Are you there again? This is most accursëd!
Now they're throwing fruit. No, it's something else.
A loathsome beast is your Barbary ape!
The Scripture says: Thou shalt watch and fight.
But I'm blest if I can; I am heavy and tired,
[Is again attacked; impatiently:
I must put a stopper upon this nuisance! I must see and get hold of one of these scamps, Get him hung and skinned, and then dress myself up, As best I may, in his shaggy hide, That the others may take me for one of themselves.— What are we mortals? Motes, no more; And it's wisest to follow the fashion a bit.— Again a rabble! They throng and swarm. Off with you! Shoo! They go on as though crazy. If only I had a false tail to put on now,— Only something to make me a bit like a beast.— What now? There's a pattering over my head! [Looks up. It's the grandfather ape,—with his fists full of filth!
[Huddles together apprehensively, and keeps still for a while. The ape makes a motion; Peer Gynt begins coaxing and wheedling him, as he might a dog.
Ay,—are you there, my good old Bus!
He's a good beast, he is! He will listen to reason!
He wouldn't throw;—I should think not, indeed!
It is me! Pip-pip! We are first-rate friends!
Ai-ai! Don't you hear, I can talk your language?
Bus and I, we are kinsfolk, you see;—
