Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/106

 Aslaksen.

I can't live on a good paper. You were to make things lively; you were to grapple with abuses, as you promised yesterday. The bigwigs were to be pilloried; the paper was to be filled with things people were bound to read—and now, you leave me in the lurch

Stensgård.

Ho-ho! You think I am going to keep you supplied with libels! No, thank you, my good sir!

Aslaksen.

Mr. Stensgård, you musn't drive me to desperation, or you'll repent it.

Stensgård.

What do you mean?

Aslaksen.

I mean that I must make the paper pay in another way. Heaven knows I should be sorry to do it. Before you came I made an honest living out of accidents and suicides and other harmless things, that often hadn't even happened. But now you have turned everything topsy-turvy; people now want very different fare

Stensgård.

Just let me tell you this: if you break loose in any way, if you go a single step beyond my orders, and try to exploit the movement in your own dirty interests, I'll go to the opposition printer and start a new paper. We have money, you must know! We can bring your rag to ruin in a fortnight.