Travel? Whither, then? Is not the whole world everywhere the same? And does not Truth’s own mirror in its frame Lie equally to all the sons of men? No, we will stay and watch the merry game, The conjurer’s trick, the tragi-comedy Of liars that are dupes of their own lie; Stiver and Lind, the Parson and his dame, See them,—prize oxen harness’d to love’s yoke, And yet at bottom very decent folk! Each wears for others and himself a mask, Yet one too innocent to take to task; Each one, a stranded sailor on a wreck, Counts himself happy as the gods in heaven; Each his own hand from Paradise has driven, Then, splash! into the sulphur to the neck! But none has any inkling where he lies, Each thinks himself a knight of Paradise, And each sits smiling between howl and howl; And if the Fiend come by with jeer and growl, With horns, and hoofs, and things yet more abhorred,— Then each man jogs the neighbour at his jowl: “Off with your hat, man! See, there goes the Lord!” SVANHILD [_after a brief thoughtful silence_]. How marvellous a love my steps have led To this sweet trysting place! My life that sped In frolic and fantastic visions gay, Henceforth shall grow one ceaseless working day! O God! I wandered groping,—all was dim: Thou gavest me light—and I discovered _him_! [_Gazing at_ FALK _in love and wonder._ Whence is that strength of thine, thou mighty tree That stand’st unshaken in the wind-wrecked wood, That stand’st alone, and yet canst shelter me—? FALK. God’s truth, my Svanhild;—that gives fortitude. SVANHILD [_with a shy glance towards the house_]. They came like tempters, evilly inclined, Each spokesman for his half of humankind, One asking: How can true love reach its goal When riches’ leaden weight subdues the soul? The other asking: How can true love speed When life’s a battle to the death with Need? O horrible!—to bid the world receive That teaching as the truth, and yet to live! FALK. How if ’twere meant for us? SVANHILD. For us?—What, then? Can outward fate control the wills of men? I have already said: if thou’lt stand fast, I’ll dare and suffer by thee to the last. How light to listen to the gospel’s voice, To leave one’s home behind, to weep, rejoice, And take with God the husband of one’s choice! FALK [_embracing her_].