John Gabriel Borkman

by Henrik Ibsen

BORKMAN. [Smiling bitterly.] Yes, you are right there. Friendship means—deception. I have learnt that once before.

FOLDAL. [Looking at him.] I have no poetic vocation! And you could actually say it to me so bluntly.

BORKMAN. [In a gentler tone.] Well, you know, I don't pretend to know much about these matters.

FOLDAL.
Perhaps you know more than you think.

BORKMAN. I?

FOLDAL. [Softly.] Yes, you. For I myself have had my doubts, now and then, I may tell you. The horrible doubt that I may have bungled my life for the sake of a delusion.

BORKMAN. If you have no faith in yourself, you are on the downward path indeed.

FOLDAL. That was why I found such comfort in coming here to lean upon your faith in me. [Taking his hat.] But now you have become a stranger to me.

BORKMAN.
And you to me.

FOLDAL.
Good night, John Gabriel.