Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/127



There she is. Her haughty eyes seem veiled with thought.—Ah, if I but dared—. [Aloud.] Mistress Elina!

[Stops at the door.] What will you? Why do you pursue me?

You err; I pursue you not. I am myself pursued.

You?

By a multitude of thoughts. Therefore 'tis with sleep as with you:—it flees me.

Go to the window, and there you will find pastime;—a storm-tossed sea

[Smiles.] A storm-tossed sea? That may I find in you as well.

In me?

Ay, of that our first meeting has assured me.

And that offends you?