RANNVEIG. It's no use to stand up for her; she wheedles them all.
HADDA PADDA. But still you told me, dear, that you would be fonder of me if I did not marry.
RANNVEIG. How can you say that, Hadda dear? I said that marriage doesn't always bring happiness. HADDA PADDA. I know. You told me that only to console me, because I am now twenty-six years old. Runa is nineteen, prettier than most girls, and a wild little imp, surrounded by young men all the time. And they play upon her vanity only to make her cruel. [Stands up.]
RANNVEIG. At her age you were prettier, and are, still, but you were not like that. No, she hasn't your character.
KRISTRUN [enters from behind]. The prince is coming! [Rannveig gathers her knitting, and drops the yarn. Kristrun jumps at it like a cat, and catches it.] Now I'll dance for you, Veiga dear. [She whirls around her, singing, yarn in hand, twisting the thread around the old woman. They listen for footsteps. Rannveig slips out, on the right, entangled in the yarn, Kristrun following.]
INGOLF [enters. Like Hadda, he is sunburnt].
HADDA PADDA. How do you do! You promised to be here earlier, dear. [Kisses him.]
INGOLF. What time is it? [About to take out his watch.]
HADDA PADDA [catching his hands]. I don't know. But I felt the moment slipping by, when you should have been here.
INGOLF [kisses her again].