[In a low tone.] Oh, Judge, what a relief to know that everything—including Lövborg's pistol—went off so well! In the breast! Isn't there a veil of unintentional beauty in that? Such an act of voluntary courage, too!
Brack.
[Smiles.] H'm!—perhaps, dear Mrs. Hedda——
Hedda.
[Enthusiastically.] But wasn't it sweet of him! To have the courage to live his own life after his own fashion—to break away from the banquet of life—so early and so drunk! A beautiful act like that does appeal to a superior woman's imagination!
Brack.
Sorry to shatter your poetical illusions, little Mrs. Hedda, but, as a matter of fact, our lamented friend met his end under other circumstances. The shot did not strike him in the breast—but——
[Pauses.
Hedda.
[Excitedly.] General Gabler's pistols! I might have known it! Did they ever shoot straight? Where was he hit, then?