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[In fear and agitation.] Let me pa.s.s, I say! He must not go away from me!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
It is utterly useless, I tell you! You will never overtake him.
MRS. BORKMAN.
Let me go, Ella! I will cry aloud after him all down the road.
And he must hear his mother's cry!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
He cannot hear you. You may be sure he is in the sledge already.
MRS. BORKMAN.
No, no; he can't be in the sledge yet!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
The doors are closed upon him long ago, believe me.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[In despair.] If he is in the sledge, then he is there with her, with her--her!
BORKMAN.
[Laughing gloomily.] Then he probably won't hear his mother's cry.
MRS. BORKMAN.
No, he will not hear it. [Listening.] Hark! what is that?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Also listening.] It sounds like sledge-bells.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[With a suppressed scream.] It is her sledge!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Perhaps it's another.
MRS. BORKMAN.
No, no, it is Mrs. Wilton's covered sledge! I know the silver bells! Hark! Now they are driving right past here, at the foot of the hill!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Quickly.] Gunhild, if you want to cry out to him, now is the time! Perhaps after all----! [The tinkle of the bells sounds close at hand, in the wood.] Make haste, Gunhild! Now they are right under us!
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Stands for a moment undecided, then she stiffens and says sternly and coldly.] No. I will not cry out to him. Let Erhart Borkman pa.s.s away from me--far, far away--to what he calls life and happiness.
[The sound dies away in the distance.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[After a moment.] Now the bells are out of hearing.
MRS. BORKMAN.
They sounded like funeral bells.
BORKMAN.
[With a dry suppressed laugh.] Oho--it is not for me they are ringing to-night!
MRS. BORKMAN.
No, but for me--and for him who has gone from me.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Nodding thoughtfully.] Who knows if, after all, they may not be ringing in life and happiness for him, Gunhild.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[With sudden animation, looking hard at her.] Life and happiness, you say!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
For a little while at any rate.
MRS. BORKMAN.
Could you endure to let him know life and happiness, with her?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[With warmth and feeling.] Indeed, I could, with all my heart and soul!
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Coldly.] Then you must be richer than I am in the power of love.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Looking far away.] Perhaps it is the lack of love that keeps the power alive.
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Fixing her eyes on her.] If that is so, then I shall soon be as rich as you, Ella.
[She turns and goes into the house.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Stands for a time looking with a troubled expression at BORKMAN; then lays her hand cautiously on his shoulder.] Come, John--you must come in, too.
BORKMAN.
[As if wakening.] I?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Yes, this winter air is too keen for you; I can see that, John.
So come--come in with me--into the house, into the warmth.
BORKMAN.
[Angrily.] Up to the gallery again, I suppose.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
No, rather into the room below.
BORKMAN.
