Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/54

18

[Smiling faintly.] Which Gallus and I built Gallus finished his aisle; but I; mine never fully prospered.—How has it gone on since?

Not at all. The builders said it was impossible as you had planned it.

[Thoughtfully.] No doubt, no doubt. I wronged them in thinking them incapable. Now I know why it was not to be. I must tell you, Agathon;—Mamas was a false saint.

The Holy Mamas?

That Mamas was never a martyr. His whole legend was a strange delusion. Hekebolius has, with infinite research, arrived at the real truth, and I myself have lately composed a slight treatise on the subject—a treatise, my Agathon, which certain philosophers are said, strangely enough, to have mentioned with praise in the lecture-rooms

The Lord keep my heart free from vanity! The evil tempter has countless wiles; one can never know.

That Gallus should succeed and I fail! Ah, my Agathon, when I think of that church-building, I see Cain's altar

Julian!