AUDR. I was comparing the delights of three different professions,--the soldier's, the doctor's, and the priest's. What a glorious joy it must be to ride to meet a man who is riding to kill you--_and to kill him!_ But I'd rather be a doctor, and play with life and death. To have a man in your power, to see him lying tossing on his bed, and to think, "This may cure him, or it may kill him. Shall I risk it? At any rate, if he dies, I shall have learnt so much. I will risk it! And--he dies--No, he lives! I've saved him." Wouldn't you like to be a doctor? MICH. No. AUDR. That's because you know what far greater joy it is to be a priest. (_He turns very angrily._) To play with people's souls---- MICH. Play! AUDR. You do play with our souls, don't you? They're in your hands. To think, "This man, or, say, this woman, has an immortal soul. She is vain, silly, deceitful, foolish, perhaps wicked, perhaps horribly wicked. She'll lose her soul and be eternally lost. But if I were to struggle with her for it, rebuke her, teach her, plead with her, entreat her, guide her--who knows--she's not wholly bad--I might save her? Is she worth saving? The worse she is, the greater will be my reward and honour for having saved her. Shall I do it? This woman's soul is in my keeping! I can choose for her eternal life or eternal death. What shall I do? Shall I save her, or let her be lost?" MICH. (_comes eagerly to the window_). Do you mean that? AUDR. Mean what? MICH. That your soul is in my keeping? AUDR. Not at all. I meant nothing except that thoughts like these must constantly stray through a priest's mind. Don't they? (_Long pause._) Why don't you speak? MICH. (_cold, stern_). I have nothing to say. (_Pause._) AUDR. (_taking out purse, taking out two notes_). Oh! I was forgetting--I've brought you a little contribution for the restoration of your Minster. (_Putting notes on window-sill. MICHAEL stands cold, angry._) AUDR. Won't you take it? MICH. Thank you. No. AUDR. I think you're a little rude to me. I came as a heart-stricken penitent; you wouldn't accept me in that character. Then I came as a pious donor. You wouldn't accept me in that. You've kept me outside here--you haven't even asked me in. MICH. (_very sternly_). Come in! (_She looks up, uncertain as to his intentions._) (_Same cold, stern voice._) Please to come in. That way--the outer door is open. (_She goes off, he goes to door left, opens it, she comes in._)