The Master Builder and Other Plays

by Henrik Ibsen

  RITA [soothingly, getting up]: There, there!

  ALLMERS [ominously]: But those boys, one of these days they’re going to find out just who’s master on that beach down there!

  ASTA [listening]: Someone’s knocking.

  EYOLF: It must be Mr Borgheim!

  RITA: Come in!

  THE RAT-MAID shuffles in softly through the door on the right. She is a small, thin, bent character, old and grey-haired with sharp, piercing eyes. She wears an old-fashioned, floral-print dress, a black poke bonnet and cape. In one hand she has a large red umbrella and, hanging from her arm by a cord, a black bag.

  EYOLF [in a whisper, tugging at ASTA’s dress]: Aunt! That must be her!

  THE RAT-MAID [curtseying in the doorway]: Begging your pardon most humbly – but would your lordships have anything a-gnawing here in the house?

  ALLMERS: Us? No, I don’t think so.

  THE RAT-MAID: Ah, because if you had, I’d be so happy to help your lordships be rid of it.

  RITA: Yes, yes, we realize that. But there’s nothing like that here.

  THE RAT-MAID: That’s most unfortunate, so it is. Because I’m just on my rounds now and there’s no knowing when I’ll be back in these parts again. – Oh, I’m that weary!

  ALLMERS [pointing to a chair]: Yes, you look it.

  THE RAT-MAID: Not that a body could ever grow weary of doing well by those poor wee mites, as grievously hated and hunted as they are. But it fairly takes it out of you.

  RITA: Won’t you sit down and rest a while?

  THE RAT-MAID: A thousand thanks to you. [Sits down on a chair between the door and the sofa.] All night I’ve been about my business, you see.

  ALLMERS: Oh, you have?

  THE RAT-MAID: Aye, over on the islands. [Chuckling] The folk there certainly had call for me. They balked at it, for sure. But there was nothing else for it. It was a bitter pill, so it was, but they had to swallow it. [Looking at EYOLF and nodding] A bitter pill, little master. A bitter pill.

  EYOLF [blurting out, rather timidly]: Why did they have to –?

  THE RAT-MAID: What?

  EYOLF: Swallow it?

  THE RAT-MAID: Why, because they couldn’t stand it any longer. What with the rats and all the wee rat babies, don’t you know, young master.

  RITA: Oh! Those poor people – have they so many of them?

  THE RAT-MAID: Aye, the place was swarming with them. [Giving a soft, gleeful chuckle] Creeping and crawling over the beds all night long, so they were. Plopping into the milk dishes. And scurrying and scrabbling hither and thither across the floors.

  EYOLF [softly to ASTA]: I’m never going out there, Aunt.

  THE RAT-MAID: But then I came – me and another. And we took them all away with us. The dear wee things! We two put paid to them every one.

  EYOLF [crying out]: Daddy – look, look!

  RITA: Good gracious, Eyolf!

  ALLMERS: What’s the matter?

  EYOLF [pointing]: There’s something wriggling about in that bag!

  RITA [over on the left, screams]: Ugh! Get her out, Alfred!

  THE RAT-MAID [laughing]: Oh, dear, sweet lady, don’t you be afraid of sich a wee beastie.8

  ALLMERS: But what on earth is it?

  THE RAT-MAID: ’Tis only my little Puggy-boy.9 [Opening the bag] Up you come out of the dark, my dearest one.

  A little dog with a broad, black nose pokes its head out of the bag.

  THE RAT-MAID [nodding and beckoning to EYOLF]: Come closer, my little wounded soldier, don’t be afraid! He won’t bite. Come! Come!

  EYOLF [staying close to ASTA]: Oh, no, I daren’t.

  THE RAT-MAID: Does the young master not think he has a gentle and lovable countenance?

  EYOLF [astonished, pointing]: That thing!

  THE RAT-MAID: Aye, him.

  EYOLF [in a half-whisper, eyes riveted on the dog]: I think he has the most horrible – countenance I’ve ever seen.

  THE RAT-MAID [drawing the bag closed]: Oh, it’ll come. It’ll come for sure.

  EYOLF [edging closer in spite of himself, coming right up to her and gently stroking the bag]: Sweet – he is sweet, though.

  THE RAT-MAID [in a gentle voice]: But now he’s so tired and weary, the poor thing. All tired out, so he is. [Looking at ALLMERS] For it takes it out of you – that sort of game, believe me, your lordship.

  ALLMERS: What sort of game do you mean?

  THE RAT-MAID: The luring game.

  ALLMERS: Aha, so the dog lures the rats, is that it?

  THE RAT-MAID [nodding]: Puggy-boy and me. Together we do it. And it goes so smooth. Or so it seems. We just tie a leash to his collar. Then I walk him round the house three times.10 And play the Jew’s harp. And when they hear that, then they must come up from the cellars, and down from the attics and out of their holes – all those blessed wee creatures.

  EYOLF: And then does he bite them to death?

  THE RAT-MAID: Oh, not at all! No, we walk down to the boat, he and I. And they follow us. Both the grown ones and their wee ones.

  EYOLF [excitedly]: And then what –? Tell me!

  THE RAT-MAID: Then we put out to sea. And I ply the oars and play the Jew’s harp. And Puggy-boy, he swims along behind. [Her eyes twinkle.] And all those creeping, crawling creatures they follow us and follow us, out into the waters of the deep. Aye, because they must, you see!

  EYOLF: Why must they?

  THE RAT-MAID: Simply because they don’t want to. Because they’re so mortal afraid of the water – so they must go out into it.

  EYOLF: Do they drown then?

  THE RAT-MAID: Every last one. [Lowering her voice] And then everything is as nice and quiet and dark for them as they could ever wish – the wee darlings. Sleeping down there, such a long, sweet slumber. All those creatures that folk hate and hunt. [Getting up] Aye, there was a time when I didn’t need a Puggy-boy. Back then I did the luring myself. I alone.

  EYOLF: What sort of things did you lure?

  THE RAT-MAID: People. One most of all.

  EYOLF [eagerly]: Oh, who was it – tell me!

  THE RAT-MAID [laughing]: My best beloved, that’s who it was, you little heartbreaker!

  EYOLF: And where is he now?

  THE RAT-MAID [harshly]: Down below with all the rats. [Pleasantly again] But now I have to be back about my business. Always on the go. [To RITA] Do your lordships have no use for me at all today? Because if you had I could deal with it straight away.

  RITA: No, thank you; I don’t think that will be necessary.

  THE RAT-MAID: Well-well, dear lady – you never know –. Should your lordships happen to notice anything nibbling and gnawing around here – and creeping and crawling – then just you send for me and Puggy-boy. – Farewell, farewell, a thousand farewells.

  She leaves by the door on the right.

  EYOLF [softly, exultantly to ASTA]: Oh, Aunt, just think, now I’ve seen the Rat-Maid too!

  RITA steps out on to the veranda and fans herself with her handkerchief. Shortly afterwards EYOLF tiptoes out all unnoticed to the right.

  ALLMERS [picking up the attaché case from the table in front of the sofa]: Is this your case, Asta?

  ASTA: Yes. I have some of the old letters in it.

  ALLMERS: Ah, the family letters –

  ASTA: Well, you did ask me to sort them out for you while you were away.

  ALLMERS [patting her on the head]: And you found time for that as well, did you!

  ASTA: Yes, well – I did a bit out here and a bit at home in town.

  ALLMERS: Thank you, my dear –. Did you come across anything in particular among them?

  ASTA [carelessly]: Oh – one always comes across something among old papers like those, you know that. [Quieter, solemnly] In there, in that case, are the letters to Mother.

  ALLMERS: Ah, but those you must keep yourself, of course.

  ASTA [with some effort]: No. I want you to take a look at them too, Alfred. Sometime – later in life. But I don’t have the key
to the case on me today.

  ALLMERS: It’s not needed, Asta dear. Because I’ll never read your mother’s letters anyway.

  ASTA [fixing her eyes on him]: Then one day – some quiet evening, I’ll tell you something of what’s in them.

  ALLMERS: Yes, why don’t you do that? But just you keep your mother’s letters. You don’t have that much to remind you of her.

  He hands ASTA the attaché case. She takes it and lays it on the chair, under her jacket.

  RITA comes back into the room.

  RITA: Ugh, I feel as though that ghastly old woman11 has brought the smell of death into the house.

  ALLMERS: Yes, she was rather ghastly.

  RITA: I felt quite ill just having her in the room.

  ALLMERS: Although, I think I understand that enticing, ensnaring power of which she spoke. The solitude one finds up among the peaks and in the wide-open spaces exerts something of that same pull.

  ASTA [eyeing him intently]: Something has happened to you, Alfred – what is it?

  ALLMERS [smiling]: Happened to me?

  ASTA: Yes, because something has. Like a transformation almost. Rita has noticed it too.

  RITA: Yes, I saw it the minute you got here. But that can only be good, can’t it, Alfred?

  ALLMERS: It ought to be good. And it must, it will be to the good.

  RITA [crying out]: You experienced something on that trip! Don’t deny it! I can see it in your face!

  ALLMERS [shaking his head]: Not a thing – not outwardly. But –

  RITA [eagerly]: But –?

  ALLMERS: Inside me a small revolution has taken place, it’s true.

  RITA: Oh, heavens –!

  ALLMERS [reassuringly, patting her hand]: In a good way, though, Rita dear. You can rest easy on that score.

  RITA [sitting down on the sofa]: Now this you simply have to tell us about straight away. All of it!

  ALLMERS [turning to ASTA]: Yes, why don’t we sit down as well, you and me. And I’ll try to tell you. As best I can.

  He sits down on the sofa next to RITA. ASTA pulls up a chair and sits down close to him. Brief pause.

  RITA [eyeing him expectantly]: Well –?

  ALLMERS [gazing into space]: When I think back on my life – and my destiny – over the past ten or eleven years, it seems to me almost like a fairy tale, or a dream. Don’t you feel that too, Asta?

  ASTA: Yes, in many ways I do feel that.

  ALLMERS [continuing]: When I think of how we used to be, Asta. Poor, penniless orphans that we were –

  RITA [impatiently]: Yes, yes, but that was all so long ago.

  ALLMERS [ignoring her]: And now here I am, surrounded by affluence and luxury. Have been able to follow my calling.12 Have been able to work and study – just as I pleased. [Holds out his hand] And all of this great, this inconceivable good fortune13 – this we owe to you, you dearest Rita.

  RITA [half in jest, half in annoyance, smacking his hand]: Oh, stop it now, enough of such talk.

  ALLMERS: I only mention this by way of introduction, as it were –

  RITA: Oh, skip the introduction!

  ALLMERS: Rita – you mustn’t think it was the doctor’s orders that drove me up into the mountains.

  ASTA: It wasn’t, Alfred?

  RITA: So what was it that drove you?

  ALLMERS: It was the fact that I could no longer find any peace at my desk.

  RITA: No peace! But my dear, who disturbed you!

  ALLMERS [shaking his head]: Outwardly no one. But I had the feeling that I was downright abusing – or, no – neglecting my greatest gifts. That I was squandering my time.

  ASTA [wide-eyed]: When you were writing your book?

  ALLMERS [nodding]: Because I can’t just have a gift for that and that alone, can I? I must surely be capable of doing something else too.

  RITA: Was that what you were brooding about?

  ALLMERS: Yes, more or less.

  RITA: So that’s why you’ve been feeling so discontented with yourself lately. And with all of us too. Because you have been, you know, Alfred.

  ALLMERS [staring into space]: There I sat, hunched over my desk, writing day after day. And often half the night too. Writing and writing for my great, fat book On Human Responsibility. Hm!

  ASTA [placing a hand on his arm]: But, my dear – that book is to be your life’s work.

  RITA: Yes, you’ve said so yourself often enough.

  ALLMERS: I used to think that. From when I was a young man. [With glowing eyes] Then you enabled me to embark upon it, my dear Rita –

  RITA: Oh, rubbish!

  ALLMERS [smiling at her]: – you with your gold and green forests –14

  RITA [half laughing, half chiding]: Start all that silly talk again and I’ll punch you.

  ASTA [regarding him anxiously]: But the book, Alfred?

  ALLMERS: It seemed to slip farther and farther away. And instead the thought grew and grew of the higher duties that made their demands on me.

  RITA [face shining, grasping his hand]: Alfred!

  ALLMERS: The thought of Eyolf, Rita dear.

  RITA [disappointed, releasing his hand]: Ah – of Eyolf!

  ALLMERS: Poor little Eyolf has become lodged inside me, deeper and deeper. After that disastrous fall from the table –. And more so now that we know for certain that it is beyond repair –

  RITA [insistently]: But you do everything you possibly can for him, Alfred!

  ALLMERS: As a schoolmaster, yes. But not as a father. And a father is what I want to be to Eyolf from now on.

  RITA [looking at him and shaking her head]: I’m not sure I understand you.

  ALLMERS: I mean that I’m going to try with all my might to make what is beyond repair as painless and as easy for him as possible.

  RITA: Oh, but you know – I don’t think he feels it that deeply, thank goodness.

  ASTA [moved]: Oh yes, Rita, he does.

  ALLMERS: Yes, of that you can be sure, he feels it deeply.

  RITA [shortly]: But my dear – what more can you do for him?

  ALLMERS: I’m going to try to illuminate the whole wealth of possibilities now dawning in his childish mind. All the noble shoots within him I shall foster and help to grow – bear flowers and fruit. [With greater and greater fervour, getting to his feet] And I shall do more than that! I shall help him to attune his desires to what lies within his reach. Because that is not how he is now. He yearns only for those things which all his life will be beyond his reach. But I shall instil in his soul a sense of happiness.

  He paces up and down the floor a couple of times. ASTA and RITA follow him with their eyes.

  RITA: You ought to take these things more calmly, Alfred.

  ALLMERS [stopping by the table on the left and looking at them]: Eyolf will carry on my life’s work. If he so wishes. Or he can choose to do something that is entirely his own. That might actually be best. – Anyway, to cover all eventualities, I’ll let my part in it rest now.

  RITA [rising]: But Alfred, dearest – can’t you work both for yourself and for Eyolf?

  ALLMERS: No, I can’t. Impossible! I can’t split myself in two where this is concerned. And so I’m standing aside. Eyolf shall be the complete one15 in our family. And I’m going to make it my new life’s work to bring him to that completion.

  ASTA [has risen and walks over to him]: You’ve had to fight a terribly hard battle, Alfred.

  ALLMERS: Yes, I have. Here at home I could never have got the better of myself. Never forced myself to such a renunciation.16 Never here at home.

  RITA: So was that why you went away this summer?

  ALLMERS [eyes shining]: Yes! And then I climbed up into that endless solitude. Saw the sunrise shining on the mountain peaks. Felt myself closer to the stars. Almost, as it were, in understanding and fellowship with them. And then I could do it.

  ASTA [eyeing him mournfully]: But you’ll never write any more of your book On Human Responsibility?

  ALLMERS: No, never, Asta
. I told you, I can’t split myself between two tasks. – But I mean to practise human responsibility – in my own life.

  RITA [with a smile]: Do you really believe you can hold to such lofty resolutions here at home?

  ALLMERS [taking her hand]: Together with you I can. [Reaching out his other hand] And together with you too, Asta.

  RITA [pulling her hand away]: With two people, in other words. So you can, in fact, split yourself in two.

  ALLMERS: But Rita dearest –!

  RITA walks away from him and stops by the French windows.

  There is a quick, light knock on the door to the right. MR BORGHEIM, the engineer, steps smartly into the room. He is a young man of around thirty. Cheerful, jaunty manner. Upright bearing.

  BORGHEIM: Good morning, good morning, ma’am! [Stops short in delight at sight of ALLMERS.] Well, well – what’s this I see! Back home so soon, Mr Allmers?

  ALLMERS [shaking his hand]: Yes, I arrived last night.

  RITA [gaily]: He wasn’t allowed any longer, Mr Borgheim.

  ALLMERS: Oh, now, Rita, you know that’s not true –

  RITA [drawing closer]: It most certainly is true. His leave had expired.

  BORGHEIM: So you keep your husband on that tight a leash, do you, ma’am?

  RITA: I insist on my rights. And everything has to come to an end sometime.

  BORGHEIM: Oh, not everything – I hope. – Good morning, Miss Allmers!

  ASTA [evasively]: Good morning.

  RITA [looking at BORGHEIM]: Not everything, you say?

  BORGHEIM: Yes, I firmly believe there are some things at least in this world that never end.

  RITA: Here I take it you’re thinking of love – and that sort of thing.

  BORGHEIM [ardently]: I’m thinking of everything that’s fine and good.

  RITA: And that never ends. Yes, let’s think of that. Hope for it, all of us.

  ALLMERS [coming over to join them]: I suppose you’ll soon be finished building that road out here?

  BORGHEIM: I am finished. Was finished yesterday. It’s taken long enough. But that did come to an end, thank heavens.

  RITA: And you’re tickled pink17 about that?

  BORGHEIM: Yes, I am indeed!

  RITA: Well, I must say –

  BORGHEIM: Excuse me, ma’am?

  RITA: That’s not particularly nice of you, Mr Borgheim.