Complete Works of Henrik Ibsen (120 page)

SCENE FOURT
H

[A hillside seamed by the dry bed of a torrent. A ruined mill-house beside the stream. The ground is torn
up, and the whole place waste. Further up the hill, a large
farm-house.]
[An auction is going on in front of the farm-house. There is a great gathering of people, who are drinking,
with much noise. PEER GYNT is sitting on a rubbish-heap beside the
mill.]

PEER
Forward and back, and it’s just as far;
out and in, and it’s just as strait. —
Time wears away and the river gnaws on.
Go roundabout, the Boyg said; — and here one must.

A MAN DRESSED IN MOURNING
Now there is only rubbish left over.
[Catches sight of PEER GYNT.]
Are there strangers here too! God be with you,
good friend!

PEER
Well met! You have lively times here to-day.
Is’t a christening junket or a wedding feast?

THE MAN IN MOURNING
I’d rather call it a house-warming treat; —
the bride is laid in a wormy bed.

PEER
And the worms are squabbling for rags and clouts.

THE MAN IN MOURNING
That’s the end of the ditty; it’s over and done.

PEER
All the ditties end just alike;
and they’re all old together; I knew ‘em as a boy.

A LAD OF TWENTY
[with a casting-ladle]
Just look what a rare thing I’ve been buying!
In this Peer Gynt cast his silver buttons.

ANOTHER
Look at mine, though! The money-bag bought for a halfpenny.

A THIRD
No more, eh? Twopence for the pedlar’s pack!

PEER
Peer Gynt? Who was he?

THE MAN IN MOURNING
All I know is this:
he was kinsman to Death and to Aslak the Smith.

A MAN IN GREY
You’re forgetting me, man! Are you mad or drunk?

THE MAN IN MOURNING
You forget that at Hegstad was a storehouse door.

THE MAN IN GREY
Ay, true; but we know you were never dainty.

THE MAN IN MOURNING
If only she doesn’t give Death the slip —

THE MAN IN GREY
Come, kinsman! A dram, for our kinship’s sake!

THE MAN IN MOURNING
To the deuce with your kinship! You’re maundering in drink —

THE MAN IN GREY
Oh, rubbish; blood’s never so thin as all that;
one cannot but feel one’s akin to Peer Gynt.
[Goes off with him.]

PEER
[to himself]
One meets with acquaintances.

A LAD
[calls after the MAN IN MOURNING]
Mother that’s dead will be after you,
Aslak, if you wet your whistle.

PEER
[rises]
The agriculturists’ saying seems scarce to hold here:
The deeper one harrows the better it smells.

A LAD
[with a bear’s skin]
Look, the cat of the Dovre! Well, only his fell.
It was he chased the trolls out on Christmas Eve.

ANOTHER
[with a reindeer-skull]
Here is the wonderful reindeer that bore,
at Gendin, Peer Gynt over edge and scaur.

A THIRD
[with a hammer, calls out to the MAN IN MOURNING]
Hei, Aslak, this sledge-hammer, say, do you know it?
Was it this that you used when the devil clove the wall?

A FOURTH
[empty-handed]
Mads Moen, here’s the invisible cloak
Peer Gynt and Ingrid flew off through the air with.

PEER
Brandy here, boys! I feel I’m grown old; —
I must put up to auction my rubbish and lumber!

A LAD
What have you to sell, then?

PEER
A palace I have —
it lies in the Ronde; it’s solidly built.

THE LAD
A button is bid!

PEER
You must run to a dram.
‘Twere a sin and a shame to bid anything less.

ANOTHER
He’s a jolly old boy this!
[The bystanders crowd round him.]

PEER
[shouts]
Grane, my steed; who bids?

ONE OF THE CROWD
Where’s he running?

PEER
Why, far in the west!
Near the sunset, my lads! Ah, that courser can fly
as fast, ay, as fast as Peer Gynt could lie.

VOICES
What more have you got?

PEER
I’ve both rubbish and gold!
I bought it with ruin; I’ll sell it at a loss.

A LAD
Put it up!

PEER
A dream of a silver-clasped book!
That you can have for an old hook and eye.

THE LAD
To the devil with dreams!

PEER
Here’s my Kaiserdom!
I throw it in the midst of you; scramble for it!

THE LAD
Is the crown given in?

PEER
Of the loveliest straw.
It will fit whoever first puts it on.
Hei, there is more yet! An addled egg!
A madman’s grey hair! And the Prophet’s beard!
All these shall be his that will show on the hillside
a post that has writ on it: Here lies your path!

THE BAILIFF
[who has come up]
You’re carrying on, my good man, so that almost
I think that your path will lead straight to the lock-up.

PEER
[hat in hand]
Quite likely. But, tell me, who was Peer Gynt?

THE BAILIFF
Oh, nonsense —

PEER
Your pardon! Most humbly I beg — !

THE BAILIFF
Oh, he’s said to have been an abominable liar —

PEER
A liar — ?

THE BAILIFF
Yes — all that was strong and great
he made believe always that he had done it.
But, excuse me, friend — I have other duties —
[Goes.]

PEER
And where is he now, this remarkable man?

AN ELDERLY MAN
He fared over seas to a foreign land;
it went ill with him there, as one well might foresee; —
it’s many a year now since he was hanged.

PEER
Hanged! Ay, ay! Why, I thought as much;
our lamented Peer Gynt was himself to the last.
[Bows.]
Good-bye, — and best thanks for to-day’s merry meeting.
[Goes a few steps, but stops again.]
You joyous youngsters, you comely lasses, —
shall I pay my shot with a traveller’s tale?

SEVERAL VOICES
Yes; do you know any?

PEER
Nothing more easy. —
[He comes nearer; a look of strangeness comes over him.]
I was gold-digging once in San Francisco.
There were mountebanks swarming all over the town.
One with his toes could perform on the fiddle;
another could dance a Spanish halling on his knees;
a third, I was told, kept on making verses
while his brain-pan was having a hole bored right through it.
To the mountebank-meeting came also the devil; —
thought he’d try his luck with the rest of them.
His talent was this: in a manner convincing,
he was able to grunt like a flesh-and-blood pig.
He was not recognised, yet his manners attracted.
The house was well filled; expectation ran high.
He stepped forth in a cloak with an ample cape to it;
man muss sich drappiren, as the Germans say.
But under the mantle — what none suspected —
he’d managed to smuggle a real live pig.
And now he opened the representation;
the devil he pinched, and the pig gave voice.
The whole thing purported to be a fantasia
on the porcine existence, both free and in bonds;
and all ended up with a slaughter-house squeal —
whereupon the performer bowed low and retired. —
The critics discussed and appraised the affair;
the tone of the whole was attacked and defended.
Some fancied the vocal expression too thin,
while some thought the death-shriek too carefully studied;
but all were agreed as to one thing: qua grunt,
the performance was grossly exaggerated. —
Now that, you see, came of the devil’s stupidity
in not taking the measure of his public first.
[He bows and goes off. A puzzled silence comes over the crowd.]

SCENE FIFT
H

[Whitsun Eve. — In the depths of the forest. To the back, in a clearing, is a hut with a pair of reindeer horns
over the porch-gable.]
[PEER GYNT is creeping among the undergrowth, gathering wild onions.]

PEER
Well, this is one standpoint. Where is the next?
One should try all things and choose the best.
Well, I have done so, — beginning from Caesar,
and downwards as far as to Nebuchadnezzar.
So I had, after all, to go through Bible history; —
the old boy’s had to take to his mother again.
After all it is written: Of the earth art thou come. —
The main thing in life is to fill one’s belly.
Fill it with onions? That’s not much good; —
I must take to cunning, and set out snares.
There’s water in the beck here; I shan’t suffer thirst;
and I count as the first ‘mong the beasts after all.
When my time comes to die — as most likely it will, —
I shall crawl in under a wind-fallen tree;
like the bear, I will heap up a leaf-mound above me,
and I’ll scratch in big print on the bark of the tree:
Here rests Peer Gynt, that decent soul,
Kaiser o’er all of the other beasts. —
Kaiser?
[Laughs inwardly.]
Why, you old soothsayer-humbug!
no Kaiser are you; you are nought but an onion.
I’m going to peel you now, my good Peer!
You won’t escape either by begging or howling.
[Takes an onion and pulls off layer after layer.]
There lies the outermost layer, all torn;
that’s the shipwrecked man on the jolly-boat’s keel.
Here’s the passenger layer, scanty and thin; —
and yet in its taste there’s a tang of Peer Gynt.
Next underneath is the gold-digger ego;
the juice is all gone — if it ever had any.
This coarse-grained layer with the hardened skin
is the peltry-hunter by Hudson’s Bay.
The next one looks like a crown; — oh, thanks!
we’ll throw it away without more ado.
Here’s the archaeologist, short but sturdy;
and here is the Prophet, juicy and fresh.
He stinks, as the Scripture has it, of lies,
enough to bring the water to an honest man’s eyes.
This layer that rolls itself softly together
is the gentleman, living in ease and good cheer.
The next one seems sick. There are black streaks upon it; —
black symbolises both parsons and niggers.
[Pulls off several layers at once.]
What an enormous number of swathings!
Isn’t the kernel soon coming to light?
[Pulls the whole onion to pieces.]
I’m blest if it is! To the innermost centre,
it’s nothing but swathings — each smaller and smaller. —
Nature is witty!
[Throws the fragments away.]
The devil take brooding!
If one goes about thinking, one’s apt to stumble.
Well, I can at any rate laugh at that danger;
for here on all fours I am firmly planted.
[Scratches his head.]
A queer enough business, the whole concern!
Life, as they say, plays with cards up its sleeve;
but when one snatches at them, they’ve disappeared,
and one grips something else, — or else nothing at all.
[He has come near to the hut; he catches sight of it and starts.]
This hut? On the heath — ! Ha!
[Rubs his eyes.]
It seems exactly
as though I had known this same building before. —
The reindeer-horns jutting above the gable! —
A mermaid, shaped like a fish from the navel! —
Lies! there’s no mermaid! But nails — and planks, —
bars too, to shut out hobgoblin thoughts! —

SOLVEIG
[singing in the hut]
Now all is ready for Whitsun Eve.
Dearest boy of mine, far away,
comest thou soon?
Is thy burden heavy,
take time, take time; —
I will await thee;
I promised of old.

PEER
[rises, quiet and deadly pale]
One that’s remembered, — and one that’s forgot.
One that has squandered, — and one that has saved. —
Oh, earnest! — and never can the game be played o’er!
Oh, dread! — here was my Kaiserdom!
[Hurries off along the wood path.]

SCENE SIXT
H

[Night. A heath, with fir-trees. A forest fire has been raging; charred tree-trunks are seen stretching for
miles. White mists here and there clinging to the earth.]
[PEER GYNT comes running over the heath.]

PEER
Ashes, fog-scuds, dust wind-driven, —
here’s enough for building with!
Stench and rottenness within it;
all a whited sepulchre.
Figments, dreams, and still-born knowledge
lay the pyramid’s foundation;
o’er them shall the work mount upwards,
with its step on step of falsehood.
Earnest shunned, repentance dreaded,
flaunt at the apex like a scutcheon,
fill the trump of judgment with their:
Petrus Gyntus Caesar fecit!
[Listens.]
What is this, like children’s weeping?
Weeping, but half-way to song. —
Thread-balls at my feet are rolling! —
[Kicking at them.]
Off with you! You block my path!

THE THREAD-BALLS
[on the ground]
We are thoughts;
thou shouldst have thought us; —
feet to run on
thou shouldst have given us!

PEER
[going round about]
I have given life to one; —
‘twas a bungled, crook-legged thing!

THE THREAD-BALLS
We should have soared up
like clangorous voices, —
and here we must trundle
as grey-yarn thread-balls.

PEER
[stumbling]
Thread-clue! You accursed scamp!
Would you trip your father’s heels?
[Flees.]

Peer and the Threadballs

WITHERED LEAVES
[flying before the wind]
We are a watchword;
thou shouldst have proclaimed us!
See how thy dozing
has wofully riddled us.
The worm has gnawed us
in every crevice;
we have never twined us
like wreaths round fruitage.

PEER
Not in vain your birth, however; —
lie but still and serve as manure.

A SIGHING IN THE AIR
We are songs;
thou shouldst have sung us! —
a thousand times over
hast thou cowed us and smothered us.
Down in thy heart’s pit
we have lain and waited; —
we were never called forth.
In thy gorge be poison!

PEER
Poison thee, thou foolish stave!
Had I time for verse and stuff?
[Attempts a short cut.]

DEWDROPS
[dripping from the branches]
We are tears
unshed for ever.
Ice-spears, sharp-wounding,
we could have melted.
Now the barb rankles
in the shaggy bosom; —
the wound is closed over;
our power is ended.

PEER
Thanks; — I wept in Ronde-cloisters, —
none the less they tied the tail on!

BROKEN STRAWS
We are deeds;
thou shouldst have achieved us!
Doubt, the throttler,
has crippled and riven us.
On the Day of Judgment
we’ll come a-flock,
and tell the story, —
then woe to you!

PEER
Rascal-tricks! How dare you debit
what is negative against me?
[Hastens away.]

ÅSE’S VOICE
[far away]
Fie, what a post-boy!
Hu, you’ve upset me!
Snow’s newly fallen here; —
sadly it’s smirched me. —
You’ve driven me the wrong way.
Peer, where’s the castle?
The Fiend has misled you
with the switch from the cupboard!

PEER
Better haste away, poor fellow!
With the devil’s sins upon you,
soon you’ll faint upon the hillside; —
hard enough to bear one’s own sins.
[Runs off.]