cepting (and wearing) every cross and star that was offered to him. At this date, no doubt, the temptation was wholly problematical in both cases, yet each poet acted on his determination to the end. But Björnson’s hint about the comedy seems to have been, for some years, the last flicker of friendship between the two. On this Ibsen presently acted in a manner very offensive to Björnson.
In March, 1868, Ibsen was beginning to be very much indeed incensed with things in general. “What Norway wants is a national disaster,” he amiably snarled. It was high time that the badger should seek shelter in a new burrow, and in May we find him finally quitting Rome. There was a farewell banquet, at which Julius Lange, who was present, remarks that Ibsen showed a spice of the devil, but “was very witty and amiable.” He went to Florence for June, then quitted Italy altogether, settling for three months at Berchtesgaden, the romantic little “sunbath” in the Salzburg Alps, then still very quiet and unfashionable. There he started his five-act comedy, The League of Youth. All September he spent in Munich, and in October, 1868, took root once more, this time at Dresden, which be- came his home for a considerable number of years. Almost at once he sank down again into
