AXEL. Yes, just that. It may seem strange, but to me it's as if you women were intruding and plundering where we have fought for so long while you sat by the fire. Forgive me, Bertha, for talking like this, but such thoughts have occurred to me.
BERTHA. Has it ever occurred to you that you're exactly like all other men?
AXEL. Like all others? I should hope so!
BERTHA. And you have become so superior lately. You didn't use to be like that.
AXEL. It must be because I am superior! Doing something that we men have never done before!
BERTHA. What! What are you saving! Shame on you!
WILLMER. There, there, good friends! No, but, dear friends—Bertha, control yourself.
[He gives her a look which she tries to make out.]
BERTHA [Changing]. Axel, let's be friends! And hear me a moment. Do you think that my position in your house—for it is yours—is agreeable to me? You support me, you pay for my studying at Julian's, while you yourself cannot afford instruction. Don't you think I see how you sit and wear out yourself and your talent on these pot-boiling drawings, and are able to paint only in leisure moments? You haven't been able to afford models for yourself, while you pay mine five hard-earned francs an hour. You don't know how good—how noble—how sacrificing you are, and also you don't know how I suffer to see you toil so for me. Oh, Axel, you can't know how I feel my position. What am I to you? Of what use am I in your house? Oh, I blush when I think about it!
AXEL. What, what, what! Aren't you my wife?