[_Motions her mother back with her hand, still looking intently at him, and says:_] There is no need! I see who he is. He is Nils Lykke. NILS LYKKE. [_Aside, to_ LADY INGER.] How? Does she know me? Can Lucia have—? Can she know——? LADY INGER. Hush! She knows nothing. ELINA. [_To herself._] I knew it;—even so must Nils Lykke appear. NILS LYKKE. [_Approaches her._] Yes, Elina Gyldenlöve,—you have guessed aright. And as it seems that, in some sense, you know me,—and, moreover, as I am your mother’s guest,——you will not deny me the flower-spray you wear in your bosom. So long as it is fresh and fragrant, I shall have in it an image of yourself. ELINA. [_Proudly, but still gazing at him._] Pardon me, Sir Knight——’twas plucked in my own chamber, and _there_ can grow no flower for you. NILS LYKKE. [_Loosening a spray of flowers that he wears in the front of his doublet._] At least you will not disdain this humble gift. ’Twas a farewell token from a courtly dame when I set forth from Trondhiem this morning.——But mark me, noble maiden,——were I to offer you a gift that were fully worthy of you, it could be nought less than a princely crown. ELINA. [_Who has taken the flowers passively._] And were it the royal crown of Denmark you held forth to me——before I shared it with _you_, I would crush it to pieces between my hands, and cast the fragments at your feet! [_Throws down the flowers at his feet, and goes into the Banquet Hall._ OLAF SKAKTAVL. [_Mutters to himself._] Bold——as Inger Ottisdaughter by Knut Alfson’s bier! LADY INGER. [_Softly, after looking alternately at_ ELINA _and_ NILS LYKKE.] The wolf _can_ be tamed. Now to forge the fetters. NILS LYKKE. [_Picks up the flowers and gazes in rapture after_ ELINA.] God’s holy blood, but she is proud and fair! ----- ACT THIRD