Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/278

 We're both in a hurry, and so, to save time, I'll explain the reason of the whole affair. You are, with your own lips you told me so, No sinner on the so-called heroic scale,— Scarce middling even

Ah, now you're beginning To talk common sense

Just have patience a bit— But to call you a good man were going too far.—

Well, you know I have never laid claim to that.

You're nor one thing nor t'other then, only so-so. A sinner of really grandiose style Is nowadays not to be met on the highways. It wants much more than merely to wallow in mire; For both vigour and earnestness go to a sin.

Ay, it's very true that remark of yours; One has to lay on, like the old Berserkers.

You, friend, on the other hand, took your sin lightly.

Only outwardly, friend, like a splash of mud.

Ah, we'll soon be at one now. The sulphur pool Is no place for you, who but plashed in the mire.