Fieldbo.
Don't mind me. What would you like to do?
Bastian.
I think I'll go down to the dancing-room and fight one or two fellows.
[Goes out behind the tent.
Stensgård.
[Comes from the tent without his hat, and greatly excited.] My dear Fieldbo, is that you?
Fieldbo.
At your service, Tribune of the People! For I suppose you've been elected?
Stensgård.
Of course; but
Fieldbo.
And what is to come of it all? What nice little post are you to have? The management of the Bank? Or perhaps
Stensgård.
Oh, don't talk to me like that! I know you don't mean it. You are not so empty and wooden as you like to appear.
Fieldbo.
Empty and wooden, eh?
Stensgård.
Fieldbo! Be my friend as you used to be! We have not understood each other of late. You have wounded and repelled me with your ridicule and irony. Believe me, it was wrong of you. [Embraces him.] Oh, my great God! how happy I am!
