Peer Gynt E-Book

Henrik Ibsen

• Herausgeber: Charles River Editors
• Kategorie: Geisteswissenschaft
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Seitenzahl: 191

Beschreibung

Henrik Ibsen (1828-1906) was a great 19th century Norwegian playwright who was considered one of the first prominent figures of modern theatre. Ibsen wrote many famous plays but none moreso than A Dolls House which is still the worlds most performed play today.

Leseprobe

Peer Gynt

The Characters

ÅSE, a peasant’s widow.

PEER GYNT, her son.

TWO OLD WOMEN with corn-sacks.

ASLAK, a smith.

WEDDING–GUESTS.

A MASTER–COOK, A FIDDLER, etc.

A MAN AND WIFE, newcomers to the district.

SOLVEIG and LITTLE HELGA, their daughters.

THE FARMER AT HEGSTAD.

INGRID, his daughter.

THE BRIDEGROOM and His PARENTS.

THREE SAETER–GIRLS.

A GREEN–CLAD WOMAN.

THE OLD MAN OF THE DOVRE.

A TROLL–COURTIER.

SEVERAL OTHERS.

TROLL–MAIDENS and TROLL–URCHINS.

A COUPLE OF WITCHES.

BROWNIES, NIXIES, GNOMES, etc.

AN UGLY BRAT.

A VOICE IN THE DARKNESS.

BIRD–CRIES.

KARI, a cottar’s wife.

Master COTTON, Monsieur BALLON, Herren VON EBERKOPF and TRUMPETERSTRALE, gentlemen on their travels.

A THIEF and A RECEIVER.

ANITRA, daughter of a Bedouin chief.

ARABS, FEMALE SLAVES, DANCING–GIRLS, etc.

THE MEMNON–STATUE (singing).

THE SPHINX AT GIZEH (muta persona).

PROFESSOR BEGRIFFENFELDT, Dr. Phil., director of the madhouse at Cairo.

HUHU, a language-reformer from the coast of Malabar.

HUSSEIN, an eastern Minister.

A FELLAH, with a royal mummy.

SEVERAL MADMEN, with their KEEPERS.

A NORWEGIAN SKIPPER and HIS CREW.

A STRANGE PASSENGER.

A PASTOR.

A FUNERAL–PARTY.

A PARISH–OFFICER.

A BUTTON–MOULDER.

A LEAN PERSON.

[The action, which opens in the beginning of the nineteenth century, and ends around the 1860’s, takes place partly in Gudbrandsdalen, and on the mountains around it, partly on the coast of Morocco, in the desert of Sahara, in a madhouse at Cairo, at sea, etc.] 

Act First

Scene First

[A wooded hillside near ÅSE’s farm. A river rushes down the slope. On the further side of it an old mill shed. It is a hot day in summer.] 

[PEER GYNT, a strongly-built youth of twenty, comes down the pathway. His mother, ÅSE, a small, slightly built woman, follows him, scolding angrily.] 

Åse

Peer, you’re lying!

Peer [without stopping]

No, I am not!

Åse

Well then, swear that it is true!

Peer

Swear? Why should I?

Åse

See, you dare not!It’s a lie from first to last.

Peer [stopping]

It is true — each blessed word!

Åse [confronting him]

Don’t you blush before your mother?First you skulk among the mountainsmonthlong in the busiest season,stalking reindeer in the snows;home you come then, torn and tattered,gun amissing, likewise game;—and at last, with open eyes,think to get me to believeall the wildest hunters’-lies!—Well, where did you find the buck, then?

Peer

West near Gendin.

Åse [laughing scornfully]

Ah! Indeed!

Peer

Keen the blast towards me swept;hidden by an alder-clump,he was scraping in the snow-crustafter lichen —

Åse [as before]

Doubtless, yes!

Peer

Breathlessly I stood and listened,heard the crunching of his hoof,saw the branches of one antler.Softly then among the bouldersI crept forward on my belly.Crouched in the moraine I peered up;—such a buck, so sleek and fat,you, I’m sure, have ne’er set eyes on.

Åse

No, of course not!

Peer

Bang! I fired!Clean he dropped upon the hillside.But the instant that he fellI sat firm astride his back,gripped him by the left ear tightly,and had almost sunk my knife-bladein his neck, behind his skull —when, behold! the brute screamed wildly,sprang upon his feet like lightning,with a back-cast of his headfrom my fist made knife and sheath fly,pinned me tightly by the thigh,jammed his horns against my legs,clenched me like a pair of tongs;—then forthwith away he flewright along the Gendin–Edge!

Åse [involuntarily]

Jesus save us —!

Peer

Have you everchanced to see the Gendin–Edge?Nigh on four miles long it stretchessharp before you like a scythe.Down o’er glaciers, landslips, scaurs,down the toppling grey moraines,you can see, both right and left,straight into the tarns that slumber,black and sluggish, more than sevenhundred fathoms deep below you.Right along the Edge we twoclove our passage through the air.Never rode I such a colt!Straight before us as we rushed’twas as though there glittered suns.Brown-backed eagles that were sailingin the wide and dizzy voidhalf-way ’twixt us and the tarns,dropped behind, like motes in air.Ice-floes on the shores broke crashing,but no murmur reached my ears.Only sprites of dizziness sprang,dancing, round;— they sang, they swung,circle-wise, past sight and hearing!

ÅSE [dizzy]

Oh, God save me!

Peer

All at once,at a desperate, break-neck spot,rose a great cock-ptarmigan,flapping, cackling, terrified,from the crack where he lay hiddenat the buck’s feet on the Edge.Then the buck shied half around,leapt sky-high, and down we plungedboth of us into the depths!

[ÅSE totters, and catches at the trunk of a tree. PEER GYNT continues:] 

Mountain walls behind us, black,and below a void unfathomed!First we clove through banks of mist,then we clove a flock of sea-gulls,so that they, in mid-air startled,flew in all directions, screaming.Downward rushed we, ever downward.But beneath us something shimmered,whitish, like a reindeer’s belly.—Mother, ’twas our own reflectionin the glass-smooth mountain tarn,shooting up towards the surfacewith the same wild rush of speedwherewith we were shooting downwards.

Åse [gasping for breath]

Peer! God help me —! Quickly, tell —!

Peer

Buck from over, buck from under,in a moment clashed together,scattering foam-flecks all around.There we lay then, floating, plashing,—But at last we made our waysomehow to the northern shore;buck, he swam, I clung behind him:—I ran homewards —

Åse

But the buck, dear?

Peer

He’s there still, for aught I know;—

[Snaps his fingers, turns on his heel, and adds:] 

catch him, and you’re welcome to him!

Åse

And your neck you haven’t broken?Haven’t broken both your thighs?and your backbone, too, is whole?Oh, dear Lord — what thanks, what praise,should be thine who helped my boy!There’s a rent, though, in your breeches;but it’s scarce worth talking ofwhen one thinks what dreadful thingsmight have come of such a leap —!

[Stops suddenly, looks at him open-mouthed and wide-eyed; cannot find words for some time, but at last bursts out:] 

Oh, you devil’s story-teller,Cross of Christ, how you can lie!All this screed you foist upon me,I remember now, I knew itwhen I was a girl of twenty.Gudbrand Glesne it befell,never you, you —

Peer

Me as well.Such a thing can happen twice.

Åse [exasperated]

Yes, a lie, turned topsy-turvy,can be prinked and tinselled out,decked in plumage new and fine,till none knows its lean old carcass.That is just what you’ve been doing,vamping up things, wild and grand,garnishing with eagles’ backsand with all the other horrors,lying right and lying left,filling me with speechless dread,till at last I recognised notwhat of old I’d heard and known!

Peer

If another talked like thatI’d half kill him for his pains.

Åse [weeping]

Oh, would God I lay a corpse;would the black earth held me sleeping!Prayers and tears don’t bite upon him.—Peer, you’re lost, and ever will be!

Peer

Darling, pretty little mother,you are right in every word;—don’t be cross, be happy —

Åse

Silence!Could I, if I would, be happy,with a pig like you for son?Think how bitter I must find it,I, a poor defenceless widow,ever to be put to shame!

[Weeping again.] 

How much have we now remainingfrom your grandsire’s days of glory?Where are now the sacks of coinleft behind by Rasmus Gynt?Ah, your father lent them wings,—lavished them abroad like sand,buying land in every parish,driving round in gilded chariots.Where is all the wealth he wastedat the famous winter-banquet,when each guest sent glass and bottleshivering ’gainst the wall behind him?

Peer

Where’s the snow of yester-year?

Åse

Silence, boy, before your mother!See the farmhouse! Every secondwindow-pane is stopped with clouts.Hedges, fences, all are down,beasts exposed to wind and weather,fields and meadows lying fallow,every month a new distraint —

Peer

Come now, stop this old-wife’s talk!Many a time has luck seemed dropping,and sprung up as high as ever!

Åse

Salt-strewn is the soil it grew from.Lord, but you’re a rare one, you,—just as pert and jaunty still,just as bold as when the pastor,newly come from Copenhagen,bade you tell your Christian name,and declared that such a headpiecemany a prince down there might envy;till the cob your father gave him,with a sledge to boot, in thanksfor his pleasant, friendly talk.—Ah, but things went bravely then!Provost, captain, all the rest,dropped in daily, ate and drank,swilling, till they well-nigh burst.But ’tis need that tests one’s neighbour.Still it grew and empty herefrom the day that “Gold-bag Jon”started with his pack, a pedlar.

[Dries her eyes with her apron.] 

Ah, you’re big and strong enough,you should be a staff and pillarfor your mother’s frail old age,—you should keep the farm-work going,guard the remnants of your gear;—

[Crying again.] 

oh, God help me, small’s the profityou have been to me, you scamp!Lounging by the hearth at home,grubbing in the charcoal embers;or, round all the country, frighteninggirls away from merry-makings —shaming me in all directions,fighting with the worst rapscallions —

Peer [turning away from her]

Let me be.

Åse [following him]

Can you denythat you were the foremost brawlerin the mighty battle royalfought the other day at Lunde,when you raged like mongrels mad?Who was it but you that brokeBlacksmith Aslak’s arm for him,—or at any rate that wrenched oneof his fingers out of joint?

Peer

Who has filled you with such prate?

ÅSE [hotly]

Cottar Kari heard the yells!

Peer [rubbing his elbow]

Maybe, but ’twas I that howled.

Åse

You?

Peer

Yes, mother,— I got beaten.

Åse

What d’you say?

Peer

He’s limber, he is.

Åse

Who?

Peer

Why Aslak, to be sure.

Åse

Shame — and shame; I spit upon you!Such a worthless sot as that,such a brawler, such a soddendram-sponge to have beaten you!

[Weeping again.] 

Many a shame and slight I’ve suffered;but that this should come to passis the worst disgrace of all.What if he be ne’er so limber,need you therefore be a weakling?

Peer

Though I hammer or am hammered,—still we must have lamentations.

[Laughing.] 

Cheer up, mother —

Åse

What? You’re lyingnow again?

Peer

Yes, just this once.Come now, wipe your tears away;—

[Clenching his left hand.] 

see,— with this same pair of tongs,thus I held the smith bent double,while my sledge-hammer right fist —

Åse

Oh, you brawler! You will bring mewith your doings to the grave!

Peer

No, you’re worth a better fate;better twenty thousand times!Little, ugly, dear old mother,you may safely trust my word,—all the parish shall exalt you;only wait till I have donesomething — something really grand!

Åse [contemptuously]

You!

Peer

Who knows what may befall one!

Åse

Would you’d get so far in senseone day as to do the darningof your breeches for yourself!

Peer [hotly]

I will be a king, a kaiser!

Åse

Oh, God comfort me, he’s losingall the wits that he had left!

Peer

Yes, I will! just give me time!

Åse

Give you time, you’ll be a prince,so the saying goes, I think!

Peer

You shall see!

Åse

Oh, hold your tongue!You’re as mad as mad can be.—Ah, and yet it’s true enough,—something might have come of you,had you not been steeped for everin your lies and trash and moonshine.Hegstad’s girl was fond of you.Easily you could have won herhad you wooed her with a will —

Peer

Could I?

Åse

The old man’s too feeblenot to give his child her way.He is stiff-necked in a fashionbut at last ’tis Ingrid rules;and where she leads, step by step,stumps the gaffer, grumbling, after.

[Begins to cry again.] 

Ah, my Peer!— a golden girl —land entailed on her! just think,had you set your mind upon it,you’d be now a bridegroom brave,—you that stand here grimed and tattered!

Peer [briskly]

Come, we’ll go a-wooing, then!

Åse

Where?

Peer

At Hegstad!

Åse

Ah, poor boy;Hegstad way is barred to wooers!

Peer

How is that?

Åse

Ah, I must sigh!Lost the moment, lost the luck —

Peer

Speak!

Åse [sobbing]

While in the Wester-hillsyou in air were riding reindeer,here Mads Moen’s won the girl!

Peer

What! That women’s-bugbear! He —!

Åse

Ay, she’s taking him for husband.

Peer

Wait you here till I have harnessedhorse and waggon —

[Going.] 

Åse

Spare your pains.They are to be wed to-morrow —

Peer

Pooh; this evening I’ll be there!

Åse

Fie now! Would you crown our miserieswith a load of all men’s scorn?

Peer

Never fear; ’twill all go well.

[Shouting and laughing at the same time.] 

Mother, jump! We’ll spare the waggon;’twould take time to fetch the mare up —

[Lifts her up in his arms.] 

Åse

Put me down!

Peer

No, in my armsI will bear you to the wedding!

[Wades out into the stream.] 

Åse

Help! The Lord have mercy on us!Peer! We’re drowning —

Peer

I was bornfor a braver death —

Åse

Ay, true;sure enough you’ll hang at last!

[Tugging at his hair.] 

Oh, you brute!

Peer

Keep quiet now;here the bottom’s slippery-slimy.

Åse

Ass!

Peer

That’s right, don’t spare your tongue;that does no one any harm.Now it’s shelving up again —

Åse

Don’t you drop me!

Peer

Heisan! Hop!Now we’ll play at Peer and reindeer;—

[Curvetting.] 

I’m the reindeer, you are Peer!

Åse

Oh, I’m going clean distraught!

Peer

There see; now we’ve reached the shallows;—

[Wades ashore.] 

come, a kiss now, for the reindeer;just to thank him for the ride —

Åse [boxing his ears]

This is how I thank him!

Peer

Ow!That’s a miserable fare!

Åse

Put me down!

Peer

First to the wedding.Be my spokesman. You’re so clever;talk to him, the old curmudgeon;say Mads Moen’s good for nothing —

Åse

Put me down!

Peer

And tell him thenwhat a rare lad is Peer Gynt.

Åse

Truly, you may swear to that!Fine’s the character I’ll give you.Through and through I’ll show you up;all about your devil’s pranksI will tell them straight and plain —

Peer

Will you?

Åse [kicking with rage]

I won’t stay my tonguetill the old man sets his dogat you, as you were a tramp!

Peer

Hm; then I must go alone.

Åse

Ay, but I’ll come after you!

Peer

Mother dear, you haven’t strength —

Åse

Strength? When I’m in such a rage,I could crush the rocks to powder!Hu! I’d make a meal of flints!Put me down!

Peer

You’ll promise then —

Åse

Nothing! I’ll to Hegstad with you!They shall know you, what you are!

Peer

Then you’ll even have to stay here.

Åse

Never! To the feast I’m coming!

Peer

That you shan’t.

Åse

What will you do?

Peer

Perch you on the mill-house roof.

[He puts her up on the roof. ÅSE screams.] 

Åse

Lift me down!

Peer

Yes, if you’ll listen —

Åse

Rubbish!

Peer

Dearest mother, pray —!

Åse [throwing a sod of grass at him]

Lift me down this moment, Peer!

Peer

If I dared, be sure I would.

[Coming nearer.] 

Now remember, sit quite still.Do not sprawl and kick about;do not tug and tear the shingles,—else ’twill be the worse for you;you might topple down.

Åse

You beast!

Peer

Do not kick!

Åse

I’d have you blown,like a changeling, into space!

Peer

Mother, fie!

Åse

Bah!

Peer

Rather give yourblessing on my undertaking.Will you? Eh?

Åse

I’ll thrash you soundly,hulking fellow though you be!

Peer

Well, good-bye then, mother dear!Patience; I’ll be back ere long.

[Is going, but turns, holds up his finger warningly, and says:] 

Careful now, don’t kick and sprawl!

[Goes.] 

Åse

Peer!— God help me, now he’s off;Reindeer-rider! Liar! Hei!Will you listen!— No, he’s stridingo’er the meadow —! [Shrieks.] Help! I’m dizzy!

[TWO OLD WOMEN, with sacks on their backs, come down the path to the mill.] 

First Woman

Christ, who’s screaming?

Åse

It is I!

Second Woman

Åse! Well, you are exalted!

Åse

This won’t be the end of it;—soon, God help me, I’ll be heaven-high!

First Woman

Bless your passing!

Åse

Fetch a ladder;I must be down! That devil Peer —

Second Woman

Peer! Your son?

Åse

Now you can sayyou have seen how he behaves.

First Woman

We’ll bear witness.

Åse

Only help me;straight to Hegstad I will hasten —

Second Woman

Is he there?

First Woman

You’ll be revenged, then;Aslak Smith will be there too.

Åse [wringing her hands]

Oh, God help me with my boy;they will kill him ere they’re done!

First Woman

Oh, that lot has oft been talked of;comfort you: what must be must be!

Second Woman

She is utterly demented.

[Calls up the hill.] 

Eivind, Anders! Hei! Come here!

A Man’s Voice

What’s amiss?

Second Woman

Peer Gynt has perched hismother on the mill-house roof!

Scene Second

[A hillock, covered with bushes and heather. The highroad runs behind it; a fence between.] 

[PEER GYNT comes along a footpath, goes quickly up to the fence, stops, and looks out over the stretch of country below.] 

Peer

There it lies, Hegstad. Soon I’ll have reached it.

[Puts one leg over the fence; then hesitates.] 

Wonder if Ingrid’s alone in the house now?

[Shades his eyes with his hand, and looks out.] 

No; to the farm guests are swarming like gnats.—Hm, to turn back now perhaps would be wisest.

[Draws back his leg.] 

Still they must titter behind your back,and whisper so that it burns right through you.

[Moves a few steps away from the fence, and begins absently plucking leaves.] 

Ah, if I’d only a good strong dram now.Or if I could pass to and fro unseen.—Or were I unknown.— Something proper and strongwere the best thing of all, for the laughter don’t bite then.

[Looks around suddenly as though afraid; then hides among the bushes. Some WEDDING–GUESTS pass by, going downwards towards the farm.] 

A Man [in conversation as they pass]

His father was drunken, his mother is weak.

A Woman

Ay, then it’s no wonder the lad’s good for nought.

[They pass on. Presently PEER GYNT comes forward, his face flushed with shame. He peers after them.] 

Peer [softly]

Was it me they were talking of?

[With a forced shrug.] 

Oh, let them chatter!After all, they can’t sneer the life out of my body.

[Casts himself down upon the heathery slope; lies for some time flat on his back with his hands under his head, gazing up into the sky.] 

What a strange sort of cloud! It is just like a horse.There’s a man on it too — and saddle — and bridle.—And after it comes an old crone on a broomstick.

[Laughs quietly to himself.] 

It is mother. She’s scolding and screaming: You beast!Hei you, Peer Gynt — [His eyes gradually close.] Ay, nowshe is frightened.—Peer Gynt he rides first, and there follow him many.—His steed it is gold-shod and crested with silver.Himself he has gauntlets and sabre and scabbard.His cloak it is long, and its lining is silken.Full brave is the company riding behind him.None of them, though, sits his charger so stoutly.None of them glitters like him in the sunshine.—Down by the fence stand the people in clusters,lifting their hats, and agape gazing upwards.Women are curtseying. All the world knows him,Kaiser Peer Gynt, and his thousands of henchmen.Sixpenny pieces and glittering shillingsover the roadway he scatters like pebbles.Rich as a lord grows each man in the parish.High o’er the ocean Peer Gynt goes a-riding.Engelland’s Prince on the seashore awaits him;there too await him all Engelland’s maidens.Engelland’s nobles and Engelland’s Kaiser,see him come riding and rise from their banquet.Raising his crown, hear the Kaiser address him —

Aslak The Smith [to some other young men, passing along the road]

Just look at Peer Gynt there, the drunken swine —!

Peer [starting half up]

What, Kaiser —!

The Smith [leaning against the fence and grinning]

Up with you, Peer, my lad!

Peer

What the devil? The smith? What do you want here?

The Smith [to the others]

He hasn’t got over the Lunde-spree yet.

Peer [jumping up]

You’d better be off!

The Smith

I am going, yes.But tell us, where have you dropped from, man?You’ve been gone six weeks. Were you troll-taken, eh?

Peer

I have been doing strange deeds, Aslak Smith!

The Smith [winking to the others]

Let us hear them, Peer!

Peer

They are nought to you.

The Smith [after a pause]

You’re going to Hegstad?

Peer

No.

The Smith

Time wasthey said that the girl there was fond of you.

Peer

You grimy crow —!

The Smith [falling back a little]

Keep your temper, Peer!Though Ingrid has jilted you, others are left;—think — son of Jon Gynt! Come on to the feast;you’ll find there both lambkins and widows well on —

Peer

To hell —!

The Smith

You will surely find one that will have you.—Good evening! I’ll give your respects to the bride.—

[They go off, laughing and whispering.] 

Peer [looks after them a while, then makes a defiant motion and turns half round]

For my part, may Ingrid of Hegstad go marrywhoever she pleases. It’s all one to me.

[Looks down at his clothes.] 

My breeches are torn. I am ragged and grim.—If only I had something new to put on now.

[Stamps on the ground.] 

If only I could, with a butcher-grip,tear out the scorn from their very vitals!

[Looks round suddenly.] 

What was that? Who was it that tittered behind there?Hm, I certainly thought — No no, it was no one.—I’ll go home to mother.

[Begins to go upwards, but stops again and listens towards Hegstad.] 

They’re playing a dance!

[Gazes and listens; moves downwards step by step, his eyes glisten; he rubs his hands down his thighs.] 

How the lasses do swarm! Six or eight to a man!Oh, galloping death,— I must join in the frolic!—But how about mother, perched up on the mill-house —

[His eyes are drawn downwards again; he leaps and laughs.] 

Hei, how the Halling flies over the green!Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out!It gurgles and booms like a foss o’er a scaur.And then all that glittering bevy of girls!—Yes, galloping death, I must join in the frolic!

[Leaps over the fence and goes down the road.] 

Scene Third

[The farm-place at Hegstad. In the background, the dwelling-house. A THRONG OF GUESTS. A lively dance in progress on the green. THE FIDDLER sits on a table. THE MASTER–COOK is standing in the doorway. COOKMAIDS are going to and fro between the different buildings Groups of ELDERLY PEOPLE sit here and there, talking.] 

A Woman [joins a group that is seated on some logs of wood]

The bride? Oh yes, she is crying a bit;but that, you know, isn’t worth heeding.

The Master-cook [in another group]

Now then, good folk, you must empty the barrel.

A Man

Thanks to you, friend; but you fill up too quick.

A Lad [to the FIDDLER as he flies past, holding A GIRL by the hand]

To it now, Guttorm, and don’t spare the fiddlestrings!

The Girl

Scrape till it echoes out over the meadows!

Other Girls [standing in a ring round a lad who is dancing]

That’s a rare fling!

A Girl

He has legs that can lift him!

The Lad [dancing]

The roof here is high, and the walls wide asunder!

The Bridegroom [comes whimpering up to his FATHER, who is standing talking with some other men, and twitches his jacket]

Father, she will not; she is so proud!

His Father

What won’t she do?

The Bridegroom

She has locked herself in.

His Father

Well, you must manage to find the key.

The Bridegroom

I don’t know how.

His Father

You’re a nincompoop!

[Turns away to the others. The BRIDEGROOM drifts across the yard.] 

A Lad [comes from behind the house]

Wait a bit, girls! Things’ll soon be lively!Here comes Peer Gynt.

The Smith [who has just come up]

Who invited him?

The Master-cook

No one.

[Goes towards the house.] 

The Smith [to the girls]