Ulrich! What have you done?
FORESTER (has recovered his self-possession).
Stuff and nonsense! Is this a night for such stories?
[Lost in thought.]
SOPHY.
Go ahead. Whether an hour sooner, or an hour later. You have me on your conscience.
[Sinks down upon a chair to the left.]
FORESTER (pause; then he walks slowly up and down, and gradually comes near her, hesitating).
I must tell you something, Sophy—if you do not already know it; it will not let me rest. I am in the right; but—and then I cannot tell—is it true or is it only an oppressive dream?—a dream in which one cannot do what one wishes—and exhausts oneself—because one must always do what one does not wish. Come here! Do you hear? Place your hand on the Bible.