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; and I
am the last to approve the life he led in his young days, if report
did not wrong him. But a wife is not appointed to be her husband's
judge. It was your duty to bear with humility the cross which a
Higher Power had, in its wisdom, laid upon you. But instead of that
you rebelliously throw away the cross, desert the backslider whom
you should have supported, go and risk your good name and
reputation, and--nearly succeed in ruining other people's reputation
into the bargain.

MRS. ALVING. Other people's? One other person's, you mean.

MANDERS. It was incredibly reckless of you to seek refuge with me.

MRS. ALVING. With our clergyman? With our intimate friend?

MANDERS. Just on that account. Yes, you may thank God that I
possessed the necessary firmness; that I succeeded in dissuading you
from your wild designs; and that it was vouchsafed me to lead you
back to the path of duty, and home to your lawful husband.

MRS. ALVING. Yes, Pastor Manders, that was certainly your work.

MANDERS. I was but a poor instrument in a Higher Hand. And what a
blessing has it not proved to you, all the days of your life, that I
induced you to resume the yoke of duty and obedience! Did not
everything happen as I foretold? Did not Alving turn his back on his