[Looking at him in surprise.] Has Erhart not told you so?

BORKMAN.

I really don't remember at the moment.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Perhaps he has not spoken of me at all?

BORKMAN.

Oh, yes, I believe he has spoken of you. But the fact is, I so seldom see anything of him--scarcely ever. There is a certain person below that keeps him away from me. Keeps him away, you understand?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Are you quite sure of that, Borkman?

BORKMAN.

Yes, absolutely sure. [Changing his tone.] And so you have been in bad health, Ella?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Yes, I have. And this autumn I grew so much worse that I had to come to town and take better medical advice.

BORKMAN.

And you have seen the doctors already?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Yes, this morning.

BORKMAN.

And what did they say to you?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

They gave me full a.s.surance of what I had long suspected.

BORKMAN.

Well?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Calmly and quietly.] My illness will never be cured, Borkman.

BORKMAN.

Oh, you must not believe that, Ella.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

It is a disease that there is no help or cure for. The doctors can do nothing with it. They must just let it take its course.

They cannot possibly check it; at most, they can allay the suffering. And that is always something.

BORKMAN.

Oh, but it will take a long time to run its course. I am sure it will.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

I may perhaps last out the winter, they told me.

BORKMAN.

[Without thinking.] Oh, well, the winter is long.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Quietly.] Long enough for me, at any rate.

BORKMAN.

[Eagerly, changing the subject.] But what in all the world can have brought on this illness? You, who have always lived such a healthy and regular life? What can have brought it on?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[Looking at him.] The doctors thought that perhaps at one time in my life I had had to go through some great stress of emotion.

BORKMAN.

[Firing up.] Emotion! Aha, I understand! You mean that it is my fault?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[With increasing inward agitation.] It is too late to go into that matter now! But I must have my heart's own child again before I go! It is so unspeakably sad for me to think that I must go away from all that is called life--away from sun, and light, and air--and not leave behind me one single human being who will think of me--who will remember me lovingly and mournfully--as a son remembers and thinks of the mother he has lost.

BORKMAN.

[After a short pause.] Take him, Ella, if you can win him.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

[With animation.] Do you give your consent? Can you?

BORKMAN.

[Gloomily.] Yes. And it is no great sacrifice either. For in any case he is not mine.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

Thank you, thank you all the same for the sacrifice! But I have one thing more to beg of you--a great thing for me, Borkman.

BORKMAN.

Well, what is it?

ELLA RENTHEIM.

I daresay you will think it childish of me--you will not understand----

BORKMAN.

Go on--tell me what it is.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

When I die--as I must soon--I shall have a fair amount to leave behind me.

BORKMAN.

Yes, I suppose so.

ELLA RENTHEIM.

And I intend to leave it all to Erhart.

BORKMAN.