Nils Lykke.
I will. But first you must swear me a solemn oath that no living creature in the wide world shall know what I confide to you.
Nils Stensson.
Is that all? You shall have ten oaths, if you will.
Nils Lykke.
Not so lightly, young Sir! ’Tis no jesting matter.
Nils Stensson.
Well, well; I am grave enough.
Nils Lykke.
In the Dales you called yourself a Count’s son;—is’t not so?