ot good for you.

OSWALD. Yes; you're quite right, mother. It's bad for me, I know.
You see, I'm wretchedly worn out. I shall go for a little turn before
dinner. Excuse me, Pastor: I know you can't take my point of view; but
I couldn't help speaking out. [He goes out by the second door to the
right.]

MRS. ALVING. My poor boy!

MANDERS. You may well say so. Then this is what he has come to!

[MRS. ALVING looks at him silently.]

MANDERS. [Walking up and down.] He called himself the Prodigal Son.
Alas! alas!

[MRS. ALVING continues looking at him.]

MANDERS. And what do you say to all this?

MRS. ALVING. I say that Oswald was right in every word.

MANDERS. [Stands still.] Right? Right! In such principles?

MRS. ALVING. Here, in my loneliness, I have come to the same way of
thinking, Pastor Manders. But I have never dared to say anything. Well!
now my boy shall speak for me.

MANDERS. You are greatly to be pitied, Mrs. Alving. But now I must speak
seriously to you. And now it is no longer your business manager and
adviser, your own and your husband's early friend, who stands before
you. It is the priest--the priest who stood before you in the moment of
your life when you had gone farthest astray.

MRS. ALVING. And what has the priest to say to me?

MANDERS. I will first stir up your memory a little. The moment is well
chosen. To-morrow will be the tenth anniversary of your husband's death.
To-morrow the memorial in his honour will be unveiled. To-morrow I shall
have to speak to the whole assembled multitude. But to-day I will speak
to you alone.

MRS. ALVING. Very well, Pastor Manders. Speak.

MANDERS. Do you remember that after less than a year of married life you
stood on the verge of an abyss? That you forsook your house and home?
That you fled from your husband? Yes, Mrs. Alving--fled, fled, and
refused to return to him, however much he begged and prayed you?

MRS. ALVING. Have you forgotten how infinitely miserable I was in that
first year?

MANDERS. It is the very mark of the spirit of rebellion to crave for
happiness in this life. What right have we human beings to happiness?
We have simply to do our duty, Mrs. Alving! And your duty was to hold
firmly to the man you had once chosen, and to whom you were bound by the
holiest ties.

MRS. ALVING. You know very well what sort of life Alving was
leading--what excesses he was guilty of.

MANDERS. I know very well what rumours there were about him