Cath. How!—why, am not I sure, too sure?—hey!—what do you mean?—he smiles!—have you heard any thing?—do you know any thing?—but he can know nothing—he can tell me nothing—he has no sense. (She turns to the peasant.) Where did you get this knapsack?—did you see—
Aleft. He saw nothing—he knows nothing—he can tell you nothing:—listen to me, Catherine—see, I have thrown aside the dress of a fool—you know I had my senses once—I have them now as clear as ever I had in my life—ay, you may well be surprised—but I will surprise you more—Count Helmaar’s come home.
Cath. Count Helmaar!—impossible!
Charles. Count Helmaar!—he was killed in the last battle, in Finland.
Aleft. I tell ye, he was not killed in any battle—he is safe at home—I have just seen him.
Cath. Seen him!—but why do I listen to him, poor fool! he knows not what he says—and yet, if the count be really alive—
Charles. Is the count really alive? I’d give my best cow to see him.
Aleft. Come with me, then, and in one quarter of an hour you shall see him.
Cath. (clasping her hands.) Then there is hope for me—Tell me, is there any news?
Aleft. There is.