dream of St. John’s Eve. Come here, both of you. Look up there in the sky. You see those five stars there in the milky way? That’s Cassiopiea. That is our constellation—ours and our children’s. In those stars our fate is hidden. Before they begin to pale, I shall know their secrets.
Ann.—You inveterate dreamer! I come to you with a most serious purpose and you begin talking about the stars.
Hans.—I know what you came to say. You wanted me to know that it did . . . that it takes a long time for the mother to win over the woman.
Ann.—Mother over the woman?
Hans.—Exactly; for before you allowed the mother in you to speak, you had to overhear what your one time lover had to say to your sister.
Ann.—And he was saying so much, was carrying things so far, that it is a wonder the mother in me, and the sister, had not spoken sooner.
Hans (Smiling).—Who knows to what good end all this may not lead! Meanwhile, we, there in the sky . . .
Ann.—Oh, please, come down from your sky! Leave your stars up there for a minute and listen to what I have to tell you. If the time were not so precious, if daybreak were not coming on us apace, I should not have shouted this thing out before Julia as I did. What we three know, we must keep a profound secret. My husband must never suspect. . . . For the child’s sake. And for that very reason, I ask you to go away from here before those stars of yours begin to fade. You must go at once!
Hans.—It is only for that reason that I feel like staying. Surely, I have a right to see him again! My son! To hold him in my arms, to kiss him! Do you hear! My son!
Ann.—You kissed him for the last time last night. The poor boy loves you as if he knew . . .
Hans.—Last night I acted out of blind instinct, now I must hold him in full certainty. Don’t you see how I must feel?
Ann.—It is ridiculous to yield to such feelings. I must be the judge of these things, and I have a right to command in this matter. I earned this right by sufferings far greater than any you could have undergone in Siberia. Do you suppose it was such a trifle to become the wife of that man? A man I hated as intensely as I loved you.
Hans.—Yet how gamely you went through it!
Ann.—Hans, the night you left me . . . I . . . I
