Tears from my eyes, and quiet from my breast?
I longed to shape my way to my own bent—
Falk.
“In pensive ease?”
Svanhild.
O no, ’twas sternly meant.
But then the aunts came in with well-intended
Advice, the matter must be sifted, weighed—
[Coming nearer.
“In pensive ease,” you say; oh no, I made