RITA. Yes, in our little Eyolf"s place. They shall live in Eyolf"s rooms. They shall read his books. They shall play with his toys. They shall take it in turns to sit in his chair at table.
ALLMERS. But this is sheer madness in you! I do not know a creature in the world that is less fitted than you for anything of that sort.
RITA. Then I shall have to educate myself for it; to train myself; to discipline myself.
ALLMERS. If you are really in earnest about this--about all you say--then there must indeed be a change in you.
RITA. Yes, there is, Alfred--and for that I have you to thank. You have made an empty place within me; and I must try to fill it up with something--with something that is a little like love.
ALLMERS. [Stands for a moment lost in thought; then looks at her.] The truth is, we have not done much for the poor people down there.
RITA. We have done nothing for them.
ALLMERS. Scarcely even thought of them.
RITA. Never thought of them in sympathy.
ALLMERS. We, who had "the gold, and the green forests"--
RITA. Our hands were closed to them. And our hearts too.
ALLMERS. [Nods.] Then it was perhaps natural enough, after all, that they should not risk their lives to save little Eyolf.
RITA. [Softly.] Think, Alfred! Are you so certain that--that we would have risked ours?
ALLMERS. [With an uneasy gesture of repulsion.] You must never doubt that.
RITA. Oh, we are children of earth.
ALLMERS. What do you really think you can do with all these neglected children?
RITA. I suppose I must try if I cannot lighten and--and enn.o.ble their lot in life.
ALLMERS. If you can do that--then Eyolf was not born in vain.
RITA. Nor taken from us in vain, either.
ALLMERS. [Looking steadfastly at her.] Be quite clear about one thing, Rita--it is not love that is driving you to this.
RITA. No, it is not--at any rate, not yet.
ALLMERS. Well, then what is it?
RITA. [Half-evasively.] You have so often talked to Asta of human responsibility--
ALLMERS. Of the book that you hated.
RITA. I hate that book still. But I used to sit and listen to what you told her. And now I will try to continue it--in my own way.
ALLMERS. [Shaking his head.] It is not for the sake of that unfinished book--
RITA. No, I have another reason as well.
ALLMERS. What is that?
RITA. [Softly, with a melancholy smile.] I want to make my peace with the great, open eyes, you see.
ALLMERS. [Struck, fixing his eyes upon her.] Perhaps, I could join you in that? And help you, Rita?
RITA. Would you?
ALLMERS. Yes--if I were only sure I could.
RITA. [Hesitatingly.] But then you would have to remain here.
ALLMERS. [Softly.] Let us try if it could not be so.
RITA. [Almost inaudibly.] Yes, let us, Alfred.
[Both are silent. Then ALLMERS goes up to the flagstaff and hoists the flag to the top. RITA stands beside the summer-house and looks at him in silence.]
ALLMERS. [Coming forward again.] We have a heavy day of work before us, Rita.
RITA. You will see--that now and then a Sabbath peace will descend on us.
ALLMERS. [Quietly, with emotion.] Then, perhaps, we shall know that the spirits are with us.
RITA. [Whispering.] The spirits?
ALLMERS. [As before.] Yes, they will perhaps be around us--those whom we have lost.
RITA. [Nods slowly.] Our little Eyolf. And your big Eyolf, too.
ALLMERS. [Gazing straight before him.] Now and then, perhaps, we may still--on the way through life--have a little, pa.s.sing glimpse of them.
RITA. When, shall we look for them, Alfred?
ALLMERS. [Fixing his eyes upon her.] Upwards.
RITA. [Nods in approval.] Yes, yes--upwards.
ALLMERS. Upwards--towards the peaks. Towards the stars. And towards the great silence.
RITA. [Giving him her hand.] Thanks!