ARNE. How so?
THORGJERD. You ask about Olaf Liljekrans? Has he gone astray in here? You seek him and cannot find him?
LADY KIRSTEN. Yes, yes!
THORGJERD. So much the better for him;—if it were a lie that I told, he will suffer no want.
INGEBORG. Speak out what you know!
THORGJERD. Then I should never be done!
THORGJERD. [Mischievously.] Elves and sprites hold sway here. Be you of good cheer! If you find him not he is at play with the elves; they are fond of all who love little birds, and Olaf, you said.... Go home,—go home again. Olaf is up in the mountain; he suffers no want.
LADY KIRSTEN. Curse you for saying such things!
ARNE. [To LADY KIRSTEN.] Do not heed what he says.
THORGJERD. [Approaches again.] I go hence now to tune my harp; Olaf Liljekrans is up in the mountain,—there shall his wedding be held.—Mad Thorgjerd must also be there; he can make tables and benches dance, so stirring is the music he plays. But you, take you heed; go you home again; it is not safe for you here. Have you not heard the old saying: