Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/185



[Moves towards him.] Rash boy! What would you here? Said I not you should wait within until I called you?

How could I? Now you have told me that Inger Gyldenlöve is my mother, I thirst more than ever to see her face to face

Oh, it is she! How proud and high her mien! Even thus did I ever picture her. Fear not, dear Sir,—I shall do nought rashly. Since I have learnt this secret, I feel, as it were, older and wiser. I will no longer be wild and heedless; I will be even as other well-born youths.—Tell me,—knows she that I am here? Surely you have prepared her?

Ay, sure enough; but

Well?

She will not own you for her son.

Will not own me? But she is my mother.—Oh, if it be that she doubts —[takes out a ring which he wears on a cord round his neck]—show her this ring. I have worn it since my earliest childhood; she must surely know its history.