The tongues of the lances All flickering and flashing,— See, see! THE RECEIVER. Already my head seems To roll on the sand-plain! Woe, woe! THE THIEF. [_Folds his arms over his breast._] My father he thieved; So his son must be thieving. THE RECEIVER. My father received; Still his son is receiving.[86] THE THIEF. Thy lot shalt thou bear still; Thyself shalt thou be still. THE RECEIVER. [_Listening._] Steps in the brushwood! Flee, flee! But where? THE THIEF. The cavern is deep, And the Prophet great! [_They make off, leaving the booty behind them. The horsemen gradually disappear in the distance._ PEER GYNT. [_Enters, cutting a reed whistle._] What a delectable morning-tide!— The dung-beetle’s rolling his ball in the dust; The snail creeps out of his dwelling-house. The morning; ay, it has gold in its mouth.— It’s a wonderful power, when you think of it, That Nature has given to the light of day. One feels so secure, and so much more courageous,— One would gladly, at need, take a bull by the horns.— What a stillness all round! Ah, the joys of Nature,— Strange enough I should never have prized them before. Why go and imprison oneself in a city, For no end but just to be bored by the mob.— Just look how the lizards are whisking about, Snapping, and thinking of nothing at all. What innocence ev’n in the life of the beasts! Each fulfils the Creator’s behest unimpeachably, Preserving its own special stamp undefaced; Is itself, is itself, both in sport and in strife, Itself, as it was at his primal: Be! [_Puts on his eye-glasses._ A toad. In the middle of a sandstone block. Petrifaction all around him. His head alone peering. There he’s sitting and gazing as though through a window At the world, and is—to himself enough.— [_Reflectively._ Enough? To himself——? Where is it that’s written? I’ve read it, in youth, in some so-called classic. In the family prayer-book? Or Solomon’s Proverbs? Alas, I notice that, year by year, My memory for dates and for places is fading. [_Seats himself in the shade._ Here’s a cool spot to rest and to stretch out one’s feet. Why, look, here are ferns growing—edible roots. [_Eats a little._ ’Twould be fitter food for an animal;— But the text says: Bridle the natural man! Furthermore it is written: The proud shall be humbled, And whoso abaseth himself, exalted.