Chapter 101: Beatrice's Metamorphosis XIV

Limelight Collective will perform Hedda Gabler by Henrik Gibsen.

The play opens in the drawing room of a newlywed couple, George Tesman and Hedda Gabler. They have just returned from a six-month honeymoon.

Juliana Tesman, George's aunt, is delighted to see them and fusses over George, who is a scholar eagerly awaiting confirmation of a university position.

Hedda, however, is cold and indifferent, barely acknowledging Juliana's affection.

It becomes clear that Hedda married George not out of love but because he seemed like a secure choice. She is aristocratic and used to a more exciting life but now feels trapped in a dull marriage.

Their maid, Berte, brings news of a visitor, Thea Elvsted, an old acquaintance of Hedda's from school.

Nervous and distressed, Thea confesses that she has left her husband and come to town to look for Ejlert Løvborg, a writer and former lover of Hedda. Løvborg, once a reckless alcoholic, has changed his ways and written a brilliant book with Thea's help.

He is now George's academic rival, and if he remains successful, he might get the university position instead of George.

Thea, troubled, reveals to Hedda, "I was afraid… that he might take to his old ways again. That's why I came."

Hedda, ever the manipulator, smiles at Thea and slyly asks, "So, in a way, the book is like your child?"

Thea nods, unaware that Hedda is already plotting something dangerous.

Later that day, Judge Brack, a close associate of the Tesmans, visits Hedda. He enjoys playing power games with her, subtly hinting at his desire for a closer relationship.

When Hedda speaks of freedom, he smirks and reminds her, "One doesn't do that sort of thing in marriage, dear lady. A married woman isn't supposed to have any secrets."

Løvborg arrives and refuses George's invitation to a gathering at Judge Brack's house, claiming he has reformed.

However, Hedda, sensing his hidden weakness, manipulates him. She reminds him of his reckless past and how exciting life used to be. She hints that Thea doesn't truly trust him to stay sober.

At first, Løvborg resists, but Hedda presses further, offering him a drink.

"But surely you're not afraid of a glass of punch? A toast to your great future?" she taunts.

He finally gives in, much to Thea's dismay. Before Løvborg departs for the party, Hedda picks up one of George's pistols and fires it in the air, laughing.

"I'm just shooting for the fun of it, Judge."

Early the next morning, George returns home, delighted.

At the party, Løvborg got drunk, embarrassed himself, and lost his manuscript. Thea arrives, frantic, but Løvborg soon follows, utterly crushed. He confesses that the manuscript is gone, implying it was either lost or stolen.

Hedda, seeing her moment to manipulate, tells him to take control of his fate.

She hands him one of her pistols and suggests, "At least go out beautifully, Ejlert."

Once alone, Hedda retrieves his manuscript, George had found it and brought it home.

Instead of returning it, she burns it page by page in the fireplace, calling it "the child" of Løvborg and Thea.

Watching the pages turn to ash, she murmurs, "I am burning your child, Thea… your child and Ejlert's."

The next day, morning light fills the Tesman household, but the mood is heavy with unease. Hedda sits idly, staring at the empty fireplace where she burned Løvborg's manuscript the night before. She appears detached, yet restless.

George Tesman enters, still in shock over the events of the night. His voice trembles as he recounts the news.

"Løvborg is dead, Hedda. Shot himself in the chest."

Hedda straightens slightly, a flicker of excitement in her eyes.

"Did he… did he do it beautifully?" she asks, almost breathless with anticipation.

George hesitates, looking at Thea, who has been sitting quietly, pale and grief-stricken.

He finally explains, "No, Hedda… it was a terrible accident. He didn't even die at once. It happened in… in a brothel."

The disappointment is instant and sharp. Hedda's expression hardens.

The poetic, noble end she had envisioned for Løvborg has crumbled into something messy and pitiful.

"So that's how it all went… Not beautifully at all," she murmurs bitterly.

At that moment, Judge Brack arrives.

He exchanges pleasantries with George and Thea before smoothly taking a seat beside Hedda. There is a knowing look in his eyes. After a few moments, he leans in and lowers his voice.

"You do realize, dear Mrs. Hedda, that the pistol he used… belonged to you?"

Hedda's breath catches. She turns to him, her fingers tightening around the armrest.

"What are you implying, Judge?"

Brack smiles ever so slightly, speaking just loudly enough for her to hear.

"If the police investigate too thoroughly, they might trace it back to you. But… don't worry. I can keep it quiet."

He pauses, then adds with quiet amusement, "That is, if you allow me the privilege of handling things… discreetly."

The implication is clear. If Hedda does not submit to his influence, he has the power to ruin her. She understands at once: she has walked into a trap.

Her whole life, she has manipulated others, sought control, craved power, only to now find herself at the mercy of Brack.

"So I am in your power now, Judge," she says, forcing a smile but unable to hide the tremor in her voice.

"Exactly," he replies smoothly.

"And that, my dear, is precisely where I'd like you to stay."

Hedda's hands clench.

The walls around her are closing in.

She has lost everything, the power she had over Løvborg, the influence over Thea, even the future she had hoped to shape for herself. Now, she is trapped in a dull marriage with George, with a man like Brack holding a leash around her neck.

Nearby, George and Thea begin working on reconstructing Løvborg's lost manuscript. George, now completely drawn into the project, praises Thea.

"You have the notes, you remember his words. We can bring his work back to life!"

Thea's eyes light up with determination.

"Yes, we will do it together!"

Hedda watches them, realizing that even in death, Løvborg has left behind something lasting. But she, Hedda, has nothing. Her plans, her manipulations, her desperate attempts to shape her fate, none of them matter anymore.

A silence falls over the room as Hedda slowly rises. She moves toward the inner chambers, her face eerily calm.

"I am going to lie down for a bit," she says quietly.

Brack watches her go, a smirk tugging at his lips. Thea and George, absorbed in their work, barely notice.

Moments later, a gunshot rings out.

Thea gasps, dropping her notes. George jumps to his feet. Brack rushes toward the sound, flinging open the door. Inside, Hedda lies motionless, the pistol in her hand, a gunshot wound at her temple. Blood pools beneath her, staining the floor.

A stunned silence follows. Then, Brack, staring at the lifeless body, utters the final words of the play:

"People don't do such things!"

The curtain falls.

The stage plunged into darkness.

For a long moment, silence.

Then, applause filled the theater, loud and unending, shaking the walls.