[Seating himself on the sofa and waving his hand toward a chair.] You may sit down, Vilhelm.
Foldal.
[Seating himself on the edge of a chair.] Many thanks. [Looks mournfully at him.] You can’t think how lonely I feel since Frida left home.
Borkman.
Oh, come—you have plenty left.
Foldal.
Yes, God knows I have—five of them. But Frida was the only one who at all understood me. [Shaking his head sadly.] The others don’t understand me a bit.
Borkman.
[Gloomily, gazing straight before him, and drumming on the table with his fingers.] No, that’s just it. That is the curse we exceptional, chosen people have to bear. The common herd—the average man and woman—they do not understand us, Vilhelm.
Foldal.