ERIC. You are a beast, Jorghen!
JORGHEN. Have I ever denied it?
ERIC. No, but there are limits....
JORGHEN. Where?
ERIC. Here and there! A certain innate sense of propriety generally suggests the—approximate limits.
JORGHEN. Are you dreaming again, you dreamer?
ERIC. Take care! There are limits even to friendship....
JORGHEN. No, mine is limitless!
JACOB is shown into the room by AGDA, whose hand he presses.
ERIC. [Rising] There you are at last, Jacob! You have kept me waiting a long time, and just now I was longing for you.