to do that, it would be all up with us. To acquiesce in such
an unnatural state of affairs would be like crippling one's self on
purpose. I am entangled hand and foot here in the meshes of a net
of circumspection. I shall have to sail along at "dead slow" all my
life--creep about among their furniture and their flowers as warily as
among their habits. You might just as well try to stand the house on its
head as to alter the slightest thing in it. I daren't move!--and it is
becoming unbearable. Would it be a breach of a law of nature to move
this couch a little closer to the wall, or this chair further away from
it? And has it been ordained from all eternity that this table must
stand just where it does? _Can_ it be shifted? (Moves it.) It actually
can! And the couch, too. Why does it stand so far forward? (Pushes it
back.) And why are these chairs everlastingly in the way? This one shall
stand there--and this one there. (Moves them.) I will have room for my
legs; I positively believe I have forgotten how to walk. For a whole
year I have hardly heard the sound of my own footstep--or of my own
voice; they do nothing but whisper and cough here. I wonder if I have
any voice left? (Sings.)

"Bursting every bar and band,
My fetters will I shatter;
Striding out, with sword in hand,
Where the fight"--

(He stops abruptly, at the entrance of the FATHER, the MOTHER,
LAURA and MATHILDE, who have come hurriedly from the breakfast table. A
long pause.)

Laura. Axel, dear!

Mathilde. What, all by himself?

Mother. Do you think you are at a ball?

Father. And playing the part of musician as well as dancer?

Axel. I am amusing myself.

Father. With our furniture?

Axel. I only wanted to see if it was possible to move it.

Mother. If it was possible to move it?

Laura. But what were you shouting about?

Axel. I only wanted to try if I had any voice left.

Laura. If you had any voice left?

Mother. There is a big wood near the house, where you can practise that.

Father. And a waterfall--if you are anxious to emulate Demosthenes.

Laura. Axel, dear--are you out of your mind?

Axel. No, but I think I soon shall be.

Mother. Is there anything wrong?

Axel. Yes, a great deal.

Mother. What is it? Some unpleasant news by post?

Axel. No, not that--but I am unhappy.

Mother. Two days after your wedding?

Father. You have a very odd way of showing it.

Axel. I