PUNCH,
OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 100.

May 30, 1891.

MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.

(Condensed and Revised Version by Mr. P.'s Own Harmless Ibsenite.)

No. IV.—THE WILD DUCK.

ACT III.

HIALMAR's Studio. A photograph has just been taken, GINA and HEDVIG are tidying up.

Gina (apologetically). There should have been a luncheon-party in this Act, with Dr. RELLING and MÖLVIK, who would have been in a state of comic "chippiness," after his excesses overnight. But, as it hadn't much to do with such plot as there is, we cut it out. It came cheaper. Here comes your father back from his walk with that lunatic, Young WERLE—you had better go and play with the Wild Duck. [HEDVIG goes.

Hialmar (coming in). I have been for a walk with GREGERS; he meant well—but it was tiring. GINA, he has told me that, fifteen years ago, before I married you, you were rather a Wild Duck, so to speak. (Severely.) Why haven't you been writhing in penitence and remorse all these years, eh?

Gina (sensibly). Why? Because I have had other things to do. You wouldn't take any photographs, so I had to.

Hialmar. All the same—it was a swamp of deceit. And where am I to find elasticity of spirit to bring out my grand invention now? I used to shut myself up in the parlour, and ponder and cry, when I thought that the effort of inventing anything would sap my vitality. (Pathetically.) I did want to leave you an inventor's widow; but I never shall now, particularly as I haven't made up my mind what to invent yet. Yes, it's all over. Rabbits are trash, and even poultry palls. And I'll wring that cursed Wild Duck's neck!

Gregers (coming in beaming). Well, so you've got it over. Wasn't it soothing and ennobling, eh? and ain't you both obliged to me?

Gina. No; it's my opinion you'd better have minded your own business, [Weeps.

Gregers (in great surprise). Bless me! Pardon my Norwegian naïveté but this ought really to be quite a new starting-point. Why, I confidently expected to have found you both beaming!—Mrs. EKDAL, being so illiterate, may take some little time to see it—but you, HIALMAR, with your deep mind, surely you feel a new consecration, eh?

Hialmar (dubiously). Oh—er—yes. I suppose so—in a sort of way.

[HEDVIG runs in, overjoyed.

Hedvig. Father, only see what Mrs. SÖRBY has given, me for a birthday present—a beautiful deed of gift! [Shows it.

Hialmar (eluding her). Ha! Mrs. SÖRBY, the family Housekeeper. My father's sight failing! HEDVIG in goggles! What vistas of heredity these astonishing coincidences open up! I am not short-sighted, at all events, and I see it all—all! This is my answer. (He takes the deed, and tears it across.) Now I have nothing more to do in this house. (Puts on overcoat.) My home has fallen in ruins about me. (Bursts into tears.) My hat!

Gregers. Oh, but you mustn't go. You must be all three together, to attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrificing forgiveness, you know!

Hialmar. Self-sacrificing forgiveness be blowed!

[He tears himself away, and goes out.

Hedvig (with despairing eyes). Oh, he said it might be blowed! Now he'll never come home any more!

Gregers. Shall I tell you how to regain your father's confidence, and bring him home surely? Sacrifice the Wild Duck.

Hedvig. Do you think that will do any good?

Gregers. You just try it! [Curtain.

ACT IV.

Same Scene. GREGERS enters, and finds GINA retouching photographs.

Gregers (pleasantly). HIALMAR not come in yet, after last night, I suppose?

Gina. Not he! He's been out on the loose all night with RELLING and MÖLVIK. Now he's snoring on their sofa.

Gregers (disappointed.) Dear!—dear!—when he ought to be yearning to wrestle in solitude and self-examination!

Gina (rudely). Self-examine your grandmother!

[She goes out; HEDVIG comes in.

Gregers (to Hedvig). Ah, I see you haven't found courage to settle the Wild Duck yet!

Hedvig. No—it seemed such a delightful idea at first. Now it strikes me as a trifle—well, Ibsenish.

Gregers (reprovingly). I thought you hadn't grown up quite unharmed in this house! But if you really had the true, joyous spirit of self-sacrifice, you'd have a shot at that Wild Duck, if you died for it!

Hedvig (slowly). I see; you mean that my constitution's changing, and I ought to behave as such?

Gregers. Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"—but I believe in you, HEDVIG.

[HEDVIG takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes into the garret with flashing eyes; GINA comes in.

Hialmar (looking in at door with hesitation; he is unwashed and dishevelled). Has anybody happened to see my hat?

Gina. Gracious, what a sight you are! Sit down and have some breakfast, do. [She brings it.

Hialmar (indignantly). What! touch food under this roof? Never! (Helps himself to bread-and-butter and coffee.) Go and pack up my scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my portmanteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare room for another day or two—it won't be the same as living with you!

[He takes some salt meat.

Gregers. Must you go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build upon—thanks to me! Then there's your great invention, too.

Hialmar. Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention because, although it doesn't exist yet, I thought HEDVIG believed in it, with all the strength of her sweet little shortsighted eyes! But now I don't believe in HEDVIG!

[He pours himself out another cup of coffee.

Gregers (earnestly). But, HIALMAR, if I can prove to you that she is ready to sacrifice her cherished Wild Duck? See!

[He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers HEDVIG aiming at the Wild Duck with the butt-end of the pistol. Tableau.

Gina (excitedly). But don't you see? It's the pigstol—that fatal Norwegian weapon which, in Ibsenian dramas, never shoots straight! And she has got it by the wrong end too. She will shoot herself!

Gregers (quietly). She will! Let the child make amends. It will be a most realistic and impressive finale!

Gina. No, no—put down the pigstol, HEDVIG. Do you hear, child?

Hedvig (still aiming). I hear—but I shan't unless father tells me to.

Gregers. HIALMAR, show the great soul I always said you had.