TEKLA. [Shows agitation, but manages to...

TEKLA. [Shows agitation, but manages to control herself] Oh, is it you?

GUSTAV. Yes, it's me---I beg your pardon!

TEKLA. Which way did you come?

GUSTAV. By land. But---I am not going to stay, as---

TEKLA. Oh, there is no reason why you shouldn't.---Well, it was some time ago---

GUSTAV. Yes, some time.

TEKLA. You have changed a great deal.

GUSTAV. And you are as charming as ever, A little younger, if anything. Excuse me, however---I am not going to spoil your happiness by my presence. And if I had known you were here, I should never---

TEKLA. If you don't think it improper, I should like you to stay.

GUSTAV. On my part there could be no objection, but I fear---well, whatever I say, I am sure to offend you.

TEKLA. Sit down a moment. You don't offend me, for you possess that rare gift---which was always yours---of tact and politeness.

GUSTAV. It's very kind of you. But one could hardly expect---that your husband might regard my qualities in the same generous light as you.

TEKLA. On the contrary, he has just been speaking of you in very sympathetic terms.

GUSTAV. Oh!---Well, everything becomes covered up by time, like names cut in a tree---and not even dislike can maintain itself permanently in our minds.

TEKLA. He has never disliked you, for he has never seen you. And as for me, I have always cherished a dream---that of seeing you come together as friends---or at least of seeing you meet for once in my presence---of seeing you shake hands---and then go your different ways again.

GUSTAV. It has also been my secret longing to see her whom I used to love more than my own life---to make sure that she was in good hands. And although I have heard nothing but good of him, and am familiar with all his work, I should nevertheless have liked, before it grew too late, to look into his eyes and beg him to take good care of the treasure Providence has placed in his possession. In that way I hoped also to lay the hatred that must have developed instinctively between us; I wished to bring some peace and humility into my soul, so that I might manage to live through the rest of my sorrowful days.

TEKLA. You have uttered my own thoughts, and you have understood me. I thank you for it!

GUSTAV. Oh, I am a man of small account, and have always been too insignificant to keep you in the shadow. My monotonous way of living, my drudgery, my narrow horizons---all that could not satisfy a soul like yours, longing for liberty. I admit it. But you understand---you who have searched the human soul---what it cost me to make such a confession to myself.

TEKLA. It is noble, it is splendid, to acknowledge one's own shortcomings---and it's not everybody that's capable of it. [Sighs] But yours has always been an honest, and faithful, and reliable nature---one that I had to respect---but---

GUSTAV. Not always---not at that time! But suffering purifies, sorrow ennobles, and---I have suffered!

TEKLA. Poor Gustav! Can you forgive me? Tell me, can you?

GUSTAV. Forgive? What? I am the one who must ask you to forgive.

TEKLA. [Changing tone] I believe we are crying, both of us---we who are old enough to know better!

GUSTAV. [Feeling his way] Old? Yes, I am old. But you---you grow younger every day.

(He has by that time manoeuvred himself up to the chair on the left and sits down on it, whereupon TEKLA sits down on the sofa.)

TEKLA. Do you think so?

GUSTAV. And then you know how to dress.

TEKLA. I learned that from you. Don't you remember how you figured out what colors would be most becoming to me?

GUSTAV. No.

TEKLA. Yes, don't you remember---hm!---I can even recall how you used to be angry with me whenever I failed to have at least a touch of crimson about my dress.

GUSTAV. No, not angry! I was never angry with you.

TEKLA. Oh, yes, when you wanted to teach me how to think---do you remember? For that was something I couldn't do at all.

GUSTAV. Of course, you could. It's something every human being does. And you have become quite keen at it---at least when you write.

TEKLA. [Unpleasantly impressed; hurrying her words] Well, my dear Gustav, it is pleasant to see you anyhow, and especially in a peaceful way like this.

GUSTAV. Well, I can hardly be called a troublemaker, and you had a pretty peaceful time with me.

TEKLA. Perhaps too much so.

GUSTAV. Oh! But you see, I thought you wanted me that way. It was at least the impression you gave me while we were engaged.

TEKLA. Do you think one really knows what one wants at that time? And then the mammas insist on all kinds of pretensions, of course.

GUSTAV. Well, now you must be having all the excitement you can wish. They say that life among artists is rather swift, and I don't think your husband can be called a sluggard.

TEKLA. You can get too much of a good thing.

GUSTAV. [Trying a new tack] What! I do believe you are still wearing the ear-rings I gave you?

TEKLA. [Embarrassed] Why not? There was never any quarrel between us---and then I thought I might wear them as a token---and a reminder---that we were not enemies. And then, you know, it is impossible to buy this kind of ear-rings any longer. [Takes off one of her ear-rings.]

GUSTAV. Oh, that's all right, but what does your husband say of it?

TEKLA. Why should I mind what he says?

GUSTAV. Don't you mind that?---But you may be doing him an injury. It is likely to make him ridiculous.

TEKLA. [Brusquely, as if speaking to herself almost] He was that before!

GUSTAV. [Rises when he notes her difficulty in putting back the ear-ring] May I help you, perhaps?

TEKLA. Oh---thank you!

GUSTAV. [Pinching her ear] That tiny ear!---Think only if your husband could see us now!

TEKLA. Wouldn't he howl, though!

GUSTAV. Is he jealous also?

TEKLA. Is he? I should say so!

[A noise is heard from the room on the right.]

GUSTAV. Who lives in that room?

TEKLA. I don't know.---But tell me how you are getting along and what you are doing?

GUSTAV. Tell me rather how you are getting along?

(TEKLA is visibly confused, and without realising what she is doing, she takes the cover off the wax figure.)

GUSTAV. Hello! What's that?---Well!---It must be you!

TEKLA. I don't believe so.

GUSTAV. But it is very like you.

TEKLA. [Cynically] Do you think so?

GUSTAV. That reminds me of the story---you know it---"How could your majesty see that?"

TEKLA, [Laughing aloud] You are impossible!---Do you know any new stories?

GUSTAV. No, but you ought to have some.

TEKLA. Oh, I never hear anything funny nowadays.

GUSTAV. Is he modest also?

TEKLA. Oh---well---

GUSTAV. Not an everything?

TEKLA. He isn't well just now.

GUSTAV. Well, why should little brother put his nose into other people's hives?

TEKLA. [Laughing] You crazy thing!

GUSTAV. Poor chap!---Do you remember once when we were just married---we lived in this very room. It was furnished differently in those days. There was a chest of drawers against that wall there---and over there stood the big bed.

TEKLA. Now you stop!

GUSTAV. Look at me!

TEKLA. Well, why shouldn't I?

[They look hard at each other.]

GUSTAV. Do you think a person can ever forget anything that has made a very deep impression on him?

TEKLA. No! And our memories have a tremendous power. Particularly the memories of our youth.

GUSTAV. Do you remember when I first met you? Then you were a pretty little girl: a slate on which parents and governesses had made a few scrawls that I had to wipe out. And then I filled it with inscriptions that suited my own mind, until you believed the slate could hold nothing more. That's the reason, you know, why I shouldn't care to be in your husband's place---well, that's his business! But it's also the reason why I take pleasure in meeting you again. Our thoughts fit together exactly. And as I sit here and chat with you, it seems to me like drinking old wine of my own bottling. Yes, it's my own wine, but it has gained a great deal in flavour! And now, when I am about to marry again, I have purposely picked out a young girl whom I can educate to suit myself. For the woman, you know, is the man's child, and if she is not, he becomes hers, and then the world turns topsy-turvy.

TEKLA. Are you going to marry again?

GUSTAV. Yes, I want to try my luck once more, but this time I am going to make a better start, so that it won't end again with a spill.

TEKLA. Is she good looking?

GUSTAV. Yes, to me. But perhaps I am too old. It's queer---now when chance has brought me together with you again---I am beginning to doubt whether it will be possible to play the game over again.

TEKLA. How do you mean?

GUSTAV. I can feel that my roots stick in your soil, and the old wounds are beginning to break open. You are a dangerous woman, Tekla!

TEKLA. Am I? And my young husband says that I can make no more conquests.

GUSTAV. That means he has ceased to love you.

TEKLA. Well, I can't quite make out what love means to him.

GUSTAV. You have been playing hide and seek so long that at last you cannot find each other at all. Such things do happen. You have had to play the innocent to yourself, until he has lost his courage. There ARE some drawbacks to a change, I tell you---there are drawbacks to it, indeed.

TEKLA. Do you mean to reproach---

GUSTAV. Not at all! Whatever happens is to a certain extent necessary, for if it didn't happen, something else would---but now it did happen, and so it had to happen.

TEKLA. YOU are a man of discernment. And I have never met anybody with whom I liked so much to exchange ideas. You are so utterly free from all morality and preaching, and you ask so little of people, that it is possible to be oneself in your presence. Do you know, I am jealous of your intended wife!

GUSTAV. And do you realise that I am jealous of your husband?

TEKLA. [Rising] And now we must part! Forever!

GUSTAV. Yes, we must part! But not without a farewell---or what do you say?

TEKLA. [Agitated] No!

GUSTAV. [Following after her] Yes!---Let us have a farewell! Let us drown our memories---you know, there are intoxications so deep that when you wake up all memories are gone. [Putting his arm around her waist] You have been dragged down by a diseased spirit, who is infecting you with his own anaemia. I'll breathe new life into you. I'll make your talent blossom again in your autumn days, like a remontant rose. I'll------

(Two LADIES in travelling dress are seen in the doorway leading to the veranda. They look surprised. Then they point at those within, laugh, and disappear.)

TEKLA. [Freeing herself] Who was that?

GUSTAV. [Indifferently] Some tourists.

TEKLA. Leave me alone! I am afraid of you!

GUSTAV. Why?

TEKLA. You take my soul away from me!

GUSTAV. And give you my own in its place! And you have no soul for that matter---it's nothing but a delusion.

TEKLA. You have a way of saying impolite things so that nobody can be angry with you.

GUSTAV. It's because you feel that I hold the first mortgage on you---Tell me now, when---and---where?

TEKLA. No, it wouldn't be right to him. I think he is still in love with me, and I don't want to do any more harm.

GUSTAV. He does not love you! Do you want proofs?

TEKLA, Where can you get them?

GUSTAV. [Picking up the pieces of the photograph from the floor] Here! See for yourself!

TEKLA. Oh, that's an outrage!

GUSTAV. Do you see? Now then, when? And where?

TEKLA. The false-hearted wretch!

GUSTAV. When?

TEKLA. He leaves to-night, with the eight-o'clock boat.

GUSTAV. And then---

TEKLA. At nine! [A noise is heard from the adjoining room] Who can be living in there that makes such a racket?

GUSTAV. Let's see! [Goes over and looks through the keyhole] There's a table that has been upset, and a smashed water caraffe---that's all! I shouldn't wonder if they had left a dog locked up in there.---At nine o'clock then?

TEKLA. All right! And let him answer for it himself.---What a depth of deceit! And he who has always preached about truthfulness, and tried to teach me to tell the truth!---But wait a little---how was it now? He received me with something like hostility---didn't meet me at the landing---and then---and then he made some remark about young men on board the boat, which I pretended not to hear---but how could he know? Wait---and then he began to philosophise about women---and then the spectre of you seemed to be haunting him---and he talked of becoming a sculptor, that being the art of the time---exactly in accordance with your old speculations!

GUSTAV. No, really!

TEKLA. No, really?---Oh, now I understand! Now I begin to see what a hideous creature you are! You have been here before and stabbed him to death! It was you who had been sitting there on the sofa; it was you who made him think himself an epileptic---that he had to live in celibacy; that he ought to rise in rebellion against his wife; yes, it was you!---How long have you been here?

GUSTAV. I have been here a week.

TEKLA. It was you, then, I saw on board the boat?

GUSTAV. It was.

TEKLA. And now you were thinking you could trap me?

GUSTAV. It has been done.

TEKLA. Not yet!

GUSTAV. Yes!

TEKLA. Like a wolf you went after my lamb. You came here with a villainous plan to break up my happiness, and you were carrying it out, when my eyes were opened, and I foiled you.

GUSTAV. Not quite that way, if you please. This is how it happened in reality. Of course, it has been my secret hope that disaster might overtake you. But I felt practically certain that no interference on my part was required. And besides, I have been far too busy to have any time left for intriguing. But when I happened to be moving about a bit, and happened to see you with those young men on board the boat, then I guessed the time had come for me to take a look at the situation. I came here, and your lamb threw itself into the arms of the wolf. I won his affection by some sort of reminiscent impression which I shall not be tactless enough to explain to you. At first he aroused my sympathy, because he seemed to be in the same fix as I was once. But then he happened to touch old wounds---that book, you know, and "the idiot"---and I was seized with a wish to pick him to pieces, and to mix up these so thoroughly that they couldn't be put together again---and I succeeded, thanks to the painstaking way in which you had done the work of preparation. Then I had to deal with you. For you were the spring that had kept the works moving, and you had to be taken apart---and what a buzzing followed!---When I came in here, I didn't know exactly what to say. Like a chess-player, I had laid a number of tentative plans, of course, but my play had to depend on your moves. One thing led to the other, chance lent me a hand, and finally I had you where I wanted you.---Now you are caught!

TEKLA. No!

GUSTAV. Yes, you are! What you least wanted has happened. The world at large, represented by two lady tourists---whom I had not sent for, as I am not an intriguer---the world has seen how you became reconciled to your former husband, and how you sneaked back repentantly into his faithful arms. Isn't that enough?

TEKLA. It ought to be enough for your revenge---But tell me, how can you, who are so enlightened and so right-minded---how is it possible that you, who think whatever happens must happen, and that all our actions are determined in advance---

GUSTAV. [Correcting her] To a certain extent determined.

TEKLA. That's the same thing!

GUSTAV. No!

TEKLA. [Disregarding him] How is it possible that you, who hold me guiltless, as I was driven by my nature and the circumstances into acting as I did---how can you think yourself entitled to revenge---?

GUSTAV. For that very reason---for the reason that my nature and the circumstances drove me into seeking revenge. Isn't that giving both sides a square deal? But do you know why you two had to get the worst of it in this struggle?

(TEKLA looks scornful.)

GUSTAV. And why you were doomed to be fooled? Because I am stronger than you, and wiser also. You have been the idiot---and he! And now you may perceive that a man need not be an idiot because he doesn't write novels or paint pictures. It might be well for you to bear this in mind.

TEKLA. Are you then entirely without feelings?

GUSTAV. Entirely! And for that very reason, you know, I am capable of thinking---in which you have had no experience whatever-and of acting---in which you have just had some slight experience.

TEKLA. And all this merely because I have hurt your vanity?

GUSTAV. Don't call that MERELY! You had better not go around hurting other people's vanity. They have no more sensitive spot than that.

TEKLA. Vindictive wretch---shame on you!

GUSTAV. Dissolute wretch---shame on you!

TEKLA. Oh, that's my character, is it?

GUSTAV. Oh, that's my character, is it?---You ought to learn something about human nature in others before you give your own nature free rein. Otherwise you may get hurt, and then there will be wailing and gnashing of teeth.

TEKLA. You can never forgive:---

GUSTAV. Yes, I have forgiven you!

TEKLA. You!

GUSTAV. Of course! Have I raised a hand against you during all these years? No! And now I came here only to have a look at you, and it was enough to burst your bubble. Have I uttered a single reproach? Have I moralised or preached sermons? No! I played a joke or two on your dear consort, and nothing more was needed to finish him.---But there is no reason why I, the complainant, should be defending myself as I am now---Tekla! Have you nothing at all to reproach yourself with?

TEKLA. Nothing at all! Christians say that our actions are governed by Providence; others call it Fate; in either case, are we not free from all liability?

GUSTAV. In a measure, yes; but there is always a narrow margin left unprotected, and there the liability applies in spite of all. And sooner or later the creditors make their appearance. Guiltless, but accountable! Guiltless in regard to one who is no more; accountable to oneself and one's fellow beings.

TEKLA. So you came here to dun me?

GUSTAV. I came to take back what you had stolen, not what you had received as a gift. You had stolen my honour, and I could recover it only by taking yours. This, I think, was my right---or was it not?

TEKLA. Honour? Hm! And now you feel satisfied?

GUSTAV. Now I feel satisfied. [Rings for a waiter.]

TEKLA. And now you are going home to your fiancee?

GUSTAV. I have no fiancee! Nor am I ever going to have one. I am not going home, for I have no home, and don't want one.