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is.

Manders. Yes, but, my dear fellow-how--?

Engstrand. You might say Jacob Engstrand is an angel of
salvation, so to speak, your reverence.

Manders. No, no, I couldn't possibly accept that.

Engstrand. That's how it will be, all the same. I know someone
who has taken the blame for someone else on his shoulders before
now, I do.

Manders. Jacob! (Grasps his hand.) You are one in a thousand! You
shall have assistance in the matter of your Sailors' Home, you
may rely upon that.

(ENGSTRAND tries to thank him, but is prevented by emotion.)

Manders (hanging his wallet over his shoulder). Now we must be
off. We will travel together.

Engstrand (by the dining-room door, says aside to REGINA). Come
with me, you hussy! You shall be as cosy as the yolk in an egg!

Regina (tossing her head). Merci!

(She goes out into the hall and brings back MANDERS' luggage.)

Manders. Good-bye, Mrs. Alving! And may the spirit of order and
of what is lawful speedily enter into this house.

Mrs. Alving. Goodbye, Mr. Manders.

(She goes into the conservatory, as she sees OSWALD coming in by
the garden door.)

Engstrand (as he and REGINA are helping MANDERS on with his
coat). Goodbye, my child. And if anything should happen to you,
you know where Jacob Engstrand is to be found. (Lowering his
voice.) Little Harbour Street, ahem--! (To MRS. ALVING and
OSWALD.) And my house for poor seafaring men shall be called the
"Alving Home," it shall. And, if I can carry out my own ideas
about it, I shall make bold to hope that it may be worthy of
bearing the late Mr. Alving's name.

Manders (at the door). Ahem--ahem! Come along, my dear Engstrand.
Goodbye--goodbye!

(He and ENGSTRAND go out by the hall door.)

Oswald (going to the table). What house was he speaking about?

Mrs. Alving. I believe it is some sort of a Home that he and Mr.
Manders want to start.

Oswald. It will be burned up just like this one.

Mrs. Alving. What makes you think that?

Oswald. Everything will be burned up; nothing will be left that is
in memory of my father. Here am I being burned up, too.

(REGINA looks at him in alarm.)

Mrs. Alving. Oswald! You should not have stayed so long over
there, my poor boy.

Oswald (sitting down at the table). I almost believe you are
right.

Mrs: Alving. Let me dry your face, Oswald; you are all wet.
(Wipes his face with her handkerchief.)

Oswald (looking straight before him, with no expression in his
eyes). Thank you, mother.

Mrs. Alving. And aren't you tired, Oswald? Don't you want to go
to sleep?

Oswald (uneasily). No, no--not to sleep! I never sleep; I only
pretend to. (Gloomily.) That will come soon enough.

Mrs. Alving (looking at him anxiously). Anyhow you are really
ill, my darling boy.

Regina (intently). Is Mr. Alving ill?

Oswald (impatiently). And do shut all the doors! This deadly
fear--

Mrs. Alving. Shut the doors, Regina. (REGINA shuts the doors and
remains standing by the hall door. MRS, ALVING takes off her
shawl; REGINA does the same. MRS. ALVING draws up a chair near to

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