Have you been anxious about me? Eh?

HEDDA.

No, I should never think of being anxious. But I asked if you had enjoyed yourself.

TESMAN.

Oh yes,-for once in a way. Especially the beginning of the evening; for then Eilert read me part of his book. We arrived more than an hour too early-fancy that! And Brack had all sorts of arrangements to make-so Eilert read to me.

HEDDA.

[Seating herself by the table on the right.] Well? Tell me then- TESMAN.

[Sitting on a footstool near the stove.] Oh, Hedda, you can't conceive what a book that is going to be! I believe it is one of the most remarkable things that have ever been written. Fancy that!

HEDDA.

Yes yes; I don't care about that- TESMAN.

I must make a confession to you, Hedda. When he had finished reading-a horrid feeling came over me.

HEDDA.

A horrid feeling?

TESMAN.

I felt jealous of Eilert for having had it in him to write such a book. Only think, Hedda!

HEDDA.

Yes, yes, I am thinking!

TESMAN.

And then how pitiful to think that he-with all his gifts-should be irreclaimable, after all.

HEDDA.

I suppose you mean that he has more courage than the rest?

TESMAN.

No, not at all-I mean that he is incapable of taking his pleasure in moderation.

HEDDA.

And what came of it all-in the end?

TESMAN.

Well, to tell the truth, I think it might best be described as an orgie, Hedda.

HEDDA.

Had he vine-leaves in his hair?

TESMAN.

Vine-leaves? No, I saw nothing of the sort. But he made a long, rambling speech in honour of the woman who had inspired him in his work-that was the phrase he used.

HEDDA.

Did he name her?

TESMAN.

No, he didn't; but I can't help thinking he meant Mrs. Elvsted. You may be sure he did.

HEDDA.

Well-where did you part from him?

TESMAN.

On the way to town. We broke up-the last of us at any rate-all together; and Brack came with us to get a breath of fresh air. And then, you see, we agreed to take Eilert home; for he had had far more than was good for him.

HEDDA.

I daresay.

TESMAN.

But now comes the strange part of it, Hedda; or, I should rather say, the melancholy part of it. I declare I am almost ashamed-on Eilert's account-to tell you- HEDDA.

Oh, go on-!

TESMAN.

Well, as we were getting near town, you see, I happened to drop a little behind the others. Only for a minute or two-fancy that!

HEDDA.

Yes yes yes, but-?

TESMAN.

And then, as I hurried after them-what do you think I found by the wayside? Eh?

HEDDA.

Oh, how should I know!

TESMAN.

You mustn't speak of it to a soul, Hedda! Do you hear! Promise me, for Eilert's sake. [Draws a parcel, wrapped in paper, from his coat pocket.] Fancy, dear-I found this.

HEDDA.

Is not that the parcel he had with him yesterday?

TESMAN.

Yes, it is the whole of his precious, irreplaceable ma.n.u.script! And he had gone and lost it, and knew nothing about it. Only fancy, Hedda! So deplorably- HEDDA.

But why did you not give him back the parcel at once?

TESMAN.

I didn't dare to-in the state he was then in- HEDDA.

Did you not tell any of the others that you had found it?

TESMAN.

Oh, far from it! You can surely understand that, for Eilert's sake, I wouldn't do that.

HEDDA.

So no one knows that Eilert Lovborg's ma.n.u.script is in your possession?

TESMAN.

No. And no one must know it.

HEDDA.

Then what did you say to him afterwards?

TESMAN.

I didn't talk to him again at all; for when we got in among the streets, he and two or three of the others gave us the slip and disappeared. Fancy that!

HEDDA.

Indeed! They must have taken him home then.

TESMAN.

Yes, so it would appear. And Brack, too, left us.

HEDDA.

And what have you been doing with yourself since?

TESMAN.

Well, I and some of the others went home with one of the party, a jolly fellow, and took our morning coffee with him; or perhaps I should rather call it our night coffee-eh? But now, when I have rested a little, and given Eilert, poor fellow, time to have his sleep out, I must take this back to him.

HEDDA.

[Holds out her hand for the packet.] No-don't give it to him! Not in such a hurry, I mean. Let me read it first.

TESMAN.

No, my dearest Hedda, I mustn't, I really mustn't.

HEDDA.

You must not?

TESMAN.

No-for you can imagine what a state of despair he will be in when he wakens and misses the ma.n.u.script. He has no copy of it, you must know! He told me so.

HEDDA.

[Looking searchingly at him.] Can such a thing not be reproduced? Written over again?

TESMAN.

No, I don't think that would be possible. For the inspiration, you see- HEDDA.

Yes, yes-I suppose it depends on that-[Lightly.] But, by-the-bye -here is a letter for you.

TESMAN.

Fancy-!

HEDDA.

[Handing it to him.] It came early this morning.

TESMAN.

It's from Aunt Julia! What can it be? [He lays the packet on the other footstool, opens the letter, runs his eye through it, and jumps up.] Oh, Hedda-she says that poor Aunt Rina is dying!

HEDDA.