ACT ONE
A large, elegant, well-furnished, contemporary (1890) drawing room: a sofa, a round table and chairs, an armchair and footstool by a large porcelain stove, an upright piano. Fine carpets. Itâs a room clearly intended for entertaining. A smaller room lies beyond, where a large portrait of a good-looking military officer can be seen. There are fresh flowers in vases and bouquets on tables all over the room.
Morning light floods through French windows. Itâs autumn.
A small woman in her mid-sixties, MISS TESMAN, tiptoes into the room. Sheâs wearing a hat and carrying a parasol. Sheâs followed by a plump middle-aged woman, BERTHE, the maid, who is carrying a bunch of flowers.
MISS TESMAN (whispering). Well . . . I donât think theyâre up yet.
BERTHE (whispering). âSâwhat I said. Still, the boat was late waân it and â God â the stuff she wanted to unpack before sheâd go to bed.
MISS TESMAN. Well, letâs have some fresh air to welcome them.
She opens the French windows. BERTHE looks to her for advice, shrugs and puts the flowers on the piano.
BERTHE (in tears). I donât know where to put nothing.
MISS TESMAN. Berthe . . . It broke my heart to lose you.
BERTHE. I worked for you and your sister for . . .
MISS TESMAN. I know, dear, but thereâs no alternative. George needs you, he must have you, youâve been looking after him since he was little.
BERTHE. What with poor Miss Rena being sick â she canât do for herself at all . . .
MISS TESMAN. Oh, Iâll manage.
BERTHE. . . . and I might not be up to scratch for Georgieâs wife, I mean for Miss Hedda, Mrs Tesman, I mean . . .
MRS ELVSTED. At the beginning thereâs bound â
BERTHE. . . . she can be quite mardy, Iâve heard.
MISS TESMAN. Well, sheâs a generalâs daughter, sheâs used to fine things and things just so. That black riding dress, you remember . . . She used to ride out with her father â
BERTHE. With a feather in her hat like the Queen of Sheba. Never thought Georgieâd â
MISS TESMAN. Berthe, you must call him âDoctorâ now.
BERTHE. Doctor. Aye. She said that last night. Just as soon as she stepped in the door.
MISS TESMAN. They made him a doctor in Germany. âIâm Doctor Tesman now, Aunt Juju!â he told me when he came down the gangway.
BERTHE. He could be whatever he wanted. Mind, I never had him for a medical man, too dainty for that . . .
MISS TESMAN. No no, heâs not that sort of doctor, Lord no. But he might have an even more important title soon . . .
BERTHE. Whatâs that, then?
MISS TESMAN (smiling, she puts her finger to her lips). Mum. If only my sweet brother could have lived to see â (She stops.) Berthe?
BERTHE. Miss Juju?
MISS TESMAN. What have you done?
BERTHE. Miss Juju?
MISS TESMAN. Youâve taken the covers off the furniture.
BERTHE. Madam said I should. Said she couldnât be doing with covers on furniture.
MISS TESMAN. But they canât be going to use this room for every day . . .
BERTHE. Madam is. Georgie â the Doctor â didnât say.
GEORGE TESMAN comes into the back room holding an empty, open suitcase. Heâs a young-looking 33, round-faced, glasses, bearded, a little plump, casually dressed.
MISS TESMAN. Good morning, George.
TESMAN. Aunt Juju. Youâre so early and you must be so tired.
MISS TESMAN. I had to see you settled in . . .
TESMAN. And all the way from the port last night, there and back, no?
MISS TESMAN. Itâs good for me.
TESMAN. We were so sorry we couldnât take you in the carriage . . .
MISS TESMAN. Oh, goodness, the Judge looked after me, he saw me home.
TESMAN. Heddaâs bags were . . .
MISS TESMAN. What a mountain! Iâve never seen such a . . . mountain.
BERTHE. Shall I help Madam?
TESMAN. No, youâre not to disturb her. Sheâll ring if she wants you.
BERTHE starts to go.
Oh, take this will you, Berthe?
BERTHE. Iâll put it in the attic.
BERTHE goes out.
TESMAN. Amazing, Aunt Juju, that case was crammed with papers. Incredible, what I found. The archives, you know, in the museums. Notes, documents â things people didnât know existed, I even found â
MISS TESMAN. You didnât waste your time on your honeymoon.
TESMAN. Not a moment. Oh Aunt Juju, do take your hat off. Here, let me, yes?
MISS TESMAN (as he takes the hat off). Dear Georgie . . . itâs like being at home.
TESMAN. Lovely hat, Aunt Juju.
MISS TESMAN. Itâs for Hedda.
TESMAN. Hedda?
MISS TESMAN. So she wonât be ashamed of me if weâre ever walking together.
TESMAN (stroking her cheek). Aunt Juju, youâre a marvel. Letâs chat before Hedda appears.
He puts the hat down on an armchair. She puts her parasol in the corner of the sofa. She takes both his hands in hers and they sit side by side.
MISS TESMAN. Dear Georgie, youâre the living image of my dear brother. I feel safe now, itâs such a blessing to have you back with us.
TESMAN. It is for me, youâre my family, Aunt Juju, you and Aunt Rena.
MISS TESMAN. And I know youâll go on caring for us, even, well . . .
TESMAN. Sheâs no better?
MISS TESMAN (tearful). Sheâs . . . I hope she lasts longer, I donât know what Iâd do without her now I havenât got you to look after.
TESMAN (patting her back). Youâll always have me.
MISS TESMAN (pulling herself together). No, youâve got a w...