Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/157



Cakes? Ay, a heaped-up dish. And the dean's wife is getting ready Your coffee and your dessert.

Lord, Lord! shall we two come together?

As freely as ever you will.

Oh, deary, Peer, what a frolic You're driving me to, poor soul!

[Cracking his whip.]

Gee-up; will you stir yourself, Black-boy!

Peer, dear, you're driving right?

[Cracking his whip again.]

Ay, broad is the way.

This journey, It makes me so weak and tired.

There's the castle rising before us; The drive will be over soon.