Mrs. Alving (drawing back her hands). Doesn't matter!--that your
father's life was such a terrible failure!
Oswald. Of course I can feel sympathy for him, just as I would
for anyone else, but--
Mrs. Alving. No more than that! For your own father!
Oswald (impatiently). Father--father! I never knew anything of my
father. I don't remember anything else about him except that he
once made me sick.
Mrs. Alving. It is dreadful to think of!--But surely a child
should feel some affection for his father, whatever happens?
Oswald. When the child has nothing to thank his father for? When
he has never known him? Do you really cling to that antiquated
superstition--you, who are so broad-minded in other things?
Mrs. Alving. You call it nothing but a superstition!
Oswald. Yes, and you can see that for yourself quite well,
mother. It is one of those beliefs that are put into circulation
in the world, and--
Mrs. Alving. Ghosts of beliefs!
Oswald (walking across the room). Yes, you might call them
ghosts.
Mrs.
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