hungry louse, a maggot, a lump of carrion; then how can I be an
emperor and lord of a castle? No, it's nothing but a dream. So I'd
better be calm and wait till I wake up. [The music strikes up again
and Jeppe bursts into tears.] Oh, can a man hear things like that in
his sleep? It's impossible. But if it's a dream, I hope I may never
wake, and if I am crazy, I hope I may never be sane again; I'd sue
the doctor that cured me, and curse the man that waked me. But I'm
neither dreaming nor crazy, for I can remember everything that has
happened to me: I remember that my blessed father was Niels of the
Hill, my grandfather Jeppe of the Hill; my wife's name is Nille; her
switch is Master Eric; my sons are Hans, Christoffer, and Niels.
I've got it! I know what it is; this is the other life, this is
paradise, this is heaven. I must have drunk myself to death
yesterday at Jacob Shoemaker's, and when I died I went straight to
heaven. Death can't be as hard to go through as they make out, for I
don't feel a thing. Now, perhaps the pastor is standing this very
minute in the pulpit delivering a funeral sermon over me, and is
saying, "So ended Jeppe of the Hill. He lived like a soldier, and he
died like a soldier." There might be some doubt as to whether I died
on land or on sea, for I was easily half-seas-over when I left the
world. Oh, Jeppe! how different this is from walking four leagues to
town for soap, lying on straw, being beaten by your wife, and having
horns put on you by the deacon. Oh, to what delights are your
troubles and your bitter days now turned! Oh, I'm ready to weep for
joy, particularly when I think how all this has happened to me
without my deserving it! But one thing bothers me, and that is that
I'm so thirsty that my lips are sticking together. If I wanted to be
alive again, it would be just so I could get a mug of ale to quench
my thirst, for what good is all this finery to my eyes and ears, if
I'm going to die all over again of thirst? I remember, the priest