EYOLF. [Eagerly.] And what then--tell me!

THE RAT-WIFE. Then we push out from the land, and I scull with one
oar, and play on my Pan's-pipes. And Mopseman, he swims behind.
[With glittering eyes.] And all the creepers and crawlers, they
follow and follow us out into the deep, deep waters. Ay, for they
have to.

EYOLF. Why do they have to?

THE RAT-WIFE. Just because they want not to--just because they are
so deadly afraid of the water. That is why they have got to plunge
into it.

EYOLF. Are they drowned, then?

THE RAT-WIFE. Every blessed one. [More softly.] And there it is all
as still, and soft, and dark as their hearts can desire, the lovely
little things. Down there they sleep a long, sweet sleep, with no
one to hate them or persecute them any more. [Rises.] In the old
days, I can tell you, I didn't need any Mopseman. Then I did the
luring myself--I alone.

EYOLF. And what did you lure then?

THE RAT-WIFE. Men. One most of all.

EYOLF. [With eagerness.] Oh, who was that one? Tell me!

THE RAT-WIFE. [Laughing.] It was my own sweetheart, it was, little