Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/166

 Helmer.

No, no; not to-night. I want to be with you, my sweet wife.

Nora.

With the thought of your dying friend?

Helmer.

You are right. This has shaken us both. Unloveliness has come between us—thoughts of death and decay. We must seek to cast them off. Till then—we will remain apart.

Nora.

[Her arms round his neck.] Torvald! Goodnight! good-night!

Helmer.

[Kissing her forehead!] Good-night, my little song-bird. Sleep well, Nora. Now I shall go and read my letters.

[He goes with the letters in his hand into his room and shuts the door.

Nora.

[With wild eyes, gropes about her, seizes Helmer's domino, throws it round her, and whispers quickly, hoarsely, and brokenly.] Never to see him again. Never, never, never. [Throws her shawl over her head.] Never to see the children again. Never, never.—Oh that black, icy water! Oh that bottomless! If it were only over! Now he has it; he's reading it. Oh, no, no, no, not yet. Torvald, good-bye! Good-bye, my little ones!

[She is rushing out by the hall; at the same moment Helmer flings his door open, and stands there with an open letter in his hand.