The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 06 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
General
The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 06 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
She herself? What do you mean? Oh, of course she has plenty to interest
herself in—Betty, and Olaf, and me, you know. People ought not to think
of themselves first; women least of all. We have each our community,
great or small, to support and work for. I do so, at any rate.
[_Pointing to_ KRAP, _who enters from the right._] See, here you have an
instance. Do you think it is my own business I am occupied with? By no
means. [_Quickly to_ KRAP.] Well?
Krap.
[_Whispers, showing him a bundle of papers._] All the arrangements for
the purchase are complete.
BERNICK.
Capital! excellent!—Oh, Johan, you must excuse me for a moment. [_Low,
and with a pressure of the hand._] Thanks, thanks, Johan; and be sure
that anything I can do to serve you—you understand——Come, Mr. Krap!
[_They go into the Consul’s office._
JOHAN.
[_Looks after him for some time._] H’m——!
[_He turns to go down the garden. At the same moment_ MARTHA
_enters from the right with a little basket on her arm._
JOHAN.
Ah, Martha!
MARTHA.
Oh—Johan—is that you?
JOHAN.
Have you been out so early too?
MARTHA.
Yes. Wait a little; the others will be here soon.
[_Turns to go out to the left._
JOHAN.
Tell me, Martha—why are you always in such a hurry?
MARTHA.
I?
JOHAN.
Yesterday you seemed to keep out of my way, so that I could not get a
word with you; and to-day——
MARTHA.
Yes, but——
JOHAN.
Before, we were always together—we two old playfellows.
MARTHA.
Ah, Johan, that is many, many years ago.
JOHAN.
Why, bless me, it’s fifteen years ago, neither more nor less. Perhaps
you think I have changed a great deal?
MARTHA.
You? Oh yes, you too, although——
JOHAN.
What do you mean?
MARTHA.
Oh, nothing.
JOHAN.
You don’t seem overjoyed to see me again.
MARTHA.
I have waited so long, Johan—_too_ long.
JOHAN.
Waited? For me to come?
MARTHA.
Yes.
JOHAN.
And why did you think I would come?
MARTHA.
To expiate where you had sinned.
JOHAN.
I?
MARTHA.
Have you forgotten that a woman died in shame and need for your sake?
Have you forgotten that by your fault a young girl’s best years have
been embittered?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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