Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/237



Hold, yourself! Here's sulphur fume, I see the glints of Satan's horn! I am Salvation's good wheat-corn, And you the shovell'd chaff of Doom. [Goes.

[''Looks a while after him; all at once his eyes flash and he breaks out.'']

That, that is the man I need! Now all bonds are burst that bound me; Now my flag shall wave around me Though none follow where I lead!

[Comes hastily in.]

Pray, dear Pastor, hasten, do! The procession-people stand Waiting only the command—

Let them come then!

Wanting you! Pray reflect, and hasten in! All impatient to begin, See, the whole mass throng and strain; Like a torrent after storm On the Manse they surge and swarm, Shouting for the Priest. Again, Hark you, for "the Priest" they shout, Pray make haste! I much misdoubt, They may scarcely prove humane!