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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"Married"

It has been sensual!"
"But, my darling, how could we have had children, if it hadn't? And it
has not been sensual only."
"Can a thing be both black and white? Tell me that!"
"Of course, it can. There's your sunshade for instance, it is black
outside and white inside."
"Sophist!"
"Listen to me, sweetheart, tell me in your own way the thoughts which
are in your heart; don't talk like Ottilia's books. Don't let your head
run away with you; be yourself again, my sweet, darling little wife."
"Yours, your property, bought with your labour."
"Just as I am your property, your husband, at whom no other woman is
allowed to look if she wants to keep her eyes in her head; your husband,
who made a present of himself to you, or rather, gave himself to you in
exchange. Are we not quits?"
"But we have trifled away our lives! Have we ever had any higher
interests, William?"
"Yes, the very highest, Gurli; we have not always been playing, we
have had grave hours, too. Have we not called into being generations
to come? Have we not both bravely worked and striven for the little
ones, who are to grow up into men and women? Have you not faced death
four times for their sakes? Have you not robbed yourself of your
nights' rest in order to rock their cradle, and of your days'
pleasures, in order to attend to them? Couldn't we now have a large
six-roomed flat in the main street, and a footman to open the door, if
it were not for the children? Wouldn't you be able to wear silk
dresses and pearls? And I, your old Pal, wouldn't have _crows' nests_
in my knees, if it hadn't been for the kiddies.


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