Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas

ACT THREE

Chapter 38,928 wordsPublic domain

HIALMAR'S _Studio. A photograph has just been taken._ GINA _and_ HEDVIG _are tidying up._

GINA.

[_Apologetically._] There _should_ have been a luncheon-party in this act, with Dr. Relling and Moelvik, who would have been in a state of comic "chippiness," after his excesses overnight. But, as it hadn't much to do with such plot as there is, we cut it out. It came cheaper. Here comes your father back from his walk with that lunatic, young Werle--you had better go and play with the Wild Duck.

[HEDVIG _goes_.

HIALMAR.

[_Coming in._] I have been for a walk with Gregers; he meant well--but it was tiring. Gina, he has told me that, fifteen years ago, before I married you, you were rather a Wild Duck, so to speak. [_Severely._] Why haven't you been writhing in penitence and remorse all these years, eh?

GINA.

[_Sensibly._] Why? Because I have had other things to do. _You_ wouldn't take any photographs, so I _had_ to.

HIALMAR.

All the same--it was a swamp of deceit. And where am I to find elasticity of spirit to bring out my grand invention now? I used to shut myself up in the parlour, and ponder and cry, when I thought that the effort of inventing anything would sap my vitality. [_Pathetically._] I _did_ want to leave you an inventor's widow; but I never shall now, particularly as I haven't made up my mind what to invent yet. Yes, it's all over. Rabbits are trash, and even poultry palls. And I'll wring that cursed Wild Duck's neck!

GREGERS.

[_Coming in beaming._] Well, so you've got it over. _Wasn't_ it soothing and ennobling, eh? and _ain't_ you both obliged to me?

GINA.

No; it's my opinion you'd better have minded your own business.

[_Weeps._

GREGERS.

[_In great surprise._] Bless me! Pardon my Norwegian _naivete_, but this ought really to be quite a new starting-point. Why, I confidently expected to have found you both beaming!--Mrs. Ekdal, being so illiterate, may take some little time to see it--but you, Hialmar, with your deep mind, surely _you_ feel a new consecration, eh?

HIALMAR.

[_Dubiously._] Oh--er--yes. I suppose so--in a sort of way.

[HEDVIG _runs in, overjoyed._

HEDVIG.

Father, only see what Mrs. Soerby has given me for a birthday present--a beautiful deed of gift! [_Shows it._

HIALMAR.

[_Eluding her._] Ha! Mrs. Soerby, the family house-keeper. My father's sight failing! Hedvig in goggles! What vistas of heredity these astonishing coincidences open up! _I_ am not short-sighted, at all events, and I see it all--all! _This_ is my answer. [_He takes the deed, and tears it across._] Now I have nothing more to do in this house. [_Puts on overcoat._] My home has fallen in ruins about me. [_Bursts into tears._] My hat!

GREGERS.

Oh, but you _mustn't_ go. You must be all three together, to attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrificing forgiveness, you know!

HIALMAR.

Self-sacrificing forgiveness be blowed!

[_He tears himself away, and goes out._

HEDVIG.

[_With despairing eyes._] Oh, he said it might be blowed! Now he'll _never_ come home any more!

GREGERS.

Shall I tell you how to regain your father's confidence, and bring him home surely? Sacrifice the Wild Duck.

HEDVIG.

Do you think that will do any good?

GREGERS.

You just _try_ it!

[_Curtain._

* * * * *

ACT FOURTH

_Same Scene._ GREGERS _enters, and finds_ GINA _retouching photographs_.

GREGERS.

[_Pleasantly._] Hialmar not come in yet, after last night, I suppose?

GINA.

Not he! He's been out on the loose all night with Relling and Moelvik. Now he's snoring on their sofa.

GREGERS.

[_Disappointed._] Dear!--dear!--when he ought to be yearning to wrestle in solitude and self-examination!

GINA.

[_Rudely._] Self-examine your grandmother!

[_She goes out_; HEDVIG _comes in_.

GREGERS.

[_To_ HEDVIG.] Ah, I see you haven't found courage to settle the Wild Duck yet!

HEDVIG.

No--it seemed such a delightful idea at first. Now it strikes me as a trifle--well, _Ibsenish_.

GREGERS.

[_Reprovingly._] I _thought_ you hadn't grown up quite unharmed in this house! But if you really had the true, joyous spirit of self-sacrifice, you'd have a shot at that Wild Duck, if you died for it!

HEDVIG.

[_Slowly._] I see; you mean that my constitution's changing, and I ought to behave as such?

GREGERS.

Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"--but _I_ believe in you, Hedvig.

[HEDVIG _takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes into the garret with flashing eyes_; GINA _comes in_.

HIALMAR.

[_Looking in at door with hesitation; he is unwashed and dishevelled._] Has anybody happened to see my hat?

GINA.

Gracious, what a sight you are! Sit down and have some breakfast, do.

[_She brings it._

HIALMAR.

[_Indignantly._] What! touch food under _this_ roof? Never! [_Helps himself to bread-and-butter and coffee._] Go and pack up my scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my portmanteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare room for another day or two--it won't be the same as living with you!

[_He takes some salt meat._

GREGERS.

_Must_ you go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build upon--thanks to me! Then there's your great invention, too.

HIALMAR.

Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention because, although it doesn't exist yet, I thought Hedvig believed in it, with all the strength of her sweet little short-sighted eyes! But now I don't believe in Hedvig!

[_He pours himself out another cup of coffee._

GREGERS.

[_Earnestly._] But, Hialmar, if I can prove to you that she is ready to sacrifice her cherished Wild Duck? See!

[_He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers_ HEDVIG _aiming at the_ Wild Duck _with the butt-end of the pistol. Tableau._

GINA.

[_Excitedly._] But don't you _see_? 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!

HIALMAR.

[_Irresolutely._] Well, really, I don't know. There's a good deal in what Gregers says. H'm!

GINA.

A good deal of tomfool rubbish! I'm illiterate, I know. I've been a Wild Duck in my time, and I waddle. But for all that, I'm the only person in the play with a grain of common-sense. And I'm sure--whatever Mr. Ibsen or Gregers choose to say--that a screaming burlesque like this ought _not_ to end like a tragedy--even in this queer Norway of ours! And it shan't, either! Tell the child to put that nasty pigstol down, and come away--do!

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! [_He goes._

HIALMAR.

And now we've got rid of _him_, Hedvig, fetch me the deed of gift I tore up, and a slip of paper, and a penny bottle of gum, and we'll soon make a valid instrument of it again.

[_He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain slowly descends._

* * * * *

PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL

[PREFATORY NOTE.--The original title--_Mester-Pjil-droegster Herdal_--would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is therefore modified as above, although the term "droegster," strictly speaking, denotes a practitioner who has not received a regular diploma].

ACT FIRST

_An elegantly furnished drawing-room at_ Dr. HERDAL'S. _In front, on the left, a console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand: in another, a desk, at which stands_ SENNA BLAKDRAF, _making out the quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the Dispensary, where_ RUeBUB KALOMEL _is seated, occupied in rolling a pill. Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a half._

DR. HAUSTUS HERDAL.

[_Enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a plain sensible countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression._] Come here Miss Blakdraf. [_Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a divan._] Have you made out all those bills yet?

[_Looks sternly at her._

SENNA.

[_In a low hesitating voice._] Almost. I have charged each patient with three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. [_Passionately._] I felt I _must_--I _must_!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and whispers._] I wish you could make out the bills for me, _always_.

SENNA.

[_In nervous exaltation._] How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here!

[_Sinks down and embraces his knees._

DR. HERDAL.

So I've understood. [_With suppressed irritation._] For goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do _wish_ you wouldn't be so confoundedly neurotic!

RUeBUB.

[_Has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with difficulty; he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a harelip, and squints slightly._] I beg pardon, Dr. Herdal, I see I interrupt you. [_As_ SENNA _rises_.] I have just completed this pill. Have you looked at it?

[_He offers it for inspection, diffidently._

DR. HERDAL.

[_Evasively._] It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions.

RUeBUB.

[_Cast down._] All these years you have never given me one encouraging word! _Can't_ you praise my pill?

DR. HERDAL.

[_Struggles with himself._] I--I cannot. You should not attempt to compound pills on your own account.

RUeBUB.

[_Breathing laboriously._] And yet there was a time when _you_, too----

DR. HERDAL.

[_Complacently._] Yes, it was certainly a pill that came as a lucky stepping stone--but not a pill like that!

RUeBUB.

[_Vehemently._] Listen! Is that your last word? _Is_ my aged mother to pass out of this world without ever knowing whether I am competent to construct an effective pill or not?

DR. HERDAL.

[_As if in desperation._] You had better try it upon your mother--it will enable her to form an opinion. Only mind--I will not be responsible for the result.

RUeBUB.

I understand. Exactly as you tried _your_ pill, all those years ago, upon Dr. Ryval.

[_He bows and goes out._

DR. HERDAL.

[_Uneasily._] He said that so strangely, Senna. But tell me now--when are you going to marry him?

SENNA.

[_Starts--half glancing up at him._] I--I don't know. This year--next year--now--_never_! I cannot marry him ... I cannot--I _cannot_--it is so utterly impossible to leave you!

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, I can understand _that_. But, my poor Senna, hadn't you better take a little walk?

SENNA.

[_Clasps her hands gratefully._] How sweet and thoughtful you are to me! I _will_ take a walk.

DR. HERDAL.

[_With a suppressed smile._] Do! And--h'm!--you needn't trouble to come back. I have advertised for a male book-keeper--they are less emotional. Good-night, my little Senna!

SENNA.

[_Softly and quiveringly._] Good-night, Dr. Herdal!

[_Staggers out of hall-door, blowing kisses._

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Enters through the window, plaintively._] Quite an acquisition for you, Haustus, this Miss Blakdraf!

DR. HERDAL.

She's--h'm--extremely civil and obliging. But I am parting with her, Aline--mainly on _your_ account.

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Evades him._] Was it on my account, indeed, Haustus? You have parted with so many young persons on my account--so you tell me!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Depressed._] Oh, but this is hopeless! When I have tried so hard to bring a ray of sunlight into your desolate life! I must give Ruebub Kalomel notice too--his pill is really too preposterous!

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Feels gropingly for a chair, and sits down on the floor._] Him, _too_! Ah, Haustus, you will never make my home a real home for me. My poor first husband, Halvard Solness, tried--and _he_ couldn't! When one has had such misfortunes as I have--all the family portraits burnt, and the silk dresses, too, and a pair of twins, and nine lovely dolls.

[_Chokes with tears._

DR. HERDAL.

[_As if to lead her away from the subject._] Yes, yes, yes, that must have been a heavy blow for you, my poor Aline. I can understand that your spirits can never be really high again. And then for poor Master Builder Solness to be so taken up with that Miss Wangel as he was--that, too, was so wretched for you. To see him topple off the tower, as he did that day ten years ago----

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes, that too, Haustus. But I did not mind it so much--it all seemed so perfectly natural in both of them.

DR. HERDAL.

Natural! For a girl of twenty three to taunt a middle-aged architect, whom she knew to be constitutionally liable to giddiness, never to let him have any peace till he had climbed a spire as dizzy as himself--and all for the fun of seeing him fall off--how in the world----!

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Laying the table for supper with dried fish and punch._] The younger generation have a keener sense of humour than we elder ones, Haustus, and perhaps after all, she was only a perplexing sort of allegory.

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, that would explain her to some extent, no doubt. But how _he_ could be such an old fool!

MRS. HERDAL.

That Miss Wangel was a strangely fascinating type of girl. Why, even I myself----

DR. HERDAL.

[_Sits down and takes some fish._] Fascinating? Well, goodness knows, I couldn't see _that_ at all. [_Seriously._] Has it never struck you, Aline, that elderly Norwegians are so deucedly impressionable--mere bundles of overstrained nerves, hypersensitive ganglia. Except, of course, the Medical Profession.

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes, of course; those in that profession are not so inclined to gangle. And when one has succeeded by such a stroke of luck as you have----

DR. HERDAL.

[_Drinks a glass of punch._] You're right enough there. If I had not been called in to prescribe for Dr. Ryval, who used to have the leading practice here, I should never have stepped so wonderfully into his shoes as I did. [_Changes to a tone of quiet chuckling merriment._] Let me tell you a funny story, Aline; it sounds a ludicrous thing--but all my good fortune here was based upon a simple little pill. For if Dr. Ryval had never taken it----

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Anxiously._] Then you _do_ think it was the pill that caused him to----?

DR. HERDAL.

On the contrary; 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!

[_He takes more punch._

MRS. HERDAL.

Yes; I suppose there is a poultice of that sort burning on every breast--and we must never take it off either--it is our simple duty to keep it on. I too, Haustus, am haunted by a fancy that if this Miss Wangel were to ring at our bell now----

DR. HERDAL.

After she has been lost sight of for ten years? She is safe enough in some sanatorium, depend upon it. And what if she _did_ come? Do you think, my dear good woman, that I--a sensible clear-headed general practitioner, who have found out all I know for myself--would let her play the deuce with me as she did with poor Halvard? No, general practitioners don't _do_ such things--even in Norway!

MRS. HERDAL.

Don't they indeed, Haustus? [_The surgery-bell rings loudly._] Did you hear _that_? There she is! I will go and put on my best cap. It is my duty to show her _that_ small attention.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Laughing nervously._] Why, what on earth!---- It's the night-bell. It is most probably the new book-keeper! [MRS. 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._] It is--very much so--but still I don't in the least understand----

HILDA.

[_Measures him with a glance._] Oh, you _will_. I have come to be of use to you. I've no luggage, and no money. Not that _that_ makes any difference. I never _have_. And I've been allured and attracted here. You surely know how these things come about?

[_Throws her arms round him._

DR. HERDAL.

What the deuce! Miss Wangel, you _mustn't_. I'm a married man! There's my wife!

[MRS. HERDAL _enters_.

HILDA.

As if _that_ mattered--it's only dear, sweet Mrs. Solness. _She_ doesn't mind--_do_ you, dear Mrs. Solness?

MRS. HERDAL.

It does not seem to be of much _use_ minding, Miss Wangel. I presume you have come to stay?

HILDA.

[_In amused surprise._] Why, of course--what else should I come for? I _always_ come to stay, until--h'm!

[_Nods slowly, and sits down at table._

DR. HERDAL.

[_Involuntarily._] She's drinking my punch! If she thinks I'm going to stand this sort of thing, she's mistaken. I'll soon show her a pill-doctor is a very different kind of person from a mere Master Builder!

[HILDA _finishes the punch with an indefinable expression in her eyes, and_ Dr. HERDAL _looks on gloomily as the Curtain falls_.

* * * * *

ACT SECOND

Dr. HERDAL'S _drawing-room and dispensary, as before. It is early in the day._ Dr. HERDAL _sits by the little table, taking his own temperature with a clinical thermometer. By the door stands the_ NEW BOOK-KEEPER; _he wears blue spectacles and a discoloured white tie, and seems slightly nervous_.

DR. HERDAL.

Well, now you understand what is necessary. My late book-keeper, Miss Blakdraf, used to keep my accounts very cleverly--she charged every visit twice over.

THE NEW BOOK-KEEPER.

I am familiar with book-keeping by double entry. I was once employed at a bank.

DR. HERDAL.

I am discharging my assistant, too; he was always trying to push me out with his pills. Perhaps you will be able to dispense?

THE NEW BOOK-KEEPER.

[_Modestly._] With an additional salary, I should be able to do that too.

DR. HERDAL.

Capital! You _shall_ dispense with an additional salary. Go into the dispensary, and see what you can make of it. You may mistake a few drugs at first--but everything must have a beginning.

[_As the_ NEW BOOK-KEEPER _retires_, MRS. HERDAL _enters in a hat and cloak with a watering-pot, noiselessly_.

MRS. HERDAL.

Miss Wangel got up early, before breakfast, and went for a walk. She is so wonderfully vivacious!

DR. HERDAL.

So I should say. But tell me, Aline, is she _really_ going to stay with us here?

[_Nervously._

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Looks at him._] So she tells me. And, as she has brought nothing with her except a tooth-brush and a powder-puff, I am going into the town to get her a few articles. We _must_ make her feel at home.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Breaking out._] I _will_ make her not only _feel_ but _be_ at home, wherever that is, this very day! I will _not_ have a perambulating Allegory without a portmanteau here on an indefinite visit. I say, she shall go--do you hear, Aline? Miss Wangel will go!

[_Raps with his fist on table._

MRS. HERDAL.

[_Quietly._] If you say so, Haustus, no doubt she will _have_ to go. But you must tell her so yourself.

[_Puts the watering pot on the console table, and goes out, as_ HILDA _enters, sparkling with pleasure._

HILDA.

[_Goes up straight to him._] Good morning, Dr. Herdal. I have just seen a pig killed. It was _ripping_--I mean, gloriously thrilling! And your wife has taken a tremendous fancy to me. Fancy _that_!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Gloomily._] It _is_ eccentric certainly. But my poor dear wife was always a little----

HILDA.

[_Nods her head slowly several times._] So _you_ have noticed that too? I have had a long talk with her. She can't get over your discharging Mr. Kalomel--he is the only man who ever _really_ understood her.

DR. HERDAL.

If I could only pay her off a little bit of the huge, immeasurable debt I owe her--but I can't!

HILDA.

[_Looks hard at him._] Can't _I_ help you? I helped Ragnar Brovik. Didn't you know I stayed with him and poor little Kaia--after that accident to my Master Builder? I did. I made Ragnar build me the loveliest castle in the air--lovelier, even, than poor Mr. Solness's would have been--and we stood together on the very top. The steps were rather too much for Kaia. Besides, there was no room for her on top. And he put towering spires on all his semi-detached villas. Only, somehow, they didn't let. Then the castle in the air tumbled down, and Ragnar went into liquidation, and I continued my walking-tour.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Interested against his will._] And where did you go after _that_, may I ask, Miss Wangel?

HILDA.

Oh, ever so far north. There I met Mr. and Mrs. Tesman--the second Mrs. Tesman--she who was Mrs. Elvsted, with the irritating hair, you know. They were on their honeymoon, and had just decided that it was impossible to reconstruct poor Mr. Loevborg's great book out of Mrs. Elvsted's rough notes. But I insisted on George's attempting the impossible--with Me. And what _do_ you think Mrs. Tesman wears in her hair _now_?

DR. HERDAL.

Why, really I could not say. Vine-leaves, perhaps.

HILDA.

Wrong--_straws_! Poor Tesman _didn't_ fancy that--so he shot himself, _un_-beautifully, through his ticket-pocket. And I went on and took Rosmershoelm for the summer. There had been misfortune in the house, so it was to let. Dear good old Rector Kroll acted as my reference; his wife and children had no sympathy with his views, so I used to see him every day. And I persuaded him, too, to attempt the impossible--he had never ridden anything but a rocking-horse in his life, but I made him promise to mount the White Horse of Rosmershoelm. He didn't get over _that_. They found his body, a fortnight afterwards, in the mill-dam. Thrilling!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Shakes his finger at her._] What a girl you are, Miss Wangel! But you mustn't play these games _here_, you know.

HILDA.

[_Laughs to herself._] Of course not. But I suppose I _am_ a strange sort of bird.

DR. HERDAL.

You are like a strong tonic. When I look at you I seem to be regarding an effervescing saline draught. Still, I really must decline to take you.

HILDA.

[_A little sulky._] That is not how you spoke ten years ago, up at the mountain station, when you were such a flirt!

DR. HERDAL.

_Was_ I a flirt? Deuce take me if I remember. But I am not like that _now_.

HILDA.

Then you have really forgotten how you sat next to me at the _table d'hote_, and made pills and swallowed them, and were so splendid and buoyant and free that all the old women who knitted left next day?

DR. HERDAL.

What a memory you have for trifles, Miss Wangel; it's quite wonderful!

HILDA.

Trifles! There was no trifling on _your_ part. When you promised to come back in ten years, like a troll, and fetch me!

DR. HERDAL.

Did I say all that? It _must_ have been _after table d'hote_!

HILDA.

It was. I was a mere chit then--only twenty-three; but _I_ remember. And now _I_ have come for _you_.

DR. HERDAL.

Dear, dear! But there is nothing of the troll about me now I have married Mrs. Solness.

HILDA.

[_Looking sharply at him._] Yes, I remember you were always dropping in to tea in those days.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Seems hurt._] Every visit was duly put down in the ledger and charged for--as poor little Senna will tell you.

HILDA.

Little Senna? Oh, Dr. Herdal, I believe there is a bit of the troll left in you still!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Laughs a little._] No, no; my conscience is perfectly robust--always was.

HILDA.

Are you quite _quite_ sure that, when you went indoors with dear Mrs. Solness that afternoon, and left me alone with my Master Builder, you did not foresee--perhaps wish--intend, even a little, that---- H'm?

DR. HERDAL.

That you would talk the poor man into clambering up that tower? You want to drag _Me_ into that business now!

HILDA.

[_Teasingly._] Yes, I certainly think that then you went on exactly like a troll.

DR. HERDAL.

[_With uncontrollable emotion._] Hilda, there is not a corner of me safe from you! Yes, I see now that _must_ have been the way of it. 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. Powders to make every one free and buoyant, and ready to grasp at one's own happiness, to _dare_ what one _would_. I will have you make them. I will--I _will_!

DR. HERDAL.

H'm! I am not quite sure that I clearly understand. And then the ingredients----?

HILDA.

What stupid people all of you pill-doctors are, to be sure! Why, they will be _poisons_, of course!

DR. HERDAL.

Poisons? Why in the world should they be _that_?

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. The larger parcels are coming on presently.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Uneasily._] H'm! Hilda--Miss Wangel I _should_ say--is kindly going to stay on a little longer, to assist me in some scientific experiments. You wouldn't understand them if I told you.

MRS. HERDAL.

Shouldn't I, Haustus? I daresay not.

[_The_ NEW BOOK-KEEPER _looks through the glass door of dispensary._

HILDA.

[_Starts violently and points--then in a whisper._] Who is _that?_

DR. HERDAL.

Only the new Book-keeper and Assistant--a very intelligent person.

HILDA.

[_Looks straight in front of her with a far-away expression, and whispers to herself._] I thought at first it was.... But no--_that_ would be _too_ frightfully thrilling!

DR. HERDAL.

[_To himself._] I'm turning into a regular old troll now--but I can't help myself. After all, I am only an elderly Norwegian. We are _made_ like that.... Rainbow powders--_real_ rainbow powders! With Hilda!... Oh, to have the joy of life once more!

[_Takes his temperature again as Curtain falls_.

* * * * *

ACT THIRD

[_On the right, a smart verandah, attached to_ Dr. HERDAL'S _dwelling-house, and communicating with the drawing-room and dispensary by glass doors. On the left a tumble-down rockery, with a headless plaster Mercury. In front, a lawn, with a large silvered glass globe on a stand. Chairs and tables. All the furniture is of galvanised iron. A sunset is seen going on among the trees._

DR. HERDAL.

[_Comes out of dispensary-door cautiously, and whispers._] Hilda, are you in there?

[_Taps with fingers on drawing-room door._

HILDA.

[_Comes out with a half-teasing smile._] Well--and how is the rainbow-powder getting on, Dr. Herdal?

DR. HERDAL.

[_With enthusiasm._] It is getting on simply splendidly. I sent the new assistant out to take a little walk, so that he should not be in the way. There is arsenic in the powder, Hilda, and digitalis too, and strychnine, and the best beetle-killer!

HILDA.

[_With happy, wondering eyes._] _Lots_ of beetle-killer. And you will give some of it to _her_, to make her free and buoyant. I think one really _has_ the right--when people happen to stand in the way----!

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, you may well say so, Hilda. Still--[_dubiously_]--it _does_ occur to me that such doings may perhaps be misunderstood--by the narrow-minded and conventional. [_They go on the lawn, and sit down._

HILDA.

[_With an outburst._] Oh, that all seems to me so foolish--so irrelevant! As if the whole thing wasn't intended as an allegory!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Relieved._] Ah, so long as it is merely _allegorical_, of course---- But what is it an allegory _of_, Hilda?

HILDA.

[_Reflects in vain._] How can you sit there and ask such questions? I suppose I am a symbol--of some sort.

DR. HERDAL.

[_As a thought flashes upon him._] A cymbal? That would certainly account for your bra---- Then, am _I_ a cymbal too, Hilda?

HILDA.

Why yes--what else? You represent the artist-worker, or the elder generation, or the pursuit of the ideal, or a bilious conscience--or something or other. _You're_ all right!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Shakes his head._] Am I? But I don't quite see---- Well, well, cymbals are meant to clash a little. And I see plainly now that I ought to prescribe this powder for as many as possible. 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!

RUeBUB.

[_Enters garden-gate._] I have had my dismissal--but I'm not going without saying good-bye to Mrs. Herdal.

HILDA.

Dr. Herdal would disapprove--you really must not, Mr. Kalomel. And, besides, Mrs. Herdal is not at home. She is in the town buying me a reel of cotton. _Dr._ Herdal is in. He is making real rainbow powders for regenerating everybody all round. Won't _that_ be fun?

RUeBUB.

_Making_ powders? Ha! ha! But you will see he won't _take_ one himself. It is quite notorious to us younger men that he simply daren't do it.

HILDA.

[_With a little snort of contempt._] Oh, I daresay--that's so likely! [_Defiantly._] I know he _can_, though. I've _seen_ him!

RUeBUB.

There is a tradition that he once--but not now--he knows better. I think you said Mrs. Herdal was in the town? I will go and look for her. I understand her so well. [_Goes out by gate._

HILDA.

[_Calls._] Dr. Herdal! Come out this minute. I want you--awfully!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Puts his head out._] Just when I am making such wonderful progress with the powder. [_Comes down and leans on a table._] Have you hit upon some way of giving it to Aline? I thought if you were to put it in her arrowroot----?

HILDA.

No, thanks. I won't have that now. I have just recollected that it is a rule of mine never to injure anybody I have once been formally introduced to. Strangers don't count. No, poor Mrs. Herdal mustn't take that powder!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Disappointed._] Then is nothing to come of making rainbow powders, after all, Hilda?

HILDA.

[_Looks hard at him._] People say you are afraid to take your own physic. Is that true?

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, I am. [_After a pause--with candour._] I find it invariably disagrees with me.

HILDA.

[_With a half-dubious smile._] I think I can understand _that_. But you did _once_. You swallowed your own pills that day at the _table d'hote_, ten years ago. And I heard a harp in the air, too!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Open-mouthed._] I don't think that _could_ have been me. I don't play any instrument. And that was quite a special thing, too. It's not every day I can do it. Those were only _bread_ pills, Hilda.

HILDA.

[_With flashing eyes._] But you rolled them, you took them. And I want to see you stand once more free and high and great, swallowing your own preparations. [_Passionately._] I _will_ have you do it! [_Imploringly._] Just _once_ more, Dr. Herdal!

DR. HERDAL.

If I did, Hilda, my medical knowledge, slight as it is, leads me to the conclusion that I should in all probability burst.

HILDA.

[_Looks deeply into his eyes._] So long as you burst _beautifully_! But no doubt that Miss Blakdraf----

DR. HERDAL.

You must believe in me utterly and entirely. I will do anything--_anything_, Hilda, to provide you with agreeable entertainment. I _will_ swallow my own powder! [_To himself, as he goes gravely up to dispensary._] If only the drugs are sufficiently adulterated!

[_Goes in; as he does so, the_ NEW ASSISTANT _enters the garden in blue spectacles, unseen by_ HILDA, _and follows him, leaving open the glass door._

SENNA.

[_Comes wildly out of drawing-room._] Where is dear Dr. Herdal? Oh, Miss Wangel, he has discharged me--but I can't--I simply _can't_ live away from that lovely ledger.

HILDA.

[_Jubilantly._] At this moment Dr. Herdal is in the dispensary, taking one of his own powders.

SENNA.

[_Despairingly._] But--but it is utterly impossible! Miss Wangel, you have such a firm hold of him--_don't_ let him do that!

HILDA.

I have already done all I can.

[RUeBUB _appears, talking confidentially with_ MRS. HERDAL, _at gate._

SENNA.

Oh, Mrs. Herdal, Ruebub! The Pill-Doctor is going to take one of his own preparations. Save him--quick!

RUeBUB.

[_With cold politeness._] I am sorry to hear it--for his sake. But it would be quite contrary to professional etiquette to prevent him.

MRS. HERDAL.

And I never interfere with my husband's proceedings. I know _my_ duty, Miss Blakdraf, if _others_ don't!

HILDA.

[_Exulting with great intensity._] At last! Now I see him in there, great and free again, mixing the powder in a spoon--with jam!... Now he raises the spoon. Higher--higher still! [_A gulp is audible from within._] There, didn't you hear a harp in the air? [_Quietly._] I can't see the spoon any more. But there is one he is striving with, in blue spectacles!

THE NEW ASSISTANT'S VOICE.

[_Within._] The Pill-Doctor Herdal has taken his own powder!

HILDA.

[_As if petrified._] That voice! _Where_ have I heard it before? No matter--he has got the powder down! [_Waves a shawl in the air, and shrieks with wild jubilation._] It's too awfully thrilling! My--_my_ Pill-Doctor!

THE NEW ASSISTANT.

[_Comes out on verandah._] I am happy to inform you that--as, to avoid accidents, I took the simple precaution of filling all the dispensary-jars with camphorated chalk--no serious results may be anticipated from Dr. Herdal's rashness. [_Removes spectacles._] Nora, don't you know me?

HILDA.

[_Reflects._] I really don't remember having the pleasure---- And I'm _sure_ I heard a harp in the air!

MRS. HERDAL.

I fancy, Miss Wangel, it must have been merely a bee in your bonnet.

THE NEW ASSISTANT.

[_Tenderly._] Still the same little singing-bird! Oh, Nora, my long-lost lark!

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?

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?

HILDA-NORA-HELMER-WANGEL.

[_Hesitates._] Will you let me forge cheques if I do, Torvald?

HELMER.

[_Ardently._] All day. And at night, Nora, we will falsify the accounts--together!

HILDA-NORA-HELMER-WANGEL.

[_Throws herself into his arms, and helps herself to macaroons._] That will be fearfully thrilling! My--_my_ Manager!

DR. HERDAL.

[_Comes out very pale, from dispensary._] Hilda I _did_ take the---- I'm afraid I interrupt you?

HELMER.

Not in the least. But this lady is my little lark, and she is going back to her cage by the next steamer.

DR. HERDAL.

[_Bitterly._] Am I _never_ to have a gleam of happiness? But stay--do I see my little Senna once more?

RUeBUB.

Pardon me--_my_ little Senna. She always believed so firmly in my pill!

DR. HERDAL.

Well--well. If it must be. Ruebub, 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!

[HILDA-NORA _goes off to the right with_ HELMER; SENNA _to the left with_ RUeBUB; Dr. HERDAL _and_ MRS. HERDAL _sit on two of the galvanised-iron chairs, and shake their heads disconsolately as the Curtain falls._

* * * * *

_Printed by_ BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. _London and Edinburgh._

* * * * *

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WOMAN--THROUGH A MAN'S EYEGLASS

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BY DUDLEY HARDY

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THE OLD MAIDS' CLUB

BY

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Page 1

Telegraphic Address:

_Sunlocks, London._

_21 BEDFORD STREET, W.C._

_March 1893._

A LIST OF MR. WILLIAM HEINEMANN'S

PUBLICATIONS AND FORTHCOMING WORKS

_The Books mentioned in this List can be obtained to order by any Bookseller if not in stock, or will be sent by the Publisher post free on receipt of price._

Page 2

INDEX OF AUTHORS. PAGE

Alexander 13 Arbuthnot 8 Atherton 13 Baddeley 8 Balestier 9, 13 Barrett 9 Behrs 6 Bendall 16 Bjoernson 11, 14 Bowen 5 Brown 9 Brown and Griffiths 16 Buchanan 8, 10, 14 Butler 5 Caine 8, 12 Caine 16 Cambridge 12 Chester 7 Clarke 10 Colomb 6 Compayre 5 Couperus 11 Crackanthorpe 13 Davidson 5 Dawson 16 De Quincey 7 Dowson 9 Eeden 4 Ellwanger 8 Ely 8 Farrar 8 Fitch 5 Forbes 6 Fothergill 9 Franzos 11 Frederic 7, 12 Garner 8 Garnett 4 Gaulot 4 Gilchrist 10 Gore 16 Gosse 4, 7, 10 Grand 9 Gray 8 Gray (Maxwell) 9 Griffiths 16 Hall 16 Harland 13 Hardy 12 Heine 4, 6 Henderson 14 Howard 10 Hughes 5 Hungerford 9, 10, 13 Ibsen 14 Irving 14 Ingersoll 9 Jaeger 7, 15 Jeaffreson 6 Keeling 10 Kimball 16 Kipling and Balestier 10 Lanza 13 Le Caron 6 Lee 10 Leighton 9 Leland 16 Lie 11 Lowe 6, 7 Lowry 10 Lynch 13 Maartens 10 Maeterlinck 14 Maude 6 Mantegazza 4 Maupassant 11 Maurice 6 Merriman 4 Michel 3 Mitford 13 Moore 9 Murray 6 Norris 9 Ouida 10 Palacio-Valdes 11 Pearce 10 Pennell 7 Philips 14 Phelps 13 Pinero 15 Rawnsley 8 Renan 7 Richter 8 Riddell 13 Rives 10 Roberts (C.G.D.) 9 Roberts (A. von) 11 Salaman (M. C.) 7 Salaman (J. S.) 7 Scudamore 6 Serao 11 Sergeant 13 Sienkiewicz 11 Tallentyre 4 Tasma 10, 12 Terry 4 Thurston 16 Tolstoy 11, 14 Tree 15 Valera 11 Ward 13 Warden 13 Waugh 6 Weitemeyer 8 West 5 Whistler 4, 7 White 10 Whitman 8 Williams 8 Wood 10 Zangwill 7, 10 Zola 13

Page 3

_In preparation_.

REMBRANDT:

HIS LIFE, HIS WORK, AND HIS TIME.

BY

EMILE MICHEL,

_MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE._

EDITED AND PREFACED BY

FREDERICK WEDMORE.

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.

The latest inventions in photogravure and process-engraving have enabled the publisher to reproduce almost everything that is accessible in the public galleries of Europe, as well as most of the numerous private collections containing specimens of Rembrandt's work in England and on the Continent.

This work will be published in two volumes 4to, each containing over 300 pages. There will be over 30 photogravures, about 40 coloured reproductions of paintings and chalk drawings, and 250 illustrations in the text.

Two Editions will be printed--one on Japanese vellum, limited to 200 numbered copies (for England and America), with duplicates of the plates on India paper, price _L10 10s._ net. The ordinary edition will be published at _L2 2s._ net.

An illustrated prospectus is now ready and may be had on application. Orders will be received by all booksellers, in town and country.

Page 4

FORTHCOMING WORKS.

QUESTIONS AT ISSUE. Essays. By EDMUND GOSSE. In One Volume, crown 8vo (uniform with "Gossip in a Library").

A FRIEND OF THE QUEEN. Being Correspondence between Marie Antoinette and Monsieur de Fersen. By PAUL GAULOT. In One Volume, 8vo.

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SONGS ON STONE. By J. MCNEILL WHISTLER. A series of lithographic drawings in colour, by Mr. WHISTLER, will appear from time to time in parts, under the above title. Each containing four plates. The first issue of 200 copies will be sold at Two Guineas net per part, by Subscription for the Series only.

_There will also be issued 50 copies on Japanese paper, signed by the artist, each Five Guineas net._

Page 5

THE GREAT EDUCATORS.

_A Series of Volumes by Eminent Writers, presenting in their entirety "A Biographical History of Education."_

_The Times._--"A Series of Monographs on 'The Great Educators' should prove of service to all who concern themselves with the history, theory, and practice of education."

_The Speaker._--"There is a promising sound about the title of Mr. Heinemann's new series, 'The Great Educators.' It should help to allay the hunger and thirst for knowledge and culture of the vast multitude of young men and maidens which our educational system turns out yearly, provided at least with an appetite for instruction."

Each subject will form a complete volume, crown 8vo, 5s.

_Now ready._

ARISTOTLE, and the Ancient Educational Ideals. THOMAS DAVIDSON, M.A., LL.D.

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LOYOLA, and the Educational System of the Jesuits. By Rev. THOMAS HUGHES, S.J.

_Saturday Review._--"Full of valuable information.... If a schoolmaster would learn how the education of the young can be carried on so as to confer real dignity on those engaged in it, we recommend him to read Mr. Hughes' book."

ALCUIN, and the Rise of the Christian Schools. By Professor ANDREW F. WEST, Ph.D.

FROEBEL, and Education by Self-Activity. By H. COURTHOPE BOWEN, M.A.

ABELARD, and the Origin and Early History of Universities. By JULES GABRIEL COMPAYRE, Professor in the Faculty of Toulouse.

_In preparation_.

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BELL, LANCASTER, and ARNOLD; or, the English Education of To-Day. By J. D. FITCH, LL.D., Her Majesty's Inspector of Schools.

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Page 6

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Page 7

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