Why, what nonsense is this? THE OLD MAN. You surely don’t want to compel me to lie? You pulled on the troll-breeches, don’t you remember, And tasted the mead—— PEER. Ay, you lured me seductively;— But I flatly declined the decisive test, And that is the thing you must judge your man by. It’s the end of the ditty that all depends on. THE OLD MAN. But it ended, Peer, just in the opposite way. PEER. What rubbish is this? THE OLD MAN. When you left the Rondë, You inscribed my motto upon your escutcheon.[135] PEER. What motto? THE OLD MAN. The potent and sundering word. PEER. The word? THE OLD MAN. That which severs the whole race of men From the troll-folk: _Troll! To thyself be enough!_ PEER. [_Recoils a step._] _Enough!_ THE OLD MAN. And with every nerve in your body, You’ve been living up to it ever since. PEER. What, I? Peer Gynt? THE OLD MAN. [_Weeps._] It’s ungrateful of you! You’ve lived as a troll, but have still kept it secret. The word I taught you has shown you the way To swing yourself up as a man of substance;— And now you must needs come and turn up your nose At me and the word you’ve to thank for it all. PEER. _Enough!_ A hill-troll! An egoist! This must be all rubbish; that’s perfectly certain! THE OLD MAN. [_Pulls out a bundle of old newspapers._] I daresay you think we don’t take in the papers? Wait; here I’ll show you in red and black[136] How the “Bloksberg Post” eulogises you; And the “Heklefjeld Journal” has done the same Ever since the winter you left the country.— Do you care to read them? You’re welcome, Peer. Here’s an article, look you, signed “Stallion-hoof.” And here too is one: “On Troll-Nationalism.” The writer points out and lays stress on the truth That horns and a tail are of little importance, So long as one has but a strip of the hide. “Our _enough_,” he concludes, “gives the hallmark of trolldom To man,”—and proceeds to cite you as an instance. PEER. A hill-troll? I? THE OLD MAN. Yes, that’s perfectly clear. PEER.