Out and in, and it's just as strait. [Stops. No!—like a wild, an unending lament, Is the thought: to come back, to go in, to go home.
[Takes a few steps on, but stops again.
Round about, said the Boyg!
[Hears singing in the hut.
Ah no; this time at least Right through, though the path may be never so strait!
[He runs towards the hut; at the same moment Solveig appears in the doorway, dressed for church, with a psalm-book wrapped in a kerchief, and a staff in her hand. She stands there erect and mild.
Peer.
[Flings himself down on the threshold.]
Hast thou doom for a sinner, then speak it forth! Solveig. He is here! He is here! Oh, to God be the praise!
[Stretches out her arms as though groping for him.
Peer.
Cry out all my sins and my trespasses!
Solveig.
In nought hast thou sinned, oh my own only boy.
[Gropes for him again, and finds him
The Button-moulder.
[Behind the house.]
The sin-list, Peer Gynt?
