Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (283 page)

Hedda.
The truth?

Lovborg.
First promise me — give me your word — that what I now confide in you Thea shall never know.

Hedda.
I give you my word.

Lovborg.
Good. Then let me tell you that what I said just now was untrue.

Hedda.
About the manuscript?

Lovborg.
Yes. I have not torn it to pieces — nor thrown it into the fiord.

Hedda.
No, no — . But — where is it then?

Lovborg.
I have destroyed it none the less — utterly destroyed it, Hedda!

Hedda.
I don’t understand.

Lovborg.
Thea said that what I had done seemed to her like a child-murder.

Hedda.
Yes, so she said.

Lovborg.
But to kill his child — that is not the worst thing a father can do to it.

Hedda.
Not the worst?

Lovborg.
Suppose now, Hedda, that a man — in the small hours of the morning — came home to his child’s mother after a night of riot and debauchery, and said: “Listen — I have been here and there — in this place and in that. And I have taken our child with — to this place and to that. And I have lost the child — utterly lost it. The devil knows into what hands it may have fallen — who may have had their clutches on it.”

Hedda.
Well — but when all is said and done, you know — this was only a book —

Lovborg.
Thea’s pure soul was in that book.

Hedda.
Yes, so I understand.

Lovborg.
And you can understand, too, that for her and me together no future is possible.

Hedda.
What path do you mean to take then?

Lovborg.
None. I will only try to make an end of it all — the sooner the better.

Hedda.
[A step nearer him.]
Eilert Lovborg — listen to me. — Will you not try to — to do it beautifully?

Lovborg.
Beautifully?
[Smiling.]
With vine-leaves in my hair, as you used to dream in the old days — ?

Hedda.
No, no. I have lost my faith in the vine-leaves. But beautifully nevertheless! For once in a way! — Good-bye! You must go now — and do not come here any more.

Lovborg.
Good-bye, Mrs. Tesman. And give George Tesman my love.

He is on the point of going.

Hedda.
No, wait! I must give you a memento to take with you.

She goes to the writing-table and opens the drawer and the pistol-case; then returns to
Lovborg
with one of the pistols.

Lovborg.
[Looks at her.]
This? Is this the memento?

Hedda.
[Nodding slowly.]
Do you recognise it? It was aimed at you once.

Lovborg.
You should have used it then.

Hedda.
Take it — and do you use it now.

Lovborg.
[Puts the pistol in his breast pocket.]
Thanks!

Hedda.
And beautifully, Eilert Lovborg. Promise me that!

Lovborg.
Good-bye, Hedda Gabler. [He goes out by the hall door.

Hedda
listens for a moment at the door. Then she goes up to the writing-table, takes out the packet of manuscript, peeps under the cover, draws a few of the sheets half out, and looks at them. Next she goes over and seats herself in the arm-chair beside the stove, with the packet in her lap. Presently she opens the stove door, and then the packet.

Hedda.
[Throws one of the quires into the fire and whispers to herself.]
Now I am burning your child, Thea! — Burning it, curly-locks!
[Throwing one or two more quires into the stove.]
Your child and Eilert Lovborg’s.
[Throws the rest in.]
I am burning — I am burning your child.

Act Fourt
h

The same rooms at the
Tesmans
’. It is evening. The drawing-room is in darkness. The back room is light by the hanging lamp over the table. The curtains over the glass door are drawn close.

Hedda
, dressed in black, walks to and fro in the dark room. Then she goes into the back room and disappears for a moment to the left. She is heard to strike a few chords on the piano. Presently she comes in sight again, and returns to the drawing-room.

Berta
enters from the right, through the inner room, with a lighted lamp, which she places on the table in front of the corner settee in the drawing-room. Her eyes are red with weeping, and she has black ribbons in her cap. She goes quietly and circumspectly out to the right.
Hedda
goes up to the glass door, lifts the curtain a little aside, and looks out into the darkness.

Shortly afterwards,
Miss Tesman
, in mourning, with a bonnet and veil on, comes in from the hall.
Hedda
goes towards her and holds out her hand.

Miss Tesman.
Yes, Hedda, here I am, in mourning and forlorn; for now my poor sister has at last found peace.

Hedda.
I have heard the news already, as you see. Tesman sent me a card.

Miss Tesman.
Yes, he promised me he would. But nevertheless I thought that to Hedda — here in the house of life — I ought myself to bring the tidings of death.

Hedda.
That was very kind of you.

Miss Tesman.
Ah, Rina ought not to have left us just now. This is not the time for Hedda’s house to be a house of mourning.

Hedda.
[Changing the subject.]
She died quite peacefully, did she not, Miss Tesman?

Miss Tesman.
Oh, her end was so calm, so beautiful. And then she had the unspeakable happiness of seeing George once more — and bidding him good-bye. — Has he not come home yet?

Hedda.
No. He wrote that he might be detained. But won’t you sit down?

Miss Tesman.
No thank you, my dear, dear Hedda. I should like to, but I have so much to do. I must prepare my dear one for her rest as well as I can. She shall go to her grave looking her best.

Hedda.
Can I not help you in any way?

Miss Tesman.
Oh, you must not think of it! Hedda Tesman must have no hand in such mournful work. Nor let her thought dwell on it either — not at this time.

Hedda.
One is not always mistress of one’s thoughts —

Miss Tesman.
[Continuing.]
Ah yes, it is the way of the world. At home we shall be sewing a shroud; and here there will soon be sewing too, I suppose — but of another sort, thank God!

George Tesman
enters by the hall door.

Hedda.
Ah, you have come at last!

Tesman.
You here, Aunt Julia? With Hedda? Fancy that!

Miss Tesman.
I was just going, my dear boy. Well, have you done all you promised?

Tesman.
No; I’m really afraid I have forgotten half of it. I must come to you again tomorrow. To-day my brain is all in a whirl. I can’t keep my thoughts together.

Miss Tesman.
Why, my dear George, you mustn’t take it in this way.

Tesman.
Mustn’t — ? How do you mean?

Miss Tesman.
Even in your sorrow you must rejoice, as I do — rejoice that she is at rest.

Tesman.
Oh yes, yes — you are thinking of Aunt Rina.

Hedda.
You will feel lonely now, Miss Tesman.

Miss Tesman.
Just at first, yes. But that will not last very long, I hope. I daresay I shall soon find an occupant for Rina’s little room.

Tesman.
Indeed? Who do you think will take it? Eh?

Miss Tesman.
Oh, there’s always some poor invalid or other in want of nursing, unfortunately.

Hedda.
Would you really take such a burden upon you again?

Miss Tesman.
A burden! Heaven forgive you, child — it has been no burden to me.

Hedda.
But suppose you had a total stranger on your hands —

Miss Tesman.
Oh, one soon makes friends with sick folk; and it’s such an absolute necessity for me to have some one to live for. Well, heaven be praised, there may soon be something in this house, too, to keep an old aunt busy.

Hedda.
Oh, don’t trouble about anything here.

Tesman.
Yes, just fancy what a nice time we three might have together, if — ?

Hedda.
If — ?

Tesman.
[Uneasily.]
Oh nothing. It will all come right. Let us hope so — eh?

Miss Tesman.
Well well, I daresay you two want to talk to each other.
[Smiling.]
And perhaps Hedda may have something to tell you too, George. Good-bye! I must go home to Rina.
[Turning at the door.]
How strange it is to think that now Rina is with me and with my poor brother as well!

Tesman.
Yes, fancy that, Aunt Julia! Eh?

Miss Tesman
goes out by the hall door.

Hedda.
[Follows
Tesman
coldly and searchingly with her eyes.]
I almost believe your Aunt Rina’s death affects you more than it does your Aunt Julia.

Tesman.
Oh, it’s not that alone. It’s Eilert I am so terribly uneasy about.

Hedda.
[Quickly.]
Is there anything new about him?

Tesman.
I looked in at his rooms this afternoon, intending to tell him the manuscript was in safe keeping.

Hedda.
Well, did you find him?

Tesman.
No. He wasn’t at home. But afterwards I met Mrs. Elvsted, and she told me that he had been here early this morning.

Hedda.
Yes, directly after you had gone.

Tesman.
And he said that he had torn his manuscript to pieces — eh?

Hedda.
Yes, so he declared.

Tesman.
Why, good heavens, he must have been completely out of his mind! And I suppose you thought it best not to give it back to him, Hedda?

Hedda.
No, he did not get it.

Tesman.
But of course you told him that we had it?

Hedda.
No.
[Quickly.]
Did you tell Mrs. Elvsted?

Tesman.
No; I thought I had better not. But you ought to have told him. Fancy, if, in desperation, he should go and do himself some injury! Let me have the manuscript, Hedda! I will take it to him at once. Where is it?

Hedda.
[Cold and immovable, leaning on the arm-chair.]
I have not got it.

Tesman.
Have not got it? What in the world do you mean?

Hedda.
I have burnt it — every line of it.

Tesman.
[With a violent movement of terror.]
Burnt! Burnt Eilert’s manuscript!

Hedda.
Don’t scream so. The servant might hear you.

Tesman.
Burnt! Why, good God — ! No, no, no! It’s impossible!

Hedda.
It is so, nevertheless.

Tesman.
Do you know what you have done, Hedda? It’s unlawful appropriation of lost property. Fancy that! Just ask Judge Brack, and he’ll tell you what it is.

Hedda.
I advise you not to speak of it — either to Judge Brack or to anyone else.

Tesman.
But how could you do anything so unheard-of? What put it into your head? What possessed you? Answer me that — eh?

Hedda.
[Suppressing an almost imperceptible smile.]
I did it for your sake, George.

Tesman.
For my sake!

Hedda.
This morning, when you told me about what he had read to you —

Tesman.
Yes yes — what then?

Hedda.
You acknowledged that you envied him his work.

Tesman.
Oh, of course I didn’t mean that literally.

Hedda.
No matter — I could not bear the idea that any one should throw you into the shade.

Tesman.
[In an outburst of mingled doubt and joy.]
Hedda! Oh, is this true? But — but — I never knew you show your love like that before. Fancy that!

Hedda.
Well, I may as well tell you that — just at this time ——
[Impatiently breaking off.]
No, no; you can ask Aunt Julia. She well tell you, fast enough.

Tesman.
Oh, I almost think I understand you, Hedda!
[Clasps his hands together.]
Great heavens! do you really mean it! Eh?

Hedda.
Don’t shout so. The servant might hear.

Tesman.
[Laughing in irrepressible glee.]
The servant! Why, how absurd you are, Hedda. It’s only my old Berta! Why, I’ll tell Berta myself.

Hedda.
[Clenching her hands together in desperation.]
Oh, it is killing me, — it is killing me, all this!

Tesman.
What is, Hedda? Eh?

Hedda.
[Coldly, controlling herself.]
All this — absurdity — George.

Tesman.
Absurdity! Do you see anything absurd in my being overjoyed at the news! But after all — perhaps I had better not say anything to Berta.

Hedda.
Oh — why not that too?

Tesman.
No, no, not yet! But I must certainly tell Aunt Julia. And then that you have begun to call me George too! Fancy that! Oh, Aunt Julia will be so happy — so happy!

Hedda.
When she hears that I have burnt Eilert Lovborg’s manuscript — for your sake?

Tesman.
No, by-the-bye — that affair of the manuscript — of course nobody must know about that. But that you love me so much, Hedda — Aunt Julia must really share my joy in that! I wonder, now, whether this sort of thing is usual in young wives? Eh?

Hedda.
I think you had better ask Aunt Julia that question too.

Tesman.
I will indeed, some time or other.
[Looks uneasy and downcast again.]
And yet the manuscript — the manuscript! Good God! it is terrible to think what will become of poor Eilert now.

Mrs. Elvsted
, dressed as in the first Act, with hat and cloak, enters by the hall door.

Mrs.
Elvsted.
[Greets them hurriedly, and says in evident agitation.]
Oh, dear Hedda, forgive my coming again.

Hedda.
What is the matter with you, Thea?

Tesman.
Something about Eilert Lovborg again — eh?

Mrs.
Elvsted. Yes! I am dreadfully afraid some misfortune has happened to him.

Hedda.
[Seized her arm.]
Ah, — do you think so?

Tesman.
Why, good Lord — what makes you think that, Mrs. Elvsted?