PEER. [_Getting behind the Doctor._] I’m sorry to say I’m not quite at home in the situation; But I certainly gather, to judge by your tone—— THE FELLAH. Now you too are lying. BEGRIFFENFELDT. Your Highness should state How the whole matter stands. THE FELLAH. Yes, I’ll tell him my tale. [_Turns to PEER GYNT._ Do you see whom I bear on my shoulders? His name was King Apis of old. Now he goes by the title of mummy, And withal he’s completely dead. All the pyramids yonder he builded, And hewed out the mighty Sphinx, And fought, as the Doctor puts it, With the Turks, both to rechts and links. And therefore the whole of Egypt Exalted him as a god, And set up his image in temples, In the outward shape of a bull.— But _I_ am this very King Apis, I see that as clear as day; And if you don’t understand it, You shall understand it soon. King Apis, you see, was out hunting, And got off his horse awhile, And withdrew himself unattended To a part of my ancestor’s land. But the field that King Apis manured Has nourished _me_ with its corn; And if further proofs are demanded, Know, I have invisible horns. Now, isn’t it most accursëd That no one will own my might! By birth I am Apis of Egypt, But a fellah in other men’s sight. Can you tell me what course to follow?— Then counsel me honestly.— The problem is how to make me Resemble King Apis the Great. PEER. Build pyramids then, your highness, And carve out a greater Sphinx, And fight, as the Doctor puts it, With the Turks, both to rechts and links. THE FELLAH. Ay, that is all mighty fine talking! A fellah! A hungry louse! I, who scarcely can keep my hovel Clear even of rats and mice. Quick, man,—think of something better, That’ll make me both great and safe, And further, exactly like to King Apis that’s on my back! PEER. What if your highness hanged you, And then, in the lap of earth, ’Twixt the coffin’s natural frontiers, Kept still and completely dead. THE FELLAH. I’ll do it! My life for a halter! To the gallows with hide and hair!— At first there will be some difference, But that time will smooth away. [_Goes off and prepares to hang himself._ BEGRIFFENFELDT. There’s a personality for you, Herr Peer,— A man of method—— PEER.