The Lady from the Sea

by Henrik Ibsen

  They go.

  Pause.

  WANGEL: A moment to ourselves.

  ELLIDA: Come and sit here.

  WANGEL: So quiet.

  Silence.

  It can’t go on, can it?

  ELLIDA: What do you suggest?

  WANGEL: What I’d like is the way it was. The way we were before.

  ELLIDA: That’s not possible.

  WANGEL: All right. I understand.

  ELLIDA: You don’t.

  WANGEL: I understand that you are loyal, that you are honest – and that you need a full and open life.

  ELLIDA: Oh?

  WANGEL: And not to be second best. Second choice. Wife number two.

  ELLIDA: Why do you say that now?

  WANGEL: It has crossed my mind before but today it came in focus. The birthday – the children keeping it to themselves. I can’t wipe memories away, it’s not possible – well, for me it isn’t.

  ELLIDA: I know that.

  WANGEL: But you’re wrong. You feel excluded. You feel her here, still with us, and that you have no proper place. That my feelings are for her more than you…that you are not my proper and only wife. And so you won’t sleep with me.

  ELLIDA: You believe all that? That’s what you believe?

  WANGEL: And something else.

  ELLIDA: What?

  WANGEL: You hate it here. The mountains closing in, the lack of air…light…everything narrow and shut in.

  ELLIDA: I do long for the sea. All the time.

  WANGEL: I know. I’ve been aware of it. And I’ve made up my mind.

  ELLIDA: How do you mean?

  WANGEL: We’ll move. Leave. Find a place by open water where you can feel free. A house by the sea.

  ELLIDA: You mustn’t think of it! This is your home, you couldn’t be happy anywhere else.

  WANGEL: I can’t be happy here, without you.

  ELLIDA: I’m not going away – I’m here.

  WANGEL: Are you?

  ELLIDA: How can you leave? Your whole life is here – your work –

  WANGEL: I’ve made up my mind. We’ll go.

  ELLIDA: And that will solve everything?

  WANGEL: All that matters is your happiness.

  ELLIDA: What about you – your happiness?

  WANGEL: I’ve everything to gain.

  ELLIDA: Everything?

  WANGEL: You, Ellida. I shall have you back.

  ELLIDA: No, you can never have that.

  WANGEL: The sooner we go the better!

  ELLIDA: No! I’d rather tell you the truth!

  WANGEL: The truth?

  ELLIDA: Not that it will do any good.

  WANGEL: Well, we’ll see, shall we?

  Pause.

  Well? Are you going to tell me?

  Pause.

  ELLIDA: When you came out to Skjoldvik that day…the day you asked me to marry you…

  WANGEL: Yes?

  ELLIDA: You were so honest. You told me how happy you had been. With your wife. And I was honest with you! I told you there was someone else. That I had been – engaged.

  WANGEL: But you said –

  ELLIDA: It was over. He went away and I ended it. I told you.

  WANGEL: Then why bring it up? That was all settled at the time – I didn’t even ask his name.

  ELLIDA: Thank you.

  WANGEL: Not that it was hard to guess.

  ELLIDA: Guess?

  WANGEL: How many men were there? Out on Skjoldvik? There was only one.

  ELLIDA: (She looks at him.) You thought it was Dr Arnholm?

  WANGEL: Wasn’t it?

  ELLIDA: No.

  WANGEL: Then I can’t imagine. Who was it?

  ELLIDA: Do you – do you remember the American ship? She came in for repairs late one harvest.

  WANGEL: I’m hardly likely to forget – I had to do the post-mortem on the captain.

  ELLIDA: Yes.

  WANGEL: Murdered by the second mate. Bad business.

  ELLIDA: It was never proved.

  WANGEL: Then why did he drown himself?

  ELLIDA: He didn’t. He took ship, for the north.

  WANGEL: How do you know?

  ELLIDA: I was going to marry him.

  WANGEL: What? That’s impossible.

  ELLIDA: He was the man.

  WANGEL: But…he would have been a complete stranger – you didn’t know him!

  ELLIDA: His name was Freeman…well, that was what he called himself then. Later on he signed his letters Johnston.

  WANGEL: Where was he from?

  ELLIDA: Up in the Arctic. The family came down to Norway when he was a child.

  WANGEL: Oh, one of those. What else did he tell you?

  ELLIDA: That he went to sea very young. That he had sailed the world.

  WANGEL: Is that all?

  ELLIDA: We never talked about him.

  WANGEL: What did you talk about?

  ELLIDA: The sea.

  WANGEL: The sea.

  ELLIDA: We talked about storms. The weather. Calm seas. Dark nights…oceans shining like silver plate. We talked about dolphins…whales…seals on the rocks blinking in the sun…terns, skuas, stormy petrels. It was so strange – when he talked it was as if he was a part of them, was them.

  WANGEL: He made you feel that?

  ELLIDA: I felt the same! Joined. Unseparated.

  WANGEL: So you agreed to marry him.

  ELLIDA: He said that we must.

  WANGEL: Had you no will of your own?

  ELLIDA: Not when he was there. It seems incredible.

  WANGEL: How many times did you see this man?

  ELLIDA: He came to look round the lighthouse. After that we met once or twice. Then there was the…the…the Captain, and he had to go away.

  WANGEL: Did he tell you?

  ELLIDA: I got a note, early one morning, to meet him on the headland. He said that he’d stabbed the Captain, and killed him.

  WANGEL: He admitted it?

  ELLIDA: He said he had to do it. That it was right.

  WANGEL: Did he say why?

  ELLIDA: No. He said it wasn’t fit for my ears.

  WANGEL: You believed him? His reasons?

  ELLIDA: Oh, yes.

  WANGEL: And he said goodbye?

  ELLIDA: He took a keychain, and a ring from his finger…and a ring from mine. He threaded them…and married us.

  WANGEL: Married?

  ELLIDA: That’s what he said. He threw the rings on the chain far out and said we were married to the sea.

  WANGEL: And you submitted? You agreed to all this?

  ELLIDA: It seemed right at the time. (She shudders.) He went away, thank God.

  WANGEL: And you?

  ELLIDA: I came to my senses. The whole thing was mad, ridiculous.

  WANGEL: You mentioned some letters.

  ELLIDA: Yes. I heard from him. A few lines from Archangel to say that he was bound for America and giving me an address to write to.

  WANGEL: Did you?

  ELLIDA: At once! I told him it was over. To stop thinking about me. There was nothing – there could never be anything between us.

  WANGEL: But he wrote again?

  ELLIDA: Yes. He took no notice of what I’d said. His letters were quite calm. I was to wait, he would let me know when he was ready, and then I was to go to him.

  WANGEL: He refused to give you up?

  ELLIDA: Yes. I wrote again, even more strongly.

  WANGEL: And he stopped?

  ELLIDA: No. His next letter was as calm and determined as before. So I stopped writing.

  WANGEL: And after that?

  ELLIDA: There were three more letters. One from California, one from China, the last from Australia…he was on his way to the gold mines. Nothing since.

  WANGEL: He seems to have exerted an extraordinary influence.

  ELLIDA: I am invaded.

  WANGEL: Not any more. From now on you stop thinking about him. Promise me, Ellida? Put all thought of him out of your head and I’l
l make you a promise. A fair exchange. I promise you open sea…fresh air with salt on it…out of the fjord into wide horizons – what do you say?

  ELLIDA: Here? There? What difference does it make?

  WANGEL: All the difference in the –

  ELLIDA: How can it? He’s here – he’ll still be here – inside!

  WANGEL: Ellida, it’s over! You’ve just said so. Finished, done with…in the past! He’s gone.

  ELLIDA shakes her head.

  WANGEL: No?

  ELLIDA: No.

  WANGEL: You mean that you don’t want to forget him.

  ELLIDA: I did – I did forget! But then – (She groans.)

  WANGEL: Then?

  ELLIDA: He came back.

  WANGEL: Where? When?

  ELLIDA: Three years ago.

  WANGEL: Three years ago? When you were expecting our child? He came here?

  She shakes her head, puts her hand on her heart.

  WANGEL: You’re saying that he’s there, in you. That for the last three years you’ve been in love with another man.

  ELLIDA: No. I love you.

  WANGEL: So much that you won’t sleep with me…won’t even touch me.

  ELLIDA: Because I’m afraid.

  WANGEL: Why? Afraid of what?

  ELLIDA: The sea.

  BOLETTE, ARNHOLM, LYNGSTRAND and HILDE return.

  BOLETTE: You’re still here!

  ELLIDA: It’s cooler.

  ARNHOLM: We’re going down for the dancing.

  WANGEL: Splendid, we’ll join you.

  HILDE: Au revoir…

  ELLIDA: (As the others go.) Mr Lyngstrand? Are you dancing?

  LYNGSTRAND: I’m sorry?

  ELLIDA: It might be wiser not to, till you’re better. (As he makes to go.) How long is it? Since the wreck? The voyage that made you ill –

  LYNGSTRAND: I beg your pardon?

  ELLIDA: The shipwreck…the boat that sank…when was it?

  LYNGSTRAND: Three years ago.

  ELLIDA: Three? Three years?

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes. Early March. We ran into spring gales.

  ELLIDA: (To WANGEL.) You see?

  WANGEL: Ellida, my dear –

  ELLIDA: (To LYNGSTRAND.) We mustn’t keep you – but promise me you won’t dance.

  LYNGSTRAND: I promise. (Goes.)

  ELLIDA: He was on that ship.

  WANGEL: How can you be – ?

  ELLIDA: He read it. In a newspaper. The report of our marriage. While he was at sea. That’s when it happened.

  WANGEL: When what happened?

  ELLIDA: He’s here. Standing in front of me – no – there – just to one side. Not looking at me. Just – there.

  WANGEL: (Carefully.) What does he look like?

  ELLIDA: He looks exactly the same as when I last saw him.

  WANGEL: Ten years ago.

  ELLIDA: Yes. On the headland. He wore a strange pin – here.

  WANGEL: Pin?

  ELLIDA: A great big milky pearl. Like the eye of a dead fish, staring at me.

  WANGEL: Ellida, this is worse than I thought. I think you may be ill.

  ELLIDA: Yes, and it’s getting closer. Please help me.

  WANGEL: You’ve been carrying all this for the last three years? Why didn’t you – couldn’t you have told me?

  ELLIDA: How could I? I would have had to say – no, it’s too awful to be said!

  WANGEL: Say it!

  ELLIDA: What about his eyes? You saw his eyes!

  WANGEL: That child’s eyes were the same as any other child.

  ELLIDA: No! They changed! When the sea was calm they were pale – clear…and when the clouds thickened and the surf began to…dark…black, black eyes!

  WANGEL: Say you are right. If his eyes changed colour, what of it?

  ELLIDA: I’ve seen them before. Eyes like that.

  WANGEL: Where?

  ELLIDA: Ten years ago. On the headland. They’re his eyes.

  WANGEL: Ellida…!

  ELLIDA: So I can’t…I daren’t…I dare not love you – live with you as your wife!

  She turns and runs away down the slope.

  WANGEL: Ellida! Ellida! Oh, my dearest…Ellida!

  ACT THREE

  A dark corner of the garden. A pond, and beyond it the fjord and the mountains. Late afternoon. BOLETTE sits on a stone bench, sewing. HILDE and LYNGSTRAND walk by the pond with fishing rods.

  HILDE: Don’t move – look – there…he’s enormous!

  LYNGSTRAND: Where?

  HILDE: Down there – look…and another – (She looks up and sees ARNHOLM approaching.) …oh, he’ll frighten them away!

  BOLETTE: Who?

  HILDE: Your tutor!

  BOLETTE: He’s not my tutor.

  HILDE: Well he’s not mine, thank Heaven.

  ARNHOLM: Any fish?

  HILDE: Only the same old carp.

  ARNHOLM: You don’t mean they’re still there?

  HILDE: Still lurking. But not for long!

  ARNHOLM: Why not try out on the fjord?

  LYNGSTRAND: Oh, the pond has far more mysteries.

  HILDE: Much more fascinating. Did you go swimming?

  ARNHOLM: Yes.

  HILDE: Not too far out, I hope.

  ARNHOLM: (Shakes his head.) I’m not a strong swimmer.

  HILDE: Can you do backstroke?

  He smiles, shakes his head.

  I can. (To LYNGSTRAND.) Let’s try the other bank.

  They go.

  ARNHOLM: All by yourself?

  BOLETTE: I often sit here.

  ARNHOLM: How is your mother today?

  BOLETTE: I forgot to ask. She’s out walking with my father.

  ARNHOLM: What have we here? (He picks up one of BOLETTE’s books.)

  BOLETTE: Botany. The other one’s a geography book.

  ARNHOLM: Good reading?

  BOLETTE: Oh, I love it, when I have the time. The house has to come first.

  ARNHOLM: Doesn’t your mother – stepmother see to that?

  BOLETTE: No. I saw to things when Father was alone and I’ve gone on doing it.

  ARNHOLM: But you keep up your reading?

  BOLETTE: Anything I can get my hands on. We’re so out of touch here. We might as well be those old carp…a stone’s throw from the open sea, but well and truly trapped. No freedom for them.

  ARNHOLM: They probably wouldn’t take to it.

  BOLETTE: Anything would be better than this backwater.

  ARNHOLM: Backwater? The place is teeming with visitors!

  BOLETTE: Yes…they come and they go! It’s fine for all of you, you can leave, you’re not trapped in the mud.

  ARNHOLM: What would you like to do?

  BOLETTE: What would I like? To get away!

  ARNHOLM: And then what?

  BOLETTE: Learn about the world – about everything.

  ARNHOLM: Your father used to speak of university for you.

  BOLETTE: Oh, Father!

  ARNHOLM: Talk to him.

  BOLETTE: He won’t do it. I’m no better. We’re stick in the muds – anyway, he has his hands full now.

  ARNHOLM: How d’you mean?

  BOLETTE: My stepmother.

  ARNHOLM: All the more reason for you to go.

  BOLETTE: How can I leave him?

  ARNHOLM: Why not, he has her.

  BOLETTE: Well – yes.

  ARNHOLM: I know what you mean.

  BOLETTE: She doesn’t look after things. She doesn’t see – or doesn’t care. Father’s no better…he likes a nice atmosphere, everything happy and serene, no tense feelings. He gives her medicine.

  ARNHOLM: You mean – ?

  BOLETTE: Not a good idea. Maybe that’s why she’s so strange. It’s so unfair! Why should I be dragged down and kept back?

  ARNHOLM: It’s your choice.

  BOLETTE: Oh, if that were true! Could you – would you speak to Father?

  ARNHOLM: Yes, but there’s something else I want to talk to you about –

  E
LLIDA enters.

  ELLIDA: It is lovely here. Beautiful.

  ARNHOLM: (Rising.) You’ve been out?

  ELLIDA: A lovely long walk. Now we’re going sailing.

  BOLETTE: Do you want to sit down?

  ELLIDA: No, no…

  BOLETTE: There’s plenty of room.

  ELLIDA: No, I don’t want to sit down, I don’t want to.

  ARNHOLM: The walk’s done you good, you look well.

  ELLIDA: I feel well! Almost unbearably happy…and safe! So safe! (Looks out to the fjord.) What’s that?

  BOLETTE: The English ship. She’ll be going up fjord.

  ELLIDA: And then out to the open sea…oh, imagine going with her…oh…

  ARNHOLM: You’ve never been to sea, Mrs Wangel?

  ELLIDA: Never beyond the fjords.

  BOLETTE: It’s stuck on dry land for us, I’m afraid.

  ARNHOLM: Our natural element, surely?

  ELLIDA: I don’t believe that. If men had lived on the sea, in the sea…from the very beginning…we would be different creatures. Quite different. Better perhaps. Happier.

  ARNHOLM: You think so?

  ELLIDA: Why not? My husband agrees.

  ARNHOLM: You may be right. Too late now, eh? Lumbering humans rather than shining mysterious creatures of the deep.

  ELLIDA: We feel it! Regret…that longing for what might have been.

  ARNHOLM: Not at all, dear madam. On the contrary…most people I meet seem to be rather jolly and pleased with their lives.

  ELLIDA: Oh, that’s the sun talking. Summer days! Snatched, because we know what lies ahead… cloud, shadow, bleakness and dark…

  ARNHOLM: Ohh, and you were so full of life and laughter just now. Come –

  ELLIDA: You’re right, I’m being silly. Where is he, he said he was coming – Dr Arnholm, would you be very kind and go and look for my husband?

  ARNHOLM: Of course.

  ELLIDA: Tell him to come – now. When he’s not here I can’t see him.

  ARNHOLM: I’m sorry?

  ELLIDA: I can’t remember his face! It’s as though I’ve lost him and I…

  They stare at her.

  …please! (She paces.)

  BOLETTE: I’ll come with you.

  ARNHOLM: It’s all right, I’ll find him.

  BOLETTE: (Low.) No. He may have gone aboard the ship to say hullo to friends…take a drink perhaps.

  ARNHOLM: I see. Come along then.

  They go.

  ELLIDA stands, gazing at the pond, now and then murmuring to herself.

  A tall, bearded man enters.

  STRANGER: (Softly.) Ellida –

  ELLIDA: (Without turning.) Ah, there you are!

  STRANGER: Yes.

  ELLIDA: At last.

  STRANGER: At last.