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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 GYNT [throwing the turban far away from him].
- There lies the Turk, then, and here stand I!-
- These heathenish doings are no sort of good.
- It's lucky 'twas only a matter of clothes,
- and not, as the saying goes, bred in the bo
