"Put that nasty pigstol down!"
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 arms 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 Ekdal comes out of a corner with a fowl on each shoulder, and bursts into tears. Affecting family picture.
Gregers.
[Annoyed.] It's all very pretty, I dare say—but it's not Ibsen! My real mission 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'll soon make a valid instrument of it again.
[He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain slowly descends.
PILL-DOCTOR HERDAL
[Prefatory Note.—The original title—Mester-Pjil-drögster Herdal—would sound a trifle too uncouth to the Philistine ear, and is therefore modified as above, although the term "drögster," strictly speaking, denotes a practitioner who has not received a regular diploma].
ACT FIRST
An elegantly furnished drawing-room at Dr. Herdal's. In front, on the left, a console-table, on which is a large round bottle full of coloured water. On the right a stove, with a banner-screen made out of a richly-embroidered chest-protector. On the stove, a stethoscope and a small galvanic battery. In one corner, a hat and umbrella stand: in another, a desk, at which stands Senna Blakdraf, making out the quarterly accounts. Through a glass-door at the back is seen the Dispensary, where Rübub Kalomel is seated, occupied in rolling a pill. Both go on working in perfect silence for four minutes and a half.
Dr. Haustus Herdal.
[Enters through hall-door; he is elderly, with a plain sensible countenance, but slightly weak hair and expression.] Come here Miss Blakdraf. [Hangs up hat, and throws his mackintosh on a divan.] Have you made out all those bills yet?
[Looks sternly at her.
Senna.
[In a low hesitating voice.] Almost. I have charged each patient with three attendances daily. Even when you only dropped in for a cup of tea and a chat. [Passionately.] I felt I must—I must!
Dr. Herdal.
[Alters his tone, clasps her head in his hands, and whispers.] I wish you could make out the bills for me, always.
Senna.
[In nervous exaltation.] How lovely that would be! Oh, you are so unspeakably good to me! It is too enthralling to be here!
[Sinks down and embraces his knees.
Dr. Herdal.
So I've understood. [With suppressed irritation.] For goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do wish you wouldn't be so confoundedly neurotic!
