PEER
My little friend,
you, like other maidens, judge
great men by their outsides only.
I am full of jest at bottom,
most of all when we’re alone.
I am forced by my position
to assume a solemn mask.
Duties of the day constrain me;
all the reckonings and worry
that I have with one and all,
make me oft a cross-grained prophet;
but it’s only from the tongue out.—
Fudge, avaunt! En tete-a-tete
I’m Peer — well, the man I am.
Hei, away now with the prophet;
me, myself, you have me here!
[Seats himself under a tree, and draws her to him.]
Come, Anitra, we will rest us
underneath the palm’s green fan-shade!
I’ll lie whispering, you’ll lie smiling;
afterwards our roles exchange we;
then shall your lips, fresh and balmy,
to my smiling, passion whisper!