Chi lo sà? Perhaps they're giving singing-lessons, perhaps they're on the stage. Yes, we were a merry set; and when the fun had lasted half a year, one day my lover vanished.
VON KELLER.
An unlucky chance, I swear to you. My father was ill. I had to travel. I wrote everything to you.
MAGDA.
H'm! I did not reproach you. And now I will tell you why I owe you thanks. I was a stupid, unsuspecting thing, enjoying freedom like a runaway monkey. Through you I became a woman. For whatever I have done in my art, for whatever I have become in myself, I have you to thank. My soul was like--yes, down below there, there used to be an Æolian harp which was left mouldering because my father could not bear it. Such a silent harp was my soul; and through you it was given to the storm. And it sounded almost to breaking,--the whole scale of passions which bring us women to maturity,--love and hate and revenge and ambition [springing up], and need, need, need--three times need--and the highest, the strongest, the holiest of all, the mother's love!-- All I owe to you!
VON KELLER.
What--what do you say?
MAGDA.
Yes, my friend, you have asked after Emmy and Katie. But you haven't asked after your child.