SCENE FIFTH.

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?[son?]

Peer.

Yes.

The Green-clad One.

I’m the Dovrë-King’s daughter.

Peer.

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

The Green-clad One.

Deep in the Rondë 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 Brosë.[[50]]

Peer.

Do you know my mother? Her name is Queen Åsë.

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.[[51]]

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 Rondë-folk’s use and wont:

All our possessions have two-fold form.

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 it’s[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! 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!