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 glass.

  REGINA [Looks at him in surprise.]

  There is Mrs. Alving’s glass, 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 glass, 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 glass, which she keeps in her hand.]

  OSWALD

  Sit down, Regina.

  [REGINA looks inquiringly at MRS. ALVING.]

  MRS. ALVING

  Sit down.

  [REGINA sits on a chair by the dining-room door, still holding the empty

  glass in her hand.]

  Oswald—what were you saying about the joy of life?

  OSWALD

  Ah, the joy of life, mother—that’s a thing you don’t know much about in these parts. I have never felt it here.

  MRS. ALVING

  Not when you are with me?

  OSWALD

  Not when I’m at home. But you don’t understand that.

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, yes; I think I almost understand it—now.

  OSWALD

  And then, too, the joy of work! At bottom, it’s the same thing. But that, too, you know nothing about.

  MRS. ALVING

  Perhaps you are right. Tell me more about it, Oswald.

  OSWALD

  I only mean that here people are brought up to believe that work is a curse and a punishment for sin, and that life is something miserable, something it would be best to have done with, the sooner the better.

  MRS. ALVING

  “A vale of tears,” yes; and we certainly do our best to make it one.

  OSWALD

  But in the great world people won’t hear of such things. There, nobody really believes such doctrines any longer. There, you feel it a positive bliss and ecstasy merely to draw the breath of life. Mother, have you noticed that everything I have painted has turned upon the joy of life?—always, always upon the joy of life?—light and sunshine and glorious air—and faces radiant with happiness. That is why I’m afraid of remaining at home with you.

  MRS. ALVING

  Afraid? What are you afraid of here, with me?

  OSWALD

  I’m afraid lest all my instincts should be warped into ugliness.

  MRS. ALVING [Looks steadily at him.]

  Do you think that is what would happen?

  OSWALD

  I know it. You may live the same life here as there, and yet it won’t be the same life.

  MRS. ALVING [Who has been listening eagerly, rises, her eyes big with thought, and says:]

  Now I see the sequence of things.

  OSWALD

  What is it you see?

  MRS. ALVING

  I see it now for the first time. And now I can speak.

  OSWALD [Rising.]

  Mother, I don’t understand you.

  REGINA [Who has also risen.]

  Perhaps I ought to go?

  MRS. ALVING

  No. Stay here. Now I can speak. Now, my boy, you shall know the whole truth. And then you can choose. Oswald! Regina!

  OSWALD

  Hush! The Pastor——

  MANDERS [Enters by the hall door.]

  There! We have had a most edifying time down there.

  OSWALD

  So have we.

  MANDERS

  We must stand by Engstrand and his Sailors’ Home. Regina must go to him and help him——

  REGINA

  No thank you, sir.

  MANDERS [Noticing her for the first time.]

  What——? You here? And with a glass in your hand!

  REGINA [Hastily putting the glass down.]

  Pardon!

  OSWALD

  Regina is going with me, Mr. Manders.

  MANDERS

  Going! With you!

  OSWALD

  Yes; as my wife—if she wishes it.

  MANDERS

  But, merciful God——!

  REGINA

  I can’t help it, sir.

  OSWALD

  Or she’ll stay here, if I stay.

  REGINA [Involuntarily.]

  Here!

  MANDERS

  I am thunderstruck at your conduct, Mrs. Alving.

  MRS. ALVING

  They will do neither one thing nor the other; for now I can speak out plainly.

  MANDERS

  You surely will not do that! No, no, no!

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, I can speak and I will. And no ideals shall suffer after all.

  OSWALD

  Mother—what is it you are hiding from me?

  REGINA [Listening.]

  Oh, ma’am, listen! Don’t you hear shouts outside.

  [She goes into the conservatory and looks out.]

  OSWALD [At the window on the left.]

  What’s going on? Where does that light come from?

  REGINA [Cries out.]

  The Orphanage is on fire!

  MRS. ALVING [Rushing to the window.]

  On fire!

  MANDERS

  On fire! Impossible! I’ve just come from there.

  OSWALD

  Where’s my hat? Oh, never mind it—Father’s Orphanage——! [He rushes out through the garden door.]

  MRS. ALVING

  My shawl, Regina! The whole place is in a blaze!

  MANDERS

  Terrible! Mrs. Alving, it is a judgment upon this abode of lawlessness.

  MRS. ALVING

  Yes, of course. Come, Regina.

  [She and REGINA hasten out through the hall.]

  MANDERS [Clasps his hands together.]

  And we left it uninsured!

  [He goes out the same way.]

  ACT THIRD

  The room as before. All the doors stand open.The lamp is still burning on the table. It is dark out of doors, there is only a faint glow from the conflagration in the background to the left.

  MRS. ALVING, with a shawl over her head, stands in the conservatory, looking out. REGINA, also with a shawl on, stands a little behind her.

  MRS. ALVING

  The whole thing burnt!—burnt to the ground!

  REGINA

  The basement is still burning.

  MRS. ALVING

  How is it Oswald doesn’t come home? There’s nothing to be saved.

  REGINA

  Should you like me to take down his hat to him?

  MRS. ALVING

  Has he not even got his hat on?

  REGINA [Pointing to the hall.]

  No; there it hangs.

  MRS. ALVING

  Let it be. He must come up now. I shall go and look for him myself.

  [She goes out through the garden door.]

  MANDERS [Comes in from the hall.]

  Is not Mrs. Alving here?

  REGINA

  She has just gone down the garden.

  MANDERS

  This is the most terrible night I ever went through.

  REGINA

  Yes; isn’t it a dreadful misfortune, sir?

  MANDERS

  Oh, don’t talk about it! I can hardly bear to think of it.

  REGINA

  How can it have happened——?

  MANDERS

  Don’t ask me, Miss Engstrand! How should I know? Do you, too——? Is it not enough that your father——?

  REGINA

  What about him?

  MANDERS

  Oh, he has driven me distracted——

  ENGSTRAND [Enters through the hall.]

  Your Reverence——

  MANDERS [Turns round in terror.]

  Are you after me here, too?

  ENGSTRAND

  Yes, strike me dead, but I must——! Oh, Lord! what am I saying? But this is a terrible ugly business, your Reverence.

  MANDERS [Walks to and fro.]

  Alas! alas!

  REGINA

  What’s the matter?

  ENGSTRAND

  Why, it all came of this here prayer-meeting, you see.

  [Softly.]

  The bird’s limed, my girl.

  [Aloud.]

  And to think it should be my doing that such a thing should be

  his Reverence’s doing!

  MANDERS

  But I assure you, Engstrand——

  ENGSTRAND

  There wasn’t another soul except your Reverence as ever laid a finger on the candles down there.

  MANDERS [Stops.]

  So you declare. But I certainly cannot recollect that I ever had a candle in my hand.

  ENGSTRAND

  And I saw as clear as daylight how your Reverence took the candle and snuffed it with your fingers, and threw away the snuff among the shavings.

  MANDERS

  And you stood and looked on?

  ENGSTRAND

  Yes; I saw it as plain as a pike-staff, I did.

  MANDERS

  It’s quite beyond my comprehension. Besides, it has never been my habit to snuff candles with my fingers.

  ENGSTRAND

  And terrible risky it looked, too, that it did! But is there such a deal of harm done after all, your Reverence?

  MANDERS [Walks restlessly to and fro.]

  Oh, don’t ask me!

  ENGSTRAND [Walks with him.]

  And your Reverence hadn’t insured it, neither?

  MANDERS [Continuing to walk up and down.]

  No, no, no; I have told you so.

  ENGSTRAND [Following him.]

  Not insured! And then to go straight away down and set light to the whole thing! Lord, Lord, what a misfortune!

  MANDERS [Wipes the sweat from his forehead.]

  Ay, you may well say that, Engstrand.

  ENGSTRAND

  And to think that such a thing should happen to a benevolent Institution, that was to have been a blessing both to town and country, as the saying goes! The newspapers won’t be for handling your Reverence very gently, I expect.

  MANDERS

  No; that is just what I am thinking of. That is almost the worst of the whole matter. All the malignant attacks and imputations——! Oh, it makes me shudder to think of it!

  MRS. ALVING [Comes in from the garden.]

  He is not to be persuaded to leave the fire.

  MANDERS

  Ah, there you are, Mrs. Alving.

  MRS. ALVING

  So you have escaped your Inaugural Address, Pastor Manders.

  MANDERS

  Oh, I should so gladly——

  MRS. ALVING [In an undertone.]

  It is all for the best. That Orphanage would have done no one any good.

  MANDERS

  Do you think not?

  MRS. ALVING

  Do you think it would?

  MANDERS

  It is a terrible misfortune, all the same.

  MRS. ALVING

  Let us speak of it plainly, as a matter of business.—Are you waiting for Mr. Manders, Engstrand?

  ENGSTRAND [At the hall door.]

  That’s just what I’m a-doing of, ma’am.

  MRS. ALVING

  Then sit down meanwhile.

  ENGSTRAND

  Thank you, ma’am; I’d as soon stand.

  MRS. ALVING [To MANDERS.]

  I suppose you are going by the steamer?

  MANDERS

  Yes; it starts in an hour.

  MRS. ALVING

  Then be so good as to take all the papers with you. I won’t hear another word about this affair. I have other things to think of——

  MANDERS

  Mrs. Alving——

  MRS. ALVING

  Later on I shall send you a Power of Attorney to settle everything as you please.

  MANDERS

  That I will very readily undertake. The original destination of the endowment must now be completely changed, alas!

  MRS. ALVING

  Of course it must.

  MANDERS

  I think, first of all, I shall arrange that the Solvik property shall pass to the parish. The land is by no means without value. It can always be turned to account for some purpose or other. And the interest of the money in the Bank I could, perhaps, best apply for the benefit of some undertaking of acknowledged value to the town.