Punch: Punch (100.1891)

Mat 30, 1891.] punch, or the london charivaei. 253

MR. PUNCH'S POCKET IBSEN.

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

No. IV.—THE WILD DUCK.
Act III.

Hialhae's Studio. A photograph has just been taken. Gina and

Grim (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 Dock 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 un-
harmed in this house! But if you really had the true, joyous

Hedvig are tidying up. . g?irit of seif.sacrifice) you >d have a ghot at that Wild Dack) i{ you

Gina (apologetically). There should have been a luncheon-party in , died for it!
this Act, with Dr. Rolling and Molvxk, who would have been in a j Hedvig (slowly). I see; you mean that my constitution's changing,
state of comic " chippiness," after his excesses overnight. But, as and I ought to behave as such p

it hadn't muoh to do with such plot as there is, we cut it out. It { Gregers. Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"—
came cheaper. Here comes your father back from his walk with : bat / believe in you, Hedvig.

that lunatic, Young Weble—you had better go and play with the j [Hedvig takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes
Wiid Duck. _ [Hedvig goes. into the garret wi',h flashing eyes; Gin a comes in.

Hialmar (coming in). I have been for a walk with Gbegeks ; he . Hialmar (looking in at door with hesitation ; he is unleashed and
meant well—but it was tiring. Gina, he has told me that, fifteen ; dishevelled). Has anybody happened to see my hat ?
years ago, before I married you, you were ra.ther a Wild Duck, I Gina. Gracious, what a sight you are I Sit down and have some
so to speak. (Severely.) Why haven't you been writhing in peni- j breakfast, do. [She brings it.

tence and remorse all these years, eh ? _ Hialmar (indignantly). What! touch food under this roof ? Never 1

Gina (sensibly). Why? Because I have had other things to do. j (Helps himself to bread-and-butter and coffee.) Go and pack up my
You wouldn't take any photographs, so I had to. ! scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in

Hialmar. All the same—it was a swamp of my portmanteau. I am going away for ever,

deceit. And where am I to find elasticity of :.\.-;<. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare

spirit to bring out my grand invention now? ■■ room for another day or two—it won't be the

I used to shut myself up in the parlour, and ^ same as living with you !

ponder and cry, when 1 thought that the effort ■/}/ f'^ %-p^-'/yT [He takes some salt meat.

of inventing anything would sap my vitality. \ 'V ''Jj&o "'O*^^-'' Gregers. Must you go? Just when you've

(Pathetically.) I did want to leave you an , "3|s?' , got nice firm ground to build upon—thanks to

inventor's widow ; but I never shall now, /^^^^'^c^^^^Jj^^^^ ' me ' Then there's your great invention, too.
particularly as I haven't made up my mind Hialmar. Everything's invented already,

what to invent yet. Yes, it's all over. Bab- " - '\, f>*^£0^§.- ■ And I only cared about my invention because,

bits are trash, and even poultry palls. And , ^li!|«:lii|^^^^^^^MV\^ although it doesn't exist yet, I thought Hedvig

I'11 wring that cursed Wild Duck's neck! ifWW^M^^^^^^^ believed in it, with all the strength of her

Gregers (coming in beaming). Well, so ^1^^^^^^^^ sweet little shortsighted eyes! But now I

you've got it over. Wasn't it soothing and % don't believe in Hedvig !

ennobling, eh? and ain't you both obliged |j||P?f |~f [He pours himselfout another cup ofcoffee.

tome? ffivuv^vX^^^ S reW Gregers (earnestly). But, Hialjiab, if I can

Gina. No; it's my opinion you'd better jj< .'¥ Wsx\ prove to you that she is ready to sacrifice her

have minded your own business. [Weeps. \ \M\v\\uv lAW Y Iwll cherished Wild Duck ? See!

Gregers (in great surprise). Bless me ! Par- V'V^Vvr\v M^/r Js [He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers

don my Norwegian naivete, but this ought « /f.' 1$ ffiX^w Hedvig aiming at the Wild Duck with the

really to be quite a new starting-point. Why, - ' v #w ' Y/ Ipi* butt-end of the pistol. Tableau.

I confidently expected to have found you both ' =* WM$/ lllwi Gina (excitedly). But don't you see? It's

beaming!—• Mrs. Eedal, being so illiterate, ' l/tim % fflsm-. the pigstol — that fatal Norwegian weapon

may take some little time to see it —but you, Iwffl/ " \\f^~r which, in Ibsenian dramas, never shoots

Hialmab, with your deep mind, surely you '/////$/ W? straight! And she has got it by the wrong end

feel a new consecration, eh ? Lv/M'' wowt) too. She will shoot herself!

Hialmar (dubiously). Oh— er—yes, I sup- tUMII P Gregers (quietly). She will! Let the child

pose so—in a sort of way. rJJ Iu^a4 make amends. It will be a most realistic and

[Hedvig runs in, overjoyed. feb^ '//7 lw^\\ impressive finale!

Hedvig. Father, only see what JMjJ^ik ^t^tettfe,!^^^ Gina. No, no— put down the pigstol, Hedvig.

Mrs. Soebt has given me for a j| ^^^^P^^^^' Do you hear, child?

birthday present — a beautiful J ^'"^i^i»r«S Hedvig (still aiming). I hear—but I
deed of gilt! [Shows it. Ifc. c-V~v y^y,, |-==^gjsSsajssr - v-"~~" shan't unless father tells me to.

Hialmar (eluding her). Ha! mSj ^ jJIy '^^^sS^^^^Jl^ ^*§z^~ Gregers. Hialmae, show the great

Mrs. Sobby, the family House- -Jj * ___-^2F^~-<5^3i^Jtf2Smsoul I always said you had. This sor-

keeper. My father's sight fail- ^^^^^&/~7/Z/S^ *>^S-^^r-^Z row w^ se^ ^ree w^at is noble in you.

ing! Hedvig in goggles! What ___ Don't spoil a fine situation.

vistas of heredity these astonish- —""" _JLet the child shoot herself '
ing 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 to-

ness, you know !

Hialmar. Self-sacrificing forgiveness be blowed !

[He tears himself away, and goes out.

Hedvig (with despairing eyes). Oh, he said it might Jbe bio wed I
Now he '11 never come home any more!

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

Hedvig. Do you think that will do any good ?

Gregers. You just fry it! [Curtain.

Act IV.

Same Scene. Geegees e -iters, and finds Gina retouching photographs.

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

Gina. Not he! He's been out on the loose all night with Ree-
ling and Molvie. Now he's snoring on their sofa.

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

Hialmar (irresolutely). Well, really I don't know. There's a
good deal in what Geegees says. Hm !

Gina. A good deal of tomfool rubbish ! I'm illiterate, I know.
I've been a Wild Duck in my time, and I waddle. But for all that,
I'm the only person in the play with a grain of common-sense. And
I'm sure—whatever Mr. Ibsen or Geegees choose to say—that a
gether, to attain the true frame of mind for self-sacrificing forgive- ! screaming burlesque like this ought not to end like a tragedy—even

in this queer Norway of ours I And it shan't, either ! Tell the child
to put that nasty pigstol down and come away, do!

Hialmar (yielding). Ah, well, I am a farcical character myself, after
all. Don't touch a hair of that duck's head, Hedvig. Come to my
arm3 and all shall be forgiven !

[Hedvig throws down the pistol, — which goes off and kills a
rabbit—and rushes into her father's arms. Old Ekd ae comes
out of a corner with a fowl on each shoulder, ana1 bursts into
tears. Affecting family picture.
Gregers (annoyed). W's all very pretty, I dare say—but it's not
Ibsen"! My real miesion is to be the thirteenth at table. I don't
know what I mean—but I fly to fulfil it! [He goes.

Hialmar. And now we've got rid of him, Hedvig, fetch me the
deed of gift I tore up, and a slip of paper, and a penny bottle of gum,
and we '11 soon make a valid instrument of it again !

[He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain sloivly descends.
The End {with apologias as before.)

TOi. r.

z