Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/192

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Knodomar is dead, my lord!

[Stopping suddenly.] Knodomar dead! Dead, in the foreigners' quarters, on the Coelian hill. Dead? Indeed!—Ah, the Roman air is unwholesome. The King of the Alemanni died of home-sickness, my lord! The longing for kindred and freedom   wastes a man away, Decentius; yes, yes, I know that.—I should not have sent him living to Rome. I should have had him killed here. Caesar's heart is merciful. H'm! Home-sickness? Indeed! To the Master of the Horse,, who enters by the back.

Are you there, old faun? Tempt me no more.

[To .] Since the battle at Argentoratum, he is for ever talking to me of the triumphal chariot and the white horses. [To .] 'Twould be like Phaeton's career with the