HEMMING. [Apprehensively.] Master! Master!
ARNE. What now?
HEMMING. Let him go! Do you not see who
it is?
THE GUESTS AND LADY KIRSTEN’S PEOPLE. [Whispering
among themselves.] Thorgjerd the fiddler! The
crazy Thorgjerd!
INGEBORG. He has learned the nixie’s songs.
HEMMING. Let him go, let him go!
ARNE. No,—not even were he the nixie
himself—
* * *
* *
[The Preceding.]
[THORGJERD has in the meantime gone to the edge of
the stage to the left; at ARNE’s last words
he turns about suddenly as if he had been addressed.]
THORGJERD. [As he draws a step or two nearer.] What
do you want of me?
ARNE. [Startled.] What’s that?
HEMMING. Now see!
ARNE. Let me manage this.
ARNE. [To THORGJERD.] We seek Olaf Liljekrans.
Have you met him about here today?
THORGJERD. Olaf Liljekrans?
LADY KIRSTEN. Why, yes,—you know
him well.
THORGJERD. Is he not one of the evil men from
the villages?
LADY KIRSTEN. Evil?
THORGJERD. They are all evil there! Olaf
Liljekrans curses the little bird when it sings on
his mother’s roof.
LADY KIRSTEN. You lie, you fiddler!
THORGJERD. [With an artful smile.] So much the better
for him.
ARNE. How so?
THORGJERD. You ask about Olaf Liljekrans?
Has he gone astray in here? You seek him and
cannot find him?
LADY KIRSTEN. Yes, yes!
THORGJERD. So much the better for him;—if
it were a lie that I told, he will suffer no want.
INGEBORG. Speak out what you know!
THORGJERD. Then I should never be done!
THORGJERD. [Mischievously.] Elves and sprites hold
sway here. Be you of good cheer! If you
find him not he is at play with the elves; they are
fond of all who love little birds, and Olaf, you said....
Go home,—go home again. Olaf is up
in the mountain; he suffers no want.
LADY KIRSTEN. Curse you for saying such things!
ARNE. [To LADY KIRSTEN.] Do not heed what he says.
THORGJERD. [Approaches again.] I go hence now to
tune my harp;
Olaf Liljekrans is up in the mountain,—there
shall his wedding
be held.—Mad Thorgjerd must also be there;
he can make tables
and benches dance, so stirring is the music he plays.
But you,
take you heed; go you home again; it is not safe for
you here.
Have you not heard the old saying:
Beware of the elves when they frolic around,
They may draw you into their play;
And all that you see and all that you
hear
Will stay with your mind alway.
THORGJERD. [Suddenly breaking out with wild joy.]
But here there are wedding guests,—ah!
Each lady has on her very best gown, each man his
very best coat,—now I see. Olaf Liljekrans
is likewise a groom in the village,—there
also he has a betrothed! Well, you have heard
of such things before! I know that at any rate
once, —it is years ago—but well
I remember....
