Part 9

Christine; it mustn’t happen, not for all the world. MRS LINDE. I will go at once and see Krogstad. NORA. Don’t go to him; he will do you some harm. MRS LINDE. There was a time when he would gladly do anything for my sake. NORA. He? MRS LINDE. Where does he live? NORA. How should I know—? Yes _[feeling in her pocket]_, here is his card. But the letter, the letter—! HELMER. _[calls from his room, knocking at the door]_. Nora! NORA. _[cries out anxiously]_. Oh, what’s that? What do you want? HELMER. Don’t be so frightened. We are not coming in; you have locked the door. Are you trying on your dress? NORA. Yes, that’s it. I look so nice, Torvald. MRS LINDE. _[who has read the card]_. I see he lives at the corner here. NORA. Yes, but it’s no use. It is hopeless. The letter is lying there in the box. MRS LINDE. And your husband keeps the key? NORA. Yes, always. MRS LINDE. Krogstad must ask for his letter back unread, he must find some pretence— NORA. But it is just at this time that Torvald generally— MRS LINDE. You must delay him. Go in to him in the meantime. I will come back as soon as I can. _[She goes out hurriedly through the hall door.]_ NORA. _[goes to HELMER’S door, opens it and peeps in]_. Torvald! HELMER. _[from the inner room]_. Well? May I venture at last to come into my own room again? Come along, Rank, now you will see— _[Halting in the doorway.]_ But what is this? NORA. What is what, dear? HELMER. Rank led me to expect a splendid transformation. RANK. _[in the doorway]_. I understood so, but evidently I was mistaken. NORA. Yes, nobody is to have the chance of admiring me in my dress until tomorrow. HELMER. But, my dear Nora, you look so worn out. Have you been practising too much? NORA. No, I have not practised at all. HELMER. But you will need to— NORA. Yes, indeed I shall, Torvald. But I can’t get on a bit without you to help me; I have absolutely forgotten the whole thing. HELMER. Oh, we will soon work it up again. NORA. Yes, help me, Torvald. Promise that you will! I am so nervous about it—all the people—. You must give yourself up to me entirely this evening. Not the tiniest bit of business—you mustn’t even take a pen in your hand. Will you promise, Torvald dear? HELMER. I promise. This evening I will be wholly and absolutely at your service, you helpless little mortal. Ah, by the way, first of all I will just— _[Goes towards the hall door.]_ NORA. What are you going to do there? HELMER. Only see if any letters have come. NORA. No, no! don’t do that, Torvald! HELMER. Why not? NORA. Torvald, please don’t. There is nothing there. HELMER. Well, let me look. _[Turns to go to the letter-box. NORA, at the piano, plays the first bars of the Tarantella. HELMER stops in the doorway.]_ Aha! NORA. I can’t dance tomorrow if I don’t practise with you. HELMER. _[going up to her]_. Are you really so afraid of it, dear? NORA. Yes, so dreadfully afraid of it. Let me practise at once; there is time now, before we go to dinner. Sit down and play for me, Torvald dear; criticise me, and correct me as you play. HELMER. With great pleasure, if you wish me to. _[Sits down at the piano.]_ NORA. _[takes out of the box a tambourine and a long variegated shawl. She hastily drapes the shawl round her. Then she springs to the front of the stage and calls out]_. Now play for me! I am going to dance! _[HELMER plays and NORA dances. RANK stands by the piano behind HELMER, and looks on.]_ HELMER. _[as he plays]_. Slower, slower! NORA. I can’t do it any other way. HELMER. Not so violently, Nora! NORA. This is the way. HELMER. _[stops playing]_. No, no—that is not a bit right. NORA. _[laughing and swinging the tambourine]_. Didn’t I tell you so? RANK. Let me play for her. HELMER. _[getting up]_. Yes, do. I can correct her better then. _[RANK sits down at the piano and plays. NORA dances more and more wildly. HELMER has taken up a position beside the stove, and during her dance gives her frequent instructions. She does not seem to hear him; her hair comes down and falls over her shoulders; she pays no attention to it, but goes on dancing. Enter Mrs Linde.]_ MRS LINDE. _[standing as if spell-bound in the doorway]_. Oh!— NORA. _[as she dances]_. Such fun, Christine! HELMER. My dear darling Nora, you are dancing as if your life depended on it. NORA. So it does. HELMER. Stop, Rank; this is sheer madness. Stop, I tell you! _[RANK stops playing, and NORA suddenly stands still. HELMER goes up to her.]_ I could never have believed it. You have forgotten everything I taught you. NORA. _[throwing away the tambourine]_. There, you see. HELMER. You will want a lot of coaching. NORA. Yes, you see how much I need it. You must coach me up to the last minute. Promise me that, Torvald! HELMER. You can depend on me. NORA. You must not think of anything but me, either today or tomorrow; you mustn’t open a single letter—not even open the letter-box— HELMER. Ah, you are still afraid of that fellow— NORA. Yes, indeed I am. HELMER. Nora, I can tell from your looks that there is a letter from him lying there. NORA. I don’t know; I think there is; but you must not read anything of that kind now. Nothing horrid must come between us until this is all over. RANK. _[whispers to HELMER]_. You mustn’t contradict her. HELMER. _[taking her in his arms]_. The child shall have her way. But tomorrow night, after you have danced— NORA. Then you will be free. _[The MAID appears in the doorway to the right.]_ MAID. Dinner is served, ma’am. NORA. We will have champagne, Helen. MAID. Very good, ma’am. _[Exit.]_ HELMER. Hullo!—are we going to have a banquet? NORA. Yes, a champagne banquet until the small hours. _[Calls out.]_ And a few macaroons, Helen—lots, just for once! HELMER. Come, come, don’t be so wild and nervous. Be my own little skylark, as you used. NORA. Yes, dear, I will. But go in now and you too, Doctor Rank. Christine, you must help me to do up my hair. RANK. _[whispers to HELMER as they go out]_. I suppose there is nothing—she is not expecting anything? HELMER. Far from it, my dear fellow; it is simply nothing more than this childish nervousness I was telling you of. _[They go into the right-hand room.]_ NORA. Well! MRS LINDE. Gone out of town. NORA. I could tell from your face. MRS LINDE. He is coming home tomorrow evening. I wrote a note for him. NORA. You should have let it alone; you must prevent nothing. After all, it is splendid to be waiting for a wonderful thing to happen. MRS LINDE. What is it that you are waiting for? NORA. Oh, you wouldn’t understand. Go in to them, I will come in a moment. _[Mrs Linde goes into the dining-room. NORA stands still for a little while, as if to compose herself. Then she looks at her watch.]_ Five o’clock. Seven hours until midnight; and then four-and-twenty hours until the next midnight. Then the Tarantella will be over. Twenty-four and seven? Thirty-one hours to live. HELMER. _[from the doorway on the right]_. Where’s my little skylark? NORA. _[going to him with her arms outstretched]_. Here she is! ACT III _[THE SAME SCENE.—The table has been placed in the middle of the stage, with chairs around it. A lamp is burning on the table. The door into the hall stands open. Dance music is heard in the room above. Mrs Linde is sitting at the table idly turning over the leaves of a book; she tries to read, but does not seem able to collect her thoughts. Every now and then she listens intently for a sound at the outer door.]_ MRS LINDE. _[looking at her watch]_. Not yet—and the time is nearly up. If only he does not—. _[Listens again.]_ Ah, there he is. _[Goes into the hall and opens the outer door carefully. Light footsteps are heard on the stairs. She whispers.]_ Come in. There is no one here. KROGSTAD. _[in the doorway]_. I found a note from you at home. What does this mean? MRS LINDE. It is absolutely necessary that I should have a talk with you. KROGSTAD. Really? And is it absolutely necessary that it should be here? MRS LINDE. It is impossible where I live; there is no private entrance to my rooms. Come in; we are quite alone. The maid is asleep, and the Helmers are at the dance upstairs. KROGSTAD. _[coming into the room]_. Are the Helmers really at a dance tonight? MRS LINDE. Yes, why not? KROGSTAD. Certainly—why not? MRS LINDE. Now, Nils, let us have a talk. KROGSTAD. Can we two have anything to talk about? MRS LINDE. We have a great deal to talk about. KROGSTAD. I shouldn’t have thought so. MRS LINDE. No, you have never properly understood me. KROGSTAD. Was there anything else to understand except what was obvious to all the world—a heartless woman jilts a man when a more lucrative chance turns up? MRS LINDE. Do you believe I am as absolutely heartless as all that? And do you believe that I did it with a light heart? KROGSTAD. Didn’t you? MRS LINDE. Nils, did you really think that? KROGSTAD. If it were as you say, why did you write to me as you did at the time? MRS LINDE. I could do nothing else. As I had to break with you, it was my duty also to put an end to all that you felt for me. KROGSTAD. _[wringing his hands]_. So that was it. And all this—only for the sake of money! MRS LINDE. You must not forget that I had a helpless mother and two little brothers. We couldn’t wait for you, Nils; your prospects seemed hopeless then. KROGSTAD. That may be so, but you had no right to throw me over for anyone else’s sake. MRS LINDE. Indeed I don’t know. Many a time did I ask myself if I had the right to do it. KROGSTAD. _[more gently]_. When I lost you, it was as if all the solid ground went from under my feet. Look at me now—I am a shipwrecked man clinging to a bit of wreckage. MRS LINDE. But help may be near. KROGSTAD. It was near; but then you came and stood in my way. MRS LINDE. Unintentionally, Nils. It was only today that I learned it was your place I was going to take in the Bank. KROGSTAD. I believe you, if you say so. But now that you know it, are you not going to give it up to me? MRS LINDE. No, because that would not benefit you in the least. KROGSTAD. Oh, benefit, benefit—I would have done it whether or no. MRS LINDE. I have learned to act prudently. Life, and hard, bitter necessity have taught me that. KROGSTAD. And life has taught me not to believe in fine speeches. MRS LINDE. Then life has taught you something very reasonable. But deeds you must believe in? KROGSTAD. What do you mean by that? MRS LINDE. You said you were like a shipwrecked man clinging to some wreckage. KROGSTAD. I had good reason to say so. MRS LINDE. Well, I am like a shipwrecked woman clinging to some wreckage—no one to mourn for, no one to care for. KROGSTAD. It was your own choice. MRS LINDE. There was no other choice—then. KROGSTAD. Well, what now? MRS LINDE. Nils, how would it be if we two shipwrecked people could join forces? KROGSTAD. What are you saying? MRS LINDE. Two on the same piece of wreckage would stand a better chance than each on their own. KROGSTAD. Christine I... MRS LINDE. What do you suppose brought me to town? KROGSTAD. Do you mean that you gave me a thought? MRS LINDE. I could not endure life without work. All my life, as long as I can remember, I have worked, and it has been my greatest and only pleasure. But now I am quite alone in the world—my life is so dreadfully empty and I feel so forsaken. There is not the least pleasure in working for one’s self. Nils, giv