KNUT BROVIK.

[Rises suddenly, as if in distress, from the table; breathes heavily
and laboriously as he comes forward into the doorway.] No, I can't
bear it much longer!

KAIA.

[Going up to him.] You are feeling very ill this evening, are you
not, Uncle?


BROVIK.

Oh, I seem to get worse every day.


RAGNAR.

[Has risen and advances.] You ought to go home, father. Try to get
a little sleep---


BROVIK.

[Impatiently.] Go to bed, I suppose? Would you have me stifled
outright?


KAIA.