Loves Comedy | Page 7

me, your friend, this treasure of your finding; For you'll confess
the inference is binding: You've come into a prize off Fortune's wheel!
LIND. I've snared and taken Fortune's blessed bird!
FALK. How? Living,--and undamaged by the steel?
LIND. Patience; I'll tell the matter in one word. I am engaged!
Conceive--!
FALK [quickly]. Engaged!
LIND. It's true! To-day,--with unimagined courage swelling, I
said,--ahem, it will not bear re-telling;-- But only think,--the sweet
young maiden grew Quite rosy-red,--but not at all enraged! You see,
Falk, what I ventured for a bride! She listened,--and I rather think she
cried; That, sure, means "Yes"?
FALK. If precedents decide; Go on.
LIND. And so we really are--engaged?
FALK. I should conclude so; but the only way To be quite certain, is to
ask Miss Jay.
LIND. O no, I feel so confident, so clear! So perfectly assured, and
void of fear. [Radiantly, in a mysterious tone. Hark! I had leave her

fingers to caress When from the coffee-board she drew the cover.
FALK [lifting and emptying his glass]. Well, flowers of spring your
wedding garland dress!
LIND [doing the same]. And here I swear by heaven that I will love her
Until I die, with love as infinite As now glows in me,--for she is so
sweet!
FALK. Engaged! Aha, so that was why you flung The Holy Law and
Prophets on the shelf!
LIND [laughing]. And you believed it was the song you sung--!
FALK. A poet believes all things of himself.
LIND [seriously]. Don't think, however, Falk, that I dismiss The
theologian from my hour of bliss. Only, I find the Book will not suffice
As Jacob's ladder unto Paradise. I must into God's world, and seek Him
there. A boundless kindness in my heart upsprings, I love the straw, I
love the creeping things; They also in my joy shall have a share.
FALK. Yes, only tell me this, though--
LIND. I have told it,-- My precious secret, and our three hearts hold it!
FALK. But have you thought about the future?
LIND. Thought? I?--thought about the future? No, from this Time forth
I live but in the hour that is. In home shall all my happiness be sought;
We hold Fate's reins, we drive her hither, thither, And neither friend
nor mother shall have right To say unto my budding blossom: Wither!
For I am earnest and her eyes are bright, And so it must unfold into the
light!
FALK. Yes, Fortune likes you, you will serve her turn!
LIND. My spirits like wild music glow and burn; I feel myself a Titan:
though a foss Opened before me--I would leap across!

FALK. Your love, you mean to say, in simple prose, Has made a
reindeer of you.
LIND. Well, suppose; But in my wildest flight, I know the nest In
which my heart's dove longs to be at rest!
FALK. Well then, to-morrow it may fly con brio, You're off into the
hills with the quartette. I'll guarantee you against cold and wet--
LIND. Pooh, the quartette may go and climb in trio, The lowly dale has
mountain air for me; Here I've the immeasurable fjord, the flowers,
Here I have warbling birds and choral bowers, And lady fortune's
self,--for here is she!
FALK. Ah, lady Fortune by our Northern water caught her! [With a
glance towards the house. Hist--Svanhild--
LIND. Well; I go,--disclose to none The secret that we share alone with
one. 'Twas good of you to listen; now enfold it Deep in your
heart,--warm, glowing, as I told it.
[He goes out in the background to the others. FALK looks after him a
moment, and paces up and down in the garden, visibly striving to
master his agitation. Presently SVANHILD comes out with a shawl on
her arm, and is going towards the back. FALK approaches and gazes at
her fixedly. SVANHILD stops.
SVANHILD [after a short pause]. You gaze at me so!
FALK [half to himself]. Yes, 'tis there--the same; The shadow in her
eyes' deep mirror sleeping, The roguish elf about her lips a-peeping, It
is there.
SVANHILD. What? You frighten me.
FALK. Your name Is Svanhild?
SVANHILD. Yes, you know it very well.

FALK. But do you know the name is laughable? I beg you to discard it
from to-night!
SVANHILD. That would be far beyond a daughter's right--
FALK [laughing]. Hm. "Svanhild! Svanhild!" [With sudden gravity.
With your earliest breath How came you by this prophecy of death?
SVANHILD. Is it so grim?
FALK. No, lovely as a song, But for our age too great and stern and
strong, How can a modern demoiselle fill out The ideal that heroic
name expresses? No, no, discard it with your outworn dresses.
SVANHILD. You mean the mythical princess, no doubt--
FALK. Who, guiltless, died beneath the horse's