Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 10

Ah, dear George, you ought indeed to be happy--but [_brings out a flat package wrapped in newspaper_] look _here_, my dear boy!

GEORGE.

[_Opens it._] What? my dear old morning shoes! my slippers! [_Breaks down._] This is positively too touching, Hedda, eh? Do you remember how badly I wanted them all the honeymoon? Come and just have a look at them--you _may_!

HEDDA.

Bother your old slippers and your old aunt too! [AUNT JULIE _goes out annoyed, followed by_ GEORGE, _still thanking her warmly for the slippers;_ HEDDA _yawns;_ GEORGE _comes back and places his old slippers reverently on the table._] Why, here comes Mrs. Elvsted--_another_ early caller! She had irritating hair, and went about making a sensation with it--an old flame of yours, I've heard.

[_Enter_ MRS. ELVSTED; _she is pretty and gentle, with copious wavy white-gold hair and round prominent eyes, and the manner of a frightened rabbit._

MRS. ELVSTED.

[_Nervous._] Oh, please, I'm so perfectly in despair. Ejlert Lovborg, you know, who was our tutor; he's written such a large new book. I inspired him. Oh, I know I don't look like it--but I did--he told me so.

And, good gracious! now he's in this dangerous wicked town all alone, and he's a reformed character, and I'm _so_ frightened about him; so, as the wife of a sheriff twenty years older than me, I came up to look after Mr. Lovborg. Do ask him here--then I can meet him. You will? How perfectly lovely of you! My husband's _so_ fond of him!

HEDDA.

George, go and write an invitation at once; do you hear? [GEORGE _looks around for his slippers, takes them up and goes out._] Now we can talk, my little Thea. Do you remember how I used to pull your hair when we met on the stairs, and say I would scorch it off? Seeing people with copious hair always _does_ irritate me.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Goodness, yes, you were always so playful and friendly, and I was so afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've run away from my husband.

Everything around him was distasteful to me. And Mr. Lovborg and I were comrades--he was dissipated, and I got a sort of power over him, and he made a real person out of me--which I wasn't before, you know; but, oh, I do hope I'm real now. He talked to me and taught me to think--chiefly of him. So, when Mr. Lovborg came here, naturally I came too. There was nothing else to do! And fancy, there is another woman whose shadow still stands between him and me! She wanted to shoot him once, and so, of course, he can never forget her. I wish I knew her name--perhaps it was that red-haired opera-singer?

HEDDA.

[_With cold self-command._] Very likely--but n.o.body does that sort of thing here. Hus.h.!.+ Run away now. Here comes Tesman with Judge Brack.

[MRS. ELVSTED _goes out;_ GEORGE _comes in with_ JUDGE BRACK, _who is a short and elastic gentleman, with a round face, carefully brushed hair, and distinguished profile._] How awfully funny you do look by daylight, Judge!

BRACK.

[_Holding his hat and dropping his eye-gla.s.s._] Sincerest thanks. Still the same graceful manners, dear little Mrs. Hed--Tesman! I came to invite dear Tesman to a little bachelor-party to celebrate his return from his long honeymoon. It is customary in Scandinavian society. It will be a lively affair, for I am a gay Norwegian dog.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I am a gay Norwegian dog."]

GEORGE.

Asked out--without my wife! Think of that! Eh? Oh, dear me, yes, _I_'ll come!

BRACK.

By the way, Lovborg is here; he has written a wonderful book, which has made a quite extraordinary sensation. Bless me, yes!

GEORGE.

Lovborg--fancy! Well, I _am_--glad. Such marvellous gifts! And I was so painfully certain he had gone to the bad. Fancy that, eh? But what will become of him _now_, poor fellow, eh? I am so anxious to know!

BRACK.

Well, he may possibly put up for the Professors.h.i.+p against you, and, though you _are_ an uncommonly clever man of letters--for a Norwegian--it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out!

GEORGE.

But, look here, good Lord, Judge Brack!--[_gesticulating_]--that would show an incredible want of consideration for me! I married on my chance of _getting_ that professors.h.i.+p. A man like Lovborg, too, who hasn't even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that!

BRACK.

Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons here, and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself!

[_He goes out._

GEORGE.

[_To_ HEDDA.] Oh, I say, Hedda, what's to become of our fairyland now, eh? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner parties, or have a horse for riding. Fancy that!

HEDDA.

[_Slowly, and wearily._] No, we shall really have to set up as fairies in reduced circ.u.mstances, now.

GEORGE.

[_Cheering up._] Still, we shall see Aunt Julie every day, and _that_ will be something, and I've got back my old slippers. We shan't be altogether without some amus.e.m.e.nts, eh?

HEDDA.

[_Crosses the floor._] Not while I have one thing to amuse myself with, at all events.

GEORGE.

[_Beaming with joy._] Oh, Heaven be praised and thanked for that! My goodness, so you have! And what may _that_ be, Hedda, eh?

HEDDA.

[_At the doorway, with suppressed scorn._] Yes, George you have the old slippers of the attentive aunt, and I have the horse-pistols of the deceased general!

GEORGE.

[_In an agony._] The pistols! Oh, my goodness! _what_ pistols?

HEDDA.

[_With cold eyes._] General Gabler's pistols--same which I shot--[_recollecting herself_]--no, that's Thackeray, not Ibsen--a _very_ different person.

[_She goes through the back drawing-room._

GEORGE.