John Gabriel Borkman | Page 3

in the the play--the comparative weakness of the second half of
the third act. The scene of Erhart's rebellion against the claims of the
mother, aunt, and father strikes one as the symmetrical working out of a
problem rather than a passage of living drama.
All this means, of course, that there is a certain looseness of fibre in
John Gabriel Borkman which we do not find in the best of Ibsen's
earlier works. But in point of intellectual power and poetic beauty it
yields to none of its predecessors. The conception of the three leading
figures is one of the great things of literature; the second act, with the
exquisite humour of the Foldal scene, and the dramatic intensity of the

encounter between Borkman and Ella, is perhaps the finest single act
Ibsen ever wrote, in prose at all events; and the last scene is a thing of
rare and exalted beauty. One could wish that the poet's last words to us
had been those haunting lines with which Gunhild and Ella join hands
over Borkman's body:
We twin sisters--over him we both have loved. We two shadows--over
the dead man.
Among many verbal difficulties which this play presents, the greatest,
perhaps, has been to find an equivalent for the word "opreisning,"
which occurs again and again in the first and second acts. No one
English word that I could discover would fit in all the different contexts;
so I have had to employ three: "redemption," "restoration," and in one
place "rehabilitation." The reader may bear in mind that these three
terms represent one idea in the original.
Borkman in Act II. uses a very odd expression--"overskurkens moral,"
which I have rendered "the morals of the higher rascality." I cannot but
suspect (though for this I have no authority) that in the word
"overskurk," which might be represented in German by
"Ueberschurke," Borkman is parodying the expression "Uebermensch,"
of which so much has been heard of late. When I once suggested this to
Ibsen, he neither affirmed nor denied it. I understood him to say,
however, that in speaking of "overskurken" he had a particular man in
view. Somewhat pusillanimously, perhaps, I pursued my inquiries no
further.
*Copyright, 1907, by Charles Scribner's Sons.

JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN (1896)
PERSONS.
JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN, formerly Managing Director of a Bank.
MRS. GUNHILD BORKMAN, his wife. ERHART BORKMAN, their
son, a student. MISS ELLA RENTHEIM, Mrs. Borkman's twin sister.

MRS. FANNY WILTON. VILHELM FOLDAL, subordinate clerk in a
Government office. FRIDA FOLDAL, his daughter. MRS.
BORKMAN'S MAID.
The action passes one winter evening, at the Manorhouse of the
Rentheim family, in the neighbourhood of Christiania.

JOHN GABRIEL BORKMAN
PLAY IN FOUR ACTS

ACT FIRST
MRS. BORKMAN's drawing-room, furnished with old-fashioned,
faded splendour. At the back, an open sliding-door leads into a
garden-room, with windows and a glass door. Through it a view over
the garden; twilight with driving snow. On the right, a door leading
from the hall. Further forward, a large old-fashioned iron stove, with
the fire lighted. On the left, towards the back, a single smaller door. In
front, on the same side, a window, covered with thick curtains.
Between the window and the door a horsehair sofa, with a table in front
of it covered with a cloth. On the table, a lighted lamp with a shade.
Beside the stove a high-backed armchair.
MRS. GUNHILD BORKMAN sits on the sofa, crocheting. She is an
elderly lady, of cold, distinguished appearance, with stiff carriage and
immobile features. Her abundant hair is very grey. Delicate transparent
hands. Dressed in a gown of heavy dark silk, which has originally been
handsome, but is now somewhat worn and shabby. A woollen shawl
over her shoulders.
She sits for a time erect and immovable at her crochet. Then the bells of
a passing sledge are heard.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Listens; her eyes sparkle with gladness and she

involuntarily whispers]. Erhart! At last!
[She rises and draws the curtain a little aside to look out. Appears
disappointed, and sits down to her work again, on the sofa. Presently
THE MAID enters from the hall with a visiting card on a small tray.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Quickly.] Has Mr. Erhart come after all?
THE MAID. No, ma'am. But there's a lady----
MRS. BORKMAN. [Laying aside her crochet.] Oh, Mrs. Wilton, I
suppose----
THE MAID. [Approaching.] No, it's a strange lady----
MRS. BORKMAN. [Taking the card.] Let me see---- [Reads it; rises
hastily and looks intently at the girl.] Are you sure this is for me?
THE MAID. Yes, I understand it was for you, ma'am.
MRS. BORKMAN. Did she say she wanted to see Mrs. Borkman?
THE MAID. Yes, she did.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Shortly, resolutely.] Good. Then say I am at
home.
[THE MAID opens the door for the