Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 4).djvu/177

 PF
 * Witty, but a jest!

PEER [after a short silence, leaning on a chair and assuming a
 * dignified mien].
 * Come, gentlemen, I think it best
 * we part before the last remains
 * of friendship melt away like smoke.
 * Who nothing owns will lightly risk it.
 * When in the world one scarce commands
 * the strip of earth one's shadow covers,
 * one's born to serve as food for powder.
 * But when a man stands safely landed,
 * as I do, then his stake is greater.
 * Go you to Hellas. I will put you
 * ashore, and arm you gratis too.
 * The more you eke the flames of strife,
 * the better will it serve my purpose.
 * Strike home for freedom and for right!
 * Fight! storm! make hell hot for the Turks;-
 * and gloriously end your days
 * upon the Janissaries' lances.-
 * But I-excuse me-
 * [Slaps his pocket.]
 * I have cash,
 * and am myself, Sir Peter Gynt.

[Puts up his sunshade, and goes into the grove, where the hammocks are partly visible.] TRUMPETERSTRALE
 * The swinish cur!

MONSIEUR BALLON
 * No taste for glory