Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/291

 Mrs. Alving.

This can never be, Oswald!

Oswald.

It's a settled thing. Can't you see that? It's no use saying anything against it.

[Regina enters with an empty glass, which she keeps in her hand.

Oswald.

Sit down, Regina.

[Regina looks inquiringly at Mrs. Alving.

Mrs. Alving.

Sit down. [Regina sits on a chair by the dining-room door, still holding the empty glass in her hand.] Oswald—what were you saying about the joy of life?

Oswald.

Ah, the joy of life, mother—that's a thing you don't know much about in these parts. I have never felt it here.

Mrs. Alving.

Not when you are with me?

Oswald.

Not when I'm at home. But you don't understand that.

Mrs. Alving.

Yes, yes; I think I almost understand it—now.

Oswald.

And then, too, the joy of work! At bottom, it's the same thing. But that, too, you know nothing about.