ELINA (who has been listening restlessly in the direction of the
hall, seizes his arm and breaks out in a vehement whisper). Hush!
No need to shout so loud; I can hear well!
BIORN (more softly). Once upon a time there was a high-born
knight, of whom there went the strange report----
(ELINA half-rises and listens in anxious suspense in the
direction of the hall.)
BIORN. Mistress Elina, what ails you?
ELINA (sits down again). Me? Nothing. Go on.
BIORN. Well, as I was saying, when he did but look straight in
a woman's eyes, never could she forget it after; her thoughts must
follow him wherever he went, and she must waste away with sorrow.
ELINA. I have heard that tale---- ---- And, moreover, 'tis no
tale you are telling, for the knight you speak of is Nils Lykke,
who sits even now in the Council of Denmark----
BIORN. May be so.
ELINA. Well, let it pass--go on!