ACT FIRST.

ACT FIRST.SCENE FIRST.A wooded hillside nearÅse’sfarm. 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 mountainsMonthlong 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 believeAll 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-crustAfter 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 bouldersI 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-bladeIn his neck, behind his skull—When, behold! the brute screamed wildly.Sprang upon his feet like lightning,With a back-cast of his headFrom 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 flewRight along the Gendin-Edge!Åse.[Involuntarily.]Jesus save us——!Peer.Have you everChanced to see the Gendin-Edge?Nigh on four miles long it stretchesSharp 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 sevenHundred fathoms deep below you.Right along the Edge we twoClove 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 sailingIn the wide and dizzy voidHalf-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 hiddenAt 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![Åsetotters, and catches at the trunk of a tree.Peer Gyntcontinues: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 reflectionIn the glass-smooth mountain tarn,Shooting up towards the surfaceWith the same wild rush of speedWherewith 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 waySomehow 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 ofWhen one thinks what dreadful thingsMight 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 itWhen 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’ backsAnd with all the other horrors,Lying right and lying left,Filling me with speechless dread,Till at last I recognised notWhat of old I’d heard and known!Peer.If another talked like thatI’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 remainingFrom your grandsire’s days of glory?Where are now the sacks[25]of coinLeft 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 wastedAt the famous winter-banquet,When each guest sent glass and bottleShivering ’gainst the wall behind him?Peer.Where’s the snow of yester-year?Åse.Silence, boy, before your mother!See the farmhouse! Every secondWindow-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 headpieceMany a Prince down there might envy;Till the cob your father gave him,With a sledge to boot, in thanksFor 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 pillarFor 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 profitYou have been to me, you scamp!Lounging by the hearth at home,Grubbing in the charcoal embers;Or, round all the country, frighteningGirls 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 denyThat you were the foremost brawlerIn the mighty battle royalFought the other day at Lundë;When you raged like mongrels mad?Who was it but you that brokeBlacksmith Aslak’s arm for him,—Or at any rate that wrenched oneOf 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,—Igot 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 soddenDram-sponge to have beaten you![Weeping again.Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered;But that this should come to passIs 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.[LaughingCheer up, mother——Åse.What? You’re lyingNow 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 meWith 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 doneSomething—something reallygrand.grand.Åse.[Contemptuously.]You!Peer.Who knows what may befallone?one?Åse.Could you but find so much sense,One day, as to do the darningOf your breeches for yourself!Peer.[Hotly.]I will be a king, a kaiser!Åse.Oh, God comfort me, he’s losingAll 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 tongueYou’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 everIn your lies and trash and moonshine.Hegstad’s girl was fond of you.Easily you could have won herHad you wooed her with a will——Peer.Could I?Åse.The old man’s too feebleNot 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 stepStumps 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-hillsYou 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 harnessedHorse 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 miseriesWith 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 armsI 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 bornFor 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!

ACT FIRST.

A wooded hillside nearÅse’sfarm. 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.]

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.

See, you dare not!

It’s a lie from first to last.

Peer.[Stopping.]

Peer.

[Stopping.]

It is true—each blessed word!

Åse.[Confronting him.]

Åse.

[Confronting him.]

Don’t you blush before your mother?First you skulk among the mountainsMonthlong 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 believeAll the wildest hunters’-lies!—Well, where did you find the buck, then?

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.]

Åse.

[Laughing scornfully.]

Ah! Indeed.

Peer.

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

Keen the blast towards me swept;

Hidden by an alder-clump,

He was scraping in the snow-crust

After lichen——

Åse.[As before.]

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 bouldersI 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.

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-bladeIn his neck, behind his skull—When, behold! the brute screamed wildly.Sprang upon his feet like lightning,With a back-cast of his headFrom 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 flewRight along the Gendin-Edge!

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.]

Åse.

[Involuntarily.]

Jesus save us——!

Peer.

Have you everChanced to see the Gendin-Edge?Nigh on four miles long it stretchesSharp 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 sevenHundred fathoms deep below you.Right along the Edge we twoClove 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 sailingIn the wide and dizzy voidHalf-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!

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.]

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 hiddenAt 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!

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!

[Åsetotters, and catches at the trunk of a tree.Peer Gyntcontinues:

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 reflectionIn the glass-smooth mountain tarn,Shooting up towards the surfaceWith the same wild rush of speedWherewith we were shooting downwards.

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.]

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 waySomehow to the northern shore;Swam the buck, I clung behind him:—I ran homewards——

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 ofWhen one thinks what dreadful thingsMight have come of such a leap——!

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 itWhen I was a girl of twenty.Gudbrand Glesnë[24]it befell,Never you, you——

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.

Me as well.

Such a thing can happen twice.

Åse.[Exasperated.]

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’ backsAnd with all the other horrors,Lying right and lying left,Filling me with speechless dread,Till at last I recognised notWhat of old I’d heard and known!

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 thatI’d half kill him for his pains.

If another talked like that

I’d half kill him for his pains.

Åse.[Weeping.]

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!

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——

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 remainingFrom your grandsire’s days of glory?Where are now the sacks[25]of coinLeft 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 wastedAt the famous winter-banquet,When each guest sent glass and bottleShivering ’gainst the wall behind him?

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 secondWindow-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——

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!

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 headpieceMany a Prince down there might envy;Till the cob your father gave him,With a sledge to boot, in thanksFor 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 pillarFor 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 profitYou have been to me, you scamp!Lounging by the hearth at home,Grubbing in the charcoal embers;Or, round all the country, frighteningGirls away from merry-makings—Shaming me in all directions,Fighting with the worst rapscallions——

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.]

Peer.

[Turning away from her.]

Let me be.

Åse.[Following him.]

Åse.

[Following him.]

Can you denyThat you were the foremost brawlerIn the mighty battle royalFought the other day at Lundë;When you raged like mongrels mad?Who was it but you that brokeBlacksmith Aslak’s arm for him,—Or at any rate that wrenched oneOf his fingers out of joint?

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.]

Åse.

[Hotly.]

Cottar Kari heard the yells!

Peer.[Rubbing his elbow.]

Peer.

[Rubbing his elbow.]

Maybe, but ’twas I that howled.

Åse.

You?

Peer.

Yes, mother,—Igot 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 soddenDram-sponge to have beaten you![Weeping again.Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered;But that this should come to passIs the worst disgrace of all.What if he be ne’er so limber,Need you therefore be a weakling?

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.[LaughingCheer up, mother——

Though I hammer or am hammered,—

Still we must have lamentations.

[Laughing

Cheer up, mother——

Åse.

What? You’re lyingNow again?

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——

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 meWith your doings to the grave!

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 doneSomething—something reallygrand.grand.

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 reallygrand.grand.

Åse.[Contemptuously.]

Åse.

[Contemptuously.]

You!

Peer.

Who knows what may befallone?one?

Åse.

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

Could you but find so much sense,

One day, as to do the darning

Of your breeches for yourself!

Peer.[Hotly.]

Peer.

[Hotly.]

I will be a king, a kaiser!

Åse.

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

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!

Give you time, you’ll be a prince,

So the saying goes, I think!

Peer.

You shall see!

Åse.

Oh, hold your tongueYou’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 everIn your lies and trash and moonshine.Hegstad’s girl was fond of you.Easily you could have won herHad you wooed her with a will——

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 feebleNot 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 stepStumps 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!

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.]

Peer.

[Briskly.]

Come, we’ll go a-wooing then!

Åse.

Where?

Peer.

At Hegstad!

Åse.

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

Ah, poor boy;

Hegstad way is barred to wooers!

Peer.

How is that?

Åse.

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

Ah, woe is me!

Lost the moment, lost the luck——

Peer.

Speak!

Åse[Sobbing.

Åse

[Sobbing.

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

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 harnessedHorse and waggon——[Going.

Wait you here till I have harnessed

Horse and waggon——

[Going.

Åse.

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

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 miseriesWith a load of all men’s scorn?

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.

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 armsI will bear you to the wedding![Wades out into the stream.

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——

Help! The Lord have mercy on us!

Peer! We’re drowning——

Peer.

I was bornFor a braver death——

I was born

For a braver death——

Åse.

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

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.

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——

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!

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——

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.]

Åse

[Boxing his ears.]

This is how I thank him!

Peer.

Ow!That’s a miserable fare!

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——

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!

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