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and if it is to go on much longer, my head is like to burst.
May the Lord keep us and send me good tidings of you.
Ever your faithful sister,
MARIE GRUBBE.
The Honorable Mistress Anne Marie Grubbe, Sti Högh’s, Magistrate
of Laaland, my dearly beloved sister, graciously to hand.
Ulrik Frederik, if the truth were told, was as tired of the
state of affairs at the castle as Marie Grubbe was. He
had been used to refining more on his dissipations. They
were sorry boon companions, these poor, common officers
in Norway, and their soldiers’ courtesans were not to be
endured for long. Karen Fiol was the only one who was
not made up of coarseness and vulgarity, and even her he
would rather bid good-by to-day than to-morrow.
In his chagrin at being repulsed by Marie Grubbe, he
had admitted these people into his company, and for a
while they amused him, but when the whole thing began
to pall and seem rather disgusting, and when furthermore
he felt some faint stirrings of remorse, he had to justify
himself by pretending that such means had been necessary.
He actually made himself believe that he had been
pursuing a plan in order to bring Marie Grubbe back repentant.
Unfortunately, her penitence did not seem to be
forthcoming, and so he had recourse to harsher measures in the
hope that, by making her life as miserable as possible, he
would beat down her resistance. That she had really ceased
to love him he never believed for a moment. He was
convinced that in her heart she longed to throw herself into his
arms, though she used his returning love as a good chance
to avenge herself for his faithlessness. Nor did he begrudge
her this revenge; he was pleased that she wanted it, if she
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