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Foldal is a pretty, pale girl of fifteen, with a somewhat weary and overstrained expression. She is cheaply dressed in light colours.
The music ceases. A pause.
Borkman.
Can you guess where I first heard tones like these?
Frida.
[Looking up at him.] No, Mr. Borkman.
Borkman.
It was down in the mines.
Frida.
[Not understanding.] Indeed? Down in the mines?
Borkman.
I am a miner's son, you know. Or perhaps you did not know?
Frida.
No, Mr. Borkman.
Borkman.
A miner's son. And my father used sometimes to take me with him into the mines. The metal sings down there.
Frida.
Really? Sings?
