Act IV

The same rooms at the TESMANS'. It is evening. The drawing-

room is in darkness. The back room is light by the hanging

lamp over the table. The curtains over the glass door are

drawn close.

HEDDA, dressed in black, walks to and fro in the dark room.

Then she goes into the back room and disappears for a moment

to the left. She is heard to strike a few chords on the

piano. Presently she comes in sight again, and returns to

the drawing-room.

BERTA enters from the right, through the inner room, with a

lighted lamp, which she places on the table in front of the

corner settee in the drawing-room. Her eyes are red with

weeping, and she has black ribbons in her cap. She goes

quietly and circumspectly out to the right. HEDDA goes up

to the glass door, lifts the curtain a little aside, and

looks out into the darkness.

Shortly afterwards, MISS TESMAN, in mourning, with a bonnet

and veil on, comes in from the hall. HEDDA goes towards her

and holds out her hand.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, Hedda, here I am, in mourning and forlorn; for now my poor

sister has at last found peace.

HEDDA.:

I have heard the news already, as you see. Tesman sent me a card.

MISS TESMAN.:

Yes, he promised me he would. But nevertheless I thought that to

Hedda—here in the house of life—I ought myself to bring the tidings

of death.

HEDDA.:

That was very kind of you.:

MISS TESMAN.:

Ah, Rina ought not to have left us just now. This is not the time

for Hedda's house to be a house of mourning.

HEDDA.:

[Changing the subject.] She died quite peacefully, did she not, Miss

Tesman?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, her end was so calm, so beautiful. And then she had the

unspeakable happiness of seeing George once more—and bidding him

good-bye.—Has he not come home yet?

HEDDA.:

No. He wrote that he might be detained. But won't you sit down?

MISS TESMAN.:

No thank you, my dear, dear Hedda. I should like to, but I have so

much to do. I must prepare my dear one for her rest as well as I can.

She shall go to her grave looking her best.

HEDDA.:

Can I not help you in any way?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, you must not think of it! Hedda Tesman must have no hand in such

mournful work. Nor let her thought dwell on it either—not at this

time.

HEDDA.:

One is not always mistress of one's thoughts—-

MISS TESMAN.:

[Continuing.] Ah yes, it is the way of the world. At home we shall

be sewing a shroud; and here there will soon be sewing too, I suppose

—but of another sort, thank God!

GEORGE TESMAN enters by the hall door.:

HEDDA.:

Ah, you have come at last!

TESMAN.:

You here, Aunt Julia? With Hedda? Fancy that!

MISS TESMAN.:

I was just going, my dear boy. Well, have you done all you promised?

TESMAN.:

No; I'm really afraid I have forgotten half of it. I must come to you

again to-morrow. To-day my brain is all in a whirl. I can't keep my

thoughts together.

MISS TESMAN.:

Why, my dear George, you mustn't take it in this way.

TESMAN.:

Mustn't—-? How do you mean?

MISS TESMAN.:

Even in your sorrow you must rejoice, as I do—rejoice that she is at

rest.

TESMAN.:

Oh yes, yes—you are thinking of Aunt Rina.

HEDDA.:

You will feel lonely now, Miss Tesman.

MISS TESMAN.:

Just at first, yes. But that will not last very long, I hope. I

daresay I shall soon find an occupant for Rina's little room.

TESMAN.:

Indeed? Who do you think will take it? Eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, there's always some poor invalid or other in want of nursing,

unfortunately.

HEDDA.:

Would you really take such a burden upon you again?

MISS TESMAN.:

A burden! Heaven forgive you, child—it has been no burden to me.

HEDDA.:

But suppose you had a total stranger on your hands—-

MISS TESMAN.:

Oh, one soon makes friends with sick folk; and it's such an absolute

necessity for me to have some one to live for. Well, heaven be

praised, there may soon be something in this house, too, to keep an

old aunt busy.

HEDDA.:

Oh, don't trouble about anything here.

TESMAN.:

Yes, just fancy what a nice time we three might have together, if—-?

HEDDA.:

If—-?

TESMAN.:

[Uneasily.] Oh nothing. It will all come right. Let us hope so—eh?

MISS TESMAN.:

Well well, I daresay you two want to talk to each other.[Smiling.]

And perhaps Hedda may have something to tell you too, George. Good-

bye! I must go home to Rina.[Turning at the door.]How strange it

is to think that now Rina is with me and with my poor brother as well!

TESMAN.:

Yes, fancy that, Aunt Julia! Eh?

[MISS TESMAN goes out by the hall door.

HEDDA.:

[Follows TESMAN coldly and searchingly with her eyes.] I almost

believe your Aunt Rina's death affects you more than it does your

Aunt Julia.

TESMAN.:

Oh, it's not that alone. It's Eilert I am so terribly uneasy about.

HEDDA.:

[Quickly.] Is there anything new about him?

TESMAN.:

I looked in at his rooms this afternoon, intending to tell him the

manuscript was in safe keeping.

HEDDA.:

Well, did you find him?

TESMAN.:

No. He wasn't at home. But afterwards I met Mrs. Elvsted, and she

told me that he had been here early this morning.

HEDDA.:

Yes, directly after you had gone.

TESMAN.:

And he said that he had torn his manuscript to pieces—eh?

HEDDA.:

Yes, so he declared.

TESMAN.:

Why, good heavens, he must have been completely out of his mind! And

I suppose you thought it best not to give it back to him, Hedda?

HEDDA.:

No, he did not get it.

TESMAN.:

But of course you told him that we had it?

HEDDA.:

No.[Quickly.]Did you tell Mrs. Elvsted?

TESMAN.:

No; I thought I had better not. But you ought to have told him.

Fancy, if, in desperation, he should go and do himself some injury!

Let me have the manuscript, Hedda! I will take it to him at once.

Where is it?

HEDDA.:

[Cold and immovable, leaning on the arm-chair.] I have not got it.

TESMAN.:

Have not got it? What in the world do you mean?

HEDDA.:

I have burnt it—every line of it.

TESMAN.:

[With a violent movement of terror.] Burnt! Burnt Eilert's

manuscript!

HEDDA.:

Don't scream so. The servant might hear you.

TESMAN.:

Burnt! Why, good God—-! No, no, no! It's impossible!

HEDDA.:

It is so, nevertheless.

TESMAN.:

Do you know what you have done, Hedda? It's unlawful appropriation

of lost property. Fancy that! Just ask Judge Brack, and he'll tell

you what it is.

HEDDA.:

I advise you not to speak of it—either to Judge Brack or to anyone

else.

TESMAN.:

But how could you do anything so unheard-of? What put it into your

head? What possessed you? Answer me that—eh?

HEDDA.:

[Suppressing an almost imperceptible smile.] I did it for your sake,

George.

TESMAN.:

For my sake!

HEDDA.:

This morning, when you told me about what he had read to you—-

TESMAN.:

Yes yes—what then?

HEDDA.:

You acknowledged that you envied him his work.:

TESMAN.:

Oh, of course I didn't mean that literally.

HEDDA.:

No matter—I could not bear the idea that any one should throw you

into the shade.

TESMAN.:

[In an outburst of mingled doubt and joy.] Hedda! Oh, is this true?

But—but—I never knew you show your love like that before. Fancy

that!

HEDDA.:

Well, I may as well tell you that—just at this time—-[Impatientlybreaking off.]No, no; you can ask Aunt Julia. She well tell you,

fast enough.

TESMAN.:

Oh, I almost think I understand you, Hedda![Clasps his handstogether.]Great heavens! do you really mean it! Eh?

HEDDA.:

Don't shout so. The servant might hear.

TESMAN.:

[Laughing in irrepressible glee.] The servant! Why, how absurd you

are, Hedda. It's only my old Berta! Why, I'll tell Berta myself.

HEDDA.:

[Clenching her hands together in desperation.] Oh, it is killing me,

—it is killing me, all this!

TESMAN.:

What is, Hedda? Eh?

HEDDA.:

[Coldly, controlling herself.] All this—absurdity—George.

TESMAN.:

Absurdity! Do you see anything absurd in my being overjoyed at the

news! But after all—perhaps I had better not say anything to Berta.

HEDDA.:

Oh—-why not that too?

TESMAN.:

No, no, not yet! But I must certainly tell Aunt Julia. And then

that you have begun to call me George too! Fancy that! Oh, Aunt

Julia will be so happy—so happy!

HEDDA.:

When she hears that I have burnt Eilert Lovborg's manuscript—for

your sake?

TESMAN.:

No, by-the-bye—that affair of the manuscript—of course nobody must

know about that. But that you love me so much,(13) Hedda—Aunt Julia

must really share my joy in that! I wonder, now, whether this sort

of thing is usual in young wives? Eh?

HEDDA.:

I think you had better ask Aunt Julia that question too.:

TESMAN.:

I will indeed, some time or other.[Looks uneasy and downcast again.]

And yet the manuscript—the manuscript! Good God! it is terrible to

think what will become of poor Eilert now.

MRS. ELVSTED, dressed as in the first Act, with hat and cloak,

enters by the hall door.

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Greets them hurriedly, and says in evident agitation.] Oh, dear

Hedda, forgive my coming again.

HEDDA.:

What is the matter with you, Thea?

TESMAN.:

Something about Eilert Lovborg again—eh?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes! I am dreadfully afraid some misfortune has happened to him.

HEDDA.:

[Seized her arm.] Ah,—do you think so?

TESMAN.:

Why, good Lord—what makes you think that, Mrs. Elvsted?

MRS. ELVSTED.

I heard them talking of him at my boarding-house—just as I came in.

Oh, the most incredible rumours are afloat about him to-day.

TESMAN.:

Yes, fancy, so I heard too! And I can bear witness that he went

straight home to bed last night. Fancy that!

HEDDA.:

Well, what did they say at the boarding-house?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, I couldn't make out anything clearly. Either they knew nothing

definite, or else—-. They stopped talking when the saw me; and I

did not dare to ask.

TESMAN.:

[Moving about uneasily.] We must hope—we must hope that you

misunderstood them, Mrs. Elvsted.

MRS. ELVSTED.

No, no; I am sure it was of him they were talking. And I heard

something about the hospital or—-

TESMAN.:

The hospital?

HEDDA.:

No—surely that cannot be!

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, I was in such mortal terror! I went to his lodgings and asked

for him there.

HEDDA.:

You could make up your mind to that, Thea!

MRS. ELVSTED.

What else could I do? I really could bear the suspense no longer.

TESMAN.:

But you didn't find him either—eh?

MRS. ELVSTED.

No. And the people knew nothing about him. He hadn't been home

since yesterday afternoon, they said.

TESMAN.:

Yesterday! Fancy, how could they say that?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, I am sure something terrible must have happened to him.

TESMAN.:

Hedda dear—how would it be if I were to go and make inquiries—-?

HEDDA.:

No, no—don't you mix yourself up in this affair.

JUDGE BRACK, with his hat in his hand, enters by the hall

door, which BERTA opens, and closes behind him. He looks

grave and bows in silence.

TESMAN.:

Oh, is that you, my dear Judge? Eh?

BRACK.:

Yes. It was imperative I should see you this evening.

TESMAN.:

I can see you have heard the news about Aunt Rina?

BRACK.:

Yes, that among other things.

TESMAN.:

Isn't it sad—eh?

BRACK.:

Well, my dear Tesman, that depends on how you look at it.

TESMAN.:

[Looks doubtfully at him.] Has anything else happened?

BRACK.:

Yes.:

HEDDA.:

[In suspense.] Anything sad, Judge Brack?

BRACK.:

That, too, depends on how you look at it, Mrs. Tesman.

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Unable to restrain her anxiety.] Oh! it is something about Eilert

Lovborg!

BRACK.:

[With a glance at her.] What makes you think that, Madam? Perhaps

you have already heard something—-?

MRS. ELVSTED.

[In confusion.] No, nothing at all, but—-

TESMAN.:

Oh, for heaven's sake, tell us!

BRACK.:

[Shrugging his shoulders.] Well, I regret to say Eilert Lovborg has

been taken to the hospital. He is lying at the point of death.

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Shrieks.] Oh God! oh God—-!

TESMAN.:

To the hospital! And at the point of death!

HEDDA.:

[Involuntarily.] So soon then—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Wailing.] And we parted in anger, Hedda!

HEDDA.:

[Whispers.] Thea—Thea—be careful!

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Not heeding her.] I must go to him! I must see him alive!

BRACK.:

It is useless, Madam. No one will be admitted.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, at least tell me what has happened to him? What is it?

TESMAN.:

You don't mean to say that he has himself—- Eh?

HEDDA.:

Yes, I am sure he has.

BRACK.:

[Keeping his eyes fixed upon her.] Unfortunately you have guessed

quite correctly, Mrs. Tesman.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, how horrible!

TESMAN.:

Himself, then! Fancy that!

HEDDA.:

Shot himself!

BRACK.:

Rightly guessed again, Mrs. Tesman.

MRS. ELVSTED.

[With an effort at self-control.] When did it happen, Mr. Brack?

BRACK.:

This afternoon—between three and four.

TESMAN.:

But, good Lord, where did he do it? Eh?

BRACK.:

[With some hesitation.] Where? Well—I suppose at his lodgings.

MRS. ELVSTED.

No, that cannot be; for I was there between six and seven.

BRACK.:

Well then, somewhere else. I don't know exactly. I only know that

he was found—-. He had shot himself—in the breast.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, how terrible! That he should die like that!

HEDDA.:

[To BRACK.] Was it in the breast?

BRACK.:

Yes—as I told you.

HEDDA.:

Not in the temple?

BRACK.:

In the breast, Mrs. Tesman.

HEDDA.:

Well, well—the breast is a good place, too.

BRACK.:

How do you mean, Mrs. Tesman?

HEDDA.:

[Evasively.] Oh, nothing—nothing.

TESMAN.:

And the wound is dangerous, you say—eh?

BRACK.:

Absolutely mortal. The end has probably come by this time.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, yes, I feel it. The end! The end! Oh, Hedda—-!

TESMAN.:

But tell me, how have you learnt all this?

BRACK.:

[Curtly.] Through one of the police. A man I had some business with.

HEDDA.:

[In a clear voice.] At last a deed worth doing!

TESMAN.:

[Terrified.] Good heavens, Hedda! what are you saying?

HEDDA.:

I say there is beauty in this.:

BRACK.:

H'm, Mrs. Tesman—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, Hedda, how can you talk of beauty in such an act!

HEDDA.:

Eilert Lovborg has himself made up his account with life. He has had

the courage to do—the one right thing.

MRS. ELVSTED.

No, you must never think that was how it happened! It must have been

in delirium that he did it.

TESMAN.:

In despair!

HEDDA.:

That he did not. I am certain of that.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, yes! In delirium! Just as when he tore up our manuscript.

BRACK.:

[Starting.] The manuscript? Has he torn that up?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, last night.

TESMAN.:

[Whispers softly.] Oh, Hedda, we shall never get over this.

BRACK.:

H'm, very extraordinary.

TESMAN.:

[Moving about the room.] To think of Eilert going out of the world

in this way! And not leaving behind him the book that would have

immortalised his name—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, if only it could be put together again!

TESMAN.:

Yes, if it only could! I don't know what I would not give—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

Perhaps it can, Mr. Tesman.

TESMAN.:

What do you mean?

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Searches in the pocket of her dress.] Look here. I have kept all

the loose notes he used to dictate from.

HEDDA.:

[A step forward.] Ah—-!

TESMAN.:

You have kept them, Mrs. Elvsted! Eh?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, I have them here. I put them in my pocket when I left home.

Here they still are—-

TESMAN.:

Oh, do let me see them!

MRS. ELVSTED.

[Hands him a bundle of papers.] But they are in such disorder—all

mixed up.

TESMAN.:

Fancy, if we could make something out of them, after all! Perhaps if

we two put our heads together—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh yes, at least let us try—-

TESMAN.:

We will manage it! We must! I will dedicate my life to this task.

HEDDA.:

You, George? Your life?

TESMAN.:

Yes, or rather all the time I can spare. My own collections must

wait in the meantime. Hedda—you understand, eh? I owe this to

Eilert's memory.

HEDDA.:

Perhaps.:

TESMAN.:

And so, my dear Mrs. Elvsted, we will give our whole minds to it.

There is no use in brooding over what can't be undone—eh? We must

try to control our grief as much as possible, and—-

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can.

TESMAN.:

Well then, come here. I can't rest until we have looked through the

notes. Where shall we sit? Here? No, in there, in the back room.

Excuse me, my dear Judge. Come with me, Mrs. Elvsted.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, if only it were possible!

[TESMAN and MRS. ELVSTED go into the back room. She takes

off her hat and cloak. They both sit at the table under the

hanging lamp, and are soon deep in an eager examination of

the papers. HEDDA crosses to the stove and sits in the arm-

chair. Presently BRACK goes up to her.

HEDDA.:

[In a low voice.] Oh, what a sense of freedom it gives one, this act

of Eilert Lovborg's.

BRACK.:

Freedom, Mrs. Hedda? Well, of course, it is a release for him—-

HEDDA.:

I mean for me. It gives me a sense of freedom to know that a deed

of deliberate courage is still possible in this world,—a deed of

spontaneous beauty.

BRACK.:

[Smiling.] H'm—my dear Mrs. Hedda—-

HEDDA.:

Oh, I know what you are going to say. For you are a kind of

specialist too, like—you know!

BRACK.:

[Looking hard at her.] Eilert Lovborg was more to you than perhaps

you are willing to admit to yourself. Am I wrong?

HEDDA.:

I don't answer such questions. I only know that Eilert Lovborg has

had the courage to live his life after his own fashion. And then—

the last great act, with its beauty! Ah! that he should have the

will and the strength to turn away from the banquet of life—so early.

BRACK.:

I am sorry, Mrs. Hedda,—but I fear I must dispel an amiable illusion.

HEDDA.:

Illusion?

BRACK.:

Which could not have lasted long in any case.:

HEDDA.:

What do you mean?

BRACK.:

Eilert Lovborg did not shoot himself—voluntarily.

HEDDA.:

Not voluntarily?

BRACK.:

No. The thing did not happen exactly as I told it.

HEDDA.:

[In suspense.] Have you concealed something? What is it?

BRACK.:

For poor Mrs. Elvsted's sake I idealised the facts a little.

HEDDA.:

What are the facts?

BRACK.:

First, that he is already dead.

HEDDA.:

At the hospital?

BRACK.:

Yes—without regaining consciousness.

HEDDA.:

What more have you concealed?

BRACK.:

This—the event did not happen at his lodgings.

HEDDA.:

Oh, that can make no difference.

BRACK.:

Perhaps it may. For I must tell you—Eilert Lovborg was found shot

in—in Mademoiselle Diana's boudoir.

HEDDA.:

[Makes a motion as if to rise, but sinks back again.] That is

impossible, Judge Brack! He cannot have been there again to-day.

BRACK.:

He was there this afternoon. He went there, he said, to demand the

return of something which they had taken from him. Talked wildly

about a lost child—-

HEDDA.:

Ah—so that is why—-

BRACK.:

I thought probably he meant his manuscript; but now I hear he

destroyed that himself. So I suppose it must have been his pocket-

book.

HEDDA.:

Yes, no doubt. And there—there he was found?

BRACK.:

Yes, there. With a pistol in his breast-pocket, discharged. The

ball had lodged in a vital part.

HEDDA.:

In the breast—yes?

BRACK.:

No—in the bowels.

HEDDA.:

[Looks up at him with an expression of loathing.] That too! Oh,

what curse is it that makes everything I touch turn ludicrous and

mean?

BRACK.:

There is one point more, Mrs. Hedda—another disagreeable feature in

the affair.

HEDDA.:

And what is that?

BRACK.:

The pistol he carried—-

HEDDA.:

[Breathless.] Well? What of it?

BRACK.:

He must have stolen it.:

HEDDA.:

[Leaps up.] Stolen it! That is not true! He did not steal it!

BRACK.:

No other explanation is possible. He must have stolen it—-. Hush!

TESMAN and MRS. ELVSTED have risen from the table in the back-

room, and come into the drawing-room.

TESMAN.:

[With the papers in both his hands.] Hedda, dear, it is almost

impossible to see under that lamp. Think of that!

HEDDA.:

Yes, I am thinking.

TESMAN.:

Would you mind our sitting at you writing-table—eh?

HEDDA.:

If you like.[Quickly.]No, wait! Let me clear it first!

TESMAN.:

Oh, you needn't trouble, Hedda. There is plenty of room.

HEDDA.:

No no, let me clear it, I say! I will take these things in and put