BORKMAN. That blast is the breath of life to me. That blast comes to me like a greeting from subject spirits. I seem to touch them, the prisoned millions; I can see the veins of metal stretch out their winding, branching, luring arms to me. I saw them before my eyes like living shapes, that night when I stood in the strong-room with the candle in my hand. You begged to be liberated, and I tried to free you. But my strength failed me; and the treasure sank back into the deep again. [With outstretched hands.] But I will whisper it to you here in the stillness of the night: I love you, as you lie there spellbound in the deeps and the darkness! I love you, unborn treasures, yearning for the light! I love you, with all your shining train of power and glory! I love you, love you, love you!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [In suppressed but rising agitation.] Yes, your love is still down there, John. It has always been rooted there. But here, in the light of day, here there was a living, warm, human heart that throbbed and glowed for you. And this heart you crushed. Oh worse than that! Ten times worse! You sold it for—for——
BORKMAN. [Trembles; a cold shudder seems to go through him.] For the kingdom—and the power—and the glory—you mean?
ELLA RENTHEIM. Yes, that is what I mean. I have said it once before to-night: you have murdered the love-life in the woman who loved you. And whom you loved in return, so far as you could love any one. [With uplifted arm.] And therefore I prophesy to you, John Gabriel Borkman—you will never touch the price you demanded for the murder. You will never enter in triumph into your cold, dark kingdom!
BORKMAN. [Staggers to the bench and seats himself heavily.] I almost fear your prophecy will come true, Ella.
ELLA RENTHEIM. [Going up to him.] You must not fear it, John. That is the best thing that can happen to you.
BORKMAN.
[With a shriek; clutching at his breast.] Ah——! [Feebly.]
Now it let me go again.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Shaking him.] What was it, John?
BORKMAN. [Sinking down against the back of the seat.] It was a hand of ice that clutched at my heart.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
John! Did you feel the ice-hand again!