Mr Punch"s Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master"s Best Known Dramas.
by F. Anstey.
PREFATORY NOTE
_The concluding piece, "Pill-Doctor Herdal," is, as the observant reader will instantly perceive, rather a reverent attempt to tread in the footprints of the Norwegian dramatist, than a version of any actually existing masterpiece. The author is conscious that his imitation is painfully lacking in the mysterious obscurity of the original, that the vein of allegorical symbolism is thinner throughout than it should be, and that the characters are not nearly so mad as persons invariably are in real life--but these are the faults inevitable to a prentice hand, and he trusts that due allowances may be made for them by the critical._
_In conclusion he wishes to express his acknowledgments to Messrs.
Bradbury and Agnew for their permission to reprint the present volume, the contents of which made their original appearance in the pages of "Punch."_
* * * * *
CONTENTS
ROSMERSHoLM
NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE
HEDDA GABLER
THE WILD DUCK
PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL
* * * * *
ROSMERSHoLM
ACT FIRST
_Sitting-room at Rosmersholm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows, ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it._ REBECCA WEST _is sitting knitting a large antimaca.s.sar which is nearly finished. Now and then she looks out of a window, and smiles and nods expectantly to someone outside._ MADAM HELSETH _is laying the table for supper._
REBECCA.
[_Folding up her work slowly._] But tell me precisely, what about this white horse?
[_Smiling quietly._
MADAM HELSETH.
Lord forgive you, Miss!--[_fetching cruet-stand, and placing it on table_]--but you"re making fun of me!
REBECCA.
[_Gravely._] No, indeed. n.o.body makes fun at Rosmersholm. Mr. Rosmer would not understand it. [_Shutting window._] Ah, here is Rector Kroll.
[_Opening door._] You will stay to supper, will you not, Rector, and I will tell them to give us some little extra dish.
KROLL.
[_Hanging up his hat in the hall._] Many thanks. [_Wipes his boots._]
May I come in? [_Comes in, puts down his stick, sits down, and looks about him._] And how do you and Rosmer get on together, eh?
REBECCA.
Ever since your sister, Beata, went mad and jumped into the mill-race, we have been as happy as two little birds together. [_After a pause, sitting down in arm-chair._] So you don"t really mind my living here all alone with Rosmer? We were afraid you might, perhaps.
KROLL.
Why, how on earth--on the contrary, I shouldn"t object at all if you--[_looks at her meaningly_]--h"m!
REBECCA.
[_Interrupting, gravely._] For shame, Rector; how can you make such jokes?
KROLL.
[_As if surprised._] Jokes! We do not joke in these parts--but here is Rosmer.
[_Enter_ ROSMER, _gently and softly._
ROSMER.
So, my dear old friend, you have come again, after a year"s absence.
[_Sits down._] We almost thought that----
KROLL.
[_Nods._] So Miss West was saying--but you are quite mistaken. I merely thought I might remind you, if I came, of our poor Beata"s suicide, so I kept away. We Norwegians are not without our simple tact.
ROSMER.
It was considerate--but unnecessary. Reb--I _mean_, Miss West--and I often allude to the incident, do we not?
REBECCA.
[_Strikes Tandstickor._] Oh yes, indeed. [_Lighting lamp._] Whenever we feel a little more cheerful than usual.
KROLL.
You dear good people! [_Wanders up the room._] I came because the Spirit of Revolt has crept into my School. A Secret Society has existed for weeks in the Lower Third! To-day it has come to my knowledge that a b.o.o.by trap was prepared for me by the hand of my own son, Laurits, and I then discovered that a hair had been inserted in my cane by my daughter Hilda! The only way in which a right-minded Schoolmaster can combat this anarchic and subversive spirit is to start a newspaper, and I thought that you, as a weak, credulous, inexperienced and impressionable kind of man, were the very person to be the Editor.
[REBECCA _laughs softly, as if to herself._ ROSMER _jumps up and sits down again._
REBECCA.
[_With a look at Rosmer._] Tell him now!