Ekdal. Did you? No, no, no; I don't remember it. But sure enough I've been a tidy bit of a sportsman in my day. I've shot bears too. I've shot nine of 'em, no less.
Gregers. [Looking sympathetically at him.] And now you never get any shooting?
Ekdal. Can't just say that, sir. Get a shot now and then perhaps. Of course not in the old way. For the woods you see—the woods, the woods! [Drinks.] Are the woods fine up there now?
Gregers. Not so fine as in your time. They have been thinned a good deal.
Ekdal. Thinned? [More softly, and as if afraid.] It's dangerous work that. Bad things come of it. The woods revenge themselves.
Hialmar. [Filling up his glass.] Come—a little more, father.
Gregers. How can a man like you—such a man for the open air—live in the midst of a stuffy town, boxed within four walls?
Ekdal. [Laughs quietly and glances at Hialmar.] Oh, it's not so bad here. Not at all so bad.
