Act II

The room at the TESMANS' as in the first Act, except that the

piano has been removed, and an elegant little writing-table

with the book-shelves put in its place. A smaller table

stands near the sofa on the left. Most of the bouquets have

been taken away. MRS. ELVSTED'S bouquet is upon the large

table in front.—It is afternoon.

HEDDA, dressed to receive callers, is alone in the room. She

stands by the open glass door, loading a revolver. The

fellow to it lies in an open pistol-case on the writing-

table.

HEDDA.:

[Looks down the garden, and calls:] So you are here again, Judge!

BRACK.:

[Is heard calling from a distance.] As you see, Mrs. Tesman!

HEDDA.:

[Raises the pistol and points.] Now I'll shoot you, Judge Brack!

BRACK.:

[Calling unseen.] No, no, no! Don't stand aiming at me!

HEDDA.:

This is what comes of sneaking in by the back way.(7) [She fires.

BRACK.:

[Nearer.] Are you out of your senses—-!

HEDDA.:

Dear me—did I happen to hit you?

BRACK.:

[Still outside.] I wish you would let these pranks alone!

HEDDA.:

Come in then, Judge.

JUDGE BRACK, dressed as though for a men's party, enters by

the glass door. He carries a light overcoat over his arm.

BRACK.:

What the deuce—haven't you tired of that sport, yet? What are you

shooting at?

HEDDA.:

Oh, I am only firing in the air.

BRACK.:

[Gently takes the pistol out of her hand.] Allow me, madam! [Looksat it.] Ah—I know this pistol well! [Looks around.] Where is the

case? Ah, here it is.[Lays the pistol in it, and shuts it.]Now

we won't play at that game any more to-day.

HEDDA.:

Then what in heaven's name would you have me do with myself?

BRACK.:

Have you had no visitors?

HEDDA.:

[Closing the glass door.] Not one. I suppose all our set are still

out of town.

BRACK.:

And is Tesman not at home either?

HEDDA.:

[At the writing-table, putting the pistol-case in a drawer which sheshuts.] No. He rushed off to his aunt's directly after lunch; he

didn't expect you so early.

BRACK.:

H'm—how stupid of me not to have thought of that!

HEDDA.:

[Turning her head to look at him.] Why stupid?

BRACK.:

Because if I had thought of it I should have come a little—earlier.

HEDDA.:

[Crossing the room.] Then you would have found no one to receive you;

for I have been in my room changing my dress ever since lunch.

BRACK.:

And is there no sort of little chink that we could hold a parley

through?

HEDDA.:

You have forgotten to arrange one.:

BRACK.:

That was another piece of stupidity.:

HEDDA.:

Well, we must just settle down here—and wait. Tesman is not likely

to be back for some time yet.

BRACK.:

Never mind; I shall not be impatient.

HEDDA seats herself in the corner of the sofa. BRACK lays his

overcoat over the back of the nearest chair, and sits down, but

keeps his hat in his hand. A short silence. They look at each

other.

HEDDA.:

Well?

BRACK.:

[In the same tone.] Well?

HEDDA.:

I spoke first.:

BRACK.:

[Bending a little forward.] Come, let us have a cosy little chat,

Mrs. Hedda.(8)

HEDDA.:

[Leaning further back in the sofa.] Does it not seem like a whole

eternity since our last talk? Of course I don't count those few

words yesterday evening and this morning.

BRACK.:

You mean since out last confidential talk? Our last _tete-a-tete_?

HEDDA.:

Well yes—since you put it so.

BRACK.:

Not a day passed but I have wished that you were home again.:

HEDDA.:

And I have done nothing but wish the same thing.:

BRACK.:

You? Really, Mrs. Hedda? And I thought you had been enjoying your

tour so much!

HEDDA.:

Oh yes, you may be sure of that!

BRACK.:

But Tesman's letters spoke of nothing but happiness.

HEDDA.:

Oh, Tesman! You see, he thinks nothing is so delightful as grubbing

in libraries and making copies of old parchments, or whatever you

call them.

BRACK.:

[With a smile of malice.] Well, that is his vocation in life—or

part of it at any rate.

HEDDA.:

Yes, of course; and no doubt when it's your vocation—-. But _I_!

Oh, my dear Mr. Brack, how mortally bored I have been.

BRACK.:

[Sympathetically.] Do you really say so? In downright earnest?

HEDDA.:

Yes, you can surely understand it—-! To go for six whole months

without meeting a soul that knew anything of our circle, or could

talk about things we were interested in.

BRACK.:

Yes, yes—I too should feel that a deprivation.

HEDDA.:

And then, what I found most intolerable of all—-

BRACK.:

Well?

HEDDA.:

—-was being everlastingly in the company of—one and the same person—

BRACK.:

[With a nod of assent.] Morning, noon, and night, yes—at all possible

times and seasons.

HEDDA.:

I said "everlastingly."

BRACK.:

Just so. But I should have thought, with our excellent Tesman, one

could—-

HEDDA.:

Tesman is—a specialist, my dear Judge.

BRACK.:

Undeniable.:

HEDDA.:

And specialists are not at all amusing to travel with. Not in the

long run at any rate.

BRACK.:

Not even—the specialist one happens to love?

HEDDA.:

Faugh—don't use that sickening word!

BRACK.:

[Taken aback.] What do you say, Mrs. Hedda?

HEDDA.:

[Half laughing, half irritated.] You should just try it! To hear of

nothing but the history of civilisation, morning, noon, and night—-

BRACK.:

Everlastingly.:

HEDDA.:

Yes yes yes! And then all this about the domestic industry of the

middle ages—-! That's the most disgusting part of it!

BRACK.:

[Looks searchingly at her.] But tell me—in that case, how am I to

understand your—-? H'm—-

HEDDA.:

My accepting George Tesman, you mean?

BRACK.:

Well, let us put it so.

HEDDA.:

Good heavens, do you see anything so wonderful in that?

BRACK.:

Yes and no—Mrs. Hedda.

HEDDA.:

I had positively danced myself tired, my dear Judge. My day was done

—-[With a slight shudder.]Oh no—I won't say that; nor think it

either!

BRACK.:

You have assuredly no reason to.:

HEDDA.:

Oh, reasons—-[Watching him closely.]And George Tesman—after all,

you must admit that he is correctness itself.

BRACK.:

His correctness and respectability are beyond all question.:

HEDDA.:

And I don't see anything absolutely ridiculous about him.—Do you?

BRACK.:

Ridiculous? N—no—I shouldn't exactly say so—-

HEDDA.:

Well—and his powers of research, at all events, are untiring.—I see

no reason why he should not one day come to the front, after all.

BRACK.:

[Looks at her hesitatingly.] I thought that you, like every one else,

expected him to attain the highest distinction.

HEDDA.:

[With an expression of fatigue.] Yes, so I did.—And then, since he

was bent, at all hazards, on being allowed to provide for me—I really

don't know why I should not have accepted his offer?

BRACK.:

No—if you look at it in that light—-

HEDDA.:

It was more than my other adorers were prepared to do for me, my dear

Judge.

BRACK.:

[Laughing.] Well, I can't answer for all the rest; but as for

myself, you know quite well that I have always entertained a—a

certain respect for the marriage tie—for marriage as an institution,

Mrs. Hedda.

HEDDA.:

[Jestingly.] Oh, I assure you I have never cherished any hopes with

respect to you.

BRACK.:

All I require is a pleasant and intimate interior, where I can make

myself useful in every way, and am free to come and go as—as a

trusted friend—-

HEDDA.:

Of the master of the house, do you mean?

BRACK.:

[Bowing.] Frankly—of the mistress first of all; but of course of

the master too, in the second place. Such a triangular friendship—

if I may call it so—is really a great convenience for all the

parties, let me tell you.

HEDDA.:

Yes, I have many a time longed for some one to make a third on our

travels. Oh—those railway-carriage _tete-a-tetes_—-!

BRACK.:

Fortunately your wedding journey is over now.:

HEDDA.:

[Shaking her head.] Not by a long—long way. I have only arrived at

a station on the line.

BRACK.:

Well, then the passengers jump out and move about a little, Mrs. Hedda.

HEDDA.:

I never jump out.:

BRACK.:

Really?

HEDDA.:

No—because there is always some one standing by to—-

BRACK.:

[Laughing.] To look at your ankles, do you mean?

HEDDA.:

Precisely.:

BRACK.:

Well but, dear me—-

HEDDA.:

[With a gesture of repulsion.] I won't have it. I would rather keep

my seat where I happen to be—and continue the _tete-a-tete_.

BRACK.:

But suppose a third person were to jump in and join the couple.:

HEDDA.:

Ah—that is quite another matter!

BRACK.:

A trusted, sympathetic friend—-

HEDDA.:

—-with a fund of conversation on all sorts of lively topics—-

BRACK.:

—-and not the least bit of a specialist!

HEDDA.:

[With an audible sigh.] Yes, that would be a relief indeed.

BRACK.:

[Hears the front door open, and glances in that direction.] The

triangle is completed.

HEDDA.:

[Half aloud.] And on goes the train.

GEORGE TESMAN, in a grey walking-suit, with a soft felt hat,

enters from the hall. He has a number of unbound books under

his arm and in his pockets.

TESMAN.:

[Goes up to the table beside the corner settee.] Ouf—what a load

for a warm day—all these books.[Lays them on the table.]I'm

positively perspiring, Hedda. Hallo—are you there already, my dear

Judge? Eh? Berta didn't tell me.

BRACK.:

[Rising.] I came in through the garden.

HEDDA.:

What books have you got there?

TESMAN.:

[Stands looking them through.] Some new books on my special subjects

—quite indispensable to me.

HEDDA.:

Your special subjects?

BRACK.:

Yes, books on his special subjects, Mrs. Tesman.

[BRACK and HEDDA exchange a confidential smile.

HEDDA.:

Do you need still more books on your special subjects?

TESMAN.:

Yes, my dear Hedda, one can never have too many of them. Of course

one must keep up with all that is written and published.

HEDDA.:

Yes, I suppose one must.

TESMAN.:

[Searching among his books.] And look here—I have got hold of Eilert

Lovborg's new book too.[Offering it to her.]Perhaps you would like

to glance through it, Hedda? Eh?

HEDDA.:

No, thank you. Or rather—afterwards perhaps.

TESMAN.:

I looked into it a little on the way home.:

BRACK.:

Well, what do you think of it—as a specialist?

TESMAN.:

I think it shows quite remarkable soundness of judgment. He never

wrote like that before.[Putting the books together.]Now I shall

take all these into my study. I'm longing to cut the leaves—-!

And then I must change my clothes.[To BRACK.]I suppose we needn't

start just yet? Eh?

BRACK.:

Oh, dear no—there is not the slightest hurry.

TESMAN.:

Well then, I will take my time.[Is going with his books, but stopsin the doorway and turns.]By-the-bye, Hedda—Aunt Julia is not

coming this evening.

HEDDA.:

Not coming? Is it that affair of the bonnet that keeps her away?

TESMAN.:

Oh, not at all. How could you think such a thing of Aunt Julia?

Just fancy—-! The fact is, Aunt Rina is very ill.

HEDDA.:

She always is.:

TESMAN.:

Yes, but to-day she is much worse than usual, poor dear.

HEDDA.:

Oh, then it's only natural that her sister should remain with her.

I must bear my disappointment.

TESMAN.:

And you can't imagine, dear, how delighted Aunt Julia seemed to be—

because you had come home looking so flourishing!

HEDDA.:

[Half aloud, rising.] Oh, those everlasting Aunts!

TESMAN.:

What?

HEDDA.:

[Going to the glass door.] Nothing.

TESMAN.:

Oh, all right. [He goes through the inner room, out to the right.

BRACK.:

What bonnet were you talking about?

HEDDA.:

Oh, it was a little episode with Miss Tesman this morning. She had

laid down her bonnet on the chair there—[Looks at him and smiles.]—

and I pretended to think it was the servant's.

BRACK.:

[Shaking his head.] Now my dear Mrs. Hedda, how could you do such a

thing? To the excellent old lady, too!

HEDDA.:

[Nervously crossing the room.] Well, you see—these impulses come

over me all of a sudden; and I cannot resist them.[Throws herselfdown in the easy-chair by the stove.]Oh, I don't know how to

explain it.

BRACK.:

[Behind the easy-chair.] You are not really happy—that is at the

bottom of it.

HEDDA.:

[Looking straight before her.] I know of no reason why I should be—

happy. Perhaps you can give me one?

BRACK.:

Well-amongst other things, because you have got exactly the home you

had set your heart on.

HEDDA.:

[Looks up at him and laughs.] Do you too believe in that legend?

BRACK.:

Is there nothing in it, then?

HEDDA.:

Oh yes, there is something in it.

BRACK.:

Well?

HEDDA.:

There is this in it, that I made use of Tesman to see me home from

evening parties last summer—-

BRACK.:

I, unfortunately, had to go quite a different way.

HEDDA.:

That's true. I know you were going a different way last summer.

BRACK.:

[Laughing.] Oh fie, Mrs. Hedda! Well, then—you and Tesman—-?

HEDDA.:

Well, we happened to pass here one evening; Tesman, poor fellow, was

writhing in the agony of having to find conversation; so I took pity

on the learned man—-

BRACK.:

[Smiles doubtfully.] You took pity? H'm—-

HEDDA.:

Yes, I really did. And so—to help him out of his torment—I happened

to say, in pure thoughtlessness, that I should like to live in this

villa.

BRACK.:

No more than that?

HEDDA.:

Not that evening.:

BRACK.:

But afterwards?

HEDDA.:

Yes, my thoughtlessness had consequences, my dear Judge.

BRACK.:

Unfortunately that too often happens, Mrs. Hedda.

HEDDA.:

Thanks! So you see it was this enthusiasm for Secretary Falk's villa

that first constituted a bond of sympathy between George Tesman and

me. From that came our engagement and our marriage, and our wedding

journey, and all the rest of it. Well, well, my dear Judge—as you

make your bed so you must lie, I could almost say.

BRACK.:

This is exquisite! And you really cared not a rap about it all the

time?

HEDDA.:

No, heaven knows I didn't.

BRACK.:

But now? Now that we have made it so homelike for you?

HEDDA.:

Uh—the rooms all seem to smell of lavender and dried rose-leaves.—

But perhaps it's Aunt Julia that has brought that scent with her.

BRACK.:

[Laughing.] No, I think it must be a legacy from the late Mrs.

Secretary Falk.

HEDDA.:

Yes, there is an odour of mortality about it. It reminds me of a

bouquet—the day after the ball.[Clasps her hands behind her head,leans back in her chair and looks at him.]Oh, my dear Judge—you

cannot imagine how horribly I shall bore myself here.

BRACK.:

Why should not you, too, find some sort of vocation in life, Mrs.

Hedda?

HEDDA.:

A vocation—that should attract me?

BRACK.:

If possible, of course.

HEDDA.:

Heaven knows what sort of a vocation that could be. I often wonder

whether—-[Breaking off.]But that would never do either.

BRACK.:

Who can tell? Let me hear what it is.

HEDDA.:

Whether I might not get Tesman to go into politics, I mean.

BRACK.:

[Laughing.] Tesman? No really now, political life is not the thing

for him—not at all in his line.

HEDDA.:

No, I daresay not.—But if I could get him into it all the same?

BRACK.:

Why—what satisfaction could you find in that? If he is not fitted

for that sort of thing, why should you want to drive him into it?

HEDDA.:

Because I am bored, I tell you![After a pause.]So you think it

quite out of the question that Tesman should ever get into the

ministry?

BRACK.:

H'm—you see, my dear Mrs. Hedda—to get into the ministry, he would

have to be a tolerably rich man.

HEDDA.:

[Rising impatiently.] Yes, there we have it! It is this genteel

poverty I have managed to drop into—-![Crosses the room.]That is

what makes life so pitiable! So utterly ludicrous!—For that's what

it is.

BRACK.:

Now _I_ should say the fault lay elsewhere.:

HEDDA.:

Where, then?

BRACK.:

You have never gone through any really stimulating experience.:

HEDDA.:

Anything serious, you mean?

BRACK.:

Yes, you may call it so. But now you may perhaps have one in store.

HEDDA.:

[Tossing her head.] Oh, you're thinking of the annoyances about this

wretched professorship! But that must be Tesman's own affair. I

assure you I shall not waste a thought upon it.

BRACK.:

No, no, I daresay not. But suppose now that what people call—in

elegant language—a solemn responsibility were to come upon you?

[Smiling.] A new responsibility, Mrs. Hedda?

HEDDA.:

[Angrily.] Be quiet! Nothing of that sort will ever happen!

BRACK.:

[Warily.] We will speak of this again a year hence—at the very

outside.

HEDDA.:

[Curtly.] I have no turn for anything of the sort, Judge Brack. No

responsibilities for me!

BRACK.:

Are you so unlike the generality of women as to have no turn for

duties which—-?

HEDDA.:

[Beside the glass door.] Oh, be quiet, I tell you!—I often think

there is only one thing in the world I have any turn for.

BRACK.:

[Drawing near to her.] And what is that, if I may ask?

HEDDA.:

[Stands looking out.] Boring myself to death. Now you know it.

[Turns, looks towards the inner room, and laughs.] Yes, as I thought!

Here comes the Professor.

BRACK.:

[Softly, in a tone of warning.] Come, come, come, Mrs. Hedda!

GEORGE TESMAN, dressed for the party, with his gloves and hat

in his hand, enters from the right through the inner room.

TESMAN.:

Hedda, has no message come from Eilert Lovborg? Eh?

HEDDA.:

No.:

TESMAN.:

Then you'll see he'll be here presently.

BRACK.:

Do you really think he will come?

TESMAN.:

Yes, I am almost sure of it. For what you were telling us this

morning must have been a mere floating rumour.

BRACK.:

You think so?

TESMAN.:

At any rate, Aunt Julia said she did not believe for a moment that he

would ever stand in my way again. Fancy that!

BRACK.:

Well then, that's all right.

TESMAN.:

[Placing his hat and gloves on a chair on the right.] Yes, but you

must really let me wait for him as long as possible.

BRACK.:

We have plenty of time yet. None of my guests will arrive before

seven or half-past.

TESMAN.:

Then meanwhile we can keep Hedda company, and see what happens. Eh?

HEDDA.:

[Placing BRACK'S hat and overcoat upon the corner settee.] And at

the worst Mr. Lovborg can remain here with me.

BRACK.:

[Offering to take his things.] Oh, allow me, Mrs. Tesman!—What do

you mean by "At the worst"?

HEDDA.:

If he won't go with you and Tesman.

TESMAN.:

[Looks dubiously at her.] But, Hedda dear—do you think it would

quite do for him to remain here with you? Eh? Remember, Aunt Julia

can't come.

HEDDA.:

No, but Mrs. Elvsted is coming. We three can have a cup of tea

together.

TESMAN.:

Oh yes, that will be all right.

BRACK.:

[Smiling.] And that would perhaps be the safest plan for him.

HEDDA.:

Why so?

BRACK.:

Well, you know, Mrs. Tesman, how you used to gird at my little

bachelor parties. You declared they were adapted only for men

of the strictest principles.

HEDDA.:

But no doubt Mr. Lovborg's principles are strict enough now. A

converted sinner—- [BERTA appears at the hall door.

BERTA.:

There's a gentleman asking if you are at home, ma'am—-

HEDDA.:

Well, show him in.

TESMAN.:

[Softly.] I'm sure it is he! Fancy that!

EILERT LOVBORG enters from the hall. He is slim and lean;

of the same age as TESMAN, but looks older and somewhat

worn-out. His hair and beard are of a blackish brown, his

face long and pale, but with patches of colour on the cheeks.

He is dressed in a well-cut black visiting suit, quite new.

He has dark gloves and a silk hat. He stops near the door,

and makes a rapid bow, seeming somewhat embarrassed.

TESMAN.:

[Goes up to him and shakes him warmly by the hand.] Well, my dear

Eilert—so at last we meet again!

EILERT LOVBORG.:

[Speaks in a subdued voice.] Thanks for your letter, Tesman.

[Approaching HEDDA.] Will you too shake hands with me, Mrs. Tesman?

HEDDA.:

[Taking his hand.] I am glad to see you, Mr. Lovborg. [With amotion of her hand.] I don't know whether you two gentlemen—-?

LOVBORG.:

[Bowing slightly.] Judge Brack, I think.

BRACK.:

[Doing likewise.] Oh yes,—in the old days—-

TESMAN.:

[To LOVBORG, with his hands on his shoulders.] And now you must make

yourself entirely at home, Eilert! Mustn't he, Hedda?—For I hear you

are going to settle in town again? Eh?

LOVBORG.:

Yes, I am.

TESMAN.:

Quite right, quite right. Let me tell you, I have got hold of your

new book; but I haven't had time to read it yet.

LOVBORG.:

You may spare yourself the trouble.:

TESMAN.:

Why so?

LOVBORG.:

Because there is very little in it.:

TESMAN.:

Just fancy—how can you say so?

BRACK.:

But it has been very much praised, I hear.

LOVBORG.:

That was what I wanted; so I put nothing into the book but what every

one would agree with.

BRACK.:

Very wise of you.:

TESMAN.:

Well but, my dear Eilert—-!

LOVBORG.:

For now I mean to win myself a position again—to make a fresh start.

TESMAN.:

[A little embarrassed.] Ah, that is what you wish to do? Eh?

LOVBORG.:

[Smiling, lays down his hat, and draws a packet wrapped in paper,from his coat pocket.] But when this one appears, George Tesman, you

will have to read it. For this is the real book—the book I have put

my true self into.

TESMAN.:

Indeed? And what is it?

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