Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/277



I see! A pet child has many nicknames. So that's it, Peer; it is there you're to harbour But these, my good man, are most unfair proceedings! I'm sure I deserve better treatment than this;— I'm not nearly so bad as perhaps you think,— Indeed I've done more or less good in the world;— At worst you may call me a sort of a bungler,— But certainly not an exceptional sinner.

Why that is precisely the rub, my man; You're no sinner at all in the higher sense; That's why you're excused all the torture-pangs, And, like others, land in the casting-ladle.

Give it what name you please—call it ladle or pool; Spruce ale and swipes, they are both of them beer. Avaunt from me, Satan!

You can't be so rude As to take my foot for a horse's hoof?

On horse's hoof or on fox's claws — Be off; and be careful what you're about!

My friend, you're making a great mistake.