Act I

A spacious, handsome, and tastefully furnished drawing room,

decorated in dark colours. In the back, a wide doorway with

curtains drawn back, leading into a smaller room decorated

in the same style as the drawing-room. In the right-hand

wall of the front room, a folding door leading out to the

hall. In the opposite wall, on the left, a glass door, also

with curtains drawn back. Through the panes can be seen

part of a verandah outside, and trees covered with autumn

foliage. An oval table, with a cover on it, and surrounded

by chairs, stands well forward. In front, by the wall on

the right, a wide stove of dark porcelain, a high-backed

arm-chair, a cushioned foot-rest, and two footstools. A

settee, with a small round table in front of it, fills the

upper right-hand corner. In front, on the left, a little

way from the wall, a sofa. Further back than the glass

door, a piano. On either side of the doorway at the back

a whatnot with terra-cotta and majolica ornaments.—

Against the back wall of the inner room a sofa, with a

table, and one or two chairs. Over the sofa hangs the

portrait of a handsome elderly man in a General's uniform.

Over the table a hanging lamp, with an opal glass shade.—A

number of bouquets are arranged about the drawing-room, in

vases and glasses. Others lie upon the tables. The floors

in both rooms are covered with thick carpets.—Morning light.

The sun shines in through the glass door.

MISS JULIANA TESMAN, with her bonnet on a carrying a parasol,

comes in from the hall, followed by BERTA, who carries a

bouquet wrapped in paper. MISS TESMAN is a comely and pleasant-

looking lady of about sixty-five. She is nicely but simply

dressed in a grey walking-costume. BERTA is a middle-aged

woman of plain and rather countrified appearance.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Stops close to the door, listens, and says softly:] Upon my word, I

don't believe they are stirring yet!

BERTA.:

[Also softly.] I told you so, Miss. Remember how late the steamboat

got in last night. And then, when they got home!—good Lord, what a

lot the young mistress had to unpack before she could get to bed.

MISS TESMAN.:

Well well—let them have their sleep out. But let us see that they

get a good breath of the fresh morning air when they do appear.

[She goes to the glass door and throws it open.

BERTA.:

[Beside the table, at a loss what to do with the bouquet in her hand.]

I declare there isn't a bit of room left. I think I'll put it down

here, Miss. [She places it on the piano.

MISS TESMAN.:

So you've got a new mistress now, my dear Berta. Heaven knows it was

a wrench to me to part with you.

BERTA.:

[On the point of weeping.] And do you think it wasn't hard for me,

too, Miss? After all the blessed years I've been with you and Miss

Rina.(1)

MISS TESMAN.:

We must make the best of it, Berta. There was nothing else to be

done. George can't do without you, you see-he absolutely can't.

He has had you to look after him ever since he was a little boy.

BERTA.:

Ah but, Miss Julia, I can't help thinking of Miss Rina lying helpless

at home there, poor thing. And with only that new girl too! She'll

never learn to take proper care of an invalid.

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, I shall manage to train her. And of course, you know, I shall

take most of it upon myself. You needn't be uneasy about my poor

sister, my dear Berta.

BERTA.:

Well, but there's another thing, Miss. I'm so mortally afraid I

shan't be able to suit the young mistress.

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh well—just at first there may be one or two things—-

BERTA.:

Most like she'll be terrible grand in her ways.

MISS TESMAN.:

Well, you can't wonder at that—General Gabler's daughter! Think of

the sort of life she was accustomed to in her father's time. Don't

you remember how we used to see her riding down the road along with

the General? In that long black habit—and with feathers in her hat?

BERTA.:

Yes, indeed—I remember well enough!—But, good Lord, I should never

have dreamt in those days that she and Master George would make a

match of it.

MISS TESMAN.:

Nor I.—But by-the-bye, Berta—while I think of it: in future you

mustn't say Master George. You must say Dr. Tesman.

BERTA.:

Yes, the young mistress spoke of that too—last night—the moment

they set foot in the house. Is it true then, Miss?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, indeed it is. Only think, Berta—some foreign university has

made him a doctor—while he has been abroad, you understand. I

hadn't heard a word about it, until he told me himself upon the pier.

BERTA.:

Well well, he's clever enough for anything, he is. But I didn't think

he'd have gone in for doctoring people.

MISS TESMAN.:

No no, it's not that sort of doctor he is.[Nods significantly.]

But let me tell you, we may have to call him something still grander

before long.

BERTA.:

You don't day so! What can that be, Miss?

MISS TESMAN.:

[Smiling.] H'm—wouldn't you like to know! [With emotion.] Ah,

dear dear—if my poor brother could only look up from his grave now,

and see what his little boy has grown into![Looks around.]But

bless me, Berta—why have you done this? Taken the chintz covers off

all the furniture.

BERTA.:

The mistress told me to. She can't abide covers on the chairs, she

says.

MISS TESMAN.:

Are they going to make this their everyday sitting-room then?

BERTA.:

Yes, that's what I understood—from the mistress. Master George—the

doctor—he said nothing.

GEORGE TESMAN comes from the right into the inner room,

humming to himself, and carrying an unstrapped empty

portmanteau. He is a middle-sized, young-looking man of

thirty-three, rather stout, with a round, open, cheerful

face, fair hair and beard. He wears spectacles, and is

somewhat carelessly dressed in comfortable indoor clothes.

MISS TESMAN.:

Good morning, good morning, George.

TESMAN.:

[In the doorway between the rooms.] Aunt Julia! Dear Aunt Julia!

[Goes up to her and shakes hands warmly.] Come all this way—so

early! Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Why, of course I had to come and see how you were getting on.

TESMAN.:

In spite of your having had no proper night's rest?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, that makes no difference to me.

TESMAN.:

Well, I suppose you got home all right from the pier? Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, quite safely, thank goodness. Judge Brack was good enough to

see me right to my door.

TESMAN.:

We were so sorry we couldn't give you a seat in the carriage. But

you saw what a pile of boxes Hedda had to bring with her.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, she had certainly plenty of boxes.

BERTA.:

[To TESMAN.] Shall I go in and see if there's anything I can do for

the mistress?

TESMAN.:

No thank you, Berta—you needn't. She said she would ring if she

wanted anything.

BERTA.:

[Going towards the right.] Very well.

TESMAN.:

But look here—take this portmanteau with you.

BERTA.:

[Taking it.] I'll put it in the attic.

[She goes out by the hall door.

TESMAN.:

Fancy, Auntie—I had the whole of that portmanteau chock full of

copies of the documents. You wouldn't believe how much I have picked

up from all the archives I have been examining—curious old details

that no one has had any idea of—-

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, you don't seem to have wasted you time on your wedding trip,

George.

TESMAN.:

No, that I haven't. But do take off your bonnet, Auntie. Look here!

Let me untie the strings—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

[While he does so.] Well well—this is just as if you were still at

home with us.

TESMAN.:

[With the bonnet in his hand, looks at it from all sides.] Why, what

a gorgeous bonnet you've been investing in!

MISS TESMAN.:

I bought it on Hedda's account.

TESMAN.:

On Hedda's account? Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, so that Hedda needn't be ashamed of me if we happened to go out

together.

TESMAN.:

[Patting her cheek.] You always think of everything, Aunt Julia.

[Lays the bonnet on a chair beside the table.] And now, look here—

suppose we sit comfortably on the sofa and have a little chat, till

Hedda comes.

[They seat themselves. She places her parasol in the corner

of the sofa.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Takes both his hands and looks at him.] What a delight it is to

have you again, as large as life, before my very eyes, George! My

George—my poor brother's own boy!

TESMAN.:

And it's a delight for me, too, to see you again, Aunt Julia! You,

who have been father and mother in one to me.

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh yes, I know you will always keep a place in your heart for your

old aunts.

TESMAN.:

And what about Aunt Rina? No improvement—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, no—we can scarcely look for any improvement in her case, poor

thing. There she lies, helpless, as she has lain for all these years.

But heaven grant I may not lose her yet awhile! For if I did, I don't

know what I should make of my life, George—especially now that I

haven't you to look after any more.

TESMAN.:

[Patting her back.] There there there—-!

MISS TESMAN.:

[Suddenly changing her tone.] And to think that here are you a married

man, George!—And that you should be the one to carry off Hedda Gabler

—the beautiful Hedda Gabler! Only think of it—she, that was so

beset with admirers!

TESMAN.:

[Hums a little and smiles complacently.] Yes, I fancy I have several

good friends about town who would like to stand in my shoes—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

And then this fine long wedding-tour you have had! More than five—

nearly six months—-

TESMAN.:

Well, for me it has been a sort of tour of research as well. I have

had to do so much grubbing among old records—and to read no end of

books too, Auntie.

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh yes, I suppose so.[More confidentially, and lowering her voicea little.]But listen now, George,—have you nothing—nothing special

to tell me?

TESMAN.:

As to our journey?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes.:

TESMAN.:

No, I don't know of anything except what I have told you in my

letters. I had a doctor's degree conferred on me—but that I told

you yesterday.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, yes, you did. But what I mean is—haven't you any—any—

expectations—-?

TESMAN.:

Expectations?

MISS TESMAN.:

Why you know, George—I'm your old auntie!

TESMAN.:

Why, of course I have expectations.

MISS TESMAN.:

Ah!

TESMAN.:

I have every expectation of being a professor one of these days.:

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh yes, a professor—-

TESMAN.:

Indeed, I may say I am certain of it. But my dear Auntie—you know

all about that already!

MISS TESMAN.:

[Laughing to herself.] Yes, of course I do. You are quite right

there.[Changing the subject.]But we were talking about your

journey. It must have cost a great deal of money, George?

Tesman.:

Well, you see—my handsome travelling-scholarship went a good way.

MISS TESMAN.:

But I can't understand how you can have made it go far enough for two.

TESMAN.:

No, that's not easy to understand—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

And especially travelling with a lady—they tell me that makes it ever

so much more expensive.

TESMAN.:

Yes, of course—it makes it a little more expensive. But Hedda had to

have this trip, Auntie! She really had to. Nothing else would have

done.

MISS TESMAN.:

No no, I suppose not. A wedding-tour seems to be quite indispensable

nowadays.—But tell me now—have you gone thoroughly over the house

yet?

TESMAN.:

Yes, you may be sure I have. I have been afoot ever since daylight.

MISS TESMAN.:

And what do you think of it all?

TESMAN.:

I'm delighted! Quite delighted! Only I can't think what we are to

do with the two empty rooms between this inner parlour and Hedda's

bedroom.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Laughing.] Oh my dear George, I daresay you may find some use for

them—in the course of time.

TESMAN.:

Why of course you are quite right, Aunt Julia! You mean as my library

increases—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, quite so, my dear boy. It was your library I was thinking of.

TESMAN.:

I am specially pleased on Hedda's account. Often and often, before

we were engaged, she said that she would never care to live anywhere

but in Secretary Falk's villa.(2)

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, it was lucky that this very house should come into the market,

just after you had started.

TESMAN.:

Yes, Aunt Julia, the luck was on our side, wasn't it—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

But the expense, my dear George! You will find it very expensive,

all this.

TESMAN.:

[Looks at her, a little cast down.] Yes, I suppose I shall, Aunt!

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, frightfully!

TESMAN.:

How much do you think? In round numbers?—Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, I can't even guess until all the accounts come in.

TESMAN.:

Well, fortunately, Judge Brack has secured the most favourable terms

for me, so he said in a letter to Hedda.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, don't be uneasy, my dear boy.—Besides, I have given security

for the furniture and all the carpets.

TESMAN.:

Security? You? My dear Aunt Julia—what sort of security could you

give?

MISS TESMAN.:

I have given a mortgage on our annuity.:

TESMAN.:

[Jumps up.] What! On your—and Aunt Rina's annuity!

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, I knew of no other plan, you see.

TESMAN.:

[Placing himself before her.] Have you gone out of your senses,

Auntie? Your annuity—it's all that you and Aunt Rina have to

live upon.

MISS TESMAN.:

Well well—don't get so excited about it. It's only a matter of

form you know—Judge Brack assured me of that. It was he that was

kind enough to arrange the whole affair for me. A mere matter of

form, he said.

TESMAN.:

Yes, that may be all very well. But nevertheless—-

MISS TESMAN.:

You will have your own salary to depend upon now. And, good heavens,

even if we did have to pay up a little—-! To eke things out a bit

at the start—-! Why, it would be nothing but a pleasure to us.

TESMAN.:

Oh Auntie—will you never be tired of making sacrifices for me!

MISS TESMAN.:

[Rises and lays her hand on his shoulders.] Have I any other happiness

in this world except to smooth your way for you, my dear boy. You,

who have had neither father nor mother to depend on. And now we have

reached the goal, George! Things have looked black enough for us,

sometimes; but, thank heaven, now you have nothing to fear.

TESMAN.:

Yes, it is really marvellous how every thing has turned out for the

best.

MISS TESMAN.:

And the people who opposed you—who wanted to bar the way for you—

now you have them at your feet. They have fallen, George. Your most

dangerous rival—his fall was the worst.—And now he has to lie on

the bed he has made for himself—poor misguided creature.

TESMAN.:

Have you heard anything of Eilert? Since I went away, I mean.

MISS TESMAN.:

Only that he is said to have published a new book.:

TESMAN.:

What! Eilert Lovborg! Recently—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, so they say. Heaven knows whether it can be worth anything! Ah,

when your new book appears—that will be another story, George! What

is it to be about?

TESMAN.:

It will deal with the domestic industries of Brabant during the

Middle Ages.

MISS TESMAN.:

Fancy—to be able to write on such a subject as that!

TESMAN.:

However, it may be some time before the book is ready. I have all

these collections to arrange first, you see.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, collecting and arranging—no one can beat you at that. There

you are my poor brother's own son.

TESMAN.:

I am looking forward eagerly to setting to work at it; especially now

that I have my own delightful home to work in.

MISS TESMAN.:

And, most of all, now that you have got the wife of your heart, my

dear George.

TESMAN.:

[Embracing her.] Oh yes, yes, Aunt Julia! Hedda—she is the best

part of it all! I believe I hear her coming—eh?

HEDDA enters from the left through the inner room. Her face

and figure show refinement and distinction. Her complexion

is pale and opaque. Her steel-grey eyes express a cold,

unruffled repose. Her hair is of an agreeable brown, but

not particularly abundant. She is dressed in a tasteful,

somewhat loose-fitting morning gown.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Going to meet HEDDA.] Good morning, my dear Hedda! Good morning,

and a hearty welcome!

HEDDA.:

[Holds out her hand.] Good morning, dear Miss Tesman! So early a

call! That is kind of you.

MISS TESMAN.:

[With some embarrassment.] Well—has the bride slept well in her

new home?

HEDDA.:

Oh yes, thanks. Passably.

TESMAN.:

[Laughing.] Passably! Come, that's good, Hedda! You were sleeping

like a stone when I got up.

HEDDA.:

Fortunately. Of course one has always to accustom one's self to new

surroundings, Miss Tesman—little by little.[Looking towards theleft.]Oh, there the servant has gone and opened the veranda door,

and let in a whole flood of sunshine.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Going towards the door.] Well, then we will shut it.

HEDDA.:

No no, not that! Tesman, please draw the curtains. That will give a

softer light.

TESMAN.:

[At the door.] All right—all right.—There now, Hedda, now you have

both shade and fresh air.

HEDDA.:

Yes, fresh air we certainly must have, with all these stacks of

flowers—-. But—won't you sit down, Miss Tesman?

MISS TESMAN.:

No, thank you. Now that I have seen that everything is all right

here—thank heaven!—I must be getting home again. My sister is

lying longing for me, poor thing.

TESMAN.:

Give her my very best love, Auntie; and say I shall look in and see

her later in the day.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, yes, I'll be sure to tell her. But by-the-bye, George—[Feelingin her dress pocket]—I had almost forgotten—I have something for

you here.

TESMAN.:

What is it, Auntie? Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

[Produces a flat parcel wrapped in newspaper and hands it to him.]

Look here, my dear boy.

TESMAN.:

[Opening the parcel.] Well, I declare!—Have you really saved them

for me, Aunt Julia! Hedda! isn't this touching—eh?

HEDDA.:

[Beside the whatnot on the right.] Well, what is it?

TESMAN.:

My old morning-shoes! My slippers.

HEDDA.:

Indeed. I remember you often spoke of them while we were abroad.

TESMAN.:

Yes, I missed them terribly.[Goes up to her.]Now you shall see

them, Hedda!

HEDDA.:

[Going towards the stove.] Thanks, I really don't care about it.

TESMAN.:

[Following her.] Only think—ill as she was, Aunt Rina embroidered

these for me. Oh you can't think how many associations cling to them.

HEDDA.:

[At the table.] Scarcely for me.

MISS TESMAN.:

Of course not for Hedda, George.

TESMAN.:

Well, but now that she belongs to the family, I thought—-

HEDDA.:

[Interrupting.] We shall never get on with this servant, Tesman.

MISS TESMAN.:

Not get on with Berta?

TESMAN.:

Why, dear, what puts that in your head? Eh?

HEDDA.:

[Pointing.] Look there! She has left her old bonnet lying about on

a chair.

TESMAN.:

[In consternation, drops the slippers on the floor.] Why, Hedda—-

HEDDA.:

Just fancy, if any one should come in and see it!

TESMAN.:

But Hedda—that's Aunt Julia's bonnet.

HEDDA.:

Is it!

MISS TESMAN.:

[Taking up the bonnet.] Yes, indeed it's mine. And, what's more,

it's not old, Madam Hedda.

HEDDA.:

I really did not look closely at it, Miss Tesman.

MISS TESMAN.:

[Trying on the bonnet.] Let me tell you it's the first time I have

worn it—the very first time.

TESMAN.:

And a very nice bonnet it is too—quite a beauty!

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, it's no such great things, George.[Looks around her.]My

parasol—-? Ah, here.[Takes it.]For this is mine too—[mutters]

—not Berta's.

TESMAN.:

A new bonnet and a new parasol! Only think, Hedda.

HEDDA.:

Very handsome indeed.:

TESMAN.:

Yes, isn't it? Eh? But Auntie, take a good look at Hedda before you

go! See how handsome she is!

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, my dear boy, there's nothing new in that. Hedda was always lovely.

[She nods and goes toward the right.

TESMAN.:

[Following.] Yes, but have you noticed what splendid condition she

is in? How she has filled out on the journey?

HEDDA.:

[Crossing the room.] Oh, do be quiet—-!

MISS TESMAN.:

[Who has stopped and turned.] Filled out?

TESMAN.:

Of course you don't notice it so much now that she has that dress on.

But I, who can see—-

HEDDA.:

[At the glass door, impatiently.] Oh, you can't see anything.

TESMAN.:

It must be the mountain air in the Tyrol—-

HEDDA.:

[Curtly, interrupting.] I am exactly as I was when I started.

TESMAN.:

So you insist; but I'm quite certain you are not. Don't you agree

with me, Auntie?

MISS TESMAN.:

[Who has been gazing at her with folded hands.] Hedda is lovely—

lovely—lovely.[Goes up to her, takes her head between both hands,draws it downwards, and kisses her hair.]God bless and preserve

Hedda Tesman—for George's sake.

HEDDA.:

[Gently freeing herself.] Oh—! Let me go.

MISS TESMAN.:

[In quiet emotion.] I shall not let a day pass without coming to see

you.

TESMAN.:

No you won't, will you, Auntie? Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Good-bye—good-bye!

[She goes out by the hall door. TESMAN accompanies her. The

door remains half open. TESMAN can be heard repeating his

message to Aunt Rina and his thanks for the slippers.

[In the meantime, HEDDA walks about the room, raising her arms

and clenching her hands as if in desperation. Then she flings

back the curtains from the glass door, and stands there looking

out.

[Presently, TESMAN returns and closes the door behind him.

TESMAN.:

[Picks up the slippers from the floor.] What are you looking at,

Hedda?

HEDDA.:

[Once more calm and mistress of herself.] I am only looking at the

leaves. They are so yellow—so withered.

TESMAN.:

[Wraps up the slippers and lays them on the table.] Well, you see,

we are well into September now.

HEDDA.:

[Again restless.] Yes, to think of it!—already in—in September.

TESMAN.:

Don't you think Aunt Julia's manner was strange, dear? Almost solemn?

Can you imagine what was the matter with her? Eh?

HEDDA.:

I scarcely know her, you see. Is she not often like that?

TESMAN.:

No, not as she was to-day.

HEDDA.:

[Leaving the glass door.] Do you think she was annoyed about the

bonnet?

TESMAN.:

Oh, scarcely at all. Perhaps a little, just at the moment—-

HEDDA.:

But what an idea, to pitch her bonnet about in the drawing-room! No

one does that sort of thing.

TESMAN.:

Well you may be sure Aunt Julia won't do it again.

HEDDA.:

In any case, I shall manage to make my peace with her.

TESMAN.:

Yes, my dear, good Hedda, if you only would.

HEDDA.:

When you call this afternoon, you might invite her to spend the

evening here.

TESMAN.:

Yes, that I will. And there's one thing more you could do that would

delight her heart.

HEDDA.:

What is it?

TESMAN.:

If you could only prevail on yourself to say _du_(3) to her. For my

sake, Hedda? Eh?

HEDDA.:

No, no, Tesman—you really mustn't ask that of me. I have told you so

already. I shall try to call her "Aunt"; and you must be satisfied

with that.

TESMAN.:

Well well. Only I think now that you belong to the family, you—-

HEDDA.:

H'm—I can't in the least see why—-

[She goes up towards the middle doorway.

TESMAN.:

[After a pause.] Is there anything the matter with you, Hedda? Eh?

HEDDA.:

I'm only looking at my old piano. It doesn't go at all well with all

the other things.

TESMAN.:

The first time I draw my salary, we'll see about exchanging it.

HEDDA.:

No, no—no exchanging. I don't want to part with it. Suppose we put

it there in the inner room, and then get another here in its place.

When it's convenient, I mean.

TESMAN.:

[A little taken aback.] Yes—of course we could do that.

HEDDA.:

[Takes up the bouquet from the piano.] These flowers were not here

last night when we arrived.

TESMAN.:

Aunt Julia must have brought them for you.:

HEDDA.:

[Examining the bouquet.] A visiting-card. [Takes it out and reads:]

"Shall return later in the day." Can you guess whose card it is?

TESMAN.:

No. Whose? Eh?

HEDDA.:

The name is "