Mrs. Alving. If I were not such a miserable coward, I would say to him: "Marry her, or make any arrangement you like with her—only let there be no deceit in the matter."
Manders. Heaven forgive you! Are you actually suggesting anything so abominable, so unheard of, as a marriage between them!
Mrs. Alving. Unheard of, do you call it? Tell me honestly, Mr. Manders, don't you suppose there are plenty of married couples out here in the country that are just as nearly related as they are?
Manders. I am sure I don't understand you.
Mrs. Alving. Indeed you do.
Manders. I suppose you are thinking of cases where possibly—. It is only too true, unfortunately, that family life is not always as stainless as it should be. But as for the sort of thing you hint at—well, it's impossible to tell, at all events, with any certainty. Here on the other hand—for you, a mother, to be willing to allow your—
Mrs. Alving. But I am not willing to allow it; I would not allow it for anything in the world; that is just what I was saying.
Manders. No, because you are a coward, as you put it. But, supposing you were not a coward—! Great heavens—such a revolting union!
Mrs. Alving. Well, for the matter of that, we are all descended from a union of that description, so we are told. And who was it that was responsible for this state of things, Mr. Manders?
Manders. I can't discuss such questions with you, Mrs. Alving; you are by no means in the right frame of mind for that. But for you to dare to say that it is cowardly of you—!