by Henrik Ibsen
(1828-1906)
Translated
by Edmund Gosse and William Archer
Introduction | Act: First | Second | Third
ACT SECOND.
A prettily furnished small
drawing-room in SOLNESS'S house.
In the back, a glass-door leading out to the verandah and
garden. The right-hand corner is cut off transversely by
a large bay-window, in which are flower-stands. The left-
hand corner is similarly cut off by a transverse wall, in
which is a small door papered like the wall. On each side,
an ordinary door. In front, on the right, a console table
with a large mirror over it. Well-filled stands of plants
and flowers. In front, on the left, a sofa with a table
and chairs. Further back, a bookcase. Well forward in the
room, before the bay window, a small table and some chairs.
It is early in the day.
SOLNESS sits by the little
table with RAGNAR BROVIK'S
portfolio open in front of him. He is turning the drawings
over and closely examining some of them. MRS. SOLNESS moves
about noiselessly with a small watering-pot, attending to her
flowers. She is dressed in black as before. Her hat, cloak
and parasol lie on a chair near the mirror. Unobserved by her,
SOLNESS now and again follows her with his eyes. Neither of
them speaks.
KAIA FOSLI enters quietly by the door on the left.
SOLNESS.
[Turns his head, and says
in an off-hand tone of indifference:] Well,
is that you?
KAIA.
I merely wished to let you know that I have come.
SOLNESS.
Yes, yes, that's all right. Hasn't Ragnar come too?
KAIA.
No, not yet. He had to wait
a little while to see the doctor. But
he is coming presently to hear---
SOLNESS.
How is the old man to-day?
KAIA.
Not well. He begs you to
excuse him; he is obliged to keep his bed
to-day.
SOLNESS.
Why, of course; by all means let him rest. But now, get to your work.
KAIA.
Yes. [Pauses at the door.]
Do you wish to speak to Ragnar when he
comes?
SOLNESS.
No--I don't know that I
have anything particular to say to him.
[KAIA goes out again to the left. SOLNESS remains seated,
turning over the drawings.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Over beside the plants.]
I wonder if he isn't going to die now,
as well?
SOLNESS.
[Looks up at her.] As well as who?
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Without answering.] Yes,
yes--depend upon it, Halvard, old Brovik
is going to die too. You'll see that he will.
SOLNESS.
My dear Aline, ought you not to go out for a little walk?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, I suppose I ought to.
[She continues to attend the flowers.
SOLNESS.
[Bending over the drawings.] Is she still asleep?
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looking at him.] Is it
Miss Wangel you are sitting there thinking
about?
SOLNESS.
[Indifferently.] I just happened to recollect her.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Miss Wangle was up long ago.
SOLNESS.
Oh, was she?
MRS. SOLNESS.
When I went in to see her,
she was busy putting her things in order.
[She goes in front of the mirror and slowly begins to put on
her hat.
SOLNESS.
[After a short pause.] So
we have found a use for one our nurseries
after all, Aline.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, we have.
SOLNESS.
That seems to me better than to have them all standing empty.
MRS. SOLNESS.
That emptiness is dreadful; you are right there.
SOLNESS.
[Closes the portfolio, rises
and approaches her.] You will find that
we shall get on far better after this, Aline. Things will be more
comfortable. Life will be easier--especially for you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Looks at him.] After this?
SOLNESS.
Yes, believe me, Aline---
MRS. SOLNESS.
Do you mean--because she has come here?
SOLNESS.
[Checking himself.] I mean,
of course--when once we have moved into
the new home.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Takes her cloak.] Ah, do
you think so, Halvard? Will it be better
then?
SOLNESS.
I can't think otherwise. And surely you think so too?
MRS. SOLNESS.
I think nothing at all about the new house.
SOLNESS.
[Cast down.] It's hard for
me to hear you say that; for you know it
is mainly for your sake that I have built it.
[He offers to help her on with her cloak.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Evades him.] The fact is, you do far too much for my sake.
SOLNESS.
[With a certain vehemence.]
No, no, you really mustn't say that,
Aline! I cannot bear to hear you say such things!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Very well, then I won't say it, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
But I stick to what _I_
said. You'll see that things will be easier
for you in the new place.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, heavens--easier for me---!
SOLNESS.
[Eagerly.] Yes, indeed they
will! You may be quite sure of that!
For you see--there will be so very, very much there that will remind
you of your own home---
MRS. SOLNESS.
The home that used to be
father's and mother's--and that was burnt
to the ground---
SOLNESS.
[In a low voice.] Yes, yes,
my poor Aline. That was a terrible blow
for you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Breaking out in lamentation.]
You may build as much as ever you
like, Halvard--you can never build up again a real home for me!
SOLNESS.
[Crosses the room.] Well,
in Heaven's name, let us talk no more
about it then.
MRS. SOLNESS.
We are not in the habit
of talking about it. For you always put the
thought away from you---
SOLNESS.
[Stops suddenly and looks
at her.] Do I? And why should I do that?
Put the thought away from me?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, Halvard, I understand
you very well. You are so anxious to
spare me--and to find excuses for me too--as much as ever you can.
SOLNESS.
[With astonishment in his
eyes.] You! Is it you--yourself, that
your are talking about, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, who else should it be but myself?
SOLNESS.
[Involuntarily to himself.] That too!
MRS. SOLNESS.
As for the old house, I
wouldn't mind so much about that. When once
misfortune was in the air--why---
SOLNESS.
Ah, you are right there.
Misfortune will have its way--as the saying
goes.
MRS. SOLNESS.
But it's what came of the
fire--the dreadful thing that followed---!
That is the thing! That, that, that!
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Don't think about that, Aline!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Ah, that is exactly what
I cannot help thinking about. And now, at
last, I must speak about it, too; for I don't seem to be able to
bear it any longer. And then never to be able to forgive myself---
SOLNESS.
[Exclaiming.] Yourself---!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, for I had duties on
both sides--both towards you and towards
the little ones. I ought to have hardened myself--not to have let
the horror take such hold upon me--nor the grief for the burning of
my home. [Wrings her hands.] Oh, Halvard, if I had only had the
strength!
SOLNESS.
[Softly, much moved, comes
closer.] Aline--you must promise me never
to think these thoughts any more.--Promise me that, dear!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, promise, promise! One can promise anything.
SOLNESS.
[Clenches his hands and
crosses the room.] Oh, but this is hopeless,
hopeless! Never a ray of sunlight! Not so much as a gleam of
brightness to light up our home!
MRS. SOLNESS.
This is no home, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
Oh no, you may well say
that. [Gloomily.] And God knows whether you
are not right in saying that it will be no better for us in the new
house, either.
MRS. SOLNESS.
It will never be any better.
Just as empty--just as desolate--there
as here.
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Why in all
the world have we built it then? Can you
tell me that?
MRS. SOLNESS.
No; you must answer that question for yourself.
SOLNESS.
[Glances suspiciously at her.] What do you mean by that, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
What do I mean?
SOLNESS.
Yes, in the devil's name!
You said it so strangely--as if you had
some hidden meaning in it.
MRS. SOLNESS.
No, indeed, I assure you---
SOLNESS.
[Comes closer.] Oh, come
now--I know what I know. I have both my
eyes and my ears about me, Aline--you may depend upon that!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Why, what are you talking about? What is it?
SOLNESS.
[Places himself in front
of her.] Do you mean to say you don't find
a kind of lurking, hidden meaning in the most innocent word I happen
to say?
MRS. SOLNESS.
_I_ do you say? _I_ do that?
SOLNESS.
[Laughs.] Ho-ho-ho! It's
natural enough, Aline! When you have a
sick man on your hands---
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Anxiously.] Sick? Are you ill, Halvard?
SOLNESS.
[Violently.] A half-mad
man then! A crazy man! Call me what you
will.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Feels blindly for a chair and sits down.] Halvard--for God's sake---
SOLNESS.
But you are wrong, both
you and the doctor. I am not in the state
that you imagine.
[He walks up and down the room. MRS. SOLNESS follows him
anxiously with her eyes. Finally he goes up to her.
SOLNESS.
[Calmly.] In reality there is nothing whatever the matter with me.
MRS. SOLNESS.
No, there isn't, is there? But then what is it that troubles you so?
SOLNESS.
Why this, that I often feel
ready to sink under this terrible burden
of debt---
MRS. SOLNESS.
Debt, do you say? But you owe no one anything, Halvard!
SOLNESS.
[Softly, with emotion.]
I owe a boundless debt to you--to you--to
you, Aline.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Rises slowly.] What is
behind all this? You may just as well tell
me at once.
SOLNESS.
But there is nothing behind
it! I have never done you any wrong--
not wittingly and willfully, at any rate. And yet--and yet it seems
as though a crushing debt rested upon me and weighed me down.
MRS. SOLNESS.
A debt to me?
SOLNESS.
Chiefly to you.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Then you are--ill after all, Halvard.
SOLNESS.
[Gloomily.] I suppose I
must be--or not far from it. [Looks towards
the door to the right, which is opened at this moment.] Ah! now it
grows light.
HILDA WANGEL comes in. She has made some alteration in her
dress, and let down her skirt.
HILDA.
Good morning, Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
[Nods.] Slept well?
HILDA.
Quite deliciously! Like
a child in a cradle. Oh--I lay and stretched
myself like--like a princess!
SOLNESS.
[Smiles a little.] You were thoroughly comfortable then?
HILDA.
I should think so.
SOLNESS.
And no doubt you dreamed, too.
HILDA.
Yes, I did. But that was horrid.
SOLNESS.
Was it?
HILDA.
Yes, for I dreamed I was
falling over a frightfully high, sheer
precipice. Do you never have that kind of dream?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes--now and then---
HILDA.
It's tremendously thrilling--when you fall and fall---
SOLNESS.
It seems to make one's blood run cold.
HILDA.
Do you draw your legs up under you while you are falling?
SOLNESS.
Yes, as high as ever I can.
HILDA.
So do I.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Takes her parasol.] I must
go into town now, Halvard. [To HILDA.]
And I'll try to get one or two things that you may require.
HILDA.
[Making a motion to throw
her arms round her neck.] Oh, you dear,
Mrs. Solness! You are really much too kind to me! Frightfully
kind---
MRS. SOLNESS.
[Deprecatingly, freeing
herself.] Oh, not at all. It's only my duty,
so I am very glad to do it.
HILDA.
[Offended, pouts.] But really,
I think I am quite fit to be seen in
the streets--now that I've put my dress to rights. Or do you think
I am not?
MRS. SOLNESS.
To tell you the truth, I think people would stare at you a little.
HILDA.
[Contemptuously.] Pooh! Is that all? That only amuses me.
SOLNESS.
[With suppressed ill-humour.]
Yes, but people might take it into
their heads that you were mad too, you see.
HILDA.
Mad? Are there so many mad people here in town, then?
SOLNESS.
[Points to his own forehead.] Here you see one at all events.
HILDA.
You--Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
Have you not noticed that yet?
HILDA.
No, I certainly have not.
[Reflects and laughs a little.] And yet--
perhaps in one single thing.
SOLNESS.
Ah, do you hear that, Aline?
MRS. SOLNESS.
What is that one single thing, Miss Wangel?
HILDA.
No, I won't say.
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, do!
HILDA.
No thank you--I am not so mad as that.
MRS. SOLNESS.
When you and Miss Wangel
are alone, I daresay she will tell you,
Halvard.
SOLNESS.
Ah--you think she will?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, certainly. For you
have known her so well in the past. Ever
since she was a child--you tell me.
[She goes out by the door on the left.
HILDA.
[After a little while.] Does your wife dislike me very much?
SOLNESS.
Did you think you noticed anything of the kind?
HILDA.
Did you notice it yourself?
SOLNESS.
[Evasively.] Aline has become
exceedingly shy with strangers of
late years.
HILDA.
Has she really?
SOLNESS.
But if only you could get
to know her thoroughly---! Ah, she is so
good--so kind--so excellent a creature---
HILDA.
[Impatiently.] But if she
is all that--what made her say that about
her duty?
SOLNESS.
Her duty?
HILDA.
She said that she would
go out and buy something for me, because it
was her duty. Oh, I can't bear that ugly, horrid word!
SOLNESS.
Why not?
HILDA.
It sounds so could and sharp,
and stinging. Duty--duty--duty. Don't
you think so, too? Doesn't it seem to sting you?
SOLNESS.
H'm--haven't thought much about it.
HILDA.
Yes, it does. And if she
is so good--as you say she is--why should
she talk in that way?
SOLNESS.
But, good Lord, what would you have had her say, then?
HILDA.
She might have said she
would do it because she had taken a
tremendous fancy to me. She might have said something like that--
something really warm and cordial, you understand.
SOLNESS.
[Looks at her.] Is that how you would like to have it?
HILDA.
Yes, precisely. [She wanders
about the room, stops at the bookcase
and looks at the books.] What a lot of books you have.
SOLNESS.
Yes, I have got together a good many.
HILDA.
Do you read them all, too?
SOLNESS.
I used to try to. Do you read much?
HILDA.
No, never! I have given it up. For it all seems so irrelevant.
SOLNESS.
That is just my feeling.
[HILDA wanders about a little, stops at the small table, opens
the portfolio and turns over the contents.
HILDA.
Are all these your drawings yours?
SOLNESS.
No, they are drawn by a young man whom I employ to help me.
HILDA.
Some one you have taught?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, no doubt he has learnt something from me, too.
HILDA.
[Sits down.] Then I suppose
he is very clever. [Looks at a
drawing.] Isn't he?
SOLNESS.
Oh, he might be worse. For my purpose---
HILDA.
Oh yes--I'm sure he is frightfully clever.
SOLNESS.
Do you think you can see that in the drawings?
HILDA.
Pooh--these scrawlings! But if he has been learning from you---
SOLNESS.
Oh, so far as that goes---there
are plenty of people here that have
learnt from me, and have come to little enough for all that.
HILDA.
[Looks at him and shakes
her head.] No, I can't for the life of me
understand how you can be so stupid.
SOLNESS.
Stupid? Do you think I am so very stupid?
HILDA.
Yes, I do indeed. If you
are content to go about here teaching all
these people---
SOLNESS.
[With a slight start.] Well, and why not?
HILDA.
[Rises, half serious, half
laughing.] No indeed, Mr. Solness! What
can be the good of that? No one but you should be allowed to build.
You should stand quite alone--do it all yourself. Now you know it.
SOLNESS.
[Involuntarily.] Hilda---!
HILDA.
Well!
SOLNESS.
How in the world did that come into your head?
HILDA.
Do you think I am so very far wrong then?
SOLNESS.
No, that's not what I mean. But now I'll tell you something.
HILDA.
Well?
SOLNESS.
I keep on--incessantly--in
silence and alone--brooding on that very
thought.
HILDA.
Yes, that seems to me perfectly natural.
SOLNESS.
[Looks somewhat searchingly
at her.] Perhaps you have noticed it
already?
HILDA.
No, indeed I haven't.
SOLNESS.
But just now--when you said
you thought I was--off my balance? In
one thing, you said---
HILDA.
Oh, I was thinking of something quite different.
SOLNESS.
What was it?
HILDA.
I am not going to tell you.
SOLNESS.
[Crosses the room.] Well,
well--as you please. [Stops at the bow-
window.] Come here, and I will show you something.
HILDA.
[Approaching.] What is it?
SOLNESS.
Do you see over here in the garden---?
HILDA.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
[Points.] Right above the great quarry---?
HILDA.
That new house, you mean?
SOLNESS.
The one that is being built, yes. Almost finished.
HILDA.
It seems to have a very high tower.
SOLNESS.
The scaffolding is still up.
HILDA.
Is that your new house?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
The house you are soon going to move into?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
[Looks at him.] Are there nurseries in that house, too?
SOLNESS.
Three, as there are here.
HILDA.
And no child.
SOLNESS.
And there never will be one.
HILDA.
[With a half-smile.] Well, isn't it just as I said---?
SOLNESS.
That---?
HILDA.
That you are a little--a little mad after all.
SOLNESS.
Was that what you were thinking of?
HILDA.
Yes, of all the empty nurseries I slept in.
SOLNESS.
[Lowers his voice.] We have had children--Aline and I.
HILDA.
[Looks eagerly at him.] Have you---?
SOLNESS.
Two little boys. They were of the same age.
HILDA.
Twins, then.
SOLNESS.
Yes, twins. It's eleven or twelve years ago now.
HILDA.
[Cautiously.] And so both
of them---? You have lost both the
twins, then?
SOLNESS.
[With quiet emotion.] We
kept them only about three weeks. Or
scarcely so much. [Bursts forth.] Oh, Hilda, I can't tell you
what a good thing it is for me that you have come! For now at
last I have some one to talk to!
HILDA.
Can you not talk to--her, too?
SOLNESS.
Not about this. Not as I
want to talk and must talk. [Gloomily.]
And not about so many other things, either.
HILDA.
[In a subdued voice.] Was
that all you meant when you said you
need me?
SOLNESS.
That was mainly what I meant--at
all events, yesterday. For to-day
I am not so sure--[Breaking off.] Come here and let us sit down,
Hilda. Sit there on the sofa--so that you can look into the garden.
[HILDA seats herself in the corner of the sofa. SOLNESS brings a
chair closer.] Should you like to hear about it?
HILDA.
Yes, I shall love to sit and listen to you.
SOLNESS.
[Sits down.] Then I will tell you all about it.
HILDA.
Now I can see both the garden
and you, Mr. Solness. So now, tell
away! Begin!
SOLNESS.
[Points towards the bow-window.]
Out there on the rising ground--
where you see the new house---
HILDA.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
Aline and I lived there
in the first years of our married life.
There was an old house up there that had belonged to her mother;
and we inherited it, and the whole of the great garden with it.
HILDA.
Was there a tower on that house, too?
SOLNESS.
No, nothing of the kind.
From the outside it looked like a great,
dark, ugly wooden box; but all the same, it was snug and comfortable
enough inside.
HILDA.
Then did you pull down the ramshackle old place?
SOLNESS.
No, it was burnt down.
HILDA.
The whole of it?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
Was that a great misfortune for you?
SOLNESS.
That depends on how you
look at it. As a builder, the fire was the
making of me---
HILDA.
Well, but---
SOLNESS.
It was just after the birth of the two little boys---
HILDA.
The poor little twins, yes.
SOLNESS.
They came healthy and bonny
into the world. And they were growing
too--you could see the difference day to day.
HILDA.
Little children do grow quickly at first.
SOLNESS.
It was the prettiest sight
in the world to see Aline lying with the
two of them in her arms.--But then came the night of the fire---
HILDA.
[Excitedly.] What happened? Do tell me! Was any one burnt?
SOLNESS.
No, not that. Every one got safe and sound out of the house---
HILDA.
Well, and what then---?
SOLNESS.
The fright had shaken Aline
terribly. The alarm--the escape--the
break-neck hurry--and then the ice-cold night air--for they had to
be carried out just as they lay--both she and the little ones.
HILDA.
Was it too much for them?
SOLNESS.
Oh no, they stood it well
enough. But Aline fell into a fever, and
it affected her milk. She would insist on nursing them herself;
because it was her duty, she said. And both our little boys, they--
[Clenching his hands.]--they--oh!
HILDA.
They did not get over that?
SOLNESS.
No, that they did not get over. That was how we lost them.
HILDA.
It must have been terribly hard for you.
SOLNESS.
Hard enough for me; but
ten time harder for Aline. [Clenching his
hands in suppressed fury.] Oh, that such things should be allowed
to happen here the world! [Shortly and firmly.] From the day I
lost them, I had no heart for building churches.
HILDA.
Did you not like building the church-tower in our town?
SOLNESS.
I didn't like it. I know
how free and happy I felt when that tower
was finished.
HILDA.
_I_ know that, too.
SOLNESS.
And now I shall never--never
build anything of that sort again!
Neither churches nor church-towers.
HILDA.
[Nods slowly.] Nothing but houses for people to live in.
SOLNESS.
Homes for human beings, Hilda.
HILDA.
But homes with high towers and pinnacles upon them.
SOLNESS.
If possible. [Adopts a lighter
tone.] But, as I said before, that
fire was the making of me--as a builder, I mean.
HILDA.
Why don't you call yourself an architect, like the others?
SOLNESS.
I have not been systematically
enough taught for that. Most of what
I know I have found out for myself.
HILDA.
But you succeeded all the same.
SOLNESS.
Yes, thanks to the fire.
I laid out almost the whole of the garden
in villa lots; and there I was able to build after my own heart. So
I came to the front with a rush.
HILDA.
[Looks keenly at him.] You
must surely be a very happy man, as
matters stand with you.
SOLNESS.
[Gloomily.] Happy? Do you say that, too--like all the rest of them?
HILDA.
Yes, I should say you must
be. If you could only cease thing about
the two little children---
SOLNESS.
[Slowly.] The two little
children--they are not so easy to forget,
Hilda.
HILDA.
[Somewhat uncertainly.]
Do you still feel their loss so much--after
all these years?
SOLNESS.
[Looks fixedly at her, without replying.] A happy man you said---
HILDA.
Well, now, are you not happy--in other respects?
SOLNESS.
[Continues to look at her.]
When I told you all this about the fire--
h'm---
HILDA.
Well?
SOLNESS.
Was there not one special thought that you--that you seized upon?
HILDA.
[Reflects in vain.] No. What thought should that be?
SOLNESS.
[With subdued emphasis.]
It was simply and solely by that fire that
I was enabled to build homes for human beings. Cosy, comfortable,
bright homes, where father and mother and the whole troop of children
can live in safety and gladness, feeling what a happy thing it is to
be alive in the world--and most of all to belong to each other--in
great things and in small.
HILDA.
[Ardently.] Well, and is
it not a great happiness for you to be able
to build such beautiful homes?
SOLNESS.
The price, Hilda! The terrible price I had to pay for the opportunity!
HILDA.
But can you never get over that?
SOLNESS.
No. That I might build homes
for others, I had to forego--to forego
for all time--the home that might have been my own. I mean a home
for a troop of children--and for father and mother, too.
HILDA.
[Cautiously.] But need you have done that? For all time, you say?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] That was
the price of this happiness that people talk
about. [Breathes heavily.] This happiness--h'm--this happiness was
not to be bought any cheaper, Hilda.
HILDA.
[As before.] But may it not come right even yet?
SOLNESS.
Never in this world--never.
That is another consequence of the fire--
and of Aline's illness afterwards.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with an indefinable
expression.] And yet you build all
these nurseries.
SOLNESS.
[Seriously.] Have you never
noticed, Hilda, how the impossible--how
it seems to beckon and cry aloud to one?
HILDA.
[Reflecting.] The impossible?
[With animation.] Yes, indeed! Is
that how you feel too?
SOLNESS.
Yes, I do.
HILDA.
Then there must be--a little of the troll in you too.
SOLNESS.
Why of the troll?
HILDA.
What would you call it, then?
SOLNESS.
[Rises.] Well, well, perhaps
you are right. [Vehemently.] But how
can I help turning into a troll, when this is how it always goes with
me in everything--in everything!
HILDA.
How do you mean?
SOLNESS.
[Speaking low, with inward
emotion.] Mark what I say to you, Hilda.
All that I have succeeded in doing, building, creating--all the
beauty, security, cheerful comfort--ay, and magnificence too--
[Clenches his hands.] Oh, is it not terrible even to think of---?
HILDA.
What is so terrible?
SOLNESS.
That all this I have to
make up for, to pay for--not in money, but
in human happiness. And not with my own happiness only, but with
other people's too. Yes, yes, do you see that, Hilda? That is the
price which my position as an artist has cost me--and others. And
every single day I have to look on while the price is paid for me
anew. Over again, and over again--and over again for ever!
HILDA.
[Rises and looks steadily
at him.] Now I can see that you are
thinking of--of her.
SOLNESS.
Yes, mainly of Aline. For
Aline--she, too, had her vocation in life,
just as much as I had mine. [His voice quivers.] But her vocation
has had to be stunted, and crushed, and shattered--in order that mine
might force its way to--to a sort of great victory. For you must
know that Aline--she, too, had a talent for building.
HILDA.
She! For building?
SOLNESS.
[Shakes his head.] Not houses
and towers, and spires--not such things
as I work away at---
HILDA.
Well, but what then?
SOLNESS.
[Softly, with emotion.]
For building up the souls of little children,
Hilda. For building up children's souls in perfect balance, and in
noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect
and full-grown human souls. That was Aline's talent. And there it
all lies now--unused and unusable for ever--of no earthly service
to any one--just like the ruins left by a fire.
HILDA.
Yes, but even if this were so---?
SOLNESS.
It is so! It is so! I know it!
HILDA.
Well, but in any case it is not your fault.
SOLNESS.
[Fixes his eyes on her,
and nods slowly.] Ah, that is the great, the
terrible question. That is the doubt that is gnawing me--night and
day.
HILDA.
That?
SOLNESS.
Yes. Suppose the fault was mine--in a certain sense.
HILDA.
Your fault! The fire!
SOLNESS.
All of it; the whole thing.
And yet, perhaps--I may not have had
anything to do with it.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with a troubled
expression.] Oh, Mr. Solness--if you
can talk like that, I am afraid you must be--ill after all.
SOLNESS.
H'm--I don't think I shall ever be of quite sound mind on that point.
RAGNAR BROVIK cautiously opens the little door in the left-
hand corner. HILDA comes forward.
RAGNAR.
[When he sees Hilda.] Oh.
I beg pardon, Mr. Solness--- [He makes
a movement to withdraw.
SOLNESS.
No, no, don't go. Let us get it over.
RAGNAR.
Oh, yes--if only we could.
SOLNESS.
I hear your father is no better?
RAGNAR.
Father is fast growing weaker--and
therefore I beg and implore you
to write a few kind words for me on one of the plans! Something for
father to read before he---
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] I won't hear
anything more about those drawings of
yours!
RAGNAR.
Have you looked at them?
SOLNESS.
Yes--I have.
RAGNAR.
And they are good for nothing? And _I_ am good for nothing, too?
SOLNESS.
[Evasively.] Stay here with
me, Ragnar. You shall have everything
your own way. And then you can marry Kaia, and live at your ease--
and happily too, who knows? Only don't think of building on your
own account.
RAGNAR.
Well, well, then I must
go home and tell father what you say--I
promised I would.--Is this what I am to tell father--before he dies?
SOLNESS.
[With a groan.] Oh tell
him--tell him what you will, for me. Best
to say nothing at all to him! [With a sudden outburst.] I cannot do
anything else, Ragnar!
RAGNAR.
May I have the drawings to take with me?
SOLNESS.
Yes, take them--take them
by all means! They are lying there on the
table.
RAGNAR.
[Goes to the table.] Thanks.
HILDA.
[Puts her hand on the portfolio.] No, no; leave them here.
SOLNESS.
Why?
HILDA.
Because I want to look at them, too.
SOLNESS.
But you have been--- [To RAGNAR.] Well, leave them here, then.
RAGNAR.
Very well.
SOLNESS.
And go home at once to your father.
RAGNAR.
Yes, I suppose I must.
SOLNESS.
[As if in desperation.]
Ragnar--you must not ask me to do what is
beyond my power! Do you hear, Ragnar? You must not!
RAGNAR.
No, no. I beg you pardon---
[He bows, and goes out by the corner door. HILDA goes over and
sits down on a chair near the mirror.
HILDA.
[Looks angrily at SOLNESS.] That was a very ugly thing to do.
SOLNESS.
Do you think so, too?
HILDA.
Yes, it was horribly ugly--and hard and bad and cruel as well.
SOLNESS.
Oh, you don't understand my position.
HILDA.
No matter---. I say you ought not to be like that.
SOLNESS.
You said yourself, only
just now, that no one but _I_ ought to be
allowed to build.
HILDA.
_I_ may say such things--but you must not.
SOLNESS.
I most of all, surely, who have paid so dear for my position.
HILDA.
Oh yes--with what you call domestic comfort--and that sort of thing.
SOLNESS.
And with my peace of soul into the bargain.
HILDA.
[Rising.] Peace of soul!
[With feeling.] Yes, yes, you are right
in that! Poor Mr. Solness--you fancy that---
SOLNESS.
[With a quiet, chuckling
laugh.] Just sit down again, Hilda, and
I'll tell you something funny.
HILDA.
[Sits down; with intent interest.] Well?
SOLNESS.
It sounds such a ludicrous
little thing; for, you see, the whole
story turns upon nothing but a crack in the chimney.
HILDA.
No more than that?
SOLNESS.
No, not to begin with.
[He moves a chair nearer to HILDA and sits down.
HILDA.
[Impatiently, taps on her
knee.] Well, now for the crack in the
chimney!
SOLNESS.
I had noticed the split
in the flue long, long before the fire.
Every time I went up into the attic, I looked to see if it was
still there.
HILDA.
And it was?
SOLNESS.
Yes; for no one else knew about it.
HILDA.
And you said nothing?
SOLNESS.
Nothing.
HILDA.
And did not think of repairing the flue either?
SOLNESS.
Oh yes, I thought about
it--but never got any further. Every time
I intended to set to work, it seemed just as if a hand held me back.
Not to-day, I thought--to-morrow; and nothing ever came of it.
HILDA.
But why did you keep putting it off like that?
SOLNESS.
Because I was revolving
something in my mind. [Slowly, and in a low
voice.] Through that little black crack in the chimney, I might,
perhaps, force my way upwards--as a builder.
HILDA.
[Looking straight in front of her.] That must have been thrilling.
SOLNESS.
Almost irresistible--quite
irresistible. For at that time it
appeared to me a perfectly simple and straightforward matter. I
would have had it happen in the winter-time--a little before midday.
I was to be out driving Aline in the sleigh. The servants at home
would have made huge fires in the stoves.
HILDA.
For, of course, it was to be bitterly cold that day?
SOLNESS.
Rather biting, yes--and
they would want Aline to find it thoroughly
snug and warm when she came home.
HILDA.
I suppose she is very chilly by nature?
SOLNESS.
She is. And as we drove home, we were to see the smoke.
HILDA.
Only the smoke?
SOLNESS.
The smoke first. But when
we came up to the garden gate, the whole
of the old timber-box was to be a rolling mass of flames.--That is
how I wanted it to be, you see.
HILDA.
Oh, why, why could it not have happened so!
SOLNESS.
You may well say that, Hilda.
HILDA.
Well, but now listen, Mr.
Solness. Are you perfectly certain that
the fire was caused by that little crack in the chimney!
SOLNESS.
No, on the contrary--I am
perfectly certain that the crack in the
chimney had nothing whatever to do with the fire.
HILDA.
What!
SOLNESS.
It has been clearly ascertained
that the fire broke out in a clothes-
cupboard--in a totally different part of the house.
HILDA.
Then what is all this nonsense
you are talking about the crack in
the chimney!
SOLNESS.
May I go on talking to you a little, Hilda?
HILDA.
Yes, if you'll only talk sensibly---
SOLNESS.
I will try to. [He moves his chair nearer.
HILDA.
Out with it, then, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
[Confidentially.] Don't
you agree with me, Hilda, that there exist
special, chosen people who have been endowed with the power and
faculty if desiring a thing, craving for a thing, willing a thing--
so persistently and so--so inexorably--that at last it has to happen?
Don't you believe that?
HILDA.
[With an indefinable expression
in her eyes.] If that is so, we
shall see, one of these days, whether _I_ am one of the chosen.
SOLNESS.
It is not one's self alone
that can do such great things. Oh, no--
the helpers and the servers--they must do their part too, if it is
to be of any good. But they never come of themselves. One has to
call upon them very persistently--inwardly, you understand.
HILDA.
What are these helpers and servers?
SOLNESS.
Oh, we can talk about that
some other time. For the present, let us
keep to this business of the fire.
HILDA.
Don't you think that fire
would have happened all the same--even
without your wishing for it?
SOLNESS.
If the house had been old
Knut Brovik's, it would never have burnt
down so conveniently for him. I am sure of that; for he does not
know how to call for the helpers--no, nor for the servers, either.
[Rises in unrest.] So you see, Hilda--it is my fault, after all,
that the lives of the two little boys had to be sacrificed. And do
you think it is not my fault, too, that Aline has never been the
woman she should and might have been--and that she most longed to be?
HILDA.
Yes, but if it is all the work of these helpers and servers---?
SOLNESS.
Who called for the helpers
and servers? It was I! And they came
and obeyed my will. [In increasing excitement.] That is what people
call having the luck on your side; but I must tell you what this
sort of luck feels like! It feels like a great raw place here on
my breast. And the helpers and servers keep on flaying pieces of
skin off other people in order to close my sore!--But still the sore
is not healed--never, never! Oh, if you knew how it can sometimes
gnaw and burn!
HILDA.
[Looks attentively at him.]
You are ill, Mr. Solness. Very ill, I
almost think.
SOLNESS.
Say mad; for that is what you mean.
HILDA.
No, I don't think there is much amiss with your intellect.
SOLNESS.
With what then? Out with it!
HILDA.
I wonder whether you were
not sent into the world with a sickly
conscience.
SOLNESS.
A sickly conscience? What devilry is that?
HILDA.
I mean that your conscience
is feeble--too delicately built, as it
were--hasn't strength to take a grip of things--to lift and bear
what is heavy.
SOLNESS.
[Growls.] H'm! May I ask,
then, what sort of a conscience one ought
to have?
HILDA.
I should like your conscience to be--to be thoroughly robust.
SOLNESS.
Indeed? Robust, eh? Is your own conscience robust, may I ask?
HILDA.
Yes, I think it is. I have never noticed that it wasn't.
SOLNESS.
It has not been put very severely to the test, I should think.
HILDA.
[With a quivering of the
lips.] Oh, it was no such simple matter to
leave father--I am so awfully fond of him.
SOLNESS.
Dear me! for a month or two---
HILDA.
I think I shall never go home again.
SOLNESS.
Never? Then why did you leave him?
HILDA.
[Half-seriously, half-banteringly.]
Have you forgotten again that
the ten year are up?
SOLNESS.
Oh nonsense. Was anything wrong at home? Eh?
HILDA.
[Quite seriously.] It was
this impulse within me that urged and
goaded me to come--and lured and drew me on, as well.
SOLNESS.
[Eagerly.] There we have
it! There we have it, Hilda! There is
the troll in you too, as in me. For it's the troll in one, you
see--it is that that calls to the powers outside us. And then you
must give in--whether you will or no.
HILDA.
I almost think you are right, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
[Walks about the room.]
Oh, there are devils innumerable abroad in
the world, Hilda, that one never sees.
HILDA.
Devils, too?
SOLNESS.
[Stops.] Good devils and
bad devils; light-haired devils and black-
haired devils. If only you could always tell whether it is the light
or dark ones that have got hold of you! [Paces about.] Ho-ho! Then
it would be simple enough!
HILDA.
[Follows him with her eyes.]
Or if one had a really vigorous,
radiantly healthy conscience--so that one dared to do what one
would.
SOLNESS.
[Stops beside the console
table.] I believe, now, that most people
are just as puny creatures as I am in that respect.
HILDA.
I shouldn't wonder.
SOLNESS.
[Leaning against the table.]
In the sagas---. Have you read any
of the old sagas?
HILDA.
Oh yes! When I used to read books, I---
SOLNESS.
In the sagas you read about
vikings, who sailed to foreign lands, and
plundered and burned and killed men---
HILDA.
And carried off women---
SOLNESS.
---and kept them in captivity---
HILDA.
---took them home in their ships---
SOLNESS.
---and behaved to them like--like the very worst of trolls.
HILDA.
[Looks straight before her,
with a half-veiled look.] I think that
must have been thrilling.
SOLNESS.
[With a short, deep laugh.] To carry off women, eh?
HILDA.
To be carried off.
SOLNESS.
[Looks at her a moment.] Oh, indeed.
HILDA.
[As if breaking the thread
of the conversation.] But what made you
speak of these vikings, Mr. Solness?
SOLNESS.
Why, those fellows must
have had robust consciences, if you like!
When they got home again, they could eat and drink, and be as happy
as children. And the women, too! They often would not leave them
on any account. Can you understand that, Hilda?
HILDA.
Those women I can understand exceedingly well.
SOLNESS.
Oho! Perhaps you could do the same yourself?
HILDA.
Why not?
SOLNESS.
Live--of your own free will--with a ruffian like that?
HILDA.
If it was a ruffian I had come to love---
SOLNESS.
Could you come to love a man like that?
HILDA.
Good heavens, you know very
well one can't choose whom one is going
to love.
SOLNESS.
[Looks meditatively at her.]
Oh no, I suppose it is the troll within
one that's responsible for that.
HILDA.
[Half-laughing.] And all
those blessed devils, that you know so
well--both the light-haired and the dark-haired ones.
SOLNESS.
[Quietly and warmly.] Then
I hope with all my heart that the devils
will choose carefully for you, Hilda.
HILDA.
For me they have chosen already--once and for all.
SOLNESS.
[Looks earnestly at her.]
Hilda--you are like a wild bird of the
woods.
HILDA.
Far from it. I don't hide myself away under the bushes.
SOLNESS.
No, no. There is rather something of the bird of prey in you.
HILDA.
That is nearer it--perhaps.
[Very vehemently.] And why not a bird
of prey? Why should not _I_ go a-hunting--I, as well as the rest?
Carry off the prey I want--if only I can get my claws into it, and
do with it as I will.
SOLNESS.
Hilda--do you know what you are?
HILDA.
Yes, I suppose I am a strange sort of bird.
SOLNESS.
No. You are like a dawning
day. When I look at you--I seem to be
looking towards the sunrise.
HILDA.
Tell me, Mr. Solness--are
you certain that you have never called me
to you? Inwardly, you know?
SOLNESS.
[Softly and slowly.] I almost think I must have.
HILDA.
What did you want with me?
SOLNESS.
You are the younger generation, Hilda.
HILDA.
[Smiles.] That younger generation that you are so afraid of?
SOLNESS.
[Nods slowly.] And which,
in my heart, I yearn towards so deeply.
[HILDA rises, goes to the little table, and fetches RAGNAR
BROVIK'S portfolio.
HILDA.
[Holds out the portfolio to him.] We were talking of these drawings---
SOLNESS.
[Shortly, waving them away.]
Put those things away! I have seen
enough of them.
HILDA.
Yes, but you have to write your approval on them.
SOLNESS.
Write my approval on them? Never!
HILDA.
But the poor old man is
lying at death's door! Can't you give him
and his son this pleasure before they are parted? And perhaps he
might get the commission to carry them out, too.
SOLNESS.
Yes, that is just what he
would get. He has made sure of that--has
my fine gentleman!
HILDA.
Then, good heavens--if that
is so--can't you tell the least little
bit of a lie for once in a way?
SOLNESS.
A lie? [Raging.] Hilda--take those devil's drawings out of my sight!
HILDA.
[Draws the portfolio a little
nearer to herself.] Well, well, well
--don't bite me.--You talk of trolls--but I think you go on like a
troll yourself. [Looks round.] Where do you keep your pen and ink?
SOLNESS.
There is nothing of the sort in here.
HILDA.
[Goes towards the door.]
But in the office where that young lady
is---
SOLNESS.
Stay where you are, Hilda!--I
ought to tell a lie, you say. Oh yes,
for the sake of his old father I might well do that--for in my time
I have crushed him, trodden him under foot---
HILDA.
Him, too?
SOLNESS.
I needed room for myself.
But this Ragnar--he must on no account be
allowed to come to the front.
HILDA.
Poor fellow, there is surely
no fear of that. If he has nothing in
him---
SOLNESS.
[Comes closer, looks at
her, and whispers.] If Ragnar Brovik gets
his chance, he will strike me to the earth. Crush me--as I crushed
his father.
HILDA.
Crush you? Has he the ability for that?
SOLNESS.
Yes, you may depend upon
it he has the ability! He is the younger
generation that stands ready to knock at my door--to make an end of
Halvard Solness.
HILDA.
[Looks at him with quiet
reproach.] And yet you would bar him out.
Fie, Mr. Solness!
SOLNESS.
The fight I have been fighting
has cost heart's blood enough.--And
I am afraid, too, that the helpers and servers will not obey me any
longer.
HILDA.
Then you must go ahead without them. There is nothing else for it.
SOLNESS.
It is hopeless, Hilda. The
luck is bound to turn. A little sooner
or a little later. Retribution is inexorable.
HILDA.
[In distress, putting her
hands over her ears.] Don't talk like
that! Do you want to kill me? To take from me what is more than
my life?
SOLNESS.
And what is that?
HILDA.
The longing to see you great.
To see you, with a wreath in your
hand, high, high up upon a church-tower. [Calm again.] Come, out
with your pencil now. You must have a pencil about you?
SOLNESS.
[Takes out his pocket-book.] I have one here.
HILDA.
[Lays the portfolio on the
sofa-table.] Very well. Now let us two
sit down here, Mr. Solness. [SOLNESS seats himself at the table.
HILDA stands behind him, leaning over the back of the chair.] And
now we well write on the drawings. We must write very, very nicely
and cordially--for this horrid Ruar--or whatever his name is.
SOLNESS.
[Writes a few words, turns
his head and looks at her.] Tell me one
thing, Hilda.
HILDA.
Yes!
SOLNESS.
If you have been waiting for me all these ten years---
HILDA.
What then?
SOLNESS.
Why have you never written to me? Then I could have answered you.
HILDA.
[Hastily.] No, no, no! That was just what I did not want.
SOLNESS.
Why not?
HILDA.
I was afraid the whole thing
might fall to pieces.--But we were
going to write on the drawings, Mr. Solness.
SOLNESS.
So we were.
HILDA.
[Bends forward and looks
over his shoulder while he writes.] Mind
now, kindly and cordially! Oh how I hate--how I hate this Ruald---
SOLNESS.
[Writing.] Have you never really cared for any one, Hilda?
HILDA.
For any one else, I suppose you mean?
SOLNESS.
[Looks up at her.] For any
one else, yes. Have you never? In all
these ten years? Never?
HILDA.
Oh yes, now and then. When
I was perfectly furious with you for not
coming.
SOLNESS.
Then you did take an interest in other people, too?
HILDA.
A little bit--for a week
or so. Good heavens, Mr. Solness, you
surely know how such things come about.
SOLNESS.
Hilda--what is it you have come for?
HILDA.
Don't waste time talking.
The poor old man might go and die in the
meantime.
SOLNESS.
Answer me, Hilda. What do you want of me?
HILDA.
I want my kingdom.
SOLNESS.
H'm---
He gives a rapid glance toward the door on the left, and
then goes on writing on the drawings. At the same moment
MRS. SOLNESS enters.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Here are a few things I
have got for you, Miss Wangel. The large
parcels will be sent later on.
HILDA.
Oh, how very, very kind of you!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Only my simple duty. Nothing more than that.
SOLNESS.
[Reading over what he has written.] Aline!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes?
SOLNESS.
Did you notice whether the--the book-keeper was out there?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, of course, she was there.
SOLNESS.
[Puts the drawings in the portfolio.] H'm---
MRS. SOLNESS.
She was standing at the
desk, as she always is--when _I_ go through
the room.
SOLNESS.
[Rises.] Then I'll give this to her and tell her that---
HILDA.
[Takes the portfolio from
him.] Oh, no, let me have the pleasure of
doing that! [Goes to the door, but turns.] What is her name?
SOLNESS.
Her name is Miss Fosli.
HILDA.
Pooh, that sounds so cold! Her Christian name, I mean?
SOLNESS.
Kaia--I believe.
HILDA.
[Opens the door and calls
out.] Kaia, come in here! Make haste!
Mr. Solness wants to speak to you.
KAIA FOSLI appears at the door.
KAIA.
[Looking at him in alarm.] Here I am---?
HILDA.
[Handing her the portfolio.]
See her, Kaia! You can take this home;
Mr. Solness was written on them now.
KAIA.
Oh, at last!
SOLNESS.
Give them to the old man as soon as you can.
KAIA.
I will go straight home with them.
SOLNESS.
Yes, do. Now Ragnar will have a chance of building for himself.
KAIA.
Oh, may he come and thank you for all---?
SOLNESS.
[Harshly.] I won't have any thanks! Tell him that from me.
KAIA.
Yes, I will---
SOLNESS.
And tell him at the same
time that henceforward I do not require his
services--nor yours either.
KAIA.
[Softly and quiveringly.] Not mine either?
SOLNESS.
You will have other things
to think of now, and to attend to; and
that is a very good thing for you. Well, go home with the drawings
now, Miss Fosli. At once! Do you hear?
KAIA.
[As before.] Yes, Mr. Solness. [She goes out.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Heavens! what deceitful eyes she has.
SOLNESS.
She? That poor little creature?
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh--I can see what I can
see, Halvard.--- Are you really dismissing
them?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
MRS. SOLNESS.
Her as well?
SOLNESS.
Was not that what you wished?
MRS. SOLNESS.
But how can you get on without
her---? Oh well, no doubt you have
some one else in reserve, Halvard.
HILDA.
[Playfully.] Well, _I_ for one am not the person to stand at a desk.
SOLNESS.
Never mind, never mind--it
will be all right, Aline. Now all you
have to do is think about moving into our new home--as quickly as
you can. This evening we will hang up the wreath--[Turns to HILDA.]
What do you say to that, Miss Hilda?
HILDA.
[Looks at him with sparkling
eyes.] It will be splendid to see you
so high up once more.
SOLNESS.
Me!
MRS. SOLNESS.
For Heaven's sake, Miss
Wangel, don't imagine such a thing! My
husband!--when he always gets so dizzy!
HILDA.
He get dizzy! No, I know quite well he does not!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh yes, indeed he does.
HILDA.
But I have seen him with
my own eyes right up at the top of a high
church-tower!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Yes, I hear people talk of that; but it is utterly impossible---
SOLNESS.
[Vehemently.] Impossible--impossible,
yes! But there I stood all
the same!
MRS. SOLNESS.
O, how can you say so, Halvard?
Why, you can't even bear to go out
on the second-storey balcony here. You have always been like that.
SOLNESS.
You may perhaps see something different this evening.
MRS. SOLNESS.
[In alarm.] No, no, no!
Please God I shall never see that. I will
write at once to the doctor--and I am sure he won't let you do it.
SOLNESS.
Why, Aline---!
MRS. SOLNESS.
Oh, you know you're ill,
Halvard. This proves it! Oh God--Oh God!
[She goes hastily out to the right.
HILDA.
[Looks intently at him.] Is it so, or is it not?
SOLNESS.
That I turn dizzy?
HILDA.
That my master builder dares not--cannot--climb as high as he builds?
SOLNESS.
Is that the way you look at it?
HILDA.
Yes.
SOLNESS.
I believe there is scarcely a corner in me that is safe from you.
HILDA.
[Looks towards the bow-window.] Up there, then. Right up there---
SOLNESS.
[Approaches her.] You might
have the topmost room in the tower,
Hilda--there you might live like a princess.
HILDA.
[Indefinably, between earnest
and jest.] Yes, that is what you
promised me.
SOLNESS.
Did I really?
HILDA.
Fie, Mr. Solness! You said
I should be a princess, and that you
would give me a kingdom. And then you went and---Well!
SOLNESS.
[Cautiously.] Are you quite
certain that this is not a dream--a
fancy, that has fixed itself in your mind?
HILDA.
[Sharply.] Do you mean that you did not do it?
SOLNESS.
I scarcely know myself.
[More softly.] But now I know so much for
certain, that I---
HILDA.
That you---? Say it at once!
SOLNESS.
---that I ought to have done it.
HILDA.
[Exclaims with animation.] Don't tell me you can ever be dizzy!
SOLNESS.
This evening, then, we will hang up the wreath--Princess Hilda.
HILDA.
[With a bitter curve of the lips.] Over your new home, yes.
SOLNESS.
Over the new house, which
will never be a home for me.
[He goes out through the garden door.
HILDA.
[Looks straight in front
of her with a far-away expression, and
whispers to herself. The only words audible are:]---frightfully
thrilling--
Introduction | Act: First | Second | Third
