Генрик Ибсен: The Lady from the Sea

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.