LIND. Nå, det var rart; – for dig, min medlogerende i huset, jeg skulde holdt min unge lykke skjult! Nej, nu, mit hode har fåt håret gult, –
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--