Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/197



[After a pause.] They call me keen-witted beyond all others in the land. I believe they are right. The keenest-witted—No one knows how I became so. For more than twenty years I have fought to save my child. is the key to the riddle. Ay, that sharpens the wits!

My wits? Where have they flown to-night? What has become of my forethought? There is a ringing and rushing in my ears. I see shapes before me, so lifelike that methinks I could lay hold on them.

Lord Jesus—what is this? Am I no longer mistress of my reason? Is it to come to that?

Nay, 'tis nought. 'Twill pass. There is no fear;—it will pass.

How peaceful it is in the hall to-night! No