Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 4).djvu/278

We're both in a hurry, and so, to save time,
I'll explain the reason of the whole affair.
You are, with your own lips you told me so,
No sinner on the so-called heroic scale,—
Scarce middling even——

Peer.

                         Ah, now you're beginning
To talk common sense——

The Button-moulder.

                         Just have patience a bit—
But to call you a good man were going too far.—

Peer.

Well, you know I have never laid claim to that.

The Button-moulder.

You're nor one thing nor t'other then, only so-so.
A sinner of really grandiose style
Is nowadays not to be met on the highways.
It wants much more than merely to wallow in mire;
For both vigour and earnestness go to a sin.

Peer.

Ay, it's very true that remark of yours;
One has to lay on, like the old Berserkers.

The Button-moulder.

You, friend, on the other hand, took your sin lightly.

Peer.

Only outwardly, friend, like a splash of mud.

The Button-moulder.

Ah, we'll soon be at one now. The sulphur pool
Is no place for you, who but plashed in the mire.