Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/253



[In a low voice.]

Is it his way to light a lantern For life's night-pilgrimage through fear?

Ah, come! When once the thing's cleared up, You'd seem a messenger of light?

Friend,—have you once in each half-year Felt all the earnestness of dread?

Why, one's afraid when danger threatens;— But all your words have double meanings.

Ay, have you gained but once in life The victory that is given in dread?

[Looks at him.]

Came you to ope for me a door, 'Twas stupid not to come before. What sort of sense is there in choosing Your time when seas gape to devour one?

Were, then, the victory more likely Beside your hearthstone, snug and quiet?

Perhaps not; but your talk was quizzical. How could you fancy it awakening?