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Lövborg.
Yes. I have not torn it to pieces—nor thrown it into the fiord.
Hedda.
No, no. But—where is it then?
Lövborg.
I have destroyed it none the less—utterly destroyed it, Hedda!
Hedda. I don't understand.
Lövborg.
Thea said that what I had done seemed to her like a child-murder.
Hedda. Yes, so she said.
Lövborg.
But to kill his child—that is not the worst thing a father can do to it.
Hedda. Not the worst?
Lövborg.
No. I wanted to spare Thea from hearing the worst.
Hedda.
Then what is the worst?
Lövborg.
Suppose now, Hedda, that a man—in the small hours of the morning—came home to his child's mother after a night of riot and debauchery, and
