It was a stirring time, in 1848, and all generous young blood
was flowing fast in the same direction.
Since Ibsen's death, Due has published a very lively paper of
recollections of the old Grimstad days. He says:
His daily schedule admitted few intervals for rest or sleep. Yet I never
heard Ibsen complain of being tired. His health was uniformly good. He
must have had an exceptionally strong constitution, for when his
financial conditions compelled him to practice the most stringent
economy, he tried to do without underclothing, and finally even without
stockings. In these experiments he succeeded; and in winter he went
without an overcoat; yet without being troubled by colds or other bodily
ills.
We have seen that Ibsen was so busy that he had to steal from his duties
the necessary hours for study. But out of these hours, he tells us, he
stole moments for the writing of poetry, of the revolutionary poetry of
which we have spoken, and for a great quantity of lyrics of a
sentimental and fanciful kind. Due was the confidant to whom he recited
the latter, and one at least of these early pieces survives, set to
music by this friend.
Pages:
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41