Oswald (in a choking voice). Ah--! (He gets up and goes to the window.)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.
Oswald (turns round suddenly), Regina--?
Regina (gets up and asks in choking tones). I--?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, now you both know it.
Oswald. Regina!
Regina (to herself). So mother was one of that sort too.
Mrs. Alving. Your mother had many good qualities, Regina.
Regina. Yes, but she was one of that sort too, all the same. Ihave even thought so myself, sometimes, but--. Then, if you please, Mrs. Alving, may I have permission to leave at once?
Mrs. Alving. Do you really wish to, Regina?
Regina. Yes, indeed, I certainly wish to.
Mrs. Alving. Of course you shall do as you like, but--Oswald (going up to REGINA). Leave now? This is your home.
Regina. Merci, Mr. Alving--oh, of course I may say Oswald now, but that is not the way I thought it would become allowable.
Mrs. Alving. Regina, I have not been open with you--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.
Oswald. Not even for the sake of one who has so near a claim on you?
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!
Mrs. Alving. Yes, unfortunately; but don't throw yourself away, Regina.
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, Iexpect.--May I ask, Mrs. Alving, whether Mr. Manders knows this about me?
Mrs. Alving. Mr. Manders knows everything.
Regina (putting on her shawl). Oh, well then, the best thing Ican 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.
Mrs. Alving. You are quite welcome to it, Regina.
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.
Mrs. Alving. If ever you need a home, Regina, come to me.
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.
Mrs. Alving. Where is that?
Regina. In the "Alving Home."
Mrs. Alving. Regina--I can see quite well--you are going to your ruin!
Regina. Pooh!--goodbye.
(She bows to them and goes out through the hall.)Oswald (standing by the window and looking out). Has she gone?
Mrs. Alving. Yes.
Oswald (muttering to himself). I think it's all wrong.
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?
Oswald (turning his face towards her). All this about father, do you mean?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, about your unhappy father. I am so afraid it may have been too much for you.
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.
Mrs. Alving (drawing back her hands). Doesn't matter!--that your father's life was such a terrible failure!
Oswald. Of course I can feel sympathy for him, just as I would for anyone else, but--Mrs. Alving. No more than that! For your own father!
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.
Mrs. Alving. It is dreadful to think of!--But surely a child should feel some affection for his father, whatever happens?
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?
Mrs. Alving. You call it nothing but a superstition!
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--Mrs. Alving. Ghosts of beliefs!
Oswald (walking across the room). Yes, you might call them ghosts.
Mrs. Alving (with an outburst of feeling). Oswald! then you don't love me either!
Oswald. You I know, at any rate--
Mrs. Alving. You know me, yes; but is that all?
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.
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.
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.
Mrs. Alving (gently). I will be very good and patient.
Oswald. And cheerful too, mother!
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?
Oswald. Yes, you have done that. But who will take away the fear?
Mrs. Alving. The fear?
Oswald (crossing the room). Regina would have done it for one kind word.
Mrs. Alving. I don't understand you. What fear do you mean--and what has Regina to do with it?
Oswald. Is it very late, mother?
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.
Oswald. I am glad of that. After all, there may be many things yet for me to be glad of and to live for--Mrs. Alving. I should hope so!
Oswald. Even if I am not able to work--
