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.
Regina. And what should I--?
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.
Regina. Oh, yes, quite so!
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?
Regina. No, if things were to go as I want them to, then--. Well, it may happen; who knows? It may happen!
Engstrand. What may happen?
Regina. Never you mind. Is it much that you have put by, up here?
Engstrand. Taking it all round, I should say about forty or fifty pounds.
Regina. That's not so bad.
Engstrand. It's enough to make a start with, my girl.
Regina. Don't you mean to give me any of the money?
Engstrand. No, I'm hanged if I do.
Regina. Don't you mean to send me as much as a dress-length of stuff, just for once?
Engstrand. Come and live in the town with me and you shall have plenty of dresses.
Regina: Pooh!--I can get that much for myself, if I have a mind to.
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.
Regina. But I have no intention of living with you! I'll have nothing whatever to do with you: So now, be off!
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...
Regina. Well--?
Engstrand. It wouldn't be very long before some first mate came along-- or perhaps a captain.
Regina. I don't mean to marry a man of that sort. Sailors have no savoir-vivre.
Engstrand. What haven't they got?
Regina. I know what sailors are, I tell you. They aren't the sort of people to marry.
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.
Regina (advancing towards him). Get out!
Engstrand (stepping back). Here! here!--you're not going to hit me, I suppose?
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--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--?
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.
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.)Manders. Good morning, Miss Engstrand.
Regina (turning round with a look of pleased. surprise), Oh, Mr. Manders, good morning. The boat is in, then?
Manders. Just in. (Comes into the room.) It is most tiresome, this rain every day.
Regina (following him in). It's a splendid rain for the farmers, Mr. Manders.
Manders. Yes, you are quite right. We townfolk think so little about that. (Begins to take off his overcoat.)Regina. Oh, let me help you. That's it. Why, how wet it is! Iwill hang it up in the hall. Give me your umbrella, too; I will leave it open, so that it will dry.
(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.)
Manders. Ah, it's very pleasant to get indoors. Well, is everything going on well here?
Regina. Yes, thanks.
Manders. Properly busy, though, I expect, getting ready for tomorrow?
Regina. Oh, yes, there is plenty to do.
Manders. And Mrs. Alving is at home, I hope?
Regina. Yes, she is. She has just gone upstairs to take the young master his chocolate.
Manders. Tell me--I heard down at the pier that Oswald had come back.
Regina. Yes, he came the day before yesterday. We didn't expect him until today.
Manders. Strong and well, I hope?
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.
Manders. All right, we will be very quiet.
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?
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.
Regina. Do you think so? Mrs. Alving says, too-- that I have developed.
