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Placed upon your Emperor's brow!
Victory on his Person's basis
Has Peer Gynt this night achieved.
SCENE EIGHTH.
A caravan route. The oasis is seen far off in the background.
Peer Gynt comes galloping across the desert, on his white horse, with Anitra before him on his saddle-bow.
Anitra.
Let be, or I'll bite you!
Peer.
You little rogue!
Anitra.
What would you?
Peer.
What would I? Play hawk and dove.
Run away with you! Frolic and frisk a bit!
Anitra.
For shame! An old prophet like you!
Peer.
Oh, stuff!
The prophet's not old at all, you goose!
Do you think all this is a sign of age?
Anitra.
Let me go! I want to go home!
