Berent. Of still further falsehood.
Tjaelde. Take care!—It is quite true that I am standing on the edge of a precipice. It is true that for three years I have done everything in mortal power to save the situation! I maintain that there has been something heroic in the fight I have made. And that deserves some reward. You have unrestricted powers; every one trusts you. Realise for yourself what your mission is; do not let it be necessary for me to teach it you! Let me tell you this, emphatically: it will be a dreadful thing for you if hundreds of people are to be ruined unnecessarily now!
Berent. Let us make an end of this.
Tjaelde. No, devil take me if I give up a fight like this with a senseless surrender!
Berent. How do you propose to end it, then?
Tjaelde. There is no issue to it that I have not turned over in my thoughts—thousands of times. I know what I shall do! I won't be a mark for the jeers of this wretched little town, nor triumphed over by those who have envied me all round the countryside!
Berent. What will you do, then?
Tjaelde. You shall see! (Speaking more and more excitedly.) You won't help me under any conditions?
Berent. No.
Tjaelde. You insist that I shall surrender my estate, here and now?