MRS. BORKMAN.

And where is she now?

MRS. WILTON.

She is sitting in the sledge waiting for us.

ERHART.

[In painful embarra.s.sment.] Mother, surely you can understand?

I would have spared you all this--you and every one.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Looks at him, deeply pained.] You would have gone away from me without saying a good-bye?

ERHART.

Yes, I thought that would be best; best for all of us. Our boxes were packed and everything settled. But of course when you sent for me, I---- [Holding out his hands to her.]

Good-bye, mother.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[With a gesture of repulsion.] Don't touch me!

ERHART.

[Gently.] Is that your last word?

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Sternly.] Yes.

ERHART.

[Turning.] Good-bye to you, then, Aunt Ella.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Pressing his hands.] Good-bye, Erhart! And live your life-- and be as happy--as happy as ever you can.

ERHART.

Thanks, Aunt. [Bowing to BORKMAN.] Good-bye, father. [Whispers to MRS. WILTON.] Let us get away, the sooner the better.

MRS. WILTON.

[In a low voice.] Yes, let us.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[With a malignant smile.] Mrs. Wilton, do you think you are acting quite wisely in taking that girl with you?

MRS. WILTON.

[Returning the smile, half ironically, half seriously.] Men are so unstable, Mrs. Borkman. And women too. When Erhart is done with me--and I with him--then it will be well for us both that he, poor fellow, should have some one to fall back upon.

MRS. BORKMAN.

But you yourself?

MRS. WILTON.

Oh, I shall know what to do, I a.s.sure you. Good-bye to you all!

[She bows and goes out by the hall door. ERHART stands for a moment as though wavering; then he turns and follows her.

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Dropping her folded hands.] Childless.

BORKMAN.

[As though awakening to a resolution.] Then out into the storm alone! My hat! My cloak!

[He goes hastily towards the door.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[In terror, stopping him.] John Gabriel, where are you going?

BORKMAN.

Out into the storm of life, I tell you. Let me go, Ella!

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Holding him back.] No, no, I won't let you out! You are ill.

I can see it in your face!

BORKMAN.

Let me go, I tell you!

[He tears himself away from her, and goes out by the hall.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[In the doorway.] Help me to hold him, Gunhild!

MRS. BORKMAN.

[Coldly and sharply, standing in the middle of the room.] I will not try to hold any one in all the world. Let them go away from me--both the one and the other! As far--as far as ever they please. [Suddenly, with a piercing shriek.] Erhart, don't leave me!

[She rushes with outstretched arms towards the door. ELLA RENTHEIM stops her.

ACT FOURTH

An open s.p.a.ce outside the main building, which lies to the right.

A projecting corner of it is visible, with a door approached by a flight of low stone steps. The background consists of steep fir-clad slopes, quite close at hand. On the left are small scattered trees, forming the margin of a wood. The snowstorm has ceased; but the newly fallen snow lies deep around. The fir-branches droop under heavy loads of snow. The night is dark, with drifting clouds. Now and then the moon gleams out faintly. Only a dim light is reflected from the snow.

BORKMAN, MRS. BORKMAN and ELLA RENTHEIM are standing upon the steps, BORKMAN leaning wearily against the wall of the house.

He has an old-fashioned cape thrown over his shoulders, holds a soft grey felt hat in one hand and a thick knotted stick in the other. ELLA RENTHEIM carries her cloak over her arm. MRS.

BORKMAN's great shawl has slipped down over her shoulders, so that her hair is uncovered.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Barring the way for MRS. BORKMAN.] Don't go after him, Gunhild!

MRS. BORKMAN.