Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/43

 1816 or thereabouts, forced him to sell some of his land.

Stensgård.

And your father bought it?

Heire.

Bought and paid for it. Well, what then? I come into my property; I make improvements by the thousand

Bastian.

Of course.

Heire.

Your health, my young friend!—Improvements by the thousand, I say—thinning the woods, and so forth. Years pass; and then comes Master Reynard—the present one, I mean—and repudiates the bargain!

Stensgård.

But, my dear Mr. Heire, you could surely have snapped your fingers at him.

Heire.

Not so easily! Some small formalities had been overlooked, he declared. Besides, I happened then to be in temporary difficulties, which afterwards became permanent. And what can a man do nowadays without capital?

Monsen.

You're right there, by God! And in many ways you can't do very much with capital either. That I know to my cost. Why, even my innocent children