Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known DramasAnstey, F.
General
Mr Punch's Pocket Ibsen - A Collection of Some of the Master's Best Known Dramas
Anstey, F.
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Parodies, imitations, etc.
[_Putting on a cloak and taking it off again._] Bother Krogstad! There,
I won't think of him. I'll only think of the costume ball at Consul
Stenborg's, overhead, to-night, where I am to dance the Tarantella all
alone, dressed as a Capri fisher-girl. It struck Torvald that, as I am
a matron with three children, my performance might amuse the Consul's
guests, and, at the same time, increase his connection at the Bank.
Torvald is so practical. [_To_ MRS. LINDEN, _who comes in with a large
cardboard box._] Ah, Christina, so you have brought in my old costume?
_Would_ you mind, as my husband's new Cashier, just doing up the
trimming for me?
MRS. LINDEN.
Not at all--is it not part of my regular duties? [_Sewing._] Don't you
think, Nora, that you see a little too much of Dr. Rank?
NORA.
Oh, I _couldn't_ see too much of Dr. Rank! He _is_ so amusing--always
talking about his complaints, and heredity, and all sorts of
indescribably funny things. Go away now, dear; I hear Torvald.
[MRS. LINDEN _goes. Enter_ TORVALD _from the Manager's room._ NORA
_runs trippingly to him._
NORA.
[_Coaxing._] Oh, Torvald, if only you won't dismiss Krogstad, you can't
think how your little lark would jump about and twitter.
HELMER.
The inducement would be stronger but for the fact that, as it is, the
little lark is generally engaged in that particular occupation. And I
really _must_ get rid of Krogstad. If I didn't, people would say I was
under the thumb of my little squirrel here, and then Krogstad and I knew
each other in early youth; and when two people knew each other in early
youth--[_a short pause_]--h'm! Besides, he will address me as, "I say,
Torvald"--which causes me most painful emotion! He is tactless,
dishonest, familiar, and morally ruined--altogether not at all the kind
of person to be a Cashier in a Bank like mine.
NORA.
But he writes in scurrilous papers--he is on the staff of the Norwegian
_Punch_. If you dismiss him, he may write nasty things about _you_, as
wicked people did about poor dear papa!
HELMER.
Your poor dear papa was not impeccable--far from it. I _am_--which makes
all the difference. I have here a letter giving Krogstad the sack. One
of the conveniences of living close to the Bank is, that I can use the
housemaids as Bank-messengers. [_Goes to door and calls._] Ellen!
[_Enter parlourmaid._] Take that letter--there is no answer. [ELLEN
_takes it and goes._] That's settled--and now, Nora, as I am going to my
private room, it will be a capital opportunity for you to practise the
tambourine--thump away, little lark, the doors are double!
[_Nods to her and goes in, shutting door._
NORA.
[_Stroking her face._] How _am_ I to get out of this mess? [_A ring at
the visitors' bell._] Dr. Rank's ring! _He_ shall help me out of it!
[Dr. RANK _appears in doorway, hanging up his great-coat._] Dear Dr.
Rank, how _are_ you? [_Takes both his hands_.
DR. RANK.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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