diff options
Diffstat (limited to '2467-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2467-h/2467-h.htm | 6253 |
1 files changed, 6253 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2467-h/2467-h.htm b/2467-h/2467-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..39dd64e --- /dev/null +++ b/2467-h/2467-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6253 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Ghosts, by Henrik Ibsen +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%;} + +P.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.dialog {text-indent: -5%; + margin-left: 5% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +P.stage {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Ghosts, by Henrik Ibsen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Ghosts + A Domestic Tragedy in Three Acts + +Author: Henrik Ibsen + +Illustrator: R. Farquharson Sharp + +Posting Date: February 27, 2010 [EBook #2467] +Release Date: January, 2001 +Last Updated: November 24, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GHOSTS *** + + + + +Produced by Martin Adamson. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +GHOSTS +</H1> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +A Domestic Tragedy in Three Acts +</H2> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +Henrik Ibsen +</H2> + +<BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Translated by R. Farquharson Sharp +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +DRAMATIS PERSONAE +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + Mrs. Alving (a widow).<BR> + Oswald Alving (her son, an artist).<BR> + Manders (the Pastor of the parish).<BR> + Engstrand (a carpenter).<BR> + Regina Engstrand (his daughter, in Mrs Alving's service).<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +(The action takes place at Mrs Alving's house on one of the larger +fjords of Western Norway.) +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +GHOSTS +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT I +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +(SCENE.—A large room looking upon a garden door in the left-hand wall, +and two in the right. In the middle of the room, a round table with +chairs set about it, and books, magazines and newspapers upon it. In +the foreground on the left, a window, by which is a small sofa with a +work-table in front of it. At the back the room opens into a +conservatory rather smaller than the room. From the right-hand side of +this, a door leads to the garden. Through the large panes of glass that +form the outer wall of the conservatory, a gloomy fjord landscape can +be discerned, half-obscured by steady rain. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +ENGSTRAND is standing close to the garden door. His left leg is +slightly deformed, and he wears a boot with a clump of wood under the +sole. REGINA, with an empty garden-syringe in her hand, is trying to +prevent his coming in.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (below her breath). What is it you want? Stay where you are. The +rain is dripping off you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. God's good rain, my girl. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. The Devil's own rain, that's what it is! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Lord, how you talk, Regina. (Takes a few limping steps +forward.) What I wanted to tell you was this— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Don't clump about like that, stupid! The young master is lying +asleep upstairs. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Asleep still? In the middle of the day? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Well, it's no business of yours. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I was out on a spree last night— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I don't doubt it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, we are poor weak mortals, my girl— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. We are indeed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. —and the temptations of the world are manifold, you +know—but, for all that, here I was at my work at half-past five this +morning. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, yes, but make yourself scarce now. I am not going to stand +here as if I had a rendezvous with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. As if you had a what? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I am not going to have anyone find you here; so now you know, +and you can go. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (coming a few steps nearer). Not a bit of it! Not before we +have had a little chat. This afternoon I shall have finished my job +down at the school house, and I shall be off home to town by tonight's +boat. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (mutters). Pleasant journey to you! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Thanks, my girl. Tomorrow is the opening of the Orphanage, +and I expect there will be a fine kick-up here and plenty of good +strong drink, don't you know. And no one shall say of Jacob Engstrand +that he can't hold off when temptation comes in his way. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oho! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, because there will be a lot of fine folk here tomorrow. +Parson Manders is expected from town, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina: What's more, he's coming today. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. There you are! And I'm going to be precious careful he +doesn't have anything to say against me, do you see? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, that's your game, is it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (with a significant look at him). What is it you want to humbug +Mr. Manders out of this time? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Sh! Sh! Are you crazy? Do you suppose I would want to humbug +Mr. Manders? No, no—Mr. Manders has always been too kind a friend for +me to do that. But what I wanted to talk to you about, was my going +back home tonight. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. The sooner you go, the better I shall be pleased. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, only I want to take you with me, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (open-mouthed). You want to take me—? What did you say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I want to take you home with me, I said. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (contemptuously). You will never get me home with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Ah, we shall see about that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, you can be quite certain we shall see about that. I, who +have been brought up by a lady like Mrs. Alving?—I, who have been +treated almost as if I were her own child?—do you suppose I am going +home with you?—to such a house as yours? Not likely! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What the devil do you mean? Are you setting yourself up +against your father, you hussy? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (mutters, without looking at him). You have often told me I was +none of yours. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Bah!—why do you want to pay any attention to that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Haven't you many and many a time abused me and called me a —? +For shame? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I'll swear I never used such an ugly word. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, it doesn't matter what word you used. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Besides, that was only when I was a bit fuddled...hm! +Temptations are manifold in this world, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Ugh! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. And it was when your mother was in a nasty temper. I had to +find some way of getting my knife into her, my girl. She was always so +precious gentile. (Mimicking her.) "Let go, Jacob! Let me be! Please to +remember that I was three years with the Alvings at Rosenvold, and they +were people who went to Court!" (Laughs.) Bless my soul, she never +could forget that Captain Alving got a Court appointment while she was +in service here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Poor mother—you worried her into her grave pretty soon. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (shrugging his shoulders). Of course, of course; I have got +to take the blame for everything. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (beneath her breath, as she turns away). Ugh—that leg, too! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What are you saying, my girl? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Pied de mouton. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Is that English? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You have had a good education out here, and no mistake; and +it may stand you in good stead now, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (after a short silence). And what was it you wanted me to come +to town for? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Need you ask why a father wants his only child? Ain't I a +poor lonely widower? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, don't come to me with that tale. Why do you want me to go? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, I must tell you I am thinking of taking up a new line +now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (whistles). You have tried that so often—but it has always +proved a fool's errand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Ah, but this time you will just see, Regina! Strike me dead +if— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (stamping her foot). Stop swearing! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Sh! Sh!—you're quite right, my girl, quite right! What I +wanted to say was only this, that I have put by a tidy penny out of +what I have made by working at this new Orphanage up here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Have you? All the better for you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What is there for a man to spend his money on, out here in +the country? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Well, what then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, you see, I thought of putting the money into something +that would pay. I thought of some kind of an eating-house for seafaring +folk— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Heavens! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Oh, a high-class eating-house, of course—not a pigsty for +common sailors. Damn it, no; it would be a place ships' captains and +first mates would come to; really good sort of people, you know. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. And what should I—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You would help there: But only to make show, you know. You +wouldn't find it hard work, I can promise you, my girl. You should do +exactly as you liked. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, yes, quite so! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. But we must have some women in the house; that is as clear +as daylight. Because in the evening we must make the place a little +attractive—some singing and dancing, and that sort of thing. Remember +they are seafolk—wayfarers on the waters of life! (Coming nearer to +her.) Now don't be a fool and stand in your own way, Regina. What good +are you going to do here? Will this education, that your mistress has +paid for, be of any use? You are to look after the children in the new +Home, I hear. Is that the sort of work for you? Are you so frightfully +anxious to go and wear out your health and strength for the sake of +these dirty brats? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. No, if things were to go as I want them to, then—. Well, it +may happen; who knows? It may happen! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What may happen? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Never you mind. Is it much that you have put by, up here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Taking it all round, I should say about forty or fifty +pounds. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. That's not so bad. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. It's enough to make a start with, my girl. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Don't you mean to give me any of the money? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. No, I'm hanged if I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Don't you mean to send me as much as a dress-length of stuff, +just for once? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Come and live in the town with me and you shall have plenty +of dresses. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina: Pooh!—I can get that much for myself, if I have a mind to. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. But it's far better to have a father's guiding hand, Regina. +Just now I can get a nice house in Little Harbour Street. They don't +want much money down for it—and we could make it like a sort of +seamen's home, don't you know. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. But I have no intention of living with you! I'll have nothing +whatever to do with you: So now, be off! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You wouldn't be living with me long, my girl. No such +luck—not if you knew how to play your cards. Such a fine wench as you +have grown this last year or two... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Well—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. It wouldn't be very long before some first mate came +along—or perhaps a captain. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I don't mean to marry a man of that sort. Sailors have no +savoir-vivre. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What haven't they got? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I know what sailors are, I tell you. They aren't the sort of +people to marry. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, don't bother about marrying them. You can make it pay +just as well. (More confidentially.) That fellow—the Englishman—the +one with the yacht—he gave seventy pounds, he did; and she wasn't a +bit prettier than you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (advancing towards him). Get out! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (stepping back). Here! here!—you're not going to hit me, I +suppose? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes! If you talk like that of mother, I will hit you. Get out, +I tell. You! (Pushes him up to the garden door.) And don't bang the +doors. Young Mr. Alving— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Is asleep—I know. It's funny how anxious you are about +young Mr. Alving. (In a lower tone.) Oho! is it possible that it is he +that—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Get out, and be quick about it! Your wits are wandering, my +good man. No, don't go that way; Mr. Manders is just coming along. Be +off down the kitchen stairs. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (moving towards the right). Yes, yes—all right. But have a +bit of a chat with him that's coming along. He's the chap to tell you +what a child owes to its father. For I am your father, anyway, you +know, I can prove it by the Register. (He goes out through the farther +door which REGINA has opened. She shuts it after him, looks hastily at +herself in the mirror, fans herself with her handkerchief and sets her +collar straight; then busies herself with the flowers. MANDERS enters +the conservatory through the garden door. He wears an overcoat, carries +an umbrella, and has a small travelling-bag slung over his shoulder on +a strap.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Good morning, Miss Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (turning round with a look of pleased surprise), Oh, Mr. +Manders, good morning. The boat is in, then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Just in. (Comes into the room.) It is most tiresome, this rain +every day. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (following him in). It's a splendid rain for the farmers, Mr. +Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, you are quite right. We townfolk think so little about +that. (Begins to take off his overcoat.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, let me help you. That's it. Why, how wet it is! I will hang +it up in the hall. Give me your umbrella, too; I will leave it open, so +that it will dry. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She goes out with the things by the farther door on the right. MANDERS +lays his bag and his hat down on a chair. REGINA re-enters.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah, it's very pleasant to get indoors. Well, is everything +going on well here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, thanks. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Properly busy, though, I expect, getting ready for tomorrow? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, yes, there is plenty to do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And Mrs. Alving is at home, I hope? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, she is. She has just gone upstairs to take the young +master his chocolate. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Tell me—I heard down at the pier that Oswald had come back. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, he came the day before yesterday. We didn't expect him +until today. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Strong and well, I hope? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, thank you, well enough. But dreadfully tired after his +journey. He came straight from Paris without a stop—I mean, he came +all the way without breaking his journey. I fancy he is having a sleep +now, so we must talk a little bit more quietly, if you don't mind. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. All right, we will be very quiet. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (while she moves an armchair up to the table), Please sit down, +Mr. Manders, and make yourself at home. (He sits down; she puts a +footstool under his feet.) There! Is that comfortable? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Thank you, thank you. That is most comfortable; (Looks at +her.) I'll tell you what, Miss Engstrand, I certainly think you have +grown since I saw you last. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Do you think so? Mrs. Alving says, too—that I have developed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Developed? Well, perhaps a little—just suitably. (A short +pause.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Shall I tell Mrs. Alving you are here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Thanks, there is no hurry, my dear child. Now tell me, Regina +my dear, how has your father been getting on here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Thank you, Mr. Manders, he is getting on pretty well. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He came to see me the last time he was in town. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Did he? He is always so glad when he can have a chat with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And I suppose you have seen him pretty regularly every day? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I? Oh, yes, I do—whenever I have time, that is to say. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Your father has not a very strong character, Miss Engstrand. +He sadly needs a guiding hand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, I can quite believe that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He needs someone with him that he can cling to, someone whose +judgment he can rely on. He acknowledged that freely himself, the last +time he came up to see me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, he has said something of the same sort to me. But I don't +know whether Mrs. Alving could do without me—most of all just now, +when we have the new Orphanage to see about. And I should be dreadfully +unwilling to leave Mrs. Alving, too; she has always been so good to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But a daughter's duty, my good child—. Naturally we should +have to get your mistress' consent first. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Still I don't know whether it would be quite the thing, at my +age, to keep house for a single man. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What! My dear Miss Engstrand, it is your own father we are +speaking of! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, I dare say, but still—. Now, if it were in a good house +and with a real gentleman— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But, my dear Regina! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. —one whom I could feel an affection for, and really feel in +the position of a daughter to... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Come, come—my dear good child— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I should like very much to live in town. Out here it is +terribly lonely; and you know yourself, Mr. Manders, what it is to be +alone in the world. And, though I say it, I really am both capable and +willing. Don't you know any place that would be suitable for me, Mr. +Manders? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I? No, indeed I don't. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. But, dear Mr. Manders—at any rate don't forget me, in case— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (getting up). No, I won't forget you, Miss Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Because, if I— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Perhaps you will be so kind as to let Mrs. Alving know I am +here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I will fetch her at once, Mr. Manders. (Goes out to the left. +MANDERS walks up and down the room once or twice, stands for a moment +at the farther end of the room with his hands behind his back and looks +out into the garden. Then he comes back to the table, takes up a book +and looks at the title page, gives a start, and looks at some of the +others.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Hm!—Really! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(MRS. ALVING comes in by the door on the left. She is followed by +REGINA, who goes out again at once through the nearer door on the +right.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (holding out her hand). I am very glad to see you, Mr. +Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. How do you do, Mrs. Alving. Here I am, as I promised. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Always punctual! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Indeed, I was hard put to it to get away. What with vestry +meetings and committees. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It was all the kinder of you to come in such good time; we +can settle our business before dinner. But where is your luggage? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (quickly). My things are down at the village shop. I am going +to sleep there tonight. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (repressing a smile). Can't I really persuade you to stay +the night here this time? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, no; many thanks all the same; I will put up there, as +usual. It is so handy for getting on board the boat again. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course, you shall do as you please. But it seems to me +quite another thing, now we are two old people— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ha! ha! You will have your joke! And it's natural you should +be in high spirits today—first of all there is the great event +tomorrow, and also you have got Oswald home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, am I not a lucky woman! It is more than two years +since he was home last, and he has promised to stay the whole winter +with me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders, Has he, really? That is very nice and filial of him; because +there must be many more attractions in his life in Rome or in Paris, I +should think. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, but he has his mother here, you see. Bless the dear +boy, he has got a corner in his heart for his mother still. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, it would be very sad if absence and preoccupation with +such a thing as Art were to dull the natural affections. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It would, indeed. But there is no fear of that with him, I +am glad to say. I am quite curious to see if you recognise him again. +He will be down directly; he is just lying down for a little on the +sofa upstairs. But do sit down, my dear friend. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Thank you. You are sure I am not disturbing you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course not. (She sits down at the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Good. Then I will show you—. (He goes to the chair where his +bag is lying and takes a packet of papers from it; then sits down at +the opposite side of the table and looks for a clear space to put the +papers down.) Now first of all, here is—(breaks off). Tell me, Mrs. +Alving, what are these books doing here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. These books? I am reading them, +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Do you read this sort of thing? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Certainly I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Do you feel any the better or the happier for reading books of +this kind? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I think it makes me, as it were, more self-reliant. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. That is remarkable. But why? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, they give me an explanation or a confirmation of +lots of different ideas that have come into my own mind. But what +surprises me, Mr. Manders, is that, properly speaking, there is nothing +at all new in these books. There is nothing more in them than what most +people think and believe. The only thing is, that most people either +take no account of it or won't admit it to themselves. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But, good heavens, do you seriously think that most people—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, indeed, I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But not here in the country at any rate? Not here amongst +people like ourselves? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, amongst people like ourselves too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well, really, I must say—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But what is the particular objection that you have to +these books? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What objection? You surely don't suppose that I take any +particular interest in such productions? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. In fact, you don't know anything about what you are +denouncing? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I have read quite enough about these books to disapprove of +them: +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, but your own opinion— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. My dear Mrs. Alving, there are many occasions in life when one +has to rely on the opinion of others. That is the way in this world, +and it is quite right that it should be so. What would become of +society, otherwise? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, you may be right. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Apart from that, naturally I don't deny that literature of +this kind may have a considerable attraction. And I cannot blame you, +either, for wishing to make yourself acquainted with the intellectual +tendencies which I am told are at work in the wider world in which you +have allowed your son to wander for so long but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (lowering his voice). But one doesn't talk about it, Mrs. +Alving. One certainly is not called upon to account to everyone for +what one reads or thinks in the privacy of one's own room. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Certainly not. I quite agree with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Just think of the consideration you owe to this Orphanage, +which you decided to build at a time when your thoughts on such +subjects were very different from what they are now—as far as I am +able to judge. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I freely admit that. But it was about the Orphanage... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It was about the Orphanage we were going to talk; quite so. +Well—walk warily, dear Mrs. Alving! And now let us turn to the +business in hand. (Opens an envelope and takes out some papers.) You +see these? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. The deeds? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, the whole lot—and everything in order; I can tell you it +has been no easy matter to get them in time. I had positively to put +pressure on the authorities; they are almost painfully conscientious +when it is a question of settling property. But here they are at last. +(Turns over the papers.) Here is the deed of conveyance of that part of +the Rosenvold estate known as the Solvik property, together with the +buildings newly erected thereon—the school, the masters' houses and +the chapel. And here is the legal sanction for the statutes of the +institution. Here, you see—(reads) "Statutes for the Captain Alving +Orphanage." +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (after a long look at the papers). That seems all in order. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I thought "Captain" was the better title to use, rather than +your husband's Court title of "Chamberlain." "Captain" seems less +ostentatious. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes; just as you think best. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And here is the certificate for the investment of the capital +in the bank, the interest being earmarked for the current expenses of +the Orphanage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Many thanks; but I think it will be most convenient if you +will kindly take charge of them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. With pleasure. I think it will be best to leave the money in +the bank for the present. The interest is not very high, it is true; +four per cent at six months' call; later on, if we can find some good +mortgage—of course it must be a first mortgage and on unexceptionable +security—we can consider the matter further. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes, my dear Mr. Manders, you know best about all +that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I will keep my eye on it, anyway. But there is one thing in +connection with it that I have often meant to ask you about. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What is that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Shall we insure the buildings, or not? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course we must insure them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah, but wait a moment, dear lady. Let us look into the matter +a little more closely. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Everything of mine is insured—the house and its contents, +my livestock—everything. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Naturally. They are your own property. I do exactly the same, +of course. But this, you see, is quite a different case. The Orphanage +is, so to speak, dedicated to higher uses. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Certainly, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. As far as I am personally concerned, I can conscientiously say +that I don't see the smallest objection to our insuring ourselves +against all risks. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That is exactly what I think. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But what about the opinion of the people hereabouts? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Their opinion—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Is there any considerable body of opinion here—opinion of +some account, I mean—that might take exception to it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What, exactly, do you mean by opinion of some account? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well, I was thinking particularly of persons of such +independent and influential position that one could hardly refuse to +attach weight to their opinion. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. There are a certain number of such people here, who might +perhaps take exception to it if we— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. That's just it, you see. In town there are lots of them. All +my fellow-clergymen's congregations, for instance! It would be so +extremely easy for them to interpret it as meaning that neither you nor +I had a proper reliance on Divine protection. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But as far as you are concerned, my dear friend, you have +at all events the consciousness that— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes I know I know; my own mind is quite easy about it, it is +true. But we should not be able to prevent a wrong and injurious +interpretation of our action. And that sort of thing, moreover, might +very easily end in exercising a hampering influence on the work of the +Orphanage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, well, if that is likely to be the effect of it— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Nor can I entirely overlook the difficult—indeed, I may say, +painful—position I might possibly be placed in. In the best circles in +town the matter of this Orphanage is attracting a great deal of +attention. Indeed the Orphanage is to some extent built for the benefit +of the town too, and it is to be hoped that it may result in the +lowering of our poor-rate by a considerable amount. But as I have been +your adviser in the matter and have taken charge of the business side +of it, I should be afraid that it would be I that spiteful persons +would attack first of all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, you ought not to expose yourself to that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Not to mention the attacks that would undoubtedly be made upon +me in certain newspapers and reviews. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Say no more about it, dear Mr. Manders; that quite decides +it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Then you don't wish it to be insured? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, we will give up the idea. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (leaning back in his chair). But suppose, now, that some +accident happened?—one can never tell—would you be prepared to make +good the damage? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No; I tell you quite plainly I would not do so under any +circumstances. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Still, you know, Mrs. Alving—after all, it is a serious +responsibility that we are taking upon ourselves. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But do you think we can do otherwise? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, that's just it. We really can't do otherwise. We ought not +to expose ourselves to a mistaken judgment; and we have no right to do +anything that will scandalise the community. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You ought not to, as a clergyman, at any rate. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And, what is more, I certainly think that we may count upon +our enterprise being attended by good fortune—indeed, that it will be +under a special protection. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Let us hope so, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Then we will leave it alone? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Certainly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Very good. As you wish. (Makes a note.) No insurance, then. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It's a funny thing that you should just have happened to +speak about that today— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I have often meant to ask you about it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. —because yesterday we very nearly had a fire up there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Do you mean it! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, as a matter of fact it was nothing of any consequence. +Some shavings in the carpenter's shop caught fire. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Where Engstrand works? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes. They say he is often so careless with matches. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He has so many things on his mind, poor fellow—so many +anxieties. Heaven be thanked, I am told he is really making an effort +to live a blameless life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Really? Who told you so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He assured me himself that it is so. He's good workman, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, yes, when he is sober. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah, that sad weakness of his! But the pain in his poor leg +often drives him to it, he tells me. The last time he was in town, I +was really quite touched by him. He came to my house and thanked me so +gratefully for getting him work here, where he could have the chance of +being with Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. He doesn't see very much of her. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But he assured me that he saw her every day. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh well, perhaps he does. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He feels so strongly that he needs someone who can keep a hold +on him when temptations assail him. That is the most winning thing +about Jacob Engstrand; he comes to one like a helpless child and +accuses himself and confesses his frailty. The last time he came and +had a talk with me... Suppose now, Mrs. Alving, that it were really a +necessity of his existence to have Regina at home with him again— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (standing up suddenly). Regina! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. —you ought not to set yourself against him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Indeed, I set myself very definitely against that. And, +besides, you know Regina is to have a post in the Orphanage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But consider, after all he is her father— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I know best what sort of a father he has been to her. No, +she shall never go to him with my consent. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (getting up). My dear lady, don't judge so hastily. It is very +sad how you misjudge poor Engstrand. One would really think you were +afraid... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (more calmly). That is not the question. I have taken +Regina into my charge, and in my charge she remains. (Listens.) Hush, +dear Mr. Manders, don't say any more about it. (Her face brightens with +pleasure.) Listen! Oswald is coming downstairs. We will only think +about him now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(OSWALD ALVING, in a light overcoat, hat in hand and smoking a big +meerschaum pipe, comes in by the door on the left.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (standing in the doorway). Oh, I beg your pardon, I thought you +were in the office. (Comes in.) Good morning, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (staring at him). Well! It's most extraordinary. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, what do you think of him, Mr. Manders? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I-I-no, can it possibly be—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, it really is the prodigal son, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, my dear young friend— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, the son came home, then. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald is thinking of the time when you were so opposed to +the idea of his being a painter. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. We are only fallible, and many steps seem to us hazardous at +first, that afterwards—(grasps his hand). Welcome, welcome! Really, my +dear Oswald—may I still call you Oswald? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What else would you think of calling me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Thank you. What I mean, my dear Oswald, is that you must not +imagine that I have any unqualified disapproval of the artist's life. I +admit that there are many who, even in that career, can keep the inner +man free from harm. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Let us hope so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (beaming with pleasure). I know one who has kept both the +inner and the outer man free from harm. Just take a look at him, Mr. +Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (walks across the room). Yes, yes, mother dear, of course. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Undoubtedly—no one can deny it. And I hear you have begun to +make a name for yourself. I have often seen mention of you in the +papers—and extremely favourable mention, too. Although, I must admit, +lately I have not seen your name so often. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (going towards the conservatory). I haven't done so much +painting just lately. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. An artist must take a rest sometimes, like other people. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Of course, of course. At those times the artist is preparing +and strengthening himself for a greater effort. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes. Mother, will dinner soon be ready? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. In half an hour. He has a fine appetite, thank goodness. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And a liking for tobacco too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I found father's pipe in the room upstairs, and— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah, that is what it was! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. When Oswald came in at that door with the pipe in his mouth, I +thought for the moment it was his father in the flesh. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Really? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. How can you say so! Oswald takes after me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, but there is an expression about the corners of his +mouth—something about the lips—that reminds me so exactly of Mr. +Alving—especially when he smokes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I don't think so at all. To my mind, Oswald has much more +of a clergyman's mouth. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. Well, yes—a good many of my colleagues in the church have a +similar expression. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But put your pipe down, my dear boy. I don't allow any +smoking in here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (puts down his pipe). All right, I only wanted to try it, +because I smoked it once when I was a child. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes; it was when I was quite a little chap. And I can remember +going upstairs to father's room one evening when he was in very good +spirits. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, you can't remember anything about those days. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, I remember plainly that he took me on his knee and let me +smoke his pipe. "Smoke, my boy," he said, "have a good smoke, boy!" And +I smoked as hard as I could, until I felt I was turning quite pale and +the perspiration was standing in great drops on my forehead. Then he +laughed—such a hearty laugh. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It was an extremely odd thing to do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Dear Mr. Manders, Oswald only dreamt it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. No indeed, mother, it was no dream. Because—don't you +remember—you came into the room and carried me off to the nursery, +where I was sick, and I saw that you were crying. Did father often play +such tricks? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. In his young days he was full of fun— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And, for all that, he did so much with his life—so much that +was good and useful, I mean—short as his life was. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, my dear Oswald Alving, you have inherited the name of a +man who undoubtedly was both energetic and worthy. Let us hope it will +be a spur to your energies. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. It ought to be, certainly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. In any case it was nice of you to come home for the day that +is to honour his memory. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I could do no less for my father. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And to let me keep him so long here—that's the nicest +part of what he has done. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, I hear you are going to spend the winter at home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I am here for an indefinite time, Mr. Manders.—Oh, it's good +to be at home again! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (beaming). Yes, isn't it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (looking sympathetically at him). You went out into the world +very young, my dear Oswald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I did. Sometimes I wonder if I wasn't too young. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Not a bit of it. It is the best thing for an active boy, +and especially for an only child. It's a pity when they are kept at +home with their parents and get spoiled. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. That is a very debatable question, Mrs. Alving. A child's own +home is, and always must be, his proper place. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. There I agree entirely with Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Take the case of your own son. Oh yes, we can talk about it +before him. What has the result been in his case? He is six or seven +and twenty, and has never yet had the opportunity of learning what a +well-regulated home means. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Excuse me, Mr. Manders, you are quite wrong there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Indeed? I imagined that your life abroad had practically been +spent entirely in artistic circles. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. So it has. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And chiefly amongst the younger artists. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Certainly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But I imagined that those gentry, as a rule, had not the means +necessary for family life and the support of a home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. There are a considerable number of them who have not the means +to marry, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. That is exactly my point. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But they can have a home of their own, all the same; a good +many of them have. And they are very well-regulated and very +comfortable homes, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(MRS. ALVING, who has listened to him attentively, nods assent, but +says nothing.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, but I am not talking of bachelor establishments. By a home +I mean family life—the life a man lives with his wife and children. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Exactly, or with his children and his children's mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (starts and clasps his hands). Good heavens! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What is the matter? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Lives with-with-his children's mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, would you rather he should repudiate his children's +mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Then what you are speaking of are those unprincipled +conditions known as irregular unions! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I have never noticed anything particularly unprincipled about +these people's lives. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But do you mean to say that it is possible for a man of any +sort of bringing up, and a young woman, to reconcile themselves to such +a way of living—and to make no secret of it, either! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What else are they to do? A poor artist, and a poor girl—it +costs a good deal to get married. What else are they to do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What are they to do? Well, Mr. Alving, I will tell you what +they ought to do. They ought to keep away from each other from the very +beginning—that is what they ought to do! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. That advice wouldn't have much effect upon hot-blooded young +folk who are in love. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, indeed it wouldn't. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (persistently). And to think that the authorities tolerate such +things! That they are allowed to go on, openly! (Turns to MRS. ALVING.) +Had I so little reason, then, to be sadly concerned about your son? In +circles where open immorality is rampant—where, one may say, it is +honoured— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Let me tell you this, Mr. Manders. I have been a constant +Sunday guest at one or two of these "irregular" households. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. On Sunday, too! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, that is the day of leisure. But never have I heard one +objectionable word there, still less have I ever seen anything that +could be called immoral. No; but do you know when and where I have met +with immorality in artists' circles? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, thank heaven, I don't! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, then, I shall have the pleasure of telling you. I have +met with it when someone or other of your model husbands and fathers +have come out there to have a bit of a look round on their own account, +and have done the artists the honour of looking them up in their humble +quarters. Then we had a chance of learning something, I can tell you. +These gentlemen were able to instruct us about places and things that +we had never so much as dreamt of. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What? Do you want me to believe that honourable men when they +get away from home will— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Have you never, when these same honourable men come home again, +heard them deliver themselves on the subject of the prevalence of +immorality abroad? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, of course, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I have heard them, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, you can take their word for it, unhesitatingly. Some of +them are experts in the matter. (Putting his hands to his head.) To +think that the glorious freedom of the beautiful life over there should +be so besmirched! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You mustn't get too heated, Oswald; you gain nothing by +that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. No, you are quite right, mother. Besides, it isn't good for me. +It's because I am so infernally tired, you know. I will go out and take +a turn before dinner. I beg your pardon, Mr. Manders. It is impossible +for you to realise the feeling; but it takes me that way (Goes out by +the farther door on the right.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My poor boy! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You may well say so. This is what it has brought him to! (MRS. +ALVING looks at him, but does not speak.) He called himself the +prodigal son. It's only too true, alas—only too true! (MRS. ALVING +looks steadily at him.) And what do you say to all this? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I say that Oswald was right in every single word he said. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Right? Right? To hold such principles as that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. In my loneliness here I have come to just the same +opinions as he, Mr. Manders. But I have never presumed to venture upon +such topics in conversation. Now there is no need; my boy shall speak +for me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You deserve the deepest pity, Mrs. Alving. It is my duty to +say an earnest word to you. It is no longer your businessman and +adviser, no longer your old friend and your dead husband's old friend, +that stands before you now. It is your priest that stands before you, +just as he did once at the most critical moment of your life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And what is it that my priest has to say to me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. First of all I must stir your memory. The moment is well +chosen. Tomorrow is the tenth anniversary of your husband's death; +tomorrow the memorial to the departed will be unveiled; tomorrow I +shall speak to the whole assembly that will be met together, But today +I want to speak to you alone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving, Very well, Mr. Manders, speak! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Have you forgotten that after barely a year of married life +you were standing at the very edge of a precipice?—that you forsook +your house and home? that you ran away from your husband—yes, Mrs. +Alving, ran away, ran away-=and refused to return to him in spite of +his requests and entreaties? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Have you forgotten how unspeakably unhappy I was during +that first year? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. To crave for happiness in this world is simply to be possessed +by a spirit of revolt. What right have we to happiness? No! we must do +our duty, Mrs. Alving. And your duty was to cleave to the man you had +chosen and to whom you were bound by a sacred bond. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You know quite well what sort of a life my husband was +living at that time—what excesses he was guilty of. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. I know only too well what rumour used to say of him; and I +should be the last person to approve of his conduct as a young man, +supposing that rumour spoke the truth. But it is not a wife's part to +be her husband's judge. You should have considered it your bounden duty +humbly to have borne the cross that a higher will had laid upon you. +But, instead of that, you rebelliously cast off your cross, you +deserted the man whose stumbling footsteps you should have supported, +you did what was bound to imperil your good name and reputation, and +came very near to imperilling the reputation of others into the bargain. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of others? Of one other, you mean. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It was the height of imprudence, your seeking refuge with me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. With our priest? With our intimate friend? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. All the more on that account; you should thank God that I +possessed the necessary strength of mind—that I was able to turn you +from your outrageous intention, and that it was vouchsafed to me to +succeed in leading you back into the path of duty, and back to your +lawful husband. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, Mr. Manders, that certainly was your doing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I was but the humble instrument of a higher power. And is it +not true that my having been able to bring you again under the yoke of +duty and obedience sowed the seeds of a rich blessing on all the rest +of your life? Did things not turn out as I foretold to you? Did not +your husband turn from straying in the wrong path, as a man should? Did +he not, after that, live a life of love and good report with you all +his days? Did he not become a benefactor to the neighbourhood? Did he +not so raise you up to his level, so that by degree you became his +fellow-worker in all his undertakings—and a noble fellow-worker, too. +I know, Mrs. Alving; that praise I will give you. But now I come to the +second serious false step in your life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders, Just as once you forsook your duty as a wife, so, since then, +you have forsaken your duty as a mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You have been overmastered all your life by a disastrous +spirit of willfulness. All your impulses have led you towards what is +undisciplined and lawless. You have never been willing to submit to any +restraint. Anything in life that has seemed irksome to you, you have +thrown aside recklessly and unscrupulously, as if it were a burden that +you were free to rid yourself of if you would. It did not please you to +be a wife any longer, and so you left your husband. Your duties as a +mother were irksome to you, so you sent your child away among strangers. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, that is true; I did that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. And that is why you have become a stranger to him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, no, I am not that! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You are; you must be. And what sort of a son is it that you +have got back? Think over it seriously, Mrs. Alving. You erred +grievously in your husband's case—you acknowledge as much, by erecting +this memorial to him. Now you are bound to acknowledge how much you +have erred in your son's case; possibly there may still be time to +reclaim him from the path of wickedness. Turn over a new leaf, and set +yourself to reform what there may still be that is capable of +reformation in him. Because (with uplifted forefinger) in very truth, +Mrs. Alving, you are a guilty mother!—That is what I have thought it +my duty to say to you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(A short silence.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (speaking slowly and with self-control). You have had your +say, Mr. Manders, and tomorrow you will be making a public speech in +memory of my husband. I shall not speak tomorrow. But now I wish to +speak to you for a little, just as you have been speaking to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. By all means; no doubt you wish to bring forward some excuses +for your behaviour. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No. I only want to tell you something— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. In all that you said just now about me and my husband, and +about our life together after you had, as you put it, led me back into +the path of duty—there was nothing that you knew at first hand. From +that moment you never again set foot in our house—you, who had been +our daily companion before that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Remember that you and your husband moved out of town +immediately afterwards. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, and you never once came out here to see us in my +husband's lifetime. It was only the business in connection with the +Orphanage that obliged you to come and see me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (in a low and uncertain voice). Helen—if that is a reproach, I +can only beg you to consider— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. —the respect you owed by your calling?—yes. All the more +as I was a wife who had tried to run away from her husband. One can +never be too careful to have nothing to do with such reckless women. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. My dear—Mrs. Alving, you are exaggerating dreadfully. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes,—very well. What I mean is this, that when you +condemn my conduct as a wife you have nothing more to go upon than +ordinary public opinion. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I admit it. What then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well now, Mr. Manders, now I am going to tell you the +truth. I had sworn to myself that you should know it one day—you, and +you only! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And what may the truth be? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. The truth is this, that my husband died just as great a +profligate as he had been all his life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (feeling for a chair). What are you saying? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. After nineteen years of married life, just as +profligate—in his desires at all events—as he was before you married +us. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And can you talk of his youthful indiscretions—his +irregularities—his excesses, if you like—as a profligate life! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That was what the doctor who attended him called it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I don't understand what you mean. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It is not necessary that you should. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It makes my brain reel. To think that your marriage—all the +years of wedded life you spent with your husband—were nothing but a +hidden abyss of misery. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That and nothing else. Now you know. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. This—this bewilders me. I can't understand it! I can't grasp +it! How in the world was it possible? How could such a state of things +remain concealed? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That was just what I had to fight for incessantly, day +after day. When Oswald was born, I thought I saw a slight improvement. +But it didn't last long. And after that I had to fight doubly +hard—fight a desperate fight so that no one should know what sort of a +man my child's father was. You know quite well what an attractive +manner he had; it seemed as if people could believe nothing but good of +him. He was one of those men whose mode of life seems to have no effect +upon their reputations. But at last, Mr. Manders—you must hear this +too—at last something happened more abominable than everything else. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. More abominable than what you have told me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I had borne with it all, though I knew only too well what +he indulged in in secret, when he was out of the house. But when it +came to the point of the scandal coming within our four walls— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Can you mean it! Here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, here, in our own home. It was in there (pointing to +the nearer door on the right) in the dining-room that I got the first +hint of it. I had something to do in there and the door was standing +ajar. I heard our maid come up from the garden with water for the +flowers in the conservatory. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Shortly afterwards I heard my husband come in too. I heard +him say something to her in a low voice. And then I heard—(with a +short laugh)—oh, it rings in my ears still, with its mixture of what +was heartbreaking and what was so ridiculous—I heard my own servant +whisper: "Let me go, Mr. Alving! Let me be!" +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What unseemly levity on his part! But surely nothing more than +levity, Mrs. Alving, believe me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I soon knew what to believe. My husband had his will of +the girl—and that intimacy had consequences, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (as if turned to stone). And all that in this house! In this +house! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I have suffered a good deal in this house. To keep him at +home in the evening—and at night—I have had to play the part of boon +companion in his secret drinking-bouts in his room up there. I have had +to sit there alone with him, have had to hobnob and drink with him, +have had to listen to his ribald senseless talk, have had to fight with +brute force to get him to bed— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (trembling). And you were able to endure all this! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I had my little boy, and endured it for his sake. But when +the crowning insult came—when my own servant—then I made up my mind +that there should be an end of it. I took the upper hand in the house, +absolutely—both with him and all the others. I had a weapon to use +against him, you see; he didn't dare to speak. It was then that Oswald +was sent away. He was about seven then, and was beginning to notice +things and ask questions as children will. I could endure all that, my +friend. It seemed to me that the child would be poisoned if he breathed +the air of this polluted house. That was why I sent him away. And now +you understand, too, why he never set foot here as long as his father +was alive. No one knows what it meant to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You have indeed had a pitiable experience. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I could never have gone through with it, if I had not had +my work. Indeed, I can boast that I have worked. All the increase in +the value of the property, all the improvements, all the useful +arrangements that my husband got the honour and glory of—do you +suppose that he troubled himself about any of them? He, who used to lie +the whole day on the sofa reading old official lists! No, you may as +well know that too. It was I that kept him up to the mark when he had +his lucid intervals; it was I that had to bear the whole burden of it +when he began his excesses again or took to whining about his miserable +condition. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And this is the man you are building a memorial to! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. There you see the power of an uneasy conscience. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. An uneasy conscience? What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I had always before me the fear that it was impossible +that the truth should not come out and be believed. That is why the +Orphanage is to exist, to silence all rumours and clear away all doubt. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You certainly have not fallen short of the mark in that, Mrs. +Alving. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I had another very good reason. I did not wish Oswald, my +own son, to inherit a penny that belonged to his father. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Then it is with Mr. Alving's property. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes. The sums of money that, year after year, I have given +towards this Orphanage, make up the amount of property—I have reckoned +it carefully—which in the old days made Lieutenant Alving a catch. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I understand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That was my purchase money. I don't wish it to pass into +Oswald's hands. My son shall have everything from me, I am determined. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(OSWALD comes in by the farther door on the right. He has left his hat +and coat outside.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Back again, my own dear boy? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, what can one do outside in this everlasting rain? I hear +dinner is nearly ready. That's good! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(REGINA comes in front the dining-room, carrying a parcel.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. This parcel has come for you, ma'am. (Gives it to her.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (glancing at MANDERS). The ode to be sung tomorrow, I +expect. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Hm—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. And dinner is ready. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Good. We will come in a moment. I will just—(begins to +open the parcel). +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (to OSWALD). Will you drink white or red wine, sir? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Both, Miss Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Bien—very good, Mr. Alving. (Goes into the dining-room.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I may as well help you to uncork it—. (Follows her into the +dining-room, leaving the door ajar after him.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I thought so. Here is the ode, Mr Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (clasping his hands). How shall I ever have the courage +tomorrow to speak the address that— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, you will get through it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (in a low voice, fearing to be heard in the dining room). Yes, +we must raise no suspicions. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (quietly but firmly). No; and then this long dreadful +comedy will be at an end. After tomorrow, I shall feel as if my dead +husband had never lived in this house. There will be no one else here +then but my boy and his mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(From the dining-room is heard the noise of a chair falling; then +REGINA'S voice is heard in a loud whisper: Oswald! Are you mad? Let me +go!) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (starting in horror). Oh—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She stares wildly at the half-open door. OSWALD is heard coughing and +humming, then the sound of a bottle being uncorked.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (in an agitated manner). What's the matter? What is it, Mrs. +Alving? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (hoarsely). Ghosts. The couple in the conservatory—over +again. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What are you saying! Regina—? Is SHE—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, Come. Not a word—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(Grips MANDERS by the arm and walks unsteadily with him into the +dining-room.) +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT II +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +(The same scene. The landscape is still obscured by Mist. MANDERS and +MRS. ALVING come in from the dining-room.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (calls into the dining-room from the doorway). Aren't you +coming in here, Oswald? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. No, thanks; I think I will go out for a bit. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, do; the weather is clearing a little. (She shuts the +dining-room door, then goes to the hall door and calls.) Regina! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (from without). Yes, ma'am? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Go down into the laundry and help with the garlands. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, ma'am. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(MRS. ALVING satisfies herself that she has gone, then shuts the door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I suppose he can't hear us? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Not when the door is shut. Besides, he is going out. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I am still quite bewildered. I don't know how I managed to +swallow a mouthful of your excellent dinner. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (walking up and down, and trying to control her agitation). +Nor I. But, what are we to do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, what are we to do? Upon my word I don't know; I am so +completely unaccustomed to things of this kind. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I am convinced that nothing serious has happened yet. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Heaven forbid! But it is most unseemly behaviour, for all that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It is nothing more than a foolish jest of Oswald's, you +may be sure. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well, of course, as I said, I am quite inexperienced in such +matters; but it certainly seems to me— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Out of the house she shall go—and at once. That part of +it is as clear as daylight— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, that is quite clear. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But where is she to go? We should not be justified in— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Where to? Home to her father, of course. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. To whom, did you say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. To her—. No, of course Engstrand isn't—. But, great heavens, +Mrs. Alving, how is such a thing possible? You surely may have been +mistaken, in spite of everything. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. There was no chance of mistake, more's the pity. Joanna +was obliged to confess it to me—and my husband couldn't deny it. So +there was nothing else to do but to hush it up. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, that was the only thing to do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. The girl was sent away at once, and was given a tolerably +liberal sum to hold her tongue. She looked after the rest herself when +she got to town. She renewed an old acquaintance with the carpenter +Engstrand; gave him a hint, I suppose, of how much money she had got, +and told him some fairy tale about a foreigner who had been here in his +yacht in the summer. So she and Engstrand were married in a great +hurry. Why, you married them yourself! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I can't understand it—, I remember clearly Engstrand's coming +to arrange about the marriage. He was full of contrition, and accused +himself bitterly for the light conduct he and his fiancee had been +guilty of. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course he had to take the blame on himself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But the deceitfulness of it! And with me, too! I positively +would not have believed it of Jacob Engstrand. I shall most certainly +give him a serious talking to. And the immorality of such a marriage! +Simply for the sake of the money—! What sum was it that the girl had? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It was seventy pounds. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Just think of it—for a paltry seventy pounds to let yourself +be bound in marriage to a fallen woman! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What about myself, then?—I let myself be bound in +marriage to a fallen man. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Heaven forgive you! What are you saying? A fallen man? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do you suppose my husband was any purer, when I went with +him to the altar, than Joanna was when Engstrand agreed to marry her? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. The two cases are as different as day from night. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Not so very different, after all. It is true there was a +great difference in the price paid, between a paltry seventy pounds and +a whole fortune. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. How can you compare such totally different things! I presume +you consulted your own heart—and your relations. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (looking away from him). I thought you understood where +what you call my heart had strayed to at that time. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (in a constrained voice). If I had understood anything of the +kind, I would not have been a daily guest in your husband's house. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, at any rate this much is certain—I didn't consult +myself in the matter at all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Still you consulted those nearest to you, as was only +right—your mother, your two aunts. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, that is true. The three of them settled the whole +matter for me. It seems incredible to me now, how clearly they made out +that it would be sheer folly to reject such an offer. If my mother +could only see what all that fine prospect has led to! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No one can be responsible for the result of it. Anyway there +is this to be said, that the match was made in complete conformity with +law and order. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going to the window). Oh, law and order! I often think it +is that that is at the bottom of all the misery in the world. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Mrs. Alving, it is very wicked of you to say that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That may be so; but I don't attach importance to those +obligations and considerations any longer. I cannot! I must struggle +for my freedom. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (taping on the window panes). I ought never to have +concealed what sort of a life my husband led. But I had not the courage +to do otherwise then—for my own sake, either. I was too much of a +coward. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. A coward? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. If others had known anything of what happened, they would +have said: "Poor man, it is natural enough that he should go astray, +when he has a wife that has run away from him." +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. They would have had a certain amount of justification for +saying so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (looking fixedly at him). If I had been the woman I ought, +I would have taken Oswald into my confidence and said to him: "Listen, +my son, your father was a dissolute man"— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Miserable woman. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. —and I would have told him all I have told you, from +beginning to end. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I am almost shocked at you, Mrs. Alving. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I know. I know quite well! I am shocked at myself when I +think of it. (Comes away from the window.) I am coward enough for that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Can you call it cowardice that you simply did your duty? Have +you forgotten that a child should love and honour his father and mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Don't let us talk in such general terms. Suppose we say: +"Ought Oswald to love and honour Mr. Alving?" +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You are a mother—isn't there a voice in your heart that +forbids you to shatter your son's ideals? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And what about the truth? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. What about his ideals? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh—ideals, ideals! If only I were not such a coward as I +am! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Do not spurn ideals, Mrs. Alving—they have a way of avenging +themselves cruelly. Take Oswald's own case, now. He hasn't many ideals, +more's the pity. But this much I have seen, that his father is +something of an ideal to him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You are right there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And his conception of his father is what you inspired and +encouraged by your letters. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I was swayed by duty and consideration for others; +that was why I lied to my son, year in and year out. Oh, what a +coward—what a coward I have been! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You have built up a happy illusion in your son's mind, Mrs. +Alving—and that is a thing you certainly ought not to undervalue. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Ah, who knows if that is such a desirable thing after +all!—But anyway I don't intend to put up with any goings on with +Regina. I am not going to let him get the poor girl into trouble. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Good heavens, no—that would be a frightful thing! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. If only I knew whether he meant it seriously, and whether +it would mean happiness for him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. In what way? I don't understand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But that is impossible; Regina is not equal to it, +unfortunately. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders, I don't understand: What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. If I were not such a miserable coward, I would say to him: +"Marry her, or make any arrangement you like with her—only let there +be no deceit in the matter." +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Heaven forgive you! Are you actually suggesting anything so +abominable, so unheard of, as a marriage between them! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Unheard of, do you call it? Tell me honestly, Mr. Manders, +don't you suppose there are plenty of married couples out here in the +country that are just as nearly related as they are? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I am sure I don't understand you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Indeed you do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I suppose you are thinking of cases where possibly—. It is +only too true, unfortunately, that family life is not always as +stainless as it should be. But as for the sort of thing you hint +at—well, it's impossible to tell, at all events, with any certainty. +Here on the other hand—for you, a mother, to be willing to allow your— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But I am not willing to allow it; I would not allow it for +anything in the world; that is just what I was saying. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, because you are a coward, as you put it. But, supposing +you were not a coward—! Great heavens—such a revolting union! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, for the matter of that, we are all descended from a +union of that description, so we are told. And who was it that was +responsible for this state of things, Mr. Manders? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I can't discuss such questions with you, Mrs. Alving; you are +by no means in the right frame of mind for that. But for you to dare to +say that it is cowardly of you—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I will tell you what I mean by that. I am frightened and +timid, because I am obsessed by the presence of ghosts that I never can +get rid of. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. The presence of what? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Ghosts. When I heard Regina and Oswald in there, it was +just like seeing ghosts before my eyes. I am half inclined to think we +are all ghosts, Mr. Manders. It is not only what we have inherited from +our fathers and mothers that exists again in us, but all sorts of old +dead ideas and all kinds of old dead beliefs and things of that kind. +They are not actually alive in us; but there they are dormant, all the +same, and we can never be rid of them. Whenever I take up a newspaper +and read it, I fancy I see ghosts creeping between the lines. There +must be ghosts all over the world. They must be as countless as the +grains of the sands, it seems to me. And we are so miserably afraid of +the light, all of us. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah!—there we have the outcome of your reading. Fine fruit it +has borne—this abominable, subversive, free-thinking literature! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You are wrong there, my friend. You are the one who made +me begin to think; and I owe you my best thanks for it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. I! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, by forcing me to submit to what you called my duty +and my obligations; by praising as right and lust what my whole soul +revolted against, as it would against something abominable. That was +what led me to examine your teachings critically. I only wanted to +unravel one point in them; but as soon as I had got that unravelled, +the whole fabric came to pieces. And then I realised that it was only +machine-made. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (softly, and with emotion). Is that all I accomplished by the +hardest struggle of my life? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Call it rather the most ignominious defeat of your life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It was the greatest victory of my life, Helen; victory over +myself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It was a wrong done to both of us. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. A wrong?—wrong for me to entreat you as a wife to go back to +your lawful husband, when you came to me half distracted and crying: +"Here I am, take me!" Was that a wrong? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I think it was. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. We two do not understand one another. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Not now, at all events. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Never—even in my most secret thoughts—have I for a moment +regarded you as anything but the wife of another. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do you believe what you say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Helen—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. One so easily forgets one's own feelings. Manders. Not I. +I am the same as I always was. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes—don't let us talk any more about the old days. +You are buried up to your eyes now in committees and all sorts of +business; and I am here, fighting with ghosts both without and within +me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I can at all events help you to get the better of those +without you. After all that I have been horrified to hear you from +today, I cannot conscientiously allow a young defenceless girl to +remain in your house. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Don't you think it would be best if we could get her +settled?—by some suitable marriage, I mean. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Undoubtedly. I think, in any case, it would have been +desirable for her. Regina is at an age now that—well, I don't know +much about these things, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina developed very early. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, didn't she. I fancy I remember thinking she was +remarkably well developed, bodily, at the time I prepared her for +Confirmation. But, for the time being, she must in any case go home. +Under her father's care—no, but of course Engstrand is not. To think +that he, of all men, could so conceal the truth from me! (A knock is +heard at the hall door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Who can that be? Come in! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(ENGSTRAND, dressed in his Sunday clothes, appears in the doorway.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I humbly beg pardon, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Aha! Hm! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, it's you, Engstrand! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. There were none of the maids about, so I took the great +liberty of knocking. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That's all right. Come in. Do you want to speak to me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (coming in). No, thank you very much, ma'am. It was Mr. +Menders I wanted to speak to for a moment. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (walking up and down). Hm!—do you. You want to speak to me, do +you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, sir, I wanted so very much to— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (stopping in front of him). Well, may I ask what it is you want? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. It's this way, Mr. Manders. We are being paid off now. And +many thanks to you, Mrs. Alving. And now the work is quite finished, I +thought it would be so nice and suitable if all of us, who have worked +so honestly together all this time, were to finish up with a few +prayers this evening. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Prayers? Up at the Orphanage? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, sir, but if it isn't agreeable to you, then— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, certainly—but—hm!— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I have made a practice of saying a few prayers there myself +each evening. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Have you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, ma'am, now—and then—just as a little edification, so +to speak. But I am only a poor common man, and haven't rightly the +gift, alas—and so I thought that as Mr. Manders happened to be here, +perhaps— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Look here, Engstrand! First of all I must ask you a question. +Are you in a proper frame of mind for such a thing? Is your conscience +free and untroubled? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Heaven have mercy on me a sinner! My conscience isn't worth +our speaking about, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But it is just what we must speak about. What do you say to my +question? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. My conscience? Well—it's uneasy sometimes, of course. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ah, you admit that at all events. Now will you tell me, +without any concealment—what is your relationship to Regina? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (hastily). Mr. Manders! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (calming her).—Leave it to me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. With Regina? Good Lord, how you frightened me! (Looks at MRS +ALVING.) There is nothing wrong with Regina, is there? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Let us hope not. What I want to know is, what is your +relationship to her? You pass as her father, don't you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (unsteadily): Well—hm!—you know, sir, what happened between +me and my poor Joanna. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No more distortion of the truth! Your late wife made a full +confession to Mrs. Alving, before she left her service... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. What!—do you mean to say—? Did she do that after all? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You see it has all come out, Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Do you mean to say that she, who gave me her promise and +solemn oath— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Did she take an oath? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, no—she only gave me her word, but as seriously as a +woman could. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And all these years you have been hiding the truth from +me—from me, who have had such complete and absolute faith in you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I am sorry to say I have, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Did I deserve that from you, Engstrand? Haven't I been always +ready to help you in word and deed as far as lay in my power? Answer +me! Is it not so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Indeed there's many a time I should have been very badly off +without you, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And this is the way you repay me—by causing me to make false +entries in the church registers, and afterwards keeping back from me +for years the information which you owed it both to me and to your +sense of the truth to divulge. Your conduct has been absolutely +inexcusable, Engstrand, and from today everything is at an end between +us. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (with a sigh). Yes, I can see that's what it means. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, because how can you possibly justify what you did? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Was the poor girl to go and increase her load of shame by +talking about it? Just suppose, sir, for a moment that your reverence +was in the same predicament as my poor Joanna. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Good Lord, sir, I don't mean the same predicament. I mean, +suppose there were something your reverence was ashamed of in the eyes +of the world, so to speak. We men ought not judge a poor woman too +hardly, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But I am not doing so at all. It is you I am blaming. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Will your reverence grant me leave to ask you a small +question? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Ask away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Shouldn't you say it was right for a man to raise up the +fallen? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Of course it is. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. And isn't a man bound to keep his word of honour? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Certainly he is; but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. At the time when Joanna had her misfortune with this +Englishman—or maybe he was an American or a Russian, as they call +'em—well, sir, then she came to town. Poor thing, she had refused me +once or twice before; she only had eyes for good-looking men in those +days, and I had this crooked leg then. Your reverence will remember how +I had ventured up into a dancing-saloon where seafaring men were +revelling in drunkenness and intoxication, as they say. And when I +tried to exhort them to turn from their evil ways— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (coughs from the window). Ahem! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I know, Engstrand, I know—the rough brutes threw you +downstairs. You have told me about that incident before. The affliction +to your leg is a credit to you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I don't want to claim credit for it, your reverence. But +what I wanted to tell you was that she came then and confided in me +with tears and gnashing of teeth. I can tell you, sir, it went to my +heart to hear her. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Did it, indeed, Engstrand? Well, what then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, then I said to her: "The American is roaming about on +the high seas, he is. And you, Joanna," I said, "you have committed a +sin and are a fallen woman. But here stands Jacob Engstrand," I said, +"on two strong legs"—of course that was only speaking in a kind of +metaphor, as it were, your reverence. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I quite understand. Go on. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Well, sir, that was how I rescued her and made her my lawful +wife, so that no one should know how recklessly she had carried on with +the stranger. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. That was all very kindly done. The only thing I cannot justify +was your bringing yourself to accept the money. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Money? I? Not a farthing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (to MRS. ALVING, in a questioning tare). But— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Ah, yes!—wait a bit; I remember now. Joanna did have a +trifle of money, you are quite right. But I didn't want to know +anything about that. "Fie," I said, "on the mammon of unrighteousness, +it's the price of your sin; as for this tainted gold"—or notes, or +whatever it was—"we will throw it back in the American's face," I +said. But he had gone away and disappeared on the stormy seas, your +reverence. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Was that how it was, my good fellow? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. It was, sir. So then Joanna and I decided that the money +should go towards the child's bringing-up, and that's what became of +it; and I can give a faithful account of every single penny of it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. This alters the complexion of the affair very considerably. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. That's how it was, your reverence. And I make bold to say +that I have been a good father to Regina—as far as was in my +power—for I am a poor erring mortal, alas! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. There, there, my dear Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, I do make bold to say that I brought up the child, and +made my poor Joanna a loving and careful husband, as the Bible says we +ought. But it never occurred to me to go to your reverence and claim +credit for it or boast about it because I had done one good deed in +this world. No; when Jacob Engstrand does a thing like that, he holds +his tongue about it. Unfortunately it doesn't often happen, I know that +only too well. And whenever I do come to see your reverence, I never +seem to have anything but trouble and wickedness to talk about. +Because, as I said just now—and I say it again—conscience can be very +hard on us sometimes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Give me your hand, Jacob Engstrand, +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Oh, sir, I don't like— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No nonsense, (Grasps his hand.) That's it! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. And may I make bold humbly to beg your reverence's pardon— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. You? On the contrary it is for me to beg your pardon— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Oh no, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, certainly it is, and I do it with my whole heart. Forgive +me for having so much misjudged you. And I assure you that if I can do +anything for you to prove my sincere regret and my goodwill towards +you— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Do you mean it, sir? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. It would give me the greatest pleasure. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. As a matter of fact, sir, you could do it now. I am thinking +of using the honest money I have put away out of my wages up here, in +establishing a sort of Sailors' Home in the town. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, to be a sort of Refuge, as it were, There are such +manifold temptations lying in wait for sailor men when they are roaming +about on shore. But my idea is that in this house of mine they should +have a sort of parental care looking after them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. What do you say to that, Mrs. Alving! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I haven't much to begin such a work with, I know; but Heaven +might prosper it, and if I found any helping hand stretched out to me, +then— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Quite so; we will talk over the matter further. Your project +attracts me enormously. But in the meantime go back to the Orphanage +and put everything tidy and light the lights, so that the occasion may +seem a little solemn. And then we will spend a little edifying time +together, my dear Engstrand, for now I am sure you are in a suitable +frame of mind. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. I believe I am, sir, truly. Goodbye, then, Mrs. Alving, and +thank you for all your kindness; and take good care of Regina for me. +(Wipes a tear from his eye.) Poor Joanna's child—it is an +extraordinary thing, but she seems to have grown into my life and to +hold me by the heartstrings. That's how I feel about it, truly. (Bows, +and goes out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Now then, what do you think of him, Mrs Alving! That was quite +another explanation that he gave us. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It was, indeed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. There, you see how exceedingly careful we ought to be in +condemning our fellow-men. But at the same time it gives one genuine +pleasure to find that one was mistaken. Don't you think so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What I think is that you are, and always will remain, a +big baby, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Menders. I? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (laying her hands on his shoulders). And I think that I +should like very much to give you a good hug. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (drawing beck hastily). No, no, good gracious! What an idea! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (with a smile). Oh, you needn't be afraid of me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (standing by the table). You choose such an extravagant way of +expressing yourself sometimes. Now I must get these papers together and +put them in my bag. (Does so.) That's it. And now goodbye, for the +present. Keep your eyes open when Oswald comes back. I will come back +and see you again presently. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(He takes his hat and goes out by the hall door. MRS. ALVING sighs, +glances out of the window, puts one or two things tidy in the room and +turns to go into the dining-room. She stops in the doorway with a +stifled cry.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald, are you still sitting at table! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (from the dining-room). I am only finishing my cigar. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I thought you had gone out for a little turn. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (from within the room). In weather like this? (A glass is heard +clinking. MRS. ALVING leaves the door open and sits down with her +knitting on the couch by the window.) Wasn't that Mr. Manders that went +out just now? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, he has gone over to the Orphanage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh. (The clink of a bottle on a glass is heard again.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (with an uneasy expression.) Oswald, dear, you should be +careful with that liqueur. It is strong. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. It's a good protective against the damp. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Wouldn't you rather come in here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You know you don't like smoking in there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You may smoke a cigar in here, certainly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. All right; I will come in, then. Just one drop more. There! +(Comes in, smoking a cigar, and shuts the door after him. A short +silence.) Where has the parson gone? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I told you he had gone over to the Orphanage. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh, so you did. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You shouldn't sit so long at table, Oswald, +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (holding his cigar behind his back). But it's so nice and cosy, +mother dear. (Caresses her with one hand.) Think what it means to +me—to have come home; to sit at my mother's own table, in my mother's +own room, and to enjoy the charming meals she gives me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My dear, dear boy! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (a little impatiently, as he walks tip and down smoking.) And +what else is there for me to do here? I have no occupation— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No occupation? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Not in this ghastly weather, when there isn't a blink of +sunshine all day long. (Walks up and down the floor.) Not to be able to +work, it's—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I don't believe you were wise to come home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, mother; I had to. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Because I would ten times rather give up the happiness of +having you with me, sooner than that you should— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (standing still by the table). Tell me, mother—is it really +such a great happiness for you to have me at home? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Can you ask? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (crumpling up a newspaper). I should have thought it would have +been pretty much the same to you whether I were here or away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Have you the heart to say that to your mother, Oswald? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But you have been quite happy living without me so far. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I have lived without you—that is true. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(A silence. The dusk falls by degrees. OSWALD walks restlessly up and +down. He has laid aside his cigar.) Oswald (stopping beside MRS. +ALVING). Mother, may I sit on the couch beside you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course, my dear boy. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (sitting down). Now I must tell you something mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (anxiously). What? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (staring in front of him). I can't bear it any longer. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Bear what? What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (as before). I couldn't bring myself to write to you about it; +and since I have been at home— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (catching him by the arm). Oswald, what is it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Both yesterday and today I have tried to push my thoughts away +from me—to free myself from them. But I can't. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (getting up). You must speak plainly, Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (drawing her down to her seat again). Sit still, and I will try +and tell you. I have made a great deal of the fatigue I felt after my +journey— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, what of that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But that isn't what is the matter. It is no ordinary fatigue— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (trying to get up). You are not ill, Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (pulling her down again). Sit still, mother. Do take it quietly. +I am not exactly ill—not ill in the usual sense. (Takes his head in +his hands.) Mother, it's my mind that has broken down—gone to +pieces—I shall never be able to work anymore! (Buries his face in his +hands and throws himself at her knees in an outburst of sobs.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (pale and trembling). Oswald! Look at me! No, no, it isn't +true! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (looking up with a distracted expression). Never to be able to +work anymore! Never—never! A living death! Mother, can you imagine +anything so horrible! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My poor unhappy boy? How has this terrible thing happened? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (sitting up again). That is just what I cannot possibly +understand. I have never lived recklessly, in any sense. You must +believe that of me, mother, I have never done that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I haven't a doubt of it, Oswald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And yet this comes upon me all the same; this terrible disaster! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oh, but it will all come right again, my dear precious +boy. It is nothing but overwork. Believe me, that is so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (dully). I thought so too, at first; but it isn't so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Tell me all about it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, I will. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. When did you first feel anything? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. It was just after I had been home last time and had got back to +Paris. I began to feel the most violent pains in my head—mostly at the +back, I think. It was as if a tight band of iron was pressing on me +from my neck upwards. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. At first I thought it was nothing but the headaches I always +used to be so much troubled with while I was growing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But it wasn't; I soon saw that. I couldn't work any longer. I +would try and start some big new picture; but it seemed as if all my +faculties had forsaken me, as if all my strengths were paralysed. I +couldn't manage to collect my thoughts; my head seemed to +swim—everything went round and round. It was a horrible feeling! At +last I sent for a doctor—and from him I learned the truth. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. In what way, do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. He was one of the best doctors there. He made me describe what +I felt, and then he began to ask me a whole heap of questions which +seemed to me to have nothing to do with the matter. I couldn't see what +he was driving at— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. At last he said: "You have had the canker of disease in you +practically from your birth"—the actual word he used was "vermoulu"... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (anxiously). What did he mean by that? Oswald. I couldn't +understand, either—and I asked him for a clearer explanation, And then +the old cynic said—(clenching his fist). Oh! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What did he say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. He said: "The sins of the fathers are visited on the children." +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (getting up slowly). The sins of the fathers—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I nearly struck him in the face. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (walking across the room). The sins of the fathers—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (smiling sadly). Yes, just imagine! Naturally I assured him that +what he thought was impossible. But do you think he paid any heed to +me? No, he persisted in his opinion; and it was only when I got out +your letters and translated to him all the passages that referred to my +father— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well, and then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, then of course he had to admit that he was on the wrong +track; and then I learned the truth—the incomprehensible truth! I +ought to have had nothing to do with the joyous happy life I had lived +with my comrades. It had been too much for my strength. So it was my +own fault! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, no, Oswald! Don't believe that— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. There was no other explanation of it possible, he said. That is +the most horrible part of it. My whole life incurably ruined—just +because of my own imprudence. All that I wanted to do in the world-=not +to dare to think of it any more—not to be able to think of it! Oh! if +only I could live my life over again—if only I could undo what I have +done! (Throws himself on his face on the couch. MRS. ALVING wrings her +hands, and walks up and down silently fighting with herself.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (looks up after a while, raising himself on his elbows). If only +it had been something I had inherited—something I could not help. But, +instead of that, to have disgracefully, stupidly, thoughtlessly thrown +away one's happiness, one's health, everything in the world—one's +future, one's life! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, no, my darling boy; that is impossible! (Bending over +him.) Things are not so desperate as you think. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Ah, you don't know—(Springs up.) And to think, mother, that I +should bring all this sorrow upon you! Many a time I have almost wished +and hoped that you really did not care so very much for me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I, Oswald? My only son! All that I have in the world! The +only thing I care about! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (taking hold of her hands and kissing them). Yes, yes, I know +that is so. When I am at home I know that is true. And that is one of +the hardest parts of it to me. But now you know all about it; and now +we won't talk anymore about it today. I can't stand thinking about it +long at a time. (Walks across the room.) Let me have something to +drink, mother! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. To drink? What do you want? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh, anything you like. I suppose you have got some punch in the +house. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, but my dear Oswald—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Don't tell me I mustn't, mother. Do be nice! I must have +something to drown these gnawing thoughts. (Goes into the +conservatory.) And how—how gloomy it is here! (MRS. ALVING rings the +bell.) And this incessant rain. It may go on week after week—a whole +month. Never a ray of sunshine. I don't remember ever having seen the +sunshine once when I have been at home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald—you are thinking of going away from me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Hm!—(sighs deeply). I am not thinking about anything. I can't +think about anything! (In a low voice.) I have to let that alone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (coming from the dining-room). Did you ring, ma'am? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, let us have the lamp in. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. In a moment, ma'am; it is all ready lit. (Goes out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going up to OSWALD). Oswald, don't keep anything back from +me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I don't, mother. (Goes to the table.) It seems to me I have +told you a good lot. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(REGINA brings the lamp and puts it upon the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina, you might bring us a small bottle of champagne. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, ma'am. (Goes out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (taking hold of his mother's face). That's right; I knew my +mother wouldn't let her son go thirsty. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My poor dear boy, how could I refuse you anything now? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (eagerly). Is that true, mother? Do you mean it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Mean what? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. That you couldn't deny me anything? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My dear Oswald— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Hush! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(REGINA brings in a tray with a small bottle of champagne and two +glasses, which she puts on the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Shall I open the bottle? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. No, thank you, I will do it. (REGINA goes out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (sitting clown at the table). What did you mean, when you +asked if I could refuse you nothing? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (busy opening the bottle). Let us have a glass first—or two. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(He draws the cork, fills one glass and is going to fill the other.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (holding her hand over the second glass) No, thanks—not +for me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh, well, for me then! (He empties his glass, fills it again +and empties it; then sits down at the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (expectantly). Now, tell me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (without looking at her). Tell me this; I thought you and Mr. +Manders seemed so strange—so quiet—at dinner. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Did you notice that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes. Ahem! (After a short pause.) Tell me—what do you think of +Regina? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What do I think of her? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, isn't she splendid! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Dear Oswald, you don't know her as well as I do— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What of that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina was too long at home, unfortunately. I ought to +have taken her under my charge sooner. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, but isn't she splendid to look at, mother? (Fills his +glass,) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina has many serious faults— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, but what of that? (Drinks.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But I am fond of her, all the same; and I have made myself +responsible for her. I wouldn't for the world she should come to any +harm. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (jumping up). Mother, Regina is my only hope of salvation! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (getting up). What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I can't go on bearing all this agony of mind alone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving, Haven't you your mother to help you to bear it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, I thought so; that was why I came home to you. But it is +no use; I see that it isn't. I cannot spend my life here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I must live a different sort of life, mother; so I shall have +to go away from you, I don't want you watching it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My unhappy boy! But, Oswald, as long as you are ill like +this— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. If it was only a matter of feeling ill, I would stay with you, +mother. You are the best friend I have in the world. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I am that, Oswald, am I not? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (walking restlessly about). But all this torment—the regret, +the remorse—and the deadly fear. Oh—this horrible fear! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (following him). Fear? Fear of what? What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh, don't ask me any more about it. I don't know what it is. I +can't put it into words. (MRS. ALVING crosses the room and rings the +bell.) What do you want? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I want my boy to be happy, that's what I want. He mustn't +brood over anything. (To REGINA, who has come to the door.) More +champagne—a large bottle. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Mother! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do you think we country people don't know how to live? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Isn't she splendid to look at? What a figure! And the picture +of health! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (sitting down at the table). Sit down, Oswald, and let us +have a quiet talk. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (sitting down). You don't know, mother, that I owe Regina a +little reparation. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Oh, it was only a little thoughtlessness—call it what you +like. Something quite innocent, anyway. The last time I was home— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. —she used often to ask me questions about Paris, and I told +her one thing and another about the life there. And I remember saying +one day: "Wouldn't you like to go there yourself?" +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I saw her blush, and she said: "Yes, I should like to very +much." "All right." I said, "I daresay it might be managed"—or +something of that sort. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I naturally had forgotten all about it; but the day before +yesterday I happened to ask her if she was glad I was to be so long at +home— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. —and she looked so queerly at me, and asked: "But what is to +become of my trip to Paris?" +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Her trip! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And then I got it out of her that she had taken the thing +seriously, and had been thinking about me all the time, and had set +herself to learn French— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. So that was why— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Mother—when I saw this fine, splendid, handsome girl standing +there in front of me—I had never paid any attention to her before +then—but now, when she stood there as if with open arms ready for me +to take her to myself— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. —then I realised that my salvation lay in her, for I saw the +joy of life in her! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (starting back). The joy of life—? Is there salvation in +that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (coming in from the dining-room with a bottle of champagne). +Excuse me for being so long; but I had to go to the cellar. (Puts the +bottle down on the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Bring another glass, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (looking at him in astonishment). The mistress's glass is there, +sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, but fetch one for yourself, Regina (REGINA starts, and +gives a quick shy glance at MRS. ALVING.) Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (in a low and hesitating voice). Do you wish me to, ma'am? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Fetch the glass, Regina. (REGINA goes into the +dining-room.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (looking after her). Have you noticed how well she walks?—so +firmly and confidently! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It cannot be, Oswald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +Oswald. It is settled. You must see that. It is no use forbidding it. +(REGINA comes in with a glass, which she holds in her hand.) Sit down, +Regina. (REGINA looks questioningly at MRS. ALVING.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Sit down. (REGINA sits down on a chair near the +dining-room door, still holding the glass in her hand.) Oswald, what +was it you were saying about the joy of life? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Ah, mother—the joy of life! You don't know very much about +that at home here. I shall never realise it here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Not even when you are with me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Never at home. But you can't understand that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, indeed I almost think I do understand you now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. That—and the joy of work. They are really the same thing at +bottom. Put you don't know anything about that either. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Perhaps you are right. Tell me some more about it, Oswald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, all I mean is that here people are brought up to believe +that work is a curse and a punishment for sin, and that life is a state +of wretchedness and that the sooner we can get out of it the better. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. A vale of tears, yes. And we quite conscientiously make +it so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But the people over there will have none of that. There is no +one there who really believes doctrines of that kind any longer. Over +there the mere fact of being alive is thought to be a matter for +exultant happiness. Mother, have you noticed that everything I have +painted has turned upon the joy of life?—always upon the joy of life, +unfailingly. There is light there, and sunshine, and a holiday +feeling—and people's faces beaming with happiness. That is why I am +afraid to stay at home here with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Afraid? What are you afraid of here, with me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I am afraid that all these feelings that are so strong in me +would degenerate into something ugly here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (looking steadily at him). Do you think that is what would +happen? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I am certain it would. Even if one lived the same life at home +here, as over there—it would never really be the same life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (who has listened anxiously to him, gets up with a +thoughtful expression and says:) Now I see clearly how it all happened. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What do you see? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I see it now for the first time. And now I can speak. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (getting up). Mother, I don't understand you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (who has got up also). Perhaps I had better go. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No, stay here. Now I can speak. Now, my son, you shall +know the whole truth. Oswald! Regina! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Hush!—here is the parson. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(MANDERS comes in by the hall door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Well, my friends, we have been spending an edifying time over +there. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. So have we. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Engstrand must have help with his Sailors Home. Regina must go +home with him and give him her assistance. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. No, thank you, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (perceiving her for the first time). What—? You in here? —and +with a wineglass in your hand! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (putting down the glass hastily). I beg your pardon—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Regina is going away with me, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Going away! With you! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, as my wife—if she insists on that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But, good heavens—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. It is not my fault, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Or else she stays here if I stay. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (involuntarily). Here! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I am amazed at you, Mrs. Alving. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Neither of those things will happen, for now I can speak +openly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But you won't do that! No, no, no! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, I can and I will. And without destroying anyone's +ideals. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Mother, what is it that is being concealed from me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (listening). Mrs. Alving! Listen! They are shouting outside. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(Goes into the conservatory and looks out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (going to the window on the left). What can be the matter? Where +does that glare come from? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (calls out). The Orphanage is on fire! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going to the window). On fire? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. On fire? Impossible. I was there just a moment ago. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Where is my hat? Oh, never mind that. Father's Orphanage—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(Runs out through the garden door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My shawl, Regina! The whole place is in flames. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. How terrible! Mrs. Alving, that fire is a judgment on this +house of sin! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Quite so. Come, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She and REGINA hurry out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (clasping his hands). And no insurance! (Follows them out.) +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT III +</H3> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> +(The same scene. All the doors are standing open. The lamp is still +burning on the table. It is dark outside, except for a faint glimmer of +light seen through the windows at the back. MRS. ALVING, with a shawl +over her head, is standing in the conservatory, looking out. REGINA, +also wrapped in a shawl, is standing a little behind her.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Everything bured—down to the ground. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. It is burning still in the basement. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I can't think why Oswald doesn't come back. There is no +chance of saving anything. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Shall I go and take his hat to him? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Hasn't he even got his hat? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (pointing to the hall). No, there it is, hanging up. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Never mind. He is sure to come back soon. I will go and +see what he is doing. (Goes out by the garden door. MANDERS comes in +from the hall.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Isn't Mrs. Alving here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. She has just this moment gone down into the garden. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I have never spent such a terrible night in my life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Isn't it a shocking misfortune, sir! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, don't speak about it. I scarcely dare to think about it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. But how can it have happened? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Don't ask me, Miss Engstrand! How should I know? Are you going +to suggest too—? Isn't it enough that your father—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. What has he done? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. He has nearly driven me crazy. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (coming in from the hall). Mr. Manders—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (turning round with a start). Have you ever followed me here! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, God help us all—! Great heavens! What a dreadful +thing, your reverence! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (walking up and down). Oh dear, oh dear! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Our little prayer-meeting was the cause of it all, don't you +see? (Aside, to REGINA.) Now we've got the old fool, my girl. (Aloud.) +And to think it is my fault that Mr. Manders should be the cause of +such a thing! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I assure you, Engstrand— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. But there was no one else carrying a light there except you, +sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (standing still). Yes, so you say. But I have no clear +recollection of having had a light in my hand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. But I saw quite distinctly your reverence take a candle and +snuff it with your fingers and throw away the burning bit of wick among +the shavings. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Did you see that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, distinctly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I can't understand it at all. It is never my habit to snuff a +candle with my fingers. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Yes, it wasn't like you to do that, sir. But, who would have +thought it could be such a dangerous thing to do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (walking restlessly backwards and forwards) Oh, don't ask me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (following him about). And you hadn't insured it either, had +you, sir? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, no, no; you heard me say so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You hadn't insured it—and then went and set light to the +whole place! Good Lord, what bad luck! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (wiping the perspiration from his forehead). You may well say +so, Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. And that it should happen to a charitable institution that +would have been of service both to the town and the country, so to +speak! The newspapers won't be very kind to your reverence, I expect. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, that is just what I am thinking of. It is almost the worst +part of the whole thing. The spiteful attacks and accusations—it is +horrible to think of! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (coming in from the garden). I can't get him away from the +fire. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, there you are, Mrs. Alving. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You will escape having to make your inaugural address now, +at all events, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Oh, I would so gladly have— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (in a dull voice). It is just as well it has happened. This +Orphanage would never have come to any good. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Don't you think so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. But it is none the less an extraordinary piece of ill luck. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. We will discuss it simply as a business matter. Are you +waiting for Mr. Manders, Engstrand? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (at the hall door). Yes, I am. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Sit down then, while you are waiting. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. Thank you, I would rather stand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (to MANDERS). I suppose you are going by the boat? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes: It goes in about an hour— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Please take all the documents back with you. I don't want +to hear another word about the matter. I have something else to think +about now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Mrs. Alving— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Later on I will send you a power of attorney to deal with +it exactly as you please. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. I shall be most happy to undertake that; I am afraid the +original intention of the bequest will have to be entirely altered now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Meanders. Provisionally, I should suggest this way of disposing of it: +Make over the Solvik property to the parish. The land is undoubtedly +not without a certain value; it will always be useful for some purpose +or another. And as for the interest on the remaining capital that is on +deposit in the bank, possibly I might make suitable use of that in +support of some undertaking that promises to be of use to the town. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do exactly as you please. The whole thing is a matter of +indifference to me now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You will think of my Sailors' Home, Mr. Manders? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, certainly, that is a suggestion. But we must consider the +matter carefully. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (aside). Consider!—devil take it! Oh Lord. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (sighing). And unfortunately I can't tell how much longer I may +have anything to do with the matter—whether public opinion may not +force me to retire from it altogether. That depends entirely upon the +result of the inquiry into the cause of the fire. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What do you say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. And one cannot in any way reckon upon the result beforehand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (going nearer to him). Yes, indeed one can; because here +stand I, Jacob Engstrand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Quite so, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (lowering his voice). And Jacob Engstrand isn't the man to +desert a worthy benefactor in the hour of need, as the saying is. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Yes, but, my dear fellow-how—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. You might say Jacob Engstrand is an angel of salvation, so +to speak, your reverence. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. No, no, I couldn't possibly accept that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand. That's how it will be, all the same. I know someone who has +taken the blame for someone else on his shoulders before now, I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Jacob! (Grasps his hand.) You are one in a thousand! You shall +have assistance in the matter of your Sailors' Home, you may rely upon +that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(ENGSTRAND tries to thank him, but is prevented by emotion.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (hanging his wallet over his shoulder). Now we must be off. We +will travel together. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (by the dining-room door, says aside to REGINA). Come with +me, you hussy! You shall be as cosy as the yolk in an egg! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (tossing her head). Merci! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She goes out into the hall and brings back MANDERS' luggage.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders. Good-bye, Mrs. Alving! And may the spirit of order and of what +is lawful speedily enter into this house. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Goodbye, Mr. Manders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She goes into the conservatory, as she sees OSWALD coming in by the +garden door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Engstrand (as he and REGINA are helping MANDERS on with his coat). +Goodbye, my child. And if anything should happen to you, you know where +Jacob Engstrand is to be found. (Lowering his voice.) Little Harbour +Street, ahem—! (To MRS. ALVING and OSWALD.) And my house for poor +seafaring men shall be called the "Alving Home," it shall. And, if I +can carry out my own ideas about it, I shall make bold to hope that it +may be worthy of bearing the late Mr. Alving's name. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Manders (at the door). Ahem—ahem! Come along, my dear Engstrand. +Goodbye—goodbye! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(He and ENGSTRAND go out by the hall door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (going to the table). What house was he speaking about? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I believe it is some sort of a Home that he and Mr. +Manders want to start. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. It will be burned up just like this one. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What makes you think that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Everything will be burned up; nothing will be left that is in +memory of my father. Here am I being burned up, too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(REGINA looks at him in alarm.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald! You should not have stayed so long over there, my +poor boy. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (sitting down at the table). I almost believe you are right. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Let me dry your face, Oswald; you are all wet. (Wipes his +face with her handkerchief.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (looking straight before him, with no expression in his eyes). +Thank you, mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And aren't you tired, Oswald? Don't you want to go to +sleep? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (uneasily). No, no—not to sleep! I never sleep; I only pretend +to. (Gloomily.) That will come soon enough. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (looking at him anxiously). Anyhow you are really ill, my +darling boy. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (intently). Is Mr. Alving ill? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (impatiently). And do shut all the doors! This deadly fear— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Shut the doors, Regina. (REGINA shuts the doors and +remains standing by the hall door. MRS. ALVING takes off her shawl; +REGINA does the same. MRS. ALVING draws up a chair near to OSWALD'S and +sits down beside him.) That's it! Now I will sit beside you— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, do. And Regina must stay in here too; Regina must always +be near me. You must give me a helping hand, you know, Regina. Won't +you do that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. I don't understand— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. A helping hand? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes—when there is need for it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Oswald, have you not your mother to give you a helping +hand? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You? (Smiles.) No, mother, you will never give me the kind of +helping hand I mean. (Laughs grimly.) You! Ha, ha! (Looks gravely at +her.) After all, you have the best right. (Impetuously.) Why don't you +call me by my Christian name, Regina? Why don't you say Oswald? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (in a low voice). I did not think Mrs. Alving would like it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It will not be long before you have the right to do it. +Sit down here now beside us, too. (REGINA sits down quietly and +hesitatingly at the other side of the table.) And now, my poor tortured +boy, I am going to take the burden off your mind— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You, mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. —all that you call remorse and regret and self-reproach. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And you think you can do that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, now I can, Oswald. A little while ago you were +talking about the joy of life, and what you said seemed to shed a new +light upon everything in my whole life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (shaking his head). I don't in the least understand what you +mean. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You should have known your father in his young days in the +army. He was full of the joy of life, I can tell you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, I know. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It gave me a holiday feeling only to look at him, full of +irrepressible energy and exuberant spirits. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving, Well, then this boy, full of the joy of life—for he was +just like a boy, then—had to make his home in a second-rate town which +had none of the joy of life to offer him, but only dissipations. He had +to come out here and live an aimless life; he had only an official +post. He had no work worth devoting his whole mind to; he had nothing +more than official routine to attend to. He had not a single companion +capable of appreciating what the joy of life meant; nothing but idlers +and tipplers... +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Mother—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And so the inevitable happened! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What was the inevitable? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You said yourself this evening what would happen in your +case if you stayed at home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Do you mean by that, that father—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Your poor father never found any outlet for the +overmastering joy of life that was in him. And I brought no holiday +spirit into his home, either. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You didn't, either? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I had been taught about duty, and the sort of thing that I +believed in so long here. Everything seemed to turn upon duty—my duty, +or his duty—and I am afraid I made your poor father's home unbearable +to him, Oswald. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Why didn't you ever say anything about it to me in your letters? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I never looked at it as a thing I could speak of to you, +who were his son. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What way did you look at it, then? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I only saw the one fact, that your father was a lost man +before ever you were born. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (in a choking voice). Ah—! (He gets up and goes to the window.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And then I had the one thought in my mind, day and night, +that Regina in fact had as good a right in this house—as my own boy +had. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (turns round suddenly), Regina—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (gets up and asks in choking tones). I—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, now you both know it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Regina! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (to herself). So mother was one of that sort too. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Your mother had many good qualities, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, but she was one of that sort too, all the same. I have +even thought so myself, sometimes, but—. Then, if you please, Mrs. +Alving, may I have permission to leave at once? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Do you really wish to, Regina? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Yes, indeed, I certainly wish to. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Of course you shall do as you like, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (going up to REGINA). Leave now? This is your home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Merci, Mr. Alving—oh, of course I may say Oswald now, but that +is not the way I thought it would become allowable. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina, I have not been open with you— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. No, I can't say you have! If I had known Oswald was ill— And +now that there can never be anything serious between us—. No, I really +can't stay here in the country and wear myself out looking after +invalids. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Not even for the sake of one who has so near a claim on you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. No, indeed I can't. A poor girl must make some use of her +youth, otherwise she may easily land herself out in the cold before she +knows where she is. And I have got the joy of life in me too, Mrs. +Alving! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, unfortunately; but don't throw yourself away, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Oh, what's going to happen will happen. If Oswald takes after +his father, it is just as likely I take after my mother, I expect.—May +I ask, Mrs. Alving, whether Mr. Manders knows this about me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Mr. Manders knows everything. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (putting on her shawl). Oh, well then, the best thing I can do +is to get away by the boat as soon as I can. Mr. Manders is such a nice +gentleman to deal with; and it certainly seems to me that I have just +as much right to some of that money as he—as that horrid carpenter. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You are quite welcome to it, Regina. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina (looking at her fixedly). You might as well have brought me up +like a gentleman's daughter; it would have been more suitable. (Tosses +her head.) Oh, well—never mind! (With a bitter glance at the unopened +bottle.) I daresay someday I shall be drinking champagne with +gentlefolk, after all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. If ever you need a home, Regina, come to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. No, thank you, Mrs. Alving. Mr. Manders takes an interest in +me, I know. And if things should go very badly with me, I know one +house at any rate where I shall feel at home. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Where is that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. In the "Alving Home." +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Regina—I can see quite well—you are going to your ruin! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Regina. Pooh!—goodbye. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(She bows to them and goes out through the hall.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (standing by the window and looking out). Has she gone? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (muttering to himself). I think it's all wrong. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going up to him from behind and putting her hands on his +shoulders). Oswald, my dear boy—has it been a great shock to you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (turning his face towards her). All this about father, do you +mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, about your unhappy father. I am so afraid it may have +been too much for you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What makes you think that? Naturally it has taken me entirely +by surprise; but, after all, I don't know that it matters much to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (drawing back her hands). Doesn't matter!—that your +father's life was such a terrible failure! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Of course I can feel sympathy for him, just as I would for +anyone else, but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. No more than that! For your own father! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (impatiently). Father—father! I never knew anything of my +father. I don't remember anything else about him except that he once +made me sick. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It is dreadful to think of!—But surely a child should +feel some affection for his father, whatever happens? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. When the child has nothing to thank his father for? When he has +never known him? Do you really cling to that antiquated +superstition—you, who are so broad-minded in other things? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You call it nothing but a superstition! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, and you can see that for yourself quite well, mother. It +is one of those beliefs that are put into circulation in the world, +and— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Ghosts of beliefs! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (walking across the room). Yes, you might call them ghosts. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (with an outburst of feeling). Oswald! then you don't love +me either! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You I know, at any rate— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You know me, yes; but is that all? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And I know how fond you are of me, and I ought to be grateful +to you for that. Besides, you can be so tremendously useful to me, now +that I am ill. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, can't I, Oswald! I could almost bless your illness, +as it has driven you home to me. For I see quite well that you are not +my very own yet; you must be won. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (impatiently). Yes, yes, yes; all that is just a way of talking. +You must remember I am a sick man, mother. I can't concern myself much +with anyone else; I have enough to do, thinking about myself. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (gently). I will be very good and patient. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And cheerful too, mother! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, my dear boy, you are quite right. (Goes up to him.) +Now have I taken away all your remorse and self-reproach? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, you have done that. But who will take away the fear? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. The fear? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (crossing the room). Regina would have done it for one kind word. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I don't understand you. What fear do you mean—and what +has Regina to do with it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Is it very late, mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. It is early morning. (Looks out through the conservatory +windows.) The dawn is breaking already on the heights. And the sky is +clear, Oswald. In a little while you will see the sun. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I am glad of that. After all, there may be many things yet for +me to be glad of and to live for— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I should hope so! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Even if I am not able to work— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You will soon find you are able to work again now, my dear +boy. You have no longer all those painful depressing thoughts to brood +over. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. No, it is a good thing that you have been able to rid me of +those fancies; if only, now, I could overcome this one thing— (Sits +down on the couch.) Let us have a little chat, mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, let us. (Pushes an armchair near to the couch and +sits down beside him.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. The sun is rising—and you know all about it; so I don't feel +the fear any longer. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I know all about what? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (without listening to her). Mother, isn't it the case that you +said this evening there was nothing in the world you would not do for +me if I asked you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, certainly I said so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. And will you be as good as your word, mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. You may rely upon that, my own dear boy. I have nothing +else to live for, but you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, yes; well, listen to me, mother, You are very +strong-minded, I know. I want you to sit quite quiet when you hear what +I am going to tell you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. But what is this dreadful thing—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. You mustn't scream. Do you hear? Will you promise me that? We +are going to sit and talk it over quite quietly. Will you promise me +that, mother? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes, I promise—only tell me what it is. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, then, you must know that this fatigue of mine—and my mot +being able to think about my work—all that is not really the illness +itself— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What is the illness itself? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. What I am suffering from is hereditary; it—(touches his +forehead, and speaks very quietly)—it lies here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (almost speechless). Oswald! No—no! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Don't scream; I can't stand it. Yes, I tell you, it lies here, +waiting. And any time, any moment, it may break out. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. How horrible—! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Do keep quiet. That is the state I am in— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (springing up). It isn't true, Oswald! It is impossible! It +can't be that! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I had one attack while I was abroad. It passed off quickly. But +when I learned the condition I had been in, then this dreadful haunting +fear took possession of me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. That was the fear, then— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes, it is so indescribably horrible, you know If only it had +been an ordinary mortal disease—. I am not so much afraid of dying; +though, of course, I should like to live as long as I can. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes, Oswald, you must! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. But this is so appallingly horrible. To become like a helpless +child again—to have to be fed, to have to be—. Oh, it's unspeakable! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. My child has his mother to tend him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (jumping up). No, never; that is just what I won't endure! I +dare not think what it would mean to linger on like that for years—to +get old and grey like that. And you might die before I did. (Sits down +in MRS. ALVING'S chair.) Because it doesn't necessarily have a fatal +end quickly, the doctor said; he called it a kind of softening of the +brain—or something of that sort. (Smiles mournfully.) I think that +expression sounds so nice. It always makes me think of cherry-coloured +velvet curtains—something that is soft to stroke. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (with a scream). Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (jumps up and walks about the room). And now you have taken +Regina from me! If I had only had her, she would have given me a +helping hand, I know. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going up to him). What do you mean, my darling boy? Is +there any help in the world I would not be willing to give you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. When I had recovered from the attack I had abroad, the doctor +told me that when it recurred—and it will recur—there would be no +more hope. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. And he was heartless enough to— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I insisted on knowing. I told him I had arrangements to make—. +(Smiles cunningly.) And so I had. (Takes a small box from his inner +breast-pocket.) Mother, do you see this? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. What is it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Morphia powders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (looking at him in terror). Oswald—my boy! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. I have twelve of them saved up— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (snatching at it). Give me the box, Oswald! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Not yet, mother. (Puts it lack in his pocket.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I shall never get over this! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald, You must. If I had had Regina here now, I would have told her +quietly how things stand with me—and asked her to give me this last +helping hand. She would have helped me, I am certain. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Never! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. If this horrible thing had come upon me and she had seen me +lying helpless, like a baby, past help, past saving, past hope—with no +chance of recovering— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Never in the world would Regina have done it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Regina would have done it. Regina was so splendidly +light-hearted. And she would very soon have tired of looking after an +invalid like me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Then thank heaven Regina is not here! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Well, now you have got to give me that helping hand, mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (with a loud scream). I! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Who has a better right than you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I! Your mother! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Just for that reason. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. I, who gave you your life! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald, I never asked you for life. And what kind of a life was it that +you gave me? I don't want it! You shall take it back! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. Help! Help! (Runs into the hall.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (following her). Don't leave me! Where are you going? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (in the hall). To fetch the doctor to you, Oswald! Let me +out! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (going into the hall). You shan't go out. And no one shall come +in. (Turns the key in the lock.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (coming in again). Oswald! Oswald!—my child! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (following her). Have you a mother's heart—and can bear to see +me suffering this unspeakable terror? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (controlling herself, after a moment's silence). There is +my hand on it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Will you—? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving. If it becomes necessary. But it shan't become necessary: +No, no—it is impossible it should! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Let us hope so. And let us live together as long as we can. +Thank you, mother. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> +(He sits down in the armchair, which MRS. ALVING had moved beside the +couch. Day is breaking; the lamp is still burning on the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (coming cautiously nearer). Do you feel calmer now? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald. Yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (bending over him). It has only been a dreadful fancy of +yours, Oswald. Nothing but fancy. All this upset has been bad for you. +But now you will get some rest, at home with your own mother, my +darling boy. You shall have everything you want, just as you did when +you were a little child.—There, now. The attack is over. You see how +easily it passed off! I knew it would.—And look, Oswald, what a lovely +day we are going to have? Brilliant sunshine. Now you will be able to +see your home properly. (She goes to the table and puts out the lamp. +It is sunrise. The glaciers and peaks in the distance are seen bathed +in bright morning fight.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (who has been sitting motionless in the armchair, with his back +to the scene outside, suddenly says:) Mother, give me the sun. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (standing at the table, and looking at him in amazement). +What do you say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (repeats in a dull, toneless voice). The sun—the sun. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (going up to him). Oswald, what is the matter with you? +(OSWALD seems to shrink up in the chair; all his muscles relax; his +face loses its expression, and his eyes stare stupidly. MRS. ALVING is +trembling with terror.) What is it! (Screams.) Oswald! What is the +matter with you! (Throws herself on her knees beside him and shakes +him.) Oswald! Oswald! Look at me! Don't you know me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (in an expressionless voice, as before). The sun—the sun. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Mrs. Alving (jumps up despairingly, beats her head with her hands, and +screams). I can't bear it! (Whispers as though paralysed with fear.) I +can't bear it... I Never! (Suddenly.) Where has he got it? (Passes her +hand quickly over his coat.) Here! (Draws back a little spay and +cries:) No, no, no!—Yes!—no, no! (She stands a few steps from him, +her hands thrust into her hair, and stares at him in speechless terror.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +Oswald (sitting motionless, as before). The sun—the sun. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Ghosts, by Henrik Ibsen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GHOSTS *** + +***** This file should be named 2467-h.htm or 2467-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/2467/ + +Produced by Martin Adamson. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</BODY> + +</HTML> + + |