HEMMING. Olaf loves her! 'Tis many a time he visited her up there;—what Lady Kirsten has told you, you must never believe.
ARNE. And what you blab about I believe still less. You are provoked with Ingeborg because at times she makes fun of you, and therefore you begrudge her this attractive marriage; yes, yes, I know you too well.
HEMMING. Why, master! you could believe that—
ARNE. Make me believe that Olaf Liljekrans loves that beggar woman! A noble, high-born lord such as he! It is almost as if one were to say that Ingeborg, my daughter, had a fancy for you.
HEMMING. [Embarrassed.] For me—how could you ever imagine—
ARNE. No, I don't imagine! But the one is as unreasonable as the other. Come, drink! and don't talk any more such nonsense.
ARNE. [Rises.] There is Lady Kirsten with the guests. What's going to happen now?
HEMMING. They are all to assemble out here; they will then follow the bride and bridegroom to the banquet-table and thence to the church.
ARNE. Aye, what a cursed custom! To the church at night! Is then marriage a work of darkness?