Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/268



Nay, Margit, my meaning you read aright! You were kind to me, both, in those far-away years— Your eyes, when we parted were wet with tears. We swore like brother and sister still To hold together in good hap or ill. 'Mid the other maids like a sun you shone, Far, far and wide was your beauty known. You are no less fair than you were, I wot; But Solhoug's mistress, I see, has forgot The penniless kinsman. So hard is your mind That ever of old was gentle and kind.

Aye, of old—!

Shall we do as your husband said? Pass the time with talk of the dear old days?

No, no, not of them!

Their memory's dead. My mind unwillingly backward strays. Tell rather of what your life has been, Of what in the wide world you've done and seen. Adventures you've lacked not, well I ween—