OLAF. [With rising irritation.] Alfhild! go hence! Go, go, far into the mountain again; 'twill be best for you. I was sick and bewildered in mind when I wandered up there! What I have told you I little remember! I do not know and I do not want to know! Do you hear,—I do not want to!—The golden crown you can keep! Keep all, both the silver and gold, that you there stand dressed in. More,—yea, tenfold more you shall have.—Well! why do you stare at me so?
[ALFHILD takes off the crown and the other adornments and places them at OLAF's feet as she continues uninterruptedly to stare at him.]
OLAF. Perhaps I pretended to you that you were to be my bride tonight, perhaps you believed me! Perhaps you thought that Olaf Liljekrans would marry a—a—what was it you called her?
OLAF. [Stamps with his foot.] Do not stare at me so, I say! I know you well enough; you have bewitched me. I forgot my family; I forgot my bride, my betrothed, she who stands there.
OLAF. [Seizes ALFHILD violently by the arm.] Look at her, Alfhild! Aha, it is she that I love!
[ALFHILD sinks down on her knees and covers her face with her hands.]
OLAF. Rise, Alfhild! rise, I say! If you dare to grieve in this way, I shall kill you!—Why are you not happy? Be merry and wild as I am!—And the rest of you! Why do you stand so silently, looking at one another? Laugh,—laugh loudly, so that it may echo around!—Alfhild! Why don't you answer? Have I not told you enough! Aha! Then add, you others, a word to what I have said! Come, say something, you too; Lady Kirsten would like it! Laugh at her, mock her, trample her under your feet!
OLAF. [With ringing laughter.] Ha, ha, ha! She is Olaf's darling!
[ALFHILD sinks down to the ground in such a way that she rests prostrate against the stone bench at the left. A flash of lightning illuminates the scene and the thunder rolls; during the following to the close of the act the darkness and the storm increase.]
OLAF. See, see! That I like; now do the powers above join in! Right now will I ride to the church with my bride! Come, Mistress Ingeborg! But first will we drink,—yes, drink, drink! Bring here the beaker and horn,—not in there—! Light the candles in the church! Let the organ resound; prepare for a dance—not mournful psalms—fie, fie, no, a dance!