[He pushes back sliding doors, and reveals a garret full of rabbits and poultry—moonlight effect. HEDVIG returns with bread and butter.
Hedvig (to GREGERS). If you stand just there, you get the best view of our Wild Duck. We are very proud of her, because she gives the play its title, you know, and has to be brought into the dialogue a good deal. Your father, peppered her out shooting, and we saved her life.
Hialmar. Yes, GREGERS, our estate is not large—but still we preserve, you see. And my poor old father and I sometimes get a day's gunning in the garret. He shoots with a pistol, which my illiterate wife here will call a "pigstol." He once, when he got into trouble, pointed it at himself. But the descendant of two lieutenant-colonels who had never quailed before living rabbit yet, faltered then. He didn't shoot. Then I put it to my own head. But at the decisive moment, I won the victory over myself. I remained in life. Now we only shoot rabbits and fowls with it. After all I am very happy and contented as I am. [He eats some bread and butter.
Gregers. But you ought not to be. You have a good deal of the Wild Duck about you. So have your wife and daughter. You are living in marsh vapours. To-morrow I will take you out for a walk and explain what I mean. It is my mission in life. Good night! [He goes out.
Gina and Hedwig. What was the gentleman talking about, Father?
Hialmar (eating bread and butter). He has been dining, you know. No matter—what we have to do now, is to put my disreputable old whitehaired pariah of a parent to bed.
[He and GINA lift old ECCLES—we mean old EKDAL—up by the legs and arms, and take him off to led as the Curtain falls.
COCKNEY MOTTO FOR A FEEBLE CRICKETER.—"Take 'Art of GRACE!"