Go to bed! [Mrs. E. goes. Enter GEORGE.

George. I'm a little late, eh? But we made such a night of it. Fancy! It was most amusing. EJLERT read his book to me—think of that! Astonishing book! Oh, we really had great fun! I wish I'd written it. Pity he's so irreclaimable.

Hedda. I suppose you mean he has more of the courage of life than most people?

George. Good Lord! He had the courage to get more drunk than most people. But, altogether, it was what you might almost call a Bacchanalian orgy. We finished up by going to have early coffee with some of these jolly chaps, and poor old LÖVBORG dropped his precious manuscript in the mud, and I picked it up—and here it is! Fancy if anything were to happen to it! He never could write it again. Wouldn't it be sad, eh? Don't tell anyone about it.

[He leaves the packet of MSS. on a chair, and rushes out; HEDDA hides the packet as BRACK enters.

Brack. Another early call, you see! My party was such a singularly animated soirée that I haven't undressed all night. Oh, it was the liveliest affair conceivable! And, like a true Norwegian host, I tracked LÖVBORG home; and it is only my duty, as a friend of the house, and cock of the walk, to take the first opportunity of telling you that he finished up the evening by coming to mere loggerheads with a red-haired opera-singer, and being taken off to the police-station! You mustn't have him here any more. Remember our little triple alliance!

Hedda (her smile fading away). You are certainly a dangerous person—but you must not get a hold over me!

Brack (ambiguously). What an idea! But I might—I am an insinuating dog. Good morning! [Goes out.

Lövborg (bursting in, confused and excited). I suppose you've heard where I've been?

Hedda (evasively). I heard you had a very jolly party at Judge BRACK's. [Mrs. ELVSTED comes in.

Lövborg. It's all over. I don't mean to do any more work. I've no use for a companion now, THEA. Go home to your Sheriff!

Mrs. E. (agitated). Never! I want to be with you when your book comes out!

Lövborg. It won't come out—I've torn it up! (Mrs. E. rushes out, wringing her hands.) Mrs. TESMAN, I told her a lie—but no matter. I haven't torn my book up—I've done worse! I've taken it about to several parties, and it's been through a police-row with me—now I've lost it. Even if I found it again, it wouldn't be the same—not to me! I am a Norwegian literary man, and peculiar. So I must make an end of it altogether!

Hedda. Quite so—but look here, you must do it beautifully. I don't insist on your putting vine-leaves in your hair—but do it beautifully. (Fetches pistol.) See, here is one of General GABLER's pistols—do it with that!

Lövborg. Thanks!

[He takes the pistol, and goes out through the hall-door; as soon as he has gone, HEDDA brings out the manuscript, and puts it on the fire, whispering to herself, as Curtain falls.

CAN A MAN IMPRISON HIS WIFE?

(An Autobiographical Consideration of the Question, by an Eminent Legal Authority.)

Summing Up.

It may be remembered that (I trust) in deserved acknowledgment of my professional pre-eminence, I received, some little while ago, the appointment of a Deputy-Assistant-Revising-Barristership. In performing the duties of this important office, I sometimes have to incur bodily risk—the more especially when I have to distinguish between the rival claims of the political parties that I am sorry to say have made Lambville-cum-Minton the antithesis of heaven upon earth. On the occasion to which I particularly wish to refer, I was accompanied by my Wife, to my secret annoyance, as I am afraid the Lady who does me the honour to share my name is unduly apprehensive of my safety, and, besides this general plea, I had yet another special reason for desiring her absence. To tell the truth, I had been greatly moved by a decision given in the Court of Appeal, whereby it seemed to me (and no doubt to many of my learned friends) the custody of a wife by her husband had become an empty phrase, signifying nothing. I felt that if, by any means, I could get this judgment set aside, I would not only confer upon myself, as a married man, a signal benefit, but, moreover, as a Counsel, obtain increased professional distinction. However, I was embarrassed by the presence of my Wife, when I came to consider the best mode in which marital authority might be assumed to raise the question of the right of habeas corpus. I had returned to my room before the opening of the Registration Court at Lambville-cum-Minton, in rather a disturbed frame of mind. Truth to tell, my Wife, having learned that political feeling was rising so high in the town that it was possible that the Deputy-Assistant-Revising-Barrister might be assaulted by either or both of the rival factions, had done her best to dissuade me from taking my customary seat.

"What shall I do, to say nothing of the darling children, if you are brought home on a hurdle?" she sobbed out.

I assured her that there was a very remote risk of my succumbing to such a fate, as the conveyance home on a hurdle raised the presumption that the victim had been hunting, a sport in which I seldom, I may say, never indulged. But this explanation did not reassure her, and she left me in tears. Her emotion caused me much pain, the more especially as my proposed task seemed to me, under the circumstances, a species of domestic treason. However, I hardened my heart, and sat down to consider the facts of the case. To allow the right of seizure to be argued, it would be necessary to take my Wife out of the custody of someone other than myself. Her mother, a most estimable old lady, with whom I have had many a pleasant and exciting game of backgammon, seemed a right and proper person to assist me in carrying out my project. But the objection immediately occurred to me that it would be an exceedingly difficult matter to induce her to hold my Wife from me unless I desired her to take such a course. But if I made this request, would not the proceeding savour of collusion? To meet this obstacle I came to the conclusion that I might get my Wife to pay a visit to her mother, and then, appropriately disguised, seize and carry her off. By locking her in the conveyance and riding on the box, I could preserve my incognito until reaching home, and then I might confine her in her own room with assumed harshness, and possibly (of this I had some doubt) get her to complain of her imprisonment. By keeping my Wife's domicile a close secret, her mother would be induced to visit me to ask my professional assistance in recovering her daughter. Thus approached it would be possible to so advise the old lady that in the result she would demand my Wife's presence in Court under a writ of habeas corpus. Then would come my opportunity. Of course I would produce my Wife, and having carefully prepared my arguments, would deliver an oration that would fill columns of the newspapers, and hand down my name to generations to come as the authority on marital rights. I saw in the near future wealth and restored domestic happiness. But the first thing to do was to lock up my Wife. And at this point it occurred to me that it was time for me to walk over to the Revision Court. I hastily gathered certain necessary articles into my brief-bag, and putting on my hat, grasped the handle of the door. To