In literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.Hedda Gabler by Henrik Ibsen (best summer reads of all time txt) đź“–
- Author: Henrik Ibsen
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Book online «Hedda Gabler by Henrik Ibsen (best summer reads of all time txt) 📖». Author Henrik Ibsen
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I hope he may.
HEDDA.
And then, you see—then he will have regained control over himself. Then he will be a free man for all his days.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh God!—if he would only come as you see him now!
HEDDA.
He will come as I see him—so, and not otherwise! [Rises and approaches THEA.] You may doubt him as long as you please; I believe in him. And now we will try—
MRS. ELVSTED.
You have some hidden motive in this, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Yes, I have. I want for once in my life to have power to mould a human destiny.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Have you not the power?
HEDDA.
I have not—and have never had it.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Not your husband's?
HEDDA.
Do you think that is worth the trouble? Oh, if you could only understand how poor I am. And fate has made you so rich! [Clasps her passionately in her arms.] I think I must burn your hair off after all.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Let me go! Let me go! I am afraid of you, Hedda!
BERTA.
[In the middle doorway.] Tea is laid in the dining-room, ma'am.
HEDDA.
Very well. We are coming
MRS. ELVSTED.
No, no, no! I would rather go home alone! At once!
HEDDA.
Nonsense! First you shall have a cup of tea, you little stupid. And then—at ten o'clock—Eilert Lovborg will be here—with vine-leaves in his hair.
ACT THIRD.
middle doorway, and also over the glass door. The lamp,
half turned down, and with a shade over it, is burning on
the table. In the stove, the door of which stands open,
there has been a fire, which is now nearly burnt out.
MRS. ELVSTED, wrapped in a large shawl, and with her feet
upon a foot-rest, sits close to the stove, sunk back in
the arm-chair. HEDDA, fully dressed, lies sleeping upon
the sofa, with a sofa-blanket over her.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[After a pause, suddenly sits up in her chair, and listens eagerly. Then she sinks back again wearily, moaning to herself.] Not yet!—Oh God—oh God—not yet!
her hand.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Turns and whispers eagerly.] Well—has any one come?
BERTA.
[Softly.] Yes, a girl has just brought this letter.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Quickly, holding out her hand.] A letter! Give it to me!
BERTA.
No, it's for Dr. Tesman, ma'am.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, indeed.
BERTA.
It was Miss Tesman's servant that brought it. I'll lay it here on the table.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, do.
BERTA.
[Laying down the letter.] I think I had better put out the lamp. It's smoking.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, put it out. It must soon be daylight now.
BERTA.
[Putting out the lamp.] It is daylight already, ma'am.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, broad day! And no one come back yet—!
BERTA.
Lord bless you, ma'am—I guessed how it would be.
MRS. ELVSTED.
You guessed?
BERTA.
Yes, when I saw that a certain person had come back to town—and that he went off with them. For we've heard enough about that gentleman before now.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Don't speak so loud. You will waken Mrs. Tesman.
BERTA.
[Looks towards the sofa and sighs.] No, no—let her sleep, poor thing. Shan't I put some wood on the fire?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Thanks, not for me.
BERTA.
Oh, very well. [She goes softly out by the hall door.
HEDDA.
[Is wakened by the shutting of the door, and looks up.] What's that—?
MRS. ELVSTED.
It was only the servant.
HEDDA.
[Looking about her.] Oh, we're here—! Yes, now I remember. [Sits erect upon the sofa, stretches herself, and rubs her eyes.] What o'clock is it, Thea?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Looks at her watch.] It's past seven.
HEDDA.
When did Tesman come home?
MRS. ELVSTED.
He has not come.
HEDDA.
Not come home yet?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Rising.] No one has come.
HEDDA.
Think of our watching and waiting here till four in the morning—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Wringing her hands.] And how I watched and waited for him!
HEDDA.
[Yawns, and says with her hand before her mouth.] Well well—we might have spared ourselves the trouble.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Did you get a little sleep?
HEDDA.
Oh yes; I believe I have slept pretty well. Have you not?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Not for a moment. I couldn't, Hedda!—not to save my life.
HEDDA.
[Rises and goes towards her.] There there there! There's nothing to be so alarmed about. I understand quite well what has happened.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Well, what do you think? Won't you tell me?
HEDDA.
Why, of course it has been a very late affair at Judge Brack's—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes—that is clear enough. But all the same—
HEDDA.
And then, you see, Tesman hasn't cared to come home and ring us up in the middle of the night. [Laughing.] Perhaps he wasn't inclined to show himself either—immediately after a jollification.
MRS. ELVSTED.
But in that case—where can he have gone?
HEDDA.
Of course he has gone to his Aunts' and slept there. They have his old room ready for him.
MRS. ELVSTED.
No, he can't be with them for a letter has just come for him from Miss Tesman. There it lies.
HEDDA.
Indeed? [Looks at the address.] Why yes, it's addressed in Aunt Julia's hand. Well then, he has remained at Judge Brack's. And as for Eilert Lovborg—he is sitting, with vine-leaves in his hair, reading his manuscript.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, Hedda, you are just saying things you don't believe a bit.
HEDDA.
You really are a little blockhead, Thea.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh yes, I suppose I am.
HEDDA.
And how mortally tired you look.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, I am mortally tired.
HEDDA.
Well then, you must do as I tell you. You must go into my room and lie down for a little while.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh no, no—I shouldn't be able to sleep.
HEDDA.
I am sure you would.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Well, but you husband is certain to come soon now; and then I want to know at once—
HEDDA.
I shall take care to let you know when he comes.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Do you promise me, Hedda?
HEDDA.
Yes, rely upon me. Just you go in and have a sleep in the meantime.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Thanks; then I'll try. [She goes off to the inner room.
The broad daylight streams into the room. Then she takes a
little hand-glass from the writing-table, looks at herself
in it, and arranges her hair. Next she goes to the hall
door and presses the bell-button.
BERTA.
Did you want anything, ma'am?
HEDDA.
Yes; you must put some more wood in the stove. I am shivering.
BERTA.
Bless me—I'll make up the fire at once. [She rakes the embers together and lays a piece of wood upon them; then stops and listens.] That was a ring at the front door, ma'am.
HEDDA.
Then go to the door. I will look after the fire.
BERTA.
It'll soon burn up. [She goes out by the hall door.
wood in the stove.
steals on tiptoe towards the middle doorway and is about to
slip through the curtains.
HEDDA.
[At the stove, without looking up.] Good morning.
TESMAN.
[Turns.] Hedda! [Approaching her.] Good heavens—are you up so early? Eh?
HEDDA.
Yes, I am up very early this morning.
TESMAN.
And I never doubted you were still sound asleep! Fancy that, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Don't speak so loud. Mrs. Elvsted is resting in my room.
TESMAN.
Has Mrs. Elvsted been here all night?
HEDDA.
Yes, since no one came to fetch her.
TESMAN.
Ah, to be sure.
HEDDA.
[Closes the door of the stove and rises.] Well, did you enjoy yourselves at Judge Brack's?
TESMAN.
Have you been anxious about me? Eh?
HEDDA.
No, I should never think of being anxious. But I asked if you had enjoyed yourself.
TESMAN.
Oh yes,—for once in a way. Especially the beginning of the evening; for then Eilert read me part of his book. We arrived more than an hour too early—fancy that! And Brack had all sorts of arrangements to make—so Eilert read to me.
HEDDA.
[Seating herself by the table on the right.] Well? Tell me then—
TESMAN.
[Sitting on a footstool near the stove.] Oh, Hedda, you can't conceive what a book that is going to be! I believe it is one of the most remarkable things that have ever been written. Fancy that!
HEDDA.
Yes yes; I don't care about that—
TESMAN.
I must make a confession to you, Hedda. When he had finished reading—a horrid feeling came over me.
HEDDA.
A horrid feeling?
TESMAN.
I felt jealous of Eilert for having had it in him to write such a book. Only think, Hedda!
HEDDA.
Yes, yes, I am thinking!
TESMAN.
And then how pitiful to think that he—with all his gifts—should be irreclaimable, after all.
HEDDA.
I suppose you mean that he has more courage than the rest?
TESMAN.
No, not at all—I mean that he is incapable of taking his pleasure in moderation.
HEDDA.
And what came of it all—in the end?
TESMAN.
Well, to tell the truth, I think it might best be described as an orgie, Hedda.
HEDDA.
Had he vine-leaves in his hair?
TESMAN.
Vine-leaves? No, I saw nothing of the sort. But he made a long, rambling speech in honour of the woman who had inspired him in his work—that was the phrase he used.
HEDDA.
Did he name her?
TESMAN.
No, he didn't; but I can't help thinking he meant Mrs. Elvsted. You may be sure he did.
HEDDA.
Well—where did you part from him?
TESMAN.
On the way to town. We broke up—the last of us at any rate—all together; and Brack came with us to get a breath of fresh air. And then, you see, we agreed to take Eilert home; for he had had far more than was good for him.
HEDDA.
I daresay.
TESMAN.
But now comes the strange part of it, Hedda; or, I should rather say, the melancholy part of it. I declare I am almost ashamed—on Eilert's account—to tell you—
HEDDA.
Oh, go on—!
TESMAN.
Well, as we were getting near town, you see, I happened to drop a little behind the others. Only for a minute or two—fancy that!
HEDDA.
Yes yes yes, but—?
TESMAN.
And then, as I hurried after them—what do you think I found by the wayside? Eh?
HEDDA.
Oh, how should I know!
TESMAN.
You mustn't speak of it to a soul, Hedda! Do you hear! Promise me, for Eilert's sake. [Draws a parcel, wrapped in paper, from his coat pocket.] Fancy, dear—I found this.
HEDDA.
Is not that the parcel he had with him yesterday?
TESMAN.
Yes, it is the whole of his precious, irreplaceable manuscript! And he had gone and lost it, and knew nothing about it. Only fancy, Hedda! So deplorably—
HEDDA.
But why did you not give him back the parcel at once?
TESMAN.
I didn't dare to—in the state he was then in—
HEDDA.
Did you not tell any of the others that you had found it?
TESMAN.
Oh, far from it! You can surely understand that, for Eilert's sake, I wouldn't do that.
HEDDA.
So no one knows that Eilert Lovborg's manuscript is in your possession?
TESMAN.
No. And no one must know it.
HEDDA.
Then what did you say to him afterwards?
TESMAN.
I didn't talk to him again at all; for when we got in among the streets, he and two or three of the others gave us the slip and disappeared. Fancy that!
HEDDA.
Indeed! They must have taken him home then.
TESMAN.
Yes, so it would appear. And Brack, too, left us.
HEDDA.
And what have you been doing with yourself since?
TESMAN.
Well, I and some of the others went home with one of the party, a jolly fellow, and took our morning coffee with him; or perhaps I should rather call it our night coffee—eh? But now, when I have rested a little, and given Eilert, poor fellow, time to have his sleep out, I must take this back to him.
HEDDA.
[Holds out her hand for the packet.] No—don't give it to him! Not in such a hurry, I mean. Let me read it first.
TESMAN.
No, my dearest Hedda, I mustn't, I really mustn't.
HEDDA.
You must not?
TESMAN.
No—for you can imagine what a state of despair he will be in when he wakens and misses the manuscript. He has no copy of it, you must know! He told me so.
HEDDA.
[Looking searchingly at him.] Can such a thing not be reproduced? Written over again?
TESMAN.
No, I don't think that would be possible. For the inspiration, you see—
HEDDA.
Yes, yes—I suppose it depends on that—[Lightly.] But, by-the-bye —here is a letter for you.
TESMAN.
Fancy—!
HEDDA.
[Handing it to him.] It came early this morning.
TESMAN.
It's from Aunt Julia! What can it be? [He lays the packet on the other footstool, opens the letter, runs his eye through it, and jumps up.]
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