(SCENE.--At the "View," a shrub-covered hill behind the town. Alittle in the background, a beacon and a vane. Great stones arranged as seats around the beacon, and in the foreground.
Farther back the outer fjord is seen, with islands and outstanding headlands. The open sea is not visible. It is a summer's evening, and twilight. A golden-red shimmer is in the airand over the mountain-tops in the far distance. A quartette is faintly heard singing below in the background. Young townsfolk, ladies and gentlemen, come up in pairs, from the right, and, talking familiarly, pass out beyond the beacon. A little after, BALLESTED enters, as guide to a party of foreign tourists with their ladies. He is laden with shawls and travelling bags.)Ballested (pointing upwards with a stick). Sehen Sie, meine Herrschaften, dort, out there, liegt eine andere mountain, That wollen wir also besteigen, and so herunter. (He goes on with the conversation in French, and leads the party off to the left.
HILDE comes quickly along the uphill path, stands still, and looks back. Soon after BOLETTE comes up the same way.)Bolette. But, dear, why should we run away from Lyngstrand?
Hilde. Because I can't bear going uphill so slowly. Look--look at him crawling up!
Bolette. Ah! But you know how delicate he is.
Hilde. Do you think it's very--dangerous?
Bolette. I certainly do.
Hilde. He went to consult father this afternoon. I should like to know what father thinks about him.
Bolette. Father told me it was a thickening of the lungs, or something of the sort. He won't live to be old, father says.
Hilde. No! Did he say it? Fancy--that's exactly what I thought.
Bolette. For heaven's sake don't show it!
Hilde. How can you imagine such a thing? (In an undertone.) Look, here comes Hans crawling up. Don't you think you can see by the look of him that he's called Hans?
Bolette (whispering). Now do behave! You'd better!
(LYNGSTRAND comes in from the right, a parasol in his hand.)Lyngstrand. I must beg the young ladies to excuse me for not getting along as quickly as they did.
Hilde. Have you got a parasol too, now?
Lyngstrand. It's your mother's. She said I was to use it as a stick.
I hadn't mine with me.
Bolette. Are they down there still--father and the others?
Lyngstrand. Yes; your father looked in at the restaurant for a moment, and the others are sitting out there listening to the music. But they were coming up here presently, your mother said.
Hilde (stands looking at him). I suppose you're thoroughly tired out now?
Lyngstrand. Yes; I almost think I'm a little tired now. I really believe I shall have to sit down a moment. (He sits on one of the stones in the foreground.)Hilde (standing in front of him). Do you know there's to be dancing down there on the parade?
Lyngstrand. Yes; I heard there was some talk about it.
Hilde. I suppose you think dancing's great fun?
Bolette (who begins gathering small flowers among the heather).
Oh, Hilde! Now do let Mr. Lyngstrand get his breath.
Lyngstrand (to HILDE). Yes, Miss Hilde; I should very much like to dance--if only I could.
Hilde. Oh, I see! Haven't you ever learnt?
Lyngstrand. No, I've not. But it wasn't that I meant. I meant Icouldn't because of my chest.
Hilde. Because of that weakness you said you suffered from?
Lyngstrand. Yes; because of that.
Hilde. Aren't you very sorry you've that--weakness?
Lyngstrand. Oh, no! I can't say I am (smiling), for I think it's because of it that everyone is so good, and friendly, and kind to me.
Hilde. Yes. And then, besides, it's not dangerous.
Lyngstrand. No; it's not at all dangerous. So I gathered from what your father said to me.
Hilde. And then it will pass away as soon as ever you begin travelling.
Lyngstrand. Of course it will pass away.
Bolette (with flowers). Look here, Mr. Lyngstrand, you are to put this in your button-hole.
Lyngstrand. Oh! A thousand thanks, Miss Wangel. It's really too good of you.
Hilde (looking down the path). There they are, coming along the road.
Bolette (also looking down). If only they know where to turn off.
No; now they're going wrong.
Lyngstrand (rising). I'll run down to the turning and call out to them.
Hilde. You'll have to call out pretty loud.
Bolette. No; it's not worth while. You'll only tire yourself again.
Lyngstrand. Oh, it's so easy going downhill. (Goes off to the right.)Hilde. Down-hill--yes. (Looking after him.) Why, he's actually jumping! And he never remembers he'll have to come up again.
Bolette. Poor fellow!
Hilde. If Lyngstrand were to propose, would you accept him?
Bolette. Are you quite mad?
Hilde. Of course, I mean if he weren't troubled with that "weakness." And if he weren't to die so soon, would you have him then?
Bolette. I think you'd better have him yourself!
Hilde. No, that I wouldn't! Why, he hasn't a farthing. He hasn't enough even to keep himself.
Bolette. Then why are you always going about with him?
Hilde. Oh, I only do that because of the weakness.
Bolette. I've never noticed that you in the least pity him for it!
Hilde. No, I don't. But I think it so interesting.
Bolette. What is?
Hilde. To look at him and make him tell you it isn't dangerous;and that he's going abroad, and is to be an artist. He really believes it all, and is so thoroughly happy about it. And yet nothing will ever come of it; nothing whatever. For he won't live long enough. I feel that's so fascinating to think of.
Bolette. Fascinating!
Hilde. Yes, I think it's most fascinating. I take that liberty.
Bolette. Hilde, you really are a dreadful child!
Hilde. That's just what I want to be--out of spite. (Looking down.) At last! I shouldn't think Arnholm liked coming up-hill.
(Turns round.) By the way, do you know what I noticed about Arnholm at dinner?
Bolette. Well?
Hilde. Just think--his hair's beginning to come off--right on the top of his head.
Bolette. Nonsense! I'm sure that's not true.
Hilde. It is! And then he has wrinkles round both his eyes. Good gracious, Bolette, how could you be so much in love with him when he used to read with you?
