Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 14

[MRS. ELVSTED _comes in._

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, please, I'm so uneasy about dear Mr. Lovborg. Something has happened to him, I'm sure!

[JUDGE BRACK _comes in from the hall, with a new hat in his hand._

BRACK.

You have guessed it, first time. Something _has_!

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, dear, good gracious! What is it? Something distressing, I'm certain of it!

[_Shrieks aloud._

BRACK.

[_Pleasantly._] That depends on how one takes it. He has shot himself, and is in a hospital now, that's all!

GEORGE.

[_Sympathetically._] That's sad, eh? poor old Lovborg! Well, I _am_ cut up to hear that. Fancy, though, eh?

HEDDA.

Was it through the temple, or through the breast? The breast? Well, one can do it beautifully through the breast, too. Do you know, as an advanced woman, I like an act of that sort--it's so positive to have the courage to settle the account with himself--it's beautiful, really!

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, Hedda, what an odd way to look at it! But never mind poor dear Mr.

Lovborg now. What _we've_ got to do is to see if we can't put his wonderful ma.n.u.script, that he said he had torn to pieces, together again. [_Takes a bundle of small pages out of the pocket of her mantle._] There are the loose sc.r.a.ps he dictated it to me from. I hid them on the chance of some such emergency. And if dear Mr. Tesman and I were to put our heads together, I _do_ think something might come of it.

GEORGE.

Fancy! I will dedicate my life--or all I can spare of it--to the task. I seem to feel I owe him some slight amends, perhaps. No use crying over spilt milk, eh, Mrs. Elvsted? We'll sit down--just you and I--in the back drawing-room, and see if you can't inspire me as you did him, eh?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, goodness, yes! I should like it--if it only might be possible!

[GEORGE _and_ MRS. ELVSTED _go into the back drawing-room and become absorbed in eager conversation_; HEDDA _sits in a chair in the front room, and a little later_ BRACK _crosses over to her_

HEDDA.

[_In a low tone._] Oh, Judge, _what_ a relief to know that everything--including Lovborg's pistol--went off so well! In the breast!

Isn't there a veil of unintentional beauty in that? Such an act of voluntary courage, too!

BRACK.

[_Smiles._] H'm!--perhaps, dear Mrs. Hedda----

HEDDA.

[_Enthusiastically._] But _wasn't_ it sweet of him! To have the courage to live his own life after his own fas.h.i.+on--to break away from the banquet of life--_so_ early and _so_ drunk! A beautiful act like that _does_ appeal to a superior woman's imagination!

BRACK.

Sorry to shatter your poetical illusions, little Mrs. Hedda, but, as a matter of fact, our lamented friend met his end under other circ.u.mstances. The shot did _not_ strike him in the _breast_--but----

[_Pauses._

HEDDA.

[_Excitedly._] General Gabler's pistols! I might have known it! Did they _ever_ shoot straight? Where _was_ he hit, then?

BRACK.

[_In a discreet undertone._] A little lower down!

HEDDA.

Oh, _how_ disgusting!--how vulgar!--how ridiculous!--like everything else about me!

BRACK.

Yes, we're realistic types of human nature, and all that--but a trifle squalid, perhaps. And why did you give Lovborg your pistol, when it was certain to be traced by the police? For a charming cold-blooded woman with a clear head and no scruples, wasn't it just a leetle foolis.h.!.+

HEDDA.

Perhaps; but I wanted him to do it beautifully, and he didn't! Oh, I've just admitted that I _did_ give him the pistol--how annoyingly unwise of me! Now I'm in _your_ power, I suppose?

BRACK.

Precisely--for some reason it's not easy to understand. But it's inevitable, and you know how you dread anything approaching scandal. All your past proceedings show that. [_To_ GEORGE _and_ MRS. ELVSTED _who come in together from the back-room._] Well, how are you getting on with the reconstruction of poor Lovborg's great work, eh?

GEORGE.

Capitally; we've made out the first two parts already. And really, Hedda, I do believe Mrs. Elvsted _is_ inspiring me; I begin to feel it coming on. Fancy that!

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, goodness! Hedda, _won't_ it be lovely if I can. I mean to try _so_ hard!

HEDDA.

Do, you dear little silly rabbit; and while you are trying I will go into the back drawing-room and lie down.