Генрик Ибсен: The Master Builder

KAIA.

[Going up to him.] You are feeling very ill this evening, are you not, Uncle?

BROVIK.

Oh, I seem to get worse every day.

RAGNAR.

[Has risen and advances.] You ought to go home, father. Try to get a little sleep—

BROVIK.

[Impatiently.] Go to bed, I suppose? Would you have me stifled outright?

KAIA.

Then take a little walk.

RAGNAR.

Yes, do. I will come with you.

BROVIK.

[With warmth.] I will not go till he comes! I and determined to have it out this evening with—[in a tone of suppressed bitterness]—with him—with the chief.

KAIA.

[Anxiously.] Oh no, uncle,—do wait awhile before doing that!

RAGNAR.

Yes, better wait, father!

BROVIK.

[Draws is breath laboriously.] Ha—ha—! I haven't much time for waiting.

KAIA.

[Listening.] Hush! I hear him on the stairs.

[All three go back to their work. A short silence.

HALVARD SOLNESS comes in through the hall door. He is a man no longer young, but healthy and vigorous, with close–cut curly hair, dark moustache and dark thick eyebrows. He wears a greyish–green buttoned jacket with an upstanding collar and broad lapels. On his head he wears a soft grey felt hat, and he has one or two light portfolios under his arm.

SOLNESS.

[Near the door, points towards the draughtsmen's office, and asks in a whisper:] Are they gone?

KAIA.

[Softly, shaking her] No.

[She takes the shade off her eyes. SOLNESS crosses the room, throws his hat on a chair, places the portfolios on the table by the sofa, and approaches the desk again. KAIA goes on writing without intermission, but seems nervous and uneasy.

SOLNESS.

[Aloud.] What is that you are entering, Miss Fosli?

KAIA.

[Starts.] Oh, it is only something that—

SOLNESS.

Let me look at it, Miss Fosli. [Bends over her, pretends to be looking into the ledger, and whispers:] Kaia!

KAIA.

[Softly, still writing.] Well?

SOLNESS.

Why do you always take that shade off when I come?

KAIA.

[As before.] I look so ugly with it on.

SOLNESS.

[Smiling.] Then you don't like to look ugly, Kaia?

KAIA.

[Half glancing up at him.] Not for all the world. Not in your eyes.

SOLNESS.

[Strokes her hair gently.] Poor, poor little Kaia—

KAIA.

[Bending her head.] Hush—they can hear you!

[SOLNESS strolls across the room to the right, turns and pauses at the door of the draughtsmen's office.

SOLNESS.

Has any one been here for me?

RAGNAR.

[Rising.] Yes, the young couple who want a villa built, out at Lovstrand.

SOLNESS.

[Growling.] Oh, those two! They must wait. I am not quite clear about the plans yet.

RAGNAR.

[Advancing, with some hesitation.] They were very anxious to have the drawings at once.

SOLNESS.

[As before.] Yes, of course—so they all are.

BROVIK.

[Looks up.] They say they are longing so to get into a house of their own.

SOLNESS.

Yes, yes—we know all that! And so they are content to take whatever is offered them. They get a—a roof over their heads—an address—but nothing to call a home. No thank you! In that case, let them apply to somebody else. Tell them that, the next time they call.

BROVIK.

[Pushes his glasses up on to his forehead and looks in astonishment at him.] To somebody else? Are you prepared to give up the commission?

SOLNESS.

[Impatiently.] Yes, yes, yes, devil take it! If that is to be the way of it—. Rather that, than build away at random. [Vehemently.] Besides, I know very little about these people as yet.

BROVIK.

The people are safe enough. Ragnar knows them. He is a friend of the family.

SOLNESS.

Oh, safe—safe enough! That is not at all what I mean. Good lord—don't you understand me either? [Angrily.] I won't have anything to do with these strangers. They may apply to whom they please, so far as I am concerned.

BROVIK.

[Rising.] Do you really mean that?

SOLNESS.

[Sulkily.] Yes I do.—For once in a way. [He comes forward.

[BROVIK exchanges a glance with RAGNAR, who makes a warning gesture. Then BROVIK comes into the front room.

BROVIK.

May I have a few words with you?

SOLNESS.

Certainly.

BROVIK.

[To KAIA.] Just go in there for moment, Kaia.

KAIA.

[Uneasily.] Oh, but uncle—

BROVIK.

Do as I say, child. And shut the door after you.

[KAIA goes reluctantly into the draughtsmen's office, glances anxiously and imploringly at SOLNESS, and shuts the door.

BROVIK.

[Lowering his voice a little.] I don't want the poor children to know how I am.

SOLNESS.

Yes, you have been looking very poorly of late.

BROVIK.

It will soon be all over with me. My strength is ebbing—from day to day.

SOLNESS.

Won't you sit down?

BROVIK.

Thanks—may I?

SOLNESS.

[Placing the arm–chair more conveniently.] Here—take this chair.—And now?

BROVIK.

[Has seated himself with difficulty.] Well, you see, it's about Ragnar. That is what weighs most upon me. What is to become of him?

SOLNESS.

Of course your son will stay with me as long as ever he likes.

BROVIK.

But that is just what he does not like. He feels that he cannot stay here any longer.

SOLNESS.

Why, I should say he was very well off here. But if he wants more money, I should not mind—

BROVIK.

No, no! It is not that. [Impatiently.] But sooner or later he, too, must have a chance of doing something on his own account.

SOLNESS.

[Without looking at him.] Do you think that Ragnar has quite talent enough to stand alone?

BROVIK.

No, that is just the heartbreaking part of it—I have begun to have my doubts about the boy. For you have never said so much as—as one encouraging word about him. And yet I cannot but think there must be something in him—he can't be without talent.

SOLNESS.

Well, but he has learnt nothing—nothing thoroughly, I mean. Except, of course, to draw.

BROVIK.

[Looks at him with covert hatred, and says hoarsely.] You had learned little enough of the business when you were in my employment. But that did not prevent you from setting to work—[breathing with difficulty]—and pushing your way up, and taking the wind out of my sails—mine, and so may other people's.

SOLNESS.

Yes, you see—circumstances favoured me.

BROVIK.

You are right there. Everything favoured you. But then how can you have the heart to let me go to my grave—without having seen what Ragnar is fit for? And of course I am anxious to see them married, too—before I go.

SOLNESS.

[Sharply.] Is it she who wishes it?

BROVIK.

Not Kaia so much as Ragnar—he talks about it every day. [Appealingly.] You must help him to get some independent work now! I must see something that the lad has done. Do you hear?

SOLNESS.

[Peevishly.] Hang it, man, you can't expect me to drag commissions down from the moon for him!

BROVIK.

He has the chance of a capital commission at this very moment. A big bit of work.

SOLNESS.

[Uneasily, startled.] Has he?

BROVIK.

I you would give your consent.

SOLNESS.

What sort of work do you mean?

BROVIK.

[With some hesitation.] He can have the building of that villa out at Lovstrand.

SOLNESS.

That! Why I am going to build that myself.

BROVIK.

Oh you don't much care about doing it.

SOLNESS.

[Flaring up.] Don't care! Who dares to say that?

BROVIK.

You said so yourself just now.

SOLNESS.

Oh, never mind what I say.—Would they give Ragnar the building of that villa?