Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/52

16 *light, that I may see you.—How you have grown, Agathon;—how strong you look.

And you are paler.

I cannot thrive in the air of the palace. I think it is unwholesome here.—'Tis far otherwise at Makellon. Makellon lies high. No other town in Cappadocia lies so high; ah, how the fresh snow-winds from the Taurus sweep over it! Are you weary, Agathon?

Oh, in no wise.

Let us sit down nevertheless. It is so quiet and lonely here. Close together; so! [''Draws him down upon a seat beside the balustrade.'']—"Can any good thing come out of Cappadocia," they say. Yes—friends can come. Can anything be better?

[Looks long at him.

How was it possible that I did not know you at once? Oh, my beloved treasure, is it not just as when we were boys?

[Sinking down before him.] I at your feet, as of old.

No, no, no!

Oh, let me kneel thus!