THE BUTTON-MOULDER. [_At the cross-road._] Well now, Peer Gynt, have you found your voucher? PEER. Is this, then, the cross-road? Well, that is short work! THE BUTTON-MOULDER. I can see on your face, as it were on a sign-board, The gist of the paper before I have read it. PEER. I got tired of the hunt;—one might lose one’s way—— THE BUTTON-MOULDER. Yes; and what does it lead to, after all? PEER. True enough; in the wood, and by night as well—— THE BUTTON-MOULDER. There’s an old man, though, trudging. Shall we call him here? PEER. No, let him go. He is drunk, my dear fellow! THE BUTTON-MOULDER. But perhaps he might—— PEER. Hush; no—let him alone! THE BUTTON-MOULDER. Well, shall we begin then? PEER. One question—just one: What is it, at bottom, this “being oneself”? THE BUTTON-MOULDER. A singular question, most odd in the mouth Of a man who but now—— PEER. Come, a straightforward answer. THE BUTTON-MOULDER. To be oneself is: to slay oneself. But on you that answer is doubtless lost; And therefore we’ll say: to stand forth everywhere With Master’s intention displayed like a sign-board. PEER. But suppose a man never has come to know What Master meant with him? THE BUTTON-MOULDER. He must divine it. PEER. But how oft are divinings beside the mark,— Then one’s carried “ad undas”[138] in middle career. THE BUTTON-MOULDER. That is certain, Peer Gynt; in default of divining The cloven-hoofed gentleman finds his best hook. PEER. This matter’s excessively complicated.— See here! I no longer plead being myself;— It might not be easy to get it proven. That part of my case I must look on as lost. But just now, as I wandered alone o’er the heath, I felt my conscience-shoe pinching me; I said to myself: After all, you’re a sinner—— THE BUTTON-MOULDER. You seem bent on beginning all over again—— PEER. No, very far from it; a _great_ one I mean; Not only in deeds, but in words and desires. I’ve lived a most damnable life abroad—— THE BUTTON-MOULDER.