ACT III.

[Hjalmar Ekdal’sstudio. It is morning; daylight streams in through the great panes of glass in the slanting roof; the curtain is drawn back.][Hjalmaris sitting at the table busy retouching a photograph; several other portraits are lying in front of him. After a little whileGinacomes in from the entrance-door in her hat and cloak; she has a covered basket on her arm.]

[Hjalmar Ekdal’sstudio. It is morning; daylight streams in through the great panes of glass in the slanting roof; the curtain is drawn back.]

[Hjalmaris sitting at the table busy retouching a photograph; several other portraits are lying in front of him. After a little whileGinacomes in from the entrance-door in her hat and cloak; she has a covered basket on her arm.]

Hjalmar.Are you back again, Gina?

Gina.Ah, yes! One must look sharp.

Puts the basket on a chair, and takes off her things.

Hjalmar.Did you look in at Gregers’?

Gina.Yes, I did. It’s in a lovely state; he’s managed to make a mess of it as soon as ever he got in.

Hjalmar.How so?

Gina.Why he wanted to do everything himself, he said. And so he wanted to light the stove too; and then he screwed down the register, so that the whole room was full of smoke. Uh! It stank like——

Hjalmar.Well, I never!

Gina.But the best’s to come; for then he wanted to put out the fire, and so he must needs empty the whole of his water-jug into the stove, so that the room’s like a pig-stye.

Hjalmar.That’s a nuisance.

Gina.I’ve sent the porter’s wife there now, to clean up after him, the pig. But the place’ll not be fit to be in till this afternoon.

Hjalmar.Where’s he gone then in the meantime?

Gina.He was going out, he said.

Hjalmar.I looked in a moment, too—after you’d gone out.

Gina.So I heard. Why,you’veasked him to lunch.

Hjalmar.Only to a little simple bit of early lunch, you know. It’s his first day—and we couldn’t very well avoid it. You’ve got something in the house, I suppose.

Gina.I’ll try and get something or other.

Hjalmar.But don’t get too little. For I fancy Relling and Molvik are coming up too. I happened to meet Relling on the stairs, you see, and so I couldn’t but——

Gina.Oh! Are we to have those two as well?

Hjalmar.Good Lord—two more or less’ll make no difference.

Ekdal(opening his door and looking in). I say, Hjalmar—— (noticingGina.) Oh! I see!

Gina.Do you want anything, grandfather?

Ekdal.Oh, no! It’s all right. H’m! (He goes in again.)

Gina(taking up the basket). Take care he doesn’t get out.

Hjalmar.Yes, yes, I’ll see to it—I say, Gina, a little bit of herring-salad’d be very nice—for Relling and Molvik were out on the spree again last night.

Gina.If only they don’t come up too soon for me I——

Hjalmar.Oh! they won’t; take your own time.

Gina.Very good, and you can go on doing a little work meantime.

Hjalmar.Why, I’m sitting here working! Why, I’m working as hard as ever I can!

Gina.Then you’ll have it off your hands, don’t you see.

She goes into the kitchen with the basket.Hjalmarsits a few minutes retouching the photograph; he does it lazily and with disrelish.

Ekdal(peeps in looking around the studio, and says in a whisper). Are you busy?

Hjalmar.Yes, I’m sitting here slaving over these portraits.

Ekdal.All right—God forbid—if you’re so busy, I’ll—h’m——

He goes in again; he leaves the door open.

Hjalmar(goes on for a while in silence; then he puts down the brush and goes to the door). Are you busy, father?

Ekdal(mutters from within). If you’re busy, I’m busy too. H’m!

Hjalmar.All right.

He returns to his work again.

Ekdal(after a little while, coming to the door again). H’m! You see, Hjalmar, I’m not so very busy after all.

Hjalmar.I thought you were sitting there writing.

Ekdal.Deuce take it. Can’t Graberg wait a day or two? It’s not a matter of life and death, I should say.

Hjalmar.No, and you’re not a slave either.

Ekdal.And then what has to be done in there?

Hjalmar.Yes, exactly. Perhaps you’d like to go in? Shall I open the door for you?

Ekdal.That wouldn’t be amiss.

Hjalmar(rising). For then we’d havethatoff our hands.

Ekdal.Exactly, it must be ready by to-morrow early. For itisto-morrow—— H’m?

Hjalmar.Of course, it’s to-morrow.

HjalmarandEkdalpush one-half of the door aside. The morning sun is shining in through the sky-lights; many pigeons are flying hither and thither, others are perched cooing on rafters; the hens cackle now and again, at the further end of the loft.

Hjalmar.Now then, get in, father.

Ekdal(going in). Aren’t you coming?

Hjalmar.Yes, d’you know—I almost think—(seeingGinaby the kitchen door). I?—no, no, I’ve no time, I must work—— This is how the mechanism works——

He pulls a string; a curtain falls from within, the lower part of which consists of an old sail, and the rest, the upper part of an out-spread fishing net. The floor of the loft is thus no longer visible.

Hjalmar(going to the table). That’s it; now, I suppose, I shall have a minute’s peace.

Gina.Is he in there on the rampage again?

Hjalmar.Wasn’t it better than if he’d gone down toMrs. Ericksen’s? (Sitting down.) Do you want anything? You said——

Gina.I only wanted to ask if you thought we could lay the cloth here?

Hjalmar.Yes, I suppose no one is coming so early——

Gina.No, I don’t expect anyone, except the two sweethearts, who want to be taken together.

Hjalmar.Why the devil couldn’t they be taken together some other day?

Gina.But, dear Ekdal, I arranged for them to come this afternoon, when you’re having your sleep.

Hjalmar.Oh, that’s all right. Yes, then we’ll lunch here.

Gina.Very well! But there’s no need to hurry to lay the cloth yet; you can use the table awhile yet.

Hjalmar.I should think you could see I am sitting here using the table all I can!

Gina.Then you’ll be free later, don’t you see.

She goes into the kitchen again. A short pause.

Ekdal(at the door of loft, the net behind). Hjalmar!

Hjalmar.Well?

Ekdal.Afraid we shall have to move the water-trough, after all.

Hjalmar.Why, that’s what I’ve said all along.

Ekdal.H’m—h’m—h’m!

Goes away from the door again.

Hjalmar(goes on working for a little while, then looks at the loft and half rises.Hedvigcomes in from the kitchen. Hurriedly sitting down again). What do you want?

Hedvig.I only wanted to come in to you, father.

Hjalmar(after a short pause). It seems to me you’ve come to poke your nose into things. Are you to keep watch, perhaps?

Hedvig.Oh, no! not at all!

Hjalmar.What’s mother doing in there now?

Hedvig.Oh! Mother’s in the thick of the herring-salad. (She goes up to the table.) Isn’t there any little thing I could help you with, father?

Hjalmar.Oh, no. It’s best I should do it all alone—as long as my strength holds out. There’s no need, Hedvig; if only your father keeps his health—then——

Hedvig.Oh no, father; youmustn’tsay such horrid things——

She walks about a little while, stands still by the open door, and looks into the loft.

Hjalmar.I say, what’s he doing now?

Hedvig.It’s surely a new path up to the water-trough.

Hjalmar.He’ll never be able to manage that alone! And yet I’m condemned to sit here——

Hedvig(going up to him). Give me the brush, father; I can do it.

Hjalmar.Oh, nonsense. You’d only spoil your eyes with it.

Hedvig.Not a bit! Come, give me the brush!

Hjalmar(rising). Well, yes, it won’t take more than a minute or two.

Hedvig.Tut! What does it matter? (Taking the brush.) That’s it. (Sitting down.) And I’ve got one here to copy from.

Hjalmar.But don’t spoil your eyes! Do you hear—Iwill not be answerable; you must take the responsibility upon yourself—I tell you that.

Hedvig(retouching). All right, I don’t mind.

Hjalmar.You’re very quick at it, Hedvig. Only a few minutes, you understand.

He squeezes past the curtain in the loft.Hedvigsits working.HjalmarandEkdalare heard discussing within.

Hjalmar(coming from behind the net). Hedvig, just hand me the pincers that are lying on the shelf. And the chisel (turning back). Now you’ll see father. But first let me show you what I mean.

Hedvigtakes out the tools asked for from the book-case and hands them in to him.

Hjalmar.That’s it. Thanks! I say, it was a good thing I came.

He goes away from the opening of the door; they are heard carpentering and talking within.Hedvigremains standing and looks at them. After a pause there is a knock at the entrance-door; she takes no notice of it.

Gregers(bareheaded and without a top coat; he enters and stands a little while by the door). H’m!

Hedvig(turning and going up to him). Good morning. Won’t you come in?

Gregers.Thank you (looks towards the loft). You seem to have workingmen in the house?

Hedvig.No, it’s only father and grandfather. I’ll go and tell them.

Gregers.No, no, don’t do that, I’d rather wait a little while.

He sits down on the sofa.

Hedvig.It’s so untidy here.

She is about to clear away the photographs.

Gregers.Oh! don’t trouble. Are they portraits that have to be finished?

Hedvig.Yes, they are; I was going to help father with them.

Gregers.Don’t let me prevent you.

Hedvig.Oh, no.

She moves the things towards her and sits down to work;Gregerswatches her for a while in silence.

Gregers.Did the wild duck sleep well last night?

Hedvig.Yes, thank you, I believe so.

Gregers(turning to the loft). It looks quite different in there by daylight from what it did in the moonshine.

Hedvig.Yes, it does change so. In the morning it looks different from the afternoon and when it rains it looks different than when it’s fine.

Gregers.Have you noticed it?

Hedvig.Yes, of course I have.

Gregers.Do you, too, like being in there with the wild duck?

Hedvig.Yes, whenever I can manage it I——

Gregers.But no doubt you’ve not much free time. I suppose you go to school.

Hedvig.No, not now; father’s afraid of me spoiling my eyes.

Gregers.Oh! then he reads with you himself.

Hedvig.Father’s promised to read with me, but he’s not had time for it yet.

Gregers.But is there no one else to help you a little?

Hedvig.Yes, there’s Mr. Molvik; but he not always quite—exactly—as——

Gregers.He drinks then?

Hedvig.Yes, indeed.

Gregers.Well, then you’ve plenty of time to do anything. And in there—I suppose that’s a world of itself.

Hedvig.Quite of itself. And then there are so many wonderful things there.

Gregers.Really?

Hedvig.Yes, there are great cupboards full of books, and in some of the books there are pictures.

Gregers.Aha!

Hedvig.And then there’s an old bureau, with drawers and flaps, and a big clock with figures that can come out. But the clock doesn’t go now.

Gregers.So time has stood still—in there with the wild duck.

Hedvig.Yes. And then there’s an old paint-box and so forth; and then all the books.

Gregers.And I suppose you like reading the books?

Hedvig.Oh, yes, when I can get time. But most of them are English, and I don’t understand it. Butthen I look at the pictures. There’s one great book, called “Harryson’s History of London;” it must be a hundred years old; and there are such an enormous lot of pictures in it. On the front page there’s a picture of Death with an hour-glass, and a young girl. I think that’s horrid. But then there are all the other pictures of churches and palaces, and streets, and great ships sailing on the sea.

Gregers.But tell me, where did you get all these rare things from?

Hedvig.Oh! An old sea-captain once lived here, and he brought them home. They used to call him “The Flying Dutchman.” And that’s odd, for he wasn’t a Dutchman at all.

Gregers.No?

Hedvig.No. But at last he stopped away altogether, and all his things were left here.

Gregers.Listen—just tell me—when you sit in there looking at the pictures, don’t you want to get out, and see the real great world itself?

Hedvig.Oh, no! I want to stop at home always, and help father and mother.

Gregers.Finishing photographs?

Hedvig.No, not only that. What I should like best would be to learn to engrave pictures like those in the English books.

Gregers.H’m! What does your father say to that?

Hedvig.I don’t think father likes it, for father’s so odd in some things. Fancy, he talks about my learning basket-making and straw-plaiting! But I don’t thinkthat’sanything much.

Gregers.Oh, no; neither do I.

Hedvig.But father’s right aboutonething, that if I’d learnt to make baskets, I might have made the new basket for the wild duck myself.

Gregers.So you might; and you were the right person to have made it.

Hedvig.Yes, for it’smywild duck.

Gregers.Yes, so it is.

Hedvig.Oh, yes, she belongs tome. But I lend her to father and grandfather as often as ever they like.

Gregers.Indeed! What do they do with her?

Hedvig.Oh! they arrange things for her, and build for her, and all that.

Gregers.I understand; for I suppose the wild duck’s the most distinguished personage in there.

Hedvig.Of course she is; for she’s a real wild bird. And it’s a pity about her, too, for she has no one to care for, poor thing.

Gregers.She hasn’t a family like the rabbits.

Hedvig.No. The fowls, too, have so many they were chicks with together, but she has been taken right away from all her own. And then it’s all so strange about those wild ducks. No one knows them, and nobody knows where they come from either.

Gregers.And so she has been to the ocean depths.

Hedvig(looks up at him for a moment and smiles). Why do you say “the ocean depths?”

Gregers.What else should I say?

Hedvig.You might have said the “bottom of the sea,” or the “sea bottom.”

Gregers.Oh! mayn’t I just as well say in the ocean depths?

Hedvig.Of course, only it sounds so odd to hear people talk of the depths of the ocean.

Gregers.Why? Tell me why.

Hedvig.No, I won’t, for it’s so silly——

Gregers.I’m sure it’s not. Now, tell me why you smiled?

Hedvig.Well, it’s because when I happen to remember what’s in there—all of a sudden—it always seems to me that the whole room and everything in it should be called the “depths of the ocean”—but that’s so silly.

Gregers.You must not say that.

Hedvig.Yes, for it’s only a loft.

Gregers(looking steadily at her). Are you so sure of that?

Hedvig(astonished). That it’s a loft!

Gregers.Yes. Are you quite certain it is?

Hedviglooks at him in silence, open-mouthed.Ginacomes in with the table-cloth, etc., from the kitchen.

Gregers(rising). I’ve come in too early, I fear?

Gina.Well, you had to stop somewhere—and it’s almost ready now. Clear the table, Hedvig.

Hedvigclears away the things; she andGinago on laying the table during the following conversation.Gregerssits down in the arm-chair and turns over the leaves of an album.

Gregers.I hear you can retouch, Mrs. Ekdal.

Gina(with a side glance). Yes, I can.

Gregers.That was a lucky coincidence.

Gina.How, lucky?

Gregers.As Ekdal went in for photography, I mean.

Hedvig.Mother can take photographs, too.

Gina.Oh, yes! I’ve had plenty of opportunity to teach myselfthatart.

Gregers.Then, perhaps, it’s you really that attend to the business?

Gina.Yes, when Ekdal hasn’ttimehimself, I——

Gregers.No doubt, his time’s a great deal taken up with his old father. I understand that.

Gina.Yes, and then it’s not the thing for a man like Ekdal to take portraits of anybody and everybody.

Gregers.So I think, but still, since he has taken it up—I——

Gina.Mr. Werle, I’m sure, can understand that Ekdal is not an ordinary photographer.

Gregers.Of course not—— But—— (A shot is fired within the loft, he starts.) What’s that?

Gina.Up there they are shooting again!

Gregers.Do they shoot too?

Hedvig.They go a-hunting.

Gregers.What hunt? (Going towards the door of the loft.) Are you hunting, Hjalmar?

Hjalmar(behind the net). Are you here? I didn’t know—I was so taken up—— (ToHedvig.) And you didn’t tell us——

Comes into the studio.

Gregers.Do you go a hunting in the loft?

Hjalmar(showing a double-barreled pistol). Oh! only with this.

Gina.Yes, you and grandfather’ll have an accident one of these days with that pigstol.

Hjalmar(vexed). I think I’ve told you, that this kind of fire-arm is called a pistol.

Gina.Well, I don’t think that’s any better.

Gregers.So you too have turned hunter; you too, Hjalmar?

Hjalmar.Only a little rabbit shooting now and again. Chiefly for father’s sake, you understand.

Gina.Men folk are such queer creatures; they must always have something to divide themselves with.

Hjalmar(angrily). Yes, yes, of course, we must always have something to divide ourselves with.

Gina.Why that’s exactly whatI’m saying.

Hjalmar.Well, h’m! (ToGregers.) And then luckily you see the loft is so situated that no one can hear us shooting. (Putting the pistol on the top shelf of the case.) Don’t touch the pistol, Hedvig! The one barrel’s loaded, remember.

Gregers(looking in through the net). Oh, you’ve a fowling-piece too, I see.

Hjalmar.That’s father’s old gun. You can’t shoot with it now, for there’s something wrong with the lock. But it’s very amusing to have it, all the same, because we can take it all to pieces, and oil it, and then screw it together again. Of course its mostly father who muddles about with such things.

Hedvig(going up toGregers). Now you can see the wild duck properly.

Gregers.I was just looking at it. One of her wings drops a little it seems to me.

Hjalmar.Well, that’s not so remarkable; you know she was wounded.

Gregers.And she seems a little lame in one foot, isn’t she?

Hjalmar.Perhaps just a very little bit.

Hedvig.Yes, for the dog bit her in that foot.

Hjalmar.But she hasn’t another fault or blemish; and that is really remarkable for a creature that has had a discharge of shot into its body, and has been between a dog’s teeth.

Gregers(with a glance atHedvig). And who has been to the depths of the ocean?

Hedvig(smiling). Yes.

Gina(setting the table). Oh! that blessed wild duck! You’ll be falling down and worshipping her next.

Hjalmar.H’m—is the lunch nearly ready?

Gina.Yes, in a moment. Hedvig, you must come and help me now.

GinaandHedviggo out into the kitchen.

Hjalmar(in a lower voice). I don’t think you’d better stand there looking at father; he doesn’t like it. (Gregersmoves away from the door of the loft.) And I’d better shut up before the others come in. (Shooing with his hands.) S’h! s’h! Get away with you! (He pulls up the curtain and shuts the doors.) These contrivances are my own inventions. It’s really very amusing to have something like that to arrange, and to mend when it gets broken. And besides, it is quite necessary, too, you see, for Gina doesn’t like having the rabbits and fowls in the studio.

Gregers.No, of course not; and, perhaps, it’s your wife who manages the business?

Hjalmar.I usually leave every-day business to her, for then I can seek refuge in the sitting-room, and think over more important matters.

Gregers.What sort of matters, Hjalmar?

Hjalmar.I wonder you’ve not asked aboutthatbefore? Or, perhaps, you’ve not heard about the invention?

Gregers.Invention? No.

Hjalmar.Really? You’ve not? Ah! well, up there in the woods and wilds——

Gregers.So you’ve made an invention!

Hjalmar.Well, I’ve not exactly made it yet, but I’m working at it. Surely you can understand that when I decided to sacrifice myself to photography, it wasn’t in order to take likenesses of all sorts of commonplace people.

Gregers.No, no, that was what your wife was just saying.

Hjalmar.I vowed that if I did devote my powers to this manual labor I would at least raise it so high that it should be both an art and a science. And so I made up my mind to make this remarkable invention.

Gregers.And in what does the invention consist? What is it to do?

Hjalmar.Why, my dear fellow, youmustn’task for such details yet. It takes time, you see. And youmustn’tbelieve that I am inspired by vanity. Truly, I’m not working for my own sake. Oh, no! It is my life—a mission that I see before me night and day.

Gregers.What life-mission is that?

Hjalmar.Have you forgotten the old man with the silver hair?

Gregers.Your poor father; but what can you really do for him?

Hjalmar.I can invoke his self-respect from the dead, by raising up the name of Ekdal to honor and respect again.

Gregers.So that is your life-mission.

Hjalmar.Yes. I will save the shipwrecked man. For he did suffer shipwreck when the storm burst forth over him. Even while those terrible investigations were going on he was no longer himself. That pistol there—that we used to shoot rabbits with—it has played a part in the tragedy of the house of Ekdal.

Gregers.The pistol! Indeed?

Hjalmar.When the sentence was pronounced and he was to be put ingaol—he had that pistol in his hand——

Gregers.He had!

Hjalmar.Yes, but he did not dare. He was afraid. So demoralized, so lost even then was his spirit. Ah! Can you understand that? He a soldier; he who had shot nine bears, the descendant of two lieutenant-colonels—one after the other, of course. Can you understand it, Gregers?——

Gregers.Yes, I understand it very well.

Hjalmar.I do not. And then the pistol played a part too in another incident in the history of our house. When he had donned the gray dress, and was set under lock and key—ah! believe me that was a terrible time for me. I had pulled down the blinds of both my windows. When I looked out, I saw that the sun was shining as was its wont. I could not understand. Isaw men walking about the streets, laughing and gossipping of indifferent matters. I could not understand. I thought all the universe must be standing still as at an eclipse of the sun.

Gregers.I felt so when my mother died.

Hjalmar.In that same hour Hjalmar Ekdal turned the pistol towards his own breast.

Gregers.So you, too, thought of that!

Hjalmar.Yes.

Gregers.But you did not fire?

Hjalmar.No. In that decisive moment I gained the victory over myself. I went on living. But, believe me, it needed courage to chooselifeunder such conditions.

Gregers.It depends on the point of view.

Hjalmar.Yes, entirely. But it was better so; for now I shall soon make the invention; and then Doctor Relling believes, as I do, myself, that father will get leave to wear his uniform again. I shall ask this as my sole reward.

Gregers.So it’s the uniform that he——?

Hjalmar.Yes; it isthatthat he most hankers and pines after. You can not imagine how this cuts me to the heart for his sake. Whenever we have a little family feast here—such as Gina’s and my wedding-day, or anything of that sort—the old man comes in here dressed in his lieutenant uniform of happier days. But as soon as there’s a knock at the door—for he mustn’t show himself before strangers you know—he hurries off to his room again as fast as his old legs will carry him. It lacerates a filial heart to see that!

Gregers.And when do you think your invention’ll be ready?

Hjalmar.Now, really you mustn’t ask me about such details as to time. An invention is a thing which doesn’t allow a man to be wholly and solely master of himself. It depends a good deal on inspiration—on an idea—and it’s well-nigh impossible to calculate beforehand when that will come.

Gregers.But it’s making progress?

Hjalmar.Of course it’s making progress. I work every blessed day at the invention, which fills my whole being. Every afternoon when I’ve dined, I lock myself up in my sitting-room, there I can ponder in peace. Only I mustn’t be driven, for that is no earthly use whatever; Relling says so, too.

Gregers.And don’t you find that all those contrivances in there in the loft, take you away and distract you too much?

Hjalmar.No, no, no; quite the contrary. You mustn’t say that. Surely, I can’t always go about brooding over the same exhausting ideas. I must have something to fill up the time spent in expectancy. Inspiration, ideas, you see—if they’re coming they’ll come anyhow.

Gregers.My dear Hjalmar, I almost think there’s something of the wild duck in you.

Hjalmar.Of the wild duck? What do you mean?

Gregers.You have dived under and got caught fast in the weeds at the bottom.

Hjalmar.Are you alluding to the well-nigh deadly shot that winged father and me too?

Gregers.Not so much tothat. I don’t mean to say that you are wounded, but you have fallen into a poisonous swamp; you have within you an insidiousdisease, and you have sunk to the bottom to die in the dark.

Hjalmar.I? Die in the dark? Now, I tell you what, Gregers, you really should drop such talk.

Gregers.Do not fear; for I will bring you up to the surface again. For I, too, have a mission in life now, you see; I found it, yesterday.

Hjalmar.Well, that may be; but you should leave me alone. I assure you that—of course, with the exception of a very natural melancholy—I am as happy as a man could desire to be.

Gregers.That youareso, is also a result of the poison.

Hjalmar.Now, my dear, good Gregers, don’t say anything more about disease and poison; I’m not used to that sort of thing; in my house no one ever mentions such disagreeable things to me.

Gregers.Ah! I can well believethat!

Hjalmar.For it’s not good for me. And here there is no air of the swamp as you call it. The poor home of the photographer is lowly—I know that well—and my means are narrow. But, I am an inventor, remember, and I am the bread-winner of a family too.Thatraises me above my lowly circumstances—— Ah! here they are with the luncheon!

GinaandHedvigbring bottles of beer, a decanter of brandy, glasses and so forth. At the same timeRellingandMolvikenter from the passage; they are both without hats and top coats;Molvikis dressed in black.

Gina(putting the things on the table). Well, those two timed it well.

Relling.Molvik fancied he smelt herring-salad, and so there was no holding him back. Good morning for the second time, Ekdal.

Hjalmar.Gregers, let me introduce Mr. Molvik; doctor—— Why you know Relling.

Gregers.Yes, slightly.

Relling.Ah! This is Mr. Werle, junior. Yes, we two have often come to loggerheads with one another up at the Hojdal Works. I suppose you’ve just moved in?

Gregers.I moved in this morning.

Relling.And Molvik and I live underneath you, so you’re not far from the doctor and priest, if you should want anything of the sort.

Gregers.That might be; for yesterday we were thirteen at table.

Hjalmar.Oh! now don’t bring up such disagreeable things again!

Relling.You needn’t trouble, Ekdal, for it won’t hurt you.

Hjalmar.I hope so for the sake of my family. But let’s sit down and eat, and drink, and be merry.

Gregers.Shall we not wait for your father?

Hjalmar.No, he’ll have his taken into him presently. Come along!

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