Part 6

from the room on the left, carrying a big cardboard box.]_ NURSE. At last I have found the box with the fancy dress. NORA. Thanks; put it on the table. NURSE. _[doing so]_. But it is very much in want of mending. NORA. I should like to tear it into a hundred thousand pieces. NURSE. What an idea! It can easily be put in order—just a little patience. NORA. Yes, I will go and get Mrs Linde to come and help me with it. NURSE. What, out again? In this horrible weather? You will catch cold, ma’am, and make yourself ill. NORA. Well, worse than that might happen. How are the children? NURSE. The poor little souls are playing with their Christmas presents, but— NORA. Do they ask much for me? NURSE. You see, they are so accustomed to have their mamma with them. NORA. Yes, but, nurse, I shall not be able to be so much with them now as I was before. NURSE. Oh well, young children easily get accustomed to anything. NORA. Do you think so? Do you think they would forget their mother if she went away altogether? NURSE. Good heavens!—went away altogether? NORA. Nurse, I want you to tell me something I have often wondered about—how could you have the heart to put your own child out among strangers? NURSE. I was obliged to, if I wanted to be little Nora’s nurse. NORA. Yes, but how could you be willing to do it? NURSE. What, when I was going to get such a good place by it? A poor girl who has got into trouble should be glad to. Besides, that wicked man didn’t do a single thing for me. NORA. But I suppose your daughter has quite forgotten you. NURSE. No, indeed she hasn’t. She wrote to me when she was confirmed, and when she was married. NORA. _[putting her arms round her neck]_. Dear old Anne, you were a good mother to me when I was little. NURSE. Little Nora, poor dear, had no other mother but me. NORA. And if my little ones had no other mother, I am sure you would—What nonsense I am talking! _[Opens the box.]_ Go in to them. Now I must—. You will see tomorrow how charming I shall look. NURSE. I am sure there will be no one at the ball so charming as you, ma’am. _[Goes into the room on the left.]_ NORA. _[begins to unpack the box, but soon pushes it away from her]_. If only I dared go out. If only no one would come. If only I could be sure nothing would happen here in the meantime. Stuff and nonsense! No one will come. Only I mustn’t think about it. I will brush my muff. What lovely, lovely gloves! Out of my thoughts, out of my thoughts! One, two, three, four, five, six— _[Screams.]_ Ah! there is someone coming—. _[Makes a movement towards the door, but stands irresolute.]_ _[Enter Mrs Linde from the hall, where she has taken off her cloak and hat.]_ NORA. Oh, it’s you, Christine. There is no one else out there, is there? How good of you to come! MRS LINDE. I heard you were up asking for me. NORA. Yes, I was passing by. As a matter of fact, it is something you could help me with. Let us sit down here on the sofa. Look here. Tomorrow evening there is to be a fancy-dress ball at the Stenborgs’, who live above us; and Torvald wants me to go as a Neapolitan fisher-girl, and dance the Tarantella that I learned at Capri. MRS LINDE. I see; you are going to keep up the character. NORA. Yes, Torvald wants me to. Look, here is the dress; Torvald had it made for me there, but now it is all so torn, and I haven’t any idea— MRS LINDE. We will easily put that right. It is only some of the trimming come unsewn here and there. Needle and thread? Now then, that’s all we want. NORA. It is nice of you. MRS LINDE. _[sewing]_. So you are going to be dressed up tomorrow Nora. I will tell you what—I shall come in for a moment and see you in your fine feathers. But I have completely forgotten to thank you for a delightful evening yesterday. NORA. _[gets up, and crosses the stage]_. Well, I don’t think yesterday was as pleasant as usual. You ought to have come to town a little earlier, Christine. Certainly Torvald does understand how to make a house dainty and attractive. MRS LINDE. And so do you, it seems to me; you are not your father’s daughter for nothing. But tell me, is Doctor Rank always as depressed as he was yesterday? NORA. No; yesterday it was very noticeable. I must tell you that he suffers from a very dangerous disease. He has consumption of the spine, poor creature. His father was a horrible man who committed all sorts of excesses; and that is why his son was sickly from childhood, do you understand? MRS LINDE. _[dropping her sewing]_. But, my dearest Nora, how do you know anything about such things? NORA. _[walking about]_. Pooh! When you have three children, you get visits now and then from—from married women, who know something of medical matters, and they talk about one thing and another. MRS LINDE. _[goes on sewing. A short silence]_. Does Doctor Rank come here everyday? NORA. Everyday regularly. He is Torvald’s most intimate friend, and a great friend of mine too. He is just like one of the family. MRS LINDE. But tell me this—is he perfectly sincere? I mean, isn’t he the kind of man that is very anxious to make himself agreeable? NORA. Not in the least. What makes you think that? MRS LINDE. When you introduced him to me yesterday, he declared he had often heard my name mentioned in this house; but afterwards I noticed that your husband hadn’t the slightest idea who I was. So how could Doctor Rank—? NORA. That is quite right, Christine. Torvald is so absurdly fond of me that he wants me absolutely to himself, as he says. At first he used to seem almost jealous if I mentioned any of the dear folk at home, so naturally I gave up doing so. But I often talk about such things with Doctor Rank, because he likes hearing about them. MRS LINDE. Listen to me, Nora. You are still very like a child in many things, and I am older than you in many ways and have a little more experience. Let me tell you this—you ought to make an end of it with Doctor Rank. NORA. What ought I to make an end of? MRS LINDE. Of two things, I think. Yesterday you talked some nonsense about a rich admirer who was to leave you money— NORA. An admirer who doesn’t exist, unfortunately! But what then? MRS LINDE. Is Doctor Rank a man of means? NORA. Yes, he is. MRS LINDE. And has no one to provide for? NORA. No, no one; but— MRS LINDE. And comes here everyday? NORA. Yes, I told you so. MRS LINDE. But how can this well-bred man be so tactless? NORA. I don’t understand you at all. MRS LINDE. Don’t prevaricate, Nora. Do you suppose I don’t guess who lent you the two hundred and fifty pounds? NORA. Are you out of your senses? How can you think of such a thing! A friend of ours, who comes here everyday! Do you realise what a horribly painful position that would be? MRS LINDE. Then it really isn’t he? NORA. No, certainly not. It would never have entered into my head for a moment. Besides, he had no money to lend then; he came into his money afterwards. MRS LINDE. Well, I think that was lucky for you, my dear Nora. NORA. No, it would never have come into my head to ask Doctor Rank. Although I am quite sure that if I had asked him— MRS LINDE. But of course you won’t. NORA. Of course not. I have no reason to think it could possibly be necessary. But I am quite sure that if I told Doctor Rank— MRS LINDE. Behind your husband’s back? NORA. I must make an end of it with the other one, and that will be behind his back too. I must make an end of it with him. MRS LINDE. Yes, that is what I told you yesterday, but— NORA. _[walking up and down]_. A man can put a thing like that straight much easier than a woman— MRS LINDE. One’s husband, yes. NORA. Nonsense! _[Standing still.]_ When you pay off a debt you get your bond back, don’t you? MRS LINDE. Yes, as a matter of course. NORA. And can tear it into a hundred thousand pieces, and burn it up—the nasty dirty paper! MRS LINDE. _[looks hard at her, lays down her sewing and gets up slowly]_. Nora, you are concealing something from me. NORA. Do I look as if I were? MRS LINDE. Something has happened to you since yesterday morning. Nora, what is it? NORA. _[going nearer to her]_. Christine! _[Listens.]_ Hush! there’s Torvald come home. Do you mind going in to the children for the present? Torvald can’t bear to see dressmaking going on. Let Anne help you. MRS LINDE. _[gathering some of the things together]_. Certainly—but I am not going away from here until we have had it out with one another. _[She goes into the room on the left, as HELMER comes in from the hall.]_ NORA. _[going up to HELMER]_. I have wanted you so much, Torvald dear. HELMER. Was that the dressmaker? NORA. No, it was Christine; she is helping me to put my dress in order. You will see I shall look quite smart. HELMER. Wasn’t that a happy thought of mine, now? NORA. Splendid! But don’t you think it is nice of me, too, to do as you wish? HELMER. Nice?—because you do as your husband wishes? Well, well, you little rogue, I am sure you did not mean it in that way. But I am not going to disturb you; you will want to be trying on your dress, I expect. NORA. I suppose you are going to work. HELMER. Yes. _[Shows her a bundle of papers.]_ Look at that. I have just been into the bank. _[Turns to go into his room.]_ NORA. Torvald. HELMER. Yes. NORA. If your little squirrel were to ask you for something very, very prettily—? HELMER. What then? NORA. Would you do it? HELMER. I should like to hear what it is, first. NORA. Your squirrel would run about and do all her tricks if you would be nice, and do what she wants. HELMER. Speak plainly. NORA. Your skylark would chirp about in every room, with her song rising and falling— HELMER. Well, my skylark does that anyhow. NORA. I would play the fairy and dance for you in the moonlight, Torvald. HELMER. Nora—you surely don’t mean that request you made to me this morning? NORA. _[going near him]_. Yes, Torvald, I beg you so earnestly— HELMER. Have you really the courage to open up that question again? NORA. Yes, dear, you must do as I ask; you must let Krogstad keep his post in the bank. HELMER. My dear Nora, it is his post that I have arranged Mrs Linde shall have. NORA. Yes, you have been awfully kind about that; but you could just as well dismiss some other clerk instead of Krogstad. HELMER. This is simply incredible obstinacy! Because you chose to give him a thoughtless promise that you would speak for him, I am expected to— NORA. That isn’t the reason, Torvald. It is for your own sake. This fellow writes in the most scurrilous newspapers; you have told me so yourself. He can do you an unspeakable amount of harm. I am frightened to death of him— HELMER. Ah, I understand; it is recollections of the past that scare you. NORA. What do you mean? HELMER. Naturally you are thinking of your father. NORA. Yes—yes, of course. Just recall to your mind what these malicious creatures wrote in the papers about papa, and how horribly they slandered him. I believe they would have procured his dismissal if the Department had not sent you over to inquire into it, and if you had not been so kindly disposed and helpful to him. HELMER. My little Nora, there is an important difference between your father and me. Your father’s reputation as a public official was not above suspicion. Mine is, and I hope it will continue to be so, as long as I hold my office. NORA. You never can tell what mischief these men may contrive. We ought to be so well off, so snug and happy here in our peaceful home, and have no car