are going to have? Brilliant sunshine! Now you can really see your home.
[She goes to the table and puts out the lamp. Sunrise. The glacier and the snow-peaks in the background glow in the morning light.
Oswald.
[Sits in the arm-chair with his back towards the landscape, without moving. Suddenly he says:] Mother, give me the sun.
Mrs. Alving.
[By the table, starts and looks at him.] What do you say?
Oswald.
[Repeats, in a dull, toneless voice.] The sun. The sun.
Mrs. Alving.
[Goes to him.] Oswald, what is the matter with you?
Oswald.
[Seems to shrink together in the chair; all his muscles relax; his face is expressionless, his eyes have a glassy stare.]
Mrs. Alving.
[Quivering with terror.] What is this? [Shrieks.] Oswald! what is the matter with you? [Falls on her knees beside him and shakes him.] Oswald! Oswald! look at me! Don't you know me?
Oswald.
[Tonelessly as before.] The sun.—The sun.
Mrs. Alving.
[Springs up in despair, entwines her hands in her
