A scrub-covered hill in the Allmers’s grounds. In the background a sheer drop bounded by a railing, with steps leading down on the left. Wide view of the fjord, far below. Over by the railing is a flagpole, with ropes but no flag flying. In the foreground on the right a summerhouse covered with vines and creepers. Outside it, a bench. It is late on a summer evening; the sky clear. Twilight is falling.
ASTA is sitting on the bench with her hands in her lap. She wears a coat and hat, her parasol is lying next to her and a small travelling bag is slung over her shoulder on a strap.
BORGHEIM comes up from the background on the left. He too has a travelling bag over his shoulder. Over his arm he carries a furled flag.
BORGHEIM [catching sight of ASTA]: Ah, so you’re up here are you?
ASTA: I’m just taking one last look out there.
BORGHEIM: Well, then it’s a good thing I came up here as well.
ASTA: Have you been searching for me?
BORGHEIM: Yes, I have. I wanted to say goodbye to you – for now. But not for the last time, I hope.
ASTA [with the glimmer of a smile]: You’re persistent, aren’t you?
BORGHEIM: A groundbreaker has to be.
ASTA: Have you seen anything of Alfred? Or Rita?
BORGHEIM: Yes, I’ve seen them both.
ASTA: Together?
BORGHEIM: No. Each in their own corner.
ASTA: What are you going to do with that flag?
BORGHEIM: Mrs Allmers1 asked me to come up and run it up.
ASTA: Run up the flag now?
BORGHEIM: To half-mast. It’s to fly both night and day, she says.
ASTA [sighing]: Poor Rita. And poor Alfred.
BORGHEIM [busy with the flag]: Do you have the heart to leave them? I only ask because I see you’re dressed for travelling.
ASTA [in a soft voice]: I must leave.
BORGHEIM: Well, if you must, then –
ASTA: And you’re leaving this evening too, I see.
BORGHEIM: I must as well. I’m taking the train. Are you?
ASTA: No. I’m going over on the steamer.
BORGHEIM [shooting a glance at her]: Going our separate ways, eh?
ASTA: Yes.
She sits and watches as he raises the flag to half-mast. This done, he goes over to her.
BORGHEIM: Miss Asta2 – you’ve no idea how I grieve for little Eyolf.
ASTA [looking up at him]: Yes, I’m sure you do.
BORGHEIM: And it hurts so much. Because it’s really not in my nature to be sad.
ASTA [looking up at the flag]: It’ll pass, in time – all of it. All our sorrows.
BORGHEIM: All of them? You think so?
ASTA: Like a shower of rain. Once you are far away, then –
BORGHEIM: It’d have to be very far away.
ASTA: And then of course you’ve that big new road to build.
BORGHEIM: But no one to help me with it.
ASTA: Oh, but of course you have.
BORGHEIM [shaking his head]: No, no one. No one to share the joy with. Because the joy is what matters most.
ASTA: Not the trouble and the hardship?
BORGHEIM: Bah – that sort of thing one can always get through alone.
ASTA: But the joy – that must be shared with someone, you mean?
BORGHEIM: Yes, otherwise what’s the good in being happy?
ASTA: Oh, no – you may have a point there.
BORGHEIM: Yes, well one can, of course, get by for a while with simply being happy in oneself. But in the long run that’s not enough. No, joy, that takes two.
ASTA: Only ever two? Never more? Never many?
BORGHEIM: Ah, now you see – that’s another matter. – Miss Asta – are you sure you couldn’t bring yourself to share happiness and joy and – and trouble and hardship – with just one – with one single person alone?
ASTA: I did do – once.
BORGHEIM: You did?
ASTA: Yes, all those years when my brother – when Alfred and I were living together.
BORGHEIM: Ah, with your brother, of course. That’s something else entirely, though. That, I’d say, would be described as peace rather than happiness.
ASTA: Well, it was lovely, anyway.
BORGHEIM: There, you see – if you think that was lovely, then just imagine – if he hadn’t been your brother!
ASTA [feels the urge to get up, but remains seated]: But then we would never have been living together. Because I was a child back then. And he not much more than one.
BORGHEIM [after a brief pause]: Were they so very lovely, those years?
ASTA: Oh yes, believe me, they were.
BORGHEIM: And did you have some truly bright, happy times back then?
ASTA: Oh yes, so many. So very many.
BORGHEIM: Tell me a little bit about those times, Miss Asta.
ASTA: Just small things, really.
BORGHEIM: Such as –? Well?
ASTA: Such as the time when Alfred graduated. And had done so well. And when, by and by, he was offered a post at this school or that. Or when he was writing a thesis. And would read it to me. And then later, when it was published in a journal.
BORGHEIM: Yes, I’m sure that must have been a pleasant, peaceful life. Brother and sister, sharing the joy. [Shaking his head] I don’t see how your brother could let you go, Asta!
ASTA [with pent-up emotion]: Well, Alfred got married.
BORGHEIM: Wasn’t that hard for you?
ASTA: Yes, to begin with. I felt that all of a sudden I had lost him completely.
BORGHEIM: Ah, but luckily you hadn’t.
ASTA: No.
BORGHEIM: But still. That he could do it. Marry, I mean. When he could have kept you all to himself!
ASTA [gazing into space]: He must have been subject to the law of change, I suppose.
BORGHEIM: The law of change?
ASTA: That’s what Alfred calls it.
BORGHEIM: Bah – what a stupid law that must be! I don’t believe for a moment in such a law.
ASTA [rising]: In time you may come to believe in it.
BORGHEIM: Never in all the world! [Urgently] Oh, listen to me, Miss Asta! Be sensible, please – for once. In this instance, I mean –
ASTA [breaking him off]: Oh, no, no – let’s not go over all that again!
BORGHEIM [carrying on as before]: Yes, Asta – I can’t possibly let you go that easily. Your brother has everything just the way he wants it now, you know. He’s getting on with his life quite contentedly without you. Doesn’t miss you at all. – And then there’s this thing – something that changes your whole situation here at a stroke –
ASTA [with a start]: What do you mean by ‘this thing’?
BORGHEIM: The child that’s been snatched away. What else?
ASTA [collecting herself]: Little Eyolf is gone away, yes.
BORGHEIM: And what more can you really do here? You no longer have that poor little boy to care for. No obligations – no business here of any sort –
ASTA: Oh, please, dear Mr Borgheim – don’t press me so hard.
BORGHEIM: But yes; I’d be mad not to try my utmost. In a day or so I’ll be leaving town. Might not see you there. Might not see you again for a long, long time. And who knows what could happen in the meantime?
ASTA [smiling gravely]: Do you fear the law of change after all?
BORGHEIM: No, not at all. [Laughing wryly] And it’s not as if there’s anything to change, anyway. Not in you, I mean. Because you really don’t care much for me, I can tell.
ASTA: You know very well I do.
BORGHEIM: Yes, but not nearly enough. Not the way I’d like you to. [More forcefully] My God, Asta – Miss Asta – this is as wrong of you as it can possibly be! Just beyond today and tomorrow all the happiness in the world could be lying waiting for us. And we let it lie there! Might we not come to regret that, Asta?
ASTA [quietly]: I don’t know. But we’ll have to leave all bright prospects to lie there anyway.
BORGHEIM [looking at her, controlling his feelings]: So I’ll have to build my roads alone?
ASTA [fervently]: Oh, if only I could join you in that! Help you with the hardship. Share the joy with you –
BORGHEIM: Would you – if you could?
ASTA: Yes, I would.
BORGHEIM: But you cannot?
ASTA [lowering her eyes]: Would you be content with only half of me?
BORGHEIM: No. I need to have you completely and utterly.
ASTA [looking at him, murmuring]: Then I cannot.
BORGHEIM: Well, goodbye, Miss Asta.
He turns to leave. ALLMERS comes up the hill on the left in the background. BORGHEIM stops.
ALLMERS [still climbing the hill, softly, pointing]: Is Rita in there in the summerhouse?
BORGHEIM: No, there’s no one else here but Miss Asta.
ALLMERS draws closer.
ASTA [turning to him]: Shall I go down and see if I can find her? Bring her up here perhaps?
ALLMERS [dismissively]: No, no, no – don’t bother. [To BORGHEIM] Was it you who ran up that flag?
BORGHEIM: Yes, Mrs Allmers asked me to. That’s why I came up here.
ALLMERS: And you’re leaving this evening, are you?
BORGHEIM: Yes, I’m leaving this evening, for good and all.
ALLMERS [with a glance at ASTA]: And assured yourself of a good travelling companion, I take it?
BORGHEIM [shaking his head]: I travel alone.
ALLMERS [puzzled]: Alone!
BORGHEIM: Quite, quite alone.
ALLMERS [absently]: Is that so?
BORGHEIM: And will remain alone, too.
ALLMERS: There’s something horrible about being alone. It sends a kind of chill right through me.
ASTA: Oh, but Alfred dear, you’re not alone!
ALLMERS: There can be something horrible about that too, Asta.
ASTA [distressed]: Oh, don’t talk like that! Don’t think like that!
ALLMERS [not listening to her]: But if you’re not leaving with –? If there’s nothing tying you? Why then don’t you stay out here with me – and with Rita?
ASTA [flustered]: No, I can’t do that. I absolutely have to go back into town now.
ALLMERS: But only back into town, Asta. D’you hear!
ASTA: Yes.
ALLMERS: And you promise me you’ll come out here again soon.
ASTA [hastily]: No, no. That I daren’t promise, not any time soon.
ALLMERS: All right. As you wish. So we’ll see one another in town then.
ASTA [beseechingly]: No, Alfred, you have to stay here with Rita now!
ALLMERS [not replying, turns to BORGHEIM]: It’s probably best for you that you have no travelling companion yet.
BORGHEIM [involuntarily]: Oh, how can you say such a thing!
ALLMERS: Well, I mean, you never know who you might run into later on. Along the way.
ASTA [impulsively]: Alfred!
ALLMERS: The right travelling companion. When it’s too late. Too late.
ASTA [softly, tremulously]: Alfred! Alfred!
BORGHEIM [his eyes flickering from one to the other]: What is all this? I don’t understand –
RITA appears in the background on the left.
RITA [plaintively]: Oh, don’t go off and leave me, all of you!
ASTA [going to meet her]: But you wanted to be alone, you said –
RITA: Yes, but I don’t dare. It’s getting so horribly dark. I feel as though big wide-open eyes are watching me!
ASTA [gently, sympathetically]: And what if they are, Rita? You needn’t be afraid of those eyes.
RITA: How can you say that! Not afraid!
ALLMERS [earnestly]: Asta, I beg you – please – stay here – with Rita!
RITA: Yes! And with Alfred, too! Do, Asta! Do, please!
ASTA [struggling]: Oh, I want to more than I can say –
RITA: So stay then! Because Alfred and I can’t go through the grief and the loss alone.
ALLMERS [grimly]: Say rather – through the gnawing guilt and the anguish.
RITA: Well, whatever you choose to call it – we can’t bear it alone, the two of us. Oh, Asta, I’m begging you, please! Stay here and help us! Take Eyolf’s place for us –
ASTA [recoiling]: Eyolf’s –!
RITA: Yes, she can, can’t she, Alfred?
ALLMERS: If she’s willing and able.
RITA: You used to call her your little Eyolf after all. [Grasping her hand] From now on you shall be our Eyolf, Asta! Eyolf, just like you used to be.
ALLMERS [with veiled emotion]: Stay – and share our life with us, Asta. With Rita. With me. With me – your brother!
ASTA [determined, pulling her hand away]: No. I can’t. [Turning] Mr Borgheim – when does the steamer leave?
BORGHEIM: Any time now.
ASTA: Then I’d better be getting on board. Will you come with me?
BORGHEIM [with a soft cry of joy]: Will I? Yes, yes, yes!
ASTA: Come then.
RITA [slowly]: Ah, so that’s it. Well in that case of course you can’t stay with us.
ASTA [throwing her arms around her]: Thank you for everything, Rita! [Going up to ALLMERS and clasping his hand] Alfred – goodbye! A thousand, thousand goodbyes!
ALLMERS [softly, breathlessly]: What’s this, Asta? Because it looks like escape.
ASTA [with quiet trepidation]: Yes, Alfred – it is escape.
ALLMERS: Escape – from me!
ASTA [whispering]: Escape from you – and from myself.
ALLMERS [pulling away]: Ah –!
ASTA hurries off down the hill in the background. With a flourish of his hat BORGHEIM follows her.
RITA leans against the doorway of the summerhouse. ALLMERS, in a state of profound inner turmoil, walks up to the railing and stands there, looking down. Pause.
ALLMERS [turning around, speaking with hard-won composure]: Here comes the steamer now. There Rita, look.
RITA: I don’t dare look at it.
ALLMERS: You don’t dare?
RITA: No. Because it has a red eye. And a green one too. Big, staring eyes.
ALLMERS: Oh, that’s just the lights, you know that.
RITA: From now on they’re eyes. To me. Gazing and gazing out of the darkness. – And into the darkness, too.
ALLMERS: That’s it docking now.
RITA: So where’s it docking this evening?
ALLMERS [coming closer]: At the jetty, as it always does, my dear –
RITA [drawing herself up]: Oh, how can it dock there!
ALLMERS: Well, because it has to.
RITA: But that’s where Eyolf –! So how can those people dock there?
ALLMERS: Yes, life is cruel, Rita.
RITA: People are so heartless. They show no consideration. For the living or the dead.
ALLMERS: You’re right. Life, it just goes on. Exactly as if nothing in the world had happened.
RITA [staring into space]: Nothing has happened either. Not to anyone else. Only to us two.
ALLMERS [in growing anguish]: Yes, Rita – how pointless it was for you to give birth to him in pain and suffering. Because now he’s gone again – leaving no trace of himself.
RITA: Only the crutch was recovered.
ALLMERS [sharply]: Be quiet! Don’t mention that word to me!
RITA [mournfully]: Oh, I can’t bear the thought that we no longer have him.
ALLMERS [coldly and bitterly]: You managed very well without him while you had him. You could go half the day without seeing him.
RITA: No, because I always knew I could see him whenever I wanted to.
ALLMERS: Yes, and so we’ve gone on here, squandering the short time we had with little Eyolf.
RITA [listening, fearful]: Do you hear that, Alfred! Now it’s ringing again!
ALLMERS [looking out at the water]: It’s the steamer bell ringing. It’s about to leave.
RITA: Oh, I don’t mean that bell. All day I’ve heard it ringing in my ears. – Now it’s ringing again!
ALLMERS [turning to her]: You’re mistaken, Rita.
RITA: No, I hear it so clearly. It sounds like the death knell tolling. Slowly. Slowly. And always the same words.
ALLMERS: Words? What words?
RITA [head nodding in time]: ‘Look – the crutch, look – the crutch. Float-ing, float-ing.’ Oh, I don’t see how you could help but hear it.
ALLMERS [shaking his head]: I can’t hear anything. And there’s nothing to hear.
RITA: Yes, well, you can say what you like. I hear it so clearly.
ALLMERS [gazing over the railing]: They’re on board now, Rita. Because now the boat’s heading over to town.
RITA: Oh, how can you not hear it! ‘Look – the crutch. Float-ing, float–.’
ALLMERS [walking towards her]: Don’t stand there listening to something that doesn’t exist. Asta and Borgheim are on board now, I said. Already on their way. – Asta is gone.
RITA [eyeing him diffidently]: Then I suppose you’ll soon be gone too, Alfred?
ALLMERS [abruptly]: What do you mean by that?
RITA: That you’ll be following your sister.
ALLMERS: Has Asta said anything?
RITA: No. But you said yourself it was consideration for Asta that – that brought us together.
ALLMERS: Yes, but you, you bound me to you. Through our life together.
RITA: Ah, but in your eyes I’m no longer – no longer so – all-consumingly lovely.
ALLMERS: The law of change could perhaps keep us together after all.
RITA [nodding slowly]: There is a change taking place in me now. I’m so painfully aware of it.
ALLMERS: Painfully?
RITA: Yes, because there’s a kind of birth in this too.
ALLMERS: There is. Or a resurrection. A crossing to a higher life.
RITA [gazing despondently into space]: Yes – with the wreck of all – all life’s happiness.
ALLMERS: In that wreck lies our gain.
RITA [sharply]: Oh, words! Good heavens, we’re just earthly beings after all.
ALLMERS: We have a certain kinship with the sea and the sky too, Rita.
RITA: You maybe. Not me.
ALLMERS: Oh, yes. You more than you actually realize.
RITA [taking a step closer]: Alfred, listen – wouldn’t you consider taking up your work again?
ALLMERS: The work that you have hated so?
RITA: I’m more easily satisfied now. I’m willing to share you with your book.
ALLMERS: Why?
RITA: Merely to be able to keep you here with me. Close at hand, as it were.
ALLMERS: Oh, I can be of so little help to you, Rita.
RITA: But maybe I could help you.
ALLMERS: With my work, you mean?
RITA: No. With living life.
ALLMERS [shaking his head]: I don’t feel I have any life to live.
RITA: Well, with enduring life then.
ALLMERS [grimly, staring into space]: I think it would be best for both of us if we parted.
RITA [studying him]: Where would you go then? To Asta, perhaps, after all?
ALLMERS: No. Never again to Asta henceforth.
RITA: Where then?
ALLMERS: Up into the solitude.
RITA: Up among the mountains? Is that what you mean?
ALLMERS: Yes.
RITA: But this is nothing but a pipe-dream, Alfred! Up there you could never live.
ALLMERS: It’s up there that I’m drawn, nonetheless.
RITA: Why? Answer me that!
ALLMERS: Sit down. And I’ll tell you a story.
RITA: About something that happened to you up there?
ALLMERS: Yes.
RITA: And that you’ve withheld from Asta and me?
ALLMERS: Yes.
RITA: Oh, you keep things so much to yourself. You shouldn’t do that.
ALLMERS: Come and sit here. And I’ll tell you all about it.
RITA: Yes, yes – do tell me!
She sits down on the bench outside the summerhouse.
ALLMERS: I was alone up there. Out on the high fells. And I came to a vast, desolate mountain lake. And this lake I had to cross. But that I couldn’t do. Because there were no boats and no people.
RITA: Yes? And so?
ALLMERS: So I went my own way down a side valley. Because I thought that that way I could make it across the hills and between the peaks. And down again to the other side of the lake.
RITA: Oh, don’t tell me you got lost, Alfred!
ALLMERS: Yes, I took a wrong turn. Because there was no path or track. And I walked all day. And all the following night too. Until I thought I’d never find my way to the human world again.
RITA: Not come home to us? Oh, then I know that your thoughts must have flown here.
ALLMERS: No – they did not.
RITA: Not?
ALLMERS: No. It was so strange. Both you and Eyolf had drawn so far, far away from me, I felt. And so had Asta.
RITA: So what were you thinking about?
ALLMERS: I didn’t think. I kept on walking, dragging myself along the precipices – and savouring the peaceful, comforting sense of death.
RITA [leaping to her feet]: Oh, the horror of it, don’t speak of it so!
ALLMERS: That’s how I felt. Absolutely no fear. I had the sense that death and I were walking along together like two good travelling companions.3 It seemed so reasonable – so simple, the whole thing, or so I thought at the time. In my family folk don’t usually live to be very old –
RITA: Oh, enough of such talk, Alfred! You came through it all safe and sound, after all.
ALLMERS: Yes; all at once I was there. On the other side of the lake.
RITA: That was a night of terror for you, Alfred. But now that it’s behind you, you won’t admit it to yourself.
ALLMERS: That night raised me to resolution. And so it was that I turned around and walked straight home. To Eyolf.
RITA [softly]: Too late.
ALLMERS: Yes. And then – when my companion came and took him –. Then horror rose up from him. From everything. From all that – which, even so, we daren’t leave behind. So earthbound are we both, Rita.
RITA [her face brightening slightly]: Yes, isn’t that so! You too! [Coming closer] Oh, let’s just live our life together for as long as we can!
ALLMERS [with a shrug]: Live our life, yes! And have nothing with which to fill that life. Desolation and emptiness all around.4 No matter where I look.
RITA [fearfully]: Oh, sooner or later you’ll leave me, Alfred! I sense it! And I can see it in you too! You will leave me!
ALLMERS: With my travelling companion, you mean?
RITA: No, I mean something worse than that. You’ll leave me of your own free will. Because you feel that it’s only here, with me, that you have nothing to live for. Answer me! Isn’t that what you think?
ALLMERS [eyeing her steadily]: And what if I did think that –?
Sounds of uproar, voices raised in anger and agitation are heard far below.
ALLMERS walks over to the railing.
RITA: What’s that? [Crying out] Oh, they’ve found him, you’ll see!
ALLMERS: He’ll never be found.
RITA: Well, what can it be then?
ALLMERS [coming back towards her]: Just a brawl – as usual.
RITA: Down on the shore?
ALLMERS: Yes, that whole shanty town on the shore ought to be cleared away. The men have just come home. Drunk, as always. Beating the children. Hear those lads howling! And the women screaming for help for them –
RITA: Yes, shouldn’t we send someone down to help them?
ALLMERS [bitter and angry]: Help the ones who didn’t help Eyolf! No, let them perish – as they left Eyolf to perish!
RITA: Oh, you mustn’t talk like that, Alfred! Mustn’t think like that!
ALLMERS: I can’t think any other way. All those old shacks ought to be torn down.
RITA: And what will become of all those needy people then?
ALLMERS: They’ll have to betake themselves elsewhere.
RITA: And the children?
ALLMERS: Does it really matter that much where they perish?
RITA [quietly, reproachfully]: You’re forcing yourself to be this callous, Alfred.
ALLMERS [angrily]: From now on it is my right to be callous! And my duty too!
RITA: Your duty?
ALLMERS: My duty to Eyolf. He mustn’t go unavenged. That’s it, Rita! I’m telling you! Think this matter over. Have that whole shanty town down there razed to the ground – once I’m gone.
RITA [eyeing him intently]: Once you’re gone?
ALLMERS: Yes, because then at least you’ll have something with which to fill your life. And that you need to have.
RITA [firmly and resolutely]: You’re right. I do. But can you guess what I’m going to do – once you’re gone?
ALLMERS: No, what will you do?
RITA [slowly, decisively]: As soon as you leave me I’ll go down to the shore and bring all those wretched needy children up here to our house. All those rude, rough boys –
ALLMERS: What will you do with them here?
RITA: I’ll take them to me.
ALLMERS: You will?
RITA: Yes, I will. From the day you leave this is where they’ll be, all of them – as if they were my own.
ALLMERS [outraged]: In our little Eyolf’s place!
RITA: Yes, in our little Eyolf’s place. They’ll live in Eyolf’s rooms. They’ll read his books. Play with his toys. They’ll take it in turns to sit on his chair at the table.
ALLMERS: But this sounds like utter madness! I don’t know of anyone in the world less suited to such a task than you.
RITA: Then I’ll have to teach myself how to do it. Train myself. Practise.
ALLMERS: If this is your earnest intent – all that you say, then some change must have occurred in you.
RITA: And so there has, Alfred. And you brought it about. You’ve created an empty space inside me. And this I have to try to fill with something. Something resembling love of a sort.
ALLMERS [stands for a moment deep in thought; looks at her]: We haven’t actually done much for those needy people down there.
RITA: We’ve done nothing for them.
ALLMERS: Scarcely even thought of them.
RITA: Never thought of them with fellow feeling.
ALLMERS: Us, with our ‘gold and green forests’ –
RITA: Our hands were closed to them. And our hearts closed too.
ALLMERS [nodding]: So maybe it’s only reasonable after all, that they didn’t risk their lives to save little Eyolf.
RITA [softly]: Think about it, Alfred. Are you so sure that – that even we would have dared to?
ALLMERS [uneasily, dismissively]: No, never doubt that, Rita!
RITA: Oh, but we’re earthly beings, Alfred.
ALLMERS: What do you actually imagine yourself doing for all those wretched children?
RITA: I suppose I’ll try to see if I can ease – and enrich their lot in life.
ALLMERS: If you can do that then Eyolf will not have been born in vain.
RITA: And not taken from us in vain either.
ALLMERS [regarding her steadily]: Be clear about one thing, Rita. It’s not love that drives you to do this.
RITA: No, it’s not. Not yet, anyway.
ALLMERS: So what exactly is it then?
RITA [somewhat evasively]: You know how you’ve so often talked to Asta about human responsibility –
ALLMERS: About my book, which you hated.
RITA: I still hate that book. But I used to listen to what you said. And now I’m going to try to take that further myself. In my own way.
ALLMERS [shaking his head]: Not on account of that unfinished book –
RITA: No, I have another reason too.
ALLMERS: What’s that?
RITA [softly, smiling sadly]: I want to win favour with those big wide-open eyes, you see.
ALLMERS [impressed, eyes fixed on her]: Perhaps I could join you in that? And help you, Rita?
RITA: Would you like to?
ALLMERS: Yes – if I only knew that I could.
RITA [hesitantly]: But then you would have to stay here.
ALLMERS [softly]: Let’s try to see whether it would work.
RITA [barely audible]: Let’s do that, Alfred.
Both fall silent. Then ALLMERS walks over to the flagpole and runs the flag up to the very top.
RITA stands by the summerhouse, quietly watching him.
ALLMERS [coming back down to her]: We have a hard day’s work ahead of us, Rita.
RITA: Oh, you’ll see – the peace of the Sabbath will descend upon us now and again.
ALLMERS [quietly, deeply moved]: Then we’ll sense the presence of the spirits perhaps.
RITA [in a whisper]: The spirits?
ALLMERS [as before]: Yes. Then perhaps they’ll be around us – those whom we’ve lost.
RITA [nods slowly]: Our little Eyolf. And your big Eyolf too.
ALLMERS [gazing into space]: And maybe, now and then – on life’s road – we’ll even catch a glimpse of them.
RITA: Where should we look, Alfred –?
ALLMERS [eyes on her]: Upwards.
RITA: Yes, yes – upwards.
ALLMERS: Upwards – to the peaks. To the stars. To the great stillness.
RITA [giving him her hand]: Thank you!