WILLIAM (_springs up, straight and stiff, with fixed eyes, stammering_):— F—F—father!—what—t—to my f—father (_he staggers and stumbles like one out of his mind, and catches at his overcoat_) I— IDA (_frightened_). Willy! Willy! WILLIAM (_makes signs that he must not be stopped_). IDA. Ah, mother! William! you—you shouldn’t have told him so suddenly. MRS BUCHNER. William! are you a man! you cannot have deceived us. If you have still a spark of love for us—for Ida, I demand it of you. I—a woman— IDA (_intercepts William, who has seized his outdoor things, flings her arms round and holds him fast_). You shall not go—or else I—mother, if he goes, I go with him! WILLIAM. Why have you concealed this from me? IDA. Never! don’t think so badly of us! We have concealed nothing from you! All of us, your mother, your sister, we had not an idea, any more than you had; he only came a few minutes ago,—without letting anyone know beforehand, and so, you see—I thought immediately— WILLIAM. Who has told you that? MRS BUCHNER (_in tears, seizing his hands_). You were terribly, terribly to blame. WILLIAM. So you know? MRS BUCHNER. Yes, now. WILLIAM. Everything? MRS BUCHNER. Yes, everything, and you see I was right: you were still dragging a load, that was the secret. WILLIAM. You know that I—? MRS BUCHNER (_nods affirmatively_). WILLIAM. And Ida, is she to be sacrificed to a man like—like me? Does she know it—do you know it, Ida, too? IDA. No, William, but whether I know it or not, that really does not matter. WILLIAM. No?—This hand, that you, that you have often,—this hand (_to Mrs Buchner_), it _was_ that? MRS BUCHNER (_nods as before_). WILLIAM (_to Ida_). How shamefully I have deceived you! No, I can’t tell you—another time! MRS BUCHNER. William, I know what I am asking, but I—you _must_ humble yourself before your poor father; till then you will never feel quite free! Call to him, pray to him. Ah! William! you _must_! You must cling to his knees, and if he spurns you with his foot, you must not defend yourself! You must not speak a word! patient as a lamb! Believe me, a woman who wishes the _best_ for you! WILLIAM. You _don’t_ know, you cannot know, what you are asking of me! Ah! you may thank God, Mrs Buchner, that he has hidden the extent of your cruelty from you! Infamous it may have been what I did! Sacrilegious!—But what I have gone through, here—fought through, suffered—those fearful tortures—he laid the full burden, all the burden on me, and at the end of all, that accursed sin! But in spite of all (_after a long deep look into Ida’s eyes, bracing himself as if to a firm resolution_), perhaps I shall succeed—in spite of all! ACT II