KERSTI. No!
MATS. But I do; so you must hear it, too.
KERSTI. I don't, I don't! Alas the day!
MATS. Can you hear the rapids?
KERSTI. The roar of the rapids, the beat of the flail, the tinkle of cowbells—but of holy bells not a sound!
MATS. That's a bad sign! I remember when the bells were rung at the burial of our former sheriff—we could see them move, but not a sound was heard. A bad sign!
KERSTI. Brita put a spell on me!
MATS. It will be worst for herself.
KERSTI. Come to the pasture! I must see the sun!
MATS. I will—Kersti dear!