SCENE NINTH.
The same place, an hour later.
Peer Gynt is stripping off his Turkish costume, soberly and thoughtfully, bit by bit. Last of all, he takes his little travelling-cap out of his coat pocket, puts it on, and stands once more in European dress.
Peer.
[Throwing the turban far away from him.]
There lies the Turk, then, and here stand I!—
These heathenish doings are no sort of good.
It’s lucky ’twas only a matter of clothes,
And not, as the saying goes, bred in the bone.—
What tempted me into that galley at all?