And merrily blows the breeze.”
Yes, truly, I’m not bound to the joiner’s bench any longer. Mother’s dead. There’s nobody now who would stop eating fish after every storm. Besides, I’ve wanted it ever since I was a boy. Out into the world! I shall never get on here, or not until I have it proved to me that Fortune no longer favours the man that boldly risks his life, the man that throws away the copper he gets from the great treasury, to see whether she’ll take it from him, or give it back to him gilded.
Clara.
And will you leave father alone? He’s sixty now.
Karl.
Alone? Aren’t you staying with him?
Clara.
I?
Karl.
Yes, you, his favourite! What nonsense have you got in your head that you ask such questions? I don’t begrudge him his pleasure. He’ll be freed from his eternal worry, when I go. So why shouldn’t I? We simply don’t suit each other. Things can’t be too narrow for him. He’d like to clench his fist and creep inside of it. I’d like to burst my skin like baby’s clothes, if I could! (Sings.)