Chapter II: Part 2

Pronounce _Pair Günt_—the _G_ hard, the _y_ like the German
modified _ü_.

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PEER GYNT.

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ACT FIRST.

SCENE FIRST.

_A wooded hillside near ÅSE’S farm. A river rushes down the
slope. On the farther side of it an old mill-shed. It is a
hot day in summer._

_PEER GYNT, a strongly-built youth of twenty, comes down the
pathway. His mother, ÅSE, a small, slightly-built woman,
follows him, scolding angrily._

ÅSE.

Peer, you’re lying!

PEER.
[_Without stopping._]

No, I am not!

ÅSE.

Well then, swear that it is true!

PEER.

Swear? Why should I?

ÅSE.

See, you dare not!
It’s a lie from first to last.

PEER.
[_Stopping._]

It is true—each blessed word!

ÅSE.
[_Confronting him._]

Don’t you blush before your mother?
First you skulk among the mountains
Monthlong in the busiest season,
Stalking reindeer in the snows;
Home you come then, torn and tattered,
Gun amissing, likewise game;—
And at last, with open eyes,
Think to get me to believe
All the wildest hunters’-lies!—
Well, where did you find the buck, then?

PEER.

West near Gendin.[22]

ÅSE.
[_Laughing scornfully._]

Ah! Indeed.

PEER.

Keen the blast towards me swept;
Hidden by an alder-clump,
He was scraping in the snow-crust
After lichen——

ÅSE.
[_As before._]

Doubtless, yes!

PEER.

Breathlessly I stood and listened,
Heard the crunching of his hoof,
Saw the branches of one antler.
Softly then among the boulders
I crept forward on my belly.
Crouched in the moraine I peered up;—
Such a buck, so sleek and fat,
You, I’m sure, have ne’er set eyes on.

ÅSE.

No, of course not!

PEER.

Bang! I fired.
Clean he dropped upon the hillside.
But the instant that he fell,
I sat firm astride his back,
Gripped him by the left ear tightly,
And had almost sunk my knife-blade
In his neck, behind his skull—
When, behold! the brute screamed wildly.
Sprang upon his feet like lightning,
With a back-cast of his head
From my fist made knife and sheath fly,
Pinned me tightly by the thigh,
Jammed his horns against my legs,
Clenched me like a pair of tongs;—
Then forthwith away he flew
Right along the Gendin-Edge!

ÅSE.
[_Involuntarily._]

Jesus save us——!

PEER.

Have you ever
Chanced to see the Gendin-Edge?
Nigh on four miles long it stretches
Sharp before you like a scythe.
Down o’er glaciers, landslips, screes,
Down the toppling grey moraines,
You can see, both right and left,
Straight into the tarns that slumber,
Black and sluggish, more than seven
Hundred fathoms deep below you.
Right along the Edge we two
Clove our passage through the air.
Never rode I such a colt!
Straight before us as we rushed
’Twas as though there glittered suns.
Brown-backed eagles that were sailing
In the wide and dizzy void
Half-way ’twixt us and the tarns,
Dropped behind, like motes in air.
On the shores crashed hurtling ice-floes,
But no echo reached my ears.
Only sprites of dizziness[23] sprang,
Dancing, round;—they sang, they swung,
Circle-wise, past sight and hearing!

ÅSE.
[_Dizzy._]

Oh, God save me!

PEER.

All at once,
At a desperate, break-neck spot,
Rose a great cock-ptarmigan,
Flapping, cackling, terrified,
From the crack where he lay hidden
At the buck’s feet on the Edge.
Then the buck shied half around,
Leapt sky-high, and down we plunged,
Both of us, into the depths!

[_ÅSE totters, and catches at the trunk of a tree. PEER
GYNT continues_:

Mountain walls behind us, black,
And below a void unfathomed!
First we clove through banks of mist,
Then we clove a flock of sea-gulls,
So that they, in mid-air startled,
Flew in all directions, screaming.
Downward rushed we, ever downward.
But beneath us something shimmered,
Whitish, like a reindeer’s belly.—
Mother, ’twas our own reflection
In the glass-smooth mountain tarn,
Shooting up towards the surface
With the same wild rush of speed
Wherewith we were shooting downwards.

ÅSE.
[_Gasping for breath._]

Peer! God help me——! Quickly, tell——

PEER.

Buck from over, buck from under,
In a moment clashed together,
Scattering foam-flecks all around.
There we lay then, floating, plashing,—
But at last we made our way
Somehow to the northern shore;
Swam the buck, I clung behind him:—
I ran homewards——

ÅSE.

But the buck, dear?

PEER.

He’s there still, for aught I know;—

[_Snaps his fingers, turns on his heel, and adds_:

Catch him, and you’re welcome to him!

ÅSE.

And your neck you haven’t broken?
Haven’t broken both your thighs?
And your backbone, too, is whole?
Oh, dear Lord—what thanks, what praise,
Should be thine who helped my boy!
There’s a rent, though, in your breeches;
But it’s scarce worth talking of
When one thinks what dreadful things
Might have come of such a leap——!

[_Stops suddenly, looks at him open-mouthed and
wide-eyed; cannot find words for some time, but at
last bursts out_:

Oh, you devil’s story-teller,
Cross of Christ, how you can lie!
All this screed you foist upon me,
I remember now, I knew it
When I was a girl of twenty.
Gudbrand Glesnë[24] it befell,
Never you, you——

PEER.

Me as well.
Such a thing can happen twice.

ÅSE.
[_Exasperated._]

Yes, a lie, turned topsy-turvy,
Can be prinked and tinselled out,
Decked in plumage new and fine,
Till none knows its lean old carcass.
That is just what you’ve been doing,
Vamping up things, wild and grand,
Garnishing with eagles’ backs
And with all the other horrors,
Lying right and lying left,
Filling me with speechless dread,
Till at last I recognised not
What of old I’d heard and known!

PEER.

If another talked like that
I’d half kill him for his pains.

ÅSE.
[_Weeping._]

Oh, would God I lay a corpse;
Would the black earth held me sleeping.
Prayers and tears don’t bite upon him.—
Peer, you’re lost, and ever will be!

PEER.

Darling, pretty little mother,
You are right in every word;—
Don’t be cross, be happy——

ÅSE.

Silence!
Could I, if I would, be happy,
With a pig like you for son?
Think how bitter I must find it,
I, a poor defenceless widow,
Ever to be put to shame!
[_Weeping again._
How much have we now remaining
From your grandsire’s days of glory?
Where are now the sacks[25] of coin
Left behind by Rasmus Gynt?
Ah, your father lent them wings,—
Lavished them abroad like sand,
Buying land in every parish,
Driving round in gilded chariots.
Where is all the wealth he wasted
At the famous winter-banquet,
When each guest sent glass and bottle
Shivering ’gainst the wall behind him?

PEER.

Where’s the snow of yester-year?

ÅSE.

Silence, boy, before your mother!
See the farmhouse! Every second
Window-pane is stopped with clouts.
Hedges, fences, all are down,
Beasts exposed to wind and weather,
Fields and meadows lying fallow,
Every month a new distraint——

PEER.

Come now, stop this old-wife’s talk!
Many a time has luck seemed drooping,
And sprung up as high as ever!

ÅSE.

Salt strewn is the soil it grew from.
Lord, but you’re a rare one, you,—
Just as pert and jaunty still,
Just as bold as when the Pastor,
Newly come from Copenhagen,
Bade you tell your Christian name,
And declared that such a headpiece
Many a Prince down there might envy;
Till the cob your father gave him,
With a sledge to boot, in thanks
For his pleasant, friendly talk.—
Ah, but things went bravely then!
Provost,[26] Captain, all the rest,
Dropped in daily, ate and drank,
Swilling, till they well-nigh burst.
But ’tis need that tests one’s neighbour.
Lonely here it grew, and silent,
From the day that “Gold-bag Jon”[27]
Started with his pack, a pedlar.
[_Dries her eyes with her apron._
Ah, you’re big and strong enough,
You should be a staff and pillar
For your mother’s frail old age,—
You should keep the farm-work going,
Guard the remnants of your gear;—
[_Crying again._
Oh, God help me, small’s the profit
You have been to me, you scamp!
Lounging by the hearth at home,
Grubbing in the charcoal embers;
Or, round all the country, frightening
Girls away from merry-makings—
Shaming me in all directions,
Fighting with the worst rapscallions——

PEER.
[_Turning away from her._]

Let me be.

ÅSE.
[_Following him._]

Can you deny
That you were the foremost brawler
In the mighty battle royal
Fought the other day at Lundë;
When you raged like mongrels mad?
Who was it but you that broke
Blacksmith Aslak’s arm for him,—
Or at any rate that wrenched one
Of his fingers out of joint?

PEER.

Who has filled you with such prate?

ÅSE.
[_Hotly._]

Cottar Kari heard the yells!

PEER.
[_Rubbing his elbow._]

Maybe, but ’twas I that howled.

ÅSE.

You?

PEER.

Yes, mother,—_I_ got beaten.

ÅSE.

What d’you say?

PEER.

He’s limber, he is.

ÅSE.

Who?

PEER.

Why Aslak, to be sure.

ÅSE.

Shame—and shame; I spit upon you!
Such a worthless sot as that,
Such a brawler, such a sodden
Dram-sponge to have beaten you!
[_Weeping again._
Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered;
But that this should come to pass
Is the worst disgrace of all.
What if he be ne’er so limber,
Need you therefore be a weakling?

PEER.

Though I hammer or am hammered,—
Still we must have lamentations.
[_Laughing_
Cheer up, mother——

ÅSE.

What? You’re lying
Now again?

PEER.

Yes, just this once.
Come now, wipe your tears away;—
[_Clenching his left hand._
See,—with this same pair of tongs,
Thus I held the smith bent double,
While my sledge-hammer right fist——

ÅSE.

Oh, you brawler! You will bring me
With your doings to the grave!

PEER.

No, you’re worth a better fate;
Better twenty thousand times!
Little, ugly, dear old mother,
You may safely trust my word,—
All the parish shall exalt you;
Only wait till I have done
Something—something really grand.

ÅSE.
[_Contemptuously._]

You!

PEER.

Who knows what may befall one?

ÅSE.

Could you but find so much sense,
One day, as to do the darning
Of your breeches for yourself!

PEER.
[_Hotly._]

I will be a king, a kaiser!

ÅSE.

Oh, God comfort me, he’s losing
All the little wits he’d left!

PEER.

Yes, I will! Just give me time!

ÅSE.

Give you time, you’ll be a prince,
So the saying goes, I think!

PEER.

You shall see!

ÅSE.

Oh, hold your tongue
You’re as mad as mad can be.—
Ah, and yet it’s true enough,—
Something might have come of you,
Had you not been steeped for ever
In your lies and trash and moonshine.
Hegstad’s girl was fond of you.
Easily you could have won her
Had you wooed her with a will——

PEER.

Could I?

ÅSE.

The old man’s too feeble
Not to give his child her way.
He is stiff-necked in a fashion;
But at last ’tis Ingrid rules;
And where she leads, step by step
Stumps the gaffer, grumbling, after.
[_Begins to cry again._
Ah, my Peer!—a golden girl—
Land entailed on her! Just think,
Had you set your mind upon it,
You’d be now a bridegroom brave,—
You that stand here grimed and tattered!

PEER.
[_Briskly._]

Come, we’ll go a-wooing then!

ÅSE.

Where?

PEER.

At Hegstad!

ÅSE.

Ah, poor boy;
Hegstad way is barred to wooers!

PEER.

How is that?

ÅSE.

Ah, woe is me!
Lost the moment, lost the luck——

PEER.

Speak!

ÅSE
[_Sobbing_.

While in the Wester-hills
You in air were riding reindeer,
Here Mads Moen’s[28] won the girl!

PEER.

What! That women’s-bugbear! He——

ÅSE.

Ay, she’s taking him for husband.

PEER.

Wait you here till I have harnessed
Horse and waggon——
[_Going._

ÅSE.

Spare your pains,
They are to be wed to-morrow——

PEER.

Pooh; this evening I’ll be there!

ÅSE.

Fie now! Would you crown our miseries
With a load of all men’s scorn?

PEER.

Never fear; ’twill all go well.
[_Shouting and laughing at the same time._
Mother, jump! We’ll spare the waggon;
’Twould take time to fetch the mare up——
[_Lifts her up in his arms._

ÅSE.

Put me down!

PEER.

No, in my arms
I will bear you to the wedding!
[_Wades out into the stream._

ÅSE.

Help! The Lord have mercy on us!
Peer! We’re drowning——

PEER.

I was born
For a braver death——

ÅSE.

Ay, true;
Sure enough you’ll hang at last!
[_Tugging at his hair._
Oh, you brute!

PEER.

Keep quiet now;
Here the bottom’s slippery-slimy.

ÅSE.

Ass!

PEER.

That’s right, don’t spare your tongue;
That does no one any harm.
Now it’s shelving up again——

ÅSE.

Don’t you drop me!

PEER.

Heisan! Hop!
Now we’ll play at Peer and reindeer;—
[_Curvetting._
I’m the reindeer, you are Peer!

ÅSE.

Oh, I’m going clean distraught!

PEER.

See now—we have reached the shallows;—
[_Wades ashore._
Come, a kiss now, for the reindeer;
Just to thank him for the ride——

ÅSE
[_Boxing his ears._]

This is how I thank him!

PEER.

Ow!
That’s a miserable fare!

ÅSE.

Put me down!

PEER.

First to the wedding.
Be my spokesman. You’re so clever;
Talk to him, the old curmudgeon;
Say Mads Moen’s good for nothing——

ÅSE.

Put me down!

PEER.

And tell him then
What a rare lad is Peer Gynt.

ÅSE.

Truly, you may swear to that!
Fine’s the character I’ll give you.
Through and through I’ll show you up;
All about your devil’s pranks
I will tell them straight and plain——

PEER.

Will you?

ÅSE.
[_Kicking with rage._]

I won’t stay my tongue
Till the old man sets his dog
At you, as you were a tramp!

PEER.

H’m; then I must go alone.

ÅSE.

Ay, but I’ll come after you!

PEER.

Mother dear, you haven’t strength——

ÅSE.

Strength? When I’m in such a rage,
I could crush the rocks to powder!
Hu! I’d make a meal of flints!
Put me down!

PEER.

You’ll promise then——

ÅSE.

Nothing! I’ll to Hegstad with you!
They shall know you, what you are!

PEER.

Then you’ll even have to stay here.

ÅSE.

Never! To the feast I’m coming!

PEER.

That you shan’t.

ÅSE.

What will you do?

PEER.

Perch you on the mill-house roof.

[_He puts her up on the roof. ÅSE screams._

ÅSE.

Lift me down!

PEER.

Yes, if you’ll listen—

ÅSE.

Rubbish!

PEER.

Dearest mother, pray——

ÅSE.
[_Throwing a sod of grass at him._]

Lift me down this moment, Peer!

PEER.

If I dared, be sure I would.
[_Coming nearer._
Now remember, sit quite still.
Do not sprawl and kick about;
Do not tug and tear the shingles,—
Else ’twill be the worse for you;
You might topple down.

ÅSE.

You beast!

PEER.

Do not kick!

ÅSE.

I’d have you blown,
Like a changeling, into space![29]

PEER.

Mother, fie!

ÅSE.

Bah!

PEER.

Rather give your
Blessing on my undertaking.
Will you? Eh?

ÅSE.

I’ll thrash you soundly,
Hulking fellow though you be!

PEER.

Well, good-bye then, mother dear!
Patience; I’ll be back ere long

[_Is going, but turns, holds up his finger warningly,
and says_:

Careful now, don’t kick and sprawl!
[_Goes._

ÅSE.

Peer!—God help me, now he’s off;
Reindeer-rider! Liar! Hei!
Will you listen!—No, he’s striding
O’er the meadow——! [_Shrieks._] Help. I’m dizzy!

_TWO OLD WOMEN, with sacks on their backs, come down the
path to the mill._

FIRST WOMAN.

Christ, who’s screaming?

ÅSE.

It is I!

SECOND WOMAN.

Åse! Well, you are exalted!

ÅSE.

This won’t be the end of it;—
Soon, God help me, I’ll be heaven high.

FIRST WOMAN.

Bless your passing!

ÅSE.

Fetch a ladder;
I must be down! That devil Peer——

SECOND WOMAN.

Peer! Your son?

ÅSE.

Now you can say
You have seen how he behaves.

FIRST WOMAN.

We’ll bear witness.

ÅSE.

Only help me;
Straight to Hegstad will I hasten——

SECOND WOMAN.

Is he there?

FIRST WOMAN.

You’ll be revenged, then;
Aslak Smith will be there too.

ÅSE.
[_Wringing her hands._]

Oh, God help me with my boy;
They will kill him ere they’re done!

FIRST WOMAN.

Oh, that lot has oft been talked of;
Comfort you: what must be must be!

SECOND WOMAN.

She is utterly demented.
[_Calls up the hill._
Eivind, Anders! Hei! Come here!

A MAN’S VOICE.

What’s amiss?

SECOND WOMAN.

Peer Gynt has perched his
Mother on the mill-house roof!

SCENE SECOND.

_A hillock, covered with bushes and heather. The highroad runs
behind it; a fence between._

_PEER GYNT comes along a footpath, goes quickly up to the fence,
stops, and looks out over the distant prospect._

PEER.

Yonder lies Hegstad. Soon I’ll have reached it.
[_Puts one leg over the fence; then hesitates._
Wonder if Ingrid’s alone in the house now?
[_Shades his eyes with his hand, and looks out._
No; to the farm guests are swarming like midges.—
H’m, to turn back now perhaps would be wisest.
[_Draws back his leg._
Still they must titter behind your back,
And whisper so that it burns right through you.

[_Moves a few steps away from the fence, and begins
absently plucking leaves._

Ah, if I’d only a good strong dram now.
Or if I could pass to and fro unseen.—
Or were I unknown.—Something proper and strong
Were the best thing of all, for the laughter don’t bite then.

[_Looks around suddenly as though afraid; then hides
among the bushes. Some WEDDING-GUESTS[30] pass by,
going downwards towards the farm._

A MAN.
[_In conversation as they pass._]

His father was drunken, his mother is weak.

A WOMAN.

Ay, then it’s no wonder the lad’s good for nought.

[_They pass on. Presently PEER GYNT comes forward, his
face flushed with shame. He peers after them._

PEER.
[_Softly._]

Was it me they were talking of?
[_With a forced shrug._
Oh, let them chatter.
After all, they can’t sneer the life out of my body.

[_Casts himself down upon the heathery slope; lies for
some time flat on his back with his hands under his
head, gazing up into the sky._

What a strange sort of cloud! It is just like a horse.
There’s a man on it too—and a saddle—and bridle.—
And after it comes an old crone on a broomstick.
[_Laughs quietly to himself._
It is mother. She’s scolding and screaming: You beast!
Hei you, Peer Gynt——
[_His eyes gradually close._
Ay, now she is frightened.—
Peer Gynt he rides first, and there follow him many.—
His steed it is gold-shod and crested with silver.
Himself he has gauntlets and sabre and scabbard.
His cloak it is long, and its lining is silken.
Full brave is the company riding behind him.
None of them, though, sits his charger so stoutly.
None of them glitters like him in the sunshine.—
Down by the fence stand the people in clusters,
Lifting their hats, and agape gazing upwards.
Women are curtseying. All the world knows him,
Kaiser Peer Gynt, and his thousands of henchmen.
Sixpenny pieces and glittering shillings
Over the roadway he scatters like pebbles.
Rich as a lord grows each man in the parish.
High o’er the ocean Peer Gynt goes a-riding.
Engelland’s Prince on the seashore awaits him;
There too await him all Engelland’s maidens.
Engelland’s nobles and Engelland’s Kaiser,
See him come riding and rise from their banquet.
Raising his crown, hear the Kaiser address him——

ASLAK THE SMITH.
[_To some other young men, passing along the road._]

Just look at Peer Gynt there, the drunken swine——!

PEER.
[_Starting half up._]

What, Kaiser——!

THE SMITH.
[_Leaning against the fence and grinning._]

Up with you, Peer, my lad.

PEER.

What the devil? The smith! What do you want here?

THE SMITH.
[_To the others._]

He hasn’t got over the Lundëspree yet

PEER.
[_Jumping up._]

You’d better be off!

THE SMITH.

I am going, yes.
But tell us, where have you dropped from, man?
You’ve been gone six weeks. Were you troll-taken, eh?

PEER.

I have been doing strange deeds, Aslak Smith!

THE SMITH.
[_Winking to the others._]

Let us hear them, Peer!

PEER.

They are nought to you.

THE SMITH.
[_After a pause._]

You’re going to Hegstad?

PEER.

No.

THE SMITH.

Time was
They said that the girl there was fond of you.

PEER.

You grimy crow——!

THE SMITH.
[_Falling back a little._]

Keep your temper, Peer
Though Ingrid has jilted you, others are left;—
Think—son of Jon Gynt! Come on to the feast;
You’ll find there both lambkins and well-seasoned widows——

PEER.

To hell——

THE SMITH.

You will surely find one that will have you.—
Good evening! I’ll give your respects to the bride.—

[_They go off, laughing and whispering._

PEER.
[_Looks after them a while, then makes a defiant
motion and turns half round_.]

For my part, may Ingrid of Hegstad go marry
Whoever she pleases. It’s all one to me.
[_Looks down at his clothes._
My breeches are torn. I am ragged and grim.—
If only I had something new to put on now.
[_Stamps on the ground._
If only I could, with a butcher-grip,
Tear out the scorn from their very vitals!

[_Looks round suddenly._

What was that? Who was it that tittered behind there?
H’m, I certainly thought—— No no, it was no one.—
I’ll go home to mother.

[_Begins to go upwards, but stops again and listens
towards Hegstad._

They’re playing a dance!

[_Gazes and listens; moves downwards step by step, his
eyes glisten; he rubs his hands down his thighs._

How the lasses do swarm! Six or eight to a man!
Oh, galloping death,—I must join in the frolic!—
But how about mother, perched up on the mill-house——

[_His eyes are drawn downwards again; he leaps and
laughs._

Hei, how the Halling[31] flies over the green!
Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out!
It gurgles and booms like a foss[32] o’er a scaur.
And then all that glittering bevy of girls!—
Yes, galloping death, I must join in the frolic!

[_Leaps over the fence and goes down the road._

SCENE THIRD.

_The farm-place at Hegstad. In the background, the
dwelling-house. A THRONG OF GUESTS. A lively dance in
progress on the green. THE FIDDLER sits on a table. THE
KITCHEN-MASTER[33] is standing in the doorway. COOKMAIDS
are going to and fro between the different buildings.
Groups of ELDERLY PEOPLE sit here and there, talking._

A WOMAN.
[_Joins a group that is seated on some logs of wood._]

The bride? Oh yes, she is crying a bit;
But that, you know, isn’t worth heeding.

THE KITCHEN-MASTER.
[_In another group._]

Now then, good folk, you must empty the barrel.

A MAN.

Thanks to you, friend; but you fill up too quick.

A LAD.
[_To the Fiddler, as he flies past, holding a Girl by
the hand._]

To it now, Guttorm, and don’t spare the fiddle-strings!

THE GIRL.

Scrape till it echoes out over the meadows!

OTHER GIRLS.
[_Standing in a ring round a lad who is dancing._]

That’s a rare fling!

A GIRL.

He has legs that can lift him!

THE LAD.
[_Dancing._]

The roof here is high,[34] and the walls wide asunder!

THE BRIDEGROOM.

[_Comes whimpering up to his FATHER, who is standing talking
with some other men, and twitches his jacket._]

Father, she will not; she is so proud!

HIS FATHER.

What won’t she do?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

She has locked herself in.

HIS FATHER.

Well, you must manage to find the key.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

I don’t know how.

HIS FATHER.

You’re a nincompoop!

[_Turns away to the others. The BRIDEGROOM drifts across
the yard._

A LAD.
[_Comes from behind the house._]

Wait a bit, girls! Things’ll soon be lively!
Here comes Peer Gynt.

THE SMITH.
[_Who has just come up._]

Who invited him?

THE KITCHEN-MASTER.

No one.

[_Goes towards the house._

THE SMITH.
[_To the girls._]

If he should speak to you, never take notice!

A GIRL.
[_To the others._]

No, we’ll pretend that we don’t even see him.

PEER GYNT.
[_Comes in heated and full of animation, stops right
in front of the group, and claps his hands._]

Which is the liveliest girl of the lot of you?

A GIRL.
[_As he approaches her._]

I am not.

ANOTHER.
[_Similarly._]

I am not.

A THIRD.

No; nor I either.

PEER.
[_To a fourth._]

You come along, then, for want of a better.

THE GIRL.

Haven’t got time.

PEER.
[_To a fifth._]

Well then, you!

THE GIRL.
[_Going._]

I’m for home.

PEER.

To-night? are you utterly out of your senses?[35]

THE SMITH.
[_After a moment, in a low voice._]

See, Peer, she’s taken a greybeard for partner.

PEER.
[_Turns sharply to an elderly man._]

Where are the unbespoke girls?

THE MAN.

Find them out.

[_Goes away from him._

_PEER GYNT has suddenly become subdued. He glances shyly and
furtively at the group. All look at him, but no one
speaks. He approaches other groups. Wherever he goes there
is silence; when he moves away they look after him and
smile._

PEER.
[_To himself._]

Mocking looks; needle-keen whispers[36] and smiles.
They grate like a sawblade under the file!

[_He slinks along close to the fence. SOLVEIG, leading
little HELGA by the hand, comes into the yard, along
with her PARENTS._

A MAN.
[_To another, close to PEER GYNT._]

Look, here are the new folk.

THE OTHER.

The ones from the west?

THE FIRST MAN.

Ay, the people from Hedal.

THE OTHER.

Ah yes, so they are.

PEER.
[_Places himself in the path of the new-comers, points
to SOLVEIG, and asks the FATHER_:]

May I dance with your daughter?

THE FATHER.
[_Quietly._]

You may so; but first
We must go to the farm-house and greet the good people.
[_They go in._

THE KITCHEN-MASTER.
[_To PEER GYNT, offering him drink._]

Since you are here, you’d best take a pull at the liquor.

PEER.
[_Looking fixedly after the new-comers._]

Thanks; I’m for dancing; I am not athirst.

[_The KITCHEN-MASTER goes away from him. PEER GYNT gazes
towards the house and laughs._

How fair! Did ever you see the like!
Looked down at her shoes and her snow-white apron—!
And then she held on to her mother’s skirt-folds,
And carried a psalm-book wrapped up in a kerchief—!
I must look at that girl.
[_Going into the house._

A LAD.
[_Coming out of the house, with several others._]

Are you off so soon, Peer,
From the dance?

PEER.

No, no.

THE LAD.

Then you’re heading amiss!

[_Takes hold of his shoulder to turn him round._

PEER.

Let me pass!

THE LAD.

I believe you’re afraid of the smith.

PEER.

I afraid!

THE LAD.

You remember what happened at Lundë?

[_They go off, laughing, to the dancing-green._

SOLVEIG.
[_In the doorway of the house._]

Are you not the lad that was wanting to dance?

PEER.

Of course it was me; don’t you know me again?

[_Takes her hand._

Come, then!

SOLVEIG.

We mustn’t go far, mother said.

PEER.

Mother said! Mother said! Were you born yesterday?[37]

SOLVEIG.

Now you’re laughing——!

PEER.

Why sure, you are almost a child.
Are you grown up?

SOLVEIG.

I read with the pastor last spring.[38]

PEER.

Tell me your name, lass, and then we’ll talk easier.

SOLVEIG.

My name is Solveig. And what are you called?

PEER.

Peer Gynt.

SOLVEIG.
[_Withdrawing her hand._]

Oh heaven!

PEER.

Why, what is it now?

SOLVEIG.

My garter is loose; I must tie it up tighter.

[_Goes away from him._

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Pulling at his MOTHER’S gown._]

Mother, she will not——!

HIS MOTHER.

She will not? What?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

She won’t, mother——

HIS MOTHER.

What?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Unlock the door.

HIS FATHER.
[_Angrily, below his breath._]

Oh, you’re only fit to be tied in a stall!

HIS MOTHER.

Don’t scold him. Poor dear, he’ll be all right yet.
[_They move away._

A LAD.
[_Coming with a whole crowd of others from
the dancing-green._]

Peer, have some brandy?

PEER.

No.

THE LAD.

Only a drain?

PEER.
[_Looking darkly at him._]

Got any?

THE LAD.

Well, I won’t say but I have.
[_Pulls out a pocket flask and drinks._
Ah! How it stings your throat!—Well?

PEER.

Let me try it.
[_Drinks._

ANOTHER LAD.

Now you must try mine as well, you know.

PEER.

No!

THE LAD.

Oh, what nonsense; now don’t be a fool.
Take a pull, Peer!

PEER.

Well then, give me a drop.
[_Drinks again._

A GIRL.
[_Half aloud._]

Come, let’s be going.

PEER.

Afraid of me, wench?

A THIRD LAD.

Who isn’t afraid of _you_?

A FOURTH.

At Lundë
You showed us clearly what tricks you could play.

PEER.

I can do more than that, when I once get started!

THE FIRST LAD.
[_Whispering._]

Now he’s forging ahead!

SEVERAL OTHERS.
[_Forming a circle around him._]

Tell away! Tell away!
What can you——?

PEER.

To-morrow!

OTHERS.

No, now, to-night!

A GIRL.

Can you conjure, Peer?

PEER.

I can call up the devil!

A MAN.

My grandam could do that before I was born!

PEER.

Liar! What _I_ can do, that no one else can.
I one day conjured him into a nut.
It was worm-bored, you see!

SEVERAL.
[_Laughing._]

Ay, that’s easily guessed!

PEER.

He cursed, and he wept, and he wanted to bribe me
With all sorts of things——

ONE OF THE CROWD.

But he had to go in?

PEER.

Of course. I stopped up the hole with a peg.
Hei! If you’d heard him rumbling and grumbling!

A GIRL.

Only think!

PEER.

It was just like a humble-bee buzzing.

THE GIRL.

Have you got him still in the nut?

PEER.

Why, no;
By this time that devil has flown on his way.
The grudge the smith bears me is all his doing.

A LAD.

Indeed?

PEER.

I went to the smithy, and begged
That he would crack that same nutshell for me.
He promised he would!—laid it down on his anvil;
But Aslak, you know, is so heavy of hand;—
For ever swinging that great sledge-hammer——

A VOICE FROM THE CROWD.

Did he kill the foul fiend?

PEER.

He laid on like a man.
But the devil showed fight, and tore off in a flame
Through the roof, and shattered the wall asunder.

SEVERAL VOICES.

And the smith——?

PEER.

Stood there with his hands all scorched.
And from that day onwards, we’ve never been friends.
[_General laughter._

SOME OF THE CROWD.

That yarn is a good one.

OTHERS.

About his best.

PEER.

Do you think I am making it up?

A MAN.

Oh no,
That you’re certainly not; for I’ve heard the most on’t
From my grandfather——

PEER.

Liar! It happened to me!

THE MAN.

Yes, like everything else.

PEER.
[_With a fling._]

I can ride, I can,
Clean through the air, on the bravest of steeds!
Oh, many’s the thing I can do, I tell you!

[_Another roar of laughter._

ONE OF THE GROUP.

Peer, ride through the air a bit!

MANY.

Do, dear Peer Gynt——!

PEER.

You may spare you the trouble of begging so hard.
I will ride like a hurricane over you all!
Every man in the parish shall fall at my feet!

AN ELDERLY MAN.

Now he is clean off his head.

ANOTHER.

The dolt!

A THIRD.

Braggart!

A FOURTH.

Liar!

PEER.
[_Threatening them._]

Ay, wait till you see!

A MAN.
[_Half drunk._]

Ay, wait; you’ll soon get your jacket dusted!

OTHERS.

Your back beaten tender! Your eyes painted blue!

[_The crowd disperses, the elder men angry, the younger
laughing and jeering._

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Close to PEER GYNT._]

Peer, is it true you can ride through the air?

PEER.
[_Shortly._]

It’s all true, Mads! You must know I’m a rare one!

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Then have you got the Invisible Cloak too?

PEER.

The Invisible Hat, do you mean? Yes, I have.

[_Turns away from him. SOLVEIG crosses the yard, leading
little HELGA._

PEER.
[_Goes towards them; his face lights up._]

Solveig! Oh, it is well you have come!
[_Takes hold of her wrist._
Now will I swing you round fast and fine!

SOLVEIG.

Loose me!

PEER.

Wherefore?

SOLVEIG.

You are so wild.

PEER.

The reindeer is wild, too, when summer is dawning.
Come then, lass; do not be wayward now!

SOLVEIG.
[_Withdrawing her arm._]

Dare not.

PEER.

Wherefore?

SOLVEIG.

No, you’ve been drinking.

[_Moves off with HELGA._

PEER.

Oh, if I had but my knife-blade driven
Clean through the heart of them,—one and all!

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Nudging him with his elbow._]

Peer, can’t you help me to get at the bride?

PEER.
[_Absently._]

The bride? Where is she?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

In the store-house.

PEER.

Ah.

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Oh, dear Peer Gynt, you must try at least!

PEER.

No, you must get on without my help.

[_A thought strikes him; he says softly but sharply._

Ingrid! The store-house!
[_Goes up to SOLVEIG._
Have you thought better on’t?
[_SOLVEIG tries to go; he blocks her path._
You’re ashamed to, because I’ve the look of a tramp.

SOLVEIG.
[_Hastily._]

No, that you haven’t; that’s not true at all!

PEER.

Yes! And I’ve taken a drop as well;
But that was to spite you, because you had hurt me.
Come then!

SOLVEIG.

Even if I wished to, I daren’t.

PEER.

Who are you frightened of?

SOLVEIG.

Father, most.

PEER.

Father? Ay, ay; he is one of the quiet ones!
One of the godly, eh?—Answer, come!

SOLVEIG.

What shall I say?

PEER.

Is your father a psalm-singer?[39]
And you and your mother as well, no doubt?
Come, will you speak?

SOLVEIG.

Let me go in peace.

PEER.

No!
[_In a low but sharp and threatening tone._
I can turn myself into a troll!
I’ll come to your bedside at midnight to-night.
If you should hear some one hissing and spitting,
You mustn’t imagine it’s only the cat.
It’s me, lass! I’ll drain out your blood in a cup,
And your little sister, I’ll eat her up;
Ay, you must know I’m a were-wolf at night;—
I’ll bite you all over the loins and the back——

[_Suddenly changes his tone, and entreats, as if in
dread_:

Dance with me, lass!

SOLVEIG.
[_Looking darkly at him._]

You were ugly then.

[_Goes into the house_

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Comes sidling up again._]

I’ll give you an ox if you’ll help me!

PEER.

Then come!

[_They go out behind the house. At the same moment a
crowd of men come forward from the dancing green;
most of them are drunk. Noise and hubbub. SOLVEIG,
HELGA, and their PARENTS appear among a number of
elderly people in the doorway._

THE KITCHEN-MASTER.
[_To the SMITH, who is the foremost of the crowd._]

Keep peace now!

THE SMITH.
[_Pulling off his jacket._]

No, we must fight it out here.[40]
Peer Gynt or I must be taught a lesson.[41]

SOME VOICES.

Ay, let them fight for it!

OTHERS.

No, only wrangle!

THE SMITH.

Fists must decide; for the case is past words.

SOLVEIG’S FATHER.

Control yourself, man!

HELGA.

Will they beat him, mother?

A LAD.

Let us rather taunt him with all his lies!

ANOTHER.

Kick him out of the company.

A THIRD.

Spit in his eyes.

A FOURTH.
[_To the SMITH._]

You’re not backing out, smith?

THE SMITH.
[_Flinging away his jacket._]

The jade shall be slaughtered!

SOLVEIG’S MOTHER.
[_To SOLVEIG._]

There, you can see how that windbag is thought of.

ÅSE.
[_Coming up with a stick in her hand._]

Is that son of mine here? Now he’s in for a drubbing!
Oh! how heartily I will dang him!

THE SMITH.
[_Rolling up his shirt-sleeves._]

That switch is too light for a carcase like his.

SOME OF THE CROWD.

The smith will dang him!

OTHERS.

Bang him!

THE SMITH.
[_Spits on his hands and nods to Åse._]

Hang him!

ÅSE.

What? Hang my Peer? Ay, just try if you dare;—
Åse and I,[42] we have teeth and claws!—
Where is he? [_Calls across the yard._] Peer!

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Comes running up._]

Oh, God’s death on the cross!
Come father, come mother, and——!

HIS FATHER.

What is the matter?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

Just fancy, Peer Gynt——!

ÅSE.
[_Screams_.]

Have you taken his life?

THE BRIDEGROOM.

No, but Peer Gynt——! Look, there on the hillside——!

THE CROWD.

With the bride.

ÅSE.
[_Lets her stick sink._]

Oh, the beast!

THE SMITH.
[_As if thunderstruck._]

Where the slope rises sheerest
He’s clambering upwards, by God, like a goat!

THE BRIDEGROOM.
[_Crying._]

He’s shouldered her, mother, as I might a pig!

ÅSE.
[_Shaking her fist up at him._]

Would God you might fall, and——!
[_Screams out in terror._
Take care of your footing!

THE HEGSTAD FARMER.
[_Comes in, bare-headed and white with rage._]

I’ll have his life for this bride-rape yet!

ÅSE.

Oh no, God punish me if I let you!

-----

Footnotes:

-----

Footnote 22:

Pronounce _Yendeen_.

Footnote 23:

This is the poet’s own explanation of this difficult passage.
“Hvirvlens vætter,” he writes, is equivalent to “Svimmelhedens
ånder”—_i.e._, spirits of dizziness or vertigo.

Footnote 24:

See Appendix.

Footnote 25:

Literally “bushels.”

Footnote 26:

An ecclesiastical dignitary—something equivalent to a rural
dean.

Footnote 27:

“Jon med Skjæppen”—literally, “John with the Bushel”—a
nickname given him in his days of prosperity, in allusion to
his supposed bushels of money.

Footnote 28:

Pronounce _Maass-Moo-en_.

Footnote 29:

It is believed in some parts of Norway that “changelings”
(elf-children left in the stead of those taken away by the
fairies) can, by certain spells, be made to fly away up the
chimney.

Footnote 30:

“Sendingsfolk,” literally, “folks with presents.” When the
Norwegian peasants are bidden to a wedding-feast, they bring
with them presents of eatables.

Footnote 31:

A somewhat violent peasant dance.

Footnote 32:

Foss (in the North of England “force”)—a waterfall.

Footnote 33:

A sort of master of ceremonies.

Footnote 34:

To kick the rafters is considered a great feat in the
Halling-dance. The boy means that, in the open air, his leaps
are not limited even by the rafters.

Footnote 35:

A marriage party among the peasants will often last several
days.

Footnote 36:

Literally, “thoughts.”

Footnote 37:

Literally, “last year.”

Footnote 38:

“To read with the pastor,” the preliminary to confirmation, is
currently used as synonymous with “to be confirmed.”

Footnote 39:

Literally, “A reader.”

Footnote 40:

Literally, “Here shall judgment be called for.”

Footnote 41:

Literally, “Must be bent to the hillside,” made to bite the
dust—but not in the sense of being killed.

Footnote 42:

A peasant idiom.

-----

ACT SECOND

SCENE FIRST.

_A narrow path, high up in the mountains. Early morning._

_PEER GYNT comes hastily and sullenly along the path. INGRID,
still wearing some of her bridal ornaments, is trying to
hold him back._

PEER.

Get you from me!

INGRID.
[_Weeping._]

After this, Peer?
Whither?

PEER.

Where you will for me.

INGRID.
[_Wringing her hands._]

Oh, what falsehood!

PEER.

Useless railing.
Each alone must go his way.

INGRID.

Sin—and sin again unites us!

PEER.

Devil take all recollections!
Devil take the tribe of women—
All but one——!

INGRID.

Who is that one, pray?

PEER.

’Tis not you.

INGRID.

Who is it then?

PEER.

Go! Go thither whence you came!
Off! To your father!

INGRID.

Dearest, sweetest——

PEER.

Peace!

INGRID.

You cannot mean it, surely,
What you’re saying?

PEER.

Can and do.

INGRID.

First to lure—and then forsake me!

PEER.

And what terms have you to offer?

INGRID.

Hegstad Farm, and more besides.

PEER.

Is your psalm-book in your kerchief?
Where’s the gold-mane on your shoulders?
Do you glance adown your apron?
Do you hold your mother’s skirt-fold?
Speak!

INGRID.

No, but——

PEER.

Went you to the Pastor[43]
This last spring-tide?

INGRID.

No, but Peer——

PEER.

Is there shyness in your glances?
When I beg, can you deny?

INGRID.

Heaven! I think his wits are going.

PEER.

Does your presence sanctify?[44]
Speak!

INGRID.

No, but——

PEER.

What’s all the rest then?

[_Going._

INGRID.
[_Blocking his way._]

Know you it will cost your neck
Should you fail me?

PEER.

What do I care?

INGRID.

You may win both wealth and honour
If you take me——

PEER.

Can’t afford.

INGRID.
[_Bursting into tears._]

Oh, you lured me——!

PEER.

You were willing.

INGRID.

I was desperate!

PEER.

Frantic I.

INGRID.
[_Threatening._]

Dearly shall you pay for this!

PEER.

Dearest payment cheap I’ll reckon.

INGRID.

Is your purpose set?

PEER.

Like flint.

INGRID.

Good! we’ll see, then, who’s the winner!
[_Goes downwards._

PEER.
[_Stands silent a moment, then cries_:]

Devil take all recollections!
Devil take the tribe of women!

INGRID.
[_Turning her head, and calling mockingly upwards_:]

All but _one_!

PEER.

Yes, all but _one_.

[_They go their several ways._

SCENE SECOND.

_Near a mountain tarn; the ground is soft and marshy round
about. A storm is gathering._

_ÅSE enters, calling and gazing around her despairingly, in
every direction. SOLVEIG has difficulty in keeping up with
her. SOLVEIG’S FATHER and MOTHER, with HELGA, are some way
behind._

ÅSE.
[_Tossing about her arms, and tearing her hair._]

All things are against me with wrathful might!
Heaven, and the waters, and the grisly mountains!
Fog-scuds from heaven roll down to bewilder him!
The treacherous waters are lurking to murder him!
The mountains would crush him with landslip and rift!—
And the people too! They’re out after his life!
God knows they shan’t have it! I can’t bear to lose him!
Oh, the oaf! to think that the fiend should tempt him!
[_Turning to SOLVEIG._
Now isn’t it clean unbelievable this?
He, that did nought but romance and tell lies;—
He, whose sole strength was the strength of his jaw;
He, that did never a stroke of true work;—
He——! Oh, a body could both cry and laugh!—
Oh, we clung closely in sorrow and need.
Ay, you must know that my husband, he drank,
Loafed round the parish to roister and prate,
Wasted and trampled our gear under foot.
And meanwhile at home there sat Peerkin and I—
The best we could do was to try to forget;
For ever I’ve found it so hard to bear up.
It’s a terrible thing to look fate in the eyes;
And of course one is glad to be quit of one’s cares,
And try all one can to hold thinking aloof.
Some take to brandy, and others to lies;
And we—why we took to fairy-tales
Of princes and trolls and of all sorts of beasts;
And of bride-rapes as well. Ah, but who could have dreamt
That those devil’s yarns would have stuck in his head?
[_In a fresh access of terror._
Hu! What a scream! It’s the nixie or droug![45]
Peer! Peer!—Up there on that hillock——!

[_She runs to the top of a little rise, and looks out
over the tarn. SOLVEIG’S FATHER and MOTHER come up._

ÅSE.

Not a sign to be seen!

THE FATHER.
[_Quietly._]

It is worst for him!

ÅSE.
[_Weeping._]

Oh, my Peer! Oh, my own lost lamb!

THE FATHER.
[_Nods mildly._]

You may well say lost.

ÅSE.

Oh no, don’t talk like that!
He is so clever. There’s no one like him.

THE FATHER.

You foolish woman!

ÅSE.

Oh ay; oh ay;
Foolish I am, but the boy’s all right!

THE FATHER.
[_Still softly and with mild eyes._]

His heart is hardened, his soul is lost.

ÅSE.
[_In terror._]

No, no, he can’t be so hard, our Lord!

THE FATHER.

Do you think he can sigh for his debt of sin?

ÅSE.
[_Eagerly._]

No, but he can ride through the air on a buck, though!

THE MOTHER.

Christ, are you mad?

THE FATHER.

Why, what do you mean?

ÅSE.

Never a deed is too great for him.
You shall see, if only he lives so long——

THE FATHER.

Best if you saw him on the gallows hanging.

ÅSE.
[_Shrieks._]

Oh, cross of Christ!

THE FATHER.

In the hangman’s hands,
It may be his heart would be turned to repentance.

ÅSE.
[_Bewildered._]

Oh, you’ll soon talk me out of my senses!
We must find him!

THE FATHER.

To rescue his soul.

ÅSE.

And his body!
If he’s stuck in the swamp, we must drag him out;
If he’s taken by trolls, we must ring the bells for him.

THE FATHER.

H’m!—Here’s a sheep path——

ÅSE.

The Lord will repay you
Your guidance and help!

THE FATHER.

It’s a Christian’s duty.

ÅSE.

Then the others, fie! they are heathens all;
There was never a one that would go with us——

THE FATHER.

They knew him too well.

ÅSE.

He was too good for them!
[_Wrings her hands._
And to think—and to think that his life is at stake!

THE FATHER.

Here are tracks of a man.

ÅSE.

Then it’s here we must search!

THE FATHER.

We’ll scatter around on this side of our sæter.[46]
[_He and his wife go on ahead._

SOLVEIG.
[_To ÅSE._]

Say on; tell me more.

ÅSE.
[_Drying her eyes._]

Of my son, you mean?

SOLVEIG.

Yes;—
Tell everything!

ÅSE.
[_Smiles and tosses her head._]

Everything?—Soon you’d be tired!

SOLVEIG.

Sooner by far will you tire of the telling
Than I of the hearing.

SCENE THIRD.

_Low, treeless heights, close under the mountain moorlands;
peaks in the distance. The shadows are long; it is late in
the day._

_PEER GYNT comes running at full speed, and stops short on the
hillside._

PEER.

The parish is all at my heels in a pack!
Everyman of them armed or with gun or with club.
Foremost I hear the old Hegstad-churl howling.—
Now it’s noised far and wide that Peer Gynt is abroad!
It is different, this, from a bout with a smith!
This is life! Every limb grows as strong as a bear’s.
[_Strikes out with his arms and leaps in the air._
To crush, overturn, stem the rush of the foss![47]
To strike! Wrench the fir-tree right up by the root!
This is life! This both hardens and lifts one high!
To hell then with all of the savourless lies!

THREE SÆTER GIRLS.[48]
[_Rush across the hillside, screaming and singing._]

Trond of the Valfjeld![49] Bård and Kårë!
Troll-pack! To-night would you sleep in our arms?

PEER.

To whom do you call?

THE GIRLS.

To the trolls! to the trolls!

FIRST GIRL.

Trond, come with kindness!

SECOND GIRL.

Bård, come with force!

THIRD GIRL.

The cots in the sæter are all standing empty!

FIRST GIRL.

Force is kindness!

SECOND GIRL.

And kindness is force!

THIRD GIRL.

If lads are a wanting, one plays with the trolls!

PEER.

Why, where are the lads, then?

ALL THREE.
[_With a horse-laugh._]

They cannot come hither!

FIRST GIRL.

Mine called me his sweetheart and called me his darling.
Now he has married a grey-headed widow.

SECOND GIRL.

Mine met a gipsy-wench north on the upland.
Now they are tramping the country together.

THIRD GIRL.

Mine put an end to our bastard brat.
Now his head’s grinning aloft on a stake.

ALL THREE.

Trond of the Valfjeld! Bård and Kårë!
Troll-pack! To-night would you sleep in our arms!

PEER.
[_Stands, with a sudden leap, in the midst of them._]

I’m a three-headed troll, and the boy for three girls!

THE GIRLS.

Are you such a lad, eh?

PEER.

You shall judge for yourselves!

FIRST GIRL.

To the hut! To the hut!

SECOND GIRL.

We have mead!

PEER.

Let it flow!

THIRD GIRL.

No cot shall stand empty this Saturday night!

SECOND GIRL.
[_Kissing him._]

He sparkles and glisters like white-heated iron.

THIRD GIRL.
[_Doing likewise._]

Like a baby’s eyes from the blackest tarn.

PEER.
[_Dancing in the midst of them._]

Heavy of heart and wanton of mind.
The eyes full of laughter, the throat of tears!

THE GIRLS.
[_Making mocking gestures towards the mountain-tops,
screaming and singing._]

Trond of the Valfjeld! Bård and Kårë!
Troll-pack!—To-night who shall sleep in our arms?

[_They dance away over the heights, with PEER GYNT in
their midst._

SCENE FOURTH.

_Among the Rondë mountains. Sunset. Shining snow-peaks all
around._

_PEER GYNT enters, dizzy and bewildered._

PEER.

Tower over tower arises!
Hei, what a glittering gate!
Stand! Will you stand! It’s drifting
Further and further away!
High on the vane the wind-cock
Arches his wings for flight;—
Blue spread the rifts and bluer,
Locked is the fell and barred.—
What are those trunks and tree-roots,
That grow from the ridge’s clefts?
They are warriors heron-footed!
Now they, too, are fading away.
A shimmering like rainbow-streamers
Goes shooting through eyes and brain.
What is it, that far-off chiming?
What’s weighing my eyebrows down?
Hu, how my forehead’s throbbing—
A tightening red-hot ring——!
I cannot think who the devil
as bound it around my head!
[_Sinks down._
Flight o’er the Edge of Gendin—
Stuff and accursed lies!
Up o’er the steepest hill-wall
With the bride,—and a whole day drunk;
Hunted by hawks and falcons,
Threatened by trolls and such,
Sporting with crazy wenches:—
and accursed stuff!
[_Gazes long upwards._
Yonder sail two brown eagles.
Southward the wild geese fly.
And here I must splash and stumble
In quagmire and filth knee-deep!
[_Springs up._
I’ll fly too! I will wash myself clean in
The bath of the keenest winds!
I’ll fly high! I will plunge myself fair in
The glorious christening-font!
I will soar far over the sæter;
I will ride myself pure of soul;
I will forth o’er the salt sea waters,
And high over Engelland’s prince!
Ay, gaze as ye may, young maidens;
My ride is for none of you;
You’re wasting your time in waiting—!
Yet maybe I’ll swoop down, too.—
What has come of the two brown eagles—?
They’ve vanished, the devil knows where!—
There’s the peak of a gable rising;
It’s soaring on every hand;
It’s growing from out the ruins;—
See, the gateway is standing wide!
Ha-ha, yonder house, I know it;
It’s grandfather’s new-built farm!
Gone are the clouts from the windows;
The crazy old fence is gone.
The lights gleam from every casement;
There’s a feast in the hall to-night.
There, that was the provost clinking
The back of his knife on his glass;—
There’s the captain flinging his bottle,
And shivering the mirror to bits.—
Let them waste; let it all be squandered!
Peace, mother; what need we care!
’Tis the rich Jon Gynt gives the banquet;
Hurrah for the race of Gynt!
What’s all this bustle and hubbub?
Why do they shout and bawl?
The captain is calling the son in;—
Oh, the provost would drink my health.
In then, Peer Gynt, to the judgment;
It rings forth in song and shout:
Peer Gynt, thou art come of great things,
And great things shall come of thee!

[_Leaps forward, but runs his head against a rock,
falls, and remains stretched on the ground._

SCENE FIFTH.

_A hillside, wooded with great soughing trees. Stars are
gleaming through the leaves; birds are singing in the
tree-tops._

_A GREEN-CLAD WOMAN is crossing the hillside; PEER GYNT follows
her, with all sorts of lover-like antics._

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.
[_Stops and turns round._]

Is it true?

PEER.
[_Drawing his finger across his throat._]

As true as my name is Peer;—
As true as that you are a lovely woman!
Will you have me? You’ll see what a fine man I’ll be;
You shall neither tread the loom nor turn the spindle.
You shall eat all you want, till you’re ready to burst.
I never will drag you about by the hair——

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Nor beat me!

PEER.

No, can you think I would!
We kings’ sons never beat women and such.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

You’re a king’s son?

PEER.

Yes.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

I’m the Dovrë-King’s daughter.

PEER.

Are you! See there, now, how well that fits in!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Deep in the Rondë has father his palace.

PEER.

My mother’s is bigger, or much I’m mistaken.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Do you know my father? His name is King Brosë.[50]

PEER.

Do you know my mother? Her name is Queen Åsë.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

When my father is angry the mountains are riven.

PEER.

They reel when my mother by chance falls a-scolding.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

My father can kick e’en the loftiest roof-tree.[51]

PEER.

My mother can ride through the rapidest river.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Have you other garments besides those rags?

PEER.

Ho, you should just see my Sunday clothes!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

My week-day gown is of gold and silk.

PEER.

It looks to me liker tow and straws.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Ay, there is one thing you must remember:—
This is the Rondë-folk’s use and wont:
All our possessions have two-fold form.
When shall you come to my father’s hall,
It well may chance that you’re on the point
Of thinking you stand in a dismal moraine.

PEER.

Well now, with us it’s precisely the same.
Our gold will seem to you litter and trash!
And you’ll think, mayhap, every glittering pane
Is nought but a bunch of old stockings and clouts.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.

Black it seems white, and ugly seems fair.

PEER.

Big it seems little, and dirty seems clean.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.
[_Falling on his neck._]

Ay, Peer, now I see that we fit, you and I!

PEER.

Like the leg and the trouser, the hair and the comb.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.
[_Calls away over the hillside._]

Bridal-steed! Bridal-steed! Come, bridal-steed mine!

[_A gigantic pig comes running in with a rope’s end for
a bridle and an old sack for a saddle. PEER GYNT
vaults on its back, and seats the GREEN-CLAD ONE in
front of him._

PEER.

Hark-away! Through the Rondë-gate gallop we in!
Gee-up, gee-up, my courser fine!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE.
[_Tenderly._]

Ah, but lately I wandered and moped and pined—
One never can tell what may happen to one!

PEER.
[_Thrashing the pig and trotting off._]

You may know the great by their riding gear!

SCENE SIXTH.

_The Royal Hall of the King of the Dovrë-Trolls. A great
assembly of TROLL-COURTIERS, GNOMES, and BROWNIES. THE OLD
MAN OF THE DOVRË sits on the throne, crowned, and with his
sceptre in his hand. His CHILDREN and NEAREST RELATIONS
are ranged on both sides. PEER GYNT stands before him.
Violent commotion in the hall._

THE TROLL-COURTIERS.

Slay him! a Christian-man’s son has deluded
The Dovrë-King’s loveliest maid!

A TROLL-IMP.

May I hack him on the fingers?

ANOTHER.

May I tug him by the hair?

A TROLL-MAIDEN.

Hu, hei, let me bite him in the haunches!

A TROLL-WITCH.
[_With a ladle._]

Shall he be boiled into broth and bree?

ANOTHER TROLL-WITCH.
[_With a chopper._]