Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/430

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[With quiet defiance.] Yes, I suppose it is that you have gone and tied yourself to me—for life.

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I would not have expressed myself so heartlessly.

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But you would have meant it just as heartlessly.

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You have no clear idea of the inner workings of an artist's nature.

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[Smiling and shaking her head.] Good heavens, I haven't even a clear idea of the inner workings of my own nature.

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[Continuing undisturbed.] I live at such high speed, Maia. We live so, we artists. I, for my part, have lived through a whole lifetime in the few years we two have known each other. I have come to realise that I am not at all adapted for seeking happiness in indolent enjoyment. Life does not shape itself that way for me and those like me. I must go on working—producing one work after another—right up to my dying day. [Forcing himself to continue.] That is why I cannot get on with you any longer, Maia—not with you alone.