Lise. Look here, Helen, you should really emancipate yourself.
Daughter. Ugh! I haven’t the faintest desire to be a new woman.
Lise. No, I don’t mean that. But you must free yourself from a position of dependence which you have grown out of, and which may make you unhappy for life.
Daughter. I scarcely think I shall ever be able to. Just consider how I’ve been tied down to my mother since I was a child; that I’ve never dared to think a thought that wasn’t hers, have never wished anything but her wishes. I know that it’s a handicap; that it stands in my way, but I can’t do anything against it.
Lise. And if your mother goes to rest, one fine day, you’ll be all alone in the world.
Daughter. That’s how I shall find myself.
Lise. But you’ve got no set, no friend; and no one can live as lonely as all that. You must find some firm support. Have you never been in love?
Daughter. I don’t know. I’ve never dared to think of anything like that, and mother has never allowed young men even to look at me. Do you yourself think of such things?
Lise. Yes. If anyone’s fond of me I should like to have him.
Daughter. You’ll probably marry your cousin Gerhard.