ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Looks at him smilingly.] I mean to.

ERHART.

[Eagerly.] And then we could have a good long talk to-morrow-- or some other day, of course--about this and that--about things in general--you and mother and I. Wouldn't that be much the best plan, Aunt Ella?

MRS. BORKMAN.

[With an outburst, rising from the sofa.] Erhart, I can see you are going to leave me!

ERHART.

[Starts.] What do you mean by that?

MRS. BORKMAN.

You are going down to--to the Hinkels'?

ERHART.

[Involuntarily.] Oh, that! [Collecting himself.] Well, you wouldn't have me sit here and keep Aunt Ella up half the night?

Remember, she's an invalid, mother.

MRS. BORKMAN.

You are going to the Hinkels', Erhart!

ERHART.

[Impatiently.] Well, really, mother, I don't think I can well get out of it. What do you say, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

I should like you to feel quite free, Erhart.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Goes up to her menacingly.] You want to take him away from me!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Rising.] Yes, if only I could, Gunhild!

[Music is heard from above.

ERHART.

[Writhing as if in pain.] Oh, I can't endure this! [Looking round.] What have I done with my hat? [To ELLA RENTHEIM.] Do you know the air that she is playing up there?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

No. What is it?

ERHART.

It's the _Danse Macabre_--the Dance of Death! Don't you know the Dance of Death, Aunt?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Smiling sadly.] Not yet, Erhart.

ERHART.

[To MRS. BORKMAN.] Mother--I beg and implore you--let me go!

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Looks hardly at him.] Away from your mother? So that is what you want to do?

ERHART.

Of course I'll come out again--to-morrow perhaps.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[With pa.s.sionate emotion.] You want to go away from me! To be with those strange people! With--with--no, I will not even think of it!

ERHART.

There are bright lights down there, and young, happy faces; and there's music there, mother!

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Pointing upwards.] There is music here, too, Erhart.

ERHART.

Yes, it's just that music that drives me out of the house.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Do you grudge your father a moment of self-forgetfulness?

ERHART.

No, I don't. I'm very, very glad that he should have it--if only _I_ don't have to listen.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Looking solemnly at him.] Be strong, Erhart! Be strong, my son! Do not forget that you have your great mission.

ERHART.

Oh, mother--do spare me these phrases! I wasn't born to be a "missionary."--Good-night, aunt dear! Good-night, mother.

[He goes hastily out through the hall.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[After a short silence.] It has not taken you long to recapture him, Ella, after all.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

I wish I could believe it.

MRS. BORKMAN.

But you shall see you won't be allowed to keep him long.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Allowed? By you, do you mean?

MRS. BORKMAN.

By me or--by her, the other one----

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Then rather she than you.