Plays by August Strindberg, Second series by August Strindberg
page 244 of 327 (74%)
page 244 of 327 (74%)
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the three dimensions--tell me? That you can reach the practical
mind of our own day, and convey an illusion to it, without the use of colour--without colour, mind you--do you really believe that? ADOLPH. [Crushed] No! GUSTAV. Well, I don't either. ADOLPH. Why, then, did you say you did? GUSTAV. Because I pitied you. ADOLPH. Yes, I am to be pitied! For now I am bankrupt! Finished!-- And worst of all: not even she is left to me! GUSTAV. Well, what could you do with her? ADOLPH. Oh, she would be to me what God was before I became an atheist: an object that might help me to exercise my sense of veneration. GUSTAV. Bury your sense of veneration and let something else grow on top of it. A little wholesome scorn, for instance. ADOLPH. I cannot live without having something to respect-- GUSTAV. Slave! ADOLPH.--without a woman to respect and worship! |
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