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 often said that man neither hungers nor thirsts in heaven, and also that a man finds all his friends there.  But I’m ready to faint with thirst, and I’m all alone—­I don’t see a soul:  I should at least find my grandfather, who was such a fine man that he didn’t owe his lordship a penny when he died.  I’m sure lots of people have lived as good lives as I have; so why should I be the only one to go to heaven?  Then it can’t be heaven.  But what can it be?  I’m not asleep, I’m not awake, I’m not dead, I’m not alive, I’m not crazy, I’m not sane, I am Jeppe of the Hill, I’m not Jeppe of the Hill, I’m poor, I’m rich, I’m a miserable peasant, I’m an emperor.  O—­o—­o—!  Help!  Help!  Help! (He roars loudly.)

SCENE 2

(Enter the Valet, Eric, and others who have been watching his behavior from the doorway.)

Valet.  I wish his lordship a very good morning.  Here is the dressing-gown, if his lordship wishes to rise.  Eric! run for the towel and basin.

Jeppe.  Oh, worthy chamberlain!  I will gladly get up, but I beg of you, don’t hurt me.

Valet.  God forbid that we should harm his lordship!

Jeppe.  Oh, before you kill me, would you do me the kindness of telling me who I am?

Valet.  Does not your lordship know who he is?

Jeppe.  Yesterday I was Jeppe of the Hill, but to-day—­Oh, I don’t know what to say.