Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/56



Oh, hold your tongue You're as mad as mad can be.— Ah, and yet it's true enough,— Something might have come of you, Had you not been steeped for ever In your lies and trash and moonshine. Hegstad's girl was fond of you. Easily you could have won her Had you wooed her with a will

Could I?

The old man's too feeble Not to give his child her way. He is stiff-necked in a fashion; But at last 'tis Ingrid rules; And where she leads, step by step Stumps the gaffer, grumbling, after.

[Begins to cry again.

Ah, my Peer!—a golden girl— Land entailed on her! Just think, Had you set your mind upon it, You'd be now a bridegroom brave,— You that stand here grimed and tattered!

[Briskly.]

Come, we'll go a-wooing then!

Where?

At Hegstad!