No, wait till I conclude.
I should not ask so much of others. You,
Svanhild, I’ve learnt to fathom thro’ and thro’;
You are too sensible to play the prude.
I watched expand, unfold, your little life;
A perfect woman I divined within you,
But long I only saw a daughter in you;—
Now I ask of you—will you be my wife?
[Svanhild draws back in embarrassment.
Falk [seizing his arm].