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.
Goodness, yes, you were always so playful and friendly, and I was so
afraid of you. I am still. And please, I've run away from my husband.
Everything around him was distasteful to me. And Mr. Lövborg and I were
comrades--he was dissipated, and I got a sort of power over him, and he
made a real person out of me--which I wasn't before, you know; but, oh,
I do hope I'm real now. He talked to me and taught me to think--chiefly
of him. So, when Mr. Lövborg came here, naturally I came too. There was
nothing else to do! And fancy, there is another woman whose shadow still
stands between him and me! She wanted to shoot him once, and so, of
course, he can never forget her. I wish I knew her name--perhaps it was
that red-haired opera-singer?
HEDDA.
[_With cold self-command._] Very likely--but nobody does that sort of
thing here. Hush! Run away now. Here comes Tesman with Judge Brack.
[MRS. ELVSTED _goes out;_ GEORGE _comes in with_ JUDGE BRACK, _who is a
short and elastic gentleman, with a round face, carefully brushed hair,
and distinguished profile._] How awfully funny you do look by daylight,
Judge!
BRACK.
[_Holding his hat and dropping his eye-glass._] Sincerest thanks. Still
the same graceful manners, dear little Mrs. Hed--Tesman! I came to
invite dear Tesman to a little bachelor-party to celebrate his return
from his long honeymoon. It is customary in Scandinavian society. It
will be a lively affair, for I am a gay Norwegian dog.
[Illustration: "I am a gay Norwegian dog."]
GEORGE.
Asked out--without my wife! Think of that! Eh? Oh, dear me, yes, _I_'ll
come!
BRACK.
By the way, Lövborg is here; he has written a wonderful book, which has
made a quite extraordinary sensation. Bless me, yes!
GEORGE.
Lövborg--fancy! Well, I _am_--glad. Such marvellous gifts! And I was so
painfully certain he had gone to the bad. Fancy that, eh? But what will
become of him _now_, poor fellow, eh? I am so anxious to know!
BRACK.
Well, he may possibly put up for the Professorship against you, and,
though you _are_ an uncommonly clever man of letters--for a
Norwegian--it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out!
GEORGE.
But, look here, good Lord, Judge Brack!--[_gesticulating_]--that would
show an incredible want of consideration for me! I married on my chance
of _getting_ that professorship. A man like Lövborg, too, who hasn't
even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that!
BRACK.
Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons here,
and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself!
[_He goes out._
GEORGE.
[_To_ HEDDA.] Oh, I say, Hedda, what's to become of our fairyland now,
eh? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner parties, or have a
horse for riding. Fancy that!
HEDDA.
[_Slowly, and wearily._] No, we shall really have to set up as fairies
in reduced circumstances, now.
GEORGE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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