Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/145

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Wine is the soul of the grape. The freed and yet willing captive. Logos in Pan!

[Singing in the court]

Would'st thou know liberty? Drain Bacchus' blood;— Rock on the rhythm-sea, Float with its flood!

[Drinking.] Yes, Yes; there is freedom in intoxication. Canst thou interpret this rapture?

This intoxication is thy marriage with the soul of nature.

Sweet riddle; tempting, alluring! What was that? Why didst thou laugh?

I?

There is whispering on my left hand! The silk cushions rustle[''Springing half up with a pale face.''] Maximus, we are not alone!

[Loudly.] We are five at table!

Symposium with the spirits!