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Ella Rentheim.
No.
Mrs. Borkman.
[Relieved.] Not by his own hand then? Ella Rentheim. No. It was an ice-cold metal hand that gripped him by the heart. Mrs. Borkman. [To The Maid.] Go for help. Get the men to come up from the farm. The Maid. Yes, I will, ma'am. [To herself.] Lord save us! [She goes out through the wood to the right.
Mrs. Borkman.
[Standing behind the bench.] So the night air has killed him
Ella Rentheim.
So it appears.
Mrs. Borkman.
strong man that he was.
Ella Rentheim.
[Coming in front of the bench.] Will you not look at him, Gunhild?
Mrs. Borkman.
[With a gesture of repulsion.] No, no, no. [Lowering her voice.] He was a miner's son,
