Nille (alone)—I don't believe there is such a lazy rascal in the whole district as my husband. I can hardly wake him up when I pull him out of bed by the hair. To-day the rascal knows that it is market day, but still he lies and sleeps so long. Herr Paul said to me lately, "Nille, you are too hard on your husband. He is and ought to be master of the household." But I answered him, "No, my dear Herr Paul, if I should let him boss this house for a single year then neither the landlord would get his rent nor the rector his fee, since he would squander in drink all that I have in the house. Should I let such a man rule this household, who is ready to sell farm, wife, children—yes, even himself—for drink?" Whereupon Herr Paul became silent and thoughtfully stroked his chin. The overseer of the estate sides with me and says, "Little woman, don't you mind what the preacher says. Although the ritual says that you must honor and obey your husband, your lease, which is newer than the ritual, says that you must keep up your place and pay your rent, which it would be impossible for you to do if you did not drag your old man out of bed by the hair every morning and drive him to work." Just now I jerked him out of bed and went out to the barn to see how the work was getting on, and when I came back he was sitting with his trousers over one leg, and so the switch had to be taken off the peg and my good old Jeppe dressed down until he became quite awake again. The only thing he is afraid of is Master Erick, (that is what I call the switch.) Hey, Jeppe, aren't you up yet, you lazy bones? Would you like to speak with Master Erik once more? Hey, Jeppe, come out!
Scene 2.
Jeppe—I must have time to put on my clothes, mustn't I? You don't want me to come out like a pig without trousers and without coat.
Nille—Haven't you had time, you wretch, to put on ten pairs of trousers since I woke you up this morning?
Jeppe (cautiously)—Have you put Master Erik away, Nille?
Nille—Yes, I have, but I know where I can find him again, if you don't get around in a hurry. Come here! See how he crawls along! Come here! You've got to go to town to buy two pounds of soft soap; here is the money. But listen! If you are not back again inside of four hours Master Erik shall dance a polka on your back.
Jeppe—How can I walk four miles in four hours?
Nille—Who says you are to walk, you rascal? You shall run! I have told you what to do once, now do as you please.
Scene 3.
Jeppe (alone)—There that sow goes in to eat breakfast, and I, poor man, must walk four miles before I can get anything to eat; can anyone have such a damned woman as I have? I really believe she is a cousin to Lucifer. Folks around here say that Jeppe drinks, but they don't say why Jeppe drinks; why, I never got so many poundings in the ten years I was in the army as I get every day from that awful woman. She pounds me, the overseer drives me to work like a beast; and the sexton pays court to my wife. Mustn't I drink, mustn't I use all the means nature has given us to drive away sorrow? If I were a fool, such things wouldn't trouble me so much, and then I wouldn't drink; but it is certain that I am a clever man, and therefore I feel such things more than others, so I must drink. My neighbor, Mo'ns Christopherson, often tells me, as he is my friend: "Confound you, Jeppe, why don't you defend yourself, then the old woman will come to her senses." But I can't strike back for three reasons. First, because I haven't any courage; second, because of that damned Master Erik hanging behind the bed, which my back cannot think of without crying; third, because I am, if I do say it myself, a good sort of soul and a good Christian, who never seeks revenge. I am so kind-hearted that I have never even wished that the old woman would die. On the contrary, when she lay sick of jaundice last year, I wished that she would live; for, as hell is already full of bad women, Lucifer would probably send her back, and then she would be still worse than before. But if the sexton died, then I would be glad, for my own sake as well as for others; since he does me only harm and is of no use to the congregation. He is an ignorant devil, for he has no voice at all for singing, nor can he cast an honest wax candle. No, then his predecessor, Christopher, was a different sort of a person. He beat twelve sextons at singing in his day, such a voice had he. One time I got into a quarrel with the deacon, while Nille was listening, and when he scolded me for being run by my wife, I said: "The devil take you, Sexton Mads." But what happened? Master Erik was taken from the wall to settle the quarrel and my back got so sore that I had to beg the sexton's pardon and thank him, mind you, that he, a learned man, would honor my house by his visits. Since that time I have never thought of making any opposition. Oh, yes, yes, Mo'ns Christopherson! You and other peasants whose wives have no Master Erik hanging behind the bed, can talk like that. If I had a single wish in the world it would be either that my wife had no arms or I no back; since she may use her tongue as much as she likes. But I'll have to stop in at Jakob Skomager's on the way. He'll give me a penny's worth of brandy on credit all right; for I must have something to quench my thirst. Hey, Jakob Skomager! Are you up yet? Open the door, Jakob!