Hadda Pada | Page 4

she wheedles them all.
HADDA PADDA. But still you told me, dear, that you would be fonder of me if I did not marry.
RANNVEIG. How can you say that, Hadda dear? I said that marriage doesn't always bring happiness. HADDA PADDA. I know. You told me that only to console me, because I am now twenty-six years old. Runa is nineteen, prettier than most girls, and a wild little imp, surrounded by young men all the time. And they play upon her vanity only to make her cruel. [Stands up.]
RANNVEIG. At her age you were prettier, and are, still, but you were not like that. No, she hasn't your character.
KRISTRUN [enters from behind]. The prince is coming! [Rannveig gathers her knitting, and drops the yarn. Kristrun jumps at it like a cat, and catches it.] Now I'll dance for you, Veiga dear. [She whirls around her, singing, yarn in hand, twisting the thread around the old woman. They listen for footsteps. Rannveig slips out, on the right, entangled in the yarn, Kristrun following.]
INGOLF [enters. Like Hadda, he is sunburnt].
HADDA PADDA. How do you do! You promised to be here earlier, dear. [Kisses him.]
INGOLF. What time is it? [About to take out his watch.]
HADDA PADDA [catching his hands]. I don't know. But I felt the moment slipping by, when you should have been here.
INGOLF [kisses her again].
HADDA PADDA. While I was sitting there, in the arm-chair, waiting for you, I closed my eyes, and do you know what I saw?
INGOLF. No.
HADDA PADDA [pointing to the crystal]. I saw the crystal ball through my eyelashes.
INGOLF [smiling]. Then you did not close your eyes--
HADDA PADDA. No, I cheated. [They laugh.] ... and then I began to throw the crystal ball to Runa, do you know why?
INGOLF. No--?
HADDA PADDA. So as to lure back an old recollection. ... Do you remember, it was your last winter at the Latin school. One day you came home, and we two were alone in the room here, you took the ball, threw it to me, and called: WISHING--! I caught it, and said:--STONE! And so we continued to play, till you called HADDA! I didn't quite follow your trick at first, but caught the word: PADDA! Then you laughed and said: From now on, you shall never be called anything but HADDA PADDA. Do you remember?
INGOLF. I do.
HADDA PADDA. Everybody calls me that now, except my nurse.
RANNVEIG [peeping in through the curtain]. Don't let me hear that name. Hf! Padda! That's an insect! [Disappears.]
HADDA PADDA [walks gently forth, and rolls the door back]. Then I asked you what christening gift I was to have. You gave me your first kiss.
INGOLF [sits down on the divan, takes Hadda on his knee]. Hadda Padda! You don't know how I love that name. You don't know how many times I have wrapped you in it, as in some fantastic mantle. After you had left Copenhagen last spring, and I sat reading all the live-long day, until at last I went to bed, my lips did not close on your name, till my eyes had closed on your picture.
HADDA PADDA. You must never call me anything but that. Each time you say it, it brings back the joy of your first kiss.
INGOLF. Were you really in love with me then?
HADDA PADDA. You don't know? ... Then I did succeed in hiding it?
INGOLF. Why did you hide it, Hadda? Why, I almost believed you bore me a grudge. You seemed to hold more aloof each day.
HADDA PADDA. And even that did not betray me?
INGOLF. Why did you hide it, Hadda?
(Footsteps are heard outside.)
HADDA PADDA [kisses Ingolf hastily, gets up, and seats herself at his side, takes his hand]. Don't you understand, dear, I was afraid of knowing the certainty. The stronger my love grew, the more carefully I had to hide it. I dared not risk those beautiful dream-children of uncertainty for a disguised certainty. Whenever we talked together, and you looked up at me, I was startled. I thought you understood, and your hurried glance reached me only after the fear of seeing the answer in it.
INGOLF. You, the most sincere of women, could cherish so strong a love and seem so cold.
HADDA PADDA. Now I have made too great a virtue of my love. Some of my reserve was pride. Just think, you lived with us during your entire schooltime, and in the summer sister and I were by turns at your home. We grew up, you, handsome and manly, and a lord of pleasures; and you always seemed to be careful not to pay me greater attention than the other girls, especially at parties. That was why I drew back.--I was eighteen, you were twenty; you were graduated and went abroad. And poor, proud little Hadda Padda was left alone.
INGOLF.