ACT I.]
LADY INGER OF ÖSTRAT.
9
Finn.
A knight? Nay, that can scarce be.
Biörn.
Why not?
Finn.
Did you not say yourself: the last of our knighthood is dead and gone?
[Goes out to the right.
Biörn.
The accursed knave, with his prying and peering! What avails all my striving to hide and hush things? They whisper of her even now—; soon all men will be shouting aloud that
Elina.
[Comes in again through the door on the left; looks round her, and says with suppressed emotion:] Are you alone, Biörn?
Biörn.
Is it you, Mistress Elina?
Elina.
Come, Biörn, tell me one of your stories; I know you can tell others than those that
Biörn.
A story? Now—so late in the evening?
Elina.
If you count from the time when it grew dark at Östråt, then 'tis late indeed.
