Tekla.  Well, isn’t that much more agreeable—­to escape playing chaperon?  But if you are not satisfied with your position, I’ll send you packing, for I don’t want a husband.

Adolph.  No, that’s what I have noticed.  For a while ago, when you began to sneak away from me like a thief with his booty, and when you began to seek company of your own where you could flaunt my plumes and display my gems, then I felt, like reminding you of your debt.  And at once I became a troublesome creditor whom you wanted to get rid of.  You wanted to repudiate your own notes, and in order not to increase your debt to me, you stopped pillaging my safe and began to try those of other people instead.  Without having done anything myself, I became to you merely the husband.  And now I am going to be your husband whether you like it or not, as I am not allowed to be your lover any longer,

Tekla. [Playfully] Now he shouldn’t talk nonsense, the sweet little idiot!

Adolph.  Look out:  it’s dangerous to think everybody an idiot but oneself!

Tekla.  But that’s what everybody thinks.

Adolph.  And I am beginning to suspect that he—­your former husband—­was not so much of an idiot after all.

Tekla.  Heavens!  Are you beginning to sympathise with—­him?

Adolph.  Yes, not far from it,

Tekla.  Well, well!  Perhaps you would like to make his acquaintance and pour out your overflowing heart to him?  What a striking picture!  But I am also beginning to feel drawn to him, as I am growing more and more tired of acting as wetnurse.  For he was at least a man, even though he had the fault of being married to me.

Adolph.  There, you see!  But you had better not talk so loud—­we might be overheard.

Tekla.  What would it matter if they took us for married people?

Adolph.  So now you are getting fond of real male men also, and at the same time you have a taste for chaste young men?

Tekla.  There are no limits to what I can like, as you may see.  My heart is open to everybody and everything, to the big and the small, the handsome and the ugly, the new and the old—­I love the whole world.

Adolph.  Do you know what that means?

Tekla.  No, I don’t know anything at all.  I just feel.

Adolph.  It means that old age is near.

Tekla.  There you are again!  Take care!

Adolph.  Take care yourself!

Tekla.  Of what?

Adolph.  Of the knife!

Tekla. [Prattling] Little brother had better not play with such dangerous things.

Adolph.  I have quit playing.

Tekla.  Oh, it’s earnest, is it?  Dead earnest!  Then I’ll show you that—­you are mistaken.  That is to say—­you’ll never see it, never know it, but all the rest of the world will know It.  And you’ll suspect it, you’ll believe it, and you’ll never have another moment’s peace.  You’ll have the feeling of being ridiculous, of being deceived, but you’ll never get any proof of it.  For that’s what married men never get.