OLD MAN. In lust!
PEHR. What is that?—Ah! Now look up there, at the gable window, with the single light—
OLD MAN. Prompted by caution, which demands darkness—
PEHR. By the glow of contentment's calm light—
OLD MAN. Which they stole from the spice stall, and their delight is in planning the next expedition to the city market. I know it, do you hear! And up there, in the palace, where the lights glisten by the thousands and mirror themselves in the wines' sour streams—there they roll—empty heads and empty hearts—who say that they think and feel for the people's welfare! There they roll, between bottles and dishes—
PEHR. Why do you talk so fast? Let me continue—
OLD MAN. No! Away with you and obey, boy!
PEHR. Yes, away from here! I want to go out and see the world. I want to see child-faces—even if they can be clouded by envy's cankerworm! I want to taste the fruit of the tropics even if it is worm-eaten! I would drink the wine though it were gall, and I want to put my arm around a maid's waist, even if a bankrupt father does sit at the hearth stone! I want silver and gold—if in the end it is nothing but dross!
OLD MAN. Hell-fire! who's been here?
A VOICE. Curse not Christmas!