The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 04 (of 11)Ibsen, Henrik
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The collected works of Henrik Ibsen, Vol. 04 (of 11)
Ibsen, Henrik
Ibsen, Henrik, 1828-1906 -- Translations into English; Norwegian drama -- Translations into English
SOLVEIG.
[_Nodding to him as he goes._]
Yes, I’ll wait!
[_PEER GYNT goes down the wood-path. SOLVEIG remains
standing in the open half-door._
SCENE FOURTH.
_ÅSE’S room. Evening. The room is lighted by a wood fire on the
open hearth. A cat is lying on a chair at the foot of the
bed._
_ÅSE lies in the bed, fumbling about restlessly with her hands
on the coverlet._
ÅSE.
Oh, Lord my God, isn’t he coming?
The time drags so drearily on.
I have no one to send with a message;
And I’ve much, oh so much, to say.
I haven’t a moment to lose now!
So quickly! Who could have foreseen
Oh me, if I only were certain
I’d not been too strict with him!
PEER GYNT.
[_Enters._]
Good evening!
ÅSE.
The Lord give you gladness!
You’ve come then, my boy, my dear!
But how dare you show face in the valley?
You know your life’s forfeit here.
PEER.
Oh, life must e’en go as it may go;
I felt that I must look in.
ÅSE.
Ay, now Kari is put to silence,
And I can depart in peace!
PEER.
Depart? Why, what are you saying?
Where is it you think to go?
ÅSE.
Alas, Peer, the end is nearing;
I have but a short time left.
PEER.
[_Writhing, and walking towards the back of the room._]
See there now! I’m fleeing from trouble;
I thought at least _here_ I’d be free——!
Are your hands and your feet a-cold, then?
ÅSE.
Ay, Peer; all will soon be o’er.—
When you see that my eyes are glazing,
You must close them carefully.
And then you must see to my coffin;
And be sure it’s a fine one, dear.
Ah no, by-the-bye——
PEER.
Be quiet!
There’s time yet to think of that.
ÅSE.
Ay, ay.
[_Looks restlessly round the room._
Here you see the little
They’ve left us! It’s like them, just.
PEER.
[_With a writhe._]
Again!
[_Harshly._
Well, I know it was my fault.
What’s the use of reminding me?
ÅSE.
You! No, that accursed liquor,
From that all the mischief came!
Dear my boy, you know you’d been drinking;
And then no one knows what he does;
And besides, you’d been riding the reindeer;
No wonder your head was turned!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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