uthfulness,
and tried to teach me to tell the truth!--But wait a little--how
was it now? He received me with something like hostility--didn't
meet me at the landing--and then--and then he made some remark
about young men on board the boat, which I pretended not to hear---
but how could he know? Wait--and then he began to philosophise
about women--and then the spectre of you seemed to be haunting
him--and he talked of becoming a sculptor, that being the art
of the time--exactly in accordance with your old speculations!

GUSTAV. No, really!

TEKLA. No, really?--Oh, now I understand! Now I begin to see what
a hideous creature you are! You have been here before and stabbed
him to death! It was you who had been sitting there on the sofa;
it was you who made him think himself an epileptic--that he had to
live in celibacy; that he ought to rise in rebellion against his
wife; yes, it was you!--How long have you been here?

GUSTAV. I have been here a week.

TEKLA. It was you, then, I saw on board the boat?

GUSTAV. It was.

TEKLA. And now you were thinking you could trap me?

GUSTAV. It has been done.

TEKLA. Not yet!

GUSTAV. Yes!

TEKLA. Like a wolf you went after my lamb. You came here with a
villainous plan to break up my happiness, and you were carrying it
out, when my eyes were opened, and I foiled you.

GUSTAV. Not quite that way, if you please. This is how it happened
in reality. Of course, it has been my secret hope that disaster
might overtake you. But I felt practically certain that no
interference on my part was required. And besides, I have been far
too busy to have any time left for intriguing. But when I happened
to be moving about a bit, and happened to see you with those young
men on board the boat, then I guessed the time had come for me to
take a look at the situation. I came here, and your lamb threw
itself into the arms of the wolf. I won his affection by some sort
of reminiscent impression which I shall not be tactless enough to
explain to you. At first he aroused my sympathy, because he seemed
to be in the same fix as I was once. But then he happened to touch
old wounds--that book, you know, and "the idiot"--and I was seized
with a wish to pick him to pieces, and to mix up these so
thoroughly that they couldn't be put together again--and I
succeeded, thanks to the painstaking way in which you had done the
work of preparation. Then I had to deal with you. For you were the
spring that had ke