RITA. You mean that happiness--that we can never find it again? [Looks
inquiringly at him.] But if--? [Vehemently.] No, no; I dare not say it!
Nor even think it!
ALLMERS. Yes, say it--say it, Rita.
RITA. [Hesitatingly.] Could we not try to--? Would it not be possible to
forget him?
ALLMERS. Forget Eyolf?
RITA. Forget the anguish and remorse, I mean.
ALLMERS. Can you wish it?
RITA. Yes,--if it were possible. [With an outburst.] For this--I cannot
bear this for ever! Oh, can we not think of something that will bring
its forgetfulness!
ALLMERS. [Shakes his head.] What could that be?
RITA. Could we not see what travelling would do--far away from here?
ALLMERS. From home? When you know you are never really well anywhere but
here.
RITA. Well, then, let us have crowds of people about us! Keep open
house! Plunge into something that can deaden and dull our thoughts!
ALLMERS. Such a life would be impossible for me.--No,--rather than
that, I would try to take up my work again.
RITA. [Bitingly.] Your work--the work that has always stood like a dead
wall between us!
ALLMERS. [Slowly, looking fixedly at her.] There must always be a dead
wall between us two, from this time forth.
RITA. Why must there--?
ALLMERS. Who knows but that a child's great, open eyes are watching us
day and night.
RITA. [Softly, shuddering.] Alfred--how terrible to think of!
ALLMERS. Our love has been like a consuming fire. Now it must be
quenched--
RITA. [With a movement towards him.] Quenched!
ALLMERS. [Hardly.] It is quenched--in one of us.
RITA. [As if petrified.] And you dare say that to me!
ALLMERS. [More gently.] It is dead, Rita. But in what I now feel for
you--in our common guilt and need of atonement--I seem to foresee a sort
of resurrection--
RITA. [Vehemently.] I don't care a bit about any resurrection!
ALLMERS. Rita!
RITA. I am a warm-blooded being! I don't go drowsing about--with fishes'
blood in my veins. [Wringing her hands.] And now to be imprisoned for
life--in anguish and remorse! Imprisoned with one who is no longer mine,
mine, mine!
ALLMERS. It must have ended so, sometime, Rita.
RITA. Must have ended so! The love that in the beginning rushed forth so
eagerly to meet with love!
ALLMERS. My love did not rush forth to you in the beginning.
RITA. What did you feel for me, first of all?
ALLMERS. Dread.
RITA. That I can understand. How was it, then, that I won you after all?
ALLMERS. [In a low voice.] You were so entrancingly beautiful, Rita.
RITA. [Looks searchingly at him.] Then that was the only reason? Say it,
Alfred! The only reason?
ALLMERS. [Conquering himself.] No, there was another as well.
RITA. [With an outburst.] I can guess what that was! It was "my gold,
and my green forests," as you call it. Was it not so, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes.
RITA. [Looks at him with deep reproach.] How could you--how could you!
ALLMERS. I had Asta to think of.
RITA. [Angrily.] Yes, Asta! [Bitterly.] Then it was really Asta that
brought us two together?
ALLMERS. She knew nothing about it. She has no suspicion of it, even to
this day.
RITA. [Rejecting the plea.] It was Asta, nevertheless! [Smiling, with a
sidelong glance of scorn. ] Or, no--it was little Eyolf. Little Eyolf,
my dear!
ALLMERS. Eyolf--?
RITA. Yes, you used to call her Eyolf, did you not? I seem to remember
your telling me so--once, in a moment of confidence. [Coming up to him.]
Do you remember it--that entrancingly beautiful hour, Alfred?
ALLMERS. [Recoiling, as if in horror.] I remember nothing! I will not
remember!
RITA. [Following him.] It was in that hour--when your other little Eyolf
was crippled for life!
ALLMERS. [In a hollow voice, supporting himself against the table.]
Retribution!
RITA. [Menacingly.] Yes, retribution!
[ASTA and BORGHEIM return by way of the boat-shed. She is carrying some
water-lilies in her hand.]
RITA. [With self-control.] Well, Asta, have you and Mr. Borgheim talked
things thoroughly over?
ASTA. Oh, yes--pretty well.
[She puts down her umbrella and lays the flowers upon a chair.]
BORGHEIM. Miss Allmers has been very silent during our walk.
RITA. Indeed, has she? Well, Alfred and I have talked things out
thoroughly enough--
ASTA. [Looking eagerly at both of them.] What is this--?
RITA. Enough to last all our lifetime, I say. [Breaking off.] Come now,
let us go up to the house, all four of us. We must have company about us
in future. It will never do for Alfred and me to be alone.
ALLMERS. Yes, do you go ahead, you two. [Turning.] I must speak a word
to you before we go, Asta.
RITA. [Looking at him.] Indeed? Well then, you come with me, Mr.
Borgheim.
[RITA and BORGHEIM go up the wood-path.]
ASTA. [Anxiously.] Alfred, what is the matter?
ALLMERS. [Darkly.] Only that I cannot endure to be here any more.
ASTA. Here! With Rita, do you mean?
ALLMERS. Yes. Rita and I cannot go on living together.
ASTA. [Seizes his arm and shakes it.] Oh, Alfred--don't say anything so
terrible!
ALLMERS. It is the truth. I am telling you. We are making each other
wicked and hateful.
ASTA. [With painful emotion.] I had never--never dreamt of anything like
this!
ALLMERS. I did not realise it either, till to-day.
ASTA. And now you want to--! What is it you really want, Alfred?
ALLMERS. I want to get away from everything here--far, far away from it
all.
ASTA. And to stand quite alone in the world?
ALLMERS. [Nods.] As I used to, before, yes.
ASTA. But you are not fitted for living alone!
ALLMERS. Oh, yes. I was so in the old days, at any rate.
ASTA. In the old days, yes; for then you had me with you.
ALLMERS. [Trying to take her hand.] Yes. And it is to you, Asta, that I
now want to come home again.
ASTA. [Eluding him.] To me! No, no, Alfred! That is quite impossible.
ALLMERS. [Looks sadly at her.] Then Borgheim stands in the way after
all?
ASTA. [Earnestly.] No, no; he does not! That is quite a mistake!
ALLMERS. Good. Then I will come to you--my dear, dear sister. I must
come to you again--home to you, to be purified and ennobled after my
life with--
ASTA. [Shocked.] Alfred,--you are doing Rita a great wrong!
ALLMERS. I have done her a great wrong. But not in this. Oh, think of
it, Asta--think of our life together, yours and mine. Was it not like
one long holy-day from first to last?
ASTA. Yes, it was, Alfred. But we can never live it over again.
ALLMERS. [Bitterly.] Do you mean that marriage has so irreparably ruined
me?
ASTA. [Quietly.] No, that is not what I mean.
ALLMERS. Well, then we two will live our old life over again.
ASTA. [With decision.] We cannot, Alfred.