OSWALD. Well, you must know that all this fatigue--and my inability
to think of work--all that is not the illness itself--

MRS. ALVING. Then what is the illness itself?

OSWALD. The disease I have as my birthright--[He points to his
forehead and adds very softly]--is seated here.

MRS. ALVING. [Almost voiceless.] Oswald! No--no!

OSWALD. Don't scream. I can't bear it. Yes, mother, it is seated
here waiting. And it may break out any day--at any moment.

MRS. ALVING. Oh, what horror--!

OSWALD. Now, quiet, quiet. That is how it stands with me--

MRS. ALVING. [Springs up.] It's not true, Oswald! It's impossible!
It cannot be so!

OSWALD. I have had one attack down there already. It was soon over.
But when I came to know the state I had been in, then the dread
descended upon me, raging and ravening; and so I set off home to
you as fast as I could.

MRS. ALVING. Then this is the dread--!

OSWALD. Yes--it's so indescribably loathsome, you know. Oh, if it
had only been an ordinary mortal disease--! For I'm not so afraid