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!-
- But how about mother, perched up on the mill-house-
[His eyes are drawn downwards again; he leaps and laughs.]
- Hei, how the Halling flies over the green!
- Ay, Guttorm, he can make his fiddle speak out!
- It gurgles and booms like a foss o'er a scaur.
- And then all that glittering bevy of girls!-
- Yes, galloping death, I must join in the frolic!
- [Leaps over the fence and goes down the road.]
SCENE THIRD
[The farm-place at Hegstad. In the background, the dwelling-house. A THRONG OF GUESTS. A lively dance in progress on the green. THE FIDDLER sits on a table. THE MASTER-COOK is standing in the doorway. COOKMAIDS are going to and fro between the different buildings. Groups of ELDERLY PEOPLE sit here and there, talking.] A WOMAN [joins a group that is seated on some logs of wood].
- The bride? Oh yes, she is crying a bit;
- but that, you know, isn't worth heeding.
THE MASTER-COOK [in another group].
- Now then, good folk, you must empty the barrel.
A MAN
- Thanks to you, friend; but you fill up too quick.
A LAD [to the FIDDLER
