Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/64



I am undone! I am undone! Stern wast thou, God, when I was made!

[Approaching.]

Maybe, however, there is one.

[Seizing his arm.]

Then let him come, and swiftly!

Tell Your need, and he will surely come.

Across the fjord—my husband

Well?

Three starving babes, and ne'er a crumb, Say no,—he is not sent to hell!

Your story first.

My breast was dry; Man sent no help, and God was dumb; My babe was dying in agony; Cut to the heart,—his child he slew!—

He slew!