I shall crawl in under a wind-fallen tree;
Like the bear, I will heap up a leaf-mound above me,
And I’ll scratch in big print on the bark of the tree:
Here rests Peer Gynt, that decent soul
Kaiser o’er all of the other beasts.—
Kaiser?
[Laughs inwardly.
Why, you old soothsayer’s-dupe!
No Kaiser are you; you are nought but an onion.
I’m going to peel you now, my good Peer!