hristine. The one that looked so unhappy? Yes, I don't feel very happy.

Mother. Of course not! Take yourself out of my sight! Your presence
shames me!

Christine (on her knees). For the sake of your son, don't heap abuse on
me!

Mother. With a mother's authority I command you to leave my son's house,
the threshold of which you have defiled.

Christine. As a housewife I open my door to whom I may choose to
receive. I should have closed it to you, had I been able to guess what
language you would use.

Mother. Big words, indeed! I command you to leave!

Christine. With what right do you force yourself into this house in
order to drive me out of my own home? You have borne a son, and raised
him--that was your duty, your mission, and you may thank your God for
being permitted to fill that mission so well, which is a good fortune
not granted to everybody. Now you have reached the edge of the grave.
Why not resign yourself before the end comes? Or have you raised your
son so poorly that he is still a child and needs your guidance? If you
want gratitude, come and look for it, but not in this way. Or do you
think it is the destiny of a child to sacrifice its own life merely to
show you gratitude? His mission is calling: "Go!" And you cry to him:
"Come to me, you ingrate!" Is he to go astray--is he to waste his
powers, that belong to his country, to mankind--merely for the
satisfaction of your private little selfishness? Or do you imagine
that the fact of having borne and raised him does even entitle you to
gratitude? Did not your life's mission and destiny lie in that? Should
you not thank the Lord for being given such a high mission? Or did you
do it only that you might spend the rest of your life clamoring for
gratitude? Don't you see that by using that word "gratitude" you tear
down all that you have built up before? And what makes you presume that
you have rights over me? Is marriage to mean a mortgaging of my
free will to anybody whom nature has made the mother or father of my
husband--who unfortunately could not exist without either? You are not
_my_ mother. My troth was not pledged to you when I took Olof as my
husband. And I have sufficient respect for my husband not to permit
anybody to insult him, even if it be his own mother. That's why I have
spoken as I have!

Mother. Alas, such are the fruits borne by the teachings of my son!

Christine. If you choose to revile your son, it had better be in his
presence.