Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/129

 Rosmer.

What! Never! Do you not think you could come to love me? Is there not already a strain of love in our friendship?

Rebecca.

[Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror.] Don't speak so, Rosmer! Don't say such things!

Rosmer.

[Seizes her arm.] Yes, yes—there is a growing promise in our relation. Oh, I can see that you feel it too. Do you not, Rebecca?

Rebecca.

[Once more firm and calm.] Listen to me. I tell you—if you persist in this, I will go away from Rosmersholm.

Rosmer.

Go away! You! You cannot. It is impossible.

Rebecca.

It is still more impossible that I should be your wife. Never in this world can I marry you.

Rosmer.

[Looks at her in surprise.] You say "can"; and you say it so strangely. Why can you not?

Rebecca.

[Seizes both his hands.] Dear friend—both for your own sake and for mine—do not ask why. [Lets go his hands.] Do not, Rosmer. [Goes towards the door on the left.