Rebecca. Whenever you like. The sooner the better.
Rosmer. Then let me see, Rebecca, whether you—for my sake-this very night—. (Breaks off.) Oh, no, no!
Rebecca. Yes, John! Yes, yes! Say it, and you shall see.
Rosmer. Have you the courage—are you willing—gladly, as Ulrik Brendel said—for my sake, to-night—gladly—to go the same way—that Beata went!
Rebecca (gets up slowly from the couch, and says almost inaudibly): John—!
Rosmer. Yes, dear—that is the question I shall never be able to rid my thoughts of, when you have gone away. Every hour of the day I shall come back to it. Ah, I seem to see you bodily before me—standing out on the foot-bridge-right out in the middle. Now you lean out over the railing! You grow dizzy as you feel drawn down towards the mill-race! No—you recoil. You dare not do—what she dared.
Rebecca. But if I had the courage?—and willingly and gladly? What then?
Rosmer. Then I would believe in you. Then I should get back my faith in my mission in life—my faith in my power to ennoble my fellow men—my faith in mankind's power to be ennobled.
Rebecca (takes up her shawl slowly, throws it over her head, and says, controlling herself): You shall have your faith back.
Rosmer. Have you the courage and the strength of will for that, Rebecca?