[Continuing undisturbed.] Listen, Erhart—will you not cast in your lot with your father? It is not through any other man’s life that a man who has fallen can be raised up again. These are only empty fables that have been told to you down here in the airless room. If you were to set yourself to live your life like all the saints together, it would be of no use whatever to me.
Erhart.
[With measured respectfulness.] That is very true indeed.
Borkman.
Yes, it is. And it would be of no use either if I should resign myself to wither away in abject penitence. I have tried to feed myself upon hopes and dreams, all through these years. But I am not the man to be content with that; and now I mean to have done with dreaming.
Erhart.
[With a slight bow.] And what will—what will you do, sir?
Borkman.
I will work out my own redemption, that is what I will do. I will begin at the bottom again. It is only through his present and his future that a man can atone for his past. Through work, indefatigable work, for all that, in my youth, seemed to give life its meaning—and that now seems a thousand times greater than it did then. Erhart, will you join with me and help me in this new life?
Mrs. Borkman.