Hjalmar (filling his glass). Come, father, have a little more.
Gregers. How can a man like you—such a man for an open-air life, live in the midst of a choking town, shut up between these four walls?
Ekdal (smiles slightly and glances at Hjalmar). Oh! it’s not so bad here. Not so bad.
Gregers. But all that had become part of you? The fresh, blowing breezes, the free life in the woods and the plains, among the beasts and birds?
Ekdal (smiling). Hjalmar, shall we show it him?
Hjalmar (quickly and somewhat embarrassed). Oh, no, no, father; not this evening.
Gregers. What does he want to show me?
Hjalmar. Oh! it’s only something—you can see it another time.
Gregers (continuing to the old man). So I was thinking, Lieutenant Ekdal, that you should come along with me up to the Works, for I shall certainly be leaving again shortly. You could easily get some copying to do there too. And here there’s absolutely nothing to make you comfortable and cheer you.
Ekdal (staring at him in astonishment). I’ve absolutely nothing.