I've always wondered why one could never be angry with
her. She doesn't feel herself responsible, or think an insult's
directed at her. She seems impersonal; or rather two persons, one
who does nothing but ill whilst the other gives absolution. ... But
this man! There's no one I've hated from afar so much as he. He
sees evil everywhere; and of no one have I heard so much ill.
MOTHER. That's true. But it may be Ingeborg's found some mission in
this man's life; and he in hers. Perhaps they're meant to torture
each other into atonement.
OLD MAN. Perhaps. But I'll have nothing to do with at seems to me
shameful. This man, under my roof! Yet I must accept it, like
everything else. For I've deserved no less.
MOTHER. Very well then. (The LADY and the STRANGER come in.) You're
welcome.
LADY. Thank you, Mother. (She looks over to the OLD MAN, who rises
and looks at the STRANGER.) Peace, Grandfather. This is my husband.
Give him your hand.
OLD MAN. First let me look at him. (He goes to the STRANGER, puts
his hands on his shoulders and looks him in the eyes.) What motives
brought you here?
STRANGER (simply). None, but to keep my wife company, at her
earnest desire.
OLD MAN. If that's true, you're welcome! I've a long and stormy
life behind me, and at last I've found a certain peace in solitude.
I beg you not to trouble it.
STRANGER. I haven't come here to ask favours. I'll take nothing
with me when I go.
OLD MAN. That's not the answer I wanted; for we all need one
another.
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