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 those 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.
Ella Rentheim.
[With a smile of scorn.] Do you still think that victory was worth the winning?
Mrs. Borkman.
[Darkly.] No; Heaven knows you are right there.
Ella Rentheim.
You need look for no victory worth the winning this time either.
