Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/256



Home!

Too late! Too late! Along the height press on!

[Enters in haste.]

O lucky chance I caught you up

Ah, dear kind master, don't be stern

Not now; provided you return! A better day, a brighter season Dawns for us! If you'll hark to reason, You'll all be rich men ere you sup!

How so?

There is a herring-horde By millions swimming in the fjord!

What does he say?

Set all to rights! Fly from these stormy uplands bare. Till now the herrings swam elsewhere; Now, friends, at last, our barren bights Good fortune tardily requites.