Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906)

Peer Gynt

Translated by Robert Farquharson Sharp

Act IV

Scene 8

(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 Iíll 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 youó!

PEER. Oh, stuff! The prophetís 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!

PEER. Coquette! What, home! To father-in-law! That would be fine! We madcap birds that have flown from the cage must never come into his sight again. Besides, my child, in the self-same place itís wisest never to stay too long; for familiarity lessens respect;ómost of all when one comes as a prophet or such. One should show oneself glimpse-wise, and pass like a dream. Faith, ítwas time that the visit should come to an end. Theyíre unstable of soul, are these sons of the desert;óboth incense and prayers dwindled off towards the end.

ANITRA. Yes, but are you a prophet?

PEER. Your Emperor I am! (Tries to kiss her.) Why, just see now how coy the wee woodpecker is!

ANITRA. Give me that ring that you have on your finger.

PEER. Take, sweet Anitra, the whole of the trash!

ANITRA. Thy words are as songs! Oh, how dulcet their sound!

PEER. How blessed to know oneself loved to this pitch! Iíll dismount! Like your slave, I will lead your palfrey! (Hands her his riding-whip, and dismounts.) There now, my rosebud, my exquisite flower! Here Iíll go trudging my way through the sand, till a sunstroke oíertakes me and finishes me. Iím young, Anitra; bear that in mind! You mustnít be shocked at my escapades. Frolics and high-jinks are youthís sole criterion! And so, if your intellect werenít so dense, you would see at a glance, oh my fair oleander,óyour lover is frolicsomeóergo, heís young!

ANITRA. Yes, you are young. Have you any more rings?

PEER. Am I not? There, grab! I can leap like a buck! Were there vine-leaves around, I would garland my brow. To be sure, I am young! Hei, Iím going to dance! (Dances and sings.) I am a blissful game-cock! Peck me, my little pullet! Hop-sa-sa! Let me trip it;óI am a blissful game-cock!

ANITRA. You are sweating, my prophet; I fear you will melt;óhand me that heavy bag hung at your belt.

PEER. Tender solicitude! Bear the purse ever;óhearts that can love are content without gold! (Dances and sings again.) Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag;óhe knows not what foot he shall stand upon. Pooh, says Peer;ópooh, never mind! Young Peer Gynt is the maddest wag!

ANITRA. What joy when the Prophet steps forth in the dance!

PEER. Oh, bother the Prophet!óSuppose we change clothes! Heisa! Strip off!

ANITRA. Your caftan were too long, your girdle too wide, and your stockings too tightó

PEER. Eh bien! (Kneels down.) But vouchsafe me a vehement sorrow,óto a heart full of love, it is sweet to suffer! Listen; as soon as weíre home at my castleó

ANITRA. In your Paradise;óhave we far to ride?

PEER. Oh, a thousand miles oró

ANITRA. Too far!

PEER. Oh, listen;óyou shall have the soul that I promised you onceó

ANITRA. Oh, thank you; Iíll get on without the soul. But you asked for a sorrowó

PEER (rising). Ay, curse me, I did! A keen one, but short,óto last two or three days!

ANITRA. Anitra obeyeth the Prophet!óFarewell!

(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 beó!

Act IV Scene 7

Act IV Scene 9