Ellida. Ah! Wangel, how can you?
The Stranger. I was prepared for that, and so—(takes a revolver from his breast pocket)—I provided myself with this.
Ellida (throwing herself in front of him). No, no; do not kill him! Better kill me!
The Stranger. Neither you nor him, don't fear that. This is for myself, for I will live and die a free man.
Ellida (with growing excitement). Wangel, let me tell you this—tell it you so that he may hear it. You can indeed keep me here! You have the means and the power to do it. And you intend to do it. But my mind—all my thoughts, all the longings and desires of my soul—these you cannot bind! These will rush and press out into the unknown that I was created for, and that you have kept from me!
Wangel (in quiet sorrow). I see it, Ellida. Step by step you are slipping from me. The craving for the boundless, the infinite, the unattainable will drive your soul into the darkness of night at last.
Ellida. Yes! I feel it hovering over me like black noiseless wings.
Wangel. It shall not come to that. No other deliverance is possible for you. I at least can see no other. And so—so I cry off our bargain at once. Now you can choose your own path in perfect—perfect freedom.
Ellida (stares at him a while as if stricken dumb). Is it true—true what you say? Do you mean that—mean it with all your heart?
Wangel. Yes—with all my sorrowing heart—I mean it.