Clara. It is not I that wished it.
Princess. You have allowed yourself to be persuaded?—Well, you are either deceiving yourself, my girl, or you are deceiving him. Perhaps you began with the one and are ending with the other. Anyway, it is time you had your eyes opened as to which of you it is that is making the sacrifice. Do you not know that, on your account, he is already the target for general contempt? (CLARA bursts into tears.) If that makes you repent, show it—show it by your deeds!
Clara. I repent of nothing.
Princess (in astonishment). What state of mind are you in, then?
Clara. I have suffered terribly. But I pray God for strength to bear it.
Princess. Don't talk nonsense! The whole thing is a horrible confusion of ideas—half remorse and half cant—the one so mixed up with the other in your mind that you cannot disentangle them. But, believe me, others feel very sure that sacred things and—and what I won't call bluntly by its name, go very ill together! So don't waste those airs on me; they only irritate me!
Clara. Princess, don't be cruel to me. I am suffering, all the same.
Princess. Why on earth do you want to go any farther with the affair? If you aren't clear about it, take advice! Your father is opposed to it, isn't he?
Clara. Yes. (Throws herself into a chair.)
Princess. He has hidden himself away from you. You don't know where he is, or how he is—though you know he is crippled and ill. And, meanwhile, here you are in full dress, with a rose in your hair, waiting to set out to a court at the palace! Are you willing to pass through contemptuous rioting crowds, and over your sick father's body, to become queen? What callous levity! What a presumptuous mixture of what you think is love, duty, sacrifice, trial—with an unscrupulous ambition—! The King? Are you depending on him? He is a poet. He loves anything unusual or sensational. Resistance stimulates him; and that is what drives him into believing that his love will be unending. When you have been married a week, it will be all over. If he had not met with resistance, it would have been all over before this. I know the King better than you; for I know his faithlessness. It is like his love—unending! It hurts you to hear that, does it? Well, it hurts one's eyes to look at the sun. But I can tell you about these things. The only reason I had for coming was to tell you what I know. And now that I have seen you, I can tell you that I know one thing more—and I will tell you what it is. If you actually allow the King, with his ardent temperament, to stray into a path which will lead to the ruin of his career, your action will, in the fullness of time, recoil so appallingly upon your own head that it will kill you. I know you are one of those that faithlessness, remorse and contempt would kill.—Don't look so beseechingly at me; I cannot retract a word of what I have said. But I can tell you now what I had decided upon before I came. I will look after your future. I am not rich; but, as sure as I stand here before you, you shall live free from care—you shall have everything that you need—for the rest of your life. I want no thanks! I do it for the sake of the King, and for the sake of the country to which I belong. It is my duty. Only get up now and come with me to my carriage. (Offers CLARA her hand.)