Written in 1881, when melodrama and farce were still at their peak of popularity, Ibsen’sGhosts is a three-act tragedy that explores uncomfortable, even forbidden themes. It is also a highly critical commentary on the morality of the day. The play centers around the widow of a prominent Norwegian sea captain whose son returns home and, with tragic consequences, revives the ghosts of the past that she has long labored to put to rest.
Ghosts immediately became a source of controversy for its inclusion of topics like venereal disease, incest, and euthanasia, and it was banned from being performed in England for many years. Its arrival signals a shift in the nature of theatre and, despite negative criticism, it was translated into other languages and performed in Sweden, Germany, and New York within a few years of its debut. It stands now as one of the works considered to have ushered in the era of modern drama.
tell you. They’re not the sort of people to marry.
Engstrand
Then never mind about marrying them. You can make it pay all the same. More confidentially. He—the Englishman—the man with the yacht—he came down with three hundred dollars, he did; and she wasn’t a bit handsomer than you.
Regina
Making for him. Out you go!
Engstrand
Falling back. Come, come! You’re not going to hit me, I hope.
Regina
Yes, if you begin talking about mother I shall hit you. Get away with you, I say! Drives him back towards the garden door. And don’t slam the doors. Young Mr. Alving—
Engstrand
He’s asleep; I know. You’re mightily taken up about young Mr. Alving—More softly. Oho! you don’t mean to say it’s him as—?
Regina
Be off this minute! You’re crazy, I tell you! No, not that way. There comes Pastor Manders. Down the kitchen stairs with you.
Engstrand
Towards the right. Yes, yes, I’m going. But just you talk to him as is coming there. He’s the man to tell you what a child owes its father. For I am your father all the same, you know. I can prove it from the church register.
He goes out through the second door to the right, which Regina has opened, and closes again after him. Regina glances hastily at herself in the mirror, dusts herself with her pocket handkerchief; and settles her necktie; then she busies herself with the flowers.
Pastor Manders, wearing an overcoat, carrying an umbrella, and with a small travelling bag on a strap over his shoulder, comes through the garden door into the conservatory.
Manders
Good morning, Miss Engstrand.
Regina
Turning round, surprised and pleased. No, really! Good morning, Pastor Manders. Is the steamer in already?
Manders
It is just in. Enters the sitting-room. Terrible weather we have been having lately.
Regina
Follows him. It’s such blessed weather for the country, sir.
Manders
No doubt; you are quite right. We townspeople give too little thought to that. He begins to take off his overcoat.
Regina
Oh, mayn’t I help you?—There! Why, how wet it is? I’ll just hang it up in the hall. And your umbrella, too—I’ll open it and let it dry.
She goes out with the things through the second door on the right. Pastor Manders takes off his travelling bag and lays it and his hat on a chair. Meanwhile Regina comes in again.
Manders
Ah, it’s a comfort to get safe under cover. I hope everything is going on well here?
Regina
Yes, thank you, sir.
Manders
You have your hands full, I suppose, in preparation for tomorrow?
Regina
Yes, there’s plenty to do, of course.
Manders
And Mrs. Alving is at home, I trust?
Regina
Oh dear, yes. She’s just upstairs, looking after the young master’s chocolate.
Manders
Yes, by the by—I heard down at the pier that Oswald had arrived.
Regina
Yes, he came the day before yesterday. We didn’t expect him before today.
Manders
Quite strong and well, I hope?
Regina
Yes, thank you, quite; but dreadfully tired with the journey. He has made one rush right through from Paris—the whole way in one train, I believe. He’s sleeping a little now, I think; so perhaps we’d better talk a little quietly.
Manders
Sh!—as quietly as you please.
Regina
Arranging an armchair beside the table. Now, do sit down, Pastor Manders, and make yourself comfortable. He sits down; she places a footstool under his feet. There! Are you comfortable now, sir?
Manders
Thanks, thanks, extremely so. Looks at her. Do you know, Miss Engstrand, I positively believe you have grown since I last saw you.
Regina
Do you think so, Sir? Mrs. Alving says I’ve filled out too.
Manders
Filled out? Well, perhaps a little; just enough.
Short pause.
Regina
Shall I tell Mrs. Alving you are here?
Manders
Thanks, thanks, there is no hurry, my dear child.—By the by, Regina, my good girl, tell me: how is your father getting on out here?
Regina
Oh, thank you, sir, he’s getting on well enough.
Manders
He called upon me last time he was in town.
Regina
Did he, indeed? He’s always so glad of a chance of talking to you, sir.
Manders
And you often look in upon him at his work, I daresay?
Regina
I? Oh, of course, when I have time, I—
Manders
Your father is not a man of strong character, Miss Engstrand. He stands terribly in need of a guiding hand.
Regina
Oh, yes; I daresay he does.
Manders
He requires someone near him whom he cares for, and whose judgment he respects. He frankly admitted as much when he last came to see me.
Regina
Yes, he mentioned something of the sort to me. But I don’t know whether Mrs. Alving can spare me; especially now that we’ve got the new Orphanage to attend to. And then I should be so sorry to leave Mrs. Alving; she has always been so kind to me.
Manders
But a daughter’s duty, my good girl—Of course, we should first have to get your mistress’s consent.
Regina
But I don’t know whether it would be quite proper for me, at my age, to keep house for a single man.
Manders
What! My dear Miss Engstrand! When the man is your own father!
Regina
Yes, that may be; but all the same—Now, if it were in a thoroughly nice house, and with a real gentleman—
Manders
Why, my dear Regina—
Regina
—one I could love and respect, and be a daughter to—
Manders
Yes, but my dear, good child—
Regina
Then I should be glad to go to town. It’s very lonely out here; you know yourself, sir, what it is to be alone in the world. And I can assure you I’m both quick and willing. Don’t you know of any such place for me, sir?
Manders
I? No, certainly not.
Regina
But, dear, dear Sir, do remember me if—
Manders
Rising. Yes, yes, certainly, Miss Engstrand.
Regina
For if I—
Manders
Will you be so good as to tell your mistress I am here?
Regina
I will, at once, sir. She goes out to the left.
Manders
Paces the room two or three times, stands a
Comments (0)