Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 4).djvu/200

 then shall your lips, fresh and balmy,
 * to my smiling, passion whisper!

ANITRA [lies down at his feet].
 * All thy words are sweet as singing,
 * though I understand but little.
 * Master, tell me, can thy daughter
 * catch a soul by listening?

PEER
 * Soul, and spirit's light and knowledge,
 * all in good time you shall have them.
 * When in east, on rosy streamers
 * golden types print: Here is day,-
 * then, my child, I'll give you lessons;
 * you'll be well brought-up, no fear.
 * But, 'mid night's delicious stillness,
 * it were stupid if I should,
 * with a threadbare wisdom's remnants,
 * play the part of pedagogue.-
 * And the soul, moreover, is not,
 * looked at properly, the main thing.
 * It's the heart that really matters.

ANITRA
 * Speak, O Master! When thou speakest,
 * I see gleams, as though of opals!

PEER
 * Wisdom in extremes is folly;
 * coward blossoms into tyrant;
 * truth, when carried to excess,
 * ends in wisdom written backwards.
 * Ay, my daughter, I'm forsworn
 * as a dog if there are not