Begriffenfeldt.
[Holding him back.]
I meant like an eel;—
It was not like a fox. A needle through his eye;—
And he writhed on the wall
Peer.
Where can rescue be found?
Begriffenfeldt.
A snick round his neck, and whip! out of his skin
Peer
He's raving! He's utterly out of his wits!
Begriffenfeldt.
Now it's patent, and can't be dissimulated,
That this from-himself-going must have for result
A complete revolution by sea and land.
The persons one hitherto reckoned as mad,
You see, became normal last night at eleven,
Accordant with Reason in its newest phase.
And more, if the matter be rightly regarded,
It's patent that, at the aforementioned hour,
The sane folks, so called, began forthwith to rave.
Peer.
You mentioned the hour, sir; my time is but scant
Begriffenfeldt.
Your time, did you say? There you jog my remembrance!
[Opens a door and calls out.
Come forth all! The time that shall be is proclaimed!
Reason is dead and gone; long live Peer Gynt!
