The Lady From The Sea | Page 7

old acquaintance?
Ellida (holding out her hand to ARNHOLM). So here you are!
Welcome! And forgive me for not being at home--
Arnholm. Don't mention it--don't stand on any ceremony.
Wangel. Was the water nice and fresh today?
Ellida. Fresh! Oh! The water here never is fresh. It is so tepid and
lifeless. Ugh! The water in the fjord here is sick.
Arnholm. Sick?
Ellida. Yes, sick. And I believe it makes one sick, too.
Wangel (smiling). You're giving our bathing resort a good name!
Arnholm. I should rather believe, Mrs. Wangel, that you have a
peculiar relation to the sea, and to all that belongs to it.
Ellida. Perhaps; I almost think so myself. But do you see how festively
the girls have arranged everything in your honour?
Wangel (embarrassed). Hm! (Looks at his watch.) Well, I suppose I
must be quick and--
Arnholm. Is it really for me?
Ellida. Yes. You may be sure we don't decorate like this every day.
Ugh! How suffocatingly hot it is under this roof. (Goes down into the
garden.) Come over here. Here at least there is a little air. (Sits down in
arbour.)
Arnholm (going thither). I think the air quite fresh here.
Ellida. Yes, you--who are used to the stifling air of the town! It's
terrible there in the summer, I hear.
Wangel (who has also gone into the garden). Hm, dear Ellida, you must
just entertain our friend alone for a little while.
Ellida. Are you busy?

Wangel. Yes, I must go down to the office. And then I must change.
But I won't be long.
Arnholm (sitting down in arbour). Now, don't hurry, dear doctor. Your
wife and I will manage to kill the time.
Wangel (nodding). Oh, yes! I'm sure you will. Well, goodbye for the
present. (He goes out through the garden.)
Ellida (after a short pause). Don't you think it's pleasant sitting out
here?
Arnholm. I think I've a pleasant seat now.
Ellida. They call this my arbour, because I had it fitted up, or rather
Wangel did, for me.
Arnholm. And you usually sit here?
Ellida. Yes, I pass most of the day here.
Arnholm. With the girls, I suppose?
Ellida. No, the girls--usually sit on the verandah.
Arnholm. And Wangel himself?
Ellida. Oh! Wangel goes to and fro--now he comes to me, and then he
goes to his children.
Arnholm. And is it you who wish this?
Ellida. I think all parties feel most comfortable in this way. You know
we can talk across to one another--if we happen to find there is
anything to say.
Arnholm (after thinking awhile). When I last crossed your path-- out at
Skjoldviken, I mean--Hm! That is long ago now.
Ellida. It's quite ten years since you were there with us.
Arnholm. Yes, about that. But when I think of you out there in the
lighthouse! The heathen, as the old clergyman called you, because your
father had named you, as he said, after an old ship, and hadn't given
you a name fit for a Christian.
Ellida. Well, what then?
Arnholm. The last thing I should then have believed was that I should
see you again down here as the wife of Wangel.
Ellida. No; at that time Wangel wasn't--at that time the girls' first
mother was still living. Their real mother, so-
Arnholm. Of course, of course! But even if that had not been- even if
he had been free--still, I could never have believed this would come
about.

Ellida. Nor I. Never on earth--then.
Arnholm. Wangel is such a good fellow. So honourable. So thoroughly
good and kind to all men.
Ellida (warmly and heartily). Yes, he is indeed.
Arnholm. But he must be so absolutely different from you, I fancy.
Ellida. You are right there. So he is.
Arnholm. Well, but how did it happen? How did it come about?
Ellida. Ah! dear Arnholm, you mustn't ask me about that. I couldn't
explain it to you, and even if I could, you would never be able to
understand, in the least.
Arnholm. Hm! (In lower tone.) Have you ever confided anything about
me to your husband? Of course, I meant about the useless step--I
allowed myself to be moved to.
Ellida. No. You may be sure of that. I've not said a word to him
about--about what you speak of.
Arnholm. I am glad. I felt rather awkward at the thought that--
Ellida. There was no need. I have only told him what is true-- that I
liked you very much, and that you were the truest and best friend I had
out there.
Arnholm. Thanks for that. But tell me--why did you never write to me
after I had gone away?
Ellida. I thought that perhaps it would pain you to hear from one