_Brack_. Yes, we're realistic types of human nature, and all that--but a trifle squalid, perhaps. And why did you give LÖVBORG your pistol, when it was certain to be traced by the police? For a charming cold-blooded woman with a clear head and no scruples, wasn't it just a leetle foolish? _Hedda_. Perhaps; but I wanted him to do it beautifully, and he didn't! Oh, I've just admitted that I _did_ give him the pistol--how annoyingly unwise of me! Now I'm in _your_ power, I suppose? _Brack_. Precisely--for some reason it's not easy to understand. But it's inevitable, and you know how you dread anything approaching scandal. All your past proceedings show that. (_To_ GEORGE _and_ Mrs. E., _who come in together from the back-room._) Well, how are you getting on with the reconstruction of poor LÖVBORG'S great work, eh? [Illustration: "What! the accounts of all those everlasting bores settled?"] _George_. Capitally; we've made out the first two parts already. And really, HEDDA, I do believe Mrs. ELVSTED _is_ inspiring me; I begin to feel it coming on. Fancy that! _Mrs. E._ Yes, goodness! HEDDA, _won't_ it be lovely if I can. I mean to try _so_ hard! _Hedda_. Do, you dear little silly rabbit; and while you are trying I will go into the back drawing-room and lie down. [_She goes into the back-room and draws the curtains. Short pause. Suddenly she is heard playing_ "The Bogie Man" _within on the piano._ _George_. But, dearest HEDDA, don't play "_The Bogie Man_" this evening. As one of my aunts is dead, and poor old LÖVBORG has shot himself, it seems just a little pointed, eh? _Hedda_ (_puts her head out between the curtains_). All right! I'll be quiet after this. I'm going to practise with the late General GABLER'S pistol! [_Closes the curtains again_; GEORGE _gets behind the stove_, Judge BRACK _under the table, and_ Mrs. ELVSTED _under the sofa. A shot is heard within._ _George_ (_behind the stove_). Eh, look here, I tell you what--she's hit _me!_ Think of that! [_His legs are visibly agitated for a short time. Another shot is heard._ _Mrs. E._ (_under the sofa_). Oh, please, not me! Oh, goodness, now I can't inspire anybody any more. Oh! [_Her feet, which can be seen under the valance, quiver a little, and then are suddenly still._ _Brack_ (_vivaciously, from under the table_). I say, Mrs. HEDDA, I'm coming in every evening--we will have great fun here togeth-- (_Another shot is heard._) Bless me! to bring down the poor old cock-of-the-walk--it's unsportsmanlike!--it's--. [_The table-cloth is violently agitated for a minute, and presently the curtains open, and_ HEDDA _appears._ _Hedda_ (_clearly and firmly_). I've been trying in there to shoot myself beautifully--but with General GABLER'S pistol--(_She lifts the tablecloth, then looks behind the stove and under the sofa._) What! the accounts of all those everlasting bores settled? Then my suicide becomes unnecessary. Yes, I feel the courage of life once more!