Nils Stensson.
[Softly.] Oh, the devil! [Stretches himself in the chair.] Well, you see—’tis not yet certain. I, for my part, were nothing loath to stay quiet here awhile; but——
Nils Lykke.
——But you are not in all points your own master? There be other duties and other affairs——?
Nils Stensson.
Ay, that is just the rub. Were I to choose, I would rest me at Östråt at least the winter through; I have for the most part led a soldier’s life, and——
[Interrupts himself suddenly, fills a goblet, and drinks.
Your health, Sir!
Nils Lykke.
A soldier’s life? H’m!