fixed the works in my head and wound up the spring again. Can't
you hear, yourself, how I think more clearly and speak more to the
point? And to myself at least it seems as if my voice had
recovered its ring.

GUSTAV. So it seems to me also. And why is that?

ADOLPH. I shouldn't wonder if you grew accustomed to lower your
voice in talking to women. I know at least that Tekla always used
to accuse me of shouting.

GUSTAV. And so you toned down your voice and accepted the rule of
the slipper?

ADOLPH. That isn't quite the way to put it. [After some
reflection] I think it is even worse than that. But let us talk of
something else!--What was I saying?--Yes, you came here, and you
enabled me to see my art in its true light. Of course, for some
time I had noticed my growing lack of interest in painting, as it
didn't seem to offer me the proper medium for the expression of
what I wanted to bring out. But when you explained all this to me,
and made it clear why painting must fail as a timely outlet for
the creative instinct, then I saw the light at last--and I
realised that hereafter it would not be possible for me to express
myself by means of colour only.

GUSTAV. Are you quite sure now that you cannot go on painting--
that you may not have a relapse?

ADOLPH. Perfectly sure! For I have tested myself. When I went to