Little Eyolf | Page 7

be a soldier.
ALLMERS. [With suppressed indignation.] Why do they say that, do you think?
EYOLF. I suppose they are jealous of me. For you know, Papa, they are so poor, they have to go about barefoot.
ALLMERS. [Softly, with choking voice.] Oh, Rita--how it wrings my heart!
RITA. [Soothingly, rising.] There, there, there!
ALLMERS. [Threateningly.] But these rascals shall soon find out who is the master down at the beach!
ASTA. [Listening.] There is some one knocking.
EYOLF. Oh, I'm sure it's Borgheim!
RITA. Come in.
[The RAT-WIFE comes softly and noiselessly in by the door on the right. She is a thin little shrunken figure, old and grey-haired, with keen, piercing eyes, dressed in an old-fashioned flowered gown, with a black hood and cloak. She has in her hand a large red umbrella, and carries a black bag by a loop over her arm.]
EYOLF. [Softly, taking hold of ASTA's dress.] Auntie! That must surely be her!
THE RAT-WIFE. [Curtseying at the door.] I humbly beg pardon--but are your worships troubled with any gnawing things in the house?
ALLMERS. Here? No, I don't think so.
THE RAT-WIFE. For it would be such a pleasure to me to rid your worships' house of them.
RITA. Yes, yes; we understand. But we have nothing of the sort here.
THE RAT-WIFE. That's very unlucky, that is; for I just happened to be on my rounds now, and goodness knows when I may be in these parts again.--Oh, how tired I am!
ALLMERS. [Pointing to a chair.] Yes, you look tired.
THE RAT-WIFE. I know one ought never to get tired of doing good to the poor little things that are hated and persecuted so cruelly. But it takes your strength out of you, it does.
RITA. Won't you sit down and rest a little?
THE RAT-WIFE. I thank your ladyship with all my heart. [Seats herself on a chair between the door and the sofa.] I have been out all night at my work.
ALLMERS. Have you indeed?
THE RAT-WIFE. Yes, over on the islands. [With a chuckling laugh.] The people sent for me, I can assure you. They didn't like it a bit; but there was nothing else to be done. They had to put a good face on it, and bite the sour apple. [Looks at EYOLF, and nods.] The sour apple, little master, the sour apple.
EYOLF. [Involuntarily, a little timidly.] Why did they have to--?
THE RAT-WIFE. What?
EYOLF. To bite it?
THE RAT-WIFE. Why, because they couldn't keep body and soul together on account of the rats and all the little rat-children, you see, young master.
RITA. Ugh! Poor people! Have they so many of them?
THE RAT-WIFE. Yes, it was all alive and swarming with them. [Laughs with quiet glee.] They came creepy-crawly up into the beds all night long. They plumped into the milk-cans, and they went pittering and pattering all over the floor, backwards and forwards, and up and down.
EYOLF. [Softly, to ASTA.] I shall never go there, Auntie.
THE RAT-WIFE. But then I came--I, and another along with me. And we took them with us, every one--the sweet little creatures! We made an end of every one of them.
EYOLF. [With a shriek.] Papa--look! look!
RITA. Good Heavens, Eyolf!
ALLMERS. What's the matter?
EYOLF. [Pointing.] There's something wriggling in the bag!
RITA. [At the extreme left, shrieks.] Ugh! Send her away, Alfred.
THE RAT-WIFE. [Laughing.] Oh, dearest lady, you needn't be frightened of such a little mannikin.
ALLMERS. But what is the thing?
THE RAT-WIFE. Why, it's only little Mops?man. [Loosening the string of the bag.] Come up out of the dark, my own little darling friend.
[A little dog with a broad black snout pokes its head out of the bag.]
THE RAT-WIFE. [Nodding and beckoning to EYOLF.] Come along, don't be afraid, my little wounded warrior! He won't bite. Come here! Come here!
EYOLF. [Clinging to ASTA.] No, I dare not.
THE RAT-WIFE. Don't you think he has a gentle, lovable countenance, my young master?
EYOLF. [Astonished, pointing.] That thing there?
THE RAT-WIFE. Yes, this thing here.
EYOLF. [Almost under his breath, staring fixedly at the dog.] I think he has the horriblest--countenance I ever saw.
THE RAT-WIFE. [Closing the bag.] Oh, it will come--it will come, right enough.
EYOLF. [Involuntarily drawing nearer, at last goes right up to her, and strokes the bag.] But he is lovely--lovely all the same.
THE RAT-WIFE. [In a tone of caution.] But now he is so tired and weary, poor thing. He's utterly tired out, he is. [Looks at ALLMERS.] For it takes the strength out of you, that sort of game, I can tell you, sir.
ALLMERS. What sort of game do you mean?
THE RAT-WIFE. The luring game.
ALLMERS. Do you mean that it is the dog that lures the rats?
THE RAT-WIFE. [Nodding.] Mops?man and I--we two do it together. And it goes so smoothly--for all you can see, at any rate. I just slip a string through his collar, and then I lead him three times round the house,