Libri di narrativa e argomenti correlati
Opere di narrativa e argomenti correlati
A Doll's House. E-book. Formato Mobipocket Henrik Ibsen - Pubme, 2015 -
Helmer (calls out from his room). Is that my little lark twittering out there?Nora (busy opening some of the parcels). Yes, it is!Helmer. Is it my little squirrel bustling about?Nora. Yes!Helmer. When did my squirrel come home?Nora. Just now. (Puts the bag of macaroons into her pocket and wipes her mouth.) Come in here, Torvald, and see what I have bought.Helmer. Don't disturb me. (A little later, he opens the door and looks into the room, pen in hand.) Bought, did you say? All these things? Has my little spendthrift been wasting money again?Nora. Yes, but, Torvald, this year we really can let ourselves go a little. This is the first Christmas that we have not needed to economize.Helmer. Still, you know, we can't spend money recklessly.Nora. Yes, Torvald, we may be a wee bit more reckless now, mayn't we? Just a tiny wee bit! You are going to have a big salary and earn lots and lots of money.Helmer. Yes, after the New Year; but then it will be a whole quarter before the salary is due.Nora. Pooh! we can borrow till then.
The lady from the sea. E-book. Formato Mobipocket Henrik Ibsen - Pubme, 2015 -
Bolette. Well, Ballested, does it work smoothly?Ballested. Certainly, Miss Bolette, that's easy enough. May I ask—do you expect any visitors today?Bolette. Yes, we're expecting Mr. Arnholm this morning. He got to town in the night.Ballested. Arnholm? Wait a minute—wasn't Arnholm the man who was tutor here several years ago?Bolette. Yes, it is he.Ballested. Oh, really! Is he coming into these parts again?Bolette. That's why we want to have the flag up.Ballested. Well, that's reasonable enough.
When we dead awaken. E-book. Formato Mobipocket Henrik Ibsen - Pubme, 2015 -
"He wrote When We Dead Awaken," says Dr. Elias, "with such labour and such passionate agitation, so spasmodically and so feverishly, that those around him were almost alarmed. He must get on with it, he must get on! He seemed to hear the beating of dark pinions over his head. He seemed to feel the grim Visitant, who had accompanied Alfred Allmers on the mountain paths, already standing behind him with uplifted hand. His relatives are firmly convinced that he knew quite clearly that this would be his last play, that he was to write no more. And soon the blow fell."