Ella Rentheim.
All a woman’s gladness at any rate. From the day when your image began to dwindle in my mind, I have lived my life as though under an eclipse. During all these years it has grown harder and harder for me—and at last utterly impossible—to love any living creature. Human beings, animals, plants: I shrank from all—from all but one——
Borkman.
What one?
Ella Rentheim.
Erhart, of course.
Borkman.
Erhart?
Ella Rentheim.
Erhart—your son, Borkman.