Henrik Ibsen

PEER GYNT (Illustrated Edition)


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      Who?

      Peer

      Why Aslak, to be sure.

      Åse

      Shame — and shame; I spit upon you!

       Such a worthless sot as that,

       such a brawler, such a sodden

       dram-sponge to have beaten you!

      [Weeping again.]

      Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered;

       but that this should come to pass

       is the worst disgrace of all.

       What if he be ne’er so limber,

       need you therefore be a weakling?

      Peer

      Though I hammer or am hammered,—

       still we must have lamentations.

      [Laughing.]

      Cheer up, mother —

      Åse

      What? You’re lying

       now again?

      Peer

      Yes, just this once.

       Come now, wipe your tears away;—

      [Clenching his left hand.]

      see,— with this same pair of tongs,

       thus I held the smith bent double,

       while my sledge-hammer right fist —

      Åse

      Oh, you brawler! You will bring me

       with your doings to the grave!

      Peer

      No, you’re worth a better fate;

       better twenty thousand times!

       Little, ugly, dear old mother,

       you may safely trust my word,—

       all the parish shall exalt you;

       only wait till I have done

       something — something really grand!

      Åse [contemptuously]

      You!

      Peer

      Who knows what may befall one!

      Åse

      Would you’d get so far in sense

       one day as to do the darning

       of your breeches for yourself!

      Peer [hotly]

      I will be a king, a kaiser!

      Åse

      Oh, God comfort me, he’s losing

       all the wits that he had left!

      Peer

      Yes, I will! just give me time!

      Åse

      Give you time, you’ll be a prince,

       so the saying goes, I think!

      Peer

      You shall see!

      Åse

      Oh, hold your tongue!

       You’re as mad as mad can be.—

       Ah, and yet it’s true enough,—

       something might have come of you,

       had you not been steeped for ever

       in your lies and trash and moonshine.

       Hegstad’s girl was fond of you.

       Easily you could have won her

       had you wooed her with a will —

      Peer

      Could I?

      Åse

      The old man’s too feeble

       not to give his child her way.

       He is stiff-necked in a fashion

       but at last ’tis Ingrid rules;

       and where she leads, step by step,

       stumps the gaffer, grumbling, after.

      [Begins to cry again.]

      Ah, my Peer!— a golden girl —

       land entailed on her! just think,

       had you set your mind upon it,

       you’d be now a bridegroom brave,—

       you that stand here grimed and tattered!

      Peer [briskly]

      Come, we’ll go a-wooing, then!

      Åse

      Where?

      Peer

      At Hegstad!

      Åse

      Ah, poor boy;

       Hegstad way is barred to wooers!

      Peer

      How is that?

      Åse

      Ah, I must sigh!

       Lost the moment, lost the luck —

      Peer

      Speak!

      Åse [sobbing]

      While in the Wester-hills

       you in air were riding reindeer,

       here Mads Moen’s won the girl!

      Peer

      What! That women’s-bugbear! He —!

      Åse

      Ay, she’s taking him for husband.

      Peer

      Wait you here till I have harnessed

       horse and waggon —

      [Going.]

      Åse

      Spare your pains.

       They are to be wed to-morrow —

      Peer

      Pooh; this evening I’ll be there!

      Åse

      Fie now! Would you crown our miseries

       with a load of all men’s scorn?

      Peer

      Never fear; ’twill all go well.

      [Shouting and laughing at the same time.]

      Mother, jump! We’ll spare the waggon;

       ’twould take time to fetch the mare up —

      [Lifts her up in his arms.]

      Åse

      Put me down!

      Peer

      No, in my arms

       I will bear you to the wedding!

      [Wades out into the stream.]

      Åse

      Help! The Lord have mercy on us!

       Peer! We’re drowning —

      Peer

      I was born

       for a braver death —

      Åse

      Ay, true;

       sure enough you’ll hang at last!

      [Tugging