ng now?

Mrs. Tjaelde (sitting down). Yes, my child. After a terrible
struggle--how terrible, his God and I alone know--your father has just
sent in his declaration of bankruptcy. (VALBORG takes a step or two
forward, then stands still. A pause.)

Tjaelde (unable to control himself). Now I suppose you will say to me
just what Moeller's daughter said to him!

Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up). You won't do that, Valborg!--God alone can
judge him.

Tjaelde. Tell me how cruelly I have wronged you! Tell me that you will
never be able to forgive me--(breaking down)--that I have lost your
respect and your love for ever!

Mrs. Tjaelde. Oh, my child!

Tjaelde. That your anger and your shame know no bounds!

Valborg. Oh, father, father! (Goes out by the door at the back. TJAELDE
tries to cross the room, as if to follow her, but can only stagger as
far as the staircase, to which he clings for support. MRS. TJAELDE sinks
back into her chair. There is a long pause. Suddenly JAKOBSEN cones in
from the outer once, dressed as before except that he has changed his
coat. TJAELDE is not aware of his entrance until JAKOBSEN is close
to him; then he stretches out his hands to him as if in entreaty, but
JAKOBSEN goes right up to him and speaks in a voice choked with rage.)

Jakobsen. You scoundrel! (TJAELDE recoils.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. Jakobsen! Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (without heeding her). The Receiver's men are here. The books
and papers at the Brewery have been seized. Work is at a standstill--and
the same thing at the factory.

Mrs. Tjaelde. My God!

Jakobsen. And I had made myself responsible for twice as much as
I possessed! (He speaks low, but his voice vibrates with anger and
emotion.)

Mrs. Tjaelde. Dear Jakobsen!

Jakobsen (turning to her). Didn't I say to him, every time he told me
to sign, "But I don't possess as much as that! It's not right!"--But he
used to answer, "It is only a matter of form, Jakobsen." "Yes, but
not an honourable form," I used to say. "It is a matter of form in
business," he would say; "all business folk do it." And all I knew of
business, I had learnt from him; so I trusted him. (With emotion.) And
he made me do it time after time. And now I owe more than I shall ever
be able to pay, all my life. I shall live and die a dishonoured man.
What have you to say to that, Mrs. Tjaelde? (She does not answer him. He
turns angrily upon TJAELDE.) Do you hear? Even _she_ can find nothing to
say!--Scoundrel!

Mrs