ACT FIRST
SCENE FIRST
[A wooded hillside near ÅSE’s farm. A river rushes
down the slope. On the further 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.
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, scaurs,
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.
Ice–floes on the shores broke crashing,
but no murmur reached my ears.
Only sprites of dizziness 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;
buck, he swam, 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 Glesne 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 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 dropping,
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, captain, all the rest,
dropped in daily, ate and drank,
swilling, till they well–nigh burst.
But ’tis need that tests one’s neighbour.
Still it grew and empty here
from the day that “Gold–bag Jon”
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 Lunde,
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
Would you’d get so far in 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 wits that he had 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, I must sigh!
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 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
There see; now we’ve 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
Hm; 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!
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 I will 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 stretch of country
below.]
Peer
There it 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 gnats.—
Hm, 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 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 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 Lunde–spree 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 widows well on—
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?
Hm, 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 flies over the green!
Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out!
It gurgles and booms like a foss 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 MASTER–COOK 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 Master–cook [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
fiddlestrings!
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, 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 Master–cook
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?
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 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 Master–cook [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 MASTER–COOK 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 Lunde?
[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?
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.
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 [Drinks.]
Let me try it.
Another Lad
Now you must try mine as well, you know.
Peer
No!
The Lad
Oh, 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 Lunde
you showed us clearly what tricks you could play.
Peer
I can do more than that, when once I get started!
The First Lad [whispering]
Now he’s getting into swing!
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 would now, 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?
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 werewolf 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, Solveig!
Solveig [looking
darkly at him]
Then you were grim.
[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 up 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 Master–cook [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.
Peer Gynt or I must be taught a lesson.
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 tease 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 carcass like his.
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, 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 they 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!
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
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?
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 keep thought far away.
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!
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
Hm!—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 wasn’t 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 saeter.
[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!
Every man 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!
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 Saeter Girls [rush across the hillside, screaming and singing]
To crushTrond of the Valfjeld! Bard and Kare!
Troll–pack! To–night would you sleep in our arms?
Peer
To whom are you calling?
The Girls
To the trolls! to the trolls!
First Girl
Trond, come with kindness!
Second Girl
Bard, come with force!
Third Girl
The cots in the saeter are all standing empty!
First Girl
Force is kindness!
Second Girl
And kindness is force!
Third Girl
If lads are awanting, 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! Bard and Kare!
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]
Heavy of Trond of the Valfjeld! Bard and Kare!
Troll–pack!—To–night will you sleep in our arms?
[They dance away over the heights, with PEER GYNT
in their midst.]
SCENE FOURTH
[Among the Ronde mountains. Sunset. Shining
snowpeaks 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 cock stands
lifting 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
has 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:—
lies 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 saeter;
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 Dovre–King’s daughter.
Peer
Are you? See there, now, how well that fits in!
The Green–clad One
Deep in the Ronde 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 Brose.
Peer
Do you know my mother? Her name is Queen Åse.
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.
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 Ronde–folk’s use and wont:
all our possessions have twofold form.
When you shall 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! 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 Ronde–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 Dovre–Trolls. A
great assembly of TROLL–COURTIERS, GNOMES, and BROWNIES. THE OLD MAN OF
THE DOVRE 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 Dovre–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]
Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan?
The Old Man Of The Dovre
Ice to your blood, friends!
[Beckons his counsellors nearer around him.]
Don’t let us talk big.
We’ve been drifting astern in these latter years;
we can’t tell what’s going to stand or to fall,
and there’s no sense in turning recruits away.
Besides the lad’s body has scarce a blemish,
and he’s strongly–built too, if I see aright.
It’s true, he has only a single head;
but my daughter, too, has no more than one.
Three–headed trolls are going clean out of fashion;
one hardly sees even a two–header now,
and even those heads are but so–so ones.
[To PEER GYNT.]
It’s my daughter, then, you demand of me?
Peer
Your daughter and the realm to her dowry, yes.
The Old Man
You shall have the half while I’m still alive,
and the other half when I come to die.
Peer
I’m content with that.
The Old Man
Ay, but stop, my lad;—
you also have some undertakings to give.
If you break even one, the whole pact’s at an end,
and you’ll never get away from here living.
First of all you must swear that you’ll never give heed
to aught that lies outside Ronde–hills’ bounds;
day you must shun, and deeds, and each sunlit spot.
Peer
Only call me king, and that’s easy to keep.
The Old Man
And next—now for putting your wits to the test.
[Draws himself up in his seat.]
The Oldest Troll–courtier [to PEER GYNT]
Let us see if you have a wisdom–tooth
that can crack the Dovre–King’s riddle–nut!
The Old Man
What difference is there ’twixt trolls and men?
Peer
No difference at all, as it seems to me.
Big trolls would roast you and small trolls would claw you;—
with us it were likewise, if only they dared.
The Old Man
True enough; in that and in more we’re alike.
Yet morning is morning, and even is even,
and there is a difference all the same.—
Now let me tell you wherein it lies:
Out yonder, under the shining vault,
among men the saying goes: “Man, be thyself!”
At home here with us, ’mid the tribe of the trolls,
the saying goes: “Troll, to thyself be—enough!”
The Troll–courtier [to
PEER GYNT]
Can you fathom the depth?
Peer
It strikes me as misty.
The Old Man
My son, that “Enough,” that most potent and
sundering
word, must be graven upon your escutcheon.
Peer [scratching his
head]
Well, but—
The Old Man
It must, if you here would be master!
Peer
Oh well, let it pass; after all, it’s no worse—
The Old Man
And next you must learn to appreciate
our homely, everyday way of life.
[He beckons; two TROLLS with pigs’–heads, white
night–caps, and so forth, bring in food and drink.]
The cow gives cakes and the bullock mead;
ask not if its taste be sour or sweet;
the main matter is, and you mustn’t forget it,
it’s all of it home–brewed.
Peer [pushing the
things away from him]
The devil fly off with your home–brewed drinks!
I’ll never get used to the ways of this land.
The Old Man
The bowl’s given in, and it’s fashioned of gold.
Whoso owns the gold bowl, him my daughter holds dear.
Peer [pondering]
It is written: Thou shalt bridle the natural man;—
and I daresay the drink may in time seem less sour.
So be it!
[Complies.]
The Old Man
Ay, that was sagaciously said.
You spit?
Peer
One must trust to the force of habit.
The Old Man
And next you must throw off your Christian–man’s
garb;
for this you must know to our Dovre’s renown:
here all things are mountain–made, nought’s from the dale,
except the silk bow at the end of your tail.
Peer [indignant]
I haven’t a tail!
The Old Man
Then of course you must get one.
See my Sunday–tail, Chamberlain, fastened to him.
Peer
I’ll be hanged if you do! Would you make me a fool!
The Old Man
None comes courting my child with no tail at his
rear.
Peer
Make a beast of a man!
The Old Man
Nay, my son, you mistake;
I make you a mannerly wooer, no more.
A bright orange bow we’ll allow you to wear,
and that passes here for the highest of honours.
Peer [reflectively]
It’s true, as the saying goes: Man’s but a mote.
And it’s wisest to follow the fashion a bit.
Tie away!
The Old Man
You’re a tractable fellow, I see.
The Courtier
just try with what grace you can waggle and whisk
it!
Peer [peevishly]
Ha, would you force me to go still further?
Do you ask me to give up my Christian faith?
The Old Man
No, that you are welcome to keep in peace.
Doctrine goes free; upon that there’s no duty;
it’s the outward cut one must tell a troll by.
If we’re only at one in our manners and dress,
you may hold as your faith what to us is a horror.
Peer
Why, in spite of your many conditions, you are
a more reasonable chap than one might have expected.
The Old Man
We troll–folk, my son, are less black than we’re
painted;
that’s another distinction between you and us.—
But the serious part of the meeting is over;
now let us gladden our ears and our eyes.
Music–maid, forth! Set the Dovre–harp sounding!
Dancing–maid, forth! Tread the Dovre–hall’s floor!
[Music and a dance.]
The Courtier
How like you it?
Peer
Like it? Hm—
The Old Man
Speak without fear!
What see you?
Peer
Why, something unspeakably grim:
a bell–cow with her hoof on a gut–harp strumming,
a sow in socklets a–trip to the tune.
The Courtiers
Eat him!
The Old Man
His sense is but human, remember!
Troll–maidens
Hu, tear away both his ears and his eyes!
The Green–clad One [weeping]
Hu–hu! And this we must hear and put up with,
when I and my sister make music and dance.
Peer
Oho, was it you? Well, a joke at the feast,
you must know, is never unkindly meant.
The Green–clad One
Can you swear it was so?
Peer
Both the dance and the music
were utterly charming, the cat claw me else.
The Old Man
This same human nature’s a singular thing;
it sticks to people so strangely long.
If it gets a gash in the fight with us,
it heals up at once, though a scar may remain.
My son–in–law, now, is as pliant as any;
he’s willingly thrown off his Christian–man’s garb,
he’s willingly drunk from our chalice of mead,
he’s willingly tied on the tail to his back,—
so willing, in short, did we find him in all things,
I thought to myself the old Adam, for certain,
had for good and all been kicked out of doors;
but lo! in two shakes he’s atop again!
Ay ay, my son, we must treat you, I see,
to cure this pestilent human nature.
Peer
What will you do?
The Old Man
In your left eye, first,
I’ll scratch you a bit, till you see awry;
but all that you see will seem fine and brave.
And then I’ll just cut your right window–pane out—
Peer
Are you drunk?
The Old Man [lays a
number of sharp instruments on the table]
See, here are the glazier’s tools.
Blinkers you’ll wear, like a raging bull.
Then you’ll recognise that your bride is lovely,—
and ne’er will your vision be troubled, as now,
with bell–cows harping and sows that dance.
Peer
This is madman’s talk!
The Oldest Courtier
It’s the Dovre–King speaking;
it’s he that is wise, and it’s you that are crazy!
The Old Man
Just think how much worry and mortification
you’ll thus escape from, year out, year in.
You must remember, your eyes are the fountain
of the bitter and searing lye of tears.
Peer
That’s true; and it says in our sermon–book:
If thine eye offend thee, then pluck it out.
But tell me, when will my sight heal up
into human sight?
The Old Man
Nevermore, my friend.
Peer
Indeed! In that case, I’ll take my leave.
The Old Man
What would you without?
Peer
I would go my way.
The Old Man
No, stop! It’s easy to slip in here,
but the Dovre–King’s gate doesn’t open outwards.
Peer
You wouldn’t detain me by force, I hope?
The Old Man
Come now, just listen to reason, Prince Peer!
You have gifts for trolldom. He acts, does he not,
even now in a passably troll–like fashion?
And you’d fain be a troll?
Peer
Yes, I would, sure enough.
For a bride and a well–managed kingdom to boot,
I can put up with losing a good many things.
But there is a limit to all things on earth.
The tail I’ve accepted, it’s perfectly true;
but no doubt I can loose what the Chamberlain tied.
My breeches I’ve dropped; they were old and patched;
but no doubt I can button them on again.
And lightly enough I can slip my cable
from these your Dovrefied ways of life.
I am willing to swear that a cow is a maid;
an oath one can always eat up again:—
but to know that one never can free oneself,
that one can’t even die like a decent soul;
to live as a hill–troll for all one’s days—
to feel that one never can beat a retreat,—
as the book has it, that’s what your heart is set on;
but that is a thing I can never agree to.
The Old Man
Now, sure as I live, I shall soon lose my temper;
and then I am not to be trifled with.
You pasty–faced loon! Do you know who I am?
First with my daughter you make too free—
Peer
There you lie in your throat!
The Old Man
You must marry her.
Peer
Do you dare to accuse me—?
The Old Man
What? Can you deny
that you lusted for her in heart and eye?
Peer [with a snort of
contempt]
No more? Who the deuce cares a straw for that?
The Old Man
It’s ever the same with this humankind.
The spirit you’re ready to own with your lips,
but in fact nothing counts that your fists cannot handle.
So you really think, then, that lust matters nought?
Wait; you shall soon have ocular proof of it—
Peer
You don’t catch me with a bait of lies!
The Green–clad One
My Peer, ere the year’s out, you’ll be a father.
Peer
Open doors! let me go!
The Old Man
In a he–goat’s skin,
you shall have the brat after you.
Peer [mopping the
sweat off his brow]
Would I could waken!
The Old Man
Shall we send him to the palace?
Peer
You can send him to the parish!
The Old Man
Well well, Prince Peer; that’s your own look–out.
But one thing’s certain, what’s done is done;
and your offspring, too, will be sure to grow;
such mongrels shoot up amazingly fast—
Peer
Old man, don’t act like a headstrong ox!
Hear reason, maiden! Let’s come to terms.
You must know I’m neither a prince nor rich;—
and whether you measure or whether you weigh me,
be sure you won’t gain much by making me yours.
[THE GREEN–CLAD ONE is taken ill, and is carried
out by TROLL–MAIDS.]
The Old Man [looks at
him for a while in high disdain; then says:]
Dash him to shards on the rock–walls, children!
The Troll–imps
Oh dad, mayn’t we play owl–and–eagle first!
The wolf–game! Grey–mouse and glow–eyed cat!
The Old Man
Yes, but quick. I am worried and sleepy. Good–night!
[He goes.]
Peer [hunted by the
TROLL–IMPS]
Let me be, devil’s imps!
[Tries to escape up the chimney.]
The Imps
Come brownies! Come nixies!
Bite him behind!
Peer
Ow!
[Tries to slip down the cellar trap–door.]
The Imps
Shut up all the crannies!
The Troll–courtier
Now the small–fry are happy!
Peer [struggling with
a little imp that has bit himself fast to his ear]
Now the Let go, will you, beast!
The Courtier [hitting
him across the fingers]
Gently, you scamp, with a scion of royalty!
Peer
A rat–hole—!
[Runs to it.]
The Imps
Be quick, Brother Nixie, and block it!
Peer
The old one was bad, but the youngsters are worse!
The Imps
Slash him!
Peer
Oh, would I were small as a mouse!
[Rushing around.]
The Imps [swarming
round him]
Close the ring! Close the ring!
Peer [weeping]
Would that I were a louse!
[He falls.]
The Imps
Now into his eyes!
Peer [buried in a heap
of imps]
Mother, help me, I die!
[Church–bells sound far away.]
The Imps
Bells in the mountain! The Black–Frock’s cows!
[THE TROLLS take to flight, amid a confused uproar
of yells and shrieks. The palace collapses; everything disappears.]
SCENE SEVENTH
[Pitch darkness.]
[PEER GYNT is heard beating and slashing about him
with a large bough.]
Peer
Answer! Who are you?
A Voice In The Darkness
Myself.
Peer
Clear the way!
The Voice
Go roundabout, Peer! The hill’s roomy enough.
Peer [tries to force a
passage at another place, but strikes against something]
Go roundaboutWho are you?
The Voice
Myself. Can you say the same?
Peer
I can say what I will; and my sword can smite!
Mind yourself! Hu, hei, now the blow falls crushing!
King Saul slew hundreds; Peer Gynt slew thousands!
[Cutting and slashing.]
Who are you?
The Voice
Myself.
Peer
That stupid reply
you may spare; it doesn’t clear up the matter.
What are you?
The Voice
The great Boyg.
Peer
Ah, indeed!
The riddle was black; now I’d call it grey.
Clear the way then, Boyg!
The Voice
Go roundabout, Peer!
Peer
No, through!
[Cuts and slashes.]
There he fell!
[Tries to advance, but strikes against
something.]
Ho ho, are there more here?
The Voice
The Boyg, Peer Gynt! the one only one.
It’s the Boyg that’s unwounded, and the Boyg that was hurt,
it’s the Boyg that is dead, and the Boyg that’s alive.
Peer [throws away the
branch]
The weapon is troll–smeared; but I have my fists!
[Fights his way forward.]
The Voice
Ay, trust to your fists, lad, trust to your body.
Hee–hee, Peer Gynt, so you’ll reach the summit.
Peer [falling back
again]
Forward or back, and it’s just as far;—
out or in, and it’s just as strait!
He is there! And there! And he’s round the bend!
No sooner I’m out than I’m back in the ring.—
Name who you are! Let me see you! What are you?
The Voice
The Boyg.
Peer [groping
around]
Not dead, not living; all slimy; misty.
Not so much as a shape! It’s as bad as to battle
in a cluster of snarling, half–wakened bears!
[Screams.]
Strike back at me, can’t you!
The Voice
The Boyg isn’t mad.
Peer
Strike!
The Voice
The Boyg strikes not.
Peer
Fight! You shall
The Voice
The great Boyg conquers, but does not fight.
Peer
Were there only a nixie here that could prick me!
Were there only as much as a year–old troll!
Only something to fight with. But here there is nothing.—
Now he’s snoring! Boyg!
The Voice
What’s your will?
Peer
Use force!
The Voice
The great Boyg conquers in all things without it.
Peer [biting his own
arms and hands]
Claws and ravening teeth in my flesh!
I must feel the drip of my own warm blood.
[A sound is heard like the wing–strokes of great
birds.]
Bird–cries
Comes he now, Boyg?
The Voice
Ay, step by step.
Bird–cries
All our sisters far off! Gather here to the tryst!
Peer
If you’d save me now, lass, you must do it quick!
Gaze not adown so, lowly and bending.—
Your clasp–book! Hurl it straight into his eyes!
Bird–cries
He totters!
The Voice
We have him.
Bird–cries
Sisters! Make haste!
Peer
Too dear the purchase one pays for life
in such a heart–wasting hour of strife.
[Sinks down.]
Bird–cries
Boyg, there he’s fallen! Seize him! Seize him!
[A sound of bells and of psalm–singing is heard far
away.]
The Boyg [shrinks up
to nothing, and says in a gasp:]
He was too strong. There were women behind him.
SCENE EIGHTH
[Sunrise. The mountain–side in front of ÅSE’s
saeter. The door is shut; all is silent and deserted.]
[PEER GYNT is lying asleep by the wall of the
saeter.]
Peer [wakens, and
looks about him with dull and heavy eyes. He spits]. What wouldn’t
I give for a pickled herring!
[Spits again, and at the same moment catches sight
of HELGA, who appears carrying a basket of food.]
Ha, child, are you there? What is it you want?
Helga
It is Solveig—
Peer [jumping
up]
Where is she?
Helga
Behind the saeter.
Solveig [unseen]
If you come nearer, I’ll run away!
Peer [stopping
short]
Perhaps you’re afraid I might take you in my arms?
Solveig
For shame!
Peer
Do you know where I was last night?—
Like a horse–fly the Dovre–King’s daughter is after me.
Solveig
Then it was well that the bells were set ringing.
Peer
Peer Gynt’s not the lad they can lure astray.—
What do you say?
Helga [crying]
Oh, she’s running away!
[Running after her.]
Wait!
Peer [catches her by
the arm]
Look here, what I have in my pocket!
A silver button, child! You shall have it,—
only speak for me!
Helga
Let me be; let me go!
Peer
There you have it.
Helga
Let go; there’s the basket of food.
Peer
God pity you if you don’t—!
Helga
Uf, how you scare me!
Peer [gently; letting
her go]
No, I only meant: beg her not to forget me!
[HELGA runs off.]
