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Little Eyolf

Creator: Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906
Translator: Archer, William, 1856-1924
Contributor: -
Editor: -


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"The crutch is floating!" ALLMERS. [Almost paralysed.] No! No! No! RITA. [Hoarsely.] Eyolf! Eyolf! Oh, but they must save him! ALLMERS. [Half distracted.] They must, they must! So precious a life! [He rushes down through the garden.] ACT SECOND [A little narrow glen by the side of the fiord, on ALLMERS'S property. On the left, lofty old trees overarch the spot. Down the slope in the background a brook comes leaping, and loses itself among the stones on the margin of the wood. A path winds along by the brook-side. To the right there are only a few single trees, between which the fiord is visible. In front is seen the corner of a boat-shed with a boat drawn up. Under the old trees on the left stands a table with a bench and one or two chairs, all made of thin birch-staves. It is a heavy, damp day, with driving mist wreaths.]
The Ice-Maiden: and Other Tales.

LITTLE RUDY. Let us visit Switzerland and look around us in the glorious country of mountains, where the forest rises out of steep rocky walls; let us ascend to the dazzling snow-fields, and thence descend to the green plains, where the rivulets and brooks hasten away, foaming up, as if they feared not to vanish, as they reached the sea. The sun beams upon the deep valley, it burns also upon the heavy masses of snow; so that after the lapse of years, they melt into shining ice-blocks, and become rolling avalanches and heaped-up glaciers. Two of these lie in the broad clefts of the rock, under the Schreckhorn and Wetterhorn, near the little town of Grindelwald. They are so remarkable that many strangers come to gaze at them, in the summer time, from all parts of the world; they come over the high snow-covered mountains, they come from the deepest valleys, and they are obliged to ascend during many hours, and as they ascend, the valley sinks deeper and deeper, as though seen from an air-balloon.
[ALFRED ALLMERS, dressed as before, sits on the bench, leaning his arms on the table. His hat lies before him. He gazes absently and immovably out over the water.] [Presently ASTA ALLMERS comes down the woodpath. She is carrying an open umbrella.] ASTA. [Goes quietly and cautiously up to him.] You ought not to sit down here in this gloomy weather, Alfred. ALLMERS. [Nods slowly without answering.] ASTA. [Closing her umbrella.] I have been searching for you such a long time. ALLMERS. [Without expression.] Thank you. ASTA. [Moves a chair and seats herself close to him.] Have you been sitting here long? All the time? ALLMERS. [Does not answer at first. Presently he says.] No, I cannot grasp it. It seems so utterly impossible. ASTA. [Laying her hand compassionately on his arm.] Poor Alfred! ALLMERS. [Gazing at her.] Is it really true then, Asta? Or have I