When We Dead Awaken

by Henrik Ibsen

[With a touch of defiance.] Yes. When my wife and I are not travelling—as we are this year.

[Looking far before her.] Life was beautiful, beautiful by the Lake of Taunitz.

[As though looking back into himself.] And yet, Irene—

[Completing his thought.] —yet we two let slip all that life and its beauty.

[Softly, urgently.] Does repentance come too late, now?

[Does not answer, but sits silent for a moment; then she points over the upland.] Look there, Arnold,—now the sun is going down behind the peaks. See what a red glow the level rays cast over all the heathery knolls out yonder.

[Looks where she is pointing.] It is long since I have seen a sunset in the mountains.

Or a sunrise?

A sunrise I don't think I have ever seen.

[Smiles as though lost in recollection.] I once saw a marvellously lovely sunrise.