Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/158

122

[Waving his wand once more.] Come forth, thou! [He stops suddenly, utters a shriek, and springs up from the table.

Ah! lightning in the night! I see it;—all art is in vain.

[Rising.] Why? Speak, speak!

The third is not yet among the shades.

He lives?

Yes, he lives.

And here, sayest thou!

Here, or there, or among the unborn;—I know not

[Rushing at him.] Thou liest! Thou art deceiving me! Here, here thou saidst!

Let go my cloak!

Then it is thou, or I! But which of us?

Let go my cloak, Julian!