EYOLF. To bite it?
THE RAT-WIFE. Why, because they couldn't keep body and soul together on account of the rats and all the little rat-children, you see, young master.
RITA. Ugh! Poor people! Have they so many of them?
THE RAT-WIFE. Yes, it was all alive and swarming with them. [Laughs with quiet glee.] They came creepy-crawly up into the beds all night long. They plumped into the milk-cans, and they went pittering and pattering all over the floor, backwards and forwards, and up and down.
EYOLF. [Softly, to ASTA.] I shall never go there, Auntie.
THE RAT-WIFE. But then I came—I, and another along with me. And we took them with us, every one—the sweet little creatures! We made an end of every one of them.
EYOLF. [With a shriek.] Papa—look! look!
RITA. Good Heavens, Eyolf!
ALLMERS. What's the matter?
EYOLF. [Pointing.] There's something wriggling in the bag!