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But only of this and that,—
Forget what's awry and crooked,
And all that is sharp and sore.—
Why see now, the same old pussy
So she is alive then, still?
Åse.
She makes such a noise o' nights now;
You know what that bodes, my boy!
Peer.
Changing the subject.]
What news is there here in the parish?
Åse.
[Smiling.]
There's somewhere about, they say,
A girl who would fain to the uplands
Peer.
[Hastily.]
Mads Moen, is he content?
Åse.
They say that she hears and heeds not
The old people's prayers and tears.
You ought to look in and see them;—
You, Peer, might perhaps bring help
Peer.
The smith, what's become of him now?
Åse.
Don't talk of that filthy smith.
