Engstrand. I am sorry to say I have, sir.
Manders. Did I deserve that from you, Engstrand? Haven't I been always ready to help you in word and deed as far as lay in my power? Answer me! Is it not so?
Engstrand. Indeed there's many a time I should have been very badly off without you, sir.
Manders. And this is the way you repay me—by causing me to make false entries in the church registers, and afterwards keeping back from me for years the information which you owed it both to me and to your sense of the truth to divulge. Your conduct has been absolutely inexcusable, Engstrand, and from today everything is at an end between us.
Engstrand (with a sigh). Yes, I can see that's what it means.
Manders. Yes, because how can you possibly justify what you did?
Engstrand. Was the poor girl to go and increase her load of shame by talking about it? Just suppose, sir, for a moment that your reverence was in the same predicament as my poor Joanna.
Manders. I!
Engstrand. Good Lord, sir, I don't mean the same predicament. I mean, suppose there were something your reverence was ashamed of in the eyes of the world, so to speak. We men ought not judge a poor woman too hardly, Mr. Manders.
Manders. But I am not doing so at all. It is you I am blaming.