What would you call it, then?

SOLNESS.

[Rises.] Well, well, perhaps you are right. [Vehemently.] But how can
I help turning into a troll, when this is how it always goes with me in
everything--in everything!

HILDA.

How do you mean?

SOLNESS.

[Speaking low, with inward emotion.] Mark what I say to you, Hilda.
All that I have succeeded in doing, building, creating--all the beauty,
security, cheerful comfort--ay, and magnificence too--[Clenches his
hands.] Oh, is it not terrible even to think of--?

HILDA.

What is so terrible?

SOLNESS.

That all this I have to make up for, to pay for--not in money, but in
human happiness. And not with my own happiness only, but with other
people's too. Yes, yes, do you see that, Hilda? That is the price which
my position as an artist has cost me--and others. And every single day
I have to look on while the price is paid for me anew. Over again, and
over again--and over again for ever!

HILDA.

[Rises and looks steadily at him.] Now I can see that you are thinking
of--of her.

SOLNESS.

Yes, mainly of Aline. For Aline--she, too, had her vocation in life,
just as much as I had mine. [His voice quivers.] But her vocation has
had to be stunted, and crushed, and shattered--in order that mine might
force its way to--to a sort of great victory. For you must know that
Aline--she, too, had a talent for building.

HILDA.

She! For building?

SOLNESS.

[Shakes his head.] Not houses and towers, and spires--not such things as
I work away at--

HILDA.

Well, but what then?

SOLNESS.

[Softly, with emotion.] For building up the souls of little children,
Hilda. For building up children's souls in perfect balance, and in
noble and beautiful forms. For enabling them to soar up into erect and
full-grown human souls. That was Aline's talent. And there it all
lies now--unused and unusable for ever--of no earthly service to any
one--just like the ruins left by a fire.

HILDA.

Yes, but even if this were so--?

SOLNESS.

It is so! It is so! I know it!

HILDA.

Well, but in any case it is not your fault.

SOLNESS.

[Fixes his eyes on her, and nods slowly.] Ah, that is the great, the
terrible question. That is the doubt that is gnawing me--night and day.

HILDA.

That?

SOLNESS.

Yes. Suppose the fault was mine--in a certain sense.

HILDA.

Your fault! The fire!

SOLNESS.

All of it; the whole thing. And y