Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/200



[Horrified.]

Liken thee, O earth's great treasure, To a horrible old cat!

Child, from passion's standpoint viewed, May a tom-cat and a prophet Come to very much the same.

Master, jest like honey floweth From thy lips.

My little friend, You, like other maidens, judge Great men by their outsides only. I am full of jest at bottom, Most of all when we're alone. I am forced by my position To assume a solemn mask. Duties of the day constrain me; All the reckonings and worry That I have with one and all, Make me oft a cross-grained prophet; But it's only from the tongue out.— Fudge, avaunt! En tête-à-tête I'm Peer—well, the man I am. Hei, away now with the prophet; Me, myself, you have me here!

[''Seats himself under a tree, and draws her to him.''

Come, Anitra, we will rest us Underneath the palm's green fan-shade! I'll lie whispering, you'll lie smiling; Afterwards our rôles exchange we;