Ghosts Henrik Ibsen (good novels to read in english txt) 📖

little while ago you spoke of the joy of life; and at that word a new light burst for me over my life and everything connected with it. Oswald Shakes his head. I don’t understand you. Mrs. Alving You ought to have known your father when he was a young lieutenant. He was brimming over with the joy of life! Oswald Yes, I know he was. Mrs. Alving It was like a breezy day only to look at him. And what exuberant strength and vitality there was in him! Oswald Well⁠—? Mrs. Alving Well then, child of joy as he was⁠—for he was like a child in those days⁠—he had to live at home here in a half-grown town, which had no joys to offer him⁠—only dissipations. He had no object in life⁠—only an official position. He had no work into which he could throw himself heart and soul; he had only business. He had not a single comrade that could realise what the joy of life meant⁠—only loungers and boon-companions⁠— Oswald Mother⁠—! Mrs. Alving So the inevitable happened. Oswald The inevitable? Mrs. Alving You told me yourself, this evening, what would become of you if you stayed at home. Oswald Do you mean to say that father⁠—? Mrs. Alving Your poor father found no outlet for the overpowering joy of life that was in him. And I brought no brightness into his home. Oswald Not even you? Mrs. Alving They had taught me a great deal about duties and so forth, which I went on obstinately believing in. Everything was marked out into duties⁠—into my duties, and his duties, and⁠—I am afraid I made his home intolerable for your poor father, Oswald. Oswald Why have you never spoken of this in writing to me? Mrs. Alving I have never before seen it in such a light that I could speak of it to you, his son. Oswald In what light did you see it, then? Mrs. Alving Slowly. I saw only this one thing: that your father was a broken-down man before you were born. Oswald Softly. Ah⁠—! He rises and walks away to the window. Mrs. Alving And then; day after day, I dwelt on the one thought that by rights Regina should be at home in this house⁠—just like my own boy. Oswald Turning round quickly. Regina⁠—! Regina Springs up and asks, with bated breath. I⁠—? Mrs. Alving Yes, now you know it, both of you. Oswald Regina! Regina To herself. So mother was that kind of woman. Mrs. Alving Your mother had many good qualities, Regina. Regina Yes, but she was one of that sort, all the same. Oh, I’ve often suspected it; but⁠—And now, if you please, ma’am, may I be allowed to go away at once? Mrs. Alving Do you really wish it, Regina? Regina Yes, indeed I do. Mrs. Alving Of course you can do as you like; but⁠— Oswald Goes towards Regina. Go away now? Your place is here. Regina Merci, Mr. Alving!⁠—or now, I suppose, I may say Oswald. But I can tell you this wasn’t at all what I expected. Mrs. Alving Regina, I have not been frank with you⁠— Regina No, that you haven’t indeed. If I’d known that Oswald was an invalid, why⁠—And now, too, that it can never come to anything serious between us⁠—I really can’t stop out here in the country and wear myself out nursing sick people. Oswald Not even one who is so near to you? Regina No, that I can’t. A poor girl must make the best of her young days, or she’ll be left out in the cold before she knows where she is. And I, too, have the joy of life in me, Mrs. Alving! Mrs. Alving Unfortunately, you have. But don’t throw yourself away, Regina. Regina Oh, what must be, must be. If Oswald takes after his father, I take after my mother, I daresay.⁠—May I ask, ma’am, if Pastor Manders knows all this about me? Mrs. Alving Pastor Manders knows all about it. Regina Busied in putting on her shawl. Well then, I’d better make haste and get away by this steamer. The Pastor is such a nice man to deal with; and I certainly think I’ve as much right to a little of that money as he has⁠—that brute of a carpenter. Mrs. Alving You are heartily welcome to it, Regina. Regina Looks hard at her. I think you might have brought me up as a gentleman’s daughter, ma’am; it would have suited me better. Tosses her head. But pooh⁠—what does it matter! With a bitter side glance at the corked bottle. I may come to drink champagne with gentlefolks yet. Mrs. Alving And if you ever need a home, Regina, come to me. Regina No, thank you, ma’am. Pastor Manders will look after me, I know. And if the worst comes to the worst, I know of one house where I’ve every right to a place. Mrs. Alving Where is that? Regina “Chamberlain Alving’s Home.” Mrs. Alving Regina⁠—now I see it⁠—you are going to your ruin. Regina Oh, stuff! Goodbye. She nods and goes out through the hall. Oswald Stands at the window and looks out. Is she gone? Mrs. Alving Yes. Oswald Murmuring aside to himself. I think it was a mistake, this. Mrs. Alving Goes up behind him and lays her hands on his shoulders. Oswald, my dear boy⁠—has it shaken you very much? Oswald Turns his face towards her. All that about father, do you mean? Mrs. Alving Yes, about your unhappy father. I am so afraid it may have been too much for you. Oswald Why should you fancy that? Of course it came upon me as a great surprise; but it can make no real difference to me. Mrs. Alving Draws her hands away. No difference! That your father was so infinitely unhappy! Oswald Of course I can pity him, as I would anybody else; but⁠— Mrs. Alving Nothing more! Your own father! Oswald Impatiently. Oh, “father,”⁠—“father”! I never knew anything of father. I remember nothing about him, except that he once made me sick. Mrs. Alving This is terrible to think of! Ought not a son to love his father, whatever happens? Oswald When a son has nothing to thank his father for? has never known him? Do you really cling to that old superstition?⁠—you who are so enlightened