Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen – A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas

ACT FOUR

Late evening. Rebecca West stands by a lighted lamp, with a shade over it, packing sandwiches, &c., in a reticule, with a faint smile. The antimacassar is on the sofa. Enter Rosmer.

Rosmer

[Seeing the sandwiches, &c.] Sandwiches? Then you are going! Why, on earth – I can't understand!

Rebecca

Dear, you never can. Rosmershölm is too much for me. But how did you get on with Kroll?

Rosmer

We have made it up. He has convinced me that the work of ennobling men was several sizes too large for me – so I am going to let it alone —

Rebecca

[With her faint smile.] There I almost think, dear, that you are wise.

Rosmer

[As if annoyed.] What, so you don't believe in me either, Rebecca – you never did!

[Sits listlessly on chair

Rebecca

Not much, dear, when you are left to yourself – but I've another confession to make.

Rosmer

What, another? I really can't stand any more confessions just now!

Rebecca

[Sitting close to him.] It is only a little one. I bullied Beata into the mill-race – because of a wild uncontrollable – [Rosmer moves uneasily.] Sit still, dear – uncontrollable fancy – for you!

Rosmer

[Goes and sits on sofa.] Oh, my goodness, Rebecca – you mustn't, you know!

[He jumps up and down as if embarrassed

Rebecca

Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve – little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the Rosmer view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The Rosmer view of life is ennobling, very – but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you.

Rosmer

[Turning it off.] Isn't that enough for one evening?

Rebecca

[Almost voiceless.] No, dear. I have a Past —behind me!

Rosmer

Behind you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. [Starts, as if in fear.] A joke! [Sadly.] Ah, no —no, I must not give way to that! Never mind the Past, Rebecca; I once thought that I had made the grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see now it was too daring, too original – an immature dream. What bothers me is that I can't – somehow I can't– believe entirely in you – I am not even sure that I have ennobled you so very much —isn't it terrible?

Rebecca

[Wringing her hands.] Oh, this killing doubt! [Looks darkly at him.] Is there anything I can do to convince you?

Rosmer

[As if impelled to speak against his will.] Yes, one thing – only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now, unless – well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like Beata!

Rebecca

[Takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her head.] Anything to oblige you.

Rosmer

[Springs up.] What? You really will! You are sure you don't mind? Then, Rebecca, I will go further. I will even go – yes – as far as you go yourself!

Rebecca.

[Bows her head towards his breast.] You will see me off? Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite.

[Smiles almost imperceptibly

Rosmer

[Cautiously.] I said as far as you go. I don't commit myself further than that. Shall we go?

Rebecca.

First tell me this. Are you going with me, or am I going with you?

Rosmer

A subtle psychological point – but we have not time to think it out here. We will discuss it as we go along. Come!

[Rosmer takes his hat and stick, Rebecca her reticule, with sandwiches. They go out hand-in-hand through the door, which they leave open. The room (as is not uncommon with rooms in Norway) is left empty. Then Madam Helseth enters through another door.

Madam Helseth

The cab, Miss – not here! [Looks out.] Out together – at this time of night – upon my —not on the garden seat? [Looks out of window.] My goodness! what is that white thing on the bridge – the Horse at last! [Shrieks aloud.] And those two sinful creatures running home!

Enter Rosmer and Rebecca, out of breath

Rosmer

[Scarcely able to get the words out.] It's no use, Rebecca – we must put it off till another evening. We can't be expected to jump off a footbridge which already has a White Horse on it. And if it comes to that, why should we jump at all? I know now that I really have ennobled you, which was all I wanted. What would be the good of recovering faith in my mission at the bottom of a mill-pond? No, Rebecca – [Lays his hand on her head] – there is no judge over us, and therefore —

Rebecca

[Interrupting gravely.] We will bind ourselves over in our own recognisances to come up for judgment when called upon.

[Madam Helseth holds on to a chair-back. Rebecca finishes the antimacassar calmly as Curtain falls.

NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE
(ET DIKKISVÖET)

ACT FIRST

A room tastefully filled with cheap Art-furniture. Gimcracks in an étagère: a festoon of chenille monkeys hanging from the gaselier. Japanese fans, skeletons, cotton-wool spiders, frogs and lizards, scattered everywhere about. Drain-pipes with tall dyed grasses. A porcelain stove decorated with transferable pictures. Showily-bound books in book-case. Window. The Visitor's bell rings in the hall outside. The hall-door is heard to open, and then to shut. Presently Nora walks in with parcels; a porter carries a large Christmas-tree after her – which he puts down. Nora gives him a shilling – and he goes out grumbling.

Nora hums contentedly, and eats macaroons. Then Helmer puts his head out of his Manager's room, and Nora hides macaroons cautiously.

Helmer

[Playfully.] Is that my little squirrel twittering – that my lark frisking in here?

Nora

Ess! [To herself.] I have only been married eight years, so these marital amenities have not yet had time to pall!

Helmer

[Threatening with his finger.] I hope the little bird has surely not been digging its beak into any macaroons, eh?

Nora

[Bolting one, and wiping her mouth.] No, most certainly not. [To herself] The worst of being so babyish is – one does have to tell such a lot of taradiddles! [To Helmer.] See what I've bought – it's been such fun! [Hums.

Helmer

[Inspecting parcels.] H'm – rather an expensive little lark!

[Takes her playfully by the ear

Nora

Little birds like to have a flutter occasionally. Which reminds me – [Plays with his coat-buttons.] I'm such a simple ickle sing – but if you are thinking of giving me a Christmas present, make it cash!

Helmer

Just like your poor father, he always asked me to make it cash – he never made any himself! It's heredity, I suppose. Well – well!

[Goes back to his Bank. Nora goes on humming

[Enter Mrs. Linden, doubtfully

Nora

What, Christina – why, how old you look! But then you are poor. I'm not. Torvald has just been made a Bank Manager. [Tidies the room.] Isn't it really wonderfully delicious to be well off? But of course, you wouldn't know. We were poor once, and, do you know, when Torvald was ill, I – [tossing her head] – though I am such a frivolous little squirrel, and all that, I actually borrowed £300 for him to go abroad. Wasn't that clever? Tra-la-la! I shan't tell you who lent it. I didn't even tell Torvald. I am such a mere baby I don't tell him everything. I tell Dr. Rank, though. Oh, I'm so awfully happy I should like to shout, "Dash it all!"

Mrs. Linden

[Stroking her hair.] Do – it is a natural and innocent outburst – you are such a child! But I am a widow, and want employment. Do you think your husband could find me a place as clerk in his Bank? [Proudly.] I am an excellent knitter!

Nora

That would really be awfully funny. [To Helmer, who enters.] Torvald, this is Christina; she wants to be a clerk in your Bank —do let her! She thinks such a lot of you. [To herself.] Another taradiddle!

Helmer

She is a sensible woman, and deserves encouragement. Come along, Mrs. Linden, and we'll see what we can do for you.

[He goes out through the hall with Mrs. Linden, and the front-door is heard to slam after them.

Nora

[Opens door, and calls.] Now, Emmy, Ivar, and Bob, come in and have a romp with Mamma – we will play hide-and-seek. [She gets under the table, smiling in quiet satisfaction; Krogstad enters– Nora pounces out upon him.] Boo!.. Oh, I beg your pardon. I don't do this kind of thing generally– though I may be a little silly.

Krogstad

[Politely.] Don't mention it. I called because I happened to see your husband go out with Mrs. Linden – from which, being a person of considerable penetration, I infer that he is about to give her my post at the Bank. Now, as you owe me the balance of £300, for which I hold your acknowledgment, you will see the propriety of putting a stop to this little game at once.

Nora

But I don't at all – not a little wee bit! I'm so childish, you know – why should I?

[Sitting upright on carpet

Krogstad

I will try to make it plain to the meanest capacity. When you came to me for the loan, I naturally required some additional security. Your father, being a shady Government official, without a penny – for, if he had possessed one, he would presumably have left it to you – without a penny, then – I, as a cautious man of business, insisted upon having his signature as a surety. Oh, we Norwegians are sharp fellows!

Nora

Well, you got papa's signature, didn't you?

Krogstad

Oh, I got it right enough. Unfortunately, it was dated three days after his decease – now, how do you account for that?

Nora

How? Why, as poor Papa was dead, and couldn't sign, I signed for him, that's all! Only somehow I forgot to put the date back. That's how. Didn't I tell you I was a silly, unbusiness like little thing? It's very simple.

Krogstad

Very – but what you did amounts to forgery, notwithstanding. I happen to know, because I'm a lawyer, and have done a little in the forging way myself. So, to come to the point – if I get kicked out, I shall not go alone!

[He bows, and goes out

Nora

It can't be wrong! Why, no one but Krogstad would have been taken in by it! If the Law says it's wrong, the Law's a goose – a bigger goose than poor little me even! [To Helmer, who enters.] Oh, Torvald, how you made me jump!

Helmer

Has anybody called? [Nora shakes her head.] Oh, my little squirrel mustn't tell naughty whoppers. Why, I just met that fellow Krogstad in the hall. He's been asking you to get me to take him back – now, hasn't he?

Nora

[Walking about.] Do just see how pretty the Christmas-tree looks!

Helmer

Never mind the tree – I want to have this out about Krogstad. I can't take him back, because many years ago he forged a name. As a lawyer, a close observer of human nature, and a Bank Manager, I have remarked that people who forge names seldom or never confide the fact to their children – which inevitably brings moral contagion into the entire family. From which it follows, logically, that Krogstad has been poisoning his children for years by acting a part, and is morally lost. [Stretches out his hands to her.] I can't bear a morally lost Bank-cashier about me!

Nora

But you never thought of dismissing him till Christina came!

Helmer

H'm! I've got some business to attend to – so good-bye, little lark!

[Goes into office and shuts door

Nora

[Pale with terror.] If Krogstad poisons his children because he once forged a name, I must be poisoning Emmy, and Bob, and Ivar, because I forged papa's signature! [Short pause; she raises her head proudly.] After all, if I am a doll, I can still draw a logical inference! I mustn't play with the children any more – [hotly] – I don't care – I shall, though! Who cares for Krogstad?

[She makes a face, choking with suppressed tears, as Curtain falls.

ACT SECOND

The room, with the cheap Art-furniture as before – except that the candles on the Christmas tree have guttered down and appear to have been lately blown out. The cotton-wool frogs and the chenille monkeys are disarranged, and there are walking things on the sofa. Nora alone.

Nora

[Putting on a cloak and taking it off again.]

Bother Krogstad! There, I won't think of him. I'll only think of the costume ball at Consul Stenborg's, overhead, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all alone, dressed as a Capri fisher-girl. It struck Torvald that, as I am a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul's guests, and, at the same time, increase his connection at the Bank. Torvald is so practical. [To Mrs. Linden, who comes in with a large cardboard box.] Ah, Christina, so you have brought in my old costume? Would you mind, as my husband's new Cashier, just doing up the trimming for me?

Mrs. Linden

Not at all – is it not part of my regular duties? [Sewing.] Don't you think, Nora, that you see a little too much of Dr. Rank?

Nora

Oh, I couldn't see too much of Dr. Rank! He is so amusing – always talking about his complaints, and heredity, and all sorts of indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear; I hear Torvald.

[Mrs. Linden goes. Enter Torvald from the Manager's room. Nora runs trippingly to him.

Nora

[Coaxing.] Oh, Torvald, if only you won't dismiss Krogstad, you can't think how your little lark would jump about and twitter.

Helmer

The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that, as it is, the little lark is generally engaged in that particular occupation. And I really must get rid of Krogstad. If I didn't, people would say I was under the thumb of my little squirrel here, and then Krogstad and I knew each other in early youth; and when two people knew each other in early youth – [a short pause] – h'm! Besides, he will address me as, "I say, Torvald" – which causes me most painful emotion! He is tactless, dishonest, familiar, and morally ruined – altogether not at all the kind of person to be a Cashier in a Bank like mine.

Nora

But he writes in scurrilous papers – he is on the staff of the Norwegian Punch. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about you, as wicked people did about poor dear papa!

Helmer

Your poor dear papa was not impeccable – far from it. I am– which makes all the difference. I have here a letter giving Krogstad the sack. One of the conveniences of living close to the Bank is, that I can use the housemaids as Bank-messengers. [Goes to door and calls.] Ellen! [Enter parlourmaid.] Take that letter – there is no answer. [Ellen takes it and goes.] That's settled – and now, Nora, as I am going to my private room, it will be a capital opportunity for you to practise the tambourine – thump away, little lark, the doors are double!

[Nods to her and goes in, shutting door

Nora

[Stroking her face.] How am I to get out of this mess? [A ring at the visitors' bell.] Dr. Rank's ring! He shall help me out of it! [Dr. Rank appears in doorway, hanging up his great-coat.] Dear Dr. Rank, how are you?

[Takes both his hands

Dr. Rank

[Sitting down near the stove.] I am a miserable, hypochondriacal wretch – that's what I am. And why am I doomed to be dismal? Why? Because my father died of a fit of the blues! Is that fair – I put it to you?

Nora

Do try to be funnier than that! See, I will show you the flesh-coloured silk tights that I am to wear to-night – it will cheer you up. But you must only look at the feet – well, you may look at the rest if you're good. Aren't they lovely? Will they fit me, do you think?

Dr. Rank

[Gloomily.] A poor fellow with both feet in the grave is not the best authority on the fit of silk stockings. I shall be food for worms before long – I know I shall!

Nora

You mustn't really be so frivolous! Take that! [She hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings; then hums a little.] I want you to do me a great service, Dr. Rank. [Rolling up stockings.] I always liked you. I love Torvald most, of course– but, somehow, I'd rather spend my time with you – you are so amusing!

Dr. Rank

If I am, can't you guess why? [A short silence.] Because I love you! You can't pretend you didn't know it!

Nora

Perhaps not – but it was really too clumsy of you to mention it just as I was about to ask a favour of you! It was in the worst taste! [With dignity.] You must not imagine because I joke with you about silk stockings, and tell you things I never tell Torvald, that I am therefore without the most delicate and scrupulous self-respect! I am really quite a good little doll, Dr. Rank, and now – [sits in rocking chair and smiles] – now I shan't ask you what I was going to!

[Ellen comes in with a card

Nora

[Terrified.] Oh, my goodness!

[Puts it in her pocket

Dr. Rank

Excuse my easy Norwegian pleasantry – but – h'm – anything disagreeable up?

Nora

[To herself.] Krogstad's card! I must tell another whopper! [To Rank.] No, nothing – only – only my new costume. I want to try it on here. I always do try on my dresses in the drawing-room – it's cosier, you know. So go in to Torvald and amuse him till I'm ready.

[Rank goes into Helmer's room, and Nora bolts the door upon him, as Krogstad enters from hall in a fur cap.

Krogstad

Well, I've got the sack, and so I came to see how you are getting on. I mayn't be a nice man, but – [with feeling] – I have a heart! And, as I don't intend to give up the forged I.O.U.. unless I'm taken back, I was afraid you might be contemplating suicide, or something of that kind; and so I called to tell you that, if I were you, I wouldn't. Bad thing for the complexion, suicide – and silly, too, because it wouldn't mend matters in the least. [Kindly.] You must not take this affair too seriously, Mrs. Helmer. Get your husband to settle it amicably by taking me back as Cashier; then I shall soon get the whip-hand of him, and we shall all be as pleasant and comfortable as possible together!

Nora

Not even that prospect can tempt me! Besides, Torvald wouldn't have you back at any price now!

Krogstad

All right, then. I have here a letter, telling your husband all. I will take the liberty of dropping it in the letter-box at your hall-door as I go out. I'll wish you good evening!

[He goes out; presently the dull sound of a thick letter dropping into a wire box is heard.

Nora

[Softly, and hoarsely.] He's done it! How am I to prevent Torvald from seeing it?

Helmer

[Inside the door, rattling.] Hasn't my lark changed its dress yet? [Nora unbolts door.] What – so you are not in fancy costume, after all? [Enters with Rank.] Are there any letters for me in the box there?

Nora

[Voicelessly.] None – not even a postcard! Oh, Torvald, don't, please, go and look —promise me you won't! I do assure 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 assurances 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 dicky-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