ELLA RENTHEIM.
[Shaking her head.] You neither know it nor believe it, Gunhild.
MRS. BORKMAN.
I don't believe it!
ELLA RENTHEIM. It is only a dream that you cherish. For if you hadn't that to cling to, you feel that you would utterly despair.
MRS. BORKMAN. Yes, indeed I should despair. [Vehemently.] And I daresay that is what you would like to see, Ella!
ELLA RENTHEIM. [With head erect.] Yes, I would rather see that than see you "redeem" yourself at Erhart's expense.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Threateningly.] You want to come between us? Between mother and son? You?
ELLA RENTHEIM.
I want to free him from your power—your will—your despotism.
MRS. BORKMAN. [Triumphantly.] You are too late! You had him in your nets all these years—until he was fifteen. But now I have won him again, you see!
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Then I will win him back from you! [Hoarsely, half whispering.]
We two have fought a life-and-death battle before, Gunhild—for a
man's soul!
MRS. BORKMAN.
[Looking at her in triumph.] Yes, and I won the victory.