FALK [firmly].
And now to the day's duties, each, alone.
Our paths no more will mingle. Each must wage
His warfare single-handed, without moan.
We caught the fevered frenzy of the age,
Fain without fighting to secure the spoil,
Win Sabbath ease, and shirk the six days' toil,
Tho' we are called to strive and to forego.
SVANHILD.
But not in sickness.
FALK.
Tho' quenched were all the light of earth and sky,—
The thought of light is God, and cannot die.
SVANHILD [withdrawing towards the background].
Farewell! [Goes further.
FALK.
Farewell—gladly I cry again—
[Waves his hat.
Hurrah for love, God's glorious gift to men!
[The door opens. FALK withdraws to the right; the
younger guests come out with merry laughter.
THE YOUNG GIRLS.
A lawn dance!
A YOUNG GIRL.
Dancing's life!
ANOTHER.
A garland spread
With dewy blossoms fresh on every head!
SEVERAL.
Yes, to the dance, the dance!