Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
[_Voicelessly._] None--not even a postcard! Oh, Torvald, don't, please, go and look--_promise_ me you won't! I do _a.s.sure_ you there isn't a letter! And I've forgotten the Tarantella you taught me--do let's run over it. I'm so afraid of breaking down--promise me not to look at the letter-box. I can't dance unless you do.
HELMER.
[_Standing still, on his way to the letter-box._] I am a man of strict business habits, and some powers of observation; my little squirrel's a.s.surances that there is nothing in the box, combined with her obvious anxiety that I should not go and see for myself, satisfy me that it is indeed empty, in spite of the fact that I have not invariably found her a strictly truthful little d.i.c.ky-bird. There--there. [_Sits down to piano._] Bang away on your tambourine, little squirrel--dance away, my own lark!
NORA.
[_Dancing, with a long gay shawl._] Just _won't_ the little squirrel!
Faster--faster! Oh, I _do_ feel so gay! We will have some champagne for dinner, _won't_ we, Torvald?
[_Dances with more and more abandonment._
HELMER.
[_After addressing frequent remarks in correction._] Come, come--not this awful wildness! I don't like to see _quite_ such a larky little lark as this.... Really it is time you stopped!
NORA.
[_Her hair coming down as she dances more wildly still, and swings the tambourine._] I can't.... I can't! [_To herself, as she dances._]
I've only thirty-one hours left to be a bird in; and after that--[_shuddering_]--after _that_, Krogstad will let the cat out of the bag!
[_Curtain._
* * * * *
ACT THIRD
_The same room_--_except that the sofa has been slightly moved, and one of the j.a.panese cotton-wool frogs has fallen into the fire-place_. MRS.
LINDEN _sits and reads a book_--_but without understanding a single line_.
MRS. LINDEN.
[_Laying down her book, as a light tread is heard outside_.] Here he is at last! [KROGSTAD _comes in, and stands in the doorway._] Mr. Krogstad, I have given you a secret _rendezvous_ in this room, because it belongs to my employer, Mr. Helmer, who has lately discharged you. The etiquette of Norway permits these slight freedoms on the part of a female cas.h.i.+er.
KROGSTAD.
It does. Are we alone? [NORA _is heard overhead dancing the Tarantella_.] Yes, I hear Mrs. Helmer's fairy footfall above. She dances the Tarantella now--by-and-by she will dance to another tune! [_Changing his tone._] I don't exactly know why you should wish to have this interview--after jilting me as you did, long ago, though?
MRS. LINDEN.
Don't you? _I_ do. I am a widow--a Norwegian widow. And it has occurred to me that there may be a n.o.bler side to your nature somewhere--though you have not precisely the best of reputations.
KROGSTAD.
Right. I am a forger, and a money-lender; I am on the staff of the Norwegian _Punch_--a most scurrilous paper. More, I have been blackmailing Mrs. Helmer by trading on her fears, like a low cowardly cur. But, in spite of all that--[_clasping his hands_]--there are the makings of a fine man about me _yet_, Christina!
MRS. LINDEN.
I believe you--at least, I'll chance it. I want some one to care for, and I'll marry you.
KROGSTAD.
[_Suspiciously._] On condition, I suppose, that I suppress the letter denouncing Mrs. Helmer?
MRS. LINDEN.
How can you think so? I am her dearest friend; but I can still see her faults, and it is my firm opinion that a sharp lesson will do her all the good in the world. She is _much_ too comfortable. So leave the letter in the box, and come home with me.
KROGSTAD.
I am wildly happy! Engaged to the female cas.h.i.+er of the manager who has discharged me, our future is bright and secure!
[_He goes out; and_ MRS. LINDEN _sets the furniture straight; presently a noise is heard outside, and_ HELMER _enters, dragging_ NORA _in. She is in fancy dress, and he in an open black domino._
NORA.
I shan't! It's too early to come away from such a nice party. I _won't_ go to bed!
[_She whimpers._
HELMER.
[_Tenderly._] There'sh a naughty lil' larkie for you, Mrs. Linen!
Poshtively had to drag her 'way! She'sh a capricious lil' girl--from Capri. 'Scuse me!--'fraid I've been and made a pun. Shan' 'cur again!
Shplendid champagne the Consul gave us--'counts for it! [_Sits down smiling._] Do you _knit_, Mrs. Cotton?... You shouldn't. Never knit.
'Broider. [_Nodding to her, solemnly._] 'Member that. Alwaysh _'broider_. More--[_hiccoughing_]--Oriental! Gobblesh you!--goo'ni!
MRS. LINDEN.
I only came in to--to see Nora's costume. Now I've seen it, I'll go.
[_Goes out._
HELMER.
Awful bore that woman--hate bores.h.!.+ [_Looks at_ NORA, _then comes nearer._] Oh, you prillil squillikins, I _do_ love you so! Shomehow, I feel sho lively thishevenin'!
[Ill.u.s.tration: "Oh, you prillil squillikins!"]
NORA.
[_Goes to other side of table._] I won't _have_ all that, Torvald!
HELMER.
Why? ain't you my lil' lark--ain't thish our lil' cage? Ver-_well_, then.
[_A ring._] Rank! confound it all! [_Enter_ Dr. RANK.] Rank, dear old boy, you've been [_hiccoughs_] going it upstairs. Cap'tal champagne, eh?
'_Shamed_ of you, Rank!
