ELINA (who has been listening restlessly in the direction of the hall, seizes his arm and breaks out in a vehement whisper). Hush! No need to shout so loud; I can hear well!
BIORN (more softly). Once upon a time there was a high-born
knight, of whom there went the strange report——
(ELINA half-rises and listens in anxious suspense in the
direction of the hall.)
BIORN. Mistress Elina, what ails you?
ELINA (sits down again). Me? Nothing. Go on.
BIORN. Well, as I was saying, when he did but look straight in a woman's eyes, never could she forget it after; her thoughts must follow him wherever he went, and she must waste away with sorrow.
ELINA. I have heard that tale—— —— And, moreover, 'tis no tale you are telling, for the knight you speak of is Nils Lykke, who sits even now in the Council of Denmark——
BIORN. May be so.
ELINA. Well, let it pass—go on!
BIORN. Now it happened once——