MRS. ALVING. Yes--when you forced me under the yoke of what you called
duty and obligation; when you lauded as right and proper what my whole
soul rebelled against as something loathsome. It was then that I began
to look into the seams of your doctrines. I wanted only to pick at a
single knot; but when I had got that undone, the whole thing ravelled
out. And then I understood that it was all machine-sewn.
MANDERS. [Softly, with emotion.] And was that the upshot of my life's
hardest battle?
MRS. ALVING. Call it rather your most pitiful defeat.
MANDERS. It was my greatest victory, Helen--the victory over myself.
MRS. ALVING. It was a crime against us both.
MANDERS. When you went astray, and came to me crying, "Here I am; take
me!" I commanded you, saying, "Woman, go home to your lawful husband."
Was that a crime?
MRS. ALVING. Yes, I think so.
MANDERS. We two do not understand each other.
MRS. ALVING. Not now, at any rate.
MANDERS. Never--never in my most secret thoughts have I regarded you
otherwise than as another's wife.
MRS. ALVING. Oh--indeed?
MANDERS. Helen--!
MRS. ALVING. People so easily forget their past selves.
MANDERS. I do not. I am what I always was.
MRS. ALVING. [Changing the subject.] Well well well; don't let us talk
of old times any longer. You are now over head and ears in Boards and
Committees, and I am fighting my battle with ghosts, both within me and
without.
MANDERS. Those without I shall help you to lay. After all the terrible
things I have heard from you today, I cannot in conscience permit an
unprotected girl to remain in your house.
MRS. ALVING. Don't you think the best plan would be to get her provided
for?--I mean, by a good marriage.
MANDERS. No doubt. I think it would be desirable for her in every
respect. Regina is now at the age when--Of course I don't know much
about these things, but--
MRS. ALVING. Regina matured very early.
MANDERS. Yes, I thought so. I have an impression that she was remarkably
well developed, physically, when I prepared her for confirmation. But in
the meantime, she ought to be at home, under her father's eye--Ah! but
Engstrand is not--That he--that he--could so hide the truth from me! [A
knock at the door into the hall.]
MRS. ALVING. Who can this be? Come in!
ENGSTRAND. [In his Sunday clothes, in the doorway.] I humbly beg your
pardon, but--