WENDLA--[_Under her apron._] I’m listening. MRS. BERGMANN--[_Incoherent._] But it’s no use, child! That’s all! I can’t justify it.--I know I deserve to be put in prison,--to have you taken from me.... WENDLA--[_Under her apron._] Pluck up heart, Mother! MRS. BERGMANN--Well, then, listen.... WENDLA--[_Trembling._] O God, O God! MRS. BERGMANN--To have a child--you understand me, Wendla?---- WENDLA--Quick, mother! I can’t bear it much longer! MRS. BERGMANN--To have a child--one must love the man--to whom one is married--=love= him, I say,--as one can only love a man! You must love him so utterly--with all your heart--that--that--it can’t be =told=! You must love him, Wendla, as you at your age can’t possibly love anyone yet.... Now you know. WENDLA--[_Getting up._] Great--God--in Heaven! MRS. BERGMANN--Now you know what tests lie before you! WENDLA--And that is all? MRS. BERGMANN--God help me, yes, all!--Now pick up the basket there and go down to Ina. You’ll get some chocolate there, and cakes with it.--Come here--let me just look you over--laced boots, silk gloves, sailor-blouse, a rose in your hair.... But your little dress is really getting too short now, Wendla! WENDLA--Have you got meat for dinner already, motherkin? MRS. BERGMANN--God bless you and keep you!--I must find time to sew another breadth of ruffles round your skirt. CURTAIN SCENE III.--_A toilet--not to be thought of as equipped with modern plumbing._ HANSY RILOW _enters, a light in his hand; bolts the door and opens the lid_. HANSY--Hast thou prayed to-night, Desdemona? [_He draws from his bosom a reproduction of the Venus of Palma Vecchio._] I shouldn’t say you looked like “Our Father Who Art in Heaven,” darling:--awaiting contemplatively whoever may be coming, just as in that delicious moment of dawning rapture when I beheld thee lying in Schlesinger’s shop-window--these supple limbs just as beguiling still, these softly swelling hips, these young, upstanding breasts!--Oh, how giddy with joy must the great master have felt when the fourteen-year-old original lay stretched on the divan before his eyes! And wilt thou sometimes visit me in dreams? With eager arms will I receive thee, and kiss thee till thy breath is gone. Thou wilt take possession of me as the lawful heiress takes possession of her desolated castle. Gate and door spring open as by invisible hands, and below in the park the fountain joyously begins to plash! “It is the cause! It is the cause!”--That I am not lightly moved to murder thee, thou may’st learn from the fearful throbbing in my breast. My throat contracts at the thought of my lonely nights. I swear to thee, dear, upon my soul, it is not satiety inspires me! Who would dare boast that he was satiated with =thee=?