The Lady from the Sea

by Henrik Ibsen

  ELLIDA turns and sees him.

  ELLIDA: I’m sorry. Were you looking for someone?

  STRANGER: You know who I’m looking for.

  ELLIDA: I beg your pardon? What do you mean? What do you want?

  STRANGER: To see you.

  ELLIDA: Your eyes!

  STRANGER: So you do know me. I knew you at once.

  ELLIDA: Don’t look at me. Turn away – I shall call for help!

  STRANGER: There’s no need for that. I’m not going to hurt you.

  ELLIDA: (Covers her face.) Don’t look at me.

  STRANGER: I came in on the ship.

  ELLIDA: What do you want?

  STRANGER: I said I’d be back.

  ELLIDA: You can’t. Go away. I told you. I wrote. I told you it was over.

  STRANGER: I would have come before but it wasn’t possible. Now I’m here.

  ELLIDA: But why? What do you want?

  STRANGER: You know what I’m here for.

  ELLIDA: I am married!

  STRANGER: Yes.

  ELLIDA: Then why…oh this is terrible…

  STRANGER: Don’t you want me?

  ELLIDA: No. Don’t look at me like that!

  STRANGER: I am asking you. Do you want me?

  ELLIDA: No! No! No, I don’t…I won’t, I can’t! I daren’t.

  STRANGER: (Comes closer.) Very well. Just one thing –

  ELLIDA: Don’t touch me…don’t come near me, stay where you are!

  STRANGER: (Closing.) Ellida – there’s no need to be afraid.

  ELLIDA: Don’t look at me!

  STRANGER: Don’t be afraid.

  WANGEL enters.

  WANGEL: I’m sorry to have been so long –

  ELLIDA: (Rushes to him.) Hold me, hold me, please!

  WANGEL: Ellida! What in – ?

  ELLIDA: Hold me! There – you see?

  WANGEL: Who are you? What do you want?

  STRANGER: I’m here to talk to her.

  WANGEL: Indeed? May I ask your business? Do you know him, Ellida?

  ELLIDA: Yes – oh yes!

  WANGEL: What is your name?

  ELLIDA: This is the man!

  WANGEL: This is – ? Is your name Johnston?

  STRANGER: It’s not my name. Call me what you like.

  WANGEL: Well, whatever your name is, this lady is no longer the lighthouse keeper’s daughter. She has been my wife for the last three years.

  STRANGER: So I read.

  ELLIDA: (Excited.) You read? Where – when?

  STRANGER: In a newspaper. On board ship. On my way back to fetch you. A notice of marriage.

  ELLIDA: Marriage…

  STRANGER: That’s strange, I thought. Given that she’s already married and the sea holds the rings to prove it.

  ELLIDA: Oh!

  WANGEL: What are you talking about!

  STRANGER: Had you forgotten, my love?

  ELLIDA: Please, don’t look at me!

  WANGEL: I’ll see to this. Since you’re aware of the situation, I am at a loss to know what you are doing here. What possible business can you have with my wife?

  STRANGER: I promised to come back. Ellida promised to wait.

  WANGEL: Please, I’d be obliged if you didn’t call her by her first name.

  STRANGER: Why not? She belongs to me.

  WANGEL: Belongs to you?

  ELLIDA: He’ll never let me go.

  STRANGER: She told you about the rings?

  WANGEL: Yes, but that’s all over. You had her letters.

  STRANGER: We were bound together, by the rings.

  ELLIDA: I won’t have it – I won’t have it, d’you hear? Stay away, don’t come near me…don’t look at me!

  WANGEL: A piece of childish make-believe…ten years ago? You’ve no claim.

  STRANGER: I have no claim in your sense of the word.

  WANGEL: Then what do you propose to do? Take her by force?

  STRANGER: No. What would be the point? If Ellida comes to me, she comes of her own free will.

  ELLIDA: Of my own free will?

  WANGEL: Do you imagine –

  ELLIDA: (To herself.) Of my own free will…

  STRANGER: Her choice.

  WANGEL: You’re out of your mind, you’ve been at sea too long. Go away, there’s nothing for you here, we’ve no more to say to you.

  STRANGER: I need to be back aboard. Well, Ellida, I’ve kept my side of the bond.

  ELLIDA: Please – don’t touch me!

  STRANGER: Think it over. You have till tomorrow night.

  WANGEL: Think what over? There’s nothing to think over – clear off!

  STRANGER: (To ELLIDA.) I’m going up fjord, I’ll be back tomorrow night. We’ll settle it then between us. On our own.

  ELLIDA: You hear what he says?

  WANGEL: Don’t worry. I’ll see to it.

  STRANGER: Tomorrow night, Ellida.

  ELLIDA: No – please – don’t! Don’t look at me!

  WANGEL: Go back to the house.

  STRANGER: Tomorrow.

  ELLIDA: Tomorrow?

  STRANGER: If you don’t come you will never see me again.

  ELLIDA: Never again?

  STRANGER: Just be ready. (Goes.)

  ELLIDA: You heard what he said? It’s to be my choice.

  WANGEL: You’re safe now. He’s gone. You won’t be seeing him again.

  ELLIDA: How can you say that? He’ll be here – tomorrow night!

  WANGEL: I shan’t allow him to see you.

  ELLIDA: You think you can stop him?

  WANGEL: Leave it to me.

  ELLIDA: And after…when he sails…

  WANGEL: Over. Finished.

  ELLIDA: But…will he come back?

  WANGEL: What would be the point, when he knows it’s over and done with.

  ELLIDA: (To herself.) So tomorrow…or never.

  WANGEL: And if he does show his face again, we’ll put a shot across his bows.

  ELLIDA: How?

  WANGEL: Have him arrested for murder.

  ELLIDA: No! You can’t do that!

  WANGEL: Why not?

  ELLIDA: We don’t know anything about it!

  WANGEL: Yes, we do. He told you.

  ELLIDA: I’ll deny it. You can’t lock him up. He belongs out there, he can’t be confined!

  WANGEL: Ellida…

  ELLIDA: (Clings to him.) Hold me. Keep him away from me.

  WANGEL: Come along.

  LYNGSTRAND and HILDE enter, carrying fishing things.

  LYNGSTRAND: Mrs Wangel! We’ve just seen the American!

  HILDE: I saw him too!

  LYNGSTRAND: He went right past us, he’s just gone on board.

  WANGEL: You know him?

  LYNGSTRAND: We sailed together. I thought he was dead, I thought he’d drowned – there he was!…alive!

  WANGEL: What else d’you know about him?

  LYNGSTRAND: Nothing. Except that he’s probably come back to get his revenge.

  WANGEL: Revenge?

  LYNGSTRAND: On his faithless wife. She betrayed him.

  HILDE: Lyngstrand wants to turn him into a masterpiece of sculpture.

  WANGEL: What?

  ELLIDA: I’ll tell you later.

  ARNHOLM and BOLETTE enter.

  BOLETTE: (Calls.) Come and look, she’s making her way up the fjord, the English ship…

  LYNGSTRAND: (To HILDE.) He’ll be on his way to find her.

  HILDE: The faithless wife!

  LYNGSTRAND: At midnight!

  HILDE: Exciting!

  ELLIDA: (Watching the ship.) Tomorrow he’ll be here.

  WANGEL: Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll protect you.

  ELLIDA: Protect me!

  WANGEL: What is it?

  ELLIDA: Protect me from what – from myself?

  WANGEL: Ellida, what is it? What haven’t you told me?

  ELLIDA: He’s there. Out there. How can I be here? You know where I need to be.

  She goes off across the garden.


  Out there. The sea.

  WANGEL, full of unease, accompanies her.

  ACT FOUR

  The conservatory, the garden in view. BOLETTE sits on the sofa, embroidering. LYNGSTRAND sits at the round table. In the garden BALLESTED paints, watched by HILDE.

  LYNGSTRAND: That looks very complicated, the edging.

  BOLETTE: Not really, not so long as you keep count of the stitches.

  LYNGSTRAND: Is it your own design?

  BOLETTE: No, no, I need something to copy.

  LYNGSTRAND: So it’s not really an art.

  BOLETTE: More of a handicraft.

  LYNGSTRAND: You might, perhaps, become more artistic.

  BOLETTE: I don’t have the talent.

  LYNGSTRAND: But if you were influenced, say, by an artist…

  BOLETTE: You mean I could learn from him?

  LYNGSTRAND: It could happen. By degrees.

  BOLETTE: That would be a wonder.

  LYNGSTRAND: Miss Wangel – have you ever – I mean, did it ever occur to you – have you ever thought about marriage?

  BOLETTE: I beg your pardon?

  LYNGSTRAND: I have.

  BOLETTE: Oh?

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes. I think about it a lot. A woman could be transformed –

  BOLETTE: Transformed?

  LYNGSTRAND: – by her husband’s influence.

  BOLETTE: Why would she want that?

  LYNGSTRAND: In order to…so that she…

  BOLETTE: Could share his interests, you mean?

  LYNGSTRAND: Exactly.

  BOLETTE: And acquire his abilities.

  LYNGSTRAND: Absolutely. It could happen. Gradually. In a happy marriage.

  BOLETTE: What about the other way round?

  LYNGSTRAND: I’m sorry?

  BOLETTE: He might get to grow like her.

  LYNGSTRAND: Oh, no!

  BOLETTE: Why not?

  LYNGSTRAND: A man has his work, his vocation. It gives him a higher purpose in life, a calling.

  BOLETTE: And that’s true of all men? Every single one?

  LYNGSTRAND: Well, artists in particular.

  BOLETTE: You think they should marry? That an artist should be married?

  LYNGSTRAND: Oh, yes. If there is someone he really loves.

  BOLETTE: He shouldn’t just live for his art?

  LYNGSTRAND: Of course. But he can still get married.

  BOLETTE: What about her?

  LYNGSTRAND: Who?

  BOLETTE: The woman, the wife. What is she to live for?

  LYNGSTRAND: Him! She’ll live for his art, then she’ll be happy too. Believe me, Miss Wangel, there’s the honour of being the wife of an artist – she can help him, inspire him, make his life easier by looking after him, seeing that he’s comfortable. What a wonderful destiny for a woman!

  BOLETTE: Do you know… I don’t think I’ve ever heard such a barrel of conceit in all my life.

  LYNGSTRAND: Conceit? No – no, not if you know me, Miss Wangel. When I’m gone – I shall be gone soon –

  BOLETTE: Stop it, don’t say such dreadful things!

  LYNGSTRAND: Dreadful? What do you mean? I shall be going away, to the Mediterranean.

  BOLETTE: Yes, of course, of course.

  LYNGSTRAND: Will you promise me something?

  BOLETTE: What?

  LYNGSTRAND: To think of me after I’ve gone?

  BOLETTE: Very well.

  LYNGSTRAND: Would you promise?

  BOLETTE: I promise.

  LYNGSTRAND: Cross your heart?

  BOLETTE: Cross my heart. (Her mood changes.) For what it’s worth.

  LYNGSTRAND: Don’t say that. You don’t know what it means to me. To know that you’ll be sitting here, thinking of me.

  BOLETTE: But then what?

  LYNGSTRAND: I don’t know.

  BOLETTE: There’s everything in the way.

  LYNGSTRAND: You never know. Miracles can happen. I’m lucky, I’m convinced of it.

  BOLETTE: (Eagerly.) Are you? Are you?

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes! In a year or two I’ll be back. I’ll have made my name, I’ll have money, I’ll be well –

  BOLETTE: Of course you will.

  LYNGSTRAND: Especially if you keep your promise and think of me all the time.

  BOLETTE: I will. I promise – if it does any good.

  LYNGSTRAND: My work will go better, and you’ll be helped too, stuck out here, knowing that you are an inspiration to an artist –

  BOLETTE: And what about you? Who will you be thinking of? Sssh….my tutor!

  ARNHOLM enters. He stops to talk to BALLESTED and HILDE.

  LYNGSTRAND: Are you fond of him?

  BOLETTE: Dr Arnholm?

  LYNGSTRAND: I mean, do you like him?

  BOLETTE: Very much. He’s a good and loyal friend.

  LYNGSTRAND: I wonder why he never married.

  BOLETTE: Mmm.

  LYNGSTRAND: He’s well off.

  BOLETTE: Yes, but that doesn’t help.

  LYNGSTRAND: How do you mean?

  BOLETTE: Most of the girls he knows have been his pupils.

  LYNGSTRAND: So he’ll have had plenty of chances!

  BOLETTE: You can’t marry your teacher! Sssh…

  ARNHOLM approaches.

  ARNHOLM: Bolette!…ah, good morning, Mr – ah – (He gives LYNGSTRAND a cold look.)

  BOLETTE: Good morning.

  ARNHOLM: How is everyone today?

  BOLETTE: Very well, thank you.

  ARNHOLM: Has your mother gone for her bathe?

  BOLETTE: No, she’s still in her room.

  ARNHOLM: Not ill, I trust?

  BOLETTE: I don’t know. She’s locked the door.

  LYNGSTRAND: Mrs Wangel was upset yesterday.

  ARNHOLM: Yes. Do you know why?

  LYNGSTRAND: It was him. The American from the shipwreck I told her I’d seen him – alive. Near the house. So that’s it.

  BOLETTE: (To ARNHOLM.) You and Father were talking late last night.

  ARNHOLM: We had something important to discuss.

  BOLETTE: You asked him about me!

  ARNHOLM: I’m sorry. He had other things on his mind.

  BOLETTE: (Sighs.) He always does.

  ARNHOLM: I’ll try again later today.

  WANGEL enters.

  WANGEL: Arnholm – good of you to come so early. I must talk to you.

  BOLETTE: (To LYNGSTRAND.) Let’s join Hilde.

  LYNGSTRAND: Of course. (They make themselves scarce.)

  ARNHOLM: What do you know about that young man?

  WANGEL: Nothing at all.

  ARNHOLM: He seems to be seeing a lot of the girls.

  WANGEL: Is he – I hadn’t noticed.

  ARNHOLM: It might be as well to keep an eye on it.

  WANGEL: I’m sure you’re right, though the girls are used to looking after themselves. They don’t listen to me.

  ARNHOLM: What does Ellida think?

  WANGEL: Oh, I can’t expect her to interfere – anyway, she’s not up to it. Have you – have you thought any more about what we were saying? Our discussion last night?

  ARNHOLM: I’ve thought of nothing else.

  WANGEL: What do you think I should do?

  ARNHOLM: My dear Doctor, you’re the medical man, surely you know better than I.

  WANGEL: Not when it’s the woman I care about. Anyway, hers is no ordinary illness. It doesn’t respond to medicine!

  ARNHOLM: How is she?

  WANGEL: Calm. But strange. It’s all going on underneath.

  ARNHOLM: You’re saying she’s not herself?

  WANGEL: Who is ‘herself’? It’s there, you see…in her… here inside.

  ARNHOLM: How do you mean?

  WANGEL: You know where she came from.

  ARNHOLM: I’m sorry, I don’t understand.

  WANGEL: She grew up surrounded by water! Haven’t you noticed? They’re a race apart, these people. It’s as though they…they seem to live the life of the sea…they think – t
hey sense in wave…tide. I should never have brought her away from the open sea. I knew it was wrong at the time, but I put myself first. I was selfish.

  ARNHOLM: All men are selfish in this respect, to some extent, it’s our responsibility to make choice. But you’re not a selfish man.

  WANGEL: Oh, yes I am. I’m older, I should have guided, encouraged her – helped her towards a clear mind. The fact is, I’ve done nothing. I liked her as she was!

  ARNHOLM: No, no…

  WANGEL: So she drifts. Further and further out…further and further away from me. Now I don’t know what to do. It’s why I asked you to visit us. I needed help.

  ARNHOLM: But – my dear Doctor – what can I do for you?

  WANGEL: Nothing. It was a mistake on my part. I thought Ellida had been in love with you once, that she still had a fondness for you. I felt it might do her good to see you, talk to you.

  ARNHOLM: So it was your wife? You meant that it was your wife who was waiting, and hoping to see me?

  WANGEL: Yes, who else?

  ARNHOLM: No, no…I misunderstood, that’s all.

  WANGEL: As I say, I was totally on the wrong tack.

  ARNHOLM: But you did it for her, you were thinking of her – that’s not selfish.

  WANGEL: I must make amends…at least try.

  ARNHOLM: This man – why does he have such an influence over Ellida?

  WANGEL: I wish I knew.

  ARNHOLM: You must have some idea.

  WANGEL: There may be no explanation. In terms of our present state of knowledge.

  ARNHOLM: You’re saying that her condition is inexplicable? That there is no physical reason – ?

  WANGEL: I don’t know what to believe. I observe, and I am mystified. Rationally speaking I find no explanation, either of her behaviour or of her beliefs.

  ARNHOLM: At this time.

  WANGEL: Precisely.

  ARNHOLM: This odd, somewhat repellent idea about the baby’s eyes –

  WANGEL: Pure imagination! Hysteria…all in her mind – no, no, that’s utter rubbish.

  ARNHOLM: You met the man yesterday?

  WANGEL: Yes.

  ARNHOLM: And his eyes?

  WANGEL: I don’t know. It was getting dark – in any case Ellida’s made so much of it that it’s hard to be objective.

  ARNHOLM: Hmm. And the other matter? That she began to feel ill at the time when he was on his way here?

  WANGEL: No, no, no. She’s dreamed all that up in the last few days. There was an acute attack at the time, in the spring three years ago. Since young Lyngstrand told her that Johnston, or whatever he calls himself, was coming here to claim her she’s persuaded herself that it all began then.

  ARNHOLM: And it didn’t?

  WANGEL: There had been some oddness in her behaviour – it showed itself particularly when she was expecting our son.