Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/352

 [continuing].

But certain people always grow splenetic— Why, goodness knows—at everything pathetic, And scoff it down. We all know how, of late, An unfledged, upstart undergraduate Presumed, with brazen insolence, to declare That "William Russell" was a poor affair!

But what has this to do with Strawman, pray? Is he a poem, or a Christian play?

[with tears of emotion].

No, Falk,—a man, with heart as large as day. But when a—so to speak—mere lifeless thing Can put such venom into envy's sting, And stir up evil passions fierce and fell Of such a depth—

[sympathetically].

And such a length as well—

Why then, a man of your commanding brain Can't fail to see—

Oh yes, that's very plain. But hitherto I haven't quite made out The nature, style, and plot of this romance. It's something quite delightful I've no doubt— But just a little inkling in advance—