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as he flies past, holding A GIRL by the hand].
- To it now, Guttorm, and don't spare the fiddlestrings!
THE GIRL
- Scrape till it echoes out over the meadows!
OTHER GIRLS [standing in a ring round a lad who is dancing].
- That's a rare fling!
A GIRL
- He has legs that can lift him!
THE LAD [dancing].
- The roof here is high, and the walls wide asunder!
THE BRIDEGROOM [comes whimpering up to his FATHER, who is standing
- talking with some other men, and twitches his jacket].
- Father, she will not; she is so proud!
HIS FATHER
- What won't she do?
THE BRIDEGROOM
- She has locked herself in.
HIS FATHER
- Well, you must manage to find the key.
THE BRIDEGROOM