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--