I had practically no choice in the matter. And, you see, one
feels a need for companionship as one begins to get on in years.
And so crushed as I then was--so utterly broken down----

BORKMAN.
[Jumping up in anger.] Is this meant for me? A reproach----!

FOLDAL.
[Alarmed.] No, no, for Heaven's sake, John Gabriel----!

BORKMAN.
Yes, you are thinking of the disaster to the bank, I can see
you are.

FOLDAL.
[Soothingly.] But I don't blame you for that! Heaven forbid!

BORKMAN.
[Growling, resumes his seat.] Well, that is a good thing, at
any rate.

FOLDAL.
Besides, you mustn't think it is my wife that I complain of. It
is true she has not much polish, poor thing; but she is a good sort
of woman all the same. No, it's the children.

BORKMAN.
I thought as much.

FOLDAL.
For the children--well, they have more culture and therefore
they expect more of life.

BORKMAN.
[Looking at him sympathetically.] And so your children despise
you, Vilhelm?

FOLDAL.
[Shrugging his shoulders.] I haven't made much of a career,
you see--there is no denying that.

BORKMAN.
[Moving nearer to him, and laying his hand upon his arm.] Do
they not know, then, that in your young days you wrote a tragedy?

FOLDAL.
Yes, of course they know that. But it doesn't seem to make much
impression on them.

BORKMAN.
Then they don't understand these things. For your tragedy is
good. I am firmly convinced of that.

FOLDAL.
[Brightening up.] Yes, don't you think there are some good
things in it, John Gabriel? Good God, if I could only manage
to get it placed----! [Opens his portfolio, and begins eagerly
turning over the contents.] Look here! Just let me show you
one or two alterations I have made.

BORKMAN.
Have you it with you?

FOLDAL.
Yes, I thought I would bring it. It's so long now since I have
read it to you. And I thought perhaps it might amuse you to hear
an act or two.

BORKMAN.
[Rising, with a negative gesture.] No, no, we will keep that
for another time.

FOLDAL.
Well, well, as you please.

[BORKMAN paces up and down the room. FOLDAL puts the
manuscript up again.

BORKMAN.
[Stopping in front of him.] You are quite right in what you
said just now--you have not made any career. But I promise you
this, Vilhelm, that when once the hour of my restoration strikes----

FOLDAL.
[Making a movement to rise.] Oh, thanks, thanks!

BORKMAN.