ALLMERS. Why then, do you suppose?

RITA. Because you were consumed with mistrust of yourself. Because you had begun to doubt whether you had any great vocation to live for in the world.

ALLMERS. [Observing her closely.] Could you see that in me?

RITA. Oh, yes--little by little. And then you needed something new to fill up your life.--It seems _I_ was not enough for you any longer.

ALLMERS. That is the law of change, Rita.

RITA. And that was why you wanted to make a prodigy of poor little Eyolf.

ALLMERS. That was not what I wanted. I wanted to make a happy human being of him.--That, and nothing more.

RITA. But not out of love for him. Look into yourself! [With a certain shyness of expression.] Search out all that lies under--and behind your action.

ALLMERS. [Avoiding her eyes.] There is something you shrink from saying.

RITA. And you too.

ALLMERS. [Looks thoughtfully at her.] If it is as you say, then we two have never really possessed our own child.

RITA. No. Not in perfect love.

ALLMERS. And yet we are sorrowing so bitterly for him.

RITA. [With sarcasm.] Yes, isn't it curious that we should grieve like this over a little stranger boy?

ALLMERS. [With an outburst.] Oh, don't call him a stranger!

RITA. [Sadly shaking her head.] We never won the boy, Alfred. Not I--nor you either.

ALLMERS. [Wringing his hands.] And now it is too late! Too late!

RITA. And no consolation anywhere--in anything.

ALLMERS. [With sudden pa.s.sion.] You are the guilty one in this!

RITA. [Rising.] I!

ALLMERS. Yes, you! It was your fault that he became--what he was! It was your fault that he could not save himself when he fell into the water.

RITA. [With a gesture of repulsion.] Alfred--you shall not throw the blame upon me!

ALLMERS. [More and more beside himself.] Yes, yes, I do! It was you that left the helpless child unwatched upon the table.

RITA. He was lying so comfortably among the cushions, and sleeping so soundly. And you had promised to look after him.

ALLMERS. Yes, I had. [Lowering his voice.] But then you came--you, you, you--and lured me to you.

RITA. [Looking defiantly at him.] Oh, better own at once that you forgot the child and everything else.

ALLMERS. [In suppressed desperation.] Yes, that is true. [Lower.] I forgot the child--in your arms!

RITA. [Exasperated.] Alfred! Alfred--this is intolerable of you!

ALLMERS. [In a low voice, clenching his fists before her face.] In that hour you condemned little Eyolf to death.

RITA. [Wildly.] You, too! You, too--if it is as you say!

ALLMERS. Oh yes--call me to account, too--if you will. We have sinned, both of us. And so, after all, there was retribution in Eyolf's death.

RITA. Retribution?

ALLMERS. [With more self-control.] Yes. Judgment upon you and me. Now, as we stand here, we have our deserts. While he lived, we let ourselves shrink away from him in secret, abject remorse. We could not bear to see it--the thing he had to drag with him--

RITA. [Whispers.] The crutch.

ALLMERS. Yes, that. And now, what we now call sorrow and heartache--is really the gnawing of conscience, Rita. Nothing else.

RITA. [Gazing helplessly at him.] I feel as if all this must end in despair--in madness for both of us. For we can never--never make it good again.

ALLMERS. [Pa.s.sing into a calmer mood.] I dreamed about Eyolf last night.

I thought I saw him coming up from the pier. He could run like other boys. So nothing had happened to him--neither the one thing nor the other. And the torturing reality was nothing but a dream, I thought. Oh, how I thanked and blessed--[Checking himself.] H'm!

RITA. [Looking at him.] Whom?

ALLMERS. [Evasively.] Whom--?

RITA. Yes; whom did you thank and bless?

ALLMERS. [Putting aside the question.] I was only dreaming, you know--

RITA. One whom you yourself do not believe in?

ALLMERS. That was how I felt, all the same. Of course, I was sleeping--

RITA. [Reproachfully.] You should not have taught me to doubt, Alfred.

ALLMERS. Would it leave been right of me to let you go through life with your mind full of empty fictions?

RITA. It would have been better for me; for then I should have had something to take refuge in. Now I am utterly at sea.

ALLMERS. [Observing her closely.] If you had the choice now--. If you could follow Eyolf to where he is--?

RITA. Yes? What then?

ALLMERS. If you were fully a.s.sured that you would find him again--know him--understand him--?

RITA. Yes, yes; what then?