Solveig.
Father, most.
Peer.
Father? Ay, ay; he is one of the quiet ones!
One of the godly, eh?—Answer, come!
Solveig.
What shall I say?
Peer.
Is your father a psalm-singer?[1]
And you and your mother as well, no doubt?
Come, will you speak?
Solveig.
Let me go in peace.
Peer.
No! [In a low but sharp and threatening tone.
I can turn myself into a troll!
I'll come to your bedside at midnight to-night.
If you should hear some one hissing and spitting,
You mustn't imagine it's only the cat.
It's me, lass! I'll drain out your blood in a cup,
And your little sister, I'll eat her up;
Ay, you must know I'm a were-wolf at night;—
I'll bite you all over the loins and the back
[Suddenly changes his tone, and entreats, as
if in dread:
Dance with me, lass!
Solveig.
[Looking darkly at him.]
You were ugly then.
[Goes into the house
- ↑ Literally, "A reader."
