THE OLD MAN. What difference is there ’twixt trolls and men? PEER. No difference at all, as it seems to me. Big trolls would roast you and small trolls would claw you;— With us it were likewise, if only they dared. THE OLD MAN. True enough; in that and in more we’re alike. Yet morning is morning, and even is even, And there is a difference all the same.— Now let me tell you wherein it lies: Out yonder, under the shining vault, Among men the saying goes: “Man, be thyself!” At home here with us, ’mid the tribe of the trolls, The saying goes: “Troll, to thyself be—enough!” THE TROLL-COURTIER. [_To PEER GYNT._] Can you fathom the depth? PEER. It strikes me as misty. THE OLD MAN. My son, that “Enough,” that most potent and sundering Word, must be graven upon your escutcheon. PEER. [_Scratching his head._] Well, but—— THE OLD MAN. It _must_, if you here would be master! PEER. Oh well, let it pass; after all, it’s no worse—— THE OLD MAN. And next you must learn to appreciate Our homely, everyday way of life. [_He beckons; two TROLLS with pigs’-heads, white night-caps, and so forth, bring in food and drink._ The cow gives cakes and the bullock mead; Ask not if its taste be sour or sweet; The main matter is, and you mustn’t forget it, It’s all of it home-brewed. PEER. [_Pushing the things away from him._] The devil fly off with your home-brewed drinks! I’ll never get used to the ways of this land. THE OLD MAN. The bowl’s given in, and it’s fashioned of gold. Whoso own the gold bowl, him my daughter holds dear. PEER. [_Pondering._] It is written: Thou shalt bridle the natural man;— And I daresay the drink may in time seem less sour. So be it! [_Complies._ THE OLD MAN. Ay, that was sagaciously said. You spit? PEER. One must trust to the force of habit. THE OLD MAN. And next you must throw off your Christian-man’s garb; For this you must know to our Dovrë’s renown: Here all things are mountain-made, nought’s from the dale, Except the silk bow at the end of your tail. PEER. [_Indignant._]