overwork. Believe me, that is so.

Oswald (dully). I thought so too, at first; but it isn't so.

Mrs. Alving. Tell me all about it.

Oswald. Yes, I will.

Mrs. Alving. When did you first feel anything?

Oswald. It was just after I had been home last time and had got back to
Paris. I began to feel the most violent pains in my head--mostly at the
back, I think. It was as if a tight band of iron was pressing on me
from my neck upwards.

Mrs. Alving. And then?

Oswald. At first I thought it was nothing but the headaches I always
used to be so much troubled with while I was growing.

Mrs. Alving. Yes, yes.

Oswald. But it wasn't; I soon saw that. I couldn't work any longer. I
would try and start some big new picture; but it seemed as if all my
faculties had forsaken me, as if all my strengths were paralysed. I
couldn't manage to collect my thoughts; my head seemed to
swim--everything went round and round. It was a horrible feeling! At
last I sent for a doctor--and from him I learned the truth.

Mrs. Alving. In what way, do you mean?

Oswald. He was one of the best doctors there. He made me describe what
I felt, and then he began to ask me a whole heap of questions which
seemed to me to have nothing to do with the matter. I couldn't see what
he was driving at--

Mrs. Alving. Well?

Oswald. At last he said: "You have had the canker of disease in you
practically from your birth"--the actual word he used was "vermoulu"...

Mrs. Alving (anxiously). What did he mean by that? Oswald. I couldn't
understand, either--and I asked him for a clearer explanation, And then
the old cynic said--(clenching his fist). Oh!

Mrs. Alving. What did he say?

Oswald. He said: "The sins of the fathers are visited on the children."

Mrs. Alving (getting up slowly). The sins of the fathers--!

Oswald. I nearly struck him in the face.

Mrs. Alving (walking across the room). The sins of the fathers--!

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