an amiable illusion.
Hedda
Illusion?
Brack
Which could not have lasted long in any case.
Hedda
What do you mean?
Brack
Eilert Lövborg did not shoot himself—voluntarily.
Hedda
Not voluntarily?
Brack
No. The thing did not happen exactly as I told it.
Hedda
In suspense. Have you concealed something? What is it?
Brack
For poor Mrs. Elvsted’s sake I idealised the facts a little.
Hedda
What are the facts?
Brack
First, that he is already dead.
Hedda
At the hospital?
Brack
Yes—without regaining consciousness.
Hedda
What more have you concealed?
Brack
This—the event did not happen at his lodgings.
Hedda
Oh, that can make no difference.
Brack
Perhaps it may. For I must tell you—Eilert Lövborg was found shot in—in Mademoiselle Diana’s boudoir.
Hedda
Makes a motion as if to rise, but sinks back again. That is impossible, Judge Brack! He cannot have been there again today.
Brack
He was there this afternoon. He went there, he said, to demand the return of something which they had taken from him. Talked wildly about a lost child—
Hedda
Ah—so that is why—
Brack
I thought probably he meant his manuscript; but now I hear he destroyed that himself. So I suppose it must have been his pocketbook.
Hedda
Yes, no doubt. And there—there he was found?
Brack
Yes, there. With a pistol in his breast pocket, discharged. The ball had lodged in a vital part.
Hedda
In the breast—yes?
Brack
No—in the bowels.
Hedda
Looks up at him with an expression of loathing. That too! Oh, what curse is it that makes everything I touch turn ludicrous and mean?
Brack
There is one point more, Mrs. Hedda—another disagreeable feature in the affair.
Hedda
And what is that?
Brack
The pistol he carried—
Hedda
Breathless. Well? What of it?
Brack
He must have stolen it.
Hedda
Leaps up. Stolen it! That is not true! He did not steal it!
Brack
No other explanation is possible. He must have stolen it—. Hush!
Tesman and Mrs. Elvsted have risen from the table in the back room, and come into the drawing room.
Tesman
With the papers in both his hands. Hedda, dear, it is almost impossible to see under that lamp. Think of that!
Hedda
Yes, I am thinking.
Tesman
Would you mind our sitting at you writing table—eh?
Hedda
If you like. Quickly. No, wait! Let me clear it first!
Tesman
Oh, you needn’t trouble, Hedda. There is plenty of room.
Hedda
No no, let me clear it, I say! I will take these things in and put them on the piano. There!
She has drawn out an object, covered with sheet music, from under the bookcase, places several other pieces of music upon it, and carries the whole into the inner room, to the left. Tesman lays the scraps of paper on the writing table, and moves the lamp there from the corner table. He and Mrs. Elvsted sit down and proceed with their work. Hedda returns.
Hedda
Behind Mrs. Elvsted’s chair, gently ruffling her hair. Well, my sweet Thea—how goes it with Eilert Lövborg’s monument?
Mrs. Elvsted
Looks dispiritedly up at her. Oh, it will be terribly hard to put in order.
Tesman
We must manage it. I am determined. And arranging other people’s papers is just the work for me.
Hedda goes over to the stove, and seats herself on one of the footstools. Brack stands over her, leaning on the armchair.
Hedda
Whispers. What did you say about the pistol?
Brack
Softly. That he must have stolen it.
Hedda
Why stolen it?
Brack
Because every other explanation ought to be impossible, Mrs. Hedda.
Hedda
Indeed?
Brack
Glances at her. Of course Eilert Lövborg was here this morning. Was he not?
Hedda
Yes.
Brack
Were you alone with him?
Hedda
Part of the time.
Brack
Did you not leave the room whilst he was here?
Hedda
No.
Brack
Try to recollect. Were you not out of the room a moment?
Hedda
Yes, perhaps just a moment—out in the hall.
Brack
And where was you pistol case during that time?
Hedda
I had it locked up in—
Brack
Well, Mrs. Hedda?
Hedda
The case stood there on the writing table.
Brack
Have you looked since, to see whether both the pistols are there?
Hedda
No.
Brack
Well, you need not. I saw the pistol found in Lövborg’s pocket, and I knew it at once as the one I had seen yesterday—and before, too.
Hedda
Have you it with you?
Brack
No; the police have it.
Hedda
What will the police do with it?
Brack
Search till they find the owner.
Hedda
Do you think they will succeed?
Brack
Bends over her and whispers. No, Hedda Gabler—not so long as I say nothing.
Hedda
Looks frightened at him. And if you do not say nothing—what then?
Brack
Shrugs his shoulders. There is always the possibility that the pistol was stolen.
Hedda
Firmly. Death rather than that.
Brack
Smiling. People say such things—but they don’t do them.
Hedda
Without replying. And supposing the pistol was not stolen, and the owner is discovered? What then?
Brack
Well, Hedda—then comes the scandal!
Hedda
The scandal!
Brack
Yes, the scandal—of which you are so mortally afraid. You will, of course, be brought before the court—both you and Mademoiselle Diana. She will have to explain how the thing happened—whether it was an accidental shot or murder. Did the pistol go off as he was trying to take it out of his pocket, to threaten her with? Or did she tear the pistol out of his hand, shoot him, and push it back into his pocket? That would be quite like her; for she is an able-bodied young person, this same Mademoiselle Diana.
Hedda
But I have nothing to do with all this repulsive business.
Brack
No. But you will have to answer the question: Why did you give Eilert the pistol? And what conclusions will people draw from the fact that you did give it to him?
Hedda
Lets her head sink. That is true. I did not think of that.
Brack
Well, fortunately, there is no danger, so long as I say nothing.
Hedda
Looks up at him. So I am in your power, Judge Brack. You have me at your beck and call, from this time forward.
Brack
Whispers softly. Dearest Hedda—believe me—I shall not abuse my
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