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. [He is on the point of going.
HEDDA.
No, wait! I must give you a memento to take with you. [She goes to the writing-table and opens the drawer and the 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. [HEDDA listens for a moment at the door. Then she goes up to 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.
