Well, I can at any rate laugh at that danger;— For here on all fours I am firmly planted.
[Scratches his head.
A queer enough business, the whole concern! Life, as they say, plays with cards up its sleeve;[1] But when one snatches at them, they've disappeared, And one grips something else,—or else nothing at all.
[He has come near to the hut; he catches sight of it and starts.
This hut? On the heath! Ha!
[Rubs his eyes.
It seems exactly
As though I had known this same building before.—
The reindeer-horns jutting above the gable!—
A mermaid, shaped like a fish from the navel!—
Lies! there's no mermaid! But nails—and planks,—
Bars too, to shut out hobgoblin thoughts!—
Solveig.
[Singing in the hut.]
Now all is ready for Whitsun Eve.
Dearest boy of mine, far away,
Comest thou soon?
Is thy burden heavy,
Take time, take time;—
I will await thee;
I promised of old.[2]
