Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/126

 The Guests.

[For the most part in painful embarrassment.]

The Chamberlain! Chamberlain Bratsberg!

The Chamberlain.

Ladies! Gentlemen! [Softly.] Thora!

Thora.

Father!

The Chamberlain.

Oh, Doctor, Doctor, what have you done

Stensgård.

[With his glass in his handy radiant with self-satisfaction.] Now to our places again! Hullo, Fieldbo! Come, join in—join in the League of Youth! The game's going merrily!

Heire.

[In front, on the left.] Yes, on my soul, the game's going merrily!

[Lundestad slips out by the door in the back.