Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/53



[''A girl of fifteen, running along the crest with stones in her apron.'']

Ho! Good aim! He screams!

[She throws again.]

Hullo, child, stop that game!

Without a hurt he's sitting now, And swinging on a wind-swept bough!

[She throws again and screams.]

Now fierce as ever he's making for me. Help! Hoo! With claws he'll rend and gore me!

In the Lord's name

Whist! who are you? Hold still, hold still; he's flying.

Who?

Didn't you see the falcon fly?

Here? no.

The laidly fowl with crest Thwart on its sloping brow depress'd, And red-and-yellow circled eye