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 Lövborg’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 Lövborg 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 Lövborg 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 Lövborg 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 Lövborg 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 was 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 your 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

  them on the piano. There!

  [She has drawn out an object, covered with sheet music, from under the

  bookcase, places several other pieces of music upon it, and carries the whole

  into the inner room, to the left. TESMAN lays the scraps of paper on the

  writing-table, and moves the Iamp there from the corner table. He and

  MRS. ELVSTED sit down and proceed with their work. HEDDA re

  turns.]

  HEDDA [Behind MRS. ELVSTED’s chair, gently ruffling her hair.]

  Well, my sweet Thea,—how goes it with Eilert Lövborg’s monument?

  MRS. ELVSTED [Looks dispiritedly up at her.]

  Oh, it will be terribly hard to put in order.

  TESMAN

  We must manage it. I am determined. And arranging other peo

  ple’s papers is just the work for me.

  [HEDDA goes over to the stove, and seats herself on one of the footstools.

  BRACK stands over her, leaning on the arm-chair.]

  HEDDA [Whispers.]

  What did you say about the pistol?

  BRACK [Softly.]

  That he must have stolen it.

  HEDDA

  Why stolen it?

  BRACK

  Because every other explanation ought to be impossible, Mrs. Hedda.

  HEDDA

  Indeed?

  BRACK [Glances at her.]

  Of course Eilert Lövborg was here this morning. Was he not?

  HEDDA

  Yes.

  BRACK

  Were you alone with him?

  HEDDA

  Part of the time.

  BRACK

  Did you not leave the room whilst he was here?

  HEDDA

  No.

  BRACK

  Try to recollect. Were you not out of the room a moment?

  HEDDA

  Yes, perhaps just a moment—out in the hall.

  BRACK

  And where was your pistol-case during that time?

  HEDDA

  I had it locked up in——

  BRACK

  Well, Mrs. Hedda?

  HEDDA

  The case stood there on the writing-table.

  BRACK

  Have you looked since, to see whether both the pistols are there?

  HEDDA

  No.

  BRACK

  Well,you need not. I saw the pistol found in Lövborg’s pocket, and I knew it at once as the one I had seen yesterday—and before, too.

  HEDDA

  Have you it with you?

  BRACK

  No; the police have it.

  HEDDA

  What will the police do with it?

  BRACK

  Search till they find the owner.

  HEDDA

  Do you think they will succeed?

  BRACK [Bends over her and whispers.]

  No, Hedda Gabler—not so long as I say nothing.

  HEDDA [Looks frightened at him.]

  And if you do not say nothing,—what then?

  BRACK [Shrugs his shoulders.]

  There is always the possibility that the pistol was stolen.

  HEDDA [Firmly.]

  Death rather than that.

  BRACK [Smiling.]

  People say such things—but they don’t do them.

  HEDDA [Without replying.]

  And supposing the pistol was not stolen, and the owner is discovered? What then?

  BRACK

  Well, Hedda—then comes the scandal.

  HEDDA

  The scandal!

  BRACK

  Yes, the scandal—of which you are so mortally afraid. You will, of course, be brought before the court—both you and Mademoiselle Diana. She will have to explain how the thing happened—whether it was an accidental shot or murder. Did the pistol go off as he was trying to take it out of his pocket, to threaten her with? Or did she tear the pistol out of his hand, shoot him, and push it back into his pocket? That would be quite like her; for she is an able-bodied young person, this same Mademoiselle Diana.

  HEDDA

  But I have nothing to do with all this repulsive business.

  BRACK No. But you will have to answer the question: Why did you give Eilert Lövborg the pistol? And what conclusions will people draw from the fact that you did give it to him?

  HEDDA [Lets her head sink.]

  That is true. I did not think of that.

  BRACK

  Well, fortunately, there is no danger, so long as I say nothing.

  HEDDA [Looks up at him.]

  So I am in your power, Judge Brack. You have me at your beck and call, from this time forward.

  BRACK [Whispers softly.]

  Dearest Hedda—believe me—I shall not abuse my advantage.

  HEDDA

  I am in your power none the less. Subject to your will and your

  demands. A slave, a slave then!

  [Rises impetuously.]

  No, I cannot endure the thought of that! Never!

  BRACK [Looks half-mockingly at her.]

  People generally get used to the inevitable.

  HEDDA [Returns his look.]

  Yes, perhaps.

  [She crosses to the writing-table. Suppressing an involuntary smile, she im

  itates TESMAN’s intonations.]

  Well? Are you getting on, George? Eh?

  TESMAN

  Heaven knows, dear. In any case it will be the work of months.

  HEDDA [As before.]

  Fancy that! [Passes her hands softly through MRS. ELVSTED’s hair.] Doesn’t it seem strange to you, Thea? Here are you sitting with Tesman—just as you used to sit with Eilert Lövborg?

  MRS. ELVSTED

  Ah, if I could only inspire your husband in the same way!

  HEDDA

  Oh, that will come too—in time.

  TESMAN

  Yes, do you know, Hedda—I really think I begin to feel something of the sort. But won’t you go and sit with Brack again?

  HEDDA

  Is there nothing I can do to help you two?

  TESMAN

  No, nothing in the world.

  [Turning his head.]

  I trust to you to keep Hedda company, my dear Brack.

  BRACK [With a glance at HEDDA.]

  With the very greatest of pleasure.

  HEDDA

  Thanks. But I am tired this evening. I will go in and lie down a little on the sofa.

  TESMAN

  Yes, do dear—eh?

  [HEDDA goes into the back room and draws the curtains. A short pause.

  Suddenly she is heard playing a wild dance on the piano.]

  MRS. ELVSTED [Starts from her chair.]

  Oh—what is that?

  TESMAN [Runs to the doorway.]

  Why, my dearest Hedda—don’t play dance-music to-night! Just think of Aunt Rina! And of Eilert too!

  HEDDA [Puts her head out between the curtains.]

  And of Aunt Julia. And of all the rest of them.—After this, I will

  be quiet.

  [Closes the curtains again.]

  TESMAN [At the writing-table.]

  It’s not good for her to see us at this distressing work. I’ll tell you what, Mrs. Elvsted,—you shall take the empty room at Aunt Julia’s and then I will come over in the evenings, and we can sit and work there—eh?

  HEDDA [In the inner room.]

  I hear what you are saying, Tesman. But how am I to get through the evenings out here?

  TESMAN [Turning over the papers.]

  Oh, I daresay Judge Brack will be so kind as to look in now and then, even though I am out.

  BRACK [In the arm-chair, calls out gaily.]

  Every blessëd evening, with all the pleasure in life, Mrs. Tesman! We shall get on capitally together, we two!

  HEDDA [Speaking loud and clear.]

  Yes, don’t you flatter yourself we will, Judge Brack? Now that

  you are the one cock in the basket——

  [A shot is heard within. TESMAN, MRS. ELVSTED, and BRACK leap

  to their feet.]

  TESMAN

  Oh, now she is playing with those pistols again.

  [He throws back the curtains and runs in, followed by MRS. ELVSTED.

  HEDDA lies stretched on the sofa lifeless. Confusion and cries. BERTA

  enters in alarm from the right.]

  TESMAN [Shrieks to BRACK.]

  Shot herself! Shot herself in the temple! Fancy that!

  BRACK [Half-fainting in the arm-chair.]

  Good God!—people don’t do such things!

  THE MASTER BUILDER (1892)

  INTRODUCTION

  IN GHOSTS, THE LACK OF fire insurance exposed the destructive hypocrisy of a pastor, but in The Master Builder (1892; Bygmester Solness ) Ibsen realized that the theme of insurance provides a much more powerful tool for the genre most dear to his heart: the tragic double bind. Master Builder Solness owes his fame as a builder of homes to the fire that destroyed his own house and, indirectly, his children’s and their mother’s happiness. His whole life has been spent attempting to rebuild a home that would somehow compensate for this original loss. But no matter how much he tries, no matter how great his powers as a Master Builder, everything he does will be nothing but a shallow substitute. The fire made him Master Builder and at the same time marks the limits of his skill; it makes and unmakes him at the same time.

  It is difficult not to read Ibsen’s own biography into this obsession with the home, which appears in almost all of his plays and which receives here its culminating treatment. Ibsen had spent almost his entire career away from his native Norway and away from the village in which he was born and to which he returned only once. While he was constantly on the move across the continent, his plays incessantly reveal the bourgeois home to be built on deception and lies. It is as if his own lack of a real home made him perceptive of the cracks in those of others.

  The Master Builder was the first play he wrote after returning to Norway when he was in his early sixties—but this return did not prompt him to make peace with the idea of the home. On the contrary, it led to a play that traps the attempt to create a home in an impossible double bind of loss and compensation. Ibsen infuses this tragic plot with a Christian language of innocence and guilt. Even though the Master Builder did not cause the fire and therefore is, strictly speaking, innocent of its consequences, the fact that he owes everything he is to this fire means that he is also complicit and guilty. One might say that Ibsen sought to rethink Greek tragedy in the terms of original sin: The fire is Solness’s original sin, from which there is no escape.

  This tragic impossibility of (re)building a home, of undoing something like an original sin, collides with a second plot. On one of his first assignments, the Master Builder had met a child and promised to build her a castle in the air. Now a young woman, this independent and spontaneous siren turns up on the Solness doorstep to bring into the open the intractable rift in this bourgeois family. In particular, she makes Solness realize that he will never be able to rebuild his original home. Suddenly, harking back to the past is no longer the only task the Master Builder sees for himself. While he knows he must fail in rebuilding a home, he might succeed in erecting a castle in the air instead. And so he gives up on the home, substituting the tragic plot with a second one, for as he climbs up onto the newly erected tower he knows exactly what will happen: His one flaw, as the play calls it, will cause him to fall. To everyone this seems like a perfectly tragic ending, a heroic master builder undone by vertigo. But the young temptress and he know that what looks like failure to the others is really his flight into an entirely different place: the castle in the air.