Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/190

 Horster.

Oh, that was all right. I am tolerably able-bodied, you know; and those fellows' bark is worse than their bite.

Dr. Stockmann.

Yes, isn't it extraordinary, this piggish cowardice? Come here, and let me show you something! Look, here are all the stones they threw in at us. Only look at them? Upon my soul there aren't more than two decent-sized lumps in the whole heap; the rest are nothing but pebbles—mere gravel. They stood down there, and yelled, and swore they'd half kill me;—but as for really doing it—no, there's mighty little fear of that in this town!

Horster.

You may thank your stars for that this time, Doctor.

Dr. Stockmann.

So I do, of course. But it's depressing all the same; for if ever it should come to a serious national struggle, you may be sure public opinion would be for taking to its heels, and the compact majority would scamper for their lives like a flock of sheep, Captain Horster. That is what's so melancholy to think of; it grieves me to the heart.—But deuce take it—it's foolish of me to feel anything of the sort! They have called me an enemy of the people; well then, let me be an enemy of the people!

Mrs. Stockmann. That you'll never be, Thomas.