execution. But one doesn't know what tricks one might need in life. 'It is a trick which deserves you as inventor,'" she recited, with a comical imitation of a fashionable actor. "Have you seen him here in the Court Theatre? How affected he is! Ugh!…" She posed as Frants Moor in the beginning of the second act, and mimicked the face of a scoundrel so funnily that I could not help laughing. Urged on by this applause, she began to imitate the false means of effect which the aforesaid actor had invented for this monologue of meditation: to give questions and answers with two different voices, a high falsetto and a deep ventriloquial voice, while she turned first to the one side then to the other. "What species of sensation should I seek to produce? Anger?—That ravenous wolf is too quickly satiated. Care?—That worm gnaws far too slowly. Grief? That viper creeps too lazily for me. Fear?—Hope destroys its power. What! and are these the only executioners of man? Is the armoury of death so soon exhausted? How? no! Ha! music! Of what is not music capable? It can breathe life into stones; would it not be able to kill a Minna?"
She laughed gaily and embraced me.
"I have been very naughty, Harald, and you were so kind and thanked me so prettily for my music, you dear sweet friend! But I did appreciate it, though I do talk such nonsense. I cannot help it, it often pains me so much; it seems to me it must be so beautiful to be an artist, to be able to make others love and admire what touches one so deeply. But I promise to make you a good wife! And do not mind what I said before; as long as you are with me and care for me I shall not destroy myself with the sweet poison. But, Harald, if you should ever care more for another"
