Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 24
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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--pa.s.s 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!
RuBUB.
[_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?
RuBUB.
_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!
RuBUB.
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 flas.h.i.+ng 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. [_Pa.s.sionately._] 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----
Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 24
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Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas Part 24 summary
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