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In 1862, he began a series of satirical and philosophical dramas with Kjaerlighedens Komedie, "Love's Comedy," which was succeeded by two masterpieces of a similar kind, Brand, in 1866, and Peer Gynt, in 1867.
Though you may think that I might love to all extremes, surely, having known me so many years, you cannot think that I would lie even for my love's sake." The old man looked wildly round, and shook his head. "In his room and in his arms," he said. "I saw it, it seems.
Their radiant beauty under their white hair came from the light which yet filled their eyes, the light of love's power, which age had been unable to extinguish. Doubtless, as they themselves jestingly remarked at times, they had been prodigals, their family had been such a large one. But, after all, had they not been right?
Out of the little logic I had picked up at Oxford I tried to explain to him the process known as sorites; and suggested that Captain Pomery, while tolerant of "I attempt from Love's sickness to fly" up to the hundredth repetition, might conceivably show signs of tiring at the hundred-and-first.
Between 'Love's Comedy' and the 'League of Youth' he put forth his two great dramatic poems, 'Brand' and 'Peer Gynt' ; and even after the 'League of Youth' had opened the series of modern social dramas, he published 'Emperor and Galilean' before resuming his incisive study of the life that lay around him.
In a blessed love-dream, he had been led to a garden where, beneath a miraculous tree, he had beheld vision promising fulfilment to love's wildest desire! a woman of all-surpassing beauty: Eve, in the garden of Paradise.... In a poet's waking dream, he had been lured by the crystal murmur of a spring up a steep path.
"Love's a virtue for heroes! as white as the snow on high hills, And immortal as every great soul is that struggles, endures, and fulfils."
"And witching eyes and plaintive sighs, and looks of love and tender words Love's tricking arts Are poison'd darts, More awesome far than pendant swords!" "Thank you," said Mrs Clyde; "it is very pretty. Your own, I suppose?" "Yes," I said. I did not feel disposed to be more communicative. "What do you call it?" asked Min, carelessly. "`Per Contra," I answered.
"We are listening to it already, senor," said Dorothea; on which Cardenio went away; and Dorothea, giving all her attention to it, made out the words of the song to be these: Ah me, Love's mariner am I On Love's deep ocean sailing; I know not where the haven lies, I dare not hope to gain it.
"As love waxt longer less met we tway * And fell out, but ended the useless fray; One night in the palace I found her fou'; * Yet of modesty still there was some display: The veil from her shoulders had slipt; and showed * Her loosened trousers Love's seat and stay: And rattled the breezes her huge hind cheeks * And the branch where two little pomegranates lay: Quoth I, 'Give me tryst; whereto quoth she * To-morrow the fane shall wear best array: Next day I asked her, 'Thy word? Said she * 'The promise of Night is effaced by Day."
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