Punch, Or The London Charivari | Page 2

to behave as such?
Gregers. Exactly, I'm what Americans would term a "crank"--but I believe in you, HEDVIG.
[_HEDVIG takes down the pistol from the mantelpiece, and goes into the garret with flashing eyes; GINA comes in._
Hialmar (_looking in at door with hesitation; he is unwashed and dishevelled_). Has anybody happened to see my hat?
Gina. Gracious, what a sight you are! Sit down and have some breakfast, do. [_She brings it._
Hialmar (_indignantly_). What! touch food under this roof? Never! (_Helps himself to bread-and-butter and coffee._) Go and pack up my scientific uncut books, my manuscripts, and all the best rabbits, in my portmanteau. I am going away for ever. On second thoughts, I shall stay in the spare room for another day or two--it won't be the same as living with you!
[_He takes some salt meat._
Gregers. Must you go? Just when you've got nice firm ground to build upon--thanks to me! Then there's your great invention, too.
Hialmar. Everything's invented already. And I only cared about my invention because, although it doesn't exist yet, I thought HEDVIG believed in it, with all the strength of her sweet little shortsighted eyes! But now I don't believe in HEDVIG!
[Illustration]
[_He pours himself out another cup of coffee._
Gregers (_earnestly_). But, HIALMAR, if I can prove to you that she is ready to sacrifice her cherished Wild Duck? See!
[_He pushes back sliding-door, and discovers HEDVIG aiming at the Wild Duck with the butt-end of the pistol. Tableau._
Gina (_excitedly_). But don't you _see_? It's the pigstol--that fatal Norwegian weapon which, in Ibsenian dramas, never shoots straight! And she has got it by the wrong end too. She will shoot herself!
Gregers (_quietly_). She will! Let the child make amends. It will be a most realistic and impressive finale!
Gina. No, no--put down the pigstol, HEDVIG. Do you hear, child?
Hedvig (_still aiming_). I hear--but I shan't unless father tells me to.
Gregers. HIALMAR, show the great soul I always said you had. This sorrow will set free what is noble in you. Don't spoil a fine situation. Be a man! Let the child shoot herself!
Hialmar (_irresolutely_). Well, really I don't know. There's a good deal in what GREGERS says. Hm!
Gina. A good deal of tomfool rubbish! I'm illiterate, I know. I've been a Wild Duck in my time, and I waddle. But for all that, I'm the only person in the play with a grain of common-sense. And I'm sure--whatever Mr. IBSEN or GREGERS choose to say--that a screaming burlesque like this ought not to end like a tragedy--even in this queer Norway of ours! And it shan't, either! Tell the child to put that nasty pigstol down and come away, do!
Hialmar (_yielding_). Ah, well, I am a farcical character myself, after all. Don't touch a hair of that duck's head, HEDVIG. Come to my arms and all shall be forgiven!
[_HEDVIG throws down the pistol,--which goes off and kills a rabbit--and rushes into her father's arms. Old EKDAL comes out of a corner with a fowl on each shoulder, and bursts into tears. Affecting family picture._
Gregers (_annoyed_). It's all very pretty, I dare say--but it's not IBSEN! My real mission is to be the thirteenth at table. I don't know what I mean--but I fly to fulfil it! [_He goes._
Hialmar. And now we've got rid of _him_, HEDVIG, fetch me the deed of gift I tore up, and a slip of paper, and a penny bottle of gum, and we'll soon make a valid instrument of it again!
[_He pastes the torn deed together as the Curtain slowly descends._
THE END (with apologies as before.)
* * * * *
WHY SHOULD LONDON WAIT?
OR, THE SLIGHTED METROPOLIS AND THE DISAPPOINTED MEDICAL STUDENT.
[Sir RICHARD QUAIN (seconding the proposal of Lord HERSCHELL "that the draft Supplemental Charter for the University of London be approved") said that with respect to Medical Degrees, those who were not in the profession could not realise the grievance which the Medical Students of London felt themselves to be sustaining by not being able to obtain their Degrees in the Metropolis. Hundreds of capable men were driven to seek in Scotland, at Newcastle, and elsewhere the Medical Degrees which they ought to have obtained in London.]
[Illustration]
AIR--"_The University of Gottingen." London, loquitur_:--
I.
Whene'er with longing eyes you view Degrees, I feel I'm _un_done, Sir, And so do the companions true Who studied with you at the U- -niversity of London, Sir-- -niversity of London, Sir!
[_Weeps, and pulls out report of stormy meeting of Convocation of University of London, where new draft charter (of which_ Lord HERSCHELL and Lord Justice FRY _were the most prominent advocates) was rejected by 461 votes against 197._
II.
Report! It saddens me--and you. Was it in cruel fun done, Sir! What QUAIN and HERSCHELL, said was true! Durham can crow it o'er the U- -niversity of London, Sir! -niversity of London, Sir!
[_At the repetition