The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 07 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
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The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 07 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
[_Laying her hand on his mouth._] Hush! How can you talk so horridly?
HELMER.
But supposing it were to happen—what then?
NORA.
If anything so dreadful happened, it would be all the same to me whether
I was in debt or not.
HELMER.
But what about the creditors?
NORA.
They! Who cares for _them_? They’re only strangers.
HELMER.
Nora, Nora! What a _woman_ you are! But seriously, Nora, you know my
principles on these points. No debts! No borrowing! Home life ceases to
be free and beautiful as soon as it is founded on borrowing and debt. We
two have held out bravely till now, and we are not going to give in at
the last.
NORA.
[_Going to the fireplace._] Very well—as you please, Torvald.
HELMER.
[_Following her._] Come come; my little lark mustn’t droop her wings
like that. What? Is my squirrel in the sulks? [_Takes out his purse._]
Nora, what do you think I have here?
NORA.
[_Turning round quickly._] Money!
HELMER.
There! [_Gives her some notes._] Of course I know all sorts of things
are wanted at Christmas.
NORA.
[_Counting._] Ten, twenty, thirty, forty. Oh, thank you, thank you,
Torvald! This will go a long way.
HELMER.
I should hope so.
NORA.
Yes, indeed; a long way! But come here, and let me show you all I’ve
been buying. And so cheap! Look, here’s a new suit for Ivar, and a
little sword. Here are a horse and a trumpet for Bob. And here are a
doll and a cradle for Emmy. They’re only common; but they’re good enough
for her to pull to pieces. And dress-stuffs and kerchiefs for the
servants. I ought to have got something better for old Anna.
HELMER.
And what’s in that other parcel?
NORA.
[_Crying out._] No, Torvald, you’re not to see that until this evening!
HELMER.
Oh! Ah! But now tell me, you little spendthrift, have you thought of
anything for yourself?
NORA.
For myself! Oh, I don’t want anything.
HELMER.
Nonsense! Just tell me something sensible you would like to have.
NORA.
No, really I don’t know of anything——Well, listen, Torvald——
HELMER.
Well?
NORA.
[_Playing with his coat-buttons, without looking him in the face._] If
you really want to give me something, you might, you know—you might——
HELMER.
Well? Out with it!
NORA.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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