D. Julian. Not in the least. There ought to be a way out of the difficulty.
Ernest. If that were all!
D. Julian. What! More?
Ernest. Tell me what is the great dramatic spring?
D. Julian. My dear fellow, I don't exactly know what you mean by a dramatic spring. All I can tell you is that I have not the slightest interest in plays where love does not preponderate—above all unfortunate love, for I have enough of happy love at home.
Ernest. Good, very good! Then in my play there can be little or no love.
D. Julian. So much the worse. Though I know nothing of your play, I suspect it will interest nobody.
Ernest. So I have been telling you. Nevertheless, it is possible to put in a little love,—and jealousy too.
D. Julian. Ah, then, with an interesting intrigue skilfully developed, and some effective situations——
Ernest. No, nothing of the sort. It will be all simple, ordinary, almost vulgar ... so that the drama will not have any external action. The drama evolves within the personages: it advances slowly: to-day takes hold of a thought, to-morrow of a heart-beat, little by little, undermines the will.