hope, yet I cannot let him despair!

Mother. That is not as it should be.

Clara. I liked him once, and in my soul I like him still I could have
married him; yet I believe I was never really in love with him.

Mother. Thou wouldst always have been happy with him.

Clara. I should have been provided for, and have led a quiet life.

Mother. And through thy fault it has all been trifled away.

Clara, I am in a strange position. When I think how it has come to pass, I
know it, indeed, and I know it not. But I have only to look upon Egmont,
and I understand it all; ay, and stranger things would seem natural then.
Oh, what a man he is! All the provinces worship him. And in his arms,
should I not be the happiest creature in the world?

Mother. And how will it be in the future?

Clara. I only ask, does he love me?--does he love me?--as if there were
any doubt about it.

Mother. One has nothing but anxiety of heart with one's children. Always
care and sorrow, whatever may be the end of it! It cannot come to good!
Thou hast made thyself wretched! Thou hast made thy Mother wretched
too.

Clara (quietly). Yet thou didst allow it in the beginning.