PEER GYNT (Illustrated Edition). Henrik Ibsen
your temper, Peer!
Though Ingrid has jilted you, others are left;—
think — son of Jon Gynt! Come on to the feast;
you’ll find there both lambkins and widows well on —
Peer
To hell —!
The Smith
You will surely find one that will have you.—
Good evening! I’ll give your respects to the bride.—
[They go off, laughing and whispering.]
Peer [looks after them a while, then makes a defiant motion and turns half round]
For my part, may Ingrid of Hegstad go marry
whoever she pleases. It’s all one to me.
[Looks down at his clothes.]
My breeches are torn. I am ragged and grim.—
If only I had something new to put on now.
[Stamps on the ground.]
If only I could, with a butcher-grip,
tear out the scorn from their very vitals!
[Looks round suddenly.]
What was that? Who was it that tittered behind there?
Hm, I certainly thought — No no, it was no one.—
I’ll go home to mother.
[Begins to go upwards, but stops again and listens towards Hegstad.]
They’re playing a dance!
[Gazes and listens; moves downwards step by step, his eyes glisten; he rubs his hands down his thighs.]
How the lasses do swarm! Six or eight to a man!
Oh, galloping death,— I must join in the frolic!—
But how about mother, perched up on the mill-house —
[His eyes are drawn downwards again; he leaps and laughs.]
Hei, how the Halling flies over the green!
Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out!
It gurgles and booms like a foss o’er a scaur.
And then all that glittering bevy of girls!—
Yes, galloping death, I must join in the frolic!
[Leaps over the fence and goes down the road.]
Scene Third
[The farm-place at Hegstad. In the background, the dwelling-house. A THRONG OF GUESTS. A lively dance in progress on the green. THE FIDDLER sits on a table. THE MASTER–COOK is standing in the doorway. COOKMAIDS are going to and fro between the different buildings Groups of ELDERLY PEOPLE sit here and there, talking.]
A Woman [joins a group that is seated on some logs of wood]
The bride? Oh yes, she is crying a bit;
but that, you know, isn’t worth heeding.
The Master-cook [in another group]
Now then, good folk, you must empty the barrel.
A Man
Thanks to you, friend; but you fill up too quick.
A Lad [to the FIDDLER as he flies past, holding A GIRL by the hand]
To it now, Guttorm, and don’t spare the fiddlestrings!
The Girl
Scrape till it echoes out over the meadows!
Other Girls [standing in a ring round a lad who is dancing]
That’s a rare fling!
A Girl
He has legs that can lift him!
The Lad [dancing]
The roof here is high, and the walls wide asunder!
The Bridegroom [comes whimpering up to his FATHER, who is standing talking with some other men, and twitches his jacket]
Father, she will not; she is so proud!
His Father
What won’t she do?
The Bridegroom
She has locked herself in.
His Father
Well, you must manage to find the key.
The Bridegroom
I don’t know how.
His Father
You’re a nincompoop!
[Turns away to the others. The BRIDEGROOM drifts across the yard.]
A Lad [comes from behind the house]
Wait a bit, girls! Things’ll soon be lively!
Here comes Peer Gynt.
The Smith [who has just come up]
Who invited him?
The Master-cook
No one.
[Goes towards the house.]
The Smith [to the girls]
If he should speak to you, never take notice!
A Girl [to the others]. No, we’ll pretend that we don’t even see him.
Peer Gynt [comes in heated and full of animation, stops right in front of the group, and claps his hands]
Which is the liveliest girl of the lot of you?
A Girl [as he approaches her]
I am not.
Another [similarly]
I am not.
A Third
No; nor I either.
Peer [to a fourth]
You come along, then, for want of a better.
The Girl
Haven’t got time.
Peer [to a fifth]
Well then, you!
The Girl [going]
I’m for home.
Peer
To-night? are you utterly out of your senses?
The Smith [after a moment, in a low voice]
See, Peer, she’s taken a greybeard for partner.
Peer [turns sharply to an elderly man]
Where are the unbespoke girls?
The Man
Find them out.
[Goes away from him.]
[PEER GYNT has suddenly become subdued. He glances shyly and furtively at the group. All look at him, but no one speaks. He approaches other groups. Wherever he goes there is silence; when he moves away, they look after him and smile.]
Peer [to himself]
Mocking looks; needle-keen whispers and smiles.
They grate like a sawblade under the file!
[He slinks along close to the fence. SOLVEIG, leading little HELGA by the hand, comes into the yard, along with her PARENTS.]
A Man [to another, close to PEER GYNT]
Look, here are the new folk.
The