WALLACE. Oh, yes, I have, mother. But it isn't for the poor devils I've got to shoot. It's for the stay-at-home fellow here in America who sits in a comfortable armchair, who applauds patriotic sentiment, cheers the flag, and does nothing for his country but hate and hate--while we fight for him. That's the fellow I'll hate all right when I sit in the trenches. And that's why I couldn't look myself in the face if I stayed out a day longer; why I've got to go in; why I'm going to die if I must, because _everybody_ ought to be willing to die for what he believes. HILDA. You are my son, _too_! For I would willingly have died if it could have kept us out of this war. WALLACE. Yes. I am your son, too. And that's why you wouldn't respect me if I didn't go through. HILDA. No. I wouldn't have respected you. But--but--(_She breaks a bit, then controls herself._) You are quite sure you're doing what's right? WALLACE (_tenderly_). Would I have been willing to hurt you like this? HILDA (_holding him close to her_). My boy; my boy! WALLACE. It'll be all right, mother. HILDA. Ah, yes. It will be all right. Nothing matters in time: it's only the moments that hurt. WALLACE (_after a pause_). Then you won't tell my real age, or interfere? HILDA. I respect your right to decide your own life. WALLACE (_joyed_). Mother! HILDA. I respect your dedication; your willingness to sacrifice for your beliefs. Why, Wallace, it would be a crime for me to stand in your way--even with my mother's love. (_He kisses her._) Do it all as cleanly as you can. I'll hope and pray that you'll come back to me. (_Half breaking down and taking him in her arms_). Oh, my boy; my boy. Let me hold you. You'll never know how hard it is for a mother. WALLACE (_gently_). But other mothers send their boys. HILDA. Most of them believe in what their sons are fighting for. Mothers have got to believe in it; or else how could they stand the thought of bayonets stuck into the bodies they brought forth in their own blood? (_There is a pause till she controls herself._) I'll help you get your things together. WALLACE. And father? HILDA. He will be angry. WALLACE. But you will make him understand?