by Henrik Ibsen
ELLA RENTHEIM: Then I’ll win him back again! [Hoarse, in a half whisper] This isn’t the first time we two have fought a life-and-death battle over a human being, Gunhild!
MRS BORKMAN [looks triumphantly at her]: Yes, and the victory was mine.
ELLA RENTHEIM [with a scornful smile]: And you still believe that you profited from that victory?12
MRS BORKMAN [darkly]: No – you’re absolutely right about that.
ELLA RENTHEIM: There won’t be any profit this time either.
MRS BORKMAN: No profit in maintaining a mother’s power over Erhart?
ELLA RENTHEIM: No; because it’s only the power you want.
MRS BORKMAN: What about you, then?
ELLA RENTHEIM [warmly]: I want his loving mind – his soul – his whole heart –!
MRS BORKMAN [in an outburst]: You’ll never have that again – not in this world!
ELLA RENTHEIM [looks at her]: You’ve made sure of that, have you?
MRS BORKMAN [smiles]: Yes, I have actually allowed myself to do so. Couldn’t you tell from his letters?
ELLA RENTHEIM [nods slowly]: Yes. His letters were full of you in the end.
MRS BORKMAN [provocatively]: You see, I’ve made good use of the eight years I’ve been able to keep an eye on him.
ELLA RENTHEIM [controlled]: What have you said to Erhart about me? Do you think you might tell me?
MRS BORKMAN: Oh yes, I can certainly do that.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Well go ahead, then!
MRS BORKMAN: I’ve only told him the truth.
ELLA RENTHEIM: And?
MRS BORKMAN: I’ve always been at pains to impress upon him that he should better remember that it is you we have to thank for being able to live as well as we do. For being able to live at all.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Is that it?
MRS BORKMAN: Oh, but that sort of thing rankles, you know. I feel it myself.
ELLA RENTHEIM: But that’s more or less what Erhart already knew.
MRS BORKMAN: When he came back home to me he imagined that you had done it all out of the kindness of your heart. [Looks at her with malice] He no longer believes that, Ella.
ELLA RENTHEIM: So what does he believe now?
MRS BORKMAN: He believes what is true. I asked him how he explained the fact that Aunt Ella never came here to visit us –
ELLA RENTHEIM [interrupting]: He already knew why!
MRS BORKMAN: He knows better now. You had him believe that it was to spare me and – and him, the one walking about up there in the gallery –
ELLA RENTHEIM: But it was.
MRS BORKMAN: Erhart no longer believes a word of it.
ELLA RENTHEIM: So what have you got him to believe about me?
MRS BORKMAN: He thinks you’re ashamed of us – that you despise us, which you do. Or perhaps you don’t? Didn’t you once plan to tear him away from me completely? Think, Ella. Surely you remember?
ELLA RENTHEIM [dismissive]: That was at the height of the scandal. When the case was before the court. – I don’t think in those terms any more.
MRS BORKMAN: Even if you did, it wouldn’t get you very far. For what would become of his mission in that case? No, thank you! Erhart needs me – not you. That’s why he’s as good as dead to you! And you to him!
ELLA RENTHEIM [coldly, resolute]: We’ll see. Because I’ll be staying out here now.
MRS BORKMAN [stares at her]: Here? In this house?
ELLA RENTHEIM: Yes, here.
MRS BORKMAN: Here – with us? For the rest of the night?
ELLA RENTHEIM: For the rest of my life if I have to.
MRS BORKMAN [collects herself]: Well, yes, Ella, it’s your property after all –
ELLA RENTHEIM: What –!
MRS BORKMAN: Everything is yours. The chair I’m sitting in is yours. The bed I toss and turn in at night belongs to you. The food we eat, we get from you.
ELLA RENTHEIM: That can’t be helped. Borkman can’t have any property in his own name; if he did, someone would be over in a trice to take it from him.
MRS BORKMAN: I’m well aware of that. We’ll just have to put up with living on your mercy and charity.
ELLA RENTHEIM [coldly]: I can’t stop you seeing it like that, Gunhild.
MRS BORKMAN: No, you can’t. – When do you want us to move out?
ELLA RENTHEIM [looks at her]: Move out?
MRS BORKMAN [agitatedly]: Yes; you surely don’t imagine that I would stay on here, living under the same roof as you! – No, I’d rather the poorhouse,13 or be a vagrant!
ELLA RENTHEIM: Fine. Then let me take Erhart –
MRS BORKMAN: Erhart! My own son! My child!
ELLA RENTHEIM: Yes – because then I’d go home immediately.
MRS BORKMAN [after brief consideration, firmly]: Erhart himself will choose between us.
ELLA RENTHEIM [looks doubtfully and uncertainly at her]: Erhart choose? Well! Do you dare, Gunhild?
MRS BORKMAN [with a hard laugh]: Do I dare? Let my boy choose between his mother and you! Oh yes, I dare all right!
ELLA RENTHEIM [listening]: Is someone coming? I think I can hear –
MRS BORKMAN: That will be Erhart –
There is a sharp knock at the door from the hall, which opens instantly. MRS WILTON enters, wearing evening dress, and a coat. Behind her the MAID, who has not had time to announce her14 and seems at a loss. The door is left half open. MRS WILTON is a strikingly beautiful, voluptuous lady in her thirties. Full, red, smiling lips. Sparkling eyes. Luxuriant dark hair.
MRS WILTON: Good evening, my dearest Mrs Borkman!
MRS BORKMAN [rather drily] Good evening, Mrs Wilton. [To the MAID, pointing towards the garden room] Fetch the lamp and light it.
The MAID fetches the lamp and leaves with it.
MRS WILTON [sees ELLA RENTHEIM]: Oh, I do beg your pardon – you have a visitor –
MRS BORKMAN: Only my sister; she’s just arrived from – ERHART BORKMAN, opening wide the half-open door, bursts in. He is a young man with bright, confident eyes. Elegantly dressed. An incipient moustache.
ERHART [radiant with joy; on the threshold]: What’s this! Aunt Ella here! [Rushes up to her, takes her hands] Aunt Ella! Aunt Ella! Is it possible! Are you really here?
ELLA RENTHEIM [throws her arms round his neck]: Erhart! My dear, kind boy! Goodness, how you’ve grown! Oh, it’s so good to see you again!
MRS BORKMAN [sharply]: What does this mean, Erhart – were you hiding in the hallway?
MRS WILTON [quickly]: Erhart – Borkman arrived with me.
MRS BORKMAN [looks him up and down]: I see, Erhart. So you don’t come to your mother’s first?
ERHART: I just had to pop in to Mrs Wilton’s for a moment – to pick up little Frida.
MRS BORKMAN: Is that Miss Foldal with you too?
MRS WILTON: Yes, we left her waiting in the entrance hall.
ERHART [calls through the open door]: Just go straight up, Frida.
Pause. ELLA RENTHEIM observes ERHART. He seems embarrassed and a little impatient; his face grows tense and cold.
The MAID brings the lighted lamp into the garden room, leaves and closes the door behind her.
MRS BORKMAN [with forced politeness]: Well, Mrs Wilton – if you would care to join us this evening, please –
MRS WILTON: Thank you so much, my dear Mrs Borkman. But I can’t even consider it. We have another invitation. We’re on our way down to the lawyer’s house, to the Hinkels’.
MRS BORKMAN [looking at her]: We? Who’s we?
MRS WILTON [laughing]: Oh, I really meant just myself. But I was on strict instructions from the ladies of the house to bring young Mr Borkman with me – if I happened to see him.
MRS BORKMAN: Which, I can see, you have.
MRS WILTON: Yes, luckily. He was kind enough to drop in – because of little Frida.
MRS BORKMAN [drily]: But, Erhart – I didn’t actually know you knew that family – the Hinkels.
ERHART [irritated]: No, in fact I don’t r
eally know them. [Adds rather impatiently] It seems that you know better than anyone, Mother, who I know and don’t know.
MRS WILTON: Who cares! In that house you’re soon made to feel at home! Happy, merry, hospitable people. Full of young ladies.
MRS BORKMAN [with emphasis]: If I know my son, Mrs Wilton, they’re no company for him.
MRS WILTON: But heavens, dear Mrs Borkman, he’s young, too!
MRS BORKMAN. Yes, fortunately he is young. That’s just as well.
ERHART [concealing his impatience]: All right, all right, all right, Mother – it goes without saying I won’t be going along to the Hinkels this evening. I’ll stay here with you and Aunt Ella, of course.
MRS BORKMAN: I knew you would, my dear Erhart.
ELLA RENTHEIM: No, Erhart – you really mustn’t stay away on my account –
ERHART: Of course I will, my dear Aunt; I won’t hear of anything else. [Looks uncertainly at MRS WILTON.] But how are we to sort this out? Will it be all right? You’ve already accepted – on my behalf.
MRS WILTON [cheerfully]: What nonsense! Why shouldn’t it be all right? When I – abandoned and alone – enter those joyful, brightly lit rooms – just imagine! I will simply apologize – on your behalf.
ERHART [drawn out]: Well, if you’re sure that’s all right, then –
MRS WILTON [light, dismissively]: I have so often both accepted and declined invitations – on my own behalf. Would you really leave your aunt like that when she’s only just arrived? Shame on you, Monsieur Erhart – is that any way for a son to behave?
MRS BORKMAN [ill at ease]: Son?
MRS WILTON: Well, foster-son then, Mrs Borkman.
MRS BORKMAN: Yes, you might add that.
MRS WILTON: Oh, I personally think people have more to thank a good foster-mother for than their own mothers.
MRS BORKMAN: Has that been your experience?
MRS WILTON: God knows I barely knew my mother. But if I’d had such a good foster-mother – perhaps I wouldn’t have turned out to be – as naughty as people say I am. [Turns towards ERHART.] Now, Mr Borkman – you stay at home with Mummy and Auntie like a good boy – and have tea! [To the ladies] Goodbye, goodbye, Mrs Borkman! Goodbye, Miss Rentheim.
The ladies nod in silence. She walks towards the door.
ERHART [goes after her]: Shouldn’t I walk a bit of the way with you?
MRS WILTON [in the doorway, stopping him]: Not a single step. I’m quite used to leaving alone. [Stops in the doorway, looks at him and nods.] But I’m warning you – watch out – Mr Borkman!
ERHART: Why should I watch out?
MRS WILTON [cheerfully]: Why? Because as I walk down the road – like I said, abandoned and alone – I’ll see if I can’t cast a spell15 on you.
ERHART [laughs]: Oh, I see! You’re going to try that again?
MRS WILTON [half serious]: Yes, just you be careful! As I walk down the road, I’ll say to myself – summoning all the power of my will – I will say: ‘Mr Erhart Borkman, get your hat at once!’
MRS BORKMAN: And do you think he will?
MRS WILTON [laughing]: Oh, good heavens – yes; he’ll grab his hat at once. And then I’ll say: ‘Now put on your overcoat, nicely, Erhart Borkman! And your galoshes! Make sure you don’t forget your galoshes! And then follow me! Good boy! Good boy! Good boy!’
ERHART [with forced cheerfulness]: Oh, you can count on it.
MRS WILTON [with a raised forefinger]: There’s a good boy! There’s a good boy! Goodnight!
She laughs and nods to the ladies, and closes the door behind her.
MRS BORKMAN: Does she really cast spells like that?
ERHART: No, not at all. How can you think that? She’s only joking. [Breaking off] But let’s not talk about Mrs Wilton now.
He urges ELLA RENTHEIM to sit down in the armchair beside the stove.
ERHART [stands and looks at her for a while]: I can’t believe you made that long journey, Aunt Ella! And in winter too!
ELLA RENTHEIM: I had to in the end, Erhart.
ERHART: Really? How so?
ELLA RENTHEIM: I had to come to consult the doctors.
ERHART: That’s good!
ELLA RENTHEIM [smiles]: Why do you think that’s so good?
ERHART: I mean that you finally made up your mind.
MRS BORKMAN [on the sofa, coldly]: Are you ill, Ella?
ELLA RENTHEIM [looks hard at her]: You know very well I’m ill.
MRS BORKMAN: Well, yes, you have been somewhat sickly, for years –
ERHART: When I lived with you, I was forever telling you to go and speak to the doctor.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Well, there isn’t anyone back home I have any real confidence in. And, besides, it wasn’t so bad then.
ERHART: Is it worse now, then, Aunt?
ELLA RENTHEIM: Oh, yes, my dear boy; it is rather worse now.
ERHART: But nothing dangerous, is it?
ELLA RENTHEIM: Well, that depends how you look at it.
ERHART [eagerly]: Yes but you know what, Aunt Ella – then you mustn’t make that journey home again so soon.
ELLA RENTHEIM: No, I don’t think I’ll be doing that.
ERHART: You must stay here in town. Because you can have the pick of the best doctors here.
ELLA RENTHEIM: That was what I was thinking when I set off from home.
ERHART: And you must make sure you find a really nice place to stay – a quiet, cosy little guesthouse.
ELLA RENTHEIM: This morning I checked into the old one, the one I stayed in before.
ERHART: Good, you’ll definitely be comfortable there.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Yes, but I won’t be staying there after all.
ERHART: Really? Why not?
ELLA RENTHEIM: I changed my mind when I came out here.
ERHART [surprised]: Really –? You changed your mind –?
MRS BORKMAN [crocheting; without looking up]: Your aunt wants to live here on her own estate, Erhart.
ERHART [looking from one to the other]: Here! With us! Together with the rest of us! – Is this true, Aunt?
ELLA RENTHEIM: Yes, I’ve made up my mind now.
MRS BORKMAN [as before]: Everything here does belong to your aunt, you know.
ELLA RENTHEIM: So I’ll be staying out here, Erhart. At least for now. For the time being. I’ll set up on my own over in the estate manager’s wing –.
ERHART: Oh, that’s a good idea. You’ve always kept rooms ready there. [Suddenly lively] But, honestly, Aunt – you must be exhausted after your journey!
ELLA RENTHEIM: Oh yes, I do feel a little tired.
ERHART: Well, then, I think you should get to bed nice and early.
ELLA RENTHEIM [looks at him, smiling]: I intend to.
ERHART [eagerly]: And then, you see, we can have a long chat tomorrow – or some other day. About this and that. About everything. You and Mother and I. Wouldn’t that be much better, Aunt Ella?
MRS BORKMAN [in an outburst, getting up from the sofa]: Erhart – you want to leave me; I can see it in your face!
ERHART [starts]: What do you mean by that?
MRS BORKMAN: You want to go down to – to the lawyer’s house – to the Hinkels’?
ERHART [involuntarily]: Oh, that! [Collects himself] Well, do you think I should sit here and keep Aunt Ella up half the night instead? She is ill, Mother. Remember that.
MRS BORKMAN: You want to go to the Hinkels’, Erhart!
ERHART [impatiently]: For goodness’ sake, Mother, I don’t see how I can get out of it. What do you think, Aunt?
ELLA RENTHEIM: It’s best if you act in absolute freedom, Erhart.
MRS BORKMAN [approaches her threateningly]: You want to separate him from me!
ELLA RENTHEIM [rises]: Yes, if only I could, Gunhild!
Music is heard from above.
ERHART [writhing as if in pain]: Oh, I can’t stand this! [Looking round] What have I done with my hat? [To ELLA] Do you recognize the music from the gallery?
ELLA RE
NTHEIM: No. What is it?
ERHART: It’s the Danse macabre16 – the Dance of Death. Aren’t you familiar with the Dance of Death, Aunt?
ELLA RENTHEIM [smiles gravely]: Not yet, Erhart.
ERHART [to MRS BORKMAN]: Mother – I’m begging you – pretty please – let me go!
MRS BORKMAN [looks at him hard]: Away from your mother? Is that what you want?
ERHART: But I’ll be back – perhaps tomorrow!
MRS BORKMAN [passionately distraught]: You want to leave me! To be with those strangers! With – with –; no, I don’t even want to think about it!
ERHART: It’ll be full of bright lights down there. And happy young faces. And there’s music there, Mother!
MRS BORKMAN [pointing to the ceiling]: There’s music up there too, Erhart.
ERHART: Yes, but that music – that’s exactly what is driving me out of the house.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Do you begrudge your father this rare moment when he can forget himself?
ERHART: No, I don’t. He’s welcome to it, a thousand times over – as long as I don’t have to listen to it.
MRS BORKMAN [looks admonishingly at him]: Be strong, Erhart! Strong, my son! Never forget your great mission.
ERHART: Oh, Mother – spare me the grand phrases! I wasn’t born to be a missionary. – Goodnight, dear Aunt! Goodnight, Mother! [He hurries out through the hall.]
MRS BORKMAN [after a short silence]: It won’t take you long to get him back after all, Ella.
ELLA RENTHEIM: If only I dared believe that.
MRS BORKMAN: But you won’t keep him long, you’ll see.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Because of you, you mean?
MRS BORKMAN: Because of me – or her, the other one.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Rather her than you.
MRS BORKMAN [nods slowly]: I can understand that. I’ll second that: rather her than you.
ELLA RENTHEIM: Whatever becomes of him in the end –
MRS BORKMAN: It won’t make much difference, I shouldn’t think.
ELLA RENTHEIM [folds her coat over her arm]: For the first time in our lives, we twin sisters agree. Goodnight, Gunhild.
She goes out through the hall.
The music from upstairs grows louder.
MRS BORKMAN [stands still for a moment, starts, winces and whispers involuntarily]: The wolf is howling again. – The sick wolf. [She stands for a moment then throws herself down on to the carpet, writhing in pain and groaning in whispered lament.] Erhart! Erhart – keep faith with me! Come home and help your mother! I can’t stand living like this any more!