by Henrik Ibsen
that much is plain.
[Weeping]
Oh, my dear lad, oh such a prize:
Hæggstad’s endowments in her gift;
yours for the taking, once, with ease;
her fancied bridegroom, if you please.
Look at you now – in rags, bereft!
PEER [abruptly]:
I’ll get her to say ‘yes’
right now. When I propose!
AASE: Now? Where?
PEER: At Hæggstad!
AASE: My poor boy,
That path is closed; you’ll have no joy.
PEER: Why so?
AASE [sobbing]:
My dear son, let me weep.
Your luck is lost, your time is up.
[Sobbing]
While you were on your western jaunt
riding your fancy to the hunt,
Mads Moen …
PEER: That weed?
AASE: … went and proposed
and was accepted.
PEER: All’s not lost!
Wait! I’ll make ready mare and cart.
Begins to leave.
AASE: Spare the effort.
Tomorrow’s the great day.
PEER: That right? –
No matter: I’ll be there tonight.
AASE: Shame on you. Will you add the weight
of folks’ contempt: more shame and slight?
PEER: Be of good cheer, all shall be well!
[Shouting and laughing]
The cart would be too slow. I’ll …
Lifts her up.
AASE: Put me down! Put me down!
PEER: No fear!
I’ll carry you in my arms as far
as Hæggstad. Then we’ll see who’s wed.
Wades out into the river.
AASE: More likely we’ll both drown.
PEER: For something better I was born,
a nobler death!
AASE: Yes, to be sure,
you’ll end by dancing on the air.
‘None shall drown going gallows-ward,’
that’s what they say. You brute!
PEER: It’s hard to keep our foot-
ing here, ’s all weeds and mud.
AASE: You donkey!
PEER: Spit and swear.
There’s nothing that we can’t repair.
It’s getting shallower.
One, two, we’re almost through!
Let’s play! Let’s play ‘Peer and the Buck’!
I’ll be the Buck and you be Peer.
AASE: Where are we, lad? Lad! where’s the track?
PEER [wading ashore]:
Here. Right here. Now that we’re clear
across, give Buck a kiss,
say ‘thanks for the ride’.
AASE [boxing his ears]:
‘Thanks for the ride’, then!
PEER: Ouch!
Wish you’d kept that in your pouch!
AASE: Let be!
PEER: When we reach the farm
I need you to speak to him,
act go-between; your wits
are sharper than his. It’s
your job to run him down –
I mean Mads Moen –
and sing my praises.
AASE: You can bet I will!
A testimonial
you shall have – of curses.
I’ll rake you end to end,
you imp of the fiend –
for the world to admire.
PEER: Oh, Ma!
AASE [kicking him]:
My tongue won’t tire;
I’ll make that old man set the dog
on you, as if you’d come to beg.
PEER: H’m. Think I’d best leave you here.
AASE: I’ll not stay behind.
PEER: You’ve
not the strength, my dove!
AASE: Haven’t I just!
I’ve so much rage that I could brast
rocks wi’ bare hands; I could munch flint.
Leave go of me.
PEER: Promise me, then.
AASE: I’ll promise nothing; and I mean –
when they discover you’re Peer Gynt –
to tell my tale.
PEER: No; here you stay.
AASE: Think I’m not fit for company?
PEER: You’re not invited, that’s for sure.
AASE: What are you doing?
PEER: You’ll be safe
enough here, on the millhouse roof.
Puts her up there. AASE screams.
AASE: Get me down, you churl!
PEER: I would this minute if – stay still,
don’t lie full length or kick your legs,
don’t try your strength with hapless tugs;
otherwise things may not go well;
to put it plainly, you could fall.
AASE: You beast!
PEER: Don’t struggle.
AASE: Why can’t you go
back where you came from, as changelings do?
PEER: Shame on you, mother.
AASE: Pah!
PEER: I’d rather
go with your blessing than your blather.
AASE: You, mother’s pride! I’ll tan your hide;
no matter what, you hulking brat!
PEER: Farewell for now, fair goodly dame.
[Begins to leave, but turns around and lifts a finger in warning.]
Back soon. Be patient. Do stay calm.
Exit.
AASE: Peer! God help me, he’s galloped off
across the fields. And will he heed?
No, of course not. Oh my head,
I’m dizzy! Help!
TWO WOMEN carrying sacks on their backs walk down towards the mill.
FIRST WOMAN: Who’s kicking up
that din, I wonder, raising the roof?
AASE: Here!
SECOND WOMAN: Aase? Well, you’ve surely come
up in the world for real this time!
AASE: Lord, heaven’s gate is my last hope.
When I get there …
FIRST WOMAN: God bless you, neighbour,
upwards and onwards as you labour.
AASE: Bah! Fetch a ladder; I’ll get down.
It’s my confounded son.
SECOND WOMAN: Your son?
AASE: My son. Now everyone can say
they’ve seen him at his work and play.
FIRST WOMAN: Well, count on us.
AASE: Lend me your aid
to get to Hæggstad.
SECOND WOMAN: Is he there?
FIRST WOMAN: He’ll have come-uppance, that’s for sure.
Aslak the smith will be a guest.
AASE: My lad! My lad! They’ll strike him dead!
FIRST WOMAN: It’s been arranged and much discussed.
He’ll meet with his predestined end.
SECOND WOMAN: Poor old soul’s out of her mind!
[Shouts up the hill.]
Eivind! Anders! Need you here!
A MAN’S VOICE: What’s happening?
SECOND WOMAN: It’s Peer
Gynt’s mother on the millhouse roof –
he’s put her there, the oaf!
SCENE 2
A low hill with bushes and heather. The country road runs behind it, with a fence separating them. PEER comes along a path, walks quickly up to the fence, stops and looks across to where the view opens out.
PEER: There’s the farm. I’ve made good time.
[Begins to climb over fence; then
stops to consider.]
I wonder if Ingrid
will be on her own there?
[Shades his eyes and looks into the distance.]
No; friends and kindred
are swarming all over the old place already.
Should I turn around? Go back over the ground? Well, should I?
[Swings his leg back over the fence.]
Backbiters – hordes! – will be there: they always are.
Down on your luck, they attack; it goes through you like fire.
[Takes a few steps from the fence and tears off some leaves, lost in thought.]
If only I’d brought strong spirits to drink, or could pass in a wink,
unseen by all. If my name were unknown. Yes, something strong!
Gone at a gulp! Despair’s best help. So their laughter can’t sting.
Suddenly looks around him as if frightened; then he hides among the bushes. Some people with provisions walk past on their way to Hæggstad.
A MAN [in conversation]:
’s old man was a tosspot, his mother’s a wretched creature.
A WOMAN: No wonder, then, that the lad has a skewed nature.
The people walk past. After a while PEER emerges; his face is red with shame. He looks after them.
PEER [quietly]:
Was it me that they spoke of? Well, let the slander go round,
[Makes a theatrical gesture with one arm.]
they’ll not steal what is mine, nor unbind what is bound.
[Throws himself down on the heather-covered slope and lies for a long time with his hands behind his head, gazing into space.]
What an odd cloud that cloud is! It looks like a horse
with a man on its back, and the proper tack, set on its course.
Behind, an old woman comes riding upon a new broom.
[Laughs quietly to himself.]
Good Lord! It’s my mother! My mother. From whence has she come?
Wailing and scolding, ‘You beast O you beast!’ and ‘Oh, Peer!’
[His eyes begin to close.]
My eyes I will close for a while. Ah, she melts in her fear.
Peer Gynt rides at the head of his troop; many follow his lead.
Gold shoes for his charger, a fine silver band for its head.
He’s wearing new gloves, and a sabre he has, and a sheath,
his cloak is of fine weave, lined with white silk underneath.
It is splendid, his meinie, yet none sits so tall on his mount
as this fellow does. Sun glitters, the harness bells chant!
Plain folk in dull weeds are crowding behind a low wall;
the men doff their hats, their wives and daughters turn pale,
make me low curtseys. Everyone, everyone, knows
who this emperor is – Peer Gynt – and these fine fellows
his liegemen, a thousand all told. He casts wide abroad
gold coins by the bushel: a peasant’s soon rich as a lord!
Peer Gynt, who but he?, rides over the sun-kindled sea;
the Prince of England waits at his nation’s gates
in homage. Prim English maidens cry ‘welcome’ to him.
Grand English aldermen rise from their high teas,
England’s emperor happily bows both knees,
and says …
ASLAK THE SMITH [as he and others pass by on the other side of the fence]:
Well, look’ee here, Peer Gynt, the sot!
PEER [half-rising]:
My dear Emperor! …
ASLAK [leans on the fence, smirking]:
Hey, up you get!
PEER: Aslak the smith. I might have known.
ASLAK [to the others]:
Thinks he’s still at Lunde.9 Clown!
PEER [leaps up]:
I don’t want a fight!
ASLAK: All right. But – fecks! –
where have you been these past six weeks?
Were you bewitched, or what?
PEER: Strange deeds
have I done.
ASLAK [winking at the others]:
Right, Peer, speak on!
PEER: None of your business.
ASLAK [after a pause]:
Lass that weds
today at Hæggstad, she was one
that fancied you, the folk here say.
PEER: Don’t croak at me, vile bird of prey.
ASLAK [backing off slightly]:
Easy, now! There’s tastings more
left in that pot, you can be sure.
You’re Jon Gynt’s son! Come to the farm;
plenty of mutton dressed as lamb.
PEER: You go to hell!
ASLAK: I’ll kiss the bride
for you. You’ll make some old maid glad!
They leave, laughing and whispering.
PEER [stares after them for a short time, shrugs, half turns around]:
The Hæggstad girl, for all I care,
can wed with every fellow there.
[Looks down at his clothes.]
Look at yourself – your filthy rags –
I wish you had some decent togs.
[Stamps his foot.]
Curse them! I’d like to rip
their scorn from them with my iron butcher’s grip!
[Looks round, startled.]
What’s that? Who’s there? Snigger away!
I’ll break! Is no one here but me?
I must get home
to Mother.
[Begins to walk away; stops again, listening.]
Dancing at the farm!
[Gazes and listens intently; moves forward with cautious steps; his eyes shine.]
The fiddler’s striking up. They’re doing
the halling!10 The halling –
dancing it in the yard.
A bevy of girls
watches each lad as he whirls:
that can’t be bad!
I must join in
though Mother’s squatting like a djinn
on the millhouse yet.
Ah, that Guttorm is great
with his fiddle in spate,
it sings and it leaps,
plunges into the deeps!
And the girls there, so pretty!
I will join the party!
Leaps over the fence at a bound and goes down the road.
SCENE 3
The farm enclosure at Hæggstad; the farmhouse furthest back. Many guests. There is lively dancing on a grassy slope. The FIDDLER sits on a table. The MASTER OF CEREMONIES stands in the doorway. SERVING WOMEN walk to and fro between the buildings; OLDER PEOPLE are sitting and chatting here and there.
A WOMAN [joins a group of people sitting on some logs]:
The bride? Yes, she’s sniffling a little, of course;
but I say, ignore that; it’s often a ruse.
MASTER OF CEREMONIES [in another group]:
Now, come up, good people, and help drain the keg!
A MAN: Thanks for such bounty! There’s almost too much here to swig!
A BOY [to the FIDDLER, as he flies past with a GIRL clinging to him]:
Hey-up there, Guttorm! Don’t spare the new fiddle strings!
A GIRL: Ply your bow so that now high over the meadows it sings!
SECOND GIRL [in a circle around a dancing BOY]:
That was a fine leap!
THIRD GIRL: Legs are they? Hey! they’re springs!
BOY [dancing]:
‘Here it’s high to the roof and it’s wide to the walls!’
THE BRIDEGROOM (who is MADS MOEN) approaches his FATHER, who is chatting, and tugs at his jacket. He is nearly in tears.
BRIDEGROOM: Dad, she won’t let me; it’s proud that she is!
FATHER: Won’t let you do what?
BRIDEGROOM: Door’s locked, and s
he won’t heed my calls.
Don’t know where the key is …
FATHER: Well, find it, you ninny!
Brains – haven’t you any?
He turns back and resumes his conversation. The BRIDEGROOM wanders across the yard.
A BOY [coming from behind the house]:
Things will be getting warm –
Peer Gynt’s at the farm!
ASLAK [joining in]:
Well, who invited him?
MASTER OF CEREMONIES:
No one I know of.
Goes towards the house.
ASLAK [to the GIRLS]: If he comes up, and speaks …
A GIRL [to the others]:
Ignore him, or, better, give him unfriendly looks.
PEER [enters, flushed, in high spirits, stops in front of the group and claps his hands]:
Who ‘trips the light fantastic’ best?
A GIRL [to whom he turns]:
Not me.
SECOND GIRL [likewise]:
Nor me.
THIRD GIRL: Nor me neither.
PEER [to a fourth GIRL]:
You, then, before I choose another!
FOURTH GIRL [turning away from him]:
I don’t have time.
PEER [to a fifth]:
You, then!
FIFTH GIRL [leaving]:
I’m going home.
PEER: The night is young! Madame, you jest!
ASLAK [after a pause, sotto voce]:
Look, Peer, see there! See, there she goes,
dancing around an old man’s toes!
PEER [quickly addressing an older MAN]:
Are there any still in need
of partners?
A MAN: Find them yourself, my lad.
Turns away. PEER has suddenly become quiet. He glances surreptitiously and timidly towards the group that rejected him. Everyone stares, but no one speaks. He tries approaching other groups. Whenever he comes close they fall silent. As soon as he moves off they smile and follow him with their eyes.
PEER [hushed]:
Knife-sharp their ill-will, each hateful smile;
all grates like saw-blade scraped with file.
Humiliated, he makes his way along the fence. SOLVEIG, holding little HELGA by the hand, enters the enclosure, together with her PARENTS.
FIRST MAN [to another standing not far from PEER]:
There’s those new incomers.
SECOND MAN: Out o’ the west?
FIRST MAN: Ay, from Hedalen.11
SECOND MAN: That so?
PEER [steps into the path of the newcomers, points to SOLVEIG and asks the MAN walking with her]:
May I dance
with your daughter, sir?
MAN [quietly]:
That you may. First, we must
go to the house – that’s good manners! – announce