The Lady from the Sea

  First published in this version in 2003 by Oberon Books Ltd

  Electronic edition published in 2012

  Oberon Books Ltd

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  Reprinted in this version in 2003.

  Copyright version © Pam Gems 2003

  Pam Gems is hereby identified as author of this version in accordance with section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The author has asserted her moral rights.

  All rights whatsoever in this play are strictly reserved and application for performance etc. should be made before commencement of rehearsal to United Agents, 12-26 Lexington Street, London, W1F 0LE ([email protected]). No performance may be given unless a licence has been obtained, and no alterations may be made in the title or the text of the play without the author’s prior written consent.

  You may not copy, store, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or binding or by any means (print, electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  PB ISBN: 978-1-84002-207-0

  E ISBN: 978-1-8494-3838-4

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  eBook conversion by Replika Press PVT Ltd, India.

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  Contents

  Characters

  Act One

  Act Two

  Act Three

  Act Four

  Act Five

  Characters

  DOCTOR WANGEL

  the local doctor

  ELLIDA

  his second wife

  BOLETTE

  daughter by his first wife

  HILDE

  daughter by his first wife

  ARNHOLM

  a teacher

  LYNGSTRAND

  BALLESTED

  STRANGER

  The action takes place during summer in a small town

  by a fjord in Northern Norway.

  This version of The Lady from the Sea was first performed at Almeida Theatre, London on 8 May 2003, with the following cast:

  WANGEL, John Bowe

  ELLIDA, Natasha Richardson

  BOLETTE, Claudie Blakley

  HILDE, Louisa Clein

  ARNHOLM, Tim McInnerny

  LYNGSTRAND, Benedict Cumberbatch

  BALLESTED, Geoffrey Hutchings

  STRANGER, Eoin McCarthy

  Director, Trevor Nunn

  Design, Rob Howell

  Lighting, Hugh Vanstone

  Music, Shaun Davey

  Sound, John Leonard

  ACT ONE

  The garden of DOCTOR WANGEL. A flagstaff, and a gate to the lane. Beyond is the fjord and the mountains. A clear summer’s day. Under the flagstaff BALLESTED, middle-aged in an old velvet jacket and wideawake hat, is untangling the flagline, his easel and painting things nearby. As he gets into a muddle a young woman, BOLETTE, comes out onto the verandah with a large bowl of flowers which she puts on a table.

  BOLETTE: (Calls.) Can you manage?

  BALLESTED: I’m all right. (He nods at the flowers.) Visitors, eh?

  BOLETTE: Oh, no – I mean, yes. Doctor Arnholm…he arrived last night.

  BALLESTED: (Of the flag.) I wondered what all the fuss was about. He’s certainly getting a welcome.

  BOLETTE goes back indoors.

  HANS LYNGSTRAND enters from the right. He is young, neatly but poorly dressed. He looks frail. Attracted by the painting on the easel, he looks over the hedge.

  LYNGSTRAND: Good morning.

  BALLESTED: Morning. (Hoists the flag.) There we are, up you go! Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure –

  LYNGSTRAND: (Gestures to the painting.) Did you do that?

  BALLESTED: Yes. Any objection?

  LYNGSTRAND: Not at all. May I?

  BALLESTED waves him in.

  LYNGSTRAND inspects the painting.

  BALLESTED: (Picks up his brush to continue.) Not a lot to see as yet. I’m working on the stretch of water between the islands.

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes…

  BALLESTED: There’ll be a sitting figure over here but I haven’t started on that – not so easy to find a model round here.

  LYNGSTRAND: A figure. I see.

  BALLESTED: Dying.

  LYNGSTRAND: I’m sorry?

  BALLESTED: She’s dying. On the rock in the foreground.

  LYNGSTRAND: Oh. Why?

  BALLESTED: Trapped! Course you can’t see her yet but when I’ve – she’ll be caught here in the fjord, away from the sea. I’m doing all this water brown and brackish where she’s gasping her last breath.

  LYNGSTRAND: Oh.

  BALLESTED: It was the lady in the house gave me the idea.

  LYNGSTRAND: Really? What are you going to call it?

  BALLESTED: ‘The Mermaid’s End.’ What do you think?

  LYNGSTRAND: Well…it should make a very good composition.

  BALLESTED: In the same line are you?

  LYNGSTRAND: Not exactly. I’m going to be a sculptor. Hans Lyngstrand.

  BALLESTED: A sculptor, eh? Very nice. I’ve seen you around, haven’t I? How long have you been here?

  LYNGSTRAND: Just a fortnight. I’d like to try and stay the whole summer.

  BALLESTED: For the swimming, eh?

  LYNGSTRAND: I want to build up my strength.

  BALLESTED: Why, have you been poorly?

  LYNGSTRAND: Nothing to worry about. A little short of breath, that’s all.

  BALLESTED: You need a good physician.

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes, I’d like to try Dr Wangel if that’s possible.

  BALLESTED: Good idea – ah, there you are! Another steamer full of people! Our little town’s getting swamped.

  LYNGSTRAND: You’re a local?

  BALLESTED: Not exactly, but I’ve been here long enough to be part of the scenery.

  LYNGSTRAND: How long would that be?

  BALLESTED: Eighteen years. I was a scene painter – well, design, that sort of thing. Came here with a theatre company. The money ran out…all scattered to the four winds now.

  LYNGSTRAND: Except you?

  BALLESTED: Except me. I’m accli…acclimatised. (He stumbles over the word, mispronouncing it.)

  BOLETTE brings a rocking chair out onto the verandah.

  BOLETTE: (Calls back to conservatory.) Hilde, see if you can find the footstool – the embroidered one – for Father.

  LYNGSTRAND: Good morning, Miss Wangel.

  BOLETTE: Oh…good morning, Mr Lyngstrand…I must just… (Goes.)

  BALLESTED: You know them, then? The family?

  LYNGSTRAND: We’ve met once or twice. Mrs Wangel said I might call.

  BALLESTED: Further the acquaintance, as they say.

  LYNGSTRAND: I’ve been trying to think of an excuse.

  BALLESTED: I shouldn’t worry about that…just – dammit, she’s in already! I must get down to the pier in case somebody needs a haircut.

  LYNGSTRAND: Haircut?

  BALLESTED: Acclimatomise, my son! Anything you need in the hairdressing line…pomade, cologne…just ask for Ballested
, the Dancing Master.

  LYNGSTRAND: Dancing Master?

  BALLESTED: Or Leader of the Brass Band, that’ll find me and all. We’re doing a concert up at the Look-Out tonight – goodbye – goodbye. (Takes his painting things and goes.)

  HILDE enters with footstool, BOLETTE with more flowers.

  LYNGSTRAND lifts his hat.

  HILDE: (Ignoring his greeting.) He’s actually ventured inside the gate today.

  LYNGSTRAND: I…took the liberty.

  HILDE: Been out for a walk?

  LYNGSTRAND: No, actually I –

  HILDE: Swimming?

  LYNGSTRAND: Yes…a little. I saw your mother –

  HILDE: (Cold.) Who?

  LYNGSTRAND: Your mother. She was going into her bathing hut.

  HILDE: (Places footstool, rises.) Was she really!

  BOLETTE: You didn’t see Father out on the fjord?

  LYNGSTRAND: There was a little boat, yes. It was just tying up.

  BOLETTE: That’ll be him. He went to see some patients.

  LYNGSTRAND: The flowers are beautiful.

  BOLETTE: Aren’t they?

  LYNGSTRAND: So many…is it a celebration?

  HILDE claps sarcastically.

  BOLETTE: Ssh!

  LYNGSTRAND: Not your father’s birthday?

  HILDE: (Snarls.) No. Mother’s.

  LYNGSTRAND: Really? Your mother’s? Your mother’s birthday?

  BOLETTE: Hilde, stop it.

  HILDE: What? (To LYNGSTRAND.) I should think you’re due back at the hotel for your grand luncheon.

  LYNGSTRAND: Well, no…actually I’m not there any more.

  HILDE: Oh?

  LYNGSTRAND: I’m afraid it cost too much.

  HILDE: Where are you, then?

  LYNGSTRAND: Mrs Jensen’s.

  HILDE: Which Mrs Jensen?

  LYNGSTRAND: Mrs Jensen the midwife.

  HILDE: (Out of face.) Excuse me, Mr Lyngstrand, I have to see to –

  LYNGSTRAND: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.

  HILDE: Said what?

  LYNGSTRAND: About the mid – what I just said. I shouldn’t have used that word.

  HILDE: I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.

  LYNGSTRAND: No, no – of course not. Well, I must…I must say goodbye for…for…

  BOLETTE: Goodbye, Mr Lyngstrand. Forgive us for now, but do come over again when you have time. Come and see Father and…and the rest of us.

  LYNGSTRAND: Thank you, I’d like that very much. (He goes.)

  HILDE: (Mutters.) Adieu, Monsieur…and give my love to old Mother Jensen!

  BOLETTE: Hilde! You are a little beast – he could have heard you.

  HILDE: What do I care!

  BOLETTE: Father…

  DR WANGEL arrives at the garden gate.

  WANGEL: Ah, here you are.

  BOLETTE: You’re back!

  HILDE: All finished?

  WANGEL: A few things in the surgery. Has Dr Arnholm called?

  HILDE: No.

  BOLETTE: We went down to the hotel. They said he’d arrived.

  HILDE: Last night.

  WANGEL: You haven’t seen him yet?

  BOLETTE: He’ll come up, I daresay.

  WANGEL: Good.

  HILDE: Father, look!

  WANGEL: (Looks at the flowers on the verandah.) Splendid!

  BOLETTE: Haven’t we made it look pretty?

  WANGEL: Delightful. Is – is everyone at home?

  BOLETTE: No.

  HILDE: She’s gone out.

  BOLETTE: (Quietly.) Mother went for a bathe.

  WANGEL: (Cuddles BOLETTE, then, awkwardly.) Look…ah…my dears, are you keeping this up all day – the flag…flowers?

  HILDE: Of course we are!

  WANGEL: Don’t you think…?

  BOLETTE: (Playful.) It’s for Dr Arnholm! I mean – when an old friend of the family comes to pay his respects –

  HILDE: He was Bolette’s tutor!

  WANGEL: Now, now. Of course you want to keep her memory alive. Still, perhaps – (He gives HILDE his bag.) – take this down to the surgery for me, mm? Look – girls – all I’m saying is…I mean… every year? Well…if you must.

  HILDE: Look, somebody’s coming. It must be your tutor.

  BOLETTE: That’s not him, it can’t be, he’s far too old.

  WANGEL: It is him, you know.

  BOLETTE: So it is!

  ARNHOLM comes through the gate.

  WANGEL: My dear Arnholm, I’m delighted to see you…welcome back!

  ARNHOLM: Thank you, Doctor – thank you. (They shake hands.) The children?! I wouldn’t have known you!

  WANGEL: I daresay not.

  ARNHOLM: Bolette, I would have known…yes, I’d know Bolette.

  WANGEL: Really? After nine years? You’ll see some changes here.

  ARNHOLM: (Looks around.) To me it’s just the same. The trees are taller – oh…an arbour!

  WANGEL: I didn’t just mean the look of things…

  ARNHOLM: Two eligible, grown-up daughters now!

  WANGEL: Well, one.

  HILDE: Father!

  WANGEL: We’ll sit out here shall we?

  ARNHOLM: Thank you.

  WANGEL: (They sit.) You look tired after all that travelling.

  ARNHOLM: Oh, it’s nothing, not now that I’m here.

  BOLETTE: (To WANGEL.) Shall I put some cold drinks in the conservatory…it’ll be too hot out here soon.

  WANGEL: Very nice – and a little brandy?

  BOLETTE: Brandy?

  WANGEL: In case someone feels like it.

  BOLETTE: Of course. Hilde, bring Father’s bag. (They go.)

  ARNHOLM: What a lovely girl she’s – they’ve grown into…

  WANGEL: They have, haven’t they?

  ARNHOLM: She’s amazing. Hilde too. But how are you, Doctor? Settled down for good?

  WANGEL: I think so. I was born and bred here, remember. And been very happy. For a few years. You knew her, Arnholm…my wife?

  ARNHOLM: Yes, indeed.

  WANGEL: Of course I am happy again, with my new wife.

  ARNHOLM: Have you been blessed again? With more – ?

  WANGEL: (Shakes his head.) No more children. We did have a little boy. Two – nearly three years ago.

  ARNHOLM: I didn’t know.

  WANGEL: We lost him at five months.

  ARNHOLM: (Pause.) Your wife is not at home?

  WANGEL: She’ll be here soon. She’s down at the fjord. Ellida likes to bathe every day during the good weather.

  ARNHOLM: She’s well, I trust?

  WANGEL: Oh, yes. A little trouble with her nerves now and then. The bathing helps. She feels well in the water.

  ARNHOLM: I remember.

  WANGEL: Of course. You knew Ellida when you were teaching out at Skjoldvik.

  ARNHOLM: I used to see her when I went out to the lighthouse to visit her father.

  WANGEL: It’s still a part of her, that life. They don’t understand it here, the locals. They call her The Lady from the Sea!

  ARNHOLM: Hah!

  WANGEL: You must talk to her about the old days. It will do her good.

  ARNHOLM: D’you think so?

  WANGEL: I’m sure of it.

  ELLIDA: (Offstage.) Wangel – Wangel is that you?

  WANGEL: (Rises.) I’m out here, my dear.

  ELLIDA enters. Her hair is wet.

  Enter the mermaid.

  ELLIDA: (Grabs his hand.) You’re back! When did you – ?

  WANGEL: A few minutes ago. Aren’t you going to greet an old friend?

  ELLIDA: Doctor Arnholm. I’m so sorry. Forgive me for not being at home –

  ARNHOLM: Oh, please, you mustn’t put yourself out for me.

  WANGEL: How was the water? Fresh?

  ELLIDA: Fresh water? In the fjord? The water here is dead…tainted.

  WANGEL: Tainted?

  ELLIDA: Infective. It gets into the bloodstream.

  WANGEL: (Laughs.
) Not a very good advertisement for a holiday town.

  ARNHOLM: Mrs Wangel has an affinity with open water.

  ELLIDA: (To ARNHOLM.) Look – flowers…in your honour.

  WANGEL: (Embarrassed.) Oh…well…

  ARNHOLM: These are for me?

  ELLIDA: We aren’t usually so honoured. Oh, the heat – it’s stifling!

  She crosses to the arbour.

  ARNHOLM: (Joining her.) I find the air wonderful here.

  ELLIDA: That’s because you’re used to the city and being suffocated.

  WANGEL: I must go down to the surgery. Ellida will look after you, I shan’t be long.

  ARNHOLM: No hurry, we’ll manage to pass the time.

  WANGEL: Of course! I’ll see you later. (Goes.)

  ELLIDA: (Brief pause.) It’s pleasant here, don’t you think?

  ARNHOLM: Very pleasant at the moment.

  ELLIDA: This is my arbour. It was my idea. Wangel had it made for me.

  ARNHOLM: Do you use it a lot?

  ELLIDA: For most of the day.

  ARNHOLM: You and the girls.

  ELLIDA: No. They use the verandah.

  ARNHOLM: What about the Doctor?

  ELLIDA: He comes and goes between us.

  ARNHOLM: And that suits you?

  ELLIDA: It suits us all. We can call across…when we have something to say.

  Pause.

  ARNHOLM: It’s been a long time.

  ELLIDA: Ten years.

  ARNHOLM: Remember how the Pastor on Skjoldvik used to call you the Pagan?

  ELLIDA: Because I was named for a ship…

  ARNHOLM: Instead of a good Christian name.

  Pause.

  ELLIDA: Well?

  ARNHOLM: Nothing. I’m surprised, that’s all. You as Mrs Wangel, married to the Doctor. Hard to believe.

  ELLIDA: When you knew me he was still married, the girl’s mother was alive.

  ARNHOLM: But even if…even if he wasn’t, if he hadn’t been…I still couldn’t imagine it.

  ELLIDA: Neither could I, then.

  ARNHOLM: He’s a good man.

  ELLIDA: Oh, yes!

  ARNHOLM: But for you – it’s hard to – how did it happen?

  ELLIDA: Oh, I couldn’t begin to explain. If I did you wouldn’t understand.

  ARNHOLM: Mmm. (Drops his voice.) You haven’t told him? About –

  ELLIDA: That you asked me to marry you? No, of course not.

  ARNHOLM: Forgive me, it could be embarrassing, that’s all.

  ELLIDA: I told him the truth.

  ARNHOLM: The truth?

  ELLIDA: That you were a dear man, and my very best friend out at Skjoldvik.