OLAF.
’Tis true; but no such joy and pleasure
Has any one felt here below.--
Have you never heard of the mountain king’s treasure,
Which night after night like gold would glow;
But if you would seize the gold in your hand,
You nothing would find save gravel and sand;
And listen, Alfhild! it often is true
That life turns out in the selfsame way;
Approach not too near, it may happen to you,
That you burn your fingers some day.
’Tis true it may shine like a heavenly star,
But only when seen from afar.
[He becomes aware of Lady Kirsten off the stage to the right.]

OLAF.
My mother--she’ll tell you--I shall depart.
The angels above send their peace to your heart!
[He goes towards the house but is stopped by LADY KIRSTEN.--The sky becomes overcast with dark clouds; the wind begins to howl in the tree-tops.--ALFHILD stands absorbed in deep thought.]