The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 08 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
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The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 08 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
HEDVIG.
[_Sits up and dries her tears._] Now you must tell me what all this
means. Why doesn’t father want me any more?
GREGERS.
You mustn’t ask that till you are a big girl—quite grown-up.
HEDVIG.
[_Sobs._] But I can’t go on being as miserable as this till I'm
grown-up.—I think I know what it is.—Perhaps I'm not really father’s
child.
GREGERS.
[_Uneasily._] How could _that_ be?
HEDVIG.
Mother might have found me. And perhaps father has just got to know it;
I've read of such things.
GREGERS.
Well, but if it were so——
HEDVIG.
I think he might be just as fond of me for all that. Yes, fonder almost.
We got the wild duck in a present, you know, and I love it so dearly all
the same.
GREGERS.
[_Turning the conversation._] Ah, the wild duck, by-the-bye! Let us talk
about the wild duck a little, HEDVIG.
HEDVIG.
The poor wild duck! He doesn’t want to see it any more either. Only
think, he wanted to wring its neck!
GREGERS.
Oh, he won’t do that.
HEDVIG.
No; but he said he would like to. And I think it was horrid of father to
say it; for I pray for the wild duck every night, and ask that it may be
preserved from death and all that is evil.
GREGERS.
[_Looking at her._] Do you say your prayers every night?
HEDVIG.
Yes.
GREGERS.
Who taught you to do that?
HEDVIG.
I myself; one time when father was very ill, and had leeches on his
neck, and said that death was staring him in the face.
GREGERS.
Well?
HEDVIG.
Then I prayed for him as I lay in bed; and since then I have always kept
it up.
GREGERS.
And now you pray for the wild duck too?
HEDVIG.
I thought it was best to bring in the wild duck; for she was so weakly
at first.
GREGERS.
Do you pray in the morning, too?
HEDVIG.
No, of course not.
GREGERS.
Why not in the morning as well?
HEDVIG.
In the morning it’s light, you know, and there’s nothing in particular
to be afraid of.
GREGERS.
And your father was going to wring the neck of the wild duck that you
love so dearly?
HEDVIG.
No; he said he ought to wring its neck, but he would spare it for my
sake; and that was kind of father.
GREGERS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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