Ghosts [22]
Oswald. Yes. Ahem! (After a short pause.) Tell me--what do you think of Regina?
Mrs. Alving. What do I think of her?
Oswald. Yes, isn't she splendid!
Mrs. Alving. Dear Oswald, you don't know her as well as I do--
Oswald. What of that?
Mrs. Alving. Regina was too long at home, unfortunately. I ought to have taken her under my charge sooner.
Oswald. Yes, but isn't she splendid to look at, mother? (Fills his glass,)
Mrs. Alving. Regina has many serious faults--
Oswald. Yes, but what of that? (Drinks.)
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.
Oswald (jumping up). Mother, Regina is my only hope of salvation!
Mrs. Alving (getting up). What do you mean?
Oswald. I can't go on bearing all this agony of mind alone.
Mrs. Alving, Haven't you your mother to help you to bear it?
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.
Mrs. Alving. Oswald!
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.
Mrs. Alving. My unhappy boy! But, Oswald, as long as you are ill like this--
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.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, I am that, Oswald, am I not?
Oswald (walking restlessly about). But all this torment--the regret, the remorse--and the deadly fear. Oh--this horrible fear!
Mrs. Alving (following him). Fear? Fear of what? What do you mean?
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?
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.
Oswald. Mother!
Mrs. Alving. Do you think we country people don't know how to live?
Oswald. Isn't she splendid to look at? What a figure! And the picture of health!
Mrs. Alving (sitting down at the table). Sit down, Oswald, and let us have a quiet talk.
Oswald (sitting down). You don't know, mother, that I owe Regina a little reparation.
Mrs. Alving. You!
Oswald. Oh, it was only a little thoughtlessness--call it what you like. Something quite innocent, anyway. The last time I was home--
Mrs. Alving. Yes?
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?"
Mrs. Alving. Well?
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.
Mrs. Alving. And then?
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--
Mrs. Alving. Well?
Oswald. --and she looked so queerly at me, and asked: "But what is to become of my trip to Paris? "
Mrs. Alving. Her trip!
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--
Mrs. Alving. So that was why--
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--
Mrs. Alving. Oswald!
Oswald. --then I realised that my salvation lay in her, for I saw the joy of life in her!
Mrs. Alving (starting back). The joy of life--? Is there salvation in that?
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.)
Oswald. Bring another glass, too.
Regina (looking at him in astonishment).