O'er the world, and will baptize to liberty
The beautiful, thrall-bounden coasts that shall be.
I must on! To find capital, eastward or west!
My kingdom—well, half of it, say—for a horse!
[The horse in the cleft neighs.
A horse! Ay, and robes!—Jewels too,—and a sword! [Goes closer. It can't be! It is though! But how? I have read, I don't quite know where, that the will can move mountains;— But how about moving a horse as well? Pooh! Here stands the horse, that's a matter of fact;— For the rest, why, ab esse ad posse, et cetera.
[Puts on the dress and looks down at it.
Sir Peter—a Turk, too, from top to toe! Well, one never knows what may happen to one.— Gee-up, now, Granë, my trusty steed!
[Mounts the horse.
Gold-slipper stirrups beneath my feet!— You may know the great by their riding-gear!
[Gallops off into the desert.
SCENE SIXTH. The tent of an Arab chief, standing alone on an oasis.
Peer Gynt, in his eastern dress, resting on cushions. He is drinking coffee, and smoking a long pipe. Anitra, and a bevy of Girls, dancing and singing before him.
Chorus of Girls.
The Prophet is come!
The Prophet, the Lord, the All-Knowing One,
