BERTHA. [_Anxiously._] But you will see me again, Robert... as before. ROBERT. [_Looks full at her._] To make him—Richard—suffer. BERTHA. He does not suffer. ROBERT. [_Bowing his head._] Yes, yes. He does. BERTHA. He knows we like each other. Is there any harm, then? ROBERT. [_Raising his head._] No there is no harm. Why should we not? He does not know yet what I feel. He has left us alone here at night, at this hour, because he longs to know it—he longs to be delivered. BERTHA. From what? ROBERT. [_Moves closer to her and presses her arm as he speaks._] From every law, Bertha, from every bond. All his life he has sought to deliver himself. Every chain but one he has broken and that one we are to break. Bertha—you and I. BERTHA. [_Almost inaudibly._] Are you sure? ROBERT. [_Still more warmly._] I am sure that no law made by man is sacred before the impulse of passion. [_Almost fiercely._] Who made us for one only? It is a crime against our own being if we are so. There is no law before impulse. Laws are for slaves. Bertha, say my name! Let me hear your voice say it. Softly! BERTHA. [_Softly._] Robert! ROBERT. [_Puts his arm about her shoulder._] Only the impulse towards youth and beauty does not die. [_He points towards the porch._] Listen! BERTHA. [_In alarm._] What? ROBERT. The rain falling. Summer rain on the earth. Night rain. The darkness and warmth and flood of passion. Tonight the earth is loved—loved and possessed. Her lover’s arms around her; and she is silent. Speak, dearest! BERTHA. [_Suddenly leans forward and listens intently._] Hush! ROBERT. [_Listening, smiles._] Nothing. Nobody. We are alone. [_A gust of wind blows in through the porch, with a sound of shaken leaves. The flame of the lamp leaps._] BERTHA. [_Pointing to the lamp._] Look! ROBERT. Only the wind. We have light enough from the other room. [_He stretches his hand across the table and puts out the lamp. The light from the doorway of the bedroom crosses the place where they sit. The room is quite dark._] ROBERT. Are you happy? Tell me. BERTHA. I am going now, Robert. It is very late. Be satisfied. ROBERT. [_Caressing her hair._] Not yet, not yet. Tell me, do you love me a little? BERTHA. I like you, Robert. I think you are good. [_Half rising._] Are you satisfied? ROBERT. [_Detaining her, kisses her hair._] Do not go, Bertha! There is time still. Do you love me too? I have waited a long time. Do you love us both—him and also me? Do you, Bertha? The truth! Tell me. Tell me with your eyes. Or speak! [_She does not answer. In the silence the rain is heard falling._] Third Act