Rosmer.
What! Never! Do you not think you could come to love me? Is there not already a strain of love in our friendship?
Rebecca.
[Puts her hands over her ears as if in terror.] Don't speak so, Rosmer! Don't say such things!
Rosmer.
[Seizes her arm.] Yes, yes—there is a growing promise in our relation. Oh, I can see that you feel it too. Do you not, Rebecca?
Rebecca.
[Once more firm and calm.] Listen to me. I tell you—if you persist in this, I will go away from Rosmersholm.
Rosmer.
Go away! You! You cannot. It is impossible.
Rebecca.
It is still more impossible that I should be your wife. Never in this world can I marry you.
Rosmer.
[Looks at her in surprise.] You say "can"; and you say it so strangely. Why can you not?
Rebecca.
[Seizes both his hands.] Dear friend—both for your own sake and for mine—do not ask why. [Lets go his hands.] Do not, Rosmer. [Goes towards the door on the left.
