Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/103



Are you such a lad, eh?

You shall judge for yourselves!

To the hut! To the hut!

We have mead!

Let it flow!

No cot shall stand empty this Saturday night!

[Kissing him.] He sparkles and glisters like white-heated iron. [Doing likewise.] Like a baby's eyes from the blackest tarn. [Dancing in the midst of them.] Heavy of heart and wanton of mind. The eyes full of laughter, the throat of tears! [Making mocking gestures towards the mountain-tops, screaming and singing.]  Trond of the Valfjeld! Bård and Kårë! Troll-pack!—To-night who shall sleep in our arms? [They dance away over the heights, with in their midst.