When shall you 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 its 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 t 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! Come, 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 Rondë-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.

  SCENE SIXTH

  The Royal Halt of the King of the Dovrë-Trolls.A great assembly of TROLL-COURTIERS, GNOMES, and BROWNIES. THE OLD MAN OF THE DOVRË sits on the throne, crowned, and with his sceptre in his hand. His CHILDREN and NEAREST RELATIONS are ranged on both sides. PEER GYNT stands before him.Violent commotion in the hall.

  THE TROLL-COURTIERS

  Slay him: a Christian-man’s son has deluded

  The Dovrë-King’s loveliest maid!

  A TROLL-IMP

  May I hack him on the fingers?

  ANOTHER

  May I tug him by the hair?

  A TROLL-MAIDEN

  Hu, hei, let me bite him in the haunches!

  A TROLL-WITCH [With a ladle.]

  Shall he be boiled into broth and bree?

  ANOTHER TROLL-WITCH [With a chopper.]

  Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan?

  THE OLD MAN OF THE DOVRË

  Ice to your blood, friends!

  [Beckons his counsellors closer around him.]

  Don’t let us talk big.

  We’ve been drifting astern in these latter years;

  We can’t tell what’s going to stand or to fall,

  And there’s no sense in turning recruits away.

  Besides the lad’s body has scarce a blemish,

  And he’s strongly-built too, if I see aright.

  It’s true, he has only a single head;

  But my daughter, too, has no more than one.

  Three-headed trolls are gone clean out of fashion;

  One hardly sees even a two-header now,

  And even those heads are but so-so ones.

  [To PEER GYNT.]

  It’s my daughter, then, you demand of me?

  PEER

  Your daughter and the realm to her dowry, yes.

  THE OLD MAN

  You shall have the half while I’m still alive,

  And the other half when I come to die.

  PEER

  I’m content with that.

  THE OLD MAN

  Ay, but stop, my lad;—

  You also have some undertakings to give.

  If you break even one, the whole pact’s at an end,

  And you’ll never get away from here living.

  First of all you must swear that you’ll never give heed

  To aught that lies outside the Rondë-hills’ bounds;

  Day you must shun, and deeds, and each sunlit spot.

  PEER

  Only call me king, and that’s easy to keep.

  THE OLD MAN

  And next—now for putting your wits to the test.

  [Draws himself up in his seat.]

  THE OLDEST TROLL-COURTIER [To PEER GYNT.]

  Let us see if you have a wisdom-tooth

  That can crack the Dovrë-King’s riddle-nut!

  THE OLD MAN

  What difference is there ’twixt trolls and men?

  PEER

  No difference at all, as it seems to me.

  Big trolls would roast you and small trolls would claw you;—

  With us it were likewise, if only they dared.

  THE OLD MAN

  True enough; in that and in more we’re alike.

  Yet morning is morning, and even is even,

  And there is a difference all the same.—

  Now let me tell you wherein it lies:

  Out yonder, under the shining vault,

  Among men the saying goes: “Man, be thyself!”

  At home here with us, ’mid the tribe of the trolls,

  The saying goes: “Troll, to thyself be—enough!”

  THE TROLL-COURTIER [To PEER GYNT.]

  Can you fathom the depth?

  PEER

  It strikes me as misty.

  THE OLD MAN

  My son, that “Enough,” that most potent and sundering

  Word, must be graven upon your escutcheon.

  PEER [Scratching his head.]

  Well, but——

  THE OLD MAN

  It must, if you here would be master!

  PEER

  Oh well, let it pass; after all, it’s no worse——

  THE OLD MAN

  And next you must learn to appreciate

  Our homely, everyday way of life.

  [He beckons; two TROLLS with pigs’-heads, white night-caps, and so

  forth, bring in food and drink.]

  The cow gives cakes and the bullock mead;

  Ask not if its taste be sour or sweet;

  The main matter is, and you mustn’t forget it,

  It’s all of it home-brewed.

  PEER [Pushing the things away from him.]

  The devil fly off with your home-brewed drinks

  I’ll never get used to the ways of this land.

  THE OLD MAN

  The bowl’s given in, and it’s fashioned of gold.

  Whoso own the gold bowl, him my daughter holds dear.

  PEER [Pondering.]

  It is written: Thou shalt bridle the natural man;—

  And I daresay the drink may in time seem less sour.

  So be it!

  [Complies.]

  THE OLD MAN

  Ay, that was sagaciously said.

  You spit?

  PEER

  One must trust to the force of habit.

  THE OLD MAN

  And next you must throw off your Christian-man’s garb;

  For this you must know to our Dovrë’s renown:

  Here all things are mountain-made, nought’s from the dale,

  Except the silk bow at the end of your tail.

  PEER [Indignant.]

  I haven’t a tail!

  THE OLD MAN

  Then of course you must get one.

  See my Sunday-tail, Chamberlain, fastened to him.

  PEER

  I’ll be hanged if you do! Would you make me a fool?

  THE OLD MAN

  None comes courting my child with no tail at his rear.

  PEER

  Make a beast of a man!

  THE OLD MAN

  Nay, my son, you mistake;

  I make you a mannerly wooer, no more.

  A bright orange bow we’ll allow you to wear,

  And that passes here for the highest of honours.

  PEER [Reflectively.]

  It’s true, as the saying goes: Man’s but a mote.

  And it’s wisest to follow the fashion a bit.

  Tie away!

  THE OLD MAN

  You’re a tractable fellow, I see.

  THE COURTIER

  Just try with what grace you can waggle and whisk it!

  PEER [Peevishly.]

  Ha, would you force me to go still further?

  Do you ask me to give up my Christian faith?

  THE OLD MAN

  No, that you are welcome to keep in peace.

  Doctrine goes free; upon that there’s no duty;

  It’s the outward cut one must tell a troll by.

  If we’re only at one in our manners and dress,

  You may hold as your faith what to us is a horror.

  PEER

  Why, in spite of your many conditions, you are

  A more reasonable chap than one might have expected.

  THE OLD MAN

  We troll-folk, my son, are less black than we’re painted;25

  That’s another distinction between you and us.—

  But the serious part of the meeting is over;

  Now let us gladden our ears and our eyes.

  Music-maid, forth! Set the Dovrë-harp sounding!

  Dancing-maid, forth! Tread the Dovrë-hall’s floor!

  [Music and a dance.]

  THE COURTIER

  How like you it?

  PEER

  Like it? H’m——

  THE OLD MAN

  Speak without fear!

  What see you?

  PEER

  Why something unspeakably grim:26

  A bell-cow with her hoof on a gut-harp strumming.

  A sow in socklets a-trip to the tune.

  THE COURTIERS

  Eat him!

  THE OLD MAN

  His sense is but human, remember!

  TROLL-MAIDENS

  Hu, tear away both his ears and his eyes!

  THE GREEN-CLAD ONE [Weeping.]

  Hu-hu! And this we must hear and put up with,

  When I and my sister make music and dance.

  PEER

  Oho, was it you? Well, a joke at the feast,

  You must know, is never unkindly meant.

  THE GREEN-CLAD ONE

  Can you swear it was so?

  PEER

  Both the dance and the music

  Were utterly charming, the cat claw me else.

  THE OLD MAN

  This same human nature’s a singular thing;

  It sticks to people so strangely long.

  If it gets a gash in the fight with us,

  It heals up at once, though a scar may remain.

  My son-in-law, now, is as pliant as any;

  He’s willingly thrown off his Christian-man’s garb,

  He’s willingly drunk from our chalice of mead,

  He’s willingly fastened the tail to his back,—

  So willing, in short, did we find him in all things,

  I thought to myself the old Adam, for certain,

  Had for good and all been kicked out of doors;

  But lo! in two shakes he’s atop again.

  Ay ay, my son, we must treat you, I see,

  To cure this pestilent human nature.

  PEER

  What will you do?

  THE OLD MAN

  In your left eye, first,

  I’ll scratch you a bit, till you see awry;

  But all that you see will seem fine and brave.

  And then I’ll just cut your right window-pane out——

  PEER

  Are you drunk?

  THE OLD MAN [Lays a number of sharp instruments on the table.]

  See, here are the glazier’s tools.

  Blinkers you’ll wear, like a raging bull.

  Then you’ll recognise that your bride is lovely,—

  And ne’er will your vision be troubled, as now,

  With bell-cows harping and sows that dance.

  PEER

  This is madman’s talk!

  THE OLDEST COURTIER

  It’s the Dovrë-King speaking;

  ’Tis he that is wise, and ’tis you that are crazy!

  THE OLD MAN

  Just think how much worry and mortification

  You’ll thus escape from, year out, year in.

  You must remember, your eyes are the fountain

  Of the bitter and searing lye of tears.

  PEER

  That’s true; and it says in our sermon-book:

  If thine eye offend thee, then pluck it out.

  But tell me, when will my sight heal up

  Into human sight?

  THE OLD MAN

  Nevermore, my friend.

  PEER

  Indeed! In that case, I’ll take my leave.

  THE OLD MAN

  What would you without?

  PEER

  I would go my way.

  THE OLD MAN

  No, stop! It’s easy to slip in here,

  But outward the Dovrë-King’s gate opens not.

  PEER

  You wouldn’t detain me by force, I hope?

  THE OLD MAN

  Come now, just listen to reason, Prince Peer!

  You have gifts for trolldom. He acts—does he not?—

  Even now in a passably troll-like fashion?

  And you’d fain be a troll?

  PEER

  Yes, I would, sure enough.

  For a bride, and a well-managed kingdom to boot,

  I can put up with losing a good many things.

  But there is a limit to all things on earth.

  The tail I’ve accepted, it’s perfectly true;

  But no doubt I can loose what the Chamberlain tied.

  My breeches I’ve dropped; they were old and patched;

  But no doubt I can button them on again.

  And lightly enough I can slip my cable

  From these your Dovrëfied ways of life.

  I am willing to swear that a cow is a maid;

  An oath one can always eat up again;—

  But to know that one never can free oneself,

  That one can’t even die like a decent soul;

  To live as a hill-troll for all one’s days—

  To feel that one never can beat a retreat,—

  As the book has it, that’s what your heart is set on;

  But that is a thing I can never agree to.

  THE OLD MAN

  Now, sure as I live, I shall soon lose my temper;

  And then I am not to be trifled with.

  You pasty-faced loon! Do you know who I am?

  First with my daughter you make too free——

  PEER

  There you lie in your throat!

  THE OLD MAN

  You must marry her.

  PEER

  Do you dare to accuse me——?

  THE OLD MAN

  What? Can you deny

  That you lusted for her in heart and eye?

  PEER [With a snort of contempt.]

  No more? Who the deuce cares a straw for that?

  THE OLD MAN

  It’s ever the same with this humankind.

  The spirit you’re ready to own with your lips,

  But in fact nothing counts that your fists cannot handle.

  So you really think, then, that lust matters nought?

  Wait; you shall soon have ocular proof of it——

  PEER

  You don’t catch me with a bait of lies!

  THE GREEN-CLAD ONE

  My Peer, ere the year’s out, your child will be born.

  PEER

  Open doors let me go!

  THE OLD MAN

  In a he-goat’s skin,

  You shall have the brat after you.

  PEER [Mopping the sweat off his brow.]

  Would I could waken!

  THE OLD MAN

  Shall we send him to the palace?

  PEER

  You can send him to the parish!

  THE OLD MAN

  Well well, Prince Peer; that’s your own look-out.

  But one thing’s certain, what’s done is done;

  And your offspring, too, will be sure to grow;

  Such mongrels shoot up amazingly fast——

  PEER

  Old man, don’t act like a headstrong ox!

  Hear reason, maiden! Let’s come to terms.

  You must know I’m neither a prince nor rich;—

  And whether you measure or whether you weigh me,

  Be sure you won’t gain much by making me yours.

  [THE GREEN-CLAD ONE is taken ill, and is carried out by TROLL

  MAIDS.]

  THE OLD MAN [Looks at him for a while in high disdain; then says:]

  Dash him to shards on the rock-walls, children!

  THE TROLL-IMPS

  Oh dad, mayn’t we play owl-and-eagle first!

  The wolf-game! Grey-mouse and glow-eyed cat!

  THE OLD MAN

  Yes, but quick. I am worried and sleepy. Good-night!

  [He goes.]

  PEER [Hunted by the TROLL-IMPS.]

  Let me be, devil’s imps!

  [Tries to escape up the chimney.]

  THE IMPS

  Come brownies! Come nixies!

  Bite him behind!

  PEER

  Ow!

  [Tries to slip down the cellar trap-door.]

  THE IMPS

  Shut up all the crannies!

  THE TROLL-COURTIER

  Now the small-fry are happy!

  PEER [Struggling with a little IMP that has bit himself fast to his ear.]

  Let go will you, beast!