Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/461

 Prepares a banquet for the son restored, And makes His noblest creature my reward. From this time forth I'll never leave that Light,— But stand its armed defender in the fight; Nothing shall part us, and our life shall prove A song of glory to triumphant love!

And see how easy triumph is for two, When he's a man—

She, woman thro' and thro';— It is impossible for such to fall!

Then up, and to the war with want and sorrow; This very hour I will declare it all!

[Pointing to ring on her finger.

[hastily]. No, Svanhild, not to-night, wait till to-morrow! To-night we gather our young love's red rose; 'Twere sacrilege to smirch it with the prose Of common day. [The door into the garden-room opens.

Your mother's coming! Hide! No eye this night shall see thee as my bride!

[They go out among the trees by the summer-house. and  come out on the balcony.