OSWALD. [Springs up.] Mother, Regina is my only salvation!
MRS. ALVING. [Rising.] What do you mean by that?
OSWALD. I cannot go on bearing all this anguish of soul alone.
MRS. ALVING. Have you not your mother to share it with you?
OSWALD. Yes; that"s what I thought; and so I came home to you. But that will not do. I see it won"t do. I cannot endure my life here.
MRS. ALVING. Oswald!
OSWALD. I must live differently, mother. That is why I must leave you. I will not have you looking on at it.
MRS. ALVING. My unhappy boy! But, Oswald, while you are so ill as this--
OSWALD. If it were only the illness, I should stay with you, mother, you may be sure; for you are the best friend I have in the world.
MRS. ALVING. Yes, indeed I am, Oswald; am I not?
OSWALD. [Wanders restlessly about.] But it"s all the torment, the gnawing remorse--and then, the great, killing dread. Oh--that awful dread!
MRS. ALVING. [Walking after him.] Dread? What dread? What do you mean?
OSWALD. Oh, you mustn"t ask me any more. I don"t know. I can"t describe it.
MRS. ALVING. [Goes over to the right and pulls the bell.]
OSWALD. What is it you want?
MRS. ALVING. I want my boy to be happy--that is what I want. He sha"n"t go on brooding over things [To REGINA, who appears at the door:] More champagne--a large bottle. [REGINA goes.]
OSWALD. Mother!
MRS. ALVING. Do you think we don"t know how to live here at home?
OSWALD. Isn"t she splendid to look at? How beautifully she"s built! And so thoroughly healthy!
MRS. ALVING. [Sits by the table.] Sit down, Oswald; let us talk quietly together.
OSWALD. [Sits.] I daresay you don"t know, mother, that I owe Regina some reparation.
MRS. ALVING. You!
OSWALD. For a bit of thoughtlessness, or whatever you like to call it--very innocent, at any rate. When I was home last time--
MRS. ALVING. Well?
OSWALD. She used often to ask me about Paris, and I used to tell her one thing and another. Then I recollect I happened to say to her one day, "Shouldn"t you like to go there yourself?"
MRS. ALVING. Well?
OSWALD. I saw her face flush, and then she said, "Yes, I should like it of all things." "Ah, well," I replied, "it might perhaps be managed"--or something like that.
MRS. ALVING. And then?
OSWALD. Of course I had forgotten all about it; but the day before yesterday I happened to ask her whether she was glad I was to stay at home so long--
MRS. ALVING. Yes?
OSWALD. And then she gave me such a strange look, and asked, "But what"s to become of my trip to Paris?"
MRS. ALVING. Her trip!
OSWALD. And so it came out that she had taken the thing seriously; that she had been thinking of me the whole time, and had set to work to learn French--
MRS. ALVING. So that was why--!
OSWALD. Mother--when I saw that fresh, lovely, splendid girl standing there before me--till then I had hardly noticed her--but when she stood there as though with open arms ready to receive me--
MRS. ALVING. Oswald!
OSWALD.--then it flashed upon me that in her lay my salvation; for I saw that she was full of the joy of life.
MRS. ALVING. [Starts.] The joy of life? Can there be salvation in that?
REGINA. [From the dining room, with a bottle of champagne.] I"m sorry to have been so long, but I had to go to the cellar. [Places the bottle on the table.]
OSWALD. And now bring another gla.s.s.
REGINA. [Looks at him in surprise.] There is Mrs. Alving"s gla.s.s, Mr.
Alving.
OSWALD. Yes, but bring one for yourself, Regina. [REGINA starts and gives a lightning-like side glance at MRS. ALVING.] Why do you wait?
REGINA. [Softly and hesitatingly.] Is it Mrs. Alving"s wish?
MRS. ALVING. Bring the gla.s.s, Regina.
[REGINA goes out into the dining-room.]
OSWALD. [Follows her with his eyes.] Have you noticed how she walks?--so firmly and lightly!
MRS. ALVING. This can never be, Oswald!
OSWALD. It"s a settled thing. Can"t you see that? It"s no use saying anything against it.
[REGINA enters with an empty gla.s.s, which she keeps in her hand.]