Ghosts [27]
would happen in your case if you stayed at home.
Oswald. Do you mean by that, that father--?
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.
Oswald. You didn't, either?
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.
Oswald. Why didn't you ever say anything about it to me in your letters?
Mrs. Alving. I never looked at it as a thing I could speak of to you, who were his son.
Oswald. What way did you look at it, then?
Mrs. Alving. I only saw the one fact, that your father was a lost man before ever you were born.
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. I have 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, I expect.--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 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.
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,
Oswald. Do you mean by that, that father--?
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.
Oswald. You didn't, either?
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.
Oswald. Why didn't you ever say anything about it to me in your letters?
Mrs. Alving. I never looked at it as a thing I could speak of to you, who were his son.
Oswald. What way did you look at it, then?
Mrs. Alving. I only saw the one fact, that your father was a lost man before ever you were born.
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. I have 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, I expect.--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 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.
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,