Well, he may possibly put up for the Professorship against you, and, though you are an uncommonly clever man of letters—for a Norwegian—it's not wholly improbable that he may cut you out!
George.
But, look here, good Lord, Judge Brack!—[gesticulating]—that would show an incredible want of consideration for me! I married on my chance of getting that professorship. A man like Lövborg, too, who hasn't even been respectable, eh? One doesn't do such things as that!
Brack.
Really? You forget we are all realistic and unconventional persons here, and do all kinds of odd things. But don't worry yourself!
[He goes out.
George.
[To Hedda.] Oh, I say, Hedda, what's to become of our fairyland now, eh? We can't have a liveried servant, or give dinner parties, or have a horse for riding. Fancy that!
Hedda.
[Slowly, and wearily.] No, we shall really have to set up as fairies in reduced circumstances, now.