by Henrik Ibsen
ARNHOLM: Hmm. Hard to think what to believe.
WANGEL: It’s the not knowing what to do – how to help her.
ARNHOLM: Simple. Take her away.
WANGEL: My dear man, do you think I haven’t considered that? I even suggested going back to Skjoldvik.
ARNHOLM: And?
WANGEL: She won’t hear of it.
ARNHOLM: For what reason?
WANGEL: She says that it won’t help.
ARNHOLM: You could try.
WANGEL: She may be right! And I do have the girls to think of. At least here they’ve some chance of finding a husband.
ARNHOLM: You’re thinking of that already?
WANGEL: I must consider their future. On the other hand I have poor sick Ellida to care for – I’m in a cleft stick!
ARNHOLM: Well – speaking of Bolette…I wonder whether she is…where they’ve gone. (He looks out.)
WANGEL: I’d make any sacrifice…for each – all of them… if I only knew –
ELLIDA enters.
ELLIDA: You won’t go out, will you?
WANGEL: Of course I won’t. I’m here – I’m staying here, with you. You haven’t said good morning to our friend –
ELLIDA: Doctor Arnholm…I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you.
ARNHOLM: Good morning. You’re not swimming today?
ELLIDA: No, not today, I couldn’t. Do sit down.
ARNHOLM: I won’t just now if you don’t mind. I said I would join the girls in the garden.
ELLIDA: Heaven knows if you’ll find them. I never can.
ARNHOLM: I’ll see if I can track them down. (He goes.)
ELLIDA: What time is it?
WANGEL: Just after eleven.
ELLIDA: By this time tonight the ship will be here again. Oh, I want it over!
WANGEL: Ellida, I need to ask you something.
ELLIDA: Yes?
WANGEL: When we were up on the Look-Out there was something you said to me. You told me that you had been seeing him, quite clearly…here, in front of you…for the last three years.
ELLIDA: I have.
WANGEL: Describe him. His appearance.
She stares at him.
What does he look like?
ELLIDA: You know what he looks like.
WANGEL: But then…when he appeared to you last night – did he look the same then?
ELLIDA: Yes.
WANGEL: But you didn’t recognise him.
ELLIDA: Didn’t I?
WANGEL: No. You said you didn’t know him. You didn’t recognise him.
ELLIDA: (Impressed.) That’s true. I didn’t. Why didn’t I know him at once?
WANGEL: Just the eyes, you said.
ELLIDA: Yes. His eyes!
WANGEL: Up at the Look-Out you described him as clean-shaven, with strange eyes, and a tie-pin that you remember for its oddity. None of that describes the man we saw yesterday. Ellida, think. Perhaps you don’t really remember what he looked like all those years ago. Think.
ELLIDA: (Closes her eyes.) I can’t see him. Isn’t that odd? Today I can hardly see him at all.
WANGEL: Not so odd. The real man, in the flesh, has washed away all the phantoms. I’m glad he’s here.
ELLIDA: Are you?
WANGEL: This is good, don’t you see? Real. Your fancies are being blotted out, chased away – good! You will be well again, Ellida, you will be well!
ELLIDA: You think so?
WANGEL: Last night may be – it may be the start of – a new beginning.
ELLIDA: (Sits.) Please. (He sits beside her.) I want you to know the thoughts of my mind.
WANGEL: Tell me.
ELLIDA: It’s been a mistake, our marriage. A misfortune.
WANGEL: Why?
ELLIDA: We can’t go on lying to ourselves – or to each other.
WANGEL: Lying?!
ELLIDA: Not telling the truth that you needed a wife, that I needed a home, that you bought me.
WANGEL: Bought?
ELLIDA: I was as bad. I sold myself to you.
WANGEL: (Hurt.) Ellida…you couldn’t be more hurtful if you tried.
ELLIDA: What else was it? You were miserable in an empty house. You were looking for a replacement –
WANGEL: (Nods.) I was. And a mother for my children.
ELLIDA: But whether I was suitable didn’t concern you at the time. How often did we speak? Two or three times? You married me because you wanted me.
WANGEL: If you want to put it like that, yes.
ELLIDA: I was alone. Helpless. You offered to support me for the rest of my life.
WANGEL: It didn’t seem like a mere arrangement to me. I simply asked if you would like to share with me and the children the little enough I could call my own.
ELLIDA: That’s true…but I should never have said yes. I should never have sold myself. The meanest, direst poverty would have been better. My life would have been my own – my choice.
WANGEL: Are you saying all these years have meant nothing to you?
ELLIDA: No! You mustn’t think that. You couldn’t have given me more. But I didn’t come freely. Not of my own free will.
WANGEL: I’ve heard that phrase. Yesterday.
ELLIDA: It says everything. It opened my eyes.
WANGEL: How?
ELLIDA: I see it all so clearly. We’re not married. This is not a real marriage.
WANGEL: (Bitterly.) That’s certainly true. There’s no marriage between us, the way we live.
ELLIDA: There never was. Not even in the beginning. The other one, that could have been real.
WANGEL: The other one?
ELLIDA: The other marriage.
WANGEL: What are you talking about!
ELLIDA: To him! Let’s not lie to each other. Or to ourselves.
WANGEL: I don’t want to lie.
ELLIDA: But can’t you see? A promise freely given is binding – as binding as formal marriage. Let me leave you. Let me go.
WANGEL: Ellida!
ELLIDA: Please! It’ll never be possible for us – not after the way it began.
WANGEL: You really believe that?
ELLIDA: How could it be otherwise?
WANGEL: All this time…all this effort and you’ve never been mine.
ELLIDA: I would love to love you. I want to. It’s not possible.
WANGEL: Are you asking me for a divorce? Divorce – is that what you want?
ELLIDA: You don’t understand me at all! I’m not concerned with formalities. What I want is for us – for you and me – for us to set each other free.
WANGEL: Split, you mean? Nullify the contract?
ELLIDA: Exactly.
WANGEL: And then what? What will happen to you – to me – to us?
ELLIDA: The future must look after itself. What’s important is that you give me back my freedom.
WANGEL: That’s a dreadful thing to ask. At least give me time to think. We must talk again, take time.
ELLIDA: But there is no time. It has to be today.
WANGEL: Why?
ELLIDA: He’ll be here! Tonight!
WANGEL: That man has nothing to do with us.
ELLIDA: When I meet him I want to be free.
WANGEL: Free?
ELLIDA: I don’t want the excuse that I am another man’s wife. I want to be free. Otherwise there is no choice for me to make. No freedom with which to make it.
WANGEL: Choice? You mean choose? Between me – and him?
ELLIDA: Yes. I want to be free. To choose. Whether to go with him. Or stay with you.
WANGEL: Go with a man you don’t know? Put your life into the hands of a stranger?
ELLIDA: I put my life into your hands.
WANGEL: You know nothing about him!
ELLIDA: I knew even less about you.
WANGEL: You knew what sort of life I led. You don’t know who, or what he is, where he’s been…
ELLIDA: Frightening, isn’t it?
WANGEL: Yes, it is.
ELLIDA: Perhaps
I should choose it then.
WANGEL: Because it’s frightening?
ELLIDA: Yes.
WANGEL: You mean it fascinates you…
ELLIDA: Yes. And frightens me.
WANGEL: Like the sea. I’ve never really known you, Ellida, have I?
ELLIDA: No. I’m not the woman you thought I was. Perhaps now that makes it possible. For us to part. As friends.
WANGEL: I can’t! You talk about the hold he has on you…well, I can’t let you go! I’m your husband. You’re mine! I want you! You’re mine, it’s for me to protect you!
ELLIDA: Protect me? From what? Something out there? Or something here. What can you do about that, Wangel?
WANGEL: I can help you.
ELLIDA: But do I want that?
WANGEL: Don’t you?
ELLIDA: I wish I knew.
WANGEL: Well, there’s one thing. We’ll settle it tonight.
ELLIDA: Yes. Tonight.
WANGEL: And tomorrow?
ELLIDA: Perhaps I shall throw it away. A life of freedom thrown away. For me – perhaps for him too.
WANGEL: (Grips her wrist.) Do you love him?
ELLIDA: Love? How do I know! There’s just this feeling of – terror – and –
WANGEL: And?
ELLIDA: I feel I belong with him.
WANGEL: (Lowers his head.) Yes. I’m beginning to understand that.
ELLIDA: How is it possible for you to protect me?
WANGEL: By tomorrow he’ll be gone. You’ll be free of that danger. Then…then I’ll…I’ll let you go. We could agree to part.
ELLIDA: It will be too late then.
WANGEL: (Looks off.) The children are coming. Please, they mustn’t know – not yet.
ARNHOLM, BOLETTE, HILDE and LYNGSTRAND appear.
LYNGSTRAND says goodbye to the others and goes.
ARNHOLM: Plans!
HILDE: We’re going out on the fjord tonight –
BOLETTE: No, don’t tell!
WANGEL: We’ve been making plans too.
ARNHOLM: Really?
WANGEL: Ellida will be going to Skjoldvik tomorrow.
BOLETTE: You’re going away?
ARNHOLM: Good, Mrs Wangel.
WANGEL: She wants to go home, to the sea.
HILDE: You’re leaving us?
ELLIDA: Hilde? What’s the matter?
HILDE: Nothing. (Aside.) If that’s what you want – go!
BOLETTE: (Frightened.) Are you leaving too, Father? Are you going? Yes, you are!
WANGEL: No, no. I might go over now and then.
BOLETTE: But you’ll be back.
WANGEL: Oh, yes.
BOLETTE: At least some of the time.
WANGEL: Of course…I must.
ARNHOLM: (To BOLETTE.) I’ll talk to him now – in private.
He and WANGEL talk, apart.
ELLIDA: What’s the matter with Hilde?
BOLETTE: Don’t you know.
ELLIDA shakes her head.
You don’t know what she wants…what she’s wanted ever since you came here?
ELLIDA: What?
BOLETTE: One word of affection…just one word of affection from you.
ELLIDA: Ohh… (She reels away from them to a place on her own.) Could it…is there…? A place for me? Here?
WANGEL and ARNHOLM, still talking together, come forward.
BOLETTE: Father, lunch is ready if you are.
WANGEL: (With forced cheer.) Splendid, my dear! Arnholm, we’ll go in and drink a farewell toast to The Lady from the Sea!
ACT FIVE
By the pond. Twilight. ARNHOLM, BOLETTE, LYNGSTRAND and HILDE enter. The men carry oars and rowlocks.
ARNHOLM: (To LYNGSTRAND.) Are you all right?
LYNGSTRAND: Just a little wet.
HILDE: Why didn’t you jump?
BOLETTE: Hilde!
HILDE: You should have jumped. Dr Arnholm was holding the boat, you were quite safe.
LYNGSTRAND: I’m afraid I’m not good at jumping.
ARNHOLM: It was a fair leap.
BOLETTE: Yes it was.
HILDE: I managed. Serves you right. (She goes.)
BOLETTE: (Following her.) Hilde…!
ARNHOLM: Miss Hilde was always – lively.
LYNGSTRAND: Yes. It’s rather splendid, isn’t it?
They go.
BALLESTED appears carrying sheet music and a French horn. He calls to them.
BALLESTED: Hullo! Are you coming down to celebrate the last ship of the season? (Voices as they reply.) Don’t be long if you want to hear the music…what?
ELLIDA, a shawl over her head, enters, followed by WANGEL.
ELLIDA: He’ll be here!
WANGEL: No, no, no…not yet.
BALLESTED: Good evening, Doctor – Mrs Wangel.
WANGEL: Ah, Ballested. Music this evening?
BALLESTED: Yes, another festive occasion for the Horn Society to make themselves heard – tonight for the English ship.
ELLIDA: Where? Can you see her?
BALLESTED: Not yet. She’ll be ghosting through the islands…still, all of a sudden, turn your head, there she’ll be, coming out of nowhere.
ELLIDA: Oh, yes.
WANGEL: And after tonight she’ll be gone.
BALLESTED: Dismal, eh, Doctor? All the more reason for a song or two, summer nearly over. ‘Soon the seaways shall be blocked… Open oceans call in vain…’
ELLIDA: ‘Ice and Snow inside us Locked… Now or never murmurs the Wave.’
BALLESTED: It’s a melancholy thought all right. No more cavorting in the sun…settle down to the long darkness ahead – acclimatomise, eh, Mrs Wangel – oh, yes, acclimatomise we must. (He bows and goes.)
ELLIDA: The wait is unbearable.
WANGEL: You want to speak to him yourself? You’re sure?
ELLIDA: Yes. I’m here to choose. ‘Of my own free will.’
WANGEL: You don’t have a choice, Ellida. I won’t allow it.
ELLIDA: You can’t stop me. Neither you nor anyone else. You can’t stop me from choosing to go with him. You can forbid it. You can keep me here by force. Against my will. What you cannot do is stop me from choosing. From choosing him, and not you. If that should be my choice.
WANGEL: No. I can’t stop that.
ELLIDA: What reason is there for me to stay? I have nothing to keep me. No roots. The children aren’t mine. They don’t love me, they never have. When I leave – or if I go back to the lighthouse alone – I shan’t have a single key to hand over…no orders to leave, nothing. I have no place in your house. I’ve been an outsider since the day I came here.
WANGEL: But you wanted it that way.
ELLIDA: (Shakes her head.) No. I simply left everything as I found it. As you wanted it – unaltered.
WANGEL: I thought that pleased you.
ELLIDA: I know. But now we pay the price. There is nothing – nothing to hold me here. Not one precious thing.
WANGEL: From tomorrow you are free. To live your own life. As you please.
ELLIDA: My life? Oh, no! My life, the life I was born to, died the day I married you. He kept faith! And now he’s here, the man I betrayed! Offering me a chance to live. How can I let that go…Yes, it’s terrifying – but how can I?
WANGEL: I’ll help you! Please…I’m your husband – your doctor. Let me make the choice for you.
ELLIDA: Don’t think I haven’t thought of that.
WANGEL: Then –
ELLIDA: Hiding? Behind you? From every terror? Every danger? Every fascination. I can’t. I won’t.
WANGEL: (Takes her arm.) Come for a walk.
ELLIDA: No, I have to wait!
WANGEL: The boat will be ages yet. Come…it’ll fill in the time.
They go.
ARNHOLM and BOLETTE stroll by the pond.
BOLETTE: (Noticing ELLIDA and her father.) Oh, it’s –
ARNHOLM: Sssh – don’t disturb them.
BOLETTE: What’s going on?
ARNHOLM: You’ve
noticed?
BOLETTE: Have I! What is it?
ARNHOLM: I don’t really know.
BOLETTE: I think you do.
ARNHOLM: Perhaps…it might be as well for everyone if your stepmother went away for a while.
BOLETTE: I tell you something. If she does, she won’t be back. Not while Hilde and I are here. She worships her, you know. Hilde. Not that you’d ever guess it.
ARNHOLM: What about you? Do you like your stepmother?
BOLETTE: It’s different in my case – she’s not so much older than me.
ARNHOLM: Perhaps you’ll be the one to leave home.
BOLETTE: Oh…you spoke to Father!
ARNHOLM: Yes, I did. Bolette, he has a lot on his mind.
BOLETTE: You see? I told you.
ARNHOLM: I’m afraid he made it clear that he wasn’t able to help. I’m sorry.
BOLETTE: So you’re just standing there teasing me.
ARNHOLM: Teasing?
BOLETTE: About leaving?
ARNHOLM: No. Not at all. Whether you stay…or go out into the world, learn, do all the things you’ve wanted to do…it’s for you to decide, Bolette.
BOLETTE: How can I if there’s no money?
ARNHOLM: Would you accept help? From your old teacher?
BOLETTE: You? Really? You’d help me?
ARNHOLM: Glad to. What do you say?
BOLETTE: Help me to live my own life? But I couldn’t accept, not from a stranger.
ARNHOLM: Not from a stranger, Bolette. From me.
BOLETTE: Of course. (Takes his hands.) Oh, I want to laugh and cry, all at once!
ARNHOLM: After all, you’ve no ties, there’s nothing to keep you here.
BOLETTE: Nothing at all…well there’s Father…Hilde…
ARNHOLM: You’ll have to leave him one day. And as for Hilde…she’ll want her own life too.
BOLETTE: Yes. I can go whenever I want.
ARNHOLM: Then you shall come away with me. Are you prepared to put yourself into my trust?
BOLETTE: Of course! – you’re my teacher, my dear old teacher!
ARNHOLM: Well, that’s in the past. What I’m saying – what I’m asking you now is…will you join yourself to me? Share my life?
BOLETTE: (Shrinks back.) What do you mean?
ARNHOLM: Bolette, I am asking you to be my wife.
BOLETTE: But you couldn’t – no – it’s not possible.
ARNHOLM: Is it really so out of the question?
BOLETTE: Is this what you meant when you offered to help me?
ARNHOLM: I’m sorry. I’ve taken you by surprise. Of course you didn’t realise that I’m here because of you.
