So here the metaphor's being broken; utter shattered into shivering pieces of his castled-love - the love that once pleased him ov'r the night, now, became .. what, nothing but the way to kindle her poor heartaches - the hurt, which further & father led him not to love, anymore ... cos, it's - the love - nothing more than a vision that's meant to be "botched". Short, simple & sorta deep write!
Strindberg said.
" When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..