Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/162

 Dr. Stockmann.

Then for years I was imprisoned in a horrible hole, far away in the north. As I went about among the people scattered here and there over the stony wilderness, it seemed to me, many a time, that it would have been better for these poor famishing creatures to have had a cattle-doctor to attend them, instead of a man like me.

[Murmurs in the room.

Billing.

[Laying down his pen.] Strike me dead if I've ever heard!

Hovstad.

What an insult to an estimable peasantry!

Dr. Stockmann.

Wait a moment!—I don't think any one can reproach me with forgetting my native town up there. I sat brooding like an eider duck, and what I hatched was—the plan of the Baths.

[Applause and expressions of dissent.

Dr. Stockmann.

And when, at last, fate ordered things so happily that I could come home again—then, fellow citizens, it seemed to me that I hadn't another desire in the world. Yes, one desire I had: an eager, constant, burning desire to be of service to my birthplace, and to its people.

Burgomaster.

[Gazing into vacancy.] A strange method to select!

Dr. Stockmann.

So I went about revelling in my happy illusions.