 A Doll's House. A Play by Henrik Ibsen. Act 1. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Part of Torveld Helmer, performed by David Monkaster, www.davidmonkaster.com. Part of Nora, read by Elizabeth Clatt. Part of Dr. Rank, performed by Andy from Enveron and Scotland. Part of Mrs. Lind, read by Miranda Stinson. Part of Krogstad, performed by Jordan Schneider of New York City at teenfreedom.org. Part of The Children, performed by Alatheia, Stillwater, Oklahoma. The part of Ann the nurse is performed by Lana Jordan. Part of A Housemaid, performed by Anna Simon. Part of The Porter, performed by M.B. Narrated by Alatheia, Stillwater, Oklahoma. Act 1. Scene. A room furnished comfortably and tastefully, but not extravagantly. At the back, a door to the right leads to the entrance hall. Further to the left leads to Helmer's study. Between the door stands a piano. In the middle of the left-hand wall is a door, and beyond it a window. Near the window are a round table, armchairs, and a small sofa. In the right-hand wall at the farther end, another door, and on the same side, nearer the footlights, a stove, two easy chairs, and a rocking chair. Between the stove and the door, a small table. Ingravings on the walls, a cabinet with china and other small objects, a small bookcase with well-bound books. The floors are carpeted, and a fire burns in the stove. It is winter. A bell rings in the hall. Shortly afterward the door is heard to open. Enter Nora, humming a tune and in high spirits. She is an outdoor dress and carries a number of parcels. These she lays on the table to the right. She leaves the outer door open after her, and through it is seen a porter who is carrying a Christmas tree in a basket, which he gives to the maid who has opened the door. Hide the Christmas tree carefully, Helen. Be sure the children do not see it until this evening when it is dressed. To the porter, taking out her purse. How much? Sixpence. There is a shilling. No, keep the change. The porter thanks her and goes out. Nora shuts the door. She is laughing to herself as she takes off her hat and coat. She takes a packet of macaroons from her pocket and eats one or two, then goes cautiously to her husband's door and listens. Yes, he is in. Still humming, she goes to the table on the right, calls out from his room. Is that my little lark twittering out there? Busy opening some of the parcels. Yes it is. Is it my little squirrel bustling about? Yes. When did my squirrel come home? Just now. Puts the bag of macaroons into her pocket and wipes her mouth. Come in here, Torvald, and see what I have bought. Don't disturb me. A little later he opens the door and looks into the room, pen in hand. What did you say? All these things? Has my little spendthrift been wasting money again? Yes, but Torvald, this year we really can let ourselves go a little. This is the first Christmas that we have not needed to economise. Still you know we can't spend money recklessly. Yes, Torvald, we may be a wee bit more reckless now, may it we? Just a tiny wee bit? You are going to have a big salary and earn lots and lots of money. Yes, after the new year, but then he will be a whole quarter before salary is due. Poo! We can borrow until then. Nora goes up to her and takes her playfully by the ear. The same little featherhead. Suppose now that I borrowed fifty pounds today, and you spent it all in the Christmas week, and then on New Year's Eve a slate fell on my head and killed me, and— Putting her hands over his mouth. Oh, don't say such horrid things. Still, suppose that happened. What then? If that were to happen, I don't suppose I should care whether I owed money or not. Yes, but what about the people who had lent it? They? Who would bother about them? I should not know who they were. That is like a woman. But seriously, Nora, you know what I think about that. No debt, no borrowing. There can be no freedom or beauty about a home life that depends on borrowing and debt. We too have kept bravely on the straight road so far, and we will go on the same way for the short time longer that there needs to be any struggle. Moving towards the stove. As you please, Torvald. Following her. Come, come. The dialogue must not droop her wings. What is this? Is my little squirrel out of temper? Taking out his purse. Nora, what do you think I've got here? Turning round quickly. Money. There you are. Gives her some money. Do you think I don't know what a lot is wanted for Haroski in the Christmas time? Counting. Ten shillings, a pound, two pounds. Thank you. Thank you, Torvald. That will keep me going for a long time. Indeed it must. Yes, yes it will. But come here and let me show you what I have bought, and all so cheap. Look, here is a new suit for Ivar and a sword, and a horse and a trumpet for Bob, and a doll and dolly spedstead for Emmy. They are very plain, but anyway she will soon break them in pieces, and here are dress lengths and handkerchiefs for the maids. Old Anne ought really to have something better. And what is in this parcel? Crying out. No, no, you mustn't see that until this evening. Very well. But tell me, you extravagant little person, what would you like for yourself? For myself? Oh, I'm sure I don't want anything. But you must. Tell me something reasonable that you would particularly like to have. No, I really can't think of anything. Unless, Torvald. Well? Playing with his coat-buttons, and without raising her eyes to his. If you really want to give me something, you might—you might— Well, out with it. Speaking quickly. You might give me money, Torvald, only just as much as you can afford, and then one of these days I will buy something with it. But Nora— Oh, dear, dear Torvald, please, please do, then I will wrap it up in beautiful gilt paper and hang it on the Christmas tree. Wouldn't that be fun? What a little people call that are always wasting money. Spend thrifts, I know. Let us do as you suggest, Torvald, and then I shall have time to think what I am most in want of. That is a very sensible plan, isn't it? Smiling. Indeed it is. That is to say, if you really were to save out of the money I give you, and then buy something for yourself. But if you spend it all on housekeeping and any number of unnecessary things, then I nearly have to pay up again. Oh, but Torvald— You can't deny it, my little Nora. Puts his arm around her waist. It is sweet to spend thrift, but she uses up a deal of money. One could hardly believe how expensive such little persons are. It is a shame to say that. I do really save all I can. Laughing. Very true. All you can. But you can't save anything. Smiling quietly and happily. You haven't any idea how many expenses we skylarks and squirrels have, Torvald. You are an odd little soul, very like your father. You always find some new way of weeding money out of me, and as soon as you've got it, it seems to melt in your hands. You never know where it's gone. Still, one must take you as you are. It is in the blood, for indeed it is true that you can inherit these things, Nora. Ha! I wish I had inherited many of Papa's qualities. And I would not wish you to be anything but just what you are, my little skylark. But, you know, it strikes me that you are looking rather, what shall I say, rather uneasy today. Do I? You do, really. Look straight at me. Looks at him. Well? Wagging his finger at her. Hasn't Miss Sweettooth been breaking rules in town today? No. What makes you think that? Hasn't she paid a visit to the confectioners? No. I assure you, Torvald. Not been nibbling sweets? No, certainly not. Not even taken a bite at a macaroon or two? No, Torvald. I assure you, really. There, there. Of course, I was only joking. Going to the table on the right. I should not think of going against your wishes. No, I'm sure of that. Besides, you gave me your word. Going up to her. Keep your little Christmas secrets to yourself, my darling. They will all be revealed tonight when the Christmas tree is lit, no doubt. Did you remember to invite Dr. Rang? No, but there is no need. As a matter of course, he will come to dinner with us. However, I will ask him when he comes in the morning. I have ordered some good wine. Nora, you can't think how I am looking forward to this evening. Oh, so am I. And how the children will enjoy themselves, Torvald. It is splendid to feel that one has perfectly safe an appointment. And a big enough income. It's delightful to think of it, isn't it? It's wonderful. Do you remember last Christmas? For a full three weeks beforehand, you shut yourself up every evening long after midnight, making ornaments for the Christmas tree. And all the other fine things that were to be a surprise to us. It was the dullest three weeks I ever spent. I didn't find it dull. Smiling. But there was precious little result, Nora. Oh, you shouldn't tease me about that again. How could I help the cats going in and tearing everything to pieces? Of course you couldn't, poor little girl. You had the best intentions to please us all, and that's the main thing. But it is a good thing that our hard times are over. Yes. It is really wonderful. This time I needn't sit here and be dull all alone, and you needn't ruin your dear eyes and precious little hands. Clapping her hands. No, Torvald, I needn't any longer need I. It's wonderfully lovely to hear you say so. Taking his arm. Now, I will tell you how I have been thinking we ought to arrange things, Torvald. As soon as Christmas is over. A bell rings in the hall. There's the bell. She tidies the room a little. There's someone at the door. What a nuisance. If it's a caller, remember I'm not at home. In the doorway. A lady to see you, ma'am, a stranger. Ask her to come in. To Helmer. The doctor came at the same time, sir. Did he go straight into my room? Yes, sir. Helmer goes into his room. The maid ushers in Mrs. Lind, who is in traveling dress, and shuts the door in a dejected and timid voice. How do you do, Nora? Doubtfully. How do you do? You don't recognize me, I suppose. No, I don't know. Yes, to be sure I seem to. Suddenly. Yes! Christine! Is it really you? Yes, it is I. Oh, Christine! To think of my not recognizing you. And yet how could I? In a gentle voice. How you have altered, Christine. Yes, I have indeed. In nine, ten long years... Is it so long since we met? I suppose it is. The last eight years have been a happy time for me, I can tell you. And so now you have come into the town and have taken this long journey in winter. That was plucky of you. I arrived by steamer this morning. To have some fun at Christmas time, of course. How delightful! We will have such fun together. But take off your things. You are not cold, I hope. Helps her. Now we will sit down by the stove and be cozy. No, take the armchair. I will sit here in the rocking chair. Takes her hands. Now you look like your old self again. It was only the first moment. You are a little paler, Christine. And perhaps a little thinner. And much, much older, Nora. Perhaps a little older. Very, very little. Certainly not much. Stop suddenly and speak seriously. What a thoughtless creature I am. Chattering away like this. My poor dear Christine, do forgive me. What do you mean, Nora? Gently. Poor Christine. You are a widow. Yes. It is three years ago now. Yes, I knew. I saw it in the papers. I assure you, Christine, I meant ever so often to write to you at the time. But I always put it off. And something always prevented me. I quite understand, dear. It was very bad of me, Christine. Poor thing. How you must have suffered. And he left you nothing. No. And no children. No. Nothing at all, then. Not even the Nisara wore grief to live upon. Looking incredulously at her. But Christine, is that possible? Smile sadly and strokes her hair. It sometimes happens, Nora. So you are quite alone. How dreadfully sad that must be. I have three lovely children. You can't see them just now, for they are out with their nurse. But now you must tell me all about it. No, no. I want to hear about you. No. You must begin. I mustn't be selfish today. Today I must only think of your affairs. But there is one thing I must tell you. Do you know we have just had a great piece of good luck? No. What is it? Just fancy. My husband has been made manager of the bank. Your husband? What good luck? Yes. Tremendous. A barrister's profession is such an uncertain thing, especially if he won't undertake unsavory cases, and naturally Torvald has never been willing to do that, and I quite agree with him. You may imagine how pleased we are. He is to take up his work in the bank at the new year, and then he will have a big salary and lots of commissions. For the future we can live quite differently. We can do just as we like. I feel so relieved and so happy, Christine. It'll be splendid to have heaps of money and not need to have any anxiety, won't it? Yes. Anyhow, I think it would be delightful to have what one needs. No. Not only what one needs, but heaps and heaps of money. Smiling. Nora, Nora, haven't you learned sense yet? In our school days you were always a great spendthrift. Laughing. Yes, that is what Torvald says now. Wags her finger at her. But Nora, Nora, is not so silly as you think. We have not been in a position for me to waste money. We have both had to work. You too. Yes. Odds and ends, needlework, crochet work, embroidery and that kind of thing. And other things as well. You know Torvald left his office when we were married. There was no prospect of promotion there, and he had to try and earn more than before. But during the first year he overworked himself dreadfully. You see, he had to make money every way he could, and he worked early and late, but he couldn't stand it, and fell dreadfully ill, and the doctors said it was necessary for him to go south. You spent a whole year in Italy, didn't you? Yes. It was no easy matter to get away, I can tell you. It was just after Ivar was born, but naturally we had to go. It was a wonderfully beautiful journey, and it saved Torvald's life. But it cost a tremendous lot of money, Christine. So I should think. It cost about two hundred and fifty pounds. That's a lot, isn't it? Yes, and in emergencies like that it is lucky to have the money. I ought to tell you that we had it from Papa. Oh, I see. It was just about that time that you died, wasn't it? Yes, and just think of it. I couldn't go and nurse him. I was expecting Little Ivar's birth every day, and I had my poor sick Torvald to look after. My dear kind father. I never saw him again, Christine. That was the saddest time I have known since our marriage. I know how fond you were of him. Then you went off to Italy. Yes. You see, we had money then, and the doctors insisted on our going, so we started a month later. And your husband came back quite well. A sound as a bell. But the doctor. What doctor? I thought your maid said the gentleman who arrived here just as I did was the doctor. Oh, yes, that was Dr. Rank, but he doesn't come here professionally. He is our greatest friend, and comes in at least once every day. No, Torvald has not had an hour's illness since then, and our children are strong and healthy, and so am I. Jumps up and claps her hands. Oh, Christine! Christine, it's good to be alive and happy. Oh, but how horrid of me! I'm talking of nothing but my own affairs. Sits on a stool near her, and rests her arms on her knees. You mustn't be angry with me. Tell me, is it really true that you did not love your husband? Why did you marry him? My mother was alive then, and was bedridden and helpless, and I had to provide for my two younger brothers. So I did not think I was justified in refusing his offer. No, perhaps you were quite right. He was rich at that time then. I believe he was quite well off. But his business was a precarious one, and when he died it all went to pieces, and there was nothing left. And then? Well, I had to turn my hand to anything I could find. Just a small shop, then a small school, and so on. The last three years have seemed like one long working day, with no rest. Now it is at an end, Nora. My poor mother needs me no more, for she is gone. And the boys do not need me either. They have got situations and can shift for themselves. What a relief you must feel, if— No, indeed. I only feel my life unspeakably empty. No one to live for any more. What's up restlessly? That is why I could not stand the life in my little backwater any longer. I hope it may be easier here to find something which will busy me and occupy my thoughts. If only I could have the good luck to get some regular work—office work of some kind. But Christine, that is so frightfully tiring, and you look tired out now. You would far better go away to some watering-place. Walking to the window. I have no father to give me money for a journey, Nora. Nothing. Oh, don't be angry with me. Going up to her. It is you that must not be angry with me, dear. The worst of a position like mine is that it makes one so bitter. No one to work for and yet obliged to be always on the lookout for chances. One must live, and so one becomes selfish. When you told me of the happy turn your fortunes have taken, you will hardly believe it. I was delighted not so much on your account as on my own. How do you mean? Oh, I understand. You mean that perhaps Torvald could get you something to do. Yes, that was what I was thinking of. He must, Christine. Just leave it to me. I will broach the subject very cleverly. I will think of something that will please him very much. It will make me so happy to be of some use to you. How kind you are, Nora, to be so anxious to help me. It is doubly kind in you, for you know so little of the burdens and troubles of life. I? I know so little of them? Smiling. My dear, small household cares and that sort of thing. You were a child, Nora. Tosses her head and crosses the stage. You ought not to be so superior. No. You are just like the others. They all think that I am incapable of anything really serious. Come, come. That I have gone through nothing in this world of cares. My dear Nora, you have just told me all your troubles. Poo! Those were trifles. Lowering her voice. I have not told you the important thing. The important thing? What do you mean? You look down upon me altogether, Christine, but you ought not to. You are proud, aren't you, of having worked so hard and so long for your mother? Indeed, I don't look down on anyone. But it is true that I am both proud and glad to think that I was privileged to make the end of my mother's life almost free from care. And you are proud to think of what you have done for your brothers? I think I have the right to be. I think so too. But now listen to this. I too have something to be proud and glad of. I have no doubt you have. But what do you refer to? Speak low. Suppose Torvald were to hear. He mustn't onto any account. No one in the world must know, Christine, except you. But what is it? Come here. Place her down on the sofa beside her. Now, I will show you that I too have something to be proud and glad of. It was I who saved Torvald's life. Saved? How? I told you about our trip to Italy. Torvald would never have recovered if he had not gone there. Yes, but your father gave you the necessary funds. Smiling. Yes, that is what Torvald and the others think, but— But— Papa didn't give us a shilling. It was I who procured the money. You? All that large sum. Two hundred and fifty pounds. What do you think of that? But Nora, how could you possibly do it? Did you win a prize in the lottery? Contemptuously. In the lottery? There would have been no credit in that. But where did you get it from, then? Humming and smiling with an air of mystery. Hmm, hmm, ha. Because you couldn't have borrowed it. I? Why not? No, a wife cannot borrow without her husband's consent. Tossing her head. Oh, if it is a wife who has any head for business, a wife who has the wit to be a little bit clever. I don't understand it all, Nora. There is no need you should. I never said I had borrowed the money. I may have got it some other way. Lies back on the sofa. Perhaps I got it from some other admirer. When anyone is as attractive as I am. You are a mad creature. Now, you know you're full of curiosity, Christine. Listen to me, Nora, dear. Haven't you been a little bit imprudent? Sits up straight. Is it imprudent to save your husband's life? It seems to me imprudent without his knowledge to— But it was absolutely necessary that he should not know. My goodness, can't you understand that? It was necessary he should have no idea what a dangerous condition he was in. It was to me that the doctors came and said that his life was in danger, and that the only thing to save him was to live in the south. Do you suppose I didn't try, first of all, to get what I wanted as if it were for myself? I told him how much I should love to travel abroad like other young wives. I tried tears and entreaties with him. I told him that he ought to remember the condition I was in, and that he ought to be kind and indulgent to me. I even hinted that he might raise a loan. That nearly made him angry, Christine. He said I was thoughtless, and that it was his duty as my husband not to indulge me in my whims and caprices, as I believe he called them. Very well, I thought. You must be saved. And that was how I came to devise a way out of the difficulty. And did your husband never get to know from your father that the money had not come from him? No. Never. Papa died just at that time. I had meant to let him into the secret and beg him never to reveal it. But he was so ill then. Alas, there was never any need to tell him. And since then you have never told your secret to your husband. Good heavens, no! How could you think so? A man who has such strong opinions about these things, and besides how painful and humiliating it would be for Torvald, with his manly independence, to know that he owed me anything. It would upset our mutual relations altogether. Our beautiful happy home would be no longer what it is now. Do you mean never to tell him about it? Meditatively, and with a half-smile. Yes. Someday, perhaps, after many years, when I am no longer as nice-looking as I am now. Don't laugh at me. I mean, of course, when Torvald is no longer as devoted to me as he is now, when my dancing and dressing up and reciting have pawled on him, then it may be a good thing to have something in reserve. Breaking off. Oh! But nonsense! That time will never come. Now what do you think of my great secret, Christine? Do you still think I am of no use? I can tell you, too, that this affair has caused me a lot of worry. It has been my no means easy for me to meet my engagements punctually. I may tell you that there is something that is called, in business, quarterly interest, and another thing called payment in installments, and it is always so dreadfully difficult to manage them. I have had to save a little here and there, where I could, you understand. I have not been able to put aside much from my housekeeping money, for Torvald must have a good table. I couldn't let my children be shabbily dressed. I have felt obliged to use up all he gave me for them, the sweet little darlings. So it has all had to come out of your own necessaries of life, poor Nora. Of course. Besides, I was the one responsible for it. Whenever Torvald has given me money for new dresses and such things, I have never spent more than half of it. I have always bought the simplest and cheapest things. Thank heaven any clothes look well on me, and so Torvald has never noticed it. But it was often very hard on me, Christine, because it is delightful to be really well dressed, isn't it? Quite so. Much better than I have found other ways of earning money. Last winter I was lucky enough to get a lot of copying to do, so I locked myself up and sat writing every evening until quite late at night. Many a time I was desperately tired. But all the same it was a tremendous pleasure to sit there working and earning money. It was like being a man. How much have you been able to pay off in that way? I can't tell you exactly. You see, it is very difficult to keep an account of a business matter of that kind. I only know that I have paid every penny that I could scrape together. Many a time I was at my wit's end. Smiles. Then I used to sit here and imagine that a rich old gentleman had fallen in love with me. What? Who was it? Be quiet. That he had died and that when his will was opened it contained, written in big letters, the instruction, the lovely Mrs. Nora Helmers to have all I possess paid over to her at once in cash. Puss my dear Nora, who could the man be? Could gracious, can't you understand? There was no old gentleman at all. It was only something that I used to sit here and imagine when I couldn't think of any way of procuring money. But it's all the same now. The tiresome old person can stay where he is as far as I'm concerned. I don't care about him or his will either, for I am free from care now. Jumps up. My goodness! It's delightful to think of Christine. Free from care. To be able to be free from care, quite free from care. To be able to play and romp with the children. To be able to keep the house beautifully and have everything just as Torvald likes it. And think of it, soon the spring will come and the big blue sky. Perhaps we shall be able to take a little trip. Perhaps I shall see the sea again. Oh, it's a wonderful thing to be alive and to be happy. A bell is heard in the hall. Rising. Where's the bell? Perhaps I had better go. No. Don't go. No one will come in here. It is sure to be for Torvald. At the hall door. Excuse me, ma'am. There's a gentleman to see the master, and as the doctor is with him. Who is it? At the door. It is I, Miss Helmer. Mrs. Lin starts, trembles, and turns to the window. Takes a step toward him and speaks in a strained, low voice. You. What is it? What do you want to see my husband about? Bank business. In a way. I have a small post in the bank, and I hear your husband is to be our chief now. Then it is. Nothing but dry business matters, Miss Helmer. Absolutely nothing else. Be so good as to go into the study then. She bows indifferently to him and shuts the door into the hall. Then comes back and makes up the fire in the stove. Nora. Who was that man? A lawyer. Of the name of Krogstad. Then it really was he. Do you know the man? I used to. Many years ago. At one time he was a solicitor's clerk in our town. Yes, he was. He is greatly altered. He made a very unhappy marriage. He is a widower now, isn't he? With several children. Shuts the door of the stove and moves the rocking chair aside. There now it is burning up. They say he carries on various kinds of business. Really? Perhaps he does. I don't know anything about it. Don't let us think of business. It is so tiresome. Comes out of Helmer's study. Before he shuts the door he calls to him. No, my dear fellow. I won't disturb you. I would rather go into your wife for a little while. Shuts the door and sees Mrs. Lind. I beg your pardon. I'm afraid I am disturbing you too. No, not at all. Introducing him. Dr. Rank, Mrs. Lind. I have often heard Mrs. Lind's name mentioned here. I think I passed you on the stairs when I arrived, Mrs. Lind. Yes, I go up very slowly. I can't manage stairs well. Ah, some slight internal weakness. No, the fact is I have been overworking myself. Nothing more than that. Then I suppose you have come to town to amuse yourself with our entertainments? I have come to look for work. Is that a good cure for overwork? One must live, Dr. Rank. Yes, the general opinion seems to be that it is necessary. Look here, Dr. Rank. You know you want to live. Certainly. However wretched I may feel I want to prolong the agony as long as possible. All my patients are like that, and so are those who are morally diseased. One of them, in a bad case too, is at this very moment with Helmer. Sadly. Ah, whom do you mean? A lawyer by the name of Krogstad, a fellow you don't know at all. He suffers from a diseased moral character, Mrs. Helmer, but even he began talking of its being highly important that he should live. Did he? What did he want to speak to Torvald about? I have no idea. I only heard that it was something about the bank. I didn't know this, what's his name? Krogstad had anything to do with the bank. Yes. He has some sort of appointment there. To Mrs. Lind. I don't know whether you find also in your part of the world that there are certain people who go zealously snuffing about to smell out moral corruption, and as soon as they have found some, put the person concerned into some lucrative position where they can keep their eyes on him. Healthy natures are left out in the cold. Well I think the sick are those who most need taken care of, shrugging his shoulders. Yes, there you are. That is the sentiment that is turning society into a sick house. Nora, who has been absorbed in her thoughts, breaks out into smothered laughter and claps her hands. Why do you laugh at that? Have you any notion what society really is? What do I care about tiresome society? I am laughing at something quite different. Something extremely amusing. Tell me, Dr. Rank, are all the people who are employed in the bank dependent on Torvald now? Is that what you find so extremely amusing? Smiling and humming. That's my affair. Walking about the room. It's perfectly glorious to think that we have, that Torvald has so much power over so many people. Takes the packet from her pocket. Dr. Rank, what do you say to a macaroon? Macaroons? I thought they were forbidden here. Yes, but these are some Christine gave me. What I— Oh, well, don't be alarmed. You couldn't know that Torvald had forbidden them. I must tell you that he is afraid they will spoil my teeth. But, bah, once in a way, that so, isn't it, Dr. Rank, by your leave? Put some macaroon into his mouth. You must have one too, Christine, and I shall have one. Just a little one, or at most two. Walking about. I am tremendously happy. There is just one thing in the world now that I should dearly love to do. Well, what is that? It's something I should dearly love to say if Torvald could hear me. Well, why can't you say it? No, I dare not. It's so shocking. Shocking? Well, I should not advise you to say it. Still, with us you might. What is it you would so much like to say if Torvald could hear you? I should just love to say, well, I'm damned. Are you mad? Norah, dear. Say it, here he is. Hiding the packet. Hush, hush, hush! Helmer comes out of his room with his coat over his arm and his hat in his hand. Well, Torvald dear, have you got rid of him? Yes, he has just gone. Let me introduce you. This is Christine who has come to town. Christine? Excuse me, but I don't know. This is Lind dear, Christine Lind. Of course. A school friend of my wife's, I presume. Yes, we have known each other since then. And just think she has taken a long journey in order to see you. What do you mean? No, really, I- Christine is tremendously clever at bookkeeping, and she is frightfully anxious to work under some clever man, so as to perfect herself. Very sensible, Mrs. Lind. And when she heard you had been appointed manager of the bank, the news was telegraphed, you know. Torvald here as quick as she could. Torvald, I am sure you will be able to do something for Christine, for my sake, won't you? Well, it's not altogether impossible. I presume you are a widow, Mrs. Lind. Yes. And have had some experience of bookkeeping. Yes, a fair amount. Ah, well, it's very likely I may be able to find something for you. Clapping her hands. What did I tell you? What did I tell you? You have come at a very fortunate moment, Mrs. Lind. How am I to thank you? There is no need. Puts on his coat. But to-day you must excuse me. Wait a minute, I will come with you. Brings his fur coat from the hall and warms it at the fire. Don't be away long, Torvald, dear. About an hour, not more. Are you going to, Christine? Putting on her cloak. Yes, I must go and look for a room. Oh, well, then, we can walk down the street together. Helping her. What a pity it is we're so short of space here. I am afraid it is impossible for us. Please don't think of it. Goodbye, Nora, dear, and many thanks. Goodbye for the present. Of course you will come back this evening. And you too, Dr. Rank. What do you say, if you're well enough? Oh, you must be. Wrap yourself up well. They go to the door all talking together. Children's voices are heard on the staircase. Oh, there they are! There they are! She runs to open the door. The nurse comes in with the children. Come in, come in! Stoops and kisses them. Oh, you sweet blessings! Look at them, Christine! Aren't they darlings? Don't let us stand here in the draft. Come along, Mrs. Lind. The place will only be bearable for a mother now. Ronk, Helmer, and Mrs. Lind go downstairs. The nurse comes forward with the children. Nora shuts the hall door. How fresh and well you look! Such red cheeks like apples and roses. The children all talk at once while she speaks to them. Have you had great fun? That's splendid. What? You pulled both Emmy and Bob along on the sledge, both at once. That was good. You are a clever boy, Ivar. Let me take her for a little, Anne, my sweet little baby doll. Takes the baby from the maid and dances it up and down. Yes, yes, mother will dance with Bob, too. What? Have you been snowballing? I wish I had been there, too. No, no, I will take their things off, Anne. Please let me do it. It is such fun. Go in now. You look half frozen. There is some hot coffee for you on the stove. The nurse goes into the room on the left. Nora takes off to children's things and throws them about, while they all talk to her at once. Really? Did a big dog run after you? But it didn't bite you. No, dogs don't bite nice little dolly children. You mustn't look at the parcels, Ivar. What are they? Oh, I daresay you would like to know. No, no, it's something nasty. Come, let us have a game. What shall we play at? Hide and seek? Yes, we'll play hide and seek. Bob shall hide first. Must I hide? Very well, I'll hide first. Me and the children laugh and shout and romp in and out of the room. At last Nora hides under the table. The children rush in and out for her but do not see her. They hear her smothered laughter, run to the table, lift up the cloth and find her. Shouts of laughter. She crawls forward and pretends to frighten them. Fresh laughter. Meanwhile, there has been a knock at the hall door, but none of them has noticed it. The door is half opened and Crogstad appears, lies wait a little. The game goes on. Excuse me, Miss Helmer. With a stifled cry turns round and gets up onto her knees. Excuse me, the outer door was ajar, I suppose someone forgot to shut it. Rising. My husband is out, Mr. Crogstad. I know that. What do you want here, then? A word with you. With me? To the children gently. Go into nurse. What? No, this strange man won't do mother any harm. When he is gone, we will have another game. She takes the children into the room on the left and shuts the door after them. You want to speak to me? Yes, I do. Today. It is not the first of the month yet. No, it's Christmas Eve and it will depend on yourself what sort of a Christmas Eve you will spend. What do you mean? Today is absolutely impossible for me. We won't talk about that until later on. This is something different. I presume you could give me a moment? Yes, yes I can, although… Good. I was in Miss Olson's restaurant and I saw your husband going down the street. Yes. With a lady. What then? May I make so bold as to ask if it was a Miss Lind? It was. Just arrived in town? Yes, today. She is a great friend of yours, isn't she? She is, but I don't see. I know her too, once upon a time. I am aware of that. Are you? So you know all about that, huh? I thought as much. Then I can ask you, without beating around the bush, is Miss Lind to have an appointment at the bank? What right have you to question me, Mr. Krogstad? You one of my husband's subordinates. But since you ask, you shall know. Yes, Mrs. Lind is to have an appointment, and it was I who pleaded her cause, Mr. Krogstad. Let me tell you that. I was right in what I thought then. Walking up and down the stage. Sometimes one has a tiny little bit of influence, I should hope. Because one is a woman, it does not necessarily follow that. When anyone is in a subordinate position, Mr. Krogstad, they should really be careful to avoid offending anyone who—who— Who has influence? Exactly. Changing his tone. Miss Helmer. Will you be so good as to use your influence on my behalf? What? What do you mean? You will be so kind as to see that I am allowed to keep my subordinate position at the bank. What do you mean by that? Who proposes to take your post away from you? Oh, there is no necessity to keep up the pretence of ignorance. I can quite understand that your friend is not very anxious to expose herself to the chance of rubbing shoulders with me. I quite understand, too, whom I have to thank for being turned off. But I assure you— Very likely. But, to come to the point, the time has come when I should advise you to use your influence to prevent that. But, Mr. Krogstad, I have no influence. Haven't you? I thought you said yourself just now— Naturally, I did not mean you to put that construction on it. I? What should make you think I have any influence of that kind with my husband? Oh, I have known your husband from our student days. I don't suppose he is any more unassailable than other husbands. If you speak slightingly of my husband, I shall turn you out of the house. You are bold, Miss Helmer. I am not afraid of you any longer. As soon as the new year comes, I shall in a very short time be free of the whole thing. Controlling himself. Listen to me, Miss Helmer. If necessary, I am prepared to fight for my small post in the bank as if I were fighting for my life. So it seems. It is not only for the sake of money. Indeed, that weighs least on me in this matter. There is another reason. Well, I may as well tell you. My position is this. I dare say you know, like everybody else, that once, many years ago, I was guilty of an indiscretion. I think I have heard something of the kind. The matter never came to court. But every way seemed to be closed to me after that. So I took to the business that you know of. I had to do something, and honestly, I don't think I've been one of the worst. But now I must cut myself free from all that. My sons are growing up. For their sake, I must try and win back as much respect as I can in this town. This post in the bank was like a first step up for me. And now your husband is going to kick me downstairs again into the mud. But you must believe me, Mr. Krogstad. It is not in my power to help you at all. Then it is because you haven't the will. But I have means to compel you. You don't mean that you will tell my husband that I owe you money? Hmm. Suppose I were to tell him. It would be perfectly infamous of you, Sobbing, to think of his learning my secret, which has been my pride and joy in such an ugly, clumsy way that he should learn it from you. And it would put me in such a horribly disagreeable position. Only disagreeable? Impetuously. Well, do it then, and it will be the worst for you. My husband will see for himself what a blaggard you are, and you certainly won't keep your post then. I asked you if it was only a disagreeable scene at home that you were afraid of? If my husband does get to know of it, of course he will at once pay you what is still owing, and we shall have nothing more to do with you. Coming a step nearer. Listen to me, Miss Helmer. Whether you have a very bad memory or you know very little of business, I shall be obliged to remind you of a few details. What do you mean? When your husband was ill, you came to me to borrow 250 pounds. I didn't know anyone else to go to. I promised to get you that amount. Yes, and you did so. I promised to get you that amount on certain conditions. Your mind was so taken up with your husband's illness, and you were so anxious to get the money for your journey that you seem to have paid no attention to the conditions of our bargain. Therefore, it will not be a miss if I remind you of them. Now I promised to get the money on the security of a bond which I drew up. Yes, and which I signed. Good. But below your signature there were a few lines constituting your father as a surity for the money. Those lines your father should have signed. Sure, he did sign them. I had left the date blank. That is to say, your father should himself have inserted the date on which he signed the paper. Do you remember that? Yes, I think I remember. Then I gave you the bond to send by post to your father. Is that not so? Yes. And naturally you did so at once, because five or six days afterwards you bought me the bond with your father's signature. And then I gave you the money. Well, haven't I been paying it off regularly? Fairly so. Yes, but to come back to the matter at hand, that must have been a very trying time for you, Miss Helmer. It was indeed. Your father was very ill, wasn't he? He was very near his end. And died soon afterwards? Yes. Tell me, Miss Helmer, can you by any chance remember the day your father died? On what day of the month, I mean? Papa died on the 29th of September. That is correct. I have ascertained it for myself. And as that is so, there is a discrepancy which I cannot account for. What discrepancy? I don't know. This discrepancy exists, Miss Helmer, in the fact that your father signed this bond three days after his death. What do you mean? I don't understand. Your father died on the 29th of September. But look here. Your father dated his signature the 2nd of October. It is a discrepancy, isn't it? Nora is silent. Can you explain it to me? Nora is still silent. It is a remarkable thing, too, that the words 2nd of October, as well as a year, are not written in your father's handwriting, but one that I think I know. Well, of course it can be explained. Your father may have forgotten to date his signature, and someone else may have dated it haphazard before they knew of his death. There's no harm in that. It all depends on the signature of the name. And that is genuine, I suppose, Miss Helmer. It is your father himself who signed his name here? After a short pause throws her head up and looks defiantly at him. No. It was not. It was I that wrote Papa's name. Are you aware that is a dangerous confession? In what way? You shall have your money soon. Let me ask you a question. Why did you not send the paper to your father? It was impossible. Papa was so ill. If I had asked him for his signature, I should have had to tell him what the money was to be used for. And when he was so ill himself, I couldn't tell him that my husband's life was in danger. It was impossible. It would have been better for you if you had given up on your trip abroad. No, that was impossible. That trip was to save my husband's life. I couldn't give that up. But did it never occur to you that you were committing a fraud on me? I couldn't take that into account. I didn't trouble myself about you at all. I couldn't bear you because you put so many heartless difficulties in my way, although you knew what a dangerous condition my husband was in. Miss Helmer, you evidently did not realize clearly what it is you have been guilty of. But I can assure you that my one false step, which lost me all my reputation, was nothing more or nothing worse than you have done. You? Did you ask me to believe that you were brave enough to run a risk to save your wife's life? The law cares nothing about motives. That it must be a very foolish law. Foolish or not, it is the law by which you will be judged if I produce this paper in court. I don't believe it. Is a daughter not to be allowed to spare her dying father anxiety and care? Is a wife not to be allowed to save her husband's life? I don't know much about law, but I am certain there must be laws permitting such things as that. Have you no knowledge of such laws? You who are a lawyer? You must be a very poor lawyer, Mr. Krogstad. Maybe. But matters of business? Such business as you and I have had together? Do you think I don't understand that? Very well. As you please. But let me tell you this. If I lose my position a second time, you shall lose yours with me. He bows and goes out through the hall. Appears buried in thought for a short time, then tosses her head. Nonsense. Trying to frighten me like that. I am not so silly as he thinks. Begins to busy herself putting the children's things in order. And yet? No. It's impossible. I did it for love's sake. In the doorway on the left. Mother, the strange man has gone out through the gate. Yes, dears, I know. But don't tell anyone about the stranger man. Do you hear? Not even papa. No, mother. But will you come and play again? No. No, not now. But, mother, you promised us. Yes, but I can't now. Run away in. I have such a lot to do. Run away in, my sweet darlings. She gets them into the room by degrees and shuts the door on them. Then sits down on the sofa, takes up a piece of needlework and sews a few stitches, but soon stops. No. Throws down the work, gets up, goes to the hall door and calls out. Helen, bring the tree in. Goes to the table on the left, opens a drawer, and stops again. No. No. It is quite impossible. Coming in with the tree. Where shall I put it, ma'am? There in the middle of the floor. Shall I get you anything else? No, thank you. I have all I want. Exit made. Begins dressing the tree. A candle here and flowers here. The horrible man. It's all nonsense. There's nothing wrong. The tree shall be splendid. I will do everything I can think of to please you, Torvald. I will sing for you, dance for you. Torvald comes in with some papers under his arm. Oh! Are you back already? Has anyone been here? Here? No. That is strange. I saw Croxtad going out of the gate. Did you? Oh, yes, I forgot. Croxtad was here for a moment. Nora, I can see from your manner that he's been begging you to say a good word for him. Yes. And you were to appear to do it of your own accord. You were to conceal from me the fact of him having been here. Didn't he beg that of you, too? Yes, Torvald, but— Nora, Nora, and you would be party to that sort of thing? To have any talk with a man like that and to give him any sort of promise? And to tell me a lie into the bargain? A lie? Didn't you tell me no one had been here? Shakes his finger at her. My little songbird must never do that again. A songbird must have a clean beak to chirp with, no false notes. Puts his arm round her waist. But he's so, isn't it? Yes, I'm sure it is. Let's her go. We will say no more about it. Sits down by the stove. How warm and snug it is here. Turns over his papers. After a short pause, during which she busies herself with the Christmas tree. Torvald? Yes? I am looking forward tremendously to the fancy dress ball at the Stenborgs the day after tomorrow. But I am tremendously curious to see what you are going to surprise me with. It was very silly of me to want to do that. What do you mean? I can't hit upon anything that will do. Everything I think of seems so silly and insignificant. Does my little Nora acknowledge that at least? Standing behind his chair with her arms on the back of it. Are you very busy, Torvald? Well? What are all those papers? Bank business. Already? I have got authority from the retiring manager to undertake necessary changes in the staff and in the rearrangement of the work, and I must make use of Christmas week for that. So as to have everything in order for the new year. Then that was why this poor Krogs dad. Leans against the back of his chair and strokes his hair. If you hadn't been so busy I should have asked you a tremendously big favour, Torvald. What is it? Tell me. There is no one as such good taste as you, and I do so want to look nice at the fancy dress-ball. Torvald, couldn't you take me in hand and decide what I shall go as, and what sort of dress I shall wear? Ha-ha! So my obstinate little woman is obliged to get someone to come to her rescue. Yes, Torvald, I can't get along a bit without your help. Very well, I will think it over. We shall manage to hit upon something. That is nice of you. Goes to the Christmas tree. A short pause. How pretty the red flowers look! But tell me, was it really something very bad that this Krogs dad was guilty of? He forged someone's name. Have you any idea what that means? Isn't it possible that he was driven to do it by necessity? Yes, or as in so many cases by imprudence. I am not so heartless as to condemn a man altogether because of a single false step of that kind. No, you wouldn't. Would you, Torvald? Maybe a man has been able to retrieve his character if he has openly confessed his fault and taken his punishment. Punishment? But Krogs dad did nothing of that sort. He got himself out of it by a cunning trick, and that is why he has gone under altogether. But do you think it would? Just think how a guilty man like that has to lie and play the hypocrite with everyone, how he has to wear a mask in the presence of those near and dear to him, even before his own wife and children, and about the children that is the most terrible part of it all, Nora. How? Because such an atmosphere of lies, infects and poisons the whole life of a home. Each breath the children take in such a house will be full of the germs of evil. Coming nearer him. Are you sure of that? My dear, I have often seen it in the course of my life as a lawyer. Almost everyone who has gone to bad early in life has a deceitful mother. Why do you say only mother? It seems most commonly to be the mother's influence, though naturally a bad father would have the same result. Every lawyer is familiar with the fact. This Krogs dad now has been persistently poisoning his own children with lies and dissimulation. That is why I say he has lost all moral character. Please out his hands to her. That is why, my little sweet Nora, you must promise not to plead his cause. Give me your hand on it. Come, come. What is this? Give me your hand. There now. That's settled. I assure you it would be impossible for me to work with him. I literally feel physically ill when I am in the company of such people. Takes her hand out of his and goes to the opposite side of the Christmas tree. How hot it is in here. And I have such a lot to do. Getting up and putting his papers in order. Yes, I must try and read through some of these before dinner, and I must think about your costume too. And it is just possible. I may have something ready in gold paper to hang up on the tree. Puts his hand on her head. My precious little singing bird. He goes into his room and shuts the door after him. After a pause whispers. No. It isn't true. It's impossible. It must be impossible. The nurse opens the door on the left. The little ones are begging so hard to be allowed to come into mama. No, no, no. Don't let them come into me. You stay with the man. Very well, ma'am. Shuts the door. Pale with terror. To pray for my little children, poison my home. A short pause. Then she tosses her head. It's not true. It can't possibly be true. End of Act One. A Doll's House. A play by Henrik Ibsen. Act Two. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act Two. The Same Scene. The Christmas tree is in the corner by the piano, stripped of its ornaments and with burned down candle ends on its disheveled branches. Nora's cloak and hat are lying on the sofa. She is alone in the room, walking about uneasily. She stops by the sofa and takes up her cloak. Drops her cloak. Someone is coming now. Goes to the door and listens. No. It is no one. Of course. It will come to-day, Christmas day, nor to-morrow either. But perhaps. Opens the door and looks out. No. Nothing in the letter-box. It is quite empty. Comes forward. What rubbish! Of course he can't be an earnest about it. Such a thing couldn't happen. It is impossible. I have three little children. Enter the nurse from the room on the left, carrying a big cardboard box. At last I found the box with a fancy dress. Thanks. Put it on the table. Doing so. But it is very much in want of mending. I should like to tear it into a hundred thousand pieces. What an idea! It can easily be put in order, just a little patience. Yes. I will go out and get Mrs. Lynn to come and help me with it. What? Out again? In this horrible weather? You will catch cold, ma'am, and make yourself ill. Well, worse than that might happen. How are the children? The poor little souls are playing with their Christmas presents, but— Do they ask much for me? You see, they are so accustomed to have their mama with them. Yes, but nurse, I shall not be able to be so much with them now as I was before. Oh, well, young children easily get accustomed to anything. Do you think so? Do you think they would forget their mother if she went away altogether? Good heavens! Went away altogether? Nurse, I want you to tell me something I have often wondered about. How could you have the heart to put your own child out among strangers? I was obliged to, if I wanted to be little nor as nurse. Yes, but how could you be willing to do it? What, when I was going to get such a good place by it? A poor girl who has gotten into trouble should be glad to. Besides, that wicked man didn't do a single thing for me. But I suppose your daughter has quite forgotten you. No, indeed she hasn't. She wrote to me when she was confirmed and when she was married. Putting her arms round her neck. Dear old Anne, you were a good mother to me when I was little. Little Nora, poor dear, had no other mother but me. And if my little ones had no other mother, I am sure you would—what nonsense I am talking—opens the box. Go into them. Now I must. He will see to-morrow how charming I shall look. I am sure there will be no one at the ball so charming as you, ma'am. Goes into the room on the left. Begins to unpack the box, but soon pushes it away from her. If only I dared go out, if only no one would come, if only I could be sure nothing would happen here in the meantime. Stop it, nonsense! No one will come. Only I mustn't think about it. I will brush my muff with lovely, lovely gloves, out of my thoughts, out of my thoughts. One, two, three, four, five, six. Screams. Ah! There's someone coming. Makes a movement towards the door, but stands a resolute. Enter Mrs. Lind from the hall, where she has taken off her cloak and hat. Oh! It's you, Christine. There's no one else out there, is there? How good of you to come! I heard you were up asking for me. Yes, I was passing by. As a matter of fact, it is something you could help me with. Let us sit down here on the sofa. Look here. Tomorrow evening there is to be a fancy dress ball at the Stenborgs, who live above us, and Torvald wants me to go as a Neapolitan fissure girl and dance the tarantella that I learned at Capri. I see. You are going to keep up the character. Yes, Torvald wants me to. Look, here is the dress. Torvald had it made for me there, but now it is all so torn, and I haven't any idea. We will easily put that right. It is only some of the trimming come unsewn here and there. Needle and thread? Now then, that's all we want. It is nice of you. Sewing. So you are going to be dressed up tomorrow, Nora. I will tell you what. I shall come in for a moment and see you in your fine feathers. But I have completely forgotten to thank you for a delightful evening yesterday. Gets up and crosses the stage. Well, I don't think yesterday was as pleasant as usual. You ought to have come to town a little earlier, Christine. Certainly Torvald does understand how to make a house dainty and attractive. And so do you, it seems to me. You are not your father's daughter for nothing. But tell me, is Dr. Rankle always so depressed as he was yesterday? No. Yesterday it was very noticeable. I must tell you that he suffers from a very dangerous disease. He has consumption of the spine, poor creature. His father was a horrible man who committed all sorts of excesses, and that is why his son was sickly from childhood. Do you understand? Dropping her sewing. But my dearess Nora, how do you know anything about such things? Walking about. Poo! When you have three children you get visits now and then from married women who know something of medical matters and they talk about one thing and another. Goes on sewing. A short silence. Does Dr. Rankle come here every day? Every day regularly. He is Torvald's most intimate friend. And a great friend of mine, too. He's just like one of the family. But tell me this, is he perfectly sincere? I mean, isn't he the kind of man that is very anxious to make himself agreeable? Not in the least. What makes you think that? When you introduced me to him yesterday, he declared he had often heard my name mentioned in this house. But afterwards I noticed that your husband hadn't the slightest idea who I was. So how could this Dr. Rankle? That is quite right, Christine. Torvald is so absurdly fond of me that he wants me absolutely to himself, as he says. At first he used to seem almost jealous if I mentioned any of the dear folk at home, so naturally I gave up doing so. But I often talk about such things with Dr. Rankle, because he likes hearing about them. Listen to me, Nora. You are still very like a child in many ways, and I am older than you in many ways, and have a little more experience. Let me tell you this. You ought to make an end of it with Dr. Rankle. What ought I to make an end of? Of two things, I think. Yesterday you talked some nonsense about a rich admirer who was to leave you money. That admirer who doesn't exist, unfortunately. But what then? Is Dr. Rankle a man of means? Yes, he is. And has no one to provide for? No, no one, but— And comes here every day? Yes, I told you so. But how can this well-bred man be so tactless? I don't understand you at all. Don't pervericate, Nora. Do you suppose I don't guess who lent you the two hundred and fifty pounds? Are you out of your senses? How can you think of such a thing? A friend of ours who comes here every day? Do you realize what a horribly painful position that would be? Then it really isn't he. No, certainly not. It would never have entered into my head for a moment. Besides, he had no money to lend then. He came into his money afterwards. Well, I think that was lucky for you, my dear Nora. No, it would never have come into my head to ask Dr. Rank, although I am quite sure that if I had asked him— But of course you won't. I have no reason to think it could possibly be necessary, but I am quite sure that if I told Dr. Rank— Behind your husband's back— I must make an end of it with the other one, and that will be behind his back too. I must make an end of it with him. Yes, that is what I told you yesterday, but— Walking up and down— A man can put a thing like that straight much easier than a woman. One's husband, yes. Nonsense. Standing still. When you pay off a debt, you get your bond back, don't you? Yes, as a matter, of course. And can tear it into a hundred thousand pieces and burn it up—the nasty, dirty paper. Looks hard at her, lays down her sewing, and gets up slowly. Nora, you are concealing something from me. Do I look as if I were? Something has happened to you since yesterday morning. Nora, what is it? Going nearer to her— Christine— —listens. Hush. There's Torvald come home. Do you mind going into the children for the present? Torvald can't bear to see dressmaking going on. Let Anne help you. Gathering some of the things together— Certainly. But I'm not going away from here till we have had it out with one another. She goes into the room on the left as Helmer comes in from the hall. Going up to Helmer. I have wanted you so much, Torvald, dear. Was that the dressmaker? No, it was Christine. She's helping me to put my dress in order. You will see I shall look quite smart. Wasn't that a happy thought of mine, now? Splendid. But don't you think it is nice of me, too, to do as you wish? Nice? Because you do as your husband wishes? Well, well, you little rogue. I'm sure you did not mean it in that way. But I'm not going to disturb you. You will want to be trying on your dress, I expect. I suppose you are going to work? Yes. Shows her a bundle of papers. Look at that. I have just been to the bank. Turns to go into his room. Torvald? Yes? If your little squirrel were to ask you for something very, very prettily— What, then? Would you do it? I should like to hear what it is first. Your squirrel would run about and do all her tricks if you would be nice and do what she wants? Speak plainly. Your skylark would chirp about in every room with her song rising and falling. Well, my little skylark does that anyhow. I would play the fairy and dance for you in the moonlight, Torvald. Nora, you surely don't mean that request you made to me this morning. Going near him. Yes, Torvald, I beg you so earnestly. Have you really the courage to open up that question again? Yes, dear, you must do as I ask. You must let Krogstad keep his post in the bank. My dear Nora, it is his post that I have arranged Mrs. Lynn shall have. Yes, you have been awfully kind about that, but you could just as well dismiss some other clerk instead of Krogstad. This is simply incredible obstancy. Because you chose to give him a thoughtless promise that you would speak for him, I am expected to. That isn't the reason, Torvald. It is for your own sake. This fellow writes in the most scurrilous newspapers you have told me so yourself. He can do you an unspeakable amount of harm. I am frightened to death of him. Ah, I understand. It is recollections of the past that scare you. What do you mean? Naturally, you are thinking of your father. Yes. Yes, of course. Just recall to your mind what those malicious creatures wrote in the papers about Papa and how horribly they slandered him. I believe they would have procured his dismissal if the department had not sent you over to inquire into it, and if you had not been so kindly disposed and helpful to him. My little Nora, there is an important difference between your father and me. Your father's reputation as a public official was not above suspicion. Mine is, and I hope it will continue to be so for as long as I hold my office. You never can tell what mischief these men may contrive. We ought to be so well off, so snug and happy here in our peaceful home, and have no cares. You and I and the children, Torvald. That is why I beg you so earnestly. And it is just by interceding for him that you make it impossible for me to keep him. It is already known at the bank that I mean to dismiss Krogstad. Is it to get about now that the new manager has changed his mind on his wife's bidding? And what if it did? Of course. If only this obstinate little person can get her way. Do you suppose I am going to make myself ridiculous before my whole staff to let people think that I am a man to be swayed by all sorts of outside influence? I should very soon feel the consequences of it, I can tell you. Besides, there is one thing that makes it quite impossible for me to have Krogstad in the bank as long as I am manager. Whatever is that? His moral failings I might perhaps have overlooked, if necessary. Yes, you could, couldn't you? And I hear he is a good worker too. But I knew him when we were boys. It was one of those rash friendships that so often prove incubus in afterlife. I may as well tell you plainly, we were once on very intimate terms with one another. But this tackless fellow lays no restraint on himself when other people are present. On the contrary, he thinks it gives him the right to adopt a familiar tone with me. Every minute it is, I say Helma, old fellow, and that sort of thing. I assure you it is extremely painful for me. He would make my position in the bank intolerable. Torvald, I don't believe you mean that. Don't you? Because it is such a narrow-minded way of looking at things. What are you saying? Narrow-minded? Do you think I am narrow-minded? No, just the opposite, dear, and it is exactly for that reason. It's the same thing. You say my point of view is narrow-minded, so I must be so too. Narrow-minded. Very well, I must put an end to this. Goes to the hall door and calls. Helen? What are you going to do? Getting among his papers. Settle it. Enter made. Look here. Take this letter and go downstairs with it at once. Find a messenger and tell him to deliver it, and be quick. The dress is on it, and here is the money. Very well, sir. Exit with the letter. Putting his papers together. Now then, little Miss Obstinate. Breathlessly. Torvald, what was that letter? Krogstadt's dismissal. Oh, call her back, Torvald. There's still time. Oh, Torvald, call her back. Do it for my sake, for your own sake, for the children's sake. Do you hear me, Torvald? Call her back. You don't know what that letter can bring upon us. It's too late. Yes, it's too late. My dear Nora, I can forgive the anxiety you are in. Although really it is an insult to me. It is indeed. Isn't it an insult to think that I should be afraid of a starving quill driver's vengeance? But I forgive you nevertheless, because it is such eloquent witness to your great love for me. Takes her in his arms. And that is as it should be, my own darling Nora. Come, I will. You may be sure I shall have both courage and strength if they be needed. You will see I am man enough to take everything upon myself. In a horror-stricken voice. What do you mean by that? Everything I say. Everything herself. You will never have to do that. That's right. Well, we shall share it, Nora, as man and wife should. That is how it shall be. Caressing her. Are you content now? There, there. Not these frightened Dove's eyes. The whole thing is only the wildest fancy. Now you must go and play through the tarantella and practice with your tambourine. I shall go into the inner office and shut the door and I shall hear nothing. You can make as much noise as you please. Turns back at the door. And when rank comes, tell him where he can find me. Nods to her, takes his papers and goes into his room and shuts the door after him. Bewildered with anxiety, stands as if rooted to the spot and whispers. He was capable of doing it. He will do it. He will do it in spite of everything. No. Not that. Never. Never. Anything rather than that, or for some help, some way out of it. The doorbell rings. Dr. Rank, anything rather than that, anything, whatever it is. She puts her hands over her face, pulls herself together, goes to the door and opens it. Ronke is standing without hanging up his coat. During the following dialogue it begins to grow dark. Good day, Dr. Rank. But you mustn't go into Torvald now. I think he is busy with something. And you? Brings him in and shuts the door after him. Oh, you know very well. I always have time for you. Thank you. I shall make use of as much of it as I can. What do you mean by that? As much of it as you can? Well, does that alarm you? It was such a strange way of putting it. Is anything likely to happen? Nothing but what I have long been prepared for. But I certainly didn't expect it to happen so soon. Gripping him by the arm. What have you found out? Dr. Rank, you must tell me. Sitting down by the stove. It is all up with me, and it can't be helped. With a sigh of relief. Is it about yourself? Who else? It is no use lying to oneself. I am the most wretched of all my patients, Mrs. Helmer. Lately, I have been taking stock of my internal economy. The hand-crupt. Probably within a month I shall lie rotting in the church yard. What an ugly thing to say. The thing itself is cursedly ugly, and the worst of it is that I shall have to face so much more that is ugly before that. I shall only make one more examination of myself. When I have done that, I shall know pretty certainly when it will be that the horrors of dissolution will begin. There is something I want to tell you. Helmer's refined nature gives him an unconquerable, disgusted everything that is ugly. I won't have him in my sick room. Oh, but Dr. Rank. I won't have him there, not on any account. I'd bar my door to him. As soon as I am quite certain that the worst has come, I shall send you my card with a black cross on it, and then you will know that the loathsome end has begun. You are quite absurd today, and I wanted you so much to be in a really good humour. With death stalking beside me to have to pay this penalty for another man's sin? Is there any justice in that? And in every single family in one way or another, some such inexorable retribution is being exacted. Putting her hands over her ears. Rubbish! Do talk of something cheerful. Oh, it's a mere laughing matter, the whole thing. My poor innocent spine has to suffer from my father's youthful amusements. Sitting at the table on the left. I suppose you mean that he was too partial to asparagus and pâté de foie gras, don't you? Yes, and to truffles. Truffles, yes, and oysters, too, I suppose. Oysters, of course, that goes without saying. And heaps of port and champagne. It is sad that all these nice things should take their revenge on our bones. Especially that they should revenge themselves on the unlucky bones of those who have not had the satisfaction of enjoying them. Yes, that's the saddest part of all. With a searching look at her. Hmm. After a short pause, why did you smile? No, it was you that laughed. No, it was you that smiled, Dr. Rank. Rising. You were a greater rascal than I thought. I am in a silly mood today. So it seems. Putting her hands on his shoulders. Dear, dear Dr. Rank, death mustn't take you away from Torvald and me. It is a loss you would easily recover from. Those who are gone are soon forgotten. Looking at him anxiously. Do you believe that? People form new ties, and then... Who will form new ties? Both you and Helmer, when I am gone, you yourself are already on the high road to it, I think. What did that Mrs. Lind won't hear last night? Oh, you don't mean to say you are jealous of poor Christine. Yes, I am. She will be my successor in this house. When I am done for, this woman will... She don't speak so loud. She is in that room. Today again, there you see. She has only come to sew my dress for me. Bless my soul how unreasonable you are. Sits down on the sofa. Be nice now, Dr. Rank, and tomorrow you will see how beautifully I shall dance. And you can imagine I am doing it all for you. And for Torvald too, of course. Takes various things out of the box. Dr. Rank, come and sit down here, and I will show you something. Sitting down. What is it? Just look at those. Silk stockings. Flesh-colored. Aren't they lovely? It is so dark here now, but tomorrow. No, no, no, you must only look at the feet. Oh well, you may have leave to look at the legs too. Hmm. Why are you looking so critical? Don't you think they will fit me? I have no means of forming an opinion about that. Looks at him for a moment. For shame. Hits him lightly on the ear with the stockings. That's to punish you. Folds them up again. And what other nice things am I to be allowed to see? Not a single thing more for being so naughty. She looks among the things humming to herself. After a short silence. When I am sitting here, talking to you as intimately as this, I cannot imagine for a moment what would have become of me if I had never come into this house. Smiling. I believe you do feel thoroughly at home with us. In a lower voice, looking straight in front of him. And to be obliged to leave it all. Nonsense, you are not going to leave it. As before. And not to be able to leave behind one, the slightest token of one's gratitude. Just leave in a fleeting regret. Nothing but an empty place which the first comer can fill as well as any other. And if I asked you now for a... No. For what? For a big proof of your friendship. Yes, yes. I mean a tremendously big favour. Would you really make me so happy for once? But you don't know what it is yet. No, but tell me. I really can't, Dr. Rank. It is something out of all reason. It means advice and help in a favour. The bigger a thing it is, the better. I cannot conceive what it is you mean. Do tell me. Haven't I your confidence? More than anyone else. I know you are my truest and best friend. And so I will tell you what it is. Well, Dr. Rank, it is something you must help me to prevent. You know how devotedly, how inexpressibly deeply Torvald loves me. He would never for a moment hesitate to give his life for me. Leaning towards her. Nora, do you think he is the only one? With a slight start. The only one? The only one who would gladly give his life for your sake. Sadly, is that it? I was determined you should know it before I went away. And there will never be a better opportunity than this. Now you know it, Nora. And now you know too that you can trust me as you would trust no one else. Rises deliberately and quickly. Let me pass. Makes room for her to pass him, but sits still. Nora! At the hall door. Helen, bring in the lamp. Goes over to the stove. Dr. Rank. Dear Dr. Rank, that was really horrid of you. You have loved you as much as anyone else does. Was that horrid? No. But to go and tell me so, there was really no need. What do you mean? Did you know? Made enters with lamp, puts it down on the table, and goes out. Nora, Mrs. Helmer, tell me, had you any idea of this? Oh, how do I know whether I had or whether I hadn't? I really can't tell you. To think you could be so clumsy, Dr. Rank. You were getting on so nicely. Well, at all events you know now that you can command me body and soul, so won't you speak out? Looking at him. After what happened? I beg you to let me know what it is. I can't tell you anything now. Yes, yes, you mustn't punish me in that way. Let me have permission to do for you whatever a man may do. You can do nothing for me now. Besides, I really don't need any help at all. You will find that the whole thing is merely fancy on my part. It really is so. Of course it is. Sits down in the rocking chair and looks at him with a smile. You are a nice sort of man, Dr. Rank. Don't you feel ashamed of yourself now the lamp has come? Not a bit, but perhaps I had better go, for ever. No, indeed you shall not. Of course you must come here just as before. You know very well Torvald can't do without you. Yes, but you? Oh, I am always tremendously pleased when you come. It is just that that put me on the wrong track. You are riddle to me. I have often thought that you would almost as soon be in my company as in Helmers. Yes, you see, there are some people one loves best and others whom one would almost always rather have as companions. Yes, there is something in that. When I was at home, of course, I loved Papa best. But I always thought it tremendous fun if I could steal down into the maid's rooms because they never moralized at all and talked to each other about such entertaining things. I see. It is their place I have taken. Jumping up and going to him. Oh, dear, nice, Dr. Rank, I never meant that at all. But surely you can understand that being with Torvald is a little like being with Papa. Enter maid from the hall. If you please, ma'am. Whispers and hands her a card. Glancing at the card. Oh. Puts it in her pocket. Is there anything wrong? No, no, not in the least. It is only something. It is my new dress. Oh, dear. Dress is lying there. Oh, yes, that one. But this is another. I ordered it. Torvald mustn't know about it. Oh, then that was the great secret. Of course. Just go into him. He is sitting in the inner room. Keep him as long as... Make your mind easy. I won't let him escape. Goes into Helmer's room. To the maid. And he is standing waiting in the kitchen. Yes, he came up the back stairs. But didn't you tell him no one was in? Yes, but it was no good. He won't go away. No. He says he won't until he's seen you, ma'am. Well, let him come in. But quietly. Helen, you mustn't say anything about it to anyone. It is a surprise from my husband. Yes, ma'am. I quite understand. Exit. This dreadful thing is going to happen. It will happen in spite of me. No. No. No. It can't happen. It shan't happen. She bolts the door of Helmer's room. The maid opens the hall door for Krogstad and shuts it after him. He is wearing a fur coat, high boots, and a fur cap. Advancing toward him. Speak low. My husband is at home. No matter about that. What do you want of me? An explanation of something. Make haste, then. What is it? You know, I suppose, that I have got my dismissal. I couldn't prevent it, Mr. Krogstad. I fought as hard as I could on your side, but it was no good. Does your husband love you so little, then? He knows what I can expose you to, and yet he ventures. How can you suppose that he has any knowledge of the sort? I didn't suppose so at all. It would not be the least like our dear Torvald Helmer to sow so much courage. Mr. Krogstad, a little respect for my husband, please. Certainly. All the respect he deserves. But since you have kept the matter so carefully to yourself, I make bold to suppose that you have a little clearer idea than you had yesterday of what it actually is that you have done. More than you could ever teach me. Yes. Such a bad lawyer as I am. What is it you want of me? I'd like to see how you were, Miss Helmer. I've been thinking about you all day long. A mere cashier, a quill driver, a, well, a man like me, even he has a little of what is called feeling, you know. Show it, then. Think of my little children. Have you and your husband not thought of mine? Never mind about that. I only want to tell you that you need not take this matter too seriously. In the first place, there will be no accusation made on my part. No. Of course not. I was sure of that. The whole thing can be arranged amicably. There is no reason why anyone should know anything about it. It will remain a secret between us three. My husband must never get to know anything about it. How will you be able to prevent it? Am I to understand that you can pay the balance that is owing? No, not just at present. Or perhaps that you have made some expedient for raising the money so soon. No expedient that I mean to make use of. Well, in any case, it would have been no use to you now. If you stood there with ever so much money as in your hand, I would never part with your bond. Tell me what purpose you mean to put it to. I shall only preserve it, keep it in my possession. No one who is not concerned in the matter shall have the slightest hint of it, so that if the thought of it has driven you to any desperate resolution. It has. If you had it in your mind to run away from your home. I had. Or even something worse. How could you know that? Give up the idea. How did you know I had thought of that? Most of us think of that first. I did too, but I hadn't the courage. Faintly. No more had I. In a tone of relief. No, that's it. Isn't it? You hadn't the courage either. No, I haven't. I haven't. Besides, it would have been a great piece of folly. Once the storm at home is over, I have a letter for your husband in my pocket. Telling him everything. In as lenient a manner as I possibly could. Quickly. He mustn't get the letter. Tear it up. I will find some means of getting money. Excuse me, Miss Helmer, but I thought I told you just now. I am not speaking of what I owe you. Tell me what some you are asking my husband for and I will get the money. I am not asking your husband for a penny. What do you want then? I will tell you. I want to rehabilitate myself, Miss Helmer. I want to get on. And in that, your husband must help me. For the last year and a half, I have not had a hand in anything dishonorable. Amid all that time, I had been struggling in the most restricted circumstances. I was content to work my way up step by step. Now I am turned out and I am not going to be satisfied with merely being taken into favor again. I want to get on, I tell you. I want to get into the bank again into a higher position. Your husband must make a place for me. That he will never do. He will. I know him. He dare not protest. And as soon as I am in there again with him, then you will see. Within a year I shall be the manager's right hand. You will be Nils Krogstad and not Torvald Helmer, who manages the bank. That's a thing you will never see. Do you mean that you will? I have courage enough for it now. Oh, you can't frighten me. Fine spoiled lady like you. You will see. You will see. Under the ice, perhaps, down into the cold, cold black water, and then in the spring float up to the surface all horrible and unrecognizable with your hair fallen out. You can't frighten me. Nor you me. People don't do such things, Miss Helmer. Besides, what use would it be? I would have him completely in my power all the same. Afterwards, when I am no longer. Have you forgotten that it is I who have the keeping of your reputation? Nor stand speechlessly looking at him. Well now, I have warned you. Do not do anything foolish. When Helmer has had my letter, I shall expect a message from him. And be sure you remember that it is your husband himself who has forced me into such ways as this again. I will never forgive him for that. Goodbye, Miss Helmer. Exit through the hall. Goes to the hall door, opens it slightly and listens. He's going. He's not putting the letter in the box. Oh no, no, that's impossible. Opens the door by degrees. What is that? He's standing outside. He's not going downstairs. Is he hesitating? Can he? A letter drops into the box, then Krogstad's footsteps are heard until they die away as he goes downstairs. Nora utters a stifled cry and runs across the room to the table by the sofa. A short pause. In the letter box. Steals across to the hall door. There it lies. Torvald, Torvald, there is no hope for us now. Mrs. Lind comes in from the room on the left carrying the dress. There, I can't see anything more to mend now. Would you like to try it on? In a horse whisper. Christine, come here. Throwing the dress down on the sofa. What is the matter with you? You look so agitated. Do you see that letter? There, look, you can see it through the glass in the letter box. Yes, I see it. That letter is from Krogstad. Nora, it was Krogstad who lent you the money. Yes, and now Torvald will know all about it. Believe me, Nora, that's the best thing for both of you. You don't know all. I forged a name. Good heavens! I only want to say this to you, Christine. You must be my witness. Your witness? What do you mean? What am I to— If I should go out of my mind, and it might easily happen. Nora. Or if anything else should happen to me, anything, for instance, that might prevent my being here. Nora, Nora, you are quite out of your mind. And if it should happen that there were someone who wanted to take all the responsibility, all the blame you understand. Yes, yes. But how can you suppose— I must be my witness, that it is not true, Christine. I am not out of my mind at all. I am in my right senses now, and I tell you no one else has known anything about it. I and I alone did the whole thing. Remember that. I will, indeed. But I don't understand all this. How should you understand it? A wonderful thing is going to happen. Yes, a wonderful thing. But it is so terrible, Christine. It mustn't happen, not for all the world. I will go at once and see Krogstad. Don't go to him. He will do you some harm. There was a time when he would gladly do anything for my sake. He? Where does he live? How should I know? Yes. Feeling in her pocket. Here's his card. But the letter, the letter— Calls from his room knocking at the door. Nora? You're out anxiously. Oh, what's that? What do you want? Don't be so frightened. We're not coming in. You have locked the door. Are you trying on your dress? Yes, that's it. I look so nice, Torvald. Mrs. Lind was read the card. I see he lives at the corner here. Yes, but it's no use. It is hopeless. The letter is lying there in the box. And your husband keeps the key? Yes, always. Krogstad must ask for his letter back unread. He must find some pretense. But it is just at this time that Torvald generally— You must delay him. Go into him in the meantime. I will come back as soon as I can. She goes out hurriedly through the hall door. Goes to Helmer's door, opens it, and peeps in. Torvald? From the inner room. Well, may I venture at last to come into my own room again? Go along, Rank. Now you will see. Halting in the doorway. But what is this? What is what, dear? Rank, let me to expect a splendid transformation. From the doorway. I understood so, but evidently I was mistaken. Yes, nobody is to have the chance of admiring me in my dress until tomorrow. But my dear Nora, you look so worn out. Have you been practising too much? No, I have not practised at all. But you will need to. Yes, indeed I shall, Torvald, but I can't get on a bit without you to help me. I have absolutely forgotten the whole thing. Oh, we will soon work it up again. Yes, help me, Torvald. Promise that you will. I am so nervous about it, all the people. You must give yourself up to me entirely this evening, not the tiniest bit of business. You mustn't even take a pen in your hand. Will you promise, Torvald, dear? I promise. This evening I will be wholly and absolutely at your service. You helpless little mortal. Oh, by the way, first of all, I will just- Goes toward the hall door. What are you going to do there? Will you see if any letters have come? No, no, don't do that, Torvald. Why not? Torvald, please don't. There is nothing there. Well, let me look. Turns to go to the letterbox. Nora, at the piano, plays the first bars of the tarantella. Helmer stops in the doorway. Ha-ha! I can't dance tomorrow if I don't practise with you. Going up to her. Are you really so afraid of it, dear? Yes, so dreadfully afraid of it. Let me practise it once. There is time now before we go to dinner. Sit down and play for me, Torvald, dear. Criticise me and correct me as you play. With great pleasure, if you wish me to. Sits down at the piano. Takes out of the box a tambourine and a long variegated shawl. She hastily drops the shawl round her. Then she springs to the front of the stage and calls out. Now play for me. I'm going to dance. Helmer plays and Nora dances. Ronke stands by the piano behind Helmer and looks on. As he plays. Slower, slower. I can't do it any other way. Not so violently, Nora. This is the way. Stops playing. No, no, that is not a bit right. Laughing and swinging the tambourine. Didn't I tell you so? Let me play for her. Getting up. Yes, do. I can correct her better then. Ronke sits down at the piano and plays. Nora dances more and more wildly. Helmer has taken up a position beside the stove. And during her dance gives her frequent instructions. She does not seem to hear him. Her hair comes down and falls over her shoulders. She pays no attention to it but goes on dancing. Enter Mrs. Lind. Standing as if spellbound in the doorway. As she dances. Such fun, Christine. My dear darling Nora, you are dancing as if your life depended on it. So it does. Stop, Ronke. This is sheer madness. I tell you. Ronke stops playing and Nora suddenly stands still. Helmer goes up to her. I could never have believed it. You've forgotten everything I taught you. Throwing away the tambourine. There, you see. You will want a lot of coaching. Yes, you see how much I need it. You must coach me up to the last minute. Promise me that, Torvald. You can depend on me. You must not think of anything but me, either today or tomorrow. You mustn't open a single letter, not even open the letter box. Are you still afraid of that fellow? Yes, indeed I am. Nora, I can tell from your looks that there is a letter from him lying there. I don't know. I think there is. But you must not read anything of that kind now. Nothing horrid must come between us until this is all over. Whispers to Helmer. You mustn't contradict her. Taking her in his arms. The child shall have her way. And tomorrow night, after you have danced. Then you will be free. The maid appears in the doorway to the right. Dinner is served, ma'am. We will have champagne, Helen. Very good, ma'am. Exit. Hello. Are we going to have a banquet? Yes. A champagne banquet until the small hours. Calls out. And a few macaroons, Helen. Lots. Just for once. Come, come. Don't be so wild and nervous. Be my own little skylark as you used to be. Yes, dear, I will. But go in now. And you too, Dr. Rank. Christine, you must help me to do up my hair. Whispers to Helmer as they go out. I suppose there is nothing. She is not expecting anything. Far from it, my dear fellow. It is simply nothing more than this childish nervousness I was telling you of. They go into the right-handed room. Well. I could tell from your face. He is coming home tomorrow evening. I wrote a note for him. You should have let it alone. You must prevent nothing. After all, it is splendid to be waiting for a wonderful thing to happen. What is it that you were waiting for? Oh, you wouldn't understand. Go into them. I will come in a moment. Mrs. Lind goes into the dining-room. Nora stands still for a little while as if to compose herself. Then she looks at her watch. Five o'clock. Seven hours until midnight. And then four and twenty hours until the next midnight. Then the tarantella will be over. Twenty-four and seven. Thirty-one hours to live. From the doorway on the right. Where's my little Skylark? Going to him with her arms outstretched. Here she is.