Title:  Punch, or the London Charivari, Vol. 100, April 25, 1891

Author:  Various

Release Date:  December 6, 2004 [EBook #14277]

Language:  English

Character set encoding:  ASCII

*** Start of this project gutenberg EBOOK Punch ***

Produced by Malcolm Farmer and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading
Team.

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

Vol. 100.

April 25th, 1891.

MR. PUNCH’S POCKET IBSEN.

(Condensed and Revised Version by Mr P.’s Own Harmless Ibsenite.)

No.  III.—­Hedda Gabler.

Act I.

Scene—­A Sitting-room cheerfully decorated in dark colours.  Broad doorway, hung with black crape, in the wall at back, leading to a back Drawing-room, in which, above a sofa in black horsehair, hangs a posthumous portrait of the late General Gabler. On the piano is a handsome pall.  Through the glass panes of the back Drawing-room window are seen a dead wall and a cemetery.  Settees, sofas, chairs, &c., handsomely upholstered in black bombazine, and studded with small round nails.  Bouquets of immortelles and dead grasses are lying everywhere about.

Enter Aunt Julie (a good-natured looking lady in a smart hat).

Aunt J. Well, I declare, if I believe George or Hedda are up yet! (Enter George TESMAN, humming, stout, careless, spectacled.) Ah, my dear boy, I have called before breakfast to inquire how you and Hedda are after returning late last night from your long honeymoon.  Oh, dear me, yes; am I not your old Aunt, and are not these attentions usual in Norway?

George. Good Lord, yes!  My six months’ honeymoon has been quite a little travelling scholarship, eh?  I have been examining archives.  Think of that!  Look here, I’m going to write a book all about the domestic interests of the Cave-dwellers during the Deluge.  I’m a clever young Norwegian man of letters, eh?

Aunt J. Fancy your knowing about that too!  Now, dear me, thank Heaven!

George. Let me, as a dutiful Norwegian nephew, untie that smart, showy hat of yours. (Unties it, and pats her under the chin.) Well, to be sure, you have got yourself really up,—­fancy that! [He puts hat on chair close to table.

Aunt J. (giggling).  It was for HEDDA’S sake—­to go out walking with her in. (HEDDA approaches from the back-room; she is pallid, with cold, open, steel-grey eyes; her hair is not very thick, but what there is of it is an agreeable medium brown.) Ah, dear HEDDA! [She attempts to cuddle her.