by Henrik Ibsen

Setting

A comfortable middle-class drawing room. NORA enters, removing her coat, humming softly. TORVALD can be heard from his study.

NORA: (calling out cheerfully) Torvald, darling! I’m home from town!

TORVALD: (from offstage) My little lark is back! Did my little spendthrift buy out all the shops?

NORA: (laughing, but with a slight edge) Oh, just a few things for Christmas. Nothing extravagant.

(TORVALD enters, approaching with patronizing affection)

TORVALD: Come now, Nora. Show me what my little squirrel has hidden in her pockets.

NORA: (playfully resisting, but growing tense) Torvald, please. Can’t a wife have a few secrets?

TORVALD: Secrets? My dear child, we have no secrets between us. A wife should be transparent as glass to her husband.

(Long pause. NORA’s demeanor begins to shift)

NORA: Transparent… yes. Like a doll in a glass case.

TORVALD: What’s that, my sweet?

NORA: Nothing. Just… Torvald, do you remember when we were first married? You used to call me your “doll-wife.”

TORVALD: (laughing) And so you are! My beautiful little doll. What’s brought this on?

NORA: I’ve been thinking. All these years, I’ve been your doll. Before that, I was Papa’s doll. And I’ve never had a single thought that wasn’t yours or his.

TORVALD: Nora, what nonsense! You’re overwrought.

NORA: (with growing strength) Am I? Tell me, Torvald, what is my favorite color?

TORVALD: Why… blue, I should think.

NORA: No. What do I believe about religion?

TORVALD: You believe what I believe, naturally.

NORA: (quietly) Naturally. And what are my dreams, my ambitions?

TORVALD: To be a good wife and mother, of course.

(NORA moves away from him, her voice becoming stronger)

NORA: You see? You know your doll, but you don’t know me. Because there is no me. There’s only what you’ve dressed me up to be.

TORVALD: Nora, you’re frightening me. This isn’t like you.

NORA: No, it isn’t like the me you created. But perhaps it’s like the me I was meant to be.

(She begins moving around the room, as if seeing it for the first time)

NORA: This house has been like a playroom. You’ve played with me just as the children play with their dolls. And I’ve played with the children. That’s been our marriage, Torvald.

TORVALD: But we love each other!

NORA: Do we? Or do you love your idea of me? And I… I’ve loved being loved, even if it meant disappearing.

(She picks up her coat)

TORVALD: Where are you going?

NORA: I don’t know yet. But I know I can’t stay here.

TORVALD: You can’t leave! Think of your duties—to me, to the children!

NORA: I have other duties. Duties to myself. I must learn to stand alone, to think for myself, to discover who I am when I’m not being what someone else wants me to be.

TORVALD: This is madness! No wife leaves her husband and children!

NORA: (with quiet determination) Then I suppose I must be the first. I’ve lived my whole life performing tricks for men who threw me treats and called it love. But I’m not a doll, Torvald. I’m a human being.

(She moves toward the door)

TORVALD: If you leave, you can never come back!

NORA: (pausing) I know. But staying would mean never truly living.

(She opens the door, then turns back one last time)

NORA: Perhaps someday, when I’ve found myself, and you’ve learned to see me as I really am… perhaps then we could meet as equals. As two human beings. Not as master and doll.

(She exits. The sound of a door closing echoes through the theater)

TORVALD: (alone, calling after her) Nora! NORA!

(He sinks into a chair as the lights fade)

END OF READING

This adaptation captures the revolutionary spirit of Ibsen’s 1879 masterpiece, which shocked audiences by depicting a woman choosing self-discovery over societal expectations. The original play’s themes of individual freedom, the nature of marriage, and women’s rights remain as relevant today as they were nearly 150 years ago.