Ghosts [4]
a smile). Can't I really persuade you to stay the night here this time?
Manders. No, no; many thanks all the same; I will put up there, as usual. It is so handy for getting on board the boat again.
Mrs. Alving. Of course, you shall do as you please. But it seems to me quite another thing, now we are two old people--
Manders. Ha! ha! You will have your joke! And it's natural you should be in high spirits today--first of all there is the great event tomorrow, and also you have got Oswald home.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, am I not a lucky woman! It is more than two years since he was home last, and he has promised to stay the whole winter with me.
Manders, Has he, really? That is very nice and filial of him; because there must be many more attractions in his life in Rome or in Paris, I should think.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, but he has his mother here, you see. Bless the dear boy, he has got a corner in his heart for his mother still.
Manders. Oh, it would be very sad if absence and preoccupation with such a thing as Art were to dull the natural affections.
Mrs. Alving. It would, indeed. But there is no fear of that with him, I am glad to say. I am quite curious to see if you recognise him again. He will be down directly; he is just lying down for a little on the sofa upstairs. But do sit down, my dear friend.
Manders. Thank you. You are sure I am not disturbing you?
Mrs. Alving. Of course not. (She sits down at the table.)
Manders. Good. Then I will show you--. (He goes to the chair where his bag is lying and takes a packet of papers from it; then sits down at the opposite side of the table and looks for a clear space to put the papers down.) Now first of all, here is--(breaks off). Tell me, Mrs. Alving, what are these books doing here?
Mrs. Alving. These books? I am reading them,
Manders. Do you read this sort of thing?
Mrs, Alving. Certainly I do.
Manders. Do you feel any the better or the happier for reading books of this kind?
Mrs. Alving. I think it makes me, as it were, more self-reliant.
Manders. That is remarkable. But why?
Mrs. Alving. Well, they give me an explanation or a confirmation of lots of different ideas that have come into my own mind. But what surprises me, Mr. Manders, is that, properly speaking, there is nothing at all new in these books. There is nothing more in them than what most people think and believe. The only thing is, that most people either take no account of it or won't admit it to themselves.
Manders. But, good heavens, do you seriously think that most people--?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, indeed, I do.
Manders. But not here in the country at any rate? Not here amongst people like ourselves?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, amongst people like ourselves too.
Manders. Well, really, I must say--!
Mrs. Alving. But what is the particular objection that you have to these books?
Manders. What objection? You surely don't suppose that I take any particular interest in such productions?
Mrs. Alving. In fact, you don't know anything about what you are denouncing?
Manders. I have read quite enough about these books to disapprove of them:
Mrs. Alving. Yes, but your own opinion--
Manders. My dear Mrs. Alving, there are many occasions in life when one has to rely on the opinion of others. That is the way in this world, and it is quite right that it should be so. What would become of society, otherwise?
Mrs. Alving. Well, you may be right.
Manders. Apart from that, naturally I don't deny that literature of this kind may have a considerable attraction. And I cannot blame you, either, for wishing to make yourself acquainted with the intellectual tendencies which I am told are at work in the wider world in which you have allowed your son to wander for so long but--
Mrs. Alving. But--?
Manders (lowering his voice). But one doesn't talk about it, Mrs. Alving. One certainly is not called upon to account to everyone for what one reads or thinks in the privacy of one's own room.
Mrs. Alving. Certainly not. I quite agree with you.
Manders. Just think of
Manders. No, no; many thanks all the same; I will put up there, as usual. It is so handy for getting on board the boat again.
Mrs. Alving. Of course, you shall do as you please. But it seems to me quite another thing, now we are two old people--
Manders. Ha! ha! You will have your joke! And it's natural you should be in high spirits today--first of all there is the great event tomorrow, and also you have got Oswald home.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, am I not a lucky woman! It is more than two years since he was home last, and he has promised to stay the whole winter with me.
Manders, Has he, really? That is very nice and filial of him; because there must be many more attractions in his life in Rome or in Paris, I should think.
Mrs. Alving. Yes, but he has his mother here, you see. Bless the dear boy, he has got a corner in his heart for his mother still.
Manders. Oh, it would be very sad if absence and preoccupation with such a thing as Art were to dull the natural affections.
Mrs. Alving. It would, indeed. But there is no fear of that with him, I am glad to say. I am quite curious to see if you recognise him again. He will be down directly; he is just lying down for a little on the sofa upstairs. But do sit down, my dear friend.
Manders. Thank you. You are sure I am not disturbing you?
Mrs. Alving. Of course not. (She sits down at the table.)
Manders. Good. Then I will show you--. (He goes to the chair where his bag is lying and takes a packet of papers from it; then sits down at the opposite side of the table and looks for a clear space to put the papers down.) Now first of all, here is--(breaks off). Tell me, Mrs. Alving, what are these books doing here?
Mrs. Alving. These books? I am reading them,
Manders. Do you read this sort of thing?
Mrs, Alving. Certainly I do.
Manders. Do you feel any the better or the happier for reading books of this kind?
Mrs. Alving. I think it makes me, as it were, more self-reliant.
Manders. That is remarkable. But why?
Mrs. Alving. Well, they give me an explanation or a confirmation of lots of different ideas that have come into my own mind. But what surprises me, Mr. Manders, is that, properly speaking, there is nothing at all new in these books. There is nothing more in them than what most people think and believe. The only thing is, that most people either take no account of it or won't admit it to themselves.
Manders. But, good heavens, do you seriously think that most people--?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, indeed, I do.
Manders. But not here in the country at any rate? Not here amongst people like ourselves?
Mrs. Alving. Yes, amongst people like ourselves too.
Manders. Well, really, I must say--!
Mrs. Alving. But what is the particular objection that you have to these books?
Manders. What objection? You surely don't suppose that I take any particular interest in such productions?
Mrs. Alving. In fact, you don't know anything about what you are denouncing?
Manders. I have read quite enough about these books to disapprove of them:
Mrs. Alving. Yes, but your own opinion--
Manders. My dear Mrs. Alving, there are many occasions in life when one has to rely on the opinion of others. That is the way in this world, and it is quite right that it should be so. What would become of society, otherwise?
Mrs. Alving. Well, you may be right.
Manders. Apart from that, naturally I don't deny that literature of this kind may have a considerable attraction. And I cannot blame you, either, for wishing to make yourself acquainted with the intellectual tendencies which I am told are at work in the wider world in which you have allowed your son to wander for so long but--
Mrs. Alving. But--?
Manders (lowering his voice). But one doesn't talk about it, Mrs. Alving. One certainly is not called upon to account to everyone for what one reads or thinks in the privacy of one's own room.
Mrs. Alving. Certainly not. I quite agree with you.
Manders. Just think of