Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/86



Father, most.

Father? Ay, ay; he is one of the quiet ones! One of the godly, eh?—Answer, come!

What shall I say?

Is your father a psalm-singer? And you and your mother as well, no doubt? Come, will you speak?

Let me go in peace.

No!     [In a low but sharp and threatening tone. I can turn myself into a troll! I'll come to your bedside at midnight to-night. If you should hear some one hissing and spitting, You mustn't imagine it's only the cat. It's me, lass! I'll drain out your blood in a cup, And your little sister, I'll eat her up; Ay, you must know I'm a were-wolf at night;— I'll bite you all over the loins and the back

[Suddenly changes his tone, and entreats, as if in dread:

Dance with me, lass!

[Looking darkly at him.]

You were ugly then.

[Goes into the house