Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/159



Why, what should be the end of war But reasonable terms of peace? To kick at pricks is not my way, I'm made of common human clay; When at your breast the lance you feel It is but reason to give place;— With but a switch to parry steel, 'Tis just to make a volte-face; Left of your cause the sole defender, It is the wisest to surrender.

Two things are noticeable here. First, that you call me strong. Of men I have the larger part.

That's clear.

Now, possibly: but when shall rise The great dread day of sacrifice, Who will have more supporters then?

Of sacrifice? Why, goodness me, That's just the day we never see At least, the sacrifice no worse is Than drafts upon good people's purses; The age is too humane to bring Any more costly offering. And what's most vexing is, that I Myself have all along been noted Of those who the Humane promoted