from head to foot.] Aha! so that was what the
party meant?

MRS. WILTON.
[Smiling.] Yes, Erhart and I were the whole party. And little
Frida, of course.

MRS. BORKMAN.
And where is she now?

MRS. WILTON.
She is sitting in the sledge waiting for us.

ERHART.
[In painful embarrassment.] 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 assure 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 ha