Menders. I know only too well what rumour used to say of him; and
I should be the last person to approve of his conduct as a young
man, supposing that rumour spoke the truth. But it is not a
wife's part to be her husband's judge. You should have considered
it your bounden duty humbly to have borne the cross that a higher
will had laid upon you. But, instead of that, you rebelliously
cast off your cross, you deserted the man whose stumbling
footsteps you should have supported, you did what was bound to
imperil your good name and reputation, and came very near to
imperilling the reputation of others into the bargain.

Mrs. Alving. Of others? Of one other, you mean.

Manders. It was the height of imprudence, your seeking refuge
with me.

Mrs. Alving. With our priest? With our intimate friend?

Manders. All the more on that account; you should thank God that
I possessed the necessary strength of mind--that I was able to
turn you from your outrageous intention, and that it was
vouchsafed to me to succeed in leading you back into the path of
duty, and back to your lawful husband.

Mrs. Alving. Yes, Mr. Manders, that certainly was your doing.

Manders. I was but the humble instrument of a higher power. And
is it not true that my having been able to bring you again under
the yoke of duty and obedience sowed the seeds of a rich blessing