So it was my own fault!
Mrs. Alving. No, no, Oswald! Don't believe that--
Oswald. There was no other explanation of it possible, he said.
That is the most horrible part of it. My whole life incurably
ruined--just because of my own imprudence. All that I wanted to do
in the world-=not to dare to think of it any more--not to be able
to think of it! Oh! if only I could live my life over again--if
only I could undo what I have done! (Throws himself on his face
on the couch. MRS. ALVING wrings her hands, and walks up and down
silently fighting with herself.)
Oswald (looks up after a while, raising himself on his elbows).
If only it had been something I had inherited--something I could
not help. But, instead of that, to have disgracefully, stupidly,
thoughtlessly thrown away one's happiness, one's health,
everything in the world--one's future, one's life!
Mrs. Alving. No, no, my darling boy; that is impossible! (Bending
over him.) Things are not so desperate as you think.
Oswald. Ah, you don't know--(Springs up.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103