Ghosts | Page 6

the blame for everything.
REGINA. [Turns away; half aloud.] Ugh--! And that leg too!
ENGSTRAND. What do you say, my child?
REGINA. Pied de mouton.
ENGSTRAND. Is that English, eh?
REGINA. Yes.
ENGSTRAND. Ay, ay; you've picked up some learning out here; and
that may come in useful now, Regina.
REGINA. [After a short silence.] What do you want with me in town?
ENGSTRAND. Can you ask what a father wants with his only child?
A'n't I a lonely, forlorn widower?

REGINA. Oh, don't try on any nonsense like that with me! Why do you
want me?
ENGSTRAND. Well, let me tell you, I've been thinking of setting up in
a new line of business.
REGINA. [Contemptuously.] You've tried that often enough, and much
good you've done with it.
ENGSTRAND. Yes, but this time you shall see, Regina! Devil take
me--
REGINA. [Stamps.] Stop your swearing!
ENGSTRAND. Hush, hush; you're right enough there, my girl. What I
wanted to say was just this--I've laid by a very tidy pile from this
Orphanage job.
REGINA. Have you? That's a good thing for you.
ENGSTRAND. What can a man spend his ha'pence on here in this
country hole?
REGINA. Well, what then?
ENGSTRAND. Why, you see, I thought of putting the money into
some paying speculation. I thought of a sort of a sailor's tavern--
REGINA. Pah!
ENGSTRAND. A regular high-class affair, of course; not any sort of
pig-sty for common sailors. No! damn it! it would be for captains and
mates, and--and--regular swells, you know.
REGINA. And I was to--?
ENGSTRAND. You were to help, to be sure. Only for the look of the
thing, you understand. Devil a bit of hard work shall you have, my girl.
You shall do exactly what you like.

REGINA. Oh, indeed!
ENGSTRAND. But there must be a petticoat in the house; that's as
clear as daylight. For I want to have it a bit lively like in the evenings,
with singing and dancing, and so on. You must remember they're weary
wanderers on the ocean of life. [Nearer.] Now don't be a fool and stand
in your own light, Regina. What's to become of you out here? Your
mistress has given you a lot of learning; but what good is that to you?
You're to look after the children at the new Orphanage, I hear. Is that
the sort of thing for you, eh? Are you so dead set on wearing your life
out for a pack of dirty brats?
REGINA. No; if things go as I want them to--Well there's no saying--
there's no saying.
ENGSTRAND. What do you mean by "there's no saying"?
REGINA. Never you mind.--How much money have you saved?
ENGSTRAND. What with one thing and another, a matter of seven or
eight hundred crowns. [A "krone" is equal to one shilling and
three-halfpence.]
REGINA. That's not so bad.
ENGSTRAND. It's enough to make a start with, my girl.
REGINA. Aren't you thinking of giving me any?
ENGSTRAND. No, I'm blest if I am!
REGINA. Not even of sending me a scrap of stuff for a new dress?
ENGSTRAND. Come to town with me, my lass, and you'll soon get
dresses enough.
REGINA. Pooh! I can do that on my own account, if I want to.
ENGSTRAND. No, a father's guiding hand is what you want, Regina.

Now, I've got my eye on a capital house in Little Harbour Street. They
don't want much ready-money; and it could be a sort of a Sailors' Home,
you know.
REGINA. But I will not live with you! I have nothing whatever to do
with you. Be off!
ENGSTRAND. You wouldn't stop long with me, my girl. No such luck!
If you knew how to play your cards, such a fine figure of a girl as
you've grown in the last year or two--
REGINA. Well?
ENGSTRAND. You'd soon get hold of some mate--or maybe even a
captain--
REGINA. I won't marry any one of that sort. Sailors have no savoir
vivre.
ENGSTRAND. What's that they haven't got?
REGINA. I know what sailors are, I 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