Thekla. That’s right, speak in that tone—you have never loved me. [She goes past him to the right up to the fireplace.]
Adolf. Really?
Thekla. No, for loving means giving.
Adolf. For a man to love means giving, for a woman to love means taking—and I’ve given, given, given.
Thekla. Oh, to be sure, you’ve given a fine lot, haven’t you?
Adolf. Everything.
Thekla.[Leans on the chimney piece.] There has been a great deal besides that. And even if you did give me everything, I accepted, it. What do you mean by coming now and handing the bill for your presents? If I did take them, I proved to you- by that very fact that I loved you. [She approaches him.] A girl only takes presents from her lover.
Adolf. From her lover, I agree: There you spoke the truth. [With a step to the left.] I was just your lover, but never your husband.
Thekla. A man ought to be jolly grateful when he’s spared the necessity of playing cover, but if you aren’t satisfied with the position you can have your conge. I don’t like a husband.
Adolf. No, I noticed as much, for when I remarked, some time back, that you wanted to sneak away from me, and get a set of your own, so- as to be able to deck yourself out with my feathers, to scintillate with my jewels, I wanted to remind you of your guilt. And then I changed from your point of view into that inconvenient creditor, whom a woman would particularly prefer to keep at a safe distance from one, and then you would have liked to have cancelled the debt, and to avoid getting any more into my debt; you ceased to pilfer my coffers and transferred your attentions to others. I was your husband without having wished it, and your hate began to arise, but now I’m going to be your husband, whether you want it or not. I can’t be your lover any more, that’s certain! [He sits down in his previous place on the right.]