Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/158

 never to give. I have been like a pauper among you. You never came and demanded a sacrifice of me; I was not fit to bear anything. I hate you! I loathe you!

Erik.

What can this mean?

The Chamberlain.

She is ill; she is out of her mind!

Selma.

How I have thirsted for a single drop of your troubles, your anxieties! But when I begged for it you only laughed me off. You have dressed me up like a doll; you have played with me as you would play with a child. Oh, what a joy it would have been to me to take my share in your burdens! How I longed, how I yearned, for a large, and high, and strenuous part in life! Now you come to me, Erik, now that you have nothing else left. But I will not be treated simply as a last resource. I will have nothing to do with your troubles now. I won't stay with you! I will rather play and sing in the streets! Let me be! Let me be!

[She rushes out by the back.

The Chamberlain.

Thora, was there any meaning in all that, or

Thora.

Oh, yes, there was meaning in it; if only I had seen it sooner. [Goes out by the back.