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.