Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 5).djvu/70

34 he has said still more. He has said: "Behold yon princely Galilean; he is an Achilles of the spirit."

Achilles! [Softly.] My mother's dream!

There, in the open lecture-halls, lies the field of battle. Light and gladness encompass the fighters and the fray. Javelins of speech hurtle through the air; keen swords of wit clash in the combat; the blessed gods sit smiling in the clouds

Oh, away from me with your heathendom

and the heroes go home to their tents, their arms entwined, their hearts untouched by rancour, their cheeks aglow, the blood coursing swiftly through every vein, admired, applauded, and with laurels on their brows. Ah, where is Achilles? I cannot see him. Achilles is wroth

Achilles is unhappy!—But can I believe it? Oh, tell me—my brain is dizzy—has Libanius said all this?

What brought Libanius to Constantinople? Had he any other end than to achieve the illustrious friendship of a certain youth?