Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/310



Cry aloud my crime!

[Sits down beside him.]

Thou hast made all my life as a beautiful song. Blessëd be thou that at last thou hast come! Blessëd, thrice blessëd our Whitsun-morn meeting!

Then I am lost!

There is one that rules all things.

[Laughs.]

Lost! Unless thou canst answer riddles.

Tell me them.

Tell them! Come on! To be sure! Canst thou tell where Peer Gynt has been since we parted?

Been?

With his destiny's seal on his brow; Been, as in God's thought he first sprang forth! Canst thou tell me? If not, I must get me home,— Go down to the mist-shrouded regions.

[Smiling.]

Oh, that riddle is easy.