Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (118 page)

PEER
My story, Sir Pen, is, to put it briefly:
I’m a blank sheet of paper that no one will write on.

HUSSEIN
No man understands in the least what I’m good for;
they all want to use me for scattering sand with!

PEER
I was in a woman’s keeping a silver-clasped book; —
it’s one and the same misprint to be either mad or sane!

HUSSEIN
[with high leap]
Just fancy, what an exhausting life:
to be a pen and never taste the edge of a knife!

PEER
Just fancy, for a reindeer to leap from on high —
to fall and fall — and never feel the ground beneath your hoofs!

HUSSEIN
A knife! I am blunt; — quick, mend me and slit me!
The world will go to ruin if they don’t mend my point for me!
!

PEER
A pity for the world which, like other self-made things,
was reckoned by the Lord to be so excellently good.

BEGRIFFENFELDT
Here’s a knife!

HUSSEIN
[seizing it]
Ah, how I shall lick up the ink now!
Oh, what rapture to cut oneself!
[Cuts his throat.]

BEGRIFFENFELDT
[stepping aside]
Pray do not sputter.

PEER
[in increasing terror]
Hold him!

HUSSEIN
Ay, hold me! That is the word!
Hold! Hold the pen! On the desk with the paper — !
[Falls.]
I’m outworn. The postscript — remember it, pray:
He lived and he died as a fate-guided pen!

PEER
[dizzily]
What shall I — ! What am I? Thou mighty — , hold fast!
I am all that thou wilt, — I’m a Turk, I’m a sinner —
a hill-troll — ; but help; — there was something that burst — !
[Shrieks.]
I cannot just hit on thy name at the moment; —
oh, come to my aid, thou — all madmen’s protector!
[Sinks down insensible.]

BEGRIFFENFELDT
[with a wreath of straw in his hand, gives a bound and sits astride of him]
I cannot Ha! See him in the mire enthroned; —
beside himself — ! To crown him now!
Long life, long life to Self-hood’s Kaiser!

SCHAFMANN
[in the cage]
Es lebe hoch der grosse Peer!

ACT FIFT
H

* * * * *

SCENE FIRS
T

[On board a ship on the North Sea, off the Norwegian coast. Sunset. Stormy weather.]
[PEER GYNT, a vigorous old man, with grizzled hair and beard, is standing aft on the poop. He is dressed
half sailor-fashion, with a pea-jacket and long boots. His clothing
is rather the worse for wear; he himself is weather-beaten, and has
a somewhat harder expression. The CAPTAIN is standing beside the
steersman at the wheel. The crew are forward.]

PEER GYNT
[leans with his arms on the bulwark, and gazes towards the land]
Look at Hallingskarv in his winter furs; —
he’s ruffling it, old one, in the evening glow.
The Jokel, his brother, stands behind him askew;
he’s got his green ice-mantle still on his back.
The Flogefann, now, she is mighty fine, —
lying there like a maiden in spotless white.
Don’t you be madcaps, old boys that you are!
Stand where you stand; you’re but granite knobs.

THE CAPTAIN
[shouts forward]
Two hands to the wheel, and the lantern aloft!

PEER
It’s blowing up stiff —

THE CAPTAIN
 
— for a gale to-night.

PEER
Can one see the Ronde Hills from the sea?

THE CAPTAIN
No, how should you? They lie at the back of the snow-fields.

PEER
Or Blaho?

THE CAPTAIN
No; but from up in the rigging,
you’ve a glimpse, in clear weather, of Galdhopiggen.

PEER
Where does Harteig lie?

THE CAPTAIN
[pointing]
About over there.

PEER
I thought so.

THE CAPTAIN
You know where you are, it appears.

PEER
When I left the country, I sailed by here;
And the dregs, says the proverb, hang in to the last.
[Spits, and gazes at the coast.]
In there, where the scaurs and the clefts lie blue, —
where the valleys, like trenches, gloom narrow and black,
and underneath, skirting the open fiords, —
it’s in places like these human beings abide.
[Looks at the CAPTAIN.]
They build far apart in this country.

THE CAPTAIN
Ay;
few are the dwellings and far between.

PEER
Shall we get in by day-break?

THE CAPTAIN
Thereabouts;
if we don’t have too dirty a night altogether.

PEER
It grows thick in the west.

THE CAPTAIN
It does so.

PEER
Stop a bit!
You might put me in mind when we make up accounts —
I’m inclined, as the phrase goes, to do a good turn
to the crew —

THE CAPTAIN
I thank you.

PEER
It won’t be much.
I have dug for gold, and lost what I found; —
we are quite at loggerheads, Fate and I.
You know what I’ve got in safe keeping on board —
that’s all I have left; — the rest’s gone to the devil.

THE CAPTAIN
It’s more than enough, though, to make you of weight
among people at home here.

PEER
I’ve no relations.
There’s no one awaiting the rich old curmudgeon. —
Well; that saves you, at least, any scenes on the pier!

THE CAPTAIN
Here comes the storm.

PEER
Well, remember then —
If any of your crew are in real need,
I won’t look too closely after the money —

THE CAPTAIN
That’s kind. They are most of them ill enough off;
they have all got their wives and their children at home.
With their wages alone they can scarce make ends meet;
but if they come home with some cash to the good,
it will be a return not forgot in a hurry.

PEER
What do you say? Have they wives and children?
Are they married?

THE CAPTAIN
Married? Ay, every man of them.
But the one that is worst off of all is the cook;
black famine is ever at home in his house.

PEER
Married? They’ve folks that await them at home?
Folks to be glad when they come? Eh?

THE CAPTAIN
Of course,
in poor people’s fashion.

PEER
And come they one evening,
what then?

THE CAPTAIN
Why, I daresay the goodwife will fetch
something good for a treat —

PEER
And a light in the sconce?

THE CAPTAIN
Ay, ay, may be two; and a dram to their supper.

PEER
And there they sit snug! There’s a fire on the hearth!
They’ve their children about them! The room’s full of chatter;
not one hears another right out to an end,
for the joy that is on them — !

THE CAPTAIN
It’s likely enough.
So it’s really kind, as you promised just now,
to help eke things out.

PEER
[thumping the bulwark]
I’ll be damned if I do!
Do you think I am mad? Would you have me fork out
for the sake of a parcel of other folks’ brats?
I’ve slaved much too sorely in earning my cash!
There’s nobody waiting for old Peer Gynt.

THE CAPTAIN
Well well; as you please then; your money’s your own.

PEER
Right! Mine it is, and no one else’s.
We’ll reckon as soon as your anchor is down!
Take my fare, in the cabin, from Panama here.
Then brandy all round to the crew. Nothing more.
If I give a doit more, slap my jaw for me, Captain.

THE CAPTAIN
I owe you a quittance, and not a thrashing; —
but excuse me, the wind’s blowing up to a gale.
[He goes forward. It has fallen dark; lights are lit in the cabin. The sea increases. Fog and thick clouds.]

PEER
To have a whole bevy of youngsters at home; —
still to dwell in their minds as a coming delight; —
to have others’ thoughts follow you still on your path! —
There’s never a soul gives a thought to me. —
Lights in the sconces! I’ll put out those lights.
I will hit upon something! — I’ll make them all drunk; —
not one of the devils shall go sober ashore.
They shall all come home drunk to their children and wives!
They shall curse; bang the table till it rings again, —
they shall scare those that wait for them out of their wits!
The goodwife shall scream and rush forth from the house, —
clutch her children along! All their joy gone to ruin!
[The ship gives a heavy lurch; he staggers and keeps his balance with difficulty.]
Why, that was a buffet and no mistake.
The sea’s hard at labour, as though it were paid for it; —
it’s still itself here on the coasts of the north; —
a cross-sea, as wry and wrong-headed as ever —
[Listens.]
Why, what can those screams be?

THE LOOK-OUT
[forward]
A wreck a-lee!

THE CAPTAIN
[on the main deck, shouts]
Helm hard a-starboard! Bring her up to the
wind!

THE MATE
Are there men on the wreck?

THE LOOK-OUT
I can just see three!

PEER
Quick! lower the stern boat —

THE CAPTAIN
She’d fill ere she floated.
[Goes forward.]

PEER
Who can think of that now?
[To some of the crew.]
If you’re men, to the rescue!
What the devil, if you should get a bit of a ducking!

THE BOATSWAIN
It’s out of the question in such a sea.

PEER
They are screaming again! There’s a lull in the wind. —
Cook, will you risk it? Quick! I will pay —

THE COOK
No, not if you offered me twenty
pounds-sterling —

PEER
You hounds! You chicken-hearts! Can you forget
these are men that have goodwives and children at home?
There they’re sitting and waiting —

THE BOATSWAIN
Well, patience is wholesome.

THE CAPTAIN
Bear away from that sea!

THE MATE
There the wreck turned over!

PEER
All is silent of a sudden — !

THE BOATSWAIN
Were they married, as you think,
there are three new-baked widows even now in the world.
[The storm increases. PEER GYNT moves away aft.]

PEER
There is no faith left among men any more, —
no Christianity, — well may they say it and write it; —
their good deeds are few and their prayers are still fewer,
and they pay no respect to the Powers above them. —
In a storm like to-night’s, he’s a terror, the Lord is.
These beasts should be careful, and think, what’s the truth,
that it’s dangerous playing with elephants; —
and yet they must openly brave his displeasure!
I am no whit to blame; for the sacrifice
I can prove I stood ready, my money in hand.
But how does it profit me? — What says the proverb?
A conscience at ease is a pillow of down.
Oh ay, that is all very well on dry land,
but I’m blest if it matters a snuff on board ship,
when a decent man’s out on the seas with such riff-raff.
At sea one never can be one’s self;
one must go with the others from deck to keel;
if for boatswain and cook the hour of vengeance should strike,
I shall no doubt be swept to the deuce with the rest; —
one’s personal welfare is clean set aside; —
one counts but as a sausage in slaughtering-time. —
My mistake is this: I have been too meek;
and I’ve had no thanks for it after all.
Were I younger, I. think I would shift the saddle,
and try how it answered to lord it awhile.
There is time enough yet! They shall know in the parish
that Peer has come sailing aloft o’er the seas!
I’ll get back the farmstead by fair means or foul; —
I will build it anew; it shall shine like a palace.
But none shall be suffered to enter the hall!
They shall stand at the gateway, all twirling their caps; —
they shall beg and beseech — that they freely may do;
but none gets so much as a farthing of mine.
If I’ve had to howl ‘neath the lashes of fate,
trust me to find folks I can lash in my turn —

THE STRANGE PASSENGER
[stands in the darkness at PEER GYNT’s side, and salutes him in friendly fashion]
Good evening Good evening!

PEER
Good evening! What — ? Who are you?

THE PASSENGER
Your fellow-passenger, at your service.

PEER
Indeed? I thought I was the only one.

THE PASSENGER
A mistaken impression, which now is set right.

PEER
But it’s singular that, for the first time to-night,
I should see you —

THE PASSENGER
I never come out in the day-time.

PEER
Perhaps you are ill? You’re as white as a sheet —

THE PASSENGER
No, thank you — my health is uncommonly good.

PEER
What a raging storm!

THE PASSENGER
Ay, a blessed one, man!

PEER
A blessed one?

THE PASSENGER
The sea’s running high as houses.
Ah, one can feel one’s mouth watering!
just think of the wrecks that to-night will be shattered; —
and think, too, what corpses will drive ashore!

PEER
Lord save us!

THE PASSENGER
Have ever you seen a man strangled,
or hanged, — or drowned?

PEER
This is going too far — !

THE PASSENGER
The corpses all laugh. But their laughter is forced;
and the most part are found to have bitten their tongues.

PEER
Hold off from me — !

THE PASSENGER
Only one question pray!
If we, for example, should strike on a rock,
and sink in the darkness —

PEER
You think there is danger?

THE PASSENGER
I really don’t know what I ought to say.
But suppose, now, I float and you go to the bottom —

PEER
Oh, rubbish —

THE PASSENGER
It’s just a hypothesis.
But when one is placed with one foot in the grave,
one grows soft-hearted and open-handed —

PEER
[puts his hand in his pocket]
Ho, money!

THE PASSENGER
No, no; but perhaps you would kindly
make me a gift of your much-esteemed carcass — ?

PEER
This is too much!

THE PASSENGER
No more than your body, you know!
To help my researches in science —