Генрик Ибсен - When We Dead Awaken

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Has risen slowly and involuntarily, and stands staring at the closed door of the pavilion.] Who was that lady?

THE INSPECTOR.

She is a stranger who has rented the little pavilion there.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

A foreigner?

THE INSPECTOR.

Presumably. At any rate they both came from abroad—about a week ago. They have never been here before.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Decidedly; looking at him.] It was she I saw in the park last night.

THE INSPECTOR.

No doubt it must have been. I thought so from the first.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

What is this lady's name, Inspector?

THE INSPECTOR.

She has registered herself as "Madame de Satow, with companion." We know nothing more.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Reflecting.] Satow? Satow—?

MAIA. [Laughing mockingly.] Do you know any one of that name, Rubek? Eh?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Shaking his head.] No, no one.—Satow? It sounds Russian—or in all events Slavonic. [To the INSPECTOR.] What language does she speak?

THE INSPECTOR.

When the two ladies talk to each other, it is in a language I cannot make out at all. But at other times she speaks Norwegian like a native.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Exclaims with a start.] Norwegian? You are sure you are not mistaken?

THE INSPECTOR.

No, how could I be mistaken in that?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looks at him with eager interest.] You have heard her yourself?

THE INSPECTOR.

Yes. I myself have spoken to her—several times.—Only a few words, however; she is far from communicative. But—

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

But Norwegian it was?

THE INSPECTOR.

Thoroughly good Norwegian—perhaps with a little north–country accent.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Gazing straight before him in amazement, whispers.] That too?

MAIA.

[A little hurt and jarred.] Perhaps this lady has been one of your models, Rubek? Search your memory.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looks cuttingly at her.] My models?

MAIA.

[With a provoking smile.] In your younger days, I mean. You are said to have had innumerable models—long ago, of course.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[In the same tone.] Oh no, little Frau Maia. I have in reality had only one single model. One and only one—for everything I have done.

THE INSPECTOR.

[Who has turned away and stands looking out to the left.] If you'll excuse me, I think I will take my leave. I see some one coming whom it is not particularly agreeable to meet. Especially in the presence of ladies.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looking in the same direction.] That sportsman there? Who is it?

THE INSPECTOR.

It is a certain Mr. Ulfheim, from—

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Oh, Mr. Ulfheim—

THE INSPECTOR. —the bear–killer, as they call him—

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

I know him.

THE INSPECTOR.

Who does not know him?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Very slightly, however. Is he on your list of patients—at last?

THE INSPECTOR.

No, strangely enough—not as yet. He comes here only once a year—on his way up to his hunting–grounds.—Excuse me for the moment—

[Makes a movement to go into the hotel.

ULFHEIM's VOICE.

[Heard outside.] Stop a moment, man! Devil take it all, can't you stop? Why do you always scuttle away from me?

THE INSPECTOR.

[Stops.] I am not scuttling at all, Mr. Ulfheim.

[ULFHEIM enters from the left followed by a servant with a couple of sporting dogs in leash. ULFHEIM is in shooting costume, with high boots and a felt hat with a feather in it. He is a long, lank, sinewy personage, with matted hair and beard, and a loud voice. His appearance gives no precise clue to his age, but he is no longer young.]

ULFHEIM.

[Pounces upon the INSPECTOR.] Is this a way to receive strangers, hey? You scamper away with your tail between your legs—as if you had the devil at your heels.

THE INSPECTOR.

[Calmly, without answering him.] Has Mr. Ulfheim arrived by the steamer?

ULFHEIM.

[Growls.] Haven't had the honour of seeing any steamer. [With his arms akimbo.] Don't you know that I sail my own cutter? [To the SERVANT.] Look well after your fellow–creatures, Lars. But take care you keep them ravenous, all the same. Fresh meat–bones—but not too much meat on them, do you hear? And be sure it's reeking raw, and bloody. And get something in your own belly while you're about it. [Aiming a kick at him.] Now then, go to hell with you!

[The SERVANT goes out with the dogs, behind the corner of the hotel.]

THE INSPECTOR.

Would not Mr. Ulfheim like to go into the dining–room in the meantime?

ULFHEIM.

In among all the half–dead flies and people? No, thank you a thousand times, Mr. Inspector.

THE INSPECTOR.

Well, well, as you please.

ULFHEIM.

But get the housekeeper to prepare a hamper for me as usual. There must be plenty of provender in it—and lots of brandy—! You can tell her that I or Lars will come and play Old Harry with her if she doesn't—

THE INSPECTOR.

[Interrupting.] We know your ways of old. [Turning.] Can I give the waiter any orders, Professor? Can I send Mrs. Rubek anything?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

No thank you; nothing for me.

MAIA.

Nor for me.

[The INSPECTOR goes into the hotel.

ULFHEIM.

[Stares at them for a moment; then lifts his hat.] Why, blast me if here isn't a country tyke that has strayed into regular tip–top society.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looking up.] What do you mean by that, Mr. Ulfheim?

ULFHEIM.

[More quietly and politely.] I believe I have the honour of addressing no less a person than the great Sculptor Rubek.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Nods.] I remember meeting you once or twice—the autumn when I was last at home.

ULFHEIM.

That's many years ago, now. And then you weren't so illustrious as I hear you've since become. At that time even a dirty bear–hunter might venture to come near you.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Smiling.] I don't bite even now.

MAIA.

[Looks with interest at ULFHEIM.] Are you really and truly a bear–hunter?

ULFHEIM.

[Seating himself at the next table, nearer the hotel.] A bear–hunter when I have the chance, madam. But I make the best of any sort of game that comes in my way—eagles, and wolves, and women, and elks, and reindeer—if only it's fresh and juicy and has plenty of blood in it.

[Drinks from his pocket–flask.

MAIA.

[Regarding him fixedly.] But you like bear–hunting best?

ULFHEIM.

I like it best, yes. For then one can have the knife handy at a pinch. [With a slight smile.] We both work in a hard material, madam—both your husband and I. He struggles with his marble blocks, I daresay; and I struggle with tense and quivering bear–sinews. And we both of us win the fight in the end—subdue and master our material. We never rest till we've got the upper hand of it, though it fight never so hard.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Deep in thought.] There's a great deal of truth in what you say.

ULFHEIM.

Yes, for I take it the stone has something to fight for too. It is dead, and determined by no manner of means to let itself be hammered into life. Just like the bear when you come and prod him up in his lair.

MAIA.

Are you going up into the forests now to hunt?

ULFHEIM.

I am going right up into the high mountain.—I suppose you have never been in the high mountain, madam?

MAIA.

No, never.

ULFHEIM.

Confound it all then, you must be sure and come up there this very summer! I'll take you with me—both you and the Professor, with pleasure.

MAIA.

Thanks. But Rubek is thinking of taking a sea trip this summer.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Round the coast—through the island channels.