the door behind him.
[HEDDA, who has become quite serious, stands for a moment
looking out. Presently she goes and peeps through the
curtain over the middle doorway. Then she goes to the
writing-table, takes LOVBORG'S packet out of the bookcase,
and is on the point of looking through its contents. BERTA
is heard speaking loudly in the hall. HEDDA turns and
listens. Then she hastily locks up the packet in the drawer,
and lays the key on the inkstand.
hand, tears open the hall door. He looks somewhat confused
and irritated.
LOVBORG.
[Looking towards the hall.] and I tell you I must and will come in! There!
control, and bows.
HEDDA.
[At the writing-table.] Well, Mr Lovborg, this is rather a late hour to call for Thea.
LOVBORG.
You mean rather an early hour to call on you. Pray pardon me.
HEDDA.
How do you know that she is still here?
LOVBORG.
They told me at her lodgings that she had been out all night.
HEDDA.
[Going to the oval table.] Did you notice anything about the people of the house when they said that?
LOVBORG.
[Looks inquiringly at her.] Notice anything about them?
HEDDA.
I mean, did they seem to think it odd?
LOVBORG.
[Suddenly understanding.] Oh yes, of course! I am dragging her down with me! However, I didn't notice anything.—I suppose Tesman is not up yet.
HEDDA.
No—I think not—
LOVBORG.
When did he come home?
HEDDA.
Very late.
LOVBORG.
Did he tell you anything?
HEDDA.
Yes, I gathered that you had had an exceedingly jolly evening at Judge Brack's.
LOVBORG.
Nothing more?
HEDDA.
I don't think so. However, I was so dreadfully sleepy—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Going towards him.] Ah, Lovborg! At last—!
LOVBORG.
Yes, at last. And too late!
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Looks anxiously at him.] What is too late?
LOVBORG.
Everything is too late now. It is all over with me.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh no, no—don't say that!
LOVBORG.
You will say the same when you hear—
MRS. ELVSTED.
I won't hear anything!
HEDDA.
Perhaps you would prefer to talk to her alone? If so, I will leave you.
LOVBORG.
No, stay—you too. I beg you to stay.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, but I won't hear anything, I tell you.
LOVBORG.
It is not last night's adventures that I want to talk about.
MRS. ELVSTED.
What is it then—?
LOVBORG.
I want to say that now our ways must part.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Part!
HEDDA.
[Involuntarily.] I knew it!
LOVBORG.
You can be of no more service to me, Thea.
MRS. ELVSTED.
How can you stand there and say that! No more service to you! Am I not to help you now, as before? Are we not to go on working together?
LOVBORG.
Henceforward I shall do no work.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Despairingly.] Then what am I to do with my life?
LOVBORG.
You must try to live your life as if you had never known me.
MRS. ELVSTED.
But you know I cannot do that!
LOVBORG.
Try if you cannot, Thea. You must go home again—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[In vehement protest.] Never in this world! Where you are, there will I be also! I will not let myself be driven away like this! I will remain here! I will be with you when the book appears.
HEDDA.
[Half aloud, in suspense.] Ah yes—the book!
LOVBORG.
[Looks at her.] My book and Thea's; for that is what it is.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, I feel that it is. And that is why I have a right to be with you when it appears! I will see with my own eyes how respect and honour pour in upon you afresh. And the happiness—the happiness—oh, I must share it with you!
LOVBORG.
Thea—our book will never appear.
HEDDA.
Ah!
MRS. ELVSTED.
Never appear!
LOVBORG.
Can never appear.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[In agonised foreboding.] Lovborg—what have you done with the manuscript?
HEDDA.
[Looks anxiously at him.] Yes, the manuscript—?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Where is it?
LOVBORG.
The manuscript—. Well then—I have torn the manuscript into a thousand pieces.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Shrieks.] Oh no, no—!
HEDDA.
[Involuntarily.] But that's not—
LOVBORG.
[Looks at her.] Not true, you think?
HEDDA.
[Collecting herself.] Oh well, of course—since you say so. But it sounded so improbable—
LOVBORG.
It is true, all the same.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Wringing her hands.] Oh God—oh God, Hedda—torn his own work to pieces!
LOVBORG.
I have torn my own life to pieces. So why should I not tear my life-work too—?
MRS. ELVSTED.
And you did this last night?
LOVBORG.
Yes, I tell you! Tore it into a thousand pieces—and scattered them on the fiord—far out. There there is cool sea-water at any rate—let them drift upon it—drift with the current and the wind. And then presently they will sink—deeper and deeper—as I shall, Thea.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Do you know, Lovborg, that what you have done with the book—I shall think of it to my dying day as though you had killed a little child.
LOVBORG.
Yes, you are right. It is a sort of child-murder.
MRS. ELVSTED.
How could you, then—! Did not the child belong to me too?
HEDDA.
[Almost inaudibly.] Ah, the child—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Breathing heavily.] It is all over then. Well well, now I will go, Hedda.
HEDDA.
But you are not going away from town?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I don't know what I shall do. I see nothing but darkness before me. [She goes out by the hall door.
HEDDA.
[Stands waiting for a moment.] So you are not going to see her home, Mr. Lovborg?
LOVBORG.
I? Through the streets? Would you have people see her walking with me?
HEDDA.
Of course I don't know what else may have happened last night. But is it so utterly irretrievable?
LOVBORG.
It will not end with last night—I know that perfectly well. And the thing is that now I have no taste for that sort of life either. I won't begin it anew. She has broken my courage and my power of braving life out.
HEDDA.
[Looking straight before her.] So that pretty little fool has had her fingers in a man's destiny. [Looks at him.] But all the same, how could you treat her so heartlessly.
LOVBORG.
Oh, don't say that I was heartless!
HEDDA.
To go and destroy what has filled her whole soul for months and years! You do not call that heartless!
LOVBORG.
To you I can tell the truth, Hedda.
HEDDA.
The truth?
LOVBORG.
First promise me—give me your word—that what I now confide in you Thea shall never know.
HEDDA.
I give you my word.
LOVBORG.
Good. Then let me tell you that what I said just now was untrue.
HEDDA.
About the manuscript?
LOVBORG.
Yes. I have not torn it to pieces—nor thrown it into the fiord.
HEDDA.
No, no—. But—where is it then?
LOVBORG.
I have destroyed it none the less—utterly destroyed it, Hedda!
HEDDA.
I don't understand.
LOVBORG.
Thea said that what I had done seemed to her like a child-murder.
HEDDA.
Yes, so she said.
LOVBORG.
But to kill his child—that is not the worst thing a father can do to it.
HEDDA.
Not the worst?
LOVBORG.
Suppose now, Hedda, that a man—in the small hours of the morning—came home to his child's mother after a night of riot and debauchery, and said: "Listen—I have been here and there—in this place and in that. And I have taken our child with—to this place and to that. And I have lost the child—utterly lost it. The devil knows into what hands it may have fallen—who may have had their clutches on it."
HEDDA.
Well—but when all is said and done, you know—this was only a book—
LOVBORG.
Thea's pure soul was in that book.
HEDDA.
Yes, so I understand.
LOVBORG.
And you can understand, too, that for her and me together no future is possible.
HEDDA.
What path do you mean to take then?
LOVBORG.
None. I will only try to make an end of it all—the sooner the better.
HEDDA.
[A step nearer him.] Eilert Lovborg—listen to me.—Will you not try to—to do it beautifully?
LOVBORG.
Beautifully? [Smiling.] With vine-leaves in my hair, as you used to dream in the old days—?
HEDDA.
No, no. I have lost my faith in the vine-leaves. But beautifully nevertheless! For once in a way!—Good-bye! You must go now—and do not come here any more.
LOVBORG.
Good-bye, Mrs. Tesman. And give George Tesman my love.
HEDDA.
No, wait! I must give you a memento to take with you.
pistol-case; then returns to LOVBORG with one of the pistols.
LOVBORG.
[Looks at her.] This? Is this the memento?
HEDDA.
[Nodding slowly.] Do you recognise it? It was aimed at you once.
LOVBORG.
You should have used it then.
HEDDA.
Take it—and do you use it now.
LOVBORG.
[Puts the pistol in his breast pocket.] Thanks!
HEDDA.
And beautifully, Eilert Lovborg. Promise me that!
LOVBORG.
Good-bye, Hedda Gabler. [He goes out by the hall door.
the writing-table, takes out the packet of manuscript, peeps
under the cover, draws a few of the sheets half out, and
looks at them. Next she goes over and seats herself in the
arm-chair beside the stove, with the packet in her lap.
Presently she opens the stove door, and then the packet.
HEDDA.
[Throws one of the quires into the fire and whispers to herself.] Now I am burning your child, Thea!—Burning it, curly-locks! [Throwing one or two more quires into the stove.] Your child and Eilert Lovborg's. [Throws the rest in.] I am burning—I am burning your child.
ACT FOURTH.
room is in darkness. The back room is lighted by the hanging
lamp over the table. The curtains over the glass door are
drawn close.
HEDDA, dressed in black, walks to and fro in the dark room.
Then she goes into the back room and disappears for a moment
to the left. She is heard to strike a few chords on the
piano. Presently she comes in sight again, and returns to
the drawing-room.
BERTA enters from the right, through the inner room, with a
lighted lamp, which she places on the table in front of the
corner settee in the drawing-room. Her eyes are red with
weeping, and she has black ribbons in her cap. She goes
quietly and circumspectly out to the right. HEDDA goes up
to the glass door, lifts the curtain a little aside, and
looks out into the darkness.
Shortly afterwards, MISS TESMAN, in mourning, with a bonnet
and veil on, comes in from the hall. HEDDA goes towards her
and holds out her hand.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, Hedda, here I am, in mourning and forlorn; for now my poor sister has at last found peace.
HEDDA.
I have heard the news already, as you see. Tesman sent me a card.
MISS TESMAN.
Yes, he promised me he would. But nevertheless I thought that to Hedda—here in the house of life—I ought myself to bring the tidings of death.
HEDDA.
That was very kind of you.
MISS TESMAN.
Ah, Rina ought not to have left us just now. This is not the time for Hedda's house to be a house of mourning.
HEDDA.
[Changing the subject.] She died quite peacefully, did she not, Miss Tesman?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, her end was so calm, so beautiful. And then she had the unspeakable happiness of seeing George once more—and bidding him good-bye.—Has he not come home yet?
HEDDA.
No. He wrote that he might be detained. But won't you sit down?
MISS TESMAN.
No thank you, my dear, dear Hedda. I should like to, but I have so much to do. I must prepare my dear one for her rest as well as I can. She shall go to her grave looking her best.
HEDDA.
Can I not help you in any way?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, you must not think of it! Hedda Tesman must have no hand in such mournful work. Nor let her thought dwell on it either—not at this time.
HEDDA.
One is not always mistress of one's thoughts—
MISS TESMAN.
[Continuing.] Ah yes, it is the way of the world. At home we shall be sewing a shroud; and here there will soon be sewing too, I suppose—but of another sort, thank God!
HEDDA.
Ah, you have come at last!
TESMAN.
You here, Aunt Julia? With Hedda? Fancy that!
MISS TESMAN.
I was just going, my dear boy. Well, have you done all you promised?
TESMAN.
No; I'm really afraid I have forgotten half of it. I must come to you again to-morrow. To-day my brain is all in a whirl. I can't keep my thoughts together.
MISS TESMAN.
Why, my dear George, you mustn't take it in this way.
TESMAN.
Mustn't—? How do you mean?
MISS TESMAN.
Even in your sorrow you must rejoice, as I do—rejoice that she is at rest.
TESMAN.
Oh yes, yes—you are thinking of Aunt Rina.
HEDDA.
You will feel lonely now, Miss Tesman.
MISS TESMAN.
Just at first, yes. But that will not last very long, I hope. I daresay I shall soon find an occupant for Rina's little room.
TESMAN.
Indeed? Who do you think will take it? Eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, there's always some poor invalid or other in want of nursing, unfortunately.
HEDDA.
Would you really take such a burden upon you again?
MISS TESMAN.
A burden! Heaven forgive you, child—it has been no burden to me.
HEDDA.
But suppose you had a total stranger on your hands—
MISS TESMAN.
Oh, one soon makes friends with sick folk; and it's such an absolute necessity for me to have some one to live for. Well, heaven be praised, there may soon be something in this house, too, to keep an old aunt busy.
HEDDA.
Oh, don't trouble about anything here.
TESMAN.
Yes, just fancy what a nice time we three might have together, if—?
HEDDA.
If—?
TESMAN.
[Uneasily.] Oh nothing. It will all come right. Let us hope so—eh?
MISS TESMAN.
Well well, I daresay you two want to talk to each other. [Smiling.] And perhaps Hedda may have something to tell you too, George. Good-bye! I must go home to Rina. [Turning at the door.] How strange it is to think that now Rina is with me and with my poor brother as well!
TESMAN.
Yes, fancy that, Aunt Julia! Eh?
HEDDA.
[Follows TESMAN coldly and searchingly with her eyes.] I almost believe your Aunt Rina's death affects you more than it does your Aunt Julia.
TESMAN.
Oh, it's not that alone. It's Eilert I am so terribly uneasy about.
HEDDA.
[Quickly.] Is there anything new about him?
TESMAN.
I looked in at his rooms this afternoon, intending to tell him the manuscript was in safe keeping.
HEDDA.
Well, did you find him?
TESMAN.
No. He wasn't at home. But afterwards I met Mrs. Elvsted, and she told me that he had been here early this morning.
HEDDA.
Yes, directly after you had gone.
TESMAN.
And he said that he had torn his manuscript to pieces—eh?
HEDDA.
Yes, so he declared.
TESMAN.
Why, good heavens, he must have been completely out of his mind! And I suppose you thought it best not to give it back to him, Hedda?
HEDDA.
No, he did not get it.
TESMAN.
But of course you told him that we had it?
HEDDA.
No. [Quickly.] Did you tell Mrs. Elvsted?
TESMAN.
No; I thought I had better not. But you ought to have told him. Fancy, if, in desperation, he should go and do himself some injury! Let me have the manuscript, Hedda! I will take it to him at once. Where is it?
HEDDA.
[Cold and immovable, leaning on the arm-chair.] I have not got it.
TESMAN.
Have not got it? What in the world do you mean?
HEDDA.
I have burnt it—every line of it.
TESMAN.
[With a violent movement of terror.] Burnt! Burnt Eilert's manuscript!
HEDDA.
Don't scream so. The servant might hear you.
TESMAN.
Burnt! Why, good God—! No, no, no! It's impossible!
HEDDA.
It is so, nevertheless.
TESMAN.
Do you know what you have done, Hedda? It's unlawful appropriation of lost property. Fancy that! Just ask Judge Brack, and he'll tell you what it is.
HEDDA.
I advise you not to speak of it—either to Judge Brack or to anyone else.
TESMAN.
But how could you do anything so unheard-of? What put it into your head? What possessed you? Answer me that—eh?
HEDDA.
[Suppressing an almost imperceptible smile.] I did it for your sake, George.
TESMAN.
For my sake!
HEDDA.
This morning, when you told me about what he had read to you—
TESMAN.
Yes yes—what then?
HEDDA.
You acknowledged that you envied him his work.
TESMAN.
Oh, of course I didn't mean that literally.
HEDDA.
No matter—I could not bear the idea that any one should throw you into the shade.
TESMAN.
[In an outburst of mingled doubt and joy.] Hedda! Oh, is this true? But—but—I never knew you show your love like that before. Fancy that!
HEDDA.
Well, I may as well tell you that—just at this time— [Impatiently breaking off.] No, no; you can ask Aunt Julia. She will tell you, fast enough.
TESMAN.
Oh, I almost think I understand you, Hedda! [Clasps his hands together.] Great heavens! do you really mean it! Eh?
HEDDA.
Don't shout so. The servant might hear.
TESMAN.
[Laughing in irrepressible glee.] The servant! Why, how absurd you are, Hedda. It's only my old Berta! Why, I'll tell Berta myself.
HEDDA.
[Clenching her hands together in desperation.] Oh, it is killing me, —it is killing me, all this!
TESMAN.
What is, Hedda? Eh?
HEDDA.
[Coldly, controlling herself.] All this—absurdity—George.
TESMAN.
Absurdity! Do you see anything absurd in my being overjoyed at the news! But after all—perhaps I had better not say anything to Berta.
HEDDA.
Oh—why not that too?
TESMAN.
No, no, not yet! But I must certainly tell Aunt Julia. And then that you have begun to call me George too! Fancy that! Oh, Aunt Julia will be so happy—so happy!
HEDDA.
When she hears that I have burnt Eilert Lovborg's manuscript—for your sake?
TESMAN.
No, by-the-bye—that affair of the manuscript—of course nobody must know about that. But that you love me so much,(13) Hedda—Aunt Julia must really share my joy in that! I wonder, now, whether this sort of thing is usual in young wives? Eh?
HEDDA.
I think you had better ask Aunt Julia that question too.
TESMAN.
I will indeed, some time or other. [Looks uneasy and downcast again.] And yet the manuscript—the manuscript! Good God! it is terrible to think what will become of poor Eilert now.
enters by the hall door.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Greets them hurriedly, and says in evident agitation.] Oh, dear Hedda, forgive my coming again.
HEDDA.
What is the matter with you, Thea?
TESMAN.
Something about Eilert Lovborg again—eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes! I am dreadfully afraid some misfortune has happened to him.
HEDDA.
[Seized her arm.] Ah,—do you think so?
TESMAN.
Why, good Lord—what makes you think that, Mrs. Elvsted?
MRS. ELVSTED.
I heard them talking of him at my boarding-house—just as I came in. Oh, the most incredible rumours are afloat about him to-day.
TESMAN.
Yes, fancy, so I heard too! And I can bear witness that he went straight home to bed last night. Fancy that!
HEDDA.
Well, what did they say at the boarding-house?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I couldn't make out anything clearly. Either they knew nothing definite, or else—. They stopped talking when the saw me; and I did not dare to ask.
TESMAN.
[Moving about uneasily.] We must hope—we must hope that you misunderstood them, Mrs. Elvsted.
MRS. ELVSTED.
No, no; I am sure it was of him they were talking. And I heard something about the hospital or—
TESMAN.
The hospital?
HEDDA.
No—surely that cannot be!
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I was in such mortal terror! I went to his lodgings and asked for him there.
HEDDA.
You could make up your mind to that, Thea!
MRS. ELVSTED.
What else could I do? I really could bear the suspense no longer.
TESMAN.
But you didn't find him either—eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
No. And the people knew nothing about him. He hadn't been home since yesterday afternoon, they said.
TESMAN.
Yesterday! Fancy, how could they say that?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, I am sure something terrible must have happened to him.
TESMAN.
Hedda dear—how would it be if I were to go and make inquiries—?
HEDDA.
No, no—don't you mix yourself up in this affair.
door, which BERTA opens, and closes behind him. He looks
grave and bows in silence.
TESMAN.
Oh, is that you, my dear Judge? Eh?
BRACK.
Yes. It was imperative I should see you this evening.
TESMAN.
I can see you have heard the news about Aunt Rina?
BRACK.
Yes, that among other things.
TESMAN.
Isn't it sad—eh?
BRACK.
Well, my dear Tesman, that depends on how you look at it.
TESMAN.
[Looks doubtfully at him.] Has anything else happened?
BRACK.
Yes.
HEDDA.
[In suspense.] Anything sad, Judge Brack?
BRACK.
That, too, depends on how you look at it, Mrs. Tesman.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Unable to restrain her anxiety.] Oh! it is something about Eilert Lovborg!
BRACK.
[With a glance at her.] What makes you think that, Madam? Perhaps you have already heard something—?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[In confusion.] No, nothing at all, but—
TESMAN.
Oh, for heaven's sake, tell us!
BRACK.
[Shrugging his shoulders.] Well, I regret to say Eilert Lovborg has been taken to the hospital. He is lying at the point of death.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Shrieks.] Oh God! oh God—!
TESMAN.
To the hospital! And at the point of death!
HEDDA.
[Involuntarily.] So soon then—
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Wailing.] And we parted in anger, Hedda!
HEDDA.
[Whispers.] Thea—Thea—be careful!
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Not heeding her.] I must go to him! I must see him alive!
BRACK.
It is useless, Madam. No one will be admitted.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, at least tell me what has happened to him? What is it?
TESMAN.
You don't mean to say that he has himself— Eh?
HEDDA.
Yes, I am sure he has.
BRACK.
[Keeping his eyes fixed upon her.] Unfortunately you have guessed quite correctly, Mrs. Tesman.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, how horrible!
TESMAN.
Himself, then! Fancy that!
HEDDA.
Shot himself!
BRACK.
Rightly guessed again, Mrs. Tesman.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[With an effort at self-control.] When did it happen, Mr. Brack?
BRACK.
This afternoon—between three and four.
TESMAN.
But, good Lord, where did he do it? Eh?
BRACK.
[With some hesitation.] Where? Well—I suppose at his lodgings.
MRS. ELVSTED.
No, that cannot be; for I was there between six and seven.
BRACK.
Well then, somewhere else. I don't know exactly. I only know that he was found—. He had shot himself—in the breast.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, how terrible! That he should die like that!
HEDDA.
[To BRACK.] Was it in the breast?
BRACK.
Yes—as I told you.
HEDDA.
Not in the temple?
BRACK.
In the breast, Mrs. Tesman.
HEDDA.
Well, well—the breast is a good place, too.
BRACK.
How do you mean, Mrs. Tesman?
HEDDA.
[Evasively.] Oh, nothing—nothing.
TESMAN.
And the wound is dangerous, you say—eh?
BRACK.
Absolutely mortal. The end has probably come by this time.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes, I feel it. The end! The end! Oh, Hedda—!
TESMAN.
But tell me, how have you learnt all this?
BRACK.
[Curtly.] Through one of the police. A man I had some business with.
HEDDA.
[In a clear voice.] At last a deed worth doing!
TESMAN.
[Terrified.] Good heavens, Hedda! what are you saying?
HEDDA.
I say there is beauty in this.
BRACK.
H'm, Mrs. Tesman—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, Hedda, how can you talk of beauty in such an act!
HEDDA.
Eilert Lovborg has himself made up his account with life. He has had the courage to do—the one right thing.
MRS. ELVSTED.
No, you must never think that was how it happened! It must have been in delirium that he did it.
TESMAN.
In despair!
HEDDA.
That he did not. I am certain of that.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes! In delirium! Just as when he tore up our manuscript.
BRACK.
[Starting.] The manuscript? Has he torn that up?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, last night.
TESMAN.
[Whispers softly.] Oh, Hedda, we shall never get over this.
BRACK.
H'm, very extraordinary.
TESMAN.
[Moving about the room.] To think of Eilert going out of the world in this way! And not leaving behind him the book that would have immortalised his name—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, if only it could be put together again!
TESMAN.
Yes, if it only could! I don't know what I would not give—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Perhaps it can, Mr. Tesman.
TESMAN.
What do you mean?
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Searches in the pocket of her dress.] Look here. I have kept all the loose notes he used to dictate from.
HEDDA.
[A step forward.] Ah—!
TESMAN.
You have kept them, Mrs. Elvsted! Eh?
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, I have them here. I put them in my pocket when I left home. Here they still are—
TESMAN.
Oh, do let me see them!
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Hands him a bundle of papers.] But they are in such disorder—all mixed up.
TESMAN.
Fancy, if we could make something out of them, after all! Perhaps if we two put our heads together—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh yes, at least let us try—
TESMAN.
We will manage it! We must! I will dedicate my life to this task.
HEDDA.
You, George? Your life?
TESMAN.
Yes, or rather all the time I can spare. My own collections must wait in the meantime. Hedda—you understand, eh? I owe this to Eilert's memory.
HEDDA.
Perhaps.
TESMAN.
And so, my dear Mrs. Elvsted, we will give our whole minds to it. There is no use in brooding over what can't be undone—eh? We must try to control our grief as much as possible, and—
MRS. ELVSTED.
Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can.
TESMAN.
Well then, come here. I can't rest until we have looked through the notes. Where shall we sit? Here? No, in there, in the back room. Excuse me, my dear Judge. Come with me, Mrs. Elvsted.
MRS. ELVSTED.
Oh, if only it were possible!