Brovik.
[Looks at him with covert hatred, and says hoarsely.] You had learned little enough of the business when you were in my employment. But that did not prevent you from setting to work—[breathing with difficulty]—and pushing your way up, and taking the wind out of my sails—mine, and so many other people's.
Solness.
Yes, you see—circumstances favoured me.
Brovik.
You are right there. Everything favoured you. But then how can you have the heart to let me go to my grave—without having seen what Ragnar is fit for? And of course I am anxious to see them married, too—before I go.
Solness.
[Sharply.] Is it she who wishes it?
Brovik.
Not Kaia so much as Ragnar—he talks about it everyday. [Appealingly.] You must—you must help him to get some independent work now! I must see something that the lad has done. Do you hear?
Solness.
[Peevishly.] Hang it, man, you can't expect me to drag commissions down from the moon for him!
Brovik.
He has the chance of a capital commission at this very moment. A big bit of work.
