Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/162

 In just the way it first was won; Ay, ay,—and by another track I'll get my old possession back.

So all your cunning, all your art, Aim'd but to win the people's heart?

God help me, no! The common good And profit of this neighbourhood Has been my single, sole desire. But, I admit, there did conspire The worker's hope of worthy hire For day's work honestly pursued. The fact stands thus: a resolute And able man, with sense to boot, Demands to see his labour's fruit, And not to drudge and sweat and groan To profit an Idea alone. With the best will I can't afford To throw my interests overboard, And give my brains without reward. I've a large household to supply, A wife, and of grown girls a store, Who must be first provided for;— Belly that's empty, throat that's dry, The idea scarce will satisfy, Where mouths so many must be fill'd. And any man who should demur, For him I have but one reply,— He's an unworthy householder.

And now your object is—?