Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 3).djvu/207

The Schoolmaster.

We cannot fitly condescend
To smirch ourselves in human slime.
Let no man, says the Parson, dare
To be two things at the same time;
And, with the best will, no one can
Be an official and a man;
Our part in all things is, to swear
By our great exemplar—the Mayor.

The Sexton.

Why just by him?

The Schoolmaster.

                 Do you recall
The fire that wreck'd his house, and yet
The deeds were rescued, one and all?

The Sexton.

It was an evening——

The Schoolmaster.

                     Wild and wet,
And like ten toiling men toiled he;
But indoors stood the Devil in glee
Guffawing, and his wife shriek'd out:
"O save your soul, sweet husband! See,
Satan will have you!" Then a shout
Rang backward through the surging vapours:
"My soul may go to hell for me;
Just lend a hand to save the papers!"
Look, that's a Mayor—without, within!
From top to toe, from core to skin;
He'll win his way, I'm certain, yonder,
Where his life's toil shall have its price.