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Arrange the room, and see that tea is ready; Let everything be nice; I know the lady.
[Svanhild goes in.
STIVER [to FALK].
What is the colour of this parson's coat?
FALK.
I guess bread-taxers would not catch his vote.
STIVER.
How if one made allusion to the store Of verses, yet unpublished, in my drawer?
FALK.
It might do something.
STIVER.
Would to heaven it might!
Our wedding's imminent; our purses light.
Courtship's a very serious affair.
FALK.
Just so: "_Qu'allais-tu faire dans cette galere?_"
STIVER.
Is courtship a "galere"?
FALK.
No, married lives;-- All servitude, captivity, and gyves.
STIVER [seeing MISS JAY approach].
You little know what wealth a man obtains From woman's eloquence and woman's brains.
MISS JAY [aside to STIVER].
Will Guldstad give us credit, think you?
STIVER [peevishly].
I Am not quite certain of it yet: I'll try.
[They withdraw in conversation; LIND and ANNA approach.
LIND [aside to FALK].
I can't endure it longer; in post-haste I must present her--
FALK.
You had best refrain, And not initiate the eye profane Into your mysteries--
LIND.
That would be a jest!-- From you, my fellow-boarder, and my mate, To keep concealed my new-found happy state!
Nay, now, my head with Fortune's oil anointed--
FALK.
You think the occasion good to get it curled?
Well, my good friend, you won't be disappointed; Go and announce your union to the world!
LIND.
Other reflections also weigh with me, And one of more especial gravity; Say that there lurked among our motley band Some sneaking, sly pretender to her hand; Say, his attentions became undisguised,-- We should be disagreeably compromised.
FALK.
Yes, it is true; it had escaped my mind, You for a higher office were designed, Love as his young licentiate has retained you; Shortly you'll get a permanent position; But it would be defying all tradition If at the present moment he ordained you.
LIND.
Yes if the merchant does not--
FALK.
What of him?
ANNA [troubled].
Oh, it is Lind's unreasonable whim.
LIND.
Hush; I've a deep foreboding that the man Will rob me of my treasure, if he can.
The fellow, as we know, comes daily down, Is rich, unmarried, takes you round the town; In short, my own, regard it as we will, There are a thousand things that bode us ill.
ANNA [sighing].
Oh, it's too bad; to-day was so delicious!
FALK [sympathetically to LIND].
Don't wreck your joy, unfoundedly suspicious, Don't hoist your flag till time the truth disclose--
ANNA.
Great G.o.d! Miss Jay is looking; hush, be still!
[She and LIND withdraw in different directions.
FALK [looking after LIND].
So to the ruin of his youth he goes.
GULDSTAD. [Who has meantime been conversing on the steps with MRS. HALM and MISS JAY, approaches FALK and slaps him on the shoulder.
Well, brooding on a poem?
FALK.
No, a play.
GULDSTAD.
The deuce;--I never heard it was your line.
FALK.
O no, the author is a friend of mine, And your acquaintance also, I daresay.
The knave's a dashing writer, never doubt.
Only imagine, in a single day He's worked a perfect little Idyll out.