OSWALD. I may as well help to uncork it. [He also goes into the dining
room, the door of which swings half open behind him.]
MRS. ALVING. [Who has opened the parcel.] Yes, I thought so. Here is the
Ceremonial Ode, Pastor Manders.
MANDERS. [With folded hands.] With what countenance I am to deliver my
discourse to-morrow--!
MRS. ALVING. Oh, you will get through it somehow.
MANDERS. [Softly, so as not to be heard in the dining-room.] Yes; it
would not do to provoke scandal.
MRS. ALVING. [Under her breath, but firmly.] No. But then this long,
hateful comedy will be ended. From the day after to-morrow, I shall act
in every way as though he who is dead had never lived in this house.
There shall be no one here but my boy and his mother.
[From the dining-room comes the noise of a chair overturned, and at the
same moment is heard:]
REGINA. [Sharply, but in a whisper.] Oswald! take care! are you mad? Let
me go!
MRS. ALVING. [Starts in terror.] Ah--!
[She stares wildly towards the half-open door. OSWALD is heard laughing
and humming. A bottle is uncorked.]
MANDERS. [Agitated.] What can be the matter? What is it, Mrs. Alving?
MRS. ALVING. [Hoarsely.] Ghosts! The couple from the conservatory--risen
again!
MANDERS. Is it possible! Regina--? Is she--?
MRS. ALVING. Yes. Come. Not a word--!
[She seizes PASTOR MANDERS by the arm, and walks unsteadily towards the
dining-room.]