There, you see, this is my real self. I need only for one moment to forget my part, the part I play before you and my true self appears. You can’t bear me as I really am. You cry, and you _would_ cry, year out, year in, if I did not have pity on you.—No, Ida, it must come to an end between us. I’ve come to that fixed resolve. IDA (_throwing herself on his neck_). That’s not true! That is not, that never _shall_ be true. WILLIAM. Think what you have seen here to-day; shall we start the game afresh?—Shall we build this home again? IDA. It would be different! It would be better, William. WILLIAM. How can you say that? IDA. I _feel_ it. WILLIAM. But you are throwing yourself to destruction, Ida! I am dragging you to your ruin. IDA. I’m not afraid of that, William, not the least afraid! Only have faith again! Only give me your hand again! Then I can be something to you.—Don’t push me away. WILLIAM. Let me go!—You are in love for the first time!—You love an illusion. I have thrown myself in the gutter time after time. I have degraded womanhood with other women.—I am an outcast— IDA (_sobbing and crying, embraces him_). You are _mine_, you are _mine_! WILLIAM. I am not fit for you! IDA. Oh, _don’t_ say that! I am so small before you, so small!—Like a little, little moth. William, I am nothing without you—everything through you;—don’t take your hand away from me.—I am so lost without you. WILLIAM. IDA!!! I—? _I_— [_They embrace and kiss between laughing and crying._ I am not to take—my hand from you—what are you saying—what—why, you—bad— IDA. Now—promise me—now— WILLIAM. I _swear_ to you now— [_A piercing scream from the next room cuts his words short. Startled and terrified they stand looking into each other’s eyes. Voice of Mrs Scholz:—“My husband’s dying, my dear good Fritz is dying, my husband!”—Loud crying._] WILLIAM. My God!—What?—Father!!! Father!!! [_Is about to rush into next room, Ida stops him._ IDA. William!—Control yourself, and—don’t go without me. [_Friebe comes shaking with sobs out of the next room and disappears into the kitchen._] AUGUSTA (_follows Friebe in; stopping in front of William, she moans at him_). Who—is to blame now, who—who? [_She sinks with head and arms on a table, a muffled moaning is wrung from her. Mrs Scholz is still heard crying loudly in next room._ WILLIAM (_breaking out_). Augusta! IDA (_her hands on William’s breast, in trembling tones_:) William—I think—your father—is dead. [_William is again near an outbreak, but Ida calms him; he controls his emotion, possesses himself of Ida’s hand, which he grips in his own, and hand in hand they go with firm and quiet steps out into the next room._] NOTES