Mother. Then what is it, Axel? You have been so, strange lately—what is it, my dear boy?
Father. Nonsensical ideas—probably his stomach is disordered. Remember the last time I ate lobster!—Come along in and have a glass of sherry, and you will forget all about it.
Axel. No, it isn't a thing one can forget. It is always in my thoughts—more and more insistently. I must have work for my mind—some outlet for my ambition. I am bored here.
Mother. Two days after your wedding!
Father. Set to work then, for heaven's sake! What is there to hinder you? Would you like to take charge of one of my farms? Or to start some improvements on the estate?—or anything you please! I have no doubt you have ideas, and I will provide the money—only do not let us have any of this fuss!
Axel. But then I shall be indebted to you for everything, and shall feel dependent.
Father. So you would rather feel indebted to your uncle?
Axel. He will give me nothing. I must buy it from him.
Father. Really!—How?
Axel. With my work and my—. Oh well, I suppose you would lend me a little capital?