MANDERS

  Thank you. Are you quite at liberty——?

  MRS. ALVING

  Certainly.

  [She sits by the table.]

  MANDERS

  Very well. Then let me show you——

  [He goes to the chair where his travelling-bag lies, takes out a packet of pa

  pers, sits down on the opposite side of the table, and tries to find a clear

  space for the papers.]

  Now, to begin with, here is——

  [Breaking off.]

  Tell me, Mrs. Alving, how do these books come to be here?

  MRS. ALVING

  These books? They are books I am reading.

  MANDERS

  Do you read this sort of literature?

  MRS. ALVING

  Certainly I do.

  MANDERS

  Do you feel better or happier for such reading?

  MRS. ALVING

  I feel, so to speak, more secure.

  MANDERS

  That is strange. How do you mean?

  MRS. ALVING

  Well, I seem to find explanation and confirmation of all sorts of things I myself have been thinking. For that is the wonderful part of it, Pastor Manders—there is really nothing new in these books, nothing but what most people think and believe. Only most people either don’t formulate it to themselves, or else keep quiet about it.

  MANDERS

  Great heavens! Do you really believe that most people——?

  MRS. ALVING

  I do, indeed.

  MANDERS

  But surely not in this country? Not here among us?

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, certainly; here as elsewhere.

  MANDERS

  Well, I really must say——!

  MRS. ALVING

  For the rest, what do you object to in these books?

  MANDERS

  Object to in them? You surely do not suppose that I have nothing better to do than to study such publications as these?

  MRS. ALVING

  That is to say, you know nothing of what you are condemning?

  MANDERS

  I have read enough about these writings to disapprove of them.

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes; but your own judgment——

  MANDERS

  My dear Mrs. Alving, there are many occasions in life when one must rely upon others. Things are so ordered in this world; and it is well that they are. Otherwise, what would become of society?

  MRS. ALVING

  Well, well, I daresay you’re right there.

  MANDERS

  Besides, I of course do not deny that there may be much that is attractive in such books. Nor can I blame you for wishing to keep up with the intellectual movements that are said to be going on in the great world—where you have let your son pass so much of his life. But——

  MRS. ALVING

  But?

  MANDERS [Lowering his voice.]

  But one should not talk about it, Mrs. Alving. One is certainly not bound to account to everybody for what one reads and thinks within one’s own four walls.

  MRS. ALVING

  Of course not; I quite agree with you.

  MANDERS

  Only think, now, how you are bound to consider the interests of this Orphanage, which you decided on founding at a time when—if I understand you rightly—you thought very differently on spiritual matters.

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, yes; I quite admit that. But it was about the Orphanage——

  MANDERS

  It was about the Orphanage we were to speak; yes. All I say is: prudence, my dear lady! And now let us get to business. [Opens the packet, and takes out a number of papers.] Do you see these?

  MRS. ALVING The documents?

  MANDERS

  All—and in perfect order. I can tell you it was hard work to get

  them in time. I had to put on strong pressure. The authorities are

  almost morbidly scrupulous when there is any decisive step to be

  taken. But here they are at last.

  [Looks through the bundle.]

  See! here is the formal deed of gift of the parcel of ground

  known as Solvik in the Manor of Rosenvold, with all the newly

  constructed buildings, schoolrooms, master’s house, and chapel.

  And here is the legal fiat for the endowment and for the Bye

  laws of the Institution. Will you look at them?

  [Reads.]

  “Bye-laws for the Children’s Home to be known as ‘Captain

  Alving’s Foundation.’”

  MRS. ALVING [Looks long at the paper.]

  So there it is.

  MANDERS

  I have chosen the designation “Captain” rather than “Chamberlain.” “Captain” looks less pretentious.

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, yes; just as you think best.

  MANDERS

  And here you have the Bank Account of the capital lying at interest to cover the current expenses of the Orphanage.

  MRS. ALVING

  Thank you; but please keep it—it will be more convenient.

  MANDERS

  With pleasure. I think we will leave the money in the Bank for the present. The interest is certainly not what we could wish—four per cent, and six months’ notice of withdrawal. If a good mortgage could be found later on—of course it must be a first mortgage and an unimpeachable security—then we could consider the matter.

  MRS. ALVING

  Certainly, my dear Pastor Manders. You are the best judge in these things.

  MANDERS

  I will keep my eyes open at any rate.—But now there is one thing more which I have several times been intending to ask you.

  MRS. ALVING

  And what is that?

  MANDERS

  Shall the Orphanage buildings be insured or not?

  MRS. ALVING

  Of course they must be insured.

  MANDERS

  Well, wait a moment, Mrs. Alving. Let us look into the matter a little more closely.

  MRS. ALVING

  I have everything insured; buildings and movables and stock and crops.

  MANDERS

  Of course you have—on your own estate. And so have I—of course. But here, you see, it is quite another matter. The Orphanage is to be consecrated, as it were, to a higher purpose.

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, but that’s no reason——

  MANDERS

  For my own part, I should certainly not see the smallest impropriety in guarding against all contingencies——

  MRS. ALVING

  No, I should think not.

  MANDERS

  But what is the general feeling in the neighbourhood? You, of course, know better than I.

  MRS. ALVING

  Well—the general feeling——

  MANDERS

  Is there any considerable number of people—really responsible people—who might be scandalised?

  MRS. ALVING

  What do you mean by “really responsible people”?

  MANDERS

  Well, I mean people in such independent and influential positions that one cannot help attaching some weight to their opinions.

  MRS. ALVING

  There are several people of that sort here who would very likely be shocked if——

  MANDERS

  There, you see! In town we have many such people. Think of all my colleague’s adherents! People would be only too ready to interpret our action as a sign that neither you nor I had the right faith in a Higher Providence.

  MRS. ALVING

  But for your own part, my dear Pastor, you can at least tell yourself that——

  MANDERS

  Yes, I know—I know; my conscience would be quite easy, that is true enough. But nevertheless we should not escape grave misinterpretation; and that might very likely react unfavourably upon the Orphanage.

  MRS. ALVING

  Well, in that case——

  MANDERS

  Nor can I entirely lose sight of the difficult—I may even say painful—position in which I might perhaps be placed. In the leading circles of the town, people take a lively interest in this Orphanage. It is, of course, founded partly for the benefit of the town, as well; and it is to be hoped it will, to a considerable extent, result in lightening our Poor Rates. Now, as I have been your adviser, and have had the business arrangements in my hands, I cannot but fear that I may have to bear the brunt of fanaticism——

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, you mustn’t run the risk of that.

  MANDERS

  To say nothing of the attacks that would assuredly be made upon me in certain papers and periodicals, which——

  MRS. ALVING

  Enough, my dear Pastor Manders. That consideration is quite decisive.

  MANDERS

  Then you do not wish the Orphanage to be insured?

  MRS. ALVING

  No. We will let it alone.

  MANDERS [Leaning back in his chair.]

  But if, now, a disaster were to happen? One can never tell——Should you be able to make good the damage?

  MRS. ALVING

  No; I tell you plainly I should do nothing of the kind.

  MANDERS

  Then I must tell you, Mrs. Alving—we are taking no small responsibility upon ourselves.

  MRS. ALVING

  Do you think we can do otherwise?

  MANDERS

  No, that is just the point; we really cannot do otherwise. We ought not to expose ourselves to misinterpretation; and we have no right whatever to give offence to the weaker brethren.

  MRS. ALVING

  You, as a clergyman, certainly should not.

  MANDERS

  I really think, too, we may trust that such an institution has fortune on its side; in fact, that it stands under a special providence.

  MRS. ALVING

  Let us hope so, Pastor Manders.

  MANDERS

  Then we will let it take its chance?

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, certainly.

  MANDERS

  Very well. So be it.

  [Makes a note.]

  Then—no insurance.

  MRS. ALVING

  It’s odd that you should just happen to mention the matter to-day——

  MANDERS

  I have often thought of asking you about it——

  MRS. ALVING

  ——for we very nearly had a fire down there yesterday.

  MANDERS You don’t say so!

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, it was a trifling matter. A heap of shavings had caught fire in the carpenter’s workshop.

  MANDERS

  Where Engstrand works?

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes. They say he’s often very careless with matches.

  MANDERS

  He has so much on his mind, that man—so many things to fight against. Thank God, he is now striving to lead a decent life, I hear.

  MRS. ALVING

  Indeed! Who says so?

  MANDERS

  He himself assures me of it. And he is certainly a capital workman.

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, yes; so long as he’s sober——

  MANDERS

  Ah, that melancholy weakness! But he is often driven to it by his injured leg, he says. Last time he was in town I was really touched by him. He came and thanked me so warmly for having got him work here, so that he might be near Regina.

  MRS. ALVING

  He doesn’t see much of her.

  MANDERS

  Oh, yes; he has a talk with her every day. He told me so himself.

  MRS. ALVING

  Well, it may be so.

  MANDERS

  He feels so acutely that he needs some one to keep a firm hold on him when temptation comes. That is what I cannot help liking about Jacob Engstrand: he comes to you so helplessly, accusing himself and confessing his own weakness. The last time he was talking to me——Believe me, Mrs. Alving, supposing it were a real necessity for him to have Regina home again——

  MRS. ALVING [Rising hastily.]

  Regina!

  MANDERS

  ——you must not set yourself against it.

  MRS. ALVING

  Indeed I shall set myself against it. And besides—Regina is to have a position in the Orphanage.

  MANDERS

  But, after all, remember he is her father——

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, I know very well what sort of a father he has been to her. No! She shall never go to him with my goodwill.

  MANDERS [Rising.]

  My dear lady, don’t take the matter so warmly. You sadly misjudge poor Engstrand. You seem to be quite terrified——

  MRS. ALVING [More quietly.]

  It makes no difference. I have taken Regina into my house, and

  there she shall stay.

  [Listens.]

  Hush, my dear Mr. Manders; say no more about it.

  [Her face lights up with gladness.]

  Listen! there is Oswald coming downstairs. Now we’ll think of

  no one but him.

  OSWALD ALVING, in a light overcoat, hat in hand, and smoking a large meerschaum, enters by the door on the left; he stops in the doorway.

  OSWALD

  Oh, I beg your pardon; I thought you were in the study.

  [Comes forward.]

  Good-morning, Pastor Manders.

  MANDERS [Staring.]

  Ah——! How strange——!

  MRS. ALVING

  Well now, what do you think of him, Mr. Manders?

  MANDERS

  I—I—can it really be——?

  OSWALD

  Yes, it’s really the Prodigal Son, sir.

  MANDERS [Protesting.]

  My dear young friend——

  OSWALD

  Well, then, the Lost Sheep Found.

  MRS. ALVING

  Oswald is thinking of the time when you were so much opposed to his becoming a painter.

  MANDERS

  To our human eyes many a step seems dubious, which afterwards

  proves——

  [Wrings his hand.]

  But first of all, welcome, welcome home! Do not think, my dear

  Oswald—I suppose I may call you by your Christian name?

  OSWALD

  What else should you call me?

  MANDERS

  Very good. What I wanted to say was this, my dear Oswald—

  you must not think that I utterly condemn the artist’s calling. I

  have no doubt there are many who can keep their inner self

  unharmed in that profession, as in any other.

  OSWALD

  Let us hope so.

  MRS. ALVING [Beaming with delight.]

  I know one who has kept both his inner and his outer self unharmed. Just look at him, Mr. Manders.

  OSWALD [Moves restlessly about the room.]

  Yes, yes, my dear mother; let’s say no more about it.

  MANDERS

  Why, certainly—that is undeniable. And you have begun to make a name for yourself already. The newspapers have often spoken of you, most favourably. Just lately, by-the-bye, I fancy I haven’t seen your name quite so often.

  OSWALD [Up in the conservatory.]

  I haven’t been able to paint so much lately.

  MRS. ALVING

  Even a painter needs a little rest now and then.

  MANDERS

  No doubt, no doubt. And meanwhile he can be preparing himself and mustering his forces for some great work.

  OSWALD

  Yes.—Mother, will dinner soon be ready?

  MRS. ALVING

  In less than half an hour. He has a capital appetite, thank God.

  MANDERS

  And a taste for tobacco, too.

  OSWALD

  I found my father’s pipe in my room——

  MANDERS

  Aha—then that accounts for it!

  MRS. ALVING

  For what?

  MANDERS

  When Oswald appeared there, in the doorway, with the pipe in his mouth, I could have sworn I saw his father, large as life.

  OSWALD

  No, really?

  MRS. ALVING

  Oh, how can you say so? Oswald takes after me.

  MANDERS

  Yes, but there is an expression about the corners of the mouth—something about the lips—that reminds one exactly of Alving: at any rate, now that he is smoking.

  MRS. ALVING

  Not in the least. Oswald has rather a clerical curve about his mouth, I think.

  MANDERS

  Yes, yes; some of my colleagues have much the same expression.

  MRS. ALVING

  But put your pipe away, my dear boy; I won’t have smoking in here.

  OSWALD [Does so.]

  By all means. I only wanted to try it; for I once smoked it when I was a child.