Ghosts [16]
of my life?
Mrs. Alving. Call it rather the most ignominious defeat of your life.
Manders. It was the greatest victory of my life, Helen; victory over myself.
Mrs. Alving. It was a wrong done to both of us.
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?
Mrs. Alving. I think it was.
Menders. We two do not understand one another.
Mrs. Alving. Not now, at all events.
Manders. Never--even in my most secret thoughts--have I for a moment regarded you as anything but the wife of another.
Mrs. Alving. Do you believe what you say?
Manders. Helen--!
Mrs. Alving. One so easily forgets one's own feelings. Manders. Not I. I am the same as I always was.
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.
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.
Mrs. Alving. Don't you think it would be best if we could get her settled?--by some suitable marriage, I mean.
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--
Mrs. Alving. Regina developed very early.
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.)
Mrs. Alving. Who can that be? Come in!
(ENGSTRAND, dressed in his Sunday clothes, appears in the doorway.)
Engstrand. I humbly beg pardon, but--
Manders. Aha! Hm!
Mrs. Alving. Oh, it's you, Engstrand!
Engstrand. There were none of the maids about, so I took the great liberty of knocking.
Mrs. Alving. That's all right. Come in. Do you want to speak to me?
Engstrand (coming in). No, thank you very much, ma'am. It was Mr. Menders I wanted to speak to for a moment.
Manders (walking up and down). Hm!--do you. You want to speak to me, do you?
Engstrand. Yes, sir, I wanted so very much to--
Manders (stopping in front of him). Well, may I ask what it is you want?
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.
Manders. Prayers? Up at the Orphanage?
Engstrand. Yes, sir, but if it isn't agreeable to you, then--
Manders. Oh, certainly--but--hm!--
Engstrand. I have made a practice of saying a few prayers there myself each evening.
Mrs: Alving. Have you?
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--
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?
Engstrand. Heaven have mercy on me a sinner! My conscience isn't worth our speaking about, Mr. Manders.
Manders. But it is just what we must speak about. What do you say to my question?
Engstrand. My conscience? Well--it's uneasy sometimes, of course.
Manders. Ah, you admit that at all events. Now will you tell me, without any concealment-- what is your relationship to Regina?
Mrs. Alving (hastily). Mr. Manders!
Manders (calming her).--Leave it to me!
Engstrand. With Regina? Good Lord,
Mrs. Alving. Call it rather the most ignominious defeat of your life.
Manders. It was the greatest victory of my life, Helen; victory over myself.
Mrs. Alving. It was a wrong done to both of us.
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?
Mrs. Alving. I think it was.
Menders. We two do not understand one another.
Mrs. Alving. Not now, at all events.
Manders. Never--even in my most secret thoughts--have I for a moment regarded you as anything but the wife of another.
Mrs. Alving. Do you believe what you say?
Manders. Helen--!
Mrs. Alving. One so easily forgets one's own feelings. Manders. Not I. I am the same as I always was.
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.
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.
Mrs. Alving. Don't you think it would be best if we could get her settled?--by some suitable marriage, I mean.
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--
Mrs. Alving. Regina developed very early.
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.)
Mrs. Alving. Who can that be? Come in!
(ENGSTRAND, dressed in his Sunday clothes, appears in the doorway.)
Engstrand. I humbly beg pardon, but--
Manders. Aha! Hm!
Mrs. Alving. Oh, it's you, Engstrand!
Engstrand. There were none of the maids about, so I took the great liberty of knocking.
Mrs. Alving. That's all right. Come in. Do you want to speak to me?
Engstrand (coming in). No, thank you very much, ma'am. It was Mr. Menders I wanted to speak to for a moment.
Manders (walking up and down). Hm!--do you. You want to speak to me, do you?
Engstrand. Yes, sir, I wanted so very much to--
Manders (stopping in front of him). Well, may I ask what it is you want?
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.
Manders. Prayers? Up at the Orphanage?
Engstrand. Yes, sir, but if it isn't agreeable to you, then--
Manders. Oh, certainly--but--hm!--
Engstrand. I have made a practice of saying a few prayers there myself each evening.
Mrs: Alving. Have you?
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--
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?
Engstrand. Heaven have mercy on me a sinner! My conscience isn't worth our speaking about, Mr. Manders.
Manders. But it is just what we must speak about. What do you say to my question?
Engstrand. My conscience? Well--it's uneasy sometimes, of course.
Manders. Ah, you admit that at all events. Now will you tell me, without any concealment-- what is your relationship to Regina?
Mrs. Alving (hastily). Mr. Manders!
Manders (calming her).--Leave it to me!
Engstrand. With Regina? Good Lord,