Yes, yes; I see——; But he’ll really hang himself! God grant us grace! I’ll be ill;—I can scarcely command my thoughts! BEGRIFFENFELDT. A state of transition; it won’t last long. PEER. Transition? To what? With your leave—I must go—— BEGRIFFENFELDT. [_Holding him_.] Are you crazy? PEER. Not yet——. Crazy? Heaven forbid! [_A commotion. The Minister HUSSEIN[106] forces his way through the crowd._ HUSSEIN. They tell me a Kaiser has come to-day. [_To PEER GYNT._ It is you? PEER. [_In desperation._] Yes, that is a settled thing! HUSSEIN. Good.—Then no doubt there are notes to be answered? PEER. [_Tearing his hair._] Come on! Right you are, sir;—the madder the better! HUSSEIN. Will you do me the honour of taking a dip? [_Bowing deeply._ I am a pen. PEER. [_Bowing still deeper._] Why then I am quite clearly A rubbishy piece of imperial parchment. HUSSEIN. My story, my lord, is concisely this: They take me for a pounce-box,[107] and I am a pen. PEER. My story, Sir Pen, is, to put it briefly: I’m a blank sheet of paper that no one will write on. HUSSEIN. No man understands in the least what I’m good for; They all want to use me for scattering sand with! PEER. I was in a woman’s keeping a silver-clasped book;— It’s one and the same misprint to be either mad or sane! HUSSEIN. Just fancy, what an exhausting life. To be a pen and never taste the edge of a knife! PEER. [_With a high leap._] Just fancy, for a reindeer to leap from on high— To fall and fall—and never feel the ground beneath your hoofs! HUSSEIN. A knife! I am blunt;—quick, mend me and slit me! The world will go to ruin if they don’t mend my point for me! PEER. A pity for the world which, like other self-made things, Was reckoned by the Lord to be so excellently good. BEGRIFFENFELDT. Here’s a knife! HUSSEIN. [_Seizing it._]