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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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.
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.
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!
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!
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 them on the piano. There!
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 lamp there from the corner table. He and Mrs. Elvsted sit
down and proceed with their work. HEDDA returns.
HEDDA.
[Behind Mrs. Elvsted's chair, gently ruffling her hair.] Well, my sweet Thea,—how goes it with Eilert Lovborg'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 people's papers is just the work for me.
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 Lovborg 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
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