking back at BRACK.] I don't see how we can manage it—
LOVBORG.
Well then, some other time. There is no hurry.
BRACK.
I must tell you, Mr. Lovborg—there is a little gathering at my house this evening—mainly in honour of Tesman, you know—
LOVBORG.
[Looking for his hat.] Oh—then I won't detain you—
BRACK.
No, but listen—will you not do me the favour of joining us?
LOVBORG.
[Curtly and decidedly.] No, I can't—thank you very much.
BRACK.
Oh, nonsense—do! We shall be quite a select little circle. And I assure you we shall have a "lively time," as Mrs. Hed—as Mrs. Tesman says.
LOVBORG.
I have no doubt of it. But nevertheless—
BRACK.
And then you might bring your manuscript with you, and read it to Tesman at my house. I could give you a room to yourselves.
TESMAN.
Yes, think of that, Eilert,—why shouldn't you? Eh?
HEDDA.
[Interposing.] But, Tesman, if Mr. Lovborg would really rather not! I am sure Mr. Lovborg is much more inclined to remain here and have supper with me.
LOVBORG.
[Looking at her.] With you, Mrs. Tesman?
HEDDA.
And with Mrs. Elvsted.
LOVBORG.
Ah— [Lightly.] I saw her for a moment this morning.
HEDDA.
Did you? Well, she is coming this evening. So you see you are almost bound to remain, Mr. Lovborg, or she will have no one to see her home.
LOVBORG.
That's true. Many thanks, Mrs. Tesman—in that case I will remain.
HEDDA.
Then I have one or two orders to give the servant—
to her in a whisper, and points towards the inner room. BERTA
nods and goes out again.
TESMAN.
[At the same time, to LOVBORG.] Tell me, Eilert—is it this new subject—the future—that you are going to lecture about?
LOVBORG.
Yes.
TESMAN.
They told me at the bookseller's that you are going to deliver a course of lectures this autumn.
LOVBORG.
That is my intention. I hope you won't take it ill, Tesman.
TESMAN.
Oh no, not in the least! But—?
LOVBORG.
I can quite understand that it must be very disagreeable to you.
TESMAN.
[Cast down.] Oh, I can't expect you, out of consideration for me, to—
LOVBORG.
But I shall wait till you have received your appointment.
TESMAN.
Will you wait? Yes but—yes but—are you not going to compete with me? Eh?
LOVBORG.
No; it is only the moral victory I care for.
TESMAN.
Why, bless me—then Aunt Julia was right after all! Oh yes—I knew it! Hedda! Just fancy—Eilert Lovborg is not going to stand in our way!
HEDDA.
[Curtly.] Our way? Pray leave me out of the question.
tray with decanters and glasses on the table. HEDDA nods
approval, and comes forward again. BERTA goes out.
TESMAN.
[At the same time.] And you, Judge Brack—what do you say to this? Eh?
BRACK.
Well, I say that a moral victory—h'm—may be all very fine—
TESMAN.
Yes, certainly. But all the same—
HEDDA.
[Looking at TESMAN with a cold smile.] You stand there looking as if you were thunderstruck—
TESMAN.
Yes—so I am—I almost think—
BRACK.
Don't you see, Mrs. Tesman, a thunderstorm has just passed over?
HEDDA.
[Pointing towards the room.] Will you not take a glass of cold punch, gentlemen?
BRACK.
[Looking at his watch.] A stirrup-cup? Yes, it wouldn't come amiss.
TESMAN.
A capital idea, Hedda! Just the thing! Now that the weight has been taken off my mind—
HEDDA.
Will you not join them, Mr. Lovborg?
LOVBORG.
[With a gesture of refusal.] No, thank you. Nothing for me.
BRACK.
Why bless me—cold punch is surely not poison.
LOVBORG.
Perhaps not for everyone.
HEDDA.
I will keep Mr. Lovborg company in the meantime.
TESMAN.
Yes, yes, Hedda dear, do.
punch, smoke cigarettes, and carry on a lively conversation
during what follows. EILERT LOVBORG remains standing beside
the stove. HEDDA goes to the writing-table.
HEDDA.
[Raising he voice a little.] Do you care to look at some photographs, Mr. Lovborg? You know Tesman and I made a tour in the Tyrol on our way home?
sofa, in the further corner of which she seats herself. EILERT
LOVBORG approaches, stops, and looks at her. Then he takes a
chair and seats himself to her left.
HEDDA.
[Opening the album.] Do you see this range of mountains, Mr. Lovborg? It's the Ortler group. Tesman has written the name underneath. Here it is: "The Ortler group near Meran."
LOVBORG.
[Who has never taken his eyes off her, says softly and slowly:] Hedda—Gabler!
HEDDA.
[Glancing hastily at him.] Ah! Hush!
LOVBORG.
[Repeats softly.] Hedda Gabler!
HEDDA.
[Looking at the album.] That was my name in the old days—when we two knew each other.
LOVBORG.
And I must teach myself never to say Hedda Gabler again—never, as long as I live.
HEDDA.
[Still turning over the pages.] Yes, you must. And I think you ought to practise in time. The sooner the better, I should say.
LOVBORG.
[In a tone of indignation.] Hedda Gabler married? And married to— George Tesman!
HEDDA.
Yes—so the world goes.
LOVBORG.
Oh, Hedda, Hedda—how could you(9) throw yourself away!
HEDDA.
[Looks sharply at him.] What? I can't allow this!
LOVBORG.
What do you mean?
HEDDA.
[Hears him coming and says in an indifferent tone.] And this is a view from the Val d'Ampezzo, Mr. Lovborg. Just look at these peaks! [Looks affectionately up at TESMAN.] What's the name of these curious peaks, dear?
TESMAN.
Let me see. Oh, those are the Dolomites.
HEDDA.
Yes, that's it!—Those are the Dolomites, Mr. Lovborg.
TESMAN.
Hedda, dear,—I only wanted to ask whether I shouldn't bring you a little punch after all? For yourself at any rate—eh?
HEDDA.
Yes, do, please; and perhaps a few biscuits.
TESMAN.
No cigarettes?
HEDDA.
No.
TESMAN.
Very well.
in the inner room, and keeps an eye from time to time on HEDDA
and LOVBORG.
LOVBORG.
[Softly, as before.] Answer me, Hedda—how could you go and do this?
HEDDA.
[Apparently absorbed in the album.] If you continue to say du to me I won't talk to you.
LOVBORG.
May I not say du even when we are alone?
HEDDA.
No. You may think it; but you mustn't say it.
LOVBORG.
Ah, I understand. It is an offence against George Tesman, whom you(10)—love.
HEDDA.
[Glances at him and smiles.] Love? What an idea!
LOVBORG.
You don't love him then!
HEDDA.
But I won't hear of any sort of unfaithfulness! Remember that.
LOVBORG.
Hedda—answer me one thing—
HEDDA.
Hush! [TESMAN enters with a small tray from the inner room.
TESMAN.
Here you are! Isn't this tempting? [He puts the tray on the table.
HEDDA.
Why do you bring it yourself?
TESMAN.
[Filling
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