Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/185

 REBECCA. Do you not believe me, Rosmer?

ROSMER. Oh Rebecca—how can I believe in you, fully? You who have all this while been cloaking, concealing such a multitude of things!—Now you come forward with something new. If you have a secret purpose in all this, tell me plainly what it is. Is there anything you want to gain by it? You know that I will gladly do everything I can for you.

REBECCA. [Wringing her hands.] Oh this killing doubt! Rosmer—Rosmer!

ROSMER. Yes, is it not terrible, Rebecca? But I cannot help it. I shall never be able to shake off the doubt. I can never be absolutely sure that you are mine in pure and perfect love.

REBECCA. Is there nothing in the depths of your own heart that bears witness to the transformation in me? And tells you that it is due to you—and you alone?

ROSMER. Oh Rebecca—I no longer believe in my power of transforming any one. My faith in myself is utterly dead. I believe neither in myself nor in you.

REBECCA. [Looks darkly at him.] Then how will you be able to live your life?