Richard
[Turning.] Eh!
Bertha
[Hotly.] The work of a devil.
Richard
He?
Bertha
[Turning on him.] No, you! The work of a devil to turn him against me as you tried to turn my own child against me. Only you did not succeed.
Richard
How? In God's name, how?
Bertha
[Excitedly.] Yes, yes. What I say. Everyone saw it. Whenever I tried to correct him for the least thing you went on with your folly, speaking to him as if he were a grownup man. Ruining the poor child, or trying to. Then, of course, I was the cruel mother and only you loved him. [With growing excitement.] But you did not turn him against me—against his own mother. Because why? Because the child has too much nature in him.
Richard
I never tried to do such a thing. Bertha. You know I cannot be severe with a child.
Bertha
Because you never loved your own mother. A mother is always a mother, no matter what. I never heard of any human being that did not love the mother that brought him into the world, except you.
Richard
[Approaching her quietly.] Bertha, do not say things
