Am I not? There, grab! I can leap like a buck! Were there vine-leaves around, I would garland my brow. To be sure I am young! Hei, I’m going to dance! [_Dances and sings._ I am a blissful game-cock! Peck me, my little pullet! Hop-sa-sa! Let me trip it;— I am a blissful game-cock! ANITRA. You are sweating, my prophet; I fear you will melt;— Hand me that heavy bag hung at your belt. PEER. Tender solicitude! Bear the purse ever;— Hearts that can love are content without gold! [_Dances and sings again._ Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag;— He knows not what foot he shall stand upon. Pooh, says Peer;—pooh, never mind! Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag! ANITRA. What joy when the Prophet steps forth in the dance! PEER. Oh, bother the Prophet!—Suppose we change clothes! Heisa! Strip off! ANITRA. Your caftan were too long, Your girdle too wide, and your stockings too tight—— PEER. _Eh bien!_[93] [_Kneels down._ But vouchsafe me a vehement sorrow;— To a heart full of love, it is sweet to suffer! Listen; as soon as we’re home at my castle—— ANITRA. In your Paradise;—have we far to ride? PEER. Oh, a thousand miles or—— ANITRA. Too far! PEER. Oh, listen;— You shall have the soul that I promised you once—— ANITRA. Oh, thank you; I’ll get on without the soul. But you asked for a sorrow—— PEER. [_Rising._] Ay, curse me, I did! A keen one, but short,—to last two or three days! ANITRA. Anitra obeyeth the Prophet!—Farewell! [_Gives him a smart cut across the fingers, and dashes off, at a tearing gallop, back across the desert._ PEER. [_Stands for a long time thunderstruck._] Well now, may I be——! SCENE NINTH. _The same place, an hour later._ _PEER GYNT is stripping off his Turkish costume, soberly and thoughtfully, bit by bit. Last of all, he takes his little travelling-cap out of his coat pocket, puts it on, and stands once more in European dress._ PEER. [_Throwing the turban far away from him._]