FALK.
There the blade is;
The seed shot up in mannikin green ladies!
[LIND comes up and seizes FALK's hand.
LIND.
How well I chose,—past understanding well;—
I feel a bliss that nothing can dispel.
GULDSTAD.
There stands your mistress; tell us, if you can,
The right demeanor for a plighted man.
LIND [perturbed].
That's a third person's business to declare.
GULDSTAD [joking].
Ill-tempered! This to Anna's ears I'll bear.
[Goes to the ladies.
LIND [looking after him].
Can such a man be tolerated?
FALK.
You
Mistook his aim, however,—
LIND.
And how so?
FALK.
It was not Anna that he had in view.