Chapter I: Front Matter

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MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN

_A COLLECTION OF SOME OF THE MASTER'S BEST-KNOWN DRAMAS_ CONDENSED,
REVISED, AND SLIGHTLY RE-ARRANGED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE EARNEST STUDENT

BY

F. ANSTEY

AUTHOR OF "VICE VERSA," "VOCES POPULI," ETC.

_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY BERNARD PARTRIDGE_

LONDON WILLIAM HEINEMANN 1893

[_All rights reserved_]

* * * * *

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

ROSMERSHOeLM

NORA; OR, THE BIRD-CAGE

HEDDA GABLER

THE WILD DUCK

PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL

* * * * *

ROSMERSHOeLM

ACT FIRST

_Sitting-room at Rosmershoelm, with a stove, flower-stand, windows,
ancient and modern ancestors, doors, and everything handsome about it._
REBECCA WEST _is sitting knitting a large antimacassar 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. Nobody makes fun at Rosmershoelm. 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 Taendstickor._] 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 booby 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!

ROSMER.

[_Returning the look._] I can't--Some other evening. Well, perhaps---- [_To_ KROLL.] I can't be your Editor--because [_in a low voice_] I--I am on the side of Laurits and Hilda!

KROLL.

[_Looks from one to the other, gloomily._] H'm!

ROSMER.

Yes. Since we last met, I have changed my views. I am going to create a new democracy, and awaken it to its true task of making all the people of this country noblemen, by freeing their wills, and purifying their minds!

KROLL.

What _do_ you mean!

[_Takes up his hat._

ROSMER.

[_Bowing his head._] I don't quite know, my dear friend; it was Reb---- I should say Miss West's scheme.

KROLL.

H'm! [_A suspicion appears in his face._] Now I begin to believe that what Beata said about schemes----no matter. But under the circumstances, I will _not_ stay to supper.

[_Takes up his stick, and walks out._

ROSMER.

I _told_ you he would be annoyed. I shall go to bed now. I don't want any supper.

[_He lights a candle, and goes out; presently his footsteps
are heard overhead, as he undresses._ REBECCA _pulls a bell-rope._

REBECCA.

[_To_ MADAM HELSETH, _who enters with dishes._] No, Mr. Rosmer will not have supper to-night. [_In a lighter tone._] Perhaps he is afraid of the nightmare. There are so many sorts of White Horses in this world!

MADAM HELSETH.

[_Shaking._] Lord! lord! that Miss West--the things she does say!

[REBECCA _goes out through door, knitting antimacassar thoughtfully,
as Curtain falls._

* * * * *

ACT SECOND

ROSMER'S _study. Doors and windows, bookshelves, a writing-table. Door,
with curtain, leading to_ ROSMER'S _bedroom._ ROSMER _discovered in a
smoking jacket cutting a pamphlet with a paper-knife. There is a knock
at the door._ ROSMER _says "Come in."_ REBECCA _enters in a morning
wrapper and curl-papers. She sits on a chair close to_ ROSMER, _and
looks over his shoulder as he cuts the leaves._ RECTOR KROLL _is shown
up._

KROLL.

[_Lays his hat on the table and looks at_ REBECCA _from head to foot._] I am really afraid that I am in the way.

REBECCA.

[_Surprised._] Because I am in my morning wrapper and curl-papers? You forget that I am _emancipated_, Rector Kroll.

[_She leaves them and listens behind curtain in_ ROSMER'S _bedroom_.

ROSMER.

Yes, Miss West and I have worked our way forward in faithful comradeship.

KROLL.

[_Shakes his head at him slowly._] So I perceive. Miss West is naturally inclined to be forward. But, I say, _really_ you know----However, I came to tell you that poor Beata was not so mad as she looked, though flowers _did_ bewilder her so. [_Taking off his gloves meaningly._] She jumped into the mill-race because she had an idea that you ought to marry Miss West!

ROSMER.

[_Jumps half up from his chair._] I? Marry--Miss West! My good gracious, Kroll! I don't _understand_, it is _most_ incomprehensible. [_Looks fixedly before him._] How _can_ people?----[_Looks at him for a moment, then rises._] Will you get out? [_Still quiet and self-restrained._] But first tell me why you never mentioned this before?

KROLL.

Why? Because I thought you were both orthodox, which made all the difference. Now I know that you side with Laurits and Hilda, and mean to make the democracy into noblemen, and accordingly I intend to make it hot for you in my paper. _Good_ morning!

[_He slams the door with spite as_ REBECCA _enters from bedroom._

ROSMER.

[_As if surprised._] You--in my bedroom! You have been listening, dear? But you _are_ so emancipated.

Ah, well! so our pure and beautiful friendship has been misinterpreted, bespattered! Just because you wear a morning wrapper, and have lived here alone for a year, people with coarse souls and ignoble eyes make unpleasant remarks! But what really _did_ drive Beata mad? _Why_ did she jump into the mill-race? I'm sure we did everything we could to spare her! I made it the business of my life to keep her in ignorance of all our interests--_didn't_ I, now?

REBECCA.

You did. But why brood over it? What _does_ it matter? Get on with your great beautiful task, dear--[_approaching him cautiously from behind_]--winning over minds and wills, and creating noblemen, you know--_joyful_ noblemen!

ROSMER.

[_Walking about restlessly, as if in thought._] Yes, I know. I have never laughed in the whole course of my life--we Rosmers don't--and so I felt that spreading gladness and light, and making the democracy joyful, was properly my mission. But _now_--I feel too upset to go on, Rebecca, unless----[_Shakes his head heavily._] Yes, an idea has just occurred to me----[_Looks at her, and then runs his hands through his hair_]--Oh, my goodness! No--I _can't_.

[_He leans his elbows on table._

REBECCA.

Be a free man to the full, Rosmer--tell me your idea.

ROSMER.

[_Gloomily._] I don't know what you'll say to it. It's this: Our platonic comradeship was all very well while I was peaceful and happy. Now that I am bothered and badgered, I feel--_why_, I can't exactly explain, but I _do_ feel that I must oppose a new and living reality to the gnawing memories of the past. I should perhaps, explain that this is equivalent to an Ibsenian proposal.

REBECCA.

[_Catches at the chair-back with joy._] How? at _last_--a rise at last! [_Recollects herself._] But what am I about? Am I not an emancipated enigma? [_Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror._] What are you saying? You mustn't. I can't _think_ what you mean. Go away, do!

ROSMER.

[_Softly._] Be the new and living reality. It is the only way to put Beata out of the Saga. Shall we try it?

REBECCA.

Never! Do not--_do_ not ask me why--for I haven't a notion--but never! [_Nods slowly to him and rises._] White Horses would not induce me! [_With her hand on door-handle._] Now you _know_!

[_She goes out._

ROSMER.

[_Sits up, stares, thunderstruck, at the stove, and says to himself._] Well--I--_am_----

[_Quick Curtain._

* * * * *

ACT THIRD

_Sitting-room at Rosmershoelm. Sun shining outside in the Garden. Inside_
REBECCA WEST _is watering a geranium with a small watering-pot. Her
crochet antimacassar lies in the arm-chair._ MADAME HELSETH _is rubbing
the chairs with furniture-polish from a large bottle. Enter_ ROSMER,
_with his hat and stick in his hand._ MADAME HELSETH _corks the bottle
and goes out to the right_.

REBECCA.

Good morning, dear. [_A moment after_--_crocheting._] Have you seen Rector Kroll's paper this morning? There's something about _you_ in it.

ROSMER.

Oh, indeed? [_Puts down hat and stick, and takes up paper._] H'm! [_Reads_--_then walks about the room._] Kroll _has_ made it hot for me. [_Reads some more._] Oh, this is _too_ bad! Rebecca, they _do_ say such nasty spiteful things! they actually call me a renegade--and I can't _think_ why! They _mustn't_ go on like this. All that is good in human nature will go to ruin if they're allowed to attack an excellent man like me! Only think, if I can make them see how unkind they have been!

REBECCA.

Yes, dear, in that you have a great and glorious object to attain--and I wish you may get it!

ROSMER.

Thanks. I think I shall. [_Happens to look through window and jumps._] Ah, no, I shan't--never now, I have just seen----

REBECCA.

_Not_ the White Horse, dear? We must really not overdo that White Horse!

ROSMER.

No--the mill-race, where Beata----[_Puts on his hat_--_takes it off again._] I'm beginning to be haunted by--no, I _don't_ mean the Horse--by a terrible suspicion that Beata may have been right after all! Yes, I do believe, now I come to think of it, that I must really have been in love with you from the first. Tell me _your_ opinion.

REBECCA.

[_Struggling with herself, and still crocheting._] Oh--I can't exactly say--such an odd question to ask me!

ROSMER.

[_Shakes his head._] Perhaps; I have no sense of humour--no respectable Norwegian _has_--and I _do_ want to know--because, you see, if I _was_ in love with you, it was a _sin_, and if I once convinced myself of that----

[_Wanders across the room._

REBECCA.

[_Breaking out._] Oh, these old ancestral prejudices! Here is your hat, and your stick, too; go and take a walk.

[ROSMER _takes hat and stick, first, then goes out and takes a walk; presently_ MADAM HELSETH _appears, and tells_ REBECCA _something._ REBECCA _tells her something. They whisper together._ MADAM HELSETH _nods, and shows in_ RECTOR KROLL, _who keeps his hat in his hand, and sits on a chair._

KROLL.

I merely called for the purpose of informing you that I consider you an artful and designing person, but that, on the whole, considering your birth and moral antecedents, you know--[_nods at her_]--it is not surprising. [REBECCA _walks about wringing her hands._] Why, what _is_ the matter? Did you really not know that you had no right to your father's name? I'd no _idea_ you would mind my mentioning such a trifle!

REBECCA.

[_Breaking out._] I _do_ mind. I am an emancipated enigma, but I retain a few little prejudices still. I _don't_ like owning to my real age, and I _do_ prefer to be legitimate. And, after your information--of which I was quite ignorant, as my mother, the late Mrs. Gamvik, never _once_ alluded to it--I feel I must confess everything. Strong-minded advanced women are like that. Here is Rosmer. [ROSMER _enters with his hat and stick._] Rosmer, I want to tell you and Rector Kroll a little story. Let us sit down, dear, all three of us. [_They sit down, mechanically, on chairs._] A long time ago, before the play began--[_in a voice scarcely audible_]--in Ibsenite dramas, all the interesting things somehow _do_ happen before the play begins----

ROSMER.

But, Rebecca, I _know_ all this.

KROLL.

[_Looks hard at her._] Perhaps I had better go?

REBECCA.

No--I will be short. This was it. I wanted to take my share in the life of the New Era, and march onward with Rosmer. There was one dismal, insurmountable barrier--[_to_ ROSMER, _who nods gravely_]--Beata! I understood where your deliverance lay--and I acted. _I_ drove Beata into the mill-race.... There!

ROSMER.

[_After a short silence._] H'm! Well, Kroll--[_takes up his hat_]--if you're thinking of walking home, I'll go too. I'm going to be orthodox once more--after _this!_

KROLL.

[_Severely and impressively, to_ REBECCA.] A nice sort of young woman _you_ are! [_Both go out hastily, without looking at_ REBECCA.

REBECCA.

[_Speaks to herself, under her breath._] Now I _have_ done it. I wonder _why_. [_Pulls bell-rope._] Madam Helseth, I have just had a glimpse of two rushing White Horses. Bring down my hair-trunk.

[_Enter_ MADAM HELSETH, _with large hair-trunk, as Curtain falls._

* * * * *