Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/88

 I stood and watched him from my nook, Saw how his two hands clasp'd the Book; I marvell'd why he slept so long, Mark'd his thin wrists, and smelt the strong Odour of linen newly dried;— And then I heard a step outside;— A woman enter'd, strode apace Up to the bed, nor saw my face. Then she began to grope and pry; First put the corpse's vesture by, Drew forth a bundle, then a store, Counted, and whisper'd: There is more! Then, grubbing deeper in the ground, Clutch'd a seal'd packet tightly bound, With trembling fingers strove and tore, Bit it in two, groped deeper, found, Counted, and whisper'd; There is more! She cried, she cursed, she wail'd, she wept, She scented where the treasure lay, And then with eager anguish swept Down like a falcon on her prey. When she had ransacked all the room, She turn'd, like one who hears her doom, Wrapp'd up her booty in a shawl, And faintly groan'd: So that was all!

I needed much, I little won; And very dearly was it bought.

Even more dearly than you thought; Son's-heart you shattered in your son.

Tut, tut. To barter hearts for gold