Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 9).djvu/342

 Ellida.

I knew perhaps even less of you; and yet I went with you.

Wangel.

At least you knew pretty well what kind of life you were entering upon. But now? Now? Reflect! What do you know now? Nothing whatever: not even who he is—or what he is.

Ellida.

[Looking straight before her.] That is true. But that is just the terrible thing.

Wangel.

Yes, terrible indeed

Ellida.

And that is why I feel as if I must give way to it.

Wangel.

[Looks at her.] Because it seems to you terrible?

Ellida.

Yes, just because of that.

Wangel.

[Nearer.] Tell me, Ellida—what do you really mean by "terrible"?

Ellida.

[Reflects.] I call a thing terrible—when it both frightens and fascinates me.

Wangel.

Fascinates?