Chapter VI: Part 6

Oh, promise, promise! One can promise anything.

SOLNESS.

[_Clenches his hands and crosses the room._] Oh, but this is hopeless, hopeless! Never a ray of sunlight! Not so much as a gleam of brightness to light up our home!

MRS. SOLNESS.

This is no home, Halvard.

SOLNESS.

Oh no, you may well say that. [_Gloomily._] And God knows whether you are not right in saying that it will be no better for us in the new house, either.

MRS. SOLNESS.

It will never be any better. Just as empty—just as desolate—there as here.

SOLNESS.

[_Vehemently._] Why in all the world have we built it then! Can you tell me that?

MRS. SOLNESS.

No; you must answer that question for yourself.

SOLNESS.

[_Glances suspiciously at her._] What do you mean by _that_, Aline?

MRS. SOLNESS.

What do I mean?

SOLNESS.

Yes, in the devil’s name! You said it so strangely—as if you had some hidden meaning in it.

MRS. SOLNESS.

No, indeed, I assure you——

SOLNESS.

[_Comes closer._] Oh, come now—I know what I know. I have both my eyes and my ears about me, Aline—you may depend upon that!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Why, what are you talking about? What is it?

SOLNESS.

[_Places himself in front of her._] Do you mean to say you don’t find a kind of lurking, hidden meaning in the most innocent word I happen to say?

MRS. SOLNESS.

_I_, do you say? _I_ do that?

SOLNESS.

[_Laughs._] Ho-ho-ho! It’s natural enough, Aline! When you have a sick man on your hands——

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Anxiously._] _Sick?_ Are you ill, Halvard?

SOLNESS.

[_Violently._] A half-mad man then! A crazy man! Call me what you will.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Feels blindly for a chair and sits down._] Halvard—for God’s sake——

SOLNESS.

But you are wrong, both you and the doctor. I am not in the state you imagine.

[_He walks up and down the room._ MRS. SOLNESS _follows him
anxiously with her eyes. Finally he goes up to her._

SOLNESS.

[_Calmly._] In reality there is nothing whatever the matter with me.

MRS. SOLNESS.

No, there isn’t, is there? But then what is it that troubles you so?

SOLNESS.

Why _this_, that I often feel ready to sink under this terrible burden of debt——

MRS. SOLNESS.

Debt, do you say? But you owe no one anything, Halvard!

SOLNESS.

[_Softly, with emotion._] I owe a boundless debt to you—to you—to you, Aline.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Rises slowly._] What is behind all this? You may just as well tell me at once.

SOLNESS.

But there is nothing behind it! I have never done you any wrong—not wittingly and wilfully, at any rate. And yet—and yet it seems as though a crushing debt rested upon me and weighed me down.

MRS. SOLNESS.

A debt to me?

SOLNESS.

Chiefly to you.

MRS. SOLNESS.

Then you are—ill after all, Halvard.

SOLNESS.

[_Gloomily._] I suppose I must be—or not far from it. [_Looks towards the door to the right, which is opened at this moment._] Ah! now it grows lighter.

HILDA WANGEL _comes in. She has made some alteration in her
dress, and let down her skirt._

HILDA.

Good morning, Mr. Solness!

SOLNESS.

[_Nods._] Slept well?

HILDA.

Quite deliciously! Like a child in a cradle. Oh—I lay and stretched myself like—like a princess!

SOLNESS.

[_Smiles a little._] You were thoroughly comfortable then?

HILDA.

I should think so.

SOLNESS.

And no doubt you dreamed, too.

HILDA.

Yes, I did. But _that_ was horrid.

SOLNESS.

Was it?

HILDA.

Yes, for I dreamed I was falling over a frightfully high, sheer precipice. Do you never have that kind of dream?

SOLNESS.

Oh yes—now and then——

HILDA.

It’s tremendously thrilling—when you fall and fall——

SOLNESS.

It seems to make one’s blood run cold.

HILDA.

Do you draw your legs up under you while you are falling?

SOLNESS.

Yes, as high as ever I can.

HILDA.

So do I.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Takes her parasol._] I must go into town now, Halvard. [_To HILDA._] And I’ll try to get one or two things that you may require.

HILDA.

[_Making a motion to throw her arms round her neck._] Oh, you dear, sweet Mrs. Solness! You are really much too kind to me! Frightfully kind——

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Deprecatingly, freeing herself._] Oh, not at all. It’s only my duty, so I am very glad to do it.

HILDA.

[_Offended, pouts._] But really, I think I am quite fit to be seen in the streets—now that I’ve put my dress to rights. Or do you think I am not?

MRS. SOLNESS.

To tell you the truth, I think people would stare at you a little.

HILDA.

[_Contemptuously._] Pooh! Is that all? That only amuses me.

SOLNESS.

[_With suppressed ill-humour._] Yes, but people might take it into their heads that _you_ were mad too, you see.

HILDA.

Mad? Are there so many mad people here in town, then?

SOLNESS.

[_Points to his own forehead._] Here you see _one_ at all events.

HILDA.

You—Mr. Solness!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh, don’t talk like that, my dear Halvard!

SOLNESS.

Have you not noticed _that_ yet?

HILDA.

No, I certainly have not. [_Reflects and laughs a little._] And yet—perhaps in one single thing.

SOLNESS.

Ah, do you hear _that_, Aline?

MRS. SOLNESS.

What is that one single thing, Miss Wangel?

HILDA.

No, I won’t say.

SOLNESS.

Oh yes, do!

HILDA.

No thank you—I am not so mad as that.

MRS. SOLNESS.

When you and Miss Wangel are alone, I daresay she will tell you, Halvard.

SOLNESS.

Ah—you think she will?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh yes, certainly. For you have known her so well in the past. Ever since she was a child—you tell me.

[_She goes out by the door on the left._

HILDA.

[_After a little while._] Does your wife dislike me very much?

SOLNESS.

Did you think you noticed anything of the kind?

HILDA.

Did you not notice it yourself?

SOLNESS.

[_Evasively._] Aline has become exceedingly shy with strangers of late years.

HILDA.

Has she really?

SOLNESS.

But if only you could get to know her thoroughly——! Ah, she is so good—so kind—so excellent a creature——

HILDA.

[_Impatiently._] But if she is all that—what made her say that about her duty?

SOLNESS.

Her duty?

HILDA.

She said that she would go out and buy something for me, because it was her _duty_. Oh I can’t bear that ugly, horrid word!

SOLNESS.

Why not?

HILDA.

It sounds so cold, and sharp, and stinging. Duty—duty—duty. Don’t _you_ think so, too? Doesn’t it seem to sting you?

SOLNESS.

H’m—haven’t thought much about it.

HILDA.

Yes, it does. And if she is so good—as you say she is—why should she talk in that way?

SOLNESS.

But, good Lord, what would you have had her say, then?

HILDA.

She might have said she would do it because she had taken a tremendous fancy to me. She might have said something like that—something really warm and cordial, you understand.

SOLNESS.

[_Looks at her._] Is that how you would like to have it?

HILDA.

Yes, precisely. [_She wanders about the room, stops at the bookcase and looks at the books._] What a lot of books you have.

SOLNESS.

Yes, I have got together a good many.

HILDA.

Do you read them all, too?

SOLNESS.

I used to try to. Do you read much?

HILDA.

No, never! I have given it up. For it all seems so irrelevant.

SOLNESS.

That is just my feeling.

[HILDA _wanders about a little, stops at the small table,
opens the portfolio and turns over the contents._

HILDA.

Are all these drawings yours?

SOLNESS.

No, they are drawn by a young man whom I employ to help me.

HILDA.

Some one you have taught?

SOLNESS.

Oh yes, no doubt he has learnt something from _me_, too.

HILDA.

[_Sits down._] Then I suppose he is very clever. [_Looks at a drawing._] Isn’t he?

SOLNESS.

Oh, he might be worse. For _my_ purpose——

HILDA.

Oh yes—I’m sure he is frightfully clever.

SOLNESS.

Do you think you can see that in the drawings?

HILDA.

Pooh—these scrawlings! But if he has been learning from _you_——

SOLNESS.

Oh, so far as that goes——there are plenty of people here that have learnt from _me_, and have come to little enough for all that.

HILDA.

[_Looks at him and shakes her head._] No, I can’t for the life of me understand how you can be so stupid.

SOLNESS.

Stupid? Do you think I am so very stupid?

HILDA.

Yes, I do indeed. If you are content to go about here teaching all these people——

SOLNESS.

[_With a slight start._] Well, and why not?

HILDA.

[_Rises, half serious, half laughing._] No indeed, Mr. Solness! What can be the good of that? No one but _you_ should be allowed to build. You should stand quite alone—do it all yourself. Now you know it.

SOLNESS.

[_Involuntarily._] Hilda——!

HILDA.

Well!

SOLNESS.

How in the world did _that_ come into your head?

HILDA.

Do you think I am so very far wrong then?

SOLNESS.

No, that’s not what I mean. But now I’ll tell you something.

HILDA.

Well?

SOLNESS.

I keep on—incessantly—in silence and alone—brooding on that very thought.

HILDA.

Yes, that seems to me perfectly natural.

SOLNESS.

[_Looks somewhat searchingly at her._] Perhaps you have noticed it already?

HILDA.

No, indeed I haven’t.

SOLNESS.

But just now—when you said you thought I was—off my balance? In one thing, you said——

HILDA.

Oh, I was thinking of something quite different.

SOLNESS.

What was it?

HILDA.

I am not going to tell you.

SOLNESS.

[_Crosses the room._] Well, well—as you please. [_Stops at the bow-window._] Come here, and I will show you something.

HILDA.

[_Approaching._] What is it?

SOLNESS.

Do you see—over there in the garden——?

HILDA.

Yes?

SOLNESS.

[_Points._] Right above the great quarry——?

HILDA.

That new house, you mean?

SOLNESS.

The one that is being built, yes. Almost finished.

HILDA.

It seems to have a very high tower.

SOLNESS.

The scaffolding is still up.

HILDA.

Is that your new house?

SOLNESS.

Yes.

HILDA.

The house you are soon going to move into?

SOLNESS.

Yes.

HILDA.

[_Looks at him._] Are there nurseries in _that_ house, too?

SOLNESS.

Three, as there are here.

HILDA.

And no child.

SOLNESS.

And there never will be one.

HILDA.

[_With a half-smile._] Well, isn’t it just as I said——?

SOLNESS.

That——?

HILDA.

That you _are_ a little—a little mad after all.

SOLNESS.

Was that what you were thinking of?

HILDA.

Yes, of all the empty nurseries I slept in.

SOLNESS.

[_Lowers his voice._] We _have_ had children—Aline and I.

HILDA.

[_Looks eagerly at him._] Have you——?

SOLNESS.

Two little boys. They were of the same age.

HILDA.

Twins, then.

SOLNESS.

Yes, twins. It’s eleven or twelve years ago now.

HILDA.

[_Cautiously._] And so both of them——? You have lost both the twins, then?

SOLNESS.

[_With quiet emotion._] We kept them only about three weeks. Or scarcely so much. [_Bursts forth._] Oh, Hilda, I can’t tell you what a good thing it is for me that you have come! For now at last I have some one I can talk to!

HILDA.

Can you not talk to—_her_, too?

SOLNESS.

Not about this. Not as I want to talk and must talk. [_Gloomily._] And not about so many other things, either.

HILDA.

[_In a subdued voice._] Was that all you meant when you said you needed me?

SOLNESS.

That was mainly what I meant—at all events, yesterday. For to-day I am not so sure—[_Breaking off._] Come here and let us sit down, Hilda. Sit there on the sofa—so that you can look into the garden. [_HILDA seats herself in the corner of the sofa. SOLNESS brings a chair closer._] Should you like to hear about it?

HILDA.

Yes, I shall love to sit and listen to you.

SOLNESS.

[_Sits down._] Then I will tell you all about it.

HILDA.

Now I can see both the garden and you, Mr. Solness. So now, tell away! Begin!

SOLNESS.

[_Points towards the bow-window._] Out there on the rising ground—where you see the new house——

HILDA.

Yes?

SOLNESS.

Aline and I lived there in the first years of our married life. There was an old house up there that had belonged to her mother; and we inherited it, and the whole of the great garden with it.

HILDA.

Was there a tower on _that_ house, too?

SOLNESS.

No, nothing of the kind. From the outside it looked like a great, dark, ugly wooden box; but all the same, it was snug and comfortable enough inside.

HILDA.

Then did you pull down the ramshackle old place?

SOLNESS.

No, it was burnt down.

HILDA.

The whole of it?

SOLNESS.

Yes.

HILDA.

Was that a great misfortune for you?

SOLNESS.

That depends on how you look at it. As a builder, the fire was the making of me——

HILDA.

Well, but——?

SOLNESS.

It was just after the birth of the two little boys——

HILDA.

The poor little twins, yes.

SOLNESS.

They came healthy and bonny into the world. And they were growing too—you could see the difference from day to day.

HILDA.

Little children do grow quickly at first.

SOLNESS.

It was the prettiest sight in the world to see Aline lying with the two of them in her arms.—But then came the night of the fire——

HILDA.

[_Excitedly._] What happened? Do tell me! Was any one burnt?

SOLNESS.

No, not that. Every one got safe and sound out of the house——

HILDA.

Well, and what then——?

SOLNESS.

The fright had shaken Aline terribly. The alarm—the escape—the break-neck hurry—and then the ice-cold night air—for they had to be carried out just as they lay—both she and the little ones.

HILDA.

Was it too much for them?

SOLNESS.

Oh no, _they_ stood it well enough. But Aline fell into a fever, and it affected her milk. She would insist on nursing them herself; because it was her duty, she said. And both our little boys, they—[_Clenching his hands._]—they—oh!

HILDA.

They did not get over _that_?

SOLNESS.

No, _that_ they did not get over. _That_ was how we lost them.

HILDA.

It must have been terribly hard for you.

SOLNESS.

Hard enough for me; but ten times harder for Aline. [_Clenching his hands in suppressed fury._] Oh, that such things should be allowed to happen here in the world! [_Shortly and firmly._] From the day I lost them, I had no heart for building churches.

HILDA.

Did you not like building the church-tower in our town?

SOLNESS.

I didn’t like it. I know how free and happy I felt when that tower was finished.

HILDA.

_I_ know that, too.

SOLNESS.

And now I shall never—never build anything of that sort again! Neither churches nor church-towers.

HILDA.

[_Nods slowly._] Nothing but houses for people to live in.

SOLNESS.

Homes for human beings, Hilda.

HILDA.

But homes with high towers and pinnacles upon them.

SOLNESS.

If possible. [_Adopts a lighter tone._] But, as I said before, that fire was the making of me—as a builder, I mean.

HILDA.

Why don’t you call yourself an architect, like the others?

SOLNESS.

I have not been systematically enough taught for that. Most of what I know I have found out for myself.

HILDA.

But you succeeded all the same.

SOLNESS.

Yes, thanks to the fire. I laid out almost the whole of the garden in villa lots; and _there_ I was able to build after my own heart. So I came to the front with a rush.

HILDA.

[_Looks keenly at him._] You must surely be a very happy man, as matters stand with you.

SOLNESS.

[_Gloomily._] Happy? Do _you_ say that, too—like all the rest of them?

HILDA.

Yes, I should say you must be. If you could only cease thinking about the two little children——

SOLNESS.

[_Slowly._] The two little children—they are not so easy to forget, Hilda.

HILDA.

[_Somewhat uncertainly._] Do you still feel their loss so much—after all these years?

SOLNESS.

[_Looks fixedly at her, without replying._] A happy man you said——

HILDA.

Well, now, _are_ you not happy—in other respects?

SOLNESS.

[_Continues to look at her._] When I told you all this about the fire—h’m——

HILDA.

Well?

SOLNESS.

Was there not one special thought that you—that you seized upon?

HILDA.

[Reflects in vain.] No. What thought should _that_ be?

SOLNESS.

[_With subdued emphasis._] It was simply and solely by that fire that I was enabled to build homes for human beings. Cosy, comfortable, bright homes, where father and mother and the whole troop of children can live in safety and gladness, feeling what a happy thing it is to be alive in the world—and most of all to belong to each other—in great things and in small.

HILDA.

[_Ardently._] Well, and is it not a great happiness for you to be able to build such beautiful homes?

SOLNESS.

The price, Hilda! The terrible price I had to pay for the opportunity!

HILDA.

But can you _never_ get over that?

SOLNESS.

No. That I might build homes for others, I had to forego—to forego for all time—the home that might have been my own. I mean a home for a troop of children—and for father and mother, too.

HILDA.

[_Cautiously._] But _need_ you have done that? For all time, you say?

SOLNESS.

[_Nods slowly._] _That_ was the price of this happiness that people talk about. [_Breathes heavily._] This happiness—h’m—this happiness was not to be bought any cheaper, Hilda.

HILDA.

[_As before._] But may it not come right even yet?

SOLNESS.

Never in this world—never. That is another consequence of the fire—and of Aline’s illness afterwards.

HILDA.

[_Looks at him with an indefinable expression._] And yet you build all these nurseries?

SOLNESS.

[_Seriously._] Have you never noticed, Hilda, how the impossible—how it seems to beckon and cry aloud to one?

HILDA.

[_Reflecting._] The impossible? [_With animation._] Yes, indeed! Is that how _you_ feel too?

SOLNESS.

Yes, I do.

HILDA.

Then there must be—a little of the troll in you too.

SOLNESS.

Why of the troll?

HILDA.

What would you call it, then?

SOLNESS.

[_Rises._] Well, well, perhaps you are right. [_Vehemently._] But how can I help turning into a troll, when this is how it always goes with me in everything—in everything!

HILDA.

How do you mean?

SOLNESS.

[_Speaking low, with inward emotion._] Mark what I say to you, Hilda. All that I have succeeded in doing, building, creating—all the beauty, security, cheerful comfort—ay, and magnificence too—[_Clenches his hands._] Oh, is it not terrible even to think of——!

HILDA.

_What_ is so terrible?

SOLNESS.

That all this I have to make up for, to pay for—not in money, but in human happiness. And not with my own happiness only, but with other people’s too. Yes, yes, do you see _that_, Hilda? That is the price which my position as an artist has cost me—and others. And every single day I have to look on while the price is paid for me anew. Over again, and over again—and over again for ever!

HILDA.

[_Rises and looks steadily at him._] Now I can see that you are thinking of—of _her_.

SOLNESS.

Yes, mainly of Aline. For Aline—_she_, too, had her vocation in life, just as much as I had mine. [_His voice quivers._] But her vocation has had to be stunted, and crushed, and shattered—in order that mine might force its way to—to a sort of great victory. For you must know that Aline—she, too, had a talent for building.

HILDA.

She! For building?

SOLNESS.

[_Shakes his head._] Not houses and towers, and spires—not such things as I work away at——

HILDA.

Well, but _what_ then?

SOLNESS.

[_Softly, with emotion._] For building up the souls of little children, Hilda. For building up children’s souls in perfect balance, and in noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect and full-grown human souls. _That_ was Aline’s talent. And there it all lies now—unused and unusable for ever—of no earthly service to any one—just like the ruins left by a fire.

HILDA.

Yes, but even if this were so——?

SOLNESS.

It is so! It is so! I know it!

HILDA.

Well, but in any case it is not _your_ fault.

SOLNESS.

[_Fixes his eyes on her, and nods slowly._] Ah, _that_ is the great, the terrible question. _That_ is the doubt that is gnawing me—night and day.

HILDA.

That?

SOLNESS.

Yes. Suppose the fault _was_ mine—in a certain sense.

HILDA.

Your fault! The fire!

SOLNESS.

All of it; the whole thing. And yet, perhaps—I may not have had anything to do with it.

HILDA.

[_Looks at him with a troubled expression._] Oh, Mr. Solness—if you can talk like that, I am afraid you must be—ill, after all.

SOLNESS.

H’m—I don’t think I shall ever be of quite sound mind on that point.

RAGNAR BROVIK _cautiously opens the little door in the left-hand
corner._ HILDA _comes forward._

RAGNAR.

[_When he sees HILDA._] Oh. I beg pardon, Mr. Solness——

[_He makes a movement to withdraw._

SOLNESS.

No, no, don’t go. Let us get it over.

RAGNAR.

Oh, yes—if only we could.

SOLNESS.

I hear your father is no better?

RAGNAR.

Father is fast growing weaker—and therefore I beg and implore you to write a few kind words for me on one of the plans! Something for father to read before he——

SOLNESS.

[_Vehemently._] I won’t hear anything more about those drawings of yours!

RAGNAR.

Have you looked at them?

SOLNESS.

Yes—I have.

RAGNAR.

And they are good for nothing? And _I_ am good for nothing, too?

SOLNESS.

[_Evasively._] Stay here with me, Ragnar. You shall have everything your own way. And then you can marry Kaia, and live at your ease—and happily too, who knows? Only don’t think of building on your own account.

RAGNAR.

Well, well, then I must go home and tell father what you say—I promised I would.—Is this what I am to tell father—before he dies?

SOLNESS.

[_With a groan._] Oh tell him—tell him what you will, for me. Best to say nothing at all to him! [_With a sudden outburst._] I _cannot_ do anything else, Ragnar!

RAGNAR.

May I have the drawings to take with me?

SOLNESS.

Yes, take them—take them by all means! They are lying there on the table.

RAGNAR.

[_Goes to the table._] Thanks.

HILDA.

[_Puts her hand on the portfolio._] No, no; leave them here.

SOLNESS.

Why?

HILDA.

Because I want to look at them, too.

SOLNESS.

But you _have_ been——[_To RAGNAR._] Well, leave them here, then.

RAGNAR.

Very well.

SOLNESS.

And go home at once to your father.

RAGNAR.

Yes, I suppose I must.

SOLNESS.

[_As if in desperation._] Ragnar—you _must_ not ask me to do what is beyond my power! Do you hear, Ragnar? You _must_ not!

RAGNAR.

No, no. I beg your pardon——

[_He bows, and goes out by the corner door._ HILDA _goes over
and sits down on a chair near the mirror._

HILDA.

[_Looks angrily at SOLNESS._] That was a very ugly thing to do.

SOLNESS.

Do _you_ think so, too?

HILDA.

Yes, it was horribly ugly—and hard and bad and cruel as well.

SOLNESS.

Oh, you don’t understand my position.

HILDA.

No matter——. I say you ought not to be like that.

SOLNESS.

You said yourself, only just now, that no one but _I_ ought to be allowed to build.

HILDA.

_I_ may say such things—but _you_ must not.

SOLNESS.

I most of all, surely, who have paid so dear for my position.

HILDA.

Oh yes—with what you call domestic comfort—and that sort of thing.

SOLNESS.

And with my peace of soul into the bargain.

HILDA.

[_Rising._] Peace of soul! [_With feeling._] Yes, yes, you are right in that! Poor Mr. Solness—you fancy that——

SOLNESS.

[_With a quiet, chuckling laugh._] Just sit down again, Hilda, and I’ll tell you something funny.

HILDA.

[_Sits down; with intent interest._] Well?

SOLNESS.

It sounds such a ludicrous little thing; for, you see, the whole story turns upon nothing but a crack in a chimney.

HILDA.

No more than that?

SOLNESS.

No, not to begin with.

[_He moves a chair nearer to_ HILDA _and sits down._

HILDA.

[_Impatiently, taps on her knee._] Well, now for the crack in the chimney!

SOLNESS.

I had noticed the split in the flue long, long before the fire. Every time I went up into the attic, I looked to see if it was still there.

HILDA.

And it _was_?

SOLNESS.

Yes; for no one else knew about it.

HILDA.

And you said nothing?

SOLNESS.

Nothing.

HILDA.

And did not think of repairing the flue either?

SOLNESS.

Oh yes, I thought about it—but never got any further. Every time I intended to set to work, it seemed just as if a hand held me back. Not to-day, I thought—to-morrow; and nothing ever came of it.

HILDA.

But why did you keep putting it off like that?

SOLNESS.

Because I was revolving something in my mind. [_Slowly, and in a low voice._] Through that little black crack in the chimney, I might, perhaps, force my way upwards—as a builder.

HILDA.

[_Looking straight in front of her._] That must have been thrilling.

SOLNESS.

Almost irresistible—quite irresistible. For at that time it appeared to me a perfectly simple and straightforward matter. I would have had it happen in the winter-time—a little before midday. I was to be out driving Aline in the sleigh. The servants at home would have made huge fires in the stoves.

HILDA.

For, of course, it was to be bitterly cold that day?

SOLNESS.

Rather biting, yes—and they would want Aline to find it thoroughly snug and warm when she came home.

HILDA.

I suppose she is very chilly by nature?

SOLNESS.

She _is_. And as we drove home, we were to see the smoke.

HILDA.

Only the smoke?

SOLNESS.

The smoke first. But when we came up to the garden gate, the whole of the old timber-box was to be a rolling mass of flames.—That is how I wanted it to be, you see.

HILDA.

Oh why, _why_ could it not have happened so!

SOLNESS.

You may well say that, Hilda.

HILDA.

Well, but now listen, Mr. Solness. Are you perfectly certain that the fire was caused by that little crack in the chimney!

SOLNESS.

No, on the contrary—I am perfectly certain that the crack in the chimney had nothing whatever to do with the fire.

HILDA.

What!

SOLNESS.

It has been clearly ascertained that the fire broke out in a clothes-cupboard—in a totally different part of the house.

HILDA.

Then what is all this nonsense you are talking about the crack in the chimney!

SOLNESS.

May I go on talking to you a little, Hilda?

HILDA.

Yes, if you’ll only talk sensibly——

SOLNESS.

I will try to. [_He moves his chair nearer._

HILDA.

Out with it, then, Mr. Solness.

SOLNESS.

[_Confidentially._] Don’t you agree with me, Hilda, that there exist special, chosen people who have been endowed with the power and faculty of _desiring_ a thing, _craving_ for a thing, _willing_ a thing—so persistently and so—so inexorably— that at last it has to _happen_? Don’t you believe that?

HILDA.

[_With an indefinable expression in her eyes._] If that is so, we shall see, one of these days, whether _I_ am one of the chosen.

SOLNESS.

It is not one’s self _alone_ that can do such great things. Oh, no—the helpers and the servers—they must do their part too, if it is to be of any good. But they never come of themselves. One has to call upon them very persistently—inwardly, you understand.

HILDA.

What are these helpers and servers?

SOLNESS.

Oh, we can talk about that some other time. For the present, let us keep to this business of the fire.

HILDA.

Don’t you think that fire would have happened all the same—even without your wishing for it?

SOLNESS.

If the house had been old Knut Brovik’s, it would never have burnt down so conveniently for him. I am sure of that; for he does not know how to call for the helpers—no, nor for the servers, either. [_Rises in unrest._] So you see, Hilda—it is my fault, after all, that the lives of the two little boys had to be sacrificed. And do you think it is not my fault, too, that Aline has never been the woman she should and might have been—and that she most longed to be?

HILDA.

Yes, but if it is all the work of those helpers and servers——?

SOLNESS.

Who called for the helpers and servers? It was I! And they came and obeyed my will. [_In increasing excitement._] _That_ is what people call having the luck on your side; but I must tell you what this sort of luck feels like! It feels like a great raw place here on my breast. And the helpers and servers keep on flaying pieces of skin off other people in order to close my sore!—But still the sore is not healed—never, never! Oh, if you knew how it can sometimes gnaw and burn.

HILDA.

[_Looks attentively at him._] You are ill, Mr. Solness. Very ill, I almost think.

SOLNESS.

Say _mad_; for that is what you mean.

HILDA.

No, I don’t think there is much amiss with your intellect.

SOLNESS.

With _what_ then? Out with it!

HILDA.

I wonder whether you were not sent into the world with a sickly conscience.

SOLNESS.

A sickly conscience? What devilry is that?

HILDA.

I mean that your conscience is feeble—too delicately built, as it were—hasn’t strength to take a grip of things—to lift and bear what is heavy.

SOLNESS.

[_Growls._] H’m! May I ask, then, what sort of a conscience one ought to have?

HILDA.

I should like _your_ conscience to be—to be thoroughly robust.

SOLNESS.

Indeed? Robust, eh? Is your own conscience robust, may I ask?

HILDA.

Yes, I think it is. I have never noticed that it wasn’t.

SOLNESS.

It has not been put very severely to the test, I should think.

HILDA.

[_With a quivering of the lips._] Oh, it was no such simple matter to leave father—I am so awfully fond of him.

SOLNESS.

Dear me! for a month or two——

HILDA.

I think I shall never go home again.

SOLNESS.

Never? Then why did you leave him?

HILDA.

[_Half-seriously, half-banteringly._] Have you forgotten again that the ten years are up?

SOLNESS.

Oh nonsense. Was anything wrong at home? Eh?

HILDA.

[_Quite seriously._] It was this impulse within me that urged and goaded me to come—and lured and drew me on, as well.

SOLNESS.

[_Eagerly._] There, we have it! There we have it, Hilda! There is a troll in you too, as in me. For it’s the troll in one, you see—it is _that_ that calls to the powers outside us. And then you _must_ give in—whether you will or no.

HILDA.

I almost think you are right, Mr. Solness.

SOLNESS.

[_Walks about the room._] Oh, there are devils innumerable abroad in the world, Hilda, that one never _sees_!

HILDA.

Devils, too?

SOLNESS.

[_Stops._] Good devils and bad devils; light-haired devils and black-haired devils. If only you could always tell whether it is the light or dark ones that have got hold of you! [_Paces about._] Ho-ho! Then it would be simple enough!

HILDA.

[_Follows him with her eyes._] Or if one had a really vigorous, radiantly healthy conscience—so that one _dared_ to do what one _would_.

SOLNESS.

[_Stops beside the console table._] I believe, now, that most people are just as puny creatures as I am in that respect.

HILDA.

I shouldn’t wonder.

SOLNESS.

[_Leaning against the table._] In the sagas——. Have you read any of the old sagas?

HILDA.

Oh yes! When I used to read books, I——

SOLNESS.

In the sagas you read about vikings, who sailed to foreign lands, and plundered and burned and killed men——

HILDA.

And carried off women——

SOLNESS.

——and kept them in captivity——

HILDA.

——took them home in their ships——

SOLNESS.

——and behaved to them like—like the very worst of trolls.

HILDA.

[_Looks straight before her, with a half-veiled look._] I think _that_ must have been thrilling.

SOLNESS.

[_With a short, deep laugh._] To carry off women eh?

HILDA.

To be carried off.

SOLNESS.

[_Looks at her a moment._] Oh, indeed.

HILDA.

[_As if breaking the thread of the conversation._] But what made you speak of these vikings, Mr. Solness?

SOLNESS.

Why, _those_ fellows must have had robust consciences, if you like! When they got home again, they could eat and drink, and be as happy as children. And the women, too! They often would not leave them on any account. Can you understand that, Hilda?

HILDA.

Those women I can understand exceedingly well.

SOLNESS.

Oho! Perhaps you could do the same yourself?

HILDA.

Why not?

SOLNESS.

Live—of your own free will—with a ruffian like that?

HILDA.

If it was a ruffian I had come to love——

SOLNESS.

_Could_ you come to love a man like that?

HILDA.

Good heavens, you know very well one can’t choose whom one is going to love.

SOLNESS.

[_Looks meditatively at her._] Oh no, I suppose it is the troll within one that’s responsible for that.

HILDA.

[_Half-laughing._] And all those blessëd devils, that _you_ know so well—both the light-haired and the dark-haired ones.

SOLNESS.

[_Quietly and warmly._] Then I hope with all my heart that the devils will choose carefully for you, Hilda.

HILDA.

For me they _have_ chosen already—once and for all.

SOLNESS.

[_Looks earnestly at her._] Hilda—you are like a wild bird of the woods.

HILDA.

Far from it. I don’t hide myself away under the bushes.

SOLNESS.

No, no. There is rather something of the bird of prey in you.

HILDA.

That is nearer it—perhaps. [_Very vehemently._] And why not a bird of prey? Why should not _I_ go a-hunting—I, as well as the rest? Carry off the prey I want—if only I can get my claws into it, and do with it as I will.

SOLNESS.

Hilda—do you know what you are?

HILDA.

Yes, I suppose I am a strange sort of bird.

SOLNESS.

No. You are like a dawning day. When I look at you—I seem to be looking towards the sunrise.

HILDA.

Tell me, Mr. Solness—are you certain that you have never called me to you? Inwardly, you know?

SOLNESS.

[_Softly and slowly._] I almost think I must have.

HILDA.

What did you want with me?

SOLNESS.

You are the younger generation, Hilda.

HILDA.

[_Smiles._] That younger generation that you are so afraid of?

SOLNESS.

[_Nods slowly._] And which, in my heart, I yearn towards so deeply.

[HILDA _rises, goes to the little table, and fetches_ RAGNAK
BROVIK’S _portfolio._

HILDA.

[_Holds out the portfolio to him._] We were talking of these drawings——

SOLNESS.

[_Shortly, waving them away._] Put those things away! I have seen enough of them.

HILDA.

Yes, but you have to write your approval on them.

SOLNESS.

Write my approval on them? Never!

HILDA.

But the poor old man is lying at death’s door! Can’t you give him and his son this pleasure before they are parted? And perhaps he might get the commission to carry them out, too.

SOLNESS.

Yes, that is just what he would get. He has made sure of that—has my fine gentleman!

HILDA.

Then, good heavens—if that is so—can’t you tell the least little bit of a lie for once in a way?

SOLNESS.

A lie? [_Raging._] Hilda—take those devil’s drawings out of my sight!

HILDA.

[_Draws the portfolio a little nearer to herself._] Well well, well—don’t bite me.—You talk of trolls—but I think you go on like a troll yourself. [_Looks round._] Where do you keep your pen and ink?

SOLNESS.

There is nothing of the sort in here.

HILDA.

[_Goes towards the door._] But in the office where that young lady is——

SOLNESS.

Stay where you are, Hilda!—I ought to tell a lie, you say. Oh yes, for the sake of his old father I might well do that—for in my time I have crushed him, trodden him under foot——

HILDA.

Him, too?

SOLNESS.

I needed room for myself. But this Ragnar—he must on no account be allowed to come to the front.

HILDA.

Poor fellow, there is surely no fear of that. If he has nothing in him——

SOLNESS.

[_Comes closer, looks at her, and whispers._] If Ragnar Brovik gets his chance, he will strike _me_ to the earth. Crush me—as I crushed his father.

HILDA.

Crush you? Has he the ability for that?

SOLNESS.

Yes, you may depend upon it he has the ability! He is the younger generation that stands ready to knock at my door—to make an end of Halvard Solness.

HILDA.

[_Looks at him with quiet reproach._] And yet you would bar him out. Fie, Mr. Solness!

SOLNESS.

The fight I have been fighting has cost heart’s blood enough.—And I am afraid, too, that the helpers and servers will not obey me any longer.

HILDA.

Then you must go ahead without them. There is nothing else for it.

SOLNESS.

It is hopeless, Hilda. The luck is bound to turn. A little sooner or a little later. Retribution is inexorable.

HILDA.

[_In distress, putting her hands over her ears._] Don’t talk like that! Do you want to kill me? To take from me what is more than my life?

SOLNESS.

And what is that?

HILDA.

The longing to see you great. To see you, with a wreath in your hand, high, high up upon a church-tower. [_Calm again._] Come, out with your pencil now. You must have a pencil about you?

SOLNESS.

[_Takes out his pocket-book._] I have one here.

HILDA.

[_Lays the portfolio on the sofa-table._] Very well. Now let us two sit down here, Mr. Solness. [_SOLNESS seats himself at the table. HILDA stands behind him, leaning over the back of the chair._] And now we will write on the drawings. We must write very, very nicely and cordially—for this horrid Ruar—or whatever his name is.

SOLNESS.

[_Writes a few words, turns his head and looks at her._] Tell me one thing, Hilda.

HILDA.

Yes!

SOLNESS.

If you have been waiting for me all these ten years——

HILDA.

What then?

SOLNESS.

Why have you never written to me? Then I could have answered you.

HILDA.

[_Hastily._] No, no, no! That was just what I did not want.

SOLNESS.

Why not?

HILDA.

I was afraid the whole thing might fall to pieces.—But we were going to write on the drawings, Mr. Solness.

SOLNESS.

So we were.

HILDA.

[_Bends forward and looks over his shoulder while he writes._] Mind now, kindly and cordially! Oh how I hate—how I hate this Ruald——

SOLNESS.

[_Writing._] Have you never really cared for any one, Hilda?

HILDA.

[_Harshly._] What do you say?

SOLNESS.

Have you never cared for any one?

HILDA.

For any one else, I suppose you mean?

SOLNESS.

[_Looks up at her._] For any one else, yes. Have you never? In all these ten years? Never?

HILDA.

Oh yes, now and then. When I was perfectly furious with you for not coming.

SOLNESS.

Then you did take an interest in other people, too?

HILDA.

A little bit—for a week or so. Good heavens, Mr. Solness, you surely know how such things come about.

SOLNESS.

Hilda—what is it you have come for?

HILDA.

Don’t waste time talking. The poor old man might go and die in the meantime.

SOLNESS.

Answer me Hilda. What do you want of me?

HILDA.

I want my kingdom.

SOLNESS.

H’m——

_He gives a rapid glance towards the door on the left, and then goes on
writing on the drawings. At the same moment_ MRS. SOLNESS _enters;
she has some packages in her hand._

MRS. SOLNESS.

Here are a few things I have got for you, Miss Wangel. The large parcels will be sent later on.

HILDA.

Oh, how very, very kind of you!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Only my simple duty. Nothing more than that.

SOLNESS.

[_Reading over what he has written._] Aline!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes?

SOLNESS.

Did you notice whether the—the book-keeper was out there?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, of course, she was there.

SOLNESS.

[_Puts the drawings in the portfolio._] H’m——

MRS. SOLNESS.

She was standing at the desk, as she always is—when _I_ go through the room.

SOLNESS.

[_Rises._] Then I’ll give this to her, and tell her that——

HILDA.

[_Takes the portfolio from him._] Oh, no, let me have the pleasure of doing that! [_Goes to the door, but turns._] What is her name?

SOLNESS.

Her name is Miss Fosli.

HILDA.

Pooh, that sounds so cold! Her Christian name, I mean?

SOLNESS.

Kaia—I believe.

HILDA.

[_Opens the door and calls out._] Kaia, come in here! Make haste! Mr. Solness wants to speak to you.

_KAIA FOSLID appears at the door._

KAIA.

[_Looking at him in alarm._] Here I am——?

HILDA.

[_Handing her the portfolio._] See here, Kaia! You can take this home; Mr. Solness has written on them now.

KAIA.

Oh, at last!

SOLNESS.

Give them to the old man as soon as you can.

KAIA.

I will go straight home with them.

SOLNESS.

Yes, do. Now Ragnar will have a chance of building for himself.

KAIA.

Oh, may he come and thank you for all——?

SOLNESS.

[_Harshly._] I won’t have any thanks! Tell him _that_ from me.

KAIA.

Yes, I will——

SOLNESS.

And tell him at the same time that henceforward I do not require his services—nor yours either.

KAIA.

[_Softly and quiveringly._] Not mine either?

SOLNESS.

You will have other things to think of now, and to attend to; and that is a very good thing for you. Well, go home with the drawings now, Miss Fosli. At once! Do you hear?

KAIA.

[_As before._] Yes, Mr. Solness. [_She goes out._

MRS. SOLNESS.

Heavens! what deceitful eyes she has.

SOLNESS.

She? That poor little creature?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh—I can see what I can see, Halvard.——Are you really dismissing them?

SOLNESS.

Yes.

MRS. SOLNESS.

Her as well?

SOLNESS.

Was not that what you wished?

MRS. SOLNESS.

But how can you get on without _her_——? Oh well, no doubt you have some one else in reserve, Halvard.

HILDA.

[_Playfully._] Well, _I_ for one am not the person to stand at that desk.

SOLNESS.

Never mind, never mind—it will be all right. Aline. Now all you have to do is to think about moving into our new home—as quickly as you can. This evening we will hang up the wreath—[_Turns to HILDA._]—right on the very pinnacle of the tower. What do you say to that, Miss Hilda?

HILDA.

[_Looks at him with sparkling eyes._] It will be splendid to see you so high up once more.

SOLNESS.

Me!

MRS. SOLNESS.

For Heaven’s sake, Miss Wangel, don’t imagine such a thing! My husband!—when he always gets so dizzy!

HILDA.

_He_ get dizzy! No, I know quite well he does not!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh yes, indeed he does.

HILDA.

But I have seen him with my own eyes right up at the top of a high church-tower!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, I hear people talk of that; but it is utterly impossible——

SOLNESS.

[_Vehemently._] Impossible—impossible, yes! But there I stood all the same!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh, how can you say so, Halvard? Why, you can’t even bear to go out on the second-storey balcony here. You have always been like that.

SOLNESS.

You may perhaps see something different this evening.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_In alarm._] No, no, no! Please God I shall never see that. I will write at once to the doctor—and I am sure he won’t let you do it.

SOLNESS.

Why, Aline——!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh, you know you’re ill, Halvard. This _proves_ it! Oh God—Oh God!

[_She goes hastily out to the right._

HILDA.

[_Looks intently at him._] Is it so, or is it not?

SOLNESS.

That I turn dizzy?

HILDA.

That my master builder _dares_ not—_cannot_—climb as high as he builds?

SOLNESS.

Is that the way you look at it?

HILDA.

Yes.

SOLNESS.

I believe there is scarcely a corner in me that is safe from you.

HILDA.

[_Looks towards the bow-window._] Up there, then. Right up there——

SOLNESS.

[_Approaches her._] You might have the topmost room in the tower, Hilda—there you might live like a princess.

HILDA.

[_Indefinably, between earnest and jest._] Yes, that is what you promised me.

SOLNESS.

_Did_ I really?

HILDA.

Fie, Mr. Solness! You said I should be a princess, and that you would give me a kingdom. And then you went and——Well!

SOLNESS.

[_Cautiously._] Are you quite certain that this is not a dream—a fancy, that has fixed itself in your mind?

HILDA.

[_Sharply._] Do you mean that you did not do it?

SOLNESS.

I scarcely know myself. [_More softly._] But now I know so _much_ for certain, that I——-

HILDA.

That you——? Say it at once!

SOLNESS.

——that I _ought_ to have done it.

HILDA.

[_Exclaims with animation._] Don’t tell me _you_ can ever be dizzy!

SOLNESS.

This evening, then, we will hang up the wreath—Princess Hilda.

HILDA.

[_With a bitter curve of the lips._] Over your new home, yes.

SOLNESS.

Over the new house, which will never be a _home_ for me.

[_He goes out through the garden door._

HILDA.

[_Looks straight in front of her with a far-away expression, and whispers to herself. The only words audible are_]——frightfully thrilling——

ACT THIRD.

_The large, broad verandah of_ SOLNESS’S _dwelling-house. Part of the
house, with outer door leading to the verandah, is seen to the
left. A railing along the verandah to the right. At the back, from
the end of the verandah, a flight of steps leads down to the
garden below. Tall old trees in the garden spread their branches
over the verandah and towards the house. Far to the right, in
among the trees, a glimpse is caught of the lower part of the new
villa, with scaffolding round so much as is seen of the tower. In
the background the garden is bounded by an old wooden fence.
Outside the fence, a street with low, tumble-down cottages._

_Evening sky with sun-lit clouds._

_On the verandah, a garden bench stands along the wall of the house, and
in front of the bench a long table. On the other side of the
table, an arm-chair and some stools. All the furniture is of
wicker-work._

MRS. SOLNESS, _wrapped in a large white crape shawl, sits resting in the
arm-chair and gazes over to the right. Shortly after,_ HILDA
WANGEL _comes up the flight of steps from the garden. She is
dressed as in the last act, and wears her hat. She has in her
bodice a little nosegay of small common flowers._

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Turning her head a little._] Have you been round the garden, Miss Wangel?

HILDA.

Yes, I have been taking a look at it.

MRS. SOLNESS.

And found some flowers too, I see.

HILDA.

Yes, indeed! There are such heaps of them in among the bushes.

MRS. SOLNESS.

Are there really? Still? You see I scarcely ever go there.

HILDA.

[_Closer._] What! Don’t you take a run down into the garden every day, then?

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_With a faint smile._] I don’t “run” anywhere, nowadays.

HILDA.

Well, but do you not go down now and then to look at all the lovely things there?

MRS. SOLNESS.

It has all become so strange to me. I am almost afraid to see it again.

HILDA.

Your own garden!

MRS. SOLNESS.

I don’t feel that it is _mine_ any longer.

HILDA.

What do you mean——?

MRS. SOLNESS.

No, no, it is not—not as it was in my mother’s and father’s time. They have taken away so much—so much of the garden, Miss Wangel. Fancy—they have parcelled it out—and built houses for strangers—people that I don’t know. And _they_ can sit and look in upon me from their windows.

HILDA.

[_With a bright expression._] Mrs. Solness!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes!

HILDA.

May I stay here with you a little?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, by all means, if you care to.

[HILDA _moves a stool close to the arm-chair and sits down._

HILDA.

Ah—here one can sit and sun oneself like a cat.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Lays her hand softly on HILDA’S neck._] It is nice of you to be willing to sit with me. I thought you wanted to go in to my husband.

HILDA.

What should I want with him?

MRS. SOLNESS.

To help him, I thought.

HILDA.

No, thank you. And besides, he is not in. He is over there with his workmen. But he looked so fierce that I did not dare to talk to him.

MRS. SOLNESS.

He is so kind and gentle in reality.

HILDA.

_He!_

MRS. SOLNESS.

You do not really know him yet, Miss Wangel.

HILDA.

[_Looks affectionately at her._] Are you pleased at the thought of moving over to the new house?

MRS. SOLNESS.

I _ought_ to be pleased; for it is what Halvard wants——

HILDA.

Oh, not just on that account, surely.

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, yes, Miss Wangel; for it is only my duty to submit myself to him. But very often it is dreadfully difficult to force one’s mind to obedience.

HILDA.

Yes, that must be difficult indeed.

MRS. SOLNESS.

I can tell you it is—when one has so many faults as I have——

HILDA.

When one has gone through so much trouble as you have——

MRS. SOLNESS.

How do you know about that?

HILDA.

Your husband told me.

MRS. SOLNESS.

To me he very seldom mentions these things.—Yes, I can tell you I have gone through more than enough trouble in my life, Miss Wangel.

HILDA.

[_Looks sympathetically at her and nods slowly._] Poor Mrs. Solness. First of all there was the fire——

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_With a sigh._] Yes, everything that was _mine_ was burnt.

HILDA.

And then came what was worse.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Looking inquiringly at her._] Worse?

HILDA.

The worst of all.

MRS. SOLNESS.

What do you mean?

HILDA.

[_Softly._] You lost the two little boys.

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh yes, the boys. But, you see, _that_ was a thing apart. That was a dispensation of Providence; and in such things one can only bow in submission—yes, and be thankful, too.

HILDA.

Then you are so?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Not always, I am sorry to say. I know well enough that it is my duty—but all the same I _cannot_.

HILDA.

No, no, I think that is only natural.

MRS. SOLNESS.

And often and often I have to remind myself that it was a righteous punishment for me——

HILDA.

Why?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Because I had not fortitude enough in misfortune.

HILDA.

But I don’t see that——

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh, no, no, Miss Wangel—do not talk to me any more about the two little boys. We ought to feel nothing but joy in thinking of _them_; for they are so happy—so happy now. No, it is the _small_ losses in life that cut one to the heart—the loss of all that other people look upon as almost nothing.

HILDA.

[_Lays her arms on MRS. SOLNESS’S knees, and looks up at her affectionately._] Dear Mrs. Solness—tell me what things you mean!

MRS. SOLNESS.

As I say, only little things. All the old portraits were burnt on the walls. And all the old silk dresses were burnt, that had belonged to the family for generations and generations. And all mother’s and grandmother’s lace—that was burnt, too. And only think—the jewels, too! [_Sadly._] And then all the dolls.

HILDA.

The dolls?

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Choking with tears._] I had nine lovely dolls.

HILDA.

And _they_ were burnt too?

MRS. SOLNESS.

All of them. Oh, it was hard—so hard for me.

HILDA.

Had you put by all these dolls, then? Ever since you were little?

MRS. SOLNESS.

I had not put them by. The dolls and I had gone on living together.

HILDA.

After you were grown up?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, long after that.

HILDA.

After you were married, too?

MRS. SOLNESS.

Oh yes, indeed. So long as he did not see it——. But they were all burnt up, poor things. No one thought of saving _them_. Oh, it is so miserable to think of. You mustn’t laugh at me, Miss Wangel.

HILDA.

I am not laughing in the least.

MRS. SOLNESS.

For you see, in a certain sense, there was life in them, too. I carried them under my heart—like little unborn children.

DR. HERDAL, _with his hat in his hand, comes out through the door, and
observes_ MRS. SOLNESS _and HILDA._

DR. HERDAL.

Well, Mrs. Solness, so you are sitting out here catching cold?

MRS. SOLNESS.

I find it so pleasant and warm here to-day.

DR. HERDAL.

Yes, yes. But is there anything going on here? I got a note from you.

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Rises._] Yes, there is something I must talk to you about.

DR. HERDAL.

Very well; then perhaps we had better go in. [_To HILDA._] Still in your mountaineering dress, Miss Wangel?

HILDA.

[_Gaily, rising._] Yes—in full uniform! But to-day I am not going climbing and breaking my neck. We two will stop quietly below and look on, doctor.

DR. HERDAL.

What are we to look on at?

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Softly, in alarm, to HILDA._] Hush, hush—for God’s sake! He is coming! Try to get that idea out of his head. And let us be friends, Miss Wangel. Don’t you think we can?

HILDA.

[_Throws her arms impetuously round MRS. SOLNESS’S neck._] Oh, if we only could!

MRS. SOLNESS.

[_Gently disengages herself._] There, there, there! There he comes, doctor. Let me have a word with you.

DR. HERDAL.

Is it about _him_!

MRS. SOLNESS.

Yes, to be sure it’s about him. Do come in.

_She and the doctor enter the house. Next moment_ SOLNESS _comes up from
the garden by the flight of steps. A serious look comes over_
HILDA’S _face._

SOLNESS.

[_Glances at the house-door, which is closed cautiously from within._] Have you noticed, Hilda, that as soon as I come, she goes?

HILDA.