Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/188

 That Nature has given to the light of day. One feels so secure, and so much more courageous,— One would gladly, at need, take a bull by the horns.— What a stillness all round! Ah, the joys of Nature,— Strange enough I should never have prized them before. Why go and imprison oneself in a city, For no end but just to be bored by the mob.— Just look how the lizards are whisking about, Snapping, and thinking of nothing at all. What innocence ev'n in the life of the beasts! Each fulfils the Creator's behest unimpeachably, Preserving its own special stamp undefaced; Is itself, is itself, both in sport and in strife, Itself, as it was at his primal: Be!

[Puts on his eye-glasses.

A toad. In the middle of a sandstone block. Petrifaction all around him. His head alone peering. There he's sitting and gazing as though through a window At the world, and is—to himself enough.—

[Reflectively.

Enough? To himself? Where is it that's written? I've read it, in youth, in some so-called classic. In the family prayer-book? Or Solomon's Proverbs? Alas, I notice that, year by year, My memory for dates and for places is fading.

[Seats himself in the shade.

Here's a cool spot to rest and to stretch out one's feet.