[To CLARA.]
Or would you prefer to have me talk with him myself? For your sake I will risk a black eye and go to him. He may be rough with me, he may throw the boot-jack at my head, but he will have to swallow the truth in spite of the stomach-ache it gives him, and let you rest in peace!—Is he at home?
CLARA (stands up straight).
I thank you!
[Starts to go.]
LEONARD.
Shall I go over with you? I have the courage!
CLARA.
I thank you as I would thank a serpent which had wound itself around me and unwound itself and sprung away again, because another prey enticed it. I know that I have been bitten, I know that it deserts me only because it does not seem worth the trouble to suck out what little marrow there is left in my bones. But still I thank the snake, for now I shall have a quiet death. Yes, man, I am not mocking; to me it is as if I had seen through your breast down into the abyss of hell, and whatever may be my lot in the awful eternity to come, I shall never have anything more to do with you, and that is a consolation! And just as the unfortunate person whom a viper has stung cannot be blamed for opening his veins in terror and disgust, in order that his poisoned blood may stream swiftly forth, so perhaps God in His everlasting mercy will take pity on me when He looks down upon you and me and sees what you have made of me! For how could I do it, when I never, never should have done it?—One thing more: My father knows nothing, he does not even suspect anything! And that he may never find out I shall quit the world this very day! If I thought for one moment that you [she takes a step, wildly, toward him]—oh, but that is foolishness! You would be only all the better pleased to see them all stand and shake their heads and inquire in vain of one another why it happened!