John Gabriel Borkman

by Henrik Ibsen

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Nodding thoughtfully.] Who knows if, after all, they may not be ringing in life and happiness for him, Gunhild.

MRS. BORKMAN. [With sudden animation, looking hard at her.] Life and happiness, you say!

ELLA RENTHEIM.
For a little while at any rate.

MRS. BORKMAN.
Could you endure to let him know life and happiness, with her?

ELLA RENTHEIM. [With warmth and feeling.] Indeed, I could, with all my heart and soul!

MRS. BORKMAN. [Coldly.] Then you must be richer than I am in the power of love.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Looking far away.] Perhaps it is the lack of love that keeps the power alive.

MRS. BORKMAN.
[Fixing her eyes on her.] If that is so, then I shall soon be
as rich as you, Ella.
[She turns and goes into the house.

ELLA RENTHEIM. [Stands for a time looking with a troubled expression at BORKMAN; then lays her hand cautiously on his shoulder.] Come, John—you must come in, too.

BORKMAN.
[As if wakening.] I?