NILS LYKKE. These? Are they not a gage of battle you have thrown down to the wicked Nils Lykke on behalf of all womankind? What could I do but take it up? You asked what I would with them. (Softly.) When I stand again amidst the fair ladies of Denmark—when the music of the strings is hushed and there is silence in the hall—then will I bring forth these flowers and tell a tale of a young maiden sitting alone in a gloomy black-beamed hall, far to the north in Norway—— (Breaks off and bows respectfully.) But I fear I keep the noble daughter of the house too long. We shall meet no more; for before day-break I shall be gone. So now I bid you farewell.
ELINA. Fare you well, Sir Knight!
(A short silence.)
NILS LYKKE. Again you are deep in thought, Elina Gyldenlove!
Is it the fate of your fatherland that weighs upon you still?
ELINA (shakes her head, absently gazing straight in front of
her). My fatherland?—I think not of my fatherland.
NILS LYKKE. Then 'tis the strife and misery of the time that
cause you dread.
ELINA. The time? I have forgotten time—— —— You go to
Denmark? Said you not so?
NILS LYKKE. I go to Denmark.
ELINA. Can I see towards Denmark from this hall?
NILS LYKKE (points to the window on the left). Ay, from this window. Denmark lies there, to the south.