The Kitchen-master.
[To Peer Gynt, offering him drink.]
Since you are here, you'd best take a pull at the liquor. Peer.
[Looking fixedly after the new-comers.]
Thanks; I'm for dancing; I am not athirst.
[The Kitchen-master goes away from him. Peer Gynt gazes towards the house and laughs.
How fair! Did ever you see the like!
Looked down at her shoes and her snow-white apron—!
And then she held on to her mother's skirt-folds,
And carried a psalm-book wrapped up in a kerchief—!
I must look at that girl.
[Going into the house.
A Lad.
[Coming out of the house, with several others.]
Are you off so soon, Peer, From the dance? Peer. No, no. The Lad. Then you're heading amiss!
[Takes hold of his shoulder to turn him round.
Peer.
Let me pass!
The Lad.
I believe you're afraid of the smith.
