(SCENE.—DOCTOR WANGEL'S garden-room. Doors right and left. In the background, between the windows, an open glass door leading out on to the verandah. Below this, a portion of the garden is visible. A sofa and table down left. To the right a piano, and farther back a large flower-stand. In the middle of the room a round table, with chairs. On the table is a rose-tree in bloom, and other plants around it. Morning.

In the room, by the table, BOLETTE is sitting on the sofa, busy with some embroidery. LYNGSTRAND is seated on a chair at the upper end of the table. In the garden below BALLESTED sits painting. HILDE stands by watching him.)

LYNGSTRAND
(with his arms on the table, sits silent awhile, looking at BOLETTE'S work). It must be awfully difficult to do a border like that, Miss Wangel?

BOLETTE
Oh, no! It's not very difficult, if only you take care to count right.

LYNGSTRAND
To count? Must you count, too?

BOLETTE
Yes, the stitches. See!

LYNGSTRAND
So you do! Just fancy! Why, it's almost a kind of art. Can you design, too?

BOLETTE
Oh, yes! When I've a copy.

LYNGSTRAND
Not unless?

BOLETTE
No.
LYNGSTRAND
Well, then, after all, it's not a real art?

BOLETTE
No; it is rather only a sort of—handicraft.

LYNGSTRAND
But still, I think that perhaps you could learn art.

BOLETTE
If I haven't any talent?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes; if you could always be with a real true artist—

BOLETTE
Do you think, then, I could learn it from him?

LYNGSTRAND
Not exactly learn in the ordinary sense; but I think it would grow upon you little by little—by a kind of miracle as it were, Miss Wangel.

BOLETTE
That would be wonderful.

LYNGSTRAND
(after a pause). Have you ever thought about—I mean, have you ever thought deeply and earnestly about marriage, Miss Wangel?
BOLETTE
(looking quickly at him). About—no!

LYNGSTRAND
I have.

BOLETTE
Really? Have you?

LYNGSTRAND
Oh yes! I often think about things of that sort, especially about marriage; and, besides, I've read several books about it. I think marriage must be counted a sort of miracle—that a woman should gradually change until she is like her husband.

BOLETTE
You mean has like interests?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes, that's it.

BOLETTE
Well, but his abilities—his talents—and his skill?

LYNGSTRAND
Hm—well—I should like to know if all that too—

BOLETTE
Then, perhaps, you also believe that everything a man has read for himself, and thought out for himself, that this, too, can grow upon his wife?
LYNGSTRAND
Yes, I think it can. Little by little; as by a sort of miracle. But, of course, I know such things can only happen in a marriage that is faithful, and loving, and really happy.

BOLETTE
Has it never occurred to you that a man, too, might, perhaps, be thus drawn over to his wife? Grow like her, I mean.

LYNGSTRAND
A man? No, I never thought of that.

BOLETTE
But why not one as well as the other?

LYNGSTRAND
No; for a man has a calling that he lives for; and that's what makes a man so strong and firm, Miss Wangel. He has a calling in life.

BOLETTE
Has every man?

LYNGSTRAND
Oh no! I am thinking more especially of artists.

BOLETTE
Do you think it right of an artist to get married?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes, I think so. If he can find one he can heartily love, I—

BOLETTE
Still, I think he should rather live for his art alone.

LYNGSTRAND
Of course he must; but he can do that just as well, even if he marries.

BOLETTE
But how about her?

LYNGSTRAND
Her? Who?

BOLETTE
She whom he marries. What is she to live for?

LYNGSTRAND
She, too, is to live for his art. It seems to me a woman must feel so thoroughly happy in that.

BOLETTE
Hm, I don't exactly know—

LYNGSTRAND
Yes, Miss Wangel, you may be sure of that. It is not merely all the honour and respect she enjoys through him; for that seems almost the least important to me. But it is this—that she can help him to create, that she can lighten his work for him, be about him and see to his comfort, and tend him well, and make his life thoroughly pleasant. I should think that must be perfectly delightful to a woman.

BOLETTE
Ah! You don't yourself know how selfish you are!

LYNGSTRAND
I, selfish! Good heavens! Oh, if only you knew me a little better than you do! (Bending closer to her.) Miss Wangel, when once I am gone—and that will be very soon now—

BOLETTE
(looks pityingly at him). Oh, don't think of anything so sad!

LYNGSTRAND
But, really, I don't think it is so very sad.

BOLETTE
What do you mean?

LYNGSTRAND
Well, you know that I set out in a month. First from here, and then, of course, I'm going south.

BOLETTE
Oh, I see! Of course.

LYNGSTRAND
Will you think of me sometimes, then, Miss Wangel?

BOLETTE
Yes, gladly.

LYNGSTRAND
(pleased). No, promise!

BOLETTE
I promise.

LYNGSTRAND
By all that is sacred, Miss Bolette?

BOLETTE
By all that is sacred. (In a changed manner.) Oh, but what can come of it all? Nothing on earth can come of it!

LYNGSTRAND
How can you say that! It would be so delightful for me to know you were at home here thinking of me!

BOLETTE
Well, and what else?

LYNGSTRAND
I don't exactly know of anything else.

BOLETTE
Nor I either. There are so many things in the way. Everything stands in the way, I think.

LYNGSTRAND
Oh, another miracle might come about. Some happy dispensation of fortune, or something of the sort; for I really believe I shall be lucky now.

BOLETTE
(eagerly). Really? You do believe that?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes, I believe it thoroughly. And so—after a few years—when I come home again as a celebrated sculptor, and well off, and in perfect health!

BOLETTE
Yes, yes! Of course, we will hope so.

LYNGSTRAND
You may be perfectly certain about it. Only think faithfully and kindly of me when I am down there in the south; and now I have your word that you will.

BOLETTE
You have (shaking her head). But, all the same, nothing will surely come of it.

LYNGSTRAND
Oh! yes, Miss Bolette. At least this will come of it. I shall get on so much more easily and quickly with my art work.

BOLETTE
Do you believe that, too?

LYNGSTRAND
I have an inner conviction of it. And I fancy it will be so cheering for you, too—here in this out-of-the-way place-to know within yourself that you are, so to say, helping me to create.

BOLETTE
(looking at him). Well; but you on your side?

LYNGSTRAND
I?

BOLETTE
(looking out into the garden). Hush! Let us speak of something else. Here's Mr. Arnholm.

(ARNHOLM is seen in the garden below. He stops and talks to HILDE and BALLESTED.)

LYNGSTRAND
Are you fond of your old teacher, Miss Bolette?

BOLETTE
Fond of him?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes; I mean do you care for him?

BOLETTE
Yes, indeed I do, for he is a true friend—and adviser, too—and then he is always so ready to help when he can.

LYNGSTRAND
Isn't it extraordinary that he hasn't married!

BOLETTE
Do you think it is extraordinary?

LYNGSTRAND
Yes, for you say he's well-to-do.

BOLETTE
He is certainly said to be so. But probably it wasn't so easy to find anyone who'd have him.

LYNGSTRAND
Why?

BOLETTE
Oh! He's been the teacher of nearly all the young girls that he knows. He says that himself.

LYNGSTRAND
But what does that matter?

BOLETTE
Why, good heavens! One doesn't marry a man who's been your teacher!

LYNGSTRAND
Don't you think a young girl might love her teacher?

BOLETTE
Not after she's really grown up.

LYNGSTRAND
No—fancy that!

BOLETTE
(cautioning him). Sh! sh!

(Meanwhile BALLESTED has been gathering together his things, and carries them out from the garden to the right. HILDE helps him. ARNHOLM goes up the verandah, and comes into the room.)

ARNHOLM
Good-morning, my dear Bolette. Good-morning, Mr.—Mr.—hm—(He looks displeased, and nods coldly to LYNGSTRAND, who rises.)

BOLETTE
(rising up and going up to ARNHOLM). Good-morning, Mr. Arnholm.

ARNHOLM
Everything all right here today?

BOLETTE
Yes, thanks, quite.

ARNHOLM
Has your stepmother gone to bathe again today?

BOLETTE
No. She is upstairs in her room.

ARNHOLM
Not very bright?

BOLETTE
I don't know, for she has locked herself in.

ARNHOLM
Hm—has she?

LYNGSTRAND
I suppose Mrs. Wangel was very much frightened about that American yesterday?

ARNHOLM
What do you know about that?

LYNGSTRAND
I told Mrs. Wangel that I had seen him in the flesh behind the garden.

ARNHOLM
Oh! I see.

BOLETTE
(to ARNHOLM). No doubt you and father sat up very late last night, talking?

ARNHOLM
Yes, rather late. We were talking over serious matters.

BOLETTE
Did you put in a word for me, and my affairs, too?

ARNHOLM
No, dear Bolette, I couldn't manage it. He was so completely taken up with something else.

BOLETTE
(sighs). Ah! yes; he always is.

ARNHOLM
(looks at her meaningly). But later on today we'll talk more fully about—the matter. Where's your father now? Not at home?

BOLETTE
Yes, he is. He must be down in the office. I'll fetch him.

ARNHOLM
No, thanks. Don't do that. I'd rather go down to him.

BOLETTE
(listening). Wait one moment, Mr. Arnholm; I believe that's father on the stairs. Yes, I suppose he's been up to look after her.

(WANGEL comes in from the door on the left.)

WANGEL
(shaking ARNHOLM'S hand). What, dear friend, are you here already? It was good of you to come so early, for I should like to talk a little further with you.

BOLETTE
(to LYNGSTRAND). Hadn't we better go down to Hilde in the garden?

LYNGSTRAND
I shall be delighted, Miss Wangel.

(He and BOLETTE go down into the garden, and pass out between the trees in the background.)

ARNHOLM
(following them with his eyes, turns to WANGEL). Do you know anything about that young man?

WANGEL
No, nothing at all.

ARNHOLM
But do you think it right he should knock about so much with the girls?

WANGEL
Does he? I really hadn't noticed it.

ARNHOLM
You ought to see to it, I think.

WANGEL
Yes, I suppose you're right. But, good Lord! What's a man to do? The girls are so accustomed to look after themselves now. They won't listen to me, nor to Ellida.

ARNHOLM
Not to her either?

WANGEL
No; and besides I really cannot expect Ellida to trouble about such things. She's not fit for that (breaking off). But it wasn't that which we were to talk of. Now tell me, have you thought the matter over—thought over all I told you of?

ARNHOLM
I have thought of nothing else ever since we parted last night.

WANGEL
And what do you think should be done?

ARNHOLM
Dear Wangel, I think you, as a doctor, must know that better than I.

WANGEL
Oh! if you only knew how difficult it is for a doctor to judge rightly about a patient who is so dear to him! Besides, this is no ordinary illness. No ordinary doctor and no ordinary medicines can help her.

ARNHOLM
How is she today?

WANGEL
I was upstairs with her just now, and then she seemed to me quite calm; but behind all her moods something lies hidden which it is impossible for me to fathom; and then she is so changeable, so capricious—she varies so suddenly.

ARNHOLM
No doubt that is the result of her morbid state of mind.

WANGEL
Not altogether. When you go down to the bedrock, it was born in her. Ellida belongs to the sea-folk. That is the matter.

ARNHOLM
What do you really mean, my dear doctor?

WANGEL
Haven't you noticed that the people from out there by the open sea are, in a way, a people apart? It is almost as if they themselves lived the life of the sea. There is the rush of waves, and ebb and flow too, both in their thoughts and in their feelings, and so they can never bear transplanting. Oh! I ought to have remembered that. It was a sin against Ellida to take her away from there, and bring her here.

ARNHOLM
You have come to that opinion?

WANGEL
Yes, more and more. But I ought to have told myself this beforehand. Oh! I knew it well enough at bottom! But I put it from me. For, you see, I loved her so! Therefore, I thought of myself first of all. I was inexcusably selfish at that time!

ARNHOLM
Hm. I suppose every man is a little selfish under such circumstances. Moreover, I've never noticed that vice in you, Doctor Wangel.

WANGEL
(walks uneasily about the room). Oh, yes! And I have been since then, too. Why, I am so much, much older than she is. I ought to have been at once as a father to her and a guide. I ought to have done my best to develop and enlighten her mind. Unfortunately nothing ever came of that. You see, I hadn't stamina enough, for I preferred her just as she was. So things went worse and worse with her, and then I didn't know what to do. (In a lower voice.) That was why I wrote to you in my trouble, and asked you to come here.

ARNHOLM
(looks at him in astonishment). What, was it for this you wrote?

WANGEL
Yes; but don't let anyone notice anything.

ARNHOLM
How on earth, dear doctor—what good did you expect me to be? I don't understand it.

WANGEL
No, naturally. For I was on an altogether false track. I thought Ellida's heart had at one time gone out to you, and that she still secretly cared for you a little—that perhaps it would do her good to see you again, and talk of her home and the old days.

ARNHOLM
So it was your wife you meant when you wrote that she expected me, and—and perhaps longed for me.

WANGEL
Yes, who else?

ARNHOLM
(hurriedly). No, no. You're right. But I didn't understand.

WANGEL
Naturally, as I said, for I was on an absolutely wrong track.

ARNHOLM
And you call yourself selfish!

WANGEL
Ah! but I had such a great sin to atone for. I felt I dared not neglect any means that might give the slightest relief to her mind.

ARNHOLM
How do you really explain the power this stranger exercises over her?

WANGEL
Hm—dear friend—there may be sides to the matter that cannot be explained.

ARNHOLM
Do you mean anything inexplicable in itself—absolutely inexplicable?

WANGEL
In any case not explicable as far as we know.

ARNHOLM
Do you believe there is something in it, then?

WANGEL
I neither believe nor deny; I simply don't know. That's why I leave it alone.

ARNHOLM
Yes. But just one thing: her extraordinary, weird assertion about the child's eyes—

WANGEL
(eagerly). I don't believe a word about the eyes. I will not believe such a thing. It must be purely fancy on her part, nothing else.

ARNHOLM
Did you notice the man's eyes when you saw him yesterday?

WANGEL
Of course I did.

ARNHOLM
And you saw no sort of resemblance?

WANGEL
(evasively). Hm—good heavens! What shall I say? It wasn't quite light when I saw him; and, besides, Ellida had been saying so much about this resemblance, I really don't know if I was capable of observing quite impartially.

ARNHOLM
Well, well, may be. But that other matter? All this terror and unrest coming upon her at the very time, as it seems, this strange man was on his way home.

WANGEL
That—oh! that's something she must have persuaded and dreamed herself into since it happened. She was not seized with this so suddenly—all at once—as she now maintains. But since she heard from young Lyngstrand that Johnston—or Friman, or whatever his name is—was on his way hither, three years ago, in the month of March, she now evidently believes her unrest of mind came upon her at that very time.

ARNHOLM
It was not so, then?

WANGEL
By no means. There were signs and symptoms of it before this time, though it did happen, by chance, that in that month of March, three years ago, she had a rather severe attack.

ARNHOLM
After all, then—?

WANGEL
Yes, but that is easily accounted for by the circumstances—the condition she happened to be in at the time.

ARNHOLM
So, symptom for symptom, then.

WANGEL
(wringing his hands). And not to be able to help her! Not to know how to counsel her! To see no way!

ARNHOLM
Now if you could make up your mind to leave this place, to go somewhere else, so that she could live amid surroundings that would seem more homelike to her?

WANGEL
Ah, dear friend! Do you think I haven't offered her that, too? I suggested moving out to Skjoldviken, but she will not.

ARNHOLM
Not that either?

WANGEL
No, for she doesn't think it would be any good; and perhaps she's right.

ARNHOLM
Hm. Do you say that?

WANGEL
Moreover, when I think it all over carefully, I really don't know how I could manage it. I don't think I should be justified, for the sake of the girls, in going away to such a desolate place. After all, they must live where there is at least a prospect of their being provided for someday.

ARNHOLM
Provided for! Are you thinking about that already?

WANGEL
Heaven knows, I must think of that too! But then, on the other hand, again, my poor sick Ellida! Oh, dear Arnholm! in many respects I seem to be standing between fire and water!

ARNHOLM
Perhaps you've no need to worry on Bolette's account. (Breaking off.) I should like to know where she—where they have gone. (Goes up to the open door and looks out.)

WANGEL
Oh, I would so gladly make any sacrifice for all three of them, if only I knew what!

(ELLIDA enters from the door on the left.)

ELLIDA
(quickly to WANGEL). Be sure you don't go out this morning.

WANGEL
No, no! of course not. I will stay at home with you. (Pointing to ARNHOLM, who is coming towards them.) But won't you speak to our friend?

ELLIDA
(turning). Oh, are you here, Mr. Arnholm? (Holding out her hand to him.) Good-morning.

ARNHOLM
Good-morning, Mrs. Wangel. So you've not been bathing as usual today?

ELLIDA
No, no, no! That is out of the question today. But won't you sit down a moment?

ARNHOLM
No, thanks, not now. (Looks at WANGEL.) I promised the girls to go down to them in the garden.

ELLIDA
Goodness knows if you'll find them there. I never know where they may be rambling.

WANGEL
They're sure to be down by the pond.

ARNHOLM
Oh! I shall find them right enough. (Nods, and goes out across the verandah into the garden.)

ELLIDA
What time is it, Wangel?

WANGEL
(looking at his watch). A little past eleven.

ELLIDA
A little past. And at eleven o'clock, or half-past eleven tonight, the steamer is coming. If only that were over!

WANGEL
(going nearer to her). Dear Ellida, there is one thing I should like to ask you.

ELLIDA
What is it?

WANGEL
The evening before last—up at the "View"—you said that during the last three years you had so often seen him bodily before you.

ELLIDA
And so I have. You may believe that.

WANGEL
But, how did you see him?

ELLIDA
How did I see him?

WANGEL
I mean, how did he look when you thought you saw him?

ELLIDA
But, dear Wangel, why, you now know yourself how he looks.

WANGEL
Did he look exactly like that in your imagination?

ELLIDA
He did.

WANGEL
Exactly the same as you saw him in reality yesterday evening?

ELLIDA
Yes, exactly.

WANGEL
Then how was it you did not at once recognise him?

ELLIDA
Did I not?

WANGEL
No; you said yourself afterwards that at first you did not at all know who the strange man was.

ELLIDA
(perplexed). I really believe you are right. Don't you think that strange, Wangel? Fancy my not knowing him at once!

WANGEL
It was only the eyes, you said.

ELLIDA
Oh, yes! The eyes—the eyes.

WANGEL
Well, but at the "View" you said that he always appeared to you exactly as he was when you parted out there—ten years ago.

ELLIDA
Did I?

WANGEL
Yes.

ELLIDA
Then, I suppose he did look much as he does now.

WANGEL
No. On our way home, the day before yesterday, you gave quite another description of him. Ten years ago he had no beard, you said. His dress, too, was quite different. And that breast-pin with the pearl? That man yesterday wore nothing of the sort.

ELLIDA
No, he did not.

WANGEL
(looks searchingly at her). Now just think a little, dear Ellida. Or perhaps you can't quite remember how he looked when he stood by you at Bratthammer?

ELLIDA
(thoughtfully closing her eyes for a moment). Not quite distinctly. No, today I can't. Is it not strange?

WANGEL
Not so very strange after all. You have now been confronted by a new and real image, and that overshadows the old one, so that you can no longer see it.

ELLIDA
Do you believe that, Wangel?

WANGEL
Yes. And it overshadows your sick imaginings, too. That is why it is good a reality has come.

ELLIDA
Good? Do you think it good?

WANGEL
Yes. That it has come. It may restore you to health.

ELLIDA
(sitting down on sofa). Wangel, come and sit down by me. I must tell you all my thoughts.

WANGEL
Yes, do, dear Ellida.

(He sits down on a chair on the other side of the table.)

ELLIDA
It was really a great misfortune—for us both—that we two of all people should have come together.

WANGEL
(amazed). What are you saying?

ELLIDA
Oh, yes, it was. And it's so natural. It could bring nothing but unhappiness, after the way in which we came together.

WANGEL
What was there in that way?

ELLIDA
Listen, Wangel; it's no use going on, lying to ourselves and to one another.

WANGEL
Are we doing so? Lying, you say?

ELLIDA
Yes, we are; or, at least, we suppress the truth. For the truth—the pure and simple truth is—that you came out there and bought me.

WANGEL
Bought—you say bought!

ELLIDA
Oh! I wasn't a bit better than you. I accepted the bargain. Sold myself to you!

WANGEL
(looks at her full of pain). Ellida, have you really the heart to call it that?

ELLIDA
But is there any other name for it? You could no longer bear the emptiness of your house. You were on the look-out for a new wife.

WANGEL
And a new mother for the children, Ellida.

ELLIDA
That too, perhaps, by the way; although you didn't in the least know if I were fit for the position. Why, you had only seen me and spoken to me a few times. Then you wanted me, and so—

WANGEL
Yes, you may call it as you will.

ELLIDA
And I, on my side—why, I was so helpless and bewildered, and so absolutely alone. Oh! it was so natural I should accept the bargain, when you came and proposed to provide for me all my life.

WANGEL
Assuredly it did not seem to me a providing for you, dear Ellida. I asked you honestly if you would share with me and the children the little I could call my own.

ELLIDA
Yes, you did; but all the same, I should never have accepted! Never have accepted that at any price! Not sold myself! Better the meanest work—better the poorest life—after one's own choice.

WANGEL
(rising). Then have the five—six years that we have lived together been so utterly worthless to you?

ELLIDA
Oh! Don't think that, Wangel. I have been as well cared for here as human being could desire. But I did not enter your house freely. That is the thing.

WANGEL
(looking at her). Not freely!

ELLIDA
No. It was not freely that I went with you.

WANGEL
(in subdued tone). Ah! I remember your words of yesterday.

ELLIDA
It all lies in those words. They have enlightened me; and so I see it all now.

WANGEL
What do you see?

ELLIDA
I see that the life we two live together—is really no marriage.

WANGEL
(bitterly). You have spoken truly there. The life we now live is not a marriage.

ELLIDA
Nor was it formerly. Never—not from the very first (looks straight in front of her). The first—that might have been a complete and real marriage.

WANGEL
The first—what do you mean?

ELLIDA
Mine—with him.

WANGEL
(looks at her in astonishment). I do not in the least understand you.

ELLIDA
Ah! dear Wangel, let us not lie to one another, nor to ourselves.

WANGEL
Well—what more?

ELLIDA
You see—we can never get away from that one thing—that a freely given promise is fully as binding as a marriage.

WANGEL
But what on earth—

ELLIDA
(rising impetuously). Set me free, Wangel!

WANGEL
Ellida! Ellida!

ELLIDA
Yes, yes! Oh! grant me that! Believe me, it will come to that all the same—after the way we two came together.

WANGEL
(conquering his pain). It has come to this, then?

ELLIDA
It has come to this. It could not be otherwise.

WANGEL
(looking gloomily at her). So I have not won you by our living together. Never, never possessed you quite.

ELLIDA
Ah! Wangel—if only I could love you, how gladly I would—as dearly as you deserve. But I feel it so well—that will never be.

WANGEL
Divorce, then? It is a divorce, a complete, legal divorce that you want?

ELLIDA
Dear, you understand me so little! I care nothing for such formalities. Such outer things matter nothing, I think. What I want is that we should, of our own free will, release each other.

WANGEL
(bitterly, nods slowly). To cry off the bargain again—yes.

ELLIDA
(quickly). Exactly. To cry off the bargain.

WANGEL
And then, Ellida? Afterwards? Have you reflected what life would be to both of us? What life would be to both you and me?

ELLIDA
No matter. Things must turn out afterwards as they may. What I beg and implore of you, Wangel, is the most important. Only set me free! Give me back my complete freedom!

WANGEL
Ellida, it is a fearful thing you ask of me. At least give me time to collect myself before I come to a decision. Let us talk it over more carefully. And you yourself—take time to consider what you are doing.

ELLIDA
But we have no time to lose with such matters. I must have my freedom again today.

WANGEL
Why today?

ELLIDA
Because he is coming tonight.

WANGEL
(starts). Coming! He! What has this stranger to do with it?

ELLIDA
I want to face him in perfect freedom.

WANGEL
And what—what else do you intend to do?

ELLIDA
I will not hide behind the fact that I am the wife of another man; nor make the excuse that I have no choice, for then it would be no decision.

WANGEL
You speak of a choice. Choice, Ellida! A choice in such a matter!

ELLIDA
Yes, I must be free to choose—to choose for either side. I must be able to let him go away—alone, or to go with him.

WANGEL
Do you know what you are saying? Go with him—give your whole life into his hands!

ELLIDA
Didn't I give my life into your hands, and without any ado?

WANGEL
Maybe. But he! He! an absolute stranger! A man of whom you know so little!

ELLIDA
Ah! but after all I knew you even less; and yet I went with you.

WANGEL
Then you knew to some extent what life lay before you. But now? Think! What do you know? You know absolutely nothing. Not even who or what he is.

ELLIDA
(looking in front of her). That is true; but that is the terror.

WANGEL
Yes, indeed, it is terrible!

ELLIDA
That is why I feel I must plunge into it.

WANGEL
(looking at her). Because it seems terrible?

ELLIDA
Yes; because of that.

WANGEL
(coming closer). Listen, Ellida. What do you really mean by terrible?

ELLIDA
(reflectively). The terrible is that which repels and attracts.

WANGEL
Attracts, you say?

ELLIDA
Attracts most of all, I think.

WANGEL
(slowly). You are one with the sea.

ELLIDA
That, too, is a terror.

WANGEL
And that terror is in you. You both repel and attract.

ELLIDA
Do you think so, Wangel?

WANGEL
After all, I have never really known you—never really. Now I am beginning to understand.

ELLIDA
And that is why you must set me free! Free me from every bond to you—and yours. I am not what you took me for. Now you see it yourself. Now we can part as friends—and freely.

WANGEL
(sadly). Perhaps it would be better for us both if we parted—And yet, I cannot! You are the terror to me, Ellida; the attraction is what is strongest in you.

ELLIDA
Do you say that?

WANGEL
Let us try and live through this day wisely—in perfect quiet of mind. I dare not set you free, and release you today. I have no right to. No right for your own sake, Ellida. I exercise my right and my duty to protect you.

ELLIDA
Protect? What is there to protect me from? I am not threatened by any outward power. The terror lies deeper, Wangel. The terror is—the attraction in my own mind. And what can you do against that?

WANGEL
I can strengthen and urge you to fight against it.

ELLIDA
Yes; if I wished to fight against it.

WANGEL
Then you do not wish to?

ELLIDA
Oh! I don't know myself.

WANGEL
Tonight all will be decided, dear Ellida—Ellida (bursting out). Yes, think! The decision so near—the decision for one's whole life!

WANGEL
And then tomorrow—Ellida. Tomorrow! Perhaps my real future will have been ruined.

WANGEL
Your real—Ellida. The whole, full life of freedom lost—lost for me, and perhaps for him also.

WANGEL
(in a lower tone, seizing her wrist). Ellida, do you love this stranger?

ELLIDA
Do I? Oh, how can I tell! I only know that to me he is a terror, and that—

WANGEL
And that—

ELLIDA
(tearing herself away). And that it is to him I think I belong.

WANGEL
(bowing his head). I begin to understand better.

ELLIDA
And what remedy have you for that? What advice to give me?

WANGEL
(looking sadly at her). Tomorrow he will be gone, then the misfortune will be averted from your head; and then I will consent to set you free. We will cry off the bargain tomorrow, Ellida.

ELLIDA
Ah, Wangel, tomorrow! That is too late.

WANGEL
(looking towards garden). The children—the children! Let us spare them, at least for the present.

(ARNHOLM, BOLETTE, HILDE, and LYNGSTRAND come into the garden. LYNGSTRAND says goodbye in the garden, and goes out. The rest come into the room.)

ARNHOLM
You must know we have been making plans.

HILDE
We're going out to the fjord tonight and—

BOLETTE
No; you mustn't tell.

WANGEL
We two, also, have been making plans.

ARNHOLM
Ah!—really?

WANGEL
Tomorrow Ellida is going away to Skjoldviken for a time.

BOLETTE
Going away?

ARNHOLM
Now, look here, that's very sensible, Mrs. Wangel.

WANGEL
Ellida wants to go home again—home to the sea.

HILDE
(springing towards ELLIDA). You are going away—away from us?

ELLIDA
(frightened). Hilde! What is the matter?

HILDE
(controlling herself). Oh, it's nothing. (In a low voice, turning from her.) Are only you going?

BOLETTE
(anxiously). Father—I see it—you, too, are going—to Skjoldviken!

WANGEL
No, no! Perhaps I shall run out there every now and again.

BOLETTE
And come here to us?

WANGEL
I will—Bolette. Every now and again!

WANGEL
Dear child, it must be. (He crosses the room.)

ARNHOLM
(whispers). We will talk it over later, Bolette. (He crosses to WANGEL. They speak in low tones up stage by the door.)

ELLIDA
(aside to BOLETTE). What was the matter with Hilde? She looked quite scared.

BOLETTE
Have you never noticed what Hilde goes about here, day in, day out, hungering for?

ELLIDA
Hungering for?

BOLETTE
Ever since you came into the house?

ELLIDA
No, no. What is it?

BOLETTE
One loving word from you.

ELLIDA
Oh! If there should be something for me to do here!

(She clasps her hands together over her head, and looks fixedly in front of her, as if torn by contending thoughts and emotions. WANGEL and ARNHOLM come across the room whispering. BOLETTE goes to the side room, and looks in. Then she throws open the door.)

BOLETTE
Father, dear—the table is laid—if you—

WANGEL
(with forced composure). Is it, child? That's well. Come, Arnholm! We'll go in and drink a farewell cup—with the "Lady from the Sea." (They go out through the right.)