Of course I can pity him, as I would anybody else; but——
Mrs. Alving.
Nothing more! Your own father!
Oswald.
[Impatiently.] Oh, “father,”—“father”! I never knew anything of father. I remember nothing about him, except that he once made me sick.
Mrs. Alving.
This is terrible to think of! Ought not a son to love his father, whatever happens?
Oswald.
When a son has nothing to thank his father for? has never known him? Do you really cling to that old superstition?—you who are so enlightened in other ways?
Mrs. Alving.