The Lady from the Sea - Henrik Ibsen - E-Book

The Lady from the Sea E-Book

Henrik Ibsen

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Bolette. Well, Ballested, does it work smoothly? Ballested. Certainly, Miss Bolette, that's easy enough. May I ask-do you expect any visitors today? Bolette. Yes, we're expecting Mr. Arnholm this morning. He got to town in the night. Ballested. Arnholm? Wait a minute-wasn't Arnholm the man who was tutor here several years ago? Bolette. Yes, it is he. Ballested. Oh, really! Is he coming into these parts again? Bolette. That's why we want to have the flag up. Ballested. Well, that's reasonable enough.

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Seitenzahl: 122

The Lady from the Sea


The Lady from the Sea

Henrik Ibsen


Doctor Wangel.      Ellida Wangel, his second wife.      Bolette,      Hilde (not yet grown up), his daughters by his first wife.      Arnholm (second master at a college).      Lyngstrand.      Ballested.      A Stranger.      Young People of the Town.      Tourists.      Visitors.



(SCENE.—DOCTOR WANGEL'S house, with a large verandah garden in front of and around the house. Under the verandah a flagstaff. In the garden an arbour, with table and chairs. Hedge, with small gate at the back. Beyond, a road along the seashore. An avenue of trees along the road. Between the trees are seen the fjord, high mountain ranges and peaks. A warm and brilliantly clear summer morning.BALLESTED, middle-aged, wearing an old velvet jacket, and a broad-brimmed artist's hat, stands under the flagstaff, arranging the ropes. The flag is lying on the ground. A little way from him is an easel, with an outspread canvas. By the easel on a camp-stool, brushes, a palette, and box of colours.BOLETTE WANGEL comes from the room opening on the verandah. She carries a large vase with flowers, which she puts down on the table.)Bolette. Well, Ballested, does it work smoothly?Ballested. Certainly, Miss Bolette, that's easy enough. May I ask—do you expect any visitors today?Bolette. Yes, we're expecting Mr. Arnholm this morning. He got to town in the night.Ballested. Arnholm? Wait a minute—wasn't Arnholm the man who was tutor here several years ago?Bolette. Yes, it is he.Ballested. Oh, really! Is he coming into these parts again?Bolette. That's why we want to have the flag up.Ballested. Well, that's reasonable enough.(BOLETTE goes into the room again. A little after LYNGSTRAND enters from the road and stands still, interested by the easel and painting gear. He is a slender youth, poorly but carefully dressed, and looks delicate.)Lyngstrand (on the other side of the hedge). Good-morning.Ballested (turning round). Hallo! Good-morning. (Hoists up flag). That's it! Up goes the balloon. (Fastens the ropes, and then busies himself about the easel.) Good-morning, my dear sir. I really don't think I've the pleasure of—Lyngstrand. I'm sure you're a painter.Ballested. Of course I am. Why shouldn't I be?Lyngstrand. Yes, I can see you are. May I take the liberty of coming in a moment?Ballested. Would you like to come in and see?Lyngstrand. I should like to immensely.Ballested. Oh! there's nothing much to see yet. But come in. Come a little closer.Lyngstrand. Many thanks. (Comes in through the garden gate.)Ballested (painting). It's the fjord there between the islands I'm working at.Lyngstrand. So I see.Ballested. But the figure is still wanting. There's not a model to be got in this town.Lyngstrand. Is there to be a figure, too?Ballested. Yes. Here by the rocks in the foreground a mermaid is to lie, half-dead.Lyngstrand. Why is she to be half-dead?Ballested. She has wandered hither from the sea, and can't find her way out again. And so, you see, she lies there dying in the brackish water.Lyngstrand. Ah, I see.Ballested. The mistress of this house put it into my head to do something of the kind.Lyngstrand. What shall you call the picture when it's finished?Ballested. I think of calling it "The Mermaid's End."Lyngstrand. That's capital! You're sure to make something fine of it.Ballested (looking at him). In the profession too, perhaps?Lyngstrand. Do you mean a painter?Ballested. Yes.Lyngstrand. No, I'm not that; but I'm going to be a sculptor. My name is Hans Lyngstrand.Ballested. So you're to be a sculptor? Yes, yes; the art of sculpture is a nice, pretty art in its way. I fancy I've seen you in the street once or twice. Have you been staying here long?Lyngstrand. No; I've only been here a fortnight. But I shall try to stop till the end of the summer.Ballested. For the bathing?Lyngstrand. Yes; I wanted to see if I could get a little stronger.Ballested. Not delicate, surely?Lyngstrand. Yes, perhaps I am a little delicate; but it's nothing dangerous. Just a little tightness on the chest.Ballested. Tush!—a bagatelle! You should consult a good doctor.Lyngstrand. Yes, I thought of speaking to Doctor Wangel one of these times.Ballested. You should. (Looks out to the left.) There's another steamer, crowded with passengers. It's really marvellous how travelling has increased here of late years.Lyngstrand. Yes, there's a good deal of traffic here, I think.Ballested. And lots of summer visitors come here too. I often hear our good town will lose its individuality with all these foreign goings on.Lyngstrand. Were you born in the town?Ballested. No; but I have accla—acclimatised myself. I feel united to the place by the bonds of time and habit.Lyngstrand. Then you've lived here a long time?Ballested. Well—about seventeen or eighteen years. I came here with Skive's Dramatic Company. But then we got into difficulties, and so the company broke up and dispersed in all directions.Lyngstrand. But you yourself remained here?Ballested. I remained, and I've done very well. I was then working chiefly as decorative artist, don't you know.(BOLETTE comes out with a rocking-chair, which she places on the verandah.)Bolette (speaking into the room). Hilde, see if you can find the embroidered footstool for father.Lyngstrand (going up to the verandah, bows). Good-morning, Miss Wangel.Bolette (by the balustrade). What! Is it you, Mr. Lyngstrand? Good-morning. Excuse me one moment, I'm only—(Goes into room.)Ballested. Do you know the family?Lyngstrand. Not well. I've only met the young ladies now and again in company; and I had a chat with Mrs. Wangel the last time we had music up at the "View." She said I might come and see them.Ballested. Now, do you know, you ought to cultivate their acquaintance.Lyngstrand. Yes; I'd been thinking of paying a visit. Just a sort of call. If only I could find some excuse—Ballested. Excuse! Nonsense! (Looking out to the left.) Damn it! (Gathering his things.) The steamer's by the pier already. I must get off to the hotel. Perhaps some of the new arrivals may want me. For I'm a hairdresser, too, don't you know.Lyngstrand. You are certainly very many-sided, sir.Ballested. In small towns one has to try to acclam—acclimatise Oneself in various branches. If you should require anything in the hair line—a little pomatum or such like—you've only to ask for Dancing-master Ballested.Lyngstrand. Dancing master!Ballested. President of the "Wind Band Society," by your leave. We've a concert on this evening up at the "View." Goodbye, goodbye!(He goes out with his painting gear through the garden gate.HILDE comes out with the footstool. BOLETTE brings more flowers. LYNGSTRAND bows to HILDE from the garden below.)Hilde (by the balustrade, not returning his bow). Bolette said you had ventured in today.Lyngstrand. Yes; I took the liberty of coming in for a moment.Hilde. Have you been out for a morning walk?Lyngstrand. Oh, no! nothing came of the walk this morning.Hilde. Have you been bathing, then?Lyngstrand. Yes; I've been in the water a little while. I saw your mother down there. She was going into her bathing-machine.Hilde. Who was?Lyngstrand. Your mother.Hilde. Oh! I see. (She puts the stool in front of the rocking-chair.)Bolette (interrupting). Didn't you see anything of father's boat out on the fjord?Lyngstrand. Yes; I thought I saw a sailing-boat that was steering inland.Bolette. I'm sure that was father. He's been to visit patients on the islands. (She is arranging things on the table.)Lyngstrand (taking a step up the stairs to the verandah). Why, how everything's decorated here with flowers!Bolette. Yes; doesn't it look nice?Lyngstrand. It looks lovely! It looks as if it were some festival day in the house.Hilde. That's exactly what it is.Lyngstrand. I might have guessed it! I'm sure it's your father's birthday.Bolette (warningly to HILDE). Hm—hm!Hilde (taking no notice of her). No, mother's.Lyngstrand. Oh! Your mother's!Bolette (in low voice, angrily). Really, Hilde!Hilde (the same). Let me be! (To LYNGSTRAND.) I suppose you're going home to breakfast now?Lyngstrand (going down steps). Yes, I suppose I must go and get something to eat.Hilde. I'm sure you find the living very good at the hotel!Lyngstrand. I'm not staying at the hotel now. It was too expensive for me.Hilde. Where are you staying, then?Lyngstrand. I'm staying up at Mrs. Jensen's.Hilde. What Mrs. Jensen's?Lyngstrand. The midwife.Hilde. Excuse me, Mr. Lyngstrand, but I really have other matters to attend to Lyngstrand. Oh! I'm sure I ought not to have said that.Hilde. Said what?Lyngstrand. What I said.Hilde (looking contemptuously at him). I don't understand you in the least.Lyngstrand. No, no. But I must say goodbye for the present.Bolette (comes forward to the steps). Good-bye, good-bye, Mr. Lyngstrand. You must excuse us now. But another day—when you've plenty of time—and inclination—you really must come in and see father and the rest of us.Lyngstrand. Yes; thanks, very much. I shall be delighted. (Bows, and goes out through the garden gate. As he goes along the road he bows again towards the verandah.)Hilde (in low voice). Adieu, Monsieur! Please remember me to Mother Jensen.Bolette (in a low voice, shaking her arm). Hilde! You naughty child! Are you quite crazy? He might have heard you.Hilde. Pshaw! Do you think I care about that?Bolette (looking out to the right). Here's father!(WANGEL, in travelling dress and carrying a small bag, comes from the footpath.)Wangel. See! I'm back again, little girls! (He enters through the garden gate.)Bolette (going towards him at the bottom of the garden). Oh! It is delightful that you've come!Hilde (also going up to him). Now have you got off for the whole day, father?Wangel. Oh! no. I must go down to the office for a little while presently. I say—do you know if Arnholm has come?Bolette. Yes; he arrived in the night. We sent to the hotel to enquire.Wangel. Then you've not seen him yet?Bolette. No; but he's sure to come here this morning.Wangel. Yes; he's sure to do that.Hilde (pulling him). Father, now you must look round.Wangel (looking towards the verandah). Yes, I see well enough, child. It's quite festive.Bolette. Now, don't you think we've arranged it nicely?Wangel. I must say you have. Are—are we alone at home now?Hilde. Yes; she's gone to—Bolette (interrupting quickly). Mother has gone to bathe.Wangel (looks lovingly at BOLETTE, and pats her head. Then he says, hesitating). Look here, little ones. Do you want to keep this up all day? And the flag hoisted, too?Hilde. Surely you understand that, father!Wangel. Hm! Yes; but you see—Bolette (looks at him and nods). Surely you can understand we've been doing all this in honour of Mr. Arnholm. When such a good friend comes to see you for the first time—Hilde (smiling, and shaking him). Think! he who used to be Bolette's tutor, father!Wangel (with a half-smile). You're a pair of sly minxes. Well—good heavens—after all, it's but natural we should remember her who is no more with us. Here, Hilde (Gives her his bag), take that down to the office. No, children. I don't like this—the way, I mean. This habit of every year—well—what can one say? I suppose it can't be managed any other way.Hilde (about to go out of garden, and, with the bag, stops short, turns, and points out). Look at that gentleman coming up here. I'm sure it's your tutor.Bolette (looks in that direction). He? (Laughs.) That is good! Do you think that middle-aged fellow is Arnholm?Wangel. Wait a moment, child. Why, by Jove, I do believe it is he. Yes, it certainly is.Bolette (staring at him in quiet amazement). Yes; I almost think—(ARNHOLM, in elegant morning dress, with gold spectacles, and a thin cane, comes along the road. He looks overworked. He looks in at the garden, bows in friendly fashion, and enters by the garden gate.)Wangel (going to meet him). Welcome, dear Arnholm! Heartily welcome back to your old quarters again!Arnholm. Thanks, thanks, Doctor Wangel. A thousand thanks. (They shake hands and walk up the garden together.) And there are the children! (Holds out his hands and looks at them.) I should hardly have known these two again.Wangel. No, I believe you.Arnholm. And yet—perhaps Bolette—yes, I should have known Bolette again.Wangel. Hardly, I think. Why, it is eight—nine years since you saw her. Ah, yes! Many a thing has changed here meanwhile.Arnholm (looking round). I really don't see it; except that the trees have grown remarkably, and that you've set up that arbour.Wangel. Oh! no—outwardly.Arnholm (smiling). And then, of course, you've two grown-up daughters here now.Wangel. Grown up! Well, there's only one grown up.Hilde (aside). Just listen to father!Wangel. But now let's sit down up there on the verandah. It's cooler than here. Won't you?Arnholm. Thanks, thanks, dear doctor.(They go up. WANGEL motions him to the rocking-chair.)Wangel. That's right! Now make yourself comfortable, and rest, for you seem rather tired after your journey.Arnholm. Oh, that's nothing. Here, amid these surroundings Bolette (to WANGEL). Hadn't we better have some soda and syrup in the sitting-room? It's sure to be too hot out here soon.Wangel. Yes, girls. Let's have some soda and syrup, and perhaps a drop of Cognac, too.Bolette. Cognac, too!Wangel. Just a little, in case anyone should like some.Bolette. All right. Hilde, go down to the office with the bag.(BOLETTE goes into the room, and closes the door after her.HILDE takes the bag, and goes through the garden to the back of the house.)Arnholm (who has followed BOLETTE with his eyes). What a splendid—. They are both splendid girls, who've grown up here for you.Wangel (sitting down). Yes; you think so, too?Arnholm. Why, it's simply amazing, how Bolette!—and Hilde, too! But now, you yourself, dear doctor. Do you think of staying here all your life?Wangel. Yes; I suppose so. Why, I've been born and bred here, so to say. I lived here so very happily with—her who left us so early—she whom you knew when you were here before, Arnholm.Arnholm. Yes, yes!Wangel. And now I live here so happily with her who has taken her place. Ah! On the whole, fate has been very good to me.Arnholm. You have no children by your second marriage? Wangel. We had a little boy, two—two and a half years ago. But he didn't stay long. He died when he was four—five months old.Arnholm. Isn't your wife at home today?Wangel. Oh, yes. She's sure to be here soon. She's down there bathing. She does so every blessed day no matter what the weather.Arnholm. Is she ill, then?Wangel. Not exactly ill, although she has been extremely nervous for the last few years—that is to say, she is now and then. I can't make out what really ails her. But to plunge into the sea is her joy and delight.Arnholm. Yes; I remember that of old.Wangel (with an almost imperceptible smile). To be sure! You knew Ellida when you were teacher out there at Skjoldviken.Arnholm. Certainly. She used often to visit at the Parsonage. But I mostly met her when I went to the lighthouse to see her father.Wangel. Those times out there, you may believe me, have set deep marks upon her. The people in the town here can't understand her at all. They call her the "Lady from the Sea."Arnholm. Do they?