Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906)

Peer Gynt

Translated by Robert Farquharson Sharp

Act II

Scene 5

(A hillside, wooded with great soughing trees. Stars are gleaming through the leaves; birds are singing in the tree-tops.)

(A green-clad woman is crossing the hillside; Peer Gynt follows her, with all sorts of lover-like antics.)

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE (stops and turns round). Is it true?

PEER (drawing his finger across his throat). As true as my name is Peer;—as true as that you are a lovely woman! Will you have me? You’ll see what a fine man I’ll be; you shall neither tread the loom nor turn the spindle. You shall eat all you want, till you’re ready to burst. I never will drag you about by the hair—

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Nor beat me?

PEER. No, can you think I would? We kings’ sons never beat women and such.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. You’re a king’s son?

PEER. Yes.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. I’m the Dovre-King’s daughter.

PEER. Are you? See there, now, how well that fits in!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Deep in the Ronde has father his palace.

PEER. My mother’s is bigger, or much I’m mistaken.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Do you know my father? His name is King Brose.

PEER. Do you know my mother? Her name is Queen Ase.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. When my father is angry the mountains are riven.

PEER. They reel when my mother by chance falls a-scolding.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. My father can kick e’en the loftiest roof-tree.

PEER. My mother can ride through the rapidest river.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Have you other garments besides those rags?

PEER. Ho, you should just see my Sunday clothes!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. My week-day gown is of gold and silk.

PEER. It looks to me liker tow and straws.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Ay, there is one thing you must remember:—this is the Ronde-folk’s use and wont: all our possessions have twofold form. When you shall come to my father’s hall, it well may chance that you’re on the point of thinking you stand in a dismal moraine.

PEER. Well now, with us it’s precisely the same. Our gold will seem to you litter and trash! And you’ll think, mayhap, every glittering pane is nought but a bunch of old stockings and clouts.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE. Black it seems white, and ugly seems fair.

PEER. Big it seems little, and dirty seems clean.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE (falling on his neck). Ay, Peer, now I see that we fit, you and I!

PEER. Like the leg and the trouser, the hair and the comb.

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE (calls away over the hillside). Bridal-steed! Bridal-steed! bridal-steed mine!

(A gigantic pig comes running in with a rope’s end for a bridle and an old sack for a saddle. Peer Gynt vaults on its back, and seats the green-clad one in front of him.)

PEER. Hark-away! Through the Ronde-gate gallop we in! Gee-up, gee-up, my courser fine!

THE GREEN-CLAD ONE (tenderly). Ah, but lately I wandered and moped and pined—. One never can tell what may happen to one!

PEER (thrashing the pig and trotting off). You may know the great by their riding-gear!

Act II Scene 4

Act II Scene 6