PETTERSEN [Goes towards him.]

  Good Lord—what do you want here?

  EKDAL [In the doorway.]

  Must get into the office, Pettersen.

  PETTERSEN

  The office was closed an hour ago, and——

  EKDAL

  So they told me at the front door. But Gråberg’s in there still.

  Let me slip in this way, Pettersen; there’s a good fellow.

  [Points towards the baize door.]

  It’s not the first time I’ve come this way.

  PETTERSEN

  Well, you may pass.

  [Opens the door.]

  But mind you go out again the proper way, for we’ve got

  company.

  EKDAL

  I know, I know—h’m! Thanks, Pettersen, good old friend!

  Thanks!

  [Mutters softly.]

  Ass!

  [He goes into the office; PETTERSON shuts the door after him.]

  JENSEN

  Is he one of the office people?

  PETTERSEN

  No, he’s only an outside hand that does odd jobs of copying. But he’s been a tip-topper in his day, has old Ekdal.

  JENSEN

  You can see he’s been through a lot.

  PETTERSEN

  Yes; he was an army officer, you know.

  JENSEN

  You don’t say so?

  PETTERSEN

  No mistake about it. But then he went into the timber trade or something of the sort. They say he once played Mr. Werle a very nasty trick. They were partners in the Höidal works at the time. Oh, I know old Ekdal well, I do. Many a nip of bitters and bottle of ale we two have drunk at Madam Eriksen’s.

  JENSEN

  He don’t look as if he’d much to stand treat with.

  PETTERSEN

  Why, bless you, Jensen, it’s me that stands treat. I always think there’s no harm in being a bit civil to folks that have seen better days.

  JENSEN

  Did he go bankrupt then?

  PETTERSEN

  Worse than that. He went to prison.

  JENSEN

  To prison!

  PETTERSEN

  Or perhaps it was the Penitentiary.

  [Listens.]

  Sh! They’re leaving the table.

  The dining-room door is thrown open from within, by a couple of waiters. MRS. SÖRBY comes out conversing with two gentlemen. Gradually the whole company follows, amongst them WERLE. Last come HIALMAR EKDAL and GREGERS WERLE.

  MRS. SÖRBY [In passing, to the servant.]

  Tell them to serve the coffee in the music-room, Pettersen.

  PETTERSEN

  Very well, Madam.

  [She goes with the two Gentlemen, into the inner room, and thence out to

  the right. PETTERSEN and JENSEN go out the same way.]

  A FLABBY GENTLEMAN [To a THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN.]

  Whew! What a dinner!—It was no joke to do it justice!

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN

  Oh, with a little good-will one can get through a lot in three hours.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Yes, but afterwards, afterwards, my dear Chamberlain!

  A THIRD GENTLEMAN

  I hear the coffee and maraschino135 are to be served in the music-room.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Bravo! Then perhaps Mrs. Sörby will play us something.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN [In a low voice.]

  I hope Mrs. Sörby mayn’t play us a tune we don’t like, one of these days!

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Oh no, not she! Bertha will never turn against her old friends. [They laugh and pass into the inner room.]

  WERLE [In a low voice, dejectedly.]

  I don’t think anybody noticed it, Gregers.

  GREGERS [Looks at him.]

  Noticed what?

  WERLE

  Did you not notice it either?

  GREGERS

  What do you mean?

  WERLE

  We were thirteen at table.

  GREGERS

  Indeed? Were there thirteen of us?

  WERLE [Glances towards HIALMAR EKDAL.]

  Our usual party is twelve.

  [To the others.]

  This way, gentlemen!

  [WERLE and the others, all except HIALMAR and GREGERS, go out

  by the back, to the right.]

  HIALMAR [Who has overheard the conversation.]

  You ought not to have invited me, Gregers.

  GREGERS

  What! Not ask my best and only friend to a party supposed to be in my honour——?

  HIALMAR

  But I don’t think your father likes it. You see I am quite outside his circle.

  GREGERS

  So I hear. But I wanted to see you and have a talk with you, and I certainly shan’t be staying long.—Ah, we two old schoolfellows have drifted far apart from each other. It must be sixteen or seventeen years since we met.

  HIALMAR

  Is it so long?

  GREGERS

  It is indeed. Well, how goes it with you? You look well. You have put on flesh, and grown almost stout.

  HIALMAR

  Well, “stout” is scarcely the word; but I daresay I look a little more of a man than I used to.

  GREGERS

  Yes, you do; your outer man is in first-rate condition.

  HIALMAR [In a tone of gloom.]

  Ah, but the inner man! That is a very different matter, I can tell you! Of course you know of the terrible catastrophe that has befallen me and mine since last we met.

  GREGERS [More softly.]

  How are things going with your father now?

  HIALMAR

  Don’t let us talk of it, old fellow. Of course my poor unhappy father lives with me. He hasn’t another soul in the world to care for him. But you can understand that this is a miserable subject for me.—Tell me, rather, how you have been getting on up at the works.

  GREGERS

  I have had a delightfully lonely time of it—plenty of leisure to think and think about things. Come over here; we may as well make ourselves comfortable. [He seats himself in an arm-chair by the fire and draws HIALMAR down into another alongside of it.]

  HIALMAR [Sentimentally.]

  After all, Gregers, I thank you for inviting me to your father’s table; for I take it as a sign that you have got over your feeling against me.

  GREGERS [Surprised.]

  How could you imagine I had any feeling against you?

  HIALMAR

  You had at first, you know.

  GREGERS

  How at first?

  HIALMAR

  After the great misfortune. It was natural enough that you should. Your father was within an ace of being drawn into that—well, that terrible business.

  GREGERS

  Why should that give me any feeling against you? Who can have put that into your head?

  HIALMAR

  I know it did, Gregers; your father told me so himself.

  GREGERS [Starts.]

  My father! Oh indeed. H’m.—Was that why you never let me hear from you?—not a single word.

  HIALMAR

  Yes.

  GREGERS

  Not even when you made up your mind to become a photographer?

  HIALMAR

  Your father said I had better not write to you at all, about anything.

  GREGERS [Looking straight before him.]

  Well well, perhaps he was right.—But tell me now, Hialmar: are you pretty well satisfied with your present position?

  HIALMAR [With a little sigh.]

  Oh yes, I am; I have really no cause to complain. At first, as you may guess, I felt it a little strange. It was such a totally new state of things for me. But of course my whole circumstances were totally changed. Father’s utter, irretrievable ruin,—the shame and disgrace of it, Gregers——

  GREGERS [Affected.]

  Yes, yes; I understand.

  HIALMAR

  I couldn’t think of remaining at college; there wasn’t a shilling to spare; on the contrary, there were debts—mainly to your father I believe——

  GREGERS

  H’m——

  HIALMAR

  In short, I thought it best to break, once for all, with my old surroundings and associations. It was your father that specially urged me to it; and since he interested himself so much in me——

  GREGERS

  My father did?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, you surely knew that, didn’t you? Where do you suppose I found the money to learn photography, and to furnish a studio and make a start? All that costs a pretty penny, I can tell you.

  GREGERS

  And my father provided the money?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, my dear fellow, didn’t you know? I understood him to say he had written to you about it.

  GREGERS

  Not a word about his part in the business. He must have forgotten it. Our correspondence has always been purely a business one. So it was my father that——!

  HIALMAR

  Yes, certainly. He didn’t wish it to be generally known; but he it was. And of course it was he, too, that put me in a position to marry. Don’t you—don’t you know about that either?

  GREGERS

  No, I haven’t heard a word of it.

  [Shakes him by the arm.]

  But, my dear Hialmar, I can’t tell you what pleasure all this gives

  me—pleasure, and self-reproach. I have perhaps done my father

  injustice after all—in some things. This proves that he has a

  heart. It shows a sort of compunction——

  HIALMAR

  Compunction——?

  GREGERS

  Yes, yes—whatever you like to call it. Oh, I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear this of father.—So you are a married man, Hialmar! That is further than I shall ever get. Well, I hope you are happy in your married life?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, thoroughly happy. She is as good and capable a wife as any man could wish for. And she is by no means without culture.

  GREGERS [Rather surprised.]

  No, of course not.

  HIALMAR

  You see, life is itself an education. Her daily intercourse with me——And then we know one or two rather remarkable men, who come a good deal about us. I assure you, you would hardly know Gina again.

  GREGERS

  Gina?

  HIALMAR

  Yes; had you forgotten that her name was Gina?

  GREGERS

  Whose name? I haven’t the slightest idea——

  HIALMAR

  Don’t you remember that she used to be in service here?

  GREGERS [Looks at him.]

  Is it Gina Hansen——?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, of course it is Gina Hansen.

  GREGERS

  ——who kept house for us during the last year of my mother’s illness?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, exactly. But, my dear friend, I’m quite sure your father told you that I was married.

  GREGERS [Who has risen.]

  Oh yes, he mentioned it; but not that——

  [Walking about the room.]

  Stay—perhaps he did—now that I think of it. My father always

  writes such short letters.

  [Half seats himself on the arm of the chair.]

  Now, tell me, Hialmar—this is interesting—how did you come

  to know Gina—your wife?

  HIALMAR

  The simplest thing in the world. You know Gina did not stay here long; everything was so much upset at that time, owing to your mother’s illness and so forth, that Gina was not equal to it all; so she gave notice and left. That was the year before your mother died—or it may have been the same year.

  GREGERS

  It was the same year. I was up at the works then. But afterwards——?

  HIALMAR

  Well, Gina lived at home with her mother, Madam Hansen, an excellent hard-working woman, who kept a little eating-house. She had a room to let too; a very nice comfortable room.

  GREGERS

  And I suppose you were lucky enough to secure it?

  HIALMAR

  Yes; in fact, it was your father that recommended it to me. So it was there, you see, that I really came to know Gina.

  GREGERS

  And then you got engaged?

  HIALMAR

  Yes. It doesn’t take young people long to fall in love——; h’m——

  GREGERS [Rises and moves about a little.]

  Tell me: was it after your engagement—was it then that my father—I mean was it then that you began to take up photography?

  HIALMAR

  Yes, precisely. I wanted to make a start, and to set up house as soon as possible; and your father and I agreed that this photography business was the readiest way. Gina thought so too. Oh, and there was another thing in its favour, by-the-bye: it happened, luckily, that Gina had learnt to retouch.

  GREGERS

  That chimed in marvellously.

  HIALMAR [Pleased, rises.]

  Yes, didn’t it? Don’t you think it was a marvellous piece of luck?

  GREGERS

  Oh, unquestionably. My father seems to have been almost a kind of providence for you.

  HIALMAR [With emotion.]

  He did not forsake his old friend’s son in the hour of his need. For he has a heart, you see.

  MRS. SÖRBY [Enters, arm-in-arm with WERLE.]

  Nonsense, my dear Mr. Werle; you mustn’t stop there any longer staring at all the lights. It’s very bad for you.

  WERLE [Lets go her arm and passes his hand over his eyes.]

  I daresay you are right. [PETTERSEN and JENSEN carry round refreshment trays.]

  MRS. SÖRBY [To the Guests in the other room.]

  This way, if you please, gentlemen. Whoever wants a glass of punch must be so good as to come in here.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN [Comes up to MRS. SÖRBY.]

  Surely, it isn’t possible that you have suspended our cherished right to smoke?

  MRS. SÖRBY

  Yes. No smoking here, in Mr. Werle’s sanctum, Chamberlain.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN

  When did you enact these stringent amendments on the cigar law, Mrs. Sörby?

  MRS. SÖRBY

  After the last dinner, Chamberlain, when certain persons permitted themselves to overstep the mark.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN

  And may one never overstep the mark a little bit, Madame Bertha? Not the least little bit?

  MRS. SÖRBY

  Not in any respect whatsoever, Mr. Balle. [Most of the Guests have assembled in the study; servants hand round glasses of punch.]

  WERLE [To HIALMAR, who is standing beside a table.]

  What are you studying so intently, Ekdal?

  HIALMAR

  Only an album, Mr. Werle.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN [Who is wandering about.]

  Ah, photographs! They are quite in your line of course.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN [In an arm-chair.]

  Haven’t you brought any of your own with you?

  HIALMAR

  No, I haven’t.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  You ought to have; it’s very good for the digestion to sit and look at pictures.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN

  And it contributes to the entertainment, you know.

  THE SHORT-SIGHTED GENTLEMAN

  And all contributions are thankfully received.

  MRS. SÖRBY

  The Chamberlains think that when one is invited out to dinner, one ought to exert oneself a little in return, Mr. Ekdal.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Where one dines so well, that duty becomes a pleasure.

  THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN

  And when it’s a case of the struggle for existence, you know——

  MRS. SÖRBY

  I quite agree with you! [They continue the conversation, with laughter and joking.]

  GREGERS [Softly.]

  You must join in, Hialmar.

  HIALMAR [Writhing.]

  What am I to talk about?

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Don’t you think, Mr. Werle, that Tokay may he considered one of the more wholesome sorts of wine?

  WERLE [By the fire.]

  I can answer for the Tokay you had to-day, at any rate; it’s of one of the very finest seasons. Of course you would notice that.

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN

  Yes, it had a remarkably delicate flavour.

  HIALMAR [Shyly.]

  Is there any difference between the seasons?

  THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN [Laughs.]

  Come! That’s good!