Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 4).djvu/275

 PEER
 * You're sent for? What do you want?

THE BUTTON-MOULDER
 * Why, see here;
 * I'm a button-moulder. You're to go into my ladle.

PEER
 * And what to do there?

THE BUTTON-MOULDER
 * To be melted up.

PEER
 * To be melted?

THE BUTTON-MOULDER
 * Here it is, empty and scoured.
 * Your grave is dug ready, your coffin bespoke.
 * The worms in your body will live at their ease;-
 * but I have orders, without delay,
 * on Master's behalf to fetch in your soul.

PEER
 * It can't be! Like this, without any warning-!

THE BUTTON-MOULDER
 * It's an old tradition at burials and births
 * to appoint in secret the day of the feast,
 * with no warning at all to the guest of honour.

PEER
 * Ay, ay, that's true. All my brain's awhirl.
 * You are-?

THE BUTTON-MOULDER
 * Why, I told you-a button-moulder.