Observer, is one of the PENNELL-ties of success.

MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.

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

No. III.—HEDDA GABLER.

ACT II.

SCENE—The cheerful dark Drawing-room. It is afternoon. HEDDA stands loading a revolver in the back Drawing-room.

Hedda (looking out, and shouting). How do you do, Judge? (Aims at him.) Mind yourself! [She fires.

Brack (entering). What the devil! Do you usually take pot-shots at casual visitors? [Annoyed.

Hedda. Invariably, when they come by the back-garden. It is my unconventional way of intimating that I am at home. One does do these things in realistic dramas, you know. And I was only aiming at the blue sky.

Brack. Which accounts for the condition of my hat. (Exhibiting it.) Look here—riddled!

Hedda. Couldn't help myself. I am so horribly bored with TESMAN. Everlastingly to be with a professional person!

Brack (sympathetically). Our excellent TESMAN is certainly a bit of a bore. (Looks searchingly at her.) What on earth made you marry him?

Hedda. Tired of dancing, my dear, that's all. And then I used TESMAN to take me home from parties; and we saw this villa; and I said I liked it, and so did he; and so we found some common ground, and here we are, do you see! And I loathe TESMAN, and I don't even like the villa now; and I do feel the want of an entertaining companion so!

"I am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar."

Brack. Try me. Just the kind of three-cornered arrangement that I like. Let me be the third person in the compartment—(confidentially)—the tried friend, and, generally speaking, cock of the walk!

Hedda (audibly drawing in her breath). I cannot resist your polished way of putting things. We will conclude a triple alliance. But hush!—here comes TESMAN.

[Enter GEORGE, with a number of books under his arm.

George. Puff! I am hot, HEDDA. I've been looking into LÖVBORG's new book. Wonderfully thoughtful—confound him! But I must go and dress for your party, Judge. [He goes out.

Hedda. I wish I could get TESMAN to take to politics, Judge. Couldn't he be a Cabinet Minister, or something?

Brack. H'm!

[A short pause; both look at one another, without speaking. Enter GEORGE, in evening dress, with gloves.

George. It is afternoon, and your party is at half-past seven—but I like to dress early. Fancy that! And I am expecting LÖVBORG.

[EJLERT LÖVBORG comes in from the hall; he is worn and pale, with red patches on his cheek-bones, and wears an elegant perfectly new visiting-suit, and black gloves.

George. Welcome! (Introduces him to BRACK.) Listen—I have got your new book, but I haven't read it through yet.

Lövborg. You needn't—it's rubbish. (Takes a packet of MSS. out.) This isn't. It's in three parts; the first about the civilising forces of the future, the second about the future of the civilising forces, and the third about the forces of the future civilisation. I thought I'd read you a little of it this evening?

Brack and George (hastily). Awfully nice of you—but there's a little party this evening—so sorry we can't stop! Won't you come too?

Hedda. No, he must stop and read it to me and Mrs. ELVSTED instead.

George. It would never have occurred to me to think of such clever things! Are you going to oppose me for the Professorship, eh?

Lövborg (modestly). No; I shall only triumph over you in the popular judgment—that's all!

George. Oh, is that all? Fancy! Let us go into the back drawing-room and drink cold punch.

Lövborg. Thanks—but I am a reformed character, and have renounced cold punch—it is poison.

[GEORGE and BRACK go into the back-room and drink punch, whilst HEDDA shows LÖVBORG a photograph album in the front.

Lövborg (slowly, in a low tone). HEDDA GABLER! how could you throw yourself away like this!—Oh, is that the ORTLER Group? Beautiful!—Have you forgotten how we used to sit on the settee together behind an illustrated paper, and—yes, very picturesque peaks—I told you all about how I had been on the loose?

Hedda. Now, none of that, here! These are the Dolomites.—Yes, I remember; it was a beautiful fascinating Norwegian intimacy—but it's over now. See, we spent a night in that little mountain village, TESMAN and I!

Lövborg. Did you, indeed? Do you remember that delicious moment when you threatened to shoot me down—(tenderly)—I do!

Hedda (carelessly). Did I? I have done that to so many people. But now all that is past, and you have found the loveliest consolation in dear, good, little Mrs. ELVSTED—ah, here she is! (Enter Mrs. ELVSTED.) Now, THEA, sit down and drink up a good glass of cold punch. Mr. LÖVBORG is going to have some. If you don't, Mr. LÖVBORG, GEORGE and the Judge will think you are afraid of taking too much if you once begin.

Mrs. E. Oh, please, HEDDA! When I've inspired Mr. LÖVBORG so—good gracious! don't make him drink cold punch!

Hedda. You see, Mr. LÖVBORG, our dear little friend can't trust you!

Lövborg. So that is my comrade's faith in me! (Gloomily.) I'll show her if I am to be trusted or not. (He drinks a glass of punch.) Now I'll go to the Judge's party. I'll have another glass first. Your health, THEA! So you came up to spy on me, eh? I'll drink the Sheriff's health—everybody's health!

[He tries to get more punch.

Hedda (stopping him). No more now. You are going to a party, remember. [GEORGE and TESMAN come in from back-room.

Lövborg. Don't be angry, THEA. I was fallen for a moment. Now I'm up again! (Mrs. E. beams with delight). Judge, I'll come to your party, as you are so pressing, and I'll read GEORGE my manuscript all the evening. I'll do all in my power to make that party go!

George. No? fancy! that will be amusing!

Hedda. There, go away, you wild rollicking creatures! But Mr. LÖVBORG must be back at ten, to take dear THEA home!

Mrs. E. Oh, goodness, yes! (In concealed agony.) Mr. LÖVBORG, I shan't go away till you do!

[The three men go out laughing merrily; the Act-drop is lowered for a minute; when it is raised, it is 7 A.M., and Mrs. ELVSTED and HEDDA are discovered sitting up, with rugs around them.

Mrs. E. (wearily). Seven in the morning, and Mr. LÖVBORG not here to take me home yet! what can he be doing?

Hedda (yawning). Reading to TESMAN, with vine-leaves in his hair, I suppose. Perhaps he has got to the third part.

Mrs. E. Oh, do you really think so, HEDDA? Oh, if I could but hope he was doing that!

Hedda. You silly little ninny! I should like to scorch your hair off.