Ibsen Sequal

Michael Kadish
1012 words

(Man who has played Helmer comes out as a narrator, and no longer in character, down-stage-left, with the curtain down.)

Thank you. Thank you all. Now we promised you all a full day of Ibsen. An Enemy of the People and A Doll's House were nice, and you all know that we are bringing on Ghosts within the half hour, but first we would like to show you a connection between the previous and the next play. As you may or may not know, the final scene from A Doll's House has been changed a number of times. Here, we have done the accepted original piece where I (sniffles and mimes a tear), or Helmer, rather, gets left at the end. Ibsen, a struggling playwright, saw his play become a huge success. Germany's government paid a premium to anybody related to the theatre. They would have paid him a fortune to put it on, but she couldn't leave him at the end. So Mr. Ibsen got out the old eraser and the Germans accepted. (Lights dim, and women enters stage left, hopefully Nora, but any remotely similar woman will do)

Gutan tag, Torvold! That does it. I'm leaving you!

(Overly dramatic) I love you. How can you leave me?

You do not care for me! I mean nothing to you.

How can you leave me? (Pulls Nora over to the side of the stage by her hair.) How can you leave them, your dear sweet children?

(Melodramatically, putting the back of her wrist over her forehead) It will hurt me but I must stay here. For them. (Exits stage right head down)

(bows) Thank you, thank you. Not as bad as Norway though In Britain, however, they were a little less barbaric. ("God Save the Queen" starts to play.)

(Reenters stage right) Cheerio, Torvold, I'm leaving you.

You can't

I must! I...(Helmer takes out a macaroon and stuffs it in Nora's mouth. She swallows it) Ahhh, the sweet bliss. (Exits stage left)

(Royal British accent) Long live the king! Whatever, that'll show ol' Victoria a thing or two. Anyway, it has long been assumed that our next play, Ghosts, was written in response to people angered reactions at Nora's need to leave. He then wrote this play to show what would happen if a woman did not step forth when something was wrong. This was assumed true without any proof until now. We actually found this scene in Ibsen's house. We were not sure whether or not to act it out. His plays were so fanatically successful- we're putting on three in one night nearly one hundred years after they were written. The world's changed since these plays were written Germany, Italy, and Noreway are all much lower in power but the world has not changed that much. So we figured, the public now has a right to know. We now present the unnamed play that connects A Doll's House with Ghosts.

(Is much grayer than she was in A Doll's House and has some extra pounds in her shirt, and more wrinkles on her face.) OK, son. Where did you put it?

(Son is about seventeen.) What do you want, Mommy?

That Christmas present that was lying out here. Where is it?

It's under the tree, Mommy.

Whatever. How many presents did you get this year?

I don't know. Why?

It's been a long time since I've gotten one.

Mommy, buy yourself something. We're rich.

We're rich. I've had three husbands. I'm not rich. I've had my longings fulfilled. Somebody's playing a cruel joke on me. (Sits down, puts hands over her face, and begins to cry.)

It's not so bad.

Of course not. My first husband died after I left him. There are a couple of things I remember about him. I remember I used to be able to dance. I remember I used to have kids. They were nice, sweet kids, who I'm not allowed to see anymore. I'm a bad influence on them. I also remember he told me that when children aren't raised by strong parents, they turn into delinquents. (Nora slaps her son on the back of the head. He shows no reaction.) And I remember my wish of being told I had inherited money. That wish has been fulfilled--way too many times.

Then I married your real father. He was nothing but a dirty old man. He said he loved me, but I never felt the same towards him. I just needed the security he offered. He died eight months before you were born.

When you were still an infant, I married Stefan Alving. At least he agreed you could have his name. That was the best thing he did for me when he was still alive. When he died I got another inheritance. So yes, we're rich.

Don't be childish, though. Wealth doesn't give gifts.

I think I'm in love.

Don't be ridiculous. Let me tell you something. No woman falls in love with a rich man, especially a jerk like you. All a girl would fall in love with is your money. It took me a while to figure that one out. I actually thought I loved all my husbands. It wasn't until your since your stepfather died in the fire while trying to rescue the schoolchildren, that I realized how little I cared for any of them. All I wanted was their money.

Not her, Mom. She really does love me.

Excuse me. You mean to tell me that if you marry this, this,

Future Mrs. Alving.

Whatever. Then you'll stop having these flings?

Of course. I could never cheat on her. Goodbye. (He exits.)