Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906)

Peer Gynt

Translated by Robert Farquharson Sharp

Act II

Scene 4

(Among the Ronde mountains. Sunset. Shining snowpeaks all around.)

(Peer Gynt enters, dizzy and bewildered.)

PEER. Tower over tower arises! Hei, what a glittering gate! Stand! Will you stand? It’s drifting further and further away! High on the vane the cock stands lifting his wings for flight;—blue spread the rifts and bluer, locked is the fell and barred.—What are those trunks and tree-roots, that grow from the ridge’s clefts? They are warriors heron-footed! Now they, too, are fading away. A shimmering like rainbow-streamers goes shooting through eyes and brain. What is it, that far-off chiming? What’s weighing my eyebrows down? Hu, how my forehead’s throbbing—a tightening red-hot ring—! I cannot think who the devil has bound it around my head! (Sinks down.) Flight o’er the Edge of Gendin—stuff and accursed lies! Up o’er the steepest hill-wall with the bride,—and a whole day drunk; hunted by hawks and falcons, threatened by trolls and such, sporting with crazy wenches:—lies and accursed stuff! (Gazes long upwards.) Yonder sail two brown eagles. Southward the wild geese fly. And here I must splash and stumble in quagmire and filth knee-deep! (Springs up.) I’ll fly too! I will wash myself clean in the bath of the keenest winds! I’ll fly high! I will plunge myself fair in the glorious christening-font! I will soar far over the saeter; I will ride myself pure of soul; I will forth o’er the salt sea waters, and high over Engelland’s prince! Ay, gaze as ye may, young maidens; my ride is for none of you; you’re wasting your time in waiting—! Yet maybe I’ll swoop down, too.—What has come of the two brown eagles—? They’ve vanished, the devil knows where!—There’s the peak of a gable rising; it’s soaring on every hand: it’s growing from out the ruins;—see, the gateway is standing wide! Ha-ha, yonder house, I know it; it’s grandfather’s new-built farm! Gone are the clouts from the windows; the crazy old fence is gone. The lights gleam from every casement; there’s a feast in the hall to-night. There, that was the provost clinking the back of his knife on his glass;—there’s the captain flinging his bottle, and shivering the mirror to bits.—Let them waste; let it all be squandered! Peace, mother; what need we care! ’Tis the rich Jon Gynt gives the banquet; hurrah for the race of Gynt! What’s all this bustle and hubbub? Why do they shout and bawl? The captain is calling the son in;—oh, the provost would drink my health. In then, Peer Gynt, to the judgment; it rings forth in song and shout: Peer Gynt, thou art come of great things, and great things shall come of thee!

(Leaps forward, but runs his head against a rock, falls, and remains stretched on the ground.)

Act II Scene 3

Act II Scene 5