Reb. Don't be alarmed, dear, it is all over now. After living alone with you in solitude, when you showed me all your thoughts without reserve,—little by little, somehow the fancy passed off. I caught the ROSMER view of life badly, and dulness descended on my soul as an extinguisher upon one of our Northern dips. The ROSMER view of life is ennobling, very—but hardly lively. And I've more yet to tell you.
Rosmer (turning it off). Isn't that enough for one evening P
Reb. (almost voiceless). No, dear. I have a Past—behind me!
Rosmer. Behind you? How strange. I had an idea of that sort already. (Starts, as if in fear.) A joke! (Sadly.) Ah, no—no, I must not give way to that! Never mind the Past, REBECCA; I once thought that I had made the grand discovery that, if one is only virtuous, one will be happy. I see now it was too daring, too original—an immature dream. What bothers me is that I can't—somehow I can't—believe entirely in you—I am not even sure that I have ennobled you so very much—isn't it terrible?
Reb. (wringing her hands). Oh, this killing doubt! (Looks darkly at him.) Is there anything I can do to convince you?
Rosmer (as if impelled to speak against his will). Yes, one thing—only I'm afraid you wouldn't see it in the same light. And yet I must mention it. It is like this. I want to recover faith in my mission, in my power to ennoble human souls. And, as a logical thinker, this I cannot do now, unless—well, unless you jump into the mill-race, too, like BEATA!
Reb. (takes up her antimacassar, with composure, and puts it on her head). Anything to oblige you.
Rosmer (springs up). What? You really will! You are sure you don't mind? Then, REBECCA, I will go further. I will even go—yes—as far as you go yourself!
Reb. (bows her head towards his breast). You will see me off? Thanks. Now you are indeed an Ibsenite.
[Smiles almost imperceptibly.