is the Banquet Hall. And underneath is—the grave-vault. It must be there that Lucia lies.
[In a lower voice, half seriously, half with forced gaiety.
Were I timorous, I might well find myself fancying that when I set foot within Östråt gate she turned about in her coffin; as I crossed the courtyard she lifted the lid; and when I named her name but now, 'twas as though a voice summoned her forth from the grave-vault.—Maybe she is even now groping her way up the stairs. The face-cloth blinds her, but she gropes on and on in spite of it.
Now she has reached the Banquet Hall! She stands watching me from behind the door!
[Turns his head backwards over one shoulder, nods, and says aloud:
Come nearer, Lucia! Talk to me a little! Your mother keeps me waiting. 'Tis tedious waiting—and you have helped me to while away many a tedious hour
[Passes his hand over his forehead, and takes one or two turns up and down.
Ah, there!—Right, right; there is the deep curtained window. 'Tis there that Inger Gyldenlöve is wont to stand gazing out over the road, as though looking for one that never comes. In there—[looks towards the door on the left]—somewhere in there is Sister Elina's chamber. Elina? Ay, Elina is her name.
Can it be that she is so rare a being—so wise and so brave as Lucia fancied her? Fair, too,
