Wendla.
I won't get better. I have the dropsy, I must die, Mother.——O, Mother, I must die!
Frau Bergmann.
You must not die, child! You must not die—Great heavens, you must not die!
Wendla.
But why do you weep so frightfully, then?
Frau Bergmann.
You must not die, child! You haven't the dropsy, you have a child, girl! You have a child!——Oh, why did you do that to me!
Wendla.
I haven't done anything to you.