Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/224



Outside? No, there you are strangely mistaken! It's here, sir, that one is oneself with a vengeance; Oneself, and nothing whatever besides. We go, full sail, as our very selves. Each one shuts himself up in the barrel of self, In the self-fermentation he dives to the bottom,— With the self-bung he seals it hermetically, And seasons the staves in the well of self. No one has tears for the other's woes; No one has mind for the other's ideas. We're our very selves, both in thought and tone, Ourselves to the spring-board's uttermost verge,— And so, if a Kaiser's to fill the Throne, It is clear that you are the very man.

O would that the devil!

Come, don't be cast down; Almost all things in nature are new at the first. "Oneself";—come, here you shall see an example; I'll choose you at random the first man that comes     [To a gloomy figure. Good-day, Huhu? Well, my boy, wandering round For ever with misery's impress upon you?

Can I help it, when the people, Race by race, dies untranslated.

[To .

You're a stranger; will you listen?