The Old Man.
Nevermore, my friend.
Peer.
Indeed! In that case, I'll take my leave.
The Old Man.
What would you without?
Peer.
I would go my way.
The Old Man.
No, stop! It's easy to slip in here,
But outward the Dovrë-King's gate opens not.
Peer.
You wouldn't detain me by force, I hope?
The Old Man.
Come now, just listen to reason, Prince Peer!
You have gifts for trolldom. He acts—does he not?—
Even now in a passably troll-like fashion?
And you'd fain be a troll?
Peer.
Yes, I would, sure enough.
For a bride, and a well-managed kingdom to boot,
I can put up with losing a good many things.
But there is a limit to all things on earth.
The tail I've accepted, it's perfectly true;
But no doubt I can loose what the Chamberlain tied.
My breeches I've dropped; they were old and patched;
But no doubt I can button them on again.
Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/119
This page needs to be proofread.
