JACOB. Pardon me, Prince, but my thoughts were so heavy that I did not wish to bring them into a merry gathering.
ERIC. Yes, we are devilishly merry, Jorghen and I! This is Jorghen Persson, you see—my secretary, and a very enlightened and clever man, but a perfect rascal otherwise, as you can judge from his horrible looks and treacherous eyes.
JORGHEN. At your service, my dear sir!
ERIC. Sit down and philosophise with us, Jacob. Of course, I promised you pretty maidens, but we have only one here, and she is engaged.
JACOB. [Startled] What do you mean by—engaged?
ERIC. That she has bestowed her heart on somebody, so that you may save yourself the trouble of searching her bosom for it.
JACOB. Are you talking of Agda?
ERIC. Do you know Agda the Chaste, who has told us that she would sell her favours, but never give them away?
AGDA. My God, I never, never meant anything of the kind!
JACOB. No, she cannot possibly have meant it that way.