The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 08 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
General
The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 08 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
[_Coming a little nearer._] But suppose you were to sacrifice the wild
duck of your own free will for _his_ sake.
HEDVIG.
[_Rising._] The wild duck!
GREGERS.
Suppose you were to make a free-will offering, for his sake, of the
dearest treasure you have in the world!
HEDVIG.
Do you think _that_ would do any good?
GREGERS.
Try it, Hedvig.
HEDVIG.
[_Softly, with flashing eyes._] Yes, I will try it.
GREGERS.
Have you really the courage for it, do you think?
HEDVIG.
I'll ask grandfather to shoot the wild duck for me.
GREGERS.
Yes, do. But not a word to your mother about it.
HEDVIG.
Why not?
GREGERS.
She doesn’t understand us.
HEDVIG.
The wild duck! I'll try it to-morrow morning!
[GINA _comes in by the passage door._
HEDVIG.
[_Going towards her._] Did you find him, mother?
GINA.
No, but I heard as he had called and taken Relling with him.
GREGERS.
Are you sure of that?
GINA.
Yes, the porter’s wife said so. Molvik went with them too, she said.
GREGERS.
This evening, when his mind so sorely needs to wrestle in solitude——!
GINA.
[_Takes off her things._] Yes, men are strange creatures, so they are.
The Lord only knows where Relling has dragged him to! I ran over to
Madam Eriksen’s, but they weren’t _there_.
HEDVIG.
[_Struggling to keep back her tears._] Oh, if he should never come home
any more!
GREGERS.
He _will_ come home again. I shall have news to give him to-morrow; and
then you shall see _how_ he comes home. You may rely upon that, Hedvig,
and sleep in peace. Good-night.
[_He goes out by the passage door._
HEDVIG.
[_Throws herself sobbing on_ GINA’S _neck._] Mother, mother!
GINA.
[_Pats her shoulder and sighs._] Ah yes; Relling was right, he was.
That’s what comes of it when crazy creatures go about presenting the
claims of the—what-you-may-call-it.
ACT FIFTH.
HIALMAR EKDAL’S _studio. Cold, grey, morning light. Wet snow lies upon
the large panes of the sloping roof-window._
GINA _comes from the kitchen with an apron and bib on, and carrying a
dusting-brush and a duster; she goes towards the sitting-room
door. At the same moment_ HEDVIG _comes hurriedly in from the
passage._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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