Mrs. Borkman.
[Not listening to her.] I will raise the monument over your grave.
Borkman.
The pillar of shame, I suppose you mean?
Mrs. Borkman.
[With increasing excitement.] Oh, no, it shall be no pillar of metal or stone. And no one shall be suffered to carve any scornful legend on the monument I shall raise. There shall be, as it were, a quickset hedge of trees and bushes, close, close around your tomb. They shall hide away all the darkness that has been. The eyes of men and the thoughts of men shall no longer dwell on John Gabriel Borkman!
Borkman.
[Hoarsely and cuttingly.] And this labour of love you will perform?
Mrs. Borkman.
Not by my own strength. I cannot think of that. But I have brought up one to help me, who shall live for this alone. His life shall be so pure and high and bright, that your burrowing in the dark shall be as though it had never been!