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Ellida.
I knew perhaps even less of you; and yet I went with you.
Wangel.
At least you knew pretty well what kind of life you were entering upon. But now? Now? Reflect! What do you know now? Nothing whatever: not even who he is—or what he is.
Ellida.
[Looking straight before her.] That is true. But that is just the terrible thing.
Wangel.
Yes, terrible indeed
Ellida.
And that is why I feel as if I must give way to it.
Wangel.
[Looks at her.] Because it seems to you terrible?
Ellida.
Yes, just because of that.
Wangel.
[Nearer.] Tell me, Ellida—what do you really mean by "terrible"?
Ellida.
[Reflects.] I call a thing terrible—when it both frightens and fascinates me.
Wangel.
Fascinates?
