day—my brother Peter—slow of understanding, tenacious in prejudice
[Laughter, noise, and whistling. Mrs. Stockmann coughs. Aslaksen rings violently.
The Drunken Man.
[Who has come in again.] Is it me you're alluding to? Sure enough, my name's Petersen; but devil take me if
Angry Voices.
Out with that drunken man! Turn him out!
[The man is again turned out.
Burgomaster.
Who is that person?
A Bystander.
I don't know him, Burgomaster.
Another.
He doesn't belong to the town.
A Third.
I believe he's a timber-dealer from
[The rest is inaudible.
Aslaksen.
The man was evidently intoxicated.—Continue, Dr. Stockmann; but pray endeavour to be moderate.
Dr. Stockmann.
Well, fellow citizens, I shall say no more about our leading men. If any one imagines, from what I have just said, that it's these gentlemen I want to make short work of to-night, he is mistaken—altogether mistaken. For I cherish the comfortable
