NORA'S RESOLVE.' BY HENRIK IBSEN. (From "A Doll's House.") [HENRIK IBSEN, Norwegian poet and dramatist, was born at Skien, South Norway, March 20, 1828. After serving an apprenticeship to an apothecary, he went to the University of Christiania to study medicine, but drifted into journalism, and later engaged in theatrical management, being director of Ole Bull's National Theater at Bergen (1852-1857) and of the Norwegian Theater at Christiania (1857-1862). About 1864 he left Norway in a sort of voluntary exile, because his country refused to aid Denmark in its struggle with the Germans, and remained abroad until 1891, residing chiefly in Rome, Dresden, and Munich. His first notable works, the lyric drama "Brand" and the dramatic poem "Peer Gynt," were written in Italy (1866-1867). "Emperor and Galilean," an historical drama, appeared in 1871, and since 1877 the famous series of social plays, which have excited so much controversy: "Pillars of Society,' "A Doll's House," "Ghosts," ," "An Enemy of the People," "The Wild Duck," Rosmersholm," "The Lady from the Sea," "Hedda Gabler," "The Master Builder," "Little Eyolf," and "John Gabriel Borkman," most of which have been played in Germany, England, and the United States.] Present: NORA and HELMER. HELMER takes his bunch of keys from his pocket and goes into the hall. Nora - Torvald, what are you doing there? Helmer-I must empty the letter box, it's quite full; there will be no room for the newspapers to-morrow morning. Nora Are you going to work to-night? think that the servants it's one of yours. Why, what's this? Some one's What does it mean? I can't Here's a broken hairpin. Nora Hm, Nora [quickly] - It must have been the children. Helmer-Then you must break them of such tricks. hm! There! At last I've got it open. [Takes contents out and calls into the kitchen.] Ellen, Ellen, just put the hall door lamp out. [He returns with letters in his hand, and shuts the inner door.] Just see how they've accumulated. [Turning them over.] Why, what's this? Nora [at the window] — The letter! Oh no, no, Torvald ! Helmer Two visiting cards-from Rank. Nora-From Dr. Rank? By permission of Walter Scott, Ltd. (Price 28.) Helmer [looking at them]-Dr. Rank. They were on the top. He must just have put them in. Nora Is there anything on them? - Helmer- There's a black cross over the name. What a horrid idea! his own death. Nora So he is. Helmer-What! you anything? Look at it. It looks just as if he were announcing Do you know anything? Has he told Nora - Yes. These cards mean that he has taken his last leave of us. He intends to shut himself up and die. Helmer-Poor fellow! Of course I knew we couldn't hope to keep him long. But so soon—and then to go and creep into his lair like a wounded animal Nora - What must be, must be, and the fewer words the better. Don't you think so, Torvald? Helmer [walking up and down]- He had so grown into our lives, I can't realize that he's gone. He and his sufferings and his loneliness formed a sort of cloudy background to the sunshine of our happiness. Well, perhaps it's best so at any rate for him. [Stands still.] And perhaps for us too, Nora. Now we two are thrown entirely upon each other. [Takes her in his arms.] My darling wife! I feel as if I could never hold you close enough. Do you know, Nora, I often wish some danger might threaten you, that I might risk body and soul, and everything, everything, for your dear sake. Nora [tears herself from him and says firmly] - Now you shall read your letters, Torvald. Helmer-No, no; not to-night. I want to be with you, sweet wife. Nora - With the thought of your dying friend? Helmer - You are right. This has shaken us both. Unloveliness has come between us-thoughts of death and decay. We must seek to cast them off. Till then we will remain apart. Nora [her arms round his neck] - Torvald! Good night, good night. Helmer [kissing her forehead] - Good night, my little bird. Sleep well, Nora. Now I'll go and read my letters. [He goes into his room and shuts the door. Nora [with wild eyes, gropes about her, seizes HELMER'S domino, throws it round her, and whispers quickly, hoarsely, and brokenly]-Never to see him again. Never, never, never. |