moment in the background with his hands behind his back, and looks out over the garden. Then he returns to the table, takes up a book, and looks at the title page; starts, and looks at several books. Ha—indeed!
Mrs. Alving enters by the door on the left; she is followed by Regina, who immediately goes out by the first door on the right.
Mrs. Alving
Holds out her hand. Welcome, my dear Pastor.
Manders
How do you do, Mrs. Alving? Here I am as I promised.
Mrs. Alving
Always punctual to the minute.
Manders
You may believe it was not so easy for me to get away. With all the Boards and Committees I belong to—
Mrs. Alving
That makes it all the kinder of you to come so early. Now we can get through our business before dinner. But where is your portmanteau?
Manders
Quickly. I left it down at the inn. I shall sleep there tonight.
Mrs. Alving
Suppressing a smile. Are you really not to be persuaded, even now, to pass the night under my roof?
Manders
No, no, Mrs. Alving; many thanks. I shall stay at the inn, as usual. It is so conveniently near the landing-stage.
Mrs. Alving
Well, you must have your own way. But I really should have thought we two old people—
Manders
Now you are making fun of me. Ah, you’re naturally in great spirits today—what with tomorrow’s festival and Oswald’s return.
Mrs. Alving
Yes; you can think what a delight it is to me! It’s more than two years since he was home last. And now he has promised to stay with me all the winter.
Manders
Has he really? That is very nice and dutiful of him. For I can well believe that life in Rome and Paris has very different attractions from any we can offer here.
Mrs. Alving
Ah, but here he has his mother, you see. My own darling boy—he hasn’t forgotten his old mother!
Manders
It would be grievous indeed, if absence and absorption in art and that sort of thing were to blunt his natural feelings.
Mrs. Alving
Yes, you may well say so. But there’s nothing of that sort to fear with him. I’m quite curious to see whether you know him again. He’ll be down presently; he’s upstairs just now, resting a little on the sofa. But do sit down, my dear Pastor.
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 papers, 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 Bylaws of the Institution. Will you look at them? Reads. “Bylaws for the Children’s Home to be known as ‘Captain Alving’s Foundation.’ ”
Mrs. Alving
(Looks long at the paper.) So there it is.
Вы читаете Ghosts