Генрик Ибсен - The Master Builder

SOLNESS.

It's no light matter to owe you anything, Hilda.

HILDA.

You should have thought of that before. It is too late now. So—[tapping the table]—the castle on the table! It is my castle! I will have it at once!

SOLNESS.

[More seriously, leans over towards her, with his arms on the table.] What sort of castle have you imagined, Hilda?

[Her expression becomes more and more veiled. She seems gazing inwards at herself.

HILDA.

[Slowly.] My castle shall stand on a height—on a very great height—with a clear outlook on all sides, so that I can see far—far around.

SOLNESS.

And no doubt it is to have a high tower!

HILDA.

A tremendously high tower. And at the very top of the tower there shall be a balcony. And I will stand out upon it—

SOLNESS.

[Involuntarily clutches at his forehead.] How can you like to stand at such a dizzy height—?

HILDA.

Yes, I will! Right up there will I stand and look down on the other people—on those that are building churches, and homes for mother and father and the troop of children. And you may come up and look on at it, too.

SOLNESS.

[In a low tone.] Is the builder to be allowed to come up beside the princess?

HILDA.

If the builder will.

SOLNESS.

[More softly.] Then I think the builder will come.

HILDA.

[Nods.] The builder—he will come.

SOLNESS.

But he will never be able to build any more. Poor builder!

HILDA.

[Animated.] Oh, yes, he will! We two will set to work together. And then we will build the loveliest—the very loveliest—thing in all the world.

SOLNESS.

[Intently.] Hilda—tell me what that is!

HILDA.

[Looks smilingly at him, shakes her head a little, pouts, and speaks as if to a child.] Builders—they are such very—very stupid people.

SOLNESS.

Yes, no doubt they are stupid. But now tell me what it is—the loveliest thing in the world—that we two are to build together?

HILDA.

[Is silent a little while, then says with an indefinable expression in her eyes.] Castles in the air.

SOLNESS.

Castles in the air?

HILDA.

[Nods.] Castles in the air, yes! Do you know what sort of thing a castle in the air is?

SOLNESS.

It is the loveliest thing in the world, you say.

HILDA.

[Rises with vehemence, and makes a gesture of repulsion with her hand.] Yes, to be sure it is! Castles in the air—they are so easy to build, too—[looks scornfully at him]—especially for the builders who have a—a dizzy conscience.

SOLNESS.

[Rises.] After this day we two will build together, Hilda.

HILDA.

[With a half–dubious smile.] A real castle in the air?

SOLNESS.

Yes. One with a firm foundation under it.

RAGNAR BROVIK comes out from the house. He is carrying a large green wreath with flowers and silk ribbons.

HILDA.

[With an outburst of pleasure.] The wreath! Oh, that will be glorious!

SOLNESS.

[In surprise.] Have you brought the wreath Ragnar?

RAGNAR.

I promised the foreman I would.

SOLNESS.

[Relieved.] Ah, then I suppose you father is better?

RAGNAR.

No.

SOLNESS.

Was he not cheered by what I wrote?

RAGNAR.

It came too late.

SOLNESS.

Too late!

RAGNAR.

When she came with it he was unconscious. He had had a stroke.

SOLNESS.

Why, then, you must go home to him! You must attend to your father!

RAGNAR.

He does not need me any more.

SOLNESS.

But surely you ought to be with him.

RAGNAR.

She is sitting by his bed.

SOLNESS.

[Rather uncertainly.] Kaia?

RAGNAR.

[Looking darkly at him.] Yes—Kaia.

SOLNESS.

Go home, Ragnar—both to him and to her. Give me the wreath.

RAGNAR.

[Suppresses a mocking smile.] You don't mean that you yourself—?

SOLNESS.

I will take it down to them myself [Takes the wreath from him.] And now you go home; we don't require you to–day.

RAGNAR.

I know you do not require me any more; but to–day I shall remain.

SOLNESS.

Well, remain then, since you are bent upon it.

HILDA.

[At the railing.] Mr. Solness, I will stand here and look on at you.

SOLNESS.

At me!

HILDA.

It will be fearfully thrilling.

SOLNESS.

[In a low tone.] We will talk about that presently, Hilda.

[He goes down the flight of steps with the wreath, and away through the garden.

HILDA.

[Looks after him, then turns to RAGNAR.] I think you might at least have thanked him

RAGNAR.

Thanked him? Ought I to have thanked him?

HILDA.

Yes, of course you ought!

RAGNAR.

I think it is rather you I ought to thank.

HILDA.

How can you say such a thing?

RAGNAR.

[Without answering her.] But I advise you to take care, Miss Wangel! For you don't know him rightly yet.

HILDA.

[Ardently.] Oh, no one knows him as I do!

RAGNAR.

[Laughs in exasperation.] Thank him, when he has held me down year after year! When he made father disbelieve in me—made me disbelieve in myself! And all merely that he might—!

HILDA.

[As if divining something.] That he might—? Tell me at once!

RAGNAR.

That he might keep her with him.

HILDA.

[With a start towards him.] The girl at the desk.

RAGNAR.

Yes.

HILDA.

[Threateningly, clenching her hands.] That is not true! You are telling falsehoods about him!

RAGNAR.

I would not believe it either until to–day—when she said so herself.

HILDA.

[As if beside herself.] What did she say? I will know! At once! at once!

RAGNAR.

She said that he had taken possession of her mind—her whole mind—centred all her thoughts upon himself alone. She says that she can never leave him—that she will remain here, where he is—

HILDA.

[With flashing eyes.] She will not be allowed to!

RAGNAR.

[As if feeling his way.] Who will not allow her?

HILDA.

[Rapidly.] He will not either!

RAGNAR.

Oh no—I understand the whole thing now. After this, she would merely be—in the way.

HILDA.

You understand nothing—since you can talk like that! No, I will tell you why he kept hold of her.

RAGNAR.

Well then, why?

HILDA.

In order to keep hold of you.

RAGNAR.

Has he told you so?

HILDA.

No, but it is so. It must be so! [Wildly.] I will—I will have it so!

RAGNAR.

And at the very moment when you came—he let her go.

HILDA.

It was you—you that he let go! What do you suppose he cares about strange women like her?

RAGNAR.

[Reflects.] Is it possible that all this time he has been afraid of me?

HILDA.

He afraid! I would not be so conceited if I were you.

RAGNAR.

Oh, he must have seen long ago that I had something in me, too. Besides—cowardly—that is just what he is, you see.

HILDA.

He! Oh yes, I am likely to believe that!

RAGNAR.

In a certain sense he is cowardly—he, the great master builder. He is not afraid of robbing others of their happiness—as he has done both for my father and me. But when it comes to climbing up a paltry bit of scaffolding—he will do anything rather than that.

HILDA.

Oh, you should just have seen him high, high up—at the dizzy height where I once saw him.

RAGNAR.

Did you see that?

HILDA.

Yes, indeed I did. How free and great he looked as he stood and fastened the wreath to the church vane!

RAGNAR.

I know that he ventured that, once in his life—one solitary time. It is a legend among us younger men. But no power on earth would induce him to do it again.