Oswald (smiling sadly). Yes, just imagine! Naturally I assured
him that what he thought was impossible. But do you think he paid
any heed to me? No, he persisted in his opinion; and it was only
when I got out your letters and translated to him all the
passages that referred to my father--

Mrs. Alving. Well, and then?

Oswald. Well, then of course he had to admit that he was on the
wrong track; and then I learned the truth-- the incomprehensible
truth! I ought to have had nothing to do with the joyous happy
life I had lived with my comrades. It had been too much for my
strength. So it was my own fault!

Mrs. Alving. No, no, Oswald! Don't believe that--

Oswald. There was no other explanation of it possible, he said.
That is the most horrible part of it. My whole life incurably
ruined--just because of my own imprudence. All that I wanted to do
in the world-=not to dare to think of it any more--not to be able
to think of it! Oh! if only I could live my life over again--if
only I could undo what I have done! (Throws himself on his face
on the couch. MRS. ALVING wrings her hands, and walks up and down
silently fighting with herself.)

Oswald (looks up after a while, raising himself on his elbows).
If only it had been something I had inherited--something I could
not help. But, instead of that, to have disgracefully, stupidly,
thoughtlessly thrown away one's happiness, one's health,
everything in the world--one's future, one's life!