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.