LADY KIRSTEN. [To ARNE.] You may well be rilled with wrath and resentment; but if you think I meant to deceive you, you do me the greatest injustice. You think we are playing a game of deception with you. But tell me,—what would tempt me and my son to such a thing? Does he not love Ingeborg? Where could he choose him a better bride? Is she not fair and lithe? Is her father not rich and mighty? Is not her family mentioned with honor as far as it is known?
ARNE. But how then could Olaf—
LADY KIRSTEN. The lot I have suffered is worse than you think. You will pity me instead of growing angry when you have heard.—Since the sun rose this morning I have wandered up here to find him again.
ARNE. Up here?
LADY KIRSTEN. Yes, up here; I must tell you—you'll be frightened—but nevertheless,—Olaf is bewitched in the mountain!
GUESTS. Bewitched in the mountain!
INGEBORG. [At the same time.] Deliver me, God!
ARNE. What say you, Lady Kirsten?
LADY KIRSTEN. He is bewitched in the mountain! Nothing else can it be.—Three weeks ago, after the betrothal feast at Guldvik, he did not come home till far into the next day. Pale he was and moody and quiet as I had never seen him before. And thus the days went by; he spoke but little; he lay in his bed most of the time and turned his face to the wall; but when evening came on, it seemed a strange uneasiness seized him; he saddled his horse and rode away, far up the mountain side; but no one dared follow him, and no one knew where he went beyond that. Believe me, 'tis evil spirits that have charmed his mind; great is the power they wield in here; from the time the terrible plague overran the country it has never been quite safe in the mountain here; there is scarcely a day goes by but the chalet girls hear strange playing and music, although there is no living soul in the place whence it comes.
ARNE. Bewitched in the mountain! Could such a thing be possible?