f! Eyolf! Oh, but they must save him!

ALLMERS. [Half distracted.] They must, they must! So precious a life!

[He rushes down through the garden.]

ACT SECOND

[A little narrow glen by the side of the fiord, on ALLMERS'S property.
On the left, lofty old trees overarch the spot. Down the slope in the
background a brook comes leaping, and loses itself among the stones on
the margin of the wood. A path winds along by the brook-side. To the
right there are only a few single trees, between which the fiord is
visible. In front is seen the corner of a boat-shed with a boat drawn
up. Under the old trees on the left stands a table with a bench and one
or two chairs, all made of thin birch-staves. It is a heavy, damp day,
with driving mist wreaths.]

[ALFRED ALLMERS, dressed as before, sits on the bench, leaning his arms
on the table. His hat lies before him. He gazes absently and immovably
out over the water.]

[Presently ASTA ALLMERS comes down the woodpath. She is carrying an open
umbrella.]

ASTA. [Goes quietly and cautiously up to him.] You ought not to sit down
here in this gloomy weather, Alfred.

ALLMERS. [Nods slowly without answering.]

ASTA. [Closing her umbrella.] I have been searching for you such a long
time.

ALLMERS. [Without expression.] Thank you.

ASTA. [Moves a chair and seats herself close to him.] Have you been
sitting here long? All the time?

ALLMERS. [Does not answer at first. Presently he says.] No, I cannot
grasp it. It seems so utterly impossible.

ASTA. [Laying her hand compassionately on his arm.] Poor Alfred!

ALLMERS. [Gazing at her.] Is it really true then, Asta? Or have I gone
mad? Or am I only dreaming? Oh, if it were only a dream! Just think, if
I were to waken now!

ASTA. Oh, if I could only waken you!

ALLMERS. [Looking out over the water.] How pitiless the fiord looks
to-day, lying so heavy and drowsy--leaden-grey--with splashes of
yellow--and reflecting the rain-clouds.

ASTA. [Imploringly.] Oh, Alfred, don't sit staring out over the fiord!

ALLMERS. [Not heeding her.] Over the surface, yes. But in the
depths--there sweeps the rushing undertow--

ASTA. [In terror.] Oh, for God's sake don't think of the depths!

ALLMERS. [Looking gently at her.] I suppose you think he is lying close
outside here? But he is not, Asta. You must not think that. You must
remember how fiercely the current sweeps gut here straight to the open
sea.

ASTA. [Throws herself forward ag