Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/161

 Tesman.

And then how pitiful to think that he—with all his gifts—should be irreclaimable, after all.

Hedda.

I suppose you mean that he has more courage than the rest?

Tesman.

No, not at all—I mean that he is incapable of taking his pleasures in moderation.

Hedda.

And what came of it all—in the end?

Tesman.

Well, to tell the truth, I think it might best be described as an orgie, Hedda.

Hedda.

Had he vine-leaves in his hair?

Tesman.

Vine-leaves? No, I saw nothing of the sort. But he made a long, rambling speech in honour of the woman who had inspired him in his work—that was the phrase he used.

Hedda.

Did he name her?

Tesman.

No, he didn't; but I can't help thinking he meant Mrs. Elvsted. You may be sure he did.

Hedda.

Well—where did you part from him?