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Hedda Gabler

Henrik Ibsen

Rightly guessed again, Mrs. Tesman. MRS. ELVSTED. [With an effort at self-control.] When did it happen, Mr. Brack? BRACK. This afternoon--between three and four. TESMAN. But, good Lord, where did he do it? Eh? BRACK. [With some hesitation.] Where? Well--I suppose at his lodgings. MRS. ELVSTED. No, that cannot be; for I was there between six and seven. BRACK. Well then, somewhere else. I don't know exactly. I only know that he was found--. He had shot himself--in the breast. MRS. ELVSTED. Oh, how terrible! That he should die like that! HEDDA. [To BRACK.] Was it in the breast? BRACK. Yes--as I told you. HEDDA. Not in the temple? BRACK. In the breast, Mrs. Tesman. HEDDA. Well, well--the breast is a good place, too. BRACK. How do you mean, Mrs. Tesman? HEDDA. [Evasively.] Oh, nothing--nothing. TESMAN. And the wound is dangerous, you say--eh? BRACK. Absolutely mortal. The end has probably come by this time. MRS. ELVSTED. Yes, yes, I feel it. The end! The end! Oh, Hedda--! TESMAN. But tell me, how have you learnt all this? BRACK. [Curtly.] Through one of the police. A man I had some business with. HEDDA. [In a clear voice.] At last a deed worth doing! TESMAN. [Terrified.] Good heavens, Hedda! what are you saying? HEDDA. I say there is beauty in this. BRACK. H'm, Mrs. Tesman-- MRS. ELVSTED. Oh, Hedda, how can you talk of beauty in such an act! HEDDA. Eilert Lovborg has himself made up his account with life. He has had the courage to do--the one right thing. MRS. ELVSTED. No, you must never think that was how it happened! It must have been in delirium that he did it. TESMAN. In despair! HEDDA. That he did not. I am certain of that. MRS. ELVSTED. Yes, yes! In delirium! Just as when he tore up our manuscript. BRACK. [Starting.] The manuscript? Has he torn that up? MRS. ELVSTED. Yes, last night. TESMAN. [Whispers softly.] Oh, Hedda, we shall never get over this. BRACK. H'm, very extraordinary. TESMAN. [Moving about the room.] To think of Eilert going out of the world in this way! And not leaving behind him the book that would have immortalised his name-- MRS. ELVSTED. Oh, if only it could be put together again! TESMAN. Yes, if it only could! I don't know what I would not give-- MRS. ELVSTED. Perhaps it can, Mr. Tesman. TESMAN. What do you mean? MRS. ELVSTED. [Searches in the pocket of her dress.] Look here. I have kept all the loose notes he used to dictate from. HEDDA. [A step forward.] Ah--! TESMAN. You have kept them, Mrs. Elvsted! Eh? MRS. ELVSTED. Yes, I have them here. I put them in my pocket when I left home. Here they still are-- TESMAN. Oh, do let me see them! MRS. ELVSTED. [Hands him a bundle of papers.] But they are in such disorder--all mixed up. TESMAN. Fancy, if we could make something out of them, after all! Perhaps if we two put our heads together-- MRS. ELVSTED. Oh yes, at least let us try-- TESMAN. We will manage it! We must! I will dedicate my life to this task. HEDDA. You, George? Your life? TESMAN. Yes, or rather all the time I can spare. My own collections must wait in the meantime. Hedda--you understand, eh? I owe this to Eilert's memory. HEDDA. Perhaps. TESMAN. And so, my dear Mrs. Elvsted, we will give our whole minds to it. There is no use in brooding over what can't be undone--eh? We must try to control our grief as much as possible, and-- MRS. ELVSTED. Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can. TESMAN. Well then, come here. I can't rest until we have looked through the notes. Where shall we sit? Here? No, in there, in the back room. Excuse me, my dear Judge. Come with me, Mrs. Elvsted. MRS. ELVSTED. Oh, if only it were possible! [TESMAN and MRS. ELVSTED go into the back room. She takes off her hat and cloak. They both sit at the table under the hanging lamp, and are soon deep in an eager examination of the papers. HEDDA crosses to the stove and sits in the arm- chair. Presently BRACK goes up to her. HEDDA. [In a low voice.] Oh, what a sense of freedom it gives one, this act of Eilert Lovborg's. BRACK. Freedom, Mrs. Hedda? Well, of course, it is a release for him-- HEDDA. I mean for me. It gives me a sense of freedom to know that a deed of deliberate courage is still possible in this world,--a deed of spontaneous beauty. BRACK. [Smiling.] H'm--my dear Mrs. Hedda-- HEDDA. Oh, I know what you are going to say. For you are a kind of specialist too, like--you know! BRACK. [Looking hard at her.] Eilert Lovborg was more to you than perhaps you are willing to admit to yourself. Am I wrong? HEDDA. I don't answer such questions. I only know that Eilert Lovborg has had the courage to live his life after his own fashion. And then--the last great act, with its beauty! Ah! that he should have the will and the strength to turn away from the banquet of life--so early. BRACK. I am sorry, Mrs. Hedda,--but I fear I must dispel an amiable illusion. HEDDA. Illusion? BRACK. Which could not have lasted long in any case. HEDDA. What do you mean? BRACK. Eilert Lovborg did not shoot himself--voluntarily. HEDDA. Not voluntarily? BRACK. No. The thing did not happen exactly as I told it. HEDDA. [In suspense.] Have you concealed something? What is it? BRACK. For poor Mrs. Elvsted's sake I idealised the facts a little. HEDDA. What are the facts? BRACK. First, that he is already dead. HEDDA. At the hospital? BRACK. Yes--without regaining consciousness. HEDDA. What more have you concealed? BRACK. This--the event did not happen at his lodgings. HEDDA. Oh, that can make no difference. BRACK. Perhaps it may. For I must tell you--Eilert Lovborg was found shot in--in Mademoiselle Diana's boudoir. HEDDA. [Makes a motion as if to rise, but sinks back again.] That is impossible, Judge Brack! He cannot have been there again to-day. BRACK. He was there this afternoon. He went there, he said, to demand the return of something which they had taken from him. Talked wildly about a lost child-- HEDDA. Ah--so that is why-- BRACK. I thought probably he meant his manuscript; but now I hear he destroyed that himself. So I suppose it must have been his pocket-book. HEDDA. Yes, no doubt. And there--there he was found? BRACK. Yes, there. With a pistol in his breast-pocket, discharged. The ball had lodged in a vital part. HEDDA. In the breast--yes? BRACK. No--in the bowels. HEDDA. [Looks up at him with an expression of loathing.] That too! Oh, what curse is it that makes everything I touch turn ludicrous and mean? BRACK. There is one point more, Mrs. Hedda--another disagreeable feature in the affair. HEDDA. And what is that? BRACK. The pistol he carried-- HEDDA. [Breathless.] Well? What of it? BRACK. He must have stolen it. HEDDA. [Leaps up.] Stolen it! That is not true! He did not steal it! BRACK. No other explanation is possible. He must have stolen it--. Hush! TESMAN and MRS. ELVSTED have risen from the table in the back- room, and come into the drawing-room. TESMAN. [With the papers in both his hands.] Hedda, dear, it is almost impossible to see under that lamp. Think of that! HEDDA. Yes, I am thinking. TESMAN. Would you mind our sitting at your writing-table--eh? HEDDA. If you like. [Quickly.] No, wait! Let me clear it first! TESMAN. Oh, you needn't trouble, Hedda. There is plenty of room. HEDDA. No no, let me clear it, I say! I will take these things in and put them on the piano. There! [She has drawn out an object, covered with sheet music, from under the bookcase, places several other pieces of music upon it, and carries the whole into the inner room, to the left. TESMAN lays the scraps of paper on the writing-table, and moves the lamp there from the corner table. He and Mrs. Elvsted sit down and proceed with their work. HEDDA returns. HEDDA. [Behind Mrs. Elvsted's chair, gently ruffling her hair.] Well, my sweet Thea,--how goes it with Eilert Lovborg's monument? MRS. ELVSTED. [Looks dispiritedly up at her.] Oh, it will be terribly hard to put in order. TESMAN. We must manage it. I am determined. And arranging other people's papers is just the work for me. [HEDDA goes over to the stove, and seats herself on one of the footstools. BRACK stands over her, leaning on the arm-chair. HEDDA. [Whispers.] What did you say about the pistol? BRACK. [Softly.] That he must have stolen it. HEDDA. Why stolen it? BRACK. Because every other explanation ought to be impossible, Mrs. Hedda. HEDDA. Indeed? BRACK. [Glances at her.] Of course Eilert Lovborg was here this morning. Was he not? HEDDA. Yes. BRACK. Were you alone with him? HEDDA. Part of the time. BRACK. Did you not leave the room whilst he was here? HEDDA. No. BRACK. Try to recollect. Were you not out of the room a moment? HEDDA. Yes, perhaps just a moment--out in the hall. BRACK. And where was your pistol-case during that time? HEDDA. I had it locked up in-- BRACK. Well, Mrs. Hedda? HEDDA. The case stood there on the writing-table. BRACK. Have you looked since, to see whether both the pistols are there? HEDDA. No. BRACK. Well, you need not. I saw the pistol found in Lovborg's pocket, and I knew it at once as the one I had seen yesterday--and before, too. HEDDA. Have you it with you? BRACK. No; the police have it. HEDDA. What will the police do with it? BRACK. Search till they find the owner. HEDDA. Do you think they will succeed? BRACK. [Bends over her and whispers.] No, Hedda Gabler--not so long as I say nothing. HEDDA. [Looks frightened at him.] And if you do not say nothing,--what then? BRACK. [Shrugs his shoulders.] There is always the possibility that the pistol was stolen. HEDDA. [Firmly.] Death rather than that. BRACK. [Smiling.] People say such things--but they don't do them. HEDDA. [Without replying.] And supposing the pistol was not stolen, and the owner is discovered? What then? BRACK. Well, Hedda--then comes the scandal! HEDDA. The scandal! BRACK. Yes, the scandal--of which you are so mortally afraid. You will, of course, be brought before the court--both you and Mademoiselle Diana. She will have to explain how the thing happened--whether it was an accidental shot or murder. Did the pistol go off as he was trying to take it out of his pocket, to threaten her with? Or did she tear the pistol out of his hand, shoot him, and push it back into his pocket? That would be quite like her; for she is an able-bodied young person, this same Mademoiselle Diana. HEDDA. But _I_ have nothing to do with all this repulsive business. BRACK. No. But you will have to answer the question: Why did you give Eilert the pistol? And what conclusions will people draw from the fact that you did give it to him? HEDDA. [Lets her head sink.] That is true. I did not think of that. BRACK. Well, fortunately, there is no danger, so long as I say nothing. HEDDA.