your father all alone? He is sixty years
old!

CARL.

Alone? Aren't you going to be left?

CLARA.

I?

CARL.

You! His pet child! What sort of weeds are growing in your head
that you ask me that? By going, I leave his joy with him and free him of
his everlasting annoyance! Why shouldn't I do it? Once and for all we
cannot get along together. He can't get things contracted enough to suit
him. He would like to close his fist and creep inside it. I would like
to strip off my skin like a baby's coat--if it were only practicable!

[_Sings_]

The anchor they are heaving,
I trow they'll soon be leaving,
Now look! Away she spins.

Tell me yourself: Did he doubt my guilt for a single instant? And did he
not find the usual consolation in his over-wise: "Just as I expected!"
"I have always thought so!" "It could not end in any other way!" If it
had been you, he would have killed himself! I should like to see him if
you were to suffer a woman's fate! It would be to him as if he himself
had become pregnant--and by the devil besides!

CLARA.

Oh, what anguish! Yes, I must go! Away!

CARL.

What do you mean by that?

CLARA.

I must go into the kitchen! What else should I mean?

[_Clasping her forehead._]

Yes! That too! Just to hear that I came home again!

[_Exit._]

CARL.

She acts very strangely!

[_Sings_]

A bold and saucy sea-gull
Sweeps round, as if possessed--

CLARA. [_Reenters._]

The last thing is done! Father's supper is on the fire! As I closed the
kitchen door behind me, I thought to myself: You are never to enter
there again! I shuddered in my very soul! Thus I shall go out of the
room too, thus out of the house, thus out of the world!

CARL. [_Sings; he continues to walk back and forth; CLARA remains in the
background._]

Aloft the sun is burning,
The fishes, glancing, turning,
Circle about their guest.

CLARA.

Why do I not do it then? Shall I never do it? Am I going to continue
putting it off from day to day, as I am now doing from one minute to the
next, until--certainly! Then, away! Away! And yet I stand still! I have
a feeling as if imploring hands were raised in my womb, as if
eyes--[_She sits down on a chair._] What does it mean? Am I too weak to
do it? Then ask yourself if you are strong enough to see your father
with his throat cut!--[_She rises._] No! No!--Our Father, Who art in
Heaven, hallowed be Thy name--God! God! My poor head! I cannot even