Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/128

 stand there looking as if you were thunder-*struck

Tesman.

Yes—so I am—I almost think

Brack.

Don't you see, Mrs. Tesman, a thunderstorm has just passed over?

Hedda.

[Pointing towards the inner room.] Will you not take a glass of cold punch, gentlemen?

Brack.

[Looking at his watch.] A stirrup-cup? Yes, it wouldn't come amiss.

Tesman.

A capital idea, Hedda! Just the thing! Now that the weight has been taken off my mind

Hedda.

Will you not join them, Mr. Lövborg?

Lövborg.

[With a gesture of refusal.] No, thank you. Nothing for me.

Brack.

Why bless me—cold punch is surely not poison.

Lövborg.

Perhaps not for every one.

Hedda.

I will keep Mr. Lövborg company in the meantime.