OLAF. Be not so amazed that my cheek is white, Three nights have I fought so strange a fight; Be not so amazed that my forehead is gray, Three nights have I been in the elfen play.
HEMMING. Heaven protect us!
OLAF. I am ill, I am faint! I remember neither devil nor saint!
HEMMING. [Apprehensively.] Come, Olaf, with me to your mother's estate!
OLAF. My mother's estate! Where stood it of late? 'Tis here, as it seems, that I have my home! The wood has become my ancestral hall, The river's roaring, the pine-trees' moan, Is sweeter to me than my mother's call.
OLAF. [With increasing rapture.] Aye, here it is quiet! Aye, here it is fair! Behold, my hall for the feast I prepare.
HEMMING. [Aside.] O what has come o'er him?
OLAF. Soon comes my bride!
HEMMING. Your bride! Then you know—?
OLAF. [Continuing.] When the day has died, When slumber the birds, when fades the cloud, Then here will she come so young and so proud!