Theatre columbus borkman adaptation - act one

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ACT FIRST

MRS. BORKMAN's drawing-room, furnished with old-fashioned, faded splendour. At the back, an open sliding-door leads into a garden-room, with windows and a glass door. Through it a view over the garden; twilight with driving snow. On the right, a door leading from the hall. Further forward, a large old-fashioned iron stove, with the fire lighted. On the left, towards the back, a single smaller door. In front, on the same side, a window, covered with thick curtains. Between the window and the door a horsehair sofa, with a table in front of it covered with a cloth. On the table, a lighted lamp with a shade. Beside the stove a high-backed armchair.

MRS. GUNHILD BORKMAN sits on the sofa, crocheting. She is an elderly lady, of cold, distinguished appearance, with stiff carriage and immobile features. Her abundant hair is very grey. Delicate transparent hands. Dressed in a gown of heavy dark silk, which has originally been handsome, but is now somewhat worn and shabby. A woollen shawl over her shoulders.

She sits for a time erect and immovable at her crochet. Then the bells of a passing sleigh are heard.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Listens; her eyes sparkle with gladness and she involuntarily whispers]. Erhart! At last! What are you doing?
 * 01

[She rises and draws the curtain a little aside to look out. Appears disappointed, and sits down to her work again, on the sofa. Presently THE MAID enters from the hall with a visiting card on a small tray.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Quickly.] Was it Mr. Erhart after all?

THE MAID. No, ma'am. It's a lady

MRS. BORKMAN. [Laying aside her crochet.] Oh, Mrs. Wilton, I suppose

THE MAID. [Approaching.] No, she's a stranger

MRS. BORKMAN. [Taking the card.] Let me see [Reads it; rises hastily and looks intently at the girl.]  Are you sure this is for me?

THE MAID. Yes, that was my understanding.

MRS. BORKMAN. She asked to speak with Mrs. Borkman?

THE MAID. Yes, ma'am.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Shortly, resolutely.] Good. Let her know I'm here.

[THE MAID opens the door for the strange lady and goes out. MISS ELLA RENTHEIM enters. She resembles her sister; but her face has rather a suffering than a hard expression. It still shows signs of great beauty, combined with strong character. She has a great deal of hair, which is drawn back from the forehead in natural ripples, and is snow-white. She is dressed in black velvet, with a hat and a fur-lined cloak of the same material.

[The two sisters stand silent for a time, and look searchingly at each other. Each is evidently waiting for the other to speak first.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Who has remained near the door.] You are surprised to see me, Gunhild.
 * 02

MRS. BORKMAN. [Standing erect and immovable between the sofa and the table, resting her finger-tips upon the cloth.] Aren't you mistaken? The bailiff lives in the side wing, you know.

ELLA RENTHEIM. It is not the bailiff I wanted to see to-day.

MRS. BORKMAN. You want something of me then?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes. I have a few words for you.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Coming forward into the middle of the room.] Well--then have a seat.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Thank you; but I'm find standing at the moment.

MRS. BORKMAN. Suit yourself, but at least loosen your cloak.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Unbuttoning her cloak.] Yes, it is very warm in here.

MRS. BORKMAN. I am always cold.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Stands looking at her for a time with her arms resting on the back of the armchair.] Well, Gunhild, it's been almost eight years since we've seen eachother.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Coldly.] Since we've talked to eachother, at least.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, since we've last spoke to each other. I guess you've seen me during my annual visits to the bailiff.

MRS. BORKMAN. Once or twice, yes.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I've caught a glimpse of you a few times--there, at the window.

MRS. BORKMAN. You would've seen me through the curtains then. You have sharp eyes. [Harshly and cuttingly.] But the last time we spoke to each other--in this very room

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Trying to stop her.] Yes, yes; I know, Gunhild!

MRS. BORKMAN. --the week before he--before he was released.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Moving towards the back.] Oh, leave it alone.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Firmly, but in a low voice.] It was the week before he--Borkman was set free.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Coming down.] Oh yes, yes, yes! I'll never forget it! But it's too terrible a thing to dwell on! The thought of it--even now!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Gloomily.] And yet one's thoughts can never stray far from it. [Vehemently; clenching her hands together.] No, can't understand it. I can't comprehend how it--how anything so horrific can strike a family with such precision! And our family over all others! As distinguished a family as ours! Think of it, singling us out!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Oh, Gunhild--there were many, many others struck by that blow.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, but they don't concern me esspecially. They only lost money, some papers. But for us! For me! And Erhart! My little boy--he was just a child! [In rising excitement.] The shame it caused us, the innocent ones! The dishonour! The hateful, ugly dishonour! And then the total ruin!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Cautiously.] Tell me, Gunhild, how does he bear it?

MRS. BORKMAN. Erhart, do you mean?

ELLA RENTHEIM. No--he himself. How does he bear it?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Scornfully.] Do you think I'd ask about that?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Ask? Surely you needn't ask to

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looks at her in surprise.] You don't think that I actually consort with him? Or talk with him. That I ever lay eyes on him.

ELLA RENTHEIM. You won't see him!

MRS. BORKMAN. [As before.] The man was in prison, in prison for five years! [Covers her face with her hands.] The disgrace! [With increased vehemence.] And to think of everything the name of John Gabriel Borkman once meant! No, no, no--I'll never look at him again! Never!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looks at her for a while.] You have a hard heart, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. Towards him, yes.

ELLA RENTHEIM. But he's still your husband.

MRS. BORKMAN. Didn't he tell the court that I lead to his ruin? That I spent his money so recklessly?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Tentatively.] Wasn't there some truth in that?

MRS. BORKMAN. It was all as he wanted it! He insisted we live in such absurd luxuriously

ELLA RENTHEIM. I know. But you should've put up some restraint; and you certainly did not.

MRS. BORKMAN. How was I to know that it wasn't his, the money he'd have me squander? Or that he squandered ten times what I what spent!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Quietly.] Well, I imagine his position required it-- to some extent at any rate.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Scornfully.] The same old story--we had to "cut a figure." Well he "cut a figure" alright! He'd drive about in a four horse carriage like a king. He let people grovel to him like royalty. [With a laugh.] And they always called him by his Christian names--all over the country--as if he were a king. "John Gabriel," "John Gabriel," "John Gabriel." Every one knew how great a man "John Gabriel" was!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Warmly and emphatically.] He was a great man then.

MRS. BORKMAN. So it seemed. But never a word to me about his real position--not a hint about the origin of his funding.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I don't suppose the others never suspected either.

MRS. BORKMAN. Forget the others. He had a duty to tell me the truth. And he never did! He only lied--lied to me boundlessly

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Interrupting.] Certainly not, Gunhild. He concealed things maybe, but I am sure he didn't lie.

MRS. BORKMAN. Call it what you want; it doesn't matter.-- And then it all fell apart--in its entirety.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [To herself.] Yes, everything went to pieces--for him--and for the others.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Drawing herself up menacingly.] But I'll you this, Ella, I haven't given up! I'll redeem myself yet--mark my words on that!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Eagerly.] Redeem yourself! What do you mean?

MRS. BORKMAN. Redeem my name, and honour, and fortune! Redeem my ruined life-- that is what I mean! I have some one in reserve, let me tell you-- one who will wash away every stain that he has left.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Gunhild! Gunhild!

MRS. BORKMAN. [With rising excitement.] There is an avenger living, I tell you! One who'll right all his father's wrong!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Erhart.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, Erhart, my son! He'll find a way to restore the family, the house, our name. Everything that can be restored--maybe more.

ELLA RENTHEIM. And how do you expect him to do it?

MRS. BORKMAN. He'll do it the best possible way; I don't know exactly how. But I know that it must and will be done. [Looks searchingly at her.] Come on Ella; isn't it what you've had in mind too, ever since he was a child?

ELLA RENTHEIM. No, I wouldn't say that exactly.

MRS. BORKMAN. No? Then why did you take charge of hin when the storm broke over--over this house?

ELLA RENTHEIM. You couldn't managed him at that time, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. No, that right, I couldn't. And his father-- incompetent under the law-- sat there-- protected from all responsibility

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Indignant.] How can you say such things! You!

MRS. BORKMAN. [With a venomous expression.] How could you bring yourself to take the child of a-- of John Gabriel! Like he were your own? Taken from me-- to go home with you-- kept there year after year, until he was nearly grown up. [Looking suspiciously at her.] What were your reasons, Ella? Why did you keep him?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I came to love him so much

MRS. BORKMAN. More than me--his mother?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Evasively.] I don't know about that. And, you know, Erhart was so delicate as a child

MRS. BORKMAN. Erhart--delicate!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, I thought so--at that time at any rate. And you know how the air on the coast is so much milder than here.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Smiling bitterly.] H'm--is it indeed? [Breaking off.] Yes, you've truly done alot for Erhart. [With a change of tone.] But, of course, you could afford it. [Smiling.] You've been so lucky, Ella; to have had all your money saved.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Hurt.] I had nothing to do with that, I assure you. I never knew--until long, long afterwards--that my securities had been spared.

MRS. BORKMAN. Well, I don't understand anything about these things! I'm only saying you were lucky. [Looking inquiringly at her.] But when you elected to educate Erhart for me--what was your motive then?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking at her.] My motive?

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, you must've had some motive. What did you want of him? To make of him, I mean?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Slowly.] I wanted to smooth Erhart's way to a happy life.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Contemptuously.] Pooh--people like us have more than happiness to consider.

ELLA RENTHEIM. What, then?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking steadily and earnestly at her.] Erhart has to first achieve such a brilliant position that no trace will be left of the shadow that his father has cast on my me--and on my son.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Searchingly.] Tell me, Gunhild, is that Erhart's own aim in life?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Slightly taken aback.] I should hope so!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Or is it your own demand of him?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Curtly.] Erhart and I have always shared the same aim.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Sadly and slowly.] Are you so very certain of your son, then, Gunhild?

MRS. BORKMAN. [With veiled triumph.] Yes, thank God, I am. You can be sure of that!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Then you must count youself lucky after all; in spite everything else.

MRS. BORKMAN. And I do--as far as that goes. But the rest of the time, the memory of it all sweeps me over like a storm.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With a change of tone.] Tell me--you might as well tell me right now--since that's why I came

MRS. BORKMAN. What?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Tell me--Erhart doesn't live out here with you--with you and the others?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Harshly.] Erhart can't live out here with me. He's got to live in town

ELLA RENTHEIM. He's mentioned that in his letters.

MRS. BORKMAN. He has to, for the sake of his studies. But he comes to visit me a little every evening.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Maybe I could see him then? Could I speak to him right now?

MRS. BORKMAN. He isn't here yet; but I expect him any minute.

ELLA RENTHEIM. But Gunhild, I'm certain he's here. I can hear his footsteps above.

MRS. BORKMAN. [With a rapid upward glance.] Up in the gallery?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes. I've heard him walking back and forth since I arrived.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking away from her.] That's not Erhart, Ella.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Surprised.] Not Erhart? [Divining.] Who is it then?

MRS. BORKMAN. It's him.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Softly, with suppressed pain.] Borkman? John Gabriel Borkman?

MRS. BORKMAN. He walks back and forth like that--up and down--from morning to night--day after day.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I have heard rumors of this

MRS. BORKMAN. I'm sure. People find plenty to say about us, no doubt.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Erhart has hinted at it in his letters. He said that his father generally kept to himself--up there--and you, alone down here.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes; that's how it is, Ella, ever since they released him, and sent him home to me. All these eight long years.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I didn't think it could be true. It seemed impossible!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Nods.] That's how it is; and it can never be otherwise.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking at her.] This must be a terrible existence, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. Worse than terrible--almost unendurable.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I understand.

MRS. BORKMAN. Always hearing his footsteps up there--morning till night. And everything sounds so clear in this house!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, it's strange how clear it sounds.

MRS. BORKMAN. I often feel like I had a sick, caged wolf pacing up in the gallery, right over my head. [Listens and whispers.] Do you hear it! Back and forth, up and down, the wolf goes.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Tentatively.] Couldn't things change, Gunhild?

MRS. BORKMAN. [With a gesture of repulsion.] He's never tried to change anything.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Couldn't you make the first try, then?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Indignantly.] Me! After all the wrong he has done me! No thank you! Rather let the wolf go on prowling up there.

ELLA RENTHEIM. It's too hot in here. I'll take off my cloak off after all.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, I asked you to.

[ELLA RENTHEIM takes off her hat and cloak and lays them on a chair beside the door leading to the hall.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Do you ever happen to meet him, away from home?

MRS. BORKMAN. [With a bitter laugh.] In society, you mean?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I mean, when he's for some air. Walking in the woods, or

MRS. BORKMAN. He never goes out.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Not even in the evening?

MRS. BORKMAN. Never.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With emotion.] He can't face even that?

MRS. BORKMAN. Apparently not. He has his great cape and his hat hanging in the closet--the closet in the hall, you know

ELLA RENTHEIM. [To herself.] The closet we used to hide in when we were little.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Nods.] Every so often--late at night--I hear him come down to put on his things and go out. But he always stops halfway, and turns back--straight back to the gallery.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Quietly.] Don't any of his old friends ever stop by to see him?

MRS. BORKMAN. He has no old friends.

ELLA RENTHEIM. He had so many--once.

%% MRS. BORKMAN. H'm! He found a good way to get rid of them. He became an expensive friend to have, John Gabriel.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I suppose that's true, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Vehemently.] Just the same, I say it's mean, cheap, petty, and deplorable of them, to think so much of the paltry losses they might have suffered. It was only money, after all.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Not answering her.] So he lives up there all alone. Totally isolated.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, practically so. They tell me an old clerk or copyist or something stops to see him now and then.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Ah, yes; that must be the man called Foldal. I know they were friends as young men.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, I think so. But I don't know any more about him. He was quite outside our circle--when we had a circle

ELLA RENTHEIM. And now he comes out to see Borkman?

%% MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, he condescends to. But only after dark, of course.

ELLA RENTHEIM. This Foldal--was he amongst those who suffered when the bank failed?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Carelessly.] Yes, I think I heard he'd lost some money. But it was insignificant.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With slight emphasis.] It was everything he had.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Smiling.] Well what he had was next to nothing--barely worth mentioning.

ELLA RENTHEIM. And he never mentioned it--Foldal I mean--during the investigation.

MRS. BORKMAN. In any case, I can assure you Erhart has made amends for whatever minor loss he may have suffered.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With surprise.] Erhart! How did he manage that?

MRS. BORKMAN. He's taken an interest in Foldal's youngest daughter. He's been teaching her, so she can get work, and providing for herself someday. I'm sure thats more than her father could ever have done for her.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, I'd imagine her father can't afford to do much.

MRS. BORKMAN. Then Erhart arranged for her to have lessons in music. She's progressed so much already that she goes up to--to him in the gallery, to play for him.

ELLA RENTHEIM. So he is still fond of music?

MRS. BORKMAN. I suppose so. He has the piano you sent out--before his return

ELLA RENTHEIM. And she plays to him on it?

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, now and then--in the evenings. That's Erhart's doing, too.

ELLA RENTHEIM. The poor girl have to travel all the way out here, and then back to town again?

MRS. BORKMAN. No, she doesn't need to. Erhart's arranged for her to stay with a lady who lives nearby--a Mrs. Wilton

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With interest.] Mrs. Wilton?

MRS. BORKMAN. A very rich woman. You don't know her.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I've heard her name. Mrs. Fanny Wilton, isn't it?

MRS. BORKMAN. That's right.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Erhart's mentioned her in several of his letters. Is she living out here now?

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, she's taken a villa here; she moved out from town some time ago.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With a slight hesitation.] They say she's divorced.

MRS. BORKMAN. Her husband has been dead for several years.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, but they were divorced. He divorced her.

MRS. BORKMAN. He deserted her, that is what he did. I am sure the fault wasn't hers.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Do you know her well, Gunhild?

MRS. BORKMAN. Oh yes, pretty well. She lives nearby; and visits every so often.

ELLA RENTHEIM. And you like her?

MRS. BORKMAN. She is unusually intelligent; remarkably clear in her perceptions.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Her perceptions of people, you mean?

MRS. BORKMAN. Particularly of people. She has made quite a study of Erhart; looked deep into his character--into his soul. And consequently she idolizes him, which is only reasonable.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With a touch of finesse.] Then perhaps she knows Erhart even better than she knows you?

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, Erhart saw a lot of her in town, before she came out here.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Without thinking.] And in spite of that she moved out here?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Taken aback, looking keenly at her.] In spite of that! What do you mean?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Evasively.] Oh, nothing in particular.

MRS. BORKMAN. You said it strangely--you did mean something by it, Ella!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking her straight in the eyes.] Yes, it's true, Gunhild! I did mean something by it.

MRS. BORKMAN. Well, then, go on and say it.

ELLA RENTHEIM. First let me say that I think I also have a certain claim upon Erhart. Wouldn't you agree?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Glancing round the room.] No doubt--after all the money you have spent upon him.

ELLA RENTHEIM. That's no reason, Gunhild. But because I love him.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Smiling scornfully.] Love my son? Is it possible? You? In spite of everything?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, it's possible--in spite of everything. And it's true. I love Erhart--as much as I can love any one--now--at my age.

MRS. BORKMAN. Well, suppose you do: what then?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Why, then, I get upset as I see anything threatening him.

MRS. BORKMAN. Threatening Erhart! What should threaten him? Or who?

ELLA RENTHEIM. You, in the first place--in your way.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Vehemently.] Me!

ELLA RENTHEIM. And then this Mrs. Wilton, too, I fear.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looks at her for a moment in speechless surprise.] How you think such things of Erhart! Of my own son! With his great mission to fulfil!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Lightly.] Come on, his mission!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Indignantly.] How dare you say that so scornfully?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Do you think a young man like Erhart, full of health and vitality--do you think he's going to sacrifice himself for--for such a thing as a "mission"?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Firmly and emphatically.] Erhart will! I know he will.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Shaking her head.] You neither know it or believe it, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. I don't believe it!

ELLA RENTHEIM. It's just a dream you cherish. For if you didn't have that to cling to, you fear you'd fall into total despair.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, indeed I should despair. [Vehemently.] And I suspect that's what you'd like most, Ella!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With head erect.] Yes, I would rather see that than see you "redeem" yourself at Erhart's expense.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Threateningly.] You want to come between us? Between mother and son? You?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I want to free him from your power--your will--your despotism.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Triumphantly.] You're too late! You had him in your nets all these years--until he was fifteen. But I've won him back!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Then I will win him back again! [Hoarsely, half whispering.] We've fought like savages once before, for a man's soul!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking at her in triumph.] Yes, and I won the victory.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With a smile of scorn.] Do you still think that victory was worth the winning?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Darkly.] No; God knows you're right there.

%% ELLA RENTHEIM. You won't find a victory worth the winning this time either.

%% MRS. BORKMAN. Not when I am fighting to preserve a mother's power over my son!

ELLA RENTHEIM. No; because it's only power over him that you want.

MRS. BORKMAN. And you?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Warmly.] I want his affection--his soul--his whole heart!

MRS. BORKMAN. [With an outburst.] You'll never have them, not ever in this world!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking at her.] You've seen to that?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Smiling.] Yes, I have taken that liberty. Could you not see that in his letters?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Nods slowly.] Yes. His recent letters have been wholly of you.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Gallingly.] I have made the best use of these eight years. I have had him under my own eyes, you see.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Controlling herself.] What have you said to Erhart about me? Is it the sort of thing you can tell me?

MRS. BORKMAN. Oh yes, I can tell you well enough.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Then please do.

MRS. BORKMAN. I merely told him the truth.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Well?

MRS. BORKMAN. I've impressed upon him, every day of his life, that he alway remember that we have you to thank for living as comfortably as we do--for being able to live at all.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Is that all?

MRS. BORKMAN. Oh, that's the sort of knowledge that festers; I feel that in my own heart.

ELLA RENTHEIM. But that's no different from what Erhart already knew.

MRS. BORKMAN. When he came home to me, he imagined that you did it all out of goodness of your heart. [Looks malignly at her.] He does't believe that any longer, Ella.

ELLA RENTHEIM. What does he believe now, then?

MRS. BORKMAN. He believes what is the truth. I asked him how he he could explain why Aunt Ella never came here to visit us

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Interrupting.] He knew my reasons already!

MRS. BORKMAN. He knows them better now. You convinced him that it was to spare me and--and him up there

ELLA RENTHEIM. And so it was.

MRS. BORKMAN. Erhart doesn't believe that for a moment, now.

ELLA RENTHEIM. What have you put in his head?

MRS. BORKMAN. He thinks, what is the truth, that you are ashamed of us--that you despise us. Do you pretend that you don't? Didn't you plan to take him away from me altogether? Think, Ella; sure you haven't forgotten.

%% ELLA RENTHEIM. [With a gesture of negation.] That was at the height of the scandal--when the case was before the courts. I have no such designs now.

MRS. BORKMAN. And it wouldn't matter if you had. Then what would become of his mission? No, thank you. It is me that Erhart needs-- not you. And therefore he is as good as dead to you--and you to him.

%% ELLA RENTHEIM. [Coldly, with resolution.] We'll see. For now I will stay out here.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Stares at her.] Here? In this house?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, here.

MRS. BORKMAN. Here--with us? For the night?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I'll stay here for the rest of my days if need be.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Collecting herself.] Very well, Ella; the house is yours

ELLA RENTHEIM. Nonsense

MRS. BORKMAN. Everything is yours. The chair I am sitting in is yours. The bed I lie and toss in at night belongs to you. The food we eat comes to us from you.

ELLA RENTHEIM. It can't be arranged otherwise, you know. Borkman can possess no property of his own; someone would take it from him immediately.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, I know. We must be content with living by your pity and charity.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Coldly.] I can't stop you from looking at it in that light, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. No, you can't. When do you want us to move out?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking at her.] Move out?

MRS. BORKMAN. [In great excitement.] Yes; you can't imagine that I'll go on living under the same roof with you! I'd rather go to the workhouse or take to the roads!

ELLA RENTHEIM. Good. Then let me take Erhart with me

MRS. BORKMAN. Erhart? My only son? My child?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes; then I'll go straight home again.

MRS. BORKMAN. [After reflecting a moment, firmly.] Erhart himself will choose between us.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking doubtfully and hesitatingly at her.] Let him choose? Dare you risk that, Gunhild?

MRS. BORKMAN. [With a hard laugh.] Dare I?  Let my boy choose between his mother and you? Yes, indeed I dare!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Listening.] Is there some one coming? I thought I heard

MRS. BORKMAN. Then it must be Erhart.

[There is a sharp knock at the door leading in from the hall, which is immediately opened. MRS. WILTON enters, in evening dress, and with outer wraps. She is followed by THE MAID, who has not had time to announce her, and looks bewildered. The door remains half open. MRS. WILTON is a strikingly handsome, well-developed woman in the thirties. Broad, red, smiling lips, sparkling eyes. Luxuriant dark hair.

MRS. WILTON. Good evening, my dearest Mrs. Borkman!
 * 03

MRS. BORKMAN. [Rather drily.] Good evening, Mrs. Wilton. [To THE MAID, pointing toward the garden-room.] Take the lamp that is in there and light it.

[THE MAID takes the lamp and goes out with it.

MRS. WILTON. [Observing ELLA RENTHEIM.] Oh, I beg your pardon--you have a visitor.

MRS. BORKMAN. Only my sister, who has just arrived from

[ERHART BORKMAN flings the half-open door wide open and rushes in. He is a young man with bright cheerful eyes. He is well dressed; his moustache is beginning to grow.

ERHART. [Radiant with joy; on the threshold.] What is this! Is Aunt Ella here? [Rushing up to her and seizing her hands.] Aunt, aunt! Is it possible? Are you here?
 * 04

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Throws her arms round his neck.] Erhart! My dear, dear boy! Why, how big you have grown! Oh, how good it is to see you again!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Sharply.] What does this mean, Erhart? Were you hiding out in the hallway?

MRS. WILTON. [Quickly.] Erhart--Mr. Borkman came in with me.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking hard at him.] Indeed, Erhart! You don't come to your mother first?

ERHART. I had just to look in at Mrs. Wilton's for a moment--to call for little Frida.

MRS. BORKMAN. Is that Miss Foldal with you too?

MRS. WILTON. Yes, we have left her in the hall.

ERHART. [Addressing some one through the open door.] You can go right upstairs, Frida.

[Pause. ELLA RENTHEIM observes ERHART. He seems embarrassed and a little impatient; his face has assumed a nervous and colder expression.

[THE MAID brings the lighted lamp into the garden-room, goes out again and closes the door behind her.

MRS. BORKMAN. [With forced politeness.] Well, Mrs. Wilton, if you will give us the pleasure of your company this evening, won't you

MRS. WILTON. Many thanks, my dear lady, but I really can't. We have another invitation. We're going down to the Hinkels'.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking at her.] We? Whom do you mean by we?

MRS. WILTON. [Laughing.] Oh, I ought really to have said I.  But I was commissioned by the ladies of the house to bring Mr. Borkman with me--if I happened to see him.

MRS. BORKMAN. And you did happen to see him, it appears.

MRS. WILTON. Yes, fortunately. He was good enough to look in at my house-- to call for Frida.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Drily.] But, Erhart, I did not know that you knew that family-- those Hinkels?

ERHART. [Irritated.] No, I don't exactly know them. [Adds rather impatiently.] You know better than anybody, mother, what people I know and don't know.

MRS. WILTON. Oh, it doesn't matter! They soon put you at your ease in that house! They are such cheerful, hospitable people--the house swarms with young ladies.

MRS. BORKMAN. [With emphasis.] If I know my son rightly, Mrs. Wilton, they are no fit company for him.

MRS. WILTON. Why, good gracious, dear lady, he is young, too, you know!

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, fortunately he's young. He would need to be young.

ERHART. [Concealing his impatience.] Well, well, well, mother, it's quite clear I can't got to the Hinkels' this evening. Of course I shall remain here with you and Aunt Ella.

MRS. BORKMAN. I knew you would, my dear Erhart.

ELLA RENTHEIM. No, Erhart, you must not stop at home on my account

ERHART. Yes, indeed, my dear Aunt; I can't think of going. [Looking doubtfully at MRS. WILTON.] But how shall we manage? Can I get out of it? You have said "Yes" for me, haven't you?

MRS. WILTON. [Gaily.] What nonsense! Not get out of it! When I make my entrance into the festive halls--just imagine it!--deserted and forlorn--then I must simply say "No" for you.

ERHART. [Hesitatingly.] Well, if you really think I can get out of it

MRS. WILTON. [Putting the matter lightly aside.] I am quite used to saying both yes and no--on my own account. And you can't possibly think of leaving your aunt the moment she has arrived! For shame, Monsieur Erhart! Would that be behaving like a good son?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Annoyed.] Son?

MRS. WILTON. Well, adopted son then, Mrs. Borkman.

MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, you may well add that.

MRS. WILTON. Oh, it seems to me we have often more cause to be grateful to a foster-mother than to our own mother.

MRS. BORKMAN. Has that been your experience?

MRS. WILTON. I knew very little of my own mother, I am sorry to say. But if I had had a good foster-mother, perhaps I shouldn't have been so-- so naughty, as people say I am. [Turning towards ERHART.] Well, then we stop peaceably at home like a good boy, and drink tea with mamma and auntie! [To the ladies.] Good-bye, good-bye Mrs. Borkman! Good-bye Miss Rentheim.

[The ladies bow silently. She goes toward the door.

ERHART. [Following her.] Should I walk with you partway?

MRS. WILTON. [In the doorway, motioning him back.] Not a step. I'm quite accustomed to walking on my own. [Stops on the threshold, looks at him and nods.] But I warn you, Mr. Borkman--beware!

ERHART. And why am I to beware?

MRS. WILTON. [Gaily.] As I go down the road--alone and abandoned, as I said--I'll be casting a spell upon you.

ERHART. [Laughing.] Really! Are you going to try that again?

MRS. WILTON. [Half seriously.] Yes, so you best beware! As I walking, I'll say in my mind--right from the centre of my will-- I'll say: "Mr. Erhart Borkman, take your hat this instant!"

MRS. BORKMAN. And you think he will take it?

MRS. WILTON. [Laughing.] Absolutley, he'll snatch up his hat straightaway. And then I will say: "Now put on your overcoat, like a good boy, Erhart Borkman! And your goloshes!  Be sure you don't forget the goloshes!  And then follow me!  Do as I bid you, as I bid you, as I bid you!"

ERHART. [With forced gaiety.] Oh, you may rely on that.

MRS. WILTON. [Raising her forefinger.] As I bid you! As I bid you! Good-night!

[She laughs and nods to the ladies, and closes the door behind her.

MRS. BORKMAN. Does she really play tricks of that sort?
 * 05

ERHART. Oh, not at all. How can you think so! She only says it in fun. [Breaking off.] But don't let us talk about Mrs. Wilton. [He forces ELLA RENTHEIM to seat herself at the armchair beside the stove, then stands and looks at her.] To think of your having taken all this long journey, Aunt Ella! And in winter too!

ELLA RENTHEIM. I found I had to, Erhart.

ERHART. Indeed? Why so?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I had to come to town after all, to consult the doctors.

ERHART. Oh, I'm glad of that!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Smiling.] Are you glad of that?

ERHART. I mean I am glad you made up your mind to it at last.

MRS. BORKMAN. [On the sofa, coldly.] Are you ill, Ella?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking hardly at her.] You know quite well that I am ill.

MRS. BORKMAN. I knew you were not strong, and hadn't been for years.

ERHART. I told you before I left you that you ought to consult a doctor.

ELLA RENTHEIM. There is no one in my neighbourhood that I have any real confidence in. And, besides, I did not feel it so much at that time.

ERHART. Are you worse, then, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, my dear boy; I am worse now.

ERHART. But there's nothing dangerous?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Oh, that depends how you look at it.

ERHART. [Emphatically.] Well, then, I tell you what it is, Aunt Ella; you mustn't think of going home again for the present.

ELLA RENTHEIM. No, I am not thinking of it.

ERHART. You must remain in town; for here you can have your choice of all the best doctors.

ELLA RENTHEIM. That was what I thought when I left home.

ERHART. And then you must be sure and find a really nice place to live-- quiet, comfortable rooms.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I went this morning to the old ones, where I used to stay before.

ERHART. Oh, well, you were comfortable enough there.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, but I shall not be staying there after all.

ERHART. Indeed? Why not?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I changed my mind after coming out here.

ERHART. [Surprised.] Really? Changed you mind?

MRS. BORKMAN. [Crocheting; without looking up.] Your aunt will live here, in her own house, Erhart.

ERHART. [Looking from one to the other alternately.] Here, with us? Is this true, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, that is what I made up my mind to do.

MRS. BORKMAN. [As before.] Everything here belongs to your aunt, you know.

ELLA RENTHEIM. I intend to remain here, Erhart--just now--for the present. I shall set up a little establishment of my own, over in the bailiff's wing.

ERHART. Ah, that's a good idea. There are plenty of rooms there. [With sudden vivacity.] But, by-the-bye, Aunt--aren't you very tired after your journey?

ELLA RENTHEIM. Oh yes, rather tired.

ERHART. Well, then, I think you ought to go quite early to bed.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looks at him smilingly.] I mean to.

ERHART. [Eagerly.] And then we could have a good long talk to-morrow-- or some other day, of course--about this and that--about things in general--you and mother and I.  Wouldn't that be much the best plan, Aunt Ella?

MRS. BORKMAN. [With an outburst, rising from the sofa.] Erhart, I can see you are going to leave me!

ERHART. [Starts.] What do you mean by that?

MRS. BORKMAN. You are going down to--to the Hinkels'?

ERHART. [Involuntarily.] Oh, that! [Collecting himself.] Well, you wouldn't have me sit here and keep Aunt Ella up half the night? Remember, she's an invalid, mother.

MRS. BORKMAN. You are going to the Hinkels', Erhart!

ERHART. [Impatiently.] Well, really, mother, I don't think I can well get out of it. What do you say, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM. I should like you to feel quite free, Erhart.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Goes up to her menacingly.] You want to take him away from me!

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Rising.] Yes, if only I could, Gunhild! [Music is heard from above.

ERHART. [Writhing as if in pain.] Oh, I can't endure this! [Looking round.] What have I done with my hat? [To ELLA RENTHEIM.] Do you know the air that she is playing up there?

ELLA RENTHEIM. No. What is it?

ERHART. It's the _Danse Macabre_--the Dance of Death! Don't you know the Dance of Death, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Smiling sadly.] Not yet, Erhart.

ERHART. [To MRS. BORKMAN.] Mother--I beg and implore you--let me go!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looks hardly at him.] Away from your mother? So that is what you want to do?

ERHART. Of course I'll come out again--to-morrow perhaps.

MRS. BORKMAN. [With passionate emotion.] You want to go away from me! To be with those strange people! With--with--no, I will not even think of it!

ERHART. There are bright lights down there, and young, happy faces; and there's music there, mother!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Pointing upwards.] There is music here, too, Erhart.

ERHART. Yes, it's just that music that drives me out of the house.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Do you grudge your father a moment of self-forgetfulness?

ERHART. No, I don't. I'm very, very glad that he should have it--if only _I_ don't have to listen.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Looking solemnly at him.] Be strong, Erhart! Be strong, my son! Do not forget that you have your great mission.

ERHART. Oh, mother--do spare me these phrases! I wasn't born to be a "missionary."--Good-night, aunt dear! Good-night, mother. [He goes hastily out through the hall.

MRS. BORKMAN. [After a short silence.] It has not taken you long to recapture him, Ella, after all.
 * 06

ELLA RENTHEIM. I wish I could believe it.

MRS. BORKMAN. But you shall see you won't be allowed to keep him long.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Allowed? By you, do you mean?

MRS. BORKMAN. By me or--by her, the other one

ELLA RENTHEIM. Then rather she than you.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Nodding slowly.] That I understand. I say the same. Rather she than you.

ELLA RENTHEIM. Whatever should become of him in the end

MRS. BORKMAN. It wouldn't greatly matter, I should say.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Taking her outdoor things upon her arm.] For the first time in our lives, we twin sisters are of one mind. Good-night, Gunhild.

[She goes out by the hall. The music sounds louder from above.

MRS. BORKMAN. [Stands still for a moment, starts, shrinks together, and whispers involuntarily.] The wolf is whining again--the sick wolf. [She stands still for a moment, then flings herself down on the floor, writhing in agony and whispering:] Erhart! Erhart!--be true to me! Oh, come home and help your mother! For I can bear this life no longer!
 * 07

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