[_With pain._] Oh, if you were in my place—— [_The conversation amongst the Guests, which has been carried on in a low tone, now swells into constrained joviality._] THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN. [_Approaching HIALMAR and GREGERS in a friendly manner._] Aha! Reviving old college memories, eh? Don’t you smoke, Mr. Ekdal? May I give you a light? Oh, by-the-bye, we mustn’t—— HIALMAR. No, thank you, I won’t—— THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN. Haven’t you a nice little poem you could recite to us, Mr. Ekdal? You used to recite so charmingly. HIALMAR. I am sorry I can’t remember anything. THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN. Oh, that’s a pity. Well, what shall we do, Balle? [_Both Gentlemen move away and pass into the other room._ HIALMAR. [_Gloomily._] Gregers—I am going! When a man has felt the crushing hand of Fate, you see——Say good-bye to your father for me. GREGERS. Yes, yes. Are you going straight home? HIALMAR. Yes. Why? GREGERS. Oh, because I may perhaps look in on you later. HIALMAR. No, you mustn’t do that. You must not come to my home. Mine is a melancholy abode, Gregers; especially after a splendid banquet like this. We can always arrange to meet somewhere in the town. MRS. SÖRBY. [_Who has quietly approached._] Are you going, Ekdal? HIALMAR. Yes. MRS. SÖRBY. Remember me to Gina. HIALMAR. Thanks. MRS. SÖRBY. And say I am coming up to see her one of these days. HIALMAR. Yes, thank you. [_To GREGERS._] Stay here; I will slip out unobserved. [_He saunters away, then into the other room, and so out to the right._ MRS. SÖRBY. [_Softly to the Servant, who has come back._] Well, did you give the old man something? PETTERSEN. Yes; I sent him off with a bottle of cognac. MRS. SÖRBY. Oh, you might have thought of something better than that. PETTERSEN. Oh no, Mrs. Sörby; cognac is what he likes best in the world. THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN. [_In the doorway with a sheet of music in his hand._] Shall we play a duet, Mrs. Sörby? MRS. SÖRBY. Yes, suppose we do. THE GUESTS. Bravo, bravo!